Ch.3: Solid White Past
It was an odd place to meet, he thought with a frown. Why had Hotaru decided on
a place such as this to meet?
But it was familiar. Still, to that day, the same people walked by, their white lab
coats billowing out behind them. Whitewashed walls surrounded him, blinding him once again
like it had that fateful night that had become just a dull ache in his heart. Aya-chan,
after all, was already awake and kicking (not literally!), Takatori was dead, everything
that had happened to his family in the past had been resolved, taken down by his own bare
hands. As he passed Aya-chan's room, he looked at it, then down at the address that had the
room number he would meet the others. Surprised, he looked at the number, from the paper,
back up to the plate by the door. They both read "308", to his surprise. He pushed open
the door, and was met by a familiar sight. The bed was still in its original place under
the window, and the window was open, pouring liquid sunshine all over the pillows. Beside
the bed, there was still a machine that beeped every other second, and the screen showed a
green line that waved up and down in front of his eyes. Almost against his will, he walked
over, and traced the lines as they moved. Absentmindedly his eyes followed the IV cord from
the machine over to the arm, up the person's arm, and froze.
The face was so familiar, from so long ago. It looked different from years of work,
but he could tell it was the same person. The aura that he could pick up was the same
innocent type that this person always was. Looking at the young face, he realized that this
person couldn't be any older than Omi, still under 20, still young and carefree and
deserving to live a normal life. This person still had hope for the future, while he was
doomed to spend his life as one of Kritiker's lackeys. Almost reminded him of Omi, but it
wasn't the same.
"So, you've found him, I see."
His hand poised in midair, about to grasp the hand that lay limp on the bed, and
suddenly another puzzle piece clicked into place, and another question popped up in his
mind. The voice, the voice was so familiar that he could almost see the image behind him
that spoke even before he turned around. The person he hadn't seen for so many years was
behind him was speaking, but suddenly he found that he couldn't believe this person would be
there-
-but he was, as he whirled around. Fair hair that glistened in the sun, brown eyes
that could quicken to coldness during a mission, or soften at the sight of a little girl
eating ice cream down the street. He was a man of emotions as much as Ran was a man of
indifference. He was, in all ways, his balancing counterpart; they canceled each other out,
like a math equation. And again, there was no question that this person was exactly who he
thought it would be. After meeting his eye for a few moments, his head ducked low, humbly.
This person wasn't the easiest of people who would understand.
"What are you doing here, Rook?"
"I might ask you the same, Knight."
A swift click of boot heels on the tile floor, the rush of wind at him, those were
the only warnings he got before a strong hand gripped his shirt collar and forced violet to
meet brown. He couldn't read any other emotion there other than anger, so he closed his
eyes and waited for the end of the fight. He didn't struggle, even when he was lifted up
from the ground and straight at the other's face. Knight's breath pounded at him, but he
could only feel the anger and resentment that he radiated, and paid attention to nothing
else.
"Don't CALL ME BY THAT NAME!", Knight threw him into the bed, seething, vision
almost red from the blood that rose with his quick temper. "My name is Honjyou Yuuji."
Slowly, so that his former friend wouldn't be suspicious he was doing anything, he
got up, and slowly raised his eyes to meet Knight's. "Nice to meet you, Yuuji."
After a moment, Knight gave a satisfied smirk/smile, and asked back, "And you are?"
"Ran. Ran Fujimiya is my name."
The smile remained on for a few seconds after he said that, then dropped as he
watched Knight walk to the side of the bed alongside him, hesitantly and almost as if he was
afraid. He watched as the other man cupped a hand, still heavy and asleep, against his
cheek, and the eyes take on a disbelieving look.
"It was like yesterday...yesterday was so long ago, though."
Ran stood silent. He waited for the story to play out.
"Rook", Knight used his old nickname. "There is no more Crashers. We practically
died on a mission. I didn't escape unscathed." He pulled up the sleeve on his arm,
exposing a long, horizontal gash that would probably remain there for the rest of his life.
"All that's left of Crashers is me, and him." He looked at the figure on the bed and
whispered hoarsely, "He was so young. And he didn't die or become like this in a battle,
either."
Ran didn't dare open his mouth. He didn't quite trust it at that moment.
"He went into a coma because of the school that your mission talked about. St.
Joseph Boys' Institute of Obedience, to be exact, Rook. That's one sick school, but there's
no evidence of anything, no evidence except for this", he gestured to the figure on the
bed. "Such a pity...Pawn was so young...what did he do to be done this?"
"What happened?"
Knight still held onto the hand like it was a lifeline, that it might somehow wake
his partner up somehow. "How? How?", he gave a rueful little laugh that sounded more like
a sob. "They raped him. That's what. Over and over and over again. There were too many
of them, and we found him sent to one of Kritiker's main hospitals, the inconspicuous ones.
He was brought here. And that's how I was contacted and brought here. I visit him
everyday, you know, just in case, maybe some miracle will happen...but it sure hasn't
happened yet."
He did the only thing he could do. He laid a hand on Knight's shoulder, and
slightly leaned on it, the same action he did many years ago, when he was in a contemplating
mood after a mission. It always drained him physically, so he was forced to deliberate
mentally. Those times, he could tell that Knight was doing the same thing. They both hoped
that they could get out of Kritiker one day, but then a part of them told them to stay.
After all, justice had to be served on a silver dish by SOMEONE, didn't it?
"Why?"
"You mean 'why did they do that to him?'", Knight turned soulful eyes on him, and he
nodded just once. "Why? 'Cause they're sick bastards, that's why. They do it for fun.
No point at all, except to amuse themselves. I just wish that Pawn would've fought back,
but there were probably too many of them to handle. I wish I'd been there, though. I hate
being and feeling so incredibly helpless and small, not even able to save the only life
that's left in Crashers except for mine!"
He didn't trust himself to say anything at that moment.
"Rook, what'll happen to him? What do you think I should do? Should I continue
like this, or should I just pull the plug from the machine and let him die?"
"Aya-chan woke up after 6 years in a coma. This is the very room she resided in.
Let him live. You're right, Knight, miracles to happen. But wait for it, don't push your
luck too far. Wait, and have some patience."
At the sound of his old name, Knight looked to him, and began to cry.
* * *
"What is your name?", his voice was impassive and cold as it could be as he spoke.
"Why did you bring me here?", a younger boy spoke, a question to counter a question.
"To ask you about the school you go to."
The boy stopped, and looked at him. "I'll go quietly with you."
He led the boy to his car, motioning to the passenger seat, and he drove them to the
temporary apartment. The drive was quiet. The boy didn't talk. Even at the apartment, the
answers he got for his questions were "Aa", "yes", and "no". The boy settled for a cup of
water, him for tea, and the questioning began.
"What is your name?"
"Mikhail. Mikhail Epstein."
"How old are you?"
"I'm 18."
"What is wrong about the school?"
"It is run by not the teachers or staff or principal. It is run by the kids.
Actually, I should say, it is overrun by the kids."
"Who is in charge?"
"Them."
"I don't understand."
"A group of people called simply "Them" is in charge. They rule the school with an
iron grip."
"And what do they do to people who disobey?"
"They rape them."
He was at the end of his questioning sheet. Yet, he found he had to ask.
"Do you know a boy called Tsukiyono Omi?"
"Yes."
"Did you know a boy called Uhyou Naru?"
"Yes."
"I'll drive you back."
The drive back was just as silent as it was before. Yet, he could feel that
something had changed in his questioning. This boy now trusted him at least a notch more,
and he could account for that. But the strange thing was when they pulled into the school
lot.
"We're here."
"Just drop me off."
The boy turned to shut the door behind him, but instead he turned, and looked
straight at him for a moment. Then he turned away, and jogged towards the main entrance.
He looked at the retreating back with something close to friendliness. Now he was sure that
at least Omi would have one person on his side.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
Author's note:
Hmm, Pawn's in a coma, aye? Well, that's a twist. I don't think I planned that
beforehand, though. This is kinda, sorta, a little bit, a KnightxRan fic, but whatever you
want. I'm just implying it, but the outcome at the very end might be a little different, so
don't take my word now.
Andrea Weiling
It was an odd place to meet, he thought with a frown. Why had Hotaru decided on
a place such as this to meet?
But it was familiar. Still, to that day, the same people walked by, their white lab
coats billowing out behind them. Whitewashed walls surrounded him, blinding him once again
like it had that fateful night that had become just a dull ache in his heart. Aya-chan,
after all, was already awake and kicking (not literally!), Takatori was dead, everything
that had happened to his family in the past had been resolved, taken down by his own bare
hands. As he passed Aya-chan's room, he looked at it, then down at the address that had the
room number he would meet the others. Surprised, he looked at the number, from the paper,
back up to the plate by the door. They both read "308", to his surprise. He pushed open
the door, and was met by a familiar sight. The bed was still in its original place under
the window, and the window was open, pouring liquid sunshine all over the pillows. Beside
the bed, there was still a machine that beeped every other second, and the screen showed a
green line that waved up and down in front of his eyes. Almost against his will, he walked
over, and traced the lines as they moved. Absentmindedly his eyes followed the IV cord from
the machine over to the arm, up the person's arm, and froze.
The face was so familiar, from so long ago. It looked different from years of work,
but he could tell it was the same person. The aura that he could pick up was the same
innocent type that this person always was. Looking at the young face, he realized that this
person couldn't be any older than Omi, still under 20, still young and carefree and
deserving to live a normal life. This person still had hope for the future, while he was
doomed to spend his life as one of Kritiker's lackeys. Almost reminded him of Omi, but it
wasn't the same.
"So, you've found him, I see."
His hand poised in midair, about to grasp the hand that lay limp on the bed, and
suddenly another puzzle piece clicked into place, and another question popped up in his
mind. The voice, the voice was so familiar that he could almost see the image behind him
that spoke even before he turned around. The person he hadn't seen for so many years was
behind him was speaking, but suddenly he found that he couldn't believe this person would be
there-
-but he was, as he whirled around. Fair hair that glistened in the sun, brown eyes
that could quicken to coldness during a mission, or soften at the sight of a little girl
eating ice cream down the street. He was a man of emotions as much as Ran was a man of
indifference. He was, in all ways, his balancing counterpart; they canceled each other out,
like a math equation. And again, there was no question that this person was exactly who he
thought it would be. After meeting his eye for a few moments, his head ducked low, humbly.
This person wasn't the easiest of people who would understand.
"What are you doing here, Rook?"
"I might ask you the same, Knight."
A swift click of boot heels on the tile floor, the rush of wind at him, those were
the only warnings he got before a strong hand gripped his shirt collar and forced violet to
meet brown. He couldn't read any other emotion there other than anger, so he closed his
eyes and waited for the end of the fight. He didn't struggle, even when he was lifted up
from the ground and straight at the other's face. Knight's breath pounded at him, but he
could only feel the anger and resentment that he radiated, and paid attention to nothing
else.
"Don't CALL ME BY THAT NAME!", Knight threw him into the bed, seething, vision
almost red from the blood that rose with his quick temper. "My name is Honjyou Yuuji."
Slowly, so that his former friend wouldn't be suspicious he was doing anything, he
got up, and slowly raised his eyes to meet Knight's. "Nice to meet you, Yuuji."
After a moment, Knight gave a satisfied smirk/smile, and asked back, "And you are?"
"Ran. Ran Fujimiya is my name."
The smile remained on for a few seconds after he said that, then dropped as he
watched Knight walk to the side of the bed alongside him, hesitantly and almost as if he was
afraid. He watched as the other man cupped a hand, still heavy and asleep, against his
cheek, and the eyes take on a disbelieving look.
"It was like yesterday...yesterday was so long ago, though."
Ran stood silent. He waited for the story to play out.
"Rook", Knight used his old nickname. "There is no more Crashers. We practically
died on a mission. I didn't escape unscathed." He pulled up the sleeve on his arm,
exposing a long, horizontal gash that would probably remain there for the rest of his life.
"All that's left of Crashers is me, and him." He looked at the figure on the bed and
whispered hoarsely, "He was so young. And he didn't die or become like this in a battle,
either."
Ran didn't dare open his mouth. He didn't quite trust it at that moment.
"He went into a coma because of the school that your mission talked about. St.
Joseph Boys' Institute of Obedience, to be exact, Rook. That's one sick school, but there's
no evidence of anything, no evidence except for this", he gestured to the figure on the
bed. "Such a pity...Pawn was so young...what did he do to be done this?"
"What happened?"
Knight still held onto the hand like it was a lifeline, that it might somehow wake
his partner up somehow. "How? How?", he gave a rueful little laugh that sounded more like
a sob. "They raped him. That's what. Over and over and over again. There were too many
of them, and we found him sent to one of Kritiker's main hospitals, the inconspicuous ones.
He was brought here. And that's how I was contacted and brought here. I visit him
everyday, you know, just in case, maybe some miracle will happen...but it sure hasn't
happened yet."
He did the only thing he could do. He laid a hand on Knight's shoulder, and
slightly leaned on it, the same action he did many years ago, when he was in a contemplating
mood after a mission. It always drained him physically, so he was forced to deliberate
mentally. Those times, he could tell that Knight was doing the same thing. They both hoped
that they could get out of Kritiker one day, but then a part of them told them to stay.
After all, justice had to be served on a silver dish by SOMEONE, didn't it?
"Why?"
"You mean 'why did they do that to him?'", Knight turned soulful eyes on him, and he
nodded just once. "Why? 'Cause they're sick bastards, that's why. They do it for fun.
No point at all, except to amuse themselves. I just wish that Pawn would've fought back,
but there were probably too many of them to handle. I wish I'd been there, though. I hate
being and feeling so incredibly helpless and small, not even able to save the only life
that's left in Crashers except for mine!"
He didn't trust himself to say anything at that moment.
"Rook, what'll happen to him? What do you think I should do? Should I continue
like this, or should I just pull the plug from the machine and let him die?"
"Aya-chan woke up after 6 years in a coma. This is the very room she resided in.
Let him live. You're right, Knight, miracles to happen. But wait for it, don't push your
luck too far. Wait, and have some patience."
At the sound of his old name, Knight looked to him, and began to cry.
* * *
"What is your name?", his voice was impassive and cold as it could be as he spoke.
"Why did you bring me here?", a younger boy spoke, a question to counter a question.
"To ask you about the school you go to."
The boy stopped, and looked at him. "I'll go quietly with you."
He led the boy to his car, motioning to the passenger seat, and he drove them to the
temporary apartment. The drive was quiet. The boy didn't talk. Even at the apartment, the
answers he got for his questions were "Aa", "yes", and "no". The boy settled for a cup of
water, him for tea, and the questioning began.
"What is your name?"
"Mikhail. Mikhail Epstein."
"How old are you?"
"I'm 18."
"What is wrong about the school?"
"It is run by not the teachers or staff or principal. It is run by the kids.
Actually, I should say, it is overrun by the kids."
"Who is in charge?"
"Them."
"I don't understand."
"A group of people called simply "Them" is in charge. They rule the school with an
iron grip."
"And what do they do to people who disobey?"
"They rape them."
He was at the end of his questioning sheet. Yet, he found he had to ask.
"Do you know a boy called Tsukiyono Omi?"
"Yes."
"Did you know a boy called Uhyou Naru?"
"Yes."
"I'll drive you back."
The drive back was just as silent as it was before. Yet, he could feel that
something had changed in his questioning. This boy now trusted him at least a notch more,
and he could account for that. But the strange thing was when they pulled into the school
lot.
"We're here."
"Just drop me off."
The boy turned to shut the door behind him, but instead he turned, and looked
straight at him for a moment. Then he turned away, and jogged towards the main entrance.
He looked at the retreating back with something close to friendliness. Now he was sure that
at least Omi would have one person on his side.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
Author's note:
Hmm, Pawn's in a coma, aye? Well, that's a twist. I don't think I planned that
beforehand, though. This is kinda, sorta, a little bit, a KnightxRan fic, but whatever you
want. I'm just implying it, but the outcome at the very end might be a little different, so
don't take my word now.
Andrea Weiling