Leaves by the Candle Light
Chapter VIII
By Hachi Mitsu
Hiddencache.com
The human hand is an intricate object. Long slender bones join together to form a precise instrument, capable of many things. Stretched elegantly under soft pale skin, it can also be simply a work of art; human hands in general, his hands in particular.
Subaru stared silently. Those hands before him were not posed in prayer, calling upon some greater power to release the souls of those trapped in the living world. Nor were they set in the position of meditation, instead his pallid skin was laced in thick ropes of blood; twisting and entwining, as if trying to merge with his very soul.
Subaru stared in horror, because it was all he could do.
Some part of his mind must have registered that, no, this wasn't real, it couldn't be. But, that silent voice struggled, flared and finally faded like so much empty smoke. It seemed real enough.
All he could do was stare, wondering vaguely if the blood was his own, or perhaps it belonged to that dark specter that seemed to hover in his arms, growing colder and colder.
He wondered what it would taste like, that warm rivulet that poured from the joint of his wrist to the tip of his fingers. Would the sweetness be dulled by the biter tears that he vaguely registered were sliding down his face, diluting the red? Would the fact that this wasn't real change it's silky texture?
His hands had spent eight years of his childhood hiding beneath a pair of black gloves, now, nine years later; they wore only a layer of liquid red.
At some point he ceased to care to interpret the scene before him, aware only of a dull pain with no origin. And then, even that faded.
***
There was something distinctively odd that he couldn't quite place. Subaru struggled to open his eyes. They felt that they were sealed shut. Upon facing the full assault of the midmorning sun, he quickly concluded that it was an undeniably bad idea.
Then he realized what was wrong.
The sun seeped as soothingly as a fully occupied pin cushion through only one of his sore eyelids. His right side was shroud in darkness.
Before he could panic and reach for that disturbing patch of nothingness, someone grabbed his hands.
"Subaru!"
Cautiously he opened his left eye again and saw Kamui hovering nervously over him. Slowly his mind registered the stream of apologies.
Why was he apologizing? Subaru reached back into his memories of the day before. It wasn't Kamui's fault. He had wanted it. He couldn't remember why per se, just some vague recollection that Fuuma had looked disturbingly like Seishirou. In fact, he had thought that he was the assassin.
The eye. That was what Kamui was so upset about. Subaru touched the bandages.
"Don't apologize Kamui. It was my wish."
The boy started to argue, but then thought better of it. "Why?"
Subaru didn't know the answer himself, but he gave it his best shot. "Kamui... have you ever wondered why things happen the way they do? I mean, when we look into the future, we see so many possibilities, but no matter how many ways something can happen, there is only one future; only one thing can happen."
Kamui remained silent.
"Everything boils down to only one. And who makes the decision of what that one future would be? One could say that it is the decisions of all those involved. But their decisions are based on their personal lives, environment, and opinions. And who controls those? Who controls how we are born, how we think, and what we go through?"
"Are you saying that you believe we don't have a chance of defeating destiny?" Kamui's eyes flared, like violet fire.
"No... I'm just saying..." Subaru sighed. His head hurts, throbbing endlessly and his bandages felt like chains. "I'm just saying that whatever happened yesterday, it didn't matter. It was just one more step towards the one future. So stop worrying."
It was true. No one really makes a decision. The future starts out as what can be imagined as a plane of infinite number of candles. Then something happens to trigger an action, which limits the plane so that the number of possibly is now finite.
From then one, the candles are knocked over, or snuffed out. One by one. Destiny doesn't set a future. It just eliminates the possibilities.
There's no such thing as "chance". If one were to flip a coin and observe it using equipments sophisticated enough to analyze the direction it falls, gravitational pull, air resistance and what not, we would know which way it lands long before it touches the ground.
This is where we live, a world of cold precision where everything is defined. Yet nothing is certain.
Subaru closed his eyes, because, it was a great alternative to staring into Kamui's huge accusing eyes.
"Subaru?"
"Yes?"
"If the future is already decided, why can people like Hinoto see the future? What's the use if you know what will happen but can do nothing to change it?"
"Maybe," Subaru murmured, feeling sleep steal over him again. His mind was on that dream. The one he still did not fully understand "it's so that we can make the best of what we have left."
Kamui thought the curious answer over, then applied it to his question. He smiled. "Thank you Subaru..."
"Hmm."
***
Sometime during the day, Subaru vaguely that Sorata had dropped by, with Arashi in tow. He remembered requesting for them to bring Kamui back home, seeing that the boy had not slept despite his injuries.
Sorata had done so with a quick nod. He seemed even more concerned then Subaru, perhaps due to his clear head and lack of numerous bodily injuries that could be quite distracting.
As soon as he sensed the others gone. Subaru gathered what was left of his foggy thoughts and struggled out of bed. He was leaving here as soon as possible, and that would be now.
As far as he was concerned, staying at the hospital linked up to various IVs was something akin to being a sitting duck. He'd very much rather be home where he at least had his wards up and a fresh supply of ofuda.
It didn't occur that walking home near dusk after losing his eye, and perhaps much of his common sense was a bad idea until he found himself lost and stumbling. Perhaps it was due to the losing his common sense part. Some where during this haphazard roam around the city from a hospital whose name he never bothered to inquire, Subaru found himself face to face with the concrete pavement. It was a nice concrete pavement he observed. After that, he couldn't remember a thing.
***
Subaru had that dream again. He couldn't remember any details because in the dream he was always so dazed. Except...
The name escaped his lips before he could analyze what it meant. "Seishirou-san..."
"Yes?"
Subaru's eyes widen as he attempted to leap out of bed but ended up tangled in the sheets, his clothes and what seemed like miles of unraveling bandages.
"Seishirou-san!" He cried out blinking at the man who was lounging on a nearly arm chair with a book across his lap.
"Yes...?" The man repeated, "did you want something Subaru-kun?"
"I... I..."
"... are an idiot?" Seishirou suggested. If Subaru hadn't known him better he would have sworn that the man looked somewhat exasperated. "What were you thinking Subaru-kun? Tell me that."
Subaru looked away nervously, fiddling with the end of his bandage. "What do you mean?"
"Well, why don't we list them? Seeing how there's quite a few. First of all, attempting to fight Fuuma on your own, and for Kamui no less. To make things worse, you didn't even pay attention. Oh, and letting him stab your eye. Yes Subaru-kun that was very smart. Pure genius." Subaru cringed, the sarcasm was thick enough to eat with a spoon, but Seishirou continued, "and what else? Oh yes, how can we forget, your little trip around the city. Tell me Subaru-kun, were you aiming for the ground or was it pure luck?"
Subaru coughed, not knowing how to respond. "Um... no?"
Seishirou shook his head. "I'm going to make some dinner for you, since you probably hadn't eaten since the last time I fed you. I'd say yesterday's events traumatized you into this state of stupidity, but, come to think of it, you've been like this for the past nine years."
"And whose fault is that?" Subaru glared, but Seishirou had already disappeared into the kitchen. Leaning back against the propped up pillow he sighed. It was going to be a long night.
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End of Chapter VIII
