Chapter Three: Beyond the Wall of Sleep
Zero lay in his bed, casting a glance around the room. Clay snored, his chest rising, and then falling, in rhythmic counterpoint to the sounds escaping his lips and nostrils. Did he invent something revolutionary, or are half-naked girls peeling grapes and feeding him baklava, again? He might just have stumbled across a new variety of orchids---or not. He's going to wake up refreshed, poised, and ready to discover more 'interesting' things. I'm really getting to hate that. Really, really getting to hate that.
He stared at Hiead, whose back was turned to him. One day I'm going to find out if he really does sleep open-eyed. Hiead's mattress rustled. Zero turned his face away, shutting his eyes. Come on, Enna, calm down. He's probably getting up to take a whiz. Bedsprings creaked; feet padded across the floor, paused, then continued to Zero's bed. Okay. He's come this way again. Don't move.
Ruby eyes fixed on the right hand, just outside the covers. Two nights ago he had a burn across his palm. Not a trace of it now. And since when did burns smell like roses and cinnamon? I still smell it on him.
A memory surfaced: Hiead, in a rented car with his father, stared out the window at the fields stretching out. His father, a black-haired man with steely eyes, glanced at the boy. "You are staying with your Tante Melisande and Nonc' Emile while I'm on Colony Sybaris-Lethe. If they ask you how that bruise got there," he touched a purple mark on Hiead's cheek, "tell them you fell from the monkey bars. Understood?" The six-year-old nodded, saying, "Yes, Papa, I understand."
The car turned, onto a gravel driveway, which led to a two-story wooden house, painted sky-blue, with gabled roofs and a large front porch. A woman in her late 50s, with iron-grey hair and violet eyes, came onto the porch. She wore a red shirt and denim overalls, with yellow gardening clogs on her feet.
Hiead's father stopped the car, and motioned for the little boy to get out. Hiead bolted up the steps, singing, "Tattie Mellie! Tattie Mellie! I'm here!" and threw himself into his great-aunt's embrace. She held the boy, covering his face with kisses.
"Hey, hey," a booming voice rang out, "Is that our petit ange come to visit?" Hiead broke from his Tattie's arms, and stepped over to a sixtyish man in khakis and a faded black shirt. Snowy hair and rose-colored eyes gave the man's carved features a strange, merry look. Emile Broussard smiled. "Come over here, little one, give your old Uncle a kiss."
The front porch vanished, replaced by darkness; Zero tensed, waiting for Hiead to walk away. Hey, Gner, get back to your side of the room. See? Eyes closed, no response to your motions---take the hint, and just go now. He's not leaving. Huh? What's this? He felt Hiead's fingers brush across the right palm.
Hiead perched on the edge of Zero's bed, taking the other boy's hand in his. Soft. He ran his fingers over the palm. No blisters, no scar tissue---not even an altered line. You'd think he'd never gotten burned in the first place. He raised Zero's hand to his face. Sweet, with a lingering spice note. An impulse overtook him, and he pressed his lips to the palm he still held, tracing a spiral with the tip of his tongue. Zero stirred, stifling a cry. Hiead relinquished the youth's hand, staring at the dark hair, and the dark blue eye, cracked open. Playing possum, are we? Fine. Have it your way. But, little mystery, I will solve you. And when I do, I will surpass you. Count on it.
Hiead touched Zero's hair---a gentle touch, almost a caress. After a few minutes, he got up and returned to his bed. Sleep overtook him, setting him adrift.
Zero exhaled, falling asleep. The fragrance of leaf mold and pine drew him to a bluff, which overlooked a city, lights twinkling, as the moon rose, in a crisp, late-autumn sky. A pair of arms wrapped around him; he nestled his head against the man's chin. "Rei," the voice said, "tell me what you see."
Zero smiled. "I see the skyline of a city, a toy-like city, with a pink pearl moon. I see stars above us, and the outline of a river in the distance. And I'm in awe." He paused. "And what do you see, koishii? I'd like to know."
His koishii rocked him, pressing kisses to the nape of his neck. "I see the city, the moon, the stars, and the water. And I see you, itooshii." The voice lowered, humming the melody of a song only they knew.
The skyline dissolved into a blinding frenzy: white bled into his eyes, as faceless hands attached needles to his arms. A constant eep-eep shocked his ears, as the masked figures jotted notes, whispering between themselves. He tried to scream; only a whine escaped his lips. A wave of nausea jolted his body; the meager breakfast he had eaten spattered across the gurney, with its hard mattress. Another set of hands reached over, scalpel in hand. His stomach lurched again.
Zero woke, running to the bathroom, praying he could make it in time. Oh, Mother Kannon, what is the matter with me? Before he could hunch over the toilet, he heard the voice of his silver-haired rival: "So, is Number 88 praying to the great god Ralph?" The door closed, as Hiead walked in, turning on a light.
"Were you dreaming, dear boy, about being in zero gravity again? Or maybe," Hiead cooed, "you lost in a fist fight to me."
Zero said nothing, too occupied with the wrenching pain in his stomach. He retched, heaved, and coughed. Crimson stained the white porcelain, swirling in the water. Hiead noticed the traces, and grabbed a towel.
"Enna," he said, "care to explain to me why you're spitting up blood?" Zero groaned, gasping for breath. "Mother Kali, but you're sweating like a pig. Oh well, I guess I've got to clean you up," Hiead said, wetting the towel. Zero shot him a baleful look. "Did I ask you to help me, Gner?"
Hiead knelt next to him, swabbing the dark-haired boy's neck, face, and forearms. "Suppose you hadn't managed to wake up. Would you have preferred to risk choking on your own sick?" He paused, while Zero's breathing normalized. "Let's get you to the infirmary."
"No," Zero replied. "It'll pass." Hiead shook his head in disbelief.
"Okay. But if you get really sick, don't ask for my help."
"Like I would in the first place." Zero looked up, catching a glint in Hiead's eye. Don't tell me I hit a nerve.
Hiead stepped to the sink, grabbing a cup and filling it with fresh water. "Come on, let's get that taste out of your mouth." He tapped Zero on the shoulder. "Now, Enna."
Zero got up, and recognized the tang in his mouth, sour and metallic. He took the cup from Hiead, rinsed, then grabbed a toothbrush. After the brushing, he rinsed again.
"What was that about?" Hiead wanted to know.
"What was what about?" And since when did you give a flying?
"Going to sleep, waking up violently sick, stuff like that."
"Why?" You had better have a convincing reason for asking.
"Why not?" Believe me, Zero, I've got plenty of reasons to ask.
"I don't care if you have plenty of reasons. One will do."
"Okay. Training would be a crashing bore. No obnoxious outbursts, no chance to see Azuma rake your ass over the grater, nobody who matches me, skill for skill."
Zero tilted his head, narrowing his eyes a bit. Oh, really? "Well thanks, I think."
Hiead chuckled. "Can't have you getting too confident now." He took Zero by the hand, and led him back to his bed. "Now get some sleep."
Zero lay down, pulling the covers over his shoulders. Hiead walked to his own bed, curling onto his side, as fatigue drew him in again.
Hiead dreamed: the sound of rain pattered on the roof of the bungalow. The aroma of café au lait wafted, from the kitchen, to the bedroom, where he sat, wearing wine-colored, silk pajama bottoms. Guitar chords drifted through his house. Someone was in the mood for Django Reinhardt. Feet padded toward the bedroom: his companion carried in a tray, with breakfast and two cups of coffee.
"Hey, gorgeous," his obscure companion said. "Did the angels keep you company while we slept?"
Hiead laughed. "Well, one angel stayed with me last night." Hands the color of toasted almonds set the tray on the bed. Dark hair swayed a little, as the same hands cut a piece of cinnamon raisin French toast, dunked it in cane syrup, and directed the fork to Hiead's mouth.
He leaned in, taking a bite. Syrup dribbled down his chin, onto his neck and collarbone. "Are you trying to make a mess of me?"
"Do you object?"
"Not really, itooshii." Hiead took the fork, cut another piece of French toast, and added a little bacon. "Are you hungry, love?" he asked, angling the fork to meet his lover's lips.
"Oh, my, yes," he murmured, as Hiead fed him. "I'd go so far," he said, taking a strawberry from a bowl and swirling it in whipped cream, "as to say, I'm famished. And you, koishii, are you hungry?" He teased Hiead with the berry, before pressing closer, smearing the silver-haired man's face with cream.
Hiead gave his love a wicked grin, as he ate the strawberry, and rolled a strawberry in sugar and black pepper. "I'm ravenous." He leaned in, touching his lover's lips with the fruit. "Try a taste?"
His love bit into the strawberry, eyes locked onto Hiead, as he chewed and swallowed. Hiead dipped the bitten end in more sugar and pepper, then finished the berry. A warm tongue cleaned away traces of cream, then dipped down, tasting syrup.
The rain faded---as did the room---into a wheat field, where a small boy had run for shelter. Dirt streaked his face; his shirt and trousers hung from his limbs, torn and scuffed. The boy hugged his knees, sobbing, and praying that his pursuers would miss him. Footsteps crackled through the stalks; the child began running through the fields, once more.
The boy reached a riverbank, lined with cowslip and poppies, and fell to the ground. He buried his face in the damp earth, lungs aflame. He felt his heart race, as he cried.
Hiead woke, limbs heavy and aching. Ugh. What the hell's going on here? He looked across the room at Zero, who lay in his bed. And why is this happening?
Zero sat up, eyes locked on Hiead's. "Speak your peace, Gner, and move on."
Ruby eyes flashed fire. "You have not been yourself for quite some time. Explain."
Blue eyes returned a steely stare. "Don't hold your breath. Besides, if you ask me what's been going on, I'll ask the same. Now if you'll excuse me---" He got out of bed, moving past Clay, who stretched and yawned in his bed. Before he could head into the bathroom, he felt a hand on his wrist.
"Suppose I said I'd answer your questions?" Hiead whispered.
"Like you want anyone in your head," Zero replied. "Not bloody likely, sunshine."
Hiead relinquished the grip. "If you change your mind, let me know."
"Sure." When hell freezes over.
I think it's halfway there.
"Hiead, did you say something?"
"What are you talking about?"
Zero gave Hiead a puzzled look. "Maybe I will take up your offer. Just not today."
He walked into the bathroom, closing the door.
"Another day, and the two of you start in again," Clay said.
Hiead shot him a glare, and got dressed.
Author's Notes
Thank you so much for the response to "Entertaining Angels." It's only the beginning, I promise. KLMeri: I agree. But there is more to this than fear. D-chan: thank you, bella. Glad you like the direction of the story. Let me know what you think. UE: well, there are definitely a lot of side stories here. Shinigamifemme: thank you for the feedback. I will definitely write more.
Coming up: a training day gone awry. Zero's journal, Hiead's journal, and a few surprises.
I welcome all feedback, comments, praise, critique, and flames. They mean a lot.
Again, thank you so much!
Antoinette (poetisa)
P.S. Go read Authoress K.C.'s story, "Rioroute Vilgyna Belongs to Me." Interesting to see what happens after Hiead claims Zero.read! Review! And demand a sequel!
Zero lay in his bed, casting a glance around the room. Clay snored, his chest rising, and then falling, in rhythmic counterpoint to the sounds escaping his lips and nostrils. Did he invent something revolutionary, or are half-naked girls peeling grapes and feeding him baklava, again? He might just have stumbled across a new variety of orchids---or not. He's going to wake up refreshed, poised, and ready to discover more 'interesting' things. I'm really getting to hate that. Really, really getting to hate that.
He stared at Hiead, whose back was turned to him. One day I'm going to find out if he really does sleep open-eyed. Hiead's mattress rustled. Zero turned his face away, shutting his eyes. Come on, Enna, calm down. He's probably getting up to take a whiz. Bedsprings creaked; feet padded across the floor, paused, then continued to Zero's bed. Okay. He's come this way again. Don't move.
Ruby eyes fixed on the right hand, just outside the covers. Two nights ago he had a burn across his palm. Not a trace of it now. And since when did burns smell like roses and cinnamon? I still smell it on him.
A memory surfaced: Hiead, in a rented car with his father, stared out the window at the fields stretching out. His father, a black-haired man with steely eyes, glanced at the boy. "You are staying with your Tante Melisande and Nonc' Emile while I'm on Colony Sybaris-Lethe. If they ask you how that bruise got there," he touched a purple mark on Hiead's cheek, "tell them you fell from the monkey bars. Understood?" The six-year-old nodded, saying, "Yes, Papa, I understand."
The car turned, onto a gravel driveway, which led to a two-story wooden house, painted sky-blue, with gabled roofs and a large front porch. A woman in her late 50s, with iron-grey hair and violet eyes, came onto the porch. She wore a red shirt and denim overalls, with yellow gardening clogs on her feet.
Hiead's father stopped the car, and motioned for the little boy to get out. Hiead bolted up the steps, singing, "Tattie Mellie! Tattie Mellie! I'm here!" and threw himself into his great-aunt's embrace. She held the boy, covering his face with kisses.
"Hey, hey," a booming voice rang out, "Is that our petit ange come to visit?" Hiead broke from his Tattie's arms, and stepped over to a sixtyish man in khakis and a faded black shirt. Snowy hair and rose-colored eyes gave the man's carved features a strange, merry look. Emile Broussard smiled. "Come over here, little one, give your old Uncle a kiss."
The front porch vanished, replaced by darkness; Zero tensed, waiting for Hiead to walk away. Hey, Gner, get back to your side of the room. See? Eyes closed, no response to your motions---take the hint, and just go now. He's not leaving. Huh? What's this? He felt Hiead's fingers brush across the right palm.
Hiead perched on the edge of Zero's bed, taking the other boy's hand in his. Soft. He ran his fingers over the palm. No blisters, no scar tissue---not even an altered line. You'd think he'd never gotten burned in the first place. He raised Zero's hand to his face. Sweet, with a lingering spice note. An impulse overtook him, and he pressed his lips to the palm he still held, tracing a spiral with the tip of his tongue. Zero stirred, stifling a cry. Hiead relinquished the youth's hand, staring at the dark hair, and the dark blue eye, cracked open. Playing possum, are we? Fine. Have it your way. But, little mystery, I will solve you. And when I do, I will surpass you. Count on it.
Hiead touched Zero's hair---a gentle touch, almost a caress. After a few minutes, he got up and returned to his bed. Sleep overtook him, setting him adrift.
Zero exhaled, falling asleep. The fragrance of leaf mold and pine drew him to a bluff, which overlooked a city, lights twinkling, as the moon rose, in a crisp, late-autumn sky. A pair of arms wrapped around him; he nestled his head against the man's chin. "Rei," the voice said, "tell me what you see."
Zero smiled. "I see the skyline of a city, a toy-like city, with a pink pearl moon. I see stars above us, and the outline of a river in the distance. And I'm in awe." He paused. "And what do you see, koishii? I'd like to know."
His koishii rocked him, pressing kisses to the nape of his neck. "I see the city, the moon, the stars, and the water. And I see you, itooshii." The voice lowered, humming the melody of a song only they knew.
The skyline dissolved into a blinding frenzy: white bled into his eyes, as faceless hands attached needles to his arms. A constant eep-eep shocked his ears, as the masked figures jotted notes, whispering between themselves. He tried to scream; only a whine escaped his lips. A wave of nausea jolted his body; the meager breakfast he had eaten spattered across the gurney, with its hard mattress. Another set of hands reached over, scalpel in hand. His stomach lurched again.
Zero woke, running to the bathroom, praying he could make it in time. Oh, Mother Kannon, what is the matter with me? Before he could hunch over the toilet, he heard the voice of his silver-haired rival: "So, is Number 88 praying to the great god Ralph?" The door closed, as Hiead walked in, turning on a light.
"Were you dreaming, dear boy, about being in zero gravity again? Or maybe," Hiead cooed, "you lost in a fist fight to me."
Zero said nothing, too occupied with the wrenching pain in his stomach. He retched, heaved, and coughed. Crimson stained the white porcelain, swirling in the water. Hiead noticed the traces, and grabbed a towel.
"Enna," he said, "care to explain to me why you're spitting up blood?" Zero groaned, gasping for breath. "Mother Kali, but you're sweating like a pig. Oh well, I guess I've got to clean you up," Hiead said, wetting the towel. Zero shot him a baleful look. "Did I ask you to help me, Gner?"
Hiead knelt next to him, swabbing the dark-haired boy's neck, face, and forearms. "Suppose you hadn't managed to wake up. Would you have preferred to risk choking on your own sick?" He paused, while Zero's breathing normalized. "Let's get you to the infirmary."
"No," Zero replied. "It'll pass." Hiead shook his head in disbelief.
"Okay. But if you get really sick, don't ask for my help."
"Like I would in the first place." Zero looked up, catching a glint in Hiead's eye. Don't tell me I hit a nerve.
Hiead stepped to the sink, grabbing a cup and filling it with fresh water. "Come on, let's get that taste out of your mouth." He tapped Zero on the shoulder. "Now, Enna."
Zero got up, and recognized the tang in his mouth, sour and metallic. He took the cup from Hiead, rinsed, then grabbed a toothbrush. After the brushing, he rinsed again.
"What was that about?" Hiead wanted to know.
"What was what about?" And since when did you give a flying?
"Going to sleep, waking up violently sick, stuff like that."
"Why?" You had better have a convincing reason for asking.
"Why not?" Believe me, Zero, I've got plenty of reasons to ask.
"I don't care if you have plenty of reasons. One will do."
"Okay. Training would be a crashing bore. No obnoxious outbursts, no chance to see Azuma rake your ass over the grater, nobody who matches me, skill for skill."
Zero tilted his head, narrowing his eyes a bit. Oh, really? "Well thanks, I think."
Hiead chuckled. "Can't have you getting too confident now." He took Zero by the hand, and led him back to his bed. "Now get some sleep."
Zero lay down, pulling the covers over his shoulders. Hiead walked to his own bed, curling onto his side, as fatigue drew him in again.
Hiead dreamed: the sound of rain pattered on the roof of the bungalow. The aroma of café au lait wafted, from the kitchen, to the bedroom, where he sat, wearing wine-colored, silk pajama bottoms. Guitar chords drifted through his house. Someone was in the mood for Django Reinhardt. Feet padded toward the bedroom: his companion carried in a tray, with breakfast and two cups of coffee.
"Hey, gorgeous," his obscure companion said. "Did the angels keep you company while we slept?"
Hiead laughed. "Well, one angel stayed with me last night." Hands the color of toasted almonds set the tray on the bed. Dark hair swayed a little, as the same hands cut a piece of cinnamon raisin French toast, dunked it in cane syrup, and directed the fork to Hiead's mouth.
He leaned in, taking a bite. Syrup dribbled down his chin, onto his neck and collarbone. "Are you trying to make a mess of me?"
"Do you object?"
"Not really, itooshii." Hiead took the fork, cut another piece of French toast, and added a little bacon. "Are you hungry, love?" he asked, angling the fork to meet his lover's lips.
"Oh, my, yes," he murmured, as Hiead fed him. "I'd go so far," he said, taking a strawberry from a bowl and swirling it in whipped cream, "as to say, I'm famished. And you, koishii, are you hungry?" He teased Hiead with the berry, before pressing closer, smearing the silver-haired man's face with cream.
Hiead gave his love a wicked grin, as he ate the strawberry, and rolled a strawberry in sugar and black pepper. "I'm ravenous." He leaned in, touching his lover's lips with the fruit. "Try a taste?"
His love bit into the strawberry, eyes locked onto Hiead, as he chewed and swallowed. Hiead dipped the bitten end in more sugar and pepper, then finished the berry. A warm tongue cleaned away traces of cream, then dipped down, tasting syrup.
The rain faded---as did the room---into a wheat field, where a small boy had run for shelter. Dirt streaked his face; his shirt and trousers hung from his limbs, torn and scuffed. The boy hugged his knees, sobbing, and praying that his pursuers would miss him. Footsteps crackled through the stalks; the child began running through the fields, once more.
The boy reached a riverbank, lined with cowslip and poppies, and fell to the ground. He buried his face in the damp earth, lungs aflame. He felt his heart race, as he cried.
Hiead woke, limbs heavy and aching. Ugh. What the hell's going on here? He looked across the room at Zero, who lay in his bed. And why is this happening?
Zero sat up, eyes locked on Hiead's. "Speak your peace, Gner, and move on."
Ruby eyes flashed fire. "You have not been yourself for quite some time. Explain."
Blue eyes returned a steely stare. "Don't hold your breath. Besides, if you ask me what's been going on, I'll ask the same. Now if you'll excuse me---" He got out of bed, moving past Clay, who stretched and yawned in his bed. Before he could head into the bathroom, he felt a hand on his wrist.
"Suppose I said I'd answer your questions?" Hiead whispered.
"Like you want anyone in your head," Zero replied. "Not bloody likely, sunshine."
Hiead relinquished the grip. "If you change your mind, let me know."
"Sure." When hell freezes over.
I think it's halfway there.
"Hiead, did you say something?"
"What are you talking about?"
Zero gave Hiead a puzzled look. "Maybe I will take up your offer. Just not today."
He walked into the bathroom, closing the door.
"Another day, and the two of you start in again," Clay said.
Hiead shot him a glare, and got dressed.
Author's Notes
Thank you so much for the response to "Entertaining Angels." It's only the beginning, I promise. KLMeri: I agree. But there is more to this than fear. D-chan: thank you, bella. Glad you like the direction of the story. Let me know what you think. UE: well, there are definitely a lot of side stories here. Shinigamifemme: thank you for the feedback. I will definitely write more.
Coming up: a training day gone awry. Zero's journal, Hiead's journal, and a few surprises.
I welcome all feedback, comments, praise, critique, and flames. They mean a lot.
Again, thank you so much!
Antoinette (poetisa)
P.S. Go read Authoress K.C.'s story, "Rioroute Vilgyna Belongs to Me." Interesting to see what happens after Hiead claims Zero.read! Review! And demand a sequel!