R e d S e a

Part Three

'And now, let's see what we have here! Congratulations, Mister Hidaka, you have won yourself a flight to Oki - '

Youji stopped mid-sentence, flipped through the stack of air tickets and false passports in his hand, then looked up at Manx. 'Okinawa?'

The same amazement was echoed in Ken and Omi's 'eh?' and in Ran's silently surprised look.

The unnaturally red curls that rested just on her shoulders bounced a little as Manx spun around on her high heels, and her painted lips smiled before replying. 'The mission will be around a week after your arrival. I'll tell you more when it's time.' She glanced around before continuing. 'Familiarise yourselves with scuba-diving and relax before I contact you again. You'll need it.'

Manx was gone before they knew it as they were looking at their passports and tickets. Ran retreated to the backroom, Ken went out to get drinks, and Omi disappeared off somewhere, leaving Youji to himself.

Youji hated that. He didn't want to be alone. Putting aside what Manx had given him, he was at the fridge taking out the remaining half dozen cans of beer before he realised. Of all the strange places they had to go, it was Okinawa, the reputed paradise of Japan which was most probably flooding with tourists and sunshine. And of all the moments he felt like talking to someone, be it discussing their upcoming trip or just any plain old non-sense he loved talking about, everyone just had to vanish off doing their own business. Sod's Law at all its glory.

He was half way through the beer, the snacks and the re-run soap on TV when he sensed that he was no longer alone.

There she was, sitting beside him and smirking. 'Well?'

Youji shrugged, reaching for the Doritos, ate some and mumbled a sound in recognition. Pretense of calm. It didn't escape Neu's eyes. It could be a woman's sixth sense, or her being observant, or that she knew him too well. It didn't matter how she knew.

All she wanted was this man's misery, and she would get what she aimed for. Just by sitting here beside him, Neu knew his pathetic defense would crumble. Youji could not stand her presence because she was not material, and she was not Asuka. Perfect.

Poor man. His life would soon be a living Hell.

'Aren't you going out tonight? Find some hot woman who will let you onto her bed just so that you can squeeze the breath out of her?'

Not looking at Neu, Youji mutely let her go on.

'Isn't it about time you rethink about your existence? I killed with a purpose. How about you? What kind of sick pleasure do you get when you strangle those women? What are you, a mantis? You just fucking mate, don't you. You're no man. And you dared to even think you can take me from Masafumi.'

On and on she went. Youji stared at his beer can, still not lifting his face because he didn't dare to. What Neu said was all true, that was the heart of the whole thing. He could not face her - she was only voicing out all the buried arguments he knew still existed somewhere within him. As long as he lived, the sin followed.

The main door opened. Neu's image flickered like an old television's screen, and then she was not there anymore. Ken stepped in, plastic bags in both hands. Youji went over to help putting the drinks into the fridge, not commenting on the fact that Ken bought nothing alcoholic. The gesture was kindly intended, Youji knew that. He had been pushing it and shoving his friends away. Youji didn't mean to do that, but he never caught himself in time. It was time to clear his head and try to live again with his friends.

'You owe Aya money, by the way.'

'Since when?'

'The last time you came back from a pub, he paid for your bill for the nth time.' Ken picked up the plastic bags and scrunched them. 'You know how he is with money. You better pay him before he chases after you with a sword...'

Youji pushed the fridge door close, leaving the TV the only illuminator in the room. He could barely see Ken's outline, not to mention his expression of confusion, in this darkness. But Youji could tell by Ken's tone that there were unsaid words.

'Hm?'

Ken cleared his throat before continuing, not sure of his own words at all. 'You're trying Aya's patience, man. He's been the only one to put up with you and God knows why that is, but you better check yourself. If he catches you mumbling to yourself or drinking or whatever, we can't guarantee that he won't snap. It ain't gonna be pretty, you know.'

Youji closed his eyes briefly, crossing his arms and shrugging to Ken's seriousness. It was serious, of course, but in a different way. Ken was hinting something without knowing it - that Youji was exploiting on Ran's humanity just the moment he regained it, and Ran would eventually draw within himself once again because of it.

'Leave it to me, Ken.'

Rose bulbs. Stunningly red in the glass cabinet, they remained frozen behind the slight mist of condensation on the clear glass, as if trying to hide their presence. But beautiful things never go unnoticed. Beautiful things have always been exploited upon, in the past and now.

Ran reached inside and took out a dead rose, its intense colour making his skin look even paler than usual. He had heard the conversation outside - Youji and Ken did not try to hush their voices as it was not a secret they talked about. Hardly ever did any of them speak in lowered voices anymore, simply because they relied so much upon complete understanding and trust in each other in order to just survive.

To survive, yes. They all wanted to live on, there was no doubt to it, no matter how heavy their - possibly self-assumed - burden had become, because they wanted to see the end of it, whether their existence was worthwhile; whether they had made a positive difference; whether there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Sometimes, Ran felt that one of them wanted to let go of that belief. Every one of them had their weakest moments, because despite the façade they put on, they were only humans. And then the others would try their damn hardest to hold up the fallen one again, out of companionship and because they know that if one of them bent and wielded, the rest would crumble under the pressure as well. The intention was selfish but true.

This time, Youji was falling, yet no one knew why. Youji would not tell. Complete understanding, yes, but there were things in one's life that one can never tell another, not even to his closest, because telling it meant disproving one's beliefs, recognising an utter failure and the illusion of hope. Ran understood and respected that fact. He didn't try to, although he wanted to, question why Youji fell. He just wanted the man to take the hand he offered so that he could help Youji up the abyss again.

Twirling the flower between his fingers, Ran sighed and made a mental note not to dwell on those thoughts too much. Impractical thoughts were unproductive. Unproductive thoughts were impractical. Etcetera, etcetera, ad infinitum.

'Yo.'

Ran did not jump, he had trained himself to conceal weaknesses like this, but he was surprised. How long had the subject of his thoughts been standing here for? Violet eyes gave Youji a flitting glance, then he studied the rose again. 'What happened?'

Smiling smugly, Youji ignored what Ran also tried to ask in the same question, and walked over to his friend. 'Figured that the flowers needed more air conditioning in the summer. Looks like the theory's wrong.'

Not sure of what to do with the situation and the rose, Ran puts it back into the cabinet. Dead behind glass, the roses looked like a museum exhibit. A representation of death that was good to look at. Beautifully dead.

'Come on, stop that brooding. We're going to Okinawa! Water skiing, scuba diving, sun sea sand, beach babes, all of that!'

Ran tries to pay no attention to the arm swung across his shoulders but failed as Youji pushed him out of the room, doing his best to sound like a walking holiday brochure.

Casting a final glance at the misted glass cabinet, Ran wondered, even though everybody call him beautiful and used roses to describe him because of his hair - even Omi, Ken and Youji did at one point or another - if he was only an exhibit that looked good behind glass but considered dead, unlovable.

It seemed fitting. He was an assassin. No one was supposed to love him.

The group of islands merely two hours' flight from Tokyo felt like a paradise detached from the breathlessness one felt in the capital city.

The sunshine was great, especially for KenKen to get his tan as he scorched himself alive and for Ran to make himself look less like a halogen lamp, as Youji put it. As if to test that prediction, Ken sat under the midday sun on the porch of a simple 2-floored house Persia had provided them with, one like what a holiday maker would rent just to get away from the commerciality of the hotels. Glancing over from where he sat, he could just see Youji stretching out on the couch, turning to face the wall instead of the TV. The man was saying something Ken could not hear from that far away.

Ran was out to sort out their training sessions for operating in water and Omi was upstairs doing computer work, so Ken decided Youji must be speaking to him, and he got up.

'Hey man, what did you say?'

Youji's form stiffened on the couch, then he turned around, rather wearily, to look at Ken. He also glanced around as if trying to find something. 'Are you sizzling up yet?'

Youji was a good actor, but he wasn't in shape, and Ken was no fool. Ken paused for a moment, weighing his choices. Leave Youji alone, or ask him if he was okay? Youji would prefer the first option, but that would not be beneficial to anyone.

'What's the problem, Youji?'

Youji left the house in a daze. He pushed past Ran, shoulders bumping, without noticing, and staggered his way into the sunshine.

In that fraction of a second, when he saw Youji's eyes, empty of emotions and purpose, Ran turned around and chased after him. Those eyes were too much like his own after Takatori attacked his family that Ran could not leave the man alone, because he knew Youji needed him. He was the only who understood what the wavy-haired one needed at that moment.

Youji walked. He didn't know his way around the island, but he walked. Goddammit, Ken and Omi only saw him as a freak. 'I see dead people', huh? This was life, not some fucking Hollywood movie. This was no joke. He knew he shouldn't have told them, and hell, he knew so many things were wrong and he still did them. His whole fucking life was one fucking big mistake.

Eventually Youji became aware of the sound of crashing water, of waves hitting rocks. His feet carried him in that direction, unaware of the redhead following after him, calling his name but not daring to touch him in any way, as if knowing his sanity was a guitar string wounded too tightly it would snap at the gentlest touch.

They walked until they reached what must be the edge of this island, where large rocks piled randomly, constantly destroying waves as waves wore them over the years in return. It was a suicidal, pointless power struggle, like just about all wars in the world. Not giving a damn about getting wet, since he couldn't find the strength to give anything a damn at that moment, Youji sat down on one of the larger rocks, and finally took a look around him. Since arriving in Okinawa, he never really paid attention to the scenery and surroundings.

How long had he been walking? One could only see the lasts of the dying rays of the sun as it sank below the horizon, lighting the thin clouds and the sky all shades of reds and oranges. For a moment, it was as if the sky had been tainted by blood. All Youji could see was the bleeding sky, its blood soaking into the ocean as the rays reflected on the water surface, giving it an equally beautiful yet horrid orange colour. The air was so damp and hot that when the winds raised it felt as if someone was breathing onto him, drenching his skin and clothes in their perspiration. But, despite that, this could have been Eden because his mind was silent, there was no one to accuse him of insanity or to laugh at his 'wild imagination' or to haunt him and try to tip his balance or to judge him. There was a blessed - or may be not so blessed - silence.

He almost jumped when he saw Ran standing just ten feet behind him with a face full of confusion, wondering what he should do.

'The hell! Are you another ghost, Aya? You don't make a sound when you walk?'

Ran frowned. Arms crossed, he spat back. 'You just didn't hear me.'

A thought crossed Youji's mind. Now he was being accused of not listening. Who wasn't listening? Who didn't take him seriously? He didn't reply.

'What's with you now? We're in Okinawa. Water skiing, scuba diving, sun sea sand... like you've said. Yet you look more worn out than you were in Tokyo.'

Oh, great shock, a few full sentences from Fujimiya Ran. Youji was glad he didn't blow up at the redhead just now. Ran didn't need any misdirected anger, he was just being a friend. Youji told Ken he wouldn't exploit on Ran anymore, and he intend to follow his word. What Youji had to do was stay calm and tell Ran the same thing he told Ken and Omi and hope for the best - that no one would call Manx to get him a psychiatrist who would pronounce him nuts beyond salvation.

If only one person he trusted would believe him.

'I'll let you in on a little secret, Aya...'

But would anyone believe in something so ridiculous?

[onto part 4]