"Oops."
- Linus Torvalds
A scream. No; something too horrible to be a scream, echoing through the alleyways and streets, raw-throated, so terse it makes even those who hear it feel hoarse.
Sorata pauses. "What in the world was that?"
Kamui, confused, uninvolved, pauses because Sorata did, and looks. "I don't know."
"Well, let's go see!" emotes the monk, and bounds off in that direction without hesitation, while Kamui
hesitates
then follows. Not as if he Knows some special thing, but as if he just...
doesn't want to be alone.
And so together, they come on a scene of horror, on an image unforgettable of a man they know sprawled in another's blood, clenching that empty body to himself and trying to scream again.
"...Subaru?" Kamui asks, and then everything goes insane.
Kamui sat by Subaru's bed. He had not left to eat; had not left to shower. He had visited the bathroom only a few times and always under duress, but had never taken more than a few minutes. Karen brought him food; Sorata brought him company. But between the three of them, they could not force Subaru to wake up.
Of course, Kamui partly blamed himself for this. When they'd found Subaru, he was covered in blood, clutching the limp body of Yuzuriha to his chest, weeping so hard that his breath came in haggard gasps, and when he'd seen them approaching, he'd tried to run.
Perhaps it was fortunate that Subaru's grief made him less agile than his norm; perhaps not. Either way, he was not fast enough to escape Kamui.
There'd been a brief struggle; a degrading exhibition of panic on the part of both participants, and then at the last moment, Kamui had lost control. When it became clear that Subaru meant to run away again and would let nothing stop him, Kamui had done the only thing that his pained loss brought to mind. He'd pulled back one fist and socked Subaru in the jaw.
All of that had been two days ago; Subaru had not woken up. And right now, Kamui would have given anything he had to take that hit back.
"Guess that's what happens when a Kamui hits a non-Kamui," Sorata softly attempted to joke, and rested one hand on Kamui's shoulder. In his other hand was a tray carrying two platee of udon and several skewers of meat.
Kamui ignored him completely.
"Hey. It won't do him any good if you fall over from being hungry," Sorata tried again, moving to kneel beside Kamui - since he'd learned that blocking Kamui's view of Subaru was a Very Bad Thing - and look into his eyes.
Kamui resolutely stared forward, as if willing Subaru to move.
"Uh... Kamui, I don't think that's going to really help the situation - "
"Shut up. He can hear you," Kamui said with nary a blink, and fortunately, did not see the look Sorata shot him.
"Ooookay. Sure thing, Kamui," Sorata said, and put the tray down beside Kamui, on the desk. Snatching up one of the plates and three skewers, he nodded farewell and stalked back to the kitchen.
Karen was there, wearing an apron longer than her skirt, and pensively doing the dishes. "Any change?" she asked.
"Nah. In either one of 'em," Sorata muttered, and flopped into one of the kitchen chairs. Scowling, he began to nibble the udon. "Maybe we'll get lucky and Kamui will pass out so we can hook him up to an IV."
"Maybe." She dried a plate.
"Or maybe Fuuma will decide now's the time for the Final Battle and it'll all be over before we can say 'boo.'"
"Maybe."
Sorata grinned. "Or maybe Subaru's gonna wake up, realize Kamui's devoted like a dog, and confess his eternal love."
Karen turned and looked at him. "And maybe I'm actually a blonde."
Sorata blinked for a moment, then laughed; he laughed longer than he should, putting his udon in severe risk of being dropped on the floor, but it was clear he needed the stress relief. Weakly, Karen smiled; then she turned back to her dishes.
She asked quietly: "So has there been any word from Arashi?"
Sorata's laugh cut off as sharply as if he'd been choked. "...why do you want to know?" he demanded after a moment, defensive; and Karen was spared from answering because there was a cry from the bedroom. Both froze; then as one, they raced for the hall.
Subaru was awake, and he was still trying to get away. Kamui's tears landed on both of them as they struggled.
"No, no, you don't underSTAND - "
"I understand! I understand better than you do! If you go again, if you leave again, he'll keep doing shit to you! You're not going anywhere!"
"No, NO, Kamui, you don't understand, I HAVE to be not here!"
"QUIET!!"
Everyone in the room went still. There is something about a roused woman, wrote Dickens, especially if she add to all her other strong passions the fierce impulses of recklessness and despair. Few men like to provoke such a thing; and in this case, the woman in question was not only used to dealing with men in all conditions, but she could control fire, and had had a very bad week.
Knowing she'd re-established enough control to ensure at least a few moments of sanity, Karen crossed to the bed quickly and gave Subaru a tight, full-hearted hug. Surprised and unsure, Subaru stiffened, then tentatively hugged her as well.
Karen pulled back enough to eye him critically. "I don't know whether to slap you or hug you again."
"Kasumi-san," Subaru tried, desperate that someone should see reason. "You have to let me go."
"We have to do no such thing."
"We're not. We're NOT!" Kamui started, and Karen shot him a look; after a moment, he quieted.
"No, you don't understand," pleaded Subaru for what felt to him like the thousandth time. "If I stay here, you're going to die. You're all going to die."
"We're all going to die anyway, Subaru."
"No! Not like this!"
"Subaru!" Karen's voice was sharp; Subaru flinched, and Karen's tone gentled. "Don't you think you owe us an explanation?"
"He doesn't owe us. It's all over. He's not leaving," Kamui interrupted, and Karen gave him another Look.
"Kamui, if you cannot control yourself, I'm going to ask you to leave."
It was Kamui's turn to flinch. Looking betrayed, he fell silent.
"Now. Subaru."
"I can just make a maraboshi and get out of here," Subaru threatened vaguely, and Karen sighed.
"Yes, you probably could," she responded. "But then what? You would keep running, keep perhaps being in denial; and eventually, Fuuma - "
"Kamui," corrected Subaru automatically, and to Karen's credit, her voice did not waver.
" - would just hunt us down anyway. It isn't going to make the Final Day come any sooner; whatever he does in the meantime can be changed." She checked Subaru's eyes. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say, honey?"
Subaru looked down; he expression was ragged. "He's going to make me kill you all," he said weakly, and covered his face with his hands.
Karen murmured something comforting and, pulling Subaru into her arms, began to rock him. Sorata watched intently, more amazed than embarassed; but Kamui responded by standing up and leaving the room.
"Kamui," Karen said softly, but did not go after him.
There was no plan involved. Kamui walked out the front door, and began to run.
He needed to run. Needed to pretend the mess he'd just left didn't actually exist, needed to get away long enough to think. He ran for what seemed like miles; flew for part of it, maybe, crossing over buildings that stood in his way rather than going around, and finally ended his race from pain when he could feel the presence of his one and own Twin Star.
Kamui's breath was uneven. "Why?" he asked the daylight, knowing Fuuma could hear him and not caring who else did. "WHY? Why are you doing this? Does bringing change mean you're supposed to BREAK people like this? Fuuma... WHY!?"
Only the breeze replied at first; and then a familiar, hated, loved touch slid around Kamui's waist and pulled him against his opposite's chest.
"Because you looked away," was Fuuma's simple reply. More silence; Kamui fought his tears more strongly than he'd ever fought the man who used to be his friend.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Kamui finally said, throat thick with emotion; and then, he growled. "But you stop. You better stop hurting him. You leave him alone..." Kamui turned in Fuuma's arms, and there was anger in his eyes. "Or I swear to you, the Final Day won't even matter to me anymore. You leave him alone or I'm not playing by your rules anymore. I'll kill you. Do you hear me, Fuuma? I'll kill you." His voice choked and he had to stop.
Almost compassionate, Fuuma ran his thumb over Kamui's cheekbone, wiping away one tear, and if there was a hint of possessiveness in his eyes, Kamui did not comment. "You're so pretty when you talk about death, Kamui," he said.
Kamui jerked out of his grasp, hitching. "Get away from me. Just... get the fuck away from me."
Fuuma smiled. He left. And it was only after he'd gone that Kamui realized he had not promised to stay away from Subaru at all.
Suddenly filled with deep, rebellious fear, Kamui raced toward home.
---------
Four . 2: Beta
--------
Kanoe had never asked for much in life.
The ability to dreamgaze she could begrudge because those who had it seemed to carry physical burdens in proportion to their power. But there were other things; things that should have, would have been perfectly attainable if just a little more Fate had looked her way. Petulant, she sat on the throne that Yuuto built and studied her hands.
It wasn't as if there were anything else to do.
All the dragons of heaven and earth had scattered. Seemingly more concerned with their petty, personal problems than the reason for which they'd been born, they had abandoned their causes and left her to wonder yet again why she had not been one of them herself. She would not have hesitated; she felt the earth. It cried out for change - a change that only the /Kamui/ of earth could bring, which the dragons of earth were supposed to help.. but the rest of them had turned out to be useless.
Usless dragons, one and all. Human dragons; that could be the problem. All humans needed to die, she knew, in order to bring the change the earth cried for - although the fact that the /Kamui/ of earth had thus far only bothered to kill the dragons of his own team and not his opposing star's bothered her, more than just a little. Shivering once, Kanoe shifted delicately in her chair and thought of other things.
Kanoe considered her options. She could use her abilities of dream-spying to pinpoint the location of every dragon, heaven or earth - but what would be the point? Sure, Satsuki was still physically around with Yuuto not far behind, but that didn't mean they hadn't abandoned her just the same as everyone else. She was as alone as she'd been when her sister had been her only companion; and since Tokyo still stood strong and tall up above with only patches of destruction, it seemed fairly obvious that the situation was not slated to improve any time soon.
Was NO one responsible anymore?
She was hungry. With a flout only feasible for the long-legged, Kanoe left her throne and stalked toward the small kitchen, and was very surprised to find Yuuto waiting there.
"BEAST throw you out of the bedroom again?" Kanoe snarked as she walked past him to the fridge.
Yuuto, apparently doing "adorable" today instead of "sex fiend," beamed at her. "Why, I don't know what you're talking about, Kanoe! I've made crepes - do you want some?"
Kanoe sighed, hesitated, then swung the refrigerator door closed. "I might as well. We don't seem to have anything else to eat in this place, anyway."
Smoothly, Yuuto served her half a dozen, then smiled and settled back to watch. But Kanoe was not in a playful mood; she simply ate, with no showing off and nary a tongue or come-hither to be found.
"Satsuki says something's wrong with our Kamui," Yuuto casually shared, and pushed away from the counter as if to leave. "Well, good night!"
Kanoe choked on crepe. "Mh!" She swallowed. "Hey! Don't you DARE walk away from me after saying that!"
Yuuto stopped and turned in the door, innocently curious. "I'm sorry. Should I have explained?"
Kanoe's look could have melted butter.
"All right, all right," Yuuto said, hands up as if to fend off her anger. "It's nothing to get so upset about, Kanoe," he said, which might or might not have been a lie. "Satsuki-chan just pointed out that BEAST has been spitting out some figures that don't make sense, given the Kamui's proclivities. Things have changed, that's all."
"Changed?" Kanoe's tone was sharp. Abandoning her crepes, she stalked at him quickly enough that his only response was an endearingly puzzled expression. To her surrpise more than his, she grabbed his lapels.
"Yip!" he said.
Kanoe was rapidly becoming convinced that this was the worst day she'd ever had in her life. "WHAT. Is wrong. With our Kamui?"
"Hey, I didn't say anything was wrong with him!" Yuuto hastily said, allowing himself to look slightly nervous with his hands still in the air. "I just said things are changing. And if you want the details on that, you need to ask Satsuki, not me." His voice softened and developed an extra skin of smooth. "Don't shoot the messenger, Kanoe."
Kanoe glowered, and Yuuto wondered, for a moment, if she was aware how ugly her mouth was when she twisted it into that kind of frown. "I'm going to talk to Satsuki," Kanoe announced, and releasing Yuuto with a tiny shove, marched out of the kitchen.
Yuuto's cheer faded as he watched her go. Suddenly he looked old and very, very weary.
"Well. That's the end of her," he sighed, and went to put away the crepes.
Satsuki was not there.
This was something of a surprise; Kanoe was sure that Satsuki had not left the building, and when Satsuki was in the building, she was plugged into the machine.
But she wasn't here now. Frowning, Kanoe entered the bottom level room that housed BEAST's monstrosity and searched.
"I've been waiting for you."
Startled, Kanoe spun around, recognizing the voice but too shocked to hide her intial reaction. Before her stood the man about whom she was inquiring; easily, she slipped back into her role of seductress and approached him.
"Kamui," she said, one hand over her heart as if relieved. And then, following her own self-made script, took his hand in hers and placed it on her ample chest. "Oh, Kamui; you startled me."
Fuuma's expression never changed. This was normal; he had never shown any response to her approaches before, and perhaps this was why she never saw it coming.
Before she knew what was happening, his hand was around her throat, and he began to squeeze.
"Nng... ock!" she managed, for all the good it did, and stared at him with horror in her eyes. Realizing that he was lifting her off the floor, she began to kick, trying frantically to get a foot hold or force him to release her.
He did neither. "Change?" Fuuma said, softly, as if responding to some inner dialogue. "You want the world to change? It will... but not in the way you want."
Kanoe tried to scream; unable to even exhale, the sound did not even qualify as a squeak. She was beginning to turn very red.
"Because," he replied, as if she'd asked him why, "I don't want to anymore."
Her eyes bugged; he turned and slammed her against the wall, and they bugged a little more.
"That's right. I don't want to anymore. You can blame it on my opposing star. He is, after all - " Fuuma pressed harder, enough to make something in Kanoe's body crack wetly - "the reason I live."
His lips pulled back, and suddenly there was an expression growing on his face that should not, could not have been what it was; could not - because the dark Kamui existed for only one purpose. He wasn't supposed to want. He wasn't supposed to hate; but the look he wore was beyond, so far beyond any breed of loathing Kanoe had ever witnessed before that as her vision began to swim before her bulging eyesm she was grateful - because it meant she would no longer see his face.
Fuuma pressed harder.
Kanoe's body reacted. It tried to throw up - but there was nowhere for the vomit to go, and it clogged the remaining, strained space between her mouth and her gullet. Her lungs were burning, water poured ceaselessly from her eyes, and still his look did not change; and she was afraid. The hand she raised to try to scratch him, puncture an eye, something, he grabbed and smacked back against the concrete wall hard enough to break it and make it useless.
Again, Kanoe tried to scream; again, she could not. Vomit and blood somehow began to leak from her mouth. Her vision was gone, but still the image of his rictus burned behind her eyelids, and she wished it would be over. Just completely, finally over.
"As you wish," Fuuma said sweetly between bared teeth, and very neatly snapped her neck.
Kanoe twitched; then she fell to the floor like a rag doll. Freed from his hand, her throat held its crushed position for a few moments more then opened, spilling its contents in a wet, hissing exhale. Fuuma looked at her for just a moment more, his face once again calm. Then he turned and simply left her there.
Yuuto stood by the door, leaning on the frame; he straightened quickly as Fuuma approached.
"You and BEAST are to go to Kyoto," Fuuma said to him simply, and handed him a small slip of paper with an address.
Yuuto looked at it; his eyebrows shot up, either because he recognized the home or knew the opulence of its neighborhood. "Anything else?"
"Messy is good," Fuuma replied with the mock-cheerfulness he sometimes had when the mock-compassion was no longer appropriate; and without another word, he abandoned Yuuto to his orders and left the government building.
Yuuto sighed. He looked at BEAST, the absurd machine he'd fought once for the privilege of touching BEAST's rider. "We'd better go," he said to it.
Like a hulking, video-game robot, the thing in the center of the room shifted, wires slithering menacingly across the floor.
"Don't get mad at ME," Yuuto replied, frowning a little as the wires came toward him. "It isn't my fault we can't wait for her to come back. You know the drill; our Kamui is our god." He said it only slightly bitterly, as if the impingement on his freedom bothered him more than the order to kill.
BEAST stopped advancing, but is wires continued to undulate in annoyance.
"Yeah, yeah," Yuuto replied. "I love you, too." And he went to take a shower.