5: Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild...




"Merry Christmas, Ken!" called the Christmas tree.


Omi's head poked out from the side of the tree. A very enthusiastically-decorated tree, as Omi was never one to conceal his excitement. "Merry Christmas." I found myself returning his grin, only a little bit more subdued.


I noted a trio of colorfully-wrapped boxes resting underneath the green leaves. Omi was the only one who felt any commitment to buy us all gifts and actually wrap them to let you know that it was carefully fashioned in his head for at least a week. The rest of us don't make a habit of buying gifts every year, and I admittedly feel no shame for that. Sometimes we end up giving something anyway, usually with an almost-defensive, "I wouldn't have bought it under normal circumstances, but I thought you'd really like it." A shared moment of knowing fully well the bond you have, that is between the two of you alone. And all is back to normal after that split second.


Omi is unmistakably rubbing off on all of us, though, and even Aya can't claim to be an exception. Omi is just masterfully pure and gentle, and that's something you just can't fight. It made me want to give Omi something incredible, something no one else could give him. It didn't help that prior to Christmas, I had already received a present from him. Granted it was my birthday, but still. I would've felt guilty for taking so much I didn't deserve, if only it weren't from Omi. He used his mind-bending ability on me, allowing me to think that the world owed it to me to make me feel loved.


I had found him helplessly covered in flour 2 days ago. He had already began apologizing profusely before I could ask him to elaborate on how he managed to arrive at his present predicament. I swear, at times he's so cute it makes my head ache.


"It's okay, you dork, really. What happened? What's with the flour?"


"I..." And the cerise came to heat his cheeks. "It'syourbithdayandIwantedtogiveyousomethingspecial." Blush blush.


And no matter how rushed the delivery was, I could feel his sincere statement warm my heart. I wanted to make him repeat what he had said, just so I could hear it again and maybe, if possible, drink the affection behind the words just a bit more. But I took mercy on my poor self-control. Chances were that if he repeated it, I would've done something that went past gratitude and that he quite possibly wouldn't have appreciated.


He explained that Yako had been in the picture, hence the supernatural mess. Yako had evolved -- er, grown -- significantly in just a few weeks, and the havoc he threatened to wreak had also increased tenfold.


Omi left me to bathe after that, as I tried (and miserably failed) to stop imagining the aforementioned event. I had the same success (or lack thereof) when trying not to include myself in this mental image. Anyway, he managed to present me a batch of decent cookies by the end of the day. It left me wondering how he contrived that, as most of Omi's accomplishments tend to do.


And now, here I am, being amazed by his tree-enhancing prowess. I suddenly wondered why our furriest resident wasn't there to ruin it. I asked the blond head, buried in endless ornaments, of Yako's whereabouts.


As if summoned by my thoughts, Yako came running out of Omi's room. I stopped Omi's anxiety attack by picking up the heavy load of fur, thus ruining the dog's plans of mass decor destruction. After letting out a sigh of relief, Omi's full lips displayed an adorable pout. "Now I'm going to have to make sure he doesn't completely destroy the store. I really wanted to go out today."


The giddy part of me wished to say, "Your wish is my command", or something equally lame. The me part of me simply wanted to erase that pout, albeit its aesthetic value. "You can leave him with me. I wouldn't mind."


"But I wanted to go out with you," he whined mildly. Heat rushed to our faces simultaneously, with the realization of the meaning behind Omi's words.


Okay, there was no way in hell that his animal would stop me from going out with Omi.


"We can leave him with Aya." Oh, nice to see you again, stupidity. Naturally, in my moment of unmitigated euphoria, I presumed that Omi had wanted to go out with me, and me alone.


The belated warning bells stopped ringing in my ears as I got distracted by the grin spreading across my friend's face. "Great idea!" And it wasn't long before I mirrored his grin, this time, perhaps a more retardedly happy version of it.


Fortunately for us, Yako was a big fan of Aya's, much to the latter's dismay. We were out the door before Aya would know of the impending doom that had befallen upon him. I should probably feel guilty about this, I really should. It's just that, nothing was further from my mind when Omi took my wrist and led me to some place I couldn't really pay attention to. With a bright and exhilarated smile, he said, "We'll make it up to Aya. Some day." What? Who?


We sat down side by side, and I couldn't for the life of me care where we were. Omi's eyes suddenly shot heavenward, rudely interrupting my staring at them. My own eyes followed suit, gaze landing on a mistletoe. We turn away from each other in an awkward instance, neither of us willing to be the first to laugh nervously and shrug it off.


Which is precisely what we ended up doing. I lose track of who started the quiet chuckling, but I welcomed the dissemination of unfamiliar tension. After all... a mistletoe!? Corny, childish, silly, and you really shouldn't be aroused because of a goddamn plant. Alright, it wasn't exactly the mistletoe that was causing my unease, rather, it was...


"Omi?" 10,000 points for keeping a steady voice.


"Yeah?"


"...Why do you buy us gifts every Christmas time?"


He swung his legs from his chair, the epitome of carefreeness. "People normally do that. For those who mean a lot to them."


"But Aya and Yohji and I don't always give gifts. Do you think you don't mean a lot to us?"


Omi laughed at that. I'm afraid he flat out giggled. "No, of course not. Gift-giving isn't a gauge of how much you care, I know you care for me. You're my family." I tried not to burn when he mentioned the 'f' word. It made me feel incestuous. "If I knew you back then, you would've come for me. You would've rescued me, or maybe it might not have even happened." The tears came as slowly as his voice decrescendoed. My heart ached for him, ached for his. "No one's ever cared for me like that before."


It hurt to listen to him, but I was becoming more and more of a glutton for punishment each day. I know it wasn't helpful, but I just offered the most modest of touches on his shoulder. He slumped into me sideways, and my arms wrap themselves around him, letting us lean into each other. "You know I'd do anything under my power to keep you safe."


/Why is it so difficult...?


'It.' Again surfaces that 'it' is the vaguest pronoun in all of this freaking universe.
/


"It's made everything worthwhile." He's making my heart beat irregularly again.


And I have to tell him. "...But, do you really even know? How much I care for you?"


/It... was something. (There's your epiphany!) Something that made your eyes so beautiful that they're difficult to fathom, and so beautiful that you feel coerced into always trying to. But there never ever ever will be metaphors to come close./


"I care a lot." Bravo, vocabulary. "I care a lot about you... more than I care about Aya and Yohji." More than I care about myself.


"I knew," he said, sounding pretty much amazed. "I just don't know why. I..." Say it. My very soul and being and essence were on their knees and just praying and begging with all my blood vessels for him to say it say it say it... "I care about you, too, more than anyone else."


/'Beautiful!' Hah! But then again, almost all words are banal and completely lose their meaning, whenever I think about Your eyes. Peaks of heaven through blond strands, liquid emotions that outsize your face and contain so many secret depths at the same time. Really, imagine me, exposed to all of your blue eyes. What then, if you showed your soul to me all the time, twice at a glance?/


And my body moved on its own accord, so drawn to him. So willing to trade in my dignity for a soul-breakingly short moment of glory. Not caring if my heart would probably pay hell for its actions.


/I'd... I would probably.../


Closer. Because he's just. Right. There. And closer. To...


/I would explode, I guess./


Being...


/We're talking, Ken's insides smattered all over the floor./


...kissed.


/And, combustion?/ Solar flares. Red dust, blue dust, star dust. Shimmering. Sparkling, imploding. And Warmth. It's Golden, Incandescent and Luminous and... hot.


"Ken."


And then there was Aya.


Omi and I both let out none too manly screams and jumped away from each other upon hearing our dear friend's voice call my name. What the hell could he possibly want that's worth interrupting the greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my entire existence? My mind screamed at Aya to "go the fuck away". Aya had other plans.


"Ken," he repeated. "...I'm sorry."


"What?!" Somewhere past my rage, it occurred to me that Aya was apologizing.


"I'm sorry, Ken, but this..." Aya gripped my shoulders tightly, sober eyes forcing me to look at them. "This isn't real."


What?!! It... No.


No.


It's...


My eyes snapped open. My heart was slamming against my chest.


I was in bed, tangled in blankets and pillows and sheets and despair.


It was a dream...


It had been so real. I had been so fooled by my own illusion. He had been mine. But... it didn't happen. I held my arms tightly, punishing myself for even conjuring up such fantasies, then releasing myself from them. I couldn't endure the dull pain of how it seemed so real, and how it wasn't real at all. My whole body wracked with silent tears, that which I didn't want anyone else to hear. I was trembling. I wanted it so bad, it was killing me. He's a murderer, in the truest sense of the word, and I could physically feel my soul withering.


After I sedated myself, I lay my body in an angry thud, willing the sinking ache in my chest to subside. I was reduced to shivers of abated tears, eyes being periodically shut tight in time with the worsening nausea ministered by my chest. It wasn't the first time I've had... dreams before, about Omi. But nothing was ever so powerful. It was easily more intense than the more physical scenarios I usually dreamt of.


I had mastered it -- being content with simply loving him, not needing his love in return. I knew I had to get that contentment back, and I had to battle the remnants of hope caused by that cruel dream.


Sometimes, no matter how long, or how much you love someone, they won't love you back... and somehow you have to learn to be okay with that... Somehow.




[[ Argh. This was not supposed to happen. ^_^' I'll be nicer next chapter, I (almost) feel bad for being such an intemperate sadist to him. So if you have any spare bear hugs, I think now's an appropriate time to give some to Kenken. Hint: one hug per review. ^_^ ]]