Important author note:
I recommend downloading the song "Rain" by Yoko Kanno before reading this chapter. If you play the music while you read, it gives you the overall feeling of darkness and depression that I'm trying to convey in this installment. Not to mention, it's really a very nice piece (in my opinion). It really makes you feel for Ken and wonder what he really went through to make him act the way he does. You may also find the song under Steve Conte or Cowboy Bebop.
Against All Odds
Chapter Three
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Musical interlude to Ken's past…
"I don't feel a thing
And I stopped remembering
Days are just like moments turned to hours
Mother used to say
If you want, you'll find a way
But Mother never danced through fire showers
I don't hear a sound
Silent faces in the ground
The quiet screams, but I refuse to listen
If there is a Hell
I'm sure this is how it smells
Wish this were a dream, but no, it isn't
Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain
I walk in the rain, in the rain
Why do I feel so alone
For some reason I think of home
Am I right or am I wrong
And is it here that I belong"
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It was raining…
The city was desolate, morbid, blanketed in shadows of eclipsing black. A thick, muggy steam was rolling off the streets, twirling and dancing across the sidewalks. Silence, an eerie silence, was reigning over the usually lively town, his footsteps echoing through the dead quiet.
Eyes, hollow and empty, were trained squarely ahead. The rain fell like needles against his skin, a faint red beginning to bloom on the surface of his face. A duffel bag hung limply from one shoulder- the mass of it beating angrily at the backs of his knees as he walked- and a soccer ball lodged firmly underneath his other arm. The water pelted hard upon the shape, creating an almost melodic singsong of thumps and thuds.
The streets were barren, water rushing quickly through the gutters. Buildings were completely darkened, looming over his drenched form ominously. He felt as if spirits and shades were passing him in the dark, the ever present feeling of being watched. Though, no one was there but him. Alone.
The city was dead.
Dead.
The view before him began to twist and melt, the sidewalks morphing into more familiar territory. Without pause, he continued to walk through the rain, his feet splashing loudly through the puddles as the world around him shifted.
The black melted and diffused, dripping away to reveal another part of the city. Apartment complexes and homely shops replaced the towering buildings.
As he had done so many times in the past, his feet carried him to a quaint shop by sheer routine. His silent figure passed by the large glass window, his mirror self mimicking his movements and taunting him with the same vacant eyes. Lightning flashed, and for a brief second the word Koneko was illuminated upon the window.
As he reached for the door, a sickening bitter scent filled his nose, the smell so familiar… yet so out of place. Tanned, wet fingers pushed gingerly at the slightly ajar door, the hinges creaking as it slowly crept open. He took one step inside…
BANG!!!!!
A second later lightning and thunder pierced the sky, revealing a mere glimpse of Ken's horrified features, rivulets of blood running down his face, tingeing with the water as it streamlined down his dark skin…
"NO!" Ken bolted upright, flinging the sheets from his sweat soaked body. His breathing was strained, gasping for huge intakes of air, body quivering mercilessly.
With shaky hands, Ken reached upward, swiping at his wet face. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, staring with frightened eyes down at the clear liquid that covered his hands.
"Just… just sweat," he whispered to himself, his body continuing to betray him as it quaked upon the bed. Ken clenched and unclenched his hands, turning them over and back again. Looking for the blood… the blood that should have been there.
A small droplet of sweat rolled off his nose, pinging onto the sheet like a raindrop.
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"Fujimiya," Ran glanced at the kitchen microwave clock. Seven fifteen A.M. He agitatedly rubbed at his eyes, brushing his matted hair out of his face. He had been having the best dream about… What had it been about again…?
Hearing nothing, he withdrew the phone from his ear, making sure he hadn't accidentally pushed the off button in his morning haze. "Hello?" he said after there was no answer on the other end of the line. Who would be calling this early? He really didn't have time for prank callers.
"Ran…" a strained voice finally cracked out. So soft and frail, that it was almost lost over the buzzing of Ran's refrigerator ice maker.
"Hidaka?" It couldn't be, Ran thought, not this person. This voice was timid and broken, so different from the Ken he had been subject to before. But that smooth timbre… Ken had a voice that, no matter what state it was in, could easily be recognized.
"I… won't be coming over today, Ran."
Ran frowned at the phone as if the person on the other end could see him. "And why not?"
There was a pause, a peculiar hesitation, and Ran briefly thought that Ken had hung up the phone.
"I'm not feeling so well," he said quietly, his voice dampening on the last word.
Ran's eyebrow rose slowly. For some reason, he had immediately taken Ken for the ultimately healthy type. If not from anything else, Ken's state of body had given him that impression. The thought of him ever being sick enough to decline human interaction seemed very odd.
Was this the same Ken that had plagued his existence for the last two days? The same Ken that was too energetic to sit still for longer than five minutes? The same one… that had made his sister smile?
"Are you…" Ran cleared his throat, starting over. "Are you going to see a doctor?" He hoped he didn't sound too concerned. After all, he didn't really care one way or another how "well" Ken was feeling. It was just that this sudden development put a bump in his plans. Ran was a very precise man, especially when it came to business arrangements. And he and Ken had a deal. There was no way he was adding on an extra day to the agreed week to compensate for Ken's… sick day.
"I'll be fine," Ken replied in clipped tones.
Ran blinked, taken aback that Ken didn't have the usual smart aleck reply. Something along the lines of, "Oh Ran, you do care about me! How sweet!" Ran smirked at that thought. Yes, that would be more like the Ken he had met.
"Will you be coming tomorrow then? You know a week passes very quickly, Ken, and you still haven't convinced me this is all worth it."
As soon as it left his mouth, Ran silently cursed in his head. Why, of all times, was he bringing that up now? Shouldn't he be enthralled at the fact that he got to spend his day Ken-free, and that the interruption could very easily put a halt to the movie production? It was just too early. He wasn't thinking properly.
Yes, that was it.
All the more reason to be angry with Ken. He had woken Ran up, hadn't he?
"I… of course I will, Ran," Ken said, feigning his old cheer and high spirits. He sounded like a mere shell of himself, the words practiced and précised.
"Be sure you're here on ti-" Ran didn't even get to finish his sentence.
He was cut off by the faint click of Ken hanging up.
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Ken looked grimly at the phone as he placed it back in the cradle. Sighing, he turned sharply, intent on going back to bed. His feet scooted noiselessly against the floor, keeping care not to wake the large dog sleeping on his couch.
There was a heaviness in his body, a sorrow he hadn't relived in many years. It was seeping through his veins, running cold to the very core of his being and shooting out as far as his fingertips. Something dark and shadowy was trying to creep into his mind, a feeling he could remember quite well.
Ken shook his head violently, making a detour for the bathroom instead.
He softly closed the door behind him, reaching out to turn the cold water on in the sink. Ken leaned over the tap, gripping the edges of the white porcelain with white fingers. The water swirled around and around, running down the pipes with a sickening slurp-like noise. Momentarily, he became lost in time, the seconds ticking by even though he felt frozen in time. Frozen forever in a moment he couldn't change…
Ken made a choking sound deep within his throat, hands diving under the flow of the water. He leaned in further, splashing a large scoop upon his face. He hung there, watching with morbid fascination as the water droplets fell from his face and back into the gurgle of the plumbing.
Ken rose, staring at himself in the mirror.
"I've got to get out of here," his mirror reflection mimicked back at him.
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Ran stepped out of the café, tugging the collar of his leather trench coat closely around his chin.
He glanced up at the darkening sky, thinking it might rain soon. It was beginning to get cold, he mused to himself. Soon, fall would be over and the harsh hands of winter would take hold. Ran didn't mind winter, really. Most people found it depressing and morose, a time when everything would wither and die.
Ran, however, saw it differently.
With winter usually came snow, and Ran found snow to be one of the purest things on Earth. Sure, not literally. He knew just as well as the next that the snow these days had become slightly tinged with pollutants and chemicals from the things mankind put in the atmosphere. But, the purity ran much deeper than that.
It was a basic, childlike purity. It gave him the feeling of being clean, reborn. The thrill of childhood memories was always replenished with a snowfall- a time when everything in life was simple and understood. It was a time when your biggest concern was catching cooties, and the largest problem you had to solve was strawberry or cherry flavored candy. It was an era in life when he didn't have to worry about money, society, and… Ran looked back over his shoulder as Aya sat gloomily inside the café beside Omi, playing in her soup with her spoon...
And Aya…
Ran sighed, stepping out onto the crowd to take that walk he told Omi he needed after their lunch. His feet began to glide him to an unknown destination.
Ran didn't understand why he had to be the one, really. Well, it was pure logic for the social services to deem that since he was the closest kin, he would take custody of Aya. Only, the social services really didn't know him, Aya, or the relationship between the two. To say that Ran was really "next of kin" was damn near laughable.
Ran had barely known his parents, much less Aya. And he was positive no matter how he acted towards the child, she would continue to resent being dumped on his doorstep. Ran scowled, stuffing his hands deeply into his coat pockets. Well, it wasn't like he wanted her dumped on his doorstep either.
She didn't understand Ran, or his reasons for acting the way he did. Hell, he couldn't even claim to understand her. They had really grown up under different circumstances. Aya, having been born much later and being the little girl of the family, had really had a chance to get to know their parents and live a pleasant, likeable life.
Ran couldn't really say that his life hadn't been likeable, too, up until recently that was. But the fact still remained that by the time he had returned from America, he felt like a stranger in his own household. He had barely known his mother and father when he left, and upon his arrival back a new face had taken his place- Aya.
Ran's steps began to slow as the crowds became thinner, his footsteps taking him to a quieter part of the city.
To be honest he wasn't quite sure if he really resented Aya for it, or if he was simply rolling in self-pity. It wasn't like it was her fault, but still… he felt utterly gypped.
Ran kicked at a pebble in the sidewalk, glancing up as it ricocheted off of the metal leg of a rest bench. He strode over, sitting warily down on the cold wood.
He really didn't know what to do, who to turn to. Omi was helping to take as much of the load as he could, but there was only so much the other man could do. He may be better with children than Ran was, but Aya still didn't seem to be opening up. He knew that inside that quiet, somber child was a waterfall of grief, ready to break loose over the dam. And Ran also knew that when that dam broke, he would have no idea how to patch it up.
Ran looked up, distracted as he heard a funny "ping" noise in the distance. He shrugged. Ran sunk further into the bench, gazing at two little boys playing Frisbee to his right.
And then there was his other, newer problem- the movie deal. With Aya's arrival, he couldn't deny he really needed the money. But it seemed such a high price to pay. Ran's heart and soul went into his books, that particular one especially. He drew upon his own life experiences, and some of the characters were even people he had actually met and knew along the way. It was a part of him, a very important part.
Another "ping" followed by a few shorter "pungs" echoed. He looked about, seeing if anything within eyesight could be identified as the source of the noises.
Ran was also a little afraid, he could admit to himself. If he put the most private, intimate moments of his life up on a screen, how would people react? Sure, the book had gone over nicely. More than nicely. He was currently holding number one in book sales for the past year. But… he supposed it was just different to actually see his life being relived through real-life people. Would he be able to take it if people rejected his… his life?
An even louder "ping" answered his question.
Ran rose from the bench, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. He started walking in the direction he thought the funny noises were coming from. Trailing up a small hill, the wind flared his coat out behind him, fluttering against the backs of his legs. And as he reached the top, a field began to peek into view. No, not just a field, Ran mused as he walked up on the back up of a familiar looking net. A soccer field.
It was relatively empty around the field, only a few strollers walking along the sidelines and one person down on the far end standing straight and tall.
Ran leaned casually against the goal post, watching the back of the man as he bounced a ball across his knees.
His body movements, Ran realized, were almost poetic. They were smooth and gliding, his limbs flowing with a natural grace and beauty. The ball bounced from knee, to head, to ankle, and back to knee, with such ease that it looked as though it were a mere extension of his body.
Ran tilted his head in interest as a slight wind blew across the field, its gentle fingers running over the soccer player's hair and clothing. Ran frowned. At first glance he hadn't noticed the man was clothed in only a white shirt and long, white shorts. He was surely getting cold if he had worked up a sweat.
Then, with amazing speed, the player bumped the ball off of his head and high into the air. As it began to drop, he leaped into the air, his body turning as if he were going to perform a backflip. His leg extended high above his head, kicking the ball backwards towards Ran with a loud "ping."
The player landed hard on his back with a thud even Ran could hear on the other side of the quiet field. He lay there, seemingly dead except for the avid rise and fall of his chest. Ran blinked as the ball finally lost momentum, rolling to a stop a few yards in front of him and the goal.
The man continued to lay there, his limbs spread out over the cool grass. Without thinking about his actions, Ran closed the small distance between him and the ball, leaning over and grasping it. He rose, studying the grass stains with curious eyes.
A movement caught Ran's eye, and he looked over to the player as he rolled over onto his stomach. The soccer player propped his upper body up by his elbows as he prepared to stand, his dark head rising into view. Ran couldn't stop the small intake of air that passed across his lips as he finally gazed upon the man's face.
Mahogany met violet, the familiar set of eyes staring blankly back at Ran.
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"Omi-kun," the little girl said, swirling the ice in her tea with a bright, red straw.
"Yes?" He smiled pleasantly down at the child.
"Do you think my brother hates me?" Aya questioned quietly.
Omi blinked, taken aback. "What makes you ask that, Aya-chan?"
The young girl shrugged her tiny shoulders, staring blankly at the swirls of brown she was creating in between the cubes. "I dunno."
Omi sighed, putting his arm around her waist, drawing her tightly to his form in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "Ran's just going through a tough time, but that doesn't mean he hates you." Omi squeezed her in a half-hug. "He just needs… how do I put this… something to open his eyes."
Aya peeked up at Omi, her lips pursing in a thoughtful look. "What do you think will do that?"
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"Ken," Ran murmured into the wind, gazing at the man on the ground only a short walk away.
Ken blinked back at Ran as if he were sorely out of place, as if the next blink would make him disappear, and everything would make sense again. However, when he didn't disappear, Ran watched as Ken shook his head slightly, rising the rest of the way off of the ground.
With long, purposeful strides, Ken began to breech the distance separating them. His hair tousling in the wind and his bright, white clothing offset against the green field. For some strange reason, Ran's pulse began to quicken with each step, his heart beating a rabid dance against his chest.
When only a few mere feet lay between the two, Ken extended his hand, palm up, towards Ran.
Ran blinked at the limb, still a little disorientated.
"My ball," Ken said firmly, breaking Ran out of his trance. He had forgotten it was still gripped within his hands.
Ran snorted, tucking the ball underneath his arm instead. "This is your idea of sick?" He said acidly.
Ken's arm fell, his eyes not failing to give away his weariness. "Ran, please. I really can't deal with your 'stick up my ass' attitude today. Now may I have my ball back?"
Ran's chin rose defiantly into the air. So, that was how Ken really saw him? Just a pain in the ass? Ran was about to retort with something nasty when a small voice in the back of his head said that he was a pain in the ass.
Ran's chin fell, his eyes growing softer by a tiny margin. "I'll carry it," he said sternly, hoping Ken would be able to hear the unvoiced "you look tired" behind it. If Ken really could read him as well as Ran thought he could, he knew Ken would understand.
Ken shifted his weight to his left foot, frowning slightly. "I'm not ready to leave yet, Ran."
Ah, so he did understand. Ran gave him a slow, deliberate look down from top to bottom, making sure Ken took notice. "Yes you are. You're drenched in sweat, and if you weren't sick before, you will be soon if you stay out here."
Ken's body sagged faintly, much too tired for verbal sparring. "Let me get my bag," Ken murmured, eyes darting about as if somehow ashamed by Ran's presence.
Ran followed Ken over to some small, wooden bleachers, watching as the man began to dig deep within a duffel bag. Gone were the graceful movements Ran had viewed only minutes earlier, replaced by a manner that seemed weak, agitated, and so… un-Ken like.
But then, how well did he know Ken anyhow?
Ken plopped down on a bleacher, removing his cleats and lacing up a pair of tennis shoes in their place. He pulled out a pair of white sports pants with snap buttons down the sides of the legs, pulling them on over his shorts. After stuffing the cleats back inside the bag, he motioned for Ran to toss him the ball, it following inside with the cleats. He zipped all of it up, standing and pulling the duffel bag up on his shoulder.
Ran reached out, taking hold of the strap, "I said I would carry it."
Ken stared at him a moment, an internal battle waging within him on whether or not to argue the point. Finally, he shrugged, handing the bag over to Ran. He pulled it over his leather trench coat, motioning for Ken to follow him as they began their trek out of the park.
"Where are we going?" Ken questioned softly after a few minutes of mind-numbing silence.
"To meet my sister and Omi at the café," Aya said simply.
A loud crack boomed overhead, and suddenly Aya's earlier prediction came true as the Heaven's started spewing forth rain. Ken sighed heavily.
Ran glanced at Ken out of the corner of his eyes, the man's white shirt slowly melting to his lithe form.
"I hate walking in the rain," Ken muttered, his body racking with a slight shiver.
Ran slipped the duffel bag off his shoulder, removing the coat from his lean shoulders. He reached over, placing it on Ken's back and re-shouldering the duffel bag. His heavy slacks and thick sweater were enough to keep him warm and relatively dry.
"Me, too," Ran agreed, hoping to snuff out any questions Ken would have about his small gesture of kindness.
Ken wrapped the coat tighter about his shoulders, inhaling a sweet, pleasant cologne.
The rest of the walk towards the café was made in total silence.
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Did anyone get the part about Ken wearing all white when Ran saw him, and he had been talking about the purity of snow earlier? Or, if you downloaded the song, how Ken says, "I hate walking in the rain"? I like to put a lot of symbolism in my stories, but most of the time no one catches it ^_^
Well, now we know somewhat more of Ran's past, and we're left going "poor Kenken!" even though we don't exactly yet know what happened to him. It was pretty bad, I'm sure you deduced. The lyrics in the interlude really give away what happened to Ken, but you can't really piece it together yet. Not enough info has been given.
Sorry again for grammatical errors/typos. Patiently awaiting my beta's return. Oh and, soak up these quick chapter installments while you can. I have to start working on a fanart commission soon, so they won't be as frequent.
*faints* I got a review from Deena! Her and Seph are my two all-time fav WK authors, and now they've both admitted that they've read some of my jiz-unk. Excuse me while I do the hamster dance.
