Chapter Six – I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry

(Everyone in this chapter is © Katsuhiro Otomo.  Except Chip.  Well…the idea of a Clown called Chip is © Katsuhiro Otomo, but his character is mine.  I didn't think up another name for my own personal satisfaction…anyway, please r+r!)

Slowly the sun set, twisting red in the blazing sky before it died completely.  The heavens were as thick and dull as mud, but Neo-Tokyo lit up with a million stars of its own as spotlights and skyscrapers reflected off the night clouds.

            The Capsules roared down the wide streets as passers-by scattered like rubbish and shrieked over the snarl of engines.  Yamagata hoped they'd all drop dead of heart attacks later. 

            Riding a bike should be making him happy.  Riding a bike was what he did. 

            So why did he feel like smashing the world to pieces for no other reason than that life sucked and everything was a pain in the ass?

            Thanks a bunch, Kai.

            He was gonna enjoy himself.  He'd got his bike back, hadn't he?  He had to enjoy himself.  The other guys charged past him, their tail lights blazing lines over the darkness, laughing, cheering.  They were enjoying themselves.

            They're normal.

            He shivered suddenly, clenched his teeth, and gunned the engine until he'd caught up with them again.  The bike charged forward, specks of grit pinging off the painted sides, he leant as they turned the corner and it followed his lead.  It was fine now.

            Wasn't it?

            Of course it was.  He'd fixed it all up this morning.  Overhaul and everything.  Nothing'd go wrong. 

            That's what you thought last time, and look what happened. 

            The scabs on his arms grinned up at him, reminding him you screwed up.

            But it hadn't been him.  It had been Kai. 

            He wouldn't have done it again – would he?

            Yamagata was no coward.  But he preferred danger when you knew exactly what you were risking.  And when you had stuff you could trust.  Now he couldn't trust his bike. 

            And he couldn't trust Kai either.

            Oh, geez, quit worrying!  He sighed, and skidded to a halt outside the Harukiya, where the others were waiting.

            "You go into a dream out there?" Kaneda asked him.  "We been waiting – oh, at least a minute."

            "Ah, shut up."  Yamagata felt too vicious to try and think of a smart response.

            "What's with you?"

            "Nothin'!"

            "Probably mad about Kai," one of the others said.  "That was pretty scummy.  I ain't surprised you're pissed."

            Yamagata shrugged.  Why'd they keep talking all the time?  Couldn't they just leave him alone?

            Their voices followed him down the steps and rattled off the graffiti-spattered walls.

            "Never thought he had it in him."

            "Ya didn't?  I always thought he was weird.  Just glad I never let him near my bike."

            "Yeah, well, he's gone now," Kaneda said.  "I don't want psychos like that even in the same room as mine."

            Tetsuo snorted.  "If Kai'd done anything to your bike he'd be a stain on the wall by now."

            "And I wish he was," another biker said.  "I mean, he was just bored or summat, wasn't he, Yamagata?"

            "Yeah."  The word tasted bad in Yamagata's mouth.  He tried to ignore it.  "Just bored."

            "No, he wasn't," Tetsuo said.  "He was – jealous, he said –"

            "You don't know shit about it," Yamagata said, turning round as they reached the bottom of the stairs.  "So why don't you just shut your face and give the world a break?"

            He wrenched open the door, and strode into the Harukiya.  It was baking hot, and the temperature hit him like a sandbag, and the headache which had been half-drowned in the ride earlier now bled through his skin again.

            And they were still babbling about Kai.  Didn't anyone have anything better to talk about?

            "I mean, you know, it's okay, like, bashing someone's bike, but doing that –"

            Drinks on the table, glowing rich-coloured in the dingy light.

            "And doing it for no reason except you're pissed off…that's, you know, that's like a little kid."

            Laughter like breaking rocks.  "Well, of course, that explains everything, don't it?  You always said he looked about eight –"

            Yamagata felt as if he'd been locked in a nightmare; the darkness, the rasping, soul-sucking heat, and the voices.  He told himself he didn't care, but it didn't work, because he did – he cared that they were saying this.  They didn't understand, they thought Kai really was that bad, and they were laughing at him.  They thought they were so damn smart and funny.

            I could say stuff and stop it all, make them see the truth…

            I can't I can't

            The only way to get through this was to drink and send the itchy, painful guilt and anger down into the dark depths of a glass.  The liquid burned, cuddly burns, as he swallowed it.  Burn out the fear.  But it didn't actually make him feel any better.  Inside his mind was getting darker and darker, and he wanted to drown himself in it, because everything sucked.  Everything.  Kai hated him and he hated Kai, except he didn't because if he did he wouldn't mind the others saying this and he did, it was driving him crazy, but what could he say, what could he say?  He didn't know what to do.  It was getting too dark to work anything out these days.

            "Yamagata, you should slow down a bit…you gotta take your bike home, ain'tcha?  You'll be…weaving all over the road…"

            "Shut the fuck up, I can do what I like!"

            "What's with you anyway?" Tetsuo asked.  "You're depressed."

            Then there was a lot more darkness.  And then he was riding.  And he wasn't weaving all over the road whatever Kaneda said.  Was he?  No, the world was weaving all over him…hey, that was damn funny actually.

            And then there was anger.  So much anger.  Thick black stuff in the air flooding his skull and making him feel sick with it. 

            But he was on his own now, so it didn't matter.  No one to piss him off.  And not Kai, and that was the best of all. 

            The anger didn't need people.  It survived on its own, and it hated the air and the lights and the neon signs of the bars flickering on and off.  Hated the skyscrapers, so tall, making him feel so little.  Hated everything except the roar of the engine beneath him.

            And he was chasing someone…a Clown, that was it.  A Clown who'd charged past him a little way from the Harukiya.  Some damn Clown on his fucking turf!  And the pipe was sticky with sweat in his hand, and he raised it – to try and hit – but he was too slow – no, not too slow, the other guy was too fast, and dodged –

            Cars screeching and roaring around them, burning holes in his eyes and in the darkness, melting it into sickly glowing.

            He accelerated, him and his bike charged down the road, yeah, like one person.  Or one bike?  Couldn't tell and why was he wondering because he was about to hit –

            His bike smashed into the Clown's head on – and the Clown flew off his – and up up up into the air, and then down, and landed heavily against the steps of a house.  Yamagata screeched to a halt and the anger dragged him forward and with every punch he spat out some of the anger but it just kept growing, he hit again and again…

            Hate you all of you hate hate hate

            And then what?

            He'd left the Clown.  He was standing on the street, he'd been wheeling his bike because he couldn't figure on driving it again and the cars were moving too fast anyway.  No people.  He'd been trying to aim for somewhere – yeah – he'd been trying to find Kai's place, but then he'd remembered they hated each other and now what could he do? 

            Couldn't think…like walking through water, to try and think.  Where to go now?  Why was it so hard suddenly – could drink normally – could think normally –

            You're a freak, you're getting weaker, boy

            He didn't know what to do and the shadows were too thick.

            And he felt ill too, a slow crawling feeling up from his stomach that he was going to die.

            You're getting weaker

            His hands gripping the bike were bloodstained.

            And Neo-Tokyo wrapped itself round him like a ghost, a ghost filled with noise and light and screaming and it wouldn't let him out into the darkness. 

            Getting weaker…

            Help me –

***

Kai heard the clatter outside the window, but didn't bother to get up and look at it.  For the last two hours he'd been lying flat on his bed staring at the ceiling, and he wanted to see if he could make it three hours.  So far he'd spotted five damp patches, sixteen scars of peeled paint, and seven odd marks that could be anything. 

            Okay, it wasn't as good as having friends and biking and stuff like that, but it came damn close.

            Downstairs, someone rattled the door.  Kai scowled.  Probably someone who'd forgotten their key.  Now, was that a damp patch or –

            "…Kai!"

            Huh?

            No, he was hallucinating.  He was so desperate for friends that he was hallucinating that the person trying to get in was actually calling him.

            The house around him was silent, though.  Most people were out at this time, blasting themselves with clubbing or drink or drugs or sex, sometimes all at the same time.  He didn't care that he was stuck at home in a dark room because he had no friends.

            You should've said something to Yamagata this afternoon.

            Like hell I should.  I don't need another rejection, thanks.

            "Kai!"

            Oh, fine.  He'd go down, see who it was, tell them to piss off because they'd obviously got the wrong Kai.  They wanted some Kai whom people actually still liked. 

            He'd been thinking thoughts like this all afternoon.  At first they'd hurt, but now they were kind of fun in a numb, miserable way.

            He got up, yelping as the blood rushed away from his head, and stumbled out of his room and down the stairs.  This place sucked in the evenings. The rooms were soaked in darkness, the air hurt it was so quiet, everywhere stank of mildew, and headlights and streetlamps burnt orange into the bare, chipped-paint walls, emphasising the lack of people to look at them.

            Kai hoped the person outside wasn't a tramp/psycho/killer.  But he couldn't leave them knocking here all night.

            Admit it – you just hope it's someone who actually wants to see you.

            He squinted at the glass panel in the door – yeah, there was someone, crouched on the step –

            Yamagata?

            He pulled the door open, and street sounds swirled into the hall.

            "Yamagata?" he said.  "What the hell happened to you?"  Then he smelt the alcohol, which tore through his nose like fire.  "Oh, wait – I can guess.  You're pissed outta your skull, aren't you?"

            "I think I'm gonna be sick," Yamagata groaned.

            "How much did you drink?"

            "Dunno…a lot…"

            "Where're the others?"

            "Dunno…I rode here…I chased a Clown…"

            "You rode like this?"  Kai felt queasy himself.  How Yamagata had avoided becoming roadkill he couldn't guess.  "Well, you can't ride anywhere else tonight.  Come in and you can go home tomorrow."

            "Bike…"

            "I'll take it round the back, put it in the parking lot."

            "You won't do nothing to it?"

            Kai felt a sting of rage lash around in his chest.  "No, I won't do nothing to it.  You wait on the step."

            When he came back, Yamagata had sunk down onto the steps, and was resting his head on his knees.  Kai caught himself wanting to stroke him.  Sit next to him and just…do stuff.

            He rejected the thought as impractical both on physical and mental grounds.  Yamagata was not only a nice shade of green, he also thought Kai was a psychotic low-down bastard would-be murderer. 

            Okay.  Tonight he'd stop the guy going off and doing something really stupid; and tomorrow he'd let him walk away and be cool with it.  Totally cool with it.  And then he'd go back to staring at the ceiling.

            Yamagata had never been this out of it before, though.  The guys liked a drink, sure, but they weren't stupid enough to ride back paralytic.  A little tipsy and thinking it was really funny to goof around, fine.  But not like this.  And what the hell were they thinking leaving Yamagata to ride off on his own? 

            They stumbled up the dark stairs together, Yamagata groaning gently on Kai's shoulder and then just making it to the bathroom in time.  After a rather unpleasant interlude, Kai made him drink about six pints of water or something – he'd heard that was good to prevent hangovers, and by the looks of it Yamagata would be in agony tomorrow, ready to kick the nearest cat, or Kai in this case.  And there was plenty of stuff for him to be mad about… 

            Finally they got back to Kai's room, where Yamagata promptly curled up on the floor and fell asleep.  Kai lay down on his own bed, but he ignored the ceiling this time.

            Yamagata had looked so pathetic.  People always did when they felt ill.  You couldn't be mad with someone who looked that miserable. 

            If he hadn't come here tonight…

            He could've been killed out there, really killed. 

            What had made him get so out of it, anyway? 

            Could be you, perhaps –

            No.  Yamagata didn't care about him, did he?  Probably he'd just got carried away, or someone had challenged him to a drinking competition.  But then he'd got on his bike and ridden off and could've been killed –

            Life's dangerous enough without you sneaking around sabotaging things.

            And suddenly the guilt broke over him like a shower of ice, and he swallowed, and whispered I'm sorry, I'm sorry even though he knew Yamagata, whose snores were dark and heavy below his own breathing, couldn't hear him.

            Tomorrow he'd tell him he was sorry.  It was okay to tell him now.  It didn't even matter if he wasn't forgiven, he just had to say it.  At least then, when he was alone again, Yamagata would be out there knowing the truth. 

***

Blink.

            And blink again.

            And suddenly the light shot through Yamagata's eyelids and started burning a line across the back of his skull, and he yelped and shut his eyes again.

            His head felt like someone was bouncing a tennis ball from side to side inside it. 

            What had happened last night?

            Slowly, like a dripping tap, memories started to thump back into his brain.       Drip – driving away from Kai – drip – and going to the Harukiya – drip – and no one shutting up – drip – and drinking – drip – and laughter – drip – and drinking – drip – and the Clown – and then – then –

            Where the hell was he?

            Slowly, slowly, he opened both eyes, hoping the sun wouldn't notice. 

            It did, and he slammed them shut again, but not before making out an unfamiliar ceiling.

            Well, he wasn't lying sprawled in a gutter somewhere.  That had to be good.

            And although he felt not totally great, the hangover wasn't half as bad as should have been.  He must have puked the drink out of his system last night.  He vaguely remembered that…

            But where was he?

            "Yamagata?  You awake?"

            The voice came through a faint mist of pain that curled round his ears.

            "Uh-huh…"

            "How're you feeling?"  The voice sounded slightly apprehensive.  And familiar.  Definitely familiar.

            "Not too great, but…"

            Slowly, slowly, his aching brain fumbled through a list of voices, trying to make a match.

            "Kai?"

            "Yeah."

            Yamagata groaned again.  It was horror, not pain, but Kai said, "I'll go find you some paracetamol or something.  And see if there's any breakfast around."

            "Uh-huh…"

            Footsteps past his head, and then the door opened and closed, and he was alone.

            What the hell was Kai doing here? 

            He waited until the headache subsided for a moment, then flicked his eyes open and stared round the room.  Not his.  Kai's room.  Why was he in Kai's room?  How the hell had he got there? 

            He didn't want to be there.  He didn't like Kai.

            Did he?

            The scar grinned on his skin.

Several painkillers and splashes of cold water later, he was feeling a bit more human, but no less puzzled.  But he didn't really want to ask Kai what had happened.  He could've done anything last night, and he didn't want Kai to've seen.  He could've said anything.  Oh, shit…what if he'd said something stupid about…relationships, or sabotage, or…shit like that? 

            Alcohol sucked.  It really did.

            He heard footsteps, and looked round as Kai came into the room, chewing a piece of toast. 

            "Want any breakfast?" he asked.  "There's still a bit left, but you gotta be quick."

            "Nah, I'll – I'll wait."

            Kai nodded, popped the last bit of toast into his mouth, and, licking the butter off his fingers, said, "Your bike's round the back of the building, where I left it – I dunno if you remember much of last night."

            "Uh…not much."

            "Well, you showed up on the doorstep totally pissed, came inside, threw up, drank a lot of water and went to sleep on my floor.  That's about it, really."

            "Yeah, but why was I there?"

            "Not sure…the others weren't with you, dumb bastards.  You said you'd chased a Clown."

            Yamagata glanced at his fists, and saw a smear of old, brown blood across one knuckle.  "Yeah, I remember that.  He – he was on our turf…I think…"

            "You know how you got so pissed?  Was it a bet or something?"

            "No..."  Yamagata frowned, and winced because that hurt his still-tender head.  "It was – I was –"

            Voices…voices talking about Kai…

            "I dunno.  I guess I just didn't keep count or nothing.  You know, one, four, seven, eighteen…"  He grinned, but inside he was feeling shrivelled and sour, and that was guilt.  He should've said something.  Should've stopped it all.  Not just hidden behind glass after glass of devil's piss.

            Coward.  Stupid freak coward.

            "What're you gonna do today?" he asked.

            "Stay here, I guess.  Stare at the ceiling.  I'm looking for marks that look like countries, but I've only got Africa so far.  Least, I think it's Africa."

            Yamagata stared down at the floor.  He didn't want to look at Kai.  Kai who'd lost his friends because someone hadn't been brave enough to speak up and stuff. 

            And still wasn't.

            The knowledge was like a gasp inside him.  He still wasn't gonna speak up, he knew he wasn't.  And the scar was sour and sickly on his skin because he hated admitting he was too scared to do summat.

            But why did he need to?  There was nothing to tell now.

            Was there?

            "You?" Kai was asking him.

            "Huh?  Oh…uh, go into school…or go, um, see people, or, um, something…"

            "You off now?"

            "I s'pose…yeah." 

            "Then, um, I'd better say…"  Kai swallowed, folded his arms and stared down at the ground.             

            "I'm sorry I sabotaged your bike," he whispered.  "They're right, it was a shit thing to do.  And I coulda killed you.  But I didn't mean to.  You do know that, right?  It was just I, I was mad…and I just lost it for a moment.  And you don't have to say nothing or anything, you just have to – know, I guess.  So, um, I'll see you, okay?"

            He moved out of the way of the door, and stood, staring at his shoes.

            In Yamagata's brain, there was a brief struggle.

            Say it!

            I don't wanna say it…can't we just go?

            Say it…

            Why?

            Because you like him and he needs to know you're sorry.  Go on, ya big moron. 

            "I'm sorry too," he muttered.  "Shouldn't have kept it quiet like that.  Don't wanna tell now, but…I'm sorry too."

            There was a long silence.  Outside, cars hummed past the window like giant bees, and below them someone was complaining about not having the last piece of toast.

            "Thanks," Kai said at last.

            Yamagata met his eyes.

            He said, "We could –"

            "Maybe –" Kai cut in at the same time.

            The silence tightened between them like a rubber band.

            And then suddenly they were hugging each other, Kai's head resting against his chest, Kai's arms round his waist, and kissing.  Kai tasted of butter and crumbs, and the kissing was like a dam bursting or something, Yamagata hadn't realised how much he'd missed it and all he could do was take as much as he could in case it got taken away again.

            "Yeah, that's what I meant," he said.

            Kai smiled.

            "Me too," he said.                             

            They were safe now, Yamagata thought.  They hadn't even said anything much, but he knew it.  They were safe now.          

***

Chip groaned as the sun slid over his bruised, battered body.  He tried to sit up, and winced as bubbles of pain burst all over him.

            Fuck those Capsules.  Fuck all of them and especially that tall bastard who'd got him last night.

            He got unsteadily to his feet, and looked round.  The street was empty.  His bike lay a few feet away from him, next to a fallen dustbin, rubbish tangled round the handlebars.  His helmet was at his feet, the Clown marks painted on it scratched and dented. 

            Was it his fault he worked at the Harukiya?  Which just happened to be proper Capsule turf? 

            All the other Clowns said it was dumb to work there.  Said it was dumb to work anywhere.  But it was all right for them, weren't it?  They were all tough, they weren't a scrawny little runt like him, a scrawny little runt who needed the money because he wasn't good enough at theft and needed a seriously good bike to survive on the streets.  And they knew that was why he worked and that's why they'd laugh themselves sick when they found out he'd got jumped, again.

            And that was why he was gonna teach that Capsule jerk a lesson first chance he got.

            You'd think, wouldn't you, that such a runt wouldn't be able to do that?  Wouldn't get that chance?

            Chip smirked, stretching the bruises and cuts on his face.

            Hah, yeah, right.  He'd find the chance sooner or later.  He was smart, not like those other dumb bastards.  He was damn smart.  And he noticed things. 

            He righted his bike, and started dusting the rubbish off, the sliminess of tea bags and potato peelings oozing through his gloves.   

            And working in the Harukiya could only help.  He could find something out about that guy, stuff like he already knew about the others.  Like he knew Kaneda loved his bike like it was his kid or something and would probably have three simultaneous heart attacks if, say, it was burnt up before his baby eyes…like any idiot could see that weird Tetsuo kid was bitter as hell, jealous because everyone else was older and always told him to shut up, and sooner or later, with the right words, he'd crack and take an AK-47 to the next drinks party…

            He'd find something on the tall guy sooner or later. 

            And then – Chip winced as a spray of bruises above his ribs started to burn – then he'd use it.  Payback for this pain, in spades.  Hell, yeah.  That'd feel good, real good.

            The air was still fresh at the moment, the sun hadn't got round to making the world stink.  But not for long though.  Soon the city would be burning.

***

Tetsuo groaned.  Could he drink anything without a hangover coming on the next morning?  He bet Kaneda could.  He bet Yamagata could.  But no, not him, not stupid baby Tetsuo who everyone always stamped on…

            It's only words, he thought through the tightening band of pain slowly cutting through his skull.  It's – only – ow – words –

            It didn't matter that it was only words.  The point was this was no better than in the children's home.  People still thought he was this dumb little kid who could be jumped on all the time.

            Another flood of pain, and he shut his aching eyes, and wrapped the sheet around him. 

            The anger was probably just cos of the hangover.  He didn't really hate Kaneda and Yamagata and the others. 

            He just wanted to…teach them a lesson, that was all.  Just show 'em he was as cool as them. 

            Who was he kidding?  He couldn't even beat either of them in a fight, let alone do anything else.

            But one day he would.