Title: Happily Screwed
Author: annonymouse
Summary: There once was a boy called Tsukiyono Omi, now there's Takatori Mamoru.
Author's Notes: You might find it a bit weird. This is Mamoru fighting with himself as Omi. More of Mamoru's POV… I suppose you could say he's become somewhat Schizophrenic… =) Just read… It'll be better explained in the story.

*

There's a picture deep inside my desk. Buried under piles of important looking papers. Tucked in the furthest corner of the mahogany drawer. It's crumpled and faded.

And it's my most precious treasure in the world.

I once kept it on my desk. My pride and joy. My family.

Then they died one by one. Figuratively. But they died nonetheless.

They left me alive.

They left me to stand.

There are four guys in the picture. Four people for the four points of the compass. For they are my guide in life. The way they were. Not the people they are now.

One was a playboy. I still haven't figured it out whether he was a natural blonde or not. He died first. I kept a watch on him of course. After I saw him in a company one sunny morning. Looking very weird… at least for me. Because he wore a suit. I think from the four in the picture, he is the happiest.

Then the red head died. My… connections told me that he was found bleeding on the street. The next time he was sighted, his hair was died a darker shade, like that of dried blood. And he went by another name. Not that he hadn't done the different name thing in the past… I heard he has his own dojo now. And now and again, dead politicians are found with one precise slash that made them bleed to death.

Then the football player died. He managed to convince a football coach to let him plan strategies behind the scene. The football coach soon became famous for his team's constant wins and the brunette would smile all alone. He had become a nobody. A person who had no identity. The coach had tried to push him to the spotlight once… But the mysterious boy just smiled once more and said something about liking to work in shadows.

Then… the smiling kid died. The one who had a radiant smile and no shadows in his eyes. He tasted the bitter blows of life and died. Being reborn into a different person. Someone he had been before he was kidnapped.

The kid took his family name and found that the coldness that was his family trait came easily.

At first Tsukiyono Omi struggled to get free from the prison Takatori Mamoru had forced him into. But then Omi died. He just faded away.

And when Mamoru triumphed, Mamoru hid the reminder of his previous life. Tsukiyono Omi had died and so did the memories.

And that is why, there is a picture in my desk. Crumpled and faded. Hidden away from prying eyes and suppressed memories. Tucked deep in the darkness. Reminders of a yesterday I must forget to be able to move on.

That is why I am right now signing the papers to give the go ahead for the destruction of a little flower shop. A shop placed in a corner. Where many petals bloomed and wilted. Where there had once been four men working together. Trying to make a better world.

My hands are shaking. I haven't been able to stop their shaking since earlier this evening when Rex gave the papers and left me to brood. Or as Yohji once liked to say… sulk.

I am not sulking. I am just pouting a little.

Tsukiyono Omi is stubborn today. He was apparently in a coma and not yet buried. I must see to his burial as soon as possible.

But Tsukiyono Omi is forcing me to push the papers away. He's telling me to rummage around. Past the cobwebs that should be around the picture had I not been a clean and tidy person.

He's telling me to look at the picture.

I tried to refuse.

I tried.

But I saw a flash of white teeth.

And my eyes are now helplessly drawn to four, well… three laughing guys and one smiling one. They're fixated to the bright sunlight and colours.

I'm suddenly feeling thirsty.

Or hungry.

But it is not food or drink I crave. That is not the nourishment I need. I need Lilies and Roses. I need Hyacinths and Violets.

I want…

I want yesterday.

Damn you Omi.

You're right. I want trailers. I want my darts. I want my bow. I want my computer. I want missions. I want the adrenaline rush.

I want…

I want laughter. I want jokes. I want endless teasing. I want Yohji. And Aya. And Ken… I want to be Omi. For one more day. Just one day…

Do you remember though… Do you remember the hate you used to feel, Tsukiyono Omi? Don't you remember nights of scrubbing your hands raw. As if you're trying to wash away the blood, even though you hardly ever got splashed by the sticky substance? Do you remember the self doubt you felt? The hate? The pain?

Or have you forgotten the crying?

Day in day out, smiling, joking, laughing… crying. Wishing you were like others, so carefree and genuinely happy?

What's that you say? It's better than the condition you are in now?

Are you delirious?

You are now a Takatori. You're supposed to leave behind your emotions once you hit puberty. You are supposed to be like those Vulcan in that American TV show you like so much… What was it called again? Star Track? Or something like that.

Aren't you glad I help you defeat your emotions? Aren't you glad you can smile through anything now? Aren't you happy that you never cry anymore?

I feel Omi subdue as I manipulate him. Tsukiyono Omi is so naïve. I feel my strength return slowly. My hands have stopped shaking.

I can finally sign the papers.

Thank you for wasting my time. Now be a good boy and sleep Tsukiyono Omi. You're one screwed little boy.

Yes, yes. I know I'm screwed as well. Must you always argue? Sleep. Or die. I'd like it better if you died.

I lean back on my chair. My shoulders seem so tense, maybe I'll treat myself to an early night today.

I observe the picture one last time.

There's still a dull ache in my chest. Aren't you asleep yet Omi?

I sigh and push the picture inside the drawer.

At least, back then I was happy. I might have been screwed and still am… but back then I was happy.

A sleepy voice invades my thought. He's finally gone… for now.

I get up from my chair and I am astonished… Where did the water on my desk come from? Is my ceiling leaking?

I touch my cheeks softly.

I'm… crying?

~Owari~

That was… weird… Hope you liked it anyway…