Sorry it's been so long. Exams (a whole f(&%ing month of exams) and such took up time and sapped inspiration. I hope this is still good. Please do review, but read it first.
The first semester went well. None of Taka's classes seemed overly difficult and he could see Miaka everyday. Tomo was around but he wasn't bothering anybody. And his roommate, well, Shun wasn't turning out too bad as a roommate. He just was almost never in the room. Taka had actually spent an entire day at the dorm when one of his classes was canceled and he'd only seen Shun leaving in the morning and coming back after ten. Taka did feel a little guilty about keeping the freshman out; he couldn't convince himself that Suboshi would have enough of a social life to keep him outside for ten hours straight. Even Shun, as different as the shy kid was from the killer, had the kind of creepy aura that left him somewhat isolated in any crowd. At first, Taka had thought it was just that he couldn't help but think of Shun as Suboshi, but other people who had nothing to do with Suzaku had commented on it. Shun was just weird to everyone. But no one had been beaten to death with yo-yos and Miaka hadn't been harassed, so Taka had never felt the need to do anything. Being left alone by Suboshi wasn't so bad.
Coming back into his dorm just before lunch, Taka could tell something had changed. Something was clearly wrong. The room was always messy; it was inhabited by two not-quite-adult males and could be little else. A frenzied clutter had replaced the typical lazy sloppiness. As Taka stood inside the room, shocked with the subtle differences, he heard the sound. A soft, muffled crying. Kneeling on the floor Taka found Suboshi curled up under the bed, whimpering.
"Shun," he whispered, "what's the matter?"
"Nothing matters. Nothing. You're not even here. I thought I saw him and I think I'm seeing you. But it's all nothing. Nothing at all." Shun's voice came out shaky and tired. The tone was dull, but his voice caught on the word "him."
"Get out here, Shun." The sound of tears stopped. Slowly, Suboshi inched out from under the bed. Taka was surprised at the figure. His eyes were red and watery and the only act he seemed capable of was the repeated scratching at his left arm, which had started bleeding. Taka pulled Suboshi's arm, separating it from the scratching fingers. The deepest scratches formed a pattern of letters. The word "please." Seeing the tears that had silently started falling again, Taka felt real pity for Suboshi.
"Is it you?" Taka nodded. "It doesn't matter, though. I still couldn't have seen him. He can't be here."
"Why can't he be here?" There wasn't any need to ask who "he" was. Suboshi's voice had a special inflection just for Amiboshi. Though his reaction was not at all what Taka would have expected from seeing his elder brother, it was still the only possible "he."
"We can't both be here."
"Why not? Don't you want to see him?" Suboshi looked at him as though he had asked if Suboshi wanted to breath.
"You remember me from back then, right? What I did to you? Imagine being related to that. Could you stand to live with that?" Suboshi jerked his arm back and resumed idly scratching the wounds. "I'm not good for him. I hurt him. He can't be here."
"That doesn't necessarily mean you've lost it." Taka murmured half to himself. He wondered just where Tomo had been this morning. If anyone could and would, it was Tomo.
