Forgiveness

Just a little something I threw together, based on my favourite scene in the entire movie. Setting the scene, if you will. More coming as soon as I find time to type it up. By the way, I don't own Moon Child, or any of its characters. I just borrow them from time to time - I wish.

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"What's it like outside?" asked Kei listlessly. Shou got up lethargically and went to the window. He was careful only to peer through the corner, so as not to let unnecessary light into the darkened room. Kei much preferred the dark.

"Lovely weather," he said gloomily.

Kei sighed, and slumped further down in his chair with his eyes closed. For a moment, Shou was worried he might have collapsed at last, but he said "Really?" It wasn't a question, just something to keep the silence away, but Shou nodded anyway, his ponytail bouncing on his back. He saw, as he looked at Kei, limp and frighteningly vulnerable in his chair, that Son was right. Kei did look terrible. He opened his eyes a slit and spoke up again. "Perfect for Yi-Che's big day." There was no bitterness in the way he said it; after all, Kei was as happy for Yi-Che as the rest of them (except perhaps Son, whose brotherly pride knew no bounds). He really thought it was great that her artistic talent had finally been recognised, and he was prepared to brave anything to be at her ceremony. But it was depressing that now he couldn't be there.

Shou decided to leave him alone for a while, so he didn't say anything, and left Kei to brood in his half of the room. It was an unusual room, divided through the middle half by a wall, and half by silver bars that ran from floor to ceiling and spanned the rest of the boundary. It should have been oppressive, but Kei liked it, and Shou had to admit there was a certain style about it. Kei dragged himself up and began to pace.

"You don't drink blood these days," said Shou quietly. He sat on the floor, backside up against the wall, knees drawn up. He couldn't see Kei, but he heard him move around some more.

"It's none of your business," came the sharp reply. Dammit, Shou couldn't stop thinking about what Son had said. Sure, Kei was skinny, and more than a little on the small side, but now you could see his bones if he so much as moved.

There was no hiding it; Shou was worried about his old friend, and a halfhearted "None of your business," wasn't going to shut him up. He persisted, somewhat tentatively. "But you're so weak." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he'd gone too far.

As he expected, Kei snapped back at him. "Should I drink yours?" Shou could hear the speed with which he'd spun round in outrage, but his expression didn't change. He didn't even blink. Kei took a deep breath to calm himself, and flung himself down on his bed. When he spoke again, it was much softer. Contrite even. He didn't mean to snap at Shou. It wasn't his fault. Not that Shou minded so much. He'd grown up with Kei; he wasn't stupid. Kei may have been an easy-going guy for most of the time, but so much as touch that defence of his, and he'd retaliate. And usually regret it later.

"I live by draining the lives of others." Kei's soft voice snaked into his thoughts. "That's my entire life. You know what that's like?" Of course Shou didn't. He wasn't supposed to. So he said nothing. Kei continued. "Sometimes I can't bear it. So I go without." He laughed bitterly at himself. "A starvation diet." He stole a glance at Shou, but Shou wasn't looking. He was just staring expressionlessly off into space. "Now I'm having fun with you guys," he said, his eyes still on Shou. "But it's not real." And he forced himself upright again to pace and work off his restless lack of energy. "You're all growing up." Now he was next to Shou, half holding, half leaning against two of the silver bars in such a way, it looked as though he would fall over if he let go. "Someday you'll die, Shou," he murmured. Shou's gaze remained fixed on a corner of the ceiling. If indeed he was listening at all, he didn't seem bothered about dying.

"And I'll be left behind. I'll just go on living." In a sudden fit of energy and frustration he rattled the bars. "You think that's fun?" he roared.

Down on the floor, Shou was still motionless, but when he looked, Kei watched a tear spill from his unblinking eye and leave a silvery trail on his cheek as he shook his head so slowly and so slightly that anyone but Kei might not have noticed.

Well, he may have noticed but he wasn't paying much attention. Shou in tears was breathtaking. His blue eyes, very unusual for a Japanese, reminded him of the surface of water. Even now, slightly reddened from crying, or wanting to. Mizuiro, he said to himself. Water-coloured. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, but the rest of his face remained the same. But his lips looked fuller than Kei had ever noticed before.

And Kei's chest fluttered. He felt the hunger return, and his eyes roved unconsciously down to trace the delicate curve of Shou's neck. God, the last time he'd felt like this was in the aftermath of their first encounter with Son, right after Son had had his leg patched up by his sister, and endured Toshi's constant teasing. "Don't be brave," said the latter wickedly, hovering around. "You can cry if you want!" Then he'd launched into a hilarious impression of a child crying to its mother until Son hit him. Son had then got up and limped over to Shou, saying "She'll see you now." Of course, Shou batted him away like a fly, true to his tough guy form. Son just laughed at him. "I can smell the blood from here." When this didn't work, Kei had leaned over and hit him lightly across the arm. That had done the trick. "Ite, baka!" he complained, nursing his arm. "Don't do that!" Kei had unsuccessfully hid a smile. "Have her take a look!" That got him up, and Son had kindly helped him along, balancing on his good leg to seize Shou by the shoulders and haul him roughly up, before shoving him in the right direction.

As soon as Yi-Che lifted his torn sleeve and exposed the bullet-wound, Kei's mouth had dropped open, and his heart began to race. He'd only managed to contain himself when Son's leg was being bandaged because… well, he didn't know. But the plain sight and smell of all that blood! The very fact that it was Shou's made it all the darker and more exciting, and a passionate thrill ran up his spine. In the end, when he could stand it no longer, he'd muttered something about getting fresh air and stalked out.

He came back to himself with a jolt. Shou was still there, the lone tear still rolling down his cheek. Why now? There was no blood. Only Shou in tears on the floor. And even Kei wasn't so much of a bastard to try and take advantage of him in that state.

Kei disappeared from Shou's blurry field of vision, only to reappear moments later, having walked around the back of the wall and through the doorway on the other side. Still he didn't move. He didn't even dare move his eyes to look at Kei, because he knew he'd just dislodge the other tears waiting to fall. It didn't make any difference in the end; Kei stood directly in front of him so he had to look whether he wanted to or not. Shou could only see a vague, blurred shadow that he assumed was Kei, but he could make a pretty good guess at his facial expression when he heard his voice.

"You cry baby." He didn't mean it offensively, there was a compassion, a fondness there that Shou hadn't heard since he was a kid. A tender hand brushed away the tear from the side of his neck. The movement brought back memories of tall, shadowy people, the smell of the pavements on hot nights, and his brother's voice calling "Oi! Shou!" at a thousand different times, in a thousand different ways. He still playfully called his brother Shinji 'Shin-chan', though he was well over twenty. Kei seemed to be having the same kinds of thoughts. When Shou half-fell forward as he gave in to the emotion, Kei steadied his head with one hand, and laid the other on the back of his neck, tangling his fingers in Shou's mane of hair. "Just like when you were a kid," he murmured.

They stayed like that for perhaps a minute, and for a minute they were transported to the past, when Shou wasn't afraid to cry in front of Kei, and Kei could fool himself into forgetting that Shou would ever grow up, ever be anyone other than who he was now. But eventually, Kei gently pushed his head up, and Shou leaned back against the wall. The only sign of anything different were the glistening tear-tracks now meandering down both of his cheeks. Now he kept blinking and swallowing, and his eyes were fixed in front of him as he tried furiously not to slip into tears again.

"Now you go and have a good time," said Kei gently.

"Haa," was Shou's reply, which Kei knew was an affirmative. He used it when he didn't want to betray himself with words. Shou in tears even sounded breathtaking; his rich voice husky and trembling.

Kei's throat tightened, and he quietly left Shou alone with his thoughts on the floor.