Who Needs the Memories 2/?
By Nix Winter
Warnings: Bordering on original with this chapter...
Disclaimers: As original as it gets, I still don't own Yuki, Shuichi, or Tokyo
Chapter Two
Heiji lived with the beautiful things. He especially liked the drums and the flutes. The western collection had held his attention for years, but he was over it now. This was his museum, and he loved it.
Okay. It wasn't really his museum, per say. It had been built over the top of his family's home though. Not that anyone had actually known that. He didn't really like thinking about the house that had been here once, his father, or the fire that had taken all of that into the past quickly that it could have done.
He had been twenty-two and kanji was still new, still just the province of priests. Heiji loved those beautiful, mysterious markings still. The glass encasements could not prevent him from tracing them with his finger times, sometimes, sometimes when he was nostalgic. Kiichi had draw symbols with such beauty. That had been the start of the fall, or of the salvation, depending. Kiichi had had beautiful golden eyes and pale hair that made the people of their clan walk widely around him. Those markings, the demon wild eyes, those had only drawn Heiji closer.
He shoved his hands into his sleeves and watched the people walk by, sitting on the back of a great Chinese lion. Thousands of years, that's how long he'd been looking for Kiichi. Heiji wasn't beautiful the way Kiichi had been. He'd just been a swordsman, a third son with a scar across his cheek and dark eyes, dark hair. Just a normal Japanese man, that's all he'd been.
Laying on the great lion that guarded the entrance, he kept watch of who came and went, and he watched for clues. Sometimes the clues he was looking for made more sense than they did other times. Letters, words, strokes of imagines engraved on paper, something in there, something in golden eyes that he couldn't find, but that was okay. He had all year.
But something drew his attention to the front doors, beyond to the street. Red car going too fast, he thought. He laid both hands against the glass, wanting to watch closer, but afraid to leave the building he was tied too. He really didn't think it was a good idea for the car to go so fast. James had told him about cars, explained about cigarettes, and about the modern world. James had left the building and never come back though. That could have been the collection from America was taken back where it came from. He'd hardly believed the things James had said anyway. Other lands. He pressed his face to the glass. Cars crash like big swords, like armor buckling under a really good blow. And then, he was out of the building, running, sandals slapping against the stone ground.
"Kiichi!" he screamed, passing right through the car into the front seat. It couldn't be Kiichi. And yet the hair was pale, and the eyes golden. He remembered blood, so much blood. His father had been so angry. "Kiichi! What are you doing with this metal box?"
When the eyes opened, they were just the same as Kiichi's. It made the world around him seem far away, unreal, and made him long to stay where he was, in the museum, far from scars of the past.
"Shuichi? Where is Shuichi?"
The voice wasn't Kiichi's and the spell of the past weakened. "There's only you here, and the people working on opening this box. Let's walk for a while."
He took Yuki's hand and they stepped free of the ruined car. "I wouldn't watch if I were you. I think your armor didn't work very well."
"Armor? Who are you?" Eiri patted his jacket down for his cigarettes. "I can't believe I walked away from that!"
"I'm Heiji!" he said, bowing politely. "Being near death does make it easier to walk through things."
Yuki dropped his cigarettes, spun. His body was being lifted from the car by medical people. This was not how it was supposed to be. "Shuichi."
"Who is Shuichi?" Heiji asked softly.
"He's my lover," Yuki said softly, admitting what he'd been afraid to before. "I've been stupid."
"Many of the people I meet feel that way," Heiji said sadly, watching the medical people work over the man who looked so like his Kiichi.
Yuki's eyes narrowed and took a good look at the man who stood next to him. "How long have you been dead?"
"Long enough to see two of you. We should go find your Shuichi and see if he can talk you back into your body," Heiji said, all his demon fighting instincts being brought out by the medical people working Yuki's body. Spells, he was just sure of it. "If you want back in. It looks painful to me."
"I have to find Shuichi," Yuki said, mission oriented now. He needed to apologize.
By Nix Winter
Warnings: Bordering on original with this chapter...
Disclaimers: As original as it gets, I still don't own Yuki, Shuichi, or Tokyo
Chapter Two
Heiji lived with the beautiful things. He especially liked the drums and the flutes. The western collection had held his attention for years, but he was over it now. This was his museum, and he loved it.
Okay. It wasn't really his museum, per say. It had been built over the top of his family's home though. Not that anyone had actually known that. He didn't really like thinking about the house that had been here once, his father, or the fire that had taken all of that into the past quickly that it could have done.
He had been twenty-two and kanji was still new, still just the province of priests. Heiji loved those beautiful, mysterious markings still. The glass encasements could not prevent him from tracing them with his finger times, sometimes, sometimes when he was nostalgic. Kiichi had draw symbols with such beauty. That had been the start of the fall, or of the salvation, depending. Kiichi had had beautiful golden eyes and pale hair that made the people of their clan walk widely around him. Those markings, the demon wild eyes, those had only drawn Heiji closer.
He shoved his hands into his sleeves and watched the people walk by, sitting on the back of a great Chinese lion. Thousands of years, that's how long he'd been looking for Kiichi. Heiji wasn't beautiful the way Kiichi had been. He'd just been a swordsman, a third son with a scar across his cheek and dark eyes, dark hair. Just a normal Japanese man, that's all he'd been.
Laying on the great lion that guarded the entrance, he kept watch of who came and went, and he watched for clues. Sometimes the clues he was looking for made more sense than they did other times. Letters, words, strokes of imagines engraved on paper, something in there, something in golden eyes that he couldn't find, but that was okay. He had all year.
But something drew his attention to the front doors, beyond to the street. Red car going too fast, he thought. He laid both hands against the glass, wanting to watch closer, but afraid to leave the building he was tied too. He really didn't think it was a good idea for the car to go so fast. James had told him about cars, explained about cigarettes, and about the modern world. James had left the building and never come back though. That could have been the collection from America was taken back where it came from. He'd hardly believed the things James had said anyway. Other lands. He pressed his face to the glass. Cars crash like big swords, like armor buckling under a really good blow. And then, he was out of the building, running, sandals slapping against the stone ground.
"Kiichi!" he screamed, passing right through the car into the front seat. It couldn't be Kiichi. And yet the hair was pale, and the eyes golden. He remembered blood, so much blood. His father had been so angry. "Kiichi! What are you doing with this metal box?"
When the eyes opened, they were just the same as Kiichi's. It made the world around him seem far away, unreal, and made him long to stay where he was, in the museum, far from scars of the past.
"Shuichi? Where is Shuichi?"
The voice wasn't Kiichi's and the spell of the past weakened. "There's only you here, and the people working on opening this box. Let's walk for a while."
He took Yuki's hand and they stepped free of the ruined car. "I wouldn't watch if I were you. I think your armor didn't work very well."
"Armor? Who are you?" Eiri patted his jacket down for his cigarettes. "I can't believe I walked away from that!"
"I'm Heiji!" he said, bowing politely. "Being near death does make it easier to walk through things."
Yuki dropped his cigarettes, spun. His body was being lifted from the car by medical people. This was not how it was supposed to be. "Shuichi."
"Who is Shuichi?" Heiji asked softly.
"He's my lover," Yuki said softly, admitting what he'd been afraid to before. "I've been stupid."
"Many of the people I meet feel that way," Heiji said sadly, watching the medical people work over the man who looked so like his Kiichi.
Yuki's eyes narrowed and took a good look at the man who stood next to him. "How long have you been dead?"
"Long enough to see two of you. We should go find your Shuichi and see if he can talk you back into your body," Heiji said, all his demon fighting instincts being brought out by the medical people working Yuki's body. Spells, he was just sure of it. "If you want back in. It looks painful to me."
"I have to find Shuichi," Yuki said, mission oriented now. He needed to apologize.