The Taste Of Ink
MysticShadowWanderer
Disclaimer: Looking back at you I can see that I never really got it right.
Chapter Seven: Each day gets more and more like the last day
Ceiling again. Isn't it just fucking glorious? At least I've fixed the crack and restored my ceiling to it's white, shining beauty, if such a thing as a ceiling actually can be beautiful. It can't, but I can lie. Gods can I lie.
It gets very tiring to feel and think the same things day after day, with no hope for a change in routine. Again: I need a life. I am still no farther in the Kamiya case; it seems to be a dead end. I don't really know what I'm going to do about it, probably just lose. Somehow, I'm beginning to feel like I don't care anymore.
'Fuck this,' I finally decide, jumping up out of bed. Back to the trusty sleeping pills.
As I toss two of them down my throat, I wonder if I'm becoming addicted. This is only the second time I've taken them in a long time, so I guess I'm not. It doesn't really matter anyhow. I have to get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a very stressful day at work.
Sometimes, I wish I could just have normal dreams like a normal person. (Again, what is normal? But that's beside the point.) Or even completely weird, tripped out, LSD-reminiscent visions that completely boggle the mind. Just as long as I could have some reprieve from reality. Falling organs is unrealistic, yes, but not enough so to feel like I've stepped out of my daily life. At least when I take the sleeping pills, I don't have to worry about dreaming at all.
Kaoru greets me with a smile, a bowl of cereal, and a glass of orange juice in the morning. For a moment, I don't know what to say, because it seems overly cruel to tell her that I don't usually eat breakfast, so I don't say anything. I just sit down and start eating. It can't hurt, can it?
Though it takes effort not to wrinkle my nose in distaste as I spoon the sugar coated, high-in-carbohydrates-and-fats-and-who-knows-what-else cereal into my mouth and chew it, much less swallow it whilst knowing what it's going to do to my body, I manage the task somehow. Just so that I don't upset the happy, smiling girl that's sitting across from me and eating her own breakfast. Dammit, I really am going soft, aren't I? Then again, it's no big deal to be kind every once in a while. I don't have to be a sarcastic, callous, son of a bitch all the time, do I?
"What are you going to do while I'm at work?" I ask.
She sighs before answering. "I don't know. Usually I'd be at my office by now, but they called me two days ago to tell me that 'my services are no longer required.' There's no use for someone who's been accused of thirty-seven counts of murder at an elitist company like that. I'm not planning on going anywhere far from here any time soon, just to be safe, so I'll probably make a quick run to the bookstore and better my intellect for the day."
Briefly, I consider allowing her to come to work with me, but think better of it. There's going to be enough for me to do without her there, so her idea is best. Besides, I don't need her pestering me all day. At a second thought, that's unfair of me, because she really isn't a nuisance. Picturing her at my job brings an image to mind that's nothing more than her sitting quietly in a chair, reading a book, drawing, or doing whatever she can to be helpful. Still, it would be a headache to have her there, simply because I would feel as if I had to be in charge of her. And that bitch of a receptionist would drive me insane about Kaoru by the end of the day.
Is this what asphyxiation feels like? What it feels like to drown?
I know I'm not literally suffocating and my lungs are devoid of the water that would kill me, but this feeling surely has to be the same. Maybe it's not so much the physical feeling as the mentality of it, the knowing that I'm failing and can't get out, much like drowning. This case is really getting to me.
I'm sitting at my desk, suit jacket tossed haphazardly on the floor, tie loosened, and shirt sleeves rolled up to my elbows. To any onlooker I probably would seem completely calm and composed, the perfect picture of a man hard at work. But inside is a totally different story. With only two weeks until our first court appearance, I'm frantic.
It's as if I'm in an icy sea, flailing my arms, kicking and screaming, while onlookers who see me but really don't watch indifferently from a nearby lifeboat that I just can't seem to reach. Now I know what it feels like to drown.
'Fear death by water, indeed.' My thoughts are sarcastic as ever, they never give me a reprieve.
"Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison"
I stop suddenly. Where the hell did that come from? I am by no means the type that randomly quotes poetry, although to say that I'm not well read would be a lie. Sure, I enjoy Eliot as much as the next intellectual, but I don't generally make his work a part of my daily life.
Somehow those verses stuck in my head. In a way, they apply so well to my current life; maybe my outburst makes more sense. I've always been in my own prison, but now more so than ever. Why? I'm not entirely sure. But the verse is depressingly true. Man creates his own prison, and confirms that prison by "hearing the turning of the key," that is, to long for and seek out freedom. I've been imprisoned for most of my life. The worst kind of captivity is that which is self-imposed, the kind that one is only too aware of, but cannot escape. It's as if I can see the key to unlock the door and let myself out, but it's just barely out of reach, and I don't really understand what it is.
I'm not sure how, but I know the Kamiya case has something to do with my key. With every fiber of my being, I can sense that there is something different about this case. Exactly what it is, I'm completely unsure. Perhaps it's the challenge, or the way Kaoru is defending her little brother this way, but I don't really think that's all there is to it. There is something deeply profound about this that I've yet to uncover. I'm just hoping that with time Fate or Knowledge or Whatever-the-fuck-you-want-to-call-it will let me know just what the hell that is.
Tired. I'm so very tired. Not in the general sense of the word, though. Physically, I'm doing pretty well. I've consumed more sugar and caffeine than I typically care to ingest in one day, but it's not going to kill me. My tiredness is more of an overwhelming fatigue that's rooted deep within my soul and radiates from center outward to make my life a living hell. At least I don't have to kill anyone tonight. I don't think I have the energy.
It's hard to say what it is that makes me so weary. Perhaps it's my tremendous hated of the world and the people living here that drags me down. Anyone who heard me say that would immediately recommend that I see a psychiatrist. I can just picture that:
"So, what do you think your problem is?"
"Well, every few nights, I go out and hack someone's head off. That's sort of a bummer, and a pain in the ass when it comes to laundry. Then, I go to work as a lawyer where I defend cases I don't need or want. I don't need my job, and I hate it, but I go anyhow. That one's a real bitch. Right now I'd really like to blow up the world, just because the people really piss me off. I'd have to say my real problem is with my mother though. Never knew her. Or my father either, for that matter. But ah well. It probably all is because of some strange underlying sexual tension. Funny how everything seems to work out that way, isn't it?"
That would be interesting, to say the least. I don't really like Freudian analysis, it makes human beings sound even worse off than they already are.
When I blink my eyes, realizing that I'm once again drifting off into my mind (you'd think it would be bad for an assassin to do that, wouldn't you?), I find that I'm standing in front of my apartment door. I hate it when I do that, go from one place to another without remembering anything in between. It's rather disconcerting, to put it mildly. Though I never really feel off-guard, I just don't like doing it. There has to be something wrong with me.
Pushing the door open, I ignore the taunting of my mind and kick my shoes off. The door slamming behind me, I drag myself to the living room couch and fall down right where I am. Kaoru's pretty voice floats to my ears from where she's singing in her bedroom, but I fling an arm over my head and close my eyes, effectively shutting her out. Her voice is nice enough, I guess, but I am in no mood to listen to her right now.
"Kenshin?" What on earth does she want?
Not bothering to answer, I wait a minute and, surely enough, she pads softly into the room. I feel her eyes on me, but I keep mine shut. There's no way that I'm going to fall asleep, of course, but I can pretend, can't I? She simply makes an ambiguous humming noise and sits down by my head.
Before I can respond or move, her hands are on my shoulders, rubbing firmly. There's no way to keep myself from arching my aching shoulders into her touch, it feels too good. This is a type of indulgence I've never experienced, and I'll be damned if I'm going to stop her now. I allow her to maneuver me, sit me up, so that she can knead her fingers into my back. Hell, if this makes her happy, I might as well enjoy it. She doesn't say a word, just silently works the tension out of my body. And, with nothing more than a smile, she leaves again.
I lie back, wondering about what just went on. Normally, I don't like to be touched; it's just one of those strange quirks. Alright, maybe it's just downright weird, but I shun human contact. However, I just permitted Kaoru to massage my back. And I enjoyed it. What is this world coming to?
Before I can answer myself, I hear her voice, soft but clear. "Quando fiam ceu chelidon -- O swallow swallow..."
My eyes widen in shock, this coincidence is too great to be mere coincidence. I don't know I've spoken until the words leave my mouth. "When shall I be like the swallow..." 'O swallow swallow' is for the moment disregarded.
"That I may cease to be silent." Her answer is fainter than her previous words.
That Kaoru bears any resemblance to Philomela is something I didn't think about. Perhaps I should have. How long will she have to hold her tongue? Forever? One day longer? To her grave? Life is too uncertain.
A/N: Ah. The gloriousness of poetry. In case you don't know this already, references include "fear death by water," the four lines that speak of prison and the key, and "Quando fiam ceu chelidon -- O swallow swallow". All of them are taken from T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land." The poem is amazingly brilliant, and something I suggest everyone read. However, it's extremely difficult and sounds quite random if you don't take the time to analyze it, so... uh... yeah... I don't know, it's late and I'm on allergy medication, so I'm kind of losing my train of thought about halfway through my sentences. Anyhow, what was I saying? Oh yeah, Eliot. I just wanted to mention that while it may seem way too coincidental that Kenshin and Kaoru both reference the same poem, it really isn't. "The Waste Land" is one of the most influential poems of... well... ever... I've already set up Kaoru to be very well educated and intellectual, which makes it sensible that she'd have studied Eliot. And Kenshin... well... with the way I've written him in this story, "The Waste Land" is the type of thing he'd eat right up. (What's better for him to enjoy than a poem about the cultural decline of society? Besides, I'm not going to make him into some self-proclaimed prophet who just knows everything. He has to learn like everyone else, ne?) Anyhow, I just really love the poem, so I had to put it in here. It's nice to have a story that I can actually use some of this stuff in... Oh yeah! And if you don't know who Philomela is, either you're not a nerd like me or you aren't learning anything in your classes. Look up Greek mythology and Philomela if you have no clue what I'm talking about. Perhaps I should have explained the story behind that reference, but that sort of blows all the subtlety of the story to hell. So... yeah... uh... G'night!