Hours passed. Darkness filtered in through the window slowly, but Youji's mind had been growing lighter. The man he held in his arms slept restlessly, shivering in the inner grip of some dark dream, panting as if he ran from something. Youji had stretched out next to him on the bed, arm pillowing his head, other arm rubbing his back. Whatever the hell had happened to his Beautiful one, it was more than just a gunshot to the head.
The past was less than smoke in Youji's mind. Of his own life, he remembered only Aya's violet eyes, the sound of Aya's voice. He knew he had to be at least 23 or 24, so there had to be more. There had to be family, a job, a life, but he didn't feel any burning urge to seek them out. He knew he'd been in the hospital for a couple of weeks, but even that seemed odd. Not like any hospital he could imagine, but he put that down to not really remembering anything. Deep down in his soul he knew he didn't want to remember.
As Aya's sleep deepened, he slipped free of the bed. His body remembered a style of martial art that his head had no name for. Graceful and fitting easily with his body, he flowed through a kata of tai chi like blocks and kicks. Fatigue set in quickly in his legs, back, but not a bad kind, just the kind that said he was a little rusty, that he hadn't moved that way so much recently. Curious about what kind of movements he had been making, he closed his eyes and let his body move in the most comfortable way. With his eyes closed he felt his body move through a new kata, one that when he opened his eyes, he could almost see the oddest cat's cradle ever between his
fingers. His mind rejected the kata violently. This wasn't real, this kata!
Shaking his fingers as if they'd been burned, he moved to his closet, and quietly picked himself a shirt, something loose and cottony. There were black clothes in the back of the closet, leather and long, like gothic assassin costumes and those revolted him just as much as the kata had.
Wearing just the untucked shirt, frayed blue jeans, and the dressing around his head, he slipped out of his room and down the stairs. There was a shop below, clean and bright, filled with beautiful things. He liked this much better than the dark ghost clothing in his
closet. Leaning on the railing, Youji watched the other two of his friends, a Ken and an Omi, deal with a whole throng of school girls. Snickering, he wondered if they were selling home work solutions. Watching the girls, he felt a great feeling of warmth and love for the world. It wasn't sexual attraction like when he was near Aya, but just as precious.
The younger of his friends must have heard him snickering. "Youji-kun! You should be resting."
"I am resting," Youji said, elbow propped up on the railing. "Hello ladies!"
Tittering and giggles went through the shop, blushing and pointing, and Youji wasn't at all sure what he'd done to set that off! About ten girls, young enough to need a baby sitter to old enough to be the baby sitter gathered around the stairs where he lounged. Half a dozen cards were passed up to him, and he plucked respectfully, smiling kindly. "So very kind of you all! But I'm not in any danger, really, just banged my head, that's all."
If they'd been anime girls, there would have been hearts filling the room. "Youji-sama! I was so worried about you! Are you really well?"
"Yes, yes, of course I am, Imouto-chan," he said smiling at her kindly.
"I lit a candle for you at the temple," another said.
"I'm going to do that too!"
"I brought you cakes, last week. Did you like them?"
"They were delicious," Youji lied. His memory was just fine from when he'd woken up in the hospital and he hadn't gotten any cakes. His friend named Omi suddenly found a rack of cards very much in need of dusting. "The best cakes I've ever had!"
"Now now," Ken, who seemed to be both the youngest and the most practical of them all. Youji wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Omi really owned the shop and the rest of them just lived there. "Much more rest is needed. Come and visit tomorrow, please?"
And just like that the whole fan club was swept out of the shop. Chin propped on his palm, amusement dancing in green eyes, Youji wished he had that kind of control over women, over anyone. "How do you do it, Ken-kun?"
Omi turned, blinking and the one Youji had called Ken got this stricken look on his face. Youji grinned, rather crooked, apologetic. "Er, Omi."
"You got our names wrong," the dark haired angry chipmunk said. "Your short term memory going too, Kudou?"
It took Youji half a thought to realize that Kudou was his name. "What'd I ever do to you?" Youji held up a hand. "I don't want to know. Really," he said, as if he implied some kind of sexual innuendo. "Really, look, I'm sorry as hell if I did something that hurt your feelings or something."
Youji padded the rest of the way down the stairs, feeling uncomfortable at the look of complete incredulousness on Chipmunk's face. "I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you, okay?"
"How can you not remember, you bastard," Ken snarled.
"Oh, the hostility in here is a little sharp, uh? You got claws or something? Look. I said I was sorry. You wanna fight or something?"
"Youji-kun," the chibi one said, after glaring at Chipmunk. "If you need something, one of us can go get it for you. What do you need?"
"Well, it's kind of personal, and I'd like to go myself. Do I have any money?" Youji smiled. Those missing cakes ought to be worth something, after all.
"Yes, Youji-kun, you have money," Chibi said. "I will go with you. Ken-kun, you can watch the shop for a little while, right?"
"OH yeah, sure I can," Chipmunk said, nose twitching. "The fan girls have already been and gone."
"You're a pal," Youji said, grinning. "Now, my shoes?"
"Wait here, please," Chibi said, slipping into the kitchen.
As soon as the chibi was gone, Youji straightened up. "So, you got a problem with me?"
"Just be careful with yourself, Dumbass. I don't know what the fuck's wrong with you, but if you get your ass killed, you think I'm gonna go to hell to drag your ass back?"
Youji arched an eyebrow at the tirade. So, he'd done something dangerous, and in the shadows of his mind, he feared that the chipmunk, er Ken, was justified in his anger. "Look, I said I was sorry, and I meant it. I don't know what stupid thing I did, but I'm not feeling like doing anything stupid anymore. I don't think I've felt this good in a long time."
"Yeah?" Ken said, voice low enough that only Youji could hear, moving in close enough that Youji could see the flecks of light brown in the dark eyes. "Yeah? Good for you, but that means the rest of us just have to take care of the things you feel too good to take care of."
"I don't understand," Youji said, confused, a sadness rising in him. "I'm sorry. I'll do whatever I need to."
"You know what I really want from you, Youji?"
"No. What do you want?"
"I want you to stay like this. Don't remember. Even if you remember, don't. Just stay like this. I don't need you getting in my way."
"Ken-kun! Let him be," Omi snapped coming back with a pair of boots in one hand and a wallet in the other. "Youji-kun, Ken-kun's just always had a bit of a temper. He doesn't mean anything."
Could have fooled Youji. For a moment, Youji was pretty sure the look in those dark eyes was down right lethal. For just a moment, he was sure he was looking into the eyes of a killer. He shook off the feeling and reached for the wallet. Giving Omi a smile, he sorted
through the contents of what seemed like his own wallet. Expensive wallet, worth maybe five hundred dollars just for the soft black leather itself. There was another thousand dollars in the wallet, crisp clean bills, untouched by human hands, probably from the bank. The idea was brand new as well, though the edges were roughed up in an effort to make it look used, but the mag strip was still smooth and shiny. He had the distinct feeling that it was made just for him, just because something on the old one would have sparked memories they didn't want him to have.
Despite being pretty sure that the chipmunk one was really dangerous and pissed off over something personal, Youji didn't feel any danger here. He knew he belonged here in this shop. There was something missing though. Something that had been in his wallet for a long
time, years. Quickly, growing desperate, he went through all the places of the wallet again. "Where is it? There's something missing."
"What's missing, Youji-kun," Omi asked.
His memory supplied no images, no words. There was... nothing. So blank he almost wanted to bang his head on the counter. But his fingers remembered holding it. It, this missing part of his life, had been an id card, paper, yellowing, folded. Thin paper when he unfolded it.
He'd been proud of it, so proud. It had been the start of his life, on which everything was going to follow. He didn't know what it was. "I don't know," he admitted sadly, putting the wallet into his back pocket, then went about putting on the boots.
They fit so well, but his skin didn't like being near them. They were like the gothic bitch clothes in his closet. He'd buy new. He had the money. "Let's go. Thanks, Ken-kun. For watching the store and caring and all."
"Shut up."
"Everything's back to normal, between he and I?" Youji asked Omi, as they left the shop.
"Kind of," Omi said, smiling.
Very soon, Youji was about to find out that Tokyo was a big place if all you wanted was a pair of boots and a red candle.