Amor Fictus
Written by Sakki-san
Anything you haven't heard of belongs to me.
Anything you HAVE heard of, doesn't.
Ran supported himself on his elbows, shocked eyes wide, his mouth open as he gasped for air. His chest heaved up and down, up and down. A sharp pain raced around in his legs and just below his waist.
He'd been having a nightmare. He was running on the field in PE again, chasing after the frisbee. That sophomore, Ken, was ahead of him, and he was catching up again. They both jumped at the same time, and Ken gave that triumphant scream. And, just like before, Ran had reached over him to get the frisbee, feeling the jerk of shock from Ken as someone actually caught the frisbee with him. Just like before, they landed, Ran on top of Ken, his legs on either side of the younger boy's own, his arms on opposite sides of Ken's chest. He looked down again.
Somehow, the frisbee was gone, and Ken's arms were lying at his sides. His eyes were staring fearfully up into Ran's. Ran remembered his first thoughts at this sudden amazing position, the ones he'd actually had in real life.
Only this time there was no one watching him, no one around at all. The entire schoolyard was empty of people other than him and Ken. So this time, instead of getting up and helping the younger boy up, he lowered his head and parted his lips slightly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would get to indulge in the urges he so suddenly felt at that moment…
But then he was thrown back, off of Ken, and crashed into the ground. There was a wall behind him when he landed. His head snapped back and cracked against the concrete, causing a major headache and only partial consciousness. Yet through a dazed vision he tried to see Ken.
The boy was missing, and in his place was a shadowy figure. No, not shadowy…entirely white. Fuzzy and entirely white. The only discernable things about the image besides the body were two entirely black eyes. It slowly walked toward him.
The most shocking part of the nightmare – and possibly most terrifying – was when Ran reached up to touch the back of his head and found that his shirt was missing. Looking down he realized that he was entirely naked. A ferocious terror seized him, and he tried to get up and run, but suddenly the white figure was pinning him down, its face getting closer and closer to his, and its legs keeping his from closing together.
He remembered the panic, the dead-out fright as those icy white lips closed tightly over his own, and then the blazing, unending pain just after something brushed against his thighs.
And then he woke up.
Now he was sitting straight up in bed, his dread fading as he recognized his own room and the blankets covering his partially clothed body. Carefully, almost anxiously, he lifted the blankets, half expecting to see his bed drenched with blood.
However, it was dry, completely dry, if not soaked with sweat. He dropped the blankets and collapsed back onto his bed. He ran one shaking hand through his hair, shoving the damp red strands away from his face.
Usually, Ran's nightmares were reminiscent of his terrifying, bloody past. But this? He'd never been touched like that in his life. Nobody had ever looked at him in a way other than hate or fear. He'd suffered violence, murder, everything that had to do with killing…
Rape?
It had never happened to him. It had happened around him, but never to anyone he knew. Well, not that he was aware of , anyway…
Still. It scared him. Why would he have a nightmare about something like that? And why was Ken in it?
He reminisced about the day. He really hadn't expected to tackle Ken, but it had been an accident…he hadn't expected Ken to act the way he did and miss a landing. Then they'd both crashed, him on top of Ken, in a position that, if anybody had seen, would have questioned furiously.
The first thing that had come into his mind was holy shit. The second thing was kiss him. Now why the hell he'd thought that was completely unknown to him. Certainly he couldn't have done that.
Nobody liked him. Not even the losers of his own rank. So why should the most popular kid in the school even consider him at all? Ran thought that the only reason the boy hadn't shoved Ran off him was because Ran was a junior. Or maybe because the other boy was smaller than him, and possibly weaker.
Could there have been another reason?
During English, when they had been selected as partners, Ran had seen Ken blush furiously most of the hour. And when the boy had leaned over to see his words and accidentally leaned on him, there had been a definite note of embarrassment in his stuttered words.
Ran himself had blushed a little. Ken's body had felt so comforting on his shoulder, just like all those years ago with his s…
No.
You can't remember these things, and you can't like Ken. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve anything he might just barely consider giving to you. You are not someone to love, and therefore you are not someone to be loved.
Ran stared at his cracked ceiling and let his eyes shut slowly. One forearm rested on his forehead as he fiercely reminded himself that he could not be loved.
So if he does like you, then what will you say to him? That you hate him? That he can't love you, that you can't love him? You might break his heart.
Ran closed his eyes and tried to ignore the voices. It was late at night. He wanted sleep. It was almost nine at night, couldn't he get any sleep?
The sounds of Yohji getting ready in the bathroom only added to Ran's insomnia, and eventually he got out of bed. His pants were beaten sweatpants. Yohji's pajamas…did he even have any? He just went to sleep in what he wore that day or without anything on.
Ran needed to ask him something.
He shuffled out of his room and into the doorway of the bathroom. Yohji was leaned over the sink, humming to himself as he ran a hand along his face.
"Damn, but you are one good looking hunk of hot stuff," he murmured between his humming.
"You're really boastful."
Yohji looked at Ran in the mirror, seeing the younger boy leaning against the doorframe clad only in pants and with ruffled hair. Spinning around and seizing Ran by the shoulders was enough to shock the redhead into submission. He turned back to the mirror, one arm still around Ran's shoulders.
"Damn straight I am. I'm telling the truth though." Yohji grinned and smoothed out Ran's hair. "If you put a little effort into your looks in the morning, you'd have a hoard of women after you!"
"I'm not interested in women," Ran said coldly.
"So it's men that draw your attention?" Yohji raised one eyebrow. He felt Ran tense up under him.
"N-No! I'm not interested in anybody."
"Sure y'ain't, hot stuff." Yohji playfully punched Ran in the arm and released the boy. "Now, you wanted to say something? You never get up and just lean in the doorway if you want me to shut up. You usually haul me outta the bathroom by my pants."
"…You're an expert on loving other people, right?"
"Mhm. Doctor Love, that's my middle name!"
"Shut up and listen to me. There's…well, if there was someone who liked you, but you didn't think you could like them back…what would you do?"
For once, the player was silent. He was the only one besides Ran who knew every bit of Ran's past. So he knew what Ran was saying here. After everything he had suffered, should he be allowed to love?
"Ran," he said finally, after some thought, "You shouldn't let your past stand in the way of a good love life." He leaned casually against the counter. "I know you don't want to love any more because you're afraid to loose them again. Right?"
Ran said nothing, but the way he averted his gaze gave Yohji his answer.
"If there's someone you really like, or who really likes you, you should be nice. There might just be a chance of a great love ahead of you."
There was more silence. Finally, Ran turned back to Yohji, his glare fixed in place.
"For once, you said something intelligent." He stalked out of the room. Behind him, Yohji smiled.
He'd noticed a slight waver in Ran's voice and a shine in his eyes.
"You're in love with SOMEone…we'll find out who soon enough." The man turned back to the mirror and examined his own visage again.
As for Ran…he had gone back into his room and shut the door. Leaning his back against it, he considered Yohji's words.
Don't let your past stand in the way of a good love life.
Ran snorted. Yohji didn't have any idea what it was like to be him. With a past like his? How could he keep his sister's terrified screaming away whenever he felt a warm touch on any part of his body?
"I can't love again," he murmured to himself. "I can't hurt anybody else. I can't drag anybody else into my life."
You're just afraid that YOU'LL get hurt. That's how it always is. You're icy cold and you keep everyone out just so that you can live locked away in your own private world. You're not afraid to hurt anyone else. You're afraid to be hurt yourself.
Ran hissed and walked over to his bed. He collapsed onto the matted pile of sheets and bashed his head into his pillow again and again.
"No! I don't care about myself! I don't want anyone else to suffer! She would want it! She would want it, damn you!"
She wanted you to be happy. But here you are, harassing yourself daily. This is how you honor the memory of a little sister that loved you?
"No! Shut up! Shut up and go away!!"
You can't tell yourself to go away, Ran. You haven't honored her memory since the funerals. You're just a conceited, half-hearted bastard who thinks he's better than everyone else!
"I said shut up!" he screamed, whirling and slamming his head into the wall. It hit with an explosive force, and Ran crumpled instantly. His fists clenched as he reeled from the blow, trying to force away the excruciating pain that was vivid in his skull. Why Yohji didn't come was only because Ran had done this before and told the blonde man to leave.
As he lay there, trying to grasp control of reality again, Ran saw a pair of coffee-colored eyes in his vision. He blinked once, twice, and tried to see them again. They had fled from view, but he could still remember the sweetness in them…the sweetness of someone who was willing to help and love.
Just like his sister.
Her eyes hadn't been brown, though…her eyes had been blue, so blue they were almost indigo. Such a pure, perfectly blue, like shining sapphires on that sweet, innocent face. That beautiful, untouched skin that was covered in blood and –
No!
"I can't…I can't remember. I can't." He mumbled these words over and over, but slowly, slyly, memories were creeping back to him. The words…the screaming…that terrible, horrible, fear-paralyzed screaming…the blood…the bright lights…
The taste of Death.
Ran opened his dry mouth in hopes of getting it a little more moist when that taste flooded him again. Blood and bile, a bitter taste flooding his mouth and burning his tongue. Vomit joined it, and it became even crueler. The acidic taste roasted the inside of his mouth as he touched open wounds on his body and saw the blood spray…open wounds on the body lying across his lap and watching the blood trickle across his legs…
"It'll…all be ok…Ran…"
"Yes. Yes. It'll all be ok. Just stay awake. Don't fall asleep. Don't shut your eyes. Please stay awake."
"You'll…you'll be ok without me…"
"No! Don't say that! You'll live and we can go to a different city together. Remember? We were going to make sure Mom and Dad had a good burial. You and I were going to live together forever."
"Everything…will be ok…"
Ran reeled as he tried to force the memories away. No! He couldn't remember! He didn't want to! It hurt so much…too much…to remember.
"Go away," he garbled into the air, his mouth thick with a past taste. Then he swallowed and screamed to the heavens:
"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"
Silence followed his outburst. The only thing one could hear was Ran's labored breathing and the sound of cars passing by outside. For some time this was all that went on in Ran's near-empty room.
His fists were clenched against his head, and his back was bent, like was trying to curl up into nothing. His legs were loose on his bed while his hair was spread wildly around his face and on his pillow.
Everything…everything hurt again. It was like being hit with something big, something huge. Something like…
A car?
Ran's eyes opened and rolled with terror.
"No, no, don't come back…please…I don't want to remember…"
You have to remember. If you don't your little sister will fade before you die.
"I don't…I can't…I…I…"
So you're saying you don't love her? You're saying that she's not worth remembering?
"No! I love her…I love her…"
Something appeared before Ran's eyes, and his back arched. His body writhed in pain as he remembered. His fists clenched and unclenched against his head, pulling out strands of dark red hair. His throat and mouth burned as something flooded them. A deadly pressure formed all around him. When he realized he couldn't breathe, he lost control and never even heard himself screaming.
"Ran! Ran!! Wake up, you idiot!" Something hit him hard across the face. He blinked and tried to discern reality from dizzy hallucination.
Someone was standing over him, holding him by the shoulders. A few blinks later and he realized it was Yohji, freshly preened and jacket on.
"Ran, what's wrong? I've never heard you scream like that before."
"I…I…someone's…in my head…"
"Someone's in your head?" Yohji repeated skeptically. "Well…we can take you to the doctor this weekend." The blonde man set Ran back down on the bed. "God, you sounded like you were choking and screaming at the same time. Are you sure it was just another nightmare?"
Ran turned his head to the side, looking dazedly at the wall.
"…yeah…."
I never even fell asleep…
Yohji gave him a piercing look before heading out the door. Moments later Ran heard the telltale click of the front door being locked from the outside. Yohji had gone, and now Ran had the house to himself. Usually he slept at night, but this had changed his whole idea of sleep…
With Yohji gone, nobody would come to drag him out of his dark realities created by his memories.
If you fall asleep, maybe you'll have another nightmare. Wouldn't you enjoy that?
"Enjoy?" he whispered.
You know you wanted that little sophomore more than you ever wanted anybody else in the world.
"No…I…" Ran hissed and closed his eyes tightly. "Get…go away…get out of my head!"
I am you, Ran. I can't get out of your mind because I am your mind. And there's nothing you can do to stop me. You have to recognize your selfishness and atone for it before I'll go.
"No!!" Ran yelled. "NO!"
No? You mean you refuse to realize that your little sister died because of you?
"N-no…she…it wasn't my fault…" Ran staggered out of bed, clutching his skull.
It was entirely your fault. You let everything happen. You KNEW it was going to happen, and you just let it go on.
"I did not…!
Bullshit. You knew about it ahead of time. Remember?
"No…," Ran hissed as he opened his door and limped down the hall.
No? You don't remember? Then think. Go deep into your memories and find it. Go on, try it. I dare you.
"No! I don't want to remember! The deeper…" He dropped to his knees and crawled into the kitchen. "…the deeper…I go…the less chance I…have…of…getting out!"
Maybe that would be better for everyone. That little Ken won't have to think about you any more, and Yohji wouldn't have such a burden on his hands.
"Shut up!" Ran almost screamed as he inched across the linoleum floor. He pulled open a drawer and fumbled around inside with one hand. He knew what he was looking for. Where was it?!
There! He clutched onto a metal handle and pulled something out.
Atone, Ran! Atone for the sins you've so deeply committed! You'll hear this voice until you do!
"I'll get rid of you," Ran said hoarsely, an insane grin creeping onto his features. "I can make you go away."
Oh really? And just how will you do that?
"Like this."
Ran lifted the something he'd pulled from the drawer moments ago. It was a steak knife, long and sharp. The edge was razor sharp, the blade unstained: the perfect weapon for getting rid of unwanted visitors.
For long moments, he stared at the weapon. It was so clean…so perfect. Sweetly innocent on the outside, powerful and deadly intentions hidden underneath.
Aw, are you just going to look at it? You coward! You could never use it. You're too scared to use it on anybody, much less yourself!
"Shut up! I'm not afraid of anything!" Ran choked out. Suddenly, he whipped the knife up, set it against his shoulder, dug in, and pulled down. All in less than three seconds.
At first he couldn't feel anything, but then there was an amazing pain. Blazing, flaring, scorching, blistering pain. He felt something stick in his throat. It flew out as he emitted a torn scream of pain. His eyes wide, his arm bleeding, Ran watched a crimson river flow across the floor.
He looked at the glittering red and silver blade and realized the enormity of what he'd done. For a moment, he felt his stomach twist and turn, but it was forgotten as he threw up. Everything he'd eaten that day along with what he hadn't came out. When it was over, he was doubled over, clutching his stomach with his good arm, still gripping the knife in his hand.
Again and again he retched at the smell of the blood, remembering everything he shouldn't have remembered. Familiar presences burned brightly in his mind, forcing him to throw up for every person he saw. Soon there was nothing left in his stomach. Still he threw up.
After a short time, Ran managed to stop puking. Blood trickled from his mouth because there was nothing more to come out. Slowly, carefully, he pulled himself back upright and leaned his head back against the cabinets. His eyes were closed. It…hurt. Again. But this time, it was a hurt on the inside. Last time it had been a hurt on the outside…
Just like when you were hit with a car. Isn't that right, you precious little baby? You're nothing more than porcelain; pretty on the outside, but easily broken. Hah. You're already crying after one hit.
Ran realized that yes, he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face out of the pain.
"N-no…I…I'm not…..I won't…I…I…"
Give it up. You're so useless that nobody gives a damn about you. You're so pathetic that not even the lowest creature on the earth would look at you twice. Not that you deserve it.
"SHUT UP!!!" Ran screamed. He whirled and struck at nothing with the knife. The fingers on his bleeding left hand twitched occasionally out of shock. He tried to slice at whatever was in the room talking to him, but he didn't hit anything.
Oh, so you want me to die, hm? Then you'll have to kill yourself. Maybe you'll have pity taken on you when you get to Hell. You want to know what they do to people like you down there?
"SHUT UP!" he screamed again, slashing the blade of the knife across his collarbones. He'd been aiming for his throat, but had missed. Still, the pain seared across this new wound.
He didn't even have the strength to scream. He pitched forward and collapsed, landing on his side. The knife simply fell from his fingertips. Strands of hair floated in the blood, mingling and vanishing because they were the same color.