Amor Fictus
Written by Sakki-san
Anything you haven't heard of belongs to me.
Anything you HAVE heard of, doesn't.
When Yohji walked in the door alone at 3 the next morning, the first thing he realized was that Ran's door was open. This alone shocked him. Ran never left his door open. The second thing he noticed was that the kitchen light was on, and something red was next to the almost entirely closed door. Slowly, he edged over to the door, and pushed it open.
The scent of blood smashed into his face, and his eyes opened wide at the sight before him. Ran was lying on his right side in a pool of blood and vomit, a slash in his arm and a slash on his chest. He was completely unconscious, and next to his hand lay a sharp knife.
"Ran!" he just about screamed, tearing into the room and ripping off his jacket. "Ran, what the hell did you do to yourself?!!" He wrapped his jacket around Ran's chest and arm as best he could. "You stupid…what's wrong with you?!"
Yohji pulled the unconscious, blood-stained redhead off the floor and held him close to his chest. He didn't mind that blood was starting to stain his pants or his shirt. He could think only of the completely insane idiot he had to get to the hospital, and fast.
"God, Ran…why did you do this?"
~~~
"Mr. Kudou?"
Yohji looked up. His head had been buried in his hands for the past hour, which had seemed to drag on for years.
"You can come in now. The doctor will talk to you."
The blond stood up and followed the nurse out of the ER waiting room and into the back. His face was pale from the anxiety of waiting.
Past doors, past hallways, and finally into a single room. Yohji restrained himself from rushing to the side of the bed. On the other side stood a man in a white coat; the doctor who would explain everything to Yohji. Or so he hoped. Slowly he approached the bed, and the nurse left.
Lying in the bed was Ran. His arm and chest were bandaged neatly, and there was something hooked up to his arm. Surprisingly, there was something over Ran's mouth and nose, leading to an oxygen tank. What was it called again? Yohji didn't know, but he was confused as to why they would put that on Ran.
"Please, sit down." Yohji pulled up a chair and sat down across from the doctor. From the way he slumped, the doctor thought that Yohji was severely stressed. Which he was.
"All right. Tell me. Is he ok?"
"He should be fine," the doctor began. "Although he was bleeding for some time, and not just externally. There was some severe internal bleeding. It was probably caused by him throwing up so much."
"Why is he hooked up to that thing?" Yohji asked, motioning to the oxygen tank.
"When you brought him in, he seemed very weak. When we tried to find his pulse, it was almost gone. We think he may have tried to stop himself from breathing."
"Oh, God…," Yohji groaned, dropping his forehead into his hand.
"Do you know what might have prompted this behavior? Has he acted like this before?" The doctor came over to Yohji's side of the bed.
"He's always acted a little off, but he's never tried something like this before. I don't know what could have caused anything…except…"
"Except?" said the doctor.
"…he was saying that someone was in his head last night."
Silence followed this. Yohji blinked back a few tears and swallowed hard, trying to form words.
"I…I told him I'd take him to the doctor the next day…to…you know. Have his head examined."
"You should do that as soon as he gets out. What was he like? What sort of things has he done?"
"…"
Yohji considered. Ran had often fallen unconscious after long bouts of memory recovery. Sometimes he would hurt himself. Suicide was sure to have crossed his mind at least once. But what was prominent?
"Well…once…a year or so back…he…broke his window. With his hand." Yohji cringed, remembering Ran's screams that had drawn him. "He said later that he was trying to find his sister…he thought she was outside, and he didn't know his window was shut."
"His sister. Is she dead?"
"…yes."
"And do you think that may have prompted this behavior?"
"I'm pretty sure. Both his parents and his sister were killed at one time, and then someone tried to kill him." Yohji rubbed his eyes. "He's gonna get mad at me for telling you all this…"
"He needs to be spoken to by a counselor." The doctor turned and looked at Yohji reprovingly. "Haven't you tried to talk to him?"
"I have!" Yohji shot back, glaring through his fingers and hair. "God, have I tried. But every time I try to talk to him, he just…shoves me away. After he told me his life story, he refused to say anything else."
More silence followed this. Finally, the doctor put one hand comfortingly on Yohji's shoulder.
"You've done ok in taking care of him if this is the first time. Generally cases like that are in here all the time."
"Thanks," Yohji said, not at all reassured.
"Anyway, come with me. I can help you arrange a session for him with one of my colleagues down at the University. He works in psychology."
Yohji nodded and walked out of the room, shooting one last worried glance at Ran's unconscious form before he left.
~~~
White.
That was the first thing Ran thought when he opened his eyes.
Everything…is white.
He turned his head slightly and saw that the walls were white, the floor was white, the ceiling was white. The curtains on the window were white. The blankets on his bed were white. Even the bandages on his arm were white.
Bandages?
Ran blinked slowly, gazing at his left arm in confusion. Bandages? He had been bleeding. Bleeding severely. Terrible pain shooting through his body while someone laughed at him inside his head.
Carefully, Ran pulled his upper body off the bed and placed a hand over part of his face. There was nothing there except his mouth and his face. The respiratory mask sat nearby, still attached to the oxygen tank but turned off.
I'm…in a hospital…
He looked up and at the wall. It was an endless, pure white. Embedded in the wall was a door. The door wasn't white; it was brown, made of wood. It made a nice contrast to the white and relaxed Ran's eyes.
Then the door opened. He blinked several times and saw…Yohji? No, it couldn't be Yohji. It was a woman, dressed in white. She saw him sitting up and was at his side in a moment, gently pushing him back down.
"Please, lay down. Don't strain yourself. I wouldn't want you to get hurt." Ran, surprised by the sudden movement, fell back onto the pillow. The woman, who had long black hair, pulled the sheets back up over his chest.
She began checking his pulse, his breathing, the usual hospital stuff. Ran watched her work. He had nothing better to do. After all, there was nobody here besides her, and his head felt so…drugged. Like a huge weight was pressing down on his forehead, keeping him from thinking too far outside himself.
Or from going to far into himself.
"Well, I'm glad you're awake," the woman said suddenly, standing up to look at him. "The doctors were worried about you, and that friend of yours came into check basically every hour." She smiled a little.
"…how…long…have I…?"
"How long have you been here?" Ran nodded. His throat burned with something vile. "Two days, I think. Don't worry. Your school was informed that you wouldn't be there yesterday."
Ran looked away. At least he hadn't had to deal with Crawford for a good two or so days…
"Well, I'll go inform your friend that you're awake. Would you like some water?" Ran nodded. "Ok then. Just relax."
As soon as she left, Ran pulled himself up so he could lean against the back of the bed comfortably. He reached up and lightly touched his hair. Feeling the light, fine strands of silky red reassured him that he was alive and well.
I suppose this is nice for the time being…
So why was he here? He couldn't totally remember. He had been bleeding, and it had been his fault. Someone had been talking to him. Who? He knew he'd known the person for a long time. Yohji? Maybe someone from his past. Maybe he had been talking to a ghost. Or a spirit. Maybe a poltergeist…
Ah, why did it matter? Right now, if he shut his eyes, everything was black instead of white. Black as pitch, black as night, black as ebony. Black like the hair of…someone familiar.
Ran frowned. He'd felt better only a few moments ago. Why were things so fuzzy now? Perhaps they'd drugged him. That was how his head felt…
He shook his head. Remember. You are alive, you're ok. Don't succumb to anything they throw at you! Black like the hair of his most hated teacher.
Crawford.
Ran clenched his fists. Crawford. God, he hated that man so much. Crawford didn't care about anybody other than himself. He always thought he was right, no matter what his students ever did.
Except Ran.
He smiled slightly at the memory. He had done the impossible. He had taken the problem that bastard had thrown at them and turned the answer right back in his face…
//
"Yesterday I handed out a word problem for extra credit. Anyone here who did it, please vocalize your answer now."
Several students timidly raised their hands, terrified under their teacher's hazel gaze. He sighed irritably and signaled for one of them to begin. She stood and read shakily and answer that had several mathematic mistakes in it. When she finished, she looked at her teacher.
"That was incorrect. Sit down. Next."
She slumped in her seat, hiding her face behind the document. The boy behind her stood up and read the problem, his answers just as evident as hers. Crawford dismissed him with a wave before he could finish and went on to the next.
Ran listened and went over his answer in his head, reading off the paper. His was entirely different than the other answers, which all followed the same pattern. He had found another way, an easier way, a much more advanced and critical way…
"Is that it? Nobody else?"
Ran stood up. Crawford hardly looked at him. Ran began to speak, refusing to sit down when Crawford glared at him and motioned his hand for Ran to stop.
Dead silence filled the classroom when he finished. Crawford was giving Ran a look to kill. Ran was glaring back, still standing, not wavering even slightly under the man's gaze.
"That answer," Crawford finally managed, "was incorrect."
"It wasn't."
The silence became so heavy that it could have cracked. Every head in the room was aimed at Ran, who refused to sit down or be quiet in the face of his teacher. For the first time in Crawford's 10 year history of teaching, no student had ever dared to challenge him directly.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Ran said as if he were speaking to a small child, "That I got a different answer, and that mine is correct and yours is not."
//
Damn that man!
Ran felt a tiny drop of blood form on his hand as his fingernails dug into his skin. Unfurling his fist revealed that he had accidentally cut himself.
Oh well…one little cut can't do anything. He hoped.
The red stained his pale skin, disrupting the flow of near-white and white around it. It was a nice change. Like the door. He pushed it around with his finger, smearing it across his hand. Another drop seemed to form before sinking back into the cut. Ran sighed and leaned his head back, trying to forget everything. At least he was alone.
Some time passed. There was a clock in the room, and Ran looked at it occasionally to check the time. First it was early in the afternoon; then it was a little later; then a little later. After around twenty minutes, the door flew open, and Yohji stumbled in, obviously out of breath.
"Ran!" he said in a hoarse voice. He rushed to the bedside and fell into the chair. "Ran! God, what the hell were you thinking?" One arm clamped Ran in a hug of relief. Yohji's breathing was hard, and his heart was beating fast.
He must have really run here fast, Ran thought to himself.
Finally, the man released him and held him at arm's length. His eyes held a mixture of happiness, confusion, and rage.
"All right. Start talking. Just what in the name of God was going on in your head that night?!"
"…does it matter?"
"Of course it matters!" Yohji looked as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Something went wrong, and you tried to kill yourself!! What was it?"
"…just…I went too deep."
"There had to be more than that." That green-eyed glare was fixated directly on Ran's eyes. Ran looked away.
"…"
"Were you hearing someone again?" Yohji asked.
Ran nodded slightly. He didn't feel like talking. The more he talked, the more Yohji would press, the deeper he'd have to go, and it didn't take a genius to figure out where that would end up.
"What were they saying?"
"…they…it…" Ran glared harshly at the wall, clamping tight to his composure. "It said I had to atone for my sister's death."
Yohji said nothing. He knew where Ran stood on his sister's death.
"It told me I was a coward. It said it wouldn't leave until I agreed with it and…killed myself."
Again there was silence. Then, Yohji slumped back into the chair.
"Oh, God, Ran…you're a schizo…"
"A what?"
"A schizophrenic. Someone who hears voices."
"What?" Ran glared at Yohji. "I'm not crazy. It was just my subconscious. I was just thinking to myself!"
"Yet you call it an it?"
"…that…you implied that!" Ran glared darkly at Yohji.
"So? You went along with it. Look, Ran. I talked with the doctor, and we got you an appointment with a psychologist."
"What?!" Ran's voice almost cracked. "You signed me up to see a shrink?!"
"It won't be that bad," Yohji said, glaring right back at Ran. "You need it. I don't care what you think and I don't care what you say. You're going if I have to drive you to it myself and duct tape you to the seat."
Ran matched glares with Yohji, but he knew he didn't have a choice. When that man decided something was settled, it was settled. Ran knew the consequences of fighting with the man over things like that…he'd ended up with both arms broken.
Yohji could be surprisingly lethal in battle.
"…Look. I'm really glad you're ok. I was scared you were gonna die." The blonde rubbed his forehead and gave Ran a weak smile. "When I first found you, it was just…God. I was shocked. I don't understand you, Ran, even though you've told me everything. Just remember that…you shouldn't die. You've got a life ahead of you. I'm sure you can work things out."
Ran's glare softened. Yohji cared for him like the older brother he'd never had and never wanted, but secretly desired. This man had taken on the father figure in his late teen years, which was why Ran was willing to tell him everything about his past.
"…Well, the doctor said you can walk out of the hospital tonight, if you're up to it. The appointment is scheduled for tomorrow. You think you can do it?"
Ran nodded. The clock read 3:15; that meant he might be out of here in less than two hours.
"Great. I'll be back around 5:30 to pick you up. They need to run a few more checks to make sure you're ok, and then you're out." One more shaky smile and Yohji left, closing the door quietly. Ran watched after him, completely convinced that he'd seen a trace of tears in the older man's eyes.
~~~
Yohji's driving had never been the best, but Ran knew he was being careful just for Ran's sake. Sunglasses were perched delicately on the bridge of his nose to block out the sun. His hair looked unruffled by the wind, as it had earlier, when he'd come in to visit Ran.
Now they were heading home in Yohji's corvette. The sleek red vehicle cruised stealthily through the streets, bathed in the glow of the setting sun. Neither man spoke for a long time, feeling the wind whip through their hair because the windows were rolled down.
At last Yohji spoke.
"Are you mad at me?"
"What would I be mad for?" Ran glared out the front window.
"For getting you that appointment tomorrow."
"…" His gaze dropped down a little. "…not really."
"That's a surprise." Yohji grinned and glanced at Ran for less than a second. "I thought you'd be berating me for ever considering that you'd need to go."
"I don't think I need to go," Ran said quietly. "I'm just not mad at you for signing me up."
"Oh." Yohji's grin faded as they kept moving. In a few moments they would be at the building. "…still. I thought you would have been angry with me."
"Hn."
They pulled into the building's parking lot and got out. As Yohji locked the doors, he said, "Oh, by the way. I stopped by the school yesterday and picked up the homework you missed. One of your teachers gave me a list that seemed pretty long. I think he was the one you were telling me about at the end of last quarter?"
Ran bristled and slammed the door a little hard.
"Yeah. Must have been him."
The two of them walked in silence up the stairs to their four-room-one-hallway flat. Upon getting inside, Yohji indicated to Ran where he'd set the list of homework: on Ran's desk.
Slowly, Ran picked through the pile. On top was his English homework: notes from Ken and vague ideas for the start of a story as well as mentions from his teacher as to what they had done and would be doing. A single note from his PE teacher was attached to a thick stack of rules, consequently saying that they would be playing frisbee for another two or so days and then the test.
When he lifted off the PE rules he saw what he'd been dreading. A single page loaded with instructions, page numbers, and problems for him to do out of his calculus textbook. His eyes narrowed as he examined the fifty-so problems he had assigned for each day he had been gone. Finally, he turned over the sheet and saw a note, hand-written in pencil so lightly that only Ran could read it.
You will not be given an extension on the homework just because you were gone. This is the same for any other student in the school.
Under that, written so lightly that Ran had trouble reading it, were the words:
I do not believe that you attempted suicide for any reason at all.
His fist clenched tightly, almost tearing holes in the paper. He had tried to kill himself to silence that voice in his head and only Yohji believed him. Had Yohji told the school the real reason for his absence?!
He would have to ask later. For now, Ran pulled his textbook out of his backpack and began doing his homework. It would be a long, late night full of complicated problems, something he was used to and continued to hate.
"Damn you, Crawford," he hissed. "Damn you to Hell and back."