Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own PetShop of Horrors. The rights are Akino-sensei's and all the companies that share a part. I merely can claim my writing style, if even that.
Author's Notes: Fairly melancholy piece, but I love it still. Setting is at the end of the tenth volume, as Leon lies in that state of nonwaking dream, and D contemplates his life, his future, and his past, and the choices he is, has, and will make.
Have you forgotten, I wonder?
"No, Grandfather, I haven't forgotten." Mismatched eyes, one burning amber, the other cool amethyst, gleamed as jewels in the half-light of the pet shop, their expression utterly inscrutable. A soft sigh escaped my crimson lips, perfect coal-black eyebrows creasing in faintly sad, troubled thought. Too-pale skin appeared to almost glow with an ethereal air, fine, silken strands of raven hair falling to a beautifully tapered chin. One delicate finger brushed a long nail over my mouth, the lips pulled into a thoughtful, noncommittal line. Visions of blood and slaughter and death coursed through my mind, and I let out a soft, silent sigh.
Humans are everything I am not. How fleeting their lives are, how shallow their understanding of what surrounds them and supports them… They kill, they destroy, and they consistently deny. And yet…
The deceptively delicate, otherworldly gaze drew away from the horizon to stare down at my hands, marveling still at the phantom feel of human warmth and tiny, chubby fingers lingering in my palm. How strange it had been, that time in Los Angeles... I had been so many places, had repeated the same things so many times over, had avenged my ancestors and the billions of forgotten species massacred by human hand… and yet, I had never cared so much for any of them. Through teaching and genetics, I knew that humans were to be hated; to be scorned, to be punished for their foolishness. Not even the young ones were to be spared the kami's revenge…
Count? Are you okay?
Innocent, bright ocean-blue eyes tearing into my mind, spinning my soul into confusion yet again. That chubby little face, looking up at me with pure adoration and absolute trust, never knowing that I had been sworn by birth to destroy all that the boy would know. My hands, running through the child's golden hair, so very like his brother's…
Leon.
An incomparable sadness, an everlasting ache, the pain of memory that would never leave… Those long fingers curled into a fist, beautiful eyes closing with the force of the emotion running through me, the sense of inevitablity. I had known, had always known, that I should not have gotten so attached to the human. The brash, rude young detective was not one of my pets; I should not have been so worried for him, so concerned with his welfare… And yet…
And yet… I cannot help it. I have not forgotten, Grandfather. I have not. I cannot. But I still wish…
It had been Leon who had given my father that fatal wound. Father: sadistic though he might have been, he had held long ago the hope that I myself held now. Even now, that final memory rested upon my shoulders; the sight of Father, drenched in his own blood, sticky and warm and oh so terribly sad. I had been so shocked, so angry, so betrayed… My father, who had attempted to steal Leon's life to bring me back into the fold, of the tradition of hatred passed down by our ancestors… and, when that hadn't worked, used himself as a last resort.
How ironic it was that, in the end, Leon had acted with not human concern but basic animal survival instinct? My eyes closed fiercely, lips and cheeks tightening with the strength of the repression.
I would that I could hate you, Father. Oh, I wish that I could. How dare you! Sofu warned me so many, so many times… I should not have cared so deeply, should not have allowed myself to falter… but I was so lonely. Even with the animals, my wonderful animals, I was always so lonely. In me, all Father and Grandfather saw was the continuation of our duty, our heritage, our revenge. To the animals, I was protector and master. I am protector and master. In the eyes of the humans who have come and gone, I have been divinity; charming and ethereal, a creature so beyond them as to be revered or feared, perhaps both. None, not even my most beloveds, my Tet-chan, my Pon-chan, my Ten-chan, could see beyond.
"Revenge is such a stressful business."
I had said that, yes, and my father had said it had taken its toll. Perhaps. Always perhaps…always maybe, always enigma and illusion and mist. I have no identity. I am my Father, and my Grandfather, and every ancestor who has passed on before. I am revenge. I am deity. I am spirit and divinity and god.
…but there is no me.
…and there you lie, your broad, sun-tanned and scar-flecked chest bare and rising in the steady rhythm of your peaceful breaths. That hair of yours, golden and wild, falling unbound about your strong, sleeping face and neck. Those blue eyes, one moment as clear as the sky and the next as stormy as the sea, closed with neither anger nor suspicion, unclouded by the pain that will undoubtedly strike you upon your return to the waking, mortal world. Even now, if I stretch out these long hands of mine, with my dainty fingernails, as you had called them, I could touch you. Part of me wants to; wants to feel the texture of your skin, to run my hands along your arms and unshaven jaw, to imprint forever the memory of the contours of your cheeks, your lips, your nose and eyes on my mind with the touch of my fingertip. But yet, I know I cannot. With what power I could give, I have helped you here. By virtue of your sheer stubbornness alone, you should now live. Never in all my years have I met such a man as you, and I doubt that in the course of however many years will follow I ever shall again. You, my dear detective, were the first to see beyond the smoke and the mirror, to see me not as protector (though I cannot deny that I have acted in such a capacity before, without your knowledge) or as master, or as tool, or as hope, or as divinity. In you, I found myself. In you, I existed. I was not merely my duty. I found within myself the capacity I had so often marveled at in mortals. I was angry, I was trivial, I was almost carefree and happy. I was not a deity. I was not simply a D, I was D. With you, with Chris, my name was not a title, but a name.
And now I have traversed the spectrum. I have known the fleeting happiness of humans, during my time with you. I have now known the notion of impulse, of personality beneath the mask, of identity. And now I know sadness. I have wept before, my heart cleaved in two by another species walking away and never looking back. Never turning around to see that I mirror its anguish, feel its betrayal and torment so deeply within my soul as if it were my own...
But this pain is my own. Now I am the one who must walk away, must not look back. Will you forget me, my detective? Will you forget what little time, mere grains within an infinite hourglass, we spent together? Will you go on with your life, and leave, too, without looking back? Will you walk away from me, forever, as I must now walk away from you?
I cannot change what I am, Leon. I am more than myself. And, yet, I am not even myself. I am the whisper, I am the shadow, I am the unseen presence that tickles the hair on the back of your neck. I am my ancestors. I am beauty, I am death. I am the artist painting a canvas you will always see, but never know. I am judgement. I am immortal. I am reason. I cannot stay.
And, so are you as you are. You are crass, you are rude, you are uncultured and often boorish. But you are heart. You are loyalty and blatant, unrelenting honesty. You are courage. You are naïve. You are protector, and yet protected. You are mortal. You are emotion. You cannot stay.
There. You stir. I must pull myself away, retreat within that porcelain mask that fools you no more. In this world that is more dream than reality, you see things as they are. You see me. I see it in your eyes, those beautiful eyes, that sweep over me with confusion and customary hostility. I smirk, that equally customary turning of one corner of my lips, my mismatched eyes meeting yours beneath the heavy lids. You glare. How honest you are; in every expression, in every movement, I know exactly what you think and how you feel. You are certainty. I am all that could be and that couldn't be. I am formless. I am adrift.
You pull yourself over the bow of the ship, and I feel the slight vibration coursing through the wood as your dreadful sneakers carry your weight to the floor. I watch as you realize that everything you have suspected, as well as more than you could ever have anticipated, meets your inquistive gaze. Finally you see things as they have always been, unclouded by your self-serving rationality. But of course. To you, this will be a dream. All of it will be but a dream. And yet, I cannot help but show you. Yes, Leon, there is so much more, so much more than you could ever imagine to the world you think you know. I hear the accusation in your tone and feel it in your presence as you turn to look at me, and then it is just as quickly gone. You have always had a remarkable ability to adapt.
"Well, Count, where we going?"
And then I'm not looking at you. If I was, perhaps I would not be able to stand so composedly. Perhaps I might falter again. And so, I merely tilt my head, the dark strands of my hair concealing perfectly whatever expression I might have been tempted to craft. You cannot see my eyes soften. It is just as well.
"Anywhere," I respond, my voice that lilting mix of riddle and truth that always seemed to nerve you so, "We are able to move freely, without regard for the borders humans have drawn."
More truth, then, than riddle. Even now, will I be able to let go so easily? I must, however. For your sake and for mine. And then I turn, and there you are. You're right in front of me, that masculine scent that is yours and yours alone teasing my senses, my expression unable to hide the gentleness that affection brings. My hands, my fingers, now finally touching that firm chest, resting ever so lightly against your bare skin. How warm you are…
"But your journey ends here." As well it should. My world is not yours. You have touched me, it is true, but we cannot change our circumstances. You are human, and the world of the humans is yours. You should find your peace with your kind. Marriage, a family if you so desire. Though I might like it, I cannot keep you with me. Humans are still my enemies. You are not my pet. No, you are more. You are my friend, the first I can say I have ever truly had. You did not revere me, did not worship or admire or fear me, you were not besotted by me or requiring of me. You simply were. I simply was. Together we existed. But no more. You are more dear to me than any mortal I have known. You cared without knowing why. You cared without so much as caring why. You saw me, when even I could not. And now, you are free.
"What?"
You are confused. That is to be expected. In time, Leon, you will realize, and you will understand. Or you will remember this as a dream. But even if that should be the case, I will remember. Eternity is mine, and with it its sorrows and joys. I shall remember. You, I will never forget. What you taught me, and, what I hopefully taught you, shall never fade from my mind.
"Humans have not earned the right to board this ship. Not yet."
No, my dear Leon, not even you. This is a ship of immortal stature. In it is everything that I have been, that my ancestors have been, that my descendants shall be. It is everything that humans have long ago forgotten. Perhaps, in time, they will remember again. With the aching in my heart, I can feel the stinging warmth in my eyes. Unbidden, unwished, that single tear poured from my eye, wet and warm and so unbearably cold and final all at once. Yes, even I can cry. I am crying, Leon. I am crying for you, and I am crying for me, and I am crying for everything that cannot be. Do you see it? Do you understand? And then the pressure within me intensifies, and my gentle touch against your firm chest becomes a push. Still smiling, oh so sadly smiling, I pushed you away from me. I watched you fall, your eyes wide and confused and betrayed. No doubt you will be angry, but it cannot be helped. And then I'm at the edge, my fingers curling around the wood, still watching. I will always be watching…
When you hear a whisper of nature's song, feel the gentle caress of an unseen fragrance, grasp your hands at a shadow just beyond your reach, you will know, if only in your dreams. Though I try, I cannot simply walk away. You have changed me, and the consequences of that change will always linger. When I could no longer see you, I reached my hand into the sleeve of my cheongsam. A moment later, I pulled free an expanse of black cloth, washed and mended by my own hands. Perhaps I should not be so sentimental, but I could not help myself in the taking of this one small memento of a life gone from mine forever. Letting the sounds of the animals behind me fade away, I closed my eyes, lifting your shirt to my face and inhaling the smell, heavily perfumed by detergent but your unmistakable scent still wafting through. I pull the shirt down, and hold it to my chest, wrapping my arms around the memory.
How long is eternity? They say that the time it would take for an eagle to move one grain of sand at a time from the Earth to the moon would barely scratch its surface. You will not know eternity, my dear detective, but I shall know it for you. I shall live with my memories and my hopes, and the pain that will never fade. Time for humans is fleeting, Leon. Make the best of yours. Find your peace, find your happiness. Live not for the clock, but be aware. Tick, tock, my dear one, tick, tick, tock.
"Have you forgotten?"
"No, Grandfather, I have not forgotten," the words, such as they were, were my oath as I looked up to the heavens, Leon's black t-shirt still held against my chest.
"I will never forget."
fin