A Note From Sedjet: I know, I know! I am going to fanfiction author hell. I have been having the worst bout of writer's block in the history of writer's block! It's ridiculous. Anyhoo, here is a new chappie for you. It's the best I can offer at the moment. P.S. I didn't write "One Song Glory." The lyrics were written by Jonathan Larson….This is another revision!
Rent
Chapter Two:
Glory
Kenshin could hear Soujiro talking to himself out in the hallway. The petite redhead wondered what the hell he could possibly be up to. It was the "documentary" he was working on. Kenshin became angry. He resented being the subject of another one of Soujiro's little projects. Soujiro had the idea that Kenshin needed to be saved from himself; however, Kenshin was under the impression that it was Soujiro with the problems.
"I really worry about that man sometimes," Kenshin muttered to himself as he swung his sakabatou in a graceful arc. "Honestly, where the fuck does he get off shoving that camera in my face. Snide little bastard! I'm gonna break the fuckin' thing!" He growled as his movements became more aggressive.
There had been a time when Kenshin was happy. Tomoe, he thought. She had meant the world to him, and he mourned her everyday since she died. As his thoughts drifted to her, his movements slowed. Finally, he let the sword drop to the floor with a dull thud. What was he doing playing with a sword when he should be writing a song?!
He went for his guitar. He picked it up off the stand and gazed at it. The guitar had been a gift from Tomoe. He used to write songs for her and play them for her. She was his inspiration. He caressed the slick, blood-red surface. Red. Like her blood on the floor. Suddenly, he felt like smashing it to bits. He wanted to splinter the piece of shit as he had hundreds—thousands!—of times during the past two years. He never followed through with the impulse, though. Deep down he knew that he would mourn the loss of his only piece of her nearly as much as he mourned the loss of the woman herself.
He laid the guitar across the arms of the overstuffed chair in the middle of the room and bent to pick up his amp cord. He plugged the cord into the guitar and then the amp and picked the guitar up. He sat on the ottoman in front of the chair and plucked at the strings to see how out of tune he was. Deciding that it wasn't bad enough, he began to play a song from one of Tomoe's favorite musicals.
One song//Glory//One song before I go//Glory//One song to leave behind//Find one song//One last refrain//Glory//From the pretty boy front man//Who wasted opportunity//One song//He had the world at his feet//Glory//In the eyes of a young girl//A young girl//
Kenshin closed his eyes and thought of a beautiful young woman with raven hair and chocolate colored eyes. She had made him camp out for tickets to Rent just so she could see Adam Pascal in tight leather pants and cream when he opened his mouth to sing.
***
In the apartment below, a young, raven-haired girl closed her sapphire blue eyes, listening to the passionate song that was filtering down through the ceiling of her apartment. The singer's voice was deep and husky. It had a quality to it that sent shivers up her spine. The voice called to her. It called to something deep inside of her, and she lay on her futon, wrapped in a blanket and allowed the song to seep into her soul.
***
Find glory//Beyond
the cheap colored lights//One song before the sun sets//
Glory -- on another empty life//Time flies -- time dies//Glory -- One blaze of
glory
One blaze of glory – glory
People die—the people you cherish more than anything. And you
die. But you die slowly. You can't do what she did. You can't build up the courage. You've tried.
Oh, you've tried a hundred times.
***
The voice swelled until she thought the foundations of the building would begin to shakes and the window panes rattle. With the next verse, the voice became softer, contemplative. It carried a heart-breaking quality that made her want to reach out and console this person.
***
Find//Glory//In a song that rings true//Truth like a blazing fire//An
eternal flame
Find//One song//A song about love//Glory//From the soul of a young man
A young man//
Useless. Powerless. Desperation. Desolation. Hopelessness. Separation. Isolation. Pain. Hurt. Anger. Fear. Fury. Hate. Need. Want. Alone.
Find the one
song//Before the virus takes hold//Glory//Like a sunset//One song
To redeem this empty life//Time flies//And then - no
need to endure anymore//
Time dies//
***
Raw pain and anger was evident in the voice from upstairs. She wanted more than anything to reach out and offer some sort of comfort for that voice. There was a desperation to it that made her heart ache. She wondered what it was that made him sing with such passion. Surely a person couldn't sing a like that without knowing—without having been through something similar. She vaguely wondered if he was an actor venting about something through his music. Musical theatre types were known for that kind of thing. She had lived in The City long enough to know that.
***
As he sang, images of Tomoe singing along to the "Rent" soundtrack at the top of her lungs sprang to mind; her enigmatic actress' eyes full of a strange glint, like she knew something you didn't; Tomoe at one of his gigs, watching him from a place at the front of the stage with those eyes that were full of devotion and admiration; Tomoe full of life and love; Tomoe, pale, drained of her life's blood—the same blood that filled the bathtub he had found her in.
By the end of the song, Kenshin was no longer trying to keep his tears in check. He missed her! He missed singing this song for her when she would request it, claiming that he was much hotter than Adam Pascal. He hated her for leaving him like she did. She left him alone to die. He hated her for being so fucking selfish. Sometimes, he wished he could resurrect her if only to kill her with his own hands for not thinking about how he would be able to survive without her.
His hands flew to the strings of his guitar, punishing it in her place. He played the most discordant, violent riff he could manage—and then, the lights went off.
***
Just as the voice upstairs brought the song to a close, the lights went out.
"Shit." The girl muttered.
***
"Fuck!" Kenshin got up and laid the guitar on the ottoman. He needed some sort of light. He would be goddamned if he was going to sit in darkness until the lights decided to come back on. "Damned, fucking snowstorms!" He growled as he went on a hunt for candles.
Twenty minutes later, he had gathered every candle in the apartment and was lighting them with a book of matches he had found in the pocket of his leather coat. He had burned himself three times already and was swearing over the fourth when someone knocked on the door. He huffed, thinking it was Soujiro who had most likely forgotten something important—like the key to the apartment. He strode to the door, pulling it open.
***
Kaoru Kamiya lay in the dark for twenty minutes thinking about the guy upstairs and his amazing voice. He had been quiet since the power blew, and she was worried. She began to wonder if, after a song like that, whether or not he was the cause of the power outage. She debated with herself whether or not to venture upstairs and check on him. If he had offed himself in some bizarre and gruesome way, did she really want to find out? But what if he was just lonely and needed someone to talk to. She would hate to leave him sitting alone in the cold and dark. She finally made up her mind that she would go upstairs to check on her mystery man. She hoped that, for all this trouble, he was at least a hottie.
***
"What'd you forget?" He was all set to see Soujiro standing on the other side of the threshold, but the sight that greeted him was much more pleasant.
"Umm. Hi. I heard you earlier and then the lights went out, so I thought I would come check on you."
The girl was tiny, even for his standards. She was pale with glossy black hair that hung to her waist. She was wearing a short kilt-style camo skirt with chunky black boots, fishnets and a tight shirt that said "Bootcamp Reject" across the bust. She also wore a dominant bondage collar around her neck. She couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, but she looked strangely familiar—only, he couldn't place her.
"Do I know you?" he finally asked after staring at her for a while.
She shrugged, grinned brightly, "Everybody asks me that. I suppose I just have one of those familiar faces. But seriously, are you alright?"
He just stood there, trying to figure out how he knew her. She reminded him of her. The realization struck hard and a couple of tears escaped from the corners of his eyes and made a slow trek down his cheeks. That smile. The way the girl sparkled. It was just like Tomoe. This girl was full of life—so young and beautiful.
Her grin melted into a look of intense concern, "You've been crying," she murmured, placing a delicate hand on his forearm. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
He laughed harshly at the irony of her statement and shied away from her touch. He just continued to stare at her until she started to squirm. "I'm fine," he muttered.
She reached out to brush the tears from his cheeks, "You don't seem fine. Would you like someone to talk to?" She asked softly with a smile just as soft and sweet, "I'm a good listener."
When she touched him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. What kind of person just touches someone she doesn't even know?! Not to mention that brushing away a person's tears is an extremely intimate action. Kenshin just stared at her, hoping she would go away.