Impersonator Waltz

Chapter Five

Red Rose's Hypnosis

'Oh!' Tohru's eyes widened happily. She clasped her hands in front of her, beaming. 'You're done already? That was fast!'

Yuki clicked the door closed behind him calmly. Kyo growled as his shirt became caught.

'No, not done,' Yuki replied, smiling. He became suddenly very conscious of the piece of paper in his hand. 'But we'll get it done!' he added, seeing Tohru's face fall. 'Don't worry. We'll have that place clean before Shigure and Ayame come back.'

'Reminds me,' Kyo half-growled, tugging free his shirt violently. 'We need to go talk to that basta –'

Yuki slammed his hand over Kyo's mouth, half-knocking him out. Tohru squeaked, eyes widening impossibly.

'What he means is, err, we need to have a fight. Yes. It's been a long time since we've had a fight. As a matter of fact, we'll have one right now, won't we, Kyo?'

Kyo bit Yuki's hand as a reply and wrenched out of his grasp. He stormed outside, muttering about 'girly boys' telling him what to do. Yuki quickly wiped his hand, ignoring the sting.

'Is – is Kyo all right?' Tohru said, brow furrowing with worry. Yuki smiled, or grimaced, still wiping.

'He's fine. Don't worry. Just relax for today,all right?You shouldn't tire yourself out all the time.' He smiled again as he passed her and said over his shoulder, 'No housework until we come back! That's a promise!'

Tohru waved at him until she couldn't see him anymore. The smile on her face dropped as soon as she couldn't. Something wasn't right in this household.

The dead leaves giggled under their feet, their laughter tiny imitations of an insane child's. The sky above was not as clear as it had been for the passed few days. There were sinister clouds, stolen, decayed imaginations of children long dead. The air licking at their skin resembled a newborn child's presence; light, fresh, but tainted with sin.

Shigure and Ayame walked together, side by side, heart by heart, in silence.

'Do you remember,' Ayame said quietly, eyes misty, 'when that girl asked you to dance with her in that high school function?'

Shigure fiddled with his pen, one that stayed in his pocket wherever he went. Ayame's words made surface vague pictures in his head, like a hand would surface a dead body from water. Faces of people he would rather forget swam eerily into view, visages oddly misted by water that will not evaporate. It made him shiver, thinking of how a portion of a past he could not fully remember have such a powerful effect on him. He waved it away with thoughts of now. A sad smile sketched itself at the corner of his lips, ghost-like, forced.

'Mizumi Ito?'

'Yes! Yes, that's her.' Ayame tucked stray hair behind his ear, thinking. 'Do you remember what you did that made her cry?' He was chuckling, attempting to wrench their bodies from the real world and into his own. Shigure could see right through his feeble attempt; he could see the stains on Ayame's soul, things he hated, things he loved, people he hated, and a person he loves.

'I didn't make her cry,' Shigure played back defensively, chuckling a transparent chuckle himself. He felt like his body was being dipped back into high-school while his spirit boiled in the underworld. 'She asked me to dance, and I told her I didn't know how to. Nothing wrong with that. Sensitive girl, she was. Pretty, yes, but too sensitive.'

Ayame laughed, only a little bit of it being restrained by invisible holds. Shigure thought that lying everyday would be worth hearing that laugh, even though it could hurt and kill him, and even though it was not real. Well, because sometimes it's nice to live in a world that lied to you and made you feel so beautiful and important, instead of being held in one that grated the truth against your heart over and over with rusted metals, day after day with deformed fingers.

'You stood there staring at her and then called her ugly!' Ayame nudged him softly, smiling an open smile. Shigure nudged back, grinning. He ignored a gnawing voice at the back of his mind. The moment was to be lived.

The leaves swirled into a taunting face by their feet and dispersed. Neither saw it.

'That got her away, didn't it?'

'No, it didn't!' Ayame glanced at Shigure, smiling widely. 'She asked you a second time and then she went away because of what you did after that!'

'What did I do after that?' Feigning innocence. Plastic world. Plastic heart.

Ayame looked at him, eyes shining, like colored crystals lacquered with faint rays of the sun. Shigure thought for the millionth time in his mind that there could be no one else more beautiful than his Ayame. He pouted gracelessly and swept hair from his eyes.

'You asked me to dance, Shigure!' Ayame tilted back his head, smiling and gazing at the sun. The reflection of sky was mirrored in his eyes, therefore holding the world. He looked back at Shigure, missing how his smile drooped ever so slowly. 'Poor Mizumi-chan ran to the bathroom howling about how you chose your cousin over someone who loved you with all her heart.' Crystal laughter. Hands threading through silver. Eyes beautiful, taunting, friendly, accusing.

Something within Shigure broke in half and fell through the unending abyss of his excuse for a soul. He stopped walking and clutched his sides, feeling a haunted wind billow through his body. His mouth formed an ugly snarl. The force whirled prettily in his mind like a spiral of glitters and gore, twinkling confetti mixing with decaying veins. He almost fell to his knees had Ayame not caught him in his arms, happiness killed by a glass dagger.

'Shigure!'

Ballerina figurines danced beneath his eyelids in a routine of death and love, spinning, spinning. A voice accosted him from an angry distance, echoing and echoing, like it was being screamed at him through a sheet of tears, the tears of a man who has no eyes. His head was cracking and his mind was melting into blood and everything, everything was –

'Shigure! Shigure, answer me!'

Hands reached for him, skin flayed, fingers inside out, veins bared, blood dripping. Long faces howled, rips in the skin leaking out nothing but smoke. A pain somewhere where his heart should be stabbed through his skin, having enough of the caged feeling it has lived with for so long. An angry mouth curled into an ugliness almost scalding to the touch.

Shigure whispered meekly, shamefully, desperately:

'Ayame …'

'What? What is it? Should I get Ha – Hato – ?' Wanting to be strong. Still wading in hurt.

Shigure cringed and convulsed. Ayame couldn't even say his name.

'Ayame, I'm sorry …'

His eyes rolled, the merry-go-round too fast for him to keep up.

'Shigure!'

The world did a perfect pirouette, and went black.

'Why did we go out here in the first place if you didn't know where they were?'

'Please be quiet.'

'I mean, it's like jumping into a puddle that you know is full of shit but you jumped in it anyway 'cause you're so damn stupid to think!'

'Actually, go on. You're embarrassing yourself.'

'Argh, I don't want to be here with you, you know that?' He snatched the paper from Yuki's hands. 'See, it doesn't even look like Hatori's handwriting.' He waved it in the air and in Yuki's face. 'It's just some sick son-of-a-bitch who finds it funny to screw with your stupid brother's head.' He grumbled and threw it back at Yuki. 'I don't know why anyone would bother, though. That idiot's head is too screwed up to be screwed with anymore.'

Yuki sighed. When will Kyo grow up? Although the idiot did have a point …

'I'm not the one who said we should go this way, you stupid – Shigure!'

'No, moron. It's Kyo.'

Yuki looked at the Cat wildly, wanting nothing more than to slap his head off. But childhood games did not fit in with illnesses and adult tricks. Grabbing Kyo's shirt, he bolted.

By the time they got there, Shigure had already slumped forward, limp in Ayame's arms.

Ring. Ring. Ri –

Gasp. Slam of the phone. Tense. Tense. Heavy. Exhale. Shaking.

Dial.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Fingers crumpling the telephone cord. Chewing her lips.

'Hello, this is Hatori –'

'Hatori! Hatori, I need to speak with you –'

'— Sohma. I'm with business at the moment. Please leave your message and I shall arrange an appointment with you as soon as possible. Thank you.'

The beep rang in Tohru's ears like a poison chime, leaking lethal fog. Her eyes misted over, sorrowful liquid crystal gathering at her tear ducts. She dropped the phone, its sound disturbing the starving dead underneath. Before she could think, she ran to the nearest place where she could find the answer on what to do when reality abused her: Rin's.

.end goes chappie five.

EC-note: soap opera GASP What does Tohru know? Why Rin? Why did Shiggy faint? Why does Ha'ri have a voice messaging bank? Oh, the queeeeestions. Heh.

I know some bits are confusing. It confuses me sometimes too when I don't think everything thoroughly. Just keep this in mind: I don't put things in a chapter, not a single word, that will not add to the sum of the story. I might, though, put a few sentences of dialogue just to amuse me after a hard day. Hah, so, type you next chapter.