Two Less Crazy People in the World

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Final Chapter

He's going to stop Kuwaku before he claims more victims if it takes blood to do it. Mitsui woke up with that thought hanging like a halo around his head to kick-start the morning. A morbid hangover greeted him then and even now as he squats on this self-same rock he and Sendoh stood on 2 days ago, he can feel a sharp tingle pestering his temples. He wasn't completely able to exorcise the migraine after two aspirins, one heavy breakfast and a good deal of exercise. He massages the sides of his head with his fingers, forming circular movements with them, reversing the steps, then repeat. He wears his usual home-body attire---maroon tee and blue jogging pants—which complements the weather just fine. The sun is at its peak but its rays are blunt enough for anyone to stay under them for hours. The sky's more cloudy than sunny, he reflects. From where he languishes, he can see seagulls glide down to the water and up in the air only to have shells and jellyfishes clipped between their beaks. There really ain't any fish around here, Mitsui sighs. The tides are fine too but don't warrant that they're going to stay so all afternoon. They may, they may not. Either way, nothing's going to stop Mitsui from having a word with Sendoh.

'Hi, you're early.' Sendoh has arrived. He climbs on the rock, dexterously flinging himself up as though he's been doing it all his life.

'Yeah. I've been here this morning, watching the sea and everything.' Mitsui says. The truth is, he just couldn't wait any longer inside his house and envision things from there. He needed to take them a little closer to his place of operation.

'Oh, how was it?'

'Alright. According to my observation they portend good things to happen.'

'Nice.' Sendoh smiles. He puts out something from behind and extends it to Mitsui. 'Here, I stopped by at Hooker's to get you this.'

'A rod? Man, you shouldn't have bothered. How much did you pay for it?' Mitsui says, wrenching his wallet out of his pockets.

'Oh no. Never mind that; I invited you here. It's just natural that I pay for the equipment.'

'You said it.' Mitsui smiles as he buries his wallet back in his pockets.

Sendoh bends down as he prepares to set his things. Mitsui watches him. Fixing the rod is as methodical as algebra; it needs to be presided with care, step by step, requiring the alacrity of a bleeding wound and experienced hands. One missed procedure and you go back to start. It's a challenge to watch out for, after all. But seeing Sendoh do it, Mitsui notes, it seems nothing but easy. He's memorized the process; he can even do it with his eyes closed and half his wits somewhere else.

'I'm just curious; would you feel any better if you catch a fish this time, Sendoh?' Mitsui asks. He's never heard Sendoh whine about catching no fish; he even seems to like the notion of zero catch. Or is he just absent-minded majority of the time? It lures Mitsui to think that he'd show less enthusiasm if he begins catching one, but then things may stop being as they are and Sendoh may not be his dense self anymore…and Mitsui seems averse to the idea. How queer.

'I don't know. Used to be I'd fantasize about all kinds of them, but I just stopped thinking about them and it doesn't seem a problem anymore.'

'Okay, I understand.' Mitsui says. No, that's an unqualified lie. He doesn't understand why Sendoh would force himself on fishing when it's clear as the heavens above that fishing doesn't like him. Not here, during this lifetime or the next. It's the same with why Mitsui himself finds it uncommonly hard to control his temper and hold his horses and basically not ruin everything. Some people just never learn.

'Mmh. Are you going to fish, Hisashi?'

'Not really. Not in the right condition.' He tells Sendoh who returns an understanding nod. 'I'll just watch you.' And realizing the possible meaning of his words, Mitsui rushes to add, 'I mean, I'll just watch you fish. Yeah, that's it.' He finishes with an awkward, semi-apologetic smile.

'Okay.'

Running true to form, Sendoh's bucket lays empty after the minutes accrue to an hour of perseverance. Mitsui loses count of the waves that come splashing against the shores, and of the seagulls that bob their heads in and out of the water. He has measured the drop in the temperature, marked the shift in the wind's direction and the hue of the sky. The world may start ending and the fish won't turn up. This is the life of Sendoh Akira; cyclical, monstrously predictable and plain empty. But not anymore because Mitsui Hisashi is going to put an end to all of this.

'I knew this was going to happen.' Mitsui says. He not only knew, he expected it because quite frankly, there was nothing else to expect. 'I hope the hook didn't get rusty under sea water.'

'Yeah. Maybe it would if I waited longer.' Sendoh gets up and summons the rod from the water. 'So Hisashi, what are we going to do now? The day's nearly ending.'

'I'll take you somewhere, come on.' Mitsui says as he hops off the rock and lands on the knee-deep water.

'Is it a date?' Sendoh says behind him.

Mitsui wheels around. He's into that weird talking again, saying alien things that'd shoo the sanity off any good person's soul. Gosh, I've never felt so un-crazy.

'No, Sendoh.' Mitsui decides to meet Sendoh's query with gentle remonstration. 'I'm afraid it's not. But we're going to go together and that's it.'

'But it's still called a date, isn't it? Two people going together somewhere?' Sendoh knits his brows.

'Two people meaning a girl and a boy. In our case, we're boy and boy so…yeah.' Mitsui says, making no further attempt to explanation. He swings his gaze the other way and moves forward to the shores. He can feel his face suffuse with heat; if he only had a mirror with him he would see how brightly reddish his cheeks are now.

'Oh, right.' Sendoh hurtles after him. 'What's the name of this place we're going? Is it a mall or something?'

'No, I'm gonna take you to someone we're both indebted to. Just wait, Sendoh.'

oooooOOOOOOOOoooooo

'Doctor Kuwaku, are you there!' Mitsui hails from outside as he simultaneously raps his fist against Doctor Kuwaku's door. 'I need to talk to you.'

'Hisashi, maybe this isn't the right time. He's probably tired and needs rest. Let's just go.' Sendoh pleads.

'Back off, Sendoh.' Mitsui says as he brusquely thrusts Sendoh aside. 'I'm going to do all the talking and after that I'll give him the bloody rest his body needs alright. Once he opens this goddamn do—'

As if in concession the door swings open, revealing behind it the lanky and fresh-from-nap figure of the doctor whose otherwise comically bespectacled eyes seem to swell. 'Yes, Mitsui-san?'

'I'm sure you don't have any patient coming so I'm going inside. I have something important to say to you.' Mitsui steps in even before Kuwaku gets to invite him.

Kuwaku rubs his eyes. Without his glasses, everything to him is an impermeable blur. His planed forehead is sheltered by his tousled bangs; his un-ironed polo shirt is tucked out, his hair uncombed and un-oiled, all of which seem to say it's a bad time for a meeting.

'You look better without glasses by the way.' Mitsui smirks. 'Anyway I have a friend in tow; let me introduce you to him. Or make that let me reintroduce you to him. Say hi to your old mate, Kuwaku.' He continues and gestures his head to Sendoh who stands by the doorway, seemingly exulting at the sight of the doctor who rid him of his chronic malaise.

Kuwaku frowns at Sendoh; he can't see very much with his mole-eyes. It's only when Sendoh speaks out his name that Kuwaku learns who it is.

'It's good to see you again, Sendoh-san. How are you doing?'

'He's doing okey-dokey. Fine enough to make you pay dearly.' Mitsui answers for Sendoh. He beckons to Sendoh to follow him. 'We're going to take our seats, Doctor Kuwaku—Oh, why am I giving you a flattering title for? I'm as much a doctor as you are.' Mitsui sneers as he slouches on the sofa.

'What is the meaning of this debauchery?' The doctor barks. He darts his way to his desk and opens the drawer where he hides his glasses.

'I just checked out the list of registered doctors in this area.' Mitsui says in a triumphant air. Sendoh looks at him with befuddled eyes.

'And what, pray tell, did you learn?'

'That out of the 236 of them, your name doesn't come out. Say, funny excuse for a typographical error.' Mitsui says and begins to laugh like a madman.

'I'm sure you just omitted my name. It's there somewhere—'

'On the merchandisers' list. I checked that out too and know what I found out? I'm not going to thrill you any longer; I learned that you're the owner of Hooker's. I even called the place and looked for you but you weren't in. Thanks to you I discovered how useful the directory is.'

All this time, Sendoh traps his gaze on Kuwaku. Kuwaku's face is visibly strained, as if he were going to gasp for air any second and a half or going to piss; there's a twitchy bulk on his throat that Sendoh is sure isn't his Adam's apple, and his face is blanketed with a dark red color that reminds him of a Californian grape. Sendoh transfers his gaze to Mitsui whose very soundness is dissolving within him, and he can almost see the thoughts running on it, none of them pretty. If he could kill Kuwaku with that icy glare, he would.

'What a lousy way to advertise your lousy shop.' Mitsui says, remembering how brittle the rod he bought was. 'Going over the difficulty of impersonating a therapist. You always want an easy game to play, don't you? That's why you chose two innocent school boys to be your victims. Honestly, your imagination is zero, or even negative. Don't get me wrong, I'm not here to criticize your way of doing things; I'm here to blast your bad ass and your malpractice. You're going behind bars for this.' Mitsui goes on in a burst of feverish passion Sendoh hasn't seen before. He ends his speech, stripped of energy and further invectives to hurl.

'If I have known better, Mitsui, you had fun.' Kuwaku finally says. His eyes bounce from Mitsui to Sendoh and then back to Mitsui. Mitsui knows full well what he means by that look. The pervert.

'You crazy turd!' Mitsui shrieks before discretion gets at him. 'You're dead, you know, so stop being an impudent dick.'

'Why, I may be the conman you make me to be but didn't I do just enough to cure him?' Kuwaku points at Sendoh who's been looking so passive until now. 'Tell me boy; didn't I make you feel better?'

'Yeah, he's no longer depressed because he's been fucking besotted. Weren't you, Sendoh?' Mitsui chides in again, leaving no room for Sendoh to answer.

Sendoh purses his lips before giving Kuwaku a laconic nod. He slowly looks at Kuwaku and then at Mitsui. 'Well yes, actually. After I've been told to fish, I felt less and less lonely.'

'Sendoh, What are you talking about? This lunatic asked you to go fishing during your manic-depressive lapse. You could've committed suicide then and drowned and…' I would've never met you. 'That's just the sort of injustice I can't forgive.'

'But I didn't and I'm better.' Sendoh protests mildly.

'You see?' Kuwaku's eyes brighten as he faces Mitsui once again. 'I changed him. And I changed you. Even now I can tell you made a huge leap; you no longer throw things around (I heard you did a pretty good job of breaking stuff at Kawamura's office), you're no longer grumpy either. And…and you've made a friend. That means you're fairly okay now.'

'You're wrong. You…I—No, it can't be.'

Mitsui gives himself a moment to breathe; speechlessness, just the state in which he feels most threatened. But true, not once this day has he thrown a fit, not even when he just burned holes on the rock watching Sendoh fish and catch nothing. He didn't even entertain the thought of wreaking anything scandalous there whereas before he wouldn't outlast a minute of sitting serenely, trying to fixate himself under one square inch of space and behaving like a good boy who's so captivated by the picturesque view of the azure ocean. He breathes again, remembering how he sedately stood by Sendoh. He just sat, watched quietly, or even whistled along with the winds. Strange though as it is, but he felt relaxed then. Just like Sendoh.

'Let's not argue over this, boy. I did my best to help you, the best I know how at least.'

'Oh, quit yammering about the 'good things' you thought you did. You couldn't give me anything but your eerie looks and retarded questions.'

'But that's what they do in the movies.'

'Hahahaha! A degree in Psychology out of the movies. I've never heard of that before. Hahahaha!' Mitsui guffaws.

'Mitsui-san, you must understand. You can't close me down. I need a side-line, you know.' Kuwaku says in a voice that's almost squeaky from nervousness.

'Tell that to my expired conscience, you sick sonuvabitch!'

'But he's right, Hisashi. You've healed.' Now that's a different voice. It's Sendoh, and he's smiling. This is the first time he takes part in the exchange without being asked. 'You really are. I didn't even know you used to have problems.'

'I had more of them than you can imagine. And this bastard here who was supposed to help me, who was supposed to convey my sanity back to me, just about screwed it all up.' Mitsui seethes as he makes popping sounds with his knuckles.

'Come on, lad. Listen to your friend. You're a ton better for chrissake. Tell me, how many plates did you blow up to ashes last night?'

'That's none of your business.'

'Hisashi, answer him.' Sendoh begs.

'Well, uh, I was too tired to do anything then.'

'So you didn't break anything?' Kuwaku asks.

'No.'

'And do you think you'd want to break anything else again?'

'No.'

'Well, in that regard you're cured! I am pleased to apprise you that I release you from my care.' Kuwaku gives him a smile.

'What? If you think—'

'Hisashi, get a grip. It's alright. There's no point insisting you're still insane.' Sendoh tells him. 'No need to feign anger anymore. Everything's good and done.'

'Done!'

'Yes. I mean, well, I think so.' Sendoh glances at Mitsui. 'I'm just glad he made you fish because otherwise I wouldn't have met you.'

None of them dares move a muscle. It seems like the hands of clock halt dead along with everything else; but time stretches to eternity and the silence extends in slow motion, or so it looks like. Mitsui's eyes become pensive like he's looking at something neither Sendoh nor Kuwaku can see. He lets his shoulders fall, knowing it's time to set aside his rants because, clearly, he doesn't and won't need them anymore. Sendoh touches his arm and without saying a word, he leads Mitsui, who has suddenly seemed to turn inanimate, out of Kuwaku's office.

'Trot along now, boys. And before I forget; you two look good together.' Kuwaku tells them and locks his door.

Mitsui salvages his breath and walks away with Sendoh. However rendered mute and frozen, deep down, quite indiscernibly, he's thinking of the same thing. Something inside him comes apart then, that solid something that used to devour him alive like cancer and send him venting his anger on things that had nothing to do with it at all. It's gone now to the other end of the world, and so are his collected worries; the fuming and the bombing and the blood-sizzling. And he no longer thinks he'd mind it if Sendoh says those odd things again. He's a weird kid, alright, but the kind of 'weird' that Mitsui understands and possibly likes. Perhaps, that's all that counts.

'Did you really look his name up at the municipal's office?' Sendoh turns to Mitsui.

'Nah, I just made that up.'

'Wow, you sure are gutsy.'

'I just don't know how to be anything else, that's why.'

Three wacky meetings with a fake doctor and he's healed, in a funny kind of way. That's pretty difficult to believe. They stop before the pedestrian lane as the traffic light shines green for the motorists.

'Will you still go fishing after this?' Sendoh asks.

'No. What for? There's no fish there. I'd sooner chase bicycles on foot.'

He stares at Sendoh who droops his head as fast as Mitsui can take a peep at his otherwise happy face. He looks like he's going to be sick, like Mitsui just poked his heart with needles. All the guy wants is company and it hurts to see how little he gets of it. Mitsui smiles and decides to shear away the pretense of catching fish and using rods and buckets and hooks and worms.

'However, I will be going there every other day. Maybe I should try catching crabs instead of fish. Would you like to go too?'

'Yes! I would love to.' Sendoh smiles. For once he looks genuinely happy.

'Let's just use nets next time. I hear they're good to use on crabs.'

'Yeah. I could get some from Hooker's.'

They reach the intersection. Mitsui has to take north and Sendoh south. The sun has sunk down minutes ago to be replaced by a silver crescent moon and stars that shower the sky like immotile fireflies. It's the time of the day when stray cats moan their mating call and jump on aluminum trash cans in their flirty, adventurous courtship. Mitsui and Sendoh laugh.

'I'll see you come the day after tomorrow, Akira. I mean, Sendoh.'

'It's okay; I like to be called Akira.'

'Right. Goodbye.'

'Goodbye.'

Mitsui has walked a few paces when he remembers something.

'Hey, Akira!'

'What?'

'If you feel like making friendly phone calls, you can always dial my number. It really makes me sad that you'd torture yourself with a conversation with Rukawa or Sakuragi, you know.'

'Oh, sure. I'll do that.' Sendoh replies. Despite being dimmed by the darkness, Mitsui can tell that Sendoh's face breaks into its usual, perpetually sparkling smile. 'Goodnight.' Sendoh says and peels away.

Mitsui follows Sendoh with his gaze until the latter's spiky-haired form dwindles and becomes enmeshed in the shadows. Once alone, Mitsui begins to hum with the dancing branches of the trees.

END

A/N: Oh my God, I ended it! Shucks, this sure wore me down. It's so effing long. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I more than appreciate it.