It depresses me that I get more readers for my Dragon Drive fics than my SDK ones…
On a lighter note, my Hotaru cosplay is finished! Well, I still have to deal with the issue of props…but I'm mostly done. The actual costume is done. I have pics up on Deviantart; check it out!
Anyway, on to Chapter 3, which I'm sure you care about far more than my ranting.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Samurai Deeper Kyo or any characters therein, including the amazing bishieness that is Hotaru and Akira.
Warning: It is, as it has always been, shounen-ai. It's not really yaoi yet. It might be going there…no way to know yet.
Chapter 3
Hotaru slept through the rest of the day and that night. Akira slept for only about three hours, and on the floor, uncomfortable being too close to the sleeping fire-caster. His confusion persisted; he didn't know his own mind anymore.
Two days—more like one, really—of living in proximity to Hotaru had shown Akira a side of the flame-caster that he had never seen before. Of course, Hotaru was violently sick and possibly delirious, but how did that explain what Akira was feeling?
And how did it explain that kiss…?
Akira heard Hotaru's eyelids flutter open, and the blind man sat up quickly, turning to face him.
"What are you doing on the floor?" Hotaru's voice was a rough, barely-audible whisper.
"I didn't want to disturb you," Akira lied.
Hotaru closed his eyes again and wondered why Akira wouldn't tell him the truth. But then, Akira had never been good at expressing himself. Not to mention that he favored solitude—excluding the presence of Kyo—nearly as much as Hotaru once had. He lived alone, thought alone, and before his fight with Tokito had crippled him, he had fought alone, refusing help no matter the consequences. No matter how many times his stubbornness nearly got him killed. He might be more mature now, but some things never changed.
"How are you feeling?" Akira inquired.
"I think…better than yesterday," Hotaru said hesitantly. "But then, I thought that yesterday, too."
Akira touched Hotaru's forehead with the back of his hand. It didn't seem nearly as hot as the previous day, though still much warmer than any normal human.
"Just don't push yourself," Akira cautioned, remembering with a slight shudder the blood on Hotaru's hands.
They were quiet for a while, neither feeling the need to speak. This was one of the few things about Hotaru (sober, anyway; he was an endlessly amusing drunk) that had not irritated Akira during Hotaru's years in the Shiseiten. He wasn't nearly as loud or chatty as Bon or Akari, and he and Akira had often communicated through body language alone or not at all. They simply felt no compulsion to. Akira didn't like people who talked too much.
The two of them had so rarely agreed that Akira had failed to notice how close they became, and how well he understood the fire-caster.
Hotaru was hesitantly able to drink some water (not without remarking on how much he hated the element; Akira took it as a good sign), though he was still intensely wary of food. He trusted Akira with his life—he'd had to ever since the kid had officially joined the (then three) Emperors—but he couldn't trust his own stomach to keep anything down.
"Akari said to check in tomorrow," Akira remarked. "Do you think you'll be able to?"
Hotaru shrugged.
"I guess I won't know 'til tomorrow…everything seems to change by the day."
Akira nodded. Indeed it does…
"Akira…are you okay? Akari lied to me."
"As I asked her to," Akira replied sharply. "My condition is not something I want the world to know."
"…sorry."
"Never mind…it's fine, you didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't be angry with you…"
"But you are," Hotaru said softly.
"Yes," Akira confessed, the tortured word filled with more anger at himself than Hotaru.
"Why?"
Akira sighed, hating himself.
"Because I cannot be healed," he said shortly. "Don't get me wrong; I'm glad you can escape your disease…but there is nothing more that Akari can do for me. Even before you spoke to her of your illness, I was taking every painkiller I could without endangering my life. I cannot escape my pain, no matter what I do…I could not even walk if not for these drugs and my own refusal to fall…and that is beginning to fail. Every day, every hour, every minute is filled with this agony…it's tearing me apart," he concluded in a whisper.
"You lied to me."
"To save your life!" Akira cried, ire rising. "You would have refused to go to Akari, and your own thick-headedness would have killed you! Are you saying you would have preferred to die like Hishigi rather than be lied to once?!"
Hotaru's fists clenched as he remembered Hishigi's death again. Sometimes he hated Akira for being right, especially when it made him feel stupid or selfish.
Akira shook his head.
"Forgive me. I'm being insensitive. I shouldn't put stress on you…I shouldn't yell…"
Hotaru looked at the younger man, slightly ashamed of himself. After all, Akira was right; Hotaru, miserable though he currently was, would heal. Akira would not. The blind warrior was truly broken…body far beyond repair, and spirit and resolve cracking.
"Please don't apologize to me, Akira…you have every right to your anger. I can't even imagine your pain…I'm sorry."
Akira didn't answer, but returned to sit on the edge of the futon. Hotaru did not seem overheated, so he didn't bother with ice.
Hesitantly, feeling awkward now that Hotaru was aware of his surroundings, Akira brushed a couple of stray hairs back into place, feeling the softness of Hotaru's hair, the smooth skin of his face. Taking in everything he used to know about him, through the senses he had left.
He had noticed three years ago that the braid had gone, but it seemed that Hotaru had grown his hair out again, and that familiar plait tickled his fingers. Akira sighed. It was good to have some kind of familiarity—even if it was a friend he hadn't seen in years, and who had changed so much in those years.
Most familiar were his scars—the one thing about a person that never changed.
Hotaru's scars were not quite as numerous as Akira's, but many were as severe. The deep gashes in his chest from Kyo's Suzaku; the thin, barely visible lines on his face, mementos of Tenrou's ferocity that had allowed him to use chikewai against the crimson-eyed man; wounds from his fights with Shinrei and Anthony; worse ones from Yuan; and the vicious marks that Fubuki had left when the Taishiro had mercilessly overwhelmed the brothers.
And of course, every scar that told of his years of travel with Kyo, Akira and the others; stabs and slashes that were every bit as familiar to Akira as to Hotaru himself. He had seen those scars from the moment they were made until the day he had ruined his own eyes.
Hotaru didn't know how to react to Akira's closeness, to the strange but not unpleasant feeling of those hands on his skin. He reached out to touch Akira's check just as the blind man's trailing fingers returned to Hotaru's.
This embrace, this kiss was longer, and softer; each man fully aware of the other's pain, they were as gentle as their natures allowed. Akira twined his fingers into Hotaru's silken hair, holding the flame-caster to himself just as Hotaru pulled him close and nipped playfully at Akira's collarbone, licking a stripe back up his neck to return to his mouth. Akira shivered, at the same time anxious and exhilarated by the feeling of Hotaru's hot breath on his throat.
The ice-wielder pressed back insistently, biting softly at Hotaru's lip as the other parted his lips and ventured to explore his mouth.
Hotaru, overcome by the blood rushing to his brain, forgot for a moment to be gentle. He pulled Akira roughly against himself, pressing a little too hard on his tormented back.
Akira screamed, a pain-mad sound more animal than human. Hotaru just looked at him, helpless, furious with himself and horrified by what he had done in his carelessness. Akira curled into a ball, wrapped around his agony, trembling. The destroyed muscles throbbed, and Akira was glad he could no longer cry. He couldn't guarantee that he could have held back tears.
"Akira…oh, Akira, I'm so sorry…" Hotaru whispered. "I didn't mean to…"
The younger man shuddered, his breathing fast and catching every time he inhaled. Hotaru couldn't begin to imagine how much pain he had to be in. He had seen Akira take a sword in the gut without screaming like that.
They stayed like that for the better part of an hour, Hotaru not daring to touch Akira for fear of hurting him again.
Finally, Akira moved, tortured legs unfolding slowly as he forced himself to sit up and prop himself against the wall, still breathing heavily.
"So now you know," he said bitterly.
"Akira…"
"It wasn't all you. It happens sometimes…for no reason at all…sometimes when I'm carrying something too heavy or trying to train… I'm about ready to give that up. All it does is hurt…Kyo would kill me without even meaning to if we fought…"
Hotaru's eyes were sad, filled with a desperate desire to help his old friend that he could not act upon. Akira was lost in the dark he had hidden himself in; now Hotaru knew why he had not seen Akira for two weeks after returning to Mibu lands.
"Why did you come here?" he asked hesitantly. "I wouldn't have thought you'd go to the Mibu, of all places."
"Akari is here. The pain was…too much," Akira breathed. "And I needed to take Tokito home. Then…I just stayed. I didn't have anywhere else to go."
One sentence stuck in Hotaru's mind.
"You were travelling with Tokito?"
Akira let out a breath that almost sounded like laughter.
"Stupid kid followed me for three whole years, practically begging me to fight her. I lied to her, over and over…said she wasn't strong enough to fight me. And that when I could barely walk. She stalked off the moment we returned…haven't seen her since."
"She's been with us," Hotaru said. "She's as confused as I was about having a family, but I think she's getting used to it. Anna can be real nice…sometimes."
Akira smiled a little.
"Good. She needs it."
Hotaru felt strange as he listened to Akira speak of Tokito, and he bit his lip. Wait…was he jealous?
It was true that often during his travels he had missed his old companions—all of them, even Akari and (though he would never admit it) Shinrei—so of course, once in a while his thoughts would alight on the blind man. He would wonder where Akira was, what he was up to…often while sick as a dog on the ship, or recovering from being kicked by an extremely angry (and huge) camel. Of course, that time he was missing Akari, too.
All right, yes, he was a bit jealous of Tokito. He wished a little that he could have spent a while with Akira, or perhaps taken Akira with him on his own travels. After all, as Hotaru had learned, there was nothing like riding a camel (or an elephant) to strengthen your legs. India was fun. So was Egypt. And China.
"So what did you do for three years, Hotaru?"
"Well, first I went to China," Hotaru said absently. "It was pretty cool there; I hung out with pandas a lot. It wasn't bad at all, except that no one spoke Japanese."
Akira put one hand to his face and almost laughed.
"Hotaru…people speak Chinese in China."
"Oh…well, I went to India after that. I almost got trampled by an elephant. I didn't even know those were real. They're a lot bigger in real life." Akira let out a small chuckle at that. He was a little jealous; Hotaru had certainly been having adventures.
"I even got to ride one; after a while, I found the one person in India who speaks a little Japanese, and he helped me rent an elephant to travel with. Her name was Vana. It means 'wind'. I was sad when I had to give her back; I was running out of money…"
Akira smiled, imagining Hotaru astride one of the great beasts.
"Where did you get more?"
"Well it turned out that the pirates who gave me a lift to China were at a port in India when I went looking for a ride to Egypt. They took me on board again, but I worked for my living…and I couldn't use my fire because, you know, wooden boat…except that one time another crew chased us because they wanted our ship. That was fun. Then we took their stuff, 'cause I didn't burn everything, and I got a big cut of it 'cause I burned up the ship and all. So they dropped me in Egypt and said they'd be back next year, and not to get killed because they were starting to like me."
Akira's smile was a little sad; he wished he could have experienced the things Hotaru talked about. He had stuck to deserts and other such places during his travels, and Hotaru's more colorful adventures were unbelievably enticing.
"How was Egypt, then?" he inquired, hungry for more stories to imagine and see in his mind's eye.
Hotaru smiled, remembering.
"Egypt was the best," he said as his mind travelled back to the beautiful land. "Everything shines in the sun, and the heat…it's amazing, Akira, I wish you could have been there. And I had enough money to buy a camel instead of renting. He sort of hated me at first though…I had to get lots of lessons, so I learned some Arabic. I know how to say 'camel', 'stop', and 'you're stupid'. 'Gamal', 'kef', and 'anta ghabi'. I forgot most of the other stuff…I heard those the most.
"Anyway, once my camel stopped trying to kill me, I travelled around a lot. Saw the pyramids, and some cool temples and stuff. I met a few neat people who helped me get around the place; I had no idea where anything was. The big river there flows north; it's weird. Yeah…what was I saying? Hmm…oh right. They helped me out when my stupid camel kicked me and broke my knee. That hurt. But still, Egypt was the best…it was so cool."
Akira heard Hotaru's heart quicken as he spoke of Egypt; he had truly loved the place, more than most he'd visited or lived in.
"But I was starting to miss everyone back here—and I didn't know when the crew would be back next—so I got back on the ship when I came back into port. They did some trading, and then the lot of us went back to the ship, got roaring drunk—I'm told I won an arm-wrestling tournament—and shoved off in the morning with the worst hangover I've had in seven years." Hotaru winced at the memory. Akira would have rolled his eyes if he could.
"Clearly, you didn't learn your lesson drinking with Kyo."
"Oh, I didn't drink nearly that much. These guys are serious, sure, but nothing compared to me, let alone Kyo or Yukimura. Still…yeah, my head hurt for a while. "
Akira's mouth quirked up in a half-smile.
"Of course, it takes forever to get from Egypt to Japan…I never realized how far these places are. And we ran into a huge storm on the way, of course. Ugh…I got way sick. I hate water. That was the one time I wished Shinrei was there, so he could make the stupid boat stop rocking around. Anyway, it took almost five months to get home, what with rough seas and having to stop to restock and exercise my camel so he'd stop destroying the cabin we put him in."
"You brought him with you?" Akira asked incredulously.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Akira sighed. Hotaru logic. He doubted there was a person in the world—besides maybe Yuan—who understood it.
"So yeah…I came home, said 'bye to the guys, and they gave me a parrot. She's green. They told me they're back every year and to look for them if I ever feel like sailing again. I might…there's too much water though."
"It's called the ocean, Hotaru," Akira laughed.
Hotaru looked bemused, but he was happy. He'd made Akira laugh again—and after the horror he had just endured, he needed to laugh.
"You seem better," Akira remarked. Hotaru nodded, neglecting to mention the minor fit he'd had overnight. It hadn't been serious, and he didn't think it worth telling Akira. He had enough to worry about already.
"I think I can go to Akari tomorrow."
"Good…she should know everything. I know about last night, by the way. Please don't lie to me."
Hotaru looked at his feet, ashamed. When would he learn, he wondered, that lying to Akira was a terrible idea as well as completely pointless?
"You should probably try to eat something," Akira suggested.
"Shouldn't you?"
Akira realized suddenly that he had not eaten since bringing Hotaru back to his apartment. His stomach growled, and he sightlessly glared at it.
"Yes, I suppose I should."
Hotaru noticed how tired Akira sounded; clearly, his fits drained him just as did the worst of Hotaru's own. The fire-caster's expression saddened again as he noted Akira's pronounced limp.
"Let me help."
"I'm fine, Hotaru. Rest."
They ate in silence, Hotaru hesitating only a moment before taking the food.
I'm not alone anymore. And I trust Akira.
---
"Well, you look terrible," Akari observed, looking at Hotaru.
He supposed he did. He had dark circles under his golden eyes, and he was exhausted. But he hadn't had a fit last night, so he felt more optimistic than he had the previous day.
"Thanks, Akari," he muttered.
The shaman laughed.
"All right, off with the shirt. The disease manifests at least eighty percent in the lungs; I need to check those out."
"Kay," Hotaru agreed, shedding his upper clothing.
"Well, you're still a skinny little shrimp," Akari remarked. Hotaru rolled his eyes, glaring a little.
Akari's examination took only about ten minutes. She was a little shocked, not only by the extreme backlash that the treatment had caused, but by how quickly Hotaru seemed to be bouncing back from it. She wondered if it had anything to do with his half-Mibu blood. His human mother's blood had been badly affected by the system-shocking vaccine, but the fact that he was only half Mibu seemed to have reduced the severity of the disease—or at least heightened his ability to fight it.
"I'm surprised; you seem much better. It's still going to take a while before you fully recover, but I doubt you'll have any more major attacks. If you start feeling worse again, come see me, but I think you'll be okay."
Akira bit his lip, debating whether to bring up the issue of his leg again. He wasn't sure if Akari would have even thought about it, let alone changed her mind, since their last conversation. He decided to try her anyway.
"Akari—?"
"You want to talk again? All right, come with me."
"Hotaru knows. We can talk here."
Akari's eyebrows rose in surprise. The shaman honestly hadn't expected Akira, so secretive about his pain, to tell Hotaru so soon. She guessed he trusted the fire-caster more than she'd thought.
"Okay then. I'm assuming you're going to ask me about resetting your leg. I told you, Akira, it's a massive gamble. I'd be terrified even to try. It's not difficult with a clean break, but both of the bones in your lower leg shattered. And it's been three years of you walking on it and probably exacerbating the injury. It might be possible. But you need to be fully aware of what your consequences might be."
Akira's hands clenched into fists, trembling slightly.
"Akari, I don't think you understand," he said quietly. "Even now, without an ounce of weight on this leg, the pain is unbelievable. Stabbing, tearing…I don't think you can begin to imagine it. If there is anything—anything —I can do to make it stop, or even be just a bit more bearable, I have to take that chance. Akari…please."
The pink-haired shaman bit her lip. Akira was right; it was his choice. But the risk…at the same time, she didn't want to be responsible, and knew she could never entrust Akira to another. She was the most skilled, and had the best judgment. No, she had to do it herself.
Finally, she spoke.
"You're right, Akira," she said. "I was being selfish…I didn't want the responsibility if I made you worse. It could happen…you might never walk again…but if you really insist…I'll do it myself. I won't deny you. But don't forget the secret!" Akari winked. "Hotaru, you still owe me one."
As Hotaru racked his brain for a secret Akari didn't know yet, a tiny smile showed on Akira's face.
Akari…thank you, he thought, for the first time in his life. But I'm still going to kill you someday for extorting secrets.
"I can't do it today, though. Come back in two days, with Hotaru. I'd like to see if he improves more that quickly, and I'll be ready to take you on, too. Come here, Hotaru. Secret. Now."
Hotaru hung his head, biting his lip. He didn't know if his secret was good enough for Akari's healing.
"Akira. Out," Akari ordered. "You hear too much."
Akira grumbled and stalked out of the room, shutting the door a bit harder than necessary.
Akari advanced on Hotaru, positioning her right ear beside his mouth.
"All right, 'Taru-chan, spill the beans," she said sweetly.
Hotaru's eye twitched a little. 'Taru-chan?
"Um…I'm not sure if it's good enough," he mumbled. "But…um…I kissed Akira," he finished, so softly that only Akira himself could have heard.
"It doesn't count if I don't hear it, genius," Akari said, peeved.
"I kissed Akira," Hotaru repeated a little louder.
Akari's eyes widened and her jaw dropped a little.
So that was what was going on.
"Not good enough?!" Akari cackled. "That's brilliant! Your debt is fully repaid! I might even give you a freebie for that one!"
In the hallway, Akira wondered what Hotaru had said to make Akari so happy…
End Chapter
Ahaha, 3 Akari. She is so fun to write :P
I know you're all wondering what Akira's secret is, and whether the next chapter will have some more yaoi-ness, so I shall attempt to update as soon as is humanly possible.
