Stop the World

This is a joint entry for MewMidnight's Crack Couples Competition and Stik and Marvel Maiden's Winter Competition. Actually, I'm not sure I made it in time for MewMidnight's competition, but I hope I did. This was definitely uploaded before midnight site time on the 16th. We'll see, I guess.

Here's what I mean by "Slight AU:" The Mew Project still happens in this universe, but Ryou is 20, not 15, when the manga starts. No one else's ages are changed (not that it matters for this fic); Ryou is just five years older, and he doesn't live with Keiichiro. Oh, and he meets the other main character before the series starts, That's definitely a change.

Said other main character is so obscure that (a) she doesn't have a character filter, and (b) she doesn't even have a real name. So I made one up for her—stick it in a translator and see what a lazy-ass I am!—but it is in no way canon. I guess it would be possible to get through the entire fic and not figure out who she is, but if that's the case, you need to familiarize yourself with the canon some more.

-First Quarter-

I can't believe some of the looks I'm getting. Obviously, yes, it is pretty amazing that someone my age is in doctorate school with these clowns, but at the same time, we're in freaking doctorate school. You'd think that by this point in their lives, they'd have learned enough social graces not to care. I don't care, though. Let them stare. Doesn't change the fact that I'm smarter than any of them.

Since this is the big welcome lecture, the hall is almost completely full, but the seats next to me are both empty. What, is everyone afraid of my boyish good looks?

Right before the welcome speech starts, someone slides into the seat on my left. I glance over at the newcomer, trying to look worldly and cool. Woah. She looks back at me like she knows what I'm thinking, eyes half-closed in boredom and lip curled just a little. I wish I could give looks like that, but she breaks my concentration, so I end up blinking like an idiot.

Way down at the podium, the dean or whoever—I wasn't paying attention when she introduced herself—says that she wants us to really connect as a class (as a class that won't sit near the 15-year-old, she doesn't add), so we should greet the people around us.

I'd frankly rather introduce myself to the blank seat on my right than the woman on my other side, but she surprises me by going, "I'm Zenjin Kou. And you are...?" Her black eyes bore into mine like she's trying to read my mind.

"I'm Shirogane Ryou. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Zenjin." My mouth is on automatic, all politeness even though I'm feeling decidedly surly. She seems fine with the formality of the address, though, because she smiles a little bit and looks me over one more time before turning back to listen to the speaker.

During the first couple weeks of classes, Zenjin keeps talking to me, and I can't quite figure out why. Nobody else is queuing up to interact with the wunderkind (a.k.a. yours truly), and Zenjin doesn't seem particularly eager to make friends with anyone else. She's a little weird, I guess, but unlike me, she's weird in a way that makes her seem cool, not one that makes her a pariah. Most of the people in my class either wear t-shirts or ties—I'm in the former category, obviously—but Zenjin dresses like a character out of an old movie. The other day, she honestly wore one of those little hats with the veil. It should have made her look like somebody's grandmother, but she pulled it off, I guess.

Still, it's nice to have someone to talk to, even if it's the one person who still kind of intimidates me. I'm doing great in all my classes and everything, but it's really uncomfortable to be surrounded by all these people who barely deign to speak to me. I was pretty much home schooled until my dad—well, you know—and even after that, his assistant Akasaka helped me finish up "high school." University wasn't too bad either, since I specifically picked a school where I wouldn't be the only child genius in the class. But this was the doctorate school with the best genetics program, and I guess that's worth a little alienation, right?

Plus, on second thought, "deign" is the wrong word. I'm at the top of all my classes, and I'm not actually all that shorter than most of the other students, so there's no way they're looking down at me. If I look at the facts empirically, it seems like Zenjin must be looking down on me, since she's an elegant lady and I'm a little brat and everything, but she talks to me like I'm an adult. Like this afternoon, we ate lunch together, and just spent an hour debating phyletic gradualism verses punctuated equilibrium. She's specializing in evolutionary biology, but I don't hold that against her.

-Second Quarter-

I watch Zenjin go over to Rachel Moore and ask if she can borrow her tape measure. Rachel's brow furrows; she's semi-famous in the class for carting around all her lab equipment in a ridiculous neon orange tackle box. A less well-known fact about her, at least to people who don't spend as much time watching crazy people as Zenjin and I do, is that she takes every single thing out of the box every lab period, no matter what the lab actually requires. Even better, she takes every single thing out in a precise order. Right now she's on item 12, a digital thermometer. The tape measure is item 27. The weirdest thing, though? Rachel is otherwise completely normal. It's possible that she's an even bigger know-it-all than I am, but she doesn't have any other hang-ups or crazy rituals. Only her stupid box.

"Just a second," Rachel says anxiously. I almost burst into laughter at her dilemma, but Zenjin somehow remains perfectly composed. Elegant, she would say.

"No, that's okay. I'll borrow someone else's. Thank you anyway, Ms. Moore." We've been studying bacterial cultures for almost two weeks in this lab, so there's no reason anyone would need a tape measure. Zenjin comes back over to me and we wait together for that to dawn on Rachel. It never does, which is somehow all the funnier.

I don't even begin to understand Zenjin. She's the only student at this stupid school who treats me like an adult, but then she decides to do something like this, and it's like I'm a kid again. Or maybe a kid finally, I don't know. I used to go with my parents on all their expeditions, and while you'd think archeological digs would be an awesome place to play as a kid, they're really not. No one wants you stepping anywhere and messing stuff up, and there's never anyone else your age.

This isn't the first time we've made a nuisance of ourselves. Zenjin and I have been trading off pulling little pranks—nothing that could hurt anyone, obviously, just things to mess with people's heads—for about two weeks. Zenjin doesn't seem like the type of person who'd be interested in something as juvenile as screwing up Rachel Moore's "system," or changing all the computer lab backgrounds to show a different university, or anything else like that. Not that that was us, of course. It's just an example of the sort of thing we might do. Theoretically.

But if anything, she's more into it than I am. I pull pranks because it's nice to finally be able to act out a little after being watched by my folks or Keiichiro all my life. Zenjin pulls pranks like it's a calling from God, always action-movie serious despite how essentially silly the whole thing is.

"What's so elegant about messing with Rachel and everybody?" I ask Zenjin while we're discussing the incident after class. I stare at her with one eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer. It's a look I've been working on, and while I think I'm getting pretty darn good at it, but I can't fool Zenjin. She smiles back at me, but her eyes are hard.

"These people," she says, her voice light as ever, "these normal people who can't accept anything different or superior... The elegance is in making them realize how limited they are." If she was anyone else, Zenjin would probably be shouting. Instead, her voice is still quiet, but there's an intensity there that freaks me out.

And I don't know what to say. What can I say to that? I'm not even sure what she means, but I think it makes sense. It's like... It's like Zenjin managed to say stuff that I've been feeling all along but that I didn't know how to put into words.

"You're right. I think I understand." She just smiles wryly.

"No, Shirogane, I don't think you do."

The hallway we're in is otherwise deserted, but Zenjin looks back and forth down it anyway before motioning for me to follow her. Around the corner, some guy I don't know is buying something from a vending machine. Zenjin doesn't go out into the next hallway, instead pressing herself against the wall, keeping herself mostly out of the guy's sight. I do the same next to her, but realize that I can't see anything from there and crouch down instead, peering around the corner.

"Don't say anything," Zenjin says and narrows her eyes.

The guy, who was bending down to grab his food, stands bolt upright, raises his hands, and does a cartwheel. I look sharply back at Zenjin. She smiles and holds a finger to her lips. Cartwheel guy walks back over to the vending machine, grabs his candy bar, and walks off, apparently oblivious to his acrobatics.

By the time he's out of sight, my brain is sputtering with so many questions that I can't form the words to any of them. Zenjin doesn't wait for me to figure it out.

"Yes, that was me. And remember that I can do that, if you ever think about telling anyone." There's a challenge in her voice, like she expects me to run away screaming. I thought she knew be better than that.

"I won't tell anyone," I say, drawing an X on my chest with a finger. "Cross my heart." She nods, once. "But... What...?" She shrugs.

"It's something I've been able to do since I was younger than you. In all honesty, that's why I started following you around—I thought you might be the same way, since you're here at your age."

"Couldn't you have just read my mind and figured that out right away?" Then, after a moment's reflection, "Have you been reading my mind this whole time?" Zenjin rolls her eyes at that one.

"I can't read minds, Shirogane. I couldn't even tell what kind of candy bar he bought. I can just... make people do what I want. It's hardly useful when I'm trying to stay inconspicuous." That bitter intensity creeps back into her voice. "Most people would go crazy if they knew. You maybe a normal human, Shirogane, but you're not bad."

Her smile is bitter too, but it looks more real than the beatific, slightly amused look she normally wears. I grin back at her, a big goofy smile.

-Third Quarter-

"No, Ryou." Kou must see how crushed I look, because, after a moment's hesitation, she takes one of my hands. I feel like I'm about to completely break down, but I can't help blushing at the contact anyway.

"Why?"

A sigh. "Look, Ryou, you're my best friend. But you're fifteen. I feel ancient saying this, but I'm an entire decade older than you. So, as much as I like you, I don't want to 'go out sometime.' Not like that."

I take my hand back, even though I want nothing more than for her to keep holding it. This is exactly why I try to seem like I'm above it all. The first time I've ever opened myself up to a non-family-member (Keiichiro counts as family), and she treats me like I'm a little kid.

Maybe this wouldn't feel so terrible if it was anyone other than Kou. She's the most beautiful person I've ever known, and the funniest, and one of the smartest, and I love her for all of that. I guess I thought she felt the same way.

"Hey," she says gently. "I don't mean it like that, Ryou. Like I said, you're my best friend. And, hell, you know more about me than anybody. But I'm not looking for a romantic relationship right now, and even if I was, I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship with romantic drama ridiculousness."

She smiles, but it's her fake smile. I can tell she's just trying to make me feel better. Still, I guess the fact that she cares enough to be gentle is a good thing. I try to smile back at her, but it doesn't really work.

"I'm sorry I even brought it up," I say quietly. And it's the truth. If I could, I'd go back and stop myself from asking her out on a date-date. That way, I could have gone on thinking that she liked me back. "Still friends?" There. That sardonic, wry smile is the real thing. It feels good to see it, even under the circumstances.

"Of course. Besides, if I didn't have you, who would I blame for the fake mouse currently zipping around the psych lab?" She pulls out a controller with a little steering wheel on it and holds it out to give to me.

I take a deep breath. Kou really does know me well. The best way to stop myself from moping is to distract myself with something that I love. And I do love confusing psychologists. I wipe away the tears that somehow formed on my cheeks and dance away from her.

"You won't be able to blame it on me if they find you holding the transmitter!" I say with a laugh that, considering how choked up I still am, sounds pretty good. Then I take off, leaving her futilely chasing me and trying to hide the controller at the same time.

-Fourth Quarter-

By the end of the year, I'm closer to Zenjin Kou than ever, despite everything. Still not in a romantic sense—she was right, and it would have made everything too weird. We're both at top of our class (I'm ahead of her, but, again, I don't hold it against her), and it turns out that doctorate school isn't any harder than university was, if there's someone around to stop you from going crazy.

Tonight, I'm sitting in the library, half-studying for a final I have tomorrow, but mostly waiting for Kou. She was supposed to meet me here about ten minutes ago, and she's normally pretty punctual. It's something she prides herself on, to the point where I've gotten better at being on time as well, just from being around her so much. It would certainly be more sensible to just wait here until she shows up, but I'm getting antsy, and I know epigenetics backwards and forwards, so I throw my textbook into my backpack and head out to the quad to look for her.

There seems to be a general migration toward the other end of the quad, so I go with the flow and, by the time I'm in the middle of whatever's going on, I have to push through a little crowd to see.

Kou is sitting on the ground under a streetlight, and from the looks of it, she's been in a fight. Her face is splotched with bruises, her nose is crusted with half-dried blood, her fashionable clothes are in disarray, and from the look of it, she's not even in good enough shape to stand up by herself. I'm so shocked to see her like that that it takes me a moment to notice that the red on her blouse wasn't—or, at least, wasn't all—blood. The wordFREAK is scrawled across her chest in what looks like spray paint. Two people push through the crowd of gawkers to help her up, and they half-carry her toward health services. One of them calls out for someone to call 911, but everyone seems frozen.

I'm frozen too, but after a moment, I run after Kou. She's so out of it that she doesn't even register my presence, but that doesn't deter me. Health Services is closed, but someone must have finally called 911, because an ambulance screams up to the building, and paramedics load Kou onto a stretcher. The two people who carried her here (neither of whom I know) hang back, but I climb into the ambulance.

Once she's been patched up and put in a hospital room, Kou looks a lot better. I don't think I've ever been more relieved to see a hospital gown in my life: it looks ridiculous on someone as fashion-conscious as Kou is, but I don't care so long as the "freak" shirt is gone. I can feel myself shaking from worry and adrenaline.

"Who did you tell?" she growls at me.

"What? No one!" I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. How could she even think that I'd tell anyone her secret? Like I wanted this to happen to her? She searches my face—which is probably dead white at the moment—before falling back heavily against her pillow.

"Of course you didn't," she says with a sigh. "You're the only good person I know. I'm sorry I—"

"Don't worry about it," I reply, cutting her off. "I can't even imagine what you're going through right now. You have every right to be upset. Are you going to file charges?"

"No." She looks like she's trying to shake her head, but she winces and inhales a hiss of breath before her head was even halfway to one side. "I don't know who did it, and if I did..." Her eyes narrow, and her voice gets quiet and intense, "When I do, I won't leave it for the police to handle. They wanted a freak? I've never had such a good excuse to use my talents."

I want to tell her what a bad idea it would be to try to get revenge for the hate crime, how it wouldn't solve anything. But I keep my mouth shut. Kou's in a lot of pain right now, and she has every right to be angry at the bastards who hurt her. Plus, she's a smart woman. Once she has a little distance, she'll realize that revenge is stupid. I mean, hell, I want to kill them too, but I know better than to think that would help.

Instead, I say, "Why didn't you use your powers to make them leave you alone?"

She sighs again.

"I didn't know what was happening until they were already on top of me. I can't focus through pain well enough to do anything, but believe me, Ryou, I'll fix that." She sounds so bitter again, that it almost feels like the lights have all dimmed from the force of her anger.

-Commencement-

I visit Kou in the hospital every day for a week straight. She says she feels fine, but that the doctors want her to stay put for a little while longer. Then, on the eighth day, she's gone. Her room is completely bare, with no indication that she was ever there. I find a nurse and ask her, but she says that she doesn't remember anyone being in that room for a few days.

Not knowing what else to do, I race back to my apartment, hoping that she'll somehow be there with a perfectly reasonable explanation. But of course the apartment is empty too, not to mention a terrible mess, since I haven't felt up to cleaning it lately.

My kitchen table, though, is spotless—definitely not how I left it—except for an envelope sitting in the middle of it. I recognize the handwriting immediately.

Ryou—

I know it's unforgivable of me not to say this to your face, but I couldn't risk you convincing me to stay. You always were far too sensible and persuasive.

As I'm sure you've gathered, I'm gone. Don't you dare blame yourself: I left despite you, not because of you. You were the first real friend I ever had, and probably the last normal human friend I ever will. Thank you for everything.

Regarding where I've gone, rest assured that it's not anywhere you could find me. I've made sure of that. I need to be around people like me, so what happened to me can never happen to any of them. Maybe you can't understand, but I have a responsibility to my people. Maybe, if everything goes well, I'll see you again someday.

All my love,

Zenjin Kou