Chapter 5: Kazuya's Perception

His world was no longer quiet. He could find no peace whether he was awake or asleep. Always he would hear Devil whispering in his ear, attached to him in a way that was far too personal. Out of common practice, he still pretended to ignore it, but he knew that it was not possible. Devil's presence had intensified and Kazuya did not know how to lessen it. Devil would not be argued with, not anymore. While before he had been able to have conscious conversations with Devil, now he did not seem capable of doing so any longer. There were conversations, but he was not aware of them. Some part of him conversed at great lengths with Devil and acquiesced to everything that Devil wanted—if only he knew which part so that he could tell Devil to suck it.

Days passed without his knowledge. Try as he might, he did not always know what he was spending his time doing. Things were deliberately being kept from him, he knew. There was a lock somewhere, places of his mind that he could not access. Every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of the unknown. Just from those lapses, however, Kazuya was quite horrified. He was capable of doing nearly anything, killing being the least of his problems. Such knowledge was made worse when Kazuya realized that he did not have the means of righting what was wrong nor did he always feel up to the task of owning up to something which he, in all reality, had not really done. It was his hands and his mouth, but it was not him.

He was just barely holding on and he did not know what he was holding on to. Bits of life flashed before his eyes, but more often he would be presented with nothing. Chunks of time would be missing on such a regular basis that trying to understand everything became futile. He was often stranded on a little island and only be spoon fed certain events of his life if anything at all. He'd cry out to Devil and it would not respond coherently. He'd cry out for Angel, but her response could not reach him.

No one could help him; he would end up telling himself after another confusing jumble of a day occurred. This was what he had spent the majority of his childhood fearing, the moment when he could no longer fight back, the moment when he stopped being himself forever. It was something worse than death. If he was completely ignorant then he might have been blissful. Devil made sure that he at least knew in a broad sense what was happening.

Sometimes he'd find himself completely awake. It was no easy endeavor getting to that point. For hours, days, even months, his eyes would be closed, glued shut if you will. At first, he did not understand why it had become so difficult to awaken, but he realized something after many failed attempts. "He" was no longer conscious. Someone, no, something else was in control. He was not merely trying to wake up; he was trying to regain control of his own body. How had it slipped away from him so easily in the first place? What had he done to allow Devil so much leeway? He could not immediately answer those questions, but he continued his struggle. By sheer will alone, he was able to gaze upon the world as he had usually done for the majority of his life. He'd open his eyes and not know where exactly he was. After long periods of darkness, he would be completely disoriented as he used eyes that he thought had long since been closed. No, not his physical eyes—those worked perfectly—but the ones that had been closed by Devil, those were in disuse. Sometimes, he'd find himself in meetings, or walking across streets, or sometimes he'd be in the middle of a phone call. At odd moments, he'd be awake again, but only for a short while. Devil would eventually make its presence known with never a word. Devil would stuff him back into whatever dark corner he'd clawed himself away from and he'd be back to square one.

This sort of routine continued in this way for quite some time until Devil decided it'd do something different. In a flash, Kazuya felt his lost control return to him all at once and this time he had been standing in his own bathroom at the time. There was a catch, he was certain and without being told he knew what that was. He was to obey everything that Devil wanted him to do or be shoved back into darkness. After being there for so long, after struggling to grab hold of what sanity he could for what felt like months, the thought alone was enough to subdue him into grudging submission. After not having it for so long, control was something he cherished. That did not make what he was doing any easier to do. It was like having a gun pressed firmly to the back of his head. Every time he so much as said something contrary to what Devil wanted him to say, he'd hear the click of that same gun, readying itself. But there were many more times that Kazuya blatantly ignored Devil to a certain extent and still he remained in control. The fear was still there, but he knew then that he had been afforded some leeway. Kazuya knew that he shouldn't overstep his boundaries and he did not. Virtually, everything that Devil wanted was done without much fuss from Kazuya. There was a leash on his neck and the only thing Kazuya felt he could do at the moment was obey.

But he was tired—mentally and spiritually. He was much too weary to put up a real fight against Devil not the kind of fight he had once waged during his youth. He'd go out to the roof of the massive headquarters simply to be alone or as alone as he could be with the infernal Devil breathing heavily at his back. People knew to keep their distance. They knew that the roof was his. Everyone that is except Lee.

Lee. He was the last person Kazuya would want to rely on for help, but he was the only one there. The only one dumb or brave enough to work directly under him as if he enjoyed being ridiculed and belittled on a normal basis. Kazuya knew that he could not keep Devil at bay on his own; he was not too prideful to see that he needed help. Yet relaying such messages to Lee was difficult. Devil could see everything he did, it knew his thoughts, and saw his actions. Lee would just have to figure things out on his own. That night on the roof, Kazuya was sure that Lee must have understood something, but even then Kazuya was not sure if that was enough. When he felt Devil grabbing hold of him once again, Kazuya knew that that was the only chance he would be given. The one thing that Devil could not forgive was if he alerted someone else of his situation. Even it was vague at best, it was enough for Devil to want to regain control at once. Kazuya had felt such things occurring and had told Lee to leave for his own benefit. Just as Devil could read his thoughts, at certain points when Devil's thoughts were potent enough, Kazuya knew of Devil's intentions. He knew that Devil meant to kill Lee. Even as tired as he was, Kazuya could not let that happen no matter what. With strength he did not know he had, he allowed Lee enough time to make his leave and then as if the floodgates were let open, he lost consciousness completely and Devil took over once again. Devil's anger became so much that it could hardly contain itself. With a sharp cry to the skies which the wind carried off, it spread its wings and took off into the night.

There was no telling when Kazuya was able to assert what little control he had over his body, but time was something that Kazuya had stopped concerning himself with. A year could have passed and he would not have known the difference. He had no one to answer to anyways. No significant other who he had to recount events to, no boss where he had to explain his whereabouts. There was only himself he had to appease and Kazuya found that these days it was the simplest things that could accomplish this. Moments like this when he could look down at his own hands and know that they were his were enough. At some points, he could even form his own thoughts. There wasn't much to think about, however, besides remembering the past. There was no longer anything to look forward to. He was almost certain that it was important to have goals set out for oneself, or at least a vague plan of where one's life might go. Kazuya had none of these and he wondered how he could still function under such conditions. It was like being stranded in the middle of nowhere. No cars would ever come down the highway; the scene itself would never change. He was simply stagnant. He might as well have been a statue on a derelict building. He could not understand why he still fought so hard to remain a living, breathing creature capable of thoughts and dreams. There was no reward waiting for him. He was not trying to impress the next person. But somehow he had concluded long ago that he should fight no matter what—it was innately part of his nature to do so. To not fight meant that he no longer existed.

/

AN: Yes, yes, I know you are waiting patiently (or impatiently) for Jun's return. I'm getting to it, don't worry. Anyways, as always, stay tuned. Next chapter coming in a few days and possibly will be much longer than this one.