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"Burning with blue flames are my
memories.
The needle-like rain slashes through them.
Someone's scream, and someone's dream…
…take their final breath on the wet pavement."
~Weiss Kreuz; "It's Too Late"~
An icy calm seemed to encase itself around Houjun over the next week, a thin layer of steadyness and surety that he could not remember ever feeling before. It was the kind of unquestionable calm that the suicidal have as they prepare their deaths, or perhaps the confidence of one who has made a life-saving choice and plans to see it through. He now had a purpose, a goal, even, and that thought alone helped him survive with surprising ease: his flashbacks lessened, his nightmares tapered off, and his headaches were so infrequent that his parents were convinced they had disappeared altogether. Even his grades, which had been plummeting at an alarming rate, quickly rose back to their usual string of top marks.
Houjun's life had, to all outer appearances, righted itself once again. Only the young man himself was aware of the inevitable test; only he was frightened of what was to come, and yet unmoving in the fact that it must come. Only Houjun watched the approaching storm clouds that dreary weekday evening, swallowing his fear and accepting the events that would occur later that night.
Only Houjun, that is, and Kouran, who was not fooled by her beloved's convincing yet obviously false stability and cheerfulness. She and Hikou had kept a close watch on their friend that week, and, though Hikou seemed oblivious to Houjun's occasional nervousness and jittery excitement, Kouran hadn't missed a detail. As she said her good-byes to Houjun that afternoon, watching as his eyes shot towards the forming stormclouds almost hopefully, she smiled and grabbed ahold of Hikou's arm. "Oh, Hikou, would you mind sticking around for a minute? I was wondering if you could help me fix something inside - Otoo-san's making a housecall, and I'm not very good at that sort of thing."
The young man did not miss his female partner's look. He nodded hurriedly. "Sure, Kouran," he said cheerfully, putting his hands behind his head and waving a good-bye to Houjun. "I'll see what I can do. Talk to you later, 'Jun."
"Hai," he said distractedly, too bothered with his own thoughts to notice Kouran's tension and Hikou's curiously raised eyebrow. "Jaa ne, you two!"
Kouran pulled Hikou roughly into her house, closing the front door quickly behind him. The young man glanced around the darkened hall, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips. "A secret club meeting on such short notice? Sure hope your parents don't show up right at the part about this being a false world."
"They won't," she snapped impatiently. "You know as well as I do that if I don't want them to be in the house, then my memories will make sure they aren't in the house." The young woman leaned back against the wall of the hallway, glancing out the window to where Houjun had disappeared. "Anyway, I'm worried about Houjun. He's been acting... funny, all this week. Like something's bothering him. I'm not sure what, but I don't like it."
Hikou frowned. "I haven't really noticed anything, to be honest, but you always picked up on that stuff better than I did. What's the problem? You think he's figuring things out?" the young man was surprised at the hopeful note in his own voice.
Kouran did not mirror his feelings. "Gods, I hope not," she said quietly. Her eyes turned towards the storm clouds above; she frowned worriedly. "But maybe he's trying to figure things out. Either way, it's not good. Not good at all... Hikou," she said suddenly, turning his way once again. "Tonight's your night keep an eye on him, isn't it?" He nodded. "All right, good, good. I want you to watch him as closely as you can - all through the night, all through the coming storm. So don't go dozing off or anything, okay?"
The young man flashed a weak smile. "Sleep? C'mon, Kouran, you know as well as I do the dead don't need sleep - we just do it out of boredom. But why tonight? What do you think's going to happen?"
She folded her arms across her abdomen nervously, squeezing herself to still the shudder that had suddenly crept up her spine. "I'm not sure. It's just this feeling I'm getting, this warning in my mind... this ache in my heart."
Houjun smiled and joked impatiently through dinner that evening, pretended to stay up and study for the mid-year exams, feigned exhaustion as he blew out the candle in his room. He sat in his bed that evening, watching as the drizzle outside his window turned to rain, the rain to a downpour, and the downpour finally to a full-fledged thunderstorm. It was time.
The young man waited until nearly midnight, right when the storm was at its violent peak, before slipping quietly out his bedroom window. He tightened the sash on his thin robe a little, then straightened his shoulders and made a beeline for the Shouryuu River. He had purposely waited for a night like this. Rain - raging storms, especially - always heightened his sense of unrest, always made his headaches more violent, his nightmares more fearsome. If he was going to learn anything, it would be on a night like this.
Houjun put his back against a tall tree, pausing a moment to get his bearings. He could hear the rush of the river, swelled from the recent storms, rumbling along just beyond the next hill. He took a deep, even breath, gathering his courage along with the air, and headed up the last slope. Shouryuu River loomed into sight as he topped the bluff. It roared below him, the calm fishing spots turned into violent rapids. The young man hesitated once again, reluctant to get too close to the fast-moving current. If he stumbled, and somehow fell in...
"No," he said quietly to himself. "This is where Hikou and I were fighting, in that one vision. Hatsuko-san found me on the edge of this river. If I'm going to find out the whole story, then I have to go to the place where it happened. No other choice."
Houjun walked slowly down the bank, slipping once or twice on the muddy slope before coming to a halt on the edge of the river. He looked down at the water and closed his eyes, waiting almost expectantly for the headache, or the flashback, or perhaps both. After a moment, he opened them again, frowning somewhat impatiently. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he demanded of the water and his own mind. "You wanted to get this all out in the open, didn't you? Well, come on, here I am, so fire away! I didn't come all the way out here just to get soaked: I wanted some answers."
Lightning cast a jagged flash of light over the riverbank. For a long moment, Houjun heard nothing but the steady thrum of the rain as it pounded his thin form and the surrounding countryside. He sighed heavily, muttering a curse under his breath. What a complete waste of his-
And then it struck. Images came as requested to Houjun's mind and eyes, throwing him roughly into the world he had been avoiding for so long; and the world that he soon wished he had continued to avoid...
Rain pounded off of Houjun's back and shoulders as he stormed roughly through the forest that surrounded Kyokujitsu, but he barely noticed the droplets that soaked his clothing and body. His hands, balled into fists, swung resolutely at his sides while his feet took him on a direct course for the Shouryuu River. That bastard's employer had said he had gone this way after work. Houjun would make sure to catch him before he got far.
The young man spotted his former friend near the riverbank, glancing down fearfully at the raging waters and shooting nervous glances to the sides every once in a while. He was trying to cross, Houjun realized with a blaze of fury. That damned coward was trying to run away. Like hell he would!
"Hikou!" he snapped over the gales of wind. "Hikou, you bastard!"
The other man whirled around, stumbling on the bank but managing to keep his balance. He took a couple of steps forward, peering through the downpour at the murky figure... then, realizing who it was, jumped back again. "Hou-Houjun! What-?"
"Trying to run off, were you?" he said coldly, advancing on his childhood companion. "Maybe you told her to wait on the other side for you, so you could escape? Isn't that right, you cowardly, stab-in-the-back bastard!?"
Hikou's eyes widened in alarm. "You - how could you? - who told you-?"
"This morning," he said quietly, just loud enough so that the other man could hear him. "My fiancee told me an interesting bit of news. She said that the engagement was off, because she was in love with somebody else." He had been gradually walking towards Hikou, until they were just five feet or so apart. Houjun smiled bitterly, sarcastically, one hand touching the knife that hung at his belt. "Now, I wonder who that could possibly be!? Care to tell me, you lying sonofabitch!?"
"Houjun, I-"
But his friend was far past reasoning. He took an angry step forward, fists clenched at his sides. "I trusted you, damn it! I trusted both of you! I never thought... I never guessed... and then, yesterday, I find the two of you off in the woods, in each other's arms, like a pair of..." he bit off the ending, unable to finish. "And today, when she told me... when she said... You betrayed me! Both of you, both of you betrayed me! How could you do that!? Hikou! Answer me, you bastard!"
Hikou opened his mouth, on the verge of stammering a desperate apology, but at the last second his jaws snapped shut. His eyes narrowed angrily, and when he finally spoke the words on his lips were ones of hatred, not repentance. "Well, why shouldn't she love me!?" he demanded defiantly. "Why shouldn't I have Kouran!? You've always gotten everything, everything you ever wanted, while I've had to bust my ass my entire life just to survive! I have every reason to have Kouran, every reason for her to love me! A spoiled prick like you doesn't even deserve a woman like her!"
Houjun's hand tightened on the hilt of his knife. "You-!"
The other man sneered at his former friend, fists tightened, ready to attack if necessary. "So, you saw the kiss, did you? That was something else, wasn't it? She said you never kissed her like that." He gave a vicious bark of laughter, lying through his teeth as he went. "Hah, it's too bad you ran off during the kiss, or you would've seen what came after that! I showed that woman things you never could've shown her, showed her what a real man was like! She'd never go back to such a pathetic shit, not after she had a taste of me!"
Cold fury welled up inside of Houjun's chest as his eyes clouded over with rage. "Teeme...!" Lightning ripped across the clearing. At the same time, Houjun drew the knife from his sash, lunging the weapon at his former friend's chest in a surge of anger and hurt. The young man slashed at Hikou with the sharpened blade, ripping a gap in the other man's shirt. Crimson blood stained the torn cloth, bringing the dark-haired man sharply back to his senses.
Hikou took a step back, foot dangerously close to the edge of the bank. He grappled frantically with his childhood companion's wrist, managing to get a grip on the wet flesh but unable to stop the seeking blade from striking a small cut across his face. The man's eyes widened once more, suddenly aware, oh so aware, of what he had just done. "Houjun-!"
"Did you think this was some kind of GAME!?" Houjun roared in the other man's face. The blade pressed closer; Hikou took another trembling step back. "This isn't a fucking joke, you bastard! Give her back to me! Do you hear me!? GIVE - HER - BACK!"
Hikou, as Kouran had ordered, had been keeping an eye on Houjun that evening. He had watched him slip out of his bedroom window and, with growing surprise and dread, trailed him to the Shouryuu River. Now, without knowing what else to do, the young man watched as his friend battled with invisible demons on the bank of the river, trembling with mixed anger and sorrow at something Hikou could not see. He didn't have to see, though, to know perfectly well what was going on.
"Hikou... Hikou, how could you...!?"
"Hou... jun..." Hikou gasped out, still gripping his companion's surprisingly strong arm and trying to get a better grip on the bank. He knew he had to be on the edge now, practically in the water... if Houjun advanced any further... "Houjun... please..."
His friend didn't seem to hear him. It was hard to tell whether the water on his cheeks was rain or tears of rage as he pressed forward, the plunging blade searching, always searching... demanding answers, reasons, something to dull his pain...
Neither young man heard the bank crumble beneath Hikou's foot; neither saw it give way, sensed it breaking under their combined weight. Neither knew what had happened until it was almost too late.
Hikou pressed his right foot down and realized there was nothing to stand on. With a choked gasp of surprise and fear he slipped down the steep riverbank, grappling helplessly at the rocks and dirt that flew away under his fingertips.
Houjun's eyes widened as he saw what was happening. His knife fell into the river, forgotten immediately as he dove forward and grabbed his childhood friend's wrist firmly in his hand. His anger and hurt evaporated in an instant, replaced by a growing sense of panic and dread. Oh, gods, what had he almost done!? "Hikou...!"
The current tugged hard at the young man, threatening to rip him away from his friend at any second. "Houjun..." he rasped, inhaling riverwater as he did. His frightened eyes bled panic and betrayal. "Help..."
"It's okay, it's okay, Hikou... Hikou, I'll pull you up, I'll, I'll just..."
Their wide eyes met for a moment, holding nothing but remorse and terror at what had happened, at what had almost happened. Houjun smiled just slightly, a flicker of his usual "daijoubu" grin, as if to say they could work this out later, somehow. He tightened his grip on his companion's wrist and braced himself against the bank, ready to pull his friend to safety...
And then the world ripped apart.
Houjun's left eye split open, torn from eyebrow to nose by an invisible force. The young man let out a screech of pain as blood ran down the side of his face. He stumbled towards the riverbank as if hit from behind, reeling drunkenly as he went.
Hikou jumped out of his hiding place as he saw his friend near the flooded river. Houjun collapsed on the bank, his hands at the very edge of the cliff, but he was unaware of his current danger. His heart, thoughts and concerns were all focused inwards, on the same raging river of another night, of another reality... and on the man who was now floundering helplessly in the violent current...
Something slammed into the side of Houjun's head, ripping his face open and knocking him a few feet down the riverbank. Rolling waves of pain cascaded down the young man's face almost as quickly as the crimson sheet of blood did; his hand loosened its hold just slightly, forgetting its purpose for a split second...
...A split second that the river took to sweep the other young man downstream, one last call on his surprised lips: "Houju-!"
Houjun jerked his head up, pain forgotten as he watched his best friend, his childhood playmate, taken under by the fast-moving current. "Hikou!" he screamed desperately, putting one hand against his wound to keep the blood out of his working eye. He scanned the water, hoping his friend would resurface, hoping he would still have a chance to save him. "Hikou! Hikou!"
The young man scrambled along the bank, leaning down over the very edge and watching the rampaging waves as carefully as he could. "HIKOOOOOU!?"
The bank beneath him gave way; with a shout of alarm, Houjun found himself in the river. He closed his eyes - eye, really - preparing for the cold rush of water around his body...
But it never came.
Houjun looked up, blinking in surprise and disbelief. A red barrier surrounded him entirely, encasing him in a layer of protective magic. He happened to glance down, eye widening further at the glowing symbol that had appeared on his knee. "N-nani...?"
The young man did not question it; he did not have the time or energy to question it. He turned his attention back to the river, barely noticing that the red shield carried him to the safety of the bank and disappeared once he was back on land. He was too busy searching the waters, searching with his eye and heart for a sign of his friend... for a hint of his life force...
But still, there was nothing. Always and forever, there would be nothing.
Houjun collapsed on the bank, sobbing helplessly into his arms. "Hikou... Hikou... Why... Why did you... why couldn't I..." he glanced up again, barely noticing the blood that poured unchecked from the throbbing wound on his head. He closed his single eye painfully, tears spilling forth as he screamed the name of his best friend, of his dead friend, one last time to the torrents of rain.
"HIKOU!" Houjun cried miserably, grappling at unseen objects. He leaned out farther over the bank, seconds from tumbling into the speeding current...
An all-too-familiar scene played its way through Hikou's mind at the sight of his friend teetering on the edge of the riverbank. The young man raced out from his hiding place, grabbing Houjun by the back of his robes and pulling him to safety. He gripped him tightly from behind, dragging his unresponsive legs backwards, out of harm's way. "It's okay, it's okay, Houjun, I've got you. I've got you," he babbled nervously, not sure Houjun could hear him but unable to stop his frightened speech. As the dark-haired man released his friend, the young man sunk to the ground in defeat, still brokenly sobbing the name of his childhood companion.
"Houjun..." Hikou put a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder, jerking back in surprise as he realized it was covered in fresh blood. "What the...?" he quickly turned Houjun towards him, eyes widening at the sight of the jagged gash that raced across the left side of his face. "Oh. No. Oh, no."
The young man did not seem to hear his friend. Hands on the wet earth and head down, his single eye continued to view the terrible flood, the horrible happenings of that sinful night. Blood dripped wetly from his injury, mingling with tears and rainwater and falling as one to the drenched ground. "Hikou..." he gasped, shuddering against the pain and sorrow. "It's all my fault... if only I'd..."
For one of the first times in his life, Hikou felt tears well up in his dark eyes. How had Houjun lived, how had he kept surviving, after this? How had he been able to still love Hikou after this evil night? After all this pain, all this anger and frustration and sorrow... And how had he, Hikou, been able to hate Houjun so fiercely? How could he have done such a thing, when no one, no one, had suffered worse from these sins than his best friend, than the one who survived...
Overwhelmed by guilt and remorse - at past mistakes, at previous mistakes - Hikou grabbed his friend in a tight hug, pulling Houjun's weeping head against his chest. He leaned his own head atop Houjun's drenched hair, gripping the other young man as if he were afraid to let him go. Houjun's thin body was still wracked with heart-wrenching sobs as he clutched Hikou's shirt in his grasping fingers, hanging on to the only thing that could hope to bring him back to reality.
Hikou turned his eyes upwards, watching as the Shouryuu River continued its deadly dance through the forest and out of sight. He sighed heavily, dark orbs full of doubt and riddled with guilt.
"Oh, gods, Houjun," he said quietly, digging his fingers into his companion's shirt. "What have we done to you?"
Ri Yukari was awakened roughly from a pleasant dream by the sound of someone pounding on the front door. She sat up in bed in surprise, glancing around the darkened room and blinking her maroon eyes sleepily. "What the...?" The frantic knocking persisted, now rising in volume. "Who in the world would be here at this hour?"
She nudged her husband, who was snoring quietly beside her, somewhat urgently. "Shinsei, wake up. Shinsei, come on! Someone's at the door."
"Huh, wha?" the head of the household jerked awake with a start, looking up at his wife with blank eyes. "Oh, c'mon, I'll fix the stupid table in the morning..."
"This isn't about that!" she snapped impatiently. Shinsei muttered something unintelligible, rolling over so his back was to Yukari. She sighed, putting a hand to her forehead in defeat. "You're hopeless. No wonder Houjun never gets up in time for school..."
A timid knock sounded on their bedroom door, followed by the voice of their second-oldest. "Otoo-san? Okaa-san?" Mitsuru said quietly through the wood. "Someone's at the door. Want me to let 'em in?"
Shinsei sat up, rubbing at one eye with a fist. "Huh? Someone's at the door? Now?" he glanced over at his wife. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"
All the man received was a tired eyeroll. Yukari stood, pulling her nightrobe about her thin shoulders and calling back to her son. "No, that's all right, we'll be there in a moment." She shot a somewhat impatient look at her husband. "Come on then, before whoever it is gets tired of knocking and leaves."
Shinsei reluctantly stood as well, tugging at his sash and brushing his unruly blue hair out of his eyes. "This'd better be important... Time used to be a person could get a decent sleep without people pounding their front doors down in the middle of the night..."
Mitsuru sniggered at his father's side. "You mean, back in the stone age when you was a kid, Otoo-san?" He was cuffed lightly across the head for his remarks. "Ouch! That really hurt!"
"That'll teach you to mouth off to a tired, prehistoric man, Mitsu-chan!"
"Awww Otoo-san, you know I don't like bein' called that anymore!"
"I'll call you whatever you deserve, and right now you're being cheeky enough to deserve Mitsu-chan, Mitsu-chan!"
"'Too-saaaaaan..."
Yukari chuckled at the pair, putting a hand against the wall to help guide herself through the darkened hallway. She heard a loud cracking noise, followed by a muffled swear from her son; she smiled a little, pausing long enough to shout back over her shoulder. "Goodness, I hope your knee didn't damage that table too much, Mitsuru. Take care to watch where you're going, or light a candle next time." He grumbled something that she couldn't hear, which was probably for the best.
Shinsei put his hand on the doorknob, wincing as the stranger continued to bang away on the other side. "We're here, we're here, so would you please..." he swung open the door and never finished his sentence. The older man's mouth dropped; he blinked several times, trying unsuccessfully to form coherent words. "Wha... Hi... wha...?"
Yukari poked her head over her husband's shoulder, curious to see what he was so taken aback over. The sight made her gasp in alarm. Hikou stood in the doorway, drenched from head to foot, with the unconscious form of their oldest son in his arms. Blood stained both young men's shirts, though it was most prominently found around Houjun's collar and face... Yukari's hand flew to her mouth as she realized that the crimson liquid was oozing wetly from her son's eye, heedless to the wad of cloth that Hikou had used in an attempt to slow the flow. "Oh! Oh... Houjun... my baby... no..."
Mitsuru's adolescent head came next, mahogany eyes jerking open at the two soaking figures. He was the only one who managed to cry out a full sentence, snapping the others out of their shock as he did. "Holy shit, what the hell happened to him!?"
Hikou glanced at the three family members, visibly relaxing as he did. Finally, someone to help. Thank the gods. He met Shinsei's eyes pleadingly, the fear easily read in his dark orbs. "I can't stop the bleeding. Get Doctor Suzunami. Please. I'll explain everything then."
The head of the house nodded. "Mitsuru, go."
"Eh?" the boy wrinkled his nose in protest. "But it's pouring rain, and-"
"Now!" the older man snapped. Mitsuru knew not to disobey that tone; he was out the door and down the street in seconds. Shinsei shot a fearful glance at his son again, then stepped back in the doorway. Houjun's father, as collected as always, delivered his orders with quick precision and total calm. "Come in. Let's get him back to his room. Yukari, get some towels from the kitchen - we're going to need a lot. Hikou, start talking."
The young man nodded sharply, stepping out of the rain and into the Ri home. He glanced down, noticing that he was creating a small puddle on their polished floor, but neither parent seemed to care. Hikou followed Shinsei down the hallway to Houjun's room, gasping out his false story as he went. "It's all my fault," he said immediately, feeling he needed to acknowledge that now, above everything else. "I told Houjun to meet me at Kampai - y'know, that bar in the market? - because he's been so tense recently and, you know, I just figured... I didn't think there'd be any harm in a few drinks, and all, just between friends to loosen him up a little, and... ano..."
Shinsei shot a small, reassuring smile at the young man, helping him as he eased Houjun's limp form onto his bed. "It's all right, Hikou, I used to do the same thing." He accepted a couple of the thin cloths Yukari handed him, mopping at some of the blood and water on his son's face while Yukari tried to staunch the bleeding a bit. He glanced up at Hikou again, smile replaced by a confused frown. "But how in the world did all this...?"
The dark-haired man nodded again, glancing towards Houjun's open window and gathering his lies together. "Oh, right... well, the two of us were, uh, screwing around a little bit, getting ready to head home... we were already soaked anyway, so we figured we'd take the scenic route back to our houses, through that shortcut in the forest, and all... neither of us was drunk or anything, don't think that, we just weren't looking where we were going, and it was wet, and there was this..." he swallowed, fiddling with his hands nervously behind his back. How was it that he could be such a good salesman and such a terrible liar? "There was this log, uh, right next to the path... we were talking, teasing each other, not paying attention, and Houjun slipped... Houjun slipped and, and one of the branches that was sticking out, he came down hard on it, and the next thing I knew he's yelling in pain, and there's blood all over the place... Didn't know what to do, I tried to get the bleeding to stop but it just got worse... he passed out a little while ago, probably from the pain and cold... figured I'd get him back here, didn't know what else to do, sir..."
"Calm down, Hikou," Shinsei said quietly. "You did the right thing, bringing him home. Doctor Suzunami will take care of everything else. Houjun will be fine, so why don't you go on and head home now, your family must be worried..."
Hikou chuckled a little. "Nah, Nee-san's used to me being out of the house at all hours." He shot a worried glance at his best friend, biting his lip. "If it's all the same to you, Yukari-san, Shinsei-san, would it be all right if I stayed here? With Houjun? I don't want... I'd like to be here when he wakes up, if that's okay."
Yukari watched the young man pacing the room, clearly terrified for his companion. She smiled gently, nodding in agreement. "Go ahead. Maybe it would be best for him, when he wakes up, to have you here with him..." she looked down again, frowning at the jagged gash across Houjun's face. She didn't like the look of the cut - it was a deep wound, and deepest where his left orb would have been. Yukari knew enough about injuries to know her son would probably lose his eye. "Yes. I think that, after a night like this, nothing could be better for Houjun than having a friend nearby."
"Make that two friends."
All eyes jerked towards the doorway, widening in surprise as they found a drenched Kouran standing in the hall. She gripped a thick black bag to her chest as her chocolate-brown eyes scanned the room quickly, falling almost immediately on Houjun's still form. She dropped the bag in her haste and dashed to his bedside, grabbing his forearm and staring with horror at the blood-drenched cloth over his eye. "Oh, gods, when Mitsuru said... I didn't really believe... but... oh, Houjun...!"
"Ojou-san [Daughter], what'd I tell you about that bag? I only let you come along because Shindou-kun's out of town..." Suzunami Yasunori, Kouran's father and the village healer, entered the room in a flurry of blue robes and greying hair. He picked the black bag up from the ground, dusting it off hurriedly. "If you're not going to help, then I'll send you right back home. There are some breakables in here, you know..."
"Doctor Suzunami," Yukari breathed in relief. "Thank you for coming so fast. Houjun's seriously injured, we can't get the bleeding to stop, and-"
He smiled at his friends, bobbing a quick bow to the pair. "Mitsuru-kun told me a little on the way over. Let me through, I'll take care of everything." He glanced over his shoulder, forcing a weak smile. "Hikou-kun and Kouran can help me if I need anything. The two of you are going to have your hands full in a few seconds."
"What do you mean by-?"
"Doctor Suzunami's here!" Mitsuru yelled needlessly, entering the room with his little sister in tow. He scowled at the younger girl, then turned pleadingly to his father. "Make her go back to bed, Otoo-san. I accidently woke her up when I came in and now she won't leave me alone."
Kyoui blinked in surprise, turning her wide eyes on her parents. "What's going on? How come the doctor's here? Is everybody okay? Nii-san said something about Houjun's eye. He's gonna be all right, isn't he? Isn't he, Otoo-san?"
Shinsei ushered the two children out of the room, his wife at his heels. "We'll explain everything in the kitchen, kids. Let's just leave Yasu - er, Doctor Suzunami - to his work."
"But 'Too-san..."
"What about Onii-chan...!?"
Doctor Suzunami sighed, leaning over Houjun and studying the wound. He alternated between normal conversation and medical notes as he kept up a constant stream of chatter, to keep himself focused and Hikou and Kouran from panicking. "Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that my Yumi only gave me on child? Oh, goodness, this is messy, but it isn't nearly as bad as I first thought. Really, I could barely handle one in the house, but three? Houjun ought to be all right as long as I can stop the bleeding quickly - he's lost quite a bit, I'm afraid. And with Shinsei always away, I don't know how they pulled it off. Yes, his life isn't in danger, though he's going to lose that eye, no question about that... Pass me my bag, one of you."
Kouran's hand flew to her mouth as Hikou did as the doctor requested. "Otoo-san... he's, he's going to... his eye...?"
Yasunori, always practical, nodded as he rummaged around for his supplies. "Oh yes, it's gone for good... can't imagine what could cause such a strange injury, you'll have to tell me about it later, Hikou-kun..."
The young woman stumbled backwards into a chair near Houjun's bed, blinking in surprise at her father's statement. Houjun was going to lose his eye... the eye that had been causing him so many painful headaches... and Hikou had said that their battle on the river had cost Houjun more than just his village...
"Oh, Suzaku," she whispered quietly, suddenly all too aware of what had happened that evening, of what horrible visions her beloved had seen... of what horrible event he had relived, both literally and figuratively. She covered her face in her hands, taking a deep breath and attempting to steel herself for what was going to come. The storm outside was beginning to taper off, but Kouran knew all too well that the storm Houjun had been battling for so long was only going to get more violent. More violent, and much more painful.
iMud, water, and blood. That was all that was left of his life, all that he was aware of anymore. Mud, water, and blood.
Mud, the mud from the riverbank that his best friend had slipped on, that had crumbled below him, that had sent him to his death. Mud from the ground, staining his clothes and skin as he lay on this small road, too weak to move, waiting to die.
Water, water that had taken his closest companion, that Akura Hatsuko had said had taken his fiancee and her family. Who else had it destroyed? No one knew exactly. And he no longer cared. Water that still dripped feebly from the sky, covering his wet form in another blanket of chill, making him shiver helplessly as the cold seeped into his bones, feeding the fever that was already beginning to rage within him.
And blood. Hikou's blood. Kouran's blood. Perhaps even his family's blood. And his own, oozing stubbornly out of his eye, refusing to stop until there was nothing left to come out. Until he was as dead as his friend, as his beloved, as many other villagers. That was how it would end. There was no other answer, not when he was this weak, when he couldn't even support his own weight. Not when he had no desire to continue living.
The incident from the night before - oh, gods, had it only been half a day? It felt like a lifetime - played itself out again and again in his fever-ravaged brain, forcing him to watch the painful scene until it was forever engraved in his tormented mind. Hikou's hand, slipping from his own... his head going under the water, staying under for so long... for too long... until...
"Hikou..." he whimpered, half-closed eye staring forward into nothing. The hand that cushioned his head gripped the ground weakly, but his eye remained dry. He had run out of tears to shed. He had nothing left to give for his sins, nothing left to sacrifice in penance but his life. It looked as if this evening would take that, too.
"Oh, Houjun-san, I'm so sorry," a female voice said above him. Akura Hatsuko, he acknowledged. Kouran's aunt, who had found him on the riverbank. Who had urged him this far, trying to get him to the survivor's camp, until he had finally collapsed, physically and mentally unable to continue. She had left his side briefly, explaining that she would go to the village to find someone to help her. She must have come back. How long had she been back? Ah, what did it matter? He was too far gone to be helped, now.
"The others are too... preoccupied with their dead," she said gently, though somewhat bitterly, "to bother helping the living. No one's going to come for you, Houjun-san, and I cannot carry you by myself." She touched his damp shoulder lightly, urging him to continue. "Please, try to get up, Houjun-san. It's not far, maybe a five minute walk at best. If you make it, perhaps we could save you, but if you stay here..."
Houjun didn't answer. He had not directly spoken to anyone since the flood. He reached out one hand and grabbed Hatsuko's wrist lightly... or, or was it Hikou's wrist? a part of him wondered hopefully. No, no, just his mind playing tricks on him. He closed his eye halfway, heaving a deep, shuddering breath and squeezed her smooth skin lightly in his hand, trying to find some kind of peace in the gesture. But he did not rise. He barely had enough strength, enough desire, to even breathe.
"Houjun-san..." Hatsuko pleaded. "Please, I've already lost my husband, brother and niece. I don't want to see another life ended because of this terrible flood..."
She continued to beg him for his assistance, but Houjun was no longer listening. He turned his thoughts inwards, away from the battered street, the weeping skies, even the desperate woman above him. Tried to turn his mind to happier times, wishing he could die with the sight of Hikou's mischievous smirk instead of his terrified eyes on his mind; wishing he could think about Kouran's loving smile instead of her heart-wrenching tears.
...Hikou...
...Kouran...
...Why did you do it...?
...Why...?
A new voice interrupted his thoughts, one he had never heard before. "Oi, Oba-san, you all right?" the man asked in a thick mountain accent. "Somethin' we can do for ya?"
Hatsuko glanced up, drawing her hand away from Houjun's shoulder as she did. "Oh, thank goodness! You two must be a gift from the gods!"
Another voice chuckled slightly. "I doubt that, but we'll see." There was a pause, then a whistle. "Suzaku. What happened t'this guy? He yer son or somethin'?"
The older woman lied easily, knowing they were more likely to help her if they believed the two of them related. "Iie, my nephew." Which would have been true, Houjun thought numbly, had his engagement become a reality... had the whole thing not been such a sick delusion... oh, Kouran...! "He's too weak to walk to the nearby camp, and I cannot carry him myself," Hatsuko sniffled. "Tasukete kudasai [Please help me]. This flood has taken so much already..."
"Sure, Oba-san, no problem," one man said gently. "Look, we'll carry him there, okay? You go back t'the camp an' set up a bed'r somethin' for him. Oi, Kazuki, you grab his other side. We'll heave him up on th' count-a three - if you c'n hear me, kid, help us get ya t'yer feet..."
Without knowing why, Houjun did as the man asked. He stood, swaying slightly on his tired legs, as the pair looped his unresponsive arms about their shoulders. They began to walk forward; Houjun automatically stepped with them, only vaguely wondering why he was trying to move towards safety when all he wanted was death. His vision clouded over as his fever worsened; he dropped his head, forgetting about the world around him and letting a fog of despair descend upon him.
They walked like that for an indiscernable amount of time. His eye still bled weakly, but he barely noticed the lances of fire that raced through his face anymore. Pain was something he had become very familiar with over the past two days; he thought that there was no way anything could hurt him, now. Not after that kiss. That betrayal. That flood. Nothing could hurt like that. Not even death.
... Then die, so the rest of the pain can end as well... a part of him demanded. Yet another part of him kept moving forward. Somewhere in his withered soul, he still wanted to survive. Even after his living nightmare, he was not ready to die. Not now. Not yet. Not when his family might still live...
One of the men said something. Houjun didn't hear his words. It took the young man a moment to realize they had stopped walking, that the pair of strangers had released him and that he was standing shakily on his own two feet. Someone stood before him, though he did not glance up to see the newcomer's face. What did it matter? Nothing mattered anymore. Hikou was dead.
"I'm sorry," the young man in front of him said in a calm, deep voice full of compassion and understanding, "but I won't be able to heal the wounds on your heart."
Heal? He must be a doctor, then, some part of his mind registered numbly. It made no difference who he was. He was beyond hope. His eye reflected his spirit: ravaged with infection and covered in grime. No one could save something that desecrated. Perhaps a talented doctor could preserve his life. But none of them could stop the disease that ate away at his soul.
The tall man reached up, placing his left hand across Houjun's bloodied visage. Without knowing why, he immediately relaxed at the gentle touch. Instinctively, he knew to trust his life to this person, this stranger that felt oddly familiar. For just a moment, the young man forgot his sorrows, allowed himself to be comforted by the friendly touch...
Houjun continued to keep his eye on the muddy ground as he felt a tickling sensation cover the left side of his face. It was a pleasant sort of itch, as if his ripped skin was being pulled back together, restored to normality. He realized that the blood that had been dripping from his gash had stopped flowing; realized with growing surprise that the wound felt as if it had been sealed...
The warmth spread from the surface of his face, going deeper, searching for the source of the wound. It encountered his damaged eye, the destroyed nerves, the center of his pain, and set to work to right these wrongs, as well. The strange, tingling feeling grew in volume, began to fix injuries that couldn't possibly be fixed now...
No! Houjun thought suddenly. He wouldn't let it go back to the way it was. He wouldn't let this unusual doctor wipe away the result of that sinful night. His heart would forever carry the grief; it was only right that his eye should mirror the jagged scar that ripped across his soul. This would be his reminder, he decided bitterly. A reminder to himself and others about his true self, about the true color of his heart. Murderer, it would tell others. Sinner, it would scream at him everytime he saw his reflection.
He would not forget this nightmare. He would not let himself forget.
The young man shoved the doctor's hand roughly away, not meeting his eyes as he shook his head, just slightly. No, he said silently. This is enough. My life is enough. But let the wound stay. Please. I earned it. I deserve it. Let it be.
The young doctor seemed to understand. He said nothing more to Houjun; just stepped back and allowed the young man to totter weakly by, heading for one of the many tents that dotted the survivor's camp. He would rest, for now. He would live, for now. He owed the kind healer, the youth who had given him a moment's relief from his overwhelming grief, that much.
Funny, he thought as he collapsed onto a pallet, aided by the guiding arms of Akura Hatsuko. I never saw his face... never even learned his name...
He shivered heavily against the chill that clung to his clothes and heart, letting himself forget about the understanding doctor and focus on sleep, focus on survival. The young man slipped into a troubled, feverish sleep, dreaming of broken promises and shattered trust. Throughout the night, his hand grasped his thin blankets weakly, as if he were forever trying to catch his best friend's hand, one final time.
Shinsei and Yukari, after assuring Mitsuru that he wouldn't miss anything interesting and promising Kyoui that Houjun was going to be just fine, finally managed to get their two youngest back to bed and asleep. They joined Hikou and Kouran in their son's room - Doctor Suzunami had left quickly, as soon as the young man's life was out of danger - and waited for him to awaken.
It was almost dawn by the time Houjun finally began to stir. Kouran, who had been holding his hand the entire night, and Hikou, who had been pacing the far side of the room restlessly for almost as long, both watched their friend hard, waiting to see what his first reactions would be. They visibly tensed, terrified about Houjun's unknown condition, expecting the worst... but at this point, what was the worst...?
Houjun's eye fluttered open halfway, blinking a few times to accustom itself to the dim candlelight that bathed the room in a soft, warm glow. He found himself staring into the worried faces of his mother, father, and beloved. The young man frowned at the dull ache in his left eye, trying to pull the hazy pieces of his most recent hours together. "What...?"
Yukari's tight face broke into a small smile. Her son was awake. He was going to be all right. "Oh, Houjun, you're okay. Thank goodness. I was so worried..."
The young man heard nervous footsteps nearby; someone else was in the room. He tried to turn his head, to sit up and see who it was, but his father pushed him back to the bed somewhat forcefully, still frowning a bit. "Easy, son. You've lost a lot of blood; you shouldn't try to move right now. Is there anything you need, anything we can get you?"
Houjun winced. The left side of his face was pounding more forcefully, now that he was awake; he brought a hand up to his eye, only to find a thick strip of cloth covering it. A bandage? But why...?
"What happened?" he finally asked groggily, single eye closing. The headache wasn't quite as bad when he didn't have to look at anything. "Why'm I here? And all of you."
Kouran had still said nothing, knowing that the sight or sound of she or Hikou would probably trigger his memories, would probably force him to remember the nightmare he had viewed, the nightmare he had lived. She did, however, squeeze his hand comfortingly as Yukari sighed. None of them had wanted to bring this up yet. "There was an accident last night. You remember, don't you, Houjun?" his mother asked gently. "When you slipped, and you hit that treebranch..."
Treebranch...? Yes, careening down a river, unknown to his eyes, because he was focusing on something else...
"...passed out from the pain and the bleeding, and Hikou, well, he brought you back here..."
Hikou...?
That's right, he had gone out to the river, looking for answers.
Hikou...
Those visions had attacked him, though they were a bit blurry now... like something was blocking him out... but his best friend had fallen into the river, hadn't he? His best friend had slipped into the current, and, and... oh, oh gods!
HIKOU!
"...lost your eye, I'm afraid... oh, but Houjun, it doesn't matter really, as long as you're alive and safe..."
"Hikou..." he muttered quietly, deaf to his mother's words. His heart wrenched as his widened eye glanced about the room, desperately searching out his best friend. It was all a dream... it had to have been a dream... Hikou couldn't have... he couldn't have...
Another figure appeared in his limited range of vision. A head of dark blue hair, concerned maroon eyes, thin lips that were now pulled into an uncharacteristic, worried frown. Hikou. Houjun relaxed visibly, if only for a moment. His best friend was still alive, he hadn't fallen into the river, he hadn't drowned at all! That was just a dream, just some stupid dream...
Kouran let her hand fall from his, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank the gods, he was going to be all right, after all. She allowed a small smile to cross her face, mentally chiding herself for her foolishness. After an injury like that, of course Houjun would be hazy on the details of his visions. Of course he wouldn't remember the vivid emotion. Of course... of course.
Almost as soon as the young woman's hand left that of her beloved's, Houjun's clouded brain cleared with surprising quickness. He stared up into his best friend's face, single eye widening as all the horrible details, all the horrendous visions and pain came screaming back to him, filling his mind with last night's horror all over again...
Hikou had fallen.
Houjun had watched him die.
He had killed him.
The young man's frightened mahogany orb stared blankly ahead, past Hikou, past the walls of his house, and far away into another world, another reality, another memory that could not possibly be his. But it was. All of it, every last evil detail belonged to Houjun. Whether it was the future, the past, or something else altogether... none of that mattered. It was still his own. Rage. Battle. Murder. All his. All his.
Tears fell silently from his remaining eye, trailing gently down the side of his face to mingle with the dried blood and dirt on his shirt. Mud, water, and blood. Sins, tears, and death. He felt his heart crumble, felt his self-control and will-power collapse deep within himself. He was a murderer. He was scum. He had killed Hikou. Just like before. Always like before.
"Naze da...? Naze da...?" he sobbed quietly, breath coming out in short, terrified gasps. How could it have happened? How could he have let it happen? Why hadn't he been able to save him with the same power that had saved himself? Why had he let go at all? How could he do it?!
Hikou had fallen.
And Houjun had killed him.
"Naze da!?" he demanded harshly, closing his eye and screaming his anguish out in those two short words. His hands gripped the warm blankets beneath him vehemently, trying to rip answers out of the cloth. After a brief moment, he collapsed back to the bed again, breathing heavily and crying uncontrollably.
Hikou stumbled shakily away from the bed, dark eyes wide with surprise and fear. That look Houjun had given him, that look full of disbelief, horror, and overwhelming guilt... like his soul had been ripped to shreds, like he had willfully let it be desecrated like that... "My gods," he whispered to himself. "My gods, Houjun, is that what you felt when it was over? Is that what you had to live with for so long...?"
"Hikou," Shinsei said quietly, but surprisingly sharply, "I think it would be best if you went home, now. Your sister must be getting worried. There's nothing you can do for Houjun, now."
The young man read the message behind the politician's silky words. "Just the sight of you did this to him. Get out." They must think he had done something terrible to their son. They weren't far from the truth, he realized painfully. He tried to protest, but knew it would do little good. "But I-"
"Please," Yukari interrupted, turning to send a meaningful glance at him. "Houjun's sick. He needs rest. Please leave."
He nodded hurriedly, feeling something wrench in his heart. Yukari had never looked at him like that before, had never given him that look that all the other parents shot at him. Street trash, it said. Son of the village drunk. Stay away from my child. You scum. Hikou looked down, gritting his teeth to quell his emotions. So, this is what would have happened, had the flood never been. Outcasted from even his best friend's home. He preferred death. "Hai, Yukari-san. I'll... check in on him, later, then."
Before Hikou could even move to the door, Kouran stood swiftly, her jaw set in a stubborn line as if she were forcing herself to remain calm. "I should go, too, I suppose," she said quietly. "I told Otoo-san I wouldn't stay all night, but it's almost dawn. Hikou... walk me home, please?" The young woman shot a glance down at Houjun, his single eye staring blankly ahead, the tears still leaking their way down his cheek. She should stay with him. He needed her, needed courage and her strength, now that his were so terribly weak. He needed her so much, more than ever before. Kouran gulped heavily. It was so much... just too much. "I don't think I should... be alone, on the way home..."
Yukari opened her mouth to issue a protest, but before she could say a word Houjun's beloved was down the hallway and out the door, as if by running she could escape the sorrow and dread that clung to her heart. Hikou wordlessly followed, stammering a hasty farewell to the Ri parents.
The young man caught up with her quickly; he jogged along beside her until she finally slowed to a walk. Hikou waited expectantly, knowing Kouran would never ask him to accompany her unless she needed to talk. Finally, after gathering all of her strength together, his childhood friend spoke.
"Our touch keeps him anchored to this world," she said, voice icily calm. "As soon as I let go of his hand, he remembered everything about those visions. That's good. At least now we have a more effective way to fight those annoying memories."
"Kouran..."
"Don't," she snapped. "Don't even say it. We're continuing with this. We're going to save Houjun from his other life, from the ongoing torment he had to face in that world. I promised myself that much, and you promised to help me." Kouran clenched her trembling fists at her sides, trying to grip all of her emotion into her palms and keep it at bay. "We destroyed his old life. So, let's not destroy this one. All right?"
"Okay," Hikou agreed gently, knowing it was useless to argue with her, now or ever. "Whatever you want, Kouran."
"Whatever I want?" the young woman asked, laughing humourlessly in an attempt to keep her voice from breaking. "What I want is to run back into that house and beg Houjun for his forgiveness. What I want is to hold him in my arms until his sorrows vanish, until he stops staring ahead so blankly, as if he's trapped in a nightmare that he can't wake up from... until he stops crying like he's just seen the end of the world, like his entire soul is shattering into pieces. What I want..." Kouran stopped walking, turning her head sharply away from Hikou so he wouldn't see the tears that poured relentlessly down her face. "What I want, Hikou, is to put together the pieces of Houjun's heart. To give the man I love his happiness back.
"But I can't do that," she whispered, sinking slowly to the ground as she sobbed out her frustrations. "I can't do that, because I was the one who caused it in the first place. Because I'm such a fool, such a coward... such a useless, stupid slut... that I can't even... I can't even..." Kouran curled her knees up to her chin, burying her head in the folds of her dress and crying like her heart would break. "Gods, Houjun, I can't even... be with you now, when you need me the most... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."
The young man felt a lump rise in his throat, as well as an almost insufferable feeling of remorse and pity for his female companion. Despite everything, he still loved her like the friend she had been. Despite everything, the sight of her so hopelessly lost still strung a chord in his heart. "Kouran, I'm the one who should be sorry... not you, never you..."
Hikou knelt beside the young woman and pulled her into a comforting, brotherly embrace. Kouran did not pull away, did not want to pull away; she simply leaned her head into his shoulder and wept quietly, praying that the dawn would bring some hope, that the morning, like the tears on her cheeks, could wash away at least part of her pain, at least a part of her fears and worries.
Praying that, when Houjun needed her again, she would be strong enough to stay by his side until a new day arrived.
*****
Author's Mundane Ramblings: December 23, 2003; 12:30 AM
Hao, minna-san!
I know, I know, this chapter is weeks and weeks overdue, and I can't begin to apologize for such an atrocity. The usual string of excuses, I'll not bore you with the details, I just hope you can forgive me for keeping you in suspense for so long.
Random Chapter Comments Wow... that was pretty intense, huh? I warned you that the "shiznit would hit the fizan" - I wasn't far from the truth, was I? One can only wonder what more I could possibly do to poor Houjun-chan. The answer? Well, let's just say my sadistic little mind can still come up with a few things... Oh, and on a totally random note, the bar Hikou mentions, Kampai? Yeah, it roughly translates to Cheers. That's a terrible joke, and I apologize in advance, but I just couldn't resist.
Oh yes, I'd also like to thank Roku-senpai, who once again I probably and "accidentally" bounced an idea off of - I had already decided that Houjun would have to be provoked in order to attack Hikou, but it's very likely that the first chapter of "Bridge" influenced exactly how he would be provoked. So, to Roku-senpai: sorry for the idea-bouncing and thank you for your wonderful fanfics!
Fact Vs. Fanfiction One detail I figured a lot of people were wondering about was the "dream memory" where Houjun is saved from death by the young doctor, who, as I bet you all figured out, was Mitsukake. So, was this a real event, or did it come flying out of my imagination? Actually, it's fact! In "Oumei Den," the Mitsukake (or "Juan") Gaiden Novel, this particular event really happens. In fact, so finicky am I about accuracy that I asked Tetris no Miko to translate the scene (thanks a lot!) so I would know what I had to work with! Naturally, I expanded it a bit, emotionally and all, but that's the basic story! Still don't believe me? Fine, then you can read the "Oumei Den" scene, and view a beautifully sorrowful picture drawn by Watase Yuu-san of Mitsukake and Houjun's meeting. It's worth seeing - the picture is amazing! The links are under my homepage link, so go check 'em out!
Answering Reviews Welcome to the crew, Riverwood-san! I hope you stick around for this fanfic - the updates are a bit spread out, but I certainly hope the story quality makes it worth the wait...
--To Fire Pendant-san, on the following questions: "Does Kouran know what will happen if Chichiri stays in that world? What about Tasuki and all his other friends, does she know how much they'll be affected by Chichiri's death?" In answer to the first one, yes, she knows. But, as you've probably noticed from her inner monologues, she's under the impression that by keeping Houjun in the dream world and eventually killing him, she's actually saving him. This is because someone *cough*Asatenshi*cough* has convinced her that Houjun's life has become absolutely miserable, and this is the best thing she can do for him. As for the second question, no, because as far as Kouran knows Houjun is alone, friendless, and terribly unhappy. See, Kouran's not bad, she's just misled!
--To Weaselgirl-san, on the following question: is Chichiri/Houjun/whatever going to wake up before the flood, ect. or his he going to re-live it? And then will he relive meeting the seishi and then all of them kicking the bucket and then relive meeting Hikaru and then relive being caught in the wierd dream thingie and then... I really don't think you're gonna do that... are you? Of course I couldn't do that. That'd be way, way too easy, and you should all know by now that I'm way too stubborn to ever do anything the easy way.
Question of the Week Has the author run out of "FY" questions? (The answer would be "yes" *Sweatdrop*)
You're Belated Author,
Dee ~_^