Photos: Breakthrough

Fiction: Yellow Flowers and a Bag of Bones

Chapter six: The guiding star

“Request granted. You are no longer marked,” the clerk said sourly, glancing up at me from behind her square, silver-rimmed glasses. Normally her attitude towards me would make me testy, but this time I just smiled, taking the permit she offered me. “But I can’t give one to the boy,” she continued, shooting Rei an equally sour look. As if he had done something wrong.

“Very well,” I said, thanking her again before hurrying back out. I couldn’t explain it, but I never liked going to the Town Hall. It was always too quiet, too empty, and there was never anyone there apart from the same disapproving clerk. I had never even seen the red rabbit in there; even if I knew that she always came from the Town Hall when she was giving out warnings and marks.

I handed the permit card to Rei, letting him take a look at it. It had taken me a while, but finally I was allowed to venture outside the city. About damn time – I promised myself to never get marked again; it was far too much of a limitation. However, as long as I kept my job and didn’t catch the attention of either the Town Elders or The Four Sisters, I should be fine. I hoped.

“Are you going out of the city?” Rei asked as he handed the permit back to me. I shrugged, not completely sure of the answer myself. On one hand, I’d love to get out of the city, it was needed for further research, but on the other hand, it wasn’t as if I was in any particular hurry. Ixero was pretty nice; I could see why people settled here.

“Not yet, I think. I’ll wait for a while. I have my shift at the Bookstore Inn today too, you know,” I told the boy, who actually looked relieved. Apparently he was getting used to having me around, just like I was getting used to having him around as well.

Damn my interest in all things out of the ordinary. They were messing up my plans far too much.

I said goodbye to Rei and headed to work, though what I hadn’t told Rei was that I wasn’t working the full night shift, just a few hours until Miss Karen took over – she had decided to have a slumber party with books in the store, and I wasn’t exactly the right person to run something like that.

It was already getting dark when I went outside the gates for the first time since I entered Ixero. It felt strange to be outside the city again. The wall that went around the entire city did a remarkable job of shutting the view out – even from the highest buildings it was pretty much impossible to look outside, and the most you saw was a few treetops and some grass-covered hills, along with tall buildings in the distance.

I smiled as I looked around the area; it looked exactly like when I had been led in by the blue rabbit, except that it was far darker, with small lamps lit all along the various pathways. There weren’t that many people out walking now, but I could see a few. The first thing I did was to go off the pathway, heading over to the spot where I had met Dakota on my first day. As I had expected, there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen, apart from the fact that the spot was now covered with a blanket of new marigolds. I bent down and picked one, holding it up to the faint light and examining it, but it didn’t give me any answers. Predictably enough.

“Marigolds, the Day of the Dead and disappearing people,” I muttered to myself, not quite finding the connection. I could add yellow roses, The Four Sisters and the mysterious star I had seen to the mix as well, but I still wouldn’t get any answers.

As I started walking back towards the pathway, a star on the horizon caught my eye – it was a different one from the one I had seen a few nights ago, that much was clear. This one was smaller, in a completely different place, and it wasn’t blinking like the other one. The color was also different; the other one had been yellow, this one was bright and white.

I thought it might be a stupid idea, but seeing as I didn’t have anything else to do for tonight, I started walking towards it. There was no point in investigating any of the other cities, not in the middle of the night, and going home wasn’t all that interesting either.

So I fastened the marigold in my hair, drew my coat closer around me, and walked.

It took me a long time to get to the point where I had the star directly above me. Several times I thought about giving up and just going home instead – Rei would be worried if I wasn’t there in the morning. However, there was something about the small star that intrigued me too much to give up.

Eventually, all the other pathways dropped away, leaving only one narrow path, a faint line in the grass that signified that other people had walked this way, even if it couldn’t have been all that many. I walked up a small hill and glanced up, the star directly above me, and then walked almost face first into a small hut.

“Welcome, Kaiemi,” a voice said, and even if I looked around, it took me a while to spot the rabbit sitting in the grass, next to a small fire. The rabbit was green.

“You’re the green rabbit,” I said, astounded. Of all the things I had expected, this definitely wasn’t it. The red rabbit was the only one who had mentioned the green rabbit, and I had started to think that she had just been joking with me. But this proved that there was indeed a green rabbit.

He gestured for me to sit down, and I chose a flat rock next to the fire, glad for the tiny amount of light, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to see him at all. “I didn’t think you existed,” I said, unable to think of anything smarter to say. If I had known what the green rabbit’s function was, maybe I would have been able to ask something intelligent, but as it was, I could only stare at him in amazement.

“That’s because I’m a secret,” he replied, sounding amused. Already I could tell that he was generally more cheerful than both the blue and the red rabbit. Maybe that meant his function was a more fun one, though there was already a rabbit for handing out rewards – the purple rabbit. She did her job well, and she did always laugh, but she didn’t seem to be thoroughly happy.

He cocked his head, giving me a more serious glance. “You have to swear that you will never reveal my existence to anyone, understand? Not even The Four Sisters know about me, that’s how secret I am. Got it?”

I nodded, even more fascinated now. I hadn’t thought there was anything that The Four Sisters didn’t know about, so this was a big surprise. “I promise. I know how to keep a secret, I won’t betray yours.”

“Good. Then I won’t betray yours either.”

I did a slight double-take, looking back at the rabbit with wide eyes. “What do you mean, my secret? My only secret is that I have Rei living with me, and that’s hardly a secret,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I couldn’t afford blowing my cover, no matter if the green rabbit was known to The Four Sisters or not.

The green rabbit laughed, shaking his head. “I know more than you think, Kai. I know what your plan is for coming here. I know what your objective is. I have known since the first day you came here. Don’t worry; I have no interest in causing you trouble. In fact, I want to help you.”

Quite frankly, I didn’t know what to believe. I’m not used to trusting people, and even after all the time I had spent with Rei, I didn’t trust him completely. I had, for instance, not told him about Dakota, or about what the yellow roses supposedly meant, and I spent quite a lot of time lying to him about where I was. Maybe it was a cruel thing to do to a kid, but I had my reasons. And trusting a mysterious green rabbit I had met just mere moments earlier didn’t strike me as the smartest move in the world.

He could apparently sense my apprehension, because he sighed, but then smiled again. “You don’t trust me, do you? That’s okay; I think I would have been more worried if you had. With your goal, you shouldn’t trust anyone. I didn’t bring you here to get you to tell me things I already know, anyway.”

“Then why did you bring me here?” I asked, almost annoyed.

The green rabbit laughed. “To tell you things you don’t know, of course. For instance where The Four Sisters live. And who it is who has been leaving yellow roses at your doorstep. And where your little Rei really belongs.”

I gaped. Literally gaped. It seemed like the green rabbit really knew far more than anyone else I had met so far, and more than The Four Sisters, whom I hadn’t met yet. “Go on,” I said, far more eager now. I still didn’t trust him, but I didn’t have a particular reason to not listen to what he had to say, either.

“First off, The Four Sisters live in Xibiri, in houses located right next to each other. There’s one white, one light blue, one light green, and one yellow. It’s the Sister who lives in the yellow house who has been leaving you the roses,” the rabbit said.

“Why has the Sister been giving me roses?”

He snorted, amused. “Who do you think I am, Yoda? God? I don’t know everything, some things you have to figure out on your own. I don’t do emotions or reasons, I just do facts. Facts that not all that many others know about. I’m sure you could figure it out on your own, though, if you had just worked a little harder.”

I wasn’t quite sure whether I should feel offended or not – I was sure he was right, but still, he made it sound as if I had just been lounging around the entire time I had been here. Which was definitely not true. “What about Rei? Where does he belong?”

“Ah, yes. He’s quite the mystery, isn’t he? Adorable little mystery, though. All I know that originally, he was registered in Hirax, but I sincerely doubt that you’re going to find the answers to that particular mystery in this place, if you get my drift. I suggest you go to Apple Street, in The Plains, and see if you can’t find some answers there,” the rabbit said, and hopped into the little hut, coming back out with two bottles and a small book.

He gave me one of the bottles and drank from the other himself, holding it between his paws, before he put it down and took up the book instead. “This is a book of little facts that I have learned while I’ve been here. Cheats, if you will. There’s nothing illegal in here, I made sure of that, otherwise The Four Sisters would have found out about it. I figured you could use it, I don’t really need it anymore,” he said, and offered me the book.

I took it with a small nod, flipping through it quickly. From what I could see, there was lists of city names, codes to the gates so that you could get in without a permit, lists and maps of secret passageways so that you could get in and out of the cities without even being seen, lists of clerk officials, even lists of Town Elders and some of their functions.

Oh yeah. This would definitely come in handy, that much was certain.

“Thank you,” I said, almost overwhelmed. I still couldn’t understand just why the green rabbit would give me this book, why he seemed to trust me. “I can’t possibly repay you for this, it’s… It’s very kind of you.”

The rabbit smiled, drained the rest of his bottle and got up. “Trust me. It has nothing to do with kindness. Normally, I’d say that I would find some way for you to repay me, usually with information, but I don’t think there will be any need for that this time.”

He paused and looked up at the star above our heads, sinking slowly down towards the hill we were on. I put the book in my coat pocket, determined to find somewhere safer for it later – even if it wasn’t technically illegal, I was fairly sure that if it was discovered, I would get marked for eternity. Wouldn’t be a good thing. “Are you sure? I’d be happy to do something in return; I’m not used to getting things for free. I think I’m more suspicious of being given something for free,” I said, smiling a little over myself.

He laughed and caught the star, which had somehow shrunk as it fell towards us. It was still shining just as brightly and nearly blinded me before the rabbit put it into a small black box, stowing it away into the little hut. “I’m sure. I’m pretty sure I won’t be around for much longer, I’m afraid. The Four Sisters are close to finding out that I exist and who I am, and once they do, I won’t be in this place for another second. Actually, I’d prefer to get out before they find me.”

I nodded. “I’d say that’s a very good reason to get out. So giving me this book is a way of handing over your legacy?” I felt stupid asking that kind of question, it made me feel like I really was talking to Yoda.

“No, far from it. You and me are very different, Kai. I just wanted to find out the secrets and use them for fun. You… Well, you want something completely different, don’t you?”

I nodded again. “I guess you can say that, yeah.”

The green rabbit gave me a little poke, ushering me to get up. “I’d ask you to stay longer, but The Four Sisters have scouts out looking for my little star now. They don’t like it when there’s a star competing with theirs.”

“What?” I asked, a little too loudly, slamming right back onto the rock. “Their star? Do you mean… I saw a yellow star a few nights ago, is that---“

“Yeah. It’s a sign from The Four Sisters. Sometimes it’s up during the day as well, but of course, it’s far more difficult to see it then. Technically, they don’t have to put it up, they could have managed just fine without it. But they like to send messages,” he answered quietly and put out the fire, plunging the whole area into near total darkness.

I got up, squinting into the darkness to make him out, but it was impossible. “But what is it for?” I asked impatiently, because he was being far too evasive for my liking. “I mean, they don’t just put up a star in the sky and make if flash like that just for fun, do they? If they’re sending a message, what kind of message are they sending?”

Silence. “Hello?” I asked, uncertainly this time, and walked around in a small circle to find him.

The green rabbit was gone. Vanished without a trace, along with his hut.


~tbc~

Photos: Sepia

Photos: Red

Artsy shot: Light and dark

Photos: New

Fiction: Yellow Flowers and a Bag of Bones

Chapter five: The lost memories

“I don’t know, Kai, I don’t think this is going to work.”

I sighed. We had gone over this at least a dozen times over the past two days, ever since I came up with the idea, and Rei’s constant doubts were starting to get on my nerves. “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But it can’t hurt, right? You want your memories back, and well, they have to be in there somewhere. I could try beating them out of you, but I’m fairly sure that counts as child abuse.”

“I’m not a child!”

“Not the point, Rei.” I sighed again, wishing that I could get the boy to just relax and go with the flow here. Usually he was pretty good at that, but not this time. He actually looked scared, and took my hand as we walked down the narrow alleyways, winding our way through Ixero to find the right building. I felt like pulling my hand away, but because he was so anxious, I let him hold it.

“I don’t like doctors,” he whispered.

“How can you know that,” I replied. “You don’t have any memories; you can’t know whether you’re really afraid of doctors. Maybe you actually love doctors and like to sit in their offices all day long.”

Rei pouted and kicked my leg. “Don’t be mean. I know what I’m afraid of, and I’m afraid of doctors.”

“Well, this isn’t a real doctor, so just take it easy. Besides, he’s not going to hurt you, and I’ll be there the entire time.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” I smiled to the boy and ruffled his hair, not letting go of his hand even as we reached the right building. Twelfth Street, fourth house, second floor. I knocked on the door and waited for the “come in” before entering, almost dragging Rei with me.

He really, really didn’t want to do this.

The doctor looked them over when they entered, a small smile on his face. Granted, I didn’t have much faith that this would work either, but I figured that it was worth a chance. Rei had claimed over and over again that he didn’t believe in being hypnotized, so there was no point in this, really. I was inclined to agree, especially when I saw the guy’s “office”, which was filled with all kinds of esoteric stuff. It looked more like we had stepped into a psychic’s tent at a circus than an actual licensed doctor’s office.

“Welcome,” he said, getting up and shaking both mine and Rei’s hand, even if Rei looked like he wanted to run out the door. I nudged him, quietly telling him to behave.

“I’m Dhiman Devarsi, and this is really very simple,” the doctor explained. “All you have to do, Rei, is to lie down, relax, and listen to my voice. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe you have to focus a little every now and then, but apart from that all you have to do is to relax. Is that okay with you?”

Rei hesitated, but nodded eventually. He had agreed to this, after all. Dr. Devarsi made Rei lie down on a couch, and turned the lights down almost all the way, as well as lighting a couple of candles and placing them on the table next to the couch. I very nearly laughed, because I was starting to have less and less faith in this whole deal, but as the doctor – how the fuck this guy could call himself a doctor was a mystery to me – glanced over at me and pointed to a chair, I shrugged and sat down. We were here already, after all, no point in storming out again before giving it a chance.

Rei looked uncomfortable, and he shifted around in the couch for a while before being satisfied. Doctor Devarsi started out by telling him to focus on a spot on the ceiling, and then to just listen to his voice. I focused my eyes on Rei’s face and listened as well, seeing as there wasn’t much else to do, and it was a testimony to how good the doctor was that I started feeling drowsy, heavy and content as I listened to his voice. He was telling Rei to relax, to just focus and relax his body, part by part, and yet, even if it was Rei he was talking to, I was doing the same thing.

I pulled myself out of it by sitting up straighter, looking around the office, blocking out Doctor Devarsi’s voice so that I would be able to actually witness Rei’s reactions instead of digging up old memories of my own; that would just have gotten messy.

Finally the doctor was done, and he settled back, watching Rei with great interest. By now the boy had closed his eyes, and I wondered if he had fallen asleep. The doctor didn’t seem to think so, though. “I want you to answer all my questions honestly, and without doubt,” he said, voice still calm even if I could detect tension in the way he was sitting. “There is nothing to be afraid of, nothing will happen to you. All you need to do is to answer the questions. I’ll start easy; how old are you right now?”

Rei hesitated, brows furrowing slightly. “I’m twelve, but… I’m not twelve.”

“What do you mean?”

“My body is twelve, but I’m older. I don’t know what it means; I just know it’s the truth.”

Doctor Devarsi looked vaguely confused, but he didn’t let the answer confuse him for too long. “And what is your name?”

“Rei.”

“Is that your real name?”

“No, I… I’ve forgotten my real name. I don’t know what it is. I want to know what it is,” Rei replied, almost sounding impatient. It made me wonder if the hypnotizing had worked even remotely.

“Okay, that’s good,” the doctor said, which almost convinced me that he was a quack. “Now we’re going to try an experiment. You can still relax, there’s nothing to fear. I want you to go back in time. It’s your birthday, and you’re five years old. What is happening? Who is with you?”

Rei’s expression changed almost instantly, becoming more peaceful, happier. Even if I had seen him both smile and laugh in the time we had spent together, I hadn’t seen this kind of innocent happiness on his face before now. He laughed, sounding younger somehow. “I’m with my mommy and daddy, and the rest of my family. Lots of my friends too. I’m having a birthday party with a big cake. Chocolate. I like chocolate cake.”

“That’s good. What’s your name?”

There was a small hesitation, but then Rei answered. “My name is Raphael Gramont. My daddy named me that. It was his older brother’s name, his brother died when they were little.”

I took a deep breath, finally convinced that Doctor Devarsi actually knew what he was doing. This was more than I had gotten out of Rei since we met. Thought I had to admit that thinking of him as Raphael would be next to impossible; he’d probably always be Rei to me.

“Good. Now, you’re ten years old. It’s still your birthday. What’s happening this time?” the doctor asked, his voice trembling slightly. He was probably just as tense as me, even if he hadn’t known Rei as long as I had.

Rei bit his lip slightly, his expression sad this time instead of the joyful, innocent happiness he had expressed when he remembered his fifth birthday. “No one remembers that it’s my birthday. I’m not happy, ‘cause my dad hasn’t even remembered it. He’s angry again, angry at me. He’s always angry now.”

“Why is he angry?”

“Because my mom died. She died over a year ago, but he’s still mad about it. He blames me, I know it. I know he does, but it wasn’t my fault, I swear, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Rei said, his voice rising at the end, and there were tears in his eyes.

Doctor Devarsi moved forwards, took one of Rei’s hand in his. “Hush, don’t be scared, nobody can hurt you. You’re in a safe place. Just relax, and remember. That’s all. Nobody is mad at you.” Rei relaxed slightly, though he sniffles quietly, still clearly upset. “What happened to your mother? How did she die?”

The question was asked carefully, almost gently, but Rei still shook his head. “No. I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want to, don’t make me, it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t do it, please, don’t make me lie and say I did it.”

“Okay, okay, that’s fine. I won’t make you say anything more about your mother,” Doctor Devarsi said and looked at me, shaking his head. Apparently it would be impossible to push the boy further on that point. I sighed, but nodded and gestured for him to go on.

“This time, I want you to remember your twelfth birthday. What’s happening?”

Rei scrunched up his face in concentration, and then shook his head. “It’s all black,” he said simply, though quite frankly, that was an answer that didn’t really make much sense.

“What do you mean, it’s all black?”

“There’s nothing there. I’m nowhere. There’s nobody with me. Nothing exists. It’s all dark and warm. I like it,” Rei replied, sounding almost dreamy.

Doctor Devarsi looked puzzled, as if this was something he had never encountered before during his sessions. “Go back a little. Before everything goes black. What happens?”

The scream took both me and Doctor Devarsi by surprise. Rei started thrashing on the couch, his breathing quickening, and even after the first scream he kept making little scared and pained noises. I looked at the doctor, but he seemed just as surprised as me. “Rei, what’s happening? Is anyone hurting you?”

“My dad… Dad, stop it, I didn’t do it! Please, don’t hurt me. Daddy, please! I didn’t… I didn’t…” Rei’s uncontrolled ramble turned incoherent, and it became impossible to understand what he was saying, but he started writhing, almost fighting against Doctor Devarsi, who could barely hold him down.

I couldn’t watch this anymore, and stood up walking over to help hold Rei down. “Stop this, bring him back,” I told the doctor, who was reluctant to comply, but it was obvious to me that we couldn’t keep doing this to Rei.

“Listen to me, Rei. Relax. I’m going to count to five, and then you’ll be back here with me and Kai, okay?”

Rei relaxed slightly with each count, but it wasn’t until the doctor reached five that he finally stopped struggling, sinking back against the couch cushions, opening his eyes and looking up at me. “What happened?” he asked, still slightly out of breath, but otherwise looking bewildered, as if he truly didn’t remember anything that he had just said or done.

Doctor Devarsi explained to us that it was normal that Rei didn’t remember anything. “It’s clear that there is something very traumatizing in your past, something that has to do with your parents, and I think that your brain has blocked it all out, because it’s too much to deal with. There’s just one thing I don’t understand…”

“What’s that?” I asked while I helped Rei sit up and rubbed his back reassuringly, for once allowing him to move close to me. I still couldn’t understand why he found comfort in being close to me, but revealing his memories had made it clear to me that something had happened in his past, something that meant that he could use some comfort every now and then.

The doctor paused and went to look through a couple of books, but then shook his head. “The darkness. The fact that he was somewhere that was completely dark and quiet. I have never heard of something like that happening before, so I have to say that I have no idea what it might mean. If you’d like, we could try more sessions, but… I think it might be for the best to leave these memories buried.”

I nodded; I had come to the same conclusion. Granted, I still wanted to know more about Rei to find out where he belonged, but now we had a name to base our searches on; Raphael Gramont. “I agree. I think this was still helpful, though, so thank you.”

Rei was clearly impatient to get out of there, so I paid and said goodbye quickly before leading Rei back onto the sunny streets, filling him in on the things he had revealed. He didn’t look impressed, and scrunched up his face as he tried to get used to his real name. “I’m supposed to be Raphael? I don’t like that,” he complained.

“Me neither,” I said, smiling a little. “Are you okay with me just keeping on calling you Rei? I think I prefer that.”

He nodded, and took my hand again as we walked home. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t protest. My attitude towards him had definitely changed, there was no doubt about that, and I saw him less as a little, adorable pet and more as an actual person now.

There was yet another yellow rose waiting for us at the apartment when we got back. I sighed, and let Rei pick it up and join it with the others. I had exchanged the simple glass for an actual vase by now, and if whoever was behind this kept up leaving roses everywhere, my apartment would end up being overwhelmed by flowers. Over a week had gone by since we found the first one, and they showed no sign of letting up. It was driving me crazy, but there was nothing I could really do about it.

Another thing that bothered me was the fact that my name was still marked in the registry, and as long as it was, I couldn’t really do much. No one with marked names was allowed outside of Ixero, and I wanted to get to the other towns. Soon. This was one thing Rei couldn’t help me with; the only thing he could do was to keep the apartment tidy for me. Apart from that I let him do whatever he wanted – he was too young to get a job, after all.

I checked the listings in the Library every day, sometimes twice a day, but it took a long time before I finally found something. When I did, it was a fairly small job as well; clerk in a store that sold used books and office supplies. I had an interview, and put on my best behavior, trying to be nice and polite to the old woman who ran the store.

This apparently worked, seeing as I got the job. Quite frankly, I’d much rather be free and not have a steady routine, day after day after day, but for now, I had to go along with the rules. It wasn’t difficult to tell that even if a job wasn’t required, it was so strongly encouraged that I had yet to meet someone who wasn’t working or looking for a job.

The first day at work was, put simply, dead boring. I couldn’t understand why there was a need for a store that sold used books in the first place, but Miss Karen explained to me that rather than a necessity, it was something she had dreamed of doing for a long time. It had taken her years to save up enough money to buy the store, and now that she had it, she would never let it go.

The store was named Bookstore Inn, which was probably the reason I noticed the notice for the job in the first place. Catchy name, made me think of a Bed and Breakfast instead of an actual store. It was a small store, there was no denying that, but I thought that it had far more personality than the couple of big bookstores in Ixero.

Still, there were hardly any customers, and I spent most of my first day walking along the aisles, dusting off books and re-arranging them alphabetically, as well as pricing the new ones and putting them into shelves as well. Miss Karen sold a fair amount of new books as well, in addition to comic books, manga, magazines and offices supplies – she told me that it was the only way she could manage the upkeep of the place. In addition, she had a couple of reading groups, one for children and one for adults, and they both gathered once a week to read and discuss books.

I didn’t care much about the details, I had to admit, but I thought that if I had been a different person, I would have loved working in a place like this for the rest of my life. If only I hadn’t been so restless, so driven to find answers, so tempted to sneak a peak behind the curtain to find out how things worked behind the scene.

On the third day I worked, I had agreed to taking the night shift. Miss Karen chose to keep the store open all night, because in Ixero, people were always awake, always looking for something new. Most of the stores and restaurants stayed open all night long, every day of the week, three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. It was weird, but also kind of nice – if you needed something, you could just go out and get it, easy as that.

I sat in one of the comfortable armchairs by the store window, reading a magazine seeing as there were nobody in the store, nor had it been anyone there for the past two hours – something which made me decide to take the night shift more often – when I noticed something strange outside.

Granted, nothing should be strange in this place, but this was at least unusual. Normally, there would be no stars whatsoever in the night sky. This time, however, there was one large star in the sky, blinking slightly. I watched it for at least ten minutes, entranced by the slow steady blinking, before it disappeared as suddenly as it had showed up.

Just as I was about to focus back on my magazine there was a bright flash of light, coming directly from where the star had been moments earlier. The flash of light was so intense that it left me blinded for a few seconds.

Exactly like when Dakota disappeared.


~tbc~

Photos: Black and white

Artsy shot: Joker

Photos: Bright lights, big city

Photos: Infatuation

Profile: Yuurin

Name: Yuurin
Name meaning: Deep forest
Type: Luts Juri '06
Age: Around 25 in appearance, ageless.
Race: Forest nymph, an Elemental.
Nationality: Japanese in origin.
Sexuality: Relatively straight, though he’s open for experimentation.
Eyes: Forest green.
Hair: Neon green, fairly short but extremely thick.
Distinguishing features: Tattoos on his legs and back.
Clothing style: Simple and casual. Lots of greens, grays and browns. Often kimonos and other traditional clothing.
Occupation: Guardian of the forest to the south of Saitama.
Lives in: The Plains, though he prefers being in the forest.
Likes: The forest, flowers, trees, grass. The spring and the summer, when everything grows and thrives. Gardening, walking in the forest, animals and birds.
Dislikes: The autumn and the winter, fire, stone and steel, big cities, concrete, big buildings, cars. Pretty much everything that's modern.
Personality: Bubbly and sweet-natured, has a funny way of speaking that alienates a lot of people, but he's not really bothered by that. He can be a tiny bit ditzy and forgets to do serious things very often, but he’s still a good friend and a good father when it counts.
Relationships: Lu Chu's father. Watches over most of the others from the sidelines. Contact with Vasuman (fire vs. earth). Hangs out with Min at times.

History:

Artsy shot: Red rum

Fiction: To being an 'us', instead of a 'them'

You find yourself smiling from behind your drums, keeping the beat steady without having to put much effort into it. Playing the drums have always been something you've had a talent for, ever since you were little; it comes as naturally to you as breathing. Getting used to playing with others, following other beats than just your own was more difficult, but you got used to it and now it feels more strange to play alone. You could do this for the rest of your life. A life that your family hates you for choosing, but you don't care anymore. You don't need them anymore. They're not your family now.

You look out over the room, across the stage and down at the audience. It's a good night; the small club is packed with people. You know that it's at least partly because your band is playing. By now you have a pretty good reputation; playing live at clubs all across the city, performing at concerts here and there, you even have a single out that you put out yourself, with your own money and on your own record label. None of you think you'll ever hit it big, but you don't care. You don't really want that either, none of you do. You like your lives, you're perfectly happy with being a small indie band that everyone around here knows.

You smile faintly as you watch the girls dance and flirt with and fawn over both Aaron and Vintersorg. They're the popular ones, much more than you are, but you don't really mind it. Being in the background suits you a lot more, anyway. Besides, you have your fans too - you never cease to be amazed at just how many girls seem to like your looks, your music, the fact that you're quiet and hardly ever speak to any of them. You try to be polite with the girls and guys that come up to you after your sets are done, talking to you and asking you questions and admiring you. Admiring you. It's an amazing feeling, one you love, and in those instances you'll open up, just a little, smiling at the one you're talking to, and somehow that seems to make them like you even better.

As the song goes over into another one fluently and easily, you change the rhythm, close your eyes, lean your head back. You don't really need to keep your eyes open to know what to play, not anymore. By now you know both Aaron and Vintersorg's ways of playing so well that it's like a second heartbeat to you. The two of them are so different from you, from each other, from the fourth member of the band that's not there anymore, but you all get along surprisingly well. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes Aaron and Vintersorg will argue, and usually they won't stop until you step between them, stopping them right before they resort to a fist fight. You know they love each other as if they were brothers, but they do fight like they're brothers as well and it drives you crazy at times.

But you never complain. A part of you is still slightly afraid of being pushed away, even if you know you belong just as much as they do. You know that Aaron would defend you and stick up for you no matter what, and Vintersorg... At times he's a mystery; cold and distant and acting like he doesn't care about you at all. But other times, you'll catch him looking at you with such love in his eyes that it almost makes you cry, and you know that you'll be with him forever. It's just one of those things. You'd never be able to exist apart from each other.

Vintersorg turns around in the short pause between two songs, where Aaron talks to the crowd, getting excited cheers in return. You smile, first at Aaron because you know he hates this kind of thing (but secretly he feeds off it as well), and then at Vintersorg, your smile widening. Vintersorg is never as beautiful to you as when he's on stage. He looks confident and wild and like he's capable of anything imaginable - and you know that he is exactly like that. You know that at least half of the girls, and some of the boys, standing on the floor wish that they had what you have. Wish that they were his. That they belonged to him like you belong to him.

Not all that long ago, you were afraid. Afraid that you'd lose him, that he'd be bored with you, that he would throw you away like a toy that simply wasn't interesting anymore. You don't think like that anymore, though. You're not really sure what changed, or if anything really did change. Maybe it's just you, that you've gained the kind of confidence you never had before you met Vintersorg. The kind of confidence he always wanted you to have. He used to tell you that you were an idiot, that everyone else had been idiots so far for making you feel like you were worthless. You merely smiled at him then, slightly embarrassed, and switched the subject because you weren't comfortable talking about those kinds of things with him.

But now, things are different. Vintersorg is still looking at you instead of at the crowd, and you grin at him and blow him a kiss. He looks surprised for a split second - usually it's him giving the public displays of affection - but then he laughs and stops playing, rounding the stage and walking behind the drums to give you a proper kiss. Aaron looks back to the two of you and rolls his eyes, but keeps going as if it's perfectly normal for his band mates to make out on stage. The crowd goes silent for a split second before they starts cheering and applauding - you're not really sure if they think it's just fan service or if they realize that you're actually a couple, but you don't really care.

You raise your arm and curl it around Vintersorg's neck, holding him there, kissing him back so eagerly that when you finally let go, he looks at you with a surprised smile. "So naughty," he says with a smile before walking back to his place in front of the drums, beside Aaron. Aaron looks over at him and then at you, looking a tad bit frustrated, but he makes a joke of it to the audience and then you continue playing, as if nothing ever happened. And you notice that the girls in front of Vintersorg have somehow multiplied now; it makes you laugh because girls are so predictable. You already know they'll be fawning over him even more than usual after the show, and half an hour later, the girls prove you right.

It's already past midnight when you're done playing, but you stay in the club for a few more hours, chatting and drinking and dancing. You mostly stay at the bar, sipping cheap beer - Vintersorg would buy you the more expensive stuff, but you like this. It reminds you of being a teenager and sneaking out; spending all the money you had on the few bottles of crappy beer you could get your hands on. You watch Aaron talk to girls; they chatter on an on and he stays his usual monosyllabic self, and it makes you laugh. Vintersorg spends half his time flirting with every girl and guy in the club, and half his time with his hands either in your hands or underneath your clothes, and it makes you laugh even more.

There's a pale light on the horizon when the three of you walk home; Vintersorg in the middle, holding your hand, Aaron on the left, a few paces away from the two of you. You're all headed for Vintersorg's apartment, because that's where the kids are, and you already know that instead of waking them up, you'll quietly roll out a couple of futons and sleep on the floor, letting the kids have Vintersorg's bed. Aaron will roll his eyes and take the couch, after warning you not to do anything he doesn't want to see or hear. It's the routine you've gotten used to now, and the routine you love. You glance at your friend, your lover, and then out over the city that has stolen your heart and soul away forever, and you feel happy. Genuinely happy.

It's been a good night.

~fin~

Photos: Fuck off

Artsy shot: Black and white

Artsy shot: Hands

Photos: Delinquent

Artsy shot: Girl

Fiction: Three (part one, chapter four)

Chapter four: Devil’s advocate

It felt difficult to manage to talk to Yukiko after that. She had noticed him, of course, but had merely smiled and waved slightly – first at him, then at Arai, and not for the first time he was struck by a powerful need to punch his adoptive brother. Instead he merely glared from Arai to Yukiko and back again before he stormed out, not having a particular need or desire to watch possibly the only love interest he had had for years take her clothes off in front of a bunch of men drooling all over her.

Kenji refused to speak to Arai for days. Though when Arai came home late one evening with his clothes torn, looking unusually bruised, bloody and shaken, Kenji melted – even if the way he tended to Arai’s wounds was rather harsh, rougher than necessary. The strange part was that Arai didn’t seem to mind; he hardly even seemed to notice that Kenji was there.

“So now you’re not going to talk to me?” he finally asked, noticing that he sounded rather like a petulant child. It took a few seconds before Arai turned his head and looked at him, and for once he looked tired. Kenji couldn’t remember having seen Arai tired in months, maybe even years.

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m not in the chattiest mood ever,” he replied quietly, looking away again. “You haven’t talked to me for days, don’t you dare be mad at me. Not tonight. I’ll argue and bitch with you in the morning, but not tonight. Okay?”

Before Kenji had the chance to answer, Arai got up and walked into his room, actually locking the door, as if really signaling that he didn’t want to talk tonight. It made Kenji feel deflated. And also more than a little worried.

However, the next morning Arai acted like nothing had ever happened, and just like every other time he had been in a serious fight, most of his bruises and cuts had nearly healed overnight. When they were younger Kenji hadn’t really thought much of that, but now that he wasn’t working and Jun wasn’t home, it was so much easier to notice these little details about Arai.

He didn’t get to ask Arai about it though, seeing as he was merely grinned at, and then Arai asked if he had called Yukiko yet, which made him forget everything about Arai’s weirdness and made him want to kill the damn idiot. Hardly a new feeling.

It turned out that his and Yukiko’s meeting hadn’t been that much of a coincidence after all, seeing as Arai had told her about Kenji and said that he would be at the bookstore that day. It was all Kenji could do to not smack Arai for setting him up, and with a damn stripper, no less. He had his standards – and even though he had gotten past the fact that she was of her kind, the fact that she was a stripper and lord knew what else was actually much harder to deal with. Arai called him a stubborn, uptight, repressed imbecile, and Kenji responded by really smacking him over the head, not exactly proving his intelligence.

Most likely it would have ended up in an all out bitch fight just like when they were kids if the phone hadn’t rang right then. After giving Arai a final smack over the head, Kenji went to take it, grinning a little to himself as he answered.

It was Heath. The Redmon portfolio had been recovered, finally. It had been Paige, home on a weekend trip and coming in to work with her parents, who had found it at the bottom corner of the toiletry supply cabinet, where nobody had even thought of looking. Kenji sighed a little in relief, but Heath wasn’t quite done with him yet.

“We can’t just let you come back, Kenji. There has to be consequences. We think we’ll be able to save the deal, but not without sacrifice. Now, I want you back, because you’re good, and this has to have been someone’s idea of a bad joke or something like that, but…”

Kenji understood him – it would reflect badly on the firm if he simply got his job back, no questions asked, so he suggested that maybe he should have a month’s probation, and be watched by Sinclair and Nanette; it would enable him to work, but it would also keep him in check. Not that he had done anything wrong, but it should prevent anything from happening again.

For a few moments, there was silence on the other end of the line, before Heath agreed, but Kenji also had to agree to getting his salary cut, and there would be no chance of him ever advancing further in the firm. Before this, he had been the most likely candidate to take over as director when Heath quit, sometime in the future, but now that would be impossible. Sounding as if he didn’t like it one single bit, Heath told Kenji that he would be required to sign a contract that he’d never try to advance in the firm.

This time it was Kenji’s turn to be quiet, but finally he said yes – what other choice did he have? There was no way he could afford to start all over somewhere else, and this was what he knew how to do, the thing that paid the rent, the electricity, the phone bill, Jun’s tuition, their food and clothes and everything else. He simply couldn’t put Arai and Jun in jeopardy because of his own pride. Granted, Arai would probably manage just fine on his own, but Kenji still saw him as his responsibility. Old habits die hard.

It was strange for him the next day, when he returned to work. Just like when he had left, his co-workers were staring at him. As if he was still a suspect, as if they thought that he had actually hidden the portfolio merely to screw the firm over. Sinclair and Nanette didn’t think like that, though, something which Kenji was happy about. They both greeted him as if he had never been gone, and once again he realized just how much he enjoyed their company.

They had come from France many years ago, when they were just teenagers and newly married. Sinclair was tall and dark and serious, while Nanette was small and petite, vivacious and bubbly and bright. Their daughter, Paige, was the perfect combination of the two of them. Kenji secretly wished that he could have a family like that one day. A wife and a daughter or son instead of two brothers who at times were more trouble than anything else.

Seeing Sinclair and Nanette again, how they were so perfectly attuned to each other, made him think of Yukiko, a small tremor going through him. Was he making a mistake in not calling her? She had called him a couple of times after he had seen her, her job, but she had merely left a message on his answering machine, telling him to take his time and call when he was ready. If he didn’t call, she would move on – no hard feelings.

Kenji didn’t really like the sound of that, but he couldn’t bring himself to call her either. It was impossible to find the right solution, it seemed. Sighing, Kenji went into his office, burying himself in work again – it had been his solution for years, his way of avoiding the things he didn’t really want to think about and deal with. It didn’t fail him this time either.

A few days after he had started working again, Kenji got a phone call from a reporter. There wasn’t really anything new in that – reporters tended to call them at least a couple of times a week; for comments to stories, for small interviews, for help with some fact that they couldn’t dig up themselves. Kenji was used to these phone calls, but he sighed a little anyway as he heard who the reporter was. Loki.

Not that there was anything wrong with Loki – in fact that was probably what was wrong with him. Everyone liked Loki, but nobody really trusted him. He seemed to be everywhere at any time, and he had information that nobody ever understood how he managed to get. It was easy to feel uncomfortable around him, though after five minutes, most people would let down their guard and tell the blond Nordic man everything he wanted to know and then some. Loki was the perfect reporter.

“Hey, Kenji, long time, no see. I heard you nearly got fired.” In the mouth of anyone else, an opening greeting like that would sound utterly rude, but when it was Loki is simply worked, and Kenji chuckled softly in response.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s right. Though technically I was just suspended, you know. What do you want this time? I haven’t even been back for more than a few days, I can’t possibly know something you want the answer to,” Kenji said, feeling more than a little wary at the moment, afraid of messing up, of making that one little mistake that would end everything for him.

“No, no, nothing like that. You know I’ve written about your form before, right? Taken the firm in general, and then interviewed the director, then the French couple, and a few other important people. Now it’s only you and Ming Yue left, and I have a feeling I won’t be getting a word out of him. So I’m settling for you.”

Loki’s rapid stream of words wasn’t always that easy to catch up with, and when Kenji finally does realize what the reporter just asked he looks rather mortified, and it apparently translates into his silence as well, seeing as Loki rushes to reassure him that it would be nothing bad. Apparently he merely wants an insight into how Kenji got to where he is today; maybe talk a little about his family and things like that. Loki swore – a little too quickly – that he was not looking to cause trouble for Kenji at all.

Still a little bit apprehensive about what might happen, Kenji agreed after quickly asking Sinclair about it, who didn’t see why it should be a bad thing. If anything, it was free publicity and that way Kenji would be able to tell his side of the story. Maybe it would help clear things up, maybe free Kenji’s name and make the co-workers stop staring at him in that distrustful way.

So he agreed. Hesitantly.

Still, no matter how uneasy he had felt about it, as he met Loki for lunch and the interview at a restaurant nearby, it was difficult to keep up that level of wariness. Loki’s way of rambling, of asking small questions that really didn’t have anything to do with the interview at all, the way he’d laugh and change the subject ten times in the matter of seconds – it all served to make Kenji relax, even if he had a feeling he was going in the exact same trap as hundreds of others. Loki really was the perfect reporter.

He had interviewed Kenji a couple of times before, in relation to the firm and to his co-workers, so they knew each other fairly well, even if they hadn’t met each other outside of an official setting. This was the first time that all the focus was on Kenji, and he felt a mixture of nervousness and joy over being able to talk about his job, how he had gotten it and how he had stuck to it, slowly rising in esteem and getting ahead of his competitors. It felt good to talk about how he hadn’t messed up – how he had no idea what happened, but that he was sure that he hadn’t done anything wrong whatsoever. Loki seemed to be particularly interested in his suspension and what had happened surrounding it, and he seemed to know awfully lot about the Redmon portfolio, but Kenji didn’t really think twice about it. Someone like Loki would have connections; after all, that was no surprise.

Gradually the interview – which felt more like a casual conversation – went over to more personal things. Once again Loki was incredibly informed; he knew about their parents, he knew that Kenji had been taking care of his two younger brothers, he knew that Jun went to the Yamada School, he even knew about Arai – and his troubles with the police. This time Kenji was more apprehensive about answering straight out, especially when it came to Jun and Arai, but he willingly talked about how he had taken the responsibility for them, how he had raised Jun without any help from someone besides friendly neighbors. A little part of him was thinking that maybe this kind of interview would help him with the social services – would they dare to take Jun away after he had talked about him like this in Saitama’s biggest (and only) newspaper?

It took ages before Loki was satisfied, and still there were things that he hadn’t gotten Kenji to open up about; mainly concerning Arai and the police and everything he was up to. Kenji had merely answered lightly that he didn’t know what Arai was up to most of the time, and that they hardly saw each other because when Kenji was home, Arai was out, and vice versa. It was at least partly true, so he didn’t feel too bad about the little lie.

Even though he sort of trusted Loki, Kenji couldn’t help but feel nervous about the interview – seeing it in print would be strange indeed, and of course – he really had no way of knowing what Loki would make of the things he had said. As far as he knew, he hadn’t said anything that would be dangerous, so to speak, but reporters did have an uncanny knack for twisting someone’s every word, taking it out of context until a compliment sounded like the worst insult in the entire world and then some.

He was right to have fears. Nanette dropped the newspaper off at his office, an unreadable look on her face. It made Kenji uneasy, because usually she’d be laughing and joking around – especially if he had said something silly. She even closed the door behind her on her way out. Definitely not normal.

After taking a deep breath Kenji unfolded the paper, not expecting to see anything about himself on the first page. Which was why it was more than a slight shock to find that he was staring down into the image of himself, ten years younger, and the only thing he could think was; How the hell did Loki get that picture?

There was a smaller picture below, of him in the restaurant; with his hair tied back in a loose ponytail, with his black suit and white shirt and the red tie that matched his hair perfectly, and he looked serious and professional and all those things he had tried to be for the past ten years. And then having to come to terms with the other picture… Kenji almost didn’t dare to look at it again, but it felt as if it was screaming, asking for attention, attention, attention.

It hit him that he nearly looked like Arai on the picture. Not in colors or in appearance, because his hair was red and his eyes were green back then and his face was definitely his, but the look in his eyes was utterly different. He looked wild like Arai, he looked confident like Arai, he looked like he didn’t give a fuck about what anyone thought of him and like he would do anything and everything he wanted simply because he could – just like Arai.

Kenji heaved an almost scared sigh and read the intro underneath the picture, finding himself go cold. It was an interview all right, but it was more than that – this was an exposé. He had a feeling that this would uncover every single detail about his past without going too much into the present, and as he opened the paper with slightly shaky hands, he found that he was absolutely right. Scarily right.

There was a cold sense of dread in his stomach as he skims through the paragraphs written about himself, about his life, about his past. He has no clue how Loki managed to uncover all of this, but he can’t deny that every single word of it is true, all too true. And as he reads through it, he gets hit once again how much it seems like he’s reading about Arai, something which would have made him smile if he wasn’t so terrified about what this would do for his reputation; and even more so, what it would do for the case the social services had against him and his family.

He doesn’t think that his past should matter, but Loki managed to make it sound like he had raised Arai to be like him, and that he’ll make sure that Jun grows up in the same way, and once they’re all grown up, he’ll go back to being like that as well. Those hints actually do make him smile, almost sadly, as if he wishes he could turn back that easily. What wouldn’t he give to be careless and rebellious again? What wouldn’t he give to not have to worry about work and money and bills, about schools and tuition and making sure that his brothers had the kind of life that their parents had intended for them? What wouldn’t he give to be young again?

It didn’t even take an hour before his phone rang, an overly concerned voice that annoyed him too much suddenly being in his ear. Even if he had waited for it, he didn’t particularly like it, and he made a mental note of calling up Loki later on and bitch him out for having written this, for having stirred up the parts of his past that he had buried and forgotten.

“Miyazaki-san, I’m sorry to call you during work hours, but I’m too concerned to leave it until later,” the voice said, and Kenji recognized it as one of the two women that had come to their apartment, looking around disdainfully as if he had been living in a pit. He grimaced, glad that it wasn’t possible to see through the phone line.

“I think I can guess what you were so concerned about, Nakamura-san,” he replied dryly, and continued before he got bombarded with questions and reprimands. “The article, right? Before you start with your concerns, let me just say that I did not know he would be writing those things about me, though I don’t deny that they are true. Apart from the hints that are made at how I’ve raised Arai and Jun badly. It should not matter who I was ten years ago. What matters is who I am now.”

He knew that he sounded a lot more confident than he felt, because the fact was that Kenji felt terrified – the current problems might be more than enough to get Jun taken away from him. It all came down to him, to his ability to sort things out. Jun didn’t know about it yet, and Arai was sure to not be much of a help, after all. He was Arai, he couldn’t help himself. No matter if he wanted desperately to help.

Kenji was brought out of his thoughts by a sigh from the other end of the line, a rather impatient one. “I’m afraid you’re wrong. It does matter who you were, it makes us worried that the boys in your care have been brought up wrong, that they will be causing more trouble because they have been left in your care. We’d like to make up for the mistakes made before it’s too late, and we---”

“Are you kidding me?!” Kenji couldn’t help but interrupt, almost standing up because this was honestly pissing him off. Maybe half losing his temper wasn’t the best policy at the moment, but he was not going to be talked to like that. “They have been in my care for ten years. Arai is twenty-three; Jun is turning sixteen in not too long. What on earth would be the point in taking them, or rather Jun, away from me now?”

There was another sigh from the other end of the line, something which quite honestly pissed Kenji off even more; even though he managed to keep his cool – starting screaming down the phone wouldn’t exactly do him any good at all.

“We would be getting the boy away from what we believe is an unhealthy surrounding, Miyazaki-san,” she replied, all too softly, and Kenji shuddered. “He has potential; we have looked into him extensively. He is at Yamada High, is he not? Half scholarship, even, and that from a school that usually never gives out scholarships. But lately his grades have been slipping, did you know that?“

“Yes, I’m very aware of that, and it’s not---”

“Please, Miyazaki-san, don’t interrupt me, you’re only making this worse for yourself,” the Nakamura-san said silkily. Kenji was sure that if she had been here, he would have ended up slapping her. Hard. “Jun’s grades are slipping, and he’s not integrated socially. As we have found out, he is a bit of a loner, very shy. This worries us. There is something else too, but I won’t go into that. But there are suspicions that he has been abused in the past.”

This time Kenji simply couldn’t manage to respond at all. Having to listen to someone say those things, to accuse him and quite possibly Arai, of abusing Jun… No, that was too much. He was very near slamming the phone down, but managed not to, merely taking a few deep breaths instead.

“Nakamura-san, I suggest you weigh your words carefully when speaking to me. Do not accuse me of things there is not an iota of evidence for. If you knew me, if you knew us, you would not be saying this. I assure you, Jun has never been mistreated in any way while he’s been in my care. He is my little brother. I love him more than I will ever love anything in this world, and I’d rather die than have anything happen to him. Maybe that doesn’t mean much to you, but it does to me, and it does to Jun. If you take him away and place him with some foster family… He’ll never survive it.”

Kenji heard the half desperate tone in his voice – more out of fear for Jun than himself, because he knew that what he was saying was very true. Jun was far too sensitive to be dragged away from the only family he knew, the only ones he trusted. Just going back to the boarding school he had been going to for over two years now was like torture to him; and that was with knowing every nook and cranny of the school, with knowing all the students and all the teachers.

“I assure you, Miyazaki-san, there is no need to be so dramatic. I’m sure that Jun would be fine. Maybe he would even thrive in a new environment. But I can tell that we’re not getting anywhere with this. I have more – a lot more – to go talk to you about, but I’d rather not do it over the phone. May we meet? Preferably in your apartment, so that I can survey Jun’s surroundings properly.”

There was a moment of tense silence before Kenji gave in, nodding tiredly. There was no way out of this, he knew as much, but he still dreaded it, dreaded what kinds of things the horrible woman might have dug up from his past and his present. “Fine, we’ll meet in my apartment. What about tomorrow evening, at six? I’ve been working pretty late this past week.”

“Yes, yes, that sounds good, although I’d make it at seven, if you don’t mind. I too am working late. Your case is a very time-consuming one,” Nakamura said with such a satisfied tone of her voice that it led Kenji to believe that she had made up her mind about whether or not to take Jun away already. Again feeling very scared, he agreed to the slight time change and said goodbye, as politely as he could manage at the moment.

His eyes drifted down to the paper again, once again skimming over the article as he tried to calm down and think rationally about the whole matter, even though that wasn’t easy. Only a few dislodged words made it to his consciousness, though they were more than troubling enough. He found himself muttering quietly while he pondered the problem, glad that his door was closed.

…love for rock music….wild parties…..guitarist…..breaking the law…..

“I’ve done nothing wrong for the past ten years, which has to count for something. It has to. And they are both doing well. Well, pretty good, anyway. I guess that maybe, just maybe, they can make the argument that Arai has grown up to be the person I used to be.”

…reported incidents….problems….a dangerous element….artistic, no focus….

“But all Arai lacks is focus, he’ll sort it out once he’s done with his partying phase. He’s already straightening out, don’t they see that? No, of course they don’t, all they see is the police reports and him dropping out and not being serious at all. They don’t know him, they don’t know how caring he is, how friendly and sociable. They don’t get that stuff. Arai tells me that I don’t get it either, but I get it. Oh, I get it more than he knows.”

…talents above normal….never amounted to….now, with the focus on responsibility….

“I have to talk to him, have a serious talk with him and make sure that he gives off a good impression. Force him into getting a job or something like that. And hope that he’ll manage to get out of that drug thing; otherwise I think we might be screwed. I guess I really should tell Jun too, but I don’t want to, not over the phone.”

….high profile job…respected….never looked back…family is the most important…

“I’ll wait until he comes home again, it’s only two weeks until then. I’ll explain everything calmly so that he doesn’t panic, and I’ll come with him back out to school; maybe talk to the principal again. I don’t like what’s been going on with him. If I’m lucky, everything else will have sorted itself out by then, so that he doesn’t have to worry. I’ll fix it. I’ll meet with Nakamura, I’ll talk to Arai, and I’ll talk to Jun. I will sort this out. I’m not letting them take Jun away from me. There’s just no way in hell.”

…for me, it’s all been worth it. These past ten years I have done everything for my brothers, Jun and Arai. They are the pillars of my existence. They are my life…


~tbc~

Photos: Devil child

Artsy shot: Glow

Photos: City boy

Artsy shot: Shadow

Fiction: Ten (Aaron)

He sits at a table in an almost deserted café, for once attempting to not stand out. Blond hair brushed down instead of spiked up, casual jeans and a black hoodie instead of his usual loud stage-clothes, pretending to read a newspaper instead of chatting loudly with friends. Tonight, Aaron doesn’t want to stand out. Tonight, he wants to escape for just one more day.

He glances at the watch above the café counter. Five minutes to midnight, the seconds ticking away slowly. Far too slowly. He sighs, and looks watches as a little kid with spectacular orange-red hair walks up to the counter, tries to buy food but is refused because she doesn’t have enough money. “You’re stupid!” she yells, and then she storms back outside.

Aaron shakes his head, wonders what a kid like her is doing alone in a café at this time of night. Kid had to be seven years old, tops, but possibly less. It’s not always easy to tell with children that age. He wishes that she hadn’t come in like this – even if she bears no resemblance to his own sons, she still manages to force him to think about them.

He can’t really afford to think about them, not now. He needs to stay focused, stay sharp, something which is rather difficult to do if he allows himself to think, to remember, to feel. But there’s no choice in the matter. He should have known what he was getting himself into. He thinks he should regret ever taking the two boys in, but he finds that he still can’t.

No matter how much he would like to deny it, Aaron knows that they are his life. They are more than his life.

And he wishes he could be at home with them now, instead of sitting here in the glaring neon lights that hurts his eyes. He wonders what they’re doing now. Nearly midnight; Minhwan is probably sleeping already. Seven years old, and the baby, the one everyone treasures and wants to protect. Aaron can imagine him, curled up on the couch with his head in Kanata’s lap, sleeping soundly regardless of the amount of chaos going on around him.

Jaejin, however, is probably still awake; it’s a nightmare to get him to sleep. He’s eight, and considers himself a grown-up already. Aaron thinks he’s probably sitting on the floor right now, in between Dominic and Vintersorg, playing video games with them and kicking both their asses.

“I should be there,” he mutters to himself; quiet, but not quiet enough, seeing as the man at the table next to him looks over at him. Gives him the kind of glance that makes Aaron very uncomfortable. There’s a reason why he usually spends his time either at home or in the various nightclubs and small concert halls they play, after all. He hates this. Hates being tense every single second, hates being worried that someone will recognize him, hates that his world might end any second unless he’s careful. Fuck, he spent his entire childhood being careful, he hasn’t signed on for the same thing for all of his life.

All he wants is some peace and quiet to take care of his sons and be with his friends and play his music. That’s all he wants. Aaron doesn’t think that’s too much, but he also thinks that there are a lot of people who don’t agree with him.

He looks down at his newspaper, reads the same headline for the umpteenth time. Nothing seems to register. Nothing apart from the man still looking at him, and the small glances he’s sure he’s getting from the staff behind the counter.

He wonders if he’s going insane, and smiles to himself, ever so slightly, because if Vintersorg was here he would tell him to chill – get a fucking grip, man, you’re behaving like a flower chick on a bad acid trip. The Vintersorg in his head might just have a point as well.

But the atmosphere still feels too tense, too awkward, so Aaron pays for his coffee and sandwich and walks out of the café. Quite frankly, he’s glad to leave it behind. He has never belonged in places like that, frequented by drunks and druggies and homeless people who have managed to gather just enough money for a cheap meal. That’s not his life, and he never wants it to be his life either.

And yet, it’s the seventh night in as many days which he has spent like this. Alone.

A few steps away from the café his cell phone rings, and he picks it up because it’s a call that he expects.

“Hey, Dominic,” he says quietly, walks away from the main street and the lamps overhead until he finds a side alley. He leans against the rough brick wall, shudders over the chill. Wishes once again that he could be home right now.

“Hey, Aaron,” comes the soft reply from the other end of the line. Dominic is always pleasant to talk to. He’s quiet instead of obnoxious, like Vintersorg. Of course, Aaron loves them both, they’re his best friends, but he has a bigger tendency of wanting to strangle Vintersorg, so they keep the nightly phone calls to a minimum.

“The kids are okay, they’re asleep. Well, Minhwan’s asleep, Jaejin is…”

“Difficult to get to sleep, I know. Just let him read in bed if you don’t want to entertain him any longer.”

Dominic laughs, and Aaron is convinced that he can hear Jaejin and Kanata argue in the background. Nothing new in that. “Oh, he’s the one entertaining us, don’t worry about it. When do you think you’ll be back?”

The question – although it comes up every night – makes Aaron’s throat constrict. He doesn’t want to keep giving the same answer again and again, but he has no choice. “I don’t know, Dominic. I can’t… You know it would be too risky for me to go home.”

Silence. For a long time. Then Dominic sighs, and Aaron can practically feel his sadness. “Aaron… The kids miss you. I know why you have to stay away, but… Couldn’t we find somewhere to meet? They really need to see you again.”

“I know, Dom, I know,” Aaron replies, and he’s not surprised to find that he sounds tired. He has gotten used to a life that no longer exists, and living on the run is far from as fun as it was over fifteen years ago. He knows how to do this, knows how to stay off radar, but he hadn’t counted on his family and friends. He really hadn’t thought they would make things so much more complicated.

“We’ve been keeping watch, checking the neighborhood. Vintersorg says that there’s nobody following us. It should be safe to meet somewhere, just for an hour or so,” Dominic continues, almost eager. It makes Aaron smile faintly – he thinks that Dominic might just be missing him as well, that this isn’t all about the kids. Or at least he hopes so, even if he still has to crush the hopefulness in his friend’s voice.

“You know I want to, I miss you all. I really do. But you have to trust me; I know what I’m doing.”

“Aaron---”

“No. I can’t, Dom. You know I can’t. It hurts the kids, sure, but it’ll hurt them more if I’m caught. So just stop it already, okay?” Aaron hates the hardness in his voice, hates that he’s ordering Dominic around just like Vintersorg orders Dominic around, and he’s on the verge of apologizing when Dominic sighs quietly on the other end.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just difficult to see the boys when they’re sad ‘cause you’re not there, you know?”

Aaron isn’t fond of the constricting pain in his chest, either, and he suddenly wonders if these nightly calls are really such a good thing. All they’re doing is reminding him that he’s not where he’s supposed to be, that he might lose everything he’s living for, that he might never see the ones he loves again. “I know,” he says, closing his eyes because he forgot how to cry a long time ago.

They’re both silent for a short moment, and even if Aaron is sure that Dominic is going to argue further, say something else, he doesn’t. “Well, okay, uhm… Everything else is okay, the boys are doing well, and they’re doing their homework and practicing. Apart from you not being here, we’re all okay.”

Aaron nods to himself; he doesn’t expect Dominic to tell him anything else – there’s not reason why they wouldn’t be okay, after all – but it’s still nice to have it confirmed. In a strange way, it helps him believe that he made the right choice in running away. “I’m doing alright too,” he replies. They both know that it’s not the truth, not really, but what else can he say? It’s not like he can tell Dominic about the sleepless nights, the constant nagging fear, the anger and the frustration. They don’t talk about things like that, they never have.

“I hope we’ll get to see you soon,” Dominic says quietly. Opts for not saying anything more about the boys, apparently. Aaron thinks he’s relieved – hearing more about what his sons are doing when he’s not there to see it tears him apart. Dominic sighs again, but then he laughs. “Vintersorg tells you to get your fucking head out of your ass and that you should fuck off home.”

It’s so strange to hear Dominic talk like Vintersorg that Aaron has to laugh as well. Trust that idiot to lighten the mood with a couple of sentences. “Tell him to mind his own fucking business, and that I’ll be home as soon as it’s safe. Talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”

“As always,” Dominic replies, and then he hangs up.

Aaron snaps the cell phone shut and shoves it back into his pocket before he pushes himself away from the wall and starts walking down the street. He does his best to look like anyone else who might be inclined to wander the streets around midnight, tries to look as inconspicuous as possible. As inconspicuous as it’s possible to be when you’re walking down a nearly deserted street at midnight, that is.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, he tenses up automatically. It’s not that it’s unusual for others to be walking around at this time of night, but his nerves have gotten a bit frayed over the past week. Besides, Aaron likes to think that he has a sense of danger by now (living with what’s practically a death sentence over your head can do that to you), and there’s something that’s just not right about these footsteps.

Pretending that he hasn’t noticed, Aaron speeds up slightly, hopes to get enough of a distance between them so that he can slip into an alley and avoid being followed. The person behind him picks up his pace as well, which is a clear-cut sign that he’s definitely not just wandering aimlessly down the street. And it’s everything Aaron needs to break into a run, sprinting down the road. He’s still confident; it’s not like it’s the first time he has out-run someone who is following him.

Not this time, not this time, not this time, Aaron thinks as he runs. He has avoided capture every single time before, there’s no reason why tonight shouldn’t be any different. After all, by now he knows the city far better, and he has a hell of a lot more to lose.

The last time, all he had was himself, nothing more and nothing less. And it had been enough to keep him alive. He had lived a life that consisted of hiding, stealing and generally trying not to exist, and it’s not a life he’s very keen to pick up again. Back then he had lived like this for several months without any problems at all. This time a mere week of it seems to be enough to nearly break him.

The man following him – or at least Aaron guesses it’s a man, judging by the heavy footsteps – starts to run as well, and Aaron can hear him shout something, though he can’t pick up the individual words. He doesn’t know if the man is yelling to him or to someone else, and frankly, he’s not about to stick around to find out which it is, either.

His heart races as he rounds a corner, nearly runs straight into a car but manages to swerve around it, sprints down a narrow alleyway and comes out onto a larger, well lit street on the other side. Aaron stops for a split second, unsure of which way to take, before he runs to the left, only to be met with the sight of two police cars pulling up at the end of the street seconds later. He turns abruptly to head the other way, but the man following him has reached the street as well, and suddenly Aaron is left with few options.

“Fuck,” he says to no one in particular, and jumps over the nearest fence to run through the garden and slip in between the houses so that he can get lost in the shadows. He thinks he’s made it when he reaches the house, but then a hand closes around his wrist and yanks him back hard. Aaron nearly loses his balance, especially when there’s a second yank, but he’s running on pure adrenaline and pulls free of the grip, keeps running.

The man is close behind him, Aaron can’t shake him, and by now he hears the voices of other men and women as well, the sound of the police sirens and the bright flashes of red and blue making him dizzy.

And scared. Terrified, even.

Once again the man grabs a hold of Aaron, and this time the grip is much tighter, harder to shake himself out of, even if he tries. “For fuck’s sake man, just stop. You’re surrounded,” the man gasps, just as out of breath as Aaron is. He doesn’t see the point in replying, and merely tries to push the other off.

“You’re going to end up being shot, is that what you want?” the man asks, exasperated after Aaron punches him in the face.

“I sure as fuck don’t want to end up in The Cage,” Aaron spits back and frees himself a second time, running – only to run straight into the three police men that have followed them into the garden. The entire neighborhood seems to be waking up, lights flickering on and providing fewer places for Aaron to hide; not that he really need anywhere to hide right now. He needs to shake the cops, needs to trick them, needs to run, needs to breathe.

As he fights with the men, struggling to get free even if he knows very well that this is one battle he can’t possibly win, the image of his sons flashes in his mind, over and over, like a TV with too much static. It makes him feel like screaming and he punches one of the police men; struggles, struggles, struggles because

“Do you really have to go, dad?” Jaejin asks, face all serious because he’s older and comprehends more. Aaron loves him; the oldest, the smartest, the bookworm, the wannabe bass player, the serious one of the brothers. Jaejin is more quiet and withdrawn, he doesn’t open up to people easily, he doesn’t smile much – but when he does, it’s a slow smile that can melt hearts of stone and ice. Jaejin is also the strongest one, both physically and emotionally. He’s the big brother in every sense of the word, protecting his little brother if it’s necessary, and he has the scars to prove it.

“Yeah, dad, we don’t want you to go. Stay with us, please,” Minhwan adds, wraps his arms around Aaron’s neck and clings to him. Minhwan likes to cling, whether it’s to Dominic, Kanata, Jaejin or Aaron, and they all let him because they know what he’s been through. Minhwan is the baby of the family, a year younger than his brother, but a lot louder. He laughs often, but he cries often as well. Minhwan carries his heart on his sleeve, and Aaron is often afraid that he’ll end up getting hurt over and over because of it. Minhwan is the joker, the prankster, the wannabe drummer, the dreamer, the one they all love with the kind of warmth and honesty that is almost frightening at times.

Aaron swallows; he doesn’t want to disappoint them. He’s not the best father in the world, he knows that much, but he loves the two of them and he makes sure they know it. Even if their life can be very strange at times, he does his best to make sure that they have a good life now, after the hell they lived through from birth and to Jaejin was five years old and Minhwan was four.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I don’t have any choice,” he says, honestly surprised over how unsteady his voice is. He prides himself on being strong, he has always been strong, but in the presence of his sons it’s like all of that goes out the window in a heartbeat. “I never wanted this to happen, but I promise I’ll be back, and you’ll be safe here with Dominic, Kanata and Vintersorg staying over for a while. Is that okay?”

The boys hesitate, but then nod, Jaejin first, as always. Minhwan looks at his brother, and then nods as well – it’s always Jaejin that makes the decisions. Aaron smiles to them in relief, and makes a mental note to thank his friends for helping him out. They’re almost not even friends anymore; they’re closer than that. They’re all family by now, even if the only ones that are related by blood are the two pair of brothers: Vintersorg and Kanata, and Jaejin and Minhwan.

“That’s good,” Aaron says, and he hugs both boys close to him, for a long time. He doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to add more stress to their lives, doesn’t want to hurt them. Maybe giving up would be the best thing. Go quietly, like the police no doubt want him to. But he’s never been like that, and he’s sure as hell not going to start not, now that he has the boys. He loves them, like he loved his own siblings back when he was a kid. The siblings that never got to grow up, and which are in turn the reason why he still has to run, so many years later.

Aaron thinks it’s impossible to get rid of your past, especially if it’s an ugly and evil one. You could never make up for the mistakes, no matter what.

He gets to his feet and walks into the small bedroom to pack a bag of the most necessary things he’ll need to survive on his own. The boys follow him and bounce on the bed while he packs – for once he doesn’t tell them to quit it and simply watches instead, laughing with them.

“I learned a new chord yesterday,” Jaejin informs him, obvious pride in his voice.

“You did? That’s great, you know a lot by now. Winter is a good teacher, huh?”

Jaejin nods, grinning, before he flops down onto the mattress to take a break from the bouncing. Aaron notices that his clothes are starting to get a little too small; he’s been growing so much lately, being over a head taller than his brother by now. “Yeah, he’s great. I want to be just like Winter when I grow up,” he says enthusiastically, and Aaron nearly chokes because he’d rather not have his son end up like that. Sure, he loves Vintersorgc, but a pink-haired, foul-mouthed, and slightly sadistic bassist is not exactly what his oldest son should strive to be.

“Just be you, Jaejin, that’s more than enough. Never try to copy someone, just be who you really are,” he replies and ruffle’s Jaejin’s dark hair. He’s not sure if he’s the right person to be giving life lessons, all things considered, but he tries to teach the boys about right and wrong, and apart from that he lets them evolve in whatever way they want. Lets them be themselves.

“I want to be like Dominic,” Minhwan exclaims, and Aaron nearly chokes again. He gives his youngest son a slightly exasperated look because even if he knows that Minhwan idolized Dominic just as much as Jaejin idolizes Vintersorg, he still doesn’t like the idea of either of them growing up to be like the men they’re such avid fans of. Aaron loves Dominic too, but if being pink-haired and a sadist was bad, then being blue-haired, too feminine and more than a little masochistic isn’t really all that much better.

He sighs heavily and pulls Minhwan down before he jumps high enough to hit his head on the ceiling, pulling him down onto his lap. “You just have to be yourself as well. And if either of you dye your hair crazy colors while I’m gone, there’ll be hell to pay when I get back home, got it?”

Minhwan just laughs and hugs him – he’s been allowed to grow his hair longer than Jaejin and bleach it slightly as well, simply because he nagged Aaron about it for months and it was easier to just let him do it. “I love you, dad,” he says, and laughs again before squirming free and going back to jumping on the bed, pestering Jaejin as much as possible in the process.

Aaron smiles even if he knows he has to leave as soon as possible, before the police decide to show up. “You’re both utterly crazy,” he says, fondness in his voice. “But I love you too.” Aaron isn’t used to saying things like that, isn’t used to showing so much emotion anymore because he learned when he was little what would happen if he showed too much emotion and

One of the police men hits him over the back of the head with a baton, and Aaron groans, practically feels how the world goes black, and he sinks down to his knees. It’s a split second’s lapse, one single moment where he doesn’t fight because of the sheer pain, and it’s all the cops need. Almost before he has the chance to react, his arms are wrenched back, and there’s the feeling of cold steel clasping around his wrists.

“Aaron Craig, you are under arrest for---”

He curses so loudly that it drowns out the rest of the police man’s words, and he starts to struggle again now that the pain dies down again. His breathing it too shallow, too quick, and he’s honestly afraid that he’ll break down in tears soon because he can’t do this. He has been arrested once, but was bailed out, and those two weeks he spent in the holding cell was the worst of his life. He can’t go back, he doesn’t want to go back, the thought of it makes him cold with dread and fear and anger because fuck it, he’s got something to live for.

This isn’t what’s meant to happen.

The man that followed him from the café drags Aaron onto his feet and loosens the handcuff on one wrist to bring his hands to his front instead. Aaron thinks it’s a stupid move; he can fight that way, after all. And then there’s another hit to his head, and everything goes black for a few seconds.

When the world comes back into focus Aaron finds himself completely surrounded by cops and curious onlookers, most of them in pajamas. He lets his gaze slide over them, still half unfocused, taking in the varying ages, ethnicities, appearances, genders. They’re all different, but they all have the same slack-jawed expression of morbid curiosity. He has an urge to lash out at them all, hurt them for standing there watching him like this. Fuckers, all of them.

The cops drag him past the crowd, only stopping next to the police cars. Aaron still hasn’t quite given up – he’s honestly terrified to end up in The Cage, and he’s fairly sure that that’s exactly where he’s headed if he allows this to happen. Sure, he can get lawyers, but it will all come down to the cold, hard facts, and they haven’t changed in the years that have passed. Neither have the evidence. He thinks he knows exactly what will happen, and the consequence of it all is that the boys, his Jaejin and Minhwan, will end up back in the system.

He hates that thought with a burning passion, and wrenches free from the men holding him, tries to make a run for it even if he’s surrounded by people. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds before they catch up to him, hitting him again, making him see stars. Aaron’s fairly sure this isn’t standard treatment, no matter who they’re hunting. So much for a fair system. He had honestly thought that in a place like this there wouldn’t be any racism anymore, but apparently that isn’t the case. Just one more disappointment in a life that has brought a long string of disappointments.

Aaron feels a lump in his throat, bends his head and lowers his gaze. He’s used to being proud, to standing firm, but for once in his life, he feels like pleading. For Jaejin and Minhwan’s sake, he’d beg, if he thought it would make a difference.

But it wouldn’t, and so he doesn’t say anything. Only thinks it. Please, please, please… For my sons’ sake, let me go. Let me go, please. Show some mercy. See the big picture. Don’t take my kids away from me. Don’t take their father away from them. Please. Please.

No one can hear his silent plea, no one pays him much attention now, as the cops fill out forms and talk among themselves, keeping close guard on him. The crowd disperses slowly, families going back into their safe houses to sleep again. The only one looking at him twice is the man that chased him for so long, the one that is – ultimately – the reason that Aaron’s standing here now. There’s something almost sympathetic in the man’s eyes, as if he has an inclination that maybe this isn’t the triumph the other cops are making it out to be.

Aaron doesn’t know, and he doesn’t really care. Unless the man is going to help him escape, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. And of course, he doesn’t. He stands there, looking at Aaron, but then he shakes his head – as if he’s shaking off unpleasant thoughts – and turns his back, leaving Aaron to the others.

Handcuffed and overmanned, Aaron doesn’t have a choice. He’s pushed roughly into the nearest police car by laughing policemen, the noise grating his ears. His eyes feel sore, but he doesn’t cry; and he’s not going to. Instead, he bends his head and looks at the watch around his wrist.

Five minutes past midnight.