Author's Notes: This story is post-X and does not take place in modern Japan as you know it. The title is from the song by the same name by KMFDM, which was the original inspiration for the story. The title of my own personal theme for S/S/K by Finger Eleven is hidden in this chapter as well- points for finding it. I highly recommend reading the previous two chapters before picking up here, which can be found on this site and at http://yuuzai.seishirou.nu. For stylistic purposes, upon the recommendation of my beta, I've left certain easily recognizable phrases and sounds in Japanese, the language in which much of the dialogue was written. I had originally intended to avoid using any in the translation, but my beta tells me it adds to the atmosphere to leave them this way. I'm inclined to agree. You be the judge.

Thanks go out to C for her mad editting skills, and her help with Subaru. It's the first time I've ever tried to write him, and her advice has been invaluable. Much of the Subaru in this chapter is hers- the actions and thoughts here and in the rest of the fic will be as well. So much love do I hold for her.



Anarchy

Chapter 3- Not What You Expected


“You need to go to the hospital, Kamui.” Subaru did not turn to face him as he spoke. He had not once faltered or paused on his steady walk towards Tokyo’s harbour, and from the set of his shoulders and the briskness of his pace, Kamui knew he did not intend to. This was the first time he had even spoken.

Kamui didn’t respond; he merely pushed himself to his feet again- nearly slipping on the rain-slicked pavement- and continued to limp after him. His shoes sloshed in the tiny streams that had overtaken the streets and the rain had soaked him to the skin; leaving little trails of red in the water long after the other Kamui’s blood had washed away. He didn’t half mind- the coolness numbed the deep slashes on his body, even if it made him shiver violently.

Just a little too much weight on his left leg- maybe broken, somewhere in that fall from the Tower platform, along with his ribs- and he fell again. His voice was so hoarse from crying only a whimper escaped him, followed by a few sobs as he tried to right himself one more time.

The black boots of the older man ahead of him stopped finally at the sound, "I'll take you." he offered. Kamui had to strain to make out his soft voice amidst the driving rain, but the quiet determination in the onmyouji's tone was impossible to miss.

That made the young boy lift his head with an expression of bleak hope. "Will you stay?" He asked, with the dejected tone of anyone who asks a question to which he already knows the answer.

"...No." Subaru replied, and continued his own funeral procession, only Kamui in attendance- probably just the way he wanted.

Or perhaps he wanted to be alone. But Kamui simply would not leave.

He was so numb by the time they reached the bay, he barely felt the rising water- now up past his ankles- and his injuries. It left him to focus solely on the man in front of him as he made his way down to what Kamui remembered to be the water’s edge. There had been so much flooding when the kekkai had broken, and now everything past the higher buildings was hidden under the rippling waves.

“Subaru... please...” He begged, his voice cracking with each word, half-mumbled through trembling lips.

The onmyouji ignored his plea, and stepped off the edge of the road.

Kamui found his voice at that, a tiny scream of grief that must have startled the older man, because he stopped in his tracks, hands clenched hard enough to strain the leather gloves that covered them.

Kamui blinked, wondering why Subaru was still standing, only up to his knees in the flood.

The bridge.

Of course they were here. The black water might have obscured it, and the cable suspensions were all destroyed or gone, and all the landmarks of Tokyo missing and the city drowning, but he should have known Subaru could find the exact spot where his life and purpose had been taken from him.

“Kamui.” He said softly, tilting his head back into the rain. “I have to go. No one needs me anymore.”

The boy shook his head slowly, as more tears spilled into the oceans at his feet. “...Not true. I need you. Subaru, I need you...”

“No you don’t, Kamui.” Subaru shrugged out of his coat, and tossed it into the water. The form underneath was even thinner than Kamui remembered, the bones of the older man’s shoulders and back painfully visible beneath his damp shirt. “Some of the kekkai were still standing- I saw them. Some of the other Seals have survived. They will be able to help you more than I.”

“No no no no no.” Kamui pleaded helplessly. “It isn’t the same- isn’t anywhere close to the same- they don’t know... they don’t know... what it feels like- any of it- and...” His voice trailed off, a little note of hysteria creeping in at the edges. He barely noticed.

Subaru sighed. “I don’t think you give them enough credit, Kamui. They’ve all lost someone special, and they came out of it much better than I did. Honestly, you should-“

“It ISN’T the SAME.” Kamui repeated, wrapping his arms around himself. “And you KNOW it. He was everything, all I had left... besides you...”

Subaru was silent for a moment, staring down into the waves. His hands clenched again, as if bracing himself for something. “You don’t have me, Kamui. I have to go. There’s nothing left for me here.”

“Subaru...” Kamui’s eyes filled with tears, and he staggered back if struck. His knees gave out again, but he had no strength left to cry out this time. “Subaru... please... I....

“I’ll give you something to live for.” He managed, a sudden fullness born of desperation in his voice. “I’ll give you everything I have. Whatever He was to you, I’ll replace it- I swear it. I promise I’ll make you happy again. I promise.

“Because... I love you, Subaru. Isn’t that enough?”

Subaru flinched visibly at those words. His expression was impossible to read from the boy’s position, and he did not respond. He stripped off his gloves and tossed them into the bay.

He kissed both hands, then ran them slowly through the water. “You can always love someone else, Kamui.” It was almost a whisper.

“So can you.”

Subaru didn’t respond to that, either. “...There are always other choices, for people like us.”

“What choices?” Kamui asked tiredly- his strength seemed like it was seeping out into the water.

“Stay and drown.” The older man’s voice had lost all of its prior determination, now no stronger than the boy behind him.

Kamui let another quiet sob escape him. He would never make it back to safety like this, and for all his determination to live the pull of the soft, blissful depths made the offer sound so good. “If I wanted to die, I would have stayed with Fuuma.” He was crying in earnest, now.

“Saving this world destroyed everything I had... I want to get some of it back before I die. Otherwise, what good was it? Fuuma is gone, Kotori is gone, my mother is gone... If you leave me, I’ve done nothing worthwhile at all.” His voice was breaking with grief.

“I need you, Subaru. Maybe that’s selfish, but I need you or I will never be happy in this life. If you stay, I promise I’ll share some of that happiness with you... because you are the only hope I have now and I love you so much-“

“Enough, Kamui.” Subaru interrupted. His shoulders were shaking. “That’s enough.”

He turned around at last, and Kamui could see the streaks of tears running down his face, the blood trickling down his chin from where he’d bitten his lip to keep those tears from his voice.

Subaru walked back from the bridge and gathered Kamui into his arms.

“I’ll stay.”

* * *

On clear nights, when the haze of the city had been swept out across the ocean by the wind, Sumeragi Subaru could still see the water’s edge. The surface was black, smooth and shining like chinese silk with the city’s lights reflected as red in the rippling crests of the waves, cold and deep and inviting with all the world hidden beneath.

The flood waters had receded from most of the streets they had engulfed that year, but much of it remained. A combination of the lowering of the city’s elevation from the earthquakes and global warming, they said. Like so much of the rest of the world of late, the coast just off Tokyo Bay was lined with expensive waterfront property gone to ruin, their inhabitants forced to move closer to the rest of the inhabitants in their highrises near the heart of the city.

Subaru leaned over the railing on the balcony of his apartment near the top of one of those highrises. Ash fell from the cigarette he ignored to be carried by the wind out towards the bay beyond. Below him, the neon lights of the clubs and all-night shops mingled with the countless voices of the New Shinjuku strip; the blare of the latest music, the roar of motorcycles, and the rare distant crack of gunfire to contrast the silent darkness of the ocean he watched.

But he was no closer to giving into the temptation now than he was so many years ago. He flicked the last of the ash off the end of his cigarette with a tired sigh and walked back into his apartment and shut the glass door to block out the noise.

Kamui hadn’t come home yet tonight and Subaru didn’t know if he would. He often went out these days- though he had no job he’d admitted to- and he couldn’t be bothered to summon the concern to ask why.

He was faced with the same choice tonight as all the other nights like this: the method with which he would make the time seem to go faster, the method by which he would forget everything that had happened and was still happening.

He glanced back outside- he could simply go back there, light up another cigarette, wait for nothing- but then he remembered offhand that that one had been his last, and searching through the bedroom for Kamui’s wasn’t worth the time or effort. In the glance, his eyes caught sight of the skyline, the distant shore on the other side of the bay. The campus, the old apartment he and Kamui had shared so briefly- the image brought with it a wave of nostalgia. That was where he had spent the years of his search for the man that had been the death of his first life. The single bed, single chair, single set of dishes and silverware; one cup, one lamp, purpose.

That man had been the death of his new life as well.

Then, Kamui had brought him into the next one.

At first, he said he wasn’t ready to go back to school. It hurt too much. Subaru didn’t mind- the truth of the matter was that he himself had dropped out of high school when his life had changed as dramatically as Kamui’s, so he didn’t pressure him. Nokoru called a few months later, told him that many of students had stopped attending after the earthquakes, so Kamui could attend special classes to catch up with the others. Told him that education would be an important part of getting back on his feet again, that it was the key to his future. Subaru listened idly the entire time, grinding ink for the ofuda he would use to kill later that night, and didn’t bother to mention that his own teachers had told him the same thing, and in the end it would have changed nothing. Kamui agreed to attend classes the very next day.

A year later Subaru found him curled up on a chair, his arms across his knees, eyes red, waiting for his return. He said he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d dropped out. He couldn’t concentrate. They said he was clinically depressed or something like that, that he needed drugs, but he wouldn’t take them- he wasn’t that weak. He was failing almost every test he took. Subaru saw scrapes on his knuckles. He’d noticed them before, but this time Kamui saw him looking. He told him he was picking fights, admitted through choking sobs that he didn’t really know why- anyone who laughed at him or whispered behind his back, even a girl once, who said he was too stupid to be there. How could he be depressed if he was so angry? But it didn’t matter, did it?

A fragile smile-

-He could cook and clean until he found a job or felt well enough to go back to school again.-

-The pleasant smells of Kamui’s cooking, the soft, youthful feel of Kamui’s skin under his fingers, curious and playful.-

Nostalgia was one of the Sumeragi’s least favourite emotions and, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, he tore himself away from the sight and back inside.

It had only been a few years until Kamui’d suggested they needed a bigger place for the two of them. They had to move to a different part of town to afford it- Kamui learned the hard way how difficult it was to find a job during a recession, without a high school education to boot. And he refused to let his friends find him one.

It didn’t matter to Subaru of course, he could support them. He didn’t use any of the extra money he made anyway.

Time left him little choice but to waste it now, and so he stepped back inside to a slow surveyal of the apartment. The ancient flatscreen television Kamui’d been so excited about when he’d first brought it home (the only time Subaru had ever seen him watch a nature program, exclaiming at the high definition, the flawless quality of the rippling waves of a faraway tropical beach- Subaru didn’t understand why he simply didn’t go there, for the amount the thing had cost him- still, it made him happy), the faint glow of the monitor from the tiny spare room they used as an office, though it was more of a storage room lately, an old couch next to a stained coffee table, marked countless times over by little circles- when Kamui couldn’t be ‘bothered’ to use a coaster, Kamui’s shirt tossed over the back of one of the kitchen chairs near the doorway. All these things were Kamui’s.

In the bedroom, there were two drawers full of plain clothing; by the doorway, a summer coat, a winter coat, a pair of boots; in the office, a small stack of paper, an inkwell, a brush, a few books; by the couch, a few chips beside Kamui’s stereo; in his pocket, a cellphone and a wallet. These things were his.

But these things did not matter to him, and his dilemma still remained. Kamui had gone somewhere, and might not return until late at night. He needed something to pass those hours.

He could make something to eat, he supposed. No, he should eat. He stepped into the kitchen and paused, leaning against the counter, trying to work up the will to open the fridge and find what he already knew was there. He’d looked this morning, the last time he’d tried to eat something. There would be leftovers from the last time either of them had bothered to cook, two nights ago. There would be a few instant soy meals in the freezer, a package of frozen vegetables to go along with them. There would be a little rice and tea in the cupboards- since Kamui had started ‘working’ last year for Subaru’s medicine, they could afford more of those- both commodities had tripled in price since the war in China had started. There would be a handful of fruit, something Subaru knew they could honestly not afford, which meant Kamui thought he was going to get sick again. And there would, of course, be Kamui’s Kirin, but Subaru wouldn’t touch any of that.

He should eat some fruit, at least. He should…

But he couldn’t. (Maybe if he just threw a little of the leftovers out, Kamui would think…)

-Will to eat is the will to live-

He bit back the tears that rose in his throat, and moved on.

The couch was comfortable enough, once he’d tossed the remote controls back onto the coffee table. He laid his head down on the armrest. Something was missing- his eyes kept trailing back to the kitchen, or out to the balcony and the sights beyond. For once he felt he needed something to distract him… just a little. He rolled over and knelt beside the stereo; pulled out a few chips and put them in. Kamui didn’t like it when he changed the settings, so he just pluggd in an old pair of headphones and settled back to listen as the soft, steady electronic beats began, followed by a wordless melody.

His eyes closed, and only the alertness that came with the violence of the life he’d lived brought the quiet clicking of the keypad outside the door to his senses.

Odd. It never took Kamui more than a few seconds to enter the code. Even if he was drunk, he’d just knock for Subaru and-

He was off the couch and behind the kitchen wall a second later- a few softly chanted words and shadows enveloped him entirely- waiting for the intruders to come.

He heard the click of the door unlocking. He was tempted to turn and look- they wouldn’t be able to see him now- but instinct held him back. For all their former stealth, the door was slammed open, and the table knocked over- a plate and mug shattering on the floor below- followed by the thunderclap of automatic weapon fire.

Subaru was startled, but waited until the firing stopped before he tried to see who could possibly be doing this here. To them. Kamui…? What is this?

They were the kind of young men he saw all too often on the streetcorners and outside the nightclubs that had taken over this district of late. Dressed in torn and brightly coloured clothing, hair spiked and faces pierced, armed with illegal weapons- Subaru paid little to no attention to that kind of thing, the type and make of the things as irrelevant to him as it was useless against him- like they held now, eager for a chance to use them. They carved out sections of the streets for themselves and terrorized anyone who tried to move them. A disease eating away at the core of Tokyo, some called them. Lazy, violent, with no morals and no respect.

Subaru did not see those things. He saw boys with no homes, dangerously thin and desperate. He did not hear the threat in their voices, the impolite language they used. He heards one struggling to speak Japanese, his thick Korean accent drawing disdainful looks from those around, who pretended not to understand him. He saw them huddled in alleys, coughing and barely able to stand, lost in the only release they had from the harsh reality of their lives. He saw their bodies strewn in abandoned lots for the sake of the older men who ran the blackmarket trade that fueled their livelihood, or when the police decided they’d become too much of a problem, or moved too close to the wealthy.

He saw it even now.

He shook so violently it was difficult for Subaru to hold him upright, his face pale and eyes dark red, coughing so hard he could barely breathe. He warned Subaru that he might get sick if he helped him, but thanked him when he did. He said he’d be fine as soon as he got inside. It wasn’t that bad… just cold tonight. Subaru offered his coat. He had a place to stay, he was lucky. He needed it for his brother and sister- their parents had died in the earthquakes a long time ago, and he’d dropped out of school to look for work. He asked Subaru if he was all right- it was late, and why was there blood on his sleeve?

It was only a few more blocks before he thanked Subaru again. He was glad he wasn’t alone… just too cold to walk. He stopped trying to breathe a little later, slumped against his chest on the hard pavement, leaving him to revel in the misery of the memories it brought. Subaru left his jacket with him.

Subaru closed his eyes, a resigned look setting onto his features, sure already of what this would come to, and hating himself for doing it. The realization of what he had become a little too clear, too close, and the insinuation it carried… too painful to dwell on. But Kamui could not come home to this. The world went grey.

The blaze of gunfire died off as suddenly as it started. Even from his vantage point, Subaru could see the chunks of plywood and fibreglass that had been blasted out of the wall by the hail of bullets- he was lucky none of them had gone through it. The air smelled dusty now, filled with fine particles of paint and cheap insulation.

They'd pushed over the table as soon as they'd broken through the door- one of Kamui's mugs now lay shattered on the floor- and two of them crouched behind it. The third remained standing just outside the door, likely to keep watch and prevent anyone else from interrupting. One could barely be a freshman in high school, and none of them yet in their twenties.

"Oi-oi. That's enough." The oldest of the group said loudly. "He's either hiding or not he's not here." He clapped the boy beside him on the shoulder. "You might not get to kill someone tonight after all."

The one at the door leaned in and shook his head. "That's odd. The girl we talked to said he was a total shut-in. You'd better check inside."

"Well, yeah." The oldest rolled his eyes. "I was going to in a sec'. He might just be doing laundry, y'know." He turned to the other one and gestured to the computer room. "You check in there, I'll check the back."

He shut his eyes for a moment - breathing a slow, controlled rhythm between heartbeats - back to the wall and listening. With steps that had long ago learned to be smooth and voiceless on the bare floors he withdrew, backing toward the bedroom and closing the door until it hung only a few inches ajar, careful to make it look as if left that way carelessly - just someone that couldn't be bothered with tying up loose ends.

And he waited. Years of the task he had been left had taught him the rules of patience and opportunity, just as they must have for Him.

He took another breath. The world seemed to fade away and there was nothingness, only the sounds of the intruders moving in the other room, their footsteps coming closer and falling away, the rush of blood in his ears - nothing but this, no emotion, just the perfect clarity of his goal - he had to kill them before he was discovered or he would die.

The older one headed towards the back, whistling some tuneless melody vaguely familiar to Subaru- something he had once heard Kamui play on his computer, perhaps- his gun held casually in one hand. There was no point in stealth, for them. Anyone inside would have been certain to hear the gunfire. He rounded the corner to see the bedroom door, and pushed it open lightly… and still he waited, drawing back into the shadows in the corner, waiting for the man - no, boy really... don't think - to step inside and fumble for the light switch.

He jerked upright at the voice near his ear, Subaru's own, a muted offering of, "Gomen nasai onegai shimasu." full of quiet sincerity. And Subaru moved.

It stunned him, and less than a second later Subaru's fingers were in his throat, severing his vocal chords quickly so all he could manage was a wide eyed stare and the horrified revelation of the meaning of Subaru's apology. He crumpled forward, caused Subaru to stagger a little, the weight of him more than he had expected. A few whispered syllables, a gesture, and the familiar whirl of sakura carried it away. He tried to ignore the cooling blood that dripped down his fingers and soaked his shirt, and silently slipped back into his corner to wait again.

"Hn. Look what I found!" The youngest said excitedly from the front of the apartment. Subaru saw him step out of the spare room holding a picture. "This guy's older than him. Weird, huh? I didn't imagine that. A lot older."

The picture was one Subaru recognized: from one of their first dates, where Kamui had taken him out to an amusement park. He couldn't have known that it was one He had taken him to so long ago, and the memories had clung to it like tortured ghosts, crying out their misery whenever Subaru saw a ride they'd taken together, or a stand they'd shared ice cream beside- smiling and offering to lick his Subaru-kun's fingers if they were sticky, bright brown eyes and deep voice seemingly innocent of all the innuendo the offer held- and it was all he could do to stay and hold Kamui's hand. To cheer him up- violet eyes full of such genuine concern, small hands comforting on his- he'd dragged him into a photo booth, ignoring the odd looks given to them by the schoolgirls lined up around it. Kamui had grinned and told them now they were a real couple- they even had the stickers to prove it.

The one by the door cocked his head inside again to look. "Taller, too. Eh, you're right- I didn't see him taking it from some other guy, either." He shrugged, his expression turned disdainful. "That's just how faggots are, though. Bet they have some messed up shit in the bedroom." He paused. "Well, do they?"

There was no response from his comrade. "Che." He muttered. "Bastard always takes his damn time. Go see what he's doing in there."

The boy nodded and headed off in Subaru's direction. He stopped just in front of the door, and smelled the air. "Hmm. It smells odd here."

"Yeah? Like what?" The other man started tapping his gun against the doorframe impatiently.

"Like... I don't know..." He stared off into the distance for a moment, obviously trying to place the scent. "...Like Ueno in spring."

The man by the door raised an eyebrow. "What, are you turning into a fucking poet now? Just go and see what's taking him so damn long already."

The youngest one looked around the bedroom, confused, and likely becoming frightened at his friends' disappearance. "Eh... anou... where..." He peered inside- then took a few steps backwards and slumped against the wall, eyes wide.

He'd spotted the blood on the floor. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, a little bit of horror building in his expression as he tried to speak, but too stunned to manage the words.

"Eh?" The man at the door stepped inside finally. "What is it?"

One step, two, three and Subaru had closed the distance between them, another swift movement - not giving either figure time to react - and Subaru was pulling his arm out of the older one's back past broken bones and a river of red that flowed out of the wound. No more than another moment to pause, tossing the body aside and wrenching away the gun it held, and he was training it on the younger one and dragging him inside the room with a blood-slicked hand over his mouth and the weapon held under his chin, back to the very back of the room, to the closet - where he waited again for the struggles to stop, and when they didn't, politely asked,

"Please be quiet. I don't want to kill you."

The boy looked up at him- wide-eyed and helpless expression hauntingly reminiscent of another young boy- before they loosed a few tears, and his struggles ceased. He was trembling in Subaru's arms, and the few high-pitched noises that escaped his throat sounded a little like muffled sobs.

"I- I wouldn't have- I wasn't going to- I-" He managed pathetically before falling silent again.

"I know. Ssh." His words were harsh, and they held the tired bitterness of a man aching for a respite long overdue, but one that simply wasn't in sight… and Subaru knew it. He bit back his sigh and tried to snuff out his emotions again, but even so he felt the thrill of the adrenaline wearing away and he knew he had to finish this quickly or he might give out.

"How many of you are there."

The boy clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking as he tried to answer: "J-just three. Three of us."

"Let's go check." Subaru wasted no time, his arm firmly around the younger boy's shoulders and gun still digging painfully into his jaw he lead him toward the door, stopping to peer out into the living room and the kitchen, making sure there was no one else was left.

He found the apartment empty- the boy swallowed at the sight of the blood splattered on the walls and floor, trying desperately not to cry or whimper- and silent save for the faintest sounds of music coming from the headphones left discarded by the couch.

"It was just us... R-really. You were alone, we didn't think we'd need anyone else." The boy said quickly, before biting his lip against tears.

After a moment of listening to the air, he let his grip on the boy and the press of the gun against his skin relax, though he wasn't ready to let him go yet. He felt as if his legs would give out, the twin influences of no sleep and no nourishment finally starting to take their toll on the Sumeragi, but he refused to let himself sit.

Even his tone sounded beaten as he asked exhaustedly, "Who sent you."

The boy looked genuinely surprised by the question. "Don't you know? Miyazaki's been sending your.... ah... friend after us for months." He seemed to relax as Subaru did, but his hands remained clenched.

"Miyazaki..." Subaru stepped back at last, shaking his head and looking almost sorrowful. "Ah... Kamui, what have you done?"

As quickly as the look had come though, when he looked up it seemed to have already left.

"Go. Now. Hurry." He gestured to the door with the gun and then tossed it away, feeling himself begin to lose the strength to stand and knowing that he’ll need to be alone before he collapses he began to back toward the couch, sighing and absently running fingers coated with blood across his face, simply managing to leave long red streaks down his cheek and neck.

Seeing the boy frozen and staring, he repeated loudly, "Go." And with that fell backward onto the couch, too tired to keep himself up anymore.

The boy turned and ran, at last. Blood and glass caught in the soles of his shoes, Subaru could hear his crunching footsteps until he reached the doors to the stairwell, which slammed shut shortly after.

From where he lay on the couch, Subaru's eyes- hazy with exhaustion- fell on the overturned table and shards of porcelain. They blurred together, finding some memory within him as his mind drifted into half-sleep. The smell of blood only seemed to heighten the nostalgia.

Subaru'd had to work on his birthday, but he was waiting for Kamui when he got home. The smell of alcohol on him was overpowering, and he staggered only a few feet before collapsing in the first chair he saw. But he was smiling, in a way Subaru hadn't seen in years, tiny mouth curved upwards and eyes adoring.

"Yuzuriha took me out for some drinks..." Kamui slurred. "At Karen's new place. It's... great, Subaru. You should go there. The girls are so nice." He practically beamed, before nearly falling out of his chair in an attempt to pull Subaru closer.

"You know what she said, though...? She said she'd heard there was some country... where men could get married. You know... that one. Not America, but the other one." Kamui leaned towards him. "She said we should go there and get married. She said... it would be cute." He tugged on Subaru's sleeve, looking up into his eyes. "What do you think?"

The look in the boy's eyes, to anyone else would have been heartbreaking, and... And yet... And despite himself Subaru suddenly felt like he was suffocating. In his mind was another smile, flashing, piercing images of sakura and cigarette smoke, whispered words, and the burning that had finally disappeared from the back of his hands so many years ago, the choking sobs that had followed, died away, and returned for so many days afterward that he had felt it would never stop - until the day it had. Everything had died away at long last into a simple, terrible, everlasting emptiness that wouldn't rest; wouldn't let him ever have real peace until his lungs felt the same ache for air that his heart felt, until the day that both could stop trying to breathe.

And, suddenly, he came back to reality and he knew that Kamui had seen it on his face.

Without any warning, the hit that followed knocked him to the floor. The sound of glass breaking, blood running in his eyes-

He was woken gently by a hand on his shoulder. "Sumeragi-san? Are you alright?" He gradually came round to see the face of his neighbour- an older man, the only one on their floor that could be bothered with the two of them- full of concern.

"Fine… cut myself... I'll be fine." The lie was as weak as his voice must have sounded, and there was no way the man standing over him could believe it, but Subaru was too tired to have moved or cared, dimly hoping that his body wouldn't be able to stand this abuse, and this time it would stop trying to altogether.

He knew it was a lie, but they'd been over this before... though for entirely different reasons. The older man shook his head sadly and stood. He must have known there was nothing more he could do. "Leave that asshole. Really."

And with that simple, yet impossible advice he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

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