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solongsun By the time Ruki left the isolation room a dim greyish light was beginning to filter through the sanatorium windows, a bleary, dirty sort of light that made Ruki shiver. He'd tiptoed across the hall, thanking whatever God there might be that the nurses' station was still deserted, and tentatively slipped around the door of his dorm room.
There was something he had to do – something he knew he had to do, but it made his heart hurt.
He found Toshiya sitting up on his bed, the bent paper clips in his hands. He looked up at Ruki tiredly and smiled, watching as he placed the gathered pages from his file neatly back into their envelope.
'I was scared you'd fallen asleep in there. Your life wouldn't be worth living if they'd caught you.'
Wordless, Ruki simply shook his head, and Toshiya's smile slipped a little.
'I don't want to do this,' he confessed lowly, staring down at the paper clips, his dark hair shifting around his shoulders as he shook his head, 'It feels wrong. Like I'm part of it.'
'I know,' Ruki said softly.
'But we have to, don't we?'
Helpless, Ruki spread his hands. 'I don't see how they won't know, if we don't. It'll come back to you, and I'm scared...I'm scared they might take it out on him, too.'
Slowly, stiff-jointed, Toshiya got to his feet.
'C'mon, then.'
Checking briefly around the doorway for any members of staff, Ruki led Toshiya back to the isolation room door and watched as he knelt in front of it. Swallowing, Toshiya slipped the paper clips into the lock, and then hesitated.
'You ever think about what happens when you die?' he asked.
'I...yeah, of course.'
Toshiya bit his lip. 'I worry sometimes that I'll be made to answer for all the bad things I've done. None of my excuses are going to be good enough. When I'm asked about this, what am I going to say; that I didn't want to get in trouble? That it was the rule?'
Ruki didn't know what to say to that; there didn't seem to be any answer. Instead, he simply set his hand on his friend's shoulder, and after a moment's hesitation Toshiya busied himself with the lock. It didn't take him as long, this time; his hands worked skilfully and soon the lock clicked softly closed again. Slowly, Toshiya got to his feet and tested the door: shut tight.
'Done,' he said, his voice strange. In the predawn quiet both men went silently back to their beds, and although Ruki couldn't be completely sure, he was fairly certain that Toshiya, too, lay wide awake until morning.
The next week passed so slowly, the entire ward seemed to be in a daze. Everywhere Ruki looked, people seemed to be stuck in time; here was Shinya studying the shadow of the windows bars on the TV room floor, splaying out his own fingers so they were bisected by the light; here was Uruha with a book open in his lap, reading the same page over and over so slowly that his eyes blurred; here was Die sat at the dining table, a troubled look on his face, the amount of food in front of him never seeming to shrink no matter how many mouthfuls he took.
It seemed to Ruki that their skins might have shimmered softly, too pale from the weeks cooped up inside. Like insects, he thought, trapped in amber; they arranged themselves decoratively, in a tableaux of activity, but really they were dead and stiff and frozen.
He knew that he was equally lacklustre. He spent his days sitting outside the isolation room door, talking himself hoarse about whatever happened to come into his head; he brought Die's portable cassette player with him and borrowed heavily from his collection of tapes, not selecting song by song but instead letting whole albums play out. He talked about paintings and drawings, described them in detail so it wouldn't matter that Kyo had never seen them.
And the time felt so heavy. It seemed to be that more than anything that was dragging them all down; the enormous pressure of time, weighty on their backs, crushing the movement out of them. Ruki felt unable to breathe, almost.
Without argument or even discussion, Toshiya rose with him every night to pick the lock of the isolation room door. They learned which nurses took their night duties seriously and which didn't: a few times Ruki poked his head around the door to find a white uniform dutifully placed at the nurses' station desk, and he would be forced to retreat back into the darkness of his bedroom. Toshiya would be watching him with big eyes; he'd give his head a brief shake, and his roommate would slump.
The look in Toshiya's eyes on those occasions was a strange one: a sort of caged look, fenced-in and dangerous, as though there was something on the other side of the isolation room door that he was desperately seeking. He seemed unable to sleep after those times and stayed awake fidgeting, getting up to pace the floors, smoking cigarettes too quickly, and Ruki knew that he should have tried to do something – should have questioned him about it; should have perhaps stopped asking him to pick the lock altogether, but he couldn't. Every time he even considered it, he seemed to see Kyo's confused, wild-eyed face in front of his eyes – the suspicious way he'd flinched back from the light; the fearfulness of his huddled posture – and it had forced his hand: he simply couldn't leave him in there alone. He hardly even spoke to him, at night, and it was even rarer that Kyo said anything back, but it seemed to make a difference when he just sat there. He would feel it all over again, the way Kyo's tense body would gradually relax towards him, and a couple of times the other man had fallen asleep against him. His dreams were fitful ones, always short-lived; when he woke it was with a stiffening of his entire body, and he wouldn't be able to relax again for a long while.
The nights when Ruki couldn't get in, he wondered if Kyo was sleeping; if he was able to sleep alone in there, in all that darkness.
He couldn't bear the thought that he might be feeling abandoned.
Christmas was coming, but nobody seemed to feel very festive. A few of the more spirited nurses erected a small, artificial tree in the corner of the TV room, and one of them had draped some tinsel around the desk in the nurses' station, but Ruki couldn't see why they'd bothered. What good was a holiday, stuck in a place like this? Time didn't seem to mean anything any more.
It was into this mood, a week before Christmas day, when Aoi finally reappeared. Ruki was sitting in the corridor outside the isolation room as normal, surrounded by tape cassettes and doing the best he could to keep up a continuous patter of talk, and he was in a position to see it quite clearly when the door to the stairwell was swung open and two white-uniformed orderlies led Aoi through. They were gripping him by the elbows and Ruki stared, his heart hammering nervously, trying to get a good look at his face; because now – now Aoi's walk was slow, almost tottering, and his hair hung down in tangles around his shoulders, and his posture seemed so bowed—
'Can you get your hands off me yet?' a voice snarled from in amongst the knots of hair, 'I know I've taken a few volts to the head but I can still fucking walk.'
Ruki's face split into a hopeful smile.
'Aoi—'
Down the corridor Aoi flinched the orderlies off him, sweeping his messy hair back from his face; his stubble had grown out longer than ever, and he ran a hand through it a little ruefully.
'Hi, Ruki. Miss me?'
Ignoring his escorts, he set off down the hallway, keeping a hand braced against the wall to support himself; Ruki stood up to meet him but he waved him back down, smiling. Just a little weakly, he slid down the wall to sit opposite him, sighing softly when he got himself safely settled.
'It's nothing to worry about,' he said, catching Ruki's look, 'Just haven't used my legs much over the past few weeks, that's all.'
'Right,' Ruki said, 'Are you...okay?'
'Oh, sure. Fully charged, you know.'
'Aoi,' Ruki said softly, and the other man's smile seemed to get a little stiff. Forcing a laugh, he shook his head, tugging at his tangled hair a little self-consciously.
'I look a mess,' he said. 'Thanks for not running away at the sight of me. Who's...' he nodded at the door behind Ruki, 'in there?'
Ruki fiddled with the tape he was holding in his lap. It was close enough, but his vision didn't seem to be working properly; he couldn't tell which one it was any more.
'Kyo,' he answered quietly, and Aoi paused.
'Oh,' he said softly. 'Is he—?'
'He's been in there for two weeks.'
He glanced up blindly, seeing the newly sombre expression on Aoi's face. Their dark gazes caught, and Ruki felt a strange kind of understanding pass between them.
'They'll be letting him out soon,' Aoi said at last, his voice a little slower than usual, 'They'll have to, because of the holiday.'
'Holiday?'
Aoi shrugged. 'With all the families visiting, they won't exactly want to advertise that they've got somebody locked up in a fucking isolation cell.' He hesitated. 'That's why they brought me back down, I think. Don't want Die's parents asking any awkward questions, making them look bad...' he sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, scrutinising the walls and ceiling of the corridor listlessly. 'This place is such a fucking dump.'
Ruki's jaw didn't seem to be working properly: it struggled to form the words.
'Uruha and Die will be so happy you're back,' he managed at last.
'They'd better be.' Aoi smiled wearily.
'Uruha's been...sort of different since he saw you.'
'Different?'
There was no mistaking the sudden focus in Aoi's eyes; the way his attention snapped directly to Ruki's face, checking for lies.
'He's not as bad as before,' Ruki said carefully. 'When you were first taken away he went kind of – kind of inside himself, sort of deaf and dumb. But since we all got up to see you he's been...clearer.'
'Clearer,' Aoi repeated, but he seemed to just be turning the word over.
'Yeah. Like he's more – focussed. Or more present, or something. He's kind of...normal, almost,' Ruki said, feeling flustered, and Aoi smiled at him.
'I've seen him like that before.'
'Yeah?'
'Yeah.' He shrugged, his voice carefully casual: 'Never lasts.'
'Why not? I mean – what happens?'
'He gets things straight,' Aoi said simply, 'In his head. For once, he gets everything straight. And I think it calms him down; understanding things, getting them in the right order; making the right connections. His mind is...it's a pretty confused place, sometimes. He's got so much to work against; he's got so much rubbish in there – so much garbage that was forced in there,' Aoi said, his jaw clenched. 'But every so often, he gets a window. And even if he can't get out of his head, he can at least see what's real and what isn't; he can at least tell what the lies are. He can at least see that there are lies.'
He stopped, looking faintly miserable, and Ruki fiddled awkwardly with the cassette in his lap, flipping the case open and then shutting it again.
'So what happens?' Ruki asked cautiously, 'When he – why does he lose it?'
Aoi's smile was bitter, unhappy. 'Daddy, of course.'
He sighed and stretched out his legs over the floor, nudging Ruki's feet familiarly with his own. He was barefoot, and the bones in his feet looked as thin and fragile as glass.
Dinner that day was the noisiest it had been in a long, long while; almost as raucous as it had been back in what Ruki was already thinking of as the olden days, when Kai was still alive and before Die had collapsed; before anything, really. Aoi chose to make a grand entrance, stowing himself carefully out of sight before strolling in just as casually as if he was coming back from nowhere further than the bathroom; he looked slightly crestfallen to see that he'd arrived there before Die and Uruha. A little moodily, he took a seat right in the middle of an empty side of the table.
Whilst he waited he jittered, fiddling with his chopsticks almost anxiously; as soon as he saw them – walking in together, not holding hands or even touching, but keeping so close together that Ruki would be surprised if there was even an inch of empty space between their bodies – his face broke into a wide, slightly nervous smile.
'Miss me?' he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. It was all he had time to say before they fell upon him, more or less engulfing him; Die's long arms wrapped around his waist and Uruha clutched at his shoulders, pressing his face into Aoi's hair. It was awkward, the three of them huddling together like that; the chairs set around the table were caught in between them, scraping across the floor when they tried to shift; Aoi wobbled and might have slipped off his seat entirely if it hadn't been for the vice-like arms holding him up.
'You look so different,' Die commented, touching the beard growth on Aoi's face with gentle fingers.
'It's coming off, don't worry.'
'I kind of like it, actually.'
'Great; when I shave it off, you can have it.'
Uruha simply pressed his face further into Aoi's hair, his hands white-knuckled with the strength of his grip. He didn't look happy, Ruki thought; his face was hidden but there was something about his body language that seemed to be sagging, almost drooping; he was clinging to Aoi as though he was the only thing holding him up. He was saying something, but it was inaudible until Aoi very gently prised him off, settling him into his own seat. Tenderly, he brushed the hair back from his flushed, miserable looking face.
'Uru?' he said gently, and Uruha frowned, shaking his head.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I'm sorry.'
He bit agitatedly at his finger. 'It's all my fault.'
'It's not your fault.'
Eyes wet and red, Uruha shook his head roughly.
'I'm going to make it better,' he whispered.
Aoi's smile was gentle, but it was obvious that he didn't believe him; the way he touched him, kissed him softly on the cheek, was simply too kind.
It couldn't be said, Ruki thought, that Aoi was back to his old self – not entirely. He seemed more pensive; there were moments when the wide grin seemed to freeze or start to slip from his face for a moment, and when the food arrived in front of them and he couldn't remember the word mackerel for the grilled fish, he started to draw his thumbnail back and forth across his teeth anxiously.
He was trying, though, and that was what seemed to make the difference; his enthusiasm might have been ragged, a little forced, but it worked. He rocked back in his chair and attempted to juggle the three small potatoes on his plate, his face a mask of concentration; he made a game out of trying to fling food into Die's mouth whenever he opened it to speak; when the nurse supervising Die's mealtime tetchily asked him to quieten down, he resorted to a series of vivid and almost violent mimes, mouthing elaborate messages that Uruha announced to the table at large, concentrating too intently and blushing, growing flustered, when Aoi led him to say something particularly questionable.
In his own – admittedly rather obnoxious – way, he was dragging the light back in. He was shaking up the sad ghosts around the table and forcing them to smile, or laugh; he was linking his arms through Uruha's and Die's and laying his head on their shoulders; he was kicking Ruki in the shins under the table. He set his sights on Toshiya; reached out and grasped his wrist in his strong, skinny hand. He led his hand to his water glass and bullied his fingers into gripping it. Toshiya raised an eyebrow.
Carefully, both hands clasped around Toshiya's, he jerked the other man's water glass upwards and sent the contents splattering into his own face.
There was a silence during which not even the nurse watching Die seemed to know what to say.
'What the hell, man?' Toshiya murmured finally, and dripping, Aoi released his hand.
'Now we're even,' he said, shivering involuntarily as droplets of water slid from his hair down the neck of his T-shirt. Doggedly, he and Toshiya stared at each other for a moment; just long enough for Aoi to start grow uncertain and start fidgeting.
'You really are crazy,' Toshiya said at last, but he smiled.
'Yeah,' Aoi responded a little nervously, 'Sorry.'
'Not the craziest, though,' Die said, leaning forward on his elbows, 'I think I'm more nuts, personally.'
'Bullshit.'
'Excuse me? I'm so crazy that when I got out of here, I came back.'
'Both of you are wrong,' Uruha said resolutely, his voice soft, 'I'm definitely madder.'
It was funny, Ruki thought, watching them like that – the three of them crushed in so tightly together that their pointy elbows kept knocking. It occurred to him that he'd always assumed Aoi was the strongest, but look at the other two now: the way they leant into him, shoring him up; the way they stuck by his sides and found ways to smile and laugh and pretend that they hadn't gone through hell, missing him. They were playing along, Ruki realised, keeping things light because Aoi wanted or perhaps needed them kept light, and it was that strange understanding that made him wonder if Die was the strongest – the way he'd taken charge so fiercely when he'd learnt where Aoi was, the way he'd led them – or if perhaps it was even Uruha, stumbling through such a confusing world without each of them, his teeth gritted and his eyes shut, entirely undefended.
He suspected that had taken quite a bit more bravery than the brief, flashy acts of valour that you saw on TV or in comic books.
Maybe it was even all of them, neither one any stronger or weaker than the other. Just – balanced, maybe; just better together.
Ignoring his food and the din of chatter and laughter around the table, he sat back, chewing on his fingernails distractedly. When he'd been with Eiji, there'd been no question about which of them was the strongest; it would have seemed stupid to even ask. Eiji had taken charge completely; had always been the one in control when Ruki was losing sleep and skipping meals and wanting so desperately to see him. It wasn't that he'd meant to miss out on those things, it was just that Eiji had occupied so much of his mind; it had seemed he hadn't needed them. How could he possibly have eaten when he already felt so full up of the other man? He'd listened to The Beatles singing that all you needed was love and felt that it was really, achingly true; it had seemed that he'd drifted through life in a kind of waking dream, sort of like swimming through fog, unable to see further than a few feet in front of him. He had spent so much time waiting for Eiji to look at him, to approve of him, that it had seemed impossible to stop; when his lover called at midnight, one, two in the morning, his cigarette-deep voice husking come over. I want to see you down the dorm phone, Ruki had jumped into his clothes and set off out into the darkness without question.
He remembered those nights now, how he'd shivered with a mixture of cold and nerves in his too-thin jacket, wearing it because it looked cooler on him than his heavier coat. Knowing he wouldn't make his morning classes. Leaning his bicycle up against the side of Eiji's building and pressing down on the buzzer, his fingers growing red and numb from the chill, hoping desperately that the other man hadn't forgotten about him.
Now, watching the three on the other side of the table, he wondered if maybe the only reason Eiji had held so much power was because he had given it to him.
Aoi has power over Die and Uruha, because they love him. But if he loves them right back, that has to give him equal amounts of power over them, doesn't it?
And Eiji had power over me because I loved him. But I never had any power, because—
'Ruki?'
He jumped to attention, flustered. Next to him, Toshiya was grinning a little shyly, reaching out to tug Ruki's hand away from his mouth.
'Eat your rice, loser. Not your fingers.'
Ruki nodded, and Toshiya gave a sort of squint, looking at him closer.
'You okay?' he asked, and Ruki nodded quickly.
'Mmhm. Yeah, of course.'
Almost tenderly, Toshiya elbowed him in the ribs.
'Liar.'
When the meal was over, the nurse sitting next to Die looked incredibly relieved. Whether by accident or design, she had been hit by quite a few of the edible missiles that Aoi had flung her patient's way, and judging by the look on her face Ruki thought she would probably be just as glad to never see the dark haired man ever again; when she left them sitting around the table, their trays finally cleared away, she slammed the door behind her rather harder than was necessary.
Die had a nervy sort of look in his eyes, and Aoi watched him curiously.
'You ate it all,' he said a little unnecessarily; hesitant, Die met his gaze.
'Yeah.'
Aoi paused. 'Thank you,' he said finally, and Die gave a snort of laughter that sounded somehow sad.
'I wasn't doing it for you, bighead,' he said lightly, and Aoi grinned, but his eyes were soft.
'I know, but...'
Die waved his words away, a smile on his face but the tendons standing out in his neck.
'I'm gonna need your help,' he said, keeping his voice forcefully casual, 'Over the next hour or so. Keeping me occupied.'
'I think that can probably be arranged.' Aoi gave a quick sniff. 'It's been a long time since I've done any dancing, you know. Pretty sure I've forgotten how.'
'You mean – because of the electri—'
'I'm kidding,' Aoi said, cutting him off with a laugh that almost sounded like crying. With effort, he turned in his seat, 'How about you, Uru? Think you remember your waltzing lessons?'
Uruha said something too quiet to hear, and Aoi leant closer. 'Huh?'
'I said – I said that I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you again.' Uruha said in a rush, glaring at him fiercely, and very carefully, Aoi touched his shoulder.
'Thanks,' he said gently, and Uruha gave a stiff nod, the sharp expression on his face softening.
For a moment he seemed poised on the point of saying something else, but he gave his head a small shake, getting to his feet. It worked as a cue for all of them; as if he'd given them permission everybody around the table stood up, looking more than a little relieved that the tension had been broken. Ruki left Aoi and Die squabbling over which record to play and headed out into the corridor, ready to resume his vigil outside of the isolation room; when he got into the hallway, though, he stopped in his tracks.
The door was wide open. The room was empty.
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And AOI!!! I'm so glad he's back so the trio can begin taking care of one another again. (I'm worried that Uruha is going to try to do something to his dad in retribution for what was done to Aoi, which would be a disaster.) The "when I shave it off, you can have it" quip made me giggle. Please don't give Die any ideas; facial hair is ick unless it's on Kaoru. And Die ate all his food! That makes me so happy.
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