Disclaimer: I don’t own anything! Except the situations I’ve placed these BR characters in-- oh and Kiriyama--I mean *cough* not Kiriyama :( This is for Liath, thank you so much for the beautiful pictures. Forgive the technical error in this chapter-- I said Kiriyama was 14 a week before the 1st BR in chapter one, but now that’s had to be changed to sixteen for reasons that will become clearer as you read on.
WARNING: This chapter contains explicit sexual scenes between two consenting legal aged young men so if YAOI isn’t your cup of tea please don’t read on.
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//Kawada’s Dream//
On the verge of a cliff top a solitary figure turned its back on him. Strands of ebon hair twisted and tangled in the wind as if enraptured by a snake charmer’s spell each one whipped around wildly, but when the figure turned back the sleek mass was cast back from her lovely visage.
He tried to speak, but the words dissolved into nothingness and even his loudest protests fell on deaf ears as she approached him through a parting wave of soft grasses. Her full lips were curled into a smile, the same sweet, forgiving expression he had seen a thousand times before....
Somehow between the strangely familiar cliff edge and finding him she scattered to the breeze, a vision lost before his very eyes. But he could not mourn, or curse. For on her lips he had read the final words,
“Arigato...”
~Saigo Ni~
In her place stood another person, an interloper who’s mere presence in Kawada’s mind a few days ago would have caused a fit of revulsion. Yet now he fitted perfectly into the void she had left behind. His jagged features and worn eyes were just as frightening and beautiful as any nightmare...
Kawada woke with a start.
For a long time he watched the seconds drift past on the digital clock display at his side, until finally, begrudgingly, sleep drew him in once again.
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Once again Kawada found himself bemused by the novelty of waking up under fresh sheets; in a place where the scent of blood and sounds of carnage hadn’t spoilt. The memories of his dreams were willingly pushed aside in light of what the rest of the night had held for him. The relative stillness of their first night in hiding had only been interrupted by a faint scuffling from the other room which culminated in a flood of yellowed light under his locked door. Curiosity and that same sickening concern had nearly forced him from his bed, but Shougo lay motionless, his very breath suspended in silent anticipation until a sharp choking noise stunned him into action. Light flooded his room, casting back the shadows instantly as he unlatched the bolt and stepped into the anonymous hallway. It felt like a sort of betrayal to sleep in his dead friend’s room, to tread the corridors of their home as if it was his own. Kawada could only utter a silent apology, his attentions distracted by the bathroom door ahead which lay ajar and hallooed by a clinically bright sliver of illumination. As tactlessly as usual he pushed it open, totally unprepared for the sight that greeted him. Kazuo sat hunched over the toilet bowl in a fetal embrace. His roughly bleached hair was drawn back from his face with a trembling hand and his body shuddered with the effort to hold down the hastily cooked dinner Kawada had made for him earlier that evening from the last of his supplies. What really took Kawada’s breath away was the fact that while his body willed itself to protection, Kazuo himself was driving his slender fingers down his throat with detached efficiency.
For a protracted moment Shougo watched on in horror and when his mind finally accepted what he was seeing he rushed over to the other boy and knelt beside him. “Stop, stop it!” Kiriyama recoiled and swallowed roughly, his back hitting the tiled wall. “What the hell are you doing?!” Shougo demanded, in disbelief. Kazuo’s head bowed, “I need to be punished...this way it is right.”
“Kusoyaro, that’s bullshit,” In the stark light Kazuo looked almost as pitiful as he had on the boat; the familiar thin veil of his skin stretched over angular features chilled Kawada even more than before and he felt a fraction of his iron-clad self-control slip away, “Hasn’t Kitano punished you enough?? The government and soldiers. We need punishment like Kitano needs a medal.” His voice positively dripped with an uncharacteristic sarcasm that made Kazuo look up. Their eyes met over the sterile room and Kazuo fought to hold his gaze.
“I just thought--”
“Nothin’, just come back to bed okay? You’re already ill enough without starving yourself.” Kawada’s movements held a measure of caution, but he managed to get Kiriyama back on his feet. It seemed this was all they did recently, support each other, both physically and mentally. They were orphans of circumstance, thrown together and to Kawada’s infinite surprise it wasn’t unbearable. The familiarity of Kiriyama’s arm around him gave him just the tiniest amount of comfort as much as he might try to deny it.
“Kawada?” In the semi-darkness Kazuo’s voice radiated back to Shougo, once he was tucked back safely in a stranger’s bed. The only sign of life was Kazuo’s skeletal hand, caught in a stray beam of moonlight from the small window above them. It was strange to hear his name spoken by his mortal enemy, but Kawada cast all other meaningful thoughts aside. He lived for the here and now on the island, why should this be any different?
“Yeah?”
“What were you like before....?”
Instinctively Shougo knew what he meant, but the question was difficult answer. Before, seemed a million miles away. He shrugged nonchalantly, “Like everyone else I guess. Normal family, normal home, normal girlfriend. Boring if you like.” A little laugh bubbled up inside and spilled over into the darkness. “How about you?”
Kazuo leant into the wan light and gazed at him evenly, “I was no one, but happy to be that way.” He replied simply and then sank back into the black.
“What about your family....?” Shougo winced guiltily, a hazed replica of the photograph he’d accidentally discovered suddenly weighing heavily on his thoughts.
“.....”
“Gomen.” Kawada shifted awkwardly and went to leave. There were boundaries even people with their kind of connection should not cross and he sensed that was just a few steps to many over the line.
“I have no family now.” Kawada wondered with a muted shiver if he meant in the literal sense.
“Me neither, I guess it’s better that way ne? Kitano can’t use them to get to us.” He offered hopefully.
From the dark Kazuo’s hand emerged again and closed over his own. For a second Kawada considered wrenching it away, but something leeched the resistance from him and he let Kazuo clutch at his fingers almost too tightly.
“We’ll kill him together.”
“One day man, one day.”
As the moon was slowly blotted into obscurity by a bank of tattered clouds they sat in silence, both tangled in their own thoughts. In a foreign house, a stolen home they suddenly felt a little less lost.
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//Kiriyama’s Dream//
The pregnant moon bathed them in ghostly light, cast in long, wide slivers through dirtied windows. Everything was as he remembered it; a cramped space filled with his possessions, their shared memories that would linger on longer than these walls could hope to stand. Kiriyama’s family weren’t rich by any means, every penny was earnt in after-school jobs, but they provided more than enough food and a decent roof to live under until it was time for Kazuo to fly free. Life was an ordered thing, full of routine and sometimes boredom, but he enjoyed the stability offered by school and ‘home’.
Outside a sudden peal of lightening ruptured the night sky, followed swiftly by the ominous rumble of thunder overhead. In the semi-darkness Kazuo smiled.
“....Ka-kun?...” The weak whisper he had been waiting for took only a few seconds to emerge from the silent aftermath and a face appeared level with his own, “Ka-kun are y-you a-awake?” The other teenager’s voice shook with restrained fright.
“I am now.” He replied, feigning annoyance.
Delicate eyes, dancing with fear tried to pick him from the dark, “Ka-kun...can I?”
Without a word Kazuo drew back the covers of his bunk and shifted further towards the wall, allowing the boy to climb in with him. “You don’t have to ask Taro-kun. I understand.” His voice softened with each moment. And when his friend was settled, their bodies resting together closely he slipped a finger under Taro’s chin and tilted his face up; their eyes met in a solitary beam of moonlight.
“It’s so s-stupid, being scared of storms at my age...eh Ka-kun? Baka desu...you won’t want me to sleepover any more ne?” Taro laughed nervously as Kazuo’s hand wandered to stroke his cheek reassuringly.
“Shh...stop worrying.” The classmates watched each other in silence, this wasn’t the first time Taro had shared Kazuo’s bed, but tonight Kazuo’s gaze held something more than just quiet compassion.
“I’ll miss you....the trip will be so dull.” Taro broke the stillness, melancholy etched on his attractive face. Kazuo smiled again mischievously, “I saved up...I’m coming with you.” He was rewarded with a tiny gasp and Taro’s hands gripped onto the front of his T-shirt, “Ka-kun! Really?” Kiriyama nodded, a little chuckle catching in his throat, “Don’t want you having all the fun.”
“Ka-kun.” The smaller boy smiled up at him, his expression positively serene with pleasure and more than enough to break Kazuo’s resistance. Without thinking he leant over and kissed the corner of Taro’s lips. To his surprise Taro shifted, pressing himself tightly against the curve of Kazuo’s body, both hands constricted in the material of his top and whispered, “So many storms...I always hoped you’d do that.”
“Nani ga yoroshii deshö ka....?”
Taro smiled again, barely able to form the words before Kazuo captured his lips in another kiss, all his confidence and dominance falling by the wayside as Taro murmured breathily, “You.” In the haze that had settled over them Kazuo wondered vaguely as he peeled Taro’s shirt away, peppering the overly warm skin he found beneath with kisses, was this a dream?
But Taro’s weak moans, the way his fingers tightened convulsively on Kazuo’s shoulders and that bitter-sweet taste of his flesh was real enough for Kazuo. Even if this was a cruel illusion, it was one he would cherish. Taro writhed impatiently beneath him; caught up in Kazuo’s delicate touch, with an enthusiasm that made his friend ache.
“Ka-kun...please...motto öku...motto..”
Again Kazuo laid his hand over Taro’s damp cheek, amazed by how much his very presence ignited something deep inside the usually shy brunette. Taro stilled for a moment and listened to the synchronicity of their breathing, the rhythm of two hearts beating so fast. He choked down another gasp as Kazuo slipped his hand between them and tugged his boxers down, his own bare flesh brushing against Taro’s invitingly. The tremor of Taro’s voice was matched by the shivers that ran unfettered down his spine, each kiss, each touch pushed him further from the cold, uncaring world they both shared and closer to Kazuo.
“Daijobu ka..?”
A soft whisper of breath against his neck startled Taro back to life, “Hai...go on...please...” His words sounded so weak and pleading, but even in the darkness he could picture Kazuo’s smile, there all the time his hands roamed over Taro’s chest, down the line of his slender hips, coming to rest on the inside of his thigh and eliciting a breathless murmur of approval. Kazuo moved slowly now, his inexperience beginning to show, but Taro had absolute faith in him. When finally, after several fumbled attempts Kazuo entered him, Taro blinked back tears only to find he felt more complete than ever before. The pain subsided as Kazuo reached between his legs, gently distracting him in time to each measured thrust.
In all their sixteen years neither Kazuo or Taro had known such closeness existed.
They moved as one beneath the duvet, a chorus of stifled cries emanating from the bunk, until eventually Taro arched, his whole body tensing and buried his face in Kazuo’s shoulder. Seconds later Kazuo closed his eyes, biting back a sob as he too climaxed, sinking down onto Taro’s chest to bathe in the comforting warmth of the aftermath.
“Ka-kun...?” Taro whispered, as he felt the other slip out of him a few minutes later, strong arms curling protectively round his waist.
“You’re alright aren’t you?” Kazuo asked with quiet anxiety.
“Of course....I’m better than okay Ka-kun...I just wondered...”
“Yes?” The other boy’s body practically sagged in relief and his held Taro close.
“Does this mean I can sit next to you on the coach?” A faint giggle spilled out into the night and Kazuo grinned, “Maybe...now rest...you need it.”
“Oyasumi..koibito..” Taro uttered tenderly, before Kazuo could reply his breathing evened out to the song of sleep and he left Kazuo to watch over them both contentedly.
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“Kiriyama, wake the fuck up.”
“Uh...”
“I said you were bloody laz--”
“.....”
“Kazuo?” Kawada’s impatient tone fizzled out as he sat up properly on the bed. In the back of his mind a measure of annoyance for falling asleep so easily on the same sheets as his enemy, forced a frown onto Kawada’s lips, but it was soon washed away by the sight of the man lying next to him. Kiriyama was staring fixedly at the ceiling with an expression of such horror and quiet sorrow that even Shougo’s frozen heart couldn’t help but give a stifled jolt of compassion.
“Kazuo...?”
A tear rolled lazily down his ashen cheek, pooling at the corner of one positively skeletal cheekbone before disappearing beneath the ragged strands of his badly bleached hair.
“.......leave me alone.....please.”
Something inside Kawada almost made him stay, to drag an explanation kicking and screaming from his only companion if it took forever, but another, more instinctive impulse and maybe the anxious edge to Kazuo’s words sent him out into the hall. In silence, Shougo curled his fingers round the door knob and pulled it shut with a deadened click. Whatever complex tangle of thoughts were going on in Kiriyama’s messed up head, he knew deep down for now he could be no help.
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(Five hours later)
Looking back, Kawada would wonder what drove him to knock on the door again. It was the seventh time he’d tried to breach the impenetrable barrier Kazuo had erected between himself and the outside world since the morning. //And why shouldn’t he?// Shougo mused as he knocked once more. //It’s what schizophrenics do right?// Even Kawada didn’t need a psychology degree to recognise the symptoms, maybe he was generalising, taking the TV induced vision of psychotic behaviour he’d been spoon-fed, but he doubted it. It was the BR initiative, it made people and it could break them just as easily. Kazuo could have been their shining example of success...
Shougo laughed and leant his head on the wooden panel of the door, cushioned by the secure covering of his bandanna. When it suddenly swung open he collapsed into the unexpecting arms of the boy stood behind.
Even with a fractured leg Kazuo managed to take his weight, both arms locked tightly around his waist, with only a superficial stumble back. Shougo looked up with wide eyes, but his expression soon returned to a vaguely sardonic normality.
“Feeling better?”
Kazuo nodded, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly, “Just a bad dream.” A little chuckle escaped the young man in his arms and Kiriyama practically dropped him in surprise. Before he could fall Shougo’s reflexes kicked in and he jumped back with athletic grace, leaning against the doorframe as if he hadn’t even noticed how close Kazuo held him a second ago, hadn’t felt those haunted eyes on his skin.
“A dream? Now you really are going soft eh?” His tone teased a scowl from Kazuo and it heartened him to see some of that familiar spark in Kazuo’s gaze.
“I could still kill you number six.” Kawada could tell instantly it was an empty threat and waved Kazuo away dismissively. “I’m all you’ve got remember.” As he walked back towards the kitchen he could still feel Kazuo’s eyes boring a hole between his shoulder-blades.
But, despite all his sixth senses Kawada couldn’t see the smile on Kazuo’s cracked lips.
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~TBC~