Fan Fiction ❯ (No Title Yet) ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Man, it was really coming down, now, the snow. Rei was driving very, very slowly in the city streets, the snow blinding all the cars and making for terrible driving conditions. He grunted, looking around to see where he was, exactly. Only thing was, he was halfway between one block and another. Another few minutes and there'd be a street sign, but not now. He groaned, irritated. Just what he got for leaving a little later than planned. His mind ran over the delay, another police officer having made a mistake while on duty nearby. Rei, being the closest to him, was sent to clean up the mess, seeing as the officer who had made the mess was, he would say, incapacitated.

But, at least he'd had enough time to grab the Thai food, as he promised. And, to tell the truth, the weather wasn't all that bad when he'd started out. It was only after he'd gotten down the first few streets that driving had become a nightmare, and even seeing anything had become impossible. A sigh breathed through Rei's lips. He'd better call Yasuo, tell him he was going to be late. Once again stuck in the mindless traffic, Rei was not going anywhere and he took off his jacket, turning down the heat and loosening the mandatory necktie before reaching into his pocket to pick out his cell phone. Returning his hands to the wheel as though there was any point, he quickly pressed the vocal speed dial, speaking 'Yasuo' into the receiver as firmly as he could. The telephone began to ring. It rung a few times, and no answer. Suddenly, a woman picked up. Rei automatically raised an eyebrow.

"Hello," she said, and paused.

"Hello," he replied, nonplussed, "Is Yasuo-"

"I'm sorry, your phone has no service here. Please try again somewhere else."

He hung up, in a fouler mood than before. "Crappy new-age phone, telling me when I have service and when I don't. Worth shit, if y'ask me…" And he hesitantly replaced the phone in his pocket, looking up into the white sky for no other reason than to watch the blizzard. "Must be the storm that's interfering… damn it, if Yasuo was ever right, he was right about this damn storm." Sitting back in his seat, he moved the car forward as the line of vehicles advanced, catching a glimpse of the street sign. Only another block. But it'd be like an eternity, what with the slowpokes on the road. He heaved another sigh, leaning his forehead on the steering wheel, figuring even going to sleep wouldn't bother these guys. How the hell would they know, anyway?

And, as traffic lurched to an uneasy start again, and then fell back to standing still, Rei couldn't help but let his mind think over the night to come. No doubt he'd be stuck at Yasuo's place while the storm blew over. No doubt he'd not be going back to work. With a small grin, he closed his eyes, pushing the button to play the CD, letting Beethoven soothe his aching ears.

---

"Hey, Yasuo! I'm home!" Rei yelled into the apartment good-naturedly, a smile on his face and a large brown bag in his hands. Thank God the food was still warm. But the seemingly empty apartment scared Rei slightly. Yasuo was not on the computer, as he had expected. The screen was black. Nor was Daisuke anywhere to be found. That was odd. Usually the cat would be all over Rei by now-

A low yowl disrupted his thoughts and made him jump, nearly dropping the food. He placed the bag on the counter nearby, closing the door behind him, shaken.

"Daisuke…?" He whispered, calling the cat. Out from underneath the couch crawled the once-white cat, now smeared with dust and grime. His ears were back, telling of an uneasiness unable to be voiced by the feline in a tongue Rei would understand. He bent down to motion the cat nearer, but Daisuke was hesitant, large blue eyes wide with what looked like panic. This caused the little red police light to go off in Rei's head. Something must have happened to render Daisuke so fearful. The cat was always so cheery.

"Daisuke, come here…" Rei whispered to him again and, quickly, the cat looked around before ducking low and slinking towards him, recognizing him and his scent as friend and not foe. The tom huddled close to Rei's legs, winding himself around his owner's companion as though to plead with him to please help, to please ease the fear and anxiety now filling the apartment, the cool air sucking the very life out of their breath. Rei could have sworn he felt a chill and, picking Daisuke up, walked over to the thermostat and turned it up, though he knew it was not as cold as it seemed.

"Where's Yasuo?" He asked Daisuke, talking to the cat as though he expected a sort of answer. "In the shower?"

And, of course, the cat could not respond, curling up in Rei's arms. Clicking his tongue, however, Rei put the cat down on the couch for a moment while he took off his scarf and coat, creating a little nest for Daisuke, into which the cat happily climbed, comforted by the warmth and scent of a friendly person. He still didn't look completely content, however, and made himself as small as possible. Rei's eyebrows furrowed. Daisuke honestly didn't act like this usually. A normally fond cat, he was always under foot, frequently spreading himself over any length of someone's body, begging for a massage. Rei was such a sucker for cats. But, now, Daisuke was curled up, huddling in the protection of Rei's scarf and coat. It made him wonder. And worry. What had happened to Yasuo…?

His eyes flew up, scanning to room. The computer wasn't even off. It was sleeping peacefully, the monitor's light blinking. On, off, on, off … on, off … Something about that set Rei at unease. He didn't know what. Maybe the thoughts racing through his mind, silenced by his undeniable will to stay calm and not succumb to alarm, at first seeming entirely plausible and then completely abandoned by reason somehow unnerved him. Confusion, disquiet, the faintest glimmer of hope, and a shadow of fear were all mixed together … on, off, on, off … the onslaught was nearly unbearable and the utter stillness of the apartment was not helping. There was no noise at all, and the snow just made everything softer, stifling all cries for help, for the faith that everything was okay, and to ease the tension with even a startling, sudden sound. For Rei would have even forgiven a heart attack just to be put back on the solid ground of surety. Something about the alternating hope and fear was even worse than knowing, in a way. On, off, on, off. He's fine, he's out. On, off, on, off. Where could he be? Something must have happened to him. On, off, on off. Daisuke's acting weird. Something's not right. On, off, on, off…

Suddenly, something caught the corner of his eye and his head turned. There was a piece of paper hanging on the bedroom door. He was surprised he hadn't seen it before and mentally kicked himself. It took a moment for it to register. His mind lingered too long on the uncertain hush of the room in which he stood and it delayed the reaction to the red, red linings of the words scrawled across the page. And it could not be.

Rei rushed forward, sure that was some sort of knife protruding from the wood, careless enough now not to identify it. And could that carmine writing be … not blood, not blood … It wasn't, it wasn't. The words … Rei let out a jagged breath, eyes sure to be deceiving him. Was not possible. Not possible. Not … He very nearly ripped the note off the door, very nearly pulled the lighter from his pocket and set it alight, very nearly jerked the blade from the door and threw it across the room. A million thoughts streamed through his mind as his knees began to give way. He tried to pick out one, any one, and hold a light to it, try to decipher his own sanity in the whirlwind of obscenities that wound round it, like red tape, refusing entry. Bastard … Fucking son-of-a-bitch … A hand raised to his mouth, trying to keep his tongue from flying from its place. For as long as he could remember, he never felt this sickened. For as long as he lived, it had only been once his stomach had done three back flips, landing hard on the pavement and splattering all over the concrete. But never had mere words threatened him with madness. Usually he held his temperance in high regards, being a cop, but now it seemed his stomach for this had disappeared, abandoning him, adrenal glands left to pump dread, more and more dread, into his veins. He felt as though his heart was about to burst. And it was, he could have sworn. All of a sudden, his head took to spinning, leaving him grasping the wall for stability, swooning, his head spinning. He closed his eyes, but that just made it worse. How long had it been since he was last this frenzied?

Wavering, he prayed. He had never prayed to God before, but, in all his life, now was the time to do it. He had been atheist since he was a kid, never really believing in God. Maybe some higher deity, maybe some sort of power such as fate or destiny. But the God shit fed him up until he was too full of other people's crap. He spat it all back out again, deserting the faith. But some help right about then was what he could really do with. Please let it be a lie… The words tumbled from the jumbled, twisted pail of his mind before he even knew it and left his standing there, staring at his hands which had, strangely enough, left the wall without him noticing. Lend me the strength…

Lend him the strength to do what? Again, the plea tumbled from him before he was aware. Lend him the strength to do what? Find out the truth? Was he scared? Could he not turn a simple doorknob? Had his wrists locked? Had his knees turned to jelly? Was he not strong enough to find out whether Yasuo was okay or not? Was he too concerned with himself to even think about Yasuo? Shit … Can't handle this. What was wrong with him? Why didn't he think it was a joke? Why didn't he think of even considering the fact Yasuo might be okay? Why was he jumping to conclusions? Why did the note affect him so much? Wasn't the time for hysterics after he'd found Yasuo, hurt and maybe bleeding? The images were too strong, conjured up in his mind, and he squinted his eyes shut again, groaning in horror.

First open the door… He silently coached himself, but his body did not respond. I can't just leave him in there if he's not okay … I need to open the door, first. A shaking hand found the brass knob and he turned, pushing gently, The door didn't move and he began to panic. What if he couldn't get in? What if Yasuo was in there, bleeding to death? What if he was alone and cold, no one near him, no one to comfort him…? Soon enough, however, he found the mind to calm himself. The knob's not turned all the way. No need to freak out. Shit, what's happened to me? What the fuck has happened to my police nerves? He continued spinning the knob, whispering hasty comfort to himself within the confines of his mind.

'It's okay. I'll open the door and he won't be there. It'll be all right and I'll look in the bathroom and there he'll be, changing. He'll yell at me and I'll step outside and then I'll thank God, I'll thank God he's alive because this fucking note gave me such a scare. He'll be okay, I'll be okay, it's not true, he's in the shower, he's not in the bedroom. He's not in the bedroom. He's not in the bedroom.'

But he neglected to listen for the water, which was not on.

The door clicked, and swung open.

Infinity.

And Rei wanted to cry.

He'd wanted, needed to turn away at the form lying on the bed. He couldn't see anymore. It'd tear his mind to shreds. All he could think as he looked on was, Yasuo Yasuo Yasuo Yasuo Yasuo… He was frozen where he stood, feeling his heart palpitate in his chest, felt his veins throb. The sight of Yasuo crumpled on the bed alone caused a hand to cover his mouth. But he was also gagged and blindfolded. That was not right, Rei childishly realized. People don't sleep with gags and blindfolds. No… His eyes remained on Yasuo's face and he fought to keep them there, didn't want to see anymore, sure he'd go crazy. But curiosity persevered, finally winning over contempt and disgust, trailing Rei's eyes down to Yasuo's bound hands. Tears formed behind his eyes. Was that blood on his hands?

Rei looked away. He was unable. He was incapable of seeing anymore. The revulsion was too great. But guilt turned his eyes back. This was about Yasuo, not himself. How dare he turn away from his friend, bound and bleeding on the bed? A whimper fell from his lips. Eyes tentatively flew back to the bound hands. They slid down.

Rei felt nausea rise to his throat and immediately turned back away, trying to swallow his disgust. But the image kept coming back to haunt him, teasing at his mind and straining at his pulsing heart, spinning his stomach. It could not be, it could not be. But his own eyes did not lie. Yasuo was lying on the bed, and not only blindfolded, gagged, and bound. His jeans were undone. His shirt was pulled up. Could it be that the bastard who broke in also…?

Rei felt the vomit persist and, unable to keep it down, rushed to the bathroom, flipping the toilet lid. He retched, grasping the white porcelain desperately. Empty bathroom. Yasuo was not in here, of course. He was not changing. He would not tell Rei to go away, call him a pervert. He would not thank God Yasuo was alive. He didn't know that. The water was not on. This caused more spew to rise and he retched again, feeling desperation squeeze his heart. 'Jesus Christ,' he whispered to himself, not caring if profanity now left his lips, once again denying the belief in God. God had mocked him, beguiled him into thinking Yasuo was going to be okay. For he had heard stories of people who had prayed to God. They prayed to live, they prayed during sickness, they prayed to be forgiven. And Rei had always heard that God had answered them. And now, the one time he prayed, it was for another person, perhaps the dearest person to him in his life. He had prayed for Yasuo's wellbeing. It was not a prayer for himself. He was not being selfish. And this he had been denied. Screw this God crap, was the immediate answer and he felt more bile surge to his throat and he gagged, spitting.

Yasuo was not okay. Yasuo was not okay. This repeated itself in Rei's mind until he groaned, covering his face with his hands. Damn it … Damn it … When would he pull himself together? He had to check Yasuo's pulse, make sure he was alive. In this state, he wasn't even able to drag himself to his feet.

The son of a bitch who did this would dearly pay.

Rei sputtered, his black eyes flaring a brilliant flame.

Retribution would be his.

Letting go of a tearless sob, he pushed his face away from the toilet bowl.

How dare he…

Leaning back on his knees, he hoisted himself up to the sink, washing out his mouth and rinsing his hands.

The sick bastard…

It took Rei a minute to get his feet beneath him. He tried hard not to think of Yasuo while standing, afraid he might collapse again if the mental pictures came back to him. He flushed the toilet, his bile disappearing. He wiped his mouth, suddenly dizzy. His head swam and he groaned, turning away, leaving the bathroom.

Outside the door, he paused. He knew he had to help Yasuo, bound and gagged and alone in there … But he was so afraid. He couldn't find the bravery in him to walk into that room. However, he couldn't simply leave him there, wait for him to wake up, try to undo himself. He couldn't do that … but he couldn't do it himself, either. Why? Why was he suddenly so cowardly? Why, suddenly, was he so hesitant to help the dearest person to him? How incredibly selfish was he being? When Yasuo had been through so much, so much he couldn't even begin to imagine, and lying there on the bed, his hands sticky with blood? How filthy must he feel? How badly must he feel? And how pathetic was Rei, unable to help in any way, afraid…

Afraid of what? What could he be afraid of that he couldn't possibly overcome? What was that dire?

Yasuo's tears…

Never, since he'd known him, for about a year and a half now, had he seen Yasuo cry. Of course, he hadn't ever cried, either. But it was different. Nothing terrible had ever happened to either of them during the time in which they'd known each other. Neither of them had had a reason to cry. It had all been happy times in the park, in the restaurant down the street, at the cinema. Neither had either had to bear a burden so heavy and crippling. But, now…

He couldn't bear the sight of Yasuo's tearful eyes, his fearful eyes. Never could he be able to stand the screams, the moans, nor the grief. It tore him apart, shredded his heart. Yasuo was so cherished. Yasuo was the one thing that kept him from going insane after a long, hard, crazy workday. Yasuo kept him going, Yasuo breathed life into his lungs, perhaps without even knowing it. And, now, Rei being the one who would possibly ultimately do the carrying; and the knowledge, not that he wouldn't have support anymore, but that Yasuo was now probably incapable of his own support, tore him to tatters. It made him feel so helpless. What if, like all the other rape victims he'd seen in the line of work, Yasuo was unreachable? What if he cut Rei off? What if he isolated himself? What if he committed suicide, like so many others?

Rei clenched his fists, feeling his knees begin to give way again. But he caught himself, grabbing onto the sheer wall for support. He was so weak … So weak…

Fearfully, he rounded the corner into the dark and bleak bedroom. He was still there. Immobile, silent, just lying there. For how long? How late had Rei been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty minutes? Thirty? How much had he failed him? Meekly, he approached the bed, sure to keep his eyes on Yasuo's face. At least it wasn't in as bad a shape as the rest of him. Slowly submerging himself beneath the surface of frigid reality, he tentatively sat on the edge of the mattress. It was almost too real … Shockingly vivid in its cruelty, and making Rei want to sincerely weep. Pressing his fingers into the crook of Yasuo's neck, he sobbed with relief when he found a pulse there, his friend's skin warm to the touch. It also made him realize just how cold his hands were, and pulled them back. He turned away, resolving to find a knife to cut the bonds before waking him. Standing, he walked away quicker than he had come in and, as he passed the bloody note, he wondered.

What should I do with it? He didn't want Yasuo to see it. It might upset him. But, then, if he took it down, what would he do with it? And what about fingerprints on the knife? He didn't want to get his all over the blade, for fear of becoming an imminent suspect. Then, an idea struck him. Carefully, he extracted a handkerchief from his breast pocket and very gingerly held it between his forefinger and thumb and the handle of the weapon. Gently, he pulled. It came out quite easily, as though it hadn't been pushed in very hard at all. Sighing lightly, he watched the now-loose note float to the ground, and, not wanting to smudge his fingerprints over it, let it stay for the time-being walked to the kitchen, pulling a large freezer bag and a smaller zip-lock sandwich bag from under the sink. Dropping the knife into the smaller bag, he carted it and the larger bag to the note, which he slipped into the bigger bag, flattening it and pressing the air from the plastic pouch. That said and done, he slipped them inconspicuously under the couch, making a mental note to pick them up later, on his way out.

He made his way over to the kitchen again, jerking open the silverware drawer. He pulled out a kitchen knife with trembling hands, looking it over, eyes catching the glint from the windows. His lungs pressed a sigh from him and he ran a finger along the sharpened side idly. Would he have to hide the knives from Yasuo, like he suggested to so may other families with suicidal members?

But that was stupid! Why would Yasuo commit suicide in the first place? He's strong. Something like this they'd get over. He'd help Yasuo. Get him help. He'd stick by him, stay by his side. He'd protect him, for this surely was not the end of the nightmare. His eyes closed and a grimace ran over his lips, wrinkling his forehead. Finally, he pushed himself away from the counter and back towards the bedroom.

It was hard, again. At the door, he couldn't help but freeze. It was overwhelming him, the terror of it all. And there was Yasuo, peacefully unconscious. And, yet, who knew whether he was having nightmares or not? A sigh fled from Rei into the bedroom. He remained a moment more, no longer on the brink of tears, having hardened his resolve. The knife was clutched tightly in his hands, so tightly that his knuckles blanched white. His lips were tight, his shoulders cramping. There was enough tension in the room that, if he waved his hand in the air, he would have felt it, almost like a barrier keeping him out. Or keeping him in. He inhaled deeply, and, allowing no time to stop, stepped into the dreary bedroom. Yasuo didn't even stir when Rei sat down on the edge of the bed again. Gently, he gripped Yasuo's hands together and pulled them nearer to himself. He flinched when his hands became wet with Yasuo's blood and his breath stuck in his throat. Freezing for only a second, he again eased his friend's hands nearer. The knife, shaking in his tight hands, glinted in the dull window's light. He tried to relax; he was sure to cut Yasuo up even more if he attempted to free him with the trembling blade. A moment passed with Rei glaring at his hand, willing it to calm. He turned his thoughts to something else, to the snow, to the traffic, to his car, to the food, anything besides his helpless friend to still the shivering. The food … Was it cold by now? How long had Rei stalled, coping with his own disgust? A sob escaped him. Stupid, stupid, stupid … His chest tensed, and he was left without breath. Forgive me … Yasuo, please forgive me … He sucked in air, closing his eyes against his friend, the blood, the knife in his shaking hands, what he was afraid had happened to Yasuo. Yasuo, Yasuo…

Swallowing his hesitation, he let his eyes fly open again, tightening his vice-like grip on the blade. He could do this, he would be able. Focussing all his strength on steadying his hand, he carefully maneuvered the edge between the flesh of Yasuo's hands, sticky with blood. Rei stilled his breathing, watching the knife lean against the twine. And, gingerly, slowly, he moved the blade up and down against the thread. He barely noticed he was not breathing, the anticipation filling his lungs instead of air. His hand holding his friend's was shaking fiercely and he desperately endeavored to calm the shivering, though unsuccessfully. The first thread of the cord snapped and Rei jumped, the knife slipping and falling against Yasuo's palm. Rei froze, panting heavily, only realizing now that he had not been respiring. He continued the fervent breathing rate, carefully replacing the knife against the binds. He whispered a silent sigh in thanks that the blade had not buried itself in Yasuo's flesh when it had fallen. He blinked, though his eyes remained closed a little too long. He soon resumed the motions of the knife, however, tediously cutting the twine. More strands snapped away. He made progress, however slowly, surely. And, each time a thread broke, his breathing would resume, for whenever he'd begin cutting again, his lungs would refuse to take in new air. His heart was pounding against his rib cage like a captured animal, furiously beating beyond what would have been considered the norm.

Finally, after what seemed millennia, all the cords had been cut. Yasuo lay unbound, yet blind and mute, and still unconscious. Slowly removing the bonds from Yasuo's wrists, he grimaced, more vomit threatening as he extracted the lines buried in his flesh. He had strained … Rei felt tears conjure themselves to his eyes and slowed even further, ever more gingerly tending to the wounds. They were not deep, but he had so often seen the cuts from wires and it sickened him to know that these now appeared on dear Yasuo. A sob fell, and he placed the knife and cut fetters aside.

Gently, ever so gently, he bent over and grabbed a tissue from the tissue box beside the bed, wiping his hands thoroughly. Coughing, he refused to look at the stains on the insignificant tissue, and stuffed it carelessly into his pocket. He took a deep breath: the next plunge awaited. Yasuo's gorgeous grey eyes, veiled by some dirty cloth-- Rei's composure staggered, agitated too much by the sickening reality he had been forced to drop down to with a thud for oh-so-long. Minutes had passed. How many minutes? How long had it been since he was out in the snow? Was it still snowing? Was the world passing them by, going about its business? Was this their personal hell, locked up inside this room? Was everyone else oblivious to the torment, the torture stripping his mind of all sanity? Where was the heaven, the earth he had heard people talk about? Had it abandoned him already? Had it abandoned Yasuo? He cursed under his breath, but laughed at the irony. He was certain he had almost gone mad and wiped his eyes with his bloody hands and sat back to stare at the wall. Almost immediately, he looked back to Yasuo. No more stalling. Why was he stalling? No more delays. How long had he already delayed himself? No more impediments. How many impediments had already cost him precious seconds, precious minutes, precious trust? The conviction that Yasuo's faith in him was surely lost had gripped him and he wept for it.

Leaning over Yasuo's face, he bit back tears, diverting his eyes as his hands found their way to the knots behind his head. They were tight and he held his breath in vain, diligently loosening the gnarled cloth. Slowly, he eased it still looser. It was not yet undone … He leaned closer.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a blow from below caught him off-guard, hitting him in the head. Jumping back, he fell from his perch beside Yasuo on the couch, hitting the ground with a loud thump. Grunting softly, he immediately looked up through blurred vision, the loud pulse of blood running through his ears. Eventually, all became clear. Yasuo sat atop the bed, furiously clawing at the blindfold, cowering into the covers. He could not get it off, and Rei had no instant desire to rush and help him. The simple image of Yasuo alive and animated caused his heart to leap and a simple, lightened, childish thought entered his mind: everything would be all right. It'd all turn out okay, so long as Yasuo was alive.

Rei soon terminated it, looking on with a sadness so incomprehensible it seemed to cover all; the black lining to the cloud that had devoured his heart and soul. It was the final layer to all the emotions plaguing him and he gripped the floor as though it would suddenly fall away from him, dropping his down into the depths of hell, as though it could be deeper than it already was, right there, in that room.

The blindfold fell off, and Yasuo stumbled backwards, falling off the bed heavily. Rei heard scrambling from behind the mattress and listened intently, his senses heightened to the point of all stimuli being painful. The scuffling stopped, and Yasuo's head slowly peeked out from behind, eyes wild and scared. He had not removed the gag. He'd known there was someone there, someone he couldn't see. The assailant? The gag was surely not as important.

Instantly, recognition poured into the poor boy's eyes and he turned away, disappearing again behind the bed. It was silent for what seemed like forever.

Rei didn't know what to do. His hands were sore from clutching everything so tightly, his back was sore from falling off the bed, his eyes were sore from watching the scenes unfold without him and with him at once; his whole body was sore and he closed his eyes tightly against what was outside, attempting to calm what was inside first. No luck. His heart beat too fast from him to comprehend, and his brain was running at a thousand miles per hour and climbing. Everything was passing at super-speed, so fast he couldn't catch it, only saw glimpses of what it was: fear, disgust, sickening fantasies of pain and loss and blood, there was blood everywhere, and vomit, and he felt more bile stir. He shook it off, resigning to the deafening silence of reality, reality, reality…

Yasuo was standing up again, free of all bonds. Stillness seemed to communicate for them, and Rei seemed to think he was staring at a stranger, some blond boy who'd had the scare of his life. His wits seemed to have left him, and his eyes were dark and frightened, like some wild animal cornered. He looked smaller, like he'd been crumpled up into a ball and then unfolded. And maybe it was just the light, but he seemed to have aged another twenty years.

Slowly, his hands moved up to his face, fingering the frames of his glasses, which rested crookedly on the bridge of his nose. Rei hadn't even noticed them and naively reasoned maybe it was the reason Yasuo looked so foreign. The lenses had not broken, and Rei saw the relief. Raw emotion was scrawled all over Yasuo like a child with a marker would do. He read, constantly, fear, relief, shock, confusion, desperation … over and over and over, the words shifted, changed, their colours undulating as the letters rewrote themselves.

Yasuo's eyes met his. Exposed. Frenzied. Crude. Naked. Black. Morose. Fearful. Dazed. Bewildered.

His lips formed an unsaid word, voice box frozen over like the pure world on the outside, on the outside looking in, the white snow frosting everything so completely and it was so cold, so sterile, so silent, so deathly silent. Distantly, he could hear the snow, and its brightness in the grey of the world. He saw Yasuo's eyes glitter behind his glasses before he ran out of the room, panic molding itself around his brain.

The water switched on. He could hear it running through the pipes embedded in the walls and ceiling, and wondered at how much it sounded like the dull roar rumbling through his mind. Blank white, and black. Groans and retching he could hear as plainly as day and the toilet flushed disdainfully. Irony struck him. Only now was Yasuo having a shower. A laugh ran through his teeth as tears fell through his eyelashes.

Crimson words gushed from the depths of his subconscious, scrawled on an anonymous piece of paper tacked by a knife on a once-virgin door. He could not hold the sobs back any longer.

Got you both now Rei. Got you both.