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Apparitions (side ficlet for Displaced) An X/1999 vignette Sephy Kamui knew he was dreaming as soon as he opened his eyes, sunlight warm on his face and the scent of salt thick in his nose. His neck was at an odd angle but strangely it didn't hurt, blinking as something white flickered in his line of vision, fuzzing then sharpening, gauzy lace curtains whispering against his skin. He watched them, the lift and breath of air pushing at them, a brisk tang that lingered on the tongue, touching everything with balmy fingers, the chimes just outside tinkling in response. There was a pillow near the base of his spine, pressing through the thin fabric of his shirt and he wondered why he was leaning against it instead of resting his head there, feeling more relaxed, more comfortable than he could remember being in a while. Everything here felt ... safe, close and warm like a cocoon, threatening to melt if he pressed too hard, an intricate lattice that for all its seeming strength and vividness, was no stronger than spider silk caught in the rain. He didn't always have this particular dream. A lot of the time, he revisited things long past, uncovered from the weight of time's sands if only to torment him, to remind him of better days, of climbing trees and listening to Kotori giggle as they played in the dirt, all the castles they had made no better now than those of air, unreachable and broken before his Destiny. And then there were the other dreams, dreams of fire and judgement, the echo of every wound he'd ever been given felt there, until his skin was a patchwork of scars and waiting orifices, taking every sword that was shoved into them with an almost audible pop. In those dreams there was nothing but the sound of his voice, silent screams that were drowned by the sound of drums calling him to war, the clatter of a sword as he fought, limbs no longer under his control. Fought and fought and still in the end, he was nothing more than the lamb, awaiting the butcher for slaughter. And the butcher always wore Fuuma's face, smiling almost kindly as he held the blade to Kamui's throat and began sawing -- Passing a hand over his eyes, Kamui sat up, feeling the mattress sag beneath him as he did so, hands resting against his knees and staring at the threadbare carpeting as he tried to clear his head. He knew better than to dwell on those things, those other dreams, knowing that sometimes he had only to think and they appeared, called as if by name and after awaking every other night this week in a cold sweat, he had no desire have this end the same way. Besides, how often did he get to go home these days? Home. He was home. True, it hadn't been home for very long, just one in a series of places his mother had uprooted them to when they'd fled Tokyo the first time but it was the one he remembered most clearly. The place had been nothing special, just a small beach house, rickety and airy in that way that only truly old houses can be, full of bleached shadows and sand that never seemed to quite vacuum out of the carpet no matter how many attempts were made. He remembered his mother complaining about that, about small sandals that seemed to track in buckets of sand no matter how hard he tried to knock his feet clean or how long he stood under the outdoor shower. He didn't even really remember where it was, still seeing the world from the passenger seat of a car window, almost having to stand in his seat to look out as the outside passed in dappled colors, lost, golden afternoons bleeding into dusky evenings, the shudder jerk of the car stopping barely rousing him when they'd arrived. What he really remembered was the next morning, the sound of wind chimes waking him up, a sweet resonance that filled the room, calling him out of sleep, smelling the sea air for the first time ever and feeling that somehow he'd left the world he'd known completely behind. At the time, he hadn't known how right he was. With the loss of Kotori and Fuuma still fresh, it had perhaps been the best distraction he could have asked for and maybe that was what his mother had intended, actually spending time with him as she never had before and never would again, the two of them walking for hours along the shoreline, picking up shells or feeding the gulls. Maybe it was her way of easing the separation, trying to prepare him for the rest of his life when every tie he formed seemed to unravel even as he was left to grasp at it. One last memory of safety and love and all those things that would be taken from him. A month, maybe two or three, and then they'd gone again, the interminable passage of days picking up once more as reality intruded and his mother roused him out of sound sleep one more, tugging his unresisting limbs into clothes then leaving him to rub his eyes at her while she hastily grabbed a suitcase, throwing what fell to hand in before taking him by the arm and leading him away. To the car, to the road that stretched forever before him, the beach just inches and feet from their house, completely dark, swathed in that time between the night and the first blush of morning, so that he was denied even one last glimpse, with only the sound of the ocean tumbling restlessly against the shore to say good-bye to. Everything had seemed so cold then, stripped of its temperate familiarity, time somehow made older, as if he'd been transported to some other land, his fingers clutching at his mother in nascent fear as she carried him to the car. He remembered asking who would feed those gulls, the ones who had come to depend on them, hopping across wet, muddy sands for a chunk of bread and his mother ... Well, she'd just shaken her head, adjusted him in his seat, making sure the belt was secure, the slam of the car door her only true answer. And they'd driven away, Kamui left with a hollow in his chest, another ache that somehow became the same as the one for Kotori and Fuuma, missing it, missing them terribly and promising he would never, ever forget. Not anyone or thing he had ever loved, holding onto them until even those memories seemed almost mythic, the glitter and magic of old fairy tales of a time when he could be happy and loved, something that got lost in the shuffle later on. Until 1999, he had always been part of the human world, moving through it, but never really letting himself be touched by it except in the most peripheral sense, too afraid of finding something to hold to and then having it torn away to reach out again. His mother had taught him reliance but that reliance had become on himself, on having to protect for himself what he cherished most, and not trusting that anyone else would look out for him except to fulfill their own selfish interests. This place was a slice of happier times, when he could still believe in the power of wishes made on birthday candles or that the handsome prince would always win because he was just and true and that there would be a princess at the end of the tale, waiting for him. When he could still believe in love and hope, that there would be joy if you just looked hard enough. And now -- now Kamui felt as if he were scraping the bottom of the barrel where all those things were concerned, shivering as he looked around, running fingers over the chipped surface of the nightstand beside him, feeling the heat, a sultry breeze that circulated in, seeping through his shirt but not able to enjoy it. Kamui slid his fingers into a ray of light, watching rainbow patterns disperse as he did so and instead of smiling as he might once had, his spirits sunk lower. He would never be free. This place, for all it's promise of paradise and rest, was nothing more than an illusion, a damnable lie. This was something other people could have, could enjoy, but he would forever be on the outside of because whatever force that had decided his Destiny refused to let him be, to let him roll to a stop and sit. Kamui wondered what it meant, to have this dream again after so long. The last time he'd dreamed of this place -- Well, that had been years and lifetimes ago, before falling into an endless dark of nothing, cradled in a different sort of embrace, where he was no one and nothing and that had been alright, too. Because it hadn't mattered who or what he had been, only that he was now and would be forever part of the whole, of something greater than he'd ever known, connected in a way he never had been before. Done. Finished. He should have known better to think that anything for him would ever be finished. He'd probably die and find himself being reincarnated because the powers that be wanted their favorite kick toy back. After not having any buildings dropped on him or spikes rammed through his body lately, he was probably long overdue. "It's been a while." Kamui closed his eyes, his chin dropping against his chest, lips rising in spite of himself at that familiar voice, one he would know anywhere, even if memory and wit deserted him, responding and damning himself for that, an expectant, almost wistful tightness that had once been pleasant settling over him. "I wondered if you'd still be here," he cracked his eyes again not quite turning his head, "Subaru." The other man shrugged, pausing for a moment before stepping into the room, as if he was asking silent permission, "I'm where I'm needed to be." "And still as cryptic as ever, I see." Something close to a smile ghosted over pale, elegant features as the onmyouji shrugged again, stopping just short of him. "It's your dream," Subaru reminded him. "Not really under my control." "Yeah, well, given the way things go, I'm not sure it's under my control either," Kamui muttered. He leaned back, hands underneath him as he studied Subaru, the other exhibiting no disconcertment at all, simply crossing his arms and waiting. He was much the same as Kamui remembered him which was also an indication of his dreaming state because this was not the man Kamui had left behind before Fuuma had sent him to coma-land. Not the broken man who had lost himself at Rainbow Bridge or the darker shadow that had taken his place. No, this was the Subaru Kamui had always seen, had always believed was there underneath the surface, filled with subtle lights, the grief he carried so close not crippling him but somehow strengthening him. This was the Subaru who had saved him, who for no other reason that made sense had pulled him from the hellish prison of his mind. The one who had risked his life and lost an eye to save him from Fuuma. The one who had held him close at those moments most painful and still known when to let go. Kamui wished that man had been real but all of those delusions were just the products of an ailing heart, seeking understanding from one who wanted no such things and had told him as much just before the end, before that final confrontation. And yet, Subaru had cried. For him. If those last few jumbled seconds of consciousness he remembered could be trusted. And somehow that made everything that much worse. "There's no such thing as control, really," Subaru spoke again, shifting so that the skin of his arms seemed to glow as the light filtering in from the window touched them, his sleeveless black turtleneck softened, making him appear not quite so severe. "Been there, done that. We had that lesson already," Kamui fidgeted. Once he would have been horrified at his rudeness, never countenancing that he would say such harsh things to Subaru. Once, but maybe that person had died too, leaving him to wonder who or what he was supposed to be now. To wonder that he could feel his chest threaten to burst on him, filled to the brim with all the things he had once felt and yet none of it felt alive, just leaden and hard. "School's been out for a while, Teach." Subaru didn't frown but his smile faded, crossing to the window, fine dark hair lifting as the breeze caressed it, "School is never out, Kamui. You should know that. There are always new things to learn." It wasn't chastising but Kamui could pick up on when he was being chided for something and he wanted to bristle, but instead he slumped forward, clasping his hands between his legs. "Can't I just stay here for a while? It's what I wanted -- before. But I never came here." "You left this place behind. It wasn't needed. That's what it's all about, keeping what you need close." "Then why are you here?" he shot back, glaring at the floor. "You tell me." He hated that voice sometimes, that serene voice that nonetheless managed to sound disapproving or disappointed without much alteration because Kamui knew, could feel those emotions even when they weren't apparent in the other. "I don't know," he admitted, peering up at Subaru, studying his profile, skin filled with a golden translucence as the light splayed across his features. Emerald eyes caught his as Subaru turned, the distance between them melting away as white fingers slid underneath his chin, a thumb stroking his cheek. "I'll never leave you, Kamui." He reached up, closing hand over the other's fingers, tears spilling down his cheeks as he whispered, "You already did." When he lifted his eyes again, it was mismatched ones that met his, amber and green forever circling, disharmony where there had once been serenity, and a despair that matched his own. But it wasn't the same, not at all. The man whose eye Subaru now bore was dead, for all that the former Dragon of Heaven acted as if it were the other way around. Kamui mourned the man left behind, the one who had watched over him with such tenderness, gifting him little touches and words that had made him feel -- alive, hopeful in a way he hadn't since Kotori's death. That man who was now a ghost in the halls of his own thoughts, creeping in the back of his mind, the remembrance hurting nearly as much as Fuuma's desertion, the hatred he glimpsed in dark eyes just before the sword had exploded through his chest. "I gave you something of myself, Kamui. It's not something that can be taken back, not even if I wanted to," Subaru's hands were now gloved, no longer even the comfort of flesh against his skin, the scent of leather strong as they brushed at his tears. He was dressed in mourning black, his face a pale flame, eyes burning out of milky skin and dark lashes, terrible and beautiful in a way he had never been before, like an avenging angel lacking only a flaming sword. He turned his face, torn between wanting to escape that intimate touch and wanting to lean into it, the feel of gloves surrounding his cheeks and chin strange and desensitizing, goose bumps swatching down his arms in response. Subaru knelt down so that he was looking up into Kamui's face, sitting back on his haunches, "I'm here. And that won't change. But you can't stay here anymore. There's a whole world out there, Kamui and so much you have to do but you can't do it if you live here, if you reach for things, for shadows that have already burned away." "Subaru --" His voice shook as Subaru moved, leaning upward to brush his lips along tear-streaked cheeks. "I --" One gloved hand slid down to rest against his chest, a palpable weight, holding his breath as lips moved along his cheek by passing his lips to the other side, tasting his tears, drinking them as if they were wine and Subaru couldn't get enough. It made this worse, his trembling intensifying as he reached outward, fingers sliding against the pulse point of Subaru's throat, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath the pads of his fingers. "You know what you have to do, Kamui. And you know how to be strong. You just have to do it." "I don't want to leave -- " He left the 'you' unspoken, already well aware that time had passed, that he had already been left and was clinging to a shard, a memory, and in that he was no less guilty than Subaru had been. "You've lived for too long caught in between. It's time to do what you want, Kamui. And I can't help you with that. The only person who can make that choice is you." "That sounds familiar," he muttered and Subaru smiled. "But no less true for that," Subaru said softly. "You can't hide anymore. Not from who you are. Not from who you were. Even now, even after everything is decided, there's still more to do. People like us -- we don't get to stop or rest. At least not for very long. So take one last look and then you have to go back, you have to live again in the world and be a part of it. Or else nothing you did will matter at all." "Sub--" He got no further as those hands touching his cheeks tightened, Subaru's mouth turning and finding his, lips moving with infinite care and slowness. Saying good-bye, Kamui realized and he made a small sound, lost and desperate as he responded, his tears having slackened but the taste of salt still lingering there, burning as he tasted them on Subaru. His fingers tightened against Subaru's throat and shoulder, trying to hold to him, even as he felt himself beginning to unravel, the dream escaping him, until that kiss, the pressure of warm lips against his was the only thing he felt, skin fading, sliding through Subaru and away from him. Taken away one more time and he twisted, shuddering softly into waking, tears spilling over his nose as he hugged his pillow, his mouth still tingling. 'You know what you have to do.' He did. But that didn't make things any easier. ***End [ back ]
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