Sunday 1.18 - A Temporary Escape

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji stared at the contents of his closet and felt completely uninspired. Usually he could be ready for the club scene in 3 minutes or less, as about eighty percent of the clothing he owned had been bought with that in mind. Tonight though, nearly everything he picked up gave him mental flashbacks to Ran's disapproving glare over breakfast.

Why is that bothering me? Ran wouldn't know fashion if it came up behind him and smacked him over the head with a two-by-four. He's not even going out with us. Ferchrissakes, what's my *problem* today?

Everything pink now occupied an unhappy pile on the floor. Everything else that Yohji imagined Ran hating occupied another, equally unfortunate, albeit larger pile next to it.

That left a whole lotta black.

Yohji rolled his eyes at himself for caring, and grabbed an unusually subdued shirt off the rack.

Peeking into the hallway, he saw no sign of Ken yet, so he wandered to his door and knocked lightly.

"Hey, Kenken?"

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[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

So that was what his existence reduced to? Yohji was 'the nightlife man' on a simple list of expertise. He suddenly felt fairly depressed.

"Anyone can fake the ropes at this scene, you know," Yohji said quietly, "it's hardly a skill."

He'd emptied his drink much faster than he'd intended to, and resigned himself to calling back the waitress.

"Katana care would probably buy you a more poignant evening." Yohji looked at Ken, struggling to keep his unease under wraps. "I kinda doubt you're going to have much fun with me here, unless we get thoroughly wasted. And even then...." He forced himself to shut up before Ken decided to get the hell out of Dodge.

"Anyway. I imagine you'd get a rather comical look from Aya if you came up out of no where and asked him for sword polishing advice," Yohji tried to change the topic, "from Ran, I mean. Look from Ran."

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"I kinda doubt you're going to have much fun with me here, unless we get thoroughly wasted. And even then...."

The ball stopped rolling in the glass. He felt the urge to curve inwards, as if deflecting a sudden punch to the gut. How strange.

Ken swallowed the drink in two quick gulps, only just able to withstand the potent burn. There was a reason he didn't indulge in hard liquors often, and this was a drink meant to be savored slowly.

"Anyway. I imagine you'd get a rather comical look from Aya if you came up out of no where and asked him for sword polishing advice...from Ran, I mean. Look from Ran."

Yohji knocked Ken on his emotional ass.

The whole setup was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. There should be a cruely beautiful redhead sitting in this chair. If Ran were here, the picture would have been just right; his physical appearance, demeanor, hell, even his normal dry and cutting conversation would have done nothing but add to the subtle elegance of the place. If Ran were here.

If Ran were here...Yohji would have been happier.

But the swordsman wasn't here. Only Ken, sitting in that chair with department store shoes and Sapporo mentality. It was as false as the molded ice slowly, slowly melting in the empty glass. He couldn't blame Yohji; he'd been nothing but kind, offering him several chances to stick to his own kind, to familiar ways. But he'd wanted...he just wanted--

--to be seen

"You should bring him here." The words came out on their own and Ken didn't bother with a filter. The glass was put down none too gently on the table between them, and he continued before Yohji could (lie) protest. The hurt in his eyes shone through quite clearly, and he made no attempt to disguise it.

"I forced this on you, and thanks for trying to--you said we could go really party but, I wanted this and you didn't..."

I thought there was more to me than Ken the buddy, Ken the true-blue. But you knew better. And here you are. This is you, your real world and I'm not welcome. Not like Ran would be. No. He'd fit right in. I'm just the baby's breath to his scarlet rose.

"...if the two of you stopped fighting like a married couple and I dunno, fought or talked or bend him over a table for Christsakes, just do something but--"

Oh no. Backpedal! Crossed the line...said it out loud. Like it hasn't been floating around up here for MONTHS now...will he throw a punch?

"--shit, I'm sorry...but I'm not, you're driving us all crazy and you need..." His explosive babble slowed down a bit, "...to bring him here and...show him this side you, if this is really you, and... maybe you wouldn't piss each other off so much, and we could eat breakfast in peace... and your last words to him wouldn't be...um. I'll be back."

With that he got up, intending to make his way to the men's room.

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or bend him over a table for Christsakes

Yohji sputtered and nearly choked on his newly refilled drink.

What? what?

Ken's words were jumbled and sharp and coming out of nowhere.

Except Ken wasn't the kind of guy who said things out of nowhere. He was straight-forward and down-to-earth and didn't say things he didn't mean. Which meant there had to be something to cause him to say the unfathomable things that were spouting out of his mouth.

But, what?

Yohji managed to regain his composure enough to meet Ken's eyes and then that was another blow all over again. The hurt. Why was Ken hurt? Yohji had thought he was boring Ken, dissapointing him more than likely, but he wasn't prepared for upset. What the hell had he said?

It seemed to be about Aya. Yohji had barely mentioned Aya and it was in response to Ken's own comment. Where the fuck was all this comming from?

Yohji's confusion was interrupted by the realization that Ken was about to *leave.* Oh Hell no. He was not going to let Ken throw him for a loop like this and then simply walk away. He stood up quickly, smashing his knee against the corner of the table in the process, but managing to close his hand around Ken's arm.

"What.... Ken. What the fuck are you talking about?"

The danger of losing Ken now disminished, his mind had a chance to slow down and play back Ken's words. They stung. The last time words had cut that deep they came from behind a visor and contained the phrase I love Masafumi.

I wanted this and you didn't...

Yohji took a deep breath and stared at Ken. His voice was low, people were staring.... "Ken. I was really glad you wanted to come out with me tonight. If I was acting weird it's because I really don't understand why you wanted to come with me, not when you could have done something with Omi or Aya Chan. But I really wanted you here. Except I don't think I'm any good at this, and I don't know how to act, not when you seem to have all these expectations. But beyond that I haven't a clue what you're fucking going on about."

"Maybe we should go outside...." he didn't let go of Ken's wrist.

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Yohji had a snake grip, fast and surprisingly strong; Ken had a choice.

He could joke this off, give a breezy apology (hey, sorry, had a rough day, want another round?), twist out of the grip and scramble back behind his walls.

He could rip Yohji’s fingers off and bluster about this whole thing being a waste of time, call a cab, and never bring it up again.

He could go home and let the nightmares about Farfarello plague him again. The wounds were freshly opened. He might get sleep sometime in the next three months. Possibly.

Or he could put aside his legendary stubborn pride and admit that he needed help.

Despite his reflexive need to stand on his own two feet, to always pull his weight and do his part, Ken was a man who inherently needed to believe in something. Regardless of whether it was a team, a cause, or even humanity as a whole, he could not stop himself from putting his trust in other entities.

And if preventing himself from falling apart meant believing in Yohji, then that was what he’d do.

Ken had to force himself to swallow. A deep inhalation, a slow exhale, and he nodded his agreement. He was going to have to be very, very careful with his words. If he couldn’t get his message across, it would mean the end of everything. Yohji might shun him, turn the rest of the team against him, or become convinced that he was unstable and have their bosses put him away…or take him out.

You’re paranoid, Hidaka.
That doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.
………………
I sound like Ay—Ran.

“…can we talk in the car?” Asked so softly it barely carried across the music.

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Yohji nodded but still didn't release his grip on Ken. While he trusted Ken, he didn't quite trust Ken's emotions, and he didn't want this to turn into a chase (because it would if necessary, the things Ken said would inevitably drive Yohji mad if they didn't talk about this.)

He glanced around a little nervously, but the people who'd been staring seemed to already have lost interest and gone back to their own alcohol veiled worlds.

He let his hold ease up a little as they worked their way out of the room. It probably looked strange--two grown men practically holding hands--but Yohji didn't really care. In fact, his capacity for expending energy on what people cared pretty much ended with his clothes. If they didn't like him he would tell them to go....well. No need dwelling on that.

For a moment the notion of locking the car doors crossed Yohji's mind, and made him feel guilty. He wasn't doing a very good job of earning Ken's explaination. He pulled out a cigarette as a nervous habit, then realized that that was a terrible idea for a conversation in a closed car and set it down again. Not knowing what else to do with himself, he drapped his arm around Ken shoulders; it was his instinct when people were upset, and Ken was definitely upset. Nevermind that Yohji was a little upset as well.

"Okay, I hope I don't seem like a complete idiot when I say that the things you said in there went straight over my head. Explain?"

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It took Ken a minute or two of silence to turn emotion into language. Where should he even begin? This whole thing was a crusted-over knotted jumble that even the sharpest blade couldn’t cut. But how did that saying go? In for a penny…

So he sunk back into his chair, closed his eyes, and turned off most of the stimuli around him until there was nothing but the stretch of his lungs expanding and detracting, the give of the seat beneath his legs, and the reassuring weight across his shoulders.

“It was supposed to be a happy ending. She—Aya-chan—woke up. We saved her. You remember the tower and…” He gestured vaguely. “I…I wish I smoked…” It took another slow breath before he could continue.

“Farfarello almost killed me. He was going to kill me. I’ve dealt with death, we’ve all been to that edge but this was, this was madness. It was terrifying. He looked me in the eye and I freaked out. It wasn’t the window into a soul. It was a door to Hell and he was going to take me there, and I couldn’t fight back well enough—he couldn’t feel…and I couldn’t scream. Helpless. I was going to die there helpless and broken and alone—I still have nightmares that wake me up in a cold sweat and…”

His stomach clenched, and he bit back the urge to vomit as the scene replayed itself behind his eyelids. But the dam had a leak, and everything was leaking, whether he wanted it or not.

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“But then Omi showed up out of nowhere and saved my ass…it was different though. He looked like an angel of justice or something…he dragged me out and I could have kissed him…I wanted to.” Shallow breath, hitch, in…and out.

“It was suppose to be a happy ending, Yohji.” He repeated himself. “We tried so hard…and after all that shit we went through, we’re supposed to be happy. Ran got his sister back. We survived. But fuck, Yohji, there are days when things are worse than when they started. Ran can’t see the forest for the trees. He can’t be the guardian if the thing he’s protecting is growing wings of her own. And he didn’t forget how to live…he never got a chance to fucking LEARN.” His rambling was beginning to froth and churn, fingers clenched and unclenched, yearning for the familiar shield of leather and metal.

“Same with Omi. I hate it sometimes, I hate how he’s never going to get a chance to be normal, never be able to do the things guys his age do without having a running program in his head of safety precautions or looking over his shoulders for the enemy around the corner. On the other hand I’m glad of it, because…Weiss…keeps us together and it’s a vile thing to think about your best friend, someone you care about, I hate it—“ He punched his fist into his own leg; it helped him calm down a little bit.

“You…you seemed to be alright, or at least you do a good job of seeming that way to the rest of us…but ever since Aya-chan moved in, it’s like she’s a reminder of just how fucked up we are. Ran focuses on her, he’s too intent, too intense, and he’s not bothering with you. Not like he used to, you used to snap at each other but it was just, y’know, your thing, no real bite behind it, just bark. But now he’s got her and you…I saw you wilt once when he ignored you to go hover over her. And you try harder to get him to look at you, so you fight with him, and he does see you, man, he does, but he’ll catch himself and either yell at you or shadow her and Omi plays mother hen, and Aya-chan…”

He opened his eyes but stared straight ahead at the windshield; he seemed to deflate a little.

“…it’s not her fault, she’s just caught in the middle. She’s a symbol of the good stuff, the things you kill for to keep safe and innocent…she could have been any one of my kids…I…I’m in the background, good ol’ Ken, count on him never causes problems, everyone has problems.”

A bitter smirk crossed his face. “I’m falling apart, I can’t talk about it, what the hell am I going to whine about, nightmares? Boo hoo…I was fine until today, the son of a bitch just showed up out of nowhere. I didn’t have my weapon, Yohji. He could have…I was helpless all over again. All I could think of was back then. I lost it. I tried to splatter his brains on the supermarket floor. My attack failed…”

He started rubbing Ken’s back, occasionally running his fingers through his hair, gently saying, "I know, I know it's hard. We've all been through a lot. Just let it all out; let aaaaaall that poison out."

He could taste whiskey in the back of his throat.

“We were going to go out. I wanted to be somebody other than Hidaka Ken, just for a night…so I escape. And you were there, Mr. Friday Night…it was selfish. But then you were so different, and I realized I never saw you, and I wanted to check it out, see who you were when…who you were when we were looking the other way. But it seems like the person who needs to see it is Ran, it might hold his attention and you act like that’s what you really want. But I…I forced my way into seeing it, but I’m not good enough, and I didn’t want…I didn’t want you to save me, I just wanted to be good enough. I’m just me, and I don’t want to be right now…and I can’t fix it. I can’t fix anyone.”

With that last statement he pressed his palms against his eyes and waited for the fallout.

[skyrat13.livejournal.com]

Yohji didn't think he'd ever heard Ken say this much before; at least not about anything important. And that was sad, because it only drove home what Ken was saying. For four people who *lived* together, they spent a horrendous amount of time not saying anything important.

It's funny how he had always assumed Ken was more or less okay, because Ken's temper caused him to deal with stuff. Yohji used to envy his straight-forwardness. How many times did it seem like a problem might have gone away if he could have just yelled out what he was thinking, or punched somebody? But he’d spent too long carefully building the personality that he’d chosen to present to the world for that. That kind of release could shatter it, and he wasn’t sure what would be left. Ken had mentioned showing Aya “the real you,” but Yohji honestly wasn’t sure who that was anymore.

He felt an odd sensation creeping up his stomach. Tightening; like he was being encircled by a boa constrictor.

Did he really pay that much attention to Aya? Ken’s words were ringing true. Shit, he hadn’t even noticed that so many of his thoughts were tied up by the man. Why? Why did it bother him so much when Ran ignored him for his sister? That was a perfectly reasonable excuse for him to be ignored. Who *wouldn’t* focus on Aya Chan over him? It would be expected before you even took into consideration Ran and Aya’s past. He was jealous, and he hated himself for it.

“You’re…very perceptive.” Yohji’s voice sounded funny to him, he felt a little disjointed from himself.

He’d somehow managed to ignore just how bad things were getting.

“I….shit. I didn’t even notice I was doing that, Ken,” he turned to look at Ken and saw that he was covering his eyes. It caused him to frown, he didn’t like the way Ken seemed to be bracing himself for Yohji to lash out, “Hey, what are you doing?” He reached over with his free hand and gently pulled one of Ken’s hands away.

“I forget sometimes that you and Omi are paying attention. I don’t really think that I’m affecting anyone when I act…I mean when I pick fights like that. But….” He paused for a minute, it was hard enough to admit it to himself, he couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud, “but, you’re dead on.”

He stared out the window for a minute, contemplating if he really wanted to cement what a horrible person he was by saying what he was thinking. But Ken had opened up and Yohji owed him to return the favor.

“If she weren’t Aya’s sister I think I would think the world of her. But I just can’t get past the way Aya acts now. I resent her and it’s not her fault and she doesn’t deserve it. I hate that. I find myself wishing she’d not woken up. No, that’s not really true. But I wish he’d sent her away somewhere safe, instead of trying to shelter her in front of us.”

He sighed. Some night out this was becoming. What had become of their agreement to “not be themselves”?

Okay, time to redirect the angst. This was about Ken. Yohji’s Aya-problems were just a side note. The real issue was that Ken seemed to be falling apart.

“We all have nightmares you know. It’s okay to talk about them. It’s not whining. And…”

Good enough? The fact that Ken seemed to care what he thought about him floored him. Moreso, it confused him. “What makes you think you’re not good enough?” he asked, “I’m a really lousy judge of character. I don’t understand why you’d even care what I think.”

“But I definitely don’t think you’re not good enough,” he added after a pause.

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“But I definitely don’t think you’re not good enough.”

The air left his lungs in an audible whoosh. He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding it.

“You’re somebody who’s good with secrets,” he stated after a few deep breaths. “Because you’ve seen and done so much…I was hoping you wouldn’t judge me harshly. Ran’s involved in his own world. He might care a little bit but…” Ken shrugged heavily. “Omi cares too much…and he does so much already. The last thing I want to do is hurt him more.”

Ken turned his head towards Yohji. “Much as I hate to admit it, I’m losing it. But who do I turn to? The only person who knows me…y’know…*knows* me…freaks out if our other profession is even whispered about. Aya-chan might be near. I can’t get a release. I look at you, and you smooth everything over so well, and other than being tied up in Ran…no offense…”

As if realizing he was babbling again, he paused, collected himself.

“We’re both fucked up, Yohji. But right now…I need someone to be fucked up with. I need you.” He wouldn’t beg, and this still felt too close to whining for him, but for now pride could shut the hell up.

“Can’t do it at home. Can’t talk to Omi because…” A harsh swallow, “he’s part of the problem. I’m getting really tied up in him…like I was with Kase back in the day.”

There. The words which were lead heavy in his gut and buried in his brain now floated in the air, hanging over his head. It felt strangely, painfully *good*, like the burn after a workout.

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"If there is one thing I can accommodate, it's being fucked up" Yohji almost laughed.

He let his arm slide down a bit so that it wasn't so much draping across Ken's shoulders as holding them.

"You say that I smooth things over well…but…. I don't. You have no idea how much I don't." He sighed, and tapped the unlit cigarette against the car door. "That fight. When I killed Neu… that had nothing to do with the mission. It wouldn't have mattered if she were in Schrient or not. It was strictly personal. I completely lost touch with reality when we were fighting."

He exhaled slowly, and turned to face Ken. "All this time I've been telling myself it's just a job. But in that moment, I was out for blood. I didn't just want her dead, Ken, I wanted to destroy her. It scared the shit out of me. I went on such a bad bender after that, you have no idea."

"I don't actually handle this shit any better than the rest of you, I think I'm just better at not showing it. But I also think you care more than I do. I used to think my life was fucking perfect, if you can believe that. Then I lost everything and…well. I just never felt like any one person could be lucky enough to find that kind of happiness twice in one lifetime. I didn’t expect things to ever get better. I’ve never expected to live very long since this started, you know, it’s like I’ve just been riding things out and waiting to die.”

He fell silent for a moment, he’d barely been able to admit that last bit even to himself. "I…don't know. Maybe you should try telling me about Kase."