#40 Theme 32: Never Again - KAT TUN; Tora/Hiroto
Title: Overload
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 032 Never Again (KAT-TUN)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: AU
Comments: The sequel to Wanderlust which has taken me forever and a day to post and is probably lame, but heck I wrote it anyway. This is inspired by The Cardigan's Overload so take a listen. Poopie ._.
[ Wanderlust ]
Overload
Eighth floor.
Room eight.
Lucky number eight.
Kanji strokes speaking of better things to come.
Huddled in the corner, Tora had to wonder if they'd made a mistake and this was actually the ninth floor. Ku, agony, torture. There was no other way to explain the terrified sobs shaking Hiroto's frame or the wailing noises all around them. Every nerve in his body screamed run but there was nowhere to run. Above the deep rumbles of thunder and barest flashes of light seeping into the dark closet, Tora could hear footsteps. Sharp, clattering heels that alternated between their hard wood floors and the few throw rugs decorating its surface.
They couldn't go out there.
There was someone out there.
Where was help when they needed it? His call down to the lobby had been cut short with the power but Tora knew it should have been enough to garner attention. He was desperate, scared, it rattled his voice, strangled his lungs. They were alone.
Or at least he hoped they were alone.
They couldn't risk going out there. Things had broken, Hiroto jerking in his arms had been proof of that, but he couldn't feel the heavy gusts of stormy wind a shattered window or forced door brought. Adrenaline spiked through his body making it hard to breathe as he clamped a hand over the younger's mouth to muffle a whimper. His head swerved towards the sound of their bedroom door being kicked in. Tora was scared and Hiroto knew it. Shaking the sweaty palm off and biting his lips, Hiroto turned and gave him a strained smile, eerie in the faint mobile's light.
"Take my hand." It was breathed shakily into his ear, small body curling around him even as their one source of light flickered and went dead too. "We'll hide until it's over."
It was hard knowing there was nothing they could do, helpless amidst a sudden invasion. Everything was pitch black, blurry with tears, and foggy with panicked breaths.
And then their closet door was next.
Loud footsteps and angry noises seeped through the ceiling and Tora wished he had superpowers, wished there was a reset button, wished they could both sink through the floor or just briefly not exist. But all he could do was thread long fingers through Hiroto's hair and press a sweaty forehead to his own neck, shielding the younger man from the sight and sound, blows of whatever was ripping their closet door off its hinges.
Tora had time to see one faces - eyes, nose, and lips - before splitting pain pierced through his skull and the world went infinitely black.
---
They were dancing, giggling and laughing again. Round and round, blurry circles of round and round, spin and swirl, bare chests shining warm in the sunny noon light. Laughing, Tora tumbled down onto the living room sofa and stared up at the ceiling fan. It was going round and round too, twirling with its jangly now-fast, now-bright chains and making the big glassy bulb at its center quiver with every movement. Unscrew, jiggle, unscrew, fall. Incredulous fascination kept him glued to his seat when it finally fell. He could have jumped up and caught it, but it was hypnotic destruction in the making, beauty to watch.
As Tora stared, the large bowl of glass unscrewed itself and slowly crashed to the floor. Flipping in midair over and over, round and round, and shattering into a thousand pieces right on the very spot they'd just been dancing on. Shards flew this way and that, mirroring their slow swaying of just seconds ago.
Round, round, round. Now bared light bulbs flickered harshly at each swing of the fan.
Blinking, Tora's eyes refocused on the television set against the far wall - another witness to the chaos. The reflection of a body stood stock still on its black screen. Turning around, Tora looked over the back of the sofa to find Hiroto resting motionless in the doorway, fingers clutching a bag. His eyes were blank, scanning the scene with a wordless nothing.
A trickle of red slid down his chin.
"Hiroto?"
---
Tora was pissed.
Hiroto didn't know what was wrong, especially inside his head.
He found himself waking up in a new place every day and he couldn't quite remember why. They had fought again hadn't they? About what, Hiroto didn't know, but first it was the expensive watch, then the new TV they didn't need, then petty thing after petty thing. Tora, then Hiroto, then Tora, then Hiroto. Then an expensive ring Hiroto definitely didn't need thrown back in Tora's face. Then Tora hitting Hiroto. Tora had hit him. For the first Tora had lost his control and left the apartment in a rage, seething pride still too strong to apologize.
He couldn't remember much more before Tora left, but after crying himself to sleep he'd somehow woken up surrounded by crumpled magazines, the TV remote, shoved halfway under the coffee table with his feet beneath the couch. There weren't any marks, nothing that ached, so he couldn't just assumeTora had done this to him. Why would Tora do that?
It was only one slap, right? One that stung and left a red mark, nothing too harsh and nothing he probably didn't deserve. Tora was the patient one, meeting the younger's flitting moods and soothing things over even if he was tempted to let his irritation show. Hiroto hadn't been in the best of moods this time, still bitter over the grief he'd gotten for the watch when Tora had gone and bought a television of all things. But rings... rings meant something. Rings meant they could overcome this.
Sighing, Hiroto curled up on the couch, twisting the heavy metal around his finger, salvaged off the living room floor and now the only thing keeping him company as he waited. It was the weekend. They were supposed to be happy on the weekends, work free and together. Instead Tora was gone, still not back from wherever he'd run off to last night, and Hiroto was worried. He was angry and hurt, but still worried because he loved Tora and he didn't want anything to happen to him.
Looking at his watch, Hiroto stared at the long hand ticking round and round, waiting for noon to pass, waiting for Tora to come home. His prayers were answered by the slam of their front door, followed by a string of profanities.
"Fuck- Hiroto! Stop putting your fucking boots in middle of the hallway! And get over here and clean up all this mud!"
His brow furrowed, tentatively easing off the sofa to edge closer to source of ruckus. He didn't ever leave his shoes in the hallway and hadn't left their apartment since the day before last. Tora knew that. But as soon as he got closer, Hiroto wondered how Tora had even managed to find his way home. He reeked of alcohol, the stench floating in wafts across their apartment. He couldn't even pull himself off the floor from where he'd tripped over a pair of Hiroto's boots - in the middle of the doorway and muddy just like the older man had said.
Red shot eyes turned to glare at him.
"Tora?"
---
Tora's eyes snapped open to the sound of his name.
There was a dull ache beginning to build up in his right temple, a throbbing that softened the edges of everything in his line of vision and, Tora was surprised to note, he definitely could see. The world was no longer black now. Instead, shades of dawn painted their closet floor and colored Hiroto's face above him an unnatural pale.
"Tora? Are you okay?" A soothing palm came up to feel his forehead while the other brushed his hair aside.
Groaning, Tora heaved himself up and looked around, heedless of the small gasp that escaped Hiroto's lips when his fingers came away dark and slightly wet. He waved him off. "It's okay Pon, it doesn't hurt that much."
The door was definitely gone, fallen over onto the other side of their bed, the curtains were down too. But Tora was surprised to find that all their bedroom windows were still intact, obscured every so often by the soft shower of rain, but still all in one piece.
"How long was I out?" he asked. It had to be morning at the least, though it was hard to tell with how dreary the sky looked.
"I don't know," Hiroto replied, "Longer than I was."
Brow furrowing, Tora quickly turned back from where he'd been surveying the rain heavy trees outside. "Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" He didn't wait for a response, simply pulled Hiroto close to inspect his face, running his fingers through straggly hair just to make sure. He seemed okay, if anything Hiroto's eyes looked brighter, darker than normal, leftover fear still shining in them, but sparking with light humor as he batted Tora's prying hands away.
"I'm fine! I probably just fainted or something," he laughed uneasily, finally calming down enough to rub at his tear stained cheeks. "It was a scary storm!" he added when Tora merely eyed him dubiously. "Come on Tora, let's just get out of here before the walls fall apart or something." Hiroto wiggled out as he said it, hauling the older man up cautiously before running off to get shoes, their wallets, and whatever else he could think of after sending Tora to check his head out in the bathroom mirror.
There wasn't any red trickling down the side of his face, Hiroto would have freaked if there were, but when he ran a hand through his fringe Tora felt the crust of dried blood near his hairline. Sighing, it was dry and scabbing and there was really nothing he could do about it so it probably wasn't too serious, he made his way to where Hiroto was rustling through drawers and cabinets down the hall. The rest of their apartment seemed to be in relatively good shape. Only a few lightweight things had fallen, paper scattered, plates and frames broken, and the furniture appeared to have shifted a bit. All the windows out here were in one piece too.
"Did you close the front door?"
Looking up from where he had his lips pursed, knapsack in hand, Hiroto made a questioning hum in response.
"The door's closed," Tora pointed.
"Maybe the wind did it on its way out," he shrugged. It made sense - wind in, wind out; door open, door close. Reaching over, Hiroto snagged Tora's mostly dead phone from his hand and dropped it in a bag.
"Ready?"
"Let's check in the lobby first."
---
The door wouldn't open.
Staring out the peephole Tora gave the doorknob another frustrated yank. "Really?" he growled to no one in particular, kicking the wooden obstruction before swiveling back around. The wind had probably jammed it closed or blew something in front of it. "Where are all our screw drivers?" The day hadn't started off too well and it seemed determined to only get worse.
Dancing on his feet, Hiroto gave the doorknob his own tug to no avail before suggesting the kitchen. "The hallways are empty though," he murmured in a hushed voice. "If it were an emergency don't you think there would be people leaving or alarms at least?" He looked through the peephole again. Their floor was definitely empty.
"Maybe they left without us," Tora grunted, pulling out drawer after drawer to rake through the contents.
"Let's just go through the fire escape."
---
Tora didn't like heights. Hiroto liked to climb trees and drive to the very tops of mountains, look over cliffs into sea gorges, but Tora much much preferred to have his feet on stable ground. The segments of metal that made up the fire escape were practically gaping wide open with holes for his feet to fall through. He gulped and wished he hadn't looked down even as adrenaline pumped sweat to his palms. Looking up proved to be just as dizzying. The grey blue clouds were swirling in the manner of most storm clouds, rushing past overhead and making Tora feel as if he were moving, falling, spinning all at once. He had to blink a few times to clear his head.
"You okay there tiger? Need me to hold your hand?" Hiroto chortled. He knew very well what heights did to Tora. "It's not your head hurting is it?" he asked, tone suddenly worried as he reached out and grabbed Tora's hand anyway.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," the other reassured. "Just... the weather is weird. The clouds are being all freaky... I don't like heights," he muttered.
Hiroto let out a relieved laugh, "Well then we should hurry up and get down, shouldn't we?" Clasping Tora's hand firmly, he proceeded down the fire escape, swinging their hands in an almost unsettling way that seemed to jostle the whole fire escape. It was okay though, Tora could handle this because the familiar movement grounded them both, reminded them that whatever came next they still had each other. It was the sort of connection a survived night of terror renewed.
Their clattering footsteps rung hollow in the still air. It was like the calm before a storm, except droplets of rain were already falling from the sky, collecting and soaking into the material of their jackets. Save the pattering rain bouncing off drains and leaves, their surroundings were relatively silent, open and empty and yet just as eerie and suffocating as the darkness of their tiny closet. It didn't feel right.
Feet once again firmly on the ground, Tora tried to shake off the unease. If everyone had evacuated the area then it was okay, they were back on the ground, they had time, they could do this.
"Should we head to the police station first?" Hiroto shivered lightly beneath his hood as the wind picked up and scattered droplets everywhere. Everything looked too gloomy, dreary and stark and grey and it was starting to get to him. He wanted the sun back, not these heavy, swollen clouds that bent trees to the ground, arching trunks that gave too easily under the demand of wind and water. In this weather the surrounding nature didn't look as magical as when they first arrived. In this weather everything looked dark and mysterious. In this weather everything was a threat.
At Tora's consent they set off in the right direction, hand in hand.
---
The scent of wet earth was overwhelming, assaulting their nostrils from every angle of the building as they made their way to the front. The lobby was just as empty as the rest of the building seemed. Drowned worms lay soggy on level sidewalks in front of it while croaks and chirps broke the silence every so often. They found their car still in the garage, a little battered but thrumming to a start nonetheless.
Backing out onto the main road, they slowly eased their way downhill and towards the police station, creeping further down the street at a slower and slower speed. Beyond their raised apartment complex the grounds were flooded, the dips in the road full to the brim with water while the once grassy strips of land around them had virtually turned into marshes overnight. Rolling down the window, Tora peered over the side of his car as he pushed forward into one of the deeper puddles, hoping against hope they wouldn't drive over anything sharp and get stuck walking. They lived a good ways out in a secluded area surrounded by grass and trees and not much else for at least a mile. So when Tora heard Hiroto give a small gasp and the car hit something with a thump, he was already predicting the worst.
Beside him Hiroto was quickly rolling up his window, a stricken look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Their car hit another bump.
Wordlessly, the younger man pointed out the window.
The trees had been leveled here and only flooded grasses remained. Greens erased by browns, water and sediment clinging to leaves that dared peek above the surface. But that wasn't what made Tora's breath catch in his throat. Looking through Hiroto's window he could see jutting stones - many rounded, some pointed, a good deal jagged and toppled, all engraved in strokes of finality - monuments of the dead piled up against each other and making themselves known amidst the flood.
Swallowing the sick bile that rose from his stomach back down, Tora rolled up his own window and stepped on the gas.
The newest additions to the graveyard were now floating, bloated to the surface of the stagnant water. Their bluish skin was exposed and decaying, trailing the bodies in morbidly wispy clumps of matter as they shifted in the wind. The cemetery grounds had been stripped to mud and stone, actual coffins instead of the usual ash urns. Their bared corners now collected rain while some had shattered open. Bodies were freed to the wind while beneath the soil others rolled in their graves, moving with the tumult of the earth and tangling into the roots of nearby trees.
Almost a foot of water covered it all. Just enough for the heavy bodies to be seen slipping in and out of view, closer and closer. Hiroto felt like he could hear the crinkle-stretch of muscles laced with formaldehyde straining to move with life again. Shuddering, he sat straight in his seat and refused to look anywhere but forward. Wincing Tora tried to do the same but, when insistent bumping against their tires threatened to pull them to a stop, he had no choice but to roll down his wind and peer over the side again.
"Tora don't!" Hiroto hissed, but it was too late.
Looking down he caught sight of black threads tangled into his hub caps, hair.
Red like poisonous ink clouded the water beneath them.
---
Tora sucked in a burning breath of air, screams heavy on his tongue and water sloshing in his ears.
"Hiroto? Hiroto get up, this isn't right. We have to get out of here."
The other was immediately on his feet.
Kicking open the door, Tora waited until Hiroto exited first, backpack on his shoulders, before he followed after. It was dry now, no rain in the sky as they kicked up an earthen path in their rush to get as far away as possible. They were in the middle of nowhere, no direction but go.
"Faster, Pon or he'll catch up," Tora whispered earnestly, large palms pressing into the small of Hiroto's back when his steps faltered or his legs didn't move fast enough. They were warm hands, worn hands. The same hands Hiroto would be holding as they danced their way towards whatever hell awaited them after death.
"Faster."
Tora hid the panic well, Hiroto thought as he ran through the streets. He knew it was there, but it was comforting to hear it disguised in the other's voice. Rain sprinkled and flecked the windows of passing cars as they raced past, meeting no obstacles this late at night. It was raining, would storm soon, would be morning soon. But it was all too late.
Nothing could stop the fires now.
Nothing would revive the agonized screams that had so easily shattered the black night before cutting off short in a roar of flames.
His lungs burned as they rounded the next corner and slid into a back alley. "Up," Tora commanded urgently and he was hopping up the fire escape, climbing as quietly as he could back to Tora's apartment, chest heaving as he stumbled through the window sopping wet.
He was stupid. So stupid. And this was his fault.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he hiccupped as soon as Tora had cleared the steps and stood dripping in the dark living room.
Sighing, Tora hushed him before going to turn all the lights on in his home. He tugged the younger towards the bathroom with a soft, "It's okay, no one could have known there would be someone in there."
"We could have checked," came Hiroto's choked reply, burrowing as close to the older man as he could after their wet clothes was shed. The shower spray was hot on their backs before cooling down to a warmer temperature, and it only served to remind Hiroto of what they're just done.
"We killed him."
And, just like that, their lives had been turned completely upside down.
It was a lapse in judgment. There was no reason, no logic to justify their actions, and there was no one to blame but themselves.
The place they'd chosen was simple. A rundown house out in the middle of nowhere - that was if you could call it a house. It was barely wider than a big shed, but oddly enough housed two stories. Windows gone, doors rotted off, rooms seemingly empty and porch steps fallen through. It stood on a desolate strip of land that was more rock than grass and more sand than dirt. Hiroto was bored and tired of the rain. Tora had been at bit too enthused, but both had been completely enthralled by the idea, the image. It was a perfect, wet night and the small building was so perfectly abandoned.
With the jugs of gasoline they'd acquired, it went up in seconds.
And by the time the screams started, it was too late to control it.
They ran. Ran from the shame, the guilt, the responsibility, the blame and the echoes of a lone soul crying for help.
"Keep going, we have to get farther than this."
And now he followed them.
At first the signs hadn't been so clear. The irrational anger, the impossible accidents, sleepwalking and unsettling silences all punctuated by dreams. They were morbid illusions of could-be's and could-have-been's that haunted their nights, bled into memories of the past and events of the day until neither of them knew for sure what was really true, what had truly happened. All they knew was that an angry spirit wanted revenge and, if they could stay just one step ahead of it, there was another chance to live another day.
They finally came to a stop on a hillside a couple miles away, panting hard as they stood in the shadow of a tree. From this distance they could make out their latest hideout, another abandoned building, bursting into flames. Red and orange licked the night air just like it had that first time while remembered pleas for help singed the wood black and choked the sky grey.
Sweat dripped from their temples as they watched and held onto each other. They had a lifetime of running ahead of them, a lifetime to spend paddling through larger and larger puddles of sweat that grew and grew until one day they knew it wouldn't be enough. One day Hiroto wouldn't wake up in time, one day Tora's intuition would be off. And then they would be right back where they started - navigating flames towards their ultimate destination, a fate they probably deserved.
It was their punishment but, one hand wrapped in another, it didn't seem so bad to be punished together.
A/N:
Lalalala~ FAIL. I'm sure you had this story all figured out before I got around to posting and then it ended up like this TAT
Seriously, wtf is this?? GO BE A FAILURE SOMEWHERE ELSE SELF! D< It took 3 months to finish so I'm sorry you can tell where the three months chops it to pieces LOLOL *sweats* I'm trying to get back into the groove of things so excuse me while I suck D:
Archive
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 032 Never Again (KAT-TUN)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: AU
Comments: The sequel to Wanderlust which has taken me forever and a day to post and is probably lame, but heck I wrote it anyway. This is inspired by The Cardigan's Overload so take a listen. Poopie ._.
[ Wanderlust ]
Overload
Eighth floor.
Room eight.
Lucky number eight.
Kanji strokes speaking of better things to come.
Huddled in the corner, Tora had to wonder if they'd made a mistake and this was actually the ninth floor. Ku, agony, torture. There was no other way to explain the terrified sobs shaking Hiroto's frame or the wailing noises all around them. Every nerve in his body screamed run but there was nowhere to run. Above the deep rumbles of thunder and barest flashes of light seeping into the dark closet, Tora could hear footsteps. Sharp, clattering heels that alternated between their hard wood floors and the few throw rugs decorating its surface.
They couldn't go out there.
There was someone out there.
Where was help when they needed it? His call down to the lobby had been cut short with the power but Tora knew it should have been enough to garner attention. He was desperate, scared, it rattled his voice, strangled his lungs. They were alone.
Or at least he hoped they were alone.
They couldn't risk going out there. Things had broken, Hiroto jerking in his arms had been proof of that, but he couldn't feel the heavy gusts of stormy wind a shattered window or forced door brought. Adrenaline spiked through his body making it hard to breathe as he clamped a hand over the younger's mouth to muffle a whimper. His head swerved towards the sound of their bedroom door being kicked in. Tora was scared and Hiroto knew it. Shaking the sweaty palm off and biting his lips, Hiroto turned and gave him a strained smile, eerie in the faint mobile's light.
"Take my hand." It was breathed shakily into his ear, small body curling around him even as their one source of light flickered and went dead too. "We'll hide until it's over."
It was hard knowing there was nothing they could do, helpless amidst a sudden invasion. Everything was pitch black, blurry with tears, and foggy with panicked breaths.
And then their closet door was next.
Loud footsteps and angry noises seeped through the ceiling and Tora wished he had superpowers, wished there was a reset button, wished they could both sink through the floor or just briefly not exist. But all he could do was thread long fingers through Hiroto's hair and press a sweaty forehead to his own neck, shielding the younger man from the sight and sound, blows of whatever was ripping their closet door off its hinges.
Tora had time to see one faces - eyes, nose, and lips - before splitting pain pierced through his skull and the world went infinitely black.
---
They were dancing, giggling and laughing again. Round and round, blurry circles of round and round, spin and swirl, bare chests shining warm in the sunny noon light. Laughing, Tora tumbled down onto the living room sofa and stared up at the ceiling fan. It was going round and round too, twirling with its jangly now-fast, now-bright chains and making the big glassy bulb at its center quiver with every movement. Unscrew, jiggle, unscrew, fall. Incredulous fascination kept him glued to his seat when it finally fell. He could have jumped up and caught it, but it was hypnotic destruction in the making, beauty to watch.
As Tora stared, the large bowl of glass unscrewed itself and slowly crashed to the floor. Flipping in midair over and over, round and round, and shattering into a thousand pieces right on the very spot they'd just been dancing on. Shards flew this way and that, mirroring their slow swaying of just seconds ago.
Round, round, round. Now bared light bulbs flickered harshly at each swing of the fan.
Blinking, Tora's eyes refocused on the television set against the far wall - another witness to the chaos. The reflection of a body stood stock still on its black screen. Turning around, Tora looked over the back of the sofa to find Hiroto resting motionless in the doorway, fingers clutching a bag. His eyes were blank, scanning the scene with a wordless nothing.
A trickle of red slid down his chin.
"Hiroto?"
---
Tora was pissed.
Hiroto didn't know what was wrong, especially inside his head.
He found himself waking up in a new place every day and he couldn't quite remember why. They had fought again hadn't they? About what, Hiroto didn't know, but first it was the expensive watch, then the new TV they didn't need, then petty thing after petty thing. Tora, then Hiroto, then Tora, then Hiroto. Then an expensive ring Hiroto definitely didn't need thrown back in Tora's face. Then Tora hitting Hiroto. Tora had hit him. For the first Tora had lost his control and left the apartment in a rage, seething pride still too strong to apologize.
He couldn't remember much more before Tora left, but after crying himself to sleep he'd somehow woken up surrounded by crumpled magazines, the TV remote, shoved halfway under the coffee table with his feet beneath the couch. There weren't any marks, nothing that ached, so he couldn't just assumeTora had done this to him. Why would Tora do that?
It was only one slap, right? One that stung and left a red mark, nothing too harsh and nothing he probably didn't deserve. Tora was the patient one, meeting the younger's flitting moods and soothing things over even if he was tempted to let his irritation show. Hiroto hadn't been in the best of moods this time, still bitter over the grief he'd gotten for the watch when Tora had gone and bought a television of all things. But rings... rings meant something. Rings meant they could overcome this.
Sighing, Hiroto curled up on the couch, twisting the heavy metal around his finger, salvaged off the living room floor and now the only thing keeping him company as he waited. It was the weekend. They were supposed to be happy on the weekends, work free and together. Instead Tora was gone, still not back from wherever he'd run off to last night, and Hiroto was worried. He was angry and hurt, but still worried because he loved Tora and he didn't want anything to happen to him.
Looking at his watch, Hiroto stared at the long hand ticking round and round, waiting for noon to pass, waiting for Tora to come home. His prayers were answered by the slam of their front door, followed by a string of profanities.
"Fuck- Hiroto! Stop putting your fucking boots in middle of the hallway! And get over here and clean up all this mud!"
His brow furrowed, tentatively easing off the sofa to edge closer to source of ruckus. He didn't ever leave his shoes in the hallway and hadn't left their apartment since the day before last. Tora knew that. But as soon as he got closer, Hiroto wondered how Tora had even managed to find his way home. He reeked of alcohol, the stench floating in wafts across their apartment. He couldn't even pull himself off the floor from where he'd tripped over a pair of Hiroto's boots - in the middle of the doorway and muddy just like the older man had said.
Red shot eyes turned to glare at him.
"Tora?"
---
Tora's eyes snapped open to the sound of his name.
There was a dull ache beginning to build up in his right temple, a throbbing that softened the edges of everything in his line of vision and, Tora was surprised to note, he definitely could see. The world was no longer black now. Instead, shades of dawn painted their closet floor and colored Hiroto's face above him an unnatural pale.
"Tora? Are you okay?" A soothing palm came up to feel his forehead while the other brushed his hair aside.
Groaning, Tora heaved himself up and looked around, heedless of the small gasp that escaped Hiroto's lips when his fingers came away dark and slightly wet. He waved him off. "It's okay Pon, it doesn't hurt that much."
The door was definitely gone, fallen over onto the other side of their bed, the curtains were down too. But Tora was surprised to find that all their bedroom windows were still intact, obscured every so often by the soft shower of rain, but still all in one piece.
"How long was I out?" he asked. It had to be morning at the least, though it was hard to tell with how dreary the sky looked.
"I don't know," Hiroto replied, "Longer than I was."
Brow furrowing, Tora quickly turned back from where he'd been surveying the rain heavy trees outside. "Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" He didn't wait for a response, simply pulled Hiroto close to inspect his face, running his fingers through straggly hair just to make sure. He seemed okay, if anything Hiroto's eyes looked brighter, darker than normal, leftover fear still shining in them, but sparking with light humor as he batted Tora's prying hands away.
"I'm fine! I probably just fainted or something," he laughed uneasily, finally calming down enough to rub at his tear stained cheeks. "It was a scary storm!" he added when Tora merely eyed him dubiously. "Come on Tora, let's just get out of here before the walls fall apart or something." Hiroto wiggled out as he said it, hauling the older man up cautiously before running off to get shoes, their wallets, and whatever else he could think of after sending Tora to check his head out in the bathroom mirror.
There wasn't any red trickling down the side of his face, Hiroto would have freaked if there were, but when he ran a hand through his fringe Tora felt the crust of dried blood near his hairline. Sighing, it was dry and scabbing and there was really nothing he could do about it so it probably wasn't too serious, he made his way to where Hiroto was rustling through drawers and cabinets down the hall. The rest of their apartment seemed to be in relatively good shape. Only a few lightweight things had fallen, paper scattered, plates and frames broken, and the furniture appeared to have shifted a bit. All the windows out here were in one piece too.
"Did you close the front door?"
Looking up from where he had his lips pursed, knapsack in hand, Hiroto made a questioning hum in response.
"The door's closed," Tora pointed.
"Maybe the wind did it on its way out," he shrugged. It made sense - wind in, wind out; door open, door close. Reaching over, Hiroto snagged Tora's mostly dead phone from his hand and dropped it in a bag.
"Ready?"
"Let's check in the lobby first."
---
The door wouldn't open.
Staring out the peephole Tora gave the doorknob another frustrated yank. "Really?" he growled to no one in particular, kicking the wooden obstruction before swiveling back around. The wind had probably jammed it closed or blew something in front of it. "Where are all our screw drivers?" The day hadn't started off too well and it seemed determined to only get worse.
Dancing on his feet, Hiroto gave the doorknob his own tug to no avail before suggesting the kitchen. "The hallways are empty though," he murmured in a hushed voice. "If it were an emergency don't you think there would be people leaving or alarms at least?" He looked through the peephole again. Their floor was definitely empty.
"Maybe they left without us," Tora grunted, pulling out drawer after drawer to rake through the contents.
"Let's just go through the fire escape."
---
Tora didn't like heights. Hiroto liked to climb trees and drive to the very tops of mountains, look over cliffs into sea gorges, but Tora much much preferred to have his feet on stable ground. The segments of metal that made up the fire escape were practically gaping wide open with holes for his feet to fall through. He gulped and wished he hadn't looked down even as adrenaline pumped sweat to his palms. Looking up proved to be just as dizzying. The grey blue clouds were swirling in the manner of most storm clouds, rushing past overhead and making Tora feel as if he were moving, falling, spinning all at once. He had to blink a few times to clear his head.
"You okay there tiger? Need me to hold your hand?" Hiroto chortled. He knew very well what heights did to Tora. "It's not your head hurting is it?" he asked, tone suddenly worried as he reached out and grabbed Tora's hand anyway.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," the other reassured. "Just... the weather is weird. The clouds are being all freaky... I don't like heights," he muttered.
Hiroto let out a relieved laugh, "Well then we should hurry up and get down, shouldn't we?" Clasping Tora's hand firmly, he proceeded down the fire escape, swinging their hands in an almost unsettling way that seemed to jostle the whole fire escape. It was okay though, Tora could handle this because the familiar movement grounded them both, reminded them that whatever came next they still had each other. It was the sort of connection a survived night of terror renewed.
Their clattering footsteps rung hollow in the still air. It was like the calm before a storm, except droplets of rain were already falling from the sky, collecting and soaking into the material of their jackets. Save the pattering rain bouncing off drains and leaves, their surroundings were relatively silent, open and empty and yet just as eerie and suffocating as the darkness of their tiny closet. It didn't feel right.
Feet once again firmly on the ground, Tora tried to shake off the unease. If everyone had evacuated the area then it was okay, they were back on the ground, they had time, they could do this.
"Should we head to the police station first?" Hiroto shivered lightly beneath his hood as the wind picked up and scattered droplets everywhere. Everything looked too gloomy, dreary and stark and grey and it was starting to get to him. He wanted the sun back, not these heavy, swollen clouds that bent trees to the ground, arching trunks that gave too easily under the demand of wind and water. In this weather the surrounding nature didn't look as magical as when they first arrived. In this weather everything looked dark and mysterious. In this weather everything was a threat.
At Tora's consent they set off in the right direction, hand in hand.
---
The scent of wet earth was overwhelming, assaulting their nostrils from every angle of the building as they made their way to the front. The lobby was just as empty as the rest of the building seemed. Drowned worms lay soggy on level sidewalks in front of it while croaks and chirps broke the silence every so often. They found their car still in the garage, a little battered but thrumming to a start nonetheless.
Backing out onto the main road, they slowly eased their way downhill and towards the police station, creeping further down the street at a slower and slower speed. Beyond their raised apartment complex the grounds were flooded, the dips in the road full to the brim with water while the once grassy strips of land around them had virtually turned into marshes overnight. Rolling down the window, Tora peered over the side of his car as he pushed forward into one of the deeper puddles, hoping against hope they wouldn't drive over anything sharp and get stuck walking. They lived a good ways out in a secluded area surrounded by grass and trees and not much else for at least a mile. So when Tora heard Hiroto give a small gasp and the car hit something with a thump, he was already predicting the worst.
Beside him Hiroto was quickly rolling up his window, a stricken look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Their car hit another bump.
Wordlessly, the younger man pointed out the window.
The trees had been leveled here and only flooded grasses remained. Greens erased by browns, water and sediment clinging to leaves that dared peek above the surface. But that wasn't what made Tora's breath catch in his throat. Looking through Hiroto's window he could see jutting stones - many rounded, some pointed, a good deal jagged and toppled, all engraved in strokes of finality - monuments of the dead piled up against each other and making themselves known amidst the flood.
Swallowing the sick bile that rose from his stomach back down, Tora rolled up his own window and stepped on the gas.
The newest additions to the graveyard were now floating, bloated to the surface of the stagnant water. Their bluish skin was exposed and decaying, trailing the bodies in morbidly wispy clumps of matter as they shifted in the wind. The cemetery grounds had been stripped to mud and stone, actual coffins instead of the usual ash urns. Their bared corners now collected rain while some had shattered open. Bodies were freed to the wind while beneath the soil others rolled in their graves, moving with the tumult of the earth and tangling into the roots of nearby trees.
Almost a foot of water covered it all. Just enough for the heavy bodies to be seen slipping in and out of view, closer and closer. Hiroto felt like he could hear the crinkle-stretch of muscles laced with formaldehyde straining to move with life again. Shuddering, he sat straight in his seat and refused to look anywhere but forward. Wincing Tora tried to do the same but, when insistent bumping against their tires threatened to pull them to a stop, he had no choice but to roll down his wind and peer over the side again.
"Tora don't!" Hiroto hissed, but it was too late.
Looking down he caught sight of black threads tangled into his hub caps, hair.
Red like poisonous ink clouded the water beneath them.
---
Tora sucked in a burning breath of air, screams heavy on his tongue and water sloshing in his ears.
"Hiroto? Hiroto get up, this isn't right. We have to get out of here."
The other was immediately on his feet.
Kicking open the door, Tora waited until Hiroto exited first, backpack on his shoulders, before he followed after. It was dry now, no rain in the sky as they kicked up an earthen path in their rush to get as far away as possible. They were in the middle of nowhere, no direction but go.
"Faster, Pon or he'll catch up," Tora whispered earnestly, large palms pressing into the small of Hiroto's back when his steps faltered or his legs didn't move fast enough. They were warm hands, worn hands. The same hands Hiroto would be holding as they danced their way towards whatever hell awaited them after death.
"Faster."
Tora hid the panic well, Hiroto thought as he ran through the streets. He knew it was there, but it was comforting to hear it disguised in the other's voice. Rain sprinkled and flecked the windows of passing cars as they raced past, meeting no obstacles this late at night. It was raining, would storm soon, would be morning soon. But it was all too late.
Nothing could stop the fires now.
Nothing would revive the agonized screams that had so easily shattered the black night before cutting off short in a roar of flames.
His lungs burned as they rounded the next corner and slid into a back alley. "Up," Tora commanded urgently and he was hopping up the fire escape, climbing as quietly as he could back to Tora's apartment, chest heaving as he stumbled through the window sopping wet.
He was stupid. So stupid. And this was his fault.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he hiccupped as soon as Tora had cleared the steps and stood dripping in the dark living room.
Sighing, Tora hushed him before going to turn all the lights on in his home. He tugged the younger towards the bathroom with a soft, "It's okay, no one could have known there would be someone in there."
"We could have checked," came Hiroto's choked reply, burrowing as close to the older man as he could after their wet clothes was shed. The shower spray was hot on their backs before cooling down to a warmer temperature, and it only served to remind Hiroto of what they're just done.
"We killed him."
And, just like that, their lives had been turned completely upside down.
It was a lapse in judgment. There was no reason, no logic to justify their actions, and there was no one to blame but themselves.
The place they'd chosen was simple. A rundown house out in the middle of nowhere - that was if you could call it a house. It was barely wider than a big shed, but oddly enough housed two stories. Windows gone, doors rotted off, rooms seemingly empty and porch steps fallen through. It stood on a desolate strip of land that was more rock than grass and more sand than dirt. Hiroto was bored and tired of the rain. Tora had been at bit too enthused, but both had been completely enthralled by the idea, the image. It was a perfect, wet night and the small building was so perfectly abandoned.
With the jugs of gasoline they'd acquired, it went up in seconds.
And by the time the screams started, it was too late to control it.
They ran. Ran from the shame, the guilt, the responsibility, the blame and the echoes of a lone soul crying for help.
"Keep going, we have to get farther than this."
And now he followed them.
At first the signs hadn't been so clear. The irrational anger, the impossible accidents, sleepwalking and unsettling silences all punctuated by dreams. They were morbid illusions of could-be's and could-have-been's that haunted their nights, bled into memories of the past and events of the day until neither of them knew for sure what was really true, what had truly happened. All they knew was that an angry spirit wanted revenge and, if they could stay just one step ahead of it, there was another chance to live another day.
They finally came to a stop on a hillside a couple miles away, panting hard as they stood in the shadow of a tree. From this distance they could make out their latest hideout, another abandoned building, bursting into flames. Red and orange licked the night air just like it had that first time while remembered pleas for help singed the wood black and choked the sky grey.
Sweat dripped from their temples as they watched and held onto each other. They had a lifetime of running ahead of them, a lifetime to spend paddling through larger and larger puddles of sweat that grew and grew until one day they knew it wouldn't be enough. One day Hiroto wouldn't wake up in time, one day Tora's intuition would be off. And then they would be right back where they started - navigating flames towards their ultimate destination, a fate they probably deserved.
It was their punishment but, one hand wrapped in another, it didn't seem so bad to be punished together.
A/N:
Lalalala~ FAIL. I'm sure you had this story all figured out before I got around to posting and then it ended up like this TAT
Seriously, wtf is this?? GO BE A FAILURE SOMEWHERE ELSE SELF! D< It took 3 months to finish so I'm sorry you can tell where the three months chops it to pieces LOLOL *sweats* I'm trying to get back into the groove of things so excuse me while I suck D:
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