For him, things never seemed to change.
Aya lay motionless in her hospital bed. It was always white linens with a white pillow under her head. The same machines were always beside her keeping a close watch on the sleeping girl. The readings never wavered. She never woke up.
Perhaps, someday soon.
The walk back home was always the same. He could walk it in his sleep if need be. It was routine and never disrupted. If there was one thing Ran survived on it was constants: things as unchangable as night and day.
To Ran, the nights blended together. The faces were different, their expressions as he killed were easily dismissed. The overal goal was always static. As Weiss, he would fight the demons and the darkness that he knew they would bring.
The blood that marred his body in endless streams would never cease or ever stop. He knew nothing else, didn't bother to imagine anything grander or better, but merely accepted his role in it all. This was life. And he lived it, night after night. To Ran, for all he cared or thought about it, it might have been the same night over and over again.
The days were always different. He didn't care for the change. Sunlight brough with it moments without meaning. Time seemed to stop and hang on all the inconsequentials. There was no point to it all. The uselessness of it all grated on his nerves.
He could find no purpose at all.
The bell always tinkled above the door as he came in. He always appeared promptly for shift. Visiting his sister was his only regular outing. Then he would return, back to a busy shop.
The screaming fan girls did nothing but grate on his nerves. It was irritating to say the least. They lived a sheltered existence, a perception that couldn't possibly survive. Over their chatter, Ran heard the bell tinkle and looked up to see the door pushed open, Ken finally arrived.
From across the shop, he caught the other man's gaze. Curious brown eyes studied him, wondering if there was a question to be posed. What a sight he was. Hair tossled, clothes dirtied, barely professional at all.
"You're late," Ran greeted tonelessly.
In his opinion, being on time wasn't that to do. Ran, in his state of perpetual repetition, could manage it. Surely Ken could as well.
Ran turned, acting as if he didn't hear the apology. The fangirls were still gushing and now Ken was pouting as well. Perhaps time did exist and he'd be trapped in this hell for eons to come.
He took up his favored position behind the cash register. Scowling and punching buttons everyone gave him leeway. It was nothing but business. They way he liked it. Even still, their giggles blended together, he wished they would go away. Often times he felt claustrophobic, as if the shop walls would swallow him whole.
The seconds trickled by but Ran hardly noticed them. The end of the day would bring no escape, he'd merely have to wake up and repeat the day tomorrow. It was always the same. The same flowers and girls. The same irritating laughter that filled the air. None of it mattered to him.
It wouldn't be Aya's smiling face in front of him. It wouldn't be her laughter on the air.
It was constantly pushing him forward.
Kaze lay motionless in his grave. Ken had ushered him personally into the next life, an unending sleep from which the man would never escape. The more time passed the further away it brought him from that night. He still wasn't over it.
Perhaps, someday soon.
Things were always changing. People and places reveled in spontaniety. Yukio had been spontaneous. She wanted to go to Australia. Ken wanted to go as well. But he couldn't; they were as different as night and day.
To Ken, the nights were unique. The faces were each different, their expressions as he killed them were burned in his mind. Each assignment was as different as the victims. As Weiss, he would stand sentry for whatever came next.
The blood that stained his hands in streams would always flow rich with life and guilt. He wanted anything else. Always dreaming of something better, desired something simply normal and innocent. This was hell. Night after night. To Ken, it was a torture of damnation that he fulfilled and agonized about endlessly.
The days were always better. He basked in the brighter time. It brought small moments of escape. Time seemed to rush it past him, leaving him wishing for it to stop. It was never long enough. The sanctity of it all saved his very soul.
Each fleeting moment was precious.
He was running late. His clothes were dishelved from playing soccer with the neighborhood children. He did it as often as his time allowed. Now he was sprinting, in a hurry to get back to a busy shop.
The customers inside were always so enthusiastic. He was envious of their easy manner. They lived a sheltered existence, something he wished he had again. He could hear their chatter from outside. The bell tinkled as he entered, and he started moving through the crowd.
From across the shop, he caught the other man's gaze. Dispassionate purple eyes studied him, as if examining worth and deeming him to have none. What nerve. A perpetual scowl and harsh demeanor, barely social at all.
"You're late," were Ran's first words.
Ken frowned slightly. It was only a few minutes. He wanted to tell Ran that sometimes, people actually went out and did things. "Sorry," he offered.
Ran simply turned away, and Ken scowled at his back. He put his apron on and looked wistfully outside. For all the trouble he was getting now, he might as well have stayed out longer.
He picked up a watering can moving towards the flowers. His movements were relaxed as he puttered about. The school girls followed along after him, telling him tales and gossip from school. Their laughter lifted his spirit, and he greeted them by name. He liked the small space of the shop, it gave a sense of intimacy amongst the crowd.
The minutes flew by with Ken hardly noticing them. There was almost so much to do. New shipments to tend to, and new arrangement to make. There were new questions and new students as the popularity of their little shop grew. The days were filled with the spontaneity of life.
It made him feel as if everything was normal, and that was enough to get him through his days.
Ran didn't believe in time.
Ken reveled in time.