Fear: Part One

I am not afraid to die. I gave up on life long ago. I gave up on him long ago too. The mission is over now. My bloodstained hands shake slightly and I shiver as a cold gust of wind whips through the alleyway.

He does not shiver. He does not even seem to notice as he turns to go. Perhaps he is already too cold to feel the chill. Sometimes I wonder if he feels anything at all. Sometimes I know he does not.

I follow silently and try to concentrate on something else, but my thoughts keep drifting back to him. I once expected so much from him. It is hard to convince myself that it will never be. It is hard for me to accept what he has become. I shiver again. His fiery hair seems to glow in the moonlight, such a stark contrast to the ice he shows the world.

I frown and lower my gaze. I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. I had not realized how tired I was. My vision blurs for a moment and I try to shake off the weariness. I close my eyes as I realize that it is only a tear. I can’t wipe it away so I let it fall slowly down my face tracing a thin line from my eye to the edge of my jaw. I hope he doesn’t notice. He never cries. I am sure he sees no point in it. He has other ways of expressing what he feels or what he doesn’t feel.

I breathe a sigh of relief as we reach the door to the flower shop. For one brief moment I think that I might escape. Maybe he is too tired. It was a difficult mission, but no. That makes no difference. That has never made a difference. It’s dark, but neither of us moves to turn on the light. We’ve done this so many times before. I know what is expected of me. I hunt the beasts of darkness, but I do not deserve the light. I don’t deserve love or hope or passion. I am not even sure I could feel it anymore. I am so cold. Somehow we find each other every time. Well, he finds me at least and I let him.

He takes my hand and ignores the blood that still clings to it even after I have removed the claws. We go upstairs and close the door to his room quietly. He does not smile. I do not smile. He grabs my wrists and pushes me up against the wall. I do not struggle as he presses his lips firmly against mine. I close my eyes and pretend that he cares. Just for a moment I entertain the idea that I mean something to him, but that hope fades as I gaze into his empty eyes. They are cold and emotionless. This means nothing to him. He brushes the bangs from my eyes and gestures to the bed. I know the routine. We have done this so many times before.

I pull off my clothes and stand before him calmly. He removes his as well and pushes me onto the bed. I lie on my back and turn my head as he runs his hands over my chest. I can see the stars through the small window to my left. They seem so much dimmer than I remember. It is as if they are hiding their light from me. I do not deserve the stars anymore.

He turns my head to face him. He gets angry when I don’t pay attention, but I don’t care anymore. When this is all over, I will slip back into my room and try not to cry. I rarely succeed.

He is almost finished now. I try to ignore the pain, but it is so much more than physical. I can push that away without much effort. I tell myself that I am numb and that he cannot hurt me anymore. I’m not sure that I believe it.

His hands press against my shoulders and his nails sting my skin as they draw blood.

When it ends, he lies beside me and wraps his arms around me possessively. I do not protest. I do not move. I tell myself that he needs this somehow. I say that I am only trying to help.

At some point he falls asleep and his embrace becomes relaxed. I escape. I carefully pick up my clothes and wander back to my room.

It is dark there too. It is cold there too. I do not want to sleep. I have to think. I have to understand. I need to understand, but I cannot.

My eyelids grow heavy as the last tears stream down my cheeks and the last sob escapes my lips, but I cannot sleep. I must wash my hands. There is blood on my hands. There will always be blood on my hands. As I stand up and leave the room, I see a shadow lurking in the hallway. My muscles tense and my heart beats faster as I wonder if it’s him. I don’t know what to do. I want to scream or run, but I do not. I wait. I let out a deep breath and feel myself relax as Yohji steps into the moonlight. The look on his face is not something that I am used to. If I didn’t know better, I might call it compassion or even caring, but I know it is not. It cannot be. How can any one of us know what that is anymore? He holds out his hand and I stare at it not knowing what to do. I see a sadness in his eyes as he moves closer to me and puts an arm around my waist. I feel responsible for the sadness there. It doesn’t belong in those eyes. I feel guilty for the dimness there. They have lost some of their sparkle. I know it was there once. I lean on him as he leads me to the bathroom.

I am so tired. I do not like the questions in his eyes. They ask me why and I cannot respond. I do not like the answers there either. His gaze burns into my soul and I am sure that he knows everything. He does not ask. I do not say.

I cannot look at him as he wraps a towel around me and helps me out of the shower. I am afraid of what I will see in his eyes. I do not want pity. I look up suddenly as he runs his fingers over a fresh bruise on my cheek. I tell him it is from the mission. He lowers his gaze and I wonder when he stopped believing me. He used to believe me.

I don’t know what to do when he wraps his arms around me and gives me a gentle hug. I know he feels sorry for me. He can’t help me. I close my eyes and fight back tears. This hug is so different from Aya’s. I could almost convince myself that it means something. I feel Yohji’s hands trembling as he lets go and I wonder what he is thinking about. He leans closer to me and I can feel his warm breath on my face before he kisses me. I don’t know what to do. I do not move. I cannot move. His kiss is like nothing I have ever felt before. It is over too soon and I wonder why I want him to kiss me again. I wonder how such a simple act can mean so much. I shake my head as my thoughts overwhelm me and I lay my head on his shoulder and let the tears fall as he runs his fingers through my hair. He is whispering something to me, but I can’t make it out over the sound of my own sobs. It is soothing and comforting. I hold on to him tighter and do not want to let go.

After several minutes the tears subside and I lift my head slowly. I am ashamed of what I have done. I have burdened him with my problems. He will never look at me the same way again. I look up cautiously. Our eyes meet and I am faced with something that I did not expect. I see no hate in his eyes. His lips curve slightly and I think that he smiled at me. I find that hard to believe, but something flashed across his lips that I cannot identify as anything else. I want it to be a smile more than anything else. I want this to mean something. I want to know what he is thinking. I want this to last.

Yohji helps me stand and leads me back to my room. He kisses me lightly on the cheek before he leaves and I stare after him for a long time. He said something to me before he left and I still can’t believe what I heard. It must be a mistake. He could not possibly have meant it the way that it seems. He said, “Aishiteru.” He said that he loves me. I cautiously touch the place on my cheek that he had kissed just moments ago. It seems to burn with possibilities. I lie down and close my eyes. I try not to think about it, but I keep hearing those words whispered over and over in my mind. Aishiteru. Aishiteru. How could he possibly love me? How could anyone love me?

I open my eyes and glance at the window. I blink as I look at the stars. They seem brighter somehow. I cannot help but wonder what that means. I am not sure if I can love him. I gave up on love so long ago. I am afraid of what will happen. I am afraid that I will not be able to give him what he wants. I am afraid that he does not want anything. I am afraid that he loves me unconditionally. My heart beats faster. I am scared.

I do not want to wait. I need to know now. I wonder if he is still awake. I am not sure that I care. I just want to be near him. I want to make sure that he is real. I need to know that this is real. I am afraid now. I am afraid of what Aya will say. I am afraid of what Aya will do. I am afraid that I will do something wrong. I am not ready for this. I am afraid that I love Yohji too.

~to be continued~

[Part Two]

[The Archives]