[fic] [yst] At the Stars 10/?

[morphaileffect]

i promised summerbreeze21 no more seiji torture, so :D

ps: watch sherlock, people.

pps: if you haven't yet, please read revaival by ivy, translated by Bliss. if you're still on the fence about sengoku basara like i was, i guarantee it will push you over the edge. in a... good way, of course.

ppps: also watch man in the chair starring christopher plummer. if only for christopher plummer. A+++ performance.



At the Stars
Part 10

Ryo had taken a quick look around the apartment building's parking lot to see if Touma's car was there. No luck. Anyway, it was still early. It was a good hour or two before it got dark and he would have to start worrying again.

His newest purchase tucked under one arm, he made his way up to Touma and Seiji's room. As it was the afternoon, there were more people to come across. He did his best to be polite to them and not to hint that he wanted to stay and chat.

It was disheartening to remember that there was no one to talk to in this city, where people didn't ask even if they wanted to know. Even if you did try to open up, they wouldn't be able to understand. It would always be something else they were more familiar with: cancer or AIDS or another rare disease they saw on TV.

It reminded Ryo in a way of his time as a Trooper. People knew about the armors: they didn't know about the boys who wielded them. And they didn't care. Touma and Nasuti had warned the other boys that they dared not risk their identities getting revealed, but there was very little investigation into their identities anyway. People preferred to invent stories if they weren't spoonfed the facts.

It wasn't worth being sad then, and it wasn't worth being sad now.

As the elevator doors opened, he saw a familiar face.

Great.

Gritting his teeth and ducking his head, he boarded the elevator along with the building gossip who lived down the hall from them, whose name was Mrs. Nakajima.

When he looked over at her, he saw that she was looking up at him. She nodded in greeting. He acknowledged her nod. He hoped that was the extent of their interaction, but he wasn't so lucky.

"I hear you brought back that roommate of yours from the hospital today," she said with the usual acidity she'd taken on when she spoke to Ryo.

Without looking at her, he replied "Yes."

"I hear he's in a bad way?"

Ryo didn't have to answer that one.

She was silent for the rest of the skywards trip. Then when the elevator doors opened on their floor, as she stepped out she announced: "You will walk with me back to my room."

Ryo tensed up. "Mrs. Nakajima, I don't think -"

"You will walk with me," she said imperiously, "because I have something to give you. And you won't make an old lady go all the way over to the other end of the hall just for a delivery, will you?"

Well. Since she put it that way. She did walk slowly, with a very slight limp that hinted at a bad hip, and as much as Ryo disliked her, neither did he like the thought of making her go out of her way, and then owing her for the effort.

All the same, Ryo wondered what she would want to give him. Wasn't she busy spreading nasty rumors about him, Touma and Seiji all this time?

He walked with her down the long corridor, down to her room. To Ryo's surprise, she even invited him in (although she did not invite him to sit). Her room was much smaller than Touma and Seiji's, but definitely well-furnished - speaking of being well-loved by someone, or a bunch of someones. She had mentioned having adult children who made a comfortable living...

"Here," she said presently. She had produced a large basket of what seemed like baked goods from her kitchen and was limping back to the living room to hand it to him.

"The Building Association Ladies made that," she almost spat at him. "Most are fresh from the oven, so don't refrigerate them yet. I daresay it was a good thing we bumped into each other as I was coming back from my afternoon stroll. The Ladies assigned the delivery to me, because of all the members, I live the closest to you."

"This... wasn't necessary," Ryo stammered, a bit taken aback. It was a really large basket.

"Now off with you," the old woman said, physically shepherding Ryo out the door. "Your friend needs all the energy he can get, and it's best to eat pastries when they're fresh."

It was perhaps not a good time to mention that Seiji couldn't digest solids properly - and at any rate, Touma went through sweets like water, so this was not going to waste.

Besides, Ryo thought he sensed a note of genuine concern there, somewhere in the last thing she said.

He turned to her with a large box under one arm and the other hand carrying a big basket of baked goods, and bowed to the waist. "Thank you," he said.

When he looked up at her, he thought he saw a sad expression cross her face, for a fraction of a second.

"It's not right, a young person suffering like that," she muttered. "My late husband," she began, but never quite finished, because she clamped her lips together tight, stepped back inside and shut and locked the door.

Ryo stood in front of her door a second longer than he'd thought - surprised for many reasons, not the least of which was finding out that there was actually something the building gossip didn't want to talk about.

At least, not with him.

Date Yayoi was on the sofa in the living room, when he came back. She was in the company of Touma's suitcase again, though she had returned most of the papers to their original nests.

"Seiji is awake, but resting," she reported in a low voice.

She cast an inquiring glance at the large box-and-basket combo that Ryo was hauling in. Especially the basket, knowing as she did that Seiji was as yet unable to eat solids well.

"Oh," Ryo said awkwardly. "Gifts." Then she nodded and politely refused an offer of pastries and more tea.

Ryo disposed of his burden first, then went over to sit on the sofa beside Yayoi. "He does not want to return to the hospital," she said to him. Then let out a small sigh. "Just as well. He is stable. Right now, what he needs the most is rest. He believes he will gain the use of his legs back with exercise and time."

"Is he right?" Ryo asked. In response, Yayoi cast her gaze downward.

"Sanada-san," she said instead. "Thank you for letting me read these. These papers... give us an insight on how brilliant Hashiba-san really is."

Ryo followed her gaze down to the papers in her hands. As expected, their contents made no sense to him. Touma's handwriting, so light and neat, so freakishly organized, sketched out chemical equations, spewed medical jargon without mercy.

"I must tell you this in terms you can understand." Her eyes, when she trained them back on Ryo, were devoid of mocking. She was simply explaining, the way a doctor would to someone who takes care of her patient. "Hashiba-san's research is about the weakness of genes. But he has been focusing on a specific weakness for a specific gene - and the disease he has built his entire research around is... unlikely to occur. And even if it does, it would be on one person in a trillion. This makes his research unusable to most profit-oriented groups."

Ryo already understood that much. He'd known since the time the four of them met to discuss their options; Touma had said that no other pharmaceutical company would hire him again as a researcher, because he wouldn't make drugs that sell.

He'd also sensed how much Touma hated that word: sell.

"However... if this data is to be believed, half of his research has yielded data on genetic weakness that is decades ahead of its time. He gives us ideas on how genetic weakness can be manipulated, even altered or offset. And some of those ideas are very, very plausible."

"You mean," Ryo ventured, "this is good research? The kind big companies want?"

Yayoi nodded readily. "It is valuable research. Very valuable. I cannot give you the figures, but... suffice it to say, if his employers knew about this, they would offer a good portion of the company's shares of stock to him for the right to even look at it."

Oh yes - Yayoi didn't know that Touma was out of a job. Had been for some time. He supposed Seiji hadn't told her. If so, Ryo was probably not in the best place to tell her, either.

"Suffice it to say, Sanada-san," Yayoi continued, voice turning grim, "that if Hashiba-san could alter the direction of his research by a tiny fraction... he could develop a number of medicines that would solve a number of ailments that modern medicine could not cure yet. These include common genetic diseases that affect untold millions."

There was a gleam in her pale violet eyes. It was full of hope and awe and distress, and Ryo found himself staring into it. These were Seiji's eyes, he said to himself at the back of his mind. Seiji was telling him to understand how important this was.

"Sanada-san." Her fingers clenched on the edges of the papers in her hand, not caring for now if she showed that she was not calm. "Hashiba-san may be able to save my brother. Or he may not. But one thing is certain - he could save the world if he wanted to."

Yayoi drove back home. Then night came. The evening news came and went. Ryo dispensed medication, prepared dinner for three, and put one back into the fridge, then cleaned up.

Still no Touma.

The things Date Yayoi had said to him earlier still buzzed in his head. He was burning to talk to Touma about them. Was it true, was Touma's research in fact something that no pharmaceutical company could refuse? Was it something that could, in Seiji's older sister's words, "save the world"?

If so, why was he hiding it?

What would get in the way of him using his research to get another job working at a lab? Or even getting his own lab? How could Ryo help?

...Or did he have a new job already? Or a lab of his own? Without telling Ryo and the rest?

While Ryo thought about such heavy things, he had to move about. Had to keep his hands busy, at least. Else the heavy things would weigh him down. So he decided to bring out the box he'd bought from downtown, out to the balcony. It was time to tinker around with it.

Thankfully it was a clear night. No clouds. No threat of rain. He opened the box and started taking out disassembled parts.

Ryo liked cameras. He understood cameras at least; what made them work, what gave them power, what made certain models better than others. He knew lenses and glares and exposures and shutters and tubes. That was why even if he didn't like putting together newfangled gadgets in general, and if this wasn't a camera exactly, he enjoyed this particular task: it was familiar.

He was finished a good hour later. No Touma yet, but the satisfaction of having completed such a complicated device refreshed him; he didn't mind waiting a little longer.

He looked through the eyepiece. Turned the knobs and dials to adjust the angle, the magnification and the tripod height. It was definitely working.

It was also time to check up on Seiji. So he left the balcony and went to Seiji's room.

And the instant he saw that Seiji was awake, lying under the blankets and looking out the window, what left Ryo's lips was "I want to show you something."

Seiji turned his gaze to Ryo. When he saw that his friend wasn't carrying anything, he reached for his cane.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up to a sitting position. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed with some difficulty, then gripping the head of his cane with both hands, struggled to get on his feet.

Ryo waited patiently, knowing that his help wasn't welcome just yet. Finally, falling back onto a sitting position and breathing deeply, Seiji sighed, "Sorry... you'll have to bring it here."

"Yes," Ryo replied. "Or!" He stepped into the room and headed straight for the closet, taking out a blanket and a cloth cap.

He wrapped the blanket around Seiji's shoulders and fixed the cap on his head. Then slid one arm under Seiji's arms and the other under Seiji's knees. Seiji didn't protest, though he grimaced as if he was uncomfortable for the first few seconds. Understanding, he kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders with one hand while Ryo carried him in his arms out of the room, to the balcony.

It might just have been that Ryo's arms had gotten stronger, or Seiji had become so light. He seemed to weigh even less than he did when he was being rushed to Touma's car, just a few days ago. Now that Seiji was unable to move his legs, they would have to do this a lot from now on, Ryo silently said to himself, and he didn't care. He was there for things like this, and his friend weighed almost nothing.

When they reached the balcony, Ryo carefully put Seiji down to sit under the device he had just assembled. Ryo realized belatedly that he hadn't gone to get pillows and after a quick apology, he rushed back indoors. Seiji didn't seem to mind the lack of pillows, however. When Ryo stepped out a moment later, Seiji was already sitting serenely in a lotus position under the telescope, looking through the eyepiece.

Ryo sat beside him, setting the pillows aside for the moment. He inched up close and planted one hand on the floor behind Seiji so their sides would touch and Seiji could be kept warm, just in case the blanket wasn't doing its job.

The last thing he wanted to do was send Seiji back to the hospital because of hypothermia. Just because he was selfish enough to bring a sick friend out for such a small thing.

Seiji looked through the eyepiece a moment longer. Then he slowly drew back and muttered "Touma would like this." Ryo was only barely close enough to him to hear it.

While Ryo thought of how to reply to that, Seiji leaned back against his arm. On impulse, Ryo drew closer to him. Seiji leaned his head back against Ryo's shoulder.

It was peaceful here. Ryo couldn't remember the last time he felt this quiet. The sounds of the city were whispers coming from far below, and only the occasional sound of the wind through the tall neighboring buildings interrupted them.

It occurred to Ryo that Touma might return home at any minute and find them out of doors, sitting close together on the bare balcony floor like this. Randomly he wondered: would the feeling dissipate if Touma came to join them? Maybe even foaming at the mouth because Ryo was risking Seiji catching his death of cold?

Then he realized: No. It wouldn't do a damn thing. In fact, it would be better if Touma was here. It would, somehow, even feel complete.

"Touma is," Seiji started to say. But he trailed off. After a minute he said instead, "Aren't you scared?"

"Of...?"

"Of what's happening to him."

Ryo looked at his friend. "Shouldn't I be more scared of what's happening to you?"

"Why?" Seiji said with a hint of dryness. "We all know where I'm headed."

Ryo scowled. About as much as he could scowl at Seiji, who was trusting his whole weight on him.

"Don't talk like that." He tried to sound stern. But his voice came out pleading.

"It's the truth." On his part, Seiji's voice was only level. "But Touma... he's going to a place we can't follow. He shouldn't... be out on his own."

Ryo was about to go off on how Seiji should stop worrying so much about Touma. Worrying (or what seemed a lot like it) made him pass out from overexertion just a few hours ago; he was still recovering from it. Worrying was not doing anyone any good. He should care about himself more.

But that wasn't what came out, because he caught himself, and took a deep breath to clear his head before talking again.

"He's just doing what he needs to. He cares a lot about you."

"Yes, that." Seiji's hesitation at this point felt significant. "Was probably my fault."

Eh? "What was?"

"It," Seiji answered. "I kissed him first."

Ryo suddenly realized he was staring, and quickly looked away.

A part of him truly did not know. A part of him knew, but did not want to think about it. And here it was, out in the open. So what does one say in response to such a revelation? How does one actually feel?

"At the time I thought," Seiji continued, "I only did it because I wanted him to think all the trouble he was going through for me was worth it. What do you do... when someone has made you the center of his universe?" He paused, pondering his next words. "But as time went by, I realized... it wasn't that simple. For one thing, I acted on an emotion... rather, a number of emotions... that have been there from the beginning."

A hundred questions were running through Ryo's head. When did it start? How did it start? "I kissed him first" was hardly an answer. How did the two most important people in the world to him at this moment realize they wanted to be with each other?

Was it while Ryo wasn't paying attention? Was it out of loneliness or grief? Could he have done something to change it - and if he had been there, would anything have been different? Easier, at least?

"Spending so much time with one person," Seiji said carefully, as if listening to Ryo's thoughts and picking through a myriad of words for the most correct response, "makes you more aware of the feelings you've always had toward that person. You realize just how much you care about him, how much you're willing to give up for his sake."

Ryo's questions simmered down to nothing. As they did, he realized that it was pointless to share his thoughts about it. Seiji was trying to talk to him from a place he couldn't reach, not just yet.

And he realized Touma must have been talking to him from that place, as well - all this time.

Seiji reached for Ryo's hand. He grasped it as tightly as he could, the lack of strength in his fingers all too telling.

"Ryo," he said, "take care of him."

Ryo squeezed his friend's frail, cool hand. He thought about letting go at that point, but Seiji's fingers remained wrapped around the palm of his hand. Until he had given an answer.

"I can't - "

"Nobody else can." Seiji was looking into Ryo's eyes. This time Ryo was having a hard time meeting his gaze. It held too much knowledge of things to come, he couldn't bear it.

"But we always fight. I can't even make him listen to me. What does he need me around for?" What does he need anyone around for, Ryo wanted to add. But he knew it wasn't wise. Clearly, for five years at least, he had needed Seiji around.

Seiji's smile was sad and faint.

"He's always needed you," he said. "Neither of you... knows just how much."

After saying this, he let out a sigh that sounded a great deal like relief. And his smile vanished.

He looked up at the night sky.

"Touma... was the one who spent the most time alone out there," he said to himself. "How could he have forgotten what it was like?"

He laid a hand on the telescope in front of him, but didn't look through it again for the rest of the night. There was, after all, nothing there he hadn't seen many times before.

It was 2 AM when Ryo heard the front door key turning.

He had been falling asleep on the couch. He leapt to his feet and ran a hand over his face, hurrying to rub sleep out of his eyes.

So that when the front door opened, Ryo was the one to flip on the switch at the hall. "Touma!" he greeted loudly; he wasn't conscious enough to modulate himself yet.

Touma stepped inside and looked up at Ryo.

There was a large patch of bandage taped over Touma's right eye, his long bangs incapable of obscuring it. His shirt was clean, though there were a few spatters of blood on his jeans that the glare of the hallway light made starker. His upper right arm was bandaged too, though there was no splint as far as Ryo could see.

The sight of him was still enough to wake Ryo fully.

"Touma!" he cried. He dashed forward and grabbed Touma by the shoulders. "You're hurt! What happened?!"

Touma seemed not to recognize Ryo. His eyes did not seem dazed, but they did seem distant, as if he had set his mind on doing something, and someone he didn't know had gotten in his way.

With one unhurried movement he swept Ryo's hands away. Then he shut and locked the front door. And set about removing his shoes.

"Tadaima," he said softly to the floor, not caring if anyone else heard.

As Ryo watched, horrified and helpless, Touma walked further into the living room. Slouched off to the room that he and Seiji shared, ignoring everything, even the lack of lights.

Touma stepped inside and promptly forgot to close the bedroom door. It hung open impudently, inviting Ryo to approach.

Still out of sorts from being so rudely awakened, Ryo debated with himself on what to do. Should he step inside and see how Touma was doing? Confront him, perhaps? Or should he take Touma's attitude as a dismissal well earned, and retire to his own room?

Ryo decided that he wouldn't be able to sleep without seeing if Touma was all right first.

As silently as he could, Ryo opened the bedroom door wider so he could see inside.

The faint city lights streaming in from the window were enough for him to see: they were lying on the same bed, Seiji's bed, turned toward each other.

Touma's face was buried in Seiji's shoulder.

In Seiji's arms, Touma seemed to have shrunk into something small and defenseless. He lay outside the blankets, holding Seiji as close to himself as he could afford to, seemingly not caring that he was lying on his bandaged arm. It seemed, for all the world, like looking at a lost infant who had just found his way back into a parent's loving embrace.

The questions that Ryo thought had dissolved a while ago started to take shape again. They were the two most important people in the world to him at this moment. How long had they known? Why had they not told him?

How many times had they made love on that bed?

And why was it so painful to see this?

Seiji's hand brushed Touma's hair and caressed his back. When Seiji saw that Ryo was at the doorway, he fell still and held Ryo's gaze for a moment. Touma did not move at all, seeming not to notice.

Then Seiji's index finger rose to his lips.

Ryo didn't even have the energy to nod. He stepped out and very slowly, very quietly closed the door after him.

Even after he had done this, he did not go back to his room. His strength left him and he sat, back to the door, a heavy weight in his chest.

He didn't know how to feel.