Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Razorblade Romance ❯ Track 010: Resurrection ( Chapter 10 )

***I'm back to completely messing with canon again, and the italicised section is from Yohji's point of view. I should also point out that I have very little medical knowledge, apart from ten minutes of scouring the internet. That's why everything is probably incorrect!***

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Track Ten: Resurrection

 

 

There was a time when I could breathe my life into you;

And one by one, your pale fingers started to move.

And I touched your face, and all life was erased.

You smiled like an angel falling from grace.

 

 

We've been slaves to this love

From the moment we touched

And keep begging for more

Of this resurrection.

 

 

And you kissed my lips with those once-cold fingertips

You reached out for me and oh, how you missed

You touched my face and all life was erased

You smiled like an angel falling from grace.

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

“Excuse me, ah…Mr Fujimiya, I presume?”

 

 

I make a fairly noncommittal noise in reply, and the doctor looks somewhat taken aback. I keep forgetting that the staff at this hospital aren't used to me; the last time I was in one of these wretched places, the employees all knew that I wasn't the greatest conversationalist.

 

 

I hope that I'm not here long enough for that to happen a second time.

 

 

“Ahem…Well, it's about the patient in room 425…the John Doe? His condition is finally stable, but…”

 

 

There's always a `but' with these people. I refused to give them Yohji's name, because otherwise it would be too easy for Kritiker to track us…it's been a week since I pulled Yohji from the burning wreckage of the Esset facility; he hasn't opened his eyes yet. I know exactly what the doctor is about to say.

 

 

“…he isn't showing any signs of consciousness, and we don't know how long it will take for him to reawaken. It could be anything from a few days to, well…we have to be prepared for the possibility that he might not regain consciousness.”

 

 

We have to, do we? This man doesn't care whether or not Yohji wakes up; if he means that I should be ready for that possibility, he should just come out and say it like that. Then again…they said the same thing about Aya.

 

 

Hope isn't an emotion that I am particularly accustomed to; I shouldn't be encouraging it now. It will only lead to disappointment.

 

 

“Spare me the lecture. I've been through this before.”

 

 

The doctor gives me an odd look, one that could either mean that he's disgusted by my attitude, or surprised by my apparent calm.

 

 

I'm not calm in the least; I swore never to let anyone else get harmed because of my pathetic leadership. And what did I do just hours after that? I sent Yohji into a fight that he may never recover from. The man I love is lying motionless in a disgustingly sterile hospital room; it's a pathetic reprisal of that same situation from years ago.

 

 

“Oh, very well, then. Now, as to the extent of his injuries…We put the broken leg in a cast, although it almost needed pins. The break was extremely severe, but I think that we got it set before any permanent damage could be done. The various cuts on his body have been stitched, and scarring should be kept to a minimum, although he will probably have one or two major marks for the rest of his life. The head trauma is the one which we are most worried about. How did you say that he happened to obtain that injury, again?”

 

 

“I didn't.”

 

 

It's true. So far, I've avoided all questions about how this occurred and what it is that we do. This isn't a Kritiker hospital, and they're getting suspicious…If I must, I will be fully prepared to contact Takatori and give him this mess to sort out. But I refuse to allow that to happen until I have gotten Yohji out of here; I won't let them have him again.

 

 

“Yes, well…I suppose that it's your business, if that's the way you are so inclined. Until he wakes up, it's impossible to tell as to the extent of his mental injuries. There might be no severe effects from the blow he took; yet that seems highly unlikely. The positioning of the injury, as well as the amount of his head that it damaged leads us to believe that- if he wakes up at all- he might have a degree of memory loss, coordination problems, speech difficulties or even a complete change in personality and temperament.”

 

 

“Memory loss?”

 

 

Maybe you'll get what you once wanted after all, Yohji. When you said that you were Weiss, I was so happy at the thought that you would stay with me…maybe the gods have other plans for us. Bastards.

 

 

I won't lose the only person I have loved since my sister.

 

 

“Yes, it has been established that injuries to this extent often cause some degree of amnesia. There's no way to tell if it could be permanent or temporary, or whether it would be anterograde or retrograde, and also the types of memories that could be lost. Until he wakes up, we just can't know.”

 

 

Goddammit, I wish that they would simply give me a straight answer for once. All these variables…it's simply too much. And that's if he wakes up at all…

 

 

“You can visit with him now.”

 

 

Turning on my heel, I walk out of the waiting room towards Yohji's room. The doctor sounds like he's about to say something else, but I really don't care. I just want to see him…even if it is difficult seeing him so empty.

 

 

But as long as he's breathing…I can handle this.

 

 

Opening the door to his room, I'm glad that he has a single. The cost of this treatment is going to be a ridiculous amount, and it's coming out of my own pocket…and every cent is worth it. He deserves peace.

 

 

Now that I've broken from Kritiker, there is no steady income; depending on how long Yohji has to stay here, I may just have to take up working again. I've done construction before, to pay for Aya's treatment…I can do it once more, if I must.

 

 

Luckily, I have enough saved up to support both him and myself for a while, not that I am my main priority right now. I'm sure that I look dishevelled and atrocious, having spent the last week here, but that's not important. What matters is being here for Yohji, no matter what.

 

 

I left Aya while she was vulnerable and that ended just wonderfully, didn't it. I won't let anyone else hurt Yohji; even if it is my fault that he's like this right now.

 

 

He looks so…peaceful. Like he's simply sleeping; which in a manner of speaking, I suppose he is. His hair is growing out, and the darker roots are showing from the awful dye-job. There are bandages all over the skin that I can see, and his splinted leg is raised slightly; and yet, the sight of him is the most beautiful thing that I can remember seeing in a very long time.

 

 

I truly didn't think that I was going to find him before the emergency services team did. I had to stay out of their sight; too many questions, otherwise. I'd almost given up the thought of finding him alive when I saw a horrible amount of blood on the ground…a slight trail led to a motionless shape, and instinct screamed that it was Yohji.

 

Without even considering the possibility of spinal injury, I rolled the body over to check who it was; it was Yohji, and he was in a very bad way.

 

 

There was blood streaming down his face, and his leg was bent at an angle that had to have been excruciatingly painful. Wrapping him in my coat, I picked up his body and made directly for where I hoped my car would still be; I could have sworn that at one point he rasped out my name, but he never moved apart from uneasy breathing and he seemed to be unconscious the entire time.

 

 

The closest hospital had no relation to Kritiker; I was glad. The questions they asked made it somewhat difficult, but I would rather not have to repair ties with those self-righteous bastards. If I have no other choice, they can have me; but they will never get Yohji unless he is certain that he wishes to return.

 

 

Of that much, I am completely sure.

 

 

Dropping into the seat by Yohji's bed, a terrible sense of familiarity floods into me. I never wanted to be in this situation again; once was hard enough. The only difference now is that there is no vengeance to be had, because Tsuji is dead and there is no one else to blame for this but me.

 

 

I run my hand lightly down Yohji's arm, dodging around adhesive bandages and the I.V. puncturing his golden skin. Seeing the needle in his arm makes me wonder; he told me once that he did a lot of drugs when he was younger…but he never told me why. Was he escaping from the reality of his life, or trying to mask some sort of pain?

 

 

I don't want to think about this…being in another of these hospitals is sending my brain to terribly dark places. I just want to get out of here but…I can't leave Yohji now. It was difficult enough being in another room, and so I refuse to abandon him at this point.

 

 

I want to beg him to wake up, so that I can let him know how much I love him, and that I'm sorry for everything that I've done to him…

 

 

“Please, Yohji…open your eyes…”

 

 

I don't expect him to listen. Still, I can't help but try…gently placing my palm on his check, I press my lips against his. There's no response from him, and I slump back into the hard hospital chair, defeated.

 

 

How long will it take…how long will I have to suffer? I thought the worst was done when Aya woke up, and that nothing would ever hurt that much again…Clearly, I was completely wrong.

 

 

This is worse than my sister, and now I know what true rock bottom feels like.

 

 

I killed for Aya…but I would die for Yohji.

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

It's…dark. There's no sense of time in this place…I occasionally see flashes of colour; maybe memories, maybe just figments of my imagination.

 

 

The voices, too. I don't catch much of what they actually say, but I can tell that it's mostly two people. One of them is female, and she seems to spend most of her time talking with the other voice.

 

 

That one's male, and it has a deep rumble to it that seems almost…pained. He says a lot, and no one usually answers, so I guess he must be talking to me. I feel rude not answering, but I just can't move my body.

 

 

I don't feel any pain, and I wonder how long I'm going to have to live like this…if you can call it `living'. Occasionally I feel someone touching my arm, my face, my hair…I think it's the man with the deep voice, but I just can't place who he should be.

 

I don't know what happened to me, and there's just…nothing there. The male voice seems vaguely familiar, but there's no name, or even a face.

 

 

I wish that I could just wake up, or remember…but it's not happening.

 

 

I don't like this place.

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

It's been thirty-six days since I brought Yohji here. He hasn't moved in that time, much less shown any signs of waking. Apparently, hope for him is wearing thin.

 

 

Ken somehow found us last week. He said that he wanted to say goodbye before he used Takatori's influence to put him in prison. Apparently, he thinks that he'll get himself in order by doing that.

 

 

I'm glad for him…There was something in his eyes for a long time, a growing psychosis that could easily have put us all in danger. If there is one of us who can be redeemed…it's Ken.

 

 

This chair by Yohji's bed has basically become my new home. The doctors and nurses don't even realise that I'm here, most of the time.

 

 

Sighing, I reach out to gently stroke his face. My fingers freeze when I feel muscles twitch under my caress, and I can only watch as his mouth curves into a smile. My breathing starts to come faster and I can't help but smile as well, running my palm across his forehead and down his cheek.

 

 

He looks like a fallen angel…scarred, damaged and painfully gorgeous, smiling for the first time since the morning that I…that I broke his heart. Again.

 

 

Movement catches my eye, and I look down as his fingers slowly stretch out, one by one. Slapping the button to call a nurse, I use my spare hand to lift his, revelling in the feel of the slightly moving fingers.

 

 

This is the most movement he's shown in the past month, and my heart feels like it might just tear out of my chest from the possibility that he's regaining consciousness. I know that it's unlikely, but…I just want to hear his voice once again.

 

 

A nurse walks into the room; I recognise her. In a cruel twist of fate, her name is Asuka. I'd rather anyone but her here if Yohji is actually going to wake up, but there is not much that I can do.

 

 

“What's going…Oh!”

 

 

Just as she entered the room, his eyelids twitched, and they began to open. For the first time since I threw him my sword, I see those shining green eyes.

 

 

The sight shocks me and I step back, hitting the wall as Nurse Asuka calls for a doctor. I might just start hyperventilating…he's awake; what's he going to be like? Is he going to remember? Has something terrible happened because of his injuries?

 

 

Shockingly, he starts to sit up. Hand rubbing his head, I hear his voice speak out, dry and cracked from lack of use.

 

 

“Where…am I?”

 

 

I vaguely watch the nurse as she talks to him; asks him whether he knows his name.

 

 

“My…name? I…I don't remember…”

 

 

The words reach through my stupor and something in me breaks.

 

 

He doesn't remember.

 

 

All rational thought gone, I turn from the wall and walk straight out of the room. I pass the doctor, but he doesn't speak. My hands rise up and grab my biceps as I stumble down the corridor, heading for the exit and starting to shiver.

 

 

He's…forgotten. What's going to happen now? Will he remember me, what we had once upon a time?

 

 

Or is everything gone?

 

 

I should go back and be there with him, for him, but I can't. If he looks at me without recognition…Oh, God, I love him too much for that. Stepping out into the open air, I slide down against the wall of the hospital until I'm sitting on the ground.

 

 

Tears start running down my face as I consider a world where Yohji doesn't know who I am.

 

 

It's a fate that could be worse than death.

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

My head hurts like a son of a bitch…Apparently, I've been in this hospital for a month. I don't know how I got here, or how I got my injuries…I don't actually remember anything.

 

 

Oh, I know all about the basic stuff; I remember how to walk, how to hold a conversation, and how to flirt with that cute nurse, but…I don't even know my own name.

 

 

It feels like there's something or…or someone that should be here with me…is it the man with the deep voice who I kept hearing while I was in that coma? Why isn't he here anymore? Maybe he wasn't even real in the first place. Will the nurse know?

 

 

“Nurse? Tell me, was there anyone here with me when I was asleep? I remember hearing your lovely voice, but was there a…man?”

 

 

Her eyes widen and she coughs to clear her throat. She blushes slightly, but I don't know why. Did he try and pick her up or something?

 

 

“Ah, yes. There was the man who brought you in here…he stayed by your side until you woke up earlier, but…no one's seen him since.”

 

 

Something aches at the back of my head, possibly a memory straining to break through the haze of what little I remember. The man who brought me here…what was he to me, and why isn't he here now?

 

 

“What did he look like? Did he tell you his name, or how we knew each other?”

 

 

“Umm…He did say his name once, but I can't quite recall it…I think his surname may have started with an F, or maybe it was something else…But I do remember what he looked like. He had this brown, almost red hair, really quite pale skin, and these amazing purple eyes. He really was quite an attractive man.”

 

 

I guess that's why she was blushing. Someone must've had a bit of a crush.

 

 

“A good-looking man, hey? Well, aren't I just the luckiest…”

 

 

She beams, and I vaguely find myself thinking about how pretty she is when she smiles. Her nametag reads `Itou Asuka'…it seems like there's something familiar there, but I can't really pick what…This amnesia is really fucking annoying. There's a very important detail that I'm missing here, only I don't have the slightest idea what it could be!

 

 

It gets incredibly painful when I push too hard to remember, but several times over the last few hours I've felt so close to remembering various things, but then the stabbing pain sets in and I have to stop. Apparently, this is all because I took a severe blow to the head. None of the doctors know how it happened; clearly the redheaded man never told them.

 

 

I might not remember why I'm here, but there are clues all across my body. From what I've seen, my skin has scars all over it; marks that are too old to have been from this accident.

 

 

Whatever I did before ending up in here, it can't have involved anything boring. Other than that, there isn't anything that I know.

 

 

I asked the doctor whether my memories would come back; he said they might. Might? I don't know whether I can live like this, as a man without a past…I might as well be dead.

 

 

I can't help but think that the redheaded man with the deep voice is the key to everything…why hasn't he come back?

 

 

I know it hasn't been long since I woke up; it was only a few hours ago, but still…I need to talk to this man. Who is he?

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Sitting bolt upright, it takes me a few seconds to realise where I am. This is the hospital that I woke up in a few days ago, where I opened my eyes and started on a blank slate. My head aches, just like it's been doing almost constantly since I regained consciousness. Apparently, that's normal for people like me.

 

 

Rubbing my eyes, I feel tension flood my body when flashes of my dream come back to me.

 

 

I was lying back in a ridiculously oversized bed, feeling like I was about to sink into the mattress. There was a stretch of pale white skin in front of my eyes, a well-muscled but scarred torso…the pleasure of someone riding me with pure abandon…and a shock of red hair falling across purple eyes.

 

 

An undeniably male and somewhat familiar voice groaning something unintelligible as he came, accompanied by my own shout of…Aya?

 

 

But isn't that…a female name? And is there something in the fact that the man I was fu-…that the man in my dream seemed so similar to Asuka's description of my mysterious rescuer?

 

 

The headache only intensifies. Maybe none of this is worth remembering anyway; he hasn't come back, and I don't remember anything about him besides what my unreliable dreams try to tell me.

 

 

This is the chance for a new start…maybe I should simply accept that fact, and not worry about brief glimpses of a life that, for all intents and purposes, means nothing.

 

 

If he's abandoned me now, maybe we truly don't mean anything to each other. It still feels like an important memory is trying to break through, but it simply can't. Tomorrow, I'm going to accept my fate, and if my memory doesn't come back…I'll start a new life.

 

 

There's not much else I can do.

 

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

I'm not going to go back and visit him. All I did was cause him pain, when I just wanted him to be happy. I called the hospital, and they filled me in on the details of his condition. The amnesia seems permanent, they said.

 

 

Now, if he doesn't regain his memories, he'll be free of everything. What I've done, what Neu did, how Asuka died, all the people he has killed…it hurts to know that I can't be a part of his life anymore, but it's better for him this way…even if it's not better for me.

 

 

He can find himself someone to settle down with, a person who can be open to him and free with their love…it's the least that he deserves.

 

 

In two days, I'm returning to Kritiker. I made a deal that I would go back to them if they agreed to stay away from Yohji's new life…Takatori acquiesced almost instantly. As much as I despise the thought of working for them again, it's what I have to do in order to keep Yohji safe.

 

 

I've negotiated a position as a solo worker…the idea of a new team is repugnant. I truly thought that I was done with Kritiker; but there's too much blood on my hands to ever leave this life.

 

 

Yohji and Ken have found their exits by trying to bring out the human that lived beneath the murderer…I don't have that humanity anymore.

 

 

I'm the bringer of death, and everything I touch turns to shit.

 

 

Maybe one day, I'll see Yohji as I walk down the street, and I'll admire from a distance the man I will always love…but that's as far as it will be possible for me to go. There's no happy ending for me, but I can ensure that Yohji gets the best possible start to his new life.

 

 

I'm still paying the hospital bills, and I've given the hospital the information about his bank accounts. He'll probably never know who am I or why I did this for him…but somewhere deep inside his mind, there will always be a part of Kudoh Yohji still living on.

 

 

Maybe one day he'll remember everything…but until then, if it happens at all, I'll mourn for the man I love, now hidden beneath the new identity that he'll forge for himself.

 

 

No matter what comes to pass…I will never stop loving Yohji.