What It Would Be Like -- Chapter 6
Series: Weiß Kreuz
Author: Shukujo Kurai
Rating: R
Pairings: A+Y/Y+A
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, TWT, supernatural, child-abuse
Disclaimer: *holds up cardboard sign* I do not own Weiß Kreuz...obviously.
Dedication: To MD-neechan, Duo-kun, Soulstrife, and Nekojita. Thanks so much for everything, guys. Also, to all the supportive reviewers. I'm afraid I'd miss one if I tried to give everyone credit. Thank you all so much for your support.
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny.
Okay...once again, I've been stuck on this chapter for EVER...I thought I'd never get around to even STARTING it...but everyone's reviews spurred me on. Everyone loves this story...I hope I don't ruin it for everyone.
//~~~// indicate flashbacks or memories, depending on whose POV it's in. ||~~~|| indicate what's on the tape player.
Oh, this is ALL in Aya's POV again. So when there is a line of hyphens, it just denotes a scene change. kk?
=================
This is my punishment for preferring people to pay in cash, I'm sure of it. I realize this as I sift through more records in the Koneko than Ken has soccer balls. I really don't have time for this.
"Come on." Manx's tired voice orders me as she heads toward the door. "There are a few things I think you should know before you go after these guys."
I don't bother to ask whether or not I should bring the records with me, I just leave them behind. She knows more than she's telling me, I'm sure of it.
---------
I drum my fingers against the desk of a random Kritiker intelligence agent. Why am I here? I should be going after Youji. Again, I find myself wondering if Manx and the rest of Kritiker really don't want me to find Youji. Why else would they keep stalling me? They know that I could find him within a few hours.
Manx tosses down a tape player, seeming to be in a hurry to get out of here. "Here. Listen to this." She turns to leave without another word.
"Where are you going?" I demand, almost to the point of tying her to this chair.
She pauses and her head lowers. "I heard that tape once...I don't want to hear it again." Her heels make clicking sounds as she practically runs out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I do nothing but raise an eyebrow and turn back around to stare at the tape player. It's probably full of things that I already know about. Hidden things from Youji's past, things about the abuse from his father, things about the mother's death. All I can do is put the headphones on and hit play since I know I won't get out of here until I do.
|| "Social Services case number 30095 - Kudou Youji." A light male voice reads mechanically.
The sounds of a door creaking open and footsteps can be heard amidst the white noise from the tape.
"You must be Youji." The same male voice greets. "I'm Doctor Hisumo."
Silence.
"Have a seat." The doctor tells the silent boy. "Where'd you get all those bruises from? And those bandaged ones?"
Again, nothing.
"Is it a secret?"
No sounds come from the boy. ||
Hesitantly, I touch the player, afraid of what I might see.
I see the young, heavily bandaged Youji sitting across from a lanky doctor with sandy brown hair. Youji's hands are folded in his lap and he's staring at the table.
The player's still playing, I know, but I can no longer hear the white noise. It's like I'm sitting between the two, an uninvited invisible observer.
//"You don't talk much, do you, Youji?" The doctor asks, trying to get anything out of the boy across from him.
A tiny fist comes up to clutch at the opposite sleeve of the hospital scrubs that Youji's wearing.
A look of contemplation crosses the doctor's face before a devious smirk replaces it. It's like he knows what he's about to do, that it could either bring Youji out of his shell or push him further in. "How's your mother?"
Youji winces visibly and his arms move to wrap around his small torso. "Still dead." He replies softly without inflection or emotion.
"Oh?" The doctor feigns surprise. "Sorry....we'll move on."//
I growl softly because I know it's a ploy to get Youji to talk to him.
//"....I miss her." Youji finally whispers as a small tear falls onto his lap.
"If you don't mind my asking, how did she die?" Doctor Hisumo asks, trying to be objective, but obviously surprised by the earnest comment from the boy.
"She was killed." The voice still remains emotionless and empty, which is probably disturbing the doctor to no end.
"Do you know who killed her?"
Youji stays silent for a few minutes then nods slowly.
"Will you tell me?"
Green eyes look up, broken and haunted. "You're not ready yet." A surprisingly steady voice explains.
"I'm not?" The doctor asks, scribbling down things. "When will I be ready?"
The tiny form across from him glares with hatred. "When you've heard everything else."
The glare from his young patient seems to be getting to the doctor more than anticipated. "So..."
Youji's small mouth goes to one side. "You're not very competent, are you?"
The doctor's eyes open widely, surprised at either the comment itself or the vocabulary with which the small boy graces him with. "How old are you, Youji?"
"...twelve."
"How long ago did your mother die?" The doctor probes further, probably only adding to the damage inside Youji.
"......six years ago."
"Who kept you after that?"
Silence.
"Youji?" The doctor asks, leaning over slightly to talk to make sure his patient hasn't gone catatonic or anything. "I just want to know who you lived with after your mother passed away, that's all."
"...I lived with the father." Youji mumbles into his sweatpants.
"You don't like your father?"//
I want to scream, I want to rip that doctor's head off for pushing Youji this far.
//"....You're supposed to love your parents, right?" Youji asks, leaving his head buried in the soft material of his pants.
"Not necessarily." The doctor replies, finally saying something right. "Parents can be bad people and no one has the obligation to love a bad person."
"I'm a bad person...does that mean that no body has to love me?"
The doctor raises an eyebrow at this comment. "I seriously doubt that you're a bad person, Youji. But no one has to love anyone else, whether they're good or bad. Love is a conscious choice."
Youji remains silent for a few minutes and the doctor waits patiently. "I loved my mother...but I don't love the father...the father is a bad person."
"How is he a bad person? Does he get angry a lot?"
"...yeah."
"I get angry too, does that make me a bad person?"
"...yes."
The doctor pauses for a few seconds, carefully trying to sort out what's going on in Youji's head. "What does 'getting angry' involve?"
Youji looks up and graces the doctor with a look that clearly says 'you're-an-adult,-you-should-know'. He sighs and puts his head back down on his knees. "When you get angry, you hit things."
"People too?"
"Mostly people."
Doctor Hisumo dawns a look of understanding. "Does it involve drinking?"
"...sometimes, but it doesn't have to."
"Did your father drink a lot?"
"...yes."
"Did your mother drink?"
"No!" Youji yells, defending the only person he's ever loved. "Mama didn't drink! Mama hated drinking. She only drank water. The father called her a 'hippy'."
"Where was your mama from?" The doctor asks, trying to find neutral ground.
"Am...Amer…ica." Youji stumbles on the foreign name.
"You have a good English accent. Did your mother teach you English?"
"Yes, sir." Youji replies in English. "But the father didn't like it because he didn't speak it very well." He continues, still in the foreign language as though it were his own.
"Good grammar as well. You're a smart boy, aren't you?"
Youji just shrugs. "Being smart got Mama in trouble."
"With your father?"
"The father hated anyone smarter than he was. Mama was smarter, but he was 'clever'." Youji pauses. "What is 'clever'? Mama called the father 'clever' a lot, but she never told me what it meant."
"It's like 'quick' or 'resourceful'. Sometimes it's meant to convey having street-smarts instead of being book-smart."
Youji looks up with a raised eyebrow. "Oh..." He says, still not quite grasping it. "Mama said the father was manipulative." He informs the doctor, still using English.
This time the doctor raises an eyebrow. "You know what manipulative means?" He's obviously having a hard time keeping up with Youji's English abilities.
"Mm-hmm. It's when you wrongly use people to your advantage....blackmailing is manipulative." Youji replies easily with a nod to confirm his definition.
"That's right." The doctor praises him with a look of awe. "You're like a little dictionary."
"Mama bought me a dictionary once, but the father found it and burnt it." He picks at the drawstring of his pants.
"I bet your father did more than just that..."
Youji nods. "Mama couldn't open her left eye for a few days...or smile." He pauses. "I loved to see her smile...she was pretty."
"I bet it bothered you when it hurt her too much to smile." The doctor prods.
"Yes. Sometimes it was so bad that neither Mama or I could chew our food 'cause our faces were so sore." He admits, seeming to trust the doctor more and more.
The doctor frowns when Youji's not looking. "Did that happen a lot?"
"Not at the same time. It was either Mama or me." He looks back up, smiling at something. "Guess what Mama did after the father got so mad!"
"What'd she do?" The doctor asks, smiling back at Youji.
"She bought me a 'pocket dictionary' and told me never to let the father see it." He smiles proudly.
"She sounds like a brave woman."
Youji regards the doctor with blank eyes, his mind trying to process the comment. "'Brave' is being strong up here," a bandaged finger points to Youji's head, "right?"
"Yeah, pretty much so. It's not being afraid."
Youji tilts his head to one side. "Mama was afraid, but it wasn't for her safety. She was afraid that I'd get hurt."
"Why didn't your mother ever leave your father?"
Youji looks away. "She did once...she took me with her."
"What happened?"
"The father found us...Mama couldn't move at all for a few days...I couldn't either."
The doctor winces. "He hurt you that bad?"
"Badly." Youji corrects. "It's 'badly'. And yes, he did."
The doctor can't help but to smile a bit. "Your mother taught you English very well." He regards Youji with a curious expression. "I thought you said that being smart gets you into trouble."
Youji looks the doctor straight in the eyes. "You won't hit me. You're not the father. If you do, I'll hit you right back. I'm not afraid of you."
"Why aren't you afraid of me, Youji?" The doctor asks.
"You haven't given me a reason to be." Youji replies. "Besides, you get paid to be nice."
--------------------
An hour later, I've gone through the first tape. There's nothing else of much importance on it, just Youji telling the doctor how much he loved his mother and hated 'the father'. I'm still working around the whole 'the father' thing. The only thing that I can figure is that it depersonalizes the relationship between Kudou Rouhi and Youji.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. It's sad how close the two names are when you write them in English. Just two letters apart. Rouhi and Youji.
I have to shake my head to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. The names are so close...and the apple never falls far from the tree. Youji's playboy nature doesn't help clear things up for me. Was his father a playboy too? What if Youji's turning into his father?
"You made it through the first one?" Manx asks as she pops her head in.
"Hn." Is all I can grunt out.
"Do you want the rest?" She offers, the tapes already in her hands.
"Don't you have transcripts of these?" I bite out, frustrated with the time I'm wasting.
She steps in and fiddles with the five cassettes in her hand. "I just thought they'd help more....with the...." She fumbles over the non-existent word for my so-called gift.
I look her in the eyes, noticing only worry and sincerity. She doesn't want to terminate Youji. None of us do. "Are you working on tracking him, on finding that woman?" I ask, needing to know that someone's doing something constructive while I'm strolling down fucking memory lane.
"Yes. Twenty of Kritiker's analysts are on it." She looks behind her at the closed door. "He wasn't wearing a tracking device."
"He hated them." I add, tracing the outline of the first cassette. "Omi and I always had to force him to wear one on missions." A vague smile graces my face as I remember the hassle Omi and I always went through every mission. That was how Youji operated.
She smiles back and lays the tapes on the desk. "If at any time you decide to discontinue....to stop going through the tapes, just come out. I'll be out there talking to the analysts." She informs me, then leaves.
I grab the tape marked two and pop it in.
-----------------------
||Social Services case number 30095: Kudou Youji.||
I can't suppress the sigh as I reach out to touch the tape player.
//I see the doctor sitting at their usual table, talking into his tape recorder.
"Youji is the first child I've encountered in my time as a psychologist who has endured so much trauma throughout life and HASN'T developed a disorder such as MPD or disassociative identity. Since these disorders are caused by the individual's particular coping mechanisms, I can only wonder what Youji's are."
"You're talking about me again, aren't you?" Youji's light voice cuts in before the door opens more than a crack. As he enters, I notice that he's sporting a new bandage on his face.
"What happened to your cheek?" The doctor asks, his interest having been piqued.
Youji flops down on the chair across from the doctor, obviously unhappy with this choice of conversation. "Some of the other kids at the orphanage."
The doctor rolls his eyes. "It's not--"
"I know, I know," Youji cuts him off, "It's not an orphanage, it's an adolescent homeless shelter." He rolls his green eyes. "Orphanage even sounds better."
"Would you like to go into foster care?" The doctor asks.
Again, Youji rolls his eyes. "If you'd actually check up on me once in a while, you'd know that they've tried to put me in foster homes."
The doctor has the decency to blush at Youji's comment.
"They send me back 'cause I don't get along with anyone...and they don't like my nightmares and flashbacks." He leans over and pouts against his crossed arms that rest on his legs. "Remember when you said love is a conscious choice?"
The doctor nods.
"Maybe it's not, you know? These people make the choice to love whatever child gets sent to their home, but they can't love me. They send me back. Maybe some people are just unlovable." Youji sighs against his ratty blue jeans.
The doctor just watches him, apparently speechless.
After a few seconds of silence between the two, the doctor grabs his briefcase and yanks some papers out. "Do you know what these are?" He asks, voice nearly cracking, shoving them at Youji.
Youji's green eyes calmly look at them, then widen slightly. "...Adoption papers?" He looks back up at the doctor, eyes wide and disbelieving. "But...why?"
"That'll make the fifth set." Doctor Hisumo grumbles pitifully, yanking more sets out of his briefcase. He slides them over to Youji, the giant red 'rejected' prominent on them.
".....why?" The tiny boy across from him squeaks out.
"I'm single. They want a family with a mother and a father for you." He sighs softly. "I guess that'd be best, you know."
"No...I don't know." Youji interjects. "All those 'preferred families' have rejected me," a small warm smile crosses his face, "but maybe a 'rejected family' prefers me."//
I'd watch more, finally finding out that my teammate actually found something akin to happiness, but the visions go haywire on me. One minute I'm smiling at Youji's happier childhood memories, the next I'm on the floor writhing as less pleasant memories flood my head.
//"Papa?" A slightly older and healthier looking Youji backs up from the scene before him where his real father and the blonde man are holding a bleeding Dr. Hisumo at knifepoint.
"Yes, Youji, now you're going to come with us or --"
"You shut the hell up and let go of my papa!" Youji screams, cutting Rouhi off.
Rouhi doesn't appreciate this comment. "I raised you, boy, not this scrap of a man!" He yells, the knife digging into Dr. Hisumo's neck.
"Run, Youji!" The doctor manages to garble out.
"How the hell'd you get out anyway, you bastard?" Youji demands as he slings off his backpack.
"S'called 'bail', kid." The blonde answers in a bored tone.
"Well, who the hell'd pay YOUR bail?" Youji demands, digging in his back pocket for something.
"My lawyer." He replies easily. "Look, Rouhi, what are we gonna do with the shrink?"
Rouhi sighs. "The kid seems to be kind of attached to him, so we're gonna use him to OUR advantage."//
The scene flickers a bit, but only gets more intense.
//"Are you going to come with us, Youji?" the boy's father asks again, growing bored with his son and the half-dead psychiatrist.
Youji wipes away tears as he looks at the blood-soaked form of his adoptive father. "...Yes."
"No!" Dr. Hisumo gurgles out, his body too damaged to do anything else.
Rouhi rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you child-stealing bastard." He grumbles as he plunges the knife into the wounded man's chest.
Youji watches the scene, tears streaming down his face, too traumatized to move.
The dark-haired man turns to the boy. "You see now, boy? Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."
Mindlessly, Youji nods.//
"Abyssinian?"
"Sir?"
"Are you alright?"
Voices cut through the blackness as the last vision fades and another one tries to begin. I must have been screaming or something loud enough to attract all this attention.
"No! Don't touch him!" Manx's voice orders them all. "You'll interrupt any visions he might get, any clues to finding Balinese."
Her voice gets drowned out as a vision takes place. I see Youji and a young woman -- his fiancee -- walking through the park, working on cases, visiting places, eating at nice restaurants -- all the happy things that people never really stop and think about, never really appreciate until they're gone. Then I see the woman throwing herself in front of Youji, taking bullets for her lover. She falls to the ground and Youji proceeds to get shot repeatedly. As he briefly studies his attackers, a look of recognition crosses his face before he falls as well, reaching out for his fiancee's hand.
The voice of Kudou Rouhi booms in the background, a memory from the last murder. //"Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."//
The scene changes to the mission where that prostitute, Maki, was killed.
Then I see him having to kill Neu, the new Asuka. I watch as he slowly falls apart, drinking himself into oblivion while none of Weiß even notices or cares.
Then I see something I'm really not familiar with, a Youji with short, chopped hair killing another woman while crying softly, whispering her name -- Michelle.
Then I see the same shorthaired Youji killing another woman, a rather insane-seeming one, muttering something about a Tsuji-sensei.
Again, the scene cuts away to a shot of the shorthaired Youji with three other men. He's yelling at them, asking them why they're so sure that they're in the right with their justice. He turns to one, a short boy with grey-ish hair and an outfit that reminds me strangely of a Nazi, and calls him by name. Omi. He turns to another, a boy with odd brown hair and fox-like brown eyes, and calls him Ken. Then he turns to a man with long burgundy hair, his own green eyes begging the man to understand, and calls him Aya.
I scream. No, this can't be Weiß, that can't be me! That man glaring at Youji without a shred of compassion cannot be me. I won't let it be me! I grab my head in pain and let out a loud, ear-piercing shriek.
//"Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."//
The visions don't stop. I see that shorthaired Youji in his room or apartment, whatever. He's got his head on his knees and he's talking to nothing.
//"God...why? Why is my life such a shithole?"//
As the words leave his lips, I see flashes from his past. His mother being beaten....
//"Why...why is it that no one understands?"//
His mother being raped by Richard in their shitty hole-in-the-wall...
//"Why doesn't anyone care?!"//
Him being raped by both Rouhi and Richard...
//"Why can't I just die?!"//
His mother being killed by Rouhi...
//"Why can't I die?!"//
Dr. Hisumo being tortured and finally killed at the hands of Rouhi...
//"Goddamnit!" The wire in his hands wraps around his wrist.//
Asuka dying before his eyes...
//"Cut...deeper, damn you!"//
Maki being killed...
//The scene itself changes to the new Weiß on a mission, Youji being the decoy. "God...it's always me...the expendable one..."//
Asuka as Neu coming back with Schreint and trying to kill us...
//"The feckless playboy...that no one needs." Youji runs out to draw fire away from the rest of us.//
Youji having to kill his former fiancee...
//Bullets fly by his head, the strange cowboy hat still in place. "...that no one wants..."//
Youji fighting Rouhi and Richard as I storm in...
//"...that no one cares about."//
Youji looking up at me as I cradle his dying body in my arms, telling me that he didn't mean for any of this to happen, that he was afraid to tell us about his past, that he was sorry for existing...
//Youji looks up from his decoy duty to see the burgundy-haired version of me fighting some guy with my familiar katana. "Who's no leader..."//
Youji in the hospital, recovering from his wounds...
//"No teammate..."//
Youji having to get close to that Michelle-woman and then having to kill her...
//"No brother..."//
Youji having to kill the insane teacher...
//"No friend..."//
The new version of Weiß completely rejecting Youji, pushing him aside and negating his problems.
//He darts out as a laser sight targets on my back, knocking me out of the way, and taking the bullet for me.//
I can't help but to lose consciousness.
------------------------
I come to with a groan before scanning the area I'm in. Apparently they found a cot, put me on it, and left me in the same room with the tape player. This is happening far too often for my tastes. With a sigh, I think back to everything I saw while the tape was playing. So that's it, huh? Youji's the fated martyr of Weiß and that's all there is to it? Fate cannot be that cruel! We all have happy memories, every one of us, even those with the shittiest lives. But Youji...any pleasant memories he has are violently overshadowed by the tragic events of his past.
A knock at the door interrupts my rage. "Abyssinian?" Manx asks as the door creaks open.
I answer with an unhappy 'hn'.
"Did you find anything?" She asks, fidgeting with the hem of her business skirt.
Unbidden, a scowl forms on my face and the glare I'd been giving her intensifies to the point where she actually backs away. "You want to know what I found?" I growl out, my face contorting into some inhuman monster's. "Youji's going to die no matter what we do. Whether we save him now or not, he'll die."
Manx winces, then manages to muster up enough courage to look back up at me. "Aya," she starts, using my chosen first name for once, "of course he'll die; everyone does. It's a part of life that everyone must accept. What matters is if he dies surrounded by the people that he loves or if he dies in agony, surrounded by people that seek to do him harm."
I have to fight back the urge to sigh. "That's not what I'm talking about." I snap at her, angry with this entire situation. "No matter what we do, he'll die an agonizing death, either surrounded by enemies or giving his life for people that don't seem to notice him." The pointed glare that I give her leaves her knowing exactly who I mean.
She looks downward, also distressed by the predicament that we've found ourselves in.
"I hope Kritiker will be happy." I spit out, bitter and inconsolable. "You found your perfect martyr."
Her eyes meet mine as she gives me a look that's supposed to remind me of just who I'm speaking with.
"Tell me...will his death atone for your sins? Will his sacrifice miraculously make everything better?" I'm cut off by the slap of her hand against my face and the visions that follow.
I see us all at the memorial service Kritiker will hold for Youji. We're all normal again, Omi with his blonde hair and blue eyes, Ken with his clueless expression, and me with my bright red hair and eartails. Manx and Birman are stoic while Omi's loud sobs resonate around them. Then I see Manx as she opens the door to what I assume to be her apartment. She stumbles in, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her keys miss the table that she meant to drop them on, but this goes unnoticed. Instead, she lets out a piercing wail and grabs her hair, ripping at it before running headlong into a bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed and sobbing uncontrollably.
"Abyssinian?" She inquires sharply, still irked by my comment.
I look up at her, forcing myself to remain calm and remember that as much as she'd have us believe otherwise, she is indeed human. "Did your analysts find anything?" I ask, my voice even and emotionless.
"No." She replies, apparently forgiving me enough for her to sit down on the nearby chair.
I stand up, forgoing my orders to stay here. "Then I'm going to look for him myself." I announce as I grab my katana that's propped up near the desk.
She doesn't stop me this time.
===================
A/N: Okay, this was written nearly a year ago. (Wow...it's been that long!) Stupid college.
Sorry about the Glühen parts. I've never seen the series, so I'm not sure the information's correct. I tried to read a bunch of summaries, but oh well. If something's inaccurate, just let me know (preferably by email) and I'll fix it.
Also, sorry about all the psychology crap. *shrugs*
Series: Weiß Kreuz
Author: Shukujo Kurai
Rating: R
Pairings: A+Y/Y+A
Warnings: OOC, shounen-ai, TWT, supernatural, child-abuse
Disclaimer: *holds up cardboard sign* I do not own Weiß Kreuz...obviously.
Dedication: To MD-neechan, Duo-kun, Soulstrife, and Nekojita. Thanks so much for everything, guys. Also, to all the supportive reviewers. I'm afraid I'd miss one if I tried to give everyone credit. Thank you all so much for your support.
Author's note: Think Steven King's 'The Dead Zone'...and think Aya as Johnny.
Okay...once again, I've been stuck on this chapter for EVER...I thought I'd never get around to even STARTING it...but everyone's reviews spurred me on. Everyone loves this story...I hope I don't ruin it for everyone.
//~~~// indicate flashbacks or memories, depending on whose POV it's in. ||~~~|| indicate what's on the tape player.
Oh, this is ALL in Aya's POV again. So when there is a line of hyphens, it just denotes a scene change. kk?
=================
This is my punishment for preferring people to pay in cash, I'm sure of it. I realize this as I sift through more records in the Koneko than Ken has soccer balls. I really don't have time for this.
"Come on." Manx's tired voice orders me as she heads toward the door. "There are a few things I think you should know before you go after these guys."
I don't bother to ask whether or not I should bring the records with me, I just leave them behind. She knows more than she's telling me, I'm sure of it.
---------
I drum my fingers against the desk of a random Kritiker intelligence agent. Why am I here? I should be going after Youji. Again, I find myself wondering if Manx and the rest of Kritiker really don't want me to find Youji. Why else would they keep stalling me? They know that I could find him within a few hours.
Manx tosses down a tape player, seeming to be in a hurry to get out of here. "Here. Listen to this." She turns to leave without another word.
"Where are you going?" I demand, almost to the point of tying her to this chair.
She pauses and her head lowers. "I heard that tape once...I don't want to hear it again." Her heels make clicking sounds as she practically runs out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I do nothing but raise an eyebrow and turn back around to stare at the tape player. It's probably full of things that I already know about. Hidden things from Youji's past, things about the abuse from his father, things about the mother's death. All I can do is put the headphones on and hit play since I know I won't get out of here until I do.
|| "Social Services case number 30095 - Kudou Youji." A light male voice reads mechanically.
The sounds of a door creaking open and footsteps can be heard amidst the white noise from the tape.
"You must be Youji." The same male voice greets. "I'm Doctor Hisumo."
Silence.
"Have a seat." The doctor tells the silent boy. "Where'd you get all those bruises from? And those bandaged ones?"
Again, nothing.
"Is it a secret?"
No sounds come from the boy. ||
Hesitantly, I touch the player, afraid of what I might see.
I see the young, heavily bandaged Youji sitting across from a lanky doctor with sandy brown hair. Youji's hands are folded in his lap and he's staring at the table.
The player's still playing, I know, but I can no longer hear the white noise. It's like I'm sitting between the two, an uninvited invisible observer.
//"You don't talk much, do you, Youji?" The doctor asks, trying to get anything out of the boy across from him.
A tiny fist comes up to clutch at the opposite sleeve of the hospital scrubs that Youji's wearing.
A look of contemplation crosses the doctor's face before a devious smirk replaces it. It's like he knows what he's about to do, that it could either bring Youji out of his shell or push him further in. "How's your mother?"
Youji winces visibly and his arms move to wrap around his small torso. "Still dead." He replies softly without inflection or emotion.
"Oh?" The doctor feigns surprise. "Sorry....we'll move on."//
I growl softly because I know it's a ploy to get Youji to talk to him.
//"....I miss her." Youji finally whispers as a small tear falls onto his lap.
"If you don't mind my asking, how did she die?" Doctor Hisumo asks, trying to be objective, but obviously surprised by the earnest comment from the boy.
"She was killed." The voice still remains emotionless and empty, which is probably disturbing the doctor to no end.
"Do you know who killed her?"
Youji stays silent for a few minutes then nods slowly.
"Will you tell me?"
Green eyes look up, broken and haunted. "You're not ready yet." A surprisingly steady voice explains.
"I'm not?" The doctor asks, scribbling down things. "When will I be ready?"
The tiny form across from him glares with hatred. "When you've heard everything else."
The glare from his young patient seems to be getting to the doctor more than anticipated. "So..."
Youji's small mouth goes to one side. "You're not very competent, are you?"
The doctor's eyes open widely, surprised at either the comment itself or the vocabulary with which the small boy graces him with. "How old are you, Youji?"
"...twelve."
"How long ago did your mother die?" The doctor probes further, probably only adding to the damage inside Youji.
"......six years ago."
"Who kept you after that?"
Silence.
"Youji?" The doctor asks, leaning over slightly to talk to make sure his patient hasn't gone catatonic or anything. "I just want to know who you lived with after your mother passed away, that's all."
"...I lived with the father." Youji mumbles into his sweatpants.
"You don't like your father?"//
I want to scream, I want to rip that doctor's head off for pushing Youji this far.
//"....You're supposed to love your parents, right?" Youji asks, leaving his head buried in the soft material of his pants.
"Not necessarily." The doctor replies, finally saying something right. "Parents can be bad people and no one has the obligation to love a bad person."
"I'm a bad person...does that mean that no body has to love me?"
The doctor raises an eyebrow at this comment. "I seriously doubt that you're a bad person, Youji. But no one has to love anyone else, whether they're good or bad. Love is a conscious choice."
Youji remains silent for a few minutes and the doctor waits patiently. "I loved my mother...but I don't love the father...the father is a bad person."
"How is he a bad person? Does he get angry a lot?"
"...yeah."
"I get angry too, does that make me a bad person?"
"...yes."
The doctor pauses for a few seconds, carefully trying to sort out what's going on in Youji's head. "What does 'getting angry' involve?"
Youji looks up and graces the doctor with a look that clearly says 'you're-an-adult,-you-should-know'. He sighs and puts his head back down on his knees. "When you get angry, you hit things."
"People too?"
"Mostly people."
Doctor Hisumo dawns a look of understanding. "Does it involve drinking?"
"...sometimes, but it doesn't have to."
"Did your father drink a lot?"
"...yes."
"Did your mother drink?"
"No!" Youji yells, defending the only person he's ever loved. "Mama didn't drink! Mama hated drinking. She only drank water. The father called her a 'hippy'."
"Where was your mama from?" The doctor asks, trying to find neutral ground.
"Am...Amer…ica." Youji stumbles on the foreign name.
"You have a good English accent. Did your mother teach you English?"
"Yes, sir." Youji replies in English. "But the father didn't like it because he didn't speak it very well." He continues, still in the foreign language as though it were his own.
"Good grammar as well. You're a smart boy, aren't you?"
Youji just shrugs. "Being smart got Mama in trouble."
"With your father?"
"The father hated anyone smarter than he was. Mama was smarter, but he was 'clever'." Youji pauses. "What is 'clever'? Mama called the father 'clever' a lot, but she never told me what it meant."
"It's like 'quick' or 'resourceful'. Sometimes it's meant to convey having street-smarts instead of being book-smart."
Youji looks up with a raised eyebrow. "Oh..." He says, still not quite grasping it. "Mama said the father was manipulative." He informs the doctor, still using English.
This time the doctor raises an eyebrow. "You know what manipulative means?" He's obviously having a hard time keeping up with Youji's English abilities.
"Mm-hmm. It's when you wrongly use people to your advantage....blackmailing is manipulative." Youji replies easily with a nod to confirm his definition.
"That's right." The doctor praises him with a look of awe. "You're like a little dictionary."
"Mama bought me a dictionary once, but the father found it and burnt it." He picks at the drawstring of his pants.
"I bet your father did more than just that..."
Youji nods. "Mama couldn't open her left eye for a few days...or smile." He pauses. "I loved to see her smile...she was pretty."
"I bet it bothered you when it hurt her too much to smile." The doctor prods.
"Yes. Sometimes it was so bad that neither Mama or I could chew our food 'cause our faces were so sore." He admits, seeming to trust the doctor more and more.
The doctor frowns when Youji's not looking. "Did that happen a lot?"
"Not at the same time. It was either Mama or me." He looks back up, smiling at something. "Guess what Mama did after the father got so mad!"
"What'd she do?" The doctor asks, smiling back at Youji.
"She bought me a 'pocket dictionary' and told me never to let the father see it." He smiles proudly.
"She sounds like a brave woman."
Youji regards the doctor with blank eyes, his mind trying to process the comment. "'Brave' is being strong up here," a bandaged finger points to Youji's head, "right?"
"Yeah, pretty much so. It's not being afraid."
Youji tilts his head to one side. "Mama was afraid, but it wasn't for her safety. She was afraid that I'd get hurt."
"Why didn't your mother ever leave your father?"
Youji looks away. "She did once...she took me with her."
"What happened?"
"The father found us...Mama couldn't move at all for a few days...I couldn't either."
The doctor winces. "He hurt you that bad?"
"Badly." Youji corrects. "It's 'badly'. And yes, he did."
The doctor can't help but to smile a bit. "Your mother taught you English very well." He regards Youji with a curious expression. "I thought you said that being smart gets you into trouble."
Youji looks the doctor straight in the eyes. "You won't hit me. You're not the father. If you do, I'll hit you right back. I'm not afraid of you."
"Why aren't you afraid of me, Youji?" The doctor asks.
"You haven't given me a reason to be." Youji replies. "Besides, you get paid to be nice."
--------------------
An hour later, I've gone through the first tape. There's nothing else of much importance on it, just Youji telling the doctor how much he loved his mother and hated 'the father'. I'm still working around the whole 'the father' thing. The only thing that I can figure is that it depersonalizes the relationship between Kudou Rouhi and Youji.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. It's sad how close the two names are when you write them in English. Just two letters apart. Rouhi and Youji.
I have to shake my head to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. The names are so close...and the apple never falls far from the tree. Youji's playboy nature doesn't help clear things up for me. Was his father a playboy too? What if Youji's turning into his father?
"You made it through the first one?" Manx asks as she pops her head in.
"Hn." Is all I can grunt out.
"Do you want the rest?" She offers, the tapes already in her hands.
"Don't you have transcripts of these?" I bite out, frustrated with the time I'm wasting.
She steps in and fiddles with the five cassettes in her hand. "I just thought they'd help more....with the...." She fumbles over the non-existent word for my so-called gift.
I look her in the eyes, noticing only worry and sincerity. She doesn't want to terminate Youji. None of us do. "Are you working on tracking him, on finding that woman?" I ask, needing to know that someone's doing something constructive while I'm strolling down fucking memory lane.
"Yes. Twenty of Kritiker's analysts are on it." She looks behind her at the closed door. "He wasn't wearing a tracking device."
"He hated them." I add, tracing the outline of the first cassette. "Omi and I always had to force him to wear one on missions." A vague smile graces my face as I remember the hassle Omi and I always went through every mission. That was how Youji operated.
She smiles back and lays the tapes on the desk. "If at any time you decide to discontinue....to stop going through the tapes, just come out. I'll be out there talking to the analysts." She informs me, then leaves.
I grab the tape marked two and pop it in.
-----------------------
||Social Services case number 30095: Kudou Youji.||
I can't suppress the sigh as I reach out to touch the tape player.
//I see the doctor sitting at their usual table, talking into his tape recorder.
"Youji is the first child I've encountered in my time as a psychologist who has endured so much trauma throughout life and HASN'T developed a disorder such as MPD or disassociative identity. Since these disorders are caused by the individual's particular coping mechanisms, I can only wonder what Youji's are."
"You're talking about me again, aren't you?" Youji's light voice cuts in before the door opens more than a crack. As he enters, I notice that he's sporting a new bandage on his face.
"What happened to your cheek?" The doctor asks, his interest having been piqued.
Youji flops down on the chair across from the doctor, obviously unhappy with this choice of conversation. "Some of the other kids at the orphanage."
The doctor rolls his eyes. "It's not--"
"I know, I know," Youji cuts him off, "It's not an orphanage, it's an adolescent homeless shelter." He rolls his green eyes. "Orphanage even sounds better."
"Would you like to go into foster care?" The doctor asks.
Again, Youji rolls his eyes. "If you'd actually check up on me once in a while, you'd know that they've tried to put me in foster homes."
The doctor has the decency to blush at Youji's comment.
"They send me back 'cause I don't get along with anyone...and they don't like my nightmares and flashbacks." He leans over and pouts against his crossed arms that rest on his legs. "Remember when you said love is a conscious choice?"
The doctor nods.
"Maybe it's not, you know? These people make the choice to love whatever child gets sent to their home, but they can't love me. They send me back. Maybe some people are just unlovable." Youji sighs against his ratty blue jeans.
The doctor just watches him, apparently speechless.
After a few seconds of silence between the two, the doctor grabs his briefcase and yanks some papers out. "Do you know what these are?" He asks, voice nearly cracking, shoving them at Youji.
Youji's green eyes calmly look at them, then widen slightly. "...Adoption papers?" He looks back up at the doctor, eyes wide and disbelieving. "But...why?"
"That'll make the fifth set." Doctor Hisumo grumbles pitifully, yanking more sets out of his briefcase. He slides them over to Youji, the giant red 'rejected' prominent on them.
".....why?" The tiny boy across from him squeaks out.
"I'm single. They want a family with a mother and a father for you." He sighs softly. "I guess that'd be best, you know."
"No...I don't know." Youji interjects. "All those 'preferred families' have rejected me," a small warm smile crosses his face, "but maybe a 'rejected family' prefers me."//
I'd watch more, finally finding out that my teammate actually found something akin to happiness, but the visions go haywire on me. One minute I'm smiling at Youji's happier childhood memories, the next I'm on the floor writhing as less pleasant memories flood my head.
//"Papa?" A slightly older and healthier looking Youji backs up from the scene before him where his real father and the blonde man are holding a bleeding Dr. Hisumo at knifepoint.
"Yes, Youji, now you're going to come with us or --"
"You shut the hell up and let go of my papa!" Youji screams, cutting Rouhi off.
Rouhi doesn't appreciate this comment. "I raised you, boy, not this scrap of a man!" He yells, the knife digging into Dr. Hisumo's neck.
"Run, Youji!" The doctor manages to garble out.
"How the hell'd you get out anyway, you bastard?" Youji demands as he slings off his backpack.
"S'called 'bail', kid." The blonde answers in a bored tone.
"Well, who the hell'd pay YOUR bail?" Youji demands, digging in his back pocket for something.
"My lawyer." He replies easily. "Look, Rouhi, what are we gonna do with the shrink?"
Rouhi sighs. "The kid seems to be kind of attached to him, so we're gonna use him to OUR advantage."//
The scene flickers a bit, but only gets more intense.
//"Are you going to come with us, Youji?" the boy's father asks again, growing bored with his son and the half-dead psychiatrist.
Youji wipes away tears as he looks at the blood-soaked form of his adoptive father. "...Yes."
"No!" Dr. Hisumo gurgles out, his body too damaged to do anything else.
Rouhi rolls his eyes. "Shut up, you child-stealing bastard." He grumbles as he plunges the knife into the wounded man's chest.
Youji watches the scene, tears streaming down his face, too traumatized to move.
The dark-haired man turns to the boy. "You see now, boy? Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."
Mindlessly, Youji nods.//
"Abyssinian?"
"Sir?"
"Are you alright?"
Voices cut through the blackness as the last vision fades and another one tries to begin. I must have been screaming or something loud enough to attract all this attention.
"No! Don't touch him!" Manx's voice orders them all. "You'll interrupt any visions he might get, any clues to finding Balinese."
Her voice gets drowned out as a vision takes place. I see Youji and a young woman -- his fiancee -- walking through the park, working on cases, visiting places, eating at nice restaurants -- all the happy things that people never really stop and think about, never really appreciate until they're gone. Then I see the woman throwing herself in front of Youji, taking bullets for her lover. She falls to the ground and Youji proceeds to get shot repeatedly. As he briefly studies his attackers, a look of recognition crosses his face before he falls as well, reaching out for his fiancee's hand.
The voice of Kudou Rouhi booms in the background, a memory from the last murder. //"Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."//
The scene changes to the mission where that prostitute, Maki, was killed.
Then I see him having to kill Neu, the new Asuka. I watch as he slowly falls apart, drinking himself into oblivion while none of Weiß even notices or cares.
Then I see something I'm really not familiar with, a Youji with short, chopped hair killing another woman while crying softly, whispering her name -- Michelle.
Then I see the same shorthaired Youji killing another woman, a rather insane-seeming one, muttering something about a Tsuji-sensei.
Again, the scene cuts away to a shot of the shorthaired Youji with three other men. He's yelling at them, asking them why they're so sure that they're in the right with their justice. He turns to one, a short boy with grey-ish hair and an outfit that reminds me strangely of a Nazi, and calls him by name. Omi. He turns to another, a boy with odd brown hair and fox-like brown eyes, and calls him Ken. Then he turns to a man with long burgundy hair, his own green eyes begging the man to understand, and calls him Aya.
I scream. No, this can't be Weiß, that can't be me! That man glaring at Youji without a shred of compassion cannot be me. I won't let it be me! I grab my head in pain and let out a loud, ear-piercing shriek.
//"Everyone you're around, everyone you love dies because of you."//
The visions don't stop. I see that shorthaired Youji in his room or apartment, whatever. He's got his head on his knees and he's talking to nothing.
//"God...why? Why is my life such a shithole?"//
As the words leave his lips, I see flashes from his past. His mother being beaten....
//"Why...why is it that no one understands?"//
His mother being raped by Richard in their shitty hole-in-the-wall...
//"Why doesn't anyone care?!"//
Him being raped by both Rouhi and Richard...
//"Why can't I just die?!"//
His mother being killed by Rouhi...
//"Why can't I die?!"//
Dr. Hisumo being tortured and finally killed at the hands of Rouhi...
//"Goddamnit!" The wire in his hands wraps around his wrist.//
Asuka dying before his eyes...
//"Cut...deeper, damn you!"//
Maki being killed...
//The scene itself changes to the new Weiß on a mission, Youji being the decoy. "God...it's always me...the expendable one..."//
Asuka as Neu coming back with Schreint and trying to kill us...
//"The feckless playboy...that no one needs." Youji runs out to draw fire away from the rest of us.//
Youji having to kill his former fiancee...
//Bullets fly by his head, the strange cowboy hat still in place. "...that no one wants..."//
Youji fighting Rouhi and Richard as I storm in...
//"...that no one cares about."//
Youji looking up at me as I cradle his dying body in my arms, telling me that he didn't mean for any of this to happen, that he was afraid to tell us about his past, that he was sorry for existing...
//Youji looks up from his decoy duty to see the burgundy-haired version of me fighting some guy with my familiar katana. "Who's no leader..."//
Youji in the hospital, recovering from his wounds...
//"No teammate..."//
Youji having to get close to that Michelle-woman and then having to kill her...
//"No brother..."//
Youji having to kill the insane teacher...
//"No friend..."//
The new version of Weiß completely rejecting Youji, pushing him aside and negating his problems.
//He darts out as a laser sight targets on my back, knocking me out of the way, and taking the bullet for me.//
I can't help but to lose consciousness.
------------------------
I come to with a groan before scanning the area I'm in. Apparently they found a cot, put me on it, and left me in the same room with the tape player. This is happening far too often for my tastes. With a sigh, I think back to everything I saw while the tape was playing. So that's it, huh? Youji's the fated martyr of Weiß and that's all there is to it? Fate cannot be that cruel! We all have happy memories, every one of us, even those with the shittiest lives. But Youji...any pleasant memories he has are violently overshadowed by the tragic events of his past.
A knock at the door interrupts my rage. "Abyssinian?" Manx asks as the door creaks open.
I answer with an unhappy 'hn'.
"Did you find anything?" She asks, fidgeting with the hem of her business skirt.
Unbidden, a scowl forms on my face and the glare I'd been giving her intensifies to the point where she actually backs away. "You want to know what I found?" I growl out, my face contorting into some inhuman monster's. "Youji's going to die no matter what we do. Whether we save him now or not, he'll die."
Manx winces, then manages to muster up enough courage to look back up at me. "Aya," she starts, using my chosen first name for once, "of course he'll die; everyone does. It's a part of life that everyone must accept. What matters is if he dies surrounded by the people that he loves or if he dies in agony, surrounded by people that seek to do him harm."
I have to fight back the urge to sigh. "That's not what I'm talking about." I snap at her, angry with this entire situation. "No matter what we do, he'll die an agonizing death, either surrounded by enemies or giving his life for people that don't seem to notice him." The pointed glare that I give her leaves her knowing exactly who I mean.
She looks downward, also distressed by the predicament that we've found ourselves in.
"I hope Kritiker will be happy." I spit out, bitter and inconsolable. "You found your perfect martyr."
Her eyes meet mine as she gives me a look that's supposed to remind me of just who I'm speaking with.
"Tell me...will his death atone for your sins? Will his sacrifice miraculously make everything better?" I'm cut off by the slap of her hand against my face and the visions that follow.
I see us all at the memorial service Kritiker will hold for Youji. We're all normal again, Omi with his blonde hair and blue eyes, Ken with his clueless expression, and me with my bright red hair and eartails. Manx and Birman are stoic while Omi's loud sobs resonate around them. Then I see Manx as she opens the door to what I assume to be her apartment. She stumbles in, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her keys miss the table that she meant to drop them on, but this goes unnoticed. Instead, she lets out a piercing wail and grabs her hair, ripping at it before running headlong into a bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed and sobbing uncontrollably.
"Abyssinian?" She inquires sharply, still irked by my comment.
I look up at her, forcing myself to remain calm and remember that as much as she'd have us believe otherwise, she is indeed human. "Did your analysts find anything?" I ask, my voice even and emotionless.
"No." She replies, apparently forgiving me enough for her to sit down on the nearby chair.
I stand up, forgoing my orders to stay here. "Then I'm going to look for him myself." I announce as I grab my katana that's propped up near the desk.
She doesn't stop me this time.
===================
A/N: Okay, this was written nearly a year ago. (Wow...it's been that long!) Stupid college.
Sorry about the Glühen parts. I've never seen the series, so I'm not sure the information's correct. I tried to read a bunch of summaries, but oh well. If something's inaccurate, just let me know (preferably by email) and I'll fix it.
Also, sorry about all the psychology crap. *shrugs*