Permanence

wow. this has to be a record. i've never written a piece and posted it in such a short duration of time. must be because i've been spending the time writing it when i should have been doing my homework... mattaku. so anyway, i hope you like the result of my ADD complex.

disclaimer: kekkaishi doesn't belong to me. don't make any money from writing this and whatnot, i'm just a poor college student (at the rate i'm going, i probably will be for the next five years.).

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

~.::Twenty minutes earlier…::.~

‘Where?’

Scenery flashed by at an alarming pace.

‘Where?’

Cool night air whipped through dark clothes embroidered with a five-point star.

‘Where? Where are you, Sumimura?’

~.::Elsewhere…­::.~

“…”

"…!"

"­I wonder what your little friends would say if they say you right now. Especially that other young man…"

"…­Stop it…"

"He harbors…­feelings for you. I can smell it."

"Stop…"

"He loves you."

~.::.~

Gen stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around as a familiar strain of voice reached his receptive ears. However, it was now raised in agony, keening piercingly with a note of despair mingling within it.

He gritted his teeth in a harsh snarl. "Dammit…"

The young half-ayakashi turned on his heel, intent on the direction of Yoshimori's cries.

~.::.~

"I bet you enjoyed that, Yoshimori-kun. I know I did."

Kaguro suddenly turned his head, an expectant grin splitting his face.

'So he found us. Not bad for a blood-mutt.’ He returned his blood-tinted gaze to the boy sprawled on the ground.

"I suppose I'll leave my mark for…­any others to see. Don't want you to forget this day…”

~.::.~

Gen placed a hand on the barrier he couldn't see or even detect. He bitterly rubbed at his smarting nose with his other hand, thoroughly miffed that he had blundered straight into the obstacle.

But the thing that rankled him the most was the faintest lingering trace of "no-smell”. He had smelled it, or rather, not smelled it, twice before.

It was the undoubtedly esoteric track of that man. Just the thought of that bastard was enough to raise his hackles.

'No…­focus. Gotta get Sumimura back.' He shook his head and gave himself a mental kick. This had to be some sort of kekkai. With any luck…

Gen gathered his energy into his right hand, transforming it into the formidable black claw, then drew it back, his resolve to save his comrade increasing the destructive power tenfold.

Four dark rips appeared in the air, hanging in space before him. He barely had time to register his surprise just before his nose was assailed with the overpowering scent of blood and sex.

Gen boldly stepped through and let his eyes adjust to the darkness, then swiftly followed the sound of shallow ragged breathing, the dread growing in his chest with each pace closer.

The young man stopped short, spotting a pitiful heap on the ground, then, throwing all caution to the winds, he was at Yoshimori's side in a flash.

"Sumimura!" He grabbed his arm and shook it, hoping for any form of response.

"Oi! Sumimura!" Dulled, half-lidded eyes flickered, and the bruised lips moved inaudibly.

Gen felt his patience begin to wane, anger bubbling forth as he took in the sight of Yoshimori's broken body.

A crescent of broken flesh and blood marred the kekkaishi's left shoulder, his abdomen spattered with his own semen, hips developing purpling bruises, and to Gen's dismay and fury, a mark on the inside of the violated boy's thigh.

刀. Katana.

"Who did this?" He shuddered, his voice cracking bitterly. "Was it…­him?"

Yoshimori merely turned his face away, a gusty heave of his chest his only answer.

Gen broke, his suspicions confirmed.

"That…­bastard!"

Black encroached upon Gen's limbs as his heart was filled with the same burning darkness.

"I won't forgive him!"

Teeth sharpened into ripping fangs as his eyes took on an unprevailed wildness.

"I'll kill him! I'm gonna—"

A soft touch on his arm made him stop, snapping him back as efficiently as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

"Shishio…"

That voice calling his name had an instantly calming effect. He had experienced it twice before with two different people. The first time had been when his sister had cornered him after he had had a sobbing fit and wouldn't let anyone come near him, afraid of his tears and the way others would think of them.

"Gen-gen." That had been her name for him as a small child and he could remember his tears immediately stopping as Ryou came forward to dry them, smiling gently.

"Gen…" A charismatic voice chiding him sternly as his rage subsided. Masamori had stared down at him with those inescapable eyes after he had pulled him apart from another Yagyou boy who had insulted Gen about his family.

Cowed, he had stubbornly swiped at his bloody lip until the eldest Sumimura son had smiled and told him it was simply the right attitude at the wrong time. He had then tousled his hair and told him to clean up.

Now…­it seemed to be the same thing, the same feeling, but it was so different.

"Shishio­… I…" And then Yoshimori let the floodgates open.

Gen looked on, shocked, as this boy whom he had thought to be so idiotic and simple, and yet so strong-willed, began to cry, an arm thrown over his face and his body rippling with the force of his sobs.

The half-ayakashi balked.

He had always been the one to be comforted, and had no idea how to stem the flow, so he did the only thing he knew to do. It completely violated his personal code of self-conduct and his policy of not letting others get physically close to him, but…

He gathered the weeping boy into his arms, ignoring the blood, the mess, and shushed him soothingly as Ryou had done to him on numerous occasions.

He could feel Yoshimori drawing strength from him enough to form a coherent sentence and whispered into Gen's shoulder, "Please…­please don't tell anyone. Especially not aniki. Okay?"

"…­Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"'Kay."

Gen loosened his hold enough to allow Yoshimori to pull away, but not so much so to instigate that he himself wanted to let go. Yoshimori drew back slightly, sniffled and suddenly released an abrupt, almost mirthless snort of laughter, wiping his face on the sleeve of his torn jinbei and stated matter-of-factly, "I'm naked."

Gen blushed, averting his face. "I noticed."

He stood and discreetly looked away as his companion reached for his discarded hakama and slowly redressed himself.

"Can you stand?"

"I—I think so." Gen offered his hand before he could stop himself and didn't even have time to think to withdraw it when Yoshimori reached up and grasped it.

Gen felt something like a pleasant shock of electricity travel up through his fingertips, coursing through his nerves and setting his heart racing.

"Shishio? Aren't you gonna help me up?"

Gen jerked, startled and mortified.

"…­Sorry."

He pulled and Yoshimori stood with a little difficulty, tottering unsteadily before he found his feet.

Gen spoke, anxious to leave and get someplace where Yoshimori could be treated.

"Right. We should get out of h—" He stopped short and glanced down.

"Sumimura."

"Hm?"

"Gimme my hand back."

The kekkaishi stared at their joined hands and remarked simply, "Your hand is warm."

Gen blinked, amazed at how quickly the boy had relapsed into his old self.

"And yours is cold. Let's go."

Yet Yoshimori refused to move.

"Um, Shishio?"

"What?"

The shorter boy bowed his head, bangs veiling his eyes, and quietly murmured, "I…­don't want to go home yet. You live by yourself, don't you?"

Unease wormed its way into Gen's gut.

"…­Yeah?"

The grip on Gen's hand tightened to the point of being just shy of painful and his brows knitted in concern.

"Do you think I­…could stay with you? Just for the rest of the night? Please, you can call aniki and tell him where I am, but please…!"

Desperation and fear had crept into Yoshimori's voice and tears were now starting to gather again in his wide brown eyes. "I don't want anyone seeing me the way I am…­right…­now…"

He trailed off, eyes flicking to the side unsurely.

Gen gazed at Yoshimori apprehensively for a while longer, then released a heavy sigh of resignation. "Fine. It's pretty small, but I'll let you stay. Just for the night."

He could visibly see the tension ease out of Yoshimori's shoulders as he finally released his hand, only to lean closer and rest his forehead on Gen's shoulder.

"—you."

Gen barely caught it, it had been spoken so softly, like a whisper on the wind, but just as sure as Yoshimori was there, and breathing, and so very warm on his skin, it had been said.

He wound his arms around his friend's middle and laid his cheek in his hair.

"Yeah. You're welcome."

~~/~~/~~/~~/~~/~~/~~/~~/~~/~~

Gen awoke to soft whimpers and the sounds of sporadic thrashing. Sitting up in the half light of early dawn, he looked over at Yoshimori in his futon next to him.

He had kicked the covers off and was now tossing and turning, his face agitated. As Gen watched, the kekkaishi threw an arm in front of himself, as if to ward off an attack.

"No…­stop…­ Please…"

His tone was pleading, his features pained.

Gen couldn't take it anymore. He threw the makeshift blanket filched from the kotatsu off his lap and crawled over to Yoshimori, intent on waking him, but before he could touch him, Yoshimori's eyes flew open.

He skidded backward, his expression wild, right hand forming a sign.

"Ketsu!"

Gen suddenly found himself surrounded by a ridiculously large kekkai that encompassed half his small apartment, but was only about three feet high. Needless to say, he was glad that he was on his hands and knees at the time.

He blinked slowly at the boy who had his back against the far wall and had a look like a deer trapped in an oncoming truck's headlights, staring straight ahead. Sweat had soaked the light flannel night shirt on loan from Gen and his chest heaved with broken gasps of air.

Gen wasn't worried about his current predicament; it would take more than one metsu to do him any harm, but he was concerned about his schoolmate. In any case, he decided to just let him calm down on his own before he provoked him into doing anything stupid.

'Like blowing apart the entire apartment complex,' he thought wryly.

Yoshimori took a shuddering gulp and spoke, his voice sounding small in the dim quiet.

"Where am I?"

"My place, remember?"

Auburn eyes widened as his mind raced, recollecting scattered and fragmented memories.

The kekkai wavered and dissolved as Yoshimori buried his face in his hands, uncontrollable tremors gripping his frame under the weight of final, utter realization.

'This is bad,' Gen observed. 'He's going into shock.'

He inched forward cautiously, his hand held out as if he was approaching a cornered animal.

"Sumimura…"

The distressed boy shook his head, his hands gripping his hair.

"Nnn…­ Make it stop…­ I don't want—"

"I know. I know…­Yoshimori. I understand. Just breathe."

He gently pulled Yoshimori forward so that his ear was pressed against his chest, listening to the steady cadence of his heart as he calmed down, his breathing eventually matching the slow beat.

"Shishio…"

"Mm?"

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget."

Gen resentfully bit his lip, distantly staring out his patio doors at the soft early morning light. "I see."

He felt Yoshimori's hands twist into the back of his shirt and then, "But I also know I don't want to forget…this. With you…­Gen."

Gen unconsciously tightened his hold on him, determination blazing in his heart. Four years ago, he had hurt the person who mattered the most to him; now…

The most important thing…­

The one he'd give his life to protect…was…

"Yoshimori."

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this chapter is such a wonderful foreshadowing... i could hit myself. oh yeah, "gen-gen" is something i totally made up. please look forward to the next installment, and thank you for your patience!
oekaki special! http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a281/776fox/yaoi/touch.jpg