Visual Kei

There are very few things in this world that leave me speechless, but seeing Kiiro after a year full of dreaming, moping, and self-pity was one of those things. I tore the door open so fast that the lock bent and gave, bringing the latch with it as it flew back into the far wall. Rei stepped back in time for both lock and door (as well as its hinges) to fly past his shoulder, slamming into the wall of the passage we’d just come through. I barely caught his half-whispered SUGE~! of surprise and wonder on my way to investigate the chamber that we believed to harbor Kiiro.

“Someone’s a little eager, wouldn’t you say?” Shinji said with a chuckle. He took a look at the door, impressed, before breaking into Never Gonna Give You Up. Yeah, my emotional time was seasoned with Shinji’s Rick Astley impression, which was actually pretty funny. The heavy Japanese accent really did the song justice.

Still, I hoped I wasn’t getting Rick-Rolled right now. Hearing the song made me want to laugh and hurry even more. It was probably a trick, but I had to know.

It couldn’t be real. It had to be a ploy. I would never see Kiiro again. I was almost certain of that. Yet he stood in front of me, his muscular arms folded stubbornly over his chest as his harsh gaze glided from the wall to me. He was expressionless save for the annoyed glare he had been giving to the wall, but that was gone now. For a fleeting moment, we shared true amazement and pleasure at seeing one another again, but it was gone soon enough. Our faces settled into blankness with an awkward finality, but I shared the frantic tug of joy that he had felt upon my arrival. That sensation did not escape me, and it pleased me to finally be able to see through his annoying mask of indifference.

Everything was the same as I’d left it, I realized with a wave of relief. He still had the same inhumanly indifferent eyes, the same defined cheekbones and wide, flat nose connected to skinny drawn-on, cruel eyebrows by a smooth bridge that stood confidently on his alluring face. Why had I expected his face to change? The only feature to mark our time apart was a long scar, jagged and rough-looking, across his cheek starting from his temple and looping down to connect like a crescent moon to his defined cheek bone.

The first sensation I got from him other than blatant surprise was numb shock at what I was wearing. Rei had picked out my outfit carefully, almost lovingly, I think. Each article drew the eyes to my best features—my waist and ass. If it weren’t for the group of hookers slipping into the base, Rei would never have had a reason to hand over the super-skank costume he’d been saving for Halloween. And if I had my choice, I’d walk around in shorts and a man shirt every day, but hey, sometimes life throws you some curveballs. This outfit, though, was surprisingly similar to the clothing (if you could call it that) I’d worn back when I worked for Gackt. H had said before that that disguise looked like ‘a porno librarian’. Whether that was the real H or some guy pulling the strings from elsewhere, I still had no idea, and in a way, I hoped it was him. He needed badly to get laid. Kiiro’s eyes wandered my form, but they snapped back up to my face soon enough, as if to say I’ll comment on that later.

“Alice,” he said flatly. I nodded. He shared a look with the guys that seemed accusatory. Shinji held up his hands in defeat, but offered a big, impish smile. Kiiro’s eyes locked on mine knowingly, the silver of his irises displaying a comfortable, familiar distance. I realized, annoyed with myself, that I missed even his passive expression. It was pathetic.

For a moment, we stood in front of one another, staring into each other’s eyes. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to stay that way for a long time, just staring and feeling that leap in my heart, but he stopped the romantic moment almost as soon as it started. He was really too good at that and this wasn’t exactly time for a replay of The Notebook or 50 First Dates. I sensed him aching with what he believed was my betrayal. My heart ached, too, with guilt. How could he know what had happened only weeks ago, how could he know about my one mistake? Maybe he didn’t and it was just my guilt interpreting his usual demeanor as such… either way, I was actually grateful that he broke our gaze to follow Rei out the corridor through which we came. For now, we could ignore the soap opera crap.

Rei led us out and away from Kiiro’s cell, with Kiiro at his side. He walked and looked like an animal that had just come from its cage—his eyes and body language was fluid and predatory, and I could feel his bloodlust frothing violently beneath the apathetic mask. Had he fed recently? How long had he been detained? His eyes said that the time without feeding had taken a toll on him, and now that I had the time to notice, his skin looked even more pallid than before. He could have been mistaken for an albino. It looked translucent, his bluish veins crossing patterns over his muscled arms and curling up his throat like alien tentacles digging into his skull. As he passed the metal door that I had thrown into the wall in my excitement, his eyebrow raised and I felt what seemed like pride from him. He stifled a grin that I knew existed even though he was turned away from me.

Both Rei and Kiiro walked in a seemingly-effortless synchronized gait, sharing little more than curt nods and signals to signify their desires or observations in a way that seemed very intimate and familiar. Had they always been that close? Now and then, Kiiro would glance back, although I could hardly tell if it was to be sure we weren’t being pursued or if he was making sure that Shinji and I were still following him.

As we slunk through one of the hallways we’d come through, one of the doors swept open and an arm snaked around the corner. I was suddenly staring into the barrel of a handgun. As if in slow motion, I watched the finger tense on the trigger, clicking as the chamber slid into place to fire the bullet. Several things happened very quickly, then. Kiiro yelled something. My eyes went wide. The gunshot resounded twice. As Rei fell to the ground, his joins popped and locked, shifting and popping again, dislocating and relocating all over again in a sickening loop as if he lost control of his power in his surprise and pain. I looked down and saw the shock in his eyes as his hand, shifting into a bird’s claw, closed over the outside of his arm. His hand was his own again, although a thin membrane of scales covered its back, and blood oozed over his fingers. I felt a stinging pain in my side and looked down to see that I, too, was bleeding. Blood from Rei’s arm had spattered his sweatshirt and my sheer top underneath. Shinji tugged me down and into one of the rooms we’d passed. I tumbled in gracelessly and tugged the zipper on the sweatshirt down, staring down at the small, deep tract in my waist where the second bullet grazed my body. I was too surprised to be hurt. Kiiro ducked inside with Rei in his arms. Kiiro was splattered with a light spray of blood, too. His eyes bored down into my wound, but he said nothing and instead, ripped his shirt into strips to stop Rei’s bleeding. His hands moved quickly and efficiently.

Before he was finished, the shooter stepped into the doorway. It was Seheon. I stared up at him, unable to grasp for words. He stared down at me, too, his eyes filled with an emptiness that I’d never seen before. Raising the gun, he rested the end on Kiiro’s skull, pressing it into his hair. Although it had happened quicker than before, I felt a desperate bunch of emotions claw at me, surfacing before any logical thought did. I clutched the gun and wrenched it toward me as Seheon’s finger pulled the trigger. It seemed like minutes, rather than seconds, before the bullet went through my thigh. Kiiro’s eyes went wide with horror, his hand cutting through air a moment too late to divert its path. It surprised me, too, that I had taken the bullet, but I took advantage of Seheon’s astonishment to wrest the gun from his grip, shattering his kneecap with a kick from my good leg. He kneeled against the doorframe a ways back, clutching at the wound, although his face was still empty. I held the gun poised in the air for a moment and considered ending his life. His brown eyes, no longer devoid of human feeling, stared up at me. For a moment, he was H again. I faltered. Then he smiled and suddenly disappeared.

I slumped back against the cold metal wall, staring at the blood—my blood— that blossomed across Rei’s sweatshirt. I tensed my leg muscles to test out the pain and gritted my teeth at the sudden, harsh twinge. Kiiro’s eyes were on me as he tore what remained of his shirt into strips. His cold hands lifted my leg up quickly but gently, wrapping two strips around my thigh. I knew he could see my underwear, but I was too distressed to care. He didn’t seem particularly focused on that, either. He moved my cloth away from the wound at my waist, his fingers brushing my skin like a moth’s wing. I shivered and struggled not to be overcome with the slow-coming pain. He wrapped the longest strips around my waist and tied the ends. Before I could thank him, he pulled me up and carried me in his arms. I wasn’t complaining. He nodded once to Rei and they continued on, more cautious of every little sound.

We backtracked twice when we heard footsteps or voices from rooms in the corridors. Eventually, we made it back to the freezing warehouse. There, I came face-to-face with bullshit.

By the time we reached the wide-open depot, I could hardly focus on my surroundings. I was bleeding, tired, sweaty, and emotionally-drained. The only comfort was the slight jostling of Kiiro’s stride, which hurt my wounds but was still soothing (if only because I was pressed against his body). I felt the atmosphere change and I struggled to turn my head to see what it was that so bothered Kiiro and the others.

Standing in the middle, between several stacks of crates, was Ray. His platinum blond hair was teased and spiked in Visual Kei style, with the long layers board-straight. It actually looked like a bastardization of Tsurara’s hairstyle, except on a white guy. Ray’s icy blue eyes narrowed as he glared at Kiiro. His fists clenched together tightly at his sides as he began to near us. He ignored me altogether. Even at his distance, I could feel the maelstrom of his hatred, rage, and jealousy.

Then again, it was hard to feel sorry for him when I had my own storm of frustration, pain, and fatigue. And part of it was just plain bitchiness.

“What company you travel with, Alice!” Ray said, shaking his head. “A soul-eating fiend and a re-animated corpse.”

“Soul-eating fiend? You must be mistaken; your mother isn’t here today,” I replied, gritting my teeth as I fought the pain back. Kiiro’s lips curled up a little at the edge, and he handed me off to Shinji and Rei. They supported me between them and I tried to keep my balance on my good leg.

“You don’t know, do you? How rich.” Ray laughed, tossing his head back in delight. It was cut short as he gestured to Kiiro, but addressed Shinji. “I’ll have my fun with you once I finish with this filth.” I looked at Shinji’s face. It was still round and full, with plump, childlike features, but it was no longer sweet. His eyes glared at Ray with such hatred that I wanted to shrink back and hide. It was as if his happy disposition had dried up all at once, evaporating and being held in a tight, thick cloud—his eyes.

“Out of the way or I will carve a path through you,” Kiiro growled, his eyes narrowing in response to Ray’s hostility.

“I should like to see that,” Ray retorted coolly, drawing both long-barreled pistols from the holsters at his hip. He did nothing special with them, but one would know just by his posture that he was familiar with them.

Kiiro smiled at the display. I sensed that he took Ray’s pistols about as seriously as a set of Nerf guns. “Your wish will come true soon enough.”

“If you get back in your cage like a good pet, I may be merciful.”

“Hey now,” Rei protested, looking almost offended. “Cool off, there, hakujin. We’re all buddies here, right?” Ray completely ignored him.

“Ray,” I said in warning. He believed he was a hero, or at least dramatic, but what he didn’t fully realize was The Oni was trying to keep the two worlds separate for a reason—the supernatural were much more powerful than mortals. And Kiiro was a cruel enemy. He did not have the compassion or the patience to leave Ray in one piece, much less alive, after suffering such insolence. If it stood in the way of his freedom, Kiiro would rend through it without hesitation.

His patience now was thin, but it still was there. It was there because he knew—about Ray and me.

“Stay away from the parasitic bastard and his demonic cohorts, Alice.”

I shook my head, a cold melancholy running through me. I was sorry that I had let Ray get this close to me. I was sorry that I ever got involved with The Oni or Kami or any of them. I was sorry that I could not have been better. But right now, I was most sorry that I couldn’t feel real sorrow, only a detached, second-rate low for this mortal who believed he was something more than what reality could ever allow him be. He wanted to be something he could never achieve, and I had indirectly planted that idea in his head, watering it with a hollow echo of the love I felt for Kiiro—another man… the first man. To look at Ray was to look at something I’d created. It pained me, but now was the time— I’d have to face my poor choices and ‘fess up.

“No, Ray. It is you who should stay away. Your actions have led us all to this point. What you feel now… you only have yourself to blame for those feelings.”

“You… would turn your back on me?” he asked, his face blank with disbelief. His voice sounded like the calm before hysteria. The pistols shook in his hands, trembling as mine had on my first mission, the induction to the company. “After we… after I saved you?”

Rei shook his head. “You aren’t the only one Alice owes her life to, you know.” For now, I would ignore that statement.

Memories flashed in my mind, then. I saw the aristocratic vampire, who had said I would have been such a beautiful vampire. I saw Ray fill his skull with bullets, to save me, his snide comments to Seheon, if only to make me laugh when I felt miserable, I even saw the confrontation with his mother, the soul-eating daemoness, and the moment of disturbing peace after the confrontation, when he kissed me for the first time. The images filled my head and made me sick. I might have willed them away, if I could. His blue eyes looked had never looked so vacant and hollow as they looked now. Yes, Ray did love me. And yes, I was selfish, and could not love him back. I looked at Kiiro, then, trying to deny the sensation of Ray’s own emotion. It twisted around my insouciance, threatening to tear it from its moorings and replace it with his. Before this, I had never felt such a powerful feeling from anyone before, even in the brief reunion with Kiiro. Images of the past, of all the times Ray had saved me from myself, from others, and from my emotion, swam in my eyes like a blurred, double vision as I looked at the man I loved.

Kiiro’s face was flat save for a triumphant smile.

Ray, who loved me, had also hurt me. I slowly began to close off the flooding memories. He had helped to capture and detain Kiiro, while under the pretense of helping find him. He had forced me apart from the guys because he was selfish. Yes, he did believe it was best, that they were a danger, but he brought them to harm without cause other than that they were preternatural. Forcing closed the connection between Ray and myself put physical stress on me. It was a strange sort of pressure that seemed to weigh me down. I wanted to crumple to my knees on the concrete, but when I looked up and saw him standing easily, the guns still shaking in his hands, I willed myself to remain standing even if it compounded with my injuries to harm me further.

“You didn’t save me, Ray,” I managed softly, driving back the torrent of memories only by sheer willpower. “Everything you did may have been for me, but in the end, it never benefitted me. It has only hurt me and those I love. Your actions have caused enough damage.” I couldn’t even look at him, at those innocent, probing blue eyes. I hated them, then. “Go, Ray.”

“Alice, I—“

“Just go!”

He set his jaw at my demanding tone, his eyes meeting Kiiro’s. Though I couldn’t read minds, I could read intentions, and he would not leave until one of them was dead. “I’m sorry, Alice. You will not understand, but I must save you from yourself and this weighty compassion you carry. Your vampire is a danger that must be eliminated.”

“I don’t need to be saved!” I screamed. “I don’t need a knight in fucking shining armor!” I was ready to pounce on him myself, to punch his face with my little, somehow still-childlike hands until it was (or they were) bruised or swollen or both, but the two men stepped toward each other, stopping me. Regardless of my wounds, heedless to the damage I could do to myself further, I wanted to beat Ray myself. To understand their stupid, male reasoning was one thing, but to accept it was another. Still, Ray was doing a good job keeping me occupied with his mental barrage of sickening memories. I wished now more than ever that I could just forget. Amnesia for one, please.

“This is not your fight, as much as you may hate me now,” Ray said, his voice tinged with bitterness and filled with a horrible, heartbreaking sorrow. “Your intervention only sped up the process that was already beginning. “ He flipped a handful of his long, bright blond hair back over his shoulder. “See who is superior.” Kiiro’s upper lip curled up in the corner, revealing his flashing white teeth in a beautiful, cruel grin.

If Ray somehow won, I would beat him to death, myself, I decided.