damned_institute | Day 29: Courtyard

Hiei easily grew sick of the same walls--not to mention the same idiots always within those walls--and while not perfect, the chance to go outside was better than lingering in the boundaries of that damned prison. So when the chance came, the demon was quick to leap on it, heading outside almost quick enough to make a nurse wonder if he was attempting escape.

Almost.

But there were things Hiei had to take care of before he left this place, and first came sorting through his thoughts. Kurama was gone; the demon was sure of it, even without the use of his Jagan. The fox was one of the people Hiei was closest to, one of the few Hiei would admit being close to, and his presence weighed heavily on the demon, nearly as heavy as his absence.

It made him angry, that Kurama had vanished. Be it by escape or some other circumstance (which Hiei barely considered possible, only by his own refusal), the fox should be there with him, fighting with him. That was how they worked, supposedly. As a team.

Now Hiei would have to do without. And he would be fine with that, eventually. For now it was annoying, but that would pass. Perhaps quicker with a nap, and the demon moved under one of the trees. He didn't care that it was colder in the shade; his contrasting origins mixed with his stubbornness kept the weather from bothering him too much. Closing his eyes, he relaxed against the bark, as much as he could given the circumstances, and hoped for a lack of bothering.

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"No..." Kikyo said a little sadly. It did not matter that it was all in the past, when he could feel it so acutely in his veins, still. Every whisper, every touch...every betrayal. All of the memories that could not be undone. He brought them with him, past death's door, clutched close to his heart.

He had believed that it didn't matter to Ran anymore. That the young man had cast aside their shared past, for the diseased thing it had become.

But last night, in the bus, he had come for him. Could it be that there were some things that Ran couldn't let go, even after all they had been through?

"...not to me."

He dropped his head with a sigh. Why didn't anyone ever seem to understand that memories weren't things to throw away just because they were 'past'? He'd thought Aya had understood. Kikyo seemed to, but...

"Aya-kun's always lived more in the past than the present, anyway." That was true enough. Then again, they all had. Ken clinging to his soccer, Yohji to the girls that wouldn't remind him of Asuka, Aya with his sister and something driving him that even Omi hadn't ever quite been able to pinpoint. And Omi himself...

Well, he hadn't had a past. Maybe he still didn't. But that just made him all the more determined not to let anyone throw theirs away.

What Omi spoke was partially right. Ran lived for his past, his murdered parents and his comatose sister. But at the same time, he would throw away all that was once 'Ran' to do so. He was going to bury his past, his innocence, and even his love, all in the name of revenge. Kikyo couldn't allow it. He already knew what waited for him down that path.

He furrowed his brow, sliding his fingers to the tree trunk, the bark feeling brittle under his touch.

"Perhaps so," he answered noncommittally. "Though I have yet to see how much."

He watched Kikyo from the corner of his eye, wondering just how far back 'old acquaintances' went. Well, really, he was wondering a lot of things, only a few of them to do with Aya. None of them, however, did he dare ask at this point in time.

Which meant there went his distraction. And it had been working so nicely, too.

Instead, he kept silent, shoving down his curiosity until he could talk to Aya again. Kikyo had been right about that much, he really should just ask Aya about all of this. Even if he got the 'safe' answer, it would tell him more than anything Kikyo could.

They fell into a momentary silence, with the soft rustle of the leaves above the only sound to keep them company.

Memories could be comfort, as that young man Valyn had said. But to Kikyo, they were something else as well. They were at the heart of his deepest obsession, binding him always to the one thing that could consume him completely.

"Why do you think..." he murmured softly, turning his gaze back to Omi. "...that he lies to protect you?"

"They all do." That came out a bit more bitter than he probably should have let it, but he'd been losing himself in his thoughts by the time Kikyo spoke and the answer was out before he quite realized. Aya would yell at him for being ten kinds of idiot if he ever found out about that.

He started to hunch his shoulders before his back protested rather loudly that that was certainly not happening. It wasn't his fault he was young and looked even younger. Nor was it his fault that Yohji and Ken and Aya (and, really, a large percentage of the rest of Kritiker when he thought about it) tended to forget the he'd been killing longer than any of them and only paid attention to his apparent age. It made them do stupid things like jump in front of Siberian's claws to protect him.

He sighed, going with the less revealing yet equally true answer. "I don't know why."

Kikyo arched his brow at Omi's reply. All. Kikyo knew nothing of Ran's life as 'Aya,' and certainly he would never hear it directly from him. But he did know one thing... he had ascended the ranks, just as he had wanted to. Kikyo had taunted him about it when Aya had come for him that rainy winter's day. In the clash of blade upon blade, he could feel how much the youth had changed.

But his dying eyes had not deceived him. Ran was still in there behind that cold facade, even after he'd run his sword through him. He said he had no more compassion, but that was not true. And even now, the boy wanted to protect his 'teammates' from the one person who had betrayed him most cruelly.

With a steady gaze, Kikyo studied the features of Omi's face. If this young man was one of Ran's team - a killer - then there was someone out there even crueler than himself. For who would do such a thing to a child?

"Don't you?" he said with a pale smile. Young people were always so eager to grow up. Some grew up faster than they should. "It is because they love you."

Your family doesn't love you.

He bit his lip, taking a shaky breath and banishing all such thoughts from his mind. It took more effort than he would have liked. If he was Omi...

No.

He closed his eyes, trying to find a center of calm, and when he opened them again, it was more Bombay than Omi that glanced back at Kikyo, that unnatural calm and confidence in his own skills that no teenager should really be able to claim. "They should know better by now."

It was probably even odds whether he was talking about them protecting him or loving him. Because Kritiker would and had done such a thing to a child. Not that Omi would ever blame them for it. It was just who he was. He just sometimes wondered why the others couldn't see that.

Day 29: Courtyard

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