Katou (katoustheshit) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-07-20 10:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, yue katou |
Who: Yue Katou (and Nana the dog)
What: Katou's dreams start a turn for the worst.
When: This morning.
Where: Home
Warnings: Dream violence, someone who's not Katou dies for once, talk of addiction, angst.
Status: Complete | Narrative
When Kira, Setsuna, and Katou had returned to Gehenna from Heaven, they had all been in fairly high spirits. They may not have made it in time to rescue the man they were supposed to, but they had gotten some fairly important information, had repaired Setsuna’s relationship with the rebel angels, and had struck a heavy blow against Heaven’s army.
They had been looking forward to seeing the princess, Kurai again, and relaxing for a little bit. Perhaps celebrating the small victory the three of them had just managed, though once they came back to the palace, it was eerily empty.
Katou wasn’t sure exactly when Kira’s chest started bleeding – he hadn’t remembered the other boy getting any wounds – but he didn’t notice it until Setsuna had taken off in a panic. It wasn’t right though. Kira was the immortal reincarnation of some fucking demon sword, and all his wounds were supposed to close up nearly instantly. He was going on about someone being there, but Katou had no idea what he was talking about, and then Kira had punched him.
It wasn’t like the punches the two of them had exchanged before. Their punches always hurt, but they weren’t supposed to cause injuries. But this time, when Kira’s fist connected with his stomach, Katou could barely breathe, and he was sure he heard a couple of ribs crack. It was all he could do to focus on Kira’s words to him: “You were always such an idiot. Always so much trouble. You couldn't ever keep a time or a promise, the worst kind of guy. It was just that you always had that desperate look in your eyes. So pathetic… so loser like. Yet I could never let those desperate eyes go.”
And he lowed Katou to the ground, with a “But playing as a human stops here, as much as I enjoyed it.” He had left his sword, Shiranui, stuck in the ground in front of Katou, and had left. And Katou had used that sword to pull himself up, and had used that sword to lean against as he followed after Kira.
Because that didn’t sound like Kira. It had sounded as though Kira was saying good-bye. And that didn’t make any fucking sense because Kira was immortal and why the fuck would he be saying his good-byes?
Katou caught up to Kira in time to see his best friend plunge a sword through his own chest to stab the angel that was behind him. Rociel, the same psychotic angel that had possessed Katou and had gotten him killed the first time. Rociel, the angel that had Setsuna’s face.
Rociel, the angel who screamed “Lucifer” as Kira pulled the sword from his chest, swung around, and cut the fucker down, cleaving him clean in half. Katou had almost been relieved, had almost congratulated Kira on his victory, when Rociel rose again, and plunged his hand into Kira’s back, his first emerging bloody from Kira’s chest – despite the fact that the angel didn’t have a head or left arm.
Once Rociel’s body had reattached itself (which was one of the more horrifying things Katou had ever watched), he turned his attention to Katou. Before he could attack, Setsuna had used his astral power to throw Katou out of the room and slam the door behind him. And no matter how hard Katou banged on the door, he couldn’t open it. He couldn’t protect Setsuna, and he couldn’t get the image of Kira with a fist coming out of his chest out of his head.
All he could do was listen to Setsuna’s screams of agony behind the door.
Katou woke up in a cold sweat, and moved to shoot up in his bed, only to discover that the broken ribs had apparently carried through. He let out a muffled grunt of pain, and then fell back.
It was okay, he tried to tell himself. It was fine. Kira couldn’t be killed – he’d piece himself back together and help Setsuna out. After all, hadn’t Katou cut Kira down as well when he had been possessed? Hadn’t Kira been fine then? Setsuna would be fine. He couldn’t die yet; they hadn’t rescued Sara yet.
Katou almost had himself convinced before he turned his head to the side, and saw Shiranui lying in the bed beside him. Slowly, he sat up, and picked up the sword, half convinced that it wasn’t real. It wasn’t until he pulled the sword a couple inches from the sheath, and looked at his distorted reflection in the blade, that he was convinced that it was real.
Shiranui, the sword that had chosen Kira as its master centuries ago. The sword that Kira could pull out of his blood had been passed on to him. Did that mean that Kira… that Kira…
Katou didn’t notice he was crying until he let out a strangled sob, and then he hugged the sword closely to his chest. Kira, the kid who had been Katou’s friend for over ten years in the dreams. Kira had given Katou his first cigarette when Katou was twelve. Kira, who had gotten Katou drunk the first time. He had taken care of Katou whenever Katou had ODed, had cleaned Katou whenever he was too high to do it himself. Kira had let Katou stay at his place sometimes, and then had found the hideout under some debris where Katou had lived.
Katou had never admitted to himself in the dreams that he had been in love with Kira, but it was hard to deny the ache in his chest. It felt as though his heart had shattered into a thousand pieces, and for the first time since Katou had quit using, all Katou wanted was to get high. To shoot up, and to numb the pain. It was almost more than he could bear, and no matter how many times he repeated to himself that it was fucking stupid to get this worked up over a dream, that he had never even met Kira in this lifetime and that there was nothing that he could do about it so he should brush it off and continue on with his life, the pain wouldn’t go away.
Nana rested her large head on Katou’s lap, gave a bit of a whine, and looked up at Katou with her stupid bonnet, and while it wasn’t much, he felt a little comforted. He slipped off the bed and wrapped his arms around her neck, Shiranui between them, and buried his face in her fur until he felt confident that he could stop crying.
He couldn’t let Wendy and Jack see him like this. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this, because he was the Mighty Katou, who didn’t cry, and who didn’t let things get to him. “Don’t tell Wendy and Jack, alright?” he said when he pulled away from the dog. “This is our little secret.”
He was going to need to take a cold shower if he didn’t want to look all puffy faced when Wendy and Jack woke up. Using Shiranui to walk with – perhaps not the most dignified use of the sword, but Katou couldn’t bear to let it go just yet and he was having trouble walking without something to lean against – he went to Jack’s room to check in on him. While he was sure that Jack didn’t feel the same way, Katou considered him his best friend in this world. Jack looked a little chilly – he often did nowadays – but was still alive, and Katou watched him sleep for a couple of moments.
“Don’t you fucking die on me too,” he muttered quietly as he turned away, heading toward the shower.