"Sigh… What a mess…" the Director clicks her tongue. Standing on top of the small hill leading down to the stream, she watches with Kit as the forensics carry off the hand discovered a few hours ago. "To think something like this would happen…"
"Director…" Kit can still feel his hands trembling slightly. The memory of the severed member right in front of him is too fresh, and try as he might, he can't get the image of it out of his head; the way the skin was completely gone, the whole thing bloated and deformed, the place where it cut off where you could clearly see the bone. "You…You don't suppose…" …that this was part of the person they have been looking for. If that was the state of just a hand, he didn't want to think what state the rest of the body was in. That is, if there was a body.
But instead of answering, the Director just stares straight ahead. "That won't concern you anymore. Your job is done. From now on, I'll be the one handling the case."
Kit is left speechless. "But–"
"Did you not hear me?"
"Ah, but–"
"Just go home. Take the day off."
No matter what Kit said, he would just get rejected. But before leaving, "Director, may I ask… What's going to happen now?"
"I suppose they'll run some sort of DNA test on it or something. Really, what do I know? Last thing I knew, there wasn't even a single forensic in this place…" she mutters under her breath. "If they're able to confirm an identity, then the family will have to be notified. But like I said, you will not concern yourself with this anymore."
His sense of duty makes it hard for him to simply drop this halfway, and thinking about Fen's miserable face the last time he had seen him only makes him want to see this to the end, but… But the Director has been final about it. So Kit only grits his teeth and swallows all following protests. "...I understand."
"Don't take it personally," she half-heartedly, and somewhat awkwardly, consoles him. What a rare moment of consideration coming from Fluorite…
"I won't."
As he's walking away, a sudden thought occurs to him. "Director," he turns back after only a few steps, "just who exactly was this… client?"
"Ah, that's right, I never did tell you who they were… Well, it won't do any harm now, I suppose." The Director lets out a dry laugh. "It's a bit of a funny coincidence…Don't you know?"
"Know what?"
"This person… He was the president of the Integral Meats company."
~~~
Kit doesn't go home. Not directly. Lost in thought, he had wandered all around town without any clear destination. He's so distracted, he isn't even bothered by the cold anymore.
The name of the company the Director had mentioned — Integral Meats… That name was one he was too familiar with, one he had hoped he would never grow entangled with again in his life. Just the mention of it was enough to bring goosebumps all over his skin, the nightmare of what had happened as vivid in his mind as if it were yesterday. These two events… Were they related in some way? Or could it simply be a coincidence?
A coincidence… Kit mulls over it again and again in his mind. Coincidence… No, no, it couldn't be. It couldn't be a coincidence.
It was too deliberate, almost personal. Like… Like a vendetta.
But that was just too ridiculous. A demon? With a vendetta? Not possible. There was no sequence of events that could have led to that. There was no contact between humans and demons. Not for years, and certainly none that could have resulted in… this.
What a mess… This whole thing was such a mess, he's getting a headache just thinking about it. It's no use to keep pondering the matter further anyways. The Director told him this was none of his business, and he will only become more frustrated the more he dwells on it.
When he finally looks at his surroundings, Kit finds himself in an area unfamiliar to him. He doesn't recognize any of the houses or buildings, and there are no signs anywhere with directions. It looks like he has gotten himself lost.
And to make things worse, it's already dark, the sun having set hours ago. Though it is probably not that late, once again, because of the current atmosphere over the town, there is not a single person in sight, giving the impression it must be a lot later into the evening.
It looks like Kit has no other choice but to keep walking, wandering aimlessly and trust his luck that he will at some point reach somewhere he's more familiar with, or at least meet with someone who he could ask directions to.
Walking and walking, he feels as if hours must have passed. He feels as if he were walking in circles.
It might be his imagination, but with every passing minute, the streets seem to be becoming darker, the alleys narrower, and the buildings more faded and wasted. Could it be… Has he lost himself even more? Made his way into the "seedier" parts of town?
He does encounter one or two people, but they're just drunks; one could say they're more part of the landscape of the area. Not people he could ask for directions.
Eventually, he makes his way to what appears to be an abandoned park. The one set of swings rusty and falling apart, and the wind makes them move slightly, an eerie creaking noise being produced as the oxidised metal sways back and forth. The grass all around is overgrown and filled with weeds. A few benches are littered around, but they're broken in places, dirty and full of graffiti. It really is a pitiful place. A place where only the most miserable people would end up in.
In fact, there seems to be one of them sleeping on a bench over to the far end, partially hidden behind some overgrown bushes. They're curled up into themselves, probably trying to maintain some body heat in this cold. With their back facing Kit, he can't make out their features. But getting closer, Kit feels as if there is something familiar about that figure…
It suddenly strikes him like lightning. That is…
That person… How could he not have recognised them? Their figure, how many times had he not seen that back?
Going over to them, he shakes their shoulder gently, not wanting to startle them or scare them.
He sees the person stir slowly. Ah, so they had been asleep…
"Baz," Kit says softly, his breath fogging in front of his mouth. "Baz, wake up."
Groggily, Baz lifts himself into a half sitting position. "What…" His speech sounds slurred and his cheeks are flushed red. The pungent smell of alcohol seems to have seeped into his very skin; his whole self reeks of it. His clothes are dirty and crinkled; he's probably been wearing them for who knows how many days. How long has he been in this state?
"What are you doing here?" Kit asks.
But Baz appears not to have heard him, he only slumps back down, falling half-asleep again.
"Come on." Kit tries to get Baz to stand up. He can't possibly leave Baz lying out here. "You need to get up."
But when Kit tries to hoist Baz up, he shoves Kit away. "Leave me alone."
"Baz…"
"Who the hell are you, anyways?"
Shit, he's so drunk… "It's me," Kit tries to reason with him, "Kit."
Baz only blinks a couple of times.
Kit sighs. "Baz. How much did you have to drink?" Baz shakes his head. "Can you even stand up?"
Again, Baz shakes his head.
"Baz." Kit pokes him between the brows. Maybe that would have some effect on him, rouse him from his stupor and make him see some sort of clarity. And it does. Somehow.
Baz finally sits up. But he just hides his face between his knees, refusing to move no matter what Kit does.
"Baz…" exasperated, "Why are you being so stubborn?" Never in his life had Kit seen Baz get drunk before. Tipsy at most, but never drunk. No matter how much he drank, Baz didn't lose a hold of himself like this. It makes Kit wonder, just how much did he really drink? "You can't stay here, you know."
For a minute, Kit thinks Baz has fallen asleep again in this position, but suddenly, he hears Baz muttering to himself, "What's the use…" He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling with the dark strands and making his appearance even more dishevelled. "All this… What's the use… It's all bullshit… Bullshit!" He gives a humourless laugh. "I can't take it anymore…"
Those words… Weren't they too similar to his own thoughts? He wants to discard them as just drunk ramblings, but something tells him it's not just that.
"Kit…" Kit freezes. Baz addressing him takes him by surprise. "Please, tell me… Why? Why me? Why me? I never wanted any of this, never asked for it, so why me? It's just too unfair…" He raises his head, and Kit is surprised to see the moonlight reflected in the tears shining in Baz's eyes. "I just wanted a normal life… Is that so much to ask for? Is that such a sin that the heavens had to punish me like this?"
In the face of Baz crying, Kit can't do anything. It's like being confronted with some inscrutable concept; in the face of something so foreign, one can't help but be paralysed with fear. No, not fear… It's not fear exactly, but some similar feeling he can't quite put a name to.
"It's just…" Baz continues, "My whole life… I don't think I ever was truly happy. No, no, it was always the same thing. Could I never be myself, not even for a single second? Never good enough… Is that really all they think of me? Why? Why couldn't I just have been born into a normal life…"
"Baz, what are you saying…"
"Mother… Fluorite… They couldn't possibly understand. No one does." Baz covers his face with his hands, trying to hide his tears. But it's no use. They roll down his cheeks, with the soft pitter-patter of them dripping from his chin to the floor delicately. Suddenly, he exclaims, "Argh! Why can no one understand?! All this is shit! How could they want it…? Magic… Isn't it a horrible burden? So why can't they understand… Can't see how horrible this all is… Guess I'm alone in this…" Baz laughs again, an ugly, broken thing that halfway turns into a sob. "So alone… Alone…" Finally, whether from the effects of the alcohol, or because it has become too much, or maybe a combination of both, Baz breaks down, his shoulders silently shaking with sobs, a hand thrown over his eyes and his teeth gritted not to let out any sounds.
Kit wants to tear his gaze away, his whole body screaming at him to run away. Instead, he comes to stand directly in front of Baz. Hesitantly, carefully, he lays a hand on top of Baz's head in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. With Baz's face pressed against him and Kit holding the back of Baz's head it's like some sort of awkward embrace.
Not knowing how to react or having any words to say, Kit just lets Baz cry all he needs. Kit can feel the tears soaking through his front shirt, but he finds himself not bothered by it. How long they stay like that, Kit has no idea, but when Baz has finally let it all out, he draws away from Kit.
"Baz, you–"
"Kit," Baz interrupts him. There's a grave seriousness behind his voice. "Promise me… Please, don't hate me…"
"What?" Baz must still be drunk. Kit hurries to appease him, "No, what are you–"
"Please, I just… Promise me you won't hate me. No matter what. I don't think I could…"
"I won't hate you. I could never hate you."
"I'm glad." Baz gives a weak smile. A few tears leak out of his eyes, and he hurriedly wipes them away. "I really am."
"Baz, I mean it." He knows Baz is drunk; he probably won't even remember any of this tomorrow, but for some reason, Kit feels the need to repeat it. "I could never hate you, I–"
"Kit." Baz clutches the front of Kit's robe. He rests his head against Kit's abdomen. "Thank you."
"W-what for?"
"You know… You're probably the only person who's ever truly known me… You…" Baz's voice grows softer. "I don't know what I would ever do without you…"
'He's drunk,' Kit tries telling himself, but that doesn't stop his heart from beating faster. 'He's drunk and he doesn't mean it.' But those words won't stop repeating themselves over and over in his mind. Even if just for a moment, even if it's a dream, can't he be allowed to savour a taste of that sweetness?
~~~
After that, Baz had passed out again. Kit had searched through Baz's pockets for any cash or his cellphone, but most likely, he had lost his wallet and phone or been robbed. That left Kit with no option but to take Baz back to his apartment.
But dragging a grown man his size, half-passed out, was a task more difficult than he could have ever imagined. Not to mention the fact that they were lost. By some miracle though, Kit manages to find his way, and they both make it in one piece.
Seeing the building where he lives looming a few metres away from him, Kit never imagined the relief and happiness he would feel at it. That is, until he remembers the trek up the stairs to his apartment.
This second part does not go as smoothly, and Kit is sure that come next morning, Baz will have more than a few bruises that were not there before. With the ruckus they make, Kit is sure that the only reason why his neighbours don't come out to investigate is out of consideration for him; not to embarrass him further. (Because the fact that they peeked out of their windows to see what was going on is a given. Kit himself saw the lights in the doorways turning on, the faces barely hidden behind curtains, but he just ignored them.)
Just when they're standing in front of the door to his flat, Baz shows signs of life once again.
Useless idiot! Kit gnashes his teeth mentally. Only stops being deadweight when it's no longer needed!
Baz asks confusedly, "Where…"
"Shut up if you're not going to be of any use." The response comes out harsher than Kit intended.
Baz just hums, not bothered by Kit's annoyed tone. Instead, he only clings to Kit's side closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of Kit's neck. Immediately, all the blood rushes to Kit's face. Seriously, this guy… Who would have known he was one of those clingy people when drunk?
Making their way into the house, they barely avoid tripping over all the mess Kit has lying all across the floor on their way to the bedroom. In the state he's in, he doesn't think Baz would be able to sleep on the couch without accidentally killing himself, or at the very least, ending up on the floor. Instead, it looks like Kit is going to have to resign himself to waking up with a sore neck tomorrow.
But as he's laying Baz down on the bed, he's suddenly pulled down too. In this position, he is half on top of Baz, half on the bed. Kit tries to get up, but Baz only pulls him in closer, wrapping his arms around Kit's waist and effectively trapping him.
"Baz…" Kit struggles to get free, his whole face burning with shame. "Let go…"
Instead, Baz nuzzles closer, burying his face in Kit's neck. His breath lands directly against Kit's ear, and the smell of sweat and alcohol clinging to Baz is even stronger now.
"Kit…" Baz whispers, his warm breath tickling Kit, "don't go…"
"B-but! You–! You can't–!" He couldn't possibly think they were going to sleep like this!
"You…" Baz's words are coming out more and more slurred. "You promised you wouldn't hate me…"
Kit, "…"
This guy! What kind of bullshit was he saying?! It was obvious the alcohol had messed with his brain– No, not just messed with it, it had completely rotten it! A brain?! There simply was no brain left to speak of!
"So please…" Baz clutches Kit tighter. "Don't go…"
With a jolt, Kit feels something wet rubbing against his neck. Looking at Baz's face, he can see a couple of tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. Working like a soothing balm, Kit's heart immediately softens at the sight. Seeing him in such a pitiful state…
So, against his better judgement, "Fine," Kit answers. "I'll stay with you."
Besides, Kit tells himself, it wouldn't mean anything. Baz wouldn't even remember.
It doesn't mean anything…