Author: Chauni

RP Session: Azrael/Kazu

Scene: Kazu, bearing the burden of guilt over his ex-lover, finds himself resorting to extreme measures.

Dedicated to PC, Sha, Issendai

Marble and Morphine

“Like your shadow
I will haunt you
Do you remember?
I said to you
'Love is a mountain
But harder to climb.
It should be forever
But love is unkind
To me.
Don't let me down.'

And you let me down.”

~ Gary Numan, “The Seed of a Lie”

Everyone has a single idea of it, of how it functions and is set into motion, but only we know the absolute truth, the ones forced to take the final seat and watch unabashed.

The crossover is as if climbing the side of a proud mountain, riddled and eroded with time and wear. There are the footholds, the ridges for our battered hands to slip into, to propel us to the summit and our final goal. Sometimes the landscapes were smooth as if just sanded, and other times they were riddled and pleading to be taken.

Today, Kazu was a polished marble, smooth, hard, impenetrable.

He has not been well, my human counterpart. Most cannot see his illness, his weariness, for he never truly wishes them to. I have noted him to be quite the actor, when the mood suits him, when the guilt is too much for even him to bear. You see he has a problem with it, with the burden of the blame on him. If there were a hundred of him, perhaps he could deal, for isn’t that his problem really? That he sets himself in too many directions at once and can never devote himself completely to one person?

It is simple to point a finger and scream. It is easy to yell and hit and claim what a “whore” he may be.

It is near impossible to understand.

He never wishes to hurt anyone. It is never a question of the acts that lie between the sheets. It is simply a matter of the heart. It is the acknowledgement that he is beautiful, he is kind, he is loving and worthy of such love, when he had been told for the betterment of his life he was flawed, a hated thing worthy of such only.

“I am so tired.”

His bathroom houses so many memories. The shower is where he crawled to after the scarring incident with Gremory, something I am not completely comfortable with yet. He has sat below the sink and sobbed until he vomited over Freyr a hundred times over. He sat with Kyosuke and cleaned the wound in his hand, while explaining how sorry he was.

And yet, he went here now, sitting beneath that sink once more, the knife that formed scars on his back, in his soul, clutched in white-knuckled hands. Gremory wasn’t home at the moment; I believe he went to gather some food for the barren apartment. He cares for my Kazu perhaps more than anyone ever has. This was a calming thought, even with my need to scream at the moment.

“I really am the Angel of Death, aren’t I? Apparently, I’m pretty fucking good at it, too.”

He was referring to Cade and Freyr. I had no comforting words for those cases, other than Kazu never was vindictive, never was simply out for the conquest and destruction for either of these men. He loved them both, as they loved him, but he could never do what they wished. It is not in his psychological make-up, and as a result, both of them have suffered beyond what any normal person should ever have to.

And for that, Kazu had taken a seat on this bathroom floor.

Kazu, ple—

But he was soothing in his insanity. Most, I have found, are screaming lunatics which wish to take the world down with them. If they must suffer, then so must everyone else in all of existence. Kazu, however, wishes nothing more than to fade into the background at the risk of hurting someone else.

A short quick pain for the others rather than the drawn out dramatic fanfare that has accompanied him thus far was all he requested. He knew the pain of which he will induce on both Gremory and Kyosuke, but they would be over it in time. It may take several days, perhaps weeks, but they will go on. And Freyr and Cade should both be pleased.

What he could not realize is the totality of how wrong he was. At least on every aspect other than the Freyr one; I was pretty certain that he wanted to see Kazu’s insides strewn across every room of this apartment.

Kazu, li—

And he hushed me again, weighing the blade against one blue-lined wrist. He stared at the tender area, entranced, rolling over images of his skin splitting, of the blood bubbling forth, of painting the tiles with it. And he let me taste them all.

I wanted to scream at him, my hands slamming at his walls. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t! If he succeeded…Nathanael and I would be separated once again. And who knows when, if I would ever find him again.

And I fear for Nathanael’s stability if I am gone. And for anyone Nathanael may know. I am not as blind to his afflictions as it may seem I am.

You have to list—

But he’s lost to his own delusions.

“I am a disease, a cancer. I taint and twist all that I touch. I destroy and corrupt and fuck it all up.”

I was always surprised that Kyosuke or Gremory didn’t feel his anguish more than they did. Kyosuke knew more than the Guide did, and that is understandable; Gremory was his morphine, and he felt nothing but the simple pleasures of the moment within his presence. However, that delusion was destroyed that is now gone with the Cade issue. Kyosuke reminded him of Freyr, always have and always shall. And with the thought of Freyr, comes the guilt once more, that unbearable, damning weight upon his shoulders.

“Why? Why do I do this to everyone? How can I hurt everyone like this and not even mean to? How much longer until it’s Grem or Kyo? If….if I ever…

“I could never forgive myself.”

The world shut itself in black as he closed his eyes, as he wrapped ethereal arms around me. “I am sorry about Nathanael, Azrael. I am. I hope you understand one day. You have all of eternity to find him again; I just have this one life.”

Have you ever attempted to find one person in a population of six billion? I inquired with a venomous hiss, but he heard me not, having already shut me out. I wanted to cry, and if I had eyes that were my own I would have; after all that I had done to find my Nathanael, and only to lose him again.

He was still that polished marble. Damn!

Kazu was crying as he pressed the blade against supple flesh, pliable skin that split with a line of perfect, papercut quality. I, we, watched in mutual fascination as blood rushed in a marathon to meet the air, to turn pale tiles a stained crimson with its darkened kiss. He made a small noise of pain in the back of his throat, a soft whine barely audible in the little room. I was screaming at him to stop, pleading for the love of Nathanael and the sanity of Kyosuke and the well-being of Gremory. I was the voice of reason in a chaos that sounded so much sweeter than reality.

He slashed the other wrist.

I clawed at the walls, pounding on them like an insolent child. I screeched inside of his head. I wept.

He ignored me, drawing in his blood against the floor. Big sweeping letters.

I’m sorry.

He was dizzy now, the world hazy around the edges as his heart sounded in his ears, deafening. I was painfully aware of everything, even as he was fading away. Would I just ride away on the tide, torn in an undertow of everything I held dear? Would it matter?

I heard the front door open, heard a familiar voice call out my counterpart’s name. Kazu gathered himself up enough to quiet his crying, pushing himself against the back of the bathtub with a trail of brilliant scarlet against the floor, whining like a maimed animal.

And the name was called again, and Kazu was smooth as marble, and the door opened.
Pale eyes stared up guiltily at those black eyes, black eyes that filled the world. Kazu opened his mouth to speak, to find some words to say, even as he dropped that knife with a quiet clatter onto the floor.

“I’m sorry…”

But the Guide wasn’t listening; as I said before, he was a good man, caring far too much for my counterpart to be mad at him in this critical moment. He snatched two towels from the wall and crouched down beside my Kazu and set to work, just as he, as we, pass out.

A few days later saw us at a familiar door in a familiar home not of our own design. I was warmly enveloped in Kazu’s doubt, in his nerves that sparked a million different thoughts, a hundred different excuses to turn and walk away. His marble had edged away enough for me to slip the tips of my fingers through, but little more.

Gremory, when Kazu had woken up, had sat and said nothing for the longest of times. Even I was a bit afraid of his silence, of his expression as he rubbed that tattoo on his hand, unable to look at his beloved. And I could see that the Guide had wanted to say so much, but could not find the words to aid him, so remained quiet.

“I…I’m sorry, Grem, but can I ex--”

He held up his hand, finally laying oil-spill eyes on us. He was hurt, something I was not surprised of; I was worried about Kyosuke and how he would feel when this was all discovered. Would he have that same expression of inadequacy, of failure, of disappointment, of pain and near loss, of an anger barely subdued?

Leaning forward, he pressed his satin lips to Kazu’s forehead, though it was apparent he did not want to; rage was a sweet thing that he kept in check, though I was unable to tell if it was fury at himself or at my counterpart. But I knew, as did Kazu, that his will to show Kazu the love that he still held for him would overturn all the other misgivings he currently held.

“Go. Make your peace, because all you’re doing is driving yourself crazy here,” he stated. The need to argue his own decision was apparent in his midnight eyes, but he bit back his tongue; letting Kazu go alone to make amends was the last thing he wanted to do, but the alternative seemed like an even more cruel fate.

So, now we stand before this door, the flat of Kazu’s hand against the wood. He called to mind what lurked beneath: the rampant run of plants, the bed, the chair, the sleeping body, and Kazu wanted to run again. I could see the bandages peeking free from the sleeve of his coat, a suede piece that is lined with fur. And Kazu was crying behind his eyes, in a place where only I could see, whimpering like a five-year-old. I could console him no longer, and my arms were closed to him, no solace offered.

After finding no safe haven with me, he dropped his hand to the knob and pushed open the door. I was silent, watching as he shuffled in, clad in the clothes of a man for this special occasion. The room was as he imagined it would be, overrun with green, sunlight drifting in, and the tension more thick than anything he could have imagined. And all of his own design.

Light, hesitant footsteps carried him to the bed, a bed where a still form lingered beneath a thin blanket. Kneeling down beside it, he exerted an effort to be as far away from the plants as much as one possibly could. I was as afraid as Kazu was, fearing the owner of the room would send his charges after us and tear us limb from limb.

“I can’t do it,” Kazu murmured. “I can’t. Not anymore. Can’t. I can’t, I can’t, Ican’tIcan’tIcan’tIcan’t!”

He was sobbing already, laying his forehead onto his knees as he cried, the shower of ebony hair shielding us. I was growing afraid, afraid Kazu would break and rip over the bandages and the stitches that Gremory had lovingly placed beneath, but I was in luck that Kazu was riddled with footholds. I could get through if I had to.

His, our, eyes lashed out to where the other lay, suddenly hard, harder than they had ever been. He grabbed the edge of his sleeve, hissing through clenched teeth as he tugged it up. “I can’t keep doing this to myself, Freyr. I’m killing myself over you and the guilt I feel and I can’t anymore. I am literally dying. And you may think I deserve it, but I don’t.”

He dropped the sleeve. How I wish Freyr could actually hear this, but as I thought of it, that might not be the most beneficial path. Freyr probably would not have allowed him to get two words past his full lips before he tore them completely off. I knew the rage of a betrayed lover; I knew how it seared, it scarred.

“Grem… He told me I have to forgive myself, because I’m not just punishing myself, but him and Kyosuke, too, and I can’t hurt Kyosuke. Can’t.” He closed his eyes, one hand rubbing at his eyes, at his cheeks. “I’m sorry for what’s happened, Freyr, so very sorry. But that’s in the past, and I have a future I have to look forward to, people to live for, and I couldn’t do it until I saw you, and until I forgave myself. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Leaning forward, he brushed hair back from the other’s forehead, pressing his pliable lips against the flesh there. Even as he broke his heart, I could feel him mending it, sewing it together once more, tighter, solid. “I love you, Freyr. I always will, until the day I die. And I’m sorry. But…

“I forgive myself, too.”

He shifted on the floor, crawling to his feet as he looked down at the sleeping other who had never changed expression. “Goodbye, Freyr.”

I relaxed myself as Kazu turned and walked out, the soft footfalls echoing in my, our, senses again. Kazu had regained pieces of his stability the further he drifted from the room, and ultimately, from the Manor. I shed my support on Kazu as well as I could, showed him the comfort and the approval I felt, but he shunned me politely.

“I only did,” he whispered, “what I should have done all along.”

And I agreed, leaving us to both walk in silence.

Once we were home, he realized the morphine was no longer needed. Rose-colored glasses were shed for simple grateful kisses upon velvet lips, and lithe fingers that slid through ashen hair.

I took my leave and let them be, busying myself with thoughts of my Nathanael in the now peaceful back-end corner of Kazu’s mind.

The End