Summary: Nightmares are only for those who dream but in Ran's mind, they are his reality. He is broken now and now he suffers. Sequel to Scream.
Warnings: Lemon, anguish, lots of anguish, deathfic
By Squall Morpheus Leonhart
For the tenth time that night, Ran woke up expecting to see blood on his hands. His sister’s body beside him, dead. It had already been a week since he was found after the rainstorm, a week of nightmares that left him with little sleep. A week since his inner demon began to haunt him. This demon haunted him so much; he could not rest anymore. He could not concentrate on missions. The blood on his sword and hands mocked him, made him think of his nightmare.
Like the stains on his hands, the fear of killing grew. He feared that he was finally losing his mind. He feared that he might one day lose his sanity, his control. It was because of this fear that he could no longer sleep peacefully. The strength he once had banished the day he dreamt of raping his sister or was it Yohji? He couldn’t tell anymore. All he knew was that he raped and killed a loved one.
Sighing, Ran stood and glanced at the clock. It was 4:50 in the morning. Deciding to start on the day’s orders, Ran took his towel that was on his desk’s chair. Silently he moved into the hallway and into the bathroom. He closed the door and turned on the switch. He examined himself in the mirror.
Where a strong pale healthy man should be was a weary ghost of a man, the man who Ran should be. The reflection was that of a skinny male whose skin clung tightly to his ribs. Dark circles were around amethyst orbs, as the once full face became gaunt. The once vibrant hair became a limp mass of dull red. Who was this man? Where was the handsome male of years past? What had happened to Ran?
Ran despised himself now, hating the way he looked, hating the way he lived. Yet this was his punishment of free choice, his own will. The fires of his spirit dwindled to nothing until all that was left was an empty shell of who he once was, of who he was now. He could not call himself Ran nor could he call himself Aya. Who was he, he wondered. He was neither orchid nor assassin. He was just a lost soul, a drifter in this realm of living. He lived only to save his light, his sister. That was his nutriment, while revenge quenched his thirst. Who was he? He was a ghost.
Ran turned away from the mirror and walked into the shower. He turned on the spray, letting his body go under the harsh cold needles. He could not feel the cold knives; he was too numbed in his mind to feel them. He just stood there, face toward the harsh spray, back erect, body numb. How long he stood and took the treatment, he did not know. All he knew was the pain and torment of his dreams, his nightmares.
Finally his body could take no more and prayed for liberation and so he turned the knob toward warmth. Even as the water heated, he could still feel nothing. His body went on automatic. He scrubbed his hands so much it was like he wanted to purge them of blood. His mind away, he subconsciously tried to scrub away his skin. Had the water not go cold, he would have done just that.
Turning off the spray, he stepped out to dry himself. He looked at the mirror and scowled before reaching down and into the last drawer. He rummaged through its contents until he found it, a tube of cover-up that was the same color as his skin. Carefully he placed some of the cream around his eyes and face to make it look fuller, healthier.
As he stepped out, he heard voices from down the hall, the kitchen to be exact. Grateful for still wearing his black pants, he walked silent to the kitchen. He stayed in the corridor, in the shadows as he would on surveillance missions. He schooled his breathing to be almost non-existent as he eavesdropped on the conversation. He heard Omi. “I’m worried about Aya-kun.”
“So am I, I mean the ice prince has gotten colder and well doesn’t he seem a little, you know, um…fragile for the lack of a better word,” replied Ken.
“Nah, I think he’s just having trouble. Being the bastard he is; he must be getting secretive about something. This guy is just overreacting about something,” humored Yohji.
“Yeah that might be it but he just seems like he’s more exhausted than usual.”
“Well on missions, I noticed that, when he was about to kill, he hesitates like he doesn’t want to do it,” stated Ken.
“I know and I seen him falter. Falter. He never did that before. He still has the same grace but the intensity’s muted,” commented Yohji.
“You know, I walked into his room last night and it was like he was trying to scream, but it was muffled. He was tossing and turning like crazy. It was shocking,” exclaimed Omi.
“I haven’t seen him eat in a long time, how about you?”
Ran turned and walked back into his room, furious. How dare they talk about him behind his back! How dare them! In the process of putting on the horrendous orange sweater, he knew that he shouldn’t blame them. Omi, being the kind-hearted assassin he is, does worry about him and Ken would do anything his boyfriend would.
He knew that he should talk to someone before he snapped. Yet, he was scared. It was certainly not a topic he could easily talk about. No, it wasn’t. How could he just come to someone and say, ‘I dreamt I raped and killed a loved one?’ He certainly can’t and he never did say any words that are close rated to Love and Care. No, this was his cross to bear and bear it he will.
Yes, he was stubborn. Yes, he was secretive and reserved but he had no choice. The only reason he lived was because of his sister. Though in his heart he knew that was not the only reason. He lived for his comrades as well. He lived to lead them, to guide them. They would have never made it this far if was not in charge as field tactician and strategist though Omi did have some thought on that. Omi was only good as the strategist but if something goes wrong. Yohji was good on the field but he couldn’t carry plans straight though and Ken was just plain impulsive.
This was where Ran came in. He helped them out of the most impossible situations alive and well. He knew when to act and where to have a back up and an escape plan. He was the one to save them when they were in a jam. He was their savior. He was their leader but would they still think of him that way if he confessed his weakness, his own demon? Would they still think of him strong? Or will they let him grovel at the bottom of their heels?
He was about to go out the door when someone knocked on it. Silently he opened the portal and glared at the person, Omi. “Hn.”
“Aya-kun, Yotan woke up this morning early and I thought you could get a day off since I have no school and KenKen doesn’t have any practice,” said Omi, batting his eyes in the most adorable puppy eye imitation.
“Arigatou, Aya-kun,” stated Omi as he ran down the hall.
Ran sighed and decided to go out for a little drive. Grabbing his keys, he walked out the room that held his nightmares. On his way out he bumped into Yohji, Aya didn’t look at the object of his affections and left in much haste. Careful to keep his icy shield in tact, he left the Koneko without speaking a word or glance.
He knew he was going insane. He knew that this was just another dream. He knew that the blood on his hands weren’t real, that the semen wasn’t his. He knew that the body beside him wasn’t his sister’s or Yohji’s. He knew that this was just another nightmare. That’s what it is, right?
He gasped as he felt the darkness suffocate him. He couldn’t breathe. He felt something tighten around his neck, cutting off his air supply. He couldn’t tell if this was still a dream or reality. All he knew was that something was choking him. He felt something heavy in his right hand. Opening his eyes, he saw his katana in his hand. There, a glimmer of light reflected on something, a wire.
He blindly struck forward. He heard a groan and the suffocating stopped. Then another sound as something impaled his left shoulder. He pounced to the left and thrust downward, smelling the spilled blood on his blade. Another sound, this time a slash across his back, he did a backward thrust and smiled as the blood of his victim spattered on his bare back. Then as sudden as his last instinctive stroke, a white light revealed the victims of this white hunter.
He gasped as he saw them before him, plain as day, dying like mere roses cut off their stems. Blood flowed from their bodies and into the ground beneath them. On each of their faces was a blank expression. Then suddenly, it turned into a grim smile as each of the fallen corpses stood up. Their arms were arms were raised as if to pound him into the ground. Surely they wouldn’t?
He ran away from them, hoping to get away. However, he was enwrapped into an embrace, a cold embrace. He turned to face his captor and saw his sister. Her eyes were dead as his companions. Her lips formed an insane smile as her grip tightened. He tried to get away, he tried to break loose but it was futile.
Then he saw the taller blonde wrap his wires around his neck. Two darts impaled his shoulders and the claws of the brunette struck his chest before embedding themselves into his heart. He gasped in agony as his sister took his sword and impaled him through his back and into his stomach. He squirmed but only succeeded to have the girl twist the bloodstained sword. As his world blackened, he whispered, “Is this what I receive from killing you, all of you? Alas it is too merciful…”
From the shadows of his mind, he heard the one voice that still taught him in the ways of the blade, “Nay, Orchid, this is only the beginning. Someday the Ghost will arise and the Healer as well. Yet, you must sacrifice one thing or another. It will all end in tragedy, little Orchid. You will lose the one you love or the one you cherish or perhaps you will lose only the chance you have wanted from the beginning. It will all end in tragedy and your true sacrifice will be in vain.”
As the words meaning passed through his mind, he tried to get away from this plane. All his strength was fading and his life was slowly being drained out of his body and mind. He would not last much longer. No he will not nor will he finally find the peace he had long searched for. He will die or be condemned in this prison of darkness; he will be forever cursed in this abyss.
Suddenly he did not want to face that fate. He wanted out; he wanted to wake up from this dream. He wanted to live again but if he woke up, will he still wish that? He did not know but all he knew was that he wanted to go back to his harsh reality, his life of living. He wanted to go, he wanted to leave, he wanted to forget.
Despite his desperate attempts to leave this realm, he was trapped, trapped in the wires of his unrequited love, trapped in the grasp of his inner demon, trapped in the shadows of his anguish. He could not live in this realm of sorrow, woe and darkness, this abyss. He couldn’t survive for all of his demons reined here and he was the slave to their will. In this realm he would suffer a thousand pains and suffer thousand tenfold of guilt and sorrow. He did not want to be here.
This place held too many memories, particularly the ones that pained him. These memories were part of his punishment. Each passed his eyes with great intensity from the explosion to the capturing of his sister. All of these and more flashed across his shut tight eyes, yet they still managed to manifest themselves into his mind, imprinting the horrifying memories forever in the broken mind and into his soul.
Scream. That’s what he wanted to do. To scream until his lungs burst or he was freed from this plane, most likely the former. This was worst than his previous repeating nightmare. He wanted to leave his dark prison.
He felt his delicate mask break and crack as his shield was slowly chipped away. Bit by bit, he was breaking. Soon all of his defenses were gone and the demons finally had him in their grasp. He struggled against them, His strength failing. Then finally, he simply gave up. He couldn’t fight anymore and he bowed his head in defeat. As the demons of darkness ravished his body, he let out a blood-churning scream. It was endless as the darkness around him.
Ran bolted up, hyperventilating. He hoped that none of the others were awake. He did not know whether or not he screamed but he hoped he didn’t. That was the last thing he needed, having the others burst in to see him vulnerable, that as what he was thinking and feeling at this moment. He felt broken, his strong shield, his persona, crashing to the ground.
He could almost see the shattered glass, the broken ice on the floor. It was his icy shield, his glass image that lay on that floor. He felt weak and thought he was. He felt broken beyond repair. Oh how he longed to hear his sister’s voice yet it was gone, just like her smile. He was so empty and broken. He wanted to cry; yet the tears wouldn’t come. He no longer felt human, he felt like an empty shell. Perhaps he was a ghost.
Sighing, he shakily walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. In the dark he poured a glass while opening the fridge door to bathe the room with light. Yet he remained in the shadows, he couldn’t bear to be in the light. He felt too tainted to be there. Yet, wasn’t he the one who destroyed evil? Or was he evil himself? He was confusing himself. He was not black or white but something in between. He was grey, neither white nor black, only grey, eternally grey.
He heard a sound from the garage, most likely Yohji from his bar hopping or with a girl. He almost felt pity for the blond, having to kill his lover, Asuka who was in the form of Neu. However, he felt the same thing every night in his nightmares. Who would ever think that he would be coming back after what he had done earlier this evening?
Ran turned to the Playboy only to see that the said man was sobbing hysterically. He reached out to his comrade but stopped himself, hand still toward the blonde. Should he continue? Should he risk giving away his feelings? “Yohji,” he whispered.
Yohji turned and grasped Ran’s hand as if it was a lifeline. The blonde man cried, hanging on that pale slim arm. Ran watched Yohji collapsed to the ground, taking him with him. If he wasn’t a murderer, he would have comforted the playboy. He turned to face the blonde only to find himself in a lip lock, a kiss. Ran froze, his eyes wide as he looked at Yohji’s closed eyes begging him silently to let go before he would kiss back.
Yohji pulled away and opened his eyes. In the emerald orbs were a thousand agonies and sorrow. “Please,” he whispered, “help me forget, just this once.” Ran blinked, this was the first time he had seen the playboy crumble and beg.
“How,” he asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer. He hoped that it wasn’t what he thought it was. He hoped that it wasn’t-
“Fuck me,” said Yohji bluntly as if it was obvious to the world, “It’s the only way I can forget even for a little while.” Ran was hesitant; he could still taste the alcohol on the blonde’s lips. Yohji would regret this later. “No,” Ran said stiffly.
“Doushite?” Should he tell the blonde? Tell him that he did not want to take him like this? That he preferred that he was somber and in love, not a drunk desperate man he was at the moment?
“No, I won’t. This is something you must do on your own,” replied Ran, holding the drunken man at arms’ length.
“Onegai, please,” pleaded Yohji, “Please Aya, I want to forget.” Ran knew he could do something that did not involve sexual intercourse but will he still be able to keep a tight rein on his emotions? Will he be able to keep himself within his own borders?
Yohji’s continuous pleading was getting to him. Perhaps he will let himself feel the lanky blond underneath him. Ran fiercely shook his head. No, he would not do that, he will only give Yohji a release not his own. “Fine…”
Ran kissed the blonde, savoring the taste of cinnamon and peppermint with the lingering alcohol and cigarettes. It was chaste for he feared he would lose control if he went too far. He had to remain in control, he can not falter. If he did, he would probably- Yohji moaned into his mouth, his hands caressing Ran’s torso.
As the blonde brushed against Ran’s nipples, the redhead almost lost it. Ran broke the kiss as his hands traveled downward. Unsatisfied, Yohji began to suckle at Ran’s neck as the redhead fiddled with the zipper of the blonde’s leather pants. When it was undone, Ran placed his hand over the exposed sex. Yohji gasped as the pale fingers lightly touched the tip of the organ. Ran watched the sun gold neck was exposed.
Yet he fought the urge to kiss it much less mark it. Yohji can mark him all he wanted but Ran would not do the same. Yohji in his mind was straight as a broad. The blonde only needed help, a release he called it, not a lover, not a male lover. Even in his lust state mind, Ran was still in control. Oh how he wanted to take the blonde but he wouldn’t do it.
“Yohji,” he whispered into the taller man’s ear as he delicately stroked the man. He nipped at the adorned earlobe before moving away. His other hand was gently taking of the shirt and as the skin was exposed, Ran’s lips kissed and lingered as the next button was being undone. Soon he reached the abdomen of the Playboy, in front of him was the exposed organ, moist with pre-cum, all for him to see.
Ran removed the hand that fondled with the sex and looked up and glanced, no stared at the dark emeralds, almost black with lust. “Do it,” hissed Yohji. The Playboy let out a loud moan as Ran kissed the organ from base to tip. His tongued flicked at the tip, tasting the essence of the man underneath him. Ran almost smiled but held it. He did not need to lose control now. Not with his demons whispering in his ears to take the blonde.
Fingers calloused from use with a katana massaged the sac as the pink tongue licked underneath the organ. Ran was thankful that the rest of Weiss were sound sleepers, when not on missions as Yohji’s moans became louder. The blonde was almost begging to be taken and Ran did not like that power. He liked power but he didn’t want power over someone like that.
He alternated between sucking at the tip to licking from top to base. He slowly brought Yohji to the brink only to back down. He savored the moans and whimpers of the man below him. His own erection was needy but Ran paid no heed to it. He will deal with it later in his cold room. “Aya,” moaned Yohji, “finish me…fuck me…do something just don’t tempt me.”
In one swift motion, Ran swallowed the shaft as Yohji yelped in surprise. Pale fingers massaged the sac in tune with Ran’s suckling motions. Yohji gripped tightly to the crimson mass of hair as he impaled himself into Ran’s skillful mouth, his other hand held Ran in place at the shoulder. Soon enough Yohji released his seed into Ran’s mouth. Swallowing the essence of the blonde, Ran felt Yohji release the death grip on his crimson hair. Ran got up to get a clean towel only to have Yohji pulled him down and into his embrace, “Arigatou, Aya-kun, arigatou for everything but…”
Ran kissed the blonde to silence him. He got up once more and took a damp towel to clean the blonde, himself and the floor. He then returned to Yohji’s embrace and hummed an old tune he once sang to his sister when she had nightmares. A tune that made him exposed the long dormant brotherly side of his persona.
may feel scared beyond belief
But know I am here and will never leave
I know the darkness that haunts you
For it haunts me too…”
I am here my friend
I am here with you till the very end,
As he sang, he pulled Yohji up to help him walk to his room. His alto singing voice sang in an unknown harmony to the blonde yet it was soothing.
plague your nights
But in fear, I hope to be your light
A light in the darkness where evil lay
A beacon to keep your nightmares at bay…”
Gently, he placed the blonde on the bed and pulled the cover away. He peeled off the silk shirt and leather pants as he laid the blonde on the bed.
I am here my friend
I am here with you till the very end,
He watched the blonde fall in the blissful state of sleep. He gently kissed the forehead as he moved away; he sang the last stanza of his little song.
may not know it
But you kept my light lit
You help me in ways unknown
You helped me fly alone
In a sky of sapphire blue
glad to help you
My friend, my love
My light, my beautiful emerald love…”
He paused at the gate, the portal to the outside world. He turned and faced the sleeping Playboy. He watched the man he loved sleep peacefully in carefree dreams. He envied the man for the comfort he gave, the comfort he could not give to himself in any way. “Yohji,” Ran whispered, “may you see your lady love in your dreams as you will be in mine. However, may yours be more merciful than mine. In the morning, you will forget the act we have done this night. May you sleep peacefully this night and the nights after. Good night, my beloved Balinese.” With that he left the room of his beloved and went into his room of nightmares.
“Sakura,” get out of here,” yelled Omi as he tried to dodge the psychic attacks of Prodigy.
“Hai, Omi-kun but after I get Aya-san out,” said Sakura as she walked to Aya’s prone body, “Come on, let’s go. We need to get out of here.”
Oracle turned to her and aimed, “Oh no, you don’t.”
“Sakura,” yelled Ran, trying to draw Oracle’s attention back to him.
A bullet was fired but it was not Oracle’s. The bullet fired was Manx’s, in her red dress suit, all turned and Weiss gasped as the secretary of Persia was aiming her gun at Oracle, barrel still smoking. She gracefully jumped down and picked up Aya. She turned to Sakura, “Give me your arm.” Sakura nodded but Mastermind managed to still aim a gun at Manx. Yohji pulled tighter but it was no use as Prodigy was making it harder for him. At the moment Berserker was occupying Omi.
“You are not going anywhere, onna,” said Mastermind, “it is our Master’s will to have that girl.” Yet Manx and Sakura managed to dodge the bullet and escaped.
“Master…” whispered Ran, “It couldn’t be, he’s supposed to be dead, unless…” Ran dodged another punch and parried the next blow. His mind couldn’t compute the information. It couldn’t be, could it?
“It is who you think it is, Abyssinian,” spoke Mastermind, jade eyes glowing.
“Masaka, he’s dead. I saw him die long ago, he couldn’t be alive,” stammered Ran as he denied the obvious truth.
“He is, Fujimiya, he is and he is here and now,” stated Oracle, making contact with Ran’s right cheek.
“He couldn’t be,” denied Ran, trying to block another blow to the stomach.
“Oh but I am, little orchid,” whispered an all too familiar voice in his ear, no…in his mind.
“Ah,” yelped Ken, “What the hell is happening to me?” Ran turned to the brunette, who suddenly became limp like a puppet. It was as if he was held up in midair when there was clearly nothing holding him. His arms were spread to the side, arms dangling at the elbows.
“Ken,” yelled Omi as the brunette started to move toward the smaller blond, claws drawn. Omi moved to the side once Berserker went to join Prodigy.
“Gomen but I can’t control myself, get out of the way,” screamed Ken as he unintentionally tried to slash his boyfriend’s throat.
“See what I could make your friend do, little orchid,” whispered that voice in Ran’s ear, “See I can control him easily, just like your previous team. Remember how I controlled them; remember how you unwittingly killed them.”
Ran shook his head as his sword dropped to the ground and all turned, Schwartz smiled. Ran fell to his knees, hands covering his ears as he violently shook his head. “Get out of my head,” he chanted, “you made me kill them. Get out…get out…”
“But why,” asked the disembodied voice, “Why should I? Don’t you remember that you and I are the same? You are gifted as is your sister. You have the powers of the Ghost whereas your sister is a Healer. You are like my minions, my Orchid; you’re gifted with Satan’s power.”
“You lie,” stammered Ran. Yohji was thrown into a wall before being pinned by Prodigy. The strange force continued to use Ken’s body to attack Omi. “I do not know what you speak of. I am no ghost!”
“But you are; you are the Ghost. Have you ever wondered why you are able to be shot but have no wound? Simple phasing. Have you ever wondered how you can disappear and reappear? Merely teleportation. Face it you are the Ghost.” Then Ran felt something around his neck, a wire, “No…”
It was all like his dream, the dream he had the day he helped Yohji forget. He was entangled in Yohji’s wires as Omi and Ken attacked him. Neither of the three knew what they were doing as the puppeteer was not just controlling their bodies but also their minds. Of to the side Schwartz had been immobilized, frozen, as the puppeteer cut loose their ‘strings.’ They too were controlled, mind and body, by the puppeteer, the man called Shion.
Suddenly, a tremor shook the foundation and the ground collapse. With Ran’s last thought as he fell, he thought, ‘By what power that lies in me, save them even at the cost of my life.’ Then all went white and the descent stopped as Ran passed out.
She ran away from her double, she ran into the woods. She still felt his presence but that was soon fading. She ran until she saw a clearing. She may have been asleep but she was aware of the present because of her power. She had been conscious of the facts that happened during her sleep but she was not asleep this time, she was very much awake.
Then she saw them, like lifeless puppets, her brother’s comrades in arms and their supposed enemies. In the beginning, only she knew they were controlled. Yet now they were all limp but their minds were very much aware, like hers once been, aware of everything.
She leaned down to the lanky blonde that her brother was so obsessed about. Her hand glowed a soft white as she touched his cheek. The once cold cheek grew warm as emerald eyes lost their glazed expression and became more focused.
She repeated the gesture on each of them. Her power of healing banished the immobilizing power of the puppeteer. As once stiff limbs were filled with life, she motioned them to be quiet. “Don’t move, be still. Moving will only do more harm than good.” She turned her focused back to the clearing.
Ran raised his head to the man he had so long ago once favored, his sensei Shion. He knew that Shion was the puppeteer long ago and he knew that the only reason that he was chosen as his student was because he was the god damned Ghost.
Ran looked around his surrounds as much as his immobile head could do. He was in a clearing, on the puppeteer’s invisible mind strings in midair and his comrades and ‘enemies’ were of to one side like mere rag dolls. He heard a voice in his ear, “Naughty, naughty little ghost. It isn’t nice to play hide and seek with an old man. You should know better than that. Esset was only a role to draw you out as was Takatori. Yet you almost slipped through my fingers once again this time…
“You shouldn’t do that. Once I absorb your powers I will be invincible and all will obey me. With your powers and the powers of the Schwartz, I will be invincible. Now like the Christ, you shall be crucified and your power shall be mine.” It was then he revealed himself. He was a lanky man with grey hair and at his side was a black blade katana. He circled around Ran until he was in front of the hanged redhead.
From the depths of his mind, Shion conjured up a wooden cross and pinned Ran against it. White wires tied the limps to the cross, as Ran bowed his head in defeat, this would be his final hour. This he knew and there was nothing he could stop it nor would he do anything. Even as his former sensei paced in front of him, he knew his fate. No help will come to him.
He looked up and watched his sensei, glare at him before feeling it, the knives of darkness. The knives embedded themselves into his wrist, drawing blood by slowing driving themselves in. He was losing blood and fast. He silently watched as the blood dripped down into the ground. Not caring anymore, he raised his head up and watched his life fade before his eyes. He didn’t hear the chant, the puppeteer speak, the chant of the transfer.
gods of life and death
With my blood and final breath
Give me the darkness and light
Of this white hunter of the night
Give me the power of the black
Of this soldier that has no lack
Of pain, sorrow
Give me these gifts of the ghost
The eternal dark GHOST!!!”
Ran watched as black flames started to materialize at his feet before devouring him fully. He screamed in agony as he felt the burnings of the chant begin. His screams were endless like those in his nightmares. Vaguely he heard people calling his name; one voice broke him out of his reverie, his sister’s. “RAN, NO!!!”
He gazed up and into the violet eyes of Aya, the very much awake eyes of his sister. He bowed his head in shame but Aya’s voice still reached into him, “Ran, you’re stronger than that. Fight back, I can’t loose you too, Onii-chan, please fight back. RAN!!!”
Ran numbly looked into the eyes of his sister; the eyes he had so long ago wished to see. In them were the pains and agonies of that he had never wanted her to feel but he knew that it was futile. In his mind, all were going blank except for her voice was now slowing diminishing. There was nothing that could help him.
Suddenly he felt eyes, a different pair, looking at him, imploring him to fight on and not to give up. His head moved and his gaze fall upon Yohji’s dazzling emeralds. In them gave him the strength he needed. Like the phoenix, the amethyst eyes blazed with fury.
“You always looked like your saving the world from the edge of a cliff,” yelled Shion as he stood in front of the pinned Ran. But that was last mistake Shion had made as Ran phased through the flames and out of his bound. He stood right in front of Shion, his hair flashing like a beacon in the black night. His eyes turned red at that exact moment. During that moment, Shion thought quickly on what he must do.
“Not the world, just the good in it,” replied Ran as he phased his arm through Shion’s torso until his hand was just above the heart. His arm solidified and his hand grasped the beating heart before pulling it out. “Adieu, Shion.”
Before the heart was pulled out completely, Shion impaled Ran’s own heart with a knife, “Adieu yourself, you truly are better than I.” Then Shion fell and Ran stumbled for a moment before searching out for his sister. Once he found her, he saw her shocked expression and he looked down and saw the knife in his chest, melding with the skin, becoming apart of it. Then he began to fall backwards and unto the ground beneath him.
“Onii-chan,” yelled Aya running to her fallen brother. Hastily, she kneeled beside him and took the knife out. Quickly, she pressed both hands to the wound but it was futile. The powers of the knife blocked her powers, she couldn’t heal him. Tears flowed like rivers down her face, “No…no…iie…don’t leave me, Onii-chan, please don’t…NO!!!”
Ran looked deeply into the eyes of his sister, watching the tears fall on to his cheek like a small drizzle. He sighed in content. “Do not cry, Aya, please don’t cry. I am not worthy of your tears.” He smiled softly.
“But you are, Ran-Onii, you are,” whispered Aya shaking as the blood steep through her fingers. Ran’s eyes began to wonder and finally rested on Yohji’s.
‘Yohji, I love you, I really do. Please forgive me for all that I have done,’ he thought. He saw Yohji’s eyes widen a little bit and thought that he said that out loud but once he turned back to his sister, he knew that he did not.
He was beginning to feel colder as Omi and Ken appeared at his side. Omi added his own pleading to the fallen redhead, “Please, Aya-kun, don’t leave, we need you. Please. Onegai, don’t leave. Don’t say goodbye.” His own tears mingled with Aya’s. At the sound of shifting feet, Ran got a glimpse of Schwartz coming toward him but Yohji remained in his place, not moving, not coming.
Then he moved and Ran sighed again. Aya was getting desperate now as well as Omi while Ken covered Aya’s hand with his own but their efforts were futile. After all this was his choice, he wanted to die, he didn’t want to live. His goal, his life’s purpose, was finished; he had nothing left to live for. Then his eyes fell once again on Yohji’s. If he had the strength, he would have gasped.
In those emerald orbs, the blonde assassin confessed his love for the redhead. ‘I love you and I don’t want you to live but I will let you,’ they said in silent imploration. Ran nodded once to show that he understood and then he turned to his sister once more and sighed again before saying, “Please smile for me, Imouto-chan. Just this one last time.” Unlike before, this was not a demand but a dying man’s last request.
Then Aya smiled her best smile, though the tears and woe did not make it shine with brilliance but it was still beautiful. Ran smiled and looked at everyone, Aya last. Then he sighed as he let out his last breath. When his eye’s closed for eternity, rain fell from the heavens as if to bid their last farewell and began weeping.
Yohji collapsed onto the ground and wept as well. He screamed a thousand agonies and wished that this was not reality but some nightmare. Yet in the depths of his mind he knew one thing, Reality is only a Nightmare.
Author's Note: YES!!! It's finished and no longer has to haunt me any more!!! But...but... I killed Ran, WAH!!! Couldn't be help... *shrugs and turns around* Hopefully this won't be banned too. Please, don't flame me but I had to kill Ran. If you noticed this does take place in the actual timeline but I changed a few things in the last episode. If you look closely you can see that the weird prophetic nightmare happens after Yohji kills Neu/Asuka and the battle scene with Schwartz is the last episode with a little twists.
Death is my final goal but your smile is my final wish
Squall Morpheus Leonhart
Reality is only a Nightmare
Squall Morpheus Leonhart
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