Sage froze in the doorway and stared solemnly at the sight before him.
Cye looked back at him, eyes glazed with emotion and fatigue. He had one hand curled loosely around the doorframe and the other limp at his side, and a light breeze rustled their hair as they stood quietly watching each other.
Sage swallowed and cleared his throat, and Cye took the hint and moved back so the blonde young man could step in. He shut the door softly behind him and watched the bearer of Halo look around.
The only sound in the house was the faint ticking of the clock in the kitchen, made louder by the absolute stillness of the rest of the house. The atmosphere felt so empty and lifeless to Sage that it made him want to turn on his heel and walk out.
"Sorry I missed you at the hospital," Cye said quietly.
Sage sighed, feeling a brief flash of irritation. When would Cye learn to stop worrying about everyone else? "Don't worry about me."
Unaware of what else to do, he brought a hand up to Cye's neck, and pulled him in to let him rest his head on Sage's shoulder. He could feel Cye trying to collect himself, letting out a shaky sigh and slowly breaking Sage's heart.
"Have you called your sister?"
Cye shook his head no as he pulled away. His eyes held a fine sheen of tears, but he rapidly blinked them back and cleared his throat. "No, I haven't been home that long." He shifted a little uncomfortably. He had thought about it; had stared at the phone, and reached his hand out to pick it up. The closer his hand got to closing over the phone, the more it shook, and he couldn't do it. He wanted to give Sayoko a little more time . . . a little more of the comfort of thinking her mother was alive and well. False comfort. But he didn't want to crush that reality just yet. He just wanted to give Sayoko a little more time. Maybe he could call her tomorrow? It was late, and she was probably getting the kids to bed. Could he really call her house, disrupt her night? Did she even know mum had been in the hospital? Would it come as a complete shock? Would she start crying in front of her children?
Cool hands closed over his own, and Cye jerked in surprise. Sage was looking at him. Had his hands been shaking again? The bearer of Halo's expression was hard to read, but Cye knew he was concerned.
"I'm all right," Cye said.
Sage raised an eyebrow, but decided to let that blatant lie go. They both knew he was anything but.
"Would you like me to?"
"No," Cye shook his head. "I'll . . . I will do it." When Sage looked at him almost expectantly, he felt the irrational anger of a child being forced to do something he didn't want to. Did he have to call his sister right now? Did he have to hear her start to cry on the phone now?
"Cye," Sage said firmly, and then gentled his tone. "You have to call."
Cye's jaw tightened. Yes, he knew he had to. He just didn't want to say it out loud to one more person. Sage walked over to the phone, picked it up, and brought it to Cye wordlessly.
He took it, and as he slowly dialed the numbers of his sister's home, he felt Sage lay a hand on his shoulder. Cye focused on the warmth of his friend's hand through his shirt as the phone rang. And rang. And rang.
"She's not home," Cye whispered. The answering machine picked up, and his sister's voice declared that no one was home and to leave a message. When the beep indicated for him to speak, he momentarily froze with his mouth half open. Shaking himself out of it, Cye spoke. "Hello, Sayoko, it's your brother. You . . . Can you call me when you get this? It's about Mum. Just . . . call me when you get this. Bye." He hung up. He would not tell her their mother was dead through a voice message. He would tell her himself.
"Where would they be right now?" Sage asked quietly.
Cye shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure. That . . . I mean, that wasn't too vague of a message, was it? Should I have –"
Sage shook his head, one pale iris settling back onto Cye. "Don't do this, Cye. It was fine. When she gets it, she'll call you."
At that moment, Sage felt his phone go off in his pocket. He pulled it out, looked at the small screen to see the caller, and flipped it open. "Yes, Ryo?"
Startled, Cye stared at the blonde young man. "You called Ryo?"
Sage held up one finger to shush him, and for the first time that day, Cye felt a twinge of amusement.
"Why don't you have a car?" Sage listened, both eyes exposed as his hair was pushed back to accommodate the phone at his ear. He was looking impassively at Cye as Ryo's tinny voice talked on the other line, and Cye looked back with interest. He didn't know why some people at school had always gone on about Sage's eyes being a little frightening. The color was quite fascinating, but then again, maybe Cye wasn't intimidated at the moment because Sage wasn't really looking at him.
Sage caught Cye staring because he gave him a peculiar look, and Cye smiled a little and shook his head. Sage looked faintly amused before tuning Ryo back in.
"I'm on my way." He gave a sigh as he flipped the phone shut and placed it back in his pocket.
"I didn't know you'd called Ryo," Cye said.
Sage nodded. "I caught him in the middle of an exam. He walked back, and I guess his car won't start. I'm going to pick him up."
"That's a long drive," Cye said worriedly. "Are you sure –"
"If I didn't pick him up, Cye, he would walk here. He wants to be here." Sage gave Cye a meaningful look, before adding, "Do you want to come with?"
It sounded very tempting. But . . . "I'd better not. Sayoko might call back, and Kento might show up."
Good, Sage thought. Then Cye won't be alone for very long while he was gone. "All right." He walked to the door, and Cye followed him. Sage paused in the open doorway, and looked at Cye. "Eat something. And don't wait up for us. You will not be awake at three in the morning, understand?"
Cye shook his head, trying not to think that the comment was something his mother would say. "Yes, Sage."
And then he was alone in the house.
When Sage had been inside, he had felt better. Calmer. Sage had a particularly soothing presence at times because of his serene disposition, and this was one of them. But with the blonde young man gone, the house felt darker and quiet.
Oh, it was so quiet. Cye moved from the foyer to the living room. He had only been home for maybe fifteen minutes before Sage had arrived, and in those fifteen minutes he had not left the living room. Everything was clean except for the papers he had scattered on the glass table in front of the couch. Papers the hospital had given him. And the coroner. They had called the coroner for him, and said they would take care of it. That he didn't need to be there. He hadn't wanted to see them take his mother away, anyhow.
The hand around his heart curled into a fist, the grief squeezing and weighing it down until he wanted to crawl in a hole to escape it. Cye was once again aware of the pressure on his chest that hadn't really gone away since the hospital called him. The house was so quiet. It was simply unreal. This could not be happening – not to him, not to his family. He couldn't really be the only occupant in this house now.
Stop it. Cye took in a few deep breaths. He couldn't go down that well now. It felt like a hot coal – something he couldn't touch. He couldn't touch on what was really happening without rendering himself dysfunctional. He had things to do.
But he didn't, really. He hadn't packed anything from school to come home – as he recalled, he'd just hopped in his car and drove home with his keys and his wallet. Nothing else. So he couldn't unpack. And he wasn't hungry. Or tired. He couldn't clean, either. His mo-
No. Cye put a hand to his forehead and took another deep breath. Go through the papers. Something to do. Besides listening to that incorrigible grandfather clock tick away in the corner of the living room.
That clock drove him crazy. But she loved it. So he put up with it, because she liked it so much, just like she liked those plum purple drapes that Cye had insisted looked nauseating against the color of the walls, but he put them up anyways because she liked them and it made her laugh when he made fun of them.
Oh, God. What had she ever done? What had she done but love? She was the kindest, most gentle soul, and he loved her so much it hurt to breathe when he thought about going on without her. He wanted this nightmare to be over, but he knew it was just beginning. Cye fought for control over the overwhelming misery, and he was horrified to find that he was only moments from breaking down in the middle of his living room.
He took in another few ragged, deep breaths, a sob catching in his throat before he swallowed it back and rubbed at the tears in his eyes. Cye pursed his lips shut in an effort to keep them from trembling, and he slowly walked over to sit down on the couch. The grandfather clock chimed the hour.
Cye never could cry silently.
Kento almost nailed some guy's car when he turned the corner onto Cye's street. "You have a driveway!" Kento yelled at the darkened house. "Use it!"
He shook off that little scare and slowed the car down before pulling up in front of Cye's. Turning off the engine, Kento let out a whoosh of breath before getting out and walking up the sidewalk, jingling the keys in his hand. His palms were sweaty. He was really surprised he didn't get a speeding ticket driving here, and he was pretty sure that if a cop had tried to pull him over, he would have just kept driving and they would have arrested him in front of Cye's house.
Kento didn't bother knocking, and let himself in the unlocked front door. He closed it quietly behind him once inside, and took a quick glance around the living room and what he could see of an adjoining hallway. Was Cye in his room? He almost yelled out Cye's name, but thought better of it and made his way down the hallway on the first floor, taking a quick peek in the kitchen before moving on. He looked into the first room on his right.
Mrs. Mouri's pottery room. Renewed sadness overcame him at seeing the empty stool and some of her completed vases on the walls – and some uncompleted vases on the shelves. "Oh, man," Kento murmured to himself, and had to turn away.
He found Cye at the end of the hall, where a smaller den was located. Mrs. Mouri used to use it as a play room for Cye when he was a kid, and now it was where he and Cye watched movies and played video games.
The TV was dark, and Cye was sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by papers and a pen in hand.
"Cye."
Cye looked up from his Indian style position on the floor and immediately spotted the large form of his best friend in the doorway. Dark blue eyes peered down at him, heavy with sympathy and a grief of his own. "Hey, man. How you holdin' up?"
Cye nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet. He didn't feel like getting up, so he remained on the floor, surrounded by the various papers.
Kento only hesitated for a split second before walking slowly up, nudging a few of the papers out of the way with his foot before sitting down in front of Cye. The young man's coppery brown hair was tousled, as if he'd just woken up, and his face was incredibly pale and drawn. Kento's heart beat painfully for his friend. He couldn't imagine what he was going through, but being his best friend helped him understand just how agonizing this was. His normally calm and contented green eyes were wounded and filled with misery, and it broke Kento's heart to see it.
And it made him angry. The news was like getting hit over the head with a brick. Mrs. Mouri was never in the best of health, but dammit, she was only fifty-two! It made him mad just as much as it saddened him that something like this could happen to such good people. To such a good woman.
Kento's thoughts turned to past memories he'd had of the brown haired woman with the smiling eyes that ran her household with a firm but loving hand, just like his mother; only less loud, and she didn't hit her firstborn with a spoon. Mrs. Mouri had always been on the thin side, and was a good four inches shorter than her son, but one word from her and Cye - hell, all of them, were ready with a 'yes, ma'am', and if she wanted something done, it was done. The young man felt his eyes start to burn, and he pushed those thoughts away and focused on the hunched over form in front of him.
Cye had his head down as he looked over some papers, occasionally flipping them over to read the backs. Kento was pretty sure he wasn't really reading them, but decided not to comment. His eyes wandered to the heads of the forms. "Where's Sayoko? House is pretty quiet."
Cye stiffened slightly. "I haven't gotten a hold of her yet."
Kento's brow furrowed. "Really?"
"Left messages. She's probably on her way."
Kento breathed out through his nose in frustration. He felt so helpless; how could he help Cye? What did he say now? I'm sorry? He knew that nothing he could say would lessen the grief his best friend felt, and it tore at his heart to know that there was literally nothing he could do.
But . . . brightening, Kento shifted into a similar Indian style position. "Did you tell any of the other guys?"
Cye's brow furrowed, and he paused from the paper he was looking at from the hospital. "Only you. Sage knew . . . his mother works at that hospital. And he told Ryo. He's picking up Ryo now. Rowen –"
Kento allowed himself a small smile. "Don't sweat Rowen, I already called him. He's on his way, too."
The bearer of Torrent looked up in surprise, meeting Kento's compassionate blue eyes with his own lost sea green ones, and then he smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Kento."
"Hey, what are best friends for?"
Cye gave him another small smile that spoke volumes to Kento of how thankful he was for his presence. Moved, Kento reached out and laid a hand on Cye's shoulder. "We'll get through this. You'll get through it." He reached up and briefly roughed up Cye's hair before pulling away.
He shook his head and tried to fix Kento's handiwork, sparing his friend a slightly annoyed glance, to which Kento only grinned back. Cye turned his eyes back on the paper as he thought about what Kento said. Would he get through this? Every time he tried to imagine dealing with this and 'getting over it' he couldn't do it. It made him sick to think about going on without her.
"I don't know, Kento." His voice came out in a whisper. The heaviness on his chest was swelling, crawling into his lungs and making it hard to breathe. "I don't know if I can. This is unbelievable."
Frowning and frustrated, Kento ran a hand through his dark gray/blue hair. "I know, man. I . . . dude, I don't really know what to say, you know? I mean, I know if it was my mom, I wouldn't want to hear shit, but . . ."
"I know," Cye said quietly, tiredly. He was so fatigued, but he couldn't sleep. "It's all right, Kento."
That wasn't good enough. It wasn't all right. The circles under his best friend's eyes weren't all right; the fact that his mother was dead wasn't all right. "I mean, is there anything I can do?"
There was a brief moment of quiet before the doorbell rang. Cye looked over to the wall that separated the room they were in the front parlor. "You can get the door for me."
Snorting, Kento swiped out at Cye's head playfully, foolishly pleased that it got a ghost of a smile out of his friend. He got up from the floor and jogged lightly from the room to the front of the quiet home. Way too damn quiet. The muscular young man pulled open the door and met the worried blue eyes of a tall, lanky young man with shockingly blue hair and wrinkled clothing.
"Drove like a maniac, didn't you?" Kento said in response of his quickness to arrive, and they gave each other a hug.
"Didn't you?" Rowen retorted. He pulled back and glanced quickly around the neatly kept house. "Where is he?" he asked in a lowered voice.
Kento jerked his head to the right. "In the next room, looking over a ton of papers from the hospital, stuff like that. Sayoko's not here yet."
Rowen's frowned. "She hasn't heard yet?"
"I guess Cye's left messages for her, and he hasn't reached her yet."
"How is he?"
Kento didn't have to say anything. The sorrow in his eyes was telling, and Rowen's own eyes darkened with sadness. How messed up was this? Right out of the blue, and she was gone, just like that. No one deserved that.
"This is shit," Rowen couldn't help but express bitterly.
As he was thinking the same thing, Kento nodded in full agreement. Rowen sighed heavily and tugged off his jacket, slung it over a chair a few feet away.
"I think we should stay with him," Kento told him, voice lowered minimally.
Rowen looked over, blue eyebrow raised. "No, really Kento? And here I thought we were going to wish him the best of luck and leave."
"Asshole," Kento said simply. "I meant the night. I don't think he needs to be alone. Where were you planning on staying?"
Rowen frowned. "Hadn't thought that far. Probably my mom's apartment. Here's fine, I guess, but I wasn't counting on it. I suppose it'd be better if we stayed here with him." The blue haired young man watched Kento nod and stretch. In light of all that was happening, the bearer of Hardrock was turning out to be quite a reliable source. It was apparent he'd voted himself temporary mother hen for Cye. Good, Rowen thought. He was right - Cye didn't need to be alone.
"So what exactly came first?" Rowen asked quietly.
Kento let out a long breath. That feeling of uselessness was coming back as both stood in the parlor, nothing to do but dwell on the darkness that had crept into their friend's life. "I guess they're not entirely sure. The accident was in motion, and then she had the heart attack. Hit the pole."
Rowen winced. God, it sounded so terrible. Kind, generous Mrs. Mouri helpless during that accident, having that heart attack and nothing she could do about it. "The trauma of the accident probably triggered the heart attack. Cye always said her heart was fairly weak. Her hand might have jerked the wheel right into the pole while it was going on."
"Christ, that was more than I needed to know," Kento shot the other a pained look.
"Sorry," Rowen mumbled. He was so tired from driving all night, but the sadness had been keeping it at bay. The two glanced at each other before moving to the room Cye was in unspoken agreement. Kento entered in first, and Rowen spotted the water-loving bearer sitting Indian style on the floor, staring listlessly at a spot on the floor with a piece of paper on it.
"Hey," Rowen said softly when he got close enough. Cye lifted his head from where it rested on his fist, and the bearer of Strata was slightly startled to see drying tear tracks on the young man's cheeks.
"Cye, buddy, maybe you should leave the papers alone for now," Kento commented, his voice soothing as he laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's pretty late, and Sage probably won't get back here with Ryo for another few hours."
Cye shook his head, unseeing. "Wanna get this out of the way now, Kento. Have to meet with some people about the . . . funeral." He almost choked upon that word, and had to take a long minute to force back the lump that had welled up in his throat.
Rowen shifted, uncomfortable with his friend's agony and just as helpless as Kento with what to do about it. He studied Cye's lean, hunched over form, and an idea slowly planted in his head. "Have you eaten lately?" he asked.
Cye paused, trying to remember the last time he had. He couldn't, but his stomach was reminding him that it had been a while. "No. Haven't . . . been to the kitchen."
Rowen put his hand on Cye's head momentarily. "How about I fix us a late night snack while you finish up in here?" Cye nodded in agreement. "What would you like?"
"I don't care," he commented dully.
The blue haired young man pursed his lips. "I'll probably just make some sandwiches. What kind of meat do you want?"
"It – it doesn't matter, Rowen," Cye sighed tiredly. His mind felt frayed at the edges, like he'd been functioning for way too long. "Just . . . whatever you feel like, I don't care."
Rowen and Kento exchanged another look before the former turned around and walked towards the kitchen. Kento squeezed Cye's shoulder one last time with, "I'll help him. We'll be right back." He followed after to the back of the house where the kitchen was.
Cye watched them go; one stocky, looking scruffed and wearing the same shirt Cye was sure he'd been wearing for a few days, and the other slightly more refined despite the wrinkled shirt and bright blue hair falling anyplace it wanted. It made Cye feel a little better.