http://clampfix.fanworks.net/others/sla2.txt </head><body><pre>* * * Something Like an Angel [2] * * * It was late morning--very late morning--when Kazuhiko came knocking. Gingetsu went to the door, already up and dressed, and greeted him with no less enthusiasm than usual. Kazuhiko's eyes were rather red and squinty behind the lenses of his glasses, and he walked so as to move his head as little as possible. "I thought I'd check up on you," he said. "Seeing as we maybe got a little carried away last night." His bloodshot gaze fixed on the mug in Gingetsu's hand, and he practically salivated. "Is that coffee? Is there more?" Gingetsu nodded and went to the kitchen. He returned with another mug and the pot for good measure. Kazuhiko flopped down in his usual place on the sofa, shifting the portable computer aside as he did so, but otherwise--to Gingetsu's relief--paying it little attention. "You're my hero. My coffeemaker quit working last week and I still haven't replaced it." After a long slurp, the man threw his head back and hissed with rapture. "Ah, the elixir of life." Recovering, he leaned forward again and scrutinized his former commander. "You know what? You look better." Gingetsu greeted this pronouncement with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, I expected you to look like shit warmed over, and you do look like shit, but it's not warmed over. Are you?" "Am I what?" Gingetsu rumbled. "Warmed over?" "No, no. Better." "Some." Gingetsu looked away and did not elaborate. He could imagine no way to tell Kazuhiko about what Ran had left behind. But the tradition of hiding things from his concerned and inquisitive friend was a long one, and there was no reason to end it now. The other man nodded sagely. "I knew a night out would be therapeutic. Now, what are you up to today? Is there anything I can do?" "No. I need to take care of some things here." Kazuhiko looked dubious. "I may sell it," he elaborated. "The house." For a moment Kazuhiko fell silent, watching him. "Yeah, I suppose I can see why you'd want to do that. It's kind of big. You don't really need all the space, do you?" "No." "It's in good shape, and the neighborhood's nice. You ought to be able to get a good price for it." "Yes." "Makes a lot of sense. Have you thought about where you want to move?" "Not yet." "Well, just don't rush into a decision." Kazuhiko gulped down the last third of his coffee. "If you need help with anything, call me. I'm running errands today and maybe following up on a lead. Probably nothing, but if I don't check it out..." He stood up. "How about if I come by for dinner? I'll either bring some take-out, or we'll go somewhere." "Fine." "All right, sounds good." Gingetsu was pleased with the effectiveness of his terminal boredom technique; Kazuhiko was making for the door in record time. Then again, no one liked to loiter in a place where the scent of death lingered. "Be back later." He nodded, and Kazuhiko left. For a time he remained motionless, gazing at the closed door through which the other man had exited. All this time, and Kazuhiko was still searching for Oruha's killer. He never made substantial progress--Gingetsu suspected that he was looking in all the wrong places--but that didn't discourage his former aide. Well, he'd always reasoned, if someone had murdered Ran, he would have done the very same-- He stopped the thought, startled at himself. Someone had killed Ran. Or, more accurately, several someones, and he knew, more or less, who the perpetrators were. The only differences were that they'd done it slowly, leisurely, over time, and that even if he sought out the men responsible, there was nothing he could do to punish them. After all, he thought, reaching up to touch his temple, they'd done their work on him, too. Worse, he had agreed to it. He had been willing to pay prices for freedom, first for himself, then for the one he'd taken under his wing. At the time they had seemed, if not fair deals, then at least the best deals he could make under the circumstances. Assurances to Kazuhiko aside, his head ached. He fumbled for the portable computer's cable and fastened it to his visor. For a moment, no one appeared, and he felt a singular terror that perhaps he'd hallucinated the previous night, after all. He'd awakened on the couch this morning, temples throbbing, a lancing pain in his neck from the way he'd fallen asleep, half-sitting with his head leaning back. The computer had been lying next to him, still on, but God knew what illusions he might have conjured in his superbly drunken stupor. Then the door from the kitchen swung open, and Ran emerged, tea cup in hand, smiling. Had he been capable of laughter, Gingetsu might have laughed then. "There's coffee." He nodded at the pot on the table. Ran wrinkled his nose as he sat. "You know I hate that stuff." The fragrance of Earl Grey (milk, no sugar) wafted to Gingetsu's nostrils. That must be part of the program, too, he thought. But no doubt there was still some of the actual item left in the pantry. They'd always had a tremendous supply. Actually, tea sounded very soothing right now.... "You should tell him," Ran was saying. "What?" "You should tell Kazuhiko. About Oruha. About Suu. About me. About you. About what they did to all of us." Gingetsu frowned. This was new. But then, in his current state, Ran could afford to hold viewpoints that differed from those he'd held during life. "What good would it do him? He'd get himself killed." "You don't know that. I think if he had known right away, right after he lost Oruha, then yes, he would have done something gloriously suicidal. But he has more sense than that now." The boy put his feet up on the couch as he so often had, and wrapped his arms in front of his knees. The wings were much more visible in the daylight; last night Gingetsu had thought them silver, but they were instead a dusky, speckled, shimmery beige. Like a sparrow's wings, he mused. Small and ordinary. But then, Ran had never asked to be extraordinary. "And maybe none of us could ever do anything, because we were too caught up in trying to survive. But Kazuhiko isn't one of us. He's outside the Project. Hasn't it ever struck you as strange that although he's not a Clover or anything like, he's known almost all of us, at one time or another?" "Yes," Gingetsu said slowly. "It has struck me, now and again." "I think you should tell him," Ran said again, and took a sip of his tea. His bright eyes watched Gingetsu over the curved porcelain rim of the cup. "You look a little better," he noted. "Ryuu said the same." "I suppose he gives credit to the alcohol." "He does. But it's because of you." At that, Ran put down his teacup. "No," he murmured, and unfolded himself to come and stand in front of Gingetsu. "It's not me. It has to happen here." With one finger he touched over Gingetsu's heart. "I know you're sad," he continued. "I know you need to be sad for a while. But I don't want you to be sad for always. I've never wanted that." He had yet to learn how to deny those gray eyes anything. "I'll try," he said, and snared the smaller hand in his own. The boy looked down at his fingers trapped in Gingetsu's, half-smiling, half-rueful. "You can't keep me forever, you know," he whispered. "Can't I?" "No." Ran's gaze met his levelly. "I wasn't designed for that." Designed--it was so strange to hear it. Nevertheless, he was reluctant to release the boy's hand. "Is there a time limit?" he asked, a little harshly. "No. Nothing like that. It's just that--well, when you don't need me anymore, I'll go." He smiled, seeming perfectly at ease with such a fate. Gingetsu frowned, and another wondering stole into his mind. "Can you...feel everything he felt?" Ran shook his head. "Not everything. That would have been impossible, not to mention counterproductive." At Gingetsu's curious look, he lifted his eyebrows. "You want to know what I can't feel?" He held up a hand and ticked off the emotions on his fingers. "Frustration. Impatience. Anger--never was any good at that, anyway. Sexual gratification." He grinned. "Isn't that cruel? I think I must have been jealous of me. Oh, and I have no desire to cling to existence once my purpose has been fulfilled." "Your purpose..." Gingetsu muttered. It was disturbing, to listen to the boy speak so blithely of such things, though it was true that he was merely a program, the result of a compilation of esoteric code created by the original to be a security blanket, a sort of teddy bear to cling to in the face of a night too scary to contemplate. Shame welled in him at the knowledge that Ran had foreseen his need for such a stopgap from so long ago. All along he had pretended that he was the strong one, that he would bear it. That had been nothing but a facade, and Ran had known it. "Didn't you have things to do today?" He glanced up. "Yes. I suppose so." "You'd better go on, then. And don't forget to eat something." Gingetsu eyed him. "What do you do, when I'm not connected? Are you...still here?" "Sure. I do the same stuff I always did while you were gone. Read, listen to music, play in the kitchen. That's only when the computer's on, though. If you shut it off, I go to sleep." Satisfied, Gingetsu rose to leave, then paused with his fingers on the cable. "Can you still...feel 'lonely'?" The boy exhaled softly. "Yeah. I don't think it's possible to program that out of anybody." * * * It was disconcerting, how little there was to pack. Gingetsu rubbed the soft fabric of one of Ran's shirts between his fingers, remembering Ran wearing it, remembering himself undoing the clasps and sliding his hands beneath it. Ran had always liked having nice clothes. Then there were the various collections of digital gadgetry, most of which were mystifying to him. On the shelves by the wall rested a few books, a few souvenirs brought back from his own and Kazuhiko's travels. Other than that, his housemate had never accumulated a particularly impressive heap of material goods, although Gingetsu had never hesitated to provide him with anything he asked for. Spreading its sleeves out on the bed, he folded the shirt scrupulously and laid it into a box, then reached for another. He wasn't quite sure what to do with the clothes. Donating them to charity seemed to be the best idea. They were all in good condition--when leaving the house was impossible, the opportunities to ruin clothing were greatly reduced. He wished Ran might have had more chances to ruin a few. When he finished the last of the shirts, he sealed the box and turned to look around the room. It was Ran's old bedroom, the one the Three-Leaf Clover had slept in when he'd first arrived. The winged oil lamp from those early days still sat on the windowsill. Later, even after the spare bed became superfluous, Ran had continued to keep his clothing and things in this room, to avoid crowding Gingetsu. It had been a long-cherished worry of his, the fear of getting underfoot, of becoming a nuisance. Gingetsu had exorcised it with patience and reassurance, demonstrating firmly that there was nothing about Ran that anyone could consider a nuisance. He picked up the winged lamp, wiping the dust from his fingertips. It was made of brass, with lovely and graceful lines that had reminded him of Ran when he'd purchased it. He remembered with perfect clarity the sight of a young boy sleeping, his ponytail fanning loosely across the pillow, with the lamp burning as a nightlight in the background. All those times he had come to this room and held himself back, waiting, refusing to enter unless invited, because otherwise it would be far too easy to do wrong. And the lamp's flame had flickered like a smile, teasing, waiting in the window. To sell it would be unthinkable. He wrapped it in tissue paper, and added it to the box of other mementos, most of them small, all of them from places Ran had never visited, and never would. There were a few things, pajamas and such, in the other bedroom, the one they'd shared. Once he packed those, all the small pieces of that life would be neatly stowed away. His own things were even fewer. It would not take long to be ready to leave, and still he had no destination. He found himself wandering aimlessly back to the living room. Outside, the clouds had cleared, and late afternoon sunlight leaped in through the windows with the enthusiasm of a giddy child. How cheerful it all looked, he thought, and wished for more rain. He paused by the sofa, and his hands somehow strayed to the computer. He had barely touched the line to his visor when a winged silhouette appeared by the window, dark against the radiant blue sky, gazing outward. Ran did not turn, so Gingetsu went to stand at his side, bemused anew by the height difference between them. The connector cable stretched out behind him, lengthening as he walked. Ran's eyes were on the city. "Are you going to sell the house?" The suddenness of the inquiry startled Gingetsu. "I think so." "It's a good idea. I'm jealous, you know." "What?" "Because you're really free. You can go anywhere you please now." A mischievous smile. "If you quit work, that is." He stared down at Ran. "Quit? How can I?" "What do you mean?" "They'd never stand for it, if I tried to leave, knowing what I know. And they wouldn't even have to send a sniper for me." Ran gazed up at him with wide, questioning eyes. Gingetsu was astounded. "You must have known. My price, the condition for living with you. They can destroy me at any time." "Oh, the bomb!" Ran covered his face with his hands, mortification creeping into his expression. "I guess--no, I never told you. I didn't know if you wanted me to know, so I didn't make it obvious, but--" he broke off, shaking his head. "Gingetsu, I defused it a long time ago. The control was digital. It was easy to do. And I made a program that would appear identical, to substitute for it, so the Wizards wouldn't be able to tell. Did you really think I'd let you walk around with that thing ticking in your head?" He sounded almost chiding. "If you went far enough away, you might be able to find somebody to take it out, although obviously you couldn't do it around here. Look out for snipers, though." Gingetsu stared at him. "You turned it off," he said, "and forgot to tell me?" Ran ducked his head with charming sheepishness. "Sorry. I suppose I really should have, huh? We could have caused all sorts of trouble." A good-natured shrug. "You can still cause trouble now, if you really want. But I'd rather you got away from here, and tried to live happily." "Happily," he echoed. "Without you." "Well, were you planning to forget me soon?" His silence was answer enough. "So you won't be without me, really." But knowing that the words were of little comfort, the boy leaned lightly against his side and held on to his arm. "I'll be with you wherever you go." Something about the way he said it gave Gingetsu pause. Like a charger scenting the wind, he lifted his head. There was direction here, if he chose to follow. "Where would you go? If you could go anywhere you liked." Ran's eyes went hazy with daydreams, and he tipped his chin wistfully. "The sea," he said at last. "I would have liked that. The sea at night, with stars in it--that must be so beautiful. Like that virtual island program I used to have--except programs are never the same. I wanted to see the real thing...." The real thing. Yes, Gingetsu thought, tightening his grip just a little bit. The sea. And stars. * * *</pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>