The music pounded through the speakers as bodies crushed onto a dance floor that was almost too small struggled to make enough room to move. The noise was close to being deafening as people at the bar struggled to carry on conversations. They were in no danger from the dancers; the bar was elevated above and around the dance floor, creating a sort of second floor with the middle missing, replaced only by air and displaying the dance floor. The bar wrapped around and covered three of the four walls. The final wall was were the DJ was, and where you went to request music. It was separated from the bar on either side by a “bridge” that connected the two. There was no way to get to the DJ booth from the lower level; you had to use one of the steps leading up to the upper level, and then go across the bridge. Annoying, yes, but not many people on the dance floor cared. They were content to dance.
Rukawa held the small shot glass in his hand, his first and only drink, just staring at the brownish colored liquid. For some reason he didn’t want a drink; he more or less just wanted something to hold in his hand. He was trying to remember what happened last night. It bothered him that he couldn’t remember, because he normally had such an extraordinary memory.
*Maybe if I stop trying to remember, I will.* He thought, moving his hand at the wrist in a rotating motion, spinning the liquid around in the glass. *OK, let’s try and think of something else...* He put the glass down and looked around the bar, suddenly slightly interested in who all was here. Which was more interest than he had for his drink.
His icy eyes scanned over the mass of moving bodies, taking in the different types of people, from the ones wearing skimpy leather, to the ones wearing casual flannel, to the others that looked like they couldn’t breath in their tight clothes. Rukawa shook his head and looked down at his clothes briefly; a dark blue sweater that he was told brought out the clearness in his eyes, to his semi-loose jeans, down to his sneakers. Shrugging, he looked up again and caught a flash of copper-colored hair.
In a flash something came to him; a blurry image of a red-haired boy standing in the middle of a room that looked like a pub, a glare marring handsome features, looking around the room at the people lining the walls.
As Rukawa blinked and tried to focus on the other people to get a clue as to what was happening or where he was, it was gone. He was left only with the image of that red-haired man, and the glare focused on an unseen group, in a pub that a second ago he didn’t know existed.
Rukawa sighed and stood up, abandoning his drink and contemplating the idea of dancing. By himself, though? What the Hell, he’d always been a loner. All through middle and high school he’d done things on his own. The only thing he was willing to do with a group was play basketball, and whenever given the chance to play one-on-one, he took it. He liked the self-reliance feeling he got; he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
Maybe that was one of the things that bothered him about Kiko. She was always so determined to do *everything* for him. And while it was nice to have someone else do the dishes or clean, for once, it was annoying to have a person follow you around day and night and insist that you almost never lift a finger. At one point he had the feeling that if she could, she would have done his job for him.
And, there was still that fact that she had cheated on him. Probably not only that one time, either. That was just the time he had discovered it, though looking back on it now, there were subtle clues to her behavior. When they had started going out, she was a sweet person, true. She acted like such a good girl. But about a month after they had started going out together, she had offered to sleep with him, which he had refused. He treasured his virginity, and wasn’t willing to give it up to anyone except his future lifemate. Maybe that was going to be her, he had explained, but if so then she could wait until they married. She had buckled under this, but a few weeks later she offered again. And again. And again. He remembered thinking her a slut, and apparently he was right.
Rukawa shook all thoughts out of his head and walked down the steep steps, making room for a couple of multi-pierced, leather dressed girls to get by, marveling at how they managed to make it up the stairs in those ridiculously high heels. He rolled his eyes and found a discreet spot on the dance floor, not really caring if people stared. He began moving gracefully to the music, those years of basketball contributing somewhat to his easy movements, he supposed.
He had been moving gracefully (he didn’t believe he was capable of actually dancing) for about an hour when something caught his eye.
A girl, stunningly beautiful, with soft blonde hair that cascaded down to her shoulders and warm blue eyes, was standing in the corner of the room, surrounded by three guys. She was dressed casually in a pair of blue jeans and a button down shirt.
Of course, Rukawa didn’t really notice her. Or the two incredibly familiar guys with her. No, what he noticed was the other guy. The one that stood out like a star against a velvet black sky. The one with the coppery red hair. The one with the brown-silver eyes.
He stopped moving as something came back to him, a dim image that gradually became clearer as he stood there, like someone lighting a match and extending it out into a pitch black cavern.
He was drunk, and stumbling down a street he had never seen before. He couldn’t make out any specific details; ahead, he saw a neon light, a sign he couldn’t quite make out. He stumbled into a place that looked to be a pub. He sits, and looks at the bartender.
Rukawa cried out at the mental image and moved backward as if trying to get away. A few people around him looked at him funny. He struggled to catch his breath as images raced through his mind, all the missing memories flooding back to him as if it were a river breaking through a dam.
Sharp canine teeth...fangs...stained with blood. Claw-like hands grabbing for him, ripping his jacket and shirt off, scratching his chest. Rukawa’s torso began to hurt as the memories came to him, and he groaned slightly. More people were watching him now, and some were walking towards him.
His eyes were wild as he saw the fangs coming towards him, felt someone pull his head to a tilted angle, exposing his neck. His breathing was heavy, unable to fully see the people in the club with him.
Then, suddenly, they were gone, and the man filled his vision; the red-haired angel. He spoke, said something, and suddenly, it was all gone. All memories planted in his mind, but nothing more. In a whoosh, the pain in his chest was gone and his breathing normal. He looked around with the same calm expression he always had. Not many people were watching him, but those that witnessed the ten-second spectacle parted to let him through, throwing him concerned looks.
Rukawa knew what he had to do; the bombardment of memories was triggered by the red-haired boy talking with-
“Shit!” He said, stopping halfway there, almost unable to believe his eyes.
There, talking with the red-haired boy, was Kogure, Mitsui, and some girl he had never seen before. Maybe one of the three’s girlfriend? The thought struck something inside Rukawa. HE thought about it for a moment and determined that he didn’t care about Mitsui or Kogure having a girlfriend (though it had seemed to him in high school they were a couple), but the thought of this boy he barely knew having a girlfriend...disturbed him.
He continued making his way towards them, coming in behind the red-haired boy and listening quietly as the girl continued her rapid speech.
“And so then he turned to me and said, ‘Well, you were always boring to have around anyway,’ and that’s when I slapped him.” She finished, taking a quick gulp of air. Mitsui and Kogure mumbled something as Mitsui wrapped his arms around the taller boy from behind, placing his chin on Kogure’s shoulder.
Kogure noticed Rukawa first.
“Rukawa? Rukawa Kaede?” A smile broke out on his face as Mitsui and the girl made eye contact with him, and the red-haired boy turned around.
Rukawa swallowed a gasp as the rest of his memories flooded back to him; the way the people went flying away from him, the way the red-haired boy had sent a man flying into a wall without using his physical body, the way his voice rang clear in his mind, telling him to sleep, to forget.
But mostly, he remembered his name.
“Hi.” The red-haired boy smiled. “I’m Sakuragi. Sakuragi Hanamichi.”
TBC