Assassin! Ishimaru Kiyotaka

Flyday Chinatown!

Kiyotaka laid wide awake in his bed.

The dark grey sheets that normally brought him comfort and ease now felt coarse and drab against his skin.

While his eyes begged to close, staring up blankly at the ceiling of his room, his mind train rushed past his thoughts, falling into oblivion and obscurity. He could barely keep one thought in his mind for a matter of seconds, before falling away into the slowly building fog of muddled memories that threatened to drown him.

No matter what he tried, his eyes remained open, fixated on the singular point directly above his line of vision, though never fully focusing on it.

Whenever they did manage to slip closed, memories of the previous few hours flashed before the darkness enveloping his sight.

The incandescent lights of the night market, bringing a peace soon to be broken. Genocide Jack's face, contorted with rage, screaming the vile things that rolled off her disgusting tongue. The unreadable expression Mondo held as he wrapped Kiyotaka's wound.

He scratched absentmindedly at the bandage covering his forearm, plucking at the loose strings of the loosened tie, feeling the pools of dried blood stiffening the fabric. It still burned like hot pins, except now, it had bonded to the bandage.

He already knew changing and disinfecting it would be a chore.

Morning sun had begun to filter through the flowing curtains draping over his window, catching on the gold material of the small dragon pendant that sat innocently on his bedside table, directly beside the key to his armoire.

His aching eyes tore away from above, turning his head slowly to the obstruction in his view. He narrowed his eyes at the small pendant, finally reaching out to pick it up. As he brought it nearer, the memory of Mondo began to slowly replace the foul cloud that covered his mind. He caressed the textured precious metal lightly with his thumb.

Why did he do that?

Why did he do any of the out-of-the-question, insane, stupid things he did that night?

He still didn't have an answer.

No matter how hard he wracked his brain to come up with an answer, he always drew a blank.

He just.. Didn't know.

Something about Mondo's expression when he caught sight of the small insignificant item made Kiyotaka's chest tighten.

It made his heart race.

He wanted to see it again.

See the way his eyes gleamed, his crooked smile, the flush of his cheeks in the damp night, the innocent joy he held.

He wanted to hear the happiness in his voice.

Maybe he would give it to Mondo as a gift later.

Kiyotaka's small smile he hadn't realized was tugging at the corner of his lips quickly dropped as his thoughts continued.

He set the pendant down again.

No.

That would be stupid.

He settled for getting up out of the crux he had been cocooning in, knowing the thin veil of fabric could no longer shield him from the daylight growing steadily brighter with every passing minute, and most importantly from his intrusive thoughts that clouded his perception and dared to cross the barrier of mind to matter. He sighed, sitting up and pushing the sheet off his shoulders, lifting his arms high above his head, clasping his hands together in a stretch that tugged on all the right muscles. He groaned softly, slowly dropping his arms and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.