Author's Notes: Second part in a massive AU I started. This is where you start seeing a lot more of my own world.
Rating: R
Pairing: Ken/Davis, implied Matt/Tai/Sora
Written: 2003?
Davis was... antsy. Fidgety. Tense. Twitchy. He had been awake since before the sun had risen, and had finally given up on going back to sleep. Which was how he found himself sitting on the window bench, bored and restless, and not quite sure why.
He had been like this for weeks, unable to concentrate on anything for long periods of time without this feeling of restless discontent. Usually, at this time of the year, he was getting ready to play the series of harvest festivals that would come up in a months time. It involved traveling throughout the archipelago and port towns collecting songs, memorizing lyrics, and practicing chords.
Instead he was still at his home, picking out discordant notes on his mandolin and staring at the early morning sun.
"You know, this is ridiculous. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me." Talking to himself was a left over habit from the time when he had been... not all there. His only problem was remembering not to do it around others. It tended to not go over well. "There is no reason for me to be like this."
More discordant notes and minor chords came from his mandolin, a reflection of the state of his mind. Davis sighed and set the instrument aside. "If I'm not careful, people are going to think I've gone nuts again."
Taking the stairs two at a time until his legs ached with the effort, Davis soon reached the top of the lighthouse. A large hurricane lantern filled with whale oil and a concave bronze mirror served as the working parts of the lighthouse. Davis checked the level of the oil. Satisfied that it was fine, he looked out over the ocean. Thick bubbly glass warped the view, turning sea and sky into nothing more than different shades of blue and white
The problem was Davis had a pretty good idea of what caused this bout of restlessness. About a month ago he had been cleaning out the basement of the old lighthouse he lived in. Under some clothing, in the bottom of a trunk he'd found the bracelet with the cracked stone that he'd ripped off the girl who had gotten him out of the institution. Davis didn't know how he'd managed to hang onto it.
The stone was not only cracked, but a piece of it had managed to wiggle itself free leaving a hole in the dark red stone. The inlaid silver had tarnished, though the gold remained as pure as ever. The clasp was still broken, and somewhere along the way a link or two had gone missing. In other words, the bracelet was in pretty bad shape.
None of that had mattered when his hand had closed around it.
He'd been so startled by the broken bits of song that at first he'd dropped the bracelet. The second time Davis had been prepared for the notes. There was a spell on the bracelet, or at least the remnents of a spell, translated into song by his mind. He could still hear the echoes of power if he sat still and really listened.
Star, his teacher and sometime houseguest, had given him a long, involved lecture about why their kind heard magic in the form of song. After the first five minutes, Davis had completed tuned out. After the first fifteen, he'd gone so far as to start doodling pictures in the margins of his notes. He had just added wings to a credible likeness of a chocobo when Star had rolled her eyes and given up.
It didn't really matter to him why he heard magic as music. All that mattered to him was that he did.
In the end, no amount of listening had told him what the spell was supposed to do, how to fix it, or even if it was fixable. The song was too complex for Davis. Since Star still had a few days before she went and did... whatever it was she did when she wasn't teaching him, he'd shown it to her.
"Davis, where did you get this?
"I picked it up somewhere. Why? What does it do?"
"Well, the bracelet itself is just... a bracelet. Someone's put a gate spell on it, though. I think. Maybe? I don't remember ever seeing a spell this badly deteriorated and still intact. It's a wonder it hasn't just unraveled altogether..."
"Star, back to the spell. What does it do?"
"A gate spell? It basically opens a portal... something like a doorway... between two places. They're really hard to do and keep open because they require so much energy. A lot of people create the spells when they have the time and energy and then set the spell on something, like the bracelet. That way when they need to do the spell, they just trigger the one on the bracelet somehow and don't have to actually do the work themselves."
"And the bracelet still has one of those gate spells on it?"
"Kind of. It's got the parts to activate the gate, and the part that remembers where the last gate was from, but the piece that supplies all the power and stuff is really messed up."
"What does that mean?"
"That if you tried you might be able to use it to set a gate up. It would only go to the last place it was triggered though, and you'd have to use a lot of your own strength to get it up. Davis, stop snickering you know I didn't mean it like that. The spell would probably only work one, maybe two times."
"Okay, okay. That means you can use it to go back to wherever the spell was last done, right?"
"Yes."
"Can you show me how?"
For the first time in six years, Davis had a way to go home. Back to Japan and the life that he had known for most of his life. There were problems with going home though. People in his world still thought he was crazy. Maybe in some ways, he still was. That was sure not to go over well.
Then there was the problem of explaining where he'd been for the past six years. "Hi, everyone. I've been living in another world for the past five years tending a lighthouse on a semi-tropical island. I assume I was living in that world for the first year as well but that's all a little foggy to me," Davis said to himself. The words echoed around the lantern room.
"Somehow I don't think so," he muttered. If he showed up after being gone for so long, there would be questions. Too many questions. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was better if he didn't go home.
But... he missed his old life. He missed eating ramen in the shops near his home. Davis missed soccer and television and radio and movies and going out with friends until curfew came and he was forced to go home. He missed fighting with his sister over little things, hugs from his mom, lectures and the good hearted jokes from his dad. Davis even missed school sometimes.
It wasn't any of those things that haunted Davis's thoughts during the night. Ichijouji Ken was the real driving force behind Davis wanting to go home. He shifted slightly as his butt went numb from the hard wooden floor. His eyes slid shut and he could see his best friend like it was yesterday.
"He had skin that was lighter than mine. His hair was blue-black and his eyes were sometimes gray, sometimes blue, and sometimes almost violet. They turned more violet when I kissed him." Davis shivered a little at the memory, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Pretty. Too pretty. But he was nice and kind and had the most hesitant hands when he touched me. I miss him. I want to go back."
And really, that was all the reason Davis needed. He wanted to see Ken. He wanted to be rid of the restlessness that had plagued him for weeks. He wanted to once more remember his old life.
Davis was going home.
*******************************************
Ken had had a good life.
That's what many people told him anyway. He was smart for one thing, having skipped a grade in High School and completed his degree in college in less than three years. This meant that he was already had a secure job before the economy had tanked leaving thousands of college graduates scrambling for work. That was some great planning on his part.
Pointing out to these people that his getting a job before the economy had gone downhill was a matter of luck, not planning, did not help. The nicer ones all smiled and told Ken that that meant he had good fortune as well as brains. The others simply winked and smiled at him, as if they were privy to some great big joke that only they and Ken got.
He understood what they were implying. That he had somehow gotten the job based on something other than merit. Ken wasn't sure how else they thought he'd gotten his job. Surely not through any kind of connections or favors. He didn't make friends easily. He made acquaintances because all you had to do was be nice and polite to make acquaintances.
As for favors... there had been one junior executive, only a little higher up, that had tried to get Ken to do a "favor" for her. There was a small hotel that rented rooms by the hour. If he wanted to succeeded it would only take an hour or two of his time after business hours. If she liked what she saw, he would become her secretary. Then he would be on the fast track up the corporate ladder.
A bruised wrist and a quiet talk in a dark hallway had convinced the junior executive that that was not how he played the game. It was also the last time he got anything above an average on his performance reviews. No matter how hard he worked, how many extra hours he stayed, no note was ever made in his reviews. There would be no promotions anywhere in the near future for him. He was on the fast track to nowhere.
But at least he had a job. Ken was often reminded about how lucky he was to have a job. With the money he made he could afford to move out of his parents' and into an apartment. For the most part he was financially independent. Not many of the people his age that he knew could say the same.
With his apartment came responsibilities like bills and feeding himself and clothing and all the little mundane things that came with having a household. It if hadn't been for his roommate Izzy, Ken would probably have eaten nothing but take out and had crates for furniture the first year he was out on his own. Instead he'd had someone who had done it all before and could show him what to do when things didn't always go as expected.
People told Ken that he'd gotten lucky in that department as well by finding a good roommate that helped him out and actually paid for his share of the utilities. When he'd first told his parents and friends that he was going to find a roommate and move out, they'd been less than supportive.
For weeks Ken heard nothing but horror stories from the people around him. This person's roommate had stolen their cell phone and made long distance phone calls leaving the person with a $500 phone bill. Another person's roommate had somehow always come up a little short when it came time for the bills, forcing the person to come up with the extra money or lose electricity. Yet another person had gotten kicked out of his apartment because his roommate threw loud parties while he was away.
Then Kari had mentioned that her brother's roommate, Izzy, was looking to move out. It had come as something of a relief to actually meet Izzy. Ken had been thankful that he was nothing like Tai, who sometimes reminded Ken too much of Davis. They shared a love of learning, books, and computers. While they never became close friends, they could and did live amiably together.
Yet another thing Ken should be happy for.
There was only one big problem with Ken's life, or so people told him. It was that he got out so very little. He was always at work doing something, or sitting in his apartment working on his computer. Ken needed to get out more and do what people his age did like go to clubs, parties, or out with friends. How else was he going to meet some nice girl to settle down with?
This was always the breaking point for Ken. He was polite but firm about the fact that he was not looking for a girl. People took this different ways. They told him that it wasn't when you were looking that you always found them. Or they told him how responsible he was to want to have his life together before getting into a relationship. A few of the people who had known him for a while even mentioned that Yolei had always been a nice girl. She wouldn't wait forever after all.
Ken had had a good life. Everyone told him so.
So he wondered why he felt like crying every time he looked at the finger-painting that hung in his room.
"I see that there are pictures up on the walls. Is one of them yours, Davis?"
"Yes! Come here, I did this one Ken. This one right... here. The one with the blue and the red."
"Like your favorite jacket. What is it a picture of?"
"I don't know. It's something I see in my dreams a lot."
"I wonder where you are Davis," Ken said as he sat on his bed, staring at the red winged creature the other boy had painted. "I wonder if you still dream of flying things. I wonder if you're all right. I hope you are. I hope where every you are your warm, full, and happy."
*******************************************
Davis was cold, hungry, and miserable.
He was stationed across the street from his parent's apartment, huddled into an alcove to try and keep out of the bitter late winter wind. When he had left the lighthouse it had been early fall. The weather had been warm, but with none of the misery that high summer brought to the island. Davis had not thought about there being a time difference between the two worlds. So while he was dressed slightly on the warm side for the island in early fall, he was freezing his ass off in Tokyo during late winter.
At least it wasn't snowing. Davis shifted slightly, wrapping his arms around himself to try and keep warm. He could see the remains of a recent snow piled up in corners and crannies in the form of dirty slush. His only hope now was that this wouldn't be like one of the magical girl manga his sister liked. The ones where six years had passed for him, but thirty years had passed in Japan.
Finally. Davis pressed himself farther into the shadows as his sister stepped out of the apartment building. Jun didn't look thirty years older than she should, so maybe he was okay. He waited impatiently for Jun to check her purse, her pockets, her hair, and the tie to her jacket. "Come on Jun, stop primping and leave already. It's cold."
At that moment, Jun let the door to the apartment building swing shut. She walked quickly down the sidewalk, but not before taking a phone out of her purse. Jun dialed a number as she walked around the corner. Davis counted to three after his sister had disappeared from sight and then dashed across the street.
Now he had a problem. The door to the building automatically locked. The residents used the keys to their apartments to get into the building. Davis had been counting on his parents keeping the spare key in same place they had when he was younger to get into the apartment itself, but how the heck was he going to get into the building?
"Hello, Motomiya-kun."
"Uh... er... hello Mrs. Watanabe," Davis automatically replied. His mind was racing to come up with some lie about where he had been that would satisfy the old lady. "Did you forget your keys in your apartment again?" The old lady spoke in a tone of voice that indicated she had no idea over six years had passed since this scene had last played out. "Hold my purse for me dear, and I'll get my keys."
"Thank you, Mrs. Watanabe."
"There you go. And next time remember to wear a sweater. You don't need to catch cold," the old lady said as she took back her purse. Davis nodded.
"I will. See you later."
The old lady waved as she continued on her way down the street. Davis stepped into the building with a sigh of relief. The door swung shut behind him. It was still cold, but the building kept the wind out. There was an elevator in the building. He had never used the elevator. Davis turned towards the stairs and began to race up them.
By the time Davis made it to the fifth floor, he was out of breath but grinning. "This really is just like old times. Like I never even left." The empty hall echoed back his words. He counted the doors down until he was at the correct one.
"Here goes nothing." Davis reached up, feeling along the doorjamb for the spare key. On one hand, he could now do this without having to stand on his toes. On the other hand, he still had to stretch to reach the top of the door. He was never going to be really tall but Davis had hoped he'd be taller than this.
After a few minutes of searching the top of the gritty doorjamb, Davis found the spare key. He got it down and fitted it into the lock. A little bit of jiggling, a quick twist of his wrist, and Davis had the door to the apartment open.
"I'm home," Davis called to the empty apartment. There was no reply. Davis hadn't been expecting one. He'd watched his parents leave earlier, an hour before Jun had finally left. He toed off his shoes and left them neatly by the door before hitting a light switch, closing the door and entering the apartment.
"They've... redecorated." It was his parent's apartment. There was no doubt about that. Yet everything was slightly off, different from what he remembered.
Paintings on the wall that he remembered were moved or missing, having been replaced by newer prints. The furniture had changed. The cabinets in the kitchen had been painted. Newer pictures of Jun and his parents were interspersed with the older ones containing him. "Okay, so they've moved some stuff around. Fine. It's been six years. You can't expect them to just stop living because you disappeared. There's no reason to feel so silly over a new sofa and a few missing pictures."
Feeling better after his little pep talk to himself, Davis turned up the heat full blast. There was no reason for him to be uncomfortable while pillaging his parent's apartment. He stood in the center of the apartment for a second, unsure of what to do first.
"Okay. Think Davis. First you need more clothing, so go to your room first. Then food. Then look for money. You're going to need things." That decided Davis headed to his old bedroom.
And almost cried when he saw what his parents had done to it.
His bed was gone. In its place was a desk, covered with neat stacks of papers and a desk lamp. The dressers had been replaced with a set of file cabinets. All the shelves were filled with books and things that were not his own. Davis walked into the room in a kind of shock. He opened the closet only to find guest bedding stacked within. Nothing remained of his old room. It was now a home office.
"My room. My stuff. You threw my stuff away!" Davis yelled to the room. He drew back his foot to kick the wall in but didn't follow through.
Too frustrated to deal with the loss of all his stuff, Davis headed for the kitchen. He had never been much of a cook, but had learned over the years to fend for himself. When Davis checked the refrigerator he found he didn't have to. There was leftover Chinese in the fridge. Life was once again good.
Once the Chinese had been devoured, Davis went searching for money. There was some cash
lying on nightstand in his parent's room, and some loose change in a jar in the bathroom. A
search of Jun's room produced some more money. Davis almost wrote a note telling her that he
needed it more than she did, but stopped himself. No matter how bad he felt taking money from
Jun, he couldn't just announce his presence like that.
Lying on the dresser in his parent's room found something even better that cash. Credit cards. He wouldn't be able to use them for more than a few days, but that would do for his purposes. A quick search of the sofa cushions produced some more loose change. That would have to do.
"But what am I supposed to wear out of the apartment? It's freezing outside." he asked the empty apartment. A sudden evil thought struck him. As Davis headed over to Jun's room, he couldn't help but laugh.