|Circles and Circles
Author: Phyrefly PM
Kai's late-night reflections on perfection, acceptance, and how to live the life of a machine without wanting to. Sometimes one door can seperate worlds.Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst - Words: 1,634 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 1 - Published: 10-03-04 - id: 2081387
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N – OK, so I should be working on China but instead I got this great idea for a fic (and one that's actually not yaoi, weird) so this is a one-shot that's basically reflection from Kai's point of view. The song that's sampled twice is Cloud on My Tongue by Tori Amos. Enjoy!
I'm already in
Circles and circles and circles again
Circles and circles
Got to stop spinning
The sound of children's laughter echoed through the corridor outside Kai's hotel room. The voices danced with merriment along the scales of the joy of the careless. He could picture his teammates perfectly even though he was sitting Indian style on his perfectly made bed. His eyes glowed gently in the darkness that surrounded him, lights off and silence reigning within the room.
A sliver of light under the door was the only part of their world that reached through to his own.
And, truthfully, Kai would have it no other way. Their energy was almost palpable in the emptiness of his barren room. He'd requested his own room, just this one time when they were in Russia, and he'd received it with little whining. There were two beds in each room anyway, so Tyson and Max shared on bed while Ray didn't complain about sharing the other with Kenny.
Leaving Kai to his own devices.
Kai's world wasn't the kind of world that the others occupied. They were realms apart, and Kai almost felt guilty having to impose upon their light. The other four were all brightness, laughter, and gentle eyes. Kai knew what he was; it had been drilled into him for as long as he could remember.
Kai was darkness and cold, he was winters and guilt and hate, and so many bruises.
He could effortlessly point out the flaws in the other's actions as they cavorted about the hotel. The obvious faults were their loud voices, carrying so easily to enemies, and the footsteps that made Kai's bed vibrate.
The less obvious ones were their impeccable ability to stand out; they all smelled far too strongly of their natural scent, they could never blend in with the anal smell of disinfectant and cleaning products that hovered in the air. They made no attempt to hide themselves; he could already picture the bright clothes and brighter eyes, the 'look at me' attitudes and easy shrugs of indifference to the fact.
The punishments that came from all these different faults also came to him easily.
The voices, the obvious timbre, the lack of conforming to everyone else's ways of speech- that would condemn them to a week of no sleep and getting beat up by your roommate. It was a cruel way of punishment and one to remind them not to become close. Not to feel. The footsteps, 'notice me' attitudes, and smell would involve a whipping and making whoever seemed closest to you suffer through a whipping.
Kai had always hurt Tala.
They'd hated each other by the time he'd left, though only recently was he started to remember why.
Which brought him to the nightmares, the memories, the vague feeling of déjà vu that haunted him damn near constantly now that he was back home. Closing his eyes, Kai realized that the others had vacated the hall and were probably in their room, getting ready for bed. A brief crimson glance at the clock saw the green numbers stating it was a little past midnight.
He sighed. Yet another way in which he felt different, older, more cynical than the others.
And really, that's what it came down to -why he always felt so out of place among them. But maybe he wanted that. Maybe he felt like he didn't deserve to belong, like belonging would be allowing himself forgiveness for the many sins he'd committed in Hell. For that's what it'd been, and none that had gone there would disagree.
The silence in his room was suffocating, but it freed him. He'd been trained to hear the slightest movement, to see and remember the most insignificant object, to feel only physical matter. He'd lived his life in the body of a killer, of a slave, of a little boy. It made him powerful, cocky, and sure of himself -with good reason.
Tyson was all boasting and heart and belief; but Kai was logic, truth and pride. Always pride.
He'd been made to be perfect, they'd taken something that would never be perfect (could never be perfect) and had drilled into him the impossible notion that he'd be able to fight for perfection. That it was attainable
And Kai, well, Kai'd believed that. Kai'd believed them.
He'd spent every moment of his life believing that idea. He'd thought every word through before it passed his lips, calculated every response and reaction of the people around him, watched for every expression that passed their eyes or was betrayed by their bodies.
He was a machine. A machine that was made with a fatal flaw, and was forced to believe it could be perfect if it only tried hard enough. If it only pushed itself more, or took one more punch, braved one more humiliation.
But no, no. Not anymore.
Kai opened his eyes with a sigh. They were all thoughts he'd been through again and again. His body rose fluidly from the bed, barely leaving a crease in the thick material that lay atop it. In only loose pyjama pants Kai crossed the small space to the window.
It didn't have a great view, preferring the landscape of a street and garbage cans to the hills upon hills that could be seen from the other side of the building, but Kai liked it. It wasn't perfect, it just was. It made no apologies for the fact that it was an eyesore to most, and it didn't seem to care that people generally ignored it.
It sounded absurd, but in Kai's mind he envied that street and those garbage cans. He envied the carelessness that comes from being imperfect and accepting it.
Something Kai had never been able to achieve. There was no time when acceptance had been imbedded in his head. No, never accepting, always striving to be better than the best. To be stronger than the strongest, faster than the fastest, braver than the bravest but and never settling for anything less.
He stayed, still and silent in front of the dingy window, for hours. It was another thing he'd been left with, a parting gift he supposed- the ability to stay absolutely soundless and motionless for long lengths of time. His thoughts were never still, however, and they jumped like little insects on a lake from thought to thought. Never resting, he could never rest.
But he was so tired.
After that he looked at the clock, finding that he would get only two hours of sleep before a new day rose and he'd again have to attempt the impossible.
With that in mind, Kai slowly got under the covers and lay on his back, staring into the vast blackness that was the dark above his head.
He would never be able to fit in with the others, and that's really what it came down to. Through the circles and circles of endless monotonous thought that had been examined and picked apart again and again, that's what it came down to.
He was a circle in a world of squares; forever forced to attempt to be something else. To survive in someone else's world.
Though, what had he been in the first place? He'd never known. He would never know. Kai Hiwitari would never be the person he could have been had he grown up differently. Always he would be that boy. The one with the traumatic childhood, the one with the anti-social attitude, the one in the corner leaning against the wall with eyes shut so that he could hear better the sounds of living.
And with that he closed his eyes and let his body rest. He knew the virtues of sleep, had spent long hours learning enough to teach a class on REM and other such nonsense dedicated to dreams and shut-eye. He knew the other's were fast asleep by now, they were spirits that were uncaged by injustice and cruelty.
And Kai? Kai was a machine, and that's what it came down to. He'd forever be a machine, made by others and kept running by their influence that would never disappear. He'd never escape from his mind.
And really, he'd just have to accept that.
Circles and circles and circles again
Circles and circles and circles again, well,
Circles and circles and circles again,
Circles and circles again, well
Got to stop spinning