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Perhaps, in another world, he did manage to redeem himself.
It was an instinctive sensation. His body and mind petrified for a second, imitating the deer in front of the bright lights of a car. His lips went dry, the air escaped from his mouth and his irises contracted, but, above all these reactions, it was that oppressive feeling that warned him of a danger of which he himself was unaware. Was it panic? No, it was something far worse: terror. Some animal instinct screamed at him that something was terribly wrong. But what? Why was he so frightened? Aqua bit his lip, not knowing what the source of this almost catatonic state was. He was in his room, in front of his desk and with the light from his notebook screen as his only companion. There was nothing and no one that could unleash such a reaction on him. However, even with such logical conclusions, his heart was pounding: his parasympathetic system insisted that something was not right. Aqua began to get frustrated, why was he reacting like this, why couldn't he control his own body? He is not an emotional person, he calculates his every move and tries to minimize any expression of feelings to the greatest extent possible. He bit his lip hard, seeking a response from his nociceptive nerves and generating pain. Thanks to a twinge, Aqua came out of his trance. He inhaled deeply, clicked his tongue.
"What the hell...?"
Hoshino Aqua knows his mind, understands his behavior and his desires. That is why he recognizes that the only thing capable of triggering a panic-like physical response is when he remembers that event. When he remembers the smell of iron, the silvery sheen of the blade together with the intense crimson of the blood, viscous and sticky, dripping from the blade while the pristine white cloth is consumed by the same reddish color. The stars disappear, leaving a purple void that terrifies him. Everything is consumed around him: the fearful cries of his sister, the touch in his hair, the warmth of a hand on his cheek and—
"I love you."
It's the vibration of his cell phone that snaps him out of that traumatic spiral. He covers his face with his hand, hiding his expression. Going over those details did nothing but unsettle him, it was a stupid idea to try to find a reason for his first reaction. Little more and he ends up having a panic attack.
He sighs. He doesn't want to answer, he doesn't want to. Not in this state. His hands shake a little, he feels his fingertips cold and cramped; he scolds himself for being so ridiculous at this instant. He is sure of his course of action: he is not going to answer.
Fate has never been generous, and Hoshino Aqua believes it never will be.
However, peripheral vision is a feature of human biology, and it is then that out of the corner of his eye he is able to read a name. His chest constricts and that uncomfortable feeling consumes him again. He picks up the device and brings it closer to his ear with more haste than one would expect from him: it is a desperate and uncalculated movement. Even with that, Aqua gives in to his primal instincts for once in his life.
"Arima?" He utters the name with a hint of fear. He still doesn't know why, much less the reason why it is specifically her name that is causing this for him. There is no immediate response, the silence may have been a couple of seconds. He grows impatient, his body telling him he must insist. "Are you there, Arima?" he continues to get no concrete answer. He licks his lips, he wants to say something, to keep insisting that she answers him because she must have called him for a reason, right? Despite this, and with the seconds ticking by, all he gets from the other side is absolute silence. "Arima, what are you—?"
"Aqua..."
Despite what he expected, hearing her voice doesn't relax him in the slightest. The burning in his chest keeps growing and doesn't seem to go away anytime soon. The blond swallows for a second, maybe he really is having a panic attack and hasn't been able to comprehend it. At this point, he should cut the call and start regaining his composure on his own. This is all just unfounded behavior and— "Where are you, Arima?"
He desists from pursuing the path of logic. If he learned anything during his studies in his previous life as Amemiya Gorou, it's that if your body fervently insists that something is wrong, then it must be wrong. And even though he somehow knows that what is wrong has no bearing on him, his subconscious insists on remaining on alert. He shakes his head, hoping to dispel the image of himself, and brings his cell phone speakerphone even closer to listen to whatever information is on the other end. Maybe he's making a mistake, maybe he's just too stressed, maybe he's finally losing his mind. He'd rather confirm that this strange hunch is wrong anyway.
"W-Why do you ask, Aqua?"
There is trembling in her voice, is she agitated? "Just answer it, Arima, where are you?" he's being abrupt, unreasonable and he doesn't care. He needs to ascertain that he's being wrong about whatever it is his body is insisting is happening.
There are labored breaths on the other side, they are irregular, choppy and, above all, very loud. The eldest of the Hoshino twins listens as Arima inhales sharply, with as much difficulty as if she were as exhausted as a marathon finisher. She's never been particularly boisterous with her breathing, he knows. "I'm in my apartment..."
"I'm on my way." It's not a suggestion, not an idea. It's a sure sentence of his next action.
"D-Don't come...!" The redhead exclaims. "It's too late, Aqua." Her tone passes it off as an excuse out of nowhere, like lies told without thinking. "It's... better if you come another day, don't you think?"
His logical mind tells him that he might reconsider all this, that he is acting on mere instinct, that these are actions devoid of justification. Then the memories flash by with fleeting speed, one after another: red, violet, white, platinum, hot, cold, soft words of love—
"No. I'm coming right now."
Aqua is already putting on a coat, at the same time holding his phone against his ear with the help of his shoulder. He picks up some keys and hurries out of his own apartment. Perhaps Ruby or Miyako-san have heard him, later he will explain all this nonsense to both of them. Right now, however, the most important thing for him is to get to the female's apartment, even though he has no idea why. "Don't hang up, stay on call."
"Aqua, I don't think I can..."
Yes, you can. "Just until I get there, okay?" Please.
"Just... hurry up, okay?"
Hoshino Aqua hears her sobbing.
He runs at full speed. His lungs burn, his legs ache, his throat is parched, and the cold air does nothing but beg him to stop and that he must give his body a break from the sudden physical exertion he is putting himself through. It is already past midnight: the buses are no longer running and cabs are not an entirely accessible option, so he has no choice but to continue his run to the redhead's home. He watches as the steam escapes his lips and disappears along with the cold mid-November breezes, his hair gets messy and his expression couldn't be more revealing. He knows it, senses it in the tension of his features, in his slightly wrinkled nose and frown. It is an expression that Hoshino Aqua would not show to anyone, not even to his own sister. Because, as he has made clear on multiple occasions, the more you show, the more vulnerable you are to the rest of the world.
He put those thoughts on the back burner the instant he decided that Arima Kana was the reason for his inner discomfort, the possible cause and reason for it. "Are you still there, Arima?" Despite his swift running, Aqua didn't break away from the cell phone for a second, verifying that she was still listening to him. "Arima!"
"...Aqua."
It's soft, barely audible, lower than a whisper. Arima Kana isn't able to raise her voice any higher, somewhat ironic being her foul mouth is one of her most recognizable characteristics. The blue-eyed boy can't help but clasp his hands tightly together. "Talk to me, Arima."
The once noisy breaths slowed down. "I'm tired... I just want to sleep."
"You'll be able to after I join you, okay? Don't go to sleep yet." He insists.
"I don't think you'll make it—"
He himself doesn't know if he'll be able to, but he knows he must.
"I'll get there, so don't fall asleep."
They don't exchange any more words, no matter how much Aqua would like to insist. He needs to concentrate on making these twenty-eight kilometers concrete, he resigns himself to comparing his choppy, steady breaths to Kana's slow, irregular ones. As he continues to run, ideas and conclusions flash through his mind: noisy and choppy breathing, tiredness, low voice. He thought he heard at some point something akin to a whimper of pain, even.
His teeth gnash, because he doesn't want to. And, though he lost faith in the gods long ago, he prays to the heavens that it is not what he thinks it is.
It is identical. Colors, sounds, scents. So many similarities that it looks like a bloody recreation of what he saw when he was four years old. The clean white stained with extensive puddles of red, a smell of iron so strong it made him nauseous, and a silence that is only interrupted by ragged breathing. Her breathing.
Deep in his soul, he prays that this is a goddamn nightmare. That whatever this image is in front of him is nothing more than his twisted mind playing with his childhood traumas once again. Memories of Ai, his idol and mother in this life, freeze him on the spot: it's so similar, the resemblance reaches such a point that it's sickening. And even with such an affinity present in both scenes, his mind is competent enough to pick up on a couple of discrepancies. It is not daytime, but past midnight. The darkness outside creates a contrast with the intense sunlight he keeps in his memory. Also, there are no petals, only equally white ceramic. But, above all, there is no purple in the atmosphere. Instead, it is that reddish hair that finally makes him react, because it is not Hoshino Ai, but Arima Kana, who is bleeding to death in front of him.
"A...!" His vocal cords are unable to produce any sound. No matter, the blond runs to her before he can think of anything else. "What happened?" his eyes dart across her at inhuman speed, he must clear his mind if he wants to be of any help for at least once in his wretched life. Kana barely keeps her eyes fixed on him. "Arima, did you call an ambulance?"
"N-No..."
He wants to scold her for it, but holds back. He bites his lip as he dials 911: a short call, with just enough information to reach them. After hanging up, he continues to watch the redhead and insists on finding the source of all this blood. "What kind of wound is this...?" Hoshino Aquamarine doesn't remember, no, it's Amemiya Gorou who is strange in front of this injury. He doesn't know what it is, it doesn't seem to be from a sharp weapon; not that he can properly assess it with this mess. "Arima, were you stabbed?"
"Aqua... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"We'll talk about that later, were you stabbed?"
"It was a gunshot."
She'll be exhausted, her vision a little blurry and yet she can still notice Aqua's eyes widen in fright. She doesn't like this sight, this wasn't why she called him, she just wanted to say goodbye and now... "Agh...!" Pain. An external pressure coats her stomach and she does nothing but try to push the source of it away. She doesn't want to cry, not in front of him, but it hurts so much.
"I know it hurts." Despite Kana's feeble attempts, Aqua keeps the thrust of his coat on the actress's lower belly. "It must hurt like hell, but I have to do it."
His words won't soothe her, nor will they reassure hee. Hoshino Aqua has to be a rational and calm person right now, he can't afford to panic. That doesn't mean he doesn't ache to cause pain to Arima, who only manages to grab his shirt with one of her hands, as her moans escape her lips. "Ah... Ah... Agh—!" She wants to get out of there, she doesn't want to feel like this anymore. Make the pain go away... She pleaded in her mind, wanting to push away those hands that were burning her, but knowing that, deep down, what Hoshino Aquamarine is doing is nothing less than trying to save her.
In other situations, in a more fantasy context, Arima Kana would be the first to call the scene romantic and angsty to some extent. Right now, all she can do is focus on that burn and not fall asleep. Her eyelids are heavy; with each passing second, her lungs catch less oxygen; her surroundings spin and the images become blurry. Between the intense white and the creeping red, gold and blue combine in a sea of emotions that, stupidly, keeps her centered.
That Hoshino Aquamarine is there with her causes her heart to pound a little harder, even in her weakened state. Arima noticed how his brow furrowed and his expression quivered, all while still looking at her. She inhaled sharply, unable to formulate her words.
Aqua gasped, still pressing one of his hands on the tourniquet while, with the other hand, he squeezed the shoulder of the girl bleeding out in front of him. "Arima, don't go to sleep."
"Don't..." the syllable is slurred, a strange taste coats her mouth. It's not much, but it's there and it bothers her. Aqua's hand creeps to her cheek. Kana finds it strange that, despite everything, Aqua's hand is still colder than hers. Even with that, the cold is comforting and Arima rests part of her head against the palm. The moment is broken as soon as she feels insistent touches on her face, like pinpricks that make her react. She frowns, dizzy and confused. "Aqua..."
"Don't speak." He ordered. "You have to... You must listen to me. Don't talk and definitely don't fall asleep. okay? I forbid you, you can't." Arima doesn't seem to be looking directly at him, Hoshino Aqua can't help but let out a snap at that. "Arima, look at me." The girl's lips open a couple of times, the air flowing through them is choppy and shallow. Her eyes don't have the usual crimson glow either, but more of a struggle between dullness and flashes of life at times. "Arima!"
Suddenly, a hand lands on his forearm, sweaty and trembling, weakened but clinging with choking desperation. Aqua is quick to respond to the gesture, cradling her hand and squeezing it. Feeling the contact, Kana gasped once more. Aqua's heart contracted.
"I feel sick..." moaned Arima, her head wobbling and gaze wandering.
"Arima, don't speak, please." He said as he listened to her, not knowing how to comfort the girl. "The ambulance is coming, okay? You'll be fine."
"I feel sick." The redhead insisted. Aqua watched her in greater detail, moving a little closer to Kana even when the distance between them was no more than a third of a meter.
The once in his other life doctor began to search for an explanation, the causes for such insistence. Fighting his own state of panic, the blue-eyed boy asked. "All right, all right. Tell me, what's wrong, what do you feel?"
Arima inhaled sharply and looked up at the white lights, not quite sure what her body was warning her. At no point did she let go of Aqua's hand, or rather, he didn't let go. Startled, Kana moaned in pain. The taste built up in her loins, rising up her abdomen and thorax.
Like an operation, the signs present in the last few minutes alerted Aquamarine to an absurdly obvious truth. With desperation and some awkwardness in between, the blonde-haired boy forcibly leaned the redhead's body against himself, hugging her but not without leaving her face clear, pushing aside her bangs and pushing aside the locks stuck at the nape of her neck.
"Don't hold back!" He exclaimed loudly. "Throw it up, now!"
Arima Kana wasn't even able to hear those words, as her body's survival instincts reacted before any remaining logic in her body. Blood spurted like a torn flower through her mouth, with some painful clots and gasps from the unnatural process. Fear dominated Kana's mind, who could only sob as she was unable to hold that thick liquid on her tongue any longer. There was a momentary relief to her chest, yes, but the image of herself in such a... grotesque situation terrified her in an inexplicable way.
She cried, but her body was so weak that even her body did not move in the face of her gasps.
For his part, not much better in perspective, Hoshino Aquamarine saw the remnants of carmine strewn on the white ceramic. An all too familiar contrast even more than a decade later. The difference, however, is that this time he is the one trying to do something. He wants to— he needs to make a difference. Aqua absolutely refuses to allow that tragedy to happen a second time. He vowed to himself that he would not allow acts like this, that Ai's crime would go unpunished.
Even with such convictions so ingrained from his childhood and the loss of his mother and idol, that it is Arima Kana who is the girl he is so desperately trying to keep alive still doesn't quite fit. She has nothing to do with him or his revenge, she's just a girl he knows and that's it.
Something inside him scoffs at such thoughts, mocking at such a poor lie.
"Aqua..."
What part of "don't talk" don't you understand? His disbelief rises in his throat, but the way Kana pronounces his name is enough to shut him up. "Don't... Arima, please, listen to me. Don't talk, you have— you have to save your strength, okay? Don't waste them."
Hearing him, even as she feels her consciousness growing duller by the second, Kana wants to laugh. You're silly, Aqua. She wants to say, but somehow she knows he knows. Or maybe not, Aqua is pretty indecipherable in many situations. "Talking to my friend... it's not a waste."
Lying on top of him, with his head on her, Arima Kana can't see the expression Aqua is making at the moment. However, she does feel the tension lining his body, rigid at times, as when an animal is caught off guard. In the end, when the boy moves again, the only result is one of his hands burying itself in her red hair. Kana's eyelashes flutter against the sensation, a bit of relief amidst so much pain.
She no longer feels her lower limbs. It's not like a cramp, but it certainly feels like her legs are asleep. That tingling that runs through her rises with every sigh that escapes her lips, freezing her to immobility.
She knows that's not right, that not feeling her lower body is a sign of danger. For some reason that Arima Kana fails to comprehend, all of that is put on the back burner when she has Hoshino Aquamarine by her side. Comforting? Romantic? A last companion before... whatever comes next? The sparse warmth that runs through Aqua's polo shirt manages to soothe Kana in ways the boy's words can't. It's silly, she's aware of it, but Aqua has a something that makes her stay still, even when sleep is too tempting an alternative.
She settles in as little as she can, moving her head against the fingers that run along her scalp and feeling the corners of her lips curl from the contact.
Reality seems to merge with unconsciousness, with no clear boundaries separating them. The cloudiness in her view is covered in colorful blotches, a canvas of white and crimson with a center of yellow and blue. Was blue ever such a pretty color?
Surely yes, but she was always too blinded to see it.
Aqua... Thank you.
Thank you for being here.
Take care of everyone for me.
And... take care of yourself, will you?
You'll be fine.
You'll be... you'll be fine.