CounterSpin by purple jellybean hoarder

Warning: uh…everything? (jk)

Disclaimer: If only...pfffft! I also unfortunately don't own the lovely poem Lullaby for the Cat by Elizabeth Bishop.

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A psychokinetic— a psychokinetic of all things!

Well that changes everything, doesn't it?

Inui allowed himself a small smile before entering his dark apartment. What an unexpected turn of events. Judging from Tezuka's face, even he was caught unaware. And that was no ordinary feat.

Tensai Fuji Syusuke continues to live up to his name.

He kicked off his shoes and proceeded to crash onto the couch by the window. The dinner had left him excited yet oddly drained. Echizen had been confused and scared amidst the storm of talk and wonder, unable to make sense of what just happened. Inui had looked at him then, so small and fragile, insignificant in the eyes of many and probably to Echizen's own eyes as well.

If he only knew.

The initial surprise eventually melted away and everyone shifted their focus, eagerly jumping at every opportunity to convince a very shell-shocked youth to enter the Institution, despite the awkwardness of it all.

He chuckled lightly. Ah, that was to be expected. Telekinesis was a rare gift and like all psychic abilities, needed to be properly fostered before reaching to its full potential…

Beep, beep, beep

Inui raised himself from the leather couch and looked at the little flashing light on the videophone with a frown. Now that was another unexpected thing. No one would normally call at this time of night. He pushed the button for talk.

"Is the line secure?" The voice was hoarse and muffled with static.

"It is now."

The blurry picture on the screen gradually cleared and Inui found himself staring at a familiar face.

"Hm, I'll say a 90% chance that you called for personal business and not to report. I must say I'm surprised to see you so curious. But shouldn't you be more careful? What if someone happens to eavesdrop on you?"

"Fuushuu. Everyone's too busy licking their wounds instead of planning for the offensive. It's quiet, for now."

Inui leaned back in his seat. "And here we were so tense for no reason at all."

"How is the kid?" The question held some animosity to it.

"Coping, I would suppose."

"Senpai," Kaidoh cut in suddenly, "is he really what we have been searching for?"

There was a pause as the other considered the question. "There is something there. Even I, with my weak art, sensed a connection."

"…but it's not enough."

"I didn't say that. What gave you that idea? Has that great hope you once held died?"

"…"

"It is something that is difficult to detect and poorly understood. Have a little more faith, won't you?" He stared at the face now with hesitation and uncertainty. "You will return to Earth again, so no worries—"

"Who said I was worried!"

Inui gave a wry smile. "Really? For a moment I thought those deluded buffoons had finally got to you. Momo wouldn't let you hear the end of it." He silently relished the disgusted look on the other's face, but immediately sobered. Now was not the time for jokes. "As for the boy, everything will unravel soon. He is to be presented to Headquarters tomorrow. He apparently has a psychic gift."

Kaidoh looked intrigued but sounded skeptical. "No way."

"I'm not kidding. He is indeed someone worthy of attention—" Inui tilted his head a little from the screen, as if recalling some distant memory, "—and someone worthy of reviving a long lost dream. We have reason to hope again." He turned back to Kaidoh. "It is only the very beginning and there is a long way to go. But don't be disappointed. We expect great things from him. Because with due time and gentle guidance, he will become that very dreamweaver we have all esteemed him to be."

---

Under the bright lights of a large and otherwise quiet canteen, someone was having a dilemma.

Or rather…

To nya or not to nya.

That was the question.

Eiji stood a little off from the counter, overlooking two boxes of baked sweets, arms akimbo.

"Hmmmmm….hm."

He turned his head, eyes scrutinizing. The strawberry Danishes were looking quite enticing, with their delicious pastry top and mouthwatering sugared strawberries peeping from underneath the folds. They're warm too, he noted as he felt the box, so maybe, they would be better.

As in, better than those small tantalizing cinnamon rolls that were currently luring him with that light spicy aroma and rich creamy filling—

"…Nii—NYYYAAAAAAAAA!"

"Eiji, what are you doing?"

"Eh?" He spun around and lowered his arms. "Ah, Oishi! Come, come! Tell me what to get!" Eiji grabbed the other's sleeve, hauled him over and started to ramble in his animated way as he looked over Oishi's shoulder. "See? Now, with the Danishes, I can get the best of both worlds: strawberry and pastry, and they're warm, so that means that they are fresh. Well, actually, both boxes only recently got here, so that's beside the point. Or I should try those delicate looking sweet rolls instead? Afterall, I had blueberry Danishes only yesterday and life is so boring without variety. And look! There's more Danishes than cinnama rolls left! And you know what that means! It means that the rolls are obviously better and yummier and more scrumptious—

"—Eiji, why don't you have both?"

He stopped. "Say what?"

"I said," Oishi repeated patiently, "why don't you take both of them."

"But…nya! I can't ruin my appetite! I want to try that new chocolate pudding after!" And with that said, Eiji broke into another round of debate.

Oishi watched with a smile. He almost wanted to slap himself at the absurdity of all this. Almost. Eiji was really adorably greedy when it came to sweet foods and desserts, despite the fact that it was already late afternoon.

"Here, how about this—Eiji, stop— we can split half of each, so that way, you can enjoy that pudding as we—wah!" Whatever Oishi had left to say, it was knocked right out by the turbulent force of spunk and intensity that was Kikumaru Eiji.

"Really? Ah, thank you, Oishi!" Eiji gave a happy laugh and hugged tighter, allowing his emotions to seep more easily. His eyes then softened and playfully bumped his forehead against the other's before leaping away to snatch a knife from the drawers.

A few minutes later, both sat down at a small round table, each munching on their treats.

"I wonder how Ochibi's doing," Eiji quietly broke the silence as he steered the half finished roll in the air like a plane. He propped his chin onto his other hand and stared pointedly at Oishi, waiting for him to reply.

Oishi immediately stopped chewing and looked up to the other with a sheepish expression. "I guess I really can't hide it from you."

"Don't be ridiculous, we're all in this together."

"Ah," Oishi began slowly, fingers fiddling with his napkin, "I really don't know the details. But I talked to Tezuka earlier and the news wasn't good."

"What? What are you talking about? What's wrong with Ochibi!"

"Eiji, calm down! Please don't misunderstand. He's not physically hurt. But…it is clear that he suffers mentally. He has been very distracted and unfocused. Unable to concentrate on any mind strengthening exercises." He looked away, concern reflecting in his deep green eyes. "Not that Echizen isn't trying or anything like that, but there lacks a certain type of spirit, an inner desire. Like he has been exhausted."

He gave a strained smile at Eiji's perplexed look and continued. "We should be concentrating on his psychokinesis above all else for now. But progress is poor. And it feels like we are back where we started, lost and very blind…"

"Oishi." Eiji was beginning to feel guilty for dragging him through the worry again. He really didn't know what to do at times like this. He shut his eyes tightly in anger, why was he so helpless? Oishi was always there when he needed him, but here he was, useless and weak, unable to ease the fear in any way—

He jumped when he felt gentle warm hands closing over his own. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be burdening you too with this. It is just that I have been thinking about a lot of things lately. But thank you for listening."

"But Oishi—"

"No, I'm serious. I'm grateful for your time." He stood up, taking both his and Eiji's plates to the sink. "I just don't know how to break the news to Fuji, that's all."

"Oh," Eiji said softly, his mind already mulling on those last words. He hadn't seen Fuji all week ever since he came back to work —which was very odd, because Fuji never seemed to be the kind who would normally chain himself to a desk— and Ochibi too. Of course, the department building was large enough, but they were in the same division, so shouldn't they at least bump into each other?

He yelped in surprise at the sudden crash by the door.

"Fuji!" Oishi cried, running over to the fallen youth, carefully minding the toppled chairs strewed over the tiled floor, "are you alright?" He held out his arms to steady him but was pushed back.

"I'm ok. Sorry about that. I'll be more careful." Fuji dusted off his dark pants and smiled tightly in an attempt of reassurance. Yet neither were reassured. As far as anyone knew, Fuji Syusuke did not trip over chairs.

But even before that…

"Fuji, where were you all week!" Eiji practically shouted.

"Working," came the quiet answer.

"For the whole week!"

"Aa."

"What! Oishi!" Eiji whipped his head to Oishi who snapped back in surprise, "say something, nya!"

"Eh? Oh sorry." He quickly recomposed himself and his eyes darkened. "Eiji's right. Where have you been? You weren't even in your office at the times I knocked at your door." He noticed how Fuji was rapidly losing interest and grabbed his arm. "Fuji! Listen! We're worried about you! You suddenly disappear and everything falls apart— Echizen is sick, do you know that!"

Do you even care?

Ah, that did it. Fuji stopped struggling

"I know that."

Wait, what?

"In fact, I know all about it. About how he is mentally exhausted, about how he pushes himself too hard despite that exhaustion, about how he collapsed today and was sent home. Everything I know." He shook himself free from Oishi's grasp and coolly turned to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me—"

Eiji grabbed the other's shoulder and roughly spun him around. "Fuji! What's wrong with you!" His brows furrowed and his voice took on a quieter tone. "What's happening to you? Tell us what's wrong. We want to help… look at me, dammit!"

It seemed like forever, but when Fuji finally lifted his head, they realized for the first time how exhausted he was, how full of remorse were his dull bloodshot eyes. His body lost that once confident air and was instead hunched over in weariness.

"It's my fault." His voice was so soft that they both had to lean in to just barely hear it. "I shouldn't have unlocked that talent. It was a grave mistake and one I truly regret. He suffers again." He looked away as that tremendous wave of guilt threatened to rush out once more.

"…I don't know how to face him," he ended in a whisper.

"Fuji—"

"No, Oishi," Fuji held up a hand and took another shuttering breath. "I thought if he realized that he was psychokinetic, that veil of swarming doubts would lift and he could concentrate more on something else. But…" he winced and pressed his palm against his forehead. "That was not the case."

He is powerful.

"So that's why," Oishi breathed. Everything was clicking into place. "He is affecting you too because he is living so close. Why didn't you tell us earlier?" he scolded gently.

Fuji only shook his head.

"Running won't solve anything. You need to talk to him, or he will grow worse. And that would lead to nowhere." He looked over at the still depressed youth and sighed. "Fuji, stop blaming yourself. His psychokinesis is an invaluable asset and should not be kept dormant." He frowned. "But as for the effects…"

"Nya, Fuji, do you want to come to the dorm? I'll keep Ochibi company. I won't be affected by it—"

"No!… ah, no. That's all right. It's my problem. I should be the one to fix this. And anyway, I shouldn't leave him, not when he is so vulnerable… but thank you." He closed his eyes and even managed a small smile. "I—I have to talk Ryoma, I guess. I've done enough damage by staying away."

"That's the spirit, nya!" Eiji gave a sudden slap on Fuji's shoulder and laughed loudly. "You go set Ochibi straight! I'm worried enough as it is!" He began to steer the other out of the room. "Come on! What are you waiting for? Time's a-wastin!"

"…a—ah."

They were already out in the hallway when Oishi's voice floated over. Yet the mere tone of it was enough to stop them in their tracks.

"It's good that you have made up your mind," the voice sounded strange and hollow, echoing from the room within. "But Echizen is a double-edged sword, with the ability to create and destroy. If you weren't so intent about taking care of him yourself—"

Fuji broke away from Eiji's grasp and headed back to the cafeteria. Oishi was still standing there, in the middle of those toppled chairs with his back to them.

"—but he is one of us now and we are not so heartless to disregard his well-being." Oishi turned to them then, his expression still doubtful, but underlying with something surprisingly fierce and protective.

"You need to calm him," he continued on in that mysterious way, "soothe his mind. You know what I'm talking about, right? He suffers from post-traumatic stress. The shock from witnessing the eradication of life is not something that can be so easily forgotten."

He was speaking slowly and deliberately, making sure that nothing was left out and being very careful with his words.

"His emotions are rampant. Full of pain and deep sorrow— but anger most of all. You have to be careful…" He trailed off and looked directly at Fuji. The anxiousness in his eyes was alarmingly apparent and Fuji was once again reminded of how serious the situation was.

"You must be careful. Because everything is in your hands. Either you save him, or he will ruin the both of you."

---

Those worn concrete steps leading up to the darkened house now looked foreboding, and the grey overcast clouds gave off a deep fiery red from the setting sun. It was just like how it had been so many years ago, on a cool and breezy night, when his parents died. That cozy, homely environment was gone, shattered. His siblings soon moved out, unable to stay in a place that reminded them so much of family. The void grew into an abyss and that abyss engulfed everything. It was the end to a dream. And a part of him died as well.

A transition then, he had convinced himself. A transition for a more cautious him, a more reserved him. One who befuddled others, one who maintained a distance from others and one who refused to be hurt again…

So was this a transition too?

Fuji slowly unlocked the front door and effortlessly pushed it open. The darkness was the same here, as there was really only one kind. The one from which spawned all else. Was it evil? Or was it loneliness?

Ryoma?

He unexpectedly stumbled and held feebly onto the nearby fern stand for support. It was definitely worse now. With the amount of thoughts bombarding his head, he doubted if he could even make it upstairs.

He painfully pulled himself up and headed up those steps. His hand trailed along the wall as he willed those tired legs to cooperate.

Step by step. Closer and closer.

He knew Ryoma was in his room. Had always knew. Where else would Ryoma go? Where else could Ryoma go? It was hard coming home together, tense and awkward, neither of them willing to speak. But it was even more painful watching Ryoma shut himself up in his room, wallowing in hate and suffering.

And in turn, he suffered too.

Blunderer, failure, tormentor, a dark corner of his mind chanted— you are everything. Because you are at fault, you are to blame. And because of this guilt, this overwhelming misery, all that is left of you is this pitiful heap of anguish and regret.

This all wouldn't have happened if he didn't bring Ryoma home, he snapped angrily. If he weren't here, he wouldn't be falling apart like this. This weak, pathetic part of him that he had so desperately tried to push away. He didn't need anyone and he certainly did not need to feel anything.

That's right, the little voice mocked. So that is why you were so concerned for Ryoma when he first arrived. That is why you stayed with him, why you eagerly volunteered to take him in and why you involved yourself in Ryoma's despair…

Face it, the little voice whispered, now malicious and snide, you are not who you think you are. Beneath that mask lies still that lonely ghost of a boy. That same boy who aches for acceptance and it is that same boy who fears rejection. And that is why you couldn't bring yourself to talk to Ryoma, couldn't bring yourself to stand in front of him and explain what was happening. That is why you only had enough courage to knock on his door to tell him that you left dinner on the floor, and that is why you keep running and running, waiting for the moment you wake from this bad dream.

Is he what you have hoped him to be? Has he fulfilled his purpose? That cruel laugh echoed again. The way you desperately hold onto those moments with him! The way you cherish his company! He's not much of a talker, but there is a presence at least, something that blinks at the back of the mind. There is another voice to wake up to and there is life in the house again—

Just how family was once, ne?

Fuji lowered his eyes. He was such a useless coward. And that was the simple reason to it all. Who knew that an assignment would affect him so much? Even when he first received it years ago, it did not trigger any hidden feelings. Yet here he was now, apprehensive and terrified.

He had completely messed up everything. Ryoma hardly touched his dinner now, hardly acknowledged him. In fact, Ryoma had every right to be angry at him. It was his fault, after all. He had no right to dump all of his hopes and dreams onto him. No right to expect so much from him. No right to shove him into the grand scheme of things…

He now stood in front of Ryoma's door and the moon's silver light cast an eerie glow on its smooth surface. He had stared at this door many times before, but had no desire to open it. Now he was before it again, tense and uncertain.

Fuji reached tentatively for the knob—

DON'T COME IN!

—and nearly collapsed from the raw intensity of power behind that thought.

He leaned weakly against the wall as he tried to shake himself from the splitting headache. Anymore of this and he soon would probably be out cold. But he also wasn't about to back down just yet.

He steeled himself again and nudged the door open. It was dark but Fuji could still make out that silhouetted body huddled by the corner. His arms were wrapped round in a fetal position; he looked so small that way, defenseless even, and Fuji immediately felt an unexplainable desire to rush over and hold him.

But he stopped shortly when Ryoma lifted up his head to give him a piercing glare, "I said, leave me alone!" Ryoma jerked away to look out the window and scowled even more when he realized that Fuji hadn't moved. "Didn't you hear me? Get out!"

"Ryoma, I want to talk to you—"

"There's nothing to talk about! I'm fine!"

"You're not well at all…" Fuji spoke softly and began to walk towards the boy.

"What are you doing? I don't want to see you!" The menacing glare was rapidly fading and a frightened look slowly took its place. "Stay away from me! I'm fine on my own! I don't need you!"

"Please, let me help—"

It was like watching a movie in slow motion, really, and Fuji watched with fascination, when that angry angelic face crumpled and all defenses broke.

"Stop it! I don't need your help! Don't you think you've had enough fun already? I can't sleep, I can't even think straight and every waking hour is hell to me! What else are you planning to do? All that time spying on me! Only for this! You've done enough damage! I don't care anymore how much your stupid group needs me, this life is even worse than the one in the orphanage! At least in Maho, above those gossiping murmurs and taunting words, I could sleep away my sorrows!"

"Don't come near me! Don't touch me!" His voice was rising sharply and his eyes grew wide with fright. "Are you happy now? Are you satisfied? I'm going insane! I can't block it! I don't know how to block it!" Ryoma started to shake and vainly wrapped his arms around himself. "They keep coming into my head, coming and coming. Every little single damn thing that moves I know about it!"

Ryoma—

"Stop going into my head! Won't you leave me alone!" Ryoma whipped around to face him, knuckles white and clutching at his hair, eyes brimming with frustration and tears. They were so close to each other already, but neither was sure of what to do.

"Don't come any closer," he whispered, dropping back onto the floor in defeat.

"I…" Fuji kneeled before the sobbing youth. It was those same wretched tears that he had once shed, those same cursed tears that he had promised himself to never be affected again, now stirred something deep within him. "I'm sorry," he tried again. He wondered for a split second if he had been like this, so vulnerable, so tormented. He didn't remember. It seemed so long ago. Yet the crystal tears from those innocent eyes were so heart wrenching. Such sad eyes. Did he have them still?

His hands were moving on their own, arms encircling Ryoma's small frame. It was almost a miracle that Ryoma didn't shrink away or slap at his hands, but remained motionless, as if surrendering to what Fuji was prepared to do next.

"I am really, truly sorry." And Fuji hugged tightly at the shaking bundle.

---

Was it only a few minutes, or did it feel that way in a span of many hours? Whatever it was, Fuji thought, it brought sanctuary… and a peace of sorts. They were still in Ryoma's room, still in that little corner by the window, but there were no more tears and a comfortable silence had washed over them.

He gave another relieved sigh and looked down at the youth curled up against him with warm eyes. It was difficult at first, but Fuji was finally able to slip through those crumbling mental barriers, and with gentle coaxing, smoothed those rough waves of thought— an action not without consequences because he was beginning to feel that heavy pull of mental depletion. But Ryoma was already falling fast towards the welcoming arms of sleep, and that was all that actually mattered for now.

And yet, he couldn't help but to ponder about the future. So this was what he had worked so hard for, this was what he had poured his days over for, and this was what will eventually bring the end to their warring days…

Child, Messenger, Angel—whatever he was, he was precious. Because he represented hope and everything they held dear. But that was not all, that should not be all. He was not just some instrument, not something to be used, but a person as well, with emotions and a mind of his own. Someone with his own abilities, someone who will make a difference and someone who will save them all…

He turned his attention back to the youth in his arms and smiled sadly.

Will you save me too?

        Minnow, go to sleep and dream,
        Close your great big eyes;
        Round your bed Events prepare
        The pleasantest surprise.

Because—he was lost; all hope was lost. He was alone and grasping at nothing. He was scared, oh yes, and downright miserable with life. It was like living an empty existence for the longest time, one filled with isolation and darkness.

But along came Ryoma and everything changed. Here was a new start, a new opportunity. And the chance to live again—

They were the same. They had the same eyes, the same bleeding hearts, the same desires. Here was finally someone who can understand him, relate to him, someone who he can share his joys and griefs with. It was surely a dream come true.

So what was next? He knew what all this meant. He had to hold on and take advantage of the situation. Who knew what the future may bring? He didn't ever want to slide into that pit of despair again. He refused to. And anyway, he had hurt Ryoma enough with his foolishness. There won't be any more hesitations.

It was time to make amends and leave that realm of darkness forever. All that was left now was to make it work— no matter how long, no matter how hard— with all his power… because he was lonely and desperate. He craved for that kind of family environment. He wanted to be able to laugh in that carefree way again, wanted to show Ryoma the kind of life that he alone had rekindled from deep within—

But he wanted to see those olive eyes light up with happiness most of all…

Silently, Fuji reached over to pull the quilt from the bed. He tucked it around the slumbering youth with care and leaned over to gently brush those dark locks from that fevered head.

Ryoma, I will protect you.

        Joy and Love will both be yours,
        Minnow, don't be glum.
        Happy  days are coming soon--
        Sleep, and let them come...

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Sweet dreams.

-----to be continued

A/N: Well, sue me. Another late chapter…as expected. (Did anyone miss me? --jj) I think none of you were expecting a chapter like this. Angst, angst, angst! Eeep! I don't think some of you may like how the story is going now! (looks around nervously) I wonder how you guys are all thinking about this story though. I think I may have included (and will probably continue to include) too many elements and therefore have dug myself a very, very deep hole… I'm so stupid (sobs). As you may all have realized by now, I unfortunately am, a slow, s-l-o-w writer and therefore, an even slower updater. Blame school. And is it just me or the chapters just keep getting longer? I sense a problem…

P.S. maybe I'll go on hiatus (?)

On to Chapter 7!!