Blue Prints

Ch 2: The White Cat and His Silver Thread

Sunlight almost barely breaks the surface of a damp alleyway. The buildings that shielded the area from February's setting sun were occupied, but not busy. The rustling of the trees and bushes could only be described as calming to the ear, complimenting the rushing water just feet away. Birds and other critters can also be heard from a distance, but aside from that it was relevantly quiet. No one was here except for a familiar body.

"Fuck," Kurasame mumbled as he sat up against a pillar of a building. Although notably one of the coldest times of the year, Kurasame's body felt warm as blood ran down his back. He couldn't help but to look down at his shoulder. Doing so only made it hurt more, and man... did it hurt alright. But he needed to see how bad the wound was, how long it would take to stop bleeding. With that, he promptly touched the soaked hoodie that protected his skin from the cold breeze.

Like he thought, it hurt like hell.

This was not the first time he was shot, but this is the first time a bullet cleaned through his skin, muscle, and fat. All there was was a hole, and Kurasame was inexperienced with the feeling. He then cursed again, though what he said this time was unclear to even himself.

He layed back and rested his head against the pillar of the quiet structure. It would be so easy for him to close his eyes and rest. He felt weak, and he knew it was not just a feeling. Maybe it was due to the bloodloss, or maybe it was due to the way he ran until he could not hear voices anymore. Whatever it was, although dangerous, he decided to take a nap.

This nap did not last long due to pain circulating from head to toe. Though blurry at first, Kurasame could see someone standing over him. He was not alarmed, he was familiar with the attire in front of him.

The figure had pale skin, competing with snow itself. Though one would think darker colours would be the best option of wear, this person standing at around 5'4" wore white shorts and a t-shirt with turquoise accents. Making his way to look at the person's face, Kurasame gazed at short white hair that parted from the middle, just barely brushing the top of their turquoise green eye. Their left eye hid behind a gauze of sorts, making this one of the most odd appearances anyone would ever get the chance to see. But even so, Kurasame called out his name.

"Ikuto, what are you doing here?"

"You didn't mean that right? What you said earlier?" Ikuto asked as his eyes searched for a place to rest. Looking at each other while they were both upset was a bit of a challenge for the two kids.

"What did I say again?"

"That you'd rather be dead."

Silence ruled for a few moments. Kurasame could not remember when he had said this, but if Ikuto claimed to have heard those words come out of his mouth, then Kurasame knew he was telling the truth. Plus, it wasn't an outlandish statement. It was very realistic for Kurasame to have said those things.

Finally, Kurasame patted the ground weakly, "come sit next to me."

Ikuto's eyebrows knitted closely together, and he silently obliged. They looked into eachothers faces for a bit. Ikuto could see cold sweat running down Kurasame's olive skin, and then he took a closer look at his injury. He could not tell what it was caused by, but he could only imagine what pain Kurasame was going through right now. Ikuto wanted to ask... He wanted to get mad with his friend over the events that happened prior to them finding each other, but just couldn't.

"If you felt this bullet wound fourteen times more than usual... Then I'm sure you'd want to die too."

Hearing this, Ikuto couldn't help but look away once more. He wished that Kurasame was just being dramatic... Well, as dramatic as someone in his position could be. However, if anyone else had Kurasame's blue print, the smallest injury would feel like they were being tortured and have them beg for mercy. Even a papercut was enough to make a grown man cry.

There was a bright side to this superior's ability though. Whether or not it was deemed 'worth it' was debatable. Although physical trauma hurt fourteen times more than what it's supposed to, it often healed up to a hundred times faster. No matter which way you look at it, Kurasame had incredible pain tolerance, but he was not invincible.

"But... I'd never let a bullet from a frightened inferior kill me."

Ikuto raised his head to see a smiling face with a soft and caring gaze. Even in times like this, Kurasame did his best to make Ikuto feel better. Not knowing what passed over him, Ikuto huffed as he scrunched his nose in frustration. He swiftly wrapped his arms around his buddy's good arm and laid his head to rest in the nook between Kurasame's jaw and his collarbone. Even though he was surprised by the sudden embrace, it was far from unusual. Kurasame couldn't help but feel the ends of his mouth rise.

Moments pass and Ikuto takes a deep breath, "I was really worried about you. I'm glad you're okay."

Kurasame wanted to say I know but knew that was an arrogant thought. He and Ikuto spent most of their lives together, so it was obvious Kurasame knew how much he worried for him. But that did not explain how Ikuto found him so quickly.

"By the way, how did you find me before the authorities?"

"You're kidding right? I've known you for so long, I know you better than I know myself at this point. The triple-SA does not know of your ability, so they think they're dealing with a frightened and injured superior who is suffering a lot of blood loss. It's only natural they're looking in buildings nearby the incident, not expecting you to have run as far as you did, taking shelter in front of a lake that runs for miles on a cold evening. I would kill to see their faces right now-! Kurasame, stop pinching my cheeks! Your hands are so cold."

Kurasame pulled his hand away, "you're the one wearing shorts on such a cold day."

"Yeah, because I didn't expect us to be out this long. It was a lot warmer when the sun was at its highest." Ikuto sighed, thinking about how inconvenient this entire situation was. They just went on a quick grocery store run for things to make apple pie, but on top of Kurasame's injury and his soon to be blacklisting, Ikuto left his grocery bags in a panic.

Kurasame slanted his thick brows a bit, "I'm sorry that I couldn't get you the canned coffee."

What a waste of money, they both thought.

"Fuck the canned coffee. Shadow will just buy some for us," Ikuto rested his head back on Kurasame's cozy right arm. "I also dropped the grocery bags on the way here so I have no right to complain. Speaking of which, how did you get yourself caught?"

Hearing this question made Kurasame think for a moment or so, Should I tell him the truth and potentially get laughed at, or should I make something up?

How was he going to tell him that he got caught because he bumped into someone and almost tripped and landed on his face? That he couldn't use his gun because his arms were occupied carrying twelve cans of coffee?

With the pause that Kurasame took, Ikuto knew he shouldn't push any further, "don't tell me, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're safe and sound."

Kurasame breathed out of relief.

"I do think you should cover up your blue print though."

"I don't know how you're able to do it, but that shit is so uncomfortable. I'll pass."

"And your hair isn't? It's covering half of your face and prevents you from seeing with one eye..." Having stated this, Ikuto knew Kurasame's response.

"Well you can do it, so why can't I?"

"Fair point." Ikuto chuckled, making himself comfortable one last time. Kurasame returned the gesture, and rested his head on top of what was a head of hair but felt like a puffy cloud. With this, they both felt relieved in each other's company, and did not give a damn about the chilly winds or the shouting voices that they heard miles away.

"Did you find him!!" "Not yet, sir!" "He's not here, maybe he's gone for good!" "Crap!"