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scriveynerTitle: #09 - Telephone
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist, Rurouni Kenshin
AU: Musebox/Kansaki Sou
Characters/Pairing: Kenshin/Ed
Rating: T
Length: 1798
Summary: That stupid phone will just not stop ringing. It's driving Kenshin to distraction.
Kenshin Himura was rudely jolted from his doze by the noisy jangle of the telephone. He had fallen asleep on the couch while reading - not an entirely unusual occurrence in the late summer – and it had darkened considerably since he last registered consciousness. Kenshin sat up slowly, the book he had been reading sliding off his lap as he cracked his neck. It was awfully warm inside the living room, the air was humid and stale.
The telephone stopped ringing.
The abrupt silence that followed made Kenshin realized just how quiet it was. The background hum of electronics did little to mask the sounds of life in the Kansaki Sou; but it was both very quiet, and very dark. Unsettled, Kenshin picked up the book that had slid off of his lap and closed it, setting it aside before rising softly to his feet.
The Kansaki Sou was a very big house – and very old – yet it often felt small, with couples practically living on top of each other. There was always someone about, the television in the den downstairs would be on; people would be yelling outside; someone would be in the kitchen and there were always people running about, drumming up a racket. Kenshin had grown so used to the lively commotion that it was easy to block it all out – but to wake up in complete silence was deeply unusual.
It was late summer in the Midwest. The locusts' incessant melody had faded, and with it went the memory of fireflies and lazy late nights sprawled on the lawn. The air conditioning that kept the 'Sou cool chugged on with its full force, leaving an artificial smell to the air that Kenshin could always distinguish. Edward hated it – he hated the unrelenting heat more, but he constantly voiced his disapproval at how the air conditioning reminded him of living life in an icebox. Fortunately, his idea of dismantling the unit to make it “better” was quickly voted down. If he, or his mechanic, wanted to fiddle with the air conditioning, they had to wait until it was no longer truly needed.
In the last week the stifling heat had finally abated, and for the first time since the start of summer the windows and doors were opened to air out the 'Sou in full. It felt wonderful to smell the outside world again, and to sit and watch as a late evening breeze would softly stir the sheers.
The fact that the building was opened up as such usually meant that it was even noisier than before. Kenshin padded to the main stairs, where the foyer and the front door were; the hallway that crossed there led to the dining room. The dining room was just as dark as the living room, and the kitchen beyond lay vacant as well.
Where was everybody?
His dairokkan remained silent as well; he did not sense any immediate threat to the peace and tranquility of his home. All the same, the emptiness was playing havoc with his nerves. Kenshin put one hand on the banister and considered the darkness that swallowed the stairs. He knew better than to worry about Edward – Edward laughed off danger like it was there to amuse him. His partner could take care of himself. All the same, he wanted to check on Edward and make certain of his safety first. If it was not his place to protect the man he loved, then who else would do so?
Kenshin had put one foot on the stairs when the telephone rang again.
The jangling noise startled Kenshin, and he stared at the table in the foyer where the single handset sat. It was a corded phone – not even cordless, a measure of its age (and the fact that a corded phone could not walk off like the cordless handsets) – the only landline that ran into the 'Sou. It was more of an emergency line, it rarely rang as it was – but twice in one night? Kenshin cast one last look up the stairs, and then turned silently toward the phone.
Kenshin placed his hand on the handset, but he paused. Something tingled in the back of his mind, a memory he had buried of a cold winter night and a similar phone call. He felt his stomach squeeze as he forced the memory under again. Digging up the past, even something so recent, did not help him now. He answered mid-ring. “Himura.”
There was silence on the line, the faint buzz of static – and then the line clicked. Kenshin's mouth ran dry. He replaced the handset even as the line started to beep with a disconnected call. His nerves were running high – he was not in any danger, he knew this, and even as he tried to settle his breathing and calm himself the adrenaline was already starting in his system.
Too many late night horror movies, locked in a tiny room with nothing but a cot and an old black and white television fed his imagination, even when he knew logically there was nothing here for him to fear. Kenshin took another deep breath, and glanced around. He would not be intimidated into losing his cool. That was just another memory to be locked away and forgotten.
Kenshin's stride was steady as he took the stairs, two at a time. He did not turn on the hall light, he refused to let the murky darkness perturb him. Kenshin Himura had stared down the abyss, he would not be so easily spooked by shadows.
The phone rang for a third time. Kenshin stood at the top of the staircase and listened to it ring. There was something wrong, he felt it in his bones now. He could not make himself move, to run down the stairs in the hope of catching the call before it cut off. He would not make it anyway, so he counted the rings until it cut off.
As he stood in the silence after the phone stopped ringing, Kenshin's sense of unease grew. No noises, no sounds, no lights – even the dogs did not seem to be here. He was alone in this great big house.
Something told him he did not want to go into the room that he shared with Edward, but he could not logically chase down the reason why. Kenshin rested his hand on the doorknob, expecting – he was not even sure what. To be shocked, to recoil in pain – but the knob was cool metal under his palm. He steeled himself, and opened the door.
Warm light spilled out of the room, coming from the lamp on the beside table. Edward Elric looked up, his blond hair spilling over his shoulder in a loose ponytail. He was lying on the bed, pencil in his mouth, a large book full of color plates and inscriptions spread open and held with one hand. Hermes even, lay on the floor, sprawled on his belly. Kenshin was struck by the intense normality of the scene laid out before him. Edward raised an eyebrow, taking the pencil out of his teeth with his automail hand. “What's with you, Himura, you look like you've seen a ghost.”
Kenshin wet his lips and glanced back down the dark hallway. With the introduction of light, the murky blackness had let up considerably. “Did you hear the phone ring?”
Edward cocked his head, clearly listening, and then nodded. “It's been going off all day. I think it's a prank caller or something, it started up while you were gone to grocery this afternoon. I thought the jackass had quit. Guess not.”
His room was warm, and normal, and it dispelled the last of Kenshin's unease. He stepped over the threshold and into the room itself and Hermes growled faintly at his presence, without raising his head or opening his eyes. That too, was normal and reassuring.
“Where is everyone?” Kenshin asked as he pulled the door closed behind him. “It's quiet.”
“Out,” Edward said simply.
The unease returned. “Just … out? Everyone?”
The phone rang again. Kenshin lifted his head and frowned – the ringing this time did not so much resemble the telephone downstairs as much as the ringing tone that the cell phone he carried on his missions had. However, he was not on a mission – he was at home, and the cell phone should be tucked away in a drawer. Besides, who else knew that number?
Edward hooked two fingers in the back of Kenshin's pants, pulling him sharply toward the bed. Kenshin half-turned, having forgotten already the strength in Edward's false limb and ended up on his side on the bed, upsetting the book and papers. “Ed-!”
He felt heavy, too heavy. The vibration of his cell phone in his pocket was driving him to distraction, and the way that Edward had him pinned to the bed made it hard to breathe.
Kenshin inhaled deeply, coughing the mud out of his lungs. His face was not pressed to sheets but to dirt congealing to mud around his face. Kenshin coughed again, gagging on the blood and the mud and struggled to full consciousness. His hand was locked tight around the hilt of his sword, the other pinned under him. And his phone was ringing, vibrating in the back pocket of his jeans.
It hurt to move, to breathe, to think. It was quiet, the ground was dirt, loamy. He was outside, in the forest. Pinned, too, he could hardly move – his phone had stopped ringing, his anchor was gone. Kenshin fought with the blackness ebbing at the edge of his vision, but he could barely find the strength. Oblivion called to him again, its siren song of rest after a long journey.
Then, voices. His phone began to vibrate; its noisy, jangling ringtone providing a tether to consciousness.
Kenshin could pick Edward's voice out of many as they came running – he could count two pairs of bare feet, - the werewolves, no doubt, running about naked in their human forms – and then Edward's knees, encased in torn black leather and splashing slightly as they hit the mud. Kenshin squinted up at Edward; Edward's shirt was torn, his good shoulder and his face bloody. He could not quite make out the words but Edward's voice and tone was panicked.
He smiled hazily at Edward, and the last thing he saw before the darkness closed in on him again was Edward's cell phone, falling into the mud.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist, Rurouni Kenshin
AU: Musebox/Kansaki Sou
Characters/Pairing: Kenshin/Ed
Rating: T
Length: 1798
Summary: That stupid phone will just not stop ringing. It's driving Kenshin to distraction.
Kenshin Himura was rudely jolted from his doze by the noisy jangle of the telephone. He had fallen asleep on the couch while reading - not an entirely unusual occurrence in the late summer – and it had darkened considerably since he last registered consciousness. Kenshin sat up slowly, the book he had been reading sliding off his lap as he cracked his neck. It was awfully warm inside the living room, the air was humid and stale.
The telephone stopped ringing.
The abrupt silence that followed made Kenshin realized just how quiet it was. The background hum of electronics did little to mask the sounds of life in the Kansaki Sou; but it was both very quiet, and very dark. Unsettled, Kenshin picked up the book that had slid off of his lap and closed it, setting it aside before rising softly to his feet.
The Kansaki Sou was a very big house – and very old – yet it often felt small, with couples practically living on top of each other. There was always someone about, the television in the den downstairs would be on; people would be yelling outside; someone would be in the kitchen and there were always people running about, drumming up a racket. Kenshin had grown so used to the lively commotion that it was easy to block it all out – but to wake up in complete silence was deeply unusual.
It was late summer in the Midwest. The locusts' incessant melody had faded, and with it went the memory of fireflies and lazy late nights sprawled on the lawn. The air conditioning that kept the 'Sou cool chugged on with its full force, leaving an artificial smell to the air that Kenshin could always distinguish. Edward hated it – he hated the unrelenting heat more, but he constantly voiced his disapproval at how the air conditioning reminded him of living life in an icebox. Fortunately, his idea of dismantling the unit to make it “better” was quickly voted down. If he, or his mechanic, wanted to fiddle with the air conditioning, they had to wait until it was no longer truly needed.
In the last week the stifling heat had finally abated, and for the first time since the start of summer the windows and doors were opened to air out the 'Sou in full. It felt wonderful to smell the outside world again, and to sit and watch as a late evening breeze would softly stir the sheers.
The fact that the building was opened up as such usually meant that it was even noisier than before. Kenshin padded to the main stairs, where the foyer and the front door were; the hallway that crossed there led to the dining room. The dining room was just as dark as the living room, and the kitchen beyond lay vacant as well.
Where was everybody?
His dairokkan remained silent as well; he did not sense any immediate threat to the peace and tranquility of his home. All the same, the emptiness was playing havoc with his nerves. Kenshin put one hand on the banister and considered the darkness that swallowed the stairs. He knew better than to worry about Edward – Edward laughed off danger like it was there to amuse him. His partner could take care of himself. All the same, he wanted to check on Edward and make certain of his safety first. If it was not his place to protect the man he loved, then who else would do so?
Kenshin had put one foot on the stairs when the telephone rang again.
The jangling noise startled Kenshin, and he stared at the table in the foyer where the single handset sat. It was a corded phone – not even cordless, a measure of its age (and the fact that a corded phone could not walk off like the cordless handsets) – the only landline that ran into the 'Sou. It was more of an emergency line, it rarely rang as it was – but twice in one night? Kenshin cast one last look up the stairs, and then turned silently toward the phone.
Kenshin placed his hand on the handset, but he paused. Something tingled in the back of his mind, a memory he had buried of a cold winter night and a similar phone call. He felt his stomach squeeze as he forced the memory under again. Digging up the past, even something so recent, did not help him now. He answered mid-ring. “Himura.”
There was silence on the line, the faint buzz of static – and then the line clicked. Kenshin's mouth ran dry. He replaced the handset even as the line started to beep with a disconnected call. His nerves were running high – he was not in any danger, he knew this, and even as he tried to settle his breathing and calm himself the adrenaline was already starting in his system.
Too many late night horror movies, locked in a tiny room with nothing but a cot and an old black and white television fed his imagination, even when he knew logically there was nothing here for him to fear. Kenshin took another deep breath, and glanced around. He would not be intimidated into losing his cool. That was just another memory to be locked away and forgotten.
Kenshin's stride was steady as he took the stairs, two at a time. He did not turn on the hall light, he refused to let the murky darkness perturb him. Kenshin Himura had stared down the abyss, he would not be so easily spooked by shadows.
The phone rang for a third time. Kenshin stood at the top of the staircase and listened to it ring. There was something wrong, he felt it in his bones now. He could not make himself move, to run down the stairs in the hope of catching the call before it cut off. He would not make it anyway, so he counted the rings until it cut off.
As he stood in the silence after the phone stopped ringing, Kenshin's sense of unease grew. No noises, no sounds, no lights – even the dogs did not seem to be here. He was alone in this great big house.
Something told him he did not want to go into the room that he shared with Edward, but he could not logically chase down the reason why. Kenshin rested his hand on the doorknob, expecting – he was not even sure what. To be shocked, to recoil in pain – but the knob was cool metal under his palm. He steeled himself, and opened the door.
Warm light spilled out of the room, coming from the lamp on the beside table. Edward Elric looked up, his blond hair spilling over his shoulder in a loose ponytail. He was lying on the bed, pencil in his mouth, a large book full of color plates and inscriptions spread open and held with one hand. Hermes even, lay on the floor, sprawled on his belly. Kenshin was struck by the intense normality of the scene laid out before him. Edward raised an eyebrow, taking the pencil out of his teeth with his automail hand. “What's with you, Himura, you look like you've seen a ghost.”
Kenshin wet his lips and glanced back down the dark hallway. With the introduction of light, the murky blackness had let up considerably. “Did you hear the phone ring?”
Edward cocked his head, clearly listening, and then nodded. “It's been going off all day. I think it's a prank caller or something, it started up while you were gone to grocery this afternoon. I thought the jackass had quit. Guess not.”
His room was warm, and normal, and it dispelled the last of Kenshin's unease. He stepped over the threshold and into the room itself and Hermes growled faintly at his presence, without raising his head or opening his eyes. That too, was normal and reassuring.
“Where is everyone?” Kenshin asked as he pulled the door closed behind him. “It's quiet.”
“Out,” Edward said simply.
The unease returned. “Just … out? Everyone?”
The phone rang again. Kenshin lifted his head and frowned – the ringing this time did not so much resemble the telephone downstairs as much as the ringing tone that the cell phone he carried on his missions had. However, he was not on a mission – he was at home, and the cell phone should be tucked away in a drawer. Besides, who else knew that number?
Edward hooked two fingers in the back of Kenshin's pants, pulling him sharply toward the bed. Kenshin half-turned, having forgotten already the strength in Edward's false limb and ended up on his side on the bed, upsetting the book and papers. “Ed-!”
He felt heavy, too heavy. The vibration of his cell phone in his pocket was driving him to distraction, and the way that Edward had him pinned to the bed made it hard to breathe.
Kenshin inhaled deeply, coughing the mud out of his lungs. His face was not pressed to sheets but to dirt congealing to mud around his face. Kenshin coughed again, gagging on the blood and the mud and struggled to full consciousness. His hand was locked tight around the hilt of his sword, the other pinned under him. And his phone was ringing, vibrating in the back pocket of his jeans.
It hurt to move, to breathe, to think. It was quiet, the ground was dirt, loamy. He was outside, in the forest. Pinned, too, he could hardly move – his phone had stopped ringing, his anchor was gone. Kenshin fought with the blackness ebbing at the edge of his vision, but he could barely find the strength. Oblivion called to him again, its siren song of rest after a long journey.
Then, voices. His phone began to vibrate; its noisy, jangling ringtone providing a tether to consciousness.
Kenshin could pick Edward's voice out of many as they came running – he could count two pairs of bare feet, - the werewolves, no doubt, running about naked in their human forms – and then Edward's knees, encased in torn black leather and splashing slightly as they hit the mud. Kenshin squinted up at Edward; Edward's shirt was torn, his good shoulder and his face bloody. He could not quite make out the words but Edward's voice and tone was panicked.
He smiled hazily at Edward, and the last thing he saw before the darkness closed in on him again was Edward's cell phone, falling into the mud.
