Colorful World
Fandom: Inazuma Eleven
Pairing: Fubuki Shirou/Kazemaru Ichiryouta
Ratings: K
Summary: Fubuki dreams.
Disclaimer: Inazuma Eleven belongs to Level 5, and I'm just borrowing their characters.
Author's Notes: I was listening to Tomohisa Sako's カラフルワールド the other day, and realized that the lyrics are extremely similar to what I had in mind for this pairing. By the way, I haven't finished the whole series nor GO yet, so there might be some mistakes. I'd be glad if anyone could point them out.
Fubuki woke up with glasses. He wasn't short-sighted; therefore it was quite understandable for him to be confused when he woke up with a pair of them resting on his face. He was more confused when he realized he couldn't take them off.
Looking out from the lens, he was in a monotone world; everything had its familiar outline, but they were in black, white, or different shades of grey instead of the myriad of colors they should be in. To be truthful, it was rather disorienting.
He looked around, thoughts going a mile a minute in his head. He was wearing his old Raimon uniform, something he hasn't worn in ages since he graduated from Hakuren. His height was the same as he was at 14 and his voice…let's not go into that. However, it'd be safe to say that he wasn't happy with the changes. Nuh-uh, not happy at all. He spent years to finally grow taller than Kazemaru, and here he was, back at the beginning.
The surroundings were oddly familiar, in fact. It wasn't the endless fields of snow in Hokkaido, but the scenery he has come to appreciate in Raimon. If he imagined he was in an old black-and-white photo, he's standing in middle of the Raimon soccer field. It felt oddly discomforting like the old days, when he and Kazemaru were still tip-toeing around each other, carefully testing each other's boundaries-
And a flash of color rushes across his eyes, and runs off to the edge of his vision.
Fubuki moved instantly. He had to follow it - not only was it the only lead to this situation and a way out, but also because he would recognize that silhouette anywhere, color or no color. The ponytail that swished across the back of the other's head, the film of hair that covered the other's eyes, and the determined expression that the other always unconsciously took on whenever he was running were all screaming at him about the other's identity, and like hell is Fubuki going to let the other get away. He was quite familiar with chasing him, anyway.
Fubuki focused on the running figure before him. Yes, it was familiar enough. He'd had the same view numerous times before both on and off the soccer field; Kazemaru was fairly easy to embarrass, and flees whenever he was embarrassed. It became a sort of ritual between the two; Kazemaru would run and he would pursue, and soon it became simple. When Kazemaru finally stops they would both fall to the ground, exhausted but laughing at the sheer stupidity of what just transpired.
This time seemed to be no different; they ran off the fields, past the school buildings and out of the gate. His gaze fixated on the swishing ponytail before him, and he was pretty sure that their distance was shortening. It reminds him of when he was chasing the same person, only under different context; not literal but figurative. He had thought that he would never be able to get his feelings across, with Kazemaru being all obsessed with Endou, being powerless, and all that Darkness Emperors garbage - he still has nightmares about it sometimes -, not to mention his own problems. But in the end, he was the one that took the first step. And he realized that both of them were tip-toeing around the other, being too cautious for nothing. Step by step, the distance between them closed, and they were happy with each other. Sure, Fubuki thought, the distance between them seems to be not traversable at all; but he's faster. He had closed their distance once, and he can do it again.
They ran past the river they used to go so often. They ran across the bridge that ran above the river itself; not unlike how his innuendos and hints used to go right over Kazemaru's head, he mused. Kazemaru was sensitive to other's feelings, and had sharp senses, but he couldn't notice anything he didn't expect to notice. Things could have gone so much smoother if he didn't have such a thick skull. In a sense, he evaded every advance Fubuki made perfectly. If he hadn't went and confessed in a burst of bravery (or foolishness), it would have taken them much longer to get together.
The familiar landscape of Inazuma-chuu faded away, and the pair was running in darkness. There were brushes and strokes of colors in the blackness, but Fubuki couldn't see them even if he noticed the changes in scenery. He was focused on closing their gap, and finally he caught up with the other. Kazemaru huffed and turned to face him, smiling that oh-so-beautiful smile of his and a spark in his brownish-red eyes. Fubuki just stood dumbfounded as his eyes took in all the colors they had desired, and the smile of his most important person in the world. He suddenly noticed the change in environment, and to his surprise he could see colors now. It made sense, if he put some thought into it. His life was made special by the person standing before him, smiling and nudging him to go on. He took another step, and everything disappeared.
When he opened his eyes again, Fubuki looked into the peaceful face of Kazemaru, still asleep. He blinked, feeling the absence of any glasses, and turned to the bedside table. More accurately, to the alarm clock resting on top of it. 4:15, it read. He turned back to Kazemaru and fell asleep with a satisfied smile.