Ok, so I was trying to smack a fly, and I stepped back to get it, hit the
bottom of a suitcase, and, in true cartoon form, the top of the suitcase
banged my knee. Ummm, why am I telling you this? Because it's the
inspiration for this fic! =) Song fic, //lyrics// two different songs,
separated by the '~~~' POV switches at the '~~~' as well.
//For so long my life's been sewn up tight inside your hold/ And it leaves me there without a place to call my own//
It's snowing outside. Each little snowflake drifts slowly to the ground, where it rests there with the other beautiful flakes until it will, undoubtedly, melt. And go into the ground, down deep, perhaps to never return again.
I looked at the snow drifting down and wonder if that's just natures way of saying, 'nothing perfect was meant to stay.' I think I could have figured that out on my own.
Still. . . it's very nice while it lasts . . .
But nothing lasts, does it?
I try not to, but I can't help myself, and before I know it, I'm picturing him in my mind again. I'm picturing his messy blue hair, his deep wine- colored eyes, and his ivory skin.
He's perfect, at least, in my mind. To me, that's all that matters. In truth, I'd be pissed if anyone else thought he was perfect. He's mine . . .
. . . No, he's not.
Never will be.
Damn.
//I know now what shadows can see//
It's verydark outside. Kind of like my feelings right now. Horrible thing, really, being denied by the one you love most.
Maybe it was my fault? So many people thought that there was something between her and me . . .maybe he did too, and maybe that's why he ignores me . . . I have nothing against her, but . . . I see her more as a sister, than anything else.
Right now, I'm trying as hard as I can not to be mad at her, if it was her fault he doesn't pay attention to me. She didn't know . . . she didn't bother to find out even . . .
//There's no point in running less you run with me//
I'd like to blame him, but I can't. No, he's too good for that. And I'm pathetic, calling him too good. He's so rude to all of us, and he rarely ever talks. But . . . when we need him, he's always there. Maybe he just isn't used to being around people . . . maybe . . .
The snow is coming down heavier now, and I watch in awe as the snowflakes, which were once so beautiful, start looking harsh as they come down faster, harder, with the howling wind.
Even the most beautiful thing can be dangerous. . .
He's beautiful, but oh, yes, he's very dangerous. . . not someone you'd want to cross, and if you did, you'd never make the mistake of doing it again - if you survived the first time.
I look up to him. Wish I could be like him. Always in control. Even the fact that he barely shows emotions . . . it's just something that makes him himself, you know.
//It's half the distance through the open door/ Before you cut me down//
Irregardless, it always pains me, makes me feel horrible, whenever I suggest he comes with us to go do something fun, or go for a walk, or anything, and he just glares at me.
What did I do to him? I know he's like that to everyone, but there has to be some reason . . . I swear, he's twice as cold to me. Is it because I like him? Love him even? Does he realize this, and because of this, distance himself?
He hates me.
//Again//
Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I get over it? Just once, I'd like to be able to do something, anything, without thinking of him, but everything reminds me of him.
And how he'll never like me in return.
Why?
//Let me introduce you to the end//
Some things, perhaps, are never to be found out, I guess, but it doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, thinking about all of this makes me feel horribly weird inside, like I swallowed a spike or something, and now it's slowly tearing me up inside.
I think I need to get away, but there's no place to get away to. We're here in a small hotel, and I have to share a room with him, but he's asleep right now. I should be too. We have to practice tomorrow; it's very important that we all get a good nights sleep. But I can't sleep.
Quietly, I pull on a sweatshirt over my t-shirt, and a pair of pants over my boxers, and, glancing outside, grab my coat as I leave the room. I have to get away, and the only place to do that right now is to go outside.
So I ride the elevator, as silently as possible, to the top floor of the hotel, and duck into a room marked, 'Employees only.' The stairs leading to the roof are in there, and, seeing as no one is around, I go on up to the roof.
It's cold out.
//And I feel the cold wind blowing beneath my wings/It always leads me back to suffering//
After a minute, however, I adjust to the cold. I'm terribly good at adjusting to things; it's the only way I've learned to keep a smile on my face, and laugh along with everyone else.
I feel so cheap, so fake; I want to scream. I can't, of course, because someone will hear, but I need to scream so badly . . .
I don't want the others to worry about me, but at the same time I wish that he'd worry about me, just once. I hate it, every time he glares at us, every time he disappears without notice, and I'm left to worry about him.
Does he ever worry about me?
//But I will soar until the wind whips me down/ Leaves me beaten on unholy ground again//
Not everything I do is fake, though. The smiles I smile at him when I'm happy, or when I'm congratulating him - those are as real as ever. But then he just shrugs it off, or ignores me, and I'm stuck with a frown until I paste the fake smile on my face again
It's such a joke . . . I bet he sees right through me.
//So tired now of paying my dues/I start out strong but then I always lose//
How strange . . . I'm crying now. Well, maybe not crying. There's just a few tears in my eyes and . . . ok, so I am. The cold wind blows them off my face and for just a second, I can see my own tears twinkle in the moonlight, as they become little ice crystals.
It's so beautiful, but yet so painful, because it's like each tear getting frozen represents my emotions getting frozen; the tears can't go anywhere but down to the ground once they become ice, and I can't go anywhere but down once all of my feelings are iced over.
It probably won't be much longer, especially if he doesn't stop ignoring me.
I feel like a lovesick puppy; all I want is for him to smile at me and say, 'Good job' or, even, 'You did good.' Anything. Anything at all.
//It's half the distance before you leave me behind/ It's such a waste of time//
I guess the best thing to do now is wait until my tears are gone now, so I stand still, my hair blowing in the wind, the snow swirling around me, as I cry silent tears that are louder than any sobs in the world.
Why do I let him do this to me? I love him . . . but he tortures me. Unintentionally or not, he tortures me every day, every moment that I live, that I breathe.
//Cause my shackles/ You won't be//
Every time I draw a breath.
//And my rapture/ You won't believe//
The pain that eats away at me slowly, day by day, week by week . . . it'll all end someday.
//And deep inside you will bleed for me//
I could end it now . . . I could end the pain that torments me . . .It couldn't be so hard; there are millions of things I could do. I could jump off a building, but that seems so pathetic.
Like I'm saying, 'Look at me; I can't get the guy I want so I'm going to jump off a building! Haha, there's nothing you can do to stop me.'
Truth is, when I get my mind made up, really, nothing CAN stop me.
Truth is, if I decided to kill myself now, I would, because I'm so determined.
He'd say I'm being stubborn.
I'd hold onto that, and try to change for him, but some things just never change.
//So here I slave inside of a broken dream/ Forever holding onto splitting seams//
I guess that's the only thing that I've never been able to do - change myself for him. Maybe that's why he refuses to look at me unless necessary, maybe that's why he only talks to me if absolutely needed.
Maybe it's true. . . maybe I should change.
I can't, of course, and knowing that cuts me deeper than any knife could.
Maybe I could hang myself.
//So take your piece and leave me alone to die/ I don't need you to keep my faith alive//
My own hair is long enough that all I need to do is wrap it around my neck, and tie it on something, anything . . . a tree branch, a light . . . anything.
//I know now what trouble can be/ And why it follows me so easily//
It's a shame that I can't just jump off this building. It would make everything so much easier.
The sad thing is, I can't kill myself, even not right now, when I want to most. Even knowing that I must be the most pathetic person . . . the weakest person . . . I can't do it, which makes me feel even weaker.
I can't do it, because I won't let myself stop believing that maybe there IS a chance he likes me back; even just a little. If I told anyone I couldn't kill myself because of him, they'd laugh.
I could imagine him saying that not being able to kill yourself isn't a cowardly, weak thing to do; that it's more cowardly to kill yourself, because then you get to end everything early, and you don't have to experience pain anymore.
It's the kind thing he would say, really. I know, because I know him better than he probably knows himself. And once again, I'm dead serious.
//It's half the distance through the open door/ Before you shut me down//
I could cut myself to death. A sick sort of tribute, perhaps. Carve the words, Sorry, Kai, on my arms and let myself slowly bleed to death, turning the pure white snow around me crimson red with the blood.
Maybe I'd die of cold first.
//Again//
I suppose I should be scared that I can contemplate my own death this calmly. I'm not sobbing anymore; the tears have long since crystallized on my face, leaving sparkles on my face that shouldn't be there.
I guess I'm really that far gone now that nothing really matters.
//Let me introduce you to the end//
Accidentally trip and fall off a building? That seems less attention grabbing, but . . . if I'm going to die . . . I'd like to do it in a slightly . . . well, I don't want to have him think of me as 'the kid who tripped and killed himself. Accidentally, of course.'
I can imagine his red wine eyes laughing at that. I can imagine his face lighting up into a grin if he heard that I, his admirer, and shadow, died. He'd probably be happy.
//Cause my shackles/ You won't be//
I didn't think I had any tears left in me.
//And my rapture/ You won't believe//
I'm really cold now. I don't have gloves, or a hat, only a coat and boots. My hands are shaking, and I can't really feel them. Suddenly I feel my hand close around something hard, though, and I realize I'm clutching a knife.
I'd like to wonder when I got this knife, but I remember clearly the day I bought it - it still pains me to remember . . . the look on his face . . . in my desperation, I had bought a knife to slash my wrists, and then I had put it in my coat pocket, ashamed, trying to forget about it.
//And deep inside you will bleed for me//
It's time for me to let go.
It's time for me to bleed.
//Thought you know you care//
My hand was shaking from the cold, but now it's amazingly calm as it turns the blade towards me. A few snowflakes land on the blade, and stick for a moment before melting. The knife had been near my chest all this time, and it's still warm from my body heat; what little there is left, anyway.
I'm really cold.
The first cut goes deep, right away. I slice open my left arm, from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist.
I'm too cold to feel pain.
The knife comes away from my skin dripping red, dripping my blood, and now when the snow lands on it, it melts immediately.
A second cut . . . slower, drawn out. I've thrown my coat onto the roof, and my sweat shirt too; I'm only in a thin t-shirt, and I take that off too. The second cut is slashed in a 'x' type way right below my collar bone, and a bit above the end of my ribcage.
No more cold, no more pain.
No more feeling.
No more thoughts.
//Cause my shackles/ You won't be//
No more words.
//And my rapture/ You won't believe//
Another cut, following the dripping blood down my body. The blood isn't dripping very fast; the cold is already getting to it.
//And deep inside, you will bleed for me//
I'm bleeding a lot, no matter what, though. I'm so cold. It takes much of my strength to return my thoughts to a coherent state.
I start thinking about him again, probably for the last time now.
I'll never get to be with him now, not that I ever would have been in the first place.
I'll never get to try to make him laugh now, not that I ever could have in the first place.
I'll never just get to see him again.
But it's what he wants, and I'll give him anything he wants.
Another, deep, deep, slash to my body; I twist the knife around in my hand, and carve a design on my back. I'll never see it, but I think it was a heart.
//And my laughter/ You won't hear//
Cold winds wash over me now, and I'm forced abruptly to reality. I realize I'm very cold now; my fingers are blue-tinged, and I can't feel my face, or my body, or any pain. I'm slipping back into unconsciousness. . .
//The faster/I disappear//
Using my last ounce of strength, I remember one thing. Tomorrow's Christmas.
So I take my knife, and use it to write the words, 'Merry Christmas Kai,' across my body, shoulder to shoulder, and, with a grin on my face, and the word 'love' on my lips, I allow myself to be dragged down into a never- ending sleep.
//And time will burn your eyes to tears//
'ai shiteru Kai, eien ni'
~~~
//Cool breeze and autumn leaves/Slow motion daylight//
I can't sleep right now. I don't know why, but I don't think Rei can either. I can hear someone moving about, and it's got to be him, since I'm sharing this room in the hotel with him. What could he be doing up so late?
Something about the way the air feels, the almost unnoticeable tension . . . I dare not let him notice that I'm awake too. Better to wait, better to find out first, and then learn more.
I hear the door slam, and immediately then, I sit up. I'm only in a shirt and pants, so I find myself a bit cold. It's snowing gently outside; that would mean it's quite cold outside.
The wind howls.
Where did Rei go, and why?
//A lone pair of watchful eyes/ Oversee the living//
Rei . . . he's such an enigma to me. I sometimes feel like there's so much to him I'd like to find out about, and that makes me scared. So I keep my distance from him, and he from me. The others don't realize this; they just think I'm unfriendly.
I wonder if he realizes it. And if he does, why does he do it? Is he afraid of me? Does he just not care?
I wouldn't be surprised; it's hardly like I've acted as if I've cared.
//Feel the presence all around/ A tortured soul/ A wound unhealing//
It makes me wonder . . . do I care?
I close my eyes in templation of the question, and think. I certainly act like I don't care, and I tell myself I don't care. Which in any case would mean . . . that I care a hell of a lot more than I let on.
//No regrets or promises/ The past is gone/ But you can still be free//
I guess I don't want people to know I care. Caring is a weakness. I can't have weaknesses. I have to be strong.
And where the heck is Rei anyway? It has to have been at least ten minutes since he left, and though I'm not the extremely worried type, I hardly think that it takes that long to go to the bathroom, or even to just get a snack.
He could just be wandering around, but I wouldn't think he would do that is this weather. He's not stupid. Rei is really smart; I know. I've heard him. He doesn't realize, but I listen a lot more than people would think.
Being quiet means I listen. I absorb things. I can examine them at my own will. It's why I'm so quiet; I like to analyze things.
//If time will set you free//
Where is he?
//Time now to spread your wings/ To take to flight/ The life endeavor//
I close my eyes again, and think to myself, if I were him, where would I be? Immediately I open my eyes and shake my head; I wouldn't know.
But then, this little voice in my head says, 'Go look', and suddenly I find myself pulling on a warmer shirt and putting on a coat and some gloves. 'Go look for him, you know you have to. You want to. You will.'
The voices in my head outnumber me three to one. I exit the room silently, as not to wake up anyone else. Not that I could, really, since they're all pretty heavy sleepers, and not to mention, I'm really quiet.
//Aim for the burning sun/ You're trapped inside//
Now. Where would he go? Logical tells me down, instinct says up. So I walk into the elevator, and have it take me to the highest floor. As the elevator rises, I feel my feelings rise as well. I try to squash them down, though, because emotions really screw me up.
I have weird emotions around Rei, so I avoid him. I still have them when I think about him, when I think about him with his black hair, golden eyes, and fang-bearing smile.
I don't have the time to sort out those emotions, so I always pushed them away. I wonder vaguely if maybe I shouldn't have done that.
Maybe I should have taken the time to think about what they meant.
//If time you will set you free//
I'll make up excuses for myself; I have to practice. I have to train. I have to do . . . whatever. Just so long as I'm busy, and I don't have to think about him. . .
The elevator makes a 'ding' noise, and I get out as fast as I can. This floor only has the four biggest, grandest suites, and a 'employees only' room.
On which the door is slightly open.
Rei must have gone through here, I'm positive no employee would be awake this early, or this late. I'm not sure exactly what time it is, but it is most defiantly past midnight.
What's this? I notice a flight of stairs at the back of the room. A quick search around the room reveals no Rei, so either he went up the stairs or he's not here.
I'm hoping he went up the stairs, because I'm running up them as fast as I can. Something, I don't know what, is telling me to go as fast as I can.
I fling open the door, and realize I'm on the roof. As I step out, a number of things bombard me at once.
The cold.
The wind.
Rei.
//But it's a long long way to go//
My breath catches as I see Rei's back. It's naked, and blood drips down it; blood from a crudely carved heart. Snow and ice swirl around him, and land in his hair.
//Keep moving way up high/ You see the light/ It shines forever//
I realize that something is terribly wrong here, and make to move forward, but my legs have failed me and I can only stare at the terrible sight.
//Sail through the crimson skies/ The purest light/ The light that sets you free//
Rei slowly stands, and I can see blood running down him in many different places. What did he do to himself? What's wrong? Why can't I move? Why can't I do anything?
Helpless.
I feel helpless.
I've never felt this way before. It scares me, and my eyes stay wide open as Rei turns towards me, but he's so out of it he doesn't even see me. His lips form words, and I notice the words along his chest.
'Merry Christmas Kai.'
I think I'm going to be sick.
//If time will set you free//
The wind carries his whispered words over, 'ai shiteru, Kai, eien ni.' I love you Kai, eternally.
No.
//Sail through the wind and rain tonight//
No.
This is wrong, this is . . .
Please.
Let this all be a sick dream.
//You're free to fly tonight//
Don't let this be real.
//And you can still be free//
Let me wake up screaming, because I can't scream now, no matter how hard I try.
//If time will set you free//
Rei. . . is this the emotions I felt towards you? Love? Is love why I pushed you away? Is . . . is love why you took your own life today?
//And going higher than mountain tops/ And go high the wind won't stop//
No. . .
//And go high//
This can't be right. It can't be. Tears are coming faster now, and I can finally move. I run to Rei's body; it's cold, crusted in blood, and his eyes are closed. Peacefully.
I cradle his dead body and tears come even faster. How could I have done this? How couldn't I have noticed?
//Free to fly tonight//
I hope you're happy now, where you are Rei, and I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to make you happy, and I'm sorry to be the one to make you kill yourself. I realize words will never make up for this, and I hope that one day, when we meet together when I die, you can forgive me, even if I may never forgive myself.
'Gomenasi, Rei, gomenasi.' I'm sorry Rei, I'm so sorry.
//Free to fly tonight//
//For so long my life's been sewn up tight inside your hold/ And it leaves me there without a place to call my own//
It's snowing outside. Each little snowflake drifts slowly to the ground, where it rests there with the other beautiful flakes until it will, undoubtedly, melt. And go into the ground, down deep, perhaps to never return again.
I looked at the snow drifting down and wonder if that's just natures way of saying, 'nothing perfect was meant to stay.' I think I could have figured that out on my own.
Still. . . it's very nice while it lasts . . .
But nothing lasts, does it?
I try not to, but I can't help myself, and before I know it, I'm picturing him in my mind again. I'm picturing his messy blue hair, his deep wine- colored eyes, and his ivory skin.
He's perfect, at least, in my mind. To me, that's all that matters. In truth, I'd be pissed if anyone else thought he was perfect. He's mine . . .
. . . No, he's not.
Never will be.
Damn.
//I know now what shadows can see//
It's verydark outside. Kind of like my feelings right now. Horrible thing, really, being denied by the one you love most.
Maybe it was my fault? So many people thought that there was something between her and me . . .maybe he did too, and maybe that's why he ignores me . . . I have nothing against her, but . . . I see her more as a sister, than anything else.
Right now, I'm trying as hard as I can not to be mad at her, if it was her fault he doesn't pay attention to me. She didn't know . . . she didn't bother to find out even . . .
//There's no point in running less you run with me//
I'd like to blame him, but I can't. No, he's too good for that. And I'm pathetic, calling him too good. He's so rude to all of us, and he rarely ever talks. But . . . when we need him, he's always there. Maybe he just isn't used to being around people . . . maybe . . .
The snow is coming down heavier now, and I watch in awe as the snowflakes, which were once so beautiful, start looking harsh as they come down faster, harder, with the howling wind.
Even the most beautiful thing can be dangerous. . .
He's beautiful, but oh, yes, he's very dangerous. . . not someone you'd want to cross, and if you did, you'd never make the mistake of doing it again - if you survived the first time.
I look up to him. Wish I could be like him. Always in control. Even the fact that he barely shows emotions . . . it's just something that makes him himself, you know.
//It's half the distance through the open door/ Before you cut me down//
Irregardless, it always pains me, makes me feel horrible, whenever I suggest he comes with us to go do something fun, or go for a walk, or anything, and he just glares at me.
What did I do to him? I know he's like that to everyone, but there has to be some reason . . . I swear, he's twice as cold to me. Is it because I like him? Love him even? Does he realize this, and because of this, distance himself?
He hates me.
//Again//
Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I get over it? Just once, I'd like to be able to do something, anything, without thinking of him, but everything reminds me of him.
And how he'll never like me in return.
Why?
//Let me introduce you to the end//
Some things, perhaps, are never to be found out, I guess, but it doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, thinking about all of this makes me feel horribly weird inside, like I swallowed a spike or something, and now it's slowly tearing me up inside.
I think I need to get away, but there's no place to get away to. We're here in a small hotel, and I have to share a room with him, but he's asleep right now. I should be too. We have to practice tomorrow; it's very important that we all get a good nights sleep. But I can't sleep.
Quietly, I pull on a sweatshirt over my t-shirt, and a pair of pants over my boxers, and, glancing outside, grab my coat as I leave the room. I have to get away, and the only place to do that right now is to go outside.
So I ride the elevator, as silently as possible, to the top floor of the hotel, and duck into a room marked, 'Employees only.' The stairs leading to the roof are in there, and, seeing as no one is around, I go on up to the roof.
It's cold out.
//And I feel the cold wind blowing beneath my wings/It always leads me back to suffering//
After a minute, however, I adjust to the cold. I'm terribly good at adjusting to things; it's the only way I've learned to keep a smile on my face, and laugh along with everyone else.
I feel so cheap, so fake; I want to scream. I can't, of course, because someone will hear, but I need to scream so badly . . .
I don't want the others to worry about me, but at the same time I wish that he'd worry about me, just once. I hate it, every time he glares at us, every time he disappears without notice, and I'm left to worry about him.
Does he ever worry about me?
//But I will soar until the wind whips me down/ Leaves me beaten on unholy ground again//
Not everything I do is fake, though. The smiles I smile at him when I'm happy, or when I'm congratulating him - those are as real as ever. But then he just shrugs it off, or ignores me, and I'm stuck with a frown until I paste the fake smile on my face again
It's such a joke . . . I bet he sees right through me.
//So tired now of paying my dues/I start out strong but then I always lose//
How strange . . . I'm crying now. Well, maybe not crying. There's just a few tears in my eyes and . . . ok, so I am. The cold wind blows them off my face and for just a second, I can see my own tears twinkle in the moonlight, as they become little ice crystals.
It's so beautiful, but yet so painful, because it's like each tear getting frozen represents my emotions getting frozen; the tears can't go anywhere but down to the ground once they become ice, and I can't go anywhere but down once all of my feelings are iced over.
It probably won't be much longer, especially if he doesn't stop ignoring me.
I feel like a lovesick puppy; all I want is for him to smile at me and say, 'Good job' or, even, 'You did good.' Anything. Anything at all.
//It's half the distance before you leave me behind/ It's such a waste of time//
I guess the best thing to do now is wait until my tears are gone now, so I stand still, my hair blowing in the wind, the snow swirling around me, as I cry silent tears that are louder than any sobs in the world.
Why do I let him do this to me? I love him . . . but he tortures me. Unintentionally or not, he tortures me every day, every moment that I live, that I breathe.
//Cause my shackles/ You won't be//
Every time I draw a breath.
//And my rapture/ You won't believe//
The pain that eats away at me slowly, day by day, week by week . . . it'll all end someday.
//And deep inside you will bleed for me//
I could end it now . . . I could end the pain that torments me . . .It couldn't be so hard; there are millions of things I could do. I could jump off a building, but that seems so pathetic.
Like I'm saying, 'Look at me; I can't get the guy I want so I'm going to jump off a building! Haha, there's nothing you can do to stop me.'
Truth is, when I get my mind made up, really, nothing CAN stop me.
Truth is, if I decided to kill myself now, I would, because I'm so determined.
He'd say I'm being stubborn.
I'd hold onto that, and try to change for him, but some things just never change.
//So here I slave inside of a broken dream/ Forever holding onto splitting seams//
I guess that's the only thing that I've never been able to do - change myself for him. Maybe that's why he refuses to look at me unless necessary, maybe that's why he only talks to me if absolutely needed.
Maybe it's true. . . maybe I should change.
I can't, of course, and knowing that cuts me deeper than any knife could.
Maybe I could hang myself.
//So take your piece and leave me alone to die/ I don't need you to keep my faith alive//
My own hair is long enough that all I need to do is wrap it around my neck, and tie it on something, anything . . . a tree branch, a light . . . anything.
//I know now what trouble can be/ And why it follows me so easily//
It's a shame that I can't just jump off this building. It would make everything so much easier.
The sad thing is, I can't kill myself, even not right now, when I want to most. Even knowing that I must be the most pathetic person . . . the weakest person . . . I can't do it, which makes me feel even weaker.
I can't do it, because I won't let myself stop believing that maybe there IS a chance he likes me back; even just a little. If I told anyone I couldn't kill myself because of him, they'd laugh.
I could imagine him saying that not being able to kill yourself isn't a cowardly, weak thing to do; that it's more cowardly to kill yourself, because then you get to end everything early, and you don't have to experience pain anymore.
It's the kind thing he would say, really. I know, because I know him better than he probably knows himself. And once again, I'm dead serious.
//It's half the distance through the open door/ Before you shut me down//
I could cut myself to death. A sick sort of tribute, perhaps. Carve the words, Sorry, Kai, on my arms and let myself slowly bleed to death, turning the pure white snow around me crimson red with the blood.
Maybe I'd die of cold first.
//Again//
I suppose I should be scared that I can contemplate my own death this calmly. I'm not sobbing anymore; the tears have long since crystallized on my face, leaving sparkles on my face that shouldn't be there.
I guess I'm really that far gone now that nothing really matters.
//Let me introduce you to the end//
Accidentally trip and fall off a building? That seems less attention grabbing, but . . . if I'm going to die . . . I'd like to do it in a slightly . . . well, I don't want to have him think of me as 'the kid who tripped and killed himself. Accidentally, of course.'
I can imagine his red wine eyes laughing at that. I can imagine his face lighting up into a grin if he heard that I, his admirer, and shadow, died. He'd probably be happy.
//Cause my shackles/ You won't be//
I didn't think I had any tears left in me.
//And my rapture/ You won't believe//
I'm really cold now. I don't have gloves, or a hat, only a coat and boots. My hands are shaking, and I can't really feel them. Suddenly I feel my hand close around something hard, though, and I realize I'm clutching a knife.
I'd like to wonder when I got this knife, but I remember clearly the day I bought it - it still pains me to remember . . . the look on his face . . . in my desperation, I had bought a knife to slash my wrists, and then I had put it in my coat pocket, ashamed, trying to forget about it.
//And deep inside you will bleed for me//
It's time for me to let go.
It's time for me to bleed.
//Thought you know you care//
My hand was shaking from the cold, but now it's amazingly calm as it turns the blade towards me. A few snowflakes land on the blade, and stick for a moment before melting. The knife had been near my chest all this time, and it's still warm from my body heat; what little there is left, anyway.
I'm really cold.
The first cut goes deep, right away. I slice open my left arm, from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist.
I'm too cold to feel pain.
The knife comes away from my skin dripping red, dripping my blood, and now when the snow lands on it, it melts immediately.
A second cut . . . slower, drawn out. I've thrown my coat onto the roof, and my sweat shirt too; I'm only in a thin t-shirt, and I take that off too. The second cut is slashed in a 'x' type way right below my collar bone, and a bit above the end of my ribcage.
No more cold, no more pain.
No more feeling.
No more thoughts.
//Cause my shackles/ You won't be//
No more words.
//And my rapture/ You won't believe//
Another cut, following the dripping blood down my body. The blood isn't dripping very fast; the cold is already getting to it.
//And deep inside, you will bleed for me//
I'm bleeding a lot, no matter what, though. I'm so cold. It takes much of my strength to return my thoughts to a coherent state.
I start thinking about him again, probably for the last time now.
I'll never get to be with him now, not that I ever would have been in the first place.
I'll never get to try to make him laugh now, not that I ever could have in the first place.
I'll never just get to see him again.
But it's what he wants, and I'll give him anything he wants.
Another, deep, deep, slash to my body; I twist the knife around in my hand, and carve a design on my back. I'll never see it, but I think it was a heart.
//And my laughter/ You won't hear//
Cold winds wash over me now, and I'm forced abruptly to reality. I realize I'm very cold now; my fingers are blue-tinged, and I can't feel my face, or my body, or any pain. I'm slipping back into unconsciousness. . .
//The faster/I disappear//
Using my last ounce of strength, I remember one thing. Tomorrow's Christmas.
So I take my knife, and use it to write the words, 'Merry Christmas Kai,' across my body, shoulder to shoulder, and, with a grin on my face, and the word 'love' on my lips, I allow myself to be dragged down into a never- ending sleep.
//And time will burn your eyes to tears//
'ai shiteru Kai, eien ni'
~~~
//Cool breeze and autumn leaves/Slow motion daylight//
I can't sleep right now. I don't know why, but I don't think Rei can either. I can hear someone moving about, and it's got to be him, since I'm sharing this room in the hotel with him. What could he be doing up so late?
Something about the way the air feels, the almost unnoticeable tension . . . I dare not let him notice that I'm awake too. Better to wait, better to find out first, and then learn more.
I hear the door slam, and immediately then, I sit up. I'm only in a shirt and pants, so I find myself a bit cold. It's snowing gently outside; that would mean it's quite cold outside.
The wind howls.
Where did Rei go, and why?
//A lone pair of watchful eyes/ Oversee the living//
Rei . . . he's such an enigma to me. I sometimes feel like there's so much to him I'd like to find out about, and that makes me scared. So I keep my distance from him, and he from me. The others don't realize this; they just think I'm unfriendly.
I wonder if he realizes it. And if he does, why does he do it? Is he afraid of me? Does he just not care?
I wouldn't be surprised; it's hardly like I've acted as if I've cared.
//Feel the presence all around/ A tortured soul/ A wound unhealing//
It makes me wonder . . . do I care?
I close my eyes in templation of the question, and think. I certainly act like I don't care, and I tell myself I don't care. Which in any case would mean . . . that I care a hell of a lot more than I let on.
//No regrets or promises/ The past is gone/ But you can still be free//
I guess I don't want people to know I care. Caring is a weakness. I can't have weaknesses. I have to be strong.
And where the heck is Rei anyway? It has to have been at least ten minutes since he left, and though I'm not the extremely worried type, I hardly think that it takes that long to go to the bathroom, or even to just get a snack.
He could just be wandering around, but I wouldn't think he would do that is this weather. He's not stupid. Rei is really smart; I know. I've heard him. He doesn't realize, but I listen a lot more than people would think.
Being quiet means I listen. I absorb things. I can examine them at my own will. It's why I'm so quiet; I like to analyze things.
//If time will set you free//
Where is he?
//Time now to spread your wings/ To take to flight/ The life endeavor//
I close my eyes again, and think to myself, if I were him, where would I be? Immediately I open my eyes and shake my head; I wouldn't know.
But then, this little voice in my head says, 'Go look', and suddenly I find myself pulling on a warmer shirt and putting on a coat and some gloves. 'Go look for him, you know you have to. You want to. You will.'
The voices in my head outnumber me three to one. I exit the room silently, as not to wake up anyone else. Not that I could, really, since they're all pretty heavy sleepers, and not to mention, I'm really quiet.
//Aim for the burning sun/ You're trapped inside//
Now. Where would he go? Logical tells me down, instinct says up. So I walk into the elevator, and have it take me to the highest floor. As the elevator rises, I feel my feelings rise as well. I try to squash them down, though, because emotions really screw me up.
I have weird emotions around Rei, so I avoid him. I still have them when I think about him, when I think about him with his black hair, golden eyes, and fang-bearing smile.
I don't have the time to sort out those emotions, so I always pushed them away. I wonder vaguely if maybe I shouldn't have done that.
Maybe I should have taken the time to think about what they meant.
//If time you will set you free//
I'll make up excuses for myself; I have to practice. I have to train. I have to do . . . whatever. Just so long as I'm busy, and I don't have to think about him. . .
The elevator makes a 'ding' noise, and I get out as fast as I can. This floor only has the four biggest, grandest suites, and a 'employees only' room.
On which the door is slightly open.
Rei must have gone through here, I'm positive no employee would be awake this early, or this late. I'm not sure exactly what time it is, but it is most defiantly past midnight.
What's this? I notice a flight of stairs at the back of the room. A quick search around the room reveals no Rei, so either he went up the stairs or he's not here.
I'm hoping he went up the stairs, because I'm running up them as fast as I can. Something, I don't know what, is telling me to go as fast as I can.
I fling open the door, and realize I'm on the roof. As I step out, a number of things bombard me at once.
The cold.
The wind.
Rei.
//But it's a long long way to go//
My breath catches as I see Rei's back. It's naked, and blood drips down it; blood from a crudely carved heart. Snow and ice swirl around him, and land in his hair.
//Keep moving way up high/ You see the light/ It shines forever//
I realize that something is terribly wrong here, and make to move forward, but my legs have failed me and I can only stare at the terrible sight.
//Sail through the crimson skies/ The purest light/ The light that sets you free//
Rei slowly stands, and I can see blood running down him in many different places. What did he do to himself? What's wrong? Why can't I move? Why can't I do anything?
Helpless.
I feel helpless.
I've never felt this way before. It scares me, and my eyes stay wide open as Rei turns towards me, but he's so out of it he doesn't even see me. His lips form words, and I notice the words along his chest.
'Merry Christmas Kai.'
I think I'm going to be sick.
//If time will set you free//
The wind carries his whispered words over, 'ai shiteru, Kai, eien ni.' I love you Kai, eternally.
No.
//Sail through the wind and rain tonight//
No.
This is wrong, this is . . .
Please.
Let this all be a sick dream.
//You're free to fly tonight//
Don't let this be real.
//And you can still be free//
Let me wake up screaming, because I can't scream now, no matter how hard I try.
//If time will set you free//
Rei. . . is this the emotions I felt towards you? Love? Is love why I pushed you away? Is . . . is love why you took your own life today?
//And going higher than mountain tops/ And go high the wind won't stop//
No. . .
//And go high//
This can't be right. It can't be. Tears are coming faster now, and I can finally move. I run to Rei's body; it's cold, crusted in blood, and his eyes are closed. Peacefully.
I cradle his dead body and tears come even faster. How could I have done this? How couldn't I have noticed?
//Free to fly tonight//
I hope you're happy now, where you are Rei, and I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to make you happy, and I'm sorry to be the one to make you kill yourself. I realize words will never make up for this, and I hope that one day, when we meet together when I die, you can forgive me, even if I may never forgive myself.
'Gomenasi, Rei, gomenasi.' I'm sorry Rei, I'm so sorry.
//Free to fly tonight//