Warning: minor spoiler.
He looked up in fear; all I wanted to do was soothe him. Could I not do that? A simple embrace? I reach up and hold him from behind. I gently place my chin on his shoulder and hope that he will love me at least one millionth of how much I love him. Ah. But now I realize. He was not afraid of me…of this person in front of us…of his mother. He fears the solitude he so humbly asks for. He dreads the fact that he doesn't know what he is doing, that he is so much younger than I, and what we might be doing…the consequences of it. I know. I know my sweet little butterfly, I know. These eyes that have been accused of various degrees of perversity are nothing but love and understanding for you, Ritsuka.
Oh my Ritsuka. I love you. If I have to say it more I will; I love you , Ritsuka. I love you, Ritsuka. I love you, Ritsuka. Your eyes so young have seen many things no one wishes upon a child-or not. Maybe that's a one of many I love about you, Ritsuka. How you are so much older than your physical body will allow, that you know so much more about things than I, that your innocence clears away the murky haze and toxic gases from you, and allows you to see the world more clearly than I. I love you, Ritsuka. I do. I do, Ritsuka. I love everything about you, Ritsuka. I love the way your tail swishes happily at the mere sight of me, and how you press your ears down against your scalp in hopes you don't appear too exultant at my approach, oh and how you fight your blush.
Oh Ritsuka…I love everything about you. Your body, too young to know the physical side of love other than my kisses, yet those eyes, Ritsuka…Oh those eyes…They reveal everything about you, Ritsuka. Everything. The admiration and love for me. Me, Ritsuka. Me. A horrible, ugly, earless adult. And when you grow irritated or angry, one look at those eyes makes me want to kill the cause; but then again, I'm usually the initiator.
And when I look into those godly eyes, no matter the emotion…Ritsuka…you're always so sad. So lonely, Ritsuka. When we go out, I know you worry for your mother…for the Seimei that abandoned you to prove to himself you loved him. For the 'friends' you have at school. I know you are human, Ritsuka. I know that. I know that by human nature, by yours, Ritsuka, that you make 'friends' quite easily. And I love the naitivity in your eyes when you talk about them. And I'm happy for you. Ritusuka, I am. But it is in mynature to want to be the only one for you. The only one you think of, dream of, talk about, envisage, direct your attention to, love; me. Me, Ritsuka, me. Not the friends. Not your abusive mother who may or may not care about you. Or Seimei. The Seimei still alive and waiting for you. I want all of your attention. Everyday. Every hour. Every minute. Me, Ritsuka. Focus on me. Please? Please...?
That is what I want, Ritsuka. But the great web of chains and thorns that God has laid out is full of pitfalls and demons, Ritsuka. Tempation. That's all. I've given in. It is a sin. Greed. Gluttony. Call it that, now that I've sampled what your love is, Ritsuka, I cannot live unless you tell me when we meet in thirty-one minutes and twenty seconds…nineteen…eighteen…seventeen… that you love me. But knowing you, Ritsuka, your shy self, that quiet and humble Ritsuka that blushes at every word that leaves me, you won't. But its okay, Ritsuka. You let me know every other possible way that your young, little body can, that you love me. That you love me. Me, Ritsuka. Me. I know.
How? 'How?' you ask? I know what the love from you to your mother looks like, Ritsuka. It's a damaged honeysuckle. Something, a love, that was once so sweet and perfected by nature that no amount of salt could bitter it. That love that has been trampled on and set aflame to by too many things done wrong to the poor woman. That is her gift of nature. A damaged honeysuckle flower and nectar. Seimei's…Seimei's flower is more durable, heartily connected. Burnt…and falsely misleadingly, slowly regenerating. A snakes tounge. The protective layer around the center has safe-guareded you many after many times before Seimei's disappearance, and even after, in some of my space in your head, you think of him and it gives you courage.
Our flower, Ritsuka…Oh its so beautiful, Ritsuka. It has no name, for a love like ours has never been conquered before. A love that has no name, so many insecurities, so many defaults, so many wrongs in it, is still by far, the most beautiful of everything I have - except for you.
Now, Ritsuka, now. I can bear it no longer, the fresh, air-polluting stick I've placed in my mouth in a futile attempt to calm my nerves is no match for your sweet, amiable, unconquerable adoration. I want you to call me and order me to pick you up, to storm into that room, lift you out of your chair and storm back out - taking care to gently close the door upon our leave, of course, your poor teacher probably hates me - but I don't care. I don't care at all for that person.
Lost in my thoughts and memories of you, time has frozen, thawing at an unbearable rate…a mere five minutes has passed, and I look back up into the classroom I've memorized, the seat I can see from here that you'd be in, that black hair, the…dead eyes…that would be looking out of the window everywhere. Everywhere, yes. Everywhere, but still not seeing me…
What's this?! You look down at me! You can see me! Ritsuka! Ritsuka! Oh, my Ritsuka…you blush and furiously look down at your legs. I can't see anything more that your neck, chest maybe, but I can tell... When you don't want me to know something, you shove your hands between your thighs in hopes of preventing any fiddling or uncontrollable shaking of them. Oh, Ritsuka. You're so beautiful. The phone in my pocket vibrates, the movement of the phone playing our tune. I fetch it, greatly eager, too much, but needing to keep a calm façade as to imitate you in giving a lack of knowledge, not wanting the other to know how much pleasure a simple gesture would bring.
'What are you doing, Soubi?!' The message says. I reply, 'Chuu, Ritsuka. I'm waiting for you.' The message is sent after the pressure on that green little button, and I turn, slowly, but again, eagerly, hoping to see your face as you receive it. Aw, my lovely little Ritsuka…I can see your blush from here. Your ears are hiding, worshiping your skull, and your cheeks are struggling to stay at a frown as you unsuccessfully attempt to glare at me.
You look down for a bit, and my phone soon begins its most loved pattern again. I open that wonderful little piece of technology, and read what it is you've said. 'Soubi! I know you were waiting for me…I meant, why are you smoking on school grounds?! …How long have you been waiting?'
Oh my beautiful Ritsuka. Considerate as ever…'Do you want me to put it out? And I haven't been waiting long.'Was two hours long? Oh my Ritsuka, I can't wait until you get out of school. I'm going to pull you closely to me, as I do every day, and vow never to let go until commanded, at which point only my concern for your small lungs brings me to break it.
These texts have been going on forever, my exaggeration and I enjoy it immensely. I've asked you what you're doing, and you reply nothing. It's bad…you should be paying attention to your schoolwork, but I'm all too happy to have your attention to say what you are doing wrong. In one of those heavenly messages, you grace me with a kiss. Cyberetically of course, but it was still a kiss if you participated too. Finally, you reply, 'I'll see you in a minute, Soubi…' and I've known for quite a while now that when you said that, you meant the teacher was being a horrible klutz and decided to let you out a bit early.
Thank you, thank you whatever god there is that also takes pleasure in my time with you, Ritsuka, for here you come now; head down and eyes falsely guarded as you endure the painful wraith of the bosomous, pink haired, overly loquacious, sixth grader beside you, and the other quiet one that seeks after her….and that I think Kio would absolutely adore.
And now my attention is back to you, the shortest…the most complex, the most fair, and the most unreplacablest of all. I saw you peer at me under those glossy lashes, then quickly look back down with a blush that you know was caused by the obviousness of the motion.
***
Night has now come, I've spent most of it with you, you've ordered me to depart, and I have. And now I don't know what to do with myself. I've gone through all the motions of preparing to sleep, mostly for Kio…but as I sit on my balcony…waiting…hoping for you to call me back to you, I find that tonight I will receive no rest, no rest at all if I cannot see you once more. I dress casually, as casually as I can for a midnight stroll in the streets of Japan, and set off to see you. Even if you are asleep, I still wish to touch your precious face once more.
Almost there, I'm almost there, Ritsuka. I'm on your street, nearing your house, that blue and white house your mother has decided to repaint…
Ah. The window…the window I've made entrance of many, many times, and the window I've gone through leaving many, too many things unresolved to burden you.
AN: First chapter of two (maybe? more?); a simple piece of writing that I found not too long ago, thought I should post it.