Authoress' Notes:
Well, this fic is based heavily off of two of my friends, who are going out with each other, but who seem totally set on finding some reason it won't work. Pessimistic much, ne? -.- Yeah… they're really frustrating me, and, as is often the case, Akabane-sama-who-lives-in-my-head stepped up to the plate and is my current sympathetic confidante. (Yes… I'm seriously so weird that I talk to fictional bishounen when I'm upset. :3)
Anyways, I just reread chapters 12 and 13 of Amethyst Hunter-sama's amazing fic "30 Kisses: The Serpent and the Jackal". (Those two chapters make up an amazing story, "Whispers". I highly, highly, INSANELY recommend that any Akabane fan read at the very least that one story!) My story is, essentially, two journal entries (really diary entries, but they think "journal" sounds manly) written on that day.
For those of you who want to read my fic first, here's the basic overview: Ban made Akabane-sama promise not to kill if he can avoid it. Akabane-sama tries, but over the course of a horrible day (the "whispers" mentioned are his blood lust, basically), he ends up breaking his promise, and he gets kinda worried about whether or not Ban really meant it when he said that he'd end it if Akabane went psycho again. My summary does nothing to convey the true glory of that fic- just read it!
Anyways, yeah… please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I dun own anything! The fic that inspired me belongs to the incredible Amethyst Hunter-sama.
nyanyanyanyanya
Good Enough
A simple, cheap, black and white notebook, with wrinkled pages. The front cover reads, "Property of the Invincible Midou Ban-sama— STAY AWAY!" The entries are written in a variety of materials- ink of every color, sharpened pencils, dull pencils, and even one or two entries in what looks suspiciously like crayon. The man leans back in his chair, running a broad hand through his spiky brown hair, as he looks over what he's written.
What am I doing? I know this'll never work out.
I… I guess I should admit it to myself. I love that damn Jackal.
I hate who he is, though. Why? Why can't he just stop having those damn impulses to kill? I know he can't help it… I know he's trying as hard as he can to stop that craving for blood, but why can't he try harder, dammit?
Am I asking too much, asking him to lay off the "J"ing? What if he can't? I know I told him I'd call it off if he did it any more… but I'm hoping that he's able to listen to me. What if he's not? I know it's getting worse… Why can't I be more accepting of who he is? Why can't I just let him kill a few thugs now and then? I can't do that, of course, but am I expecting too much of him? I don't think I am…
This morning, something was definitely up. Why wouldn't he tell me? Am I being so strict that he's afraid to tell me?
Is our minute up? Is this dream going to end because of me, because I was too demanding? Is it all over because I was too selfish, because I tried to change him too much?
Am I not good enough to make this work?
Moaning in frustration, Midou Ban closes his journal and leans back in his chair, worrying and wondering over his ultimatum, his Jackal, and his future.
--
Inside the quiet cab of a large truck, a white-gloved hand places a pen back into a black pocket. Amethyst eyes narrow, considering the words written on the crisp white pages in neat, tidy black ink. The journal's brown leather jacket contrasts sharply with the snowy gloves as the man reads.
What, oh what, have I done?
I promised. I promised Midou-kun I'd behave, and I broke that promise.
I deserve whatever happens, no matter what these damn voices try to tell me… I know I deserve to lose Midou-kun, but I don't want to.
I've found something so interesting, so exciting! Is it all going to crumble away? Am I going to be forced back into reality, because I just had to spill a little blood? I know I had to do something… but couldn't I have held back? I promised, after all. A professional keeps his promises, no matter what.
Then why didn't I? Am I no longer a professional? Will Midou-kun be professional, and keep the threat he made? Am I going to lose him?
Am I not good enough to make this work?
Akabane Kurodou closes his journal, and turns to gaze out the window, still struggling to ignore the whispers that pound through his head. He thinks of home, no longer a place of certain security, and worries over his broken promise, his snake-master, and his future.
nyanyanyanyanya
Different from my usual stuff… if you haven't already, please do go and read "Whispers". It's well worth it, and it'll probably make my work clearer.
Please review!