Title: Chocolate Eyes
Chapter: 1/1
Warnings: AT; shounen-ai; sap; fluff; angst; POV
Pairing: KenxRan
Archive:
A/N: Companion to "Flaming Perfection"

"Why did you choose me?" He whispered one night, his chocolate orbs fixed on me as I contemplated the question he was asking.

"Because you're you," I said, monotone. He pulled me into his comforting embrace. I moved closer to him, seeking the warmth that only he was able to give to me. He stroked my hair slowly, and I suppose he was thinking about what I said to him. I didn't ask him why he chose me. It wasn't that important to me at the moment.

But...Ken...he had always been too nice to reject anyone. Although, he would decline if it interfered with soccer or the children that he taught. What am I worried about? He initiated it, although, he wouldn't have if I hadn't had that nightmare.

Aya was in it. She was covered in blood, head to toe. Her eyes, they were red. They were blood red. And she stood in a puddle of the fluid, an arm raised as she began to rot. She held her arm out to be. "Nii-chan." She said, softly at first, advancing towards me slowly.

I backed away, and raised my sword. Her skin began to melt away and the stench of a rotting corpse filled my senses. She came closer to me, one arm fell to the ground, and I could see her innards appearing as she said it again. "Nii-chan...." I tripped over something, and she was soon standing above me.

"Nii-chan...why am I stained in blood?" She questioned, her voice as light and bubbly as it had ever been. I could hardly recognize her now, all of her hair had disappeared, and the odor was overpowering. And as she reached to me, I slashed at her with my sword. It went through her like butter, and then I screamed.

"Aya..." Someone said, and the dream faded away. It was replaced with unfamiliar warmth I knew I hadn't had for a long time. "Sssh...it's okay." The image of my imouto gone, I was able to calm myself down.

"Stay with me." I choked, groping at the open air for the person who made that hell leave. Whoever it was climbed off me, and took the covers off. The body lay next to me, and the covers were pulled back up. I buried my head in his chest, and then fell asleep, but not before feeling a slight pressure atop my head.

The next morning, I awoke to someone staring at me. And as I looked up, the face came into focus. That was when I realized that it was Ken. "Ken." I acknowledged the brunette. My eyes widened, before I untangled myself from him.

His eyes widened as well, as he too noticed the position that we had just been in. "Ne...last night you were having a nightmare..." He mumbled, stumbling slightly over his words as he told me why he was there with me.

"Aa." I looked at the ceiling. "Ken..." I said his name again, and I saw him raise an eyebrow as he looked at me and then the ceiling. "What do you dream about?" I asked him. He opened his mouth, but all I heard was silence. Speechless.

"I...I" I watched him close his eyes tightly. "Death...blood..." He managed to say, before closing his eyes even tighter. Blocking everything out. "I did it all. Small children crying as they stare at their father dying in his own pool of blood." He opened his eyes, and looked at me. I looked back. "I can see myself standing in the corner of the room. No matter who dies... no matter what happens, I'm there. Do you know what I'm doing, Aya?" I shook my head. Crying, perhaps? "I'm laughing," he whispered, voice filled with disbelief.

"Ken..." I said his name again, a gesture of comfort. Attempts.

"What do you dream about, Aya?" He asked me.

"My imouto and her blood-stained name." I looked over at him, trying to keep myself from crying. And he looked at me. And we just kept looking at each other, as if the other's eyes were the only other thing that seemed to exist in the world we were in.

Was this because we were trying to interpret each other? To interpret each other's dreams? The meaning of them? Or were we trying to figure out how alike we really were?

He leaned in, and I held my breath. I felt the firm pressure of his lips over my own. I began to pull back, but a hand kept me from moving. He looked at me, and I responded by hesitantly pressing my lips to his.

He bit at my lips, begging them to open. Once inside, our tongues battled for dominance. Bodies getting closer as we explored each other. Hands roaming just under a shirt.

Gasping for breath, he leaned away. "What was that for?" I managed to croak, voice so quiet I could barely hear it myself. Narrowing my eyes, I looked at him coldly. "Hidaka. I demand an explanation."

Without answering, he leaned in again. A gentle kiss this time, chaste. My swollen and slightly sore lips were massaged by the gentle caresses of his tongue.

That was when I realized why I chose to kiss him back. To choose him as my lover. The waterfall of emotions that he tries to hide in his chocolate eyes. Almost overwhelming, but it allowed me to share everything with him.

He was what I needed to make myself whole. To fulfill myself in a sense.

The pure lust and love that could be seen when he pulled away from the sweet, chaste kiss. The emotions that were hidden for so long washed over me like the tides wash over the sand at the beach.

And because he understands me. Because I could never share my life without someone who had not gone through what I had. To go insane with hiding everything, to never truly share everything as two people in love should.

The disgust that you may be hit with when they find out what you had done. When you realize that you never were in love, because as soon as they find out what you really are, you are rejected.

And maybe next time, I'll ask him the question. "Why did you choose me?" And whether he responds or not, I'll tell him why he was chosen out of the billions of people in the world, out of the millions in Tokyo.

"Because you're you."

-Owari
03.23.03