Title: Don't
Author: Inkcharm
Summary: Two words spoken. Two hearts broken. Two worlds destroyed. Don't... but in the end, they do.
Warnings: major angst
Disclaimer: The movie "Moon Child" does not belong to me, nor do its characters or anything related to it. I make no profit out of this story, it is written merely for fun and entertainment of other fans.
Part: 1/1
Don't
Ikanaide – Don't go
Nakanaide – Don't cry
„Ikanaide."
The voice broke upon the last syllable; a desperate plea that echoed in the silence that followed. There was a void in the room that could not be filled, least of all with more words.
They stood still for the longest time. Silence of the most dreadful sort descended upon the small apartment that had been their home for such a long time, for years that had seemed endless to Sho. Each morning he'd known where he was waking up, and each night he'd known what he was returning to.
The young man knew every nook of this apartment by heart, from the cigarette burn in the carpet under the armchair to where they had never bothered to fix the torn wallpaper. Each imperfection, each covered up stain, each clean spot had a story to tell, and Sho knew each story inside out. Tonight, though, he had no eyes for the details that told the story of their life and friendship. Tonight he only saw the figure of the man who would break his heart.
Kei was all too aware of this. Unlike his human companion he let his eyes roam, had done so ever since he had stuffed the last shirt into his travel bag. He was saying goodbye to the goldfish circling in their plain tank, to the faded patterns on the blanket Sho had given him for their first Christmas spent together, to the clothes that were much too large for him but kept appearing in his closet nonetheless because neither of them was particularly fond of dealing with the laundry properly.
He had said goodbye to all of them, prolonging the moment of his departure until Sho burst into the apartment as he'd known the human would. Toshi's death weighed heavy on both their hearts, and though both where ashamed they knew exactly what hung between them now. You could have saved him had you fed. These were the kind of words that Sho would never say aloud, that Kei constantly told himself in silence, and yet both of them were too aware of their existence.
Rain pattered against a window; the music of things falling apart. Once they could have faced every hardship with the knowledge that they'd always have each other. Or maybe that had just been what Kei had allowed Sho to believe, for the vampire had always been too aware of their bond's frailty. Mortality and depression were the two things that stood between them like no other. With each day Sho aged he also became a slightly different person. A change in body and mind that drove Kei further into depression, for it only served to remind him of what he would lose in the end. There was no way he could hold onto Sho. It was beyond his control. Letting go, however, was something within his power.
In a way it was more important. Sho would never become the man he was supposed to be with Kei weighing him down. Today had proven that heartbreak lay down that road. His own nature had served to connect any ties he had ever hoped to have with Son and Yi-Che, Toshi was dead and...
He had destroyed enough, had he not? There was no way for him to right his wrongs anymore, no way to atone for what he had done. Whatever happened next, it would be worse for his presence. It tore him apart to hurt Sho like this, but the firm belief that going now would hurt less in the long run than sticking around and causing more misery gave him the strength he needed.
Only it was not strength. It was cowardice, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise. The knowledge that in the end he was running away as much for his own sake as for Sho's, if not more, shamed him and only made him want to run faster.
Kei shook his head ever so faintly. Toshi's death would be his last, his worst mistake. The guilt would be a burden he'd have to carry for eternity, for he knew deep in his heart that as much as he mourned the loss of dear Toshi, it wasn't enough to push him into seeking out the sun once again. He was neither weak enough not to care anymore nor was he desperate enough to have the courage.
Sometimes he wanted to believe that his friendship with Sho had changed something within him. Maybe not for the better, but for good at least. As warm hands closed around his upper arms, he longed for the knowledge that their connection had changed him, had touched him so deeply that upon leaving he was not the same person as he had been when he came into Sho's life. But deep down he knew it was not so. The bitter truth was that he was unable to change. He was part of the landscape. Change was something he could only hope to occur over a very long period time, and even then it didn't come from within. But while the human thought he'd spent half a lifetime with Kei, the vampire knew how fleeting their time together had been. Like sand running through his fingertips he had watched this precious time slip away, had watched it fade until the moment came when he knew with heartbreaking clarity that it would come to an end.
That end was tonight.
Warm hands wrapped around his shoulders and he looked up.
Sho could hardly make out his friend's features through the blur of tears. The moment Kei had torn away from the corpse he'd fed from and sped off into the rain he had known what would happen . It was as if his heart barely even knew from what to break first. How could he survive losing both Toshi and then Kei like that? He needed the vampire. And he knew that deep down, Kei needed him just as much.
The vampire liked to believe himself utterly independent and devoid of any attachments, but the truth was that Sho could see the faint shimmer in his eyes, the tears he wouldn't allow himself to shed. They were tears for everything he was losing today – the first of his little family lost to death, the rest lost to the truth. For it was nothing less but the truth he was running away from, nothing less than the truth he couldn't face. Where Sho had been able to accept, the others were repulsed with good reason, where Sho had tried to adapt, no one else would, and in the end Sho was still just a boy and he would change. So would Kei, though the vampire blatantly refused to see it. He already was changing.
In was in the way he didn't shrug off Sho's touch anymore, in the way the expression on his face would always turn somewhat torn between longing and sadness and warmth when he looked at all of them. It was in the gentle spark that Sho could see whenever their eyes met.
Desperate to give him a reason to stay, to make him see, to finally make him strong enough for both of them, Sho leant down, meaning to capture those soft lips even as the first tear rolled over his cheek. He met cold fingertips.
As he sobbed, wanting to plead with Kei but not finding the voice to do so, the cool hand slipped from his lips, caressed his cheek and wandered further, tangling in his damp hair. Kei pushed his nose against Sho's, a gesture that was innocent and intimate. They both breathed in, treasuring each ohter's scent. Cigarettes and rain, coffee and tea, blood and Kei's bed, cheap shower gel and soft, human skin. Yearning slowly opened its enormous jaws, so ravenous as though it would swallow them whole, and they shifted slightly. Their bodies aligned themselves with each other, their breaths become one. At this point their lips were almost touching. Kei felt warm breath ghosting over his skin and he shivered. They were but a hair's breadth from making contact, but the gap was still as broad as an ocean.
Sho's heartbeat was like waves breaking on the shore. A melody only for Kei to behold; water rushing in to claim sandcastles long forgotten. The sea beckoned him and he wanted to give in, wanted to drown and lose himself and give. But he knew he would not. The salt on his lips was not that of the ocean but of tears, the slightly tanned skin would not bring him the scorching sun he so longed for but a love burning so deep it scared him. Losing himself in Sho would be his undoing, but it was not of the kind he so desperately hoped for.
Small were the hands that held him in place, small but filled with such a strength that Sho couldn't bridge the distance between them. He wanted to yell, wanted Kei to realize that he didn't need to give in to weakness. He could stay and fight. For himself, for them, for Sho. For love, maybe, or for friendship. Whatever it was, as long as Kei would just fight. Didn't he know that he would never be alone, that Sho would always remain by his side?
Sho knew very well he would die one day and leave Kei behind. But he wanted Kei to take that chance, to face that heartache, because wouldn't that pain be worth all the memories they had made until then, all the time they had left to explore their feelings? Life might be fleeting, but love did not die. It would live on as long as Kei was there, and Sho would wait for him wherever they'd go in death if he ever chose to end it. Wasn't that worth the pain of mourning the loss of your loved one?
Wasn't HE worth it to Kei?
He was. Ultimately, though, that was exactly what scared Kei away.
In the end he had no idea how long they were standing together like that, almost but not quite kissing. Sho's tears dripped on both their quivering lips and Kei was almost tempted to catch the drops with his tongue, to taste that purity. Even in the darkness behind his eyelids he could see Sho so clearly, so vividly, and he knew that no matter how many years passed, that particular heartbeat would stay with him. Their connection would only ever be severed by death, and he hoped for Sho's sake that it would be long years until then.
Cold breath ghosted over Sho's lips as a final word was uttered. Their eyes opened. Moss-green orbs asked for a farewell, but deep inside Sho knew that he would never grant Kei that. To him, this would always be a goodbye. No matter how long it took, he knew his heart and soul would not let go of Kei, would chain his memories and hold onto them with all the strength the human possessed. Within Kei's eyes, however, he could see just how much the vampire needed this to be the last time they ever saw each other.
Kei would not watch over him from a distance, from the shadows, would never be his mysterious guardian. He would take his leave; and if he had anything to say about it they would never meet again.
They parted without having kissed that night, and in a way both of them knew that they would never get another chance to make this right. While their feelings for each other would always be treasured by heavy hearts, they knew deep down that this had been a moment of now or never.
Never it was.
Sho didn't follow his best friend, his trusted companion, his love as he walked away. Kei's parting words hung in his ears, a plea that broke him and changed him, for he intended to make sure the vampire would never have to ask him this again when their paths crossed once more.
As the door shut silently, as Kei walked out of his life and broke both their hearts beyond repair, Sho felt as though he was forever caught in that timeless moment of having Kei's lips almost upon his own, and he knew he would forever regret this moment. He swallowed his tears then, and each sob held back was him begging for Kei to look, to see he was heeding the last word spoken between them, to see that they could make each other strong enough. From the bottom of his heart and soul he needed Kei to turn around and come back, because Sho was trying so hard to be the man he needed to be for the both of them, the man that could have saved Toshi, the man that could have held onto Kei...
Only in the end... he couldn't.
Tears were once again falling freely, the salt tasting of a kiss that had never happened.
"Nakanaide."
Fin...