Wow, I haven't written a story in a while. Not to mention such an effing strange one. Look, I don't know, I read Kafka on the Shore (weird-ass book but a great read) and one scene inspired me to do this. So, Rate and Review please, and I hope that you will enjoy it!
Blah, Blah, Loveless doesn't belong to me, EVER.
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How the gentle winds of red maple leaves were suddenly replaced with a downpour of large, colorful carp, people weren't able to predict. They fell without warning, a sudden scaly glint against a marble colored sky, finally assuming the form of numerous, falling fish, pounding and attacking the streets, writhing, gasping.
That one eccentric shower managed to catch Ritsuka on his way to the bus, the first one landing with a loud slimy thump in front of him. While Ritsuka stared in dumbfounded amazement at the floundering, speckled creature, another hit the earth, this time a few paces in front of the first. At this, he broke into a run, shielding his head as he searched for cover.
The afternoon still was charged with panic as others ran, shouting, for the nearest shelter from this strange and sudden shower, dodging under marquees, ducking into closed alleyways, charging into the closest buildings. The numerous shielded groups that formed suddenly and rapidly watched the falling carp in complete silence, as if witnessing a strange and sacred ceremony preformed by some unknown god.
What the also did was take up space. Depleted of protection, Ritsuka was forced to run into the nearest park, avoiding trees in fear of falling branches (numerous limbs were already lying around on the ground due to the impact) until finally ducking under a large stone bridge, which strangely enough, no others had taken advantage of the peaceful recluse it provided.
It was cool and dark under the wide bridge, and from his shelter, Ritsuka could watch the storm of carp pound against the earth without any danger for himself. It was hard not to watch as one of the hundreds of fish would fall upon the ground, would gasp and shudder violently for a few moments, gills flapping, and finally lie still, its jaws wide open, the eyes blank. It was a fantastic and bizarre sight. Brilliant orange and gold corpses lay about everywhere, one following another.
Ristuka almost didn't catch the sound of hurried footsteps that echoed within the bridge's protection and the exhausted panting that followed it. Turning around, he saw a tall adult grasping at his knees, gasping for breath. A few of the white bandages around his slender neck had come loose and they dangled haphazardly in front of his collarbones.
Finally looking up, he met Ritsuka's wide eyes and grinned. "Imagine seeing you here." He said, his deep voice echoing within the dark shadow of the bridge.
Ritsuka raised his eyebrows as Soubi walked over next to him in a few strides, then he quickly turned his gaze back towards the imbalanced scene that he was previously watching, avoiding the adult's blue eyes. Soubi's unpredicted arrival had charged the air with a familiar, clenching tension.
"Acting so surprised, as if you didn't somehow know I was here anyway." Ritsuka growled.
"And so what if I did? One could always use a little company at times like this." Was Soubi's cheerful reply.
This annoyed Ritsuka. His ears flat against his head, he muttered, "What were you doing in the park anyway?"
"What were you?"
"Just answer me."
"I was taking a walk."
"A walk."
"Yes."
He reppressed a snort at Soubi's reply. He replied with a bored hum and continued to stand in silence, the adult beside him. The quiet didn't feel awkward. Just peaceful in the midst of the now slightly fiercer downpour of carp.
But after a moment, he asked, "Doesn't this sort of stuff happen when there is a typhoon or something? I know nothing like that happened around here. Recently, I mean."
A carp landed with an audible plop at the edge of the bridge's wide shadow, its golden scales giving off a dull shine, its gills flapping.
Soubi shrugged and said, "I heard somewhere that fish or what have you falling out of the sky doesn't have anything to do with the weather. At times it's just an unforeseen natural phenomenon that comes out of the blue without any reason whatsoever." He glanced at Ritsuka with a small, strange smile, and returned his gaze to the struggling fish, its gills flapping somewhat weaker than earlier.
"Oh." Was all Ritsuka could think to reply.
Soubi's smile grew wider. "This reminds me of that old story with the carps flying out of the sea and into the sky. The ones that turned into dragons."
"Yeah, but these carps are falling. And obviously not morphing into dragons." The carp was now completely still.
"Well, true. Guess the carps failed then."
Ritsuka snorted at this. Then, suddenly turning to Soubi, he said, "Don't you think that something like this could make a good painting?"
Now turning back his gaze towards Ritsuka, Soubi answered thoughtfully, "It probably would. A surrealistic edge to reality, hmm?"
"Yeah, I guess."
Soubi sighed and leaned against the cool wall of the base of the bridge, pushing a few strands of blonde hair out of his face.
The carp, seen as many orange blobs from a distance, were becoming more numerous, scattered across the pathways and meadows of the park. Many trees were adorned with the things, large scaly ornaments hanging off branches and limbs of black trees. The smell of fish was gradually growing stronger.
Ritsuka heard Soubi slide down to the ground with a tired groan. He wondered whether he should say anything.
But then a sudden whim seized him (perhaps it was the whole oddity of the situation that had produced it) and he turned around toward the adult, who was now looking the other way, where even more bright carp seemed to be falling, and walked up towards him, his tail swaying back in forth in an inquisitive manner.
Soubi took note of the sudden change, looked up at Ritsuka and grinned. "What?" he said laughing.
In response, Ritsuka shot his gaze towards the dark ground , curved his lips up in a slight smile, and said, "Nothing. I just feel a little odd, I guess." He looked back up, meeting smiling blue eyes. "Maybe it's the weather?"
Soubi chuckled and with a slight beckoning finger said, "Come here."
After a very short moment of hesitation, Ritsuka kneeled down and cuddled into Soubi's chest. Soubi, somewhat uncertainly himself, curled his long arms across the boy's small back and pulled him even closer, resting his cheek against Ritsuka's black hair. In response, Ritsuka placed his head in the crook of Soubi's neck, at ease. The cigarette smell killed the fish stench, buzzed it out of Ritsuka's reality.
"How much longer do you think this will continue?" Ritsuka asked quietly.
"Hmm, don't know. Perhaps forever." Soubi said with an odd tone. One of his hands slid across Ritsuka's cheek, then started to play with a loose strand of dark hair, twirling the lock deftly in long fingers.
Through Ritsuka's half closed eyes, the falling carp blurred into faintly illuminated irregular shapes, like many falling lanterns. They showed no sign of stopping even falling harder than before.
"Forever sounds nice." Ritsuka murmured into Soubi's neck, his eyes now closed completely. The hand moved back to Ritsuka's cheek and stroked at the soft skin.
"Certainly does." Breathed Soubi.
Then there was a strange sensation of something slipping into Ritsuka's mind, something delicate and foreign, a shadow. And he suddenly felt like he knew everything about the man he was holding on so tightly to, his whims and desires, even though he still barely knew him. It was like holding the most fragile glass ball that would break if he moved it even by a minimal amount. What had happened? Was it him? Or the carp? He didn't know, and wasn't sure if he cared, as long as he was able to hold it for as long as he could.
As he drew in another relaxed breath, inhaling the man's musky scent, he thought about the foreign thing that was being so carefully carried by his mind, feeling oddly triumphant over what he had just caught.
But only for that split moment.
Two seconds more, and it slipped from his grasp like a small fish, and broke into a thousand shards, which faded away to some distant place. He struggled to regain it, swiping at it but to no avail. And if anything, Soubi felt it too, an evanescent understanding, long fingers tightening on the fabric of Ritsuka's coat with sore attempts to pull the boy in even closer, taking in obviously distressed draws of breath.
And then a sudden silence reigned.
Ritsuka opened his eyes. It had stopped. A few of the fish were still writhing on the ground. In Ritsuka's eyes, they suddenly looked parasitic and foul.
"It stopped." Whispered Soubi. The warm breath tickled Ritsuka's ear.
"Y-yeah. I realized that." Said Ritsuka, assuming a grumpy tone and drawing himself away from the man.
The two stared at where the fish fell, both feeling slightly perturbed at the loud silence, and they stood up simultaneously.
Attempting another closeness, Ritsuka reached out his hand and asked, "Well, are we going?"
Soubi bit his lip, an uncharacteristic act of agitation, and said, "Not yet."
Ritsuka's arm fell back limply to his side and he answered, "Okay."
A cold breeze whistled through the battered trees and through the bridge, blowing back their messy hair. Ritsuka looked back up at Soubi and saw that the adult had his eyebrows furrowed in a confused, thoughtful frown. Had he truly felt that? The shadow of a full bond? How did it feel for him?
But all of those questions blanked out of his head as Soubi turned back to Ritsuka, staring intently into the other's eyes. He knelt down, grasped Ritsuka gently by his face, and pressed his forehead to Ritsuka's own, some strange desperation visible in how he carried out this spontaneous act.
And then the only hope that Ritsuka had in his head was that the orange carp would soon rain down again.
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