fandom: Viewfinder
title: The world of light and the world of darkness.
pairing: Asami + Akihito
rating: pg-13
description – This is a two-part fic about Akihito asking for his freedom of choice and Asami finally letting himself go.
Disclaimer – Viewfinder isn't mine.
The world of light and the world of darkness.
By miyamoto yui
Start / Akihito – Passion.
"What time is it anyway?"
I talk to myself as if it's worth the effort.
In your own world, there are things that you cannot tell anyone, not even to yourself. It isn't denial, but an optimism that you can't distinguish if it is between what you want to believe versus what is there. Is it the same as not seeing the faults of others but blindly focusing on what they can do well?
I cannot answer this question. My answer only applies to me, after all.
Are there times that you have to be someone other than yourself? In order to grow, you have to do something other than what you are, but how about if that leads to someone that you don't recognize?
As I watch you there, I cannot help but wonder if I have done nothing wrong. You do not say anything and you would not ever blame me, but those insistent eyes tell me differently. Quite clearly.
Without knowing, because you do not talk, I can read your body very well.
Or maybe it's out of my own guilt?
The things we take for granted come into full light, surfacing from between the shadows we ourselves make. Under the innocent red light, they came out so much more than I'd wanted them to.
I become scared.
You have gotten thinner, as if the weight added to my own worries. Have you taken care of yourself? You can't even recognize it, but I can.
The pictures lie and tell the truth simultaneously.
You can smile at certain times, but you take pictures of those times and not others. So, what happens to the rest of the seconds of the day? Are they wrought with unhappiness and crying?
Are they lies if not given any proof of their existence?
Months ago, I could separate my concepts so clearly. All I had to do was turn and the picture became wider. But now, all the film seems to melt together. The colors are runny and unrecognizable, just like an on-going painting: It only shows what I want it to.
It only reflects my feelings, not of what the scene has towards me.
I slam my hands at the sides of the sink. The steel makes such a loud clatter, I can almost taste its metallic surface.
I can't seem to develop them correctly these days.
I do not even want to open the small plastic cylindrical cases. One wrong move and it'll all be over. I can't even remember the things I preciously wanted to put on film from before.
The sweat of my back clings onto my white tanktop.
Like the sound of heavy rain on stone, everything floods out without it being exposed under the red light.
I can't dip my hands into the solution and water.
It'll feel like blood.
Without knowing, I am ruining everything before making anything definite.
"Why?! This is my life! I've been doing this all my life!" I scream as I grip on the sides of the sink in frustration.
The half-finished photos don't make sense in my head anymore. I'm developing with a throbbing headache, but one thing is so definitely clear: You're staring straight into me.
You're always looking at me.
With nothing to say.
Damn your silence time and again!
Everyone knows who I am to you already. But I don't even know myself anymore. Is this the person you are 'in love' with?
I do not know if it's the attraction, the images you've painted into my mind, or those moments of vulnerability that make me come back to you…
"I just want to see what you do with your 'life'."
He finally speaks. He's only been here for two minutes but it feels like a whole week under humidity.
I turn with hot tears on my face. He leans on the wall, looking at me intently.
"Why are you making fun of me?"
Why are you invading this space that is only mine? Even you…yes, even you shouldn't be here.
Rape everything, but not my soul…
I won't give you that.
Even pride lost to you. And I can't stand it anymore.
Why are you so obsessed with having 'everything' when you are losing the thing you are looking for?
And I'm losing myself.
His phone's orange light keeps on blinking at me, silently screaming to be answered.
"I want to understand this semblance of normalcy."
It is then that I understand the underlying meaning of those frigid words. I am the only grip of reality.
I turn around. I cannot look at him as I ask, "Isn't there anything you really want in this world?"
I want him to answer this question, but when he does out of necessity and not reality, my eyes stare at his back with my wrath. But when he closes the door, I finally fall to my knees.
The clattering of the rain continues to sting my ears and I can't hear myself sob.
I feel my limply lips say, "Asami…"
Tsuzuku...
10/4/2007 6:47:38 AM