Living
Part Two of the "Beautiful Dangerous" Story Arc
By Ryuuen
Warnings: Same as last time.
A/N: Back by (somewhat) popular demand, this is the second part of the BD story arc. Ara, ara, I know I'm working on this before Contradiction, which I should be working on, but you reviewers can now see the power you have over me. You reviewed, and I wrote! ^_^ This part of the arc is short and bittersweet. I liked writing it. Hope you enjoy reading it! Okay, please read and review, C&Cs welcome, arigato~!
NOTE: The song here is "Instant Karma", again by WeiB, and again the trans is taken from Tetris no Miko's site. Originally, it was gonna be "It's Too Late".. but I changed my mind. ^^;;; This one fits better.
LIVING
-----------
~"A shadow emerges from the rainy road. That shadow is me, free from my curse of love."~
"I told you, the next time we met, we'd be enemies." That voice, echoing in his mind, and he recoiled, trying vainly to escape that voice, that place, his mouth opening, a wordless scream.
"Omi!" A voice shouted at him. A pain in his shoulder. He sat up quickly, and quickly fell back again, the sharp pain in his side a reminder of the injuries he had obtained only a week and a half earlier, which still weren't completely healed. He yelped as a hand touched his shoulder, wincing as though bitten. "Omi, wake up, Omi. It's a nightmare."
Blue eyes opened quickly, looking around almost wildly before realizing where he was, looking up and seeing his best friend sitting there, a hand on his shoulder and worry in his eyes. He felt the hand wiping away his tears before he even realized he was crying, and shortly thereafter finally allowed himself to succumb to the tears that he had been holding in since that battle almost two weeks prior. He felt himself suddenly surrounded by warmth, and vaguely realized that Ken was holding him. Grateful, he sobbed into the older man's shoulder, letting go of all of the sadness he had been keeping inside for so long. As he cried, he wept also for those he had killed in his past, for himself, his innocence and the childhood that had been lost to him long ago. For his friends, for their sorrowful pasts and cruel, uncertain futures. For those who had died for him, for them. For Persia, Birman, Manx, Botan, and those others at Kritiker who had sacrificed so much for them. Even for Takatori Reiji, the father he never had, and Masafumi and Hirofumi as well, the brothers he never knew.
When, at last, the last of the tears were spent, and Ken's whispered reassuring words had ceased, Omi raised his eyes, red-rimmed from crying, to meet Ken's.
"Ken-kun.. anou.. arigato.." He muttered, flushing a light pink from embarressment. Ken smiled at this, just slightly.
"You needed that." Ken replied matter-of-factly. "You can't hold everything inside forever, Omi. Sooner or later you have to let go of those emotions that you hold inside, or you'll burn out. Believe me, I learned the hard way."
Omi had trouble thinking of the hyperactive soccer player ever "burning out", but instead of saying as much, he simply nodded.
"Arigato.." Smiling slightly, Omi stood slowly, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ken did the same.
"Anyway.." Now it was Ken's turn to blush, "We need you in the shop.. I'm gonna go help them out.."
As Ken exited the room, Omi couldn't help but wonder why he had left so quickly.
~"Even to people who beg for my embrace, I say not even one word of encouragement."~
Aya watched Omi enter the shop through the corner of his eyes, seeing the boy walk weakly to the counter and leaning against it, looking as though it had taken quite a lot of effort to get there. He very nearly smiled when he saw two junior high school girls run over to fawn over their wounded heartthrob.
"It's good that he's recovering, ne?" A voice asked softly from behind his shoulder. He turned, recognizing Ken's voice before he even saw him.
"S.. Sou ka." Aya replied quickly, wondering in the back of his mind what Ken thought of him now, whether he would ever try and finish the job he almost completed then. He knew it was foolish, Ken was a... a friend, not someone to be vaguely feared, like a shadow in a child's bedroom. And this... this fear, this vague, formless paranoia, had no nightlight with which to put him at rest with. There was no real remedy for betrayal except time. He was relieved to see Ken's soft smile. The younger WeiB seemed to have forgotten about what had happened in the series of events codenamed "Verbrechen~Strafe", which meant "Crime~Punishment" in German, and he was glad for it. He didn't want to explain anything, and he didn't want anyone to explain to him.
"Sugoi." Ken said softly. "You two are both so stubborn, clinging to life like that. I doubt I would be able to do such. Ne, Aya.."
"Yamero." Aya said softly, his voice cutting through Ken's. "Don't be sorry. You defended your life, and probably saved others. I don't want you to be sorry for doing what you had to do."
Ken sighed, then gave a little smile to Aya, a soft laugh coming from the brunette.
"Aya.." He said, smiling at him. "You've become so different from when we first met, you know? You were so cold then..."
Aya allowed a slight smile. "I didn't know any of you then."
~"My sins softly disappear. Unbelievably, they disappear. My hate disappears. Unbelievably, it disappears."~
Yohji frowned into the begonias he was trying to repot, hearing that too-familiar voice ring out through the shop behind him.
"Konnichi wa, minna!" Omi called when he made it down the stairs again after taking a short lunch break, a smile gracing his face; he was wearing a turtleneck, though, a testament to what had happened. "How is everyone?"
Yohji didn't grace it with a reply, not wanting to speak to the boy, fearful of how his young teammate would react. He froze when he heard slow, careful footsteps heading in his direction, turned to see those blue eyes that had haunted him so much...
Yohji-kun... Yohji-kun... watashi... watashi no tomodachi...
"O... Omi.." He stuttered by way of greeting, frozen solid by those eyes. The look in the boy's eyes seemed to soften, and he seemed almost like himself again. Almost. But there was a stiffness in his words that betrayed his uncertainty. "Daijobu desu ka?"
"Genki desu," he said, trying to look everywhere but into Omi's eyes. He did look when he felt a hand rest lightly on his arm, near the shoulder. He saw those darkish-blue pools, full of remorse and pain, focused entirely on him.
"Yohji-kun.." Omi whispered, his voice a little rough, eyes bright like he might cry. "It wasn't your fault.. I don't blame you."
The boy quirked a little smile, utterly forced but reassuring to Yohji all the same. The older blonde nodded, and Omi gave a hasty little "ja ne" and limped over to where Ken was standing. Yohji watched the two confer in quiet whispers, knowing it was about him, but not caring.
He doesn't hate me. Omi really doesn't hate me...
He felt as though he could fly.
~"As I pass by, a murmer is heard. That is me, scornfully laughing at my past. I try to say there is no pain left in my soul, but strangely enough, I can't fool anyone."~
Silent tears made their way down Omi's cheeks, making tiny splish noises as they fell, landing on the soft petals of the rose he held in both hands, uncaring of the thorns that bit into his hand, the blood that dripped from between his palms. He couldn't see anything but that face, those eyes, haunting him...
"Omi.. Omi, you know the rules.. you turned against WeiB.." The harsh fiber threads bit into his skin, cutting deep, cutting off circulation, cutting off air. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even feel his hands anymore... he was dying, and no one would save him...
"Omi!" Suddenly the world came into focus. Violet-ice eyes filled with concern, a hand on his shoulder; Aya had been shaking him, had freed him from the day-mare. Gently, Aya's thin hands worked Omi's hands apart, taking the bloody red rose from him with deft ease and placing it on the counter. He saw Ken flip the shop's sign to "closed". Yohji handed Aya the first-aid kit, which the redhead immediately put to use on the young blonde's bleeding palms. He flinched slightly as the peroxide-like solution Aya put on his hands stung in his wounds, but didn't pull away. Vaguely he remembered his science teacher telling him that in the middle ages, people could die just from being stung by a rose's thorn. They were beautiful flowers. Beautiful, yes, and dangerous. So dangerous. Like him, really. Like any of them. Beautiful, dangerous... two sides to the same puzzle. Two different sides to each of them. Beautiful Dangerous.
As soon as Aya had finished bandaging the wounds, he found himself drawn into the strong embrace of his brunette friend, who whispered to him how much he had worried them, standing there, shaking like that, like a concerned mother. He felt so warm, just then, surrounded by his friends. He felt safe. It was as though even his subconscious had finally accepted that Yohji wouldn't hurt him anymore. He felt... he felt... good.
~"Surely, I will grow accustomed to punishment, just as I did with love. I will grow accustomed to hate, just as I did with a kiss."~
When Omi went back to his room that night, there was a note on the door. The handwriting was neat, proclaiming his name at the top, but it was unsigned, written on a stationary he had never seen before. Giving a little sigh at the ambiguity of it all, he read the note. It seemed to echo his earlier thoughts.
Omi,
Roses are beautiful, but their beauty is a double-edged sword. They are dangerous, as well. Beware the thorns of people, even those you love, who claim to love you.
Yours,
Beautiful Dangerous
With a little, strangled gasp, Omi felt tears forming in his eyes. Who would write such a thing? Why?
Doushite... doushite darou?
~"My sins softly disappear. Unbelievably, they disappear. My hate disappears. Unbelievably, it disappears."~
A tall figure, leaning against a tree only a short way away from the apartment building, smirked, and in the sunlight, his eyes seemed to glow red.
~"I will grow accustomed to hate, just as I did with a kiss."~
...To Be Continued...
In Part Three, "Death and the Rose"
Part Two of the "Beautiful Dangerous" Story Arc
By Ryuuen
Warnings: Same as last time.
A/N: Back by (somewhat) popular demand, this is the second part of the BD story arc. Ara, ara, I know I'm working on this before Contradiction, which I should be working on, but you reviewers can now see the power you have over me. You reviewed, and I wrote! ^_^ This part of the arc is short and bittersweet. I liked writing it. Hope you enjoy reading it! Okay, please read and review, C&Cs welcome, arigato~!
NOTE: The song here is "Instant Karma", again by WeiB, and again the trans is taken from Tetris no Miko's site. Originally, it was gonna be "It's Too Late".. but I changed my mind. ^^;;; This one fits better.
LIVING
-----------
~"A shadow emerges from the rainy road. That shadow is me, free from my curse of love."~
"I told you, the next time we met, we'd be enemies." That voice, echoing in his mind, and he recoiled, trying vainly to escape that voice, that place, his mouth opening, a wordless scream.
"Omi!" A voice shouted at him. A pain in his shoulder. He sat up quickly, and quickly fell back again, the sharp pain in his side a reminder of the injuries he had obtained only a week and a half earlier, which still weren't completely healed. He yelped as a hand touched his shoulder, wincing as though bitten. "Omi, wake up, Omi. It's a nightmare."
Blue eyes opened quickly, looking around almost wildly before realizing where he was, looking up and seeing his best friend sitting there, a hand on his shoulder and worry in his eyes. He felt the hand wiping away his tears before he even realized he was crying, and shortly thereafter finally allowed himself to succumb to the tears that he had been holding in since that battle almost two weeks prior. He felt himself suddenly surrounded by warmth, and vaguely realized that Ken was holding him. Grateful, he sobbed into the older man's shoulder, letting go of all of the sadness he had been keeping inside for so long. As he cried, he wept also for those he had killed in his past, for himself, his innocence and the childhood that had been lost to him long ago. For his friends, for their sorrowful pasts and cruel, uncertain futures. For those who had died for him, for them. For Persia, Birman, Manx, Botan, and those others at Kritiker who had sacrificed so much for them. Even for Takatori Reiji, the father he never had, and Masafumi and Hirofumi as well, the brothers he never knew.
When, at last, the last of the tears were spent, and Ken's whispered reassuring words had ceased, Omi raised his eyes, red-rimmed from crying, to meet Ken's.
"Ken-kun.. anou.. arigato.." He muttered, flushing a light pink from embarressment. Ken smiled at this, just slightly.
"You needed that." Ken replied matter-of-factly. "You can't hold everything inside forever, Omi. Sooner or later you have to let go of those emotions that you hold inside, or you'll burn out. Believe me, I learned the hard way."
Omi had trouble thinking of the hyperactive soccer player ever "burning out", but instead of saying as much, he simply nodded.
"Arigato.." Smiling slightly, Omi stood slowly, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ken did the same.
"Anyway.." Now it was Ken's turn to blush, "We need you in the shop.. I'm gonna go help them out.."
As Ken exited the room, Omi couldn't help but wonder why he had left so quickly.
~"Even to people who beg for my embrace, I say not even one word of encouragement."~
Aya watched Omi enter the shop through the corner of his eyes, seeing the boy walk weakly to the counter and leaning against it, looking as though it had taken quite a lot of effort to get there. He very nearly smiled when he saw two junior high school girls run over to fawn over their wounded heartthrob.
"It's good that he's recovering, ne?" A voice asked softly from behind his shoulder. He turned, recognizing Ken's voice before he even saw him.
"S.. Sou ka." Aya replied quickly, wondering in the back of his mind what Ken thought of him now, whether he would ever try and finish the job he almost completed then. He knew it was foolish, Ken was a... a friend, not someone to be vaguely feared, like a shadow in a child's bedroom. And this... this fear, this vague, formless paranoia, had no nightlight with which to put him at rest with. There was no real remedy for betrayal except time. He was relieved to see Ken's soft smile. The younger WeiB seemed to have forgotten about what had happened in the series of events codenamed "Verbrechen~Strafe", which meant "Crime~Punishment" in German, and he was glad for it. He didn't want to explain anything, and he didn't want anyone to explain to him.
"Sugoi." Ken said softly. "You two are both so stubborn, clinging to life like that. I doubt I would be able to do such. Ne, Aya.."
"Yamero." Aya said softly, his voice cutting through Ken's. "Don't be sorry. You defended your life, and probably saved others. I don't want you to be sorry for doing what you had to do."
Ken sighed, then gave a little smile to Aya, a soft laugh coming from the brunette.
"Aya.." He said, smiling at him. "You've become so different from when we first met, you know? You were so cold then..."
Aya allowed a slight smile. "I didn't know any of you then."
~"My sins softly disappear. Unbelievably, they disappear. My hate disappears. Unbelievably, it disappears."~
Yohji frowned into the begonias he was trying to repot, hearing that too-familiar voice ring out through the shop behind him.
"Konnichi wa, minna!" Omi called when he made it down the stairs again after taking a short lunch break, a smile gracing his face; he was wearing a turtleneck, though, a testament to what had happened. "How is everyone?"
Yohji didn't grace it with a reply, not wanting to speak to the boy, fearful of how his young teammate would react. He froze when he heard slow, careful footsteps heading in his direction, turned to see those blue eyes that had haunted him so much...
Yohji-kun... Yohji-kun... watashi... watashi no tomodachi...
"O... Omi.." He stuttered by way of greeting, frozen solid by those eyes. The look in the boy's eyes seemed to soften, and he seemed almost like himself again. Almost. But there was a stiffness in his words that betrayed his uncertainty. "Daijobu desu ka?"
"Genki desu," he said, trying to look everywhere but into Omi's eyes. He did look when he felt a hand rest lightly on his arm, near the shoulder. He saw those darkish-blue pools, full of remorse and pain, focused entirely on him.
"Yohji-kun.." Omi whispered, his voice a little rough, eyes bright like he might cry. "It wasn't your fault.. I don't blame you."
The boy quirked a little smile, utterly forced but reassuring to Yohji all the same. The older blonde nodded, and Omi gave a hasty little "ja ne" and limped over to where Ken was standing. Yohji watched the two confer in quiet whispers, knowing it was about him, but not caring.
He doesn't hate me. Omi really doesn't hate me...
He felt as though he could fly.
~"As I pass by, a murmer is heard. That is me, scornfully laughing at my past. I try to say there is no pain left in my soul, but strangely enough, I can't fool anyone."~
Silent tears made their way down Omi's cheeks, making tiny splish noises as they fell, landing on the soft petals of the rose he held in both hands, uncaring of the thorns that bit into his hand, the blood that dripped from between his palms. He couldn't see anything but that face, those eyes, haunting him...
"Omi.. Omi, you know the rules.. you turned against WeiB.." The harsh fiber threads bit into his skin, cutting deep, cutting off circulation, cutting off air. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even feel his hands anymore... he was dying, and no one would save him...
"Omi!" Suddenly the world came into focus. Violet-ice eyes filled with concern, a hand on his shoulder; Aya had been shaking him, had freed him from the day-mare. Gently, Aya's thin hands worked Omi's hands apart, taking the bloody red rose from him with deft ease and placing it on the counter. He saw Ken flip the shop's sign to "closed". Yohji handed Aya the first-aid kit, which the redhead immediately put to use on the young blonde's bleeding palms. He flinched slightly as the peroxide-like solution Aya put on his hands stung in his wounds, but didn't pull away. Vaguely he remembered his science teacher telling him that in the middle ages, people could die just from being stung by a rose's thorn. They were beautiful flowers. Beautiful, yes, and dangerous. So dangerous. Like him, really. Like any of them. Beautiful, dangerous... two sides to the same puzzle. Two different sides to each of them. Beautiful Dangerous.
As soon as Aya had finished bandaging the wounds, he found himself drawn into the strong embrace of his brunette friend, who whispered to him how much he had worried them, standing there, shaking like that, like a concerned mother. He felt so warm, just then, surrounded by his friends. He felt safe. It was as though even his subconscious had finally accepted that Yohji wouldn't hurt him anymore. He felt... he felt... good.
~"Surely, I will grow accustomed to punishment, just as I did with love. I will grow accustomed to hate, just as I did with a kiss."~
When Omi went back to his room that night, there was a note on the door. The handwriting was neat, proclaiming his name at the top, but it was unsigned, written on a stationary he had never seen before. Giving a little sigh at the ambiguity of it all, he read the note. It seemed to echo his earlier thoughts.
Omi,
Roses are beautiful, but their beauty is a double-edged sword. They are dangerous, as well. Beware the thorns of people, even those you love, who claim to love you.
Yours,
Beautiful Dangerous
With a little, strangled gasp, Omi felt tears forming in his eyes. Who would write such a thing? Why?
Doushite... doushite darou?
~"My sins softly disappear. Unbelievably, they disappear. My hate disappears. Unbelievably, it disappears."~
A tall figure, leaning against a tree only a short way away from the apartment building, smirked, and in the sunlight, his eyes seemed to glow red.
~"I will grow accustomed to hate, just as I did with a kiss."~
...To Be Continued...
In Part Three, "Death and the Rose"