Another phanfic (something I never thought I would write)
Special thanks to tumblr user limerenceforphan for inspiring me with the prompt ideas they posted. There are some really good prompt ideas that could be used for whatever pairing, so check their blog out for sure!
Heads up: this soulmate AU is the one where one gets a sudden, unknown bruise because their soulmate got it.
Hope it's a good story :)
(This story has been edited)
Yūgen: Japanese word meaning "a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe...and the sad beauty of human suffering"
"Dan, it's a lovely day today, isn't it?"
"Dan, just looking at you warms me up!"
"Dan, I'm sorry I'm too clumsy."
"Dan, I'm really glad I met you."
"Dan, I love you!"
Groggily, he wakes up, his eyes blinking several times before adjusting fully to the small light source emanating from the half-closed window. He sits up from his tattered bed and there's a slight stinging on his left shoulder. He rolls up his sleeve and peers down to see a prominent bruise, recent and ripe judging by its opaque purple.
He scrutinizes the bruise and then rolls his eyes. That's already been the fifth bruise he's gotten this week. Just what has his soulmate gotten into to get so hurt?
But the mention of his soulmate is enough to make him hesitate, his body visibly shaken for a few seconds. He then relaxes and a bitter expression dawns upon him.
How long has it been since he could even remember the one person that mattered in his life?
Name? Forgotten. Appearance? Gone. Any recollection? Except for those five flimsy sentences that has constantly been repeated in his dreams, nothing. It's as if someone had stolen all of those precious memories of his soulmate whom he had met and departed with about two decades ago.
Now, at age 26, Daniel James Howell, only known by his last name and nothing more, a professional hit man with such merciless, cold brown eyes that would send shivers down anyone's spine, gets ready for another day of work. Ignoring the minor pain on his shoulder, he purposely stubs his toe, not only in hopes of spiting his soulmate, but also to indirectly tell him that he's still alive and well.
"I want you to kill him." His client says as he passes a recently taken picture of a man with black hair, most likely dyed given that his eyebrows are ginger, and striking bluish green eyes. Dan studies the photo, trying to determine its true color, and later puts it in his pocket, deciding to take a closer look after his client leaves.
"He's been a pain in my ass ever since he showed his face here in London. Just came out of nowhere, he did." His client starts to rant, though Dan never asked for an explanation. "Always smiling, always being so optimistic. He's taking over my company and I'm sick of it."
Dan yawns, clearly not interested, and as he shifts his body into a more comfortable position on the sofa, he dully looks at the client fro the corner of his eye and asks, "So why don't you fire him? Seems like the easiest way to get rid of someone."
The client's fists clench. "I tried to but everyone ended up writing up a petition to bring the bastard back. It was even one of the trending hashtags on twitter, #BringLesterBack." He says in a mocking tone. The man's whining makes Dan's eye twitch a bit, and while it's taking all his willpower not to grab for the small gun planted in his back pocket and shoot him to get some peace and quiet, there's something about the name of the victim that makes Dan feel uncomfortably confused.
The client is still talking. "Everyone's following him now, even though I'm the goddamn executive of the workplace. Every proposal he makes is approved and my opinion doesn't even matter anymore during those meetings. Everyone's just so in love with fucking Lester that no one has the heart to say no to him. Sure, what he initiates always brings back positive feedback, but he's taking all of my spotlight and I don't want him working in the same place as me anymore."
Dan rolls his eyes at the simple-minded stupidity of his client. He begins to twirl a pen lying on the table between them. "Then drive him out. I don't see why you should go through extreme measures and have him killed." Dan states logically, not paying much attention to his own words.
"Don't you think I've already tried that? I've thrown things at him, pushed him into walls, even kicked him in the stomach a few times on purpose, but he's not fucking budging." The client responds angrily. "Howell, for a hit man, you're talking an awful lot to get out of this. Do you not want to take the job? Have you actually started being considerate of people or did you just convert into a pussy that can't kill another person anymore?"
Dan stops twirling the pen to look at the man in front of him, fully discontented with his words. If there was one thing he hated the most when it came to meeting with clients, it was their incessant need to rile him up with childish scorns and unbelievably stupid excuses.
Immediately, the client hesitates and he starts trembling slightly as he gets more sucked into those cold brown eyes. Just like a curse, it feels as though he's getting chained up and being left there in the icy atmosphere, unable to escape his impending freezing death.
All the rumors are true. With just a single glance of Dan's emotionless eyes, no one can escape.
"What gave you that assumption?" Dan asks with a smile, but his tone is icy, laced with sharpness that could pierce through someone's skull.
The client takes a few steps back but Dan is already up in his seat, quickly following his footsteps. The man's back hits the rough wall and Dan plants his foot right next to him with a powerful bang. He puts his face close to the client's, still smiling, but his eyes are become darker, almost becoming dead-like.
The man trembles, his eyes darting from place to place to do everything his power not to look into Dan's merciless eyes, and he begins to stutter. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear! I just— I assumed that you didn't want to because —"
"Because what?" Dan asks innocently, but his smile grows cruel, the tips curling slightly.
"I'm sorry I ever thought of doubting you, Howell. Please have mercy on me." The client quickly breaks down, tears falling to his cheeks out of immense fear and terror. Dan clicks his tongue, despising how weak and powerless this executive looks at the moment. Who knew this man was such an ugly crier? He lets go of the client, removing his foot that was right next to him, and casually walks back to his sofa, laying down as if nothing happened.
The client also goes back to his seat, if not with great hesitance. He's still visibly shaking, unable to meet Dan's dead-like eyes.
The professional hitman holds up two fingers. "Two things: I want half the money right now in effective."
The man nods his head quickly, hastily opening the suitcase he had brought and showing it to him. Dan inspects it from the table, and then takes one of the chunks. He begins to count the bills one by one before putting it in the suitcase, the atmosphere becoming tenser by the second. The man sitting across him sweats profoundly, mentally checking if he had brought the right amount of money. When Dan finishes and pulls the suitcase towards him with a satisfied expression, the client sighs in relief.
"And the second thing?" The man then asks as the tension slowly begins to dissipate.
"His schedule."
The man tilts his head in confusion. "His schedule…?"
Dan clicks his tongue one more time, making the client jump in fear. "I'm talking about his schedule." He explains impatiently, taking out the picture of the victim, Lester, and tapping the face several times.
A lightbulb goes off on top of the clients head and his hands clumsily take out a paper and pen that he had with him in his pocket. He scribbles words and numbers before handing it formally to Dan with both hands. Dan takes it, rolling his eyes subtly, and reviews the list of times and events.
11:00 am, Break Time.
"Does he stay in the office during his break time?" Dan inquires, pointing to that specific portion of the schedule and the client shakes his head.
"He always says that there's someone he's searching for and doesn't want to miss a second of it. He's always out, to where even I'm not sure, but he always comes back thirty minutes later, just when his break runs out."
"So, he has just enough time to go back to the office even in such a big city like this?" Dan mutters to himself, finding this man in the photo more curious than ever. He then directs his attention to the executive. "Do you know who he's supposedly searching for?"
The client shakes his head in regret. "He just says that he's looking for his soulmate; that this person's in London."
Dan's eye twitches at the mention of the word and the client suddenly points at his exposed arm. "Speaking of, your soulmate must be clumsy."
"Why do you say that? Dan says stiffly, unsettled with the sudden change of mood.
The client stares at the arm and Dan looks down to see that there's another bruise, making it the sixth this week. It's fresh, easily concluded because Dan's arm had nothing before and during this meeting.
"Who would get a bruise in such an awkward place? Unless this person were moving stuff and messed up, you wouldn't get hurt in that area."
"I don't think my soulmate is any of your business now, is it?" Dan replies darkly, but he's confused as to why he's suddenly so angry. He doesn't want to talk about his soulmate, especially not with someone as weak and annoying as his client.
The executive immediately shuts his mouth. "I'm sorry." A silence passes. Then, "Is there anything you need to know?"
"Where is it you work at again? I wasn't paying attention because you were a bit too boring." Dan says, slightly riling the client.
As predicted, the man's fists clenched. "I'm not boring."
"Oh, really?" Dan's eyebrow rises mockingly. "I assumed that your boring manner was one of the reasons why this Lester person was taking over the company."
"You—!"
Their eyes meet and the words the client had in mind fades away. "Yes?" Dan asks in a low voice, expectedly waiting for an answer.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Right, um, the company is not far from here, actually. Just a couple of blocks north." The client quickly answers and recognition sparks in Dan's mind.
"Ah, that place. Good. It'll make my job easier." Dan acknowledges.
"Is there anything else you need?" The man asks once more, silently begging to let this meeting come to an end.
Dan glances at the man for a split second before standing up and stretching his back. The sudden action makes the client jump anxiously. Dan's arms go to the back and he hears a satisfying crack. He makes sure that the crack hurts enough to send it to his soulmate. Dan likes to think of it as payback for getting another bruise.
"I think we're done with the meeting. I'm come to you once the job is finished. If you don't have the latter half of the money," Dan begins as he quickly reaches into his back pocket and aims the small gun right onto the client's head, this action executed in practically only half a second, "you and I will have a long, nice talk together."
The man, with his hands up in surrender, nods instantly, sweating profoundly. "I'll be ready. Don't you worry."
"And if you try to escape," Dan says as he pulls the gun away and begins twirling it with his index finger, "I'll make sure to find you." He pulls the client close to him and wraps an arm around his shoulders. His grip is strong, so strong that the man gasps out in pain, and while Dan smiles, the man sees the warning in his almost black, cold, merciless eyes. Escaping is the one mistake he should never make.
The client does his best to swallow the lump that has been forming in his throat and nods once. "Right. Of course, Howell. Never." He answers slowly, but his voice cracks with every word.
Dan, satisfied with the reaction, lets go of the terrified man and goes back to the sofa. He motions the man to leave his office. The client, with a formal bow, quickly runs out, the pressure and adrenaline in his body that had been accumulating throughout the meeting releasing all at once. When Dan knows that the man is gone from the building, he finally takes out the photo that he had put back in his pocket.
He studies in detail his victim, the man called Lester. He traces the figure, and when he gets to the face, he can't help but focus on the man's eyes. Are they blue? Or are they green? Why does it feel like he's getting sucked into them?
More importantly, why does he seem so familiar?
At exactly 11, a man with dyed black hair comes out of a fancy glass building. The wind blows quietly but strongly, enough to ruffle his already messy hair. His coat, long enough to cover half of his legs, flows to direction of the wind and for a moment, the man is forced to follow it. He laughs curiously, the sound filling up the silent area, and stops himself from getting pulled further.
"Now, now wind, I know you're dying to help me find him but we've already been to that direction. How about we try the other side this time?" The man says to no one, but judging by the way he addressed the wind, he must have truly been speaking with it, like a complete madman.
The wind keeps blowing to the same direction and while the man called Lester smiles tiredly, he begins going to the other direction. It looks like the wind is protesting because at the same moment, it picks up its strength. it's almost as if it's begging the man to not go to the alleyway that's behind the building he works at.
But the man called Lester looks desperate, so desperate that he completely ignores the wind and forcefully walks against the gust.
"There has to be something to lead me to him. There has to be. I've already tried the other areas. This has the be the way." The man mutters under his breath, but it's loud enough for a silent man who's wearing all black to hear. This silent man, whose face is covered with a well-placed hat, lifts his head up a bit to let his dark brown eyes to shine through. Without barely making any sound from his footsteps and letting the strong wind mask the rest of the noise he might make, he follows the man called Lester to the darkened alleyway at the side of the glass building.
"Should I cover more land?" The man says to himself in a low whisper, as if he doesn't want anyone to hear. "Ah, but I know that he's nearby. He has to be somewhere around here."
Dan tilts his head, raising an eyebrow in process. This man must be looking for his soulmate, just like his client had informed. And judging by his words, he had specifically chosen this glass building as his workplace because he had heard that his soulmate lived nearby.
Exactly who is this soulmate of this man called Lester that he would endure constant bullying from his higher ups just to get to them?
But no matter. Knowing about his victims is something Dan scorns. Quick and painless is his motto (unless his clients specifically ask for torture) and he would rather not find out about his victims' life stories when they'll die either way.
As the two walk into the alleyway, Dan waits patiently for his chance to strike. The man called Lester begins to rummage around the place, carefully scrutinizing anything that comes into his sight and paces around, slightly irritating the hit man. He talks to people outside of the alleyway, asking them questions that are out of Dan's reach, and this keeps going for various minutes. The people he talks to always end up running away in fear, making the man called Lester reach out in regret and confusing Dan even more.
Eventually, the clock is close to hitting 11:30 and the man called Lester gives up by lowering his head in defeat. He begins to walk back to the alleyway, and that's when Dan steps out of the shadows, purposely stepping on a leaf to alert the man of his presence. Why not make this one assassination fun? And along the way, maybe he can finally distinguish whether the man's eyes are blue or green.
"Who are you?" The man asks after distinguishing the mysterious man in the shadows, his voice slightly trembling.
The hat keeps the man from seeing Dan's identity. "No one special. Although I can't say the same for you." He replies smoothly.
"What do you want from me?" The man questions and Dan notes how his is trying to keep his voice down to at least keep his fear in check.
What a futile attempt. "Nothing much, really." He shrugs mockingly.
"Can I leave? I have to go back to work now and I would rather not be—" The man stops his sentence at the sudden, unpredictable presence of a gun pointed right at him. His hands fly up in surrender immediately.
Dan smiles. He loves to bask in his victims' reactions whenever he has his gun out. It is heavenly.
"I— I didn't do anything wrong. Wh—" The man tries to reason but Dan lifts a finger to his mouth.
"It's nothing personal, I promise. This is just my job, mate. No hard feelings, ok?" Dan responds coolly and the wind that had been waiting in the sidelines abruptly charge at Dan, knocking off the hat that had been leaving his face in the shadows all this time. The hat falls to the ground ungracefully and Dan clicks his tongue in annoyance.
"Whatever, it doesn't matter." He mutters to himself and lifts his head so that the light from behind them shines and the man called Lester can finally see the eyes of the man who is pointing a gun to his heart.
"Goodbye, then." Dan says, his eyes meeting those bluish-green eyes of the man called Lester.
In a heap of the moment, Dan pulls the trigger with no thought, like always. But for the man called Lester, it's a different story.
He knows from the moment he sees those warm, brown eyes. He knows in that moment that he has finally found the man who has purposefully been giving him extremely painful toe stubs and deep cuts on the arms. He knows he has finally found his soulmate that had left him two decades ago.
"Dan—" But the bullet is already inside, a scarily accurate shot.
"Phil, it may be lovely but that's only because we're here together."
Dan collapses to the ground the same time the man called Lester falls to the ground back first. The assassin holds his chest in immense pain, his hands ripping and gripping at his coat to try and figure out why it hurts so much.
"Phil, if anything, you are the one who warms me up."
The hit man's eyes dart crazily around the area, searching for clues, answers. Was there another assassin that was targeting Dan? But no matter where he looks, it's the two of them.
"Phil, don't apologize for being clumsy because these scars tell me that you're still here with me."
Time stops. Dan's eyes slowly move to the body of the man called Lester, barely breathing, barely living. There's a ringing in his head as he recalls what the man had called him as he shot the bullet through his chest.
"Phil, I'm really glad you came into my life."
The name Dan. The same name that no one else in this neighborhood, probably the entirety of London, didn't know. The same name that only one person would know.
Trying his best to ignore the burning pain coming from his chest, Dan crawls painstakingly towards the man whom he had just shot. When he does, his cold brown eyes instantaneously melt in front of the bluish-green eyes of the man called Lester.
"Dan." The man whispers and a small, almost infinitesimal, smile arises. Dan looks at him, awe-struck. His chest keeps aching, the pain increasing every second, and it feels like he has another breathing hole that shouldn't be there. His mind is in complete turmoil. How does this man called Lester know his name?
"I finally found you."
"Phil, I love you, too."
It clicks. Dan completely breaks down. "Oh god, Phil, no. Oh god no. This can't be happening. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you. I didn't know."
Phil's blinking slows down significantly, as does the rising of his chest, unable to answer to any of Dan's babbling, and said person, though the pain in his heart is agonizing to the point where he can't move a muscle, quickly moves his hands to Phil's chest in hopes of stopping the bleeding.
"Hospital, I need a hospital. I need to call—"
A weak hand lands on Dan's cheek and the man with the now melted brown eyes looks at Phil, who is using all his strength to smile.
"Not… your fault."
"Phil, oh god, stop moving. You need to preserve your strength. I just need someone to—"
"Hurts…"
"I know, Phil, I know. I can feel it, too." Dan answers, taking one of his bloodied hands to his chest, also gripping it because it hurts so much. "It hurts. It really hurts. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
"Stop… apologizing…"
But Dan can't. He's practically sobbing at this point, head full of regrets. "If I hadn't forgotten, if I had dug deeper into my memories, if I had known from the moment I saw you who you were, I never would have— Oh god, what have I done? It hurts so much, Phil. Oh god, it hurts so much. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Dan…"
"Phil, please stop talking. Please. I'll save you. I promise I will. Just let me do something about this! I need to— I just have to—"
"Still love you…"
Those two words make the hitman stop dead in his tracks. Dan's breath hitches and the hand that was on Phil's chest stop pushing. He looks wide-eyed at the man lying on the ground whose bluish-green eyes — not blue, not green, but both — slowly begin to fade.
"Why?" Dan whispers, his face twisting more and more in pain. "Phil, wait, no, you can't—"
"Love you…"
"Stop."
"Love…"
"Phil, stop. Please."
"L—"
"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, STOP! Please, Phil, please, for the love of god, stop…"
"Dan… I love you."
And those bluish-green eyes close and don't open again, never letting the world see them anymore. Dan falls apart, his body crashing to the ground next to his now dead soulmate, whom he had wished and wished to remember time and time again.
There it was. His wish has been granted. But for what cost was it even for?
He feels like his heart has stopped; there is no feeling anymore. His eyes, still wide open, stare at the grey, dull sky as stormy clouds fill the screen. His head falls to the side, his brown, dead eyes now slowly beginning to close. They unconsciously land on the face he had always wanted to see. The face has grown extremely white in such little time.
"Phil, it's not a lovely day anymore now, is it?"
His fingers start to trace the jawline. It's sharp but there's softness to it that can only be present so gracefully in the man called Lester.
"Phil, you look so cold. No matter how much I look at you, it doesn't warm me up anymore."
His fingers touch his lips. It's gotten so cold that the red disappears, only to be replaced by blue. In pain, he moves to the nose. So defined, yet all to waste in the end.
"Phil, I agree. You are too clumsy. But I think we can both agree that I'm the idiot of the pair. I'm the biggest idiot anyone has ever seen."
His cheekbones are so high up. It's a clear sign that Phil has smiled a lot his whole life, unlike Dan. Even without any facial expression, he can still see the crinkling lines at the sides of Phil's mouth. He has smiled so much. He must have been so happy with his life. What did Dan just do?
"Phil, why were you glad to have met me? I just took away your life without even giving you chance to run away. Why did you choose me as a soulmate? Why did it have to be me?"
Dan rips his fingers away from Phil's face, unable to even look at those closed eyelids. He instead covers his own eyes with his hands, still stained with Phil's blood.
"Why me? Why did you have to be paired up with me? There was nothing good coming out of it. I fucking killed you, goddamn it. I killed my fucking soulmate with my own hands. Oh god, what the fuck did I do to you?" He screams to the stormy skies and on cue, it begins to rain.
"You could've had such a happy life without ever meeting me. Why did you devote such painstaking hours to find a scumbag like me? A lot of people loved you, Phil. A lot of people would have been a better choice than me. Why did you not go to them? Why did you try to find me?" Dan cries, his tears mixing with the pouring storm. Some red enters the collage as well.
"I'm so sorry, Phil. I'm so sorry. Why did I do this? Why do I kill? Why am I doing this? I'm sorry, Phil, I'm so sorry."
And for the next hour, Dan merely lays there, the rain pouring, the droplets not bothering to mask its hate towards the man with brown eyes as it hits him harder than any bullet would. Dan lays there, wondering why, just why, circumstances led to this. He wonders what he could've done better, what choices he could've taken to have a better future, what he could've done to remember his one and only soulmate.
And when he finally realizes that no matter how much he wishes Phil to come back, he won't be able to, the man with brown eyes finally reaches toward Phil's closed eyes and lightly traces them. He closes his own eyes, visually picturing those beautiful bluish-green eyes that had instantly melted his own.
"Phil, I love you, too."
And with a bang, Dan lays unmoving, desperately holding onto the man called Phil Lester, who, in meager hopes of finding his true soulmate, eventually met with a horrible fate.
How was it? Good, bad, meh? Tell me in the reviews!
If you have any questions, please ask and I'll try to get back to you through PM.
The ending was too hard to write. So hard that it took me a couple days just to ponder over it before finally giving up and just deciding to wing it. This is the product of my winging it so if it didn't please you, I apologize. It was extremely hard to write something that would provoke feeling but also make somewhat logical sense. Again, I apologize if you didn't like it as much. I did try my hardest.
Again, thank you limerenceforphan for inspiring me to write this and I hope you enjoyed this story and lived up to your expectation!
If any of you have a prompt request, you can PM me or ask me in my tumblr blog (username is flyanddontlookback) and I'll try to get back to you asap :)
Thank you for reading and hopefully, I'll write another phanfic!
Peace,
FlyAndDontLookBack