A/N: This is the second fic I posted. I deleted the other one. Flames accepted (huhu...), but friendly reviews are much more welcome.
This is KanHaru or HaruKan, depending on your view. No smut. OOCness. And I assumed some things.
Now on to the fic.
Really, he hadn't paid it much heed for years.
Kantarou had grown up with Youko by his side and knew her appearance hadn't changed yet. He didn't mind—he accepted that fact, that he was going to die even before a wrinkle even showed on her pretty face. He didn't really feel bad about that. After all, humans die. It was just natural.
But that evening, he suddenly felt as if he was running out of time, that the clock of his life was slowly ticking away to death.
Looking up at the rooftop, Kantarou saw Haruka at his usual spot, doing the usual. Haruka was not clearly visible; his whole frame was like a shadow against the round moon.
I think I might be out of time, Kantarou thought suddenly.
He was about to lunge for the ladder when he abruptly stopped himself. Out of time? Just what the hell did it mean?
It means, Ichinomiya, that at the rate you're going, you'll die even before Haruka could get a hint.
"Eh?" he whispered. So he now had that tiny mind voice?
But the meaning of the words was impossible to ignore.
Swallowing, he looked back up at Haruka. His heart thudded in a different way, and his palms began to get clammy. He realized he was gasping.
Oh god. Many years from now, he would be ones and dust, and Haruka would never know. Haruka would never remember. And Haruka would meet someone else and—
Kantarou shook his head, trying vainly to clear the thought of doom from his mind.
But, quite suddenly, he had an urge to climb up to the rooftop and tell Haruka. Just tell him.
Shouldn't you move now?
Kantarou hesitated, his hand on one ladder rung.
You're running out of time.
"But I can't rush things," he whispered, very softly.
Look at you! You're getting old! Why don't you move?
There was an uneasy feeling in his gut now, a certain hollowness. His conscience, or whatever the mind-voice was called, was right. He should move. Or Haruka would never, ever know, even if Kantarou came back from the grave and haunted him.
ICHINOMIYA!
He flinched, as if the mind-voice were actually directed at his eardrums. His cheeks flushed, and he looked around, feeling that someone was watching him from somewhere.
"Kantarou?"
The silver-haired man swallowed again and forced himself to glance up at Haruka. The Tengu was looking at him, shadows still obscuring his features. He seemed, at that moment, someone who would never die.
And Kantarou, frightening as the concept was, would perish someday.
"Haruka," he whispered.
Go, Ichinomiya, don't waste time.
He clutched the rung and began to climb up. For all the talk of time, it seemed like an eternity before he reached the rooftop. He ignored the relentless thudding of his nervous heart.
Don't rush, he told himself. You'll slip and fall off the roof—
But that's exactly why you should bloody move faster!
Kantarou sat himself beside Haruka.
What are you waiting for?
Kantarou said, "Haruka…?"
"Hmm?" Haruka was visible now the look on his face was blank, almost disinterested; he still gazed at the moon.
The words suddenly lodged in Kantarou's throat. He couldn't get them out; if he did, he was certain he would stutter, and all the things he wanted to say would be destroyed.
"Ah…Haruka…"
"Hmm?"
"Ah…how would you feel if I died?"
SHIT! That was so not what he wanted to say. He looked down at the shingles on the roof, not even daring a peek at Haruka's face.
The Tengu took his time pondering on the question.
Ichinomiya…
-Shut up, okay! Kantarou screamed silently. Can't you see he's taking his time?
Time. Ha. You don't have lots of it.
-Do you?
His conscience—if that was the right term—fell silent. Kantarou gazed back up at Haruka.
Haruka finally looked at him. "How would I feel?"
"Yeah."
"I guess I'll be…sad."
"And?" Kantarou prodded.
"Sad," the Tengu repeated, softly and sadly.
No words were needed; the tone of Haruka's voice said it all.
Kantarou smiled weakly. At least, he wasn't alone in lamenting his mortality. With that, he snuggled close to Haruka. Haruka stiffened, but did not move away. Kantarou took it as a sign of encouragement.
Ichinomiya…
"I don't want to rush things," Kantarou said, more to Haruka than to the mind-voice. "Because rushing things makes me feel more mortal, as if I'm racing against time. And I want…I want you to remember, I want us to remember every single moment, not just a quick picture in our minds. I want…" He sighed. Gods, it would take him an awfully long time to say what he really wanted to—
Haruka relaxed. Having no courage to say any further words, Kantarou decided to scoot closer.
"Would you let me go my own pace?" he asked.
Haruka, after a long time, smiled a rare smile. "Take your time, then," he replied.
His arm tightened against Kantarou. The ethnologist smiled, and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling as if he had all the time in the world.
A/N: Now how did you like it? You take a peek, better tell me what you think. :)