This is a fic that came to me out of the blue... have you ever noticed that everybody seems to love Omi? There's almost always someone who can make some sort of sweet, emotional connection to him.
Well, here are my reasons! Starting with our youngest bishonein, going to the oldest (aw, c'mon... 27's not *that* old!!... it depends on your point of view, yes?)
Yes, it's very short... I should have compiled them all into one, but as an artist *ducks white-board erasors and TI-82s from 6th graders* I feel it is more... potent... dynamic *throttles thesaurus*... if you read them one character at a time.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head.
Warning: A little language, here and there. Not necessarily boy-boy love as we think of shonein-ai and yaoi, but more... love on a person-to-person scale; friendship, maybe. Take this all with a grain of salt... and maybe a crystal of sugar.
Author: Kasey
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.
Status: Complete, self-edited.
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*
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"In the Eye of the Beholder"
-Naoe Nagi-
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I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Or, can everyone else see in him what I see?
I've seen him at the flower shop. The way he gently handles flowers, holding them by the stems so as not to bruise the delicate petals... I wish someone had handled me like that. The harsh beatings I've been served, the cruel words, the uncaring pokes and prods as they tested me for my powers... they could all disappear, if he were to touch me.
I've seen him on missions. His face as he reaches his objective, the expression as his target dies, and part of him dies with them... I wish there was still enough of me to die with my victims, like that. If he were to ever complete his mission to kill me, would part of him die with me, too? Could I take part of him with me? I would treasure that piece of him through whatever pains Hell inflicted on me. I would even be happy for the small redemption, but only if it were he who killed me.
I've seen him in school. He offers a hand to someone who has fallen, or carries on a conversation, his blue eyes sparkling as he warms to the subject... I wish I could talk to people like that. He would talk to me, and I could talk back. We would share secrets and we would laugh, and we would be friends... if we weren't enemies.
In his killing, he is saving. He is recovering and nurturing lost souls.
And that's why I love him.
He lets me dream again.
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Well, here are my reasons! Starting with our youngest bishonein, going to the oldest (aw, c'mon... 27's not *that* old!!... it depends on your point of view, yes?)
Yes, it's very short... I should have compiled them all into one, but as an artist *ducks white-board erasors and TI-82s from 6th graders* I feel it is more... potent... dynamic *throttles thesaurus*... if you read them one character at a time.
---
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head.
Warning: A little language, here and there. Not necessarily boy-boy love as we think of shonein-ai and yaoi, but more... love on a person-to-person scale; friendship, maybe. Take this all with a grain of salt... and maybe a crystal of sugar.
Author: Kasey
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.
Status: Complete, self-edited.
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*
---
"In the Eye of the Beholder"
-Naoe Nagi-
---
I'm not sure why everyone loves him. Maybe it's just in the eye of the beholder. Or, can everyone else see in him what I see?
I've seen him at the flower shop. The way he gently handles flowers, holding them by the stems so as not to bruise the delicate petals... I wish someone had handled me like that. The harsh beatings I've been served, the cruel words, the uncaring pokes and prods as they tested me for my powers... they could all disappear, if he were to touch me.
I've seen him on missions. His face as he reaches his objective, the expression as his target dies, and part of him dies with them... I wish there was still enough of me to die with my victims, like that. If he were to ever complete his mission to kill me, would part of him die with me, too? Could I take part of him with me? I would treasure that piece of him through whatever pains Hell inflicted on me. I would even be happy for the small redemption, but only if it were he who killed me.
I've seen him in school. He offers a hand to someone who has fallen, or carries on a conversation, his blue eyes sparkling as he warms to the subject... I wish I could talk to people like that. He would talk to me, and I could talk back. We would share secrets and we would laugh, and we would be friends... if we weren't enemies.
In his killing, he is saving. He is recovering and nurturing lost souls.
And that's why I love him.
He lets me dream again.
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