A/N: I just had a thought of making something like this and I just couldn't stop myself. So please enjoy, reviews are appreciated! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Allusions of the Past in that Fleeting Sense of Longing
Let him live. Bring him back.
Sparkling red lights were accumulating in the sky, the reds sang the final cadence of their salute to their red King. Some were in tears, some holding their feelings back, masking the pain with alluding themselves with fine memories of their dear departed. The sky was very beautiful, the sound of the requiem fading into the background as the red crest on their chest unite with its vastness was indescribable.
Mikoto, you were the best King we could've asked for.
Mikoto. Like snowflakes fluttering in the wind, and like raindrops falling from the sky, the utterance of his name became a nostalgic echo of the forgotten.
Snow was falling from the heavens, covering everything with it's white linen like form. A certain snowflake slowly cascaded into where the red king lay. He was lying on the ground, his eyes closed and arms spread, flecked with snow. The snow flake landed gently on his nose and stayed their for awhile, convalescing the red king's skin with its thorn-like coldness. He opened his eyes slowly, with a kind of coolness he had, his vision was blurry at first and like the lens of a camera, it cleared and then blurred again. He breathed deeply and waited for his vision to adjust. The sun was just too bright for his eyes.
A gush of wind came out of his lips which formed like mist in the air. He was perplexed at first, and then he realized he was in the exact location where he dealt the final blow to the colorless king. He sat down and curiously scrutinized his hands. Suspicious of his surroundings, he looked up at the sky, thinking how the heat of the sun seemed to be so calm amidst the fleeting rage in his heart. Why was everything so dull? He stood up and dusted the snow off of him. Confused, he trudged down the path but stopped midway when he saw something sparkle on the ground. He walked towards it and picked the thing up. It was a pair of glasses.
Munakata.
At the utterance of the name, he had the urge to find him, for him to be able to accept the predicament he was in. Or if this was real or not. If he was really alive or not. He sighed. Mikoto decided to go to Bar Homra. When he was already in front of the bar, he hesitated to get inside at first. He was afraid of what's about to happen if he meets his clan members. Would they be surprised? Would they be happy? He didn't know, he could only speculate and imagine the look on their faces when they see him. He sighed, and rummage through his pocket, trying to find his cigarette box. When he finally felt it, he took it out and was possessed by a feeling he couldn't explain. The cigarette box he was holding was Blue Sparks, the one Reishi owns. Mikoto felt awkward and just pushed the box into his pocket for the moment. His gaze shifted towards the entrance and with a step, he clasped the latch and entered. The creaking sound of the door halted the activities of the clan members. They were looking at the entrance, waiting for their mysterious visitor to come into view. When Mikoto entered and closed the door behind his back, he heard Misaki call out his name, delight in his tone. He looked up at them and saw their eyes beaming with happiness as they welcomed him back.
"Everyone!"
He heard a familiar voice that seemed to tickle him with nostalgia. It was Totsuka. He was alive just like him. He was confused. When Totsuka saw his face contort he asked him what was wrong. He looked away, he thought that the scene he was seeing with his own two eyes was odd, weird and improbable. He was confused, and the only thing to make the cloud of confusion go away was to see the blue king, Munakata Reishi.
Mikoto saw one of the blues on the streets. He stopped on his track and tried coming up to him. For some reason, his back view looked a lot like Reishi's or was it his imagination? He sighed and came up to the blue to ask him about the whereabouts of his king. The blue shrugged and told him off and said that the red king had no business with his king.
At a corner of an alley, someone with blue hair and rimless glasses with a book in hand turned and crossed the street. Mikoto still bickering with the blue didn't see him. The guy closed his book and looked up at the flickering streetlights. The wind blew a little too strongly tugging his hair, making them dance like tentacles in the air. He clipped a lock of hair behind his ear. He couldn't hear the true loudness of the siren of the cars, for him it was something he will never know.
In exchange I will take one of your senses and you will never be able to remember him.
He smiled a wary smile.
Just bring him back. I don't care.
Where is he?
Three words signifying how much he wanted to meet him again. His longing as been heightened by the fact that everything seemed to be drowned by loneliness and emptiness since Reishi'd been gone. They were rivals. They didn't agree on most things but then, for some reason just the thought of the existence of the other calmed their souls. They were kindred spirits, and like all kindred spirits, there was a little pleasantry at the thought of each other's existence. Reishi was Mikoto's counter part and no one can ever be his replacement. He would ponder upon the meetings when they both end up being in each others company. That was odd, certainly, but there was something as magical as serendipity in those instances. The tinkling sound of the glass and the creaking sound of the high chairs came into his mind. He closed his eyes, darkness became the insides of a bar, with it's dim tallow lights that seemed to scintillate now and then. He found himself sitting beside the blue king, looking at him as he leaned on the counter of the bar, sipping his margarita. He heard him talk, the kind which was distinctively his. He had this urge of wanting to hear it again. His mind played the words that struck him the most, the words that momentarily shook his entire being.
I'm doing this as a friend Suoh.
There was something sad about how Reishi said it. He was glad that the blue king wanted to talk him out of his destruction, but he couldn't bring himself to cause him further trouble. He wanted to end it all by himself.
I want to save you.
Mikoto opened his eyes, he felt his throat throb. He felt parched for some reason. Why did Reishi affected him so much? It was probably because Munakata Reishi was more than just the blue king, he was a friend, a precious friend. He was just like a rainbow after a storm, like spring after winter. Like a bath after a humid and hot day. He reached out his hand to something invisible and clenched his hand into a fist, crushing the air.
I know no matter what I say, you won't listen.
Those words played on his mind, he wanted to hear his voice once again, to hear him complain about his behavior and most especially hear how he would utter his name in a sarcastic but gentle tone. It wasn't true that he would never listen to him, rather, the truth is, he would always find himself captured by Reishi's words to the point of no return. He was captured by the way he wittily stringed them together, accompanied by his entrancing voice that sometimes made him feel a little weak inside. He took a hold of the fleeting memories of Munakata's words, those words that both shake and pamper him.
Reishi had another life in front of him. He had lost all his memories and the capacity of hearing. He was no longer the captain of scepter4 but a mere library fellow who only knew nothing but books and the monotony of it. He wore a pair of hearing devices to help him. He was always busy arranging books and putting them back into their respective shelves. The shelves were like giants looming over him. He liked looking at them, this jungle of books has always calmed him. He never thought of doing something outside this realm and that made him oblivious to everything that has nothing to do with it.
The subtle sound of the pencil as it grazed the surface of the sketchbook never caught his attention. He was oblivous to the girl who was desperately trying to capture his beauty into the sheet of paper she was desperately holding onto. She had been a regular at the library, studying art books and looking at encyclopedias searching for amazing arts of the olden times until she saw Reishi. She was captured by the elegance of his demeanor and the kind of languor about the man with a kind melodrama she never found in anyone. Reishi's unbridled expressions was for her a masterpiece. The way how everything just seemed to be perfect around him. She liked it, the way Reishi payed attention to things and the way his eyes would sparkle.
This would forever remain as broken memories of the past. And with my existence extinguished, I shall fade away in silence.
Even though Reishi had almost lost everything, and had successfully fled from the red king, coincidentally, events brought him closer to his rival. Closer than he could ever imagine. Fate is a bitter thing. Most of the time, it reunites us with the thing we want to get away from the most. And just like that, fate had brought them back together. Mikoto bumped on a girl who was running so fast, with books on her chest looking so flushed, like in a state of adrenaline rush. Mikoto's whole being was in a kind of trance, he was surprised to be bathing with images of Reishi he never thought he'd seen. He saw them flicker in the air, coming to him like an apparition. His parted lips mumbled Reishi's name. It was as if the world slowed down for a bit at the moment sketches of Reishi cascaded to the ground, the wind being the catalyst of its flow. It looked like confetti thrown into the wind, or like the wind blowing to tug on the cherry blossom trees making it's beautiful flowers dissipate, making it looked like pink glows in the air. He tried to regain his composure by helping the girl. Sketches of Reishi scattered all over, his different expressions, his countenance still as bright as he remembered them. He felt a pang in his heart. Must it be longing or must it be the hate that had been boiling in his heart? Mikoto wanted answers, he wanted them but he found another feeling welling up inside his chest. How long has it been since the last time he saw him? He seemed to hear him whisper into his ear, the words that made Mikoto's escape gentler, he found himself smelling the fragrance of his perfume and how it merged with the scent of his sweat the last moments they were together. He remembered how much he wanted to stay with him like that, their bodies close compensating for the distance of their hearts. He found himself thinking that maybe at that moment, their hearts grew a bit closer. He remembered how his heart was beating inside his chest when Reishi held him. He wanted to feel his warmth again. He asked the girl about the man on her sketchbook, the girl was taken aback at the Mikoto's cool demeanor. But what shook her the most was that even though Mikoto was looking as calm as ever, his voice stuttered and was shaking when he uttered Reishi name.
Your life will never be the same again. In exchange for his life, you will be forever bound to solitude. You will lose your hearing, you will never remember him and the things related to him. But if there's a chance, although impossible still, of your memories coming back to you, you will disappear from this world and compensate for his soul.
Mikoto rushed to where Reishi was, the purpose of his search seemed to lost its meaning and replaced by something he himself couldn't pin down. Days, months have passed, but his bustling thoughts didn't subside. The more time dragged on, the more he longed to see him and to ask him about the reason why he was still alive, the reason why everything went back to how it was back then when Totsuka was still there and Homra didn't have to lay siege on the school on the island. When he was finally inside the library, he was greeted by towering shelves. Mikoto couldn't help but smirk, there is no denying that this environment suited Reishi, more than his love for puzzles ever could. When he saw him sitting on the desk, his back in front of Mikoto, 'I have found you', he wanted to say, but those words escaped him.
His mouth was agape, he couldn't utter a word, he was spectacularly captivated by how everthing just suited Reishi. The panels of glass reflected his reflection, and the sun setting on the horizon with it's rays penetrating through the slips of the window pane illuminated Reishi's countenance. For the first time ever in his life, he was bewildered at how he was drawn towards the man clad in blue polo shirt paired with black trousers with a book in his hand. The usual sideburns apparent and his rimless glasses scintillating because of the illumination of the beams of light coming from the afternoon sun. The way he turned his head over to his direction tinged with elegance that he couldn't help but get conscious of how uncouth he was. The piles of books on the sides of the room didn't matter, nor the creaking sound of the dangling lamp light inside the room. Reishi stared at him through his glasses and Mikoto just stood there, his heart and mind in somersaults for what felt like a thousand of years of ache welling up inside him and the allusions of the past in that fleeting sense of longing.
