Title: Understanding
Author: Tristana
Fandom: Yami no Matsuei
Pairing: None at the moment. Tatsumi/Oriya if you squint – a lot.
Summary: Post-series. Tsuzuki accepted his feelings toward Hisoka and Muraki is still dead to the world. But no one think about them. And here they are. Tatsumi goes to Oriya, seeking the understanding that only the swordsman can provide. Understanding of an equally wounded heart and soul.
Oriya's thoughts.
Tatsumi's thoughts.
Author's note: I wrote it while chatting with PimpMyInsanity on youtube and we were saying that it was weird that no one ever writes about Tatsumi and Oriya (other than stories involving Tatsumi making Oriya suffer because of Muraki hurting Tsuzuki.) I wanted to highlight their 'likeness', the both of them having feelings for men that either didn't know about it (Tsuzuki) or knew about it and decided to use said feelings to their advantages (Muraki), leaving both Tatsumi and Oriya suffering.
Note: I modified some errors I spotted while checking it at random. Sorry for the bad grammar, my brain is absolutely dead. I also apologize for Tatsumi's OOCness.
Understanding
I don't know anymore. Heart aching with unseen wounds, bleeding unknown blood. But I'm fine, it's okay. I said heart, but perhaps should I say core? No sentimental pain, but a dull psychological one that worms its way in my skull.
I understand him, and yet, why don't I want to let him go? I left him so that he might spread his wings. At least, that was the reason I gave myself. But I was lying. In fact, I left him so that I could fly myself again. His tears were arrows pinning me to the ground. His amethyst eyes twisted in sorrow, I couldn't bear them anymore.
I left him so that we would both be free but I was entrapping myself in regrets, still wondering, even decades later: "What if?"
What if I had stayed with him? Would I have turned out to be insane? Or would his wounds have healed? Would I have told him that I loved him? Deeply, unquestioningly? But I was not thinking about only myself at that time. Or was I? I always thought that I did everything I did so that he'll be safe, even as I watched him from a distance.
For the first time in my unlife, I wanted to cry. But I never did, steeling myself. I have control as a shadow master. I can't allow myself to be weak. Everyone… always seeing me as the strong, collected one. What if I didn't want it anymore? Somehow, I felt that there was someone else who might understand me. I saw him only once, but his determination to protect his friend despite their obvious different values impressed me.
He must have felt bad when he learned that the one cared for so much, the one he nearly killed himself protecting, died at the Black Flames of Touda. Did he cry? He didn't seem the type to cry… As strong as the blade he carries. Sharp. Deadly.
But I somehow wanted some comfort. The one I had loved now is trying to be happy. And yet, why do I feel so heartbroken?
My feet carried me to the Kokakurou. I never thought that I would be coming here. And apparently, neither did he. The sharp blade had been torn to pieces… Shattered like glass on the stone of a desperate love. He let me in and I sat with him in the garden, where he fought with Hisoka. None of us spoke aloud. Red leaves have been falling silently, blood tears of the Earth. And he didn't move, nor did I.
"How are you?" I asked finally. The words harsh and scorching my tongue as I spoke them. Dry for lack of use.
"How would you be should you lose the one you loved for years without even be acknowledged?" Came the bitter reply. His gaze was fixated on the black mirror of the pool. Longish hair framing his face. Such a beautiful man. Surely, he would have deserved better. Of course, I'm not the type to accept the fact that he sells women for money. Still, we are burdened by the same pain. I might be luckier, because I never had to commit any crime to protect Tsuzuki. But the man next to me had. And despite his own way of living, he still is someone with a strong sense of honour.
This is the second time that he comes and sees me at my own home. I won't call him a comforting presence. Still, that this man comes and doesn't even try to make me suffer to lure Muraki is beyond me. I can't understand him… and yet, I still feel a sentiment of… likeness between the two of us. My hands are bloodied by the one of my girls whom I 'gave' to Muraki, for him to lure his violet eyed beauty. I never saw this man… I don't want to. He is not responsible for me hurting like hell. Because Muraki wouldn't have to chase him down, should this man like him. No, I know that this Tsuzuki would be better off without Kazutaka. But Kazutaka had – seemingly – gotten killed. Even if he were alive, he wouldn't come and see me again.
I don't know which is most painful: to see him once in a while and worry sick because I'm afraid? To have him sometimes next to me… Close enough to touch him and yet knowing that he doesn't care, only thinking about a shinigami? Or to believe he is dead and never to return? All in all I've always experienced this feeling of loss.
I glanced at the bespectacled man sitting beside me. He have this sad look again. My answer must have rekindled painful memories. I didn't want to be sympathetic with him. But still, I understood…
"Guess we both are in the same predicament, right?" I didn't want to try and comfort him. I didn't even want to be comforted. So why is my heart on the verge of being torn apart.
"No. Because I choose my fate. I was the one walking away…" His voice was sour and I finished his sentence for him, even though I'm pretty sure he would never have said so himself.
"While I was condemned to stay behind, never close enough to tear him from the path of insanity and blood he choose. Yes, our situations are different. Still, even though you say you chose, you feel like it was forced upon you by fate, isn't it?" I can't really say that I'm such a psychologist. But for someone who chose to let his loved one go, he surely looked down. As he planted his ice cold stare in mine, I shuddered unvoluntarily, perfectly aware of the fact that he could crush me. A small smiled graced his features and I knew I was right. So I continued: "See? But even though he is near enough for you to touch him, you know you'll never reach for him. I experienced it… Sometimes, I feel downright idiotic for never having said out loud what I wanted to say. And now, it's too late." I gritted my teeth together, willing the lump in my throat away.
His voice came, soft and measured. Almost… comforting. "Well then, we are both idiots who fell in love for the wrong person."
I looked at him, flabbergasted. What? He's kidding right? My reaction must have been quite violent because he elaborated: "We loved men who were or totally unaware of that fact or using it on purpose. In the process, we convinced ourselves we did what we did, whatever it was, for them, disregarding our inner feelings. Idiots, because we loved unconditionally and did whatever we could. And the wrong person because I guess that we just weren't meant to be loved in return."
"You are pragmatic aren't you? How comes you surrender to fate so easily?" True, I might have questioned Muraki's action. But I never questioned mine.
"Just like you did." His smile turned sad and I felt my heart clenching. My pain reflected his own and it was a strange feeling. Without even saying it, we understood each other. Though I won't be able to tell whether it's a good thing or not. I knew what he meant through this sibylline answer.
"Somehow, I think that my fate is easier to accept than yours…" I couldn't believe that I said what I said at that moment but it was the truth. I still had the possibility to die – be it at my own hands or not. Though I'd rather die while fighting against another swordsman than through seppuku. Suicide is not exactly a good idea and Kazutaka would never ever care, so why should I insist?
"We both feel pain in our own way. Like I said, I choose my whole line of action. I could have make abstraction of his sorrow and stay by his side…"
"You choose what you thought was best. And you know that if such events should repeat themselves, you'd act the same way." I laid my hand on the sheath of my katana, the feeling of polished wood strangely soothing and cooling.
I watched the swordman turn around to watch me. Dark eyes, unforgiving and sharp. And so pained it made my heart ache even more. It was not that I felt sympathetic or anything… was it?
Still, I got up and paid him my respects before departing. We both have many things to think about, I guess. And so I left. Comforted by his understanding. It was the first time as a shinigami that someone understood… and felt almost the same way. I left but I knew I will come back to see him again.
I know he will come back. And my heart is soothed by such a thought… Slightly tingling. I feel it beating again. Recognition had shone and lights were shunned. I wonder how wwould be the weather next time… Perhaps would snow have laid her white cloak and the ground and carded frosty fingers in the pond…
I looked at the stars and smiled. An angel of Death had come and gave my soul back to me.
I looked at the sakura and smiled. Who would have thought that an Angel of Death would have his soul given back by a human?
END
Note: See, I didn't even write yaoi this time… happy Anyway, I might write a TatsumiXOriya but it'll be a real fic. I won't be able to write a PwP. Mostly because those two are far too complex for me to play like htat with them. (Well, I played with many many many characters before, but these two are too… well, they tend to think a lot before acting. They are able to contain their impulsions – except when undergoing a certain amount of stress. And I want them to develop the understanding part. I think they don't really believe in love anymore, and even though I love Watari, I can picture Oriya and Tatsumi trying to love again through this bond that wounded souls created.
Thanks for reading everyone!
