Ok..this was an idea I had while talking to my friend about suicide. It kinda reminded me of Tsuzuki and his past so I elaborated with my own crap. –laughs- I don't own them, I just make them do ungodly things to each other that even Matsushita-sensei wouldn't have thought of.
Warnings: Um..none really, a bit of blood, more psychological than anything else. M/M relationship but nothing even remotely dirty. I haven't gotten them to that point just yet.
Had anyone been looking to the west that night, amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy streets, they might have seen the sunset as they never had before, the orange and yellow sphere shining brightly with its top third cast in a dark shade of green, an occurance that the ancients used to say brought on an entire month of darkness. They might have also seen a young man in a rather rumpled looking business suit, his jacket slung over one arm and his violet eyes moving quickly between the booths lining the street.
He saw jewelry of all kinds, food stalls with their fresh fish and vegetables set out for the hungry consumer to peruse over and various arrays of clothing before his gaze finally settled upon the booth at the end of the street, its owner a happy young woman, her smile as bright as the man's eyes. He smiled at her politely and pointed to a small ornate box, its contents a surefire treat for a friend. He paid her quickly and took the bag she offered, the box gingerly placed inside, snuggled in sheets of tissue paper.
He gave his thanks and set back onto his original heading, thinking about his small apartment, with its comfortable bathtub and cozy setting. A bath and a hot cup of tea was just what he wanted after a long day at work, he and his partner working as hard as ever on their simple cases, nothing like they had been used to in previous years. It made him happy to think about the wonderful people he worked with and the friends he had made during his time at the office, unsure of how he'd ever go on without them in his life.
His walk was a short one as he finally took the side stairwell to his lodgings, simple living quarters designed for those that worked for the Ministry, the colours neutral and the space limited. He spruced it up with living plants and bright furnishings, carpets coloured like wine and pillows like spearmint. He smiled as he opened the door, slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat on the small hook by the light switch, flicking it on as well before looking around to make sure everything was still in good order. It was of course, noone ever having dared to bother his place in all the years he had resided there.
He set his purchase on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil and finding his favourite mug, an orange one with green writing that his partner had given him, the colours reminding him of the boy as he found the tea leaves and placed them down beside it. Once putting enough of the dried substance into his cup he went to his bedroom, padding lightly over the thick carpeting and undressing as he moved, first his tie, then his shirt, the buttons undoing easily as he tugged the garment off and draped it across the foot of his bed. His pants and underwear came next, the material slipping off of his shapely legs like silk, despite their cotton-polyester weave. His socks were last, being placed with the rest of the outfit so he could put it in the laundry pile later on, giving himself a long, languid stretch in the nude as his kettle started to whistle.
The water steamed as he poured it into the heavy mug, the tea already giving off its soothing, herbal scent as he breathed it in deeply, wrapping both hands around the porcelain to enjoy the gentle heat. He lifted it to his lips and took a tentative sip, hissing as the liquid burned his lips and tongue, deciding to hold it in his hand as he walked to the bathroom to get the bath going, setting the cup down on the vanity and bending over to put the plug in. It was an old fashioned clawfoot bathtub, a luxury he couldn't afford at the time but that he bought anyways, its comfort level impressive to the young man.
The water flowed quickly, filling the room with steam as he set the cold water to run as well, lifting a bottle of bubble bath to his nose and sniffing it, pleased enough with the smell to pour in a large amount, the water frothing immediately and making the room smell faintly of raspberries. Once it got to a suitable level he draped a towel across the floor beside it and stepped in, careful not to slip, the water already burning at his skin as he eased himself in deeper, the water level rising just a bit before he finally sat down, a deep sigh leaving his body as the water began its work on sore, tired muscles.
He reached over the edge and snatched his mug, holding it just above the water to drink heavily from it, then putting it back to dip his head under and soak thoroughly, his hair slicked back against his head as he rested it back against the high lip of the tub. He spread his legs a little bit and got as comfortable as he possibly could, letting his eyes drift shut, his body relaxing and his mind wandering in the dangerous beginnings of sleep. He had fallen asleep in the bath before but never worried about it, the tub's unique shape stopping him from ever sliding under the surface or even spilling any out if he twitched dreamily.
The dream came quickly, his eyes opening in it to show him a tree lined boulevard, the leaves on the maples and birches turning a golden colour as the fall slowly moved in on them, the air whisping past him with the barest hint of a chill. He smiled and started to walk along the right-hand sidewalk, his hands buried deep in his pants pockets and his head held high to catch the bits of sunlight that filtered through down to him. As he passed each tree, he saw a boy, the first one tending a carnation bush, the blows plump and fresh and just recently bloomed. He was smiling as well, his cheeks rosy from the air and his hands encased in gardener's gloves.
The man walked on and saw the next one, a blond where the other boy was a redhead, this time weeding around the base of a flowering boxwood. The bush was healthy and full, the flowers a barely there pink shade, the weeds he was pulling were long and gangly, a dark green to the bush's light green leaves. He waved to the child and walked once more, this time a small boy in rather dated clothes was snipping at a rosebush, clipping off the dead leaves and peeling back bruised petals from the already swollen flowers, their dark colour much the same as the man's carpets back home. He eyed the boy warily as his shears got ever closer to a beautiful flower blooming at the very top of the bush, its petals dripping with water, fairly breathing with life.
He stepped into the yard and moved one hand out to steady the child's own, gripping his wrist rather harshly as he stared at the shears, their edges already wet from clipping the leaves and the blades soon to be drenched in the blood of an innocent rose. He pulled the boy's hand away and smiled down at him, forcefully taking the gardening implement and tucking it into his jacket pocket, wagging a finger at him before turning and starting to walk back up the street. He was about to cross the street and walk back on the other side when he heard one of the boy's crying out, turning on his heels and staring back behind himself at the small brunette, his hands around the rose's stem as if he were trying to throttle the life out of it.
He choked out loud as the small hands finally clasped around the thin stem and squeezed, his own hands flying up to his throat to claw at the hands he could feel there, the squeezes and grip mimicking those of the boy, his eyes wide and breath coming in ragged gasps. His feet refused to carry him any closer and the grip had tightened to the point where his eyesight had started to become dim, his knees wobbling as they strained to hold his slight weight. He managed to croak out a single word before falling to his knees and doubling over, his eyes blind and his throat on fire, the intensity of the dream absolutely real to his sleeping mind. "Sacrifice…."