Title:
Solitude
Day/Theme:
Sept.
14, 2009 // live by disillusion glow
Series:
Katekyo
Hitman Reborn
Character/Pairing:
Chrome,
hints of Mukuro, Chikusa, Ken
A/N:
This is placed, at the begining, from when Chrome first came to the
future and then set some time after. It's a little short, I think
I'll add more to the ending next time. As well, this is the first of
my one-shot collection here. I'll update it sporadically.
Updated:
I have expanded on the whole one-shot into a larger one with the same
name as this shot.
Summary:
It isn't the
future that scares her, it's the future without
them.
...
...
She chokes on the air, the dust and negligence laced heavily in each breath. Glancing around, she can't imagine what happened here, the cracks and holes on the walls from years of abandonment. Her steps echo in the silent building, asking her questions for her.
Where was Ken? Chikusa?
(Where was Mukuro-sama's voice, a tune that always sang in the back of her mind?)
Her fingers traced the well-worn walls, their history illegible to her. Sometimes she hits a small dent that she remembers Ken making, hits a small toy that Chikusa left behind. Sometimes she catches their trails, the pieces they left behind for her to read, but then she'll loose the scent again.
This is a frozen world, trapped in a time she doesn't know of, and it feels wrong. Not in the least because they are not here.
(She tries to remember ever being this worried about someone before, her heart racing and her breath ragged.)
-x-
Chrome wakes up, feeling her missing lungs gasp and twist as she tries to keep them undercontrol. It's an awkward feeling, her own mind in control of her life for once. Her pulse runs to her tempo, a dance that slows and quickens with each turn her mind takes.
(Is he dead? Are they still alive? Can she go back?)
She misses them, misses the growls in the middle of the night and the sharp tools that dug into her feet with each step. There used to be a howling wind that would spin a new tune for her lullaby each night, a melody that was punctuated by snores and teasing remarks. Sometimes Ken was cruel to her, sometimes Chikusa was too silent, but she was used to their methods, their decisions running her time forward.
Running further and further to new destinations, to new plans, to new decisions.
It's all too much power for her to have to do this alone.
Shifting in her bed, Chrome imagines the bumbling steps in the dark, the shifting of light and shadow as the candles flickered. There is a soft wheeze in a corner and a groan for someon to shut up, it's only two in the morning. Mukuro's voice is plotting something she can't understand in the far reaches of her mind.
And if she feels a calloused hand brush hers or a warm breath pulling her covers up, it's ok.
She doesn't mind living with her illusions.
...
....
...
