Title: Headlines
Part: 1/1
Author: Trixie
Email: goldynangyl@y...
Archive: Sure, but please tell
me first! ^_^ I'd like to know where my ficcies are going. ^_~
Rating: PG-15
Pairings: Jyoushiro
Warnings: Okay, first off,
this piece is DARK. As in _DARK_. I cried while I wrote this. There is a lot of angst here, and I don't
want to give the plot away, but if you are weak of heart or don't feel good
today, please don't read this! ^_^;;
Disclaimer: I do not own
Digimon or any of its characters. I am
making no money off of this at all, it is only for pleasure purposes.
^_^
Author's Notes:
_Blah_ emphasized words
"Blah" dialogue
BLAH really loud words
//blah// thoughts
~~ scene change within the
same time period
~*~ scene change to another
time period
~blah~ Time reference
8:00
p.m.
//Jyou'll be back home any minute now. He'll be opening the door right now, and
come and put his suitcase down on the couch and throw his keys onto the kitchen
counter – just like he always does...//
8:30 p.m.
//He's probably run into some traffic. Besides it is a long drive from the hospital
to here…//
9:00 p.m.
//They probably kept him at the hospital – there are more
patients around this time of year…//
10:55 p.m.
//He's not coming home any time soon, is he?//
Izumi Koushiro let out a soft sigh as he tore his dull,
obsidian eyes away from the clock hanging on one of the dining room's
walls. He pushed back his chair and
stood up, pushing back in his chair with a slow, wistful manner. Walking over to Jyou's side of the small
table, Koushiro picked up the plate and wrapped it up in saran wrap.
Then he padded to the refrigerator and placed it on one
of the immaculate shelves, another sigh escaping his lips. Koushiro went back to his own untouched
plate and instead of covering this one as well, Koushiro went to the trashcan
and dumped the contents into the receptacle.
He wasn't hungry anyway.
Walking over the sink, Koushiro placed the plate onto the
counter and turned the shiny little knob of the faucet. He took the small foam pad and squeezed some
dishwashing soap onto the yellow sponge.
Picking the plate up, Koushiro washed it.
After finishing, Koushiro placed the clean plate onto the
drying rack and returned the little sponge back to its original place beside
the hot water knob. He picked up a
dishrag and wiped his hands dry.
Then the redhead opened a drawer and pulled out a pen and
a piece of stationary paper. He
scribbled something on it and then placed the note on the refrigerator door
with a little magnet that read 'Does not Compute.'
After making sure the note was in a place where it could
be seen, Koushiro made his way to the couch and sat down. He pulled a soft, cream-colored pillow to
himself and hugged it tightly.
He would not cry.
He and Jyou had gone over this many times.
//You'd think I'd be used to it by now…//
Koushiro curled up on the couch and held the pillow
closer to his chest and let out another troubled sigh as he thought of a
certain blue-haired person…
It was the same thing everyday.
In
the mornings, Koushiro would wake up to find Jyou's side of the bed empty and
cold, his tall love already off to work.
When Koushiro came home, he would find the house dark and vacant as
well. He would cook dinner alone,
making Jyou's favorite foods, and then set it all out. Then he would sit at the table and wait for
Jyou to come home.
Of
course, Jyou never did come home after his shift ended.
It
was a rare occurrence for Jyou to come home before 12:00 a.m.., much less come
home for dinner.
But
Koushiro made dinner every evening and waited for Jyou every day. He would sit there and stare the clock,
watching the seconds, the minutes, and the then the hours go by. The food would get cold – but he never
noticed. He always ended up throwing it
away.
Koushiro
understood that Jyou's job as a doctor meant that he was often on call – it was
just that Koushiro hadn't realized that his love would _never_ be home. Was a simple dinner with Jyou too much to
ask?
He
never said anything to Jyou – he didn't want to make his love feel guilty. Jyou had too much on his mind anyway. With all the patients and hours Jyou had to
work with, it was a wonder that the blue-haired man could still walk.
When
Jyou came home, he went straight for bed, brushing a brief kiss on Koushiro's
lips, and then fell asleep. Then, he
would wake up at five in the morning and leave for work again. Koushiro sometimes wondered who was actually
living in this small apartment – Jyou and him or just him.
But
Koushiro felt that Jyou didn't need to be bothered with his own
selfishness. Jyou worked hard to help
support them and pay off the student loans that he had. Koushiro helped too – it just was that his
job wasn't as demanding.
Sure,
he had to stay at work late into the night every so often when a virus had been
released or there was a computer malfunction, but he rarely had to that.
With
Jyou it was constant thing.
Sometimes
Koushiro wondered if he was holding Jyou back.
Maybe if Jyou wasn't with him, Jyou could have aspired to greater
heights. Plus, Jyou could never talk
about his work to Koushiro and vice versa.
It was like they were living together, but actually not.
They
rarely talked anymore – really talked.
They barely saw each other during the day. They only made love somewhere around once – twice if they were
lucky – a month, and most of the time it was quick and rough, nothing like how
Koushiro wanted it: slow and loving.
But
they're lives just didn't have room for the warm, passionate life that Koushiro
dreamed of. Real life didn't work that
way.
Sighing
once again, Koushiro closed his drooping eyes, and drifted off into an uneasy
sleep; all the while still clutching the pillow wishing it was some certain
bluenette.
~~
The front door opened slowly into the darkened apartment,
revealing a slow-moving shadowy figure.
A loud sigh escaped from the shadow as it took off its shoes and leaned
against the wall of the small hallway.
Home.
He was finally home.
Jyou, bone-tired and absolutely dead on his feet, wanted
nothing but to just fall into his bed and sleep for a whole year.
But of course, life didn't work that way.
He would be lucky if got 4 hours of sleep at all – four
_straight_ hours, not the sporadic naps throughout the day.
After he wearily took off his khaki trench coat and hung
it up, Jyou made his way to the kitchen, not needing the light to guide
him. He passed the couch and dropped
his suitcase beside it and threw his car keys onto the small table.
When he got to the homey kitchenette, Jyou turned on the
stove light as quietly as possible; he didn't want to turn on too many lights
and wake up Koushiro.
Koushiro…
A twinge of guilt twisted at Jyou's heart as he thought
of his small love.
Koushiro never complained about Jyou's working
schedule. The redhead only gave him
endless support and love, and Jyou felt that he was being unfair to Koushiro in
being at work all the time.
He hated being away from the redhead for such long
periods of time. He wanted to be able
to sit down with Koushiro and cuddle before a fire and just talk. He wanted to be there for Koushiro whenever
something happened or whenever something bothered the shorter man.
And the only time he did see Koushiro was when the
red-haired one was asleep. And although
Koushiro was breathtakingly beautiful in the moonlight, Jyou would have rather had
Koushiro awake.
Sometimes Jyou wondered if he was really the best person
for the redhead. He loved Koushiro with
all his heart, but he just had this feeling that he was holding the other man
from a better relationship – a better life.
Oh, Jyou had not missed the longing in those obsidian
eyes. He hadn't missed the way Koushiro
would quietly sigh every time Jyou was called for an emergency, thinking Jyou
wouldn't hear it. It made Jyou hurt
every time he had to leave Koushiro…
But he had too… he needed to bring in money to help pay
the rent, the bills, the loans, and the…
And the wedding ring he was planning on buying Koushiro.
Koushiro had no idea, and Jyou wanted to keep it a
secret. He had been planning this for
months after seeing _the_ perfect ring at the jeweler's. The kind, elderly man who owned the shop had
been kind enough to hold the ring until Jyou could pay for it.
And Jyou was happy in knowing that he almost had enough
to pay for the ring.
Just maybe another week or two, and then he could propose
to his one and only love.
He just hoped that Koushiro would accept – Jyou knew he
wasn't exactly being the best boyfriend a person could have. After he bought the ring, he wouldn't have
to work so hard, and then he could spend more time with the small redhead.
Jyou shook his head and looked went to the refrigerator
for something to eat. He usually
wouldn't have eaten anything, but Koushiro had been noticing how thin Jyou had
become lately, and had made Jyou promise that he would eat.
Frowning, Jyou noted that Koushiro had looked a bit sick
lately. He would have to talk to
Koushiro about that. If he had to take
care of himself, so did the redhead.
Before opening the door, Jyou's eye caught the small note
that Koushiro had put up. Pulling the
magnet off the refrigerator door, Jyou took the note and read it. An endearing smile graced his haggard
features as he read the messy scrawling that Koushiro had written:
Jyou,
Sorry I missed you tonight, dinner's in the
'fridge – top right shelf. It's noodle
salad and grilled chicken, I hope you like it.
Don't forget to wash your plate after you're done.
Love,
Kou
Jyou carefully placed the note on the counter and then opened
the refrigerator, eagerly looking for the plate of food. Once he found it – right where Koushiro had
said it would be – he took it out and ate it cold. Then he cleaned his plate and his fork and put them up to
dry. After that, he turned off the stove
light.
As he turned to head toward the bedroom, Jyou glanced at
the clock and mentally groaned.
2:24 a.m.
It looked like he wasn't going to be getting much sleep
tonight.
Sighing, Jyou headed toward the dark hallway, which lead
to the bedroom, loosening his tie as he went.
But before he stepped into the inky shadows, a soft sound reached his
ears, causing Jyou to turn around.
Jyou froze, listening intently for the source of the
barely audible – whimper? – that had made itself known. Waiting on bated breath, Jyou heard it once
again, and it came from somewhere in the living room.
Cautiously creeping along the side of the wall, Jyou made
his way to the light switch, picking up a vase along the way. If there was an intruder in his house, he
wanted to be somewhat armed.
When his long fingers finally brushed against the light
switch, Jyou took a deep breath and then flicked the switch up. He stood ready to throw the vase, but when
the bright light illuminated the small living room, Jyou didn't see any
attacker or robber – he saw Koushiro who was curled up on the couch, asleep.
Something in Jyou's heart broke as he slowly lowered the
vase and gazed at the figure on the fabric cushions.
Koushiro was curled up into a ball on his side; a pillow
clutched to him like it was his only friend.
Jyou's eyes trailed over the dark auburn eyelashes that kissed hallowed
cheeks, the sloping nose, and the pouty, coral lips that were slightly parted
in sleep.
"Oh, Kou…" Jyou whispered as he returned the vase to the
counter and made his way to the figure asleep on the couch.
Jyou sunk to his knees beside the sleeping redhead and
ran his fingers over the familiar face, caressing the smooth skin. Koushiro instinctively turned into Jyou's
hand, a contented sound escaping his lips.
Jyou smiled sadly at the beautiful angel before him and then bent
forward, placing a chaste kiss on his love's forehead.
"Come on, let's get you in bed," Jyou commented softly as
he lifted the redhead into his arms. He
frowned slightly at how light the smaller man seemed to be… he really needed to
talk to Koushiro about that.
"Why in the world were you out here, Kou? You're lucky you didn't catch a cold," Jyou
quietly chastised as he carried the red-haired youth to their bedroom. But as soon as he asked the question, his
mind supplied the answer.
//He was waiting for me.//
Another pang of guilt tugged at his heart, and Jyou held
his love against him all the tighter.
When he made it to the bed, he gently deposited his precious burden,
pulling the covers around the trembling body.
Jyou noted the pillow that Koushiro was still clutching
and pried it from Koushiro's hold.
Koushiro made a small whimper at the loss of contact, and Jyou could
feel the tears that stung his eyes.
He wasn't going to cry.
Quickly stripping down to his boxers and pulling on a
loose pair of sweatpants, Jyou slipped into the bed, promising himself that he
would take a shower when he woke up – right now he felt that Koushiro needed
him.
And he needed Koushiro too.
As he settled onto the cozy bed and underneath the
blankets, Jyou wrapped his arms around Koushiro. Unconsciously, Koushiro turned and buried himself against Jyou's
chest, and Jyou held Koushiro all the tighter against him. It wasn't everyday that he had the chance to
just hold Koushiro.
But then, sleep, who had waited for too long already,
claimed the blue-haired man and sent him off to a dreamless slumber.
~*~*~
~Two weeks later~
Koushiro hummed to himself as he finished lighting the
scented candles that he had placed strategically around the dining and living
rooms. He smiled slightly as he looked
at the clock.
7:53 p.m.
Jyou would be home anytime now.
Today was a very special day, and Koushiro knew Jyou would
never miss it for the world…
Their anniversary.
It was on this day four years ago that the two of them
had gotten together.
Four years that Koushiro cherished.
Koushiro dimmed the lights and allowed the candles to
create a sensual atmosphere for this special night. Making sure everything was in place, Koushiro went to the mirror
and looked at his appearance.
Before him stood a young man wearing a navy blue
button-up shirt that was tucked into dark, black slacks that molded over
shapely legs. The first few buttons of
the shirt were undone and revealed the pale, smooth skin of the man's
chest. Messy locks of fiery red were
left uncombed and fell sexily on top of the man's head, some strands falling
into the gleaming obsidian eyes.
Satisfied with what he saw, Koushiro grinned devilishly
and waited for his love to come home.
Koushiro had asked to come home early from work so that
he could prepare for this special evening.
He had gone by the store and had bought as many votive candles that he
could get his hands on. Then he had
rushed home and tore apart his wardrobe (which wasn't much) looking for
something suitable to wear. After he
picked out an outfit (one that Jyou had bought him a while back), Koushiro
started cooking dinner.
While the food cooked, Koushiro took a quick shower and
put on the clothes that he had picked out.
Then he dished out the food on glass plates and carefully arranged the
table with a single candle in the middle.
And all the rest was history.
Sitting contently against the back of his chair, Koushiro
absentmindedly smiled as he mused over what he had planned to do with Jyou
tonight…
And so he waited…
8:00 p.m.
//I can't wait…//
And waited.
9:00 p.m.
//Traffic must be bad today…//
And waited.
10:00 p.m.
//Must have been something at the hospital… he's probably
on his way right now…//
And waited.
11:36 p.m.
//He forgot…//
Two angry tears burned down Koushiro's cheeks as he
stared unseeingly at the clock on the wall.
This… this couldn't have happened…
Jyou couldn't have forgotten – could he?
Koushiro looked around at all the candles, the food, and
the then at himself.
He
felt numb and strangely empty.
He
was a fool.
Was
he really expecting that Jyou would come early today… even… even if it was their
anniversary?
Did
Jyou even know?
Something
akin to maddening hurt and deep-seeded fury burned within Koushiro as he took
his plate and flung it across the room.
The plate shattered, spraying a shower of meticulously prepared food and
sharp shards all over the wooden floor.
But
Koushiro didn't care.
Why
would he?
Jyou
obviously didn't.
Koushiro
stood up gradually and then gazed sadly at all the candles, tears shining in
his eyes. Slowly, he went to each
candle and blew them out, soon leaving the whole apartment completely
dark.
He
should have known…
He…
Koushiro's
jaw suddenly locked and his face became hard and cold. He needed to get away from this place – away
from the emptiness.
//And
I bet Jyou would never notice I'm away…//
Koushiro took out a piece of paper and scribbled
furiously on it, a few unwarranted tears falling onto the paper and smearing
the ink. He was about to put it up on
the refrigerator when something occurred to him.
//Why do I need to tell him where I'm going? He's not my keeper.//
Crumpling up the piece of paper and throwing it into the
trashcan, Koushiro quickly grabbed the car keys and stormed out of the dark
apartment, never looking back.
And as he started the car and zoomed out onto the icy
streets, Koushiro didn't bother to wipe away the tears that were rolling down
his cheeks…
~~
He was tired.
So very, very tired.
So tired that it took him a good ten minutes to actually
get the key into the lock on the door – but he shouldn't have bothered, it was
unlocked anyway.
And as the unlocked door opened, Jyou instantly knew
something was wrong and become VERY awake.
Koushiro _never_ left the door unlocked.
Never.
"Koushiro?!" Jyou called out as he rushed into the
apartment, all caution out the window.
When no one answered, Jyou became very worried.
"Koushiro!" he yelled again, hoping that the redhead had
just not heard him the first time.
And then he turned on the lights and stopped in his
tracks.
There were candles _everywhere_ and all of them were
burned to the point where there were no longer wicks. The air smelled of vanilla and sandalwood – Koushiro's favorite
scents. Jyou looked at the dining room
table and saw that there was a plate of food – his favorite – sitting there on
the table that had been covered in a red tablecloth…
"Oh my god," Jyou exclaimed in a hushed tone, his eyes
scanning over all the decorations again.
No…
It… it couldn't be…
Their anniversary.
Jyou prayed it wasn't…
He looked down at his watch and his heart sunk…
January 4
He… he… had forgotten.
//Oh Koushiro…//
Jyou gazed at the candles, seeing how they were placed
around the room, and Jyou felt his heart rip in half. Koushiro had went to so much trouble… and… and he had trampled
over all the hard work.
Jyou walked very slowly into the apartment and set down
his suitcase on the couch. He walked to
the kitchen, but before he reached it, something crunched underneath his foot.
Looking down, Jyou let out a strangled gasp.
All over the floor was broken glass and food…
"Koushiro??!" Jyou yelled as he suddenly felt a surge of
panic run through him.
Jyou ran through the house and searched every room, every
closet, everywhere… and the redhead was not to be found.
"Koushiro… I'm…I'm so sorry…" Jyou made out through
labored breaths, tears stinging his eyes.
Koushiro was gone…
And then the phone rang.
"Hello?"
Jyou asked, a little too eagerly as he picked up the phone..
"Hello, sir. This
is Officer Kago. Do you by any chance
know anyone by the name of Izumi
Koushiro?" a low voice asked.
"Y-yes. He lives
here," Jyou replied. Something very
cold landed in his stomach right then.
"Are you related to Mr. Izumi?"
"You… you can say that," Jyou said, the cold feeling
growing with each passing second.
"Well, Mr. –" Officer Kago started.
"Kido," Jyou supplied.
"Yes, well, Mr. Kido, you see…" Officer Kago began,
unsure on how to say what he had to say…
"What?" Jyou asked, something telling him he shouldn't
have asked.
"Mr. Kido, Mr. Izumi is dead."
A long silence seemed to suck Jyou into a hazy void…
He…
Koushiro…
"H-how?" Jyou asked… he… he had to know…
"It seemed that he ran off a bridge, sir. Didn't turn in time – the roads are real
slick this time of year. He was already
gone before we got there… I'm sorry, sir."
"No… no… no… Kou… no…NO!!" Jyou cried out, hot tears
spilling down his cheeks as the officer's words, so cold, so blunt, repeated
over and over again in his mind. Jyou
dropped the phone…
//Dead.//
Jyou suddenly felt extremely sick…
Koushiro couldn't be…
No…
It wasn't true..
It was all a dream – a nightmare…
//No//
//No…//
//NO!//
Jyou fell to his knees and immediately emptied the
contents of his stomach all over the floor.
Dead.
//No…//
Jyou couldn't believe it…
He…
He…
And then all Jyou knew was darkness.
He never heard the frantic voice that was calling his
name through the receiver of the phone…
~*~
Mr. Sintaro sat behind the little glass counter reading
his daily newspaper. A sad look
flickered across the old, dark eyes as they took in the headline story:
YOUTH DEAD AFTER DRIVING OFF BRIDGE
Last night,
Izumi Koushiro, a bright young man of 23 years
old, ran off Tuskimonto Bridge and died of
drowning in the
frigid waters of
Yue River… continued on 4AC
It was so sad these days… all these youths dying left and
right…
Mr. Sintaro shook his head and said a silent prayer for
the dead boy.
Then the small bell sounded, and Mr. Sintaro looked up
and smiled. It was the delightful young
man that he had been saving a ring for.
The young man, had convinced him to keep the ring until the he could pay
for it. He had been adamant about
getting that particular ring.
Mr. Sintaro thought that the person who was the love of
this blue-haired lad was surely lucky – it wasn't everyday that someone got
such a fine young man!
"Hello, lad! How are yo-" Mr. Sintaro started cheerfully,
but then suddenly stopped as he saw the look on the young man's handsome face.
"My, what happened?
Why the long face?" Mr. Sintaro asked, thinking that the look of
infinite sorrow did not belong on the usually happy face.
"Mr. Sintaro… I
hate to tell you this after making you keep the ring for me… but I… I won't be
needing it anymore," the young man said quietly, his voice laced with anguish.
"What happened? I
thought that everything was going swell!
Did the girl leave you for another man?
Women can be like that you know – gotta watch out for women like th –"
"No. _He_ died,"
the man cut him off, "Thank you for all your help Mr. Sintaro. I really appreciated it. Goodbye."
The young man's eyes darted to the paper for a few mere
seconds, and then the young man left the room.
Mr. Sintaro looked down at the picture of the deceased
youth and gasped.
He understood.
Shaking his head sadly, Mr. Sintaro looked at the door
through which the young man had exited…
"Goodbye, Mr. Kido."
~OWARI~
::sweatdrop:: Whew... that
was... weird. ^^; I don't think it came
out very good...
::sweatdrop:: Gomen.
And I was supposed to be
writing more of PoF. ^^;
(::Koushiro runs in::
::points to above ficcy:: WHAT WAS THAT?? I
_DIED_??? I THOUGHT YOU SAID
JYOU AND I WERE GONIG TO GET SOME
NOOKIE!!!!!)
::sweatdrop:: Sorry
Kou-kun... the fic sorta wrote itself... ^^;;
Thanks for reading!
Luv,
Trixie
