Author: Celeste
Feedback: (Yes!) keviesprincess@netscape.net
Rating: PG for barely-there yaoi themes
Pairings: Very slight Haru/Yuki
Summary: Fluffity fluff fluff fluff- Yuki thinks about some silly things.
Spoilers: Not that I know of, really.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my sad, twisted scenario. As far as I know, anyway… *sweatdrop*
Dedication: For Skye, because she makes anyone feel fluffy with her reviews. ^_^
A/N: This has no substance at all. I just felt like doing a little experiment. *sweatdrop* it seems the pointless fluff gets the most feedback anyway, and I needed a bit of a change of pace from "The Price of Peace and Quiet" and "Storyteller." *sheepish* I kept making my friends depressed. Sorry!!! *bow bow bow* So anyway, usual apologies for stupidity, lack of plot, OOCness, pointlessness (intense in this particular case).
Distribution: Really…why would you want this?
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"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing. Just silly things."
"Silly things?"
"Yes. Just…silly things."
"Tell me about them?"
"They're not important. Just silly things."
"Silly things are beautiful sometimes, I think."
"You think everything is beautiful sometimes."
"That's not true."
"Yes it is."
"I think you're beautiful always."
I used to flush at words like that, could feel my muscles twitch ever so slightly when words like that would come out of his mouth because they made me uncomfortable.
And because they came so often.
Why would he say things like that?
I never liked to believe in words. They were empty and easy enough. Just silly things. Someone could say one thing and mean something else all together. Or someone could say something and mean every word of it but be unable to do anything, to make those words real, no matter how much they tried.
Either way, that just rendered them meaningless in the end, didn't it?
My brother has always been full of words that mean some sort of nothing. He spouts them off easily, doesn't take the time or the effort to try and discern what he is saying even as he says what he does. He is full of loud, superfluous words that he carelessly uses without thought or concern. Words used to impress, to fluster, to astound, to even mystify, yes. But all without any true, graspable meaning. Without any heart. He was the first to teach me that words, words like 'brother' and 'family' and every other word you could possibly think of, mean very little.
As I grew older, there were many more people than him around who showed me exactly how little words meant. They expanded on what I had learned from my childhood, confirmed it and institutionalized it in my head. My older cousin was full of them in the same manner as my brother. But he picked them more carefully, knew exactly what he meant with every single word he spoke. His words were chosen specifically to be ambiguous, to never mean one thing or the other but to simultaneously mean both and neither. He said everything he meant, but only because no one knew quite what he meant, ever. His words were crafty, deeply articulated. Sometimes, sometimes they seemed completely dishonest. They were shrouded, sly. Though he said what he meant, his words were never quite true. He made them unreal, indecipherable. To deliberately pick and choose words that no one can correctly comprehend negates their honest intentions, makes them unnecessary and useless.
Kyou is also one of those people who showed me how little faith one can put into what one says, however unintentionally. He is different from my brother and my older cousin, however. He means exactly what he says. He promises, fervently, constantly, promises that he will defeat me, that he will earn respect that way, and that nothing will ever stand in the way of achieving his goals. He says these words all the time, completely convinced of their irrefutable truth. Yet, he has been unable to follow through. Though he means exactly what he says when he says it, though he believes the words that come out of his mouth, he is rendered impotent, incapable of making his words the truth. The honesty with which they are uttered is countered by his inability to make them a reality. They mean very little in that respect, I think. They're just empty promises. They're just empty. They become like the words of my brother, of my cousin. Worthless, meaningless.
Various others have come since then, strengthening this belief I hold. I learned again, through the insincerities of classmates who want me to help them with homework, the sniveling of the fan club girls who profess to love me, and the proud praise of teachers who are really patting themselves on the back when they congratulate me on exams, that there is no true value to what is being said.
They're just words.
They don't really mean anything. At all. They're just silly things.
But he…Haru, keeps talking.
He doesn't stop, not with his words, those things that make me feel uncomfortable, those sayings of his that make my muscles tense a little bit and the blood rush to my face.
He just keeps talking.
Why does he say things like that?
And I…
…I keep telling myself. I keep telling myself that they're just words. They're just like everyone else's words.
They don't mean anything, really.
At all.
They're just silly.
And he can keep talking, and keep saying word after word after word as he likes, but I don't think…
…I don't think they mean anything.
I don't think they do.
I tell myself that they don't.
I fervently, constantly, rigidly tell myself, that they don't. They're nothing. Just…silly.
Just words.
They're…
…just like the words I tell myself.
Silly, really.
"You don't have to tell me, not if you don't want to, Yuki."
"I…they're silly, really, Haru."
"If you don't want to, you don't have to do anything. Silly or not. It's okay."
"Well, if you really want to know… I guess, I guess I was just thinking about…"
END