Hey. This is my newest story on fan fiction. It'll be most likely only a two shot type thing because I procrastinate with other stories by starting a new one every time I mean to start that other one. Black Ink will be updated soonish. I started it since my very first review was by my favourite writer Freakyanimegal =D now the length will depend on when I finish the chapter XD Anyway. This is about Yuan and Kratos only as friends. I guess you could make it love but I simply felt like doing something on their friendship and how it changed because with time, many things do seem to change, for better or for worse. So Play the game if yeah don't know when this is set. XD I mention First class is an epic movie with epic sauce music and epicness? No? That's unrelated? Awe come on don't be so meanyface like XD haha sorry if they both seem very OC like. I tried my best!
I disclaim Tales of Symphonia and its characters simply because silly Namcopoo is their owners. Writing is mine. Don't steal it. Since that won't get you very far!
=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3
+
Our Girls+
He doesn't remember passing out, or at least getting close. He doesn't hear the cries for him to open his eyes, or the pleas to not leave his friends alone. He doesn't feel the hands gripping his wrists trying to keep him all there. He doesn't hear the screams of his old friend, Mithos, even though his anger is intense, as he screams at Yuan for being a coward.
All he can hear is the choked sobs his best friend, his brother, is making.
It kills him and he wants nothing more then to pat his cheek, asking him why he is crying, because for a moment, he forgets why he is laying there in his friend's arms.
He coughs and his friend is reminded of something it seems and he is curious to why his mouth tastes of warm copper. He feels himself choke on it again and oddly he feels calm, serene, and almost happy regardless of his apparent distressing situation.
He can't hear them anymore. His eyes growing heavy and his ears shuts down, blocking out the world he was not so used too.
He never thought he would die in a world of purple, or even before his human brother, but here he is dying in a foreign world along side his best friend, so familiar and soothing, and his companion, no longer recognizable or comforting.
It's black now. Black and empty. His memory is returning too, green hair and emerald eyes, once alive and now not so much. His heart clenches but whether it is because he kills to lose her or because he is now dying because he can't lose her, it is unseen. All he does know for sure is that soon, he will be with her. To run his fingers gingerly through her silky green hair, to kiss her pink lips, to hold his lengthy fingers in her long elegant elven hands. He realizes why he would be so calm in the sight of his death. Now he had her, all of her, with him, together, for all of eternity. It made him smile simply to think about and he slowly relaxes, embracing this serenity.
Of course though, all calm feelings never last. He is ripped from his serenity by a sharp burning pain in his hand and it is more uncomfortable by the minute. He tries to move his hand and oddly finds that he can. This worries him to no end and he opens his mouth to say something, it takes him a couple minutes to truly speak but when he does it is raspy;
"… M-Mar-tel…?" he hears a bitter laugh from behind him and though he wants to open his eyes and look, he cannot. Soon though a slam of the door allows him the knowledge he no longer requires to look.
He pauses. A door? Something in his chest drops to his gut and his jaw tightens tightly. He wasn't gone. He was still on the planet of mana the blond child had doomed them all too. The burning in his hand grows more intense, enough to the point he truly believes he is on fire. He lets out a choked sound, unable to turn his neck to view what is beside him, and shakily moves his fingers of the hand not in pain. He runs it across a bandaged material. Before he can truly get his bearings of what it is a hand is placed on his and gently it is pushed back onto his bed. He decides it would be better to open his eyes now then after the figure makes him move again. Slowly, his dull ocean blue eyes awake from their sleep and he moves them to the side and locks with worried and angry crimson irises.
"Burn." That's all he can manage for now, that and a moderately loud groan in pain, as his left hand flexes weakly in attempt at ridding of the menacing burn. Now his eyes move to his left arm, half to make sure he wasn't on fire and half to really see what it is that is hurting him so. A purplish crystal sits on the back of his hand, gold metal spiralling around it and gripping into his pale flesh.
"Thank the spirits your okay!" his friend's deep voice sounds odd but comforting in his ears, though at that moment he pushed away that feeling. When had it gotten to be so deep, his voice that is, he thinks. When did things change so drastically? One moment it was noogies for Mithos, laughing with Kratos, and loving Martel. It had all left him. The happy days were gone. Martel was dead; Mithos might as well have been too. He has not see- "Well maybe physically, but what the fuck happened there? I know it's hard Yuan! But she wouldn't have wanted that out of you! You-"
"How would you know what she wants?" he snaps, eyes flaring to life and moving to his tanned brother. "You didn't fight back! You took his side, Kratos! He wants to destroy everything we fought to save because he's no different then the armies, the killers, the slavers. He's just like them. He couldn't take it. If he doesn't need to be aware, if he doesn't need to be here, in his mind, as he destroys this world for someone out of our reach. If he truly thinks that Ma-" he lets out a sigh unaware he had had enough air to yell at his friend. He needn't stop. He is mad. Mad at everything. "She wouldn't have wanted this, Kratos, this killing for her, killing of many innocent people, she won't be able to live again like that, knowing that, and besides, coming back now is wrong. She is supposed to be dead. She is supposed to be with the spirits, with our ancestors, not in that seed. Not on this planet." His voice is weak now, quiet. He loathes himself and he knows his friend can see that, feel it. He knows that his friend too feels sad, if not for Martel, then for him. Because he knows that Kratos would do anything to back him up, to help him. Sadly he does not care. Right now he is hurt, broken, lost, and angry. Sadly, Kratos is the only one here for him to yell out.
Kratos clearly has nothing to say to him, obviously aware that Yuan would wake up kicking and screaming, but his eyes grew sad for his friend and he set his hand on his forehead. Yuan chokes and his eyes close to half-idled. The dull emotionless expression returns to his face and he looks to his brother once more. Kratos looks pained, worried, and scared for his friend and he runs his hands through Yuan's hair. He closes his eyes all the way and bites his tongue. Though he could only feel the fire cover his body and the broken heart he couldn't take, this feeling was interchangeable, he would never change from being the frightened half-elf hiding under Kratos' bed through a thunderstorm and Kratos' affectionate brotherly action would never stop soothing him. This was one thing that would always be there. He stops and his eyes open staring blankly at the bleached white roof, eyes still dead as before, but yet a slight bit more alive.
Would this really be forever? Would he really have his brother sitting beside him? He had thought he'd have Martel forever. Look how that went. His heart clenched again. it seems as if the heart ache was honestly blocking his fiery pain out. He didn't start crying till his heart ached. Not once had he thought of the stone in his flesh. He hadn't thought Mithos would force it on him, make him live for all eternity. He didn't think he could take that. He flinches when his friend wipes the tears away then slides his hand through Yuan's hair once more. He hates this. Being weak, broken, destroyed, and making Kratos sit here and watch it. He hated that right now he could do nothing more then cry, more then aware that even though Martel was gone from his life, the world would still move and Kratos would be forced to drag him along and attempt to keep him alive.
He knew he himself wouldn't.
=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3=3
Oh Look! A comment at the end! Clearly that means it's time to review so I can be better or have a silly conversation with random people around the world! Good times!
REVIEW =D