Shadows on the Wall
Character/Pairing: Tien Li, Tien Li/Kiichi
Word count: 920
Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue. This is purely for
fun.
Warnings: Spoilers for Volume 6 and 9
Author's Note: Written for the love mode
community anniversary contest. Another Tien Li fic... Why am
I not surprised? g
Many thanks to shiko-sensei for beta-ing.
Completed: 9 November 2006
The rain felt like small bullets. Harsh, heavy, and painful, each drop leaving small bleeding wounds that Tien Li couldn't close. The wounds were raw, itching at each step he took, at each and every sight he encounted. The fresh, dewy air he breathed in felt more like sharp icicles, scratching at the back of his throat.
Tien Li drew his coat closer and walked on, unseeing. Twenty-three steps until he hit the magazine corner-store.Thirty-five steps until he reached the back alley where he first saw a young, tear-faced boy. Forty-seven steps until he reached the apartment he now shared with that young, tear-faced boy — now older, not a boy anymore — but who still acted like magic existed and loyalty would never break. Fifty-nine steps until he reached the abandoned warehouse where they sometimes took refuge.
Sixty-one miles until he reached the large mansion where Tien Shue and Kiichi now lived.
He breathed out, and pulled his coat tighter around his neck; the material was wet and uncomfortable, heavy with the scent of rain and smoke. His neck was slick and sticky, smothered by the collar of his coat and cooled by every raindrop that slid down.
Thirty-seven steps now, until he reached his apartment. Sixty-one miles still, until he reached Kiichi. Tien Shue. Kiichi and Tien Shue — no, Kiichi and Haruomi. He needed to remember that: it was Haruomi now. The brother he had, the brother he hated — loved — was gone, and the specter left behind only had room in his heart for one person.
Tien Li couldn't blame him for that. Not when it was Kiichi.
His hands were cold, chilled, from rain, and numb from everything else — the memories were always strongest when he was cold and wet, with the sky dark and grey, and heavy with turmoil. He could still feel Kiichi in his arms, head turned towards him. Murmuring someone else's name. He could see the church, feel the red-hot fever running through him as he ran and ran, looking for Kiichi, always looking for Kiichi, because Kiichi hadn't come back. He could remember what it had felt like, the first time he wanted to have something other than revenge. How it had felt, that first time, to want something more than revenge.
Sixy-one miles. Not a very long journey, if he drove the way he wanted to. If he wanted to.
His feet made small splashes, as he continued walking steadily. His pace was slow, mindful, but firm. Even if his mind was far, far away, his body knew what to do, his feet knew where to take him. It was automatic now, which steps to take, when to turn left, turn right, when to stop, when to go. As long as his feet took him in the right direction, Tien Li could afford to be distracted.
There were reasons he liked walking through the rain. There were also reasons why he hated sitting in the inside of their apartment, dry and restless, slowly burning up. Waiting. Waiting and wanting, and remembering things he shouldn't be.
Wanting things he couldn't have.
Things he did have at one time, even if it had been cold and wet, the rain cacooning them in a space entirely theirs.
Tien Li shook himself, shook away the wet rivulets that dripped onto his eyes, like tears he had never shed. The chill which had permeated his entire body now felt like it belonged there, as if he had never been other than cold, as if the fire in his belly, the burn in his heart, had never really existed.
Maybe it never had. Maybe it was just in his head, the past blurring with the present, until he didn't know left from right, right from left.
As if he was still the Tien Li back then, who had a Tien Shue he knew like the back of his own hand, by his side for always and forever. As if he was still the Tien Li from years ago, who had wrapped Kiichi so tightly in his arms, that he would have killed anyone trying to take him away. As if he wasn't the Tien Li he was now, an image remade from fire and blood, and the knowledge of who he had to be and what he could never have.
Twenty-five steps until he reached his apartment. Less than sixty-one miles until he reached Kiichi and Haruomi.
He walked, counting each step silently, his hands buried in the pockets of his coat, while the rain and wind whipped his face.
The rain fell heavily as Tien Li continued walking, each step making a subtle thump, providing its own count down until he finally reached home. Yi Shin would be worried, no doubt, and nag at him once he'd gotten back. He'd say, I told you it was going to rain, why'd you have to walk through it anyway? and Tien Li would say, Because I want to, and I told you to shut it. Then Yi Shin would seethe and make noises and threats, while Tien Li would go into the bathroom, washing away the smell of rain and smoke, letting the heat and steam leech away the chill under his skin. Then he would go back into their small den with the large, pane window and spend the rest of the night watching the sky weep, cigarette in hand.
