Title: Shinigami
Pairing: AriadnexCobb
Rated T
Genre: Romance/Drama
Summary: "I do not know if you remember, Ari-chan, but you have to die to become a Shinigami."Ariadne makes a choice. It may not have been the best one, but it's done.
On her phone's screen there was the number of missed calls (thirty and counting) and her e-mails were left unopened. A bottle of scotch had been left on her table, a present from an Irish classmate of hers. She had already helped herself to a healthy dose of the alcohol, and the white-haired young man sitting on the chair across the room smiled when she sipped from her glass again.
"It will take much longer if you dink yourself into it, you know?" he tilted his head, the Asian features sharper than usual in the low light of the apartment, "Much more painful too."
Ariadne blinked at him, the stupor settling in quicker than she imagined.
"How do you suggest I do it, then?"
The architect supposed she sounded amused, and she thought idly if it was a good idea to drink before doing this. She didn't want people to think she was a drunk when they found her.
"They are not going to find you, Ari-chan."
The Japanese accent had all but disappeared from his voice because of the extensive training she gave him, and now, what was left was only a whisper of it, making his English sound exotic and mysterious. No offense to Saito, but he had nothing on this...man(?) in front of her when it came to commanding auras.
Ariadne bunched up the soft fabric of the dress she was using. It had been a favorite piece of the wardrobe of a younger version of her, and now it was used as a nightgown in the heat of the summer.
It was not summer now.
In fact, autumn was coming, and the days were already getting colder, but she had decided that if she was going to do this, at least she would be comfortable.
Looking at her companion, she wondered about his words.
There would be nothing to find. She would disappear and then the numbness would make itself known, perforating her skin and accommodating itself on her soul.
She would not be Ariadne Bishop anymore.
And, God help her, she was happy with this.
Ariadne Bishop was a cynical and bitter young woman, with eyes too old for such a young body. With an enormous amount of love to given; love which was rejected by the only one she wanted to give it to. And it hurt, and not like the little crushes we get along the way. More like unadulterated, pure love being tossed aside because of unimportant society rules and because of a man's fear of trying to let himself be happy again. That kind of love that hurts like hot iron branding your skin when it's rejected.
She had been hurting for the past four months, and that was when Yuki came to her with the proposition and she leaped at the chance of being somebody, anybody else, after what she had gone through.
The rational part of her tells her constantly that she should never let herself get involved this way, to let herself become ingrained into his family, to let the children love her, and more importantly, to love the children when, from the beginning, she knew they were not and would never be hers to love.
So yes, maybe that was the last straw; his confused, panicked blue eyes focusing on anything in the room but her. The anger-filled words being used as a defense mechanism against his own feelings, against his strong involuntary reaction to her simply washing the dishes, against the kiss he bestowed upon her more than willing, if confused, lips.
She likes to think she got out of there before starting to hate him, but the bitterness appears now and then, taking the shape of a beautiful French woman, who also lends voice to her self-loathing thoughts.
Ariadne has never been enough. Not to her parents, not to her friends and certainly not to Dominic Cobb.
It is not a question of whether she will jump or not, but when.
Yuki is quiet.
Her young companion (he looks like a teenager) is on his third apple now. The white-haired hair, which he adopted because of his namesake (Yuki = Snow) is longer than she remembers, and it's tied at the nape of his neck with a small strip of leather.
"It's time, Ari-chan."
She pauses on her observation of the London skyline and stares at him. Yuki had stopped his eating, the half eaten fruit lying on the counter now. And, just like that, she knows he cannot delay it for her sake any longer.
The brunette breaths in, feeling the cold night air penetrate her nostrils. She wanted to do this, yes, but she also wanted to record so many sensations on her memory; smells, tastes...
"I do not know if you remember, Ari-chan, but you have to die to become a Shinigami."
Ariadne chuckled, as if the thought of her own death was merely a passing amusement, and turned to Yuki, her hair billowing with the wind.
"Just jump, huh?" she asked, her voice light, but trembling a little.
Yuki smiled and nodded.
"Just jump."
Ariadne went to the balcony, and with the aid of the piano stool removed from the living room, stepped onto the railing.
Yuki was there, suddenly, floating above the ground, and she felt a little giddy with the thought that she would be able to do such a thing.
Or maybe it was just the alcohol.
She grabbed his hand, now ice-cold, and remembered holding a much warmer version of said hand, preparing to jump into a river in the middle of the Japanese summer.
"With me, Ari-chan?"
She nodded, not looking at him, or down bellow, maintaining her gaze on what she could see of the London Bridge.
"With you."
He was just waiting for her, muscles relaxed, the opposite of her own, coiled and tensed.
"I don't know what it's like to be half of a whole."
This is said with a little self-depreciating smile and Yuki tightens his grip of her hand. In less than a second, his lips rest on her ear and his icy breath teases her skin.
"You will learn much about souls, Ari-chan. But I can assure you, that every human is born with a complete soul."
She doesn't know what to say to this, so she continues to look at the London sky, and pulls on Yuki's hand a little.
"On three."
Yuki smiles and starts.
"One."
She continues.
"Two."
And both say.
"Three."
Ariadne jumps into the night, letting of Yuki's hand, while he only watches, floating above. He knows that those who will look for the architect will not find her, not even what would be left of her after such a fall. To become a Shinigami, a God of Death, is to put aside your humanity, but not sacrifice it. A body will not be found, but Ariadne is not alive anymore.
With a last smile, Yuki disappears, as if he was never there in the first place; he had to prepare his friend for her new life.
Inside the apartment, Ariadne's phone vibrates, warning about a voice message being received.
If the architect were there, if she were alive now and pressed the button to listen, she would have heard Dom Cobb's voice.
"Aria...I'm ready to talk now. I was an idiot and...I want to try. Please, please, call me."
The End (?)
So...yeah, I had absolutely no idea that the first fanfic I would ever publish here would be in english and about Inception. Anyway, about this, the Shinigami is the God of Death in the japanese culture, the one who helps souls crossover. I have no idea where this came from, but the idea would not leave me, so I decided to write it and use it as an experience.
What else...? Oh, yes! This fanfic is dedicated to Lobsters Forever and Voldemort's Spawn, because they were the ones who got me hooked on this pairing. Since it's their fault, I'm giving them the choice of either a prequel or a sequel. I will write both, you jus need to choose which you want first. Remeber, Ariadne is not dead, she just isn't...alive anymore.
Review, but no flames, it's my first fanfic in english people! Be polite.
I need a beta, any candidates?