A/N: Well, here's another one-shot I came up with while I'm suffering writer's block. I made my friend give me words for the challenge…I seriously think there should be a category for fluff…
The first one had so many typos and mistakes…so I edited and reposted XD.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King; it belongs to Hiroyuki Takei.
Challenge: angel, blinding, dark, day, eyes, fears, hush, miracle, rain, signs, soul, sky, tears, time, wait, wall, weakness, world
Summary: ONESHOT. As if there's salvation in a thousand-year journey of hatred and loneliness…
Remind Me Not My Loneliness
It's not like he hated rainy days or anything like that. No, it's something else.
Dark orbs stared at the darkened sky as droplets fall in the deserted streets. The owner of this piercing gaze, a lone figure drenching in the downpour of winter, trudged slowly down the path.
Seriously said, he doesn't even know why he's here. Whatever's left of his companions wouldn't even know he's here, if they still cared. His spirit had diminished to nothing more than a mere existence, if it still existed at all. The thought of being in the usually human-filled city didn't once cross his mind as he was constantly thinking of only one thing: his purpose here.
It took two years for him to recover enough to walk normally again, and another for him to get here. How he got here from America, even he doesn't know. There were no signs of light, no signs of hope, as he made his way toward his destination, if it is a destination at all.
It seems to him as if even nature despises him now. Water fell on him mercilessly, mocking him of his failure and reduced state. There was nothing to complain about; he's suffered much worse. The hushed whispers of his past still haunted him. Their cries of "demon" and "cursed" never left his ears.
He knows that no miracle awaits him at the end of this path, that no light guides him. It was as if fate's cruel mercy played yet another trick on him, except that this one went just a bit too far.
Day turned to night and at some point amidst all this, the figure sat down at the side of the street; he's weaker than he thought, even though he'll never admit it, even to himself. His knees bent against his body, his head drooped, he thought about what he's doing, and where he's going.
There is…no point. What reason is there for me to go there? They all hate me, and I despise them just as much, if not more. Does even the Great Spirits view me wrong?
The cold tears of heaven stung his weakened body, and his expression grew grim. Am I…already too late for salvation?
Plip, plop, plip, plop, pl—
Suddenly, he no longer feels the mocking droplets. The darkness of night made him unable to see the shadow that loomed, but he looked up at the feel of a familiar presence.
Midnight-colored eyes reflected each other as one pair looked down and the other stared upwards.
"Hmm? What are you doing here?" A clear voice inquired after the sitting figure, the owner of it holding an umbrella over the head of his twin. The downpour half-drenched him, but there is a more important matter at hand, and the silly weather was temporarily forgotten.
To the figure on the ground, the appearance of the other is like that of a fallen angel, so unearthly yet here. It almost seemed surreal to be treated tenderly by one who he declared to be an enemy.
He quickly stood up. No matter the situation, he will never show his weakness to anyone, no matter who it is.
No, never weaknesses; he has no weaknesses.
He studied his twin. They are the dark and the light. His presence overshadows everything, while the other gives off blinding lights of clemency and hope.
It is so unfair.
He didn't respond. He has nothing to say, since he has no reason for being here. Despite all that he is, he still has fears: fears of losing his power, fears of not achieving his goal, fears of having too little…
Fears of being alone.
The other tilted his head to one side questioningly. "Hao, what are doing here?" He asked again, still holding the umbrella over his twin to protect the said twin from the merciless shower.
Another moment of silence indicated that the ambitious pyromaniac will not say. Yoh smiled, startling the older shaman. "Oh well," he said, shrugging it off, "it doesn't matter." He declared cheerfully. Then his expression grew into one of concern. "But it's awfully cold out here," he shivered slightly, "and then there's the weather," he added, holding out a hand, "why don't you come back with me?"
This offer more than surprised the onmyouji. Time elapsed as he looked at the ground, pondering over what Yoh could possibly be planning, although from his previous encounters with his twin, he knows that Yoh's too lazy and too good to be plotting anything.
The younger waited, giving his brother as much time as the older needs. Not a single thing in the universe can make the carefree brunette hate.
Hao stole a glance at his brother who noticed and returned the gesture with a bright welcoming smile. The wall of self-protection suddenly collapsed as he felt tears mingle with droplets on his previously-soaked face.
That astonished the younger of the two as he panicked. "E-eh? What did I do? Hao? I'm sorry! I—Whatever I did, it wasn't intentional! I'm really—" but Hao cut him off with a raise of his hand.
"I…" the older Asakura started, and looked down at the ground. "I…don't have anyone…" he sobbed softly. "…never anyone…except Kaa-san and Matamune…never…"
Yoh felt his heart being ripped apart at the poor state of the once-powerful shaman before him. He can guess that 'Kaa-san' is probably Hao's mother in his first lifetime. He went up and awkwardly embraced his brother. Hao was taken aback by this sudden warmth, but welcomed it. Yoh grew comfortable and patted his brother with one hand while the other held the umbrella over them both. "You also have me," he said calmly, "you're not alone anymore."
Hao felt touched. His soul went through the journey of a thousand years, and finally found consolation in the other half of himself, who he can now acknowledge is no longer the other half of him, but a whole different identity. He feels like a heavy burden had just been lifted off his entire being. The onmyouji wiped his tears and smiled. "Thank you, Yoh." Rainy days no longer bother him.
Yoh lightened up and took Hao's hand. "Well, then, come home with me," he walked a few steps then stopped, turning back, "but first, go grocery shopping with me." He had on one of his carefree grins.
Hao smiled softly. "Sure."
Yoh beamed. He looked up in the sky and his expression brightened. "Oh, the rain stopped."
The older shaman also looked to the sky. It's true, the clouds came apart and a starry sky greeted the two brothers. They looked at each other and smiled again, and made their way toward the market. Halfway there, Hao suddenly thought of something.
"Yoh?"
The younger brunette turned cheerfully to his brother. "Hmm?" he responded with a smile.
"Kaa-san and Matamune meant the world to me," he said with a soft expression on his face, "and now," the journey of time ended and he has finally found what everyone else did, "I guess you do, too."
It was as if it never rained.
-Owari-
That…wasn't one of my best works…but please! Hate me not, readers. Feel free to flame if it sucked; I won't tell you how you broke my heart...
Just kidding :) Review please?