Chapter 1: Day 2 - misty
"Soubi!"
The man snapped his head up, off the desk, at the sound of his name.
"Soubi, this is due next class, if you don't start now, I'll dock you a whole letter grade."
"Yes sensei, pardon me." Soubi's voice was monotone, layered with sleep. The teacher walked away, a rolled up paper in his hand, as if he would hit the desk to startle Soubi awake next time. Soubi sighed, starring at the blank canvas. He was just drawing a blank, his head felt heavy again. Fatigue definatly catching up.
Another butterfly?
Soubi squinted at the paper, picked up his pencil, and carefully stroked a single line down the page. He stopped and took his drawing tool away. After a few seconds he quickly seized the eraser and violently smudged the graphite away, 'till nothing was left. Already frustrating himself, Soubi threw his head in the air, then down into his hands, propped up by his elbows. He seemed oblivious to the curious eye's of the other students around him. Finally he raised his hand, and without taking his head up said, "Sensei, I would like to leave early."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
No inspirational thoughts came to Soubi at his house either. He didn't bother telling Kio, who was in a different class then, that he had left, Soubi had the extra room that the men used as a studio to himself. He dropped the canvas on the easel like a dead weight, and starred at it again. Throwing his bag to the corner, he preceded to walk up the few steps to his elevated room.
The ray's from the sun coming in from the window provided enough light that no switch was needed. Soubi treaded heavily to his dresser, opening the second drawer he used to store his art supplies in. But instead of reaching in to take what he needed, he starred. A much more recent picture of Ritsuka smiled up at him. Soubi was the one holding the camera, he said he wanted photo's of Ritsuka by himself. Soubi smiled, recalling what had happened before the picture was taken, the blush still evident on Ritsuka's features.
"Soubi! I turned fourteen yesterday, and you still haven't given me a gift!" Ritsuka pretended to whine, sitting on the park bench, flipping through pictures on his digital camera. Soubi stood over him, looking down with sincere eye's on the young boy. Soubi knew Ritsuka could care less if he got a birthday present, Soubi had to wonder why he was asking him for a gift.
Soubi smiled anyway "What would you like?"
Ritsuka paused, thinking. Soubi didn't miss the red on his cheeks, even though he ducked his head down, so his soft, black hair covered his eye's.
"You don't have to get me anything, it was just a thought." Ritsuka turned the camera off, and stood up. Soubi interrupted his actions with words.
"But I am getting you something." Soubi hesitated, then smiled warmly, looking at the boy "Two things." Soubi made a 'V' sign with his fingers, indicating the number 2.
"Oh! You don't have to do that." Ritsuka knocked his head back up automatically, the blush gone.
"But I want to." Soubi expected this response from Ritsuka, his love, the one he would die for, if only given the command. His Ritsuka.
"Well, okay. If you absolutely have to." Ritsuka mumbled, blush creeping up on his features again. Soubi turned, stooping down to Ritsuka's height. He waited 'till Ritsuka decided to look into his eye's by himself, Soubi could tell he was trying to find something else to look at.
"I don't have to, I want to." Soubi pulled some stray hairs from Ritsuka's face, behind his ear, making the boy shudder. "Anything for Ritsuka."
Although he was still blushing, Ritsuka pushed Soubi's fingers off his neck. "Don't say things like that." He closed his eye's, definite. "What if I told you to do something you could never do?"
Soubi brought his fingers back up Ritsuka's neck, soft and and light. He felt Ritsuka flinch away. "I would do it, if it were for Ritsuka."
Said boy scoffed, it made Soubi laugh inside.
"Whatever, but you'll see. I'll find something so impossible, you'll never be able to do it."
Soubi stopped the memory. He was lying on his bed, the photograph still clutched in his hand, which was hanging off the side of the bed. He suddenly took deep thought to Ritsuka's words.
"I wasn't able to..." Soubi whispered, so soft, he could barely hear himself. He held his breath as he removed his glasses, and set them on the stand.
He glanced at the digital clock as well. Seven thirty PM, to early for bed though Soubi felt exhausted. He finally exhaled, rubbing his eye's and rolling over to lay on his side. Blond hair swayed down his face, obscuring the face in the photograph. He ignored the "I'm home." from Kio, and in a few hours fell into unconsciousness, nightmares sure to follow.
"Ah- Soubi! It hurts..." Ritsuka kept his good arm squeezed tightly around his gashed stomach.
"Shh, Ritsuka. I'm here so it's okay." As he said this, Soubi began unwrapping the bandages from his neck, ignoring the bright pool of blood, slowly covering the ground.
Like a parasite.
Soubi forced the jacket off Ritsuka, who howled in pain at the movement.
"Sou-bi." Ritsuka coughed, he felt his shirt tearing away.
"I'm sorry, I wont do that again." Soubi grimaced when he saw the gaping hole in his sacrifices stomach, Ritsuka's insides exposed to the cold night air. The smell of gore made Soubi's eye's water. A state of helplessness washed over his usually calm façade. But he couldn't show his weakness, that would make Ritsuka feel worse.
"I'm going to die." Ritsuka felt his eye lids get heavy.
"You're not going to die." Soubi promised, forcing Ritsuka's hand up to stuff his denim jacket into the oozing wound, then let Ritsuka hold it down.
"...Seimei..." Ritsuka closed his eye's.
"Ritsuka, keep your eye's open!" Soubi commanded his sacrifice.
"...It's hard." Blood coated saliva oozed from the corner of his mouth.
Soubi cursed himself for leaving their cell phones at home. They left together, unaware that they carried no phone.
Soubi had one idea, risky as it may seem...
-was is possible...
Soubi's eye's shot opened, as if a gun had been fired near his head. At his ear, he felt moisture. Slowly rising, propping himself up with his elbows, starred at his pillow.
It was soaked. The stain of salt water making the white pillow appear with an off-color of yellow and gray. Crying in his sleep.
Again.