Just a story exploring Ryuu's psyche, exposing all the dark secrets that could possibly be lurking beneath that innocent face.
Title: Memories Consume
Chapter one
Ryuuichi's POV:
Holding onto Kumagoro, I stared at the blank screen of the plasma TV, wondering if I should turn it on—the show I usually watched would be on soon, and I never missed an episode. But somehow, I didn't feel like watching it today. That happens a lot to me, changing my mind like that—how many things did I completely love one day and dismissed indifferently the next?
Too many.
Sighing I stood and left the room, wandering aimlessly around the apartment—I really wanted a house to myself rather than an apartment, but there's not much room in Japan for many houses, plus Tohma made the point that I moved around too much to get a house. Apartments were better since they were made for more temporary tenants--that's what he told me, and I knew he was right—I easily got bored with where I lived and often decided to move on a whim.
My tastes changed so often and so impulsively that I don't even remember what I liked the week before.
Only one thing ever remained constant in my life, and that was Kumagoro. I never got tired of having him around, having him to hold; he provided the only anchor in my life, the only thing that kept my thoughts from wandering back.
Wandering back…back to before Nittle Grasper, before I met Tohma, Noriko…before I even knew I could sing.
Suddenly I felt my eyes water and my body tremble—I needed to get my thoughts off of the past, away from the darkness before my singing career. I needed someone, anyone, to focus on—
"Kumagoro, are you hungry? I'm hungry, let's get some food na no da." I grinned at the plushie, relieved I always kept him around—if he wasn't around I would…no don't even think about it, Ryuu-chan, focus on food, on Kumagoro and food. I swallowed and headed toward the kitchen, pushing the voice from my mind.
"What's Kumagoro-chan wanting to eat na no da? Cereal…pancakes…." I looked through the cabinets and fridge, picking out things I could easily make. "…I don't feel like making anything, Kumagoro, why don't we order out?" I mumbled feeling the hunger pains and growls from my stomach—I never felt full, I always needed something to chew on, something….
Old habits die hard. That voice again, I shivered, shaking my head furiously to block out the memories struggling to emerge. Old habits are extremely hard to break.
"Stop that, it wasn't habit, it was necessary." I shook my head again, holding tightly to Kumagoro—I hated that voice in my head, it always tried to bring up the past.
Why are you ashamed then? The voice chuckled, more overpowering than usual. Why do you hide it? Why are you a coward running away from the memories?
"Stop. Please, stop." I clung tightly to Kumagoro and sat down, trying hard not to let the tears fall, trying harder to not let the memories rise up.
No luck.
Yells, cries, bodies, sweat; everything was a blur in my vision, a vision clouded by the images of the past. Images getting clearer and clearer, more realistic and…and sickening.
I gulped when the image of a room with dark grey walls pushed itself to the forefront, dark grey walls and a single window with glass painted black.
No…I didn't want to remember that place, I didn't want to return to those memories.
Weakling, idiot, you're ashamed of it, look at yourself!
The images instantly vanished and I was left staring into my reflection in a mirror—when did I get here? I gaped, trembling as I tried to remember when I left the kitchen, but all I saw were those memories and the voice.
Look at yourself! The voice once again screamed, not quieting until I focused on my reflection.
"Oh God!" I gasped, bringing my trembling fingers to my face where a bloody mark was—I wiped it away with my fingers, relaxing my breath when I didn't find a cut under it. Then I saw the blood on my arm. "No." I swallowed bringing my focus on the white flesh of my forearm.
A collection of cuts marred my skin, covered with dry and wet blood, sticky, vibrant red. I felt the ghostly feel of blood flowing down my arm even though most of the bleeding had stopped—how long did I black out this time?
"God." I sobbed, holding my bloody arm against my chest, "Not again. Nnn…Kumagoro, where are you na no da? Where are you?" I looked around the room, and found I couldn't stand up any longer. I wobbled and fell back against the wall, my legs trembling as I tried to ease myself to the floor. That's when I looked at my other arm and saw the blood flowing freely from it—and not stopping.
The blood flowed and formed in a puddle on the bathroom floor, zapping the warmth from me.
"I'm cold." I whimpered, tears falling from my eyes, my wrists hurting, and the memories flashing again through my mind. "Please no, no…I want Kumagoro, Kumago…."
I collapsed, darkness consuming me.
A/N: End of chapter, guess it's a cliffhanger, though that's mostly because I don't know what to write next. But I am going to continue this story, and try to finish it—I'm not that good at keeping up with finishing my fics though—I have over eighteen fics and only two are finished.