Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Hana Yori Dango
A/N: This is already posted up to chapter three on my LJ and already written through chapter 8. For those reading Truly Madly Deeply, if there are any, I might go ahead and post a few chapters later tonight, but it's almost complete on my LJ.
And remember...reviews are like food.
Prologue
He would never forget the way she looked that night. She descended the left hand staircase with insurmountable grace and elegance. She took his breath away. Everything around him, the other party goers, the musicians, his parents, everyone, faded from his view, from his consciousness leaving only her.
She took each step down, carefully, eyes cast down as if she did not trust her own footfalls. Each step was as light as air, giving her the appearance of a beautiful princess floating down the stairs. Her long dark hair bounced over her bare shoulder, his breath catching in his throat with the movement.
If only she would look out among the guests gathered and see him. If only those dark warm eyes would look up and find him.
Halfway down the stairs, she slowly began to look up, her eyes landing on her future moving slowly down the opposite staircase. She paused in her step and he could see her chest move with a slow deep breath and her lips, nervously shifted, the corners lifting and her eyes sparkling.
Soujiroh closed his eyes as they met on the platform between the two sets of stairs, the man with her, reaching out his hand to caress her cheek sending many hearts a flutter in the crowd of guests. He opened his eyes again just in time to see the couple descend the larger staircase toward the party.
It was torture, but a torture he seemed destined to participate in day after day. He watched the couple dance, his heart breaking, and the pieces plunging into his stomach when the man wrapped his arms around her. The sound of her giggles when the man twirled her playfully was like icicles plunging into his heart.
He wanted to run away, but he couldn't. This was something he had to subject himself to. He had to become accustomed to the sights and sounds of the couple. He had to harden himself against the pain seeing her with him caused, the suffocating need for air when she wasn't with him, knowing every night she would be the last thing that man would see before falling asleep and the first thing he saw in the morning.
And then she was standing in front of him, her small hand reaching out for his. A strange feeling of crippling pain struck his heart when she took his hand and smiled up at him. He closed his eyes for only a second, accepting his sentence…his punishment for being too late. There was a voice, distant, announcing their dance.
He stood in the middle of the dance floor, looking down at what he could only describe as the light that had led him there, the strength that kept him going…hoping, his purpose…his everything. And yet he stood there with her unable to say those words again.
How could she do that? How could she stand there doing nothing and still take his breath away?
"Soujiroh-kun."
The soft sound of her whispering voice was torturing in its enchanting beauty. He closed his eyes, his heart stilling and his breath stalling in his chest. He opened his eyes as she stepped forward, closer, her small hands resting on his shoulders. It was like reaching out for something he knew would pull him under, the vines of his life intertwined with hers; wrapping around him pulling him into the depths of what could only be a dream. And he did it anyway. He welcomed the downfall, accepted it, jumped in with both feet and prayed the water would fill his lungs and take him quickly because this was his last chance to feel her in his arms and it was worth the pain, the slow agonizing death.
His hands rested gently on her hips, moving her slowly over the dance floor. The sounds of whispers followed them, many telling others of their friendship, their history, and their futures. And it was all drowned into a soft mumble in the back of Soujiroh's mind as his eyes were locked on hers.
He was drowning and yet it seemed to be the only time he could breathe. The floor began to fill up with other dancers, mixing them among the crowd, hiding them from the spotlight. Soujiroh pulled her closer. His eyes closed and he took a deep painful breath as he felt her sigh into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck and her fingers instinctively playing with the hair lying against his neck.
No, this was the only time he could breathe for a reason.
Yuki was not the water drowning him.
Yuki's presence was not slowly killing him, filling his lungs with that ice cold water.
It was her absence.
Yuki was his life jacket…his oxygen.
He held her tightly.
"Soujiroh-kun," she whispered, her breath dancing across his neck.
But it was time.
It was time to let go of the life jacket, to hold his breath and accept death.