NUTTTTTT!
I wrote this for youuuuuu :D
Yayies!
Condition: Kaoru must be sick. (physically, of course)
... I think the title kinda fits and I forced the situation into a twist.
VERY LIGHT HINTS OF KAORUXHARUHI...
Oneshot :D
I don't think I'll ever write for this pairing again...
He is sick, waning from the illness that has corrupted his mind and body. It wraps around him, the dainty scarlet lace that imprints itself onto his delicate, white skin. It minces his sanity into nothing but streaks of colours (he does enjoy seeing them, of course) exploding into sparks that stay fixed momentarily in the faded corners of his mind. They gleefully spin around, the tip of their fingers disintegrating. The air eats into them, yet they are unaware, only with the knowledge that this is their life. The crumbling effect begins, as their atoms begin to wrench themselves out of the bonds and fall.
How thrilling it is to fall, Kaoru does not know. The voices whisper to him, that it is simply splendid, the sudden burst of euphoria that pounds in his ears, the vague, smudged colours spreading over the horizon. And the feeling of time never stopping. The hoarse croaking circles him in a loop of amazement and wonder, delight that washes over him (woosh, woosh, they go). It blazes on in his system like a wildfire and it captivates him with the soaring stars that shoot across the sky.
Kaoru, is blistering. Perhaps the fire is too much? Yet it is addictive and despite the searing pain, he wants more. He wants to lose himself in delusions, sketching out a new platform of freedom for him. This reality is too blunt, too bleak for him. The future is already decided upon and it tempts upon him to take up the challenge of breaking away from routine. Back to fantasies. It is where he can rely upon. They are as mentioned, occurring only in that tiny, undeveloped (he is still rather like a child) space of his mind. No risks will be made, and his future stays fixed, hammered into place.
His eyes are glassed over, silky hair ruffled by the constant turning of his body. He pities Hikaru for not being able to enter this dynamic algorithm. They have been mirrors, reflecting each other. But now, Kaoru has found more joy and it does not balance the scales. His vision is fuzzy, eaten by black little blots. Hikaru is just by his side, anxiously covering up his trembling twin with a blanket. It does not soothe the soul, instead it scorches Kaoru, igniting another wave of exhilaration.
Or is it the other way around? Is it Hikaru in a trance on the bed and Kaoru taking care of him? They look too much alike, two peas in a pod. Is he Hikaru? Kaoru - not Hikaru, he decides- shakes his head and buries his head deeper into the pillows.
Kaoru looks at his twin again, this time with reassurance. He has finally found the courage to break away from the spiteful illusions, to taste the chilling air of reality. He wishes to forever drown in the promising flame of fantasies, yet Hikaru is still stuck, torn between the two worlds. How could he abandon him for his own pursuit of happiness? Kaoru blindly searches for Hikaru's hand and grasps it. Hikaru's fingers shift about to tangle themselves amongst Kaoru's ones.
"I'm fine," that lie is obvious and sticks out futile.
Hikaru rolls his eyes but patronisingly pets Kaoru's head.
There is another voice, warm and soothing. It, although, is deep, sounds feminine. Kaoru peeks out and spots a blob of brown. He grins goofily, attributing his strange actions to the fever. Haruhi, now? She lowers her face close enough for Kaoru to recognise. Her palm fits snugly on his forehead and he nestles into it before she pulls it back up, sharply. A gasp and a muted whisper to Hikaru. More shuffling of the blankets. Hikaru nods.
Kaoru muses if he should continue on with the heart-thrumming adventure, with stars that darts about his subconscious. This illness is holding a compress over his senses, shutting them down and away from the boring, monotonous merry-go-round of life. He wants his life to be undecided, entwined with uncertainty, coiled with excitement. Yet at the same time, he wants a certain amount of fixation, such that he would not have to fret. Kaoru does not want a life wherein he would have to jumble his nerves due to anxiety over how he would have to get over tomorrow. Fickle.
Greed. Realistic, Kaoru decides.
Haruhi sighs, wiping his brows. Haruhi, the one he had always envied. She had the 'perfect' lifestyle. She was a commoner, yet with certain privileges. Although she aspired to be a lawyer, would life really let her fulfill her wishes? There was always a slight chance that she might end up somewhere else, wouldn't she? The future was just a haze, a smoky screen of doubt. As for him... it would either be to manage his family's designing business or overtaking the computer software company.
He fiddles around with the memories in his mind- stuck, glued firmly to the whites of his skull. He tries to pry them away but the fireworks are disturbing him, luring him together with them away from reality. It... is not enough. He shudders in exhilaration at the thought of living the imaginary life of risk and adventure, waking up to comfort if he wants. Will he? Without acknowledging the possibility of those thoughts, he continues to search for another memory. Ah yes, of course. How could he forget the fact that Haruhi was the only outsider who could differentiate them? She pointed at them, naming them correctly. Hikaru's smile faltered, or was it his? And they finally decided to let her win.
There was no point in lying, for they weren't exactly sure if they were lying. Who could tell them apart? Only she proved to, or perhaps they were so certain she could be right? The fever was melting Kaoru's brain into a puddle of confusion.
Her fingers stroked his hair and he heard her sigh. He grins cheekily, a little happy that she is concerned about him, instead of the ever troubling Hikaru.
With that last thought he sinks into the fireworks again.
I've been busy writing stuff for school and stuff. And I still have a script to write. sighs.
LOL! :D
Splintered Rainbows
even rainbows turn to dust, don't they?