Disclaimer: I mean come on, I don't even watch Yin Yang Yo!
It would be better if you just read this. I think the other chapters are pretty bad and this is good enough to stay as a oneshot anyhow.
Yang opens the door and peeks in the room, out of habit more than anything. His feet shuffle in the ground and he finds the chair and puts it in its fixed position.
Yin is sleeping with her mouth closed, turned to the side, and her one hand curled up on her pillow. It is how she always sleeps. Yang watches almost dejectedly, his hands clasped tightly on his lap. He often wonders what she dreams about. Her lips twitch up and he stops his train of thought.
It is the only time of the day he ever lets himself watch his sister. His hands play with the ends of his shirt just as they do every night, and his eyes trail on her and her bed robotically, he's almost memorized the wrinkles on her bed, they change every night, but he notices one or two that are exactly the same. He doesn't know why, but he finds it still finds it hard looking at her now, he's almost certain she'll open her eyes and look at him.
Looking at him with those big, bright blue eyes (he almost laughs at the unnecessary alliteration). He's never really looked at them before (thank god Yin's never noticed, or if she had, she's never mentioned), only ever really meeting it twice or thrice. He admits he's afraid to stare in them, they give him unnecessary churns in the stomach.
(It's easier to admit he's scared, so that's always the farthest he's thought, any further and he's even more afraid he might not be able to come back.)
He sighs and looks up, trying hard to watch Yin as long as he could. He hates himself for being a coward, but he never tries to go beyond that. There's a little voice in his head that says he might do something too far. It also says this is wrong, but he's already gone far enough and he really can't stop himself now anyway.
He stares at Yin hardly, her hand twitches, and something in his heart jumps. He adjusts his arms so that his elbows are on his thighs and his hands are limping in the gap of his legs, except they're not limp more than they're clenched. There's something at the back of his throat and he wonders if he should force it out. But then, he doesn't want to ruin this peaceful air (though, honestly, it was just as heavy, too).
Yang glances at her sister's lips for half a second, firmly shut against each other. He vaguely wonders when she stopped murmuring, back before, Yang used to hear her talk in her sleep and tease and blackmail her when she woke up.
But then, they received separate rooms, hers being the one they shared, and he doesn't catch her in her sleep anymore, she's always the first one up, and he'd find it weird to go to her room just to hear what she was murmuring in the late nights.
Looking back, he realizes he doesn't quite recall when he started this ritual. He remembers waking up in the middle of the night—or was he even asleep then?—and wandering about to try to get himself sleepy enough. He remembers reaching her door (though he doesn't know why, or how) and opening it to at least get some fun out of his restless night. But then, he finds her sleeping calming, and he ends up grabbing a chair and puling it near the bed (and it always somehow ends up in the exact same spot). And then he finds himself doing it whenever he finds it hard to fall asleep, he's not even aware he's starting to do it daily, until it's too late to stop.
Then he wonders if that's when he started liking her. He doesn't know when he started having these…feelings…for her, from where he stands, it's somehow always been there, like how you've always been this tall, though you remember being shorter before.
He chuckles at the example. But then he tenses when he hears the vibrations from the walls of the room. He's not really scared of finding her awake, (which he realized was contradictory to a while ago but then he remembers) she never wakes up after all the times he's been in her room at night. She never really moves a lot, either. He almost envies her lack of sleeping problems. (But then, if he's never had one, then wouldn't that mean he's never started watching her sleep?)
Yin makes a soft sound from the back of her throat and Yang wants to smile, but then he can't, not really, so he just contents himself to taking all of her in. He realizes it's not a lot when he really watches her sleep, half the time, he muses in his thoughts and memories, and hearing her light breathing calms him to a state of immobility. Maybe it's because he doesn't really reflect a lot during the day, or it could be because watching her is still uncomfortable (he doesn't really know, he doesn't really care, he's only repeating himself anyway).
He looks at the clock and it registers that he's been here long enough, he really should go, he'll do this again tomorrow, anyhow. He stands up and tries to make his way to the door but ends up by her, he finds himself doing this every night, but even then, he's still mildly surprised that his feet aren't listening to him again.
Nearer to her, he notices the slight movement of her chest and the smallest and softest smile on her face. His hand twitches. Years of doing Woo Foo dulled her fuchsia hair into a modest gray pink color. He almost wonders if her fur is just as bristly as his is.
When he realizes what he's doing, he yanks his arm back to him, more forcefully than he initially thought necessary. He looks at his hand, nearly glaring at it, and scolds himself for even trying to touch her. He's never done so before, why should he start now?
He walks to the door and places the chair back in its original position, both harshly and doubtingly. He heads out the door before sighing heavily and almost dragging himself to his own room. Maybe tomorrow would go more smoothly than tonight.
(It would be much later when Yin wakes up wondering why she did, she's never had before, and why she feels disappointed. And even when it's already morning and she's out training, the disappointment doesn't fully leave her until Yang calls her for breakfast with that boyish proud smile.)
Dum dum duuummm. This was fun doing :3, I liked writing it, maybe this'll turn out better than the other stories I wrote, atleast the ones that I did continuously and for 1-4 hours. I've never been so good with doing stories without really stopping, never gives me enough time to think things through and often rushing and making it look slightly weird.
Vignette-ish, I think. I'm not sure. I'm not quite sure what a vignette is, exactly. Though I think I came quite close. Ah well.
Anywho, I'm not sure if Yin and Yang were OOC here, I don't really watch the series, haven't read a single story about them either, so I'm left with the basics (I think) and trying to keep them in character though making a little difference in it. Nyew.