AN: I wanted to write this before I forgot about it. Oh, and on a side note: THIS IS FOR YOU KNOX, HATE AWAY!
Warnings: Major Character death. Possible Oc'ness?
Summary: When Takaba stepped out of Asami's life six months ago, he'd learn to loathe the photographer more than anything else. He'd moved on, and was planning to propose to a woman in the near future. However, a shoebox full of pictures and a letter threatens to change all of that.
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He eyed the peculiar and eerily plain shoe box laid neatly across the pillow of his large bed. Brown and old, adorned only with the faded words "To Asami, From Akihito," the odd box aroused his curiosity more than anything had before. He attempted ignored the slight tinge of pain that pinched his heart upon reading the familiar name, but did so to no avail.
Betrayal and anger ignited in the pit of Asami's stomach, and he fought the urge to viciously swipe the repulsive object from his presence, followed by dropping a lit cigarette in order to set the contents ablaze.
So simple, so plain_this box reeked of Takaba Akihito, and had the sender's name not been plastered in the same ugly color as Asami's own name, than by pure observation, he would have been able to tell that the photographer had sent him the unattractive object.
Six months away from the the younger man had given him time to densenselize himself to Akihito's enticing pull. Without a trace, the photographer had disappeared from Tokyo. And as far as Asami knew, he'd disappeared completely from his life. The amount of pain Asami felt after Takaba had left him was comparable to nothing he'd ever felt before. No physical scars or mental scars could relate to the excruciating pain that the younger man's sudden absence had ignited in Asami's being.
Therefore, when love had failed him, he turned to hate. Hate made him angry and wrathful, made him loathe the very thought of the photographer. Though it took time, he learned to reverse his pain and use it to his advantage. The more he hated Takaba, the more he forgot about him.
He'd tried to moved on.
For the sake of his company, he even considered marrying to strengthen ties. His partners had daughters, daughters whom fawned over Asami for his god-like appearance and enormous accumulation of wealth. Capturing the heart of a woman was child's play to him. Having sex with her was a walk in the park.
But he remained completely abstinent. HIs brain kept tricking him, telling him that Takaba would come back_Thus he refrained from being overly intimate with any of the women he'd been involved with.
It helped him forget_their fruity scents, their slim bodies, their delicate lips...their materialism had nearly succeeded in obscuring his past obsession with Takaba...and an engagement was in the near future.
But this box….this repulsive object threatened to ruin everything he'd built, it threatened to tear the facade of a mask off of his face and pave way for unchecked emotions.
Through his thoughts, his hands shook with fear and fury.
Part of very thing he hated most in the world was sitting on his bed before him. He wanted it gone, yet his hands edged towards the rim of the raggedy box.
He did not want to fall into Takaba's enticing pull again, he did not want to be a slave to his own emotions. He'd fought to repress the memory of the photographer, fought to erase the younger man's presence within his life.
He didn't want to know why he left, he didn't want to know why he wasn't good enough for the photographer.
And yet, he pulled the lid off of the box.
Like Takaba would have prefered it, the box was nothing special.
Lifted slightly, due to the stack of paper placed neatly below it, a raggedy letter, written in pen, greeted Asami as he opened the box.
On lined paper, in the large space above, the words "My Explanation/Apology" were written large enough that even pilot, 100,000 feet in the air, could clearly see.
Asami took the note in a trembling grip, gasping when he fully caught view of the papers below him. Unorganized and tousled, with the letter no longer covering the parchment, he realized that this box was home to an array of pictures most likely taken by Takaba himself.
Placing the note beside him and taking a seat on the bed, he grabbed a handful and began to go through them.
Takaba was either the centerpiece of each picture, or somehow, edged his way into the scenery. They were all taken in different places, different countries, different backgrounds and communities.
One was of Takaba on a bridge, behind him, the sun set upon the sea. The orange of the setting sun illuminated his figure, crowning it as if it were a halo of light. He was in casual clothes, waving, his bright as staring intently in the camera.
The gaze was piercing, and even eerie. It felt as if Takaba was in the room with Asami.
Upon further inspection, each photo Asami flipped through bore the same gaze and the same smile. Almost as if Takaba's intentions were to actually be there with Asami.
He flipped through more pictures, letting the one's he'd finished with fall either on the floor or on the bed.
Another picture caught his eye. Like in the previous photos, Takaba wore casual clothing and presented himself before foreign scenery.
In this particular photo, he sat in a wired iron chair outside of a diner. He looked at the camera, through his eyes carried a certain weariness about them. His smile was half hearted, almost forced. In his hand was a glass of iced water, and snugly around his wrist was a hospital ban.
Asami's blood ran cold, and quickly, he removed the foreboding image from his presence and delve further into the stack.
Out of the many he'd grabbed, the further he dug into the photos, the more he saw that wretched bracelet. Not to mention, Takaba grew thinner, he grew paler, his hair grew duller_yet he posed as he did previously, happy and attempting to smile.
But he looked in pain.
Gulping, Asami went into the box and grabbed more. These images were happier, though the bracelet still accompanied Takaba through his photo-journey.
Rice fields, cities, deserts, corn field….Takaba posed before them all, the sun captured his angelic beauty and presented him in the most beautiful of ways. No amount of hate could prevent the smile the crept onto Asami's face at the sight of his smiling Takaba. His happiness was contagious, and even through photos, it infected Asami so.
He stood in a large oak tree in this photo. He grabbed on to a branch for support as he smiled towards the lens, though given his pose, it looked like he was about to fall...as if his happiness was short lived. The branches obscured the sun in this photo, and the leaves shadowed it's warming gaze.
Yet Takaba smiled on. But the sun refused to touch him.
With a dry throat, Asami let the photo fall to the ground and resumed his adventure through Takaba's secret life.
The next bunch were chilling. White walls, heavy machines and IV's, Takaba sat up straight in a hospital bed, making a half hearted attempt to look happy. But his body was failing him, and despite Asami's lack of presence at the scene, every part of him agreed that after this photo was taken, Takaba collapsed of exhaustion.
Hurriedly, he threw the picture to the side, and the many more that continued to replicate the first one. The sun was gone, no longer warming Takaba's face, and instead, bright lights assaulted his body as he struggled to stay awake for the camera.
The next were horrifying.
Eyes closed and body relaxed, Takaba rested on the hospital bed, as pale as a ghost and still as nail. Had there not been an array of pictures such as this one, Asami would have believed Takaba to be dead.
He grabbed the last from the box. And to his surprise, there weren't many. Below and beside him lay a sea of photos, and now, he was to the last few.
Frail and thin, Takaba was no longer confined to his white prison in the last sequence of the photos, now with what little strength he had left, he spend it outside, letting the sun and the wind comfort him.
These were different, they captured Takaba in motion. Laying in a field with his eyes closed, sitting at the sandy beach, basking in the sun, chasing fireflies in a field, taking a picture of an insect...these last few upset Asami. It was like Takaba was leaving, like he was going away for good, and had no intention of coming back.
And he came to the last one, the saddest of them all.
He stood on a grassy cliff with his back towards the camera, looking out into a lake before him. The sun, like the first picture, was setting. It's orange glory blanked Takaba, nearly obscuring the boy's figure completely.
The light...it took him, it consumed him, beckoning him to follow it.
And that was it.
Flipping it on its back, he began scanning the image for a secrets message or anything that would explain it's presence at his penthouse. Suddenly, he remembered the letter that had lost his curiosity at the sight of the pictures, and made to retrieve it from the frenzy of photos.
After a good while, he pulled the crumpled piece of paper from the mess, and began to read it to himself.
My Explanation/Apology
Dear Asami,
If you crumble this up...then screw you, because it took a lot to write this. You're probably wondering why I left so suddenly, without a trace or anything like that. To put things in simple terms, I was diagnosed with an illness (which you don't need to know the name of, just know it's not contagious), a terminal illness, and given a set time to live.
"Why didn't you tell me?" You're probably thinking, don't worry, i've got a good explanation for that.
Like I said before, there is no cure, it's terminal. No amount of medicine can save me (it's makes it so much harder to write this when I think of that), i'm a lost cause...but, i'd rather you be angry with me then feel bad for me. I couldn't bare the pitiful look you'd give me if you found out I was ill, nor the complete 180 you'd have to do to care for me. I would've caused too much money for you (because admit it, you would've bought the most expensive medication you could think of, even if it only promised 1% of survival), I would've been a burden, and you would've had to be by my side 24/7.
You come home at three in the morning, there's no way you'd be by my bedside that long, and by no fault of yours either. You're a businessman, work is hectic, I understand. I don't expect you to drop everything for me.
Now back to the purpose, I wanted this to get to you somehow, but I'm not sure how. Hopefully it does get sent to you, but if not, maybe it's for the best. Sadly, by the time you receive this gift, I will be dead_six feet under, gone_whatever you want to call it. Just don't think I ran off with an enemy or something, I never considered that at all.
Now as for the pictures. There's over a thousand of them.
Since i'm no longer able to be here by your side, I've taken enough pictures of myself to last you a while. You always did like looking at me, so I decided to dedicate this last project to you. You liked me in my simplest forms, doing normal day things_You liked me being me, so with what little time I had left, I went around the world….just being myself.
I missed you every step of the way though, sometimes it was so hard to continue without you. I sometimes wondered how you felt without me, or if you could even function without me. But I turned on the television one day, and saw you on the news at some rich person's party, you were sitting with a lady, you guys looked really good together.
I hope she's nice to you, I hope she's really good at cooking...and if not, you've got Kirishima. How's he by the way, he and Suoh? Why am I even asking that though, not like i'll be able ot get the answer...but I guess I just wanted to make some things clear.
1. I love you, I always have and always will.
2. Move on please, but be wise about it.
3. Whenever you feel sad or lonely, take a look at my pictures, know i'm with you always. That's why i'm smiling, I know it makes you happy...so just take a quick glance at them.
4. I'm so sorry for doing this to you, I just had to Asami, and I hope you understand. It's not because I hate you or anything, it's because it has to be done. But I want you to know why I left.
And it looks like that's all I have to say, at least all I can put on paper. They say pictures speak louder than words, so I hope you can get my message. And just incase you can't, then i'll just tell you now, because as intelligent as you are , Mr. Asami, you seem to overlook the most obvious of things.
I love you, and never forget it.
Love,
Takaba Akihito
P.S: You're still an asshole, but you're my asshole. But seriously, if you wanna get the girls, then tone down a bit. :P Love you Asami!
Takaba's attempted humor had done nothing to ease Asami's tingling nerves...in fact, it made him sick to his stomach. Things he didn't say and things he couldn't say swarmed in his head like bees in an angry bee hive. He stood, or at least tried to, and collapsed on his bed, hardly able to sit up.
His mask was fading, his emotions were beginning to pour out.
Grief hit him like a car to a brick wall, and all at once, he'd felt the pain associated with the gloomy emotion.
He hadn't even heard the creak of the door, symbolizing someone had entered. It wasn't until his intruder cleared his throat, did Asami turn to notice him.
"Kirishima…" Asami acknowledged the man with a soft and distant voice, almost as if he wasn't there, "Who sent this."
Only when Takaba had initially left, did Kirishima see his boss so absorbed in grief and confusion, however, this was different. He was falling too fast.
Kirishima had known Asami for ages, thus he knew they type of person his boss was. So why not jump to conclusions, why not send his men out at the mere evidence of Takaba Akihito?
"A small group people,Takaba's friends I believe. They were young," he silenced his thoughts and remained calm, providing Asami with the information he needed.
"Find them, and bring them to me," despite his defeated posture, his voice was stern and serious, leaving room for any kind of failure.
Obedient as always, Kirishima inclined his head and left.
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I hope you liked this! Please review, it'll make me happy! This is it, just a one-shot. The ending is up to you guys. I initially wanted to post this earlier in the week, but I got too caught up in school work. Oh, I did Mock Trial this year, it was my first time, though we didn't advance, I thought we did well. I needed to post something like this to get my mind off of life and stuff, so tell me what you think. The summary for this was hard to come up with, so I fear it will not get the attention that I hope it would get. But anyway, hope you enjoyed it, have a nice weekend, and God bless!