Prologue: Two people meet and someday part...
Two people meet and someday part.
They could be the best of friends,
The most passionate of lovers
The bitterest of enemies,
Or even complete strangers.
Three years had passed.
Three years with no laughter to fill the empty rooms. No jokes, no scoldings, no horse voice calling his name to fill the vacant air. It had been three years since he had last seen his smile, three years since he had last touched his skin, three years since he had held him in his arms just to feel his warmth and say 'I love you'. It had been three years since he passed, leaving him alone in the world with only memories that were as clear as the crystal that hung from stings on the ceiling, sparkling in the sunlight. They were memories that he cherished, clung to desperately, even though they tortured him as brightly flashing lights that showed that as the years they passed together continued to move forward, the other aged and grew older, weaker, while he remained strong and healthy in his body made by human hands, forever perfect.
Three years had passed since Aoba Seragaki died in his sleep at the age of seventy eight, over fifty years after their first official meeting in front of Junk Shop Heibon, and though Clear had passed through those times as if not a day had passed, clinging to untainted memories with not even a gray hair to show for it, nothing could heal the gaping hole the blunette had left in the white haired man's metal and beat-less heart. It made the air he breathed cold and agonizing to take in, even though there was nothing wrong with him. It made him wish with everything he had that, somehow, he could've aged and died with Aoba-san. He had experienced death once, and came back with no fear of it, but no desire to fall into its clutches again either. If he died, then death would separate them and that would be the end of it. However, if he ever had the chance, he would've done anything to reach death just as long as it was with Aoba.
Yet Clear was bound by the limits of a machine, and death had separated them anyway, just as they both knew it would. And because he was a man made thing, Clear knew there would be no meaning in him following suit. Death for a human and death for a machine were two different things. Clear, when he died, would simply seize to exist.
Even so...
"I thought of things like destroying myself when you passed but...when I touched you today, I couldn't think of anything else.I don't care about it right now. I want to spend every minute and every second with you."
Those had been Clear's words, heartfelt and honestly spoken in front of that mirror in his old room on the day he returned to Aoba after a year. They make his chest ache now, after all these years.
"After I die, you have to keep living on. The only thing that'll make you stop is if you fall asleep or destroy yourself. I don't want to break you when I die and you never know if you'll wake up again if you fall asleep."
Aoba-san...
The name stays on his tongue as Clear lets out a soft breath and stands from his chair.
Aoba-san, it's hard. I don't want to live in a world without you. It hurts to breathe without you here, Aoba-san.
Aoba-san, I want to be with you forever.
Three years have passed since Aoba Seragaki died in his sleep, wrapped in Clear's arms. For three years, Clear had been alone with only memories in the house that they shared. But no more. Slipping on his coat -a newer one tinted lightly blue to replace the one that had worn out- and his shoes, Clear grabs his umbrella that hangs on a hook by the front door, pausing only to lightly touch a framed photograph on a shelf along the wall. A smiling man in his late thirties looks up at him.
"I'm leaving now, Aoba-san."
Removing his hand, Clear opens the front door and steps outside. The sound of an umbrella popping lightly open can be heard as the front door closes shut.
And in the house that had not heard laughter in three years, the empty, vacant air was filled only with the sound of rain tapping on the windows.
Author's NOte~
So I was watching Clear's good end in Re:connect and succumbed to the feels of my DMMd ship. Originally, this was supposed to be a pre-storyline fic, but I changed it up to make it shorter. It now takes place three years after Aoba's death. The quotes in bold from above can be found in Re:connect. I dont know if I'll be able to finish this one, since I have no motivation to write, but I'll do my best.
I dont own DMMd or its characters, just my OCs that have yet to make an appearance.
Until next update
~tcf
