A/N: I suppose there really is a first for everything. As such, this story just happens to be my first SK fic as well as my first shounen-ai attempt in any category. Before I had never actively advocated yaoi though I never opposed it either, but after discovering the HoroRen pairing and the wealth of great fanfics available on the topic, I have been converted. If anyone is interested, the site AZIMANIACS has some great HoroRen fanart, CG-ed to perfection.
I must confess that I actually watch the American version of Shaman King, though I have read a few volumes of the manga (and once I figure out how IRC works, I'll be able to get the others. In this regard I'd appreciate any help you can give me because when it comes to computers I'm still stuck in the Stone Age…). However, since Horohoro is just an awesome name I had to base the fic on the Japanese version. Therefore, sorry if any of the facts are inaccurate, and as for the little tweaks in conversation, I snagged what I could off those fanfics by people who actually watched the Japanese version, so if I used something like "Ainu-baka" or "bocchama" wrong, please be kind enough to tell me so that I can change it. Nobody's perfect, after all.
Oh yeah, one last note: whenever you see a number in the middle of the text, it's not a typo; it's a reference to a footnote that'll be at the end of the chapter. If the footnote's missing, tell me so that I can put it up; chances are I'll forget at least once. It's just the way I am, sorry. I would also not recommend skipping the footnotes; I did a lot of research into the Ainu culture for this story and I'd like some appreciation for my effort.
As always, reviews are welcome and flames are ignored.
Thanks to all the other HoroRen writers who inspired me to write a story of my own. Kudos to all of you for great fics!
If I forgot anything in this A/N (the A/N's in the first chapters of all my stories are always super-long), I'll put it in a future one.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King.
Rescue Me
BEGIN
The sun was setting, washing the sky a brilliant blood-red, a few wisps of smoky cloud chasing each other across the fading horizon, just as always. And at his bedroom window he sat, peering through the clear glass at the single winding road snaking into the melting light, passing into shadow even as the sky darkened and twilight settled in. Just as always.
Twenty-two-year-old Usui Horokeu swallowed hard while running a careless hand backward through his sky-blue hair. He was tall and lean almost to the point of emaciation due to the simple life he had chosen to lead these past four tumultous years. He wore a simple white T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, and the only hint of his Ainu background was the swirling design intricately sewn into the matanpushi1 he had secured around his forehead so as to keep his bangs out of his eyes.
The door opened with a slight creak but Horohoro did not turn for he already knew who it was. Young Usui Pilika stood quietly at the threshold for a few moments, observing her brother with silent respect. It was not until the last of the reflected sunlight had faded from Horohoro's midnight-black eyes that she spoke. "It's been four years," she said in a soft voice that was almost toneless. "Maybe you should just come home."
Horohoro sighed, having had this conversation before. "He's coming back," he said. "I can feel it. Any moment now, he'll be here."
Pilika wished again as on so many other nights that she could swallow her next words, but they would not be new to her brother either. "He never promised anything," she whispered. "He hasn't written or called or anything. How do we even know if he's alive?"
His reply was immediate, almost automatic. "Because he is," Horohoro said, turning to look straight at his little sister. Almost instinctively she averted her gaze from his resolute black eyes. "Because if anyone can survive this war," he continued in a firm voice, "it's Tao Ren."
Pilika refused to meet his gaze and instead became absorbed in the floorboards at her feet. She felt the heat sting her eyes as she recalled the memories, but quickly suppressed her tears as she had always done as she finally looked up. "I…" She swallowed hard. "I hope you're right, Oniichan. For your sake as well as his." She turned slowly and walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Horohoro watched her go before turning back to the window. The road was now completely lost in the darkness that was night. Horohoro sighed. Ren would not be returning tonight.
He slid off the bedstead on which he had been precariously balanced and sank onto the mattress, springs groaning under his weight, however light he was. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to sink almost below his knees as he remembered.
1 A matanpushi is an embroidered headband that in old times was worn by Ainu men. In the modern day, only women wear matanpushi. (A/N: No, Horohoro is not a woman.)
