Feels. Otp feels wouldn't leave me alone so I had no choice.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.
Disrepair
The snow crunched under his boots.
It was cold. Awfully cold. N could confirm the frigid temperature from how his Zoroark beside him had shivered- though it had been barely noticeable- despite the Zoroark's thick, dark coat covering almost every inch of his body.
And then Zoroark visibly shuddered.
He tightened the scarf around his neck.
Both persisted and continued on, unrelenting, almost seeming to march just to fight against the numbness that were seeping through their skin, slowly, bit by bit, and into their bones.
The trees beside the narrow path they walked on were bared of any leaves and instead, clumps of white were piling on top of the branches that spread upwards, as if reaching towards the ashen sky.
Silence, he noticed, hung in the air and only their footfalls resounded throughout the area. Still, his Zoroark's footsteps were cushioned by the snow, considerably quieting them.
But snow crunched under his boots.
At least, he thought, there was noise. The surrounding stillness was threatening to engulf them and too much silence was never good these days.
The place they were heading to was supposedly easy enough to see but the consistently falling white specks was obscuring his sight. Nature itself was seemingly opposed to his presence and the coil around his heart constricted. Unconsciously, his palm was pressed on top of his heart, the action gaining him a concerned look from his friend.
For a moment, it was as though he was completely submerged under water and he was drowning.
Then, he could breathe again and he inhaled as deeply as he could, converting the air in his lungs into steel to harden his resolve, leaving no hesitation.
So N stepped forward.
Farewells taste bitter on his tongue.
And he mourns.
For it rolls out far too easily, far too sweetly.
As the mind whispers of second chances.
(Pitiful self-assuring lies.)
N was stiff, almost as if paralyzed.
He gulped but his throat still felt dry and scratchy and his exhales are hitched, hot—
His Zoroark nudged him and he flinched, snapping back into reality, taking a single step back. He saw the worried but encouraging eyes of his friend and some tension evaporates from his tired muscles and joints.
But the lump in his throat stayed, unmoving and not budging. His jaw was clamped shut because he knew the moment it opens, everything would come pouring out like spilled water.
His eyes shifted to his boots. The dark colour of the footwear was contrasting nicely against the snow.
(Ah, he is avoiding the inevitable again.)
N could feel her solid, unwavering stare. She was waiting patiently, perhaps, with a soft, playful smile on her lips and her blue eyes would perfectly reflect her mischievous, cheerful personality.
Winter had not affected her too much, it seemed.
This time, he licked his chapped, cracked lips in final preparation and reassurance.
He spoke and it came out more forcibly than he wanted to.
N grimaced, digging his fingers into his glove-covered palms.
Zoroark stood silently by his side.
The gravestone did not reply.
"Touko."
Nothing.
"Touko, I- I'm sorry for being late."
Nothing.
"I'm sorry… for everything."
Again, nothing answered him but a chill as a snowflake drifted down and melted on his pale cheek, like a fleeting kiss.
He took it as her greeting.
There was something about chocolates and her.
N knew that.
He had never wanted to bring flowers. Simply because bringing flowers to graves was an official declaration and acknowledgement that the person was gone, cold, lifeless, dead.
So he brought chocolates instead.
She had always loved the white ones.
(Just like her. White, untouched, pure but also like the stupid, obstructing snow that reminds him too much of glazed eyes, blue lips, last breaths-)
He crouched down and gently, neatly placed the sweets on the ground, all the while refusing to meet the headstone because he is undeserving.
It's his fault.
His.
(If only, if only, if only he had been there with her-)
And N couldn't hold his sobs any longer.
His sorrows echoed resonantly through the cemetery and the tears flowed- one, two, three- down his cheeks, his chin, dripping down to the frozen soil below.
"N, you're being such a crybaby. Stop it, okay?"
He shook his head.
"Ugh. N, come on! Don't- Don't be sad. It's better to see you smile. Will you do that for me?"
He didn't reply.
"Please?"
But he stayed silent.
She huffed, pouting at his lack of response.
N looked up, meeting her blue eyes for the first time. He tried a smile but he knew it came out more crooked and insincere, not the one she really wanted.
But Touko's face brightened- always mirroring the sun- and the half-hearted upturn of his lips morphed to be something more genuine.
Then, she gave him a sad smile, waving what tasted like a final goodbye and she slowly evaporated away.
He reached out, eyes wide with desperation and raw distress because no, this time surely, he won't fail-
Yet she faded, his fingers touching nothing.
The only one who had touched his heart was now locked up under the ground, wrapped in eternal slumber.
There was a hole in his chest, gaping, bleeding.
And it would never close.
Just like how she would never return.
I thrive in angst.
I also live for complicated pairings.
Okay, so I didn't want it to go too far so I didn't explain how she died and all. Yeah, so hoped you enjoyed it even though it was short.
(I will update my chaptered story okay. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.)
