A/N: My show's starting soon, but people never usually write many Yamino fictions so I think it can wait. This is a little adaptation so I hope you people don't mind. Did I mention this was my first Mythyical Detective Loki fiction?
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Mythical Detective Loki
Summary: Yamino drifts through the day he commemorates as the day he was cast into the ocean.
Hidden Feelings
We were each given a shape when we were born.
And in our forms we try to live to keep it together somehow…
…till we should finally melt away.
Quoted from Wild Adapter Manga book 2
It's so dark here, I'm so lonely.
The darkness closes in on him.
He opens his mouth to scream but all that comes out is a hiss.
He tries to run but ends up slithering.
He tries to escape from the dreaded darkness ever threatening to swallow him up.
He is afraid.
As the darkness begins to engulf him, he feels the immense pain rocketing through him.
The tears threaten to fall, but are quickly washed away by the water that begins to envelope him.
He cannot call out.
All sounds are muffled by the waves and the gallons of water surrounding him.
He curls up and weeps more salty liquid into the already salty sea water.
He perks up as he hears a voice.
Father?
He calls out.
No one replies.
He is alone.
He will forever be alone.
Forever.
He lets loose a wordless scream.
A green haired man suddenly sits up in his bed.
He is panting.
Sweat-slicked, he notes the tiny gleam of light streaming through the drawn maroon curtains, and stands to draw the curtains.
He realizes that it is only the small hint of light from the dim street lamps just outside.
He checks his watch.
It is 3a.m.
He does not wish to go back to sleep.
He does not wish to relive the nightmare of being cast into the ocean once more.
The pain is indescribable and his screams will not be heard.
He rubs his face, only to find that he has been crying.
He squints, and realizes that he is not wearing his spectacles.
As he reaches for them on their usual place on his bedside table, it is almost as if he cannot feel his hands.
He sees nothing.
Nothing picked up his glasses.
Yet, it was as if his eyesight had adjusted by itself.
He panics.
He stares down and he can't seem to see his feet.
He opens his mouth to let loose an exclamation of surprise.
He hisses.
This time he really does scream.
It is not a hiss though.
A figure is seen dropping into a crouch.
Sobs fill the night.
He makes sure they are not loud enough to wake Loki-sama though.
He lets his hands cover his face.
He curls into a fetal position.
He calms himself with thoughts that it was only a mere illusion.
The rug is warm but in his pajamas, the night air continues to rush past him in cooling brushes.
He shivers ever so slightly.
He does not feel like moving.
He also does not want to drift back into the sleep where he dreams things that threaten to disallow him from waking ever again.
He does not want to bother Nii-san.
He does not want to bother Loki-sama.
He definitely does not want to bother Hel-nee-san.
He absolutely positively does not want to bother anyone else.
It hurts.
He does not know what hurts but it seems as though everything does.
He has to move, but he cannot.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he manages to lift himself from his fetal position on the carpeted ground and pick up his glasses and place them onto his nose.
He checks his calendar.
A frown spends across his pale face.
It is that day.
No wonder he was shivering and having these nightmares.
With trembling hands, he fiddles with the door knob and makes his way across the hallway into the bathroom.
He turns the heater to full blast and quietly adjusts to the boiling hot water pattering onto his pale skin from the shower.
It feels like someone was throwing hot pebbles at him but it felt good at the same time.
He let a few more tears slide down his face and mingle with the bath water.
He leaned against the shower door and let himself slide down to sit on the floor.
He stayed like that for 50 minutes.
For fifty long minutes, he sat there and kept his mind blank while being naked in a running hot shower.
The mist created a huge cloud of fog in the surrounding air.
He didn't notice.
Such details were but trifle miniscule things in his life.
Soon, however, the hot water ran out.
The man got up and heaved a long weary sigh.
He did not bother to note why the surroundings had gotten so foggy.
He stepped out of the bathroom and wrapped himself with towel after towel.
The feeling of being a pork bun plagued him but he pushed it out with tired sighs.
Perhaps he would do housework today.
Maybe fix a few things, order a few thousand things from the catalogue.
Ordering mail-order stuff always made him feel better.
Today, he wondered if it would have any effect.
He hugged himself.
It was then that he realized his hair hadn't been tied up yet.
He decided to wait until it dried.
Thus, clothed only in warm fluffy towels, Yamino proceeded to his room to try and decided what to do that would not evoke painful memories on the day he was cast into the ocean.
A/N: Man, that sure was an anti-climax, well; I'm working on Chapter 2. Oh my, did I just say chapter two? My attention span must be growing! Please review.