Title: What you can't fix.

Pairing: Kamijou Touma/Accelerator (Ippou Tsukou).

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, the story is.

Summary: In which Kamijou and Accelerator are together.

[=]

In a cold white room sat a small child, fiddling with the remnants of a small wind chime.

'What are you doing?'

Someone asked him, probably another researcher that came to bother him.

'Fixing this. Just a bit more.'

He paid them no heed, focusing on the small broken thing on his hands.

'Why do you bother? It's no good anymore.'

That person said and the boy tried desperately to ignored that voice. It was pointing out what he feared the most. He wiped the sweat from his face and shook his head stubbornly. He could do it. He must do this, because this was theirs.

His parents' last gift for him.

A small wind chime made of glass. So small and fragile.

He broke it accidentally. He should have paid attention when he knocked over the bookshelf using his power.

The wind chime was never hanged because in the room he stayed, there was no window. It was like staying in a prison with four walls surrounding him, the feeling always made him feel so claustrophobic. He dreamed, sometimes, all the times, of the day he would get out of here and live in a house with windows to hang the small treasure of his. And he would be able to hear its sound, so clear in the wind just like he had always imagined it to be.

But how could his dream come true if the wind chime was already broken?

Clutching the small broken glasses, he clumsily tried to mend them together. His small little fingers were cut, jabbed by smaller pieces and bleeding on the cold white floor. He didn't care. The pain was bearable, what mattered was this small chime.

The fragments laid still not showing any signs of restoration.

'Throw it away, you are hurting yourself. It's broken.'

That person said again.

'I can do it. I can fix it.'

The boy said but the words came out trembling even to his ears. He was denying the truth. Because it hurt to admit that he couldn't do anything about his little bell chime made out of glass anymore. It hurt just to admit that he was powerless to mend what was precious to him.

'Give up already.'

That person spoke again and this time he shrieked.

'Shut up!'

His control was slipping and he wasn't even aware that he was losing it. Blood dripped from his injured fingertips, distilling onto the ground followed by his small hiccups. He wouldn't cry, he didn't want to cry but his eyes were suddenly welling up and there was this pain inside his chest.

It hurt.

'I can find you a new one.'

The boy looked up from the cold white floor and found himself staring at a familiar face. His surroundings suddenly changed from the cold white room to a small messy apartment which he knew well but he couldn't quite recall having been here before.

'I don't want a new one.'

The glass fragments were gone and his hands was no longer bleeding but the phantom of the pain was there. The white hair boy said as he glared coldly at the person standing in front of him.

'Was it something important to you?'

'No.'

The lie came out. In front of him, the pale boy didn't want to show any weakness.

'Then why did you hold onto it? Look, you are hurt.'

It was true, they were bleeding once again and he could feel the blood trickling down, drop by drop.

'Because my mother and father gave me this. It was their last gift for me.'

He didn't lie.

'Where are they now?'

The other boy asked.

'I never saw them again. They left me.'

They never came back for him.

'Then why did you keep that?'

It was a reminder, something for him to keep hoping that they would come back one day. Still, the boy said nothing.

'Even when it hurt, you didn't want to let go?'

That was right, they wouldn't come back. They couldn't, not anymore.

He clenched his hands tighter. It was foolish to keep hoping for the impossible to happen. Even when the truth was presented before him, he just couldn't make himself to believe it.

'Then let me bear it with you.'

A warm hand touched his cold one and pried the fingers open. Gently, the other boy plucked out the shards on the injured palm and cut his own hand with them before the white hair boy could protest. Taking his pale hands in his newly bleeding one, the boy with spiky hair smiled.

'You don't have to endure this all by yourself anymore.'

Small noises escaped his lips and before he knew it, he was crying into the other boy's chest. Their hands were still bleeding but entertwined tightly together.

'...cel...'

'Accel...'

'Accelerator.'

Someone's voice was calling out for him, so warm and so familiar, pulling him back to the reality he lived in. Groggily, a pair of blood red eyes cracked open, only to be met by electric blue ones. Shifting his gaze around, he felt a wave of relief upon realizing that he was in a certain hero's apartment.

'You okay?'

His hand was touching the pale boy's shoulder, gently and his voice spoke with genuine concern.

That's right, the pale boy remembered, this is home.

Wordlessly, he tackled the dark hair boy to the bed and hugged him tightly with his hands. They weren't injured nor hurt. This was real.

'Uhm, Accel-san? Are you sick or something?'

'Shut up punk. Or I'll kill you.'

The pale boy inhaled the scent of the other boy as he snuggled a bit closer. Warm, so warm. A total contrast to the ever-presenting coldness in the institute.

Comforting.

'Accel-san?'

'Mm?'

'I was just thinking, is there anything that you want? I never had a chance to buy you anything right?'

'I don't want anything from you. This,' he pulled back a little to look at the other in the eyes, 'is enough.'

'Ah, not that. I mean something that caught your attention or something that you want to have.'

'...chime.'

'What is it?'

'A wind chime is fine.'

'Wind chime?'

'Got a problem with that?'

The other boy shook his head.

'Ah, no. It's just... it's strange. Not in a bad way though, that you'd want a wind chime as a gift from me.'

'It's not like it's for me. But I want to hang it here, on your window.'

'Hmm? Why?'

'I felt like it.'

'Man, you really are strange.'

The dark hair boy sat up with the pale boy still clinging to him. Circling his arms around the boy, he briefly wondered about how thin he was. It was almost unhealthy.

'Kamijou.'

The white boy called out.

'Huh?'

A kiss was pressed on the dark hair boy's lips. Soft and hesitant before the other pulled away, soft pink hue dusting his cheeks as he mumbled in a low tone.

'Thank you.'

Having been caught off guard, the boy was surprised, unsure of what to do. Sighing to himself, he leaned down to kiss the pale boy's cheek, a small smile ghosting over his handsome face.

'Don't mention it.'

[=]

Hiya, I did this in a whim but hopefully I can follow this until the end.