Disclaimer: Kazuki Takahashi's creations. My dream land. Lalala….
Notes: First draft is scary, but hopefully not too bad. I'll probably come back and revise it later, but in the case that I don't, I figured I'd pose it while I still wanted to.
Beg
Haydn Pachelbel
"…How?" Ryou had thought he would have been screaming that—he felt as if he were screaming inside. But his voice tapered off before he'd even formed the word, and all that was heard was a soft, incredulous murmur.
A smirk, bemused and painted dark with superiority. "Did you doubt me?"
His eyes widened, just slightly, as he shook his head. "But…" he was helpless to stem his curiosity. That's all his expression was now; curiosity. "…how?"
A hand seems to brush his cheek. The hand is so familiar, so much like his own—except that his are corporeal.
"I always come back." Dark brown eyes, hardened with experiences and determination, take on an even sharper edge. "Nothing can take me from what is mine." And in the next second, there's a shrug and a smile to soften the mood of the room.
Ryou is far too used to such things to be worried now. The worst is over—anything worse than what they've been through will just be amusing.
… … …
His father is going to remarry. The woman has three children, all of them younger than Ryou…two of them are considerably younger. She doesn't want him to influence them.
His father, it seems, has confided to her about the stresses of having a son who, when he isn't comatose, is involved in some noticeable but untraceable way to bizarre murders and disappearances.
Ryou doesn't argue when his father asks him to stay in Japan, and visit for birthdays and maybe a few times during the year besides. But his father and step-family live in England…they all know that there is little chance Ryou will make the trip even once a year.
When they hang up, Ryou carefully places the wedding invitation back in its spotless envelope and sets it on the counter. His hand hovers over it once, retreats; twice, and then he picks it up again.
His hand is shaking almost imperceptibly as he throws it away. His hands are still shaking when he fishes it back out again.
When he realizes he's being watched, he starts to laugh, at first miserably and then suddenly jovially. He doesn't retrieve the invitation out of the garbage again.
It isn't worse than what they've already been through, but he finds it funny just the same.
… … …
There isn't anything remarkable about the weather on Monday. It is typically clear for this time of year, and it is early enough in the day that it's just barely cold enough for a jacket. The leaves of the trees outside are that odd, dusky green color they take on just before they flash orange and red and yellow, and die.
Ryou stands outside the grounds of Domino High and watches, his hands jammed into his pockets, toying with an old candy wrapper. The school is quiet—it isn't yet noon, and classes are in session.
It isn't going to be easy to leave them; but then, that's the reason he isn't going to wait for them to get out of class. They are less likely to notice his absence if he just disappears than if he brings their attention to it with a half-hearted good-bye.
He's waiting for a bell to ring when a tiny glimmer of warmth brushes against his cheek. The chill following immediately after makes him blink rapidly at chill-tears, and he turns away to clear them.
"Yes?" he asks, his voice steady. The touch was meant to grab his attention, and he quickly gives it.
"You want to do this?" There's skepticism there, but Ryou can hear the concern underneath it as well.
He looks up at the school, but it's a little blurred. When his vision is sharp and clear, he stares at the tan bricks of the building, the windows of each classroom, and isn't sure anymore.
The tree shivers as the spirit brushes under its leaves.
Ryou looks at the movement, and then at the smaller figure.
For a moment, it seems he sees her clearer than the school building. Her eyes are dark brown, where his are blue; her hair is winter-black, very much unlike his. But her lips, and her fingers, and the slim not-quite definition of her muscles….
And as he stares at her, the leaves above them shiver again, by no doing of her. As he stares at her, he knows…and that is enough. That is everything.
He opens his mouth to say what he knows, gods, what he knows now…but he stops himself. Those words aren't enough. Not for her. He answers her question instead.
"Yes." His voice is a hoarse whisper. "Yes, Amane."
She smiles, and takes his hand. There is the warmth-then-cold again, and the sensation is just shy of painful, but Ryou ignores it. Unable to look away from her, he knows that he can ignore it for eternity, for her.
"Let's go." She tilts her head to indicate the road, and he manages to look away.
As they walk, he still knows, and for the first time in months he smiles an honest smile She is his, and he has always been hers…it could never be any other way.
98
