Title: Memento Mori
Author: Endless
Genre: Drama/Tragedy
Pairing: KaiShin
Rating: T
Summary: You know it'll only be a matter of time until you lose yourself. KaiShin.
-o-o-o-o-o-
-Vita incerta, mors certissima.
-o-o-o-o-o-
You hear her words now, soft and lilting. Smooth and syrupy like honey, murmured in a seductive purr. Plum-colored hair ripples in the breeze as she looks at you, fixes her piercing eyes into yours. You shiver involuntarily, but not from fear.
"He dies, you die," she whispers. "He falls, you fall."
A smile stretches over her face when she catches a glimpse of your perplexed expression. "You will live until a great age," she adds. "You will be old and you will be strong. But you will be dead."
You've always wondered the meaning behind those words. But now...now you know.
Now you know that Akako was right.
-o-o-o-o-o-
You see yourself in the mirror, clad in your white, pristine glory. In a hushed sigh, your cape rustles across your back, reminiscent of the breezes it has basked in, of the moon rays that have pooled across its surface.
You find your eyes in the mirror. Without a monocle guarding your eyes, without the brim of a hat providing shadows, the violet orbs are easily read. Vulnerable. Weak. Transparent.
You used to be able to look at your reflection and unwrap Kuroba Kaito from underneath all of the masks, all of the layers you have coated the depths under. It hadn't been hard to detect the youthful man with laughing eyes, the prankster, the teenager, the arrogant fun-loving thief.
You examine your eyes closely, your face pressing against the cool glass. It's a simple action, like one a child would make. Locks of messy curls kiss the mirror, falling forward in a tumble.
You search for the child that you've always caught sight of before.
He isn't there any more.
All you see is dullness in your hard, cold eyes. Death.
Something like pain, numbed to the bluntest of edges.
You can feel it now, gnawing and nibbling at the epitome, the very center of all that makes Kuroba Kaito. It clips your wings slowly, letting the dove feathers plummet downwards.
And you wait until the moment you finally fade, until you sink into the empty, bottomless pits of madness.
-o-o-o-o-o-
The next day, you walk into school. You're your usual cheery self - a smile lighting your face, a grin splitting from ear to ear.
You greet your schoolmates with your mindless prattle, performing a pranks for their amusement.
Your mask is almost perfect. Almost. Aoko notices the barely perceptible slips, the muted winces of anguish. You're pretty sure that Akako sees as well - and even Hakuba.
But no one else watches you as closely.
When the three approach you later, filled with questions, with vague notions of what might be troubling you, you merely shake your head. You smile a smile that isn't real. You laugh a laugh that never will be real again. It appeases Aoko by the slightest of increments - but not Hakuba, not Akako.
When you turn your back to walk away, all you want to do is break down and finally release the tears that prickle at the edges of your eyelids. You want to cling to the person who mattered the most.
He isn't there - and never will be.
At home, you lock yourself into your room, the doors bolted, the windows shuttered. You swallow a choked sob that burns into your chest. You cradle your head in your hands as you huddle in a dark corner.
But you won't cry.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Your mother detects your sudden change in attitude next. Maybe your expression alerts her - eyes closed, dreaming of sea-blue eyes and a smirk - and the quietness that surrounds your presence.
She slides over next to you on the couch, shifting to brush against you. "Nana korobi, ya oki," she whispers, reminding you the oft spoken words of your father.
The corners of your mouth curl upwards in a silent smile, and you reassure her that you'll be fine. She just sighs, and knows that there's something wrong - something that hurts you more than ever. But she believes you'll get over it, get better, over time.
She's wrong. You have fallen too many times, and you cannot get up. You have already lost.
As she leaves the room, the door shuts with a silent click, and you are alone once more.
-o-o-o-o-o-
He dies, you die.
He falls, you fall.
You die...we all die.
You fall...we all fall.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Latin Translations:
Memento Mori: Remember you will die.
Vita incerta, mors certissima: The most certain thing in life is death.
Japanese Translations:
Nana korobi, ya oki: Fall down seven times, get up eight.
A/N: Somewhat written in the style used by Summer Laura in her House fic Chaos.