Keep walking away from me
By Kia
The sound
of the wind rustling in the trees. Golden leaves falling to the ground. The
voice of a bird, coming from far away. The sound of the cars in the streets.
Echoes, carried away by the wind.
Two
figures, standing by the open window. The golden light of an autumn sunset. The
ticking of a clock.
A voice,
ringing through the dim twilight:
"Sorry. I can't."
The sound
of a heart breaking.
-----
Rain
falling from the sky. Forming little pools of water that would be gone after a
few hours of sunshine, leaving only the dirt and fallen leaves, to be soon
stomped away by the footsteps of passing people.
People like
the young boy that was now walking though the heavy shower, feeling the water
pouring down on him, looking for a shelter when he knew there was none.
Maybe he
would find a tree to hide under or even something like a roof, but even then,
he knew, the rain would continue to fall down on him, even when the sun began
to shine again.
His own
rain fell for so long now, and he had yet to find his shelter.
Maybe he
had already given up his search for it. There was no way for him to ever feel
dry again, after all.
Some of the
fallen leaver were dragged away by the water, floating down the streets. Just
like his life, he thought. Just like the people that kept walking away from
him, without really getting away but without ever turning around either. That were
leaving him alone in the crowd.
He sighed
and sat down on a large stone on the side of the street. His soaked blond hair
hung in his face as he gazed down the road he'd been walking onto.
He didn't
really mind the rain, in fact it was giving him some kind of comfort to know
that he was not the only one it was falling onto. He hoped it would fall just a
little longer. He wanted it to fall down like this forever.
He wanted
the whole world to know how it felt to
be in the rain. He wanted to cry. He wanted to jump off a bridge.
He closed
his eyes, his arms resting on his knees. The rain continued to fall down on
him.
The rain
fell softly onto his umbrella. It was a lot of rain but there was no wind, not
even the slightest breeze. He liked this kind of weather.
The sky was
grey and dark. He supposed that it was already evening, but it had been like
this the whole day and he had been walking around in the city for some time
now. He knew he should go back, before his parents started to worry about him.
He would. Soon. He just wanted to follow this small road a little longer.
The he
spotted him, a familiar blond boy, sitting a few meters away on a stone, his
head down and his hair hanging in his face, looking kinda small, and vunerable.
He probably hadn't even noticed him yet.
The boy
stopped on his way, looking an the blond for a long time in silence. Then he
called out his name.
The blond
opened his eyes when he heard someone calling his name. But he didn't turn his
head. He hadn't expected anyone to be out in this rain. He hadn't expected
anyone to talk to him.
After a few
seconds, he finally looked up to gaze at the other boy in silence.
Ken,
standing there, an umbrella over his head, looking somehow a little helpless.
As if he didn't knew what to say.
The rain
was getting stronger. The blond still said nothing. Maybe he should just walk
away, he thought. Just walk away like everyone else.
Then, Ken
spoke.
"Everyone
is looking for you." he said. He got no reply. The rain continued to fall.
"We're
worried about you." There was no judging in his voice, the blond noticed. It
even sounded a little… sad? He almost smiled at his foolish thought and shook
his head slightly. Looking away again. He couldn't say anything. Couldn't say
anything.
Suddenly
the rain stopped. He looked up and saw Ken standing beside him, holding the
umbrella over his head. Getting wet himself. He pushed it away.
"Can't get
any more wet." he finally said and stood up. Ken looked at him.
"You should
go home." he said. "you've been away for two days. Have you been in this rain
all day?"
The blond
stared at the ground in silence, the nodded.
"I didn't
feel like going home." he sighed and then he lifted his eyes and looked up to
the sky. Grey clouds. A grey world.
"I like
this weather, anyway."
Ken stared
at him. He said nothing. Then, he also turned his face toward the sky. Letting
the rain fall on his face.
"Me too."
Yamato
smiled. He liked Ken. Really like him. He wanted to talk to him. To trust him.
He knew he couldn't. Just couldn't.
It was getting
darker.
He should
really hurry home now. Yamato should really hurry home now. Ken saw him
standing in the rain, looking so fragile, so lost. His skin even paler than
usual, dark rings under his eyes. As if he hadn't slept in days. He probably
hadn't.
"Why didn't
you tell anyone?" Ken finally asked. "If something is hurting you so much you
have to run away like this, then…" he paused, searching for the right words.
When he couldn't find them, he wispered: "…you should share your pain with
someone else. I'm sure… Taichi would listen." It wasn't what he really wanted
to say. Ken closed his eyes for a second. He was hurt too.
Yamato
chuckled and looked at Ken as if he was going to cry. Then, he gazed up at the
sky again.
"I did." he
said. "I told him, about one year ago." He gave the boy a hoarse laugh. "He
said he wouldn't mind and that it wouldn't change anything and then avoided me
as much as possible from that day on."
Ken didn't
say anything. Couldn't say anything.
Finally, he
breathed:
"You're in
love with him." Again, he got no reply. He didn't need one. He knew he was right.
He somehow
wanted to cry. He wanted to take Yamato in his arms. He wanted to punch Taichi
in the face for hurting this angel so much.
He didn't
move. Didn't speak.
After a few
minutes of silence Yamato turned towards him. Ken could see the tears in his
eyes, refusing to fall, could feel the same tears in his own eyes.
He had
abadoned his umbrella. It was lying in the grass to his feet. Now the rain was
falling on both of them.
Then Yamato
spoke:
"Please,"
he wispered, not looking at Ken. "Go away. I'd rather be alone now."
Ken just
stared at him in silence, and after a wile he nodded slowly and walked away,
leaving his umbrella lying in the rain.
Yamato
tried not to look after him, as he walked away, slowly, hesitant, and failed.
He felt his broken heart pounding desperately in his chest and just wanted it
to stop as he watched the other boy disappear in the growing darkness.
'Please.'
he thought. 'Just keep walking away from me. Please don't turn around. Don't
make me think you'd care.'
He never
really felt like being a part of a group. He didn't seem to fit in, to be 'one
of them'. Taichi was the only one he ever trusted, ever saw as a real friend,
and he had lost him in one thoughtless moment, when this tension inside of him
became more then he could bear. Now it hurt to be near him, to feel his
disgust. Now, he was really alone.
Maybe he had been alone all his life.
The last
echoes of the footsteps faded. He looked up and saw nothing but the empty
street before him. Ken was gone. He hadn't cared enough to turn around.
Yamato was
cold. Freezing cold. And hungry. And tired. Maybe he would get sick. But he
couldn't bring himself to care enough to go home.
He sat back
onto his stone, the tears finally running down his cheeks, mingling with the
rain and falling to the ground, floating away like his life. He felt so lost
now. Left behind. Like Ken's black umbrella in the grass.
He closed
his eyes and continued to cry, for the first time in months. He was left
behind. He had always been.
Left behind
by his mother, by his father, whose work was always so much more important, by
his brother, who was so independent now, by Taichi. By Ken. Who just walked
away from him. Like everyone else.
He wanted
to die right there. He was so tired. So tired. But he couldn't think of a place
to go. So he continued to sit there, listening to the rain until he felt two
strong arms warp around him. He opened his eyes, shocked, and went stiff, but
then he relaxed and returned the embrace, desperately clinging to the warm body
before him, crying even harder. Ken had come back. Had come back to him. He did
care. He really did.
Yamato knew
it for sure when the other boy tightened his grip around him and wispered those
words in hid ear. He felt a hand stroking his wet hair, and it felt so good. So
good.
Yamato
closed his eyes again and smiled through his teas.
Maybe he
had found his shelter, after all.
- Fin -
August
19, 2001
Oh my, that
was bad! Uh hu! But, maybe I'll write a sequel. I'd have some nice ideas… but…
oh, better not…
