This is Suzume, and this is rated R for a crazy freak…. Er, you'll see… Ah ha!!!! So you ARE reading this, eh? Well, here's a quick AN – This is a songfic. Fisher rules all, remember that, all her songs are perfect *feels unworthy*
;_; Ha ha, I already know which song goes with who in Eva… ^_^ Esp this and breakable… ^.^ tho breakable is not exactly fit for the pair this depresssing fic focuses on… blah blah blah, I don't own fisher's songs, I don't own eva, or Kaworu would be alive and he and Shinji would live happily ever after, and then I wouldn't be WRITING this, now, would I? Ok, I don't own anything, no $, dun sue!!!!
A dark haired man sighed, his declaration of surrender to the darkness around him… His pale skin was paler still in the feeble moonlight that managed to get through the window.
Nine years… How could it have been nine years? But it had. Nine. He was pretty sure… what was time anyway? Blurred, forgotten memories, save the untouchable, painfully sharp and clear one of – no – but he refused to remember.
Floating… a dark small shape, blood on his fingers, so easily washed off - but not like the memories.
It's just too bad he could not earase the memories. Like he had earased – NO! NO, NO, NO!!!
But he could try to forget, but he could merely blur all else. Occaisonally, he would near the memory – too painful. Sharp and real. More real than the darkness seemed.
The darkness he couldn't quite remember – the darkness surrounding him… It was surreal.
He was just waiting for it to end.
His soul felt like it was stretching, straining…
-But I haven't got a soul- he thought darkly… No, he didn't, did he? He'd given it away, years ago, to his Koi, one that left. Without. One. Word. Yes, he had abandoned him.
Hadn't he? No, something more painful. But he got the feeling – the feeling of emptiness.
He must have lost it – lost his soul – anyway. Wondered how. Thought it was a bit like leaving one's head somewhere. Should be impossible. But no. Or else hearts could never be truly won from the living.
"Sell my soul - I'll sell my soul I've
nothing left to lose…"
There was no escape. The memory was just a cruel persuer… There was nothing left for him, was there? For a while… for a while… vaugely, he remembered… he was… what was the word for it? Masochistic… He had… He remembered the staple gun, a little… There were scars all up and down his arms from things he didn't really recall.
Wondered… wondered…
Lonely… There were a few tattoos, here and there. He had done them himself. Without ever flinching, so much of him was numb by then. He created his own pain just to make sure he was still real, still alive. He couldn't cry anymore… that was why. Why he did all of it. The tattoo of blood on his fingers, anger on his heart, tears on… Tears where he couldn't find the will to cry. Not anymore.
"Hurt myself - I'll hurt myself cover
my face with tattoos all of
painted tears - one for each year that
only could have been
Anything I can do to keep you
underneath my skin"
Wasn't sure if he was really living, or only dead and pretending… A sort of zombie half-attempting a dreary life. Failing, of course. Failed at everything, couldn't even feel much anymore. Even the taste of falure…
But there was something left. One thing. A memory left, so tasteable…
Scarlet…
Eyes…? Yes, there had been such eyes once.
Blood…
Blood on his hands, and screaming, screaming…
Before pain, he'd tried other things, of course. Why not? Tried. Tried to push Asuka away – gently. With Misato. And Kitsune. Didn't have to push Toji away, of course, because he was…
No. Dead too. Now he would never open up. The burning spikes… the porcupine's disposition. Stronger, now, since he had been betrayed…
So… no one, ever, to help light up the darkness. Over and over, so alone.
But that was what he wanted, now. Unless he could have…
No. But he couldn't have an angel. No person like him deserved an angel of his own.
"Chorus:
Over and over I tell myself
If there's no you there's nobody else and I'd
rather be lonely - I'd rather die
six hundred sixty-six times"
He had opened up. Just that one night. Opened up to the soft voice, gentle touch… That one day, perhaps he had been himself… But he would never be again. Not when all of that – when it had been torn from him, when he had been betrayed by someone he couldn't hate, not in the end… Now he was just so empty. A choked husk of that one night, that fourteen year old lover that had arrived so long ago.
And he could never find Kawo- NO! He would NEVER think that traitor's name again, he BETRAYED!…
So lost.
"By myself - I'm not myself I can't
be without you
An empty shell - my former self is out
looking to find you"
Asuka. When she had turned 20, she had returned to flaunt everything she had. She, too, was lost, and needed, perhaps, to visit the grave marking the ruin of another lonely soul… But he hadn't wanted her. He had turned his back and waited for the darkness to finish consuming him. And left her alone in the room with a sickly, sorry, darkened body, breathing careful. As he buried himself in all the half-memories. But never that one…
He… he had killed. Had killed… NO!!! NO, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
"Over and over I tell myself
If there's no you there's nobody else and I'd
rather be lonely - I'd rather die
six hundred sixty-six times "
Six hundred sixty six. The number of the beast.
That number was as good as his, now, anyway.
*~owari~*
;_; Ha ha, I already know which song goes with who in Eva… ^_^ Esp this and breakable… ^.^ tho breakable is not exactly fit for the pair this depresssing fic focuses on… blah blah blah, I don't own fisher's songs, I don't own eva, or Kaworu would be alive and he and Shinji would live happily ever after, and then I wouldn't be WRITING this, now, would I? Ok, I don't own anything, no $, dun sue!!!!
A dark haired man sighed, his declaration of surrender to the darkness around him… His pale skin was paler still in the feeble moonlight that managed to get through the window.
Nine years… How could it have been nine years? But it had. Nine. He was pretty sure… what was time anyway? Blurred, forgotten memories, save the untouchable, painfully sharp and clear one of – no – but he refused to remember.
Floating… a dark small shape, blood on his fingers, so easily washed off - but not like the memories.
It's just too bad he could not earase the memories. Like he had earased – NO! NO, NO, NO!!!
But he could try to forget, but he could merely blur all else. Occaisonally, he would near the memory – too painful. Sharp and real. More real than the darkness seemed.
The darkness he couldn't quite remember – the darkness surrounding him… It was surreal.
He was just waiting for it to end.
His soul felt like it was stretching, straining…
-But I haven't got a soul- he thought darkly… No, he didn't, did he? He'd given it away, years ago, to his Koi, one that left. Without. One. Word. Yes, he had abandoned him.
Hadn't he? No, something more painful. But he got the feeling – the feeling of emptiness.
He must have lost it – lost his soul – anyway. Wondered how. Thought it was a bit like leaving one's head somewhere. Should be impossible. But no. Or else hearts could never be truly won from the living.
"Sell my soul - I'll sell my soul I've
nothing left to lose…"
There was no escape. The memory was just a cruel persuer… There was nothing left for him, was there? For a while… for a while… vaugely, he remembered… he was… what was the word for it? Masochistic… He had… He remembered the staple gun, a little… There were scars all up and down his arms from things he didn't really recall.
Wondered… wondered…
Lonely… There were a few tattoos, here and there. He had done them himself. Without ever flinching, so much of him was numb by then. He created his own pain just to make sure he was still real, still alive. He couldn't cry anymore… that was why. Why he did all of it. The tattoo of blood on his fingers, anger on his heart, tears on… Tears where he couldn't find the will to cry. Not anymore.
"Hurt myself - I'll hurt myself cover
my face with tattoos all of
painted tears - one for each year that
only could have been
Anything I can do to keep you
underneath my skin"
Wasn't sure if he was really living, or only dead and pretending… A sort of zombie half-attempting a dreary life. Failing, of course. Failed at everything, couldn't even feel much anymore. Even the taste of falure…
But there was something left. One thing. A memory left, so tasteable…
Scarlet…
Eyes…? Yes, there had been such eyes once.
Blood…
Blood on his hands, and screaming, screaming…
Before pain, he'd tried other things, of course. Why not? Tried. Tried to push Asuka away – gently. With Misato. And Kitsune. Didn't have to push Toji away, of course, because he was…
No. Dead too. Now he would never open up. The burning spikes… the porcupine's disposition. Stronger, now, since he had been betrayed…
So… no one, ever, to help light up the darkness. Over and over, so alone.
But that was what he wanted, now. Unless he could have…
No. But he couldn't have an angel. No person like him deserved an angel of his own.
"Chorus:
Over and over I tell myself
If there's no you there's nobody else and I'd
rather be lonely - I'd rather die
six hundred sixty-six times"
He had opened up. Just that one night. Opened up to the soft voice, gentle touch… That one day, perhaps he had been himself… But he would never be again. Not when all of that – when it had been torn from him, when he had been betrayed by someone he couldn't hate, not in the end… Now he was just so empty. A choked husk of that one night, that fourteen year old lover that had arrived so long ago.
And he could never find Kawo- NO! He would NEVER think that traitor's name again, he BETRAYED!…
So lost.
"By myself - I'm not myself I can't
be without you
An empty shell - my former self is out
looking to find you"
Asuka. When she had turned 20, she had returned to flaunt everything she had. She, too, was lost, and needed, perhaps, to visit the grave marking the ruin of another lonely soul… But he hadn't wanted her. He had turned his back and waited for the darkness to finish consuming him. And left her alone in the room with a sickly, sorry, darkened body, breathing careful. As he buried himself in all the half-memories. But never that one…
He… he had killed. Had killed… NO!!! NO, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!
"Over and over I tell myself
If there's no you there's nobody else and I'd
rather be lonely - I'd rather die
six hundred sixty-six times "
Six hundred sixty six. The number of the beast.
That number was as good as his, now, anyway.
*~owari~*