Fishes in a Golden Sea
A Variant of the X Plotline
Note: The following fic is a "variant", meaning that it's an AU that follows the canon up to X volume 6 or so and then sort ofwell, varies. In this plot, Kotori doesn't die, and in addition to this she become a yumemi. The first part of the story focuses on the Monous and Kamui only, so pretend that no one else exists, except for maybe Kakyou. Big changes, I know, but stick with me please. I hope it'll turn out well. Expect the usual: shonen-ai (big-time), random jokes, ecchiness, and wordiness. Hooray for me.
Disclaimer: X, Kamui, Subby-kun, and the rest of the merry gang don't belong to me. (Unfortunately, but c'est la vie, eh?)
ONE
I. The Interestingness Commences
She had the most gorgeous eyes. So filled with emotion, so luminous. Right now they weren't visible under her blue-veined lids, but her eyelashes filled him with almost equal wonder. Such a soft golden fringe, casting a pinkish shadow on her cheek.
"Fuuma," said his Kamui (yes, his ) without inflection, "you're staring at Kotori. It's not nice to stare when people are asleep."
"She's not asleep, she's in a faint."
"Big difference."
"You had better believe it." Kamui pretended to grit his teeth, and Fuuma smiled. Wanly, because of how late they'd been up last night, what with Tokiko-san and her interesting package. And then Kotori decided to faint. Add on top of that delighful heap the death of Kyougo, Kamui's abrupt appearance, and that packet of unfinished calculus homework. But Monou Fuuma did not complain--he just hit things and pretended he hadn't.
Shirou Kamui knew of this denial very well, and so at this point in the argument said, "Fuuma, your hand was--is--shaking like crazy."
Fuuma looked down to deny it and was mortified to find that indeed his hand (stretched halfway to Kotori's face) was describing tiny circles in the air, all on its own. "Eh," he muttered, and put the hand on his left knee. This shifted his position on the bed, so now he stared at Kamui. He's changed, he observed (oh-so-astute as always). Where'd the cute giggly Kamui go? His hand rose of its own volition once more and tried to lift the corners of Kamui's mouth and only succeeded in producing a leer. And then a very red blush. "What are you doing?"
"How come you don't smile anymore?"
Leer. "Why should I? Nothing's happened that's deserved a smile. Kotori's asleep, Monou-san'sand Tokiko-san too" Kamui buried his face rather unsuccesfully in his arms and snuffled. Probably to hide his redness (which had spread beautifully evenly to his neck ). "I shouldn't have come back. It was stupid. Mother had alreadyand then"
Fuuma's conscience overrode his reason ( yet again), and he put an arm around Kamui's shoulders. "Not Kamui's fault."
"Oh? Right." Now the sarcasm had covered up the embarassment. Kamui was very good at sarcasm. "I refuse to believe that! It is my fault! If only Mother hadn't had me, then nobody would be dead!" He sagged in his chair. "Ido you hate me, Fuuma?"
"Idon't hate you for it. I hate Fate, but that doesn't do any good."
"You dislike me at least?"
"Look, do you want me to say that I hate you?"
Kamui blinked at him, tears starting to form and collect in his under-lashes, and suddenly leaped at him and put his face in the hollow of Fuuma's collarbone and sobbed. "No! I want Fuuma to to not hate me. Because I don't hate Fuuma"
"Erm? Onii-chan? Kamui-chan?"
The two boys jumped apart and exchanged looks of shock. Kotori had sat up in bed and was tilting her head quizzically at them.
"Youprobably want breakfast?" Fuuma asked, lamely.
"Sure!" And as always, Kotori-chan was just as observant as her brother ever was.
II. When People Eat Breakfast, They Don't Act Angsty
"Wow! Kamui, these look really nice!"
Fuuma could only stare at the neat, steaming stack of pancakes before him, topped by a bit of strawberry preserve.
But no additional praise of them was needed for Kamui to happily wash the dishes and then join the Monou siblings at the table with his own food. Again the meticulous one for detail, Fuuma said (for the sake of saying something, mostly), "Kamui, that's not enough for you."
Evil glare, a bit sheepishly. "Yes it is."
"You are growing. You need more than that." Fuuma waved his hand at the two pancakes on Kamui's plate and shook his head disapprovingly. "At least have some of mineyou gave me twenty-three"
"Fifteen. And you're growing too, Fuuma."
"I don't need to grow." Oops. A real Evil Glare ™ this time. And then silence, consisting of thirty percent Kamui's fuming, thirty percent Kotori's innocuous indifference to the whole conversation, and forty percent Fuuma thinking apologetic thoughts.
As Kamui stood up and pushed his chair back with a loud srcctch, Fuuma grabbed his elbow. "Kamui, I have to talk with you."
"What?" Another Glare. "You don't have to apologize."
"No no, it's something else. But I apologize too."
A little gasp.And a little smile. "Okay. Let me do the dishes."
*
He watched the other settle himself on the chair and turn it to face the bed. "All right. What is it?"
"Would you like to stay with us?"
"What?" Kamui looked a little startled. "Ishouldn't. I've got things I should do. That I have to do, in Tokyo."
"I knowbut, Kamui, where were you planning to live?" Fuuma gazed at the indigo eyes and thought how, other than the color, they were remarkably similar to Kotori's. "I mean, your old house"
"I don't know, Fuuma!" Kamui thumped the armrest of the chair. "I wasn't thinking correctly. I don't know, I don't know anything. I didn't concentrate on my schoolwork, I didn't care about anyone or anything. Or I thought I didn't."
"And now? What do you think now?"
Kamui evaded the question."Iguess I'll stay here. But promise me--" he reached a small hand and dropped it shyly on Fuuma's shoulder, "promise me that you won't ask me about where I go and what I do. And don't look for me if I don't come back. Promise me."
Fuuma's eyes widened as he considered the possibilities of what Kamui could want to do with that promise. He also considered the chances that he could actually keep that promise. But Kamui looked so desperate, so pleading. Like he was about to cry again. I can't bear to see him cry.
"Yes, I promise. Pinky promise." They linked fingers.
"Thank you, Fuuma."
End ONE