It Isn't True Chapter Two: Yellow
Notes: I just realized something. After I wrote my first two fanfictions (both for Wei§), I resolved to dedicate anything else I posted to someone. Because I think that's cute. So, it seems appropriate that this story is dedicated to my partner in crime, T.C. Without her, I would never know anime. Without her, I wouldn't be inspired to write. Aishiteru, T.C.!
The priest began. "My friends, I know at this time in your life, you are at a state of disbelief. You are saying to yourself, 'It isn't true. It isn't true. It isn't-' but it is. To relieve ourselves of the grief, we must first sweat it out. It's rather like having a fever. You have to deal with it to make it go away sooner. With that note, let us pray."
Everyone bowed their heads.
"Lord, help us to remember Eiri-san and all the deceased. Let us be strong and remember to pray not only for Eiri-san, not only for others, but for ourselves."
As everybody sat down, Shuichi thought about those words. Long and hard.
And before he knew it, it was his time.
"Shindou-san? Shindou-san, would you please come forward?"
"What?" He jumped and looked up.
Hiro leaned over to whisper to him. "It's time for your eulogy," he hissed.
"Oh. Right." Shuichi stood up.
"Where's what you wrote? What're you going to read?"
He looked back at Hiro as he walked to the altar. "I'm not a writer. Yuki is."
Stopping when he reached the podium, he stared out at the assembly for a minute. There were so many people there- lots of schoolgirls, weeping their eyes out for the man whose yellow hair they'd never know. There were those, crying softly or mourning for the hair that they'd looked at without really seeing. And then there was he, Shuichi, who took pride in being the only one who ran his fingers through that hair. Who had smelled that hair daily, who was so familiar with its scent of green apples, and who would miss it forever. It was gone? That wasn't true. That wasn't true. That wasn't-
"Shindou-san, are you ready to begin?"
Again, Shuichi jumped and looked up. The priest was smiling warmly at him.
He nodded slowly.
Opening his mouth, he expected something to come out. Anything that would say what Shuichi could never make the written form do so. But all that he emitted was an awkward squwak.
"Ahem." He wiped his eyes on the borrowed Kumagoro that Ryuichi had slipped him at the beginning of mass, and started over.
"I... I don't know how to start. It'd help a lot if I had something to read off of- something I had written- but I'm not the writer. Yuki is." He coughed. "Was.
"Even when we first met, that's how it was. He said I was a horrible songwriter, and from then on I loved him."
Several schoolgirls went, "Awwwww."
"You- nobody knows what it's like. Yuki was such a different person from just about anyone else in the world. You had to learn to speak his language. He'd say to go away, when he'd want nothing more than to have you by his side. He'd tell you you were a baka, when really, he'd love everything about you. Insults were affectionate, according to Yuki-ese.
"Mika, say Tohma died. Or vice versa. Or for anyone out there. Say your significant other died. He was ripped from your feeble grasp by the mighty jaws of death, and it was all you could do to hold on for as long as you did. And then the mouth swallowed him whole. Leaving with you nothing but the last memory of him.
"So I guess that's why I'm here today. Standing in front of all of you, without even a plan of what I'm going to say. All that's been haunting me for days is the last image of my lover's body, his eyes pleading me to hold on just a little bit longer. And then I saw him leave. I saw him leave.
"But I need to remember the Yuki Eiri he was. And the Yuki Eiri he is up in Heaven right now. He would say I was a baka for getting up here without a plan in the world. ....... I... I miss you, Yuki."
He stopped and turned away from the crowd for a moment. After he had gathered himself, he went on.
"Yuki was my sun. He warmed me up every day, made me feel good to be alive, no matter how harsh he sometimes was to me. Just like the sun- regardless of the sunburn, you love it. And during the days it isn't shining- it isn't there- you're just generally mopey. I've noticed that rainy days just make me in a crappy mood. Nothing in particular- it just sucks. When Yuki's not around, that's how it is.
"What a damn hurricane I've been caught in."
Shuichi stared down at his hands. He wondered whether it was a sin to curse in a church.
Damn, he thought. Damn damn damn damn damn.
"He was a great big yellow sun. Burning bright all the days of his life, and, so it seemed, hidden behind a cloud to everyone but myself.
"Let me ask you all something. Did any of you, ever, once, run your fingers through his hair?"
A few people shook their heads no. The rest stayed grave.
"That was only me. Only I, out of everyone in the world, got the joyous privelige of being able to do that. None of you have ever looked at Yuki Eiri, writer, brother, friend, lover, and actually seen him. X-ray vision, you could call it. I saw what was on the inside. And it was a beautiful, radiant thing. It still is. I will forever be searching for the words to describe it.... I...."
That was it. He broke down, slumping over the podium, body writhing with emotion. Ryuichi and Hiro immediately hurried up to either side of their friend, trying to hug him at the same time. As Ryuichi held him behind the tallest of the three, Hiro looked up and continued where Shuichi had left off.
"Yuki Eiri. I didn't know him. I just did not. As Shu-chan said, no one knew him except for Shuichi himself. You couldn't see him unless you looked at him through a pair of Eiri brand glasses. And he only sold them to certain people. So far, he's only made one sale- to Shindou Shuichi. Anyone else just saw... Yuki. But... they didn't. I guess Shu is right- you really can't describe it. But anyone who knew him knows what I'm trying to say, so I guess that's all right." He turned slowly to check on the state of his friend. Ryuichi winked at him and motioned for him to go sit down. Hiro did.
"What Shuichi means, is, folks, is this. When you look at the sun, can you see the yellow? Or do you just see the blinding white light?" Ryuichi said to the crowd, an arm protectively slung around the pink haired boy's shoulder.
Shuichi looked up at his friend. "I only see the light, Sakuma-san."
"Exactly. If you're really, really special, you'll see the yellow. But only one person gets to see that- that's God." He winked up at the priest. "Shuichi, you were God to Yuki."
Shuichi stared at Ryuichi. He blinked and then looked at the crowd, most of whom, save only a few male fans of Yuki's, had wet eyes.
He sniffed and smiled lightly. "Yes. Exactly what Sakuma-san said. I see the yellow."
A/N: Cute, ne? If it's a little choppy, excuse me. I am trying very hard. I am! Wai!
By the way, I am in beta business. If you ever need a beta, I will be one for you-I love doing that!
IM: SchizoPaperclip
Email: orenjiirosora@hotmail.com
Well. What's that? A button that says "review." I wonder what it does? Why don't you click it to find out?
Notes: I just realized something. After I wrote my first two fanfictions (both for Wei§), I resolved to dedicate anything else I posted to someone. Because I think that's cute. So, it seems appropriate that this story is dedicated to my partner in crime, T.C. Without her, I would never know anime. Without her, I wouldn't be inspired to write. Aishiteru, T.C.!
The priest began. "My friends, I know at this time in your life, you are at a state of disbelief. You are saying to yourself, 'It isn't true. It isn't true. It isn't-' but it is. To relieve ourselves of the grief, we must first sweat it out. It's rather like having a fever. You have to deal with it to make it go away sooner. With that note, let us pray."
Everyone bowed their heads.
"Lord, help us to remember Eiri-san and all the deceased. Let us be strong and remember to pray not only for Eiri-san, not only for others, but for ourselves."
As everybody sat down, Shuichi thought about those words. Long and hard.
And before he knew it, it was his time.
"Shindou-san? Shindou-san, would you please come forward?"
"What?" He jumped and looked up.
Hiro leaned over to whisper to him. "It's time for your eulogy," he hissed.
"Oh. Right." Shuichi stood up.
"Where's what you wrote? What're you going to read?"
He looked back at Hiro as he walked to the altar. "I'm not a writer. Yuki is."
Stopping when he reached the podium, he stared out at the assembly for a minute. There were so many people there- lots of schoolgirls, weeping their eyes out for the man whose yellow hair they'd never know. There were those, crying softly or mourning for the hair that they'd looked at without really seeing. And then there was he, Shuichi, who took pride in being the only one who ran his fingers through that hair. Who had smelled that hair daily, who was so familiar with its scent of green apples, and who would miss it forever. It was gone? That wasn't true. That wasn't true. That wasn't-
"Shindou-san, are you ready to begin?"
Again, Shuichi jumped and looked up. The priest was smiling warmly at him.
He nodded slowly.
Opening his mouth, he expected something to come out. Anything that would say what Shuichi could never make the written form do so. But all that he emitted was an awkward squwak.
"Ahem." He wiped his eyes on the borrowed Kumagoro that Ryuichi had slipped him at the beginning of mass, and started over.
"I... I don't know how to start. It'd help a lot if I had something to read off of- something I had written- but I'm not the writer. Yuki is." He coughed. "Was.
"Even when we first met, that's how it was. He said I was a horrible songwriter, and from then on I loved him."
Several schoolgirls went, "Awwwww."
"You- nobody knows what it's like. Yuki was such a different person from just about anyone else in the world. You had to learn to speak his language. He'd say to go away, when he'd want nothing more than to have you by his side. He'd tell you you were a baka, when really, he'd love everything about you. Insults were affectionate, according to Yuki-ese.
"Mika, say Tohma died. Or vice versa. Or for anyone out there. Say your significant other died. He was ripped from your feeble grasp by the mighty jaws of death, and it was all you could do to hold on for as long as you did. And then the mouth swallowed him whole. Leaving with you nothing but the last memory of him.
"So I guess that's why I'm here today. Standing in front of all of you, without even a plan of what I'm going to say. All that's been haunting me for days is the last image of my lover's body, his eyes pleading me to hold on just a little bit longer. And then I saw him leave. I saw him leave.
"But I need to remember the Yuki Eiri he was. And the Yuki Eiri he is up in Heaven right now. He would say I was a baka for getting up here without a plan in the world. ....... I... I miss you, Yuki."
He stopped and turned away from the crowd for a moment. After he had gathered himself, he went on.
"Yuki was my sun. He warmed me up every day, made me feel good to be alive, no matter how harsh he sometimes was to me. Just like the sun- regardless of the sunburn, you love it. And during the days it isn't shining- it isn't there- you're just generally mopey. I've noticed that rainy days just make me in a crappy mood. Nothing in particular- it just sucks. When Yuki's not around, that's how it is.
"What a damn hurricane I've been caught in."
Shuichi stared down at his hands. He wondered whether it was a sin to curse in a church.
Damn, he thought. Damn damn damn damn damn.
"He was a great big yellow sun. Burning bright all the days of his life, and, so it seemed, hidden behind a cloud to everyone but myself.
"Let me ask you all something. Did any of you, ever, once, run your fingers through his hair?"
A few people shook their heads no. The rest stayed grave.
"That was only me. Only I, out of everyone in the world, got the joyous privelige of being able to do that. None of you have ever looked at Yuki Eiri, writer, brother, friend, lover, and actually seen him. X-ray vision, you could call it. I saw what was on the inside. And it was a beautiful, radiant thing. It still is. I will forever be searching for the words to describe it.... I...."
That was it. He broke down, slumping over the podium, body writhing with emotion. Ryuichi and Hiro immediately hurried up to either side of their friend, trying to hug him at the same time. As Ryuichi held him behind the tallest of the three, Hiro looked up and continued where Shuichi had left off.
"Yuki Eiri. I didn't know him. I just did not. As Shu-chan said, no one knew him except for Shuichi himself. You couldn't see him unless you looked at him through a pair of Eiri brand glasses. And he only sold them to certain people. So far, he's only made one sale- to Shindou Shuichi. Anyone else just saw... Yuki. But... they didn't. I guess Shu is right- you really can't describe it. But anyone who knew him knows what I'm trying to say, so I guess that's all right." He turned slowly to check on the state of his friend. Ryuichi winked at him and motioned for him to go sit down. Hiro did.
"What Shuichi means, is, folks, is this. When you look at the sun, can you see the yellow? Or do you just see the blinding white light?" Ryuichi said to the crowd, an arm protectively slung around the pink haired boy's shoulder.
Shuichi looked up at his friend. "I only see the light, Sakuma-san."
"Exactly. If you're really, really special, you'll see the yellow. But only one person gets to see that- that's God." He winked up at the priest. "Shuichi, you were God to Yuki."
Shuichi stared at Ryuichi. He blinked and then looked at the crowd, most of whom, save only a few male fans of Yuki's, had wet eyes.
He sniffed and smiled lightly. "Yes. Exactly what Sakuma-san said. I see the yellow."
A/N: Cute, ne? If it's a little choppy, excuse me. I am trying very hard. I am! Wai!
By the way, I am in beta business. If you ever need a beta, I will be one for you-I love doing that!
IM: SchizoPaperclip
Email: orenjiirosora@hotmail.com
Well. What's that? A button that says "review." I wonder what it does? Why don't you click it to find out?