Come Clean
By: Minuiko
Summary: Well, okay, I decided to make a one-shot song fic. With Hilary Duff's "Come Clean." Not exactly my favorite song, but it rather fits Mitarai . . . in a strange, twisted way. The setting is five years after the Black Chapter saga, in modern day Tokyo. Mitarai is contemplating about his life when a strangely familiar person comes to his doorstep . . . Sniper x Seaman, AU, Shounen-ai, don't like, don't read.
Yes, this is my second Mitarai/Hagiri story. What can I say?? I'm trying to do an angst/fluff thing. Let's see how it turns out. There's gonna be some OOC-ness because I doubt Mitarai or Hagiri ever cussed in the show, and I don't think they even like each other. But still. ;)
(!#$&)
Let's go back...back to the beginning.
Back to when the earth, the sun, the stars all aligned.
Cause perfect...isn't just so perfect.
Trying to fit a square into a circle, was no lie...
I...defy...
Mitarai took a deep breath as the blood streamed from his wrists. Breathe in. Breathe out. He was nineteen. And still fighting back tears of frustration, just like the dumb junior high kid he was five years ago. Yes . . . it had been five years since he got his powers, five years since he met Sensui-san . . . He had had the perfect idea, and it had been so convincing, too . . .
Humans deserved to die.
That could've been right, it was so perfect. But then again, nothing was perfect. Nothing. He had once thought so, but now . . . no. Humans had their good sides, and their bad sides as well, it just depended on which side they chose to harness, to show . . . Kuwabara-kun was a perfect example. Mitarai had thought that he looked like one of those tough guys, a punk, a bully . . . which he basically was, minus the bully part, but hadn't he spared Mitarai when he really wanted to kill him?
And Sensui-san. Sensui-san wasn't the most satanic person he could think of, but he was pretty twisted up. His sense of right and wrong was strong . . . too strong, as Koenma-sama had said. He could only think of humans as only good, or only evil . . . it just didn't occur to him that they could have their bad or good moments. Mitarai sighed. He wasn't to blame. Hell, he was even right in a way.
But now. Now. He was pushed around just as hard as before, perhaps even harder. He still had a fading scar from where Kuwabara-kun had sliced open his chest, but that was nothing compared to what people were doing to him now. He occasionally slashed open old scabs on his wrists to see how much he would bleed, just like he was now. The pain was quick, a sudden rush, you know. It was . . . thrilling. And scary. He didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was to prove that he could stand pain. He could defy it just like everyone else.
He remembered everything so clearly.
He remembered it. Everyone hated him. He was a weakling. Even Sensui-san had said so. Amanuma had said so, too. Mitarai ignored it then. Hagiri-kun . . . well, he hadn't really taken much notice of Mitarai either way, except in that attempt to "kill" him back in Yusuke's apartment. Hagiri-kun . . . the name brought back a strange feeling in his gut.
Let the rain fall down and wake my dreams,
Let it wash away my sanity,
'Cause I wanna feel the thunder, I wanna scream,
Let the rain fall down, I'm coming clean . . .
I'm coming clean.
Mitarai had never really thought of Kaname Hagiri as Sniper, but the name fit his mysterious demeanor. He didn't really know much about him, only that there was something about the older boy that excited him. He was like the rain, the rain he loved so much . . . Mitarai grimaced as the cut in his wrist really started to hurt.
He heard the doorbell ring. Perhaps it was his teacher, to confront him about his recently failed test. Perhaps it was the gang that had taken to beating on him every day. Perhaps . . . well, he knew that he didn't want to answer the door. And if it was someone he had met five years ago . . . it would be pitiful to see him in this state. He had learned his lesson. Humans were good and bad. The Chapter Black video was never meant to be seen alone. But his life still wasn't worth much more that crap, in his opinion. People still only showed their contemptuous sides to him. Maybe he was cursed or something.
The bell rung several more times. Mitarai shrank a little bit more in his corner of the small apartment. Then he heard a voice. A deep voice, with an unidentifiable but unique accent that he never thought he'd hear again. After all, the voice had disappeared with him . . . with Hagiri-kun.
"I know you're in there, Seaman, I can feel your ki. Are you gonna open the door or am I gonna have to break it?"
Suddenly, for absolutely no reason at all, Mitarai felt hot tears run course down his cheeks. To hear that voice again—it was . . . refreshing. It was almost as good as being in the rain. Cool, unpredictable. Hagiri had given no warning of his arrival. But here he was . . . It had been almost a year since the last rain, but Mitarai still remembered how soothing it was. As the doorbell rung again, his heartbeat unconsciously quickened. He quickly bandaged his wrists, moping up the tears and the blood, and then—he opened the door.
I'm shedding... shedding every color.
Trying to find a pigment of truth beneath my skin.
'Cause different... doesn't feel so different.
And going out is better than always staying in...
Feel... the wind...
There he was. On Mitarai's doorstep. The nineteen-year-old nearly choked with emotion. Hagiri Kaname. He looked the same as ever—well, okay, not identical. He was just slightly taller, and his eyes showed traces of weariness. His body, too, was just a bit thinner—but honestly. He had the same violet eyes Mitarai remembered, the same boyish haircut, the same conceited smirk . . . He must be around twenty-two now.
"Hagiri-kun . . ."
Hagiri seemed to be taking him in. His sharp eyes were looking at the mess Mitarai must've looked like—oh, yeah, he probably looked like shit. His ocean-blue eyes, which were slightly rimmed with red from the tears, stood out, huge, against the pall of his skin . . . how dirty his sandy blond hair must look, and his too-skinny body wasn't exactly much help. Heh, I probably look like I have anorexia or something.
Hagiri didn't smile. "It may seem random, since I haven't seen you in five years, but—man, you look like crap."
Close enough. Mitarai managed a smile. "Yeah, I know . . . wanna come in? It's about as cozy as a dumpster, but I manage."
Hagiri was still frowning. Well,, it wasn't as though Mitarai asked him to visit. Finally, the older man consented, taking off his worn red jacket. Mitarai gulped. It wasn't every day a person got to see Hagiri with only a T-shirt on. And a nearly see-through one at that. Especially as well-built as Hagiri was.
Hagiri was looking around the gloomy surroundings. Suddenly, his hand shot out and turned Mitarai's bandaged wrists over. "Seaman."
Mitarai bit his lip, unable to meet Hagiri's eyes. "It's Mitarai. I don't ever want to hear 'Seaman' again."
"Whatever. Mitarai. What's this?"
Mitarai looked at the bloody knife he had used to slash his wrists. Well. Of course Hagiri had noticed it. It was the most noticeable item in the room, shining silver stained with crimson blood. He had forgotten to put it away. People normally didn't visit him, especially since he was so unpopular. But . . . was it just him, or did Hagiri look worried, even concerned? You know, he's not so different from Kuwabara. He has his good moments. After all . . . psychic or not, he's still a human.
"Your life's been that fucked up, huh?"
"Listen, I don't need anyone to worry over my worthless life, okay? It's fine. I'm okay. Not dead yet," and Mitarai added, "I still think the human race, however twisted it is, deserves to live, which is more than I can say for Sensui."
Hagiri was staring at him intently, his mouth twitching. Finally, he said in a low voice, "I don't want you hurting yourself for the sake of a fallen race, Mitarai."
Mitarai laughed loudly, feeling extremely ironic. "Oh, and like I said, Sniper, it's not fallen yet. I just haven't met any decent human beings, other than Kuwabara-kun and Kurama-san."
They stood in mutual silence for a time, but were suddenly interrupted by a strange, familiar pattering sound. Mitarai knew at once what it was, and his hopes lifted, but decided to ask anyways. He whispered happily, "What's that?"
Hagiri smiled, offering quietly, "Rain."
Let the rain fall down and wake my dreams,
Let it wash away my sanity,
'Cause I wanna feel the thunder, I wanna scream,
Let the rain fall down, I'm coming clean . . .
I'm coming clean.
Mitarai ran out into the rain, a big grin suddenly appearing on his face. He loved it. He loved when it just poured unexpectedly like this. He didn't have his jacket; he was cold; he was getting soaked through. And yet, he didn't care. It was raining, and he loved it.
Suddenly he had an inspiration. Taking the bandage off of one wrist, he squeezed the wound, allowing a few drops of his blood to seep into the rain . . . all of a sudden, a light flashed in the ground. Mitarai was grinning, grinning big. It had been years since he had done this, but still.
He felt Hagiri's warm presence behind him. That cool voice stated, "You'll catch a cold if you stand out here much longer."
"Who's asking you to accompany me?"
But Mitarai wasn't angry, or bitter, anymore. The rain was, truly, refreshing. That was all he cared about. It seemed like all his pent up anger had been washed away. That was what he loved about it. The teen looked down; the little blood-water monster had appeared. Mitarai smiled softly as he picked it up, squeezing it around the middle. He murmured to Hagiri, "Cute, isn't it, Hagiri-kun?"
It happened so quickly. Hagiri just—out of the blue—answered, "Not as cute as you," and—kissed him. Mitarai gasped, dropping the creature. It—this—was Sniper. Kissing him. God. The first thought that came to him was, Shit, he's a boy, and he's kissing me, another boy. That's disgusting. And the second was, Damn, he's hot.
Mitarai knew it then. He actually did like Hagiri. In that way.
I'm coming clean...
Let the rain fall.
Let the rain fall.
I'm coming...
Mitarai was kissing back. With heated passion he had no idea he was capable of. He was aware that he was no longer cold. The other man's warmth, his closeness, was more than enough heat. The rain surrounded them. It was dark and damp, but he was warmer than he thought was possible. Warmer than anyone had a right to be. His anger, his wrists, the pain, everything, was all in the past now. It was raining, and Hagiri was here.
Let the rain fall down and wake my dreams,
Let it wash away my sanity,
'Cause I wanna feel the thunder, I wanna scream,
Let the rain fall down, I'm coming clean . . .
I'm coming clean.
Hagiri suddenly let him go, and was embracing him, hard. "I don't want you to ever hurt yourself again, do you hear me? I don't care what alleged group provoked you, you're above all that."
Mitarai felt the tears starting again, this time with no bitterness. As he had thought before, Hagiri was like the rain. Calming, refreshing, and most importantly, utterly unpredictable. And Mitarai was even smiling, a little, as he replied, "Hai."
He hugged back, feeling happier than he had in years. It was as though a great burden was lifted off of him, despite the fact that he knew he would have to face his grades, his enemies, tomorrow. He knew. He felt like he was worth more than anything. "Arigatou, Hagiri-kun."
Let's go back...
Back to the beginning...
.:: The End ::.
A/N: Um. That was . . . strange. And unlike me. It was random as well. I was trying out an angst/fluff thing, like I said. And this is the result. If it made anyone cry or feel all "walking in the clouds" (I sincerely doubt that), however, please tell me. That tells me that my mission is accomplished. ï