Title: Hear the beating
Author: Nekocin
Type: AU series
Genres: Romance, General, Angst
Warnings: Out of Character-ness (I apologize for that), (some) clichés
Pairings: Dearka+Miriallia (mentions of Miriallia+Tolle, mild Athrun+Cagalli and mild Kira+Lacus)
Rated: PG
Additional notes: Hetero, 1st person PoV
Disclaimer: Gundam SEED doesn't belong to me.
Author's notes: After many failed attempts of writing at least one fanfiction for this series, I've finally got the chance to do so now. I'm very sure everyone is familiar with the plot—:shifty eyes: at least that's what I assume—since it's pretty easy to guess how everything will go. The plot is, sadly, very predictable if you ask me... then why the heck am I writing this, you wonder. Hmmm—probably because of the fact that I felt encouraged to do so XP. Anyways, I'll try to spice up the story a bit, considering the fact that I like spicy food like for example the Thai food, Indonesian food, Indian food... :continues rattling about spicy food: n.n;;
1.
I came into this world with a weak heart.
Mother constantly fawned over me as soon as I was able to walk and tried to keep me away from the other kids my age. She was afraid once I go outside playing, I would crumble before her eyes and disappear from her life; I was after all her light of the sun, besides my father of course.
She didn't really succeed in shielding me from the outside world for I was quite an energetic child back then. I liked doing outside games. I liked meeting people. Any other child would, now that I think about it.
In the end mother would scold me whenever I came back, smelling as if I'd run a marathon with mud and leaves sticking in my hair and clothes, and would always lecture me about my condition.
She'd drilled the fact that I might some day disappear into nothingness -every child is frightened of nothingness; I'd noticed- into my head. As for father—he didn't really say anything about my wanting to go outside and all, but I knew he was silently agreeing with mother about everything.
The irony was -despite my parents' fears- I was actually allowed to go outside and play anyway, and had been called 'a healthy child' many, many times before. No one could see it branded on my forehead that my heart was weak, when I went outside.
No wonder I had more tan than mother; I was simply always outside when the sun was at its hottest.
My heart's condition didn't get any worse or any better during elementary school or primary high school.
Back then it was the time when I could just pretend that I was just as healthy as my friend Yzak competing with an acquaintance, Athrun -even though he didn't seem to notice- during one of their heated, silent 'battles'. Or as healthy as Athrun's friend, Nicol, passionately playing his piano to drive any listener to tears if he'd wanted to.
It was a time of peace—for me at least—until everything shattered on -that- day.
I didn't immediately go home after my afternoon shift at the ice cream parlor was over. Instead, I went downtown in search for a nice present for my parents' anniversary. I'd booked reservations at some fancy European restaurant for their dinner date that night, and after that I took the bus back home—only to be met with a car collision.
Some bastard had pressed the gas pedal too hard that his puny BMW rammed into the bus I'd been in, denting the vehicle in the middle and forcing the bus, in which a total of 25 passengers along with the chauffeur were sitting, to tumble across the road as if it were a pebble thrown across the surface of a lake.
As soon as the car had hit the bus, a sharp pain had shot through my chest, almost rendering me immobile in my seat. As I was thrown around like a ragged doll the pain had intensified, making me wonder which death was worse out of both -a crushing car crash or an exploded heart-.
Neither one of them sounded promising though—one could be a slow and agonizing death, while the other was an easy and immediate one.
I still found it puzzling what had happened after that. How did I survive?
I must have fallen unconscious right after the shock.
The next thing I knew the doctor was telling me that I had a few months to live for my heart was getting weaker and weaker after the car crash. The only way to keep me alive much longer was an operation and a heart transplant—which sounded very awful and freaky in my ears.
Who wouldn't say it was uncomfortable that one's heart was replaced by another's heart? A heart of somebody who had once lived. A heart of somebody who had once existed. And besides that, even if I -did- choose for a heart transplant, who's to say whether my body would accept a foreign heart or not?
But there was no other choice for me; an immediate transfer was needed before the 'few' months were up.
Sadly, even though my name had already been placed on the -waiting- list before I was even aware of my illness, immediate action couldn't be taken. Something very valuable in the case of transplant was missing and that something was—an available heart.
So very few volunteers had signed up as available heart donors while the demands for heart transplants got higher and higher every year.
(The medic world looked so gloomy from my point of view.)
Even though a transplant couldn't be done, everyone was worrying about my state. Could I bear life much longer? Would I choose death soon?
I couldn't blame them.
My condition worsened as each day went by. There's always something painful in my heart, as if a shinigami was gripping it, sinking his nails, teeth, or anything sharp into the organ and forcing me to give up life.
I'd felt wasted during the agonizing battle for life—I did not want to leave the world without saying goodbye or without doing something good at least. I also didn't want anyone I love feel sad when I disappear, especially not mother. She would come into the hospital room in which I was staying and would cry all day long while standing by my side.
At last, an available heart was found a month after my accident and I could finally under go surgery for the first time.
I hadn't felt all right as the appointed day neared, and paled each day—doctor hadn't said anything about my paleness, probably because he knew everyone's afraid of the work of a surgeon.
I was put under heavy narcosis to numb most of my senses during the operation. Whatever I went through was still fuzzy in my head—something cold, something white, something probing, something removing, something strange—
The next thing I knew, mother's face was looking down at me with red-rimmed, puffy eyes, a tear-streaked face and a trembling dry-lipped smile.
"H-Hi," was the first thing that came out of her mouth.
I'd tried to smile, but failed for my cheeks felt too stiff and numb so I'd tried mouthing a 'Hi' to her instead.
Tears suddenly sprang in her eyes for god-knows-how-many times and she leaned over me, wanting to hug me as if there's no tomorrow.
It's by then I'd noticed someone else's heart was regularly beating inside of me—a rhythmic thumping. I felt as if my body had already emerged with this heart as soon as it was placed in me.
Whoever this heart had belonged to, I'm forever grateful.
XX XX XX
"2 cones of vanilla ice cream with M&M sprinkles, one cup of strawberry ice cream with caramel on top and one cup of chocolate mix, please!"
I nodded, while typing down the order on the computer registry, and twitched the corners of my lips into a friendly smile, "Anything else, Miss?"
Costumer number 365 stared dazedly at me as she brought her right hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened suddenly for no reason.
I raised my eyebrows at her, looked down to the registry screen to see if I'd typed something wrong and found myself frowning, "Is there something wrong, Miss?"
"N-No, that's all for now. Thank you," She paid for the ice cream and went to take her ordered ice cream from the other side of the counter.
I was back being the part-time ice-cream parlor guy 2 weeks after I was released from the hospital. All seemed well during my absence—at least it had seemed to me. I heard from my colleagues that costumers kept coming and coming, which meant business had been good even when I hadn't been around to keep the regular costumers entertained.
My boss went a bit lenient on me when I came back the first week, and kept lecturing about taking care of my health, while probably thinking I had asthma or some illness like dengue. He was acting just as worrisome like my mother.
Overall fate had been easy on me after my hospitalization; I still continued working part-time at 'FLAVORITE' -the ice cream parlor-, I still continued to be stared upon by girls, I still continued going to school, making mother worry over little stuff, hanging out with my father and his friends, being best friends with a difficult, hot-tempered Yzak. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
"Elthman, stop dreaming! Go help that poor girl!" Someone knocked the back of my head and pushed me aside, sending me back to reality.
"Eh? Why me?" I glared at one of my colleagues.
"You're a much better choice when handling sad-looking girls compared to me!"
I looked over at costumer number 366, the one I was supposed to help before my colleague had forcibly shoved me aside, and sighed. "That's a lame excuse. You just wanted to take Miss Clyne's orders,"
I rolled my eyes.
Miss Clyne chuckled lightly behind a pale hand and smiled at me.
"How are you doing, Mister Elthman? I heard you were in the hospital,"
Miss Lacus Clyne regarded me with her twinkling baby blue eyes.
She's one of regular costumers at Flavorite ever since Athrun had brought her here to have ice cream for the first time. She's his fiancée or something, I heard. It was arranged when both of them were still young. But even so, love didn't seem to be on their path—I couldn't really see them doing lovey-dovey stuff like most couples do. They seemed to be only good as friends in my humble opinion.
"I'm feeling quite all right. How about you? I hope my -friend- there-," Referring to the guy standing behind the registry machine I'd been standing a minute ago. "-had been taking good care of your orders, Lacus, while I was absent,"
Her smile widened.
"Ah, yes. He's been quite a gentleman-," That's where her comments stopped abruptly. My colleague shooed me away with a hand gesture as he kept Ms. Clyne busy with his whispering. Someone should really tell him that Miss Clyne was already taken and it won't be coming out of this mouth.
Shaking my head ruefully, I took my place behind the glassed counter and focused my attention on the costumer looking uncertainly at the many ice cream on display. She seemed at a loss.
"Can I help you with anything, Miss?" I began politely and catching her off guard.
She looked up at me nervously with her pair of dull, azure eyes and nodded slowly as if unsure.
"We have the 'Sundae Special', which consists of vanilla ice cream with chocolate cream in the center, hazel nuts or Oreo cookies on top. There's the 'ChoCo Bar'—a chocolate fudge bar mixed with coconut milk and hazel nuts. There's also the 'Raisin' Rum'. Don't be fooled by its name. It's basically a mixed of fruity-flavored ice cream with caramel and vanilla on top. Then there's 'Dark 'n Crunchy'—strawberry flavored ice cream coated by dark cacao layer filled with almond nuts. Of course there are more, but these are the specialties only found on Tuesdays. Personally, I love 'Dark 'n Crunchy'," I explained to her, while leaning over the glass to point out the specialties for her.
"I see," were the only quiet words she'd spoken before making me realize that I was hearing something loud banging in my ears. (It went like THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP!)
I suddenly found myself sucking the air loudly, while an unconscious hand went over my chest. For the first time after the operation, my heart was racing—no, skipping a few beats and hurting my chest. The pain was so intense that I had reeled back, clutching the front of my shirt-
"What's wrong?"
I blinked when I heard the quiet murmur and then I felt the painful, thudding heart was slowly slipping into its normal rhythmic pace. I felt relieved for the close call and looked back at the costumer I was helping.
"What's wrong?" she repeated out of concern and then slid her worried face aside to make place for her previously blank one.
"It's nothing. Just a shock," I smiled professionally down at her. She did not even sway or look dazed.
She nodded and dropped her eyes to look back at the ice cream on display.
"So, have you decided on anything yet, Miss?"
She nodded again, raised an elegant finger to the glassed counter and pointed'Dark 'n Crunchy'.
I found myself smiling at her decision.
"One 'Dark 'n Crunchy' coming u-,"
"Make it three," she cut me off with a whisper, gave me the money and turned away before I could comment. She then took a seat in the far corner and stared outside the window with sad azure eyes.
I guess I didn't do a good job at cheering her up.
The strange thing was that no one had noticed my sudden shocking moment. Whatever had shocked the heart in me, I hope it was nothing serious.
XX XX XX
During my break, Athrun suddenly came up to me, asking to come along; he'd wanted to tell me something important, which I found quite suspicious. Athrun and I weren't—what you would call—uh—close friends.
"We're breaking up," He said in a serious voice as soon as he'd turned to me.
All I could do was letting my jaw drop and widening my eyes.
"What?"
He sighed in exasperation and ran his fingers through his midnight blue locks several times before pinning his sharp glance on me. I shivered for some reason.
"Look! It sounds very awful, I know. But we thought it's best if we've broken it off,"
"And you're telling me this, because—?" I trailed off, raising my eyebrows inquiringly at Athrun's stoned face.
"Because I don't want you to see me as the bad party!"
Out of habit, I tilted my head to one side. "Ha?"
Call me retarded, but it was a bit too sudden that Athrun and Miss Clyne were breaking up for whatever reason there was. I mean, even if I didn't see them as a lovey-dovey couple, I found it quite a waste that they'd broken it off.
They might never find someone else to love since both were quite handsome people and rich to boot. Who wouldn't want to hang on Athrun's shoulder? Or be the hero in -supposedly- shining armor for Lacus' sake? I feared both Athrun and Lacus would become lonely people. With an engagement, even if they didn't find anyone else besides each other they could learn to love each other instead.
"I don't want you to see me as the one who drove Lacus away," Athrun elaborated and with a sigh, he dropped down to sit on a nearby plastic chair.
"Why would I think that?"
I rested my chin on my arms and stared up at him from across the table. "Tell me what had actually happened?"
"I don't know! I'm not even sure what I know! Lacus just suddenly advised me to call off the engagement. It's-it's—strange!"
For the first time I felt afraid—afraid for Athrun. I was afraid that Athrun's perfect image, which he himself had made others believe in, was going down the drain—he was suddenly going hysterical on me.
I straightened in my seat, clenched my fists and prepared myself to knock some sense into his head if he were to go crazy after a hysterical, hissy fit.
"And why are you making such a big deal out of it? You said you didn't love her like that even though you'd tried,"
The customary neutral face was immediately slid on as Athrun looked to his left side, shifting his eyes left and right for some unknown reason. I blinked.
After tying my thoughts with his point of view I blinked some more. He had to be kidding me. I leaned over the table with a nervous grin pulling at my lips and cupped one hand by my mouth, whispering, "A-Are you in love with her?"
He bowed his head in defeat and closed his eyes.
I immediately pulled myself back and let out the only intelligent word I could think of—"EH?"
There must be a mistake. HE had been in love with HER all this time?
He nodded pitifully for another unknown reason.
"Lacus just makes the loneliness go away. Once she makes our break up official, I'll be lonely again,"
I doubled over in surprise. "What? What are you talking about? Are you even the same Athrun Zala I've met in Primary school?"
His face hardened right before my eyes. "—I should've gone to Nicol. It seems you don't even care about whether I'm the one who drove Lacus into thinking about a breakup or not. I apologize for taking up your time,"
He then stood up abruptly, brushed some imaginary dust off his pants and sleeves –urgh, why do people always do that?—and turned his stiff back to me.
His words didn't really hit me, but it did make my heart shake for some reason.
"H-Hey, Athrun. You're already going?" I could've slapped myself silly for making such a lame remark.
I winced.
"Yes. Again, I apologize for taking your precious time," He said in a neutral voice at last as pulled open the back door of the Flavorite ice cream parlor—only to be targeted upon by—uh—milk shake?
END 1
TheNekoTalks:
- Shinigami – god of Death
- dengue – An illness that can be caught through a mosquito bite. Once the dengue mosquito pricks you, a virus slips into your blood circulation and starts making you sick. It's not really a light illness like a cold or something. Quite painful I heard, but I could be wrong too.
1) I don't know much about ice cream parlors, but I do know about ice cream :3 The names of the ice cream are real, but the description of how they look like is made up.
2) I apologize for making Athrun a bit weird :scratches head:... I thought; why not make him love Lacus even though it will turn to Athrun+Cagalli (I love this pairing, if you must know), but this story will resolve round Dearka, Tolle and Miriallia a lot.
3) I believe everyone already has an idea what will happen next :sighs: I'll try to keep it as spicy as I can though. And please forgive my weird style.
Thank you for taking your time reading this! I apologize for the long author notes.
:smiley face:cin