Interlude – In Between
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"Death lies in the shadows just around the corner,
Black cloaks billowing and darkness taking over.
Life slipping past his grasp at every passing second,
White hands retracting and all light abscond.
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"Neither the past nor the future,
Never daring to venture a step further.
The past has long gone,
And the future yet to come.
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"Not then or there, but now,
Only here where he is allowed.
Caught up in the midst of things,
Forever in one place, as it seems."
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The sound of papers being shuffled around reached his ears before his stoic companion spoke up. "What's this about?"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "…What do you think?"
"It doesn't matter what I think." Ah, ever the direct one. Sarcasm did not work on people such as his 'friend.'
He sighed. "I wrote it."
"Oh." His friend's tone of voice, in addition to the slight rising of his eyebrows, indicated that he clearly thought otherwise.
Fine. He sighed once more, this time, with an exasperated edge to it. "…I didn't."
His friend looked up from his paper-shuffling and tilted his head to the side – he always did that when he was curious. "'You didn't' what?"
"I didn't write it. Someone else did. I just found it."
His friend resumed his previous task of rearranging papers. "Is that so…?"
Curiosity overcame him, and he just had to ask, "What do you think of it?"
"It's a sign of despondence and of being, simply put, 'stuck'. It cannot be judged fully merely by reading it, because the poem itself is caught in-between completion, and non-completion." His friend said all of this, as if he was talking about the weather and not making a morbid explanation of an equally morbid poem.
Fine, then. Seeing as it was a time to show his intellect, the black-haired half of the two occupants of the room racked his brains for something equally intelligent to say. "…So… it is up to the reader to finish it for the writer?"
The blond nodded distractedly. "Yes. Life or death? Light or dark? Past or future? I think it is a cry for help, a cry for someone to 'move' him because he cannot move himself."
It made sense that way. But the assessment was too…detailed. Shinn shrugged and went back to his own task. "Yes… I think you're right."
Rey's normally passive face broke into a strange smile. "Of course I am."
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Author's Notes: The poem is credited to moi. Sorry if it's not quite up to your standards. I have to admit, I'm no poet.
The next chapter is still…rough.
A stalling tactic? Hmmm… Maybe.
For those who are curious: yes, 'Rey' wrote the poem.
Thanks to those who reviewed: Kageharu Kaco, Dragon of the Burning Flame, koyuki-san, i Mel-chan i, and Termony. Thanks also to those who have read this fic.
And to Lia lostsmile, this chappie is for you!