(Drabble)
Title: Veritas
Author: Celeste
Pairing: RuHana
Rating: PG-13?
A/N: Written in second person narrative, this is my first time posting
a RuHana fic (I've written a MitHana before Ü Hi Wowie!). To the
RukawaLoveHanamichi members—please be gentle, Like what I've said to
K-chan, I've never lurked here before, nor contributed anything, but
I've been a member for a longer time than I've been in
SD_TensaiOnTheRun (which I'm like super active.). This is an beta-d
and written within a 7 hours between writing another fic. I hope y'all
like it.
Dedications: For Wowie and K-chan!! :waves to both: Sorry Wowie, I
haven't followed up yet on that MitHana. K-chan (or should I call you
Kristia?), I'm finally posting in the RukawaLoveHanamichi ML.
Veritas
You sit on a grassy hill, in a park near a basketball court. Your
breathing is even now, if not a little too deep than normal. Your
shirt was damp with sweat, and your hands were tender and almost numb
from handling the ball in an extent that would've killed an ordinary
human. The dribbles, the lay ups, your hands grasping the ring as you
have completed another dunk. You had practiced your skills in the
sport for nearly 5 hours straight; but to you, it was simply not
enough. You did not think that frustration would get you this far.
That frustration would drive you to the brink of madness. You also
didn't think that the frustration would be the outcome of falling in
love with him, a stupid bumbling idiot.
You lean your head back, and sprawl in the grass. You feel the tiny
green blades prickling you through your jersey, tickling your worn out
limbs and caressing your sweat-dampened cheek. You look at the sky, to
see cotton-candy clouds stream by, the light blue sky looking calm,
and you would've appreciated the beauty of it all, if not for the mere
image of one of the clouds looking like him .
You've pondered on everything far too much, and far too deep these
days, and it was becoming a head ache to deal with. You didn't want
think about it, you didn't really want to, but as it was, you were
honest, far too honest. And honesty was quickly becoming a bitch.
Because being honest meant that you had to be honest to yourself, and
being honest to yourself meant realizing your feelings and
emotions—not that you had any before…
Your reactions, or rather, the lack of it show how much you really
care. Which would be suffice to say:
Zilch…
Zip…
De Nada…
You've never cared for anyone other than yourself. That was the simple
fact, the simple truth that everyone tends to ignore. The truth that
everyone psychoanalyzes as some sort of abnormality you have carried
when you were young, with some sort of traumatic past that you had
experienced. Some even contribute it to the upbringing of your
parents. All because of the beauty that you held, the so-called appeal
that you held. They all wanted it, that elusive beauty, the so called
perfection, and it seemed that they wouldn't accept that you were born
to it, born to that lack of emotion.
No one gets a reaction from you.
No one.
Not a smile, not a twitch, not irritation not anything.
They want to blame it on anything there is to grasp because they did
not want such beauty to be so cold with the reason of: just because.
To you, it wasn't self-preservation. It wasn't out right selfishness.
You didn't waste time with the formalities. You don't bother your
conscience with mustering up false politeness and the trap of being
nice. The bullshit in life, where displaying emotion just seems to
take up years of a person's life, when a person could be doing
something else, like improving to perfection, and keeping the purity
of your passion…
Something you are doing, something you are accomplishing, something
you've wanted with an insatiable hunger all your life, until you (you
scoff to yourself-- of all people) had been side tracked.
Sidetracked by him. Sidetracked by a punch, a kick and then
that infamous head butt. It shouldn't have been any different from
other fights, those damn purposeless fights where your fists would be
in a dialogue rather than your voice. Yet when he fought you… It was
not the mere Neanderthal urge to prove that their fists were larger
than their brains. When he fought you, he fought with purpose, he
fought with intent, he fought for that damned idiotic girl that you
wish you could dunk in a ring and let her get stuck there for the rest
of her bimbo-ic life.
It wasn't supposed to happen, you weren't supposed to notice him, you
weren't supposed to notice his red hair, his chiseled face, those
damned hands and mocha eyes, and in all the places to notice someone,
it was in a stupid fight! And you got enthralled by a highly
idiotic person.
And when you entered that basketball court, you didn't want to believe
it was fate… and yet you thought that perhaps it was. You think,
this was a test, this was your test, if you don't react to him,
then you would still be the same With those thoughts came the
realization that for the first time, you didn't want to be honest to
yourself, he got a rise out of you, he got something out of you that
you've never given to anyone before:
Pure annoyance.
It might have been much to some. Some who think that you are
irritated with them (enjoying the reaction illogically), but in fact
you simply want to ignore them (Insert the Ru-Ka-Wa cheerleaders
sneezing simultaneously).
From that annoyance spawned reactions you didn't expect: smirks,
scowls, twitches and kicks. Childish payback, heated fights and snorts
of condescendence. It wasn't supposed to happen, none of it was
supposed to happen. You should have put a little more stock in it,
evaluated it a little more, but you didn't. And now it's biting you in
the ass… or maybe, clutching you in the heart.
You rake your hair with your hand, felt the sweat and strands beneath
your fingertips. You then sit up as the sun was shining herself at
your face, blinding you with brightness.
You then hear a voice, a voice you've known from the moment that
you've met. The voice that calls you baka and kitsune
in which your voice fervidly matches, with your evenly ice toned
do'aho.
You don't swivel your head to the general direction of that voice. You
didn't stare in the corner of your eye. Your body didn't make any
discernable move towards any direction. You didn't need to see him;
you've already memorized his face.
You don't flinch, twitch, but maybe, just maybe, your breath hitched.
Just maybe, your heart stopped at that pitch of voice that his voice
takes, where you know he's full of himself, of all his mediocre
accomplishments, of his idiotic need to impress her…
Then your body tenses, and you know the reason why. You know the
reason why his voice is so loud, so high, and so full of bravado. You
know the reason why he was talking about himself; extensively bragging
meager things that he has began learning to do. You knew why he was
boasting of future defeats, that of the large monkey, the porcupine
and the boss monkey. You knew the reason why the list didn't include
the stupid kitsune. You knew why-- he was with another
person…
That girl no less!! Damn stupid, idiotic, nuisance,
blind and bitch of a bimbo girl!
You then realize something that you have to be honest about once more.
He, without knowing, has gotten another reaction from you.
Jealousy.
This angered you more. You never wanted this, this stupid feeling
that's twisting you, squeezing you, leaving that feeling inside, that
feeling that you just want to push him against the wall, run your
hands on those soft red-headed curls, fiercely kissing him on his
lips, making him writhe against your body, moan your name…
Kiss him.
Touch him.
Move him.
Break him.
Love him.
Yet you are honest with yourself again, the feelings he roused against
you were numerous: irritation, jealousy, anger, lust… but the most
that you could think of, the most that can really hurt you, hurt
everything that you're doing, hurt everything you've accomplished, and
the one thing that's stopping you:
Fear…
You then stand up, straighten yourself, and simply walk away…
~*~
A/N: Well, how was it? Not good, I know, it was written in under seven hours, and I was writing another fic, sorry. Got the writer's block on my new fic brat.
I was not supposed to post this on ff.net, but there's a high shortage of RuHana fics, and a high abundance on SenRu fics (These are the fics that I generally despise, no offense). I'm just wishing RuHana fans would comeback and wave their banners or whatever.
:sigh:
Pls, review?
