A/N : Not mine. All Kouga Yun's. I don't own Loveless. I don't make any money out of it.
Chapter 15
For the next few days, he spent each and every one of them with Soubi. Making memories, that's what he had always ever wanted to do. He used to believe memories would only last if there were physical testaments of past events. Like pictures.
But he had grown. Grown in maturity. Grown out of the fear of disappearing to make place for the first Ritsuka. Grown out of the fear of losing his memories of Soubi. He had been imprinted on his very soul, like a tattoo was on the skin. They were cut out for each other. They were destined to be together. He would recognize him whatever happened. They belonged together and he didn't need any photos of Soubi anymore. So, instead of shooting pictures, he enjoyed the days. He had Soubi give him a tour of the city, take him strolling in the parks, show him his favourite spots, explain paintings to him, take him to exhibitions, cook him delicious meals.
And still there was no word from Seimei. But he had noticed the clouding in his Fighter's face at the mention of his master. He had noticed how Soubi tensed and stiffened. How he suddenly held himself differently. How he would subtly hung his head lower and let his hair fall before his face. How he would imperceptibly increase the distance between them. So he kept silent and let him have his peace. He knew Soubi wasn't ready for a confrontation. They would fail if he forced a meeting with his brother. Seimei's hold on Soubi was so colossal it would be hard to break. But Soubi's disposition would be even harder. That's why he was relentlessly building up their bond again. Soubi wouldn't believe their string could overcome his chain to Seimei. He had to thicken it until its reality and power was sufficient to convince him to turn against his master. And Soubi had to trust him, as a partner, a Sacrifice, a support. So he trained him. And he knew Soubi was aware of it. He allowed him to despite all his doubts and fears. Soubi was so very pliant.
And each day he would say the same. He remember Soubi saying again and again, until he couldn't stand it anymore that he loved him. He was young then. Young, naive, untrained, scared and much more inexperienced. He hadn't understood that Soubi was trying to bond them, to strengthen them. He knew now. So each day, when he would leave he would reiterate it, like a mantra. "I forgive you, Soubi." And each time, his Fighter would look so guilt-ridden and sad he desperately wanted to hug him. But he couldn't, not yet. He wasn't ready to acknowledge it. He could barely accept that he had come back to claim him as Loveless. Declaration of love? Not going to happen anytime soon. But the feeling was there and it was shared, he was sure of it.
The mere memory of the first time they had touched... That very first day, when he had suddenly put his hands flat on Soubi's thighs and leant forwards, their bodies within a hair's breadth and their cheeks almost touching, he had felt alive and vibrant. Had felt the urge to kiss him. The tightening in his lower abdomen. He knew it. He was familiar with it. And the darkening of Soubi's pupils, he had recognized it too. The need was shared. The desire. But he had refrained. Instead, he had brought his lips to his ear and whispered, his warm breath wafting on his skin as teasing as any actual touch could have been, "I forgive you, Soubi." And he really had. He had already, long ago. But Soubi needed to hear it. Needed to believe it.
"I forgive you, Soubi."