Author's Note: This is the first chapter to a story that will probably stretch over the span of some time, as I've got a lot planned for it in the future. I've stuck with Loveless for going on nine years now, but I've never actually taken the time to write out an extensive story, so this will be my first! All warnings stand for themselves as there will be many mature elements scattered throughout all the chapters. Enjoy; and feel free to leave a review because that'd be lovely.
There are times when Soubi's absence beats like an angry bruise under soft flesh like an apple dropped onto hard tile and he's made many mental notes to forget about the blond whenever he can. He won't ever fully forget; wouldn't take Natsuo's advice at a whole because that would be giving up a part of himself that is entirely his. There is something chipping away at the back of his mind that sits and watches the clock in waiting for the time that the old Ritsuka may just appear and take his place, so that he can forget about everything- Soubi included, and yet, have no say in it at all.
Mother would be happy then, wouldn't she? Would Ritsuka be happy then too?
For the first couple weeks, the two Zero boys had latched onto him and either kept him busy back at Soubi's apartment, or when being in that place had become too much, they'd followed to his house and made themselves repetitively comfortable in his bedroom.
A distraction; it was all they'd proven to be and there came a time when Ritsuka found himself going to great lengths to avoid them. Skipping school and hiding out at the park worked well at first, until he'd found himself wandering aimlessly and ending up at a familiar picnic table. What would have been fond memories only burn harsh and unpleasantly in the cradle of his chest now.
It's really is pathetic, isn't it? That he should so realize just how much he relied on the elder male once he'd felt his loss? Ritsuka is an independent boy, but it had been nice to have someone to rely on, even for the time that he'd had Soubi at all.
And as for his brother? The thought of Seimei only burns worse than any other. Someone who he'd mirrored his every action after; had loved so unconditionally, and, ultimately, needed so greatly had only turned to leave a second time that felt far more permanent than his staged death had. The man that his brother is now, he doesn't recognize, and nothing makes sense anymore.
So now, Ritsuka keeps himself locked into his room and huddles under the cover of warm blankets with legs drawn up towards his chest and lashes lowered to kiss the tops of his cheeks with eyes clamped shut. It's easier this way, isn't it? And it will only get easier from here on out- right? He hasn't brought himself to cry since the graveyard because that would be admitting defeat and opening up an entire chasm of something withering and dying away within the beat of his sputtering heart. Youji and Natsuo still call his cell phone every evening in an attempt to get something- anything out of him at all, but he'd resorted to hiding the phone away in a drawer a long time ago.
It's safer there; next to his camera and a few select photos that he'd taken off the wall and stowed away with it, having lost any interest to look at them at all because it would only be followed with pain. Maybe he'd learned something too; he'd learned that it's best to avoid the things that cause us hurt and not to necessarily forget, but not to dwell on them at all. A valuable lesson when he'd exposed himself to so much over the past few years and maybe it was time for him to stop skirting along the outer lines and actually take control of what little he could.
Perhaps it was time that he moved on.
It's been a month and a half now and he's going back to school after his mother having had received more than enough phone calls to alert her that he hadn't been attending; resulting in a few injuries and another night tucked away in his room, awake at all hours until his alarm went off to notify him that it was time to actually go to school.
Today, he's caved and met up with the Zero boys- has been doing a lot of caving lately because it's easier to give in and surround himself with people. They don't bring up the absence of his Fighter anymore; they recognize that it's a subject better left to die out and bury itself beneath salted ground on its own. When at first, they'd been hard-pressed to find any leads on Seimei at all, he'd finally broke and asked that they stop. After all, both Seimei and Soubi had left on their own accord; and wasn't that saying something? If they wanted to come back they would, but for now, Ritsuka could move on and stop trying to worry all the time over things that he quite simply had no control over.
Ice cream. It sits dripping down his waffle cone and Ritsuka brings digits to a kitten-pink tongue as to try and alleviate some of the stickiness, while Youji and Natsuo argue back and forth about something that'd been discussed in class that day; trivial, more than likely. He hadn't realized that he'd started to tune them out, until Natsuo's voice cuts hard through the fog.
"Oi. What are you doing over there? You're just making a mess."
"Ah." A cross look and Ritsuka reaches across the table for a few napkins; though he could certainly do without the boy's tone. There's a soft pause and the boys eye him over their ice creams. They're dissecting him and the Aoyagi boy is feeling particularly uncomfortable.
"Okay, well, I'm going home," he snaps, feeling rather annoyed as he gathers his mess and stands, leaving the two Zeros looking a mixture of both confused and irritated. A couple protests and he thinks he can hear the sound of Youji slamming an angry fist against the table behind him as he exits the ice cream parlor and leaves them until the next time he caves in to a 'play-date.'
The water is hot and it runs down the lines of his body, before slipping and making a jump towards the shower floor where it swirls soft down the drain. Hands lather soap over the dips and dives of his body, before he shampoos his hair and rinses; pulling back the curtain and stepping out into a steamy bathroom. Alone time; he has a lot of it lately, but the shower seems to bring about a sense of peace that not many other things did.
It'd always been that way. He can remember a time when Seimei would usher him into the bathroom for a long bath together after their mother had gone off on a rampage and the house had been left in a static silence. The steam and the quiet and, ultimately, the company of his elder brother had been the perfect medicine.
It's only when he passes by the mirror that he realizes just how tall he's getting. He's certainly hit a growth spurt and while features remain still soft and young, he's grown a couple inches that have only managed to make him look all the thinner and maybe even a little on the lanky side. It's a good thing, he thinks. Seimei was always tall, wasn't he? Ritsuka can feel a subtle impatience; wishing he could just grow the rest of the way. Would others take him more seriously if he did? If his features were to chisel out and if his voice lowered more? He's still soft and youthful... and he still hates it.
He'll turn to reach for a white towel that hangs from the rack on the wall; goes to drape it over his form when eyes catch the sight of the mirror behind him, just over the bow of his shoulder. An angry and violent tug at his heart very suddenly, it skips wildly and he's twisting around to get a better look at the appearance of harsh letters that stand start over the smooth of porcelain skin.
LOVELESS... it is written there, vertically, over the line of his spine; starts at the base of his neck and stops at the start of a black feline tail.
Oh. There is a moment of shock, just before realization sets in and he's eyeing over the name seriously in the mirror. His name; his true name. He'd forgotten all about it- had forgotten that he should have been expecting it to show up soon and maybe he's not really allowed to be surprised. However, aside from this, there is a guilt and a disgust that settles into the pit of his stomach. A hatred for what he is and what he was born to be along with complete, utter denial because he's not ready to accept what this really means for him. Loveless, his true nature.
A hard swallow, Ritsuka can feel bile rise from his stomach and he only has a second to rush towards the toilet, before he vomits over the basin.
...
After the queasy turn of his stomach stops and he manages to shift out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, he makes sure to avoid any mirrors and slips into his pajamas in order to ready himself for bed. There's something different in the air; something off and he can feel it right away, but maybe he's just on edge due to his new discovery.
Ritsuka recognizes what the finding of his name means for him and what it means for someone else out there who hasn't quite found him yet, and a certain someone who isn't really making an effort to reunite with him at all. This is a definite line drawn in the sand; a mark that confirms that he is different and that he and Soubi were never really made for one another to begin with. And Loveless' real Fighter? They're out there somewhere and they're undoubtedly been on high alert; perhaps even in search for their Sacrifice.
A worried mind, Ritsuka paces around his bedroom, before his eyes fall onto something else that manages to elicit a newer fear. His cell phone sits on top of his desk, open and certainly not where he'd placed it, tucked away in the drawer of his desk. Had his mother come into his room? Checking the doorknob, he deduces that is can't possibly be her and that he'd kept the door locked since he'd gotten home. His window, however? Unlocked, as usual. Perhaps he left it unlocked now due to habit, but he'd never expected it to be a problem.
On edge and heart hammering loudly in his chest, the male wanders over to lock the window and digs teeth into his lower tier; a nervous hum overtaking his everything and swallowing him whole. Is there a chance he's in danger?
The loud ring of his cell phone elicits a violent start and Ritsuka jumps, gaze torn over his shoulder, before he rushes over to allow hues to hone in on the name that the screen reads. He almost doesn't believe it; he wants to slam it shut and ignore the call, convince himself that he's simply losing his mind, but instinct has him reaching out to grab the phone and answer; brings it to his ear without saying a word.
"Ritsuka."
And he recognizes the voice; hasn't heard it since the blond had left him to fend for himself, but it's still imprinted itself upon the white noise of his brain. He can't bring himself to answer; can't find the words to fit the curl of his tongue because nothing makes sense anymore and the world is crumbling soft and swift around him like the last and final goodbye.
"Ritsuka. Don't hate me. Say you don't. Will you?"
The words cut sharp and he simply stands there, stunned, with phone in hand and held tight against his ear as he listens for even the softest draw of breath on the other end. How long has it been since he's heard Soubi's voice? And why now? Why call him now and request something so much of him? Of course, Ritsuka doesn't have it in him to hate the elder male, but he also doesn't have it in him to admit that. And so, he lies. He lies to hurt Soubi and to maybe find some peace after all this time without him having torn him up inside.
"I do. Goodbye, Soubi." Click.
Just like that, Ritsuka ends the call and will finally collapse to the floor and allow himself to cry again after too long of keeping it bottled tight behind the cage of his ribs.