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| semper memento |
you sleep for what like eternity, face white and blue lips
i wait beside you like it is the end, even though it is not
memories are always been that fleeting, that short-lived
yet we try to rake over the ashes, me and him and her and us
but at some point we forget that it never rains but it pours
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we meet, we touch, yet never collide but i hope you will—
always remember to remember?
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author's babbling and a little bit warnings:
Hello minna-san *waves shyly*
I'm back, I'm back! I'm back to tell you all that I'm still alive and breathing, though my soul is half-half and don't make me start with my sanity (TuT). I'm going to warn you, this chapter is going to be all mushy and feely stuff. Need to work with their feeling, somehow. It's a really, REALLY hard thing to do because…. Well, to put it bluntly, both of them are emotionally stumped (no, I'm not kidding, it's the truth, y'know?).
Anyway, here's the fifth chapter! It's such a surprise that I can update this fast (I mean, just in eight days?), I thought it's going to take weeks but well, you all are such a dearie thank you for the feedbacks because without them I couldn't make this chapter a reality~ Enjoy reading! (OwO)
disclaimer:
I do not own Owari no Seraph or Yuu (damn) or Shinoa (double damn) because I'm very much sane, thank you.
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Yuichiro was standing beside the glass window; slender fingers against the transparent surface as his eyes wandering outside, into the starlit sky and smiling moon which sowed on the midnight blue yonder. The pearly white sphere loomed above him like a candle illuminating a pitch black room, its silvery light bathed his body with lustrous fluorescent glow. Tonight by no doubt was beautiful, remarkably so, and yet; he still couldn't stray his thoughts away from her.
From her—Shinoa—a girl he didn't know how to feel about.
( what do you feel about her? )
He leapt back, balling his hand into a fist that his nails grazed across his palm, and it brought forth pain throughout his nerves; but he paid it no attention and instead, he tightened his grip even more.
It drew blood. It hurt.
But it's okay, he mused. It was okay. It was better than—
He bit his lower lip when her image flashed in front of his eyes like a movie.
The pain was better than seeing her face inside his mind again. She was crying, sinking down to her knees. She was twisting, and scrunching, and wrenching into a mess—her agonized sobs were painful, and excruciating, and downright broken, and he—
Yuichiro couldn't bear it.
The pictures came and passed by, her and her again—always her. It was always her. Why always her?
Shinoa was different, he tried to tell himself. Shinoa was special. Shinoa was significant; important. He needed her like he needed air, he needed her like he needed water. She was a breather, his place to lean on, and without her, everything changed. Without her, he was incomplete.
So, what was she to him, exactly?
Shinoa was a twinkling laugh which reiterated inside his ears like chiming bells; a blurred personification of his lost, painful childhood. Shinoa was streaks of sunset overlapping behind his dull curtains; shone with dimmed light, golden strips on his pale, translucence skin. Shinoa was a desperate cry of please open your eyes, and wake up please please please wake up; a river of pelting teardrops; two pairs of trembling, delicate arms around his chest. Shinoa was a lucid proof of normality; of sarcastic smiles and biting jokes and cutting edge. Shinoa was home.
But Shinoa was also a girl he didn't know how to feel about.
( what do you feel about her? )
It was confusing—he was confusing. Everything seemed like a monochrome frames against his eyes, but when she came into the picture; it was suddenly seven colors and vibrant hues. He didn't understand it, not even a bit. Shinoa was not like Mika; Shinoa was not like Guren. Mika was family; Guren was family. Shinoa was family, and at some point, she stayed as only family.
But then came the time when she was not.
Not a family, but something, much, much more than that. So what was she?
( at some point between his rhetorical questions, a fleeting phrase flashed across his mind. it screamed care-love-smile-love-you-her, but he blocked his ears and tried again; a second time; another answer, an easy answer which he could understand, please? )
Shinoa was different, he told himself again stubbornly. And he, Yuichiro, was also different.
Yuichiro wondered what changed between them.
No, he wondered what changed within him.
Before, it was crystal clear. He was a boy; who'd lost everything, and broken, and fractured, and damaged, but then he was granted a second chance to love and to be loved. He was a boy; who'd been gone and disappeared into nothing, but resurrected back, and patched, and glued together. He was a boy; who'd scorned bonds and family—
But now, he was the one who desperate enough to do anything to have them back.
To have Shinoa back.
The boy fluttered his eyes shut, the feel of her warmth lingered over his skin like a lover's caress.
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—semper memento—
always remember
"He is confused, just like a child who sees the world for the first time. This whole thing is new for him—an alien kind of thing, in which he can't determine whether to run like hell, or catch her inside a deathlike grip and never let go."
"He does not want to change anything. It scares him, the changes. But no matter how much he tries to deny it, they've changed."
"They are too far to come back, too deep to resurface, too close to bring the distance again."
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"She is definitely precious for him."
"He said it before, she is different, and now he is at a loss as to what to do."
-Kimizuki Shiho-
the fifth memory
[heaven lies, hell awaiting]
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"I'm going to see her." Yuichiro announced blankly, and in response they stared at him like he'd sprouted two heads. The three-fourths of them shared a look, he was asking the same thing like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. Silence fell among them, before a raw of agitated sighs exited their mouths in unison. How many times he'd ask again until it drilled into his mind completely that he could not meet her now?
"You can't, idiot." Kimizuki exhaled, giving him a weak glare. "We're banned from her room, remember?" he shook his head in exasperation.
"So?" Yuichiro drawled back, lifting an eyebrow. "You think I care?" he growled.
"Baka…" The only girl inside the room frowned, "We can't visit her. We've said it a countless times before, Guren-chūsa didn't give us the permission to access her room, and on top it all you're still healing." she sighed, tired. "Please pay more attention at your health, that wound is not something to laugh of. You need to rest for the time being."
"You think I care?" The boy repeated again, fixing them a harsh glare before proceeding to stand from his hospital bed. "It's enough waiting on my part. I'm going to talk to Guren again." he said stubbornly, walking with wobble feet to be stopped by Yoichi's hand.
"You have to rest, Yuu-kun." he murmured softly, as if talking to a child. "We will ask Guren-chūsa, but you have to stay." he persuaded the persistent boy, tugging on his arms gently.
"You don't understand Yoichi." Yuichiro stressed out, "I need to see her." he rasped out, his eyes pleading at him. At them.
Mitsuba made an annoyed sound at the back of her throat, "How many times we need to tell you that he—"
"If he ignores me like he did you, I will take drastic measures." The emerald eyed boy interrupted her. "Even it means I have to personally drag that idiot from his office with my bare hands." he said coldly, to which they responded with widening eyes and gaping mouths.
He was so unbelievable that it's ridiculous.
"Why are you—" Mitsuba paused, biting her lip. "I've had enough of this! You always—always so stubborn!" she lashed out at him, finally fed up by his antics. "Shinoa is in coma! Even if you can see her, there's nothing you can do besides watching her sleeping like a corpse!" she glared ferociously at him, hundreds of feelings weighing on her senses. "There's—there's nothing…!"
Yuichiro unconsciously clenched his palm until his knuckles turned pale, but he didn't make any move to stop the raging blonde. Seeing this—this blank exterior upon his face only made something inside Mitsuba snapped from an unknown tension.
"Say something you bastard…" she staggered forward, closing her eyes tight. "I'm telling you there's nothing you can do beside watching!" her veins pulsed against her neck, "NOTHING AT ALL!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Her outburst left a tangible taste of bitterness in the air. Yoichi and Kimizuki stilled, as torrents of fury, sorrow, and agony mingled into one; crushing them under its heavy pressures, their eyes never leaving the frozen boy who was hiding his eyes under his bangs. It was not too visible, but they could see his shoulder trembling with a plethora of emotions they didn't want to know about. He was shaking badly, whether in anger, or desperation, but one thing they knew—
She had crossed the line.
"M-Mitsuba-san please—" The meek boy held her back from going further, but the girl shrugged off his hand, harshly, from her shoulders.
"I've had enough Yoichi! It's him the one who needs to understand!" she spat venomously without moving her eyes from Yuichiro, "This idiot needs to know that he has to stop this! It's always her! Shinoa this, Shinoa that—" she blinked back the tears when pain shot her heart like a bullet. "Always, always her." she chuckled bitterly, a rasp in her voice. "You're hurt too!" she paused to catch her breath, "Think about yourself you stupid idiot! Don't worry about her when you're still hurting! Worry about yourself!"
Kimizuki gritted his teeth, even though he knew that she was just trying to help, her words were not something he wanted Yuichiro to hear. That boy had enough pain on his plate, had enough sorrow to last for a lifetime; he didn't need her to add salt on his gaping wounds.
The bespectacled boy bristled, walking to her direction, planning to shut her up before it was too late. Because dammit, this was getting out of hand. "Mitsuba you need to sto—"
"—you need to see that you can do nothing to help her!" Mitsuba ignored Kimizuki's warning, fixing her eyes solely into the bowing, silent boy. Her mind was a jumbled mess of grief and rage, it was screaming at her to stopstopstop please just stop, but she couldn't, the words flew from her mouth like honed razor, harsh and unforgiving. "There's nothing! You heard me? Noth—"
"Mitsuba." The bespectacled boy snapped, his tone uncharastically cold. "It's enough." he hissed low, manhandling her roughly by the arm.
"Wha—Kimizuki let me go!" Mitsuba struggled veraciously against him, "He needs to—"
"Shut up."
Their hearts stopped beating for a moment when his acrid, grating hiss, interjected her words with such an unnaturally toneless voice. Yuichiro was standing stiffly on his toes, his eyes still hiding behind his curtain of midnight colored tresses; but they could feel the raw, and chilled rage which hidden from their views.
It was frightening.
Yuichiro was frightening.
Yoichi began to bit his lip hard, worried that he would explode and rage, "Y-Yuu-kun—"
"It's true that all I can do is watching." he cut him off, tonelessly. "It was the same back then, I was watching—just… watching." he croaked out, voice raspy and raucous from his throat, as though something scratched on its flesh. "But you—you don't… you are the one who don't understand." the said boy whispered through the air, successfully shocking them all with his restrained calmness. "You don't understand anything."
Mitsuba gulped down a knot which formed behind her throat. "I—I'm…" she cringed when she realized what she'd done. "I'm just—I don't mean to—"
"You're not there." Yuichiro stated evenly, breaking off his calm posture completely. "You're not there with us—with me. You didn't see her drenched in blood, fresh blood." he emphasized cruelly, and saw the girl blanched from a sudden nausea. He smiled, a twisted kind of smile. "You didn't see her crying in utter anguish. You didn't see her writhing and twisting and trembling with so much agony—so much pain." he paused, "You didn't see her smiling; it was so broken a-and sad and fuck she was—she w-was begging," he chocked on his own words, the tears pin-pricked and hot against his eyelids.
"She was begging to be killed. Begging." His words were nothing but a whisper, a gentle, soft caress to ears that she'd almost missed it.
But the thing was, they caught it. Loud and clear and unmistakably strong.
It sounded like a death march, if they were to be honest.
"And then—and then he… that stupid Guren told me that he promised her to—" Yuichiro chuckled raucously, bringing his hands up to cup his searing, burning eyes. "How laughable, he.… he just…stood there, his fucking sword aimed at her heart and if I weren't fast enough—" he took a sharp intake of breath. "If I weren't fast enough she would be dead—she would be fucking dead!" he jerked his head upward, and what greeted them was not something they could ever forget for the rest of their life.
His eyes—his beautiful pair of jade orbs, was brimming with unshed tears; as if the mere memories of that nightmarish day hurt him deep into his heart. His eyes were filled with raw emotions; so much sorrow, so much pain and agony—and in that moment of quietude he seemed so transparent, so lucent, just like a thin layer of glass as one intense feeling pasted clear across his face.
Pain, that was.
Yuichiro was in pain.
There was no word uttered. They were speechless, at least Yoichi and Mitsuba did. Kimizuki was there, after all. He knew, he knew about it all. He saw it with his own eyes, heard it with his own ears, felt it with his own tongue and skin. There was nothing he could name, which could compare to what Yuichiro was feeling right now. There was nothing. He was the most hurt. The most broken from them all.
"I couldn't…." they snapped back when he talked again, this time more mellowed than before. "I couldn't protect her—I promised her that she would be okay, that she would survive but goddammit I can't–s-she is—" he inhaled sharply, "You don't understand—you don't understand that I need to see her. I need to be there for her. You don't understand…" he shook his head weakly, "You don't…. understand…" he whispered, throwing his head sideways.
"Yuu-kun…." Yoichi breathed quietly, his eyes began to burn when he watched his friend suffered between his own memories. "I'm sorry…. we—we don't…"
"Damn it." The black haired boy suddenly accursed under his breath, low and vicious, shocking them all. A chocked sound exited his mouth as he lifted his hands upward, wiping his eyes desperately while condemning the flames behind his eyelids. "Dammit!" he spat again, then stormed to the door before they could even blink.
"YUU-KUN!" Yoichi screamed, ready to run after the boy but a hand stopped him, holding him back. He spun his head to stare into a pair of blank magenta eyes.
"Leave him be." Kimizuki said evenly, looking so, so tired behind his ages. "He needs this, believe me." he raked a hand through his head. "Now we need to—"
"I'm sorry…" they shifted their eyes to Mitsuba, who was sagging down onto the cold, tiled floor; sobbing continuously whilst tears marred her flushed cheeks. "I'm so sorry…"
"Mitsuba-san…." The brown haired boy pried his hand from Kimizuki's, his gaze softening into warm chocolate as he crouched over the bawling girl. "Come on…." he gripped her shoulder with feather-like touch. "Don't sit there, okay? It's cold…" he pulled her gently onto her feet.
"I'm sorry…. I'm sorry I didn't mean to…" she sobbed again, the tears blurred her sight into mosaics. She didn't mean to hurt him. She was—she cared. She cared about him so much, so why couldn't he see that?
"We know. We understand…" Yoichi whispered, rubbing her back soothingly. "I'm sure that Yuu-kun also feels the same…"
"I'm sorry… so… rry…"
Her painful cries echoed inside the still room, just like shattering glass, and Kimizuki tossed his gaze away from the pitiful sight to the endless expanse of azure sky outside; his heart weighed down with worry for their missing comrade.
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"Come in." he called out, arranging his documents half-heartedly. The silent, squeaking-like sound entered his earlobe and he winced a little. There was no sound, and he frowned a little. "What is it?" he asked, impatient, while tapping his pen on the wooden table, still not taking his eyes off from the heaps of paper works in front of him.
"Where is she?"
Guren dropped his pen abruptly.
"….Yuu." he lowered his document from his view, and just like he'd imagined, the boy with tufts of black hair much like his own was standing before him, his eyes strangely void and hollow as he looked at him with a passive glance.
"Where is she?" he repeated again, this time harsher.
Guren swallowed, hard. "I don't know what are you talking about."
"Don't fucking lie to me. I'm not stupid." Yuichiro spat out, "Tell me where she is!"
"I won't." The man's gaze hardened like stone, harsh lines upon his face. "I suggest you return to your room right now before I call the nurse to forcefully drag you away."
"Don't fuck with me!" The boy roared, grabbing Guren's collars down to level his eyes with his. "Where is she? Where did you hide her?!"
"It's none of your business!" Guren said through gritted teeth. "Now let go, brat. I'm not going to tolerate your stupid behavior more than this." The violet eyed man moved his face closer, hissing sharply.
"Why you—" Yuichiro wobbled back, flinching under the man's icy glare. "Is it not enough that you've kept her hidden for weeks? Denying her frie—family from seeing her?" he accused, balling a tight fist. "I'm fed up with your lies and secrets. What should I do to see her, what should I do? Tell me." The young boy asked, almost desperate, and for the first time in his life he was lowering himself down willingly.
( but what was pride, when he lived in such a twisted world? )
"You little—" Guren exhaled, massaging his forehead tiredly. "Goddammit Yuu, what part of it that you don't understand?" he said exasperatedly, "I'm not going to keep her huddled in forever! But we're trying to hide her, to protect her from the higher ups here, we can't act recklessly. When everything is finally in order, I will let you visit her—but not now, Yuu. Not now."
"Oh, so you're trying to play innocent now. Protect her?" Yuichiro laughed, a frighteningly cold laugh. "Remind me again who the hell tried to kill her back then?" he spat rhetorically, scathingly.
That shut him up. The violet eyed man flinched under the boy's stare. Hearing his bitter tone and cutting edges made Guren sick on his stomach.
He wanted to laugh so badly, but at the same time he wanted to cry too, because no matter how many times he tried to turn his eyes off the glaring resemblance between him and that (unknowing and happy, he could be happy—) boy, the semblance was too much to ignore.
Seeing him, with that tousled raven hair and burning green orbs, so desperate to meet a person he held dear, so honest, so, so honest made Guren remember his past self. Shorter, snarkier, and full of secret, he had been like that too, once upon the time.
But it was a long time ago, long, long time ago when the girl he loved the most still existed.
How he had been happy, so happy, even though it was only for a moment.
( late evenings and sunday mornings in his little porch, with sunset overlapping against their liquid gold skin, smearing them warm. they sat there, leaning to the wall, a gap existed in between. there was only a few words exchanged, they did not talk much, silence was infinite for them, after all.
but there was smile. littlest of smile and reluctant grin, all mixed together with small, weak laugh but he thought, he thought that it was a laugh, anyway.
it was a laugh, and even though it disappeared as fast as it came, he really did miss those halcyon days with her. )
"What is this? Why the sudden mute?" Yuichiro grinned cruelly, chuckling a little. Guren forced himself to abandon those bittersweet images from his head. Hating himself for remembering her, hating himself to remember in the first place. "I'm not wrong, am I? Don't be such a fucking hypocrite, Guren. I hate people like that the most."
"Stop it, Yuu." Guren sighed, raking a hand through his messy charcoal hair, mussing it up in frustration. "Stop trying to reel me in. I'm not going to snap, or get angry, or whatever you want me to do—"
BLAM!
"Damn you." Yuichiro hissed, finally lost it, backing the man to the wall behind him roughly, watching as he coughed several times, before gulping down air into his empty lungs as much as possible. Yuichiro knew that it was wrong of him to do this, but he couldn't help it. He needed answers.
Guren cracked one eye open, his face twisted in slight pain, but he didn't make any move to free himself from the iron grip upon his shoulders. He just stared back at him, the raging boy, with contempt clear inside his dark eyes.
"Damn you." Yuichiro repeated again. "Can't you spare me from your lies? Watching me like this, suffering, broken—is it not enough for you?" he asked, hurting. "What do you want from me, Guren? Pretend that everything is fine? That you've done a right thing? Pretend that it's all illusion? Huh? What do you want from me?" he squeezed out, face twisted in agony.
The man sighed, so tired and wore out. "Nothing." he said. "I want nothing but your understanding. Is that answered your question?"
"No." he shook his head negatively, "Not a fucking bit. Tell me," he paused, "Why did she beg you to kill her?"
"Because she knew that it was a lost case." he robotically answered, ambiguous.
"What lost case?" Yuichiro stressed out, feeling his stomach swirled with nausea. "Even Yoichi came back, so why couldn't she?"
Guren froze, looking as if he were in some sort of daze, before he snapped out from his little episode. "It's not my story to share." he said solemnly.
Silence fell among them; the tic-tac-tic sound of a constant ticking clock filled the tense stillness with mild beats. Sunlight blared over the sallow, swaying curtains; the smell of washed-out clothes and fresh picked flowers swarmed their senses as the wind blew soothingly. Time seemed frozen as their eyes captured each other (green to violet; austere gaze to somber eyes), and it was deafening, the silence, but it was supposed to be like that, wasn't it?
Yuichiro released his grip, leaning back into his previous position, seemingly old, so, so old in his younger days (sixteen summers was his age; how could someone being so young yet old at the same time?). Guren watched, tentatively, as the boy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a chocked cries passed his quivering lips in short gasps.
"Yuu," Guren broke the silence, then said; "I'm sorry."
The jade eyed boy chuckled, a throaty kind of sounds, and gave him a bittersweet smile. "Are you happy now?"
"Yuu," he sighed, "Please."
"No, don't give me that. Just—just let me see her, alright?" he begged, relenting. "I'm not going to press this matter anymore, just let me see her."
"I can't do that." The man muttered. "You have to understand this. You have to wait." he paused, "You do understand, don't you?"
Yuichiro bit his lower lip, trembling, his gaze turned downcast. "You're the one who don't understand…" he shook his head, "I have to see her…"
"Yuu please…" Guren closed his eyes, sighing for what like an umpteenth times. "Listen, alright…. You can't see her now, but I promise I wi—Oh come on," he groaned when the boy's expression turned even sourer, a frown almost permanently stitched on his lips. Dammit, he hated that sheer misery on his face. It was like he'd killed his puppy or something. "Ugh, fine. Fine I'll let you meet her."
Yuichiro's eyes instantly lighted up like a Christmas tree. "Are you serious—"
"Yes. Yes dammit… I'm sure I'm going to regret it later…" the latter was muttered under his breath, "Just—listen to what I'm going to tell you, alright? And when I said listen, I mean really listen." he emphasized.
"You have my words!" he chirped like a toddler who'd just won a lottery. His eyes actually sparkled that Guren had to cringe from the… sparky-ness.
"Uh… good." Guren cringed again, making a mental note to pull out a sack of drinks he'd stacked under his desk for emergencies' sake. This is one hell of an emergency though, he thought darkly. "Now let's—"
"—go!" without even waiting for him to finish his sentence, Yuichiro zoomed straight to the door, knocking over a few utensils on his merry way.
"What the…?" The violet eyed man's jaw slacked from its hinges, staring after the dust the boy had left by. "I can't believe him…" he said disbelievingly, almost astonished, before he followed the boy's trail. "That stupid, stupid prat!" he cursed.
Guren moaned into his hand, and whilst he was running like a madman craving for blood, he wondered if it was really a smart choice to say yes in the first place.
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It's like a light switch, Yuichiro thought.
The way his happiness suddenly evaporated from his every being when his eyes landed on her pale, lithe frame, which was lying on the white hospital's signature bed. Eyes closed and skin pale, he hated the wretched picture with all he had, but what exactly he expected besides that, really?
Yuichiro let out a breath he'd held, and put his eyes on her again.
Pretty, that she was. Shinoa was pretty, she always was and he couldn't (and wouldn't) deny that. Her exquisite lavender strands fanned around her like a halo, whilst honeyed light darted through the gap between the curtains into her form. The specks of golden created a beautiful sight when the glorious light bathed her with luminous gleam, its shade complimenting her porcelain skin. She looked like an exquisite painting, alluring in its own way, graceful, but also momentary and frangible.
The boy walked forward, forcing his feet to move, and move as his heart flattened beneath his ribcage. As he carried his steps nigh, he could see her deathlike state, clearly, with his own eyes. She looked… sick. Her body was unnaturally thin, the skin of her face clung to her cheekbones tightly—and her wrists, god her wrists were too delicate looking, too frail, and he was afraid that they would break from a mere touch.
Yuichiro moved closer, but still maintained his distance. She was sleeping soundly, her chest heaving up and down together with her soft breaths. She looked almost peaceful, content, no; that's not the word. Shinoa looked dead.
He felt his chest tightened at the thought. Seeing her closed eyes, it made him feel helpless, powerless. When she would wake up? He wanted to see her again, alive and healthy, and not like this, not battered and bruised. He hated seeing her hurt.
Gulping down a lump which formed behind his throat, he pulled a chair beside her bed, then seated himself on it. Still maintaining his distance, not too close, but not too far either, he hovered after her still form. For a moment he was tempted to touch her hand, to curl his fingers around hers, but then he pushed the longing away. Settling his hand on her bed, his palms only an inch from hers, he took in a calming breath, long and tired, before he opened his mouth and began to talk.
"Hey, Shinoa…"
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"Yuu-san…" Shinoa whispered, eyes widening in shock as his voice nudged her ears gently. There was no mistaking that voice of his, Shinoa knew his voice, it was definitely him. But how?
"You're in coma, princess. Not in after life. Of course you can hear him." As if he were reading her mind, the cerulean eyed demon snorted when he saw her gaping like a fool. "You know the drill. I think he is trying to tell you something. Just hear him out, will you?" he said, rhetorically.
"H-Huh?" she blinked her eyes in confusion, "B-But how? I mean, I'm in co—"
"In coma, yes?" Kiyoshi waved his hand nonchalantly. "You're unconscious, but it doesn't mean that your brain stopped working altogether. Just enjoy the ride, yeah? Now, shush. I'm going to leave the two of you alone, enjoy your time alright?" he grinned, sharp, and then without further notice he vanished into thin air.
"Eh?" she squeaked, stupefied. "Where did he go—"
"Shinoa… I'm…"
She froze when he started to talk again, Kiyoshi was forgotten completely. Her heart began to beat like a block thrown down the stairs. It'd been a long time since she heard him talk. Such a long time that she even forgot how to breathe properly when his voice brushed across her ears in gentle breeze.
"Shinoa… how are you?" His voice sounded foreign to her, it was a little rougher on the edges, and also a bit scratchier than she'd used to. "I am… I'm okay. Still healing—but, I'm…. okay. We are safe, all of us, if you are wondering."
"Yuu-san…" she murmured quietly. She could imagine him smiling down at her right now. He was still a softhearted ball of rough skin, still achingly gentle, suave, when he wanted to. Ah, Shinoa thought, after all this time wondering, worrying, lamenting about his state, finally, finally she knew that he was safe. That he was alive and well, and for her, it was enough.
"Things are so boring here…" Shinoa heard him chuckling softly, and another realization dawned on her; she missed his laugh too. "We are on unspecified break until you wake up, and Guren's being a jerk as always so… so I'm sorry that you've been waiting alone all this time," He paused for a moment and she hitched a breath. "You must be lonely, aren't you? I'm sorry…"
"Yuu-san…." The bronze eyed girl blinked back tears, why he always managed to make her looked like a gooey, mushy ball? "You don't have to say sorry you baka…" Because, he was here, wasn't he?
"I…" She waited for him to continue, intertwining her fingers together. "I'm sorry." he chuckled again, and she bit her lower lip in return, drawing blood. "I'm sure that you are sick of hearing sorry all the time, but… b-but I don't know what to say anymore… you are here, but at the same time you are not, aren't you?"
"I'm here Yuu-san…." she said between quivering mouth, her hands were itching to touch him, to feel him, to make him see that she was there, beside him, with him. "I'm right here…" she whispered, softly.
"You know what? I have been thinking." he began evenly, "About you. About me. About us." Another pause, it made her a little bit worried. What did he want to achieve by saying all of this to her? "It's a little bit confusing, so bear it with me, will you?" Shinoa smiled a bit at this, he sounded so unsure, so embarrassed. She could just picture him grinning like a dork he was, and it made her longed for him even more.
"I don't want to lie… especially to myself." He sounded so determined, so hell-bent that she grew even more curious. "A while ago, someone asked me about you. 'How do you feel about her?'….. he said, just like that."
Shinoa wanted to ask him what his answer would be, she wanted so badly, but her voice was caught on her throat.
"I told him the truth, of course." A pause, "I told him that, 'I don't know' and then, he told me to think about it again." After that he gave out a laugh, kind of sheepishly, she mused. "I was such a moron, wasn't I? But my answer hasn't changed."
She blinked owlishly, what did he mean by that?
"I'm still not sure about my feelings. Even after two weeks of moping around I'm still at loss. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. This whole what-do-you-feel business makes my head hurts. But there's something I'd realized—" he inhaled, a sharp intake of breath. "You're different."
"D-Different…?" Shinoa felt a burning sensation swept by her face, painting it bright red. What did he mean by different? She was… she was Shinoa, wasn't she? He told her himself, that she was family, so why? Why she was the only one who was different?
"I don't know why, but for me, you are different from everybody else." The heat inside her cheeks intensified again, much, much more than before. Why he was telling this to her? "I don't want to lose you… you are… important, to me. Seeing you hurt, seeing you in pain—it hurt me. But… but you—"
It hurt me too, she wanted to say. Shinoa bowed her head, knitting her eyebrows together. It was the same with her too, when she saw him back then, lying on his own pool of blood, gasping for air as red coating his uniform crimson; she had lost it, hadn't she?
"You… haven't told me anything, have you? You're always like that, shouldering everything by yourself. Never complaining, always relenting, even when it hurt—" he paused, and she held her breath. "You remind me of Mika, sometimes. You stubborn head, why didn't you tell me that you were hurting?"
"Yuu-san…" she whispered, wanting to apologize to him. Shinoa knew that her action was wrong. She refused to make him worry over her problems, but it didn't justify her actions (her ignorance), it didn't mean that she had to lie either.
"You're always, always hiding behind your mask, hoping that no one could see, could get past that facade of yours." The air around her turned somber, and she thought, she thought, how right he was. "I wonder, did you ever smile for real? It's always been so fleeting, your smile, that I don't know what to make of it."
Hiding, huh? Shinoa couldn't deny that. She was a Hiiragi after all, mask and deception were something she'd learn since birth. And lying, pretending; they were so easy, so darn easy than saying the truth. But she'd always been perfect, her mask was perfect, so why could he see past that facade of hers?
Perhaps it was her smile; her smile was anything but faked. Fleeting, yes, but not faked. Because he was the one who made her life so worthwhile, so how could she not smile from the bottom of her heart for him?
"Maybe that's why I always looked at you funny…. because there's something I couldn't grasp about you. So, in an act of frustration, I began to watch you when you were not looking….. when your eyes were focusing on something more, more important than me. I began to notice you, that among the countless people scattered around me, you were the first I saw. Back then and even now, what I see first has always been your back." There was a pause, and then followed by a soft sigh. "I always told myself to keep you at arm length, never get too close, but you broke my wall, anyway. You've become my family, my place to lean on, and before I realized it, you've become much, much more than that."
"H-Huh?" Heat rose up her face again, she didn't like to jump to conclusion that fast, but did he—?
"What is this feeling called again?" A sudden pause, then; "Um, I think I forget..." He chuckled then, embarrassed, and that laugh tickled her skin softly, but at the same time it also made her heart drop into her stomach. So it was not a….
Shinoa exhaled, a breath she didn't know she held, and mumbled, "Stupid Yuu-san." under her breath, a trace of smile could be seen on her flushed face. Really, that boy certainly didn't understand a maiden heart, like, at all.
"Well, either that or I don't even know what it's called. Complicated matter is not my favorite subject, you know?" She could picture him smiling again, not too widely, but at least it was not forced either. "But we will figure it out, right?"
"Yes…. Yes we will." she said, and then, more certain than the last, she vowed; "We will."
"Na, Shinoa," She gasped when warmth suddenly enveloped her skin tenderly, it was then when she realized that he was holding her palm inside his rough ones, gingerly, gently, and in that fleeting moment, she wondered; were they always that warm? "When you wake up… let's have a talk. A very long talk, just between us two. I….. Honestly, there's a lot of thing I want to tell you in person, so please, don't give up okay? I think I'm going to bonk my head on the nearest wall if you decide to prolong your sleep any longer, because for me—well…."
Bonk his head on the nearest wall he said? "Baka Yuu-san…" she muttered as tears formed at the corner of her glassy eyes, threatening to fall down anytime from now. She missed him so much, that stupid head, that reckless boy, that gentle, kind; Yuichiro. When she could see him again? There was a thank you she hadn't said yet.
"Shinoa…. I—You…. You always, always brought out the best in me, and right now I need that kind of reassurance, so... wake up fast, would you?" Shinoa chocked back a sob, pressing her palms against her searing eyes, it was the first time she felt so needed, so loved. "I'm going to wait as long as it takes. Just—stay strong. There's always people in this world who want you to give up. Don't make their job any easier. I believe in you."
Shinoa cried then, loose and alone, within the vast landscape of her own mind. She cried; for the strength he gave her, for every word of encouragement he said, for every fleeting compassion and affection. She cried; for sadness which lost within her, for happiness which bloomed inside her, for tranquility which spread through her veins and erased her fear. She cried; for a love she found in him.
For a girl who never let anyone close before, Shinoa had brought him in, unconsciously letting him resided in her heart until he completely rooted deep. She had unknowingly craved his presence, more that she liked to admit, and now, the phase of 'loving is hoping' had never been truer for her. Because she hoped, she hoped that the next time she opened her eyes, she could tell him how much he meant to her like he did her.
"Thank you…" Shinoa smiled then, so beautifully, so heartbreakingly, as tears were falling across her face like raindrops. There's a lot of thing she wanted to say, she was overflowing with countless of emotions she couldn't name, but the feeling inside her, inside her heart, was too intense to be described by words so she settled with a simple, and soft; "Thank you for everything."
( in reality, sitting beside her sleeping form, Yuichiro felt her hand twitched for a split of second. )
.
.
His visits started to become frequent as time passed by.
Shinoa didn't really know about the time (there was no sense of hour inside her mind after all, it's all about prediction) but Kiyo-chan said that Yuu-san always came at dawn. He would greet her in the early morning, when the sky was still a shade of pink and purple, and still with his sleepy tone and raucous voice (and she supposed he was still in his pajamas too, she liked to see that just once) he would chime 'Ohayou!' at her unconscious form cheerfully.
Yuu-san would sit beside her bed, settling himself on the noisy metal chair, and after that he would talk about a lot of random things; from the current weather (well, it's always been a bright day, according to him) until a bizarre dream he'd had the night before (he dreamt that he was a puppy yesterday, and an apricot the day before; how creative).
Then, when it was past noon, Yuu-san would pat her head gently and then trotted out from the room, once or twice bonked his head on the door's hinges (she could hear his antagonized cries loud and clear, seriously, his tendencies to hurt himself was getting alarming), and he cursed. Yuu-san loved it to curse at the poor piece of wood (she pitied that door, she really did).
When the cerulean sky began to turn into a smooth shade of orange, Yuu-san would come back, plopping himself again on that not-so-comfortable chair beside her hospital bed, and this time, he would babble about how his day went.
About annoying Guren and bastard Kimizuki (that was pretty normal, wasn't it?); about the stupid cafeteria workers (she rolled her eyes); about sneaking ice cream from Guren's cabinet (she laughed a little at this, because who knew that Guren ate ice cream?); and sometimes too, he would tell her about his exciting rendezvous among the hospital hallways (she snorted, only he could say that being chased all around the building by a hordes of mad people with syringes was a fun thing to do).
Yuu-san would stay until sunset, and just like before, he would pat her head again and chimed a simple 'Be right back' before he exited her medical ward, bonked his head on the hinges like always. She wondered why it was only him, though; the one who frequently visited her, why not the others? Didn't they worry about her? They never came into her room, not even once. But she won't jump into conclusion that fast, there must be a reason for their absence, right?
However, it was when the night came that she began to feel restless. At this time of a day, Yuu-san would walk silently to her side, with careful steps; a glaring contrast from his usual boisterous strides that she couldn't even pick up his move at all. Only when he seated himself on the squeaky chair beside her that she finally realized his presence.
The silence and tranquility were not something she associated with his image. Yuu-san was a blaze, fiery and buoyant, and not taciturn. It was…. peculiar for him to be so calm. No, Yuu-san was peculiar when he didn't open his mouth as wide as a plate. He was Yuu-san after all.
She didn't want to sound like a paranoid lunatic or what, but she seriously considering her earlier idea about Yuu-san not being Yuu-san, at all. Well, he still talked to her about his day, but it was—boring, flat, and not exactly like his previous exuberant chats. His voice was thick, husky, and deep (was his voice always that deep?). It was… different, he was different. It made the hair on her skin stood, especially when he was too close for her heart to take.
But they weren't her only worries. Yuu-san had become bolder, and bolder in his demeanor toward her. At the beginning, it was only an innocent grips and nudges upon her hands. Just a fleeting caress; a momentary kind of touch. But then, then he began to brush his hand gently against her freezing skin, melting its ice with his feverish palm. Sometimes it was on her temple, the side of her brow. Sometimes it was on her cheeks, or her button nose, and sometimes, sometimes too, his fingers would brush softly against her lips, and even though it was only for a moment, her heart felt like it was about to explode into a mass of red and crimson fragments.
It's not like she hated Yuu-san's touch, no, if she was to be honest, she kind of liked it. His touch was always gentle, and tender, just like a mother's and it made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, it was… nice. She liked it.
But then, it also felt wrong, not because she hated to be touched—
—but because this was Yuu-san she was talking about.
This, was a side of him that she had never seen before. She didn't know this kind of him. She didn't know this person.
And it made her afraid.
.
.
.
"Yuu, please stop for a moment."
It was a calm and serene evening when Mitsuba appeared before him, blocking his way with her body and stared at him with a troubled look on her face. It was a wonder to find her here, after all out of the vast building, the west hospital wing was mostly deserted from the living, not because it was abandoned, but rather because it looked like something that came out from a horror movie.
It was barren and void like a desert, its walls towered high with squeaky windows opened wide; gauzy curtains floated mystically when the wind blew softly against the windowsill. The hallways were long and narrow, and it created an eerie picture when night came over. The lighting was also bad, and the same went with its ventilation. To put it bluntly, the place was unnerving. Normal people would have gone to the other wings, so why she was here?
"What do you want?" he muttered, clicking his tongue in annoyance. It was a hassle to cross path with her, he needed to get past her somehow if he wanted to go to Shinoa's room. But how could he do such a thing without making her suspicious in the process?
"Where have you been for the past week?" she asked, quite peevish, and Yuichiro bristled, schooling his face into that of a sheer blankness. "You weren't in your room, so where were you?" she pushed again.
He gazed at her, eyes pale and hazy, with something she couldn't decipher; something nameless, cryptic, and said; "It's none of your business."
Mitsuba flinched back from his harsh tone, not used being ignored by this other version of (rougher, harsher, colder, scarier) him. Why he was acting so cold to her? Did he still angry about their previous spats? "I—Are you… are you still mad because of t-that?"
"What?" he lifted an eyebrow, frowning. Just where in bloody hell she got that idea from? "I'm not mad."
"Then why?" she prodded, genuinely frustrated with his nonchalant attitude. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Yuichiro deadpanned, discreetly hiding a grimace, but it was too late because she'd already caught a flicker of recognition inside his eyes. "Tell you what? There's nothing of importance for me to inform you."
The blonde haired girl laughed bitterly, gripping the fabric of her clothes hard. He's still playing around, huh?
"I saw you." she said, simply.
His heart dropped.
It was just a phrase, but it was strangely enough, at least, enough to make Yuichiro stopped on his track, his eyes widening into saucers and his shoulders tensed. He was frozen on his toes, his orbs darkened into deep evergreen as a frown made its way on his face. Then, before she could even blink, the boy had dragged her away to a vacant room near their location, slamming its door shut with more force than needed.
"Did you tell anyone?" he cornered her, tone ever so hurried and harsh. "Did you?"
"No." Mitsuba denied, hurt that he dared to suggest such thing to her. She was not someone who would sell her comrades away. The Lieutenant Colonel had told them that Shinoa's current condition was a top class secret, and she would abide by his command. "Of course not. Why would I?" she asked quietly, refusing to meet his narrowed eyes.
The black haired boy exhaled; obviously relieved that his secret was safe. At least for the time being, he thought despairingly. He had promised Guren that he would keep Shinoa's location a secret, even from the rest of the team. He knew that it sounded selfish, no, he knew that he was being selfish—but as long as he could see her, as long as he could sit by her side, even though he could only watch her still form; he would do anything in return.
"Yuu, tell me," he snapped out from his thoughts, shifting his gaze to the girl in front of him. "Why did you lie? Don't you trust me?" she whispered, and in that moment he felt a stab through his chest. He didn't mean to sound like a jerk to her, but he couldn't help but denied her kindness.
"Wait, I didn't—" Yuichiro sighed, raking a hand through his messy hair. "Listen, I promised Guren that I won't tell anyone, okay? It's not like I was lying without purpose, it's just—he made it clear that I can't tell anyone, including you guys." he said, dropping his gaze downwards.
Mitsuba didn't say a thing in response, standing stiffly with her bangs covering her violet eyes. The silence was deafening, but then, the girl suddenly jerked her head up, only to stare at him with an obscure emotion he couldn't understand.
"Do you like her?" she blurted out.
"What?" he asked, his eyebrow lifted in confusion. "Of course I like her, she is my friend." he said sharply, staring at her face as if she were growing two heads at the moment.
"No, not like that." she shook her head, unconsciously biting her lower lip hard. "Do you like, like her?"
Yuichiro stared again, feeling even more confused. "What are you trying to sa—"
She closed her eyes shut, and asked; "Do you love her?"
He stopped breathing. Eyes went unnaturally wide. A sharp intake of breath.
And then, it was suddenly still.
A long, excruciating silence fell among them.
There was no word, no sound uttered, and then she thought, she thought that she was such a pitiful, miserable person for asking such an obvious question when she already knew the answer.
It was clear as crystal for her, what his answer would be.
"Oh." she whispered, fluttering her eyes wide into saucers. Her heart was beating like crazy (thump thump thump, it echoed); and her eyes, they were burning, and searing, and scorching with fire against her wet eyelids. Huh? Wet? Why? Why she was crying? Why her chest felt so tight all sudden? She should have expected this, right? She had seen it with her own eyes, so why it felt like she was about to break into pieces because of something she should have known since the beginning?
"I need to go." it was the only thing he said, and without waiting for her answer, he fled the room. Gone from her eyes, just like a passing breeze.
( poof she thought, poof and then he was gone. gone, just like those lukewarm tear marks across her face; just like the trace of warmth upon her skin; just like the fading orange sky and her slowing heart beats. )
Mitsuba leaned back into the wall behind her, before she lost her footing and sagging down into the cold, harsh floor beneath her.
.
.
The wind kept on smacking across his face like a torrent of harsh slaps. He was running, almost soaring from the ground; his body was merely a blur as his feet thumped against the tiled floor before they leaped again into the air. His lungs were burning; his heart was throbbing, so much that it hurt; and his muscles were screaming at him to stopstopstop but he refused to slow his movement down.
( do you love her? )
What the hell was that? What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he answer her question? Why couldn't he answer her? Did he really love Shinoa? Was this feeling inside his heart—this longing, burning flames, was love?
All this time?
"Dammit. Dammit." he hissed, shutting his eyes tight; the images of Shinoa's smile and Shinoa's laugh and Shinoa's tears and Shinoa Shinoa Shinoa (and her again, always her. why always her? why why why) spun inside his mind like a broken record. He hated this feeling; it was suffocating, smothering, and burning and—and he, Yuichiro, had never, ever felt something like this before.
( do you love her? )
He opened his eyes wide, then spotted the familiar door a few feet from him, and before he could even register anything, his feet had abruptly skidded into a halt.
( do you love her? )
The jade eyed boy took a step forward, but then backed away again, his boots scraped the smooth tiles beneath him. Why the sudden fear? He had walked through that door a countless times before; pressed its knob down; bonked his head on its hinges; cursed on its surface so why did he hesitate now?
Taking in a calming breath, he gripped the handle hard until his knuckles turned pale, then pushed it down.
( do you love her? )
What greeted him was something that he thought only existed in a dream.
A figure he knew so well was sitting on top the mussed up bed, her pale, hazy form gleamed under the moonlight. Her face was turned to the side, the back of her head at him. She was looking out the steel window, her gaze to the starlit sky and smiling moon above. Soft, wild lavender tresses flew gently by the wind as a pair of bronze eyes shone through the darkness; her cheeks slightly flushed pink from the biting cold. Her translucent, porcelain skin glowed with silver streaks.
She was so unreal, just like an illusion, a phantasm. There was only one word to describe her right now.
Beautiful.
( do you love her? )
"Yuu… –san?"
.
.
author's note:
A-HA, see how cruel I can be? This chapter is everything but sane. Writing their thoughts was like riding on a freaking roller coaster. But well, I kinda half-expected it, because both of them are emotionally stumped. One is a boy with trust issue, and another is a girl with mysterious past.
Hell, the boy had lost his family twice, has a family which turned into vampire (he's so angsty about it, practically his live goal), has a freaking mutated gene in his bloodstreams (episode 11 everyone?), and has a trust issue, don't forget that. Trust. Issue.
The boy was a total loner before he met Shinoa and the rest. He didn't trust anyone, even Guren, the one who'd saved him and been there longer. Before it was all about revenge, and now, he has a family to take care of, a family to protect, a family to save, and a girl to come to terms with. Pretty hard life, no?
And Shinoa. The girl had never experienced what it means to have a family who is very, very open about his/her emotions (no, Mahiru, you're not count. The same goes to you, Guren. And YES Shinya you too you dork), has an apocalypse as a birthday gift (basically the end of the world, 25 December, ring any bells?), and now a boy has suddenly appeared in front of her, calls her family, then wrecked all her hard works in one go (building a perfect mark like that is so not easy, and he broke it just like that, the nerve). If I were her, let's just say that suicide sounds very sweet in my ears.
And yep, I'm not going to forget about the rest of the team. Currently, Kimizuki is the mediator, the one who holds most of the knowledge about the emotional wreckages around him. Yoichi is our cinnamon roll like always, his presence is needed in the future, I tell you. And Mitsuba, how could I forget her? I'm not going to be a jerk and ignore her crush (or is it love already?) on Yuu, no freaking way.
I respected Kagami-sensei plot, so I will pretty much stick to canon. Mitsuba's involvement could be a good thing for both of them though, but I'm not going to bash her, no, NO WAY IN HELL. I love that blonde chick. I'm going to work with her feelings too, so expect a few heartbreaking moments in the future chapters okay?
Ah well, enough about them. So, what about this chapter? I hope my explanations are good enough for you. They are hard to write, you know? Reviews and feedbacks are loved~ (owo). Now, I'm pretty excited to write their long awaited reunion, finally I can write one normal chapter after all the angsts and twists (^u^).
I will try to update fast (maybe in a week just like this one?). Well my schedule is kinda loose for this week so please wish me luck! Anyway, there's no LN spoilers in this chapter, but in the next chapter I'm going to add a better explanations about Mahiru and Shinoa business (there's a lot of you who asked so yeah). Stay tuned minna-san, see you in the next chap~ (^w^)
-Hinoiri Lwin-