[FIC] Angels Fly Alone: Phantom Limb.
Title: Angels Fly Alone: Phantom Limb.
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz Glühen/ Kyou Kara Moau
Warnings: ANGST. Goddamn bunny of hell.
Characters/couples: Yuuri, mentions of others, implied Yuuri/Omi.
Summary: Omi took part of himself when he left, and he’s not sure how to fill the void and he has nothing but will to try and get through it.
Rating: PG13.
Phantom Limb.
Yuuri doesn’t speak for almost two weeks, after Omi disappears for good. One day he’s back in Japan with his things and their cats and a lost look on his face and emptiness in his eyes. Nor Jennifer’s worry or Souma’s questions or even Shouri’s demands help to make him answer. He looks at them with sad, kind of empty eyes and moves in silence, like a shadow. He does as he’s told and he goes out everyday. By the end of his first week back home he has a job washing dishes in a restaurant nearby and he answers with one-syllable words and soft sounds, and by the second week he’s enrolled into college again and talking doesn’t seem to hurt him that much.
He doesn’t speak about the important things, though. At night he just lies over his bed, softly rubbing Conrad’s or Aiko’s fur and hearing them purr and he doesn’t know when he falls asleep and if he does, but it’s never for long because it’s as if his body was waiting for a warmth to settle over before it allows itself to rest. When Yuuri starts talking again, his parents are too surprised to ask much. They soon learn that questioning about Omi would cause that empty look to come back on Yuuri’s face, so they stop asking.
When Yuuri finds the album with their pictures and that causes him to lock himself in his room for two whole days, barely answering that he’s fine, Jennifer is quick to hide them all. Soon, the only proof that Omi existed is a necklace that never leaves his neck and two cats that have become ridiculously attached to him.
It’s not the fact that they broke up. If Yuuri could, he’d try to explain it, but it’s not just that. It’s not the fact that he’s not going to see Omi ever again.
It’s just that he gave himself completely to Omi, until everything that he was, every single thread of his life became entwined with Omi and they had ended up sharing living spaces in and out of themselves, had become so much more than just a couple and suddenly, that link was torn. By breaking up, he should’ve gone back to being plain old boring normal Yuuri, but he can’t. He doesn’t know which parts Omi took, which remain, which are lost for good. He’s not sure how to go back to anything resembling normal, because being with Omi had been normal and this loneliness is not.
Omi took part of himself when he left, and he’s not sure how to fill the void and he has nothing but will to try and get through it. He tries doing what he did before, but everything seems tainted by whatever memories Omi left behind.
He goes through his life like he’s supposed to, and he has a job and he does exercise and his grades have never been better, and he does everything the way he’s supposed to be doing it and waiting for it to stop being a farce.
He meets Aki almost three months after Omi disappears and Aki smells of smoke and cologne and he insists on being called Aki so Yuuri smiles back and says the same, and they sort of become friends. Yuuri thinks that perhaps that’s what he needed to go back to normal, more human contact, so he soon starts laughing again, even if it sounds forced, and he keeps repeating to himself that Omi’s not real, was never real, it was all a dream.
“You know, Yuuri?” Aki asks after another drag of smoke. He has offered Yuuri a cigarette for a while, but he always refuse. “Girls are starting to wonder.”
“About what?”
“If you’re straight or bi or gay.” Aki’s smile is sharp around his cigarette and Yuuri shakes his head. “Couple of boys, too.”
“Why would they wonder?”
“Shibuya, remember me to introduce you to this friend of mine, it’s called ‘mirror’, okay?”
His laugh is a bit less forced and he shakes his head again, trying to ignore that Aki is still looking at him, waiting for an answer. He’s about to say ‘not interested’ or ‘probably gay’ when he remembers that if Omi never existed, then he has always been straight and he doesn’t know how a man’s body feel.
He says yes when Aki says that a couple of their classmates are going to a karaoke and he even says yes to the sake, since he’s twenty and all that and, besides, normal people usually drink when they go out, and he ignores the tiny voice inside him that keeps on saying ‘you promised not to drink again’.
What does it matter when all the other promises are already broken?
He’s somewhat drunk by the time Aki tells him to spend the night in his house since he’s too drunk to go to his. Yuuri wants to reply that no, he isn’t, but by that time he’s already being kissed by Aki and Aki’s pushing his clothes away and by the time his hands close over Aki’s arms he has already discovered that if he keeps his eyes tightly closed he is able to ignore the way Aki’s body is different and instead focus on the touch of hair that feels similar to what he knows, or the way his hands are almost identical, and that if he kisses him he can almost believe that it was all a nightmare, it’s everything okay.
By the time everything’s over he’s not drunk anymore; he’s thirsty, and sore, and so incredibly sad that he can’t even describe it.
Aki takes a drag from his cigarette and then offers it to him. Yuuri has never smoken and he has always refused before, but he takes it and takes a careful drag, barely coughing a bit at the bitter smoke.
“Who’s Omi?” Aki asks. Yuuri remembers coming with that name over his lips.
Yuuri takes another drag of the cigarette and answers between his coughs. “No one real.” Another cough. “No one that exists.”
But it gets easier with time. He and Aki don’t date: he says he doesn’t want the commitment (he’s quite certain he won’t be able to allow himself to grow that close to someone else again) and besides, he’s straight. Aki says it’s fine and they have a somewhat close friendship, or as close as Yuuri’s willing to risk it.
By the time his nephew Kichiro is born, Yuuri seems to be back to normal and he doesn’t do a thing to prove this wrong, because he believes that, too. And he tells himself that he’s going to take off that necklace soon; that any day now he’s going to drop it into one box and never think about it again.
He kind of never does.
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz Glühen/ Kyou Kara Moau
Warnings: ANGST. Goddamn bunny of hell.
Characters/couples: Yuuri, mentions of others, implied Yuuri/Omi.
Summary: Omi took part of himself when he left, and he’s not sure how to fill the void and he has nothing but will to try and get through it.
Rating: PG13.
Phantom Limb.
Yuuri doesn’t speak for almost two weeks, after Omi disappears for good. One day he’s back in Japan with his things and their cats and a lost look on his face and emptiness in his eyes. Nor Jennifer’s worry or Souma’s questions or even Shouri’s demands help to make him answer. He looks at them with sad, kind of empty eyes and moves in silence, like a shadow. He does as he’s told and he goes out everyday. By the end of his first week back home he has a job washing dishes in a restaurant nearby and he answers with one-syllable words and soft sounds, and by the second week he’s enrolled into college again and talking doesn’t seem to hurt him that much.
He doesn’t speak about the important things, though. At night he just lies over his bed, softly rubbing Conrad’s or Aiko’s fur and hearing them purr and he doesn’t know when he falls asleep and if he does, but it’s never for long because it’s as if his body was waiting for a warmth to settle over before it allows itself to rest. When Yuuri starts talking again, his parents are too surprised to ask much. They soon learn that questioning about Omi would cause that empty look to come back on Yuuri’s face, so they stop asking.
When Yuuri finds the album with their pictures and that causes him to lock himself in his room for two whole days, barely answering that he’s fine, Jennifer is quick to hide them all. Soon, the only proof that Omi existed is a necklace that never leaves his neck and two cats that have become ridiculously attached to him.
It’s not the fact that they broke up. If Yuuri could, he’d try to explain it, but it’s not just that. It’s not the fact that he’s not going to see Omi ever again.
It’s just that he gave himself completely to Omi, until everything that he was, every single thread of his life became entwined with Omi and they had ended up sharing living spaces in and out of themselves, had become so much more than just a couple and suddenly, that link was torn. By breaking up, he should’ve gone back to being plain old boring normal Yuuri, but he can’t. He doesn’t know which parts Omi took, which remain, which are lost for good. He’s not sure how to go back to anything resembling normal, because being with Omi had been normal and this loneliness is not.
Omi took part of himself when he left, and he’s not sure how to fill the void and he has nothing but will to try and get through it. He tries doing what he did before, but everything seems tainted by whatever memories Omi left behind.
He goes through his life like he’s supposed to, and he has a job and he does exercise and his grades have never been better, and he does everything the way he’s supposed to be doing it and waiting for it to stop being a farce.
He meets Aki almost three months after Omi disappears and Aki smells of smoke and cologne and he insists on being called Aki so Yuuri smiles back and says the same, and they sort of become friends. Yuuri thinks that perhaps that’s what he needed to go back to normal, more human contact, so he soon starts laughing again, even if it sounds forced, and he keeps repeating to himself that Omi’s not real, was never real, it was all a dream.
“You know, Yuuri?” Aki asks after another drag of smoke. He has offered Yuuri a cigarette for a while, but he always refuse. “Girls are starting to wonder.”
“About what?”
“If you’re straight or bi or gay.” Aki’s smile is sharp around his cigarette and Yuuri shakes his head. “Couple of boys, too.”
“Why would they wonder?”
“Shibuya, remember me to introduce you to this friend of mine, it’s called ‘mirror’, okay?”
His laugh is a bit less forced and he shakes his head again, trying to ignore that Aki is still looking at him, waiting for an answer. He’s about to say ‘not interested’ or ‘probably gay’ when he remembers that if Omi never existed, then he has always been straight and he doesn’t know how a man’s body feel.
He says yes when Aki says that a couple of their classmates are going to a karaoke and he even says yes to the sake, since he’s twenty and all that and, besides, normal people usually drink when they go out, and he ignores the tiny voice inside him that keeps on saying ‘you promised not to drink again’.
What does it matter when all the other promises are already broken?
He’s somewhat drunk by the time Aki tells him to spend the night in his house since he’s too drunk to go to his. Yuuri wants to reply that no, he isn’t, but by that time he’s already being kissed by Aki and Aki’s pushing his clothes away and by the time his hands close over Aki’s arms he has already discovered that if he keeps his eyes tightly closed he is able to ignore the way Aki’s body is different and instead focus on the touch of hair that feels similar to what he knows, or the way his hands are almost identical, and that if he kisses him he can almost believe that it was all a nightmare, it’s everything okay.
By the time everything’s over he’s not drunk anymore; he’s thirsty, and sore, and so incredibly sad that he can’t even describe it.
Aki takes a drag from his cigarette and then offers it to him. Yuuri has never smoken and he has always refused before, but he takes it and takes a careful drag, barely coughing a bit at the bitter smoke.
“Who’s Omi?” Aki asks. Yuuri remembers coming with that name over his lips.
Yuuri takes another drag of the cigarette and answers between his coughs. “No one real.” Another cough. “No one that exists.”
But it gets easier with time. He and Aki don’t date: he says he doesn’t want the commitment (he’s quite certain he won’t be able to allow himself to grow that close to someone else again) and besides, he’s straight. Aki says it’s fine and they have a somewhat close friendship, or as close as Yuuri’s willing to risk it.
By the time his nephew Kichiro is born, Yuuri seems to be back to normal and he doesn’t do a thing to prove this wrong, because he believes that, too. And he tells himself that he’s going to take off that necklace soon; that any day now he’s going to drop it into one box and never think about it again.
He kind of never does.