[Masao]
FIVE OF FIVE: NEVER LET YOU GO
by chaineddove
The brisk wind over the water seems much colder than May has any right to be, but Touya's hand is in his and that is enough to keep him warm. He takes it on instinct, with the strange feeling that if he doesn't, Touya will blow away on the wind. And Touya lets him, twining their fingers together, looking up at the blue sky, his cheeks flushed with wind and maybe something else. The ferry rocks under them in the silence of the early morning, and Hikaru knows he is probably supposed to be sad, but he can't work himself up when Touya is standing so close and the wind is making a tangle of his perfect hair.
They don't speak as the ferry docks, and their hands are still linked as Hikaru pulls his rival down the path he has preferred to walk alone, up a hill, down a winding street past shrines and houses with carp streamers snapping in the wind. Sometimes the quiet overwhelms him when he comes here and finds himself alone with sea and sky and his thoughts. It is too quiet in his head most of the time; he hasn't had enough time to adjust to the silence. He talks to himself sometimes, walking these streets, just to block out the silence. But Touya is here, warm and solid and real, and there isn't any need for words until they reach the shrine and make their way through the stone markers.
Hikaru kneels and Touya follows suit. It's strange, Hikaru thinks as he bows his head, that peace is so easy all of a sudden. He cried, coming here last year. He feels, in this place, the tug of the past. There are ghosts here, though he doubts they are the kind he has grown accustomed to. The air is full of his ghosts, his memories, his unspoken words and unfinished deeds. But the edge of grief is dull now; he kneels in the sunlight as a gull cries overhead and finds comfort instead.
This isn't how he thought it would be. There have been no harsh words, no accusations, no animosity. Just a thoughtful look and a promise to meet him at the train station the next morning. It's so easy it seems surreal. Hikaru wonders if Touya senses the ghosts, too. Maybe he doesn't. It's his place, after all, the symbol he has chosen for himself to represent what he has lost. He could just as easily go to his grandfather's attic. It's probably stupid to go to a shrine in a different city where the person he's mourning isn't even buried. Touya must think he's an idiot. Why won't he say anything?
He turns his head, dreading what he might find, and discovers Touya is watching him, and it strikes him all of a sudden that in all his life, he has never seen anything so beautiful as Touya's wind-kissed cheeks and hesitant smile. "Are you okay?" Touya asks, breaking the silence, and he doesn't sound like he thinks this was a stupid idea.
"I'm glad you're here," Hikaru says. "I'm glad you're here with me. This place…"
"Yes," Touya says, "I can tell." Hikaru realizes their hands are still linked when his is squeezed with a sort of awkward reassurance.
It is instinct that has him leaning in to place his lips, for just a moment, at the corner of Touya's mouth. Then Touya is staring at him, his face a shade of pink that matches his horrible shirt, and Hikaru can't help it; he throws his arms around Touya and holds on tight before the wind can carry him away.
by chaineddove
The brisk wind over the water seems much colder than May has any right to be, but Touya's hand is in his and that is enough to keep him warm. He takes it on instinct, with the strange feeling that if he doesn't, Touya will blow away on the wind. And Touya lets him, twining their fingers together, looking up at the blue sky, his cheeks flushed with wind and maybe something else. The ferry rocks under them in the silence of the early morning, and Hikaru knows he is probably supposed to be sad, but he can't work himself up when Touya is standing so close and the wind is making a tangle of his perfect hair.
They don't speak as the ferry docks, and their hands are still linked as Hikaru pulls his rival down the path he has preferred to walk alone, up a hill, down a winding street past shrines and houses with carp streamers snapping in the wind. Sometimes the quiet overwhelms him when he comes here and finds himself alone with sea and sky and his thoughts. It is too quiet in his head most of the time; he hasn't had enough time to adjust to the silence. He talks to himself sometimes, walking these streets, just to block out the silence. But Touya is here, warm and solid and real, and there isn't any need for words until they reach the shrine and make their way through the stone markers.
Hikaru kneels and Touya follows suit. It's strange, Hikaru thinks as he bows his head, that peace is so easy all of a sudden. He cried, coming here last year. He feels, in this place, the tug of the past. There are ghosts here, though he doubts they are the kind he has grown accustomed to. The air is full of his ghosts, his memories, his unspoken words and unfinished deeds. But the edge of grief is dull now; he kneels in the sunlight as a gull cries overhead and finds comfort instead.
This isn't how he thought it would be. There have been no harsh words, no accusations, no animosity. Just a thoughtful look and a promise to meet him at the train station the next morning. It's so easy it seems surreal. Hikaru wonders if Touya senses the ghosts, too. Maybe he doesn't. It's his place, after all, the symbol he has chosen for himself to represent what he has lost. He could just as easily go to his grandfather's attic. It's probably stupid to go to a shrine in a different city where the person he's mourning isn't even buried. Touya must think he's an idiot. Why won't he say anything?
He turns his head, dreading what he might find, and discovers Touya is watching him, and it strikes him all of a sudden that in all his life, he has never seen anything so beautiful as Touya's wind-kissed cheeks and hesitant smile. "Are you okay?" Touya asks, breaking the silence, and he doesn't sound like he thinks this was a stupid idea.
"I'm glad you're here," Hikaru says. "I'm glad you're here with me. This place…"
"Yes," Touya says, "I can tell." Hikaru realizes their hands are still linked when his is squeezed with a sort of awkward reassurance.
It is instinct that has him leaning in to place his lips, for just a moment, at the corner of Touya's mouth. Then Touya is staring at him, his face a shade of pink that matches his horrible shirt, and Hikaru can't help it; he throws his arms around Touya and holds on tight before the wind can carry him away.