Nabari no Ou/ Slipping on his smile
They told you that you would be invincible. You weren’t listening. You just looked at the scroll the old man was holding in his hands. You thought his eyes looked like the grey concrete of the basement you lived in for so long. Your brother had brown eyes. And he used to crouch down in front of the narrow window of the basement. You used to think his eyes were like quick-sands. Not that you had ever seen quick-sands. You read about them in a book. It was an adventure book Tsubasa gave you. You learnt how to read on your own.
The man with the scroll asked you if you were able to read. You nodded and closed your little fingers around the piece of paper. It was a bit dusty, and coarse. It was like the bandage around your neck.
You read. And he continued to say that you would become invincible. You weren’t listening. The words continued to pour inside you. Your eyes were tired but you went on reading. He said it would be painful. You wanted the pain. And you bore with it even when you had to crouch on Yukimi’s sofa, your bones growing longer and longer. You felt your skin tensing up, like the top of a drum.
They told you that you were invincible and you just wanted them to be silent and to let you bathe in your pain.
They told you that you were invincible but they had never taught you how it was like to live. They hadn’t taught you that you could stumble on some reason to live.
Today it’s a calm day. The air seems to sleep. It’s hot, and you feel uncomfortable sweat drops along your spine and under your arms. Miharu said you to wait here. So you sit and look at the boys and girls during their p.e. lesson. They run and they jump. They are the ones who seem invincible to you. Because you are fast, you can move smoothly but every time you do so there’s some more blood at the bottom of your lungs, some more needles in your knees.
You look at Miharu, stretching his slim body. He seems a grass blade. You look at his milky legs. They told you that you were invincible but they never told you that you could feel this tingle in your finger tips, on your tongue.
They didn’t told you that you could wish to reach out. To touch him. To learn the things you don’t know.
Sometimes Miharu touches you. He touches you casually, on your leg, on your arm. Sometimes he takes your hand. His fingers are light. Like leaves. It’s not painful to be touched by him. And your body knows it too, your skin and muscles soften and there’s a weird kind of heat along your veins or forming pools in places you do not want to think about.
You have never seen anyone else naked. You don’t think it’s something you want to see. But you wonder if Miharu’s skin is even whiter under his clothes. You wonder if he has different shapes than you.
You think invincible people are not like you. They do not desire such things. They do not doubt what they have decided.
You look at Miharu’s hands, at Miharu’s legs and you wonder how it would be to remain. To remain till your body breaks. To remain in his mind. But then Miharu looks at you and waves. And you do not want him to look at you any more.
Miharu passes a hand over his forehead. You look at the little pearls of sweat under his hair.
- Are you hungry, Yoite?
You think that your body doesn’t even care for food. But eating makes you feel more alive, although you shouldn’t desire to feel alive. Alive like Miharu, with his blue veins under his pale skin and the blood rushing along them. Miharu is too alive for you. And he is too silent for the rest of the world.
You nod.
He doesn’t talk as he walks. He just lets his hand close around yours. You swallow. You can’t pull away.
He brushes lightly his thumb over the back of your glove. You decided to keep them on a long time ago. You have never wished to take them off in front of someone before.
There are shadows of leaves stamped on the ground under the sun. Miharu’s hair seem to shine, darker than ever under the light.
And you are not invincible as they said, because you keep losing grip on reality. Reality is that you are a killer, that you shouldn’t have born. Still you continue to slip over the surface of Miharu’s smiles.
At night you lie in your futon. Yukimi’s house is silent. There’s only the sound of the fan going. You look at the ceiling and what you see are Miharu’s hands. You like the way he flips the okonomiyaki with the heat of the plate making them a bit redder.
You want to cry. Because you don’t understand this desire to feel those hands over you. Those smiling lips over yours.
You don’t know how it is like. You don’t know how it works.
You look at the ceiling. And you see the sun sliding on Miharu’s hair, falling on the softness of his lips.
You are like a child, looking wide-eyed at what appears at the bottom of a kaleidoscope. You hear the sounds your body is making, the fresh sheets brushing over your skin.
You want to touch him, but you can’t.
You want to kiss him, but you can’t.
What you can do it’s imagine. Imagine that he could teach you. That he takes your hand once more.
Slowly you touch yourself. You pass through the soft black hair. And your hand sinks down.
You’ve never touched yourself before. Your heart gets smaller in your ribcage. You have this idea that it’s wrong, because you don’t belong here, you don’t belong to your dying body. You have no right to touch yourself thinking of Miharu.
You are not invincible like they say.
Your fingers twirls in the wetness of the weird flower you have between your legs. And you think you are just a weak mistake on the surface of the world.
You feel something liquefy inside you. And you think that you don’t want that Miharu forgets you.
The fan keeps going. You curl up under the sheets. You try to calm your heart, to slow your breath.
You close your eyes and you are not invincible at all.
You imagine soft lips on yours, like butterflies. And you know that this weird, wrong feeling which is growing inside of you is invincible.
You begin to slip over the edge of sleep. You fall and sink in the warmth. You see Mihaur’s hair shining in the sunlight, Miharu’s lips smiling only for you.
xposted at30_kisses and nabari_no_ou
The man with the scroll asked you if you were able to read. You nodded and closed your little fingers around the piece of paper. It was a bit dusty, and coarse. It was like the bandage around your neck.
You read. And he continued to say that you would become invincible. You weren’t listening. The words continued to pour inside you. Your eyes were tired but you went on reading. He said it would be painful. You wanted the pain. And you bore with it even when you had to crouch on Yukimi’s sofa, your bones growing longer and longer. You felt your skin tensing up, like the top of a drum.
They told you that you were invincible and you just wanted them to be silent and to let you bathe in your pain.
They told you that you were invincible but they had never taught you how it was like to live. They hadn’t taught you that you could stumble on some reason to live.
Today it’s a calm day. The air seems to sleep. It’s hot, and you feel uncomfortable sweat drops along your spine and under your arms. Miharu said you to wait here. So you sit and look at the boys and girls during their p.e. lesson. They run and they jump. They are the ones who seem invincible to you. Because you are fast, you can move smoothly but every time you do so there’s some more blood at the bottom of your lungs, some more needles in your knees.
You look at Miharu, stretching his slim body. He seems a grass blade. You look at his milky legs. They told you that you were invincible but they never told you that you could feel this tingle in your finger tips, on your tongue.
They didn’t told you that you could wish to reach out. To touch him. To learn the things you don’t know.
Sometimes Miharu touches you. He touches you casually, on your leg, on your arm. Sometimes he takes your hand. His fingers are light. Like leaves. It’s not painful to be touched by him. And your body knows it too, your skin and muscles soften and there’s a weird kind of heat along your veins or forming pools in places you do not want to think about.
You have never seen anyone else naked. You don’t think it’s something you want to see. But you wonder if Miharu’s skin is even whiter under his clothes. You wonder if he has different shapes than you.
You think invincible people are not like you. They do not desire such things. They do not doubt what they have decided.
You look at Miharu’s hands, at Miharu’s legs and you wonder how it would be to remain. To remain till your body breaks. To remain in his mind. But then Miharu looks at you and waves. And you do not want him to look at you any more.
Miharu passes a hand over his forehead. You look at the little pearls of sweat under his hair.
- Are you hungry, Yoite?
You think that your body doesn’t even care for food. But eating makes you feel more alive, although you shouldn’t desire to feel alive. Alive like Miharu, with his blue veins under his pale skin and the blood rushing along them. Miharu is too alive for you. And he is too silent for the rest of the world.
You nod.
He doesn’t talk as he walks. He just lets his hand close around yours. You swallow. You can’t pull away.
He brushes lightly his thumb over the back of your glove. You decided to keep them on a long time ago. You have never wished to take them off in front of someone before.
There are shadows of leaves stamped on the ground under the sun. Miharu’s hair seem to shine, darker than ever under the light.
And you are not invincible as they said, because you keep losing grip on reality. Reality is that you are a killer, that you shouldn’t have born. Still you continue to slip over the surface of Miharu’s smiles.
At night you lie in your futon. Yukimi’s house is silent. There’s only the sound of the fan going. You look at the ceiling and what you see are Miharu’s hands. You like the way he flips the okonomiyaki with the heat of the plate making them a bit redder.
You want to cry. Because you don’t understand this desire to feel those hands over you. Those smiling lips over yours.
You don’t know how it is like. You don’t know how it works.
You look at the ceiling. And you see the sun sliding on Miharu’s hair, falling on the softness of his lips.
You are like a child, looking wide-eyed at what appears at the bottom of a kaleidoscope. You hear the sounds your body is making, the fresh sheets brushing over your skin.
You want to touch him, but you can’t.
You want to kiss him, but you can’t.
What you can do it’s imagine. Imagine that he could teach you. That he takes your hand once more.
Slowly you touch yourself. You pass through the soft black hair. And your hand sinks down.
You’ve never touched yourself before. Your heart gets smaller in your ribcage. You have this idea that it’s wrong, because you don’t belong here, you don’t belong to your dying body. You have no right to touch yourself thinking of Miharu.
You are not invincible like they say.
Your fingers twirls in the wetness of the weird flower you have between your legs. And you think you are just a weak mistake on the surface of the world.
You feel something liquefy inside you. And you think that you don’t want that Miharu forgets you.
The fan keeps going. You curl up under the sheets. You try to calm your heart, to slow your breath.
You close your eyes and you are not invincible at all.
You imagine soft lips on yours, like butterflies. And you know that this weird, wrong feeling which is growing inside of you is invincible.
You begin to slip over the edge of sleep. You fall and sink in the warmth. You see Mihaur’s hair shining in the sunlight, Miharu’s lips smiling only for you.
xposted at30_kisses and nabari_no_ou