If you're lost and you look then you will find me, time after time...
Title: Interlude
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG
Genre: Character/relationship study
Characters/Pairings: Murata-as-Christine, Murata-as-Murata, Jose
Wordcount: 943
Description: This started as part of A Matter of Time until I decided it was wandering into unnecessary territory and was meant to be its own piece. A look at Murata and Jose's friendship. Not very polished, but this was what I came up with.
Disclaimer: I don't own KKM.
***
“Sometimes when you’re with me, I think you’re really not there at all,” Jose says, clearly unsure whether to be concerned or irritated. Jose is probably her last indulgence, and a very sweet man, but it is unlikely he would understand things if they were explained to him. At the very least, he wouldn’t take it well. This last life as Christine is full of barely contained nerves. Not long now, she knows. The thought is electrifying after all these years and she cannot keep it out of her everyday interactions. It is so much bigger than the everyday.
“You’re being silly. Where else would I be? I haven’t gone anywhere.” There is no point in mentioning the fact that this will change, soon. People whose consciousness only holds one life at a time don’t understand that these things aren’t as serious as they seem to be. People live, die, grow together, drift apart. Love is love but time ultimately wins in the end. “Don’t worry so much. I’m here, aren’t I?” She places a hand on Jose’s cheek and he closes his eyes. She feels almost sad but mostly good-byes have lost their poignancy for her because she has had to make so many of them.
***
When her body starts failing on her, struck down by a disease no doctor can seem to diagnose properly, Jose is crushed and Christine is perfectly calm. “It is time,” she says. “Once I am gone-”
“We don’t know that for sure!” Jose stubbornly holds to his hope when everyone else has long abandoned it.
“Jose.” A smile, a shake of the head. What else is there to say? Time will have its way and destiny is beyond the reach of man. “Stop. You know I am right. Once I am gone, there is something I want you to do for me. Promise me.”
“You won’t-”
“Promise me.”
Jose has never been able to resist that tone of voice. “I promise.”
***
It’s pretty funny, really. He generally tries to keep from re-initiating contact with people he has known while wearing another form because it tends to distress them, but his parents don’t give him much of a say when they’re selecting his pediatrician, and so here they are again a few years later and sure enough, Jose is distressed.
“But… but I thought… you’re…”
Murata Ken is a small, awkward boy with unruly hair and vision which is already threatening to fail him at the tender age of five. He supposes that in making his highhanded Sun and Moon analogy, Jose was envisioning a fairytale prince and his gentle, feminine consort.
He rather suspects the fairytale prince avenue didn’t pan out, either.
He grins apologetically, showing off a gap where he has already lost his first tooth. He’s precocious, in more ways than one. “It’s good to see you,” he says. “You’re looking well; I’m glad.” It is nice not to pretend to childishness and incomprehension. Growing up again and again is tedious. If he behaves too intelligent too early, he’s as likely as not to end up in serious trouble.
He is sitting on the examining room table, swinging his small legs and Jose is staring as though he isn’t entirely sure what to make of him. He finally rises from his chair and lifts Murata’s small body into his arms and holds tightly. He hasn’t changed his horrid favorite aftershave. The flannel collar of his shirt is soft against Murata’s cheek. His dreadlocks tickle. His warmth is familiar. Murata hugs back.
***
Jose isn’t the type to take up with an underage boy, familiar soul or not. Murata can tell the thought scares him senseless and is secretly glad for it; Jose is kind and deserves more than what Murata can offer. It’s a bit strange between them at first, and then suddenly they are friends and the strangeness dissipates. Jose awkwardly starts teasing him about the girls in his class, then about the boys, just in case. In return, Murata teases him about his very pretty receptionist, and he knows then that everything is fine. They eat too much ice cream and laugh until they nearly cry over truly terrible science fiction movies when Murata’s parents go out of town and Jose volunteers to baby-sit. During the course of the week he spends in the Murata household, Jose manages to become hopelessly addicted to several of the anime Murata’s parents keep around to entertain their son. A few weeks later, Jose carefully sets Murata’s arm and applies the plaster cast after the school bullies get too out of hand, and Murata barely talks him out of finding the stupid children and giving them “a talking-to they’ll never forget.”
“It’s just a bone,” he says. He’s broken worse. He thinks of Shinou. Some broken things never heal. “It will be as good as new in a few months. Don’t take it so seriously.”
“What do you consider serious?” Jose asks, looking curious despite himself.
Murata thinks of everything that is to come in the next few years, both for himself and for a young boy he has not yet met who does not have the benefit of years of experience to temper his reactions to things, some of which are sure to be terrible. If they survive it, it will be an ending unlike any he has ever faced. If they don’t… nothing will matter anymore, serious or not. Serious is inconsistent, anyway. “Not all that much,” Murata says. “Burnt curry maybe.”
“I think you actually get stranger every year,” Jose says, shaking his head.
Murata grins and tells him, “Thank you.”
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG
Genre: Character/relationship study
Characters/Pairings: Murata-as-Christine, Murata-as-Murata, Jose
Wordcount: 943
Description: This started as part of A Matter of Time until I decided it was wandering into unnecessary territory and was meant to be its own piece. A look at Murata and Jose's friendship. Not very polished, but this was what I came up with.
Disclaimer: I don't own KKM.
***
“Sometimes when you’re with me, I think you’re really not there at all,” Jose says, clearly unsure whether to be concerned or irritated. Jose is probably her last indulgence, and a very sweet man, but it is unlikely he would understand things if they were explained to him. At the very least, he wouldn’t take it well. This last life as Christine is full of barely contained nerves. Not long now, she knows. The thought is electrifying after all these years and she cannot keep it out of her everyday interactions. It is so much bigger than the everyday.
“You’re being silly. Where else would I be? I haven’t gone anywhere.” There is no point in mentioning the fact that this will change, soon. People whose consciousness only holds one life at a time don’t understand that these things aren’t as serious as they seem to be. People live, die, grow together, drift apart. Love is love but time ultimately wins in the end. “Don’t worry so much. I’m here, aren’t I?” She places a hand on Jose’s cheek and he closes his eyes. She feels almost sad but mostly good-byes have lost their poignancy for her because she has had to make so many of them.
***
When her body starts failing on her, struck down by a disease no doctor can seem to diagnose properly, Jose is crushed and Christine is perfectly calm. “It is time,” she says. “Once I am gone-”
“We don’t know that for sure!” Jose stubbornly holds to his hope when everyone else has long abandoned it.
“Jose.” A smile, a shake of the head. What else is there to say? Time will have its way and destiny is beyond the reach of man. “Stop. You know I am right. Once I am gone, there is something I want you to do for me. Promise me.”
“You won’t-”
“Promise me.”
Jose has never been able to resist that tone of voice. “I promise.”
***
It’s pretty funny, really. He generally tries to keep from re-initiating contact with people he has known while wearing another form because it tends to distress them, but his parents don’t give him much of a say when they’re selecting his pediatrician, and so here they are again a few years later and sure enough, Jose is distressed.
“But… but I thought… you’re…”
Murata Ken is a small, awkward boy with unruly hair and vision which is already threatening to fail him at the tender age of five. He supposes that in making his highhanded Sun and Moon analogy, Jose was envisioning a fairytale prince and his gentle, feminine consort.
He rather suspects the fairytale prince avenue didn’t pan out, either.
He grins apologetically, showing off a gap where he has already lost his first tooth. He’s precocious, in more ways than one. “It’s good to see you,” he says. “You’re looking well; I’m glad.” It is nice not to pretend to childishness and incomprehension. Growing up again and again is tedious. If he behaves too intelligent too early, he’s as likely as not to end up in serious trouble.
He is sitting on the examining room table, swinging his small legs and Jose is staring as though he isn’t entirely sure what to make of him. He finally rises from his chair and lifts Murata’s small body into his arms and holds tightly. He hasn’t changed his horrid favorite aftershave. The flannel collar of his shirt is soft against Murata’s cheek. His dreadlocks tickle. His warmth is familiar. Murata hugs back.
***
Jose isn’t the type to take up with an underage boy, familiar soul or not. Murata can tell the thought scares him senseless and is secretly glad for it; Jose is kind and deserves more than what Murata can offer. It’s a bit strange between them at first, and then suddenly they are friends and the strangeness dissipates. Jose awkwardly starts teasing him about the girls in his class, then about the boys, just in case. In return, Murata teases him about his very pretty receptionist, and he knows then that everything is fine. They eat too much ice cream and laugh until they nearly cry over truly terrible science fiction movies when Murata’s parents go out of town and Jose volunteers to baby-sit. During the course of the week he spends in the Murata household, Jose manages to become hopelessly addicted to several of the anime Murata’s parents keep around to entertain their son. A few weeks later, Jose carefully sets Murata’s arm and applies the plaster cast after the school bullies get too out of hand, and Murata barely talks him out of finding the stupid children and giving them “a talking-to they’ll never forget.”
“It’s just a bone,” he says. He’s broken worse. He thinks of Shinou. Some broken things never heal. “It will be as good as new in a few months. Don’t take it so seriously.”
“What do you consider serious?” Jose asks, looking curious despite himself.
Murata thinks of everything that is to come in the next few years, both for himself and for a young boy he has not yet met who does not have the benefit of years of experience to temper his reactions to things, some of which are sure to be terrible. If they survive it, it will be an ending unlike any he has ever faced. If they don’t… nothing will matter anymore, serious or not. Serious is inconsistent, anyway. “Not all that much,” Murata says. “Burnt curry maybe.”
“I think you actually get stranger every year,” Jose says, shaking his head.
Murata grins and tells him, “Thank you.”