[FIC] The Voice
Title : The Voice
Author : chibitanz
Pairing : Akame
Rating : PG 13
Warning : Angst
Disclaimer : Plot
Summary : The voice comes to him and Kame hated it. He hated the voice. So much.
He stares at his own reflection on the mirror length of half of his own height.
Lifting his right index finger, he felt the cold glass and maneuvered the finger to his face in the reflection. He traced the outline of his perfectly shaped face.
Mask.
There, lines starts crawling across his forehead and becomes horrifyingly visible where is not enclosed by his brown highlighted fringes.
His lips curved downwards forming a disgusted glower, an otherwise distortion to his beautiful face nevertheless.
“You’re beautiful,”
Those words had been reiterating in his little mind, over and over again as long as he could remember. He hated it.
You’re ugly as fuck, honestly.
That was what he had often told himself to counter the stereotypes of people who see him on national television, where his façade was always put on.
The façade that guises the emptiness he drowns himself with the absence of a certain someone.
He glares at his own reflection for the last time before he saunters to the balcony attached to his bedroom, feeling about for the white box in his pants pocket.
Leaning on the railing with a blank expression then, he pulled a white coated little stick from the box containing numerous of the same thing. He sticks the cigarette in between his lips and fished a lighter from his front pocket.
It was midautumn. The night was drafty and smoking, at nights like these makes him feel alive. More alive than he was. More alive than he ever was.
Streetlamps flooded the streets under him. People at the size of baby ants make a crowd in some part of the streets after another.
“What are you doing?”
Him again. The voice belongs to one person he didn’t have any fancy in putting his thoughts on came to his mind so naturally that they seemed to be there - even when the person himself wasn’t.
I’m smoking. What else?
And he would answer to that voice in his mind as if it’s only normal that he does.
“You quit.”
Kame nodded absently and agreeing silently. It’s true, he had quit that revolting habit of his for two years already.
I did.
That voice lives in him, Kame knew it very well.
“So why do it again?”
Kame flicked the collected ashes from the tip off the balcony, completely not giving any shit as to whose lucky head the ashes would fall onto.
He shook his head, finely haven’t any idea himself for the question asked.
“It’s not good for your body.”
Kame chuckled darkly, unimpressed.
“Don’t do it.”
He smiled sadly, knowing the fact to control himself from touching cigarettes was easy and could be done in a matter of nanoseconds because he knew himself clearly he was no addict but he wanted to do it.
No matter how much it ails his health, he still wants to do it.
“Please,”
Kame’s smile faded immediately as the word rang in his mind. That one word was what ticks him off the most; what he didn’t want to hear from the voice itself.
Just shut up. He said quietly.
“Please, Kame.” The voice becomes bolder this time.
Shut up, I said. His retort grew louder.
“Kazuya,” The voice hadn’t raised a pitch but only calmly pleading.
Kame flung the unfinished cigarette off the balcony and stomped madly back into his room. His hand flew up to his hair as the voice continued repeating the last word.
“Kazuya,”
Kame fisted his hair and threatened to pull his locks off their roots as he falls face down onto the soft cushion that was his bed.
“Shut up!” He screamed helplessly into the cottony article of blanket. His breathing becomes rapid and his mind was starting to visualize white lights. Dizziness was about to come and slap him into unconsciousness soon.
“I really like you, Kazuya,”
Kame stopped breathing for a moment.
“I know you’ll like me too, given the chance,”
He shook his head slowly as if to shake off those memories from his teenage years from his mind. Those memories he now sees were pushed to the back of his mind and locked safely in an animated drawer and Kame had built walls around the drawer to prevent those thoughts from showing up to the front of his mind again.
The walls were useless. The voice was too strong.
They were so young and had no idea whatsoever about a thing called love. All they felt was mere affection or abundance if not a channel of pleasure.
Kame was sure it had to be the last one for the voice. He was so damn certain.
What do you want from me, Jin?
It was the voice’s turn to chuckle this time while Kame only waited unsurely. “You know what I want,”
No, I don’t.
Kame closed his eyes. In one way or another it seemed to bring him closer to the voice when his visions are blinded.
“You do. You most certainly do.”
He shook his head. I don’t.
Silence.
Are you mad that I don’t?
Kame asked remorseful. What he wouldn’t give for the man who took away the bliss of his love life.
“How can I ever be mad at you, Kazuya?” The voice seemed to smile.
That made Kame felt even sorrier for himself. He didn’t like how the voice would always say such sweet little words to him and as much as he himself and the voice knew how much Kame hated being treated so gently.
“Did you miss me, Kazuya?” The voice asked again.
He nodded. Yes.
Silence.
Did you?
Silence.
“I do.”
Kame smiled to himself.
“Do you want to see me?”
Kame hesitated.
“You do.” The voice decided for him.
Kame gradually relaxes his tensed self and inhaled deeply before his mind was slowly visualizing plenty images of the face he knew oh so well and he’d do anything just to touch the man in his memory again.
I want to touch you. Kame begged.
The man in his mind smiled but that smile was barely registered in Kame’s own eyes because his eyes by then were already pooling with tears.
“Don’t.”
It was a warning. Not from the voice but from himself.
Clumsily he wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.
“You’re not crying for me anymore.” The voice said.
Kame nodded and the man beamed.
The man came so close that their faces were one finger’s gap. Kame wanted to open his eyes because he was unsatisfied with a view so mild. This feels so real and he was really tempted by the urge to disclose his eyes that perhaps the man was really there.
“Don’t open your eyes, Kazuya.” The voice stopped him.
Why?
Kame thought he felt the hand from the man brushing on his own locks almost lovingly.
“Don’t do it.”
Why? Kame asked again, annoyed.
The voice chortled quietly undoubtedly amused as to Kame’s persistence. “Because if you do, you won’t get to see my face anymore.”
Kame gives up. I don’t want that.
“Of course you don’t.” The voice agrees.
When are you going to take me with you?
Silence.
Jin?
Silence again.
The face in his head was starting to fade away and Kame hurries to reach out to grab whatever that’s left of the image but as vivid as it appears to be, it wasn’t.
Kame chased the face in his head. One step closer he takes, ten steps further Jin backs.
He wouldn’t give up. He runs for Jin’s silhouette but Jin was faster.
Kame was tired. His breathing rate increased and Jin had thankfully stopped and he stood there, watching Kame panting.
Why did you run?
Jin’s frown was obvious. “You are not coming with me.”
Jin came back to him. He stood in front of Kame and blew a puff of mist onto his face. Jin caressed his face, his thumb traced the pretty cheekbones of the other man.
Then, Jin’s phantom starts to fade. Everything was disappearing.
No! Kame screamed and instinctively reaches out again but it was useless, Jin was almost gone.
He opened his eyes abruptly and sat awake.
There he was, in the bedroom of his penthouse located in the middle of Tokyo in midautumn and the cool air blew in from the balcony where the door was slid opened wide.
He looked at his hands and sees a drop of water fell to his finger.
Kame touched his eye. He felt another drop of water from the corner of his eye.
Why was I crying?
a/n : omg damn sleepy! i'll reply to the comments for AK47 tomorrow k! this just came up to me all of a sudden. hmm this is actually very embarrassing hehe
Author : chibitanz
Pairing : Akame
Rating : PG 13
Warning : Angst
Disclaimer : Plot
Summary : The voice comes to him and Kame hated it. He hated the voice. So much.
He stares at his own reflection on the mirror length of half of his own height.
Lifting his right index finger, he felt the cold glass and maneuvered the finger to his face in the reflection. He traced the outline of his perfectly shaped face.
Mask.
There, lines starts crawling across his forehead and becomes horrifyingly visible where is not enclosed by his brown highlighted fringes.
His lips curved downwards forming a disgusted glower, an otherwise distortion to his beautiful face nevertheless.
“You’re beautiful,”
Those words had been reiterating in his little mind, over and over again as long as he could remember. He hated it.
You’re ugly as fuck, honestly.
That was what he had often told himself to counter the stereotypes of people who see him on national television, where his façade was always put on.
The façade that guises the emptiness he drowns himself with the absence of a certain someone.
He glares at his own reflection for the last time before he saunters to the balcony attached to his bedroom, feeling about for the white box in his pants pocket.
Leaning on the railing with a blank expression then, he pulled a white coated little stick from the box containing numerous of the same thing. He sticks the cigarette in between his lips and fished a lighter from his front pocket.
It was midautumn. The night was drafty and smoking, at nights like these makes him feel alive. More alive than he was. More alive than he ever was.
Streetlamps flooded the streets under him. People at the size of baby ants make a crowd in some part of the streets after another.
“What are you doing?”
Him again. The voice belongs to one person he didn’t have any fancy in putting his thoughts on came to his mind so naturally that they seemed to be there - even when the person himself wasn’t.
I’m smoking. What else?
And he would answer to that voice in his mind as if it’s only normal that he does.
“You quit.”
Kame nodded absently and agreeing silently. It’s true, he had quit that revolting habit of his for two years already.
I did.
That voice lives in him, Kame knew it very well.
“So why do it again?”
Kame flicked the collected ashes from the tip off the balcony, completely not giving any shit as to whose lucky head the ashes would fall onto.
He shook his head, finely haven’t any idea himself for the question asked.
“It’s not good for your body.”
Kame chuckled darkly, unimpressed.
“Don’t do it.”
He smiled sadly, knowing the fact to control himself from touching cigarettes was easy and could be done in a matter of nanoseconds because he knew himself clearly he was no addict but he wanted to do it.
No matter how much it ails his health, he still wants to do it.
“Please,”
Kame’s smile faded immediately as the word rang in his mind. That one word was what ticks him off the most; what he didn’t want to hear from the voice itself.
Just shut up. He said quietly.
“Please, Kame.” The voice becomes bolder this time.
Shut up, I said. His retort grew louder.
“Kazuya,” The voice hadn’t raised a pitch but only calmly pleading.
Kame flung the unfinished cigarette off the balcony and stomped madly back into his room. His hand flew up to his hair as the voice continued repeating the last word.
“Kazuya,”
Kame fisted his hair and threatened to pull his locks off their roots as he falls face down onto the soft cushion that was his bed.
“Shut up!” He screamed helplessly into the cottony article of blanket. His breathing becomes rapid and his mind was starting to visualize white lights. Dizziness was about to come and slap him into unconsciousness soon.
“I really like you, Kazuya,”
Kame stopped breathing for a moment.
“I know you’ll like me too, given the chance,”
He shook his head slowly as if to shake off those memories from his teenage years from his mind. Those memories he now sees were pushed to the back of his mind and locked safely in an animated drawer and Kame had built walls around the drawer to prevent those thoughts from showing up to the front of his mind again.
The walls were useless. The voice was too strong.
They were so young and had no idea whatsoever about a thing called love. All they felt was mere affection or abundance if not a channel of pleasure.
Kame was sure it had to be the last one for the voice. He was so damn certain.
What do you want from me, Jin?
It was the voice’s turn to chuckle this time while Kame only waited unsurely. “You know what I want,”
No, I don’t.
Kame closed his eyes. In one way or another it seemed to bring him closer to the voice when his visions are blinded.
“You do. You most certainly do.”
He shook his head. I don’t.
Silence.
Are you mad that I don’t?
Kame asked remorseful. What he wouldn’t give for the man who took away the bliss of his love life.
“How can I ever be mad at you, Kazuya?” The voice seemed to smile.
That made Kame felt even sorrier for himself. He didn’t like how the voice would always say such sweet little words to him and as much as he himself and the voice knew how much Kame hated being treated so gently.
“Did you miss me, Kazuya?” The voice asked again.
He nodded. Yes.
Silence.
Did you?
Silence.
“I do.”
Kame smiled to himself.
“Do you want to see me?”
Kame hesitated.
“You do.” The voice decided for him.
Kame gradually relaxes his tensed self and inhaled deeply before his mind was slowly visualizing plenty images of the face he knew oh so well and he’d do anything just to touch the man in his memory again.
I want to touch you. Kame begged.
The man in his mind smiled but that smile was barely registered in Kame’s own eyes because his eyes by then were already pooling with tears.
“Don’t.”
It was a warning. Not from the voice but from himself.
Clumsily he wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.
“You’re not crying for me anymore.” The voice said.
Kame nodded and the man beamed.
The man came so close that their faces were one finger’s gap. Kame wanted to open his eyes because he was unsatisfied with a view so mild. This feels so real and he was really tempted by the urge to disclose his eyes that perhaps the man was really there.
“Don’t open your eyes, Kazuya.” The voice stopped him.
Why?
Kame thought he felt the hand from the man brushing on his own locks almost lovingly.
“Don’t do it.”
Why? Kame asked again, annoyed.
The voice chortled quietly undoubtedly amused as to Kame’s persistence. “Because if you do, you won’t get to see my face anymore.”
Kame gives up. I don’t want that.
“Of course you don’t.” The voice agrees.
When are you going to take me with you?
Silence.
Jin?
Silence again.
The face in his head was starting to fade away and Kame hurries to reach out to grab whatever that’s left of the image but as vivid as it appears to be, it wasn’t.
Kame chased the face in his head. One step closer he takes, ten steps further Jin backs.
He wouldn’t give up. He runs for Jin’s silhouette but Jin was faster.
Kame was tired. His breathing rate increased and Jin had thankfully stopped and he stood there, watching Kame panting.
Why did you run?
Jin’s frown was obvious. “You are not coming with me.”
Jin came back to him. He stood in front of Kame and blew a puff of mist onto his face. Jin caressed his face, his thumb traced the pretty cheekbones of the other man.
Then, Jin’s phantom starts to fade. Everything was disappearing.
No! Kame screamed and instinctively reaches out again but it was useless, Jin was almost gone.
He opened his eyes abruptly and sat awake.
There he was, in the bedroom of his penthouse located in the middle of Tokyo in midautumn and the cool air blew in from the balcony where the door was slid opened wide.
He looked at his hands and sees a drop of water fell to his finger.
Kame touched his eye. He felt another drop of water from the corner of his eye.
Why was I crying?
a/n : omg damn sleepy! i'll reply to the comments for AK47 tomorrow k! this just came up to me all of a sudden. hmm this is actually very embarrassing hehe