体温
Author: evil_queen369
Genre: Angst
Fandom: The GazettE
Pairings: Uruha/Ruki, Aoi/Uruha
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dolls, hints of rape, mentions of character death
Chapter: 1/1
Synopsis: “Where is he?” Ruki’s soft voice filled the air once more as his white eyes focused on the girl. Through his cloudy eyes he could see the sadness in his voice reflected on Hana’s face as she held on to his hand, letting their fingers entwine together like she always did. Her shoulders moved in a shrug to show that she acknowledged the question asked. She had no idea where the other man was, or when he would be returning from wherever he had wandered off to. He was always leaving and returning whenever he pleased, though to Ruki’s dismay. Never once did he mention where he was going, and Ruki and Hana never bothered to ask, knowing how Uruha liked his privacy more than anything else.
Comment: Rewrite of an earlier story.
Along the street, darkened by numerous trees, sat a large, weathered, white house that had began to turn grey in color. Windows were broken, letting the cold and rain in. They had been broken so long ago, after the large storm had hit and ruined the neighborhood, and many of the people who lived in it. Just like the exterior, the inside of the house was damaged as well. Once beautiful rooms became unpleasant and revolting. Wallpaper peeled from the walls where old photos hung lopsided in shattered frames. Photographs of unidentifiable people laid scattered around the floors so ruined that they could hardly be called photos. Long, now brown, curtains hung over four large windows and blew in the wind gusting through the destroyed windows while small fragments of broken glass laid below. In front of one of the windows sat a small, wooden, table covered with a lace tablecloth that seemed to be homemade. Though once beautiful and delicate, it was now torn and hung low to the dirtied floor. No one ever touched the table, no one except the small little girl to whom it belonged to. A small tea set laid scattered on the floor around the table; some of the cups and plates broken beyond repair, while others still kept their form. Sobs sounded through the room as the little girl sat on the floor in front of the table where she used to play. She could never leave the house she once called home, for that unknown force would grab hold of her and pull her back.
Hana was her name, delicate to the touch and small in stature. Long black hair laid in curls over her shoulders, a hat sat on the top of her head and tied in an elegant bow below her chin. A white dress hung from her frame just above her knees, the knees that were covered with white stockings that contrasted almost perfectly with shiny black shoes. Large eyes adorned her face complete with a small nose, pink pouty lips, and chubby cheeks. She stared at the table, her eyes following the tattered lace up to the surface where her tea set had once sat, where some cups remained filled with rain water. Another storm had arrived, and just like the storm from so long ago, it was tearing its’ way through her home. The glasses were overfilling with dark water that ruined the lace further. Nothing she could do could stop the storm from ruining her home or her precious table. As wind ripped through the house, powerful wind that caused her hair to fly in all directions, the table shook almost violently on its weak legs. Hana never took her eyes off the table or the shaking glasses that seemed near tipping. The wind was so loud and strong; the shrill sound pierced through her as the wind grew in strength. That sound, that dreadful, abysmal sound struck her core as tiny pale hands flew up to sensitive ears to muffle the horrid racket. Eyes squeezed shut as the hold on her ears increased and her mouth opened to elicit a loud cry as the table continued to shake and the glasses shattered, causing water to fly in every direction. Bending down further, she shielded her face from the shattered glass soaring toward her.
“Hana…” The voice was barely noticeable over the harsh sound of the girl’s cries. On the couch on the far end of the room sat a small man clad in white. His eyes trained on the figure of the girl, though his vision was hazy and obscured. His gaze shifted from the girl whose screams grew louder, to instead focus on the grimy floor where he stared lifelessly, waiting for the girl to calm down. Every storm was essentially the same in every aspect; the windows would shatter just a bit more, the rain would enter the house and cause a musky smell to dominate over the house, and Hana would sit in front of the table and simply watch as her prized possession became more and more destroyed. Soon, silence filled the air as the child looked over her shoulder with tears in her eyes. Tiny pieces of glass fell from her hair and dress as she stood from the floor to walk slowly and carefully towards the man whose attention was now solely on her.
“Yes Ruki?” Her voice was soft and quiet as she reached the man, and slowly sat down beside him on the tattered leather couch where the man shifted to rest his head on her shoulder. He was broken, far more broken than she ever was, and though there was a large difference in age between the two of them, Hana was the one to care for the man. As she looked over Ruki’s form, her eyes caught the sight of the worn thread connected to dilapidated fingers. The strings tied around her own fingers were just as worn and damaged with the same amount of decayed flesh hanging loosely from her digits.
“Where is he?” Ruki’s soft voice filled the air once more as his white eyes focused on the girl. Through his cloudy eyes he could see the sadness in his voice reflected on Hana’s face as she held on to his hand, letting their fingers entwine together like she always did. Her shoulders moved in a shrug to show that she acknowledged the question asked. She had no idea where the other man was, or when he would be returning from wherever he had wandered off to. He was always leaving and returning whenever he pleased, though to Ruki’s dismay. Never once did he mention where he was going, and Ruki and Hana never bothered to ask, knowing how Uruha liked his privacy more than anything else.
“He’s not back yet.” Hana replied as she ran her fingers over the strings on Ruki’s hand. She sighed softly as Ruki turned away from her and stared down at the floor silently. Uruha had promised to be home, yet he was still gone. It wasn’t enough that he had left without much word, but now he was out during the storm that Ruki knew the other man couldn’t handle.
“He said he’d be back by now.” He sighed as he pulled away from Hana almost harshly. He didn’t want to sit around and worry about the whereabouts of his lover; he had to do something to take his mind off him. Standing proved to be difficult for the man, for every time he would rise he would fall back to the couch below. After so many years of lying around completely useless to all, he could no longer support his own weight. It must have been nice to be Uruha; he could move around and leave as he pleased. Uruha didn’t have to worry about loneliness and discomfort like Ruki. “Hana, do you think he leaves because he is not like this? Uruha is not as much a doll as I. The doll maker made me like this, you know that. He died before he could complete Uruha. Though Uruha lives his life as a doll, he still has characteristics of a human.” Ruki rattled off as he stared across the room where the door stood hopefully. Perhaps Uruha would walk through the door safe and sound if he stared long enough with enough anticipation.
“You are no different than anyone else.” Hana spoke softly, running her hands through Ruki’s blonde hair. To her, Ruki was normal because they were the same. They were both just rejected projects who were shunned. They weren’t normal at all, and she knew that, but the life she lived was all she could remember and that was why it was so ordinary. All she knew was the life of a doll used for amusement. The strings around her fingers were used by the doll maker so she could be pulled around roughly and played with. She was a living doll that no one wanted, just like all the others, and no one understood them to any extent. All of them were left behind in the house, though many laid in the basement smashed and ruined by their own hands. “Uruha would never leave just because he is not like us. He feels different than the two of us, but he is unique; he was the doll maker’s favorite project. To him, the difference is nonexistent. Uruha loves you for what you are, even if you were rejected and unwanted.”
Ruki sat quietly for a moment. The doll maker loved Uruha more than any of the other dolls. In his old age, the doll maker would work to complete Uruha for hours on end before putting the doll away for the night. The feminine doll was abhorred by the other creations for being the beloved favorite of the doll maker. “Maybe he is in the other room. Could you go look for me, please?” He asked almost desperately as he grabbed the girl’s arm tightly, ignoring the wince sent his way. He had to know where Uruha had wandered off to. The thought of what could happen to him irritated him and made him anxious. If he had to, he’d make Hana search the whole neighborhood until the other man was found, even it was impossible for her to go too far; Hana could only go as far as the end of the woods before she had to turn around and return. Only Uruha could leave without an unknown force pulling him back.
“H-hai.” Hana stuttered as she stood up slowly and pulled her arm away from the tight grip. She walked across the floor in an almost zombie-like state as Ruki watched her sadly. Other than Uruha, Hana was the only thing he had in his life. It wasn’t a life that he wanted to live, for he didn’t like what he was. All he wanted was to be normal; he didn’t want to live in the disturbing house he was created in. He didn’t want to sit around depending on a small girl and a favored doll for survival. He wanted a normal life, even if it was only like Uruha’s.
“He’s not coming.” He muttered to himself more than anyone else. His head rested against the back of the couch as he looked up at the ceiling and waited for Hana to return.
Hana searched every room of the house for Uruha, but she knew he wasn’t there. Ruki expected the other man to be home, and Hana knew he would be heartbroken if she went back and said he wasn’t in the house at all. He’d look up at her with sad eyes and ask where he was even though he knew that she was just as clueless. Biting her lip and turning on her heel, she left to return back the man on the couch.
“Ruki, I did not find him.” Hana put her fingers in her mouth as a childish habit while she stood in the doorway staring at the man. She half expected Ruki to sigh heavily and look to the floor while falling even more silent than he usually was, but he only looked at her with a begging expression and tears in his eyes.
“Check outside.” And Hana nodded as she made her way through the house towards the large door. She walked out into the gloomy storm that was slowly beginning to calm down. It was never pleasant outside of the house, nor was it very pleasant inside. The surrounding trees were dead and branches laid scattered around the yard, the clouds remained dark and gloomy as rain continued to fall from the skies above. Below, her feet stepped on weeds and through muddy puddles. The harsh cold ate at her porcelain skin; it was too cold for her liking, but she couldn’t go inside empty-handed.
“Uruha?” She called walking further away from the house towards the woods. Uruha would often wander around the woods when he wanted to be completely alone. She only knew of that one detail because she would sometimes watch him from an upstairs window. The curiosity ate at her until she decided to watch as Uruha left one day. Of course, Hana knew better than to follow him or bother him when he was alone, whether Ruki had wanted him or not. After the doll maker had died while out in the woods, Uruha was free to leave whenever he pleased. Aoi’s body had decomposed, and all traces of there ever being a doll maker vanished. After Aoi had died, his servant walked out knowing that he too was free, and would never again be pushed around or forced to do anything again. Kai wasn’t the type to follow the orders of a selfish man such as Aoi. Now, Aoi can no longer stand high on the stage he had forced Kai to build in the basement. Uruha, as well as Hana and Ruki, were no longer pulled around by the strings on their fingers like they were marionettes. They no longer had to be humiliated as Aoi’s audiences laughed and cheered. They all thought life would become easier for them after Aoi’s demise, but it only became harder.
Hana walked slowly, yet carefully, through the woods as she turned at specific corners. Uruha’s footprints were embedded in the muddy earth below, so she followed them the best she could without getting dirtier than she already was. The sound of thunder rolling in the distance let her know that she had to find the man fast before the storm worsened again therefore, she quickened her pace and ran through the woods until she stood in front of Uruha as he sat against a tree.
“Uruha?” Hana placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The doll sat almost lifelessly as he stared at the dead and broken trees surrounding him. They stood so high above him, but there were branches hanging on by a thread from the harsh winds caused by the previous storm. The surrounding area was so ugly, yet beautiful in its own way. Uruha loved to spend his time there thinking. It was like his own haven that no one knew about, except Hana.
“You shouldn’t be out in this storm.” He spoke softly to the small girl who only looked down at him with a frown. It was cold out, and even though she wasn’t human and couldn’t get sick, he didn’t want her to be outside mainly so her porcelain skin wouldn’t crack due to the cold. Hana’s porcelain skin was white and pure, and more beautiful than any other doll’s. It would have been a shame for her to be cracked and lose her outer beauty.
“Ruki told me to find you.” Hana’s voice was so soft it was almost a whisper against the winds. Uruha glanced at her briefly before pulling her down to his lap. Ruki was always sending Hana out to find him, it seemed. He rested his chin on her shoulder and played with the ends of her dress absentmindedly. For hours he had sat there thinking about everything and nothing at all. Although he was free to leave as he pleased, there was still one thing keeping him bound to the house: Ruki. He couldn’t leave the other doll, but Ruki was pathetic and lifeless and served no purpose. That was the reason Aoi decided to create a new doll that was both tall and beautiful. Everyone had loved Uruha when he was created, but the other creations hated him because he was so perfect. Aoi loved Uruha, and Uruha was the last doll to be created before Aoi passed away.
Even though Uruha lived in the house with the rest of Aoi’s creations, he left as often as he could. He couldn’t stand the stares he got from the few remaining dolls that were scattered around. Most of them were broken fragments that could no longer move, and most of them couldn’t function, but whether they could or not didn’t matter because they still had hateful looks on their faces every time Uruha saw one. He was hated merely because he was favored, not because of who he was. Only Ruki and Hana were accepting, but even they had disliked him in the beginning until Aoi made the mistake of leaving his new dolls with the old ones he intended to throw out. But Uruha liked Ruki and Hana too much, and Aoi couldn’t get rid of them.
“The storm is getting worse. Ruki is worried about you.” Hana’s voice was almost monotone as she raised her voice against the large gust of wind that blew their hair around wildly in all directions. She clung to the arms wrapped around her and bowed her head because the wind was shooting straight at her and made it hard to breathe.
Uruha helped the girl stand and took her by the hand as he led her back through the trees and mud toward the house. The wind grew in intensity and made it hard for Hana to walk. If Uruha hadn’t been holding her hand, she would have been taken back. There had always been storms ever since Aoi died. In the past, they were weak storms that hardly damaged the exterior of the house, but as the years went by and Aoi’s spirit grew more and more angry with the thought of his precious favored doll loving that mistake and imperfect piece of trash, the storms became violent and ripped through his home. Maybe it wasn’t Aoi’s spirit, maybe Uruha was just going crazy from all the time spent inside the house. It sure seemed as if it were Aoi because the more time Uruha spent with Ruki, the more storms occurred. The stronger his feelings grew, the more intense the storms became.
A sigh passed through porcelain lips. The doll maker was a sick man who used his creations to his advantage. All the other dolls were jealous of Uruha’s beauty while Uruha only wished he was one of the rejected dolls that were said to be hideous. Every touch to his body made images flash through his head of Aoi, even if it were Hana touching his hand to get his attention. He wasn’t just pulled around by the strings attached to his fingers, and he wasn’t just used to entertain audiences full of people who had paid good money to see Aoi’s dolls. Uruha was a different type of doll than Ruki and Hana and all the others littering the house in fragments. Every thought and every memory made him sick to his stomach; Aoi had created him just to abuse him.
As he reached the house, he could see Ruki sitting silently with his eyes trained on the wall opposite him. He hadn’t moved a muscle, and as Uruha and Hana walked in and stood perfectly still like the dolls they were, they could see the hurt in his eyes. It was almost as if he had been rejected, and in a sense he had because Uruha never stayed with him anymore. He was rejected over and over again, and it seemed as if it wouldn’t be long before that rejection consumed him. Uruha had no interest in him anymore because he had no interest in being a doll. He hated what he was even though he was adored by Ruki. But Ruki wasn’t enough; Ruki was corrupt even though Uruha continuously told him he was beautiful and perfect. But Ruki could hear the lies in every word, yet he still held on to Uruha for dear life because he needed him.
A/N: I sent this to erikaoi awhile back for feedback, and she told me I should finish it. I've had a lot on my plate recently, but I've decided to finally sit down and finish it the best I could with little inspiration. It's something I've been meaning to work on for years now, and it's time to finally post it. I'm not 100% sure if I had actually posted the original story to my old account, but I vaguely remember someone telling me the story behind Taion. If I did post this (and again, I abandoned that account and I won't look back) and you read it, you will see that it's much more detailed and longer in length, but not by much. I put a lot of thought and effort into it over the years, so I hope anyone who does read it can see just how much I put into it. The ending may not seem like it's done, but I really didn't want to bring it to a complete end; I wanted the readers to form their own ending, which is something I don't often do with my writing. Usually I want to be in complete control, but I decided to hand it over to the readers this time.
Yes, it's Uruha/Ruki, which is a pairing I don't write about too often. This is the only time I'll use that pairing. Many people only know me for writing Aoi/Uruha, but the story itself is set in the house used for the Taion pv. Ruki is the main character by default, and although the original pairing of this story was Reita/Ruki, I decided to switch things up and try something new. There was Aoi/Uruha, but not like usual.
Just a side note, because I somewhat find it important, this is the story that also inspired me to write Finish It, which I'm assuming you could figure out on your own seeing as they both involve dolls. Both this story and the series have different moods. Both are seemingly depressing in their own ways, but Finish It, A Light, and The Last Man were all gory and dealt with character death.
With all the that aside, I hope you guys like it and leave a comment. Even if you don't like it, it would be nice if you commented just to let me know you read it. I know the pairing is weird coming from me, but I'm still keeping my word and writing a new Aoi/Uruha story for you guys to replace Here is no Why. I also decided to finally x-post this to other communities, so if you go looking for it again you'll have to check my fan fiction archive otherwise you'll be backtracking through the community a bit.
Genre: Angst
Fandom: The GazettE
Pairings: Uruha/Ruki, Aoi/Uruha
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dolls, hints of rape, mentions of character death
Chapter: 1/1
Synopsis: “Where is he?” Ruki’s soft voice filled the air once more as his white eyes focused on the girl. Through his cloudy eyes he could see the sadness in his voice reflected on Hana’s face as she held on to his hand, letting their fingers entwine together like she always did. Her shoulders moved in a shrug to show that she acknowledged the question asked. She had no idea where the other man was, or when he would be returning from wherever he had wandered off to. He was always leaving and returning whenever he pleased, though to Ruki’s dismay. Never once did he mention where he was going, and Ruki and Hana never bothered to ask, knowing how Uruha liked his privacy more than anything else.
Comment: Rewrite of an earlier story.
Along the street, darkened by numerous trees, sat a large, weathered, white house that had began to turn grey in color. Windows were broken, letting the cold and rain in. They had been broken so long ago, after the large storm had hit and ruined the neighborhood, and many of the people who lived in it. Just like the exterior, the inside of the house was damaged as well. Once beautiful rooms became unpleasant and revolting. Wallpaper peeled from the walls where old photos hung lopsided in shattered frames. Photographs of unidentifiable people laid scattered around the floors so ruined that they could hardly be called photos. Long, now brown, curtains hung over four large windows and blew in the wind gusting through the destroyed windows while small fragments of broken glass laid below. In front of one of the windows sat a small, wooden, table covered with a lace tablecloth that seemed to be homemade. Though once beautiful and delicate, it was now torn and hung low to the dirtied floor. No one ever touched the table, no one except the small little girl to whom it belonged to. A small tea set laid scattered on the floor around the table; some of the cups and plates broken beyond repair, while others still kept their form. Sobs sounded through the room as the little girl sat on the floor in front of the table where she used to play. She could never leave the house she once called home, for that unknown force would grab hold of her and pull her back.
Hana was her name, delicate to the touch and small in stature. Long black hair laid in curls over her shoulders, a hat sat on the top of her head and tied in an elegant bow below her chin. A white dress hung from her frame just above her knees, the knees that were covered with white stockings that contrasted almost perfectly with shiny black shoes. Large eyes adorned her face complete with a small nose, pink pouty lips, and chubby cheeks. She stared at the table, her eyes following the tattered lace up to the surface where her tea set had once sat, where some cups remained filled with rain water. Another storm had arrived, and just like the storm from so long ago, it was tearing its’ way through her home. The glasses were overfilling with dark water that ruined the lace further. Nothing she could do could stop the storm from ruining her home or her precious table. As wind ripped through the house, powerful wind that caused her hair to fly in all directions, the table shook almost violently on its weak legs. Hana never took her eyes off the table or the shaking glasses that seemed near tipping. The wind was so loud and strong; the shrill sound pierced through her as the wind grew in strength. That sound, that dreadful, abysmal sound struck her core as tiny pale hands flew up to sensitive ears to muffle the horrid racket. Eyes squeezed shut as the hold on her ears increased and her mouth opened to elicit a loud cry as the table continued to shake and the glasses shattered, causing water to fly in every direction. Bending down further, she shielded her face from the shattered glass soaring toward her.
“Hana…” The voice was barely noticeable over the harsh sound of the girl’s cries. On the couch on the far end of the room sat a small man clad in white. His eyes trained on the figure of the girl, though his vision was hazy and obscured. His gaze shifted from the girl whose screams grew louder, to instead focus on the grimy floor where he stared lifelessly, waiting for the girl to calm down. Every storm was essentially the same in every aspect; the windows would shatter just a bit more, the rain would enter the house and cause a musky smell to dominate over the house, and Hana would sit in front of the table and simply watch as her prized possession became more and more destroyed. Soon, silence filled the air as the child looked over her shoulder with tears in her eyes. Tiny pieces of glass fell from her hair and dress as she stood from the floor to walk slowly and carefully towards the man whose attention was now solely on her.
“Yes Ruki?” Her voice was soft and quiet as she reached the man, and slowly sat down beside him on the tattered leather couch where the man shifted to rest his head on her shoulder. He was broken, far more broken than she ever was, and though there was a large difference in age between the two of them, Hana was the one to care for the man. As she looked over Ruki’s form, her eyes caught the sight of the worn thread connected to dilapidated fingers. The strings tied around her own fingers were just as worn and damaged with the same amount of decayed flesh hanging loosely from her digits.
“Where is he?” Ruki’s soft voice filled the air once more as his white eyes focused on the girl. Through his cloudy eyes he could see the sadness in his voice reflected on Hana’s face as she held on to his hand, letting their fingers entwine together like she always did. Her shoulders moved in a shrug to show that she acknowledged the question asked. She had no idea where the other man was, or when he would be returning from wherever he had wandered off to. He was always leaving and returning whenever he pleased, though to Ruki’s dismay. Never once did he mention where he was going, and Ruki and Hana never bothered to ask, knowing how Uruha liked his privacy more than anything else.
“He’s not back yet.” Hana replied as she ran her fingers over the strings on Ruki’s hand. She sighed softly as Ruki turned away from her and stared down at the floor silently. Uruha had promised to be home, yet he was still gone. It wasn’t enough that he had left without much word, but now he was out during the storm that Ruki knew the other man couldn’t handle.
“He said he’d be back by now.” He sighed as he pulled away from Hana almost harshly. He didn’t want to sit around and worry about the whereabouts of his lover; he had to do something to take his mind off him. Standing proved to be difficult for the man, for every time he would rise he would fall back to the couch below. After so many years of lying around completely useless to all, he could no longer support his own weight. It must have been nice to be Uruha; he could move around and leave as he pleased. Uruha didn’t have to worry about loneliness and discomfort like Ruki. “Hana, do you think he leaves because he is not like this? Uruha is not as much a doll as I. The doll maker made me like this, you know that. He died before he could complete Uruha. Though Uruha lives his life as a doll, he still has characteristics of a human.” Ruki rattled off as he stared across the room where the door stood hopefully. Perhaps Uruha would walk through the door safe and sound if he stared long enough with enough anticipation.
“You are no different than anyone else.” Hana spoke softly, running her hands through Ruki’s blonde hair. To her, Ruki was normal because they were the same. They were both just rejected projects who were shunned. They weren’t normal at all, and she knew that, but the life she lived was all she could remember and that was why it was so ordinary. All she knew was the life of a doll used for amusement. The strings around her fingers were used by the doll maker so she could be pulled around roughly and played with. She was a living doll that no one wanted, just like all the others, and no one understood them to any extent. All of them were left behind in the house, though many laid in the basement smashed and ruined by their own hands. “Uruha would never leave just because he is not like us. He feels different than the two of us, but he is unique; he was the doll maker’s favorite project. To him, the difference is nonexistent. Uruha loves you for what you are, even if you were rejected and unwanted.”
Ruki sat quietly for a moment. The doll maker loved Uruha more than any of the other dolls. In his old age, the doll maker would work to complete Uruha for hours on end before putting the doll away for the night. The feminine doll was abhorred by the other creations for being the beloved favorite of the doll maker. “Maybe he is in the other room. Could you go look for me, please?” He asked almost desperately as he grabbed the girl’s arm tightly, ignoring the wince sent his way. He had to know where Uruha had wandered off to. The thought of what could happen to him irritated him and made him anxious. If he had to, he’d make Hana search the whole neighborhood until the other man was found, even it was impossible for her to go too far; Hana could only go as far as the end of the woods before she had to turn around and return. Only Uruha could leave without an unknown force pulling him back.
“H-hai.” Hana stuttered as she stood up slowly and pulled her arm away from the tight grip. She walked across the floor in an almost zombie-like state as Ruki watched her sadly. Other than Uruha, Hana was the only thing he had in his life. It wasn’t a life that he wanted to live, for he didn’t like what he was. All he wanted was to be normal; he didn’t want to live in the disturbing house he was created in. He didn’t want to sit around depending on a small girl and a favored doll for survival. He wanted a normal life, even if it was only like Uruha’s.
“He’s not coming.” He muttered to himself more than anyone else. His head rested against the back of the couch as he looked up at the ceiling and waited for Hana to return.
Hana searched every room of the house for Uruha, but she knew he wasn’t there. Ruki expected the other man to be home, and Hana knew he would be heartbroken if she went back and said he wasn’t in the house at all. He’d look up at her with sad eyes and ask where he was even though he knew that she was just as clueless. Biting her lip and turning on her heel, she left to return back the man on the couch.
“Ruki, I did not find him.” Hana put her fingers in her mouth as a childish habit while she stood in the doorway staring at the man. She half expected Ruki to sigh heavily and look to the floor while falling even more silent than he usually was, but he only looked at her with a begging expression and tears in his eyes.
“Check outside.” And Hana nodded as she made her way through the house towards the large door. She walked out into the gloomy storm that was slowly beginning to calm down. It was never pleasant outside of the house, nor was it very pleasant inside. The surrounding trees were dead and branches laid scattered around the yard, the clouds remained dark and gloomy as rain continued to fall from the skies above. Below, her feet stepped on weeds and through muddy puddles. The harsh cold ate at her porcelain skin; it was too cold for her liking, but she couldn’t go inside empty-handed.
“Uruha?” She called walking further away from the house towards the woods. Uruha would often wander around the woods when he wanted to be completely alone. She only knew of that one detail because she would sometimes watch him from an upstairs window. The curiosity ate at her until she decided to watch as Uruha left one day. Of course, Hana knew better than to follow him or bother him when he was alone, whether Ruki had wanted him or not. After the doll maker had died while out in the woods, Uruha was free to leave whenever he pleased. Aoi’s body had decomposed, and all traces of there ever being a doll maker vanished. After Aoi had died, his servant walked out knowing that he too was free, and would never again be pushed around or forced to do anything again. Kai wasn’t the type to follow the orders of a selfish man such as Aoi. Now, Aoi can no longer stand high on the stage he had forced Kai to build in the basement. Uruha, as well as Hana and Ruki, were no longer pulled around by the strings on their fingers like they were marionettes. They no longer had to be humiliated as Aoi’s audiences laughed and cheered. They all thought life would become easier for them after Aoi’s demise, but it only became harder.
Hana walked slowly, yet carefully, through the woods as she turned at specific corners. Uruha’s footprints were embedded in the muddy earth below, so she followed them the best she could without getting dirtier than she already was. The sound of thunder rolling in the distance let her know that she had to find the man fast before the storm worsened again therefore, she quickened her pace and ran through the woods until she stood in front of Uruha as he sat against a tree.
“Uruha?” Hana placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The doll sat almost lifelessly as he stared at the dead and broken trees surrounding him. They stood so high above him, but there were branches hanging on by a thread from the harsh winds caused by the previous storm. The surrounding area was so ugly, yet beautiful in its own way. Uruha loved to spend his time there thinking. It was like his own haven that no one knew about, except Hana.
“You shouldn’t be out in this storm.” He spoke softly to the small girl who only looked down at him with a frown. It was cold out, and even though she wasn’t human and couldn’t get sick, he didn’t want her to be outside mainly so her porcelain skin wouldn’t crack due to the cold. Hana’s porcelain skin was white and pure, and more beautiful than any other doll’s. It would have been a shame for her to be cracked and lose her outer beauty.
“Ruki told me to find you.” Hana’s voice was so soft it was almost a whisper against the winds. Uruha glanced at her briefly before pulling her down to his lap. Ruki was always sending Hana out to find him, it seemed. He rested his chin on her shoulder and played with the ends of her dress absentmindedly. For hours he had sat there thinking about everything and nothing at all. Although he was free to leave as he pleased, there was still one thing keeping him bound to the house: Ruki. He couldn’t leave the other doll, but Ruki was pathetic and lifeless and served no purpose. That was the reason Aoi decided to create a new doll that was both tall and beautiful. Everyone had loved Uruha when he was created, but the other creations hated him because he was so perfect. Aoi loved Uruha, and Uruha was the last doll to be created before Aoi passed away.
Even though Uruha lived in the house with the rest of Aoi’s creations, he left as often as he could. He couldn’t stand the stares he got from the few remaining dolls that were scattered around. Most of them were broken fragments that could no longer move, and most of them couldn’t function, but whether they could or not didn’t matter because they still had hateful looks on their faces every time Uruha saw one. He was hated merely because he was favored, not because of who he was. Only Ruki and Hana were accepting, but even they had disliked him in the beginning until Aoi made the mistake of leaving his new dolls with the old ones he intended to throw out. But Uruha liked Ruki and Hana too much, and Aoi couldn’t get rid of them.
“The storm is getting worse. Ruki is worried about you.” Hana’s voice was almost monotone as she raised her voice against the large gust of wind that blew their hair around wildly in all directions. She clung to the arms wrapped around her and bowed her head because the wind was shooting straight at her and made it hard to breathe.
Uruha helped the girl stand and took her by the hand as he led her back through the trees and mud toward the house. The wind grew in intensity and made it hard for Hana to walk. If Uruha hadn’t been holding her hand, she would have been taken back. There had always been storms ever since Aoi died. In the past, they were weak storms that hardly damaged the exterior of the house, but as the years went by and Aoi’s spirit grew more and more angry with the thought of his precious favored doll loving that mistake and imperfect piece of trash, the storms became violent and ripped through his home. Maybe it wasn’t Aoi’s spirit, maybe Uruha was just going crazy from all the time spent inside the house. It sure seemed as if it were Aoi because the more time Uruha spent with Ruki, the more storms occurred. The stronger his feelings grew, the more intense the storms became.
A sigh passed through porcelain lips. The doll maker was a sick man who used his creations to his advantage. All the other dolls were jealous of Uruha’s beauty while Uruha only wished he was one of the rejected dolls that were said to be hideous. Every touch to his body made images flash through his head of Aoi, even if it were Hana touching his hand to get his attention. He wasn’t just pulled around by the strings attached to his fingers, and he wasn’t just used to entertain audiences full of people who had paid good money to see Aoi’s dolls. Uruha was a different type of doll than Ruki and Hana and all the others littering the house in fragments. Every thought and every memory made him sick to his stomach; Aoi had created him just to abuse him.
As he reached the house, he could see Ruki sitting silently with his eyes trained on the wall opposite him. He hadn’t moved a muscle, and as Uruha and Hana walked in and stood perfectly still like the dolls they were, they could see the hurt in his eyes. It was almost as if he had been rejected, and in a sense he had because Uruha never stayed with him anymore. He was rejected over and over again, and it seemed as if it wouldn’t be long before that rejection consumed him. Uruha had no interest in him anymore because he had no interest in being a doll. He hated what he was even though he was adored by Ruki. But Ruki wasn’t enough; Ruki was corrupt even though Uruha continuously told him he was beautiful and perfect. But Ruki could hear the lies in every word, yet he still held on to Uruha for dear life because he needed him.
A/N: I sent this to erikaoi awhile back for feedback, and she told me I should finish it. I've had a lot on my plate recently, but I've decided to finally sit down and finish it the best I could with little inspiration. It's something I've been meaning to work on for years now, and it's time to finally post it. I'm not 100% sure if I had actually posted the original story to my old account, but I vaguely remember someone telling me the story behind Taion. If I did post this (and again, I abandoned that account and I won't look back) and you read it, you will see that it's much more detailed and longer in length, but not by much. I put a lot of thought and effort into it over the years, so I hope anyone who does read it can see just how much I put into it. The ending may not seem like it's done, but I really didn't want to bring it to a complete end; I wanted the readers to form their own ending, which is something I don't often do with my writing. Usually I want to be in complete control, but I decided to hand it over to the readers this time.
Yes, it's Uruha/Ruki, which is a pairing I don't write about too often. This is the only time I'll use that pairing. Many people only know me for writing Aoi/Uruha, but the story itself is set in the house used for the Taion pv. Ruki is the main character by default, and although the original pairing of this story was Reita/Ruki, I decided to switch things up and try something new. There was Aoi/Uruha, but not like usual.
Just a side note, because I somewhat find it important, this is the story that also inspired me to write Finish It, which I'm assuming you could figure out on your own seeing as they both involve dolls. Both this story and the series have different moods. Both are seemingly depressing in their own ways, but Finish It, A Light, and The Last Man were all gory and dealt with character death.
With all the that aside, I hope you guys like it and leave a comment. Even if you don't like it, it would be nice if you commented just to let me know you read it. I know the pairing is weird coming from me, but I'm still keeping my word and writing a new Aoi/Uruha story for you guys to replace Here is no Why. I also decided to finally x-post this to other communities, so if you go looking for it again you'll have to check my fan fiction archive otherwise you'll be backtracking through the community a bit.