[Fic] Return to Sender: 01- Reita/Ruki
Title: Return to Sender
Chapter: 1/1
Author: evilgeniuskoji
Beta: visualcomplex
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Prompt: Lasts: last love letter, 15memories
Genre: Angst, romance
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death
Summary: Three years of secreted letters, up in flames. Say goodbye properly and put aside your regrets; you won't live wholly otherwise.
Comments: God, I am so late on this challenge. I hope I'm not thrown out for it. >>;; Unbeta'd since my beta seems to be busy, and the lyrics used below are Reila by the GazettE, translations from gazette_lyrics. Hope it turned out alright.
I think that you were always like that.
You were going to somewhere.
Ruki paused in the middle of his writing and strained his ears. Sure enough, a soft pattering of rain came down on the roof of his car. It ran down the front of his windshield, smearing the glass with watery lines.
He rolled up the windows despite the stuffiness inside the car, and carefully flattened out the sheet of paper against the dashboard He brought the pencil down again, but paused to recollect his thoughts, licking his lips.
Smearing graphite on paper, the characters flowed across the page, bold and strong. His penmanship had improved over the years, as well as the complexity of the kanji he began to use, to the point where he knew that Reita would’ve given up in disgust and dug out a dictionary if he’d ever received it.
Thankfully he’d never had, and three year’s worth of letters remained locked in the corner of Ruki's drawer.
They were here now. The letter would be sent this time.
We can go somewhere tomorrow, if you want to.
We will go there for sure, no matter where may be.
The bubble of silence blocked him off from the world, interrupted only by the rain drumming softly against the window and the scritch-scratch of his pencil over paper. He rubbed out a phrase that didn’t sound right and brushed away the stray pieces of eraser crumbs. When his phone rang, he nearly jumped, startled out of his thoughts.
The screen announced the caller to be Uruha. He picked up the phone, setting the pencil down into the little groove along the dashboard. “Hello?”
“Ruki.” Uruha sounded strained and a little tense, unusual for a man usually laidback. A strange underlying grief tinged his voice. “Ruki, he’s gone.”
And the rain pounded down.
Open your eyes and laugh, show me that it's all a lie.
Months later, his eyes fell on the unfinished love letter and something inside him cracked. His hand reached out and crushed it into a little ball, shoving it into a used tissue box. He didn’t think, didn’t let doubt and self-preservation kick in and save him from the pain. The rain came down again as he drew out a fresh sheet of paper and began to write.
I'm trying to call out your name,
but this voice does not reach you.
Rain trickled down his neck and past his collar, but he didn’t care. It left crystal-trimmed trees and rainbow-colored puddles all along the road. His footsteps were wet and noisy on the gravel as he climbed up the winding steps.
The tombstone bore signs of the recent storm. Rain dripped down either side like lazy paint, and darkened the bits of stone to a different shade of gray. But despite the moisture in the air, the clouds seemed calm and serene.
Ruki couldn’t tear his eyes away from the deeply engraved name down on the modest grave, still looking fresh though it had been cut months before. Old offerings had been swept away and now the grave was empty save for a pot of incense, covered in ash-but he’d brought no incense sticks today.
From one pocket he drew out the first love letter-still sealed from the day he wrote it. In the other he found his lighter and flicked the flame to life. He nursed it against the wind and hesitated a split-second before setting it to the edge of the envelope. It browned, then blackened, and then flames licked up the sides until the ash drifted away on the wind.
The second, third, and fourth letters burned up much quicker.
He lost count of them after that, but the reckless emotions rising within him drained away when he pulled out the last letter. The lighter dipped down, then stopped as he hesitated yet again.
In that moment, the flame went out, and no amount of flicking would bring it back to life again.
“Out of oil,” Ruki mused aloud, but secretly knew it was more complicated than that. He turned the letter over in his hands, then sat on his haunches and propped it up against the grave. Mustering up a sad smile, he whispered “Bye, ‘kira,” and left.
The sky opened up again, and streaked the enveloped in a soggy trail of tears and rain . When the water reached the blue lettering penned in the center, the ink blurred and smudged, till the name faded away.
In the distance, the wind carried the ashes of his feelings to the sky.
To Akira,
I loved you.
Chapter: 1/1
Author: evilgeniuskoji
Beta: visualcomplex
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Prompt: Lasts: last love letter, 15memories
Genre: Angst, romance
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death
Summary: Three years of secreted letters, up in flames. Say goodbye properly and put aside your regrets; you won't live wholly otherwise.
Comments: God, I am so late on this challenge. I hope I'm not thrown out for it. >>;; Unbeta'd since my beta seems to be busy, and the lyrics used below are Reila by the GazettE, translations from gazette_lyrics. Hope it turned out alright.
I think that you were always like that.
You were going to somewhere.
Ruki paused in the middle of his writing and strained his ears. Sure enough, a soft pattering of rain came down on the roof of his car. It ran down the front of his windshield, smearing the glass with watery lines.
He rolled up the windows despite the stuffiness inside the car, and carefully flattened out the sheet of paper against the dashboard He brought the pencil down again, but paused to recollect his thoughts, licking his lips.
Smearing graphite on paper, the characters flowed across the page, bold and strong. His penmanship had improved over the years, as well as the complexity of the kanji he began to use, to the point where he knew that Reita would’ve given up in disgust and dug out a dictionary if he’d ever received it.
Thankfully he’d never had, and three year’s worth of letters remained locked in the corner of Ruki's drawer.
They were here now. The letter would be sent this time.
We can go somewhere tomorrow, if you want to.
We will go there for sure, no matter where may be.
The bubble of silence blocked him off from the world, interrupted only by the rain drumming softly against the window and the scritch-scratch of his pencil over paper. He rubbed out a phrase that didn’t sound right and brushed away the stray pieces of eraser crumbs. When his phone rang, he nearly jumped, startled out of his thoughts.
The screen announced the caller to be Uruha. He picked up the phone, setting the pencil down into the little groove along the dashboard. “Hello?”
“Ruki.” Uruha sounded strained and a little tense, unusual for a man usually laidback. A strange underlying grief tinged his voice. “Ruki, he’s gone.”
And the rain pounded down.
Open your eyes and laugh, show me that it's all a lie.
Months later, his eyes fell on the unfinished love letter and something inside him cracked. His hand reached out and crushed it into a little ball, shoving it into a used tissue box. He didn’t think, didn’t let doubt and self-preservation kick in and save him from the pain. The rain came down again as he drew out a fresh sheet of paper and began to write.
I'm trying to call out your name,
but this voice does not reach you.
Rain trickled down his neck and past his collar, but he didn’t care. It left crystal-trimmed trees and rainbow-colored puddles all along the road. His footsteps were wet and noisy on the gravel as he climbed up the winding steps.
The tombstone bore signs of the recent storm. Rain dripped down either side like lazy paint, and darkened the bits of stone to a different shade of gray. But despite the moisture in the air, the clouds seemed calm and serene.
Ruki couldn’t tear his eyes away from the deeply engraved name down on the modest grave, still looking fresh though it had been cut months before. Old offerings had been swept away and now the grave was empty save for a pot of incense, covered in ash-but he’d brought no incense sticks today.
From one pocket he drew out the first love letter-still sealed from the day he wrote it. In the other he found his lighter and flicked the flame to life. He nursed it against the wind and hesitated a split-second before setting it to the edge of the envelope. It browned, then blackened, and then flames licked up the sides until the ash drifted away on the wind.
The second, third, and fourth letters burned up much quicker.
He lost count of them after that, but the reckless emotions rising within him drained away when he pulled out the last letter. The lighter dipped down, then stopped as he hesitated yet again.
In that moment, the flame went out, and no amount of flicking would bring it back to life again.
“Out of oil,” Ruki mused aloud, but secretly knew it was more complicated than that. He turned the letter over in his hands, then sat on his haunches and propped it up against the grave. Mustering up a sad smile, he whispered “Bye, ‘kira,” and left.
The sky opened up again, and streaked the enveloped in a soggy trail of tears and rain . When the water reached the blue lettering penned in the center, the ink blurred and smudged, till the name faded away.
In the distance, the wind carried the ashes of his feelings to the sky.
To Akira,
I loved you.