Under the Rose (ONESHOT - Aoi/Uruha)
Title: Under the Rose
Author:
flaming_lava
Rating: NC-17
Chapter: Oneshot
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Romance, Smut, AU
Warnings: Heavy warnings on drug abuse and father-son abuse. A little smut, and dramatic irony. Character death.
Pairings: Aoi/Uruha
Sypnosis: "Another lie spun into truth."
Summary: In which Kouyou never knew Yuu's dark truth.
Disclaimer: I do not own these guys, only the plot.
*+*+*+*+*+*
He was quivering.
Left foot trembling, he couldn’t feel the rest of his thigh -- as if it wasn’t there. A splash of psychedelic stars, shimmering, glittering, gleaming back at him in malicious grins sparkled before his eyes, dazzling, enchanting with its ephemeral beauty. To him this was heaven, his place of solitude and salvation, until reality came crashing back down upon his weakened frame once again.
His back lay slumped against the cold wall of the toilet cubicle, the tiles icy cold as the murky water that trickled down from the pipes licked his greyed shirt; soaking slowly, mockingly, into the school jacket strewn across the dirty, wet floor. He coughed, and threw his head back against the wall. A small packet of cheery, neon blue candies sat by his shaking palm on the ground, shining back at him in gleeful grins and echoing joyous laughs at his pathetic, worn, cold form.
But in his head he felt comfortably warm, a brightly lit, blissful nowhere of which guffawing carousels and giggling clouds and winking supernovas laughed with (at) him.
He was happy, for now.
But deep down he knew, that one day, this source of absolute joy would handhold him to death’s willing door.
And then, all he saw was darkness.
*+*+*+*+*+*
A punch to the face.
“You’re a failure.”
A kick to the ribs.
“You don’t deserve any damn thing.”
Crack. Another bone broken. He flinched, dark, bloodshot eyes widening in anguish and pain.
“You’re just like your fucking bitch of a mother.”
He said nothing, biting on his bottom lip as he swallowed the pain like a bitter tea, and looked up at the man who was glowing with utmost hate and disgust.
“What a fucking whore. Fag.”
All because he caught his beloved son kissing his best friend in a small alley down the street three years ago.
Three. Fucking. Years. Ago.
And still the anger ceased to die.
*+*+*+*+*+*
Widened, shocked eyes scanned the sloppy bandages and harsh bruises which dotted the dark-haired man's slouching body, slender fingers reaching out to touch those scars, try to soothe the pain, only to recoil at the reason why it was there in the first place.
It’s because of me, isn’t it?
“He hit you again, didn't he?” Pained, guilty strands hung off the heavy tone.
Yuu shrugged. “Doesn't he always?”
“Yuu, you've got to report this to the police.”
“And what can they do?” He retorted.
“Get you out of this mess, for one.”
“What makes you so sure? You trust those bastards? They're just slightly better than criminals in my opinion,pretending to deliver justice when in actuality they're just twisting the truth to get their cash.”
A sigh. (A plead.) “Yuu... Please don't be like this.” I’m sorry.
“What do you expect me to do, Kouyou?”
“At least try to find a way out.” Let me help you.
“Why do you even give a fuck about my fucking life?” He spat, that unstable temper flaring up instantaneously. Blatant flames of fury danced in his pupils, cackling wickedly at Kouyou’s helpless state. Perhaps - just perhaps - there was a small spark of guilt crackling off those fierce fires, but the anger overwhelmed it tenfold.
“Why won’t you just answer the question?” Kouyou's voice shook.
“Why are you prying so much?”
“Why are you so defensive?” It got louder, firmer.
“Why do you even bother about what I fucking do?”
“Why won’t you let me help you?” A desperate plea.
“Why do you want to help me?” A spiteful question, a retort.
A pause.
Kouyou looked away almost shamefully.
“Because I care for you.”
A disbelieving breath parted from the plush lips of the raven-haired man, the rage immediately quenched.
“Kouyou...”
*+*+*+*+*+*
Kouyou has been Yuu’s best -- and only -- friend for the longest time.
“Ah -- Ah K-Kouyou...”
“F-Fuck, Yuu.”
Yuu’s fingers dug deeply into the pale, creamy skin along Kouyou’s arms as he thrust himself into the auburn-haired man, head thrown back as long, loud moans gurgled out of his throat, spilling themselves into the cold, heated air of the room as snow fell softly beyond the tinted windows of Kouyou’s room.
“Harder, Yuu, harder--”
They were such good friends, they fucked.
Yuu complied, aiming to hit that spot that every man had, to send tendrils of nerve-wrecking pleasure into Kouyou’s system. He wanted to hear the other scream, to hear his name fall gracefully off those lips, to feel those sharp nails pierce his hips in an attempt to hold on to consciousness, before pleasure slipped him away into nothingness.
And in short time he did.
Kouyou let out a strangled cry, his back arching beautifully off the bed, long, lithe arms curling around those broad shoulders and holding tight, holding on to the little bit that was still sane of him. Yuu pushed in again, and by Kouyou’s tightening of his grip he knew he hit the spot again.
Their motions quickened, frenzied; they were a mess. Yuu plummeted violently into the blonde, the escalating pleasure too much to hold back; Kouyou pushed himself against Yuu, his rhythm matching up with the other in a manner that almost seemed rehearsed.
There was then an ear-piercing cry from the younger, a shuddering gasp from the elder, before Yuu came inside Kouyou, and Kouyou spilled across their flushed skin and tangled sheets.
A moment of silence ensued, before Yuu reluctantly pulled out of the blond and lay beside him atop the dark russet sheets the latter adored.
“Yuu...”
“Hm?”
“Stay here tonight. Please.”
“Kou...” Those reddened sclera gazed back at those brown pupils, pleading, begging for understanding. “I can’t. I need to go back.”
“You don’t need to.” Please.
“I do.” Yuu meekly said, the truth of his utter need to go back buried deep in his heart, where no shovel can ever dig it out.
“No, you don’t.”
“Kou--”
“You don’t.” The voice was firm. And Yuu merely bit his lip, his mind lingering upon his cruel addiction. And somewhere within his consciousness, a flicker of guilty betrayal lived.
*+*+*+*+*+*
The clock flashed 2am.
And Yuu was already shaking.
He was shivering, his unusually meek self trembling like a tree in the storm. He was panting, gasping for every last bit of air; his lungs were gills to a fish out of water, desperate, hurried, choking-- he wanted to move, to thrash around in pain and withdrawal, but his body was as stiff as a statue, unmoving, the tension within ever escalating with no form of numbing.
He needed it, and he needed it now.
Amidst his hazed mind he found a pair of slim arms wrapping themselves around him protectively.
“Shh, Yuu. It’s just a nightmare. He’s not here.” Kouyou?
Yuu gasped, unseeing eyes flying open as cold sweat painted the back of his neck. He wanted to scream out in agony, to shriek This-is-not-a-nightmare-about-him-Kou and just to pour and spill out the real truth behind his misunderstood torture. Yet still he held back, swallowed his voice as he thrashed around in his mind, his physical form still, shivering, silent.
Fingers laced with his beneath the thick, warm blanket, tightening around his slack, deadened grip. His lips parted in ragged, dry breaths, panting, taking in every bit of Kouyou’s concern and good will, breathing out lies, lies and more lies, which morphed and transformed into a truth when it danced and sung into Kouyou’s ears.
“Yuu... I will get you out of this mess. I promise.”
Another lie spun into truth. A tear slipped out of Yuu’s eye.
*+*+*+*+*+*
“I can’t go home.”
“You can stay here.” Please stay.
“But--”
“I don’t give a shit about your father. You’re going to stay here.” I don’t want to see you hurt because of me.
Yuu’s eyes softened, while his muscles stiffened. “Okay.”
He donned on the spare jacket Kouyou had loaned him, and stepped out of the door with Kouyou for another ordinary day of school.
As if nothing happened.
As it has been so for the past three years.
*+*+*+*+*+*
A few days passed.
The wounds were healing.
But inside, Yuu was breaking apart, bit by bit, splurging more half-truths and un-truths with every concerned gaze towards the crimson spiderwebs which pasted over his dulled sclera, and even more with strange looks people threw at him when he yelled at a teacher for bumping into him, when he so close to have his fist connected with Akira’s face over a pile of fallen books. Every tantrum brought about more question, and every question brought about more woven tales of his fragmented imagination.
Yuu’s hands reached into his locker to pull out the final pack of those pills which had been a story too many to even the best of his friends.
A secret too many.
*+*+*+*+*+*
He stumbled past his front door, almost tripping over his own shoelaces.
His self was a wreck -- ripped shirt, muddied and wet jacket, stained pants and torn shoes with unkempt noir hair. He knew that he almost fell off the third storey; he knew he had danced his way down the street and crashed into far too many things; he knew that he was treading down the path of home, a place of pain, pain, and more pain, a place that was no better than Hell. But his face shone of a smile, full of laughter, full of sadness, a mix concoction of extreme emotions all thrown into the same pot.
He did not see his father watching him quietly, abhorrence spicy and jolting on the tip of his tongue, from the other room.
He did not see the knife which was enclosed in his father’s palm.
He did not see the snickering malice which hung off his father’s inhumane grin.
Neither did he notice a pair of frightened, hazel eyes following him from the gate outside.
He began to climb the stairs, a step at a time, each step a wobble, a flash of spinning stars around his head, as he slowly continued up the staircase. At the fifth step, he shook, and took one more unsteady step. A sharp pain went through his abdomen suddenly, piercing his side, and he let out a strangled cry. All balance was lost, and he tumbled down the stairs.
“So, now, where have you been for the past week?” A deep growl sounded. Yuu opened his dizzied eyes, only to face the one he loathed so.
“None of your fucking business, bastard.” He slurred, his crazed smile immediately knocked off his face to be replaced by a malevolent scowl.
A dark shadow was cast over the wrinkled countenance instantaneously, eyes flashed red and a twisted howl erupted from the man.
“Oh it is my business, when it comes to my faggot son getting his butt fucked by some pretty boy!” He sneered, and aimed a powerful kick at Yuu’s weak stomach.
Blood splattered out of Yuu’s mouth at the immense, unexpected impact. He laughed.
“Fuck off, dipshit.”
The older man’s eyes flashed a menacing vermillion, and another kick swung past Yuu’s cheek. More blood flew up the youth’s throat in a rough cough.
“I’ve had it of you!” He hollered. “Go to hell!”
“Why not you?” Yuu spat.
A violent, forceful kick to Yuu’s wounded ribs. “Shut your mouth, asshole!”
“Fuck, that hurts.”
“I told you to shut the fuck up!”
A short distance away, a pair of chocolate irises flared in a determined gaze, resolve set.
Yuu opened his mouth to answer, to bite on his father’s words and stroke the flame that was burning all around him; but the blade was already swinging downwards, the sharpened end flying towards him, steel glistering triumphantly at him, chortling at his untimely defeat. He closed his eyes.
“STOP!”
A lean figure was above him in a moment, in a split second his eyelids flew open. The moment was frozen in a fragment of still time, the secondhand’s ticking paused, the world turning to black in a slowed space of the in-between second. All there was in that span of nothingness was the blade, Yuu, and him. Yuu could only watch that beautiful, sorrowful, twisted face flash past his eyes, that slim body fly and hover above his body, as the knife hung threateningly in the air on a thin thread that was about to break.
Their eyes met, and time started again.
The thread had snapped, and down went the knife.
For all the pain that you’ve gone through for years, I hope that this is enough to repay for what I’ve forced you into enduring, Yuu. I’m sorry, and I’m sorry that I fell in love with you three years ago. I still love you, Yuu. Please forgive me.
And then Yuu saw red.
*+*+*+*+*+*
The sky was a downcast grey, its countenance a gloomy frown, tears falling heavily upon the earth in heavy rains and thunder sobbing as lighting flashed grief and melancholy.
Yuu knelt before the cold gravestone, his fingers reaching out to sweep past the carved epitaph he had written between the moon and midnight chimes of the clock, amidst nightmares and cries and slashes across his heart.
The rain fell upon his head, shoulders, back, legs, seeping into the black trench coat he sported, soaking into his skin and muscles and bones, the cold wind freezing him to the core. Rainwater mixed with fallen tears as they streaked in tributaries across the stiff cheeks of the man, the low growls of afterthunders drowning out the sobs which escaped his mouth whilst his heavy heart mourned and grieved.
He lay a fresh rose upon the tomb, his head bowed.
“You weren’t supposed to die.” He whispered.
There was no longer the abusive father, (he was sentenced to capital punishment) no longer the hits, the kicks, the yells, the insults of asshole and fag. All that was left was Yuu, and Yuu himself, alone.
But “alone” was just too much to bear, too much for his vanishing conscience to stand. His existence was fading away slowly, with no reason to live for anyone as there was just no one; each day he saw the sun’s light dimming, the heat diminishing. The colours in the world were slowly disappearing, the blue, green, yellow all merging into a dead, grey tombstone shade, the exception being the red, red, red that was ever becoming brighter with hate and fury. But soon he knew that it would turn into nothingness once all the emotion wither and rot, the red will soon turn into grey, and then the rainbow would become a dirty, chilling black.
What’s the point of living, when everything would just disappear later? -- he wondered .
Perhaps -- just perhaps -- Yuu heard it. Maybe it was just an echo off a mirror of a forever memory, but in Yuu’s mind, it still rang, softly, vaguely.
No.
Yuu sighed.
Please, Yuu, don’t.
“I can’t go on living in black and white, Kou.” He pulled out a small packet from his pocket. In there was a single, large, orange pill.
“Solitude is too much for one who needs.” He whispered, picking up the orange candy daintily. “I don’t want you to be alone, Kou.”
Slowly, the orange pill licks his tongue, and disappears underneath it.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
Yuu closed his eyes.
No, Yuu, don’t --
But Yuu had already drowned in the stars which shone brighter than ever, hear the mirthful laughter like he has never heard before, dance in a mad, ecstatic waltz he had never learnt before, taste impending doom more crisp than ever on his tongue, and feel the warmth, the cold, the feeling of nothingness and being so full all at once, he could burst and shrivel at the same time with all the overwhelming sensations pulsing through his body. Sparkles were whirling around him, no, he was spinning around the universe with them, laughing, crying, screaming --
It’s about time I told you the truth, Kou.
*+*+*+*+*+*
Sooooo how is it? 8D This is my first attempt at writing drug use and abuse! :DD
BTW italics are all Kouyou's words except the last line. Not sure if I got the message across, but y'know, this whole story is written in past tense, where Kou is already dead... so naturally, all the italics are Kouyou's "unspoken words" or whatever you want to call it. With Yuu's last line being in italics... Well, I guess its up to you to figure out what it means. :DD It's up to your interpretation.SO YEAH! I hope you've enjoyed this story! Please drop a little comment to let me know how you feel about this so that I can improve on my writing in the future!!
Author:
flaming_lava
Rating: NC-17
Chapter: Oneshot
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Romance, Smut, AU
Warnings: Heavy warnings on drug abuse and father-son abuse. A little smut, and dramatic irony. Character death.
Pairings: Aoi/Uruha
Sypnosis: "Another lie spun into truth."
Summary: In which Kouyou never knew Yuu's dark truth.
Disclaimer: I do not own these guys, only the plot.
*+*+*+*+*+*
He was quivering.
Left foot trembling, he couldn’t feel the rest of his thigh -- as if it wasn’t there. A splash of psychedelic stars, shimmering, glittering, gleaming back at him in malicious grins sparkled before his eyes, dazzling, enchanting with its ephemeral beauty. To him this was heaven, his place of solitude and salvation, until reality came crashing back down upon his weakened frame once again.
His back lay slumped against the cold wall of the toilet cubicle, the tiles icy cold as the murky water that trickled down from the pipes licked his greyed shirt; soaking slowly, mockingly, into the school jacket strewn across the dirty, wet floor. He coughed, and threw his head back against the wall. A small packet of cheery, neon blue candies sat by his shaking palm on the ground, shining back at him in gleeful grins and echoing joyous laughs at his pathetic, worn, cold form.
But in his head he felt comfortably warm, a brightly lit, blissful nowhere of which guffawing carousels and giggling clouds and winking supernovas laughed with (at) him.
He was happy, for now.
But deep down he knew, that one day, this source of absolute joy would handhold him to death’s willing door.
And then, all he saw was darkness.
*+*+*+*+*+*
A punch to the face.
“You’re a failure.”
A kick to the ribs.
“You don’t deserve any damn thing.”
Crack. Another bone broken. He flinched, dark, bloodshot eyes widening in anguish and pain.
“You’re just like your fucking bitch of a mother.”
He said nothing, biting on his bottom lip as he swallowed the pain like a bitter tea, and looked up at the man who was glowing with utmost hate and disgust.
“What a fucking whore. Fag.”
All because he caught his beloved son kissing his best friend in a small alley down the street three years ago.
Three. Fucking. Years. Ago.
And still the anger ceased to die.
*+*+*+*+*+*
Widened, shocked eyes scanned the sloppy bandages and harsh bruises which dotted the dark-haired man's slouching body, slender fingers reaching out to touch those scars, try to soothe the pain, only to recoil at the reason why it was there in the first place.
It’s because of me, isn’t it?
“He hit you again, didn't he?” Pained, guilty strands hung off the heavy tone.
Yuu shrugged. “Doesn't he always?”
“Yuu, you've got to report this to the police.”
“And what can they do?” He retorted.
“Get you out of this mess, for one.”
“What makes you so sure? You trust those bastards? They're just slightly better than criminals in my opinion,pretending to deliver justice when in actuality they're just twisting the truth to get their cash.”
A sigh. (A plead.) “Yuu... Please don't be like this.” I’m sorry.
“What do you expect me to do, Kouyou?”
“At least try to find a way out.” Let me help you.
“Why do you even give a fuck about my fucking life?” He spat, that unstable temper flaring up instantaneously. Blatant flames of fury danced in his pupils, cackling wickedly at Kouyou’s helpless state. Perhaps - just perhaps - there was a small spark of guilt crackling off those fierce fires, but the anger overwhelmed it tenfold.
“Why won’t you just answer the question?” Kouyou's voice shook.
“Why are you prying so much?”
“Why are you so defensive?” It got louder, firmer.
“Why do you even bother about what I fucking do?”
“Why won’t you let me help you?” A desperate plea.
“Why do you want to help me?” A spiteful question, a retort.
A pause.
Kouyou looked away almost shamefully.
“Because I care for you.”
A disbelieving breath parted from the plush lips of the raven-haired man, the rage immediately quenched.
“Kouyou...”
*+*+*+*+*+*
Kouyou has been Yuu’s best -- and only -- friend for the longest time.
“Ah -- Ah K-Kouyou...”
“F-Fuck, Yuu.”
Yuu’s fingers dug deeply into the pale, creamy skin along Kouyou’s arms as he thrust himself into the auburn-haired man, head thrown back as long, loud moans gurgled out of his throat, spilling themselves into the cold, heated air of the room as snow fell softly beyond the tinted windows of Kouyou’s room.
“Harder, Yuu, harder--”
They were such good friends, they fucked.
Yuu complied, aiming to hit that spot that every man had, to send tendrils of nerve-wrecking pleasure into Kouyou’s system. He wanted to hear the other scream, to hear his name fall gracefully off those lips, to feel those sharp nails pierce his hips in an attempt to hold on to consciousness, before pleasure slipped him away into nothingness.
And in short time he did.
Kouyou let out a strangled cry, his back arching beautifully off the bed, long, lithe arms curling around those broad shoulders and holding tight, holding on to the little bit that was still sane of him. Yuu pushed in again, and by Kouyou’s tightening of his grip he knew he hit the spot again.
Their motions quickened, frenzied; they were a mess. Yuu plummeted violently into the blonde, the escalating pleasure too much to hold back; Kouyou pushed himself against Yuu, his rhythm matching up with the other in a manner that almost seemed rehearsed.
There was then an ear-piercing cry from the younger, a shuddering gasp from the elder, before Yuu came inside Kouyou, and Kouyou spilled across their flushed skin and tangled sheets.
A moment of silence ensued, before Yuu reluctantly pulled out of the blond and lay beside him atop the dark russet sheets the latter adored.
“Yuu...”
“Hm?”
“Stay here tonight. Please.”
“Kou...” Those reddened sclera gazed back at those brown pupils, pleading, begging for understanding. “I can’t. I need to go back.”
“You don’t need to.” Please.
“I do.” Yuu meekly said, the truth of his utter need to go back buried deep in his heart, where no shovel can ever dig it out.
“No, you don’t.”
“Kou--”
“You don’t.” The voice was firm. And Yuu merely bit his lip, his mind lingering upon his cruel addiction. And somewhere within his consciousness, a flicker of guilty betrayal lived.
*+*+*+*+*+*
The clock flashed 2am.
And Yuu was already shaking.
He was shivering, his unusually meek self trembling like a tree in the storm. He was panting, gasping for every last bit of air; his lungs were gills to a fish out of water, desperate, hurried, choking-- he wanted to move, to thrash around in pain and withdrawal, but his body was as stiff as a statue, unmoving, the tension within ever escalating with no form of numbing.
He needed it, and he needed it now.
Amidst his hazed mind he found a pair of slim arms wrapping themselves around him protectively.
“Shh, Yuu. It’s just a nightmare. He’s not here.” Kouyou?
Yuu gasped, unseeing eyes flying open as cold sweat painted the back of his neck. He wanted to scream out in agony, to shriek This-is-not-a-nightmare-about-him-Kou and just to pour and spill out the real truth behind his misunderstood torture. Yet still he held back, swallowed his voice as he thrashed around in his mind, his physical form still, shivering, silent.
Fingers laced with his beneath the thick, warm blanket, tightening around his slack, deadened grip. His lips parted in ragged, dry breaths, panting, taking in every bit of Kouyou’s concern and good will, breathing out lies, lies and more lies, which morphed and transformed into a truth when it danced and sung into Kouyou’s ears.
“Yuu... I will get you out of this mess. I promise.”
Another lie spun into truth. A tear slipped out of Yuu’s eye.
*+*+*+*+*+*
“I can’t go home.”
“You can stay here.” Please stay.
“But--”
“I don’t give a shit about your father. You’re going to stay here.” I don’t want to see you hurt because of me.
Yuu’s eyes softened, while his muscles stiffened. “Okay.”
He donned on the spare jacket Kouyou had loaned him, and stepped out of the door with Kouyou for another ordinary day of school.
As if nothing happened.
As it has been so for the past three years.
*+*+*+*+*+*
A few days passed.
The wounds were healing.
But inside, Yuu was breaking apart, bit by bit, splurging more half-truths and un-truths with every concerned gaze towards the crimson spiderwebs which pasted over his dulled sclera, and even more with strange looks people threw at him when he yelled at a teacher for bumping into him, when he so close to have his fist connected with Akira’s face over a pile of fallen books. Every tantrum brought about more question, and every question brought about more woven tales of his fragmented imagination.
Yuu’s hands reached into his locker to pull out the final pack of those pills which had been a story too many to even the best of his friends.
A secret too many.
*+*+*+*+*+*
He stumbled past his front door, almost tripping over his own shoelaces.
His self was a wreck -- ripped shirt, muddied and wet jacket, stained pants and torn shoes with unkempt noir hair. He knew that he almost fell off the third storey; he knew he had danced his way down the street and crashed into far too many things; he knew that he was treading down the path of home, a place of pain, pain, and more pain, a place that was no better than Hell. But his face shone of a smile, full of laughter, full of sadness, a mix concoction of extreme emotions all thrown into the same pot.
He did not see his father watching him quietly, abhorrence spicy and jolting on the tip of his tongue, from the other room.
He did not see the knife which was enclosed in his father’s palm.
He did not see the snickering malice which hung off his father’s inhumane grin.
Neither did he notice a pair of frightened, hazel eyes following him from the gate outside.
He began to climb the stairs, a step at a time, each step a wobble, a flash of spinning stars around his head, as he slowly continued up the staircase. At the fifth step, he shook, and took one more unsteady step. A sharp pain went through his abdomen suddenly, piercing his side, and he let out a strangled cry. All balance was lost, and he tumbled down the stairs.
“So, now, where have you been for the past week?” A deep growl sounded. Yuu opened his dizzied eyes, only to face the one he loathed so.
“None of your fucking business, bastard.” He slurred, his crazed smile immediately knocked off his face to be replaced by a malevolent scowl.
A dark shadow was cast over the wrinkled countenance instantaneously, eyes flashed red and a twisted howl erupted from the man.
“Oh it is my business, when it comes to my faggot son getting his butt fucked by some pretty boy!” He sneered, and aimed a powerful kick at Yuu’s weak stomach.
Blood splattered out of Yuu’s mouth at the immense, unexpected impact. He laughed.
“Fuck off, dipshit.”
The older man’s eyes flashed a menacing vermillion, and another kick swung past Yuu’s cheek. More blood flew up the youth’s throat in a rough cough.
“I’ve had it of you!” He hollered. “Go to hell!”
“Why not you?” Yuu spat.
A violent, forceful kick to Yuu’s wounded ribs. “Shut your mouth, asshole!”
“Fuck, that hurts.”
“I told you to shut the fuck up!”
A short distance away, a pair of chocolate irises flared in a determined gaze, resolve set.
Yuu opened his mouth to answer, to bite on his father’s words and stroke the flame that was burning all around him; but the blade was already swinging downwards, the sharpened end flying towards him, steel glistering triumphantly at him, chortling at his untimely defeat. He closed his eyes.
“STOP!”
A lean figure was above him in a moment, in a split second his eyelids flew open. The moment was frozen in a fragment of still time, the secondhand’s ticking paused, the world turning to black in a slowed space of the in-between second. All there was in that span of nothingness was the blade, Yuu, and him. Yuu could only watch that beautiful, sorrowful, twisted face flash past his eyes, that slim body fly and hover above his body, as the knife hung threateningly in the air on a thin thread that was about to break.
Their eyes met, and time started again.
The thread had snapped, and down went the knife.
For all the pain that you’ve gone through for years, I hope that this is enough to repay for what I’ve forced you into enduring, Yuu. I’m sorry, and I’m sorry that I fell in love with you three years ago. I still love you, Yuu. Please forgive me.
And then Yuu saw red.
*+*+*+*+*+*
The sky was a downcast grey, its countenance a gloomy frown, tears falling heavily upon the earth in heavy rains and thunder sobbing as lighting flashed grief and melancholy.
Yuu knelt before the cold gravestone, his fingers reaching out to sweep past the carved epitaph he had written between the moon and midnight chimes of the clock, amidst nightmares and cries and slashes across his heart.
The rain fell upon his head, shoulders, back, legs, seeping into the black trench coat he sported, soaking into his skin and muscles and bones, the cold wind freezing him to the core. Rainwater mixed with fallen tears as they streaked in tributaries across the stiff cheeks of the man, the low growls of afterthunders drowning out the sobs which escaped his mouth whilst his heavy heart mourned and grieved.
He lay a fresh rose upon the tomb, his head bowed.
“You weren’t supposed to die.” He whispered.
There was no longer the abusive father, (he was sentenced to capital punishment) no longer the hits, the kicks, the yells, the insults of asshole and fag. All that was left was Yuu, and Yuu himself, alone.
But “alone” was just too much to bear, too much for his vanishing conscience to stand. His existence was fading away slowly, with no reason to live for anyone as there was just no one; each day he saw the sun’s light dimming, the heat diminishing. The colours in the world were slowly disappearing, the blue, green, yellow all merging into a dead, grey tombstone shade, the exception being the red, red, red that was ever becoming brighter with hate and fury. But soon he knew that it would turn into nothingness once all the emotion wither and rot, the red will soon turn into grey, and then the rainbow would become a dirty, chilling black.
What’s the point of living, when everything would just disappear later? -- he wondered .
Perhaps -- just perhaps -- Yuu heard it. Maybe it was just an echo off a mirror of a forever memory, but in Yuu’s mind, it still rang, softly, vaguely.
No.
Yuu sighed.
Please, Yuu, don’t.
“I can’t go on living in black and white, Kou.” He pulled out a small packet from his pocket. In there was a single, large, orange pill.
“Solitude is too much for one who needs.” He whispered, picking up the orange candy daintily. “I don’t want you to be alone, Kou.”
Slowly, the orange pill licks his tongue, and disappears underneath it.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
Yuu closed his eyes.
No, Yuu, don’t --
But Yuu had already drowned in the stars which shone brighter than ever, hear the mirthful laughter like he has never heard before, dance in a mad, ecstatic waltz he had never learnt before, taste impending doom more crisp than ever on his tongue, and feel the warmth, the cold, the feeling of nothingness and being so full all at once, he could burst and shrivel at the same time with all the overwhelming sensations pulsing through his body. Sparkles were whirling around him, no, he was spinning around the universe with them, laughing, crying, screaming --
It’s about time I told you the truth, Kou.
*+*+*+*+*+*
Sooooo how is it? 8D This is my first attempt at writing drug use and abuse! :DD
BTW italics are all Kouyou's words except the last line. Not sure if I got the message across, but y'know, this whole story is written in past tense, where Kou is already dead... so naturally, all the italics are Kouyou's "unspoken words" or whatever you want to call it. With Yuu's last line being in italics... Well, I guess its up to you to figure out what it means. :DD It's up to your interpretation.SO YEAH! I hope you've enjoyed this story! Please drop a little comment to let me know how you feel about this so that I can improve on my writing in the future!!