Fic: Strawberry Snack Cake
Title: Strawberry Snack Cake
Fandom: Angel Beats!
Rating: T for language
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Frienship
Pairings/Characters: Hinata/Otonashi pre-slash, though really this is just gen.
Disclaimer: I don't own Angel Beats!.
Summary: Sometimes it's the most innocent of things that can trigger a person and send them spiraling into sorrow. In this case, what triggers Otonashi is spongy, costs little, and tastes sweet.
A/N: Oh my God. I finally did it. I finally wrote some honest hurt/comfort and at last my writing has taken its nose dive off of Mount Pretentious. I'm so proud I think I could cry. Also, this was written after I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare about my mother dying. So yeah. you can see where this is going.
Hope you enjoy anyway. This fandom needs way more fic than it has. <3
~~
For those condemned to this world, the collapse usually comes after they regain their memories.
Because what else is there to do, after walking around in a daze for days or months or even years and then, suddenly, seeing people you somehow know are your parents burning your arms with a cigarretes and screaming at you for ruining their lives? Or someone sneaking a hand on a part of your body they shouldn't have and leaving you to die a little later? Or something, anything, whatever horrible thing that happened to you that made your soul come to this world as a... punishment? Reward?
Most who come here don't figure that last thing out until it's too late, but during the collapse it hardly matters, because the most important thing right then is, depending on who you are, either sobbing or hating yourself for sobbing. For most. It's five minutes. An hour. A day, at the longest, before they break. It comes when everything's still fresh and the danger of forgetting all over again (which is more possible than anyone knows) is the furthest thing from your mind. That is, if you're most people.
So Otonashi must not be most people, then.
Oh, the breakdown happens. It happens harder than he ever thought it could be, but it's just short of two weeks after a vision of the little sister he killed trying to make happy came to him for the first time (or rather, came back). There had been pain, sure, when he first remembered. It was enough to make him want to scream how unfair it was into the heavens, but not this. Nothing like this.
He could feel it coming too, starting out as a dull ache in his middle a few minutes ago after the last SSS meeting of the day, as he took a bite of a strawberry snack cake from a vending machine. It hadn't meant anything up until he tasted it, but then it did, because there, right in front of him, was a little, redheaded girl who wasn't laid up in a hospital bed just yet gulping down half of one and offering him the rest.
Something inside tells him to push the thoughts aside, that wallowing in misery would only make the others annoyed, that the cake will only make him sick if he tries to force himself to eat it, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he swallows it like a normal person (or someone desperately faking it) and his legs start moving, carrying him away from the dorms. The plastic-wrapped cake stays clutched firmly in his hand, just on the edge of being crushed.
Two minutes of walking later, he stops and looks behind him, blinking at the setting sun and the shadowed outlines of campus buildings like he hadn't just been in control of his actions the whole journey, like he doesn't know why he's here, on some random bridge far away from everyone.
He does know, though. It's not at the forefront of his mind (planning out how he's going to let himself go feels wrong), but on some level of conciousness he's well aware of what this is, so he finds a nearby bench, sits, and thinks.
From then on, it doesn't take him long. Soon, he can nearly feel the weight of his sister's hand in his instead of the treat, can see her giggling about a teen magazine with the latest boy band on the cover displayed in a shop window, can see her still body lying at rest right before they slid her into a fire, can see just a split second of her pale skin turning to ash. The doctor himself paid for a nice little urn, Otonashi remembers, and they, plus a couple of nurses, drove out to the sea and let her fly away there.
And then, as those last visions assault him and he tries his hardest not to crush the cake in his grip, he finally feels it. That awful, horrible feeling of longing, of wanting to talk to somebody who doesn't exist anymore, who will never talk or smile or get excited at a new issue of their favorite magazine ever again. For the first time in this life, Otonashi truly misses his sister, and wishes, with all his being, that he could just share one more strawberry snack cake with her. She liked those more than he did. She liked everything more than he did, and she was the one who had it hard.
And he never got to help her, or even make her proud. She's not here, and deep inside, Otonashi knows she never will be.
He doesn't drop the cake, just sets it gently beside him. It shouldn't have to suffer like he does. No one, nothing should suffer like he does or his sister did, except maybe the God who condemned them all to a horrible life and then sent them here.
That's what Yurippe thinks, at least. But really, not even then.
He goes even furthur than simply ignoring the concerned, all too familiar voice (who is he kidding, he knows exactly who it is) calling his name in the distance, telling himself that there's no one there at all as he coughs out sob after sob into his sweaty right hand. Not even when he hears slow, measured footsteps very clearly does he look up, which is a mistake because suddenly he has another vision, one that he knows is just imagination, of a big brother piggybacking his little sister to a carnival or a movie or a Christmas tree display. Only this time, she's grasping his shoulders in excitement as she looks around, alert and alive, with decades of happiness ahead of her instead of an hour.
"Otonashi? Jesus, man..."
Otonashi tries scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve when Hinata sits on the bench, but that only makes them irritated all over again. And holding his breath to quiet his crying only makes him feel like he's drowning.
To top if off, Hinata is completely still beside him like he just came here to watch, and for some reason it makes Otonashi feel weak and emotionally naked, which does not help at all. Willing Hinata to go away makes him feel even worse, so for the whole period of silence between them Otonashi finds himself wanting to disappear. Obliterate himself, as they all call it. Anything, anything to escape what he feels now, damn cowardice and damn the consequences.
While time drags on and his attemps to stop crying completely fail over and over, some stupid part of Otonashi manages to convince him that Hinata will keep his hands to himself, but that's bullshit, almost ridiculous enough to make him start laughing through his tears.
And to tell the truth, it isn't all that unwelcome when he feels the other's arm curl around his back, anchoring him to whatever reality this is, warming him up against the chilled evening air (jeez, he hasn't even been aware of his own shivering until now, he's so far gone).
"It's alright." Hinata's curls his fingers around Otonashi's own hand and draws it away from his puffy, reddened eyes, and when Otonashi opens them at last, the look on Hinata's face makes him want to punch him because how dare he. How dare he smile. How dare he look so calm and patient through this. That's Otonashi's job, he decides right then. It's his duty to comfort and help everyone else like he had helped Naoi, like he hadn't helped his sister. Not the other way around. Not when he'd never been touched like this in his previous life, save for his sister's doctor putting a hand on his back at the funeral or one of the nurses gently clasping his hand as they took the little girl who'd meant the world to him away with her face covered by a blanket.
Another sob claws at his throat (out of frustration, anger, other emotions that just hold people back and get nothing done), and he has no choice but to let it go. And he must let the rest of him go at the same time, too, since he catches himself actually reaching for Hinata in the next second. Like the child he never got to be.
Grimacing, he tries to pull back, but by then it's already too late.
"Oh, no you don't," says Hinata. "C'mere." He embraces Otonashi like it's the easiest thing in the world, pressing his friend's head to his shoulder, running his hand over his friend's hair and neck and back, making everything better and worse all at once.
"It's okay, man. I know." In a fit of immaturity, Otonashi wants to call him out on that, but he knows it's true. If he didn't know, he wouldn't be here.
It's a disgusting, selfish thing to think, but Otonashi's glad Hinata's here. And him leaving anytime soon is a scary idea, somehow, so he shows as much by clutching at the other's shirt and holding on as he breaks down.
Some time later, like all things, his tears eventually stop and so does his shuddering, thank God, but when he tries to move away (suddenly remembering what dignity is), Hinata pulls him closer still.
"Relax, dude. Take it easy. What's the hurry?" he chuckles. "Just relax for a bit. Nobody misses us just yet."
In spite of everything, the command is too easy to follow.
Beside them, the strawberry snack cake sits forgotten, at least until Otonashi is ready to face the netherworld again. With one last fond thought of someone very far gone, he picks it up right before going back to the dorms, smiling to himself as he eats half and offers Hinata the rest.
Fandom: Angel Beats!
Rating: T for language
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Frienship
Pairings/Characters: Hinata/Otonashi pre-slash, though really this is just gen.
Disclaimer: I don't own Angel Beats!.
Summary: Sometimes it's the most innocent of things that can trigger a person and send them spiraling into sorrow. In this case, what triggers Otonashi is spongy, costs little, and tastes sweet.
A/N: Oh my God. I finally did it. I finally wrote some honest hurt/comfort and at last my writing has taken its nose dive off of Mount Pretentious. I'm so proud I think I could cry. Also, this was written after I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare about my mother dying. So yeah. you can see where this is going.
Hope you enjoy anyway. This fandom needs way more fic than it has. <3
~~
For those condemned to this world, the collapse usually comes after they regain their memories.
Because what else is there to do, after walking around in a daze for days or months or even years and then, suddenly, seeing people you somehow know are your parents burning your arms with a cigarretes and screaming at you for ruining their lives? Or someone sneaking a hand on a part of your body they shouldn't have and leaving you to die a little later? Or something, anything, whatever horrible thing that happened to you that made your soul come to this world as a... punishment? Reward?
Most who come here don't figure that last thing out until it's too late, but during the collapse it hardly matters, because the most important thing right then is, depending on who you are, either sobbing or hating yourself for sobbing. For most. It's five minutes. An hour. A day, at the longest, before they break. It comes when everything's still fresh and the danger of forgetting all over again (which is more possible than anyone knows) is the furthest thing from your mind. That is, if you're most people.
So Otonashi must not be most people, then.
Oh, the breakdown happens. It happens harder than he ever thought it could be, but it's just short of two weeks after a vision of the little sister he killed trying to make happy came to him for the first time (or rather, came back). There had been pain, sure, when he first remembered. It was enough to make him want to scream how unfair it was into the heavens, but not this. Nothing like this.
He could feel it coming too, starting out as a dull ache in his middle a few minutes ago after the last SSS meeting of the day, as he took a bite of a strawberry snack cake from a vending machine. It hadn't meant anything up until he tasted it, but then it did, because there, right in front of him, was a little, redheaded girl who wasn't laid up in a hospital bed just yet gulping down half of one and offering him the rest.
Something inside tells him to push the thoughts aside, that wallowing in misery would only make the others annoyed, that the cake will only make him sick if he tries to force himself to eat it, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he swallows it like a normal person (or someone desperately faking it) and his legs start moving, carrying him away from the dorms. The plastic-wrapped cake stays clutched firmly in his hand, just on the edge of being crushed.
Two minutes of walking later, he stops and looks behind him, blinking at the setting sun and the shadowed outlines of campus buildings like he hadn't just been in control of his actions the whole journey, like he doesn't know why he's here, on some random bridge far away from everyone.
He does know, though. It's not at the forefront of his mind (planning out how he's going to let himself go feels wrong), but on some level of conciousness he's well aware of what this is, so he finds a nearby bench, sits, and thinks.
From then on, it doesn't take him long. Soon, he can nearly feel the weight of his sister's hand in his instead of the treat, can see her giggling about a teen magazine with the latest boy band on the cover displayed in a shop window, can see her still body lying at rest right before they slid her into a fire, can see just a split second of her pale skin turning to ash. The doctor himself paid for a nice little urn, Otonashi remembers, and they, plus a couple of nurses, drove out to the sea and let her fly away there.
And then, as those last visions assault him and he tries his hardest not to crush the cake in his grip, he finally feels it. That awful, horrible feeling of longing, of wanting to talk to somebody who doesn't exist anymore, who will never talk or smile or get excited at a new issue of their favorite magazine ever again. For the first time in this life, Otonashi truly misses his sister, and wishes, with all his being, that he could just share one more strawberry snack cake with her. She liked those more than he did. She liked everything more than he did, and she was the one who had it hard.
And he never got to help her, or even make her proud. She's not here, and deep inside, Otonashi knows she never will be.
He doesn't drop the cake, just sets it gently beside him. It shouldn't have to suffer like he does. No one, nothing should suffer like he does or his sister did, except maybe the God who condemned them all to a horrible life and then sent them here.
That's what Yurippe thinks, at least. But really, not even then.
He goes even furthur than simply ignoring the concerned, all too familiar voice (who is he kidding, he knows exactly who it is) calling his name in the distance, telling himself that there's no one there at all as he coughs out sob after sob into his sweaty right hand. Not even when he hears slow, measured footsteps very clearly does he look up, which is a mistake because suddenly he has another vision, one that he knows is just imagination, of a big brother piggybacking his little sister to a carnival or a movie or a Christmas tree display. Only this time, she's grasping his shoulders in excitement as she looks around, alert and alive, with decades of happiness ahead of her instead of an hour.
"Otonashi? Jesus, man..."
Otonashi tries scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve when Hinata sits on the bench, but that only makes them irritated all over again. And holding his breath to quiet his crying only makes him feel like he's drowning.
To top if off, Hinata is completely still beside him like he just came here to watch, and for some reason it makes Otonashi feel weak and emotionally naked, which does not help at all. Willing Hinata to go away makes him feel even worse, so for the whole period of silence between them Otonashi finds himself wanting to disappear. Obliterate himself, as they all call it. Anything, anything to escape what he feels now, damn cowardice and damn the consequences.
While time drags on and his attemps to stop crying completely fail over and over, some stupid part of Otonashi manages to convince him that Hinata will keep his hands to himself, but that's bullshit, almost ridiculous enough to make him start laughing through his tears.
And to tell the truth, it isn't all that unwelcome when he feels the other's arm curl around his back, anchoring him to whatever reality this is, warming him up against the chilled evening air (jeez, he hasn't even been aware of his own shivering until now, he's so far gone).
"It's alright." Hinata's curls his fingers around Otonashi's own hand and draws it away from his puffy, reddened eyes, and when Otonashi opens them at last, the look on Hinata's face makes him want to punch him because how dare he. How dare he smile. How dare he look so calm and patient through this. That's Otonashi's job, he decides right then. It's his duty to comfort and help everyone else like he had helped Naoi, like he hadn't helped his sister. Not the other way around. Not when he'd never been touched like this in his previous life, save for his sister's doctor putting a hand on his back at the funeral or one of the nurses gently clasping his hand as they took the little girl who'd meant the world to him away with her face covered by a blanket.
Another sob claws at his throat (out of frustration, anger, other emotions that just hold people back and get nothing done), and he has no choice but to let it go. And he must let the rest of him go at the same time, too, since he catches himself actually reaching for Hinata in the next second. Like the child he never got to be.
Grimacing, he tries to pull back, but by then it's already too late.
"Oh, no you don't," says Hinata. "C'mere." He embraces Otonashi like it's the easiest thing in the world, pressing his friend's head to his shoulder, running his hand over his friend's hair and neck and back, making everything better and worse all at once.
"It's okay, man. I know." In a fit of immaturity, Otonashi wants to call him out on that, but he knows it's true. If he didn't know, he wouldn't be here.
It's a disgusting, selfish thing to think, but Otonashi's glad Hinata's here. And him leaving anytime soon is a scary idea, somehow, so he shows as much by clutching at the other's shirt and holding on as he breaks down.
Some time later, like all things, his tears eventually stop and so does his shuddering, thank God, but when he tries to move away (suddenly remembering what dignity is), Hinata pulls him closer still.
"Relax, dude. Take it easy. What's the hurry?" he chuckles. "Just relax for a bit. Nobody misses us just yet."
In spite of everything, the command is too easy to follow.
Beside them, the strawberry snack cake sits forgotten, at least until Otonashi is ready to face the netherworld again. With one last fond thought of someone very far gone, he picks it up right before going back to the dorms, smiling to himself as he eats half and offers Hinata the rest.