HAPPY B-DAY YAMIKAKYUU! (slightly late)
I took a bath today, for the first time in a long time. It was fun. I played with ducks. We have some that light up when they're put in water.
Sorry it's late. And somewhat short.
Aquarius
The cheap plastic cup of his expensive coffee shook in Dino’s hands. He should have known better than to buy it, he should have known it would make him even more jittery. He should have bought something calming, like tea. But Italian tea was never as good as Japanese tea; it didn’t have the right aroma, the right texture, the taste and sensation he had come to love, though he had found it terribly sharp and bitter at first.
To pass the time he leaned back against the soft dark walls and watched the fish swimming behind the glass. He would hate to be a fish, even though it seemed so peaceful. Much more peaceful than the life of a mafia boss, anyway, especially now in the middle of underground wars and bloody revolutions. If he could have, he might just willingly trade with the tropical fish suspended in endless blue water, like floating in the sky. Have a nice life just puttering around, blowing bubbles, eating…
He yawned, and took a sip of coffee.
The Vongola messenger was three hours late. He had been told it would be instantly obvious who was here to meet him, but Dino had to admit to himself that he wasn’t expecting anyone to come. Since the attack on the base two weeks ago no further communication could be established. It was more of a conditioned response that brought him here-keep your appointments. He suspected, though, that whoever he was waiting for was already dead.
He didn’t want to think about it. He concentrated instead on vaulted tanks rising like cathedral stained glass high above him. It never failed to amaze him how many different kinds of fish there were, the colors and shapes and sizes. Fish streaked with brilliant streams of vermillion like lines of blood or paint, fish dappled with the pattern of shadow on the water and filtered sunlight. But none, he noticed, of that peculiar, delicate pink-tinged white, gunmetal grey and midnight rain.
Look, Kyouya, he had said. Can you see all the fish?
Kyouya stared impassively at them. Dino stared at him, fascinated by the play of light through water and glass on his face, so beautiful and unreal, aware also that he himself seemed loud and clumsy in contrast with his prattling and stupid questions.
They look unhappy, Kyouya said unexpectedly.
Why do you say that?
The glass, Kyouya had said, pressing his hand to the glass, it keeps them in. They can’t be free.
They’re not birds, Kyouya. They have to stay in the water.
They could be in the ocean. Where they belong.
Even the ocean has limits, Kyouya.
Just like human beings.
He had heard that Kyouya had engaged the enemy head on, driven them out, cut a path to the outside and the sky. If Kyouya had been one of these fish, he mused, he would have been the one struggling to break free of the glass into the world, no matter if he couldn’t survive in the sky. Dino knew, deep in his heart, that Kyouya was young and reckless and heading straight for a desperate and violent end someday on a street corner soaked in his own blood. But now, more than ever, he wished he had the power to keep Kyouya here, beside him. He wanted to hold back the flood of water than came with the broken glass and keep Kyouya safe.
Impossible. Everything about Kyouya was impossible. Dino loved him anyway. Once it had been hard to say that word (just like, once, he had been so afraid of all that water behind the glass, afraid that the pressure would come crashing down on his head, before he learned to shoulder the weight and carry on), because mafia bosses weren’t supposed to love, love was for the weak. But loving Kyouya was like breaking the glass of his own aquarium to let the fish free, because Kyouya was his world. It had been a way to hold onto himself in the rushing tide.
“Boss,” Romario said gently, tapping his shoulder. “I think it’s time to go.”
Dino clenched his fists; the plastic cup crumbled; coffee leaked onto the floor.
“Okay,” He nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay, let’s go.”
He turned his back on the rising panes of glass and the soft calming light and stepped out of the darkness, into the clean and white lobby, out into the brilliant, dazzling sky stretching far above him, forever into eternity.
But in the shadows of the pillars is a figure in a dark suit, cloud-skin and midnight-hair, with a familiar smirk that promises the sky and the world and everything in between--danger and death and sex and even love.
“Kyouya,” His breath catches in his throat, because Kyouya is supposed to be dead, the reports said he was missing in action and the Millefiore take no prisoners, but here he is lounging in the sunshine as though ten years of death and pain had never happened.
Kyouya smirked wider, and gestured lazily to the sky.
“It’s much nicer out here,” he said simply.
Dino smiled, and shrugged.
“I think so, too,” he laughed, leaning down to kiss Kyouya on the mouth. He pulled him gently into his arms, and for once Kyouya didn’t resist but smirked wider, let himself be wrapped in Dino’s embrace.
He tasted of salt, blood or sea, and sky, clean and young. And Dino felt the glass walls of fear and worry break down in the face of the world.
Notes: Last line took forever, and it was death.
Hey,
arisuesei
I made it happy TYL!
Aren't you proud of me?
Sorry it's late. And somewhat short.
Aquarius
The cheap plastic cup of his expensive coffee shook in Dino’s hands. He should have known better than to buy it, he should have known it would make him even more jittery. He should have bought something calming, like tea. But Italian tea was never as good as Japanese tea; it didn’t have the right aroma, the right texture, the taste and sensation he had come to love, though he had found it terribly sharp and bitter at first.
To pass the time he leaned back against the soft dark walls and watched the fish swimming behind the glass. He would hate to be a fish, even though it seemed so peaceful. Much more peaceful than the life of a mafia boss, anyway, especially now in the middle of underground wars and bloody revolutions. If he could have, he might just willingly trade with the tropical fish suspended in endless blue water, like floating in the sky. Have a nice life just puttering around, blowing bubbles, eating…
He yawned, and took a sip of coffee.
The Vongola messenger was three hours late. He had been told it would be instantly obvious who was here to meet him, but Dino had to admit to himself that he wasn’t expecting anyone to come. Since the attack on the base two weeks ago no further communication could be established. It was more of a conditioned response that brought him here-keep your appointments. He suspected, though, that whoever he was waiting for was already dead.
He didn’t want to think about it. He concentrated instead on vaulted tanks rising like cathedral stained glass high above him. It never failed to amaze him how many different kinds of fish there were, the colors and shapes and sizes. Fish streaked with brilliant streams of vermillion like lines of blood or paint, fish dappled with the pattern of shadow on the water and filtered sunlight. But none, he noticed, of that peculiar, delicate pink-tinged white, gunmetal grey and midnight rain.
Look, Kyouya, he had said. Can you see all the fish?
Kyouya stared impassively at them. Dino stared at him, fascinated by the play of light through water and glass on his face, so beautiful and unreal, aware also that he himself seemed loud and clumsy in contrast with his prattling and stupid questions.
They look unhappy, Kyouya said unexpectedly.
Why do you say that?
The glass, Kyouya had said, pressing his hand to the glass, it keeps them in. They can’t be free.
They’re not birds, Kyouya. They have to stay in the water.
They could be in the ocean. Where they belong.
Even the ocean has limits, Kyouya.
Just like human beings.
He had heard that Kyouya had engaged the enemy head on, driven them out, cut a path to the outside and the sky. If Kyouya had been one of these fish, he mused, he would have been the one struggling to break free of the glass into the world, no matter if he couldn’t survive in the sky. Dino knew, deep in his heart, that Kyouya was young and reckless and heading straight for a desperate and violent end someday on a street corner soaked in his own blood. But now, more than ever, he wished he had the power to keep Kyouya here, beside him. He wanted to hold back the flood of water than came with the broken glass and keep Kyouya safe.
Impossible. Everything about Kyouya was impossible. Dino loved him anyway. Once it had been hard to say that word (just like, once, he had been so afraid of all that water behind the glass, afraid that the pressure would come crashing down on his head, before he learned to shoulder the weight and carry on), because mafia bosses weren’t supposed to love, love was for the weak. But loving Kyouya was like breaking the glass of his own aquarium to let the fish free, because Kyouya was his world. It had been a way to hold onto himself in the rushing tide.
“Boss,” Romario said gently, tapping his shoulder. “I think it’s time to go.”
Dino clenched his fists; the plastic cup crumbled; coffee leaked onto the floor.
“Okay,” He nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay, let’s go.”
He turned his back on the rising panes of glass and the soft calming light and stepped out of the darkness, into the clean and white lobby, out into the brilliant, dazzling sky stretching far above him, forever into eternity.
But in the shadows of the pillars is a figure in a dark suit, cloud-skin and midnight-hair, with a familiar smirk that promises the sky and the world and everything in between--danger and death and sex and even love.
“Kyouya,” His breath catches in his throat, because Kyouya is supposed to be dead, the reports said he was missing in action and the Millefiore take no prisoners, but here he is lounging in the sunshine as though ten years of death and pain had never happened.
Kyouya smirked wider, and gestured lazily to the sky.
“It’s much nicer out here,” he said simply.
Dino smiled, and shrugged.
“I think so, too,” he laughed, leaning down to kiss Kyouya on the mouth. He pulled him gently into his arms, and for once Kyouya didn’t resist but smirked wider, let himself be wrapped in Dino’s embrace.
He tasted of salt, blood or sea, and sky, clean and young. And Dino felt the glass walls of fear and worry break down in the face of the world.
Notes: Last line took forever, and it was death.
Hey,
arisuesei
I made it happy TYL!
Aren't you proud of me?