Deliquesce -- Drabble
Title: Deliquesce
Chapter: Drabble
Author: invisiblehabits
Genre: AU, Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: Shapeshiters, sort of character death?
Pairings: Tora/Hiroto
Disclaimer: If I could make money off of Alice Nine members I would not be living in Sweden, trust me.
Summary: “You’ll always be welcome here,” he said lowly once he felt like he could speak again. “My mother… she knows what it’s like when you need someone to talk to.”
Comments: The other day I finished Linger by Maggie Stiefvater. It made me want to write something about knowing you’ll lose someone, and that’s how this little thing came to be. I won’t even try to deny I shamelessly stole details from Stiefvater, please forgive me.
”I wish we hadn’t met.”
It was a sad whispered truth, spoken on a night that might be their last. Hiroto shivered and pressed closer, dug nails into achingly human skin.
“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “These months… I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”
“I know,” Tora said brokenly and held him more tightly. “But… I feel selfish. I’ll leave you to deal with it on your own. I won’t remember you.”
His voice broke then and he buried his face in Hiroto’s shockingly blonde hair. It was the first time Hiroto had seen him crumble and it made the entire situation more real than he wanted it to be.
“I don’t want to forget you,” Tora whispered against his scalp, words Hiroto hardly knew if he heard or felt. “But I will. I’ll forget you and it’ll be easier for me. You…”
“I’ll remember for both of us,” Hiroto said wetly and hated the tears slipping down his cheeks.
Tora held him, let him cry and cried himself. He felt it in his skin, the upcoming shift, and Hiroto felt it in his unease. He had lived 30 years of regular shifts - half year tiger, half year human - without fault. When he woke up as human six months ago and learnt it’d been three years since his family saw him last he knew. They all got one last turn, a chance to tie up the loose ends before slipping into their second skin for the remainder or their lives. It was a cruel fate to meet someone special on that last turn. He’d gone through life alone, unable to find a partner whom he trusted enough to tell his secret. The idea of having someone waiting for him each time he took to two legs again had been appealing, but he also knew the longing in his mother’s eyes each time she turned her gaze towards the woods.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” he said lowly once he felt like he could speak again. “My mother… she knows what it’s like when you need someone to talk to.”
Hiroto pulled back just far enough he could gaze into Tora’s golden eyes. Six months ago he would’ve argued it wasn’t possible to fall in love so quickly. Not to the point where it felt like his life would lose purpose if Tora wasn’t there in the morning. But then he also would’ve argued it was impossible for a man to change shape yet he’d come to accept that as a truth.
“Can I stay in here when I do?”
Here meant in Tora’s private quarters, a small section of the large traditional house that’d been in his family for generations. Each generation decreased the number of inhabitants though, one of the few worries Tora would be glad to be rid of. He leaned his forehead against Hiroto’s.
“Of course,” he whispered. “For as long as you need to.”
They fell asleep like that, nose to nose breathing each other’s air. It was a deceptively peaceful moment that Hiroto wouldn’t remember until years later. For only a few hours after being lulled to sleep by Tora’s steady heartbeat beneath his fingertips, Hiroto woke up with a start by Tora tumbling out of bed with a pained cry. He was out the door before Hiroto had time to react and though he gathered his wits fairly fast it wasn’t fast enough. He stumbled out the door onto the wooden deck and saw the large cat just as it reached the edge of the courtyard.
“Tora!”
He hadn’t meant to yell, but his voice made the animal stop. Most likely it was startled or frightened, a natural reaction in the presence of a human, but for whatever reason it turned its head towards the house. The barely there morning light caught in the yellow irises and fresh tears spilled down Hiroto’s cheeks. If he’d ever doubted he couldn’t anymore. He hadn’t seen the shift itself, but the eyes meeting his over the small courtyard were Tora’s, eerily human in the feline face. The moment lasted no more than a few seconds, then the tiger turned towards the forest and disappeared between the trees.
“Tora…”
A blanket was draped over his shoulders and it was only then Hiroto realised he was kneeling. Sitting with his legs carelessly folded underneath him even. Tearing his eyes from the treeline he looked up at Tora’s mother and the resigned grief in her eyes.
“Come dear,” she said and pulled him to his feet. “He’s gone.”
Her voice was steady, didn’t betray her the way her eyes did. Mrs Amano had lost her husband this way before Hiroto was even born, now her son had gone the same way. It couldn’t be said Tora had gone to join his father, because his father had to be dead by now. A tiger lived about 20-25 years, a shifter could hope for maybe half of that after they went fully feline. Hiroto didn’t want to think of that, of Tora being dead. Even if he was no longer there with him, he wanted to think of him running in the woods.
“I didn’t get to tell him I love him,” he whispered brokenly, eyes on the treeline where the tiger had disappeared. “I wanted to tell him again before he changed.”
“He knew,” Mrs Amano said and placed an arm around him. “He wouldn’t have told you his secret otherwise.”
“Did you ever see him again?” Hiroto asked. “Your husband.”
“No,” she said and only hesitated for a moment, discretely wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “But I like to think he saw me sometimes, from the forest.”
Hiroto nodded slowly and leaned into her even though she was smaller than him. He liked that thought, the idea of Tora seeing him when he came to visit. It didn’t ease the pain of knowing he would never see Tora again though.
“Come,” Mrs Amano said again. “I’ll make you some tea.”
“I’ll just be a moment,” he promised and she nodded in understanding, left him on his own out there. He stared at the treeline, let his eyes wander further into the forest. There were no signs of life, at least none he could detect, but he knew it was there. Birds were beginning to sing their morning drills as the world took on the colours of dawn.
“I’m glad I met you,” he whispered even though Tora couldn’t hear it. Then he turned his back on the forest, walked inside, and closed the door behind him.
Chapter: Drabble
Author: invisiblehabits
Genre: AU, Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: Shapeshiters, sort of character death?
Pairings: Tora/Hiroto
Disclaimer: If I could make money off of Alice Nine members I would not be living in Sweden, trust me.
Summary: “You’ll always be welcome here,” he said lowly once he felt like he could speak again. “My mother… she knows what it’s like when you need someone to talk to.”
Comments: The other day I finished Linger by Maggie Stiefvater. It made me want to write something about knowing you’ll lose someone, and that’s how this little thing came to be. I won’t even try to deny I shamelessly stole details from Stiefvater, please forgive me.
”I wish we hadn’t met.”
It was a sad whispered truth, spoken on a night that might be their last. Hiroto shivered and pressed closer, dug nails into achingly human skin.
“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “These months… I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”
“I know,” Tora said brokenly and held him more tightly. “But… I feel selfish. I’ll leave you to deal with it on your own. I won’t remember you.”
His voice broke then and he buried his face in Hiroto’s shockingly blonde hair. It was the first time Hiroto had seen him crumble and it made the entire situation more real than he wanted it to be.
“I don’t want to forget you,” Tora whispered against his scalp, words Hiroto hardly knew if he heard or felt. “But I will. I’ll forget you and it’ll be easier for me. You…”
“I’ll remember for both of us,” Hiroto said wetly and hated the tears slipping down his cheeks.
Tora held him, let him cry and cried himself. He felt it in his skin, the upcoming shift, and Hiroto felt it in his unease. He had lived 30 years of regular shifts - half year tiger, half year human - without fault. When he woke up as human six months ago and learnt it’d been three years since his family saw him last he knew. They all got one last turn, a chance to tie up the loose ends before slipping into their second skin for the remainder or their lives. It was a cruel fate to meet someone special on that last turn. He’d gone through life alone, unable to find a partner whom he trusted enough to tell his secret. The idea of having someone waiting for him each time he took to two legs again had been appealing, but he also knew the longing in his mother’s eyes each time she turned her gaze towards the woods.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” he said lowly once he felt like he could speak again. “My mother… she knows what it’s like when you need someone to talk to.”
Hiroto pulled back just far enough he could gaze into Tora’s golden eyes. Six months ago he would’ve argued it wasn’t possible to fall in love so quickly. Not to the point where it felt like his life would lose purpose if Tora wasn’t there in the morning. But then he also would’ve argued it was impossible for a man to change shape yet he’d come to accept that as a truth.
“Can I stay in here when I do?”
Here meant in Tora’s private quarters, a small section of the large traditional house that’d been in his family for generations. Each generation decreased the number of inhabitants though, one of the few worries Tora would be glad to be rid of. He leaned his forehead against Hiroto’s.
“Of course,” he whispered. “For as long as you need to.”
They fell asleep like that, nose to nose breathing each other’s air. It was a deceptively peaceful moment that Hiroto wouldn’t remember until years later. For only a few hours after being lulled to sleep by Tora’s steady heartbeat beneath his fingertips, Hiroto woke up with a start by Tora tumbling out of bed with a pained cry. He was out the door before Hiroto had time to react and though he gathered his wits fairly fast it wasn’t fast enough. He stumbled out the door onto the wooden deck and saw the large cat just as it reached the edge of the courtyard.
“Tora!”
He hadn’t meant to yell, but his voice made the animal stop. Most likely it was startled or frightened, a natural reaction in the presence of a human, but for whatever reason it turned its head towards the house. The barely there morning light caught in the yellow irises and fresh tears spilled down Hiroto’s cheeks. If he’d ever doubted he couldn’t anymore. He hadn’t seen the shift itself, but the eyes meeting his over the small courtyard were Tora’s, eerily human in the feline face. The moment lasted no more than a few seconds, then the tiger turned towards the forest and disappeared between the trees.
“Tora…”
A blanket was draped over his shoulders and it was only then Hiroto realised he was kneeling. Sitting with his legs carelessly folded underneath him even. Tearing his eyes from the treeline he looked up at Tora’s mother and the resigned grief in her eyes.
“Come dear,” she said and pulled him to his feet. “He’s gone.”
Her voice was steady, didn’t betray her the way her eyes did. Mrs Amano had lost her husband this way before Hiroto was even born, now her son had gone the same way. It couldn’t be said Tora had gone to join his father, because his father had to be dead by now. A tiger lived about 20-25 years, a shifter could hope for maybe half of that after they went fully feline. Hiroto didn’t want to think of that, of Tora being dead. Even if he was no longer there with him, he wanted to think of him running in the woods.
“I didn’t get to tell him I love him,” he whispered brokenly, eyes on the treeline where the tiger had disappeared. “I wanted to tell him again before he changed.”
“He knew,” Mrs Amano said and placed an arm around him. “He wouldn’t have told you his secret otherwise.”
“Did you ever see him again?” Hiroto asked. “Your husband.”
“No,” she said and only hesitated for a moment, discretely wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “But I like to think he saw me sometimes, from the forest.”
Hiroto nodded slowly and leaned into her even though she was smaller than him. He liked that thought, the idea of Tora seeing him when he came to visit. It didn’t ease the pain of knowing he would never see Tora again though.
“Come,” Mrs Amano said again. “I’ll make you some tea.”
“I’ll just be a moment,” he promised and she nodded in understanding, left him on his own out there. He stared at the treeline, let his eyes wander further into the forest. There were no signs of life, at least none he could detect, but he knew it was there. Birds were beginning to sing their morning drills as the world took on the colours of dawn.
“I’m glad I met you,” he whispered even though Tora couldn’t hear it. Then he turned his back on the forest, walked inside, and closed the door behind him.