Darkship Prompt Meme: We're in this together [Kenji/Otcho]
Darkship Prompt Meme
Fandom: 20th Century Boys
Pairing: Kenji/Otcho
We're in this together
He jumps. He jumps into the monster, the robot -the joke-, and leaves all of them behind. And maybe he'll think this is better, maybe he will be proud -when he's dead-, because he did that for them, because he loved them and died for them. And saved the world, or tried to.
But it won't be true. It's not for us that you've done it, Kenji. Just admit it. It's not for us, because I was ready to jump, too, and the rest -all the others- were there to help. We didn't need to be saved; we didn't need a hero. We were in this together; you just didn't want to watch us die.
But, in that moment, the only thing Otcho can think of is fuck, if I could just jump there too, save him. Kanna's waiting for him. I have to...
And then there's all the rest, there's the end of the world and he's not sure if he will be able to think again -can the dead go on thinking?- and there are lots of men triying to get them, all of them, and he knows he's screwed.
He wakes up tied up, chained to a wall. Doesn't know how the heck he's ended up there -doesn't want to know, either, because maybe then he'll remember all the others, and how they've fallen, and how maybe they're with him, here. In hell.
This whole situation reminds him of all the old films -and probably the new ones, too-, where the good guy ends up framed by the bad guys and tries to scape -and he tries, of course- and in the end everything works out just fine. Going back to life, to a precious wife and a lovely son and maybe a dog -and it is exactly the same, only there's no happy ending for him. There won't be, even if he manages to scape from here, because Kenji... Kenji's dead. He can feel it. He knows it. And yet, he doesn't want to believe it.
They were good friends, all those years back. They were just that, good friends -and Otcho knows they could've been much more, if only he hadn't transferred. He would wake up, some years later, thinking about him, about them -about the kids in his old school, and what has become of them, really. Do they remember me?, he would think. Yoshitsune, Maruo, Mon-chan, Donkey, Yukiji, Keroyon -Kenji. He always thought of him in the end, as if his name was just an afterthought.
His parents told him it was weird. Wrong. Years later, when he was eighteen and told them he wasn't sure he wanted to marry a nice girl. He told them maybe it wasn't a good idea. He didn't want to lie.
But he needed to.
And then there was Shota -and perhaps, if he hadn't been so frustrated, so confused, maybe he could have saved him. But, as his master said, the what if's are not made to dwell on them.
When Kenji called him, the Shogun didn't recognize him right away. It took him some time -he remembered a Kenji, right, he remembered that boy with the cap and the whole secret refuge thing, and the superhero delusions. He remembered having thought about him -them- in some sort of compromising situations, back when he was a teenager and the memory was still fresh in his mind. Nothing else.
But he came, nonetheless, because he was alone and needed something, someone, to show him there was hope. For him.
And Kenji had changed, had changed a lot and not for the better, but he was still attractive, even with the little girl and the fear and everything, and the Shogun decided he wanted to be Otcho once more, because Ochiai-kun might had a better chance of starting again.
He did.
Their first kiss was somewhat messy. Unexpected, too, because they'd just met a few days back -again, yes, but what did it matter- and Kenji had just came back from patrolling and was still a bunny from the head down. But it was okay, Otcho guessed -he couldn't know; it'd been a while since he'd kissed anyone, lest a man-, it felt good enough for them to repeat, once and twice and everytime they got the chance. Just a kiss and a bit of touching, and something more, if they were lucky.
They didn't say they loved each other. Maybe they didn't, maybe they didn't need it. Words don't change anything; Otcho knows that better than anyone -Shota didn't come back when he said he was sorry-. Words don't change anything, because he told that stupid Kenji not to jump, he told him they were together in this, you can't leave me back, you asshole, and it meant nothing. Kenji's still dead.
So is Otcho.
Fandom: 20th Century Boys
Pairing: Kenji/Otcho
We're in this together
He jumps. He jumps into the monster, the robot -the joke-, and leaves all of them behind. And maybe he'll think this is better, maybe he will be proud -when he's dead-, because he did that for them, because he loved them and died for them. And saved the world, or tried to.
But it won't be true. It's not for us that you've done it, Kenji. Just admit it. It's not for us, because I was ready to jump, too, and the rest -all the others- were there to help. We didn't need to be saved; we didn't need a hero. We were in this together; you just didn't want to watch us die.
But, in that moment, the only thing Otcho can think of is fuck, if I could just jump there too, save him. Kanna's waiting for him. I have to...
And then there's all the rest, there's the end of the world and he's not sure if he will be able to think again -can the dead go on thinking?- and there are lots of men triying to get them, all of them, and he knows he's screwed.
He wakes up tied up, chained to a wall. Doesn't know how the heck he's ended up there -doesn't want to know, either, because maybe then he'll remember all the others, and how they've fallen, and how maybe they're with him, here. In hell.
This whole situation reminds him of all the old films -and probably the new ones, too-, where the good guy ends up framed by the bad guys and tries to scape -and he tries, of course- and in the end everything works out just fine. Going back to life, to a precious wife and a lovely son and maybe a dog -and it is exactly the same, only there's no happy ending for him. There won't be, even if he manages to scape from here, because Kenji... Kenji's dead. He can feel it. He knows it. And yet, he doesn't want to believe it.
They were good friends, all those years back. They were just that, good friends -and Otcho knows they could've been much more, if only he hadn't transferred. He would wake up, some years later, thinking about him, about them -about the kids in his old school, and what has become of them, really. Do they remember me?, he would think. Yoshitsune, Maruo, Mon-chan, Donkey, Yukiji, Keroyon -Kenji. He always thought of him in the end, as if his name was just an afterthought.
His parents told him it was weird. Wrong. Years later, when he was eighteen and told them he wasn't sure he wanted to marry a nice girl. He told them maybe it wasn't a good idea. He didn't want to lie.
But he needed to.
And then there was Shota -and perhaps, if he hadn't been so frustrated, so confused, maybe he could have saved him. But, as his master said, the what if's are not made to dwell on them.
When Kenji called him, the Shogun didn't recognize him right away. It took him some time -he remembered a Kenji, right, he remembered that boy with the cap and the whole secret refuge thing, and the superhero delusions. He remembered having thought about him -them- in some sort of compromising situations, back when he was a teenager and the memory was still fresh in his mind. Nothing else.
But he came, nonetheless, because he was alone and needed something, someone, to show him there was hope. For him.
And Kenji had changed, had changed a lot and not for the better, but he was still attractive, even with the little girl and the fear and everything, and the Shogun decided he wanted to be Otcho once more, because Ochiai-kun might had a better chance of starting again.
He did.
Their first kiss was somewhat messy. Unexpected, too, because they'd just met a few days back -again, yes, but what did it matter- and Kenji had just came back from patrolling and was still a bunny from the head down. But it was okay, Otcho guessed -he couldn't know; it'd been a while since he'd kissed anyone, lest a man-, it felt good enough for them to repeat, once and twice and everytime they got the chance. Just a kiss and a bit of touching, and something more, if they were lucky.
They didn't say they loved each other. Maybe they didn't, maybe they didn't need it. Words don't change anything; Otcho knows that better than anyone -Shota didn't come back when he said he was sorry-. Words don't change anything, because he told that stupid Kenji not to jump, he told him they were together in this, you can't leave me back, you asshole, and it meant nothing. Kenji's still dead.
So is Otcho.