Fic: The Dog Days Are Over
Title comes from a Florence and the Machine song, fic was written for kassandra_lk 's ABC meme prompt "Fearsome", R/J.
There is one last stop on his journey around the world and then he can really say that he's been everywhere. It's not a place from which he can send a postcard. It would be pointless anyway, he thinks and takes a deep breath. Ando looks around and walks down the long corridor, taking everything in. He doesn't encounter a soul, a testimony to the early hour, and just keeps moving. His hiking boots, still wet from yesterday's downpour, make squeaky noises on the white marble. He looks down at them, and they are probably the filthiest thing he's ever seen. They don't fit into the picture he suddenly finds himself in and the thought makes him nervous. This place is holy, sacred and makes him feel like an utter idiot. It's also quite literally at the end of the world.
Only that every end is also an beginning, Ando reminds himself, lifts his hand and knocks on the door.
He stands in the silence, in the glow, in the light and wonders how people can really live in the presence of such pristine beauty. Life is tomato sauce on white shirts, tea that is too sweet, sun so hot that it makes your skin burn and the realisation that you forgot your umbrella under the table in the café seconds before the rain smacks you in the face. That's life, and he wouldn't want it any other way.
The door opens. He is met with an incredulous pair of violet eyes.
"Hi," he says, drops his bags and smiles.
Maybe he can take care of the tomato sauce stains part of life himself, Ando thinks and arrives in Crystal Tokyo and his new life.
The End
There is one last stop on his journey around the world and then he can really say that he's been everywhere. It's not a place from which he can send a postcard. It would be pointless anyway, he thinks and takes a deep breath. Ando looks around and walks down the long corridor, taking everything in. He doesn't encounter a soul, a testimony to the early hour, and just keeps moving. His hiking boots, still wet from yesterday's downpour, make squeaky noises on the white marble. He looks down at them, and they are probably the filthiest thing he's ever seen. They don't fit into the picture he suddenly finds himself in and the thought makes him nervous. This place is holy, sacred and makes him feel like an utter idiot. It's also quite literally at the end of the world.
Only that every end is also an beginning, Ando reminds himself, lifts his hand and knocks on the door.
He stands in the silence, in the glow, in the light and wonders how people can really live in the presence of such pristine beauty. Life is tomato sauce on white shirts, tea that is too sweet, sun so hot that it makes your skin burn and the realisation that you forgot your umbrella under the table in the café seconds before the rain smacks you in the face. That's life, and he wouldn't want it any other way.
The door opens. He is met with an incredulous pair of violet eyes.
"Hi," he says, drops his bags and smiles.
Maybe he can take care of the tomato sauce stains part of life himself, Ando thinks and arrives in Crystal Tokyo and his new life.
The End