(no subject)
Wrote this in like...30 minutes or less so apologies for crappiness/errors. This song eats my soul (I love it though) and I blame it for this fic. Also needed a break from AtoJi porn. -_-;
Title: You're gone (Because I really suck at titles. Pleh.)
Pairing: Oshitari/Gakuto...kinda
Rating: I dunno...PG?
Warning: Angst, character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Um...Gakuto grieves? It's sad, so don't read if you don't like that.
Word count: 720
For the interested, I uploaded the song I was listening to (on Sendspace):
Cranberries - When You're Gone
Gakuto sunk to his knees, kneeling in the newly laid grass under his feet. The ground was cold despite the sun shining above him and the usual hot summer weather. He sat there silently, hands clenching the stems of the flowers in his hands tightly, not even noticing when the thorn from one of the roses cut through his skin. He didn’t even want to put the flowers down, looking at all the others that had already been left, feeling sorely inadequate when all he had was a simple bouquet to place amongst the lavish floral arrangements left by everyone else.
“Simple is best,” Atobe had said, a surprising statement coming from Gakuto’s former captain who was known for always going over the top.
He had agreed at the time, simple had always been best. Simple had been the way Gakuto always made the morning coffee, the breakfast - toast, buttered - simple was the way that his Yuushi always liked things.
But looking at the other flowers in front of him, Gakuto realized that this should have been the second occasion, the first being their wedding, that his Yuushi would have made an exception.
He could feel it bubbling up again, the burning tears he couldn’t stop. They fell down his cheeks and onto the ground underneath him, onto his plain flowers that he was practically crushing as he clenched them tightly, wishing that it was all a dream. He felt the pain in his hand but it didn’t stop him, only serving as a harsh realization that what was in front of him was no dream.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the soft grass as the sobs tore through him, shaking his entire body. His hand was bleeding and he didn’t care, hardly even noticing it now.
He didn’t want to move from this spot. It wasn’t fair, after all, that he was the one here instead of his Yuushi. Yuushi was the one who still had so much left to do, Yuushi was the one who was always stronger than Gakuto, and Yuushi was the one who deserved, more than anyone, a second chance. Not Gakuto. At least, not in his opinion.
Gakuto slowly lifted his head, his face stained with tears. “Oshitari Yuushi…” he said quietly, voice hoarse and scratchy. He hadn’t spoken to anyone once the grief hit him, even on the few occasions the tears and sobs actually did pause.
His fingers were tracing the name on the stone in front of him. He was shaking still as he did it, desperately wishing that he could feel him again through the engraved letters.
“Age…thirty-two…” he said, choking back another sob.
He slowly placed his flowers with the others, they looked so poor in comparison, especially after being crushed like they were. He sobbed again and desperately tried to fix them. “I’m sorry, Yuushi,” he said quietly through his sobs. He laid down on the grass, curling up, crying, not wanting to leave.
“Gaku-chan…” It was Jirou, speaking to him quietly. “We can come back tomorrow, okay? It’s…it’s getting dark…”
Gakuto was ignoring him, but knew that he would have to leave. Atobe and Jirou would not let him spend the night here, and they were his ride home. The car had been totaled in the wreck.
His hands gripped the ground tightly as he continued to cry, angrily screaming a couple times, his hands turning to fists and pounding the ground. It was painful to watch, the blood from his cut still on his hand, dry and flaking off, mixing with the dirt he was clawing from the ground as he desperately tried to get some connection through the six feet of earth.
Jirou slowly approached him, wrapping his arms around his waist to try and pull him up. For once, Gakuto was too weak to fight back and let Jirou pull him up from the ground, still sobbing. He clung to him, just needing someone to hold onto.
“We’ll bring you back tomorrow, Gaku-chan…” he said quietly. “As many times as you need…”
Gakuto knew that he was trying to be helpful, but to him it didn’t matter. He’d lost his Yuushi, there was nothing left for him now, coming back everyday would never be enough.
Oshitari Yuushi was dead.
END
Title: You're gone (Because I really suck at titles. Pleh.)
Pairing: Oshitari/Gakuto...kinda
Rating: I dunno...PG?
Warning: Angst, character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Um...Gakuto grieves? It's sad, so don't read if you don't like that.
Word count: 720
For the interested, I uploaded the song I was listening to (on Sendspace):
Cranberries - When You're Gone
Gakuto sunk to his knees, kneeling in the newly laid grass under his feet. The ground was cold despite the sun shining above him and the usual hot summer weather. He sat there silently, hands clenching the stems of the flowers in his hands tightly, not even noticing when the thorn from one of the roses cut through his skin. He didn’t even want to put the flowers down, looking at all the others that had already been left, feeling sorely inadequate when all he had was a simple bouquet to place amongst the lavish floral arrangements left by everyone else.
“Simple is best,” Atobe had said, a surprising statement coming from Gakuto’s former captain who was known for always going over the top.
He had agreed at the time, simple had always been best. Simple had been the way Gakuto always made the morning coffee, the breakfast - toast, buttered - simple was the way that his Yuushi always liked things.
But looking at the other flowers in front of him, Gakuto realized that this should have been the second occasion, the first being their wedding, that his Yuushi would have made an exception.
He could feel it bubbling up again, the burning tears he couldn’t stop. They fell down his cheeks and onto the ground underneath him, onto his plain flowers that he was practically crushing as he clenched them tightly, wishing that it was all a dream. He felt the pain in his hand but it didn’t stop him, only serving as a harsh realization that what was in front of him was no dream.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the soft grass as the sobs tore through him, shaking his entire body. His hand was bleeding and he didn’t care, hardly even noticing it now.
He didn’t want to move from this spot. It wasn’t fair, after all, that he was the one here instead of his Yuushi. Yuushi was the one who still had so much left to do, Yuushi was the one who was always stronger than Gakuto, and Yuushi was the one who deserved, more than anyone, a second chance. Not Gakuto. At least, not in his opinion.
Gakuto slowly lifted his head, his face stained with tears. “Oshitari Yuushi…” he said quietly, voice hoarse and scratchy. He hadn’t spoken to anyone once the grief hit him, even on the few occasions the tears and sobs actually did pause.
His fingers were tracing the name on the stone in front of him. He was shaking still as he did it, desperately wishing that he could feel him again through the engraved letters.
“Age…thirty-two…” he said, choking back another sob.
He slowly placed his flowers with the others, they looked so poor in comparison, especially after being crushed like they were. He sobbed again and desperately tried to fix them. “I’m sorry, Yuushi,” he said quietly through his sobs. He laid down on the grass, curling up, crying, not wanting to leave.
“Gaku-chan…” It was Jirou, speaking to him quietly. “We can come back tomorrow, okay? It’s…it’s getting dark…”
Gakuto was ignoring him, but knew that he would have to leave. Atobe and Jirou would not let him spend the night here, and they were his ride home. The car had been totaled in the wreck.
His hands gripped the ground tightly as he continued to cry, angrily screaming a couple times, his hands turning to fists and pounding the ground. It was painful to watch, the blood from his cut still on his hand, dry and flaking off, mixing with the dirt he was clawing from the ground as he desperately tried to get some connection through the six feet of earth.
Jirou slowly approached him, wrapping his arms around his waist to try and pull him up. For once, Gakuto was too weak to fight back and let Jirou pull him up from the ground, still sobbing. He clung to him, just needing someone to hold onto.
“We’ll bring you back tomorrow, Gaku-chan…” he said quietly. “As many times as you need…”
Gakuto knew that he was trying to be helpful, but to him it didn’t matter. He’d lost his Yuushi, there was nothing left for him now, coming back everyday would never be enough.
Oshitari Yuushi was dead.
END