(no subject)
Title: untitled
Author/Artist: rainXlikeXstars
Rating: PG to be safe, probably works as General
Warnings: Ryohei's dead, never really written Kyoko before
Prompt:
Word count: 1096
Summary: She wanted to open the box.
[1]
The news came in the form of a letter, and the letter came with a box. She took it to her room, closed the door and slit it open with the letter opener he’d sent earlier that year. It was a delicate tool, careful and girlish and easy to lose, and looking back it was fitting that the last little souvenir he’d given her was what told her it was the last little souvenir. That there would be nothing left to send her, because he was dead.
She folded up the letter, carefully, slid it into the drawer, and then she covered her face with her hands and she cried, but there was no one there to reach out and comfort her, because she had closed the door and there was no one in the house anyway. She preferred it this way; if someone was there to hold her and put a hand on her shoulder, she would just cry harder and then she wasn’t sure she would stop.
When she was done, she wiped her eyes and stood and went to fold the laundry, returned to the life she’d been living quickly, smoothly, like the letter had said nothing important at all. Haru called later that evening, and she smiled into the receiver and said she would be fine. Ryohei wouldn’t want her to cry. He’d want her to be strong, and she had to go, she was in the middle of dinner.
Her voice almost choked up on that last word, making it come out oddly cracked. “Din-ner”.
Haru only let her hang up because she couldn’t find a way to argue with it.
She didn’t open the box.
[2]
She woke up in the middle of the night, nine hours and twenty three minutes after she’d gotten the hand-delivered letter, and she couldn’t quite remember what she’d been dreaming about, just that it had been a sad dream, or a slightly scary one; not quite restless, but not quite restful either. Something sort of heavy and cold, and she slipped out of bed, careful to be silent even though when Ryohei wasn’t there there wasn’t anyone to hear her.
She sat down and stared at herself in the full-view mirror, and thought she looked like a child; she was and always had been the one everyone had to protect, and it was sort of to be expected that one of these days someone would have to die, but she’d never actually expected it to happen. It just didn’t happen.
She pressed her forehead against her knees and tried not to cry.
She didn’t open the box.
[3]
She didn’t open the box the next night or the night after that; it stayed closed for about another week before she finally got the courage to go down and open it, once again in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t a very large box, just big enough to hold, she found, the Vongola sun guardian ring, a pair of boxing gloves, and a smaller, grander looking box that made her eyes start watering all over again. She couldn’t open it, so she closed everything back up and cried herself to sleep.
[4]
The next day, she woke up and she went down and she put the ring on her finger and she closed her eyes and held her breath until she was dizzy, but it didn’t do anything. She offered her resolve up like a prayer, like a wish.
Maybe she was doing it wrong, but there was always a tremble underneath her eyelids, like a nightmare, and she couldn’t figure out how to focus on it in any other way.
“Maybe it’s the wrong type,” Haru said, as she and Kyoko and Hana all sat in a café together, eating cake and wondering if it was going to rain later. If it was, they should really leave now, but it was a lazy sort of day, and none of them really felt like going home.
“Well, Ryohei was sun type, wasn’t he?” Hana argued, “So Kyoko’s probably a sun type too. It just takes time to get into that sort of mind set.”
But time doesn’t fix being weak.
Kyoko thought it, and she acknowledged that she thought it, but she didn’t say it out loud and she told herself she wouldn’t think it again, sipping at her tea and forcing herself not to break down. This was hard on Hana too, she knew, and Haru, and Tsuna, and Gokudera, and Yamamoto, and Lambo everyone else.
They finished their cakes and drinks and went home. She couldn’t remember what they talked about after that, just had a vague memory of smiling and laughing.
[5]
She went to talk to Hibari the next day, after class. He might have been surprised to see her, but he seemed to feel that what she was asking was normal enough and gave her a room to work in.
He wouldn’t let her take any of the rings home, so she said she would probably be back later, sitting down at the little table with seven little boxes and seven little rings. She noticed that each of them had a tag on them, each a different color of the rainbow, and part of her wanted to say something about it, but she didn’t.
She just smiled and apologized for the inconvenience.
[6]
It was another week before she managed to create a flame; a blue purple one, for (she checked the list Hibari had given her) Mist. It was another three days before her wish-prayer-desperation was enough to open it’s matching box, and another four before she could move the puffin inside more than a foot.
Hibari was either aggravated or amused when he came to tell her it was time to leave, it was hard to tell. He told her she could keep the ring and the box and she smiled and thanked him and cradled it to her chest.
[7]
She would never open the second box, no matter how she manipulated her flame. She wouldn’t ask any one for help in this, either, and she laughed it off and said it wasn’t supposed to be that way when Haru suggested asking Tsuna. She knew what was inside, anyway, and perhaps the box was, in a way, protecting a last reminder of her brother more that she ever could.
Hana nodded and looked away. Haru watched her for a moment longer, looking worried. Kyoko told herself that she would be strong.
And most of her believed it.
Author/Artist: rainXlikeXstars
Rating: PG to be safe, probably works as General
Warnings: Ryohei's dead, never really written Kyoko before
Prompt:
Word count: 1096
Summary: She wanted to open the box.
[1]
The news came in the form of a letter, and the letter came with a box. She took it to her room, closed the door and slit it open with the letter opener he’d sent earlier that year. It was a delicate tool, careful and girlish and easy to lose, and looking back it was fitting that the last little souvenir he’d given her was what told her it was the last little souvenir. That there would be nothing left to send her, because he was dead.
She folded up the letter, carefully, slid it into the drawer, and then she covered her face with her hands and she cried, but there was no one there to reach out and comfort her, because she had closed the door and there was no one in the house anyway. She preferred it this way; if someone was there to hold her and put a hand on her shoulder, she would just cry harder and then she wasn’t sure she would stop.
When she was done, she wiped her eyes and stood and went to fold the laundry, returned to the life she’d been living quickly, smoothly, like the letter had said nothing important at all. Haru called later that evening, and she smiled into the receiver and said she would be fine. Ryohei wouldn’t want her to cry. He’d want her to be strong, and she had to go, she was in the middle of dinner.
Her voice almost choked up on that last word, making it come out oddly cracked. “Din-ner”.
Haru only let her hang up because she couldn’t find a way to argue with it.
She didn’t open the box.
[2]
She woke up in the middle of the night, nine hours and twenty three minutes after she’d gotten the hand-delivered letter, and she couldn’t quite remember what she’d been dreaming about, just that it had been a sad dream, or a slightly scary one; not quite restless, but not quite restful either. Something sort of heavy and cold, and she slipped out of bed, careful to be silent even though when Ryohei wasn’t there there wasn’t anyone to hear her.
She sat down and stared at herself in the full-view mirror, and thought she looked like a child; she was and always had been the one everyone had to protect, and it was sort of to be expected that one of these days someone would have to die, but she’d never actually expected it to happen. It just didn’t happen.
She pressed her forehead against her knees and tried not to cry.
She didn’t open the box.
[3]
She didn’t open the box the next night or the night after that; it stayed closed for about another week before she finally got the courage to go down and open it, once again in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t a very large box, just big enough to hold, she found, the Vongola sun guardian ring, a pair of boxing gloves, and a smaller, grander looking box that made her eyes start watering all over again. She couldn’t open it, so she closed everything back up and cried herself to sleep.
[4]
The next day, she woke up and she went down and she put the ring on her finger and she closed her eyes and held her breath until she was dizzy, but it didn’t do anything. She offered her resolve up like a prayer, like a wish.
Maybe she was doing it wrong, but there was always a tremble underneath her eyelids, like a nightmare, and she couldn’t figure out how to focus on it in any other way.
“Maybe it’s the wrong type,” Haru said, as she and Kyoko and Hana all sat in a café together, eating cake and wondering if it was going to rain later. If it was, they should really leave now, but it was a lazy sort of day, and none of them really felt like going home.
“Well, Ryohei was sun type, wasn’t he?” Hana argued, “So Kyoko’s probably a sun type too. It just takes time to get into that sort of mind set.”
But time doesn’t fix being weak.
Kyoko thought it, and she acknowledged that she thought it, but she didn’t say it out loud and she told herself she wouldn’t think it again, sipping at her tea and forcing herself not to break down. This was hard on Hana too, she knew, and Haru, and Tsuna, and Gokudera, and Yamamoto, and Lambo everyone else.
They finished their cakes and drinks and went home. She couldn’t remember what they talked about after that, just had a vague memory of smiling and laughing.
[5]
She went to talk to Hibari the next day, after class. He might have been surprised to see her, but he seemed to feel that what she was asking was normal enough and gave her a room to work in.
He wouldn’t let her take any of the rings home, so she said she would probably be back later, sitting down at the little table with seven little boxes and seven little rings. She noticed that each of them had a tag on them, each a different color of the rainbow, and part of her wanted to say something about it, but she didn’t.
She just smiled and apologized for the inconvenience.
[6]
It was another week before she managed to create a flame; a blue purple one, for (she checked the list Hibari had given her) Mist. It was another three days before her wish-prayer-desperation was enough to open it’s matching box, and another four before she could move the puffin inside more than a foot.
Hibari was either aggravated or amused when he came to tell her it was time to leave, it was hard to tell. He told her she could keep the ring and the box and she smiled and thanked him and cradled it to her chest.
[7]
She would never open the second box, no matter how she manipulated her flame. She wouldn’t ask any one for help in this, either, and she laughed it off and said it wasn’t supposed to be that way when Haru suggested asking Tsuna. She knew what was inside, anyway, and perhaps the box was, in a way, protecting a last reminder of her brother more that she ever could.
Hana nodded and looked away. Haru watched her for a moment longer, looking worried. Kyoko told herself that she would be strong.
And most of her believed it.