Déjà vu - Chapter 3/11 [The Gazette - Reita/Ruki]
Title: Déjà vu
Author: shir0ukun
Rating: PG15 (in this chapter)
Genre: AU | Romance | Fluff | Angst | Slight Humour | Science Fiction | Drama
Chapter: [3/11]
Warnings: MxM sex | Witch Hunts | Time Travelling
Band[s]: The GazettE
Pairing[s]: Reita/Ruki (Akira/Takanori)
Synopsis: Akira is a historian who has spent much of his life unraveling the many dark histories of Great Britain. The dirty secrets of the past have tainted his soul, and just as his senses are to become completely numbed, he sets sight upon a beautiful inventor that keeps appearing in his dreams. Things get a little more complicated when this stranger he falls in love with turns out to have died- no less than three centuries ago.
Comments: It's finally here! *winks* Enjoy. (:
Previous Chapters:
[Chapter 2]
[Chapter 1]
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Chapter 3: “Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours”
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He was floating in darkness.
Light and weightless, there was no mind or body to bind him down. He was a completely separate entity from his existing body, now, not unlike an empty shell. Right after the oxygen gas had ceased its flow, a bright beam had fanned out beyond his blindfold; and then darkness once again consumed him whole. He was breathing- and yet he felt nothing. There was no pain, no obstructions- just a series of deathly silence. He exhaled slowly. And then it came.
The pain hit him from all sides, closing in on his body and crushing his organs into nothingness. His soul no longer felt feather-light, but ripped forcefully from his body and into pieces. He shook violently as the white hot pain melted into his very marrow, thrashing his head back and forth in a desperate attempt to escape from the straps holding him in place. His respiratory system now felt like it could barely function, and the restrainers only served to restrict his breathing. He wanted to break free from the agony; he wanted to tear the blindfold off and take a look at what was happening.
Did the machine fail to work? Maybe it malfunctioned? What… what is it?
All of a sudden, he wanted to go back. He wanted to go back to Kouyou- to tell him he was wrong, and that he should have never thought of time traveling. He would have apologized to his friend, and told himself that all this was going to go wrong. The pain only grew, until Akira’s body could no longer withhold the blow. Consciousness gradually slipped away from him, and he found himself drifting into an endless space of black.
His breathing was getting harder, coming out in short, ragged exhales. His body felt wet with his perspiration, and someone was pounding in his ears. The sound was deafening, threatening to break his eardrums anytime soon. He felt a violent shake as his heart pumped out its first pulse of blood in seemingly ages. His eyelids shot open.
I’m dreaming.
His complexion was smooth, his milky skin evidence of the years he had spent cooped up in his inventory. His natural blonde hair was tangled from the lack of proper care and his cheekbones, like his father’s, was high. His dark, brown orbs and button nose, Akira observed, took after his Asian mother. He recognized him. Those were the eyebrows that furrowed together when he was deep in thought. Those were the eyes, ridden with endless sadness, which stared into the distance as he waited for something to return.
Akira felt a deafening ring in his ears as the stranger slammed his hands against the door.
And he realized it wasn’t a dream.
As his consciousness start fading away from the lack of oxygen, Akira hit a large button to his right with his moving wrist and gasped when the door finally unlocked itself. The transparent material was wrung open by the stranger, his gaze filled with horror and concern.
“Are you okay?”
He spoke in clear English; but Akira would never mistake his Japanese accent for something else.
“Un…buckle…” His body felt like it was corroding away, and the sudden rush of air into his lungs was making him feel dizzy. A drop of perspiration trickled from his forehead as he gradually lost his grip on reality. He could feel warm hands on his lifeless body before his surroundings started to dim and turn into a familiar kind of darkness.
When he finally woke, pain crept through his body from where the leather straps previously were. He no longer had difficulty breathing, and he realized he was lying on something soft. Within his sight were the moldy bricks of the worn-out ceiling, leaking in some parts and gingerly held together by age-old cement. His shirt- ripped open hastily, fell apart when he shifted in the bed. His jeans were still intact under the covers. The room was eerily silent save for the rustle of sheets. He supported his abused body from the bed to take in his surroundings.
There was no doubt that the time machine had worked- and that he was now in the 18th century, for the room he was occupying bore unique tea sets and unusual devices even he himself could not quite identify. The room, large but not enormous, almost seemed to serve as a house itself, with a living area to one side and a tiny kitchen at a corner. The bedroom, assumingly the space he was taking up, was a simple bed to the side cordoned off with a long bookshelf. Priceless, Akira thought, as he briefly read through the spines of the books neatly arranged on the shelf. They were mostly books of sciences- not surprising; but these were books that died off even before the Victorian era. Magnificent.
As he returned to resting on the bed, Akira wrinkled his nose when a pleasant smell tickled his senses. He was certain that incense was lighted somewhere in the house, but there was no telling if people now even knew that such a device existed. Watch your mouth, Akira. He lost himself in the small setting, the cozy atmosphere with a friendly smell- he loved it here already.
The room turned cold when he heard the door open with a creak. Violent gusts of wind blew in from the entrance, the little rays of light seeping in marking the approach of nightfall. The time machine hadn’t gone wrong since he landed in the early morning- that would mean he’d been asleep for more than half a day. Rolling his head to the side, his gaze met with a shadow. The newcomer carried with him twigs, turning his back to Akira as he threw the wood into the crackling fire. Warmth embraced them as the flame roared to life in the fireplace.
The stranger stood for a long while by the fire, warming his body and rubbing his hands together. It was a long time before he turned around to address Akira.
“Hello.” He spoke in English, “How are you feeling now?”
“Much better than before, thanks.” Akira replied in Japanese, watching as the English-Japanese moved closer. When he was finally in full view, Akira’s gaze seemed to latch itself onto the stranger. He was just as he remembered- the exact replica from his dreams. His existence was simply breathtaking, and Akira convinced himself that this was reality. He was seeing him, smelling him, breathing him. The stranger stood beside the bed, his small form towering over the hazel blonde. Akira’s gaze met his for a short moment, before he noticed something odd.
“You’re Japanese!” The stranger chirped, a deep ring to his Japanese accent, “I found you by the river while I was out doing my research. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when the… thing… you were in just appeared out of thin air. Thank god I saw you in time… it’s rather quiet ‘round here, so you never know when someone’s going to come along…”
Akira was no longer paying attention. The mention of the time machine brought him back to his logical self. Kouyou’s words rang aloud in his mind.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you have any idea where the device is now? It is important to me.”
The stranger pointed in a direction where, Akira assumed, a separate building stood.
“It’s in the shed with my inventions, fully intact. I must admit it took me quite a long time to move it in, though.”
“Did anyone else see it?”
The stranger quirked an eyebrow.
“No, I’m the only one who lives around here,” He frowned, “Is anything the matter?”
“Oh, no, no,” Akira heaved an audible sigh, “Everything’s fine.”
“I see…” The stranger didn’t look convinced, but decided better than to probe, “Oh- how rude of me! I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Takanori.”
Akira smiled.
“My name is Akira.”
“Is there anything you need? I’ll get you a cup of water,” Takanori made his way to the kitchen over a series of desks and quirky inventions, “And sorry about your shirt. You looked like you were having difficulty breathing, so I had to rip it open- you can wear mine for the time being, if you don’t mind.”
Akira pushed himself off the bed and watch while the blonde busied himself in the kitchen, pulling drawers out and fumbling under the counter. Takanori didn’t seem like someone who knew how to organize well- and it took him awhile to find a suitable cup.
“Thanks for saving me.” Takanori stilled for a moment, before he drew the cup out and poured water from a jug. Akira noticed he was blushing when he returned, clearly not accustomed to appreciation. It was to his surprise that the stranger turned out to be, although physically the same, completely different from what Akira’d expected- it brought him back to what had nagged ever since their eyes met. Takanori’s eyes were not ridden with grief like they were in his dreams. The stranger now seemed like a complete different person- one who have never seen pain nor experienced sadness. Puzzling, Akira thought, but at the same time it brought him to the realization that time was running out.
He had only three days. And everything would be over.
“You’re beautiful.”
Takanori’s cheeks turned into a deeper shade of pink, his face flushed from Akira’s comment. The hazel blonde was fully aware of Takanori’s presence now, as was himself to the latter. Akira’s hand came into contact with Takanori as he handed him the cup, his skin electrifying from where they touched. His heart went wild within his ribcage, the rush of blood deafening in his ears. This is dangerous. It was do or die now- he had to get him no matter what.
“Will you be my lover?” Akira popped the question even before he could help himself. He felt no regret.
Bewildered, Takanori took a step back.
“Well… this is kind of sudden.”
“… So, will you?” Akira pressed on, carefully taking Takanori’s tiny hand in his. His palm was sweaty with embarrassment and fingers coarse from chores of the past. Akira brushed his thumb across his knuckles, feeling the soft skin move across the bone and the soft complexion underneath his own.
An amused smile darted across Takanori’s features before he pulled away.
“You’re funny,” He chuckled, “Okay then- I guess I’m fine with it. Besides, I don’t have a lover now.”
Akira could hardly believe his ears.
“Are you… serious?”
“Why not?” Akira watched as Takanori bounced away, touching the wallpaper and sweeping dust off cabinets as he made his way across the house.
“You’re… really different…”
“Come again?”
“Nah, nothing to worry about.” It was the beautiful, sad soul Akira’d fallen in love with. But if this was the stranger, then he would love him all the same.
Takanori rose an eyebrow.
“Well, are you able to walk now?”
Akira pushed the covers off himself.
“I guess so.”
“Brilliant!” Takanori gestured for Akira to follow him, “Come along. I want to show you something.”
“What is this place?” Akira shivered as he stepped out of the cold and into the warmth. The shed was a good fifty yards from the house and it seemed to take eternity for them to make their way across in the biting cold. Akira hugged Takanori’s sweater around him tighter and marveled at the sight that met his eyes.
Under the soft glow of the dim make-shift lights was one of the largest collections of inventions Akira has ever seen. Devices of all kinds plagued the shelves along the walls and chalk prints were all over the walls; even the hay on the ground was cleared away for bulky inventions, each with cloth draped over them. Takanori continued down the shed, what seemed like an endless pathway leading to invention-wonderland. Science labs… Akira decided he still hated them. It felt like he was entering Kouyou’s laboratory across the street once more. No, Akira reminded himself, they’re different- Kouyou was a physicist; but Takanori was an inventor.
He let his fingers move over the objects as he followed Takanori, spotting what seemed like a medieval version of a lawn-mower and one of the earliest coffee brewers. The drawings on the walls depicted the structures of complicated machines and random scribbles of test results. Akira wouldn’t understand shit even if he burned the prints and drank them down, but he could tell as much that walking before him in his confident strut was a science prodigy. Akira was reminded of a saying he had come across not long ago: There may be hundreds of known inventors who die young- but there are thousands of them out there who die young, and unknown. Akira pulled away from the devastating thought.
“They’re my babies- all of them,” Takanori stopped to caress one of his inventions lovingly, heaving a deep sigh, “I’ve had this collection for as long as I could remember, and every single one of them is a precious piece to my memory.”
Akira frowned.
“You live all by yourself?”
“Yep- it’s just me and my inventions. They’re all I have, I’m afraid,” Takanori gestured towards a huge device with a dark material draped over it, “And that’s the machine I found you in. You may want to take a look at it.”
Akira was eager to oblige, pulling the material off Kouyou’s invention and checking for any damages. It seemed perfectly fine except for a couple of scratches here and there- he hoped Kouyou didn’t mind. Quickly draping the piece of cloth back over it, he turned to face Takanori.
“What about your family?”
“Mum died while giving birth to me; Pops was a drunkard. You’d find him if you pay a visit to the slums, though. The bastard left me and my brother all to ourselves when I was five.”
“You don’t live with your brother?” Akira knew he was pushing it- but Takanori didn’t seem to mind.
“Nah. He took care of me until I was thirteen, and that was it. He got selected into the town’s football team and I was left to fend for myself. Doing cheap labors, occasionally stealing a bun here and there- life wasn’t too bad. At least, that was how I managed to get by until I found this secluded place by the forest. I find the isolation calming… don’t you think so?” It was a sad past, but Takanori showed no signs of grief. He was so strong- possibly something drilled into him since young. Akira felt his heart sting.
Gently, carefully, he pulled his new lover into his arms. Takanori was stiff against his body, but he did not struggle. The hazel blonde hadn’t the least idea what had gotten into him. He felt like he could see beyond. Takanori was so vulnerable- so afraid of being hurt. Akira wanted to protect him; he needed to.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why should you be?” Takanori’s voice was muffled against his chest.
“I should have taken time to know you better.” It was true that Akira realized he knew too little of Takanori; but what he had said was a blatant lie. There was no time- and he knew it. He had only less than two days with his lover, and his heart cringed in pain just at the thought of losing this person within his embrace.
“Well, there’s no worry. We’ve got time- lots of them.” Not true. Akira only tightened his hold around Takanori, seizing every opportunity to hold his lover close to him. He could feel the seconds tick by menacingly, marking the gradual approach of goodbye between him and Takanori. He wanted nothing more than to stop the time and rewrite the universe- but he couldn’t. Damn the gods.
“Hey, Akira?” Takanori pulled away, “Are you okay?”
His small hands found their way to Akira’s flushed cheeks, cradling them between his palms. Akira placed his own hand on Takanori’s, slowly bringing it down to set upon his own heart. He could feel his heartbeat even through Takanori’s hand, weeping at the sorrow, begging for his love.
“My heart hurts. It’s bleeding- can you tell?”
Takanori smiled. He asked no more, but leaned in and placed his ear against Akira’s chest.
“I can hear it. And it beats for me.” Takanori whispered his last words for the night, “Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours.”
- To be continued
A/N
1. I forgot to mention this in the previous chapters, but I do not take physics or history! All historical events mentioned in this fic are mostly, if not all, made up by me and I apologise for any possible miscalculations of the time line.
2. The phrase, “Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours”, is originally invented by Ludwig Van Beethoven in one of his letters to his lover. To those who find it familiar, it is also used in the movie, Sex And The City 2. However unoriginal it is, please remember that this phrase is important to the fic! Also, Beethoven’s born only a few decades after Takanori’s death, so let’s take that this phrase was originally invented by Takanori. (:
3. This chapter marks the start of a romantic relationship between Takanori and Akira. It will get more heartbreaking from now on, but keep in mind that there are still a couple of brighter chapters in the near future! I meant for this chapter (and the entire fic itself) to be a pure-hearted and romantic love story that takes place in old England, so yes, there will definitely be more emotional scenes like the one in the shed.