Here be some lame Kabuto fic what I dun wrote a few weeks ago on 750words. Not the smutty one, because that one quite definitely needs to be gutted and reworked like hell before it's palatable. Anyway. It's not the best, but...
Title: White Night
Fandom: Kamen Rider Kabuto
Characters: The Emo Twins Yaguruma and Kageyama (sort of)
Spoilers: Last ep? Probably. Somewhere around there.
Summary: Yaguruma takes Kageyama to see the white night.
The day after the funeral, Yaguruma goes to that beach with the white night. He stomps through the sand with his heavy, spurred goth boots, soaking in the salt air and the moonlight, the weight of a black, marble urn in the crook of his arm. Kageyama’s father and older brother had died when the meteor hit Shibuya seven years ago and his mother had sent him off to military school and disappeared without a word soon after, so he doesn't have any family besides him. His funeral was fitting for a loser like them. Only Yaguruma stood by as the priest said words of comfort, only Yaguruma held his head low as he was presented with his ashes.
Nobody had realised his partner was gone, but that's alright. The path to hell is a lonely one. They were lucky to have even found each other.
He picks a good spot along the shore and sits down in the damp sand, digs a little pit beside him and settles the urn in it. The waves crash along the shore, bright white even at midnight, white noise to drown out the screams of the damned.
"Even Hell has its beauties," he says as he watches the sea. "Eh, Aibou?"
If he closes his eyes just so, he can imagine the weight of Kageyama's head against his bare shoulder, snuggling up to him with an innocence the damned should not possess. He can feel Kageyama's last breath against his skin.
He opens his eyes and picks up the urn, scoops out a handful of ashes and smiles. "Shall we stay here, forever, partner?"
The wind picks up and carries some of Kageyama's ashes out to sea. The waves crash to shore, washing them back over his feet. Yaguruma lies back on the sand, cradling the urn to his side, ignoring the rising tide as it washes over him.