[KRW;flashfic] goodbye (and hello)
Terui Ryuu, Phillip
Middling episode 47.
goodbye
It is past two, and he can't sleep. Sleeplessness is not a foreign thing to him, bad dreams tended to keep him awake anyway, and he often puts his waking hours to good use. It doesn't help now though, not at this important time, and where on normal days he looks forward to the sun, tonight Ryuu dreads the dawn.
Ryuu wonders if he should have reacted in the same way Hidari did. Deep inside, there's a tiny part of him from the past that railed against the unfairness of Phillip dying. He had not known the boy for very long, just six months, really, but he had been drawn immediately to Phillip, like moth to irrestible flame. Phillip's initial disarming forthrightness, so reminiscent of (his sister) a child, called to him.
He wanted to protect Phillip.
And yet, there's a larger part of him that respected how much Phillip had grown, to learn how to make the right decisions in the face of death.
Which is why he backed off, bought the presents, and threw the party.
He doesn't regret it, even though he kind of wants to punch Hidari's sulky face in when the detective turned up at last and nearly spoiled everything. Ryuu just wishes that the party wasn't a lie, that Phillip really was going away to study, to learn more about the world that fascinates him so much. He knows he'll miss the smell of markers and the frenzied squeak of ink on whiteboard, things that are so quintessantially Phillip.
Ryuu cradles the cup Phillip had given him in his hands, fingers seeking the long-lost warmth of coffee, and studies the slow whirr of the Fuuto tower in the distance.
"Terui Ryuu."
His name startles him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see Phillip, wrapped in Hidari's jacket, step out towards him. The boy looks tired, and yet more at peace than he's been in the past few days. Ryuu scoots sideways on the bench to give him space, and Phillip sits down with a thump, stretching his long legs out with a pleased, catlike sigh. "We talked," Phillip says, faintly smiling, and Ryuu knows exactly what he means.
It's always been that way, with them. He knows he'll miss that too.
"It's about time Hidari took his head out of the sand," Ryuu says derisively, and earns an annoyed swat from Phillip. A smile bubbles up from within, and he is powerless to stop it. He realizes he doesn't want to stop it either, because this will be a good memory. Ryuu smiles and lifts his cup and says, "Thanks for the present."
Phillip ducks his head, almost embarassed. The hairclips click and sway with the movement, and Ryuu is mesmerized. He can't help but reach out and touch them, an unconscious movement that Phillip simply watches, curious and unmoving, and it's ridiculous, but Ryuu wants this moment to last forever.
It doesn't. Phillip shifts and says, "Thank you, Terui Ryuu. For everything."
Ryuu blinks, and says, honestly, "That sounds weird, coming from you." Phillip's eyes widen comically as though in surprise, as if no one's ever told him that before, and Ryuu thinks that perhaps it's true. He smiles again, and reaches down to adjust the jacket, pulling it up against Phillip's chin.
Phillip tilts his head slightly, expression suddenly thoughtful. "Then I suppose this is weird too." And he reaches over, arms opened awkwardly, and envelops Ryuu in a hug. "Aki-chan taught me this," Phillip says, somehow sounding a mixture of pride and pleasure (both, Ryuu thinks, a result of applying something he learned). "She says it's the best way to say goodbye."
Something swells in Ryuu's heart, and he can't lie. He knows exactly what this feeling is. He remembers feeling it every single time his parents smile at him, every time his sister laughs, in every hug and every family photo.
I love you.
It's not a confession of romantic love. It's a mix of all sorts of love, familial and friend and protector and perhaps, being a little in love too. He'll never be able to put it in the proper words, because Ryuu knows he's awful with them, and besides, he'll never say it out loud. And it's foolish to think that it'll be a protective mantra, because Ryuu doesn't believe in things like that. But as Phillip tightens his arms almost painfully, he does the same, scooting close for warmth. The damn hairclips dig in something fierce in his cheek. And Ryuu recites those three words in his head anyway, for all the times he's never said, for all the times he's missed.
I love you.
In the end, the dawn still comes.
------------------------------------------
(and in the post-series omake where everybody lives, damn it)
(and hello)
The Sonozakis are still in the news, although now the city celebrates the return of their beloved Healing Princess. Ryuu reads the gushing columns with the intention of occupying his mind, aside from the frequent bandage changes and the daily five-minute visit (cheeky heckling, more like) from Jin-san and Makura, he is really quite bored.
There is nothing interesting on the news either, and Ryuu resigns himself to another afternoon of absolute boredom when his door slides open. Akiko strides in with a bouquet of flowers and a basket of fruit, and Ryuu is pleasantly surprised. She had been busy lately, trying to reinvent the agency.
"I have a surprise for you," she sings, and Ryuu can't help but smile, grateful for someone to break up the monotony of his hospital stay. Akiko motions to someone outside the door, and Ryuu cranes his neck in curiosity.
A boy steps in with a parka drawn low over his head, and Hidari trails behind him, his fedora set at a cocky jaunt. Ryuu's heart stops.
Phillip pulls the hood back, and walks forward, arms awkwardly held open. "Aki-chan also says that hugs is the best way to say hello," he announces over Hidari's grumbling.
He feels like he's being set on fire all over once more, because Phillip is still clumsy at this, and the stupid hairclips are digging into his cheek.
"So, hello again, Terui Ryuu," Phillip says, and Ryuu says hello back.
Middling episode 47.
goodbye
It is past two, and he can't sleep. Sleeplessness is not a foreign thing to him, bad dreams tended to keep him awake anyway, and he often puts his waking hours to good use. It doesn't help now though, not at this important time, and where on normal days he looks forward to the sun, tonight Ryuu dreads the dawn.
Ryuu wonders if he should have reacted in the same way Hidari did. Deep inside, there's a tiny part of him from the past that railed against the unfairness of Phillip dying. He had not known the boy for very long, just six months, really, but he had been drawn immediately to Phillip, like moth to irrestible flame. Phillip's initial disarming forthrightness, so reminiscent of (his sister) a child, called to him.
He wanted to protect Phillip.
And yet, there's a larger part of him that respected how much Phillip had grown, to learn how to make the right decisions in the face of death.
Which is why he backed off, bought the presents, and threw the party.
He doesn't regret it, even though he kind of wants to punch Hidari's sulky face in when the detective turned up at last and nearly spoiled everything. Ryuu just wishes that the party wasn't a lie, that Phillip really was going away to study, to learn more about the world that fascinates him so much. He knows he'll miss the smell of markers and the frenzied squeak of ink on whiteboard, things that are so quintessantially Phillip.
Ryuu cradles the cup Phillip had given him in his hands, fingers seeking the long-lost warmth of coffee, and studies the slow whirr of the Fuuto tower in the distance.
"Terui Ryuu."
His name startles him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see Phillip, wrapped in Hidari's jacket, step out towards him. The boy looks tired, and yet more at peace than he's been in the past few days. Ryuu scoots sideways on the bench to give him space, and Phillip sits down with a thump, stretching his long legs out with a pleased, catlike sigh. "We talked," Phillip says, faintly smiling, and Ryuu knows exactly what he means.
It's always been that way, with them. He knows he'll miss that too.
"It's about time Hidari took his head out of the sand," Ryuu says derisively, and earns an annoyed swat from Phillip. A smile bubbles up from within, and he is powerless to stop it. He realizes he doesn't want to stop it either, because this will be a good memory. Ryuu smiles and lifts his cup and says, "Thanks for the present."
Phillip ducks his head, almost embarassed. The hairclips click and sway with the movement, and Ryuu is mesmerized. He can't help but reach out and touch them, an unconscious movement that Phillip simply watches, curious and unmoving, and it's ridiculous, but Ryuu wants this moment to last forever.
It doesn't. Phillip shifts and says, "Thank you, Terui Ryuu. For everything."
Ryuu blinks, and says, honestly, "That sounds weird, coming from you." Phillip's eyes widen comically as though in surprise, as if no one's ever told him that before, and Ryuu thinks that perhaps it's true. He smiles again, and reaches down to adjust the jacket, pulling it up against Phillip's chin.
Phillip tilts his head slightly, expression suddenly thoughtful. "Then I suppose this is weird too." And he reaches over, arms opened awkwardly, and envelops Ryuu in a hug. "Aki-chan taught me this," Phillip says, somehow sounding a mixture of pride and pleasure (both, Ryuu thinks, a result of applying something he learned). "She says it's the best way to say goodbye."
Something swells in Ryuu's heart, and he can't lie. He knows exactly what this feeling is. He remembers feeling it every single time his parents smile at him, every time his sister laughs, in every hug and every family photo.
I love you.
It's not a confession of romantic love. It's a mix of all sorts of love, familial and friend and protector and perhaps, being a little in love too. He'll never be able to put it in the proper words, because Ryuu knows he's awful with them, and besides, he'll never say it out loud. And it's foolish to think that it'll be a protective mantra, because Ryuu doesn't believe in things like that. But as Phillip tightens his arms almost painfully, he does the same, scooting close for warmth. The damn hairclips dig in something fierce in his cheek. And Ryuu recites those three words in his head anyway, for all the times he's never said, for all the times he's missed.
I love you.
In the end, the dawn still comes.
------------------------------------------
(and in the post-series omake where everybody lives, damn it)
(and hello)
The Sonozakis are still in the news, although now the city celebrates the return of their beloved Healing Princess. Ryuu reads the gushing columns with the intention of occupying his mind, aside from the frequent bandage changes and the daily five-minute visit (cheeky heckling, more like) from Jin-san and Makura, he is really quite bored.
There is nothing interesting on the news either, and Ryuu resigns himself to another afternoon of absolute boredom when his door slides open. Akiko strides in with a bouquet of flowers and a basket of fruit, and Ryuu is pleasantly surprised. She had been busy lately, trying to reinvent the agency.
"I have a surprise for you," she sings, and Ryuu can't help but smile, grateful for someone to break up the monotony of his hospital stay. Akiko motions to someone outside the door, and Ryuu cranes his neck in curiosity.
A boy steps in with a parka drawn low over his head, and Hidari trails behind him, his fedora set at a cocky jaunt. Ryuu's heart stops.
Phillip pulls the hood back, and walks forward, arms awkwardly held open. "Aki-chan also says that hugs is the best way to say hello," he announces over Hidari's grumbling.
He feels like he's being set on fire all over once more, because Phillip is still clumsy at this, and the stupid hairclips are digging into his cheek.
"So, hello again, Terui Ryuu," Phillip says, and Ryuu says hello back.