for demeter918: seventh (and final) request fic "Out of Sight"
(With apologies for vagueness.) The two pages Shadow translated for me made me happy on several levels--there're the obvious reasons, but I'm also amused because Haru's random line about Rin connects back to a throwaway reference that occurred to me for the AU I'm sporadically working on. I'm not sure if it sort-of-matching-canon would make it more or less ideal for inclusion, if the scene turns out to actually have room for it.
***
On to more concrete things: filling demeter918's request, which was for gen Haru and Akito fic. Spoilers through chapter 106 (vague spoiler in the actual request, so it's under the cut). Thanks to Flamika for taking a quick look to make sure the story's coherent. ^_^ It turned out to be . . . I don't know, exactly, but not what I was expecting it to be. Some aspects may be revisited at some point.
(Not that posting fic on the evening of a new chapter makes any sense, but whatever. ^^)
(Original request: I would really like an Akito and Haru fic? Gen, please, as since I get plenty of romance as it is. ^^;; Any situation, from meeting for the first time since he defied her to a moment when they were young and playing with paper cranes. Good stuff.)
**********
"Out of Sight"
Akito's scream cuts through to Haru's bones, familiar voice gone shrill and unrecognizable with desperation. His name wrapped in that voice, and more--every wobbling note hits a different corner of his soul as his god cries out for him. Akito, who knows him more deeply and perfectly than any human should ever know another, who doesn't know him at all. The bond aches and creaks between them, razor-bright and tangible, full of memories, and the screaming goes deeper than his ears: the pain floods his mouth like blood after a blow, thick and wrong but undeniably part of him.
He stops walking without noticing, traitorous feet almost tripping over themselves with conflicting desires. The cry goes on and on, drowning out the whisper of Rin's pain. She's never been one to give full voice to her suffering, and suppressed tears and forced smiles disappear under the shuddering weight of Akito's uncomprehending anguish. He tries to hold onto her name and the dying thread of her voice, but the unnatural power of the bond sits in judgment in his heart, balancing his lover and his god, making its choice without him.
Kureno's voice hits him like cold water, so foreign to the war inside that it takes him a moment to translate individual syllables into words. Go. Rin's name is a lost sound in the older man's mouth, homeless and misplaced. Isuzu wants to see you.
It jars him loose--not a clean escape, but enough that he can breathe through the crushing weight of Akito's pleas. Enough that he can see the pity on Kureno's face, and the reassurance; Kureno says Rin's name again, but what restores Haru's ability to move is the silent promise in Kureno's eyes that their god won't be left alone.
The knowledge of his hesitation haunts him as he flees, another layer of guilt that follows him as closely as the bond itself.
***
Akito doesn't call for Haru in the weeks that follow. Spring is in full bloom outside her window, with its slowly-warming days and spreading green, but she ignores it. When a maid comments in Akito's hearing that spring is her favorite season, Akito has her dismissed for speaking Haru's name in her presence. An irrational move, but no more so than the pain in her chest that vibrates and twists when she thinks of him.
There are a few moments when she almost prays for their thread of the bond to break, if only to erase her faint hope that he might come if she called. In her sleep she dreams of touching him, of reassuring herself that their shared blood still moves through his body. But she also has the misty dreams that the bond sometimes slips into her mind, the soft voices of her Jyuunishi as they live their lives like detached parts of her soul; through them, she knows that Haru is with Isuzu, contaminating himself in her body.
She dreams once--only once, but it haunts her--of taking his sight, her price for Isuzu's bitter freedom. She needs neither tools nor violence; a light touch of her hands on his face is all it takes to bring his blood to the surface. It slicks his face like tears, running between her fingers, and although he makes no sound of protest she knows that the sockets behind his closed eyelids are empty.
***
Half a mile away, Haru wakes from a dream of blindness and is unable to sleep again. He stares at the ceiling until sunrise, wishing he were in Rin's bed instead of his own, unable to shake the ghost of a darkness deeper than any he had ever imagined before.
***
Toward the end of June their paths cross in a back garden, and for several minutes silence hangs between them. The bitter hunger in Akito's eyes sends a sick twist through Haru's guts, severe enough that he wonders if he can keep from from being ill, and whether the gardeners would notice.
He speaks only when Akito moves toward him. "Don't touch me." It takes effort to keep his voice steady--effort, and the memory of Rin's arms twined around his neck as he bent to kiss her goodbye before getting up for school.
Akito hesitates, looking past him. "Then don't block the path."
Haru steps aside to allow his god to pass, unable to keep from savoring the way the bond flickers between them at such close proximity, and almost misses the words that follow. "What?"
"I said, happy birthday." Akito's voice spikes with irritation, and it might almost be an ordinary conversation. "I doubt we'll see each other before next week."
"I didn't think you remembered things like that," Haru says quietly, and Akito pauses behind him.
"I remember the moment you were conceived, Hatsuharu. After that, I'm not likely to forget when you were born."
Akito continues walking without another word, and Haru is left alone in the garden, blinded by tears.
[fin]
***
On to more concrete things: filling demeter918's request, which was for gen Haru and Akito fic. Spoilers through chapter 106 (vague spoiler in the actual request, so it's under the cut). Thanks to Flamika for taking a quick look to make sure the story's coherent. ^_^ It turned out to be . . . I don't know, exactly, but not what I was expecting it to be. Some aspects may be revisited at some point.
(Not that posting fic on the evening of a new chapter makes any sense, but whatever. ^^)
(Original request: I would really like an Akito and Haru fic? Gen, please, as since I get plenty of romance as it is. ^^;; Any situation, from meeting for the first time since he defied her to a moment when they were young and playing with paper cranes. Good stuff.)
**********
"Out of Sight"
Akito's scream cuts through to Haru's bones, familiar voice gone shrill and unrecognizable with desperation. His name wrapped in that voice, and more--every wobbling note hits a different corner of his soul as his god cries out for him. Akito, who knows him more deeply and perfectly than any human should ever know another, who doesn't know him at all. The bond aches and creaks between them, razor-bright and tangible, full of memories, and the screaming goes deeper than his ears: the pain floods his mouth like blood after a blow, thick and wrong but undeniably part of him.
He stops walking without noticing, traitorous feet almost tripping over themselves with conflicting desires. The cry goes on and on, drowning out the whisper of Rin's pain. She's never been one to give full voice to her suffering, and suppressed tears and forced smiles disappear under the shuddering weight of Akito's uncomprehending anguish. He tries to hold onto her name and the dying thread of her voice, but the unnatural power of the bond sits in judgment in his heart, balancing his lover and his god, making its choice without him.
Kureno's voice hits him like cold water, so foreign to the war inside that it takes him a moment to translate individual syllables into words. Go. Rin's name is a lost sound in the older man's mouth, homeless and misplaced. Isuzu wants to see you.
It jars him loose--not a clean escape, but enough that he can breathe through the crushing weight of Akito's pleas. Enough that he can see the pity on Kureno's face, and the reassurance; Kureno says Rin's name again, but what restores Haru's ability to move is the silent promise in Kureno's eyes that their god won't be left alone.
The knowledge of his hesitation haunts him as he flees, another layer of guilt that follows him as closely as the bond itself.
***
Akito doesn't call for Haru in the weeks that follow. Spring is in full bloom outside her window, with its slowly-warming days and spreading green, but she ignores it. When a maid comments in Akito's hearing that spring is her favorite season, Akito has her dismissed for speaking Haru's name in her presence. An irrational move, but no more so than the pain in her chest that vibrates and twists when she thinks of him.
There are a few moments when she almost prays for their thread of the bond to break, if only to erase her faint hope that he might come if she called. In her sleep she dreams of touching him, of reassuring herself that their shared blood still moves through his body. But she also has the misty dreams that the bond sometimes slips into her mind, the soft voices of her Jyuunishi as they live their lives like detached parts of her soul; through them, she knows that Haru is with Isuzu, contaminating himself in her body.
She dreams once--only once, but it haunts her--of taking his sight, her price for Isuzu's bitter freedom. She needs neither tools nor violence; a light touch of her hands on his face is all it takes to bring his blood to the surface. It slicks his face like tears, running between her fingers, and although he makes no sound of protest she knows that the sockets behind his closed eyelids are empty.
***
Half a mile away, Haru wakes from a dream of blindness and is unable to sleep again. He stares at the ceiling until sunrise, wishing he were in Rin's bed instead of his own, unable to shake the ghost of a darkness deeper than any he had ever imagined before.
***
Toward the end of June their paths cross in a back garden, and for several minutes silence hangs between them. The bitter hunger in Akito's eyes sends a sick twist through Haru's guts, severe enough that he wonders if he can keep from from being ill, and whether the gardeners would notice.
He speaks only when Akito moves toward him. "Don't touch me." It takes effort to keep his voice steady--effort, and the memory of Rin's arms twined around his neck as he bent to kiss her goodbye before getting up for school.
Akito hesitates, looking past him. "Then don't block the path."
Haru steps aside to allow his god to pass, unable to keep from savoring the way the bond flickers between them at such close proximity, and almost misses the words that follow. "What?"
"I said, happy birthday." Akito's voice spikes with irritation, and it might almost be an ordinary conversation. "I doubt we'll see each other before next week."
"I didn't think you remembered things like that," Haru says quietly, and Akito pauses behind him.
"I remember the moment you were conceived, Hatsuharu. After that, I'm not likely to forget when you were born."
Akito continues walking without another word, and Haru is left alone in the garden, blinded by tears.
[fin]