Goodbye, Tokyo
Title: Departing
Series: X/1999
Characters: Kamui and Fuuma
Genre: angst and drama
Rating: G
Comments/Warnings: Another of those things I wrote just to give Kam more fic to read.
Tohru had intended for them to leave with no warning, but leave it to the older Monou child to figure things out and ruin her plan. He had realized the night before simply from the looks Tohru and her son were tossing back and forth that they did not intend to stick around tomorrow morning. And so, he had awaked early to run over, hoping he caught them before they could leave.
And Tohru, knowing that it wouldn’t work to tell him to go home, allowed him to see Kamui for a short goodbye. She watched through the window as the two stood awkwardly before each other. Kamui was fidgeting cutely, obviously uncomfortable in being caught trying to slip away unnoticed. Fuuma looked… unsure. The two were adorable and it was not surprising to her when Fuuma suddenly launched forward and caught her son in a hug.
“I’ll always remember you, Kamui,” Fuuma said as he dropped his forehead to Kamui’s shoulder. He couldn’t quite keep his head up, though he was trying.
“I won’t forget you,” Kamui was decidedly uncomfortable. On one hand, he loved getting hugs, especially from Fuuma and Kotori. On the other, they were supposed to be big boys, now, and big boys didn’t hug like that. Boys pushed and wrestled and tackled… not hugged. Hugging was for girls and moms and boyfriend/girlfriends.
The strength of his voice surprised both of them, “I’ll never forget you.”
But Fuuma’s declaration only made Kamui more uncomfortable. His friend rarely spoke with such seriousness and intensity. The nervousness he was feeling came out as cleaning his nails, which was only a little awkward as both of his hands were up behind Fuuma’s shoulders where his wrapped arms had landed them.
Fuuma, on his part, could feel the nervousness Kamui was radiating, but couldn’t bring himself to let up. He may never see Kamui, again, how could he ignore the pressing need to keep Kamui close when he was leaving interminably? Fuuma had been realizing his extreme like of Kamui was not that of normal friendship for a bit now, and had been determined to figure out exactly what it was before he acted on it, and now, too late, he’s come to find he had a time limit. The tears fell before he realized they were there.
Kamui felt the sudden dampness on his shoulder and it took him only a second to realize what it was, “Fuuma? Fuuma, are you crying?” The older boy’s shoulders shook slightly, but there was no answer, so Kamui pushed his friend back gently to look for himself. Sure enough, there were tears in his eyes. Kamui panicked mildly, Fuuma didn’t cry! And in his rush to tentatively make it better, Kamui’s first thought was that the tears had to go, so he pulled up the hem of his shirt and stretched it to Fuuma where he went about drying his eyes with an unsure but ritualistic, “Fuuma, don’t cry…”
But Fuuma couldn’t help it. He thought he had forever to figure it out and he suddenly had only a few minutes to understand and act accordingly on what he was feeling. He was absolutely positive he was going to forget or decide wrongly something vital. Fuuma didn’t know why, but it felt as if more than he could comprehend was riding on how this played out. Knowing he needed to respond, somehow, Fuuma spoke something relatively safe, “I’ll miss you.”
It was unconscious, automatic, and in that way undoubtedly true, “I’ll miss you, too.” But Kamui knew that wasn’t all he should say. His friend was upset, obviously so, and Kamui had to make it better. Fuuma was still crying. He should make a promise… but what? Fuuma was the one who always knew what promise needed to be made to make sure the problem would fix itself or never come about again. He knew what promises he could and couldn’t keep and how the right ones could brighten the days of everyone around him. Reassure, comfort, bolster, Fuuma did it all with little promises here and there that he followed through with. But Kamui… was never good at remembering his promises and had learned the hard way that there were some he couldn’t keep. And this one had to be kept.
What could he do that wouldn’t require he be here and didn’t have a time limit?... He didn’t know if he would be able to contact them, almost sure he wouldn’t, actually, and he got the feeling they were moving far away and wouldn’t be back anytime soon…
There it was. “I’ll come back, someday, okay?”
Fuuma sniffled, wondering what Kamui was thinking. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ll make sure.” The least Kamui could do was this. He would remember them and he would come back to them, though it may not be any time soon. Kamui was sure Fuuma already understood that part. “I promise.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Fuuma was very tempted to answer, “You suck at promises.” But something in how Kamui was talking, now, told him Kamui would be hurt irreparably if he said that. Instead, Fuuma grabbed Kamui for another hug. He wouldn’t be getting any of these for a long time after today, after all.
And this time Kamui hugged back tighter than Fuuma dared squeeze, himself. This wasn’t about being a big boy, this was about him being taken away from his best friends for no one knows how long. It was okay to hug under these circumstances, Kamui decided.
Finally, Fuuma figured it was time to go. Tohru could only wait so long. He let go of Kamui and stood up straight, forcing himself to smile the best he could, “You should go, now. Your mom’ll be mad at us for taking so long.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Fuuma,” Kamui did indeed look genuinely sorry for this whole mess, “I’ll see you.”
“See ya.”
Kamui took a full step back, as if to finalize that their time was up, “Bye!”
There was no other response, “Bye.” And his best friend turned to run inside, where his mother was probably done packing and ready to rush him right back out to the car. But Fuuma wasn’t sure he was done, something in him said he wasn’t, but what to say? He almost went on instinct.
Calling out to his departing friend, “Kamui? I-“
I love you!
But his mind reasoned that was too much, and Kamui wouldn’t fully understand what he meant or in what way, anyway.
“I’m keeping you to your promise!”
This was better, because Kamui turned around and smiled brightly. A bright smile was better than the confusion followed by unsure happiness and embarrassed smile he would have gotten with the other statement. And Kamui understood this one.
“Good, because I’m gonna keep it, too!”
And with that he ran inside. Fuuma turned and made his way back to the shrine. He didn’t want to be there when they drove away in the car. It would be too much of a finalization. He would have that memory stuck in his mind over the bright smile and Fuuma didn’t want that, at all. He wanted to remember this happy Kamui, not the pain he feels at watching him go.
Remember Kamui.
Remember.
He would.
Series: X/1999
Characters: Kamui and Fuuma
Genre: angst and drama
Rating: G
Comments/Warnings: Another of those things I wrote just to give Kam more fic to read.
Tohru had intended for them to leave with no warning, but leave it to the older Monou child to figure things out and ruin her plan. He had realized the night before simply from the looks Tohru and her son were tossing back and forth that they did not intend to stick around tomorrow morning. And so, he had awaked early to run over, hoping he caught them before they could leave.
And Tohru, knowing that it wouldn’t work to tell him to go home, allowed him to see Kamui for a short goodbye. She watched through the window as the two stood awkwardly before each other. Kamui was fidgeting cutely, obviously uncomfortable in being caught trying to slip away unnoticed. Fuuma looked… unsure. The two were adorable and it was not surprising to her when Fuuma suddenly launched forward and caught her son in a hug.
“I’ll always remember you, Kamui,” Fuuma said as he dropped his forehead to Kamui’s shoulder. He couldn’t quite keep his head up, though he was trying.
“I won’t forget you,” Kamui was decidedly uncomfortable. On one hand, he loved getting hugs, especially from Fuuma and Kotori. On the other, they were supposed to be big boys, now, and big boys didn’t hug like that. Boys pushed and wrestled and tackled… not hugged. Hugging was for girls and moms and boyfriend/girlfriends.
The strength of his voice surprised both of them, “I’ll never forget you.”
But Fuuma’s declaration only made Kamui more uncomfortable. His friend rarely spoke with such seriousness and intensity. The nervousness he was feeling came out as cleaning his nails, which was only a little awkward as both of his hands were up behind Fuuma’s shoulders where his wrapped arms had landed them.
Fuuma, on his part, could feel the nervousness Kamui was radiating, but couldn’t bring himself to let up. He may never see Kamui, again, how could he ignore the pressing need to keep Kamui close when he was leaving interminably? Fuuma had been realizing his extreme like of Kamui was not that of normal friendship for a bit now, and had been determined to figure out exactly what it was before he acted on it, and now, too late, he’s come to find he had a time limit. The tears fell before he realized they were there.
Kamui felt the sudden dampness on his shoulder and it took him only a second to realize what it was, “Fuuma? Fuuma, are you crying?” The older boy’s shoulders shook slightly, but there was no answer, so Kamui pushed his friend back gently to look for himself. Sure enough, there were tears in his eyes. Kamui panicked mildly, Fuuma didn’t cry! And in his rush to tentatively make it better, Kamui’s first thought was that the tears had to go, so he pulled up the hem of his shirt and stretched it to Fuuma where he went about drying his eyes with an unsure but ritualistic, “Fuuma, don’t cry…”
But Fuuma couldn’t help it. He thought he had forever to figure it out and he suddenly had only a few minutes to understand and act accordingly on what he was feeling. He was absolutely positive he was going to forget or decide wrongly something vital. Fuuma didn’t know why, but it felt as if more than he could comprehend was riding on how this played out. Knowing he needed to respond, somehow, Fuuma spoke something relatively safe, “I’ll miss you.”
It was unconscious, automatic, and in that way undoubtedly true, “I’ll miss you, too.” But Kamui knew that wasn’t all he should say. His friend was upset, obviously so, and Kamui had to make it better. Fuuma was still crying. He should make a promise… but what? Fuuma was the one who always knew what promise needed to be made to make sure the problem would fix itself or never come about again. He knew what promises he could and couldn’t keep and how the right ones could brighten the days of everyone around him. Reassure, comfort, bolster, Fuuma did it all with little promises here and there that he followed through with. But Kamui… was never good at remembering his promises and had learned the hard way that there were some he couldn’t keep. And this one had to be kept.
What could he do that wouldn’t require he be here and didn’t have a time limit?... He didn’t know if he would be able to contact them, almost sure he wouldn’t, actually, and he got the feeling they were moving far away and wouldn’t be back anytime soon…
There it was. “I’ll come back, someday, okay?”
Fuuma sniffled, wondering what Kamui was thinking. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ll make sure.” The least Kamui could do was this. He would remember them and he would come back to them, though it may not be any time soon. Kamui was sure Fuuma already understood that part. “I promise.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Fuuma was very tempted to answer, “You suck at promises.” But something in how Kamui was talking, now, told him Kamui would be hurt irreparably if he said that. Instead, Fuuma grabbed Kamui for another hug. He wouldn’t be getting any of these for a long time after today, after all.
And this time Kamui hugged back tighter than Fuuma dared squeeze, himself. This wasn’t about being a big boy, this was about him being taken away from his best friends for no one knows how long. It was okay to hug under these circumstances, Kamui decided.
Finally, Fuuma figured it was time to go. Tohru could only wait so long. He let go of Kamui and stood up straight, forcing himself to smile the best he could, “You should go, now. Your mom’ll be mad at us for taking so long.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Fuuma,” Kamui did indeed look genuinely sorry for this whole mess, “I’ll see you.”
“See ya.”
Kamui took a full step back, as if to finalize that their time was up, “Bye!”
There was no other response, “Bye.” And his best friend turned to run inside, where his mother was probably done packing and ready to rush him right back out to the car. But Fuuma wasn’t sure he was done, something in him said he wasn’t, but what to say? He almost went on instinct.
Calling out to his departing friend, “Kamui? I-“
I love you!
But his mind reasoned that was too much, and Kamui wouldn’t fully understand what he meant or in what way, anyway.
“I’m keeping you to your promise!”
This was better, because Kamui turned around and smiled brightly. A bright smile was better than the confusion followed by unsure happiness and embarrassed smile he would have gotten with the other statement. And Kamui understood this one.
“Good, because I’m gonna keep it, too!”
And with that he ran inside. Fuuma turned and made his way back to the shrine. He didn’t want to be there when they drove away in the car. It would be too much of a finalization. He would have that memory stuck in his mind over the bright smile and Fuuma didn’t want that, at all. He wanted to remember this happy Kamui, not the pain he feels at watching him go.
Remember Kamui.
Remember.
He would.