Challenge: Achy // White Lies [Soubi/Ritsuka]
Title: White Lies
Author: Rhea Logan (yutaka)
Rating: PG
Characters: Soubi/Ritsuka
Wordcount: 250
Note: Somewhat inspired by the scene between Soubi and Ritsuka from the August/05 chapter; the drabble itself, however, contains no spoilers.
Half a truth is still a lie, but Soubi understands the merit of knowing when to bite his tongue. His careful choice of words reduces this excruciating pain to a mere ache; bothersome, but bearable. Ritsuka understands pain - his mother takes care of that - but what he does not understand is its significance. Not yet, anyway; he is too young for that.
Soubi scars easily, yet this time, his flesh bears no marks to let him forget the anguish that slowly drives him insane. Physical wounds heal. The memory of them fades. But, while they last, the sensations they give are his balance between right and wrong. A link of comprehension between the world and himself.
But a soul that aches is a sign of weakness, and Soubi does not know how to fight that pain. Perhaps that's why he starts a little - inside, never outside - under his master's inquisitive stare. Ritsuka begins to see the subtle hints of that other kind of pain, but he does not know why and, word by word, he builds his question around the leaden silence.
“I am just tired,” Soubi says without thinking, and he knows this half-truth is, in fact, a blessing of a lie. His heart is one that should not ache like this.
Perhaps, he thinks, this is why he hates it so much. It should not be fought. It should be accepted, yet it's the one thing Soubi cannot do. It is an alien pain, one he cannot befriend.
Author: Rhea Logan (yutaka)
Rating: PG
Characters: Soubi/Ritsuka
Wordcount: 250
Note: Somewhat inspired by the scene between Soubi and Ritsuka from the August/05 chapter; the drabble itself, however, contains no spoilers.
Half a truth is still a lie, but Soubi understands the merit of knowing when to bite his tongue. His careful choice of words reduces this excruciating pain to a mere ache; bothersome, but bearable. Ritsuka understands pain - his mother takes care of that - but what he does not understand is its significance. Not yet, anyway; he is too young for that.
Soubi scars easily, yet this time, his flesh bears no marks to let him forget the anguish that slowly drives him insane. Physical wounds heal. The memory of them fades. But, while they last, the sensations they give are his balance between right and wrong. A link of comprehension between the world and himself.
But a soul that aches is a sign of weakness, and Soubi does not know how to fight that pain. Perhaps that's why he starts a little - inside, never outside - under his master's inquisitive stare. Ritsuka begins to see the subtle hints of that other kind of pain, but he does not know why and, word by word, he builds his question around the leaden silence.
“I am just tired,” Soubi says without thinking, and he knows this half-truth is, in fact, a blessing of a lie. His heart is one that should not ache like this.
Perhaps, he thinks, this is why he hates it so much. It should not be fought. It should be accepted, yet it's the one thing Soubi cannot do. It is an alien pain, one he cannot befriend.