The Last Race - X-Japan - Short Story
Title: The Last Race
Who: X
Pairing: hide x Yoshiki (as friends)
Rating: G
Summary: The racehorse who ran merely to run, and the tired jockey, that had seen it all before but was still hoping that maybe this horse would get him to success.
Warning/Comments: Deals with the sad events of X-Japan disbanding, and hide's death. This is pre-X reuniting. I'm really proud of this, and I hope everyone enjoys it! Cross-posted to different fic communities.
1991, Tokyo Dome
I appreciated god in the morning you were born, then god blessed us at the seaside.
We went for the 3rd time.
Two souls stood at the edge of a wide, long sea. The tide carried on lapping at them, even as they stood still, riveted to the spot at the thought of what may come.
One was a newcomer-- a lucky one, but a wary, tired one as well. He was riddled with problems-- a lack of drive towards the future, a lack of a past he could look back at, and a lack of being able to escape his thoughts.
The other... was very unlucky, but very determined. An escape artist, he used his passion to run to the future, run from his past, and run so hurried through the moment of now, that now could never be processed.
The racehorse who ran merely to run, and the tired jockey, that had seen it all before but was still hoping that maybe this horse would get him to success. Together they looked out at the beautiful sea, both fearing and anticipating their future. Lights of all colors bounced from it's surface, waves of excitement rippling.
Together they turned from the loud roar of the sea with a faint smile on their aching lips.
1997, 22 September
In the 10th summer, I hated filthy and dark blood you smeared on me.
Slander. Speculation. Scandal?
Four figures at one table-- silence as quiet as death. Justified silence. There were no words to be said, other than those of grim news that was vicious and biting.
A death in the family; one could call it murder, or suicide. Some called it both.
A race horse had grown tired, it's muscles creaked as it moved from the table to disappear from the public eye it was so used to.
The jockey also disappeared, silent, blankly following his horse, letting it lead him this one time.
They shared a moment of grieving, of bitter, angry grieving. The most beautiful, functional family had died.
No words were shared. No tears were shed any longer, no lingering thoughts of the past.
With stone bodies, they focused on finding a fifth statue to fill in the empty spot in their array.
2001, 25 September
In the 14th summer, you knew it from the beginning, didn't you?
Like i had imagined in the 3rd summer, I broke you...
The horse was tied down, reins tightly pulling it's face into an artificial look that had been slowly completing itself over the years. It's neck, once thick and sturdy, was now clenched tight, ground weak in barely controlled emotion.
The legs that once carried it with pride had given in, the jockey that once so happily and faithfully stood by it had left, had abandoned it -- had used it, then broken it. It was retired to the rich and glossy stables of fame now.
As if merely an object to show off, the horse stood still. A camera, recording, came close to it, catching it's stone face with perfection. It could remember the swooning cries that it's fans made when it gave these looks before-- only, back then, they had a bit of soul in them. They had a bit of spunk, of that extra spice. Now, they were bland.
The horse was broken. It had a slight limp when it walked, a broken back, a broken neck. However, it refused to become a statue in history. It would continue on, limping, sadly wishing it's jockey was still around to lead it.
But ever the stubborn horse, it never lingered on that thought too long.
Who: X
Pairing: hide x Yoshiki (as friends)
Rating: G
Summary: The racehorse who ran merely to run, and the tired jockey, that had seen it all before but was still hoping that maybe this horse would get him to success.
Warning/Comments: Deals with the sad events of X-Japan disbanding, and hide's death. This is pre-X reuniting. I'm really proud of this, and I hope everyone enjoys it! Cross-posted to different fic communities.
1991, Tokyo Dome
I appreciated god in the morning you were born, then god blessed us at the seaside.
We went for the 3rd time.
Two souls stood at the edge of a wide, long sea. The tide carried on lapping at them, even as they stood still, riveted to the spot at the thought of what may come.
One was a newcomer-- a lucky one, but a wary, tired one as well. He was riddled with problems-- a lack of drive towards the future, a lack of a past he could look back at, and a lack of being able to escape his thoughts.
The other... was very unlucky, but very determined. An escape artist, he used his passion to run to the future, run from his past, and run so hurried through the moment of now, that now could never be processed.
The racehorse who ran merely to run, and the tired jockey, that had seen it all before but was still hoping that maybe this horse would get him to success. Together they looked out at the beautiful sea, both fearing and anticipating their future. Lights of all colors bounced from it's surface, waves of excitement rippling.
Together they turned from the loud roar of the sea with a faint smile on their aching lips.
1997, 22 September
In the 10th summer, I hated filthy and dark blood you smeared on me.
Slander. Speculation. Scandal?
Four figures at one table-- silence as quiet as death. Justified silence. There were no words to be said, other than those of grim news that was vicious and biting.
A death in the family; one could call it murder, or suicide. Some called it both.
A race horse had grown tired, it's muscles creaked as it moved from the table to disappear from the public eye it was so used to.
The jockey also disappeared, silent, blankly following his horse, letting it lead him this one time.
They shared a moment of grieving, of bitter, angry grieving. The most beautiful, functional family had died.
No words were shared. No tears were shed any longer, no lingering thoughts of the past.
With stone bodies, they focused on finding a fifth statue to fill in the empty spot in their array.
2001, 25 September
In the 14th summer, you knew it from the beginning, didn't you?
Like i had imagined in the 3rd summer, I broke you...
The horse was tied down, reins tightly pulling it's face into an artificial look that had been slowly completing itself over the years. It's neck, once thick and sturdy, was now clenched tight, ground weak in barely controlled emotion.
The legs that once carried it with pride had given in, the jockey that once so happily and faithfully stood by it had left, had abandoned it -- had used it, then broken it. It was retired to the rich and glossy stables of fame now.
As if merely an object to show off, the horse stood still. A camera, recording, came close to it, catching it's stone face with perfection. It could remember the swooning cries that it's fans made when it gave these looks before-- only, back then, they had a bit of soul in them. They had a bit of spunk, of that extra spice. Now, they were bland.
The horse was broken. It had a slight limp when it walked, a broken back, a broken neck. However, it refused to become a statue in history. It would continue on, limping, sadly wishing it's jockey was still around to lead it.
But ever the stubborn horse, it never lingered on that thought too long.