they will see us waving from such great heights come down now they'll say
my december 11 : such great heights
Daisuke picked up one of the sheets of paper. Under the black ink disfacing it, the drawing was surprisingly good. He was stretching, arms behind his head, with his hair blowing in the wind and a bright, quiet smile on his face.
Was this how Hiwatari-kun saw him?
Even though he was surrounded by Hiwatari-kun's work, he was nowhere to be found. Daisuke had a horrible feeling that Hiwatari-kun was more lost than he was. But how to find him?
'I know you,' said a thin voice. 'You. Niwa. Artist. Niwa. Strange.'
Daisuke turned around very slowly. A faded thing hovered in front of him -- many faded things, he realized, a chill going down his spine.
'Give us life,' they whispered. 'Set us free.'
"I can't," he said. "I can't, I'm sorry."
'Please,' they hissed. 'Please.' Their transparent hands reached for him and he backed up. They were spirits, he realized, spirits that could only leave this place by being painted. They followed him, whispering and begging until his nerve broke and he ran.
When he stopped he was alone again. The place where he stood was completely empty, without even blank canvases. He caught his breath and sat down. All right, Niwa, he told himself firmly. Think. You can't ask what Dark would do because you know already. You can't call With and bust out of here. What would Dad do? What would Hiwatari-kun do?
His father would be able to figure something out. He knew how magic operated. Hiwatari-kun would be logical about it, because he was smart and he knew the rules that this world used. Dark said that Daisuke could get out. Dark was always right about stuff like that, even if Daisuke didn't believe him at first.
He could do this. Dark said so. Hiwatari-kun needed him to help him.
Funny, now that he thought about it. He'd be fine if Hiwatari-kun was there with him. Not only because he wouldn't be alone, but because when Hiwatari-kun was with him he felt calmer, more grounded. He knew that Hiwatari-kun would steady him when he needed it.
Light and Dark, Cold and Heat. Balanced. Even. What had Dad called it? Void, potential movement. The chart Dad had shown him said he was Void-Void -- but what did that mean?
His thoughts chased each other for a long time before the answer came. It meant, he realized slowly, that he could be anything he wanted to be. He could be a thief or an artist, anything he chose to be. That was why Dark had left, not because they didn't need each other or because Dark didn't care for him, but to set him free.
He didn't need Dark or Hiwatari-kun; he could be complete in and of himself. But he didn't want to be. He wanted to need people, to find his balance with them. He wanted to depend on them and be depended on. He wanted Hiwatari-kun. He wanted to go home.
This world was made of art. Things lived here, if you created them. They came if you called them.
There was and easel beside him; a canvas and paint and palette and brushes. Daisuke picked up a brush and the palette, and began to paint.
He dropped into the half-dreaming, fully awake state that he painted in, where he was aware of things happening in the background but only slightly. It was like a trance; he could only see the canvas and his brush and the image in his mind.
Hiwatari-kun's own particular smile, the one he only showed if you could catch him off-guard. Sweet and gentle and maybe a little dry. The way the light reflected off his glasses. The weariness in the way he held himself.
He never knew how long he painted, only that finally he took a deep breath and felt a presence behind him.
Slowly, carefully, as if he was trying to keep an animal from starting and run away, he began to paint again.
"That's not me," said a voice behind him.
"Why not?" he asked.
"I don't look like that," said the voice. "It's ... too good to be me."
'It is you," said Daisuke. "It can be you."
"Can it?" said Hiwatari-kun.
There was a long silence. "They're gone now."
"I know," said Daisuke. He set down his palette and brush but didn't dare look at Hiwatari-kun, as if it would break some spell. "Are you ok?"
"I guess," said Hiwatari-kun. "Are you?"
"No," said Daisuke, baldly. "I miss him. I want to go home."
"There's nothing stopping you."
"I want to go home with you," said Daisuke. He held his breath, waiting for Hiwatari-kun's reply.
"I don't know," said Daisuke. "But I won't go home without you."
Hiwatari-kun was silent again and then wrapped his arms around Daisuke and buried his face in Daisuke's neck. "Let's get you home, then."
"What about you?" said Daisuke.
Hiwatari-kun made a noncommittal noise in his throat but his arms tightened slightly around Daisuke.
Daisuke put his hands over Hiwatari-kun's arms. "Do you know how?"
"Why would I?" said Hiwatari-kun, with something like his usual dryness.
"You're the Hikari."
"You're the Niwa."
"Just because I escaped a magic world once --" began Daisuke, when Hiwatari-kun lifted his head from his shoulder.
Daisuke looked up too. There was a light glowing softly in the sky. He stretched out one hand toward it instinctively, and they began to rise.
"You know --" began Satoshi-kun.
"Satoshi-kun," said Daisuke, trying to concentrate on the light and getting closer to it, "you should be an art critic when you grow up."
"Hey," said Satoshi-kun mildly.
They rose higher and higher as the light grew stronger and in the moment before it blinded them Daisuke felt Satoshi-kun's arms tighten around him and thought, We're going to be all right.
Satoshi opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment. It was a plain, ordinary ceiling and he could see a camera embedded in by the light cover. He turned his head and looked around the room, and saw Daisuke on a bed beside him, lying still.
Daisuke turned his head toward Satoshi and Satoshi saw he was holding a black, white-tipped feather in his hand. He wasn't really crying but his smile was watery. Satoshi wanted to get up and comfort him, but he was too weak; so he tried to smile at him instead.
"We're alive," said Satoshi.
END MY DECEMBER
1/03 - 10/05
I think I'm going to miss the constant nagging feeling of guilt that I should update. ;_;
Yes, this is the end of myDec, and yes, there is a planned sequel called Don't Panic which is set about three or four years later, when the boys are eighteen or so.
If I tried to list everybody who helped me with this monster I'd probably have more text than the actual story, but the main helpers have been Sakkit, Janice, Tanzy, Vikki, Crysi, Ingrid and Amy, everybody who's ever been faced with me on AIM going GUESS WHAT YOU GET BITS DUMPED ON YOU, everybody who's read and commented on it. Couldn't've done it without you guys.
Everything that's vague in the last few chapters is meant to be vague, by the way. I might explain some of it in Don't Panic.
The songs, in order, for the titles:
Story Title: My December (Linkin Park)
01 : Day By Day (badmarsh and shri, CSI OST)
02 : sweet (Chara - Tokyo Babylon Image Soundtrack) (or the one by Lamb, or the Edwards Extended Vocal Remix by Bonnie Pink -- all three work equally well)
Interlude 01 : A World Without Mirrors (a line from Milk, Chara)
03 : What Is This Feeling? (Wicked Original Cast Recording)
04 : The Impression That I Get (The Mighty Mighty Bosstones)
05 : Another Perfect Day (American Hi-Fi)
06: As The Rush Comes (Motorcycle)
Interlude 02 : Vicious Streak (New Order)
07: Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet? (Relient K)
08: Between The Bars (Elliot Smith, Good Will Hunting OST)
09: Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) (Audio Bullies featuring Nancy Sinatra)
10: Let Go (Frou Frou, Garden State OST)
11: Such Great Heights (The Postal Service)
Thanks and see you again!