Categories > Anime/Manga > Gravitation
All I Want 4 Christmas
1 reviewFluff, Christmas, mild angst, Yuki POV... So unfortunately nothin too new, but enjoy anyway.
2Ambiance
Disclaimer: No money, no rights, very little self-respect, no song, no Gravitation and definitely no Yuki. I own nothing... T-T'
Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff towards end. You don't like, don't read!
A/N: Sorry if anyone's out of character, but I can't help it. This is the first Gravitation fanfic I've ever written, and I haven't even seen a single episode! I just know the characters from reputation (and the occasional comic book). Although, I guess I can almost get away with it as this is Yuki POV...
I suppose this has been posted at the wrong time of year, as it's now well past Christmas... Ah well. Enjoy.
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Yuki: I can't believe you're making me do this... ¬_¬U Why does it have to be... 'fluff'?!
Shuichi: YAY!!! I love Christmas! ^-^
Yuki: ... (sigh) ... you would...
Sakuri: (surreptitiously edging closer)
Yuki: What are you doing...? ¬.¬
Shuichi: What's behind your back? Ooohh, show me! Show me!!!!
Sakuri: Okay (pulls out sprig of mistletoe and grins evilly)
Yuki: O.o;;* !! Can we just get this over with?!
Sakuri: Fine. Be that way. On with the story! ^-^
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The slam of the door even startles me. I pause for a moment on the other side, hand still resting on the handle. What have you done? a small voice inside me whispers, but I drown it out with an anger I consider justified, although I'm not sure what sparked it, even now. I allow it to wash over my thoughts as I begin down the hallway, ignoring the other voice that's calling after me. His voice. He's shouting my name from where I've left him, still standing almost forlornly just beyond the door I slammed in his face. It grows fainter as I storm away, and he doesn't chase after me...
Perhaps it's this which brings me to a stop. I brace myself against the wall, resting my forehead there and shutting my eyes as if to make it all disappear. The anger's gone now, as quickly as it had come, and I find myself wondering if it had even been there in the first place...
I consider continuing out into the night, finding something to keep my mind off what has just happened. Alcohol seems like a good bet. It's tempting, this thought. I could go out, drink myself into oblivion if I wanted to, or just get drunk enough that I feel numb... But that same voice from before is back, hissing spitefully in my ear; You'll have to face him at some point... Why not get it over with now, quick and clean...?
And I wonder, Get what over with? It's as if one part of me has realised what I have to do even before I make the conscious effort to accept it. And as soon as I recognise this, it's as if the floodgates of my emotions, normally closed so tightly, have suddenly been opened against my will. And I hate it, this feeling... This vulnerability...
And damn it, he's the cause! I see him in my mind's eye; smiling brightly, always smiling... It can be infectious, sometimes. In this waking dream, I hear him laugh and speak, although I don't hear the words properly. Just his voice. Everything about him is vibrant... I feel pale in his presence, sometimes...
I am supposed to feel elated right now, for more than one reason. It's Christmas, after all. Joy to the world, all that crap. But more than that... His image flashes briefly through my thoughts again. I have more reasons than most to be happy, but all I can feel when I think of him is...
Well, scared. For both of us.
I think of all the times I've made him hurt, made him cry. His eyes stare at me imploringly from my imagination or my memory; I'm not sure which. And he cries because of me. Again, I seem split in two. Some part of me knows how cruel I am to him, more often than not. What's more, I know how cruel it is to continue on letting him love me. If he were just to hate me, like the others, things would be so much simpler...
But, selfishly, I think I am more afraid for myself. I see how cold I am, and I see how he hurts because of me, and I know that this can't go on forever. But... I don't want him to be the one to walk away. I have to be the one to end this, on my terms. Because otherwise... I think it would destroy me. I imagine looking into a mirror, knowing that I have driven even him away, and I can almost hear the crystal fragments of myself shattering on the floor, so much like a broken mirror...
And I know what I have to do, because it's the only thing left.
I turn around, heading back towards the apartment we share. I hesitate only a moment before reopening the door.
He sits there, where I had left him minutes ago, but now he no longer seems vibrant with anger. He seems paler, faded, and again I feel that pang of guilt and fear as I realise I did this to him.
He stares at me, waiting for some reaction, trying to guess whether I want to yell some more or if, by some miracle, I have come back to him to apologise. I can see the hope in his violet eyes, which are made beautiful with unshed tears, and I realise in that moment I pretty much despise myself. But I know that I will just have to live with it, because I am doing this for him, I tell myself. This is for his sake...
"This isn't working..." I whisper, and see the hope die, and the tears... they fall silently.
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"I don't wanna lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby, all I want for Christmas
Is you..."
I don't know if it's night or day. The apartment is dark anyway, because most of the blinds are closed. I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night, I realise. I don't try to move, knowing that if I do the pain in my head will probably send me back into alcohol induced unconsciousness. I drank way too much last night, but it was worth it for the few hours of sweet, dreamless oblivion.
So, instead of moving, instead of thinking, I remain lying here, staring blankly at what would usually be the empty space just above the coffee table. But right now that space is occupied by annoyingly bright, flashy, happy little fairy lights which are wrapped around that pathetic, portable-sized excuse for a Christmas tree which Shuichi insisted on bringing home. I wouldn't let him have a real one, I recall groggily. Too much mess. Too much effort. But the thing in front of me is hardly a substitute. It only seems to deepen my depression. It's only about a foot high, and completely synthetic of course. Its tiny fibre optic branches, tatty and scrawny as they are, are weighed down with glittering ornaments and baubles. The multicoloured lights blur in my vision, and I close my eyes because they're giving me a headache.
And so, I lie here, not daring to move, trying not to think too deeply, and ignoring the world around me in the hopes that it will go away and leave me be. With my eyes closed, with everything black and silent and numb, it feels like I'm dead or unconscious or somewhere in between. I suppose I am, somewhat. I concentrate on my breathing, hoping that perhaps I'll fall asleep again. But sleep is infuriatingly elusive and defiant.
Grudgingly, I open my eyes again and glare at the twinkly lights before me. I think of Shuichi, almost by accident, but it's enough. My breathing shudders for a moment, then returns to normal. And that is the only emotion I show. The voice sneers at me. You heartless bastard, it growls, and I think I might have nodded in agreement.
I don't know how much more time passes. Maybe hours. Could be days. How long have I slept for, anyway? No idea. Not long enough, though.
Eventually, however, I admit to myself that moving at some point might be a good idea. If only so that I can get myself another beer and box of cigarettes. Finally, after whatever amount of time I have wasted staring vacantly into space and trying to hide from my own thoughts, I manage to drag myself into something resembling a sitting position. As I had predicted, it feels as if someone has suddenly placed a gun to my head and pulled the trigger, only I'm not dead, even though it hurts enough for me to want to be. For a moment, I wonder if I'm going to throw up. Thankfully, I don't, although I'm pretty sure I will soon enough. Thinking of this, I head for the bathroom.
Out of habit, perhaps, I head straight for the shower. Undressing is an effort, because it means moving when all I want to do is sink into a blissful, catatonic state from which I never wake. That would be nice...
The water I step under is warm. Reaching up, I turn the dial which controls the temperature. It begins to chill. I bow my head, the water drenching my fringe so that it hangs in front of my eyes. I turn the dial again until the water is frigid. It's almost painful, but I don't care. I make myself stand under the icy spray until I'm clean and my head is reasonably clear. Only then do I step out, hurriedly wrapping a towel around my waist. The cold water drips from my hair down my back, making me shiver continuously.
I am about to go in search of clothing that does not reek of stale alcohol and smoke, when a sharp, rapping knock on the front door distracts me. I think about not answering it, but it sounds again. Frustrated, I snap, "Wait!"
I go quickly into my bedroom, grabbing a pair of dark denim jeans and putting them on. I hesitate a moment when there is another knock, before also choosing a long-sleeved white shirt which I don't bother to fasten. Nearing the door, I growl, "Stop fucking knocking, I'm coming." On the way, I grab a loose cigarette that happens to be sitting on the kitchen counter.
I pull the door open with perhaps more force than is really necessary to find a surprised looking Tohma standing there, hand half raised to knock yet again. He blinks for a moment, probably worried by my appearance - which, despite the shower, could be better. Sure enough:
"Eiri, are you ill?"
I fight the urge to say, Do I look ill to you?! Because, of course, the answer is most definitely, Yes. Instead I turn away, leaving him to follow me if he wishes. He does so, closing the door behind him and striding confidently through my apartment as if he lives here himself. I catch sight of him giving the pile of empty beer cans - which is as high as the table - a disapproving glance, and then the rather puzzled expression which passes over his face when he sees the mini Christmas tree sat nearby.
"You don't often strike me as the type who appreciates the holiday season -"
"I don't," I cut him off irritably, as I head for the other side of the room to open the blinds, revealing that it is indeed daylight. I squint for a moment as the sudden brightness hurts my eyes and my headache protests painfully.
"Very well." He smiles agreeably, green eyes regarding me intently. "But then I suppose you won't like what I have to say next."
I turn, staring at him suspiciously while I light the cigarette in my fingers. I raise it to my lips and inhale, instantly feeling the first thrill of it setting in. Shuichi was forever trying to get me to stop, but the little brat just doesn't understand. Why would I quit? Sure it can take years of your life... But hell, so can being around Shuichi for long periods of time. I smile at that thought, and Tohma gives me a strange look. I remember what he has just said and the smile quickly fades.
"What do you want?" I ask slowly.
He shrugs and smiles. Again. "Oh not me. Mika, actually, and she's insistent."
My eyes narrow in question.
"She is determined that you will come to her little Christmas party. She wants everyone to be there and... Eiri? Are you sure you're okay?"
I guess I must be staring at him rather strangely. But it feels as if the bottom of my stomach has just disappeared and I have this odd urge to hit him. Doesn't he realise that I'm hardly in any mood to even be thinking about a bloody trivial Christmas party?! Only hours ago I was staring into a little glass of the strongest liquor I could find and wondering if death would just be simpler. Does that fucking sound like someone who wants to hear anything about a fucking Christmas party?!
For a moment I wonder if perhaps I have shouted this aloud by accident, as he gives me such a look that I might well have struck him. But it seems he has recoiled from the mere expression on my face. Taking the hint, he soon departs after that.
Just before he leaves, however, he pauses in the doorway, regarding me with concern. Then, from nowhere, he says, "I haven't spoken to Shindou-san for some time. Actually, I had expected him to be here. I was hoping to invite him as well. Do you know where he is?"
I freeze, meeting Tohma's frank stare. He knows. I swear it, he knows! But my expression remains cold, giving away nothing. I raise an eyebrow, desperate to remain composed at the mention of Shuichi.
"I'm not his keeper, Tohma. And it doesn't take a genius to work out that he's either at home or at the studio."
And with that, I shut the door without waiting to see his response.
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~~Flashback~~
"YUKI!!! Why are you being so mean?!"
The blond writer barely cast him a glance. He merely turned the page of his newspaper and inhaled deeply on his cigarette, maintaining that expression of absolute indifference.
And it was this which caused Shuichi to pause. There was a time when his high-pitched, childish outburst would at least provoke a glare from the novelist, a flicker of annoyance, a retort of the almost affectionate insult, 'brat'. But nothing came. Yuki continued to read in silence, ignoring his younger lover easily.
Frowning, Shuichi scrambled up on the sofa next to him, deftly manoeuvring himself so that he was practically sat in the man's lap, blocking the view of the paper. Forced to acknowledge him - as even Yuki would find it hard to remain oblivious to someone suddenly appearing in his lap - the writer sighed in irritation, scowling.
"Get off me, Shuichi," he ground out, glaring over the top of rimless glasses.
Pouting, the vocalist tried one last time to capture his love's full attention. He leant forward, intending to kiss the other, but was rejected almost instantly as Yuki turned his head away. Hurt, Shuichi blinked large violet eyes in confusion.
Yuki stood, allowing Shuichi to drop unceremoniously to the floor. Leaving the newspaper folded on the green sofa cushions, the novelist turned and walked towards his office. "You're such a child sometimes, Shuichi..." he muttered, before slamming the door behind him.
~~End Flashback~~
God, that memory has been replaying itself as if it's on automatic repeat. And every time I relive it, I can remember clearly the look on his face as I walk away from him. Just one of the many times I've managed to hurt and confuse him so thoroughly. But I think it's this memory that keeps coming back because it was then that I was just beginning to come to my senses. Admittedly, I wasn't exactly handling it well, but still... It was then that I was realising I had to leave Shuichi.
I sit now glaring at the blank, quietly buzzing screen in front of me, willing the neat, black, printed letters to appear across the white page. They don't, of course, and it doesn't take me long to realise that simply willing myself to write something is useless. Annoyed, I close my laptop and decide to go get a beer from the fridge.
It's been several days since Tohma called round, and wouldn't you know it, today's the 'big day'. Christmas. Joy to the freakin' world...
Beer in hand, I head back into the living room and resume my seat on the sofa. I feel tired, listless. Nothing seems to be all that important anymore. And this apartment is too quiet. God, I never thought I'd say or even think that... But it's true. At least when Shuichi was here, there was life to this place. Noise. Often too much of it.
Sighing, I move to put down the can on the coffee table, glancing around for the TV remote control. But a tiny shattering sound distracts me. Startled, I glance towards the table, and instantly realise what made the noise. One of Shuichi's precious little ornaments now lies in pieces across the table surface and floor. I realise I must have knocked it with the beer can, which is now sat too close to the little tree. Sighing, I kneel next to it, picking up the red and gold shards carefully.
I stare at the pathetic little thing loosely termed a 'tree' for a minute, thinking of Shuichi - which is something I have not allowed myself to do lately. But for the moment, I stare at the lights that are still flashing insistently, determined that I should acknowledge them... like Shuichi. And I smile, thinking of my pink-haired imp taking the time to decorate this... this mockery of a tree. Because only he would find it worthwhile. Only he would resort to this rather than have no testament to the season at all.
I know I did the right thing... Didn't I?
Of course I did. There was no other way. The relationship we had wasn't healthy. There was no way something that fragile would have lasted... At least this way, it's over quickly. Quick and clean, that was what I said, wasn't it?
Besides, it doesn't matter how I feel now, anyway. I made my decision when I told him to leave. I made it every time I caused him pain...
I remember the night before we argued. I remember lying awake in the semi-darkness, listening to him sleep next to me. He had fallen asleep before I had even left my computer. And I remember trying to figure out why I felt so terrified listening to that which is supposed to bring comfort. Why did I feel so scared, just having him lying there next to me?
I needed to get away from him. Just so I could clear my thoughts. I sat up, intending to leave the room silently, but a soft sigh from him gave me pause. He said something in his sleep, something I did not quite catch. I turned around, curious, to see his expression. He looks as though in the hold of a nightmare, but at the same time seems restrained, almost sad rather than frightened. He said something again, and I leant in to catch the words.
"Yu-ki..." His breath caught, brows furrowing for a second. "Don't... lea...ve. I..." He fell silent. I turned away, not wanting to hear the rest of his dream. I stood, but two more words escape his lips before I'm gone from earshot. "...love you."
I froze, shuddering, feeling the terror set in afresh. And it was only then that I realised exactly what had and still is traumatizing me.
It was only then that I realised this had to end.
Because, ironically, it was then that I knew I loved him...
And it is only now that I realise I'm crying as I think back on all of this.
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"I don't wanna lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
Way up on the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas day
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby, all I want for Christmas
Is you..."
I must have left the door to my apartment open, because when Tohma burst through it there is no warning knock; no chance for me to compose myself before he sees me. I turn around instinctively at the sound of his entrance, momentarily forgetting the tell-tale tear streaks on my face. It doesn't matter. He barely glances at me, instead striding straight through the room, checking each door as he goes. Without a word to me, he returns to the front door and leans round it, saying hurriedly, "He's not here!" to someone on the other side. I see Hiro turn and disappear with just as much haste.
By now I have quickly brushed a hand across my eyes and dried most of the incriminating tear stains. Incredulous, I turn on Tohma.
"What the hell is going on? Who's not here?!"
He turns to me finally, green eyes glinting and pale hair more ruffled than usual. "Have you seen him? Shuichi?"
At that, my heart gives the first little skip. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing serious... But..."
Second skip. "Where is he?" I demand.
And then he pauses. This ominous silence that stretches out between us. My heart does about three consecutive flips. Finally, "We don't know. Nobody's seen him since this morning, and none of us have any idea where or why he might go."
I hesitate. "So... why are you so worried? Could be he just decided to go for a walk." I shrug, hoping the nonchalance has conviction.
Tohma again pauses, looking uncertain. "A walk? All day? Christmas day? Besides, he has been very... depressed these past few days, Eiri. And he was supposed to be with Hiro and Ryuichi all day. Mika's party has already started, and he was supposed to be there, too."
"How long have you been looking?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "Not long. We figured he'd be back by now, and that he just needed to get away for a little while. But it's gone beyond a 'little while'."
I shiver, feeling this irrational fear settle over my chest. I know it's stupid. Shuichi's probably perfectly fine. He's just throwing a tantrum cause he didn't get the presents he wanted, that's all.
I can't think of anything else to say, but it doesn't matter. Tohma is already striding away, halfway down the hallway before I come to my senses. "I'm coming with you," I tell him quietly but firmly.
He doesn't question, and I'm not surprised by this. Tohma sometimes knows me better that I do myself.
I catch up to him, but don't fall into pace. Instead I go on ahead.
"...Eiri?"
I give no response other than the short explanation, "I know where he'll be."
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"I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
I just wanna keep on waitin'
Underneath the mistletoe
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for St. Nick
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
I just want you here tonight
Holdin' on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Oh baby, all I want for Christmas
Is you..."
It's true. I know exactly where he'll be. And without a word, Tohma seems to disappear from sight, leaving me to do this alone.
It's snowing heavily outside; large white flakes falling so thickly through the air that it's almost hard to see. I remember hearing that no two snowflakes are ever the same, but it's hard to think of each of these tiny ice matrixes as being perfectly unique. I wonder why I'm thinking about something so pointless, then realise that I'm just trying not to think about Shuichi. It's freezing out. And if he's where I think he is, and depending on how long he's been there...
Subconsciously, I speed into a half-jog.
I forgot to grab my own coat on the way out, and it occurs to me just how cold it is. The night time darkness and the harsh starkness of the street lights only seem to add to this. There's hardly anyone else out at this time on Christmas Day, of course, and I find myself listening to the occasionally car driving by, the more-than-occasional carol being broadcasted into the streets, and the silence that seems to descend in between these things; and I can't help but think to myself, My God, this is Christmas?
Thankfully, the park is not far from my apartment. As soon as I see the gates, I hurry up even more and am soon approaching the spot where I know he is.
Sure enough, I only have to take one glance... and there he is. Bright orange jacket, bright pink hair, both colours muted slightly by the pale covering of snow. I stop walking, staring at him for a moment. He hasn't seen me yet. And I remember standing here - was it this exact spot? - when we first met.
It takes all that is in me to take the first step forward.
At that he turns, and I see violet eyes widen impossibly at the sight of me. "Yuki..."
I remain mute, unable to think of anything adequate to say... No, not quite true. There are a thousand things I want to say to him... but how? I have no idea, and the words which usually come so easily to me on paper seem to take flight and I'm left with only silence.
"W-what are you doing here?" he stammers nervously.
Again, I can't seem to find my voice. What's wrong with me? Why can't I speak to him?! All I can do is stare, wondering why I'm suddenly left unable to defend or justify - or even explain, for that matter - myself to him.
"Yuki?" he sounds oddly worried.
"I came... I mean, they're looking for you... Tohma and the others... I knew you'd be here..." I finally manage to force out.
"Oh." He turns away, looking downcast. "I'm not going to Mika's party... Tell them -"
"Come on brat," I say before I've even thought about the words. "You're going. Mika'll never let it go if you don't."
"...Don't..."
That gives me pause. I stop trying desperately to appear normal when I hear his voice like that. He sounds so hurt... "Don't what?"
"...Don't call me that."
"Brat?"
"Yes, Yuki, don't call me brat anymore! You're supposed to call me that, but now nothing's the way it's supposed to be, so neither is that!" He's shouting.
I stare, perplexed and taken aback by Shuichi's little outburst. Then, once again before I can soften my own words, "...What the hell are you talking about?!" Instantly I regret it.
He looks away for a moment, refusing to look at me. I take another step forward, only to halt abruptly when he suddenly whips around to stare at me. There are tears in his eyes and on his face, but he refuses to cry properly. "...Why?"
He doesn't need to elaborate on the question. I know what he's asking me... but, oh God, I don't want to answer that... Can't he see how much I don't want to answer that? ...Probably. That might even be why he's asking.
It's my turn to look down, and my mouth moves but no sound comes out. I can't... I can't do this! I almost turn away then, half contemplating simply running. But before I can move, I find myself staring down into violet depths.
"Why?" he asks again, more determined than ever. "Yuki, please..."
In an instant, I find myself transported back to that same memory. Lying next to him, just listening, and feeling terrified. And I know why... I know the answer he wants, but how can I say it? How can I even admit it to myself, never mind him, when even the thought scares me...?
I expect some petulant or childish outburst from him. Demands for me to explain, to justify - even to lie, if that's what he expects of me. I know he wants some kind of reaction, no matter what it is.
Yet he says nothing when I remain silent. Slowly, he draws back. His eyes are wet, but harder than I've ever seen them before, and I can't help but feel pained by that.
"Fine," he says quietly, obviously fighting not to cry or shout. He takes another step back. "Fine. I know the real reason anyway, so why -"
"And what reason's that?" I snap, unable to stop it. God, what's wrong with me?! Haven't I put him through enough without prolonging it even more? Just walk away! the voice is screaming at me, begging me to listen. Walk away and leave him alone! He's better off, why argue about it? And I almost heed it; almost turn on my heel then and there, fearful of revealing anything more than I already have. But I can't, if only for the sakes of curiosity and pride. I genuinely want to know what he thinks of me, and whether it's anything near the truth. "Well?"
He glares, looking hurt. "Why do you do this, Yuki? Make me spell out every little thing, even when you already know the answer..." He sniffles, violet eyes massive and liquid. Then he draws a breath shakily to go on: "You don't care about us, and you never have! We both know it, and that's why it 'won't work' anymore! You were happy enough to have me sleep with you until you got bored... right? And then, when it got too much, when you realised you'd... you'd m-made me fall in love with you... you couldn't get rid of me fast enough." He was crying, but he jerked his chin defiantly. "I'm not stupid, Yuki, no matter what you say. That's the truth, so don't bother lying to me."
... ... ...
... That's ... what he thinks of me...?
... ... ...
... Seriously?
I can feel anger rising up over the stunned silence inside me, and perhaps, somewhere, some small part of me tries to resist it.
The rest of me, however, is all too eager to vent some form of emotion...
"You have got to be kidding me... You little idiot!" Well, now, doesn't he look surprised? I can't believe he'd believe a single word of that! Okay, admittedly, I gave him very little indication otherwise, but still! I want to yell at him for being so unbelievably dense, for not knowing that what he had just said was absolute drivel, for saying it in the first place when less than an hour ago I'd been reduced to goddamned crying myself for the first time in years!!!
Abruptly, I realise I actually am yelling at him. I'm so sunk in disbelief and outrage that I can't even remember what I've been saying.
"... ...love with you, you brat!"
... ... ...
... Wait, what?!
I stop speaking, amazed and horribly, horribly stunned. We're staring at each other with perhaps the exact same expression, and neither of us can believe I'd really said it.
I think I'm the first to regain equilibrium. Maybe it's some form of survival instinct, or the need to maintain dignity, or just force of habit. I cough, using the excuse of searching for a cigarette to look away from him. I find one in my front pocket, quickly light it and inhale. He's still staring wordlessly as I blow out the thin, billowing stream of smoke.
"So I guess that gives me free permission to call you stupid as often as I want, as you certainly don't know any 'truth' of the matter, brat." I inhale again, waiting for a non-forthcoming reaction. Finally I shrug and turn away. Throwing the cigarette down on the floor, I begin to walk away, almost hoping he'll stop me.
But he doesn't.
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"All the lights are shinin'
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of childrens'
Laughter fills the air
And everybody's singin'
O, I hear those sleigh bells ringin'
Santa won't you bring me the one I really need?
Just bring back my baby to me!"
Mika's party is everything I thought it would be and more: bright, loud, oppressive, nerve-grating, excessive, trivial... Anyway, you get the point. I'm not happy. Big news, I know.
Shuichi isn't here, a full hour into the so called 'event'. Okay, I'll admit, not only did I expect him to run after me back there in the park, afterwards (when he didn't) I thought he'd arrive here as early as possible so he could corner me about my little... revelation, so to speak. Quite obviously, he hasn't done that either. And the urge to know why he hasn't is getting stronger.
To my right, Tatsuha drifts dazedly after the other little idiot, Ryuichi. Why a supposed adult still insists on acting like a child - to the point of dragging around that tattered rabbit doll, for God's sakes - is beyond me. What's worse is watching my brother all but drool over him. At the very least (even if I am being a tad hypocritical) I have the decency to act civilised around my own little moron.
I sigh, realising the absurdity of that train of thought, and take a sip of the sparkling champagne, all the while wishing it was something stronger.
It looks as if Tohma is being forced to restrain K, who looks as though he could quite blithely kill my dear brother. Probably because, as several other guests have now noticed, he's blatantly trailing after Ryuichi with an excessively large sprig of mistletoe. Vaguely I wonder if Mika would be mad to find Tatsuha lying dead of a gunshot wound somewhere underneath the Christmas tree...
I fight the urge to tell them all where to go. I'm so exasperated with this entire day that I just want to go home and sleep until New Year. Who in their right minds can enjoy Christmas? I ask you, in all seriousness, how -
Without warning, I suddenly find myself staring into familiar hues of violet and, yet again, I can't think of anything to say.
This time, however, he has no problem being direct. "Did you mean it?" For the first time in longer than I can remember, I can see hope in his expression as he asks that question.
I open my mouth to say something sarcastic. Again, this is probably force of habit. I don't want to answer, even though I'm pretty sure we both know the truth... well, I hope. Surely he can't be that thick! I want to cut him off, quickly escape the too-close-for-comfort conversation... but I know we'll be back at the beginning if I do. I wonder if it's still worth the effort of running from all of this, but I know the answer. I know because I saw what it did to us both.
He steps closer, seeing my hesitation. "Yuki? ...D-did you?"
I sigh, resigned. "...What do you think, brat?"
For a moment he frowns at my tone of voice. This lasts all of 0.5 seconds... I can actually describe in detail the number of facial expressions he went through after that. Truth be told, it was almost amusing.
"...R-really?!"
I don't answer. I didn't get a chance. Either he didn't care for confirmation, or he already knew my response... Either way, the prospect of me saying the three famous little words didn't seem to be powerful enough to stop him careering full-force into me, screaming my name at the top of his childish, high-pitched voice...
Champagne went everywhere, as did a few nearby Christmas decorations.
"Baka!!"
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"I don't wanna lot for Christmas
This is all I'm askin' for
I just wanna see my baby
Standin' right outside my door
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you..."
... ... ... I suppose it wasn't that bad a Christmas.
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Sakuri: Woo! Christmas! Yay!
Yuki: (speechless) O.o!
Shuichi: (still clinging to Yuki) I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!!!
Sakuri: I think it's a little OOC towards the end, but inner rants are always funny. Please review. Constructive criticism welcome - somebody can tell me if I got a character wrong/how to make it right. ^-^ Thanx!
Yuki: (glaring daggers) I hate you...... ¬.¬U
Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff towards end. You don't like, don't read!
A/N: Sorry if anyone's out of character, but I can't help it. This is the first Gravitation fanfic I've ever written, and I haven't even seen a single episode! I just know the characters from reputation (and the occasional comic book). Although, I guess I can almost get away with it as this is Yuki POV...
I suppose this has been posted at the wrong time of year, as it's now well past Christmas... Ah well. Enjoy.
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Yuki: I can't believe you're making me do this... ¬_¬U Why does it have to be... 'fluff'?!
Shuichi: YAY!!! I love Christmas! ^-^
Yuki: ... (sigh) ... you would...
Sakuri: (surreptitiously edging closer)
Yuki: What are you doing...? ¬.¬
Shuichi: What's behind your back? Ooohh, show me! Show me!!!!
Sakuri: Okay (pulls out sprig of mistletoe and grins evilly)
Yuki: O.o;;* !! Can we just get this over with?!
Sakuri: Fine. Be that way. On with the story! ^-^
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The slam of the door even startles me. I pause for a moment on the other side, hand still resting on the handle. What have you done? a small voice inside me whispers, but I drown it out with an anger I consider justified, although I'm not sure what sparked it, even now. I allow it to wash over my thoughts as I begin down the hallway, ignoring the other voice that's calling after me. His voice. He's shouting my name from where I've left him, still standing almost forlornly just beyond the door I slammed in his face. It grows fainter as I storm away, and he doesn't chase after me...
Perhaps it's this which brings me to a stop. I brace myself against the wall, resting my forehead there and shutting my eyes as if to make it all disappear. The anger's gone now, as quickly as it had come, and I find myself wondering if it had even been there in the first place...
I consider continuing out into the night, finding something to keep my mind off what has just happened. Alcohol seems like a good bet. It's tempting, this thought. I could go out, drink myself into oblivion if I wanted to, or just get drunk enough that I feel numb... But that same voice from before is back, hissing spitefully in my ear; You'll have to face him at some point... Why not get it over with now, quick and clean...?
And I wonder, Get what over with? It's as if one part of me has realised what I have to do even before I make the conscious effort to accept it. And as soon as I recognise this, it's as if the floodgates of my emotions, normally closed so tightly, have suddenly been opened against my will. And I hate it, this feeling... This vulnerability...
And damn it, he's the cause! I see him in my mind's eye; smiling brightly, always smiling... It can be infectious, sometimes. In this waking dream, I hear him laugh and speak, although I don't hear the words properly. Just his voice. Everything about him is vibrant... I feel pale in his presence, sometimes...
I am supposed to feel elated right now, for more than one reason. It's Christmas, after all. Joy to the world, all that crap. But more than that... His image flashes briefly through my thoughts again. I have more reasons than most to be happy, but all I can feel when I think of him is...
Well, scared. For both of us.
I think of all the times I've made him hurt, made him cry. His eyes stare at me imploringly from my imagination or my memory; I'm not sure which. And he cries because of me. Again, I seem split in two. Some part of me knows how cruel I am to him, more often than not. What's more, I know how cruel it is to continue on letting him love me. If he were just to hate me, like the others, things would be so much simpler...
But, selfishly, I think I am more afraid for myself. I see how cold I am, and I see how he hurts because of me, and I know that this can't go on forever. But... I don't want him to be the one to walk away. I have to be the one to end this, on my terms. Because otherwise... I think it would destroy me. I imagine looking into a mirror, knowing that I have driven even him away, and I can almost hear the crystal fragments of myself shattering on the floor, so much like a broken mirror...
And I know what I have to do, because it's the only thing left.
I turn around, heading back towards the apartment we share. I hesitate only a moment before reopening the door.
He sits there, where I had left him minutes ago, but now he no longer seems vibrant with anger. He seems paler, faded, and again I feel that pang of guilt and fear as I realise I did this to him.
He stares at me, waiting for some reaction, trying to guess whether I want to yell some more or if, by some miracle, I have come back to him to apologise. I can see the hope in his violet eyes, which are made beautiful with unshed tears, and I realise in that moment I pretty much despise myself. But I know that I will just have to live with it, because I am doing this for him, I tell myself. This is for his sake...
"This isn't working..." I whisper, and see the hope die, and the tears... they fall silently.
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"I don't wanna lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby, all I want for Christmas
Is you..."
I don't know if it's night or day. The apartment is dark anyway, because most of the blinds are closed. I must have fallen asleep on the couch last night, I realise. I don't try to move, knowing that if I do the pain in my head will probably send me back into alcohol induced unconsciousness. I drank way too much last night, but it was worth it for the few hours of sweet, dreamless oblivion.
So, instead of moving, instead of thinking, I remain lying here, staring blankly at what would usually be the empty space just above the coffee table. But right now that space is occupied by annoyingly bright, flashy, happy little fairy lights which are wrapped around that pathetic, portable-sized excuse for a Christmas tree which Shuichi insisted on bringing home. I wouldn't let him have a real one, I recall groggily. Too much mess. Too much effort. But the thing in front of me is hardly a substitute. It only seems to deepen my depression. It's only about a foot high, and completely synthetic of course. Its tiny fibre optic branches, tatty and scrawny as they are, are weighed down with glittering ornaments and baubles. The multicoloured lights blur in my vision, and I close my eyes because they're giving me a headache.
And so, I lie here, not daring to move, trying not to think too deeply, and ignoring the world around me in the hopes that it will go away and leave me be. With my eyes closed, with everything black and silent and numb, it feels like I'm dead or unconscious or somewhere in between. I suppose I am, somewhat. I concentrate on my breathing, hoping that perhaps I'll fall asleep again. But sleep is infuriatingly elusive and defiant.
Grudgingly, I open my eyes again and glare at the twinkly lights before me. I think of Shuichi, almost by accident, but it's enough. My breathing shudders for a moment, then returns to normal. And that is the only emotion I show. The voice sneers at me. You heartless bastard, it growls, and I think I might have nodded in agreement.
I don't know how much more time passes. Maybe hours. Could be days. How long have I slept for, anyway? No idea. Not long enough, though.
Eventually, however, I admit to myself that moving at some point might be a good idea. If only so that I can get myself another beer and box of cigarettes. Finally, after whatever amount of time I have wasted staring vacantly into space and trying to hide from my own thoughts, I manage to drag myself into something resembling a sitting position. As I had predicted, it feels as if someone has suddenly placed a gun to my head and pulled the trigger, only I'm not dead, even though it hurts enough for me to want to be. For a moment, I wonder if I'm going to throw up. Thankfully, I don't, although I'm pretty sure I will soon enough. Thinking of this, I head for the bathroom.
Out of habit, perhaps, I head straight for the shower. Undressing is an effort, because it means moving when all I want to do is sink into a blissful, catatonic state from which I never wake. That would be nice...
The water I step under is warm. Reaching up, I turn the dial which controls the temperature. It begins to chill. I bow my head, the water drenching my fringe so that it hangs in front of my eyes. I turn the dial again until the water is frigid. It's almost painful, but I don't care. I make myself stand under the icy spray until I'm clean and my head is reasonably clear. Only then do I step out, hurriedly wrapping a towel around my waist. The cold water drips from my hair down my back, making me shiver continuously.
I am about to go in search of clothing that does not reek of stale alcohol and smoke, when a sharp, rapping knock on the front door distracts me. I think about not answering it, but it sounds again. Frustrated, I snap, "Wait!"
I go quickly into my bedroom, grabbing a pair of dark denim jeans and putting them on. I hesitate a moment when there is another knock, before also choosing a long-sleeved white shirt which I don't bother to fasten. Nearing the door, I growl, "Stop fucking knocking, I'm coming." On the way, I grab a loose cigarette that happens to be sitting on the kitchen counter.
I pull the door open with perhaps more force than is really necessary to find a surprised looking Tohma standing there, hand half raised to knock yet again. He blinks for a moment, probably worried by my appearance - which, despite the shower, could be better. Sure enough:
"Eiri, are you ill?"
I fight the urge to say, Do I look ill to you?! Because, of course, the answer is most definitely, Yes. Instead I turn away, leaving him to follow me if he wishes. He does so, closing the door behind him and striding confidently through my apartment as if he lives here himself. I catch sight of him giving the pile of empty beer cans - which is as high as the table - a disapproving glance, and then the rather puzzled expression which passes over his face when he sees the mini Christmas tree sat nearby.
"You don't often strike me as the type who appreciates the holiday season -"
"I don't," I cut him off irritably, as I head for the other side of the room to open the blinds, revealing that it is indeed daylight. I squint for a moment as the sudden brightness hurts my eyes and my headache protests painfully.
"Very well." He smiles agreeably, green eyes regarding me intently. "But then I suppose you won't like what I have to say next."
I turn, staring at him suspiciously while I light the cigarette in my fingers. I raise it to my lips and inhale, instantly feeling the first thrill of it setting in. Shuichi was forever trying to get me to stop, but the little brat just doesn't understand. Why would I quit? Sure it can take years of your life... But hell, so can being around Shuichi for long periods of time. I smile at that thought, and Tohma gives me a strange look. I remember what he has just said and the smile quickly fades.
"What do you want?" I ask slowly.
He shrugs and smiles. Again. "Oh not me. Mika, actually, and she's insistent."
My eyes narrow in question.
"She is determined that you will come to her little Christmas party. She wants everyone to be there and... Eiri? Are you sure you're okay?"
I guess I must be staring at him rather strangely. But it feels as if the bottom of my stomach has just disappeared and I have this odd urge to hit him. Doesn't he realise that I'm hardly in any mood to even be thinking about a bloody trivial Christmas party?! Only hours ago I was staring into a little glass of the strongest liquor I could find and wondering if death would just be simpler. Does that fucking sound like someone who wants to hear anything about a fucking Christmas party?!
For a moment I wonder if perhaps I have shouted this aloud by accident, as he gives me such a look that I might well have struck him. But it seems he has recoiled from the mere expression on my face. Taking the hint, he soon departs after that.
Just before he leaves, however, he pauses in the doorway, regarding me with concern. Then, from nowhere, he says, "I haven't spoken to Shindou-san for some time. Actually, I had expected him to be here. I was hoping to invite him as well. Do you know where he is?"
I freeze, meeting Tohma's frank stare. He knows. I swear it, he knows! But my expression remains cold, giving away nothing. I raise an eyebrow, desperate to remain composed at the mention of Shuichi.
"I'm not his keeper, Tohma. And it doesn't take a genius to work out that he's either at home or at the studio."
And with that, I shut the door without waiting to see his response.
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~~Flashback~~
"YUKI!!! Why are you being so mean?!"
The blond writer barely cast him a glance. He merely turned the page of his newspaper and inhaled deeply on his cigarette, maintaining that expression of absolute indifference.
And it was this which caused Shuichi to pause. There was a time when his high-pitched, childish outburst would at least provoke a glare from the novelist, a flicker of annoyance, a retort of the almost affectionate insult, 'brat'. But nothing came. Yuki continued to read in silence, ignoring his younger lover easily.
Frowning, Shuichi scrambled up on the sofa next to him, deftly manoeuvring himself so that he was practically sat in the man's lap, blocking the view of the paper. Forced to acknowledge him - as even Yuki would find it hard to remain oblivious to someone suddenly appearing in his lap - the writer sighed in irritation, scowling.
"Get off me, Shuichi," he ground out, glaring over the top of rimless glasses.
Pouting, the vocalist tried one last time to capture his love's full attention. He leant forward, intending to kiss the other, but was rejected almost instantly as Yuki turned his head away. Hurt, Shuichi blinked large violet eyes in confusion.
Yuki stood, allowing Shuichi to drop unceremoniously to the floor. Leaving the newspaper folded on the green sofa cushions, the novelist turned and walked towards his office. "You're such a child sometimes, Shuichi..." he muttered, before slamming the door behind him.
~~End Flashback~~
God, that memory has been replaying itself as if it's on automatic repeat. And every time I relive it, I can remember clearly the look on his face as I walk away from him. Just one of the many times I've managed to hurt and confuse him so thoroughly. But I think it's this memory that keeps coming back because it was then that I was just beginning to come to my senses. Admittedly, I wasn't exactly handling it well, but still... It was then that I was realising I had to leave Shuichi.
I sit now glaring at the blank, quietly buzzing screen in front of me, willing the neat, black, printed letters to appear across the white page. They don't, of course, and it doesn't take me long to realise that simply willing myself to write something is useless. Annoyed, I close my laptop and decide to go get a beer from the fridge.
It's been several days since Tohma called round, and wouldn't you know it, today's the 'big day'. Christmas. Joy to the freakin' world...
Beer in hand, I head back into the living room and resume my seat on the sofa. I feel tired, listless. Nothing seems to be all that important anymore. And this apartment is too quiet. God, I never thought I'd say or even think that... But it's true. At least when Shuichi was here, there was life to this place. Noise. Often too much of it.
Sighing, I move to put down the can on the coffee table, glancing around for the TV remote control. But a tiny shattering sound distracts me. Startled, I glance towards the table, and instantly realise what made the noise. One of Shuichi's precious little ornaments now lies in pieces across the table surface and floor. I realise I must have knocked it with the beer can, which is now sat too close to the little tree. Sighing, I kneel next to it, picking up the red and gold shards carefully.
I stare at the pathetic little thing loosely termed a 'tree' for a minute, thinking of Shuichi - which is something I have not allowed myself to do lately. But for the moment, I stare at the lights that are still flashing insistently, determined that I should acknowledge them... like Shuichi. And I smile, thinking of my pink-haired imp taking the time to decorate this... this mockery of a tree. Because only he would find it worthwhile. Only he would resort to this rather than have no testament to the season at all.
I know I did the right thing... Didn't I?
Of course I did. There was no other way. The relationship we had wasn't healthy. There was no way something that fragile would have lasted... At least this way, it's over quickly. Quick and clean, that was what I said, wasn't it?
Besides, it doesn't matter how I feel now, anyway. I made my decision when I told him to leave. I made it every time I caused him pain...
I remember the night before we argued. I remember lying awake in the semi-darkness, listening to him sleep next to me. He had fallen asleep before I had even left my computer. And I remember trying to figure out why I felt so terrified listening to that which is supposed to bring comfort. Why did I feel so scared, just having him lying there next to me?
I needed to get away from him. Just so I could clear my thoughts. I sat up, intending to leave the room silently, but a soft sigh from him gave me pause. He said something in his sleep, something I did not quite catch. I turned around, curious, to see his expression. He looks as though in the hold of a nightmare, but at the same time seems restrained, almost sad rather than frightened. He said something again, and I leant in to catch the words.
"Yu-ki..." His breath caught, brows furrowing for a second. "Don't... lea...ve. I..." He fell silent. I turned away, not wanting to hear the rest of his dream. I stood, but two more words escape his lips before I'm gone from earshot. "...love you."
I froze, shuddering, feeling the terror set in afresh. And it was only then that I realised exactly what had and still is traumatizing me.
It was only then that I realised this had to end.
Because, ironically, it was then that I knew I loved him...
And it is only now that I realise I'm crying as I think back on all of this.
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"I don't wanna lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don't need to hang my stocking
Way up on the fireplace
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas day
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby, all I want for Christmas
Is you..."
I must have left the door to my apartment open, because when Tohma burst through it there is no warning knock; no chance for me to compose myself before he sees me. I turn around instinctively at the sound of his entrance, momentarily forgetting the tell-tale tear streaks on my face. It doesn't matter. He barely glances at me, instead striding straight through the room, checking each door as he goes. Without a word to me, he returns to the front door and leans round it, saying hurriedly, "He's not here!" to someone on the other side. I see Hiro turn and disappear with just as much haste.
By now I have quickly brushed a hand across my eyes and dried most of the incriminating tear stains. Incredulous, I turn on Tohma.
"What the hell is going on? Who's not here?!"
He turns to me finally, green eyes glinting and pale hair more ruffled than usual. "Have you seen him? Shuichi?"
At that, my heart gives the first little skip. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing serious... But..."
Second skip. "Where is he?" I demand.
And then he pauses. This ominous silence that stretches out between us. My heart does about three consecutive flips. Finally, "We don't know. Nobody's seen him since this morning, and none of us have any idea where or why he might go."
I hesitate. "So... why are you so worried? Could be he just decided to go for a walk." I shrug, hoping the nonchalance has conviction.
Tohma again pauses, looking uncertain. "A walk? All day? Christmas day? Besides, he has been very... depressed these past few days, Eiri. And he was supposed to be with Hiro and Ryuichi all day. Mika's party has already started, and he was supposed to be there, too."
"How long have you been looking?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "Not long. We figured he'd be back by now, and that he just needed to get away for a little while. But it's gone beyond a 'little while'."
I shiver, feeling this irrational fear settle over my chest. I know it's stupid. Shuichi's probably perfectly fine. He's just throwing a tantrum cause he didn't get the presents he wanted, that's all.
I can't think of anything else to say, but it doesn't matter. Tohma is already striding away, halfway down the hallway before I come to my senses. "I'm coming with you," I tell him quietly but firmly.
He doesn't question, and I'm not surprised by this. Tohma sometimes knows me better that I do myself.
I catch up to him, but don't fall into pace. Instead I go on ahead.
"...Eiri?"
I give no response other than the short explanation, "I know where he'll be."
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"I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
I just wanna keep on waitin'
Underneath the mistletoe
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for St. Nick
I won't even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
I just want you here tonight
Holdin' on to me so tight
What more can I do?
Oh baby, all I want for Christmas
Is you..."
It's true. I know exactly where he'll be. And without a word, Tohma seems to disappear from sight, leaving me to do this alone.
It's snowing heavily outside; large white flakes falling so thickly through the air that it's almost hard to see. I remember hearing that no two snowflakes are ever the same, but it's hard to think of each of these tiny ice matrixes as being perfectly unique. I wonder why I'm thinking about something so pointless, then realise that I'm just trying not to think about Shuichi. It's freezing out. And if he's where I think he is, and depending on how long he's been there...
Subconsciously, I speed into a half-jog.
I forgot to grab my own coat on the way out, and it occurs to me just how cold it is. The night time darkness and the harsh starkness of the street lights only seem to add to this. There's hardly anyone else out at this time on Christmas Day, of course, and I find myself listening to the occasionally car driving by, the more-than-occasional carol being broadcasted into the streets, and the silence that seems to descend in between these things; and I can't help but think to myself, My God, this is Christmas?
Thankfully, the park is not far from my apartment. As soon as I see the gates, I hurry up even more and am soon approaching the spot where I know he is.
Sure enough, I only have to take one glance... and there he is. Bright orange jacket, bright pink hair, both colours muted slightly by the pale covering of snow. I stop walking, staring at him for a moment. He hasn't seen me yet. And I remember standing here - was it this exact spot? - when we first met.
It takes all that is in me to take the first step forward.
At that he turns, and I see violet eyes widen impossibly at the sight of me. "Yuki..."
I remain mute, unable to think of anything adequate to say... No, not quite true. There are a thousand things I want to say to him... but how? I have no idea, and the words which usually come so easily to me on paper seem to take flight and I'm left with only silence.
"W-what are you doing here?" he stammers nervously.
Again, I can't seem to find my voice. What's wrong with me? Why can't I speak to him?! All I can do is stare, wondering why I'm suddenly left unable to defend or justify - or even explain, for that matter - myself to him.
"Yuki?" he sounds oddly worried.
"I came... I mean, they're looking for you... Tohma and the others... I knew you'd be here..." I finally manage to force out.
"Oh." He turns away, looking downcast. "I'm not going to Mika's party... Tell them -"
"Come on brat," I say before I've even thought about the words. "You're going. Mika'll never let it go if you don't."
"...Don't..."
That gives me pause. I stop trying desperately to appear normal when I hear his voice like that. He sounds so hurt... "Don't what?"
"...Don't call me that."
"Brat?"
"Yes, Yuki, don't call me brat anymore! You're supposed to call me that, but now nothing's the way it's supposed to be, so neither is that!" He's shouting.
I stare, perplexed and taken aback by Shuichi's little outburst. Then, once again before I can soften my own words, "...What the hell are you talking about?!" Instantly I regret it.
He looks away for a moment, refusing to look at me. I take another step forward, only to halt abruptly when he suddenly whips around to stare at me. There are tears in his eyes and on his face, but he refuses to cry properly. "...Why?"
He doesn't need to elaborate on the question. I know what he's asking me... but, oh God, I don't want to answer that... Can't he see how much I don't want to answer that? ...Probably. That might even be why he's asking.
It's my turn to look down, and my mouth moves but no sound comes out. I can't... I can't do this! I almost turn away then, half contemplating simply running. But before I can move, I find myself staring down into violet depths.
"Why?" he asks again, more determined than ever. "Yuki, please..."
In an instant, I find myself transported back to that same memory. Lying next to him, just listening, and feeling terrified. And I know why... I know the answer he wants, but how can I say it? How can I even admit it to myself, never mind him, when even the thought scares me...?
I expect some petulant or childish outburst from him. Demands for me to explain, to justify - even to lie, if that's what he expects of me. I know he wants some kind of reaction, no matter what it is.
Yet he says nothing when I remain silent. Slowly, he draws back. His eyes are wet, but harder than I've ever seen them before, and I can't help but feel pained by that.
"Fine," he says quietly, obviously fighting not to cry or shout. He takes another step back. "Fine. I know the real reason anyway, so why -"
"And what reason's that?" I snap, unable to stop it. God, what's wrong with me?! Haven't I put him through enough without prolonging it even more? Just walk away! the voice is screaming at me, begging me to listen. Walk away and leave him alone! He's better off, why argue about it? And I almost heed it; almost turn on my heel then and there, fearful of revealing anything more than I already have. But I can't, if only for the sakes of curiosity and pride. I genuinely want to know what he thinks of me, and whether it's anything near the truth. "Well?"
He glares, looking hurt. "Why do you do this, Yuki? Make me spell out every little thing, even when you already know the answer..." He sniffles, violet eyes massive and liquid. Then he draws a breath shakily to go on: "You don't care about us, and you never have! We both know it, and that's why it 'won't work' anymore! You were happy enough to have me sleep with you until you got bored... right? And then, when it got too much, when you realised you'd... you'd m-made me fall in love with you... you couldn't get rid of me fast enough." He was crying, but he jerked his chin defiantly. "I'm not stupid, Yuki, no matter what you say. That's the truth, so don't bother lying to me."
... ... ...
... That's ... what he thinks of me...?
... ... ...
... Seriously?
I can feel anger rising up over the stunned silence inside me, and perhaps, somewhere, some small part of me tries to resist it.
The rest of me, however, is all too eager to vent some form of emotion...
"You have got to be kidding me... You little idiot!" Well, now, doesn't he look surprised? I can't believe he'd believe a single word of that! Okay, admittedly, I gave him very little indication otherwise, but still! I want to yell at him for being so unbelievably dense, for not knowing that what he had just said was absolute drivel, for saying it in the first place when less than an hour ago I'd been reduced to goddamned crying myself for the first time in years!!!
Abruptly, I realise I actually am yelling at him. I'm so sunk in disbelief and outrage that I can't even remember what I've been saying.
"... ...love with you, you brat!"
... ... ...
... Wait, what?!
I stop speaking, amazed and horribly, horribly stunned. We're staring at each other with perhaps the exact same expression, and neither of us can believe I'd really said it.
I think I'm the first to regain equilibrium. Maybe it's some form of survival instinct, or the need to maintain dignity, or just force of habit. I cough, using the excuse of searching for a cigarette to look away from him. I find one in my front pocket, quickly light it and inhale. He's still staring wordlessly as I blow out the thin, billowing stream of smoke.
"So I guess that gives me free permission to call you stupid as often as I want, as you certainly don't know any 'truth' of the matter, brat." I inhale again, waiting for a non-forthcoming reaction. Finally I shrug and turn away. Throwing the cigarette down on the floor, I begin to walk away, almost hoping he'll stop me.
But he doesn't.
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"All the lights are shinin'
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of childrens'
Laughter fills the air
And everybody's singin'
O, I hear those sleigh bells ringin'
Santa won't you bring me the one I really need?
Just bring back my baby to me!"
Mika's party is everything I thought it would be and more: bright, loud, oppressive, nerve-grating, excessive, trivial... Anyway, you get the point. I'm not happy. Big news, I know.
Shuichi isn't here, a full hour into the so called 'event'. Okay, I'll admit, not only did I expect him to run after me back there in the park, afterwards (when he didn't) I thought he'd arrive here as early as possible so he could corner me about my little... revelation, so to speak. Quite obviously, he hasn't done that either. And the urge to know why he hasn't is getting stronger.
To my right, Tatsuha drifts dazedly after the other little idiot, Ryuichi. Why a supposed adult still insists on acting like a child - to the point of dragging around that tattered rabbit doll, for God's sakes - is beyond me. What's worse is watching my brother all but drool over him. At the very least (even if I am being a tad hypocritical) I have the decency to act civilised around my own little moron.
I sigh, realising the absurdity of that train of thought, and take a sip of the sparkling champagne, all the while wishing it was something stronger.
It looks as if Tohma is being forced to restrain K, who looks as though he could quite blithely kill my dear brother. Probably because, as several other guests have now noticed, he's blatantly trailing after Ryuichi with an excessively large sprig of mistletoe. Vaguely I wonder if Mika would be mad to find Tatsuha lying dead of a gunshot wound somewhere underneath the Christmas tree...
I fight the urge to tell them all where to go. I'm so exasperated with this entire day that I just want to go home and sleep until New Year. Who in their right minds can enjoy Christmas? I ask you, in all seriousness, how -
Without warning, I suddenly find myself staring into familiar hues of violet and, yet again, I can't think of anything to say.
This time, however, he has no problem being direct. "Did you mean it?" For the first time in longer than I can remember, I can see hope in his expression as he asks that question.
I open my mouth to say something sarcastic. Again, this is probably force of habit. I don't want to answer, even though I'm pretty sure we both know the truth... well, I hope. Surely he can't be that thick! I want to cut him off, quickly escape the too-close-for-comfort conversation... but I know we'll be back at the beginning if I do. I wonder if it's still worth the effort of running from all of this, but I know the answer. I know because I saw what it did to us both.
He steps closer, seeing my hesitation. "Yuki? ...D-did you?"
I sigh, resigned. "...What do you think, brat?"
For a moment he frowns at my tone of voice. This lasts all of 0.5 seconds... I can actually describe in detail the number of facial expressions he went through after that. Truth be told, it was almost amusing.
"...R-really?!"
I don't answer. I didn't get a chance. Either he didn't care for confirmation, or he already knew my response... Either way, the prospect of me saying the three famous little words didn't seem to be powerful enough to stop him careering full-force into me, screaming my name at the top of his childish, high-pitched voice...
Champagne went everywhere, as did a few nearby Christmas decorations.
"Baka!!"
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"I don't wanna lot for Christmas
This is all I'm askin' for
I just wanna see my baby
Standin' right outside my door
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you..."
... ... ... I suppose it wasn't that bad a Christmas.
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Sakuri: Woo! Christmas! Yay!
Yuki: (speechless) O.o!
Shuichi: (still clinging to Yuki) I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!!!
Sakuri: I think it's a little OOC towards the end, but inner rants are always funny. Please review. Constructive criticism welcome - somebody can tell me if I got a character wrong/how to make it right. ^-^ Thanx!
Yuki: (glaring daggers) I hate you...... ¬.¬U
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