rime-cracking-falling-freezing
Title: rime-cracking-falling-freezing
Chapter: 1/1
Rating: PG
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha
Summary: Where autumn morphs into winter morphs into spring -- on a cold October day.
❄
Scatters of meek raindrops fall softly while bleak grey is splayed across the sky, frosty wind caressing the air. The autumn chill is almost too much for these thin sweaters to bear; it’s cold and Yuu shivers, but when he sees him he thinks, maybe he’s much colder where he is, because those umber orbs radiate no light and no heat. At least Yuu has a heater at home and a couple of thicker jackets for the winters.
It’s warmer in here, where expensive amps heat the air with distortion and overdrive, where drumbeats shake the still air and a voice growls. But around him, Yuu sees, there’s premature snowflakes hanging off eyelashes and ice white feathers of frosted memories tickling the pale skin. Still his eyes are dull. Yuu’s heart stops beating for a moment each time he hears him play a tune -- made up of frostbite melancholy in power chords and riffs.
Outside the clouds grow gloomier and the rain falls heavier, but certainly they’re not grieving -- they're oblivious. The heavy clouds can't see anything from that high, and the raindrops fall mindlessly -- no, they’re not grieving -- can’t be; Yuu thinks their ignorance is a mockery, a complete insult, and here he hates them for it. Winter’s not here yet, but he’s positive there’s already a blizzard raging inside the recording studio as he watches honey-blond hair hang loosely off him -- unstyled. (He never leaves the house with his hair unstyled, Yuu knows.)
Sometimes Yuu wonders if it was her soul that was taken and not his. He met the elderly lady before, and twice times she had glowed with the radiance of a nova and smiled like the stars -- her aura of joy and bright countenance deeply etched in his mind and he knows that at least somewhere, somewhere deep inside, she still lives (in memories). But he sees him and he sees those hollow eyes and thinning frame; the laughter lines on his face fading slowly while his skin grows paler, and Yuu thinks -- he’s disappearing.
Fear strikes through Yuu, because that thick barrier of grey isolation is too cold for Yuu to penetrate. He can only watch from afar, see through the thickening glaciers -- but it’s blurry and the longer he stares, the more the image fades.
❅
They’re granted a ten-minute break, and then he’s walking out. Yuu opens his mouth to ask where he’s going, but his words are lost and only silence tumbles past chapped lips; instead, Yuu trudges after him quietly as the reddened maple leaves fall (-- and maybe snow’s falling too). He watches the heavy footsteps weighed down by sorrow but marvels at its silence -- as if he’s floating and not walking; Yuu can only hear his own footsteps and his own heartbeat. (like there's no one else here -- but then again, maybe there isn't.)
Yuu suddenly realizes that they’re at the lounge (when did they get here?) and vending machines tower over them with their piercing glares of drinks -- latte, mocha, cappuccino, iced lemon tea. He vaguely registers a whispered offer of a coffee, but he doesn’t -- can't -- reply -- he’s too immersed (entranced) in that tear-stained aura. He’s been always bad with words, always saying the wrong things at the wrong times. He doesn’t want to say anything now, because if he does he might just shatter this moment and Kouyou would be lost-lost-lost forever. He only nods with clenched teeth.
He is surprised when Kouyou speaks, but his heart almost freezes at the hoarse voice.
“I miss her.”
Yuu has never been good with handling emotions either -- he always scatters tearful stardust (often unwelcome and unbelonging) -- so he bites his lip and forces out,
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s no one left for me anymore, is there?”
Yuu feels graupel being shoved down his throat and suddenly he’s remembering that Kouyou talks so much about her
-- needs her that much
-- depends so much on her
-- otherwise he’s lost in this labyrinth
-- this cruel world --
Yuu opens his mouth to say something, to say no-there’ll-always-be-people-here-and --
words are lost.
Instead, he says,
“I’m sorry.”
Kouyou sighs and saunters back to the recording studio, and the halls echo a deathly silence. Yuu holds his breath as the air is mixed with the aroma of coffee, and he prays --
-- that Kouyou’ll be fine, because his mother will watch over him.
Please --
❆
Maybe time froze itself -- maybe the world stopped turning -- or maybe Yuu's mind simply became a blank white, because this -- this was -- absurd --
Yuu’s eyes widens and he almost sees hail falling into the recording studio. (Where the hell is Kai -- and Ruki -- and Reita?!) Tributaries of ice-cold tears streak down those porcelain cheeks and fuck, Yuu’s heart has never heard such choked sobs before -- and he can’t stand it. (Because he has never seen Kouyou cry; not once.)
He reaches past the broken guitar on the floor to the kneeling guitarist and when he touches Kouyou’s shoulder, his heart quivers -- he’s never felt something this fragile -- breakable -- broken -- before; it’s terrifying.
Kouyou looks up, and Yuu doesn’t know what to think -- those greyed eyes and blood-red lips and dry skin -- because this isn’t Kouyou anymore.
“They’re all in the meeting room.” Those lips move, but Yuu doesn’t recognise the voice -- it’s deep and hoarse and drowned in sorrow and not-him. “Not here.”
“I -- ” His mind spins, and Yuu forgets about the monthly meetings that happen to be today; instead he wraps his arms around those trembling shoulders. “ -- want to see you.”
-- to see that you’re still you and not --
broken --
like this --
Yuu doesn’t think anymore -- because there’s nothing left to think about. (since Kouyou is already -- gone --) He presses his lips to Kouyou’s and stays like that -- pressing -- not moving -- just pressing.
His mind is whirling and he’s afraid that he’ll be pushed away -- but if he is, at least he’ll know that Kouyou’s still there -- but... (Yuu doesn’t complete the sentence -- doesn’t want to)
He doesn’t realise that there are lithe fingers in his hair and that his lips aren’t the only ones moving now (when did they start moving --?) until he finds that he’s clutching the other too tightly; he feels bones jutting into his fingertips and tensed muscles and suddenly he can’t find the ice anymore -- he can only sense melted flurry.
There’s a sigh against his mouth and they pull apart, but Yuu notices that Kouyou’s fingers are still in his hair and he’s still cradling the other -- a little less gently now.
And for the first time in weeks, those auburn locks glow and the younger’s face lights up in a candlelight incandescence -- and for a moment Yuu can almost see the grey orbs morphing into chocolate again.
“Why did you want to see me?” Yuu’s heart leaps -- Kouyou’s lips curl into a weak smile.
“Because --” He’s awestruck by the change -- it’s like seeing a pool of ice melt to reveal a meadow (full of green grass and colourful flowers) -- breathtaking. “-- you’re lonely.”
He traces the Kouyou’s jawline and the younger lets out a sigh. Yuu’s fingertips tingle and his heart almost bursts when he feels the contours of Kouyou’s skin shift upwards -- in a smile.
“I’m not lonely.” Kouyou whispers -- and stars burst into Yuu’s vision. “Not anymore.”
Yuu doesn’t know what else to say, so he does the only thing he knows he can do.
He kisses Kouyou again.
And this time it’s different -- because he’s smiling and so is Kou, they’re both crying, and Yuu can taste spring on Kouyou’s plush, full lips -- while the last maple leaf outside falls and winter begins to set in.
***
A/N: Whoopwhoop! This is a new style I adopted recently thanks to the HUGE stack of Haruki Murakami's books I have piled up on top of my piano. (My shelf is too full) He's such a great author, the books are wonderful! Nowadays my nose has been buried in thick novels more often than Echofon/Mobile Twitter/MoTweets or the computer; and to think, just a few months ago I would throw any novel you give me out of the window. (I hate reading novels. I've only liked classics, until I found my friend reading intently next to her double bass one day during practice, and she convinced me to read Murakami's books.) If you haven't already read his books, I ~highly~ urge you to go do so quick! His books are magical. Oh gosh.
And uhm, on a sidenote, I'm hoping I can reorganise my LJ, it's in such a mess! >.< Anyone knows where I can get another layout? Not saying that my current layout isn't nice, but I feel bad for having only Uruha and ostracizing the rest... Or rather, I'm ostracizing Uruha... Sigh.
Anyway, (back to the point) I hope you've enjoyed this oneshot! And let me know what you guys think of this style, yeah? It'll be much appreciated! ♥