Just As We Are
Just a bunch of drabbles that I wanted to get on to here.
Series: Nabari No Ou
Pairing: Yoite/Miharu
Rating: From K to M
Warnings: Spoilers, explicit detail, sexual circumstance
I look at Miharu. I want to touch him, but my hands are so dirty. He looks like he's about to cry, and I can only shut my mind off from it. Or try. I promised myself I wouldn't attach myself to anything, but somehow this guy has managed to invade my barriers.
The sun is low in the sky. I can only think, 'It looks really pretty'. With Miharu by my side I wonder if I can touch it, because with Miharu I can do anything.
I can do anything.
I pull my glove on till it's taught against my dusty fingers. I have no words for Miharu, so I just put my hand to his cheek, rubbing at the soft spot next to his eyelid. He looks at me, my chest tightens, and I can't even smile for him. I wish I could, just a little. Just a little, just for him.
"Miharu," I rasp, my lungs barely breathing his name. He gives me a sweet sad smile, laying his hand over mine. and that funny turning in my stomach happens.
"Yoite. It's alright. I'll keep our promise," He tells me. He's trying to comfort me. I'm trying to figure out why my heart is palpitating.
"Hn..."
So don't worry anymore, he tells me. Don't worry anymore. I listen to him and at the same time wonder how he is capable of being softer than any pillow. My head is resting against his, and his hair is so soft. I relish that feeilng.
I think my face is covered with water, it feels wet. Oh, those are tears. I wonder if they taste salty. Miharu notices and his fingers squeeze around my hand. I promise, Yoite, he whispers. I promise.
I want to freeze time. My heartbeat would slow and would no longer thump so loudly in my chest. I wish I could taste the salt.
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"It's 11:11, make a wish, Yoite."
Yoite looked over at me, blue eyes hidden underneath the brim of his hat. "I don't." It was another one of his incoherent sentences.
Silently, I wished. I wished for Yoite.
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Watching Yoite try to make a crown out of flowers is something I never thought I'd see in life. But yet, there we were, sitting at his hideout with a handful of flowers. It had been my idea at first, having grabbed a bundle of the tiny blossoms with my sweaty fists. I had worked slowly, talking to Yoite casually while weaving the soft lavender plants into a beautiful crown.
"...What are you doing with those?" He had asked me. I told him, simply, that I was making a crown. What surprised me then was him asking if he could try. So I handed it to him, somewhat curious myself as to what he would do.
For a couple minutes he fumbled with the crown, undoing it somewhat by accident and then trying to rebuild it. But unfortunately he had no idea what he was doing, and after a few short moments he threw it back at me. I could read the pain on his face, even though he tried to mask it.
"Forget it. I can't make anything with these hands."
I knew what he was talking about. Those hands. Searching my memories I recalled how much his fingers resembled ash, his skin covered with a charcoal color. It was like a black dust had been sprinkled over his skin, staining it with its permeation. Those hands, he claimed, could only destroy. But I remember Yoite's gentle touch on my cheek, both of us suffering in our anguish. I remember how I clung to that hand and didn't want to let go. Don't die, Yoite... Was all I could think. Don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone again... Those hands, they were a balm to me.
For a moment I stared down at the crown, admiring the violet flowers for a moment. Then, quickly, I began to finish it up, weaving a couple more flowers together. "Here, Yoite," I offered, crossing over to sit down by his side. "Just tie the ends together and its done. You can do that."
For a moment, he looked at me. Then he looked down at his gloves. Then he looked nowhere.
"I...I think so."
After a few moments, he found it to be true. With the crown complete, I gave a celebratory applaud then placed the decoration on Yoite's dark hair, replacing the oversized hat that usually covered it. "Tada! It looks good on you, Yoite." I relished in how his cheeks flushed a pale pink. I liked seeing the blood rush to his face - it showed that Yoite, no matter how weak, was still alive. And that's how I liked Yoite...alive.
Alive.
My heart skipped a little and I pushed my mouth up against Yoite's, reassuring him with my lips.
This is how I like Yoite. I like him in the quiet of the summer afternoon, green trees all around the battered trains. I like him shadowed in the trees, but with freckles of light playing across his body in fragmented orbs. And I like him here, close to me, his fingers finding their way into my hair.
Yoite...I'm glad I don't have to erase you.
He can't make a crown out of flowers. But he made my 11:11 wish come true. And as he kissed me back, eyelashes tickling my cheek, my heart welled up with unspeakable feelings. I couldn't shape them. But I knew that my mind, no longer apathetic, was filled to the brim with the thoughts of Yoite. Yoite, the sun, the grass, the bamboo shoots, the crown of flowers -
I am grateful that we don't have to run anymore.
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He held on to me tightly, fingers digging into my skin. I winced. "Miharu, I...I'm not like everyone else. So please..." When he said that to me, I didn't quite understand what he meant. It wasn't until we were on the floor, clothes peeled off and cast away, until I realize what Yoite had meant.
Where there should've been a significant member, there was only a small organ. It wasn't disfigured; rather, it was almost cute, how it was flushed pink in response to our kisses. And below the member was an entrance, clearly wet. Now, I've never seen anybody's body like I saw Yoite's, so I can't compare it to anybody else in the entire world. I just know that he had a member and a small hole, and that it wasn't like anything I had.
My cheeks blushed a little from the awkwardness of us being naked, but I wasn't in the least bit disgusted. This was Yoite... I blushed even more just thinking about him. My heart ached for him. This was the secret he had been holding in all along, the shame that he had hidden underneath those layers of clothing. Nobody knew - only me. This had been his secret, his secret alone. And now, it was ours.
When I looked up into his eyes, I could see him questioning me. In those crystal orbs I could see the stark fear, the shame, and all the pain of the world pouring out of them. He was trembling with it, and I could feel his skin shaking under my fingers. Repeatedly he opened and closed his mouth, grasping for something, anything, to say to me. He searched for explanations, excuses, apologies, but he couldn't find anything to say. "Miharu, I..."
I put a finger on his lips, the corners of my lips upturned slightly. I knew what he needed. This soul, this heart had been so alone, he didn't even know who he was anymore.
"Yoite."
He is just Yoite. That's all. That's all I have to say, Yoite. The person who I seek out in my dreams, the person who makes my heart rise and plummet, is just Yoite. Yoite. No matter who Yoite is, I'll accept him. He is my other self. My other half. My...
The saltwater that slid down his cheeks alarmed me, and I put my hands up to his face in hasty efforts to stop them. I called out his name, pressing a fervent kiss on his lips. I kissed his lips, his nose, his eyelids - anything to make the tears stop. He made no sounds; he just sat there, looking at me, the water from his eyes dripping off his chin.
"Yoite, Yoite, you're just Yoite. Yoite...please, Yoite. You are Yoite...my Yoite..."
Over and over I called out his name. We sat there, on the floor, with not clothes. Nothing clothed us but skin and scars, and Yoite's eyes were glass. My hands stayed on his cheeks, digging up into his hair so I was then holding on to him. I clung to his mottled skin, delighting in his scent. I didn't care if he was different; he was all I knew, and he was all I could love in this world.
"Miharu..."
He was now looking at me. His ashy hands clasped over the ones I held to his face, and his cheeks turned slightly red. Under my fingers I could feel the muscles in his skin tense as his lips curved upward. The tears were still there, but in his eyes I saw something.
Heat on heat and skin on skin, I never knew Yoite could be so warm. We both knew - without saying anything - that if we were going to do this (how did this even start?) that I'd have to be in control. I didn't want to, I didn't plan to. But even before the clothes were off and our skin was close, I knew that we'd have to do this.
A sharp enhale. Breathe. Keep it calm...don't scare Yoite. Don't hurt him.
My fingers were trembling butterflies, I couldn't stop moving and touching Yoite's skin. IhadtotouchYoiteIhadtotasteYoite - I kissed his mouth soundly, then his eyelids, his neck, his chest. No, it wasn't strange when Yoite watched me. He didn't move. He didn't respond - nor did I expect him to. Gentle kisses are like small flutters to him (and soon I would begin to kiss him more strongly, roughly, just so he could feel that skin-itching sensation).