(no subject)
Yep. Another story. This one's called I am waiting. Enjoy (hopefully)
I am waiting.
In vain, I know, but I will wait nonetheless. Eyes like coal dare me to leave my self-appointed prison, watch as he waits from me to give up, but I will not.
I have not come this far for him to win now. An hour and a half has passed. Two more hours pass. I dare not blink for fear that I would miss it.
Strange, how I-who has never had much patience for anything-can so calmly await the coming for something I know will never come.
He is immortal. This must feel like but a second to him, but I am not, and it does not. But nonetheless…
I will wait.
You can leave at anytime, he offers. An odd thing for my kidnapper to say, but I know why. My purpose has been served; I was merely the bait, and I have fulfilled my role. He doesn’t need me, anymore.
I reply, as dry and flat as I can make my voice, that I will stay. He shrugs, but by the twitch in his eyebrow, I know that he is severely annoyed. It would be comical, if the situation weren’t so important.
To me, anyways. This is just a game for him.
As another distraction, he mentions my wounds. Superficial cuts and bruises, due to the rough handing of his clumsy human associates. I shrug, and try not to grimace as I irritate the cracked rib on my left side.
Superficial. Nothing more, I whisper determinedly to myself. He hears. And smirks because he thinks that I am that much closer to giving up. Over two thousand years old and still a fool.
But as the blood pools around my bare and scratched feet, I silently concede that my injuries may present a minor problem. In a joke that is not really a joke, and not funny at all, I say-to break the heavy silence, which is so unlike him-that if I die, at least I can see my Uncle.
He doesn’t laugh, or smile, or even smirk now. All he does tap his foot impatiently against the stone ground, the noise echoing in empty parking lot. He is annoyed with me, I know. For bringing up the subject of Uncle, which has always been a sore spot with him.
At this point, do I really care?
We lapse into silence again.
A foolish part of me still holds on to the ridiculous hope that Daisuke will come to get me, to save me. But, really, who am I kidding? Daisuke’s no knight in shining armor, and I’m certainly no damsel in distress.
With his inherent clumsiness and bumbling ways, I would be amazed if he were still alive. Fool. He never should have fallen for it. He knows that I can take care of myself. But he still has to come rushing in, and where will that land him?
Probably down meeting my Uncle right now, even as I wait.
Daisuke, I want to say to him, you better come here soon. Daisuke, I want to scream, why did you come? Daisuke, I pray, please be alive.
Come home, he says drawing me back to reality, barely audible, but he knows that I’ll hear. Come home and your Otou-sama will forgive you.
Tempting, I want to say back, but why would I come back to the family who forced me into this situation? I want to let loose every sarcastic reply, every single taunt I know will hit its mark, but I calm myself, hold back the bitterness, the anger, and simply shake my head.
I wait, and I stubbornly refuse to give into the numbness that threatens to take over my limbs. Blood loss. I hadn’t realized the cuts were this deep. But it doesn’t matter. My eyes stay fixed on the open doorway, thinking Daisuke will have to climb three flights of stairs to reach me.
Will he be able to?
A heavy jacket-black leather, and I almost smile because that is just so typically him-is carefully draped around my shoulder, mindful of the huge bruise my upper arm. Almost reluctant, I shrug it off, barely holding back the hiss of pain-that damned rib again-but I have come this far without his help, I won’t start accepting it now.
By this time, even he will have noticed that I am no condition to be refusing any help. Breathing is an arduous task, and I have to remind myself that it necessary. Perhaps that rib-or ribs, it’s beginning to feel like-is broken, and not cracked. Of course, the lethargy that comes with blood loss is starting to set in, and it’s ridiculous how much concentration it takes to keep myself awake.
Come soon, Daisuke. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.
Give up, he says, more pleadingly than before, but I can’t. I won’t give up. Not until I see that Daisuke is alive and staying that way. Shakily, I stand up, fighting against the dizzy feeling.
Slowly, I limp towards the doorway and the stairs. If that idiot is too lazy to come get me, than I’ll just have to come to him. And I’m going to make him pay for making me wait so long.
A month-no, two-of chores, I think, planning out his punishment. And a very expensive dinner. Not to mention a movie-a foreign film-and this time, I don’t care how much he hates subtitles.
Of course, I may be counting my chickens before they hatch.
A dark head of hair, and that has to be him; I’m running down the stairs now, and the pain doesn’t matter at all now. But it’s already gone, and I realize it’s just a hallucination before I collapse, my weak legs rebelling.
Even if I want to wait, I can’t, not in this weak body.
Susano-o, I choke out, closing my eyes at last. He perks up at the sound of my voice, knowing he’s finally won. Take my back to Otou-sama. Tell him that I…
I know what to tell him, he interrupts, then adds-trying, and failing miserably, to cheer me up-And that’s Onii-chan, to you.
Chan, cause he hasn’t grown up at all, in all the centuries I’ve known him. He sweeps me into his huge arms, as if I weighed nothing, and I fall asleep.
~(~)~
Daisuke made his way up the stairs slowly, but steadily. He knew-no matter how much he wanted to-rushing would only ruin things. He was already running on fumes, tired from the huge cat and mouse game they had made for him. Not to mention the broken arm-he gritted his teeth, she would take care of him later, he just had to get up the stairs-and the sprained ankle.
One more step, he repeated over and over again, until he was halfway up the second flight of stairs. But his ankle was weak, a traitor, and gave out on him. He fell, landing hard on his knee-another bruise to add to the collection-tired, he rested there for a moment. And in his worn-out mind, he imagined that he heard her voice, heartbroken, asking her brother to take her home.
But it must have been his imagination, because Daisuke knew, he knew that she would never willingly leave him. She’d promised. And she always kept her promises.
Like when they first met, when he had slipped into the freezing river, she’d promise to help him, and she did. Like when she promised to meet him again. Like when she promised she would give up her immortality for him.
She wouldn’t leave him. He had come this far; past human mobsters-and nearly got a bullet in the leg as a parting gift-, a thunder demon-who gave him that nasty burn on his arm-, and a sadistic wind god-who toyed with him for an hour, inflicting countless cuts.
Not to say that he defeated them, or even hurt them very much-except for the guy whom he smashed a chair over-but he got past them and that was all that mattered.
Daisuke pushed himself up with his one good arm, wincing, and continued to painfully make his way up the stairs. Just in time to see her, asleep, in her brother’s arms as Susano-o took her away from him.
Took her someplace he would never be able to reach, he knew.
Daisuke fell to his knees, once more, and didn’t bother to pick himself up.
TBC…(if I feel like it)
And yes, I know how much I just screwed up Japanese mythology.
I am waiting.
In vain, I know, but I will wait nonetheless. Eyes like coal dare me to leave my self-appointed prison, watch as he waits from me to give up, but I will not.
I have not come this far for him to win now. An hour and a half has passed. Two more hours pass. I dare not blink for fear that I would miss it.
Strange, how I-who has never had much patience for anything-can so calmly await the coming for something I know will never come.
He is immortal. This must feel like but a second to him, but I am not, and it does not. But nonetheless…
I will wait.
You can leave at anytime, he offers. An odd thing for my kidnapper to say, but I know why. My purpose has been served; I was merely the bait, and I have fulfilled my role. He doesn’t need me, anymore.
I reply, as dry and flat as I can make my voice, that I will stay. He shrugs, but by the twitch in his eyebrow, I know that he is severely annoyed. It would be comical, if the situation weren’t so important.
To me, anyways. This is just a game for him.
As another distraction, he mentions my wounds. Superficial cuts and bruises, due to the rough handing of his clumsy human associates. I shrug, and try not to grimace as I irritate the cracked rib on my left side.
Superficial. Nothing more, I whisper determinedly to myself. He hears. And smirks because he thinks that I am that much closer to giving up. Over two thousand years old and still a fool.
But as the blood pools around my bare and scratched feet, I silently concede that my injuries may present a minor problem. In a joke that is not really a joke, and not funny at all, I say-to break the heavy silence, which is so unlike him-that if I die, at least I can see my Uncle.
He doesn’t laugh, or smile, or even smirk now. All he does tap his foot impatiently against the stone ground, the noise echoing in empty parking lot. He is annoyed with me, I know. For bringing up the subject of Uncle, which has always been a sore spot with him.
At this point, do I really care?
We lapse into silence again.
A foolish part of me still holds on to the ridiculous hope that Daisuke will come to get me, to save me. But, really, who am I kidding? Daisuke’s no knight in shining armor, and I’m certainly no damsel in distress.
With his inherent clumsiness and bumbling ways, I would be amazed if he were still alive. Fool. He never should have fallen for it. He knows that I can take care of myself. But he still has to come rushing in, and where will that land him?
Probably down meeting my Uncle right now, even as I wait.
Daisuke, I want to say to him, you better come here soon. Daisuke, I want to scream, why did you come? Daisuke, I pray, please be alive.
Come home, he says drawing me back to reality, barely audible, but he knows that I’ll hear. Come home and your Otou-sama will forgive you.
Tempting, I want to say back, but why would I come back to the family who forced me into this situation? I want to let loose every sarcastic reply, every single taunt I know will hit its mark, but I calm myself, hold back the bitterness, the anger, and simply shake my head.
I wait, and I stubbornly refuse to give into the numbness that threatens to take over my limbs. Blood loss. I hadn’t realized the cuts were this deep. But it doesn’t matter. My eyes stay fixed on the open doorway, thinking Daisuke will have to climb three flights of stairs to reach me.
Will he be able to?
A heavy jacket-black leather, and I almost smile because that is just so typically him-is carefully draped around my shoulder, mindful of the huge bruise my upper arm. Almost reluctant, I shrug it off, barely holding back the hiss of pain-that damned rib again-but I have come this far without his help, I won’t start accepting it now.
By this time, even he will have noticed that I am no condition to be refusing any help. Breathing is an arduous task, and I have to remind myself that it necessary. Perhaps that rib-or ribs, it’s beginning to feel like-is broken, and not cracked. Of course, the lethargy that comes with blood loss is starting to set in, and it’s ridiculous how much concentration it takes to keep myself awake.
Come soon, Daisuke. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.
Give up, he says, more pleadingly than before, but I can’t. I won’t give up. Not until I see that Daisuke is alive and staying that way. Shakily, I stand up, fighting against the dizzy feeling.
Slowly, I limp towards the doorway and the stairs. If that idiot is too lazy to come get me, than I’ll just have to come to him. And I’m going to make him pay for making me wait so long.
A month-no, two-of chores, I think, planning out his punishment. And a very expensive dinner. Not to mention a movie-a foreign film-and this time, I don’t care how much he hates subtitles.
Of course, I may be counting my chickens before they hatch.
A dark head of hair, and that has to be him; I’m running down the stairs now, and the pain doesn’t matter at all now. But it’s already gone, and I realize it’s just a hallucination before I collapse, my weak legs rebelling.
Even if I want to wait, I can’t, not in this weak body.
Susano-o, I choke out, closing my eyes at last. He perks up at the sound of my voice, knowing he’s finally won. Take my back to Otou-sama. Tell him that I…
I know what to tell him, he interrupts, then adds-trying, and failing miserably, to cheer me up-And that’s Onii-chan, to you.
Chan, cause he hasn’t grown up at all, in all the centuries I’ve known him. He sweeps me into his huge arms, as if I weighed nothing, and I fall asleep.
~(~)~
Daisuke made his way up the stairs slowly, but steadily. He knew-no matter how much he wanted to-rushing would only ruin things. He was already running on fumes, tired from the huge cat and mouse game they had made for him. Not to mention the broken arm-he gritted his teeth, she would take care of him later, he just had to get up the stairs-and the sprained ankle.
One more step, he repeated over and over again, until he was halfway up the second flight of stairs. But his ankle was weak, a traitor, and gave out on him. He fell, landing hard on his knee-another bruise to add to the collection-tired, he rested there for a moment. And in his worn-out mind, he imagined that he heard her voice, heartbroken, asking her brother to take her home.
But it must have been his imagination, because Daisuke knew, he knew that she would never willingly leave him. She’d promised. And she always kept her promises.
Like when they first met, when he had slipped into the freezing river, she’d promise to help him, and she did. Like when she promised to meet him again. Like when she promised she would give up her immortality for him.
She wouldn’t leave him. He had come this far; past human mobsters-and nearly got a bullet in the leg as a parting gift-, a thunder demon-who gave him that nasty burn on his arm-, and a sadistic wind god-who toyed with him for an hour, inflicting countless cuts.
Not to say that he defeated them, or even hurt them very much-except for the guy whom he smashed a chair over-but he got past them and that was all that mattered.
Daisuke pushed himself up with his one good arm, wincing, and continued to painfully make his way up the stairs. Just in time to see her, asleep, in her brother’s arms as Susano-o took her away from him.
Took her someplace he would never be able to reach, he knew.
Daisuke fell to his knees, once more, and didn’t bother to pick himself up.
TBC…(if I feel like it)
And yes, I know how much I just screwed up Japanese mythology.