(TRC) Just a little crazy, just a little insane (46. Medication)
Title: Just a little crazy, just a little insane (46. Medication)
Pairing: Kurogane/Fai
Fandom: TRC
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 1272
Notes: Beware. This seriously makes no sense. And please, never let a song fic hit me over the head again. Lyrics from Maroon 5's 'Must Get Out'.
Summary: In truth, Kurogane didn't want to see.
50 Scenes TABLE
I’ve been the needle and the thread
Weaving figure eights and circles round your head
The first time Kurogane caught Fai on the edge of the balcony, he believed that the thin man swaying on the railings had been sleepwalking. In the night, with black paint for sky and only enough stars to see Fai’s glittering, mismatched eyes, Kurogane didn’t see the long fingers fluttering, like white butterflies caught in a web.
In truth, Kurogane didn’t want to see.
I try to laugh but cry instead
Patiently wait to hear the words you’ve never said
“You have to eat,” says Kurogane, shaking Fai by the shoulders. He hasn’t eaten in a week; when he shrugs, his collarbones are painfully visible through his shirt. Black rims blue and gold as he stares and blinks, before laughing and easing out of the iron grip.
“No, Kurogane,” Fai stresses the last two syllables. “I don’t have to anymore. And you can’t make me.”
Fumbling through your dresser drawer
Forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
Kurogane was a ninja, and the use of past tense is something he still struggles with. A ninja is swift, is strong, is skillful-and above all, is stealth itself. Kurogane swears when he drops the small iron lock binding the shabby red book he dug up from beneath Fai’s mattress.
The diary is not a diary, and Kurogane knows this not because he can’t read Celesian. He knows the book is not a diray because on every page that threatens to fall out as he thumbs through it is the same crudely coloured picture of an impaled clone and a bloody princess.
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry
He knows he shouldn’t leave Fai alone at home, but groceries must be gotten somehow, and Fai seems to shrivel in sunlight. The thin-thinner, thinnest-man bleaches the minute he steps out the door, trembling harder than ever, and raspy voice uttering nothing but wispy laughter.
Kurogane expects the worst every time he comes back, eyes straining for red and ears straining for sirens. But so far, his imagination runs wild for naught, because every time Fai is always asleep-a barely visible mound beneath jumbled covers, his pills strewn all over the sheets and rolling beneath the bed.
This is not goodbye, she said
It is just time for me to rest my head
Fai is like rain on a sunny day, neither here nor there. He comes and goes, and Kurogane has learnt to let him be.
There are times, though, when Kurogane thinks it is lunacy to let the man go, because sometimes when Fai vanishes, so does a kitchen knife. Then hours later, or maybe days, Fai returns-grimy, thinner, but still intact-and curls up next to him in bed.
When Kurogane quietly slips out the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen, he sees the kitchen knife neatly slotted back into the holder, as if it had never been gone.
She does not walk, she runs instead
Down these jagged streets and into my bed
There are good days and bad days.
On good days, Fai obediently takes his pills and obliges Kurogane’s order that he eat breakfast. If Kurogane tries hard enough-sugar still does the trick, sometimes-Fai takes a mouthful of lunch and dinner. He follows Kurogane around the house, laughing at his yellow rubber gloves and babbling about this and that. Kurogane’s careful to steer the unsteady conversation away from brown-haired girls and boys, or even white pork buns at all.
On bad days, Kurogane wonders if he’s losing it too.
Fumbling through your dresser drawer
Forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
The next and last time Kurogane sees Fai’s red book is when he finds the tatters of it while looking for the man himself. The bedroom is empty, and Kurogane knows that the front door is probably unlocked, unbolted, and maybe even swinging wide open. The ripped up pieces are tangibly there, however, covering the floor like melting snow.
As he backs out the door, Kurogane winces as he treads on a small iron lock.
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry
“Mmm-hmmm, mmm dee dee dummm,” hums Fai, eyes closed and fingers trailing invisible circles above him. He opens one eye-the gold one-and looks at Kurogane lying next to him. “You’re not singing,” he accuses, and uses a thin finger to jab him in the side.
“Mmph,” Kurogane grunts, and he wonders what song Fai wants him to hum along to.
I’m lifting you up
I’m letting you down
Kurogane wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of running water. He feels for Fai in the dark, and when anxious fingers grasp nothing but cold sheets, swear words spill from his mouth.
The sight that greets him in the bathroom makes his heart stop-for the hundredth time, and counting. Fai has immersed himself in the bathtub, which is filled to the brim with the tap still running. Kurogane wades forward in ankle-deep cold water, tripping over the sodden bathroom mat, and reaches with numb hands to grab Fai out of the water. He’s about to shake him, breathe air through those thin white lips, when Fai opens his eyes of his own accord and glares at Kurogane.
“That was rude, Kuro-pi,” he pouts, and wrestles his wrist out of Kurogane’s shaking fist. “I was just trying to find out what Ashura-ou dreamed of.”
I’m dancing till dawn
I’m fooling around
For Fai’s birthday, Kurogane unearths a bottle of wine. He’s not sure if Fai should be drinking alcohol, if he’ll start meowing with an imaginary inebriated princess-then decides that finding out Fai’s true age is more worth the fretting.
I’m not giving up
I’m making your love
This city’s made us crazy and we must get out
A chance encounter with the vampire hunter’s younger brother-Fuji? Fumio? -stops the two of them in their tracks. It’s one of those days when Fai is coherent enough to tell Kurogane just how much icing sugar he wants on his waffles, and Kurogane has deemed it safe to take him out for a walk in the town square. Fuuma-Kurogane feels a surge of annoyance for some reason-smiles amiably at them.
“Hello,” he says, sunglasses perched precariously on his nose. “I haven’t seen you around for quite some time.”
“No,” Kurogane grounds out. He sees Fuuma’s eyebrows lift above his rose-tinted glasses, the man’s mouth opening to form words, and he hastily tries to cut him short. He’s not fast enough, however, and Fuuma inevitably asks, “Where’s the kid and the princess?”
There’s an astounded silence, before Fai leans forward, frowning. “Who?”
There’s only so much I can do for you
After all of the things you put me through
Ragged fingernails reach for tearing eyes, and it’s all Kurogane can do to pin him down.
“Let go of me,” Fai says, flopping sideways and wriggling like a dying fish. Kurogane naturally refuses to do so.
“Let go of me,” he repeats, hands now clawing at Kurogane’s forearm. “I killed them, I killed her.” And Fai begins to scream it over and over again under his breath, even as his fingers resume their desperate struggle.
Kurogane is surprised how easily the lie comes this time. “No. No, you didn’t.”
I’m not giving up
I’m making your love
This city’s made us crazy and we must get out
Pairing: Kurogane/Fai
Fandom: TRC
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 1272
Notes: Beware. This seriously makes no sense. And please, never let a song fic hit me over the head again. Lyrics from Maroon 5's 'Must Get Out'.
Summary: In truth, Kurogane didn't want to see.
50 Scenes TABLE
I’ve been the needle and the thread
Weaving figure eights and circles round your head
The first time Kurogane caught Fai on the edge of the balcony, he believed that the thin man swaying on the railings had been sleepwalking. In the night, with black paint for sky and only enough stars to see Fai’s glittering, mismatched eyes, Kurogane didn’t see the long fingers fluttering, like white butterflies caught in a web.
In truth, Kurogane didn’t want to see.
I try to laugh but cry instead
Patiently wait to hear the words you’ve never said
“You have to eat,” says Kurogane, shaking Fai by the shoulders. He hasn’t eaten in a week; when he shrugs, his collarbones are painfully visible through his shirt. Black rims blue and gold as he stares and blinks, before laughing and easing out of the iron grip.
“No, Kurogane,” Fai stresses the last two syllables. “I don’t have to anymore. And you can’t make me.”
Fumbling through your dresser drawer
Forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
Kurogane was a ninja, and the use of past tense is something he still struggles with. A ninja is swift, is strong, is skillful-and above all, is stealth itself. Kurogane swears when he drops the small iron lock binding the shabby red book he dug up from beneath Fai’s mattress.
The diary is not a diary, and Kurogane knows this not because he can’t read Celesian. He knows the book is not a diray because on every page that threatens to fall out as he thumbs through it is the same crudely coloured picture of an impaled clone and a bloody princess.
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry
He knows he shouldn’t leave Fai alone at home, but groceries must be gotten somehow, and Fai seems to shrivel in sunlight. The thin-thinner, thinnest-man bleaches the minute he steps out the door, trembling harder than ever, and raspy voice uttering nothing but wispy laughter.
Kurogane expects the worst every time he comes back, eyes straining for red and ears straining for sirens. But so far, his imagination runs wild for naught, because every time Fai is always asleep-a barely visible mound beneath jumbled covers, his pills strewn all over the sheets and rolling beneath the bed.
This is not goodbye, she said
It is just time for me to rest my head
Fai is like rain on a sunny day, neither here nor there. He comes and goes, and Kurogane has learnt to let him be.
There are times, though, when Kurogane thinks it is lunacy to let the man go, because sometimes when Fai vanishes, so does a kitchen knife. Then hours later, or maybe days, Fai returns-grimy, thinner, but still intact-and curls up next to him in bed.
When Kurogane quietly slips out the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen, he sees the kitchen knife neatly slotted back into the holder, as if it had never been gone.
She does not walk, she runs instead
Down these jagged streets and into my bed
There are good days and bad days.
On good days, Fai obediently takes his pills and obliges Kurogane’s order that he eat breakfast. If Kurogane tries hard enough-sugar still does the trick, sometimes-Fai takes a mouthful of lunch and dinner. He follows Kurogane around the house, laughing at his yellow rubber gloves and babbling about this and that. Kurogane’s careful to steer the unsteady conversation away from brown-haired girls and boys, or even white pork buns at all.
On bad days, Kurogane wonders if he’s losing it too.
Fumbling through your dresser drawer
Forgot what I was looking for
Try to guide me in the right direction
The next and last time Kurogane sees Fai’s red book is when he finds the tatters of it while looking for the man himself. The bedroom is empty, and Kurogane knows that the front door is probably unlocked, unbolted, and maybe even swinging wide open. The ripped up pieces are tangibly there, however, covering the floor like melting snow.
As he backs out the door, Kurogane winces as he treads on a small iron lock.
Making use of all this time
Keeping everything inside
Close my eyes and listen to you cry
“Mmm-hmmm, mmm dee dee dummm,” hums Fai, eyes closed and fingers trailing invisible circles above him. He opens one eye-the gold one-and looks at Kurogane lying next to him. “You’re not singing,” he accuses, and uses a thin finger to jab him in the side.
“Mmph,” Kurogane grunts, and he wonders what song Fai wants him to hum along to.
I’m lifting you up
I’m letting you down
Kurogane wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of running water. He feels for Fai in the dark, and when anxious fingers grasp nothing but cold sheets, swear words spill from his mouth.
The sight that greets him in the bathroom makes his heart stop-for the hundredth time, and counting. Fai has immersed himself in the bathtub, which is filled to the brim with the tap still running. Kurogane wades forward in ankle-deep cold water, tripping over the sodden bathroom mat, and reaches with numb hands to grab Fai out of the water. He’s about to shake him, breathe air through those thin white lips, when Fai opens his eyes of his own accord and glares at Kurogane.
“That was rude, Kuro-pi,” he pouts, and wrestles his wrist out of Kurogane’s shaking fist. “I was just trying to find out what Ashura-ou dreamed of.”
I’m dancing till dawn
I’m fooling around
For Fai’s birthday, Kurogane unearths a bottle of wine. He’s not sure if Fai should be drinking alcohol, if he’ll start meowing with an imaginary inebriated princess-then decides that finding out Fai’s true age is more worth the fretting.
I’m not giving up
I’m making your love
This city’s made us crazy and we must get out
A chance encounter with the vampire hunter’s younger brother-Fuji? Fumio? -stops the two of them in their tracks. It’s one of those days when Fai is coherent enough to tell Kurogane just how much icing sugar he wants on his waffles, and Kurogane has deemed it safe to take him out for a walk in the town square. Fuuma-Kurogane feels a surge of annoyance for some reason-smiles amiably at them.
“Hello,” he says, sunglasses perched precariously on his nose. “I haven’t seen you around for quite some time.”
“No,” Kurogane grounds out. He sees Fuuma’s eyebrows lift above his rose-tinted glasses, the man’s mouth opening to form words, and he hastily tries to cut him short. He’s not fast enough, however, and Fuuma inevitably asks, “Where’s the kid and the princess?”
There’s an astounded silence, before Fai leans forward, frowning. “Who?”
There’s only so much I can do for you
After all of the things you put me through
Ragged fingernails reach for tearing eyes, and it’s all Kurogane can do to pin him down.
“Let go of me,” Fai says, flopping sideways and wriggling like a dying fish. Kurogane naturally refuses to do so.
“Let go of me,” he repeats, hands now clawing at Kurogane’s forearm. “I killed them, I killed her.” And Fai begins to scream it over and over again under his breath, even as his fingers resume their desperate struggle.
Kurogane is surprised how easily the lie comes this time. “No. No, you didn’t.”
I’m not giving up
I’m making your love
This city’s made us crazy and we must get out