Submission #27 -- Telescopii, "if a little dreaming is dangerous"
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Title: if a little dreaming is dangerous
Author: Telescopii
Pairing: Kakyou/Hokuto
Rating: PG
Words: 608
Summary: The best love affairs are those we never had.
Notes: The title is a quote from Marcel Proust: “If a little dreaming is dangerous, then the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all of the time.”
1.
Good night, Hokuto says, leaning over Kakyou’s shoulder. Kakyou is not as surprised to see her this time, but he still turns to look at her with wide eyes. She sits down next to him, digging her toes in the sand and rolling up her pajama bottoms away from the waves. It’s nearly sunset, and Kakyou finds the brush of her shoulders overwhelming. She’s sketching pictures and words into the sand with her fingers, and humming softly. Kakyou notices the faint shadows under her eyes and wishes (selfishly, he thinks) that he might stay here forever.
What’s it like, she asks. Dream-seeing, I mean. Waves hiss and break at her feet, and streaks of white foam linger against her skin.
It’s lonely, he answers. He used to find the confines of his dreams almost comforting, and the windows in his room have always been closed, covered and concealed.
She reaches out, takes his hand. He’s surprised by how warm it is. Let’s go somewhere else next time, she says.
2.
She falls asleep on the train somewhere just outside of Narita, clutching a bag of clothes and leaning slightly against the window. She’s had to stay at cheap hotels the last few days, stealing soaps, continental breakfasts and hours of sleep. There’s a faint trail of blood and cigarette smoke that seems just out of her reach. There’s a thread of white beads between her fingers and she does not dream.
3.
Kakyou dreams. They are in a large park (Ueno, Hokuto says), and he’s watching her clap her hands in front the shrine. He remembers visiting a shrine with his mother once when he was very young, gripping his mother’s hand tightly and walking across frost-covered grass.
It’s not spring yet, she apologizes, after. But I wanted to show you the cherry blossoms anyway.
She sits down on a bench nearby, fingertips brushing over the white beads in her pocket. Kakyou hesitates, sits down next to her. He leans forward, with his lips parted slightly. He thinks that he might tell her that he knows, that he has been waiting for the last month to tell her. He thinks that he might tell her good-bye.
She turns and smiles, instead, pressing her elbow against his side. He ducks his head, hair falling into his eyes. The smile falters, falls as Kakyou stiffens against her.
Does anything ever surprise you, she asks, then with a small laugh.
Not usually, he replies and he is aware that he is lying.
I don’t think I’d like that, she says after awhile. Her eyes are closed, and she’s resting her chin against his shoulder. I’d rather not spoil the ending.
4.
The guards find Kakyou collapsed against the steps. The gunshot wound stops bleeding by the time Kakyou is taken to the hospital and his eyes remain closed, but the faint grass stains and the streaks of dirt underneath his fingernails never fade.
5.
A few days later, Kakyou dreams. Hokuto’s sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, biting her lip and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. The IV drips connected to his arms feel heavy, and the oxygen from the mechanical ventilation is too concentrated.
I’m sorry, she starts with fingers clenched in the sheets. Please wake up. He thinks of her brother (shattered and static) and he struggles to move his fingers, fails. She watches him, and he thinks this might be first real dream that he’s ever had.
I’m awake, he whispers. She laughs then, rubbing her eyes again.
Good morning, she murmurs, and she leaves the memory of warmth against Kakyou’s skin.
Title: if a little dreaming is dangerous
Author: Telescopii
Pairing: Kakyou/Hokuto
Rating: PG
Words: 608
Summary: The best love affairs are those we never had.
Notes: The title is a quote from Marcel Proust: “If a little dreaming is dangerous, then the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all of the time.”
1.
Good night, Hokuto says, leaning over Kakyou’s shoulder. Kakyou is not as surprised to see her this time, but he still turns to look at her with wide eyes. She sits down next to him, digging her toes in the sand and rolling up her pajama bottoms away from the waves. It’s nearly sunset, and Kakyou finds the brush of her shoulders overwhelming. She’s sketching pictures and words into the sand with her fingers, and humming softly. Kakyou notices the faint shadows under her eyes and wishes (selfishly, he thinks) that he might stay here forever.
What’s it like, she asks. Dream-seeing, I mean. Waves hiss and break at her feet, and streaks of white foam linger against her skin.
It’s lonely, he answers. He used to find the confines of his dreams almost comforting, and the windows in his room have always been closed, covered and concealed.
She reaches out, takes his hand. He’s surprised by how warm it is. Let’s go somewhere else next time, she says.
2.
She falls asleep on the train somewhere just outside of Narita, clutching a bag of clothes and leaning slightly against the window. She’s had to stay at cheap hotels the last few days, stealing soaps, continental breakfasts and hours of sleep. There’s a faint trail of blood and cigarette smoke that seems just out of her reach. There’s a thread of white beads between her fingers and she does not dream.
3.
Kakyou dreams. They are in a large park (Ueno, Hokuto says), and he’s watching her clap her hands in front the shrine. He remembers visiting a shrine with his mother once when he was very young, gripping his mother’s hand tightly and walking across frost-covered grass.
It’s not spring yet, she apologizes, after. But I wanted to show you the cherry blossoms anyway.
She sits down on a bench nearby, fingertips brushing over the white beads in her pocket. Kakyou hesitates, sits down next to her. He leans forward, with his lips parted slightly. He thinks that he might tell her that he knows, that he has been waiting for the last month to tell her. He thinks that he might tell her good-bye.
She turns and smiles, instead, pressing her elbow against his side. He ducks his head, hair falling into his eyes. The smile falters, falls as Kakyou stiffens against her.
Does anything ever surprise you, she asks, then with a small laugh.
Not usually, he replies and he is aware that he is lying.
I don’t think I’d like that, she says after awhile. Her eyes are closed, and she’s resting her chin against his shoulder. I’d rather not spoil the ending.
4.
The guards find Kakyou collapsed against the steps. The gunshot wound stops bleeding by the time Kakyou is taken to the hospital and his eyes remain closed, but the faint grass stains and the streaks of dirt underneath his fingernails never fade.
5.
A few days later, Kakyou dreams. Hokuto’s sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, biting her lip and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. The IV drips connected to his arms feel heavy, and the oxygen from the mechanical ventilation is too concentrated.
I’m sorry, she starts with fingers clenched in the sheets. Please wake up. He thinks of her brother (shattered and static) and he struggles to move his fingers, fails. She watches him, and he thinks this might be first real dream that he’s ever had.
I’m awake, he whispers. She laughs then, rubbing her eyes again.
Good morning, she murmurs, and she leaves the memory of warmth against Kakyou’s skin.