Summary: Once more, Shuichi runs away from Yuki, unable to bear the attitude anymore. Will this time have a happy-end or are the romantic banalities over?----------------------
Author: Zebra F.
Title: Knocking On the Closed Doors
Disclaimer: standard applies
Status: In progress.
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Language andЎ hm, nothing more, except for I may seem to overuse JapaneseЎ sorry (and let me know if it is so).
Apologies: English is my second language. Japanese is my third one. Neither is native. Sorry for poor grammar and word choice.
A/N:
*thoughts* (hm, not actually thoughts, butЎ argh, youЎЇll see ^_^)
_emphasis_
//sort of flashback//
OK, kinda trite, kinda angst-y, kinda depressive picture of Shu (donЎЇt know about you, but I hate him drinking and doing other things like that)Ў The thoughts of Shuichi are a mess, yet, mind his state.
Ma:, my ever second Gravi-fic. EnjoyЎ or try to. *^__^* ~nya.
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Knocking On the Closed Doors
Chapter 1. And Here I Am
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(entirely Shuichi POV)
And here I am.
A good-for-nothing, stupid, little pest. Hee, how banal, ne? How patheticЎ
But here I am: banal and pathetic, one out of a million humdrum people, a zero-talented brat; I suddenly decided to rebel this miserable fate of mine.
And got a good slap in the face for my stupidity.
Or should I say, a good _slam_ in my face?
//A thick wooden door, which would always separate me from the only man IЎЇve ever loved, nearly conked my nose. OK, now IЎЇm going to throw this door open.//
Hee, and so I did.
//Ў°Look at me!Ў± I yell, hoping that he would notice me if I holler. IЎЇm _really_ tired of speaking to amber-eyed blonde walls.
Ў°No time for that, brat,Ў± he never glanced at my side or stopped typing some snotty soapy lines, which brought all the Nipponese onna into fierce sobs.
Demo ore wa chigau da §еo! IЎЇm not going to cry, at least not now. There should be something that can distract his mind from the screen. There should be some wayЎ
Ў°ThenЎ Then IЎЇm leaving!Ў± I try to be courageous, yet what IЎЇve actually done seems to be overbold. I feel my limbs suddenly weakening and all my body shivering from the unexpected fear my own words brought to my soul, for I know, that I wonЎЇt be able to go against the decision IЎЇve taken and announced myself, no matter how rash the resolve is. I only pray now that he would stop meЎ
Ў°DonЎЇt forget to close the doors,Ў± he simply remarks indifferently as usual and proceeds with his novel.//
Hee, and so I did.
And here I am.
Alone, shaking, slightly drunk and trying to cough my lungs out, as smoking doesnЎЇt seem to appeal to me. I disregard that and after feeling a little bit better, I inhale once more.
Oh mine, I guess I need some liquid poured into my agonizing throat.
There is nothing drinkable in this soundless and murky cheap hotel room, but I find my delight in beer IЎЇve brought with me. I take one of the cans and gulp down. Ack, it tastes bitter and I guess I hate beer, yet I donЎЇt have any choice. So, I suck in the contents of the can and feel my raw throat calm down until I continue inhaling.
When buying the cigarettes and beer I tried really hard not to choose the same brand as YukiЎЇs, for I didnЎЇt want to have anything that could tie me back to the worst nightmare of my entire life.
Nearly choking, I fling my eyes over my belongings scattered around the room. It seems that I forgot something at YukiЎЇs, but IЎЇm not going to return there. These will do. Actually, I donЎЇt think I need much right now or I ever will need. Shizukana tokoro wa ore ni totte ichiban ii daro:Ў
Maybe, IЎЇm going to quit singing. My voice doesnЎЇt appear to like nicotine smoke, so it will do. I will stop andЎ Shiranai. Demo, shinpai shinai daЎ ore no kokoro wa shisha da kara, ne, Shu-chan?
I draw out one more death holding stick and fix it between my lips, lighting the tip of it, inhaling deeply. This one seems to feel a little better, but still hurts. I ignore the pain for itЎЇs pure bliss if compared to what my soul goes through right now.
My mind starts to buzz. I hospitably let the whitish fog into my head and it clasps me in an icy and soggy grasp. I donЎЇt protest for I like it. ItЎЇs freezing, yet itЎЇs so much warmer, then the amber eyes from my definitely protracted nightmareЎ
I leap out of my doze as my cell rings. Shit, itЎЇs already beaming garishly outside. How long have I been in here?.. I glance over a good pile of empty cans and several packs of cigarettes resting near me. Fuck, my head is splitting. Yokatta, I have something left. This cigarette brings me a feel of slight relief and I reach to look at the still ringing phone.
My heart flinches and stops in shock as I check the caller id.
Yuki.
Few moments after realization hits my dizzy mind, my heart wakes up and starts to knock foolishly into the closed forever doors of my wounded chest.
No, Yuki, you yourself told me to close up and I am never more letting anyone in. Even if it is you, the only person IЎЇve ever lovedЎ and ever will.
I know it. I have decided it and IЎЇm not going to change the decision I tookЎ kedoЎ
I just stare at the phone, desperately willing to hear my blondeЎЇs voice. Yet when I think of what that voice can tell me, which names it can call me, how much it can hurt meЎ
No, Yuki. IЎЇve had right enough. IЎЇve closed the doors; and donЎЇt you ever try to knock for I will never give in anymore.
My brain orders my hand to push one little scarlet button on the cellЎЇs slender slaty body, yet my finger stops halfway, unable to do it.
And I sit, and I watch the phone to squeak on, and I just canЎЇt hang upЎ
Soon the squeaks stop, still resonating in my head though. Only now do my fingers finally clutch the cell, nearly smashing it into lifeless pieces, the shape of my newly acquired heart.
I hate to feel those sharp little things, covered with murrey blood and bleeding more unstoppably. I donЎЇt want anyone to see them. I donЎЇt want anyone to touch themЎ not again.
And I throw the key away, and I cry, and I cry even bitterer, when the phone starts chiming over againЎ
And I canЎЇt gather my strength to push the damn button, which can tell my beloved ex-lover that I have no intentions on having anything shared with him, no moreЎ
I chuckle hoarsely at myself: shared, huh? When was that you had something shared with the cold chikushoumou you loved so naively? A date which wasnЎЇt in fact his will (or did he really think your were baka enough to not notice the holes in the wall and put two and two together)? A house you were so often kicked out from? A bed you hardly ever got a chance to sleep in?
What did you ever share with that man?
Nothing, I respond hopelessly, when a sudden, absolutely forbidden, and had-to-be-buried-deep-down thought swims it way up to the surface of my wrecked mind:
*Nothing, right. Except of love.*
I donЎЇt believe it, surely. Holy shit, I seem to start talking with myself, ya knowЎ Undoubtedly, he was right in something: I am just a stupid kid after all, building up gorgeous palaces of rainbowy soap bubbles and bursting into tears when they are ruined by someoneЎЇs careless movement or absent blow.
I tried to chortle at my pathetic self ironically, yet the screech I produced was rather hystericalЎ Chi, I need some more alcohol.
And the phone did not calm down until I switched off the sound (feeling incapable of switching the devilish device off completely), and fell unconscious on the hard wooden floor, just as cold as my ex-lover wasЎ
And here I am. Drinking, smoking and finally passing out in some cheap hotel, which name I didnЎЇt even bother to remember.
Are you laughing? Disgusted? Sympathetic? Bothered? Whatever you are, fuck you. Whatever you do, fuck you. Whoever you are, it doesnЎЇt change anything. DonЎЇt try to knock, for here I am, exposed to your gibes, yet closed for your influence.
So donЎЇt even dare try sneaking inside of me ever againЎ
ЎAnd here my mind really stopped, benighted and bewildered.
And I hope it stopped forever.
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A/N: OK, itЎЇs bad, itЎЇs stupid, itЎЇs trivial, and it sucks. I know my word choice and sentence structure are poor and sometimes donЎЇt seem to convey any thoughtЎ T_T
Constructive criticism preferable. Flames acceptable. Any feedbacks welcome. Just let me know, that someone is really reading and help me to improve.
P.S. The second chapter is on its way, and I hope for moreЎ ^_^
Japanese Glossary (in order of appearance):
onna ЁC woman, women
Ў°demo ore wa chigau da yoЎ± ЁC Ў°but I am different (from them)!Ў±
Ў°shizukana tokoro wa ore ni totte ichiban ii daro:Ў± ЁC Ў°a quiet place is the best for me, isnЎЇt it?Ў±
shiranai ЁC I donЎЇt know
Ў°demo shinpai shinai daЎ± ЁC Ў°but I donЎЇt worryЎ±
Ў°ore no kokoro wa shisha da kara, ne?Ў± ЁC Ў°since my heart/soul is dead, right?Ў±
yokatta ЁC here: Thanks God
kedo ЁC but
chikushoumou ЁC son of a bitch
baka ЁC stupid, fool
chi ЎЦ shit (said with outward breath when things look bad)
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01.02.2006 в 01:36