Fan Fiction ❯ Kakawarazu Oshi (In Spite of Authority) ❯ Kokoro no Hinote ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Violet_Nyte 
Fourth arc: Completing the events of the first arc
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.15.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 177 | Status: Work In Progress
Fourth arc: Completing the events of the first arc
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.15.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 177 | Status: Work In Progress
LSE // 6-29-02
(Kokoro no Hinote - Blaze of the Heart)
rated: PG-13 adult language and content
shounen-ai/yaoi
(taking place AFTER Kakawarazu Oshi)
Kokoro no Hinote
"I can't believe I did that. Oh, my lord, Yas...I fired Yukari! One of
the best agents. I scewed myself, didn't I? Don't bother sugar
coating it, oh, oh I'm fucked..."
"Kim...I'm proud of you. I never liked Yukari, shes a total bitch.
Cheer up, so what if you're singing image might be tarnished? I mean,
fuck them if they can't handle you the way you are!"
Kimura stopped pacing, looking up from the path worn into the carpet,
"So what?!" He repeated, voice rising several octaves, "it's only my
image, right? It's not like my entire fucking career is based on
image! Yes, let's fuck the fans! Screw you, fans!" He screeched,
heading for the balcony.
Yasun quickly moved aside, not liking the rage Kimura had worked
himself up into, but maybe the younger man needed to vent a little.
He hung back, unsure of what to do as Kimura grabbed the railing
stared out at the Tokyo skyline. "You're more than just an image,
Kim."
"Screw you!" He screamed down at the pedestrians and busy streets
below. The wind whipped his words harmlessly away, but a few people,
twenty-five stories below, glanced up, but just as quickly ignored
whatever they had heard.
"I don't need you! I have talent! I am more than just a pretty face!"
Then, he heard it. Laughing. They were mocking him, they knew what he
was shouting was false. Everyone knew Kim was nothing more than a pop
idol. Blue-black hair fluttered freely in the wind as he looked down,
leaning over the railing to get a better view. Yukari was right, she
was always right. Damn her. Damn them all.
Hot tears prickled behind his eyes, but he shoved them aside with a
fresh wave of anger. How dare they laugh at him! "I can hear you..."
he muttered, turning from the balcony, "I know what you're saying."
"Eh?" Yasun blinked, "What'd you say?"
Kimura ignored him, storming across the apartment and heading for the
door. Yasun trailed behind him, shooting off concern like crazy. Where
did Kim think he was going this late, and in a bathrobe to boot! The
frail, young man looked ready to kill, which was a frightening
prospect for Yasun to realize. What is he thinking? Yasun asked
himself.
Actually, Kimura wasn't thinking. At least, not logically. He started
for the elevator, then remembered it was broke and raised a hand to
push the stair door open. At the same time, someone on the other side
tried the same thing. Kimura dimly registered surprise at a resisting
force and stopped pushing, resulting in the door swinging full out
into his face. He heard the crack of bone against door and then again
as head hit the marble floor, and then there was darkness.
-------------------------------------------------------- --------------
Colors swam before his closed eyelids in a blinding array as he
slowly crawled towards conciousness. He could hear two voices in
pitched arguement. One he recognized as Yasun, the other must be
the neighbor who'd swung the door into him. Kimura finally locked
together the final pieces of awareness together and cautiously opened
his eyes, wincing slightly as twin pains to his head burned fiercely.
"Fujimi-san, I'm terribly sorry," the neighbor cried, seeing him
wake, "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly," he managed through teeth clenched against the pain. He
was mildly surprised to find himself being carried into the apartment,
but took comfort in the fimiliar warmth of Yasun's broad chest, which
he was being cradled against.
"Well, thank you for your concerns Satomori-san, good night," Yasun
said none to nicely, closing the door with a hip.
Kimura felt his stomache flip-flop at the under current in Yasun's
usually gentle voice. He sounded pissed. Through the haze of agony,
he dimly recalled the moments leading up to the spectacular meeting
with the door, and floor. He reached up and tenderly felt his
forehead, expecting more damage than the slight swell of abused
flesh. Running the hand through his hair, Kimura winced as he felt
the glorious bump on the back of his head.
"You're lucky you didn't crack your head open," Yasun growled,
tempted to just throw Kimura onto the sofa, "What were you thinking
you were going to do, running out like that?"
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, genuinely feeling shamed for his actions.
Stalking off to the kitchen, Yasun shortly returned with a damp cloth
and a bag of ice. "Here." He shuffled around a bit, then finally
settled on sitting in his chair. Kimura looked so miserable it made
himself feel guilty for his anger, however justified. "You should see
a doctor. What if you managed to give yourself a concussion?" He
couldn't keep the anger from his voice.
"I"m alright," Kimura said, laying down on the bag of ice and draping
the cloth across his forehead. Yasun couldn't see his face, since it
was turned slightly to the back of the sofa, but he could hear the
man's voice catch.
"Don't..." Yasun eased his weight onto the sofa, and Kimura tried to
hide his tears. "It's okay, Kim. I'm not mad at you." He wasn't
anymore, anger was just a way to hide the heart-stopping terror
that'd gripped his heart whe Kimura'd fallen. He gently gathered the
other man to him a hug, "It's okay."
"You're not angry...?" Kimura sniffed patheticly, trying to keep
fromself from full-out crying. He didn't see why Yasun put up with it.
"Because I love you, baka," Yasun said softly, and it was then Kimura
realized he's said his musings out loud.
Laughing slightly, Kimura fiercely returned the hug he was recieving.
"You just feel sorry for me."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes: Yes, yes, I know it's short...Makes more sense if
you read "Kakawarazu Oshi" so I suppose this is kinda sequel to that
story. Kimura's last name is Fujimi, the neighbor is saying Mr.Fujimi.
baka = idiot
original story copyright 2002
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
violetnyte.fallenweb.net
(Kokoro no Hinote - Blaze of the Heart)
rated: PG-13 adult language and content
shounen-ai/yaoi
(taking place AFTER Kakawarazu Oshi)
Kokoro no Hinote
"I can't believe I did that. Oh, my lord, Yas...I fired Yukari! One of
the best agents. I scewed myself, didn't I? Don't bother sugar
coating it, oh, oh I'm fucked..."
"Kim...I'm proud of you. I never liked Yukari, shes a total bitch.
Cheer up, so what if you're singing image might be tarnished? I mean,
fuck them if they can't handle you the way you are!"
Kimura stopped pacing, looking up from the path worn into the carpet,
"So what?!" He repeated, voice rising several octaves, "it's only my
image, right? It's not like my entire fucking career is based on
image! Yes, let's fuck the fans! Screw you, fans!" He screeched,
heading for the balcony.
Yasun quickly moved aside, not liking the rage Kimura had worked
himself up into, but maybe the younger man needed to vent a little.
He hung back, unsure of what to do as Kimura grabbed the railing
stared out at the Tokyo skyline. "You're more than just an image,
Kim."
"Screw you!" He screamed down at the pedestrians and busy streets
below. The wind whipped his words harmlessly away, but a few people,
twenty-five stories below, glanced up, but just as quickly ignored
whatever they had heard.
"I don't need you! I have talent! I am more than just a pretty face!"
Then, he heard it. Laughing. They were mocking him, they knew what he
was shouting was false. Everyone knew Kim was nothing more than a pop
idol. Blue-black hair fluttered freely in the wind as he looked down,
leaning over the railing to get a better view. Yukari was right, she
was always right. Damn her. Damn them all.
Hot tears prickled behind his eyes, but he shoved them aside with a
fresh wave of anger. How dare they laugh at him! "I can hear you..."
he muttered, turning from the balcony, "I know what you're saying."
"Eh?" Yasun blinked, "What'd you say?"
Kimura ignored him, storming across the apartment and heading for the
door. Yasun trailed behind him, shooting off concern like crazy. Where
did Kim think he was going this late, and in a bathrobe to boot! The
frail, young man looked ready to kill, which was a frightening
prospect for Yasun to realize. What is he thinking? Yasun asked
himself.
Actually, Kimura wasn't thinking. At least, not logically. He started
for the elevator, then remembered it was broke and raised a hand to
push the stair door open. At the same time, someone on the other side
tried the same thing. Kimura dimly registered surprise at a resisting
force and stopped pushing, resulting in the door swinging full out
into his face. He heard the crack of bone against door and then again
as head hit the marble floor, and then there was darkness.
-------------------------------------------------------- --------------
Colors swam before his closed eyelids in a blinding array as he
slowly crawled towards conciousness. He could hear two voices in
pitched arguement. One he recognized as Yasun, the other must be
the neighbor who'd swung the door into him. Kimura finally locked
together the final pieces of awareness together and cautiously opened
his eyes, wincing slightly as twin pains to his head burned fiercely.
"Fujimi-san, I'm terribly sorry," the neighbor cried, seeing him
wake, "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly," he managed through teeth clenched against the pain. He
was mildly surprised to find himself being carried into the apartment,
but took comfort in the fimiliar warmth of Yasun's broad chest, which
he was being cradled against.
"Well, thank you for your concerns Satomori-san, good night," Yasun
said none to nicely, closing the door with a hip.
Kimura felt his stomache flip-flop at the under current in Yasun's
usually gentle voice. He sounded pissed. Through the haze of agony,
he dimly recalled the moments leading up to the spectacular meeting
with the door, and floor. He reached up and tenderly felt his
forehead, expecting more damage than the slight swell of abused
flesh. Running the hand through his hair, Kimura winced as he felt
the glorious bump on the back of his head.
"You're lucky you didn't crack your head open," Yasun growled,
tempted to just throw Kimura onto the sofa, "What were you thinking
you were going to do, running out like that?"
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, genuinely feeling shamed for his actions.
Stalking off to the kitchen, Yasun shortly returned with a damp cloth
and a bag of ice. "Here." He shuffled around a bit, then finally
settled on sitting in his chair. Kimura looked so miserable it made
himself feel guilty for his anger, however justified. "You should see
a doctor. What if you managed to give yourself a concussion?" He
couldn't keep the anger from his voice.
"I"m alright," Kimura said, laying down on the bag of ice and draping
the cloth across his forehead. Yasun couldn't see his face, since it
was turned slightly to the back of the sofa, but he could hear the
man's voice catch.
"Don't..." Yasun eased his weight onto the sofa, and Kimura tried to
hide his tears. "It's okay, Kim. I'm not mad at you." He wasn't
anymore, anger was just a way to hide the heart-stopping terror
that'd gripped his heart whe Kimura'd fallen. He gently gathered the
other man to him a hug, "It's okay."
"You're not angry...?" Kimura sniffed patheticly, trying to keep
fromself from full-out crying. He didn't see why Yasun put up with it.
"Because I love you, baka," Yasun said softly, and it was then Kimura
realized he's said his musings out loud.
Laughing slightly, Kimura fiercely returned the hug he was recieving.
"You just feel sorry for me."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes: Yes, yes, I know it's short...Makes more sense if
you read "Kakawarazu Oshi" so I suppose this is kinda sequel to that
story. Kimura's last name is Fujimi, the neighbor is saying Mr.Fujimi.
baka = idiot
original story copyright 2002
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
violetnyte.fallenweb.net