Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ 2/3 ❯ 2/3 ( One-Shot )

A/N: Edited...again.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hisoka, or any YnM characters (unfortunately). I just felt like I could understand him today (which somehow expressed itself in confuzzling POV...@.x). Also, this is my first (and probably only, if it flops) YnM fanfiction so please don't hurt me if it's not as accurate as it could be. I *have* the series, I just can't understand it w/o subs. ^^;

Spoilers: bits and pieces from all the anime eps.

[...] = sort of tangents... ^^; it happens, ne?

2/3
by Koyuki Aode

Rain.
Everywhere.
Around me,
on me,
in me.


Light droplets exploding against my skin, soaking my clothes and caressing my body.
Like a shower of sakura, choking me.
Like large hands, strong fingers tracing steady patterns against me.


[Heavy breathing. No voice, just breathing before I scream. I want to scream.]


He was the only one who could make me scream like that.

It's masochistic, I realize, to keep
remembering it,
dreaming of it...
loathing it.

But looking closer it's almost like I-- maybe...


Maybe.


Could I ever thank him for that?
For doing that to me?
For violating me and making me feel pain and pulling a voice out of my nearly atrophied windpipe?
For touching me and making me feel--


Making me feel.


[It's insane, I know but... Muraki is insane, isn't he? Doesn't that justify everything?]


My parents ignored me. When they weren't busy doing that, they yelled at me.

Their blows would connect with my mind or my body. Whichever felt like fighting back.

But after the first year of it, I grew desensitized.
I didn't care anymore when they locked me away; it was all the better for everyone to live in silence rather than harsh, heated unrest.
And sitting there, curled up and alone, I'd fall deeper into numbness while wondering if I still had a soul - if it was possible even without

friends,
or smiles,
or wanting to live anymore.


If I was really the demon they said I was.


[Did I ever think the same of them? Not at all. Between their anger and fear, there wasn't much thinking at all...]


Words bounced off of me, and their feelings?
Ha.
*Their* feelings.

Were all I could perceive.

I forgot how to feel on my own, and I thought maybe.. I was better for it.

Better to read a tragedy, than have it happen to you, ne?

Better not to cry, than feel that searing pain of betrayal and loss in my chest.
Better to sit still, than worry about the cold.
Better to fantasize about some hero who might come in and murder me, than wonder how terrible the next day would be.


Maybe.


That night, I'd gotten away before I could offend them somehow. I just didn't feel like sitting inside, with the arrival of Sakuramatsuri. They'd probably nab me for that, was my thinking - but I didn't care.


Not while I was free.


[The sakura petals, when drifting to their earthly death, produce a dance so hypnotic and soothing. The dizzying effect takes me away for several seconds, and the scent almost makes me smile.]


It was not a dance of moonlight and petal pink that caught my eye as I ran through the grove.
It was... Him. With that other figure, that woman.
It was a dance of pure white and crimson.


I stood frozen for a moment, not realizing that she was dead.

No, it was the metal driven through her body that mesmerized me. The


torn flesh,
spurting blood,
fade of breath.


I imagined what it might feel like.
To really die.
I tried to feel it too, with my empathy, but it was too late,

for her consciousness was gone.


And I almost cried because I couldn't.


I wanted to…


[I WANTED TO...]


Then I realized the way he set his eyes on me. And I thought for a second, foolishly, maybe...


Maybe.


It always comes back to that.


Sometimes, I think about how stupid it was not to understand what kind of danger I'd put myself in. I look back and wonder if I really was that person, how I really was that person. Other times...


If I hadn't died, finally, I would never have become a Shinigami.
I would never have met Tsuzuki.
I wouldn't have...


[If I hadn't felt pain, I wouldn't have understood again what it was to be human.]


It's frightening to think that I might not have been jealous of Hijiri, or felt sorrow for Tsubaki, or...


It's pandora's box, really.


You can't feel happy without feeling sad sometimes.
And you can't love without feeling hate sometimes.
If you have one emotion, you're bound to have the others.


Though, right now, it's sort of like having a cue light when I'm supposed to feel any given thing.

And my smile's still in the shop.
I'm working on it.
Tsuzuki's working on it.


[But - HE KILLED ME. He killed me. I want to scream it so loudly...]


I needed - Did I need?
To feel pain... So I could understand what Tsuzuki was trying to ease?
To perceive that he cared?


To understand, that at the moment in that fire - I didn't want him to give up on ME.


He was going to leave ME.


And I didn't want him to.


I wanted to save him from whatever torture he might be going through.
I wanted to save the future of

rejected sweets,
landed punches,
whiney "HISOKAAA!"s,
and actual, literal puppy-dog pouts
and huge tear-filled amethyst eyes--

Because we were both human.


How selfish of me.


[I feel so stupid when it makes me cry like this. It's all so damn confusing.]


"Friends, and smiles, and wanting to live."


I surprised myself. I didn't think I could want anything for myself again.


...I guess two out of three isn't bad.