Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Fushigi Yuugi. It’s not mine; it’s property of Yu Watase and other people that I am too lazy to list. But I do happen to own Amiboshi and Suboshi. Yes, they ARE mine. Mine I tell you **hiss** MINE! I own-- What are these strange men doing in my room?! AaaaA~AaAaaAAh! LET GO OF ME YOU BRUTE! **Is dragged away in a straight jacket by men in white suits**

Pairing: Amiboshi and Suboshi

Summary: The scene where Suboshi force-feeds Amiboshi the potion of forgetfulness.

A/N: Some might say this is twincest, some might disagree. Me, you ask? I’m partial; I really don’t know. Either way works for me. But this is kind of from Amiboshi’s POV… So we will never know if Suboshi really wanted to kiss his aniki or not… Or if that was the only way he could give Amiboshi the potion. Maybe it can be a sequel…

All It Took

By: DrAcOxNoCtEm

            “No…”

            He looked imploringly up at the young man kneeling in front of him with a sort of pained expression on his face. Striking hazel eyes widened a bit in shock as a fine brow knitted together. Wisps of golden spun silk fell forward down into those eyes, slightly obscuring the blue headband resting on his forehead. A multitude of different emotions flitted across the golden pools, seemingly shimmering with the sheer intensity. Full lips parted, taking in quivering breaths, still trying to process the information. He watched as the skin that was normally a sun-kissed hue, dropped down a few shades, the pale pallor so different and striking against his flaxen hair, The voice was so soft, shaky and breathless, contrasting so desperately to the loud and inhibited voice he was so used to hearing.

            “No…”

            Again with the shallow voice. It sounded so different; as if he were talking to a stranger, rather than a person he had known for his whole life. He’d never heard from him such a tone of shock, or was it fear? It didn’t matter. He’d never heard anything other than a brash or excited voice from the other, and it was unnerving to see him so… timid? It reminded him of that little boy that clung desperately to his arm, staring horrified at-- No. It hurt too much to think about it. Just forget about it... It won’t matter anymore in a matter of minutes.

            “Otouto…” He was shocked when he heard his own voice. It was just as soft and rickety. But then again, he was always the quiet one.

            “No, aniki. No!”

            There was that voice that he was so accustomed to. So much vigor, passion.

            “I won’t take it!”

            And there was the familiar stubbornness kicking in again. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, fidgeting slightly in the arms that cradled him so gently, as so his wounds wouldn’t bother him as much. His grip strengthened on the bottle, which was already clasped tightly in his wounded hand. He ignored the throbbing pain and the thick trail of blood slicking his fingers, trying to concentrate on what he was going to say to try and convince the boy staring down at him.

            “Just listen to me--”

            “No!”

            He sighed and closed his eyes again. Blood continued to seep out of his wounds, painting dark, morbid designs on his clothes and splotching a bit on his brother’s. His breathing was somewhat harsh, trying to accommodate for the oxygen that his battered body needed. He slid his tongue out, wetting the dry, cracked lips, only to be met with a metallic taste resting on them. Feeling somewhat nauseous from the rapid lost of his liquid life, and also from tasting its coppery taste on his lips, he settled down for just resting in the arms so willingly holding him.

            “Otouto…” He knew he sounded weary, and the tightening arms around him told him that his brother had noticed also. It was always like that; he took care of his otouto, and in return, his twin had developed a fierce sense of protectiveness over him. “It’s a chance at a new life; a chance to be away from all the pain and suffering of war. A chance to… forget. Forget about the past, the fighting. A chance to start over.”

            His brother was being uncharacteristically quiet. He watched as the eyes lost focus and the face relax, as if deep in thought. He continued staring, looking up at the face that was so similar, practically a mirror image, but yet, so different at the same time. Where as his eyes were always calm and calculating, his twins were always wild. Furious like a raging fire, so spontaneous and dangerous. They were the opposites; fire and ice, yin and yang, black and white. They complemented each other, completed one another. Two extremes alone, but together, a perfect balance.

            He watched his brother, silently waiting for an answer. He hoped it was yes, that his twin would take the potion and be with him, and leave their awful past behind. He was given as an offer at a good life, and he just wanted to share it with the most important person to him. They had always been together, through thick and thin, good, and bad. And they would always stay together until the very end. They needed each other to survive; he couldn’t bare to think of what life would be like without his precious otouto.

            He felt a hand on his, gently resting on the tense muscles still gripping the tiny bottle. The mélange of sweat and blood smeared onto a clean, pure hand, which was gently massaging his in an effort to get him to relent the object. Or was it simply to soothe him?

            “Alright. Aniki.”

            The word loosened a knot that had been building in his chest, painfully choking him inside, from anxiety and anticipation. He opened his hand finally, letting the scarlet stained bottle rest against his wounded palm. He winced slightly from the pain after he let go, the wound no longer being pressed, the blood now flowing smoothly across the planes of his hand. As if entranced, he watched as his otouto gingerly lifted the bottle, careful not to damage the wound any further, and replaced the object with his own flesh. He cringed lightly again as the warm hand pressed down on the cut, but was thankful that it stopped the freely running liquid.

            For a long time, they just sat still, staring at each other, hands clasped tightly, and intricate crimson weave showing through their digits. The air seemed heavy, whether with emotion or the scent of blood, neither would ever know. Slowly, his twin lowered his head and nuzzled his face into his neck, his hair tickling the sensitive skin along with the trickle of blood falling down from the cut across his cheek. That hot, heavy breath ghosted across his neck, sending pickling sensations along his skin. They stayed in that embrace for a while, just taking in each other’s familiar scent.

            He felt the arm that was pressed against his chest shift, and his brother pull away. Hands still clasped together, the bottle was offered to him so he could unscrew it. Using his uninjured hand, he undid the lid, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity around them. He looked back up into the face inches from his, and saw the silent question in those hazel orbs.

            “You first.”

            His twin nodded and brought the bottle up to his lips, some of the blood transferring from the object and tainting the soft folds of flesh a startling crimson. He watched as the bottle tipped, the liquid flow into that open mouth, eyes squint slightly from the unpleasant taste…

            But before he knew it, that open mouth was on his and that vile tasting potion was pouring into his. His eyes widened in utter shock, staring at an identical pair clenched tightly, brows drawn in… pain? Determination? He tried to say something, but he ended up choking on the liquid instead. He felt a strong hand grip the back of his throat, maneuvering on certain muscles, causing him to swallow, the bitter liquid burning down his throat. And that was when it dawned on him. His otouto was leaving him. He let out a strangled cry, choking some more on the liquid that was scalding his throat. No! His otouto couldn’t leave him! He clutched at his brother’s robe, pulling fruitlessly on it in an attempt to stop his twin, but it was useless. He clenched his eyes as searing tears began to blur his vision, spilling down his cheeks and mingling with the blood and beads of sweat. But if he had only kept his eyes open a bit longer, he would have seen the lone, crystalline tear seep out between a golden fringe and slide mournfully down along the crevasses of a now pale face. An apology, a goodbye.

All can change in one action

In one simple gesture

All that we have been accustomed to

Can shatter before our eyes

Just one action

All it took to change the concrete

What we thought to be forever

We had always been so close

Never imagining the day that we

Two halves if a puzzle

Would finally separate

But yet, it’s happened

The impossible

We lost out unique relationship

The bond that held us together

And all it took was one action

A moment of unguarded emotion

All it took to break us apart

Was one simple kiss

~owari~