At last! I have thought of a good plotline for a Kyo/Yuki.
This is dedicated to Catrina, who writes the best Kyo/Yuki stories ever. Seriously, check her out, she is amazing. Oh, and if you haven't already, try 'We're All Just Stupid People', which is absolutely brilliant. Seriously. Completely brilliant.
Warnings for chapter 1: Some swearing, violence, tragedy, Kyo/Haru.
Disclaimer: Usual crap. Nope, not mine.
Love Can Ignite the Stars
Because of a Bicycle
In the end, it was all because of a bicycle.
You know the one I mean? Haru's little job. The delicate framework, dainty handlebars, steady speed… almost exactly what Haru isn't. Wasn't.
It's no wonder it couldn't survive being hit by a truck.
It had started out pretty normal, I suppose. Normally, our morning routines managed to squeeze in two love-making sessions before he left for work. He'd wake me up softly, caressing my face, whispering sweet stupidities in my ear – White Haru was always wonderfully loving – before we'd gently dance together.
It is the most wonderful wake-up call.
I was better than the damn Rat at waking up; after that I was completely fine, and we managed to share our shower before he'd kiss me gently, stroking my hair, and say his gentle farewell.
I'd just smile, though if I was particularly grouchy I'd hit him with a pillow (or maybe toast, depending where I was), but he didn't mind, kissing my head softly and walking out of the door.
This time had a sick parody of Tohru's; it was perhaps the one time he hadn't been able to tell me that. He'd been out late working – he was the sole provider of income, as I couldn't hold down a job for more than five minutes before getting a) bored b) annoyed or c) violently angry – so I waited up for him. Staggering in as Black Haru had made him very temperamental, and we were up most of the night, before I slipped away in the early hours of the morning. I was so exhausted that he didn't think to wake me, and left in the morning without another word.
Believe it or not, I don't blame him. He was probably pretty tired at the time, as I was, but he had just wanted what was best for me. For us. He'd always done that; sacrificial, almost. He felt he owed me something, for services rendered, or something, but I don't care about any of that bullshit. I did it for him, and he doesn't need to think about it any more.
In a sick, perverse sort of way I suppose it's entirely my fault.
I peeled myself off the bedsheets, still sticky and damp from before, uttering curses under my breath as I half-staggered across the room and dumped them in the laundry basket. This small journey exhausting me, I slumped back down on the floor and winced as I hit the rough carpet, swearing loudly to the empty room.
With a massive heave of effort I dragged myself into the shower, the jolt of hot-cold finally shaking the sleep from me and massaging my aching muscles. Taking some lotion recommended to me by Tohru of all people I tried to rub some of the pain out of my muscles, but with little success. Damn, next time I'm going to say no after the twenty-somethingth time.
Staggering into the kitchen I found some half-gnawed toast – mine from yesterday, I realised with a shudder – and a cup of cold coffee. Shunning these two items (with good reason) I pulled down another mug and spooned in some instant powder. My mind wandered – not to anything in particular – and when I came back it was at the clink of the spoon on an empty jar as I realised I had spooned the whole jar of coffee into the mug. With another sigh I emptied it back out, pouring the boiled water into the cup with a sensible amount of coffee.
I noticed a note in the bottom of the coffee jar, and pulled it out, frowning slightly.
Silly kitten. You owe me a jar of coffee.
With a half-smile (other half quickly turning into a wince), I drank half the coffee in one go and left the other half to congeal on the worktop. With a walk a little more rejuvenated I made my way to the phone, the red light annoying me too much; I pressed play and settled back to listen to the messages.
First three were for Haru; bank, friend, something to do with work. I pressed next and ignored them.
The next was from Haru.
"Hey, kitten. You're useless at answering the phone, so I could only guess you won't get this, or will still be in bed. I'll probably be talking to myself right now, but what the fuck. Hi, me in four hours. Anyway, I'm working late again –
I groaned; I'd hardly recovered from the last time. Not another night, Haru, have mercy!
– I heard that. Sorry, kitten, there's nothing I can do about it. You know you enjoy it really. Call me when you get this, screw the rules. Love you."
I smiled quietly to myself, and heard the message information: 10:34 am. Glancing at the clock, I groaned again; it was well past noon now. Stupid Ox would probably be worrying. I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone.
Placing it to my ear I let it ring. Once, twice, three times… eventually the dial tone sounded and I pulled it in front of my face as the answerphone clicked on, the mechanised voice mumbling down the speaker.
I tried his work number, but the result was a bit more promising; a woman picked up. "Hello, this is Hatsuharu Sohma's phone, how can I help?"
Relieved, I garbled the words. "Heya, sorry, I'm a friend of Haru's, do you think I could speak to him? It's a bit urgent."
I heard a quiet intake of breath and a whispered conversation on the other end of the phone. "Can I ask who's calling?"
I opened my mouth and closed it again; I wasn't sure how much his work knew about us. "His flatmate," I lied smoothly.
Again, breathy whispers. "I'm sorry… Hatsuharu never made it into work today."
I froze. Everything froze, stopped, halted, apart from my blood, which was all I could hear in my ears apart from the dreaded sentence, which wouldn't get out. "What do you mean?" I croaked, voice breaking dangerously.
More whispers. "There was an accident… I'm so sorry."
It was the worst possible thing she could have said.
Typically, I was the last person to find out. And even then I wasn't told everything; just something to do with an accident. I didn't rush, as Hatori hadn't stressed it was serious, and besides, I had classes to attend to.
Who'd have imagined it? Yuki Sohma, English Teacher. It still made me give an involuntary snigger sometimes. Well, technically it wasn't just English; I taught Japanese kanji, some Mandarin occasionally and even the odd Physics lesson. I worked at a small school, hard-pressed for staff, and I wanted to help them as much as they could. Wonderful kids, if slightly insane; all the others treated me with reverence at being a Sohma, but I rejected this. My name could have got me a loftier position in a better school, but I wanted this one, and I finally got to choose what I wanted.
You should have seen my mother's face when I turned down the offer for head of the family. Anything we'd built up over the last few years was completely destroyed. Of course, Ayame had been entirely delighted, annoying but still incredibly supportive. Generally I tried to 'pay my own way', but couldn't resist the lavish birthday presents he forced on me, no matter how perverted they were.
In any rate, it was past six when I finally made my way to the hospital. Hatori had given me brief instructions on how to get to the ward, but as he was helping he soon had to hurry back. I walked down the empty corridors, shuddering slightly. I hated hospitals; their smell, their… absentness, their general aura of pain and death. Normally I wasn't this morbid, but hospitals always set me off.
Shrugging off the fears I pushed open the door to the private ward, ignoring the nurse's inquisitive glance and walking straight through the pigeon-gray double doors at the other side of the room. I navigated my way easily through the cold corridors, before stopping at room number twenty-three.
Sohma Hatsuharu, the plaque told me, along with the doctor's name, and information about his state.
Wait a minute… this said catatonic! With rising fear I heaved open the doors and walked into the room -
- to see my beautiful, angelic Hatsuharu lying stone-still in the middle of the crisp white sheets.
The gentle blip of the machine which echoed around the room was at least half the rate of what my heart was racing at. My chest convulsed involuntarily, but I ignored it, staggering over to the bed. I leaned across him with one arm, while my mouth struggled to get in mouthfuls of air which just didn't seem to reach my lungs.
The room was spinning and fading in the corners of my eyes. With one final, massive effort I collapsed behind the chair and everything went black.
My head in my hands, I cried. I had screamed, shouted, swore and even smashed a few things, but now nothing was left but to sink to the floor and sob. I hadn't felt so pathetic for a very long time – a verylong time. But there was nothing for it now; I just sank down and cried, tears running between curled fingers, nails digging into cheekbones, but the pain did nothing. Absolutely nothing.
After a while of self-pity I staggered out of the room, grabbed the flowers I'd arranged for his return this evening – lilies and freesias, his favourites (though the fact Haru liked flowers had always seemed quite funny to me) – and stumbled through town to the hospital.
All the time all I could hear was –
- over and over and over and over until I screamed and sank down again. After recovering myself I found I was virtually next to the hospital.
"Don't give up on me now, kitten." I jumped; I could have sworn I had just heard that, as if he was standing next to me. A wild glance around found this to (unfortunately) not be the case; I quelled another sob and stumbled the last block into the hospital, ignoring receptionists and nurses alike.
I collapsed into the room, the hideous click-click of the ventilator washing through it; accompanied by the blip of the monitor and the hush of the air-conditioning it nearly drove me insane. I staggered over to the bed, eyes painfully dry, and ran a gentle hand across his skin.
"Not my Haru…" I whispered. "You're too strong. You're too good for this!" My voice had risen dangerously, and with a choking sob which broke my voice I forced my anger down again.
It was then I noticed the heap of clothes, and the small grey rat. They were hidden behind a chair, so hadn't been immediately obvious to me, but since I knew what I was looking for I quickly found the little rat. With a curse I pulled it out of its sleeping place, to which it opened an onyx eye and stared at me balefully, before transforming in a puff.
"Fuck! Put some clothes on!" I randomly waved his pile at him, glad when it was released from my grasp. After the general flurry of clothes was followed by a small sigh I judged it was alright to turn around.
"Sorry," he muttered, blushing slightly, but his strange apology wasn't noticed by me; my attention was focused on Haru. "I had an attack," he explained briefly, but I didn't care. Walking back to the bed, I pushed a stray white strand of hair from his forehead slowly. Yuki walked up from behind me and rested his forehead on my shoulder; I flinched but didn't shake him off. By the sounds of his ragged breathing he was struggling as much as I was. "S-sorry," he gasped, and then the pressure was alleviated as he collapsed to the ground.
"Shit," I muttered, and scrambled forward, catching him reflexively. I sat him in one of the two chairs, watching as his chest fluttered frantically. His nails cut into the armchair, and his eyes were closed, but step-by-step he regained control and opened his eyes fuzzily.
"Sorry… again," he sighed, and I looked over to the bed.
"No, I am. I am so sorry." And when I looked into the eyes of my nemesis I could see it was completely true.
This was originally a oneshot, but I thought it would be more fun as a story. And besides, seeing as I'm already planning a sequal… ;)
Do leave a review. Please, do. –Noel Fielding Eyes- If you don't know who he is, look him up and then see. I'm sure that will convince you on its own. But seriously, please. Any-hoo, till next time.