Pairing: Fujino Shizuru and Kuga Natsuki
Theme set: Alpha
Thanks to Astarael00 for beta-ing.
Disclaimer: Mai HiME does not belong to me. Characters used copyright to respective owners.
Her touches are never always gentle or slow, often almost harsh and hasty, but it is her touch, and her touch comforts.
There were times when Shizuru wondered why Natsuki's element was ice when she was fire and passion, her kisses never quite gentle but almost rough; but then Shizuru would remember that ice burns, too.
Soft, so soft, thought Natsuki with a strange fascination; they were so huggable, and they were - though she would never admit it - so cuddleable; but then her teddy bears got wet in a freak accident, and a bewildered Shizuru found herself to be the next best replacement for the soft toys, huggable and cuddleable - perhaps even better.
There were times when Natsuki really hated Shizuru, hated her Zen-like smile, hated her calm facade, hated her impenetrable mask, hated the fact she couldn't do anything to take away Shizuru's pain.
Shizuru eyed the so-called salad potato warily, as if it could kill her, before glancing at Natsuki; the latter threw her now-empty bottle of mayonnaise into the waste basket (which was a decent distance away, and behind the counter, no less) without even looking up as she stabbed a piece of potato with a fork, and Shizuru just had to ask, "Natsuki, didn't you buy that bottle of mayonnaise today?"
She hated the rain, always hated the rain, though she showed no signs of it; but Shizuru would always sense it and arms would be wrapped around her, sweet nothings whispered to her ear, and the rain, the memories, would be forgotten.
It was very, very interesting to see Natsuki flustered - she was hiding something behind her back, and her feet were shuffling, to the point where Shizuru could not stand the curiosity and opened her mouth to ask, only to be interrupted when Natsuki shoved whatever-it-was at Shizuru's chest and ran off with a lame excuse, leaving Shizuru blinking in confusion; but when she realized what Natsuki had just given her, a small, genuine smile formed: it was a box of chocolates for Valentine's day.
Shizuru had never been more surprised in her life when Natsuki suddenly pulled her close, into a firm, tight hug; then a whisper, almost impossible to be heard despite their close proximity, made her eyes widen, and then there was nothing but tears and joy in them.
Shizuru struggles to gather her control, pointing out that the phone is ringing, but Natsuki only scowls, and her hand extends to pull out the telephone line that comes off with a snap, the telephone teetering to the edge of the table; then she looks down, beneath her, and before Shizuru could open her mouth to reprimand her actions, she presses their lips together.
Shizuru blew lightly at one of Natsuki's ears, giggled when the blue-haired girl jumped, and said teasingly into the pair of sleepy emerald eyes, "Now I know how to wake you up."
Shizuru likes how Natsuki phrases her name; there is a certain melodic quality to her name when she says it, and it speaks volumes for their silent yet tangible relationship.
She's watching that particular drop of water with baited breath, where it was steadily flowing from the back of that slender neck down the smooth skin to the dip of that spine, and lower, lower..."Ara," the impish words reached her ears, "did Natsuki see something she likes?"...and she blushed, caught red-handed.
They died in each other's arms that day, and each hopes it will happen that way again, so neither will have to live or die alone.
Their first few times at sex had been dominated and guided by Shizuru mostly, because Natsuki was naive and innocent and didn't know how these things worked; but after a while, it became apparent that Natsuki was sometimes more capable - and dominating - than Shizuru, to the point where warmth would flood Shizuru's cheeks involuntarily.
Not for the first time Natsuki felt the urge, the itch, to touch her, hold her, but Shizuru would somehow always stop her without realizing it; perhaps it was Shizuru's unreadable crimson eyes, perhaps it was her own cowardice, but Natsuki would lose the courage to reach out.
"You are my weakness," she tells her honestly; deep crimson eyes sincere and sad at the same time, and she caresses her cheeks; when Natsuki doesn't reply, cannot find a reply, Shizuru continues, "For you," she says, her voice a whisper, "I can do anything, everything, and that scares me the most; I can take down the heavens for you, and I can raise hell for you...because you are my strength and weakness both, Natsuki."
Thinking back, Shizuru noted that the first time she cried since her childhood was when Natsuki found out she was in love with her, and a sudden realization came, stabbing deeply - that Natsuki made it possible for Shizuru to do things, many things; and Shizuru would grow afraid, afraid of herself.
One day, Natsuki's bike broke down, and Shizuru had somehow become the means of transport for Natsuki to her school; and Natsuki, expecting Shizuru to come in a big, black car with a chauffeur, found herself baffled when Shizuru came driving a purple sports car while wearing a sunglasses, although she wasn't entirely sure which surprised her more: the fact that Shizuru drove, or the fact Shizuru was speeding, somehow retaining her touch of grace and elegance despite the near-reckless driving.
Shizuru never told Natsuki before, and suspected Natsuki would have stared at her in disbelief, but Shizuru did - and often - drive at a speed of 180kmph; not just because Shizuru liked the thrill from speeding almost recklessly, but also because the wind reminded her of Natsuki: flimsy yet sharp.
Natsuki, she knows, values freedom immensely - perhaps even more than the bond they share -so when it was time to leave, she left; without a word.
Duran is gone, and Shizuru with him, and she lifts the gun to join them, but then the old words, in that haunting voice, come back – "You shouldn't do that…since it's doing its best to bloom during its short life;" and the gun falls as a bitter laugh resounds in the empty room.
There is a brief moment in which Natsuki can't hear, can't think, can't feel, and then Reito is on the ground, Shizuru is holding her back with gentle hands, and Natsuki thinks she understands what happened at the First District, finally – "I'm sorry, Shizuru."
Her hands are stained, stained with blood, dirty, filthy; but Natsuki never cares, and she grabs her hands, holding them firmly, and tells her everything is fine - but those eyes, the green eyes that lack their usual clarity, say otherwise.
That day she offered a ghost of her taste, a chaste kiss on the lips; before they disappeared in a sprinkle of stars and dusts that flew with the wind, with the impact of explosion from Duran's huge guns on Kiyohime.
Shizuru's devotion sometimes scares Natsuki, even more when despite Shizuru's seemingly playful tone, the brunette means every single word she says; but then Shizuru would smile - sadly, painfully - calmly and tell Natsuki - not in words, not in actions, but Natsuki would still somehow hear it - that she is afraid too.
"Don't promise me forever," Shizuru tells her one quiet night, serious in spite of the teasing tone, "just promise me tomorrow, and the day after that."
Scarlet eyes, as if of molten blood, were what Shizuru stares into, a reflection of those green eyes; and she would - subtly, discretely - remove her gaze from her significant other, pushing away those insistently flashing memories with a tease, a touch, a warmth; and just for a moment, she would forget.
She'd like to think that there was an excuse for the whole catastrophe, that something had taken over her mind; and she hoped that there would be an answer in the doctor's diagnosis, but when the results came back things just got worse.
She hums a melody of death, slender fingers swinging the naginata with precise, graceful steps; but a gunshot jerked the beautiful but venomous melody to a harsh stop.
She was like a star to Shizuru, something forever untouchable, forever burning with an ice blue fire, forever innocent - not like herself, dirtied with filth...no, she certainly was not qualified to reach out, not to that bright, burning star.
"Home for me isn't a place, it's a person," Natsuki reads quietly from the bookmarked page, and she looks at the sleeping girl next to her and smiles.
When Shizuru was confused, she would systematically summarize the thing that caused the confusion, before breaking it down one by one in an orderly manner, weighing her options before finally deciding on a conclusion, and it worked for her every single time; but Natsuki, clearly, was not a puzzle that she could solve systematically, and she was irrevocably lost in confusion before she realized.
There is true fear in Natsuki's eyes when she pulls away, and sincere apology in them when she realizes what just happened, but Shizuru is lost before the latter can be seen.
Questing fingers, awkward tongues, lust, heat - a flash of thunder - she stiffens, memories coming unbidden; and the lust is suddenly gone, replaced by warmth of comfort chasing those memories - of a car, dog, mother, darkness - away.
They were so close and yet so far away, like two sides of the same coin…with a solid wall of metal in between.
She had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the market every single time, although she never really hated shopping, but the effort Shizuru puts in every single time to bring her out of seclusion made her feel a twisted comfort; and so she continued with the tirade.
"It's a cell phone, Natsuki," said Shizuru with a smile, handing her an unfamiliar blue object; but that wasn't the question on Natsuki's face, making it one of the few times Shizuru would incorrectly read her expression – "Who'd want to call me?"
It wasn't much – a little box with a tiny ribbon – but it meant the world to Shizuru.
"I'm sorry," says Shizuru over and over, but when she sees Natsuki's attempt at a cocky grin, suddenly she's laughing through her tears.
Shizuru was far from innocent and Natsuki was the opposite, and because of that, Shizuru did her best to hide her ugly side from her significant other; so that Natsuki would not be tainted by it.
"There," said Natsuki with satisfaction, "the puzzle's done," and she turned from the table without seeing the look on Shizuru's face that asked in heartbroken tones where their missingpieces were.
Natsuki discovered one day, as she reached over to steal Shizuru's tea for the fun of it, that the older girl's head was most definitely not in the clouds.
If Natsuki was the sky, Shizuru was the ground; because Shizuru would do anything and everything to reach the sky, and Natsuki would always find support and comfort in the ground.
If there is a Heaven, Natsuki thinks it looks something like this, with her ranting and hidden smile, and Shizuru's smile without hidden tears.
She did not want heaven nor did she want hell, but if she had to go through hell to be with her, she would gladly do it a thousand times over.
She remembered the lingering scent of the sea, the warmth of the setting sun that soaked her skin that contrasted with the biting cold wind as the motorcycle sped, the companion of the older girl - then she snapped back to the present, dodging the naginata before raising her gun; and her chest ached suddenly.
The moonlight shone softly on her face - her bandaged body - and Shizuru reached out to touch, the temptation too great; but then Natsuki's eyebrows furrowed in her sleep, a whispered, despairing why leaving her lips; and Shizuru's hand jerked to a stop, before reaching for the blanket and covering her, knowing she could not - would not - hurt her in any way possible, cursing Nao all the same.
She remembered the orange and red sky, the sound of crashing waves, the way her long, silky hair flew with the wind, the melancholic look in those green eyes, and she thinks it was then that she realized how deeply she fell.
"May I?" The soft, quiet voice asked, hopefully, as if the simple thing meant the world to her; her tone was oddly different today, lacking mischief and whatnot, and Natsuki hadn't the heart to decline, sweeping the length of her hair one time before Shizuru picked up the comb.
Shizuru is lot like a supernova to Natsuki; but the meaning of the analogy depends on Natsuki's mood: supernovas may release enormous destructive force, but they also light up the sky.
A/N: At last, the one year mini project is completed. The fifty themes, one sentence each; a challenge which I took up in a LiveJournal community named 1Sentence a year ago. Man, one year for fifty sentences...goes to show how inspired I am, eh?
As you may have noticed, several of the themes were underlined - which aren't done by me, but by Astarael00 herself. So I suppose this can be considered as a somesort co-authoring job.
It's been interesting to write these out. A fairly different approach to writing, although believe me when I say I won't attempt another. Tempting, but no. It could get quite brain-wracking at times when I couldn't figure out what to write for a theme. Point in fact, if not for the dear beta of mine, I doubt this will be completed at all.
That said, no, I have no idea where the part Shizuru drives come from. The sudden image of her driving on a highway (on a high cliff with the sea next to it) while sporting an ultra-cool sunglasses just came to mind, and wouldn't leave; and naturally, I couldn't resist adding it into the drabbles. XD
Some may find it odd, but...I don't know, I can just see her doing it, for some reason. With an expensive, metallic purple (topless) sports car. With the wind blasting. Does anyone else agree with me, or am I the odd one out?
And as far as 22. Jealousy is concerned, it's something that is somewhat related to a recent happening in my other fic, Stain. (And to be noted is that I did not write it, my beta did.)
Aaaand...that's it. I wouldn't mind knowing which themes were your favourites, though. -hintnudgehintnudge-
Hope this had been enjoyable, people, and I will see you around in Stain's next posting.