I had almost finished all of the story when my IE locked, and when it unlocked again, since I never closed it, more than half of the story was gone. T^T I was sad, because it didn't become as good as it was when I was forced to rewrite it.
This was posted at ArchiveOfOurOwn before here.
The burns hurt, remind him of things he don't want to remember. He press his face into the matress, and he try not to think of it.
He look up as he feel something on his head, and he see one of the boys he has caused so much pain. He just want to die, to go to his mother and not have to feel this pain anymore. So why was this boy here? With such a warm hand, gentle, big and covering him in a bubble of ease?
Little boy, don't cry.
Little boy? But he ... he wasn't a little boy.
He look up, eyes wide and realize that the one in front of him was much taller than he should have been. Looked much bigger. He sniffled, and wiped his nise with a long, dirty jacket-sleeve. Since when was he wearing that? His old pajama.. Even if it hadn't been torn apart by flames, he should have grown out of it years ago, it should have been thrown away. M-mama... he murmur, and his mind reverts, and he feel how he crumbles apart. He shiver, and suddenly, the tears are falling in fast streams, and he sobs violently. The teen in front of him look uncertain, not sure of what he was supposed to do, and he look at the boy in front of him. With a bothered, but yet concerned expression, he step closer, crouching in front of the little boy. Mama... The darkhaired teen pull the boy close, and the little boy clutch closer. Scared...
Of what? the teen asked gently. papa... scary... hurts mom... angry... always...
The teen was even more worried now, and concerned as well.
Where are you? the teen asked. He put his hands on the boys shoulders, and met the teary gaze, repeating his quesion. Where are you? Not... the boy sobbed. too late... papa... killed mama... killed ... burns... hurts.. He sniffled, and squeezed his eyes shut when a thumb softly brushed away the tears in his eyes. His back burned, his flesh scorched and he cried out in pain. When the pain ebbed out, he breathed hard, tears soaking the teens clothes and smearing the soot that appeared on his face. His voice changed, as hands that rubbed his face and clutched to the others clothes grew. A childs mind and a teens body. eleven... years...
The darkhaired teen startled, and recoiled in shock and recognition. The blonde looked at him in sadness, and he curled up in a ball.
The blonde's body retched with violent sobs, and tears pour down his face, big and filled with despair. ..mama... With hesitation, the darkhaired teen gets closer, and with even more hesitation, he put his arms around the blonde. With a torn cry, the blonde wrap his arms around him, clutch tightly, close to him, and the tears pour freely.
Mitsuru jerked awake, staring at the cieling, staring around the room. There is no one there, he is alone in his own room. But he can feel the warmth of a shivering body, can feel that his clothes are wet, and can still hear the crying. He lay limp, staring at the darkness of the cieling.