Status: I'm sorry for this trash.
Moonlight
One
"I'm sorry."
The words tumbled from his mouth in a hush, spilling into the cold night air along with the visible trail of his breath. His chest constricted, his throat was dry.
This feeling. It was not unfamiliar to him in the slightest. It had been years, yes. But he had definitely felt this before.
Kneeling there, wet grass dampening the legs of his khaki pants, he closed his eyes and struggled to find something more to say. Try as he might, the words he needed were lost somewhere in the reaches of his brain. Perhaps it was better to leave it that way. There was nothing that could be said to repair what had come about because of him.
Opening his eyes, he stared up into the dark sky at the silver sliver of a moon that hung draped in clouds, brown eyes searching for answers that he would never find.
"I never hated you, you know." He wasn't sure where that had come from, but the words spilled from his lips in such a natural manner. One could almost say they were sincere.
His attention shifted from the moon to the gravestone before him and the name emblazoned there. His heart jumped and his stomach churned as he read it over and over.
Chuuya Nakahara.
Dragging shallow breaths in and out through his nose, he swallowed around the taste of bile, the blood filled scene he had found his former partner in flashing behind his eyes.
Chuuya's limbs twisted and contorted, blood streaming from his nose, half of his flesh was gone, exposing the bone beneath, as he lay prone in the center of the chaos and carnage he alone had created, eyes stark white, chest without breath. Wading through blood and gore, the stench alone enough to make an average man retch.
Reaching the limp, lifeless husk and pulling him to his chest, his own panicked words as meaningless as the crashing of the ocean in his ears.
Of course, it wasn't the thought of blood that turned him into such a mess. Truly, it wasn't the thought of death, either. Death was ever on his mind. It was a welcomed thought.
It was the idea that, once again, he had been powerless to save someone so important to him.
Reaching to his left, he retrieved the bundle of white lilies wrapped in matching white ribbon that he had put together earlier that evening. Placing them atop the smooth surface of the gravestone, he let his hand linger there, the feeling of the cool marble beneath his fingertips bringing memories of Chuuya's demeanor to life inside his head.
"You were often as cold to me as I was to you." A humorless laugh escaped his lips. "If only I could have told you why I chose to treat you that way. To hold you at arm's length. To make others perceive our relationship as one of hatred and rivalry."
It was all for nothing, in the long run. Perhaps he would have done better to be honest. At least then, he could have felt happiness while it lasted.
"I really was useless to you. I couldn't protect you. Not from them. Not from yourself.
"And for that, I'm sorry."
As uncharacteristic as it was for him to apologize, he found himself compelled to repeat the phrase over and over again. Perhaps it was the realization that he had made everything worse. Or maybe he hoped if he did enough penance, this awful feeling would subside.
Either way, it wasn't helping. The longer he knelt there, the more he ached, the sicker he felt. He needed to leave, but he wasn't quite sure he could stand. Extending his index finger he traced the letters carved into the stone, eyes glazing over.
Orange locks tangled in his fingers. Cold, blue eyes with soft edges. A sarcastic smirk giving way to something more genuine. He would never know any of these things again.
"If only you could have taken me with you." His tone was wistful as he dragged his knuckles along the gravestone before bringing his hand to his lap, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.
"Chuuya."
Leaning forward, brown hair falling into his eyes as he shifted, he lowered his face to the stone, pecking it with his lips and showering it with droplets as his tears finally spilled forth, the moon and stars sole witness to this rare display of emotion.
"Would you scoff at my weakness now? Frown down upon me and laugh at my newfound emotion? Take the time to remind me of the cold husk I once was?"
After a minute or two, his shoulders began to tremble and before he was fully aware of what he was doing, he had thrown himself on his side in the grass, his head resting against the marble. His head ached as memory after memory danced behind his eyes in the darkness. Heavy eyelids threatened to give in to the pull of the night, his body and mind exhausted from this surge of grief. Perhaps this was how he would die.
He could only hope to be so lucky.
_____
Daylight washed over his slight frame, dragging across his eyelids and causing him to stir, sitting up cautiously, his body burning and joints protesting audibly thanks to a night spent on the hard ground. Forcing himself to his feet with a groan, he wobbled in place as his legs got reacquainted with the weight of his body.
The sound of birds chirping assaulted his ears and his pounding head. His eyes felt puffy and raw, he blinked repeatedly and raised a hand to shield them, his gaze dropping to the ground at his feet, his heart skipping a beat.
He reached down slowly, holding his breath until his fingers met the rough, black fabric of the hat at his feet. He turned it over in his hands as he straightened, his eyes scanning it desperately as if waiting for it to suddenly disappear.
Running his thumb across the brown band that served as a decorative touch, he smiled to himself, remembering all the trouble his stupid jokes about this hat had caused. He hoped that Chuuya had come to regard those memories as fondly as he had. In a way, perhaps finding the hat here was proof that he did.
Placing the hat atop his head, he then shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan trench coat, gazing into the distance. His mind still swirled with remnants of long buried emotions and memories of a partnership that could have been better. Could have been more.
Maybe, one day, we will meet again. But for now...
"Rest, Chuuya. Be at peace."
The words tumbled from his mouth in a hush, spilling into the cold night air along with the visible trail of his breath. His chest constricted, his throat was dry.
This feeling. It was not unfamiliar to him in the slightest. It had been years, yes. But he had definitely felt this before.
Kneeling there, wet grass dampening the legs of his khaki pants, he closed his eyes and struggled to find something more to say. Try as he might, the words he needed were lost somewhere in the reaches of his brain. Perhaps it was better to leave it that way. There was nothing that could be said to repair what had come about because of him.
Opening his eyes, he stared up into the dark sky at the silver sliver of a moon that hung draped in clouds, brown eyes searching for answers that he would never find.
"I never hated you, you know." He wasn't sure where that had come from, but the words spilled from his lips in such a natural manner. One could almost say they were sincere.
His attention shifted from the moon to the gravestone before him and the name emblazoned there. His heart jumped and his stomach churned as he read it over and over.
Chuuya Nakahara.
Dragging shallow breaths in and out through his nose, he swallowed around the taste of bile, the blood filled scene he had found his former partner in flashing behind his eyes.
Chuuya's limbs twisted and contorted, blood streaming from his nose, half of his flesh was gone, exposing the bone beneath, as he lay prone in the center of the chaos and carnage he alone had created, eyes stark white, chest without breath. Wading through blood and gore, the stench alone enough to make an average man retch.
Reaching the limp, lifeless husk and pulling him to his chest, his own panicked words as meaningless as the crashing of the ocean in his ears.
Of course, it wasn't the thought of blood that turned him into such a mess. Truly, it wasn't the thought of death, either. Death was ever on his mind. It was a welcomed thought.
It was the idea that, once again, he had been powerless to save someone so important to him.
Reaching to his left, he retrieved the bundle of white lilies wrapped in matching white ribbon that he had put together earlier that evening. Placing them atop the smooth surface of the gravestone, he let his hand linger there, the feeling of the cool marble beneath his fingertips bringing memories of Chuuya's demeanor to life inside his head.
"You were often as cold to me as I was to you." A humorless laugh escaped his lips. "If only I could have told you why I chose to treat you that way. To hold you at arm's length. To make others perceive our relationship as one of hatred and rivalry."
It was all for nothing, in the long run. Perhaps he would have done better to be honest. At least then, he could have felt happiness while it lasted.
"I really was useless to you. I couldn't protect you. Not from them. Not from yourself.
"And for that, I'm sorry."
As uncharacteristic as it was for him to apologize, he found himself compelled to repeat the phrase over and over again. Perhaps it was the realization that he had made everything worse. Or maybe he hoped if he did enough penance, this awful feeling would subside.
Either way, it wasn't helping. The longer he knelt there, the more he ached, the sicker he felt. He needed to leave, but he wasn't quite sure he could stand. Extending his index finger he traced the letters carved into the stone, eyes glazing over.
Orange locks tangled in his fingers. Cold, blue eyes with soft edges. A sarcastic smirk giving way to something more genuine. He would never know any of these things again.
"If only you could have taken me with you." His tone was wistful as he dragged his knuckles along the gravestone before bringing his hand to his lap, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.
"Chuuya."
Leaning forward, brown hair falling into his eyes as he shifted, he lowered his face to the stone, pecking it with his lips and showering it with droplets as his tears finally spilled forth, the moon and stars sole witness to this rare display of emotion.
"Would you scoff at my weakness now? Frown down upon me and laugh at my newfound emotion? Take the time to remind me of the cold husk I once was?"
After a minute or two, his shoulders began to tremble and before he was fully aware of what he was doing, he had thrown himself on his side in the grass, his head resting against the marble. His head ached as memory after memory danced behind his eyes in the darkness. Heavy eyelids threatened to give in to the pull of the night, his body and mind exhausted from this surge of grief. Perhaps this was how he would die.
He could only hope to be so lucky.
_____
Daylight washed over his slight frame, dragging across his eyelids and causing him to stir, sitting up cautiously, his body burning and joints protesting audibly thanks to a night spent on the hard ground. Forcing himself to his feet with a groan, he wobbled in place as his legs got reacquainted with the weight of his body.
The sound of birds chirping assaulted his ears and his pounding head. His eyes felt puffy and raw, he blinked repeatedly and raised a hand to shield them, his gaze dropping to the ground at his feet, his heart skipping a beat.
He reached down slowly, holding his breath until his fingers met the rough, black fabric of the hat at his feet. He turned it over in his hands as he straightened, his eyes scanning it desperately as if waiting for it to suddenly disappear.
Running his thumb across the brown band that served as a decorative touch, he smiled to himself, remembering all the trouble his stupid jokes about this hat had caused. He hoped that Chuuya had come to regard those memories as fondly as he had. In a way, perhaps finding the hat here was proof that he did.
Placing the hat atop his head, he then shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan trench coat, gazing into the distance. His mind still swirled with remnants of long buried emotions and memories of a partnership that could have been better. Could have been more.
Maybe, one day, we will meet again. But for now...
"Rest, Chuuya. Be at peace."
♠ ♠ ♠
*shrugs off the plane of existence*This is way too emotional to be Dazai, forgive me it's 3a.m. and I know not what I do.
I have no idea what this even is, it's like word vomit but here we go. Get it all out.
I don't know how many times I changed tenses, but please leave corrections for me. I proofed this but I know I missed stuff.
Heyo I reposted this cause I really like it and I'm sorry if it's OOC but I happened to imagine such a scenario and am Soukoku trash so here you go have my angst. I only hope one day I can be forgiven.