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[Fic]
My first (completed) foray into writing for X/1999
or
Why You Should Not Let Freya Write When Depressed.
The title is partly from a Bryan Adams song and partly because... well, I couldn't exactly call it anything else. Spoilers for the ending of the X anime as I remember it, which may not be all that well. And probably Tokyo Babylon as well.
Have now lost all faith in humanity. Damn Subaru for being so bloody logical.
Sumeragi Subaru is thinking about loss.
He wonders why, once you let someone into your heart, they have to leave such a large hole when they leave. It would be so much easier if the place where they had been could just close up seamlessly, and leave you just as complete as you were before you let yourself love them.
Subaru is counting the people in his heart, and there are only empty spaces. Only three people have ever made it in there, and they all left him eventually.
Sumeragi Hokuto.
Subaru’s sister was the first person he loved, with the deep and perfect love of a twin. It was a love that lasted the first sixteen years of their lives, which made it all the harder to let go. And Subaru was never really sure why his sister had to leave, when it was meant to have been him that died that day. Hokuto would have dealt with the empty space so much better than he did, too.
Only those who have lost a twin can know how it feels, Subaru reflects. Half of his heart turned to an echoing darkness, just in an instant. Half of his soul sucked away. Because Hokuto, with her endless smiles and bossy voice and awful ideas about fashion, was everything that kept sixteen-year-old Sumeragi Subaru from becoming what he did. She kept him from the silence and the single-mindedness and the hard eyes that became his shields against the world.
The gap where Hokuto used to be is a dangerous one.
Subaru was told at her funeral that those you loved lived on in your heart after they died, but he couldn’t find Hokuto there any more than he could find her in the suddenly empty rooms of their house. He could only find memories, and they were too painful to be any good at all. He concluded that the person must have been lying.
There have been too many lies in Subaru’s life, and mostly from the one source.
Sakurazuka Seishirou.
The Sakurazukamori was his second love, and Subaru loved him with the innocent and helpless love of a child. In a way, that love should have died on the same day that Hokuto did, but it had taken far too deep a hold for that. It was dark and desperate and twisted with revenge, but as long as Seishirou lived, Subaru could still love him.
The young Subaru took that betrayal very hard. Today’s Subaru reflects that it gave him the strength to be able to fight the person he loved the most without flinching, and without giving away the fact that he was trying his hardest to die.
Subaru is still Wishing that Seishirou had killed him, like he was supposed to. Again, Subaru has the strange feeling that fate was somehow cheated as Seishirou stole the death that should have been his, just as Hokuto had. The assassin had either refused to admit to loving him or hadn’t needed to love him – either way, the Sakurazukamori died content. Because either way, there was nothing left for him to live for.
Subaru would have been the same way, after his sister’s last spell had robbed him of the death he wanted – so very very annoying, that those he had loved kept making his life harder even from beyond the grave – but his treacherous heart had found something else to hold onto.
Shirou Kamui.
Subaru loved Kamui last, with the cynical and compassionate love of an adult and a friend. He had hoped so desperately that Kamui could fill the space left by Hokuto – and when Seishirou died, loved him even harder in an attempt to fill that space too.
He had poured so much into loving the Dragon of Heaven – so much that Kamui’s death had ripped away enough of Subaru’s heart that there was very little of it left after the Promised Day.
Subaru wishes that Kamui had just let him give his life to save the younger boy’s, like he wanted to. Like he did. Then he could have died with a heart that was nearly complete, instead of trying to live with this one that is like black lace. The bitter realisation is that Kamui was just like the others, in the end – taking the death that should have been his.
He tries his hardest not to blame Kamui for bringing him back – the boy wanted those who had died in the Final Battle to have their lives given back to them, and it was a good last Wish, as these things go.
But there was no Wish for those who had gone before.
Not Seishirou.
And not Kamui himself. He gave his life to the others.
Subaru thinks of the life that Kamui gave him. He thinks of Arashi, of watching her act out her life with hollow eyes and only crying when she thinks no one can hear. He thinks of Seiichirou and Yuzuriha, but they don’t think of him much nowadays. They visited him occasionally, for a while, but now their own lives are enough to keep them going. Better for them if they forget, anyway.
He thinks of Fuuma, who lives alone and tries to keep his promise and make Kamui’s sacrifice worthwhile by being happy. He isn’t doing a very good job, so far. He’s finding out that Kamui didn’t live on in his heart like he said he would, and the empty space is scaring him.
Subaru is glad that Kamui didn’t die for him in that way.
It might have made him feel obligated to live.
Someone told Subaru once that cutting your wrists was the worst way to kill yourself, because it left too much time for reflection, too much time to regret doing it, and just enough time to die wishing that you were still alive. He doesn’t really agree with this, because he’s been reflecting all this time and it’s only convinced him that he’s doing the right thing. The empty spaces take up so much room in his mind that there’s little left for regret.
And there’s no one to take this death away from him. He’s been dying every day since his twin did, and only now has fate given him permission to finish it.
One hand tries to lift and make patterns in the clouds of blood, but there’s not quite enough energy left to manage it.
Not long, now.
Subaru wonders about life after death, and what Hokuto would say if she could see him and if she’ll get the chance to say it after he dies, or if there’ll only be darkness.
Both have their appeal.
Subaru’s last thought as the water seems to grow colder, and the room to fill with shadows, is that there’s no one left who loves him. He won’t leave a gap in anyone’s heart.
Which can only be seen as a good thing, really.
~
Mm. Feedback? This one was tossed together within the space of a couple of hours on nothing but an emotion and an idea and hasn't been beta-ed because my darling beta hasn't finished X yet and I can't spoiler her :P So constructive comments would be very welcome indeed.
or
Why You Should Not Let Freya Write When Depressed.
The title is partly from a Bryan Adams song and partly because... well, I couldn't exactly call it anything else. Spoilers for the ending of the X anime as I remember it, which may not be all that well. And probably Tokyo Babylon as well.
Have now lost all faith in humanity. Damn Subaru for being so bloody logical.
Sumeragi Subaru is thinking about loss.
He wonders why, once you let someone into your heart, they have to leave such a large hole when they leave. It would be so much easier if the place where they had been could just close up seamlessly, and leave you just as complete as you were before you let yourself love them.
Subaru is counting the people in his heart, and there are only empty spaces. Only three people have ever made it in there, and they all left him eventually.
Sumeragi Hokuto.
Subaru’s sister was the first person he loved, with the deep and perfect love of a twin. It was a love that lasted the first sixteen years of their lives, which made it all the harder to let go. And Subaru was never really sure why his sister had to leave, when it was meant to have been him that died that day. Hokuto would have dealt with the empty space so much better than he did, too.
Only those who have lost a twin can know how it feels, Subaru reflects. Half of his heart turned to an echoing darkness, just in an instant. Half of his soul sucked away. Because Hokuto, with her endless smiles and bossy voice and awful ideas about fashion, was everything that kept sixteen-year-old Sumeragi Subaru from becoming what he did. She kept him from the silence and the single-mindedness and the hard eyes that became his shields against the world.
The gap where Hokuto used to be is a dangerous one.
Subaru was told at her funeral that those you loved lived on in your heart after they died, but he couldn’t find Hokuto there any more than he could find her in the suddenly empty rooms of their house. He could only find memories, and they were too painful to be any good at all. He concluded that the person must have been lying.
There have been too many lies in Subaru’s life, and mostly from the one source.
Sakurazuka Seishirou.
The Sakurazukamori was his second love, and Subaru loved him with the innocent and helpless love of a child. In a way, that love should have died on the same day that Hokuto did, but it had taken far too deep a hold for that. It was dark and desperate and twisted with revenge, but as long as Seishirou lived, Subaru could still love him.
The young Subaru took that betrayal very hard. Today’s Subaru reflects that it gave him the strength to be able to fight the person he loved the most without flinching, and without giving away the fact that he was trying his hardest to die.
Subaru is still Wishing that Seishirou had killed him, like he was supposed to. Again, Subaru has the strange feeling that fate was somehow cheated as Seishirou stole the death that should have been his, just as Hokuto had. The assassin had either refused to admit to loving him or hadn’t needed to love him – either way, the Sakurazukamori died content. Because either way, there was nothing left for him to live for.
Subaru would have been the same way, after his sister’s last spell had robbed him of the death he wanted – so very very annoying, that those he had loved kept making his life harder even from beyond the grave – but his treacherous heart had found something else to hold onto.
Shirou Kamui.
Subaru loved Kamui last, with the cynical and compassionate love of an adult and a friend. He had hoped so desperately that Kamui could fill the space left by Hokuto – and when Seishirou died, loved him even harder in an attempt to fill that space too.
He had poured so much into loving the Dragon of Heaven – so much that Kamui’s death had ripped away enough of Subaru’s heart that there was very little of it left after the Promised Day.
Subaru wishes that Kamui had just let him give his life to save the younger boy’s, like he wanted to. Like he did. Then he could have died with a heart that was nearly complete, instead of trying to live with this one that is like black lace. The bitter realisation is that Kamui was just like the others, in the end – taking the death that should have been his.
He tries his hardest not to blame Kamui for bringing him back – the boy wanted those who had died in the Final Battle to have their lives given back to them, and it was a good last Wish, as these things go.
But there was no Wish for those who had gone before.
Not Seishirou.
And not Kamui himself. He gave his life to the others.
Subaru thinks of the life that Kamui gave him. He thinks of Arashi, of watching her act out her life with hollow eyes and only crying when she thinks no one can hear. He thinks of Seiichirou and Yuzuriha, but they don’t think of him much nowadays. They visited him occasionally, for a while, but now their own lives are enough to keep them going. Better for them if they forget, anyway.
He thinks of Fuuma, who lives alone and tries to keep his promise and make Kamui’s sacrifice worthwhile by being happy. He isn’t doing a very good job, so far. He’s finding out that Kamui didn’t live on in his heart like he said he would, and the empty space is scaring him.
Subaru is glad that Kamui didn’t die for him in that way.
It might have made him feel obligated to live.
Someone told Subaru once that cutting your wrists was the worst way to kill yourself, because it left too much time for reflection, too much time to regret doing it, and just enough time to die wishing that you were still alive. He doesn’t really agree with this, because he’s been reflecting all this time and it’s only convinced him that he’s doing the right thing. The empty spaces take up so much room in his mind that there’s little left for regret.
And there’s no one to take this death away from him. He’s been dying every day since his twin did, and only now has fate given him permission to finish it.
One hand tries to lift and make patterns in the clouds of blood, but there’s not quite enough energy left to manage it.
Not long, now.
Subaru wonders about life after death, and what Hokuto would say if she could see him and if she’ll get the chance to say it after he dies, or if there’ll only be darkness.
Both have their appeal.
Subaru’s last thought as the water seems to grow colder, and the room to fill with shadows, is that there’s no one left who loves him. He won’t leave a gap in anyone’s heart.
Which can only be seen as a good thing, really.
~
Mm. Feedback? This one was tossed together within the space of a couple of hours on nothing but an emotion and an idea and hasn't been beta-ed because my darling beta hasn't finished X yet and I can't spoiler her :P So constructive comments would be very welcome indeed.