Itami (Pain)

Pairing: Ken x Omi

Rating: Angst

Thoughts are in Italics

 

f l y.

 

Can I  f l y?

 

It seemed to be just a blur of tan before the sun-ripened body smashed against the mosaic pottery displays in front of the flowershop.

 

Just a blur of tan quickly turning crimson against the cement.

 

Just a blur of red turning pale to see the remains.

 

A loud scream rose into the air as the boy covered his mouth, choking back furious sobs. Everywhere, people gasped, and pointed. No one offered to help.

 

“Just a lonely person on the street.”

 

“Just another ordinary to meet.”

 

“Just another suicidal freak.”

 

“Just glad it wasn’t me.”

 

That’s what they’d say. That’s what they’d all say. The boy shook his head, throwing himself into the arms of his elder, sobs rising into the air, being drowned out by the scolds of the crowd and the echo of an ambulance in the distance. Tears streaked the pale cheeks as darkened hair hung in clumps against high cheekbones. As the two embraced, a single motion was the only signal of life given from that who fell.

 

Noticed of course.

 

It’s not something you’d miss.

 

And the crowd stared in awe as the ecstatic boy knelt next to his beloved, and pulled the mangled child into his arms, blood caking his clothes as he nuzzled a bloody cheek and begged the young one to hang on.

 

“Just a little longer.”

 

“Just ‘till the ambulance gets here...”

 

Who called the ambulance? The elder of course. He watched it all. Including the fall.

 

A weak hand held firmly to its mate, tears flowing from the child, from the agony his body felt. Fire, fire, everywhere, everything was inflamed. He’d never felt such pain.

 

“Just a little longer.”

 

He wished he never had to hear such a thing again, yet seeing the face of his beloved, seeing the pain filled eyes and love filled gaze made the child want to live, not only for his beloved, but very possibly for himself.

 

But who loves me?

 

“I do.”

 

Who will care when I leave?

 

“I will.”

 

Who will remember me?

 

“I will.”

 

Who can say I make them happy to exist?

 

“I do.”

 

But the jump in itself proved enough the need to die, and the lover felt betrayed. He’d been burned, his child had been hurt. That, in itself, was unforgivable. Yet the lover felt nothing.

 

Just guilt.

 

And the child choked, blood splashing the soft clothing and the dulled cement below. Gently lifting the boy, a  kiss was placed on strawberry-blonde hair, a promise of love for eternity whispered into a tiny ear. As azure eyes slowly slid shut, the sound of the ambulance seemed so far away even as it skidded to a stop in front of the flowershop. The tiny hand dropped from the other’s, and a howl of pain-filled horror left the lips of the brunette. Ken’s child was dead.

 

Just a moment from fate.

 

Just a moment too late.

 

 

[Ende]