Dreamscape | By : sakurazukamori6 Category: +M to R > Mirage of Blaze Views: 18142 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Mirage of Blaze, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: Thank you everybody who reviewed the last chapter. All my nice reviews vanished and I don’t know where they are. I checked under my bed, my seat, behind my computer screen, in my book bag, on top of my dresser. I’m really sorry and so as a make-up I wanted to offer this chapter. Although it might not be a great present.
Thank you so much dkjoynotsignedin You’re so sweet to review twice. That really makes my day and I can’t thank you enough for the continual support and the information. Everyone who gave me information, thank you so much. It's very, very helpful.
Oh yeah, this chapter was just something fun to write. I don’t want to delve too deep into Takaya’s troubles just yet. No, we’ll leave that for chapters ahead. I think I’m planning to make this story long. If you guys think I should shorten it, then tell me.
..............................................................
Takaya, lying in his bed could hear Miya in the kitchen, the constant clatter of pots and pans, and an occasional curse word, erupting from outside his doorway as he lightly dozed. She was, most likely, making dinner, while simultaneously making a mess of things.
What a klutz.
Turning on his side, Takaya pillowed his head against his arm and for a minute or so, he found himself bleakly staring out the large picture window in his room.
After walking out on Naoe, he had briskly called a cab and within fifteen minutes, he had been picked up. It had taken about thirty minutes to get home and walking into his house at about a quarter to ten, he had taken another shower--this one cold-- for the sake of ridding the dirty feeling that had come along with Naoe’s confession. He had stood under the icy water for about an hour and had come out of the bathroom soaking wet and shivering, more from the day’s events, than from the cold water.
He had settled in his bed after that and had fitfully slept the rest of the day away. Now it was evening, and the light filtering through his curtain-less window was dim and struggling to sustain itself under the descending sun.
Poignant sunsets...he was really getting sick of heartbreak at this time of the day. Couldn’t Naoe have chosen to tell him these things on a rainy day? --At least sparing him the memory of the pier-- Better yet, couldn’t Naoe have just shot him on the spot? That would have been acceptable too.
Groaning and turning back on his other side to face the door, Takaya could see Naoe’s jacket draped over the chair by his desk.
This was hopeless.
Lying back down, so he was now looking up at the ceiling fan, Takaya closed his eyes, hoping that Naoe’s cigarettes wouldn’t miraculously be floating over his head, because it seemed that everywhere he had turned today, there was something to remind him of the older man.
Takaya not up to taking the chance, rolled onto his side again. He felt like he was five again, remembering those times he had been made to go to sleep too early and for hours had tossed around childishly in his bed, disappointed that he couldn’t go outside and play.
Takaya kicked the covers from the bed.
If only it was as simple a matter as wanting to go outside and play. Oh, those were the days.
He shouldn’t be making himself depressed over a man that was clearly insane, clinically insane if he was going to get technical. Seriously somebody had to check Naoe into a mental institute. Maybe he should get Chiaki on that pronto, because obviously leaving psychosis unchecked led to horrible consequences.
Takaya, turning on his side for the tenth time caught sight of Naoe’s jacket again.
He got up and walking over to his desk, sat in the chair, taking Naoe’s jacket off the back of the chair and holding it in his hands. He looked it over.
‘Oh well, might as well get this out of my system while I still can.’
Takaya, touching the lapels of the jacket could still smell faint traces of Naoe’s aftershave on the collar and bringing the suit jacket closer to his nose, he buried his face in the material.
This was pathetic. This was beyond pathetic. He knew it and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was in love with a man, who had raped his…wife in a past life and then trapped his soul in her body just to be with him. Sick was the first word to come to mind, twisted was another; utterly romantic in some baffling way was something entirely else.
Man, while Chiaki was at it, he might as well check him into that mental institution as well, because he had certainly lost it if he even had a smidgen of feeling left for Naoe.
Takaya, hugging the jacket to his chest rolled his chair so he was now facing his wooden desk.
He then proceeded to repeatedly hit his head against the polished oak. Maybe his sanity would tumble out of the nook it had lodged itself in upon meeting Naoe. Maybe he could go back to being fun-loving Takaya again. Okay, maybe he could just go back to plain old Takaya: the kid, who would beat you up just for looking at him cock-eyed during lunch, or the Takaya, who would rather step on flora rather than wonder what type of plants Naoe kept in his house. The Takaya, who would have laughed in your face and probably pointed if you told him there was a cool Buddhist priest out there. The Takaya, who would have never cried on that pier, heartbroken and angry because he had fallen in love, not under his own terms and was helpless to stop it.
He hugged the jacket tighter in his arms and stilling his head against the desk, he listened to something shatter in the kitchen.
Miya had probably broken another plate.
Reluctantly sitting up in his swivel chair, Takaya spotted a slightly ajar drawer. He went to pull it open, but like him it was reluctant, so he had to lift the drawer, while pulling to avoid the jam. It was really a hassle and he didn’t know why he was going through the trouble, and at the first glance of what was in this mysterious drawer, he felt like shutting it back again.
Staring him in the face, like some spiteful creature was a packet of Naoe’s cigarettes, his brand and everything.
‘Mementoes of Love’
‘How frickin’ touching.’
He had totally forgotten about these. It was the day he’d gotten jumped by those assholes-- damn talk about a bunch of assholes. Couldn’t a man just sit quietly on the sidewalk and not have to worry about being stepped on? Or people knocking down his pack of cigs? Really, the nerve of some people.
Takaya, reaching into the drawer picked up the pack and as he was opening it, he could see only one sad and lonely cigarette standing in the box. It made for a very fitting picture. Loneliness was the theme of the day, after all.
Takaya made a note to himself, that he should never try to talk himself out of a slump. He just made things worse.
The great wallower of sorrow that he was, and all.
Miya had been quiet for some time and Takaya wondered if his sister was done wrecking the kitchen. He heard her socked feet pad across the floor and stop right in front of his door. He then heard her hesitantly knock, when no answer came, she knocked for a second time and then gave the announcement of the year.
“Dinner’s ready.”
To bad too, because even though she was a wreaking ball in the kitchen, Miya was a good cook. He’d feel bad about wanting to pass up dinner, but what choice did he have? The breakfast from this morning hadn’t digested yet, which was strange enough, because he thought by now he’d be ravenous.
It was like Naoe’s words had anchored themselves onto the food and with enough weight had permanently settled it at the bottom of his stomach, the nourishment from the meal stripped away and swallowed by Naoe’s own needs. It made him feel heavy, like he had swallowed lead, but it also made him feel surprisingly empty.
Takaya wondered if this was what...infatuation felt like because if this was it, he’d rather the ability to eat any day.
Could this be why Naoe never ate anything? It would make sense. Takaya didn’t even want to chance some rice. He’d probably hurl it up and that would upset the hell out of his sister because one, she’d think her cooking was bad, and well, two didn’t matter much since he’d have to clean it up.
Did Naoe always feel sick like this? God, Takaya couldn’t fathom feeling this way for a day, but for four hundred years, Naoe had pined over Lord Kagetora. That seriously had to do something to a guy’s health and ego.
He didn’t answer Miya when she had asked him the million-dollar question again. So like baby sisters everywhere, Ms. Miya walked into his room without a knock or a shout. He’d forgotten to lock his door and that would have caused him a lot of embarrassment if she had walked in during the snuggling session. Speaking of, Takaya looked over at the desk, the jacket still strewn over it, arms outstretched like it was embracing the wood.
Miya walked over to him and like inquisitive, baby sisters everywhere, asked him whose jacket that was.
Why couldn’t it be his jacket? Couldn’t he have nice things? Apparently Miya didn’t think so.
Well here comes the big brothers everywhere response.
“None of your business.”
Miya acted like she hadn’t heard him and catching sight of the pack of cigarettes on his desk, she gave him another brain buster.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
Big Brothers Everywhere Response Part II:
“None of your damn business.”
This was fun because Miya, unlike normal girls, or normal people for that matter never got offended at his words. She just brushed him off, like lint or dirt.
Now that he thought about it, that was kind of disrespectful, since he was her aniki. Big brothers should have say and swaying power, yet Miya didn’t understand this concept.
“Whose jacket is that really? Is it your boyfriend’s?”
Screeeeeech!
Takaya stared at her dumbfounded for a minute, not understanding the logic of teenage girls, actually singular, he didn’t understand this one particular teenage girl, who was currently laughing at him and hitting him in the arm.
He was tempted to answer yes, so in the spirit of reverse psychology he did.
“Yes, it’s my boyfriend’s jacket, Miya. He’s pickin’ me up in an hour and I gotta get this ready for him.” He gave Miya a ‘what the hell are you smokin’ look and then pointing toward the open door, waited for her to show herself out.
She did, after a moment of more little sister snooping and then, as she was about to close the door behind her, she stopped.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the wa”-Takaya halted in his sentence, because Miya’s face had gotten serious all of a sudden and he could figure that his little sister had something important to say to him.
“I...hope you eat something, Takaya.” She sadly smiled at him, softly closing the door behind her. Takaya was left to mull over her words, as he listened to her muffled feet walk back to the kitchen.
Miya had always been perceptive to his moods, so it was no surprise that she thought something was eating at him. It was kind of sweet to have his little sister worrying about him, although that was the last thing he needed her to be doing. Life was hard enough for her, with no parents and school competitive, as always, he was just sorry that he could never make life easier for her. He really believed she deserved the world.
But before he could even attempt to solve her problems, he had to first start on his.
..............................................................
A/N: I like angry, sarcastic Takaya.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo