Cruel

Disclaimer:
Not mine – don’t sue.

A/N: Okay…this is a pretty harsh fic. Yuki fans be warned. I am a huge Shu x Yuki fan…but this
just refused to leave my head until I got it out. I think part of it is I’m
just tired of Shuichi being so complacent all of the time. *I* certainly
wouldn’t put up with everyone’s shit the way that he does. No matter how much I
loved someone…


Gah! Anyways…don’t say I didn’t warn you! Please no flames…that’s what this warning
is for, and I *do* bite back.

There is also a lot OOC on Shuichi’s part.

On with the One-shot!

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Cruel

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It hurts…you
know…

“Yuki…I love you.”


“…brat…”


~%~**~%~


I want it all back…everything he’s taken from me…

“Yuki?”

“…what?...”

“Do you love me?”

“…of course not…”

~%~**~%~

My laughter…

“Look at us…aren’t we cute, Yuki?”

“There is no ‘we’…brat…”

~%~**~%~

My smile…

“Yuki…you’re so mean…”

“Well you annoy me.”

~%~**~%~

My innocence…

“Can we stay just like this, Yuki?”

“I have…other…things in mind…”

~%~**~%~

He was like me once…I suppose. Before he had his virtue beaten out of him. The man is an
enigma to me. It’s been three years and still…he treats me as a child. I am no
child…you’d think that after having his way with me more times than I can count
he’d realize that. I try. I try so hard to be the genki Shuichi he seems so
fond of torturing, hoping that maybe one day, I can free him from whatever
prison he has locked himself inside of.

It’s inevitable…one of us has to break.

His attacks are vicious and wound more than mere flesh. His words…they’ve changed
me. At first they only hurt and made me think that maybe I *was* an idiot.
Overtime the pain has turned to bitterness…he loathes himself so, yet seems to
aspire for me to *become* him.

It’s an endless cycle.

He leaves…I chase him. I stopped asking myself why a long time ago…because I never have an
answer. Do I love him? Yes. Do I hate him? Most definitely. He’s been my
teacher. I learned how to love…and what love can do to you. I’ve thought many
times about exposing this darkness to him…but I can’t. He still has some warped
sense of ‘nobility’. Were I to show him this, he would undoubtedly leave me…
‘for my own good’ he would say. And I would be no better off. It’s too late
now. Sometimes…I think that I’m still here so that, one day, I can see the pain
in *his* eyes for once. Maybe it will release me…set me free from the cold
golden gaze that seems to hold me captive.

Some might think that it is easier to laugh like a child and gaze at everyone with wide,
violet eyes. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

I want it all back. I gave, expecting nothing in return…but now I have nothing left. I want
it all back…and I want to take a part of him with me.

Some moments…like this one…when he sighs heavily while still inside me, exhausted
and too spent to crush the dignity I have left…I can almost forgive him. No one
will ever fit me…fill me…like this – completing me and ripping me open
simultaneously. I reach my shaky hand up to his sweat drenched blonde locks and
stroke his hair softly.

“Yuki?”

“Mm?” is all I get in y. y.

“I love you.”

Say it…I know you will…you call me ‘baka’ so often one might think it was my name…

“Baka. You always say that.”

“…I know, but…”

“What do you expect me to say? After all this time?”

I sigh and offer him my usual, feigned, bright smile. “I don’t expect *anything* from you
Yuki.”

Least of all, love…

I wonder what I would do if he said it back. The notion has always been so unrealistic that I
haven’t afforded myself the time to consider it. A part of me would like to
think that I’d throw myself into his arms, kiss his face through my tears of
joy and that we’d live happily ever after. Not so long ago…that would have been
true. Another, deeper, and ultimately more realistic part of me thinks that I
would cry. I would cry for him…the last of his walls he’s so carefully built
being torn down. Because a part of me knows that when they do come down…it will
be too late for us…and I will cry for him, because I will finally be free. Who
will rebuild his walls?

“Just what do you mean by that?” He sounds a bit offended.

“It’s simple, Yuki.” I say with unimaginable amounts of innocence for one just thoroughly
ravaged. “You can’t love…but that doesn’t mean *I* can’t love *you*!”

I watch as his eyes widen slightly. He’s obviously upset tI woI would say something like that
so casually. I know you, Yuki…I *am* you. The difference, my dear, is that I am
*better* at it. I can see it now…he wants to deny it. He wants to scoff
indignantly and claim that he, in fact, can love. He won’t do it. He’s knows
that as well as I do. To admit that would push us to a crucial and impassible
juncture. To admit that he is capable of love would force him to tell me he
loves me…or that he doesn’t.

He won’t do it. Yuki Eiri is far too selfish for that. I’ve never seen anyone so sorry for
himself. He’s been coddled by that bastard Tohma for years. My affections did
not help this situation, I will admit. He is surrounded by unconditional
love…yet continues to insist that his life is filled with nothing but pain.

I can see it sometimes, Yuki. I can see it in the way you look at me…or when you brush the
hair from my face when you think I am asleep. You need me. But alas…not enough
to care whether or not you destroy me. If your life is so horrible…why must you
meld it with mine? Do you even realize that your words, your actions harm me
more than any blow ever could? Even with Aizawa…I did not break down. I held
on, and told myself that *you* would make it all better. You were my strength.
Did you even care? After what happened to you in New York…still…you gave me no
comfort…no solace.

I hug him tightly and nip his ear. He hates that. I smile at his l. “l. “It’s okay…Yuki
doesn’t have to love me…”

At some point he has pulled out of me and lit a cigarette. I push him a little more…must be
the masochist in me.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

He does not answer me with words. He studies me for a moment and looks as though he wants
to lick that particular spot on my neck again. He appears as though he wants to
say…something. At first I am confused and happy, in spite of myself, that maybe
he will relent. My hope is short lived as he pushes me out of his bed, naked
and covered in his sweat, his come.

“No. Get out, brat, I’m tired.”

That’s it…one of us has to break – and I will be *damned* if it will be me.

Not this time. Not again.

A series of misfortunate circumstances has turned you into a cruel man, Yuki. But, unlike
you, I have been *trained* in cruelty. I plaster the pleading, wide eyed; look
on my face again as a few tears slip down my cheeks. I am unaware if I
purposely shed them or not. I can never tell anymore.

“Yuki?”

He growls from the bed, turned away from me. He turns away when he doesn’t want me to see his
expression. He is either unobservant, which I doubt, or he really thinks I am
stupid. As though I can’t see his face in the window. I slip my shorts on and
hang my head low.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. Goodbye Yuki.”

I make sure I am gone by the time he finally rolls over and asks hat hat the hell I mean by
that. I’ve done this before, and he thinks that, like the other times, I will
still be standing in his room, heartbroken, trying to coax affection from him.
If I am gone, he will follow. And follow he does. He has slipped on his pants
and pads in the kitchen to find me, knife in hand, slumped on the floor, and
bleeding. The cut is not too deep…it should cause no real damage. But it is
strategically placed and bleeds enough to look otherwise. His eyes widen in
shock and he throws himself into the floor beside me, slapping the knife out of
my hand. I look up at him, real tears pouring out of my eyes…though I can’t
imagine why.

“I’m sorry Yuki…I wasn’t good enough.”

He grips my shoulders and squeezes his eyes shut. Even now, when he thinks I am in danger,
he hides himself from me.

“Baka!” He shouts, as though is insults will heal me…make me like I was. “What the hell is
wrong with you?”

“I tried, Y I t I tried to make you love me…but I just ruin your life…”

When a long moment passes and he says nothing, I try another approach.

“I understand though…I’m…tainted.”

“Wha?” He asks, shock apparent in his voice. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Aizawa…what happened. I know it was a while ago…but you don’t want me. I’m…ruined.”

I know what buttons to push to knock against his walls. My comments about Aizawa only
berate him with his own experiences. He relives them, and his subconscious
tells him that he, himself, is tainted. He blames himself for what happened to
me. I don’t though. I don’t blame him. It would be easy to…but he has enough of
my contempt already. Besides…it really wasn’t his fault. I touch his face
softly and whisper to him.

“It’s okay…I understand. I get it now…if you can’t love me after all this time…I don’t want
to be here…”

I scramble for the knife. This is harder than I thought. I shudder to think how long we’d go
round and round in our cycle if I hadn’t resorted to drastic measures if even
under such circumstances he remains so detached.

He, of course, beats me to it. I let him. I haven’t let Yuki Eiri suck *all* the life out of
me…not yet. He throws the weapon/utensil away and out of reach and grabs me,
yanking my head to his shoulder.

“Shuichi…”

He said my name. How cute. How rare. How late.

“Yuki?” I still say it with the wonder that my voice held the day I found out his name. I
knoat, at, at least, is not an act.

He looks pained…like the words *physically* hurt him. Maybe they do.

“It’s not true. You aren’t tainted…” He hugs me then and mumbles into my hair again and
again. “So pure…so pure…”

Are those…yes…those are tears against my collar. Yuki is crying. I force myself to
remember the last three years of my life, or else my resolve will crumble and
tomorrow, when again I am broken and empty from his carelessness, I will be
back to square one.

“…Yuki…” I tilt my head and kiss him, tasting the salt of both our tears on my lips and
tongue. He kisses me back with an intensity usually reserved for when he is
drunk and wants to forget his pain in the slickness of my mouth. Now…the
clincher.

“I want to die…”

His hands tighten in my hair and he brings his forehead to mine. “Baka! Don’t say that!
Never say that!”

It was only a half lie. Sometimes I do want to die. I can’t imagine my life without Yuki Eiri
in it…in me. But this is a slow death…a poisoning. He slowly kills all that I
once was and replaces it with *this* person. I hardly recognize myself anymore
and it disgusts me. I want my life back. The lie comes from the fact that even
though, at times, I think it would be easier to just let go…I won’t do it. Not
because I am afraid…oh no. Unlike Yuki, I am not such a selfish bastard as to
think I can just throw away my life with no regard for those that love me. My
family…my friends…my fans…my band. I smile at the thought. Hiro…my best friend.
He knows something is wrong…and I have given him ample opportunity to see…I
just don’t think he wants to. He loved me, you know. The genki singer that
slept beside him after one of our pillow fights. Though, to my knowledge, those
feelings have passed, he still wants to see me as I was. Innocent…naïve…happy,
and untouched.

I grasp Yuki’s shoulders tightly, ignoring the blood I am getting on him. “…Yuki…”

He kisses me…hard…long…desperate. I run my uninjured hand nto nto his hair and pull him
to the floor with me as I nuzzle his face with my nose. He lae doe down and
sniffles a bit before kissing the tears from my cheeks. I cup his face gently
and force him to look at me.

“Do you hate me Yuki?”

“N..no…” he stammers.

I start to cry again. “What then? Help me Yuki…it hurts…so much.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Maybe I should help him.

I stare at him hard, expressing the gravity of the situation.

“Do you love me, Yuki?”

Slowly…achingly slowly…he nods.

I sniffle and pout a bit. “…say it…”

He looks surprised, as though the words were poison and one syllable will kill him
instantly.

He should be so lucky. I’ve been saying them for years and it’s been a slow, painful death.

I stroke his cheek reassuringly and glance at the knife. I know he saw it. I meant for him
to.

“Do you love me, Yuki?”

He stares into my eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I…I love you, Shuichi.” He gasps out as he collapses on top of me, his lithe body shaking
with sobs.

Ah…freedom.

I smile at him and run a finger down his neck and chest. I can see he is slightly startled at
the boldness of my actions.

“You don’t even know what that word means.”

His mouth stops moving half way through his smile as I squirm out from underneath him. I
run a hand though my hair as I head for the door.

And then I am free.

I can be cruel too, Eiri.

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End

I have *no*
clue where this came from. Okay…that’s a big fat lie. I love stories like
this…the cruelty and all. Call me a sadist…whatever. What I don’t get is why I
chose these characters for it. I mean…I am a *huge* Shu/Yuki fan. I think it’s
because I’ve been reading all night and Shu just keeps getting walked on in
every one of them (and in the series as well). I guess I’m just kind of tired
of Shu giving 150% and getting 10% back…but that okay because it’s just ‘Yuki’s
way’. Not to mention Tohma being a bastard…grrrr….

Anyhoo…please review. No flames, please. I did warn you.

Love and
Kisses,

Reika