[fanfic] Fallen Sequel: Flight
Jan. 31st, 2005 01:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mwuahahahaa.
Sequel to 'Fallen' (http://www.mischif.net/pine/fallen.htm)
Long time fic in progress, have a final fic for this AU that's about half done too.
I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie.
So this is good-bye.
-Moby "Porcelain"
¤ ¤ ¤
Flight
By Icka! M. Chif
¤ ¤ ¤
Flight.
I dream at night.
Not of flying, no not quite yet. Although there is a man there, in my dreams, that flies. He's got wings, beautiful wings that constantly change. Sometimes they're glowing white feathered wings, then they're coal black bat wing, and the next moment, they're iridescence like a dragonflies wing, and then sometimes they're something that I can't quite describe.
He invites me to fly with him, teasing me, brushing my fingers with his and playfully tugs me in the air, as uncatchable as a breeze.
I can't quite fly yet, but I've discovered that I love to float. To just lean back and... float. There's no top, no bottom, no up, no down, just... the feeling of air brushing my skin and the unique sensation of floating. He seems to find it amusing, the man who flies. He's like the air itself, he never stops moving.
I don't mind, and delight in teasing him back and making him laugh. It's like we've been friends forever and a day, even if the only time I see him is when I dream.
Then I wake up.
Gravity sucks.
But in this case I don't mind the fact that I woke up. There's a white shadow on my window, meaning that I have company.
It's Kid the Phantom Thief.
Once, not too terribly long ago, I would have been furious at that fact, and would have been ready to knock him silly with the nearest blunt object. But since the Kid's 'death' several months ago and the start of our conversations, I'm almost eager for our night time rooftop visits. He comes once or twice a week, when the sky is clear.
It's rather amusing. For someone who developed his reputation by breaking and entering, he's rather adamant about not coming into my room, even if invited. It's a rather amusing quirk for someone that I'm starting to think of as a friend.
He told me, the first night that he stopped by my rooftop for tea, that he wanted someone to understand. I think I'm learning to.
That's not all I'm learning. One night, on a fit of whimsy, he taught me how to have a high English tea, and had me rolling with laughter over his fine British accent. I think Hakuba-kun would have fits. Another night, cursing at the fact that Dad moved the ladder to the rooftop, he taught me how to curse in many different languages. Cursing truly is an art form, and one that I discovered I have a knack for. I can now out-swear Dad in Japanese, and curse for 10 minutes in 3 other languages without repeating myself.
That's nothing. The Kid curses fluently in 9.
One night, we just sat there and watched the stars with out a word said the entire night. It was rather comfortable, just the 2 of us, the stars above, a pot of tea, and a plate of mocchi that I brought with me. It was something I never would have believed possible to do, to be that content not to talk.
I'm teaching him too, what I can. Christmas isn't too far away, and I'm working on a scarf for Kaito. It's a motley coloured thing, black and dark grey with bits of blue mixed in with it. The Kid seems to find it fascinating, so I taught him how to knit. I don't know how a thief could find knitting useful, but the Kid seems to be interested in learning everything. A Jack of all trades, as it was.
I told him jokingly one night as we teasingly flirted with each other that if it wasn't for the fact that someone already held my heart that I could fall for him. I ended up telling him about Kaito. How he's a pain in the butt, always teasing me, but deep down I know he really does care. He's cold, but sweet.
The Kid just looked quietly pleased, and blithely dodged my questions about a possible love interest in his life. But I think he's got someone he likes too.
One night we got into a conversation about the concepts of good an evil. If good done in the name of evil is still good, and if evil done in the name of good is still evil. It took me a while before I realised that he was talking about himself.
I paused for a little while, getting my own thoughts organized. After a few minutes, I came to a realisation that probably shocked him more than it did me. And it was a surprise to me.
I told him that despite what he had done in the past, deep down I thought that he was a good person.
The relief from him was almost tangible.
As I climb out the window, I wonder what I'll learn tonight.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
Life looks different when you look at it through a monocle. It's just an ordinary piece of glass, it's not even curved to make things look clearer or fuzzier, framed by metal and a bit of plastic.
And yet... when I look through it, it's like peering into a different world.
Then there's the monocle game. I keep it with me at all times as a good luck charm, in a small blue pouch I sewed a few nights after he gave it to me. Dad doesn't even know what it is, he just figures it's one of those silly High School girl type things.
But you hold the monocle out and look at different people through it. Not as if they were framed by it, which is also fun, but like they are wearing it. It's like when you were a little kid and held your thumb up close to your face to block out someone else's.
Keiko in a monocle looks silly, primarily because of the glasses. Akako-chan looks like some sort of espionage spy. Hakuba looks like some noble, ready to fight or drink tea. Kaito, stepping into the mottled shade of the trees looks like...
He looks like the Kid.
Or at least like the Kid did, before he gave me the monocle I was holding. My hand curls around it, hiding it from sight as if to shield it, shield me from the truth that is sinking into my brain.
Kaito smiles as he walks towards me, eyes crinkled shut, his footsteps light and energetic, as if he is innocent from what he has been hiding from me.
Then he opens his eyes and any deniably I might have been able to fool myself is gone. Because I know those eyes.
I had laughed with them, cried with them, raged with them, seen them happy and sad and all the extremes in between. They were as young as a new-born and as old as a mountain, all rolled into one azure gaze.
Kaito was the Kid.
The bell rings, signalling the end of the lunch period.
With an inarticulate cry, I rise to my feet, pushing past him and running back into the school building, the nose piece of the monocle cutting into my hand. What had once been smooth cool and mysterious now has edges.
I dash through the building, running on automatic to the one place I figured I was safe, the girls toilet. It was quiet, it was solitary, and best of all, no boys were allowed. And if any girls did come in and ask, I can chalk it up to a bad fight with Kaito.
A really bad fight.
The bathroom's cool, the tile wall muting the outside sounds. Everyone's heading to class, leaving me in the solitude of my temporary sanctuary. I'm going to have to head to class soon, back next to Kaito, but for the moment, all I can seem to hear is my heartbeat in my ears.
I'm furious. I'm scared. I'm such a maelstrom of emotion right now it's amazing I can find the ground at all. I want to punch something and scream until my voice goes numb. I want to curl into a little ball and sob until my eyes fall out. I want tell someone, but don't think the words will make it past my throat. I want to pass out into the comforting numbness of not-feel and I want answers.
The door opens and a blonde haired girl I've never seen before storms in. "What did I do NOW?!"
It's all I can do not to stare. Actually, I think I'm gaping at him anyway, my jaw is somewhere around the floor and I can't quite seem to get it back up. That's Kaito's face and those are his eyes, only they look a little bit more green than their normal dark blue, but that is NOT how he moves and when he did legs like that!?
He tosses his hair over his shoulder as if he's always had long hair. "What?" He demands, sounding a little sulky. "People always panic if I go to the toilet dressed as the wrong gender."
My best friend is a pervert.
Although distantly I'm pretty sure that it should be at least some small sympathy that I'm still calling him my best friend in my mind, even if I'm not sure if he really is.
Hand unsteady, although I can fool myself that it is anger causing it, I raise the monocle, the damned instrument of lies up for him to see. "You..." I can't bring myself to say the words. I can't say the words. If I say the words, then that means that it's all true.
"Oh." He stares at it for a moment as if in incomprehension, then his face falls and I can see him retreat back into himself, shutters falling over his face, his eyes, his expression. "You figured it out."
Everything fades to white as I spin, an arm flying out to strike him.
Kaito gracefully dodges, the blow never even coming close to landing, but it makes me freeze.
It's the first time I've ever lashed out at him like that, and the realisation that I meant to strike out and to -hurt- him scares me.
Yes, I chase him around with a mop, and shout at him at the top of my lungs, and occasionally even manage to hit him occasionally, but I've never meant to actually -injure- him before. It's all been in fun.
The fact that I meant to make him feel pain leaves me shaking.
"Just... get out." My fists are clutched at my sides, the monocle in one hand pressing into my palm and fingers deep enough to bleed, to hurt and gives me something to focus on, a distraction from the rage and pain. "I don't... I can't talk to you right now."
His mouth opens for a moment, to protest, and I don't think I could bear that, then he shuts it. "All right." His voice is neutrally blank as he agrees, bowing slightly as he backs up towards the door, still facing me. He's always been careful, as both Kaito and the Kid, to never show his back. Always his side or face. Always keeping my face, me keeping his face, in sight.
I turn my face away as the door opens, but it doesn't shut right away. I can see him hover in my periphery vision, framed by the doorway. "I'll... talk to you later?" He asks softly, pain as deep as my own raw wounds, perhaps deeper, resonating in the background.
I close my eyes, not wanting to give him this, He's LIED, he's the KID, he's been PLAYING with me, but he's also Kaito, he's my friend, has always been my friend no matter what name or form he's been in. The words stick in my throat, I can't say them, so I nod.
He nods in return and the door closes behind him, leaving me alone, the monocle still pressed into my hand.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
A dove lands on my windowsill, cooing softly, it's white colour against the darkness of the sky making it look as eerie as a ghost.
I open the window anyway, scarring the bird away. It flies towards the ground, landing on a hand that appeared out of the shadows.
"Kaito?" I call, equal parts pleased and confused.
He steps forward in to the light that my window casts. He's wearing dark pants and shoes like he usually does, and then a blue shirt with a loosen red tie and suspenders that are the Kids. His face is half in shadow, obscuring the half that his monocle used to hide.
"I finished the hang glider." He says softly, looking up at me with calm unreadable eyes. "Would you like to try it out?"
"With who?" I ask, unable to keep the waver out of my voice and cursing my self for it. "The Kid or Kaito?"
He pauses for a moment, the only movement is of the dove on his hand as its wings twitch. "Why not... both?"
Both.
I've known Kaito for years and years and years. He's a comfortable presence, his friendship like a warm comfortable blanket that I can wrap around me when things get chilly.
I've come to know the Kid from our chats on the rooftop. He's strange, a not quite welcome presence in my life, but an intriguing puzzle that has somehow become a constant.
They're different, and yet, they're the same.
I think I'd like to get to know both of them better.
"Okay."
Something flashes across his eyes, something sharp that sends a quick trill down my spine. "Okay?" He echoes, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost say he was dumbfounded.
I smile. "Okay."
This time he returns the smile, his eyes darkening with some sort of liquid emotion that I can't quite name, but know I already like. "Okay."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
I dream of flying.
When I'm awake, and when I'm asleep too.
And when I fly, there's a man next to me, as untameable as the wind and as warm as sunshine. His wings are beautiful, black feathers with rainbow iridescence, be they made of flesh and bone or nylon and metal.
Together, we dance through the night sky.
¤ ¤ ¤ fin ¤ ¤ ¤
[Edit: sorry, that next part isn't done and wasn't supposed to be up yet. #^^#]
Sequel to 'Fallen' (http://www.mischif.net/pine/fallen.htm)
Long time fic in progress, have a final fic for this AU that's about half done too.
I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie.
So this is good-bye.
-Moby "Porcelain"
¤ ¤ ¤
Flight
By Icka! M. Chif
¤ ¤ ¤
Flight.
I dream at night.
Not of flying, no not quite yet. Although there is a man there, in my dreams, that flies. He's got wings, beautiful wings that constantly change. Sometimes they're glowing white feathered wings, then they're coal black bat wing, and the next moment, they're iridescence like a dragonflies wing, and then sometimes they're something that I can't quite describe.
He invites me to fly with him, teasing me, brushing my fingers with his and playfully tugs me in the air, as uncatchable as a breeze.
I can't quite fly yet, but I've discovered that I love to float. To just lean back and... float. There's no top, no bottom, no up, no down, just... the feeling of air brushing my skin and the unique sensation of floating. He seems to find it amusing, the man who flies. He's like the air itself, he never stops moving.
I don't mind, and delight in teasing him back and making him laugh. It's like we've been friends forever and a day, even if the only time I see him is when I dream.
Then I wake up.
Gravity sucks.
But in this case I don't mind the fact that I woke up. There's a white shadow on my window, meaning that I have company.
It's Kid the Phantom Thief.
Once, not too terribly long ago, I would have been furious at that fact, and would have been ready to knock him silly with the nearest blunt object. But since the Kid's 'death' several months ago and the start of our conversations, I'm almost eager for our night time rooftop visits. He comes once or twice a week, when the sky is clear.
It's rather amusing. For someone who developed his reputation by breaking and entering, he's rather adamant about not coming into my room, even if invited. It's a rather amusing quirk for someone that I'm starting to think of as a friend.
He told me, the first night that he stopped by my rooftop for tea, that he wanted someone to understand. I think I'm learning to.
That's not all I'm learning. One night, on a fit of whimsy, he taught me how to have a high English tea, and had me rolling with laughter over his fine British accent. I think Hakuba-kun would have fits. Another night, cursing at the fact that Dad moved the ladder to the rooftop, he taught me how to curse in many different languages. Cursing truly is an art form, and one that I discovered I have a knack for. I can now out-swear Dad in Japanese, and curse for 10 minutes in 3 other languages without repeating myself.
That's nothing. The Kid curses fluently in 9.
One night, we just sat there and watched the stars with out a word said the entire night. It was rather comfortable, just the 2 of us, the stars above, a pot of tea, and a plate of mocchi that I brought with me. It was something I never would have believed possible to do, to be that content not to talk.
I'm teaching him too, what I can. Christmas isn't too far away, and I'm working on a scarf for Kaito. It's a motley coloured thing, black and dark grey with bits of blue mixed in with it. The Kid seems to find it fascinating, so I taught him how to knit. I don't know how a thief could find knitting useful, but the Kid seems to be interested in learning everything. A Jack of all trades, as it was.
I told him jokingly one night as we teasingly flirted with each other that if it wasn't for the fact that someone already held my heart that I could fall for him. I ended up telling him about Kaito. How he's a pain in the butt, always teasing me, but deep down I know he really does care. He's cold, but sweet.
The Kid just looked quietly pleased, and blithely dodged my questions about a possible love interest in his life. But I think he's got someone he likes too.
One night we got into a conversation about the concepts of good an evil. If good done in the name of evil is still good, and if evil done in the name of good is still evil. It took me a while before I realised that he was talking about himself.
I paused for a little while, getting my own thoughts organized. After a few minutes, I came to a realisation that probably shocked him more than it did me. And it was a surprise to me.
I told him that despite what he had done in the past, deep down I thought that he was a good person.
The relief from him was almost tangible.
As I climb out the window, I wonder what I'll learn tonight.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
Life looks different when you look at it through a monocle. It's just an ordinary piece of glass, it's not even curved to make things look clearer or fuzzier, framed by metal and a bit of plastic.
And yet... when I look through it, it's like peering into a different world.
Then there's the monocle game. I keep it with me at all times as a good luck charm, in a small blue pouch I sewed a few nights after he gave it to me. Dad doesn't even know what it is, he just figures it's one of those silly High School girl type things.
But you hold the monocle out and look at different people through it. Not as if they were framed by it, which is also fun, but like they are wearing it. It's like when you were a little kid and held your thumb up close to your face to block out someone else's.
Keiko in a monocle looks silly, primarily because of the glasses. Akako-chan looks like some sort of espionage spy. Hakuba looks like some noble, ready to fight or drink tea. Kaito, stepping into the mottled shade of the trees looks like...
He looks like the Kid.
Or at least like the Kid did, before he gave me the monocle I was holding. My hand curls around it, hiding it from sight as if to shield it, shield me from the truth that is sinking into my brain.
Kaito smiles as he walks towards me, eyes crinkled shut, his footsteps light and energetic, as if he is innocent from what he has been hiding from me.
Then he opens his eyes and any deniably I might have been able to fool myself is gone. Because I know those eyes.
I had laughed with them, cried with them, raged with them, seen them happy and sad and all the extremes in between. They were as young as a new-born and as old as a mountain, all rolled into one azure gaze.
Kaito was the Kid.
The bell rings, signalling the end of the lunch period.
With an inarticulate cry, I rise to my feet, pushing past him and running back into the school building, the nose piece of the monocle cutting into my hand. What had once been smooth cool and mysterious now has edges.
I dash through the building, running on automatic to the one place I figured I was safe, the girls toilet. It was quiet, it was solitary, and best of all, no boys were allowed. And if any girls did come in and ask, I can chalk it up to a bad fight with Kaito.
A really bad fight.
The bathroom's cool, the tile wall muting the outside sounds. Everyone's heading to class, leaving me in the solitude of my temporary sanctuary. I'm going to have to head to class soon, back next to Kaito, but for the moment, all I can seem to hear is my heartbeat in my ears.
I'm furious. I'm scared. I'm such a maelstrom of emotion right now it's amazing I can find the ground at all. I want to punch something and scream until my voice goes numb. I want to curl into a little ball and sob until my eyes fall out. I want tell someone, but don't think the words will make it past my throat. I want to pass out into the comforting numbness of not-feel and I want answers.
The door opens and a blonde haired girl I've never seen before storms in. "What did I do NOW?!"
It's all I can do not to stare. Actually, I think I'm gaping at him anyway, my jaw is somewhere around the floor and I can't quite seem to get it back up. That's Kaito's face and those are his eyes, only they look a little bit more green than their normal dark blue, but that is NOT how he moves and when he did legs like that!?
He tosses his hair over his shoulder as if he's always had long hair. "What?" He demands, sounding a little sulky. "People always panic if I go to the toilet dressed as the wrong gender."
My best friend is a pervert.
Although distantly I'm pretty sure that it should be at least some small sympathy that I'm still calling him my best friend in my mind, even if I'm not sure if he really is.
Hand unsteady, although I can fool myself that it is anger causing it, I raise the monocle, the damned instrument of lies up for him to see. "You..." I can't bring myself to say the words. I can't say the words. If I say the words, then that means that it's all true.
"Oh." He stares at it for a moment as if in incomprehension, then his face falls and I can see him retreat back into himself, shutters falling over his face, his eyes, his expression. "You figured it out."
Everything fades to white as I spin, an arm flying out to strike him.
Kaito gracefully dodges, the blow never even coming close to landing, but it makes me freeze.
It's the first time I've ever lashed out at him like that, and the realisation that I meant to strike out and to -hurt- him scares me.
Yes, I chase him around with a mop, and shout at him at the top of my lungs, and occasionally even manage to hit him occasionally, but I've never meant to actually -injure- him before. It's all been in fun.
The fact that I meant to make him feel pain leaves me shaking.
"Just... get out." My fists are clutched at my sides, the monocle in one hand pressing into my palm and fingers deep enough to bleed, to hurt and gives me something to focus on, a distraction from the rage and pain. "I don't... I can't talk to you right now."
His mouth opens for a moment, to protest, and I don't think I could bear that, then he shuts it. "All right." His voice is neutrally blank as he agrees, bowing slightly as he backs up towards the door, still facing me. He's always been careful, as both Kaito and the Kid, to never show his back. Always his side or face. Always keeping my face, me keeping his face, in sight.
I turn my face away as the door opens, but it doesn't shut right away. I can see him hover in my periphery vision, framed by the doorway. "I'll... talk to you later?" He asks softly, pain as deep as my own raw wounds, perhaps deeper, resonating in the background.
I close my eyes, not wanting to give him this, He's LIED, he's the KID, he's been PLAYING with me, but he's also Kaito, he's my friend, has always been my friend no matter what name or form he's been in. The words stick in my throat, I can't say them, so I nod.
He nods in return and the door closes behind him, leaving me alone, the monocle still pressed into my hand.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
A dove lands on my windowsill, cooing softly, it's white colour against the darkness of the sky making it look as eerie as a ghost.
I open the window anyway, scarring the bird away. It flies towards the ground, landing on a hand that appeared out of the shadows.
"Kaito?" I call, equal parts pleased and confused.
He steps forward in to the light that my window casts. He's wearing dark pants and shoes like he usually does, and then a blue shirt with a loosen red tie and suspenders that are the Kids. His face is half in shadow, obscuring the half that his monocle used to hide.
"I finished the hang glider." He says softly, looking up at me with calm unreadable eyes. "Would you like to try it out?"
"With who?" I ask, unable to keep the waver out of my voice and cursing my self for it. "The Kid or Kaito?"
He pauses for a moment, the only movement is of the dove on his hand as its wings twitch. "Why not... both?"
Both.
I've known Kaito for years and years and years. He's a comfortable presence, his friendship like a warm comfortable blanket that I can wrap around me when things get chilly.
I've come to know the Kid from our chats on the rooftop. He's strange, a not quite welcome presence in my life, but an intriguing puzzle that has somehow become a constant.
They're different, and yet, they're the same.
I think I'd like to get to know both of them better.
"Okay."
Something flashes across his eyes, something sharp that sends a quick trill down my spine. "Okay?" He echoes, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost say he was dumbfounded.
I smile. "Okay."
This time he returns the smile, his eyes darkening with some sort of liquid emotion that I can't quite name, but know I already like. "Okay."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
I dream of flying.
When I'm awake, and when I'm asleep too.
And when I fly, there's a man next to me, as untameable as the wind and as warm as sunshine. His wings are beautiful, black feathers with rainbow iridescence, be they made of flesh and bone or nylon and metal.
Together, we dance through the night sky.
¤ ¤ ¤ fin ¤ ¤ ¤
[Edit: sorry, that next part isn't done and wasn't supposed to be up yet. #^^#]
no subject
Date: 2005-02-01 12:07 am (UTC)I love how you kept the dreams. That was a very nice touch.
Minor corrections:
Then he opens his eyes and any deniably I might have been able to fool myself is gone.
That should be "deniability", but you may want to check http://www.m-w.com/ just to check.
I don't either of us have ever blushed so hard...
Has, not have. "of us" is a prepositional phrase; without, either is a singular word referring to a plural. I think. I might be wrong.
Seriously, though, that was beautiful, and haunting. I loved it. This is fanfiction writing at its finest.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-02 05:01 pm (UTC)Thank you!!! Will fix!!! XD ((GLOMPS!))
no subject
Date: 2005-02-04 11:18 pm (UTC)Anyway, may I ask something? Whatever happened to Red Thread? It seemed promising, and, well, I liked it...
no subject
Date: 2005-02-01 12:55 am (UTC)Like this just as much. ^^ Glad you continued it.
*glomp*
Date: 2005-02-01 01:33 am (UTC)Gravity sucks.
"People always panic if I go to the toilet dressed as the wrong gender."
Wonderful!
Date: 2005-02-03 11:59 pm (UTC)