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neko_kirin3104I did say this was coming... ^-^V
All remaining chapters will be posted within the next three days.
This is coming in super-uber late for the Halloween, but it has to be let go.
Gomen... m(_ _)m
Ii Fufu No Hi Drabbles will resume on Wednesday. ^_____^<333
067. Wave
Pair/s: Ohno/Sho
Prompt: 055 Wave
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 941
Summary: Satoshi has haunting dreams at night, too.
Series: Prism (formerly, Waku Waku Orphans)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
Satoshi would often dream of a house by the lake.
Of a quiet little grove beside it, where he would always find himself sitting beside a tree, hugging his knees close as he rocked back and forth, back and forth, in a lousy attempt to calm the fitful pounding in his chest.
He would steal glances at the house, some several strides away, and a biting chill would run down his spine, making him shiver and gasp and rock himself back and forth harder, faster; hugging his knees closer to himself while over and over he chanted a name he could never quite recall once he opened his eyes.
Sometimes, the dream would end there. Still other times, it would stretch on longer to see him crawling towards the eerily tranquil lake, his arms and legs shaking as he dragged his weight along the ground; grass, twigs, and dirt sticking to his pants, digging into his palms.
He didn’t know what it was he had wanted to see. Or why he felt reluctant, nerves freezing over and numbing up with dread, to take himself to the very edge of the water and take a peek. Just a peek. To see what was in that lake that had so upset him that he could still feel the sticky traces of tears and snot on his face.
In the dream’s later incarnations, there would also be a stinging pain on his cheek, an unbroken ringing in his ears, and the tangy taste of blood in his mouth. Much like the time when Aunt Matsuko had slapped him for trying to runaway, except that somehow he knew this wasn’t Aunt Matsuko’s fault and that it had absolutely nothing to do with him wanting to run away.
On the contrary, he felt like he should start running.
Running fast and never looking back—
He would open his eyes in the early morning and lie awake in bed thinking about this for some time. Turning it over and over in his head, trying to make sense of it and the odd mix of emotions that would be gripping at his chest, curdling in his gut
But no matter how hard he tried, he’d always find himself understanding even less than he did before he started pondering.
And after a while, he just stopped caring.
Yet, the dream kept coming back to haunt him every night.
He could still vividly remember the first time he laid eyes on Sho and how he felt an instant attraction for the boy sprawled out flat on the mess hall floor like a trampled frog that had seen better days.
Everybody had been laughing, and Kazunari’s smirk told Satoshi enough.
He watched in utter fascination, from the doorway because he had been late coming down, as Sho picked himself up from the floor and bravely rounded up on Kazunari.
Kazunari affected an exaggerated pout that only made the already boisterous laughter erupt into a more boisterous roar. Satoshi himself was soon joining in, and Sho’s glare was just as soon fixed on him.
The hesitation was clear on Headmaster Hatori’s eyes when Satoshi went to him right after breakfast to ask that Sho be transferred to his room.
“Kazunari is gonna end up killing that newcomer,” he said, taking huge efforts not to look at the hulking portrait of Aunt Matsuko’s bust hanging on the wall behind the headmaster’s table. He never did like that portrait. “He’s gonna be staying in my room from now on, okay?”
“O-Okay, Oh-chan.” Headmaster Hatori croaked, nervously patting a handkerchief to his forehead.
Satoshi was on his way to the door when he suddenly felt a rather gripping urge to look around and stare at the portrait he had just been taking great pains to ignore.
Aunt Matsuko’s emasculating scowl looked more taunting then than it ever did. Her eyes seemed to squint into a sharper look of objection, a silent threat trying to reach out from beyond the grave.
He barely shuddered when he gave Headmaster Hatori a slight bow, a mere nod of the head, before stepping out of the office.
Satoshi spent most of that first night with Sho in a daze. The good kind. Not the one that sent him in a corner shutting himself down every month on the 7th as an atonement for Aunt Matsuko’s death.
This one with Sho was different.
Satoshi hardly even bothered with the flitting traces of his recurring dream, when he woke out of it in the middle of the night to hear Sho whining and whimpering from the other bed.
He initially thought it was funny, and was already planning on teasing his new roommate about it in the morning as a way of breaking the ice, when the boy suddenly mumbled a name that froze Satoshi’s heart.
Sho said it a second time, and Satoshi had had to grab his chest and swallow hard, lest his heart might jump right out of his mouth.
The third time sent him kneeling on the floor beside Sho’s bed, leaning his face closer to the boy’s, and straining his ear to make sure he’d hear the next one right—
“Yumiko...”
There was a painful tug in Satoshi’s chest that rather quickly swelled into an odd sense of amusement. Because somewhere in his subconscious a block had just been dislodged, and he was suddenly remembering the name he had been chanting in his own dream—
“Yumiko...”
It didn’t come to him all at once, but Satoshi had always felt it since then—
“Yumiko...”
Who Sho was and the curious way that their lives were connected—
“...M-o-m...”
Next >>>>>
All remaining chapters will be posted within the next three days.
This is coming in super-uber late for the Halloween, but it has to be let go.
Gomen... m(_ _)m
Ii Fufu No Hi Drabbles will resume on Wednesday. ^_____^<333
067. Wave
Pair/s: Ohno/Sho
Prompt: 055 Wave
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 941
Summary: Satoshi has haunting dreams at night, too.
Series: Prism (formerly, Waku Waku Orphans)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
Satoshi would often dream of a house by the lake.
Of a quiet little grove beside it, where he would always find himself sitting beside a tree, hugging his knees close as he rocked back and forth, back and forth, in a lousy attempt to calm the fitful pounding in his chest.
He would steal glances at the house, some several strides away, and a biting chill would run down his spine, making him shiver and gasp and rock himself back and forth harder, faster; hugging his knees closer to himself while over and over he chanted a name he could never quite recall once he opened his eyes.
Sometimes, the dream would end there. Still other times, it would stretch on longer to see him crawling towards the eerily tranquil lake, his arms and legs shaking as he dragged his weight along the ground; grass, twigs, and dirt sticking to his pants, digging into his palms.
He didn’t know what it was he had wanted to see. Or why he felt reluctant, nerves freezing over and numbing up with dread, to take himself to the very edge of the water and take a peek. Just a peek. To see what was in that lake that had so upset him that he could still feel the sticky traces of tears and snot on his face.
In the dream’s later incarnations, there would also be a stinging pain on his cheek, an unbroken ringing in his ears, and the tangy taste of blood in his mouth. Much like the time when Aunt Matsuko had slapped him for trying to runaway, except that somehow he knew this wasn’t Aunt Matsuko’s fault and that it had absolutely nothing to do with him wanting to run away.
On the contrary, he felt like he should start running.
Running fast and never looking back—
He would open his eyes in the early morning and lie awake in bed thinking about this for some time. Turning it over and over in his head, trying to make sense of it and the odd mix of emotions that would be gripping at his chest, curdling in his gut
But no matter how hard he tried, he’d always find himself understanding even less than he did before he started pondering.
And after a while, he just stopped caring.
Yet, the dream kept coming back to haunt him every night.
+++
He could still vividly remember the first time he laid eyes on Sho and how he felt an instant attraction for the boy sprawled out flat on the mess hall floor like a trampled frog that had seen better days.
Everybody had been laughing, and Kazunari’s smirk told Satoshi enough.
He watched in utter fascination, from the doorway because he had been late coming down, as Sho picked himself up from the floor and bravely rounded up on Kazunari.
Kazunari affected an exaggerated pout that only made the already boisterous laughter erupt into a more boisterous roar. Satoshi himself was soon joining in, and Sho’s glare was just as soon fixed on him.
The hesitation was clear on Headmaster Hatori’s eyes when Satoshi went to him right after breakfast to ask that Sho be transferred to his room.
“Kazunari is gonna end up killing that newcomer,” he said, taking huge efforts not to look at the hulking portrait of Aunt Matsuko’s bust hanging on the wall behind the headmaster’s table. He never did like that portrait. “He’s gonna be staying in my room from now on, okay?”
“O-Okay, Oh-chan.” Headmaster Hatori croaked, nervously patting a handkerchief to his forehead.
Satoshi was on his way to the door when he suddenly felt a rather gripping urge to look around and stare at the portrait he had just been taking great pains to ignore.
Aunt Matsuko’s emasculating scowl looked more taunting then than it ever did. Her eyes seemed to squint into a sharper look of objection, a silent threat trying to reach out from beyond the grave.
He barely shuddered when he gave Headmaster Hatori a slight bow, a mere nod of the head, before stepping out of the office.
+++
Satoshi spent most of that first night with Sho in a daze. The good kind. Not the one that sent him in a corner shutting himself down every month on the 7th as an atonement for Aunt Matsuko’s death.
This one with Sho was different.
Satoshi hardly even bothered with the flitting traces of his recurring dream, when he woke out of it in the middle of the night to hear Sho whining and whimpering from the other bed.
He initially thought it was funny, and was already planning on teasing his new roommate about it in the morning as a way of breaking the ice, when the boy suddenly mumbled a name that froze Satoshi’s heart.
Sho said it a second time, and Satoshi had had to grab his chest and swallow hard, lest his heart might jump right out of his mouth.
The third time sent him kneeling on the floor beside Sho’s bed, leaning his face closer to the boy’s, and straining his ear to make sure he’d hear the next one right—
“Yumiko...”
There was a painful tug in Satoshi’s chest that rather quickly swelled into an odd sense of amusement. Because somewhere in his subconscious a block had just been dislodged, and he was suddenly remembering the name he had been chanting in his own dream—
“Yumiko...”
It didn’t come to him all at once, but Satoshi had always felt it since then—
“Yumiko...”
Who Sho was and the curious way that their lives were connected—
“...M-o-m...”
Next >>>>>
