Year-by-Year
-Kiseu
AU Since, he was bored and all, it wouldn't hurt if he annoy the boy, right? It wasn't like the boy—anyone—could actually see him. He could pick the boy's book up and throw it away and the boy would thought that it was because of the wind or something. The boy wouldn't know it was him. He was invisible after all. And that was why he was greatly surprised when the boy yelled at him after he threw the boy's book to the other side of the rooftop. SARUMI
K isn't mine sigh
Fushimi Saruhiko was always bored of everything—the people, the places, the world. Well, he couldn't really say that he was bored of the world because he had been stuck in this place for more than 400 (or was it 600?) years—and the buildings weren't even built at that time. This place used to be an abandoned island, filled with forests and surrounded by the sea. Well, that was until fourteen years ago.
Fourteen years ago, the government had decided to build a school on the abandoned island. The construction went for three years—trees were cut and buildings (the main building, the gyms, the dorms and else) were built. By the end of it, only 1/3 part of the island was covered by the forests while the other parts were occupied with buildings and fields. And soon, many students started attending the school.
Year-by-year passed and more students had attended the school—Ashinaka High School. And it was starting to annoy Fushimi very much. If those guys hadn't decided to build the school on the quiet and empty island he wouldn't have to deal with all these noises the students made. He just wanted to spend the rest of his (probably) never-ending life in silent, thank you very much.
He had tried a few times to get out of the place, but no matter what he did or where he went, he would surely come back to this place. It was like something is tying him to this place and he didn't know what—or who. But, he didn't really care about that. Stupid school. Stupid students. Stupid life.
Bored out of his mind, he decided to go and venture the place—and maybe, he should annoy some of the students.
With that in mind, Fushimi got down from the tree branch he was sitting on and walked to the school's main building. After about 15 minutes of walking, Fushimi reached the building. He sighed as he studied the big and white school building in front of him. If he was a mere human, he was sure he'd be tired after walking all the way here. But, fortunately—or unfortunately—he wasn't a mere human but a youkai.
Another few minutes later found Fushimi standing on the vacant rooftop. He didn't even know why he went there but whatever, he just felt like it. With a boring expression on his face, he walked further to the right side of the rooftop and stopped, staring at the scene in front of him. The place was not as empty as he thought.
There, sitting on the floor while leaning on the wall was a boy, Fushimi concluded, as the person was obviously wearing the boys' uniform. He was chewing one end of his pen while reading the book—comic?—in his hand with a serious expression on his face. Fushimi could see that the boy was really into whatever he was reading. He didn't really know, but he was sure it was still morning. So, was the boy skipping school? Well, guess what? He didn't care.
Since, he was bored and all, it wouldn't hurt if he annoy the boy, right? It wasn't like the boy—anyone—could actually see him. He could pick the boy's book up and throw it away and the boy would thought that it was because of the wind or something. The boy wouldn't know it was him. He was invisible after all.
And that was why he was greatly surprised when the boy yelled at him after he threw the boy's book to the other side of the rooftop. Fushimi eyes were widened as he stared at the boy, who was currently glaring at him. Fushimi couldn't believe it, but the boy could see him—him! Never in his a thousand or something years of his life, had someone ever seen him.
Too observed in his thought, Fushimi didn't noticed the boy had moved and was currently standing in front of him, hands clenched shut on his sides while throwing curse words towards him. Nor did he realize it when the boy brought his right hand up to punch him. After feeling the impact of the boy's fist on his face did he snapped out of his thought. Fushimi stumbled backwards and fell flat on his bottom. He brought his hand up to his bruising cheek as he looked up and saw the smug face of the boy.
"Why did you punch me?" Fushimi finally asked. The boy looked at him incredulously before giving him a glare.
"Why?" the boy repeated. "I'll tell you why, you bastard. You took my book from me and threw it away!"
Fushimi shrugged. It wasn't like he knew the boy could see him. "I didn't know you could see me," he told the boy. "I was surprised myself."
"What was that supposed to mean?" the boy asked and then shook his head. "Y'know what? I don't care. I'm not going to spend any more of my time speaking to you—and what's with that outfit?"
By the end of the question, Fushimi looked down at his outfit. He was wearing his usual outfit: a plain ankle-length navy blue kimono (the collar and the end of the sleeves were black), a black obi around his waist and a pair of geta or wooden-slippers. What's wrong with his outfit? He had always worn this outfit—there was no need for him to change—and no one ever complained. And then he remembered, no one else ever seen him.
He was about to retort but the sound of the rooftop's door opening stopped him. Soon after, a big blond guy walked towards them all the while sighing. Fushimi looked as the boy raised an eyebrow at the big guy.
"Yata, Mister Kusanagi told me to get you. He said that you need to stop skipping his classes," the blond said as he stopped right in front of the boy, Yata. Fushimi smirked. Yata, huh?
Fushimi raised an eyebrow as he saw Yata opening his mouth to speak before shutting it close in the end.
"…Fine," Yata said as he picked his bag from the ground and headed toward his thrown book. The blond boy looked at Yata as if the boy was crazy. He had actually expected Yata to say 'no' or just hit him or both. But, he wouldn't complain; he liked his body free from bruises after all.
Fushimi watched as the blond guy walked towards the exit, Yata fell a few steps behind him. He smirked as Yata threw him a dead glare before disappearing from the door. If looks could kill, Fushimi would hug and kiss Yata hard as a thank you token because he could finally die. It did sound tempting but her he was, still alive and breathing. He guessed he'll just let the boy go then…for now.
'This could be very interesting,' he mused. Maybe, he should come here again tomorrow, just in case Yata's coming again.
Fushimi did come back the next day, a bit later than the previous day, but Yata was nowhere in sight. Fushimi guessed that maybe Yata had decided to be a good boy and attend his classes. He snorted. As if the boy would do that.
Fushimi was really curious about Yata so he had gone to the Principal's office and had looked through Yata's file. According to his record, Yata was some kind of a troublemaker, a delinquent to be exact, and he wasn't really smart either. So, there was no way in hell that Yata would study, right? Or maybe he would.
He just hope the boy would come quickly (if he even intended to come, in the first place) because Fushimi wasn't actually the most patient person—youkai— to ever exist. But, whatever, it wasn't like he couldn't wait for Yata to come, right? Right.
Five minutes later, Fushimi was sitting on the floor, facing the door; hands crossed on his chest and an annoyed expression on his face. He glared at the door hard, daring Yata to come through it. When he said he was an impatient youkai, he meant really impatient. He couldn't even wait for something for more than five minutes without wanting to kill someone. Or in this case: the door.
As he was about to stood up and destroy the door for good, the handle turned and soon after Yata emerged from inside. Fushimi glared at Yata as the boy did something wrong, which he did—he made Fushimi wait. Yata in return just looked at Fushimi as if he was crazy.
"Finally!" Fushimi exclaimed. "Why didn't you just come tomorrow or next year, maybe?" Sarcasm was dripping from his voice. Yata glared.
"Did I ask you to wait?" Yata demanded. Soon after, he added, "Why the hell were you even waiting for me?"
Fushimi stayed quiet. Why in the world, did he wait? He wasn't really sure himself. Oh wait, maybe it was the fact that someone could actually see him and no one else ever did so he was kind of excited? There's no way he would say that.
"I didn't wait for you," he replied in the end. Yata snorted, walking towards him.
"Yeah, right. As if I'd believe you—you were hesitating!" Yata smirked. How Fushimi wished he could wipe it off the boy's face. "Well, whatever, I didn't come for that."
Fushimi raised an eyebrow.
"Who are you actually?" Yata asked. This time, it was Fushimi who smirked.
"Oh, you're curious about me. Did you stay up all night thinking about me?" He couldn't help but teased Yata. He was taken aback when pink tinted Yata's face. But, he recovered fast and the disbelieving look was replaced by a haughty look.
"I was right."
"L-like hell, you were right! Why would I stay up all night thinking about you? I have many more important things to do other than that!"
Fushimi resisted the urge to laugh at Yata's flustered face. "Of course, you did, Misaki~" he all but sang the last word.
Yata's eyes widened. "Don't you dare call me that, you bastard! Where the fuck did you even heard that from?!"
Fushimi was a bit curious about Yata's outburst. Why did he react so strongly just because of that? Maybe, he didn't like people calling him by his first name? But, that couldn't be it. Fushimi groaned inwardly.
He decided to bring up Yata's earlier question. "Do you still want to know who I am—or rather—what I am?"
Whatever it is that Yata was planning to say, he didn't say it. Instead, he stayed quiet, looking right at Fushimi. Well, Fushimi guess that was a 'yes' then.
"Why would you want to know it?"
Yata snorted. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe, it was the fact that Kamamoto thought that I was crazy—" Fushimi just had to chuckle at that. Yata glared and continued, "—because I told him I was arguing with a weird and annoying kimono-wearing bastard,—" Hey, that was rude. "–who had thrown my comic to the other side of the rooftop. And, hey, guess what he said?"
Fushimi raised an eyebrow, prompting Yata to continue. "He said that, he didn't see anyone other than me that time. But, you were clearly there—he was even facing you! So, yeah, I don't know. Why the fuck would I want to know who you are?"
That was amusing. Fushimi smirked.
"I'm a youkai," he stated simply. Yata stared at him incredulously. Well, it wasn't exactly easy to accept that fact.
"…A youkai?" Yata repeated. Fushimi nodded. Yata looked like he wasn't really sure whether he wanted to believe Fushimi or not. He stared at Fushimi for a moment before he decided to sit down, facing Fushimi.
"So," Yata started, "do you have powers or something?" Fushimi couldn't really speak at first because, damn, Yata's genuinely-curious face was very adorable.
He collected himself and looked at Misaki in the eyes. He raised his hand up a little, palm facing upwards, and said, "Watch." Soon after, a small blue flame appeared on the middle of his palm. Yata stared, totally fascinated.
"Whoa." That was the only word that came out from Yata's lips as he continued to watch the small flame dancing on Fushimi's palm. It wasn't everyday he could see stuff like this happen.
The flame disappeared and Fushimi retracted his hand. Yata stared at him, an awestruck expression plastered on his face. That was very amusing, okay.
"How did you do that?" Yata inquired. Fushimi shrugged.
"I don't really know; I just can."
"That was really cool," Yata stated.
Fushimi smirked. "I know."
"Bastard."
And just like that, they became closer. Fushimi would go to the rooftop every day during lunch, because, apparently, Yata did attend his class and study. Fushimi had laughed at that and Yata had hit him. Yata would always be there and they would talk, Fushimi would show his flame to Yata and sometimes, Fushimi would tutor Yata.
(Yata had been in doubt at first, because Fushimi was a youkai; there was no way he could actually teach him. But, after Fushimi said that he didn't spend his time in this school sleeping all day and proceeded to solved one of the (hard) problems inside Yata's Mathematic text book, Yata had believed him.)
Fushimi had also brought up about Yata's first name and at first Yata had stayed quiet for a long time before he told Fushimi that only his parents had ever called him by his first name and they were dead. He didn't want anyone to call him by that name because he was afraid that they would leave him, just like his parents. It was childish, he knew, but he couldn't help it.
Fushimi had asked Yata to let him call Yata by "Misaki" and he had promised that he would never leave Yata, no matter what. Yata had let him.
Months later, after spending a lot of times with Yata, Fushimi had realized the foreign feelings he had developed for Yata. Hell, he didn't even know he could have a feeling. He hadn't wanted to accept it at first because he, a freaking youkai, fell in love with Yata, a mere human—a mortal! He had kept denying the feelings, blocked it from entering his mind.
He had ignored it the best he could. He would ignored the happiness bubbling inside him whenever Yata smiled at him; whenever Yata laughed at something he said or did; whenever Yata thanked him; whenever Yata said his name; whenever…Yata was there with him.
He knew he was weak and stupid; weak, because he couldn't fight the feelings—the stupid feelings—and stupid because, he fell in love with a human, a human who could die anytime.
But, gradually, he had learned to accept it. Because, he had never felt this happy before and he had absolutely loved seeing Yata's happy and smiling face. He guessed it was okay to be weak and stupid for once—to love a mere human—it was worth it, after all.
Fushimi had sworn that Yata had the most beautiful and happiest smile on his face after he confessed to Yata. Yata had hit him playfully on his chest after that and Fushimi had felt worried because there were tears in Yata's eyes. Yata had called him stupid because "he was taking fucking too long" to confess and Yata had been "waiting for goddamn ages". Fushimi was baffled because Yata had known, but he didn't complain.
After all, he got what he wanted.
When Yata had said "I love you, you damn monkey", hugged him (Yata was very warm and Fushimi liked it) and kissed him, hard—he had never been happier.
And it was all he ever wanted.
Every good thing must come to an end. Fushimi knew that. But, he wished it wasn't true. He wished good things will never end. He wished Yata would never graduate. He wished Yata would never leave him.
"You idiot," Yata said softly. His hands were wrapped around Fushimi's waist as he buried his face on Fushimi's chest. "I'm not leaving you forever. I'll visit, believe me, I will."
Fushimi didn't say anything. Yata looked up and brought his hand to Fushimi's cheek. Fushimi just stared at Yata's sad smiling face. He hated it. He hated it when Yata looked at him with those dull brown eyes.
"Believe me," was all Yata said before pulling Fushimi's head lower and then sealing their lips with a kiss—a short and painful kiss. "I will come for you."
Yata let Fushimi pull him into another kiss; this one was longer and full of love. Yata couldn't stop his tears from falling in the middle of the kiss. Fushimi stopped kissing Yata and wiped the tears from Yata's eyes. He planted a kiss next to Yata's eyes and smiled.
"Don't cry—I believe you. I'll wait." Fushimi told him. "I love you, Misaki."
Yata let out a dry chuckle. "I love you too, you stupid monkey," he let out, "my stupid monkey."
"Now, stop crying. It's okay."
Yata believed Fushimi just like how Fushimi believed Yata. That was the only thing that really mattered, for now.
That was why Yata didn't cry again when he saw the sad smile on Fushimi's face when he walked away. He didn't cry when he joined his other friends in the car or when the car moved or when he stopped. But, he did cry when he entered his home. He did cry when he lied down on his bed. He had cried until he fell asleep.
For the past years, Yata had never missed seeing Fushimi every month. And Fushimi would always be there waiting for him. Every time he visited, he would talk about his studies and Fushimi would complain about the students. Yata would laugh at Fushimi and Fushimi would quiet him with a kiss. Yata would gladly let him.
One day, on his visit, Yata told Fushimi that he was going to be a teacher and he wished to teach in Ashinaka High School so he could be with Fushimi. Fushimi couldn't agree more.
Yata did become a teacher and he did teach in Ashinaka High School. Fushimi was happy that he could spend his time with Yata even though he had to share his Yata with Yata's students sometimes. But, it's okay, because he knew Yata only belongs to him and only him.
Seventeen years later, Yata died in an accident at the age of 43 and Fushimi wished to die too. But, of course he couldn't die. He could never die. Why did Yata have to die? Why couldn't Yata be like him? Why couldn't they stay together forever?
Fushimi stared emotionlessly as he stared at the grave in front of him, Yata's grave, his Yata's grave. Fushimi let out a dry chuckle. At least they buried him on the island, right? At least he could visit Yata every day. At least Yata would never leave the island again.
"Stupid humans and their short lives," Fushimi muttered under his breath.
And so, Fushimi would come and visit Yata's grave every single days for years. There wasn't a day where he wouldn't visit Yata. He would leave some flowers he picked from the forest. He would complain to Yata about the new students of the school. He would wish that Yata would talk to him again. He would wish Yata to be alive again. If only…
It had been more than two hundred years and Fushimi was still here. Fushimi still went to visit Yata every day. Fushimi still complain and tell stories to Yata. But he stopped wishing for Yata to come back. He knew Yata would never come back; his Yata would never come back.
And that was why he was greatly surprised when he found Yata standing in front of his own grave, looking as curious as ever. He watched as Yata squatted down and placed a rose in front of the grave. Fushimi watched as Yata smiled as he traced the name on the tombstone, his name.
Fushimi didn't even realize when he started to walk towards Yata or when he called Yata's name or when he knelt behind Yata and wrapped his arms around the boy. He could felt Yata stiffened under his touch and he frowned. And the next thing he knew, Yata's fist found his face and he stumbled backwards, lading on his bottom.
"Who are you, you freak?!" Yata exclaimed. Fushimi frowned. Yata looked very young, like the very first time Fushimi met him. Was he reborn into the world?
"Misaki," Fushimi said, a serene smile was on his face.
Yata stiffened and glared at him, "Don't you dare call me that, you bastard! Where the fuck did you even heard that from?!"
"I was right."
"L-like hell, you were right! Why would I stay up all night thinking about you? I have many more important things to do other than that!"
Fushimi resisted the urge to laugh at Yata's flustered face. "Of course, you did, Misaki~" he all but sang the last word.
Yata's eyes widened. "Don't you dare call me that, you bastard! Where the fuck did you even heard that from?!"
Fushimi chuckled sadly. This was all too good to be true. It was almost the same as that time. If he started to fall again, would it still end like it already did? Probably. Well, he could care less as he was already falling. And he couldn't stop.
He was falling for Yata again, for the second time.
Fushimismiled sadly as he stood in front of the grave, his Yata's grave. He didn't come to complain, because there was nothing he could complain about. The school was long gone and the place was back to being an abandoned island. Fushimi was okay with that.
He brought up his hand up, palm facing upwards, and soon after, a blue small blue flame lighted up on his palm. 'See, Misaki?' He clenched his hand shut. He was right, it did end the same way. Yata did die again. He chuckled. Of course, he would. He was just a mere human, a mortal.
When he felt a hand wrapped around his waist, he widened his eyes.
"Who—!" he started.
"Stupid monkey—" it couldn't be. "My stupid monkey."
Fushimi was afraid. He was afraid. If he turned around, would Yata still be there or would he disappear? Fushimi wouldn't want to turn around if Yata would disappear. He would rather not see Yata but able to feel Yata's arms around him, Yata's war—
Fushimi stopped. Yata's warmth—no more.
"Took you long enough, Saruhiko," Yata whispered in his ear.
He swore he stopped breathing when Yata raised his fist in front of Fushimi and whispered in his ear: "I learned to do your fire trick, Saru." And with that, he unclenched his fingers and Fushimi's eyes widened as he watched the small red fire dancing on Yata's palm.
"How," Fushimi breathed out.
"I don't really know; it just happened." He retracted his arms and moved to stood in front of Fushimi. Fushimi just stared as Yata smiled at him. "We're both youkais now then. And we could be together forever, right, Saru?"
Fushimi smiled back and winked at Yata. "That was really cool," He stated.
Yata smirked. "I know."
"Idiot."
The flame disappeared and Fushimi retracted his hand. Yata stared at him, an awestruck expression plastered on his face. That was very amusing, okay.
"How did you do that?" Yata inquired. Fushimi shrugged.
"I don't really know; I just can."
"That was really cool," Yata stated.
Fushimi smirked. "I know."
"Bastard."
The End
A/N: I'm sorry if it sucks.