A/N:

Hello everyone! I've been reading Uragiri wa Boku no Namae o Shitteiru a lot lately (probably because I actually found copies of the Manga *does a happy dance*). So I figured I should catch up on the fics for my favorite Zweilit pair. This lead to being struck by inspiration for a cute little one shot and I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to write it down and add to the fandom. Enjoy!

Contains very light hints of HotsumaxShusei

Thoughts

Dreams

Disclaimer:

I don't own Uraboku, that honor goes to Hotaru Odagiri, and if I did, the HotsumaxShuusei would be a lot more apparent ;P

First Night

Renjou Hotsuma always knew the day would come when Giou Takashiro would come and take him away from his parents. He sat on the front steps of his home and stared out at the street, willing the black car to come faster and get him out of there. He shivered in the early morning chill and from the stone under him which was still cold from the night. Takashiro wasn't due for another hour at least, but Hotsuma couldn't stay inside. He couldn't take the poorly disguised looks of relief on his parents' faces. He had overheard them call him a monster when they thought he wasn't there. And that had set off the chain reaction that led him to this moment.

Three weeks ago to the day, Hotsuma nearly ceased to exist, only to be pulled back from the edge by the only person in the world who mattered to him anymore. For years, everything had piled on his shoulders, the pain and injury he caused others, the fear and disgust in the eyes of his classmates, and the same emotions echoed in the voice of his mother. He decided if he could command what he wanted with his horrible gift, the Voice of God, he could simply make it all disappear. Three words, so simple, and it would all be gone. "Die Renjou Hotsuma."

And then those arms had pulled him back.

Although the original plan was to bring the pair to the Twilight Mansion once they reached high school age, Takashiro had made the decision that Shusei and Hotsuma were to come as soon as Shusei was recovered enough to manage the move. The vestiges of Hotsuma's old temper flared for a moment as he thought how Takashiro must only want him there to keep an eye on him in case he tried to do something else stupid. Then the anger was doused in a heavy wave of guilt. Shusei.

Hotsuma pulled his knees up to his chest to try to protect his still hurting heart. How could he ever face his partner again? How could he look at the person he loved more than anything else knowing that he had caused him so much pain?

Hotsuma had visited Shusei in the hospital the day after his failed suicide attempt. The older boy had lay perfectly still atop the sterile white sheets, kept unconscious because of the pain. To Hotsuma, the only color in the room seemed to be Shusei's hair spread across the pillow, and his pale skin, but even that was covered by layers of white bandages across his shoulders. He had only been able to stand stiff in the doorway for a moment, before the thought crossed his mind I caused this and he had dashed to the bathroom to be sick. It was there that Takashiro had found him to inform him he would be coming to the Twilight Mansion once Shusei improved enough.

Good riddance Hotsuma thought, still feeling the presence of his childhood home behind him. He uncurled from his ball of limbs and rummaged through one of his suitcases until he found his Gameboy and flipped on the power. He sank into the game with relish, starting to relax under the mindless effects of defeating warriors and dragons. That was what he loved so much about video games; he could immerse himself into them fully until the world fell away. No more parents, no more bullies, no more Voice of God, just him and a game.

Hotsuma was still playing when Takashiro drove up an hour later. He put his bags in the trunk and climbed into the back seat.

"Would you like to say goodbye?" Asked Takashiro.

"Hell no," Hotsuma replied and crossed his arms, carefully rearranging his face into a mix of annoyance and indifference. He knew his parents would give him falsely loving goodbyes, wishing their oldest son luck and other shit like that. Hotsuma would never show how much this knowledge hurt him.

The drive to Shusei's house was short and silent. The Eyes of God stood on his front steps flanked by his parents. Hotsuma turned away as they kissed Shusei's cheeks and waved before going inside. He felt horribly guilty for being jealous of his friend. He never wanted Shusei to go through the same things as him, but it didn't stop something from twinging deep in his soul.

As soon as the two people who looked so much like Shusei disappeared behind the front door, Hotsuma jumped from the car and raced up the stairs to collect Shusei's luggage. He knew it would hurt his partner's shoulders to carry the heavy bags. He glanced at the other for a moment, guilt still clouding his eyes. In the split second their gazes met, Shusei gave him a look of gratitude for how his friend was taking care of him. Contained in his expression was also a silent reassurance that no matter what, he would still stay by Hotsuma's side.

The drive to Twilight Mansion was nearly as silent. Hotsuma pressed his face to the window, straining for a glimpse of their new home as Shusei tried to relax into the seat. It still hurt a bit to move around a lot, so packing had been a trying experience. But he would never betray his discomfort and make Hotsuma feel even guiltier. How many times since that day had he wished he had the power of God's Light and could take away all the pain that had pushed his partner to the edge?

"Damn, this place is huge!" Hotsuma exclaimed, full of enthusiasm, as their new home came into view. He turned back to see Shusei's reaction. The corners of the other boy's mouth had twitched up, and Hotsuma knew it meant he was grinning on the inside. Because of me Hotsuma realized, feeling a bit of weight lift from his chest. Some things they still needed to talk about, and others only time would heal, but this small gesture made him hopeful that they would one day reach a place where they could bicker and laugh and watch the stars and hold each other again.

When the car pulled up, Hotsuma insisted on carrying all four bags at once, both his two and Shusei's two. The sight of his burdened partner marching inside while luggage threatened to topple left and right brought another small smile to Shusei's face. Hotsuma didn't see this one as he was already through the doors and on his way up the stairs toward their rooms with no need for directions. Shusei followed at a slower pace to find that Hotsuma was not in the living room that joined their bedrooms, but his own door was open and his bags placed just inside. He began to unpack at a painstakingly slow pace, still with a mind for his shoulders. In the room opposite Shusei's, Hotsuma was doing the same, basking in the feeling of calm the place bestowed on him.

The memories were starting to flit back in flashes, just as Takashiro had warned they would, of days and nights the pair had spent together in those rooms. Some were sad, but very few. This was their sanctuary, the place where the true darkness of fighting, Duras and death could not reach. He had never felt such an enveloping sense of home before except for when Shusei would hold him in his arms and reassure him he really existed. He bathed in the images of past lives, laughing when things were funny, grinning when they were happy, and blushing at the intimacy others that he would never recount to a soul.

Before long, Shusei stuck his head through his partner's door to investigate the source of the noise, only to catch a radiant and joyful Hotsuma with his head thrown back in laughter at a particularly hilarious memory. The sunlight from the window shone in his wild blond locks and along his cheeks; it was reflected by the light in his eyes. Shusei silently savored the sight of his partner looking happier than he had in months; he knew once Hostuma caught sight of him, all the pain and guilt would come flooding back to his face in an instant and he would look away from where the bandages still showed over the collar of Shusei's shirt. This is all I need he thought, drinking in his first new memory of Twilight Mansion, this vibrant boy. And as long as he needs me, my life will be worthwhile.

Hotsuma fell into his bed with relief that night from his exhausting day. After spending the morning and much of the afternoon unpacking, the pair had shared dinner with the other residents of the house. In the course of the meal Hotsuma had scared the crap out of the young cook by making it explicitly clear that he would never eat tomatoes in ANYTHING, bickered with the annoyingly chipper Tachibana, and decided to stay well away from the family's pervy, crazy doctor. Through it all he had kept one eye on his partner, who picked at his food and didn't eat much. Hotsuma deduced with a stab of guilt that Shusei's lack of appetite was due to pain when the injured boy reached for the salt shaker and a grimace crossed his face for a fraction of a second, too fast for anyone but Hotsuma to catch. Which brought Hotsuma to the real reason for his exhaustion: the day had been a complete emotional rollercoaster with leaving home, being plagued by guilt, and receiving so many memories in a rush. He gratefully surrendered to the darkness of sleep.

Hotsuma stood in the middle of a battlefield. The ground was churned and bloody and covered in the ash that drifted down from the many fires. He could see shapes moving and fighting through the haze, but was unable to detect who was friend and who was foe. He stood in a momentary bubble of peace, and didn't know why. Even more alarming was he didn't know where Shusei was. He had been separated from his partner sometime in the middle of the fight and couldn't find him. Hotsuma ran out into the smoke, feeling for his partner's presence with all his concentration. There it was, a bright spark dancing with motion. Suddenly that spark flickered, and Hotsuma felt as if he was being rent in two. He picked up his pace; ducking and dodging the twisting bodies of fighters, his mind devoted to one thing and one thing only, get to Shusei.

By the time he reached his partner, the Duras was gone, and Shusei lay in a heap on the ground. Hotsuma's eyes widened and he fought back the tears. Don't panic, he may just be injured, no he is just injured. He'll live. Yuki will heal him and he'll live.

Hotsuma gently took Shusei into his arms, turning him over and placing the brown head of hair in his lap. One look at the gash across Shusei's chest brought the terror flooding back again in an instant.

"YUKI COME HERE" Hotsuma screamed, putting the compelling force of God's Voice into the command while pressing his hands over the wound and trying to stop the warm life from flooding out.

Yuki came at a run, Luka at her back. She took one look at Shusei and told Hotsuma "There's nothing I can do. He will die," before burying her head in Luka's chest and beginning to cry.

NO NO NO! Hotsuma's heart rebelled while his head knew what had to be done. He used God's Voice to call Takashiro. While waiting for the head of the Giou clan to arrive, the tears began to fall, fat and many, onto Shusei's face and make it look like he was crying too. Hotsuma wiped his own tears from his partner's cheeks along with a trickle of blood from his mouth. If he concentrated only on his face, he could just be sleeping. Shusei's breath came short and irregular and the pumping of blood from the wound had begun to slow.

Takashiro arrive just in time to cast the reincarnation spell over the dying Zweilit. Shusei's eyes opened for a moment and he delivered his final wish with his last breath. "I want to be with you again in our next life Hotsuma." And then he was cold and still in Hotsuma's arms.

Shusei woke suddenly as he heard his name cried in the voice he knew better than his own with such terror and agony that his heart constricted. A moment later Hotsuma burst into his room, wild-haired and wild-eyed, sending the door slamming into the wall with enough force to dent. "Hotsuma, what's wrong?" Shusei asked, rubbing the sleep from one eye with the back of his hand.

Hotsuma had not meant to scream, neither had he meant to stay, but his relief was so great at seeing his partner alive, that he collapsed onto the bed and buried his head in Shusei's lap since the white bandages still shone white in the moonlight on the older boy's bare shoulders.

"I'msorry, I'msorry, I'msorry," he choked into the blankets.

"Waking me up in the middle of the night isn't that bad," Shusei reassured, not understanding why his partner was apologizing. None the less, he placed his hand on the blond's back and started moving it in soothing circles.

"I dreamed our last life," Hostuma said, his voice on the edge of tears, "you died in my arms." He lifted his head to look into Shusei's green-golden eyes and the tears spilled over. "It was horrible, the sorrow and the emptiness. And I almost put you through that. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Shusei wrapped his arms around Hotsuma, not caring if he agitated his burns. He felt his partner's tears soaking into the bandages. "At least I could pull you back," he whispered. "At least I can still hold you now."

Shusei lay back down, bringing Hotsuma with him, and covered them both with the blanket. They spent their first night in the Twilight Mansion laying side by side, their hands just barely touching between them.

A/N: So what do you think! I love Hotsuma and Shusei so much that the image of this last line had even me fangirl squealing. Hopefully I was able to stay mostly on character and not wind up too OOC. I did write Hotsuma with a lot of emotion because I love studying his expressions when I read the Manga and they are always so full of feeling.

Drop me a review if you liked it, or even if you have constructive criticism.