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11th-Nov-2013 11:20 pm
Kyo.5
I don't really know what's gotten to me, but in the midst of writing a fic, I've suddenly got the urge to look at my old drabbles and I've decided to post some of them here, because, I don't even know ? I'm sick and blame it on my fever and lack of sleep. Also, I just use Kyo and Ruki while writing my real life situations instead of the actual me.
Will probably update from time to time.



Passenger (written while listening to Deftones Passenger) | February 23, 2012
The cars passing by were all that could be heard and yet they seemed just an illusion; sounds that didn’t dare to stop for even a single second. People who only cared about themselves, locked inside their fake dreams. It was when Takanori gave up and sat down, feeling tired, hopeless and alone, wanting to just stare at the starless sky – maybe if he looked closer, there was a hidden, lonely star mirroring him; he could hear someone’s car stop right before his feet. His eyes – which he didn’t know when they’ve closed – opened and his head – which he didn’t know when it fell down – snapped up heavily from his knees.

Trying in vain to avoid the piercing light from the car that felt like it stared into his soul, Takanori looked up to see who had the urge to stop, although seeing only darkness winning over inside the car. Tiny hand willingly grabbed the almost empty, dirty and torn backpack and thin legs stood to walk to the passenger side, opening the door.
A smell of leather hit his nose and a smile crept to his face as he sat next to the unknown driver, who continued in his way in an overwhelming silence, in which Takanori didn’t care where he was headed as he himself didn’t know nor actually cared. The cool night air was curious, being the only witness.

Falsum Lineas (based on a dream I've had, except it was from my pov and there was no Ruki) | January 1, 2013
Ruki found himself standing in front of a regular door. Senses were telling him to step inside and he lifted his hand slowly up to let it touch the glossy, wooden surface. There was a slight squeak and they opened, much to his surprise, and his feet shuffled inside, eyes shifting cautiously, if not curiously, around. Walls were covered with newspaper and Ruki would've thought someone wanted to make it look like a wallpaper if it wasn't for the fact that actually everything in the room was covered in the word-printed sheets.

Eyes landed on a person standing next to a newspaper-covered coffin and his vision was greeted with a man too much familiar to him. Pair of eyes, dark as the night sky, stared back at him lifelessly and he wondered if his own expression mirrored the man's.

Kyo's face was blank as if he was just a mannequin, yet it was indeed his face. The only difference were the tattoos on his body being only simple black lines with an odd red rectangle drawn on his chest, looking like someone who started their work didn't aim to finish it.

Kyo's skin looked unusually uncovered and his body turned to face the coffin. His bony hand reached for the lid and lifted it up, exposing a person the same Ruki could see standing right in front of him. Kyo was there twice, and even though one of them was standing with his eyes opened, the slight rise and fall of his chest and arms visible as he breathed, not a single one of them actually looked alive.

Ruki's very existence was swapped away and showed in front of a mirror. Although, he doubted it was him at first; blonde hair sticking out from under a dark blue hat, dressed in a coat in matching colour, face pale white and small eyes lined in big black circles which reached up to his eyebrows, making a skull-eye effect. He noticed the two lip rings and the big amount of accessories and was reminded by the image of Kyo in their still very early days.

The reflection broke the eerie silence as it spoke with, weirdly, his voice and Ruki froze.
"He's dead," the voice said and Ruki felt like screaming at the quickly fading fragments of lies.

Velvet | February 8, 2013

Scarlet | February 14, 2013
No one needs me, Kyo thought as his fingers held and dragged the tainted blade against his scarred skin. The scars were old, healed and they needed to be opened again. Kyo didn’t like his skin closed, he decided eventually. Not at this very uneasy moment, at least. Blood reminded him he still lived, blood was what reminded him of the reality he wanted to forget and didn’t want to forget.

Everything was quiet as Kyo’s breath blended in with the silence; one could swear the tearing of skin could be heard. Red droplets of Kyo’s life trailed down his abdomen and he watched as they poured from the gaps in his skin, joining each other mindlessly in the desperate flow. The blade was his instrument, the tool which made art on his skin, and gentle fingertips smeared the paint all over the soft canvas that was his body. Nothing yet everything seemed beautiful.

Fingers found their way into his mouth, digging against the flesh of his inner cheek which was abused so many times, nails scraping in harsh moves repeatedly, as if reciting a mantra, to leave blooming paths of scarlet blood. He sucked in his cheeks and closed his eyes when he felt the hot, salty, ferric-like tasting liquid mingle with his saliva.

Kyo’s mobile suddenly beeped, signalling a new text message, the sound seeming so distant although it came from somewhere near him. But Kyo was lost in his own world of pain, too much to bring himself to care; the way the red liquid slowly crept out of his mouth was all he felt. The thick string of life crawled out, caressing his lips, continuing to the end of his chin where it dripped heavily down on the floor.

There was a cycle of scratching, sucking and spitting; his hands painting the blood over his face as insanity took over him and he lost control. Not even another text message, and then another one, and then three missed calls had the power to wake him up from his trance; only the reality slowly finding its way back did. Drip. It was as if the first drop of his forgotten, tossed away sanity poured itself back.

Kyo felt tired and sticky and he felt the blood drying on his body yet all he did was lie down on his messy bed, tangle himself in the dirty sheets and close his heavy eyelids, letting his soul being lost in the dreamland he so much missed.

“I’m sorry for not replying earlier, but I was taking a nap... You know I don’t have enough free time lately.”
“I hope you’re not ignoring me purposely now.”
“Kyo?”
“I miss you.”
“I’m coming over.”

The Way the Water Tastes | February 14, 2013

Silenced (wrote this during my stay at the hospital) | February 18 (not sure about the day though), 2013
Everything was way too bright when Kyo woke up, making him feel like he was lying buried in pillows of clouds. The ceiling was pure white, enlighten by the sun that shone through the opened window blinds. The smell of sterile hit his nose as soon as he came from his dreamless sleep, his heavy eyelids fluttering open, immediately fascinated by the liquid dripping down into the tube which kept him hydrated. He was silenced, he recalled as he couldn't find his voice.

His right hand, which wasn't connected with the tube, found its way into his dark messy hair and he cringed at the greasy feeling. Kyo sighed inaudibly, trying to change his position on the bed, feeling pain shooting up his backside.

The walls were normal; plain and dull, but somehow, they managed to make him feel uncomfortable. As if they were transparent and anyone could see him lying there, broken.


A graceful tattooed hand reached for his mobile phone to find a text from the younger singer who suddenly seemed to care.

Ruki: how are you?

Slender fingers danced across the display keyboard to type a quick answer, not bothering with it much.

Kyo: i feel like shit. does this answer your question enough?



Nihil | March 28, 2013
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