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31_days2011-06-22 11:21 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-06-22 11:21 am
[June 22] [Crossover: Durarara!! x Fullmetal Alchemist] Accept What You're Given
Title: Accept What You're Given
Day/Theme: June 22, 2011 "Take me on a genocide tour."
Series: Crossover: Durarara!! x Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Shizuo & Kimblee
Rating: PG-13, angst, death, post-apocalyptic Tokyo scenario...
Author's comment: Concluding the story from the 12th and the 18th...uh, possibly the most depressing segment of it.
"Azusa," Shizuo dubbed her the following morning, finally brave enough to feed her.
"Explain it to me," Kimblee said, rolling back the top of a tin of kippers.
"Catalpa. The wood was used to make bows for priestesses to drive away evil." It sounded nice though. That was the main reason. Heiwajima Azusa. Her mood and complexion gradually improved.
For three months they staggered about Tokyo and its environs together, as a trio. The only evidence they saw of other living human beings suggested that they had packed up some mementos and left the city. In Shinjuku, Shizuo was happy to see no sign indicating an untimely end for Izaya- his game board was set up, the pieces arranged mysteriously, no dust upon them. How did a man so connected by his cellphone and the internet fare in a post-electronic age?
"Dad is making your dinner," Kimblee told Azusa as Shizuo minced slices of daikon tinier and tinier. He always called Shizuo "Dad" to Azusa. He tickled her stomach, brushed her hair, and sang to her in a very soft, private voice, as if purposely making sure Shizuo could not hear.
All of it encouraged Shizuo to treat her the same, but he couldn't call Kimblee anything but "Kimblee."
Then one night Shizuo awoke to Azusa vomiting and feverish. From the first aid kit he had assembled, Kimblee attempted to dose her with medicine to reduce the fever, but she couldn't keep it down. Shizuo felt himself go ice cold, the only heat in him leeched out as drops of salty sweat. Kimblee's cleverness had limits. His strength was empty. Listless and pained, Azusa persisted. Kimblee bathed her burning forehead with his handkerchief. Shizuo did not sleep for three days.
When she died, Shizuo turned angrily to Kimblee. Suddenly he was sure his personal tormentor had rescued Azusa (or, all at once he was struck by a more chilling image, stolen her) already knowing she would die. He had only wanted to play 'house' with Shizuo for the purpose of further breaking him.
Kimblee buried her deep without crying.
"You're not even human, you cold bastard," Shizuo spat.
"I don't mean to hurt you," Kimblee reached for his dangling hand.
Shizuo flinched away and wouldn't let him take it. "You don't really care about Azusa. She was nothing more than a doll to you."
"I wanted to see her continue to express her strong will to live," Kimblee answered. The barbs seemed unable to sting him. "I'm as disappointed as you are."
Shizuo sat down and slumped over. He saw that there was nothing to be gained from arguing about it. Kimblee just didn't feel- at least not in the way an ordinary person would. ...And maybe it wasn't, as Shizuo had been initially inclined to believe, his loss. In the past world, sure, but in the current world...
"I'm very sorry," Kimblee placed his hand on Shizuo's shoulder. This time Shizuo allowed it. Kimblee pressed a handkerchief into his hand- it wasn't the same one Shizuo had seen last time. Where did he keep getting them? It wasn't until he raised the fabric to his face that he realized he was crying.
He awoke the next morning in Kimblee's arms, unable to really regret what he had done. If they were all but the last people on earth...if everyone he loved was gone forever... He refused to despair. He would take what comfort he could from the only person that fate had seen fit to align him with.
"Good morning, Shizuo," Kimblee pressed his lips up against Shizuo's forehead with a kiss that straddled the line between passionate and brotherly.
Even when Shizuo actually sought out his kindness, Kimblee continued to be consummate tease. Hadn't he been acting like he wanted to get into Shizuo's pants practically since they met? Shizuo watched him silently as he fried a couple of duck eggs. Even now that all refrigeration devices should have failed, he always managed to find eggs when he wanted them. "My own guardian demon," Shizuo thought. He still harbored suspicions that Kimblee wasn't human.
A warm summer wind blew through humid Tokyo and a gentle rain began to fall. Shizuo tried not to consider what effect the weather would have on the many unburied bodies that remained. Two months, then three, then four without seeing anybody.
"I wonder what it's like in Kyoto," Kimblee mused for what seemed like no particular reason.
"Are you suggesting we head toward Kyoto, Kimblee?" With no other direction, Shizuo was willing to take it.
"Whatever you like," Kimblee maintained his ambivalence.
Shizuo reached out and took his hand, pulling him along to the west. They were probably headed toward no one and nothing, but what else could be done? Kimblee maintained his neutrality and squeezed his hand.
Day/Theme: June 22, 2011 "Take me on a genocide tour."
Series: Crossover: Durarara!! x Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Shizuo & Kimblee
Rating: PG-13, angst, death, post-apocalyptic Tokyo scenario...
Author's comment: Concluding the story from the 12th and the 18th...uh, possibly the most depressing segment of it.
"Azusa," Shizuo dubbed her the following morning, finally brave enough to feed her.
"Explain it to me," Kimblee said, rolling back the top of a tin of kippers.
"Catalpa. The wood was used to make bows for priestesses to drive away evil." It sounded nice though. That was the main reason. Heiwajima Azusa. Her mood and complexion gradually improved.
For three months they staggered about Tokyo and its environs together, as a trio. The only evidence they saw of other living human beings suggested that they had packed up some mementos and left the city. In Shinjuku, Shizuo was happy to see no sign indicating an untimely end for Izaya- his game board was set up, the pieces arranged mysteriously, no dust upon them. How did a man so connected by his cellphone and the internet fare in a post-electronic age?
"Dad is making your dinner," Kimblee told Azusa as Shizuo minced slices of daikon tinier and tinier. He always called Shizuo "Dad" to Azusa. He tickled her stomach, brushed her hair, and sang to her in a very soft, private voice, as if purposely making sure Shizuo could not hear.
All of it encouraged Shizuo to treat her the same, but he couldn't call Kimblee anything but "Kimblee."
Then one night Shizuo awoke to Azusa vomiting and feverish. From the first aid kit he had assembled, Kimblee attempted to dose her with medicine to reduce the fever, but she couldn't keep it down. Shizuo felt himself go ice cold, the only heat in him leeched out as drops of salty sweat. Kimblee's cleverness had limits. His strength was empty. Listless and pained, Azusa persisted. Kimblee bathed her burning forehead with his handkerchief. Shizuo did not sleep for three days.
When she died, Shizuo turned angrily to Kimblee. Suddenly he was sure his personal tormentor had rescued Azusa (or, all at once he was struck by a more chilling image, stolen her) already knowing she would die. He had only wanted to play 'house' with Shizuo for the purpose of further breaking him.
Kimblee buried her deep without crying.
"You're not even human, you cold bastard," Shizuo spat.
"I don't mean to hurt you," Kimblee reached for his dangling hand.
Shizuo flinched away and wouldn't let him take it. "You don't really care about Azusa. She was nothing more than a doll to you."
"I wanted to see her continue to express her strong will to live," Kimblee answered. The barbs seemed unable to sting him. "I'm as disappointed as you are."
Shizuo sat down and slumped over. He saw that there was nothing to be gained from arguing about it. Kimblee just didn't feel- at least not in the way an ordinary person would. ...And maybe it wasn't, as Shizuo had been initially inclined to believe, his loss. In the past world, sure, but in the current world...
"I'm very sorry," Kimblee placed his hand on Shizuo's shoulder. This time Shizuo allowed it. Kimblee pressed a handkerchief into his hand- it wasn't the same one Shizuo had seen last time. Where did he keep getting them? It wasn't until he raised the fabric to his face that he realized he was crying.
He awoke the next morning in Kimblee's arms, unable to really regret what he had done. If they were all but the last people on earth...if everyone he loved was gone forever... He refused to despair. He would take what comfort he could from the only person that fate had seen fit to align him with.
"Good morning, Shizuo," Kimblee pressed his lips up against Shizuo's forehead with a kiss that straddled the line between passionate and brotherly.
Even when Shizuo actually sought out his kindness, Kimblee continued to be consummate tease. Hadn't he been acting like he wanted to get into Shizuo's pants practically since they met? Shizuo watched him silently as he fried a couple of duck eggs. Even now that all refrigeration devices should have failed, he always managed to find eggs when he wanted them. "My own guardian demon," Shizuo thought. He still harbored suspicions that Kimblee wasn't human.
A warm summer wind blew through humid Tokyo and a gentle rain began to fall. Shizuo tried not to consider what effect the weather would have on the many unburied bodies that remained. Two months, then three, then four without seeing anybody.
"I wonder what it's like in Kyoto," Kimblee mused for what seemed like no particular reason.
"Are you suggesting we head toward Kyoto, Kimblee?" With no other direction, Shizuo was willing to take it.
"Whatever you like," Kimblee maintained his ambivalence.
Shizuo reached out and took his hand, pulling him along to the west. They were probably headed toward no one and nothing, but what else could be done? Kimblee maintained his neutrality and squeezed his hand.