Author: Vienna
E-mail: wicca_willow2000@hotmail.com
Pairing: Depends on how you interpret it, but I was thinking Shuya/Aoi with an implied Shuya/Kawada when I wrote it. Doesn't have to be slashy, though.
Rating: PGish, I suppose. I'm not too good with the ratings.
Summary: What exactly did Shuya and Aoi do in those three months they were alone, getting back to the other survivors?
Alone Together
They didn't even start talking to each other until their second week on the road. No wonder. Aoi still couldn't quite look at Shuya without being reminded of all the people that was dead because of him, dead because this one person had decided to go to war. Sometimes that thought would go on, and Aoi just stared at Shuya without saying a word, something remotely like hatred in his eyes. Shuya never turned and looked back at him, though. Whether that comforted him or made him more pissed off, Aoi wasn't sure.
Still, the times that the thought of all his dead friends overpowered him, and the tears would inevitable force their way out of his burning eyes - Shuya would turn up the radio, allowing Aoi to mourn them in silence, without ever mentioning it.
Every night, right after settling down for the night, Aoi would turn to Shuya, no matter if they hadn't said a word to each other all day. "Why?" Nothing more, nothing less. Always the same expression on his face. And Shuya would look at him briefly, face blank. "Go to sleep, Takuma."
Aoi guessed he should be thankful towards Shuya. After all, without him, they wouldn't even be alive. Still, just how they had managed to get off that island alive was something that Aoi couldn't comprehend. By all logic or reason, they should be dead. Dead and their bodies burned. Shuya had saved Aoi's life then. Even gotten shot trying to get them both out alive. Of course, they had both gotten shot, several times even, but they were still alive, somehow.
Alive, and on their way back to the only people they knew and trusted. There were way too few of them now. Way too few and hardly a way of making more. Because of that simple fact, Aoi had no choice but to trust Shuya, even though he didn't particularly like the other boy. Or had he become a man by now?
One night, after one and a half week on the road, they camped near a forest, but far away from people. Shuya quickly gathered wood and made a fire, so expertly that Aoi had to wonder where he'd learned it. Shuya half-smiled when he saw Aoi's quizzical expression, thinking back. "An old friend taught me," he said, lightly touching the bandanna around his neck, tracing it with his fingers. Aoi frowned, but didn't ask further. There was so much about Shuya he didn't know about, so much behind the stoic expression the other almost always wore.
Leaning back against the car, closing his eyes, Aoi asked as he always did. "Why?" He didn't even expect Shuya to answer anymore, or just tell him to go to sleep.
"Because I couldn't let them die in vain." Shuya's voice was forced, strained, as if it hurt to get the words out. Aoi straightened up, eyes wide. "Who? Let who die in vain?" He leaned forwards slightly, eager, wanting to get behind the mask, getting to know Shuya more. "Please, Shuya, tell me." It surprised him that he wanted to know, that he even cared about Shuya's reason. Wasn't it enough to know that whatever his motivation was had killed Aoi's friends, even Shintaro? But no. It wasn't enough anymore. Somwhere between the island and now, Aoi's attitude towards Shuya had changed, but why or to what he didn't know.
Shuya sighed and took a sip from the flask he always managed to keep filled. "I was in the program three years ago," he began quietly. Aoi didn't say anything, just waited, still leaning forwards, looking at Shuya. "I watched my best friend die. I saw girls getting shot down without mercy. I witnessed good friends turn on each other, killing each other. I found a new friendship in a place where it shouldn't be possible for anything like that to happen, but it did. I...." Shuya stopped, his voice trailing off, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, looking down.
"I saw and felt things that a 15-year-old shouldn't, Takuma. It changed me. Of course it did. You're changed now as well, aren't you?" Shuya looked at him, a slight strain on his face. Aoi nodded slowly. "Of course. I watched my best friend die as well. I saw almost all my friends getting killed off without reason. It just.... It doesn't make any sense! It shouldn't be like this, none of this should have happened!"
"I know," was Shuya's only response, as he rolled himself into the blanket, getting ready to sleep. Aoi sighed, wanting to ask a thousand questions, but figured it wouldn't matter anyway. It had happened. He couldn't change that. Tee only thing he could do, was to look forward, remembering and honouring those who were gone, and keep on fighting for them.... Just as he thought that, Aoi froze and looked at Shuya, who was seemingly asleep already.
"Oh..... Now I think I get it," he whispered, more to himself than to Shuya, then settled down for the night as well, even though he couldn't sleep. Instead he though of everything that had happened, once more, and said his final good-byes to his old life in his mind and heart. It was time he started looking forward now.
The trip got lighter from that moment. They started talking, although not about anything very serious at first. They talked about music, about guitars, about basketball and baseball and rugby, and about silly little things that had happened when they were kids. They talked about Nobu, and Shintaro, and found that it didn't hurt as much as they thought it would. They sang along to the radio, Shuya mocking Aoi for his poor singing voice. "Like you're any better," was Aoi's pouting reply, and Shuya would laugh, which always made Aoi smile, partly without wanting to.
Then came the night after a little over a month on the road, every day getting closer to the ones they hoped had escaped, when Aoi woke up in the middle of the night from Shuya's silent sobs. Aoi rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and got up, walking over to where Shuya was sitting, at the edge of the fire they had lit for the night. He was holding a picture in his hands, looking down at it, whispering words Aoi couldn't hear.
"What's wrong?" he asked, making Shuya jump and stare at him, almost as wide-eyed as Aoi was staring at Shuya. "Takuma..... It's nothing," he said, voice exhausted, looking down at the picture again. Aoi sat down next to him, closer than he would have only two weeks ago, and looked at the picture as well. Many faces stared back, most of them completely serious, some with laughter in their eyes. "Your class?" he asked silently, and Shuya nodded.
Aoi scanned the photo, finally finding Shuya himself, a younger version which didn't really resemble the one sitting next to him, fighting back the tears. "Tell me about them," Aoi said after a while, shifting a little so he was even closer to Shuya, wanting to give him some comfort although he didn't know what to do or what to say. The young people on the worn photograph..... They were all dead now, nothing could change that. No words could make them spring alive again.
For the next couple of hours, Shuya pointed out people to him, telling little anecdotes about them all, making them spring at least a little to live, if only in Aoi's mind. Mimura, Sugimura, Nobu, Utsumi, Mitsuko, Motobuchi, Chigusa.... Aoi found himself wishing he could have gotten to know them, which he said to Shuya. "I wish I had gotten to know them longer," he replied, eyes still sad even though his mouth was smiling.
As the sky started to become lighter and the fire slowly died out, Aoi just had to ask, for some odd reason. "So who taught you how to build a fire? And who gave you that bandanna?" Shuya put the photograph back into his backpack and leaned back against a treetrunk. "He isn't on the picture. He wasn't even in our class. I only knew him for those three days, but I doubt I'll ever forget him." The expression on Shuya's face was unlike any Aoi had seen on him before, and he wondered what this other guy had really meant to Shuya.
"His name was Kawada, and he died to save my life. Well, indirectly, anyway." Shuya turned to look at Aoi, who was suprised to see tears freely streaming down Shuya's cheeks. "Shuya...." he whispered, hesistating before putting his arm around Shuya's shoulder, pulling him close. It felt weird, but still okay. A right kind of wrong.
They didn't really say anything else, just sat there as the day awoke, together but still alone. Shuya leaning against Aoi, silently crying without shame. Aoi's arm around Shuya's shoulder, holding him close, reassuring him that it was all going to be okay.
Fin.