(no subject)

[bonnefois]

this one is part of the “twelve days of christmas” I’m doing, (was doing, anyways, I ran out of time) which may or may not be finished belatedly considering my recent bout of lacking motivation (d’ya know a place where I can buy it cheap?)

I am so horrible at writing for this fandom. Seriously, I should stick close to the whole “I’m never writing for this fandom” thing. The title comes from “I am a rock” by Simon & Garkfunkel (a very Satoshi-esque song, rather)

gazing from my window, to the street below (dn angel, satoshi, daisuke. vaguely shippy, but mostly gen)



Hiwatari started this season like any other, he went blindly past displays and tinsel which are much too bright. There are families and gatherings, people laughing, it all seems part of some world which he is always looking in at from outside, feeling for the embers of the warmth everyone else seems to find easily.

His apartment is sparse. There is only enough furniture to get by, a few packets of instant ramen in the cupboards, the rest is filled only by dust and memories. When there is a knock at his door, he abandons the papers he was working on, letting them fall about him, life snowy fronds.

His mind was not on them, anyways.

Hiwatari gives no greeting when he opens the door, he simply opens it and waits for a response.

Niwa is there, looking like a bird caught in a trap that longs to fly away. There is something clasped against his chest, greenish, circular, he holds it too tight, and it crinkles at the sides. (Hiwatari can’t help but think he looks lost and out of place in his doorway)

He stammers a few words in response Hiwatari’s continued silence. Niwa’s hair is brighter than any tinsel, the lights reflect off of it, not for the first time, it crosses his mind that it must feel soft to the touch, a theory he has yet to prove.

“Hiwatari-kun” Niwa says. He swallows back the nervousness, and finally withdraws what he’d been holding to his chest the entire time.

“Here!” he says and thrusts something into Hiwatari. The writing is too small for him to make out at first. Hiwatari lifts it up to the light and inspects it.

The saran wrap is multicolored, a dark pine green. The cookies are malformed, lumpy, the frosting falls off in flakes, like store display snowglobes.

“Thank you.” Hiwatari says.

“Mother wanted me to make cookies as well.” Niwa says, nervously filling the spaces of Hiwatari’s silence. “I’m not any good at it, though...”

“I’m sure they’ll taste fine.” Hiwatari says.

Niwa gives a squeak at the back of his throat and nods, which is what Hiwatari takes as by way of a response.

“Oh, it’s so gloomy in here, you should decorate, or something!” Niwa says, looking around at the lonely settings.

“It’s a bit late, isn’t it?” Hiwatari replies quietly.

“Then we’ll do it next year, I’m sure mother won’t notice a few things missing” Niwa says, all the words bursting from him as if he couldn’t wait to say them.

“I could afford my own decorations, I suppose.” Hiwatari says. (A slow smile forms across his face, Niwa is pleased, but only because he doesn’t realize the true reason why Hiwatari is smiling – or what he is currently thinking.)

“So we’ll go shopping next year, early, before the rush” Niwa says, and for the first time he seems comfortable. He smiles, and Hiwatari finds himself almost returning the gesture.

Hiwatari mentally checks it off, the date, rescheduling anything within the week that could possibly intercede.

Hiwatari almost invites him in, but realizes he has nothing to serve, or offer by the way of hospitality.

“Oh, Riku will be so mad – I told her I’d be right over” Niwa says, a rush of words, and he runs out, leaping over the stairs and hitting the walls as he bursts out of the stairway and into the cold air outside.

He disappears as fast as vapors of breath on the air, a snowflake clutched in his fingers.

Hiwatari sets the wrapped plate on the table, the taste of cookie crumbs and icing still lingering in his mouth. It’s too dry and a bit too sweet, it tastes like Niwa must taste, he thinks.

He watches Niwa pass out of view, getting lost in the sparkle of gold tinsel and glaring lights,

back to the warmth of Riku and his family, gathered close, far from the lingering cold he can never seem to outrun.

-fin-


I still need to finish my blind_go entry (hey, I know), various christmas fics and there's homework I should be doing but am not.

otherwise, Merry Christmas (eve) everyone ♥

Comments

[ex-asunder.livejournal.com]

The beginning was so sweet that I almost believed that it was going to end happily. Satoshi smiling and Daisuke's cookies, awwwww. :D :D :D

But then... well, I suppose poor Satoshi always gets the short end of the stick. Beautifully written, but it's not like I expect any less from you. :)

(And I love love love that S&G song. :D :D :D Do you listen to any of their other stuff?)

[measuringlife.livejournal.com]

*hugs* Thank you ~ :D Daisuke is such a sweety, isn't he?

♥ d'aww, you flatter me~

(Hee! it's the only one I have, though I've been meaning to get/download more)

[sexy-dark-mousy.livejournal.com]

"Hiwatari mentally checks it off, the date, rescheduling anything within the week that could possibly intercede."

OMG!!!! *squee* This line was so perfect.

So cute~ but...poor Satoshi...T^T