Neechi

01: Evening Falls

(Warnings: Shonen-ai, yaoi, m/m, slash, etc.)

D E D I C A T I O N: : Dedicated to Eyuu and Touka… even though (as of now) I haven’t been able to read any of Final Dusk. watches Tk Humph.

This is one of those nights that you find in movies. Outside, it’s cold and misty, gloomy and threatening. When one is walking alone, every headlight slicing through the fog is a distant star, a distant life, and you feel alone. People could mug you in an alley and no one would notice or car about… nor your fate.

It’s a good thing I’m inside, then, watching Peter Pan with my younger cousins. As you might be able to tell from them watching this painfully old, terrible version of the myth, they’re around seven… Hell if I know, I’m supposed to watch over them, not keep track of their ages. Anyway, I’m watching the end with them, now, and listening to their breathing as the three of us lounge on the faded navy blue couch. The two of them are girls… and twins… and a huge pain. Seven years old, dirty blonde hair and freckles darting across their cheeks, crystallic soft blue eyes, gray edges around their irises, sunburned skin from refusing to wear sunscreen when they were at the lake two days ago. No, I wasn’t in charge then. That was their own doing.

Finally, the movie ends, and I hit rewind, and jump up, dusting the popcorn crumbs off my blood red pinafore. The girls, sleepy and startled, stared up at me, both struggling to keep their eyes open. In the background of this odd, unfamiliar silence (they were actually quiet for once), the rewinding of the video buzzed.

"Bedtime," I forced a smile, and they pouted.

"No!"

"Ever!!" The whining was getting to me already, and they had just started speaking. Damn them.

"Upstairs!" I ordered, and smirked at their downcast expressions. They’d get revenge later… probably switch the sugar for the salt again. It’s good I’m good with poker faces.

And so we made the long trek up a flight of stairs and into the bathroom. They had conveniently gotten dressed before the movie (or they wouldn’t have had popcorn… or root beer floats), and so the only requirement was to now brush their teeth. Pulling out my own spare (which had been safely tucked away in my front pocket), I brushed with them. Ah, the routine of babysitting your cousins. They scrubbed, spit, rinsed, and ran off to their beds, me following close behind them. Gods, their toothpaste was Hello Kitty. Who, in their right mind, would use Hello Kitty toothpaste? It’s probably got hairballs or mice stuck inside the little remains… it probably was all remains… from something disgusting.

I walked into their frilly pink bedroom (they have a pink thing going on), and tucked the blankets around their small bodies. Children fit in closets. They’re tiny. Of course… without the layers and layers of clothing that I wear, I would too, but that’s beside the point. The point is that children are small… and I hate them. They’re freaky little things… at least these two are. Cheerful and exhausted, the two wished me Good night, Ever, and promptly fell asleep.

I smiled and shut the door, leaned against it and played with the hems of my cream-colored skirts… staring at my Mary Jane’s, blood red, much like my pinafore, and the thin cream, thigh-high stockings that rose, staying in place by two garters. I heard something come from the kitchen, and I tensed. My aunt and uncle didn’t know that I was gay, or that I was a cross-dresser. In fact, they would so hate me and anyone who knew me if they did. They’d probably try to tell my Mom to disown me. Clang, clang, clang. I heard, and cautiously crept to the balcony, peering down through the white wooden bars to the scenery below. No one. Nothing. The only sign was my soft breathing, the lights, and the sound of the video still rewinding.

It stopped. Startled and a little nervous, I told myself there was nothing to be afraid of, I was an idiot for even thinking that there was something to be afraid of. I was perfectly safe, the girls were perfectly safe, and the neighbors were perfectly safe. The sound of someone sitting on the soft couch was made, and I cautiously, ever so cautiously, tilted my head to peer past the wall in my way. Nothing. There was no one there. Growling to myself, I stood up and dusted my skirts (more out of habit than of need) and walked down the stairs. My fingers trailed along the finished woodwork, although painted white, and the cool, slightly rugged feel of it calmed me.

I stepped into the living room, no longer nervous or thinking of false fears, and went to the VCR. I pressed eject, and nothing happened. Lifting the flap, I peered into the darkness. Nothing was in there… no extra movie. In fact, nothing was in there. It was a big, empty box, completely useless. A display.

"What the hell?" I heard my voice, but my eyes and mind were glued to this impossibility before me.

There was nothing in the VCR.

Experimentally, I pushed several fingers inside, feeling the cold air and the nothing. To the top, flat, cool plastic. To the bottom, to the sides… The buttons didn’t lead anywhere, but they didn’t look as if they were added on or painted on… There was nothing in the VCR. I could almost laugh. Well, if there were something in the VCR, it would come out just when I trust it again, jump at me and rip out my throat, leaving several mysteries with my carcass. What killed me, and why the hell I was wearing a dress? Unnerved by the growing silence, I pulled my fingers out and made a teasing face.

"Nyah! See? I don’t trust you; therefore, you can’t randomly pop out some monsters to kill me." My own unwavering voice didn’t betray the part of me that knew the truth of what I was feeling. It’s good I didn’t feel like paying any attention to him.

Ignoring the empty VCR, I turned my attention to the messy couch, intending to pick up the crumbs I could and then drag out the vacuum. Only the couch was clean. The popcorn bowl wasn’t there. In fact, there was only that clean couch. Nothing else, abso-bloody-lutely nothing else.

I could feel the cold fear softly tracing its way up my spine, and I stood taller, fearing. Something weird was going on here. Did I open the door into the Twilight Zone? Looking around, I watched the emptiness, the silence, and my eyes fell to the misty outside world. Things happened in there, in that ghastly darkness, in that dim vapor. For a moment, I stared at my own reflection within the window. Pale, not ivory, but pale skin, flaxen, thin hair that fell in choppy lengths, framing my face and enhancing my dark, olive green eyes. Gazing past my reflection, I witnessed the vague outlines of foliage, grayed by the fog… darkened by the night. I knew that if I looked, I couldn’t see the stars in the sky.

For some unknown reason, that frightened me.

A blur sauntered behind me, passing, and I thought I saw a purple… something… as part of the shadow behind my own blurry image. Blinking and whirling around, I stared at the emptiness, at the white and lack of décor. The ivy plant spooling down an oddly placed column, softly moving back and forth… something had stirred it. Again, the cold fear that I had been repressing resurfaced, and I clenched my pinafore in my moistening palms.

"H-Hello…?" I asked the empty silence, straining so hard to hear anything that my head was beginning to pound. "Is anyone there? Girls…? Is that you? Aunt Kelly? UncleTyrone…? This isn’t funny." Silence. Nothing.

I took a step forward, frightened by the squeaking of my own shoes on the floor.

"This isn’t funny!" I repeated, more insistent, more distressed.

I turned around, and my eyes instantly sought every place someone… or something… could hide. Behind the couch, behind the entertainment center. The shadows, dark enough that you couldn’t see anything. Up the stairs, in the kitchen… there were shadows everywhere. Shadows, shadows, shadows. Everywhere, all around me. Outside, there was no moonlight spilling onto the ground, no headlights and no street lamps that would save you from anything. They would pool around you, and then the shadows would swallow you up.

"This isn’t funny!" My voice hitched.

Deciding it would be ‘safe’ to change my clothes before my aunt and uncle got home, I slowly, cautiously, lifted the bag that contained my ‘normal’ wear. It was big enough to hold this outfit, too. Which isn’t too common for most bags. Once I had accomplished lifting the bag and clutching it in my hands, I ran up the stairs, feeling one of my stockings slip a little. I ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, dropping the bag, and turning around, eyes closed to lock it and rest my forehead against the cool wooden, white door.

I felt a presence.

Someone was breathing down my neck, slowly but surely pressing me against the door. It was definitely not female. I froze, stiffened, and I felt a soft hand run down the length of my arm, fingers entwining themselves through mine. Another arm clothed within a dark, dusty, faded green sleeve. He smelled good… like French Vanilla.

"Who are you?" I whispered, trying to relax in those tempting arms. Usually, people don’t like to touch me.

"Hello," his voice was quiet, soothing, seductive, "Ever." It was revealed that he knew my name. "You look wonderful."

"Th-thank you," the arm wrapped around my waist pulled me back against a soft, firm, lean chest. Sexy. Before I could see his face, though, he released my hand and flipped off the light. I was staring into the dark, into a face I could barely see. Long hair, dark, trailing down from where it was pulled loosely together behind his head, it tickled my face, and I closed one eye to avoid it’s sharp end sticking into my eye.

"You’re beautiful…" he whispered, and his lips touched my nose. In the dark, I think I saw a beautiful neck… He spun me around, and forced his tongue into my open, slightly surprised mouth.

Second star to the right, straight on ‘till morning.

The words burned themselves into my mind, and then everything faded away. From the walls to the smell of the air. It all changed, and the only thing that stayed constant was him, this nameless man who was tasting his mouth. Well, at least he tasted good, too.

And then the cold hit him. It slammed into his body and he was alone, numb, the only feeling he had was that of the cold. He didn’t feel the strong, bruising grip this mysterious stranger had, or the fierce kiss. There was nothing but cold, and it was painful, piercing and gripped his soul, and it seemed as if it would shatter him, inside and pierce through his chest, ending his life in a painful manner.

Ripping through his soul.

:01:

A/N: Me? Obsessed? No. I’m not obsessed with Touka or Eyuu… it’s a little pathetic, really. They’re not even my characters.