Always and Forever
Ryan and Hikaru
Rain. Rain, that was all he could see. Thick, ominous grey clouds letting loose heavy torrents of rain, allowing their tears to thunder down to earth. Rain, splattering against the asphalt, and against a boy-no against a man as he made his lonely trek through the dismal and pathetic conditions of a previously sunny day.
As the young stranger trudged his way through the mud that oozed it's way from the cracks that littered the side-walk; he couldn't help but contemplate the damp chill that had settled uncomfortably around his lithe body. 'Hmm, the rain is so freakin' cold!' Ryan thought viciously. 'I'd better pick up the pace, Hikaru'll be waiting for me.' Which was true, the fiery, blonde Hikaru was in the military, and despite the impressive pay-check, hardly ever went to work. With that last thought Ryan proceeded into a slight trot.
Upon finally reaching apartment, the brunette unlocked, and softly stepped inside the cozy two-roomer. The design of their apartment was actually quite simple, the walls were a soft butter yellow, the carpet was traded for a hard wooden-look-alikes, and a pair of tope love-seats were positioned precisely in the centre of the living room. Towards the kitchen which was painted a tasteful, light mint-green there was a small picture. The photo wasn't particularly dazzling, simply a photo of an elderly couple. But, it wasn't the fragment of a memory that caught Ryan's attention, it was the person peering at it. This person was clad in nothing more than a pair of bermudas, a loose fitting basketball jersey, and a thick scarf wrapped loosely around a small crown. Hikaru's skin was freckled, and in places mildly scarred. The stray tresses that escaped the techno-colored scarf were a bright tell-tale blonde. The tall military official, back turned, was blinking profusely at the sepia-toned memento, and then, as though greatly upset by what was seen; forcibly grabbed the frame off the wall, and smashed it against the smug-looking tiles of the kitchen floor. Not caring of the cuts received, and not heeding the broken shards of glass that littered the floor.
At this unusual antic, Ryan sighed and shook his sopping head. He'd address this later, for now, he had to get changed. The man-boy stepped into the bathroom, and not bothering to close the door, began to undress himself. First came the soggy socks, then his pants, sweater, undershirt, and finally the rest of his undergarments. Stretching languidly, he slipped on a pair of worn, and baggy pajama pants, and stepped into the kitchen.
The sight Ryan was greeted with was one that purely, and truly in essence of Hikaru. The blonde was leaning casually against the kitchen counter in trade mark terrible posture. Bermudas were now in a crumpled heap by the remains of the photo. The multi-colored scarf was transported from around the head as a turban, to around the waist, as a make-shift belt. Upon Ryan's arrival, Hikaru turned around, sipping at a can of iced tea, and grinned impishly at him. Ryan now took note of the way the too-large football jersey was worn. It had the strange appearance of a toga, the way it was tucked and rolled, with a scarf cinching the waist dramatically.
"Hey, there partner!" Hikaru called, bobbing a shaggy head of bright dandelion colored tresses. Teasingly, the taller of the two wiggled a pair of long fingers, urging Ryan to come forward. Upon doing so, he found himself locked in a tight embrace, and a tender kiss being placed onto his forehead. Soon, the two people molded their mouths together, the kiss was hot, sloppy, and utterly perfect. Despite the miserable conditions raging outside, and the obvious need of an indoor heating system, Ryan had a feeling that he wouldn't need a heater…he felt so warm with Hikaru.
Then everything around the pair slowly blurred. It all faded into the morning light seeping into the window and wriggling itself under the cracks of the apartment door marked '666'. Groggily, the young brunette sat up in a creaky, and overly-starched bed. Reminicents of the muddled conversation from last night loosely enveloped his still-foggy mind.
"Ha! You like that?"
"Don't stop, okay? Don't ever-ever-stop! "
"You know I'd do anything for you…."
Flushing a deep red, Ryan grinned to himself. He squinted around him, looking for his significant other, but only succeeded in giving himself a headache. Shrugging lightly, he figured that Hikaru was out for a traditional morning jog. Deciding to slump out of bed, Ryan dragged himself from his sheets, finger combed his hair, and finally managed to haul himself into the cheery yellow bathroom. Once finished with his business there, the lithe man concluded that breakfast, preferably cornflakes was definitely in order. As he stooped to the lower cupboards for a bowl, the door bell chimed once, twice, and a few more times. Scowling at the intrusion, Ryan slammed his bowl down, and flung open the apartment door. To his mild irritation, the unwelcome intruder was a rather plump woman named Macy. The intruder's childhood crush on Ryan was something she had never let go of, and thus, she had made it her personal mission in life to pester the couple as much as humanely possible. Needless to say, Macy was almost always unwelcome wherever Ryan and Hikaru were present, and as the latter put it; 'continually thrusted her ridiculously large breasts at the wrong time and place!'.
Macy was a constant flirt, and always vying for Ryan's affections. At first it was somewhat flattering, now it just got irritation. Each and every time, Macy would babble on that she could take Hikaru's place now that the tall blonde was 'gone'. What the hell did she mean, 'gone'? Hikaru had never left! And each and every time, Ryan would shove her out of his apartment, and slam the door at her retreating figure.
Ryan feared that if this time she tried to insist on such a ridiculous notion, he might actually do something drastic. Upon closer inspection of the pestering woman…was she looking older?
Nah. Maybe the botox was wearing off…
Sniggering mentally at this, Ryan huffily inquired as to why she had come to grace his home. Macy peered up at Ryan, and woefully said, "Honey, I know you don't want to hear this, but really… you need company. It's already been 60 years since Hikaru's death-"
Ryan silenced her with a swift slap across the face. "Goddammit, woman! Stop talking like that!" Ryan had no clue why he was so angry, she's done this many times before, but something about this time…the way she had said it…
And suddenly, the breath caught in the boy-man's throat. His hands-his hands! No longer were they smooth, and firm, with just the trace of a tan. Instead they were frail, and brittle. Veins were grotesquely visible, and the faint outline of bone seared it's way beneath the flesh.
Terrified, Ryan whirled around and ran sloppily into the apartment, only to find that the walls were worn, and the paint peeling. Everything had a thick layer of dust upon it, cobwebs lined the broken furniture, and cracks skittered across the once immaculate walls.
Ryan's eyes drifted to an old calendar that hung loosely on the wall, just barely visible from the dust, read the date, '1940'. A date was loosely circled…what was it?
Ryan couldn't tell…his eyes were far too weak.
His eyes finally rested upon an old and worn photo frame resting on the ground. What looked like shards of glass surrounded it, and upon further inspection, the sepia-toned image was of an old couple, there was a tall one, and a relatively petite one, both were smiling happily, tipping bowler hats.
"You know I'd do anything for you…."
"Anything for you…"
It was then that the calendar's message was finally visible:
'Hikaru Zen, age 23, died in action, WW2. July 7th, 1940.'
A smile so beautifully sunny, has been at long last, returned to the sun.
An old, and mottled man peered back at an aged saggy woman. "Ready to go back?"
The man nodded.
Because this truly was the end.
A/N: Well, that's done. Here's a one-shot. Find anything confusing? Then, by all means, review hint and ask away!