Relationships: Ogami Rei/Fujiwara Toki
Characters: Ogami Rei, Fujiwara Toki
Rating: G
Type: Oneshot
Words: 1,122
Warnings: None
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, self-hatred
Originally posted: 2013-01-12
It was the anniversary of his sister's death. It felt like it had been so long ago that he started living with the guilt of causing her death, yet he could remember it like it was yesterday. He had been hiding in his room the entire day, refusing to get out even to eat, but now, everyone else were in bed, and the mansion was quiet, and Toki stood on the raised wooden floor outside.
His nails dug into his arms, sure to leave bruises on his sensitive skin, but he couldn't care less. It was all his fault. Why did she have to die, and he survive? It would all have been better if it had been the other way around. He wasn't worth anything, while she was everything. He had hated himself so much since the day she died. Since the day he had destroyed her life forever.
He felt his lower lip tremble, and he sucked it in between his lips, teeth digging into the soft flesh to keep the trembling from spreading. But it was no use, and he fell to the floor in a shivering heap, legs pulled up to his chest so that he could hide his face. He knew he was alone, but he couldn't help but feel ashamed. He had no right to cry. He had no right to feel the loss he had felt ever since that day all those years ago, because he was the one to blame. Had he not been so weak, she never would have protected him, and she never would have died. It was all his fault.
He leaned sideways against one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof, fingers bruising arms, toes curled in the coldness of the night, breathing growing short and rough. He hadn't cried for so long. He hadn't allowed himself to cry, not when he didn't have the right. What was the use to crying, he scolded himself, it wouldn't bring his sister back, it wouldn't heal the damage he had caused.
Once he started, he couldn't stop. Hot, salty tears rolled down his cheeks, wetting the corners of his mouth as they continued down to drip down his chin. He didn't know why he cried now, despite having managed not to all these years. Maybe it was the stress of seeing his sister with her regained memories for that short moment. Perhaps it was because of the foreign cruelty she had treated him, and others with. Or maybe it was that he had finally found something more he held dear, but there was no way he deserved to have something like that. The guilt was overwhelming. It made it hard to breathe, impossible to stop them from pouring from his eyes, clogging up his nose and creating a thick lump in his throat.
Then, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, and with a start, he attempted to rip free of them. But the grip was strong, and with limbs weakened by the tension of crying, he had no chance of getting loose. He wanted to yell, to tell whoever it was to let go, to leave him alone, but all that came out of his throat was a sob that shook his entire body. After what was probably minutes, but felt more like hours, he finally stopped struggling, and he could feel the warmth of another body pressing against his back.
He could feel the scent coming off the one wrapping arms around him, and he tried to hide his face in his knees, but the arms were in the way. He recognized that scent. Ogami. Why would Ogami of all people be there, and what did he think he was doing? He didn't want anyone to see him like this, least of all him.
Ogami didn't know why, but it pained him to see Toki like this. Not even at the darkest of times had the blonde cried, yet here he was, and he could feel the sobs wrack Toki's body as he held on to the shorter boy. He didn't know what brought it on, but he had his suspicions. Toki's mind was always there, and it was visible on his face when he thought that no one was looking. Ogami was certain it had something to do with his deceased sister, and the hole filled with pain her death that swallowed most of Toki's hear.
He wanted to say something, make it all better, to make everything go away. But he knew he couldn't. He could just stand there on his knees, pressing Toki's shaking back against his chest, and wait for the tears to stop. He wanted to tell him that the prime minister's words were a lie. To tell him that he wasn't worthless. But at the sight of Toki as he cried, he lost anything he could have said. The tears were filled with such helplessness, a pain like no other that made you think it would never end. Ogami had never seen him like this, and he doubted he ever would again. He had always thought Toki was too strong for tears, but with the way the sobs stuck in the blonde's throat and made both of them shake with its intensity, he knew that it had been his own way of punishing himself. The mental strain on Toki had been so intense, and now it had finally snapped, and there was no way of holding it back.
Ogami turned him around in his arms, gently pushing Toki's face against his shoulder. “No one will see,” he whispered into his ear, and the small hitch in the other's breath ensured him that Toki hadn't missed his words. Fingers curled around the front of Ogami's shirt, and he could feel the tightness of the grip as nails scraped against his chest through the thin fabric.
His arms circled Toki's shoulders, and he said nothing when he felt soft hair tickle the side of his neck. He wouldn't force him to say anything, he wouldn't say anything to make the other teen angry at him. Not this time. This time, he would let it slip. He would act like nothing happened, like he hadn't seen this side of Toki, though it made an odd knot tighten in his stomach as he thought of the vulnerability that was shown to only him at this moment. He knew Toki well enough to know that had it been possible, he would rather have strangled himself instead of letting everyone know about this moment.
And that was okay. Because Ogami vowed to keep it their secret. Tonight, Toki could cry in his arms as much as he wanted.
There is no date, nor does it say exactly how old Toki was when Nenene was killed, so hey, intentional vagueness.