Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Learning to Love ❯ Life? ( Chapter 9 )

Legal Disclaimer - I do not own FAKE. If I did, the mangas would feature Ryo and Dee doing it in a hot tub, on the couch, in the elevator, in a supply closet, in the copy room, in the kitchen, in various hotels, and at a movie theater. Wow, how many people wished I owned it now?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note - Okay, not a lot of reviews last chapter. I was kinda sad, but I'm updating because this story is the total shit; it is amazing and I love it. Therefore, I am going to keep writing…no matter what. I will die with a pen in my hand, a keyboard on my back, and a Kitkat bar in my pocket.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, and a very IMPORTANT NOTE!!! In the story, one of the characters visits a Church. I'm not religious, but I know enough. However, this one branch of Christianity I am not familiar with. If I describe something incorrectly or inaccurately, I'm sorry I offended. If you are Jewish or whatever, I'm sorry if I offended (I sorta am too…but…whatever…) you at all. But you must understand that during this time period, religion is a big hoohaw. Thank you for reading this IMPORTANT NOTE concerning the story. Did the CAPS LOCK catch your attention or what?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9 - Life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dee ran down the stairs two at a time, his blood boiling; his heart racing.

 

“Arnon! Damn you! What are you scheming?” Dee growled angrily in his head, rounding a corner into a darkened hallway.

 

He found that the door to Ryo's chambers was cracked with no source of light coming from inside. Dee's heart crawled up into his throat as his stomach dropped to his toes. Running to the door, he threw it open violently; the empty bedroom came into view.

 

“Ryo! RYO!” Dee shouted, looking about the room.

 

Sniffing the air, Dee could detect Ryo's fair scent mixed with a great deal of distress. A book lay half opened on the floor at the foot of the bed; a blanket lay neglected nearby.

 

“Something has happened here…” Dee thought, his mouth going dry.

 

Dee walked inside to commence a more thorough search, but stopped as his foot hit something soft and breathing on the floor before him. Looking down, Dee realized that it was Tsuki, fast asleep on the carpet. He cursed.

 

“Ryo…where are you?” Dee wondered, breathing in deeply.

 

Once again, Ryo's scent reached his nose, this time smelling of pure fear and terror. Dee blanched; his hands began to sweat.

 

“This isn't good…” Dee thought, before running down the hall at a full-blown run.

 

He ran through the maze of hallways and corridors, following the Ryo's scent and the barely-there smell of roses…As he ran, Dee could detect each emotion that Ryo had felt just moments before: fear, sadness, regret, bliss…somehow, the latter did not seem to fit. There was a piece of the puzzle that Dee was missing…

 

“What in all the seven Hells is going on? Arnon. What are you plotting? What does Ryo have to do with it? Please…please don't hurt him!” Dee felt something aching in his heart; what would he do if Ryo was gone?

 

Dee soon was standing before the main double doors leading out into the night; one of the doors was open. He left the castle and ventured out onto the grounds where the full moon bathed the snow-covered land a pale blue. Dee noticed that there were footprints in the snow; he felt his heart racing harder than before. What on earth would he find when those footprints ended?

 

 

Following the footprints, Dee realized instantly where they led: Arnon's Garden.

 

 

 

 

pppdddppp

 

 

 

 

He raised his fist to knock on the heavy wooden door, bouncing on the balls of his feet as a poor defense mechanism to keep warm. He needed to talk to someone, someone who knew what he would be feeling so he could confirm that he wasn't such a crazy, obsessed loon like everyone else was probably thinking he was. Looking out into the snowy courtyard, Berkley could only think of that one time…

 

------Flashback-------

 

Berkley Rose's POV (point of view)

 

It was a cold, snowy night and I was sitting before the fire, playing with Chap, my old English boarhound. My uncle sat beside me on his recliner, puffing away at his big, black pipe. It smelt like peppermint. I asked if I could puff like him and he told me that it was a bad habit and that I shouldn't do it. My aunt, who was baking carrot cake in the big brick fireplace in the kitchen, nodded in agreement. She said my parents wouldn't like it one bit. I looked up at the dusty glass frame on our mantelpiece. My father sat beside my mother, both wearing identical smiles, forever imprisoned in that one, black-and-white moment in time.

 

I looked down sadly. It was almost Christmas, the first Christmas it would be without both of my parents. Father had died when I was younger, but I still remember tending the fields with him, and going hunting and fishing with him. After he died—no, murdered—my mother became sick from her broken heart. She wasted away for months until one glorious morning, when I had come home from church, there she lay, her grey eyes still open, the Holy Bible clasped in one hand and a photo of Father in the other. Those eyes were so dead…

 

There was a knock at the door at this point and I looked at my uncle. He told me to go get it, because he “sure as Hell wasn't going to” and so I did. I undid the latch on the door and opened it by the large, circular handle. Standing out in the snow, pale as a ghost, was Randy, please call me “Ryo,” McLane. He was dressed in such a way that made me think that he had gotten up in a great hurry. There was snow all over him; those cheeks were flushed and those eyes were shimmering in the scarce moonlight. He was beautiful.

 

“Ryo?” I asked, reaching out to touch him.

 

He fell into my arms, a bundle of icicles and clothes still too big for him. Ryo began to sob on my shoulder uncontrollably. Aunty looked worried while Uncle appeared knowing. And all I could do was hold Ryo as he cried over the death of his mother.

 

-----End of Flashback-----

 

Regular Third Person Point of View

 

 

“Sir?”

 

Berkley turned around and was met with the face of a nun, her youthful face accented by the flicker of the lantern in her right hand; he removed his hat in her presence.

 

“Sister, I need to see the Father,” Berkley said.

 

Her pale, blue eyes widened a bit.

 

“I believe he's sleeping now, good Sir. But I'll go and fetch him for you,” she told him.

 

“I will meet him in the Confessional then, Sister,” Berkley replied and stepped inside after her.

 

Berkley shook some snow off his coat and hung it on a rack in the small foyer. He put his hat on the rack as well before entering the main cathedral. There were several rows of hard-backed pews with old, peeling books of Scripture and Hymn resting on their dull maple surfaces. He walked down the aisle, his eyes taking in the array of colors that landed upon the floor from the stained glass windows of the Worship of the Lord. At the end of the walkway, Berkley knelt before The Alter and made the sign of the Cross before standing and walking towards the Confessional booth.

 

The Confessional was indeed a frightening piece of work. It was nine feet high and painted black, where it loomed ominously before him. The booth had always frightened him as a child. Berkley could remember coming every Sunday and shivering in fear as he went in to pay Repentance to the Lord for all of his sins. He remembered that one Sunday, a week after…

 

----Flashback-----

 

(Once Again) Berkley's POV

 

((Go with me here…lots and lots of flashbacks to come! Sorry!))

 

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” I said, bowing my head.

 

I always thought that Father would be able to see me through that screen put up between us. But he always assured me that he could not. However, I would always notice the way he would look at me the following Sunday. It was like he knew it was I. That's why I was so afraid to tell him what happened last Sunday walking home…

 

“Yes, Child, I'm listening,” Father replied.

 

`Child,' I thought. `So he does know who I am…'

 

Not many children went to this church. Most of the village went to the First Purchase Methodist Church because it was close and right there in the heart of town. The few of us, a grand total of maybe eight other children, came here to St. Lucy's Catholic Church. Five girls and three boys attended, all the children of farmers who lived way out here. I lived near town, but I still walked the whole mile and a half to come here. At least I didn't walk alone…

 

“I have committed a sin. I wish for Forgiveness,” I said, not wishing to go into the details.

 

“I see, Child. And for what is it that you would wish for Forgiveness from the Lord?” Father asked; I hated it when he did this, the nosy old—

 

“I went against the Word of God to satisfy my curiosity,” I replied, hoping to leave it at that so Father could grant me pardon and I could leave with a guilt-free conscience.

 

“How so?” Father inquired.

 

`I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! Why do you have to know?!' I thought angrily.

 

“I would rather not say,” I answered.

 

“Oh, come now, Child,” Father began.

 

“If God really is All-Seeing and All-Knowing, then He shall know what I have done,” I replied, wincing at the sound of spite in my voice.

 

I really didn't like coming to church. I only went because Aunty made me. If I had my way, I'd be done with the whole affair and spend Sundays sleeping in.

 

“I see, but I cannot grant you full Pardon until the deed is spoken aloud. If it is not and kept inside then the sin will not leave you, but continue to dwell within you,” Father explained.

 

`If that is true, I'll eat my socks,' I thought bitterly. `The nosy old coot just wants to know.'

 

“Tell me of your sins, Child, and wipe clean your tarnished slate,” Father said.

 

I sighed. I could always not come back next Sunday. Or I could always just walk out. But something was making me stay…I needed clarity. I needed to know exactly why I had done what I had done.

 

“I…I-I kissed another boy. On the lips,” I added as an afterthought.

 

After all, boys kissed their fathers and grandfathers and uncles and cousins. But to kiss another boy on the lips? A friend no less? And to want that boy as a man wanted a woman? Was that not a sin? And why suddenly was Father so quiet?

 

“Father?” I squeaked.

 

The door on the other side of the Confessional closed. I was all alone. And I had not gained a clean slate. But the truth was…I really didn't care. I liked what I did. I knew what I did. And if I could do it all over again, I sure as Hell would, God or no God.

 

------End of Flashback-----

 

Normal Third Person Point of View

 

 

Berkley sat down in the Confessional, noting with disgust that he had once been afraid of a large, black box with crucifixes hanging all over it. It had been a while since he had been to church, much less in a Confessional and it made him a bit unnerved. Father would surely remember him, if he could indeed see through that screen. Would he hold a grudge against him for going against God? Berkley hoped not. He really needed some guidance, spiritual or not, he just needed someone to talk to.

 

The door on the other side of the booth opened and he heard the sound of someone sitting down. Berkley waited a moment; he knew Father liked to straighten the cross around his neck before switching the Bible from his right hand, to his left, and then back to his right. Once all the rustling stopped, Berkley began.

 

“Forgive me, Father, for I do not come to you tonight with hopes for Forgiveness,” Berkley began; Father only grunted in response. “I come to you tonight for some guidance.”

 

“Go on, my Child,” Father replied, his voice old and weary.

 

Berkley had almost forgotten that the Father must have been quite old by this point, as he had been along in his years when he was still a child. Berkley began.

 

He told the Father all that had happened, with Ryo gone missing and the townspeople's panic. He told of what he had found in the forest, his theories on Ryo's disappearance and whereabouts.

 

“Do you…do you think I'm crazy, Father?” Berkley asked.

 

Father was silent for a long, long time.

 

“I don't know, Child. I don't know,” Father replied.

 

Berkley heard him getting up on the other side of the booth.

 

“I'm sorry, Mr. Rose, but I do believe that this is the second time I've failed you, is it not?” Father inquired.

 

“You can see me through that thing, can't you?” Berkley asked, indicating the screen separating them.

 

“How many times do I have to tell you, Child, no, I cannot. And I'm sorry I cannot help you. Only God can guide you at this point. Everything is going in accordance with His plan, and not yours. A good night to you,” Father said, before exiting.

 

Berkley sat there, numb with disbelief and anger and confusion. What would he do now? A face swam into his vision of dark green eyes and ash-blonde hair.

 

“Diana…” He thought, before standing. “She would know what to do…”

 

Standing, Berkley exited the booth and walked down the aisle once more, his head down as his thoughts began to wander. At the door, he put on his hat and coat before lighting two small, white candles and putting them on a small podium before the foyer window.

 

Berkley left out the door and walked into the night, snow crunching beneath his boots with each step he took. In the middle of the courtyard, Berkley stopped and looked back at the Church. He could see the light of the two candles he lit through the dark window. Berkley had lit two candles for two people. The first one was lit for the light of his life, Ryo, who he sought. The other was lit for the one who took Ryo away; perhaps God would have mercy on him because he sure as Hell wouldn't.

 

 

 

 

pppddddpppp

 

 

 

 

Dee's heart stopped as he rounded the corner. There, lying on the old, green bench in the middle of the dying garden was Ryo. He ran to the pale form and knelt beside him.

 

“Ryo…?” Dee whispered softly.

 

Ryo did not stir. He was deathly pale, tinged with blue at the lips and eyelids, and his chest did not rise or fall with the breath of Life. Bruises stood out in irregular patterns on his neck and arms. Rose petals were scattered all about him.

 

“Ryo?” Dee repeated, louder this time at an attempt to rouse him.

 

Tears started to form at the corners of his eyes.

 

“Ryo! Wake up!” Dee cried, grasping Ryo's shoulders and shaking the still form.

 

He did not move. Dee leaned over him and ran his fingers through Ryo's hair while his free hand gripped Ryo's right. It was cold and there was no pulse in his slender wrist.

 

“RYO!” Dee shouted, squeezing his hand.

 

A crow flew from the dying garden.

 

“No…no…come back to me…” Dee sobbed quietly as he pulled the cold body to him.

 

Dee took Ryo into his arms and cradled him there, burying his nose into those blonde tresses. He rocked back and forth while clutching Ryo close to him.

 

“Ryo…please…please come back…” Dee pleaded softly, his plea muffled in Ryo's hair.

 

Ryo's eyes began to open, but Dee did not notice.

 

“I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Ryo…come back…” Dee continued mumbling.

 

Those blue orbs opened fully, staring unfocusedly ahead. A twisted smile made its way to his lips as the cerulean faded into a darker chocolate.

 

“Dee?”

 

Dee looked down, aghast, as Ryo turned his head upward and gazed lovingly back into his eyes; brown met green.

 

“Oh, Ryo! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry…” Dee said, pulling Ryo into a bone-crushing hug.

 

Ryo's eyes flickered from brown to azure and then back to almond again before Dee pulled away and cupped Ryo's cheek in his hand.

 

“What happened? I was so…I thought you were dead,” Dee whispered, his lips brushing over Ryo's.

 

“I don't remember,” he answered, hugging his knees to his chest.

 

Dee took off his cloak and wrapped it around him.

 

“Let's get you inside,” Dee said, pulling him to his feet.

 

Ryo stood beside him and buried his head in Dee's chest.

 

“I'm afraid, Dee.”

 

“It's okay. I'm not going to let anything else happen to you.”

 

A wicked smile came to Ryo's face and his ice blue eyes, hidden by the folds of Dee's cloak.

 

“You should be worried about yourself, my darling Dee.”

 

 

 

pppddddpppp

 

 

 

After Talk with The Random Queen:

 

Yay! I actually updated! Aren't you all just so flippin' happy? -hides from all the NHABF fans that are ready to kill- Yeah, well, I finally got out for summer break and I'm going to try and finish up all these stories that I've got going because, GUESS WHAT?! I have the most brilliant story idea for my next FAKE fic. -ducks behind a wall as the NHABF fans open fire with AK47s- Okay. Okay. I'll update. Eventually. I got like…one sentence down on that next chapter for NHABF…yeah. Please don't shoot me…

 

About the Characters…………….

 

Like, OMG! Ryo is dead. That's right. He's DEAD. D-E-A-D! Well. Sorta. But you'll all have to wait until I get the next chapter out. And, yes. Dee got very emotional in this chapter. But, why wouldn't he? A hottie like Ryo just going off and dying on you, I mean, really! I'd be sobbin' too! Je-su-s!

 

And everyone got a little peek into Berkley and Ryo's pasts! Aren't you all excited?! This is getting to the first climax in the story! Yes. THERE CAN BE TWO CLIMAX POINTS IN A STORY! Well…I think anyway…and if there can't be…then this is like…the one. Because. It's scary. And…erk…I'll come back to this when I have more adjectives, `kay?

 

Parting Words and The Bribe:

 

Yeah. You know the drill. Leave a review and you get another chapter. But if you're really nice…I'll…bake you a pie. I make good pies too. Like, from scratch. You'd all like that…right? Yeah. And if you're really, really nice and you like my pie, I'll update Never Had a Boyfriend too. Okies?

 

Thanks for reading! You all make my world go round!

 

 

 

The Random Queen

 

 

Thanks and see you soon!