X/1999 Fan Fiction ❯ Not Over Yet ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: kamuichan99 
Chapter 1
Anime/Manga: X/1999 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.14.2004 | Updated On: 01.07.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 630 | Status: Completed
Chapter 1
Anime/Manga: X/1999 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Drama / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.14.2004 | Updated On: 01.07.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 630 | Status: Completed
Not Over Yet
A fanfiction by: kamuichan99
Genre: General, angst? (I’ll try and make sure it doesn’t stay that way for long ^^)
Warnings: spoilers for the end of the X TV series, future shounen-ai
Pairings: Kamui/Fuuma….for now ^_~
Disclaimer: X belongs to Clamp, not me.
Chapter 1
Sleep has not been kind to him since that fateful day. That day is all he ever dreams about, or to put it more correctly, has nightmares about. Not one night has gone by that he has not been violently torn from his slumber due to the haunting images of that day...The Promised Day
The nightmares always start off dark, until the lights of Tokyo Tower come into view. Soon the clashing of metal can be heard. Flashes of blue and red lightening illuminate the sky and synchronize with the clashes, as if they were programmed to. Two shadowy silhouettes appear; one tall with a muscular frame, the other shorter with a more delicate figure, both yielding an all too familiar weapon...the Divine Sword, the Shinken.
As a spectator to all of this, a sense of panic and desperation fills his senses, for he has seen this all played out before. He thinks perhaps he can do something, anything, to change the outcome this time. Soon the face of one of the figures can be distinguished. The taller one leaps up to initiate an attack on the other. Lightening flashes and he sees the taller figure’s face is his own, just before said figure brings his sword down one the smaller one.
‘Why...’ he thinks. A simple question that could pertain to so many things, and yet the only answer there is, is the infuriatingly painful logic, that it is destiny.
The battle continues, but he cannot seem to get any closer. He can only watch as the taller figure, who looks identical to him, eventually runs his sword through his opponent. In that instant, the scene changes for him. In his hands, he now holds the freshly bloodied sword. Then he can all too clearly see the face of the smaller figure. That dark, unruly mop of hair, the crimson blood, which was recently coughed up, that trails down the faintly pink lips to the delicate jawline. But what haunts him the most, however, are those two large violet eyes and the emotion they hold. For he knows that the fatal blow has been struck and soon the other will die, and yet he looks so…hopeful. It just seems so out of place for him. He should be sad, crying, or even better, angry and full of hatred for the one who has just…killed him. But no. His lips curve into a tragically beautiful smile, as he says his last words. Sometimes he hears those words, and other times he wakes up at this point, for that last look disturbs him so.
‘No...NO!...how could you let me do this...Kamui...you can’t die! Please!’
Fuuma shot straight out of bed. He was obviously tossing and turning in his sleep for his body was all tangled in the sheets. He was also drenched in a cold sweat and upon discovering this, went to go open his bedroom window for some air.
Fuuma tried, he really did. But he just could not get over Kamui’s death.
‘That look...how could you have so much hope for me...how could you even consider sacrificing yourself for me?!...how could you just so easily forgive me?...’
His dreams were not helping matters either. He wanted to live on for Kamui to grant Kamui’s last wish for him, in that respect, but it was proving very difficult to motivate himself to do so, as of late. He was all alone in the world now. He did not go and see any of the remaining Seals or Angels. How could he? He was not really close to any of the surviving ones as far as he knew from the hazy memories he had of being the other “Kamui.” In fact, he was pretty sure he hurt them all in one way or another. He thought of possibly going to see the Sumeragi though. As he recalled, that man also had a similar situation, but it was something he never went through with. He was too busy brooding over Kamui and his guilt that he felt for hurting him like he did when he was the leader of the Angels. That and well...school, trying to keep some semblence of a normal life in order to take care of himself, but well....let's just say that was a lower priority to Fuuma.
‘If I only was strong enough to fight it. I just wish I could have told you that I’m sorry, and thank you, and...and so much more. I know that I’m supposed to live on for you but what’s the point now? I have no one to share your legacy with or anything…what was your purpose for this, Kamui?’
Thoughts like that plagued Fuuma’s mind constantly. Fuuma would love nothing more to end his pitiful existence in hopes of perhaps joining Kamui, and everyone else, but he could never go through with it. After all, Kamui had to have some reason for this right? Perhaps it was his punishment. So he continued to live, tried to anyway if only to repent in some way, but all his thoughts tended to drift to a certain violet-eyed boy who had captured his heart, whether he realized it or not.
Fuuma retreated to his bathroom to splash his face with some cold water. He brought his hands down from his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The dark rings under his blood-shot eyes were proof he was not sleeping well at all. ‘God...I’m so pathetic,' he sighed and went to grab a towel but a sudden movement caught the corner of his eye. The movement had occurred within the mirror upon further inspection, and he saw his reflection, only now there were now golden pixel-like orbs floating around. He then saw as his reflection slowly shifted from the depressed, sleep-deprived form that was Fuuma, to a slim ethereal figure bathed in a heavenly golden aura. A painfully familiar figure. Fuuma eyes went as big as saucers as he let out a gasp.
“...K-Kamui?” The reflection turned to Fuuma, smiled and nodded. In an echoing voice he replied,
“It’s been a while, ne ne....Fuuma?”
Author's Note: GAH!!!! I can't believe I finally worked up the nerve to actually do this! If you knew me personally, you would understand that this really is a big deal for someone like me ^^; ::sigh:: Anyway, sorry if it seems terribly cliche and unoriginal but I think it will get better later on...maybe ^^;The next chapter will be up soon, just gotta type it, so yeah if anyone's interrested. It's my very first fanfic ever so be kind if you decide to review, I'm really nervous.
A fanfiction by: kamuichan99
Genre: General, angst? (I’ll try and make sure it doesn’t stay that way for long ^^)
Warnings: spoilers for the end of the X TV series, future shounen-ai
Pairings: Kamui/Fuuma….for now ^_~
Disclaimer: X belongs to Clamp, not me.
Chapter 1
Sleep has not been kind to him since that fateful day. That day is all he ever dreams about, or to put it more correctly, has nightmares about. Not one night has gone by that he has not been violently torn from his slumber due to the haunting images of that day...The Promised Day
The nightmares always start off dark, until the lights of Tokyo Tower come into view. Soon the clashing of metal can be heard. Flashes of blue and red lightening illuminate the sky and synchronize with the clashes, as if they were programmed to. Two shadowy silhouettes appear; one tall with a muscular frame, the other shorter with a more delicate figure, both yielding an all too familiar weapon...the Divine Sword, the Shinken.
As a spectator to all of this, a sense of panic and desperation fills his senses, for he has seen this all played out before. He thinks perhaps he can do something, anything, to change the outcome this time. Soon the face of one of the figures can be distinguished. The taller one leaps up to initiate an attack on the other. Lightening flashes and he sees the taller figure’s face is his own, just before said figure brings his sword down one the smaller one.
‘Why...’ he thinks. A simple question that could pertain to so many things, and yet the only answer there is, is the infuriatingly painful logic, that it is destiny.
The battle continues, but he cannot seem to get any closer. He can only watch as the taller figure, who looks identical to him, eventually runs his sword through his opponent. In that instant, the scene changes for him. In his hands, he now holds the freshly bloodied sword. Then he can all too clearly see the face of the smaller figure. That dark, unruly mop of hair, the crimson blood, which was recently coughed up, that trails down the faintly pink lips to the delicate jawline. But what haunts him the most, however, are those two large violet eyes and the emotion they hold. For he knows that the fatal blow has been struck and soon the other will die, and yet he looks so…hopeful. It just seems so out of place for him. He should be sad, crying, or even better, angry and full of hatred for the one who has just…killed him. But no. His lips curve into a tragically beautiful smile, as he says his last words. Sometimes he hears those words, and other times he wakes up at this point, for that last look disturbs him so.
‘No...NO!...how could you let me do this...Kamui...you can’t die! Please!’
Fuuma shot straight out of bed. He was obviously tossing and turning in his sleep for his body was all tangled in the sheets. He was also drenched in a cold sweat and upon discovering this, went to go open his bedroom window for some air.
Fuuma tried, he really did. But he just could not get over Kamui’s death.
‘That look...how could you have so much hope for me...how could you even consider sacrificing yourself for me?!...how could you just so easily forgive me?...’
His dreams were not helping matters either. He wanted to live on for Kamui to grant Kamui’s last wish for him, in that respect, but it was proving very difficult to motivate himself to do so, as of late. He was all alone in the world now. He did not go and see any of the remaining Seals or Angels. How could he? He was not really close to any of the surviving ones as far as he knew from the hazy memories he had of being the other “Kamui.” In fact, he was pretty sure he hurt them all in one way or another. He thought of possibly going to see the Sumeragi though. As he recalled, that man also had a similar situation, but it was something he never went through with. He was too busy brooding over Kamui and his guilt that he felt for hurting him like he did when he was the leader of the Angels. That and well...school, trying to keep some semblence of a normal life in order to take care of himself, but well....let's just say that was a lower priority to Fuuma.
‘If I only was strong enough to fight it. I just wish I could have told you that I’m sorry, and thank you, and...and so much more. I know that I’m supposed to live on for you but what’s the point now? I have no one to share your legacy with or anything…what was your purpose for this, Kamui?’
Thoughts like that plagued Fuuma’s mind constantly. Fuuma would love nothing more to end his pitiful existence in hopes of perhaps joining Kamui, and everyone else, but he could never go through with it. After all, Kamui had to have some reason for this right? Perhaps it was his punishment. So he continued to live, tried to anyway if only to repent in some way, but all his thoughts tended to drift to a certain violet-eyed boy who had captured his heart, whether he realized it or not.
Fuuma retreated to his bathroom to splash his face with some cold water. He brought his hands down from his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The dark rings under his blood-shot eyes were proof he was not sleeping well at all. ‘God...I’m so pathetic,' he sighed and went to grab a towel but a sudden movement caught the corner of his eye. The movement had occurred within the mirror upon further inspection, and he saw his reflection, only now there were now golden pixel-like orbs floating around. He then saw as his reflection slowly shifted from the depressed, sleep-deprived form that was Fuuma, to a slim ethereal figure bathed in a heavenly golden aura. A painfully familiar figure. Fuuma eyes went as big as saucers as he let out a gasp.
“...K-Kamui?” The reflection turned to Fuuma, smiled and nodded. In an echoing voice he replied,
“It’s been a while, ne ne....Fuuma?”
Author's Note: GAH!!!! I can't believe I finally worked up the nerve to actually do this! If you knew me personally, you would understand that this really is a big deal for someone like me ^^; ::sigh:: Anyway, sorry if it seems terribly cliche and unoriginal but I think it will get better later on...maybe ^^;The next chapter will be up soon, just gotta type it, so yeah if anyone's interrested. It's my very first fanfic ever so be kind if you decide to review, I'm really nervous.