Titolo: You wore your sorrow and bloomed beautifully
Fandom: Kyoukai No Kanata
Personaggi: Akihito Kanbara, menzione di Mirai Kuriyama
Genere: malinconico
Avvertimenti: missing moment, in inglese
Parole: 558
Note: Finalmente ho un motivo legit di usare questa icon <3 e finalmente scrivo su questa ship che cristo santo guardando i film mi son fatta di quei pianti che ciaone a tutti. Questa fic è situata durante il primo film, quando Mirai ancora non ha fatto 2+2 e Akihito fa finta di non conoscerla per proteggerla (adjdnkjnlkjfg).
Ed è scritta per la M7, "immortalità". Grz @ COW-T per farmi scrivere su roba sulla quale volevo scrivere da tanto <3

Akihito's lips curve just the slightest bit, as he sits outside watching the first cherry blossoms fall into a mild wind. They're seconds, they're tiny insignificant moments, yet life is made of them. He wishes his own life was that small, that cozy, something to spend with normal worries and normal signs that one day it will end.

The petals fall down on the concrete, and that's it. Their life span is over. The soft melancholic smile fades slowly, when he looks away from the pink rain blowing with the wind, graceful and quiet. There is too much silence.

Once he did not mind being immortal. It came with an ugly beast feeding off his fear and pain, it came with things he could not control, and it came with having to contain himself constantly, lest he'd cause grief and harm to everyone around him, and he hated that. He hated losing consciousness and waking up sprawled somewhere with wounds and a whole landscape destroyed by the youkai always howling inside of him.

But the rest of the time... it was not bad. As long as he knew all he needed to do was not approach anyone who would be unable to fight the youkai off, as long as he kept himself shut from anyone trying to chip away at his well rehearsed and well built mask, it would be okay. It had been okay, mostly, if he avoided thinking about things too much. And he'd planned on making things keep being okay for the time being. He didn't deserve 'okay' anyway.

But now knowing his life will keep going on, and on, and on, it's way worse than any wound, any torture, even any sense of guilt he's ever felt before.

And it's all Mirai's fault. Or, well, maybe it's his own fault too. But really, it was her fault, stalking him and stabbing him and being closer to him than anyone else ever was as she kept trying to kill him. Funny how that ended up pulling them close. You don't generally fall in love with a girl who drives a sword through you any time she sees you, but here he is, looking at cherry blossoms and remembering how just a few months ago he'd unwillingly confessed to her. How she cried, then. How all of their plans had turned south.

But back then, he still didn't really hate being immortal. He didn't hate waking up in the morning and dreading that he was alive, he was not afraid of going to school and seeing her. He did not loathe the cold clenching feeling around his heart when she'd look at him and just blink or frown suspicious, before walking away completely unaware of what she could do to him by just being there, of all the memories that would resurface every time. They were erased from her mind, but they are still clear in his memory. Maybe it's punishment for something, maybe it's another price to pay for a long, endless life. But if he thinks about having to spend one more day acting like he doesn't know her, he'll rip his own skin away.

So he shakes his head, deciding he'll just keep watching the petals fall, dancing slow and taking their time, dying gracefully next to his feet. For today, this'll do.