Disclaimer: Gackt and Hyde aren't mine. *sigh* Neither are Sho and Kei. ;___;
Summary: Sho's POV. A simple monologue in which Sho contemplates his relationship with Kei.
It started with curiosity.
Probably curiosity to see how far I could provoke him without getting myself killed. I wasn’t too keen on finding myself on the receiving end of his gun - or his fangs - but there was a perverse pleasure in trying to drive him to the edge.
He’d bare his fangs at me, wave his gun around, growl his “What if I decide to drink your blood”s and I’d laugh. Hopefully, he never takes offense at my laughing at him, because the day he does is the day my ass is toast.
See, I hate things I can’t understand. And I could never understand that guy. I mean, what kind of guy would willingly be turned into a vampire? Immortality must be nice for a while, but it takes its toll, too. I see it in his eyes every day. Perhaps that was the first thing that drew me to him in the first place when I was a kid: that raw loneliness in his eyes. That regret.
When I saw him feeding from a man that had harmed us once (this was the first time I had ever seen a vampire in my life), it scared the hell out of me. I told him it didn’t, because I didn’t want him to think I was a little kid. I had seen far too many things in my few years of life to be considered a ‘kid’. But when I saw the blood smeared on his face, I swore I’d have nightmares for years about it.
I didn’t exactly have nightmares that night. But I did think about him.
I always dream strange things. Either I dream about the parents I have never had, or I dream about the future, and what could possibly happen. But that night, I dreamt about him. I dreamt he was trying to fly and he couldn’t, but an angel came and caught him in midair.
I never claimed any trace of sanity, now did I?
One thing I’ll always remember, though. I always associate him with the moon. Because it’s just about the only time I see him go outside - when the moon is out. Being a vampire, he cannot go out into the sun, lest he wishes for death. Only way to kill his kind. Both he and the moon seem...alike, somehow. Stoic, quiet, watching everything, observing everything, taking in everything. Almost calm, in a way.
Except him with a gun and a thirst for blood is anything but calm, I promise you.
But underneath it all, I can see right through him. Sometimes when I dream, I can hear voices that tell me to look out for him. Because he’s more lost than I am and he deserves a life just as much as I do.
He’s taken care of me and watched me grow up. Despite how annoying I must have been at times, and how annoying I may still be, he’s stuck right by me, refusing to leave my side. I wonder what it is sometimes that holds him to me. Maybe it’s because I was the first person to not stare at him in disgust. Whatever it is, I am thankful for it.
And, yes. He deserves a life just as much as myself. I believe he wishes it could be a normal life...but how do you really define ‘normal’, anyway? Is there such a thing?
He’s tried. Really hard. And I’ve been here to help him.
His eyes...there’s something frighteningly lost in them, and I’m almost scared by it. Until I remember I’ve been through hell itself and walked out alive.
I’ve wanted to help him ever since I first saw him, despite the fact that he looked like he would snap my neck off if I ever offered him a hair brush (What? His hair used to look awful), much less help of any sort.
I used to pray to whatever God there was to kill me, because I wanted out of this hell life. I hated living on the streets. But, I guess God either doesn’t exist or he’s a sadistic bastard, ‘cause here I am, alive. Been threatened to be killed a lot of times. Been shot at a lot of times. Been injured pretty badly. I’m never lucky enough to die.
Except then, I found myself with an obligation (only brought upon by myself...I seem to get myself into a lot of shit) to look after him.
He looked like he needed a little looking after, anyway.
He’s a weird guy. Doesn’t talk much, never smiles, finds himself expendable. He broods around our home like he deserves to die, and I can’t help but disagree. Me, I hate life sometimes, but I’m a bit addicted to breathing, y’know? I’d rather not give up on that for a while. And I’ll be damned if I’m taken down by some half-intelligent yakuzas who think they’re badasses.
And he has this penchant for waving a gun around. Makes him feel more secure, I suppose. Makes me feel like I’m living in a landmine: he wakes up waving it in my face. Scared the crap out of me the first time he did that.
But we all have our idiosyncrasies, I suppose. I mean, he was pretty forgiving about the time he woke me up only to find a knife at his throat.
Well, not like a little knife pressed against the skin of his neck would kill him, anyway. A gun, on the other hand, can most certainly kill me.
There was always something sort of...mysterious about him. Strange. Off-kilter definitely. Made me want to know what he was hiding under that persistent frown. It was as if he’d had a past, but he’d chosen to erase it completely from his memory banks. Like he’d felt something other than regret and pain at sometime in his life, but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble and deleted it.
Sometimes, I’d watch him while he drank from the men that we fought. He had this detached aura emanating from him that always seemed so black, so unemotional.
That was when the curiosity kicked in. I wanted to see if I could make him show emotion. To anything. Laugh, smile, even yell if it was anything but “What if I decide to turn on you and drink your blood?”.
So that was how I gave myself Mission: Smile. Yeah, yeah. Stupid, I know. But I wanted to see him grin. I had only seen him smile once, and that was when he knew I wouldn’t leave his side because he had killed someone and drank their blood. That was a very, very long time ago.
Hey, if he’s so pretty when frowning, think of him laughing.
I said it, didn’t I? Yeah, he’s cute.
The first few attempts only got an evil look and a flash of fangs. Finally he decided the best way to get rid of me would be to ignore me. But I’m not that easily ignored. If and when I want, you can’t drown me out with a 50-piece marching band.
Besides, I really wanted to get through to him.
He was really broken inside. I was trying to invoke an emotion he’d buried so deeply he didn’t know it existed inside him anymore.
Didn’t stop me from trying, though. I’d pull all sorts of stupid antics, make a fool out of myself, do anything.
Somewhere in the middle of the teasing, I found something out. I had fallen in love with him. Great.
You know, it’s kind of hard to make someone smile when just their entering the room makes you think dirty thoughts and you have to find the nearest bathroom. It was so weird, because I’d figured myself master of emotions, then I find something I can’t understand.
And then I figured out how he was feeling.
Wanna know how I made him smile?
By him waking me up in the dead of night, me being completely disoriented from severe lack of sleep, waving around a knife I had, saying whatever came to mind. Among those random phrases was, “And I fucking love you, Kei.”
Hey, I made him smile.
Made him do a lot more, too.
...Curiosity is a nice thing.