By De Mouse

STANDARD DISCLAIMER : All the characters used in this story belongs solely to the author. Please note that this story is made only for personal entertainment purposes and does not make any profit whatsoever. Duplications of this story is strictly prohibited

WARNINGS : Vague yaoi implications, could make you nervous or drool or sigh wistfully at the slightest breeze in the future.

NOTES : This crap/crab of a story popped up as a result of 'For Red Silk's Wind Lady' and sitting too long on nice green grass while watching people stroll by. A little sad since Mouse-chan was in a rather nostalgic mood. The 'what if' syndrome that invaded her system wasn't really helping things much anyway. Oh, anti-yaoi flames will just result, a gale of hysterical laughter, one disbelieving shake of the head and a click of the delete button. So what does that tell you?

He came in silent as always.

Curtains fluttered in welcome of his presence.

Colorless eyes that stole the hue of the ever-changing sky flickered around the area. They now held the touch of yellow dipped with faded crimson, similar to the background beyond the open windows that framed his figure. The white on his seemingly weightless clothes reflected the tones of the fiery globe that was redrawing from its throne. Hair that was constantly toyed by a lazy breeze was just a fine line away from being described as faint gold. An intricate bangle that coiled around one ankle played as his sole decoration. Pale skin, almost transparent, stretched taut on the slender figure.

The room was small; perhaps he thought so was that because he spent most of his time free of the brick barriers these people called their homes. Feet that never once touched the ground moved gracefully causing the light murmur of turning pages belonging to sleeping books on the table. He noted with a gentle smile at the mess of clothes that lay littered on the wooden tiles. Music sheets containing black inked notes that danced over the paper scattered themselves all over one section of the floor. The well loved posters stared back at him from the pale walls while the long mirror sitting in a lone corner did nothing to reflect his image. Not a single moving picture of the unearthly creature who stood in the room awashed with gold light graced the hard surface.

The bangle on his ankle caught the light, the silver surface gleaming.

He tilted his head, his mind acknowledging the fact that he had been here before. He smiled, correcting his thoughts. He had been here many, many times. So many that the numbers that represented his visits held no meaning. Although he had been to a million places before, this one stood out amidst the rest. A part of him knew why he came but another part remained silent not wanting to speak of things that would serve to only disturb him. It was easier this way. Easier just to acknowledge reality and not to dwell on fantasies. His feet came to a stop as they reached the other side of the room.

He looked down.

Eyes softened at the sight of a dark haired boy sleeping on a dark blue couch. The boy's shirt rumpled from the long hours of studying and the restless tossing he made before falling asleep. One tanned hand was thrown over an abused looking cushion while the other dropped listlessly from the edge of the furniture that he was resting on. A mug that contained cold coffee sat on the floor nearby.

Strange calmness fell over his being. It felt different from the soothing caress of the air or the violent twist of a storm or even the gentle descend of snow from the sky. Different from anything he knew.

That puzzled him. He had never encountered something like this before. Of course, he knew the name of what he was feeling. Many a time he had seen people who were engaged in it. Seen them cry, laugh, shout, scream, touch and hold each other. But all that was watched with detachment since he did not feel. Could not feel, was not made to feel.

Never did the thought cross his mind to want. The need to experience such new strangeness. Yet he found it within himself. Growing each day although he did nothing to nourish it like a stubborn song that sang through the rain. He puzzled, worried and questioned it. Knowing that such things were never meant to happen, he tried pushing it away hoping it would die with each setting sun. But still the persistent longing dragged him across large expenses of land and blue oceans, to this sleeping boy.

To this single person.

The smile turned a little wryly. If he had something these people called 'health', he was sure this habit was considered very -unhealthy-.

Eyes widened as the thought crossed his mind. He realized that he had made a couple of words that was mildly humorous. An act that he had never done since he came into the world. Could never do for he never had the ability to do so.

A frown made its appearance on his face.

He tried to remember when he suddenly found himself changing. Perhaps it started with that single glimpse of dark blue eyes before the sweet song of morning sang in his heart. Or did it happened on one of the many times he had came searching for an answer. The ever-changing eyes stared at the sleeping youth, a silent question almost hidden by the long eyelashes. He wanted to ask so many questions, wanted to know each answer. His other friends, like him, did not have such answers. They did not have such experience either. When he asked them, they just looked at him with blankness in their own eyes. He had little doubt that he had changed and the cause was this boy who was asleep on the couch.

His head jerked upwards, a small gesture. His lips thinned hearing the call of the wind. His name floated through the air, rustling the tips of the green leaves. Another part of him felt the firm pull. Invisible chains tugged at him, a command that he could not ignore. The demand to rejoin his brothers and sisters who were dancing with the golden clouds outside while waiting for the gold to turn inky darkness so that calmness could be exchanged its nemesis.

A sigh, soft like the feathers on a white dove.

He bent down; elegant lines that no mortal could ever hope to achieve.

Long fingers touched the tanned forehead. They brushed the dark hair away from the closed eyes. So loving was the gesture, like a lover's caress. Fingers lowered themselves onto the highboned cheeks. He marveled at the contrast of their skin colors. A smile appeared again, he leaned forward just a little more wondering why he could only feel the calmness in his soul and nothing else. He wished that he could call it cruel, not to be able to feel, but couldn't.

A breath away from the other.

So close……….yet so far.

Longing clear like the cry of a bird, sang through him. For once he did not question it.

For a heartbeat the dark eyelashes fluttered closed. Pale lips brushed against the slightly darker ones of the sleeping youth. He savored the feel of the soft warmness, allowing the moment to stretch just a little longer. Imagined there was a heart beating under his chest, not the stillness belonging to a being that had no name. Tasted the sweetness of such a simple contact. Arms ached to pull the youth closer, keeping him at his side. His soul wanted to stay, to become a silent ghost at the boy's side.

But he did neither.

The call swirled around him and the invisible bounds tugged to pull him away. He opened his eyes, feeling the warmth leaving as the touch broke. His parted to say a word he managed catch through the countless conversations that he slipped past.

A single name, so faint.

The first time he had ever spoken.

The dark haired youth woke at the slight sound. His startling blue eyes wide as he searched his room. His ears insisted that they heard his name echoed scant inches away. He sat up, hearing only the fluttering from the pages of his book. The music sheets chased each other in a small whirlwind and the curtains moved ever so slightly in the dying breeze. The walls gleamed fading gold as the sun lazily conceded night into the sky.

No one's there.

He was alone.

He blinked recalling the vague wisps of his blurry dream that was clinging onto his conscious mind. He shook his head in disbelieve as he straightened his shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair, laughing at his imagination. There wasn't nobody in the room. He glanced at his watch before quickly gathering up his books from the table. The door swung open to allow its occupant out.

He paused feeling something was amiss. Then the dark head shook again, clearing his mind of such thoughts.

It was just a dream.

The door clicks shut. The room empty. Music sheets stopped their play favoring to lie silently on the floor. The setting sun gradually took away the gold of the four walls. Curtains moved just one last time before settling down.

Nothing was there.

It was just a dream.

Just a whisper of the wind.

~OWARI~

Now mouse-chan is feeling more nostalgic!!