Title: A Waking Dream
Author: Growly
Part: 1/1
Warnings: Death fic, Angst ahead!
Disclaimer: Even the background characters don't belong to me… *sigh*
Summary: Daisuke's feelings when he loses the one closest to him.
Pairing: Daisuke/Hiroshi

C&C please.

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People are funny creatures, aren't they? It's amazing the kind of things people will do for trivial reasons… well… maybe not so trivial when you think about it. It's also amazing how little we seem affected when something serious is at stake. Maybe it's just because we don't realize it until it's too late, but…

I'm babbling again. Somehow I can't help it. I've never been the talkative type normally, just a guy who hung around in the background a lot. Maybe the fact that I wasn't a particularly important person to anyone made me feel as secure as I did then. Who would bother with someone as unimportant as me? As us?

Part of me doesn't want to believe this is happening. I look at the silent and hushed group of martial artists and I want to scream at them. I want to rush at them and beat them with my bare fists. How dare they stand there remorseful? It won't change anything!

And what of Ranma? I feel rage building in my chest as I look at him standing there with his arm curled around his fiancee. When the first pain of this tragedy has passed, he and she will find comfort in each others arms, but what about me?

Not all the tears in the world can bring my beloved back to me.

Am I to take comfort in the fact that he faced his death with a courage that was remarkable for a mere boy, a high school sophomore? Or perhaps from the realization that his death had not been in vain, nor had it gone unavenged? Words… all words… they pass me by and leave me nothing to hold on to but my grief.

My gaze falls on Ranma again… did he ever know how much Hiroshi admired him, despite his strange curse? Probably not. It always made me jealous…just a bit, even if it was nothing more than hero worship. But how could I have known? Ranma had stolen so many hearts already, would it have been much of a shock to find that he had the heart of the boy I loved?

No. Nothing shocking about that. The only shocking thing was that he chose me instead of Ranma. I still remember the happy glint in his eyes, and as I stare into the casket, I try to impose his smiling image over the still, pale face there. The goofy little grin he wore when he was joking, the healthy tan of his cheeks, his bright, lively eyes.

I reach out to brush a strand of his unruly hair away from his face, and wince as my fingers touch his cool skin. I want to reach out and draw him close, rub the warmth back into his body, press my lips against his and breath the life back into his still form.

But I don't. I pull away, biting back the tears that threaten. You should never have been there at all… not even to "just watch" as you put it. I could never stop you though, when you had something you wanted. You apologized, I remember… I could hear it even above the harsh, painful sobs in my throat. You were sorry for being so foolish.

Ugh… I don't want your apology! I want YOU here! I want to be able to take you in my arms and hug you tight to my chest and tell you how much of an idiot you really are, and that I love you so much…

Someone says words about you… I don't hear them well, just enough to know that the person they're describing is not the boy I know. No one knew you as well as I did. All your quirks and habits. Who else knew every inch of you? I knew you as well as I know myself… maybe better.

Akane is hugging me, extending sympathies as they lower you into the ground. It's almost as if she knew what you meant to me. Even so, I do not stay to commiserate with their little group. I head back home, weary in spirit, weary in emotion.

I throw myself down on the bed I never had the opportunity to share with you, my chest hitching as I fight back the screams and tears that threaten to escape. I'm the cool one, right? Always droll and out of it… You were the life and the heart of us…

My hand brushes fabric and I freeze as I pull it into view and recognize it as yours. Who else has such bad taste in clothing? Blue with white flowers… even now it's enough to make me wince. The tears are finally free, running down my cheeks as I bury my face in your shirt, surround myself with your familiar scent.

Denial rises again, as I curl into a fetal ball, clutching your shirt to my chest. It can't be happening… It's just a bad dream… When I wake up I'll see your smiling face close to mine and this time I won't hesitate. Instead I'll pull you close and silence your questions with kisses, show you just how much you mean to me without words to get in the way.

Because you can't be dead… you're part of me. All those years we spent together, so much so that we could complete each others sentences…If you were dead, my heart couldn't be breaking, because you are my heart.

Please… let me wake up soon…

Please…

*fin*