Flat Notes

Far below, human life seemed meaningless, unless, without real tune or rhythm. He could see all of the trees set ablaze in their fall colors, calling him with deep passionate reds and calming yellows. The sky was a dazzling sort of bluish gray that was quiet happy and wasn't quite drab. Cars roared past his perch, and tiny toy people strode past him, never looking up.

So much for going out with an audience and applause.

He slipped the reed into the mouthpiece of his saxophone and raised the instrument to his mouth. Whatever beautiful sounds that may have emitted were lost in the sounds of city life. That seemed to happen a lot with life in general. If something was deemed unimportant, it was snuffed out an smothered. But he kept playing, lost in note combinations and breath control.

He heard the flap of enormous wings behind him, and turned, wiggling a little farther back from his precarious position on the ledge of the roof. A guy stood just behind him, chocolate eyes burning with an intense frown.

He wondered how the guy managed to get so close to him without his noticing. But instead of questioning he looked up and smiled, big and wide. "Wanna join me?" the guy sat down, right beside him, looking over the edge at his dangling feet and the meaningless lives below.

"What are you doing up here? Going to kill yourself?" the guy asked, crossing his arms and staring out over the landscape. In the half daylight, he looked ethereal, wisps of smog and mist swirling about him and tossing burning orange hair. It was the kind of thing poets wrote about. He shined. The guy shined so bright it burnt his eyes.

He settled his saxophone comfortably in his lap, staring out as well, unable to see anything in what he was looking at. "Yup. Wanna stay and watch?" he was subjected to another intense glare, but it softened as the guy looked at him, almost pitying. They sat in silence for a few moments and he lifted his saxophone again, wetting the reed to play.

Burning chocolate eyes watched him in interest as a few squeaky notes were released. He wet the reed a little more, before playing a fast upbeat song. His foot tapped the beat on the air, swaying back and forth to keep time. He felt himself practically soar with each notes before he slowly brought himself back down to reality, and boring old earth.

He wasn't really killing himself because he was sad. He admitted that there was a deep sorrow that he wouldn't even admit to himself buried somewhere deep, but he masked it over. A part of him wanted something exciting. A part of him just wanted Ichigo back. When he looked at the guy sitting beside him, he kind of resembled Ichigo, only prettier. The guy beside him burned brightly.

"Why do you want to die?" his only audience asked him. What a wonderful question.

His secret hidden heart told him that killing himself was the proper action to take. Ichigo, his only real life line, his lover, his brother and his best friend was gone. Ichigo had been the last string of sanity, the last thing that made him worthless life a little more meaning ful. He kinda hated the guy for kicking the bucket on him.

"My boyfriend died. Car crash. He made it to the hospital but..." he vaguely remembered the feeling he had riding with Ichigo in the ambulance, telling the bloody bastard not to close those burning eyes. "It was internal hemorrhaging."

He stood up, standing with his toes just over the edge. The Ichigo-look-alike looked up at him, glaring in an Ichigo-like way. He was actually shocked. The more he looked, the more the guy looked like Ichigo. The hair, the bright burning amber eyes, the scowl. Everything. He promptly sat down, and without warning grabbed the guy and kissed him.

The guy tasted a little sweeter than Ichigo, but his lips were just as soft, just as willing to give into him. His hands combed through his hair the same way Ichigo's slim fingers would have. and he emitted the same soft noises of pleasure the same way Ichigo's steady voice would have. For a moment he was content in just gently kissing, pretending that this was Ichigo. He let himself fly away from painful reality, his hand clutching a slim waist.

When they parted, bronze eyes looked dazed, and kiss swollen lips smiled gently. "Still thinking of that boyfriend?" He smirked.

"You look like him." they sat in silence again, and he stuck the reed of his forgotten sax into his mouth to moisten it again. It wasn't exactly an awkward silence. There was something being said to him, he just didn't realize it.

"Play for me again. I liked your music." he cast a glance at the boy he'd just so willingly kissed. He grinned. They sat together under growing dusk and cool jazz music, keeping beat on air. It brought him back to where he needed to be, and somehow he figured out the silent things his Ichigo-look-alike had been trying to tell him.

They shared another kiss and 'Ichigo' glanced at his watch, eyes widening. "I gotta go." he got up, stepping away from the ledge and turning to leave. He grabbed the lightly tanned hand. There was a stark contrast against his own pale skin.

"Will you be here, tomorrow?" he asked kind of desperately, because he'd finally found someone almost as good as his Ichigo, and he didn't want to let go. 'Ichigo' smiled and nodded, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and leaving through the door.

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From a building a little farther from where the Sax Player sat, he watched and grinned, listening to the fiery jazz music that had been deemed important enough to remain. It brightened the last rays of the sunset that burned the heavens.

Big white wings spread, catching the night and the day and the twinkling starlight in the feathers. A happy smile brightened as he watched the musician move from the roof to go home. Flapping great wings, the angel ascended, flying higher and higher.

"Take care of yourself, Shiro." it was a soft meaningful message carried on the wind like a blown kiss.

OWARI

hee hee hee. To tell you the truth, I hate how I wrote this. But I hope you enjoyed. Review please!