Warning: Shounen-Ai, Feels= butchering Gintama from being a gag show
Disclaimer: I'm not a gorilla. 'nuff said.
Birthdays? I don't care.
Not there.
No matter how hard he looked, that warm body is not there.
Groggily, he rubbed away his bleary eyes. Where are you?
Dimmed sunlight filtered through the paper door. The cloud gathered to share its' sadness.
He shook away the fatigue and cry at the empty air. You promised you'd stay with me… Where are you?
Scanning his surrounding, the alarmed figure spotted the half-turned calendar.
26th of May…
Your birthday, he noted to himself. What a quaint day to wake up without you, he thought, noticing the prominent difference in his room.
Outside, the rain started to patter…
He had always reminisce on this day of a different life he could have led, a different future filled with different opportunities and a different form of happiness he could have experienced but had always quashed the thought because he had chosen without regret, and the day would usually be spent in simple celebration together.
Such joyous day leave little room to reminisce, someone once said.
Where are you?
He longed for that smile that he would spot upon pale face, the crooks of the mouth would crease into a bright smile whilst the corner of the eyes would fill with a much more joyous peal of laughter.
You promised me…
The day of their marriage was a happy one. The shouts and cheers of congratulations echoed throughout the hall, he could not help but smile at the thought that she is his.
Don't leave me…
I love you too, she had said, deciphering the meaning behind his desperate words. White, sterile sheets. White, bleached walls. White, long tubes. Why… why is it that only droplets of red-like blood painted upon her lips? Upon her open palms, staining upon the white sheet…
Stop it!
The rain pound harder upon the wooden porch…
He could not tell if the memory is from a dream or if he is yet to be awake. This is his room. This is his table. This is his mug. That is her mug. That is their calendar…
26th of May.
It is the 26th of May and she is not here. The rainy season has just started and he wondered why she is not by his side in this wet, damp and depressing weather. He had already bought her the newest type of chilli hot chocolate she liked so much. Wrapped in shiny wrapping paper and tied with red ribbons, it looked so girly he had blushed in front of the store clerk. He left the humiliating store, the parcel in arms; his white knuckles gripped it tightly, securely, safely, … lovingly. A noise broke him out of his reverie.
There was a clatter from the kitchen. He waited for a while, expecting for her endearing face to peek in, waiting for her to bring in two bowls of soup, a bottle of mayonnaise and a bottle of chilli pepper. Their favourite meal for this snarky weather.
But nothing happened.
The kitchen is empty and dusty; it showed no signs of having been used for a long time. The scent of damp wood and sweet rain fill the room that should have been their bedroom; should have been filled with the smell of life and laughter. He longs for her warmth in the chilly cold that soak into his bones.
After wandering the ghostly hall, he returned to the room –or what might have been their bedroom-, stares at the calendar behind the low table, behind the mugs, on the tatami mats, listening to the drumming of rain…
Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?
Like a rabbit that will die of loneliness, he stared longingly at the calendar, at her mug, back and forth, and he gaze at the two in turn as he press his left cheek on the cool wood, gradually closing his eyes to savour the faint scent wafted from the coffee-stained table. He feels the need for his comfort cigarette but restrained for he already can hear an illusionary scolding from her, -conjured by his memory-, bringing a twitch of a smile to his lips.
The persistent rumble of rain lulled him to sleep.
To a dream that will take him to her.
Or to wake up from the memory of her.
Not there.
No matter how hard he looked, that warm body is not there.
Groggily, he rubbed away his bleary eyes. Where am I? Where are you?
He shook away the fatigue to cry at the empty air. No, not again… Not again.
Scanning his surrounding, the alarmed figure spotted the half-turned calendar.
5th of May…
My birthday, he thought.
He could still feel the warmth emanating from the soft futon they shared. Outside, the gloom thrum of the rain has been exchanged with the chirp of the early birds, of noisy crickets and cicadas signalling the end of humid summer.
Where am I?
To the house and the rooms that he had wandered in before, this plain room is much foreign yet much closely familiar to him. The same tatami mat. The same wooden low table. The same calendar. The same mugs. His mug and his mug…
Where is he?
Once again he searched for another. This time he flusters as he softly chanted his mantra of not again's. Worry, anxiety, insecurity. The emotions flood his heart even though the mind had logically reasoned.
Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?
Stumbling out of the futon to search for the owner of the recently warm sheet next to him, he was about to open the sliding door before white and blue covered his vision.
The silver perm had brought in a cake into the room and the man himself had proudly bragged that he made it himself.
He could care less.
Attacking the surprised figure, he deeply inhales the scent of intermingling sweat and sweet in their embrace.
Thank God.
Hijikata may not be a believer, but to whatever almighty power is present, he is grateful for this moment.
Grateful that he is by his side.
A/N:Uh... this made Hijikata looks so needy but oh well, it's justified. He had a nightmare (or a vision?) that threw his discomposure away, so he can be needy. Btw, I know it's too early to write about his birthday but I wanna procrastinate from doing my assignment and this is the only thing I could come up with so... take it or leave it but review! :D