Work Text:
Kurosaki Ranmaru was walking the snowy city streets, not looking around and without actual knowledge of where to go. There was anger mixed with pain and despair in his heterochromic eyes, and his firm steps were making the snow creak. He was holding a glass of whiskey in his hand: maybe for warmth, or maybe for forgetting everything that happened today.
"Fuck it!" He shouted furiously, squeezing the glass so it almost had broken.
Today his career came to an unexpected and tragic end: the vocalist of Kurosaki's band, in which he played the bass, got hit by the car and died immediately. There were rumours that this incident was rigged by certain enviers of the talented singer, but nothing could be proofed. Other members decided to disband because they understood that no one else could replace their charismatic and ambitious leader who managed to gather so many different people together.
Ranmaru refused to believe that his dear friend was no longer existed. "He couldn't die!" Kurosaki thought before he was given a photo from the tragical accident: there was bleeding body of the young singer hit by an expensive silver-coloured car. When Ranmaru saw it, he had lost all his feelings for a moment; his mind had completely went blank. After recovering from the shock he furiously grabbed the photo and torn it into small pieces. "Fucking bourgeois!" He shouted. Frinds tried to calm him down, but it was unsuccessful. The musician quickly leaved them without saying goodbye, and now he was really regretting about it because they might never meet each other again.
"Hate it, hate it! I hate them so much!" Kurosaki splashed some more golden drink in his mouth. It burnt the throat immediately, but he didn't care at all.
"Fucking smug rich! Why do they think too fucking much of themselves and make innocent people suffer?!" Ranmaru shouted scornfully and threw the glass on the ground, making it break into thousands small pieces. Suddenly Kurosaki heard someone's quiet, but sweet and melodious voice.
"What happened?" The man quickly turned around. A girl with long purple hair and green eyes, which were sparkling under the street lights, was standing in front of him. The girl smiled softly and held Ranmaru's hand.
"What happened? You can tell me."
"Leave me alone. Everything's OK." Ranmaru tried to free his hand, but the girl was holding it firmly. "She's so small, but so strong!" He thought immediately.
"Don't lie. You can't just break glasses like this." Her voice was gentle, but firm and confident. She looked directly into his heterochromic eyes, like she was trying to see his soul. Kurosaki looked away.
"I-it's not your fucking business." He said with a hesitation in voice. His cheeks blushed: maybe from cold, or maybe from confusion.
"Maybe. But if you talk about it, you'll be better." She said with the same calm and confident voice. Ranmaru chuckled unhappily.
"Do you really want to hear that?"
"I'm ready for everything." She said seriously. The musician sighed heavily and told her his story. At the beginning of it he was talking calmly, but at the end his voice became shaking and eyes were sparkling because of unshed tears. The girl had noticed it.
"I understand, you're feeling really bad now. The death of a close friend is always very painful..." She said thoughtfully and hugged Ranmaru.
At this moment Kurosaki had completely lost control of his emotions and released the tears. Hot salty water was burning his eyes and cheeks. The girl just hugged him tighter and patted his back. They were standing this way for about five minutes. When Ranmaru finished crying, the girl gently held his hand and whispered:
"Are you feeling better now?"
"Kinda."
"I completely understand your feelings. Recently I have been crying like this a lot." The girl chuckled and wiped away the unwanted tear.
"And what's wrong with you?" Ranmaru asked quietly.
"My friend has died from cancer." She answered calmly. "She had been fighting it for two years. In a last few days she was feeling very, very bad. I knew that she wouldn't live long, but when I was said that she had died, I had been in prostration for two days and I didn't want to do anything. And after her funeral my senses returned and I was crying every single minute... But then I realised that nasty ilness had completely worn her out, so she really needed rest. There couldn't be any other end. And with these thoughts I completely let her go. I hope that know she's happy there, in heaven..."
Ranmaru was totally confused because of this soulful monologue. No other girls had ever told him about their problems so freely. What was he supposed to do? Cheer her up? Hug her? Or maybe kiss her? He quickly became embarassed because of the last thought. How could he, a brutal rock-musician, come to such a gentle thought?..
In the end he just carefully took her hand. The girl smiled softly and raised her head to the sky.
"Look, it's very beautiful here!" She whispered in admiration. Ranmaru also looked at the sky. There was an absolutely amusing sight: the dark blue sky was completely cleared from the dull heavy clouds and there were lots of stars and even the thin golden crescent on it! Everything was covered in a mysterious shine, and a magical feeling was in the air.
"That's true..." He answered, holding her hand tighter. They were standing together, holding hands, enjoying the beauty of the sky, and forgetting about the time and their troubles. It seemed that even winter frost had lessened a little.
Suddenly the girl stood on her tiptoes and quickly kissed the man in the cheek. He was taken aback by surprise.
"That's for farewell. Thanks for everything!" She widely smiled and walked away.
"Stop! It's me who should thank you!!!" Ranmaru shouted in her back, catching up with her. "And you haven't said your name!"
"It's Nozomi. Tojo Nozomi." The girl answered with the same mysterious smile.
"Kurosaki Ranmaru. Hope we'll meet again someday."
"Of course we will." Nozomi hid in the crowd. Ranmaru was looking after her for a few more seconds and after that he smiled happily and went home with a significantly improved mood. Kurosaki thought that he had never met before a more pleasant person yet.