Work Text:
Pain can be absolutely different.
From physical, all the way to emotional.
You can inflict it on yourself, or you can accidentally plunge into it, with no way to get out. But the master of lightning didn't choose such an outcome. "She" decided everything for him, and the promised suffering followed then.
Conversations with glasses of water, portraits, long stares at the ocean, knowing in advance that no answer would come. Clinging to every little thing, continuous attempts to gasp for even a drop of air—all proved to be failures.
Squeezing his lungs, as if suffocating, grief clawed from within, not letting old wounds heal, leaving fresh and deep cuts. They stung and tickled, burned and pricked. Yes, not the most pleasant of sensations. Jay was ready to give up, to end it all, to forget, to renounce this burden. But even stronger was the desire to once again behold that ardent gaze, with the small mole under the left eye. That hair, the color of pitch, with a scent like sakura in its blooming season.
No, no, no... He couldn't afford to "giving up on her." She saved him, sacrificed herself for hundreds, thousands, millions. Sacrificed herself for him... Everyone forgot, but he will never forget. He simply can't. That brief kiss, and a farewell one at that. Couldn't anything have been done? Why did no one do anything?! Why doesn't anyone care?!
Why is he enduring all this alone? No, he's not alone. The unfinished portraits, the glasses of water. Just him, and the sound of the waves. The perfect place for daily meetings, isn't it?
...
The morning rays faintly broke through the thin curtains.
A light wind blew over his bare shoulders, which were sticking out from under the blanket, making him squint and cover his head.
It had been a long time since he had felt so peaceful. A warm bed, a soft sheet, and most importantly, another body next to him. So warm, so tender... It made him want to press closer. Nuzzling his nose into the girl's neck, the guy gently moved strands of her long hair, tossing them over the brunette's shoulders. In a half-asleep state, he kissed her neck, back, and collarbones, leaving red marks. Breathing right into Nya's ear, he caused her to wake up from these actions.
Wincing and curling up tighter, the girl covered herself with the blanket and moved further away.
–That tickles, stop...
Smiling, the guy pulled his Yang even closer to him. Despite his beloved's protests, he let his hands wander much lower. With barely noticeable movements, he traced her waist, moving down to her hips, and then, with his free hand, grabbing the girl's stomach.
–Jaaay... Calm down, please...
Pushing him, she gave him a very weak poke with her foot.
Turning to face her beloved, with her eyes still mostly closed, she fumbled for a moment before tracing the back of her hand along the guy's cheek. After lightly pinching his cheeks, the brunette pressed her naked body closer to his, simultaneously leaving light touches of her lips on his cheekbones, Adam's apple, neck, and forehead.
Her naked body didn't embarrass him in the slightest; he loved to touch her soft shoulders, kneading them a little in his palms without applying any force. To stroke her back, as if it were velvet.
He wished this cycle of touches would last much longer—preferably, never end at all.
Savoring the pleasure, the guy could only manage to hum quietly in response to her kisses.
Stopping abruptly, Nya ran her hand through the guy's curls. She absolutely adored them... And his conditioner was intoxicating with its scent. Gazing at and kissing every single one of his freckles was part of her daily needs. Taking a deeper breath, she rested her head on his chest.
Wrapping his arms around the girl's broad shoulders, Jay exhaled with relief. Were the nightmares over? Had he dreamt it all, and was he now once again basking in the embrace of the most precious person to him?
– I've missed you so much... I'm so happy it was all a dream.
Pulling away from him, the water master's gaze grew much colder, and her touches became painful.
–Are you sure it was a dream?
–Are you sure it was a dream?
–Are you sure it was a dream?
–Are you sure it was a dream?
–Are you sure it was a dream?
The question echoed in his ears, creating an unpleasant ringing. His head began to ache, and his body started to tremble.
The girl's eyes lost their shine, and the background blurred. The silhouette in his arms began to slowly dissolve.
–What?... Well, I don't...!!
That phrase was immediately followed by an abrupt darkness. A dead silence. As if he had uttered some forbidden word. All around was a vast space, an emptiness.
Opening his eyes, a wave of goosebumps and cold washed over his skin.
– Nya! Nya, where are you! Nya...
Nervously, as if in a panic, the guy scanned the entire space, but it was endless. It had no beginning and no end. Completely disoriented, his eyes searched for the slightest chance of salvation.
He saw no boundaries, yet it was becoming constricting. Water filled his lungs, and his nose was blocked. His movements slowed drastically—was he underwater? But where was the surface? Not a single glimmer of light, not one ray of sun. His limbs were seizing up, and breathing was becoming more and more difficult.
He was sinking lower, and lower, and lower...
His eyes were heavy, and he no longer had the strength to fight. He had surrendered; this was his fate. Perhaps this was the only way he could reunite with her? To sink to the very bottom and wait submissively for her return.
A sudden surge of energy pulled him toward the surface, followed by a bright flash of light and the faint, distant singing of whales. Was it her? Could it really be her?! Nya, Nya, Nya! Is that you?! Answer me, please, answer me...
Gripping her slender wrist with a death-like hold, he pulled her closer. He knew that if he let go, he would never be able to touch her or be heard by her again.
–Jay, you're hurting me.
Gasping from the sudden rush of oxygen, he rubbed his temples and looked around. The lighthouse he knew so well hadn't changed a bit. The thin blanket, the hard mattress, a mountain of water glasses on the nightstand, the table, the chairs, and the floor. Portraits and paints scattered across the room, an unfinished dinner—if instant noodles could even be called that.
He had woken up again, and again from a nightmare. For nearly a year now, he had been falling for these blissful dreams, and he didn't regret a single moment spent with her. Even fleeting hallucinations allowed him to see her. Wasn't he lucky? "It’s a sign that one day, he will see her again." That’s what he thought. He dreamed and believed, but all in vain.
He had become obsessed with her, obsessed with the idea of meeting her once more. Was this not love? To wait for one's destiny even after she had vanished, to blindly follow every lead.
Years would pass, and he would remain, waiting humbly for her at the forgotten lighthouse.