6-17-2001

Disclaimers- What belongs to me belongs to me. What doesn't, doesn't. I never claimed it did. Wished? Certainly. But never claimed.

Pairings- 1+2/1x2x1, 3+4, R+D, 5+S, 5xM (am I traditional or what? though I actually prefer R+H to R+D)

Warnings- crossover (sort of), shounen-ai, yaoi?, shoujo-ai, weirdness

Notes- I haven't posted in forever, and as a result, I'm sure you have all forgotten about this >.< If you looked at in the first place.... so I'll link to the DHML (where it is archived, duh) for your convenience. http://members.spree.com/entertainment/DuoMaxwell39/dhml/fics.html *bows low* the first two parts are there, under Naraku And they're short, so... >< No more self-promotion for you, Nara! *baps self*

Additional Notes- This is a crossover/fusion. But it's allllll mine!! whahaha!! Well, actually, my best friend and mine's, but the original story concept was mine, all mine. We're doing a manga similar to, but not exactly like this. She draws, (cause she's better ><) and I write and motivate. A regular two-person CLAMP, ne? Not exactly. But it's nice to dream. In any case, it's about the only semi-interesting thing I've ever come up with, so I figure, what the hey, I might as well recycle it. ^_^ And to make it even better, it's Lil*Shi-chan's! Cause it was her birthday soon when I started writing...

Extra Additional Notes- And the title, well, it doesn't belong to me. I got it from somewhere. Do you know where? If you do, I'll write you a fic or draw you something. Whichever terrifies you less. Yes. Anyway... (good lord, are you still reading?!)

Happy B-day Lil*Shinigami! (even thought it was your birthday a long time ago >.<;;;)

 

And the Way it Leaves Them

 

The first few rays of sunlight fell delicately on the ruined apartment. With no walls to keep it out, it was free to dance wherever it pleased. It slowly crept along the ground, and slowly illuminated a still hand.

The hand was attached to an arm sticking out from under an overturned end table. Several strands of dirty, dusty blonde hair also lay near, along with a few tatters of black cloth. Not to mention the entire contents of an average single girl's city apartment strewn carelessly about the hardwood floor. Or what used to be a hardwood floor.

The hand moved slowly, and after a moment, the table lifted up from the floor slightly. An extremely disheveled -to understate things- girl crawled from underneath the tabletop and lay on the floor for a long while. Her short black dress was in tatters, barely if at all covering what would normally be the necessary parts. If she had the will to care, it surely would have bothered her sense of decency.

As it was, she lay face down on the ruined floor, not noticing about the world around her. Her hair was matted with a dry, dark, brownish red substance, and her left leg wasn't lying quite right in relation to her hips.

When several hours had passed of her lying on the floor in various states of consciousness, she tried to get up. The blood rushed to her head and she fell down again. After a good long while spent recovering from her first attempt, she tried again. Slower.

She propped her upper body up with her elbows first, then sat up, cradling her head carefully against anything that would support it. After the nearly unbearable pounding in her brain had subsided slightly, she finally raised her eyes and took a look around her former apartment.

A small breeze was wafting in from the gaping whole in the side of her apartment. But it wasn't just her own. She could see over into most of the next dwelling. She noticed were two young men occupying the space. One she didn't recognize, and the other she couldn't see well enough to identify. The boy she couldn't see easily was obviously unconscious or dead, but the other was walking around in a daze. Dimly, she hoped he wouldn't accidentally walk off the edge of the building. Looking up, she could see part of the next floor above her, and a suspiciously reddened arm hanging off the side. Above even that, the building was fairly intact, or as intact as a building could be with a huge chunk of it missing. She knew she'd have to get out as soon as possible. She couldn't see to the floor below from the angle she was looking, but judging from the rather large piece of hardwood flooring she was missing, she assumed she would have a fairly good view.

After looking in all directions, she decided to survey the damage to her own apartment. Dorothy slowly turned her head towards her one completely remaining wall. Her clothes and books and electronics and everything were everywhere. Not one thing was still whole. She felt her headache come back with revenge. Everything she owned. Destroyed. How could she have not foreseen this? After last night, it seemed perfectly obvious that something like this would happen. She sighed and shook her head, then immediately regretted it. Anyway, she couldn't have known; she couldn't have taken precaution. She-

There was a leg in the corner of the room.

Dorothy leaned over and emptied her stomach onto the dusty floor until she was dry heaving, and she couldn't seem to stop. The tears ran down her cheeks as her throat emitted strange choking noises that she had never before heard herself make. She couldn't get it out of her mind. She wouldn't be okay ever again, she thought to herself. Every night as she tried to go to sleep, she would see this, and she would start retching all over again. He had broken into her apartment, yes, but he didn't deserve to die! There was no way a person could spend an entire night missing a leg and not bleed to death.

She did not want to see the rest of the body.

"Are you okay?" the conscious boy in the next apartment called to her.

"No!" she sobbed. She wanted to say more, but it wouldn't come out.

"Do you want me to come over there? Do you know what happened?"

She cried and sobbed for a good twenty minutes before being able to talk. "No- d- don't come over here. It's- oh God!" She bent over and began her dry heaves all over again, the bile burning the back of her throat. Once she calmed down again, she called, "And no- I don't know wha- what happened." She cried miserably.

"Can you come over here, then? The hall's still intact, I think."

He was so calm. She looked up into his piercing green eyes, past the fall of auburn hair down one side of his face. His whole look, demeanor, everything about him was very exotic, but it was as though none of this had affected him at all. His eyes didn't show any fear or remorse, and they seemed to pierce and take in every detail. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she tried to cover herself with the remains of her dress. "O- okay." She stood up slowly with the help of her end table, being careful not to step in any of her blood or bile (She grimaced at the morbid alliteration). Discovering that she still had one pump on, she gently toed it off, only to cringe at the sight of her foot. She was sure it must be better than it looked for having spent the entire night trapped in the shoe, but as it was, she could hardly distinguish between he toes.

Her hip was definitely dislocated, so, remembering her limited medical classes, she gritted her teeth and slid it back into place with a high-pitched shriek. She then grabbed a broken table leg (her beautiful, ornate, mahogany table!) and used it as a crutch to help her on her difficult way to the next apartment over.

In all actuality, she was still amazed at how few injuries she had gotten. Especially considering the other- She resolved not to think about the man.