How Did We Let This House Fall Apart? {Kirito + Ikaia}
Jan 16, 2016 21:17:43 GMT -5
Post by Arrows on Jan 16, 2016 21:17:43 GMT -5
A storm whipped and tore across the darkened landscape as the scream of the howling wind sent shrills of pain through Kirito. However the storm that now battered admist the raging shadows of hellish memories was not the storm the sent snowflakes swirling through the outside air. The storm was deep with the catacombs of Kirito's heart as his foundations rattled and cracked just as they had been doing for the last two years. One after one the columns upholding the surge of life in his heart were crumbling from the lashes of sorrow that were bred from Kirito's own discontent. Life had been dealt to him upon a platinum and diamond studded platter but the life he was given with a crown was not the one he was initially served. He was uplifted from poverty by the scarlet crusade of blood that was the Hunger Games, but now he was drowning once more in the pain of loss far beyond that of just the deaths he carried on beside his own. With this new life he has lost the strength that he cherished in his old one. With this life he had lost the heart that beat so closely to his own. With this life Kirito Miristioma was an only child.
Pain pierced Kirito's chest with every beat his heart took. From the warmth of his bedroom he watched winter whirl across the district as another foot of snow buried the ground below it. Just from his position perched beside his frosted window Kirito felt ice creeping through his veins. Yet worst of all he felt his body shaking not from the cold but the thought of Ikaia left freezing in their old home. Memories of the past winters Kirito spent within the walls of that broken building were nearly too horrible to believe. The smell of rotting food and the feeling of total desolation in the form of man eating frost. The sound of chattering teeth mixed with the wheezing of sickly breathing. Winter was always hell in that house even when Kirito and Ikaia were so closely pressed together. Yet now Kirito knew far too well that people always bond the closest when on the precipice of death's grasp.
Just across the Victor's Village Kirito could see Navya working away in Harbinger's kitchen undoubtedly preparing dinner. Kirito's own stomach growled with the desire for food and he couldn't help but feel his jaw clench more at the thought of Ikaia starving. Kirito's nails dug harshly into the wood sill of the frost kissed window as a mixture of emotions rippled through his mind. No matter what Kirito knew he would always care for Ikaia but he didn't realize just how much he still did after what Ikaia had done. Sparks of anger seared Kirito's thoughts of how useless his brother's apology had been before he left to mentor just six months earlier. Kirito actually believed that there was hope at rekindling what was lost in the burning flames of the Seventieth Games, but alas after that moment Kirito didn't see Ikaia again except for minutes at a time. Of all the people to turn their back from him Kirito never would have selected his twin, alas Kirito never was good at keeping people to like him with the exceptions of Navya, Katelyn, and his Ma. As for other victors besides Katelyn Kirito truly hadn't the faintest idea. Still even though Kirito felt completely pushed away from Ikaia he worried.
A sigh slipped out from Kirito's lips staining the window in a moist coat of steam for several seconds. Kirito slowly made his way down to the kitchen where he began to gather several cooking ingredients he knew all too well, ingredients Capitolites would never dare use in their luxurious cuisine. Gently Kirito filled a pot with cheap beans , several pieces of carrots, rice, several cut pieces of potato, and a bit of a gravy-like substance he spent several minutes making. Then once that was finished he the pot atop one of his lit stove panels to let it cook and simmer. Once again Kirito's mind drifted to the winters of his past as the rather bland smell lifted into his nose.
"Kirito! Hey Kirito!" Ikaia called excitedly as he stumbled half covered in freezing snow through the make shift kitchen. "Look I got all the stuff ya asked me to get!" Smiling weakly Kirito turned from the rusted pot he had simmering over the ashy fire to take the supplies Ikaia had collected in a small straw knapsack. "Perfect, now I can make us an' Ma an actual dinner. Now go sit by the fire before ya freeze to death." Kirito said softly with a laugh as he prepared all the gathered ingredients before setting them within the pot.
A tear rolled down Kirito's cheek as the memory faded. Shakily Kirito wiped the water from his eye away as he loaded a large bowl with the stew he had made. Once all the brown thick liquid had filled the bowl he sealed it with a plastic top and set the bowl within a large picnic basket he had in the closet. Kirito felt his body stiffen with nerves as he carried the heavy basket to the front door. Gently Kirito set the basket down beside the door as he pulled his thick grey sweatshirt and black scarf on. Kirito could feel even his hands shaking harshly from the fear that riddled his every cell. In fact, Kirito nearly turned and ran right back up to his room, that was until he noticed his Ma just stepping off the last stair.
Kirito felt the tears begin to flood his eyes as Ma looked from the basket to him with a look acknowledging that she knew what he was about to do. Then in a single moment Kirito buried himself into Ma's embrace as she ran her handle gently through his hair. Sobs echoed through the house as she simple let Kirito cry within her embrace until there were no more tears for him to shed. Once silence returned to their home Ma gently pulled Kirito's face before her own as she wiped the tears away from his eyes.
"I had a feelin' I smelt that stew. Now go out there and see your brother. You have already fought through so much in your life and now maybe this can be your final battle. Go out there finish the Seventieth Hunger Games once and for all in this family."
Then without another single word or sound she turned and walked back up the stairs leaving Kirito with a sort of calm in his chest. Although he wanted to tell Ma how the Games would never be over for him in his mind he realized she already knew that. All Ma wanted was exactly what he wanted, he wanted all the rifts caused in the family by his victory to finally be finished. And for once, Kirito believed he was truly ready to finish it. So with one last moment of warmth Kirito picked up the basket and pushed his way out into the falling snow.
Beneath his feet Kirito could feel the snow dipping as he continuously trudged onward through the icy world. Snow flakes stuck like make up to Kirito's eye lashes and he constantly forced himself to stop for a second just to clear the chilling snow off his face. Luckily Kirito reached his old street in good time as he slowly marched past shack after shack until finally he stopped before the last one on the street. Even through the falling flakes of snow Kirito could see the dim flickering of a fire and the unmistakable wisps of smoke barreling out from the pathetic chimney. At one point in Kirito's life this very shack was his home, yet now it was the home of a long lost spirit.
Sorrow picked away at Kirito's gut as fear once again took hold of his body. Kirito stood frozen just outside the thinly walled house he knew was probably just slightly less cold on the inside. Never once in Kirito's life had he paused before this very door, however now he stood exactly that undecided whether to knock or to just enter. Alas, after thinking about it for several freezing seconds Kirito remembered that in the end it was the house of the Miristiomas and he was a Miristioma no matter what crowns sat upon his head. So with a mind and heart full of confusion he pushed the door open just enough for him to squeeze through before shutting it swiftly behind him.
Once within the practically two roomed house Kirito could see Ikaia shuddering next to the fire unaware of Kirito's presence yet. Kirito could hear his heart thundering in his chest as he desperately searched with the words to say and the actions to do. Until finally as straight faced and calmly as he could Kirito walked over to the make shift Kitchen and placed the basket on the small table with a light thud. It was then that Ikaia's eyes were staring straight towards Kirito entranced with the flames of the ashy fire.
Holding Ikaia's gaze with his own Kirito spoke in a light voice just barely louder than a whisper. "I made some stew just like the stew I use to make during this time of year. Its exactly the same no extra seasonings, no extra anything. I figured you could use something to eat since I know crops don't grow right now."
Kirito felt his body weight shifting awkwardly between both of his feet as his thumbs twiddled endlessly around one another. A question, more like a plea, stuck to the tip of Kirito's tongue as all the thoughts of Ikaia's distance ran through his mind. Grief and anger purged Kirito's chest as he continued to hold his brother's stare. Kirito knew there was no more running from any of it. There was no more bloody battles. This was it. Kirito was ready to know whether he was truly an only child or if his twin still possessed a heart Kirito had not seen beat in far too long a time.
"Listen Ikaia..." Kirito's voice cut off as he felt his control over his emotions stumble just barely. "I want you to come and stay at our house in the Victor's Village just until spring and most of the snow stops. Ma and I spend every single second we have worrying about you since we know what winter is like in this place. We just want you to be safe now that we have the option to be. And I know this place and winter here is like our past but Ikaia you can't keep living in the past. You can't keep running away from reality. I know you never wanted things to change and neither did I but things have one way or another. I killed others my age, I broke down mentally, and when I came back broken you weren't there to help rebuild me. The one person I wanted to see more than anyone else when I got home only saw me several times before coming back to this place. It was in those actions I realized you would rather live in the past than live with a twin brother. If you choose to continue this life of never seeing me except for moments at a time with months in between then I won't have brother and neither will you. This is it Ikaia, this is all I have left. I am tired of fighting. I have already lived through enough fighting for one hundred life times. So I am asking you please to come stay with me for the winter and to go back to or at least start going back to being my brother, my twin. Or this is the last moment we ever will be. So please Ikaia... come back to me. I was born with a twin for a reason. I don't want to go on living as an only child."
As Kirito's voice shook off he forced himself not to start sobbing even though tears had begun falling down his face half way through his words. Kirito was terrified of the answer to come but in the end he needed to know. He needed to know if the games truly had killed off all that he was.
Pain pierced Kirito's chest with every beat his heart took. From the warmth of his bedroom he watched winter whirl across the district as another foot of snow buried the ground below it. Just from his position perched beside his frosted window Kirito felt ice creeping through his veins. Yet worst of all he felt his body shaking not from the cold but the thought of Ikaia left freezing in their old home. Memories of the past winters Kirito spent within the walls of that broken building were nearly too horrible to believe. The smell of rotting food and the feeling of total desolation in the form of man eating frost. The sound of chattering teeth mixed with the wheezing of sickly breathing. Winter was always hell in that house even when Kirito and Ikaia were so closely pressed together. Yet now Kirito knew far too well that people always bond the closest when on the precipice of death's grasp.
Just across the Victor's Village Kirito could see Navya working away in Harbinger's kitchen undoubtedly preparing dinner. Kirito's own stomach growled with the desire for food and he couldn't help but feel his jaw clench more at the thought of Ikaia starving. Kirito's nails dug harshly into the wood sill of the frost kissed window as a mixture of emotions rippled through his mind. No matter what Kirito knew he would always care for Ikaia but he didn't realize just how much he still did after what Ikaia had done. Sparks of anger seared Kirito's thoughts of how useless his brother's apology had been before he left to mentor just six months earlier. Kirito actually believed that there was hope at rekindling what was lost in the burning flames of the Seventieth Games, but alas after that moment Kirito didn't see Ikaia again except for minutes at a time. Of all the people to turn their back from him Kirito never would have selected his twin, alas Kirito never was good at keeping people to like him with the exceptions of Navya, Katelyn, and his Ma. As for other victors besides Katelyn Kirito truly hadn't the faintest idea. Still even though Kirito felt completely pushed away from Ikaia he worried.
A sigh slipped out from Kirito's lips staining the window in a moist coat of steam for several seconds. Kirito slowly made his way down to the kitchen where he began to gather several cooking ingredients he knew all too well, ingredients Capitolites would never dare use in their luxurious cuisine. Gently Kirito filled a pot with cheap beans , several pieces of carrots, rice, several cut pieces of potato, and a bit of a gravy-like substance he spent several minutes making. Then once that was finished he the pot atop one of his lit stove panels to let it cook and simmer. Once again Kirito's mind drifted to the winters of his past as the rather bland smell lifted into his nose.
"Kirito! Hey Kirito!" Ikaia called excitedly as he stumbled half covered in freezing snow through the make shift kitchen. "Look I got all the stuff ya asked me to get!" Smiling weakly Kirito turned from the rusted pot he had simmering over the ashy fire to take the supplies Ikaia had collected in a small straw knapsack. "Perfect, now I can make us an' Ma an actual dinner. Now go sit by the fire before ya freeze to death." Kirito said softly with a laugh as he prepared all the gathered ingredients before setting them within the pot.
A tear rolled down Kirito's cheek as the memory faded. Shakily Kirito wiped the water from his eye away as he loaded a large bowl with the stew he had made. Once all the brown thick liquid had filled the bowl he sealed it with a plastic top and set the bowl within a large picnic basket he had in the closet. Kirito felt his body stiffen with nerves as he carried the heavy basket to the front door. Gently Kirito set the basket down beside the door as he pulled his thick grey sweatshirt and black scarf on. Kirito could feel even his hands shaking harshly from the fear that riddled his every cell. In fact, Kirito nearly turned and ran right back up to his room, that was until he noticed his Ma just stepping off the last stair.
Kirito felt the tears begin to flood his eyes as Ma looked from the basket to him with a look acknowledging that she knew what he was about to do. Then in a single moment Kirito buried himself into Ma's embrace as she ran her handle gently through his hair. Sobs echoed through the house as she simple let Kirito cry within her embrace until there were no more tears for him to shed. Once silence returned to their home Ma gently pulled Kirito's face before her own as she wiped the tears away from his eyes.
"I had a feelin' I smelt that stew. Now go out there and see your brother. You have already fought through so much in your life and now maybe this can be your final battle. Go out there finish the Seventieth Hunger Games once and for all in this family."
Then without another single word or sound she turned and walked back up the stairs leaving Kirito with a sort of calm in his chest. Although he wanted to tell Ma how the Games would never be over for him in his mind he realized she already knew that. All Ma wanted was exactly what he wanted, he wanted all the rifts caused in the family by his victory to finally be finished. And for once, Kirito believed he was truly ready to finish it. So with one last moment of warmth Kirito picked up the basket and pushed his way out into the falling snow.
Beneath his feet Kirito could feel the snow dipping as he continuously trudged onward through the icy world. Snow flakes stuck like make up to Kirito's eye lashes and he constantly forced himself to stop for a second just to clear the chilling snow off his face. Luckily Kirito reached his old street in good time as he slowly marched past shack after shack until finally he stopped before the last one on the street. Even through the falling flakes of snow Kirito could see the dim flickering of a fire and the unmistakable wisps of smoke barreling out from the pathetic chimney. At one point in Kirito's life this very shack was his home, yet now it was the home of a long lost spirit.
Sorrow picked away at Kirito's gut as fear once again took hold of his body. Kirito stood frozen just outside the thinly walled house he knew was probably just slightly less cold on the inside. Never once in Kirito's life had he paused before this very door, however now he stood exactly that undecided whether to knock or to just enter. Alas, after thinking about it for several freezing seconds Kirito remembered that in the end it was the house of the Miristiomas and he was a Miristioma no matter what crowns sat upon his head. So with a mind and heart full of confusion he pushed the door open just enough for him to squeeze through before shutting it swiftly behind him.
Once within the practically two roomed house Kirito could see Ikaia shuddering next to the fire unaware of Kirito's presence yet. Kirito could hear his heart thundering in his chest as he desperately searched with the words to say and the actions to do. Until finally as straight faced and calmly as he could Kirito walked over to the make shift Kitchen and placed the basket on the small table with a light thud. It was then that Ikaia's eyes were staring straight towards Kirito entranced with the flames of the ashy fire.
Holding Ikaia's gaze with his own Kirito spoke in a light voice just barely louder than a whisper. "I made some stew just like the stew I use to make during this time of year. Its exactly the same no extra seasonings, no extra anything. I figured you could use something to eat since I know crops don't grow right now."
Kirito felt his body weight shifting awkwardly between both of his feet as his thumbs twiddled endlessly around one another. A question, more like a plea, stuck to the tip of Kirito's tongue as all the thoughts of Ikaia's distance ran through his mind. Grief and anger purged Kirito's chest as he continued to hold his brother's stare. Kirito knew there was no more running from any of it. There was no more bloody battles. This was it. Kirito was ready to know whether he was truly an only child or if his twin still possessed a heart Kirito had not seen beat in far too long a time.
"Listen Ikaia..." Kirito's voice cut off as he felt his control over his emotions stumble just barely. "I want you to come and stay at our house in the Victor's Village just until spring and most of the snow stops. Ma and I spend every single second we have worrying about you since we know what winter is like in this place. We just want you to be safe now that we have the option to be. And I know this place and winter here is like our past but Ikaia you can't keep living in the past. You can't keep running away from reality. I know you never wanted things to change and neither did I but things have one way or another. I killed others my age, I broke down mentally, and when I came back broken you weren't there to help rebuild me. The one person I wanted to see more than anyone else when I got home only saw me several times before coming back to this place. It was in those actions I realized you would rather live in the past than live with a twin brother. If you choose to continue this life of never seeing me except for moments at a time with months in between then I won't have brother and neither will you. This is it Ikaia, this is all I have left. I am tired of fighting. I have already lived through enough fighting for one hundred life times. So I am asking you please to come stay with me for the winter and to go back to or at least start going back to being my brother, my twin. Or this is the last moment we ever will be. So please Ikaia... come back to me. I was born with a twin for a reason. I don't want to go on living as an only child."
As Kirito's voice shook off he forced himself not to start sobbing even though tears had begun falling down his face half way through his words. Kirito was terrified of the answer to come but in the end he needed to know. He needed to know if the games truly had killed off all that he was.
Kirito Miristioma
Victor Of The Seventieth Hunger Games
Victor Of The Seventieth Hunger Games
