|Marui Bunta 2/10
||[May. 9th, 2007|05:53 pm]
Title: The Scent of Failed Forgetfulness
Word Count: 570
Prompt: Quote # 12 - For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories
Notes: From Niou's POV.
Even for weeks after they broke up, Niou could still smell Marui, stickily sweet, in the hollows of his palms. He'd pass by a convenience store for an after-school snack and be hit by the smell of apples and sugar. Worse was, sometimes he could even taste Marui in his mouth, no matter how many times he brushed.
Worst was when he didn't want to get the taste of Marui out of his mouth anymore, when he lay in bed and smelled his palms, and thought of hot summer days and Marui's skin turning almost the same shade as his hair.
He still had a couple of Marui's shirts from the times the other boy had slept over. The shirts had been laundered, put in plastic bags ready to be returned, but then he and Marui'd had their infamous little tiff that resulted in a parting of the ways, and now Marui's shirts sat, unreturned, in his bottom drawer.
Sometimes, when his parents were gone and his father's vodka looked good in glasses and felt even better burning down his throat, he'd take out one of the shirts, the blue one with the collar and the red star in front, and press it against his nose, inhaling until he got past the sterile detergent scent that supposedly smelled like spring flowers but smelled more like soap, until he could almost detect something else. Something else that smelled more familiar than any cloying spring flowers ever would.
During practice, he and Marui avoid each other with the curious dancing motion of those trying to act normally. A step forward here, a step back there... once Niou and Marui had found themselves face to face. Smiling and popping his gum, Marui stepped to his left as Niou stepped to his right, too set in his trickster ways to do otherwise. Marui laughed and touched Niou for the first time since their break-up, a small hand to Niou's rib, pushing him to make space. Niou then realized that they were not acting normally; if this were a normal situation from before their break-up, Marui'd be pinned against the wall and there would be kissing, and afterwards there would be laps to run, because Sanada was actually God and he knew everything, especially stuff that went on behind the locker room.
Marui uses this shampoo that's made for kids; it's bubblegum scented and bright blue. Niou knows this because he and Marui share a locker room and used to take baths together, and Niou always enjoyed the contrast of Marui's pink hair to the electric blue of the shampoo. Niou knows the scent intimately, since the hair was almost always pressed under his nose when they snuggled together in his bed, so Niou spent the better part of most nights breathing in bubblegum scented air. Niou knows the scent even better now, since his little brother started using it. Now everytime he baby-sits he thinks of Marui and contrast and bed.
Niou knows this is the natural part of any unresolved break-up, this longing; at least he hopes so, because if it isn't then he is just pathetic and inexcuseable. He knows Yagyuu is waiting; Yagyuu of the cultured tastes and who smells faintly like mown grass and men's cologne, but he doesn't know how to stop. He is currently living in an ocean of scent and the waves all remind him of Marui.