Story: Fragments of Memories
Title: Fragments of Memories
Author: kage_no_kodoku
Rating: R
Warnings: implied sexual situations
Genre: angst, drama
Pairing: (Saga x Nao) + OC [ugh, looks like a math equation *facepalms*], vague hints of Tora x Nao [blink and you'll miss it]
Prompts: "Paint and Chocolate" and "The cruelest lies are often told without a word. The kindest truths are often spoke and never heard." (Ben Folds)
Summary: Red. It always reminded him of a moment, of an era long past. A time of when he would feel a tingling sensation course through his spine and spread through his whole body with just the simple enunciation of his name.
Disclaimer: Nothing more than a figment of my imagination, which is already faulty as it is... LJ cut taken from William Blake's "Auguries of Innocence."
Notes: Written for Alice in Fiction's Week 10 and Tragic Ennui's Prompt 16.
I'm being viciously attacked by writer's block... So yeah. (TAT)
Anyway, this story wouldn't read nearly as well as it is now if it weren't for my beta, jalela. However, the sixth to eighth segments are un-beta-ed, not to mention quite rushed and it sucks big time because I was writing while half-asleep at around 2 o'clock this morning. All grammatical mistakes and stylistic inconsistencies there are completely my fault.
Oh, I have to mention that "~*~" indicates alternating between the present and flashbacks, just for it to be clear.
***
He would always have a pack of M&M’s with him. Every time he goes on a pilgrimage to Akihabara, he would reach in his pocket and slip one into his mouth. He would suck on it to savour its sweetness; and whenever he was at Starbucks, he would dot his cake with colours. During tours, the scent of chocolate would fill the hotel room as soon as he opens his suitcase. Inside would be a box full of those multicoloured treats squished between his clothes. Even when he's practicing in the studio, he would pause every so often to open a pack and pop one -- always a luscious red -- in between his lips.
Red. It always reminded him of a moment, of an era long past. A time of when he would feel a tingling sensation course through his spine and spread through his whole body with just the simple enunciation of his name.
~*~
"Nao-kun, let's have dinner together."
In response, Nao readily nodded and grabbed onto that inviting arm. A calloused hand snaked down ever so slowly until their fingertips kissed. The bassist then curled his fingers over the back of the other’s palm tightly, enveloping that hand in his protection. He would pretend to casually look around him, as if there was nothing wrong. In truth, he was really keeping a lookout for the watchful eyes of others.
A little way down, Saga spotted their beloved vocalist by the vending machine. Almost out of instinct, he let go and his hand fell awkwardly at his side. He searched his companion’s face for wonderings of his actions, but the other acted as if he never saw and looked ahead.
"Hey, let’s go somewhere special today."
"Hmm? What's the occassion?"
"No reason, I just feel like it. Don't worry, it's my treat."
Crimson curtains greeted them as they entered the restaurant-cum-cosplay café. When Saga pressed his palm against the window, he could feel its velvety texture as it lightly brushed against his fingers. A full moon was visible outside, but shrouded in the candlestick's reflection. The flame continuously flickered as they laughed at each other’s jokes and mellowed down when they were reduced to whispers of sentimentality. Their hands would brush every so often as they mesmerized each other with the shy smiles on their glowing faces.
"Wouldn't it be nice if we could always be like this?"
~*~
He just came home from another of his ritual trips; the scents of coffee and cigarettes sticking to his clothes. Sighing, he took another of those candy-coated treats from the pack in his pocket. He looked at it for a bit, and then fondled it between his fingers until the red painted his skin. Soon, the remaining brown started to melt on his paleness, making him lick it off -- chocolate, coating and all.
"Your kisses were never as sweet," his bitter irony slipped through his mouth as he let his tongue rub against his lower lip. "Never as sweet as that time."
~*~
They would always meet each other during the dark hours, under the light of a lamp post just outside Nao's apartment. In the rare moments when the city sleeps, they would talk on and on, until the first rays of dawn came. Tears were sometimes shed, unencumbered by the eyeliner or whatever manner of make up they would use to mask up the truth.
"You'll get through this, Nao-kun," Saga once said, carefully uttering each reassuring word with resolve. Having known each other for years, he had become a confidante and adviser of sorts. His hand twitched a bit at his side. Its rightful place was behind the drummer's nape, he knew. It should be there where he could pull Nao closer to his warmth, all in the name of a friend comforting a friend. But was that all there is to it?
"You're a very kind person. I believe in you. You'll get over this and find a girl deserving of you."
He lifted his fingers to brush away the unshed tears shining on those orbs curtained under black velvet bangs. He could not do it, however. There was a barrier, an invisible wall separating the two of them, and he felt like Pyramus yearning for Thisbe through a crack, a hole so tiny he could barely make out what's on the other side. But unlike the fictitious characters, he was quite afraid to know what lay beyond that gap.
"Thank you, Sagacchi," mumbled the drummer between his sobs. He clung onto Saga's clothes in an effort to find comfort in his arms. "Thanks for always being here for me. You're such a loving friend."
The bassist's hand twitched a bit at his side and fingernails started to dig into the concrete of the curb where they sat.
He was a liar.
~*~
He spent an hour in the bathroom, trying to rub off the food colouring on his hands. Oddly enough, the colour seemed to be very hard to come off, so it took him that long to wash his hands clean. But even so, his palms were bright red. From the candies or from the prolonged scrubbing, he was not sure.
He thought he should practice for a while, but when he arrived to the part of his room where he rehearsed, his hands automatically reached for the pack lying on his instrument. He cringed almost immediately as the taut strings of his bass cut through his skin.
~*~
Nao tapped Saga on the shoulder as soon as they exited the interview room. "You all right? You haven't been paying too much attention lately."
"I'm absolutely super!" To underline his words, the bassist made an effort to lift the corners of his lips into a beam. He ended up involuntarily opening his mouth instead though, and sharply sucked in large amounts of air.
"Whoa!" The drummer raised both of his hands evasively, as if the other would suddenly breathe fire on him. Of course, he was a tad concerned despite his chortling. "Haven't been getting enough sleep, huh? You even slept through the interview just now."
"I didn't mean to do that really," replied Saga in between more yawns. "I'm just so tired lately."
"So I've noticed." Nao nodded thoughtfully, with the forefinger and thumb of one hand tracing down his chin. However, there was a certain twinkle in his eyes that warned Saga a split second early of the oncoming artillery. "Why, can't sleep in your own bed?"
"Maybe his body is looking for a futon," chimed in Hiroto all of the sudden while immersed in sniggers.
"Yeah, maybe he just misses Marie-chan," added Shou. The sadistic trio had cornered the poor bassist, who was now glancing around for someone to help him out of the trio's teasings. Fortunately, Tora acknowledged that plea for assistance and lightly tugged their vocalist's collar from behind.
"Just let him go, guys. He needs to rest."
Amidst the protests and playful banter now directed at Tora, Saga mouthed a quick thank you towards the guitarist as he was about to take leave. The other merely nodded and mouthed back, "Good luck."
As soon as he pushed the door ajar, Saga flicked the light switch on and let brightness flood the room. Hundreds of coloured paper littered the floor that even Chiko had a hard time making his way across to greet his master.
"We have a long night ahead of us, huh?" mumbled the bassist as he rubbed Chiko behind the ear. The aged dog seemed to narrow his eyes in annoyance, but still licked his master affectionately.
Saga had contemplated about it for quite a long time, but it was only last week that he finally decided. Tomorrow was the end of July, and the date he would begin to be completely honest regarding his emotions. However, he felt that merely saying the words were not enough, so he was determined to show the depth of his feelings.
Every night, he would quietly sit in a corner of his room for hours on end. There, he would fold cranes -- without eating, without sleeping, without stopping. He only left the house for work-related matters or when he can no longer ignore Chiko's complaints. And, despite only having a week, he never had the intention to make a rushed work of it. With each fold he makes, he deliberately slows down to check and recheck that the alignment is perfect to the best of his ability. After all, it was his strong feelings for the drummer that is being poured into each crease, so there was no room for carelessness. He wanted everything to be flawless as much as possible.
The remaining members of Alice Nine were well aware of this little "project" of his. They even offered to help him out. Especially Tora, he was so insistent but no, Saga cannot let them even if he wanted to. He was very much familiar with the legend so he had to make all one thousand with his own hands. Otherwise, the cranes would not grant his wish. That's why every night, he would slave away in a corner of his home, surrounded by brightly coloured birds that cannot fly on their own.
~*~
"The only thing I wished for was not to be hurt in the worst way possible."
~*~
"Take this, too."
Tora dropped in an hour before the chosen time. Saga raised an eyebrow when he saw him standing at his doorstep, a bent cigarette in his mouth and a large parcel in his hands.
"Don't you think you're overloading me with gifts?" asked the bassist when he let the other in his home. Tora then went straight to the kitchen without bothering to take off his shoes. Saga didn't seemed to mind; he was more interested in what his friend had brought.
"Shut up. This is for Nao-san." Tora heaved a bit and carefully laid his burden on the kitchen table. All the while, Saga was shadowing him from a curious distance.
"I know, but what is it?"
Tora opened the parcel to show Saga its contents -- a chocolate cake. It seemed delicious, although the sloppy icing designs gave away the fact that it was made by amateurs.
"It's something Shou and I came up with. Hiroppon wanted to help in the baking process, but he's too fired up to be helpful. He made the decorations, though."
Saga scrutinized the sponge-like form laid out in front of him as he got lost in his own thoughts. Meanwhile, Tora was lighting a cigarette to replace the bent one he had previously. After blowing a stream of smoke to the air, he turned to Saga again.
"Are you sure you want to do this alone? I mean, all of us could just barge in there right now then leave you two later on or something."
"I know. But I want to be the first."
Saga always had a spare key to Nao's apartment, but he never bothered using it until now. The other members were there with him, but they agreed to wait twenty minutes before going up.
He opened the door ajar as silent as he could muster. He felt like a thief sneaking in, but the only valuable he was after was the resident's heart. It was dark all over, so he thought that Nao must have retired early. He was about to tell the others when he heard almost indistinct voices further in. He followed the sounds, each step he made was quiet and full of dread.
Nao's bedroom door was open, but just barely. Saga already knew what was going on inside. He had always known, but he was so deep in denial that he still ventured close enough to take a peek through the gap.
She was the only one in view, her brown hair all messed up because of the hands running through them. Red was the colour of her dress; that short, tight, seductive dress. It dangled dangerously from the edge of the bed, threatening to fall with each slight movement of the wood as cries of ecstasy broke through the air.
He saw it all, and it stung.
He bolted out of the apartment and collided with someone, he was not sure who. He did not bother apologizing. He did not even bother looking back. He just ran as far away as he could, his mind completely blank except for the scent of the chocolate all over his clothes and the blood red shade of her dress.
~*~
He would always have a pack of M&M’s with him. Every time he goes on a pilgrimage to Akihabara, he would reach in his pocket and slip one into his mouth. He would suck on it to savour its sweetness, in hopes to erase the bitterness in his heart. At Starbucks, he would dot his cake with colours, believing that perhaps his life would have more brilliance as well. During tours, the scent of chocolate would fill the hotel room as soon as he opened his suitcase. Without fail, it would make his thoughts drift to the events of that night.
He would always remember -- he swore it to himself. Every chance he could get, he would visit the places that reminded him of his beloved and refresh each precious memory he had of that captivating drummer. Yes, he swore that he would always remember everything, until the day came when he could forget.
He brought his cut finger to his lips and licked the sticky substance that trickled down. It tasted bitter, even when it mixed with the hints of chocolate left in his mouth.
Red. It always reminded him of a moment, of an era long past. A time that was now long gone, never to return.
***
Random End Notes: I suddenly remembered something while I was rushing the sixth segment, so it became like this. (=_=) Folding a thousand paper cranes is serious business. *sighs* My muse would probably kill me for this...
NOTICE: There's a large probability that this story would probably my last until the semester ends. (TAT) But my minority report says that I'll be able to write again as soon as I learn how to manage my time wisely and balance my studies with everything else. *ponders*
Anyway, I'm grateful to everyone who has read my stories. I feel that I've grown in my writing these past few months. It's been a great help. *bows appreciatively*
Author: kage_no_kodoku
Rating: R
Warnings: implied sexual situations
Genre: angst, drama
Pairing: (Saga x Nao) + OC [ugh, looks like a math equation *facepalms*], vague hints of Tora x Nao [blink and you'll miss it]
Prompts: "Paint and Chocolate" and "The cruelest lies are often told without a word. The kindest truths are often spoke and never heard." (Ben Folds)
Summary: Red. It always reminded him of a moment, of an era long past. A time of when he would feel a tingling sensation course through his spine and spread through his whole body with just the simple enunciation of his name.
Disclaimer: Nothing more than a figment of my imagination, which is already faulty as it is... LJ cut taken from William Blake's "Auguries of Innocence."
Notes: Written for Alice in Fiction's Week 10 and Tragic Ennui's Prompt 16.
I'm being viciously attacked by writer's block... So yeah. (TAT)
Anyway, this story wouldn't read nearly as well as it is now if it weren't for my beta, jalela. However, the sixth to eighth segments are un-beta-ed, not to mention quite rushed and it sucks big time because I was writing while half-asleep at around 2 o'clock this morning. All grammatical mistakes and stylistic inconsistencies there are completely my fault.
Oh, I have to mention that "~*~" indicates alternating between the present and flashbacks, just for it to be clear.
***
He would always have a pack of M&M’s with him. Every time he goes on a pilgrimage to Akihabara, he would reach in his pocket and slip one into his mouth. He would suck on it to savour its sweetness; and whenever he was at Starbucks, he would dot his cake with colours. During tours, the scent of chocolate would fill the hotel room as soon as he opens his suitcase. Inside would be a box full of those multicoloured treats squished between his clothes. Even when he's practicing in the studio, he would pause every so often to open a pack and pop one -- always a luscious red -- in between his lips.
Red. It always reminded him of a moment, of an era long past. A time of when he would feel a tingling sensation course through his spine and spread through his whole body with just the simple enunciation of his name.
~*~
"Nao-kun, let's have dinner together."
In response, Nao readily nodded and grabbed onto that inviting arm. A calloused hand snaked down ever so slowly until their fingertips kissed. The bassist then curled his fingers over the back of the other’s palm tightly, enveloping that hand in his protection. He would pretend to casually look around him, as if there was nothing wrong. In truth, he was really keeping a lookout for the watchful eyes of others.
A little way down, Saga spotted their beloved vocalist by the vending machine. Almost out of instinct, he let go and his hand fell awkwardly at his side. He searched his companion’s face for wonderings of his actions, but the other acted as if he never saw and looked ahead.
"Hey, let’s go somewhere special today."
"Hmm? What's the occassion?"
"No reason, I just feel like it. Don't worry, it's my treat."
Crimson curtains greeted them as they entered the restaurant-cum-cosplay café. When Saga pressed his palm against the window, he could feel its velvety texture as it lightly brushed against his fingers. A full moon was visible outside, but shrouded in the candlestick's reflection. The flame continuously flickered as they laughed at each other’s jokes and mellowed down when they were reduced to whispers of sentimentality. Their hands would brush every so often as they mesmerized each other with the shy smiles on their glowing faces.
"Wouldn't it be nice if we could always be like this?"
~*~
He just came home from another of his ritual trips; the scents of coffee and cigarettes sticking to his clothes. Sighing, he took another of those candy-coated treats from the pack in his pocket. He looked at it for a bit, and then fondled it between his fingers until the red painted his skin. Soon, the remaining brown started to melt on his paleness, making him lick it off -- chocolate, coating and all.
"Your kisses were never as sweet," his bitter irony slipped through his mouth as he let his tongue rub against his lower lip. "Never as sweet as that time."
~*~
They would always meet each other during the dark hours, under the light of a lamp post just outside Nao's apartment. In the rare moments when the city sleeps, they would talk on and on, until the first rays of dawn came. Tears were sometimes shed, unencumbered by the eyeliner or whatever manner of make up they would use to mask up the truth.
"You'll get through this, Nao-kun," Saga once said, carefully uttering each reassuring word with resolve. Having known each other for years, he had become a confidante and adviser of sorts. His hand twitched a bit at his side. Its rightful place was behind the drummer's nape, he knew. It should be there where he could pull Nao closer to his warmth, all in the name of a friend comforting a friend. But was that all there is to it?
"You're a very kind person. I believe in you. You'll get over this and find a girl deserving of you."
He lifted his fingers to brush away the unshed tears shining on those orbs curtained under black velvet bangs. He could not do it, however. There was a barrier, an invisible wall separating the two of them, and he felt like Pyramus yearning for Thisbe through a crack, a hole so tiny he could barely make out what's on the other side. But unlike the fictitious characters, he was quite afraid to know what lay beyond that gap.
"Thank you, Sagacchi," mumbled the drummer between his sobs. He clung onto Saga's clothes in an effort to find comfort in his arms. "Thanks for always being here for me. You're such a loving friend."
The bassist's hand twitched a bit at his side and fingernails started to dig into the concrete of the curb where they sat.
He was a liar.
~*~
He spent an hour in the bathroom, trying to rub off the food colouring on his hands. Oddly enough, the colour seemed to be very hard to come off, so it took him that long to wash his hands clean. But even so, his palms were bright red. From the candies or from the prolonged scrubbing, he was not sure.
He thought he should practice for a while, but when he arrived to the part of his room where he rehearsed, his hands automatically reached for the pack lying on his instrument. He cringed almost immediately as the taut strings of his bass cut through his skin.
~*~
Nao tapped Saga on the shoulder as soon as they exited the interview room. "You all right? You haven't been paying too much attention lately."
"I'm absolutely super!" To underline his words, the bassist made an effort to lift the corners of his lips into a beam. He ended up involuntarily opening his mouth instead though, and sharply sucked in large amounts of air.
"Whoa!" The drummer raised both of his hands evasively, as if the other would suddenly breathe fire on him. Of course, he was a tad concerned despite his chortling. "Haven't been getting enough sleep, huh? You even slept through the interview just now."
"I didn't mean to do that really," replied Saga in between more yawns. "I'm just so tired lately."
"So I've noticed." Nao nodded thoughtfully, with the forefinger and thumb of one hand tracing down his chin. However, there was a certain twinkle in his eyes that warned Saga a split second early of the oncoming artillery. "Why, can't sleep in your own bed?"
"Maybe his body is looking for a futon," chimed in Hiroto all of the sudden while immersed in sniggers.
"Yeah, maybe he just misses Marie-chan," added Shou. The sadistic trio had cornered the poor bassist, who was now glancing around for someone to help him out of the trio's teasings. Fortunately, Tora acknowledged that plea for assistance and lightly tugged their vocalist's collar from behind.
"Just let him go, guys. He needs to rest."
Amidst the protests and playful banter now directed at Tora, Saga mouthed a quick thank you towards the guitarist as he was about to take leave. The other merely nodded and mouthed back, "Good luck."
As soon as he pushed the door ajar, Saga flicked the light switch on and let brightness flood the room. Hundreds of coloured paper littered the floor that even Chiko had a hard time making his way across to greet his master.
"We have a long night ahead of us, huh?" mumbled the bassist as he rubbed Chiko behind the ear. The aged dog seemed to narrow his eyes in annoyance, but still licked his master affectionately.
Saga had contemplated about it for quite a long time, but it was only last week that he finally decided. Tomorrow was the end of July, and the date he would begin to be completely honest regarding his emotions. However, he felt that merely saying the words were not enough, so he was determined to show the depth of his feelings.
Every night, he would quietly sit in a corner of his room for hours on end. There, he would fold cranes -- without eating, without sleeping, without stopping. He only left the house for work-related matters or when he can no longer ignore Chiko's complaints. And, despite only having a week, he never had the intention to make a rushed work of it. With each fold he makes, he deliberately slows down to check and recheck that the alignment is perfect to the best of his ability. After all, it was his strong feelings for the drummer that is being poured into each crease, so there was no room for carelessness. He wanted everything to be flawless as much as possible.
The remaining members of Alice Nine were well aware of this little "project" of his. They even offered to help him out. Especially Tora, he was so insistent but no, Saga cannot let them even if he wanted to. He was very much familiar with the legend so he had to make all one thousand with his own hands. Otherwise, the cranes would not grant his wish. That's why every night, he would slave away in a corner of his home, surrounded by brightly coloured birds that cannot fly on their own.
~*~
"The only thing I wished for was not to be hurt in the worst way possible."
~*~
"Take this, too."
Tora dropped in an hour before the chosen time. Saga raised an eyebrow when he saw him standing at his doorstep, a bent cigarette in his mouth and a large parcel in his hands.
"Don't you think you're overloading me with gifts?" asked the bassist when he let the other in his home. Tora then went straight to the kitchen without bothering to take off his shoes. Saga didn't seemed to mind; he was more interested in what his friend had brought.
"Shut up. This is for Nao-san." Tora heaved a bit and carefully laid his burden on the kitchen table. All the while, Saga was shadowing him from a curious distance.
"I know, but what is it?"
Tora opened the parcel to show Saga its contents -- a chocolate cake. It seemed delicious, although the sloppy icing designs gave away the fact that it was made by amateurs.
"It's something Shou and I came up with. Hiroppon wanted to help in the baking process, but he's too fired up to be helpful. He made the decorations, though."
Saga scrutinized the sponge-like form laid out in front of him as he got lost in his own thoughts. Meanwhile, Tora was lighting a cigarette to replace the bent one he had previously. After blowing a stream of smoke to the air, he turned to Saga again.
"Are you sure you want to do this alone? I mean, all of us could just barge in there right now then leave you two later on or something."
"I know. But I want to be the first."
Saga always had a spare key to Nao's apartment, but he never bothered using it until now. The other members were there with him, but they agreed to wait twenty minutes before going up.
He opened the door ajar as silent as he could muster. He felt like a thief sneaking in, but the only valuable he was after was the resident's heart. It was dark all over, so he thought that Nao must have retired early. He was about to tell the others when he heard almost indistinct voices further in. He followed the sounds, each step he made was quiet and full of dread.
Nao's bedroom door was open, but just barely. Saga already knew what was going on inside. He had always known, but he was so deep in denial that he still ventured close enough to take a peek through the gap.
She was the only one in view, her brown hair all messed up because of the hands running through them. Red was the colour of her dress; that short, tight, seductive dress. It dangled dangerously from the edge of the bed, threatening to fall with each slight movement of the wood as cries of ecstasy broke through the air.
He saw it all, and it stung.
He bolted out of the apartment and collided with someone, he was not sure who. He did not bother apologizing. He did not even bother looking back. He just ran as far away as he could, his mind completely blank except for the scent of the chocolate all over his clothes and the blood red shade of her dress.
~*~
He would always have a pack of M&M’s with him. Every time he goes on a pilgrimage to Akihabara, he would reach in his pocket and slip one into his mouth. He would suck on it to savour its sweetness, in hopes to erase the bitterness in his heart. At Starbucks, he would dot his cake with colours, believing that perhaps his life would have more brilliance as well. During tours, the scent of chocolate would fill the hotel room as soon as he opened his suitcase. Without fail, it would make his thoughts drift to the events of that night.
He would always remember -- he swore it to himself. Every chance he could get, he would visit the places that reminded him of his beloved and refresh each precious memory he had of that captivating drummer. Yes, he swore that he would always remember everything, until the day came when he could forget.
He brought his cut finger to his lips and licked the sticky substance that trickled down. It tasted bitter, even when it mixed with the hints of chocolate left in his mouth.
Red. It always reminded him of a moment, of an era long past. A time that was now long gone, never to return.
***
Random End Notes: I suddenly remembered something while I was rushing the sixth segment, so it became like this. (=_=) Folding a thousand paper cranes is serious business. *sighs* My muse would probably kill me for this...
NOTICE: There's a large probability that this story would probably my last until the semester ends. (TAT) But my minority report says that I'll be able to write again as soon as I learn how to manage my time wisely and balance my studies with everything else. *ponders*
Anyway, I'm grateful to everyone who has read my stories. I feel that I've grown in my writing these past few months. It's been a great help. *bows appreciatively*