0517
Title: 0517
Chapter: One-shot
Author: kiroyo
Genre: Romance, Life
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own this page of lies.
Rating: G
Pairing: Uruha x Kai
Synopsis: Uruha couldn't give a bloody fuck either way.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
Uruha closed his eyes in bliss, fatigue, forcing them open and squinting against the morning mist. He stared a second longer at the clock's reflection on the glass pane 05:17
Since when did the sun rise so early?
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
The streets below were empty. Grey, desolate, dead. On the sidewalk, a balding middle aged man with his hands buried in the pockets of his trench coat dragged his feet wearily down the pavement. Head bowed, eyes downcast, eyebrows furrowed were all Uruha could make out from the fogged window on the third floor.
Impending bankruptcy, a lack of funds and friends to pay off loans acquired through a cheap scam topped up with an unsupportive wife who left home with their kids.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
Moving northeast a little where the small park was, an elderly lady sat slouched on a bench. Dull moth bitten clothes and a tattered rug sack next to her. She stared longingly at a box of disposed Chinese takeaway tucked half buried in the trashcan.
Deemed a liability because of her age and abandoned by her 3 sons she raised by selling dumplings.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
Not too far away, a kid tottered down a stairwell. Uruha's eyebrows perked up. Toy cars in both hands, the boy ran across the fortunately empty road. He dashed to the playground and merrily plopped himself down in the sandbox, a cloud of sand momentarily obscuring him from Uruha's sight. Grubby hands sent the cars flying in wayward directions in the air, his lips mouthing onomatopoeias of zooming motorbikes and vrooming racing cars.
A workaholic father who leaves for a desk job at the crack of dawn and a depressed mother who was too far gone to care.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
What has their society become?
If he were to walk down there with them, with his blond auburn hair frizzled and free of hairspray, and clad in gaudy PJs, how would the world judge him? How would they hypothesise his background, his story, his life? Could anyone tell he's a rock star? Lead guitarist of an all too famous band?
What would they know?
"Are you mindfucking yourself again?" croaked a voice laced with sleep.
Uruha turned away from the window and glanced at the figure buried under the covers with a foot awkwardly peeking out.
He smiled.
As if he gave a fuck about what they thought.
"I'm not. Go back to sleep you."
A soft snort was heard. "Liar. You're speaking Yoda already. Come back here."
Uruha chuckled. He casted a last look out of the window, at the man, the old lady and the young boy.
A millionaire, a philanthropist and a kid high on caffeine after sneaking a can of coke into his room.
Shrugging, he snuffed out his cigarette and stretched. The person on the bed rolled around and rubbed his eyes. Tussled black hair jutting out in all directions, t-shirt blotted with coffee stains and pen ink and an unshaved jaw line.
Drummer and leader of the GazettE?
Who'd ever guess?
Uruha couldn't give two fucks.
"Come 'ere..."
A muscled arm rose into the air, thick calloused fingers clumsily waving him over.
Uruha rolled his eyes.
Asymmetrical dimple, drowsy eyes which twinkled even in the dim light, and hands so rough Uruha wouldn’t have them any other way.
There would be no other.
A/N: Transpired on the bus ride home. I can’t stop listening to Suicide Circus now. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve been out of jrock for the longest time, much less my all-time #1 band… OTL But anyhow, I’M BACK!? And I’m so mfking inspired now after looping the pv millions of times I might just spam my LJ with fics. No wait I’m lying. Don’t count on me on that. -END OF RAMBLE- xxx
A/N/N: I just remembered this pairing is my first and requested from buriedinheart! Hope it's okay. Kinda buzzed out now from lethargy + gaze high hahaha <3
Chapter: One-shot
Author: kiroyo
Genre: Romance, Life
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own this page of lies.
Rating: G
Pairing: Uruha x Kai
Synopsis: Uruha couldn't give a bloody fuck either way.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
Uruha closed his eyes in bliss, fatigue, forcing them open and squinting against the morning mist. He stared a second longer at the clock's reflection on the glass pane 05:17
Since when did the sun rise so early?
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
The streets below were empty. Grey, desolate, dead. On the sidewalk, a balding middle aged man with his hands buried in the pockets of his trench coat dragged his feet wearily down the pavement. Head bowed, eyes downcast, eyebrows furrowed were all Uruha could make out from the fogged window on the third floor.
Impending bankruptcy, a lack of funds and friends to pay off loans acquired through a cheap scam topped up with an unsupportive wife who left home with their kids.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
Moving northeast a little where the small park was, an elderly lady sat slouched on a bench. Dull moth bitten clothes and a tattered rug sack next to her. She stared longingly at a box of disposed Chinese takeaway tucked half buried in the trashcan.
Deemed a liability because of her age and abandoned by her 3 sons she raised by selling dumplings.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
Not too far away, a kid tottered down a stairwell. Uruha's eyebrows perked up. Toy cars in both hands, the boy ran across the fortunately empty road. He dashed to the playground and merrily plopped himself down in the sandbox, a cloud of sand momentarily obscuring him from Uruha's sight. Grubby hands sent the cars flying in wayward directions in the air, his lips mouthing onomatopoeias of zooming motorbikes and vrooming racing cars.
A workaholic father who leaves for a desk job at the crack of dawn and a depressed mother who was too far gone to care.
Breathe. Exhale. Another drag.
What has their society become?
If he were to walk down there with them, with his blond auburn hair frizzled and free of hairspray, and clad in gaudy PJs, how would the world judge him? How would they hypothesise his background, his story, his life? Could anyone tell he's a rock star? Lead guitarist of an all too famous band?
What would they know?
"Are you mindfucking yourself again?" croaked a voice laced with sleep.
Uruha turned away from the window and glanced at the figure buried under the covers with a foot awkwardly peeking out.
He smiled.
As if he gave a fuck about what they thought.
"I'm not. Go back to sleep you."
A soft snort was heard. "Liar. You're speaking Yoda already. Come back here."
Uruha chuckled. He casted a last look out of the window, at the man, the old lady and the young boy.
A millionaire, a philanthropist and a kid high on caffeine after sneaking a can of coke into his room.
Shrugging, he snuffed out his cigarette and stretched. The person on the bed rolled around and rubbed his eyes. Tussled black hair jutting out in all directions, t-shirt blotted with coffee stains and pen ink and an unshaved jaw line.
Drummer and leader of the GazettE?
Who'd ever guess?
Uruha couldn't give two fucks.
"Come 'ere..."
A muscled arm rose into the air, thick calloused fingers clumsily waving him over.
Uruha rolled his eyes.
Asymmetrical dimple, drowsy eyes which twinkled even in the dim light, and hands so rough Uruha wouldn’t have them any other way.
There would be no other.
A/N: Transpired on the bus ride home. I can’t stop listening to Suicide Circus now. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve been out of jrock for the longest time, much less my all-time #1 band… OTL But anyhow, I’M BACK!? And I’m so mfking inspired now after looping the pv millions of times I might just spam my LJ with fics. No wait I’m lying. Don’t count on me on that. -END OF RAMBLE- xxx
A/N/N: I just remembered this pairing is my first and requested from buriedinheart! Hope it's okay. Kinda buzzed out now from lethargy + gaze high hahaha <3