Fic for sheenalinh
Title: Last Waltz
Pairing: Akanishi Jin/Kamenashi Kazuya; Jin/OC
Word count: 3,143
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death. A bit of angst. Messed-up tenses. Heavily glossed-over illness.
Notes: Thank you/s go here. To J, my bebelabs, who saw this …thing… from when I was flailing about a fic and told her I got inspired. To N, for reading what I’ve written so far-a week before the deadline-and reassuring me that it wasn’t so bad.
If you happen to recognize something from another fic, you’re probably right. Or if, by chance, you don’t know what I’m talking about-go read it here. I lay no claim over it; and while I could never hope to live up to its epicness, this wouldn’t have taken shape if I didn’t stumble across it.
I hope you give this a shot, dear recipient. *bows down*
Summary: Jin visits memories on the seaside.
...
An old man sets out towards the seaside; a slow, shuffling gait to where the waves meet sand. It’s specially a struggle-the cane he uses for support sinks a bit into the sand; while the bag hanging on his other arm swings and adds to throw his balance. It still hurt his manly pride having to use a cane, though it's been years since he started with it. Yet he persists; he walks on like a man with purpose.
Save for the use of a cane, and the slow (but inevitable) deterioration of one's health, Jin has aged well. His youthful, boyish features carried well into the era; the lines on his face more visible where he's used the muscles to laughing his heart out. It's a blessing that the years spent in the entertainment industry-heck, that life-didn't manage to steal Jin's inner child. His eyes never lost light; the childlike innocence of his gaze only somewhat tampered by the wisdom he's gathered through time.
A good few paces before the sea line, he stops and sits by a huge piece of rock. The old man brings out a map, looking into it to make sure he’s got the location right. He spreads his gaze across the ocean and the surrounding land; and once he locks onto to what he was looking for, he moves to a different part of the beach.
He arrives at the bark of a fallen tree, where beside it; a new one is starting to grow. He thanks his lucky stars that the old tree didn’t fall on the spot he claimed years before the tree even reached its current state and size. Jin brings out a small shovel and begins the slow, arduous task of unearthing something.
His digging bears fruit soon enough, and with the box safe in front of him, the man heaves a deep sigh-an odd mix of emotions pouring into that exhale of air.
From afar, he takes in the sight of the ocean; it’s the same blue shade as it was a long time ago, and the waves are as gentle as it was at this time of year. It’s been decades since he last set foot on this beach-in this continent-and it feels like the circle’s complete. It’s nostalgic. He’s returned to where he lived some of his happiest days with the person he loved best-and where that most precious person lost a long, well-fought battle against illness.
Jin removes the plastic covering and slowly, carefully, opens the box; it reveals a few mementos-pictures, small trinkets, cards, and letters-of the life he once led with Kame. At the very top of the pile lies an old, yellowed envelope, the letter within it read a billion times over. The paper’s edges are kind of frayed, so he tries to take care; despite the trembling of his hands, Jin gingerly removes the sheet from its envelope.
There are more of these boxes hidden in the deepest, darkest corner of his room; the contents of the one he’s brought on this trip chosen with great care. He’s never carried more than three keepsakes in his person at a time, and even then, he hides it so deep into the recesses of the daily planner that he rarely uses. Acquaintances don’t think much on this, but the closer friends who know of the story behind this certain quirk give him hell. They call him ten different kinds of sentimental sap-in their own special brand of love, of course-but he’s spent most of his life being bullied by these people, and therefore already used to their teasing.
It’s been years before he was able to go back to this place; years more still to even begin to let go. He’s decided to preserve the last of Kame’s memories where they finally got to be together, choosing an easy spot to bury this boxful of memories. He’s burying it in the sand, but there’s more than enough space for them in his heart, even without the physical proof.
Jin runs a gentle finger over the paper as he begins to read the letter; he’s already read it enough to know every word, but he takes comfort in reading Kame’s words-a list of demands, as the letter so helpfully put-and the very last of his memories. He traces each character with reverence, ending with the scrawled-in chain of blue daisies and the barely-passable drawing of a cartoon turtle at the borders; it’s been a long while since he held this piece of memory in his hand, seeing for his eyes every word he carved into his heart all those years ago.
The beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips, Jin folds up the letter and puts it back in the envelope with the same care he used pulling it out. He then goes through the rest of the pile, and lets out a full smile. He’s finally coming home to the love of his life; he’s coming home to Kame.
He’s about to get married; and they were already expecting their firstborn. Jin would’ve asked for his late lover’s blessings, but he’s already had it the moment he read Kame’s last wishes. When Jin met her during one of his travels around the world, he knew it just felt right; that’s it’s time to let himself fall in love again. He knew in his heart, that while the strength and love and encouragement from his parents, his brother, and his friends never ran short-he still needed this. It’s as much for his own sake as it is out of respect for Kame’s wish.
In the years that followed, knowledge of anything and everything about each other was exchanged freely; and being with each other had actually been good for them both. Having shared the same pains of loss, they had each other for strength; and for piecing back fragments of their own hearts, while understanding that a huge part of it will always belong to the ones who departed.
Someone places a gentle touch on Jin’s shoulder, and he gingerly turns to find his grandchild smiling down at him. The hand on his shoulder leaves awhile as the girl proceeds to take the space beside him; it’s then replaced by an arm that wraps around him in a half embrace, and the enveloping warmth of a blanket. Jin returns the smile in a silent gesture of thanks.
They stay that way for quite some time; Jin sorts through his mementos, while his granddaughter silently stays by. He doesn’t feel the need to take cover; his family knew of his life as an idol, however long ago that was, and they understand that Kame was special. It’s something his wife understood only too well, having lost her first love to the same disease; and this was one of the best things about his marriage-his wife was never bitter, never jealous of Kame’s memory. She’s gone now, so only Jin himself knows the extent of how special Kame was to him.
Jin’s fortunate enough to have found an understanding partner in life when he thought he’d never be able to. He's moved forward-the only other way past the pain of loss-but he has never forgotten his most precious person. It seemed impossible, the first few years since Kame died; Jin didn’t deem himself at all ready to find another person to love. In fact, it was so far from his mind back then; when, in the first few months following Kame’s death, he had decisions to make and fight for-with himself, with management, with the members-opting to join KAT-TUN for a tour dedicated to their youngest.
The tour had been a blur of fireworks, sequins, smoke, shiny confetti, and laser shows. It didn’t have an air of subdued lament. It was a celebration of a life-of an idol, a friend, a son, and (known only to a select few) a lover. Nobody was left out-management, by Jin’s insistence (and Yamapi’s wheedling), made sure that every junior had time to join in the tour; colleagues came to watch and cheer for the group, and even the seniors gave their support in their own crazy ways.
He’d missed the thrill, the adrenaline rush that performing on stage provided. It felt good to come back, even for just the tour. Making music has always been at the forefront of his passions; but sharing it with people-either in performing on stage, under the lights, in front of a huge crowd with their screams and fervent applause, or in a smaller, more intimate affair-came a close and integral second.
He finishes sorting through each piece from the box just as the temperature dips, indicating the start of the sun’s descent into the horizon. He puts everything back carefully, closing the lid with a soft but final thud; and clutches each end of the blanket with one hand, tighter around his shoulders. The other hand hangs onto the small box, and he leans sideways to his grandchild for added warmth.
He watches the sunset for just a short while; and he finally turns to his grandchild with a smile. “Let's go home,” he says, his voice a bit rough from disuse. With a nod and a shy smile of her own, the girl gently helps him up and they leave before it gets completely dark. The child doesn’t say much, so the drive back is silent. Jin is tired, and he takes the silence as an opportunity to rest up and sleep.
When Jin wakes up, they’re already close to the hotel. He rubs his eyes and the back of his neck; works out the kinks he’s got from sitting in one position for so long. Jin stays in the car as his grandchild settles the check, and their bags are being loaded into the trunk as the girl returns to the driver’s seat.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay another night?” The girl asks.
“I can sleep in my seat just fine, what’s one more day? I just want to go home. To Japan,” Jin insists, and that’s all the confirmation his grandchild needs. They drive off, having fulfilled the purpose of this one last sojourn. The box of mementos Jin dug out earlier in the day is safe inside the bag on his lap.
...
He stirs from a fitful slumber to find Nakamaru leaning against the wall near the foot of his bed. Jin rubs his eyes; quite disbelieving of the sight before him. He moves to rise, but Maru raises a hand to keep him where he is.
KAT-TUN-or rather, what’s left of them-paid Jin a visit as soon as they’ve heard that he’s back in Japan. His visitors didn’t include Maru, though, since it’s been five years since Nakamaru Yuichi kicked the bucket and joined their friends over at the other side.
To say that the man’s sudden appearance was a surprise would be quite the understatement; so he reacts to Nakamaru’s presence in the only way he knows how. “It’s too early having your ugly face within sight,” Jin grumbles. “What are you doing here?”
Nakamaru hides his laugh in a snort; “I missed you, too, idiot.”
He lets out a full grin, his eyes almost disappearing with the way it squints. This apparition of Nakamaru is nothing like the last time Jin saw him. That Yuichi from five years ago was ancient and sickly; and the man before him is vibrant and free, much like their (younger) selves during their prime. Jin is silent in his awe, just staring at the presence in front of him.
“I have someone with me,” Nakamaru finally says, breaking the silence. His grin fades into a small smile, but the shine in his eyes stays on, if not intensifying.
Jin moves to rise once more and freezes in his tracks the moment that the person Maru spoke of made his presence known. It’s a face he hasn’t seen in a very long while, one he never even thought he’d be able to see again.
Kame.
Kame looks at Jin’s frail form on the bed, settling on his face-he takes in each line stretching across the other man’s forehead, every wrinkle marking his lover’s features; and Jin just stares back like he couldn’t believe his eyes. It’s not like him to feel ashamed of his current form but at this moment, Jin fights the urge to hide his face from the scrutiny in Kame’s gaze. He does nothing to act on the impulse, though; the joy in getting to see his most precious person again-young, healthy, alive-wins out entirely.
The spell is broken when a cough comes from Nakamaru, who’s still leaning against the wall and is simply observing their reunion. Kame levels a glare at him, but all Nakamaru does is raise his hands in a sort-of surrender, a slight smirk pasted on his face.
“I’ll just leave you two at it; I have places to be and people to haunt.” Nakamaru says that last word with mischief burning in his eyes, and he fades into thin air.
And then they’re left alone, the silence within the room and their newfound privacy playing between blessing and curse. The presence on Jin’s side is nothing short of a miracle; and despite his initial reaction to cry out (that of which was stopped only because of Kame’s quick intervention), Jin now finds himself unable to utter a single word still. What does one say to the other after so many years apart in the most painful but inevitably final manner-like death-anyway? He just lets everything he can’t put into words show through his own eyes, trusting that Kame knows him well enough to understand.
In the few moments that passed locked in each other’s gaze, Kame has already taken all of five steps across the room to Jin’s side. Kame reaches down to gently trace the lines he was only previously looking at, almost reverently running his hand over the other man’s face. Jin’s hand closes in on the one tracing his face and holds on tight, as if afraid that once he lets go, Kame will disappear again.
Kame reads all these emotions and thoughts in Jin’s eyes, and his heart breaks for the man. It’s one of the many things that haven’t changed about Jin, the way he is so easily read by those close to his heart. He shushes the beginnings of another teary outburst from Jin with a light brush of his lips over the other man’s forehead. “Yes, I’m here now,” Kame softly utters.
Jin calms and finally finds his voice; a whispered, “It really has been a while,” escaping his lips.
Kame smiles-a slight upward quirk of his lips-his eyes are serene, his demeanor calm. The hand that remained free from Jin’s hold lovingly glides through the grey strands of Jin’s hair. “I know,” he replies.
“I missed you,” Jin says. “Every day I thought of you. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone after you, but I met her years and years later,” he continues.
“I watched over you; I believed you’d meet someone, however long it took. I even got to meet her when she crossed to my side, and I’m glad. Right now she’s with her first love, happily making up for lost time,” Kame informs Jin.
“I’m glad for her, then,” Jin says with a fond smile on his face. “She got her happy ending after all.”
Jin clutches at his chest, the pain flaring from the center and radiating down his left arm. Suddenly it’s hard to breathe, and his eyes widen in fear. Kame is a steady presence at his side, whispering soothing nothings as he holds Jin tight in his arms. He meets Jin’s eyes even as it begins to lose light, and Kame leans down to press their lips in a chaste kiss.
...
In Jin’s eyes, the white light is starting to fade, the colors slowly creeping back towards the center; and he finds he’s in a different place than just a few moments before. Kame’s still standing in front of him, all sunshine eyes and a bright smile. He feels Kame pull at his hands, and he looks down at it; surprised to find that where he’d expected it would be frail and wrinkly, his hands and forearms are smooth, firm.
Being back in the form of his prime years is quite the pleasant surprise. He tightens his hold on Kame’s hand, and together they walk into a majestic entryway. This time, there’s no one getting left behind-not anymore.
…
Don't say goodbye
Will you be always with me
Franco - Last Waltz
He finds himself awake a few moments before dawn, and he knows by then that it’s time. Jin lies fast asleep beside him; the other man’s even intakes of breath ghosting over his head.
Kame gently pries himself loose from his lover’s embrace, albeit halfheartedly, and is met with resistance; even asleep, Jin moves to tighten his hold. He doesn’t even have the strength to actually lift himself up, so he settles to tilting his head a little to see Jin’s face. He’s spent nights awake like this-looking at Jin and committing every detail to memory. He replays every moment they ever spent together and pays equal focus on all of these memories, good, bad, ugly-because the bad ones paved the road to their happier times.
It’s been weeks since that fateful doctor’s appointment-during which Jin stormed off to block out the rest of the doctor’s words, while Kame bravely stayed put-and days since the pain became too unbearable to endure at home. He’s long since accepted this eventuality, but knowing that his days are numbered doesn’t make it any less painful. He allows himself the few teardrops that escape from his eyes, just this once; but then he smiles as he wipes them away.
He’s already thinking about the letter he asked one of the nurses to mail for him in a few days; and he pictures Jin reading it, knowing that by then, he’ll be gone. Kame asks a higher being for strength and courage to those he will leave behind. In his heart, he believes that everything will (eventually) be all right. Kame has every faith that Jin will do everything in his power to live on. He believes in the strength of Jin’s heart, and in his love.
Kame snuggles into Jin’s embrace for the last time, the other man’s warmth lulling him into a slumber. He’s just tired, and Kame closes his eyes precisely as the first rays of dawn grace the horizon. This time, it’s to eternal sleep.