Every Single Day (One-shot)
Title: Every Single Day
Chapters: n/a
Author: konicoffee
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Warnings: MalexMale love. Other than that, nothing really.
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Ruki/Uruha
Synopsis: Uruha reminisces Gazette's early days. Ruki recalls painful memories.
Comments: Requested by pucchan_17. First fic of this pairing, and definitely not the last.
The wind’s song is silent against the jangling noise of the city. A boutique door chimes along with the store’s background music as a group of young girls walk in. The song that plays in the shop is the same one that a woman in the restaurant next door listens to through a pair of earphones. Two tables away from this lady sit two men. One of them sighs as he watches the other stuff his face with tarako spaghetti. The other man looks at him as he swallows.
“You’re not eating that?” Kouyou asks, pointing at the plate of untouched pasta in front of the brunette.
Takanori smiles at the blonde. “I’m not hungry. You can have it if you want.”
“Why order if you’re not hungry?”
“It brings back memories.”
“Right,” Kouyou replies, “we always ate here after every live back then, didn’t we?”
Takanori smiles in response as he recalls Gazette’s first performance. Back then, they had to book their own performances. They had to promote their own gigs. They had to set up their own equipment. They even had to do their own hair and makeup. They did all that work for so little money. Celebrations would be in simple places like this, when each of them could afford their own plate of pasta.
“It’s amazing how far we’ve come since we formed the band. Our band actually has staff members now,” Kouyou says. “By the way, have we decided on the set list for next week’s live?”
Takanori stays silent. He merely gives Kouyou a sad smile. It has been a year since they canceled that show. It has been a year since The GazettE broke up, shortly after Kouyou’s accident.
Takanori closes his eyes. He recalls that day. It is a day just like today; just as bright and just as noisy. A man hums a folk song as he pours generous amounts of batter into a takoyaki pan. His customer waits by the takoyaki stand, quietly listening to the batter softly sizzling. A young boy runs by the stretch of shops where the takoyaki stand is located; he’s late for school. He pants as he quickens his sprint and lengthens his strides, making loud footsteps on the concrete. Tap. Tap. Tap. He crosses the street. He crosses the street too early.
He doesn’t see or hear the car speeding towards him. The driver of that car, however, sees the boy. The driver hits the brakes hard. Screams from bystanders drown the rest of the street’s sounds. The car screeches as it skids. The screeching stops. Crash. All sounds fade away along with the driver’s consciousness.
Anterogade amnesia from severe damage of the hippocampus, Takanori recalls the doctor saying. Mr. Takashima cannot make new memories. All memories created after the accident will be forgotten the next day.
He resists the urge to cry. In more ways than one, he has no future.
“Taka…?”
Takanori reaches for Kouyou’s hand. He feels tense muscles and veins. The brunette sighs as he realizes that the hand he’s holding still plays guitar everyday. He realizes that Kouyou wakes up every morning, remembering nothing of last year’s incident, and practices for a performance that would never come.
He has no future.
Kouyou keeps practicing his guitar, just like Takanori always rehearses lines for a scene he never had the courage to act out. But this time, he doesn’t care if his words aren’t remembered. He doesn’t care if he constantly gets rejected. Right then and there he swears to play this scene and say these lines everyday.
I have no future without you.
“I love you, Kouyou.”
Making new memories. Having a future. Takanori realizes that none of these are necessary. All he needs is the present. All he needs, all he wants, is to make Kouyou fall in love with him, over and over again. The same way he falls in love with Kouyou all the time like it’s the first time. Every single day.
Silverware gently colliding with porcelain. The door chiming as more customers come in. A Bach fugue alerting a woman of a phone call. Flipping of pages. Servers taking orders. Whispers. Soft laughter. Footsteps.
Takanori hears none of these. He only hears Kouyou. He only sees Kouyou and his grin making the day just a little brighter.
“I love you too, Takanori. I always have.”
Chapters: n/a
Author: konicoffee
Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Warnings: MalexMale love. Other than that, nothing really.
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Ruki/Uruha
Synopsis: Uruha reminisces Gazette's early days. Ruki recalls painful memories.
Comments: Requested by pucchan_17. First fic of this pairing, and definitely not the last.
The wind’s song is silent against the jangling noise of the city. A boutique door chimes along with the store’s background music as a group of young girls walk in. The song that plays in the shop is the same one that a woman in the restaurant next door listens to through a pair of earphones. Two tables away from this lady sit two men. One of them sighs as he watches the other stuff his face with tarako spaghetti. The other man looks at him as he swallows.
“You’re not eating that?” Kouyou asks, pointing at the plate of untouched pasta in front of the brunette.
Takanori smiles at the blonde. “I’m not hungry. You can have it if you want.”
“Why order if you’re not hungry?”
“It brings back memories.”
“Right,” Kouyou replies, “we always ate here after every live back then, didn’t we?”
Takanori smiles in response as he recalls Gazette’s first performance. Back then, they had to book their own performances. They had to promote their own gigs. They had to set up their own equipment. They even had to do their own hair and makeup. They did all that work for so little money. Celebrations would be in simple places like this, when each of them could afford their own plate of pasta.
“It’s amazing how far we’ve come since we formed the band. Our band actually has staff members now,” Kouyou says. “By the way, have we decided on the set list for next week’s live?”
Takanori stays silent. He merely gives Kouyou a sad smile. It has been a year since they canceled that show. It has been a year since The GazettE broke up, shortly after Kouyou’s accident.
Takanori closes his eyes. He recalls that day. It is a day just like today; just as bright and just as noisy. A man hums a folk song as he pours generous amounts of batter into a takoyaki pan. His customer waits by the takoyaki stand, quietly listening to the batter softly sizzling. A young boy runs by the stretch of shops where the takoyaki stand is located; he’s late for school. He pants as he quickens his sprint and lengthens his strides, making loud footsteps on the concrete. Tap. Tap. Tap. He crosses the street. He crosses the street too early.
He doesn’t see or hear the car speeding towards him. The driver of that car, however, sees the boy. The driver hits the brakes hard. Screams from bystanders drown the rest of the street’s sounds. The car screeches as it skids. The screeching stops. Crash. All sounds fade away along with the driver’s consciousness.
Anterogade amnesia from severe damage of the hippocampus, Takanori recalls the doctor saying. Mr. Takashima cannot make new memories. All memories created after the accident will be forgotten the next day.
He resists the urge to cry. In more ways than one, he has no future.
“Taka…?”
Takanori reaches for Kouyou’s hand. He feels tense muscles and veins. The brunette sighs as he realizes that the hand he’s holding still plays guitar everyday. He realizes that Kouyou wakes up every morning, remembering nothing of last year’s incident, and practices for a performance that would never come.
He has no future.
Kouyou keeps practicing his guitar, just like Takanori always rehearses lines for a scene he never had the courage to act out. But this time, he doesn’t care if his words aren’t remembered. He doesn’t care if he constantly gets rejected. Right then and there he swears to play this scene and say these lines everyday.
I have no future without you.
“I love you, Kouyou.”
Making new memories. Having a future. Takanori realizes that none of these are necessary. All he needs is the present. All he needs, all he wants, is to make Kouyou fall in love with him, over and over again. The same way he falls in love with Kouyou all the time like it’s the first time. Every single day.
Silverware gently colliding with porcelain. The door chiming as more customers come in. A Bach fugue alerting a woman of a phone call. Flipping of pages. Servers taking orders. Whispers. Soft laughter. Footsteps.
Takanori hears none of these. He only hears Kouyou. He only sees Kouyou and his grin making the day just a little brighter.
“I love you too, Takanori. I always have.”