Forever & Ever 15
Title: Forever & Ever (Miseinen Sequel)
Author: Zion Shadowlet
Beta: butterflysaga(the bitch)
Characters: Aoi, Uruha, Ruki, Reita, Kai and many OCs (Fuwa etc.)
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha and more~
Genre: Drama, Romance, Friendship, Comedy
Rating: NC17
Summary: Six years have passed since the summer at the Dazai Bright Future Retreat for Troubled Children. The boys meet in an unexpected way perhaps bound by fate in the underground world of Visual Kei. With broken hearts and promises; the boys-now young men look to regain some of what they lost by the wild and reckless pursuit of the same dream.
Previous Parts: Part 1.1 | Part 1.2 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4.1| Part 4.2| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7.1| Part 7.2| Part 8.1| Part 8.2| Part 9| Part 10| Part 11| Part 12| Part 13| Part 14
With his eyes shut tight, Ruki mumbled “You should use a make-up remover wipe” as Fuwa rubbed away at the makeup with a damp hand towel. He was failing so badly at it, that he was beginning to irritate the boy’s skin.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about this stuff,” Fuwa exhaled and let his hand drop away from this face. “Do you have any of those?” Ruki pointed to the side hutch and Fuwa turning toward it, searched it until he found the wipes. “I am assuming you use these.” The boy merely nodded yes as if it weren’t strange. “You look,” he paused and took in the sight: Ruki sitting there on the sink, red lipstick on his big round mouth and smudged blush all over his full cheeks. “Adorable,” he smiled despite the fact that he was still seething.
Ruki returned his smile and asked him “Why are you so mad?”
“Isao knows that that man is sexually loose and yet, he invites him to this little party of his despite the fact that he knows you are here,” he pulled out one of the wipes from the little plastic box they were contained within and walking back up Ruki, started to successfully clean his face of the blush.
“Maybe it didn’t cross his mind-”
“Oh yes, it did,” Fuwa cut him off. He was hell bent on removing the make-up. “You don’t remember that little warning he gave you when you first came?” Done with the cheeks. Pulling out another he held up Ruki’s face by the chin and started on the lips.
“You think he’s trying to upset you?”
“Still,” Fuwa said gently and easily wiped away the lipstick. Stepping back and observing his face free of makeup, he announced “I think it’s all gone.”
Ruki just peered up at him.
“Isao can be passive aggressive,” he explained. “Probably to him, I have to earn your presence here by protecting you from these things. If I bring it up to him, he will only use it against me.”
“Sounds low.”
Fuwa didn’t bother to respond to that comment. It was indeed a bit low. Lately since Isao’s diagnosis, he had been resorting to such tactics. Often, he was overly reckless and excessively dramatic. Before, he wouldn’t speak of death so freely and off-handily nor would he have invited all these sorts of people here. Despite his showy behavior, he preferred the small, quiet company of intellectuals to that of the wild and over the hill artists that he had out in the living room at the moment. And even though Katsura was a regular, one of these intellectuals, Fuwa felt infuriated by the fact that Isao had no problem putting Ruki in what he believed was the line of danger. Of course, Fuwa didn’t have much of a case. Ruki was technically an adult and despite Katsura’s lack of conventional morals, he wasn’t a rapist and he wouldn’t force himself on the young man.
“Ruki can I ask you something?” he looked up at him.
“Yes?”
“If that man, Katsura wanted to sleep with you, would you?”
Ruki was a bit shocked; he didn’t anticipate such a question. He wasn’t quite sure how he should answer it. He paused to think. “What sort of man is he?”
“A successful, handsome playwright. Perhaps, the best way to describe him is he is a libertine.”
“A what?”
“A libertine, a person who believes he is completely free even of morals.”
Ruki looked down. “Why would you ask me if I’d sleep with him?”
“So I could talk you out of it.”
“You think I would?”
“I have no idea to be honest. One’s sexuality changes dramatically from being 14 to 20. I wouldn’t think you a bad person if you did, rather…”
Ruki honestly didn’t know if he would or wouldn’t. He had yet to reject anyone who had made sexual passes at him but the only ones that he had in his short life had been girls his own age. He found it flattering actually. He didn’t consider himself sexually desirable-cute yes, but desirable was something else entirely.
“I wonder…I mean…I am curious what it’s like to be…you know…with a man…”
Fuwa sighed feeling somewhat defeated. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and folded his arms asked “Are you sexually attracted to men?”
“Sometimes but for the most part, not really.”
“I see…”
“Reita is getting married so, I can’t have him.” The older man looked up, a bit taken aback by the information. Reita was a bit young. “You’re the only-”
“Please, Ruki,” Fuwa cut him off.
He looked up at him challengingly. “I know,” Ruki said. “I understand.”
“Look, Katsura won’t hurt you physically but he is void of any true capability of love and he can never keep a promise. Don’t believe any of his lies and don’t fall for any of his games. My only reason for telling you to not sleep with him is I really dislike the man and what he represents.”
“Represents?”
Fuwa sighed. “I consider myself a very,” he paused to think of the word. “I think of myself as a very open minded man but I find his decadence to be destructive to the spirit. I know that may sound a bit strange but merely being in his presence, feels as if the air is being tainted with something dead. Perhaps, in this regard, I feel that there is something eternal about honesty and purity and I don’t really mean in a sexual way-and that there is something temporal and ill about things tied in with self-indulgence.”
“So, you are saying, he is the opposite of you in way?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly. I am not the great man you think. What makes us different is that unlike him, I believe morality should have to do with other people and not myself.”
Fuwa really didn’t like this man Ruki realized. “I see,” he nodded.
“That’s all I can really say,” Fuwa sighed. “Of course, you are free to do as you wish,” he looked up and forced a thin smile. In truth, he was worried. He knew deep down that he was feeling possessive over the boy. He wondered if he wasn’t being irrational. He loved Ruki deeply and to think that he would be with Katsura and under his influence filled him with dread if not a bit of jealousy. “By the way, you do realize that calling you Cupid is perverted?”
Ruki smiled. “A bit. You don’t think it fits?” he laughed.
Fuwa sighed. “I suppose it does. I always disliked Greek gods though,” he smiled at him.
“Sounds like something you would say,” he slid off the sink and sat down next to him. “I’d ask you why but I’m too tired for an explanation.”
“Then you should go to sleep,” Fuwa wrapped his arm around his shoulder and kissed him on the temple. “And about Reita,” he said pulling away. “I’m sure you know this but…just because he is getting married, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a fruitful friendship.”
Ruki smiled at him. “I know.”
***
Reita didn’t consider himself necessarily a reckless person-not that he even thought about it. When he had told his parents that he was leaving to Tokyo to play bass in a Visual Kei band-which he was yet to be a part of, they were completely taken aback. Mortified wouldn’t be the right word. Surprised is too weak of word however. Instead it was mix of those two things with the protective feeling of all loving parents. They knew that their son Akira wasn’t exactly a great student nor did he have the work ethic of even the most normal of people. He only really applied himself to something if he thought it was going to be fun or if it involved his friends. He seemingly had no mind for the future-of course, this was how they saw things. They didn’t realize that their son actually dreamt about being in a rock band and becoming a famous and successful musician. In fact, that dream was big enough to push out all other dreams. Simply there wasn’t room inside him enough to aspire for anything less.
Reckless. Perhaps that was what it was. He arrived on a highway bus to Tokyo a couple years ago with his duffle bag, his bass guitar, his amp, and an optimistic youthful heart. The latter is what really landed Reita his first entry into the underground world of Visual Kei. He was irresistibly likeable, ridiculously so and he quickly made friends and allies, all of which not only wanted him to succeed but wanted him in their band regardless of how good he was at the bass. He was invited to join several bands before even auditioning.
When he called home and told his parents of his successes, they were relieved to hear it. Knowing that Reita would never manage to hold a steady job, they would send him money every month. And when he called them in November of last year and told them that he had met a girl and he was going to get married, they both almost had a collective heart attack. For several weeks over the phone, they would repeatedly ask him if he was sure this was the right decision. They would bring up the fact that he was so young. Was he really ready to commit to this one person for the rest of his life?
Of course, Reita would say. In fact, the questions didn’t faze him in the least bit. He had little to no temper nor was he easily irritated. All their protestations fell against his ears as he heard them and slid away like rain against the glass of a window.
He was certain that he wanted to marry Kameyo.
Coming home to her now and finding her fast asleep on the sofa, a music station on the television playing videos in a loop, he still felt the same way despite the fact that he had met up again with Ruki. Picking up a blanket, he draped it over her and bent down to place a kiss on her forehead. It didn’t matter to him that many people couldn’t understand why he loved her or why he would want to marry a girl like her. Let them think what they want.
In a way, he could somewhat understand. There was a time when he would have never believed that he could feel this way for her. He knelt down and ran his finely shaped hands through her short hair. He remembered the moment that he fell in love with her.
They were sitting on the dirty cement on a city bridge, sharing a cigarette. Back then, they were just friends and Kameyo teased him about everyone liking him. She asked “Does anyone hate you?”
“Doubt it,” he joked.
“You’re a good guy.”
“I know.”
She laughed. In the bright yellow light of the late day, she actually looked strangely pretty then. “I wish I was a good person,” she said in all seriousness.
“You don’t think you are?”
“Not like you. I’m an asshole.” Their eyes met when she handed him the cigarette. “The only thing I’m good for is making people feel it’s okay to be one too. Oh and I’m funny but really only asshole funny. I can’t make a joke without hurting someone.”
“You aren’t as bad as you think you are.”
“Right,” she said with a nod. He could tell that meant that she didn’t think he was being serious, that his response was just a useless, typical one and for some reason, that made him feel angry inside at his inability to say the right thing, to be eloquent and profound. He sucked at words and at expressing himself. “Sorry. I’ll stop. I sound like a self-pitying loser. Suck it up and get over it, Kameyo. Want to know something crazy?” She looked at him excitedly.
“What?”
“When I was little, I wanted to be a fucking Superhero, like fucking Batman or Ultraman. HA!” She slapped her leg. “That was the last part of me that gave a fuck.”
“Really? Wow, you’re a tomboy aren’t you?”
“No I’m not,” she looked at him somewhat aggressively. “I’m not a tomboy. I’m a girl. I like girl things too, you know. I like gossip, baby animals, shitty love stories, cute boys and I want to be pretty. I’m a fucking girl, alright?”
He didn’t say anything. She seemed somewhat vulnerable. Her eyes were red and her expression soft. She must have realized it because she looked away from him ashamed.
“Whatever man,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I guess I mean to say that you don’t try to be anything you’re not.”
“Don’t fucking compliment me.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, but I don’t like it when people lie to me. You meant it.”
“Well. I’m sorry that I am an idiot.”
“I’m sorry you’re an idiot too,” she laughed at the comment. “I’m sorry! I just said that because it sounded like a good comeback,” she smiled at him, completely void of any of the hurt she had been feeling.
The current Reita sighed to himself. With her eyes closed, Kameyo said “You’re home.”
“You’re awake?”
“No, I’m talking in my sleep.”
“Wow. You never cease to amaze me.”
“Die.” He pretended to start choking as if an invisible hand was strangling him. Kameyo sitting up quickly, slapped him on the shoulder. “Bitch,” she said.
He laughed and lifting up his chin, waited for her to kiss him which without fail, she did, placing a sweet peck on his lips.
***
At noon from a mall payphone, Aoi called Uruha like he said he would but instead of talking about their date that night, he brought up news about the band. “I scheduled a time where we can go see Tomoi play. He is expecting us tomorrow night. Do you think you can make it?”
“Yeah. You should call the others and let them know.”
“Ugh…we need to have a meeting to figure out who is going to be the leader. I really don’t like the job,” he sighed. Uruha laughed slightly over the phone. “Alright well, I also wanted to let you know that since we have 4 out of 5 members, I’m going to let Koji and the others know that I’m leaving the band.”
“Do you think I should leave my band too?”
“That’s up to you. It might be a bit bitchass if suddenly you walk out and the next weekend you’re in a new band. They’ll know that you were conspiring to leave while you were still with them.”
“I don’t care.”
Aoi laughed. “Well, if you don’t care then do what you want. Why would you even want to stick around with them if you know you aren’t going to be playing with them anymore?”
“I don’t know…I guess I’ll leave them then. There really is no point.” Changing the subject, Uruha off-handily remarked “I wish Kai would join us. It feels strange that he isn’t especially since he plays drums.”
“Well, it might be a little selfish to ask him since Lie:Death is doing so well. Seeing as we are his friends, he might feel pressure to join us because we asked him to, you know? His band right now has a lot of things going for them and he has a shot at getting signed. To take that away from him just because it will be the 5 of us wouldn’t be right.”
“I understand…You don’t think we will get that?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…well, this might cross his mind and make him feel horrible for not wanting to join us and I don’t want him upset with himself.”
Uruha was quiet for a little while. “You’re a good friend to him, Aoi.”
He felt a bit embarrassed by the comment. “Well…I try…uh…about tonight…”
“You’re not cancelling on me, are you?” Uruha asked honestly.
“No! I just…you said you wanted to talk about it.”
Giving Aoi an address, Uruha asked if he could meet up with him there at 5 o’clock.
“Sure,” he said. “Um…Do you mind if I ask what we are doing?”
“I’ve never actually been on a real date before so…”
“So? You’re not taking me to museum right?”
“No. Apparently, people usually go eat something, go to movie and then maybe something else.”
“Something else?” Aoi asked suspiciously.
“It’s a surprise.”
“It’s a museum isn’t it?”
“Why do you think I will take you to a museum?”
“Sounds like something Uruha would be into.”
Laughing, he replied “I hate a lot of museums. You can’t touch anything.”
“Ah, your infamous grabby hands!”
“Please don’t blow me off.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. Kumiko says that happens a lot on first dates.”
“I don’t think we really count as your typical first date types, Uruha.”
“I know…I guess I’m paranoid.”
“Don’t be.”
“I hope you are the type that gives it up on the first date,” Uruha laughed.
“WOW! You’ve really grown a sense of humor over the years Mr. Takashima. I’m proud of you.”
“That wasn’t a joke,” he said, a hint of his laughter still in his voice.
“Ah…the grabby hands…” hearing the warning that he only a little time left from the payphone robot lady, Aoi searched his pockets for more change and finding none, reluctantly told Uruha that he had to go. “I’m out of money for the phone,” he said.
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Bye Hoshi-sama.”
“Bye Ducky-”
“Baby,” Uruha corrected.
“What?”
“It’s Ducky Baby. You remember that right?”
“Of course.” Aoi remembered. How could he forget? He just wasn’t ready to call him that. Calling him “Ducky Baby” was like saying ‘I love you.’ “Later,” he said quickly and hung up. Even though the moment was getting tense, Aoi still felt a pang of regret as he ended the phone call. A sense of emptiness came over him once Uruha’s presence was cut off. He stood there looking at the grey payphone suddenly aware of the amazing little fact that this little invention could bring him so close to him while he was so far away. Hanging up was like waking up from a dream.
What the fuck, Aoi? It’s a goddamn phone. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he was surprised to find that deep within one of them were several coins. Impulsively, he put them into the phone and dialed Uruha’s number.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hey.”
“Aoi?”
“I just wanted to uh…make sure I got that address down…” he said, thinking of the first thing that came to his mind. Uruha repeated it slowly back at him. “Okay. Got it,” Aoi smiled to no one.
“Anything else?”
“No, um…I’ll see you there beautiful. Oh, and can you do me a weird favor?” he was leaning against the phone. People walking past could tell that whoever he was talking to, it was obviously someone special. He looked like a man charmed by a love potion.
“What?”
“Can you say my name?”
“Your real name?”
“Aoi.”
“Aoi.”
“Again.”
“Aoi.”
“Again.”
“Aoi.”
“Now say it like you would if when you are having an orgasm.”
An old lady passing by, overhearing gave him a reprimanding look thinking that he was trying to have phone sex in the middle of a public and crowded mall.
“I don’t know if I can…I’m bad at acting…”
“Liar,” Aoi laughed.
Trying his best, Uruha closed his eyes and pretended that Aoi had his mouth on him. “Aoi~,” he said lustily.
Feeling a sharp feeling of desire shoot up in him at hearing Uruha’s voice saying his name, he let out a surprised “wow.”
“Was that good?”
“Wonderful.”
“Alright, I let you go now,” Aoi said, noticing the old lady glaring at him.
“Okay. Bye Aoi.”
“Bye Beautiful.”
Author: Zion Shadowlet
Beta: butterflysaga(the bitch)
Characters: Aoi, Uruha, Ruki, Reita, Kai and many OCs (Fuwa etc.)
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha and more~
Genre: Drama, Romance, Friendship, Comedy
Rating: NC17
Summary: Six years have passed since the summer at the Dazai Bright Future Retreat for Troubled Children. The boys meet in an unexpected way perhaps bound by fate in the underground world of Visual Kei. With broken hearts and promises; the boys-now young men look to regain some of what they lost by the wild and reckless pursuit of the same dream.
Previous Parts: Part 1.1 | Part 1.2 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4.1| Part 4.2| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7.1| Part 7.2| Part 8.1| Part 8.2| Part 9| Part 10| Part 11| Part 12| Part 13| Part 14
With his eyes shut tight, Ruki mumbled “You should use a make-up remover wipe” as Fuwa rubbed away at the makeup with a damp hand towel. He was failing so badly at it, that he was beginning to irritate the boy’s skin.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about this stuff,” Fuwa exhaled and let his hand drop away from this face. “Do you have any of those?” Ruki pointed to the side hutch and Fuwa turning toward it, searched it until he found the wipes. “I am assuming you use these.” The boy merely nodded yes as if it weren’t strange. “You look,” he paused and took in the sight: Ruki sitting there on the sink, red lipstick on his big round mouth and smudged blush all over his full cheeks. “Adorable,” he smiled despite the fact that he was still seething.
Ruki returned his smile and asked him “Why are you so mad?”
“Isao knows that that man is sexually loose and yet, he invites him to this little party of his despite the fact that he knows you are here,” he pulled out one of the wipes from the little plastic box they were contained within and walking back up Ruki, started to successfully clean his face of the blush.
“Maybe it didn’t cross his mind-”
“Oh yes, it did,” Fuwa cut him off. He was hell bent on removing the make-up. “You don’t remember that little warning he gave you when you first came?” Done with the cheeks. Pulling out another he held up Ruki’s face by the chin and started on the lips.
“You think he’s trying to upset you?”
“Still,” Fuwa said gently and easily wiped away the lipstick. Stepping back and observing his face free of makeup, he announced “I think it’s all gone.”
Ruki just peered up at him.
“Isao can be passive aggressive,” he explained. “Probably to him, I have to earn your presence here by protecting you from these things. If I bring it up to him, he will only use it against me.”
“Sounds low.”
Fuwa didn’t bother to respond to that comment. It was indeed a bit low. Lately since Isao’s diagnosis, he had been resorting to such tactics. Often, he was overly reckless and excessively dramatic. Before, he wouldn’t speak of death so freely and off-handily nor would he have invited all these sorts of people here. Despite his showy behavior, he preferred the small, quiet company of intellectuals to that of the wild and over the hill artists that he had out in the living room at the moment. And even though Katsura was a regular, one of these intellectuals, Fuwa felt infuriated by the fact that Isao had no problem putting Ruki in what he believed was the line of danger. Of course, Fuwa didn’t have much of a case. Ruki was technically an adult and despite Katsura’s lack of conventional morals, he wasn’t a rapist and he wouldn’t force himself on the young man.
“Ruki can I ask you something?” he looked up at him.
“Yes?”
“If that man, Katsura wanted to sleep with you, would you?”
Ruki was a bit shocked; he didn’t anticipate such a question. He wasn’t quite sure how he should answer it. He paused to think. “What sort of man is he?”
“A successful, handsome playwright. Perhaps, the best way to describe him is he is a libertine.”
“A what?”
“A libertine, a person who believes he is completely free even of morals.”
Ruki looked down. “Why would you ask me if I’d sleep with him?”
“So I could talk you out of it.”
“You think I would?”
“I have no idea to be honest. One’s sexuality changes dramatically from being 14 to 20. I wouldn’t think you a bad person if you did, rather…”
Ruki honestly didn’t know if he would or wouldn’t. He had yet to reject anyone who had made sexual passes at him but the only ones that he had in his short life had been girls his own age. He found it flattering actually. He didn’t consider himself sexually desirable-cute yes, but desirable was something else entirely.
“I wonder…I mean…I am curious what it’s like to be…you know…with a man…”
Fuwa sighed feeling somewhat defeated. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and folded his arms asked “Are you sexually attracted to men?”
“Sometimes but for the most part, not really.”
“I see…”
“Reita is getting married so, I can’t have him.” The older man looked up, a bit taken aback by the information. Reita was a bit young. “You’re the only-”
“Please, Ruki,” Fuwa cut him off.
He looked up at him challengingly. “I know,” Ruki said. “I understand.”
“Look, Katsura won’t hurt you physically but he is void of any true capability of love and he can never keep a promise. Don’t believe any of his lies and don’t fall for any of his games. My only reason for telling you to not sleep with him is I really dislike the man and what he represents.”
“Represents?”
Fuwa sighed. “I consider myself a very,” he paused to think of the word. “I think of myself as a very open minded man but I find his decadence to be destructive to the spirit. I know that may sound a bit strange but merely being in his presence, feels as if the air is being tainted with something dead. Perhaps, in this regard, I feel that there is something eternal about honesty and purity and I don’t really mean in a sexual way-and that there is something temporal and ill about things tied in with self-indulgence.”
“So, you are saying, he is the opposite of you in way?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly. I am not the great man you think. What makes us different is that unlike him, I believe morality should have to do with other people and not myself.”
Fuwa really didn’t like this man Ruki realized. “I see,” he nodded.
“That’s all I can really say,” Fuwa sighed. “Of course, you are free to do as you wish,” he looked up and forced a thin smile. In truth, he was worried. He knew deep down that he was feeling possessive over the boy. He wondered if he wasn’t being irrational. He loved Ruki deeply and to think that he would be with Katsura and under his influence filled him with dread if not a bit of jealousy. “By the way, you do realize that calling you Cupid is perverted?”
Ruki smiled. “A bit. You don’t think it fits?” he laughed.
Fuwa sighed. “I suppose it does. I always disliked Greek gods though,” he smiled at him.
“Sounds like something you would say,” he slid off the sink and sat down next to him. “I’d ask you why but I’m too tired for an explanation.”
“Then you should go to sleep,” Fuwa wrapped his arm around his shoulder and kissed him on the temple. “And about Reita,” he said pulling away. “I’m sure you know this but…just because he is getting married, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a fruitful friendship.”
Ruki smiled at him. “I know.”
***
Reita didn’t consider himself necessarily a reckless person-not that he even thought about it. When he had told his parents that he was leaving to Tokyo to play bass in a Visual Kei band-which he was yet to be a part of, they were completely taken aback. Mortified wouldn’t be the right word. Surprised is too weak of word however. Instead it was mix of those two things with the protective feeling of all loving parents. They knew that their son Akira wasn’t exactly a great student nor did he have the work ethic of even the most normal of people. He only really applied himself to something if he thought it was going to be fun or if it involved his friends. He seemingly had no mind for the future-of course, this was how they saw things. They didn’t realize that their son actually dreamt about being in a rock band and becoming a famous and successful musician. In fact, that dream was big enough to push out all other dreams. Simply there wasn’t room inside him enough to aspire for anything less.
Reckless. Perhaps that was what it was. He arrived on a highway bus to Tokyo a couple years ago with his duffle bag, his bass guitar, his amp, and an optimistic youthful heart. The latter is what really landed Reita his first entry into the underground world of Visual Kei. He was irresistibly likeable, ridiculously so and he quickly made friends and allies, all of which not only wanted him to succeed but wanted him in their band regardless of how good he was at the bass. He was invited to join several bands before even auditioning.
When he called home and told his parents of his successes, they were relieved to hear it. Knowing that Reita would never manage to hold a steady job, they would send him money every month. And when he called them in November of last year and told them that he had met a girl and he was going to get married, they both almost had a collective heart attack. For several weeks over the phone, they would repeatedly ask him if he was sure this was the right decision. They would bring up the fact that he was so young. Was he really ready to commit to this one person for the rest of his life?
Of course, Reita would say. In fact, the questions didn’t faze him in the least bit. He had little to no temper nor was he easily irritated. All their protestations fell against his ears as he heard them and slid away like rain against the glass of a window.
He was certain that he wanted to marry Kameyo.
Coming home to her now and finding her fast asleep on the sofa, a music station on the television playing videos in a loop, he still felt the same way despite the fact that he had met up again with Ruki. Picking up a blanket, he draped it over her and bent down to place a kiss on her forehead. It didn’t matter to him that many people couldn’t understand why he loved her or why he would want to marry a girl like her. Let them think what they want.
In a way, he could somewhat understand. There was a time when he would have never believed that he could feel this way for her. He knelt down and ran his finely shaped hands through her short hair. He remembered the moment that he fell in love with her.
They were sitting on the dirty cement on a city bridge, sharing a cigarette. Back then, they were just friends and Kameyo teased him about everyone liking him. She asked “Does anyone hate you?”
“Doubt it,” he joked.
“You’re a good guy.”
“I know.”
She laughed. In the bright yellow light of the late day, she actually looked strangely pretty then. “I wish I was a good person,” she said in all seriousness.
“You don’t think you are?”
“Not like you. I’m an asshole.” Their eyes met when she handed him the cigarette. “The only thing I’m good for is making people feel it’s okay to be one too. Oh and I’m funny but really only asshole funny. I can’t make a joke without hurting someone.”
“You aren’t as bad as you think you are.”
“Right,” she said with a nod. He could tell that meant that she didn’t think he was being serious, that his response was just a useless, typical one and for some reason, that made him feel angry inside at his inability to say the right thing, to be eloquent and profound. He sucked at words and at expressing himself. “Sorry. I’ll stop. I sound like a self-pitying loser. Suck it up and get over it, Kameyo. Want to know something crazy?” She looked at him excitedly.
“What?”
“When I was little, I wanted to be a fucking Superhero, like fucking Batman or Ultraman. HA!” She slapped her leg. “That was the last part of me that gave a fuck.”
“Really? Wow, you’re a tomboy aren’t you?”
“No I’m not,” she looked at him somewhat aggressively. “I’m not a tomboy. I’m a girl. I like girl things too, you know. I like gossip, baby animals, shitty love stories, cute boys and I want to be pretty. I’m a fucking girl, alright?”
He didn’t say anything. She seemed somewhat vulnerable. Her eyes were red and her expression soft. She must have realized it because she looked away from him ashamed.
“Whatever man,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I guess I mean to say that you don’t try to be anything you’re not.”
“Don’t fucking compliment me.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, but I don’t like it when people lie to me. You meant it.”
“Well. I’m sorry that I am an idiot.”
“I’m sorry you’re an idiot too,” she laughed at the comment. “I’m sorry! I just said that because it sounded like a good comeback,” she smiled at him, completely void of any of the hurt she had been feeling.
The current Reita sighed to himself. With her eyes closed, Kameyo said “You’re home.”
“You’re awake?”
“No, I’m talking in my sleep.”
“Wow. You never cease to amaze me.”
“Die.” He pretended to start choking as if an invisible hand was strangling him. Kameyo sitting up quickly, slapped him on the shoulder. “Bitch,” she said.
He laughed and lifting up his chin, waited for her to kiss him which without fail, she did, placing a sweet peck on his lips.
***
At noon from a mall payphone, Aoi called Uruha like he said he would but instead of talking about their date that night, he brought up news about the band. “I scheduled a time where we can go see Tomoi play. He is expecting us tomorrow night. Do you think you can make it?”
“Yeah. You should call the others and let them know.”
“Ugh…we need to have a meeting to figure out who is going to be the leader. I really don’t like the job,” he sighed. Uruha laughed slightly over the phone. “Alright well, I also wanted to let you know that since we have 4 out of 5 members, I’m going to let Koji and the others know that I’m leaving the band.”
“Do you think I should leave my band too?”
“That’s up to you. It might be a bit bitchass if suddenly you walk out and the next weekend you’re in a new band. They’ll know that you were conspiring to leave while you were still with them.”
“I don’t care.”
Aoi laughed. “Well, if you don’t care then do what you want. Why would you even want to stick around with them if you know you aren’t going to be playing with them anymore?”
“I don’t know…I guess I’ll leave them then. There really is no point.” Changing the subject, Uruha off-handily remarked “I wish Kai would join us. It feels strange that he isn’t especially since he plays drums.”
“Well, it might be a little selfish to ask him since Lie:Death is doing so well. Seeing as we are his friends, he might feel pressure to join us because we asked him to, you know? His band right now has a lot of things going for them and he has a shot at getting signed. To take that away from him just because it will be the 5 of us wouldn’t be right.”
“I understand…You don’t think we will get that?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…well, this might cross his mind and make him feel horrible for not wanting to join us and I don’t want him upset with himself.”
Uruha was quiet for a little while. “You’re a good friend to him, Aoi.”
He felt a bit embarrassed by the comment. “Well…I try…uh…about tonight…”
“You’re not cancelling on me, are you?” Uruha asked honestly.
“No! I just…you said you wanted to talk about it.”
Giving Aoi an address, Uruha asked if he could meet up with him there at 5 o’clock.
“Sure,” he said. “Um…Do you mind if I ask what we are doing?”
“I’ve never actually been on a real date before so…”
“So? You’re not taking me to museum right?”
“No. Apparently, people usually go eat something, go to movie and then maybe something else.”
“Something else?” Aoi asked suspiciously.
“It’s a surprise.”
“It’s a museum isn’t it?”
“Why do you think I will take you to a museum?”
“Sounds like something Uruha would be into.”
Laughing, he replied “I hate a lot of museums. You can’t touch anything.”
“Ah, your infamous grabby hands!”
“Please don’t blow me off.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. Kumiko says that happens a lot on first dates.”
“I don’t think we really count as your typical first date types, Uruha.”
“I know…I guess I’m paranoid.”
“Don’t be.”
“I hope you are the type that gives it up on the first date,” Uruha laughed.
“WOW! You’ve really grown a sense of humor over the years Mr. Takashima. I’m proud of you.”
“That wasn’t a joke,” he said, a hint of his laughter still in his voice.
“Ah…the grabby hands…” hearing the warning that he only a little time left from the payphone robot lady, Aoi searched his pockets for more change and finding none, reluctantly told Uruha that he had to go. “I’m out of money for the phone,” he said.
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Bye Hoshi-sama.”
“Bye Ducky-”
“Baby,” Uruha corrected.
“What?”
“It’s Ducky Baby. You remember that right?”
“Of course.” Aoi remembered. How could he forget? He just wasn’t ready to call him that. Calling him “Ducky Baby” was like saying ‘I love you.’ “Later,” he said quickly and hung up. Even though the moment was getting tense, Aoi still felt a pang of regret as he ended the phone call. A sense of emptiness came over him once Uruha’s presence was cut off. He stood there looking at the grey payphone suddenly aware of the amazing little fact that this little invention could bring him so close to him while he was so far away. Hanging up was like waking up from a dream.
What the fuck, Aoi? It’s a goddamn phone. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he was surprised to find that deep within one of them were several coins. Impulsively, he put them into the phone and dialed Uruha’s number.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hey.”
“Aoi?”
“I just wanted to uh…make sure I got that address down…” he said, thinking of the first thing that came to his mind. Uruha repeated it slowly back at him. “Okay. Got it,” Aoi smiled to no one.
“Anything else?”
“No, um…I’ll see you there beautiful. Oh, and can you do me a weird favor?” he was leaning against the phone. People walking past could tell that whoever he was talking to, it was obviously someone special. He looked like a man charmed by a love potion.
“What?”
“Can you say my name?”
“Your real name?”
“Aoi.”
“Aoi.”
“Again.”
“Aoi.”
“Again.”
“Aoi.”
“Now say it like you would if when you are having an orgasm.”
An old lady passing by, overhearing gave him a reprimanding look thinking that he was trying to have phone sex in the middle of a public and crowded mall.
“I don’t know if I can…I’m bad at acting…”
“Liar,” Aoi laughed.
Trying his best, Uruha closed his eyes and pretended that Aoi had his mouth on him. “Aoi~,” he said lustily.
Feeling a sharp feeling of desire shoot up in him at hearing Uruha’s voice saying his name, he let out a surprised “wow.”
“Was that good?”
“Wonderful.”
“Alright, I let you go now,” Aoi said, noticing the old lady glaring at him.
“Okay. Bye Aoi.”
“Bye Beautiful.”