[Snibble] Easier to walk away.
Title: Easier to walk away.
Info: Takaki-centric
869w; PG - Angsty. Somewhat inspired by hikarinoniji when she said she occasionally dreams of Takaki leaving JUMP. And so Takaki leaving JUMP fic was born. Uhm. I don't know. I just got rather upset last night and vomited this out. Also, omoikkiri said I should try out more character study type fics. Dunno if this counts, but... well, you know.
To walk away from the thing he loved the most, he never would have imagined it possible.
But as he signs all the paperwork and moves to start gathering his things from the dressing room, he can feel their eyes on him and he doesn’t care.
“You could have told us…” There’s a tremble in Daiki’s voice but he shuts that out too. The cynical part of him whispers that Daiki should have known ages ago, when he’d stopped showing up for rehearsals.
He continues on, industriously stuffing clothes and other odds and ends that he’s inevitably forgotten in the room over the past year or so.
“Why are you leaving?” It’s Yamada and he feels an almost pang of regret before closing up a little more, stashing that throb of emotion away. He’d never meant to hurt them, but it’d be like ripping off a bandaid; it would hurt like hell before everything healed up and left nothing but a faint scar.
They’ll forget he’d even been there eventually. He's sure of that much.
“Yuuyan…”
He tries to shut them out, fights the urge to stand up and tell them how he really feels; what he really thinks. What he wants. Don’t call me that. They had no right, no reason to call him that anymore. No more Yuuyan. No more Takaki Yuya. No more, no more. Nothing.
Nothing but severed ties and small regrets collecting dust in the small corners of their dressing room.
When his silent wall proves unfailing, they begin to leave the room, drifting away with soft whispers, all of them about him, none of them for him. The wall solidifies.
Yabu and Yuuto are still there when he stands, shouldering the bag.
Yabu looks betrayed and he supposes he has betrayed Yabu, in a way. “Why are you doing this?”
There are no words to say anymore, he reminds himself. Just one last look to remember the way Yabu’s eyes light with fire. Yabu had never been perfect, none of them ever had been, but he feels a small stab of disappointment at the question, lips stilled in response. No words, he reminded himself as he turns around to give the room one last look. Yabu finally leaves.
Slowly he looks over his shoulder, meets Yuuto’s eyes for the last time. There’s no pity, no confusion, and no anger, just the warmth that has always been in Yuuto’s eyes. Yuuto opens his mouth, eyes flickering as he tries to find the words he wants to say. But there are no words, so Yuuto just nods to him before leaving the room.
He’s alone and everything that’s to be done has been done. He stands there, soaking up the memories for a moment. He can hear a group of Juniors passing by, laughing and joking, and he lets the past wash over him, taking him back. He gathers every second up, breathes in... It’s not just the bad things, but the good times are there too, along with all the moments in between, all the wasted time. He gathers it all up in his hands, holds it close like something precious-
And slowly lets it all go.
“Goodbye,” he says to the room, but he says it to them all. To his bandmates who will forge a new path without him, to the staff who has always taken care of him, and to all the familiar faces he’d probably never see again. Some he would, some would always have a place in his heart, active, beating, warm. But others were to be placed away, the feelings and smiles locked up, to become dormant.
He leaves, feeling eyes on him, but he slides past them all. Now wasn’t the time to be noticing him anymore. Out of the past, into the brightly lit streets.
He makes it to a bench before the reality hits him. It catches him in the chest, stealing his breath and crushing his heart. He sinks down, face buried in his hands as the tears finally fall, the strong façade failing as every small moment, memory, emotion, crashes down on him. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds.
Tears are cleansing, so they say, and in a way, it’s true. When he’s finishes and wipes his eyes, thankful that it’s so dark, nobody would notice anyways, he feels exhausted and drained. But his hands stop trembling and his mind is open, blank; his breathing is steady.
The walk home is uneventful, there’s nothing waiting for him when he unlocks the door, nor will there be a new adventure waiting on his windowsill in the morning.
He may have just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Or he might have just saved himself.
Exhausted, he falls into bed, leaving his shoes on as he pulls the covers around him, cocooning himself. He’s not trying to suspend himself from reality, he just wants the artificial warmth of his blanket’s embrace.
The realization had come too late, to all of them, himself included.
Info: Takaki-centric
869w; PG - Angsty. Somewhat inspired by hikarinoniji when she said she occasionally dreams of Takaki leaving JUMP. And so Takaki leaving JUMP fic was born. Uhm. I don't know. I just got rather upset last night and vomited this out. Also, omoikkiri said I should try out more character study type fics. Dunno if this counts, but... well, you know.
To walk away from the thing he loved the most, he never would have imagined it possible.
But as he signs all the paperwork and moves to start gathering his things from the dressing room, he can feel their eyes on him and he doesn’t care.
“You could have told us…” There’s a tremble in Daiki’s voice but he shuts that out too. The cynical part of him whispers that Daiki should have known ages ago, when he’d stopped showing up for rehearsals.
He continues on, industriously stuffing clothes and other odds and ends that he’s inevitably forgotten in the room over the past year or so.
“Why are you leaving?” It’s Yamada and he feels an almost pang of regret before closing up a little more, stashing that throb of emotion away. He’d never meant to hurt them, but it’d be like ripping off a bandaid; it would hurt like hell before everything healed up and left nothing but a faint scar.
They’ll forget he’d even been there eventually. He's sure of that much.
“Yuuyan…”
He tries to shut them out, fights the urge to stand up and tell them how he really feels; what he really thinks. What he wants. Don’t call me that. They had no right, no reason to call him that anymore. No more Yuuyan. No more Takaki Yuya. No more, no more. Nothing.
Nothing but severed ties and small regrets collecting dust in the small corners of their dressing room.
When his silent wall proves unfailing, they begin to leave the room, drifting away with soft whispers, all of them about him, none of them for him. The wall solidifies.
Yabu and Yuuto are still there when he stands, shouldering the bag.
Yabu looks betrayed and he supposes he has betrayed Yabu, in a way. “Why are you doing this?”
There are no words to say anymore, he reminds himself. Just one last look to remember the way Yabu’s eyes light with fire. Yabu had never been perfect, none of them ever had been, but he feels a small stab of disappointment at the question, lips stilled in response. No words, he reminded himself as he turns around to give the room one last look. Yabu finally leaves.
Slowly he looks over his shoulder, meets Yuuto’s eyes for the last time. There’s no pity, no confusion, and no anger, just the warmth that has always been in Yuuto’s eyes. Yuuto opens his mouth, eyes flickering as he tries to find the words he wants to say. But there are no words, so Yuuto just nods to him before leaving the room.
He’s alone and everything that’s to be done has been done. He stands there, soaking up the memories for a moment. He can hear a group of Juniors passing by, laughing and joking, and he lets the past wash over him, taking him back. He gathers every second up, breathes in... It’s not just the bad things, but the good times are there too, along with all the moments in between, all the wasted time. He gathers it all up in his hands, holds it close like something precious-
And slowly lets it all go.
“Goodbye,” he says to the room, but he says it to them all. To his bandmates who will forge a new path without him, to the staff who has always taken care of him, and to all the familiar faces he’d probably never see again. Some he would, some would always have a place in his heart, active, beating, warm. But others were to be placed away, the feelings and smiles locked up, to become dormant.
He leaves, feeling eyes on him, but he slides past them all. Now wasn’t the time to be noticing him anymore. Out of the past, into the brightly lit streets.
He makes it to a bench before the reality hits him. It catches him in the chest, stealing his breath and crushing his heart. He sinks down, face buried in his hands as the tears finally fall, the strong façade failing as every small moment, memory, emotion, crashes down on him. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds.
Tears are cleansing, so they say, and in a way, it’s true. When he’s finishes and wipes his eyes, thankful that it’s so dark, nobody would notice anyways, he feels exhausted and drained. But his hands stop trembling and his mind is open, blank; his breathing is steady.
The walk home is uneventful, there’s nothing waiting for him when he unlocks the door, nor will there be a new adventure waiting on his windowsill in the morning.
He may have just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Or he might have just saved himself.
Exhausted, he falls into bed, leaving his shoes on as he pulls the covers around him, cocooning himself. He’s not trying to suspend himself from reality, he just wants the artificial warmth of his blanket’s embrace.
The realization had come too late, to all of them, himself included.