Fanfic: Shattered
Title: Shattered
Author: yume16
Disclaimer: If the boys were mine they would be married. Obviously, they are not *duhhhhh*
Beta: She is busy again^^
Pairing(s): Kita.....fuji
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst!
Warnings: This is not a Valentine's fic! Pure angst! An inappropriate time to post this, I know. Rather short by the way.
Summary: Kitayama makes a decision for them.
Author Notes: I figured I shouldn't post this at Valentine's Day because it's pure angst, so I am doing it now (it's still the 13th here^^). There is really nothing nice in this.
Shattered
He growled. Kitayama was pissing him off so much.
“Look Taisuke, I am sorry, but I can’t have you coming out of my flat at odd hours…or coming in for that matter.”
“Oh come on. What is the big deal?” Fujigaya pressed out through clenched teeth.
“Johnny already gave me a warning…he said no ‘boy’s-scandals’. I can already be happy about getting away with being gay.”
“I am your boyfriend and I am not allowed to come to you and you are too scared to get caught coming to me. What am I supposed to make of this?”
“I know…I know.” Kitayama rubbed his temple. He hated the look on the older one’s face…he could already sense a break up around the corner.
“Let’s talk about this later, okay? I have an interview now.” With that Kitayama successfully avoided him and left the room.
Fujigaya bit his bottom lip because he was not going to cry over some stupid, unimportant, non-significant, non-live changing bullshit because that was what it was. Bullshit.
So what if they broke up any moment. He had lived almost 25 years without dating Kitayama. They only dated for 8 weeks so far. No big deal.
So why did it feel like his heart was about to shatter to pieces? If Kitayama had no problem breaking up with him, he would have even less!
“Hey Taisuke, is something the matter?” Yokoo must have entered the room. He tried to send the other a look that told him he wanted to be alone, but before he managed, an angry tear stole its way down his cheek.
“Taisuke?” Yokoo asked carefully. The other knew he hated to be seen when he was vulnerable.
“Leave me.” Fujigaya tried his best to suppress the tears and surly wiped his face with his sleeve.
“You know, sometimes it is better to just let it out…” Yokoo seemed to be caught between wanting to stay and listening to his order.
“Not this time.” He pressed out and turned his back to him. Closing his eyes, he could do nothing but let the tears roll; drop down from his chin on his shirt or even floor.
Suddenly, there were familiar arms that wrapped around him from behind and a chest offering support.
He laughed at that…or rather hiccupped. Yokoo just was so…Yokoo all the time.
“Did something happen with Kitamitsu? The two of you have been weird the past week?” The other tried to prod carefully, but he really didn’t want to talk.
Fujigaya lowered his head a little. He had gone through so many break ups. Why was it this time just so painful?
He knew.
Because he was in love.
He was in love with this idiot and now that their relationship was coming to an end without him being ready for it…it felt like sheer torture. He wanted to take his heart out and drown it in the next best river to get rid of it, but you couldn’t live without your heart…so he needed to bear with it.
Yeah…he needed to find a way to get over it.
Decidedly, he pushed Yokoo’s warm and comforting arms away and wiped his tears away resolute.
He has gotten through worst. This was going to be a piece of cake. Who needed that guy anyway? And as boyfriend no less?
Yokoo looked worriedly at him, but he only patted his shoulder reassuringly.
“I’ll go wash my face. See you in a bit.”
“Taisuke…”
“It’s okay, don’t worry.”
It’s okay? He mulled over his own words as he went as fast as possible to the closest washbasin. Luckily, he didn’t meet anyone. He was not really in the mood to explain his face.
It’s okay…no, it was everything but okay…but it would be…had to be…couldn’t be…His thoughts were going in a direction he didn’t like so he decided to think about cake. Sadly, the thought of cake didn’t cheer him up as much as it used to do. He needed the real thing…but he couldn’t really go and buy some. So, a chocolate bar had to do before he would be done for today.
Buying two in the canteen, he went back to their dressing room while munching on it. Yokoo looked at him as he entered, but didn’t say anything more. They were not alone.
Tamamori was having a quarrel with Miyata who wanted to bargain for a night at Tamamori’s house…and preferably in his bed.
Somehow he couldn’t watch those two. Sure, Tamamori was a rock and didn’t budge nor give in, but he could see the content and pleased look in his eyes he didn’t manage to conceal. Tamamori liked the attention Miyata gave him and basked in it.
It was their usual game. They played cat and mouse.
In a way, it was how they worked. Miyata was as loyal as any admirer could be and while Tamamori refused him almost constantly, Miyata was the only admirer he allowed to be that close…and Miyata was well aware of that.
He sighed. The jealousy that was threatening to eat him from the inside, wrapped its clutches around his heart and each second tightened its grip a tiny bit more, till he was scared to breathe…in case it wasn’t possible anymore.
Chocolate. Chocolate was better than any lover. Why would a person need a lover if they had chocolate?
The second he had eaten the first bar, he started stuffing his face with the second one and ignored Yokoo’s knowing look. Fine then if the other knew, that way there was no need for him to explain anything.
In a way, he was lucky. He got to do a photo shoot with Senga, not Kitayama. That alone was a wonder that was worth celebrating and while Senga was not as cuddly with him as with Nikaido, he got enough hugs to work him through the day.
As it was getting dark, he went to their dressing room to get his stuff so that he could leave. What he didn’t expect was a person waiting for him.
His stomach made a handstand the second he realized who it was. He was even less ready for this than he had been before…but then again, who was ever ready for a break up when in love.
Because in love he was.
“Taisuke…”
The sad look…the guiltiness…the avoiding of eye-contact…the pity? Was it pity in Kitayama’s eyes? When yes, pity for him? For their broken relationship? For himself? Pity for what?
Fujigaya clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to hear it. It was inevitable for it to happen, but he didn’t want to hear the words. Words were definite. Yet, he needed it.
“I am sorry.”
It stung. Those words carried a bigger meaning than one might think. I am sorry…How often were those three words said without a care, but not this time. This time they carried the meaning of the world for him. They hung thick in the air, created a barrier between them he didn’t know how to tear down.
He straightened himself.
“I am not.” He said it unwavering. It was the truth.
“What?”
“I am not sorry.”
Kitayama’s eyes widened a tad. They had never been a couple of many words. They communicated with each other, of course, but not with words…but now everything was said.
He took his bag and left Kitayama where he was. He was not sorry, because he was not sorry that they had happened.
In his car, he looked at the steering wheel in his hands…He could control the car, but he couldn’t control his life…Just now he had lost control of life…or did he maybe never have it?
If he hadn’t cried in Yokoo’s arms earlier, maybe he would have now. The way it was, he was numb.
It had happened, but he had known anyway. So what was the change? The doubtlessness? Maybe.
He was not sure how he had got home, but he did, because this was his room. It was time to move out. His mother had looked at him weirdly when he had refused dinner.
He needed personal space, space to mourn over his dead love. It was dead, wasn’t it? A love that didn’t get nurtured died…because everything that needed to be nurtured and didn’t, died. With what was he supposed to nurture it?
Nothingness?
He stood still in his room. Listening.
His mother’s soothing voice, his father’s laugh, his brothers’ argue…where was his noise? He was still.
His hand wandered to his chest and halted over his heart. He wanted to make sure that only his love had died.
Maybe he was a melancholic man…more so than he admitted.
His heart was there. He could feel it faintly. Fujigaya looked at his own fingers clutching his shirt. They were tanned. Of course.
He needed something to do. There was the sudden strong urge to throw, kick, destroy. Totally against the storm of feelings, he was feeling, he sat down calmly on his bed.
Time passed. He was scared to move, not sure what would happen if he did. Would he burst into tears? His heart shatter even more? Nothing at all? Somehow that would be the cruellest. Nothing at all…
He must have fallen in some kind of trance because morning came. A shower would save him. He wouldn’t show Kitayama in the least how hard their break up had hit him.
He was not some delusional teenager anymore who believed they still could work it out…Kitayama’s image was way too important for the older one for that. Or his career. It scared him to realize that he would have given up all that just for…No, he couldn’t think that way anymore.
No thinking at all was the best.
Everything he did was routine. Shower, brush his teeth, get dressed, check his hair, eat some breakfast, put on his shoes, leave.
He all did it without fail. Though, he didn’t trust himself enough to drive so he chose the train. The journey was a blur to him, but he got off at the right stop and went to the Jimusho building. As he entered the elevator, he realized that life hated him.
Kitayama stood in it, most probably coming from the garage. It was awkward to say the least. His heart was beating traitorously in his chest. It hurt. Why did it still hold on to this dead love?
No more love, please. The feeling should be gone.
“Can’t we be…?”
”No, don’t say it!” Fujigaya interrupted Kitayama sharply.
As if.
They would never ever become friends in this lifetime.
Kitayama kept silent after that and he decided to pretend. Pretend there was no one there, no one that could have broken his heart.
Wasn’t a heart a rather fragile thing? And still so terrible stubborn…