(multi-chapter) second chances - chapter three
Title: Second Chances
Author: fingeredheart
Pairing: Akame, Kame x OC (friendship), Pin (friendship), hint of Kame x Yamapi (past)
Genre: Romance, friendship, angst, drama, AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer(s): Nothing's mine except the plot.
Summary: “Because,” Kame breathes out, face pale, lips drawing together into a line (he suddenly looks tired, Jin thinks, washed out by the world). “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
Chapter One l Chapter Two l
A/N: Just wrote this and wanted to post it up because I probably won't be able to tomorrow, but I want to stay consistent with updates so I have motivation to finish this :) thanks for the comments last chapter! Will reply to them when I get a chance. Enjoy this one ♥ and please comments! They're really very much appreciated.
Chapter Three --
“You…” Kame whips around to see the connection forming in Jin’s eyes, a slow, dawning realization. “You’re the childhood friend,” he releases the words breathlessly, like he’s been told it’s something forbidden, something precious.
“Is that your title for me, Tomohisa? You can’t even use my real name?” He attempts, in vain, to keep the lingering bitterness of his voice, his mind, but his sight blurs at the edges with memories, dreamy, painful fears from his past flooding back to him.
Just as indignant, Yamapi’s eyes flare. “You’re the one that left,” he states rather calmly, and Kame’s hands clench into involuntary fists, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm. “You left me alone to rot, Kazuya.”
“You don’t look very rotten to me.” Glancing up and down, Kame surveys the classy, casual style of Yamapi’s clothing, the earring glinting from behind waves of brown hair, completely unfamiliar in comparison to the reminiscence of Yamapi’s features, his voice. “Don’t lie. I know you didn’t miss me.”
This time, it’s Yamapi’s hands that ball into fists. “You don’t know anything,” he grits out, but Kame only raises an eyebrow, as if measuring the amount of plausibility in his acting skills. “You’re such a brat, Kamenashi. You’ve always been one.”
Opening his mouth in a sardonic smile, Kame claps his hands loudly. “Ah, so the truth finally comes out!” He gives a short, bitter laugh. “And to think it took me all these years to get it out of you.” His lips twist, and he barely notices Jin’s wince at the corner of his eye. “Thank you for finally letting me know, Yamashita.”
Still in fury, Yamapi makes another move forward, but Jin’s arm cuts across his just in time. “Okay, you two. I know you’re glad to see each other and all, but enough of this public adoration.” He glares pointedly at the both of them (mostly Yamapi), before turning to face Kame fully and block Yamapi from the younger man’s line of view. “Thank you for letting me know about my father’s condition, Kamenashi,” he bites out, his eyes willing Kame not to say anything else to ruin the atmosphere. “I will be there as soon as I can make it, which will not be today, but in the near future.” His fingers are gripping Yamapi’s forearm tightly, an obvious warning, and Kame can’t help but give a small, sour smirk when he notices.
“If you say so, Akanishi. I’m holding you to it,” he says, eyes plainly flashing as he glances back up to meet Jin’s gaze. “And I trust you’ll be making the trip alone?”
Flicking a look back at Yamapi, Jin nods curtly. “Alone as can be,” he replies, watching as Kame acknowledges his answer before turning on his heel and walking briskly down the hallway. Both Jin and Yamapi are silent as the door to the stairwell swings, clashing loudly against the doorframe and clicking shut behind Kame’s fading footsteps.
“You,” Yamapi spits out, wrenching out of Jin’s grasp. “What the hell was that for? I told you everything, and now that you finally meet him, you’re just going to let him walk away like that? Oh, don’t tell me, did he tell you he loves you too? Are you in love with him now?” Fury bubbles inside of Yamapi’s eyes, words harsh and searing.
With a sigh, Jin drags his friend back into the apartment, locking the door before placing both hands on the older man’s shoulders. “Pi,” he wills, and sets himself eye-level in the other man’s face. “Pi, look at me.”
Reluctantly, Yamapi complies, eyes shooting daggers into Jin’s gaze. Rolling his eyes, Jin shakes the other’s shoulders a little. “Come on, Pi. Take a deep breath. You’re letting your anger get to you.”
Slowly, sucking in a deep breath, Yamapi’s shoulders begin to sag. His eyes flicker with unspoken sorrow that seeps in to replace the fury as Jin watches him carefully. “Jin,” he whispers, words streaked with pain. “Why was I such a coward? I let my parents dictate my actions, even though I wanted it, wanted him. And then he left me. He left me, goddammit, and our all promises, our childhood together - ”
“Yamapi,” Jin’s hiss is enough to make his best friend stop from tumbling into another rage. When he’s confident he has the other’s attention, Jin draws back, hands falling to his sides. “There’s something I’ve always meant to ask you.” He waits, watching as Yamapi nods silently at him in confirmation to continue. “You always say you wanted him, and you regret telling him you didn’t.” Jin pauses again. “But…”
“But?” Yamapi prompts, now clearly curious.
“But,” Jin says again, confidence draining from his voice. “You didn’t love him, did you?”
---
The phone rings. His head in his hands, Kame groans, burying deeper into the comfort of his clean, fluffy hotel bed sheets, head immersed in a cloud of ache and miserable memories. When his cell phone only continues ringing persistently, though, he curses out loud, grabbing the device without even bothering to look at the caller ID.
“What do you want?”
“Whoa, somebody’s grouchy.” It’s Erika. Heaving a sigh, Kame rolls over onto his back, flopping his free arm to his side as he stares remorsefully up at the ceiling. “You okay over there?”
Shutting his eyes, Kame inhales the scent of the vanilla air freshener that still lingers in the air. “Fine,” he reassures, “perfectly fine” (though he’s positive he sounds the farthest thing from convincing).
“Well, I hope you are,” Erika’s states plainly, “Because your special patient is not.”
Immediately alert, Kame sits up on the bed, ignoring the slight creak from his rapid shift of weight. “What? Why? What’s wrong?”
“He,” she pauses. “He seems to be in a much later stage than we originally expected. I’m not very clear on the circumstances, but some of the other doctors took a look at it, and they all frowned and asked where you were. Kamenashi…” she sounds a bit stricken, and Kame inhales sharply. “You really just need to get here now and take care of him. You, and whomever else is planning on coming.”
Kame opens his mouth to refute, to tell her that he no longer wants to have anything to do with Jin (and Yamapi, especially, for that matter), but he finds he doesn’t have the heart to say it. “Okay,” he agrees quietly, and waits for the soft affirmation from his nurse before the other line clicks dead.
“Okay,” he repeats to himself, throwing the phone back on the bedside table. Just as he does, though, it begins to buzz again, louder and even more urgent-sounding. With a loud groan, Kame looks at it, contemplating throwing it out the window to earn some peace. Chancing a look at the screen, he frowns - his phone doesn’t seem to recognize it.
“Hello,” he presses the phone to his ear for the second time in the past five minutes, but the voice that greets him this time is altogether different.
“Hey, it’s me.” Jin seems awfully distant and uncomfortable, a large contrast from his snippy, direct banter with Kame earlier today, before Yamapi walked in. Crossing his arms, Kame waits for an explanation, something Jin seems all too eager to deliver and get over with.
“So, uh,” the rock star sounds surprisingly unsure of himself, Kame notes. “I was wondering when you were planning on leaving? To go back, I mean?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Kame answers shortly, and he listens for the telltale uncertainty in Jin’s breathing, the formulation of an adequate reply.
“Would you…” there’s a hesitation, and Kame can almost see Jin biting his lower lip thoughtfully. “Would you mind if I came with you?”
The hints of a smile threaten at the corner of Kame’s lips at the words, but he refuses to relent, still fighting for a bit of teasing. “Are you sure, Akanishi? You’re not to regret trusting me?”
To his surprise, Jin sighs. “Actually, that’s another thing. Look, I know there’s…been hurt between you and Tomohisa. But right now, he’s my best friend, and I reserve the right to judge him the way I have been, not by you.”
Snorting, Kame leans back against the headboard. “I never said you couldn’t, did I?”
“Kamenashi, just hear me out for once, will you?” Irritation spills into Jin’s voice, and Kame bites his lip to prevent himself from throwing out further bitterness. “I reserve the right to judge him as I want, but I wanted to say…I also reserve the right to judge you as I want to, and not by his standards. He may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I always agree with him. I know he’s made mistakes, and has done certain things that he regrets doing. And I know you’ve made mistakes too, whether you realize it or not.” There’s a quiet breath. “ I’m not going to preach to you, or hate you because you’ve hurt him, just like I’m not preaching to him for hurting you. What’s between you and him is none of my business. But…”
Speechless, Kame only finds himself echoing the word. “But?”
“But,” Jin replies, almost breathlessly, “I know we’ve only met for two days, but for whatever strange, undeniable reason, I’d really like to get to know you better, apart from my father and your image as the childhood friend.”
Kame freezes, fingers halting from where they are tangling absently around the loose threads in the hem of his shirt. He can hear the shallowness of Jin’s breaths on the other end, the anticipation and anxiety hanging loosely in the aftermath. Involuntarily, a smile spreads across his features, lips curving upwards before he can regain himself. Even so, he tries his best to prevent the smile from showing in his words.
“See you tomorrow morning at four-thirty, Akanishi.”
He doesn’t leave the other man room to reply before closing his phone (and for some reason, he feels a slight lifting of the burden from his shoulders).
---
He’s in a room - an awfully, painfully familiar room, filled to the top with white-washed walls and drawn curtains, portraits of old, famous men scattered across the wall. He’s leaning against a large, rectangular desk, mahogany smooth and perfect beneath his fingertips as he hooks his thumbs into his jean pockets.
“Kazuya,” the voice is stern, coming from the direction of the swivel office chair that has been placed behind the desk, back facing him. “You know why I’ve called you here.”
There are tears streaming down his cheeks, hot paths that refuse to stop, even as he finds himself avidly wiping them away, fingers scrubbing uselessly at the tears stains on his skin (at the stain inside his heart, the one he can’t wash away, no matter how hard he tries). “I love him,” his own voice replies, too sure, too certain, even above the quiet sniffles and involuntary choke that wraps around his throat. “You don’t understand. You never understand, why I love baseball, why I love him. Why is it always about you?” Even to his own ears, he sounds like a child, whining and pleading - but the borderline is wavy now, inexistent in his mind, a boundary he’s always tried so hard not to cross and failed every time, only because he can’t see where exactly it lies. “It’s my own life. I’m not a child anymore.”
“Then stop sounding like one!” With a loud bang, a heavy palm falls onto the surface of the desk, knuckles large and wrinkled. “I’m only doing what’s best for you, and you know that.”
“You are not,” Unstoppable, Kame watches himself lean over the desk indignantly, eyes burning (it’s almost as if he’s left his body and is watching from above, eerily). “You don’t know what’s best for me. Ever since Mom died, all you care about is your stupid company with your stupid business partner and your stupid clients. Why don’t you just go live with them, then? I’m sure your business partner would be glad to let you in. Akanishi, isn’t that his name? Why don’t you just call him up right now?” On a rampage, Kame grabs the nearest business card off the desk, swiping a finger over the phone numbers. “Here, I’ll dial it for you.”
“Don’t you dare,” bold fingers snatch the card from his - his father’s voice is clearer now, filled with rage. “You are a disgrace to this family, Kazuya.”
Fingers still in the same position, Kame moves to look up, vision hazy and blurring at the corners. “Might as well be,” he hears himself answer nonchalantly, “It’s not like I’m any better off being like you, anyway.” There’s a shout, and the door slams open as if on cue - but everything seems to be falling away, distinct voices and yells surrounding him.
His vision turns black, and the noises fade into the distance.
---
Kame wakes up to a throbbing headache and his alarm screeching at him, red digital numbers signifying he no longer has any time to sleep. With a heavy breath, he pulls himself out of the covers, and tries to block the familiar dream from his mind. (And he tells himself, for perhaps the millionth time, that this is the only thing left for him to do to know that he has done at least one thing right.)
Author: fingeredheart
Pairing: Akame, Kame x OC (friendship), Pin (friendship), hint of Kame x Yamapi (past)
Genre: Romance, friendship, angst, drama, AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer(s): Nothing's mine except the plot.
Summary: “Because,” Kame breathes out, face pale, lips drawing together into a line (he suddenly looks tired, Jin thinks, washed out by the world). “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
Chapter One l Chapter Two l
A/N: Just wrote this and wanted to post it up because I probably won't be able to tomorrow, but I want to stay consistent with updates so I have motivation to finish this :) thanks for the comments last chapter! Will reply to them when I get a chance. Enjoy this one ♥ and please comments! They're really very much appreciated.
Chapter Three --
“You…” Kame whips around to see the connection forming in Jin’s eyes, a slow, dawning realization. “You’re the childhood friend,” he releases the words breathlessly, like he’s been told it’s something forbidden, something precious.
“Is that your title for me, Tomohisa? You can’t even use my real name?” He attempts, in vain, to keep the lingering bitterness of his voice, his mind, but his sight blurs at the edges with memories, dreamy, painful fears from his past flooding back to him.
Just as indignant, Yamapi’s eyes flare. “You’re the one that left,” he states rather calmly, and Kame’s hands clench into involuntary fists, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his palm. “You left me alone to rot, Kazuya.”
“You don’t look very rotten to me.” Glancing up and down, Kame surveys the classy, casual style of Yamapi’s clothing, the earring glinting from behind waves of brown hair, completely unfamiliar in comparison to the reminiscence of Yamapi’s features, his voice. “Don’t lie. I know you didn’t miss me.”
This time, it’s Yamapi’s hands that ball into fists. “You don’t know anything,” he grits out, but Kame only raises an eyebrow, as if measuring the amount of plausibility in his acting skills. “You’re such a brat, Kamenashi. You’ve always been one.”
Opening his mouth in a sardonic smile, Kame claps his hands loudly. “Ah, so the truth finally comes out!” He gives a short, bitter laugh. “And to think it took me all these years to get it out of you.” His lips twist, and he barely notices Jin’s wince at the corner of his eye. “Thank you for finally letting me know, Yamashita.”
Still in fury, Yamapi makes another move forward, but Jin’s arm cuts across his just in time. “Okay, you two. I know you’re glad to see each other and all, but enough of this public adoration.” He glares pointedly at the both of them (mostly Yamapi), before turning to face Kame fully and block Yamapi from the younger man’s line of view. “Thank you for letting me know about my father’s condition, Kamenashi,” he bites out, his eyes willing Kame not to say anything else to ruin the atmosphere. “I will be there as soon as I can make it, which will not be today, but in the near future.” His fingers are gripping Yamapi’s forearm tightly, an obvious warning, and Kame can’t help but give a small, sour smirk when he notices.
“If you say so, Akanishi. I’m holding you to it,” he says, eyes plainly flashing as he glances back up to meet Jin’s gaze. “And I trust you’ll be making the trip alone?”
Flicking a look back at Yamapi, Jin nods curtly. “Alone as can be,” he replies, watching as Kame acknowledges his answer before turning on his heel and walking briskly down the hallway. Both Jin and Yamapi are silent as the door to the stairwell swings, clashing loudly against the doorframe and clicking shut behind Kame’s fading footsteps.
“You,” Yamapi spits out, wrenching out of Jin’s grasp. “What the hell was that for? I told you everything, and now that you finally meet him, you’re just going to let him walk away like that? Oh, don’t tell me, did he tell you he loves you too? Are you in love with him now?” Fury bubbles inside of Yamapi’s eyes, words harsh and searing.
With a sigh, Jin drags his friend back into the apartment, locking the door before placing both hands on the older man’s shoulders. “Pi,” he wills, and sets himself eye-level in the other man’s face. “Pi, look at me.”
Reluctantly, Yamapi complies, eyes shooting daggers into Jin’s gaze. Rolling his eyes, Jin shakes the other’s shoulders a little. “Come on, Pi. Take a deep breath. You’re letting your anger get to you.”
Slowly, sucking in a deep breath, Yamapi’s shoulders begin to sag. His eyes flicker with unspoken sorrow that seeps in to replace the fury as Jin watches him carefully. “Jin,” he whispers, words streaked with pain. “Why was I such a coward? I let my parents dictate my actions, even though I wanted it, wanted him. And then he left me. He left me, goddammit, and our all promises, our childhood together - ”
“Yamapi,” Jin’s hiss is enough to make his best friend stop from tumbling into another rage. When he’s confident he has the other’s attention, Jin draws back, hands falling to his sides. “There’s something I’ve always meant to ask you.” He waits, watching as Yamapi nods silently at him in confirmation to continue. “You always say you wanted him, and you regret telling him you didn’t.” Jin pauses again. “But…”
“But?” Yamapi prompts, now clearly curious.
“But,” Jin says again, confidence draining from his voice. “You didn’t love him, did you?”
---
The phone rings. His head in his hands, Kame groans, burying deeper into the comfort of his clean, fluffy hotel bed sheets, head immersed in a cloud of ache and miserable memories. When his cell phone only continues ringing persistently, though, he curses out loud, grabbing the device without even bothering to look at the caller ID.
“What do you want?”
“Whoa, somebody’s grouchy.” It’s Erika. Heaving a sigh, Kame rolls over onto his back, flopping his free arm to his side as he stares remorsefully up at the ceiling. “You okay over there?”
Shutting his eyes, Kame inhales the scent of the vanilla air freshener that still lingers in the air. “Fine,” he reassures, “perfectly fine” (though he’s positive he sounds the farthest thing from convincing).
“Well, I hope you are,” Erika’s states plainly, “Because your special patient is not.”
Immediately alert, Kame sits up on the bed, ignoring the slight creak from his rapid shift of weight. “What? Why? What’s wrong?”
“He,” she pauses. “He seems to be in a much later stage than we originally expected. I’m not very clear on the circumstances, but some of the other doctors took a look at it, and they all frowned and asked where you were. Kamenashi…” she sounds a bit stricken, and Kame inhales sharply. “You really just need to get here now and take care of him. You, and whomever else is planning on coming.”
Kame opens his mouth to refute, to tell her that he no longer wants to have anything to do with Jin (and Yamapi, especially, for that matter), but he finds he doesn’t have the heart to say it. “Okay,” he agrees quietly, and waits for the soft affirmation from his nurse before the other line clicks dead.
“Okay,” he repeats to himself, throwing the phone back on the bedside table. Just as he does, though, it begins to buzz again, louder and even more urgent-sounding. With a loud groan, Kame looks at it, contemplating throwing it out the window to earn some peace. Chancing a look at the screen, he frowns - his phone doesn’t seem to recognize it.
“Hello,” he presses the phone to his ear for the second time in the past five minutes, but the voice that greets him this time is altogether different.
“Hey, it’s me.” Jin seems awfully distant and uncomfortable, a large contrast from his snippy, direct banter with Kame earlier today, before Yamapi walked in. Crossing his arms, Kame waits for an explanation, something Jin seems all too eager to deliver and get over with.
“So, uh,” the rock star sounds surprisingly unsure of himself, Kame notes. “I was wondering when you were planning on leaving? To go back, I mean?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Kame answers shortly, and he listens for the telltale uncertainty in Jin’s breathing, the formulation of an adequate reply.
“Would you…” there’s a hesitation, and Kame can almost see Jin biting his lower lip thoughtfully. “Would you mind if I came with you?”
The hints of a smile threaten at the corner of Kame’s lips at the words, but he refuses to relent, still fighting for a bit of teasing. “Are you sure, Akanishi? You’re not to regret trusting me?”
To his surprise, Jin sighs. “Actually, that’s another thing. Look, I know there’s…been hurt between you and Tomohisa. But right now, he’s my best friend, and I reserve the right to judge him the way I have been, not by you.”
Snorting, Kame leans back against the headboard. “I never said you couldn’t, did I?”
“Kamenashi, just hear me out for once, will you?” Irritation spills into Jin’s voice, and Kame bites his lip to prevent himself from throwing out further bitterness. “I reserve the right to judge him as I want, but I wanted to say…I also reserve the right to judge you as I want to, and not by his standards. He may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I always agree with him. I know he’s made mistakes, and has done certain things that he regrets doing. And I know you’ve made mistakes too, whether you realize it or not.” There’s a quiet breath. “ I’m not going to preach to you, or hate you because you’ve hurt him, just like I’m not preaching to him for hurting you. What’s between you and him is none of my business. But…”
Speechless, Kame only finds himself echoing the word. “But?”
“But,” Jin replies, almost breathlessly, “I know we’ve only met for two days, but for whatever strange, undeniable reason, I’d really like to get to know you better, apart from my father and your image as the childhood friend.”
Kame freezes, fingers halting from where they are tangling absently around the loose threads in the hem of his shirt. He can hear the shallowness of Jin’s breaths on the other end, the anticipation and anxiety hanging loosely in the aftermath. Involuntarily, a smile spreads across his features, lips curving upwards before he can regain himself. Even so, he tries his best to prevent the smile from showing in his words.
“See you tomorrow morning at four-thirty, Akanishi.”
He doesn’t leave the other man room to reply before closing his phone (and for some reason, he feels a slight lifting of the burden from his shoulders).
---
He’s in a room - an awfully, painfully familiar room, filled to the top with white-washed walls and drawn curtains, portraits of old, famous men scattered across the wall. He’s leaning against a large, rectangular desk, mahogany smooth and perfect beneath his fingertips as he hooks his thumbs into his jean pockets.
“Kazuya,” the voice is stern, coming from the direction of the swivel office chair that has been placed behind the desk, back facing him. “You know why I’ve called you here.”
There are tears streaming down his cheeks, hot paths that refuse to stop, even as he finds himself avidly wiping them away, fingers scrubbing uselessly at the tears stains on his skin (at the stain inside his heart, the one he can’t wash away, no matter how hard he tries). “I love him,” his own voice replies, too sure, too certain, even above the quiet sniffles and involuntary choke that wraps around his throat. “You don’t understand. You never understand, why I love baseball, why I love him. Why is it always about you?” Even to his own ears, he sounds like a child, whining and pleading - but the borderline is wavy now, inexistent in his mind, a boundary he’s always tried so hard not to cross and failed every time, only because he can’t see where exactly it lies. “It’s my own life. I’m not a child anymore.”
“Then stop sounding like one!” With a loud bang, a heavy palm falls onto the surface of the desk, knuckles large and wrinkled. “I’m only doing what’s best for you, and you know that.”
“You are not,” Unstoppable, Kame watches himself lean over the desk indignantly, eyes burning (it’s almost as if he’s left his body and is watching from above, eerily). “You don’t know what’s best for me. Ever since Mom died, all you care about is your stupid company with your stupid business partner and your stupid clients. Why don’t you just go live with them, then? I’m sure your business partner would be glad to let you in. Akanishi, isn’t that his name? Why don’t you just call him up right now?” On a rampage, Kame grabs the nearest business card off the desk, swiping a finger over the phone numbers. “Here, I’ll dial it for you.”
“Don’t you dare,” bold fingers snatch the card from his - his father’s voice is clearer now, filled with rage. “You are a disgrace to this family, Kazuya.”
Fingers still in the same position, Kame moves to look up, vision hazy and blurring at the corners. “Might as well be,” he hears himself answer nonchalantly, “It’s not like I’m any better off being like you, anyway.” There’s a shout, and the door slams open as if on cue - but everything seems to be falling away, distinct voices and yells surrounding him.
His vision turns black, and the noises fade into the distance.
---
Kame wakes up to a throbbing headache and his alarm screeching at him, red digital numbers signifying he no longer has any time to sleep. With a heavy breath, he pulls himself out of the covers, and tries to block the familiar dream from his mind. (And he tells himself, for perhaps the millionth time, that this is the only thing left for him to do to know that he has done at least one thing right.)