A sight for the blind eyes.
Subtleties in Uruha’s words confuse Reita all the more.
For chivakaza .
✖
The wooden chair creaked loudly as Reita dragged it across the floor. “She dumped me, finally.”
Uruha only looked up when the screech assaulting his ears halted; not even the noise-cancelling earphones were safe from the deliberate attention-grabbing. He sighed and raised a brow. His eyes darted back to the phone, resuming his game but giving the other enough courtesy and lowering the volume down. “About time.”
“You could show a little interest, you know.”
His coffee had gone cold, Uruha realized, but ignored it still. “I could, but I don’t. You seem to have no interest about it either.”
It was just a split second but Reita’s eyes narrowed. Uruha’s words hit so close to home even if he refused to believed it. Refusing to believe it doesn’t make it any less false, but he called the other because he was upset, right? Right. “Excuse you, I do actually care. We’ve been together for two years now and if that isn’t commitment, then I don’t know what is.”
A pause. “I care. I’m upset. Exactly why I asked to meet up.” Somehow he couldn’t convince even himself and Uruha only raised his brow towards him in his uncertainty, in that taunting ‘sure you are’ manner. It pissed Reita off all the more to remember that he spent half his life hanging out with this snarky asshole.
“Sure you are.” Uruha simply shrugged, and Reita felt small under those prying eyes. “So what did you want me to do? Ask you how you’re doing and try to get you to talk about your feelings?”
Reita grunted and glared.
“Come to think of it, when did we even start going to cafés for meet ups? Are we supposed to go to the salon too and-”
“Shut up, you’ve made your point.” Uruha looked pretty pleased even as he had his face practically buried on his phone. “You said you were around the area and this is the only place I could remember where we could talk.”
Uruha’s eyebrow raised again. “You couldn’t talk to me outside the store? Or even on the phone? Is there even anything else you wanted to say?”
Reita hated it when Uruha made perfect sense in that condescending tone. On other occasions he didn’t really care if the other talked to him like he was an idiot. What he couldn’t stand is when Uruha spoke like he knew more than Reita knew about himself. It scared him that it just may be the case and once again he found himself stupefied by Uruha’s words.
“Well I thought maybe we could hang out?”
“Hang out? What you meant to say is be a replacement for your date.”
Reita frowned. “You think of our friendship that lowly?”
The response was a nonchalant shrug. “Eh.”
Reita’s frown deepened and somehow he had the urge to splash the coffee on Uruha’s smug face. He drank it in one gulp instead. Not that it would make any difference because whatever retaliation he made against Uruha always went unnoticed. That’s how it always has been.
“You’re a lousy friend then.”
Uruha set his phone down this time. “Oh yeah? You’re the one who dragged me out in the middle of shopping - guitar shopping - for your problems,” he spat, with matching air quotes to emphasize the insignificance of Reita’s dilemma. Seeing his cold coffee all gone, he just looked at Reita and the other huffed indignantly.
Try as he might to think of something to throw back at Uruha, he couldn’t. He felt as if there was an alarm rushing him, a countdown for Uruha’s next explosion. The telltale purse of Uruha’s lips told Reita that he wasn’t finished yet.
“Look. Don’t give me bullshit about commitment because you never were committed to her ever since you got together in the first place. Do you remember how you even met?”
Reita fell silent.
“Yeah, she was a bootycall. It was pretty convenient for you to get together with her because she looks and acts nothing like a bootycall: decent, pretty, independent, all that jazz. But at the end of the day she’s just interested in your fame.”
“She wasn’t-” Uruha threw him a pointed look before he could even finish his sentence.
“It’s pretty much business. You buy her time, she gives you services. Maybe she found a richer guy or something. You don’t really care and you’re just acting like you do. You’re bummed because there’s nobody to date or fuck right at this moment, and you’re bored. You’re a… what is it again? Creature of comfort?”
Reita rolled his eyes and tried not to seem as if he was listening to Uruha, despite the other’s words hitting him deep. “It’s creature of habit.” He sighed. “She wasn’t just a bootycall, and I wasn’t just a cash cow, alright?” At least not after knowing her better. She even admitted to falling in love to me, and you just know when a person’s not lying to you.”
Uruha wanted to laugh at Reita’s naivety, but he let the other talk. They were silent for quite some time.
“What?”
“Oh, that’s it?” Uruha pushed himself off the chair’s backrest and stretched a bit. “Well, I could swear it was comfort. You’re not exactly a creature of habit. If you were, you would’ve been nicer to her, like you’re nice to everybody else. No matter if she was in love with you or using you, you treated her the same. Maybe you’re not treating her like crap, but you’re always preoccupied by something else. Work, sure. It’s understandable. But if you really want something, you’d make time for it. You’re just keeping her around because you got used to it and that’s what’s comfortable for you.” He glanced at his phone, noting the time, before slipping it to his pocket.
“You’re far too stuck in your comfort zone to even look for someone better. Once you find one good thing and a good enough perspective on it, you leave it like that and become comfortable with it. What you don’t realize is comfort can be terribly blinding.”
“So are you telling me to take a risk?” At this point, Reita was genuinely confused. Uruha’s words made sense and at the same time it didn’t. He knew the other wasn’t an eloquent person - too straightforward bordering tactless. Uruha was talking like he was hinting to something else entirely, but Reita couldn’t be sure. “Are you saying I should run after her?”
Uruha shot a blank stare at him and then he knew he was completely missing the point. “No, and I know you wouldn’t run after her. Your pride is at stake. All I’m saying is, because you’re too comfortable with where you are right now, you don’t try to risk anything. Hell, you don’t even try anything else.”
“I still don’t get it.” It didn’t cross his mind to tell Uruha to get to the point, because he’d been comfortable enough that Uruha would do so without being told to.
“Okay, here. You got dumped by your girlfriend. You’ve got no date or whatever in the afternoon, so now you come to me, the person you usually are with. You want to be in your comfort zone, even if that means going to cafés and talking about our feelings even if we don’t do that when sober.”
Reita narrowed his eyes again. It was frustrating how Uruha was putting things as bluntly as he could, and yet something was telling him that there was more to those words than being literal. Perhaps Uruha was right in the fact that he’s already comfortable with him being so straightforward. Reita just shook his head.
“All this lecture because I disturbed your shopping?”
Uruha opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but closed it immediately, sighed, shook his head, and smiled just a bit. “Yeah, pretty much.” Without any other word he stood up, dusting his sleeve, and pat the other on the shoulder. “Think about it.” Then he started to walk away.
“Hey! What am I supposed to do now?”
Uruha shot him a glance and shrugged for the last time. “Pay for the coffee you consumed. Leave me in peace with my guitar shopping.” And then he was gone.
Reita slumped into the wooden chair for a few good minutes, staring at the porcelain cup while racking his brain for possible interpretations of Uruha’s words. He felt that if Uruha wanted to tell him something else, he’d say it sooner or later.
With that comforting thought in mind, he paid for his coffee and left.
For chivakaza .
✖
The wooden chair creaked loudly as Reita dragged it across the floor. “She dumped me, finally.”
Uruha only looked up when the screech assaulting his ears halted; not even the noise-cancelling earphones were safe from the deliberate attention-grabbing. He sighed and raised a brow. His eyes darted back to the phone, resuming his game but giving the other enough courtesy and lowering the volume down. “About time.”
“You could show a little interest, you know.”
His coffee had gone cold, Uruha realized, but ignored it still. “I could, but I don’t. You seem to have no interest about it either.”
It was just a split second but Reita’s eyes narrowed. Uruha’s words hit so close to home even if he refused to believed it. Refusing to believe it doesn’t make it any less false, but he called the other because he was upset, right? Right. “Excuse you, I do actually care. We’ve been together for two years now and if that isn’t commitment, then I don’t know what is.”
A pause. “I care. I’m upset. Exactly why I asked to meet up.” Somehow he couldn’t convince even himself and Uruha only raised his brow towards him in his uncertainty, in that taunting ‘sure you are’ manner. It pissed Reita off all the more to remember that he spent half his life hanging out with this snarky asshole.
“Sure you are.” Uruha simply shrugged, and Reita felt small under those prying eyes. “So what did you want me to do? Ask you how you’re doing and try to get you to talk about your feelings?”
Reita grunted and glared.
“Come to think of it, when did we even start going to cafés for meet ups? Are we supposed to go to the salon too and-”
“Shut up, you’ve made your point.” Uruha looked pretty pleased even as he had his face practically buried on his phone. “You said you were around the area and this is the only place I could remember where we could talk.”
Uruha’s eyebrow raised again. “You couldn’t talk to me outside the store? Or even on the phone? Is there even anything else you wanted to say?”
Reita hated it when Uruha made perfect sense in that condescending tone. On other occasions he didn’t really care if the other talked to him like he was an idiot. What he couldn’t stand is when Uruha spoke like he knew more than Reita knew about himself. It scared him that it just may be the case and once again he found himself stupefied by Uruha’s words.
“Well I thought maybe we could hang out?”
“Hang out? What you meant to say is be a replacement for your date.”
Reita frowned. “You think of our friendship that lowly?”
The response was a nonchalant shrug. “Eh.”
Reita’s frown deepened and somehow he had the urge to splash the coffee on Uruha’s smug face. He drank it in one gulp instead. Not that it would make any difference because whatever retaliation he made against Uruha always went unnoticed. That’s how it always has been.
“You’re a lousy friend then.”
Uruha set his phone down this time. “Oh yeah? You’re the one who dragged me out in the middle of shopping - guitar shopping - for your problems,” he spat, with matching air quotes to emphasize the insignificance of Reita’s dilemma. Seeing his cold coffee all gone, he just looked at Reita and the other huffed indignantly.
Try as he might to think of something to throw back at Uruha, he couldn’t. He felt as if there was an alarm rushing him, a countdown for Uruha’s next explosion. The telltale purse of Uruha’s lips told Reita that he wasn’t finished yet.
“Look. Don’t give me bullshit about commitment because you never were committed to her ever since you got together in the first place. Do you remember how you even met?”
Reita fell silent.
“Yeah, she was a bootycall. It was pretty convenient for you to get together with her because she looks and acts nothing like a bootycall: decent, pretty, independent, all that jazz. But at the end of the day she’s just interested in your fame.”
“She wasn’t-” Uruha threw him a pointed look before he could even finish his sentence.
“It’s pretty much business. You buy her time, she gives you services. Maybe she found a richer guy or something. You don’t really care and you’re just acting like you do. You’re bummed because there’s nobody to date or fuck right at this moment, and you’re bored. You’re a… what is it again? Creature of comfort?”
Reita rolled his eyes and tried not to seem as if he was listening to Uruha, despite the other’s words hitting him deep. “It’s creature of habit.” He sighed. “She wasn’t just a bootycall, and I wasn’t just a cash cow, alright?” At least not after knowing her better. She even admitted to falling in love to me, and you just know when a person’s not lying to you.”
Uruha wanted to laugh at Reita’s naivety, but he let the other talk. They were silent for quite some time.
“What?”
“Oh, that’s it?” Uruha pushed himself off the chair’s backrest and stretched a bit. “Well, I could swear it was comfort. You’re not exactly a creature of habit. If you were, you would’ve been nicer to her, like you’re nice to everybody else. No matter if she was in love with you or using you, you treated her the same. Maybe you’re not treating her like crap, but you’re always preoccupied by something else. Work, sure. It’s understandable. But if you really want something, you’d make time for it. You’re just keeping her around because you got used to it and that’s what’s comfortable for you.” He glanced at his phone, noting the time, before slipping it to his pocket.
“You’re far too stuck in your comfort zone to even look for someone better. Once you find one good thing and a good enough perspective on it, you leave it like that and become comfortable with it. What you don’t realize is comfort can be terribly blinding.”
“So are you telling me to take a risk?” At this point, Reita was genuinely confused. Uruha’s words made sense and at the same time it didn’t. He knew the other wasn’t an eloquent person - too straightforward bordering tactless. Uruha was talking like he was hinting to something else entirely, but Reita couldn’t be sure. “Are you saying I should run after her?”
Uruha shot a blank stare at him and then he knew he was completely missing the point. “No, and I know you wouldn’t run after her. Your pride is at stake. All I’m saying is, because you’re too comfortable with where you are right now, you don’t try to risk anything. Hell, you don’t even try anything else.”
“I still don’t get it.” It didn’t cross his mind to tell Uruha to get to the point, because he’d been comfortable enough that Uruha would do so without being told to.
“Okay, here. You got dumped by your girlfriend. You’ve got no date or whatever in the afternoon, so now you come to me, the person you usually are with. You want to be in your comfort zone, even if that means going to cafés and talking about our feelings even if we don’t do that when sober.”
Reita narrowed his eyes again. It was frustrating how Uruha was putting things as bluntly as he could, and yet something was telling him that there was more to those words than being literal. Perhaps Uruha was right in the fact that he’s already comfortable with him being so straightforward. Reita just shook his head.
“All this lecture because I disturbed your shopping?”
Uruha opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but closed it immediately, sighed, shook his head, and smiled just a bit. “Yeah, pretty much.” Without any other word he stood up, dusting his sleeve, and pat the other on the shoulder. “Think about it.” Then he started to walk away.
“Hey! What am I supposed to do now?”
Uruha shot him a glance and shrugged for the last time. “Pay for the coffee you consumed. Leave me in peace with my guitar shopping.” And then he was gone.
Reita slumped into the wooden chair for a few good minutes, staring at the porcelain cup while racking his brain for possible interpretations of Uruha’s words. He felt that if Uruha wanted to tell him something else, he’d say it sooner or later.
With that comforting thought in mind, he paid for his coffee and left.