Like a Mermaid [Oneshot]
Title: Like a Mermaid
Fandom: Hey! Say! JUMP
Pairing: Yamada/Chinen, Takaki/Chinen
Rating: PG-15
Wordcount: 5740
Warnings: Angst, mental illness, post-breakup, unrequited love, hints of suicidal thoughts, mermaids (yeah that's right), open ending
Notes: This is based on the song lyrics from Stupid, which is honestly SO GOOD? Screw that PV, the song is epic. I wanted to write something dark and water related from it, and came up with this. As usual, nobody will read it, but I like it a lot.
It was unexpected. None of his defenses were up, he was caught entirely off guard. Maybe that's what destroyed him, how it hit him dead on with no way of protecting himself.
It was like the panic shot straight through the walls of his heart, into its chambers and infected his entire blood system with only a few rapid heartbeats. The cold seeping into his capillaries, exchanging place with oxygen and choking him from the inside. Keeping him from breathing. Painting the image he saw right into his visionary center and making sure he'd see the same one every time he closed his eyes from then on.
Yamada draws a deep, slow breath, watching his shaky exhale chrystallize in the cool night air. The panic threatens to break back out into his blood stream again, his heart speeding up just thinking about it. It's like all of his cells hurt, like the darkness is trying to break through their thin walls and wreck his entire body.
He draws another breath, trying to actively think of nothing but breathing. In, and out. In, and out again. He can do that.
“Woah, look at that!” Yuto exclaims, pointing in amazement at a colourful fish floating by, minding its own business while people admire it. “So cool!”
It's hot blue and orange, swirling colours that look so vivid it's making Yamada wonder if it'd glow in the dark. It looks awfully toxic.
“There's a lot of shouting and very little drawing here!” Kamiki counters, and Yuto rolls his eyes and shoves at him, making him draw a pencil line straight through his coral sketch. “HEY!”
“You'll need colour anyway, you'll cover that.” Yuto says unapologetically, focus back on the tank.
It's a beginner's art class running over the summer, Yuto and Kamiki were already taking it, and Yamada figured it might take his mind off things. Yamada's not amazing at drawing, but he's damn willing to improve. Especially since Yuto's currently better than him.
“I really made an effort with this though...” Kamiki sighs, reaching for the eraser with a glare at Yuto.
“It looks good.” Yamada encourages.
The assignment is to draw a painting with inspiration from the ocean, and so about half the class considered that a great excuse to go to the aquarium for the day. The summer heat would make it just as easy to go to the beach, but at least here you can actually see fish in between the families with little kids.
Yamada's half heartedly started a shark picture, but the shark that circled the big cylinder tank has apparently decided to lie down to sleep, because it doesn't pass by anymore.
Kamiki smiles at him, says thank you and glances at Yamada's paper to compliment him back. But Yamada doesn't hear it.
He's frozen, his entire body shutting down, his lungs unable to expand and his heart racing too fast for the blood to reach his peripheral body parts. He wonders if he's about to pass out or throw up.
The image latches onto his retina slowly, and he can't blink, feeling like someone's physically etching it in with a solding pen.
That deceivingly beautiful smile, dark eyes filled with wonder and tan skin reflecting the blue from the water tank. The dark hair is shorter, a more grown up style, and he's wearing some light blue linen shirt and ripped jeans. He points at something in the tank with slender fingers, a silver watch on his wrist, and he turns his head the slightest to look at the taller man right behind him, so close that they're almost touching.
He looks good and Yamada's wants to die.
The man next to him is pretty, dyed wavy hair and one of those flawless model smiles, even if it looks a little goofy. He's got a striped shirt and shorts, sunglasses shoved onto his head and tousling his hair the slightest, but it only looks effortless and beachy. He looks older too.
It feels like slow motion when the man lays sturdy hands on those hips and leans in to say something, looking in the pointed direction with a small smile.
“Hey, what's up- Oh.”
Yamada finally picks up sound over the constant beeping noise and the sensation of his pulse beating around his eardrums.
It's Yuto's voice, and Yamada remembers he's in public, remembers there's a sketching pad in his lap that he's clutching onto so hard his hands are paling.
“Hey, are you okay?” Yuto asks, a hand on Yamada's shoulder feeling so much heavier than it is, but it helps him come back to life. Breathe, think, perceive.
He swallows, his entire mouth feeling dry, and then slowly shakes his head, even though he doesn't want to be weak in front of Yuto.
He blinks, and it's painful, forcibly taking his eyes off the pair he's been staring at, but the outline of them are still visible when he looks away, the light imprint showing their silhouettes in purple and yellow for a few long moments before it fades.
“What's going on?” Kamiki asks, frowning in concern, and Yamada's starting to feel real again. Like he can more rapidly pick up the pieces of his shattered heart and try to puzzle them together enough to function.
Yuto nods in the direction Yamada was staring, and Kamiki's eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
There's a moment of silence, Yamada desperately trying to hold the couple pieces of his heart he's managed to find together while the other two clearly don't know what to say.
“What are the odds, huh.” Yuto says stiffly.
Yamada slips in the leaked blood and loses a heart piece he was holding on to.
“Is that a new guy? Ryosuke's way prettier.” Kamiki mumbles, and Yamada doesn't know if he's supposed to hear that or not.
If he's prettier, why isn't he the one standing there smiling.
“Oh damn he saw us.” Yuto hisses, then raises his hand to wave with a quickly pasted on smile.
It makes Yamada look up, and he meets those dark eyes dead on, giving up on keeping his insides together as they seem to shatter again like a bomb dropped in his chest. He stares back unapologetically as the smile stiffens a little, and at least that brings him enough satisfaction to keep from bursting out in tears.
Then the smile is turned up again, only the intensity of it saying it's fake, and the bigger hand is reached for and he's pointing their direction.
Yamada swallows again as he watches them approach, the other one looking clueless but pliant, and Yamada thinks that somehow it's unfair how he already hates that man with all his heart.
“Hey, Chinen, long time no see!” Yuto calls when they're within hearing distance, sounding only the tiniest bit awkward, but Yamada doesn't care about Yuto's conflict of interest right now.
He's busy breathing.
“Hi, yes, so long!” Chinen replies, and his voice is like tiny razors in Yamada's ears, cutting their way all the way into his brain and triggering memories that are so fresh they're not even glazed.
He reaches out for a hug, and Yuto doesn't have to stand from the bench in order to be a good height for that.
Yamada stubbornly doesn't look, stares blindly straight ahead of him instead, but he senses it. Feels the presence just next to him, hears the rustle of linen fabric brushing against Yuto's T-shirt, smells cologne so familiar he wants to scream.
“Ryu!” Chinen goes on, and the sensations fade as he steps over to Kamiki instead.
“Hey...” Yamada hears Kamiki sound much more awkward than Yuto, and he's thankful for it.
“How are you doing?” Yuto asks, and Yamada hears the excitement under the polite tone, and it makes him feel horrible for cutting Yuto off from Chinen.
“I'm good, thank you. How are you?” He smiles, and Yamada swallows again at how he looks so excited to meet the two of them and won't even look at him.
“Fine, thanks.” Yuto smiles, raising his notepad the slightest. “We're drawing, art class.”
“Oh. All of you?” Chinen raises an eyebrow, and Yamada quickly turns his sketchpad over before those eyes can wander his way.
“I started, these two tagged along.” Kamiki says, and Yuto just shrugs with a grin, saying something about how it sounded fun.
The taller guy nods with a smile, and Yamada tries not to looks at him, but he can't seem to stop.
“Oh, sorry.” Chinen starts, turning to the man with a dazzling smile that makes Yamada's stomach turn. “This is my boyfriend, Takaki Yuya.”
Takaki Yuya. Stupid name.
Yamada barely hears Takaki say the pleasantries because his pulse is too loud again, but he picks up the last part, and his voice is husky and luxurious and it's not fair.
“These are friends of mine since high school. Kamiki Ryunosuke, Nakajima Yuto and, Yamada Ryosuke.”
Yamada hears the pause, the slight hesitance before his name, and he looks up at Chinen to watch him say it. It's like it's a foreign word in Chinen's mouth, like he's never used it before and can't make his tongue wrap around the syllables.
Like he didn't say it a thousand times.
His eyes are empty when he says it, a veil of ignorance covering a storm of old emotions that Yamada glares right back at him. An old high school friend is the last thing he is.
“Oh.” Takaki blinks and looks at Yamada more closely, like he's assessing him, his hair and earring and clothes and body, even his bag next to him, and Yamada straightens subconsciously. “As in your...?”
His question is tactful, raised eyebrows in Chinen's direction, and Chinen smiles with a passive little nod. “Mmhm.”
“I see.” Takaki nods back, then looks at Yamada once again, smiling like it doesn't matter to him that Chinen and Yamada were so close for so long. If he even knows that. “Nice meeting you.”
Yamada can't speak, just nods slowly, forcing himself into a smile that can't look even halfway genuine. Chinen doesn't buy it for a second, his dark eyes watching Yamada coolly, but Takaki seems pleased.
Takaki small talks about the fish, and Chinen says Takaki's into fishing, has a boat, whatever, because the last Yamada knew Chinen couldn't even swim.
Yuto's impressed, drives the conversation and Kamiki is polite, while Yamada says nothing, only watches Chinen quietly. How the shadows fall on his face, how he smiles, moves his hands from crossed arms to his hips, scratching his arm absently, shifts his weight. Just exists there within two metres from Yamada, as he never thought he would again.
He's beautiful.
“We'll have to meet up again soon, for coffee or something.” Yuto suggests, having completely abandoned his faux reluctance by now, and Chinen smiles.
“Sure, you still have my number, right?”
“I think so, if you didn't change it.” Yuto says, patting his pocket where his phone is.
Chinen reassures that he didn't, and Yamada automatically reads the eleven numbers in his head, even if he deleted it from his phone, he can't delete it from his memory.
“Good to meet you guys, I'll see you around.” Chinen finally smiles, looking only at Yuto and Kamiki, clearly getting ready to leave, and Yamada feels a different kind of panic that he hates himself for.
He doesn't want Chinen to leave again.
Yuto and Kamiki both say goodbye, and Chinen starts to turn, when Yamada hears himself speak up, unsure how his vocal cords could even produce sound while still being frozen to ice.
“Good to see you too.”
His tone isn't even fake, it's just cold, and Chinen meets his eyes for the third time all conversation, and it feels like a minute but can only be a second. The veil is gone, and the pain is obvious, the turmoil of their last conversation storming inside, and Yamada feels the same. Hopes that Chinen suffers as much as he does.
That he's reminded of Yamada everywhere, can't listen to half of his music because it brings back memories, can't wear certain clothes or eat at their favourite restaurants. Can't meet someone on the street that smell like Yamada's hair products or has the same bag, can't play their online games. Can't talk to some of his friends anymore.
He knows his glare projects that, and for a moment he wonders if Chinen's eyes glaze over a little. Then the moment is over.
“Bye.” Chinen says, the smile barely at 50% this time, and he searches for Takaki's hand as he turns around to leave.
There's a silence as they watch the couple leave, and Yamada watches them for as long as he can. How Chinen squeezes Takaki's hand hard, and how Takaki leans in with an impressed look that immediately turns concerned.
“That went well, didn't it?” Yuto asks after a moment, and Yamada doesn't reply.
He needs to leave.
“I'm going home.” He says simply, collecting his things in a hurry and gets up.
He sees peripherally how Kamiki gives Yuto a look that calls him a huge ass without saying a single word, but Yamada doesn't care. He just needs to be alone.
Yamada draws a slow, long, deep breath, trying to exhale his anxiety into the void. His lips tingle from the cold as his breath passes them to form a cloud turning orange in the glow of a twitchy streetlight. He stares at the small river in front of him, holds onto the railing with glove clad hands and tries not to think about anything but the black water slowly floating by down there. It looks calm, peaceful, completely uncaring of his own emotional turmoil. He wonders for how long it would show any sign of him entering it if he were to jump. Five seconds? Ten? Less? It'd swallow him up and calm his rushing blood until it finally stilled. And he'd be at peace too.
He wonders what it'd be like down on the bottom. Sharp rocks, slippery dark seaweed, remnants of things people threw down, covered in rust and small water creatures? Or smooth concrete overcome with layers of algae? Sand and gravel?
He forcibly takes his eyes off the enchanting water, turns his head back to the pavement. He should keep walking.
Yamada throws his sketchpad and pencils down on the desk, shoving aside things that seemed important to him just this morning. Phone charger, macbook, chewing gum, a shirt he decided not to wear tossed over a mostly empty bottle of vitamin water.
The watercolour set is left on one corner after he didn't bother cleaning up since his last assignment, the water a murky brown gray and his teacher would kill him for leaving the brushes in there.
He sits down, and despite feeling like he had to start now for this to happen, he can't seem to move for a moment. There are no tears in his eyes and still he feels like his vision is blurry, and he wonders if this is a good idea.
But he knows what he wants to draw and people say that art is cathartic. He sees that pretty smile illuminated by the blue water before his eyes, and he grabs a pencil.
The face doesn't look that much like him, but the similarities are enough, the smile and the dark eyes makes up for the shape of the face. The hair dancing around him in the water is dark and a few strands floats into his face to disguise the slight miss in shape. The torso is easy to draw from memory, strong shoulders and lithe waist. Hands delicate and held out like in meditation, and Yamada's never drawn a human heart but it's easy to place a crushed one in the left hand.
He draws a mermaid tail, like he's seen in animated movies a hundred times, smooth and flowy. But then he erases it, bruhsing the remnants of his mistake aside, and changes it up, makes it sharper and sleeker, more like a scaly shark that fades into skin at the waistline. At the bottom of the paper, he draws rocks, dark seaweed rising menacingly towards the surface, and then the body parts. Arms, legs, a head with hair tangled in stringy seaweed, half a torso being eaten by fish.
He fills the picture with dark colours, black and blue and grey and deep green. The body parts are pale and dead, a sickening gray white, but the heart is red like fresh blood, with a diffusing colour around it like it's still leaking into the diluting water around it.
Yamada draws those smiling lips the same red.
He looks at his finished picture for a long moment, until his hand is shaking so much he can't hold the brush anymore. He drops it on the desk and starts crying.
Yamada gets an A for his picture. The teacher praises him on his original interpretation of the theme, and encourages him broadening his horizons with different art styles, like going dark when he's been doing positive things so far. Praises the details like the red lips and the shark fin, how it makes it more sinister. Yamada says thank you and sits quietly for the rest of the class.
Yuto smiles and claps his shoulder in the way only a straight man could. Only Kamiki looks worried.
“Hey. Is that how you really feel about him?” Kamiki asks when they're standing on the platform in the summer heat waiting for the train after Yuto's already left.
Yamada considers pretending he doesn't know what Kamiki's talking about, but he knows there's no point. They've known each other far too long.
“... I don't know how I feel.” He admits, and it feels like his heart slowly sinks down towards his stomach, dragging his lungs down with it because it's suddenly hard to breathe.
“Because if you do, that's bad.” Kamiki says, and it's only the gentle tone that keeps Yamada from snapping at him. “Maybe you should talk to someone about it.”
“It was just... What I felt in the moment.” Yamada says, because he's been torn between feeling spiteful and guilty over the picture since he finished it. “I don't hate him.”
“Okay.” Kamiki says quietly, but he watches Yamada carefully, and Yamada smiles and pushes at him.
“Stop it.” He says, keeping the smile up despite feeling like he should scream. “I'm okay, I promise. It's just a drawing.”
But it's not just a drawing.
Yamada closes his eyes and tilts his head back under the shower head, letting the scorching hot water hit his face. It makes him feel disoriented, breathless, but that's just good. That's the reality of him right now.
He keeps seeing Chinen's smile before his inner vision, clearly like a movie, or a gif repeating itself over and over again, and he can't stop watching. He's already forgetting what the date looked like, only remembers the goofiness. Wonders why Chinen would want to be with someone like that, when he deserves the best.
He turns his head out of the spray and gasps for breath, realizing he forgot to breathe under the water, and he opens his eyes, staring at the generic shower drape pattern with guilt pooling in his stomach.
He sits down in his desk chair again, feeling calmer than he has since the aquarium, and chooses a pencil more carefully this time. It's a less black one.
He sketches slowly, none of the quick strikes he used for the last time. He draws a serene face, a dancerly posing of the arms, and a long, flowy tail. He draws the surface, and a small rowing boat with a silhouette of a person's back.
He uses iridescent, pretty colours this time, blue, green, turquoise, purple and pink, a navy night sky with aurora reflecting in the mermaid tail under the water.
It's a beautiful picture, the kindest portrayal of a loved one he could have made, and yet, it still makes him cry.
Yamada feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and it makes him pause. Think twice. It could be Kamiki. He stands still in the middle of the pavement for a long moment, and a girl approaching him eyes him suspiciously before she changes to the other side of the road.
He draws another long breath. His feet hurt, his ears are cold, and this coat isn't enough for the temperature being close to freezing. He wants to go home, except he can't go home and start this whole process again. Maybe it is Kamiki.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses a button on the side to make the screen light up. It's 22:14 and there's a message from Yuto on the screen, starting with “Look babe I'm so so sorry, I didn't know that you-”.
Yamada tosses the phone into the ground, watching the screen crack into a spiderweb as it bounces against the asphalt once before lying still, screen still lit up. He kicks it away and watches it go over the edge into the river.
It's a beautiful fall day and the art class is ending. They're sitting in a café having cinnamon and hazulnut lattes to celebrate, and Yamada looks at the orange leaves blowing by the window, warming his hands on the cup.
“I can't believe you're moving.” Yuto complains, and Kamiki shrugs with a guilty smile. “We are not adult enough to be separated yet. At least I'm not.”
“I'll call you all the time.” Kamiki promises, reaching for the remains of his cupcake.
“No you won't, you'll find a hot chick and start a new life and forget about us.” Yuto complains, and Yamada smiles half heartedly.
Kamiki got into a prestigeous art school halfway across the country, and decided to go. Of course he should, but selfishly, Yamada doesn't want him to either. He feels most fine when he's with Kamiki.
“There are hot chicks here too.” Kamiki points out with a raised eyebrow and Yuto rolls his eyes.
“Yeah but none to date.” He whines, and goes into his story about nobody on Tinder wanting to go out with him, again.
Kamiki laughs and says that if Yuto's profile was a little less like a fuckboy, he'd score a date in no time.
“Come visit me for Christmas and bring a nice girl with you.” Kamiki tells him, and Yuto whines.
“It's impossible.” He sighs, then looks up across the low coffee table. “Yamada should be able to find someone though. There are plenty of hot guys on Tinder, isn't there?”
“I don't do Tinder.” Yamada says, and Yuto rolls his eyes and sink down into the couch.
“Stop refusing, you're a hot guy! You should be out there, finding someone who adores the ground you walk on and fuck you senseless every other night. You need that.” Yuto lectures, and reaches his phone out. “Come on, give me your phone.”
“No, come on, I don't want to.” Yamada complains, protectively picking his phone up from the table.
“Come on Ryosuke, it's just for fun, you don't have to talk to anyone?” Kamiki says, raising his eyebrows and he looks so much like Yamada's mom telling him what's best for him that he groans and drops the phone back again.
“Don't choose any ugly photos.” He mutters, and lets Yuto into his phone.
It is pretty amusing to watch Yuto and Kamiki debate about his profile, and Kamiki promptly taking the phone away from Yuto when Yuto suggests they should put Yamada's age as 21 because he totally looks the part. But he knows he'll never use that.
He comes home and drops his bag where he stands, closing his eyes and leaning back against the front door in the darkness. He's so tired.
Without turning on the lights, he opens the bathroom door and starts running a bath. He barely sees anything but it doesn't matter. He likes the dark.
As he sinks into the hot water, he feels his body slowly relaxing, and he inexplicably starts crying. He cries a lot these days. Cries because he doesn't want to find someone else, he doesn't want anyone adoring the ground he walks on. He just wants to be with Chinen, like back in the days when everything was amazing. He wants to feel happy, wants to like living his life. Wants to feel anything but the unruly anxiety spreading from his stomach and infecting his entire body.
Slowly, he lies down in the bath, submerging his head until he's entirely under water.
The sounds amplify in his ears, the darkness enhancing them. He can almost hear echoes of giant creatures against mountain walls, bubbles appearing with clumsy movement and the swaying of seaweed deep down on the bottom of the ocean. And a laugh.
He breaks the surface with a gasp, his lungs feeling compressed and aching, white lights going off before his eyes and his heartbeat is loud in his ears. His breaths are harsh and desperate, the darkness of the apartment making him feel lost, and he realizes he's been without oxygen for too long. He leans his head against his knees, waiting for his breathing to even out, and then new tears form in his eyes.
He's freezing when he sits down in his chair before his sketchbook again, the water going ice cold before he finally managed to get up. His fingers are pruny and his motor control is a little reduced as he grabs a light pencil, but he warms up quickly enough.
A cold drop of water runs from his hair and down his spine.
He draws the face he knows too well, draws it even more beautiful than it probably is, but it looks better with his picture. He draws the sharp fin and a hand reaching up towards the surface, the smile welcoming and pretty. And then he draws himself. Reaching down for the hand, the splash made from him falling into the water illustrated just at the top of the page. He doesn't draw a bottom of the ocean, only draws the silhouette of a whale in the distance, and a mountainside on the left, with corals at the top and bare rock further down.
He uses his darkest colour for the picture, making it look like they're heading down into an ocean grave, and yet, this picture makes him feel hopeful.
Yamada stands at the bottom of the stairs to the apartment building, and he doesn't know what to do. He's planned this for weeks, and now he can't seem to remember the plan. His mind feels fuzzy, and he wishes he didn't throw away his phone. He feels naked almost, and he'd want to call Kamiki and just talk to someone sane.
But he's here now, and he knows he needs to do this.
He starts walking, feeling mechanic, his knees protesting the steps a little after walking on flat ground for hours. Two stairs, second door. There are two names on the door, and he wants to smash the little plastic display showing them.
But instead he rings the doorbell. And waits.
He distantly hears steps, and then the door cracks open a little bit at first, but then more as a confused man looks back at him. Vaguely, Yamada recognizes him from the aquarium. He's wearing sweatpants and a cardigan over a bare chest that looks like he just threw on for decency. The man looks at him for a moment, then turns over his shoulder to call into the apartment.
“Yuri? I think this is for you.” His voice is deep and lucious and Yamada wets his lips. His own voice is nothing like that.
And then he's there, in person, right in front of Yamada, looking right into his eyes with worry written all over his face. It stings everywhere inside Yamada's body to have Chinen look right at him.
“Ryosuke?” He asks, his voice small and disbelieving, and clearly Chinen sees the distress on him like nobody has since Kamiki moved away.
“Will you talk to me?” Yamada asks, his voice overly calm and his hands shaking.
“I...” Chinen glances back at the man behind him, lingering curiously, and then looks back at Yamada with a concerned frown. “Okay, yeah. I'll... Come out.”
He's wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, but throws on a thick jacket and a scarf, puts on shoes and steps outside.
“Can we walk?” Yamada asks, feeling a little dizzy, his whole body trembling as he watches Chinen's face and relearns what he really looks like. How his lips aren't quite as full, how the curve of his jaw is more subdued, and his eyebrows thicker.
Chinen looks at him for a moment, really looks at him, then wets his lips. “Okay.”
Yamada learns from Facebook. If he was still functioning, he'd probably freak out, but now it just feels natural that there's a video of Chinen dancing with a girl on his phone. They're backlit and dancing on a black carpet drenched in water, and Yamada can't stop watching, even without sound. How his body moves, how the water splashes in small fountains whenever they step on the floor. It's beautiful.
But then he realizes why he sees it. Under the video is a comment from Nakajima Yuto, praising it and saying he can't wait to see it in person.
“Are you seeing him?” Yamada asks immediately after Yuto picks up, his tone cutting in a way it hasn't been since they fought in high school.
“What?” Yuto asks, sounding confused, and Yamada explains.
“Chinen. Are you seeing him?” He insists, and there's a pause that stretches on for too long.
“Look, Ryosuke-” Yuto starts, but Yamada cuts him off.
“I hate you.”
He hangs up. And cries worse than he has in weeks.
Yuto's been getting on his nerves more and more since Kamiki left, because Yuto isn't that perceptive. He's fun if you're happy, but Yamada isn't. Hasn't been in ages. But now, learning that Yuto's hanging out and having fun with Chinen, it's like Yuto physically stabbed him, only not enough to be fatal. Yamada wishes it had been fatal.
Then at least it wouldn't hurt.
Yuto tries to call him back once, but Yamada rejects it. And Yuto doesn't call again. So Yamada puts on a coat and gloves and walks out.
“What's going on?” Chinen asks finally, after having walked in silence for almost ten minutes. Yamada's guiding him along the river and he doesn't even know what he wants to say. Doesn't know how to convey what he feels, because he doesn't know.
He's boiling and freezing on the inside, anger, panic, sadness and longing chasing each other around and leaving his tissues confused as to how to react. So he simply walks and breathes.
Then they reach the end of the street, the ocean spreading out in front of them as the river soundlessly joins it where it ends. On the other side of the bay are twinkling lights and it looks beautiful against the night sky. Yamada pauses to look at it.
“I miss you.” Yamada finally says, and it's not what he intended, but it's true. “What we had.”
It makes Chinen sigh, his shoulders sloping, like the air left his lungs.
“Ryosuke, it's. It's long ago now.” He says, sounding tired, and Yamada feels just as tired.
“I know. But I do.” Yamada says, and watches Chinen wet his lips, his eyebrows twitching a little and his eyes blindly fixed on a large ship a little further down.
He doesn't want to have this conversation and right now, Yamada doesn't either.
“I'm sorry you still feel that way.” Chinen says finally, and Yamada's heart stops beating for a moment, the panic surging through his veins like an explosion. “I... Sometimes I do too. But mostly, I don't.”
Yamada sighs, the frosty breath feeling like it could be his last with how weak it is. He feels the tears on his cheeks because they're hot against his cold skin, but he didn't realize he was crying.
He feels Chinen watch him, but he simply looks down at the black ocean. He can't look at Chinen right now.
“Can I... Is there anything I can do for you?” Chinen asks, sounding pained, and Yamada nods slowly.
“Could you... Hold me? Just for now?” He asks, and time seems to stop for a moment as his words hang in the cold air. The only thing convincing him time didn't actually stop is the current of the water in front of him.
But then he feels arms sneaking around his waist, and he turns to accept the embrace, easily falling back into how it feels best to hug the smaller body. Chinen's hair smells different, but it's still somehow the same, his clothes and his skin and his hug making it feel like no years passed by. Like they didn't hate each other.
Yamada hears one of his tears drop onto the waterproof fabric of Chinen's jacket, and he knows that this is the best he's felt since that day at the aquarium. And none of it is real.
He turns his head and looks at the ocean while holding Chinen close, wondering how many metres there is to the edge. Can't be more than two.
He draws a final, deep breath, squeezing Chinen tighter for a long moment.
“I'm so sorry.” He whispers on his exhale, then lets go of Chinen, grasping his wrists instead.
And pulls.
He hears Chinen's scream of panic, the scrape of stumbling shoes against the pavement, and the rattling of the low chain protecting kids from falling down.
Then his world turns to quiet ice as he breaks the black surface, holding tightly onto Chinen's arms.
~*~