Fanfiction: Unwritten (Oneshot)
Title: Unwritten
Fandom: Dir en grey
Pairings : KaoruxToshiya
Rating: NC17
Spoilers/Warnings: Slight smex and drama
Disclaimers: I don’t own them, I’m not implying any of this is true, God really isn’t that nice to me.
Summary: Kaoru gets a letter in the post bearing the year 1997, the year that Dir en grey started, the year that he first met Toshiya.
A/N:For the KT winter challenge ^^ glad finally could post this up despite how PMSy LJ has been these past few days =_=;;. Was based on a prompt, comprising a quote, a picture and the requirement that it must be either 1st or 2nd POV.
Hope its okay, comments are love. One writing challenge down, another is overdue *runs*
***
I got a letter today.
The fact that I got anything in the post besides bills was already a surprise. Who writes letters these days? With the advent of email, instant chat and Skype, there was hardly a need for anyone to pick up a pen anymore.
And yet there it was, a simple square of cream that stood out amongst the more sterile white rectangles that signified the need to take financial responsibility. Pieces of paper that told me my mortgage was due and that I had spent more on my credit card than I had originally thought.
Picking the letter up and tossing the rest of the mail on the table, I ran a thoughtful finger over the slightly crumpled corners, the deep wrinkles in the paper and the slightly faded ink telling me its age.
Falling back on my couch, I ran a finger under the flap, breaking the seal in a series of sticky snaps until I could get to the piece of paper nestled within. When I opened it, while the sprawling handwriting was unfamiliar to me, what caught my attention first and took me aback was the date in the corner.
July 5, 1997
Today’s date is July 8, 2004.
It was only then I skipped to the end to see who the sender was. There, in his habitually messy script, was Toshiya’s signature. To say that it was totally unexpected would have been a lie, only Toshiya would have thought about sending this folded time capsule.
Yet, I wondered, what was it that he had to say that needed to wait seven years?
Dear Kaoru,
I honestly don’t know who would be more surprised at this point. You at the fact that you got a letter from me when the writing is already on the wall that this method of communication is probably going to become obsolete, or the fact that I have the guts to write this at all.
But I figured that if I didn't hold on to that little bit of courage, that little bit of what I am feeling at this moment, I probably would never tell you.
Is it too cheesy? Is it too stupid to say that I was attracted to you from the very beginning? Even without the benefit of hindsight, I already know it’s fucking dumb. In real life, where do feelings such as this occur outside of overwrought romance books and the diaries of teenage girls?
Yet I can’t really stop liking you. I’ve only been in the band a few months, but there is this feeling in my gut that we will be a success. And even with the barebone glimpses you allow me, I see something in you that I know will just pull me in deeper.
Don't ask me to explain it though. I’ve always felt that feelings become hollow when you try to put words to them, so this is the best way I can think of describing it.
Something.
Then why seven years?
Because, I want this band to be a success, and the last thing I want to do is fuck it up just because of what could just be a crush. So I figured that seven years would probably be a safe-enough buffer.
It’s always the hardest at the beginning, so by this time we would have gone through the stages of being happy together, to hating each other, to trying to make it work.
And who knows, by this time, maybe we would have already hooked up. God knows, I’ve never been good at keeping my feelings to myself. If we have, then use this letter as a reminder for when the feelings between us wane. And I know they will, because I’ve never been good with commitment either.
If we aren’t, and I’m available, then consider this letter a sort of nudge for us to maybe explore something. No pressure though.
If I’m not, please disregard this letter than as the fancy of a young boy who just didn’t have the balls to tell you how he felt seven years ago.
Unless, of course you feel that I am worth fighting for. Don’t laugh at me though, a guy can always hope, can’t he? And I will soundly kick your ass if you do, the fact that you are the bandleader be damned.
Now, I’m just babbling and my hand hurts, shit.
Yours,
Toshiya.
My hands were steady as I folded the letter back and neatly tucked it into the envelope before reaching for my cigarettes. I trembled slightly though when I flicked the flint of the lighter, the wheel refusing to catch, but that was probably due to my guitar-callused knuckles that were already showing signs of arthritis.
I took a deep breath and exhaled, nicotine fingers tugging and working to unfurl the knots in my mind.
We had hooked up course, several times over the years, but it had always been casual and usually accompanied by massive amounts of alcohol. The first time had taken place about a year after the band had started, we had been celebrating a milestone with a big party thrown by the record label.
There had been plenty of girls there, and yet it was Toshiya that I had ended bringing home. We had both been so hammered that it was all we could do was go back to my apartment that was in walking distance from where the party was held.
Was that the reason? Or was it simply a pretense? I wondered, even now.
To be honest, I don't really remember much about that night, even in the immediate days that followed. I could only recall fragments, shrouded in white curls of smoke from our cigarettes.
Toshiya’s electric blue hair, startling against the back of my hand, the silky strands making a basket weave with my fingers. His nipples, hard and salty against the surface of my tongue.
His sloppy hand job as he tried to jerk me off, which just hurt where his rings pinched me. The hot and cold contrast of his cock with its wet tip pressing into my stomach. The tight clench of his body around my cock as I forced deeper and came too soon.
All perfect ingredients for a one night stand.
Yet the next morning when we had woken with sandpapered vocal chords, there was no awkwardness between us. No regret, or a need to bolt with a handful of hastily gathered clothes.
Just an easy smile and offer of coffee.
We soon fell into a kind of holding pattern, sharing a handful night over the course of a year. We both got into relationships with other people during that time, which kept us from tumbling into each other’s bed for months, or even years, at a time.
But when the relationships ended, badly or not, it was just a matter of time before one of us would be knocking on the other’s door. With us it had always been simple, uncomplicated.
However, there were times when Toshiya had this look in his eye. He tried his hardest to camouflage the flicker behind a glaze of desire, sometimes succeeding, but sometimes not.
It made me feel a certain way, but the exact name always eluded me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put my finger on it.
Toshiya had said it best really.
Something.
“Did you say something Kaoru?”
I looked up to find Toshiya looking at me quizzically. It was the next day and we had just finished recording. It was just us in the studio today, as it was Toshiya’s turn to record his bass parts.
I didn't even realise that I had been mumbling to myself. Instinctively I clasped my hand over my pocket and heard, rather than felt, the rustling of paper. Truth be told, I could have left well alone. Toshiya gave no indication that he was expecting me to say anything except go home and see you later.
But I didn't because I knew, I wanted to know, whether anything had changed.
So wordlessly, I stood up and pulled the letter out of my pocket. Toshiya startled a little as I lay the envelope flat on the palm of my hand.
A guarded “Oh” was all he said.
“I got your letter yesterday,” I said. “What ever possessed you to write it?”
Toshiya gave a small shrug of his shoulders before turning away to pack up his bass.
“I got the idea from this story I read in the paper. About how in an effort to curb divorce rates in China, the government asked newly married couples to write each other letters to be delivered seven years later.”
Toshiya laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head in a manner that I had always found endearing. His hair was short again, just growing in from where he had shaved most of it, the dark hairs baby fine against the nape of his neck.
“I guess, it was a way of reminding them why they got married in the first place. To bring up memories long forgotten once reality set in, to rekindle the love they once felt,” Toshiya finished softly.
“You must have gotten some weird looks at the post office then,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood although it had not gone unnoticed by me that he hadn’t really answered my question.
Toshiya didn't answer but instead squatted back on his heels, his head slight raised as if resting his chin on his folded hands.
“I definitely caused them quite a bit of trouble,” Toshiya said with a dry chuckle. “I had to keep going back every time you moved house. The last time was three years ago, so after that I pretty much forgot about it.”
“Did you forget what you had written?” I tested the waters, wondering how deep the drop could be.
An almost imperceptible shake of the head as Toshiya stood up and brushed the dust from the knees of his jeans.
“Hardly. What you have there is probably the tenth incarnation of my original letter.”
It was then I knew that Toshiya wasn't going to answer my question, at least not directly. He wasn't the same bashful boy he was back then, with his feelings perched at the tip of his tongue.
Maybe it was my turn to make my feelings clear.
“I think that, sometimes, we all need a nudge,” I said quietly.
I saw Toshiya’s slender shoulders stiffen, but as he slowly turned to face me, I saw his lips curved in that charmingly crooked grin of his.
“You never even asked if I was available,” Toshiya said, the teasing light in his tone.
Instead of answering, I just stepped closer and brushed my lips against his.
***
Never mind, I will find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you too,
Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.
***
Where did it all start to go wrong?
Toshiya and I lasted three years, which for both of us was some kind of record. We had our share of good and bad times, but I can truthfully say that I never had a relationship with that much passion before.
There were nights of pure, unabashed fucking, where my fingers would hurt from holding on to the headboard of my bed as I nailed him as hard as I could. His body trembling as I rogered him like some kind of animal, causing him to hiss between his teeth and gouge bloody lines down my forearms.
But there were also nights that we would spend hours just making love. He would kiss my cock and I would suck his, deep down my throat, hungrily swallowing his cum. He would manipulate my body with his long fingers, brushing my balls with his knuckles.
He would open his legs and I would settle between them, my cock as deep in as it would go. He would whisper my name in my ear as I moved, fast, then slow, so that our climaxes wouldn't be too soon. Every breath I took in was like a kick to my chest, as his words dampened my skin.
I thought nothing of licking the pearlescent streaks dripping from his arsehole, while he didn't hesitate from cleaning my cock with his tongue after.
But I couldn't honestly, with hand over heart, say that our relationship was entirely healthy.
Working together is both a blessing and curse. While you saw a lot of your partner, it also gave you no safe haven to run to when the situation turned explosive.
Toshiya was the master at playing the guilt-trip game, while I could just dig my heels in and not relent for days. We knew each other so well that it became way too easy to push each other’s buttons.
At first it led to intense bouts of makeup sex, but that soon tapered off as the arguments between us stretched longer and longer.
Why do relationships end? How could the love you felt once upon a time dissipate into nothing but angry words and hateful glances?
Maybe it's because people change over the years, their outlook shaped by the numerous life experiences that brushed past their shoulders. Or maybe it was because both parties got bored with each other as they got older.
Time was clearly taking its toll on the both of us. Toshiya was still boyishly handsome, but his eyes looked permanently tired, his smile not as bright as before.
As for me, I gradually lost my original skin, covering it instead with man-made ink. Wide swaths of black, skulls and crosses, jagged lines of red as I told my life story on my arms and across my chest.
Or maybe, things just…end.
Like how it did with us. When we broke up, it wasn't during an argument, or that we had done anything to wrong the other.
We had been getting ready for bed, when Toshiya said to me that it was time for both of us to move on. His voice was steady and devoid of emotion, and the way he said it was as if the end of our relationship was simply inevitable.
I could have reached for the letter, I could have pulled it out, and everything would have gone away. I had done it a couple of times during our relationship, when arguments got too heated, or tempers ran too high.
But instead, I stilled my hand. I wasn't even fighting an overwhelming urge to do so, knowing that our relationship had run its course.
Sometimes no matter how hard you tried to cup your hands, you couldn't stop the water from spilling out.
“It's probably a good idea, before we hurt each other further. And destroy the band,” I heard myself reply, even as my own voice sounded strange to my ears.
I felt the bed shift as Toshiya moved closer to hug me from behind. He slowly kissed my bare shoulders as he tugged at my tank top. After that I turned so that our bare chests rubbed against each other, and I pulled him down on top of me as he arranged our bodies to fit.
I found it amazing that it was actually possible to go months without talking to Toshiya, even though we were together for long periods of time on tours. We simply avoided each other and went our separate ways when the show was over.
What was harder to avoid were the worried looks from the rest of the band. Shinya in particular seemed to walk on eggshells when he mentioned Toshiya to me. But all breathed easier when it became clear that neither of us harboured any ill feelings towards the other.
Six months later, I met the woman who would become my wife. Six months after that, I proposed to her over dinner, with an engagement ring that Die helped me pick out.
With her it just felt right. There were no games, just mutual love and affection, similar goals and an understanding of how our lives would work out. I couldn't stop myself from working, while she didn't want to make me the centre of her life.
Our wedding was a simple affair, but I was grateful that the rest of the band showed up. Toshiya came with his girlfriend, who he had started dating a few months before I proposed to my wife. Although he didn't tell me personally, he had told Kyo who saw it fit to share with me that this relationship was serious.
True enough, Toshiya’s smile was genuine as he wished my wife and I well. It didn't falter when he told my wife that he and his girlfriend had picked out our wedding present together.
Life was back to normal. Life was good, and I was happy.
My marriage lasted two years, one year shorter than my relationship with Toshiya. This time, the end was during an argument. She could stand me not being the centre of her universe, but she couldn't stand not being the centre of mine.
I did wonder whether I should have fought harder to make it work. But by that time, I was just so tired that I didn't have it in me to fight back. Two failed relationships can take its toll on you until you simply don’t have the back to carry the burden anymore.
Hence why at the beginning of 2011, I found myself divorced and single once more. My spiral downwards was spectacularly cliché to say the least. Every time I took a drink, I always wondered how much I could take before alcohol poisoning would kick in.
One night I came perilously close, drinking enough whisky by myself in the studio to knock out an elephant. I was semi-comatose and choking on my own bile, when Toshiya strode in, his face black as thunder as he saw me and tipped me on my side so that I could still breathe.
“Fuck Kaoru, why the hell,” he cursed as he grabbed a towel from the nearby bathroom and started mopping up the mess I made. He twisted the cap off a bottle of water and forced it down my throat, causing me to cough and sit up, clearing my airway.
“Why do you care?” I slurred. See Toshiya, I can ask stupid questions as well.
His eyes narrowed as he clenched his fist, ready to knock me on my arse for asking.
“Why wouldn't I care Kaoru?” He said through clenched teeth. “Just because we aren’t dating any more, why wouldn't I care?”
“Because…because….”
I never got a chance to answer though, interrupted as I was by a knock on the door. There staring through the panel of glass cut in the middle of door was Toshiya’s girlfriend, her eyes as wide as dinner saucers.
He turned and nodded curtly at her, before turning back to me.
“I gotta go,” he said brusquely before standing up. He turned to walk away but paused mid-step, his back rigid as a war seemed to rage within in.
“Go back to being the old Kaoru…please,” he finally said, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. Or it could have simply been my imagination, it must have been.
Regardless, it was that little altercation with Toshiya that managed to shake me out of my stupor. I didn't know how he did, how he still managed to affect me in ways that I never realised he could.
Perhaps it was also common sense. My work was suffering, and with the rest of me in ruins, the band was the only thing that really mattered anyone.
That and the look that Toshiya gave me that always made me feel two feet tall. In addition, the rest of the band had come to me in stages to tell me to shape up. Shinya in a way that was comforting, Die in a way that was tinged with concern and Kyo in a way that was basically a veiled threat.
Toshiya could never keep his mouth shut.
But it worked, and soon everything was back to the way it should have been. The album was progressing well, and our live shows had gained back that magical spark. It could have kept going that way, with me living my life the way I had always intended.
I could have been content.
However, life as always can throw you a curveball.
I got a letter today, Dec 5, 2011.
The date on the piece of paper was Dec 1, 2004. Inside were only four words.
Can we try again?
The letter wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. I knew whom it was from.
December 2004, we must have been four months into our relationship. This time, I didn't have to search far into my memories to know what could have driven Toshiya to write another letter.
I had commented to him once that life was so fleeting, so we should enjoy it while we could. Toshiya had frowned and shook his head, countering that he had never been so certain of how he had felt for me, and that it had been the only thing in his life that had been so concrete.
“So what I feel now, must be real. It must mean something permanent,” he had said.
However, it meant opening a set of doors that I thought had closed long ago. But another part of me knew that it was now my turn to write him a letter.
But try as I might, I couldn't not find the right words to put on paper. Everything I wrote down seemed so hollow, causing me to cross out line after line as the crumpled mountain in my bin grew.
How could I tell him what I felt when I myself was unsure. How what I wanted was not our relationship from before, because we were not the same people. All I could ever hope for was a reconstruction of what we were before, because even earlier on, the love we felt had always been an approximation. Feelings we could never really describe or pin down.
I don't know how long I sat there in my chair, my pen between my fingers, a sheet of clean paper before me. But when I finally shook off my reverie, night had already fallen and the room was dark save for the incandescent yellow of the streetlights.
So I flicked on my table lamp, drew my notepad towards me and wrote three words. Just three, but they were the only words that were in my mind at the time.
I folded the paper and tucked it into an envelope. Stupidly I wrote his address on the front, even though I knew I was going to deliver it by hand.
When I finally got to his apartment, I stood for a good ten minutes in front of his door before finally knocking. It was only when I heard footsteps inside the apartment did I slide the letter under the door.
I pressed my ear to the wood as I tried to picture what was happening on the other side. I could just about make out the slight crinkle of an envelope flap being opened, and the paper being pulled out.
After a few long moments I stood there, only taking a step back when the door started to open. I don't know why I found it so hard to look up, scared maybe of what I would see, or what I wouldn't see.
Yet when he didn't say anything, I had no choice but to lift my head.
And there, across his face was that crooked smile.
It was all the answer I needed as I smiled back.
I knew my letter was much shorter than his, but then I had always been a man of few words. I’m sure he understood that, nobody else knew me inside and out like he did. Knew every chink my armour, and knew every strength that lay beneath.
And I knew his, even when I had been too blind to realise it.
I guess, in the end, three words were really all I needed.
Sure, always, forever.
***
The End
***
Fandom: Dir en grey
Pairings : KaoruxToshiya
Rating: NC17
Spoilers/Warnings: Slight smex and drama
Disclaimers: I don’t own them, I’m not implying any of this is true, God really isn’t that nice to me.
Summary: Kaoru gets a letter in the post bearing the year 1997, the year that Dir en grey started, the year that he first met Toshiya.
A/N:For the KT winter challenge ^^ glad finally could post this up despite how PMSy LJ has been these past few days =_=;;. Was based on a prompt, comprising a quote, a picture and the requirement that it must be either 1st or 2nd POV.
Hope its okay, comments are love. One writing challenge down, another is overdue *runs*
***
I got a letter today.
The fact that I got anything in the post besides bills was already a surprise. Who writes letters these days? With the advent of email, instant chat and Skype, there was hardly a need for anyone to pick up a pen anymore.
And yet there it was, a simple square of cream that stood out amongst the more sterile white rectangles that signified the need to take financial responsibility. Pieces of paper that told me my mortgage was due and that I had spent more on my credit card than I had originally thought.
Picking the letter up and tossing the rest of the mail on the table, I ran a thoughtful finger over the slightly crumpled corners, the deep wrinkles in the paper and the slightly faded ink telling me its age.
Falling back on my couch, I ran a finger under the flap, breaking the seal in a series of sticky snaps until I could get to the piece of paper nestled within. When I opened it, while the sprawling handwriting was unfamiliar to me, what caught my attention first and took me aback was the date in the corner.
July 5, 1997
Today’s date is July 8, 2004.
It was only then I skipped to the end to see who the sender was. There, in his habitually messy script, was Toshiya’s signature. To say that it was totally unexpected would have been a lie, only Toshiya would have thought about sending this folded time capsule.
Yet, I wondered, what was it that he had to say that needed to wait seven years?
Dear Kaoru,
I honestly don’t know who would be more surprised at this point. You at the fact that you got a letter from me when the writing is already on the wall that this method of communication is probably going to become obsolete, or the fact that I have the guts to write this at all.
But I figured that if I didn't hold on to that little bit of courage, that little bit of what I am feeling at this moment, I probably would never tell you.
Is it too cheesy? Is it too stupid to say that I was attracted to you from the very beginning? Even without the benefit of hindsight, I already know it’s fucking dumb. In real life, where do feelings such as this occur outside of overwrought romance books and the diaries of teenage girls?
Yet I can’t really stop liking you. I’ve only been in the band a few months, but there is this feeling in my gut that we will be a success. And even with the barebone glimpses you allow me, I see something in you that I know will just pull me in deeper.
Don't ask me to explain it though. I’ve always felt that feelings become hollow when you try to put words to them, so this is the best way I can think of describing it.
Something.
Then why seven years?
Because, I want this band to be a success, and the last thing I want to do is fuck it up just because of what could just be a crush. So I figured that seven years would probably be a safe-enough buffer.
It’s always the hardest at the beginning, so by this time we would have gone through the stages of being happy together, to hating each other, to trying to make it work.
And who knows, by this time, maybe we would have already hooked up. God knows, I’ve never been good at keeping my feelings to myself. If we have, then use this letter as a reminder for when the feelings between us wane. And I know they will, because I’ve never been good with commitment either.
If we aren’t, and I’m available, then consider this letter a sort of nudge for us to maybe explore something. No pressure though.
If I’m not, please disregard this letter than as the fancy of a young boy who just didn’t have the balls to tell you how he felt seven years ago.
Unless, of course you feel that I am worth fighting for. Don’t laugh at me though, a guy can always hope, can’t he? And I will soundly kick your ass if you do, the fact that you are the bandleader be damned.
Now, I’m just babbling and my hand hurts, shit.
Yours,
Toshiya.
My hands were steady as I folded the letter back and neatly tucked it into the envelope before reaching for my cigarettes. I trembled slightly though when I flicked the flint of the lighter, the wheel refusing to catch, but that was probably due to my guitar-callused knuckles that were already showing signs of arthritis.
I took a deep breath and exhaled, nicotine fingers tugging and working to unfurl the knots in my mind.
We had hooked up course, several times over the years, but it had always been casual and usually accompanied by massive amounts of alcohol. The first time had taken place about a year after the band had started, we had been celebrating a milestone with a big party thrown by the record label.
There had been plenty of girls there, and yet it was Toshiya that I had ended bringing home. We had both been so hammered that it was all we could do was go back to my apartment that was in walking distance from where the party was held.
Was that the reason? Or was it simply a pretense? I wondered, even now.
To be honest, I don't really remember much about that night, even in the immediate days that followed. I could only recall fragments, shrouded in white curls of smoke from our cigarettes.
Toshiya’s electric blue hair, startling against the back of my hand, the silky strands making a basket weave with my fingers. His nipples, hard and salty against the surface of my tongue.
His sloppy hand job as he tried to jerk me off, which just hurt where his rings pinched me. The hot and cold contrast of his cock with its wet tip pressing into my stomach. The tight clench of his body around my cock as I forced deeper and came too soon.
All perfect ingredients for a one night stand.
Yet the next morning when we had woken with sandpapered vocal chords, there was no awkwardness between us. No regret, or a need to bolt with a handful of hastily gathered clothes.
Just an easy smile and offer of coffee.
We soon fell into a kind of holding pattern, sharing a handful night over the course of a year. We both got into relationships with other people during that time, which kept us from tumbling into each other’s bed for months, or even years, at a time.
But when the relationships ended, badly or not, it was just a matter of time before one of us would be knocking on the other’s door. With us it had always been simple, uncomplicated.
However, there were times when Toshiya had this look in his eye. He tried his hardest to camouflage the flicker behind a glaze of desire, sometimes succeeding, but sometimes not.
It made me feel a certain way, but the exact name always eluded me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put my finger on it.
Toshiya had said it best really.
Something.
“Did you say something Kaoru?”
I looked up to find Toshiya looking at me quizzically. It was the next day and we had just finished recording. It was just us in the studio today, as it was Toshiya’s turn to record his bass parts.
I didn't even realise that I had been mumbling to myself. Instinctively I clasped my hand over my pocket and heard, rather than felt, the rustling of paper. Truth be told, I could have left well alone. Toshiya gave no indication that he was expecting me to say anything except go home and see you later.
But I didn't because I knew, I wanted to know, whether anything had changed.
So wordlessly, I stood up and pulled the letter out of my pocket. Toshiya startled a little as I lay the envelope flat on the palm of my hand.
A guarded “Oh” was all he said.
“I got your letter yesterday,” I said. “What ever possessed you to write it?”
Toshiya gave a small shrug of his shoulders before turning away to pack up his bass.
“I got the idea from this story I read in the paper. About how in an effort to curb divorce rates in China, the government asked newly married couples to write each other letters to be delivered seven years later.”
Toshiya laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head in a manner that I had always found endearing. His hair was short again, just growing in from where he had shaved most of it, the dark hairs baby fine against the nape of his neck.
“I guess, it was a way of reminding them why they got married in the first place. To bring up memories long forgotten once reality set in, to rekindle the love they once felt,” Toshiya finished softly.
“You must have gotten some weird looks at the post office then,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood although it had not gone unnoticed by me that he hadn’t really answered my question.
Toshiya didn't answer but instead squatted back on his heels, his head slight raised as if resting his chin on his folded hands.
“I definitely caused them quite a bit of trouble,” Toshiya said with a dry chuckle. “I had to keep going back every time you moved house. The last time was three years ago, so after that I pretty much forgot about it.”
“Did you forget what you had written?” I tested the waters, wondering how deep the drop could be.
An almost imperceptible shake of the head as Toshiya stood up and brushed the dust from the knees of his jeans.
“Hardly. What you have there is probably the tenth incarnation of my original letter.”
It was then I knew that Toshiya wasn't going to answer my question, at least not directly. He wasn't the same bashful boy he was back then, with his feelings perched at the tip of his tongue.
Maybe it was my turn to make my feelings clear.
“I think that, sometimes, we all need a nudge,” I said quietly.
I saw Toshiya’s slender shoulders stiffen, but as he slowly turned to face me, I saw his lips curved in that charmingly crooked grin of his.
“You never even asked if I was available,” Toshiya said, the teasing light in his tone.
Instead of answering, I just stepped closer and brushed my lips against his.
***
Never mind, I will find someone like you,
I wish nothing but the best for you too,
Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said,
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.
***
Where did it all start to go wrong?
Toshiya and I lasted three years, which for both of us was some kind of record. We had our share of good and bad times, but I can truthfully say that I never had a relationship with that much passion before.
There were nights of pure, unabashed fucking, where my fingers would hurt from holding on to the headboard of my bed as I nailed him as hard as I could. His body trembling as I rogered him like some kind of animal, causing him to hiss between his teeth and gouge bloody lines down my forearms.
But there were also nights that we would spend hours just making love. He would kiss my cock and I would suck his, deep down my throat, hungrily swallowing his cum. He would manipulate my body with his long fingers, brushing my balls with his knuckles.
He would open his legs and I would settle between them, my cock as deep in as it would go. He would whisper my name in my ear as I moved, fast, then slow, so that our climaxes wouldn't be too soon. Every breath I took in was like a kick to my chest, as his words dampened my skin.
I thought nothing of licking the pearlescent streaks dripping from his arsehole, while he didn't hesitate from cleaning my cock with his tongue after.
But I couldn't honestly, with hand over heart, say that our relationship was entirely healthy.
Working together is both a blessing and curse. While you saw a lot of your partner, it also gave you no safe haven to run to when the situation turned explosive.
Toshiya was the master at playing the guilt-trip game, while I could just dig my heels in and not relent for days. We knew each other so well that it became way too easy to push each other’s buttons.
At first it led to intense bouts of makeup sex, but that soon tapered off as the arguments between us stretched longer and longer.
Why do relationships end? How could the love you felt once upon a time dissipate into nothing but angry words and hateful glances?
Maybe it's because people change over the years, their outlook shaped by the numerous life experiences that brushed past their shoulders. Or maybe it was because both parties got bored with each other as they got older.
Time was clearly taking its toll on the both of us. Toshiya was still boyishly handsome, but his eyes looked permanently tired, his smile not as bright as before.
As for me, I gradually lost my original skin, covering it instead with man-made ink. Wide swaths of black, skulls and crosses, jagged lines of red as I told my life story on my arms and across my chest.
Or maybe, things just…end.
Like how it did with us. When we broke up, it wasn't during an argument, or that we had done anything to wrong the other.
We had been getting ready for bed, when Toshiya said to me that it was time for both of us to move on. His voice was steady and devoid of emotion, and the way he said it was as if the end of our relationship was simply inevitable.
I could have reached for the letter, I could have pulled it out, and everything would have gone away. I had done it a couple of times during our relationship, when arguments got too heated, or tempers ran too high.
But instead, I stilled my hand. I wasn't even fighting an overwhelming urge to do so, knowing that our relationship had run its course.
Sometimes no matter how hard you tried to cup your hands, you couldn't stop the water from spilling out.
“It's probably a good idea, before we hurt each other further. And destroy the band,” I heard myself reply, even as my own voice sounded strange to my ears.
I felt the bed shift as Toshiya moved closer to hug me from behind. He slowly kissed my bare shoulders as he tugged at my tank top. After that I turned so that our bare chests rubbed against each other, and I pulled him down on top of me as he arranged our bodies to fit.
I found it amazing that it was actually possible to go months without talking to Toshiya, even though we were together for long periods of time on tours. We simply avoided each other and went our separate ways when the show was over.
What was harder to avoid were the worried looks from the rest of the band. Shinya in particular seemed to walk on eggshells when he mentioned Toshiya to me. But all breathed easier when it became clear that neither of us harboured any ill feelings towards the other.
Six months later, I met the woman who would become my wife. Six months after that, I proposed to her over dinner, with an engagement ring that Die helped me pick out.
With her it just felt right. There were no games, just mutual love and affection, similar goals and an understanding of how our lives would work out. I couldn't stop myself from working, while she didn't want to make me the centre of her life.
Our wedding was a simple affair, but I was grateful that the rest of the band showed up. Toshiya came with his girlfriend, who he had started dating a few months before I proposed to my wife. Although he didn't tell me personally, he had told Kyo who saw it fit to share with me that this relationship was serious.
True enough, Toshiya’s smile was genuine as he wished my wife and I well. It didn't falter when he told my wife that he and his girlfriend had picked out our wedding present together.
Life was back to normal. Life was good, and I was happy.
My marriage lasted two years, one year shorter than my relationship with Toshiya. This time, the end was during an argument. She could stand me not being the centre of her universe, but she couldn't stand not being the centre of mine.
I did wonder whether I should have fought harder to make it work. But by that time, I was just so tired that I didn't have it in me to fight back. Two failed relationships can take its toll on you until you simply don’t have the back to carry the burden anymore.
Hence why at the beginning of 2011, I found myself divorced and single once more. My spiral downwards was spectacularly cliché to say the least. Every time I took a drink, I always wondered how much I could take before alcohol poisoning would kick in.
One night I came perilously close, drinking enough whisky by myself in the studio to knock out an elephant. I was semi-comatose and choking on my own bile, when Toshiya strode in, his face black as thunder as he saw me and tipped me on my side so that I could still breathe.
“Fuck Kaoru, why the hell,” he cursed as he grabbed a towel from the nearby bathroom and started mopping up the mess I made. He twisted the cap off a bottle of water and forced it down my throat, causing me to cough and sit up, clearing my airway.
“Why do you care?” I slurred. See Toshiya, I can ask stupid questions as well.
His eyes narrowed as he clenched his fist, ready to knock me on my arse for asking.
“Why wouldn't I care Kaoru?” He said through clenched teeth. “Just because we aren’t dating any more, why wouldn't I care?”
“Because…because….”
I never got a chance to answer though, interrupted as I was by a knock on the door. There staring through the panel of glass cut in the middle of door was Toshiya’s girlfriend, her eyes as wide as dinner saucers.
He turned and nodded curtly at her, before turning back to me.
“I gotta go,” he said brusquely before standing up. He turned to walk away but paused mid-step, his back rigid as a war seemed to rage within in.
“Go back to being the old Kaoru…please,” he finally said, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. Or it could have simply been my imagination, it must have been.
Regardless, it was that little altercation with Toshiya that managed to shake me out of my stupor. I didn't know how he did, how he still managed to affect me in ways that I never realised he could.
Perhaps it was also common sense. My work was suffering, and with the rest of me in ruins, the band was the only thing that really mattered anyone.
That and the look that Toshiya gave me that always made me feel two feet tall. In addition, the rest of the band had come to me in stages to tell me to shape up. Shinya in a way that was comforting, Die in a way that was tinged with concern and Kyo in a way that was basically a veiled threat.
Toshiya could never keep his mouth shut.
But it worked, and soon everything was back to the way it should have been. The album was progressing well, and our live shows had gained back that magical spark. It could have kept going that way, with me living my life the way I had always intended.
I could have been content.
However, life as always can throw you a curveball.
I got a letter today, Dec 5, 2011.
The date on the piece of paper was Dec 1, 2004. Inside were only four words.
Can we try again?
The letter wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. I knew whom it was from.
December 2004, we must have been four months into our relationship. This time, I didn't have to search far into my memories to know what could have driven Toshiya to write another letter.
I had commented to him once that life was so fleeting, so we should enjoy it while we could. Toshiya had frowned and shook his head, countering that he had never been so certain of how he had felt for me, and that it had been the only thing in his life that had been so concrete.
“So what I feel now, must be real. It must mean something permanent,” he had said.
However, it meant opening a set of doors that I thought had closed long ago. But another part of me knew that it was now my turn to write him a letter.
But try as I might, I couldn't not find the right words to put on paper. Everything I wrote down seemed so hollow, causing me to cross out line after line as the crumpled mountain in my bin grew.
How could I tell him what I felt when I myself was unsure. How what I wanted was not our relationship from before, because we were not the same people. All I could ever hope for was a reconstruction of what we were before, because even earlier on, the love we felt had always been an approximation. Feelings we could never really describe or pin down.
I don't know how long I sat there in my chair, my pen between my fingers, a sheet of clean paper before me. But when I finally shook off my reverie, night had already fallen and the room was dark save for the incandescent yellow of the streetlights.
So I flicked on my table lamp, drew my notepad towards me and wrote three words. Just three, but they were the only words that were in my mind at the time.
I folded the paper and tucked it into an envelope. Stupidly I wrote his address on the front, even though I knew I was going to deliver it by hand.
When I finally got to his apartment, I stood for a good ten minutes in front of his door before finally knocking. It was only when I heard footsteps inside the apartment did I slide the letter under the door.
I pressed my ear to the wood as I tried to picture what was happening on the other side. I could just about make out the slight crinkle of an envelope flap being opened, and the paper being pulled out.
After a few long moments I stood there, only taking a step back when the door started to open. I don't know why I found it so hard to look up, scared maybe of what I would see, or what I wouldn't see.
Yet when he didn't say anything, I had no choice but to lift my head.
And there, across his face was that crooked smile.
It was all the answer I needed as I smiled back.
I knew my letter was much shorter than his, but then I had always been a man of few words. I’m sure he understood that, nobody else knew me inside and out like he did. Knew every chink my armour, and knew every strength that lay beneath.
And I knew his, even when I had been too blind to realise it.
I guess, in the end, three words were really all I needed.
Sure, always, forever.
***
The End
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