[One-shot] to Heart
Title: to Heart
Pairings/Groups: Yara/Yamamoto featuring T&T, THEY Budou, Tatsumi, and Tamamori.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction.
Summary: AU within an AU - Yamamoto wakes up and something's not quite right.
Warnings: None
Word Count/Notes: For yararanger during jerainbowbridge! ♥♥♥ Is a bit weird and unexplained, but despite all the hysterics of writing this, I enjoyed creating it. ♥ :DDDD Many thanks to omoikkiri for the beta job and to everyone who was involved in making sure I didn't dive off the deep end. (Title taken from a Kinki Kids' song.)
“No.” Yara stood firm, jaw clenched as he locked gazes with Takizawa. “I’m staying.”
Takizawa sighed, shaking his head. “It’s been too long, Yara… I know you want to stay, but it’s better for both of you like this. You can’t stay here.”
“He needs me,” Yara bit out, tension rippling through his body. He didn’t stand a chance, but even if he knew that, he was going to fight to stay.
“Which is exactly why you need to leave,” Takizawa told him, frowning. “He can’t rely on you forever, he needs to learn how to stand on his own. You’re leaving.”
Yara scrambled as he realized reality was dissolving around him already. “Wait! Don’t I get to say goodbye?! What will you tell him?” But everything went grey before he could get his answer.
Takizawa watched as Yara vanished with a crackle of gold sparks. There was regret written all over Takki’s face before he crossed the room to the bed, where a figure lay curled in the blankets. It was the one last thing he needed to do before he left.
Gently placing a hand on Yamamoto’s forehead, Takizawa gazed at his face. “It’s the best for both of you,” he repeated, before pulling his hand away, soft silvery strands following his fingers to form a small ball of light.
In his sleep, Yamamoto shivered, groping for the blankets to replace lost warmth.
***
When Yamamoto woke up, his first instinct was to roll onto his side and throw his arm over… nothing. His eyes snapped open and he frowned at the empty space next to him. He was oddly huddled on the left side of his bed and he wasn’t sure why, since he always slept in the middle. His hand smoothed over the sheets, letting his mind catch up with the rest of his body.
Eventually he pulled himself up, trying to flatten sleep-mussed hair and groping for his phone to check for messages.
It was Saturday and he knew he had plans, but he couldn’t quite fathom what they were. Rubbing his eyes, he shuffled into the bathroom, toes cold against the tiles as he stared into the mirror. “I don’t remember what I dreamed about,” he told his reflection. “I wish I could.”
Maybe it was just the grey skies, Yamamoto mused as he shifted through clothes for the day. He was feeling strangely lethargic, which prompted him to pull out his favorite neon tie-dyed t-shirt and artfully ripped jeans. Something to spruce things up.
It wasn’t until he was sorting through his necklaces that he remembered making plans to go shopping with Eda and Hayashi at noon, leaving him fifteen minutes to get ready and out the door.
“You’re late,” Hayashi said as soon as Yamamoto ran up, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“I know…” Yamamoto mumbled, ducking his head. “I slept in and totally forgot.”
“I’m wounded,” Eda said, clutching at his heart. “How could you forget, I talked to you about it last night!”
“Mou!” Yamamoto pouted, elbowing Eda before tugging his jacket tighter around himself. He didn’t feel quite so foggy as he had earlier that morning, but the skies still hung grey and miserable over him.
“Let’s go,” Hayashi interrupted them both, hands on their shoulders to steer them in the right direction. “I need some new jeans and a pair of boots.”
“Wait, wait,” Yamamoto dug his heels in, eyes drawn to the storefront they were passing. A peek at the window showed warm lighting and balls of fur rolling around together. A pet shop. “Can we go in there?”
Eda and Hayashi looked at each other with long-suffering expressions, far too used to Yamamoto’s flighty attention span to really mind. “Yes, but it’s not like any of us can get anything…” Hayashi reminded him. Unfortunately none of their apartment complexes allowed for furry creatures.
“Unless you’re getting fish,” Eda added. “But you get to carry your own fish.”
Puffing his cheeks out, Yamamoto glowered at Eda. “I don’t want fish anyways.” He actually liked fish but he decidedly didn’t like tricking fish into thinking they were in the ocean when they were really just in a glass bowl. (Which was ridiculous, he knew well enough, but it was a thought he couldn’t shake.)
They stepped into the pet shop and the smell of sawdust and dried grass filled Yamamoto’s nose. Veering away from the other two, he began trawling his way through the rows of cages, fingers brushing over wire and glass as he looked at puppies and colorful birds, but it wasn’t until he got to the back corner that he came to a stop.
Curled around itself in charming little ringlets was a snake (“Cornsnake,” the sign read). Curious, Yamamoto leaned down until he and the snake were eye-level, his fingertips resting on the glass tank.
“Aren’t you a pretty little lady,” Yamamoto murmured under his breath, smiling faintly. He’d never liked snakes before, but for some reason he felt an inexplicable urge to take this one home. She (he was sure it was a she) was small and delicate, and he could imagine her nestling around his neck as he did his homework.
Which was a weird idea once he thought about it, but a part of him still liked it.
He didn’t realize how long he had been staring at the snake until Eda was tugging on his arm. “Ryouta… Ryouta, c’mon, you’ve been staring at that snake for ages. Do you want it?”
“I…” Yamamoto tore his eyes away from the snake, straightening. He felt sheepishly compelled to smooth down the front of his shirt. “No. I’m good.”
He tried to remind himself that he didn’t actually like snakes as they left the pet-shop, though his mind would stray back to it whenever he was given a spare moment. Hayashi, taking note of his distractedness, began coaxing him with a new line of t-shirts and Yamamoto soon forgot about the snake and any other strange thoughts clinging to the edge of his conscious.
That night, after finally unwinding from the day out, Yamamoto found himself automatically settling himself on the left side of his bed.
***
Takizawa found Yara in the Observatory, hunched over one of the mirrors, watching something.
“Tsubasa said you’d holed yourself up here as soon as you returned.” As Takizawa stepped over the threshold, he peered at the mirror, unsurprised that Yamamoto’s sleeping form was in its reflection. He gently rested a hand on Yara’s shoulder. “He’s forgotten you, Yara… watching him is only going to make it worse for you.”
Yara shrugged his hand away, eyes intent on the mirror. He knew that Takizawa was right, that it’d be easier to get over it and move on if he stayed away completely.
But the thing was that he didn’t want to move on.
***
Yamamoto was hopelessly tangled in the sheets when he woke up on Sunday, his head buzzing from deep sleep as he yawned.
He was on the left side of his bed again, pillows strewn around, and he had one clutched against his chest, which he must have grabbed in his sleep.
Though he’d gone to bed early, it was still nearly eleven by the time he hauled himself into the bathroom, fumbling for his toothbrush, hoping some minty freshness would help him wake up.
His phone rang right as he finished washing his face. Shuffling back into his bedroom, he flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hey, Ryou-chan,” Takahashi’s cheerful voice came from the phone. “Wanna come hang out? I tried texting you last night but you never answered.”
“Oh!” Yamamoto bit his lip. “Sorry, I fell asleep early… Where do you want to meet?”
Takahashi gave him the location and soon hung up, leaving Yamamoto with another outfit to find.
Surprisingly, he was actually on time to meeting Takahashi, flashing the other a smile while tugging off his sunglasses. “Hey, Ryu~.”
Ryu flashed him a peace sign. “Yo!”
Stifling a yawn, Yamamoto glanced around them. “Can we stop by Starbucks? I’ve been so tired lately.”
“Mm?” Takahashi peered at him for a moment before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, there’s one like a block down that way, I think.”
Yamamoto yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “Awesome.”
“You okay?” Takahashi asked as they started walking, glancing occasionally at Yamamoto. “You look like you haven’t slept all week.”
“I dunno,” Yamamoto replied with a small shrug, before flashing Takahashi a smile. “I mean, I’m fine, I’m just tired… I don’t think I was ready for autumn to come.” The grey skies and skyscrapers blending together made him feel oddly insect-like, too small in a world too large, and he kept his eyes trained on the splash of graffiti print on Takahashi’s shirt.
“You are a summer boy, aren’t you,” Takahashi commented with a laugh as they found their way to Starbucks. “It’ll come back soon enough. You’ll just have to deco a thermos and carry soup around, hm?”
“Right.” Yamamoto couldn’t help but laugh as well, cheered by the idea. Maybe he could get some gold paint with some rhinestones and redo his bento box too.
But he forgot all of that as they were about to enter Starbucks, halting halfway through the door to peer at a group of guys about their age on the other side of the street. Street dancers.
He watched as one stepped into the center of the loose circle they had formed, beginning to freestyle. There was a strange power and grace to the moves and Yamamoto felt a surge of admiration.
“Ryou-chan?” Takahashi tapped on Yamamoto’s shoulder. “Earth to Ryou-chan, Starbucks is this way.”
“Oh… Right, sorry.” Yamamoto flushed in embarrassment, but still turned back to the dancers, hand frozen on the door. “I… can we go dance with them?”
“What?” Takahashi blinked in bewilderment, as if Yamamoto had sprouted a third eye. “Uhmmmm. How about not… I don’t want to be the one explaining to your mom that you broke your neck trying to do a hand-stand.”
Yamamoto frowned, but reluctantly stepped into the café. Takahashi was right; it wasn’t like he really knew how to dance, though he was sure that a hand-stand wouldn’t be that difficult.
But his eyes were on the street dancers during the entire time it took them to drink their frappuccinos.
***
Frowning in concern, Yara smoothed a thumb over Yamamoto’s reflection, as if he could somehow smooth away the other’s confused expression. “What’s up, Ryouta?”
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel disappointed or not, that Yamamoto didn’t seem to remember him. He knew well enough that Takizawa had removed all memories of Yara from the boy, but Yara almost thought there should have been…
But he stopped himself before he could finish that thought, wiping the mirror blank. Deactivated, it worked like any other mirror, showing Yara his own face. He reached up and traced a fingertip over his own jawline.
It was strange, but despite feeling the set of his own jaw and the weight of the bags under his eyes, he felt as if his reflection was fake after watching Yamamoto for so long. Eventually he turned away, leaving the Observatory and his reflection behind.
His own memories of Yamamoto, however, continued to dance through his mind.
***
“Ah, I found you!” Tatsumi said in way of greeting, slinging an arm around Yamamoto’s shoulders. “You’re so tiny, the crowd totally swallows you up.” They were outside the Imperial Garden Theater, where Endless SHOCK was currently running. How Tatsumi had managed to get his hands on tickets for front-row seats was beyond Yamamoto, but it was not an opportunity to be turned down.
“Hey!” Yamamoto puffed his cheeks out, nudging Tatsumi. “I am not the shortest one here, okay.”
He was met with an expression of pained amusement from Tatsumi and realized his error.
“I guess I am…” he admitted, flailing slightly in embarrassment as Tatsumi started laughing. “Hey, hey! Shut up!”
“It’s okay, cute little brothers are supposed to be short,” Tatsumi teased, petting Yamamoto’s hair just because he could. “Ready to go?”
“Shouldn’t we wait for…?” Yamamoto blinked, glancing over his shoulder. He half expected someone to materialize from the milling crowd, then was equally confused by the expectation and the fact that nobody did.
“Did you invite someone else?” Tatsumi asked, following Yamamoto’s gaze, mystified.
Scanning the crowd again (what was he looking for, he wasn’t sure), Yamamoto shook his head. “No… Sorry, let’s go,” he said, allowing Tatsumi to guide him into the line into the theater.
But while the show was fantastic and Domoto Koichi was completely awe-inspiring, Yamamoto couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman sitting to his left should have been someone he knew.
***
Yara missed him.
It was impossible not to. He’d hear someone laugh in the distance and realize it wasn’t Yamamoto’s laugh; he’d reach for Yamamoto’s hand and realize that he wasn’t there at all; he’d wake up, reaching for Yamamoto and nobody would be there.
It was what brought him padding back into the Observatory. He tucked bare feet under himself as he gently touched one of the mirrors, watching as his reflection flickered for a moment before bringing him Yamamoto.
Yamamoto was laughing, and it made Yara’s heart clench. He was happy, and for that Yara was glad… but a part of him wanted to still be there, to be a part of that happiness. It wasn’t just for Yamamoto, but for himself. Yara had been happy too.
Something like regret surged through him and he tapped the glass surface of the mirror, sending Yamamoto out of focus, then quickly turned away.
Takizawa was right, Yara thought as he quickly slipped out of the Observatory. Watching Yamamoto wasn’t going to help anything, but he’d grown so used to keeping watch over the other, enjoying his company… it wasn’t a habit he could just quit.
Tsubasa was in the hallway when Yara shut the door to the Observatory, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the nearest wall. “Thought you’d be in here.”
Yara smiled dryly, shrugging. “It’s predictable.”
“Hide’s worried about you,” Tsubasa informed him, falling into step next to Yara as they headed down the hallway. The way Tsubasa spoke was gentle, but firm. “You know it couldn’t have happened differently.”
Yara kept on walking, fingers brushing along the wall as they walked, considering the other’s words. “I know,” he said finally. “But it doesn’t mean I like it.” And he didn’t. Maybe staying longer had been a mistake, but he didn’t see it like that. He’d loved every moment of extra time he’d been given and all the people who’d been a part of it. The shows with Tatsumi, the dancing with Dom and the rest, and road-trips to the sea….
And somewhere, in the center of it, was Yamamoto Ryouta.
“Just… be careful,” Tsubasa said finally, turning to face Yara. “Okay?”
Yara just nodded, smiling and shrugging again. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. But a part of him knew he didn’t want to give up. A part of him wanted to fight it, because he knew exactly how to be happy already.
***
The words on the page of Yamamoto’s textbook were starting to blur together so he pushed it away, rubbing his eyes.
“Ready for a break?” Tamamori asked, “Pencil-san’s been very busy.”
Yamamoto snorted but leaned back against the bedframe. “I’m so done with this…”
There were snacks, textbooks, and other school materials scattered around Yamamoto’s floor. He pushed aside a bag of chips so he could stretch his legs out properly. Nearby, Tamamori had set down his precious pencil-san, sprawled out on his stomach as he played with the spine of his notebook.
“Tama-chan…” Yamamoto began, closing his eyes and leaning his head back so it rested against his mattress. “Are you happy?”
Though unseen, Tamamori blinked at him before shrugging, easily answering. “Yeah.”
“… Good,” Yamamoto said, because at least that made one of them. “Because I’m not.”
It was only because he and Tamamori had known each other for so long that Yamamoto knew Tamamori was waiting for him to go on, an unspoken ‘why’ drifting through the air.
“I don’t know why,” he began, eyes still closed because he was trying to sort himself out. The problem was that there didn’t seem to be anything to sort out, as though the problem had simply removed itself from him, though it continued to be a problem. “I just… I keep on waking up and doing things and expecting… expecting someone to be there.”
He opened his eyes, bringing his hand up so he could examine it, eyes tracing the lines in his palm. “I don’t know what’s wrong, and I can’t figure it out… I don’t know, I just don’t like it.” And although Yamamoto knew Tamamori, at least, wouldn't think he was crazy, he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud.
But he hoped that whoever wasn’t there would just come back.
He was tired of feeling empty.
***
There was something fraying at the edge of his consciousness, a constant nagging sensation that Yara couldn’t shake and it was starting to drive him mad. Nobody seemed to have the answers he was looking for, but he was beginning to think that he himself had known the answer the whole time.
He strode through the maze of hallways, passing the Observatory. Watching wasn’t what he wanted. Watching wouldn’t change a thing. There was nothing to be gained from sitting idle, but that was something he’d known from the start, deep down inside.
Tsubasa shot him a questioning look as he passed by, barging into Takizawa’s room.
“I want to go back.”
Takizawa paused, carefully setting the crystal he’d been handling back into its pouch. “You can’t.”
“I want to go back,” Yara repeated, shoulders squared and head held high.
“Yara, we’ve been over this,” Takizawa said, rounding his desk so he could face Yara properly. “You were already there too long. You need to put this behind you. It’s not just about his dependency on you, you need to learn how to exist without him too.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Yara stared into the man’s eyes and felt like laughing. It was like all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place and he knew. “Let me go back, Takizawa.”
They stood there for a long moment, gazes locked, before Takizawa sighed, leaning back against his desk. “Why?” he asked finally. “Why should I let you? I can’t let you go back just because you need him, Yara.”
There was a moment of perfect clarity as Yara met Takizawa’s eyes again. “I don’t need him,” he said, perfectly sure. “I want him.”
***
Yamamoto slowly swam back to consciousness, too warm and comfortable to be hurried. Fingers ran through his hair and his eyes fluttered open. It took him a few moments to blink his world into focus.
Yara smiled down at him, stroking through his hair.
“Yaracchi?” he mumbled, muzzy with sleep. “Where have you been? I was… waiting.”
Chuckling, Yara leaned down, brushing his lips against Yamamoto’s forehead. “I know… but I’m back now.”
Pairings/Groups: Yara/Yamamoto featuring T&T, THEY Budou, Tatsumi, and Tamamori.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction.
Summary: AU within an AU - Yamamoto wakes up and something's not quite right.
Warnings: None
Word Count/Notes: For yararanger during jerainbowbridge! ♥♥♥ Is a bit weird and unexplained, but despite all the hysterics of writing this, I enjoyed creating it. ♥ :DDDD Many thanks to omoikkiri for the beta job and to everyone who was involved in making sure I didn't dive off the deep end. (Title taken from a Kinki Kids' song.)
“No.” Yara stood firm, jaw clenched as he locked gazes with Takizawa. “I’m staying.”
Takizawa sighed, shaking his head. “It’s been too long, Yara… I know you want to stay, but it’s better for both of you like this. You can’t stay here.”
“He needs me,” Yara bit out, tension rippling through his body. He didn’t stand a chance, but even if he knew that, he was going to fight to stay.
“Which is exactly why you need to leave,” Takizawa told him, frowning. “He can’t rely on you forever, he needs to learn how to stand on his own. You’re leaving.”
Yara scrambled as he realized reality was dissolving around him already. “Wait! Don’t I get to say goodbye?! What will you tell him?” But everything went grey before he could get his answer.
Takizawa watched as Yara vanished with a crackle of gold sparks. There was regret written all over Takki’s face before he crossed the room to the bed, where a figure lay curled in the blankets. It was the one last thing he needed to do before he left.
Gently placing a hand on Yamamoto’s forehead, Takizawa gazed at his face. “It’s the best for both of you,” he repeated, before pulling his hand away, soft silvery strands following his fingers to form a small ball of light.
In his sleep, Yamamoto shivered, groping for the blankets to replace lost warmth.
***
When Yamamoto woke up, his first instinct was to roll onto his side and throw his arm over… nothing. His eyes snapped open and he frowned at the empty space next to him. He was oddly huddled on the left side of his bed and he wasn’t sure why, since he always slept in the middle. His hand smoothed over the sheets, letting his mind catch up with the rest of his body.
Eventually he pulled himself up, trying to flatten sleep-mussed hair and groping for his phone to check for messages.
It was Saturday and he knew he had plans, but he couldn’t quite fathom what they were. Rubbing his eyes, he shuffled into the bathroom, toes cold against the tiles as he stared into the mirror. “I don’t remember what I dreamed about,” he told his reflection. “I wish I could.”
Maybe it was just the grey skies, Yamamoto mused as he shifted through clothes for the day. He was feeling strangely lethargic, which prompted him to pull out his favorite neon tie-dyed t-shirt and artfully ripped jeans. Something to spruce things up.
It wasn’t until he was sorting through his necklaces that he remembered making plans to go shopping with Eda and Hayashi at noon, leaving him fifteen minutes to get ready and out the door.
“You’re late,” Hayashi said as soon as Yamamoto ran up, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“I know…” Yamamoto mumbled, ducking his head. “I slept in and totally forgot.”
“I’m wounded,” Eda said, clutching at his heart. “How could you forget, I talked to you about it last night!”
“Mou!” Yamamoto pouted, elbowing Eda before tugging his jacket tighter around himself. He didn’t feel quite so foggy as he had earlier that morning, but the skies still hung grey and miserable over him.
“Let’s go,” Hayashi interrupted them both, hands on their shoulders to steer them in the right direction. “I need some new jeans and a pair of boots.”
“Wait, wait,” Yamamoto dug his heels in, eyes drawn to the storefront they were passing. A peek at the window showed warm lighting and balls of fur rolling around together. A pet shop. “Can we go in there?”
Eda and Hayashi looked at each other with long-suffering expressions, far too used to Yamamoto’s flighty attention span to really mind. “Yes, but it’s not like any of us can get anything…” Hayashi reminded him. Unfortunately none of their apartment complexes allowed for furry creatures.
“Unless you’re getting fish,” Eda added. “But you get to carry your own fish.”
Puffing his cheeks out, Yamamoto glowered at Eda. “I don’t want fish anyways.” He actually liked fish but he decidedly didn’t like tricking fish into thinking they were in the ocean when they were really just in a glass bowl. (Which was ridiculous, he knew well enough, but it was a thought he couldn’t shake.)
They stepped into the pet shop and the smell of sawdust and dried grass filled Yamamoto’s nose. Veering away from the other two, he began trawling his way through the rows of cages, fingers brushing over wire and glass as he looked at puppies and colorful birds, but it wasn’t until he got to the back corner that he came to a stop.
Curled around itself in charming little ringlets was a snake (“Cornsnake,” the sign read). Curious, Yamamoto leaned down until he and the snake were eye-level, his fingertips resting on the glass tank.
“Aren’t you a pretty little lady,” Yamamoto murmured under his breath, smiling faintly. He’d never liked snakes before, but for some reason he felt an inexplicable urge to take this one home. She (he was sure it was a she) was small and delicate, and he could imagine her nestling around his neck as he did his homework.
Which was a weird idea once he thought about it, but a part of him still liked it.
He didn’t realize how long he had been staring at the snake until Eda was tugging on his arm. “Ryouta… Ryouta, c’mon, you’ve been staring at that snake for ages. Do you want it?”
“I…” Yamamoto tore his eyes away from the snake, straightening. He felt sheepishly compelled to smooth down the front of his shirt. “No. I’m good.”
He tried to remind himself that he didn’t actually like snakes as they left the pet-shop, though his mind would stray back to it whenever he was given a spare moment. Hayashi, taking note of his distractedness, began coaxing him with a new line of t-shirts and Yamamoto soon forgot about the snake and any other strange thoughts clinging to the edge of his conscious.
That night, after finally unwinding from the day out, Yamamoto found himself automatically settling himself on the left side of his bed.
***
Takizawa found Yara in the Observatory, hunched over one of the mirrors, watching something.
“Tsubasa said you’d holed yourself up here as soon as you returned.” As Takizawa stepped over the threshold, he peered at the mirror, unsurprised that Yamamoto’s sleeping form was in its reflection. He gently rested a hand on Yara’s shoulder. “He’s forgotten you, Yara… watching him is only going to make it worse for you.”
Yara shrugged his hand away, eyes intent on the mirror. He knew that Takizawa was right, that it’d be easier to get over it and move on if he stayed away completely.
But the thing was that he didn’t want to move on.
***
Yamamoto was hopelessly tangled in the sheets when he woke up on Sunday, his head buzzing from deep sleep as he yawned.
He was on the left side of his bed again, pillows strewn around, and he had one clutched against his chest, which he must have grabbed in his sleep.
Though he’d gone to bed early, it was still nearly eleven by the time he hauled himself into the bathroom, fumbling for his toothbrush, hoping some minty freshness would help him wake up.
His phone rang right as he finished washing his face. Shuffling back into his bedroom, he flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hey, Ryou-chan,” Takahashi’s cheerful voice came from the phone. “Wanna come hang out? I tried texting you last night but you never answered.”
“Oh!” Yamamoto bit his lip. “Sorry, I fell asleep early… Where do you want to meet?”
Takahashi gave him the location and soon hung up, leaving Yamamoto with another outfit to find.
Surprisingly, he was actually on time to meeting Takahashi, flashing the other a smile while tugging off his sunglasses. “Hey, Ryu~.”
Ryu flashed him a peace sign. “Yo!”
Stifling a yawn, Yamamoto glanced around them. “Can we stop by Starbucks? I’ve been so tired lately.”
“Mm?” Takahashi peered at him for a moment before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, there’s one like a block down that way, I think.”
Yamamoto yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “Awesome.”
“You okay?” Takahashi asked as they started walking, glancing occasionally at Yamamoto. “You look like you haven’t slept all week.”
“I dunno,” Yamamoto replied with a small shrug, before flashing Takahashi a smile. “I mean, I’m fine, I’m just tired… I don’t think I was ready for autumn to come.” The grey skies and skyscrapers blending together made him feel oddly insect-like, too small in a world too large, and he kept his eyes trained on the splash of graffiti print on Takahashi’s shirt.
“You are a summer boy, aren’t you,” Takahashi commented with a laugh as they found their way to Starbucks. “It’ll come back soon enough. You’ll just have to deco a thermos and carry soup around, hm?”
“Right.” Yamamoto couldn’t help but laugh as well, cheered by the idea. Maybe he could get some gold paint with some rhinestones and redo his bento box too.
But he forgot all of that as they were about to enter Starbucks, halting halfway through the door to peer at a group of guys about their age on the other side of the street. Street dancers.
He watched as one stepped into the center of the loose circle they had formed, beginning to freestyle. There was a strange power and grace to the moves and Yamamoto felt a surge of admiration.
“Ryou-chan?” Takahashi tapped on Yamamoto’s shoulder. “Earth to Ryou-chan, Starbucks is this way.”
“Oh… Right, sorry.” Yamamoto flushed in embarrassment, but still turned back to the dancers, hand frozen on the door. “I… can we go dance with them?”
“What?” Takahashi blinked in bewilderment, as if Yamamoto had sprouted a third eye. “Uhmmmm. How about not… I don’t want to be the one explaining to your mom that you broke your neck trying to do a hand-stand.”
Yamamoto frowned, but reluctantly stepped into the café. Takahashi was right; it wasn’t like he really knew how to dance, though he was sure that a hand-stand wouldn’t be that difficult.
But his eyes were on the street dancers during the entire time it took them to drink their frappuccinos.
***
Frowning in concern, Yara smoothed a thumb over Yamamoto’s reflection, as if he could somehow smooth away the other’s confused expression. “What’s up, Ryouta?”
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel disappointed or not, that Yamamoto didn’t seem to remember him. He knew well enough that Takizawa had removed all memories of Yara from the boy, but Yara almost thought there should have been…
But he stopped himself before he could finish that thought, wiping the mirror blank. Deactivated, it worked like any other mirror, showing Yara his own face. He reached up and traced a fingertip over his own jawline.
It was strange, but despite feeling the set of his own jaw and the weight of the bags under his eyes, he felt as if his reflection was fake after watching Yamamoto for so long. Eventually he turned away, leaving the Observatory and his reflection behind.
His own memories of Yamamoto, however, continued to dance through his mind.
***
“Ah, I found you!” Tatsumi said in way of greeting, slinging an arm around Yamamoto’s shoulders. “You’re so tiny, the crowd totally swallows you up.” They were outside the Imperial Garden Theater, where Endless SHOCK was currently running. How Tatsumi had managed to get his hands on tickets for front-row seats was beyond Yamamoto, but it was not an opportunity to be turned down.
“Hey!” Yamamoto puffed his cheeks out, nudging Tatsumi. “I am not the shortest one here, okay.”
He was met with an expression of pained amusement from Tatsumi and realized his error.
“I guess I am…” he admitted, flailing slightly in embarrassment as Tatsumi started laughing. “Hey, hey! Shut up!”
“It’s okay, cute little brothers are supposed to be short,” Tatsumi teased, petting Yamamoto’s hair just because he could. “Ready to go?”
“Shouldn’t we wait for…?” Yamamoto blinked, glancing over his shoulder. He half expected someone to materialize from the milling crowd, then was equally confused by the expectation and the fact that nobody did.
“Did you invite someone else?” Tatsumi asked, following Yamamoto’s gaze, mystified.
Scanning the crowd again (what was he looking for, he wasn’t sure), Yamamoto shook his head. “No… Sorry, let’s go,” he said, allowing Tatsumi to guide him into the line into the theater.
But while the show was fantastic and Domoto Koichi was completely awe-inspiring, Yamamoto couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman sitting to his left should have been someone he knew.
***
Yara missed him.
It was impossible not to. He’d hear someone laugh in the distance and realize it wasn’t Yamamoto’s laugh; he’d reach for Yamamoto’s hand and realize that he wasn’t there at all; he’d wake up, reaching for Yamamoto and nobody would be there.
It was what brought him padding back into the Observatory. He tucked bare feet under himself as he gently touched one of the mirrors, watching as his reflection flickered for a moment before bringing him Yamamoto.
Yamamoto was laughing, and it made Yara’s heart clench. He was happy, and for that Yara was glad… but a part of him wanted to still be there, to be a part of that happiness. It wasn’t just for Yamamoto, but for himself. Yara had been happy too.
Something like regret surged through him and he tapped the glass surface of the mirror, sending Yamamoto out of focus, then quickly turned away.
Takizawa was right, Yara thought as he quickly slipped out of the Observatory. Watching Yamamoto wasn’t going to help anything, but he’d grown so used to keeping watch over the other, enjoying his company… it wasn’t a habit he could just quit.
Tsubasa was in the hallway when Yara shut the door to the Observatory, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the nearest wall. “Thought you’d be in here.”
Yara smiled dryly, shrugging. “It’s predictable.”
“Hide’s worried about you,” Tsubasa informed him, falling into step next to Yara as they headed down the hallway. The way Tsubasa spoke was gentle, but firm. “You know it couldn’t have happened differently.”
Yara kept on walking, fingers brushing along the wall as they walked, considering the other’s words. “I know,” he said finally. “But it doesn’t mean I like it.” And he didn’t. Maybe staying longer had been a mistake, but he didn’t see it like that. He’d loved every moment of extra time he’d been given and all the people who’d been a part of it. The shows with Tatsumi, the dancing with Dom and the rest, and road-trips to the sea….
And somewhere, in the center of it, was Yamamoto Ryouta.
“Just… be careful,” Tsubasa said finally, turning to face Yara. “Okay?”
Yara just nodded, smiling and shrugging again. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore. But a part of him knew he didn’t want to give up. A part of him wanted to fight it, because he knew exactly how to be happy already.
***
The words on the page of Yamamoto’s textbook were starting to blur together so he pushed it away, rubbing his eyes.
“Ready for a break?” Tamamori asked, “Pencil-san’s been very busy.”
Yamamoto snorted but leaned back against the bedframe. “I’m so done with this…”
There were snacks, textbooks, and other school materials scattered around Yamamoto’s floor. He pushed aside a bag of chips so he could stretch his legs out properly. Nearby, Tamamori had set down his precious pencil-san, sprawled out on his stomach as he played with the spine of his notebook.
“Tama-chan…” Yamamoto began, closing his eyes and leaning his head back so it rested against his mattress. “Are you happy?”
Though unseen, Tamamori blinked at him before shrugging, easily answering. “Yeah.”
“… Good,” Yamamoto said, because at least that made one of them. “Because I’m not.”
It was only because he and Tamamori had known each other for so long that Yamamoto knew Tamamori was waiting for him to go on, an unspoken ‘why’ drifting through the air.
“I don’t know why,” he began, eyes still closed because he was trying to sort himself out. The problem was that there didn’t seem to be anything to sort out, as though the problem had simply removed itself from him, though it continued to be a problem. “I just… I keep on waking up and doing things and expecting… expecting someone to be there.”
He opened his eyes, bringing his hand up so he could examine it, eyes tracing the lines in his palm. “I don’t know what’s wrong, and I can’t figure it out… I don’t know, I just don’t like it.” And although Yamamoto knew Tamamori, at least, wouldn't think he was crazy, he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud.
But he hoped that whoever wasn’t there would just come back.
He was tired of feeling empty.
***
There was something fraying at the edge of his consciousness, a constant nagging sensation that Yara couldn’t shake and it was starting to drive him mad. Nobody seemed to have the answers he was looking for, but he was beginning to think that he himself had known the answer the whole time.
He strode through the maze of hallways, passing the Observatory. Watching wasn’t what he wanted. Watching wouldn’t change a thing. There was nothing to be gained from sitting idle, but that was something he’d known from the start, deep down inside.
Tsubasa shot him a questioning look as he passed by, barging into Takizawa’s room.
“I want to go back.”
Takizawa paused, carefully setting the crystal he’d been handling back into its pouch. “You can’t.”
“I want to go back,” Yara repeated, shoulders squared and head held high.
“Yara, we’ve been over this,” Takizawa said, rounding his desk so he could face Yara properly. “You were already there too long. You need to put this behind you. It’s not just about his dependency on you, you need to learn how to exist without him too.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Yara stared into the man’s eyes and felt like laughing. It was like all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place and he knew. “Let me go back, Takizawa.”
They stood there for a long moment, gazes locked, before Takizawa sighed, leaning back against his desk. “Why?” he asked finally. “Why should I let you? I can’t let you go back just because you need him, Yara.”
There was a moment of perfect clarity as Yara met Takizawa’s eyes again. “I don’t need him,” he said, perfectly sure. “I want him.”
***
Yamamoto slowly swam back to consciousness, too warm and comfortable to be hurried. Fingers ran through his hair and his eyes fluttered open. It took him a few moments to blink his world into focus.
Yara smiled down at him, stroking through his hair.
“Yaracchi?” he mumbled, muzzy with sleep. “Where have you been? I was… waiting.”
Chuckling, Yara leaned down, brushing his lips against Yamamoto’s forehead. “I know… but I’m back now.”