fic: Baby, Take Me Down (4/4)
Kame never goes back home to collect his belongings. He refuses to let Yamapi take the honour because he’s not some helpless maiden whose prince charming has to do all the heavy lifting. He simply chooses not to, because he wants nothing to do with the place anymore, or the memories for that matter. He buys himself hygiene necessities from the nearby convenience store and borrows Yamapi’s clothes until he has more money to afford new ones. The pay for a café servant isn’t particularly high. He’s used to minimalistic living.
The endless phone calls and voice mails from Jin to both of them are maybe the hardest. Kame does his best to act nonchalant but his act is failing and there are days when he doesn’t turn his mobile on at all just because he needs a break. Yamapi turns his own one on vibrate and stops listening to the voicemails after a few particularly nasty drunken threats and verbal abuse.
What the fuck have you done, Pi, reads a text from Ryo. He isn’t mad, though, not mostly. He stops by one evening when Kame’s out with his friends to have a few bottles of beer and talk things out, hear his version of the story. It’s better than Jin’s outraged version flooded with curse words and odd English slang. He isn’t doing very well, apparently. Then again, he’d dug his own grave. He’s only got himself to blame, even Ryo agrees.
He doesn’t expect to find Jin inside his home one day when he comes back from work, though. He hasn’t expected the man to grow the balls to actually come within a mile from his doorstep, but sometimes he might really underestimate his ex-friend, he assumes as the sound of his voice floods his ears as soon as he opens the front door. It’s so loud no one notices his presence. He feels sick to his gut.
“I need you, Kazu,” Jin’s voice begs. His tone is sweet and husky but it lacks the sexual edge. He’s not here for a booty call, not judging by his tone. He’s got something much more important on the line. “Baby, please. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t call me baby,” Kame snorts coldly. His voice is shaky and threatens to break, just like his shattered emotions under the strong façade he keeps putting up. Yamapi starts walking slowly towards the muffled voices. His blood is starting to boil hotly in his veins. Jin must seriously have guts to walk in here and beg Kame to come back after all he’s done.
“Can we talk about it?” Jin’s voice asks desperately. It’s an octave or so higher than usually - he’s feeling really edgy. “I’ll tell you the truth. I’ll admit to it, I’ll seriously spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just please come back. I’ll never do it again. This time I’ll really stop, I swear. This time it won’t happen again!”
“Just save it.” There’s a rustle, a sound of a struggle and Yamapi feels the fury kicking in as he follows the sounds, passes through the kitchen and on to the bedroom where Kame has shoved Jin to the ground where he sits breathlessly, eyes wide and teary.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls dangerously from the doorframe, eyes glued to Jin’s form. Jin stumbles up on his feet, hardening up. He’s lost, mad and hurt beyond belief as he starts walking closer to him, the corners of his lips tugging upwards bitterly. Yamapi tries to swallow the lump in his throat.
They obviously aren’t friends anymore. Those feelings are nearly gone as they face each other, both pairs of eyes cold and cruel. This is his home, though, and this is his relationship now too. It’s Jin’s own fault for fucking everything up. He could’ve had what he wanted had he not thrown it away so easily. He isn’t about to do the same mistake. He’s more sensible than Jin.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” Jin spits at him and Yamapi barely has the time to take a step back to the kitchen area to dodge Jin’s furious fist about to collide with his cheekbone. His heart hammers in his chest as he raises his hands to protect himself from the blows, just in case Jin’s still up for that.
“I could ask the same from you,” Yamapi barks, feeling his protective instincts kicking in. Kame’s getting himself back together, and he doesn’t seem particularly impressed by them acting all macho against each other. There’s no helping it, though. Not with the painful feelings and betrayals hanging in the air between them.
Jin’s eyes flash spite as he takes another step forward, ready to smash him into a pulp. Yamapi dodges the blow coming his way and grabs Jin’s fist, embracing himself for what will probably prove to be the worst fight they’ve ever had.
“HE WAS MY BOYFRIEND!” Jin roars at him and yanks his fist away. Yamapi takes the next punch with his arm, clenching his muscles to take the worst edge of it off. He can still swear there’s a bruise forming as he draws his own fist back furiously. He doesn’t have the time to deliver his attack before Jin’s fist sinks in his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs.
Yamapi coughs and feels his knees give in. He curls up helplessly as Jin kicks his back with all his might, unable to withhold his hurt feelings. “HE WAS MY MOTHERFUCKING BOYFRIEND, YOU SHIT HOLE! I TRUSTED YOU! YOU HAD NO RIGHT! You had no fucking right...!”
“Get off him,” Kame’s determined voice cuts in and Jin’s next attempt to punch him fails. From the corner of his eye Yamapi sees a foot with painted fingernails kicking the man’s arm out of aim. There’s a struggle, swearwords and when Yamapi has backed away enough to get back on his feet to lick his wounds, he turns to see Kame holding a sobbing Jin forcibly in his arms.
He doesn’t remember the last time he saw his friend cry, and he doubts it’s ever been quite like this. It’s raw, ugly and scary as Jin buries his face in Kame’s shoulder, fists clenched but arms trapped in Kame’s. “You cheated on me,” he cries with a quiet and broken voice that sends tremors running up Yamapi’s spine. All he can do is stare and internalize the weight of the pair’s feelings, what he’s really ended up messing with.
Kame hushes Jin swiftly and runs his shaky fingers through his hair, keeping his head safely on his shoulder to face away from Yamapi, in case it sparks up his aggression again. He looks at Yamapi’s eyes, looking shaken but in control of his feelings. It’d be more calming if he didn’t hold Jin so close to him.
“Jin, I think you should leave,” he speaks softly, his voice strained but calm. “Just go. You’re scaring me.” The sound of reason. It’s good that someone here has it, even under all the pressure. Yamapi can’t really access his.
Jin flinches in Kame’s arms and looks up at him. He’s gasping for air, face painted with red splotches. Kame snorts a little and lets go of him experimentally, wondering warily if it’s a safe move. “Don’t be a baby,” he scoffs, close to looking bitter and pissed again. “Just suck it up and go. You’re the last person who has the right to come here and complain about that.”
“You don’t love me anymore,” Jin hiccups, his voice shaky with the fear he’s mothering. “You’re not in love with me anymore.” Yamapi hears the forthcoming sobs that rack his body. His own vision goes blurry and he gasps for air.
“Go home,” Kame answers determinately. His lips are tightly pressed together as he turns Jin around gently with his hands and starts guiding him towards the foyer. “Get downstairs and call a taxi, don’t drive in this condition. Or use the underground. Just be careful when you cross the roads.”
Tears fall from Jin’s eyes, slide down his face and drop from his chin. “I’ll fucking kill him,” he whispers hollowly, eyes empty as he turns around in the foyer to look back inside the house to see Yamapi standing still at the end of the narrow corridor. Kame sighs and turns Jin’s head to him with his hands, catching his attention again.
“No, you won’t,” he tells him softly. “We both know you won’t.” Jin’s lip quivers. He looks broken beyond repair as Kame opens the door for him and helps him out. Jin’s eyes are wide as he witnesses the possible closing scene of the love of his life.
“Please,” he still whispers, not believing in the power of his words anymore even himself. Yamapi sees Kame shake his head, his hair waving slightly with the motion. He draws in a shaky breath himself, tears making their way down his face.
“Good bye, Jin,” Kame whispers softly before he pulls the door closed in front of the crying man’s face. He turns around to see Yamapi biting his knuckles, trying to contain the sudden punch of guilt. “Yamapi,” he sighs and walks over to pull Yamapi close too. Yamapi lets his eyelids slide closed as Kame rocks him comfortingly. He can’t help thinking that the comforting should go the other way around.
“A-are you alright?” he forces himself to ask Kame as he holds on to him, trying to force himself to calm down by getting his breathing back under control and biting back his tears. Kame nods in his arms and withdraws a little to press a kiss on his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“He just caught me off guard,” Kame murmurs. Yamapi gulps, examining Kame’s facial expression for hints of a breakdown. Kame bumps their noses together and closes his eyes. His breath warmly tingles on his skin.
Kame doesn’t look happy, though. He’s almost void of emotion as he strokes Yamapi’s hair. The touch feels unnatural and forced. Yamapi wonders when it turned into that, when this thing between them turned into this endless apathy.
“Do you still love him?” he splutters, unable to hold back his own fear. His question is unfair, he knows - of course Kame does, a feeling so great and overwhelming won’t die just like that, not in a few silly days. It’s barely been a week. His wounds are still fresh. There’s no way Kame doesn’t.
“Yamapi,” the man sighs heavily. There are dark circles drawn around his eyes, visual proofs of his constant inner struggle. “It’s not that simple.” It probably isn’t and he should respect that, respect Kame’s feelings. It’d just be easier if he didn’t have to come home to see Jin lashing out and begging him to come back. He doesn’t want to face the weak foundations of their relationship when he himself is so hopelessly devoted.
“Why not?” he finally snarls anxiously, squeezing Kame’s shoulders. Kame’s eyes avert and he purses his lips, not particularly eager to let Yamapi under his skin like that. It’s unfair. They’re in a relationship now, they should talk about this. “Can you move on? Are you trying?”
“I’m trying,” Kame snaps at him and pushes his hands away. He’s stressed and flipping and for a good reason too - he’s got too much going on in his head already without both Jin and Yamapi cornering him, demanding his love and understanding. “I just need to figure myself out first, alright?” he continues, shrugging as he takes a few steps back, rubbing his hands together. “People usually get a break after the end of a relationship to get themselves back together before they jump into another one. This already existed before the previous one ended. I didn’t get that opportunity, so just try to understand, alright? I’m doing my best.”
“Are you saying you want a break?” Yamapi presses, grinding his teeth together. “We can do that. If you need it,” he croaks, rubbing his temples, trying to keep calm. This is about Kame, not him. Kame’s right, he needs some time and understanding right now. He can’t just switch all of sudden. “I don’t want it but if that’s what you need then we can -”
“I don’t,” Kame groans. “That’s not what I meant. I’m in this relationship now, Yamapi, don’t doubt that. It’s just that… We started out as different people,” he sighs and sits down on the kitchen chair, burying his face in his hands. He looks shameful and burdened. “I was different. Jin… he was a part of me, you know? He belonged to my identity, the feelings I had for him, who I was with him. It was the true me, or something like that,” he gasps, removing his hands and looking at him darkly. “My identity’s just sort of fucked up now, you know. I don’t know myself. I don’t understand myself. I need to rebuild nearly everything.”
It’s painful to hear him say it. It feels weird that Kame’s going through something as radical and bizarre as what he’s describing. He thinks he’s going out of his mind too as he walks his way over to Kame and crushes him into a desperate hug. If only their worries were to dissolve so easily.
“You’re still the same person,” he tells Kame surely and pecks the corner of his eye to assure him. Kame’s breathing is heavy and anxious and his eyelids slide shut as he relaxes in Yamapi’s hold. “You’re still you. You’ve still got the best of you left. You’ll get the hang of it all soon. Just wait,” he croaks and hears Kame drawing in a shaky breath. “He can’t take all of that away from you.”
“I feel like I’m changing,” Kame mumbles, his lips quivering against Yamapi’s earlobe. “It’s like a whole new start without him, a whole new world. It’s quite frightening. Sometimes it just feels wrong.”
“It isn’t wrong,” Yamapi assures him and pulls him into a hasty kiss. It’s only then that he realises he’s breathless and close to tears too. “This world, it isn’t wrong at all. You’re just scared of it. You’re scared of all the possibilities. You’re scared this might be where you actually belong.”
Kame clings to him, gasping for air to keep himself from breaking into tears. His fingers are clenching Yamapi’s hair and tugging on it painfully as Yamapi embraces him. It’s a scary moment, like they’re forced to stay still in a situation like this forever.
“I might not belong in here,” Kame finally notes, his voice shaky and uncertain. “This might not be my place after all. You can’t know that.”
It’s then that Yamapi frighteningly realises that maybe he’s caged in this relationship just like Kame used to be in his previous one.
--
Eventually, things get better. Life goes on and Yamapi gets back in contact with the friends he’s got in common with Jin. Some voice out their disapproval for both of their ruthless actions but refuse to take side in the matter. A few he falls out of touch with, though. He guesses it’s the prize he has to pay for his actions.
The relationship he shares with Kame sometimes feels like dancing on thin ice, though. He does his best to nurture it back to health, give Kame the support he needs and remind himself this isn’t how it’s always going to be. Sometimes it works. Sleep already comes easier now for both of them when they’re wrapped in each other’s arms, and their sex life occasionally sparks up again. It’s much less often than what it used to be, but the desire isn’t entirely dead which feels promising. Things could be worse. It’s all slowly getting back on track.
The best thing they’ve achieved by breaking free of Jin’s shackles is peacefully spending time together outdoors. They hit the movies once but manage to miss most of the plot while having a somewhat serious popcorn fight and making out in the back row, hidden by the darkness. Afterwards they decide to just keep to touring things that keep them more active and taking silly pictures in purikura booths.
It’s been a month since Jin’s final disappearance when they make plans with Ryo to meet up in the familiar little bar to enjoy amateur music and catch up. Kame invites one of his best friends too, someone named Koki, but he has to cancel after partying too hard the previous night.
“Can’t stand the smell of alcohol right now,” Kame sighs apologetically as he informs Yamapi about it. Yamapi knows the feeling and doesn’t press it. There will always be a second time.
They take a free table quite close to the stage with their drinks in their hands to wait for Ryo. Yamapi sends him a teasing text with a few silly emoticons and smirks at Kame who clangs their glasses together and chuckles a “Cheers!” under his breath. They discuss Kame’s plans on getting an evening job to increase his income so that he can properly take part in paying for his part of the rent. Yamapi isn’t very fond of the idea but he can understand Kame’s point. He’d hate to live off his boyfriend’s money too.
“I’ve turned in a few applications to a few bars,” Kame tells him, stirring his daiquiri with his straw. “It’s not exactly a dream job, I know, but most restaurants don’t stay open very late. My working history isn’t particularly flattering either,” he shrugs, looking quite bothered about it. “I’ll see if any of them even want me. If not, I’ll find something else. Or at least I hope so.”
“Hmm,” Yamapi nods and claps his hands to the aspiring young man who’s just finished up his quirky little love song with his acoustic guitar and a microphone on stage. The man, probably barely legal too, bows deeply with a radiant smile and jumps off the stage, paying no heed for the small stairs at the end of it. Kame chuckles amusedly and takes a sip from his drink, eyeing the door for Ryo who still hasn’t turned up.
Yamapi turns his head to see the next performer get on the stage. He feels the blood in his veins freezing as he recognizes the familiar messy black curls and a neat black suit over an eye-catching yellow dress shirt. He remembers vibrantly laughing at the colour, remembers pursed lips and shrieks of defence his friend used to have for it.
Kame falls silent apart from the slight heaviness in his breathing. He looks pained with his brow slightly furrowed and eyes simultaneously widened and narrowed, gaze averting just a bit. His knuckles have turned white with the iron grip he has on his glass and Yamapi wants to just stand up and whisper at him that it’s alright and they can just leave now, because who really cares about Ryo. That everything is alright.
Instead, he turns his head and takes in the sight of his former best friend on the piano seat, cracking his fingers nervously like he always does out of habit before he begins to play. He stretches his fingers wide and lays them gently on the keyboard, feeling the form of the keys beneath his fingertips. Jin’s head is slightly bowed and his dark fringe is covering his eyes. His mouth is pressed into a tight line and he looks like there are some kind of iron shackles wrapped around his chest, constricting his breathing.
Yamapi can’t help but wonder what awful things love really does to people. He turns his gaze to Kame again - the man’s legs are starting to fidget nervously as his eyes scan Jin up and down. Yamapi tries to reach for his hand squeezing the drink and Kame’s eyes snap back from the stage and he flinches. There’s a wild look in his eyes and he lets go of the glass with only a small brush of Yamapi’s hand.
His gaze feels accusing, like he’s done something wrong, which he is very sure he hasn’t. It melts away soon though and turns into panicky confusion as his eyes snap back at the stage where Jin has moved, pressed the first keys of the piano keyboard. A low tone echoes dangerously. Melancholy, depression, endless moroseness. It’s followed by a few higher notes, still melancholy and pained.
Yamapi can’t remember Jin playing like this in a long time. Hasn’t heard this particular piece ever, either. It is unfamiliar and threatening, making Yamapi feel like he’s come into some sort of enlightening of the bad things in life and how everything from now on will go downhill faster than he can hold on.
There’s a silence, a quiet echo. Kame draws in a shaky breath. His hand falls on his lap as he glares at the stage. Yamapi can’t tell what he’s feeling - he isn’t sure if Kame knows either, other than that he’s in pain and it’s Jin’s presence’s fault, the fault of him and his stupid piano.
It feels like the silence never ends. Yamapi’s eyes snap at Jin again and he’s just about to get up and drag Kame with him before the song continues, before Jin starts playing with keys high and cold like frost and raindrops, disbelieving yet very well aware, alone, betrayed and abandoned. Guilt creeps over Yamapi with the melancholy melody, two fingers playing back and forth and switching while the horrible echo of something desperate rises from the background.
Kame’s eyes gloss over when the song processes into something stronger, bolder, with more mid keys adding to the desperation the song transmits. It slows down again and then Jin picks the speed back up - he’s talented, has always been, unlike any other pianist Yamapi has ever come across during his lifetime. Kame’s breathing echoes hoarsely as he moves his hand in front of his mouth.
Yamapi doesn’t like it. He dislikes Kame’s reaction, dislikes the sudden weakness the man shows. He’s always been strong and unyielding, masculine with little room for undeserved compassion and love he cannot put under control. Still, there he is - listening as the first tear falls, taking in the dance Jin’s fingers undergo on the keyboard and his feet build up on the pedals.
Falling silences, building up emotions, little swirls created by melody, a higher note here and a lower there. There’s a lump in Yamapi’s throat that he can’t swallow away as he watches his friend rocking on his cushioned seat, hair moving along with his body and fingers playing like they’re stiff and shaky yet very much alive and controlled.
Kame’s trying to swallow back his tears, not particularly eager to cry in public. Yamapi glances at him and feels his first tears falling as well - he thinks he knows already how this is going to end. He can feel it in the air, see it on Jin’s beaten posture and Kame’s glossy cheeks where the teardrops reflect the light from the lamps.
After a never-ending silence foreshadowing the end, Jin’s fingers still play a short sequence of high notes like a prickled heart unable to grasp the light again and there it comes - the ending note. His fingers still rest on the keyboard though and Yamapi notices that nearly everyone is listening and watching him, he’s gotten the attention of the full room with his heartfelt song.
There’s applause. Starts quietly from the stools on the counter and spreads across the room. No whistles, no yells, just applause. Jin raises his head and scans the room. His eyes stop at Kame and his lips press together tightly again to contain a massive wave of emotion.
“Thank you,” he finally mumbles, voice hoarse like he would’ve been smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey nonstop for the last two weeks, not to mention crying his heart out. It sends shivers down Yamapi’s spine. He’s never seen Jin like this, and they’ve known each other since childhood.
“This song…” Jin continues, his gaze lowering a little as he thinks of what to say - Jin never was as skilled with speech as he was with music. Usually he doesn’t speak when he plays, apart from the thankful acknowledgements of the applauses he receives. Usually people aren’t interested enough to listen. Even now many are already falling back to their conversations, but many are still watching him. And he’s talking.
Jin’s gaze drifts away to the wall on the right and he takes a deep breath. Then he dares to look back at Kame, searching for confirmation. Kame’s staring back like he’s about to get shot to death and it scares Yamapi. He’s gone white like a sheet.
“Some time ago I got separated from someone important,” Jin speaks again, trying not to take too much time and get booed out of stage after a wonderful performance. There’s a teary look in his eyes and his facial muscles are strained, but otherwise he keeps himself composed. “While thinking back to everything… I just felt like this had to be said,” he nods shyly, slightly afraid of the crowd. “It’s called I Do. Because… I still do,” he lets out a miserable, short laugh and licks his lips. “Thank you for listening,” he still adds before bowing. There’s another round of applause as he comes down from the stage, a quieter one but still one.
Kame stands up on his feet with a creek of his chair. Yamapi gulps and stares at him, shaking his head a little - no. Please.
“I’m sorry,” Kame apologizes with a hoarse croak. Jin’s standing beside the wall near the little stairs leading to the stage. He looks desperate too, desperate to believe but scared to because there’s no promise of the desired outcome. Yamapi wonders how he knew they would be there. How he got the courage to show up like that, not to bitch and moan but to actually play from his heart.
Maybe he should’ve done that right from the start then.
Kame’s walking already, pushing through the people, stairs and tables, eyes locked with Jin’s. Yamapi draws in a shaky breath as he watches his receding back. Jin doesn’t spare him a glance, too busy standing frozen and staring at Kame. Someone whistles from somewhere and there’s a lot of whispering and laughter, some booing and disgusted, demeaning yells speaking words of homophobia - others must’ve noticed too.
Some are looking at him too, whispering. He must look like a loser here with Kame just walking away like that. He wonders if he looks like Kame’s friend or a new date. Probably like a date with the wet lashes he has. He stands up too, ready to walk out.
Kame and Jin collide and embrace each other strongly, clinging to each other like they’re out of oxygen and they can only acquire it in each other’s arms. Their faces are hidden in each other’s hair and neck. They’re trembling together, finally brought together to end the pain. Yamapi tries to speed up his steps to get the fuck out because he doesn’t want to see this. How the fuck did Jin even time this? Did he know they’d be here? Did Ryo tell him? Was this whole meeting just a scam, a granted opportunity for Jin to set things right again, never mind him? The reality is quickly hitting him and his vision is blurring while he grows angry and broken, hands shaking and balance weakened by alcohol and loss.
So, this must be something alike to what Jin went through because of him. Now he sure as hell knows that it hurts. The difference is that Jin deserved it, treating Kame the way he did, cheating and lying and speaking lowly of him without a care. He didn’t. He actually would’ve deserved the love he nurtured. But no. Love doesn’t work like that, not when a heart has been given away already.
The piano plays in his head as he pushes through the doors to the streets and pushes his fists in his pockets as he half runs his way towards home, unable to even completely acknowledge the crowd around him apart from the choking feeling they only worsen.
It’s what he deserves for stealing his best friend’s boyfriend, he assumes bitterly as he finally starts shedding tears without even making it home in time.
--
Kame doesn’t contact him again. There are no phone calls, no text messages and no visits. It feels ridiculous to think how quickly everything can change. Just a few months back he was an ordinary man with an ordinary life - he hanged out with his friends and had a crush on the cashier of a café he frequently visited. Now, though, he doesn’t really have many friends willing to offer him sympathy and his short-time boyfriend has deserted him to go back to his cheating ex. Apathy starts colouring his life.
Yamapi holds on to the pole as the metro surges through the tunnel, insistent on throwing him off balance. He studies his own reflection in the window, how blank his face really is. He’s like one of those faceless business men, except that he’s not really one.
He wonders how long it’ll take until he starts feeling better again. What does it really take to feel alive, and is it even achievable anymore? He doesn’t feel particularly close with anyone. Even the children at work can’t get more than a fake smile out of him, even though he really tries. It’s just that he’s lost and confused with no direction as to where to head to.
The metro makes a stop and people get off and on. The quantity of humans makes him feel quite insignificant. He wonders if the faith of one individual can push off the whole system. It probably can, at least somewhat. Not in his case, though, because he isn’t some mindless terrorist.
He catches a messy bun of black hair pulled back from a man’s face. His chest feels tight as he observes the person, studies the familiar features until the man happens to turn his face and stare right at him, eyes wide from surprise.
Yamapi wishes it wouldn’t hurt so much. He wishes he could read the man, but he can’t. He doubts the man can even read himself. Probably not properly, judging by his expression. He turns his head away, because he doesn’t want to pick up a fight in here. It’s better that they try to keep their breathing calm and deny each other’s existence until one of them has to get off.
Jin fidgets anxiously from afar. Yamapi gulps, studying him from the reflection in the window. He misses him. Thinks about all the years they’ve spent together, all the secrets they’ve shared and childish tantrums they’ve thrown. Being apart still feels surreal.
Then Jin moves, heads over. He’s apologizing to the people he accidentally bumps against as the metro jolts and makes his balance wobbly. Yamapi draws in a deeper breath to stay calm. He wonders what Jin wants - is he about to pick up a fight, humiliate him or what? He wishes he knew so that he could prepare himself for it and shake off the hope of making up.
It’s him who should be apologizing, after all.
Jin’s hand grabs the pole right above his and Yamapi looks up, embracing himself for the worst. Jin’s gulping though. He looks hesitant and desperate, slightly stiff from straining himself to cross the distance between them but his aura isn’t intimidating. He doesn’t even look angry. It’s confusing.
“Hello.”
Yamapi’s heart skips a beat as he stares up at his friend. They bump against each other a little as the metro makes a turn. Lights of a station flash by and then there’s a halt, a stop. Not their station, though. They’ve still got time.
It feels like a whole new start between them. A simple ‘hello’, a friendly approach. Yamapi licks his lips nervously, a habit he’s picked up from somewhere but he can’t quite place it. He feels like he’s lost his voice, but he’s quick to force it back. He wants this.
“Hello,” he answers. Neither of them is turning their gaze away. Weeks ago this kind of encounter would’ve been different - they would’ve probably bumped fists and started chattering loudly, laughing about everything. Maybe they would’ve stopped at McDonalds for a meal too. Just so that they could hang out a bit longer.
More people get on the metro and it becomes more crowded. Yamapi tries to grin and Jin answers hesitantly. It’s not all natural, but it’s coming back. Jin doesn’t look like he’s carrying a vengeance.
Yamapi starts wondering if their friendship could still bear fruit. If there’s still hope for them.
“I’m hungry~” Jin breaks his train of thoughts. His voice is a bit shaky and wobbly but he’s trying to get his old tone back. It’s annoying but funny and Yamapi’s smile probably starts reaching his eyes a little too. Their hands on the pole brush against each other. “I think I’ll go and grab something to eat. Wanna join me?”
His stomach growls just at the right time. Jin chuckles a bit and he grins back. He thinks he’s finding his smile again. There must be hope for them. Jin isn’t that good of an actor. Yamapi would never be fooled by him.
“I want a Big Mac,” he accepts the offer. He hasn’t felt this happy in weeks. “And big fries.”
“And a McFlurry,” Jin continues, gaining confidence too. “With M&M’s.”
Yamapi doesn’t know what to talk about. There isn’t anything to say, there’s nothing to tell. He knows Jin’s been with Kame and he doesn’t really want to talk about that so he can’t even ask how his friend has been doing since they’ve been apart. Still, somehow the conversation goes on almost naturally as they get off a few stations later and wander towards the nearest McDonalds. No one mentions their last meeting - they talk about the weather, savings, clothes and old memories.
They’re inseparable, Yamapi knows. If anything proves it, it’s this. They snicker at the line which surprisingly isn’t very long even though the place is crowded with very few seats left. They sit somewhere in the middle of the room near a fake plant, because all the window tables have already been reserved by other customers. It’s a new topic too, bitching about it. Maybe it’s good.
After the hamburgers they’re starting to run out of topics, though, and it becomes quieter. Yamapi licks the sauce off his fingers silently, hoping Jin will come up with something. Hoping this will work, that their try won’t be futile and their friendship forever ruined.
“I got a contract, by the way,” Jin finally mumbles, stirring his ice cream with the plastic spoon. Yamapi raises his gaze, observes him. It’s what he’s always wanted but never gotten - singers and bands might think they have it hard, but it’s nothing compared to plain pianists. Jin’s gotten a few conditional offers in the past, requiring him to sing too but he’s turned them down. It’s not that he can’t sing, but he thinks he can’t put his songs into words without ruining them. ‘Piano has its own language’, he had morosely mumbled to Yamapi back then. ‘People should just listen and respect that.’
“Congratulations,” Yamapi mumbles, still dumbfounded about the revelation. “You signed it? Is it good?”
“Just piano,” Jin nods. “It’s… nothing great, you know, I won’t make a living out of it, at least not for now. But I’ll get one album at least and I need to perform at some events. They also want to put up a webpage,” he nods, lips pursed in thought. “So that people could make reservations for me. That’s not very artist-like so I’m a bit… But it’s good.” He smiles a bit. Yamapi wonders if he understands his luck either, if he’s fully internalized what’s going on.
Yamapi’s proud of him. He deserves it. They say cheers and raise their McFlurries before taking a spoonful. Yamapi’s stomach feels engorged - he’s not used to eating this much at once anymore. He hasn’t had much of an appetite lately.
“How did you get the contract?” he picks up the conversation again, taking another spoonful. Jin grimaces a little and Yamapi wonders if this goes to the area of things-they-should-not-discuss-right-now. They have to get over it sometime, though. He thinks he’s ready. “That night?”
“Not exactly,” Jin nods, stirring his McFlurry anxiously again. “There was a recording company representative there but he chose not to disturb. He kept asking the bartender about who I was though and if I came around often. They didn’t know my name or address though, so… Well, I was there again maybe a week ago and the guy spotted me and came over. Pure luck,” he shrugs.
If someone is blessed with miracles, it’s Jin, Yamapi knows. It’s not only that, though - he’s got the skill to deserve what he gets.
“Congratulations,” Yamapi repeats, and he honestly means it. He’d take his friend out for a drink, but he doubts he can stomach anything right now after their meal. Maybe some other time. Besides, Jin must’ve celebrated the contract already with others. He’s a bit late.
“I wanted to thank you,” Jin finally splutters, though, making Yamapi’s muscles tense. Jin isn’t good at keeping silent; he doesn’t follow etiquette very well. It hurts sometimes, but Jin doesn’t want to leave things unsaid. He hates regretting not saying them later. “For everything, you know. You were a fucking asshole and I hate you for that, but… I guess you had your point. And you made me realise things. So thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Yamapi snorts, his smile gone. His arms feel heavy and there’s a prickling feeling in them as the apathy tries to creep back. Kame’s back in his head, holding his face close and kissing him tenderly. He shouldn’t be thinking about it. “I don’t deserve any thanks.”
“If it hadn’t been for you,” Jin gulps anxiously, a lump in his throat making his voice hoarse, “I never would’ve learned to fully appreciate what I have. I wouldn’t have understood that… that it might all be gone one day, you know?” He laughs hollowly and his eyes are a bit wide and panicky. It hurts to see him like that. “He just… he was always there, you know, no matter what.”
“Hmm,” Yamapi agrees. He reflects back to Kame anxiously sitting on a chair by his dining table, attempting to explain himself. He thinks of him in the car, crying, screaming at Jin through the window, obviously in pain. He still can’t understand how Jin could do that. He wonders if he ever can, no matter how much he tries to explain himself.
“…Did you love him?” Jin asks more quietly, his tone hesitant. Always so straightforward and honest like a little child. Yamapi tilts his head a little in wonder, even though he knows the answer.
“Yes,” he finally answers and takes another spoonful of his ice cream to hide the bitterness. Jin looks sorry and pitying, the friend he’s had by his side many times when he’s been rejected or broke up with someone. It’s different now, though. It wasn’t just anyone. It was Jin’s boyfriend, which makes everything so wrong. “I did.”
“…I love him too,” Jin finally answers quietly, looking at him deep in the eyes. “I’ve loved him since I was young.”
“We’re not that old yet,” Yamapi snorts and waves his hand to lighten Jin’s confession. “Don’t be silly.”
“I love him,” Jin croaks, attempts to explain why he should be with Kame and Yamapi shouldn’t. Yamapi needs to understand this, to do it for him. Jin was first and he’s useless without Kame, helpless. He’s asking for Yamapi to let him have the love they both share. It’s a lot to ask, especially after everything he’s done. Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so desperate. “It needs to be him. It just does. So… I’m not… You know, I’ll be open with the whole thing now?” he tries to explain, breathing speeding up. “I won’t cheat. I’ll treat him well. I’ll make up for everything, even if it takes the rest of my life. I’ll make it up for him. I’ll make it worth all the pain.”
“I know you will,” Yamapi agrees. He detects the wild look in Jin’s eyes - he’s still unsure, so unsure if he ever can do what he so desperately wants. If his speech isn’t an impossible task.
“So thank you,” Jin still gulps, putting his unfinished ice cream away. Yamapi does the same and they just look each other, both thinking hard if this can work out or not. If they have the strength to face each other’s lives and place their trust on each other again.
After a long consideration, Yamapi thinks he can. He thinks he really can. He smiles a bit and Jin nods. They understand each other. It’s what years spent together do. They get up on their feet and Jin walks right next to him, their shoulder lightly brushing as they head outside where it’s already getting dark. The dusk is nearly gone.
“You’re my best friend,” Jin notes, looking somewhere far in the distance, past all the lights, cars and people. Yamapi bites his lip. It’s all coming back to him again. His friends really are right - he thinks too much.
“Likewise,” he answers. They bump fists without smiling, without even looking at each other.
The world stands still. His future feels a little less hopeless now. He can finally breathe again.
--
His world is settling back on its tracks. It’s not perfect, far from it, but he can finally feel the ground under his feet. It’s all coming back in small but sure doses, which is more than he could’ve ever asked for. His life won’t end, even after everything that happened.
The world still feels incomplete though, things left hanging unfinished. He walks past display windows of already closed clothing stores and lets the ruckus of the Tokyo nightlife flood his senses. Lights, colours, sounds of traffic, people… the smell of food.
He jogs down the rocky stairs towards the underground, ready to go home and sleep off another long day. He takes a ticket from his wallet and passes the barriers before heading towards the right platform. It’s the furthest one and there’s no one else walking on the long passage.
At least he never detected anyone before he turns around the corner and is met by familiar ripped denim jeans hugging a man’s hips beautifully. He feels the world speeding up because Kame is walking, walking away from him without even noticing, absorbed in his own on-going world.
“Kame,” he croaks helplessly, heart pounding painfully. “Kame, wait!”
Kame turns his head around, sees him and stops in his tracks. His pink tongue nervously wets his lower lip as he properly turns around and removes his earplugs. He neatly rolls the wire as Yamapi heads closer, pulled in by the younger man’s presence again.
“Hello,” Kame greets him. He sounds a bit hesitant too but he’s still warm and inviting - he just seems to value personal space more than before. Yamapi doesn’t answer as he stops before the man, feeling breathless. Kame awkwardly slips his music player in the bag he’s carrying.
His heart beats faster and breath mists in the tunnel. Kame’s looking at him too. He looks a bit chilly but his jacket seems thick enough to protect him from the cold. It’s good. Very good.
He knows it’s now or never as he looks into Kame’s eyes. He looks like he knows it too, probably because he never answered the greeting. He isn’t backing away, though - Kame prefers to keep things clear with no misunderstandings left hanging.
Yamapi draws a breath to gather the much needed courage for his final leap of faith. “I think I’m in love with you,” he confesses. Jin isn’t here; it’s just the two of them now. The dim light paints the high features of Kame’s face fluorescent white. He looks apathetic while Yamapi clings to hope, his last desperate attempt to hold on to what they had created.
He searches for confirmation in Kame’s eyes. The man doesn’t look away, nor does he budge. He stands still, trying to dress up his answer into words he can speak. It’s going to be his last choice, there won’t be another offer. This is it.
“I’m in love with you, Kame,” Yamapi repeats, his tone certain and pushy. Kame draws in a deep breath and crosses his arms. He shifts his weight and Yamapi thinks he knows Kame’s answer, has known it all along. The man’s brow is furrowed, but he doesn’t look like he even needs time to consider.
His attempts have probably been close to futile all along.
“I’m sorry.” He truly sounds sorry, like he has done something he regrets. He’s led Yamapi on, he’s thought that maybe they could make it work despite everything. He’s pulled his head down from the clouds, though, unlike him. He’s standing steadily on the ground, and there isn’t even a hint of hesitation as he voices out his choice. “I like you. It’s just… I can’t love you like that,” he admits and bows his head a little in apology. “I could never love you like that.”
He doesn’t cry, and he’s pretty goddamn proud about that. He manages to hold on to his masculinity as he grimaces and fights hard to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t fail that badly at it either - he’s breathing maybe a bit too heavily, but he’s calm. He’s taking it well. He faces his one-sided love like it was just any love, like there are many others out there just waiting for him. There are too, he knows. He just isn’t sure if they’ll be anything like this.
“Are you alright?” Kame still checks with him. He’s concerned and he’s sorry, because he’s played his part in this mess, the most vital part too, perhaps. Yamapi mutters something affirming. He’s not so bad, not really. He’s had weeks to think about this after all.
“I just wanted to say it,” he finally notes, trying to bring a hint of humour to his tone. “There’s nothing to lose anymore by saying it, is there? Now I can maybe move on, since I finally have an answer from you.”
Kamenashi nods. He looks stiff and worried but Yamapi grins at him a bit and ruffles his hair because who knows if he can ever do that again with the history they share. Yamapi thinks Jin will always have that tiny speck of uncertainty about their relationship.
He’s got his friend back, though, so it’s all good. There’s no more pain, no more secrets. And this feeling, too, will someday just be a memory.
“I’ll go now,” he announces, voice steady, even if it lacks the light tone he’d like it to have. “We’ll be seeing each other. And… I’m glad you’re happier now,” he admits with a small and sad smile. “He’s not what he used to be.”
“Thank you for that,” Kame nods, smiling back to him. His smile isn’t wide either, it’s probably difficult to stay happy whilst seeing him in this condition. It’s not good manners to babble happily about a successful relationship after turning down someone.
There’s a tiny sparkle in his eyes, though, and he really does look happy. He’s getting everything he ever wanted after eight long and painful years. Yamapi can’t hate him for that.
He waves his hand and turns around to walk away. His steps echo. Kame’s don’t, he’s still standing. He probably will be until he’s gone. Everything feels slow and significant as if time wouldn’t flow properly.
This is it. The final scene in their unsuccessful love story. His head is spinning and he feels lightheaded as he follows the empty corridor lit by long fluorescent lights. This place isn’t meant for love. His life is turning, flipping upside down so that he hardly feels the ground under his feet.
He doesn’t look back though. Someday he’ll be over this. He knows it.
There’s no way this feeling can last forever.
The endless phone calls and voice mails from Jin to both of them are maybe the hardest. Kame does his best to act nonchalant but his act is failing and there are days when he doesn’t turn his mobile on at all just because he needs a break. Yamapi turns his own one on vibrate and stops listening to the voicemails after a few particularly nasty drunken threats and verbal abuse.
What the fuck have you done, Pi, reads a text from Ryo. He isn’t mad, though, not mostly. He stops by one evening when Kame’s out with his friends to have a few bottles of beer and talk things out, hear his version of the story. It’s better than Jin’s outraged version flooded with curse words and odd English slang. He isn’t doing very well, apparently. Then again, he’d dug his own grave. He’s only got himself to blame, even Ryo agrees.
He doesn’t expect to find Jin inside his home one day when he comes back from work, though. He hasn’t expected the man to grow the balls to actually come within a mile from his doorstep, but sometimes he might really underestimate his ex-friend, he assumes as the sound of his voice floods his ears as soon as he opens the front door. It’s so loud no one notices his presence. He feels sick to his gut.
“I need you, Kazu,” Jin’s voice begs. His tone is sweet and husky but it lacks the sexual edge. He’s not here for a booty call, not judging by his tone. He’s got something much more important on the line. “Baby, please. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t call me baby,” Kame snorts coldly. His voice is shaky and threatens to break, just like his shattered emotions under the strong façade he keeps putting up. Yamapi starts walking slowly towards the muffled voices. His blood is starting to boil hotly in his veins. Jin must seriously have guts to walk in here and beg Kame to come back after all he’s done.
“Can we talk about it?” Jin’s voice asks desperately. It’s an octave or so higher than usually - he’s feeling really edgy. “I’ll tell you the truth. I’ll admit to it, I’ll seriously spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just please come back. I’ll never do it again. This time I’ll really stop, I swear. This time it won’t happen again!”
“Just save it.” There’s a rustle, a sound of a struggle and Yamapi feels the fury kicking in as he follows the sounds, passes through the kitchen and on to the bedroom where Kame has shoved Jin to the ground where he sits breathlessly, eyes wide and teary.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls dangerously from the doorframe, eyes glued to Jin’s form. Jin stumbles up on his feet, hardening up. He’s lost, mad and hurt beyond belief as he starts walking closer to him, the corners of his lips tugging upwards bitterly. Yamapi tries to swallow the lump in his throat.
They obviously aren’t friends anymore. Those feelings are nearly gone as they face each other, both pairs of eyes cold and cruel. This is his home, though, and this is his relationship now too. It’s Jin’s own fault for fucking everything up. He could’ve had what he wanted had he not thrown it away so easily. He isn’t about to do the same mistake. He’s more sensible than Jin.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” Jin spits at him and Yamapi barely has the time to take a step back to the kitchen area to dodge Jin’s furious fist about to collide with his cheekbone. His heart hammers in his chest as he raises his hands to protect himself from the blows, just in case Jin’s still up for that.
“I could ask the same from you,” Yamapi barks, feeling his protective instincts kicking in. Kame’s getting himself back together, and he doesn’t seem particularly impressed by them acting all macho against each other. There’s no helping it, though. Not with the painful feelings and betrayals hanging in the air between them.
Jin’s eyes flash spite as he takes another step forward, ready to smash him into a pulp. Yamapi dodges the blow coming his way and grabs Jin’s fist, embracing himself for what will probably prove to be the worst fight they’ve ever had.
“HE WAS MY BOYFRIEND!” Jin roars at him and yanks his fist away. Yamapi takes the next punch with his arm, clenching his muscles to take the worst edge of it off. He can still swear there’s a bruise forming as he draws his own fist back furiously. He doesn’t have the time to deliver his attack before Jin’s fist sinks in his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs.
Yamapi coughs and feels his knees give in. He curls up helplessly as Jin kicks his back with all his might, unable to withhold his hurt feelings. “HE WAS MY MOTHERFUCKING BOYFRIEND, YOU SHIT HOLE! I TRUSTED YOU! YOU HAD NO RIGHT! You had no fucking right...!”
“Get off him,” Kame’s determined voice cuts in and Jin’s next attempt to punch him fails. From the corner of his eye Yamapi sees a foot with painted fingernails kicking the man’s arm out of aim. There’s a struggle, swearwords and when Yamapi has backed away enough to get back on his feet to lick his wounds, he turns to see Kame holding a sobbing Jin forcibly in his arms.
He doesn’t remember the last time he saw his friend cry, and he doubts it’s ever been quite like this. It’s raw, ugly and scary as Jin buries his face in Kame’s shoulder, fists clenched but arms trapped in Kame’s. “You cheated on me,” he cries with a quiet and broken voice that sends tremors running up Yamapi’s spine. All he can do is stare and internalize the weight of the pair’s feelings, what he’s really ended up messing with.
Kame hushes Jin swiftly and runs his shaky fingers through his hair, keeping his head safely on his shoulder to face away from Yamapi, in case it sparks up his aggression again. He looks at Yamapi’s eyes, looking shaken but in control of his feelings. It’d be more calming if he didn’t hold Jin so close to him.
“Jin, I think you should leave,” he speaks softly, his voice strained but calm. “Just go. You’re scaring me.” The sound of reason. It’s good that someone here has it, even under all the pressure. Yamapi can’t really access his.
Jin flinches in Kame’s arms and looks up at him. He’s gasping for air, face painted with red splotches. Kame snorts a little and lets go of him experimentally, wondering warily if it’s a safe move. “Don’t be a baby,” he scoffs, close to looking bitter and pissed again. “Just suck it up and go. You’re the last person who has the right to come here and complain about that.”
“You don’t love me anymore,” Jin hiccups, his voice shaky with the fear he’s mothering. “You’re not in love with me anymore.” Yamapi hears the forthcoming sobs that rack his body. His own vision goes blurry and he gasps for air.
“Go home,” Kame answers determinately. His lips are tightly pressed together as he turns Jin around gently with his hands and starts guiding him towards the foyer. “Get downstairs and call a taxi, don’t drive in this condition. Or use the underground. Just be careful when you cross the roads.”
Tears fall from Jin’s eyes, slide down his face and drop from his chin. “I’ll fucking kill him,” he whispers hollowly, eyes empty as he turns around in the foyer to look back inside the house to see Yamapi standing still at the end of the narrow corridor. Kame sighs and turns Jin’s head to him with his hands, catching his attention again.
“No, you won’t,” he tells him softly. “We both know you won’t.” Jin’s lip quivers. He looks broken beyond repair as Kame opens the door for him and helps him out. Jin’s eyes are wide as he witnesses the possible closing scene of the love of his life.
“Please,” he still whispers, not believing in the power of his words anymore even himself. Yamapi sees Kame shake his head, his hair waving slightly with the motion. He draws in a shaky breath himself, tears making their way down his face.
“Good bye, Jin,” Kame whispers softly before he pulls the door closed in front of the crying man’s face. He turns around to see Yamapi biting his knuckles, trying to contain the sudden punch of guilt. “Yamapi,” he sighs and walks over to pull Yamapi close too. Yamapi lets his eyelids slide closed as Kame rocks him comfortingly. He can’t help thinking that the comforting should go the other way around.
“A-are you alright?” he forces himself to ask Kame as he holds on to him, trying to force himself to calm down by getting his breathing back under control and biting back his tears. Kame nods in his arms and withdraws a little to press a kiss on his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“He just caught me off guard,” Kame murmurs. Yamapi gulps, examining Kame’s facial expression for hints of a breakdown. Kame bumps their noses together and closes his eyes. His breath warmly tingles on his skin.
Kame doesn’t look happy, though. He’s almost void of emotion as he strokes Yamapi’s hair. The touch feels unnatural and forced. Yamapi wonders when it turned into that, when this thing between them turned into this endless apathy.
“Do you still love him?” he splutters, unable to hold back his own fear. His question is unfair, he knows - of course Kame does, a feeling so great and overwhelming won’t die just like that, not in a few silly days. It’s barely been a week. His wounds are still fresh. There’s no way Kame doesn’t.
“Yamapi,” the man sighs heavily. There are dark circles drawn around his eyes, visual proofs of his constant inner struggle. “It’s not that simple.” It probably isn’t and he should respect that, respect Kame’s feelings. It’d just be easier if he didn’t have to come home to see Jin lashing out and begging him to come back. He doesn’t want to face the weak foundations of their relationship when he himself is so hopelessly devoted.
“Why not?” he finally snarls anxiously, squeezing Kame’s shoulders. Kame’s eyes avert and he purses his lips, not particularly eager to let Yamapi under his skin like that. It’s unfair. They’re in a relationship now, they should talk about this. “Can you move on? Are you trying?”
“I’m trying,” Kame snaps at him and pushes his hands away. He’s stressed and flipping and for a good reason too - he’s got too much going on in his head already without both Jin and Yamapi cornering him, demanding his love and understanding. “I just need to figure myself out first, alright?” he continues, shrugging as he takes a few steps back, rubbing his hands together. “People usually get a break after the end of a relationship to get themselves back together before they jump into another one. This already existed before the previous one ended. I didn’t get that opportunity, so just try to understand, alright? I’m doing my best.”
“Are you saying you want a break?” Yamapi presses, grinding his teeth together. “We can do that. If you need it,” he croaks, rubbing his temples, trying to keep calm. This is about Kame, not him. Kame’s right, he needs some time and understanding right now. He can’t just switch all of sudden. “I don’t want it but if that’s what you need then we can -”
“I don’t,” Kame groans. “That’s not what I meant. I’m in this relationship now, Yamapi, don’t doubt that. It’s just that… We started out as different people,” he sighs and sits down on the kitchen chair, burying his face in his hands. He looks shameful and burdened. “I was different. Jin… he was a part of me, you know? He belonged to my identity, the feelings I had for him, who I was with him. It was the true me, or something like that,” he gasps, removing his hands and looking at him darkly. “My identity’s just sort of fucked up now, you know. I don’t know myself. I don’t understand myself. I need to rebuild nearly everything.”
It’s painful to hear him say it. It feels weird that Kame’s going through something as radical and bizarre as what he’s describing. He thinks he’s going out of his mind too as he walks his way over to Kame and crushes him into a desperate hug. If only their worries were to dissolve so easily.
“You’re still the same person,” he tells Kame surely and pecks the corner of his eye to assure him. Kame’s breathing is heavy and anxious and his eyelids slide shut as he relaxes in Yamapi’s hold. “You’re still you. You’ve still got the best of you left. You’ll get the hang of it all soon. Just wait,” he croaks and hears Kame drawing in a shaky breath. “He can’t take all of that away from you.”
“I feel like I’m changing,” Kame mumbles, his lips quivering against Yamapi’s earlobe. “It’s like a whole new start without him, a whole new world. It’s quite frightening. Sometimes it just feels wrong.”
“It isn’t wrong,” Yamapi assures him and pulls him into a hasty kiss. It’s only then that he realises he’s breathless and close to tears too. “This world, it isn’t wrong at all. You’re just scared of it. You’re scared of all the possibilities. You’re scared this might be where you actually belong.”
Kame clings to him, gasping for air to keep himself from breaking into tears. His fingers are clenching Yamapi’s hair and tugging on it painfully as Yamapi embraces him. It’s a scary moment, like they’re forced to stay still in a situation like this forever.
“I might not belong in here,” Kame finally notes, his voice shaky and uncertain. “This might not be my place after all. You can’t know that.”
It’s then that Yamapi frighteningly realises that maybe he’s caged in this relationship just like Kame used to be in his previous one.
--
Eventually, things get better. Life goes on and Yamapi gets back in contact with the friends he’s got in common with Jin. Some voice out their disapproval for both of their ruthless actions but refuse to take side in the matter. A few he falls out of touch with, though. He guesses it’s the prize he has to pay for his actions.
The relationship he shares with Kame sometimes feels like dancing on thin ice, though. He does his best to nurture it back to health, give Kame the support he needs and remind himself this isn’t how it’s always going to be. Sometimes it works. Sleep already comes easier now for both of them when they’re wrapped in each other’s arms, and their sex life occasionally sparks up again. It’s much less often than what it used to be, but the desire isn’t entirely dead which feels promising. Things could be worse. It’s all slowly getting back on track.
The best thing they’ve achieved by breaking free of Jin’s shackles is peacefully spending time together outdoors. They hit the movies once but manage to miss most of the plot while having a somewhat serious popcorn fight and making out in the back row, hidden by the darkness. Afterwards they decide to just keep to touring things that keep them more active and taking silly pictures in purikura booths.
It’s been a month since Jin’s final disappearance when they make plans with Ryo to meet up in the familiar little bar to enjoy amateur music and catch up. Kame invites one of his best friends too, someone named Koki, but he has to cancel after partying too hard the previous night.
“Can’t stand the smell of alcohol right now,” Kame sighs apologetically as he informs Yamapi about it. Yamapi knows the feeling and doesn’t press it. There will always be a second time.
They take a free table quite close to the stage with their drinks in their hands to wait for Ryo. Yamapi sends him a teasing text with a few silly emoticons and smirks at Kame who clangs their glasses together and chuckles a “Cheers!” under his breath. They discuss Kame’s plans on getting an evening job to increase his income so that he can properly take part in paying for his part of the rent. Yamapi isn’t very fond of the idea but he can understand Kame’s point. He’d hate to live off his boyfriend’s money too.
“I’ve turned in a few applications to a few bars,” Kame tells him, stirring his daiquiri with his straw. “It’s not exactly a dream job, I know, but most restaurants don’t stay open very late. My working history isn’t particularly flattering either,” he shrugs, looking quite bothered about it. “I’ll see if any of them even want me. If not, I’ll find something else. Or at least I hope so.”
“Hmm,” Yamapi nods and claps his hands to the aspiring young man who’s just finished up his quirky little love song with his acoustic guitar and a microphone on stage. The man, probably barely legal too, bows deeply with a radiant smile and jumps off the stage, paying no heed for the small stairs at the end of it. Kame chuckles amusedly and takes a sip from his drink, eyeing the door for Ryo who still hasn’t turned up.
Yamapi turns his head to see the next performer get on the stage. He feels the blood in his veins freezing as he recognizes the familiar messy black curls and a neat black suit over an eye-catching yellow dress shirt. He remembers vibrantly laughing at the colour, remembers pursed lips and shrieks of defence his friend used to have for it.
Kame falls silent apart from the slight heaviness in his breathing. He looks pained with his brow slightly furrowed and eyes simultaneously widened and narrowed, gaze averting just a bit. His knuckles have turned white with the iron grip he has on his glass and Yamapi wants to just stand up and whisper at him that it’s alright and they can just leave now, because who really cares about Ryo. That everything is alright.
Instead, he turns his head and takes in the sight of his former best friend on the piano seat, cracking his fingers nervously like he always does out of habit before he begins to play. He stretches his fingers wide and lays them gently on the keyboard, feeling the form of the keys beneath his fingertips. Jin’s head is slightly bowed and his dark fringe is covering his eyes. His mouth is pressed into a tight line and he looks like there are some kind of iron shackles wrapped around his chest, constricting his breathing.
Yamapi can’t help but wonder what awful things love really does to people. He turns his gaze to Kame again - the man’s legs are starting to fidget nervously as his eyes scan Jin up and down. Yamapi tries to reach for his hand squeezing the drink and Kame’s eyes snap back from the stage and he flinches. There’s a wild look in his eyes and he lets go of the glass with only a small brush of Yamapi’s hand.
His gaze feels accusing, like he’s done something wrong, which he is very sure he hasn’t. It melts away soon though and turns into panicky confusion as his eyes snap back at the stage where Jin has moved, pressed the first keys of the piano keyboard. A low tone echoes dangerously. Melancholy, depression, endless moroseness. It’s followed by a few higher notes, still melancholy and pained.
Yamapi can’t remember Jin playing like this in a long time. Hasn’t heard this particular piece ever, either. It is unfamiliar and threatening, making Yamapi feel like he’s come into some sort of enlightening of the bad things in life and how everything from now on will go downhill faster than he can hold on.
There’s a silence, a quiet echo. Kame draws in a shaky breath. His hand falls on his lap as he glares at the stage. Yamapi can’t tell what he’s feeling - he isn’t sure if Kame knows either, other than that he’s in pain and it’s Jin’s presence’s fault, the fault of him and his stupid piano.
It feels like the silence never ends. Yamapi’s eyes snap at Jin again and he’s just about to get up and drag Kame with him before the song continues, before Jin starts playing with keys high and cold like frost and raindrops, disbelieving yet very well aware, alone, betrayed and abandoned. Guilt creeps over Yamapi with the melancholy melody, two fingers playing back and forth and switching while the horrible echo of something desperate rises from the background.
Kame’s eyes gloss over when the song processes into something stronger, bolder, with more mid keys adding to the desperation the song transmits. It slows down again and then Jin picks the speed back up - he’s talented, has always been, unlike any other pianist Yamapi has ever come across during his lifetime. Kame’s breathing echoes hoarsely as he moves his hand in front of his mouth.
Yamapi doesn’t like it. He dislikes Kame’s reaction, dislikes the sudden weakness the man shows. He’s always been strong and unyielding, masculine with little room for undeserved compassion and love he cannot put under control. Still, there he is - listening as the first tear falls, taking in the dance Jin’s fingers undergo on the keyboard and his feet build up on the pedals.
Falling silences, building up emotions, little swirls created by melody, a higher note here and a lower there. There’s a lump in Yamapi’s throat that he can’t swallow away as he watches his friend rocking on his cushioned seat, hair moving along with his body and fingers playing like they’re stiff and shaky yet very much alive and controlled.
Kame’s trying to swallow back his tears, not particularly eager to cry in public. Yamapi glances at him and feels his first tears falling as well - he thinks he knows already how this is going to end. He can feel it in the air, see it on Jin’s beaten posture and Kame’s glossy cheeks where the teardrops reflect the light from the lamps.
After a never-ending silence foreshadowing the end, Jin’s fingers still play a short sequence of high notes like a prickled heart unable to grasp the light again and there it comes - the ending note. His fingers still rest on the keyboard though and Yamapi notices that nearly everyone is listening and watching him, he’s gotten the attention of the full room with his heartfelt song.
There’s applause. Starts quietly from the stools on the counter and spreads across the room. No whistles, no yells, just applause. Jin raises his head and scans the room. His eyes stop at Kame and his lips press together tightly again to contain a massive wave of emotion.
“Thank you,” he finally mumbles, voice hoarse like he would’ve been smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey nonstop for the last two weeks, not to mention crying his heart out. It sends shivers down Yamapi’s spine. He’s never seen Jin like this, and they’ve known each other since childhood.
“This song…” Jin continues, his gaze lowering a little as he thinks of what to say - Jin never was as skilled with speech as he was with music. Usually he doesn’t speak when he plays, apart from the thankful acknowledgements of the applauses he receives. Usually people aren’t interested enough to listen. Even now many are already falling back to their conversations, but many are still watching him. And he’s talking.
Jin’s gaze drifts away to the wall on the right and he takes a deep breath. Then he dares to look back at Kame, searching for confirmation. Kame’s staring back like he’s about to get shot to death and it scares Yamapi. He’s gone white like a sheet.
“Some time ago I got separated from someone important,” Jin speaks again, trying not to take too much time and get booed out of stage after a wonderful performance. There’s a teary look in his eyes and his facial muscles are strained, but otherwise he keeps himself composed. “While thinking back to everything… I just felt like this had to be said,” he nods shyly, slightly afraid of the crowd. “It’s called I Do. Because… I still do,” he lets out a miserable, short laugh and licks his lips. “Thank you for listening,” he still adds before bowing. There’s another round of applause as he comes down from the stage, a quieter one but still one.
Kame stands up on his feet with a creek of his chair. Yamapi gulps and stares at him, shaking his head a little - no. Please.
“I’m sorry,” Kame apologizes with a hoarse croak. Jin’s standing beside the wall near the little stairs leading to the stage. He looks desperate too, desperate to believe but scared to because there’s no promise of the desired outcome. Yamapi wonders how he knew they would be there. How he got the courage to show up like that, not to bitch and moan but to actually play from his heart.
Maybe he should’ve done that right from the start then.
Kame’s walking already, pushing through the people, stairs and tables, eyes locked with Jin’s. Yamapi draws in a shaky breath as he watches his receding back. Jin doesn’t spare him a glance, too busy standing frozen and staring at Kame. Someone whistles from somewhere and there’s a lot of whispering and laughter, some booing and disgusted, demeaning yells speaking words of homophobia - others must’ve noticed too.
Some are looking at him too, whispering. He must look like a loser here with Kame just walking away like that. He wonders if he looks like Kame’s friend or a new date. Probably like a date with the wet lashes he has. He stands up too, ready to walk out.
Kame and Jin collide and embrace each other strongly, clinging to each other like they’re out of oxygen and they can only acquire it in each other’s arms. Their faces are hidden in each other’s hair and neck. They’re trembling together, finally brought together to end the pain. Yamapi tries to speed up his steps to get the fuck out because he doesn’t want to see this. How the fuck did Jin even time this? Did he know they’d be here? Did Ryo tell him? Was this whole meeting just a scam, a granted opportunity for Jin to set things right again, never mind him? The reality is quickly hitting him and his vision is blurring while he grows angry and broken, hands shaking and balance weakened by alcohol and loss.
So, this must be something alike to what Jin went through because of him. Now he sure as hell knows that it hurts. The difference is that Jin deserved it, treating Kame the way he did, cheating and lying and speaking lowly of him without a care. He didn’t. He actually would’ve deserved the love he nurtured. But no. Love doesn’t work like that, not when a heart has been given away already.
The piano plays in his head as he pushes through the doors to the streets and pushes his fists in his pockets as he half runs his way towards home, unable to even completely acknowledge the crowd around him apart from the choking feeling they only worsen.
It’s what he deserves for stealing his best friend’s boyfriend, he assumes bitterly as he finally starts shedding tears without even making it home in time.
--
Kame doesn’t contact him again. There are no phone calls, no text messages and no visits. It feels ridiculous to think how quickly everything can change. Just a few months back he was an ordinary man with an ordinary life - he hanged out with his friends and had a crush on the cashier of a café he frequently visited. Now, though, he doesn’t really have many friends willing to offer him sympathy and his short-time boyfriend has deserted him to go back to his cheating ex. Apathy starts colouring his life.
Yamapi holds on to the pole as the metro surges through the tunnel, insistent on throwing him off balance. He studies his own reflection in the window, how blank his face really is. He’s like one of those faceless business men, except that he’s not really one.
He wonders how long it’ll take until he starts feeling better again. What does it really take to feel alive, and is it even achievable anymore? He doesn’t feel particularly close with anyone. Even the children at work can’t get more than a fake smile out of him, even though he really tries. It’s just that he’s lost and confused with no direction as to where to head to.
The metro makes a stop and people get off and on. The quantity of humans makes him feel quite insignificant. He wonders if the faith of one individual can push off the whole system. It probably can, at least somewhat. Not in his case, though, because he isn’t some mindless terrorist.
He catches a messy bun of black hair pulled back from a man’s face. His chest feels tight as he observes the person, studies the familiar features until the man happens to turn his face and stare right at him, eyes wide from surprise.
Yamapi wishes it wouldn’t hurt so much. He wishes he could read the man, but he can’t. He doubts the man can even read himself. Probably not properly, judging by his expression. He turns his head away, because he doesn’t want to pick up a fight in here. It’s better that they try to keep their breathing calm and deny each other’s existence until one of them has to get off.
Jin fidgets anxiously from afar. Yamapi gulps, studying him from the reflection in the window. He misses him. Thinks about all the years they’ve spent together, all the secrets they’ve shared and childish tantrums they’ve thrown. Being apart still feels surreal.
Then Jin moves, heads over. He’s apologizing to the people he accidentally bumps against as the metro jolts and makes his balance wobbly. Yamapi draws in a deeper breath to stay calm. He wonders what Jin wants - is he about to pick up a fight, humiliate him or what? He wishes he knew so that he could prepare himself for it and shake off the hope of making up.
It’s him who should be apologizing, after all.
Jin’s hand grabs the pole right above his and Yamapi looks up, embracing himself for the worst. Jin’s gulping though. He looks hesitant and desperate, slightly stiff from straining himself to cross the distance between them but his aura isn’t intimidating. He doesn’t even look angry. It’s confusing.
“Hello.”
Yamapi’s heart skips a beat as he stares up at his friend. They bump against each other a little as the metro makes a turn. Lights of a station flash by and then there’s a halt, a stop. Not their station, though. They’ve still got time.
It feels like a whole new start between them. A simple ‘hello’, a friendly approach. Yamapi licks his lips nervously, a habit he’s picked up from somewhere but he can’t quite place it. He feels like he’s lost his voice, but he’s quick to force it back. He wants this.
“Hello,” he answers. Neither of them is turning their gaze away. Weeks ago this kind of encounter would’ve been different - they would’ve probably bumped fists and started chattering loudly, laughing about everything. Maybe they would’ve stopped at McDonalds for a meal too. Just so that they could hang out a bit longer.
More people get on the metro and it becomes more crowded. Yamapi tries to grin and Jin answers hesitantly. It’s not all natural, but it’s coming back. Jin doesn’t look like he’s carrying a vengeance.
Yamapi starts wondering if their friendship could still bear fruit. If there’s still hope for them.
“I’m hungry~” Jin breaks his train of thoughts. His voice is a bit shaky and wobbly but he’s trying to get his old tone back. It’s annoying but funny and Yamapi’s smile probably starts reaching his eyes a little too. Their hands on the pole brush against each other. “I think I’ll go and grab something to eat. Wanna join me?”
His stomach growls just at the right time. Jin chuckles a bit and he grins back. He thinks he’s finding his smile again. There must be hope for them. Jin isn’t that good of an actor. Yamapi would never be fooled by him.
“I want a Big Mac,” he accepts the offer. He hasn’t felt this happy in weeks. “And big fries.”
“And a McFlurry,” Jin continues, gaining confidence too. “With M&M’s.”
Yamapi doesn’t know what to talk about. There isn’t anything to say, there’s nothing to tell. He knows Jin’s been with Kame and he doesn’t really want to talk about that so he can’t even ask how his friend has been doing since they’ve been apart. Still, somehow the conversation goes on almost naturally as they get off a few stations later and wander towards the nearest McDonalds. No one mentions their last meeting - they talk about the weather, savings, clothes and old memories.
They’re inseparable, Yamapi knows. If anything proves it, it’s this. They snicker at the line which surprisingly isn’t very long even though the place is crowded with very few seats left. They sit somewhere in the middle of the room near a fake plant, because all the window tables have already been reserved by other customers. It’s a new topic too, bitching about it. Maybe it’s good.
After the hamburgers they’re starting to run out of topics, though, and it becomes quieter. Yamapi licks the sauce off his fingers silently, hoping Jin will come up with something. Hoping this will work, that their try won’t be futile and their friendship forever ruined.
“I got a contract, by the way,” Jin finally mumbles, stirring his ice cream with the plastic spoon. Yamapi raises his gaze, observes him. It’s what he’s always wanted but never gotten - singers and bands might think they have it hard, but it’s nothing compared to plain pianists. Jin’s gotten a few conditional offers in the past, requiring him to sing too but he’s turned them down. It’s not that he can’t sing, but he thinks he can’t put his songs into words without ruining them. ‘Piano has its own language’, he had morosely mumbled to Yamapi back then. ‘People should just listen and respect that.’
“Congratulations,” Yamapi mumbles, still dumbfounded about the revelation. “You signed it? Is it good?”
“Just piano,” Jin nods. “It’s… nothing great, you know, I won’t make a living out of it, at least not for now. But I’ll get one album at least and I need to perform at some events. They also want to put up a webpage,” he nods, lips pursed in thought. “So that people could make reservations for me. That’s not very artist-like so I’m a bit… But it’s good.” He smiles a bit. Yamapi wonders if he understands his luck either, if he’s fully internalized what’s going on.
Yamapi’s proud of him. He deserves it. They say cheers and raise their McFlurries before taking a spoonful. Yamapi’s stomach feels engorged - he’s not used to eating this much at once anymore. He hasn’t had much of an appetite lately.
“How did you get the contract?” he picks up the conversation again, taking another spoonful. Jin grimaces a little and Yamapi wonders if this goes to the area of things-they-should-not-discuss-right-now. They have to get over it sometime, though. He thinks he’s ready. “That night?”
“Not exactly,” Jin nods, stirring his McFlurry anxiously again. “There was a recording company representative there but he chose not to disturb. He kept asking the bartender about who I was though and if I came around often. They didn’t know my name or address though, so… Well, I was there again maybe a week ago and the guy spotted me and came over. Pure luck,” he shrugs.
If someone is blessed with miracles, it’s Jin, Yamapi knows. It’s not only that, though - he’s got the skill to deserve what he gets.
“Congratulations,” Yamapi repeats, and he honestly means it. He’d take his friend out for a drink, but he doubts he can stomach anything right now after their meal. Maybe some other time. Besides, Jin must’ve celebrated the contract already with others. He’s a bit late.
“I wanted to thank you,” Jin finally splutters, though, making Yamapi’s muscles tense. Jin isn’t good at keeping silent; he doesn’t follow etiquette very well. It hurts sometimes, but Jin doesn’t want to leave things unsaid. He hates regretting not saying them later. “For everything, you know. You were a fucking asshole and I hate you for that, but… I guess you had your point. And you made me realise things. So thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Yamapi snorts, his smile gone. His arms feel heavy and there’s a prickling feeling in them as the apathy tries to creep back. Kame’s back in his head, holding his face close and kissing him tenderly. He shouldn’t be thinking about it. “I don’t deserve any thanks.”
“If it hadn’t been for you,” Jin gulps anxiously, a lump in his throat making his voice hoarse, “I never would’ve learned to fully appreciate what I have. I wouldn’t have understood that… that it might all be gone one day, you know?” He laughs hollowly and his eyes are a bit wide and panicky. It hurts to see him like that. “He just… he was always there, you know, no matter what.”
“Hmm,” Yamapi agrees. He reflects back to Kame anxiously sitting on a chair by his dining table, attempting to explain himself. He thinks of him in the car, crying, screaming at Jin through the window, obviously in pain. He still can’t understand how Jin could do that. He wonders if he ever can, no matter how much he tries to explain himself.
“…Did you love him?” Jin asks more quietly, his tone hesitant. Always so straightforward and honest like a little child. Yamapi tilts his head a little in wonder, even though he knows the answer.
“Yes,” he finally answers and takes another spoonful of his ice cream to hide the bitterness. Jin looks sorry and pitying, the friend he’s had by his side many times when he’s been rejected or broke up with someone. It’s different now, though. It wasn’t just anyone. It was Jin’s boyfriend, which makes everything so wrong. “I did.”
“…I love him too,” Jin finally answers quietly, looking at him deep in the eyes. “I’ve loved him since I was young.”
“We’re not that old yet,” Yamapi snorts and waves his hand to lighten Jin’s confession. “Don’t be silly.”
“I love him,” Jin croaks, attempts to explain why he should be with Kame and Yamapi shouldn’t. Yamapi needs to understand this, to do it for him. Jin was first and he’s useless without Kame, helpless. He’s asking for Yamapi to let him have the love they both share. It’s a lot to ask, especially after everything he’s done. Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so desperate. “It needs to be him. It just does. So… I’m not… You know, I’ll be open with the whole thing now?” he tries to explain, breathing speeding up. “I won’t cheat. I’ll treat him well. I’ll make up for everything, even if it takes the rest of my life. I’ll make it up for him. I’ll make it worth all the pain.”
“I know you will,” Yamapi agrees. He detects the wild look in Jin’s eyes - he’s still unsure, so unsure if he ever can do what he so desperately wants. If his speech isn’t an impossible task.
“So thank you,” Jin still gulps, putting his unfinished ice cream away. Yamapi does the same and they just look each other, both thinking hard if this can work out or not. If they have the strength to face each other’s lives and place their trust on each other again.
After a long consideration, Yamapi thinks he can. He thinks he really can. He smiles a bit and Jin nods. They understand each other. It’s what years spent together do. They get up on their feet and Jin walks right next to him, their shoulder lightly brushing as they head outside where it’s already getting dark. The dusk is nearly gone.
“You’re my best friend,” Jin notes, looking somewhere far in the distance, past all the lights, cars and people. Yamapi bites his lip. It’s all coming back to him again. His friends really are right - he thinks too much.
“Likewise,” he answers. They bump fists without smiling, without even looking at each other.
The world stands still. His future feels a little less hopeless now. He can finally breathe again.
--
His world is settling back on its tracks. It’s not perfect, far from it, but he can finally feel the ground under his feet. It’s all coming back in small but sure doses, which is more than he could’ve ever asked for. His life won’t end, even after everything that happened.
The world still feels incomplete though, things left hanging unfinished. He walks past display windows of already closed clothing stores and lets the ruckus of the Tokyo nightlife flood his senses. Lights, colours, sounds of traffic, people… the smell of food.
He jogs down the rocky stairs towards the underground, ready to go home and sleep off another long day. He takes a ticket from his wallet and passes the barriers before heading towards the right platform. It’s the furthest one and there’s no one else walking on the long passage.
At least he never detected anyone before he turns around the corner and is met by familiar ripped denim jeans hugging a man’s hips beautifully. He feels the world speeding up because Kame is walking, walking away from him without even noticing, absorbed in his own on-going world.
“Kame,” he croaks helplessly, heart pounding painfully. “Kame, wait!”
Kame turns his head around, sees him and stops in his tracks. His pink tongue nervously wets his lower lip as he properly turns around and removes his earplugs. He neatly rolls the wire as Yamapi heads closer, pulled in by the younger man’s presence again.
“Hello,” Kame greets him. He sounds a bit hesitant too but he’s still warm and inviting - he just seems to value personal space more than before. Yamapi doesn’t answer as he stops before the man, feeling breathless. Kame awkwardly slips his music player in the bag he’s carrying.
His heart beats faster and breath mists in the tunnel. Kame’s looking at him too. He looks a bit chilly but his jacket seems thick enough to protect him from the cold. It’s good. Very good.
He knows it’s now or never as he looks into Kame’s eyes. He looks like he knows it too, probably because he never answered the greeting. He isn’t backing away, though - Kame prefers to keep things clear with no misunderstandings left hanging.
Yamapi draws a breath to gather the much needed courage for his final leap of faith. “I think I’m in love with you,” he confesses. Jin isn’t here; it’s just the two of them now. The dim light paints the high features of Kame’s face fluorescent white. He looks apathetic while Yamapi clings to hope, his last desperate attempt to hold on to what they had created.
He searches for confirmation in Kame’s eyes. The man doesn’t look away, nor does he budge. He stands still, trying to dress up his answer into words he can speak. It’s going to be his last choice, there won’t be another offer. This is it.
“I’m in love with you, Kame,” Yamapi repeats, his tone certain and pushy. Kame draws in a deep breath and crosses his arms. He shifts his weight and Yamapi thinks he knows Kame’s answer, has known it all along. The man’s brow is furrowed, but he doesn’t look like he even needs time to consider.
His attempts have probably been close to futile all along.
“I’m sorry.” He truly sounds sorry, like he has done something he regrets. He’s led Yamapi on, he’s thought that maybe they could make it work despite everything. He’s pulled his head down from the clouds, though, unlike him. He’s standing steadily on the ground, and there isn’t even a hint of hesitation as he voices out his choice. “I like you. It’s just… I can’t love you like that,” he admits and bows his head a little in apology. “I could never love you like that.”
He doesn’t cry, and he’s pretty goddamn proud about that. He manages to hold on to his masculinity as he grimaces and fights hard to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t fail that badly at it either - he’s breathing maybe a bit too heavily, but he’s calm. He’s taking it well. He faces his one-sided love like it was just any love, like there are many others out there just waiting for him. There are too, he knows. He just isn’t sure if they’ll be anything like this.
“Are you alright?” Kame still checks with him. He’s concerned and he’s sorry, because he’s played his part in this mess, the most vital part too, perhaps. Yamapi mutters something affirming. He’s not so bad, not really. He’s had weeks to think about this after all.
“I just wanted to say it,” he finally notes, trying to bring a hint of humour to his tone. “There’s nothing to lose anymore by saying it, is there? Now I can maybe move on, since I finally have an answer from you.”
Kamenashi nods. He looks stiff and worried but Yamapi grins at him a bit and ruffles his hair because who knows if he can ever do that again with the history they share. Yamapi thinks Jin will always have that tiny speck of uncertainty about their relationship.
He’s got his friend back, though, so it’s all good. There’s no more pain, no more secrets. And this feeling, too, will someday just be a memory.
“I’ll go now,” he announces, voice steady, even if it lacks the light tone he’d like it to have. “We’ll be seeing each other. And… I’m glad you’re happier now,” he admits with a small and sad smile. “He’s not what he used to be.”
“Thank you for that,” Kame nods, smiling back to him. His smile isn’t wide either, it’s probably difficult to stay happy whilst seeing him in this condition. It’s not good manners to babble happily about a successful relationship after turning down someone.
There’s a tiny sparkle in his eyes, though, and he really does look happy. He’s getting everything he ever wanted after eight long and painful years. Yamapi can’t hate him for that.
He waves his hand and turns around to walk away. His steps echo. Kame’s don’t, he’s still standing. He probably will be until he’s gone. Everything feels slow and significant as if time wouldn’t flow properly.
This is it. The final scene in their unsuccessful love story. His head is spinning and he feels lightheaded as he follows the empty corridor lit by long fluorescent lights. This place isn’t meant for love. His life is turning, flipping upside down so that he hardly feels the ground under his feet.
He doesn’t look back though. Someday he’ll be over this. He knows it.
There’s no way this feeling can last forever.