[Fanfiction - The GazettE] Chasing Dreams Uruha/Kai Oneshot
Title: Chasing Dreams |Oneshot|
Author: sorrowofanangel
Genre: Romance, slice of life, comedy-ish, 1st person.
Pairing/ Band: The GazettE Uruha x Kai, Kai x Uruha
WARNINGS: Boy x boy relationships, references to sexual practices/elements, strong language
DISCLAIMER: Yes, I own them . . . In fact Kai's in my kitchen right now (huhuhuuu~) No, I don't own them o.e
Rating: PG
Synopsis: "If you held your life in your hands. If you had one chance to make the right choice. Would you take it?"
Summary: Unhappily married taxi driver Kai spends his days battling with his pathetic excuse for a life. He watches another stranger enter, another stranger leave. One aspiring passenger, Kouyou, changes all that forever. Kouyou introduces Kai into a world entirely new to him; leaving behind his distained and uncomplete past to pursue a future for something new. Something adventurous. An opportunity to chase his dreams once and for all... in a make or break act to find love, success and the meaning of life he'd been trying so hard to find...
Notes: Hope you all enjoy (*^^*)b
My fanfic archive ~ (HERE)
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“Alright honey, I’ll get someone to take a look.”
I sigh and glance at my watch, wondering how long it’ll take to move through this traffic. The bad weather was already robbing me of my fares; stuck in a jam only increased my bad luck as well as my mood.
And then there was my wife nagging in my ear,
“Well, Kai, I want the job done before Kazumi and Okada come for dinner on Saturday night.” she moans through the receiver. If it wasn’t for hands-free technology these days perhaps I would have done the honourable thing and crashed my car into a ditch, “Imagine what the neighbours would say if the house was flooded! Not to mention our real estate options!”
Oh, here we go. This is the point where I’m supposed to bow down to her needs and hire some shitty ¥800 plumber just to tweak a pipe for twenty minutes until our toilet stops leaking.
Perhaps I would have had the energy to refuse; if my patience wasn’t already worn thin by this gridlock, not to mention how much I hated stormy weather. It fucked up my satellite,
“Sweetie, I told you I’ll take care of it.” I reassure with a sigh, a spark of hope as the car in front of me inches forward, only to stop just before it can change up a gear,
“Well I hope so Kai.” I feel like a pupil, admitting to stealing another kid’s lunch money - only to face the headmaster afterwards with such burning eyes of hatred, “Because that mortgage isn’t going to pay itself you know and we need to keep the house in good condition. Oh and heaven’s knows what the girls would say at book club!” she’s fussing over the matter as though the Queen’s going to visit, overreacting to everything as usual, sucked into the bonds of keeping appearances in a modern society.
It often makes me wonder why she even married such a common Tokyo-er like me. I don’t even look good in a suit and I have no idea how to speak among highly successful business peoples such as the ones my wife works with.
Perhaps she truly did love me... which is strange since she doesn’t refer to my job position as a “taxi driver” but instead prefers to call it something of her own,
“Oh, my husband? Oh he’s a... a chauffeur aren’t you sweetie?”
How many times I’d heard that line - cocktail party after cocktail party and trapped by forced polite smiles and expensive Armani suits and silk ties, the only genuine thing I can do is nod,
“I’m sure that they’ll understand we have a ‘temporary problem in the bathroom.’” I choose my words carefully. I’d most likely get scolded for saying, “Our toilet’s sprung a leak and shit’s leaking everywhere.”
I squinted my eyes to look through the rain, the radio I’d had on low volume starting to die as the thunder clapped closer and something bright flashed behind me.
No TV tonight then. Maybe if I can get my dear sweetheart into a happier mood about the plumbing, I could be in for a blow job,
“Come on baby, it’ll be fine...” I hum in my most seductive tone, pushing my foot gently against the accelerator pedal as the car in front moves again, a further distance this time, “Listen, I still have to finish my shift but I promise as soon as I can I’ll phone someone straight away. I’ll tell them to be in tomorrow morning and no later, okay? Trust me honey, I’ll get it all sorted for you.”
“You better.” she mumbled, “I’ll make Teriyaki for dinner. That alright?”
I grunt lowly and she hangs up with a small goodbye.
Ah well, masturbate in the shower it is then.
My radio is spitting out static by now so I lean forward and switch it off, listening only to the rain bouncing off of my car.
Wednesday evening sat in a rundown black cab from 1996 wasn’t exactly my idea of a great night out. But hey, at least it pays. I may not be the highest provider of income like my wife is but, at least I’m doing my part. Now that, that is where my allegiance lies.
Thank God we don’t have any kids. Knowing my shitty luck they’d end up turning into high class snobs like my darling wife.
I startled briefly as I hear something bang heavily against the passenger window. A shadow lurks outside and I finger the button next to me to see him properly, the electrics even groaning as the glass slides down into the door,
“Hey, can you get me to Shinjuku station?” the man on the other side shouts over the noise; angry blaring horns of cars and the sound of rainfall slapping on concrete meant I had to strain to catch some of his words,
“Well, sure, but -“ I nod my head to the line of traffic ahead of me, “- You might have a bit of a wait.”
“That’s okay, I’m not in a rush.”
The back door is open before I can say anything else, and the tall figure falls in with a heavy sigh, shaking his sodden umbrella out the door before he closes it, leaving his belongings to drip onto my leather seats.
I don’t mind; if you’d seen the state of some of the passengers I’ve ferried in past trips, there really was no point in wasting my time cleaning this thing. Most of them do it for me at 3am after a Friday night... with their vomit. It certainly is interesting to bet on how many miles per hour it can take me to reach before I can break them. Or rather, break their self control and swallowing ability.
While I pull the handbrake on, I sneak a look at this guy, and I either guess he’s a wasted low life with no future and grabbing whatever chance he can to make a living - like me - or he’s a complete rich snooty character who only jumped into my cab because he didn’t want his ¥30,000 shoes to get wet.
I realise that’s the kind of thing my wife would do.
Despite the umbrella, the guy’s black trousers are completely soaked - he’s wearing a suit, which swings me in the direction of the snobby kind until my eyes run over his wildly styled black hair and heavy make-up around the eyes.
I realise he’s even managed to fit a guitar case in the large back space as well (bearing in mind this taxi is built to seat around seven, me included) and sports black, thick framed glasses on his nose; steamed up thanks to the car heater I’d fired up to keep me warm.
The dark haired man runs his arm over his forehead with a large sigh and removes the large specs, taking a corner of his shirt to wipe them clean.
It gives me a chance to look into his eyes, and I notice with enlightening amusement that they are just as dark as the eyeliner he’s wearing,
“Hey, you’re not going to charge me for this right?” he asks worriedly, his eyes scanning around at the maze of headlights lighting up the city’s business district, and right now I realise we’re parallel to the Sony building,
“Don’t worry.” I flash him a small smile, “I’ll start the fare once we’re clear of this.”
“Ah, thanks. That’s very kind of you.”
I watch him closely as he cleans his glasses with such invigorating movements - if only my wife’s hands could move as well as his, perhaps I wouldn’t have the fleeting urge to test myself for erectile dysfunction.
What throws me even now though, is why on earth I haven’t hit a single strip club since our sex life started going downhill; or picked up prostitutes from isolated narrow alleyways in the rough parts of town; I’d waste an entire month of my wages on one fuck but God, after six months of this “dying marriage” shit, my cock is screaming for some relief.
I tear my eyes away as his hands move closer inside his crotch, knowing that would be a hard explanation to come up with if he caught me staring.
So I let him settle, glancing every now and then as he removed his jacket and bunched it up beside him. Next he opened his rucksack and rooted for something inside.
I don’t know what the hell was in there but... there was a lot of jingling.
He finally manages to get comfortable though, flicking overly excessive dyed strands of hair out of his eyes, his nose twitching as he pushes his glasses further up to look out the window; although since he’d sat down the scenery hadn’t changed much. The buildings had perhaps moved an inch to the side, nothing more,
“So, how are you?” The first chapter in "The Dummies Guide To Taxi Driving” states that upon entrance of a fare you must engage in conversation to keep your client comfortable and relaxed. Not only that but it guarantees me a tip!
To be honest it’s not really the best starter line in the history of conversation techniques. Past experiences have resulted in the answer, “Fine thanks.” and silence is descended upon us for the rest of the journey - I’d like to be interested in why they are going to their destination but I don’t have the heart to pretend I care,
“To be honest man, uh -“ The man’s lips purse in thought, and he drums his fingers against the seat, “- I’m absolutely shit.”
My eyebrows twitch upwards. I wasn’t expecting that.
“Sorry to hear that.” I mumble, inching the car forward again; the fat guy in the Toyota in front of me not wasting any time in taking up space; much like you would move up close to the person in front of you in a queue - this guy obviously doesn’t want to lose his spot,
“You’re not going to ask me why I’m feeling so shit?” my passenger asks, and again I feel my eyebrows rise in response. At the rate this guy’s going he might just win my “Most Exciting Passenger of the Year Award.”
I wonder if the KitKat sitting unopened in my glove compartment would suffice as a prize,
“Well, you could tell me if you like.” I shrug, “The problem with other taxi drivers is they pretend to care about your life in the limited time you spend with them. I prefer to stay truthful and keep my nose out of other people’s business.”
Wow. You can really tell marriage is having an effect on me.
The other just scoffs with a smile, draping his arms over the back of the seat, “Well, fair play to you.” he nods, seemingly impressed.
I feel a sense of satisfaction rise in my chest before I return my eyes to the road,
“Mind if I tell you about it anyway?” the young man asks after a minute, “The fact that you don’t care only makes me feel better about loading these pointless and, I’ll add, depressive problems onto you.”
I shrug, and for once in my cabbie career, I’m genuinely interested,
“Well load away.” I smirk, “We’ll be here for a while. Might as well kill time.”
“And the mood.” the other mumbles, leaning forward in his chair to begin.
So, he starts where anyone else would start - school. The sole establishment that makes itself the proud sponsor of many kids’ broken dreams, introduction to life’s miseries and host to every capital punishment under the sun. That includes the trademark ‘swirly’,
“At first I thought I was destined to become a poet, or write stories.” I see a sticker on his guitar case that displays proudly the words, “Kouyou Takashima.” and I guess that’s his name. Or a rather strange one for a guitar brand,
“Because I used to write little sections of words that would pop into my head during class.” he looks to the ceiling of the cab almost dreamily, “You know just random things about... about myself, my family, my friends, the weather -“
“- Did you have the words for a miserable day such as this?” I point out the window.
Kouyou only grinned back at the raindrops collecting on the windows, “Every kind.” he said smoothly, “Somehow I felt the world had to be discovered. That every single detail had to be captured and preserved for people to enjoy again and again. I felt, in the future, I could do something with that.” his hand drifts down to stroke the neck of his guitar case, “Eventually, music came into my life and I discovered that it could change the way you felt dramatically. Music can make you cry... make you sob for hours until you don’t remember why you cried in the first place. Or it can make you dance and smile and want to hug a stranger in the street for no apparent reason other than the fact you just feel like it.” Kouyou let out a soft sigh, and I feel a smile pull at my lips,
“I thought this was supposed to be depressive.”
“I’m setting the equilibrium.” Kouyou merely smirked, “It gets worse don’t worry.”
“Good. As long as I know.”
We smile at each other briefly and I find that we haven’t moved for the past few minutes, several cars in front and to the side of us switching off their engines. I figure it won’t hurt to do the same, turning the key and shuffling around in my chair to face Kouyou; we won’t be going anywhere for a while yet,
“My parents disapproved of course.” he continued, clasping his hands tight in front of him as he stared at his shoes, “My father wanted the years of my law training kept intact and even entered me in a professional law school to make sure I took the right path. I’d resented the fact of being a lawyer in all respects." He shrugged, “But the fact that my father was a lawyer and then my grandfather before him and then my great-grandfather before him, it was just -“
“- Hard to escape.” I guess, for some reason feeling something grow heavy in my chest. An image of my wife’s face flashes in my head,
“Yeah.” Kouyou nodded, “My mother on the other hand wanted me to go into medical. Be a doctor or a surgeon or something similar. That really worked out well since I faint at the sight of blood and I can’t stand it when people are sick. If someone’s thrown up anywhere near me I have to get out of there as soon as possible!”
I wouldn’t say that with regards to where you’re sitting right now I wanted to say, but I changed my mind, keeping my lips pressed together,
“So you can imagine the reaction they gave when I told them I wanted to be a musician.” Kouyou released a sudden groan and he pinched the bridge of his nose before leaning back, “How I’ll never forget that night.” he moaned to the ceiling.
So far this was the typical story I had anticipated. Like the kind you read on the agony aunt pages of major magazines. Disapproving parents and a failure at a dream career - the story I imagined almost half of the world would tell as of yet. Myself included,
“Anyway, we ended up having a huge fight.” Kouyou carries on, seemingly recovered from his moment of minor distress, “I packed my bags and caught the first train to Tokyo. I thought if I’d managed to record a couple of demo tapes and show them to producers I thought I’d be fine. Seems my naïve young mind got carried away.”
I notice him staring at his rucksack with hating eyes, hesitating fingers reaching inside to bring out a couple of black square casings, “These are the fucking demo tapes.” he waved them at me, “I spent months working on these songs, putting them together, creating lyrics, divulging inspiration into a few notes. It took so long that I had to resort to performing with my acoustic on the streets since I couldn’t keep up with the rent.” he shrugged helplessly, and I was actually glad the traffic had started to move again, thankful that I had to turn away to start the engine because the truth was, it was getting pretty depressing,
“My girlfriend got pissed because I was spending more time recording in my living room than with her. And even when I did spend time with her all she wanted was a small fingering job -“ I heard his voice cut off and an embarrassed silence suddenly filled the car; I could sense that without even looking,
“Sorry, that’s a little personal.” I heard him say quietly.
I merely shrug, I wasn’t exactly the type to dismiss stories of a sexual nature - I was in need of some fresh knowledge of the topic. It had become a distant memory to me. Did people still use condoms today?
“Believe me, kid.” I start, pushing my foot on the accelerator, rumbling the car along at 5mph, “Once you get married, you’ll find that an annual fingering is a blessing.”
Kouyou laughs at that, and even though it shouldn’t be something to joke about, I find myself giggling too,
“Well, we’d only been going out for three months.” he admits, “So I dread to think what twenty years of marriage will do to me. If I ever get married that is.”
I look in the wing mirror again as he falls silent, and his head droops considerably, almost to the point where his chin is brushing his chest,
“Are you sure you want to talk about this?” I ask carefully; I may have had some sad sacks sit like a sorry vegetable in the back of my car but not once have I ever seen anyone cry in it. Well, apart from that one guy I had a few months back but I suppose trapping his hand in the door was his own damn fault,
“My whole life has gone to shit.” Kouyou says this with a sudden tone of realisation and his head comes up with widened eyes behind those huge dark frames of his, “I’m struggling with money, I can’t get a proper job because I left school with very few qualifications and my parents won’t help me out until I return being their puppet.” he scoffs with a sigh, and runs a hand through his thick mass of black hair, “My girlfriend, or rather ex-girlfriend hates my guts. My apartment is a shithole, my landlord is a drug addict and I bought this suit off of eBay.” he tugs at the tie, pulling it loose and unbuttoning his shirt at the top, revealing a shiny pale skinned chest and silver chain with a cross dangling over his collarbone.
Kouyou pulled it back in place with his fingertips, setting the cross, with a red rose wrapped around it, in the centre of his chest again,
“So are you going to Shinjuku to get back home?” Holy fuck. I’m actually interested in someone’s life. Somebody pinch me.
Kouyou shakes his head miserably, his hand gripping the seat as I drive a little too fast over a speed bump, anticipation getting the better of me and I mumble a small apology,
“No, I’m not going back home.” he breathed later, “I’m catching the Chūō-Sōbu Line to Chiba. New city, new start right?” I nod in response before he continues, “I have a couple of friends who can help set me up there.”
“See?” I smile, managing to gain enough speed to change into 2nd gear - the traffic has picked up pace now. We’re moving along nicely, “Not all things are as bad as you make them out to be.”
“Even so.” my attempt at a cheery approach falls flat on its face, it seems, and for some reason, I have an urge to try and reassure Kouyou, the stranger behind me, that everything is going to work out alright,
“Even so my heart feels so pained.” Kouyou says softly, poetically, and though my attention is on the moving chaos gathering again up ahead, in the corner of my eye I see his own drift to look out the window, “I feel so useless, Kai.”
For a second my heart clutches and I have a “How does he know my name?!” moment. That’s until I remember I have a sticker on the glass fixed on the front seat, reading, “Hello. Your driver today is Kai.”
“You can change all that you know.” I signal left and start up the machine that charges the passenger ¥66 for each mile. It seems we’re clear of traffic for now, much to my relief, “Once you get to Chiba, why don’t you tour the city for inspiration? Write whatever comes to you instead of thinking of it as a job. Pressure is never a good thing you know.” I glance up at him in the wing mirror but his eyes remain elsewhere, thoughtful and contemplative and I see they have watered considerably since I last checked, “Kouyou, if you write and compose for the passion then there should be no reason for the music producers to turn you down.”
Kouyou nods absently, “Thankyou.”
I wish I could reach out and pat his shoulder. Ruffle his hair, anything, to make him smile again but somehow the stranger that just stepped into my taxi minutes ago has become something of a mirror. And I can see myself in it,
“Don’t make the same mistakes I did.” I admit, not sure why I’m even about to tell Kouyou this, exchanging our pasts for some unknown source of longing from the other, “I gave up on the things I love because people told me it could never be. I married and settled down because I thought that would make me happy when the fact is it’s made me more miserable than I was in the first place.” I smile sadly and I hear the leather creak as Kouyou shuffles on it, most likely interested in my words,
“What did you want to be?” he asks softly, almost in my ear and I notice he’s leant right up close behind me,
“The same as you.” I answer gently.
We sit in silence then for a while, Kouyou sliding back on the leather to resume his place by the window. At one point he winds it down to let the cool air blow against his face,
“Hey, Kai?” he asks minutes after, and I’m quite relieved since we’re almost at the station - only a couple of junctions away once we get past these red traffic lights,
“Yeah?”
“Come with me.”
I’m so taken aback that I stall the car,
“W-What?”
“You and me.” Kouyou says again, watching with steady eyes as I fumble about starting the engine again, panicking when the lights overhead have almost turned to green, “Come with me to Chiba. That way, maybe both of us can fulfill our dreams and become what we’ve both wanted for so long!”
My legs finally steady and I manage to make the taxi move as cars filter one by one through the junction,
“Ah you know, Kouyou, that’s really nice but I... I have commitments.” It’s the best I can come up with,
“Commitments to a marriage that you’re not even happy in?” Kouyou enquires, not bothered how I even knew his name, “Kai, do you even love her?”
I want to scream a positive reply at him, but the engine makes that audible for me when I can’t come up with that three lettered word that I want to answer with,
“You don’t do you?” Kouyou guesses by my silence and I inwardly curse as I struggle to find a place to park outside the station, all those fucking cars I was queuing up with earlier today catching up with me at last,
“Do you have any children?”
“No.” I snap,
“Then what’s stopping you?!” Kouyou demands, “Kai, come away with me.”
All of a sudden he sounds so ridiculous that I start to laugh into the steering wheel.
“Do you know how crazy this is?!” I chuckle, “Kouyou, we barely know each other!”
“I’d figure we’ve learned a lot about each other in the past five to ten minutes.” Kouyou challenges me, and although on some level I want to start a debate that knocks his proposal out of hand, I have no choice but to admit he’s probably right.
At last there is a small space just before the end of the street and I swing behind a red car, not bothering to park it properly, just wanting Kouyou to get out of the car before I do something I regret. No, I’m not going to hurt him or anything but if I accept his offer I’m as good as dead anyway,
“That’s ¥330 please.” I stutter, tugging on the handbrake as I wait for Kouyou to hand over the cash, however I notice he does no such thing. He doesn’t reach for his wallet. He just sits and stares at me coldly through dark make-up, streaked with the earlier rainfall,
“We can help each other.” he said slowly, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
I can’t. I’d love to but I can’t. I’m married, I have a job and I’m comfortable with my life! The house we live in isn’t too bad - a nice little townhouse in a quiet part of town. Our car isn’t bad either, a small white thing big enough to seat five. Why would I want to give up all of that?
I must have said it out loud because Kouyou gawps at me in disbelief,
“Because you’re unhappy!” he yells back, and I flinch,
“Why the hell do you care so much?!” I retort, “You barely know me. For all you know I could be a convicted rapist!”
“If you are then it’s only because you got your dreams ripped away from you and life landed you with a wife who is no good in bed and you sought sex from someone else!” Kouyou snaps back, to my utmost surprise, “Look, I don’t care what you are but I know what you want to be, Kai, don’t you get it?!”
I blink until my eyes sting,
“You... are... unhappy!!” Kouyou says slowly, beating his fist against the seat on that last word, “Fuck me, for once in my life it’s actually nice to see someone suffering as much as I am!”
My face falls unhappily, “Gee, thanks.”
“We can help each other.” he urges, and I’m starting to think he might have a history of mental health problems, “Kai, come on, a few minutes in a cab with you and I’ve realised I want to do this! Don’t you?”
“I...” I hesitate and force my eyes away. What the hell can I say? I’ve built a life here, to throw that away for some wild dream would be madness,
“I... I need some time to think.” I breathe at last, “I can’t just jump into the station with you - for a start I have no money and I haven’t packed any of my clothes you... dumb ass!”
I don’t think Kouyou’s even listening to me, too busy fumbling around in his rucksack to bother paying attention to anything else.
A minute’s more rustling and a card is thrust into my hand, number, email and fax plastered in small print along the bottom with Kouyou’s name in bold at the top,
“It’s my card.” he explains, “Look; there are all my contact details on there. If you’re with me, then catch the midnight train and meet me at Chiba station at 1am tomorrow morning. If not, well, mail me or something to let me know.”
I nod solemnly, wondering how a second path in life had become open to me on a Wednesday evening in a rundown black cab from 1996. I wondered why it hadn’t happened sooner,
“How much do I owe you again?” Uruha reaches behind him for his wallet - tossed aside during his mini-raid,
“Oh, umm.” I check the fare counter, “¥330.”
Kouyou counts the notes briefly before he thrusts a handful towards me, “Keep the change,” he tells me shortly, throwing open the door to face more drizzly rain and incoming spray from passing vehicles.
I expect him to run away and never face me again so it comes as a minor surprise when he runs straight to my window,
“Thankyou.” he pants, leaning down to look at me properly, his glasses steaming up again as condensation collected against the lenses, “For everything.”
I looked down at the card in my hand with pursed lips, “I’ll think about it, Kouyou. I promise.”
“I just hope you make the right decision.” Rain bounces off of him as he smiles down at me, and something warm fills my chest. So much so that I hand him back the cash held in my hand,
“Here.” I press the notes into his palm, “You probably need all the money you can get right now.”
Kouyou looks down at them with a small smile, “Thankyou.” he says softly,
“It’s okay.” I return a friendly set of teeth, putting the car into gear again, “Go on, you’ll be late for your train.”
He hesitates once, before bending down to level with the car window,
“Remember.” he smiles, “If you’re with me, catch the midnight train from here. Take the Chūō-Sōbu line to Chiba and I’ll be there waiting at 1am.”
I nod in understanding, but I don’t concern myself right now with whether or not I will be there,
“Goodbye.” I whisper, “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
And then he leans forward, catching my lips against his.
For a moment I let my eyes widen as I feel something weird throb inside my stomach, my heart pounding in my chest so much I was sure I was going to explode.
But then I kiss him back, not caring that I am kissing a guy when my wife is back home cooking my dinner. Not caring that I am kissing almost a complete stranger who has just asked me to run away with him. To leave this pretence life behind and try to make myself happy. Try to make myself complete.
So it was no surprise that I found myself packing a bag against the protests of an angry, sexually frustrated woman beside me, screaming abuse until I saw red tinge her cheeks and tears well and spill over.
When she asked why I was doing this so selfishly I felt pleased that I could answer,
“Because I want to be happy.”
And I was. I got a touch of it when I boarded that midnight train a while later. I sat in the carriage on my own with excitement creating butterflies in my stomach, three suitcases stacked above my head and ¥7 million stored in my wallet.
I had no idea what was to lie ahead but that was okay because I knew it was me who could make it happen.
As promised, Kouyou was waiting for me as soon as the train arrived, and I was enveloped into his arms as soon as I stepped from the platform.
And for the first time in my life... I’d never been happier.
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A/N: Something a little diffferent right? xD Hahaa~ well let me know what you think - I quite enjoyed writing this one - kind of eased my anxiety about my own future (which is a first) XD XD XD Please tell me what you think!! <3