[RP Log] Iori and Takeru
What: Iori and Takeru's "srs talk"
Why: They need some closure
When: Sunday, May 16th, 2010
Who: Iori and Takeru, mentions of others
Where: Odaiba bay
Iori stood off by himself, further down the shore line. What a day. It had been rather fun, he would admit, even if he hadn't wanted a party. It had been rather odd, too. Takeru had shown up with Michael; Iori had no idea what to make of that. Several times, it had seemed like the blond had tried to catch his attention, but Iori had pretended not to see, trying to keep people between them.
He was getting a little tired of people now, even if they were his friends. So he'd slipped off from the group for a few minutes, only stopping to whisper in Noriko's ear (to which a bunch of their friends had hooted at) that he was going off for a bit but he'd be back.
Michael and Tai were at it again, debating the blond's shocking new pink laptop. Takeru didn't so much mind it as it was getting slightly old, even after a single day. He drained the last of his juice from the plastic cup, glad to have a reason to get away. "I'm gonna get more juice, be good you two," he promised, not really waiting for a reply before getting away, not that both the older boys spared him more then a glance or nod, too engrossed into their conversation.
He remembered some people from the lower grades in high school, smiled pleasantly in acknowledgment as he passed them by, too. He nearly reached the drinks table before spotting Noriko... alone. Iori had clung to her so busily the whole time, it had seemed nearly too convenient for Takeru to ever find a moment to say more than something in the passing... and now-
He saw him, walking outside, just barely catching his retreating back. Placing the plastic cup down, the blond hurried through the crowd after him, intent to catch him this time. The sun was still up when he walked out, the slight breeze wafting up from the sea not as warm as it would become in full summer yet, but still pleasant. And just a little while ahead, Iori was idly walking down the path. "Iori?" he called after him, just loud enough to hear. He would not run away this time.
Iori turned around as his name was called, ready to call back. The voice registered as he caught sight of the blond hair, turning him speechless. His stomach clenched unpleasantly, reminding him of all the fun stress could cause. He momentarily wondered of asking Takeru to leave him alone for the sake of decreasing the risk of another ulcer. He wouldn’t ever say that, though; he wouldn’t let himself show weakness in front of the other male.
He stopped where he was standing and waited for the other to catch up to him. Running away wasn’t an option; Takeru would just chase after him. Shoving his hands in his jeans, hoping for what looked like a casual stance and not defensive, he simply said: “Takaishi.”
Takeru had already started down the path to reach the other (a head start in case the other meant to bolt was always welcome) when his surname was spoken. It felt wrong, on Iori's lips. Especially when he could think back of the times they understood each other completely, mind and soul synced to battle... but that was nearly a decade ago. He could now look down into the green of Iori's eyes and realize what a far cry they both were from back then, could remember all too well everything that had happened since then, had had it written um, archived in notes for his book... a book he now had doubts was a good thing to write. It could not end with things as they were.
He kept his smile up, though. It was still okay, so long as Iori was not running away, at least physically. He did seem calmer, too. Pushing his own hands in his pockets, Takeru gently sided the other, urging them to continue down the path. "Hey, you're one lucky birthday guy, so many people..." he started off conversationally, blue eyes inviting and noninvasive.
Iori let himself be led down the path; however, making sure to put more distance between the two of them. He really didn’t want to be touched. Nodding slowly, he replied, “Yes, I have some good friends now. Some of them even came back from college for this.” He’d been particularly happy to see Nase Yuki and Watase Kouji. They’d been his sempais in kendo club, and when Noriko had entered the picture, all four of them had become good friends.
The friends he had now were different than his old ones. He couldn’t tell them everything about his life, not if he wanted to stay out of a mental institution.
“So,” he quietly asked, “what is it that you want?” Takeru’s presence unsettled him. Once, they had been good friends; Iori felt he could talk to Takeru about things and he would understand. Like Ken… he frowned at the thought.
Takeru had been so eager to be there, to find a chance and talk things through... but now, walking side by side with Iori, alone, the words didn't seem to want to come. There was so much he wanted to say... but most of it was better left off for when he was sure it wouldn't bounce off all the walls that had erected between them. Still. He had to start somewhere. And that somewhere seemed to better be straight to the point. There weren't any fancy words he could pull out of his sleeve, any warming smiles, not when he wanted to be completely honest.
"Well, I wanted to apologise, really," he said, his tone that same blunt honesty he used to never hide when younger, when all it mattered was staying alive and making the world a balanced place. He realized how Iori might not have seen it as such though, so his lips curved anyway, in a small, bittersweet smile. "... not that I meant to force the responsibility of forgiving me on your shoulders, but," his smile faded slightly at the irony of his next words. "One can always, well, Hope."
He did not let the silence stretch after that. Silence meant past thoughts and frustrations falling to place and he didn't want that. "I was hoping you'd give me the chance to say what I feel like I should..." he went on, but then his expression steeled, solemn, letting their eyes meet. "though I won't if you don't want me to." And with that, with clenched fists deep in his pockets, he laid out what he felt was the last chance of them ever going back to the way it used to be. He gave Iori that choice, because it felt like the right thing to do, after all. "I can walk away," he promised, "and never talk to you again, if you so wish."
“What exactly is it that you’re apologizing for?” Iori turned to look at Takeru, eying him critically. He wasn’t sure that the other had ever understood why Iori had taken such offense to what he’d heard.
He’d found Takeru’s actions to be hypocritical. When Iori had dated Ken, Takeru and everyone else had warned him, told him to end it. When Ken had “died”, Takeru had held him as he cried; he’d seen how much it had hurt him. Iori had abandoned his family and friends for Ichijouji Ken. Yet, Takeru seemed surprised that Iori would be mad that he and Ken had done… something together.
The timing was another major factor, as well. They had either gotten together before Iori had returned or after Iori was back. Had they waited a few weeks, months, before getting together, deeming Iori dead to them. Or maybe it’d happened when Iori had asked for some space after seeing Ken again. Or had it been after he’d told Ken to leave him alone for good? Had he pushed him right into Takeru’s arms?
He’d come to expect things like that from Ken. The other could be cruel, making sure to punish with the harshest sentences. But Takeru… Takeru was supposed to be his friend, his jogress partner. Their hearts used to beat in time. How could he have betrayed Iori like that?
A part of Takeru cheered. At least now there was a chance... a chance that could easily be swept away, like the last of the April's bloom out of the grass siding the path they were walking on. But he resolved he would stay honest, no matter if it all backfired. He didn't want Iori back as a friend if it meant shading the truth with fancy words. Because eventually all truths surfaced.
"For not coming forward and speaking up about what happened with Ken to you, first and foremost," he said, decidedly, though his eyes strayed up to the setting sun now. "For hiding things from you because I was afraid I'd just make it all worse." He forced his eyes back to lock with the other's, though, he had to, to say this. "I won't tell you what to believe or what to feel, but I've never had anything short of that single, drunken moment with Ken. Nor have I ever felt compelled to."
Iori nodded along, idly, thinking about the other’s words. “So, basically, you’re sorry for getting caught.” The words were malice free and bland. Takeru looked like he wanted to say something to that, but Iori held up a hand to stop him. "You… you really hurt me. Both of you did.”
He turned away, towards the darkening bay, finding that not looking at Takeru helped. This way he didn’t have to look at his ‘please forgive me’ eyes. “I expect that kind of thing from Ichijouji. He’s good at hurting me, and if I didn’t know better, I would think that he spends his time finding new and inventive ways to hurt me. That would mean that he actually cared about me, though. But you… I expected more from you.”
He looked over his shoulder at the blond. “You betrayed me. You think that because you were drunk, that makes it better? It doesn’t; alcohol lowers your inhibitions but it doesn’t make you do something you don’t want to. I should know.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I’m not sure that I want to.” If the other wanted full honesty, Iori would give it to him.
Takeru winced at that. "No, Iori," he swayed his head lightly. "I don't regret being caught. I never intended to truly hide it. I regret not coming to tell you straight away and directly, because that's what I should have done." He sighed, not in frustration, but just at himself. Did he place his words wrong?
"I don't want to say this as an excuse but, at the time I hardly had any inhibitions, towards myself, let alone anybody else," he had let the other pace ahead, staying a couple of steps behind. "I had a serious problem that would had cost me my life and I have a hunch Ken knew. He let it happen on purpose, knowing I'd never have done it otherwise. And..." He looked down, briefly. No, he couldn't say he was sorry for getting closer to Ken. If that was what it took for them to get where they were now, then... then it had been worth something, at the very least, all odds against. "And he saved my life." he finished quietly. "I know I cannot undo what we did, and I'm not asking you to trust me or to forget it, but... for what it's worth, I just wanted you to know the truth."
Iori shrugged, conflicted with what to do. He’d written Takeru off a long time ago and moved on with his life. He had a good life: good friends, good girlfriend, good family, good academic career. Things were just going good right now.
“Fine, I know. So what?” He shrugged again, mouth quirked between frowning and smiling. “You apologized, said what you wanted to say, right? Mission accomplished?”
Takeru's eyes lifted to him, steady clear. Some of the weight had rolled off his shoulders at that, even though he knew they would still have a long way to go to become friends again, if they ever decided to take that path again. His lips twitched into a smile, slightly bitter, but he managed to keep it up. "I suppose," he said, calmly, "now I can walk away and believe that maybe someday you'll come after me again and call my name, not surname," his tone was soft, half a goodbye. He would not follow the other anymore if Iori wished to be alone. He had asked to say what he had meant to and nothing more. "When and if you'll be ready, of course."
Iori really didn’t know what to say. This whole thing seemed sudden to him, catching him unprepared. “Right,” he answered lamely, “I can’t promise anything.”
Takeru's smile was a little less strained now. "That's alright," he said, calmly. "You can promise me you'll still try to have a good time today instead, right? Don't let me being here ruin your fun, I promise I'm here just to help. We all are."
Iori slowly nodded, "Sure." He glanced between the empty beach and back up the beach, where everyone was. "Well, I guess I'll head back to the party." He started off back up the beach, only to stop short. Hesitantly, he turned back. "Are you coming?"
It wasn't much, but he could be civil.
"... yeah," the blond answered, feeling lighter, left counting footsteps as they walked back up the path.
Why: They need some closure
When: Sunday, May 16th, 2010
Who: Iori and Takeru, mentions of others
Where: Odaiba bay
Iori stood off by himself, further down the shore line. What a day. It had been rather fun, he would admit, even if he hadn't wanted a party. It had been rather odd, too. Takeru had shown up with Michael; Iori had no idea what to make of that. Several times, it had seemed like the blond had tried to catch his attention, but Iori had pretended not to see, trying to keep people between them.
He was getting a little tired of people now, even if they were his friends. So he'd slipped off from the group for a few minutes, only stopping to whisper in Noriko's ear (to which a bunch of their friends had hooted at) that he was going off for a bit but he'd be back.
Michael and Tai were at it again, debating the blond's shocking new pink laptop. Takeru didn't so much mind it as it was getting slightly old, even after a single day. He drained the last of his juice from the plastic cup, glad to have a reason to get away. "I'm gonna get more juice, be good you two," he promised, not really waiting for a reply before getting away, not that both the older boys spared him more then a glance or nod, too engrossed into their conversation.
He remembered some people from the lower grades in high school, smiled pleasantly in acknowledgment as he passed them by, too. He nearly reached the drinks table before spotting Noriko... alone. Iori had clung to her so busily the whole time, it had seemed nearly too convenient for Takeru to ever find a moment to say more than something in the passing... and now-
He saw him, walking outside, just barely catching his retreating back. Placing the plastic cup down, the blond hurried through the crowd after him, intent to catch him this time. The sun was still up when he walked out, the slight breeze wafting up from the sea not as warm as it would become in full summer yet, but still pleasant. And just a little while ahead, Iori was idly walking down the path. "Iori?" he called after him, just loud enough to hear. He would not run away this time.
Iori turned around as his name was called, ready to call back. The voice registered as he caught sight of the blond hair, turning him speechless. His stomach clenched unpleasantly, reminding him of all the fun stress could cause. He momentarily wondered of asking Takeru to leave him alone for the sake of decreasing the risk of another ulcer. He wouldn’t ever say that, though; he wouldn’t let himself show weakness in front of the other male.
He stopped where he was standing and waited for the other to catch up to him. Running away wasn’t an option; Takeru would just chase after him. Shoving his hands in his jeans, hoping for what looked like a casual stance and not defensive, he simply said: “Takaishi.”
Takeru had already started down the path to reach the other (a head start in case the other meant to bolt was always welcome) when his surname was spoken. It felt wrong, on Iori's lips. Especially when he could think back of the times they understood each other completely, mind and soul synced to battle... but that was nearly a decade ago. He could now look down into the green of Iori's eyes and realize what a far cry they both were from back then, could remember all too well everything that had happened since then, had had it written um, archived in notes for his book... a book he now had doubts was a good thing to write. It could not end with things as they were.
He kept his smile up, though. It was still okay, so long as Iori was not running away, at least physically. He did seem calmer, too. Pushing his own hands in his pockets, Takeru gently sided the other, urging them to continue down the path. "Hey, you're one lucky birthday guy, so many people..." he started off conversationally, blue eyes inviting and noninvasive.
Iori let himself be led down the path; however, making sure to put more distance between the two of them. He really didn’t want to be touched. Nodding slowly, he replied, “Yes, I have some good friends now. Some of them even came back from college for this.” He’d been particularly happy to see Nase Yuki and Watase Kouji. They’d been his sempais in kendo club, and when Noriko had entered the picture, all four of them had become good friends.
The friends he had now were different than his old ones. He couldn’t tell them everything about his life, not if he wanted to stay out of a mental institution.
“So,” he quietly asked, “what is it that you want?” Takeru’s presence unsettled him. Once, they had been good friends; Iori felt he could talk to Takeru about things and he would understand. Like Ken… he frowned at the thought.
Takeru had been so eager to be there, to find a chance and talk things through... but now, walking side by side with Iori, alone, the words didn't seem to want to come. There was so much he wanted to say... but most of it was better left off for when he was sure it wouldn't bounce off all the walls that had erected between them. Still. He had to start somewhere. And that somewhere seemed to better be straight to the point. There weren't any fancy words he could pull out of his sleeve, any warming smiles, not when he wanted to be completely honest.
"Well, I wanted to apologise, really," he said, his tone that same blunt honesty he used to never hide when younger, when all it mattered was staying alive and making the world a balanced place. He realized how Iori might not have seen it as such though, so his lips curved anyway, in a small, bittersweet smile. "... not that I meant to force the responsibility of forgiving me on your shoulders, but," his smile faded slightly at the irony of his next words. "One can always, well, Hope."
He did not let the silence stretch after that. Silence meant past thoughts and frustrations falling to place and he didn't want that. "I was hoping you'd give me the chance to say what I feel like I should..." he went on, but then his expression steeled, solemn, letting their eyes meet. "though I won't if you don't want me to." And with that, with clenched fists deep in his pockets, he laid out what he felt was the last chance of them ever going back to the way it used to be. He gave Iori that choice, because it felt like the right thing to do, after all. "I can walk away," he promised, "and never talk to you again, if you so wish."
“What exactly is it that you’re apologizing for?” Iori turned to look at Takeru, eying him critically. He wasn’t sure that the other had ever understood why Iori had taken such offense to what he’d heard.
He’d found Takeru’s actions to be hypocritical. When Iori had dated Ken, Takeru and everyone else had warned him, told him to end it. When Ken had “died”, Takeru had held him as he cried; he’d seen how much it had hurt him. Iori had abandoned his family and friends for Ichijouji Ken. Yet, Takeru seemed surprised that Iori would be mad that he and Ken had done… something together.
The timing was another major factor, as well. They had either gotten together before Iori had returned or after Iori was back. Had they waited a few weeks, months, before getting together, deeming Iori dead to them. Or maybe it’d happened when Iori had asked for some space after seeing Ken again. Or had it been after he’d told Ken to leave him alone for good? Had he pushed him right into Takeru’s arms?
He’d come to expect things like that from Ken. The other could be cruel, making sure to punish with the harshest sentences. But Takeru… Takeru was supposed to be his friend, his jogress partner. Their hearts used to beat in time. How could he have betrayed Iori like that?
A part of Takeru cheered. At least now there was a chance... a chance that could easily be swept away, like the last of the April's bloom out of the grass siding the path they were walking on. But he resolved he would stay honest, no matter if it all backfired. He didn't want Iori back as a friend if it meant shading the truth with fancy words. Because eventually all truths surfaced.
"For not coming forward and speaking up about what happened with Ken to you, first and foremost," he said, decidedly, though his eyes strayed up to the setting sun now. "For hiding things from you because I was afraid I'd just make it all worse." He forced his eyes back to lock with the other's, though, he had to, to say this. "I won't tell you what to believe or what to feel, but I've never had anything short of that single, drunken moment with Ken. Nor have I ever felt compelled to."
Iori nodded along, idly, thinking about the other’s words. “So, basically, you’re sorry for getting caught.” The words were malice free and bland. Takeru looked like he wanted to say something to that, but Iori held up a hand to stop him. "You… you really hurt me. Both of you did.”
He turned away, towards the darkening bay, finding that not looking at Takeru helped. This way he didn’t have to look at his ‘please forgive me’ eyes. “I expect that kind of thing from Ichijouji. He’s good at hurting me, and if I didn’t know better, I would think that he spends his time finding new and inventive ways to hurt me. That would mean that he actually cared about me, though. But you… I expected more from you.”
He looked over his shoulder at the blond. “You betrayed me. You think that because you were drunk, that makes it better? It doesn’t; alcohol lowers your inhibitions but it doesn’t make you do something you don’t want to. I should know.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I’m not sure that I want to.” If the other wanted full honesty, Iori would give it to him.
Takeru winced at that. "No, Iori," he swayed his head lightly. "I don't regret being caught. I never intended to truly hide it. I regret not coming to tell you straight away and directly, because that's what I should have done." He sighed, not in frustration, but just at himself. Did he place his words wrong?
"I don't want to say this as an excuse but, at the time I hardly had any inhibitions, towards myself, let alone anybody else," he had let the other pace ahead, staying a couple of steps behind. "I had a serious problem that would had cost me my life and I have a hunch Ken knew. He let it happen on purpose, knowing I'd never have done it otherwise. And..." He looked down, briefly. No, he couldn't say he was sorry for getting closer to Ken. If that was what it took for them to get where they were now, then... then it had been worth something, at the very least, all odds against. "And he saved my life." he finished quietly. "I know I cannot undo what we did, and I'm not asking you to trust me or to forget it, but... for what it's worth, I just wanted you to know the truth."
Iori shrugged, conflicted with what to do. He’d written Takeru off a long time ago and moved on with his life. He had a good life: good friends, good girlfriend, good family, good academic career. Things were just going good right now.
“Fine, I know. So what?” He shrugged again, mouth quirked between frowning and smiling. “You apologized, said what you wanted to say, right? Mission accomplished?”
Takeru's eyes lifted to him, steady clear. Some of the weight had rolled off his shoulders at that, even though he knew they would still have a long way to go to become friends again, if they ever decided to take that path again. His lips twitched into a smile, slightly bitter, but he managed to keep it up. "I suppose," he said, calmly, "now I can walk away and believe that maybe someday you'll come after me again and call my name, not surname," his tone was soft, half a goodbye. He would not follow the other anymore if Iori wished to be alone. He had asked to say what he had meant to and nothing more. "When and if you'll be ready, of course."
Iori really didn’t know what to say. This whole thing seemed sudden to him, catching him unprepared. “Right,” he answered lamely, “I can’t promise anything.”
Takeru's smile was a little less strained now. "That's alright," he said, calmly. "You can promise me you'll still try to have a good time today instead, right? Don't let me being here ruin your fun, I promise I'm here just to help. We all are."
Iori slowly nodded, "Sure." He glanced between the empty beach and back up the beach, where everyone was. "Well, I guess I'll head back to the party." He started off back up the beach, only to stop short. Hesitantly, he turned back. "Are you coming?"
It wasn't much, but he could be civil.
"... yeah," the blond answered, feeling lighter, left counting footsteps as they walked back up the path.