Kaine / Rewind
Title: Rewind
Fandom: Kaine
Characters: ケイ (Kei), Ｒｙｏ
Table: One
Prompt: 014. Chair
Word Count: 2086
Rating: PG
Summary: This is the story of how everything began.
Author's Notes: Serves as a sort of omake chapter/introduction during the band's earliest days.
~ Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
-- T.S. Eliot ~
014. chair
He didn't really like Mikura Keisuke the first time he met him.
It was on a late Friday night at the Yellow Room in Yoyogi. He had been packing up his things backstage after the failure of another gig when he saw him for the first time. Standing there in his checkered red polo and black denim jeans, he was looking down on him while he was putting his guitar back in its case on the floor. Messy, shoulder-length black hair, dark gray eyes that were too deep-set, and yet still held that tightness around the edges. It made him wonder if he was Japanese or not.
Ryou straightened himself up from the floor, standing about an inch taller than him, slightly creasing his forehead. He was only about to ask what the man must've needed when he spoke first.
"The band that played third tonight," His voice was a calm baritone. He spoke in a natural Japanese tongue. "That was yours, right?"
"Yeah," he said. "Why?"
A small snicker formed on his lips. "It sucks."
Ryou narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, I wasn't asking for your opinion."
The man's gaze fell on the guitar case on the floor.
"You play good," he said. "But the rest of you sound awful."
Ryou put a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it in growing impatience. His bandmates were already waiting for him outside. He didn't want to pick a fight with some stranger. He didn't know who this guy was and what he was doing here, but he didn't care. He looked at the doors leading back to the main hall. The noise seemed to have dwindled down. All the bands were done for the night.
"Yeah well, thanks for watching us anyway," he muttered, picking up his guitar bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulders. He had only turned on his back when the man spoke again.
"How about you join mine?"
He turned around and creased his forehead at him. "What?"
"My band," he smirked. "I'm looking for members right now."
Ryou stared at him. It was his turn to smile wryly as he put a hand inside the pocket of his jeans. "You insult me and now you ask me to join your band?"
"It's your band that sucks," he grinned. "Not you."
He slowly raised his eyebrows. "You have the nerve to ask someone who's already in another group."
"You're wasting your time there," he drawled. "You guys were all over the place earlier. You were giving everyone a headache."
He narrowed his eyes at him again. It was tempting to punch the guy, even if he was right.
"We're playing here on Tuesday," The man smiled. "You can come see us."
Ryou felt something harden in his jaw. It was always the case when he attempted to smile.
"You'll change your mind," he said. "Once you hear me sing."
Ryou dryly chuckled. "You've got cheek, don't you?"
"As long as you come see us," The man smiled. "You'll know what I mean."
Ryou turned on his heel without another thought. He didn't hear the man say anything more as he headed on his way to the fire exit at the end of the corridor.
"Fucking asshole," he snarled under his breath as he pushed the doors open on his way out.
Scratching his head and yawning, Ryou continued walking down the street on his way home the following Tuesday evening. He adjusted the sling bag over his shoulder with a short sigh, thankful that the long day was finally over. It had been busier than usual at the supermarket today where he was working part-time. The store had restocked and his arms had grown sore from all the carrying he had to do. It was a good thing it was his day-off tomorrow. He could get some rest.
His cellphone began to ring as he walked past a bakeshop. He took the mobile from his pocket and flipped it open. It was Yoji, their band's lead vocalist.
"Ryou-chan?" The man chirped aloud when he brought the phone to his ear. "Where are you right now?"
"I'm on my way home," He creased his forehead. "Why?"
"Ah, sou ka? We're having a session at Haru's place tomorrow," The other line said. "Can you come?"
Ryou briefly closed his eyes. So much for his day-off. "What time?"
"Around three, I guess," His friend replied. "We'll see you there then?"
"Yeah," he muttered. He flipped the phone back inside his pocket and audibly sighed as the call ended. He resumed walking and tiredly put a hand to the bridge of his nose. At least he could still get a few more hours' sleep. He only wished he and his bandmates could actually achieve some progress tomorrow. The rest of them just never seemed to take anything seriously. It was no wonder they messed up at their lives each time.
He had only continued on his way when he saw a familiar-looking sign a few meters away. He realized he had already arrived at Yoyogi's bar district, which was always on his way home from the supermarket. He paused at the Yellow Room's all too familiar board sign, with its list of performers for the night written in colorful chalk. He suddenly remembered the cheeky asshole who had asked him to join his band.
Ryou looked at his watch. It was half-past nine on a Tuesday night. That guy's band would be performing tonight.
He stared at the board again. There were five bands playing tonight. He glanced at the small staircase leading to the entrance of the Yellow Room downstairs. He could hear the music from where he was standing.
Ryou's eyebrows met. Would he bother? The guy was such a flip, he probably sucked. Then again he wasn't one to judge. He just hoped he sucked.
Clucking his tongue, Ryou began his descent to the Yellow Room. The noise began to grow as he neared the doors until the music completely pounded in his ears the moment he went inside. There was a bigger crowd tonight, and it took some effort to move around. The band onstage was just plain noisy. He looked at the vocalist. It wasn't his group.
He moved to the bar and found an empty seat. He exchanged nods with the bartender the moment he sat down.
"Hey, Ryou-kun," The man greeted. "You guys playing tonight?"
"No," He shook his head. The bartender opened a bottle of beer for him. Ryou took it, taking a small swig as he turned to face the stage again.
"What are you doing here then?" The man behind him asked, voice loud enough to be heard. "Came to check out some bands?"
"Sort of," he replied. The song came to a sudden end. There were a few claps at the end of the performance. The vocalist said his thank yous as his group began to exit the stage. The next group came in a few minutes later. He saw a man in a black shirt and white sleeves and knew it was him. There were several hoots at their entrance.
"Hey guys, how are you all doing?" he spoke to the microphone with a smile. The rest of his bandmates were setting up behind him. "We're the Holly Marys. Yoroshiku."
"Our first song is a cover from Oblivion Dust," he continued. He exchanged looks with his fellow members as they took their places. "This is Designer Fetus."
There were four beats of the cymbals before the song finally began. The music came strong and heavy in the thick and dull air of the hall, immediately catching the attention of the rest of the crowd. Kei began nodding his head to the music, hands gripping the microphone on its stand.
If you've found me call my answer phone
A play back to help the bruises glow
I'm afraid to be alone right now
Ryou felt his eyebrows meeting. The lyrics were in straight English, and he realized it had been more than just the looks that didn't really make him Japanese. The guy was completely fluent with the language.
Thought I was still unborn
But they've pulled me out and they've got me living
Sometimes I'm so mature because my mirror image ages faster, I
Can't burn, can't burn my blood
Can't burn, can't burn my God
Ryou looked around the room. It was clear that everyone shared the same thought. The band was good. He was good. He had to admit that even to himself.
Yeah, fluke, designer fetus is my name
Designed by them to entertain
Don't know how I can't explain
They broke into my untouched brain
Sent me out and left me there
Never bothered to repair the damage they did so,
Kei extended an arm to the crowd, beckoning them with his fingers. Some began to nod their heads, moving to the music. Ryou leaned back to his chair and took another swig of his beer.
"They're pretty good, aren't they?" The bartender said behind him. "They started out here just three weeks ago."
Kei spotted him by the bar and looked at him from the stage. Ryou merely stared back at him. The man only grinned.
Taking out the pack of cigarettes from the back of his jeans, Ryou brought a stick to his mouth and lit it as he ascended the stairs on his way out of the Yellow Room. He had only begun walking down the street when he heard someone calling out behind him. He turned around and frowned the moment he saw the vocalist of the Holly Marys running to him. The man seemed to have emerged from the backstage exit in the nearby alley.
"Hey...!" Kei wheezed, halting in his tracks before him. He brought his hands to his knees in exhaustion. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going home," he replied.
"Well, you saw us live," he said, standing up again in recomposure. "What do you think?"
Ryou took a deep drag of his cigarette. "You're good."
Kei raised his eyebrows at him. "That's it?"
Ryou exhaled the smoke through his lips and stared sorely at him. "What the hell do you want?"
"I want you to join my band," he said. "Haven't you changed your mind yet?"
Ryou creased his forehead. "You and your band are already good. You don't need any new members."
Kei scratched his head. "I'm not sticking with those guys. I'm making a new one."
He frowned at him in confusion. "Why?"
"They're just doing it for fun, you know?" he shrugged. "They don't want to take it seriously."
"Same here," he muttered.
"You don't want to become famous?"
Ryou looked back at him. "Why do you want me to join your band?"
"Because I think you're good."
Ryou merely kept his leveled gaze at him. "I'm already in a band."
"You can quit," Kei innocently proposed. "I'm quitting mine too."
"It's not that easy," he grunted, taking another whiff of his cigarette.
"Of course it is," The man nonchalantly said. "Come on, so what do you say?"
Ryou shook his head and blew out the smoke. It scattered in a silvery haze before them. "You're crazy. I don't even know you."
Kei sighed, fumbling for something in the pocket of his jeans. He took out his wallet and handed him a business card. Ryou managed to read without accepting it.
He stared at him again, cigarette on his lips. "You work in a publishing company."
"Hey, can't live on music alone," he shrugged, ushering the card at his direction. "Take it. Call me if you change your mind."
Ryou warily narrowed his eyes at him, but wordlessly accepted the card.
"I'll be waiting for your call," he teased with a lazy grin. Ryou fought back a scowl and merely slipped the card inside the pocket of his jeans as he turned on his heel to leave. He took another drag of his cigarette, continuing on his way, and arrived at the end of the block to cross the street. He turned around to look behind him. Kei wasn't there anymore.
Ryou took a last hit of his stick before putting it out on the trash bin next to him. He crossed the street and placed his hands inside his pockets, feeling the card in his fingertips.
The following morning, Ryou decided to skip practice and merely slept for the rest of the day.
終り
Designer Fetus lyrics by Oblivion Dust
I should be catching up on schoolwork right now >__>;
Fandom: Kaine
Characters: ケイ (Kei), Ｒｙｏ
Table: One
Prompt: 014. Chair
Word Count: 2086
Rating: PG
Summary: This is the story of how everything began.
Author's Notes: Serves as a sort of omake chapter/introduction during the band's earliest days.
~ Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
-- T.S. Eliot ~
014. chair
He didn't really like Mikura Keisuke the first time he met him.
It was on a late Friday night at the Yellow Room in Yoyogi. He had been packing up his things backstage after the failure of another gig when he saw him for the first time. Standing there in his checkered red polo and black denim jeans, he was looking down on him while he was putting his guitar back in its case on the floor. Messy, shoulder-length black hair, dark gray eyes that were too deep-set, and yet still held that tightness around the edges. It made him wonder if he was Japanese or not.
Ryou straightened himself up from the floor, standing about an inch taller than him, slightly creasing his forehead. He was only about to ask what the man must've needed when he spoke first.
"The band that played third tonight," His voice was a calm baritone. He spoke in a natural Japanese tongue. "That was yours, right?"
"Yeah," he said. "Why?"
A small snicker formed on his lips. "It sucks."
Ryou narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, I wasn't asking for your opinion."
The man's gaze fell on the guitar case on the floor.
"You play good," he said. "But the rest of you sound awful."
Ryou put a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it in growing impatience. His bandmates were already waiting for him outside. He didn't want to pick a fight with some stranger. He didn't know who this guy was and what he was doing here, but he didn't care. He looked at the doors leading back to the main hall. The noise seemed to have dwindled down. All the bands were done for the night.
"Yeah well, thanks for watching us anyway," he muttered, picking up his guitar bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulders. He had only turned on his back when the man spoke again.
"How about you join mine?"
He turned around and creased his forehead at him. "What?"
"My band," he smirked. "I'm looking for members right now."
Ryou stared at him. It was his turn to smile wryly as he put a hand inside the pocket of his jeans. "You insult me and now you ask me to join your band?"
"It's your band that sucks," he grinned. "Not you."
He slowly raised his eyebrows. "You have the nerve to ask someone who's already in another group."
"You're wasting your time there," he drawled. "You guys were all over the place earlier. You were giving everyone a headache."
He narrowed his eyes at him again. It was tempting to punch the guy, even if he was right.
"We're playing here on Tuesday," The man smiled. "You can come see us."
Ryou felt something harden in his jaw. It was always the case when he attempted to smile.
"You'll change your mind," he said. "Once you hear me sing."
Ryou dryly chuckled. "You've got cheek, don't you?"
"As long as you come see us," The man smiled. "You'll know what I mean."
Ryou turned on his heel without another thought. He didn't hear the man say anything more as he headed on his way to the fire exit at the end of the corridor.
"Fucking asshole," he snarled under his breath as he pushed the doors open on his way out.
Scratching his head and yawning, Ryou continued walking down the street on his way home the following Tuesday evening. He adjusted the sling bag over his shoulder with a short sigh, thankful that the long day was finally over. It had been busier than usual at the supermarket today where he was working part-time. The store had restocked and his arms had grown sore from all the carrying he had to do. It was a good thing it was his day-off tomorrow. He could get some rest.
His cellphone began to ring as he walked past a bakeshop. He took the mobile from his pocket and flipped it open. It was Yoji, their band's lead vocalist.
"Ryou-chan?" The man chirped aloud when he brought the phone to his ear. "Where are you right now?"
"I'm on my way home," He creased his forehead. "Why?"
"Ah, sou ka? We're having a session at Haru's place tomorrow," The other line said. "Can you come?"
Ryou briefly closed his eyes. So much for his day-off. "What time?"
"Around three, I guess," His friend replied. "We'll see you there then?"
"Yeah," he muttered. He flipped the phone back inside his pocket and audibly sighed as the call ended. He resumed walking and tiredly put a hand to the bridge of his nose. At least he could still get a few more hours' sleep. He only wished he and his bandmates could actually achieve some progress tomorrow. The rest of them just never seemed to take anything seriously. It was no wonder they messed up at their lives each time.
He had only continued on his way when he saw a familiar-looking sign a few meters away. He realized he had already arrived at Yoyogi's bar district, which was always on his way home from the supermarket. He paused at the Yellow Room's all too familiar board sign, with its list of performers for the night written in colorful chalk. He suddenly remembered the cheeky asshole who had asked him to join his band.
Ryou looked at his watch. It was half-past nine on a Tuesday night. That guy's band would be performing tonight.
He stared at the board again. There were five bands playing tonight. He glanced at the small staircase leading to the entrance of the Yellow Room downstairs. He could hear the music from where he was standing.
Ryou's eyebrows met. Would he bother? The guy was such a flip, he probably sucked. Then again he wasn't one to judge. He just hoped he sucked.
Clucking his tongue, Ryou began his descent to the Yellow Room. The noise began to grow as he neared the doors until the music completely pounded in his ears the moment he went inside. There was a bigger crowd tonight, and it took some effort to move around. The band onstage was just plain noisy. He looked at the vocalist. It wasn't his group.
He moved to the bar and found an empty seat. He exchanged nods with the bartender the moment he sat down.
"Hey, Ryou-kun," The man greeted. "You guys playing tonight?"
"No," He shook his head. The bartender opened a bottle of beer for him. Ryou took it, taking a small swig as he turned to face the stage again.
"What are you doing here then?" The man behind him asked, voice loud enough to be heard. "Came to check out some bands?"
"Sort of," he replied. The song came to a sudden end. There were a few claps at the end of the performance. The vocalist said his thank yous as his group began to exit the stage. The next group came in a few minutes later. He saw a man in a black shirt and white sleeves and knew it was him. There were several hoots at their entrance.
"Hey guys, how are you all doing?" he spoke to the microphone with a smile. The rest of his bandmates were setting up behind him. "We're the Holly Marys. Yoroshiku."
"Our first song is a cover from Oblivion Dust," he continued. He exchanged looks with his fellow members as they took their places. "This is Designer Fetus."
There were four beats of the cymbals before the song finally began. The music came strong and heavy in the thick and dull air of the hall, immediately catching the attention of the rest of the crowd. Kei began nodding his head to the music, hands gripping the microphone on its stand.
If you've found me call my answer phone
A play back to help the bruises glow
I'm afraid to be alone right now
Ryou felt his eyebrows meeting. The lyrics were in straight English, and he realized it had been more than just the looks that didn't really make him Japanese. The guy was completely fluent with the language.
Thought I was still unborn
But they've pulled me out and they've got me living
Sometimes I'm so mature because my mirror image ages faster, I
Can't burn, can't burn my blood
Can't burn, can't burn my God
Ryou looked around the room. It was clear that everyone shared the same thought. The band was good. He was good. He had to admit that even to himself.
Yeah, fluke, designer fetus is my name
Designed by them to entertain
Don't know how I can't explain
They broke into my untouched brain
Sent me out and left me there
Never bothered to repair the damage they did so,
Kei extended an arm to the crowd, beckoning them with his fingers. Some began to nod their heads, moving to the music. Ryou leaned back to his chair and took another swig of his beer.
"They're pretty good, aren't they?" The bartender said behind him. "They started out here just three weeks ago."
Kei spotted him by the bar and looked at him from the stage. Ryou merely stared back at him. The man only grinned.
Taking out the pack of cigarettes from the back of his jeans, Ryou brought a stick to his mouth and lit it as he ascended the stairs on his way out of the Yellow Room. He had only begun walking down the street when he heard someone calling out behind him. He turned around and frowned the moment he saw the vocalist of the Holly Marys running to him. The man seemed to have emerged from the backstage exit in the nearby alley.
"Hey...!" Kei wheezed, halting in his tracks before him. He brought his hands to his knees in exhaustion. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going home," he replied.
"Well, you saw us live," he said, standing up again in recomposure. "What do you think?"
Ryou took a deep drag of his cigarette. "You're good."
Kei raised his eyebrows at him. "That's it?"
Ryou exhaled the smoke through his lips and stared sorely at him. "What the hell do you want?"
"I want you to join my band," he said. "Haven't you changed your mind yet?"
Ryou creased his forehead. "You and your band are already good. You don't need any new members."
Kei scratched his head. "I'm not sticking with those guys. I'm making a new one."
He frowned at him in confusion. "Why?"
"They're just doing it for fun, you know?" he shrugged. "They don't want to take it seriously."
"Same here," he muttered.
"You don't want to become famous?"
Ryou looked back at him. "Why do you want me to join your band?"
"Because I think you're good."
Ryou merely kept his leveled gaze at him. "I'm already in a band."
"You can quit," Kei innocently proposed. "I'm quitting mine too."
"It's not that easy," he grunted, taking another whiff of his cigarette.
"Of course it is," The man nonchalantly said. "Come on, so what do you say?"
Ryou shook his head and blew out the smoke. It scattered in a silvery haze before them. "You're crazy. I don't even know you."
Kei sighed, fumbling for something in the pocket of his jeans. He took out his wallet and handed him a business card. Ryou managed to read without accepting it.
He stared at him again, cigarette on his lips. "You work in a publishing company."
"Hey, can't live on music alone," he shrugged, ushering the card at his direction. "Take it. Call me if you change your mind."
Ryou warily narrowed his eyes at him, but wordlessly accepted the card.
"I'll be waiting for your call," he teased with a lazy grin. Ryou fought back a scowl and merely slipped the card inside the pocket of his jeans as he turned on his heel to leave. He took another drag of his cigarette, continuing on his way, and arrived at the end of the block to cross the street. He turned around to look behind him. Kei wasn't there anymore.
Ryou took a last hit of his stick before putting it out on the trash bin next to him. He crossed the street and placed his hands inside his pockets, feeling the card in his fingertips.
The following morning, Ryou decided to skip practice and merely slept for the rest of the day.
終り
Designer Fetus lyrics by Oblivion Dust
I should be catching up on schoolwork right now >__>;