Fanfiction: Always By Your Side (Part 3/3: The Cross on My Heart)
Characters: Tsubasa, Tatsumi, Takki and OCs
Pairing: Tsubami, TsubaOC and TakiTsuba
Genre: AU, angst, fluff, horror, mystery and romance
Rating: NC17 (for horror elements)
Summary: A trip back to his hometown uncovers painful old wounds. But Tsubasa learns that sometimes you have to surface them to heal them.
Disclaimer: It's a painful truth, but I don't own the boys.
Note: For Imai Julia, who thinks I can take a stab at horror. Thank you.
Part 1/3: Things You Don’t See
Part 2/3: Betrayal from the Grave
The Cross on My Heart
It was a long drive back to Shonan, his hometown. But Tsubasa didn't mind. He needed the break.
'I don't know what's troubling you, son. And I don’t wanna push you. I just want you to know that when you're ready to share, I'm all ears.'
'I know. Thank you.'
'You know what? You could take a break in the country. The country air might clear your mind a bit.'
Like an obedient son, Tsubasa agreed. After selling off his place and ending Tatsumi's lease, Tsubasa moved in to live with his father. The huge mansion that once seemed bleak and dreary after his mother's death, was beginning to feel surprisingly homely again. Although their interaction remained mostly silence peppered with occasional awkward comments on how the stock market was performing, Tsubasa was slowly warming up to his father. They had even begun a nightly ritual of sharing sake before bed. In those quiet moments, it would be far-fetched to say that it felt like family again. But his father was at least beginning to feel like a kindred soul.
Pain was their bond. But Tsubasa's cut deeper. He would never know if his lover and half brother, who had betrayed him and used him, ever really loved him.
On very next weekend, Tsubasa set off for some mind-clearing country air.
Hours of long drive down the dusty road finally carried him back to a time more innocent. Getting out of his convertible, Tsubasa carelessly combed back his wind-ravished hair with his fingers, then sashayed down the walkway into the arms of a hot mama waiting for him. In the evening sun, his childhood home was basking with a faint glow, even was the footpath was gleaming. It was like walking into a dream where all troubles melt away. And when his 92 year-old granny's arms wrapped lovingly around him, it truly felt like heaven.
Being home again was like reliving his childhood. He was once again Little Errand Boy. To welcome him home, his grandmother had ordered the maid to cook ridiculous amount of food, enough to feed a small army; and he was once again tasked to share them all around the neighourhood. And once again, he was exposed to a barrage of molest by an assortment of obasans. They used to shower kisses on him when he was little because he resembled Actor Oda Yuji, a major heart-throb. Now that he was all grown up and oozing manliness, it was double the sex appeal. He even had to flee out of a neighbour's clinging onto his half-unzipped pants.
But nothing was quite as traumatic as having to enter the Takizawa's.
............
The stately home was much changed. It was akin to waking from an opium-laden fantasy to the harsh bitterness of reality. What used to be white-washed walls were now grey and dull. Once large, lofty windows now only seemed like vacant, sorrowful eyes. The lush garden too was no longer, overrun by weeds, decay and neglect. The interior was a further depression of the soul. Dark draperies hung from the ceiling, as if to shut the lights out. And what little feeble lights that seeped through indicated that the profuse furniture, though familiar, were now all comfortless, antique and tattered.
Takizawa Senior smiled a bittersweet smile when he received the bento sets. For a moment, his tired eyes flickered. He tapped Tsubasa's shoulders lightly, then held onto them weakly, saying, 'You've grown up real well.'
While he was talking, Mrs Takizawa stepped in. She passed slowly through a remote part of the living room, not noticing his presence.
'What about Takki? Did he grow up real well too?'
Tsubasa didn't know what made him say that - the very things he had forbidden himself to think about. He hated Takki.
It was then Mrs Takizawa stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and gazed mournfully in his direction, before burying her pale face into her hands. Those bony shrunken hands looked like they had once held too many passionate tears.
...........
Sitting in Takki's room, Tsubasa wanted to die there. How could he? How could he tear up her old wounds that had yet to heal? How could he? But he didn't know. He didn't know that Takki was dead.
...........
'Why are you crying?'
Little Tsubasa looked away and bit his lips to stop the tears. Ignoring the snub, the intruder sat down next to him, a little apart. Like a statue, he waited. Finally, Tsubasa answered, 'My parents're supposed to pick me up but they're not here yet.'
Little Takki looked around. It was getting late and the school was nearly empty. He had stayed behind because his teacher had made him assistant theatre director to the school's upcoming play and there was always much planning to do.
'I'll wait with you.'
'Aren't your parents picking you up soon?'
'No, I go home on my own.'
'That's very grown up,' Tsubasa remarked, thoroughly impressed.
'Nay, my parents are just too busy,' Takki shrugged, a little crestfallen. 'Let's wait together then.'
'You can leave if it gets too late or dark.'
'No, I'll stay here, right here by your side,' Takki beamed.
.................
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. After the incident, the two young boys became fast friends. Not only did they go to the same school, they lived in the same neighbourhood. It soon became a norm for Tsubasa’s mom to send one boy to school but bring two home. The boys would have a quick lunch then run off to Takki’s home.
Takki’s home had many things Tsubasa’s didn’t. It had a generous backyard, where Tsubasa taught Takki how to play baseball and the younger boy taught him how to play the kendama. In Takki’s room, there was a western-styled bed, where they bounced on until they collapsed in giddiness; and where Takki practiced wrestling moves on him. In the bathroom, there was a large bathtub, where they would float rubber duckies or simply soak in the warm, calming water. Best of all, there was no adult; there was only the two of them.
…………..
‘What was that?’ Tsubasa asked, rudely startled from his snooze in the bath.
Takki only looked on dumbly.
‘What did you just do?’ Tsubasa interrogated again, wetting his palm then vigorously wiping his lips with them. ‘Did you just kiss me?’
‘I thought you were okay with it,’ Takki defended earnestly. ‘You didn’t object the last time.’
‘The last time?! When was it?!’
‘Last night.’
‘Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t object because I was sleeping?!’
Takki turned away red-faced, pouting enough for the whole contingent of Miss Universe contestants.
‘Fine. I’ll never kiss you again,’ the scorned boy retorted.
It didn’t take Tsubasa long to regret his rejection. When his best friend ignored him for the rest of the day, Tsubasa realized that being sexually harassed by Takki was a small price to pay for the company of a dear friend.
In the evening, when Tsubasa’s father came to fetch him home, the offender planted himself nervously in front of Takki. Restless and fidgety, he mumbled, ‘You can kiss me’, pecked the still pouting lips, then dashed through the gates.
From that day on, Takki’s home had taken a new attraction for Tsubasa. It wasn’t just a place for them to play to their hearts’ content; it had become a place where they could be free. It was a place where they could run around naked, hug, kiss and touch each other in places where adults would disapprove.
……………
Sitting on Takki’s bed after all these years, it suddenly looked so small. The bed where they had countless sleepovers, where they shared their dreams of becoming a baseball celeb and a wrestling star, where they melted contentedly into each other, now looked too tiny to ever have contained so much joy. It had also lost its bounce. Sinking into the sluggish mattress, Tsubasa felt as if his heart sank too. But news of Takki’s death had yet to fully sink in. It floated above the thin line between denial and reality.
Everything else was unchanged - the childish furniture, posters on the wall, comics on the shelf, the stuffed Mickey and Minnie Mouse on the bed; everything was still there. Tsubasa couldn’t believe that Takki wasn’t there too, that he wasn’t about to step into the room any minute now.
But Takki didn’t come, even after he cried his eyes swollen, even after he soaked Mickey with torrent of tears, or even after wailed his throat hoarse. Now, there wasn’t the two of them anymore, it was only him and nothing more.
Late that evening, as he was about to leave for the cemetery, Mrs Takizawa stopped him at the door. With cold, limp hands, she gave him a photo frame. Inside was a smiling picture of him and Takki.
‘This is Takki’s favourite photo. I can see why. Because you’re in it,’ she explained as she lightly fingered the contours of her son’s face. ‘I wasn’t there for him. And I only realised what I lost when he died. Thank you for loving him for me. You’ve made him so happy.’ Mrs Takizawa forced a weak smile and continued, ‘Seeing you here today, it suddenly hit me that so much time had passed. Too much time lost, lost in grief. Maybe it’s time that I step out of it.’ Embracing Tsubasa gently but firmly, she said, ‘Thank you for coming.’
……………
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am in the stars that shine.
I am in the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
The words on Takki’s tombstone pierced Tsubasa. But it didn’t hurt. And he didn’t cry. Because he didn’t have any tears left. He had already been emptied, like a hollow, soulless walking zombie. Nobody or nothing could hurt him anymore because he too had died.
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry for forgetting you, for forcing myself to forget you. When you didn’t send me off, I thought that you had forgotten. I thought you didn’t care. And then you didn’t write or call at all.’
Caressing the tombstone lovingly, Tsubasa sighed, ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know that you couldn’t.’
…………..
Takki had promised Tsubasa that he would send him off that morning. But the little boy had spent all night crying and overslept. By the time he had blazed down the street in his pajamas and caught sight of Tsubasa Senior’s car, it was already about to disappear out of sight. No matter how lightning fast he ran, his short legs were no match for petrol-fuelled machinery.
The back of that cold, hard ton of steel was the last thing the running and shouting boy saw. Blinded to everything else, he didn’t see the truck speeding towards him.
…………..
Sitting in the green class cabin of a late-night shinkansen, Tsubasa looked back on the events of this trip. He had hoped to clear his mind but ended up clearing much more. Questions were answered but he had paid an incredible price for them. He paid for them with his heart and soul.
When the emotionally drained man finally awoke from his doze, the train was still speeding soundlessly through the night. Like before, the cabin remained almost empty, except for the passenger next to him. Not wanting to start a mindless and ultimately frivolous conversation, Tsubasa was careful to avoid eye contact.
Despite his outward disinterest, he closely observed his companion from the corner of his eyes. According to his peripheral vision, this fellow passenger was quite striking. Blessed with a proud and prominent nose, finely moulded chin, long lashes and hair of web-like softness, he must be a surpassing sight to behold.
For the next few stops, Tsubasa succeeded in his restraint but with every passing town his resolve weakened. The stranger, who had chosen to sit beside him in spite of the almost vacant cabin, arrested his consciousness. He was all that he could think of. Finally, he braced himself and turned to face him.
But there was no one! There was no one there!
Flustered, Tsubasa got up from his seat and looked around frantically. The whole cabin was empty, except for himself. He was alone. But he swore the gentleman was there. He was just next to him, a second ago. Tingling with fear and skin crawling with goose bumps, Tsubasa descended with dread back into his seat.
‘The photo frame,’ he voiced, suddenly remembering that the item was no longer on his lap.
It was on the seat next to him.
………….
It was in the wee hours of a Sunday morning when Tsubasa arrived back in Tokyo. The autumn air was chilly and everyone around him had shrunk into their overcoat. Unlike his compatriots, Tsubasa dangled his left hands resolutely in the blowing wind. But it didn’t feel cold. It felt warm, cupped in love.
That early dawn, Tsubasa crawled into bed exhausted but happy. He felt like he had finally come to the end of a very long rollercoaster ride. He tucked himself snuggly under covers on the left side of bed, a habit he adhered to even when sleeping alone. But he knew that he would no longer be sleeping alone. Maybe all this time, he never did. Before he closed his eyes, he said something he hadn’t for the longest time - ‘You can kiss me.’
…………..
‘Takki.’
‘Takki?’ Angela echoed, rousing awake the sleeping figure.
Tsubasa rubbed his eyes in disbelief. But there was no mistake. It was Angela, his fiancée.
‘I brought you breakfast in bed. Actually, it’s more like lunch in bed.’ The sweet girl with large, dewy eyes gestured to the curry rice that his father had prepared. ‘I hate to wake you. But it’s noon already.’
Laying the tray in front of him, she commented, ‘You must have slept very well. You were smiling.’
It was an innocent remark. But Tsubasa lowered his head in guilt.
‘What’s that?’ He asked pointing to a luminous object on the tray.
‘I found this hanging on your door outside. Isn’t it yours?’
Angela picked up the cross carefully as if it was something very precious and handed it over to Tsubasa.
Takki! Takki’s cross! Tsubasa remembered it well. Takki was always wearing it. It was a gift from his beloved grandmother. Before his family left for Tokyo, Tsubasa had wanted to ask for it as a parting gift from Takki. He wanted something to remember him by. But he never did ask.
When Angela saw Tsubasa looking at the cross in a daze, she offered, ‘I’ll help you put it on.’
Seeing the cross shine on Tsubasa’s chest above his heart, she asked, ‘I wonder if there’s still a place in there for me?’
Her question surprised Tsubasa. He hadn’t thought that they could be possible again.
‘I know I betrayed you. But you betrayed me too.’ Angela looked away for a moment, her dewy eyes turning even more liquid. ‘I don’t deny that I loved Tatsumi. But I loved you too. I mean, I still do.’
Listening intently, Tsubasa struggled to hold back impending tears.
With her back against him, she confessed, ‘I tried to forget you, forget us. I wanted to start anew. But the harder I tried, the more I remembered. Silly, isn’t it?’
A sigh followed, soft and sad, so sorrowful that Tsubasa's heart went out to her and his arms rushed to enfolded her tightly.
‘Is there’s still hope for us?’ Angela whispered.
Tsubasa knew deep down that he could never hate her. Their long history of companionship and comfort was something nothing could ever tarnish. But he hadn’t expected that she could ever forgive him. After all, he was the first to let their hands go.
As Tsubasa felt Angela lay her cheeks against his chest, her tears staining the cross, he muttered softly, ‘In my heart, there has always been a special place for you. You've never left.’
Angela smiled. Tsubasa’s assurance was consoling to her ears. But at the same time, it felt distant to her heart, like it was meant for someone else. Nevertheless, she was happy. Tsubasa’s heart might be a little confused and crowded but she knew that by his side, there was only her. And this time, she promised herself that she would always be by his side.
End
Thank you for reading. Rewards with a love that never dies:
Note:
Pairing: Tsubami, TsubaOC and TakiTsuba
Genre: AU, angst, fluff, horror, mystery and romance
Rating: NC17 (for horror elements)
Summary: A trip back to his hometown uncovers painful old wounds. But Tsubasa learns that sometimes you have to surface them to heal them.
Disclaimer: It's a painful truth, but I don't own the boys.
Note: For Imai Julia, who thinks I can take a stab at horror. Thank you.
Part 1/3: Things You Don’t See
Part 2/3: Betrayal from the Grave
The Cross on My Heart
It was a long drive back to Shonan, his hometown. But Tsubasa didn't mind. He needed the break.
'I don't know what's troubling you, son. And I don’t wanna push you. I just want you to know that when you're ready to share, I'm all ears.'
'I know. Thank you.'
'You know what? You could take a break in the country. The country air might clear your mind a bit.'
Like an obedient son, Tsubasa agreed. After selling off his place and ending Tatsumi's lease, Tsubasa moved in to live with his father. The huge mansion that once seemed bleak and dreary after his mother's death, was beginning to feel surprisingly homely again. Although their interaction remained mostly silence peppered with occasional awkward comments on how the stock market was performing, Tsubasa was slowly warming up to his father. They had even begun a nightly ritual of sharing sake before bed. In those quiet moments, it would be far-fetched to say that it felt like family again. But his father was at least beginning to feel like a kindred soul.
Pain was their bond. But Tsubasa's cut deeper. He would never know if his lover and half brother, who had betrayed him and used him, ever really loved him.
On very next weekend, Tsubasa set off for some mind-clearing country air.
Hours of long drive down the dusty road finally carried him back to a time more innocent. Getting out of his convertible, Tsubasa carelessly combed back his wind-ravished hair with his fingers, then sashayed down the walkway into the arms of a hot mama waiting for him. In the evening sun, his childhood home was basking with a faint glow, even was the footpath was gleaming. It was like walking into a dream where all troubles melt away. And when his 92 year-old granny's arms wrapped lovingly around him, it truly felt like heaven.
Being home again was like reliving his childhood. He was once again Little Errand Boy. To welcome him home, his grandmother had ordered the maid to cook ridiculous amount of food, enough to feed a small army; and he was once again tasked to share them all around the neighourhood. And once again, he was exposed to a barrage of molest by an assortment of obasans. They used to shower kisses on him when he was little because he resembled Actor Oda Yuji, a major heart-throb. Now that he was all grown up and oozing manliness, it was double the sex appeal. He even had to flee out of a neighbour's clinging onto his half-unzipped pants.
But nothing was quite as traumatic as having to enter the Takizawa's.
............
The stately home was much changed. It was akin to waking from an opium-laden fantasy to the harsh bitterness of reality. What used to be white-washed walls were now grey and dull. Once large, lofty windows now only seemed like vacant, sorrowful eyes. The lush garden too was no longer, overrun by weeds, decay and neglect. The interior was a further depression of the soul. Dark draperies hung from the ceiling, as if to shut the lights out. And what little feeble lights that seeped through indicated that the profuse furniture, though familiar, were now all comfortless, antique and tattered.
Takizawa Senior smiled a bittersweet smile when he received the bento sets. For a moment, his tired eyes flickered. He tapped Tsubasa's shoulders lightly, then held onto them weakly, saying, 'You've grown up real well.'
While he was talking, Mrs Takizawa stepped in. She passed slowly through a remote part of the living room, not noticing his presence.
'What about Takki? Did he grow up real well too?'
Tsubasa didn't know what made him say that - the very things he had forbidden himself to think about. He hated Takki.
It was then Mrs Takizawa stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and gazed mournfully in his direction, before burying her pale face into her hands. Those bony shrunken hands looked like they had once held too many passionate tears.
...........
Sitting in Takki's room, Tsubasa wanted to die there. How could he? How could he tear up her old wounds that had yet to heal? How could he? But he didn't know. He didn't know that Takki was dead.
...........
'Why are you crying?'
Little Tsubasa looked away and bit his lips to stop the tears. Ignoring the snub, the intruder sat down next to him, a little apart. Like a statue, he waited. Finally, Tsubasa answered, 'My parents're supposed to pick me up but they're not here yet.'
Little Takki looked around. It was getting late and the school was nearly empty. He had stayed behind because his teacher had made him assistant theatre director to the school's upcoming play and there was always much planning to do.
'I'll wait with you.'
'Aren't your parents picking you up soon?'
'No, I go home on my own.'
'That's very grown up,' Tsubasa remarked, thoroughly impressed.
'Nay, my parents are just too busy,' Takki shrugged, a little crestfallen. 'Let's wait together then.'
'You can leave if it gets too late or dark.'
'No, I'll stay here, right here by your side,' Takki beamed.
.................
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. After the incident, the two young boys became fast friends. Not only did they go to the same school, they lived in the same neighbourhood. It soon became a norm for Tsubasa’s mom to send one boy to school but bring two home. The boys would have a quick lunch then run off to Takki’s home.
Takki’s home had many things Tsubasa’s didn’t. It had a generous backyard, where Tsubasa taught Takki how to play baseball and the younger boy taught him how to play the kendama. In Takki’s room, there was a western-styled bed, where they bounced on until they collapsed in giddiness; and where Takki practiced wrestling moves on him. In the bathroom, there was a large bathtub, where they would float rubber duckies or simply soak in the warm, calming water. Best of all, there was no adult; there was only the two of them.
…………..
‘What was that?’ Tsubasa asked, rudely startled from his snooze in the bath.
Takki only looked on dumbly.
‘What did you just do?’ Tsubasa interrogated again, wetting his palm then vigorously wiping his lips with them. ‘Did you just kiss me?’
‘I thought you were okay with it,’ Takki defended earnestly. ‘You didn’t object the last time.’
‘The last time?! When was it?!’
‘Last night.’
‘Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t object because I was sleeping?!’
Takki turned away red-faced, pouting enough for the whole contingent of Miss Universe contestants.
‘Fine. I’ll never kiss you again,’ the scorned boy retorted.
It didn’t take Tsubasa long to regret his rejection. When his best friend ignored him for the rest of the day, Tsubasa realized that being sexually harassed by Takki was a small price to pay for the company of a dear friend.
In the evening, when Tsubasa’s father came to fetch him home, the offender planted himself nervously in front of Takki. Restless and fidgety, he mumbled, ‘You can kiss me’, pecked the still pouting lips, then dashed through the gates.
From that day on, Takki’s home had taken a new attraction for Tsubasa. It wasn’t just a place for them to play to their hearts’ content; it had become a place where they could be free. It was a place where they could run around naked, hug, kiss and touch each other in places where adults would disapprove.
……………
Sitting on Takki’s bed after all these years, it suddenly looked so small. The bed where they had countless sleepovers, where they shared their dreams of becoming a baseball celeb and a wrestling star, where they melted contentedly into each other, now looked too tiny to ever have contained so much joy. It had also lost its bounce. Sinking into the sluggish mattress, Tsubasa felt as if his heart sank too. But news of Takki’s death had yet to fully sink in. It floated above the thin line between denial and reality.
Everything else was unchanged - the childish furniture, posters on the wall, comics on the shelf, the stuffed Mickey and Minnie Mouse on the bed; everything was still there. Tsubasa couldn’t believe that Takki wasn’t there too, that he wasn’t about to step into the room any minute now.
But Takki didn’t come, even after he cried his eyes swollen, even after he soaked Mickey with torrent of tears, or even after wailed his throat hoarse. Now, there wasn’t the two of them anymore, it was only him and nothing more.
Late that evening, as he was about to leave for the cemetery, Mrs Takizawa stopped him at the door. With cold, limp hands, she gave him a photo frame. Inside was a smiling picture of him and Takki.
‘This is Takki’s favourite photo. I can see why. Because you’re in it,’ she explained as she lightly fingered the contours of her son’s face. ‘I wasn’t there for him. And I only realised what I lost when he died. Thank you for loving him for me. You’ve made him so happy.’ Mrs Takizawa forced a weak smile and continued, ‘Seeing you here today, it suddenly hit me that so much time had passed. Too much time lost, lost in grief. Maybe it’s time that I step out of it.’ Embracing Tsubasa gently but firmly, she said, ‘Thank you for coming.’
……………
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am in the stars that shine.
I am in the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
The words on Takki’s tombstone pierced Tsubasa. But it didn’t hurt. And he didn’t cry. Because he didn’t have any tears left. He had already been emptied, like a hollow, soulless walking zombie. Nobody or nothing could hurt him anymore because he too had died.
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry for forgetting you, for forcing myself to forget you. When you didn’t send me off, I thought that you had forgotten. I thought you didn’t care. And then you didn’t write or call at all.’
Caressing the tombstone lovingly, Tsubasa sighed, ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know that you couldn’t.’
…………..
Takki had promised Tsubasa that he would send him off that morning. But the little boy had spent all night crying and overslept. By the time he had blazed down the street in his pajamas and caught sight of Tsubasa Senior’s car, it was already about to disappear out of sight. No matter how lightning fast he ran, his short legs were no match for petrol-fuelled machinery.
The back of that cold, hard ton of steel was the last thing the running and shouting boy saw. Blinded to everything else, he didn’t see the truck speeding towards him.
…………..
Sitting in the green class cabin of a late-night shinkansen, Tsubasa looked back on the events of this trip. He had hoped to clear his mind but ended up clearing much more. Questions were answered but he had paid an incredible price for them. He paid for them with his heart and soul.
When the emotionally drained man finally awoke from his doze, the train was still speeding soundlessly through the night. Like before, the cabin remained almost empty, except for the passenger next to him. Not wanting to start a mindless and ultimately frivolous conversation, Tsubasa was careful to avoid eye contact.
Despite his outward disinterest, he closely observed his companion from the corner of his eyes. According to his peripheral vision, this fellow passenger was quite striking. Blessed with a proud and prominent nose, finely moulded chin, long lashes and hair of web-like softness, he must be a surpassing sight to behold.
For the next few stops, Tsubasa succeeded in his restraint but with every passing town his resolve weakened. The stranger, who had chosen to sit beside him in spite of the almost vacant cabin, arrested his consciousness. He was all that he could think of. Finally, he braced himself and turned to face him.
But there was no one! There was no one there!
Flustered, Tsubasa got up from his seat and looked around frantically. The whole cabin was empty, except for himself. He was alone. But he swore the gentleman was there. He was just next to him, a second ago. Tingling with fear and skin crawling with goose bumps, Tsubasa descended with dread back into his seat.
‘The photo frame,’ he voiced, suddenly remembering that the item was no longer on his lap.
It was on the seat next to him.
………….
It was in the wee hours of a Sunday morning when Tsubasa arrived back in Tokyo. The autumn air was chilly and everyone around him had shrunk into their overcoat. Unlike his compatriots, Tsubasa dangled his left hands resolutely in the blowing wind. But it didn’t feel cold. It felt warm, cupped in love.
That early dawn, Tsubasa crawled into bed exhausted but happy. He felt like he had finally come to the end of a very long rollercoaster ride. He tucked himself snuggly under covers on the left side of bed, a habit he adhered to even when sleeping alone. But he knew that he would no longer be sleeping alone. Maybe all this time, he never did. Before he closed his eyes, he said something he hadn’t for the longest time - ‘You can kiss me.’
…………..
‘Takki.’
‘Takki?’ Angela echoed, rousing awake the sleeping figure.
Tsubasa rubbed his eyes in disbelief. But there was no mistake. It was Angela, his fiancée.
‘I brought you breakfast in bed. Actually, it’s more like lunch in bed.’ The sweet girl with large, dewy eyes gestured to the curry rice that his father had prepared. ‘I hate to wake you. But it’s noon already.’
Laying the tray in front of him, she commented, ‘You must have slept very well. You were smiling.’
It was an innocent remark. But Tsubasa lowered his head in guilt.
‘What’s that?’ He asked pointing to a luminous object on the tray.
‘I found this hanging on your door outside. Isn’t it yours?’
Angela picked up the cross carefully as if it was something very precious and handed it over to Tsubasa.
Takki! Takki’s cross! Tsubasa remembered it well. Takki was always wearing it. It was a gift from his beloved grandmother. Before his family left for Tokyo, Tsubasa had wanted to ask for it as a parting gift from Takki. He wanted something to remember him by. But he never did ask.
When Angela saw Tsubasa looking at the cross in a daze, she offered, ‘I’ll help you put it on.’
Seeing the cross shine on Tsubasa’s chest above his heart, she asked, ‘I wonder if there’s still a place in there for me?’
Her question surprised Tsubasa. He hadn’t thought that they could be possible again.
‘I know I betrayed you. But you betrayed me too.’ Angela looked away for a moment, her dewy eyes turning even more liquid. ‘I don’t deny that I loved Tatsumi. But I loved you too. I mean, I still do.’
Listening intently, Tsubasa struggled to hold back impending tears.
With her back against him, she confessed, ‘I tried to forget you, forget us. I wanted to start anew. But the harder I tried, the more I remembered. Silly, isn’t it?’
A sigh followed, soft and sad, so sorrowful that Tsubasa's heart went out to her and his arms rushed to enfolded her tightly.
‘Is there’s still hope for us?’ Angela whispered.
Tsubasa knew deep down that he could never hate her. Their long history of companionship and comfort was something nothing could ever tarnish. But he hadn’t expected that she could ever forgive him. After all, he was the first to let their hands go.
As Tsubasa felt Angela lay her cheeks against his chest, her tears staining the cross, he muttered softly, ‘In my heart, there has always been a special place for you. You've never left.’
Angela smiled. Tsubasa’s assurance was consoling to her ears. But at the same time, it felt distant to her heart, like it was meant for someone else. Nevertheless, she was happy. Tsubasa’s heart might be a little confused and crowded but she knew that by his side, there was only her. And this time, she promised herself that she would always be by his side.
End
Thank you for reading. Rewards with a love that never dies:
Note:
- The poem is, Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye.
- Wanna see the likeness of Tsubasa and Oda Yuji? Click here for the Music Station video of Tsubasa lamenting to Oda-san (with Chinese subs) about how he was hugged and kissed by obasans because of their likeness. Or go to 03:02 to see them both facing straight at the camera.
- Pics are from scans in Google search.