[fic] in the past.

[tsudzukeru]

title→ in the past.
pairing(s)→ Arioka Daiki x Asaka Kodai.
prompt→ Miley Cyrus - Bottom of the Ocean (It's been in the past for a while / I get a flash and I smile / am I crazy? / still miss you baby)
summary→ I've been misplaced and put in a life that doesn't have Asaka.

notes→ ...I should start counting how many days until someone kills me for all the angst I write. XD Kinda brought on by the anniversary of HSJ's formation, I guess. Though I've had the idea for it before then. Maa, anyway! I don't know what to think of it, but I guess I like the mood. It didn't go the way I wanted it, actually, but it's decent. Miia will kill me for it if she reads it. Ecchi, you can have the boys now XDD



I blink a few times and glance down at the hand I'm holding as I walk; small, warm and so unsettlingly different that I nearly stop walking. I don't know what brought it on, but I squeeze the hand just a tiny bit tighter and look back in front of me, continuing to walk as my lips curve into a smile.

Asaka's fingers are long and slim, a slightly awkward fit for my smaller hands, but nevertheless it feels so perfect that I don't want to ever let go of his hand. Our intertwined fingers make me feel like I'm safe as long as I feel the warmth of his hand pressed against mine, the warmth of his smile as we walk side by side.

I glance down again, just for a second, and let out a tiny sigh - Chinen's hand and fingers are nothing like Asaka's.

I pull a magazine from the small pile on the table. My turn to be interviewed isn't until after a few of the other members are done, so flipping through a magazine will be entertaining enough until then. It's an old magazine, I realize, as I see Hikaru and Yabu in a Ya-Ya-yah shoot, then I flip a few pages and hear my heart pounding in my ears when I open the J.J.Express shoot. I want to close the magazine and find a way to slide it into my bag without anyone noticing, but I know I can't. I hear my name and look up at Yamada happily chitchatting about something or other I did with him to the interviewer, then I look back down at the magazine, where all our smiling faces look back up at me.

I watch Asaka's face carefully as he talks with the interviewer, laughing every once in a while. Asaka has this way of smiling and laughing where you can feel it almost floating out of him into the air around him, enough to make you smile or laugh with him. I smile as he mentions my name; both he and the interviewer glance at me, waiting for me to give a comment. I stick out my tongue at Asaka and make a comment about him in return, to which they laugh at, then the interviewer asks something else and Asaka moves onto that topic.

I settle back into watching Asaka - this is enough for me, memorizing every line of Asaka's face and how beautiful he is when he glances at me just long enough for me to notice how I'm staring at him and his face slowly turns pink, but he smiles at me and I can't help but smile back.

I like my group mates, but their presence doesn't help with Asaka's absence; none of them smile or laugh the same way Asaka does either.

I nod at the wrong moment, just obvious enough for Fujigaya-kun to stop talking and narrow his eyes slightly, asking me whether I'm listening or not. He returns to whatever he was talking about as soon as I apologize and I let his voice wash over my thoughts; he doesn't sound right. Fujigaya-kun has a pleasant voice and is easy enough to listen to, but while I had been listening, it felt like there was something wrong, something that's not the same about his voice. I watch Fujigaya-kun's face as he continues on chattering, but he looks just like he always does, there's nothing wrong except with my mind.

I nod at the wrong moment again and Fujigaya-kun stops in the middle of his story, frowning at me before telling me at least Keito knows when to nod. I laugh a little sheepishly and he continues his story, but my mind is far from him as I smile, thankfully at the right moment, because Fujigaya-kun looks very pleased that I seem to be listening properly this time.

Asaka's voice is good at betraying him. I've known this for a long time - he's not bad at hiding his feelings from his face, but his voice always has this undertone that makes it clear what he's thinking. When Inoo tells him he is wrong, he smiles but his annoyance shows through his apology. When Yuto throws a ball in his face by accident, he laughs it off but there is definitely anger in his reassurances. When I tell him I can't walk home with him, he nods nonchalantly but his disappointment is thick in his reply.

When he tells me he likes me, there is nothing for his voice to betray.

If I pretend hard enough, the way Fujigaya-kun talks faster and keeps pushing his hair away from his face when he gets excited looks just a little like Asaka. But it's held together so delicately that all it takes is one blink for me to see just Fujigaya-kun, who is clearly not Asaka.

I watch Ryutaro throw the ball to Taiga, who turns and throws it to me at the same moment I look over my shoulder. There is no one standing there, but it felt like there was a shadow hanging over me. I am brought back to reality when the ball hits my chest and I nearly stumble over my shoelaces as I take a few steps forward to catch it before it rolls away; Ryutaro complains about how I need to pay attention and Taiga squeaks his apology over and over like he's a tape stuck on repeat.

Asaka is almost always playing with the younger juniors, whether it's catch or playing pranks or teasing them about their height. I love watching him like that - he's still growing up and these kind of chances are the only ones he gets to just have fun and be a child without worrying.

But I'm not stupid - I know nobody is happy all the time and Asaka is no exception. He cries just as much as he laughs and smiles; I'm not a good senpai, the kouhai are too busy teasing me by reminding me not to get any taller because they know I won't, but I'm Asaka's safe haven, being something much more important - at least to me - than being a senpai.

Asaka murmurs something in his exhaustion-induced sleep and shifts even closer to me, letting the soft light of my lamp shine on the tears hanging on his eyelashes. I raise my hand to brush away his hair from his face and lean in to kiss his forehead.

I'm Asaka's home, someone that is a constant, someone who is there no matter what.

There's nothing missing, this is my life, but as I laugh and throw the ball back to Taiga, it feels like I'm misplaced, like someone has mixed me and a Daiki in another life and put us in the wrong lives. I've been misplaced and put in a life that doesn't have Asaka.

I open my eyes to the bright white ceiling, staring at the tiny, thin cracks. I'm tired; the past week, the past month, the past year, they've been a flurry of activities. I've barely had any time to just close my eyes and rest, just sleep away all the weariness in my body. Around me, all the other members are busy with themselves, too immersed in motion to be able to stop. I sigh and flip open my phone, going through my messages in hopes someone will mail me and give me something to do, but the only thing I find is messages I've already replied to. I pause in the middle of writing a new message, staring at the small screen for a few moments before slowly closing the cover of the cellphone and shifting to sit up, looking around the room.

I let out another sigh and lean back against the couch, pressing my fingers against my cellphone.

Inoo gives me an annoyed glance when my cellphone's message tone plays cheerfully for the sixth time that day. I smile apologetically at him and flip open my phone to quickly read the message, then bite my lower lip to keep from laughing, which just earns me another glance from Inoo. Asaka and I see each other a lot because of work, and very often outside of work, but there are many times we don't, and for those occasions, cellphones really do come in handy. Whether it's a brief 'don't forget we have work tomorrow', a subtle reminder that we'll be meeting tomorrow, or a short 'how did you do on your test today?', which makes me happy that he even remembers that I told him about this test, or sometimes nothing worth mentioning, just a random joke or a funny incident with our fellow juniors or friends. But sometimes, not very often because he's not really that romantic, he sends a message with only a heart in it. Inoo gives me another annoyed glance as I open my cellphone and check the message - now is one of those rare times. I bite my lip to keep from smiling and close the cover, sliding my cellphone back into my pocket to keep Inoo from complaining about how annoying Asaka's messages are, even though they're far from annoying for me.

I don't get many messages lately, most of them are from my mom and friends. None of them are from Asaka.

I pause as I glance over my shoulder at the glass door of the studio closing. A couple of other juniors leave behind me, waving goodbye as they go a different way than me. I wave back before looking back at the front. I've gotten used to walking home alone when the others are busy, but as I start walking towards my station, I can't help but feel lonely. I don't mind being alone, mostly because I'm not selfish enough to force someone to keep me company all the time, but sometimes I really dislike the loneliness which my music, playing at the highest volume it can go, isn't helping to chase away at all. I'm surrounded by so many people, but I'm more alone than I've ever felt in my life.

Asaka has much longer legs than I do, but somehow, we're walking at the same pace, step matched by step. He continues talking about the new CD he's going to buy, oblivious to my wide smile that has nothing to do with how cool he thinks the singer is. Asaka will probably think I'm being weird, but if it were just the two of us in this big, big planet, I wouldn't ever be lonely with him by my side.

I move with the crowd flowing into the train and sigh. Asaka isn't beside me any more.

Asaka smiles at me and I almost trip on absolutely nothing. He laughs and I shut him up by pulling him close to me. He leans in closer, an infuriating self-satisfied smirk on his lips. I can't help but laugh, looking up at him breathlessly as he smiles at me again, but when I reach up to pull him back down, he's disappeared.

I keep my eyes tightly shut, raising my hands to clutch my blanket. I have to go back to sleep. I can't wake up when I've finally seen him in my dreams, somewhere where I can keep him right with me. But the sleep is gone and I know even if I fall asleep again, there will be no Asaka in my dreams. I let go of the blanket and open my eyes, staring up through the darkness at my ceiling.

I flop down beside the CD tower of Hikaru's CDs, running my finger slowly along the spines. Hikaru was checking something on his laptop, leaving me to do as I please while I struggle to read the English names and titles of the dozens of Western music CDs Hikaru has. I like Western music myself, but I'm no match compared to Hikaru, who is thoroughly obsessed with it. I stop when I see our own singles, lined up proudly with the other CDs, and I slowly pull out the Ultra Music Power single. Hikaru hasn't even opened it, so the plastic wrapping is still covering the CD. As I hold it, running my fingers carefully over the plastic, I feel like I'm back in our dressing room, doing the same thing with the CD I'm handed from the staff member congratulating us on our debut. Hikaru says something and I'm brought back from my memory; I hum in agreement and place the CD back where it belongs, pushing myself up to join Hikaru.

Asaka hands me a brand new Ultra Music Power single. I haven't seen him in a while; our work has kept us apart and I haven't even had the time to reply to any of his messages, which are slowly but surely getting further and further apart. I swallow my unexplainable nervousness and take it from him, looking up at him and greeting him with the best smile I can manage. He smiles back at me and reaches out to pull me into a hug, but as I clutch his shirt and dig my fingernails into his back, I can feel the tension in his body. He pulls away and asks me to sign his single, his smile still on his lips. I learn not only Asaka's voice can betray him - so can his smile.

All it takes for me to break is to pass by the open doors of the practice room he's in. I stop right in my tracks, but he only glances at me for a split second before returning his attention to the dance instructor.

I let Asaka clutch the back of my shirt, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him even closer. He's looking for what he wants in the wrong places; I gently redirect his attention to meeting my eyes while sliding my hands over his own. He takes a moment before he looks at me with eyes filled with something I can't figure out - before I can ask him, he closes his eyes. I hug him again, hughim desperately, then I'm the one to whisper a soft “I love you” to him. He opens his eyes and meets mine, staring with the same eyes I can't read.

He doesn't say anything in return.

I take a deep breath and walk past the room without looking back. If I don't walk away now, I won't ever be able to.

I pick up the small stack of purikura photos on my table, rolling over on my bed and raising them over me. The happy faces in the tiny pictures aren't something from the present; they're from the past, so long in the past that I can't consider it anything but a memory. I lower the purikuras to my chest, closing my eyes and remembering how it felt. I had something I never knew I wanted, never thought I needed, but now that I didn't have it anymore, I didn't know how I had ever lived without it. There was nothing I could do for myself and Asaka, but as I raise the photos and look at them again, I wish there was something, anything, that I could do.

Asaka's reflection in the tiny mirror flashes as he shuts the locker door and turns to face me, his cap casting a shadow over his eyes which makes it impossible to see what he's thinking.

“I'm quitting,” Asaka says softly. My heart plummets to my feet - maybe he's just joking. This is just a bad joke. He had said he quit before, but then he came back! I open my mouth to say what I'm thinking, but he shakes his head before I can say anything. “And I won't come back, Dai-chan. I'm sorry, but I can't do it anymore.”

I close my mouth slowly - he's not talking only about the jimusho. He's talking about us. I tried so hard, I made so much time for him, but he's still talking about us. He picks up his bag and I can see a faint smile, but this smile doesn't make me smile at all like Asaka's real smile.

He walks past me and leaves the room, and I can't do anything but let him.

I raise my hand and roughly press the back of my hand against my eyes to keep the tears from falling. Asaka's smile in the purikura is true and real, and even in photos, his smile still has the ability to make me smile even when all I want to do is cry.

I didn't expect to see him. I don't know what I was thinking, but I didn't think I'd run into him even though I know this is the closest station to his home and that would increase the probability of running into him. He's leaning in boredom against the side railing of the seat, his earbuds plugged in his ears. He doesn't see me until I take the empty seat beside him and he looks over in bored curiosity, then he slowly straightens himself and raises his hands to pull the earbuds away from his ears. I nod in acknowledgment and force myself not to swallow, because I'm the older one and I shouldn't show my nervousness. He nods back but doesn't say anything otherwise, because it's obvious he doesn't know how to react at all.

“I miss you,” I say simply. The surprise in his eyes softens to something I can almost read, but he bows his head and looks away before I can do so. I wish he would let me read him.

He looks back at me after a moment and smiles. “That's what usually happens when you lose something you're used to, Dai-chan. You're old enough to get over it.”

“I didn't want to lose you,” I whisper to him, but he keeps his smile up and shakes his head. Neither of us say anything, then the train pulls into a station and Asaka pushes himself off the chair. He walks towards the doors which slide open and leaves without a single glance at me.

I get off at the next stop, even though it's not mine, and walk the rest of the way home.

I have to be the bigger one and put it behind us. I can't keep this up or else I'll go insane, glancing beside me when he isn't there and comparing everyone to him. I hadn't wanted to lose Asaka, but I did and that wasn't anyone's fault. I have to let go of him; we've both got our separate lives, lives that don't include each other, even though they once did. My memories of our time together were just that - memories, nothing more, nothing less. It had taken me longer than I wanted to realize it, but now I know there's nothing else I can do. Asaka and I had been in love and we had lost it, we had lost whatever had made us fall in love with each other, but it didn't mean it hadn't existed. Whatever we had hadn't been perfect, but it was so real and so incredibly right. I had loved him and he had loved me, but now that love was somewhere both of us couldn't find. We had nothing left but our memories of each other.

This is why I take a seat beside Asaka for the second time in two days and he does the same as he did the previous day, lowering his earbuds and meeting my eyes with his own. Asaka's never been one to tell all his feelings, but I know what he's thinking now. I know he wants it too, he wants to believe in the possibility of us getting back together, but it's not going to happen and we both know it won't.

“I miss you too,” He says after a long moment of silence.

I'm the one who smiles this time and I reach out to touch his hand, brushing my fingers against it slightly before moving it away. “That's what usually happens when you lose something you're used to, Kou-chan.”

He lets out a laugh that makes it obvious he's still younger than me and that makes it clear he really does miss me. But there's nothing left for us to go back to - our love is now in past tense, and even if we miss each other, it's like Asaka had said, it was only because we had gotten used to our presences in each other's lives. “I guess that's true.”

“The next time we meet, Kou-chan, you'll be telling me you missed me, in past tense,” I tell him in a reassuring voice as I struggle to keep myself together, struggle not to add it's like how we can say we loved each other in past tense. It's far from easy to let it go, a lot, lot harder than I expected. I want to and don't want to, all at the same time. “I didn't want to make you sad.”

“I know you didn't,” Asaka answers softly, playing with the wire of his earbuds. I don't tell him I wish he had just told me he had loved me, but I know it wouldn't have made a difference in the end, but maybe if he had, I wouldn't have made him sad and he wouldn't have quit.

His stop is coming up soon, so I know I can't tell him everything I want to tell him. I step in front of him and reach up to slide my arms around his shoulders, pulling him down closer to me, close enough to hug him tightly and close enough for him to hear my whisper. “Please be happy, Kou-chan.”

The train comes to a slow stop and I let go of him with a smile, even though he looks like he is ready to cry. He nods and slowly walks past me to exit through the sliding doors, but this time, I don't know if he looked back or not, because I don't want to be the one to keep him back when he should be leaving. I listen to the doors close, then the train slides out of the station, making it safe for me to turn around and keep my eyes on the faint, blurred colors passing by the train windows.

I take the first step out of my house, closing the door behind me and beginning to walk towards my station. I smile as I feel the warm sunlight on my bare arms, taking in a breath of the fresh air - well, as fresh as Tokyo air can get - and walking just a tiny bit faster. I look down curiously at my bag when the message tone rings cheerfully, then ruffle around my stuff to pull it out and open the cover; as soon as I see the name of the person who had sent the message, my feet stop moving on their own accord.

The message is from Asaka.

You be happy too.

I stare down at the message for a little while before I imagine Asaka's shining smile which reaches his bright eyes, which makes my own lips turn up into a smile. I type a message in reply, then close the cover of my cellphone and slip it back into my bag as I start walking again, putting the clear image of Asaka's smile somewhere safe, alongside my other memories of him. It's not so hard to breathe without him now.

Next time we meet, we'll be able to tell each other we're happy.