Chapter Text
P R O L O G U E
.
My chest is tight.
Breaths laboured, I groan when I feel her long strands of hair fall over my face. Trickling black ink, grazes against my cheeks. Her breath against my skin makes me shiver. Her kind, pained eyes are vivid, muddling my thoughts. Her feverish lips cluster kisses down my collarbone. I recoil, but I hold her closer. I straddle her and she lets out a broken cry. We tumble over the tangled sheets, bodies desperately harmonising against each other to make a complete, sounding melody.
I stir awake.
My heart is pounding and tears are glazing my vision. I half expect myself to be in my old home, looking across my bed to see my old, emerald green school uniform. However, all I see are my bookshelves that are crowded with a library of CDs and records, positioned in alphabetical order.
Turning to my side, I watch her clip back on her white, laced bra. Her hair isn't black, but cropped short and copper. She's not the girl in my mind. This woman's my pattern, my routine. We keep each other company; we'd warm each other's beds. She knows how to satisfy my needs; and I know how to drown her in desire. We talk about nothing; we talk about everything.
That's how it's always been between us. A relationship driven by lust and not love. And I was fine with it. We both were.
She cranes her neck towards my direction, offering me a brisk smile. "You had a dream about her. It's been awhile since you have."
"Who?" I croak out, sitting up. I rub my eyes, but even though I vaguely remember the dream, I know who she is talking about. I take a stab at it and guess, "Kaori?"
"Yeah."
"Oh," I reply, softly not knowing what else to say.
I watch as she lifts the maroon sweater over her head, smoothing it down and covering her body. When she's about to shimmy into the pair of leather black pants I had peeled off her last night, I reach over for my pack of cigarettes. Lighting one up, I lean against the bed head, inhaling and deeply exhaling.
She falters by the door before she leaves. "We-I-I'm sorry. Yamato, this will probably be the last time."
"Jun...I know," I say, trying to act fine about it. I'm lying and we both know it. I force out a dry chuckle, "Since when have we been serious together anyway?"
From Jun’s end, I knew she had once wanted more. I had denied her that, and instead my younger self would persuade her into bed we’d sleep together. A distraction from a distraction. I had felt the hesitation in her movements, the confusion, but at the same time, the familiar comfort. She had wanted to stop, but her body was used to me and I was in a cruel mood. I knew her weak spots, the places that made her beg for more, and what made her giggle and laugh whenever we'd get into a heated frenzy. Now, this will forever end.
"We're still friends though, right?" Her shoulders are drooping as she gazes at me.
Of course we'll be. However, it won't be the same…
I nod anyway, taking another puff.
You could say this is like a break-up, but it really isn't.
Perhaps I had fallen for Jun at some point during our deal, but even I knew it wasn't possible for something to ever bud between us. We had negotiated with each other, and I knew she had broken the agreement. She had found someone else anyway...and I knew at some point this was going to happen for her. It's cruel being with somebody like me anyway.
"Are you coming out of the closet, or have you got someone else now?" I plainly ask her.
"Both."
"Good," I comment.
She pauses, raising an eyebrow at me. "How did you know?"
''By now you would have either fallen for me or rattled on about commitment," I tell her. "No girl wants to keep a pattern like this going."
"I'm no ordinary girl."
I state, smirking, "That's because you're bi."
"A lesbian now," Jun corrects me, matter-of-factly.
It's not that I'm bitter about it. I'm dejected that it's over, but I wasn't going to get angry because I always knew that, at some point, this was bound to happen. It had taken me some time, but I had eventually pieced together Jun's orientation and that this separation would be inevitable. However, I didn't think it would be this soon.
"My penis must have converted you. I curse it to hell." I grumble, pointing at the lump under the sheets.
Jun scoffs and rolls her eyes at me, "Well, aren't you the romantic."
"Honey, you know I'm great." I casually shrug.
I look back up at her to watch her break into laughter. I find myself laughing along with her.
When the laughter subsides, I say, "Introduce me to her. I'd like to see the woman who triumphed over me."
"Sure Yama. I'll let her know." Jun says.
I grumble, "And now I need to find your replacement."
Jun snorts back, "I'm sure any woman would be proud to sacrifice themselves to you."
"It won't be the same," I admit.
Although I know she's right about finding another woman to keep me company, they won't be able to replace Jun's uncanny sense of humour. We connected. We got along well and she knew things about me that I didn't even know. Sometimes I even felt closer to her than my best friend, Taichi.
She trails back towards the bed and plants a parting kiss on my forehead. "I hope you find what you're looking for too. I hope you find your special somebody, Yamato."
Her last line stays with me as she leaves my apartment. I gaze up at the white ceiling, my back sliding down onto the mattress. I stub the cigarette and let out a deep sigh.
Me? Find my own special somebody?
The thought seems formidable and unreachable. Why would I want that? I have everything I want.
My dream of becoming a successful musician had come true. People who hadn't believed in me had to swallow back their words when they saw my face on the billboards and music shows, and hearing my band through the speakers in public. I had worked hard to achieve this. They hadn't thought that I'd make it this far.
But I had.
So, tell me, why would I want another person in my life? I already vowed to myself that I would not let this happen; to never give my heart to a woman. Why would I be a fool and trade this life that I have, for a mere somebody?
Despite everything I've said, I have tried it before. I had tossed everything aside for a person...only to watch it self destruct and fail. She was the one who had thrown me away.
And I won't let it happen again.
Ever.
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"You gotta swim, swim in the dark. There's no shame in drifting, feel the tide shifting and wait for the spark."
Swim - Jack's Mannequin
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CHAPTER ONE: A Fiery Spark
Strumming the guitar, I absentmindedly hum an obscure melody.
None of the songs are certain or clear. They're made up melodies merging from one song to the other. A listless series of unknown, forgetful tunes.
The window is half open. A soft breeze floats in and lightly nudges at the neglected, scrunched up papers of sheet music, scattered around me.
I don't know how long I've been sitting here. My legs are stretched, minimally splayed out on the tatami flooring, and my back is resting against one wall adjacent to the window. On my right, my grandparent's dog has made himself comfortable. Paws touching my leg, and head down, having fallen asleep while I had been playing for, what seems to be hours.
I glance at my wristwatch. Yeah...it's nearing five hours straight since I've been caved inside this room.
Even on annual leave, I'm subconsciously still working.
When I get into one of these moods, sometimes I'm the most creative. They're my low points, my low moments that catch up with me at least twice a year. It's a combination of feeling lost, misdirected, unsettled, frustrated...almost even melancholy. I have ways around these moods. I have sex (too bad Jun's turned gay on me...I haven't had a root for two months), I work my ass off, I soak my body in a private onsen, or I retract myself and hide from everybody.
Needless to say, whenever all these options are denied, sometimes I say and do things to my close friends, that are stupid, coming off as rude and even downright mean.
My manager must have sensed my despondent presence in the studio because he had forced me to go on leave. "I don't care where you go, Ishida. You need a holiday. You've accumulated too much leave that if you don't take any time off right now, the company will have to pay you out instead."
So I had taken three weeks off.
I had filled up my backpack with clothing, pocketed a packet of cigarettes, lighter and my wallet into my leather jacket. Then out of the big city, I drove away on my motorbike.
It hadn't been a completely aimless drive because after a day of making intermittent stops on the road, I found myself in the familiar region of Shimane.
'Promise me that you'll visit your grandparents when I pass away.'
Maybe I had been in the mood to fulfill my father's wishes, as I had driven to the ryokan a day later - my grandparents’ ryokan.
Originally my grandfather was a chef at the ryokan, having worked there since he was a teen. When the owner passed away, he handed it to him. So now my grandparents are keeping this old accommodation nice and intact. I like staying at the ryokan because I get free accommodation, delicious food and my grandparents sweet company. I don't praise myself as a promise keeper all the time, but when my dad had mentioned he wanted me to drop by and check on the grandparents here and there...I couldn't help but oblige.
After all, I've grown quite fond of Shimane. My father's hometown is quiet, but it has a familiar vibe and is comfortable to be in.
Like how I've been staying in his room…
Perhaps what I really needed was a break; but also to visit my father.
The acoustic guitar that's currently laying on my lap once belonged to him. I had stumbled across it and, immediately, I wanted to play it. Seeing my father's guitar made my fingers itch to pluck its strings. The rest was history from there, and I hadn't stopped playing, until now...
In an attempt to not wake the dog up, I carefully lift the guitar from my lap and slide it back into its casing.
"Yamato-kun?" My grandmother's frail voice calls out.
She's cute. I'm already thirty and she's still using the childish honorific 'kun' after my name.
"Hmm?"
"It's dinner time."
I smile, getting up onto my feet. My face contorts in pain when my left leg cramps up, but after shaking it around, I feel the circulation come back.
Waddling over to the other side of the room, I push the door open, grinning when I see my grandmother waiting by the room. Wrinkles crease around her eyes as she smiles at me, which is something common for her - even prior to her aging - since she is always smiling. I don't find many things cute, but I can definitely say my grandmother is the definition of it. She was a looker when she was younger. My grandfather never ceases to tell me this.
Putting an arm around her, I support her as she guides me to the dining area. "What delicious food have you prepared for me this time, grandma?"
"Only the best." She cackles, "Since you'll be going home this evening, I've made all your favourites."
"Everything you make is great," I compliment her.
"Don't need to flatter me. Sometimes you're worse than Takeru." She laughs, but in her eyes I know she's loving the compliments I'm showering her with. "Anyway, Yamato-kun, I bet you're excited about abandoning us again."
I tell her, "I didn't abandon you. You and grandpa are my first preference, even above my friends."
"Liar." My grandfather lets out a loud, burly chuckle. He puts a hand on my back as I take a seat beside him.
I smirk, clapping my hands together. "Itadakimasu!"
My grandparents laugh. I smile, digging in like the foolish grandchild I must seem to them. I'll miss this. Having home-cooked meals for the past three weeks has been a darn privilege. Ever since my parents divorced, sitting at a table for dinner is something that I'm no longer accustomed to. When living with dad, it was either I was never home or he was out working. Our schedules always clashed, and it became much worse when the band had made it big. Instead of a father-son relationship, sometimes it felt like I was living with a roommate - two single and hopeless bachelors that couldn't do anything right. That was us.
After the divorce, my dad never cared for himself properly. He prioritised work, and would smoke like a chimney. He was a mess. His health immediately deteriorated. And, sometimes, I felt like I was more the adult in our relationship than he was.
As things got more hectic with the band, I wasn't able to visit home more often. Because of this, I still feel guilty. If I had known my father skipped his yearly medical check-ups, if I had known he wasn't eating, if I had known earlier...then perhaps we could have caught onto the cancer during its early stages before discovering it at its last stage.
I know I shouldn't be blaming myself. Everybody tells me it's not my fault - but I was the only one closest to dad, and I can't help but blame myself for it. He had nobody else but me, and I had failed him.
Life doesn't let you sit around and mope. You need to drag yourself up sometimes. Life keeps going and despite the pressure around you, you've got to swim forward - even when it hurts like fuck. Trust me, I've learnt it the hard way.
Finishing my meal, I down a couple cups of green tea. Leaning back, I pat my bulging stomach.
"Gochisousama."
Despite having finished my meal, I don't make an effort to move because I know that once I get up, I'll have to leave and head back home. I kind of regret not thinking through my trip to my grandparents' place properly because then I could have taken transport and not worried about the motorbike ride home. However, I'll still be stopping over at places over the next two nights, but the thought of driving for many hours is painful and not the least motivating at all.
"Wait a minute." My grandmother tells me. I watch her disappear from the dining area and then return with a wooden bento box wrapped up in floral sakura-print material. "For your friend. He likes these, doesn't he?"
I say, "And I thought they were for me."
"For you too. Give some to Takeru as well. He likes ohagi. Just make sure you leave some for your friend. You know...the one with the bushy hair?"
"Taichi?" I laugh, guessing it's my best friend she's referring to. It's not hard when not everybody's hair is described as 'bushy'.
"Yes, that boy!"
Ever since that one summer I had made Taichi accompany me to Shimane as a teen, he had grown fond of my grandparents (and their food), constantly pestering me about giving him the homemade treats whenever I'd see them. I hadn't even reminded my grandmother this time, but she had made the delicacies for Taichi regardless.
Obtaining my belongings, I head out of the house and get onto the motorbike. At the ryokan's entrance, my grandparents are seeing me off. My grandfather teases me, "Send us an invitation to your wedding soon, Yamato-kun!"
I snort. "I need a girlfriend to even make that happen."
It's an ongoing joke between my grandfather and I. Ever since Takeru had gotten married, my grandfather loved to nag me about hurrying up to find a woman soon. He describes love like a ticking bomb, saying that 'all the good ones' will be snatched away if I don't make a move any time soon.
I know my grandfather's joking, but you know when some jokes are based on a degree of truth...well, I definitely know my grandfather wants me to find somebody. He's like my mother whenever it comes to things like these, but his manner is less argumentative.
My grandmother tries to convince me to stay another night as it's already dark. I tell her that I really have to go, much to her disapproval. She, instead, makes me swear to visit them in a few months before she finally permits me to leave.
"Bye!" I yell as I start the engine.
I wave while reversing out of the driveway and half an hour later, I'm driving out of the quaint neighbourhood.
I like driving at night time. The streets are less busy, meaning there isn't peak hour or annoying traffic. I can cruise down the roads without pressing on the brakes, making the drive smoother.
The humming and vibrating from the engine, sounds like a voice chanting to a rhythmic song. It's sedating to listen to. I lean forward, repositioning myself as I delve further out of the small town and into a sea of rural darkness.
After approximately four hours of straight driving, I check into a Kyoto business hotel right before midnight. There must be some festival going on because the rates are more expensive than usual, and there's a truckload of couples and families still roaming the streets. I hit the sheets and immediately fall asleep.
The next morning, I'm up early and exploring Kyoto. I visit Kiyomizu-dera, purchasing a business lucky charm for Koushiro's upcoming hospital system launch, and a few health and safety charms for my younger brother, Takeru, and his family.
I hit the road again, and decide that my final stop over will be by a cheap hotel near Kawaguchiko Lake. I have breakfast by the lake, marvelling at the view of Mt. Fuji. It's pleasant seeing a stretch of water and nature.
Often, I feel suffocated by all the skyscrapers in Tokyo. Sometimes it's nice to get out to take a fresh breath of air. If you had asked me this in my early twenties or when I was teen that I'd be like this, I'd probably stick my middle finger at myself. There's things you discover about yourself, the older you get I guess. I feel like you begin to appreciate things more...
Boy, dad would have laughed at me if he saw me like this.
I stretch, feeling the chilly morning breeze against my skin. Since I'm here, I choose to stay by the lake a bit longer so that I can roam around the area. I end up spending the whole day by the lake, wandering aimlessly around, hiking, and clearing my thoughts.
By dinner time, I'm bored out of my mind. At least, back in Shimane, I had my grandparents to bother, and being by myself without an instrument or something to work on is leaving me restless. I'm always used to doing something that my body doesn't know how to cope whenever I have 'free' time.
Picking a local restaurant, I resort to ordering a bowl of ramen. I'll be going back to Tokyo after this.
I check my phone while I eat.
You know your life sucks when you only receive a text from your best friend all day - and it's not even a text. Taichi has sent me a photo of Heathrow Airport (or what I can gather from reading the English characters).
The idiot is coming back to Japan from London. I send him back a photo of my one lonely bowl of ramen.
.
.
'Knife of Ramen?' Is his reply.
I respond back, 'One more joke about KOD and I won't give you your omiyage from Shimane."
Taichi: OHAGI?
Me: We do a trade. Give me a decent souvenir from London, then 'perhaps' I'll give you some of my grandmother's food.
Taichi: Just give it all to me. Deal?
Me: No deal.
Taichi: Great, I'll see you when I get back. I miss you Yama baby *heart emoji*
Me: Go fuck yourself.
Taichi: *heart emoji*
.
I chuckle to myself. Even though I have been feeling shit, Taichi's good at making me feel less grouchy.
The chuckle earns a few people to stare at me. "Is that Ishida Yamato?" It is then followed by whispers of excitement, and it's then I know that I've been spotted and I've lingered too long in one area. Gone are the days when I could eat a simple bowl of ramen without being ogled at. Once you become a celebrity, you are perceived differently. It's inevitable. I'm usually pretty good at concealing myself from people, but I'm still human - even I can't eat without taking my mask off.
I place the exact amount of cash onto the counter before making an escape from the fans.
Mounting onto my bike, I'm relieved that the GPS shows the drive from Kawaguchiko Lake will take less longer home than expected. That's why it's sometimes a better idea to drive at night. Getting back to my place and sleeping in my own bed sounds exciting. The thought gives me the extra energy to ride on.
It's a struggle, but I'm finally at my journey's end.
Everything begins to look familiar, the streets are more busy with people, buildings are getting taller and looming over me, and the lights are more brighter, lighting up the night sky.
An unsettling feeling of weariness topples over me.
Now that I'm back, I'll be going back to my regular routine. Work, eat, breathe, and forced social interactions. It will be back to normal. And, with everything combined, an unclear future. By now, you'd think I'd have my life sorted. I mean, I have everything I want, or could possibly ask for. But something is lacking; and it irritates me.
My mind is calmer, but my heart feels heavy as I delve further into Tokyo.
It's when I'm minutes away, I see a figure swagger onto the road. The hairs on my back stand up. Perhaps I've been watching too many horror movies lately, but the figure isn't even walking to the other side of the road - it's just standing there as I approach it.
What the…?
I press hard against the brakes and, from the impact, I'm surprised that I'm not thrown off my bike. I'm actually surprised that the bike hasn't flipped over. If I hadn't been paying attention, I would have been a split second from killing the person.
Cursing under my breath, I heave for air, gasping in a cold sweat as I glare at the woman in front of me.
From the bike's headlights, she looks around my age. Her hair is auburn, cropped short and her lipstick is stained in wine red. She contrasts against the night, her fiery specs of red in her appearance, sparking against the darkness.
Inches away from home and I have to bump into a lunatic!
She's haggard-looking, with half her cardigan hanging off her shoulders. Her cheeks are a touch of pink, while her brown eyes are dilated and wide. The crazy woman must be high, or has had too much alcohol. Why had she intentionally run in front of my motorbike? What is she thinking?
It's infuriating; she's infuriating.
Shouldn't she be acting her age, and not all disorderly? Sure, she can do whatever she wants in her own house, or within a safe environment, but she shouldn't be running out in public and onto the street like some maniac. I mean, seriously, I don't want to be the one responsible for crashing into her and paying a hefty hospital bill!
"Do you have a death wish?" I start, seething inwardly as I try my best not to shout at her.
My first day back in Tokyo and I'm already raging.
Great.
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