Work Text:
“I can‘t.“
The words left Mafuyus mouth without warning.
His band members were in the middle of a discussion about the maybe-gig Haruki just had told them about. They could play it soon, but Mafuyu just had interrupted them without even thinking about it. Without showing any emotion. It just happened.
His head had been blank until now. It was like a switch that automatically had flipped, when Haruki mentioned the date some minutes ago. The day for the gig.
This day…
He slipped absently out of the guitar strap. His knuckles whitened, because he clasped the neck of his guitar way too tightly. Mafuyu didn’t even notice. He was numb. Didn’t feel anything. Couldn’t feel anything.
Inexpressively, he walked to his guitar bag, but someone grabbed his shoulder and made him stop.
“What do you mean, you can’t? What are you doing? Work?” Uenoyama asked. He gave him a scrutinizing look and clearly showed that he didn’t like the idea that Mafuyu had plans he didn’t know about. As soon as Uenoyama looked into his face there was this small wrinkle between his eyes, telling that he was worried.
“No. I just can’t. That’s all…”, Mafuyu mumbled absently and grabbed his guitar bag. “I’m sorry. See you tomorrow.” He waved goodbye and didn’t really take note of the surprised glances of his band members.
“Uhm, okay, guess we’ll cancel it then,” he heard Haruki say in the background. “It was just an idea. We should take every chance we get to play. But sure, it’s kinda last-minute, I know. But we could think about…”
Mafuyu didn’t get the rest of the conversation. The voice seemed to be far away. Everything seemed to be far away. He felt like he was trapped inside a bubble. As if there was a wall of glass separating him from the outside world. Everything was dull and gray.
There was nothing but this number in his head. This date. It screamed at him. A strident, indicting sound.
He was cold. Freezing. His hands grabbed the straps of his guitar bag tighter. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t –
“Hey! I said wait!”
Uenoyamas voice was like a roaring whiplash. It smashed the wall of glass.
Surprised, Mafuyu stopped and blinked at him questioning.
“Hm?”
Uenoyama grabbed his shoulders. His voice was indignant when he said, “Tell me – ” He cut off, when he looked into Mafuyus eyes. “What’s wrong…?” he asked eying him seriously. He observed every inch of his face, as if he tried to find the answer in it. Suddenly, he seemed tensed.
“It’s – nothing,” Mafuyu said, because his throat tightened. He realized, that he couldn’t talk about it even if he wanted to. “It’s nothing. I just already have plans. See you tomorrow” Mafuyu smiled, because he felt like it was the appropriate thing to do. It was an empty smile.
He was about to leave, when his name suddenly echoed through the air. An unnaturally quiet sound.
“Mafuyu…”
His eyes widened, when he was pulled into a hug. It was gentle, but determinate. “Your face. You make this face again…” The words were nothing but a soft whisper and Mafuyu wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be heard by him.
There was a quiet sigh, before Uenoyama said calmly, but louder than before, “You can talk to me. You know that.”
Mayufu nodded. He returned the hug but didn’t feel it. Didn’t feel the warmth. Uenoyamas warmth. Suddenly it didn’t reach him anymore… but his boyfriend seemed to need this just as much as he wanted to comfort Mafuyu right now.
Wanted to… but couldn’t. No one could.
He was staring blankly at the empty sheet in front of him. It stood out in the darkness of his room like the pale moon in the night sky. Mafuyu didn’t even know when the day had turned into night. Nor did he know since when he was looking at the blank piece of paper. His hands were clenched around the pen in his hand. He didn’t notice or care.
He wanted to write.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to cry.
He wanted something else than nothingness.
The nothingness that filled his head and made it feel like bursting. It was like a black whole, swallowing everything. All of the words he wanted to get out. Needed to get out.
His eyes moved to his wall calendar. He didn’t highlight it this time, but the date was standing out as if it was written in screaming red. As if there was nothing else.
In the first year, he had marked every single day with a cross. Every day, up to this day.
Back then, he had pressed so hard that the tip of the marker turned inwards. Red ink had welled like blood out of it. Since then, he hadn’t bought another one. Since then, nearly another year had passed.
He didn’t notice it. How didn’t he notice it!?
But deep inside, Mafuyu knew why.
He was always there. Every day. Every second. Always at his side… but never really there.
It had been somewhere in a dark corner of his mind. That this day came closer. That the shadows hidden deep in his soul grew larger. That his thoughts colored grey. That the heavy weight on his chest became stronger day by day.
He didn’t question it, until the scales fell from his eyes today. Until Haruki had talked about this date, as if it was nothing special. As if it didn’t determine his life.
And now he wanted nothing more than to get it out of his head. His heart. His soul.
This song, that he had felt deep inside for such a long time. This song, that belonged to him. Only him.
Yuuki…
There had been this one moment, were it had broken out of him. A moment, that was forever engraved into his memory, like an old melody. A moment, that had taken a burden that weighted as much as whole planets from his heart. Back then, when he had stood on this stage for the first time in his life. When suddenly everything had been there. All the words he had tried to find all this time…
But now, when he wanted to write them down for him, he couldn’t. Even though they were meant for him. He was the one who needed to hear them the most. These words.
And suddenly Mafuyu understood why it didn’t work. He approached to it the wrong way.
It wasn’t that he needed to write them down for him. No. Yuuki needed to hear them…
The guitar on his back was heavier than usual. He seemed to nearly break under the familiar weight, but Mafuyu continued his way unwaveringly. The hard gravel scrunched under his heavy steps.
It was a gray day. All of the past days had been like that. Numb. Dull. Sliding by like cloudy fog. But today, even the sky matched his mood. Matched the date. Matched, what had happened.
Mafuyu felt nothing and everything at once. A condition that ran like a thread through the past week. He had functioned, but his eyes remained empty; his smile hollow; his heart heavy.
Uenoyama probably noticed that something was off… but Mafuyu had no explanation for him. Couldn’t speak about the unspeakable. Couldn’t make him understand the incomprehensible. Instead, he had remained silent and blocked all of his questions.
How should he explain something he didn’t understand himself…?
With the certainty of a sleepwalker he found the right way, even though he hadn’t been here way too long. Mechanically, he walked past the cold, dark stones. They rose up from the ground like broken teeth. The air was heavy with the smell of dead soil and wet grass. No bird was singing in the treetops that surrounded the area. The silence was oppressive.
There were only a few other visitors. Empty shells, he passed in silence. Right now, Mafuyu didn’t feel like he was a part of this world. Right now, he felt the unyielding wall of glass under his fingertips again. It closed him off and made him the loneliest person on this planet.
There was already a bouquet of flowers on his grave. Flowers he forgot.
How could he forget something fundamental like that? Today, of all days…
“Yuuki…,” he whispered weakly into the wind. Or maybe he just thought his name. Mafuyu wasn’t sure, if even a single word left his trembling lips.
“I wanted to bring you white tulips.”
White tulips for endless love…. because what was dead couldn’t die anymore. Their love would be forever endless.
The stone remained silent. It always did. He wouldn’t get any answers. Nevermore.
Mafuyu kneeled in front of it. He felt the sharp stones of the footpath through the fabric of his trousers.
Smoothly, he slid trough the straps of his guitar bag and put it to the ground.
His body moved on its own. Mechanically. It followed an invisible script he could cling on to. The buzzing sound of the zipper was unnaturally loud. The red of his guitar stood out virulently against the dull environment.
Mafuyu closed his eyes for the duration of a painful heartbeat. Then he took the guitar and placed it on his lap. His eyes were fixated on the cold tombstone.
His fingers found the strings on their own. He felt the familiar surface under his fingertips. It felt colder than usual.
Tentatively, he drove with the pick over the strings. Even through the silence the uncoordinated tones were barely audible. Of course they weren’t. An electric guitar needed an amp to make itself heard. Without it, it was as useful as a match without a flint.
But the tones he played were only for Yuuki – and he would hear them anyway. He would hear them in the wailing of his bleeding heart; in the words, he would sing softly into the wind…
Of course, some parts would be missing. No drums. No bass. No second guitar. He could only give his own things into it. His words. His faint tones. But here and now, it would be enough. They were the things that belonged to Yuuki anyway. He didn’t need the rest…
“It’s for you, Yuuki…,” Mafuyu whispered, after he had tuned his guitar. His gaze rested on the tombstone for some seconds. On the silver colored letters of his name. It was as if he wanted to give Yuuki time to answer. Time, to prepare himself…
His fingers began to move over the fretboard. Mafuyu played the intro. It was so muted, that even he barely heard it. But he continued anyway. The music flowed into the air. To Yuuki…
And when the singing part was about to begin, he opened his mouth; waited for the words to escape his lips… but he remained silent. There was nothing to hear. Not a single sound.
His fingers slipped off.
No… it couldn’t be…
He shuddered. It was a coldness that dwelled deep inside him.
Mafuyu tried it again. He played the first tones. The lyrics were in his mind syllable for syllable, but when he reached the crucial part, there was nothing. This time, his fingers continued to play though. He hoped to get in later in the song. Maybe in the second sentence. Or the refrain. Or the second verse. Sometime!
But nothing happened. No sound left his lips, while his fingers continued to struggle; playing the unheard song. With virtual despair he pressed the strings down. They cut deep into his flesh. Toiled through the song. But Mafuyu didn’t stop. He mustn’t stop…
And he continued. Played until the end. Started again. Tried again. Tried to sing. For Yuuki. To tell him everything… but his voices still failed.
No… please…. please, I have to –
A driblet made him pause for an instant, before he began the guitar-riff again and played a bit slower. Tired he lifted his head to the clouded sky. More cold drops were falling on his face. On his hands. On the guitar…
The guitar!
Suddenly, he felt something through his numbness. Loud like a red dab of paint on a sheet of music. It was unspeakable horror. Horror, because he still didn’t sing a single word. Horror, because it was raining on the guitar. The guitar he needed to protect. It was Yuukis guitar!
But he had to… he needed to play… to sing… he just had to… but he couldn’t go on and play like that… he couldn’t… but he had to… he needed to…!
His fingers pressed the strings down with more force, while the rain intensified. The drops ricocheted loud and ugly from the corpus. They screamed at him to finally give up, but suddenly, there was a shadow over him. Suddenly, there were no drops shattering on his skin anymore; no drops shattering on the guitar.
Surprised, he lifted his head. There was a dark umbrella above him.
Someone had sat behind him. Placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Bend forward to his ear.
“Go on and play…”
Uenoyamas voice was quiet but determined, like a precisely played, fading tone. His gaze was unfathomable. He didn’t seem mad or angry… just thoughtful. Thoughtful, and maybe also a bit helpless. Or desperate.?
With big eyes, Mafuyu looked at him. He was too perplexed to say something. Too imprisoned in his own mind to think about what he was doing here. How he found him. What he should do with this.
Silence filled the air and Uenoyama didn’t seem like he wanted to say more. Instead, he was just staring straight forward and stoically at the grey tombstone in front of them. His hand was still resting reassuringly on Mafuyus shoulder.
Some breaths passed, before Mafuyu nodded slowly. He also turned his head to Yuuki again. His fingers felt numb, while he put them away from the strings to intone the song again. To play his faint tones and open his chapped lips, hoping that the words would finally escape them. Just a single one.
It would be a start at least…
But they remained sealed. The words were locked up in his throat. Drowned in his ink black lifeblood.
Voicelessly, he moved his lips.
Uenoyama was also silent.
The rain was pouring quietly on the umbrella. It sang a lonely melody, that seemed to mock him… but Mafuyu didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Played on and on. Started again and again. Felt, how his breathing became more unsteady. How his heart tightened painfully, with every new attempt that left him voiceless.
It couldn’t be… mustn’t be…
Two years. Today, it had been two years and he still couldn’t do it… still was too weak to face him…
Mafuyu tried it with more vigor. Slid over the stings full of exasperation. Until he missed the tones. Until he played a barely hearable disharmony, that threatened to tear his eardrum. Until his fingertips were burning painfully. Until he noticed something wet on his cheek.
It was as if he was awakening out of a deep trance. He needed some efforts to loosen his fingers of the instrument. His hands were shaking while he lifted them to his face and touched his cheeks full of shock.
There were tears… tears, that mixed with the blood on his fingertips.
He cried… he cried real tears… cried them in front of Yuuki… for Yuuki… for himself…
It felt as if the tight knot in his chest loosened a bit. As if he could breathe more freely.
Unbelievingly, he stared at his scratched-up fingers. There wasn’t just the physical pain, but also bitter grief that brought more tears into his eyes.
Uenoyama still didn’t say anything. Instead, he carefully put his arm around Mafuyu. Gently he took his left hand and looked at it for some seconds, before he led it to his lips. Softly, he placed a kiss on each maltreated fingertip. Then he intertwined their hands and let them rest on Mafuyus lap.
Gently, Uenoyama caressed the back of his hand with his thumb. A short kiss brushed his cheek, before he lay his head on Mafuyus shoulder.
“It will heal,” Uenoyama said. His gaze rested on his bloody fingers.
There was nothing more. No demands. No questions. No pushing him to talk.
He was just there. Held him close. Held him together.
Even though he didn’t understand… had no clue… would never comprehend it… but maybe he didn’t need to.
Because it was enough. More than enough. More than he had ever expected…
And maybe Uenoyama was the reason, that he could allow it in the first place.
The tears. The pain. The feeling.
Today and also at the time on the stage; today, and hopefully also in the future…
And in the end, it wasn’t Uenoyama who needed to understand something...
No. It was himself.
He couldn’t shut himself off forever… and maybe now it was time to finally let someone in.
The one who held him close.
The one who bore with his silence.