Archive of Our Own ^beta

Escape Velocity: The speed required for an object to escape the gravitational pull of a planet or other body. [Source]

Sho blew away the flame of the single candle on his cake, and made a wish. He knew it wasn’t a wish that would come true, but there wasn’t anything that he wished for more in the world.

If you love my brother at all, you’ll stay away from him.

He closed his eyes, remembering Yuu-chan’s words. 

It’s fine that you guys play at having a relationship in high school, but high school’s over. I’ve seen my brother miserable because of you too many times, and I want it to stop. You’re going away to college, and I don’t want him to just wait for you for years. And what of your music career? You’ve decided that you’re too good to stay in the indie scene, and you want to go on and have a major debut as a pop singer, well. You have to accept the consequences of your decision. You can’t afford a relationship like this, when even a normal, acceptable relationship was going to be difficult enough for the future you plan to make for yourself.

Yuu-chan was right. He knew that the younger boy was right, but it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. He had always thought that staying away from Aiba would be impossible.

But it was. It hurt like hell, especially to see Aiba looking back at him in shock and pain, but it was possible.

It’s for his own good, Sho reminded himself. 

“You’re... breaking up with me.” Aiba spoke in a low, shaky voice. He felt like Sho had pulled the ground from under him. He knew that things hadn’t been going very well for the two of them lately, and that their future looked shaky, but he thought that they would be able to work it out. He had thought that as long as they were together, they would be able to work things out.

“Yes.” Sho willed Aiba to understand. He wanted to explain everything, but he didn’t want Aiba to blame Yuu-chan for saying what was true. There was no future for them. He had hurt Aiba enough by choosing to leave their band to pursue a solo career, and he was going to college in another prefecture even though Aiba wanted him to study locally so that it was easier for them to see each other. He had a plan for his future, and there really wasn’t a place for Aiba in it. If he had held on to their relationship, Aiba would only be miserable – more so than he already was.

“On your birthday?”

Sho glanced at the cake between them. “Better mine than yours,” he said, hating himself for trying to joke even in that situation. “I’m really sorry for the bad timing, especially since you’ve put a lot of work into today.”

“Nino’s mom made the cake,” Aiba said absently, still reeling from the shock. A painful thought came to him, and he asked, “Are you seeing someone else?”


“No,” Sho insisted. Then he thought better of it, and admitted, “I might, though. Do you remember Akita Michiyo? She’s our classmate,” Sho said, referring to himself and Nino, “and she’s been to several of our live shows. Well, she kind of confessed to me sometime ago, and I’m thinking about it.” He liked Michiyo well enough, Sho reasoned. She could help him get over Aiba. And if Aiba knew about it, then maybe he’d accept that it was over between them.

Aiba took a deep, ragged breath. “Okay,” he finally said after a long pause. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back any tears, and opened them again to look at Sho. “Is she why you chose to go to that school?” Please say no, he thought, although he couldn’t see if it would make any difference.

“No.” But before Aiba could even begin to feel the small relief Sho’s answer gave him, Sho continued, “However, she’s going to the same college as me. It was a coincidence that we chose the same place, but we are going to the same place.” His words felt accusing to Aiba, as Sho had wanted Aiba to apply to the same school. Aiba refused, wanting to be closer to his home and family. He also thought - rather naively, he now supposed - that Sho would rather be near him than leave, since he would be accepted to any local college he applied to.

Aiba just nodded in acknowledgement of Sho’s words. He didn’t want to be there any more. He didn’t want to be in that conversation. He wished that he could turn back time, that he could make the entire day disappear.

“I understand,” he said quietly. He stood up, and gathered his bag. He had asked Sho to make sure he had a couple of days free, because he had planned a small trip for the two of them as Sho’s birthday gift. He took out the train tickets and hotel information, and placed them on the table. “Here. You can use them, or throw them away.”

“Aiba -”

“Leave me alone,” Aiba said. Sho felt a stab of pain, hearing the hitch in Aiba’s voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too,” Aiba said softly, before he left Sho behind. “I’m sorry that I trusted we could make it through.”

“What are you doing here?” Yuu asked Sho, when he found his brother’s ex at the door that evening.

“I’ve decided to leave for college early, because I need to find a place and get used to living there first,” Sho said. “I just want to see Aiba one last time, to make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s not,” Nino said, walking into the room. His expression was hard and unforgiving as he fixed a stare at Sho. “How could you do this to him?” he asked.

Sho was silent. Yuu shifted uncomfortably, and said, “Maybe I was wrong.” He was used to seeing Aiba miserable in the last few months, but it was never as bad as it was now.

“You’re not,” Sho said. “You were right. You were so right. I just wished I had realised this sooner.” He sounded tired, and his hand lifted to rub at his eyes. “He’s upstairs?”

Nino stepped forward to stop Sho from going up, but Yuu pulled him back. “Let him say goodbye, at least.” 

When Sho reached Aiba’s room, he pushed the door open as silently as he could, and looked in. Aiba was asleep, his back facing the door. He didn’t realise Sho was there.

Sho looked around at Aiba’s room, wondering if it was the last time he was going to see it. He probably wouldn’t be coming here any longer, he realised, just as he realised that Nino would never forgive him for causing Aiba so much pain. The thought that he was losing his best friend and the person he loved all in one day ached him, and he wished that things were different, that he could forget about everything else and for things to stay like it had been in high school. But he had his parents to think about - they expected him to graduate from his father’s old college. He had his career to think about, as Yuu was right when he said that trying to keep a relationship with Aiba while pursuing his dreams would probably cause both his career and relationship to crash and burn. And he had Aiba to think about. He hoped that in his absence, Aiba could finally find someone who made him happy, because he knew that Aiba hadn’t been, the past few months in their relationship.

Aiba’s sleeping figure looked as broken as Sho felt, and he wanted to nothing more than to crawl into the bed and hold Aiba. But he knew that he had given up his right to do so, and that even if his intention was to soothe Aiba’s pain, it would only end up damaging both of them more.

So he walked up to Aiba, and bent over to sweep away the lock of hair that had fallen over Aiba’s face. He kissed Aiba gently on the cheek, and whispered, “I love you.”

Still sleeping, Aiba let out a small sigh. Sho ran his fingers through Aiba’s hair one last time, and turned to leave.

When he came back down, Yuu was gone. Nino looked at him, and said, “I don’t want you to contact either of us again.”

Sho gave Nino a sad smile, and a small nod in return. “I’m leaving. Please take care of him,” he said, his last words tinged with desperation.

“Oh, I will,” Nino said angrily, turning his back on Sho. “Just like I’ve taken care of him all of those other times you’ve made him cry.” 

“Thank you, Nino. That means a lot to me,” Sho said. He lingered for awhile, looking at Nino. Nino and Aiba were childhood friends, but Sho only met Nino in the first year of high school. They had been in the same class and sat next to each other up until graduation. It seemed strange that he was saying goodbye to the person he had considered his best friend for the last three years. Strange that he was about to face a future without his best friend, or the boy he had fallen in love with despite himself. “Goodbye, Nino,” he said, uttering the final words to their friendship. Nino didn’t look back at him or acknowledge him in any way. 

Sho turned to leave behind the only people that had felt like family to him, and wondered why doing the right thing had felt so wrong.