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i don't want to cry.
i don't want to cry.
“mr aoyagi! care to answer a few questions?”, this ‘mr aoyagi’ nodded, there isn’t much room to refuse, anyway.
“first, we’d like to congratulate you! the piece earlier you sampled was beautiful, truly award-winning!”, this interviewer… whatever, it’s meaningless to him anyway.
“haha, it’s my pleasure.”, bullshit.
“oh, how humble! now, for our first question, what made you return to classical music after street music?” what did make mr aoyagi turn back to classical?
i…
i don’t know…
why am i here? why am i hearing piano chords, and not the noise shoes make against the dance floor? why… why?
why are you here, toya?
toya choked out, bailing on the journalist. “please, excuse me,” and he’s gone. this figure was tall, anyone could see where he walked, and everyone saw him enter a car door.
i can see you in my memory.
“bring me to vivid street.”
the driver only nodded, and toya gazed out the window. i’m tired, i am so tired. why are you even playing if it’s meaningless to you? why play if it doesn’t bare you happiness? why return, if you knew it’ll never be the same as before? ‘it isn’t childish antics! it bears me more happiness than being controlled to perfection!’ then why leave it? why… why, toya? why did you force your body made to dance to choreography sit on the stool and place your hands made to hold a microphone on the keys?
thinking is so bothersome.
“you’re not you.”, “you’re not the same person anymore.”, “who fucking are you?”, “i don’t know you anymore”, “what happened to you?!”, “i’m sorry, do i know you?”, “you aren’t him.”, “i searched for you, only to find this?!”, “i never knew you after all.”
no… no…
i'm okay. no, i’m not.
it hurts. i want to cry, but i can’t… it hurts, but i can’t let it out. i want to scream, i want out. let me out! i…
want to feel your throat tighten in pain?
want to feel the wetness of your tears against your skin?
too bad.
the leaves stopped changing color, my mind still wanders the place you found me, my head still rings the words you told me, my hands long to wrap around yours, my body wants to feel your embrace, my cheeks want your playful pokes, my lips want your own on mine.
yet, everybody walked away, everybody moved on. you all left me…
it wasn’t supposed to be like this. what’s it supposed to be like then?
i don’t want to see you. i shouldn’t long for you, i shouldn’t pray to see your face again, i shouldn’t imagine my head on your shoulder, i shouldn’t picture your kiss when i come home, i shouldn’t imagine your cheeks fluffing up as you eat your favorite pancakes. do you even still like those? i shouldn’t be thinking this.
i don't want to see you. i really want to see you.
but… in my book, i’m still a teen. in my book, i’m still dancing. in my book, i’m still singing with three other people. in my book, i’m still walking that vividly colored street. in my book, i’m still with you. in my book, i never left your side. in my book, i’m still laying on your chest, arms tightly around me. in my book, i can still feel your kiss on my cheek. in my book, i still remember how your lips feel like.
i’m still there, i’m still walking that street, i’m still a kid who doesn’t know better, i’m still sitting beside you, i’m still holding your hand, i’m still the one you cry to when you fight with your sister, i’m still with you, i’m still your partner,
i’m still happy.
it hurts… i miss you so much, i miss you so bad it almost kills me! say you remember me, say you missed me too, say you feel the same…! say you remember the day i said yes, say you remember how my voice rings your name, i loved how you say my name, it’s different, it makes me feel …human! that faint voice of yours that grazed me, please call my name one more time. that day… that day i became your partner, that day i started walking with you, that day you shared with me your dream…
i want to miss you,
i want to touch you.
it was getting good… i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry i left. i’m so sorry i ruined it. i want to make up for it, accept me again if you choose, and i will do everything to win back your love.
you were right, it was a mistake. i made a mistake, can i be selfish, and make up for it? can i be selfish, and long for you? are you still waiting? did you wait like you promised, even knowing i said i would never return? ‘i feel like you'll appear, so i wait aimlessly.’ did you wait, or did you fall?
i understand, but i hope you did. i hope this trip isn’t going to be vain. ‘you’re making a mistake, toya! these memories will haunt you, how are you supposed to play when you’re still stuck with us?!’ you were right, i don’t know how i played for so long like this.
i realized it, i realized i wanted to be by your side, don’t tell me it’s too late. i want to chase that dream with you again, i hope you still haven’t reached it.
take one more chance on me. come back, come back, come back.
the car stopped, toya gave no word as he got out, only telling the driver to go home without him. he’ll find his own way home. oh, the air. it’s different. the faint smell of spray paint, the scattered microphones, and speakers on the ground… the livehouses still full of life even at a late hour.
one would question why the famous classical musician aoyagi toya wanders the street, especially without a companion.
he found… a guy, leaning his back against the wall. hood up, hands dug deep in the jacket’s pockets.
his feet lead him to the guy, he didn’t have to see properly to know who that guy was. he knows that hair color, he knows that blonde streak, he knows that figure, he knows that face that fails to hide in the hood.
shinonome akito.
“hey,” don’t pretend you’re happy to see me.
his voice was still deep, still that soothing deep voice. i wonder if my name sounds just like it did before.
“hey.”
the wall akito leaned on had graffiti on it, knowing this, as well as vivid street, you wouldn’t think much of it, but it’s a different kind of graffiti…
vivid bad squad.
oh, vivid bad squad. truly the good old days.
this silence, it isn’t good. it’s better than the silence alone, only hearing the ring of the keys as toya would press on them, it wasn’t draining like that.
“i saw you play on tv, didn’t know you still had it in you,”
oh…
those days toya forced himself to get up from bed and play the keys, those days where he would belittle his non-existent drive to play piano. non-existent, meaning there isn’t anything to belittle, right? no. the fact it’s not there is enough to degrade it. it should be there, but it’s not.
“thank you, i do enjoy playing, just like when i was a kid.”
no, you didn’t.
“really? that’s …good, i guess.”
it isn’t.
“do you have a coach or something? y’know, to help you”
he’s terrible.
“my father occasionally helps, his advice always helps me out.”
it all makes me feel so small.
toya’s voice was lost by the end, his throat tightened. it’s all a lie, it’s all lies. it’s fake, it’s not true. it hurts…
i wish everything was a lie.
who are you?
who are you?!
“that’s enough, toya.”, that’s… enough? what do you mean? “i know you, you aren’t enjoying that bullshit at all. it’s so obvious, your face says it all.” ah… you see right through me…
toya chuckled, sorrowful smiles and sorrowful eyes, he can’t hide anymore.
“you’re right.” damn straight, look at you! “i hate it. i hate it so much.”, then why leave, for the millionth time?! are being that dumbass again? snap out of it! i know you’re better than this. “everything, i hated it all.”
toya felt a grasp on his hand, his hand, it engulfed my own so quickly… it’s so warm too… “you’re shaking.”, oh… i didn’t notice…
akito got up, now facing his old partner.
“i missed you.”, the taller blurted out.
that better not be a lie.
“you missed me?”
“yes.”
“i did too, you were hurting, weren’t you?”
“so bad. i felt so empty.”
akito’s gaze looked so worried for toya, who wouldn’t be? look at him, under despair and hurting as if he has only begun to feel sadness recently. his eyes look so dull, out of life, out of energy.
“can i touch you?”
oh… i never thought i’d hear those words again… toya gladly nodded at those words, smiling genuinely for the first time in months.
he felt a pair of hands cupping his cheeks lightly. his skin is still so soft to the touch… toya leaned into the touch, making akito’s smile creep up his face too. akito felt that little snuggle against his calloused hands, the boy felt sparks flying in his heart.
“i missed your voice.”
“i missed yours too.”
“you want me to sing for you?”
“i wouldn’t mind that, just…”
“kiss me first, please?”
“you sure?”
“a hundred percent.”
kiss my pain away. kiss it better.
his partner leaned him on the wall, his suit getting all dirty from the wall, but toya doesn’t care, his care lies in akito. both their eyes were hazy, captivated by the moment as their lips met after way too long. akito’s hand landed on toya’s waist, the other tucking toya’s now long hair behind his ear. toya felt the piercings as his hand cups akito’s face.
it was slow at first, they went slowly at first. akito was careful with toya, it was like gently petting a kitten hoping it would calm down and learn to love your touch. wine… a faint taste of wine.
they kissed, and they kissed. they were safe with each other, finally. it feels right, it feels so new, yet nostalgic. it feels different, but the same old. huh…
it’s hard to breathe, but not in the drowning kind. i feel so small, but in a way i know, i’m being cared for.
akito felt that smile against the kiss. he feels so much more confident as the kiss went on, and on, and on. they grow breathy but still hold so much excitement.
“i still love you, y’know.”
“i know.”
“do you still love me too?”
“of course. i love you so much, it makes my heart ache.”
“you waited after all this time, thank you.”
“no, thank you for coming back, instead of bailing on me for life.”
“you know i would crawl back here no matter what, i know you do.”
“maybe i do, maybe that’s why i waited even after all this time.”
and i can't let you go, your hand print's on my soul. it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold
his eyes, akito’s, they’re so enticing to toya, he swears his own probably looks so love-struck. he couldn’t hold the need for another kiss any longer, one just as long as the previous one. he kissed akito again, letting his hand hold on the wrist of the hand cupping his face.
they kissed, they kissed again. the events earlier were less than a blur, this moment takes the crown of the best things that happened to either of the two. their lips against each other’s under a dim light in a street where it all began.
“wouldn’t this damage your reputation?”
“i don’t care.”
did you change at all, i wonder…