Work Text:
*:･ﾟ✧
The agony of silence even in a room packed with people. The agony of searching for a particular person in the crowd and not meeting with your favorite eye color. Taiju cannot describe what he's feeling in his heart right now. He cannot count how many times he's glanced at his watch and back at the same girl who's been staring at him with her sharp, cat-like eyes across the tables. What the fuck? He thought, before feeling the girl blink slowly, as if mentally devouring him. It's weird. He thought again. Is that how girls feel when sons of gunks ogle at their bodies on streets? Naked? Unsafe? Vulnerable?
God! He sighed for umpteenth times. Turning on his polished shoes. Hands in his pocket. His streaked, well gelled head coming to look at people pouring in from the grand doors of his new restaurant. His first restaurant. His only restaurant. His venture from being a struggler to an entrepreneur. Today's the opening day. Taiju is exactly 24 years,10 months and 15 days old. The evening is young and bustling and it's a Friday. Outside it's a little windy. If you close your eyes and forget the noise a group of aunties are making at the table just under his left elbow, then you can hear the leaves rustling and fighting with each other on the road. Sound of high heels. Men laughing. Children whining. Car doors closing.
People... more people.
The day is already a success. One could tell by looking at the number of tables that got filled in just 3 hours of the opening. But it's ugly how Taiju couldn't feel victorious. One reason could be the cold. His stuffy nose. His dry mouth. His throat that's a deciduous forest. Another reason, well, could be that among all the different kinds of frequencies hanging in the air right now, his heart hadn't caught the one it has been meaning to catch since the day dawned on the thick June sky hanging above the ceiling of his empire.
Taiju sniffed hard. A blob of mucus slid down the pipe behind his oesophagus and he felt like gagging. This is death. He thought. Not cold. But the emptiness he's feeling in his heart right now. It's kind of doggy loneliness. You know, the one a dog feels when his owner left him tied to the pole and forgets him there for hours and hours. Yes. That feeling. That doggy loneliness. Taiju wished he could shake it off. But then his big hand would find his phone in his right pocket. His fingers would pluck it out slowly. Unlocking the screening in suspense. Finding no reply to his last text: 'when you'll be free?'
Even though he knows the answer to his question is "not till 8", he finds himself checking the messages every minute like a mom and sigh a heartbreaking sigh. Having no power over the situation, he would sadly stow the phone back where it belonged. He would then continue avoiding the glares of that perverted girl and start greeting the incoming guests? members? payers? restaurant-enjoyers? with a stiff smile.
Taiju actually cannot describe what's happening with his body right now. All he could say was that it's agonising to miss someone this bad. It's agonizing to feel defeated even when you have everything. Everything? But not the person who you wished were there beside you the most on your big day. In Taiju's case, it's you...
You who's missing from him at the moment. You who's pushing past her way to the crowded restroom and locking herself in a cell and changing out of her current attire and in the dress that got selected after spending 2 gallons of tears in 30 minutes. If it wasn't for Taiju, you would have wasted an hour more on bawling over your indecisiveness. But then he stepped forward like a knight. Dropped a box on your bed like a lamb's head and said, "open it" in his deep, 70s American superstar voice. You shook like a leaf, and slowly pulled out a faded silver-purple dress from the depth of that carton. You couldn't take much of it in that moment, as your eyes melted into tears again and Taiju came laughing to hug you. "Such a baby you are," he said, while stealing the, "fuck you!" from your moist lips.
It was only now that you stood in the cheap glow of your university's washroom that you saw what he had selected for you. A lovely evening robe. Fabric like water. Splashing down to your knees. The sequin on the lace looked like stars in the ocean. Sleeves like air. Everything felt like air. And you look so beautiful that the guys and girls alike couldn't help but stare when you left the washroom.
Your first priority was to entrust your stuff to Kisaki, a nerd from the mathematics department, who's the only person that was ready to help you out in escaping the uni. Second was, ofcourse, to make out of the building like you either have an invisibility cloak on or you've borrowed someone else's face all because you don't like drawing attention.
First task was easy. Second task was easiest when you found the corridors empty. It brought a smile to your face. But it was only when you were nearly 10 steps away from the door that you heard someone say, "(y/n)? Is that you?" in a very serious voice.
You halted your march, and had yourself turn around to face a very perplexed middle aged woman who happened to be one of your lecturer.
"Weren't you in a tartan waist top and a black bootcut some minutes ago?" was the first thing that she asked when you held her gaze. And you said, "yes, Professor."
"Then why are you not in a tartan waist top and a black bootcut now?"
"Because I changed out of it."
"And why's that?" she narrowed her eyes and you suddenly felt like a bad girl, student, human, and everything else in between.
"The nature of the emergency was such that—"
"—that it compelled you to sneak out of the compulsory seminar before its conclusion? Plus in such a nice dress?"
Your heart sank in your chest as her eyes started to scan you from head to toe while your brain begin to search for the words that could simply and concisely put forward the fact that: "you department people told us that the seminar will be over by 8 pm and it's 8:40 already— no 8:41— and it's still going on and I don't have the whole night as my bbg loml boyfriend is waiting for me at his new restaurant. Today's the first day and he deserves to have a familiar company as his siblings are shit and failed to make it to Tokyo for him and he must be sad, and I don't want him to be sad, especially on a day for which he waited for almost 5 years."
"(Y/n). I'm asking something?" The professor snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked once, twice, three times and instead of speaking, you chose a different verb and that was pulling out what looked like a coupon from your small bag.
"Professor..." you cleared your throat and started, "...today's a very big day for someone who's very... special to me..." the woman took the coupon from you and began to read it with squinted eyes, "and I promised that I'll be with him after the seminar."
"Him?" she squeaked.
You nodded, albeit shyly, that made the Taiju in your head cringe.
"Your "him" owns a restaurant?"
You nodded again. "Today's the first day. He worked really hard for it." The last part came out of your lungs mixed with little pride and little love, and a very interesting expression crossed your professor's aging face. She said, "you should've told me earlier," you mumbled, "I didn't know how to..." and it made her laugh. She proceeded to hand you the coupon but you shook your head. "It's for you." You smiled. "I'll be delighted if you'll come and check out the place with your friends. I can guarantee you a nice time."
Your professor chuckled. "Aren't you a very supportive girlfriend?" she said, looking at the coupon and then at you and it made your cheeks heat up slightly. "But, no, give him my best wishes," she smiled, "and have a really good time."
"Thank you, Professor."
A nod, and the old lady turned on her moss green kitten heels. You stood there for a second with your hand on the stap of your small shoulder bag. All the sleepless nights Taiju spent making plans, the afternoons wasted in chasing the investors, missed dinners, missed breakfasts, missed pancakes, missed dates... all came swimming in your head at the moment as you mindlessly watched your Professor getting smaller and smaller as the distance between you and her grew more and more.
There was a time when you wanted to mix sleeping pills in his blackest of black coffee, and there was a time when you bought him a roll-on cream as the circles under his yellow eyes started to graw darker than January. There also was a time when you both would go on without speaking for weeks. That used to hurt very bad, but you never showed. Laying in your bed, you would wait for your phone to ring. But it never came, though he did. Magically one night at 2 am. With a bag full of chips and chocolates. He said only one thing and it was, "I'm sorry," before sleep knocked him bad and he collapsed on your couch for the next two days. It was a Monday when he woke up. You weren't in your apartment. But a note from you was. It read: "the food is poisoned, eat it if you love me."
You smiled to yourself.
Turning to leave.
Remembering how you found an empty apartment, an empty plate and a note that read: "thank you. I didn't know poison tastes like pancakes" on returning home that day.
To be honest, it was the second time you realized you loved that man more than your grudges. First was when you opened the door at 2 am for him.
The doggy loneliness is still weighing heavily on Taiju's broad shoulders. He has checked his phone more than a hundred times now. Thankfully that cat-eyed girl has left, and now he feels rather safe for his chastity. Time has worn out bad since he last checked. It's past 9:15. The place is packed with so many bodies and souls, and his hands have germs from so many people that it feels unreal. He never had this many handshakes in his whole life. It's also very peculiar how he could recall the texture of each palm and fingers that has graced his palm and fingers during the whole evening. Flakey ones. Sweaty ones. Chapped ones. Soft like resin ones. Hard like asphalt ones. Gravely like sand ones. All kinds of them, except the one that he's yearing to touch since the morning.
The only contact with you was a message from you at 7:21 am that read: "fuck! Best of luck, Taiju fucking Shiba! Don't fail the god, loser! I'll be there at 8:30! I promise!" There were atleast 17 crying emojis accompanied with atleast 15 broken hearts and two sparkles. Few minutes later you sent him a picture of a knife, the caption read, "weapon that will kill the professors today." Taiju laughed for five minutes straight. Then his laughs turned hollow. Only a ghost of a smile on his face as he laid there in his boxers. Loneliness creeping up from the floor like a slime to lace his fingers that hangs down the sides of the bed.
It... has been like this his whole life. An empty home. An empty room. An empty heart. No one to share what's in his head. No one to tell where it hurts. No one to make him breakfast. No one to tell which color to wear, which perfume to use, which movie to watch after the day. No one to put him in the bed and say, "you have been a good boy," before turning off the light. Before closing the door. Before telling him that tomorrow will be more beautiful than today.
Standing here under the golden lights of his restaurant, Taiju felt tears blinding his sight at the same time he felt his hand touch something that touches back. It was soft. Like beach foam. And cold, like thebocean. At first he thought he's handshaking with an octopus, but then he blinked and saw a pair of eyes that he could recognize even when all the wits in his body were gone.
He sighed.
A corner of his lips swept up as the person connected to his hand said, "you look so ugly."
"Feels weird hearing from an even more uglier person." Taiju jokes, feeling his heart beat oddly when a small laugh rang around him. The world, the people, the glow, the tables, the thoughts in his head... everything turned to a smudge painting as the only thing that remained clearly visible was you...
You, and your eyes and the dots in them. Your hand in his. The dress on your body. The way your hair frames your face. The way the earrings in your ears sway. Everything about you is like summer, warm and gold.
Everything about you is what he's ever wanted. A friend. Someone to talk to. Someone to say the things in his head. Someone who could tell him what to wear and what to not. You called him last night to read him his horoscope for the next day, "Goto horoscope says, 'Everything that happens today has a special meaning to Leo. It is quite possible that later on, the Lions will look back at the day as a start of their new life!' IT'S THE SIGN FROM UNIVERSE, TAI!"
Your laughs are infectious. And your smiles are pandemic. And when you said, "wear something red," he pulled out the tie you once gifted him on Christmas.
It would have been doggy loneliness and slime of silence forever if you hadn't opened the door that day at 2 am. Taiju thought he had lost the only person who was ever good to him. "No call for weeks. Not even a single message. How could you expect her to stay when you're making it so clear that your ambitions matters more to you than her?" He believed whatever the granny who usually drops him lunch has said. But then something in him told him otherwise at 1 am and he picked his keys and drove himself down the darkness of Tokyo to bang at your door.
It was the second time he realized someone loves him more than his emptiness. First time was when you kissed his virgin lips at Shinjuku Garden and placed your hand on his heart like you were searching for it forever.
"I hope I'm not too late," you said, pulling him out of his thoughts. He blinked, and shook his head. Pulling you close. His face looked like he wanted to say something. You waited for him to gather his words. But all that left him was a small smile and a "thank you" that made you frown. "For what...?" you asked. "I don't know..." he shrugged, "everything, maybe..."
"Okay." You nodded. Tiptoeing to his height and placing a kiss on his nose. "Thank you accepted. Now feed me something. I haven't eaten anything since lunch."
"You can't be serious?" Taiju said.
When you said, "I am," he couldn't help but growled.
"When will you start taking care of yourself?" He asked with a straight face. You stepped away from him to laugh and say, "isn't that chandelier hanging lower than it was meant to?"
"Don't avoid the question, (y/n)."
"I'm not." You laughed again, your eyes rocking in between the sea of tables and people with bodies and souls. "I'm seriously concerned about the decorations, and as far as I could make, at least 10 things are not the way they were supposed to be."
"Yes." Taiju scoffed. "11th is you."
Your eyes twitched. "How?" you questioned as he said, "you weren't supposed to be standing here, rather, having a very deep and meaningful conversation with me at my office over that fucking French dish I couldn't name myself."
"Lol, Shiba!" You chuckled. "You seriously put that dish on the menu?"
"The mock tests showed 8.8 stars rating on it." Taiju cleared his throat.
"What if someone asked you to pronounce it?"
"They all are like me here. Look." And he pointed his long finger at a lady in a purple wig who was trying her level best to explain her order to a meek waiter. He named the dish for her. And the woman said, "yes, yes. This fucking French culinary."
Taiju threw his head back laughing. His mouth slightly opened, and you couldn't help but stare at his face with a stifled smile playing on your own lips. He said something while still looking at the lady. You couldn't make it. He repeated again, and you said "yes..." without actually knowing the context.
In that moment, nothing mattered to you more than the shape of his nose. His big nose. Red at the tip as he caught a bad flu three days ago. His lips. Thin. The way they part. The way he would lick them often. A hesitant speaker that he is. Always saying less than he meant to. But it's magical how you could hear him even in silence. He turned to you. And it was when you noticed his eyes. Today they look more like a beach at sunset than a hazy glass of champagne. And there were two weak dots in them. So tiny one could miss easily. But they were there. You knew because you could feel them in your heart that's drumming very weirdly behind your ribs. It's all "thump-thump" in place of "ba-dum" and you thought it's trying to cut out of your chest to fuse with his like a parasite. You had to place a hand on your sternum to pet it down like a good dog. Taiju's face crumpled in an expression of worry and he ask, "heartburn?" You took a second to shake your head and breath, "love..."
All the love I've for you is barking like a dog in me.
He let out a small laugh. Took your hand in his big one and said, "let's feed it something. Maybe it'll quiet down." You could feel the way his fingers wrapped your fingers. Each line on his palm against each line on yours. "Can we kiss today?" you asked as he began to lead you both in the direction to his office on the first floor. His answer was a straight no, and you groaned. He said he doesn't want to transfer the viruses to you. You said you'll be fine as you're immune to "every fucking germ on your body." He said, "whatever." You said, "please." He said, "no." And you said, "fine!" Huffing like a kid. Clinging to his hand like a kid. Trailing after him like a kid.
Once outside his office, he stopped to put the keys in the hole. Letting go of your hand, he said, "you know what?" You frowned, because you didn't know what. "I changed my mind." You frowned harder as he turned to you. Before you could ask for the context, he grabbed your face, said, "fuck flu" and placed those lips against yours. It took you a whole 10 seconds to process that goddamn human affection. But when you did, you closed your eyes. Made yourself home in his arms with your one hand on his back and other on his heart. It's beating the same way it did that day at Shinjuku Garden. Loud and hot and vulnerable under your fingers. And it was the first time you realized that you're never going to love any other man the exact way you love him.
"Do you believe in forever?" you remember asking him a week ago. Sitting across from him at one of the tables in the main hall.
Taiju took more than a second to reply. In between the sips from his coffee, he said, "no."
You nodded. Looking at your hands on the table. Sun hanging outside the tinted window was trying to bleach them gold as a kind of silence that belonged to you and him only began to play around you both.
Taiju strummed the strings. You looked up. He placed the cup down. Smiled his small smile and said, "but I believe in us. If that counts."
"It do..." you nodded. "It does..."
He patted your hand. Get up on his trainers. Said he needed a refill and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen with his cup.
You sat there alone in the vast empty womb of his restaurant. Somewhere in the distance you could hear sharks swimming. Somewhere in the distance you could hear his deep voice echoing. You closed your eyes. Thinking about how far you've come with him, and how far you're planning to go.
*:･ﾟ✧