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Rin never liked performing. He wasn’t a big fan of human interaction. He only had a few selective friends whom he couldn’t consider his friends, more like friends of a friend. He did tolerate them, (to a certain extent.) Not that he didn’t want anything to do with socializing. He liked keeping to himself and focusing on his priorities. Which is hypocritical now since he’s in a sold-out stadium with thousands of people waiting for him to come out and perform his songs.
Rin didn’t expect to become famous, let alone a singer. The poems in his cheapskate notebook (notebook, not a diary) were written in vulnerable moments. They weren’t long enough to become songs, they were personal to him. They were moments he never thought to share with anyone.
If anything had left an impact on him—truly affected him—he’d run to his room, lock the door, grab his notebook and a pencil. There he would pour out his feelings like it was a lifeline. To some extent, it almost was a lifeline. His words were the paintbrush creating beautiful curated strokes to express his emotions that he couldn’t outwardly say.
Yet, here he was. Performing, live, for a shit ton of fans he had accumulated over the past year with the release of his album.
Blowing up happened rather quickly. He still remembers playing a song for a person who wasn’t in his life anymore, in his childhood room with his guitar. Unintentionally, he had posted the video on his social media account and the next morning he was a hit.
Safe to say, that person didn’t see it. Thankfully. He’d rather die than let him of all people know how he truly felt after their breakup. Again, hypocritical, since everyone who listens to his music now knows his true feelings on the situation. Everyone except for him.
The stadium lights soon dimmed and it was Rin’s cue to step out in front of the crowd. When he did, a wave of electric screams rang out from enthusiastic fans. Even though he believed he wouldn’t ever be ‘famous,’ it was nice knowing people related to his music. It made something in his heart turn; he never thought his poems would garner worldwide attention.
Rin slung his guitar over his shoulder and strummed a note. This small action was enough to send his fans into a frenzy again. He chuckled into the microphone. “I won’t waste any more time. I hope everyone enjoys their night,” he said smoothly into the mic which sent fans ablaze once more.
With that being said, his fingers started to brush against the guitar's strings. The melody began playing in the background; slow and absolutely saddening.
Baby, baby, there will always be
A space for you and me, right where you left it
It was Tuesday afternoon. Rin usually wouldn’t pay much attention to weekdays unless something important was happening. It just so happened that today was one of those days. If he were to speak fairly, recently, every day felt like one of those days.
The sun was starting to hang low in the sky, casting yellow and orange hues over the city. From where he was, an old train platform, he could see the entirety of the city. Civilians could be seen walking the streets of Japan, going home after a long day of work. Seeing the city’s overview from the platform was beautiful. It was sad to see the place so battered by nature. The old train platform had long been abandoned by public transportation after maintenance costs rose. Slowly, it became filled with weeds and smelled like rust. Anyone else might feel weird about the smell or the setting, but to Rin, it was comforting. A little nature couldn’t hurt him.
Rin sat on the edge of the platform, feet dangling below. He didn’t look up when he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t have to. This place was reserved for two people only. He and the very person approaching him.
“Hey,” Isagi said softly.
Rin kept his eyes on the sunset. “You’re late.”
“I had to pack,” Isagi replied, dropping his bag to the ground, landing with a soft thud. “I leave tomorrow morning.”
“I know.” Rin’s voice was flat.
“Rin.”
Silence fell between the two of them. The only thing that could be heard was each other's breathing. Usually, it would be comforting to hear Isagi’s steady breathing. Now, it was agonizingly uncomfortable and unbearable.
“You said we’d go to college together,” Rin muttered.
Isagi let out a sigh. “I said that when we were fifteen.”
“You still said it.”
“I got the scholarship, Rin. Tokyo’s a chance I can’t throw away. You know that.” Isagi countered.
Rin didn’t respond. He continued looking at the setting sun. The platform had always been theirs. No one else came to this spot. Here they talked about dumb things like what superpower they’d want or what new game they were looking forward to. When they had a rather rough day or they didn’t feel like talking, they would settle into the peace the platform offered; away from everyone, everything, just the two of them. When they talked about life: past, present, or future, it didn’t matter. These periods always seemed to involve both of them. Rin and Isagi. Isagi and Rin.
Rin hadn’t realized how sacred the place had become until now.
Until it was about to be left behind.
Rin had always believed that Isagi would be part of his future. He wasn’t codependent on him. Hell no. Rin and Isagi had been friends since their late childhood. Rin had been able to survive without Isagi before they met in primary school, he can still survive without him even now. Yet, knowing that Isagi, his Isagi, wouldn’t be there anymore after a long day of school, practice, or a rather hard day. It scared him. The distance scared him. It was an unfamiliar feeling, Rin was never scared, leave that to Isagi. Do couples even survive long distance? Do they even survive life after college? Were they doomed from the beginning? Was this how it ended?
“I thought maybe you’d ask me to stay,” Isagi said, quietly.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Rin immediately snapped back at Isagi’s response. Stupid Isagi. He wouldn’t go that low. He didn’t want to see him go after the promise they had made, but he was rational enough to know that Isagi had a great opportunity in front of him. He’d be stupid if he didn’t take it.
“Why not?”
Rin swallowed hard. His fingers curled around the edge of the platform.
“Because you’d go anyway,” he ended up saying after a long moment. “And I’d rather let you go than watch you lie to yourself.”
And just maybe, enough time will pass
We'll look back and laugh, just don't forget it
Rin’s phone buzzed at 12:47 a.m.
Isagi
u up?
Rin
obviously
Isagi
meet me
Rin
where
Isagi
Isagi has started sharing their location
bring coins
Rin didn’t ask why. He knew that it would be pointless. He’s dealt with Isagi long enough to know his shenanigans. He quickly threw on a hoodie, grabbed whatever change he had, and biked to Isagi’s location in ten minutes.
It was a convenience store. The store was empty, if he remembered correctly, the owner was away on travel. The only sign of life was the street lights that were illuminating the small building and Isagi’s mop of blue hair. Isagi stood by the claw machine outside the building, grinning as if it weren’t the middle of the night.
As if he wasn’t leaving tomorrow.
“Why can’t you be normal,” Rin said, braking his bike near them.
Isagi shrugged. “You showed up.” He then turned towards the claw machine, which was filled with cheap plushies that were cute enough to want to spend ungodly amounts of money to win one.
“Remember this?” He looked up at Rin with a nostalgic expression. How could Rin forget? This was the place they stopped at after their first date at the movies.
Rin rolled his eyes. “You wasted two thousand yen trying to win me that sad little octopus.”
“I was gonna give it to you as a memory of our first date,” Isagi admitted with an embarrassed smile.
“It looked like it had trauma.”
“You liked it!” Isagi exclaimed with feigned anger.
“I pitied it.” Rin scoffed.
Isagi laughed and it made Rin’s chest hurt more than he wanted to admit. He looked relieved, he noticed how a moment of peace washed over him. With the secrecy of his scholarship, he had been tense around him. Now, everything seemed to fall back into place, even if just for a moment.
They played three rounds. On the third round Isagi had picked up the “sad little octopus” he pitied. Isagi grabbed it from the machine and handed it to Rin. He grabbed it and started to inspect it. The octopus did look blue, (funny, the stupid octopus was the same color as its feelings), but it was fairly cute as much as he hated to admit. Rin leaned back against the window, watching the neon lights from the machine flicker against Isagi’s face.
“You think we’ll stay in contact?” Rin asked, his voice quiet. As friends went unsaid.
Isagi paused, fingers still on the joystick. “I hope so.”
He turned around, stepping closer, close enough that Rin could smell his cologne and see the little scar above his left brow. He got it from falling off his bike in eighth grade. He remembered how he panicked seeing Isagi’s face gushing out blood. He was the one who cleaned the wound, patched him up, and called him an idiot.
Isagi’s expression softened. “We’ll look back and laugh at this, soon.” Rin didn’t say anything, instead, he held out his pinky, and wordlessly Isagi hooked his own around it.
They never said anything anticlimactic like “I love you,” or “don’t go.”
But they made a promise.
And maybe I'm wrong for writing this song
Losing my head over you
They did not stay in contact.
Well at first they did.
After Isagi left for school, they had started strong. They stayed in contact for the first few months that Isagi was settling into Tokyo. He had even gone up to visit Isagi for a few days when he mentioned he missed home. Those few days with Isagi felt like a breath of fresh air. Like he was coming back home after years of being away. Yet, there was still the lingering feeling at the back of his head, a nagging feeling that would pester him, like being suffocated by toxic air. Rin knew things couldn’t go back to normal and might never will, but it was nice to pretend. It was nice to know he still had Isagi in life, even if their only form of communication was through messages.
Once college started, their communication started to dwindle slowly. Isagi started replying less frequently. At first, it was a few hours, then a few days, to entire weeks, until there was radio silence. Rin had expected this, he had prepared himself for this scenario, but experiencing it firsthand didn’t soften the blow. Rin could now only see how Isagi was doing through his posts on social media, which soon became fruitful since Isagi would end up removing him from his friends list.
There went years of friendship, almost a year and a half of a relationship. How touching.
Rin sat cross-legged on his floor, guitar resting on his lap, and his notebook open in front of him. His fingers hovered over the strings. He looked over at his bedside table, where his clock and a familiar picture resided. It was a photo of Isagi, mid-laugh, taken during their embarrassingly long pining phase for each other.
He remembers the moment leading up to the picture. He remembers how Isagi was poking fun at him because of an old digital camera he had bought, “Why would you buy something that you won’t ever use? Are you actually an idiot!” He should’ve said he bought it because he wanted to fill up its memory with Isagi, but he didn’t. Rin laughed in his face. Isagi stayed stunned, his blue eyes widened and his mouth was slightly agape. Before long, he joined in with his laughter. That’s when Rin snuck in the picture. After everything that happened with Isagi, Rin had tried to throw it out, but he couldn’t. Now it just lies face down.
Rin looked away. Before long, he started strumming his guitar strings while lowly singing the first thing that came to his mind.
“Baby, baby, there will always be… a space for you and me.”
He hated how true that was.
Rin knew there would always be a space for their relationship in his heart. Isagi was one of the few people who truly touched him, he hadn’t met someone so readily to love so openly as Isagi. If he was honest, it scared him. He hadn’t met someone ready to accept his imperfections and still love him unconditionally for it. He wasn’t used to a love like the one Isagi offered him, but Isagi let him learn and accept his love. Even if he didn’t still believe he deserved to be loved by someone so painfully caring and loving, Isagi was there to remind him that he was loved and worthy of it despite what he thought. Even if they didn’t work out right now, that didn’t stop him from waiting until later down the road. He would want to start again with Isagi, this time they would do it right. They would communicate their feelings, they wouldn’t leave each other out in the dark, he’d take risks this time, and he wouldn’t be afraid of letting Isagi into his life.
“Maybe I’m wrong for writing this,” Rin whispered to no one in particular.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Summer had long passed and the autumn leaves were coming in. Isagi surely had moved on already, considering he went ghost on him. It fucking sucked. Did he truly mean nothing to Isagi? Did he really throw away years of friendship because they hadn’t worked out? Idiot Isagi. Stupid, idiotic, Isagi. It felt like he had been a bad chapter that Isagi desperately wanted to close the book on.
And here Rin was. Still writing for a long-discontinued book.
“I’m losing my head over you,” he said aloud, chuckling. How fucking shameful. Isagi has worn him down to a shameless, yearning dumbass. He grimaced, shaking his head. The irony of going from a block-headed, stoic man to a useless, yearning imbecile. He grabbed his pencil and wrote down the lyrics.
And I'll be here, 'cause we both know how it goes
I don't want things to change, I pray they stay the same always
It was a Thursday.
When Isagi was still present in Rin’s life, Thursdays meant shared meals and walking home past their curfew. He distantly remembers how this small tradition came to be. He remembers meeting Isagi at a restaurant, and they ended up sharing a meal because the restaurant went above their budget. He remembers laughing about how they miscalculated such an important part. After they ate, they walked around the city before walking home. Ever since then, they continued to eat out on Thursdays and walked late into the night.
Thursdays for Rin now meant walking the same path, alone.
Rin mindlessly walked the same path they used to walk through. It was the longer route, he knew he could always take the shorter one, but it would feel like he was cheating on Isagi. It was weird. They weren’t in a relationship and they weren’t friends, so how could he cheat on him? But this path was established by both of them, they both took his path, they both had memories on this path, why would he change his ways because he couldn’t forget Isagi or the memories? He felt more connected to Isagi by continuing the small things they used to do together. It makes him feel at ease.
Rin sighed, kicking a rock off the sidewalk. Rin spent the last few weeks of summer with Isagi, but he then started school in August and had cut contact with him in October, it was now December. In a few weeks, it would be January. The early winter air had a sharp bite to it. Time was flying by, yet his world was still in summer.
Before Rin knew it, the convenience store came into view. He remembers the first and last time he was with Isagi here. It was quite sad how his first memory with Isagi here was beyond sweet, it was tooth-rotting. Now it’s tainted with unkept promises and tragedy.
Despite the pain, Rin headed straight to the claw machine.
It was still stocked with plushies, and the sad octopus was now gone after Isagi had won it for him. It was quite sad how Isagi won him that stupid sad octopus on the night he was leaving for a new life and not on their first date. The world seemed to always be against them.
Rin inserted a coin. The claw dropped, missed, and whirred back up. Guess Isagi used all his luck up on that sad octopus that sits on his bed, and passed down his bad luck onto him before he left. How fucking tragic.
The worst part? With or without Isagi, Rin continues to keep these small things alive. It all had become a routine, he couldn’t stop himself from doing all these acts that had been engraved into his head. What else was he supposed to do? Let everything they built crumble down? Let everything they created together be destroyed? Isagi tore down everything, but he won’t. Even if these memories are stained with grief and pain, he won’t let them die out.
He won’t forget Isagi.
Rin left the convenience store and started following the familiar path home. Past the park where they would sit and eat together during the spring. Past another store that had a vending machine.
He remembers Isagi had gotten two drinks accidentally from the machine and how he said, “Must be my lucky day. I wonder what I’ll get next… Maybe a date with you?” He remembers how he rolled his eyes and started walking away from him. A scrambling Isagi would follow him, unbeknownst to him that his face was slightly dusted pink after such a cheesy pick-up line.
He walked past the path to go to their sacred spot. He distantly remembers how they had talked about camping there once before their final year. That never came to be.
Rin kept walking.
It was tragic.
He didn’t want things to change.
And I don't care if you're with somebody else
I'll give you time and space, just know I'm not a phase
Rin didn’t plan to see him. Never expected to again.
He was just trying to get out of his house and clear his mind. He had been writing in his notebook again, but everything felt clouded. He couldn’t write down his raw emotions and it agitated him. What kind of lyricist was he if he couldn’t focus on his feelings and put them into words?
He walked for what seemed like forever. In the end, he only got to a more populated area of their hometown. He remembered how he and Isagi hated being in these populous crowds. It was better to be in a serene environment where one could enjoy themselves and those accompanying them. What was so good about being in a crowded, trendy area? Who would willingly be here—
In the split second that Rin turned his head into the window of the cafe, he would catch sight of the last person he thought to ever see again. A million questions began to surge into his head.
Why was Isagi at a cafe? In their hometown? Wasn’t he supposed to be in Tokyo? It was the end of the first semester, but it had just ended a week ago. Why was he back so early?
Rin noticed how he was sitting right next to the window.
Smiling. Fucking smiling.
With someone else.
Rin could see them from the outside, plain as day. Isagi was laughing into his drink, the boy in front of him leaning in close, their knees were brushing. What the fuck was this game of footsie? Did it mean something? It couldn’t right? He had a feeling Isagi wouldn’t wait for him and he was within his rights not to. Who was he to stop him from being with other people? They never spoke about waiting for each other. He knew their relationship was over. It was as soon as Isagi brought up leaving for Tokyo, it solidified the night at the convenience store, and it was a reality when Isagi went ghost.
He should’ve walked away. He really should’ve. But instead, he stood there like a fucking idiot staring at the pair like a deer in headlights. As anticlimactic as it sounds, he felt his heart drop.
His first thought wasn’t raging jealousy. Or the urge to cry his eyes out until he couldn’t anymore. In fact, he hadn’t even thought about running in front of a car after seeing such things.
Isagi looked happy.
That broke something inside of him.
Unlucky him, Isagi must’ve felt his piercing gaze through the glass. He turned his head slightly and their eyes met for a second. He could see Isagi’s bright smile drop into a thin line.
Isagi didn’t look away immediately. He kept his gaze on Rin, he couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what he was feeling. He was a complete enigma.
It wasn’t until the boy touched his wrist, bringing him back to the present that Isagi looked away.
Rin stepped back, pivoting on his heels. He turned around and started walking the long way home. His fingers tightened into fists, fingernails dug into his skin, to feel grounded—to feel in control.
He needed to hold onto the last bits of control that he had in his body. Control over his feelings, over this outdated chapter of his life, over his body.
He always knew Isagi would have moved on sooner or later. It was inevitable; everyone has the right to continue with their lives. He had to deal with it and accept that he was not his person, not anymore. It wasn’t Isagi’s fault that Rin still had sleepless nights over him, over the what-ifs and the wishful thinking. He had to control himself not to step into that store and start screaming at Isagi, saying everything he had been bottling up for months. Despite that, he would still mention how much he fucking missed him.
So what if Isagi had moved on? Don’t you meet people twice in your life? Once when you’re naive and ignorant of the world around you; where it’s just you and your partner in a seemingly blissful peace? The second time when you’re both more grounded and mature; where it’s more emotionally and physically invested?
If that was it then he would have to wait.
He’d wait however long to meet Isagi again.
I'm always, ways, ways
Always, ways, ways
I'm always, ways, ways
The subway rattled beneath him as Rin leaned against the window. His reflection stared back at him. He looked tired. He had seen better days. He noticed how different station signs blurred past at the subway’s speed. He wasn’t going anywhere in particular. He just wanted to get a clear mind.
That seemed to never work out for Rin though. He soon noticed how the subway had passed by the old stop Isagi and he would get off at. Except this time he didn’t get off like old times. He waited until the next stop to get off. Once he was out, he started to walk the streets, hands deep in his coat pockets.
Everywhere he went, there was a place that he had shared with Isagi. He knew that this only reopened the wound he knew he had to start closing. This wasn’t healthy and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. They were friends before they even started dating. How could he forget years of friendship in just a couple of months?
Rin walked past the old rawmen shop that they would stop by after school. He noticed the cracked sidewalk where Isagi tripped and nearly pulled Rin down with him. The bookstore they would visit the day before an exam and study, when in reality they would just steal glances at each other.
Rin couldn’t get Isagi out of his system. He probably never will. There was so much of his life that was associated with Isagi. He couldn't replace those memories with new ones. He certainly couldn't erase them. All he could do was look back at them with nostalgia. He'd do anything to go back to those simple times. Where it seemed like everything was too good to be true. Even though the earth continued revolving, even though Isagi had walked away, even though the odds seemed to always be against them, Rin’s love hadn’t stopped. It probably never will.
Pretty lady, used to walk with me
Down Bloor street, oh, what a time
He remembers that it had been Isagi’s idea to walk home instead of taking the subway. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had taken the subway. Isagi was almost always so adamant about walking instead of taking any other means to facilitate his travel distance.
“C’mon,” he drawled out, bumping their shoulders together. “It’s not even that far. And the weather’s good.”
Rin had rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say no. Isagi wasn’t wrong. The weather was quite nice. The sky was a nice shade of blue, and the sun's rays casted down on the earth in a beautiful golden color. The air was nice and fresh, it was about time after all the rain they had been receiving. The weather wasn’t the reason he had silently followed through with Isagi’s decision, he knew he could never say no to that smile.
They walked side by side, shoulders brushing against each other at every step they took. The street they would walk down was fairly busy today, but it didn’t matter. As cliché as it sounded, whenever Rin was with Isagi, all he could focus on was him. Everything else would be tuned out and would have to wait for him.
Isagi yapped his ear off. He was ranting about a documentary he had watched. Then he would talk about how he wants to go to a pottery studio and create ceramic pots. Then he’d mention how he almost burned down his house because he left the rice on the stove for a little too long.
Rin listened to Isagi’s stories with a small smile on his face. At some point, Isagi reached out to tug at his hair.
“You’re not even listening,” he complained, brows furrowed into a scowl.
“I am,” Rin said. “You’re just bad at telling stories.”
Isagi laughed at his comment. They soon stopped at a bookstore. They had a sign posted in front of their shop, “A book is a gift you can read again and again.”
Isagi tilted his head at the sign before saying, “I like that.”
“Of course you would,” Rin replied, but the corners of his mouth curved before he could stop them.
And I still remember the fussin', the fightin', the fuckin', the lyin'
It's all fine, you'll always be mine
They were at Isagi’s house. His parents were out, mentioning some date that would take the whole day. The place was comforting, warm, the kind of home that wrapped you up like a soft blanket. His family was bubbly, kind, and way too good for this world. Yet today, it felt suffocating. The walls seemed to press in, and the air hung heavy with the harsh words that were screamed.
Isagi sat on the edge of his bed with Rin in tow, their shoulders were tense, and despite the space between them, Isagi felt so distant.
“I’m sorry,” Isagi finally said, voice tight. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Tokyo sooner. I didn’t know how to approach it. I should’ve been honest with you since the beginning.”
Rin didn’t speak. His hands were clenched tightly into fists at his sides. He couldn’t recognize Isagi. Why had he been kept in the dark on such an important matter? His boyfriend should’ve told him about his plans to leave for Tokyo for college. Instead, he kept it to himself. Since when was did Isagi start keeping secrets from him? Was he that untrustworthy? Was he that ill-tempered that his boyfriend can’t confine in him?
“It’s fine,” Rin gritted out, voice low but quivering. “When do you leave?”
Isagi’s jaw clenched. “A week from now.”
Rin swallowed hard. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Isagi breathed out after a few moments. His face was puffy with tears and his voice was raspy after their scream match.
“What happens now?” Rin asked, slowly. He had a feeling of what was coming, he wasn't ready for it, but it’s best to confront the issue now rather than later.
Isagi looked down, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know, Rin.”
And maybe I'm wrong (hey, babe, you could)
For writing this song (write me a song)
Losing my head over you
Rin sat cross-legged on the floor of his room. His guitar rested against his knee, fingers traced the strings absentmindedly. His notebook lay open on the floor.
“Maybe you could write me a song,” Isagi teased as he leaned in, pressing his lips against his. The warmth of his body could be felt through his clothes. Rin grinned, kissing Isagi back in the slow, unrushed tempo.
A bitter laugh escaped him. “Here’s your song Isagi,” he muttered to himself.
Rin picked up his guitar pick, and his fingers trembled slightly as he strummed a chord.
And I'll be here, 'cause we both know how it goes
I don't want things to change, I pray they stay the same always
Rin stood outside the café where they used to meet, hands shoved deep into his pockets. They would come to this café whenever the temperature would drop. They would both order hot chocolate with marshmallows and sit down and drink their cup.
He watched the door swing open and close, he imagined Isagi stepping out of the store with stain of the chocolate on his cupid’s bow. Instead, he watched as a couple walked out together, hand in hand, with coffee in their free hand.
He really needed to stop with this, but he couldn’t. Every where he went all he could think about was Isagi. All he could see was Isagi.
He didn’t want to face the inevitable change.
And I don't care if you're with somebody else
I'll give you time and space, just know I'm not a phase
Rin sat on the old train platform, legs dangling over the edge. The night was quiet except for the distant car horns he’d hear every so often.
He pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, staring up at the stars scattered across the sky.
It had been a while since he came to this spot. He didn’t want to be haunted by Isagi more than he already was. Except today, he needed to feel comforted. What better way to feel safe than to go to his safe place?
Even if this place was his and Isagis' spot, that didn’t mean it couldn’t still be his place. Even though it will always be tainted by the memory of Isagi, he can still feel at peace in this place.
Even now, he didn’t know where Isagi was now—maybe at his dorm or out living his life—or who he might be with or what he might be doing. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t his place to know anymore.
He sighed and looked out over the horizon. He never thought the silence would be this deafening without Isagi.
I'm always, ways, ways
Always, ways, ways
I'm always, ways, ways
Rin’s fingers brushed against the worn photo in his hand.
It was a photo of Isagi and Rin in a photo booth—their first time as a couple. He thought the photograph was adorable. They struck silly poses, kissed each other on the cheek, and wore their biggest grins.
He remembers that day. It was the cheesiest day he had ever lived, and he loved every minute of it.
Rin closed his eyes. Why couldn’t he just put Isagi in a box and forget about him? Why did he still have to choose Isagi after everything? If Isagi moved on, why can’t he? How do you forget years of memories in just a couple of months? He wish Isagi could answer his question.
Always, you can count on it, sure as the stars in the sky
Always, you can count on it, sure as the sun will rise
Always, my love for you ain't goin' nowhere
Night had fallen over the city, and Rin sat next to his window. The cool glass pressed against his shoulder as he gazed at the stars.
He closed his eyes and let the memory of Isagi appear in his mind, and rush through his body. He remembered the warmth of his smile, the way his laughter could brighten his mood, and the smell of his shampoo. It had been so long since he heard from Isagi, and yet he could remember everything about him.
He still knew Isagi like the back of his hand.
Always, I will be here
Soon enough, the first song finished, and the crowd erupted into cheers. It was the kind of high Rin wished would never end.
Rin continued to sing the rest of his songs. The energy of the audience fueled him, and his lips quirked upwards. It was pure, unrestrained happiness. For the first time in a long while, he felt true joy.
For a moment, it felt like he was the only one on stage. Playing for himself and for one sole person.
The applause had barely faded when Rin stepped backstage, his heart was still racing from the performance, and sweat clung to his forehead. He walked into his dressing room, sank onto the couch he was provided with, and pulled out his phone. He looked through his notifications, until he noticed a familiar message. At a closer look, his breath hitched.
Isagi
Hey, Rin. I heard your song.
I don’t know what to say… but maybe it’s time we talk?