Work Text:
It was sudden.
Like the first crack you hear when glass hits the floor, like the crumbling groan you hear when a house is about to crash down, like the sparks of a timid flame that would soon roar with rage and heat - it was sudden, and shocking.
The night was just as monotonous as the last, but there was some kind of tension hanging in the air, like a string pulled taut, ready to break, ready to collapse. Nobody knew who broke the silence first - maybe it was Takahiro, who couldn’t stop gritting his teeth over the dinner table; maybe it was Issei, who kept on gripping his fork till his knuckles grew stark white, but never made a move to eat. Maybe it wasn’t them at all. Maybe all that diminished the quiet was their heavy heartbeats.
It was only until a few moments when everything came crashing down.
There was a sharp glance, and then a pointed stare that all but fanned the flames leading to a forest fire. But neither could care less about the consequences - they let the sparks ignite.
Voices that they once enjoyed keeping timid and loving no longer held those restrictions; they raged with all their might, all but ripping through the veil of silence like a dagger, words edged with poison and bathed with hatred. They were on their feet now, their dinner gone cold and long gone forgotten. Their fists were blurry things, and spittle flew out of their mouths in a fiery rage, because neither of them held back anymore - they were too far gone by then. They said things they didn't mean, asked questions they never believed in themselves, and shouted words so venomous they stung like acid. Doubts, jealousies, hatred, selfishness - it all came at once. It all boiled down to one thing, in the end: do you love me at all?
That was it, it seemed - that breaking point. Because after that, the silence that they shattered before came again, this time punctuated by their heaving breaths. Issei couldn’t find his voice anymore, not after screaming so loudly in the first place - but the only words he could force out of his sore throat were simple: “I can’t do this, I can’t, not like this.”
Takahiro wanted to protest, wanted to do something right, but he could no longer function; his bones were frozen, and his blood was as cold as ice. He couldn’t even see his lover leave his house, not with the tears clouding his eyes. And with the sharp bang of the door closing shut, what once was laid between the pair of them in a pile of ash and smoke.
After all of this, you’d think, ’this was unexpected’, right? Because what they had had always been as strong as iron, as unyielding as a mountain. What they shared had been so much more than hands held sneakily, sighs breathed beneath the sheets, or just three words spoken to one another over and over and over. It was so much more than the bookish definition of “love” - you couldn’t see it, but it was there.
But then, feelings could fade. Iron could rust, and mountains could wear away to dust.
You could say that neither of them wanted this to happen. Takahiro didn’t. Nor did Issei. But it would be wrong to say that they didn’t see it coming.
And yet, what could they do? All that they had was all but hanging off of the edge of a steep cliff, teetering so far from bliss, and so close to an endless abyss. And even if they tried to crawl their way towards the precipice, knees scraped raw and bloody fingers clawing at another try, another fight, another chance, they knew that it would all be in vain. They had tried it themselves, tried to save something that had no chance of surviving. And they knew how futile it was. They knew how it only left them weary and tired and helpless.
So they let go. They gave up, and gave in to the fire.
Days had passed since then. Neither of them kept any real track, either; when two people who once always saw the same things now faced opposite directions, you could end up more than just lost, or alone. The emptiness would start to press in on you, as if you were being cramped in a room where the walls would only shrink. The silence would turn into white noise, noise so loud you’d rather claw at the walls with broken nails and beg and plead for it all to stop, please stop, please. And the crippling loneliness… well, you’d wish you had a demon wrapped around your soul, for even a malignant companion is better than none.
The days stretched on, as per usual. But neither of their minds were ready to move on ahead. Both of them were contemplating the same thing - why couldn’t they save their love, fight for it, and win? Why did it have to be ruined?
The journey to the truth had been a long one. For the both of them. It involved a few too many drinks, meeting up with acquaintances they’d rather never meet in their lives, and the acceptance of a few vicious thoughts with heavy hearts and tears stinging their eyes. But in the end, they understood.
And I’ll tell you.
You see, there was a reason why their love was thrown into a fire instead of a hollow void. There was a reason why it all had to burn away into dark clouds of smoke and ash and destruction, instead of just being thrust into a black hole, with no knowing whether there will be an end or not. There was a reason why it had to perish, instead of just disappearing into nothingness. There was a reason why it all had to end.
Because the process of regeneration is a tricky thing. It does not involve the addition of matter on top of something that already exists; it merely involves the process of making something anew - that is, from scratch. It involves creation. And just as the universe we live in could not exist without a fiery explosion, creation cannot take place without destruction. You cannot create something if it already exists.
You have to break it, first. You have to burn it, until its very existence is erased by selfish force. After that, nothing stops you. All you have to do then is create - and I promise you, when there’s nothing holding you back, you can form indestructible ideas and flawless plans. You can make incorruptible philosophies and beliefs. You can create a love stronger than the last.
The love that Takahiro and Issei shared was strong, no doubt. It had flaws, it had cracks and empty spaces, but it was real. Maybe all that it needed was some regeneration. Maybe all that it needed was that spark of emotion, a collapsing snowball effect that ended up in roaring flames, flames red and hot and searing enough to destroy.
What I’m saying is that maybe it needed that destruction. Only then could it be reborn, all new and strong and invincible.
And after weeks of absence, when the two of them faced each other once more, they could feel it. When they voiced their silent thoughts, and closed the gaping distance between them with arms outstretched, they could sense it. And when the tears fell and soft ’sorry’s and ‘I love you’s and ‘don’t let me go’s escaped their lips through shaky sobs and whispers, they could tell that all was not lost. Yes, what they had before didn't exist anymore - but something else came instead. Something stronger, more honest, and so much more beautiful.
That had been their first fight. It had been fiery, fierce, catastrophic - but necessary. Because for every end, no matter how devastating, there would always be a new beginning.