Work Text:
“SERIOUSLY THOUGH, HOW HAVE YOU BEEN SINCE RETURNING TO JAPAN?”
Aya asked, her velvety voice drawing Mituski’s attention from the café’s window and back to her. A small smile tugged at Aya’s glossed lips, she arched an eyebrow. She sat across from Mitsuki with an elbow propped on the edge of the square table. Her other hand held the handle of her teaspoon, and stirred her coffee in the mug as the steam swirled. The morning sun casting a glint over her features.
“I’ve been good… I guess.”
Mitsuki shifted in his seat and chuckled nervously. The chair screeched against the floor. His leg bounced, vibrating up and down underneath the table. His right hand wrapped around the ceramic teacup, fingers right below the rim, and the palm of his right hand underneath the base.
He couldn't comprehend the thought of being in the same space as his ex-girlfriend. It had been a while — maybe a week or two — since they first reunited. It already felt like a distant memory: Meeting up in a random alleyway whilst he was calming himself down from a panic attack, a lit cigarette held in between his fingers. He hadn’t heard her approach until she called out to him.
That was their first time seeing each other in three years. They argued, he remembered, and finally talked about everything that they left unspoken. He embraced her afterwards. It felt needed—no, wanted. He wanted to hold her.
That night, Mitsuki walked Aya back from the alleyway all the way to the train station. A gesture of gratitude he believed it to be. It was the least he could do in their circumstances. It was late, he ditched a gig that definitely had him being reprimanded for by his manager when he returned backstage, and he didn’t truly think much of the consequences in that moment.
Nothing else mattered; except Aya.
So, instead, he thought he'd sleep much better knowing that Aya boarded the train and arrived home safely. Surprisingly, the walk to the train station wasn’t anywhere near as awkward as Mitsuki thought it was going to be. Their footsteps treaded slowly on the concrete of the sidewalk, amidst the neon lights and starry sky, the murmuring conversations and loud music.
He couldn’t help but glance towards her every few seconds, afraid that she’ll somehow disappear again. She probably caught onto it, although he was definitely wishing she hadn’t, judging from the way Aya reached out and linked her pinky with his. It was nothing grand, but it made his heart race — the good kind.
A small smile etched onto his face.
The same one that was on his face right now, as he watched Aya remove the teaspoon from her mug and tap it against the rim; a drop of coffee dripped. She lifted it, rolling her eyes at Mitsuki’s answer with a teasing grin following after.
“Seriously?” Aya retorted, laughing a bit. “You guess or you know?”
“Okay, fine.” Mitsuki sighed dramatically and chuckled. “I know, I know.”
They shared another soft laugh together. It seemed that was what they could do at the moment. Then again, it was always easy for the two of them. As if nothing ever happened or came between them. Neither silence or humour felt tense and awkward, nothing overthought or underreacted. It was comfortable, as it once was before.
With his hands cradling the teacup, Mitsuki set it down onto the saucer and turned his head, glancing around the café. The warm glow of the sun spilled through from the windows and the scent of freshly brewed coffees and teas mingled with the faint sweetness of the pastries in the display case. A soft tune played, seamlessly blending in with the clinking of porcelain and ceramic cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.
There were only a few customers in the café besides them. Either absent mindlessly scrolling through their phones, headphones on and nodding their head to the sound of their own music, or reading the newspaper or magazine while they lingered by the wooden tables. The air carried out the occasional murmur of conversation or the polite scrape of the chair against the floor.
Looking through the window, the streets of Shibuya were waking up. Crowds of people were walking on the sidewalk, all heading towards their respective destinations at the start of the day. The engines of cars purred, driving past; one after the other. It was a stark contrast to the sudden nervousness Mitsuki felt about everything. He gulped, beginning to feel a tad bit uneasy. He shifted his focus to his teacup, fixing his posture to sit upright. After a second, he glanced up at Aya with a weak smile.
“I’m kinda nervous though,” he admitted sheepishly.
Aya pulled back, her grip tightened around her half-filled mug of coffee, creating a small distance between herself and the smoothened edge of the table. Her back almost hit against the wooden surface of the backrest. Her eyebrows furrowed, her forehead bunching up from faint lines, and her glossed lips twisted in a slight frown.
“How come?” Aya asked, both confused and concerned.
“Really?” Mitsuki deadpanned, sarcasm laced in his tone, staring blankly at her. His eyes narrowed, scrunching up. “You’re asking me that?”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
They stared at each other in silence. Mitsuki lowered his head, a pointed and expected expression on his face. Aya had raised her eyebrow, challenging Mitsuki to say something.
Yet, neither one of them said anything. Until someone — Mitsuki — broke and burst out in laughter, lowering his head onto his arm, hiding away. The sound of Aya’s followed merely seconds after; squinting her eyes and covering her mouth with her hand to muffle it. Mitsuki paused, peering up to look at her; mid-laugh with the sun shining just right on her.
Oh, how he was such a fool for her still.
However, in a second, something else caught his attention.
The sleeve of Aya’s jacket fell down slightly, on the side of her wrist by her right hand; which was covering her mouth as she was composing herself, Mitsuki saw the unmistakable design of a tattoo. It was small, yet it stood against the gold of Aya’s bracelets that clinked together every time she moved her hand. His breath hitched, his brain short-circuited. He never thought he’d see the day of Aya having a tattoo, never even considered it.
He didn’t know his gaze lingered long enough for Aya to catch on.
“What?”
Aya tilted her head, puzzled, and followed Mitsuki’s gaze and realised just what he was looking at.
Mitsuki cleared her throat, tearing her gaze away and focused back on her teacup. Meanwhile, Aya brought her arm down, bringing it to find refuge underneath the table. She pulled onto the sleeve of her jacket, tugging it further; gliding it down and stretching it over her palm. Her fingers curled into a fist, her long nails carefully digging through the cuff to keep it in place, covering the indelible design.
“I—um—uh,” Aya stuttered, her voice above a whisper. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d notice that.”
“No! No! It’s okay!” Mitsuki said, words rushed out as he shook his head. He tried to reassure her. “I just—I just didn’t expect. That’s all.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Aya smiled nervously. She reached out for her mug and tilted her head back, drowning down the last of her coffee and dropping the mug back down. She let out a sigh, taking a napkin to wipe away any sticky residue around her mouth.
The words rushed out of Mitsuki before he could stop himself.
“If I may ask, why did you get it?”
Aya froze. She crumpled the napkin and lowered her arms, folding them over her chest. She shrugged her shoulders. “Because… I just wanted something me of yo—I mean, of us—” Aya paused, considering her words carefully. “Of our time together; to commemorate it.”
She turned her head away and faced the window nearby, watching the passer-bys. She didn’t want to look Mitsuki in the eye after saying that. Being under his scrutiny was the last thing that she wanted. It’s bad enough that she had been in her head about everything since seeing him again. It’s even worse since he was sitting across from her.
However, to her surprise, the silence broke at the sound of Mitsuki’s laugh filling the space between them. Aya whipped her head, and definitely experienced a second of whiplash, not bothering to mask the disbelief on her face.
“Our time together, huh?” Mitsuki asked. Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his long hair, cautious not to let his rings tangle in the long strands; pushing it back before his hair fell into the exact same place, framing his face. “I don’t understand…”
Aya bit at her lower lip, she couldn’t bring herself to do so when she believed that she’d ruin the moment further. She didn’t want to worsen the mood but, in her mind, Mitsuki’s already was. Yet, she said something anyway; with a hint of frustration in her tone.
“It’s not for you to understand, Koga.”
“I see…”
Mitsuki mused with a frown and stared ahead onto the table. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes glancing around; deep in thought. His blank and thoughtful stare made Aya tense, she was expecting him to prod for more from her.
“... Well, I’m heading out.”
Mitsuki pushed his chair back and stood up, adjusting her jacket and smoothing down her pants, and gently set it back in its original place. From his back pocket, he pulled out a fresh box of the familiar, classic white and red box of Marlboro cigarettes and a lighter. He slowly walked past the table, stopping next to her seat.
“It was nice seeing you again, Oosawa.”
He smiled sadly, nodding at her, and made his way to leave.
AYA BARELY HEARD THE SOUND OF THE SOFT THUD OF MITSUKI’S FOOTSTEPS OR THE CAFÉ DOORS OPENING AND CLOSING. She sat there in her seat, left alone with her thoughts. Immediately, almost mechanically, Aya unfolded her arms and leaned forward, sliding her empty mug to the side, placing it near the edge where Mitsuki’s teacup was. He hadn’t finished his tea; it was half-full and the tea was probably cold.
She scoffed, shaking her head. “God, what’s the matter with me? You’d think I would’ve learned by now…”
Aya groaned inaudibly and hunched over, deflated. She propped her arm on the table and rested her cheek in the palm of her hand. A grave mistake, in hindsight, considering that her eyes automatically peered down and stared at where the tattoo; her other hand rested flat, her nails tapping against the surface.
If Aya got paid for every time she has been in this position, making assumptions and pushing those she loved away; especially Mitsuki, instead of owning up to her feelings and facing them, she’d be rich enough to relocate and change her name without hesitation.
A bold lie she liked to tell herself.
But how could she when this was Mitsuki she was thinking about?
Mitsuki, who she met at seventeen-years-old, dressed in all-black one afternoon and standing behind the counter, sorting out CDs. Then slowly became friends, kissed at prom in the storage room as they sat on the floor, and spent evenings together at the record store. He knew her mother and younger brothers, she knew his uncle Joe and Kanna. She knew his life, and he knew hers.
Now, he was Me to Her.
Five years into his career, and he had so many title-worthy awards that spoke for his talents. He was loved and supported by millions. His music connects with everyone, everywhere, all at once. Spending his days in rehearsals with his band, singing on and shredding the guitar on stage, smiling towards the crowd every night. His days and nights were spent in various countries, flying over oceans and driving in tour buses.
Aya wasn’t surprised how everything turned out for him. She always believed that he would go far just from how much he loved music, how passionately he spoke of it. The way he put pen to paper, ink staining the page and his fingertips if he scribbled down too fast. Other times, he wrote lyrics on napkins or his hands. Whenever the inspiration struck, he jotted it down.
She often wondered if he still did that.
Mitsuki’s music was sacred to her.
Whether it was listening to him sing and strum his guitar, or laying in comfortable silence as their favourite records played. Even during times when he’d ramble about his favourite songs and artists. She still had the album that Mitsuki gifted her on their graduation day. She knew the lyrics of each song.
It wasn’t until a few nights ago, recently, that Aya thought that she’d never see him again; in person, specifically.
For the past five years, he haunted everywhere she went. His face was plastered all over billboards in the city, his songs played on the radio, she’d see his music videos play on TV whenever she tried looking for something to watch. He was on the front cover of magazines, doing interviews, and seen on red carpets at award ceremonies. She’d overhear conversations with his name, showering him in praises.
Just like she used to do.
Yet, here she was five years later; sitting in a cafe and reminiscing about the past.
Aya cringed, lips twisting into a frown and buried her face in her hand. She used to mentally scold herself for being affected about his absence after she had been the one to end the relationship. Now it was his presence that had her thrown off. She should’ve kept her distance after seeing him the other night.
Why hadn’t she?
She rolled her eyes and snapped herself out of her reverie. She shook her head as a means to wake herself from continuing to walk down memory lane. Aya sat upright, closing her eyes and took a deep inhale. She didn’t need to be thinking about those memories. What has happened, already happened. They reconciled with it. The only thing left to do was leave it in the past.
Even if the bittersweet memories played on repeat.
Opening her eyes, Aya reached for her phone in the back pocket of her pants. When she unlocked it, she was immediately met with a notification of a message. She froze, a part of her hoped it was nothing urgent or important.
She hoped that it was him.
Tapping on the screen, opening the message.
Narita Megumu: We're outside. Ready to go?
Aya let out a dejected sigh. It hurt to admit that she was disappointed. But, she stood up and pushed her chair in. She placed her phone back in her pocket and cast one last glance at the window to see her reflection. She smoothed out her clothes, tucked strands of her behind her ears, and composed herself. Satisfied, Aya made her way to the front door, smiling and bowing her head in respect to the workers present.
Outside, the fresh air filled in and she was met with the sight of Megumu and Shu standing together. Megumu stood with his hands in his pocket and Shu was leaning against a streetlight pole. Megumu noticed Aya first, smiling with a cheerful greeting. Him and Shu strided towards her. The three of them began walking down the sidewalk amongst the growing crowd of people. Megumu and Shu engaged in conversation, but Aya didn’t feel like talking.
Which didn’t go unnoticed.
“You okay?”
Megumu asked, turning his head to look at her. Shu spared a glance too, their blank expression unchanged.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” Aya replied politely, trying not to sound vexed. “I’m sure.”
Shu cut into the conversation before Megumu could protest.
“Alright.” They shrugged, walking ahead of them. “If you say so.”
“I know so.”
THERE WAS ONLY ONE TIME IN AYA’S LIFE THAT SHE VIVIDLY REMEMBERED BEING EXTREMELY ANXIOUS. It was years ago, back in high school, when she was overworking herself to study for her entrance exam for university. She passed and everything turned out fine in the end. But she had gone through picking at her cuticles and spending every minute of the day studying to not fall behind.
Aya’d say that life enjoyed making cruel jokes. For having herself be in the same position from years ago, but the joke was on her this time around. That’s because she was the one who decided to be there at Volume One. The music bar that used to be the CD shop that stood in front of the station. Instead of walking past it, she walked inside once seeing how full it was; how loud it was with music and the pungent aroma of alcohol.
Standing near the bar, more towards the back so that she had easier access to the door, Aya saw him onstage.
He was standing near the microphone, dressed in all-black with his guitar strapped onto him. His hair cascaded down his back, a few long strands framing his face. The lights shone down on him and illuminated the glint of sweat on his forehead. His eyes, bright and filled with the adrenaline of performing, glanced around the music bar; taking in the crowded room.
A hopeless and unrealistic part of her wondered if he could see her.
The other part of her thought that this was a fucking mistake.
She should have never come here. She should’ve ignored the music bar the way she has been for the past five years.
What was she thinking? She probably wasn’t, is the answer Shu would’ve said if they knew where she was at the moment. It was the same thing that they said when she revealed to Megumu and Shu about the tattoo she got some time after the breakup. They’d probably watch her panic, bored yet amused.
Aya’d never admit it out loud, but they’d probably be right. She had thought that the worst had already happened, but that was only the beginning of convincing herself that everything happened the way it was supposed to.
From her vantage point, she watched as Mitsuki sang; pouring his heart out as he sang. For a split second, Aya felt as if they were back at the auditorium in high school where he sang Creep to her; the beginning of their friendship.
Hot tears brimmed in her eyes, a pang of hurt filled her chest. Aya swallowed the lump in her throat, one that she ignored the entire day and let out a shaky sigh. She blinked the unshed tears away, glancing everywhere before finally looking at Mitsuki once more.
She couldn’t do it anymore.
Aya walked towards the exit, disappearing into the sea of strangers, before she second guessed herself with tears streaming down her face and left.
If only she turned her head and looked over her shoulder for one last time. She would’ve seen the way Mitsuki’s smile morphed into a frown. How he froze in the middle of strumming and stopped singing; watching her leave.