http://aibashi.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] aibashi.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] planetarylight2011-09-17 03:23 am

(no subject)

Title: of summer
Pairings: kaoru&toshiya
Rating: G
Summary: "Let's go swim."
Disclaimer: nothing belongs to me.
Comments:
i found the summer writing prompt ( which is here ) and i know it's a bit late but it counts here is still as hot as in summer? u_u
this has been floating around my mind since i saw this picture, and I just wanted to try something different, writing wise.

tt's a Kaoru POV, which is kind of challenge for me, because it's so hard to grip what he's thinking, what are his motives, etc.
the picture it's supposed to be toshiya, and the place nagano.
and think about a.... 2005/6ish? era.

ugh and the ending sucks but i couldn't think about anything else!

comments are more than welcome and so is concrit, please please please i'm here to improve. ;o;
(as always, not betaed so sorry about any mistake.)




It has always been like this, since the first time I saw you, every year, you would ask.
"Do you want to come to Nagano with me?"

The first time, I refused because we barely knew each other, that's how I said no for the first time. The first time of a ritual, a myth.
In my youth, I kept refusing. In shame, in shyness. In denial.
In my maturity, I kept saying no, and I lied. I gave excuses. I ran. I hid.

You kept asking, every single year even if I gave you a negative answer.
("I can't." "A friend is getting married, he's from Osaka." "My father asked me to come home. "I have stuff to do." "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry.")
You always looked at me with a bright smile, and a shook of your head.
("I will ask you again next year, ne?")
You've always been like this. And it's the part I love of you the most.



Our band kept changing, every year, evey month and day and hour and minute. We changed as we breathed and we talked, as we discussed. Every yell was an improvement, every growl as a step forward and I was so proud, so blinded by sucess and Europe and albums and my life was so full of music and melodies that I've never noticed, because you never told me.

It seemed like any other normal event, we would go to drink, the five of us, and you would get very drunk. It wasn't something surprising, we all knew dealing with alcohol wasn't one of your strong points. But there was something different in you, something broken, and it seemed you were unable to hide it and the sadness, the fustration kept coming from you in heavy waves, and when I walked to you, ready to leave, your eyes were cloudy and teary, and for the first time since I knew you, I looked at you like I didn't know you at all.
I think you noticed and in your drunkness, you tried to get up and stumbled and fell and when i catch you, i felt your sob against my throat.

"I can't take this anymore."

Your words were stronger than a punch, and sharp as a knife. I managed to get you out of that place. You still leaning against me, your sobs against my skin, your tears wetting my clothes. Nothing seemed like there was anything wrong.
You wasted, myself taking care of you. It was like it'd always been, like it will always be.
But it seemed so wrong to me.

Your tears didn't stop, not even in the cab, not even when we moved to my apartment, not even in my elevator, not even on my couch, while I kept trying to take a hold of your hand, pleading you to breath, to relax, to talk to me.
Please talk to me.

In the end, your tears dried and you fell asleep on the couch.
When you woke up the next morning, you were feeling like shit, but you said nothing about your tears and I never asked.
I guess I didn't want to know.
I was too scared to know.




A few weeks later, you asked me again.
"Do you want to come to Nagano with me?"

And for the first time since we knew each other. I didn't refuse. I didn't say no, I didn't lie, I didn't give you an excuse. I stayed, I didn't run. I nodded, I didn't hide. I didn't say sorry.
"I would love to."

Your mouth opened into a perfectly shaped O, but you were so happy you started babbling about plans, and your family and Nagano's food and a lakes and things I didn't know a fuck about.




And this is where we are, a few months later after your breakdown and your question.
Nothing was mentioned again and as far as I know, you never broke down like that. My worries somehow stopped, but I kept an eye of you, and even if I don't want to say it was the main reason, that was why probably I followed you here, to Nagano.
I can't remember the last time I've been there, but I didn't remember this place to be so beautiful. You were born here, after all. But the sun shines so bright and everything is surrounded by green, and it's water everywhere. And your smile is the brightest as you're telling me stories about your childhood, your youth.
And I'm so happy to be here.
You talked the most about lakes and that's where awe are now. You told me a story about this one involving your high school years and a friend and the cold water in winter, but I was too lost in how the drops of water seemed to shine on your naked skin like diamonds; and you're sitting next to me, halfnaked, wet and absoltuely happy, your feet are still inside the lake, and you keep moving them up and down and creating waves.

"Let's go swim."
I say, and you turn around, your plam pressed flalty against the wood, between us. You look slightly surprised and beautiful, and I have to chuckle. I'm still dressed and I can't swim and there isn't anything else in the world that makes me more uncomfortable than undressing, and then swimming, and then possibly drowning. But something tells me that I just have to. That kind of feeling you have, that starts in the deep of your stomach, like when you're about to kiss someone you like for the first time. When I'm with you, I get this feeling a lot.

You laugh, freely and in your child-like glee you're jumping inside the water, creating a splash that makes me curse, while I'm getting up. I take off my t-shirt first, my watch, my sunglasses. And I stay in the edge of the wooden platform, just in pair of dark swimtrucks, scared and amazed at the same time.
You're looking at me from the water, both of your arms resting on the platform too, waiting.
I wish I could say something to you, but in the end, I think you understand.

"I'm scared of falling." My eyes say.
"I will catch you." Your smile promises.

"I don't want to drown." My hands exclaim, closing into fists.
"I will pull you up." Your own hand says, as it closes around my ankle.

I take a shaky breath and I build enough courage for jumping, even if I know it's far from being as perfect and graceful as your own jump was. And suddenly there's water everywhere, and I feel it through my fingers and I open my eyes and everything is a shade of blue I thought I've forgotten it existed.
You used to have a ring like this, you.
My eyes are still opened and my arms are moving and I start thinking that maybe this is the first state of drowning. And for a reason I'm anything but scared.
But soon there's a hand around my wrist and long legs around my body and the thing I know next is that you're pulling me up, until our heads are above the water and you're panting, and your long eyelashes are pitch black and your lips are reddened and you're so beautiful that I get that feeling again, and I have to lean forward to kiss you because I know you won't let me go, because you anchor me down.
I don't know for how longer we were in the lake, kissing and laughing and attempting to swimming and failing and drowning and emerging from the water all the time.
When we're finally outside the lake, and going to your car, we're still wet and we're worn out, but this is the best time I've had in so long.

As you dry your hair with a towel you say something about the time and how your mother wants us to attend dinner on time and that we have to hurry.
We get dry and changed inside your car, which is filled with your nasty jokes and a jokingly blowjob proposition.
Obviously, we're late to the dinner, and your mother scolds you.

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