~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kazunari blinks.

His eyes sweep around the large ballroom once, and then twice. He can hear himself breathing; each breath which escapes his parted lips rebounds back to him. Reaching up a quivering hand, he strokes the soft fabric of the mask he dons. Kazunari smiles wistfully. He can not see his mask; the world sees only his mask. The smile turns into a grimace underneath the painted face.

An expensive suit hangs loosely off of his small frame, and the tips of a black bowtie stand up erectly against his stiff collar. He brushes off the invisible dust on his shoulder and looks to the crowd.

Long, elegant gowns of different colors tentatively brush the polished ground. The women hold themselves high with pride. Masks of all varieties veil their faces; some are painted with exotic gold and silver streaks while others remain white but adorned with numerous accessories. Each one has been sculpted carefully, made to fit the owner perfectly. The men laugh courteously at the ladies’ jokes. Occasionally, one reaches up to tap his mask, as if making sure that it is still in place. Their figures, too, are dressed in classy tuxedos with a handsome bowtie.

Kazunari is snapped out of his reverie when the orchestra beings their selection of music for the night. He watches the performers with a careful eye. Surprised, he raises an eyebrow at the faceless violinists. They lack eyes, a mouth, and a nose. Looking closer, Kazunari notices that no members of the orchestras have any facial characteristics. Blank, white faces show no emotion. Their heads are tilted down slightly, as if they are looking at their precious instruments. Arms make minimalistic movements, dragging the bow with as little effort as possible.

The people in the ballroom bow to one another and pair up with the opposite sex. Each man finds himself an elegant woman and takes her hand gently. Their feet stand poised, and their masks stare at one another.

Kazunari is captured in an awed silence by himself. By an instinctive cue, everyone begins to dance. The ends of stunning gowns whisper secrets to the ground as they swish this way and that with the women’s bodies. Men lead the way in this slow, ballroom dance. Their steps are sure and coated with a quiet incentive. Palms rest modestly on the waists of ladies and the shoulders of gentlemen. Each pair of dancers laces their fingers together with their spare hands.

On the mellow beat of the music, the dancers turn their head in a single motion to look at the ground before continuing onto a spiral turn of the ladies. The gentlemen extend their arms, and the ladies spin out with the motion. With their hands still clasped firmly, the leaders pull the submissive back to them and hold them in a loose embrace. Kazunari watches the dance continue, holding his breath when a soft, single beam of light appears. It shines down from the ceiling, and envelops the dancers in a heavenly glow.

The beautiful and alluring dance continues.

Kazunari wonders who is dancing behind those perfectly constructed masks. He imagines the sins etched on their faces and the lies embedded within their eyes. The pure, exquisite visage is a pathetic attempt at beauty, he thinks. Why do these people insist on covering themselves with such a thick curtain? Kazunari asks himself this question as he looks on.

The music slows to an end, dying out with a trembling tone held in the last voice of a viola. Women curtsey, pulling out their dresses ever so slightly, and the men bow, holding an arm in front of their abdomen.

A clock strikes monotonously in the distance, and the dance is over.

Two couples stare at each other (Kazunari thinks that there is a longing, yearning feeling in their eyes), and hesitantly, they grasp the edges of their masks with their fingers and disarm themselves. Their faces are exposed to the cruelty of the world. One by one, the rest of the dancers in the ballroom bare themselves as well. The orchestra players have disappeared into nothing but shadows of dust. Kazunari notices that the single source of light has now been illuminated into the radiance of multiple chandeliers.

Tears cloud in the owner of the most beautiful mask’s eyes, and his mouth is twisted in a horrid frown. The keeper of the simplest mask in the room has a pleasant smile on her pretty face, and she smoothes down the newly formed wrinkles in her dress.

Gone are the painted smiles of the perfect masks. They are replaced with the honest, crumbling sobs or genuinely content grins. Kazunari watches this change of character with a pang of fear in his heart. Everyone has shown their true selves to the walls of the ballroom.

But not him.

They turn to stare to stare at the lone man, and Kazunari refuses the urge to back up into a corner. He keeps in the cry of despair, and instead, moves his hands to reach for the mask situated on his face. His fingers paw momentarily at his cheeks.

His mask is not there.

Or is it? The question flies through his mind like a shooting star.

Pieces of a once-existent façade cling to his pale skin. He can feel the fragments of a glass mask with the tips of his fingers. Shattered pieces and soft skin are side by side, just sitting on his face to be touched delicately in fear.

Seconds pass, and soon, Kazunari can not tell his real face from his mask. In silent horror, he realizes that he has merged with an unfamiliar image of himself. The smile which sits dauntingly on his face can not be described as genuine or fake; he simply doesn’t know if it is true to his self. Tears, which can be established as neither honest nor fraudulent, streak down his mixed mask. He lets out a scream which only he can hear within himself. It echoes painfully in his throbbing heart.

A woman approaches him with slow, but sure, steps. She smiles, but even in his confused state, Kazunari can feel a dash of falseness in it. He can not see her eyes for she is lacking the orbs which are described as a “window to a person’s soul.” Only a crafty smile sits on her flawless face. She lifts her hand, reaches for his face, and strokes his cheek. The fragments are pulled from Kazunari’s face, and they disappear into the diminishing light.

The last thing Kazunari can see before it goes completely dark is a kind smile.

And then a sneer.

He wakes with a start, his body shuddering with one big gasp of air.

“Nino?” he hears from the other side of the bed. Kazunari looks over hesitantly. Before his gaze connects with hers, he pushes all traces of any emotions out of his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” Kazunari asks quietly, not wanting to disrupt the tranquility of the early morning. She laughs kindly, and her eyes are alight with something unknown.

“I should be asking you that.” She combs a hair through her light brown hair, staring at him expectantly. Kazunari shifts his eyes to the rest of his bedroom, pushing down an awkward chuckle when he sees their clothes strewn about the floor messily.

“Nothing, Masami,” he whispers. His legs shuffle underneath the thin cotton sheets, and he readjusts his body into a more comfortable position. “Go back to sleep,” Kazunari mutters shyly. He hears a gentle laugh before feeling a small hand entangle its fingers with his. Slowly, he turns his head to look at her. “Sorry I woke you up.” He kisses her forehead lightly and grips her hand tighter.

Before she falls asleep again, the same crafted smile of the woman at the imaginary masquerade ball sits on her pink lips. The same falseness lies painted on her expression.

Nino falls asleep before he can imagine the sneer that he knows will come eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stephanie stared at the tall building which loomed over her small five year old figure ominously. Taking a peek into the intimidating daycare center, her small eyebrows came together in worry. The place looked filled with explosive energy from the children inside. She took a frightened step backwards in fear, only to be pushed forward by her mother.

“We’ll pick you up before bedtime, so be a good girl!” she coaxed gently. Being the good child she was, Stephanie let out a small whimper and pushed the door open.

“Hi there!” Turning to see a frightening looking man, Stephanie nearly let out a scream of terror. With a shaved head and stressed smile, the male caretaker waved at her enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you. I’m Koki-sensei!” he exclaimed exuberantly. Stephanie eyed him warily; he looked more like a Mexican yankee rather than a caretaker. Almost running away from the scary man, Stephanie let him behind so he could converse with her mother.

The girl turned this way and that, inspecting the indoor playground like a mouse in new surroundings. Bright yellow slides adorned the corners, and foam toys were thrown around in excitement. Before she could survey the area any further, three boys rushed past her, almost knocking her onto her feet.

“Watch where you’re going!” a chubby child screamed at her. Stephanie refused the urge to snort at his make-shift cape, which in reality was nothing more than a blanket that looked as if it was trying to suffocate the fat on his wide neck. Instead, she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the boy.

He seemed to erupt with anger at the gesture, his cheeks flaming red. Right as her was about to speak, another boy cut him off.

“Nice one, girl!” He laughed jubilantly, pointing a scrawny finger at the self-appointed king of the playground. “Jin, you deserved that!” he snickered into his palm. The chubby boy, Jin, screeched in repulse.

“Be quiet, Nino! You’re just jealous of my cape.” Jin stroked the red cloth affectionately, as if it meant the world to him. “You shut up and go back to training your pokemon,” he sneered rudely. Nino, a short and thin child, gaped with shock.

“Don’t insult Nino, you fat BAKANISHI!” another voiced. This time, Jin really did scream out loud, making Stephanie flinch from the high pitch. Tears clouded the young boy’s eyes quickly, hurt gracing his chubby features. Fortunately for him, one of his friends spoke up for him.

“Jun-kun, Jin is neither an idiot nor does he deserve that nickname. He may be fat, but he is certainly not stupid,” he concluded calmly and maturely. Stephanie could hear the sound of applause at the small announcement, some clearly impressed with his advanced vocabulary.

“It’s MARIO, not pokemon!” Nino wailed before storming away to a play structure, sitting at the bottom of it while fuming silently. The boy with big words smirked, proud of the attention and silent victory. Jin had a bright, arrogant smile settled on his face.

“Yamapi just wants to be a smarty pants! He actually likes PINK.”

This exclamation started a war within the center, locating Stephanie in the midst of it all.

“Stop trying to be cool, Jun-kun!” “Kame, get off me!” “Ow! Don’t throw books at me, Sakurai!” “Koki-sensei!!! Tegoshi won’t stop harassing me with his Barbie’s hair spray!” and the loudest of them all, “Massu is the fatty! Not me!”

Trying to keep her tears at bay in the middle of the excitement and violent actions, Stephanie forcibly elbowed her way out of the chaos. Once out of the majority of immature children, she ran to a discarded play house and hid inside. Stephanie curled herself up into a ball, bringing her knees up to her chest. Before she could control it, tears were streaming down her full cheeks. Helpless whimpers escaped her throat as the clamber of the war ensued.

She wanted her mom to come back. She wanted all the stupid boys to shut up and stop fighting. She wanted the Mexican yankee to do something, gosh darn it.

Stephanie shook her head and felt her pigtails bounce with the force. Tears dropped onto the overalls which hugged her tiny frame comfortably. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of her stuffed bear at home and her mother’s warm smile. But no matter how hard she thought, the harsh insults from the boys continued to bombard her ears.

“Mommy…” she cried quietly, wiping at her wet eyes pitifully.

Suddenly, there was a warm hand on her shoulder. Looking up through her tears, Stephanie could make out a shy, kind smile. When her vision cleared, she noticed the boy had a sleep but nonetheless reassuring expression. Crooked teeth poked through his pouty smile, and his chubby cheeks were lifted with the grin.

He quietly handed her a napkin and murmured, “Dry your eyes. It’s okay now.” A pretty blush spread over his tan cheeks. Stephanie took the soft paper wordlessly, entranced by the boy’s cute features. She dabbed the tissue at her eyes, surprised to find that the tears were diminishing rather quickly. “This place gets crazy,” he mumbled to her.

She found that she had to strain to hear his voice; it was a quiet melody which eased her ears. Her lips seemed shut tight, for she couldn’t force out any words. However, the boy looked as if he understood, and took a seat right next to her. Stephanie felt her cheeks color and her heart flutter with his contact. His body was heated with an inviting warmth, letting her subconsciously lean towards it.

Without thinking twice, Stephanie laid her head on his small shoulder and closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath, losing herself in innocent bliss.

This boy was nice, she thought. And he was cute. She giggled to herself silently, content that she had found someone to spend the rest of her day with. Feeling his short brown hair tickle her ear, Stephanie moved closer to him. She could hear his muffled laughter, the vibrations traveling from his chest to hers.

“You know Nino?” he started. “He’s really a kind person. He’ll share his lunch with me, even though he doesn’t always have enough for himself. Sho-kun, he’s the smartest out of all of us. He had to take an entrance exam to get into preschool.” Peeking though her eyelashes, Stephanie could see the sincere awe located on his face. “Jun-kun, the one who defended Nino, I think he’s the nicest person in the whole world. He’ll always notice when someone’s down, and he’ll give them his red crayon, the only one in this playground.” The boy stopped to laugh before continuing. “Aiba-chan, I don’t think he’s here today, but if he was here, he would be trying to stop this stupid fight.”

Stephanie watched him talk, smiling fondly as his expression softened with appreciation and love. Even with her innocent eyes, she could tell he truly cared about some of the kids in the play center. Maybe if they were as kind as he said they were, than this place might not be so bad. She wanted to trust the boy, and so she did. She continued to leave her eyes on him, tilting her head with a question as he took out a drawing pad.

He pulled a few crayons out of his back pocket and put the color to paper. The boy was quickly lost in his work, working at lines and faces. He possibly worked for fifteen minutes; he could’ve worked for three hours. Stephanie watched him intently, her eyes never leaving him for a second. She either examined his concentrated face or his artful hands.

She’d never seen someone her age so skillful at art. Even though the drawing was no more than two stick figures and a circle with spikes coming out of it, it seemed detailed and exquisite. Hesitantly, Stephanie opened her mouth to speak and pointed at one of the people he was drawing.

“Is that…me?” She could recognize the blue eyes and brown hair as her own, held in two tight pigtails similar to the ones she had. The boy turned to her, surprised, as if he had forgotten she was there, before breaking out into a shy smile. He nodded once and returned back to his art. “And is…that you?”

He suddenly stood up, signifying that he had finished his masterpiece. A brighter smile now graced his lips, confidence brimming. The boy handed it to Stephanie, his facial expression reflecting that he was waiting for her comments.

Having the full view of the piece, Stephanie felt her jaw drop open. There was her, and there was the boy. A roof stood above their heads, possibly the one hanging above them at the moment. Smiles were on both of their faces, but her eyes were slightly stained with red. Next to the house, there were a few words written. Looking at it sideways, Stephanie felt an embarrassing blush spread over her face. He’d written, “Dry your eyes” with a smiley face next to it.

“You can’t really smile if you have wet eyes, you know?” he said sheepishly, avoiding her eyes. “A-and you look pretty when you smile.” He fidgeted with his hands shyly, his lips curving up slightly.

“Really?” Stephanie wondered aloud, surprised by the flattery.

“Yeah. The prettiest I’ve ever seen,” he whispered quietly. She smiled; even though he wasn’t very audible with his compliments, they meant more than anything anyone had ever said to her.

“Stephanie, honey?” The echo of her mother’s voice reached her. But she didn’t want to go! she thought hurriedly. She wanted to stay here with the boy with sleepy eyes and kind words. The boy seemed to notice her look of recognition at the name, his face falling momentarily. He didn’t want his new friend to leave either. “Stephanie?” the voice came again. Stephanie exited the small play house slowly, the boy right behind her.

“Yes, mommy?” Her mother’s face lit up at the sight of her child.

“It’s time to go home, hun,” the parent stated happily. She approached the girl quickly, taking her hand like usual. “You ready to leave?”

Stephanie looked helplessly at the boy, her eyes clouding with tears once more. This time, he seemed to struggle with his sadness with her being taken away from him. Water was streaming down her cheeks, startling her mother. The boy forced out a choked laugh, not wanting to cry. He pasted a shaky smile on his face, his eyes watering already.

“Oi,” he said playfully. And before he could say his next sentence, Stephanie said it for him.

“What are you crying for?” she asked, her voice shaking with an awkward giggle. “Dry your eyes!” Her fist tightened on his picture which she still held. “C-can I keep this?”

Surprised, the boy nodded enthusiastically. He watched her mother laugh, probably with the thought of childish infatuation.

“Ready?” she asked her daughter, only to have a tentative nod. The small girl sent the kind boy one last smile, wiping at her eyes. She wanted to leave him with dry eyes, so he knew that she would be okay in the future. He beamed happily back at her, watching until she disappeared beyond the door.

Once she was gone, the boy laughed at himself.

“What are you doing, Ohno?” he asked to the air. “She told you to dry your eyes, didn’t she?”

Jun looks around in awe, wondering how he got on this luxurious cruise ship. Staring at the awkwardly shy face of Aiba, the boy knows this group has a long way to go. He wonders if he’ll ever be a sempai which everyone will look up to; Jun giggles at the thought of being the next Kimura Takuya. He quickly kicks himself mentally, telling himself to snap back to reality. Jun casts an uneasy glance at Ninomiya, who’s playing his gameboy in the corner of the room. The other boy looks up uninterestedly, nearly dead eyes glaring back.

Jun shivers and averts his eyes. That’s right. They’ve still got a long way to go.

Blink.

In the back stage of their concert, three members are relaxing after a long series of performances. Jun lets his form sink into the warm couch offered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Exhaustion coats his muscles, and pain creeps into his bones slowly but surely. He rubs at his shoulder, massaging out a small knot.

Even as he’s cherishing the small moments of peace and relaxation, Jun is still amazed that two of their members still have the energy to run, much less act idiotic on stage. He can hear the audience’s laughter from the concert venue, and he knows that they’re trying their best to liven up the mood. Looking at the small television screen, Jun shakes his head in amusement as he watches Ohno carry Nino in his arms, bridal-style. He rolls his eyes when the gamer touches the other man’s sensitive spot.

He knows that the two are close, possibly closer than any of the other members. But still, he can not understand the skinship between them. Jun submits to another sigh, shaking away any thoughts of jealousy.

Stretching, he stands up and makes his way to the stage once more.

Blink.

It was a rare thing to be bored these days. Jun lets his eyes roam over each member in the green room, watching them lost in their own thoughts. He looks into the mirror, examining his face closer than ever before. Frowning, he can see the shadows of wrinkles near his eyes. Several blemishes cover his skin, and he knows that he has the worst complexion out of the group. Even so, he has the most memorable and stunning features.

Jun glares at the small pimple adoring his forehead and tries to cover it up with his newly cut bangs.  His looks have changed. From the awkward cute teenager, he’s flourished into one of the most handsome men in the country. Of course Jun will never admit it to himself; he acknowledges the fact that there are better people, more fit for the word “handsome.” Leaving one last scowl at the pimple, Jun looks over at Nino next to him.

With smooth complexion and stunning smiles, Jun thinks Nino is more handsome than he is. Crafty eyes, a pointed nose, and decorative moles make the magician much more worthy of the adjective. But even so, the gamer still looks the same as when they’d debuted. Jun allows the silhouettes of jealousy enter his heart, because he knows there is no point in resisting.

However, when Nino looks at him, Jun can see the remains of pain and regret in his sharp eyes. Fragments of hurt flicker across the man’s pupils before disappearing into a masked grin.

“Something wrong?” Nino asks, a smile which is sure to be slightly fake lifting the edges of his curved lips. Jun frowns minutely, and then shakes his head. He is lying, and he knows Nino knows he’s lying. He gets up out of his chair, disliking the feel of Nino’s understanding gaze on his back.

Maybe there is no need to be jealous, Jun thinks.

Blink.

Tears of frustration prick the edges of his eyes. Jun fists his hands tightly, not wanting the droplets of water to fall. But like everything else, they don’t listen to him and trail down his cheeks. He pounds his fists on the rough concrete, ignoring the ripping sting through the sides of his palms.

He manages to let a small scream erupt from his mouth before closing himself into silence. For the first time in what feels like forever, Jun curls himself up into a ball and sits in the corner of the dark room. Out of self mockery and lack of comfort, he rocks himself back and forth like a child. He knows that no one will come for him; he doesn’t really want anyone to, either. He closes his eyes, wondering if he will disappear into nothing if he continues to sit there.

The skin on his face begins to tighten with the salt from his tears. Discomfort beings to settle on his outer being, as if the inner pain isn’t enough. Exhaustion that isn’t the usual grasps his heart, and Jun resists the urge to choke on nothing. The oxygen is not what he needs, for he feels as if he is suffocating. A feeling of loneliness falls like a curtain call, chilling and warming him simultaneously.

Jun knows and hates the fact that even though he sits still, time is swirling around him faster and faster. He is losing in the race against time, and the willpower to struggle for a victory is nonexistent. As he continues to cry, Jun can almost feel the growing wrinkles and weakening bones. He wants his youth, his innocence, and his time back. It is useless to want, he knows. The hunger for the past will only hurt him more, but that can not stop the painful thoughts.

Suddenly, there is a warmth of another body next to his. A hand rests on his shoulder, and a small, encouraging smile glows at him. Jun does not need to look up to know who it is. The silent breathing and understanding is enough.

“Let’s go,” Nino whispers comfortingly. Jun doesn’t budge, only wrapping his arms tighter around his knees. He doesn’t care if he’s being selfish; he knows Nino will understand.

And he does.

Nino sits down next to him and waits patiently for Jun to look up at him. Hours pass without a movement, except for the sigh of Jun’s body relaxing into Nino’s. Nino waits. Jun waits. Nino waits for Jun to be ready to move towards tomorrow. Jun waits for the past to come, even though it will not.

Just before he falls asleep, Jun wonders why he can’t be as strong as Nino and feels the familiar pangs of jealousy eat away at his stomach. He is not mad, however, and thinks that the jealousy will only help to make himself stronger.

Blink.

She has no right, Jun screams in his mind. Who let her stomp all over Nino’s heart and leave him shattered? Jun has half of a mind to stomp to her house and rip all of her hair out. He shakes his head; the anger will not get him anywhere. But when he sees the annoyingly fake and obviously shaky smile on Nino’s face, he can not get rid of the burning feeling in his chest.

He will not say anything, for he knows that Nino doesn’t want him to. Words aren’t enough to heal him, and there is the possibility that he doesn’t want to be healed. Jun knows that Nino wants to get out of this himself, so he leaves the man be. He watches helplessly as the gamer lays his head in Aiba’s quiet embrace, wanting to be the tall, lanky man for once in his life. It is no time for jealousy, but Jun believes that Nino feels the same burn he does right now. The feeling is uncomfortable and full of hatred, but it continues to remain for the rest of the week.

One day, Jun sees her walking on the street with her alleged new “catch”. Without a second thought, he makes his way toward her and her boyfriend. He sticks out his leg jerkily in front of her, making her trip clumsily and ungracefully. Jun nearly runs away, stopping only until he passes the corner of a shop. Turning around, he can hear her wailing about her broken heel from where he stands. He snickers evilly, thinking that she was nowhere near good enough for Nino. He chastises himself, knowing he is in no position to be deciding who Nino should love.

Apparently, the evil prank is not enough to get rid of the jealousy.

Blink.

Jun can’t find the need or want of power to force words out of his mouth. Before he can, Nino pushes him against the wall and captures his lips in a light kiss.

As fast as the kiss happens, it disappears. Jun watches Nino walk away, most likely embarrassed. He is jealous that he did not have the power to make the first move. The tingle of Nino’s lips on his still exists, and it is enough to make Jun’s knees go weak. Jealousy is only a syndrome of love, Jun decides.

Jun is jealous of Nino for a lot of things.

He smiles and pushes himself off the wall slowly. He must love the gamer a lot then. Happiness bubbles up in his chest, the clichéd butterflies flying in his stomach. Walking the way Nino did, Jun ignores the small skip in his step.

Jealousy is not a bad thing.

Chapter Eighteen: The Edge

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let’s get through this,

is what you told me.

I nodded my head and smiled.

If only life was that simple and elegant.

_________________________________________

Did he really care anymore? Was he even supposed to give a damn? He didn’t know anything, now did he?

No. Not a fucking single thing.

Nino followed Jun wordlessly on the sidewalk, hands numb at his side. He was exhausted. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to be anywhere but there. He wanted to run away. He wanted everything to stop. He wanted to go back in time. He wanted the truth.

He wanted to stop wanting so much.

“Where should we go, do you think?”

Nino had half a mind to ignore Jun and give him the cold shoulder. His lips moved by their own accord, however, and gave a polite and calm answer.

“Anywhere you want,” Nino heard himself say. Jun merely gave a small smile and a hum of understanding. It was getting near sunset; Nino didn’t have enough strength to prepare himself for the rest of the day’s events. His heart thumped hollowly but surely inside of his chest. He watched the concrete disappear underneath his steps, only to blend into black asphalt. Looking up, Nino realized that Jun was calling a taxi for them.

Nino climbed in after Jun, settling himself into the soft seat of the car. The air conditioner cooled the accumulating sweat on his forehead. Its steady hum and the radio were the only sounds in the small cab. Nino watched Jun with little interest; the man only looked out of the window, bored. The actor hadn’t heard their destination, too occupied in his dreary thoughts.

His thoughts would get him nowhere; Nino was already aware of that fact. Quite the opposite, they would only make him feel worse and weaker than he already was. But they were the only thing he had, the only constant companions when everything else left or was broken. A good hour passed him in silence, both men not feeling in the mood to strike up conversation.

As the sun was finally letting its last rays of light shine over the horizon, the taxi came to a stop. Jun pulled out a wad of bills without hesitation and handed it to the driver. He made his way out of the car, Nino following dutifully.

Looking up, the sun was starting to bleed with blue and purple, tentative streaks of orange and red running across the sea.

The sea.

Nino’s stomach instinctively churned at the sight of waves and murky water. His shoes were beginning to sink into the sand, leaving imprints that would surely be blown away.

“You wanted to go to the beach, Jun-kun?” he asked, his voice barely above a murmur. Maybe he’d taken him here because he detested the sea so much. He didn’t know what to make of Jun. The model ignored him pointedly, leading him to a small cliff off to the side. The two climbed higher and higher, sand giving way to sturdy rock. Gusts of wind began to blow more fiercely, forcing Nino to squint his eyes against it.

When they reached the top of it, Nino’s feet ached from the uneven bumps of the hill and climb. He leaned back on a tall rock to catch a better breath, his back slumping.

‘Apparently we’re not eating dinner,’ he noted dully. It was fine with him; he wasn’t hungry. ‘Way to plan a date, Matsumoto.’ He was sarcastic with himself, his mental tone lined with sleepiness. His eyes were tempted to drift close, but Nino kept them open with small effort.

Spread out in front of him was a large area of stone which lead to a small point at the cliff’s edge. The wind grew stronger with each breeze, causing Nino’s clothes to flap violently against his skin. His hair whipped against his face a bit painfully, but he easily ignored the sting. Nino was more interested in Jun, who was still standing still in the middle of the area.

“Truth,” Jun started loudly, “or dare, Nino?”

Nino stared in confusion, tilting his head.

“What?” he asked for clarification.

“Truth or dare?” Jun repeated, kicking at a stray rock in the ground. Nino could barely hear him over the howling wind which echoed in his ears. He wondered how Jun could possibly stay so calm and collected when the gusts of air felt like they were going to knock him over to his feet.

“T-truth,” Nino said hesitantly. Jun stared at him with a piercing gaze, causing shivers to run up Nino’s spine that weren’t caused by the wind.

“Would you like to know the truth?”

It was a simple question. It was the question Nino had asked himself night after night ever since he’d come home to Japan.

“Yes.”

Was it his mind or heart that had spoken? Nino honestly didn’t know for the life of him.

Jun smiled predatorily, teeth poking out from behind his lips.

“Follow me then.”

‘To where? We’re on the top of a cliff.’ Nino’s question was answered quickly as his eyes followed Jun. Slowly and deliberately, Jun made his way closer and closer to the edge of the rock. Nino froze, his heart stopping rather painfully. Jun couldn’t possibly be telling him to stand on the edge.

“Scared?”

Nino couldn’t tell if it was himself asking or Jun. Without thinking, Nino caught up to Jun quickly, feeling the rock getting thinner underneath the soles of his shoes.

“Can you see over the edge yet, Nino?” Jun asked him calmly from their spot which was still a meter away from the edge. Stretching his eyes, Nino could barely see the tips of dark, moist sand.

“Barely,” he answered shakily, his hands trembling against his thighs. The wind screamed in his ears, Jun’s voice barely making it through to him.

“Have you ever fallen, Nino?”

Nino’s mouth ran dry at the sudden question. Sure, he’d fallen off a swing when he was five years old, and also off his bike as a teenager. But those obviously wouldn’t count.

“N-no. I haven’t.” Nino hated how his voice sounded weak and fragile, but ironically, that was how he felt inside. He felt his strength being blown away by the wind and taken hostage in Jun’s sharp stare. His eyes and feet followed Jun take a couple more steps closer to the edge. Every move his body made was not of his brain’s choice; by chance, was it his heart which now decided his fate? The stars twinkled above the two, watching this scene with amused turns.

“Everyone else in Arashi has. So, would you like to tell me why you haven’t?” Jun said as if he was telling him the time of day. He took another step forward, smiling as Nino followed suit.

Nino’s jaw was slack with confusion, and his stomach lurched as he could now see the rolling waves underneath him. The sea had become a large black moving force which would devour everything that fell into it. Were tears stinging his eyes? Or was that sand?

“I…don’t know, Jun-kun.” Nino felt his throat slowly closing in on itself, making it harder and harder to speak. Jun gave a laugh full of disbelief and amusement to the wind, letting it be carried off to the heavens.

“Are you that stupid?”

Another step.

“The answer’s quite obvious.”

Another step.

“It’s right in front of you, Nino.”

Jun was nearly standing on the edge now, the tips of his shoes hanging off the rock. Nino watched with fearful and helpful eyes. One more step and Jun would be off the cliff, most likely falling to the jagged and pointed rocks on the beach below them.

“Follow me, and I’ll tell you,” Jun whispered. It was a miracle that Nino was able to hear him. Flying off into the night wasn’t an option, but running was. His feet were nailed the ground, his body swaying back and forth with the wind. “Do you know how easy it is,” Jun smiled leisurely, “to fall over the edge?”

Nino opened his mouth and then closed it. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? Even his heart could not help him now.

His true self was being extracted out of himself. You could always be taught to love someone, hate someone, respect someone, Nino’d believed. Environment and guidance made your being who it was, and your morals were shaped by the way you were taught. After society was done with you, there was only a little part left that would truly be yourself.

So what decision would his true self make?

Nino was frightened and shocked as his feet moved forward, joining Jun at the edge. He could see the points of sharp rocks at the bottom, waves creating a white, foamy ring around them. With a single move, both of them could be spiraling downwards to death.

It was the first time Nino had ever been scared of death.

Jun leaned into Nino, his mouth nestled right next to the actor’s ear. Nino shivered uneasily at feeling Jun’s familiar warmth.

“It’s your fault.”

Nino felt his heart drop into his stomach, as if breath had been captured by the wind. His body froze, his knees almost buckling.

“You made us fall.”

The urge to scream grabbed his throat, tearing at the insides of his lungs. Nino couldn’t seem to gasp for air, only staying in suspended silence.

“It’s your fault,” Jun repeated in sick pleasure. He brought up a finger to caress Nino’s lips. “Won’t you say something?” he continued, whispering as if he was telling a sweet secret to the older man. A mad fire ignited in Jun’s eyes, and Nino felt pangs of fear rip at his mind.

“Nino, why are you so cruel?” Jun mumbled with a sugary tone. “You left us, you know? You left us chasing after your back. You left us to our ruin.” With each whisper, Nino wanted more and more to fall over the edge. The wind pushed them back to the rock, however, as if wanting to keep both of them from falling.

Jun pulled away slowly, his scent sticking to Nino’s clothes. The actor was still frozen to the spot, the pupils in his eyes dilating.

“Ohno Satoshi,” Jun said, “Aiba Masaki, Matsumoto Jun, Sakurai Sho.” With each name, Jun brought up a finger. “That’s funny,” he remarked in a tone that wasn’t amused at all. “I thought that there were five members in Arashi.”

‘Stop,’ Nino whimpered in his mind. ‘Please just stop.’

“Guess I was wrong.”

Nino let out a quiet noise that sounded like a choke and a gasp. His hands gripped at the fabric of his jeans, assuring himself that he was still at the top.

‘The top.’

“As they say, the higher you climb, the harder you fall.” Jun took a miniscule step further, daring Nino to do the same. Nino couldn’t seem to break out of his frozen state, but Jun seemed content to leave him there. “Do you know what it’s like to see the people closest to you fall?” Jun chuckled, tossing his hair in the wind. “Not even fall. Shatter is more like it,” he murmured.

“That’s not true,” Nino whispered, barely audible. Jun turned to look at him.

“What did you say?” His tone was light and playful, as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

“That’s not true,” Nino repeated, louder. His eyes trembled, his vision not being able to focus on anything.

“Not true, Nino?” Jun laughed once before turning to him fully. Anger seemed to radiate off the model’s body, scaring Nino. “Not true? Not true?” Nino shook; he couldn’t feel anything at this point. “Look at the stars, Nino.”

Nino stayed in his spot, his eyes refusing to look up from the ground.

“I TOLD YOU TO LOOK,” Jun screeched in indignation. The model grabbed Nino’s chin harshly, forcing him to look up at the sky. Tears were beginning to prick the edges of his eyes, making the stars blurred. “That was us, Nino. That was us, but you ruined it.” Jun tightened his grip on Nino’s chin, the latter giving out a small cry of pain. “We fell, and I regret the fact that I couldn’t make you watch us fall.”

Jun ripped his hand from Nino’s skin, as if he burned him with his betrayal.

“Were you happy in America? Because I damn hope you were.”

Nino crumbled to the floor, his knee bouncing over the edge. He gripped at the rock, feeling its sturdiness underneath him.

“You know what I think about happiness?” Jun continued mercilessly, not caring that he’d already engraved his words into Nino’s memory forever. “No one can be happy without the pain of others. You could only achieve your status in America, without us may I remind you, because you let us fall.” Jun let out a bitter chuckle.

Nino stared hard at the rock, his mind turning over with new and old thoughts.

“I wasn’t hap-“

“Don’t you DARE tell me you weren’t happy in America, Ninomiya,” Jun yelled fiercely, promptly shutting up the actor. “Because that would mean that we were hurt and changed forever for nothing.” Nino watched the man tremble with anger and frustration. Tears spilled down the actor’s cheeks relentlessly, never once stopping after they began. It was a sin to be watching such a beauty become so full of hate and wrath.

And to think he caused it.

Nino shook his head repeatedly, trying to block out the thoughts which attacked his being.

“Do you know what you did?” Jun spat, all signs of playfulness gone. “Riida fell off our stage in a concert. He nearly destroyed his dancing career. Do you know why?”

Nino whispered to himself mentally, ‘because of me.’

“Maybe he was going hysterical, but he said that he saw you in the audience. He wanted to see you so fucking badly, he imagined you up. He tried to chase after you, and he fell. He could’ve died from the height of the stage.”

The actor’s eyes widened, tears streaming faster. The idea of falling was becoming clearer and more frightful by the second. His heart was pounding at a pace that might’ve cause his chest to explode.

“And that’s just the beginning,” Jun snarled. His left foot now was almost completely off the edge; he was balancing his weight carefully. “Aiba,” he said with a tint of regret to his voice. “Oh god, Aiba.” Jun had to pause because his throat was tightening painful with the thought of Aiba. He took a deep breath, not wanting to lose to the tears that were slowly gathering in his eyes. “He hated watching us drift apart. He wanted the past back. He wanted you back, Nino.” The tone in Jun’s voice caused Nino to let out a choked sob.

The two men fell into a momentary silence when Jun tried to collect himself. After a couple minutes of the howling wind, he continued.

“Why, Nino?” he asked helplessly. “Why did you have to ruin us? Why weren’t you happy with the way things were?” Jun’s voice was beginning to crack, and Nino struggled to hear him over the wind. Each word impaled him painfully, threatening to take the last of his sanity. “You don’t know how many times I’ve stood on this ledge and almost jumped,” Jun confessed, a caustic tear falling down to his cheek. There was another bitter chuckle from Jun. “There was only one thing that kept me from doing it though.”

Nino gulped, the answer pounding at his mind. ‘Me?’ he thought doubtfully.

“You,” Jun growled. “There was this belief that maybe you would come back and save us. Maybe you’d come back and make things right for us again.”

Nino bent over in pain, grabbing at his pulsating head.

“I waited for you, Nino.”

How was it possible for someone to sound so heartbroken and lost? Nino let out a strangled cry, not wanting to hear anymore. Jun’s voice penetrated strongly relentlessly.

“We all waited for you.”

Nino whimpered in pain, his eyes already bloodshot. He’d lost feeling, and he didn’t know if his heart was still pumping blood to the rest of his body.

“But you never came, so we fell even further because of our shattered beliefs.”

Jun cast one last look to the ocean which now was roaring and violent, similar to that of the wind. He sneered at Nino’s pathetic state, putting all of his weight back onto the rock. He walked away, ready to descend the cliff and leave.

“So I hope you’re happy when you go back to America now. There’s no one you could still possibly hurt.”

He turned and went down the side of the cliff, leaving Nino by himself, curled up on the edge of the rock.

‘Because there’s no one there for you to hurt anymore.’

Nino found it amusing that his own mind would complete Jun’s sentence. He lay there in silence and loneliness.

And he waited.

Whether it was for the past or tomorrow, Nino wasn’t quite sure yet.

Chapter 17: A Date with Perfection?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your tears and smile look the same.

The path that splits into two lead to the same destination.

The throbbing of pain and love feel the same.

The only difference in this world

is how our eternal love seemed to age.

__________________________________

Tense.

That was how Nino felt sitting at the table with the rest of Arashi.

The silence was tense. The muscles in his body were tense. The forced smiles were tense.

Nino wondered if he would ever regain the ability to feel, look forward to the future, and reach out his hand to others again. He wanted to throw away the emotions in his heart which made him fragile, weak, and pathetic. There was always a throbbing that assured him he was still alive and not dreaming a nightmare to deceive himself. Thoughts numb and painful floated into his conscious.

Numbness took over his body, shivers of instilled chills breaking out occasionally. He felt as if a hand was squeezing his chest tightly, trying to see how much pressure he could take before imploding within himself.

“Well I guess this is where we part.”

Nino’s head snapped up quickly, his neck cracking in an awkward position. He hadn’t noticed they’d already finished lunch, paid for the bill, and made their way outside of the building. Had his feet walked by their own will? His fingers trembled from an unspoken wish, and his eyes misted over with a confusion without a reason.

“I’ll have to go back to Zero for some work,” Sho muttered awkwardly. He brought up a hand to rub the back of his neck, eyes shifting from face to face. “We should do this some time again, yeah?”

‘Tense.’

The air stiffened with hesitancy and slight nods of heads. Sho gave a half-hearted smile so that the small lines that usually creased around his eyes didn’t appear. He gave a longer stare to Jun, an unreadable message flashing through his eyes before disappearing into masked cheerfulness. Raising a hand in a slight wave, he turned his back and walked away, merging with the small citizens of the city.

The four watched him with tired and helpless eyes, as if they tried to reach out, they wouldn’t be able to reach him.

“I’ll take my leave here, too, then,” Ohno mumbled.

“Because you have people waiting for you at home, don’t you, Riida?” Whether Jun’s question was meant to be malicious or not was lost in silence. Gritting his teeth, Ohno gave a mechanical nod along with a narrowed stare. “A daughter and a wife, I heard,” Jun continued on, looking at his nails absentmindedly and ignoring the growing tension.

“Yeah,” Ohno breathed uneasily. Nino looked at the older man, knowing that he wanted to leave already. “She’s not mine though.”

“Eh?” Nino and Jun asked in perfect synchronization. Aiba only cleared his throat in mild surprise.

“Reiko-chan,” Ohno said, shifting his feet on the ground awkwardly. “She’s not my child. She’s from Rika’s past lover.” Nino watched as Ohno’s hands fisted into a tight ball and raised his eyebrows in suspicion.

Ohno wasn’t the kind of person who would get jealous. Only…anger? seemed to show through his coffee eyes.

“Should we go together then, Riida?” Aiba offered kindly, tugging at the older man’s shirt sleeve like a small child. Ohno looked at Jun, turned his head to Aiba, and then nodded. A small, dim smile graced Aiba’s face. As they began to walk away together, Nino followed their backs until they disappeared into the crowd. Questions broke through his exhausted mind, penetrating his barriers of logic and resistance.

If Arashi had broken up as bitterly as he’d suspected, why did everyone still call each other with the customary nicknames? Why did Jun seem cold to the others? Why did he constantly attack Ohno? Why was he being left alone with Jun? Wasn’t Sho trying to keep him away from Jun?

‘What the fuck are they hiding?!’ Nino screamed inside his head painfully. Waves of sleepiness washed over his frustration, making the poor man sigh. Nothing made sense anymore. Nino just wanted to go back to America and forget that all this had happened. ‘But they’re family,’ Nino thought sullenly.

No matter what happened, Arashi was his family, and Nino couldn’t turn his back to them again. They’d stuck with him when he needed them; he would be nothing without them. He hadn’t enough strength or willpower to break away from the four familiar faces.  Strings tugged at his heart with guilt, causing Nino’s chest to reverberate in slight pain.

“Well then! Let’s go, Nino,” Jun said suddenly, startling the actor. Nino stared flabbergasted for a moment before recollecting himself.

“W-where?” Nino had half a mind to go back to his hotel and sleep, rather than staying with Jun and possibly learning the truth. ‘Since when were you ever scared of the truth? Poor weakling,’ a voice snarled.

Jun smiled like a Cheshire cat, his eyes squinting in some unknown pleasure. “How would you like to spend the rest of the day with me?” Nino fidgeted uncomfortably underneath his gaze.

‘A date with perfection, eh?’ he thought, deadpan with the idea. “Sure. Why not?” Nino shrugged casually, trying his best to ignore the way his heart seemed to pick up pace. Jun’s smile only grew.

“I know you couldn’t resist,” the model teased playfully, beginning to walk away. Checking his phone for the time, Nino’s eyes clouded with suspicion as it was quickly turning to four o’ clock. He chased after Jun briskly afterwards, catching up easily with the taller form.

‘I wonder what it’s like to have to run after someone and never be able to catch up to them.’

Nino felt frightened at the fleeting thought. Maybe he’d been the one to cause Arashi’s break up.

Chapter 16: Buying Time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heaven:

the only friend that will always be there for us;

Heaven:

the only place to run to when we’re tired of everything else.

____________________________________________

“Aren’t you thankful?”

‘No, I’m not.’

Nino paused at the question and at the thought which just flashed through his mind. What was happening to him? He felt as if he was falling deeper and deeper into the clutches of the core of humanity: blissful ignorance and greed for more knowledge. A scream seemed to scratch the insides of his throat, but the café echoed with the quiet clatter of glass plates. He stared at Jun for a moment, before his eyes fleeted to Aiba.

“Very,” Nino mumbled, his agreement barely making its way through the noise. His eyes were locked onto the taller man next to him. Aiba’s eyes gave way to no emotion; fear, anxiety, pain, and everything of the sort seemed to vanish from his world. He was merely blank and just the slightest bit surprised.

“Well,” Jun clapped his hands in what seemed as delight, “I’ve reserved a spot for us to eat lunch together. It’s not here of course.” His nose sniffed upright in indignation at the thought of eating at such a small and filthy place (which was in fact, not filthy and small at all). “Shall we leave then?”  Without stopping for an answer, Jun promptly exited the cafe, leaving the rest to trail after him.

Nino hung in the back of the group awkwardly.

‘This is just like middle school,’ he thought to himself dismally. Looking ahead, Sho and Ohno talked in near-silent tones, and Aiba started to approach Jun. ‘Aiba-san?’ Nino picked up his pace slightly so that he might hear their conversation.

Aiba and Jun now walked side by side, flashing smiles at one another. Nino could only detect the fake, polite ones, all of the genuine and friendly ones flying over his head. His ears perked up with great strain to try to catch their words.

“…came back…” Aiba’s voice foggily penetrated his thoughts.

“He doesn’t…”

“…don’t you…”

Nothing Nino picked up made any sense to him, but he suspected that they were talking about him anyways. Giving up, Nino turned his eyes to the sky, the summer blue paint covering any signs of clouds. Looking around, he felt as if he’d walked this same road before. He flipped through his memories of Japan quickly, finding not a hint of the semi-familiar street.

“Kanpai!”

Nino stopped awkwardly, the other four not noticing his jerked halt. His head pounded lightly with overflowing memories.

“Hey, we made it, Aiba-chan!”

“Yeah, no need to cry.”

“It’s three years, and we’re still here, huh?”

“Riida, you sound like you aren’t talking about yourself!”

“It’s really like a dream…”

“Our…third year anniversary?” Nino whispered aloud to himself. Seeing the group walk farther and farther away, he picked up his pace to a trot, not wanting to be left behind. The trees, concrete, and buildings seemed to wash over with the color of nostalgia and the scent of the past. Nino pumped his legs a bit faster, his heart racing more than it should have been. He wanted to reach out a hand and pull them back where he was forever living: the past. The future carried no meaning for him anymore; Nino just wanted to go back to when they were still young, together, and a group as one being.

His unspoken wish would never come true, partly because he would never speak it and partly because they wouldn’t be able to return to those times. Ohno’s familiar back finally became a bigger size, but it seemed stiff with tension. Slowing down, Nino looked at the four with suspicious eyes.

“Where were you?” Sho asked. “We were waiting for you here, you know?”

Nino wanted to yell at Sho, hit him, and ask him why he’d let Jun take all of them. Hadn’t he been against Jun this whole time?

“Sorry. I was…thinking,” Nino gritted through his teeth hesitantly.

But honestly, who was he to speak? Nino was the one who wanted to know the whole truth, and he knew that Jun was the only way to get it. So why was he so afraid? Why was he so irritated with the thought that Arashi was finally standing with one another again? His mind screamed with confusion and pain, contradicting thoughts battling each other fiercely.

“Nino, you okay?” Ohno’s comfortable murmur brought the actor out of himself.

‘This isn’t right,’ a voice whispered in Nino’s head. ‘Something’s wrong. It shouldn’t be like this.’ Nino couldn’t help but agree with the statement, “yeah” escaping his lips to answer Ohno’s question and to agree with the voice.

Finally noticing the large double doors in front of him, Nino realized that they were already at their destination. Jun opened the oak doors slowly, as if enjoying the creaking sound underneath his palms. The four followed him through the large building, their footsteps echoing in the empty building. Strange, that no one else would be here on a weekend. Nino tried to shrug off his suspicion, only wanting to go home at that point.

Where was his home?

‘Too many questions,’ Nino moaned in his head. They made their way to a small corridor, finding an escalator down.

“The restaurant’s underground?” Aiba asked, impressed. Jun clicked his tongue and nodded for an answer, holding his hand out to signify the others should go first.

Sho went first without any hesitation, stepping onto one of the gliding steps. Ohno was next, but he hesitated, his eyes shining with fear. He watched the steps go further and further down, their motion never stopping. Their path repeated smoothly.

“Scared you’re going to fall, Riida?” Jun almost sneered.

The nickname tagged at the back of the question seemed sticky with disdain and mockery. “It’s a long way down, isn’t it?” Ohno stared at Jun with so much ferocity that he thought his eyes were going to burn up and explode. Hints of contempt were hidden in the older man’s coffee eyes, but Jun showed no sign of backing down or fear on his face. “We’ll catch you if you fall,” Jun taunted irately.

Ohno curled his hands into tight fists, his fingernails digging painfully into his skin. His whole body trembled with unspoken anger, and his eyes were frozen on Jun’s disturbingly handsome face.

“Just like they did.”

Aiba grabbed Ohno’s wrist, stopping him from doing anything irrational. Sure, his hand was nowhere near Jun’s face, but it might as well be with the disgust flickering in his eyes. Jun’s whisper was still suspended in the air moments after, seeming to ward off all bitter feelings.

“Don’t, Oh-chan,” Aiba mumbled, putting his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. He tore the intensity from Jun and Ohno’s stare, and stepped onto the escalator, Ohno’s arm tightly locked in his own. Nino watched the two descend with helpless eyes.

Jun turned to look at the actor with a pleased gaze, as if the previous conversation hadn’t just occurred.

“After you, Mr. Hollywood!” Jun exclaimed jubilantly, almost bouncing off the heels of his feet.

Nino mutely stepped onto to the steps, letting them take him down to the restaurant. The need to know everything was now completely lost, exhaustion taking over its place. But questions still tickled the back of his mind, and new realizations still set in his thoughts.

He’d never once seen Ohno shake with anger like that. No, he’d never seen Ohno seriously mad at one person. And Jun would never press someone’s buttons and fears that hard; it had always been for fun and games. Stepping lightly onto solid ground, Nino joined the three in their wait for the last member.

Once the group was complete again, Jun made his way over to the waitress who stood at the front desk, murmuring his name to her. She nodded once and promptly led them to a large white, circular table. Other customers paid them no mind as they passed by, low overhanging lights casting shadows of their faces. Taking a seat in a comfortable, black leather chair, Nino looked at the other four who were situating themselves in their spots.

Walls were painted with an intimate red, and yellow-orange lamps glowed warmly in the small space. The noise was made up of quiet chatter, forks on food, and orders being taken by the waiters. Menus placed promptly in their hands were covered with exquisite and foreign words, Japanese katakana written in small manuscript underneath.

“Ah, Sho-kun, can I talk to you for a moment?” Jun asked, standing up from his seat. Sho cast a nervous glance at Nino, nodding his head hesitantly. The two walked around the corner and out of sight, leaving the other three to wonder.

Nino had half a mind to follow them, but he knew that would end up in futile efforts, more questions, and double the exhaustion.

‘You give up too much these days,’ the voice scolded in his mind. Nino ignored it, turning to Aiba and Ohno instead.

“So how have you been?”

Nino intended to make his time in Japan worthwhile and useful. Talking to two of his closest friends seemed like a good idea. Maybe they’d even go back to the past somehow.

___________________________________________

“Yes?” Sho questioned when Jun stopped walking. The other man turned to him with a crafted smirk on his face.

“I’d like to buy Nino’s dinner.”

Silence set in the crevices of their clothes and shoes.

“E-excuse me?” Sho stuttered, looking at Jun like he’d gone mad.

“I’d like to buy Nino’s time in which he has dinner. Well, for the rest of the day to put it simply. It’s lunch right now after all.” Jun squinted his eyes in a half smile, staring at Sho.

“And the catch?”

Jun’s lips formed a tight frown, his thick eyebrows furrowing in mock hurt.

“There is no catch, Sho-kun. I merely get a dinner date with Nino.”

“And?”

Jun chuckled bitterly.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just take these words at face.”

“I’ve learned to not trust a pretty face,” Sho sneered suddenly. Whether the hurt shown on Jun’s face was genuine or fake didn’t matter.

“Well, if you’re going to put it that way,” Jun replied leisurely, “I get to do anything, say anything, and have all power over what happens. You don’t get to interfere.”

Sho paused in frustration. Could he let Nino crash and fall as they all had? Would he himself be able to relive seeing someone else go through that pain? But what power did he hold to keep the boy from learning the truth?

“Why are you asking for my permission?” Sho shook his head in confusion.

“Afterwards, I’ll leave him completely alone unless he decides to come to me. If you want me to, I’ll even disappear back to Europe.”

Stuck between two chairs, Sho stared helplessly at his trembling hands. The opportunity to shatter Nino was in his hands, but the power to grant the actor’s wish also laid in his decision. The strength of faith seemed to flow back to the newscaster slowly and tentatively. Sho thought that his own being also needed a fresh change, one of trust and belief. He wanted to stop doubting everything that revolved around his world, and maybe Nino could be the one to revive his hopes.

Sho clenched his fists tightly, closing his eyes in defeat.

“O…okay.”

Jun put his hands together in glee, beaming at Sho with a perfect smile.

“Thank you, Sho-kun,” Jun said.

Sho was still shaking from his decision.

“Just don’t…” Sho hesitated. What shouldn’t Jun do that he could still control? “Just don’t kill him.”

Jun merely gave a cynical grin, his eyes already twinkling with excitement.

“Oh, we’ll see.”

Chapter 15: Thankful

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And?”

Nino fidgeted with his cup, stirring the ice inside.

“And what?”

He lifted his eyes hesitantly to glance at Aiba, who in turn raised an eyebrow.

“What happened with Jun-kun?” the model prodded, tilting his head closer to Nino’s. The actor only stumbled on his words uncharacteristically, an awkward blush spreading over his cheeks. “Why are you so flustered?” Aiba asked, clearly seeing Nino’s embarrassment.

“I-I…I just don’t know what to say,” Nino muttered, biting his lip in frustration. He combed his bangs to the side, refusing to look at the other man straight in the eye. “He was…different, for one.” Aiba pouted, leaning back into his chair. He draped an arm over the back of it and stared at Nino with hard eyes.

“We’re all different.”

Nino choked on his drink, his breath hitching in his throat painfully.

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” he growled bitterly, making Aiba immediately regret his words.

“I’m sorry,” Aiba whispered. “I didn’t mean…that.”

Silence encased the two of them in a small box, blocking out all other souls and thoughts. Their eyes wouldn’t meet due to the awkward and painful statement Aiba had made clear. The past seemed vague and faint compared to the bright bursts of the future.

“I called him perfection,” Nino said in one breath. He crossed his legs and brought his cup to his lips, feeling the ice cold water flow down his throat.

“You what?” Aiba sounded shocked and surprised, yet pleased at the same time.

“Perfection,” Nino stated calmly after drinking. There was a quietness that seemed to overshadow all feelings of remorse and guilt. “Nothing happened, Aiba-san.” Aiba wondered if Nino was happy or disappointed at that fact. “We just had dinner after I saw him at the airport. Nothing happened,” he repeated.

As if aggravated by Aiba’s silence, Nino stood up from the table they were currently sitting at and walked away. He didn’t listen for the footsteps that would surely follow him, and he didn’t look for the tall, lanky shadow either. Right before he was about to push the door open, he felt a violent vibration in his pocket. Pulling it out irately, Nino glared at the screen before feeling his heart stop.

‘Ohno Satoshi’

How long had it been since he’d seen that name on his cellphone?

Nino stared at it for a moment, before snapping it open quickly.

“Hello?” He mentally kicked himself for sounding so rushed.

“A-ah, Nino?” came the hesitant mumble. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who was nervous over a phone call. “Can you come to the café we were at last month? The one near Tokyo Dome?” Nino could see the older man biting his lip nervously in his mind. “I want to talk to you about something.”

There was a rustle of noise from the other side, which sounded vaguely like other people talking. Nino furrowed his eyebrows at the unintelligible voices, nodding his head. He made a sound of agreement at the back of his throat, knowing that Ohno would hear him.

“Ah, wait!” Ohno spoke before Nino had time to close his phone. “C-could you bring Aiba-chan?”

“How do you know I’m with Aiba?”

Ohno paused on the other side, silence racking the line.

“C-could you just bring him? It’s really important.”

Voices began to pick up again, and Ohno could barely make out “okay, bye!” before disconnecting.

Nino scowled fiercely at the screen, snapping it shut with a firm click. He looked at Aiba who was staring with sparkling eyes. Muttering to himself, Nino walked over and grabbed the model’s wrist, dragging him out of the restaurant.

“Oh-chan wants to see us,” he said in an annoyed tone before Aiba could ask any questions.

Nino didn’t know how fast he was walking, how long it took to get there, or when the time passed. Standing in front of the slightly familiar building, the two stared at it as if it had come from another world. There was a feeling of suspense that wormed its way into their hearts, making Nino lose his grip on Aiba’s wrist.

Choosing to walk in rather than staring through the windows, Aiba entered the café first, Nino following quickly after. They stared perplexedly at the people, none of the faces registering in their heads.

“Ah, that was fast.”

Nino froze at the voice, and Aiba jumped.

“You guys really hurry when you need to, huh?”

The lights of the café seemed to shake momentarily, and the sounds disappeared along with the suspense.

“Long time no see, Aiba-chan.”

“Jun…kun?”

Turning around slowly, Nino was face to face with perfection once more. His eyes drifted to the back of the café, seeing Sho and Ohno sitting close together.

Nino counted in his head. ‘Aiba Masaki, Matsumoto Jun, Ohno Satoshi, Sakurai Sho…’ His thoughts paused for a second. ‘Ninomiya Kazunari.’

“I thought it was time for a reunion. Aren’t you thankful?”

I remember the soft caress of your lips on my cheek, how delicate and fragile it was, as if you would disappear the moment you pulled away…

Putting down her pen, Juliane looked up from her sitting place. The leaves of the tree that branched out above her barely protected her from the pouring rain, occasional wet drops falling onto her short, curly hair. She watched sheets of rain try to penetrate the concrete, only to bounce back pathetically before forming a small puddle. Breathing in, the scent of fresh water and wet grass filled her senses. Her hand slowly brushed the side of the tree’s trunk she was leaning on. Rough, wet bark scraped the back of her fingers, leaving faint white scratches on them.

Looking out in front of her, she could see the deserted playground emit a ghostly halo. She felt as if the rain was reflecting off an invisible shield, one that protected the children’s ground from any intruders. Juliane watched as a few leaves were blown across the scene, finding a resting place underneath the yellow slide. A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she thought about time taking away the wonder and amazement of things. Even at a blooming age of pre-adulthood, Juliane had already learned the harsh bites of reality and the danger of dreaming.

Shaking her head free from these thoughts, she stared worriedly at the paper that sat in her lap. Miraculously, no water drops had fallen onto the thin material. Only black ink was etched deeply into the surface, hesitant words filling the space. Tentatively, she picked up her pen and began writing once more, biting her lip in concentration.

You looked at me with a pleading look in your eye, and I wondered if you were asking me to piece the shatters of your being back together. What is it that you wanted from me? Was it my pure innocence that you yearned to claim? Or were you aiming for the hidden secrets locked deep in my heart? Sometimes I think that you weren’t thinking about any of that, but rather, the only thing you chose to see of me: my beauty.

Frustrated, Juliane resisted the urge to crumple up the paper and throw it to be soaked in the relentless rain. She closed her eyes slowly, listening to the repetitive pitter and patter of falling water. She felt as if the sound cleansed her, purified her from her troubles. A cold breeze brushed by the back of her neck, sending tiny shivers over her body. She regretted the fact that she hadn’t brought out a jacket with her, only taking a few sheets of paper and her favorite fountain pen.

“This isn’t good enough,” she growled to herself. Her turquoise shirt brought out the stars of green in her eyes, the grey and blue shades hidden with the silhouettes of tears. She sniffed in anger, refusing to let herself cry again. “Crying isn’t going to help with anything,” she said to the air stubbornly. Lifting her chin in efforts to help herself feel better, Juliane stared defiantly down at the paper. Her eyes narrowed at the small words, as if trying to change the emotions underneath them with a mere look. Moving her fingers to itch away the cold numbness in them, she began to write once more.

Would you still kiss me as you had before? Would your lips still be as soft as before? Would your eyes still be begging me for something I could not yet understand? It matters not anymore, for you have only become the wisp of a memory, a faint wave in the ocean in my heart.

Sighing, she tore her eyes from the paper. Her pen dropped uselessly to the side, falling to the grass with an inaudible thud.

So many words came to mind when she thought of the words she’d just written: useless, incompetent, shallow, inadequate. Juliane fisted her hands in frustration, tugging at the green strings on the ground. She punched the tree trunk lightly, as if all her troubles would disappear with the single impact. Only a sharp sting ran up the side of her arm, bringing her back to a twisted reality. Putting down the paper on the floor, she watched small drops of rain collect on its surface, bleeding out to the sides. The ink became slightly smudged, and she knew they would become illegible if she didn’t move it soon.

“I can do better than this,” she told herself while bringing her knees up to her chest. The papers now looked heavy with moisture and regret, unlike the thin and delicate paper she had just written on. Finally, the words began to swirl, hesitantly at first, before combining with other letters, words, sentences, and then paragraphs. The black ink slowly merged together before disappearing completely. Juliane watched the phenomenon happen with dull eyes. Putting her chin in the crook between her knees, she closed her eyes and let the cold settle in her bones.

“Juju-chan?”

She felt her eyelids slightly crack open at the sound of her name. Juliane titled her head to stare at the figure running towards her. A tall, lanky silhouette was shadowed by the rain, and an umbrella extended from their body. The only thing she could recognize was his eyes.

“Aiba…chan?” she whispered slowly.

As the person ran closer, Juliane could see that it was, indeed, Aiba. Only his brown eyes would shine clearly through pouring rain. He slowly came to a stop right in front of her, shaking his hair free from stray water drops that managed to find him. Closing his umbrella, he laid it next to her on the tree trunk. He towered over her small figure on the ground, but he crouched down to look her in the eye.

“Hi!” he chirped happily, a smile blooming over his handsome face. Lines crinkled around his eyes, making them smaller but much brighter than before. His teeth poked out childishly from underneath his lips, making him look younger than he actually was.

“Hi,” Juliane replied, a small smile lifting the edges of her lips. “Why are you out here in the rain, Aiba-chan?” She cocked her head to the side in confusion. The man only chuckled at her, shaking his head for an unknown reason.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “It’s pouring out here. You’re shivering, and you aren’t even wearing a jacket.” Before he could finish his sentence, Aiba was already taking his own coat off. He wrapped it firmly around her slim figure, making sure that it was giving her enough warmth.

A pretty pink blush spread over her cheeks, and Juliane found herself snuggling deeper into the warmth. She giggled, thinking that they were sharing the same heat. The scent of his clean soap and hint of cologne filled her nose. The beige coat that lay on her figure rose and fell with her breath. Small puffs of white air escaped her parted mouth, and she watched them disappear into nothing.

“I was writing,” she told him simply. Juliane brought her hand up to stroke the soft hair that sat on his head, her fingers raking through the wet, brown strands. She laughed when Aiba nearly gave a mewl of pleasure, bending his head lower so he could feel her fingertips closer. “And you?” she asked again, never stopping her soothing motion. He arched his back underneath her touch, as if he was a lazy cat that’d been neglected for several days.

“I just finished shooting for Shukudai-kun,” he replied. A soft smile played on his lips, and Juliane could tell he was reminiscing about the day’s events. “Can I see what you wrote?”

Her fingers paused momentarily, and she sent a flittering gaze at the sodden paper, which now held no meaning. Aiba caught her eyes, and he turned his head to see the pathetic pile of a half-finished story.

“Eh?” he asked in confusion. He pulled away from her touch to move over to the papers. “They got wet,” he stated plainly. Aiba sifted through them slowly, as if they would disintegrate from his touch if he wasn’t careful. He stopped to read a couple lines that were still eligible, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Why would you throw this away?”

Juliane averted her eyes, choosing to stare at the drops of water on the grass and stay silent. She flinched when she felt Aiba’s hard stare on her.

“Juju-chan?” he prodded lightly. “I don’t get it. Why?” He sounded like a child searching for an answer, incredulity gliding across his voice. “I-it’s amazing. I’ve never even read something like it in my life, so wh-“

“It’s just not good enough, Aiba-chan,” she muttered, gritting her teeth. She could feel tears surfacing again, but she refused to let them fall.

“Not good enough? Juju-chan, this i-“

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Silence settled in suddenly, and Juliane immediately regretted her words. She held back a whimper when she felt a tear trail down her cheek. Her hands were curled up tightly, and she could feel her nails digging into her skin painfully. Aiba’s hurt expression wasn’t lost on her, either.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

The warmth of the coat seemed to have disappeared along with her determination. Tears dropped off of her chin one by one, and she tried to hide herself within the soft fabric.

‘Why?’ she thought to herself silently. ‘Why did I have to be so mean? It wasn’t his fault. Aiba-chan didn’t do anything wrong. He doesn’t deserve this.’ Sniffing, Juliane stood up shakily, taking the coat off. She silently handed it back to him.

Aiba, on the other hand, was leaning against the trunk like she had. He stared off into space, only snapping back to reality when he saw the familiar piece of clothing. Looking up in shock, he watched Juliane give a watery apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I-I’m not really in a good mood today,” she mumbled awkwardly, shifting her balance to one foot. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Aiba nodded mutely and watched her walk away. She paused hesitantly where the leaves stopped branching out before walking out into the cold rain.

She’d always been fond of the rain.

As the warmth from Aiba’s coat vanished completely, a numb coldness was instilled instead. She felt the rain pelt down on her skin harshly, but she ignored the shivers her body was racked with. Folding her arms over her stomach, Juliane continued her trek to her house. Her feet stepped in puddles, staining her white shoes with a muddy brown. The drops of water slid down her face, and she could no longer tell if she was crying.

She wondered if Aiba would come after her.

Minute after minute passed, and Juliane knew he wouldn’t be running after her in this weather. He had other things to do instead of chasing down his girlfriend in the rain. He also couldn’t afford to get sick because of his demanding job. There was no reason he should’ve come after her.

So why wasn’t she surprised when she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist?

Juliane stopped, relishing momentarily in the warmth that the arms offered. She turned around hesitantly, knowing who she would see.

“What’s wrong?”

The question caused a sob to rack her body unintentionally, and Juliane leaned into his chest. She fisted the front of his shirt in her hands, pulling him closer to her. The shower of rain seemed like nothing compared to the comfort of his arms, even as it continued to fall down relentlessly on them.

“A-aiba-chan,” she whimpered, feeling his arms tighten around her waist. Her eyes stung with tears clearly now, the rain only adding to the wet trails on her cheeks. With her clothes soaked through and through, Juliane felt as if a permanent chill entered her.

“Juliane,” he started, putting his nose in her hair, “you are never not good enough.” His voice was hard with determination and rough with love.

“I d-don’t know why this is happening,” she said, her words muffled by the cloth of his shirt. “M-my writing isn’t what it should be.” Juliane moved her arms from his shirt to around his waist, feeling his slim figure closer. “And it’s frustrating because I don’t know why,” she admitted guiltily. “Maybe I’m not experienced with life enough. Maybe I’m too experienced with life. Maybe i-it’s the words I’m using. Maybe…” she paused to sniff. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

Pulling away from her, Aiba stared her in the eye.

“You are perfect the way you are, Juliane. Don’t you dare think about changing.” Aiba smiled at her encouragingly, sending a burst of warmth through her stomach. The rain fell onto his skin, only to slip off moments later. His smile seemed to repel any cold and water, making her feel secure and safe. “Even with your faults, even with your downfalls, I’ll still love you for who you are,” he said honestly, truth forming in his eyes quickly. “You are never not good enough,” Aiba repeated firmly.

Juliane blushed underneath his intense gaze, feeling the burning of her eyes dissipate slowly. Her tears were lost to the pelting of the rain. She gripped the fabric of his shirt tightly, wanting reassurance that this wasn’t a dream.

“Got it?” Aiba asked, pulling her back to him lovingly. She could only nod mutely against his chest, noticing that she could feel the beating of his heart. The sound was more comforting than the rain; a slow, repetitive thump. Juliane closed her eyes so she could listen to it more in depth. Her heart beat in rhythm with his. She wanted to listen to this sound forever, the pulse echoing throughout her mind.

A pair of wet lips brushed against her cheek lightly.

Her eyes snapped open in surprise. Looking up, Aiba only smiled reassuringly at her.

Moments passed by slowly as they stared at each other, time having no effect on the two of them. The rain continued to hail down, but it, too, did not disturb the gaze they shared. Fleeting shadows of trees danced to the beat of their hearts, leaves swirling in an exotic choreographed movement. The empty playground lay behind them, watching their each move carefully.

Before she could collect herself, Juliane felt a pair of lips fit perfectly over her own.

Aiba tilted his head slightly, adding a slight pressure to the kiss. A smile bloomed over both of their faces, and Juliane draped her arms over his tall shoulders leisurely. Their eyelids drifted close, the two lost in love.

There were no butterflies in the stomach, nor were there any romantic skipped beats of hearts.

It was simple warmth.

Simple warmth which spread over her body like a small fire, igniting passions she never knew possible. Simple love that would send her into a world of eternity. Simple compassion which let her heart beat for a reason.

Moving to balance on her the tips of her toes, Juliane deepened the kiss, wanting to feel him closer than he already was. She felt each crevice and crack of his lips, tasting the rain on them. He laughed, never once breaking contact with her. Tightening his arms, Aiba turned the brush of lips into a passionate lock of heat and pleasure.

Hesitantly, he ran his tongue over her mouth, and Juliane started in surprise. Her eyes opened slightly to stare at him, only seeing the blissful expression on his face. Smiling, she opened her mouth slightly, gasping when she felt his tongue make contact with hers. Heat exploded from her cheeks all the down to her stomach, traveling down her body in a fury. She made a move to grasp his shoulders more firmly, feeling her knees go weak from pleasure.

Aiba expertly traced his tongue in the inside of her cheek, before pulling away for a breath of air. Juliane whimpered as he pulled away, only to be silenced with another, more urgent, kiss.

Unlike the last one, this one was more of a mash of lips, teeth, and tongues. Juliane blushed when Aiba gave a content moan. The rain was only a slight tap on their skin now, vanishing within the heat of their bodies. She wondered when Aiba began to lift her off her feet, bringing her into the air. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his torso to keep balance, never once letting go of his hold on her lips.

When they simultaneously broke away for air, Aiba grinned at her happily. Juliane giggled and pecked him on the cheek, ignoring the rain that collected on her lips. Bringing up a finger, she traced his familiar jawbone which gave him a sophisticated, yet childish, look. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes to feel her closer.

“This feels like a fairytale,” she whispered, incredulous of what just happened.

But she knew it wasn’t.

If it was, the rain would be clearing away to a beautiful blue sky, but instead, it pelted down even more harshly than before. If it was, Aiba would be stealing her away to a castle, but they stayed there with the soulless playground as their background. If it was, an old witch was coming to steal away the happiness she’d just obtained, but only hers and Aiba’s breath echoed in the patter of rain.

He lowered her back to the ground slowly, and she let her feet place themselves on balance once more. The stunning smile was back on his face, almost making her heart burst with giddiness.

“Thanks,” Juliane said, smiling back at him. Aiba giggled, shaking his head to signify that it was nothing he needed to be thanked for. He poked her on the nose lightly, surprising her.

“You’ll create your own beautiful story, Juliane,” he told her. “It’ll be simple, but breath-taking. I’m sure of it,” Aiba exclaimed in determination and faith.

“My own story,” she repeated, feeling the words form on her mouth. Juliane chuckled, leaning on Aiba’s chest once more. “Our story,” she corrected. Aiba looked at her in surprise before joining in with her laughter.

“Okay. Our story.”

“Yabu-kun.”

Eri tapped her foot impatiently with a scowl on her face.

“Yabu-kun,” she said, this time more forceful. The student continued to flirt with his seating neighbor, flashing smiles whenever appropriate. “Yabu-kun!”

Turning around to look at her, Yabu sneered at her.

“What?” he asked rudely. The classroom fell into silence watching the two. Eri blushed awkwardly, tearing her eyes away from his angelic face.

“I need to see you after class.” Snickers ran throughout the whole room, making Yabu roll his eyes. He leisurely crossed his legs, looking at her through half-lidded eyes.

“And if I say no?”

Eri frowned. That was no way a student should be acting to a teacher, regardless of any history.

“Then I’ll fail you on your last exam,” she told him flatly.

“Tsch.” Yabu scoffed and turned his gaze out to the window, tapping his fingers on the wooden desk in annoyance. She caught the shattered and heartbroken look in his eyes. Eri felt a string tug at her heart, but she ignored it and went back to teaching.

The class time flew by too fast for both of them, and before she knew it, Eri was face to face with her most important student. Silence reverberated in the room, almost suffocating her with the awkward pressure.

“Follow me,” she ordered hesitantly. Leading him out of the room and to the back of the schoolyard, Eri felt strange having Yabu tag the back of her heels like a lost puppy. When she looked back at him, he was staring at the ground with his hand in his pocket and schoolbag casually over his shoulder. Shaking off the feeling of guilt, she stared at the empty ground that lay ahead of them.

She stopped when she reached a tall, concrete wall. Turning around, Eri stared Yabu down straight in the eye, making his breath hitch in his throat painfully.

“You’re failing English,” she said bluntly. Seeing him flinch, Eri regretted having not said it in nicer way. Yabu fidgeted with the hem of his shirt nervously and kicked at the beaten weeds beneath his feet. “Why?” she asked. “You’re one of my best students in the subject. I don’t see any reason to why you should be faili-“

Suddenly, Yabu swung around harshly, tugging on her right arm.

“What are y-“

Before Eri could finish her sentence, she was pinned against the cement wall of the school. The soulless schoolyard echoed with the impact, and she grimaced when she felt her bones nearly shatter. Yabu hooked his legs around hers, stopping any movement she could have made.

“You have no right to say that,” he growled. He took possession of her wrists, slamming them to the wall above her head. “You don’t k-“

“Get off of me,” Eri interrupted rudely. She struggled in his grasp momentarily before reverting back to glaring.

“What if I don’t?” he prodded, testing the waters before diving in.

“Yabu Kota, if you do not get off me in five seconds, I wi-“

Yabu smirked cockily, tilting his head closer.

“You’ll what?”

Eri sneered, throwing away all teacher-student boundaries.

“Just get off me.”

His hands only gripped her wrists tighter, and he pinned her to the wall harder. She groaned. His heat was becoming unbearable.

“Or what?”

She almost screamed in frustration. Even when she tried to bring up a knee to hurt him in the stomach or a region lower, he stopped her expertly with his long, lean legs.

“Fuck you,” Eri spat. She struggled more, trying to rip her wrists from his grasp. His nails dug painfully into her skin, and she bit her lip in an effort to stifle a yell. Because of his height, she was forced to look up at him, and she was irritated to admit that he was even more handsome when up close and sadistic.

“Only if it’s you,” he smiled angelically. He suddenly sneered. “And hard,” he whispered in her ears.

Angrily, Eri ripped her head away from his fiery breath. She glared at him fiercely, as if trying to penetrate him with her eyes. He only smirked defiantly, staring right back at her with equal amounts of emotion.

“I gave you a chance already,” she nearly pleaded, her knees going weak from the flame between their bodies.

“Well you should have known,” Yabu growled deeply in her ear, “that once you have a taste of something,” he nibbled on her ear lightly, “you’re always wanting more.” His tongue circled her lobe playfully, taking nips leisurely. A mewl of pleasure escaped his lips when she didn’t pull away.

“Stop it,” she hissed. Eri had figured out that struggling wasn’t going to do her any good, so she might as well try to use her words. A shiver broke out over her spine, the effects rippling throughout her body and out her heat. Yabu made a sound of denial and acceptance at the same time.

Letting go of her hands, Yabu wrapped his fingers around her waist. He bent down and began to suck at her nape, his teeth working furiously. Eri let her back arch in minuscule pleasure before realizing what was happening. She fumbled with her thoughts for a moment, her mind being able to focus only on his lips at her neck. Heat and passion exploded suddenly, sending a gasp through her parted mouth.

Before she could lose herself any further, she brought up a quick hand and slapped him across the cheek.

Her hand stung with the impact, and she could hear the echo resound in the yard loudly. Eri stared at the darkening handprint on Yabu’s face, wondering if she’d made the right move. Biting her lip nervously, she watched painfully as tears began to gather in his eyes. His hands recoiled slowly back to his side. He stared long and hard at the ground, as if trying to force back the tears.

Eri wanted to scream. She wanted to break the silence that hung between them like a rubber band that was ready to snap. Minute by minute passed slowly, as if taunting her of her actions. Her throat itched to say something, anything that would shatter the quiet whispers of the grass. But nothing came out of her parted lips. Yabu looked like a statue to her, not moving and completely stoic. Tears hung on the edges of his eyelashes, just waiting to drop to their end. Eri wondered if her life would pass like this.

By the time she noticed, the sun was slowly seeping behind its blanket known as the horizon, its lights peeking out hesitantly. Clearing her throat awkwardly and unintentionally making a noise, Eri shuffled her feet tentatively before walking away from her student.

Each step seemed to echo in the schoolyard, and she knew that he was probably crying by now. Eri resisted the urge to look back and see if he was okay, stubbornly going forward. She also refused to acknowledge the tears that began to prick the edges of her eyes.

“I know you love me,” a gruff voice behind her said. A familiar hand took possession of her wrist and turned her around. The trace of a tingle nestled in between the contact of their skin, making Eri’s heart skip a beat. “So why,” Yabu pulled her to his chest, “can’t you just admit it?” Numb, Eri felt her mouth open and close in an effort to say something, only to find that her tongue had become a wooden block.

“H-how can you be so sure?” she stuttered clumsily, her cheeks blushing against the soft fabric of his cotton shirt. Yabu only chuckled in amusement, as if the person pinning her against the wall moments ago hadn’t been him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his warmth. The soft thud of his heart could be felt from her position, and she wondered faintly if hers beat in synchronization.

“The feelings hidden in your chest, I want to see all of them,” he murmured in her hair, breathing in the vanilla scent of her shampoo. The smell intoxicated his senses, making him dizzy and content to stay like that forever. “I want to monopolize you and snatch everything, and embrace each future,” he whispered, while she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Yabu could feel her smile into his contact, leaning deeper into the touch.

“Those are nice lyrics,” Eri told him.

“Thanks, I’ve been practicing,” he said smugly. A smile played on the edges of his lips. His cologne filled her senses with cypress tints. Eri chuckled quietly, fisting the fabric of the front of his shirt in her hands.

“Instead of English?” she chided carefully. His body tensed suddenly, and she realized she shouldn’t have said that. Eri waited for him to speak, swaying in his embrace which was slowly falling apart. She felt a pang of fear when minutes passed by without any words.

“Can you throw everything away for me?”

Looking up at him, Yabu looked so much older and mature than he really was. With his light brown bangs to the side of his sparkling eyes, his angled jaw seemed clenched and tense. Eri breathed in, only to smell the scent of clean detergent and grass. His tall, lanky body towered over hers comfortably, letting her rest her cheek on his chest.

“I don’t…” Yabu paused hesitantly before continuing, “I don’t want to be a play toy for you. I don’t want you to look down at me like I’m some child.” He swallowed and avoided her eyes. “I want to be a man who can be there for you when you need me. I want…”

Eri looked up when he fell silent. She saw him playing with the skin of his lip, as if debating to finish his sentence. She decided to poke him lightly in the ribs, urging him to continue.

“I want you to say that you love me and mean it,” he said in one breath. Laying the side of her face back onto the fabric, Eri sighed silently and stared emptily into space. Her hands fiddled with the hem of his shirt, wanting to know that he wasn’t going to disappear into the universe like a fleeting passion. “Can you do that?” Yabu asked, tightening his arms around her.

“I-I don’t know,” she whispered honestly. Emotion clogged up her throat, making her force her words out awkwardly. “Would you be able to accept someone like me?” Eri decided to ask instead of answering. “A foreigner, picky, naggy, annoying, u-“

“I already accept you as who you are.” Eri looked at him in surprise. “Don’t think so badly of yourself, Eri,” Yabu told her firmly. “You don’t need to be anything but yourself.”

Averting her eyes, Eri leaned deeper into his warmth, wanting to bundle it up into a ball and take it home with her.

Suddenly without warning, she pulled away from him briskly, letting his arms fall to his sides uselessly. Eri stared at him firmly, lifting her chin up. Yabu raised an elegant eyebrow.

“Okay,” she told him. “I can do that.”

Surprise was etched into Yabu’s face, making him suddenly look like a child on Christmas Day. It couldn’t be that simple, he thought to himself doubtfully. And with the determined look on her face, it wasn’t.

“But.”

Yabu felt his heart throb in his chest painfully, as if trying to break free from its cage. His breath came in awkward, silent pants that sent his head reeling.

“You have to get your grade up in my class.”

“…what?” he asked hesitantly. A playful smirk lay on Eri’s face as she stared at him from below.

“If you can pass your last exam and bring your grade up, I’ll be yours to keep.”

A laugh of relief and surprise escaped Yabu. He smiled splendidly at her, startling her with the brightness of his glee.

“Keep?” he asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

“Yes. Keep.”

“So I can do anything I want with you then?” His innocent smile turned into a seductive smirk, making Eri take an instinctive step backwards. Yabu only advanced, intertwining their fingers and bringing her into a kiss which was no more than a brush of lips. But even at the slight of contact, Eri felt wings sprout from her heart, as if asking to take flight. Her stomach did multiple turns, continuing even after he pulled away. “I’ll take that as a promise.”

She only smiled at him.

“Well you better get home and study,” she told him reluctantly, staring at the darkening canvas that hung over their heads. Yabu nodded, intending to go fully through with their promise.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he whispered, letting go of her hand. He walked away slowly, relishing in the feel of her gaze on his back. His steps were light with the happiness of his heart, and heavy with the new vow. Yabu suddenly felt his hand itch for a pen and a piece of paper, wanting to scratch down familiar words and characters.

I want to grab that hand and run, run across the schoolyard.
After school, I called and we met at the back of the school building.
Only the fun times of those doubtful days, today, we graduate.

Cursing underneath her breath, she stormed into her bedroom after slamming the door shut.

Tears threatened to spill over her long eyelashes, clouding over the coffee colored orbs. An awkward pink blush spread over her cheeks, as if you could feel her anger and heat from miles away. She curled her fists and dropped onto her bed in frustration.

Ignoring the grittiness of her day clothes, she scrambled underneath the covers after throwing her backpack at the wall. It landed with a loud thud on the ground, but she didn’t care. By now, she had huddled underneath the protection of her bed sheets. Tears flowed freely down her face, and she was grateful that no one could see her in such a pathetic state. Pulling the warm cloth over her head, she laid on her mattress, crying to herself.

‘Alone,’ she thought bitterly. ‘No one needs to see my tears.’ A choked sob ran over her body, making her curl into a small ball. The circulated air started to become heated with the intensity of her emotions.

‘Why?’ she asked herself angrily, not bothering to wipe at the tears. Why did she feel so alone? Why did she have to cry every day? Why did depression and regret constantly pull at her heart?

Why couldn’t she be happy like everybody else?

She cursed once more, burying her face into the soft pillow. As she lay there silently and alone, she wondered if she could suffocate this way. Would anyone care if she disappeared of the face of the planet? She snorted to herself, knowing that no one would. The lack of oxygen began to make her dizzy, and she pulled away from her pillow in a hurry.

She couldn’t lose her life now. She still had opportunities.

…right?

Sniffing, she wanted nothing but to pull out her heart and dump it in a bucket. Her head pounded at her furiously, reminding her that she was still, in fact, painfully alive and breathing. Letting out a choked moan, she brought her knees up to her chest. Even though the air around her burned hotly, a chill felt permanently situated in her bones. A shiver shot up her spine, making her curl in pain.

“Stop,” she whispered to herself. The darkness of her room was enough to make her feel isolated. Maybe she was going crazy. Maybe she was just dreaming, and when she woke up the pain would be gone. She wiped at her tears, partly to see if her hand would pass through her face like a ghost, and partly to make way for fresher ones.

Pain throbbed numbly in the back of her head, and her breath hitched awkwardly when she tried to regulate her breathing.

“Can I disappear?” she wondered quietly, her voice echoing within the enclosed space. Closing her eyes, she ignored the tears that still continued to run. Taking one last deep breath, she clamped her eyes shut and brought the covers over her head.

Second by second, the oxygen in her lungs began to burn away quickly. Numbness slowly invaded the edges of her fingers, painful and soothing at the same time. She felt dizzy all of sudden, as if she was off balance, even though she was lying down. Her throat felt as if it was going to burst from the lack of air, but she endured it.

“The me of now had a dream ten years ago,” she heard someone sing faintly. Her eyes snapped open, and her body bolted up straight. Her chest heaved, trying to force the needed oxygen into her blood. Even though her head felt light and dizzy, the words penetrated her mind clearly. “The me of now is going on unknowingly ten years later,” came the lyrics.

Her bed cover slid slowly off her body, exposing her to the walls of her room. Looking around quickly, she saw familiar faces that stared back at her. Smiles radiated off of shining posters, all looking at her expectantly. As her senses came back to her painfully, she could feel the music playing in her ears from her headphones. She’d apparently forgotten to take them off. Shifting her body into a more comfortable position, she accidentally pressed a button on her iPod. A tune that was forever engraved in her heart began to play.

Wiping her tears messily and staining her cheeks with moisture, she leaned against the cool wood of her wall. Voices she’d heard one million times already began to sing.

“As a rain shower approaches, the scent of loneliness is in the air in this town.”

Letting her eyelids drift close, she burrowed herself into the small corner of her room. The pounding of her head and heart seemed to slowly evaporate with each beat of the music.

“During this journey I can’t turn back from, I want to continue on believing in tomorrow,” five men sang together in perfect harmony. “There are times that I stop and look back as I stand alone in this evening shower.” The coldness in her body felt like it was melting away into a hesitant, warm glow. In the next lyrics, she joined in tentatively.

“But I’m not afraid of anything,” she whispered aloud. A tiny smile lifted the edges of her lips when a raspy, familiar voice filled her head.

“After the rain I can see sunflowers in the twilight from the window,” he sang. In her mind, she could see him standing in front of a microphone, trying to give his best.

“Dyed by the sunset, they continue to wait for the morning sun,” sung another man, higher pitched. As she brought her hand up to wipe away the tears that were surely falling, she was surprised to feel none at all. Bringing her knees up to her chest once more, she sat there on the bed, staring at the wall across from her.

“It seems we could lose sight of what’s important over time, but I’ll continue walking on with my unyielding memories clutched in my arms,” she hummed to herself. Her eyes locked onto a poster that hung on her wall.

Five men had their arms wrapped around one another’s shoulders in a line. Genuine smiles donned all of their handsome faces, and she felt as if they were smiling to give her strength. Settling her eyes on each member individually she whispered, wondering if they could hear her from where she was.

“Ohno,” she chuckled while staring at the man in the middle. “I’ll be okay, right, Sho?” she asked. “And you’ll be with me, ne, Jun?” She chuckled to herself in slight amusement, dragging her eyes over the paper. “I know I shouldn’t be crying, Nino,” she told it. “Yes, Aiba, I’m going to be fine.”

As the words spilled out of her mouth, she felt strength slowly, but surely, flowing back to her.

“When I cross this long hill, no matter what I see in front of me, I don’t want to have regrets.” She nodded her head to the beat of the music, letting it take her faraway, into a world that only existed of her and Arashi: her most important people.

A smile bloomed on her face, a genuine one, and not the fake one she’d been using the whole day, or was it week? She couldn’t exactly remember since when she’d started to be like this: coming home, crying every day, cursing herself and the people around her.

“Run, run! Reach your hand out toward your dreams. Yell, yell! As far as your voice will carry, as much as your heart tells you!”

The song slowly came to and end after those lyrics, but she knew that just another one, the same in emotions, would appear.

And she was right.

A deep voice with a husky edge began to rap, slowly.

“Many years since we met, it seems like that was by chance. When we realize, it’s already 10 years,” he said. A shiver broke out over her body, but this time, she realized, it was out of happiness. Without any force or control, a smile was etched onto her face. The story of their debut from ten years ago would never fail to amaze her.

“There were also days we only always felt rush, uneasiness, and resent, but it’s because you were there for us, because your smiles were warm.” A warm bubble burst in her heart, sending flutters of gratitude all over her. “The wind we gathered all over ourselves, even the sadness that we couldn’t support, we were able to smile because you were there.”

With the unwavering love in their voices, with the supportive honesty in their smiles, she realized that she would come out okay. She would be able to smile and laugh from her heart, no matter how long it would take her to achieve that. It only mattered that she would be able to one day, and she knew it was all thanks to them.

Arashi.

“If there are no short cuts for every step, go on the path you believe in because that’s the only path. If you cry, let’s meet again.  These unchanging guys will send just send you their love, wishing for a future together for you. We will go over, fly over the mountain ahead. Coloring it with our colors yeah,” they sung.

Warmth exploded from her chest, making her giggle to herself quietly. She’d found her own place to belong to, to return to.

No matter what happened, Arashi would be with her. No matter what anyone said, Arashi was going to be her most important possession. No matter what hurt her, she would get up back on her feet with Arashi right by her side.

“The five of us are here, we’ll always be here. If we change everything up until now into strength, wrap it with unchanging love, eternity, look, eternity was born only for you and me.”

Her eyes landed on the poster across from her, and she smiled at it gratefully. Even though they were thousands, maybe millions, of miles apart, she could still feel their warmth and love.

“Love love for you.”

Through her grin, the girl whispered to them, “Thank you.”

She breathed in deeply, trying to suppress the emotions that were taking over her.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” Letting out a tiny laugh, she lifted her eyes to the sky that lay outside her window. She knew that no matter what, they would always be staring at the same sky. The sky that would burn red with sunset, or the sky that would be like a dark canvas painted with stars, and even the sky which shined with the first light of dawn, would always be there.

“Thank you, Arashi.”