Neshii: Original Author's Notes
Written for the Valentine's Fanfic Challenge on our Facebook Group "Slam Dunk Yaoi".
The prompt for this fic was "first kiss", and that is the subject of the story – I think! - so, please, read to the end XD
Although it is not canon, I always saw Rukawa as being asexual.
Star: Editor's Notes
This is one of my favourite senru stories. I'm so glad Neshii allowed me to help with making an English version! I am really excited to bring it to you. I love her take on Rukawa's character and his relationship with Sendoh. It's definitely one of my favourite portrayals. Please enjoy and be kind enough to share your kind comments :) I will make sure to pass them on to the author.
Flashlight
by Neshii (original story in Spanish entitled Destellos)
English version edited by Star7
Their relationship - or as close to a relationship as they could be said to have – had continued for a year. It had started simply, in ways that seemed to suit them. The habit of training together had become long walks to their respective homes, the odd chance to go out to eat, questions and conversations gradually a little more intimate, first as friends, and then...
"Let's go out together, as a couple." Sendoh finally suggested after an especially hard session. His muscles hurt, he felt languid and weak, tired and satisfied, breathless and strangely hopeful of Rukawa's agreement. Maybe the tiredness was the culprit for his declaration without thought. Maybe it was the desire to touch Rukawa at that moment; his skin flushed, hot, full of sweat. Maybe he just wanted to have him by his side.
Rukawa looked back at him, surprised and confused. One moment he had been resting from playing, and the next Sendoh was there at his side, smiling as if this were the greatest idea in the universe: a thin curve on his lips, and small creases accompanying tenderness in his eyes.
Rukawa agreed with a nod of his head after a few seconds. He did not have any particular reason to accept or to refuse. To feel Sendoh's gaze on him in that moment somehow gave him the courage to face whatever this new thing might be. Sendoh's surety was enough for him.
A year later they were still together in a quiet routine that gave them enough security to continue.
1.
Rukawa, sitting on his bed, carefully considered the envelope in his hands. Abruptly he tore it open and tensely read the letter, finally exhaling in relief. His scholarship had been approved. Within a few months, at the end of the summer, he would go to America to finish his studies and take the first steps towards his career as a professional and international athlete. For several reasons he had been postponing this change in his life, but now he was really going to do it. He put the note back in the envelope and flopped down on the bed, thinking of how he would have to work twice as hard if he wanted to make it professionally.
It was not long before there came a knock on the door. Rukawa took a quick look at the clock on the wall; at this time of day it could only be one person. He got up and opened the door, and on the other side Sendoh picked up a couple of bags.
"I brought dinner," he said, knowing that Rukawa was not very fond of cooking.
When he'd turned eighteen, Rukawa had become independent. He'd managed to find a small flat at a good price. It was a very tiny space with only two rooms, but he did not care. Sendoh, on the other hand, shared an apartment with Koshino which was much more spacious; but that did not matter to Rukawa either.
After eating, Rukawa excused himself to shower, knowing full well that Sendoh had shown up at his house in expectation of them having sex. Once or twice a week, they would stay at the other's house and spend time together in this way. It was not something that particularly excited Rukawa. He valued maintaining his relationship with Sendoh, however, he saw these activities mostly as just another commitment upon his time.
As he showered he took time to prepare his body so that it would be ready for their activity. They finished faster when it was he who received, and at that moment he did not want to spend more time than necessary having sex. Instead his mind was occupied with thoughts of America; only a few months and so many preparations to complete. That was what really excited him and where he wanted to dedicate his time. Upon leaving the shower he found Sendoh perched on his bed, holding the envelope, reading the letter of approval.
"When were you going to tell me?" he asked, looking up. It was not a reproach, just simple curiosity.
"I only received it today."
"Congratulations," he said, smiling the same way he had back when he had asked Rukawa to be a couple.
Every time he did it - smile like that – with the reasons ranging from important things like winning a championship, to nonsense like waking up in the morning and watching him sleep, Rukawa felt strong, unstoppable and was reminded all over again why he had agreed to go out with him. But on this occasion he could only feel strangely overwhelmed. Maybe because Sendoh congratulated him so sincerely, or maybe because he had somehow not realised until this moment that they would have to separate.
Sendoh got up, hugged him and kissed him. The uncomfortable weight on Rukawa increased, but still Sendoh seemed to be the same as always.
"I'm very proud of you," Sendoh said as he stepped back.
For the first time since they had gotten together, it was Rukawa who took him to bed and undressed him. He had never taken the initiative before, because he'd never felt any real need to touch him. But in that moment, the unpleasant sensation in his chest forced him to surrender to the physical pleasure.
2.
Both Sendoh and Koshino liked to maintain a good diet, so they always prepared their own food even when school and work duties left them exhausted. They had an excellent friendship reinforced by months of living together. More than friends, they were like brothers, and confiding often in each other meant there were few secrets between them. And even though they did not always agree, they knew well that mutual respect and the freedom to make mistakes was a fundamental part of their friendship. Besides, afterwards they always had a great time scolding each other over the stupid things they'd done.
"And what will happen to you?" Koshino asked as he stirred the salad for dinner. That night they would be alone and had decided to hang out in the kitchen.
Sendoh, in front of the stove and taking care not to burn the food, gave him a cautious stare. He had already told him the whole business of Rukawa's unexpected departure, but he still did not feel very comfortable speaking about it, all the more knowing full well that Koshino had never been in favour of their relationship.
"I don't know," Sendoh said honestly. It had been convenient to avoid talking about the issue that made him feel so afraid, but he knew he would not be able to ignore it much longer.
"You haven't talked about it?"
"No."
"Well, are you going to?"
Sendoh set the spoon aside and did not speak. What was the point of responding when he already knew what Koshino was going to say?
"Nobody understands you two. I've never approved of your relationship with him, and you know it. It's so fucking perfect that it seems fake. All the decisions are made by you; he never says what he wants, he only does what you ask him. You never fight or argue. Sometimes I think you do not even have to talk to each other. You cannot call that a relationship."
"He does make his own decisions," Sendoh countered. "He's the one who decided to leave, isn't he?" Even as he said it, he knew already how ridiculous his argument was.
"Yes, something that will break your strange relationship," Koshino replied sarcastically. "Maybe that's the best thing."
"Perhaps."
"But you do not want it to happen."
"Yet I cannot ask him to stay."
"Are you crazy? Whether or not you are far apart, it shouldn't be important if you really are the couple you pretend to be. But he is not in this relationship. He never was. If he leaves, it is very likely that he will never return. Will you go after him? Even if he does come back, do you think he will still want to be with you? And if by some miracle he does not go, how long do you think you can keep maintaining this farce?"
"I already know that! I've known it for a long time! But I do not want to take that step. I love him and I do not understand why. I don't want to accept that he does not love me. I try to... I try to be patient with what I want. And for every decision I make I always worry that maybe I can't make him happy, and he might decide to leave me. It's a constant fear, and yet I still prefer it to being thrown aside." He laughed without grace. "I'm a coward."
"You are just a man in love."
"And that is what is sinking me..."
"Then ask yourself if you prefer to drown for lack of your own strength, or because he was not strong enough to save you."
"That is just selfish."
"If you think that love is not selfish, that means you do not know it. And I'm not talking about the love you have for him, but for yourself."
3.
The months passed much faster than expected. Already within days of leaving, and still neither Rukawa nor Sendoh had broached the issue. Whenever Sendoh had brought the matter up, it was only to talk about supporting him as much as possible, from his training to his English classes, and he never passed on an opportunity to help him. And Rukawa? He was not even close to feeling grateful. It was more like a nuisance, so much attention, excessive consideration, as if everything were fake. A perfect act.
That morning, much colder than usual now that summer was ending, they both devoted themselves to packing Rukawa's things. A stack of boxes was already perfectly packed and Sendoh was working on the few belongings that were not yet accommodated while Rukawa folded some essential clothes into a suitcase.
"It's not my plan to go to America," Sendoh spoke as he continued to organise the things.
Rukawa stopped folding clothes and watched him closely, the discomfort in his chest rising one again.
"And I don't think you'll return for more than a few days vacation or Christmas," Sendoh continued. "We will not have the opportunity to be together anymore. It's over."
Rukawa was speechless. That was it? He'd not intended to end things with Sendoh... he had not planned to start them either. Everything had been a succession of events in which Sendoh's enthusiasm and strength were enough to drag him along and make him say "yes" even without knowing if it was what he really wanted.
Rukawa was a genius athlete; basketball was his passion, and on the court he was determined, never hesitating. He exuded confidence in abundance because he was sure of his power, he knew where to go and how to get there. But outside the court the things that did not interest him did not matter. He just went with the flow, without intention, casually evading problems or obstacles that would take time and effort. And as things went on, he'd unconsciously let himself be dragged by Sendoh, his brilliance, how fearless and determined he was when playing. Soon Sendoh had become something no longer irrelevant, not only something confined to the field of sports, but a part of his daily life.
Now he did not know how to deal with it: to come to realise how much he cared about a simple "it's over". He had been dodging the situation until it exploded in his face.
"Rukawa ...?"
Listening to his name brought him back to reality. Sendoh looked at him worriedly, but it was not the same as before. It did not come close.
"Are you okay with that?"
"I could come back for more days, and you could visit on vacation," Rukawa suggested uncertainly.
Sendoh dropped his shoulders and smiled sadly, though he seemed a little grateful.
"Do you really want us to continue? It's better to abandon the illusions. You do not love me, or at least, not enough to continue."
Love. Rukawa heard that word as if it were the strangest thing. Was that what he felt? Could he define love so simply? If what he felt was discomfort and anguish at seeing Sendoh leaving him, could he call that love? Could his love be measured by how much discomfort he felt? What was initially support in his training, then coming to accept that being next to Sendoh was nice, and afterwards following all the fundamentals of relationships - kisses and hugs, sex, sleeping together; all of these things that encompassed the basis of their relationship... was that love?
"I don't... I don't know..." he fumbled his words, trying to find some phrase that expressed how he felt. But talking had never been his forte. The words did not flow.
"I do not want this to end," Sendoh interrupted. "I do not want you to leave. I love you and I want us to continue together. But that is not possible, and I will not be the one to stop you going. The best is for us to finish this. I can do it; I can let you go. But I need you to do the same."
Rukawa still did not understand, or rather, he understood it so well that he refused to accept it. He remained silent, unmoving.
"Not knowing will only give me false hope, and I do not want to live on the basis of believing that I had a chance and I did not fight for it. Tell me this is over Kaede. I'm willing to let it go, but you also have to let go. With a "I do not know" I'm going to keep hoping. I'll keep trying to tilt the scales in my favour."
The silence in the room was not the answer Sendoh needed. He needed this to be finalized, not left in ellipses.
"I'm leaving," he said. "I know you will do well in America." He couldn't seem to say the word goodbye.
Then, even though his mind screamed at him to just leave without saying or doing anything more, he couldn't resist but to approach him, to hug him, thinking that this would be the last time he would have the opportunity to do so.
He was weak before Rukawa. He brought his nose to his hair and breathed deeply, desperate to find a reason relevant enough to make him stay, some sign from Rukawa. But his body was just standing there without moving, without reciprocating the hug, or moving away, totally motionless.
"It'll be easier for you if I'm not around. We are not kids anymore. I understand if you do not want to continue with this," he insisted.
Rukawa remained silent.
"Somewhere along the way I knew it was not going to work, but I wanted to prove to myself that I was wrong. I know I should not be selfish, but I hoped you would fight for what we have."
Silence.
"Just say it, Rukawa, do not leave me like this," he begged, every second more hurt, frustrated with himself for not knowing how to give up, and annoyed with Rukawa.
Would it be a lie to say that he wanted to be with Sendoh? Rukawa did not know the answer to that question. He'd never noticed it. He had never given importance to such questions; why should he when things were perfect between them, being together, having sex, kissing. Was that not what couples were supposed to do? The two of them followed the protocol perfectly. Why now were things distorted to the point of breaking? He could not face such circumstances, it was too great a burden to bear. But Sendoh urged him to do it. What could he answer? A truth, or a lie, when he did not even know which was which.
"If I leave I will not come back," Sendoh concluded, annoyed with himself. Why did not he understand Rukawa's cold response, accept reality, and leave? It was stupid to listen to his own foolishness and keep insisting.
Rukawa stood feeling as if he had been slapped.
Sendoh felt increasingly desperate, almost defeated.
What could be worse than losing something you want with all your soul?
Losing something that was never yours.
"Ask me to stay," he said into Rukawa's silence, playing his last card because he was an idiot who refused to accept that Rukawa would not fight for them, that he did not care about their relationship, that he did not love him. If he needed to beg, he would. But he could not force him to love him; it would be stupid and selfish to claim Rukawa as his own and keep insisting that it was real when it was false. Fighting a battle in which Rukawa did not want to be was pathetic and arrogant; to command someone else's feelings was stupid, yet he would be content to know that for even a moment he held space in Rukawa's mind.
It was not that he feared change, only that he knew the difference between what he could have, and what he must release.
"I need to hear it, Kaede," he continued, stroking his name like a drug to an addict. He felt Rukawa's body tremble in his arms, at that moment submissive and weak. It displeased him; it was not like Rukawa to be so conflicted. "If you do not tell me, I cannot stay. I refuse to act for both of us. I can decide for myself, but not for you. Even if you are with me, if you do not say it, I will always have the doubt that there is a possibility that I was wrong in deciding for us both. I want to be with you not because I need it, but because you want it," he said, observing minutely how Rukawa avoided his gaze. "If you do not have any reason to be with me, this will not work."
Long and heavy seconds passed, moments of uncertainty in which Sendoh hoped to find even the most meagre signal to invite him to stay. He knew they should be tentative, he worried that maybe they were too young for a real commitment, however, he was completely sure of what he wanted, and he was prepared to suffer for it if necessary. There was no reason to believe that he was doing this wrong. He deserved something real, not out of arrogance, but for simple self-respect. He was prepared to suffer because of the consequences of his decisions, but not because of mistakes that he could have avoided with the simplicity of letting go. If Rukawa did not feel ready or did not want this in the same way, then it was better to end it rather than playing with fire and knowing full well that they would get burnt.
But he needed to hear it from Kaede's lips.
The first thing Rukawa did was give him a significant blow to the shoulder.
"Damn you!" he burst out, still not meeting his eyes. A second blow. "I can't tell you something like that!"
Sendoh looked at him in amazement; it was the first time he'd ever heard him exclaim so loudly. But even so, it was still a cry almost devoid of emotion, only spoken louder. His voice was bland, but it was his body that expressed the contained emotions: his tense shoulders, the vein marked on his neck from tightening his jaw for so long, his breathing agitated. It obviously troubled him to have to speak his feelings aloud.
"You cannot, or you do not want to?" Sendoh replied knowing that the situation hung in the balance. He pressed him because he was not sure that Rukawa would ever dare to speak, and he needed to get him out of his comfort zone. If he could not do it now when it was so required, it would be very childish on his part to expect him to be able to do so later.
"Why do you insist so much?"
"Because I need to know that you are capable of fighting for us! That you will not just abandon me if I cannot find for myself a reason to stay."
"I can't. I don't know what to do or how to act. I don't have anything to give you," he replied, stepping back. "You want someone who is just like you, but I can never be."
Rukawa could only breathe, listening to the sound of the door of his apartment closing.
The pain of the migraine woke him. It was early; there were still several hours before his flight. It was his last day in Japan. The previous afternoon he had gone out with his companions, or rather his friends had kidnapped him to spend their last day together. All of them were kind and enthusiastic, offering their best wishes, even Sakuragi in his own strange way. Rukawa had received farewell gifts, and endless pieces of advice that he was sure were hardly sound. What he had experienced was good. He'd felt accepted and in some ways grateful. Even so, he asked them not to go to the airport to see him off. He had had enough shouts, congratulations and good wishes, and he had no inclination to accept them all over again. While he had at first imagined how annoying it would be to have so many send-offs at the airport, now he was beginning to think he had refused them more because he did not feel he really deserved them.
Rukawa got up, cursing himself for not remembering where he had left the medication. He needed a painkiller as a matter of urgency; his headache was terrible. He looked at all the boxes stacked in a corner. They would be sent by sea once he had established his new place to stay. He began to search, feeling more and more annoyed, opening boxes labelled as clothes, books, music and junk, knowing that he would have to repack everything, but hardly caring. He just wanted a goddamn pill like he could so easily buy in any store. But right now he wanted the damn pills in his own damn house and he could not remember where he'd put them.
His stubborn search led him to pull a small box from one of the packages. Inside were the few things that Sendoh had given him, along with photographs that they had taken together. It was a very small box, without a label, that he did not remember having packed. In the photos he saw Sendoh's smile, how he looked at him with that particular expression, always able to animate and give strength. There were the gloves he'd gifted to him last winter, and the keychain in the form of a basketball. There were the tickets of all the matches they'd attended together, and the list of songs they'd suggested to each other. It was a small box. Yet in the course of so many months, it had not been filled.
Sendoh had not filled it. He had dedicated himself to it, but had not been able to do it. He was one of the most dedicated people Rukawa knew, never giving up on things, and yet he could not fill a small box of memories.
The desire to fill it up grew over Rukawa. Perhaps if he passed it to Sendoh, then Sendoh could fill it by adding in what Rukawa had given..? But he'd never given him anything.
Rukawa had in his hands the struggle of a single person to keep a relationship afloat. A single person in a relationship of two. Where had he been?
Why in the memories of a relationship was there only the efforts of one?
Sendoh had not managed to fill a small box, not because he had given up, but because Rukawa had prevented him. It was obvious that without reason to continue filling the box, it would be empty. Their relationship was perfect because it was of one person.
The pangs of the migraine became twice as painful. It was as if his subconscious were asking him to stop behaving like a complete imbecile and start acting. But what should he do? Rukawa looked at the photos and tried to find the answer to an issue he was not sure he even understood. Soon he was going to fulfil his dream. Nothing was going to change that; he was completely sure that it was what he wanted to do. And there he was on the cold floor of his room, with the boxes open and untidy, trying to find a pill to soothe his pain, seeing the memories of a relationship in which he had never been a participant, and now thinking that his body was screaming at him not to be an idiot. Should he try to talk to Sendoh? Try to reunite with him, within hours of leaving, after months of not caring, and having rejected the countless opportunities that Sendoh had given him to stay?
It was not a matter of cruelty, or being some good-for-nothing who only acts at the last moment; it was that he was not even now sure that his feelings corresponded to those of Sendoh. He did not have little hearts fluttering around him to tell him that he was in love. There were no butterflies in his stomach, no trembling legs. The image of Sendoh did not appear in his mind when he closed his eyes. Nothing indicated he was in love. To present himself before Sendoh with all the same doubts and confusion would be a cruel mockery of the sincere love that Sendoh had for him.
He closed the small box, grimacing in pain. He came to the conclusion that he could not possibly be in love. Of that, at least, he could be sure.
In the end he paid for pills and a bottle of water and took them out of the store. The sunlight hurt his eyes and the noise from the street was all but unbearable. He did not even want to imagine what his flight would be like if the migraine did not subside. He walked slowly through the streets, not very busy at that time. In a way, it was obvious why he had this headache. He had already figured it out, but stubborn as he was, he was still in a phase of denial. Surely, he told himself, it was bound to be stress from the trip. Of course, he knew he had had months to prepare, and he certainly felt more excited than anguished. Of course in reality he knew the trip had nothing to do with it.
For the first time since they had started dating, he had Sendoh on his mind. His image fluttering from side to side. Every thought began or ended with him, until it was exasperating. Rukawa had never given him such importance, so why now did it turn out that he could not get him out of his head? Had he not realized how much he needed him by his side, until he wasn't there? And anyway, did he even really need him, or was this feeling just custom or habit? Surely in a few days he would be able to forget Sendoh and everything he meant to him.
He stopped walking.
That line of thought did not make sense. Something seemed strange. Forget? Would he be able to forget Sendoh? Not in the literal sense, but the moments that happened with him, what Rukawa had felt in those moments. But, feel? What did he feel? Although in general he had always believed that it was not relevant, what were his feelings in those precise moments when he was with Sendoh? Usually they were quiet moments, although Sendoh knew how to talk just enough, his voice always relaxing. There was security, trust, strength in being together. Sometimes Rukawa wanted to kill him because of how suffocating his adoration could be, but he was also grateful to witness his smile, a smile for him...
Pleasure. Not just a physical state. It was emotionally pleasurable.
Have he ever really felt such a varied range of emotions? Yes, playing basketball. Maybe not the same feelings, but with the same intensity. How could he not have noticed? Because while on the court everything was explosive and competitive, but with Sendoh it was the other side of the coin, something much more serene and peaceful.
Before meeting Sendoh, and for a while afterwards, he'd only felt emotions on the court. Such emotions had been proof not only that he was alive, but that he enjoyed living. And the monochromatic world outside of basketball - that colourless world that bored him - had not mattered to him. He'd disdained from participating in that. And his obstinacy of not wanting to see beyond the ball had prevented him from noticing how Sendoh, little by little, began to colour his world. So subtle it was almost insignificant, but nevertheless leaving traces wherever he touched the sphere of Rukawa's existence. Now, he could also live off the court.
If he forgot Sendoh, would he forget everything?
Rukawa was afraid to know the answer. Returning to the monochromatic world was not an option, not after being able to distinguish that life was so much more than basketball and sleeping.
Was that enough to say that he wanted to be with Sendoh?
Devotion could be presented in different ways, and he had had the opportunity to know his passion from an early age and had taken advantage of it. But that did not mean that it was the only enjoyable thing in life, or even necessary. His teammates had taught him to feel the satisfaction of sharing a triumph, or the bitter taste of defeat. Teamwork, and friendship, and he was sure that he would continue to learn along the same paths in America, with the new teammates he would meet on the new teams in which he would play. He would have new friends, and new people to relate to. That was not something that he was focused on, but he accepted it willingly.
If the influence of companions did not bother him, why was he so determined to deny Sendoh's relevance to his life?
Rukawa continued on his way, and by the time he arrived home his headache had subsided considerably. He looked at the open boxes and began to fix them up again. It took him less time than he'd imagined, and when he was finished he ate whatever he could find. Even after that he still had a couple of hours before he would need to show up at the airport.
He decided to go.
He walked at a rapid pace, hoping he could do things properly.
He had refused to accept the influence, the need, and all the emotions that Sendoh gave him or forced him to feel, because unlike his other companions who were among many, he could not imagine another person capable of giving him what Sendoh gave to him. He did not want to imagine it. But it was not simply denial, he had just come to understand that it was only him.
It would always only be him.
But why? What made Sendoh so special? And what made Rukawa so sure he did not want it to be anyone else who had such power to influence him to such a magnitude?
Questions continued to assail him, questioning even the meagre conclusions he had managed to reach...
Oh well. Sometimes, one did not need explanations. One should just accept the flow and go along with it. He had had the answer from the beginning and he had completely sabotaged himself. What irony.
"Sendoh does not want to see you. You'd better go."
Rukawa totally ignored Koshino's words, determined that he would not leave until he had spoken to Sendoh. He stood firmly in front of him, waiting for him to give way.
"Did you not hear me? There is nothing for you here! You wasted your opportunity, so go and learn to lose."
Rukawa, hands in his pockets, reined in his anger at Koshino's words. How right he was, and how greatly it had screwed up his existence. But he was finally here, ready to fight, sure of himself. He could not afford to mess things up again. He clenched his fists to calm himself. Why the hell had he forgotten to bring his cell phone? Music might have helped him calm down.
Koshino did not take his eyes off him, observing every detail; maybe Rukawa's face was expressionless, but not his body. That was what Sendoh had once told him, something that hadn't interested him much at the time, however now Koshino found himself trying to spot any sign that would prevent him from just hitting him and throwing him out of his damn home. Enough damage had already done to his friend to tolerate Rukawa carrying on. If it wasn't for how much Sendoh loved him, Koshino would not even have given him the time of day.
"I do not agree with this," he snarled, venom and rancour in each word. "You hurt him, and now you dare to show up here? This is not a game. Sendoh is not the kind of person who deserves to be hurt. He put his trust in you, and you can't imagine how hurt he was because you were not able to speak out of cowardice. You do not deserve him."
He was right in each and every one of his words. And even then Rukawa kept standing there waiting, because although he could not talk, he knew he had to act.
"I'm going to fix things with him," was all he said.
Koshino bit his tongue. He hated that, too; Rukawa's stupid confidence bordering on arrogance. The way nothing seemed to move him, and his insolence to show up at the apartment to see Sendoh, knowing he would only hurt him more. And at the same time with the same stupid impudence that he could simply fix everything, without hesitation.
"I do not approve of this," Koshino said before reluctantly stepping aside and retreating.
Rukawa walked in without thinking about how he was going to approach Sendoh, or what he would tell him. Thinking only brought complications and problems. He just had to do the same thing he did on the court; attack without thinking about the consequences. Just do it.
Upon reaching Sendoh's room, out of habit he opened the door without knocking. He found him lying on his bed reading a book. Sendoh stood up immediately, surprised and confused. Rukawa took advantage of his confusion to enter and close the door behind him.
"You're going to miss your flight," Sendoh told him in surprise. Even in these strained circumstances, his first thought was of Rukawa's welfare.
"I do not know how to love," Rukawa announced, coming to the point. "I also have no idea how to prove to you that... you are important, and I do not want to lose you. That's the only thing I'm sure of. I need you."
"Thanks, but it's not enough. Being something you need, but being so separated, is going to last us how long? Months? Maybe a couple of years?"
"To say that I love you is no guarantee of staying together either," Rukawa interrupted. "Nothing is safe. I can never give you the security you're looking for, but I still want to be with you."
"You want to be with me? Why so suddenly...?"
"There's no reason," he interrupted again. "I just want you."
Sendoh gave a weak laugh. He had said much the same to Koshino days before, how he loved Rukawa without knowing why, and it was the truth. He did not understand why he was so determined to be with him - he was anti-social, speaking only in few harsh words, and the only thing in his head apart from sleeping was playing basketball. Rukawa did not have qualities that attracted people beyond his physical appearance, and yet his body was the last thing Sendoh thought of. He just wanted to continue for another day with him, to know that they shared this exclusive intimacy, something that was just the two of them.
"I love you," he said, looking Rukawa straight in the eye. "I have no idea why. Is that enough for you?"
"So long as you do not leave me, it is."
Sendoh wanted to move closer, hug him, kiss him and hold him tightly in his arms. However, if he succumbed to those desires, he knew he would not be able to let go, and he did not intend to be the one to hold him back.
Rukawa glanced at the time on the clock on the wall. If he did not leave, he would miss his flight.
"I have to go," he said with a bittersweet feeling in his mouth.
"I know." I know that, he thought. Go and show them what you are capable of.
Sendoh watched him go. Saw him turn around and leave the room. He bit his lip and it took all his mental strength not to run after him and ask him not to leave. He would come back, or Sendoh would move closer, it did not matter which. At some point their lives would cross again, and until that happened he would always have that last image of Rukawa smiling at him, a thin curve on his lips, and small creases accompanying tenderness in his eyes. Yes, that smile would give him the strength and encouragement to feed and preserve his feelings for him.
4.
He left the store with a small bag in his hands, a selection of chocolates wrapped in pink paper and decorated with an even pinker ribbon. It was comical and filled with joy. It was Valentine's Day, with its many ornaments; hearts and pastel colours.
In the days before Kaede had left for America, Sendoh had believed that on this day he would be alone and broken-hearted. At that time he had tried to get used to the idea, but he always knew that he could not even truly imagine the pain that he would feel. But things had changed, nothing was certain, and what he had once believed would be a dark day was in fact in a day where nothing and nobody could take the silly smile from his lips. Koshino had scoffed at him, and he could only respond with a wider smile.
He walked through the streets alone, with the little bag in his hands, and the thought of calling Kaede on Skype as soon as he got home. There was no one to walk by his side, and he felt more accompanied than ever in his life.
What face would Kaede make seeing the chocolates? One of annoyance, Sendoh was sure, and the thought filled him with joy.
They were together. Hundreds of thousands of kilometres away, but together.
Everything was perfect.
But turning the last block to his apartment, he stopped short.
Kaede was standing there, a few meters away, in front of him, with a suitcase at his side and the same old expression. Always the same.
Akira squeezed the small bag between his fingers and strode up, fast, unable to contain his emotion, desperate to have him at his side. He hugged him tightly, closing his eyes, silent, just breathing in his scent. It was almost enough to make him cry to feel how Kaede responded, holding him forcefully by the shirt, clenching his fists in the fabric, equally desperate.
They separated after a few short minutes.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Akira said, stroking his cheek. He had never felt so close, or so intimate.
"It's not a special date for me," Rukawa responded shortly, pushing his hand away.
Akira smiled, trying to hide disappointment at his typical cold manner. There was nothing to complain about; that was Kaede, and that was all he wanted. But his meagre smile turned to amazement to feel Kaede intertwining their fingers, not breaking their gaze, his black eyes full of feeling. His simple gesture was greater than any set of meaningless, empty words, prefabricated phrases that barely scratched the surface of truth. All Sendoh's ideas, his attempts to confirm his feelings, his clinging to uncertain hopes were broken by that simple act. Their fingers were linked with such determination that he felt tiny and meagre before Kaede's confidence where there was no room for doubt or uncertainty.
"Happy Valentines," Kaede told him.
"I thought you were not interested?"
"And I'm not... but you are," he said a slow voice, as if to emphasize the obvious.
"Kaede," he breathed low, his voice dropping by octaves. Kaede did not look embarrassed, just a little uncomfortable.
In that moment, Akira wanted to see his embarrassed expression.
He approached, slowly, savouring the moment, squeezing his fingers and smiling when Kaede returned the same gesture. Their lips touched tentatively, recognising and remembering. The movements were languid and ephemeral, as if they did not want to approach, holding onto the moment, the feeling of hunger, of despair, torturing themselves until their own bodies could take no more, the need to break the limit becoming overpowering.
They were walking to the edge of the abyss, ready to fall, while the moment lengthened, league by league until they were about to break. All because they could, wanted to, and had the luxury of letting themselves tumble.
Kaede was the first to fall, clutching Akira and pulling him down with him. Their lips united in a deep, passionate kiss, ready to descend with promises of union and pure, perfect pleasure. For the first time Kaede really felt what it meant to want to kiss, or hug, to be the very centre. And finally he knew why Akira was able to smile, knowing that he was not the only one who felt this way. It was like living the first love, the first kiss, a real kiss, real feelings, and a desire to want the future to arrive as soon as possible.
-the end
thanks for reading x