So this is pretty much based from my new fave film (a local film) and I couldn't help but think of the situation. And me, being the lover of angst, just wanted to write this down.

I originally opted for Akaashi, but realized that he was too quiet of a guy, even though he'd seem like the musically inclined kind of guy. So I went for Semi, because I love him so much as a character. And there isn't much love for Semi.

You are that demon coach of Shiratorizawa's granddaughter, so you inherited some of his demonic-ness. And you secretly have been in love with a certain third year pinch server for a while now.

Also, if this makes little sense, I apologize. I'll get to them as soon as I can.

SONGS I LISTENED TO WHILE WRITING: When We Were Young by Adele and Fernando Daniel's cover (this is what reader is singing at the end and I think is this fic's theme song), Pangarap Lang Kita by Parokya ni Edgar (All time fave OPM)

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot

You know what sucks about childhood friends? It was fucking cliché, that one of the two was bound to fall for other. One day, he's just that snotty little boy you tagged along with almost every day, the next; you're in love with him.

It was inevitable, more like an accident really.

You didn't mean to fall in love with him, you just did.

But that's not the worst part.

The worst part is the other cliché of childhood friends; they don't feel the same way you do. And that sucks.

No, that's not the worst part. The worst part is having to keep your feelings a secret, lest you endanger your precious friendship for years.

Years.

For twenty long years.

Long enough that you two were at the pinnacle of your academic lives, finishing college and preparing yourselves for the real world.

Because as far as you knew, this was the part where things change, where reality comes right in and snatches the two of you.

The end was near.

You two have a shared taste for music, him pursuing Filmography to be a sound director, while you simply played in general, opting to be a script writer. Music bonded you two, despite liking different genres; you both were always willing to share your favorite with the other. Movie soundtracks, most especially. You both loved a good movie boasting an amazing soundtrack.

Which is probably why he announced this music festival outside town, and that you two definitely had to go.

It took a lot of begging from you, since you were adamant on not going because said music festival was going to be the day before graduation, and the trip was exhausting – 6 hours? No thank you! You already memorized the threats from your demon of a grandfather if you weren't attending the ceremony. He wouldn't have it, having reserved dinner, your dress and all. Still, Eita was relentless, giving you the puppy eyes.

God, you were helpless to that, even back in high school.

However, Eita was in your grandfather's good graces, being your childhood friend and all.

In one phone call, he managed to convince your grandfather to go to the music festival, promising to bring you home the morning of your graduation ceremony.

So you said yes – begrudgingly, but on the condition that Satori tagged along.

Eita screamed 'yes', throwing his fist in the air. People were staring, you didn't care.

"You're the best, (Name)!" he tells you, hands on your shoulders with a grin. "I love you, bro."

Satori, who you knew was probably going to get you from spending precious time with his girlfriend, and who'll probably gnaw your ear off for stalling, chuckled quietly beside you at that. He was the only person who knew your feelings for Eita. Well, he wasn't the 'Guess Monster' for nothing.

"You owe me, (Name)-chan." He whispered, watching as the light blonde teen walked away happily.

"Yeah, yeah," you said back, squaring your shoulders, already reminding yourself to buy the newest issue of Shonen Jump!

Satori sighs – long and low, you mentally counted to ten. Here it comes. "(Name)-chan, you're helpless when it comes to Eita-kun."

"Shut up." You tell him, even though he was right.

"Every request he has, no matter how silly they are, you just can't resist."

Groaning, you kick him in the shin, earning a shriek from him. "Don't remind me."

Rubbing at his bruised leg, he turns to you. "Still, this'll be an interesting trip."

Turning to him, you raised a brow, skeptical. "Why do you say that?"

Humming, the redhead stares off at the university buildings, intuition building. "Well, this could be (Name)-chan's chance to finally tell Eita-kun how she feels about him. Or am I wrong?" he looks at you slyly.

His statement catches you off-guard. Blushing, you look away. Satori snickers at you.

The thought hadn't occurred to you, but you might as well.

So yes, that weekend you were fueled up with the idea that you could confess to Eita. It was all you thought of. And it was perfect. A music festival? It was picturesque and romantic.

Music blared through from your iPod, filling Eita's car with life. It was a long drive, might as well fill in the silence. You, Eita and Satori sang through each song that played. Every now and then, you or Eita would throw in a trivia about the song or the movie.

Satori pretty much made himself at home at the backseat, never ceasing to mention that Eita's Volkswagen Bus is as tacky as his casual outfit. You cracked at that.

"You know, I could always drop you off in the middle of nowhere." Came Eita's warning, the car slowly cruised at the green light. But the smile on his face said otherwise.

"You love me anyway, Eita-kun~"

"Go eat shit."

"Oh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Satori leaned in, resting behind Eita's seat with a childish pout. "And here I thought you were the mother hen of the team."

"What the fuck?"

"Ah, it was either you or Hayato-kun? Maybe Leon-kun?"

"Satori, I will seriously drop you in the middle of nowhere."

Just listening to them argue reminded you of high school, you silently enjoyed it. It was a wonder how you survived a pack of rowdy teenage boys back in high school, keeping them in check (in the old demonic Washijo family fashion).

Leaning against the window, you watched Eita from the corner of your eye, admiring his frame in the twilight. Nothing has changed much of Eita since high school; he was still hot-headed, stoic, nurturing like a mom, driven, fiercely loyal, with tacky fashion. He was still that same Eita you knew and loved.

"Ah! But (Name)-chan is the true mother of the team!" Satori blurted, turning to you. "You were such a tsun-tsun, much worse than Eita-kun, always fawning Tsutomu."

"That's true." Eita says, turning to you. "You always had a weak spot for the underclassmen."

"Don't make me unleash my ultimate form," you teased with a smirk. For a moment, the two shuddered, and then, three of you broke into fits of laughter.

You have no idea what time it is or how you got into your hotel room, but your head hurts like a motherfucker – like a sledgehammer was slamming it repeatedly. The sheets feel soft, too soft, like they were teasing you not to get up. Last night was a bit of a blur, but you do remember arriving at the resort, Eita had just finished checking you in before Satori dragged you to the bar for some 'girl trouble' talk, when it was really Satori questioning your motives.

Of course, that lead to a long discussion that you just went along because it sounded like fun. But Satori would have none of it, calling you out for stalling.

"(Name)-chan, don't you ever get tired?" he asks you, head on his palm.

Half-drunk, with half your face in your arms, you look up to meet your redhead friend's concerned gaze. Sighing, you play with your shot glass. "I do, Satori…just…"

"(Name)-chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan." He whines, slurs. "You're making me sad!"

You down your shot. "Life is sad."

"Now you're just bein' dramatic." Taking the shot glass from your hands, he pours himself another shot, beer close. Your eyes trail on the transparent liquid filling the small glass. "It's your last year of college, could possibly be your last chance." Although heavy with alcohol, his voice held a serious tone, something rare to find from someone like him. "Yes, he'll always be your best friend. But let's be real, once college is over, reality's a nasty bitch that'll straight up snatch you two off. Confessing is hit or miss, (Name)-chan."

Frowning, pulling out your upper lip, you grab the shot glass.

"Better now or never," his voice was low, never losing its serious tone. "but mostly better now, because you never know when your next time will be."

Turning your head, you groan at your throbbing head, cursing Satori. God how you hated hangovers.

When you open your eyes, you were greeted by the most beautiful sight of your sleeping best friend.

God, he looked like an angel.

Again, you cursed at Satori.

He was the one who carried you back to your room last night, so this obviously was his doing.

But you can't help admiring the sleeping angel before you.

Sighing dreamily, you stared on, admiring his cheekbones, his strong jawline, and his defined nose. And behind those closed eyelids, held the most beautiful pair of brown orbs that rivaled even the finest jewels. Tentatively, you reached out to tuck wayward blond hair away from his handsome face. He stirred at your touch, but didn't wake up.

He was so perfect.

You loved this version of Eita: the unguarded, relaxed version of him. Gentle snores escaped his mouth, faintly smelling of mint. When he was like this, all of life's discomfort escapes him, even his frustrations and insecurities. He seemed so vulnerable.

Unable to help yourself, you take your phone from your pocket, wanting to take a photo of sleeping Eita.

Click!

To your horror, your flash was on and the sounds were on. Eita's face crinkled, groaning – a sign that he was waking. Not wanting to be caught, you were quick to put on a smile as if you were talking a selfie, just as his eyes opened, you brought your phone close to your face.

"Just woke up look," you mutter, eyes on your phone. "Damn, I look pretty."

Running a hand through his hair, he blinked at you.

"Morning, Eita." You greet casually, hopping off to the bathroom.

"Wow, somebody got up on the right side of their bed." Satori commented, sitting next to you.

Memories of this morning rushed through your head, causing the smile of your face to seem criminal. Leaning against the redhead, you simply say, "You are an asshole, you know that?"

Satori smiles, ruffling your hair.

Laughing, you swat his hand away, resting your chin on his shoulder. "Hey, want to get some ice cream?"

Those magical words brightened the redhead's eyes. "Would I ever! Can I have chocolate?"

"Of course you can." You tell him, slinging your arm in his.

The beach bounds was where the music festival was going to be held – the stage was already set, people were beginning the flock the area, and already, they were setting up booze. Thankfully, you and Satori came across an ice cream stall, the redhead eagerly munching on his treat. You got yourself a (favorite flavor), savoring its sweet taste under the scorching sun.

"By the way, where's Eita-kun?" Satori asked, an arm around your shoulder.

You shrug, watching the waves from where you two stood. "He just said that he's going to meet up with someone and we'll just see him by the beach."

Satori hums, not before an obnoxious ringtone blares. Fast like lightning, he fishes out his phone and sees a text from his girlfriend, face lightening up.

"Trouble in paradise?" you ask, finishing your ice cream.

"Nah, she just misses me s'all."

You smile for him, happy that he's found his significant other. Which reminds you, you should be looking for your significant other.

"C'mon," you call, once he's finished replying to his girlfriend. "Let's go find, Eita."

Half an hour later, after curiously looking at stalls and watching a beach volley game, you find a familiar hide of light blond hair with ash tips.

Both of you stopped when you spotted Eita – perfect as always despite his tacky fashion. You lifted your hand for a friendly wave, he sees you, waving back enthusiastically. He was grinning, face flushed. Your hands freeze, realizing he wasn't alone.

He was with a pretty girl.

Spotting you, he leans in to her, she nods, and they walk towards you both, hand-in-hand. Quickly, you plaster a smile on your face.

"(Name), Satori, hey, uh…" he scratches his cheek. "this is Kaori."

Satori darted his eyes from you to Kaori, dark haired, fair skinned, green eyed beautiful Kaori. If the sudden appearance of Kaori changed the mood, he didn't let it show.

Even before he introduced her, you know exactly who she was.

How could you not? Having been witness to the bottles of beer in his room, lifeless Eita you had to drag away from his depression, the many nights he wallowed in despair, the beauty in a frame you hated so much.

"Hi." Even her voice was beautiful, elegant and mature. "I'm Kaori."

Eita was looking at her as if she was the only thing he saw, you saw love swimming in those beautiful brown eyes. A crack broke through your heart at that, because that's exactly how you saw him.

"She's my ex-girlfriend."

And her being here meant one thing–

"We're getting back together."

Eight bottles of beer later.

Or was it ten? You weren't sure.

But it was enough to hear Eita to tell the tale how he chanced upon her some time ago before finals week. They got talking, and talking, and talking, until they eventually talked about them, how there never was closure between them. And then, she invited him here.

Satori was off elsewhere. Apparently, his girlfriend was attending the music festival as well, and he wanted to meet up with her, leaving you two alone. He had wished you 'good luck' before leaving.

You listened as Eita talked, listened as how he spoke of Kaori. She was a chapter in his life that was never done.

"Can you imagine?" he sat on the other bed, leaning back to watch the ceiling. "After five years, here she is. Beautiful as the day we broke up."

You snorted at that, hating how cheesy it sounded. Eita joined in, taking a swig of his beer.

"And yet, she still holds me heart."

And then, he fetched his guitar. You watched him strum with his guitar, he brought it along because his performance earlier.

God, how you swooned when he sang on stage.

God, he was so beautiful. Why was he so beautiful? Did the gods just decide that you befriend one of the loveliest creatures to walk the face of the earth? Not only was he gifted with athletic prowess, but he was good with the guitar.

Probably taken by the alcohol, you take your guitar from him. And he lets you. Though, curiosity clouds over him as he watches you half-drunkenly fix the guitar on your lap.

Sniffling, you let your fingers dance along the chords, producing random sounds. Finally, you settled on something, playing a low melody.

You didn't mean to play this song, didn't mean to sing your heart out, but you did.

Through the darkness that filled the room, the light from the lamp and the moonlight seeping in, you could feel his gaze on you, as if putting you on stage, spotlight and all.

When you finish, a pregnant silence filled in.

You could hear both your breathing, your heart beating. You could almost hear his.

"I love you," you say without looking up. You miss the look on his face, of absolute shock. "for twenty years now."

It must be the alcohol talking, making you braver to confess your innermost feelings to your best friend – the same best friend you've been in love with for years, the same one you'd risk countless stupid things just to keep him smiling, the same guy in front of you who's likely to get back with his ex-girlfriend.

And where does that leave you?

You knew he didn't feel the same way you did.

Simple as that.

And yet, you can't help it.

Unable to contain yourself, you let your tears flow, emotions getting the best of you.

This is so hard. You tell yourself, hating how pathetic you were looking in front of him. I'm so stupid.

Eita then moved towards you, taking the guitar from your arms, you use that opportunity to cover your face, embarrassed to even face him as you cried. You felt him sit in front of you, unsure with how he should approach you. You almost wish he would leave you to your misery.

But he wouldn't. Never would.

He takes you in his arms, engulfing you into a hug, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. Not that it helped lessen the pain in your heart.

How could you be so stupid? So carried away? And what were you expecting? For him to magically love you back?

Not a word was spoken between you two, just your sobs filling the room.

Eita touched your wrist, taking them away from your face; you let him, allowing him to see you in your most vulnerable state. Gently he cupped your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

Then he leaned in, kissing your left eye, your right eye – each kiss was feathered, light, lingering. His nose caressing your skin as his kiss lowered to both your cheeks until his nose bumped unto yours.

He was but a hairsbreadth away, his breathe fanning, making you dizzy with that and the proximity. And before you knew it, his lips were on yours – hesitant, slow, and careful, as if testing the waters.

Tentatively, he tried again. This time, you met him head-on, giving slow, deliberate kisses.

Time seems to stop as you two kiss, mind drawing a blank as if nothing seems to matter. Each kisses getting hotter, deeper. It felt so good to be kissing him, to feel his rough hands running to your sides. With one hand, you grab massage the hair on his nape, and with the other, you held on to his strong shoulders.

This was almost too good to be true.

Though in your intoxicated state, you knew this wasn't right. He wasn't yours.

So as he nipped your neck, you wrapped your arms around him, stopping him, relishing in his warmth.

You cry, knowing that he was probably just as drunk as you were and the knowledge that he could never love you the same way. Knowing all these hurt.

He stopped kissing you, just hung over you as you hugged him, burying your nose into his shoulder, relishing in his scent.

You loved him, you really do. There was never a moment when you couldn't imagine not loving him, flaws and all.

But it was for naught.

You love him.

But he didn't love you.

Pushing him away, you turned your back to him – missing the helpless look in his face – falling straight to sleep. You could feel his gaze on you even with your back turned.

Eventually, you heard him sigh, and then he went back to his bed.

And that was it.

The next morning, you left.

Left before Eita could wake up.

But for your last hurrah, you promised Kaori a performance. So you obliged.

Satori texted, expressing his sadness for your situation and a car ride back home. You obliged. They were leaving right after your performance.

You spent the remainder of your hours staring at the ocean, watching the waves crash and burn, the sky paint from blue to orange to purple. The wind blew wildly at your hair and you let it. The sun kissing your skin, warming you though you felt cold on the inside.

Before you knew it, someone was sitting beside you, keeping a respectable distance. You didn't have to turn to know who it was. Neither was there a need to say something, it was all said and done last night.

But Eita, he was too nice.

"(Name)…" your name, it never failed to make your heart skip coming from his mouth. "I'm sorry…"

You say nothing, eyes on the water. The silence filling in was frustrating.

"Don't be," you say, finally. "you didn't love me back."

That shut him up. It was cold, but it was the truth.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Far ahead, the sun slowly sunk into the horizon. Tourists were taking out their cameras or cellphones, to photo the scene. In another time, you and Eita would be saying how typical it was instead of just enjoying it. Another time, another life time.

"Would it change anything?"

Eita turned to you. You didn't dare look at him, you couldn't bear it.

"It wouldn't, right?" you answer for him, digging your toes into the sand. "And even if it did, I know you'd kindly reject me."

He looked like he wanted to say something but held it in, caught off-guard.

"It's okay, Eita." you turn to him, smiling, but not really. "We can still be best friends." How those words hurt more than ever. "Just…not for now, okay?"

When the sky was dark and the first star appeared, you took that as your cue. Getting up from the sand, you walked towards the stage, leaving Eita, refusing to look back.

Taking the mic from a smiling Kaori, you smiled back – weakly, before taking stage, sitting on the stool. (Eye color) eyes look up to meet eyes of many, but a pair of brown eyes stands out the most. As the guitar begins, your gaze doesn't break.

You hold it, wishing for time to stop, wanting those eyes to swallow you whole.

Maybe just a minute?

A second?

Only when Kaori appears by his side do you break away first.

You sing the first part of the song before you could break.

Maybe that's why they were called clichés, because they were stupid, atypical, overused.

With this, you hope you can finally move on.

Despite the pain, you were thankful for Eita.

Because no matter how much it hurt, you'll always remember your first love.