Change Nothing
1
Song
It shouldn't have been different from any other rainy day. Outside the twilight mansion, thick sheets of rain pelted the ground and soaked into the earth. The boy rushed through the torrential downpour towards the front door, fumbling with his wet keys before giving up and knocking with angry force. He was let inside by one of the servants who he barely acknowledged before racing up the stairs to their shared room.
His partner looked up from the book he was reading, taking his disheveled appearance in stride. "Forget an umbrella again?"
"The hell do you mean? You know I don't keep one of those things around," came the irritable reply. He didn't mind being soaked. His skin actually enjoyed the cold dampness. He did however care that his clothing was sticking to him like second skin. It felt like he had been wrapped in plastic. Suffocating.
Shusei got up from his prone position on the bed, lifting a towel out of the top dresser drawer and placing it over Hotsuma's head. Pressing gently, he kept his voice soft. "You missed dinner again. Do you want me to see if I can get some brought up to you?"
"Already ate." Hotsuma closed his eyes, and the towel soaked up some stray drops that were trailing down his face. Shusei moved the towel lower, mopping at his neck and exposed upper body. Once all of the visible skin was cleaned, Shusei dropped the towel into Hotsuma's lap and moved back, keeping a steady gaze on him.
"That so?"
"Yeah. What about you?" The tone was accusing, but Shusei didn't mind. He knew Hotsuma was annoyed by his reluctance to eat. He shrugged in response, not feeling the urge to lie. Hotsuma would know, anyway.
"Bastard. Do we have to start an I.V. to get food into that body of yours?" Hotsuma lifted his wet shirt over his head, toweling himself off once his skin was uncovered. "One of these days you're going to keel over."
"I'll worry about that when it happens," Shusei replied easily, returning to his book. He had to write a paper on several abstract concepts the novel put forth, and though it wasn't due for another two weeks, he wanted to finish early. Staying ahead of his school work was what allowed him time to help the police in their investigations.
The silence that fell between them like a heavy weight didn't last long. After a few moments of thoughtful quiet, Hotsuma spoke. "Hey, Shusei." Glancing over, Shusei could see that Hotsuma's head was bowed, wet locks of his blond hair falling between them to obscure his face. "How long has it been since you played the piano?"
Shusei had to think for a moment to get the answer. It wasn't any time in the past year, he was certain. Maybe it was a couple of years prior, when the urge to play had come to him with a vengeance. He remembered working on a couple of pieces that he had never played for anyone else, not that he would have wanted anyone other than Hotsuma to hear them. He had written them with only the other boy on his mind.
Noticing that Hotsuma's head was up and he was now looking at him, Shusei lifted his shoulders. "Probably a few years ago. I think. Why?"
"I could use a song," Hotsuma muttered, wrapping the towel over his shoulders like a shawl and using one of the ends to soak some of the rain from his hair. "I've missed hearing you play."
"We can go into the music room, and I can play for you." Shusei smirked, closing his book and placing it facedown on his bed as he took in Hotsuma's indecent appearance. "You may want to put a shirt on, just in case you run into Toko."
"Pfft, yeah, right, she shouldn't be up here. But I guess the last thing I want to hear is her screaming that I stole her innocence again." Hotsuma stood and entered the washroom, and Shusei could hear water running and general fumbling-around noises. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember the melodies he had created last time. Even lifting his hands to invisible keys, nothing came to him. He would just have to play whatever came to his mind the moment he sat at the piano.
That could end badly. He didn't know if his mind would drift into dangerous territory; whether it would become stuck on those events of the recent past that hung in the corners of his memory like thick sludge, unmoving, unchanging. Ghastly reflections of his most pathetic weakness.
Always distorted in the mirror glass, the recrimination on Hotsuma's face when he saw how far I had fallen, how low I sank. I can never forget his pained eyes that perfectly captured my own anguish, cutting my resolve into pieces and making me feel like I had finally succeeded in ending my life.
But he was still alive. After the initial confrontation about the scar, about the hurt and the lies, neither boy had spoken of the incident again. A month ago. Maybe Hotsuma was able to get over it quickly, but the impressions were still searing like red hot burns inside of Shusei's memories. Shame, guilt, regret-- nothing new. Uncertainty, devotion, hope-- delicate, frail threads of those gentler emotions were much harder to handle.
And nothing has changed. Everything that was said-- those were just words. They never meant anything.
That realization must have been why uneasiness continued to grow inside like a weed, tearing down the walls he tried to reconstruct around his heart. Hotsuma was the only one who could even see inside, sometimes, but there was always a distance that Shusei could comfort himself with. I'm safe here.
I'm safe here.
"Shusei?" Eyes shooting open, he saw that the now-fully clothed Hotsuma was leaning startlingly close, his sunset eyes gazing at him with mild concern. "Are ya still on this planet?"
Shusei nodded, standing and leading the way out of the room. They entered the hallway together and took a sharp right, heading down the narrow corridor to the music room at the end of the hall. Takashiro had always encouraged Shusei in his musical endeavors and had moved the music room closer a few years ago in an attempt to jumpstart his playing. It wasn't the older man's fault that the room was collecting dust.
Piano playing-- well-- any musical playing seemed to require a deep connection to emotional energy, good and bad. Drawing on those charged feelings was what allowed music to transform from simple sounds to a touching sensory experience. While Shusei's playing was technically flawless, he sometimes felt that the actual music he produced was hollow, that it might as well not exist.
Except for those two songs of the past. He knew they were more than that because he had felt himself reacting to the melodies as he played them. He had simply closed his eyes, thought of Hotsuma, and created beauty. Though he had not named the songs, he'd told himself to remember them for the future. He had promised himself that he would.
Promised a lot of things.
Shusei pushed the door open and found the light switch, illuminating the lonely room with a pale glow. He heard Hotsuma following him inside, closing the door behind him. Shusei brought his hand to the cherry wood piano bench, swiping it across to remove most of the dust. Hotsuma was coughing behind him, muttering something about being 'unable to breathe in this dank pit.' He smiled.
"It's been awhile," Shusei remarked as he sat, scooting forward until his feet were able to comfortably reach the pedals, his hands resting on top of the covered keys. He slid the cover back and looked at the black and white. His mind was unfortunately devoid of inspiration. I don't know where to start.
Hotsuma leaned heavily against the top of the piano, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So it's been awhile, huh? You still remember how to play?"
Taking a deep breath, Shusei placed his fingers over the keys, waiting for something to spur him to action. He glanced at Hotsuma, giving him a penetrating look before feeling his fingers begin to press down, the beginnings of a song.
He didn't know how it would turn out, so they would find out together.
Hotsuma couldn't help but close his eyes when the music began to swirl though the room in a gorgeous tempest. Shusei's playing was effortless, fueled purely by the boy's unwavering talent. He was at once breathless and spellbound by the sheer magnitude of his best friend's gifts. They seemed endless.
He began to feel like he was missing an amazing sight, so he opened his eyes and looked at Shusei. His partner's face was surprisingly blank as he played, creating beautiful sounds with the movement of his hands. Shusei's brown eyes held nothing as he practiced like a clinical physician, technically flawless. Even with the emptiness in his eyes, the music was heavy with feeling.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and then Shusei closed his, the song beginning to build into a fevered climax. Hotsuma felt his eyes drifting shut against the tidal wave of purity that rang with each keystroke. He felt like he should be in a small seaside village, watching the waves roll slowly over each other in a gentle push against the shore. He could smell salty breezes and hear the steady breathing of Shusei nearby. They were alone, and everything was as it should be.
"Do you ever regret coming here with me?"
"No."
"Aren't you ever lonely?"
"Of course not. I have you."
When the song exploded into a cacophony of sublime, Hotsuma could sense something building inside him as well. It was like something was clawing inside of his stomach, desperate to escape. He didn't know if it was a sob, a laugh, or a choked cry, so he swallowed roughly to keep it down. The music slowed to an incredibly sad melody, thick with emotions that couldn't possibly be vocalized with the same poignancy.
When the last notes faded and the two were left in the thickening silence, Hotsuma blinked his eyes open and stared down at the floor stupidly. It was not one of the comfortable quiet moments they had grown accustomed to that accompanied a lifelong friendship. They were surrounded by gently-building, clouded glass. It had to be shattered by something.
And what better for the task than my cursed voice?
"Did you give that one a title?" It wasn't a thoughtless question; he actually wanted to know the answer.
Shusei's slight smile was undeniably marred with sadness. Perhaps the music had affected him as well. Would make sense, since the haunting melody had been birthed through his hands. "No. I was hoping you would."
"Me?" Hotsuma raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm no good for titles or names. If I had a pet, I would probably call it whatever it was, like Dog or Cat. Something easy."
"So your idea is to call it Song?" Shusei asked the question with a straight face, but Hotsuma suspected he was asking to be a smart ass. He glowered.
"No. I'm just saying I can't think of what it should be called. Don't people who create things get the right to name 'em?" Hotsuma scratched the back of his head, glancing behind him at the closed windows. All of the dense curtains were shut so that the only lighting in the room came from artificial bulbs. How could Shusei stand it? He felt like he couldn't breathe. "I'm going out."
"Isn't it dark already?" Shusei asked with concern, withdrawing his hands from the piano keys. "Isn't it raining?"
"The rain's stopped. And so what if it's dark? Not like there's anything out there that can hurt me."
Shusei was quiet as Hotsuma crossed the length of the room, heading for the door. "You know that's not true," he replied finally.
Probably right. Hotsuma shook his head, feeling irritable for no discernable reason. He grumped. "So what? If something wants to fight, I'll be more than happy. I could use the stress relief."
"Can I? Go with you?"
Hotsuma snorted. "You have to ask?"
"You might have wanted to be alone," Shusei said as he caught up and fell in step beside Hotsuma, the pair descending the staircase and taking an immediate right to enter the foyer. Thankfully, no one else in the house was there to create an unwanted distraction. There was a delicate web encasing them in the awkward moment, and neither one wanted to do anything to disturb it.
To Hotsuma, it felt like they might finally overcome a looming hurdle that had sprung between them at some point. Even if Shusei would no longer punish himself for the scar or for anything else, that didn't mean he was fine. Not at all.
I'll have to try harder, since it's my fault anyway. Like goddamn everything is.
Maybe if he was better with words, he could find just the right thing to say that would magically fix everything. He envied that ability of Yuki's to vocalize such tender emotions in a way that touched everyone inescapably deep. Shouldn't his voice of God hold the same power? Of course not. It was made to destroy, not to heal.
The night sky was a backdrop of onyx with shimmering pinpricks. The moonlight blended with the soft orange of the uniformly-placed lamps to light their path as they made their way through the winding path in front of Takashiro's estate. Hotsuma was leading, taking a detour when they had reached the end of the paved road onto a dirt path that winded into the woods. He had decided impulsively to keep them inside the grounds rather than venture further out. Less chance to run into trouble. They would probably get a bit muddy, but that wouldn't bother either of them. Clothing and shoes could always be cleaned.
He felt long fingers close around his own, warmth being drawn out of his skin into the coldness of Shusei's flesh. He glanced down at their joined hands before tossing a puzzled look in Shusei's direction. "What, are we back in grade school?"
The maddening, blank smile was held tightly over Shusei's lips. He wasn't letting Hotsuma see anything. "I don't want to lose you."
"Stupid. Like there's any way to get lost out here." Hotsuma's fingers returned the grip, and they walked together through the thicket. The overhanging branches hid the light, cloaking them in a heavy darkness. It was probably a good thing to hold hands in the limited illumination.
"Your hand is freezing. Are you sick?" He looked at Shusei's face flickering with shadows as they walked under the gossamer blanket of tree limbs. Despite the pallor cast down by the moonlight, Shusei didn't appear outwardly ill. He was moving easily and didn't seem to be struggling to keep up with Hotsuma's quick pace.
"My hands are always cold," Shusei answered with his mask firmly in place. "Or maybe yours are just warm."
"Hmph. Whaddya expect?"
They reached a familiar clearing. Hotsuma stopped, keeping their hands linked as he leaned back against a tree. He closed his eyes and let the evening calm wash over him. He was aided by the fact that Shusei was close, his stoic presence a solid rock that could always be counted on to keep the ghosts of loneliness at bay. He gripped tighter in spite of himself, sighing.
"Something wrong?"
Opening his eyes, Hotsuma glanced at his partner, feeling a rush of self-resentment. "I've let you down, haven't I?"
A brief hint of surprise passed through Shusei's eyes before they returned to a careful blank. "What do you mean?"
The words spilled out like a single crack had caused the entire dam to completely crumble. "Just everything. After that whole mess, I promised things would be better, didn't I? I said I wouldn't look away but every time I look I feel like some damn idiot. When did this turn into some awkward dance?"
Shusei was quiet for several breathless seconds. "I don't think--"
"Don't even pretend you don't notice. I mean, what the hell? We've known each other since we were kids, right? Why do I always feel like I'm about to say or do something terribly wrong? We should just be able to relax and-- shit. Just forget it, never mind. Okay?"
Hotsuma stopped himself before he went too far and revealed too much. He hadn't meant to start vocalizing his angst, but it was out in the open before he realized his mistake. He could tell Shusei was still absorbing the new information, looking thoughtful with his free hand pressed to his chin. Rather than feeling the cold of their joined hands, it felt like they had caught fire. Hotsuma wanted to pull away-- hell- wanted to run, but at the same time letting go was the worst possible thing he could imagine. That single contact of Shusei and himself was the only light in a land of dark.
Hotsuma felt the seconds tick by, agonizingly slow. He braved a glance at his partner, wondering what was going through his mind. Did he think Hotsuma was foolish for his anxieties? Or was it possible that Shusei was suffering the same endless worries?
He was enveloped in a hug, feeling Shusei's long arm circling his body and fastening tight. The hand that was holding his changed position, fingers lacing and bending their arms between them in the embrace. He remembered the same sensation from the past, a time when he and Shusei had clung to each other as easily as a flower's petals in a windstorm. Returning the hold with his own strength, he allowed his chin to drop onto his partner's shoulder. "What's this for?"
Pulling back so that they were face-to-face, Shusei's eyes narrowed slightly before opening wide, directly meeting Hotsuma's confused gaze. The next words were stated simply with minimal emotion, although the undercurrent was thick with feeling. "Don't worry about it. Just be yourself, Hotsuma. That's all you have to do. I love everything about who you are."
He was surprised but kept it well hidden. It seemed like a deep confession from his guarded partner. It didn't feel authentic for some reason, like he was forcing the words. "Look, Shusei, I'm an idiot, alright? You don't have to--"
But Shusei didn't look like he was lying. He didn't look like he was hiding, either. Keeping his eyes on Hotsuma, the feelings that raced through them were charged. "I always will."
"I know tha--"
Slowly letting a smile come over his face, Shusei's hand tightened on Hotsuma's arm, and he drew him close once more. After the hug was over, he moved back all the way, his hand clamped around Hotsuma's as before. "I'm glad to have you."
"Yeah. Me, too."
"My songs are for you, you know."
Hotsuma smiled. The weight was not completely gone, but it had been lightened considerably. He was able to move, to breathe again. With the words out of the way, he dropped Shusei's hand and made a big show out of wiping it on the side of his pants. "Thanks, you got me all sweaty."
Shusei looked genuinely happy, enfolding Hotsuma's heart with a pleasant warmth. Staring at the other boy, his partner and best friend, he felt sure in that moment that there would never be anyone else so closely connected to his very core. If there is only one person in the world out there who crosses that invisible boundary that separates us from each other, one person we can know is a true soul mate, then I've found mine.
No matter how much space was between them, there was never distance. Hotsuma returned the open smile, casting aside his bristly spines and other protective shields. The subtle moment would be filed away with the rest of the interactions they shared, easily forgettable but another necessary piece of the puzzle they had started putting together after that one day shattered everything.
"You said my hand was cold?" Shusei replied as a smirk grew on his face, the familiar teasing light returning to his eyes. "How could I make you sweaty, then?"
As Hostuma shot back with a barb of his own, they made their way out of the woods, towards the manor. Quietly, the space between them shortened until they were walking, side by side on the path back home.
