While You Were Sleeping.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Shigeno Shuichi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Mogi Natsuki on smoking, Takumi and love.
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Takumi's sleeping and there really isn't much do except watch him sleep. Of course, I could lounge sexily on the bed, smoking. I saw a scene like that in a movie once and it had just seemed so cool and so sexy and so sophisticated. Although, I wonder if it's possible to 'lounge sexily' in real- life. I'd probably just look really stupid or worse, burn the sheets. And anyway, I don't smoke. Filthy habit, really. There's nothing worse than kissing a guy who reeks of cigarette smoke and tastes of nicotine. Takumi always smells so nice and tastes so wonderful. Papa used to smoke a lot, though. But best not to think of that; I don't want to wallow in self-disgust.
He's taking up almost all of the bed, but I don't mind. He looks really cute, sleeping with his mouth slightly open, arms flung out, and the sheets twisted round his waist. Moments like this, it's so easy to pretend that this will go on forever. That he's mine.
Truth is, he's destined for great things and I'm not the right person for him. I'm just me and he deserves someone better. He's already drifting very far away from me, into his world of cars and racing and Project D. When he speaks, which is hardly ever, he speaks of races and racing schools and aging geniuses and Keisuke-san. And Ryousuke-san and Ryousuke-san and Ryousuke-san.
He's changed a lot. There's something different about the way he carries himself, now. I think in a couple of years later, he'll have grown so much that when he walks into a room people will sit up and take notice. I'm so happy for him. And so miserable. I never was and never will be the one to spur him to greater heights. That honour is not mine. I smile and tell him that it's wonderful that he's doing so well. I always knew he'd do great things. He shrugs and says he just doesn't want to let the team and Ryousuke-san down. Ryousuke-san. I hold his hand; I'm suddenly scared he'll slip away if I don't. He smiles down at me. His eyes tell me that he's missed me. Mine tell him that I love him.
He looks really sweet, sleeping like that. I don't think I can bear to let him go. I want to be selfish and keep him with me forever. Because he makes me feel beautiful. Because he kisses me like he means it. Because when he makes love to me, I don't feel like a whore.
Sometimes, I worry that my heart will actually burst with love for him.
Maybe, it'll get better with time. I'll be so busy with everything when I return to Tokyo that I probably won't have time to think of him. I just have to stop checking Takumi's progress in the Project D website and stop listening to street racing enthusiasts talking about D's downhill ace, the Phantom of Akina. Simple really; just have to stop obsessing about him. Right.
I'm losing him and I can't do a damned thing about it.
He looks so beautiful that I want to cry. I kiss him instead. He wakes up almost immediately. I can feel him smile as he pulls me closer and rolls over so that I'm lying on my back. His eyes tell me that I'm beautiful. Mine tell him that I'll always love him.
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'You know, Takumi-kun,' I say, later, on the way home.
He takes his eyes off the road for a second to look at me. 'Hmmm….?'
'You make love like you drive.'
He shifts a little to look at me better. 'Like I drive?' he says, sounding completely bemused. 'Er…I'm fast?'
I burst out laughing. 'No! Idiot! I meant that you're really very good at both.'
'Oh,' he mumbles, looking sheepish and adorable.
'"Oh" sounds 'bout right,' I say, grinning.
'An alternate career option, you think?' he asks with a would-be innocent look.
'Idiot,' I declare, laughing.
His answering smile makes my heart turn over. I'm going to miss him so much, I think. I watch him drive, trying to brand everything about him into my memory.
It feels a lot like good-bye. I wonder if he'll forget me after it's all over. I'd like to think, we've had some good times, in spite of …everything. I'd like to think he'll remember me. Please don't forget me, Takumi-kun. I don't think I'll be able to bear it if you do.
I'm home, all too soon. I want to say so many things to him, but I can't remember any of them right now. 'Please, let me know when you come to Tokyo,' I say instead. 'I'd like very much to watch you race.'
He smiles slightly. 'I'll remember.'
Hopeless, sentimental fool that I am, tears spring to my eyes. I'm reading too much into what he says, but I don't care. I kiss him fiercely. I don't want to say good-bye. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Eventually, I pull back. He looks more serious than usual, and a little sad. I think he understands; he's not as dense as people seem to think he is.
'Good-bye, Takumi-kun.'
He nods slowly, never taking that intense gaze off me for a second. I can bear it no longer and clamber out the car, my legs a little unsteady.
The tears fall only after he's left.
End.