Authors Notes: Okay, heres the thing. This was supposed to be a present for Dana-chan's birthday on August 14th, but I finished it on June 22nd, so I decided to give it to her early as a belated 100-fic present and give her the leagueshippy that I was supposed to give her for her 100-fic present to her for her birthday.
breathes
The inspiration for this fic can be credited to both Not The Same by Bodyjar, and a conversation I had with my friend Sarah at her boyfriends house, about first loves and her ex who I hated.
Title comes courtesy of the song of the same name by Machine Gun Fellatio.
Oh yeah ... this egoshippy (Kasumi x Shigeru) and indigoshippy (Kasumi x Hiroshi). Doesn't make sense? Read on.
Disclaimer: Pfft, because people read these. I do not own these characters, or settings or anything else. Blah blah blah.
Part 2: Silentwords
Hiroshi didn't like what he'd become.
On its own, that wasn't particularly significant. A lot of people didn't like what they'd become. But Hiroshi had taken it that one step further.
He loathed himself.
Once upon a time, he'd been sweet as cotton candy and about as threatening. He had great friends, and a promising career, and the kind of youthful, boyish good looks that would have enabled him to play a soap-opera teenager forever if he'd ever been into acting.
Now he was more ageing rock star than polished soap star. He was hardened, jaded, and too full of regrets to have a babyface anymore.
Almost funny how he could pinpoint the exact moment his life had done a neat, gut-wrenching 180. One simple sentence, nine little words.
Hiroshi, your mother and I are getting a divorce.
He still remembered the sickening understanding, and the subsequent way he'd been violently ill soon after. Who broke that kind of news over dinner?
It, Hiroshi remembered darkly, had all gone downhill from there. His parents had become so caught up in playing my lawyers better than yours and arguing over who got to keep the microwave that they stopped paying much attention to Hiroshi. Hiroshi, who had been like an only child his whole life, given that his only sibling, Kensuke, was eleven years older than him, hadn't taken to that at all. As sad and as lame as it was, that's what had started it all. A childish desire to get some attention.
He'd stayed out late. They hadn't noticed. He stayed out later. Nothing. It kept going, he kept pushing the line to see how far he could go. He'd go missing for days. He'd come home toasted as all hell. He'd bring girls home, he'd borrow the car and return it with the bumper missing, and they were still too caught up in their petty bickering over the lounge suite to notice.
He'd moved out of his mother's house as soon as he turned eighteen, and now he lived in a hole-in-the-wall Viridian apartment with an accounting student named Taura. Taura was the classic first-year uni student, and spent more time at clubs than at school, but even she thought Hiroshi's lifestyle was excessive.
It had to say something.
He knew that, at nineteen, his wannabe rock-star lifestyle was getting old. He knew it. Taura knew it. His next-door neighbours knew it. He just didn't know how to get out of it. After all, for the past three years, he'd had only one positive thing in his life.
And he'd been stupid enough to let her get away.
Kasumi Yawa had been a gutsy, in-your-face pre-pubescent brat when he'd first met her. He'd been too young to really be into girls yet, and even if he had been, he probably wouldn't have noticed her.
Years passed.
Kasumi Yawa at sixteen was a far cry from the Kasumi Yawa he'd first met in an elevator at his first big comp. She was stunning, smart, talented and utterly, openly smitten with him.
The way he'd treated Kasumi was 99 of the reason why he loathed himself so deeply. Naivety was part-and-parcel with being sixteen, unless you were subjected to the emotional trauma of spontaneous divorce like Hiroshi. Kasumi had been full of wide-eyed trust for him, and he'd abused that.
No wonder Satoshi hated him.
That was one of the worst parts about the whole Kasumi saga, though certainly not the worst - that dubious honour belonged to being responsible for shattering Kasumi's heart. But losing Satoshi's friendship came a close second. Satoshi was accepting and overwhelmingly nice, but Hiroshi had found out the hard way that he could be downright vicious when his friends were being crossed.
"Maybe you think that because we were friends, I can overlook this," Satoshi had said coldly. "But that's where you're wrong. Because you're obviously not the person I thought you were. I would never be friends with anyone who could treat someone as wonderful as Kasumi as you have."
The words had been like knives ... but they hadn't been anywhere near as painful as his last words with Kasumi. She'd showed up at his door unexpectedly, nervously toying with the ring on her index finger.
"We can't see each other any more," she'd said. No 'hello', no, 'how are you?'. It took him precious minutes to register what she'd said.
"What?"
She'd taken a deep breath.
"I know you're not into labelling what we have, but whatever it is, it's over."
For a brief moment, he'd let his shock, his displeasure, his hurt at this news show in his eyes. Kasumi noticed - it was evident in the way she'd lowered her eyes. He'd quickly changed his demeanour to one of impassive cool.
"Whatever." He'd paused. "Is that all? Because I have things to do."
She'd stared helplessly at him for a few seconds, as if hoping he'd magically change into the kind of guy she deserved. Then she spun around and walked away.
He hadn't spoken to her since.
He'd stayed in Masara for a month or two, feeling about as welcome as the Ebola virus. Then, without warning he'd upped and left for Viridian. He'd gotten a job, an apartment, even a roommate. A new life, a new beginning. That had been the entire motivation behind his moving. Take two on life. Action. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget Kasumi.
Taura, who considered herself the authority on relationships (she'd certainly had plenty), had an explanation as to why.
"You still love her," Taura had said bluntly one night. "And until you deal with that, of course you wont be able to forget her."
So he'd sent her an SMS, a stupid, lame SMS asking her how she was. Thank God he'd been sober - otherwise he probably would have tried to fit his life story into 120 characters.
She didn't write back. And that alone told him everything he needed to know. He read the papers. He knew that Kasumi was dating Shigeru, knew that they were pretty much joined at the hip. When he thought about it, sending Kasumi an SMS was sad at best, embarrassing at worst.
After all, what kind of girl would want him when they could have Shigeru Ookido?
Takeshi was amongst the top five on Hiroshi's list of people he least expected to see that day, and in the top three on Hiroshi's list of people he least wanted to see ever again.
Takeshi had come down on him hard after the whole Kasumi saga - even harder than Satoshi. Possibly because they'd never really been friends, so there was no skerricks of post-Hiroshi-abuse guilt, no matter how faint. Or maybe it was because, after being Kasumi's surrogate brother for so many years, he was insanely protective. Whatever the reason, Takeshi hated Hiroshi so much that the word 'hate' was barely adequate.
So when Hiroshi saw him walking through the door during his shift at Propaganda Records, his first instinct was to run out the back door and not come back. Had he not been the only person working - his co-worker, Kari, was on her break - he would have done it.
Hiroshi watched as Takeshi browsed through the R&B section. He was dressed casually, but Hiroshi knew that his pants were probably equivalent to a weeks rent. Takeshi could afford it - he was the most popular breeder around.
Hiroshi's only consolation was that at least he had a semi-cool job - working in a funky, independent record store was somehow socially superior to serving up Big Macs and fries. But Hiroshi doubted that Takeshi, who had actually made Pokemon Insiders list of the 50 Most Influential People Under 25, would see the distinction.
Head down, Hiroshi counselled himself. Keep busy, don't draw attention to yourself, pray that he's looking and not buying.
Long, silent minutes passed. Hiroshi ventured to lift his head. He nearly had a heart attack. Takeshi was closing in, CD in hand. There was no escape. Hiroshi silently cursed Kari for taking a break. Takeshi glanced at Hiroshi, then did a double-take. His eyes widened with recognition, which he quickly masked.
"Takeshi," Hiroshi said evenly, applauding himself for his outward cool.
Takeshi nodded curtly and slid the CD across the counter. Silently, Hiroshi rang up the purchase, accepted Takeshi's cash (exact change, of course) and handed the small plastic bag to Takeshi. He took it, turned, walked away. Hiroshi waited for him to step outside - he could breathe freely then.
About halfway across the store, Takeshi turned around abruptly, and stalked back to the counter.
"What the hell did you think you were going to accomplish by sending Kasumi that SMS?" he demanded sharply.
Hiroshi's eyes widened with surprise.
"Excuse me?"
Takeshi eyed him derisively.
"You know, that SMS you sent her? Maybe you don't remember, you were probably toasted as all –"
"I remember," Hiroshi interrupted, voice laden with annoyance. "What I don't get is why you should care. What, am I not allowed to ask her how she is?"
"No," Takeshi responded flatly. "You gave up that right when you treated her like she existed for your own personal amusement."
The words rang irritatingly true. Hiroshi settled for staring insolently at Takeshi, hoping to piss him off. It'd be nice to see cool, collected Takeshi lose it in the middle of a record store. Takeshi, however, merely stabbed a finger at Hiroshi.
"You stay the hell away from her," he instructed acidly. "The last thing she needs is you back in her life."
The way he'd said 'you', like Hiroshi was more parasite than human, stuck with him long after Takeshi left the store.
As much as Hiroshi disliked Takeshi, he had to admit that his little self-righteous spiel on how Hiroshi was the last thing Kasumi needed in her life had hit something that had been itching to be hit. Takeshi was absolutely, irritatingly right - Hiroshi knew that now. And knowing that, Hiroshi felt he was able to finally move on. He felt lighter than he had in years, but it wasn't a giddy, helium-balloon buoyancy, but rather a dried-up, dandelion-spore weariness.
The way Takeshi had said 'you' still rang in his ears.
"What's wrong?" asked short, cutesy Taura as she flicked between MTV and Cartoon Network.
"Nothing," Hiroshi mumbled, snatching the remote from Taura. Watching some blond pretty-boy dancing around singing 'I'm moving on! I'm feeling strong!' was not what he needed right now.
"Liar, liar pants on fire," Taura chanted.
Hiroshi mumbled something indiscernible under his breath.
"Is this about Kasumi?" Taura asked knowingly.
Hiroshi glowered at her.
"This is not about Kasumi. Out of all of the things that might possibly be bothering me - not that anything is - Kasumi would be the very last!"
Smooth. Real smooth.
"Oh, come on, Hiroshi," Taura said, rolling her large eyes at him. "Why don't you just admit you still have a thing for the girl?"
"My feelings are of little consequence," he said stiffly.
Taura snorted softly.
"It's true!" he insisted, feeling a need to make Taura understand. "Look, maybe I do miss her, but that's not important. I treated her like she was completely dispensable. She's happy now, okay? Telling her how I feel would only mess her up. She deserves better than that."
Hiroshi shifted uncomfortably when he realised Taura was staring at him like shed just seen him for the first time.
"What?"
"Unbelievable," Taura said quietly. "You're willing to live with this, just to keep her happy. Do you have any idea how uncharacteristically mature that is?"
Hiroshi flushed.
"God, you must love her so much."
"I really don't want to talk about it, Taur," Hiroshi said with a sigh. "I'm ready to move on, okay? Lets just forget it."
Taura fell silent, but kept throwing him round-eyed looks of wonder. Hiroshi groaned inwardly. The doorbell rang and Hiroshi stood up, grateful for the distraction from Taura's awe and MTVs collection of bad pop.
He pulled the door open, noted that the hinges needed oiling, then nearly slammed the door shut out of shock.
"Kasumi?"