Disclaimer: I do not own DN Angel or anything associated with it. Yukiru Sugisaki does.
The Very Thought of You
Chapter 9: These Foolish Things
"Jeez, you couldn't have found a place with a lift could you?" Hikaru complained as she shifted her hands under the weight of the couch that balanced perilously between her and Satoshi.
"I like the stairs," he replied with a wry smile.
She rolled her eyes, which were momentarily lost from view behind the couch, "Whatever. At least you're only on the third floor. Any farther and I would have done my back in."
"I told you, you don't have to help if it's too much for you," Satoshi said for what seemed like the millionth time as they rounded a particularly difficult corner of the stairway. He had told them that he didn't need help moving apartments but pleas like that were lost on his friends.
"Hey, hey! What am I? A girl!?" she huffed in an annoyed manner, her face staring down at him defiantly from the top of the stairs.
"Well, technically…" he began, hesitating as her eyes flashed. He considered for a moment. If she dropped her end of the couch in the position they were in, with Satoshi bearing the brunt of the weight at the lower end, he would probably end up a rather bloodied pancake against the wall behind him. He looked back up at her, "No, no. Of course not."
A beaming smile broke across her face as though rewarding a puppy that had done as it was told and her voice was just as playfully condescending, "That's what I thought. And really, you couldn't have done it all by yourself, could you now?"
"Hn." Satoshi had been raised to cope with everything by himself, to be entirely alone, but to reply truthfully to her question would only start a fight.
"Besides," she continued, her voice solemn now, "You would have done the same for any of us no matter what we said." He could not bring himself to look up at her.
Eventually they managed to heave the couch through the door and into the modest apartment. Standing halfway through the doorway, they lowered the couch to the floor. Hikaru straightened up, snapping her stray bra strap back into place under her white tank top nonchalantly. Pressing her hands to her back as she stretched, she surveyed the room. It wasn't large but comparative to where he'd been living of late, Satoshi reflected, anything would seem bigger. After all it was just going to be him living here. Just…him. And of course, Yuki, but frankly cats don't take up that much space. No, it was someone else who was missing from this picture.
Oh, will you never let me be?
Oh, will you never set me free?
"Even with no lift, I still like this place. It's nice. It has lots of natural light," Hikaru said, gazing out one of the large windows that lined the walls. He was lucky enough to have found a corner apartment again, the situation of which in the building meant that the main living room and kitchen were bathed in light for the most of the day. Looking around, there was not much there excepting a couple of boxes strewn around on the floor. No mind, he would have the place clean and neat to the standards of his youth in no time – only to be decimated again by the hectic lifestyle of a man hopelessly addicted to his job.
"Hey! Move on, will ya?" Ryou called from the doorway where he and Iku stood, holding a small fridge on the brink of the stairs.
"Hold your horses, boy. We're going, we're going," Hikaru replied, as the two picked up the couch again from underneath. She attempted to simultaneously dismiss him with a wave as she spoke only to have the couch thrown off balance. Grabbing it again quickly with a laugh, she set it down in place.
"Nice," Ryou remarked as he and Iku passed by, manoeuvring an object far heavier with ease.
"Oh, shut up," she said, hands on hips. Satoshi suppressed the urge to laugh at the ridiculous image she cut in her baggy cargoes, with her bright pink bra showing through her top in marked contrast to her recently-dyed, purple hair. Hikaru continued to survey them with a piercing eye, "Well, if you boys are so strong and can handle it all by your little selves, then we're going down the street to get beer." She stuck her tongue out wilfully, "C'mon Saaya, honey, let's go." Taking the smaller girl by the hand, she marched out the door, leaving the boys to laugh it off.
Daisuke surveyed the paintings laid out before him on his bedroom floor. University started tomorrow and he wanted to be sure that his folio was in order before he returned to present it. With everything that had been happening he hadn't had a chance to inspect all the pieces together nor make any last minute touch ups to them.
He ran the checklist through his mind. He needed seven paintings for seven different categories. One experimental; that would be the red splattered screaming figure that he painted whilst frustrated which was rather unlike his usual style. Check. One surreal; he had finally transformed the picture of the child in the laundromat from a sketch to a fully coloured painting. Check. One impressionist-style piece; the painting of a busy street in rainy Tokyo was done with large brush strokes, with light and movement being the main features. Check. One realism-style piece; well the picture of Satoshi, albeit with black hair, leaning against the wall in the fire escape smoking with the moonlight cascading over him was probably the most realistic. Check. One pop art inspired piece; this was a little more difficult and not something Daisuke worked with usually but he had attempted it with his painting of the black-clad, nameless and faceless soldiers. It was his usual style of painting, rather realistic, and it showed them in the grey box that was the equipment room but he had put a collage of popular images cut from magazines and the like over the top, questioning the concept of a police force. It would have to do. Check. One emotive piece; the picture of Hikaru before the mirror with all her tattoos and a mournful look on her face was an easy choice. Check. And finally one personal piece; this was a free choice piece which was meant to illustrate something of significance to the artist and was most probably meant to be a self-portrait, but Daisuke decided upon the portrait of Satoshi in the window with Yuki that he had painted in his first couple of days in Tokyo. He couldn't think of something that meant more to him. Check.
The ties that bound us are still around us,
There's no escape that I can see.
His sigh was almost inaudible as he stood back from the paintings. Wiz looked up adoringly from the artworks to his master, who could never resist but to lean over and scratch his large, fluffy white ears affectionately.
"What do you think of them, Wiz?" Daisuke asked playfully, "Any good?"
Wiz cocked his head to one side, seemingly considering. "Kyuu."
The doorbell rang and Daisuke nimbly hopped up and ran down the stairs. He couldn't explain why, he knew it was totally irrational, but every time the phone or doorbell rang some small romantic part of him expected it to be Satoshi. "I've got it, mum!" he called out. Opening the door expectantly he found a young man with spiky blonde hair, a big smile and a silver stud through his lip looking at him.
"Hey, Daisuke-kun," he was greeted enthusiastically, "I heard you were back in town so I thought I'd swing by and find out why you're avoiding me," the young man said, winking playfully. His voice was pleasant and excitable, much like Daisuke's own, and his stunning green eyes had the habit of drawing people in.
"Hey Seiji-kun! I'm sorry; I've been so busy that I've hardly caught up with anyone since I've been back. Come in, it's freezing out here," he said cheerfully, his enthusiasm matching the other's as he ushered the young man in from out of the snow.
"Thanks," the boy flashed him a massive grin, quickly removing his snow jacket and placing it on the hanger in the hallway.
"Do you want anything to drink? Tea, coffee?" Daisuke asked as they entered his room.
"Nah, I'll just stay a moment. I've really got to go home and get cracking on my assignments soon or I'll be in trouble," he smiled impishly at their running personal joke of last minute panic. He was studying the same course as Daisuke and while they had met through a mutual subject, Seiji's interest lay in digital art rather than traditional. It was actually Seijij who had made the design for Daisuke's t-shirt that Satoshi had asked him about on the first day.
"Seiji! You're shocking," Daisuke teased him.
The other boy shrugged, "I know, I know. Don't tell me you've finished all your work?" He was currently surveying the paintings that lay on the floor with interest.
"Yep. All seven paintings finished," Daisuke grinned, largely pleased with the fact that he had actually managed to get all of them done on time. They didn't have this running joke for no good reason. Usually for them, a lack of inspiration meant that work was completed at the very last moment and hated for ever after.
"Daisuke-kun, your work still continues to amaze me. It's always so good!" the boy said enthusiastically.
"T-thanks," Daisuke said, slightly blushing. As much as his work was praised, he never ceased to find it awkward.
"Hey now, who's this hottie?" Daisuke followed his gaze almost expecting him to be pointing at the picture of Hikaru but instead he was studying the portrait of Satoshi lounging in the windowsill with Yuki.
"Oh, he's a friend of mine in Tokyo. The one I went to visit," Daisuke replied as calmly as he could.
"Ah, the unusual best friend that I've heard so much about?" he joked, his eyes glancing up at Daisuke curiously.
"Yeah, that's the one," Daisuke smiled.
"He lives alone with his cat?" the boy asked rather sarcastically and Daisuke found himself feeling slightly annoyed by this tone.
"Yeah, he works for the police force so he's pretty busy and is never really at home much," he said defensively, frowning slightly at the young man.
"Obviously pretty buff too," Seiji continued, oblivious to Daisuke's pervading feeling of discomfort. The redhead made some sort of noise denoting recognition but made no other reply, a slight sense of possessiveness taking over.
Shaking it off, he placed a smile carefully back on his face and asked as casually as possible, "What've you been up to while I've been gone?"
Seiji looked up mischievously, not noticing the subtle change of the subject away from the blue haired boy. "Not much. It's been pretty boring without you." His words were light hearted but Daisuke looked away, seeing in his deep green eyes that there was more to them than that. Truth be told, Seiji was a friend with whom Daisuke had begun a shameless and seemingly harmless game of flirting not long before he'd left for Tokyo. It had been going on for awhile but towards the holidays it had started getting serious. He guessed that Seiji was slightly upset that Daisuke had hardly contacted him since he left and not at all since he'd returned.
"Hey, um," Seiji started unsurely, sensing something was different about the redhead, "I actually came round today to ask if you wanted to see a movie on Friday? And maybe get some dinner or something."
"Like a date?" Daisuke asked uneasily, seeing the agitation in the other boy's movements. There was a pause as Seiji considered his shoes.
"Yeah, like a date." He stood, fidgeting awkwardly with the gloves in his hands, his blonde bangs slightly obscuring his face. Daisuke sympathised with him, it was hard to admit these things, but simultaneously saw him through new eyes, eyes which had been opened by the young man he adored. And suddenly the blonde boy before him seemed just that: a boy and no more. Self-conscious and naïve as Daisuke himself had once been and probably still was to some extent. But that was changing, he was changing. He felt different coming back from Tokyo and everything appeared before him in the new light of maturity that was slowly altering his perception of the world around him. Daisuke sighed. Seiji was a nice guy and they were good friends but he wondered how he had ever entertained the thought that they could complete each other.
"I'm sorry, Seiji-kun, but…I can't," he said consolingly but firmly. He hurt for the other boy and, at the other's look of disappointment, wished momentarily that he could make him happy. But he was realising that you couldn't make everyone happy all the time. He could only offer so much now and he hoped it would be enough to sustain their friendship, "Would you want to see a movie just as friends?"
Seiji, who had been staring at his feet, looked up in mild surprise at the redhead. He stood for a moment considering whether Daisuke was serious, or perhaps mocking him, but he was too aware of the boy's good nature. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said quietly, smiling gently, the warmth of it reaching his eyes.
Daisuke hugged him goodbye at the door, still not quite believing that the past month in Tokyo had already began to change his life in Azumano so significantly. "See you Friday, then," he said cheerfully, trying to ignore the fact that the blonde boy was still incredibly attractive physically if no longer emotionally.
Seiji nodded, waving farewell as he set off down the path into the snow. Daisuke stood in the doorway awhile longer, watching the flakes of white descend from the sky slowly and calmly. Was it snowing in Tokyo?
And still those little things remain,
That bring me happiness or pain.
He wouldn't have a clue. The waking dream of that far off city faded and reality took hold with an iron grip as his life in Azumano resumed once more.
The night of the move to Satoshi's new place found them sitting around the coffee table in the new apartment in whatever kind of chair they could find, with drinks in hand and boxes of takeaway food littering the table. Keiko had joined them after she had finished up at the gallery and they were enjoying a small celebration before returning to the normality of work tomorrow.
Iku raised his glass in a solemn manner. "I propose a toast." The rest looked around at him in mild surprise that he had actually opened his mouth to speak without being prompted. "To a new start." He directed his glass towards Satoshi as the other's followed suit. The bluenette gave a small smile, wondering if Iku knew how much those words actually meant to him.
As if she could read his mind, though Satoshi knew this to be absurd, Hikaru suddenly leaned back against the couch, complaining, "I miss Daisuke-kun and his little fluffy red head."
"I'm not sure he would take well to that description," Satoshi smiled wryly.
"I shall also miss him. He was a nice companion to have at the gallery," Keiko said softly, brushing her black hair carefully behind her ear. Hikaru, sitting next to the quiet girl unconsciously mimicked her action as humans so often do, pushing her hair back to reveal the cigarette tucked behind her ear. Satoshi consciously ran his hand over his shirt, which he knew covered the nicorette patch* on his arm.
"I'm sure he'll come back to visit sometime," Satoshi said rather distractedly, before attempting to steer the conversation towards other recent events that didn't have so much significance or which, at least, were not so painful.
A cigarette that bares a lipstick's traces.
An airline ticket to romantic places.
And still my heart has wings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
It was close to midnight when people began to trickle out the door in that odd chain reaction which occurs once the first person has made the conscious effort to leave. Hikaru was always the last to leave, having something to say that was for Satoshi's ears alone. They had cleaned up what mess they could considering the chaos the day had left and were now sitting at the bench, half drunk cups of coffee before them.
"I don't see why you didn't just come and live with one of us. We would've been happy to have you," she was saying seriously, staring at the white mug.
"Come on, Hika-chan. You know I've always lived by myself. I'm just used to it now," he said apologetically, "It's nothing against you guys."
Or is it that you're waiting for someone else to come live with you, she wondered silently. He cut a lonely figure sitting there in the seemingly large room which was mainly empty and dark but for a lone lamp in the background. Suddenly, she felt as though she did not want to leave him there, and that he did not want to be alone, but knew his damn stubborn pride would never allow her to stay.
"You don't have to be alone, you know," she said softly, getting up to gather her things and depart. He looked away. She sighed and pulling him into a slight hug, kissed his hair fondly. "Dumbest smart person I know. This is for you." When he looked up, she had gone and there was a picture frame sitting in front of him on the bench. In it was a picture of the first night they had gone out for dinner all together and Daisuke had met his friends. His red hair and Satoshi's blue hair stood out from the photo in marked contrast to each other. He'd never really noticed it before.
A tinkling piano in the next apartment.
Those stumbling words,
That told you what my heart meant.
A fairground's painted swings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
He sighed, wondering what Daisuke was doing right now. Glancing out the window, there was nothing but cold darkness encroaching. Looking down at his hands which rested on his lap, he realised he was shivering slightly. Was it the cold or the withdrawals? He couldn't tell.
Had it really been six days since he'd left? Since the light in his life had gone and everything had returned to the dull monotony of before. Was it possible?
It was entirely possible, he knew, but that didn't stop him from feeling as though life could not go on around him as usual while he felt so hollow inside, so disconnected from everything around him.
Yuki, who had scampered away before to his bedroom while so many strangers inhabited her territory, was now walking around between the boxes and random articles of furniture, mewling mournfully as she tried to comprehend why everything was so different. Picking her up, he stroked her fur soothingly while she continued to cry. "I know how you feel, Yuks," he said quietly, switching off the lamp besides them which suddenly caused the city lights that were twinkling and fading in the freezing night air beyond the window to illuminate. It was so beautiful but felt somewhat surreal, "I know how you feel."
Three weeks had never seemed so long to Satoshi before. They should have flown considering how much he had on with work and socially, and also with making or at least attempting to make his new apartment a respectable looking place to live. Then again, when Daisuke had been here, Satoshi had never seen a month go by so quickly. It seemed the young boy was the only one who had an influence over Satoshi's perception of time, and just about everything else. Yet, it had been awhile since he had called the boy he reflected as he searched through his bag for the keys to his apartment. Opening the door, he was greeted by Yuki who proceeded to wrap herself around his legs in the most loving manner, which she only ever used when she wanted something. Usually food.
"Hey Yuks," he smiled down at her, but she looked back reproachfully, meowing at him demandingly. "Yes, yes. I'll feed you," he said, exasperated by her conditional love. He threw his bag down onto a chair before following the cat to her empty bowl. As she fell upon the biscuits, Satoshi looked up to survey the room which still seemed so…empty. It was sufficiently neat now and contained a few more pieces of furniture and some furnishing, such as pictures hanging on the walls, which made it look homey. But still, there was something missing. Or more rightly, someone was missing.
"Welcome back." The red-head whose arms hung around his neck looked up at him, smile positively beaming.
The memory caused him to ache inside. Never had he felt that he meant so much to someone as at that moment. Nor had he ever cared so much for another person as he did for Daisuke at that moment. Why had he been avoiding calling him? Even Satoshi was sometimes unaware of the workings of his own heart. There were all the usual excuses that he used to rationalise it to himself, but he knew that to some extent it was guilt. He could not bear to talk to the bright young boy when he knew that he could not make him as happy as he deserved to be. It was selfish of him to cling to Daisuke, who deserved so much more and had the potential to do so much better than this, or so he told himself.
I should call him. No, he's probably busy. He has work and study and friends. He probably wouldn't want to talk to me anyway. Satoshi stared at his mobile hesitantly, continuing to doubt himself as he ran a hand distractedly through his hair.
// You came,//
"Why won't he call, Wiz?" Daisuke asked. Lying across his bed with his legs halfway up the wall, he contemplated the phone. The little rabbit-like animal sitting next to him looked up at him mournfully with his big eyes. The boy sighed, questioning himself, "Maybe I should call him? Nah, he's probably at work or busy doing paperwork or something. He wouldn't want to talk to me anyway."
// You saw,//
Satoshi picked up the phone, his fingers nimbly typing in the number he knew so well. He wavered a moment before pushing the 'call' button. It was done now, there was nothing he could do.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times-
He hung up quickly, hoping that it wasn't too late and that his number hadn't appeared as a missed call.
"This is useless…" he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands before looking down at Yuki who sat staring at him calmly, content enough now that she had been fed.
// You conquered me.//
Daisuke's finger hovered above the last digit of Satoshi's phone number. He knew it would probably just go through to a message like always but still… He bit his lip, uncertainty written across his face, before quickly pushing the 'call' button.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times-
"Gah!" He slammed the phone back down onto the receiver. "I can't!" I can't call him even though I want to so badly, he thought gloomily.
Wiz cocked his head to the side, watching the redhead intently. "It's hopeless, Wiz." He fell back down onto the bed in a heap. Laying back with his hands behind his head, he contemplated the white ceiling desolately but with a small crack running along it, it only served to remind him of Satoshi's place. He groaned, rolling onto his side. Everything at the moment seemed to remind him of the blue-haired boy in some way.
Letting his legs fall to the side, he used the motion to propel himself up and onto his feet. He wandered out to his small balcony, overlooking the sea and the glorious, setting sun. Strands of hair were swept before his vision by the light breeze that caused him to wrap his arms around his torso. The colours lighting up the sky, the bright reds, oranges and yellows that usually felt so warm seemed cold tonight.
// When you did that to me,//
Satoshi leaned against the window, his head resting on his forearm, as he looked out across the city to the setting sun. Each exhalation of breath fogged up a small patch of the cold glass before receding again to transparency to reveal the world beyond. The buildings of the city seemed harsh and uninviting.
//I knew somehow this had to be.//
"If only I could just see him…"
// The winds of March,//
"…hold him…"
// That made my heart a dancer.//
"…for a moment…"
// A telephone that rings,//
"…it would all be…"
// But who's to answer?//
"…alright."
Oh, how the ghost of you clings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
Daisuke glanced at his watch before looking back up to the lecturer at the front of the room. Thank goodness, he thought with relief, only five more minutes of this class. Not that it was a particularly boring lecture, even if he had given up taking notes about a quarter of an hour ago, but it was more so the fact that Daisuke had been rather unlucky in his seating arrangement and had ended up next to a couple that had been giggling whilst they played footsies for almost the entire hour and a half of the class and Daisuke was nearly at the point of shooting himself, or possibly them and everyone else around them. Daisuke wasn't a particularly intolerant person and while they were a cute couple who seemed very happy, he had, unlike them, come here to learn incredible as that concept was. Glancing across, he wondered if they thought that he couldn't notice the guy's hand ever so slowly creeping up her skirt. Suddenly he felt like turning around and yelling at them, I'm not blind or deaf! Jeez! Not everyone wants to see your public display of affection no matter how cute you may think it is. He groaned inwardly.
"And that concludes our lecture today. See you all next week," the lecturer dismissed them. The sound of chairs and retractable desks being moved back to their original place filled the room along with the buzz of conversation. Daisuke packed up quickly, glad not only to escape the overly affectionate couple but to go to lunch. He was rather hungry but was also looking forward to seeing Saehara whom he was meeting up with. As the students stepped out of the building, the biting wind of winter swept over them and everyone pulled their coats closer and their hats down. Daisuke was glad of his beanie as he headed out into the weather.
"Yo, Daisuke!" a jovial voice called from behind him.
He turned around to be bowled over in a violent manner by a young man with spiky black hair, who then pulled him up off the ground to which he'd knocked him with a strong hand. "Hey, Takeshi-kun," he said, rubbing the back of his head.
"You ready for lunch? I'm starving! I could barely sit through that lecture about the ethics of journalism 'cause I was so hungry," Saehara still talked in the hurried fashion of his youth, which was probably a trait of all journalists yet seemed particular to Saehara.
Daisuke smiled at his old friend, "Sure. Where do you want to go?"
"You'd better pick because this is on you, y'know. This is what you get for not calling me for a whole month!" Saehara swung an arm around Daisuke's shoulders, pulling him into a headlock, "The price for deserting you're oldest and bestest friend in the whole wide world. Especially when he was having trouble with a certain lady."
"Oh?" Daisuke asked curiously.
"I'll tell ya 'bout it at lunch," Saehara dismissed it, but Daisuke knew his friend well enough to realise that it was something he seriously wanted to discuss. He resumed his jovial tone, "Now where are we going?"
First daffodils,
And long excited cables.
And candle lights,
On little corner tables.
And still my heart has wings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
Daisuke had let Saehara talk for the entire time at lunch, simply nodding over his steaming bowl of noodles. Not that he would have had much say in the matter anyway; it was still difficult to get a word in edgeways with the boy unless he really needed advice on something. The redhead had been somewhat distracted from the conversation in any case by the couple who sat at the table next to them in the small, cramped café. They gazed at each other adoringly across the table, hands interlocked the entire time. He seemed to regard her with a look that approached worship as she blushed and talked, looking at the table while she spoke. Saehara had, of course, drawn him back to the conversation violently with a good shake of his shoulder and a loud 'oi!'. He had wanted to know what Daisuke's advice was on Saehara's long-term girlfriend who suddenly wanted them to move in together.
"What's so bad about that? Don't you want to live with her?" Daisuke had asked innocently.
"Dai-chan, Dai-chan. You know so little of these things, don't cha?" Saehara condescended to him, "I like her a lot but I don't want to have to live with her!" He had made it sound like a chore, Daisuke thought.
"Why not?" he had asked. Surely people who loved each other wanted to live together. They had certainly been going out long enough, and Takeshi's roommate wouldn't mind if she lived with them surely. Daisuke could see no practical objection so it must be…
"I dunno. If I live with her then we'll be together all the time. She'll want me to cook for her and make me listen to her awful music, and I'd want to watch sport and she hates it," his voice sounded more and more dejected. "Really, Dai, there'd be no escape and I'd never get any peace."
"Perhaps you should be considering then whether she's even the one for you," Daisuke's advice had been, though he had given it with a tinge of jealously that Takeshi had such an opportunity and didn't want it while to live with Satoshi would only be a dream of his for now.
Currently he was sitting on the train back home, contemplating the white world that flashed past. He knew he shouldn't be jealous of Saehara, it was absurd. But he just couldn't fathom how someone could go out with another person for so long and not want to live with them. What was the point of going out with them if you didn't want to be with them? More than anything, he just wanted to be with Satoshi right now but instead was sitting on a rattling old train that was pretty much empty but for a few other passengers, and with a bag full of work to be done. He leaned his head against the window desolately. Stupid reality.
A few seats in front of him, a girl stared expectantly out the window, fiddling anxiously with her long blonde hair. They pulled up at the next station and the doors opened to allow a young man of a similar age to the girl through. He smiled at her, causing her face to light up with the joy that could only be young love. Seating himself next to her, he placed an arm around her slender shoulders, drawing her closer to him so he could place a tender kiss on her hair.
Daisuke frowned. It felt as though life was subtly mocking him and it was seriously starting to get annoying.
The park at evening,
When the bell has sounded.
The Isle de France,
With all the gulls around it.
The beauty that is spring,
These foolish things remind me of you.
Finally home, Daisuke called out a greeting to his parents while taking off his boots at the front door. He could hear some vague reply that sounded like his father. Scaling the stairs to his room, he threw his bag onto his bed, causing loose notes and books to spray across it. Looking at the mess, he sighed. He was going to have to do a fair bit of study tonight when he got back from work. Someone knocked on his door.
"Come in," he said, knowing it must be his father. Emiko never knocked, a rather annoying habit of hers. He began to pull off his scarf and gloves which, while necessary outside, suddenly became a hindrance inside. Kosuke's black hair appeared around the door before he did.
"How was university?" he asked calmly, smiling at his son and the complete mess that was his room in a usual week. Daisuke always cleaned it on the weekend in an attempt to be organised, but after the hectic pace of another week of work and study it usually ended up in a fairly bad state with clothes and sketches strewn everywhere.
"It was good thanks. I had lunch with Takeshi," he said, returning his father's smile. But for the red hair and the years that separated their ages, they were almost identical in looks.
"Ah." Kosuke said mischievously. Nothing much else was needed to describe a meeting with Saehara.
Daisuke sat down on the bed and gestured at the chair for his father, sensing he wanted to stay and talk. "What have you been doing this afternoon?"
"Reading. A small luxury while your mother and Towa-chan are out," he joked.
Daisuke laughed, knowing that to be all too true, "Where have they gone?"
He considered for a moment, "Grocery shopping, I think." He wasn't in a habit of keeping track of the movement of the females in the house. A comfortable sort of silence fell between them as Kosuke gazed at his son who was attempting to sort through the notes scattered across his bed and arrange them into piles that made sense.
"Dai-kun," Kosuke begun carefully. Oh great, Daisuke thought as he immediately realised where his father was going, this is totally not the conversation I need right now. "I never got to seriously ask you how your conversation with Hiwatari-kun went? You know your mother and all," he smiled serenely, but Daisuke sensed there was something more to his question, which was odd enough in the first place. It had been almost five weeks since he'd left the elder boy. Why was his father bringing it up now? Perhaps he had noticed the change in Daisuke or that he was now calling Satoshi more often than before. It was possible but still…
The sigh of midnight trains,
At empty stations.
Silk stockings thrown aside,
Dance invitations.
Oh, how the ghost of you clings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
"Oh, yeah. Huh, that was awhile ago now," he said uncertainly, trying to remain detached. As much as he loved his father, he didn't exactly want him to know about this relationship just yet, "Yeah, we sorted some stuff out. Like you said, it was probably better to talk to him about things so I did and it turns out that some pretty serious stuff had been going on. It was hard to talk to him at first; we kind of got into a fight. But I think he'll be ok…" Daisuke trailed off.
Kosuke nodded solemnly, either not minding or simply ignoring the fact that most of what Daisuke was saying was completely insubstantial and evasive.
"But yeah, turns out that we hadn't been the greatest friends to each other but I think that's all been…um," he cleared his throat, hoping fervently he wasn't blushing, "…solved."
"Oh?" Kosuke coaxed him.
"Yeah." Daisuke looked away, not really wanting to continue along this path. It was too complex to comprehend what had happened let alone to try and explain it to someone else.
"So, you're not worried about him anymore? You think he'll be alright?" Kosuke asked with not some little concern. The young genius had rather endeared himself to Daisuke's father over the years, if not his mother.
"Satoshi's pretty strong and he gets through things. He's got good friends there too who care about him," Daisuke trailed off, staring out the window contemplatively.
"Well, I'm glad to hear he's alright," Kosuke sensed that this was as much as he was going to know for now and made his tactical retreat, "I was rather worried for awhile. He's a good person, Hiwatari-kun, but very stubborn when it comes to other people caring about him."
Daisuke nodded distractedly, muttering under his breath, "I know what you mean," before snapping back to reality as he caught sight of the time. "Ah, I'm running late! I have to get ready for work!"
"I'll let you get on with your day then. Good luck with all that work too," he teased, indicating the stacks of paper on the bed with a wave of his hand.
"Gee, thanks dad," Daisuke glanced up, giving his father a reassuring smile before rummaging around for his work clothes the moment the door closed. He knew he would be late if didn't hurry but he couldn't help but to sit down for a moment on his bed, staring at the clothes in his hands. It felt as though for five weeks he had been dragging a weight around inside his chest where his heart used to be. It was anchored to Satoshi, and there was no escape. He missed the boy desperately and though he had spoken to him numerous times since he'd been back, the phone was still an impersonal object that did not feel real and how could it when Satoshi spoke to him only as a friend? It seemed as though nothing had really changed but Satoshi was always a master of deception as to his true state of mind. This had been most evident while Daisuke was in Tokyo. He never knew what the older boy was really thinking, nor what he really felt.
Daisuke wondered if Satoshi also felt like a gaping wound had been carved in his chest, leaving a hollow space for another's heart that was not truly there. But he was so much stronger, so much more mature in many ways than Daisuke. He was probably fine.
Three months. It was a long time, during which much could happen. But so far, it had been three months of loneliness without the redhead, of little stress as things went smoothly at work, of fleeting moments of joy with friends and a cat, of quiet organisation and comfort as his apartment became somewhat like a home. But mainly of ignoring the growing tension between Daisuke and himself as the distance between them physically was felt so acutely once more.
Three months of living a half life.
He was sitting with Hikaru in his apartment as they unwound for the week with a drink and a chat as had become usual with them. Winter was fading now but a fine layer of snow still covered the windowsills as they looked out onto the early night that engulfed the city.
"So," Hikaru said seriously, turning on him with determination. Conversations never ended well when she did that, "Spill. What happened between you and Daisuke-kun? I think it's about time you told me. I was going to wait it out and let you tell me all of your own accord but it seems like that's not going to happen."
Satoshi raised a questioning blue eyebrow, a small smile playing across his lips as he leaned back in his chair. "Trust me to never have to tell you anything and you still figure it out."
"You wouldn't want a stupid second-in-command, would you?" she grinned impishly. "Besides," she drawled, "It was obvious. You're very good at hiding all your emotions all the damn time except when it comes to that little redhead. And even then you try. But still, I could tell even before I saw you look at him. Just the way you talk about him is enough to know."
Satoshi turned the bottle in his hand around and around, reading the words of the label but taking none of them in. He could not bring himself to believe her. The perseverance with which he had suppressed his feelings and any visible sign of affection beyond friendship for so many years was too much to be swept aside by someone as simply 'obvious'. He would not believe he had suffered so much to reveal everything now. No, it must be that she simply knew him too well.
"It wasn't obvious," he said calmly, "You just know me well enough to pick up on these things." Hikaru sensed the slight bitterness lingering in his statement.
"I've only known you a year or so," she stated truthfully.
"Time is irrelevant in these sorts of things; you know this. It is how intimately you know someone and how much you are willing to share with them, not how long you've known them. I've known people for seven years who wouldn't know the first thing about me," he argued, suddenly pausing to consider, "I had only known Daisuke a week when I realised that he was different to everyone else."
Hikaru gazed at him, unconsciously running her fingers across the tattoo above her heart. Perhaps she had not realised the depth of their friendship, nor of Satoshi's feelings for the other boy. She knew the basics; they were friends in middleschool, with Daisuke befriending the cold and distant loner whom no one else could, and that sometime during highschool Satoshi must have recognised deeper feelings. But watching the contemplative young man in front of her whose gaze was looking far beyond the drink before him, she wondered if she was wrong.
"Well, I guessed there was something on his side too, even if you couldn't see it so I decided to do a little matchmaking," she said, resuming her light playful tone in the manner that she always did to avoid anything too serious. She could no longer cope with the serious, it was too painful. "So, did my plan work? Did anything happen between you two?"
Satoshi shrugged, taking another swig from his drink before placing the empty bottle on the table between them. Leaning back against the couch, he considered. She was his confidante and most probably deserved to know but he'd rather do many other unpleasant things than talk about it. And so she was greeted with nothing but silence.
Gardenia perfume,
Lingering on a pillow.
Wild strawberries,
Only seven francs a kilo.
And still my heart has wings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
"Because my other matchmaking plan isn't working out so well," she joked lightly, "Saaya just won't seem to notice Ryou."
"Oh, give it up!" Satoshi said harshly, shooting her a scathing look. She looked taken aback for a moment, not expecting the sudden attack. "You know Saaya isn't interested so why don't you just leave it alone?"
"But he's been pining for her for ages! Ever since he met her," Hikaru argued, almost pleading with him, "I think she could learn to love him, he's a nice guy."
"That's not the point though! Yes, he's a nice guy but she doesn't like him in that way and you know it. Just because you like someone doesn't mean they'll return your feelings and it'll work out to be happily ever after for everyone," he said angrily, knowing as he did that he was projecting his own emotions onto this and shouldn't be. His voice softened slightly, "Sometimes life is a little more complicated than that…"
Silence hung heavily between them as Hikaru stared at him, her eyes glinting with fury.
Satoshi hung his head slightly, knowing he was in the wrong. "I'm sorry," he said gently, "But I just don't think you should be encouraging him with false hope and also it's not appropriate in our unit. You of all people should understand why." He looked up at her apologetically, but she continued to stare numbly at the glass in front of her, not blinking. He sighed, reaching out a comforting hand across the table which was roughly brushed away.
She did not look at him but her words were biting, "Just because you're miserable doesn't mean everyone else has to be."
"Hika-chan, that's not fair," he said quietly, "You know I've always objected to this but you insist upon it. It's just going to end up with Ryou being heart-broken and Saaya feeling bad."
"What would you even know about this sort of thing anyway?" she said dismally, drawing her knees up to her chest. "You can't even tell Daisuke that you like him."
The smile of Garbo,
And the scent of roses.
The waiters whistling,
As the last bar closes.
That song that Crosby sings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
He sighed, pressing his fingers together as he considered the girl opposite him. Getting up slowly, he came to sit beside her. She regarded him warily as he leaned his head against her shoulder, arms folded across his chest protectively. "Will you forgive me if I tell you a secret?" he asked.
"Depends how good your secret is." She curled up against him, putting an arm around her friend's neck, aware through the unspoken bonds of their friendship that this was his apology.
Satoshi closed his eyes, knowing that he would regret this to some extent but eventually he decided that this was what friends did. They entrusted each other with the things closest to their heart in the knowledge that they would not be ridiculed but accepted. It had taken him so long to learn this over the years, but to have a friend like Hikaru had made it worth learning. "I did tell him," he said quietly.
"I already know that, baka," she smiled smugly, giving him a playful yet affectionate push as he hid beneath his blue bangs, "I want to know how though."
Satoshi almost fell through the doorway as he entered his apartment for the first time in forty-eight hours. Work hadn't been taking much of a toll lately until they had gotten a call that prevented them from returning home for two days straight. And he would likely be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to get back to the office to figure out what the hell was going on with this case. But for now, food for Yuki and sleep.
Having completed the first of these tasks, he collapsed on his bed. He was still fully clothed in the crumpled uniform he had been wearing for the past two days, was incredibly hungry and felt pretty terrible all over but couldn't care less. He had been running on coffee and adrenaline alone for the entire time and now it felt as if his limbs were made of lead. Even if his brain was able to muster the coherence to tell them to move, it is likely that they would be physically unable to respond. He closed his eyes, feeling the rhythm of his chest rising and falling begin to slow until he was barely breathing at all. How he wished the arms of a small redhead were around him.
The scent of smouldering leaves,
The wail of steamers.
Two lovers on the street,
Who walk like dreamers.
Oh, how the ghost of you clings,
These foolish things remind me of you.
His head ached and his eyes felt they were going to fall out of their sockets they were so sore. As he laid there, his thoughts wandered around and around his exhausted and delirious mind but always seemed to return to the young man he missed so much. Oh, how the ghost of you clings…
Suddenly the shrill ringtone of his mobile pierced the room. Satoshi lay with his eyes closed just a little longer, not wanting to be called back to work so soon and wondering if it was even possible that he could be. Fingers scrambled across the bed for the phone, and looking at the screen he found it was Daisuke who was calling. He groaned inwardly. He wished he were here now but talking to him was probably the last thing Satoshi wanted to do. Yet something made him push the button to answer the call.
"Hello," he slurred, trying to get his mouth to work properly but it seemed to refuse all orders of that kind.
"H-hey," a concerned voice stuttered on the other end. This was not going to be a good conversation, Satoshi could tell as he berated himself for not letting it ring through to a message. "Are you alright? You don't sound so good."
"I'm fine. How are you?" he worked up some level of casual carelessness to reply, but then wondered why he had bothered when really he felt like he wanted to die. But to some extent, talking to Daisuke was making him feel slightly better already.
"I'm alright though I'm kind of worried about you now. Are you sure everything's ok? You sound like you've been hit by a truck or something."
Satoshi smiled wryly. Daisuke always had a way of putting things that was so…eloquent. "I'm fine. How's uni?"
There was no reply. Satoshi stared at the ceiling, waiting silently.
"Why do you always lie to me?" his voice was quiet. There was no reproach, no anger, no accusation. Simply a statement of fact and resigned disappointment. If Krad had taught Satoshi anything, it was discipline and self-control to an extent that damaged the boy. He had been wearing a mask ever since to protect himself, and though the years had chipped away at it, it still remained. Daisuke had thought that perhaps the change in their relationship would also change that fact but it hadn't. Satoshi still wore the same mask he always had even while he and Daisuke were…he wanted to say 'going out' but something about those words seemed so official comparative to what was between them.
Satoshi felt that all his effort was absorbed simply by breathing as the weight on his chest grew heavier. "I don't mean to, Daisuke, really. It's just a habit now. Besides, it doesn't matter. No one really wants to hear the truth anyway." Even as the words left his mouth he regretted them, knowing that it was a subtle accusation against Daisuke of not caring which he did not deserve. If anything, he cared too much.
"That's not true, Satoshi!" the younger boy protested earnestly.
"It is," he said cynically, wondering why he was carrying on this discussion which only hurt them both. But it was what he believed, "People pretend to care but they don't."
"That might have been true once but it's not anymore! You do have friends that care about you. I care about you," Daisuke pleaded but he sounded more and more resigned as he went on. It was an argument he never won against the elder boy. Satoshi was about to reply but was floored by Daisuke's next remark. His voice was so innocent, yet broken and reconciled to defeat, "I wish I was holding you right now. Then I could show you I care. You only seem to believe me when I'm there in person. All I can give you now is words…and I suppose they're pretty hollow though, aren't they?"
The empty sigh of distance between them was emphasised by the buzzing silence of the phone. Satoshi hated himself for rejecting the young boy, not because he did not love him, but because he was too afraid. He was repulsed by his own weakness. It made him sick to his stomach to think he could not even accept Daisuke's love as genuine. In his lifetime he would probably never meet another person so untouched by selfish motives, cruel intentions or bitter insensitivity. But it was not too late, it was never too late. He could fight back; he could learn to trust, slowly but surely guided by the redhead he loved so dearly. Scrunching his eyes and taking a deep breath, he made the plunge. "Not if you mean them."
"What's the point when you never mean anything you say?" his voice was still resigned.
"I meant it when I said I loved you." Satoshi pressed his free hand to his forehead, willing himself to focus as his exhausted mind strayed from the conversation at hand.
"What about when you said you were fine just then? Did you mean that?" Daisuke asked, ever pushing Satoshi to admit that he was hiding.
"Alright, fine then. What do you want me to say, Daisuke?" he snapped, rubbing his sore eyes in frustration. "That yes, I just lied to you and no I'm not ok. In fact, I feel like death. What the heck is the point of that? It's just going to make you upset and I won't feel any better."
"I-I'm sorry. I just-"
"What?" he asked wearily, not having the energy to remain angry.
"I just worry."
"About what?"
"That I make your life too complicated, I suppose," the boy admitted resignedly.
He could hear Satoshi sigh down the other end of the telephone. "That's true; you have made my life more complicated." Daisuke went to apologise but Satoshi cut him off abruptly, his voice serious, "But you've also made it so much better in many ways. Even before now. In ways you probably don't even comprehend. If you'd never reached out to me when we were young, when I was trying to arrest you, I would not be the person I am now. So much of who I am now actually is thanks to you whether you know it or not. And I know that it's kind of complicated at the moment but I wouldn't have it any other way. I was pretty much about to give up when you came to stay. I decided that I had no luck, that for some reason I was cursed and never meant to be happy. Everything that ever meant anything to me was always been taken away, and I didn't understand why. And then there was you. It killed me to leave Azumano and come and work here for so many reasons but mainly because I was leaving you. Because I didn't want to leave you," the words seemed to be tumbling out of his mouth with such an uncharacteristic lack of restraint, "It was even harder to have you come and stay when I knew you would never feel the same way and then…those couple of days…I realised it was possible to be happy. You showed me it was possible," he sounded as if he was struggling to speak, choked by emotion. Satoshi tried to regain composure but his voice was still strained and somewhat harsh, "So would you stop worrying for fuck's sake? You make me happier than you'll ever know."
Daisuke was stunned into silence. Satoshi had never been so open with him and now that he was Daisuke was suddenly struck with the thought that he had no idea what to say to console him. What do you say to someone who had suffered so much and was continuing to suffer at your hands?
"Satoshi…" he said quietly, unable to say more. But enough was conveyed in the emotion of that one word.
The older boy breathed deeply, wiping at his eyes and wondering why the hell he had just said all that. His brain must really not be functioning and he cursed himself for letting it get away like that. He began his excuses, "Sorry, I haven't slept in awhile and my brain is probably just hysteric with the lack of-"
"Don't." Daisuke cut him off firmly.
"What?" Satoshi was taken aback, mouth slightly agape as the redhead continued to talk.
"Don't apologise for saying what's true and important to you. Don't you see, Satoshi? This is what I've always wanted you to say," the young boy emphasised, finally feeling that he was getting somewhere.
"It is?" he sounded confused and fragile. Daisuke wanted to hold him so much but pressed on, so close to breaking down the barriers of all those years.
"Yes!" he stressed the word, "All I want is for you to tell me the truth, to tell me what's going on. I'm your friend and…and…" he struggled for a moment to find a suitable term, "And I love you, so I want to know how you're feeling and you must know that it's impossible to tell with you! It's like you wear a mask all the time. What I'm trying to say is that, you don't have to anymore."
"But…" Satoshi felt the last reserves of energy and adrenalin he had draining away from him. No, a small alluring voice in the back of his mind whispered. As he attempted to preserve what was left of the defences around his heart, his voice slowly turned cold and calculated, "I would have thought you would understand all this without me having to say it."
Daisuke paused for a moment, considering the attack, and Satoshi waited patiently for him to return it and once more distract his mind from the aching emptiness inside with the fresh wound - an old trick that was beginning to wear thin. But something in the younger boy gave in, surrendering to hopelessness and taking refuge in dreams. "I wish I could see you." I would hold you and never let you go.
"Well, that's impossible and you know it," Satoshi quipped harshly.
"I know," Daisuke sighed, knowing he had lost again even though he had been so close. But there was always one last card to play, "I love you."
Satoshi bit his lip, fighting back tears. Coward, coward, coward. "I love you too, Daisuke."
Silence. There was always silence between them. And it was always his fault. Satoshi clenched his teeth, wanting to say something more but held back by pride, by guilt, anger and tears. God, he hated himself!
"It's always a half life with you, isn't it?" his innocent voice, usually so beautiful, was flat and dead, "I should have known."
There was a mechanical click, and suddenly he was left alone, lying in his room in the semi dark. The phone fell carelessly from his hand onto the bed as he stayed there, unmoving. The clock on the bedside table ticked too loudly and the last lingering light of twilight was fading outside the windows. Stained blue eyes wandered around the ceiling, unfocused.
Why do I always push him away?
He closed his eyes. A white, faceless woman reached out towards him through the darkness, splattered with bright red blood. Flecks of it in her hair, dripping from her hands, smeared across his face as his mother held him. Why? Blonde hair obscured his view of the person he was on top of. He could feel the hatred seething beneath his skin, but it was not his skin. Daisuke's innocent ruby eyes widened to show a maniacal angel slowly strangling him. Why? His father's glasses flashed white in the dim light, showing the reflection of a fourteen year old Satoshi dragging himself across the floor, blood staining his shirt, pale hand desperately reaching out towards the older man. Why? The white dust settled slowly around them and his hands trembled as pushed back black hair to reveal Tai's lifeless eyes. The sticky, red substance that pooled on the floor around them was freshly drying on his hands. He heard Hikaru's piercing scream as she sank to the floor in grief, hands tearing at her hair. Why? The screeching of sirens reached him first. He took little notice initially until, stopped dead in his tracks, he realised that the yelling, hysterical people were outside his home. The roaring flames still jumped and licked the sky, spreading a red glow over the street under the ashen cloud of smoke, consuming everything. Why?
His eyes.
WHY WAS IT ALWAYS RED?
He banged his fists hard against the white wall before him, not recoiling from the pain that suddenly shot through them but instead, leaning into the wall, he let his hands slide down, carrying his weight to the floor where he collapsed onto his knees.
He burst into tears, unable to contain the years of caged emotion any longer. He let go of the burning anger and the shattering grief that had consumed him for so long. He could hardly breathe; his throat and chest felt so constricted. There was no way that he, even with all his self-discipline, could control this catharsis. He cried hysterically until he could no longer feel, wishing that Daisuke was here with his comforting arms and words but life was cruel enough to take that from him too. He would be too ashamed to let anyone but the innocent boy who held his heart see these tears of pain and anguish. Only he could understand and even then, not as much as Satoshi wished he did. But the thing that hurt the most was that he – Satoshi Hiwatari himself – was the only barrier that was preventing Daisuke from knowing all, from Daisuke having his whole heart. How selfish could you be to only give half a heart? How ashamed? How afraid?
That which belongs to the Hikaris, will always end up in the hands of the Niwas. The words floated back to him from a distant memory. Had he said that once? If only then he had realised how true it was. His heart was in Daisuke's hands and it always had been.
How strange,
How sweet,
To find you still.
These things are dear to me,
They seem to bring you near to me.
Later that night, he lay in bed with a strange feeling of lightness and stillness upon him. He had no more tears left and all that remained was the silent wish that a tuft of red hair was obscuring his view of the bright moon rather than Yuki's black fur.
A/N:
Trust that as soon as holidays start I get sick, then when I'm better my computer breaks, then when the computer is better I get sick again. Conclusion: I have no luck whatsoever. So it's taken awhile but I hope you all enjoy this massive chapter (ten thousand words, please appreciate that I had to proof read it about ten times). In the meantime, I went back and fixed "6: A Funny Valentine but Not For Me" so that it's now slightly less awful then before.
Thank you for your continued reviews! They are highly appreciated, as is constructive criticism, as always. Please don't flame me if this chapter is complicated because emotions are complex! Think back to Satoshi's past and perhaps his anger and confusion will not seem so unreasonable.
To the reviewer named "Me": it's hard to reply to annoymous reviews but I hope you're still reading and enjoying the story. Thanks so much for your lovely comment!
COMING SOON (hopefully): the final chapter.
* In Australia, this is a patch worn on the skin to help you quit smoking
* The // between lines of the song in one part means it's an alternating split screen
* Baka generally means 'idiot'
* The quote "That which belongs to the Hikaris, will always end up in the hands of the Niwas" is actually a roughly translated one from the DN Angel manga
These Foolish Things – Ella Fitzgerald