love is like a pack

of cigarettes

yeah, it kills me

but fuck that

i need you right now

bittersweet, oh love

every love is bittersweet

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(xi ft. lee hi - code kunst)

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[LIFELINES]

chapter twenty-five: above the waves

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The perfect brother is here.

He's surveying me unblinkingly, concentrated and knowing him he's taking it all in to every little detail of my current state. I stagger back, losing my footing and almost stumbling onto the floor. If I had moved a fraction to the right, I'd be falling sideways into the pool.

I guffaw at the thought. If she had fallen into the water, and not off the balcony...she-she'd be alive, wouldn't she?

And now it's me. I'm the one left alone. Why couldn't it have been me to go? But why is she still here? Why is she sadly smiling at me? Why is she taunting me?

"Yamato?"

It's not Kaori. It's my brother again - which means that I'm alive and that I haven't drowned. Why won't they let me slip away? Why can't it all stop? Why won't it all stop? Voices keep clamouring in my ears, so repetitive that it makes my ears bleed. Why-

"Why are you laughing?"

Takeru? He's here again. Has he always been here? When did he get here? Why is he-oh, there's a pool. How fancy. Where are we-

"For Christ's sake! Stop it." His tone is unimpressed. "What's so darn funny?

"Everything," I reply.

Because it is; because everything's a joke. I'm the joke. I'm tired of it. If Kaori's here, then it's not real. Everything isn't real. So what's the point of it all? I'm not needed here. What I do need is another darn hit-

Something is roughly tugging at my collar, almost choking me. "Fuck, you reek. I can't stand this. Just how much have you had to drink, Yamato?"

For some reason the question sounds funny.

I'm guffawing now. Why do they care? Why do people care about me when nobody cared about Kaori? Why didn't anyone care that she died? Why-I heave, cackling into hysterics. Laughter ruptures through my mouth and I'm gasping to keep my head above the surface. The invisible blanket of pain numbs me, sending me into a frenzy of fits.

"GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER."

My collar is released from his grasp. Takeru's leering at me, chest rising and falling, the tip of his nose is pink. He gets like this from his terrible hay-fever, when he's about to cry, or when he's angry. From how his eyebrows are furrowed, as he stares at me, I'm know he's mad at me.

It's weird when he loses his cool. Mainly it's because he's the type that rarely does. I'm the one that usually packs most of the emotions between us, especially whenever it relates to being angry.

Why is he angry? Takeru has everything. He's always had the better side of the coin. He's better at socialising, on both our parents' good books, insanely smart, much more athletic, has a wife, house, kids-

He's only saying this to me because he has his shit together.

What right does he have to condemn and lecture me when he doesn't get me? He knows nothing. For years he only knows parts of me I permit him to. He doesn't know how dirty, how filthy I really am. How sometimes I stay in the shower for hours to clean my skin from her old blood that has soaked past my surface and into my muscles and tissues.

No. He wasn't there; I was. I was the one kneeling in that pool of blood - or when mother and father fought. He wasn't there, he was also too busy...when I was dealing with father slowly deteriorate. He wasn't there. He's here whenever it is convenient. His number one has always been Hikari. He never needed me once she became his whole world. I was there, I was more of a pest, a past to feel sorry about. I'm a hassle to him. Somebody who causes him indirect grief because of how useless I truly am.

Takeru hisses at me, "Why are you even here?"

"You wanted me here," I say.

It's a lie. Maybe a month ago he did, but not now. Not when I'm like this. I've broken down, I'm off the rails. I know this. He wants me to keep being the brother I am, the brother I've always acted to be in front of him - even when everything has been breaking around me, I had to pretend I was fine in front of him. I can't do it anymore.

I can't.

It's all too much now. It's all out of my grasp. I'm barely grasping, clinging onto reality. I'm in hopeless facade with no room to escape. I'm exposed, raw and ugly. He's finally seeing me for who I really am.

"-make appearances for Koushiro but not like this. Not when you're pissed off your face, and not when your nephew is here too! You're becoming like dad…"

"Don't talk about dad when you don't know anything about him!" He can say the fuck he wants about me, but I wouldn't have it if he badmouths our father.

How dare he bring him up? I stutter out how it's mother's fault that she was the one who led him to drink. That is was all our darn perfect mother's fault. If it hadn't started with her acting up, and wanting the divorce...none of this would have happened.

Takeru doesn't seem to care, to listen. After all, he's always been the mother's boy, never failing to defend our mother despite the fact that he'd be treading to the wrong side.

Whatever he says next, I block out. I need another...I need to leave soon. I can't be here.

"-they were happier when they divorced. Why do you have to bring this up now? You had years to bring this up-"

"Maybe I want to talk about it now?" I goad, sneering at him.

I'm ready for him to have a go at me. I'm ready to attack back as well. As if sensing my fighting stance, Takeru responds with a frown instead.

He takes a step back and sighs, voice despondent, "Darn it, Yamato. Just sober up, will you?"

I turn my head away from him when he leaves. As I angle myself at a different direction, a glint of auburn grazes my blurry line of vision.

She's lingering near the pool. How long has she been there? Although I've been avoiding her, suddenly she seems like the person I'd rather engage with.

Not Takeru. Sora...pretty Sora. Why...why did you make everything feel better? Why did I ruin it with you? Why-Kaori, I ruined it for you the most. I did you wrong. I treated you badly. I can't-but why did you show me the regret in your eyes when you fell? Why were you there in the first place, readying yourself to fly against the air.

Why is she vibrant, why is it that when she laughs, she cries, she gets irritated...she makes me forget myself, my pain, my….she' black. Her hair is black. No...it's red now. A deep scarlet, so lively, so animated. The colour that stains the darkness, that seeps into me and leaves a mark. A mark that entices; that mesmerises me. Her breath against my skin. Steady breathing, sedating breathing. Calmness.

Kaori reminded me of the bitterness, Sora reminds me of a promise for something better.

Sora. Yes. She reminds me, she represents that when you fall, when you stumble, you've got to keep trying. She goes off, does her own thing, and doesn't care what people think about her. Even giving me the time of day when I had been a jackass to her when we first met. Why is she so...different?

"Miss Takenouchi?" Her name escapes me.

I shouldn't intervene, I shouldn't speak with her, but my mind is foggy. I don't care anymore. I want to see her. I've missed her. Yes, I've fucked up but now that she's here I know now how much I wanted to see her again, to laugh with her, to tease her to...ah, she shouldn't talk to me. She needs to leave me.

Is she real?

She's standing right here. Right in front of me. I'm shuddering. Joining me on the balcony, she's no longer something of my imagination. Her eyes are cool, watchful and scrutinising. Her lips her full. Her breathing is shallow. Her skin looks smooth. I want to reach out, I want to hold her. I can't. No. I-

"Yamato?" She whispers back. "It's been a while."

Sora is walking closer towards me. She's actually speaking to me? Why...why is she? I wouldn't. I bloody took advantage of her. I fucked her both figuratively and literally. I fucked her over and she wants to talk to me? Impossible.

I can't. I can't...if she gets too close, she'll make me want to try again. To start again. But I can't. I've already hurt her. I can't do it again. I don't deserve another chance, so I need to stop it before-

My throat feels more scratchy. My voice is stuck, I can't speak. She's too beautiful to look at. She's stunning.

Not knowing what else to do, I lean back against the table. She doesn't take into account that I haven't responded, though she still proceeds to sit on a chair by the table. She should walk away. That's what she should do. She doesn't...she doesn't budge the slightest.

I don't know what to say to her. I don't know where to begin. I don't know how to apologise. It feels too cheap to say sorry, to make a lame excuse. I had run away. And, after all this time, why would she accept what I have to say. She hadn't waited either. She had left and I don't blame her for it.

The swimming pool ripples. The reflection of yellow, glowing fairy lights dances on its watery surface. I try to string a line of words together, what to do, what to say. Nothing is clear. However, I do the one thing that I only feel capable of.

"Sora."

It even hurts to say her name. Even then, her name sounds foreign to my own voice. Just uttering it out loud prickles and makes me feel ashamed. What am I meant to do in this situation?

For some reason, she gives a tiny wry smile - like she's happy that I've said something to her. She absorbs the silence. I can feel my brain palpitating as she crosses her long legs, back pressing into the chair. She's waiting for me to say something again, but I can't bring myself to.

I almost jump her voice slices into the air, chastising me, "Takeru's pissed off with you. What did you do?"

Maybe she's talking about this because it's easier. Maybe she's talking about it because she knows she's pulling me by the strings. She's doing a good job because the mentioning of Takeru's name makes my jaw feel tighter.

"How much did you hear?" I lash out.

She shrugs, and somehow, that irks me even more. "Enough to figure out the whole picture."

"You could have walked away."

"Like you did?" she quips back.

My bones feel tight, muscles straining immediately at her comment. She's not addressing Takeru anymore. This is about us; about me and her. She's actually decided to touch this route, this route that I had been trying to black out, to avoid for so long. A memory that I don't quite remember. A memory that burns my lungs, that makes me shudder, that - no, I can't. I grip my hands into balls, jerking my head forward, feigning confidence, pushing my insecurities into anger...because anger feels better.

"It's fine. I know you were just using me too."

"I wasn't," I seethe out.

How can she think this? Why...I, maybe initially I thought there had been nothing between us. However, when we had kept repeating the same mistake of finding ourselves in each other's arms, I knew how right it was - how right it felt. She's agreeing that she used me. Maybe to her I was disposable as she had flitted away to her old lover, but not to me. I would have never used her that way, not when I found myself always wanting to be with her, not when she was in my circle of friends, not when she was somebody special to me. But yes, I fucked up. I did something so fucking stupid, that I screwed up every was possible.

"Right." Sora's not convinced at all. She glares, speaking up, "You were. That's all you wanted from me. You get bored, you sleep around. I was just another person on your fucking list because you don't know what the hell you want. If you had the gall, all you had to do was speak to me. But you didn't...did you?"

I croak out, "You don't know anything about me."

She doesn't. She doesn't know how much hell I've been ever since I've slept with her. She doesn't know-

"Think about it, Yamato. Did you ever bother to allow me to?" The rest of her words drone out. I'm slipping in and out of our conversation. I don't know if I can keep up with it all, with this confrontation, with her fury.

"-we be together if you never could trust me?"

Fuck this. Why is she talking about trust? She's the one who I saw dipping her tongue into another man's mouth? Why am I even trying this? Why do I even care? Why do I...why is she the only person that makes everything seem hard? Why does she challenge me, but most importantly, why do I let her? Why can't I just ignore her just like what I've been doing to everybody else?

I snap, "Oh, you're one to talk. Care to explain that other man?" I'm bringing him up again because I can't let it go. She's also not fucking Saint Mary.

She screams back, "Why do I have to explain this to you?"

Sora rants on about me having supposedly changed over the time we haven't seen each other. Sure. Like I'm a fucking new man after what's happened. Does she expect me to improve when all I've done is go downhill? It would need more than a miracle for me to be who she wants me to be. I can't be anybody's expectation. I've failed being that 'perfect somebody' a long time ago. My dear mother can reaffirm that.

Let her be angry at me. This is what I need. It's better than her falling apart on me. It's better than seeing her crying. It's better than remembering her hair drenched in tears over her face, rolling down her cheeks and neck. The dampness of her tears and sweat that hadn't made me stop. How I kept going, how I ignored her whimpers. Fucking hell. I want this all to stop.

"Shut up," I snarl. What madness this is? The rage, the bitterness is invigorating. It's tingling through my veins, another wave of warmth spreads across my skin and my heart is scalding. I redirect the guilt, changing it into fury. It's something to evade thinking - a way to forget the guilt, and how ashamed I truly am. She doesn't understand me because she'll never see from my point of view. She's perfect. I tell her this.

I continue my spiel, "...you've got parents who are both alive and who love you. You have the perfect family. You're independent, successful on your own. You don't have people at your back, attacking you or wanting you dead, or stalking you home."

"I'm not perfect," she mutters under her breathe...but I don't care.

"-you've got it easy. You're a princess. You've got everything you want, so stop being a bitch."

She doesn't take my shit anymore, swearing at me, "Fuck you."

Her reply is too easy that I don't stop myself.

I tilt my head at her, daring, "Haven't you already?"

Her palm connects against the flesh on my cheek. It's throbbing. It kills, actually. And, above all, it wakes me up slightly. My ears are pounding, the alcohol reminds me of how slow my reflexes are - how I'm not sober. How this whole scenario makes me want to laugh, but I keep it in. I retain the laughter that wants to shake out of me because I know it's not going to help my situation. She'd probably slap me again.

I touch the side of my face where she has just slapped me. "Maybe I deserved that…"

Yeah right. I know I did. It feels good that she's finally taking out her anger at me. She should hit me, she should bash me up until I stop breathing - then we'd be even. I'm about to egg her on until her voice trembles, "You did."

Before I can get her to explain further, to trigger her to inflict more pain on me, she suddenly swipes the back of her hand across her eyes. Something in me breaks.

"Sora…"

Her eyes are wide as she stares at me, shocked at how the snide tone in my voice has disappeared. How, by simply saying her name, makes her change how she looks at me. I don't like how she can read me this easily. I don't like how she can see that I still care.

Before I can run my mouth, or say something to make her leave to upset her, the words that I've repeated in my mind for all these months finally come out.

"I'm sorry."

She bites her bottom lip, tearing her eyes away from me. My shoulders slope downwards. I don't know why I did that, why I said that. Did I expect her to forgive me immediately and have her jump into my arms? Who am I kidding? Her hesitation is enough for me to surmise her answer. She doesn't want me.

All of a sudden, there's a little toddler behind Sora. I open my mouth, about to instruct her to go back to Takeru. He tugs at Sora's pants, blue eyes peering up at me in childish curiosity.

"Why are you sorry, Uncle Yamato?"

Of all the times to intrude, my nephew does have a knack for it. In fact, I welcome it. The more I'm with Sora, the more I'm likely to screw up. Hiroto being here might be a blessing in disguise.

"About many things," I chuckle.

I squat to Hiroto's level, brushing his stray hairs of blond away from his face right before I kiss him on his tiny forehead. It's been a long time since I've seen my nephew. I swear he's grown a head taller, and maybe it's his cute innocence that makes the weight on my shoulders feel lighter, even if Sora is here.

"If your Aunt Sora forgives me, maybe I'll feel better."

Sora folds her arms, irritated. "Don't pull that card out, Ishida."

It was worth the try.

I dryly say, "What choice do I have? Everybody hates me right now."

I've lost it. I don't even know why I'm making a joke out of this. I don't know what else to do. I've hit the guilt train, diffused my anger at her, and now I'm fucking fooling around like the conversation we had earlier didn't matter.

"But I love you Uncle Yamato." Hiroto reminds me that he's here and it's pleasant to know that somebody does.

"...and you're all I need, Hiroto-kun."

Sora's not having any of it. She deadpans that I should stop thinking about everybody hating me, and then I'll stop being an asshole. Well, she stops at the last word because of my nephew, resorting to calling me 'a bad person'.

I repeat the last three words she says to describe me. Her face goes pink. Funny that we have to muffle out profanities all thanks to my nephew. At least this is toning all the tension down. I was ready to melt minutes ago.

Our talk comes to a halt when Hikari's voice blares over the loud music, "HIROTO-KUN! WHERE ARE YOU? WE'RE GOING TO BLOW THE CAKE."

From the mention of the four-letter word, Hiroto tackles out of my grasp. I make a reach for him just as he's about to skid. Everything's in slow motion, and because of how much I've had to drink, it takes awhile for me to respond. At least Sora's with it. Instantly, she lurches forward, causing Hiroto to rebound off her body. However the simple movement makes her lose her balance and, at Hiroto's expense, she shrieks when her body submerges into the cold water.

Her jumpsuit is sticking against her skin, as she paddles her legs to keep herself from going under. Eyes wide from the cold, lips protruding out in a pout, she slowly makes her way to the side of the pool.

I'm laughing because it doesn't seem real. She puffs her cheeks when she catches me witnessing her swimming to keep her head over the surface, "Aren't you at least going to help me up?"

I could be a gentleman, but this is all too funny. Besides, I won't be much help. I don't know how to swim. I tell her this, and even say that she's more athletic than I am. She sends me a withering glare. And, as predicted, she propels her body up herself.

As soon as she's out of the pool, her teeth start chattering. The jumpsuit reminds me of how good she looks. To stop myself from staring, I take off my jacket and place it around her shoulders. She gazes up at me, eyebrow raised at the gesture but I just shrug.

She rolls her eyes, holding onto the jacket as she storms past me leaving a trail of watery splotches behind her. I don't know where she's going, but I don't want to leave her side because as funny as it is, she's quite shaken by it. I mean, anybody would be if they accidentally take a dip into a freezing pool on a fine winter's night.

"Sora! You're wet!" That's Mimi. Sora had gone inside the venue to find her. Mimi eyes that the jacket Sora's wearing belongs to me. In fact, she seems pissed off at me. Of course, nothing can be kept between Taichi and Mimi. I shouldn't be surprised if Taichi told her what happened. She has the right to treat me with suspicion, so I don't take it personally. She sends me a bemused look as Sora explains to her, "I went swimming."

"She fell in," I correct.

"Was it you who pushed her into the pool?" Miyako accuses me, not liking my comment.

"No. I accidentally fell in."

Sora asks Mimi something about borrowing her hotel keycard. 1807. Figures that Taichi and Mimi would stay the night at this five-star hotel, considering Taichi frequently visits hotels both nationally and internationally. Before I can hear the rest of the conversation, Sora says that she'll be back.

As she retreats, I can feel the girls eyes on me. I take a step away before they can interrogate me. I need to leave now too. I've been here too long. My breathing suddenly is haggard, and the waves of amusement I had a moment ago dissipates. My fingers claw into my pockets.

No…

They're with her!

"Yamato?!" Miyako calls out as I sprint for the elevators.

She's already gone.

My pulse escalates. I need to find her now. I need to get to her. She has them. She can't see, no...I need to take some now. I can't, I...fuck. I press the button again, and luckily there's another elevator. Somehow, I remember the floor that Sora's gone to. 1807...yes, 18. It's 18. The 18th floor.

As soon as I arrive on the 18th floor, I'm gasping. I spot her auburn hair. It's a good thing she's right next to the elevators. I manage to hold the door before she closes.

She looks back, gaping when she sees that I've followed her. "Why are you here?"

"My jacket."

Please don't ask me anything more, Sora. Just give it to me already!

"Oh," she says. She observes me, frowning and confused as to why I've chased after her to the room. "Sure. I'll quickly get changed and give your jacket back then."

"Please…"

Oh God. Can't she give it to me already. I reach out, about to rip it from her shoulders. The bathroom door shuts and I almost cry out. The quivering escalates. I need it. I need another hit. Act cool. No. Can't. I'm itching for it. I need it. Something's crawling up my body, my legs, my arms. My scalp is burning with all these vibrations, these little insects sinking their teeth into my flesh. I need them off. I need them gone.

I panic, "Hurry up!"

She's taking forever. What is wrong with her? Hurry the fuck up!

"Do you need to use the toilet?"

Is she fucking toying with me right now? I fucking need the jacket. I need it right now! She could have stripped and handed me the jacket straight away. Why the hell did she have to have a shower and make me wait? What...get off. GET OFF! My hands digs into my hair, trying to scratch them out.

"Give it to me! It's itching!"

"What's itching? Yamato, what's wrong?"

I'm on my knees now, gasping. "They're going to eat me!" Hurry up! I slam my fists on the door, banging relentlessly. She needs to open the door right now. She needs to let me in. I need a hit to make it all go away. I need it now!

There's a lot of faint shuffling behind the door. Noises. Her footsteps are further than they had been. She's not even near me anymore. I slam on the door, "SORA!"

And then I hear the toilet flush.

I kick at the door. I can't stand waiting anymore. Another kick and it's rammed open. The first thing I see is Sora's astonished face as she looks at me. My jacket is on the ground, and as I crawl to take the packets from the pockets...I realise the pockets are inside-out. The flushing. The toilet bowl. That's why she's sitting here.

"What the fuck did you do?" I bark.

She fights back, "What the fuck are you doing? What the hell, Yamato? If this is the reason, Christ...no wonder you are fucked up!"

I rip my fingers away from my hair, kneeling over the toilet bowl. My hands try to scoop them out. They're there. They have to be because I need to take some right now. She smacks my arms away, eyes widening at me like I'm the one with problem. I'm not the one with problem! She's the one that took my belongings away from me. They are mine.

"I need them!" I scream, "Or else they'll eat me. These things, they're on my skin…"

"What things?" Sora whispers. I don't know why she's whispering when everything is so loud.

I keep scratching. Blood seeps into my nail beds. My top is almost all ripped up as I gain access to my skin, clawing more at myself to get these parasites out of my body. It aches, it all aches. The pain is unbearable.

Sobbing, I cry out, "I'm sorry. It's my...my fault you left. My fault he's there."

"It's fine."

My lungs collapse as I break down, sobbing. The shuddering escalates and tears slither down my face. Oh God. I need it all to stop. Red. Scarlet. Like her blood between my fingers...

"Have a drag."

"Thanks," I smile. Inhaling. Exhaling.

She leans onto my shoulder. We're cuddling on the sofa. We've been sharing the same joint the whole night. Back and forth. Forth and back. Her eyelids are heavy. I kiss her on the lips. She giggles. We're on clouds. Elated. Ecstatic. Ecstasy. A false sense of happiness that would never be real. A dream. All a dream.

"You can't reach the surface. You can't get over the waves."

"Is that what it means?" I glance at her latest piece. All types of blues, swirls, composing a picture, a painting that I will never quite understand. Even for me, Kaori's always been too artistic, too abstract for me to interpret.

"I think there's always a way back. There's always a way to get back above the surface. It's no fun when it ends. Endings are never fun."

"And if it's a happy ending?"

"Since when are endings only happy?" she questions.

I don't know the answer to that. Not everybody lives happily ever after. She kisses me on the cheek. "That's what I like about you, Yamato. You see the best in everything despite things being so bleak."

"I try to."

"You do," she states, reaching for my hands. She traces the blisters and callouses on my fingers. Countless hours of guitar playing had been the culprit to my ruined hands. "Anyway, the painting is not about the waves or getting above the surface."

"Then what is it?"

"It's about you." She breathes against my neck. "It's your eyes, of how each shade, each flicker, each expression in them...how all your blues are beautiful. How each pigment represents everything about you."

"Why am I blue?"

"Because you're not red."

"Then what are you?"

"Transparent." Kaori says. "I'd rather be the wind than any colour."

"Then who is red?"

"Maybe you can tell me one day."

Red…

Red.

Red.

Fire. Fiery eyes. Fierce personality. Scarlet. Auburn hair. Bleeding. She's bleeding in my arms. No rise or fall of her chest. Her breathing is no longer tickling my neck. It's still. It's non-existent.

"It's my fault she died."

Hands swoop around me as I fall, as I collapse. I weep, I hold her close. My knees are numb. All I know is that I've got to hold on. She's breathing. Sora. She's alive. She keeps patting me on the back, consoling me for something I don't understand...I don't comprehend.

Just let me selfish. Just this once.

I continue to grasp onto her, clinging onto her for my own dear life. She's the only one that's keeping me above the surface. Above the waves. I don't ever want to let her go. I refuse to.

Because she's the only lifeline I have left.

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(a/n) Surprised? I am. xD I was meant to be listening to my lecture, but found myself typing away like crazy on another screen.

I finally got to use the 'lifeline' line that made it the title of this story. Haha.

On top of it all, I found a song that says 'bittersweet, oh love'. I just feel accomplished to use both the lifeline and the song lyric in this uh...draining chapter. -_-"

Anyway, it's kind of a repeat of old content here, but new content will be coming shortly in the next chp or two.

Thanks for reading! Will reply to reviews later tonight or probably tomorrow. :)