to keep me from
heartbreaks, headaches
the doctor says I'm diagnosed with
shit days, mistakes
but I'll be fine

but I'll be fine

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(painkiller - reul)

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[LIFELINES]

chapter thirty-one: a crazy bunch

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No, you need to do this.

It's a mantra that plays continuously in my mind. For the past week, the past month...it's something that's kept me up in bed all night. I've left it to the last minute because no matter how many times I've reflected on it, I haven't found it in me to take that step and get it over and done with.

I'm going home today, and I still haven't done it.

My knees feel weak when I hear the sound of the guitar emitting from the music room.

Anybody can recognise Takashi's playing from a mile away. It's always distinct, subtle, technical, and impressive to the ears. It makes my heart race in my chest; like the first time when I had heard him play. His guitar made me realise how much I loved music back then, and hearing it now makes me realise how I still love it. And, most of all, how I had missed hearing his guitar.

His guitar fingering is impeccable. We've fucked everything up, but somehow his playing is spectacular. I sneak into the room, taking a seat from the far end of it, keeping my distance. I don't think he's noticed me, and I can't interrupt him playing - not when he's fully going hard at it.

The music picks up. The speed of his transitions, his face is serene, calm, and his eyes are closed as he plays with fragility and absolute precision.

It's 6 in the morning. Breakfast isn't even out, yet he's wandered into the music room. Takashi has always been a morning person - the first one up whenever we'd go on those KOD tours. That's why I knew that this was the only way I could target him. Before the morning rush, before chickening out, before leaving rehab…

And then the music stops.

Takashi's cold eyes are on me. He's finally noticed that I'm here. His focus falls back onto the guitar, and he keeps going. I take it as a good sign. The period ever since the incident, Yutaka has been encouraging me to talk to him - saying that he's improving, that he's getting better. And maybe he is? At least he hasn't told me to leave...right? He does a few improvs, and inserts a random KOD song here and there.

Half an hour has passed, and we still aren't speaking to each other. I don't mind it. Even if I don't see him for a while, at least we're not fighting. I can't stand fighting with him again.

Another person walks into the room, then another. Then a third person enters, I watch Takashi store the guitar away. He slips off his chair and makes a head for the door. The thing is, I'm next to it. While he had been playing at the front of the room the whole time, I had lingered on the opposite side.

Takashi doesn't give me a second glance as he strides past me. My words that I had wanted to say, they're stuck in my throat. His back greets me as I stare after him and it's then that I realise I can't hold it in anymore.

I yell out, "Takashi!"

He hesitates before turning around. His eyes aren't filled with the intial rage from when he had lashed out at me. He's standing there, waiting for me. And it eats me up to think, that maybe he had been waiting all along.

"I...I'm sorry."

Takashi gives me a pained smile, with a brief nod before turning back around and walking away.

He's still there. Yutaka is right. He's getting better. He's had it rougher than I, but there is some resemblance of the man, the friend, the bandmate, the brother...I used to have. I know I can't give up on him. Although I don't think I'd want to come back to the rehab, I know that I'll have to arrange time to go and see him. I can't leave him. He needs support; and now that I'm leaving, now that my mind is mildly clearer...it's my turn to help him.

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"Is this all you have?" Koushiro asks me as he snatches the cardboard box away from my arms.

"Come on, I can carry it. It's not like I've had arm surgery."

He shakes me off when I try to take it back from him. "Fine, fine! I get it!" I throw my hands in the air, showing that I take it back. It's funny when Koushiro is persistent because his personality is usually passive. He's the type that will only put up a sound argument when it is evidence based, always being factual and particular - almost neurotic, if you ask me. But hey, that's Koushiro. He means well, he's truthful and loyal. He's the only person that can be blunt and honest, and you know he's not doing it to hurt your feelings...he's just doing it because, well, it's him.

Him being here just makes me smile. Koushiro's a good kid, even if he isn't an actual kid. Maybe Taichi and I have teased him too much in the past. That's probably why I can't help but be fond of him.

Taichi couldn't make it today (some business conference in Yokohama), Satou and Seiji had meetings all day, my brother and I aren't still talking, my bandmates are all busy and...although my mother and I are kinda good now, I don't want her going into my apartment. Even before rehab, I'd protest against her going to mine. It's just weird, you know?

Anyway, according to Koushiro, it worked out perfectly. I think he's a bit guilty for not visiting me often at rehab - and I get it. He's involved in a dozen projects, is constantly travelling (he might even be worse than Tai sometimes), and...I don't know, he's good at quietly reading situations. He knows that a lot of people have been visiting me, he knows that he doesn't want to bombard me...and because of this, he has been keeping tabs on me through Taichi, messaging me and talking to me on the phone every now and again. Now that some of his projects have finished, he announced that he'd visit me.

That day, ironically, ended up being today - the day that I'd be officially discharged from rehab.

"See ya, Yamato-kun!" Maya-san salutes me as I walk past her. She's probably my fave, even if she's the security chick. "You were pretty troublesome to begin with, but you grew on me boy!"

"Shut up," I laugh out.

In fact, a few other nurses and staff members wave at me. Some of my basketball crew exchange goodbyes too.

It's almost the equivalent to KOD's old fans cheering for us on stage, only these people had supported me in a different way. Instead of seeing a musician, they had witnessed me during my dark moments, they had been there for me as a 'person' and not as a celebrity, and they had helped me improve. I wasn't close to all the staff members, but they had been there to hold out a hand even when I didn't ask for it. I really owe them for it.

"Only you could do that," Koushiro comments as we exit the facility.

I look at him. "Do what?"

"Become famous here."

I chuckle. "No, they're just a bunch of great people."

As soon as we exit the building, I sigh when I feel the breeze against my skin. The sun is out too, as if nature is celebrating my departure from the rehab facility.

"A cadillac?"

I let out a low whistle when I catch Koushiro's new ride. The colour is a bright cyan. Since when has Koushiro become this fancy? I take a photo of the car on my phone, messaging it to Akira and Taichi. No wonder this guy has been busy. There's a reason why he's rolling in dough, and the car proves that all his hard work has paid off.

"Yamato," Koushiro groans. "Get in the car already."

"You're killin' it now, Kou," I tell him. "I didn't pick you to be a cyan type of guy."

"It's my girlfriend's favourite colour."

"Oh, is it?" I wiggle my eyebrows.

"Quit trolling me."

I don't - I give him shit for the rest of the ride back to the apartment. By the amount of teasing I'm tossing at him, it's a wonder that Kou doesn't refuse my offer when I ask him if he wants a cup of coffee.

As we take our shoes and get into my place, I'm expecting everything it to be a dirty as fuck. I hadn't left my apartment in a good state, I know that for sure. I had been dreading returning back to my dusty home. I know that there will be empty beer cans, traces of drugs, cigarette butts -

I blink to make sure that I'm not hallucinating. "It's...clean?"

A wave of warmth radiates throughout my body.

"...let in by Takeru. The others helped out. We had a good cleaning session this past weekend. Everybody helped out. You left it in quite a state, and we decided that it was only best that you come back to a clean house. The vibe feels better when everything is tidy. I know that I feel much better when my workspace isn't cluttered. I'm never productive when everything is in a disarray. And - Yamato! Are you alright?"

I'm far from alright. I'm moved.

Had my friends really done this all for me? They had congregated together to clean up my apartment? That's crazy! Then again, my friends are a crazy bunch. I'm getting choked up by seeing how spotless everything is. I stammer, "You're all amazing."

I hug him. Initially, Koushiro freezes from the sudden movement. Maybe that's what I need to do. Hug everyone. Let them know how important they've been all to me, how appreciative I am for them existing in my life.

Koushiro relaxes and starts laughing at me. "I get it. You can let go now, Yamato."

"Sorry. I'm being extra emotional," I apologise awkwardly. "It's the medication."

"Sure." His lips crinkle to a simper.

As promised, I go to the kitchen to make him a coffee. He sits on the sofa, making himself at home. I roll my eyes when he picks a channel that have business people having a not-so-riveting thorough discussion about the stock markets. Then again, there is a reason why Koushiro is rich. I should take a page out of his book. The thought of looking at my bills and rehab fees isn't something I'm looking forward to. I don't even know how much money I had spent during the months I had been under the influence. Satou and Seiji-san had informed me that they had settled it...but the thought still leaves me feeling uneasy.

The kettle squeals.

I scratch the back of my head. I've been spacing out that I had forgotten to prepare the instant coffee. I pull out two mugs, opening the drawers to remember where I had stored everything. I don't want tea-tea? My hand hovers the unopened bag of Orange Oolong. It had been something I had bought absentmindedly; it had been the tea that I had meant to give to Sora...

"Yamato?"

I clear my throat. "It's nothing."

Closing the tea drawer, I continue to rummage through the others in search of the sachets of instant coffee. I pretend to not see Koushiro's concerned gaze.

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There's not many things one can do after you've contained yourself at home all week. I may have exhausted all my activities. At least, in rehab, I had my basketball crew and there were different optional activities every day. My therapist would book in sessions with me.

I could go outside, but I wasn't ready for that yet.

Well, the most I'd do is hit the closest Family Mart before turning back home. Family Mart already had enough stimulation. The ringing sound when you'd enter the convenient store. The cashier greeting me. The random strangers surrounding you. The radio music, blasting the latest pop song. It was all too much for me.

If I can't handle going to the convenient store on my block, there's no way that I can explore further. I need someone there with me for that to happen. Satou-san had momentarily confiscated my car and motorbike - which is fair, I guess. Both he and Seiji-san have been visiting me on a daily basis - which is kind and thoughtful of them.

My friends had done a magnificent job tidying my place up. And because it was clean, I ended up decluttering and discarding various unnecessary belongings of mine. Over the years I had collected a bunch of miscellaneous, materialistic things that I didn't really need. Therefore, coming home after living in a plain, minimal room at rehab, made me realise that I could live off bare necessities. The more one has, the more we aren't satisfied with what we truly have.

To keep me from being driven to the brink of sanity, I have been playing the guitar. My fingers are slowly, but steadily, gaining back the strength and dexterity through muscle memory. Despite a lengthy time of not playing the guitar, my body can still remember how to play it. Pretty astounding if you ask me…

Satou and Seiji-san have warned me not to do anything work-related yet, but music has never just been work-related for me. It's been my driving force, something that has kept me going for as long as I can remember. Even when I hadn't picked up an instrument, I had bopped my head to my dad's CDs, I had marvelled over movie scores, I knew the lyrics to every nursery rhyme. Music has been the only consistent thing in my life, and it's something that I can't get rid of completely.

Though, I have to admit, I had one night snuck a look at my work e-mail. Thinking about it gives me anxiety. The backlog of e-mails were daunting. There was one e-mail that caught my eye though. Even now, I can still recite it in my mind…

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Yo! Yamato senpai!

How are you? I hope you're doing well. I miss you. Seiji-san mentioned that you haven't been feeling the best, and that you'll be MIA for a while. Anyway...I don't know if you'll get the chance to check this e-mail any time soon, but I wanted to say thank you - and that I ACED MY EXAMS! Aren't you proud of me? I didn't ace them with flying colours, but I passed. That's what counts, right? It's much better than me failing and not graduating. I wanted to let you know how much you've influenced me, and helped me out through this pickle. If it weren't for you, I don't think I would have finished school. You mean a lot to me, and...I wanted to let you know that. I hope to see you soon. I've got so much to tell you!

- Miho

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Maybe in a week or two, I'll have to arrange some time to see her too. My sweet kouhai. Although she mightn't have known the ins and outs of what had happened to me, she views me in such a positive light, as somebody who has helped her out. The thing is, she also has helped me out too. She's made me realise that I matter to other people too, that I'm valued.

I might have stopped out of the limelight, choosing to play a part behind the scenes by composing songs, and teaching instead…but it made me feel useful. Wanted. It made me feel impactful despite not being on centre stage. Little things like this make me happy, and now that I'm sobered up, I'm reminded why what I do is what I do.

The down side about being locked in your apartment (and social media), is the stalking I've been doing. I've been trying to make up for the lost time, seeing what all my friends have been up to on Facebook and Instagram. Jun's got a new ear piercing and seems to be going through another fishnet punky, fashion phase. Hikari's childcare seems to be doing well from all the kids surrounding her in her latest Instagram photo. Jyou's started training interns at the hospital. Yutaka keeps repetitively (and annoyingly) posting lovey-dovey photos of him and his missus. And Sora's interior designs are incredible.

Yeah, you caught me. I know, I've been stalking somebody I don't deserve to be stalking.

I blame this on my own lockdown.

Working out has been doing me good, both physically and mentally. I now understand why people get addicted so addicted it. The exercise has been keeping me in good spirits, and my satanic trainer seems to never let me off the hook. I think he forgets he's had years of athletic training in contrast to me. Though, I must say, this is the fittest I've been for a while. Taichi's scolding to my ears is the equivalent to cheerleaders yelling their praises. It keeps me going. Tough love, if you ask me...but, hey, it works.

I'm still wrecked from our latest work out session. Laying on my back, staring at the ceiling, and puffed out. It's been an hour or two now since I've hung up from Taichi's video call. The quiet moments are something I've learnt to appreciate. I can't keep going on and on, running on adrenaline. Perhaps that had been my downfall before I had that big breakdown. I didn't know how to actually breathe and how to take everything for how it was.

However, laying around here like this isn't all that healthy either. The medications have been a huge factor to this. They've slowed down my movements, my thought process. I do aim to eventually get off them, but I've got to deal with what's in front of me now. I have come to terms that I can't change everything overnight.

"...we're at the door!"

Visitors?

I finally move, rolling onto the side before standing up back onto my feet. Two people this time. It's not Satou-san or Seiji-san because they already paid me a visit earlier that morning. It won't be Takeru. Taichi would have told me if he'd be dropping by because he was just on that video call with me. Jun...I haven't made the effort to get in contact with her yet. And…

While ambling, I brainstorm through my friends list of who would possibly be visiting me at this time in the evening. By the time I've eliminated Akira through the process of elimination, a fretful voice accompanies the loud knocking on the door, "YAMATO? Are you there?"

I laugh, unlocking the door. "Hey Jyou….and MIYAKO?"

My gaze had immediately drifted to Miyako when I catch the humongous bulge protruding from her stomach. I know my jaw is dropping when I exclaim to her, "YOU'RE HUGE!"

How had I missed out on this during my social media stalking adventures? I vaguely remember her prattling on about how she doesn't like leaking personal information on the web because of the chance of getting stalked...oh, right. People who stalk do exist - because I'm definitely one of them. As bombastic as she is, Miyako likes being private online. Still, how could I have forgotten that Jyou had spilt the news to me, that one time he checked on me. God, I'm an idiot. I hadn't asked him at all how he was doing ever since he had divulged the information about Miyako being pregnant.

"You're meant to say 'you're glowing', Yamato," Miyako scolds me.

She steps out of her sandals and grumbles on, under her breath, how I'm disrespecting her as she invites herself into my home. I'm not the least bit offended by it. This is Miyako after all. She always has the tendency to amuse the hell out of me. I close the door and trail behind my guests. Already, my home feels lively with excitement - something that I'm proudly welcoming with open arms.

Jyou follows after her, shrugging. He pats my shoulder as he walks past me, "Don't mind her. It's the hormones-"

"I heard that, Jyou!" she glowers at her partner. "Bloody doctors think they know everything! I'm the one delivering the baby! Do you know how heavy our child is? He's impossible. He'd a doctor and he couldn't even hold my hair when I was experiencing morning sickness. He vomited in the sink! You're so insensitive!"

"Yes honey."

Miyako snaps, "You're not meant to agree with me!"

Jyou displays a weak smile at me from behind Miyako. Something tells me that they've had this same conversation over and over again before. Despite Miyako being bigger than Hikari was, at least she's not as cranky. This is nothing compared to how crazy Hikari was.

Expecting Miyako to head for the lounge, she dashes around the corner and announces, "I'm using your toilet. I need to pee!"

What's something about Miyako that I won't ever get used to? ...her being open about everything she does. She has no shame in whatever the heck she says or does. Apparently it's because 'she's a nurse'. She'd then continue to defend herself that it's normal for her to talk about shit to her work colleagues - it's a hit in their tearoom. Yeah, I know right? Nurses must be insane. Talking openly about shit is never a concept I don't think I'll ever get used to. I have a strong stomach, but bodily fluids and excretion is not something I enjoy thinking about.

Let's not talk about excrement anymore...there is more pressing news to address right now!

"She looks like she'll burst any time soon," I speak up. She's definitely bigger than whenever Hikari would get pregnant. "When are you expecting?"

I haven't had a good look at him for a while, but he looks beyond exhausted. The dark bags under his eyes are the biggest give away. He takes his glasses off, rubbing them.

"Next week," Jyou gives me a feeble grin, running his fingers through his hair and resting against the kitchen bench. "Half of me wants our baby out already, the other half wishes that the kid would stay inside her longer. I already don't get enough sleep, I don't know if I'm ready for parenthood! I'm not prepared for it-"

"Man, you'll be the most prepared couple. You're a doctor; she's a nurse! Your baby will be fine. The two of you are a star team and your child will become the most intelligent baby alive."

"Don't say that. You won't know what will happen. Christ, I'm going to die," Jyou panics. "I'm not suited for this! How can I do this? I'm a surgeon not a father!"

"Not yet." I point out, "But you will be."

"How do you know this?"

"Takeru," I say. Images of baby Hiroto flash in my mind. Now that I think about it, it had been one of my most favourite moments in my life. Being dubbed an uncle, carrying Hiroto - crying even. It's a rewarding moment that I will never forget. "Takeru...he was stressing about it, triple times more than you are, actually. It's a feat within itself because my brother is in that tiny portion of the population who never stresses about anything. He was freaking out. But, you know, when Hiroto was born...it was like he just knew what to do. He adapted, like how you will Jyou."

"That does calm me a bit," Jyou admits. "How do you do that?"

"After over half a year in rehab, perhaps I've taken a leaf or two out of my therapist's book?" I consider, slightly smirking.

Jyou chuckles. "No, but really? I know it sounds stupid to ask how you are after all the stuff you've had to deal with, so I'm sorry. I know that I haven't been that much of a friend while you've been in rehab. With Miyako being pregnant, I haven't been able to drop in to check on you as much as I wanted to."

"No stress," I mumble. "I know you're busy...and don't say you haven't been a good friend. Miyako's pregnant!"

"I actually missed this," Jyou says to me. "You're the first who welcomed me in the group easily, and having you joke around like this...it's a good thing. I'm happy with your progress, and how far you've come. I know how difficult it must have been for you, Yamato."

Genuine Jyou. Genuine as ever. Maybe that should be his new nickname instead of the 'love doctor'. Man, I had forgotten that Taichi used to call him that.

"Thanks."

"And make sure to take your meds this time, right?"

"Yeah. I don't think it'll be a good idea to go cold-turkey off them anyway-"

I don't get to say anything else because our conversation is disrupted with a high-pitched scream.

"JYOUUUU!"

I exchange looks with the doctor, and it's like we've exchanged the same thoughts. His eyes are mirroring the exact terror that I'm sure is expressing on my own face.

We sprint towards the bathroom.

Miyako's on the floor. Her water has broken. She's clutching onto her stomach, eyes wide, heaving in and out for air. Her face is perspiring, cheeks pink. She moans, cursing out a string of swear words as she cries out in agony.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Miyako shrieks at Jyou. "YOU'RE A DOCTOR! GET IT OUT NOW!"

"It's not my specialty. I-I'm not trained for this!" Jyou wails in horror. He kneels down, awkwardly stroking Miyako's hair as if it will help to miraculously deliver their baby.

Miyako shoves him aside. "USE YOUR COMMON SENSE AND CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

Let's just say I don't want kids any time soon….

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(a/n) a shorter one this time compared to the crazy run of long chapters i've been writing. i was cackling like a hyena while I was writing that last scene. i hope you enjoyed this (much more) light-hearted chapter.

anyway, i tend to reply to reviews individually, but i thought i'd say it here as well...

i'm really thankful and grateful for all your support up til now. some of you have been here since the beginning, others of you are newer - which is just as amazing too! all your feedback as been wonderful and i appreciate every one of you. whether you're a silent reader, or somebody pouring out paragraphs in reviews. i love how you are really invested to the characters in this story - even all the way to the small side characters. this story has occasionally been difficult tackling, especially when most of it has been focused on mental illness(es)...so i really wanted to thank you for sticking around this far. 'a sorato that turned into something much more' has been thanks to all your support over the years.

i truly mean it.

xoxo