Chapter
11: Home
~
There is no greater sorrow than to recall a time of happiness when in misery.
Dante (1265-1321)
~Divine Comedy, Inferno, V~
~
New York City's summer meant a palpable harshness of the atmosphere which
dampened the air, making breathing an almost laborious task to do so. But the
heat did not dampen the celebration of life here. The rustles and engrossment
of city continued without giving a damn to the weatherman.
Kitazawa Yuki was here twice, being part of the celebration, indulging himself
in the rustles and engrossment. In the beginning, he was here, young, vibrant,
robust and smart. A daredevil he was and termed among his college mates.
College mates, that is. He couldn't classify them as "friends". None
of them were his friends nor could he ever constitute them in any other class,
as how he categorized his social circle, other than "college mates".
But the daredevil he was, his college mates couldn't care less than to just
hang out with him (and not him with them).
Stealing cars, shoplifting, gangsterism and the list continued for the
atrocities Yuki and his mates had committed. They were caught several times, as
a matter fact. But who cares? Nobody. Not even a single person would. Not even
someone as closely related to share blood relations would. Nobody would, at
all. It was the very same reason why he was literally "dumped" in NYC
anyways. Nobody, not even a single soul would care to see him in his act.
Nobody would even want to give him a damn.
There and then, he got himself expelled from college due to unacceptable
conduct to become one of the homeless wanderers of the big city, expelled from
the morbid celebration of life. But, it did not last for long.
He met Tohma. He met Seguchi Tohma, by chance and by fate. He was intelligent
enough to gain the trust of the fellow Japanese. He didn't know Tohma was a hit
off the Oricon Charts. In fact, he didn't know music at all, let alone Nittle
Grasper. All he knew at that time was to get some cash to settle his dinner
that evening. Tohma, however, gave him more than dinner. Tohma gave him a new
life.
From a superior to what he can finally considered Tohma as another
"mate" in his life, Yuki worked hard for the recognition, ironically.
But along the way, he went on searching for something more. He didn't know what
but, he just knew that he had to stay beside Tohma. Stick with him, leech on
him and search in him.
So now, he was here again for the second time, under the summer's heat, stuck
in the concentration camp of the buzzing lifestyle as a New Yorker would. He
was "fired" of his personal assistant job by Tohma just yesterday and
now he was here waiting for his new "assignment". Before he knew it,
half an hour was wasted waiting and Tohma came up to him with a boy.
"Kitazawa-kun, this is Eiri, Usegi Eiri."
+
Tutor. To be the boy's tutor.
Tohma commanded rather than requesting Yuki to take up the new task. The
thought came into Yuki's mind uninvited. He wanted to explode, to fuck Tohma
and that boy upside down and to wipe out the crazy idea out of their heads.
Kitazawa Yuki, a teacher? No fucking way!
But he didn't, upon seeing that boy.
Blond, sleek and beautiful. For a while, Yuki thought that boy was almost
demure. But, on closer look, Yuki shunned away from that boy. It was his eyes.
He couldn't see those golden eyes. He knew those eyes. Under that pair of eyes
was a frequency of satiric commiseration Yuki felt closely bonded to.
Struggling hard to recall those pair of eyes he had seen before, the
realization struck him as these eyes once belong to someone he was more than
familiar with. Someone that was once buried deep inside him heart with no
intentions at all to reappear again in his memory until now. It was his own
past, the other Kitazawa Yuki, hiding in his memory, forever crying in his own
childhood.
+
The first week was acquaintances. The second and third were familiarity. The
fourth was a heart-to-heart conversance. The rest was a soft tingling
attraction and many unsaid words.
That was how their meeting went on with time. Fate crossed their paths, yet
their stories were always parallel to each other, never to meet and neither
would they intersect.
+
"Why are you in New York, Eiri-kun?"
"...I rather not talk about it, Sensei."
"Why not?"
"...Sensei, I..."
"Forget it."
"Huh?"
"Just forget it."
"Oh. Okay."
"...Eiri-kun."
"Hm?"
"We..."
"Sensei?"
"...We're the.same.Eiri-kun."
+
It was not long before they shared the same bedroom (They were not on the same
bed, of course, but their mattresses were beside each other's.). Both their
social circle had shrunk down ever since their acquaintance. It seemed as if
they could only communicate with each other and nobody else (except for Tohma).
They would be at the park on days without classes (Yuki went back to college,
thanks to Tohma again) or else it would be the nearby old- furnished library.
Tuitions were no longer tuitions. The two would tend to stray away from Eiri's
work whenever one started to execute a conversation. Every second, every
minute, every hour, every day, every week and every month.
Then came two weeks of separation with Eiri going back home for a visit. It was
right then Yuki found himself constantly looking out through the apartment's
window and deliberated. He couldn't decide his feelings. Was he missing Eiri?
Or was he just uncomfortable with the sudden quietness of the house (Eiri was
rather lively whenever they talked...perhaps a little too lively sometimes)? He
looked out through the window, onto the flat opposite his or theirs or Tohma's,
seeking for an answer.
Then, as if of a sudden, he recalled what he said once to Eiri on the day they
met. It was Christmas Eve actually. The thought simply came across him and he
voiced it out not knowingly. He said Eiri was Kiddy Santa Claus bringing his Christmas
present to him. He wondered why did that thought came to him and it struck on
him like a tight slap. He could never survive if Eiri ever leave one day, like
a kid who would never receive his Christmas present anymore. He knew that he
would be betrayed yet.again, and his soul would be destroyed.
Upon that conviction, Yuki lied down on Eiri's bed and pushed himself against
the latter's pillow and kept it there for a long time and breathed hard,
feeling only apocalyptic fury at the world. The world was going to betray him
yet again. At that moment, he wanted to bring Eiri back and kill him and he
would then die beside him on this bed. But, it was not long before he jolted
up, breaking into cold sweat.
What was he thinking? What was this fear of losing Eiri? What was this anger of
the possibility whereby Eiri would betray him? Was this love declaring to
himself? Was this love at all?
The thought of killing and dying beside Eiri was true but clearly an
exaggeration: He was a man after all. Was this his hysterical mind calling out
to him or was it due to a sudden awareness of his inaptitude for human
relationships that he felt an urge to stimulate it? No matter what the answer
was, Yuki knew at that moment that he had to retreat. He had to make distance.
He had to stop himself.
So he sat down at the empty table and was almost hysterical, on the verge to go
mad.
He didn't want to do that. He didn't want to claim Eiri's life and to make
Eiri's only purpose was to love him. He went on working out the math of two
lives, his and Eiri's. On his own side, he calculated an inborn weakness. He
needed Eiri too much. And so to balance the equation, he had to go.
+
He chose this path in the end. He chose to end it in misery.
He wanted Eiri to hate him and to stop deluding himself from making the wrong
decision. He wanted Eiri to forget him and wiped out every single memory they
shared. He wanted Eiri.too badly that he chose to end it. It was, nevertheless,
his life, his decision, his path, his fate.
"Nothing good would come out of this relationship."
What was left was the gunshot through the night, the tingling attraction and
many unsaid words, the ending of one's story and continuation of another in a
new dimension and the cries of a young man and a boy that has a past similar to
that young man.
+
Misfortunes of our lives will always set us apart. But it is those misfortunes
that we endured that renders us human and in the end, set us free instead. This
is a story of a man who tried love as a mean to render him human but knew he
could not.
+
I am drowning. I met you, know you, love you and refuse you. Each and every act
of a drowning man gasping for air.
***
No one broke the silence. All that Eiri did was to hold Shuichi in his arms
with Shuichi leaning his head against his shoulders. There were, however, the
strains of sobs that shook the room but it was not enough to initiate any
conversation.
In fact, there was no need for conversation. Everything had been said. All that
was left now were misplaced happiness and painful sadness. The sadness meant:
we are at the end of the road. The happiness meant: we are together. Sadness
was formed. Happiness was contented. The sinking happiness filled in the empty
space of sadness. And the rest of it was an aching peacefulness and serenity.
"The operation ward is ready. We have to start now." The nurse barged
in rudely.
"Yuki..." Shuichi whimpered weakly, his voice choked with an utter
yearning to stay. He enfolded his arms even tighter around Yuki's waist,
praying deep down inside that he would never have to let go.
"Yuki..." Shuichi called out again, muffled under Eiri's embrace.
Suddenly, he felt he had so much to say but words wasn't allowed to him to
construct them into a sentence. It struck him that if he couldn't say it, he
couldn't express it in any other forms either. All he could do was to keep
calling Eiri, hoping that he would feel the mournful desire in his tone.
Tears made their way through Shuichi's eyes. Tears of a heartbreaking sorrow
that spoke the uncertainty of death that could very well separate one from his
loved ones. Tears of a melancholic grief that spoke the pain of hurting one's
loved ones.
"...Shuichi." Eiri echoed back softly. He couldn't decide his
feelings - or more correctly - he didn't know what his feelings were. Even till
now, he couldn't make up his mind. He knew his love Shuichi and had admitted
it. He knew he had once made known to himself that Shuichi's departure would
mean nothing but misery to him. He knew it all. But, right at this very moment,
where only a thin fine line differentiated life and death - so as people would
call it, he was lost with his feelings.
"...Shuichi, I..." Eiri was finding the right words to complete his
sentence. God damn it, why couldn't he be just be a little fucking clear headed
right now? What was this fucking dizziness in his head? What was this nausea he
was feeling? What was this blurred confusion swirling in his mind? What were
all these?
He looked down. He could only see Shuichi in his eyes, all teary - the
beautiful innocence was torn apart by the pain of uncertainty and love. He
could see it, feel it and hear it.
Shuichi was dying - the thought was unbearable. It jolted and shook Eiri. It
made him place his hands on Shuichi's cheeks. It made him stroke Shuichi's
tears off with his fingers gently. It made him placed his lips on Shuichi's.
"Yuki..."
Eiri closed his eyes as he pressed his kiss on Shuichi. Then what he saw were images
of their past - their acquaintance, every single time they kissed, every single
time they were on bed, every single time Shuichi smiled at him, every single
time Shuichi pouted at him, every single time Shuichi called him
"Yuki", every single time Shuichi cried before him, every single time
Shuichi quarreled with him, every single time Shuichi hugged him, every single
time Shuichi bit his ears just to wake him up, ever single time Shuichi told
him that he could cook so good, every single time Shuichi came back and he
heard him at the door screaming with all his genki-ness, "Tadaima,
Yuki", every single time he saw Shuichi's love notes and every single time
he saw his own reflections in Shuichi's eyes.
Eiri felt overwhelmed. He parted his lips and watched Shuichi, catching his
breath like he was. Shuichi's tears were still streaming down the contours of
his face. And before he could wipe them off once again, Eiri saw his own tears
landing on Shuichi's cheeks.
"Shuichi...come
back to me, alright? Come back to me..."
***
For the first time in my life, I caressed you and felt cold. For the first time
in my life, I kissed you and felt cold. For the first time in my life, I loved
you and felt cold.
For the first time in your life, you didn't caress me back. For the first time
in your life, you didn't kiss me back. For the first time in your life, you
didn't love me back.
Hence, I picked you up into my arms, with you staying silent and unmoved. I
whispered soft kisses onto your callous face. I hold onto the unfeeling hands.
I don't want to let go of you anymore.
Anymore.
***
Tohma stared at the blurred orange firmament blankly as he sat himself down on
the ledge. The gentle wind swept his cold cheeks as it sailed the snowflakes
through the December light and finally anchoring them onto the gray grounds.
Tohma was cold. He could feel his fingers, however gloved they were, numbing
with the winter twilight. And with one deep breath of the cool saturnine air,
he finally hushed an almost inaudible sigh and looked down at what was in
between his hands - a book encompassed by a dull white hardcover where snow
camouflaged.
Tohma swept the fallen snowflakes off the book gently and was indecisive. He
could not choose between re-opening the book and shutting it as long as he
wanted to, perhaps never opening it again. He tried so hard to suppress the
ever-powerful urge of continuing it. This was because he was afraid...afraid
that the verdict might engulf him, leaving nothing but an empty resilience of
conformity and hopelessness. Yet, the truth was haunting and ambitious to
overcome Tohma's willpower. Never before was Tohma under such immense
ambivalence and pressure. How could one of power and fame ever taste the
bitterness of indecision?
Nevertheless, after shutting his eyes counting from one to ten silently, Tohma
announced defeat and succumbed to the truth. He opened the book and flipped to
the page with a corner marked indistinctly and started to read.
+++
19.
That
moment, I opened the door to our apartment and I saw him. He was everywhere.
At the door
The aisle.
By the window.
In front of the TV.
On the couch.
At the most right hand corner of the living room.
In the study.
On my chair.
On my table.
On the stool.
In our bed room.
On the bed.
The bathroom.
The bathtub.
The shower.
The sink.
Outside the bathroom.
In the kitchen.
In front of the oven.
And the stove.
The dining table.
He was there, everywhere, doing what he would always do there. And he always
had that smile on him. The innocent boy's smile. The smile that I had always
wanted to protect. The smile that I had always wanted to be around me.
Then, he looked at me. Every single one of him around the house looked at me.
All of them smiled at me like he usually would. Then, I heard every single one
of them calling out my name before they all disappeared from me. It was at that
time, I screamed.
~
20.
Before
I knew it, I wrote all this in past tense. I wanted all this to be the past. I
really wanted them to.
~
21.
"We're
the same."
I didn't understand what that meant when I was sixteen.
But I do now.
You were wrong. We aren't the same. I can't protect the one I cared for in the
end like you did. I even watched him destroy himself.
I am the guilty one. I am the murderer. I should be the one on the crucifix.
But before that, I am going to find him. No matter where he is.
I know where he is and I will find him.
~
22.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
+++
"Tohma?"
Tohma shut the book and turned around. It was Mika.
"It's cold, you should stay in the house. You are still weak from your
labor." Tohma lurched towards his wife.
"I'm fine...you're...reading that again?"
"...Mm."
"Tohma..."
"Don't worry, I'm fine."
The couple sat down on the ledge and watched as the evening sun set,
overwhelming the sky into a murkiness of indigo and stars. The wind was much
colder than before and the early strains of the chirping of cricket were
vaguely heard. The snow were still falling but with a darker color of claret.
"Tohma."
"Hm...?"
"...Had he...had Eiri gone home...do you think?"
"Mika...He had...he had." Tohma repeated as he smiled weakly.
The night was cold but hearts were warmed and the heavens sighed in the winter
with a long but heartening resonance.
-The End-
-I Need You-
-All 11 chapters complete-
Note: For those who didn't get the ending, Shuichi died and so did Eiri. Sorry that I wrote the ending in such a subtle way but I think it is most appropriate.
