Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway. (Hindi ako ang nagmamayari ng mga tauhan ng SD, si Inoue ang gumawa sa kanila. Ang mga sumusunod na pangyayari ay hindi kasama sa tunay na istorya pero magsaya ka na lang sa pagbabasa '--')
Disclaimer 2: Song featured is written by Third Eye Blind
A/N: This chapter's for annedrew. I'm really sorry for the delay but I have to admit that it wasn't just school works that caused procrastination; I was devoid of inspiration and was quite in a state of literary decay...really sorry. anyway, this is gonna be so dramatic and angsty to the point of being annoying but enjoy anyway.
What started as trivial, clandestine meetings with Rukawa drastically transformed into something permanent and frequent; its regularity suddenly became as mechanical as attending school days and team practices. In short, it was the official status quo that constituted Mitsui and Rukawa's daily grind; rendezvous behind the campus' building's yard at 4:30 and savor their get-together hour until the final moment ticked off. But to Rukawa's dejection, Mitsui's passion towards what they had seemed to enervate each day in conjunction with chagrin and sheer ignominy. Clearly, Mitsui was still not the owner of everything he felt; within the hidden depths of his heart's most sacred chasms, there was still a part of Kogure's which he just couldn't scrape himself from, that is, his all-excluding devotion for him. Day and night without letup, he had been haunted my Kogure's serene concern for him; and the more the latter flaunted his tenderness, the more he became dear to Mitsui. This hampered Mitsui beyond imagination that he had become apparently pared down and bug eyed due to wearisome contemplations and consecutive sleepless nights. But however that might be, he had gone on hand in hand with both Rukawa and Kogure at alternating instances in great risk of his position.
Monday. 7:45 pm. Mitsui residence.
Every thought that I repent,
there's another chip you haven't spent
and you're cashing them all in,
where do we begin to get clean again?
Can we get clean again...?
The unreleased single by the international rock group Third Eye Blind wafted over the pervading placidity that hung around Hisashi Mitsui's room. Before Rukawa had had the pivotal moment to blaspheme what was there between Mitsui and Kogure, this song seemed to Mitsui a mere jargon whose words had been arranged in a certain but vague manner to achieve a rhythmic flow in each stanza; but at the precise moment he let Rukawa into his life, the esoteric elements that once mottled these phrases ebbed away to uncover the meaningful and somewhat fictitious essence of the writer's message. It was an intonation of utter frustration on the side of the writer added with a concentrated gravity to be subject to temptation that led him to believe he was helpless in any case. For Mitsui, he was in no better stance; he had been the eye of this forceful vortex, the power source of the acute love triangle among Shohoku's core players and by no means could he untangle the skein he had knotted together in treachery without morally degrading himself. All he could do was to remain as the story's deceitful king of wishful thinking unless he finally decided to slate himself to a point blank confession.
'I have to get this straightened up or else...' Mitsui told himself as he pummeled idly on his bed. This had been the only muttered phrase from his daily script on this beautiful Monday. For hours, he had holed up in his room repeating 'I have to straighten this up...' again and again that not uttering it for a second would seem unnatural and awkward. He thought for another set of minutes and gathered up what he had concluded from his solitary reasoning; he had to call Kogure.
He stretched himself up from slouching off and reached out his quivering hand to the phone on his bedside. He dialed their Sub captain's number as he heard the receiver from the other end ring thrice.
'Hello?' Kogure answered. How his voice, though hackneyed and meaningless, was music to Mitsui's ears.
'Kiminobu. Mitsui here.'
'Oh,' Kogure said in a voice that seemed to be touch with a pretense to sound interested. 'You need something?'
'Yeah...I guess so,'
'I hope it's not about your knee. It's not hurting, is it?' Kogure said in an almost dull tone that Mitsui guessed Kogure was very much aware that it wasn't so.
'No. Not at all.' Mitsui muttered with a disengaged tone. He wanted so much to declare that something more was hurting inside him, something that couldn't be diagnosed properly or be sufficed by any medical attention.
'Uhm...What is it?'
'Something has been bending me out of shape for the last few weeks. I'm feeling completely troughed...I...' Mitsui faltered. He hadn't cached up enough momentum to go for the red mark and ended up nondescript.
'You don't sound so healthy. Are you sick?' Kogure asked. This time, there was conviction in his words and he was unquestionably worried.
'No. But I'm staggering pretty badly here. I mean, emotional distress...Kiminobu, I can't...' I can't let you remain irrevocably stereotyped as an ignorant cuckold in this liaison; I've cheated on you and gave much of myself to Rukawa when you weren't looking. I'm an incorrigible adulterer, Kiminobu, a 'enunciable' all-surface chap cum scapegoat who's too prone to the devil, and I can't constrain myself. He intended to end it all up that way but a headstrong impetus made him impervious to any lofty call of conscience coming from his morale.
'Hisashi,' Kogure said in a perturbed manner; when he addressed Mitsui in a first name basis, it irrefutably meant that he was in for a one on one, personal talk with him. 'What is it about?'
'Us.'
'Us?' Kogure asked meekly. He wondered if 'us' still existed then. 'I can't see why, honestly. I mean, I haven't offended you in a way, or at least that's what I know. If there's something you don't want in this, just tell me; I can always lend an ear, you know that.' Kogure finished in his usual self satisfied tranquility.
'I know. It's just that...' Mitsui stopped short again and feeling that the other was already up in his head, he went on, 'I can't hurt you, you know that. Please don't waver on me...I can't...I can't be without you.'
'Hisashi, I've already told you; if you need help, I'm here.'
'Kiminobu.' Mitsui said, his tone suddenly jumping to another scale of volume and symphony. The problem is; What if I myself am the criminal? Would I deserve half your generosity? Would you jilt me unheard? Am I worth sounding out or being succored? Mitsui hankered to thrash all these but he had become immediately ashamed by the thought of Kogure's imminent disdain that he failed to entail his word with the pat sentence.
'What's wrong? Tell me what happened so we can get this all wrapped up,' Kogure proposed affably as if striving to soothe Mitsui's complicated tumult.
But not a syllable was ventured as a resounding silence reigned over from each end of their phone wires. Mitsui's former enthusiasm for the disgraceful revelation that he had to preside over suddenly landed in decrescendo as he felt the urge to all the more secure his relation with Rukawa. He couldn't hazard their affair now that he'd just known such happiness with him, but at the same time, he couldn't pit himself against the lies he had already stacked upon the one he loved, Kogure, whom he respected above all else and perhaps, even prized beyond measure. Being torn in heart and mind, he determined instead to cloak the existence of his infidelity that had been perpetuated by Rukawa's unquestionable and singular desire for him. Without further squabbling, Mitsui let out a long but somewhat undisclosed statement that could've aroused that much haziness,
'Listen, Kiminobu. No matter what, I respect you and am all for you; you know that, and nothing could blot out what we have for each other, not even if I cease to breathe at this very moment. What's in the scales is that I love you irrationally, inescapably, and infinitely; it doesn't matter if I fuck up at times; that can't be helped, I'm only human. But there's one thing I'm sure of; that though I'm subject to all filth a man can muster, I'm also capable of sacrificing a great deal of me. I could and am willing to lose everything to you and for you only, and if that isn't enough to make me worthy of you then let me give some more; you deserve someone more chaste and sinless than I am. But I love you. Please don't scorn the words of a man who has received much of the world's torment and joy the very moment you'd come to him, don't doubt the sincerity of my sentiments; it's all written in me...Goodbye,'
'Hang on, Hisashi-'
But the line went dead. Kogure grew excessively pensive and restless as thoughts about Mitsui invaded his silent lay off. Many conjectures came filling the abyss behind his skull and one dreadful thing he had surmised sent a rapid tremor beneath his skin and within the blood rush inside him; suicide. Is Mitsui guilty of scheming suicide at this moment? He thought. But he was too pent up to further spar the matter with his conflicted state of mind; a mental exhaustion seemed to bleed him dry in merciless strokes as he forced himself to read between the lines. What was it that Mitsui wanted to tell him?
Next day. 10:00 am. Shohoku Gym during practice break.
'Hisashi, a word please,' Kogure called to him. Mitsui, who was sitting next to Rukawa, immediately got up to follow Kogure. Rukawa drew a blank expression at Mitsui as his eyes fetched Mitsui's strides while the latter disappeared behind the entrance door. Kogure led Mitsui to the school yard. From what Mitsui could see, Kogure was looking particularly solemn and moist eyed. And suddenly, he felt a strange desire welling up inside him as they streaked further away from public witnesses; to grieve at his beloved's plaintive and thus forgetting his own.
Kogure's plain profile stood still before him; and the more clearly he materialized in MItsui's visual screen, the heavier his chest got as though being anchored by a ton of hefty machinery and as Kogure spoke, the cumbersome load didn't evaporate out of him.
'About the phone call. Hisashi, I'm worried; what is it that's depressing you?' Kogure said in an almost supressed tears. By now, judging by MItsui's conspicuous agitation, he had been assured that something was about to ensue with radical difficulty.
'It's me. I deserve to be decked. Kogure, forgive me. Please.' Mitsui said in an unexpected candor that Kogure shot him a look of confusion soldered with cool pity from his face.
Kogure paused for awhile; how odd it was to expect condescension from Mitsui, he wondered. But despite the obscurity that had suffused between them, Kogure felt as if a rampant pathos was taking hold of him and he knew it. At that moment, everything that was torturing his lover seemed to be grasped by his own reason, and though nothing was yet affirmed with regard to Mitsui's incomprehensible apology, Kogure felt that the impending, tearful conversation must start with it. Finally, he had become accustomed to sharing the magnitude of Mitsui's unknown loneliness and he was filled with pity for him.
'Hisashi, I still don't know what you're sorry for. But I hope you wouldn't go on as sad as you are. If you'll tell me, trust me we'll sort it out. But now, I can't still tell what the grounds are for being sorry or in what case should I forgive you. And until now, I'm still shocked about what you told me yesterday...what is it?' Kogure said patiently despite the fact that he had made himself completely redundant in trying to seek out anything from Mitsui.
'I'm a pest, that's it. And being a pest, I'm also plagued with animal instincts,' yeah, that execrable infection that's controlling these creatures is the king of me; I'm guilty of debauchery because I can't help desiring Rukawa besides you. Mitsui longed to add, but managed to speak what he could say only.
'And so am I; I'm also human too. But what is it?' Kogure said.
But you're so unsullied and pure and chaste, wherefore I'm dipped in filth. Mitsui thought.
'Don't degrade yourself by leveling yourself with me; you're too clean to be juxtaposed in any way with me.' Mitsui said.
'Why do you keep on slandering yourself? Have you done anything naughty lately?'
'Naughty is out of the statement; I've done something evil to you and to myself and to HIM,' Mitsui said, employing all means to make his answer trite and understood.
'Me, you, and him? Who's him?'
'Rukawa.' Mitsui said in a tone of reticent bitterness.
'What?'
'He's cheated on you.' A voice sprang out from the momentary lethargy that had breezed for a while Mitsui and Kogure were speechless. Kaede Rukawa had come to join their private discourse.
TBC