Violets and Emeralds
Unya, I updated! Please be proud of me… it's my 4th anniversary! -- heart heart It's also Orlando Bloom's birthday.
Wah! My cable connection isn't working right now, so I can't read my manga scanlations! Kaa-san's on the other computer, and that's the one with said scanlations… and well, obviously, by the time anyone reads this, the connection will be back up on this computer.
Chapter 6Naïve
Driving gets rid of stress if you're on an open road. Since I live in L.A., I hardly come across one of those. But being in the desert on a motorcycle is like being on a giant open road and it helps, even if you aren't the one driving. I held tightly to Malik-kun's waist, no longer feeling awkward. It was hot; I could feel that very well. However, this did not matter because I could feel the arid air whip past me, sending my hair streaming behind me. Malik-kun's hair was flying back too, but I didn't care very much.
Wow, we're kicking up a dust cloud behind us. I bet Camel-san doesn't appreciate that.
I dropped my bag of stuff that I bought at Malik-kun's house—they would be less than convenient to bring on this expedition. We'd be back there later, after all this was over. There's no set time for how long this will take; just however long it takes for both of us to be relieved of frustrations. In other words, however long it takes for me to cool my head.
I really hope I'm not putting Malik-kun out. That would be horrible.
Kami-sama, it's my last night with him. I can't tell him. If I did, it would leave this… emotional weight on the both of us.
But I could feel myself calming down and becoming my normal self once again. Feeling his body against me, warming me against the cool air whipping by, I could not help but feel lulled into a sort of reverie. I almost started to feel sleepy again.
Malik-kun somehow sensed that I was in a more conversational mood and looked over his shoulder back at me. "Are you alright now?"
I nodded.
I could see in his violet eyes that he was smiling. "Good." I wondered what he meant by that. He can be so cryptic sometimes, as I've realized. But my thoughts were swept away as he suddenly sped the motorcycle up. I grasped tighter onto his waist as I felt us moving up an incline. The bike seemed to protest, but continued on its directed course until we hit the zenith of the dune.
I let out a yelp as we hop over the over side of the dune. The opposite side was nearly vertical and I could not help but clench myself as close as possible to the person sitting in front of me out of fear and desperation. Malik-kun was laughing. I could hear it ringing in my ears like a bell or something of the sort.
"Y-you! Ah!" I began to yell at him. "I can't believe you did that!" Laughs started leaking into my scolding. Looking back, it was sort of fun. "You could have at least warned me."
"I'm sorry." He apologized good-naturedly. "Here comes another dune." He sped up a little more up the incline.
Nothing from this trip can make me fall out of love with him, I've realized. He can make me feel so good about everything. I mean, really feel good. There is a difference between happiness and euphoria. Euphoria is a temporary feeling that eventually passes and fades, when you seem to be on a plane of ecstasy, minus the drug. Happiness, however, does not necessarily come from laughter and adrenaline rushes. In fact, you don't even need to be laughing or anything to be happy. It comes from moments when you truly can look at yourself, look at everything and anything you have around you, and feel proud. Pure happiness is such a rare occurrence makes you forget your problems, or at least softens them. It comes, in this instance, from this warm person that, when I think about him, washes away my fears and memories of things that hurt.
Oh my, have I gone through a complete personality metamorphosis? I went from shallow and funny to philosophical and depressed. No doubt once I go out back to the States, my popularity will drop. No longer will I actually feel like flirting with the random fans. People will see someone in Otogi Ryuuji's body, but it won't be Otogi Ryuuji. It will be like that old body snatchers movie… thing.
Ooh, maybe there really are aliens somewhere…
Hah, I'm desperately trying to grasp at my randomness. I remember yet another book that we had to read my Senior year at the American high school. The Poisonwood Bible. In that book, a family of southern Baptist people from Georgia went to the Congo on a missionary trip. The reason I am recalling this is because of one of the daughters, Adah. When she was born, her twin sister grew up healthy and strong while she herself was born with her entire right side paralyzed. She would always limp slowly behind everyone else and could only use the left half of her brain. She called it her slant and it made her the most sane, level person there, despite that she seemed abnormal to her family. It made her unique. She loved ambigrams, words that can be read the same forwards and backwards. She called herself Ada because of this.
When she grew up, however, she learned that her remaining slant existed only because of habit. She worked to be rid of her physical deformity, but along with that, she lost her mental slant. She became more and more like everyone else. Ada died and Adah was born again.
"Tell all the Truth, but tell it slant." Emily Dickinson.
"I am losing my slant." Adah Price, or perhaps still Ada; some ephemeral thing in between persons, not either, not neither.
Hee, double negatives.
But here I was, like Adah fighting to keep her slant. However, the difference is that she lost her slant in order to fit in and I kept mine in order to achieve the same goal.
My slant was my randomness. My humor through unexpected turns in thought processes. I was losing it as this continued.
But in all truth, I just wanted to throw all that is familiar to me away and loose it in an ocean of this. I would prefer to lose my slant rather than Malik.
An hour is a long time to spend outside in the desert on a motorcycle. That is precisely why we spent an hour and fifteen minutes, give or take a few minutes. It was good for me, and even Malik-kun looked more unwound by the time we parked the bike at his house and began walking back to the hotel. I didn't really trying to see if Yuugi-tachi was still up and still had to get my stuff packed, but it didn't really bother me as much. I realized that I was leaving in the morning—the flight left at ten—but I felt good. It's like when I go driving with the top down and music turned up at home. Especially if there's just the slightest drizzle of rain, though not enough to actually be called rain.
I almost miss my car now—what the hell, I do miss my car.
I wondered what would happen if I kissed Malik right now. I also wondered what would happen if he could read my mind. That would be scary. He would know that I wanted to kiss him. He would know that I sometimes call him 'Malik,' rather than the less affectionate 'Malik-kun.' How would he react if he knew, anyway?
Never mind, I don't think that I want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. Some things are best left forgotten, and so I will attempt to forget all of this.
"You still need to pack, don't you, Ryuuji-kun?"
"Un." I nodded, still a little dazed.
"Do you need any help?"
I just nodded. I still felt incredibly good, but my stupid heart still hurt, and that brought the mental down with it. Again, to steal something from a bit of Literature I read in America, my "mental Board of Directors" were really messed up. Sadness (and my English teacher would strangle me for using such a bland word) had taken the co-chairman position with Confusion. Anger was, really, nowhere to be seen. Happiness sat there, wondering what he could do to please himself, and Passion was off in a corner, wanting me to do something, but since Reason said not to, he was dejected to the said corner, probably to jerk off or something like that. 1
"What time does your flight leave?" he asked, picking up a random article of clothes that I had left on the floor and putting it in the plastic bag that contained my other dirty clothes. I took this from him and just tossed it in the suitcase with my clean clothing, of which I had two sets left. Hey, the bag protected the clean clothes, right?
"At ten o' clock tomorrow morning," I answered.
"I see," he whispered, looking off at the interesting off-white wall. I wondered what it was that he felt right then as he stared, trying to find his answers in the blank space that occupied his attention. Could he possibly—no, he could not. Never. No way in frickin' hell, no.
Did someone ever tell me that I would, someday, fall so deeply in love that it should be impossible? Yes, several, actually, each in their own words. Did anyone ever tell me that it would not be so easy and would hurt some (a lot) of that time? Yeah, they said that, too. Did they ever mention that it would be with someone of the same sex from a different country who speaks a different language and has a completely different lifestyle than me? That… well, that, they forgot to mention.
I love you. But that doesn't really matter, does it?
My heart was making that stupid doki-doki sound. I could hear it and I think he could have as well. The divine script-writer must be toying with me right now, throwing me in these situations. I will find that person and kill him or her. Yeah, screw you for putting me through this, you and your corporate fast food franchises and pop music. You hear me? At least Camel-san is on my side! Beat that!
Whoa, I could feel myself messing up for a little while there.
But be proud of me in that, no matter what, I will not turn to illegal substances, no matter how easy they would be to obtain. I would lose my good spotlight if the media found out, as they inevitably would.
Then again, if Malik and I did get together, the media would be on that in a heartbeat, and there would go my popularity. But then again, I don't think that would matter quite so much, not anymore. Does anything really matter much, anymore?
I wonder if that means that Malik is kind of like my drug. I don't know—it's odd to think about. Then again, I haven't had enough to become so completely addicted.
Lord knows I want to be, though. I want to, and that is exactly why I must stop it once and for all, right now.
Too bad that I am one hell of a procrastinator.
It's so much easier to run than to face your problems. So I suppose that it is fortunate that tomorrow, at ten in the morning, I will be forced to run.
But would I take it back? No, never. I need this experience. If this is shame, then I will take it with me and keep it in my breast pocket (though I technically have none) and over my heart. Or just in my heart. That would probably be easier. It bothers me that I must affirm that to myself, though, that I would never let it go if I had the chance. That I wouldn't change anything.
I suddenly have the intense urge to see the Phantom of the Opera. I don't know why. Then again, I also want to splurge on ice cream. And cake. And waffles. They all just go together so well. Hear that, divine script-writing moron with too much free time? You know my demands, so fulfill them!
Malik is still standing there, staring at that wall. It has been a few seconds since he last said anything. I feel the awkward tension. "Nan ma fehempt."
"Hm?" I asked.
"Mafee—nothing." He shook his head as if coming out of a trance and looked at me as if, well, he was just coming out of a trance. There goes my eloquent vocabulary, right out the window! Whee, watch it fly! It's really going… maybe Camel-san will find it and return it to me. Then again, I don't think I'll ever see Camel-san again, so… he can keep my vocabulary. Make some money off of it. Come see Camel-san, the magical talking humped quadruped! But believe me, Camel-san, being famous isn't always happy. I mean, you meet a nice lady camel (Or who knows, maybe a guy camel) and you have no privacy whatsoever. Better keep it to yourself.
We did get to bed, eventually, after packing the rest of my things in almost complete silence. I had a souvenir for my friend in hand, and I could not remember buying it. I know I did sometime, but I just do not remember.
But anyway, though I really wished to sneak over to the other bed and cuddle with the one other warm thing in the room, I was a good boy and stayed put. I pulled the covers up to my chin and turned my back to Malik, the thought of him being so close hurting me, and yet not really caring.
I remember that it was around two in the morning. I had assumed that Malik was asleep by that time, but then he spoke one phrase that was in no way articulate or grandly scripted, but so heart-wrenching to me in that it was so simple: "I don't want you to leave," he whispered, probably not intending for me to hear it.
This will be another moment that I would lock away in my heart and never forget, no matter how bitter it would make me.
And the that I knew, it was 8:30 in the morning and I was at the airport. I had just finished apologizing to Yuugi-tachi for about the twentieth time that morning for ignoring them the majority of the weekend. They all dismissed it, and something tells me that from the look in Bakura-kun's eyes, everyone knew a little something of what was going on in my head. I have no doubt that Bakura-kun would say nothing, even to Kaiba-kun, so that must mean that I was damn obvious.
"Come back to visit us, okay, Otogi-kun?" Bakura-kun gave me a hug. I smiled, really. Had Bakura-kun and I met at a different point of time and under different circumstances, we probably would have become good friends.
"Take care of yourself." I shook Yuugi-kun's hand.
Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun both jumped me, ruffling the hair that I had not really cared to brush narcissistically this morning.
"Write us, will ya?" Jounouchi emphasized his demand, rather than question, by rubbing a fist into my head. I could feel my eyebrow twitching violently.
"And I'll tell you about Shizuka-chan and I," Honda winked, causing Jounouchi-kun to unlatch from me and yell at him. That's right, I used to like Shizuka-chan, didn't I? That seemed so long ago—probably because it was.
"We'll probably see each other soon enough," Mokuba-kun commented. "That is, if you intend to take DDM any further."
"Hell yeah." I grinned for an instant. We shook hands. I turned to Kaiba-kun then, and he was just staring at me. Did he know as well? Possibly. I wouldn't put it past him. "Kaiba-kun." I nodded my head and he did the same in return.
"You'll be alright, won't you?" Bakura-kun sidled up next to me and whispered the question so that the others, who were watching Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun, would not hear.
"Someday," I answered, "and soon, hopefully. It will take time, though."
He nodded. "Well, I will come with Seto and Mokuba next time they come to America. No doubt that somehow, Yuugi-tachi will force their way on the plane as well." He smiled sheepishly. "Somehow, Seto isn't too hard to convince into things."
"Something tells me that that is more about you or Mokuba-kun making the request than anything else."
He blushed. "Yeah." He turned to Malik, then. "Malik-kun." He bowed. "I am sure that we will see each other again."
I don't know how he can say something like that. Maybe he's prophetic. Or maybe because we've met enough in too impossible circumstances for it to just be coincidence. But then again, if it isn't coincidence, what is it?
Ah, it is the stupid divine script-writer. How could I forget?
Malik nodded. "Goodbye, Bakura-kun. I am sorry that our meetings could not be in better light."
He just smiled in his way, that way that tells you that everything is okay. "Perhaps next time? Just try to be happy."
That seemed like an odd farewell to me. I looked at Bakura-kun with a suspicious look and he just smiled some more. Not in that "everything's okay" way, but in that "I'm going to tamper with your life in a way I see fit and you can't stop me" way. It was quite scary coming from him.
"Numbers 50 through 99, please come to the boarding area."
"That's us." Yuugi-kun commented.
"Time to go." Kaiba-kun started walking with Mokuba-kun behind him. Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun followed after a few seconds. Bakura-kun walked up next to Yuugi-kun and both looked at the two of us one last time.
"Bye!" All of the people I knew who were bound for Japan waved to us, minus one, guess which. A certain brown-haired, blue-eyed, supposedly stoic corporate businessman.
"Bye!" Malik and I waved at them. I knew it wouldn't be the last time that I would see them—I would have business meetings with Kaiba-kun, and Yuugi-tachi would come along for the social occasion, thanks to Mokuba-kun and Bakura-kun.
The thing that bothered me most right now was the impending sense of departure that made me nauseously sick. It was the knowledge that in about an hour, I would leave Malik forever.
There's a song that could fit this situation well. The lyrics of the chorus go, 'Now I'm standing at a terminal, waiting to connect to another plane. And if I told you I just cancelled my flight to America, would you call me insane? Everything I am has been neatly contained into the contents of a Samsonite bag. Me, a laptop, two suitcases, and I'm coming to see you, whether you like it or not.' I just wish…
"Malik-kun, I…" I stopped and stared at him for a few moments. He held my emerald gaze with his violet own. I could…
"What is it, Ryuuji-kun?" He asked slowly.
I smiled sadly and shook my head. "It doesn't matter." Kami-sama, I think I just broke my own spirit. "If I ever see you again, I'll tell you." I picked up my carry-on luggage and followed the people of my same number range onto the plane, only once loosing nerve and looking back at the person that I was leaving behind. He too stared at me and I wished terribly that I could just drop my bag and run into his arms. But no, here I was, putting off the inevitable refusal I would receive and afflicting my own soul, ripping it to painful little shreds.
It was for the best.
"Malik-kun, boku wa…"
"Nan desu ka, Ryuuji-kun?"
"Nan demonai."
Um, hi? Ho, boy… V-chan's gonna strangle me for all that.
Notes and Translations:
1 – Reference to Leland from "Sometimes a Great Notion" by Kesey, the guy who introduced LSD to the public. Is it surprising that at least one of his characters is a druggie? But he complained about his mental Board of Directors, so why couldn't Otogi?
The song: Like It or Not by Darren Hayes. I was originally thinking of it when I read Pikachumaniac's "Fairydust" and "Look the Other Way."
The Japanese at the end of the chapter is a translation of the first three quotations of the boarding scene as I wanted to write them. But for the sake of readers, I decided that something that impacting to the story should be in a language that everyone could read and understand.
It's easier to run, replacing this pain with something more.
It's so much easier to go than face all this pain here all alone.
-"Easier to Run", Linkin Park, and a good deal of my inspiration for the last part of this chapter.