Just Another Love Song
Beat 4: Celebrate What?

The rest of the week flew by pretty quickly. We stayed busy with the three new songs I wrote and Hiro came over everyday to help me 'break in' my apartment. At least that's what he said. I think he's waiting for me to have a mental break down. I feel like it though, now that I have a new shadow following me around like that. I finally had to tell him that in order to get him to back off a little. I could feel myself slipping back into that 'use Hiro as a life anchor' that I was doing before. I needed to be able to function without anyone for a little bit. I need to know that I can take care of my own problems and myself. I still wanted and needed to talk things through every once in awhile, but ultimately it all comes back to me.

Fortunately, I managed to explain all this and Hiro understood. Who am I kidding? Why wouldn't he understand? That's what best friends are for! By Friday I was feeling pretty good, despite the fact that I hadn't received so much as a 'fuck you' from Yuki, or Tohma for that matter. I'm starting to wonder if maybe he hasn't even noticed I left yet. Somehow though, it's what one part of me expected. That not only did he not notice, but also if he did, he wouldn't care. He might even be happy about it. No matter how I feel about him, that thought hurts.

All week I've been trying to figure out how I feel about Yuki now. Do I still love him or not? And I haven't been able to get a straight answer out of myself yet. By the end of the day I'm just ready to go home and sleep the weekend through. We don't leave until almost nine o'clock, but we're rewarded with a three-day weekend for our extra hard work and late hours all week. Of course, it kind of blows K's attempt at being the nice guy when we realize Monday is a holiday anyway, but none of say anything. We just want to get home.

We part ways, Hiro heading off for home to sleep early. Ayaka's flight back to Tokyo is arriving pretty early in the morning so I knew he'd be heading straight to bed. I start to think about maybe heading out somewhere, but just thinking about it is making me really tired. I decide to skip going out and just head home.

I detour to the park, like I knew I would eventually, and sit down on a bench. I don't know why I keep getting drawn here. It use to be just habit, then it got annoying, and now… now it just is. I don't bother fighting it anymore; this place sucks me in like gravity. By the time I get up to head home it's after midnight. I can't even remember what all I thought about sitting there. Most likely just garbled junk, maybe even just nothing. I'm still tired, but I don't feel as bad as I did before.

I rounded the last curve towards the entrance when I see him. He's standing there, smoking a cigarette, and looking out across the Tokyo skyline with a sour look on his face. Almost like the first time we met. I stand there for a few minutes, just watching him before I realize that I don't feel anything. My heart's not pounding, I don't want to just run up and hug him. Nothing. I don't even feel guilty for leaving like I did. If I was in love with him, shouldn't there be something there? Shouldn't I feel something right now at seeing him?

I don't know what made him turn my direction, but the second he did our eyes locked. Now I did feel something. Sadness. Those golden eyes of his use to make me feel so much at once; love, anger, curiosity, fear; but now I don't feel a damn thing. And it's sad. Now I know. I know that I don't love him anymore. I keep his gaze, something I could never do before, and wait for his move. I expect something harsh, for him to turn around a leave, maybe even for him to be angry with me; but as he tosses his cigarette to the side and walks towards me, I can only see confusion in his eyes. He stops a fraction away and stares down at me. I can only look up back at him. Even when he's so close I can smell his scent I don't feel anything. It's like I'm numb. Denial maybe? I don't know.

"You left." He says softly.

I nod in return. "You did kick me out."

"But you didn't come back."

"You wanted me to?" I couldn't help but ask.

He doesn't say anything and I figure that question is answered. I'm wasting my sleep time for nothing, I figure, so I brush past him and head home. I only get a few feet before his voice stops me.

"Yes."

It's the first time in years he's said anything to let me think he's wants me by his side. But I still feel numb inside. I should be happy, elated even, that he admits to wanting me to come home. But there's nothing there.

"You…you missed our anniversary."

I turn around slowly, something new filling me, pushing the numbness away.

Anger.

"Anniversary of what Yuki? Of three years of you treating me like I'm nothing? Three years of being kicked out of your apartment? Or better yet, how about three years of me sleeping on your couch?"

He visibly winces at those last words and I'm glad. He's not a cold-hearted bastard all the time, and I'm grateful that those walls have come down for the moment. It'll make everything I'm saying sink in faster. I know I should stop now, what I just said was more than enough to get my point across; but I'm angry enough that I don't care anymore.

I can still feel something about all this. Maybe I do love him after all? Maybe I am in denial. Gods I still don't know anything anymore.

"Three years of being called an idiot. Three years of being told I have zero talent. Three years of never being told what, if anything, I mean to you. Do you honestly think I want to CELEBRATE any of that?"

His head is hung low now and he's shaking slightly. He's either pissed or crying. Somehow I don't care anymore. I decide it beyond time to go home so I can wake up tomorrow and regret everything I just did tonight.

"I'm going home. Back to the apartment I started renting six months ago so I wouldn't have to sleep in the streets every time you kicked me out. Why don't you go home and figure out what in the fuck we're suppose to celebrate three years of and get back to me on it?"

I leave him then, half stomping, half running until I reach my apartment building. I know I'm going to regret that in the morning, or at least I should. Actually, I hope I do. At least I'll know for absolute sure then.

If I don't feel guilty about tonight, I'll know for sure I don't love him anymore.