A/N: i LOVE matchablossom with my whole being and i'm sorry to do this to them but i am afraid i am in an angst-writing mood and this was the product
the song is "boote in der nacht" from the german musical "elisabeth", and the translation of the lyrics i used is mainly from post/184633081406/original-english-lyrics-for-boote-in-der-nacht
hope you all are doing well! love you 3
xoxo Ever
Love can do wonders
But even the greatest love can fail
Faith can be strong
But sometimes our faith is just a veil
We dreamed of glories
That never ever came
Now it's time to face the facts
And end this game
"What are you looking at?"
Sharp words, sharper than the icy wind that sweeps through the navy Okinawa sky, chilling Kojiro to the bone. At least that's nothing new.
"What are you talking about? I'm not looking at you." A lie, but when has Kojiro ever been honest when it comes to Kaoru? "Don't be such a princess."
"Oh, shut up," Kaoru huffs, sliding a hand through his long twist of cherry-pink hair. "That's rich coming from a half-wit gorilla."
"Well, maybe I am a half-wit, but at least I don't have a metal ring through my lip." Kojiro squints in order to better make out Kaoru's lip-piercing through the quickly darkening night air. "What's the deal with that, anyway? You goin' punk?"
"It's called style, Kojiro, though I wouldn't expect you to know anything about that." Kaoru shakes his head like he's disappointed in Kojiro, his nimble hands continuing to twist his candy-colored locks into that ponytail-twist Kojiro's never seen another guy pull off in his life. On Kaoru, though, it looks effortless, even though he knows there's nothing about Kaoru that's not meticulously planned.
"What are you talking about? I've got plenty of style."
"Ripping off your shirt and tying it around your waist is hardly what I'd consider fashionable," Kaoru jabs, but this time, his eyes are laughing, that little golden glint hinting at the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Besides, weren't you just saying yesterday you wanted a tattoo?"
"Well… I was saying a lot of things yesterday." Kojiro hardly remembers saying that at all. When Kaoru breaks into his dad's liquor cabinet and the two of them head up to the hills, well… he tends to forget a lot of the things they talk about, half-drunk on tequila and unrequited love.
"Hm? Don't tell me you're chickening out, gorilla." Suddenly, Kaoru leans forward and grabs Kojiro's tie, jerking him forward so that their faces are inches apart.
Kojiro is out of breath almost immediately, suddenly very aware of how alone the two of them are in their favorite, secluded alleyway, the amber of Kaoru's eyes lit only by a single streetlamp. Of how close the two of them are. One misstep, one too-close lean, and they'd be kissing. The mere thought of it makes his head spin.
"Chickening out? Me? Never." Kojiro sets his jaw, a slow grin spreading across his face. He's nervous out of his mind, sure, but he'd never let Kaoru know that.
"Well, then. Tomorrow, 5 pm, at the Black Ink Tattoo Parlor. I'd tell you not to be late, but that's never worked before." Kaoru's lips bend into a half-smile half-smirk, his lip-ring glinting in the moonlight. "What do you say?"
"Hell yeah," Kojiro says, his grin deepening, and he runs a hand through his matcha-colored hair, the challenge in Kaoru's stare reflected in his own. "But only if you draw it for me."
"Draw it for you? You'd really trust my judgment enough for that?" Kaoru questions, his eyes dancing, and Kojiro knows the thought of designing something that will last forever sends shivers of excitement through Kaoru's bloodstream. That's just the kind of person he is, so passionate it's almost blinding.
"Can't think of anyone better to do it," Kojiro says simply, because simply is the only way he ever seems to be able to convey emotion when it comes to Kaoru.
Kaoru smiles. It is enough.
The two of them skate all night and into the early hours of the morning, and by the time the sun finally comes up in the East just like it always does, Kaoru is sleeping peacefully on Kojiro's shoulder, his board still clutched in his arms as pink tendrils of hair slip from his ponytail and tangle with Kojiro's emerald curls.
Kojiro wishes that they could stay like this forever. Maybe they can, if he just holds on tight enough. Maybe, if he just holds on tight enough, Kaoru might never make him let go.
They can't stay like this forever.
They don't.
You and I are two ships in the night
Each one bound for other routes and passing out of sight
We crossed paths just once in the sea
And came close and true as could be
But what we could have had is lost in night
How many nights did he lie awake in bed, thinking of him?
A hundred, maybe? A thousand? It doesn't matter, after all, he would have spent a thousand more, awake and alone and tangled up inside his own head, if it meant that at the end of it all, Kaoru would love him. If Kaoru would finally see that he'd been waiting for him, all this time.
Stupid. Pathetic, really, and a little ironic, to be having these cheesy thoughts in the middle of one of these very sleepless nights.
Kojiro stares at the ceiling of his apartment, counting the little snake-like cracks that lace the corner of the room. One. Two. Three.
Stop spiraling, gorilla, and go to sleep.
He shuts his eyes to block the voice from his mind. Why is this his curse, to hear Kaoru in his mind at every waking moment of his life? Why is he condemned to think only of Kaoru's stupid face until the day that he dies, and maybe even then, too?
Kojiro has tried everything. Sleeping with girl after boy after girl after boy, drowning his troubles in his cooking, doing anything he can think of to make himself hate Kaoru, really hate him, but it's futile. Even when he's stressed and angry and minutes away from snapping, he can't seem to stop those familiar butterflies that flare to life in his chest every time Kaoru walks into a room.
He rolls over and grabs his phone off the bedside table, wincing when the bright screen lights up his dark bedroom and nearly blinds him.
4 new messages.
Kaoru: Have you heard from the kid recently?
Kaoru: I'm worried about him.
Kaoru: You're driving me to S tomorrow night. Maybe we pick up the kid?
Kaoru: No complaining about pushing my wheelchair, either.
Kojiro can't keep the grin off of his face at Kaoru's messages, and he wants to punch himself in the face for it. Kaoru sounds like a concerned father, "the kid" of course meaning that red-headed punk, Reki, and it makes Kojiro snicker alone in the dark.
It seems that even in the hospital, Kaoru has the strength to bicker with him. There was a time, once, when Kojiro thought that bickering was Kaoru's own way of flirting. He's still not sure whether he was right or wrong about that.
Kojiro: Talked to him yesterday
Kojiro: seemed REALLY off
Kojiro: And of course not, your highness. I am honored to push your chair
Kojiro says the words in jest, but he means them. Every time he closes his eyes, he hears the sickening crunch of Adam's board against Kaoru's temple, sees the way Kaoru collapsed on the ground like a rag doll like the life had been slammed right out of him.
It twists his heart like he's being stabbed, and Kojiro decides he can't just lie here anymore. He stands up, nearly tripping over his board as he does so, and stumbles to the kitchen, a hand on his forehead as he tries to temper an impending headache.
The kitchen floor is cast in the eerie yellow glow of the refrigerator, the whole room looking like it's straight out of a horror movie, and Kojiro half-expects something to jump out at him as he pours himself a glass of water.
He should check on Kaoru. He should drive to the hospital, right now, and make sure he's okay. Make sure he's not lying there, dead, with nothing but Adam's face circling through his mind for company.
Does Kaoru think of Ainosuke like Kojiro thinks of Kaoru? Kojiro isn't sure. Maybe, even now, Kaoru is dreaming of that blue-haired menace, that sorry excuse for a human and a worse excuse for a friend.
He should check on Kaoru.
Kojiro grabs his keys and almost leaves the tap running as he sprints out the door like the world is ending. Maybe, his is.
You've longed for greatness
But sometimes a little can atone
You've always dreamt so small
We live too long in darkness
To bear it all alone
I can't live mine at your call
The reason why I didn't respond to your beef… was simply because it was boring.
Kaoru's eyes flutter open, and if he were anyone else, he'd be out of breath, panting frantically and looking around for something, anything to ground him in reality after such a traumatic nightmare.
But he's not anyone else. He's Kaoru, and Kaoru is cold and calculating and is hardly the kind of guy to cry out for help in the middle of a hospital. It's not like anyone is around to hear him, anyway.
Slowly, he swings his feet over the edge of the bed, the crisp hospital bed sheets so starched that they crinkle in the nighttime silence, and gingerly gets to his feet. He has to clutch onto the bed frame once he's upright to keep from falling, and it's so awfully undignified that Kaoru can hardly stand it. Still, he makes his way over to the window of Chubu Tokushukai Hospital Room 208, stumbling over and throwing open the curtains.
Outside, the world is asleep, all quiet streets and glowing headlights and the gentle hum of electricity darting across cabled telephone poles. Kaoru had insisted on a hospital room with a view, and it seems like even with a concussion, he can still be incredibly persuasive.
As always, your skating has no surprises. It's over-calculated, so it can never cross the line.
No matter how many times he shakes his head to clear it, no matter how many times he draws in a deep breath and counts to ten, Kaoru cannot shake Adam's words from his mind. Cannot shake the way he looked at him, slumped on the ground: like he was tired of him. Like he felt absolutely nothing while Kaoru's heart was shattering into a thousand pieces.
Kaoru had thought that Adam had hurt him so badly already that there was no possible way he'd be hurt by him again. He was wrong.
"Kaoru?"
There's a knock at his door, and Kaoru sighs, rolling his eyes.
"Go away." He doesn't bother to turn around as the door opens, and someone shuffles inside. For a minute, the footsteps linger by the doorway, but soon enough the mystery figure is at his side, and Kaoru looks deliberately away from where he stands. "What are you doing here?"
"I knew you'd be up," Kojiro says matter-of-factly, folding his obscenely muscled arms over his chest. "You always are."
"It's, what, one in the morning? How did you even get in here?" Kaoru refuses to look at him, because if he does, he might start crying, and that would be embarrassing enough to send him packing for good. This damn concussion. Making him all sappy.
"I have my ways," Kojiro says, winking, and Kaoru scoffs.
"Do your ways include flirting with the night-shift nurses?"
"Ah, well aren't you perceptive." Kojiro smirks at him, that damned half-smile that always sends Cherry's heart rate spiking. This damn concussion. "And it was only one nurse, actually, so don't get all judgemental on me."
"Me? Judge you? I wouldn't dream of it," Kaoru says, and this time he does look up at Kojiro, or rather, the blurry mass of muscle that he assumes is Kojiro. "Hand me my glasses, won't you?"
"Sure, old man," Kojiro says, laughing like he's the funniest guy in the world, and he passes Kaoru a pair of wire-frame lenses from the bedside table. "How about a thank you?"
"How about not?" Kaoru slides the glasses over the bridge of his nose and the world becomes a little clearer, Kojiro sliding into focus a little better. He's wearing an unzipped hoodie and no shirt underneath, of course, and are those… pajama pants? "Putting on clothes was too much to ask of you, I guess."
"Oh, come on, you know you like me better this way," Kojiro says, winking at him, and Kaoru just scowls at him darkly. "What is it they're always yelling, back at S? Do you wanna lick these abs, too?"
"I don't want to talk about S." Kaoru folds his arms and sighs, suddenly very aware of the many bandages that are currently wrapped around his bruised skull. "Or your abs, for that matter."
"Fine by me." Kojiro shrugs. "Got any beer?"
"This is a hospital, not a bar, you stupid gorilla." Kaoru glares at him, this boorish, brainless, beautiful boy who thinks he has the right to just barge into Kaoru's room without permission. "Go find some girl out on the street and drink yourself half-blind, if that's what you're looking for."
"Ouch." Kojiro looks a little concerned, now, and Kaoru regrets his tone. He's always regretting his tone when it comes to Kojiro, though he'll die before he admits it. "So not doing well, I take it?"
"Ha." Kaoru laughs darkly, moving to sit on the edge of the hospital bed and Kojiro follows suit, folding his legs and sitting cross-legged on the hard floor. He looks like a big child, and it nearly makes Kaoru laugh for real. "Never been worse, actually."
"Hey. Hey." Kojiro leans forward, his grin slipping a little. "I hope you're not thinking about him."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"You know he's nothing, right, Kaoru? You know he means absolutely nothing?" Kojiro is fully frowning, now, and Kaoru hates it, this concern, this little one-a.m. therapy session. He doesn't need help, especially not from Kojiro. "Just tell me you're not beating yourself up about this, okay? There was nothing you could do."
"I'm not," Kaoru lies, and he knows that Kojiro isn't even an inch convinced. "At least I didn't get beat by some rookie. By some kid."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Kojiro waves a hand dismissively. "You're perfect, we get it."
"Hardly." Kaoru sighs, and maybe it's the night or maybe it's just Kojiro being there, but some of his edge wears off. He doesn't feel as bitter, doesn't feel that dull ache in his head anymore, and he draws in a deep breath, resting his chin on a hand. "That's been made abundantly clear."
"So you are thinking about him," Kojiro shakes his head, frowning at Kaoru like he's somehow disappointed in him. "Damn it, Kaoru."
"Don't give me that. You don't know what it was like. To look in his eyes and see only pure, unadulturated boredom staring back at me." Kaoru realizes his hands are shaking, and he clasps them together tightly enough to hide it from Kojiro. "You don't know what it was like to have him hit you in the face with a board because your skating was too predictable."
"This isn't about just that match. It's about all of it." Kojiro nods sagely, like he's hit the nail on the head, and Kaoru glares at him. How dare he try to psychoanalyze Kaoru? "Did you ever get over him, really?"
"Oh, so you're going to go there? At one in the morning?" Kaoru is suddenly hit with a wave of rage, and with it comes a splitting headache, and he stands up sharply, putting a hand to his head and stalking over to the window where he doesn't have to look at Kojiro. "Get out."
"Wait, Kaoru, come on, I didn't mean it like-"
"Get. Out." Kaoru's tone is as cold as ice and twice as sharp, and he doesn't miss the way Kojiro sighs at the words, doesn't miss the way he slowly gets to his feet, and if Kaoru was looking at him, he would've noticed how utterly dejected he looks.
"Fine. Sleep well, Kaoru," is all he says, and Kaoru doesn't look at Kojiro as he makes his way to the door, as he opens it, as he glances over his shoulder before he shuts the door with a sense of finality that only worsens Kaoru's headache.
"I will," Kaoru says to an empty room.
He does not sleep well.
If only you could see
My world through my eyes
Then you would listen to me
And realize:
You and I are two ships in the night
Each one bound for other routes and passing out of sight
We crossed paths just once in the sea
And we were as true as could be
But happiness for us was not our right
Kojiro goes to work like nothing is wrong, like everything is as it's always been, and tries to pretend that he's fine.
He's an excellent chef, that he cannot deny, and he spends his day focusing intently on his dishes, doing his best to purge all else from his mind. He doesn't do all that good a job of it.
After work, he goes on a date. It's not a proper date, really, not like the one he'd like to take Kaoru on, someday, if things were different.
This girl is tall and blonde and doesn't really want to do much talking, and they barely make it through five minutes of conversation over a bowl of Joe's finest spaghetti before they're in his room. In his bed.
It's this kind of thing that makes him hate what he's become. Lying here, next to this girl who's name he's already forgotten, who he'll probably never see again after today, and trying to pretend that he's fine.
Even now, he thinks of Kaoru. Of his little half-smile, his calculating stare, the way you can practically see the wheels in his head turning, analyzing your every move. Other people might feel watched, might feel threatened by such sharp intensity. Kojiro just feels loved by it; like Kaoru cares enough about him to actually look at him, to see him, not just fuck him and move on with his life like it doesn't even matter. Like Kojiro doesn't even matter.
He thinks about that kid, too. Both of them. He sees so much of himself in Reki that it's almost painful, and he knows just how much the kid cares about Langa. Funny how history tends to repeat itself.
"Hey… Joe?"
Kojiro nearly jumps at the voice before he remembers that oh, yeah, there's a girl in his bed. He rolls over and runs a hand sleepily through his hair, squinting to make out her face in the dark.
"Mm… Yeah? What's up?"
"Are you good?" The girl frowns at him. "You look like you're about to cry."
"Oh, yeah, I'm all good." Kojiro fakes a lazy grin, and the girl smiles back at him, her temporary concern dismissed with his easy lie. "Sorry to worry you, gorgeous. Need anything?"
"No, I'm perfect," she says, her smile deepening, and she moves closer to him to lay her head on his bare chest, her blond curls spilling across his skin and brushing against his cheek. It feels wrong, so wrong, to lie next to a stranger.
A stranger who isn't Kaoru.
You and I, we are like two ships in the night
Each one bound for other routes and passing out of sight
Now we stand once more on the shore
More alone than ever before
But happiness for us was not our right
S is just as busy as ever when Kaoru and Kojiro arrive, but something has changed.
It doesn't quite feel like possibility, anymore. That flashing, strobing sense of excitement that hummed through his veins, that taste of blood and sweat and fire in the air, that hunger to prove that he's something… Kaoru doesn't feel it anymore.
He came to S for Adam, and now what? It's clear that Adam holds him in such little regard that he'd rather put him in the hospital than skate a real race with him, so what's keeping Kaoru here? What brought him out here, humiliated, with bandages wrapped around his head so that the world can see what a pathetic, predictable skater he is?
"Hey. Hey, Cherry."
A hand touches his shoulder, gentle and firm all at the same time. It sends a bolt of warmth through Kaoru's shoulder the second it makes contact, and he looks up from his wheelchair.
"Stop freakin' out. It's gonna be okay, you know." Kojiro looks down at him, that stupid concern on his face, but this time, Kaoru is somehow happy to see it. "We can leave, if you want. I've got no interest in seeing that blue-haired bitch race."
"Ha." Kaoru laughs dryly, shaking his head. "Not a chance, gorilla. We've got to support the kid. I'm fine, really."
"You're not, but it's okay," Kojiro says. "I'm not leaving your side, anyway. I've got to push this wheelchair, remember?"
"How could I forget when you keep driving it into the curb?" Kaoru rolls his eyes and Kojiro glares at him in mock outrage.
"Oh, sorry, princess. Maybe you'd like to push it yourself? It'd give you a chance to finally build some arm muscle."
"I'm disappointed that you have the audacity to speak that way to an invalid, but I'm hardly surprised. When have you ever managed to show a sense of decorum?" Kaoru scoffs and Kojiro pushes his chair forward so hard that he bangs his elbow against the metal arms, jostling uncomfortably in the seat. "Do that again and I'll have Carla follow you home every night."
"Alright, alright. Right this way, your highness."
As Kojiro begins to wheel him off into the crowd, Kaoru can't help but take note of the little flutter that builds in the bottom of his chest at their banter.
It's always been there, that flicker of something every time Kojiro speaks, but it's always overshadowed by something else, some other emotion that overpowers Kaoru's other senses. This time, though, it's abundantly clear, and Kaoru can't help but find it slightly alarming.
There was a time, once, when he thought Kojiro loved him.
He hadn't been sure - it was high school, after all - but the way Kojiro would look at him, the way he'd stare at him when he thought Kaoru wasn't looking… It was enough to multiply that little flutter tenfold.
And then Adam had come along, and, well… The opportunity was lost. Kojiro never made a move, and Kaoru certainly wasn't going to, not when he was so enamored with Adam that he couldn't seem to see anything else but that stupid, blue-haired bitch.
Is it too late, now, for Kaoru and Kojiro, never one without the other? Are they simply two ships in the night, condemned to pass each other tangentially but always bound for different shores?
"You're thinking too much. I see it in your eyes." Kojiro shakes him from his trance, staring down at him with another of those concerned looks. "Let it go, Kaoru. Please."
"This place, it's…" Kaoru doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how to convey the mess that is his mind at this very moment. "It's suffocating me."
"We can leave, you-"
"No." Kaoru draws in a deep breath, and in a moment of rash decision, he reaches up to where Kojiro's hand rests on his shoulder and places his own on top of it, gently caressing Kojiro's knuckle with the tip of his thumb. "No, I… I have to stay. I can stay."
"I know you can." Kojiro draws in a deep breath, his gaze imploring. "He's nothing, remember? Nothing at all."
How can Kojiro ever know what he's meant to Kaoru? How can he ever understand how much Kaoru appreciates him when all Kaoru can ever seem to do is insult him?
"Thank you, Kojiro." Kaoru's words come out as a mere whisper, and though he hates to use real names at S, he can't bear to call him Joe at a moment like this. "Thank you for all of it."
"Kaoru…" Kojiro bends down, suddenly, so he's eye level with Kaoru, and he's frowning, looking at Kaoru like he's trying to understand just what exactly is going through his mind. "What do you mean?"
"Just take the thanks and leave it, gorilla. How hard is it to accept a compliment?" An insult, but a playful one, and Kojiro hesitates a moment before smiling, slightly. It's not a proper smile, though, the kind that might shatter at any minute, and they don't break each other's gaze for a full minute before Kojiro finally stands.
"You never need to thank me for anything. You know that." His tone is so raw that it takes Kaoru aback and he looks up at him, but Kojiro isn't meeting his gaze. Instead, he looks up at the sky, his eyes full of an emotion Kaoru cannot place.
"Even so. Thank you." A deep breath. Kaoru's hand is still on Kojiro's, and the surrounding skatepark feels a little less sharp, a little less threatening, somehow. "I… I'm glad I have you. I'm lucky to have you."
"Kaoru…" Kojiro says again, and Kaoru can't ignore the way the flutter comes back when Kojiro says his name.
"You don't need to say anything. I know." Kaoru sighs, looking up at the stars above his head, and even in the screaming, chanting crowd of S, there is a moment of clarity, of interrupted silence, and he takes a deep breath. "I know."
I love you.
But comprehend it:
What cannot be,
Cannot be.