Hi, there. Welcome to this little oneshot I wrote for #soratoweek22. The topic was music and I guess you can see that the whole story is shaped by it :) Unfortunately, does not allow for Lyrics in their stories. I understand and accept the rules, but some bits of my story might be lost without it. So I included these symbols ~L ~ in all the places that originally held lyrics of the song "I'll stand by you" by The Pretenders. If you want to read it with lyrics, you'll find this story on AO3.
The title and content was inspired by Sasha Alex Sloan's beautiful song "Dancing with your Ghost" and I used Jake Wesley Rogers' rendition of "I'll stand by you" as a reference for Yamato singing the song in my head :D So feel free to listen to these beautiful songs while reading my story. Might help the mood :D Oh, and one last remark, my mother tongue is German, so if you read anything weird please be forgiving with me.
Dancing with your Ghost
Sora sighed heavily and opened her eyes, which had already become accustomed to the darkness and could vaguely make out the outlines of all the furniture in her bedroom. She had already opened her eyes in annoyance too often in the last few hours, cursing the darkness of the night that wouldn't let her sleep, that made her feel the agonizing loneliness in her heart. She swallowed, silently hoping that this stone in the pit of her stomach would finally dissipate. But it didn't. Instead, it spread, making every breath a struggle as the cold gorged itself through the open window directly into her limbs. Shivering, she pulled the covers over her head and turned to the side to curl up in search of warmth. The stone in her belly turned with her. She felt a burning sensation in her eyes, which had become frighteningly familiar, and which forced its way down her cheeks in silent tears as soon as she blinked. Tears that made her realize again that it wasn't a stone in her stomach, but a hole, an endless, ever-growing hole that she would never be able to fill again. Someday, Sora was sure, this hole would swallow her and right now, she wished nothing more than that the moment had already come. But even after this night, she would have to get up again, drag herself through the day and somehow try to survive. Without him. Without him. Without him. Without him. They were silent thoughts, but they roared in her head, flooding her with a grinding pain that knocked the breath out of her and turned her silent tears into desperate sobs. Frantically trying not to wake anyone, she pressed her face tightly into her pillow and let the wave of pain wash over her. Even though she kept thinking she was going to drown in the pain, the rational part of her always knew that this wave, too, would recede and subside, only to reappear out of nowhere sometime later. At night, however, the intervals were unbearably short and quite often felt like a storm flood.
She didn't know how much time had passed before the valley of the wave hit this time, but as soon as she was able to catch her breath, she flipped the covers aside and straightened up. Her bare feet were reluctant to touch the cold wooden floor and her exhausted body struggled every inch of the way through the dark bedroom, but her mind couldn't stand to be in that room another minute.
Quietly, she crept down the long, cold hallway toward the living room, strenuously ignoring the countless photos on the walls that screamed for her attention. Carefully, she opened the door and let the pleasant warmth of the room envelop her as she fumbled in the dark for the light switch of the reading lamp next to the couch. The light of the lamp bathed the room in a velvety orange and was gentle on her eyes, which had to adjust to the new, sharper contours. She gazed thoughtfully at the ember still glimmering in the fireplace in front of her, before taking a couple of logs from the basket beside it and, in a practiced routine, rekindling the fire. It was not long before the room was filled with the flickering of the flames. A soft smile flitted across her lips as she stared into the flames with fascination. Yamato would have been proud of her.
"I have to admit I was wrong," she said softly, leaning back comfortably in his arms as they both watched the fireplace, sitting on the floor. "Oh yeah?" replied Yamato, and Sora knew he was grinning smugly, even without turning to look at his face. She lashed out with her elbow and playfully poked him in the ribs. "Hey, keep your feet on the ground. But yes, the fireplace was a good idea after all," Sora admitted, albeit reluctantly. She hated being wrong, and this fireplace she had tried to prevent until the very end. But Yamato had finally prevailed. Sora hadn't been able to understand where this sense of romance had suddenly come from in him. She had been more concerned about the additional cleaning effort. In the end, however, she had to admit to herself that Yamato's sparse romantic streak had probably rubbed off on her and that she had simply lacked the imagination for the coziness and comfort that the fire now spread within their own home. Smiling, she turned her head and looked directly into his deep blue eyes, which reflected the flickering of the flames. "Don't tell anyone I admitted that!" she whispered, not giving him a chance to disagree as she kissed him tenderly.
The flames blurred before her eyes, in which tears were gathering again. Hastily wiping them away with the back of her hand before they found their way down her cheeks, she ran across the room to a dark dresser where his sound system stood. Next to it were a few vinyl records and a small basket of CDs, the last analog recordings of music they still had. But they were all special treasures that had an emotional value for Yamato - for her. She purposefully reached for the CD that rested at the very front of the basket and hurriedly opened it so she wouldn't have to look at the cover. The fleeting glimpse of the photo of her and Yamato was enough to make her feel the stone in her stomach again. Her fingers trembled as she removed the CD and placed it in one of the slots of the sound system. It took a few seconds for the first beats of the first song to fill the living room through countless speakers scattered around the room. Yamato had made sure that music in their home would only be listened to in the best quality.
In tense anticipation, she closed her eyes and clutched the CD case tightly to her chest as the piano notes unfolded across their living room. His hands. It was his hands moving across the keys before her eyes, and she knew that what was about to come would fill her with love and pain alike.
"What's this?" asked Sora irritated when Yamato, completely unexpectedly and without any comment, shoved a small package into her hand after dinner. "Unwrap it, and you'll know," he replied without blinking an eye and began clearing the table. Sora thought she saw a hint of embarrassment in his face, but Yamato tried hard to turn his back on her. Curious, she removed the wrapping paper and was astonished when a CD fell into her hands, its cover showing her and Yamato at their wedding. She smiled, deeply touched. It was not one of the professional photos taken by their photographer, who had beautifully posed them, but had just taken the classic staged photos. Instead, she held a picture in her hands that showed her in Yamato's arms at the lantern ceremony. Only now did Sora see that, while she was watching the countless illuminated paper lanterns on the water with fascination, Yamato gazed at her with his eyes full of love. Sora felt tears of affection in her eyes as she gently touched the picture with her fingers. "Who took this beautiful photo?" she asked softly. "Hikari," Yamato replied briefly, still turned away from her and busying himself with the dishes. Now it was obvious that her husband was trying to hide his embarrassment.
Smirking, she walked over to him and put her arms around his waist and her head on his back, still holding the CD in her hands. She felt Yamato pause and sigh with tension. He had so many incredible talents and skills. Giving gifts, however, was not one of them. Sora pressed herself tighter against him and was glad when she felt his hand on hers. "What's on the CD?" she asked, trying to build a bridge for him. "The romantic song suggestions you've been wishing for from me for years," he answered and turned to face her, staying in her embrace. In disbelief, Sora raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?" she asked in surprise. Smiling, Yamato nodded. "But don't you dare tell a soul that I made you a CD filled with love songs!" he replied seriously, accidentally holding up the wooden spoon he was about to rinse off in an admonishing gesture. Amused by the comical situation, Sora laughed heartily and pressed a grateful kiss on his cheek. Ever since her teenage days, she had begged him to make her a CD of romantic songs, just like other boys did for their girlfriends. At first, she just wanted him to be romantic for once, but eventually she got fed up with his constant nagging about her taste in music and her weakness for shallow pop ballads. So she had challenged him to simply make a CD with better songs that had a hint of romance. She had waited years for this, and now Yamato had granted her this wish entirely in his own style, completely unspectacularly during the mundane act of washing the dishes.
Full of anticipation, she loosened her embrace to put the CD into Yamato's sound system, which stood on a small sideboard in the living area of the room. With some delay, the first measures began to resonate, and Sora could hardly wait to hear which songs Yamato had chosen. Expectantly, she looked at him and saw that he was glancing down at the floor sheepishly, as soft piano notes resounded through her apartment, which she had very fond memories of. She knew exactly what was about to follow in the next measure and felt the same goosebumps on her body that had struck her when Yamato had sung the song for her at their wedding with his band. Now his voice filled their apartment in all its emotional richness.
Overcome by a surge of love, Sora ran to her husband, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the center of the room to lean into him and dance in gentle movements to his song. She felt Yamato ease into her arms and hug her tighter as his voice still filled the room.
~L~
With a gentle smile on her lips, she savored each word he sang and nestled her face against her hand that rested on her shoulder, her arms wrapped around herself to imitate his embrace. Carefully, carried by his singing and his piano playing, she moved to the rhythm of the music and closed her eyes. There he was. His hands wrapped softly around her hips, his head rested on hers, and she felt his warmth. With his invaluable smile, he dispelled the coldness from her limbs and filled the black hole in her heart entirely with his love.
~L~
She wished for it to never end. She never wanted to open her eyes again. Instead, she wanted to immerse herself in his song forever. She wanted to dissolve into his embrace, to feel his warmth, to lose herself in his deep blue eyes that looked at her deeply and lovingly, to hear his voice that, like no other, expressed emotions and carried her off into other worlds. But his voice subsided, the last note of the piano faded away and the icy silence seized her before she could open her eyes to see the empty room in front of her. The fire, unaffected by the cold that wrapped her, continued to flicker, and cast a shadow on the area of the floor where they had always sat together.
She would not let herself cry again but ran to the sound system and pressed the Repeat button. She wanted to listen to him all night. She wanted to feel him. To be in his arms. His voice filled the room again and she imagined that the words he sang were true. That he was always with her. That in reality she was not alone. That their love outlasted his death.
"A long time ago I vowed not to write love songs, and you all know that there is no romantic bone in me," Yamato confessed to their family and friends, earning approving laughter. He had to take a deep breath to say the next words aloud, but a glimpse in her direction encouraged him, "But if there's a good excuse in this world for tossing those principles overboard for one night, it's that woman right there. That woman in the most beautiful of kimonos, the woman I was fortunate enough to marry today." Nervous, as he had been at none of the concerts they used to perform regularly, he walked over to his bandmate Kazue and took over from him at the piano, while their audience was still reveling in his uncharacteristically romantic expression with a collective sigh. "Sora, the only love song I've ever written, and the last one you'll ever hear from me," he said with a smirk, and the sighing of the party turned back into laughter. "But as we have pledged to each other today, for better or for worse. And I am certain of every word I am about to sing," he continued and was about to play the first few measures on the keys under his fingers when he suddenly paused and looked at his guests sternly, "Oh, by the way, no photos, and definitely no videos. I don't want any evidence of this." He saw that Sora was laughing and everyone present demonstratively pulled out their smartphones to boycott his request. His fingers nevertheless found their way to the keys and his voice gave her the most beautiful gift of the evening, promising her to always be there for her, to let nobody hurt her, to never desert her.
~L~
As much as Sora wanted to believe his words - that he was with her, would always be there for her - the pain in her heart was an excruciating reminder of the hole he had actually ripped into her life. She wanted to scream, wanted to call him a liar, wanted to be angry with him, but what she wanted even more was for her love for him to finally wipe away the pain. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to dance with him every night, here by the fireplace. Even if it meant going through that pain over and over again each and every night. She would dance with the memory of him until there was nothing but love.
His voice was all around the room, all around her, and suddenly he was pulling her back into his strong arms, moving with her to the rhythm of the song. She pressed herself against him and felt the warmth of his hands on her back, heard his heartbeat pulsing. He was there. He was always there. He was just harder to see than most.
"Mommy?" someone suddenly blared into Yamato's vocals, and his hands, his warmth, his heartbeat dissolved into the cold air. Startled, Sora turned to the door of the living room and caught sight of her daughter Hoshiko in the doorway, who was rubbing her eyes wearily while clutching her stuffed bunny tightly in her other hand. "Is it morning already?" she asked sleepily as she headed toward her mother. Sora smiled tenderly and took her into her arms. "No, my darling. I couldn't sleep and I wanted to listen to some music," she explained to her softly, gently stroking her blond hair, which, just like her deep blue eyes, she had inherited from her father. There were moments when Sora would find it difficult to endure this resemblance, and when it hurt to no end, but most of the time, she was overcome with a deep gratitude that a part of Yamato was indeed always with her, that he had made her the greatest gift of all. Tears crept back into her eyes as she kissed Hoshiko's forehead and hugged her tightly.
"Is this daddy?" murmured Hoshiko softly against Sora's ears, and only now did she realize that Yamato's song was still echoing through the room. "Yes, your daddy wrote that song many years ago and sang it for me at our wedding," she explained to her six-year-old girl, feeling her little arms clasp more tightly around her neck before she suddenly leaned back to look up into her mother's eyes questioningly. "Like the songs he made for us?" Sora smiled and nodded, "Exactly like that."
Sora put her keys in the little bowl next to the front door, as she did every day when she got home, and exhaustedly took off her shoes, not without noticing that the entire hallway was littered with toys. Annoyed, she sighed and began to pick up one toy after another from the floor. Yamato's tolerance level for chaos was just so much higher than hers. But she hated coming home after a hard day's work and stumbling over her children's toys while he had been home all day. However, it was not worth arguing with him. He would give a lecture every time about how little time he had with his kids because of his work, and during the weeks he was home, he didn't want to be so petty about order. She felt the anger rising inside her when she suddenly heard the soft sounds of a guitar. Irritated, she ran to the living room and peeked through the gap of the open door.
There he sat with Hoshiko on his lap, who was watching his hands in awe as they glided across the strings of the acoustic guitar, he held in front of him and Hoshiko. In front of them was their son Haru's baby shell, in which he was babbling softly to himself and looking at Yamato in fascination as he sang silently. It was a delicate melody that sounded somewhat like a lullaby. Sora was unable to understand the lyrics from afar, but she could see in Yamato's face that it was a tribute to his children. His look was full of love and tenderness. And her anger at the untidy toys evaporated. Instead, she felt a deep gratitude inside her for her husband, for her children, for all they had and were allowed to be. As always, his music possessed a magical power that washed away all the tension within her. She was so glad that he had never really given up on it, even though he had decided with a heavy heart not to pursue a career in music. She still remembered his disappointment, his sadness, and all the anger he had carried with him during those first years of university, without him ever realizing the reason behind it. It took her urgent words of encouragement for him to pick up his instruments again before he realized that he could not live without music, and that he did not have to. Fortunately, his bandmates felt the same way, meaning that they still met regularly to simply enjoy making music together.
"Hey, you three goofballs!", Sora finally greeted her husband and her two children with an affectionate smile and gave them all a kiss on the forehead. "What are you up to?" she asked, sitting down next to Yamato on the sofa, well aware of what they all had just been up to. "I teach our children music theory," Yamato explained with conviction, earning a hearty laugh. "Do you think a 10-month-old baby and a 3-year-old are ready for music theory?" responded Sora with amusement, tenderly brushing one of her husband's blond strands from his face. "Better early than never," Yamato replied jokingly, as Hoshiko curiously played with the strings of his guitar. "Well, I actually believe that you just tossed your principles overboard again and broke your own promise!" said Sora with a smug undertone and could promptly see the embarrassment in his eyes. "Certainly not!" he replied in consternation, averting his eyes from her. Sora laughed again, "Oh yes you did! Mr. Supercool, Yamato Ishida, composed another love song!" She knew she had hit the mark when she saw the sheepish blush on his cheeks. She also knew that he hated when people got him upset and when his cool facade crumbled. Compassionately, she leaned in and put an arm around his neck. "Guess what, Mr. Supercool?" she whispered into his ear and saw by the look on his face that she had his attention. "It would mean the world to me if you tossed your principles overboard once more and recorded that song for the two of them," she said, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Yamato smiled. "I guess Mr. Supercool can arrange for that," he affirmed, returning her kiss.
"Me too!" someone suddenly shouted at them. Surprised, they looked down and saw Hoshiko, who had let go of the guitar strings and was now demanding her kiss from daddy and mommy. "Oh my star child, you'll get as many kisses as you want!", laughing, Yamato pressed a kiss on his daughter's cheek, knowing that this period in which she demanded his kisses would surely be over sooner than he liked.
Sora was grateful to have asked him back then to record the songs he had written for Hoshiko and Haru. This way, they would forever have proof of all the love Yamato had felt for his two children. He had also packed a selection of what he considered to be the best songs in music history onto the CD for the two of them, not knowing that these songs would eventually have to explain to them what kind of person he was, because he would no longer be able to tell them himself.
She still remembered the long monologues he had delivered for her, explaining each song and why it belonged on the particular CD for Haru, Hoshiko or her. Each of the monologues had amused her because only music could cause him to ramble on like that. But she had only listened with half an ear, certain that he would later explain his reasons to his children himself. Now she bitterly regretted not having listened more closely, not having paid more attention, not having absorbed and forever stored every single word he had ever uttered to her. The accident had only happened a few weeks ago, but she was so terrified of her memories of him eventually fading that the thought brought relentless tears to her eyes.
"Mommy?" she heard Hoshiko say, and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yes, dear?" she replied, hoping her forced smile would not betray her. But Hoshiko's sad look made her suppress her own feelings abruptly. The little girl sighed heavily. "Sometimes it hurts to hear daddy sing," she murmured softly, and the single tear that stole its way down her rosy cheek broke Sora's heart more than her own pain ever would.
Full of compassion, she wrapped her daughter tightly into her arms and was not able to hold back her own tears any longer. "I know my darling, I know. It hurts me too to hear daddy's voice," she replied, kissing Hoshiko's hair again and again to pour all the love she had into her, to ease her pain that could not be eased. No child should lose their parents at that age. After all, they were just growing to know feelings and now had to deal with the worst of them all. Sora barely knew how to deal with her pain herself, how should Haru and Hoshiko know. Haru was still so little that he didn't even comprehend what was happening to him. A wave of despair washed over her, causing her to break into sobs.
~L~
Yamato's words, which he had written for her so many years ago, suddenly rang through to her ears again, followed by a surge of comfort that came out of nowhere. His encouraging smile, his warming hands, his protective presence. He was there. He was always there. And she found the courage to look into her daughter's eyes.
"Hoshiko-chan, do you know what I think of sometimes when it hurts to remember daddy again?" Her daughter looked at her cluelessly, her eyes watering. "I think of the pain as a friend, a friend that makes us realize how much we love daddy and how much we miss him. She will help us remember all the beautiful moments with daddy and keep the memories of him very close to our hearts. And when our friend the pain has done her job, she will eventually leave and only visit occasionally." The thought gave her a strange inner peace and made the pain seem less threatening. She managed to breathe again and saw a slight smile on Hoshiko's lips. "You mean I should invite the pain like a friend?" she asked in her childlike innocence, and Sora laughed softly. "Exactly! A friend who has daddy in her baggage," she replied, wrapping Hoshiko tightly in her arms again.
"I'll never desert you."
Sora buried her face in Hoshiko's soft hair and took a deep breath. I know you're with us, Yamato. You're just harder to see than most. But you are with us.
A/N: This is it. I admit, I felt like Yamato had really died after I finished writing it, so I'm sorry if this story made you sad as well, but I needed to get it out of my system :D I'd be very happy if you left a comment for me :)
