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未成年 ([personal profile] miseinen) wrote on September 24th, 2009 at 06:06 pm
“To a higher place and down.”



To them, words are overrated even in a world that will thrive if not for the push of the mouth. A small glimmer in their eyes or a wave of their hands, the strum of a guitar and the tunes written on paper can suffice for what they had to say. Artists, that’s what they are; never the ones to stick with a mundane method of doing things around.

But despite of years creating beautiful pieces in the form of songs, Aoi still didn’t know where artistry ended or graceful apathy began. Sometimes he asked himself if he was the artist he claims himself to be because no matter what he did, he could never get to the state of artistry Uruha was constantly in, his works could never compare to the things Uruha had done. There was always a certain elegance despite the seemingly boorish melodies that Uruha comes up with or the seemingly careless answers for questions thrown at him. Aoi always felt guilty when thinking of taking Uruha’s actions as they are because deep inside, he knows there’s more to him than meets the eye. Unfortunately for him, Uruha was never the type to explain himself or say anything more than what’s required of him. His character and behavior always needed reading between the lines; as a fellow guitarist Aoi was usually able to comprehend those, but he could only comprehend so much even if he tries.

Still, it doesn’t lead to frustration or even more indifference in his part. In fact, Aoi wishes to completely understand what Uruha was about and somehow, hopefully, make enough impact to him to get him to open up, make enough impact to Uruha as Uruha had done to him.

In simpler words, he just wanted to be a part of Uruha’s life.

Anybody may argue that he is already a part of Uruha’s life, having known him for years and even getting the chance to live with him, and surely – with Ruki’s guarantee, even – he will be a part of his life for longer years to come. And there was always a certain bond between those who express themselves with the same instrument and the same intents; sometimes there are things that only they can hear and feel. That in itself was special and anybody may argue that there’s no reason for Aoi to think that there’s not a place in Uruha’s heart for him.

What Aoi wants though is to transcend just being band mates, transcend just being fellow guitarists, transcend just being friends. Transcend anything that would not mean being able to be a part of Uruha.

And Aoi couldn’t know whether to laugh at himself or not for thinking he could ever have a shot with him – he didn’t know what passes through Uruha’s mind, much less what passes through his heart. Even so, silently, in his own way, Aoi tries to scale the walls that Uruha appears to have built around himself, though Aoi is only human and tires every once in a while. It’s much easier to look from afar and imagine what could’ve been on the other side then move on; then again, quitting is a word that Aoi didn’t use anymore after his short stay in high school.

Perhaps quite opposite to Uruha, Aoi knew to let his thoughts be known though only in subtlety. Not enough to be picked up by anybody else, but doing those anyway just so he could say to himself that he already did something. The aura of longing feeling in a song he made and the quiet subordination to Uruha are only few of the small yet numerous hints he’s been dropping. The minuteness of the things he does is similar to Uruha’s almost-unresponsiveness, but of course Aoi knew that his actions weren’t done just because. And there were times that he felt that Uruha knew; he swears he could catch a certain look from Uruha that whispered, ‘I know.’

It still stays that he would never know unless he asks, but the barriers of silence are intimidating even for a grown man such as himself. He had insecurities and weaknesses as much as he hated to admit, and to him Uruha was both insecurity and refuge, weakness and strength. Probably just like most people, he waited until his infinitesimal efforts brought fruit or when a twist of fate happens. After all, good things come to those who wait.

Although today, the strings of patience and uncertainty snapped with the taste of a beer bottle or five. It was both a blessing and curse that he and Uruha were the only supposed drinkers in the band and that he can’t control himself in the influence of alcohol… at least, not as eloquently as Uruha handled himself even if he had more to drink. He scrunched his nose for comparing himself once again with the other man but it wasn’t so much as to wanting to be like Uruha, rather, he only wanted what was behind being Uruha.

“I don’t get you.”

Uruha slightly quirked his brow – the first actual reaction of the evening, which mostly consisted of the younger spacing out and occasionally watching his companion prove that he wasn’t a lightweight – and Aoi took another swig from his mug. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips too but Aoi couldn’t be sure, not when the bar was a little too dark for his alcohol-incurred blurry vision and his mind swarmed with alcohol-incurred emotions.

“You rarely talk about yourself or why you do the things you do… it’s strange.” His fingers lingered on the handle.

Uruha downed his bottle too. “Do I have to explain myself every time I do stuff?”

“Well yeah… but people like talking about themselves! Even about things that other people don’t give a shit about!”

A laugh. “I’m not as narcissistic as you, you know.”

“Fuck you, I’m not narcissistic!” With his free hand, Aoi shoved Uruha in the arm with more force than he normally would’ve but ended up almost plummeting to the other’s chest face first. Thankfully Uruha managed to catch him by the shoulders. “Seriously man, you’re weird. Nobody ever gets what goes on in that head of yours!”

Another laugh and Aoi could already take in the overpowering smell of beer in Uruha’s breath. He scrunched his nose again but continued anyway, “Sometimes I think you’re taking that artsy shit far too seriously or just shutting yourself off from everyone.”

There was a silence despite the continuous chattering and uproarious laughter of the group behind them, the loud, obnoxious foreign songs that played on. Uruha continued to hold Aoi on the shoulders, eyes with a certain stillness as he looked at the other’s slumping form. Aoi just took his beer and drank on it from that position.

“But you know what?” He carried on, placing his mug back on the table and let his arms fall beside him, “I’ll be right here, trying to figure out the inner workings of that head of yours. But sometimes I think it’d be better if I stared you down until you crack and tell me what you’re really thinking!”

This time the both of them laughed, voices challenging the roaring noise that assaulted their ears. Uruha let go of the other man to clutch on the edge of the table and Aoi sagged forward on the younger’s shoulder, laughing a little close to his ear but Uruha didn’t seem to mind.

Even as the laughter subsided Aoi stayed propped onto Uruha’s shoulder. He may not clearly remember it in the morning – or maybe he will; the smell of liquor reminding him of the younger’s cologne – but right at this moment he just wanted to savor the feeling of being this close with Uruha. Aoi closed his eyes and sighed. Bit by bit he wrapped his limp and slightly shaking arms around Uruha’s waist but to his subconscious surprise, no pair of hands stopped him from doing so.

“Thank you.”

Aoi’s tired eyes shot open and he turned his head a little. A small, warm smile was already pressed against his cheek as Uruha embraced him back.
 
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