sakura_4an

Kame shifted on the leather couch and cast an uneasy glance towards the closed door at the end of the hallway. Ryo had gone inside his room since he came back. It didn’t feel right to barge in, neither did it feel right to just sit outside wondering what was happening beyond that closed door. Finally Kame dialed Shingo’s number on his cell.

“Kamenashi, did something happen?”

“A reporter asked some unpleasant questions and Ryo shut himself inside his room. I…what am I supposed to do?”

There was a short pause, before he thought he heard a sigh of resignation.

“Let him be, Kame. You can’t save him. Nobody can.” Something in that tone brought a tenor of pain to Kame’s heart because he thought it sounded like Shingo’s admission of his inadequacy and his failing that Ryo was this way. And because he thought so, he didn’t say anything. He simply thanked Shingo and he stood up from the couch, reaching for his bag and his gaze once again lingered at the closed door, dark, cold and forbidding. And he knew that if he was smart, he would leave it at that, he would leave the knob of the door untouched, he would leave the threshold of that room uncrossed. He would simply believe Nishikido Ryo’s deliberate nonchalance, take it at face value but those dark grieving eyes were like a wire corralled at his heart, and every time he tried to walk away, it tugged. Even when Kame had turned away from the door and a practical little voice was telling him to get the hell away from here because he wanted nothing to do with the person who laid on the other side of the door with his dormant pain and regret all locked away in the darkness.

Because he had once been that person and he had no wish to revisit that pain. But because he had once been that person, he couldn’t find it in himself to walk away.

~*~

Ryo stared at the stark white of his ceiling. The memories had hurtled back and he didn’t know how to make them go away. He wasn’t even sure whether he wanted them to, they were somewhat like his old apartment, familiar and therefore safe. Sometimes he wondered whether he had willingly kept himself imprisoned by all the worn and blurred memories, caged by all that guilt and pain, because he was afraid to venture out, afraid to get hurt again. Once he had been sure he could live through life like that, withdrawn into a safe cocoon and keeping everyone who cared at bay. Once he had told himself his music was all the reason he needed for being. Because this was what Uchi had dreamt of while he was still alive and music had been an easy way to self-medicate himself. Once, it had been enough.

“Nishikido-san? Ryo? Can I come in?” Kame rapped sharply with his knuckles and as expected, there was no reply, just an ominous silence resonating in the empty apartment with all its cold minimalist furniture.  Finally that trepidation and uncertainty gave way to frustration and anger and Kame simply tried the knob. Surprisingly the door opened and whatever he wanted to say died in a soft hushed whisper on his lips when he saw Ryo, face obscured by all that black fringe, and body propped up against the pillows. He looked so alarmingly small in that four poster king size bed with the blanket strewn and tangled around his legs, that the anger inside Kame morphed into something else. But he didn’t give himself the time to unravel that tangle of emotions inside him. All the relief mixed with an undertone of helplessness and yet so much more.

He simply stood there, waiting for Ryo to acknowledge his presence, to shoot him an intimidating glare and tell him in no specific terms that he was unwelcome. But there was none of that, just a brief look before he dismissed him, and instead he turned over on his side, reaching for a bottle of pills that was uncapped. And at that sight, something inside Kame lurched in kind, and he strode over, wringing the bottle of pills out of Ryo’s grasp. The red-colored pills scattered onto the beige carpet, like specks of dried blood. And part of him was amazed at how easy it was, how little resilience Ryo put up.

“Kame, give me the pills. It’s none of your business okay? Go home.” Ryo pressed his hand to his forehead. When Kame simply stood there with the bottle behind his back, Ryo finally lifted his head.  “Go home Kame.”

Kame clenched the bottle tighter in his hand, and looking down at Ryo’s face, he wondered how someone so terrifying lost could be so pretty. And how someone so known for spilling his emotions into words and verses could allow himself to get so lost and so out-of-reach in the first place.

“What are you doing? Downing sleeping pills because you can’t sleep? I’m not giving you those pills Ryo. They’re not the remedy you want. Tomorrow, you’re going to wake up, still alive, still awake, and still in pain.” There was a flicker of surprise across Ryo’s face, and Kame bet no one had ever denied him the means to forget his pain because he probably had a sad pity story to substantiate all of that self-indulgent sorrow. But someone had to tell him no, someone had to say the bitter truth that everyone thought and no one dared to say, before he fell over that precarious edge with nothing to break and dull the pain of the fall.

“Fuck, Kame why are you here? Why the hell do you even care?” Ryo bolstered himself up from the pillows and he was staring right back at Kame, the anger inside him roused by desperation. And Kame didn’t answer, mainly because he couldn’t find the words to make it sound right, to make it sound acceptable. When Ryo got no answer, he lowered his head, pressing it against that dark airless void between his chest and his knees, his shoulders caved in. His arms were wrapped around his knees, as though he was going to splinter apart if he didn’t. And suddenly, Kame heard those resounding sobs in all their heartbreaking clarity, and he felt simultaneously shocked and terrified at how fast Ryo was taken apart. Just like that. Without thinking, Kame enfolded Ryo in his arms, his head cradled against his abdomen and he could feel the soft shuddering sobs reverberating against his stomach and the dampness seeping into the cotton of his shirt. Some part of him felt like a detached observer, even when he hesitantly raised his hand and rested it against Ryo’s hair, stroking it. Slowly he became empty, hollowed out and the sobs ebbed in volume. Then Ryo raised his head and looked at him out of those red-rimmed eyes as though he was seeing through him and some part of him felt like he was being studied and turned inside out. The feeling of being taken apart was more than enough to make him back away but Ryo captured one of his hands in his, just barely holding onto his fingers.

And that mere pressure of his hand on his was enough to make Kame sit on the edge of the bed, cloaked in the illusory safety of the darkness and he knew what was going to happen. But still he was surprised, when Ryo’s lips met his. It was so different from what he expected and this soft tenderness was so much more fatal than his usual brusque callousness. Just his lips flushed against his, and their knees touching. He knew this was probably his chance to pull away, that Ryo was handing the decision into his hands. And maybe Ryo wanted him to make the decision, because he was supposedly the sensible one with the voice of reason. But the fact that he could taste fear on Ryo’s lips brought on an unhealthy bloom of pleasure inside him and he opened his mouth just a little. And for three long seconds, Ryo did not respond. Then his hand curved around Kame’s nape, jerking his body forward and their teeth banged against each other. Ryo slanted his mouth above his, a fistful of his hair in his hand pulling his head back, making Kame offer his mouth to him. There was nothing gentle about this kiss, and in all his confusion, somehow Kame recognised his own hunger in Ryo's, and he knew he had to stop. Because the only thing on Ryo's mind was to forget his own pain and because he didn't want it to happen this way, he had to stop even though he wanted nothing more than to straddle Ryo and fuck him until he was raw and naked with all of his bleeding wounds exposed.

Abruptly, he turned his face sideways, Ryo’s lips still resting on his cheek.  “Ryo I'm not the remedy you’re looking for. I'm not…your temporary diversion.” He paused for a moment, knowing that the bereft dazed look on Ryo’s face mirrored his own hidden emotions and he dared not look.  “And most of all, I’m not Uchi Hiroki…”