1/1Author: xxshamisen Genre:
Language, shortness, vaguenessPairing:
Everything written here came from my imagination. Plus I don't own any of the boys
though I wish I did xD
.Summary: Fragments of love overflow as I chase your voice.Comments:
This time prompted by Plastic Tree's Harusaki Sentimental
. I think I'm gonna call this series Season's Call Anthology
because HYDE's awesome like that. And of course what's next is fall/autumn, but I can't seem to find any songs with fall/autumn in its title. Halp?
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
As the line went dead, Aoi sighed, face forlorn as he stared at the phone clutched in his hands. He has always hated long distance calls – they were choppy, hard to understand, and unreliable. But what he hated more is the fact that he needed to make that long distance call because he couldn’t be with the person on the other line. It reminded him even more that he couldn’t be with Uruha.
The soft and relaxing hum of the piano at least put the older guitarist at ease. Whenever he got cut off with his daily conversation with Uruha he always got angry and irritable, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to call back right away because if the reception was bad at the moment, it would be bad all throughout. He propped an elbow on the top of the table and rested his cheek on his palms, setting the phone down beside his coffee. No use calling any moment now, no use waiting for a call.
Asking himself why he was here would be hypocritical. He knew perfectly why he was here at the other side of the world and not in Uruha’s gentle arms anymore; for more promotion, in which he would once more be immersed in the lights, the glamour, and the fans, bullshitting his way so that more and more people would buy their material. Ah, the art of bullshitting – though Aoi had been shy for the most part, he could always find (or sometimes deliberately lose) the right words to write or say to entice or gain the sympathy of many people. The way he seemed uninterested in answering interview questions, the half-hearted answers, and the deep, heart-wrenching confessions? All of that was his art. Lying was just part of the game, and it wasn’t like he’s hurting anybody anyway.
Even though his purpose here is to propagate more bullshit that he doesn’t even mean and would rather rush to the airport, board a plane and kiss the grounds of his homeland at this very moment, he can’t. This was a step to his dream – their dreams – and somehow, he’d taught himself how not to hate this kind of work as much as he hated it way back. In fact he doesn’t even hate doing it now. But he did hate the long distance calls.
Think happy thoughts, he advised himself, bringing his coffee cup to his now piercing-less lips. Of course those thoughts only lie with Uruha, and that just brings a small, contemplative smile on his face. Though the view from outside the glass wall consisted only of the falling cherry blossoms, pink against the asphalt, and the few people coming and going, what was well burned into his mind was the image of Uruha, running around in circles as if a bird outside its cage, living the childlikeness that he could only show when Aoi was there. Needless to say there is this sense of security and trust when Uruha did that in front of Aoi. Reason was, the blond had always been guarded, never really showing his true colors, not to Aoi when they started out, not to Kai when he had always been the one ready to listening to anything at all, not to Ruki and Reita when he’s known them for a really long time. A product of love, perhaps? Aoi had to chuckle slightly at that; if Uruha would hear his thoughts and see what he sees in his eyes, he would’ve been punched in the shoulder and told how much of a sap he is. And so what, he would retort, since he’s always been a sap anyway.
The coffee sliding down his throat brought back the dull colors of reality in his eyes, pushing his daydreams of him and Uruha under a cherry blossom tree on a day just like this, fingers intertwined, at the sides of his mind. His gaze shifted to the phone haphazardly lying on the table, and let out another sigh, though smaller this time. Holding hands while having leisure walks on the park simply wasn’t possible anymore with the hectic schedules, piles of work, and of course, physical distance. It doesn’t help that Uruha’s not the talkative one either; at this rate the distance would not bound by physical means only. Unfortunately, the single link that they have now was that of an invisible thread – radio signals or whatever they’re called.
A brief but strong breeze passed, and the frail branches of the cherry blossom tree started to swing while Aoi’s phone rung. There was no need for him to see the small, delicate petals scatter into the wind, to the ground, and to other directions to remind him of Uruha anymore.