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andrew_in_dragPairings: Kyo x Toshiya, Die x Toshiya
Rating: mature
Warnings: sex, rock 'n roll, mental illness theme
Previously: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12
13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19
Notes: the companion piece to 'Fifteen Years', covering Kyo's side of the story. Though they go together, they follow the same timeline, so you won't have to have read 'Fifteen Years' for this to make sense.
Synopsis: If I blurred my eyes, I could mistake the mountain scenery stretching out in front of me as the future. Upwards there were blue skies and, far out into the distance, my short-sightedness caused tree to blur into building and ocean into land; mountain into sky; earth into heaven.
CHAPTER TWENTY:
“So this is the place, is it?”
I ran my hand thoughtfully over my shaven head, taking strength from the resistance of the soft, short hair there as I gazed up at the old building in front of me. The brickwork was crumbling and the doors were almost battered off their hinges; it had such a look of long-time neglect that it made me a little sad.
“This is it,” Die said proudly. His arm was looped around Toshiya’s waist, and as I watched our bassist laid his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is where we first met, all those years ago.”
“Isn’t it funny?” Toshiya said, an endearing little croak to his voice, “Back then we had no idea how it would all turn out. I’d been following Dir en grey for months, but I never dared to think…” He sighed, letting his words tail off. “It’s just so strange. Oh, I wish they weren’t tearing the place down.”
The sky overhead was very, very blue, and I squinted up at it instead of looking at the building. It was just an abandoned live house in Nagano, much like any other; it wasn’t very important if you took away the fact that they had apparently met there. I remembered that night, myself. The sight of Toshiya up on the stage had made me feel as if all the blood had suddenly rushed back into my veins.
But it might have been hindsight talking. This was such a small, humble little town, not entirely worthy of being the fabled birthplace of our bassist. Down the street was a bar; the only bar that was open on Sundays. That was where we had met, even earlier. Before Die was even a thought.
A plane droned overhead; once it passed, there was silence in my ears and in my head.
The sun was so bright.
“I’m going to explore.”
Toshiya’s little village had cobbled stone streets that were problematic to walk over in my expensive boots, so I kicked them off and proceeded in my socks. It was late summer – perhaps more like early autumn, although the weather was still warm – and the streets were dry and spread thinly with wide, flat leaves in crayon colours; lipstick red and egg yolk yellow. Typically for such a sleepy village, there didn’t seem to be anybody about, so I walked in perfect peace and solitude, and as I took in the old-fashioned looking buildings and the overgrown trees I thought that, yes: I could quite easily imagine that teenage Toshiya I had once known running up and down these paths, climbing these trees, scampering to their tops as nimble as a monkey. Behind the thin row of shops and houses, roads led steeply uphill, and the mountains rose almost as a dreamy afterthought, as high as I could see. Their tops nestled amongst the clouds, and I thought how wonderful and peaceful it would be to sit swaying on one of those summits, head high in the thin air, nothing around me but sky.
On a whim I veered off and began to follow one of those roads. I was wearing a coat more suitable for autumn in Osaka – a life that I led mostly inside, mindful of being recognised – and I shucked it off and left it by the roadside. I got tired of the way the beaten path meandered so gently around the curves of the incline, lessening the gradient, so on the next bend I simply kept going, scrambling through grass and scrub and bushes, clinging to the sturdy trunks of small trees to keep me upright. Rocks were scattered on the way uphill, so warmed by the sun they almost burned my hands. I passed small birds and earth-coloured lizards that barely responded to my presence, so used were they to their own peaceful lives.
My socks were slipping, so I took them off. I thought of ancient times, when people used to worship the mountains. I closed my eyes and wiped sweat from my hairline and imagined myself as one of those priests of old, a shaman or yamabushi, tapping into the tunes of the rise and fall of nature itself. I shed my T-shirt and left it on a tree branch, thinking I would maybe find it later. The air was so sweet and clear that it made me lightheaded, and I found that for every three feet I climbed, I slid down one. It seemed to be getting steeper; the earth was more loose and crumbly underfoot. The passage upward was getting exhausting, but I was determined. Less hardy trees gave way and I found myself clinging to thin poles of bamboo, admiring how they shot upwards; so thin but so hardy. Their strength was so deceptive. Every time I touched them I almost expected them to crumble, but it seemed they never would.
Hot, I sat down to rest upon a peculiarly jutting rock. I checked my watch and read that it was a quarter past five in the evening, the fourteenth of September 2012. It was a good year, and I smiled. 2012 was the year of the dragon: my year. I was thirty-six years old; a number that seemed huge to me.
“Kyo! Oi, Kyo!”
And what to make of the fact that Toshiya was now thirty-five? In my head he was forever and always that boy of eighteen. I smiled down at him as his long limbs made short work of the climb, and he scrambled up to join me just as agile as a mountain goat. He was hardly even breathing heavily, but sweat glistened on his brow, and he picked up the hem of his t-shirt to wipe it off.
“How’d you find me?” I asked interestedly, and he laughed.
“Are you kidding? I said I’d go look for you and I found you’d left a trail of clothes for me to follow.”
“Die doesn’t—?”
“Die doesn’t mind,” Toshiya said firmly. “He knows our history. He trusts me.” He paused. “Trusts you, too.”
“Even me,” I repeated vaguely.
“Yes, even you. He knows you’d do nothing in the world to jeopardise my happiness.” He turned his face away, but I caught the smile on his lips, “Not after you spend so long arranging it for me.”
“You never know,” I said drily, “I can be so odd like that.”
Toshiya settled himself on the rock next to me and threw an arm about my shoulders, pulling me close to him. I closed my eyes and smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder happily: there was no reason to pretend that I wasn’t still in love with him.
“I suppose I wouldn’t,” I agreed at last, keeping my voice light. “But…”
He looked at me, waiting patiently.
“It’s always a struggle,” I continued at last, taking in the view of the mountain and village below. “I think it makes me a better person, or a better lyricist, at least. Unrequited love. Day in, day out. Forced exposure to my amour, my raison d’etre, my very heart’s desire; so close and yet so far—”
I gave a muffled squawk as he shoved me off the rock, and we both broke out into laughter.
"You’re terrible,” he said fondly, offering a hand to help me back up, and even after I was seated again he kept hold of my fingers, as if he had forgotten they were all there tangled up between his own.
“So you really met there,” I mused after a few moments of comfortable silence, “In that grotty little live house.”
“It wasn’t grotty then!” he protested. “It was…”
“It was grotty. I remember it too. I remember that night. Seeing you on stage; I definitely remember that. With your stupid band. D+L.”
“It wasn’t grotty,” he argued stubbornly, “Or even if it was, it was still…wherever you’re performing, it’s always divine. You can’t take away from that. Anywhere you go where there’s a crowd that loves you, it’s just…it makes it perfect. It’s magic.”
“So sentimental, Toshiya.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“I don’t know if you remember,” I said finally, “But we met around here, too. Just down the road from the live house, actually. In—”
“I remember,” he said softly, smiling at me, and I nodded.
“You know,” I said uneasily, “I wasn’t even Kyo until you asked me what my name was.”
“No?”
“I went by Yoma or Hotoma.” I paused. “Then you asked me, and I knew straight away. It was like it was foreordained, or something.”
“Now who’s being sentimental?” he teased, and I smiled ruefully.
“It’s nothing to be sentimental about; all my troubles started when I became Kyo. Back then I was crazy enough to fall in love. Stupid enough to go mad.”
He squeezed my hand gently.
“And now?”
“Now?” I leant back, thinking about it. Now?
If I blurred my eyes, I could mistake the mountain scenery stretching out in front of me as the future. Upwards there were blue skies and, far out into the distance, my short-sightedness caused tree to blur into building and ocean into land; mountain into sky; earth into heaven. I stared.
“Now,” I repeated thoughtfully.
“Well, you know,” Toshiya prompted, misunderstanding my pensive silence, “How are you?”
“How am I. You know, nobody really asks me that very much.”
He shifted, getting comfortable on the rock.
“I think they’re afraid that I’ll start telling them everything that’s wrong; like one question will tip me over and make me mad again.”
He looked at me. “But you are alright,” he pressed.
He probably didn’t know why I smiled so widely.
“Toshiya, I’m fine.”
In time, the two of us pulled ourselves away from the rock and continued the climb. Toshiya texted something to Die, telling him we’d be late, and received a reply that curved his lips into a soppy smile. We mostly climbed in silence, occasionally admiring the view or throwing about an odd comment. Toshiya seemed satisfied to be quiet, for once, so I concentrated on the burn of my muscles and the thoughts in my head; the clear, uncomplicated view ahead of me.
I was fine. I wasn’t the happiest person in the world, but I never could have been that anyway. I had a love that might not have been returned but went beyond something as short-lived and unstable as sexuality; I had friends and the knowledge that I had touched both sides of the aching void that might exist, for all I know, within every single living human: on one edge the beautiful and on the other edge the terrible. I had been further inside my own psyche than anyone else would ever dare to go, and I had survived. I had drowned and lived; strangled and lived; fucked and loved and climbed a mountain.
Toshiya and I supported each other with shaking arms at the summit and stared out at the other peaks surrounding us, many rising much higher, but I was happy to be where I was. I picked out the flattest surface I could find and lay down on my back. I started up at the sky until the blueness above me lost all meaning and swirled into something wonderful. I imagined I was part of it, that sky.
I was breathing, and because I was breathing I had hope. Toshiya’s body was warm as he lay down next to me, and I was aware of never having loved anything or anyone so completely.
“It’s so peaceful,” he said softly.
I knew there might come a day when the glasshouse would descend over me again. I knew that if it happened, I would run into the same blind alleys and windowless corridors as before; I might, in moments of weakness, retreat inside of myself forever. Its stifling proportions would distort the world once again, and I might find myself as untouchable and lonely as a god; trapped, forever, inside the hell of my mind.
But I didn’t think that was very likely. I would always live under its drifting shadow, but perhaps that was the price I paid. No longer did I look in the mirror and see any pair of eyes but my own, and now I wondered if perhaps the doppelganger who had plagued me was simply my own self as this older, wiser person, shaved and muscled but ultimately softened, silently assuring me that I would survive the storms that swirled inside my head.
Clouds sailed serenely past my vision. I smiled. I was content that Toshiya was next to me and that the world was very beautiful, and as he held my hand I thought about what a wonderful thing it was to know that it was my moment; that nobody else could ever take it away; that it belonged to me.
It had been three years since I had seen a therapist, had a shock, taken a pill.
“It is peaceful,” I agreed.
I imagined that this was my rebirth and that I was nothing more miraculous and ordinary as a newly born baby. I heard my heart; I wriggled my fingers; I took the first deep breath of my new life.
There were tears in my eyes. Outside of the glasshouse, the air was so very fresh and clean.
THE END
A/N: So it’s over! I hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As usual, I shall now perform my usual sad request for a grand delurking, so please let me know if you read The Glasshouse! :)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 01:13 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:23 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 01:46 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 01:49 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:24 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 05:26 am (UTC)From:the three of them returning to Nagano, and revisiting all those places seemed so nostalgic and sentimental.
this has to be the best happy ending for all three of them ^^
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:25 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 07:55 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:25 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 11:37 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:26 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 08:54 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 12:05 pm (UTC)From:All these words pierced into my heart with every breath and leaving a little broken smile on my lips.
Thanks for this masterpiece I enjoyed every single heartbeat reading it the fullest.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:27 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:21 pm (UTC)From:I loved this chapter!! ^^ For some reason after everything that Kyo had to go through, his recent state of mind feels believable. And that's good :) I really like the ending ^^ *hugs*
So do you already have any ideas for a new story? :D
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 02:28 pm (UTC)From:The weird thing is, I really don't have many new ideas at the moment! I still have the sort of Kyo-voice in my head a bit, so it's difficult to start something new.
Hopefully that will pass soon, because it drives me crazy if I can't write properly!
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 04:35 pm (UTC)From:Awesome work you've done on this. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-19 11:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-18 12:14 am (UTC)From:Somehow I can see a bit of myself in the last break^^
And somehow I´m happy that all characters are as happy as possible, even though I normally prefer unhappy endings in dark stories.
Anyway, I read everything, loved everything and will be waiting for a new fic from you =)
no subject
Date: 2012-07-19 11:19 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-18 07:02 pm (UTC)From:Thank you for the wonderful story, I enjoyed every chapter of it!
no subject
Date: 2012-07-19 12:03 am (UTC)From:One of my favorites fanfictions EVER. Want you to know it.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-19 11:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-07-19 11:07 pm (UTC)From:I would have preferred to read this in one go, like the others (because at least, when it's time to comment, the whole story is still fresh in my mind), but I have been a bad girl and I've read it as you posted it. But how could I resist, huh? HOW COULD I? I COULDN'T. So I didn't even try to resist.
Anyway, once more, I will have to say that I liked it. Loved it, even. Had I been in Toshiya's shoes, I would probably have done the same. Letting Kyo heal himself this way seems fair, in a kind of fucked up way. He is the way he is, and who are we to question this? And it was almost touching to see that, in a way, his wellbeing depended on those of his friends. Toshiya's, especially, because he was so in love it hurt. Kyo seemed to think of himself as a monster, when in fact, he is not.. Well... Not really... But I love him anyway ♥
I remember being on the verge of tears during one chapter (the 12th, to be precise). During the whole story, the way Kyo spoke was so raw, so intense...
Oh and a thumbs up for the scene during which Toshiya read the journal in the toilets and Kyo covered for him. I LOVED seeing Kaoru was nervous to peee while Kyo was in there XD "I'm not looking~"
So again, thank you for writing and sharing a beautiful piece ♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2012-08-21 10:13 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2012-09-03 08:07 pm (UTC)From:I have hoped for a happy end for Kyo and Toshiya, but this is so beautiful, I couldn't even imagine.
You made me cry so many times, you sucker!
No, seriously, I like the way you wrote this. Thanks so much.
no subject
Date: 2013-06-28 02:55 am (UTC)From:Once again I want to compliment your writing, both style and content. There were so many times I had to stop reading to catch my breath and clear the tears from my eyes. I would like to make this outrageously personal and say I had a somewhat of a hard time with this story because there were many feelings you put into Kyo that I've struggled with; also as I was reading I found out a really good friend of line was struggling with suicidal thoughts.
This was a dark and wondrous piece that I wish had more readers and more fans. Thank you so much for having the courage to delve into this subject matter so deeply to make it this convincing and heart wrenching.
no subject
Date: 2013-06-29 10:34 am (UTC)From:I think the feelings in Kyo's character were, at their simplest level, something that a lot of people can relate to. Otherwise, I don't think the story would have worked.
It's a strange one, this story. It's the one I'm most proud of, but also probably the most difficult to read. So thank you for getting through it!
no subject
Date: 2013-06-29 01:29 pm (UTC)From:And you should be proud of it.
no subject
Date: 2013-06-29 09:36 am (UTC)From:Thank you :)