BREAK THE LIMITS: 7/33

[andrew_in_drag]

Title: Break the Limits
Author: andrew_in_drag 
Pairing: Yoshiki x hide
Rating: mature
Warnings: foul language, yaoi, rock 'n roll excess
Genre: AU to bandfic
Note: I first wrote this fic about three (?) years ago, when I was still hallelujah_hide. Oddly enough, I still like it, so I thought I would move it here to my new journal. 
Synopsis: May 1998: Yoshiki Hayashi breaks down in a temple as he tries to take in the news that has changed his life forever - Hideto Matsumoto, the man he has been in love with for seventeen years, is dead. As the other mourners try to comfort him, Yoshiki finds himself falling back through history - to the day when it all began; the day when he met a boy who would, truly, break the limits...

CHAPTER SEVEN:

“I wrapped you inside my coat when they came to firebomb the house

I didn’t feel pain, ‘cause no one can touch me, now that I’m held in your spell…”

– ‘Punchdrunk Lovesick Singalong’, Radiohead

I hardly had the time to act as numb as I felt. Hideto was set to come round my house the following day, just as cheery and unsuspecting as ever; just as happily oblivious, like a calf to the slaughter. I could have just faded out, of course; just have written him a note that he would have received long after I’d boarded a train to Tottori…

But I had to speak to him. I had to absorb every last minute of time I had with him, just in case I never met another person like him. I could have begged my mother for all the last chances; don’t let this die, I might never fall in loveagain…

Hopeless. All of it.

He was meant to be sleeping over; I didn’t think I’d be able to bring myself to tell him until morning. I wanted those last, golden hours of peace; wanted as many memories of friendship as I could gather.

My mother removed herself from the house. I honestly didn’t think she could stand the sight of him. Aside from that, it was a Thursday: the maids’ day off. The house was completely mine, save for the kitchen staff.

It rained that day. There was thunder; there was wind that threatened to shatter the glass in our windows.

Let it, I thought. There was lightning. When he arrived, he was soaked to the skin, shivering in just his T-shirt – the day had dawned bright. This was just another summer thunderstorm.

“Fuck!” he greeted me, grinning and shaking his head like a dog, “I forgot it was such a long walk from the station to yours—”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’d sent the driver to pick him up.

He sighed happily. “Can I take a shower? I know I already look like something the sea coughed up but it’s fucking freez…ing.” He moved closer to me, taking my chin in between his thin, strong fingers and making me face him. “Yoshiki? Yoshi, are you okay?”

His concern made the guilt well up within me; stop caring so much, I wanted to say. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, even though I knew his gaze was seeking mine out.

“Yoshi,” he said, sounding almost scared, “Yoshi, what is it; why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m here,” I told him, my voice sounding strange even to my ears, “Aren’t I?”

Of course it was strange; I was trying not to scream.

I’ll never forget the way he stood then; bent down, craning to see in my face, so disconcertingly attuned to my feelings that I found myself bristling, flinching away. I felt caught out; ganged-up on.

“That’s not what I mean,” he blurted, his voice rising, “That’s not what I mean, and you know it—”

“Hide, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he declared vehemently, and I grabbed him by his skinny wrist.

“I’m fine,” I repeated firmly, beginning to pull him up the stairs, “Now come on, take a shower or you’ll catch cold.”

Glowering, he wrenched his hand from my grasp with such force that he staggered backwards down the stairs and almost fell into the foyer. He managed to keep his balance on the wet, slippery marble, but only just. His T-shirt was sticking to him; his hair was plastered around his neck. God, he was so beautiful. His T-shirt was dark, some dark colour, and only slightly too big for him. It might have only looked black because of the rain. ‘WHITE’, it read across the front, in bold letters. The slogans on his T-shirts never failed to amuse me: the last one he had worn had simply read ‘fuct’.

“Please,” he begged, “Tell me what it is? You’re all…distant. Have I done something, Yo?”

I shook my head heavily.

“No, Hide…you’ve done nothing.”

Anger suddenly bubbled in my throat and I started up the stairs. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, you know.”

For once, he followed me instead of the other way around. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, that voice of rage still stole reason from me: if he hates you, he won’t miss you.

And maybe if he hates you, you won’t miss him so much, either.

Hide showered quickly that day, put off by my icy silence. Usually he loved my shower; loved the force that came from the dual jets, but that day he cranked the water off before I felt ready to face him. He dressed in the clothes he had planned to wear the next day and set his wet outfit to dry on my radiator, all the while without speaking. He disappeared briefly into the bathroom to wring his wet hair out over the sink, but came back with his delicate features adorably determined. I sat on my bed, almost ignoring him, but he just sat down in front of me, so close I couldn’t ignore him. I was reminded forcefully of the day we became blood brothers. Where was that day now? It had happened some time in May, only a few months ago. How was it possible that so much time had passed?

“Yoshi.” His voice was quiet, “Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.”

“I told you,” I said levelly, although my voice shook, “You haven’t done anything. Besides, how could you be sorry if you didn’t know what you’d done?”

I saw the look of surprise jerk across his face like a slap. He’d never heard my voice that cold.

“I…” it had thrown him off. “I’d be sorry because if I’d done anything that had hurt you this badly, made you this angry, I know I’d want to take it back straight away. That’s what friends do for each other, Yoshi.”

I looked him straight in the eye. I couldn’t wait until morning; couldn’t keep this up until morning. The worst plan I’d ever come up with and still I couldn’t stick to it. I had to keep swallowing to force sobs down.

“Hide,” I said slowly, “I’m going to boarding school in Tottori. I leave in five days.”

His fingers snagged in his wet hair and he froze, staring at me. His face seemed to be bleaching slowly of colour, and he shook his head dazedly. For the first time since he’d entered my life, time did exactly what I wanted, and stood still.

Be careful what you wish for.

“No.” He bit his lip, “No, you can’t go.”

“Hide…” I hung my head, “I have to. Some…” my mouth was dry, “Some friend of my family goes there. His parents are on the board of governors.”

He got clumsily to his feet and backed away, staring at me with true shock etched all over his face.

“No, you can’t go. You can’t.”

He swallowed, his eyes flickering around my face anxiously. “Please, Yo. Don’t. Just…just don’t!”

I couldn’t work up any emotion in my voice. While he over-acted, I under-acted; wasn’t that the way it always was? Both of us always on our separate edges: me at risk of becoming nothing at all; Hide sentenced to destroy himself with his own uniqueness – like a star that grows too large and too bright, destined for the sorry fate of simply falling in on itself.

Except stars have millions of years – billions of years.

Hide had just thirty-three.

“Don’t be angry,” I begged, “Please, can’t we…can’t we make the most of this time? Please, Hide—”

“Don’t be angry?” he gasped, incredulous, “Don’t be angry?”

“Please calm down,” I said foolishly, and he stumbled backwards with shock.

“Calm down,” he repeated furiously, “How can you expect me to calm down?! You’re my best friend, and you’re leaving me!”

“I’m not leaving you,” I said pleadingly, “I’m leaving the school; there’s a difference—”

“Is there,” he asked quietly, except it wasn’t really a question.

“Hide—”

“You know what just – just gets me?” he ranted, gesturing wildly, “It’s you – you don’t even care, do you?! Telling me to calm down, you’re such a – such a rich kid! So spoilt!”

“Oh, I’m the one acting spoilt!” I shot back, stress clear in my voice.

“Yeah, you are! Or…” he faltered briefly before picking up again at full speed, “Or so…so rich, it’s like nothing is impossible for you to get, so…so nothing has a value! Everything can be replaced!”

“What?” I asked breathlessly, staring at him with my eyes pricking.

“It’s just, you know; ‘oh, this thing that millions of people would die to be able to afford is broken, let’s buy a new one with our loose change’; or ‘oh, this private school that costs about a million fucking yen a year isn’t good enough for me, let’s move to one that’s probably even snobbier in Tottori’; or, or…or ‘this guy isn’t good enough to be my friend any more, so let’s get a brand new one who goes to some stupid school where they teach you how to shove a stick up your a—” he broke off, spinning to hide his face as tears spattered down his cheeks.

I don’t know for how long I sat there numbly, listening to the rain and watching as his shoulders shook. Quiet, doubting questions flitted through my mind; is that what he thinks of us? Of me? How can he believe he’s so easy to replace?

“Hide…”

“Shut up,” he sobbed, wiping his eyes as he turned back to face me. “You know what the stupid thing is? My mum warned me about this happening. She said you’d drop me and I – I defended you! God, what an idiot I was!”

“Why can’t you understand?” I shouted, getting to my feet at last. He didn’t flinch. “I don’t want to go to this place! I don’t want to go anywhere without you!”

“Then why are you going?” he yelled back, and I snapped. Red-hot rage was bubbling in my stomach, imprinting itself in the backs of my eyes so that for a minute, I almost could have hated him.

“Because of YOU!” I bellowed, “My mother’s making me change schools – because of you!”

“Because your mum doesn’t like me?!”

“Because you didn’t even try to make her like you!” I blazed, “If you’d just – just managed to be normal for a day, I would never have to go! And yeah, maybe it is a rich thing, because – because maybe rich and poor just can’t be friends. Maybe they just can’t.”

Silence. Hide opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. He was staring at the floor, his eyes shining with tears, and I began to get a pitching sensation in my stomach: that sick feeling you get when you have said or done something awful and cannot take it back.

“I didn’t mean that,” I stammered, but he just carried on staring at the floor. “Hide…” I reached for him, but the moment I brushed his arm he glanced up at me, and his eyes – those beautiful eyes – were so full of fury that I immediately stepped backward. He didn’t say anything more, just glared at me. I wasn’t so naïve that I couldn’t see his raw hurt through the anger, but his look of sheer rage rooted me to the spot as he opened my bedroom door, and closed it behind him. I heard him break into a run, over the marble staircase, but it wasn’t until I heard him enter the foyer downstairs that I came to my senses.

And of course, desperately, I followed him.

“HIDE!”

The rain was coming down so hard it stung. He’d left all his things in my bedroom, I remembered, and with a stab of relief I thought he’d have to come back for them.

But then I remembered that I most likely would be gone by the time he’d realized, and chased him all the harder. He wasn’t running anymore – I could see him up ahead, a splash of colour against the dark grey horizon – just walking quickly, hands jammed into his pocket, head down against the rain and all that had happened between us that afternoon. Already I knew how stupid I’d been; how hot-headed and childish, and Hide…had he thought I’d meant it?

But I loved him.

“Hide,” I panted, my bare feet striking the rain-soaked streets as I caught up to him, “Hide, stop. Please.”

He rounded on me, tears and rain soaking his cheeks, flinching away from my grasp so violently that his whole body twisted.

“I didn’t mean what I said! Any of it! Hide, you’re my best friend; you’re the only person I’ve ever – I’ve ever truly felt understood me. God,” I cried, tears catching in my throat, “I’m sorry. Don’t do this to me. Please, just – justlisten to me.”

“What the fuck,” he asked, his voice cold with you fury, “Could you possibly say that I’d want to hear?”

My vision blurred. My voice, when I heard it, was not mine at all.

“I love you.”

It amazes me even now how long we stood there, staring at each other. The rain seemed to seal us off from the world, in our own little bubble. I barely noticed how my hair was getting soaked, plastering itself to the back of my neck; I was too busy staring at him. Neither of us wore coats, of course, or shoes. I wondered how Hide had expected to get home without shoes. His socks were sodden, their light orange colour darkened to almost red. I don’t really know how I noticed all of this. I was staring at him, willing him to respond, too terrified to take my eyes off my face. With those three words, some immense boundary had been…pushed. Maybe that was all it would take.

He swallowed. “What?”

And for all my bravery, I fixed my gaze just south from his eyes and muttered, “Nothing.”

“No…” Where was his confidence? My Hide never stuttered. “Yoshi, if you said – if you said what I think you said – I need to hear it.”

Yoshi. The nickname broke me.

“I love you,” I repeated. His fingers were twitching in the damp folds of his T-shirt; I knew he wanted a cigarette. “I…I don’t know for how long exactly. A while. A…a long while.”

I saw him take a thousand little moments in which I’d betrayed my fondness for him; take them, and string them together until they were long enough to wrap around us both.

“Well,” he said finally, and I felt my heart shatter. What affection could possibly be gleaned from that response? –That fragile, uneasy, “well”. I had almost heard the full stop after it. That was it.

And then I felt his hands on my chin, on my cheeks, his fingers slipping back through my hair to cup my head gently, and I looked up. I could hardly dare to believe it; the tiny smile on his face, the rain in his hair, the way he got closer to me with every passing moment.

Well. That secret smile: like a pink-haired, rain-soaked angel.

He bypassed my lips and gently bit on my earlobe before whispering, “I’m still mad at you.”

His lips trailed a path to mine, like a god placing stars in the sky, and I wrapped my arms around him helplessly. And I almost changed my mind about him looking almost holy, that day in the rain, because that was definitely no angel kissing me.