[Eichi's presence really would cause quite the stir, so Wataru politely doesn't turn his head back as he addresses him in return.]
I may be, or I may not be. It's not your concern, is it? Oh, but I've forgotten! You made me your concern, didn't you? Because you don't hate me!
[He carefully gets up and stands on the edge, back pressed against the fencing.]
Is it so hard to believe that a person like me would be so mundane, at the end of the day? I spend my weekends in solitude, you know! I prefer films to going out. Usually I have tea with the grandmas down the street once or twice a week, when I don't have rehearsals. The acting course thinks I'm in high demand, so it keeps me quite busy.
[He sways a bit, fingers twisting in the fencing, looking up to the sky. No, he's not really thinking of falling or jumping or anything of the sort. But he certainly wishes he could fly.]
Then again, your concerns aren't my concerns at all, and I'm not concerned with them in the least! What cause do I have to try to please you, when you lack the fundamental quality of Amazing?
[Wataru's words are like knives, and he refuses to show that at all. He's been exceptionally vicious, of course, to reach his goals... and he's manipulated, done all that he could to craft his image to the public in one way, and he must seem like a demon to those who can see it. So not only does he have to sit through the pain of people pelting Wataru with insults and cruel words, but he has to endure his most admired person completely hating him.
It's enough that he feels they should be on opposite sides of the fence, here. In a way, they might be. Wataru isn't planning to jump. Eichi is throwing his life away with every action, prepared to die at the end like a tragic hero.
He dares another step forward, smiling sickeningly sweet, none of his insecure feelings on his face.]
A God among men can never be just a man, Hibiki-kun. No matter how you may try to live your life normal and mundane, it can never be so. You and I both know that much. [He does everything too well. He can either be loved... or hated. There's no in between. And similarly, it can switch so immediately.]
You must hate me by now, so it's not that I expect you to please me. Rather, I wonder why you haven't acted out on it a little more... It's not as hopeless as anyone might think. I could be flipped over and ruined. I've made mistakes that you must have been aware of, and yet those opportunities were left alone.
I've been wondering something since you saved me, you know? Though there's a gap so large between us I still haven't been able to cross, I feel drawn to you. This is a powerful feeling that goes beyond words. Fated rivals, enemies, lovers, those figures spoken of in tales and stories world wide... It's the scale of that, nothing so normal, so can this sort of thing truly be one way?
[Yes, he calls him by his given name, with all the vitriol he can muster, and all the love he has in his heart for humanity at the same time. He can tell, somehow, that Eichi is calling Wataru the God, and not himself. That he's so elevated that he's something Eichi reaches toward and falls short of. He deduces this from those elaborate words, from obfuscating filler.]
Don't you know? You're exactly my type of person, with one great flaw that drives a wedge between us. I'd love to have fun with you! I'd like to feel your hand in mine. The wind blowing past us now even carries the scent of your cologne to me, and it's familiar. Brilliant. Something that makes me nostalgic. Yet there are people like you, who hold on too tightly, then strangle the very neck you wanted to embrace.
I haven't hurt you because I don't have a real reason. My instinct says I should vault right over this fence and throw you from this ledge instead, but where's the fun in that? What's the use? It makes no one happy, save me, and even then I would wonder if I'd done the right thing. Have you ever met someone so self-sacrificing?
[He knows where he stands in the world. Lonely, atop a pedestal that's been chipped away at. He is nothing, yet he is everything. No one can touch him, but no one will save him. Alone, despairing, he turns inward and inward, over and over, when the thing he wants most is to reach out and grasp an offered hand. But no one is there. If he leapt, people would take pictures, rather than try to help. That's what his life has become: a novelty.]
There's one thing you understand about me perfectly, isn't there? Do you know what that is?
[Wataru speaks his name, and he feels his heart stop. Spoken like that, but still spoken, and he doesn't know how it can affect him so much, but it does. He thinks he'd be happy to hear his name spoken like that as the last thing he hears. It all fits into this mindset... This self-destructive mindset.]
W-what? [But he's stunned, too, by what Wataru is trying to say. It's rare that they're able to speak like this, and so he doesn't know what to make of it. He doesn't understand Wataru talking about hand holding and cologne, and in holding his breath, his cheeks turn a little pink for it. He's glad that Wataru isn't looking back at him.]
I've given you reason for just that, haven't I? It's not only you who would be happy. Perhaps... some people might even be freed.
[Keito.
But he pauses, considers those last words of Wataru's and drops the rest of his thoughts, his arguing that he should be thrown, the background implications of do it, do it!]
...One thing that I understand? I may have a few ideas... but I'd rather hear you simply confirm it yourself. What is it?
[He laughs, short but clear, full of the joy of liberating his deepest, darkest secret. Who else could he admit that to, but someone just as miserable as himself?
He sways forward, fingers gripping the fence, the only thing between him and oblivion. The wind picks up, whipping his hair wildly, and he closes his eyes and loosens his grip slightly, precarious. Like flying. If only, if only.]
Couldn't we reach an agreement? I'll give you what it is you so desperately want to take from me, and you'll give me your time. Together, couldn't we find a way for you to learn Amazing? I'd ask you what it is you want, but if it's intangible, or if it's impossible, why not believe that I'll deliver anyway? Haven't I always?
[He swings around so he's facing Eichi now, and begins to work his way up and up, back over the fencing, much to the dismay of the bloodthirsty crowd below. Another day, they shall have his blood. Not today. Today, it's Eichi's.]
What do you think of that? Of this lowest common denominator between us?
[He's been nothing but determination, fiery and intense, from the start, but it's Wataru's words that make him waver. He watches the man he admires loosen his grip slightly, and Eichi outstretches a hand like he means to move forward— but just as soon, he's hearing those shocking words and watching him climb the fence.
I... What are you suggesting, exactly? [He was so blunt, and still Eichi seems confused by it.] It's a lonely place, on top of the world, so of course I'd have to agree with that. It's not surprising that you might be lonely, and I've made myself lonely like this, as well...
But it's what's necessary, isn't it? To change things, to make a difference. I...
[He lifts a hand over his chest, blinking a few times as his next sentence wavers and trails off. He felt something strange just now, a warmth, a familiarity like those scenes from the night of the rescue. It's dizzying.]
I have to wonder what sort of agreement you must mean. To you, my time must be worth nothing. To me... there was never a chance that you wouldn't deliver what I hoped for.
[Reaching the top of the fence, he drops down on Eichi's side, gracefully landing in a crouch. With a grin up at the blonde, and trying to steady his own nerves from the self-inflicted brush with eternity, he rocks back onto his backside and sits, leaning against the fence.]
I don't think you really want to be alone. I think you want someone who understands you to reach out a hand and tell you it's fine. That you've done well, and you can rest. That everything you've done, for every unselfish reason, makes sense.
[He shrugs, eyes fixed on Eichi.]
But I don't like lying about that kind of thing, so I won't. I'll simply tell you that you're doing things in a way that's going to be worse for you than for anyone else. Don't become like me, you silly man. Lift yourself up and surround yourself with love while you still can. Before someone closes every door save the one that leads to them.
[He doesn't want to be here, in this place, in this time, in this way. He wants to love freely, live loudly and brightly.
But there's only one path open to him now.
Standing, he brushes off his trousers and dusts his hands as well, then offers a hand, palm up, to the Emperor before him.]
I won't concede defeat. Instead, I'll ask to be your jester.
[ Frustration and anger sparks at Wataru’s correct analysis of Eichi’s desires. To have someone who understands, who’s there... He hates that it’s pointed out. He hates that it’s a clear weakness. That’s what it is, isn’t it? That’s what he’s learned about this cruel world: feelings like that are most certainly a weakness.
Wataru’s hand looks so soft, so tempting, and his fingers twitch at his side before he lifts his own palm. ]
Do you really believe that someone like me could be loved?
[ His hand stretches forward, eyes set firm on taking Wataru’s— but he stops short. The desire is so strong, his own desire, but that’s why he wants to fight it. Is this what Wataru wants? Is this some sort of elaborate set up? He doesn’t understand how he could give up now. Is this really it? Did he really successfully point Wataru straight at him? But... ]
Only a fool would, right?
[ His fingers stretch to open his palm, but he doesn’t grab at Wataru yet. He’s lost in thought. ]
[His voice drops low, and Wataru, uncaring for Eichi's hesitation, takes matters up himself. He seizes Eichi's hand, and the contact sends a warmth through him like the rays of the spring sun. He looks at Eichi, really looks at him, and sees so many things. Not a fearful, broken boy in a school uniform, but a powerful political figure, a daimyo, a man of little consequence, all these mantles but with one common thread. He's holding Wataru's hand. Gently sometimes, passionately at others, first meetings, final partings, all in this grasp.
He can't breathe. He's too thrilled, but he's also terrified to see his suspicions confirmed. He could never have escaped Eichi's talons because he was never meant to. What did he do wrong in a previous life, that his eternal love would damage him so? That they would both hurt so much, for so long... Even Eichi, in all his cruelty, deserves better than the twisted claws of fate sinking in.
His voice is hardly above a whisper.]
Eichi. You see it, don't you? I won't ask you to believe it, but the truth is there. I've known you for lifetimes before this one, long and short. And in this one, once again, you have the power to choose.
[He releases Eichi's hand slowly, lowering his own to his side, then steps past the blonde to head back into the school. If Eichi thinks fast enough, he might even be able to answer now.
Will they both be fortune's fools? Wataru is resigned to his fate.]
[It's electric. Wataru grasps his hand before he can even process what's happening, and Eichi gasps audibly at the powerful sensation that he's not ready for. Memories, spilling into him, just barely the tip of an iceberg. But those eyes, the ones he's meeting now with his own wide ones, were always the same. They were always the most beautiful things.
His hand is released and words are being spoken before he can even register it. Slowly, he takes in a breath, and his free hand lifts to his chest to try and regulate his breathing after that. What? It was... He'd never listened deeply to any of Keito's rambling about reincarnation, but this was—]
Wataru!
[He calls out the name before his mind can even catch up. Eichi has turned, reaching to brush delicate fingertips at the edge of Wataru's fingers, not catching them so much as hinting at it, grazing by. But his eyes are wide and he exhales shakily.
When he realizes that he's called him something like that without thought, the hand from his chest lifts to cover his lips, briefly, and he looks startled. But slowly, that hand drops a little lower, and he dares a step forward again.]
Just now... that powerful feeling was something that we shared? This isn't a trick. Emotions can't be forced on someone, even if I can't understand them... but this one is quite clear.
"Stay by my side, whatever it takes." I'll continue to close the distance between us if I have to, but if you becoming my "jester" means that you'll stay there without that, then... Please. Hibiki-kun.
[He hears his name, and he knows. He's been captured by Eichi, captivated somehow, not through desperate actions but through a moment of understanding. Eichi finally met Wataru on his terms, and he chases this fleeting happiness he's so missed for a few moments, basking in it as Eichi soliloquizes behind him.
That brush of fingers, soft, gentle, and he breathes Eichi in like the sea breeze, like something welcome and life-giving. The opposite of their previous interactions. Wataru's own breathing steadies, and the tension he's been holding in slowly, slowly melts away. Eichi is... powerless, now. He can't hurt him anymore. Even if Wataru were to walk away now, this would be a flawless victory.
If there's anything Wataru wants to do more than anyone, it's love. To love others, to love his craft, to love himself. It's the only thing that can neutralize Eichi's aggression and render him incapable of forward motion. That's all Wataru needs to do. He needs to make the blonde stop, think, and most importantly feel.]
I believe what we just felt was the truth. Take some time to search yourself for the answer you seek in it, as to what it is, as to what it entails. What you'll have to give up to attain it.
[He turns back to Eichi with a shrug, then a usual theatrical bow.]
Meet me in the third practice room, two days from today. Lunchtime. Come prepared to bare your soul. In turn, I'll give you what you want.
[He straightens.]
The inimitable, unstoppable, invincible, inscrutable: your Wataru Hibiki.
Why does it seem as though you're so comfortable with this knowledge, I wonder...
[He recognizes it in a way Eichi can't grasp, in other words, and it troubles him a little. Is this a trap after all? Is he falling into something he shouldn't? But his heart aches at the thought of pulling back. He's long learned to shut others out and press past that feeling, but can he continue to do that with Wataru?
He watches him and his bow, his hair blowing gently in the wind on the rooftop.]
So long as nothing stops me, then I'll meet you there. [He wants to make it clear he won't be ditching, but this feels like such a heavy thing. There's something tight in his chest telling him he needs to make sure he doesn't lose this. That it's not stolen away.]
Unlike you, Eichi, I have nothing to lose anymore. I can even call you by your name just this easily, without a single care in the world. I'm already dead. But will the great Emperor of Yumenosaki revive me? Ah, this modern-day Frankenstein tale intrigues me!
[And he turns, hair billowing behind him, and enters the school once more. He feels his body start to relax again, his heart rate to slow, his breathing to even out. He was almost terrified of Eichi, terrified of the truth and of their connection, perhaps even their inevitability. Now, he's at some strange kind of peace. He signs away his life tomorrow, in exchange for his happiness, and he hopes that like Beauty and the Beast, he'll find the sweetness within the savagery.
He'll act normal for the rest of the day, go about his lonely business, and bide his time until they meet two days hence.
Two days later, Wataru dresses in his nicest rehearsal warmups, and heads to the third practice room just before the end of their last pre-lunch class period. He wants to feel the oppressive, crushing weight of fear. He wants to revel in uncertainty as he waits for Eichi. In part, he wants to prove that this isn't really fate, and he has an overactive imagination. Magic like this doesn't and can't exist. A bond between two people, impossible to sever, through life and death? Impossible. But he saw the mark on Eichi's chest, and he's seen a representation of Eichi in his dreams for so long that this does feel wholly inevitable.
Still, he wrings his hands a bit, before deciding to stretch and do some yoga as he awaits Eichi.]
[That meeting was Wataru's win, in the end. It left Eichi anxious, trying to think through it. Keito would normally be someone that he'd talk to about this, but lately even he had turned his back on Eichi, leaving him completely alone. There was no one to ask, nothing to do. He could only stew on it himself, and it left him restless, unable to sleep. Exhausted, health dipping. He had to increase his medication, and for some reason, the mark on his chest had been aching. He didn't understand anything.
But he arrives, in his normal Yumenosaki uniform, since he's not the sort of person who can attend practices normally, anyway. Shutting the door behind him to make sure Wataru knows he's there, he stares at his stretching form and finds himself feeling warm, wanting to reach out and touch him, to hold him tight and never let go. Something tells him that it's been lifetimes of this longing. The faint memories, the images when he tried to sleep...
He swallows hard and steps forward. As a defense mechanism, he's still holding himself tall, smiling calmly, but... As Wataru had said, he'd prepared to bare his soul. He's prepared for anything.
He did think about it. It angers him that fate may be controlling him, or that he may be playing into someone's palm... but if it's anyone's palm he'd like to be played into, it's Wataru's. He can no longer deny that.]
Um... Hibiki-kun? [And he shows such unusual nervousness and hesitation when it comes to Wataru, as well. Wataru and no one else.]
[Warmth and trepidation in equal measure wash over Wataru, and he rises from his place on a mat to stretch his arms wide before addressing Eichi. He must seem casual. Collected. Unafraid. He's walking to his death right now, he feels, but he won't let that be the end. Maybe, somehow, it will be a beautiful beginning instead.
Eichi's closer than he wants him to be, but Wataru doesn't step back, conscious of needing to hold his position to hold the last remnants of his power. Eichi won the war; Wataru has just finally won some pyrrhic victories in these last few meetings.
Still, the nervousness apparent in Eichi's tone bodes well. Maybe he wasn't bluffing when he said what he said about wanting to be by Wataru's side. But he's the Emperor, and Wataru the Fool, and he'll play his part until the end. He bows to Eichi at last, acknowledging his dominance without mockery he so easily could have drawn upon if he wanted to.]
So you came, after all~! You're not dressed for it... A shame! I'd thought to merge our hearts as one with warm bodies and high spirits.
...I'm not quite sure what my state of dress has to do with any of that.
[He doesn't understand Wataru's angle, and so he's closed off in this reply, standing tall, arms folding over his chest. Honestly... it makes him want to blush, but he holds back. He's still in control of this much.]
You've been quite vague in explaining all of this, and yet you seem to understand much more than I do. What's the meaning of this? With this meeting, in particular? What are your plans?
[Wataru smiles, enigmatic and strange, a hand running in a nervous habit down the braid at his side. It feels like Eichi has come to interrogate, rather than to meet him at some happy midpoint, but he holds the smile as best he can, as if still anticipating a small victory.
Please, please let this be a victory. He can't stand the trials anymore. He'll change courses mid-year if he has to, if this doesn't work out. Or maybe he'll change schools. He's heard good things about a few other choice academies his former peers went to after second year's difficulties.
He raises his chin defiantly, but only a little, trying to stay somewhat friendly.]
[For a moment, Eichi hesitates again. Wataru is asking so much of him. It's not something unfair— he'd do the same if he was in his shoes. But that's what worries him. Here he is, an undefeated "Emperor", someone who climbed corpses to the top. Someone with no close attachments, who everyone abandoned. Someone chasing after death, if it means achieving his goal.
But looking straight at Wataru and into his eyes, he sees something so much more than this silly moment. He sees not just the person he's been longing for this entire time, but someone he's longed for for lifetimes. Someone that fate isn't tying him together to, despite how it may seem— but someone that fate is punishing him for, ripping apart from him time and time again.
He wants to stop it. He wants to reach out and hold him.
And so, he relents.]
It will be a difficult thing... [He has to explain that he's struggling, that he can't walk into this so eagerly when everything is at stake. If Wataru uses this, uses his feelings that he may have found out from someone else and burns him to the ground with it, then what does he have left? Nothing. Anyone would be afraid.]
But I am prepared. I decided that early on. No matter what this may be... I'll bare all, as you say.
[He pirouettes in place and his ponytail swishes behind him, then he scoops up the mat he was stretching on, rolls it up, and places it back in the bin nearby. He's buying time, stalling, making Eichi understand that he will be the one in control of this. It's what he's been longing for, a little control back in his life. He's been so alone, bordering on fearful, and he finally has something in his grasp that might change his fortunes. Will he let it get away? He'll have to see.]
Then, if you're prepared, I'll state my terms. This is, as you can see by my dress, an audition. You're used to those, aren't you? No? Ah, those of us in the theatre world know the trials of auditions perhaps best of all, so I'm fully comfortable with the process. As the one of lower standing, I have no illusions of being the "director" of this production. Rather, should this audition go as I hope, you'll be the one selecting me. You have all the power to turn me away, to find me wanting. I, in turn, have the power to decline the role.
[He adjusts his ponytail.]
I've prepared a monologue, a dance, and a vocal selection. Do you need a script to follow?
[Eichi feels like everything has been blown away since the moment their hands touched on the roof, but this is something even more wild, isn't it? He's struggling to keep up, like he's being dragged by the collar, and that's as exciting as it is frustrating.]
...I have a feeling that a script wouldn't add any clarity to the situation, necessarily, so there's no need. This sounds as though I'll be the one judging your audition though...? Is that right?
Correct! Judge, jury, and formerly executioner, aren't you? But a lovely choice for them all.
[Is this an audition, or is this an assisted suicide? Wataru leaves that up for debate. As long as he can keep throwing Eichi curveballs, he'll be fine, he thinks. As long as Eichi never sees him sweat.]
Won't you have a seat in the chair I've prepared for you? [He gestures to one on the far side of the room.] And I can begin with whichever routine you'd like.
[He's not following. His heart is racing, too, and so he stares over to the side at the chair and then moves towards it to take a seat. What is Wataru expecting of him, exactly? Or... what is Wataru wanting to show him?
He's not sure, but he wants to see every bit of it. It's hard to even choose, but he makes himself.]
A dance! I do, indeed. I fear you've seen it before, but I doubt you remember it as strongly as I do.
[He pulls his phone from his pocket, disconnects the earbuds, and stashes them in his bag. Then he pulls up a sound file on his phone, one that starts with a series of tempo clicks. But soon enough the music begins, and Wataru takes his place squarely in the middle of the room, directly in front of Eichi.
Eichi might recognize the music, if he thinks back. Wataru's swan song, so to speak. The last time he performed as an idol, thanks to Eichi's destructive tendencies. It was the showdown between Eichi's fine and Wataru, the long haired idol alone on the stage, as his friends watched in horror. The audience tore him limb from limb that day, and rehashing the dance might be akin to putting himself back in that place, but he doesn't seem bothered. His smile is as wide as it was that day, his head held as high. But it lacks elegance, in a track suit.
It lacks emotion at first, too, as he dances the halting movements of the duel section, and he doesn't sing the words that went with it. Instead, he counts pauses, calls steps, focusing on the dance elements entirely, not the song itself. What he's aiming for is to make Eichi's brain fill in the gaps, to recall what little he may of that day, the first day they touched, when a spent Eichi collapsed into Wataru's arms and the magician wished things could be different. The first time he felt a pang of longing when looking at Eichi. Sure, he'd felt a pull the first time their eyes met, but Wataru was, at that time, such a lover! He would feel that pull with anyone exceptional, anyone who might be on his level, who he might've been able to see eye to eye with. Why had this one turned from an ephemeral dream to a walking, brutal nightmare?
He'll dance until the end of the song, or until Eichi stops him, the familiar lines echoing from the phone, with tempo clicks during fine's interludes. He'd had the whole thing perfectly timed from the start, perfectly rehearsed. All he's doing now is showing Eichi just how splendidly he'd danced to the Emperor's tune.]
[He recognizes it. Of course he does. He'd brutally set out to do it, but it had hurt him to watch. His comrades had abandoned him after he hurt them so much, and he collapsed into the arms of the enemy with no one else left at his side. He thought he was going to die. Maybe he should have.
He stares hard at this performance, analyzing Wataru's every move, picking up what he's trying to say. The emphasis, the statement. It's cruel, he thinks. Like a revenge... Is that what this is meant to be?
Eichi is still so blind to things like kindness, or guidance. Wataru, just like everyone else, must be using him for something. But what? His thoughts waver on that point, though. He's not sure... He can't tell. It's aggravating.
At least for this, he waits until the end to speak up, and there's no clapping, even if he always enjoys the way Wataru moves his body.]
I'll ask you again, Wataru Hibiki. What's the meaning of all of this? Bringing our minds back to that place and time... What's the point, when it's so deeply engraved for both of us?
If you have a problem with me, then I'd prefer for you to criticize me directly.
The meaning? I wonder... It was the last dance you allowed me, so it was freshest in my mind. I hadn't much time to prepare. If it offends you, I can do something else! I'm only doing my best here, as you can well and truly see for yourself.
[Eichi's not going to like any of this, Wataru knows. But he has a point to make. That no matter how hard Eichi grips things, no matter how unrelenting his grasp, he must allow autonomy, or he will fall. And he has to show Eichi where he's foundered in the past, because Wataru...
A breath. His chest tightens as he thinks about it. Wataru is to be Eichi's future, isn't he? So let him conjure up ghosts and spirits of the worst kind and kill them off with his enthusiasm. Let him slay the demons that track and would drag Eichi to Hell.]
But if you'd like me to criticize you directly, I'll gladly do so. You see, when I choreographed that dance, I knew I was going to lose. I fed everything into what you wanted, thinking you had it in yourself to be merciful if only I, in my naivete, played along. That that would be the end. You hunted me down like an animal, Eichi Tenshouin. You wounded me, and drove me into this fearful corner. What did you hope to gain? Bare your soul, as promised, and we'll continue.
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teaism2019-05-21 10:36 pm
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I may be, or I may not be. It's not your concern, is it? Oh, but I've forgotten! You made me your concern, didn't you? Because you don't hate me!
[He carefully gets up and stands on the edge, back pressed against the fencing.]
Is it so hard to believe that a person like me would be so mundane, at the end of the day? I spend my weekends in solitude, you know! I prefer films to going out. Usually I have tea with the grandmas down the street once or twice a week, when I don't have rehearsals. The acting course thinks I'm in high demand, so it keeps me quite busy.
[He sways a bit, fingers twisting in the fencing, looking up to the sky. No, he's not really thinking of falling or jumping or anything of the sort. But he certainly wishes he could fly.]
Then again, your concerns aren't my concerns at all, and I'm not concerned with them in the least! What cause do I have to try to please you, when you lack the fundamental quality of Amazing?
no subject
It's enough that he feels they should be on opposite sides of the fence, here. In a way, they might be. Wataru isn't planning to jump. Eichi is throwing his life away with every action, prepared to die at the end like a tragic hero.
He dares another step forward, smiling sickeningly sweet, none of his insecure feelings on his face.]
A God among men can never be just a man, Hibiki-kun. No matter how you may try to live your life normal and mundane, it can never be so. You and I both know that much. [He does everything too well. He can either be loved... or hated. There's no in between. And similarly, it can switch so immediately.]
You must hate me by now, so it's not that I expect you to please me. Rather, I wonder why you haven't acted out on it a little more... It's not as hopeless as anyone might think. I could be flipped over and ruined. I've made mistakes that you must have been aware of, and yet those opportunities were left alone.
I've been wondering something since you saved me, you know? Though there's a gap so large between us I still haven't been able to cross, I feel drawn to you. This is a powerful feeling that goes beyond words. Fated rivals, enemies, lovers, those figures spoken of in tales and stories world wide... It's the scale of that, nothing so normal, so can this sort of thing truly be one way?
Are you not having fun, deep down, I wonder?
no subject
[Yes, he calls him by his given name, with all the vitriol he can muster, and all the love he has in his heart for humanity at the same time. He can tell, somehow, that Eichi is calling Wataru the God, and not himself. That he's so elevated that he's something Eichi reaches toward and falls short of. He deduces this from those elaborate words, from obfuscating filler.]
Don't you know? You're exactly my type of person, with one great flaw that drives a wedge between us. I'd love to have fun with you! I'd like to feel your hand in mine. The wind blowing past us now even carries the scent of your cologne to me, and it's familiar. Brilliant. Something that makes me nostalgic. Yet there are people like you, who hold on too tightly, then strangle the very neck you wanted to embrace.
I haven't hurt you because I don't have a real reason. My instinct says I should vault right over this fence and throw you from this ledge instead, but where's the fun in that? What's the use? It makes no one happy, save me, and even then I would wonder if I'd done the right thing. Have you ever met someone so self-sacrificing?
[He knows where he stands in the world. Lonely, atop a pedestal that's been chipped away at. He is nothing, yet he is everything. No one can touch him, but no one will save him. Alone, despairing, he turns inward and inward, over and over, when the thing he wants most is to reach out and grasp an offered hand. But no one is there. If he leapt, people would take pictures, rather than try to help. That's what his life has become: a novelty.]
There's one thing you understand about me perfectly, isn't there? Do you know what that is?
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W-what? [But he's stunned, too, by what Wataru is trying to say. It's rare that they're able to speak like this, and so he doesn't know what to make of it. He doesn't understand Wataru talking about hand holding and cologne, and in holding his breath, his cheeks turn a little pink for it. He's glad that Wataru isn't looking back at him.]
I've given you reason for just that, haven't I? It's not only you who would be happy. Perhaps... some people might even be freed.
[Keito.
But he pauses, considers those last words of Wataru's and drops the rest of his thoughts, his arguing that he should be thrown, the background implications of do it, do it!]
...One thing that I understand? I may have a few ideas... but I'd rather hear you simply confirm it yourself. What is it?
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[He laughs, short but clear, full of the joy of liberating his deepest, darkest secret. Who else could he admit that to, but someone just as miserable as himself?
He sways forward, fingers gripping the fence, the only thing between him and oblivion. The wind picks up, whipping his hair wildly, and he closes his eyes and loosens his grip slightly, precarious. Like flying. If only, if only.]
Couldn't we reach an agreement? I'll give you what it is you so desperately want to take from me, and you'll give me your time. Together, couldn't we find a way for you to learn Amazing? I'd ask you what it is you want, but if it's intangible, or if it's impossible, why not believe that I'll deliver anyway? Haven't I always?
[He swings around so he's facing Eichi now, and begins to work his way up and up, back over the fencing, much to the dismay of the bloodthirsty crowd below. Another day, they shall have his blood. Not today. Today, it's Eichi's.]
What do you think of that? Of this lowest common denominator between us?
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Loneliness. That's true. It's incredibly true, but...?]
I... What are you suggesting, exactly? [He was so blunt, and still Eichi seems confused by it.] It's a lonely place, on top of the world, so of course I'd have to agree with that. It's not surprising that you might be lonely, and I've made myself lonely like this, as well...
But it's what's necessary, isn't it? To change things, to make a difference. I...
[He lifts a hand over his chest, blinking a few times as his next sentence wavers and trails off. He felt something strange just now, a warmth, a familiarity like those scenes from the night of the rescue. It's dizzying.]
I have to wonder what sort of agreement you must mean. To you, my time must be worth nothing. To me... there was never a chance that you wouldn't deliver what I hoped for.
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I don't think you really want to be alone. I think you want someone who understands you to reach out a hand and tell you it's fine. That you've done well, and you can rest. That everything you've done, for every unselfish reason, makes sense.
[He shrugs, eyes fixed on Eichi.]
But I don't like lying about that kind of thing, so I won't. I'll simply tell you that you're doing things in a way that's going to be worse for you than for anyone else. Don't become like me, you silly man. Lift yourself up and surround yourself with love while you still can. Before someone closes every door save the one that leads to them.
[He doesn't want to be here, in this place, in this time, in this way. He wants to love freely, live loudly and brightly.
But there's only one path open to him now.
Standing, he brushes off his trousers and dusts his hands as well, then offers a hand, palm up, to the Emperor before him.]
I won't concede defeat. Instead, I'll ask to be your jester.
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Wataru’s hand looks so soft, so tempting, and his fingers twitch at his side before he lifts his own palm. ]
Do you really believe that someone like me could be loved?
[ His hand stretches forward, eyes set firm on taking Wataru’s— but he stops short. The desire is so strong, his own desire, but that’s why he wants to fight it. Is this what Wataru wants? Is this some sort of elaborate set up? He doesn’t understand how he could give up now. Is this really it? Did he really successfully point Wataru straight at him? But... ]
Only a fool would, right?
[ His fingers stretch to open his palm, but he doesn’t grab at Wataru yet. He’s lost in thought. ]
A jester...
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[His voice drops low, and Wataru, uncaring for Eichi's hesitation, takes matters up himself. He seizes Eichi's hand, and the contact sends a warmth through him like the rays of the spring sun. He looks at Eichi, really looks at him, and sees so many things. Not a fearful, broken boy in a school uniform, but a powerful political figure, a daimyo, a man of little consequence, all these mantles but with one common thread. He's holding Wataru's hand. Gently sometimes, passionately at others, first meetings, final partings, all in this grasp.
He can't breathe. He's too thrilled, but he's also terrified to see his suspicions confirmed. He could never have escaped Eichi's talons because he was never meant to. What did he do wrong in a previous life, that his eternal love would damage him so? That they would both hurt so much, for so long... Even Eichi, in all his cruelty, deserves better than the twisted claws of fate sinking in.
His voice is hardly above a whisper.]
Eichi. You see it, don't you? I won't ask you to believe it, but the truth is there. I've known you for lifetimes before this one, long and short. And in this one, once again, you have the power to choose.
[He releases Eichi's hand slowly, lowering his own to his side, then steps past the blonde to head back into the school. If Eichi thinks fast enough, he might even be able to answer now.
Will they both be fortune's fools? Wataru is resigned to his fate.]
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His hand is released and words are being spoken before he can even register it. Slowly, he takes in a breath, and his free hand lifts to his chest to try and regulate his breathing after that. What? It was... He'd never listened deeply to any of Keito's rambling about reincarnation, but this was—]
Wataru!
[He calls out the name before his mind can even catch up. Eichi has turned, reaching to brush delicate fingertips at the edge of Wataru's fingers, not catching them so much as hinting at it, grazing by. But his eyes are wide and he exhales shakily.
When he realizes that he's called him something like that without thought, the hand from his chest lifts to cover his lips, briefly, and he looks startled. But slowly, that hand drops a little lower, and he dares a step forward again.]
Just now... that powerful feeling was something that we shared? This isn't a trick. Emotions can't be forced on someone, even if I can't understand them... but this one is quite clear.
"Stay by my side, whatever it takes." I'll continue to close the distance between us if I have to, but if you becoming my "jester" means that you'll stay there without that, then... Please. Hibiki-kun.
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That brush of fingers, soft, gentle, and he breathes Eichi in like the sea breeze, like something welcome and life-giving. The opposite of their previous interactions. Wataru's own breathing steadies, and the tension he's been holding in slowly, slowly melts away. Eichi is... powerless, now. He can't hurt him anymore. Even if Wataru were to walk away now, this would be a flawless victory.
If there's anything Wataru wants to do more than anyone, it's love. To love others, to love his craft, to love himself. It's the only thing that can neutralize Eichi's aggression and render him incapable of forward motion. That's all Wataru needs to do. He needs to make the blonde stop, think, and most importantly feel.]
I believe what we just felt was the truth. Take some time to search yourself for the answer you seek in it, as to what it is, as to what it entails. What you'll have to give up to attain it.
[He turns back to Eichi with a shrug, then a usual theatrical bow.]
Meet me in the third practice room, two days from today. Lunchtime. Come prepared to bare your soul. In turn, I'll give you what you want.
[He straightens.]
The inimitable, unstoppable, invincible, inscrutable: your Wataru Hibiki.
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[He recognizes it in a way Eichi can't grasp, in other words, and it troubles him a little. Is this a trap after all? Is he falling into something he shouldn't? But his heart aches at the thought of pulling back. He's long learned to shut others out and press past that feeling, but can he continue to do that with Wataru?
He watches him and his bow, his hair blowing gently in the wind on the rooftop.]
So long as nothing stops me, then I'll meet you there. [He wants to make it clear he won't be ditching, but this feels like such a heavy thing. There's something tight in his chest telling him he needs to make sure he doesn't lose this. That it's not stolen away.]
Until then... Wataru Hibiki-kun. Take care.
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[And he turns, hair billowing behind him, and enters the school once more. He feels his body start to relax again, his heart rate to slow, his breathing to even out. He was almost terrified of Eichi, terrified of the truth and of their connection, perhaps even their inevitability. Now, he's at some strange kind of peace. He signs away his life tomorrow, in exchange for his happiness, and he hopes that like Beauty and the Beast, he'll find the sweetness within the savagery.
He'll act normal for the rest of the day, go about his lonely business, and bide his time until they meet two days hence.
Two days later, Wataru dresses in his nicest rehearsal warmups, and heads to the third practice room just before the end of their last pre-lunch class period. He wants to feel the oppressive, crushing weight of fear. He wants to revel in uncertainty as he waits for Eichi. In part, he wants to prove that this isn't really fate, and he has an overactive imagination. Magic like this doesn't and can't exist. A bond between two people, impossible to sever, through life and death? Impossible. But he saw the mark on Eichi's chest, and he's seen a representation of Eichi in his dreams for so long that this does feel wholly inevitable.
Still, he wrings his hands a bit, before deciding to stretch and do some yoga as he awaits Eichi.]
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But he arrives, in his normal Yumenosaki uniform, since he's not the sort of person who can attend practices normally, anyway. Shutting the door behind him to make sure Wataru knows he's there, he stares at his stretching form and finds himself feeling warm, wanting to reach out and touch him, to hold him tight and never let go. Something tells him that it's been lifetimes of this longing. The faint memories, the images when he tried to sleep...
He swallows hard and steps forward. As a defense mechanism, he's still holding himself tall, smiling calmly, but... As Wataru had said, he'd prepared to bare his soul. He's prepared for anything.
He did think about it. It angers him that fate may be controlling him, or that he may be playing into someone's palm... but if it's anyone's palm he'd like to be played into, it's Wataru's. He can no longer deny that.]
Um... Hibiki-kun? [And he shows such unusual nervousness and hesitation when it comes to Wataru, as well. Wataru and no one else.]
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Eichi's closer than he wants him to be, but Wataru doesn't step back, conscious of needing to hold his position to hold the last remnants of his power. Eichi won the war; Wataru has just finally won some pyrrhic victories in these last few meetings.
Still, the nervousness apparent in Eichi's tone bodes well. Maybe he wasn't bluffing when he said what he said about wanting to be by Wataru's side. But he's the Emperor, and Wataru the Fool, and he'll play his part until the end. He bows to Eichi at last, acknowledging his dominance without mockery he so easily could have drawn upon if he wanted to.]
So you came, after all~! You're not dressed for it... A shame! I'd thought to merge our hearts as one with warm bodies and high spirits.
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[He doesn't understand Wataru's angle, and so he's closed off in this reply, standing tall, arms folding over his chest. Honestly... it makes him want to blush, but he holds back. He's still in control of this much.]
You've been quite vague in explaining all of this, and yet you seem to understand much more than I do. What's the meaning of this? With this meeting, in particular? What are your plans?
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[Wataru smiles, enigmatic and strange, a hand running in a nervous habit down the braid at his side. It feels like Eichi has come to interrogate, rather than to meet him at some happy midpoint, but he holds the smile as best he can, as if still anticipating a small victory.
Please, please let this be a victory. He can't stand the trials anymore. He'll change courses mid-year if he has to, if this doesn't work out. Or maybe he'll change schools. He's heard good things about a few other choice academies his former peers went to after second year's difficulties.
He raises his chin defiantly, but only a little, trying to stay somewhat friendly.]
Have you come prepared to bare all?
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[For a moment, Eichi hesitates again. Wataru is asking so much of him. It's not something unfair— he'd do the same if he was in his shoes. But that's what worries him. Here he is, an undefeated "Emperor", someone who climbed corpses to the top. Someone with no close attachments, who everyone abandoned. Someone chasing after death, if it means achieving his goal.
But looking straight at Wataru and into his eyes, he sees something so much more than this silly moment. He sees not just the person he's been longing for this entire time, but someone he's longed for for lifetimes. Someone that fate isn't tying him together to, despite how it may seem— but someone that fate is punishing him for, ripping apart from him time and time again.
He wants to stop it. He wants to reach out and hold him.
And so, he relents.]
It will be a difficult thing... [He has to explain that he's struggling, that he can't walk into this so eagerly when everything is at stake. If Wataru uses this, uses his feelings that he may have found out from someone else and burns him to the ground with it, then what does he have left? Nothing. Anyone would be afraid.]
But I am prepared. I decided that early on. No matter what this may be... I'll bare all, as you say.
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[He pirouettes in place and his ponytail swishes behind him, then he scoops up the mat he was stretching on, rolls it up, and places it back in the bin nearby. He's buying time, stalling, making Eichi understand that he will be the one in control of this. It's what he's been longing for, a little control back in his life. He's been so alone, bordering on fearful, and he finally has something in his grasp that might change his fortunes. Will he let it get away? He'll have to see.]
Then, if you're prepared, I'll state my terms. This is, as you can see by my dress, an audition. You're used to those, aren't you? No? Ah, those of us in the theatre world know the trials of auditions perhaps best of all, so I'm fully comfortable with the process. As the one of lower standing, I have no illusions of being the "director" of this production. Rather, should this audition go as I hope, you'll be the one selecting me. You have all the power to turn me away, to find me wanting. I, in turn, have the power to decline the role.
[He adjusts his ponytail.]
I've prepared a monologue, a dance, and a vocal selection. Do you need a script to follow?
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[Eichi feels like everything has been blown away since the moment their hands touched on the roof, but this is something even more wild, isn't it? He's struggling to keep up, like he's being dragged by the collar, and that's as exciting as it is frustrating.]
...I have a feeling that a script wouldn't add any clarity to the situation, necessarily, so there's no need. This sounds as though I'll be the one judging your audition though...? Is that right?
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[Is this an audition, or is this an assisted suicide? Wataru leaves that up for debate. As long as he can keep throwing Eichi curveballs, he'll be fine, he thinks. As long as Eichi never sees him sweat.]
Won't you have a seat in the chair I've prepared for you? [He gestures to one on the far side of the room.] And I can begin with whichever routine you'd like.
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He's not sure, but he wants to see every bit of it. It's hard to even choose, but he makes himself.]
You said you had a dance? [That's his pick.]
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[He pulls his phone from his pocket, disconnects the earbuds, and stashes them in his bag. Then he pulls up a sound file on his phone, one that starts with a series of tempo clicks. But soon enough the music begins, and Wataru takes his place squarely in the middle of the room, directly in front of Eichi.
Eichi might recognize the music, if he thinks back. Wataru's swan song, so to speak. The last time he performed as an idol, thanks to Eichi's destructive tendencies. It was the showdown between Eichi's fine and Wataru, the long haired idol alone on the stage, as his friends watched in horror. The audience tore him limb from limb that day, and rehashing the dance might be akin to putting himself back in that place, but he doesn't seem bothered. His smile is as wide as it was that day, his head held as high. But it lacks elegance, in a track suit.
It lacks emotion at first, too, as he dances the halting movements of the duel section, and he doesn't sing the words that went with it. Instead, he counts pauses, calls steps, focusing on the dance elements entirely, not the song itself. What he's aiming for is to make Eichi's brain fill in the gaps, to recall what little he may of that day, the first day they touched, when a spent Eichi collapsed into Wataru's arms and the magician wished things could be different. The first time he felt a pang of longing when looking at Eichi. Sure, he'd felt a pull the first time their eyes met, but Wataru was, at that time, such a lover! He would feel that pull with anyone exceptional, anyone who might be on his level, who he might've been able to see eye to eye with. Why had this one turned from an ephemeral dream to a walking, brutal nightmare?
He'll dance until the end of the song, or until Eichi stops him, the familiar lines echoing from the phone, with tempo clicks during fine's interludes. He'd had the whole thing perfectly timed from the start, perfectly rehearsed. All he's doing now is showing Eichi just how splendidly he'd danced to the Emperor's tune.]
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He stares hard at this performance, analyzing Wataru's every move, picking up what he's trying to say. The emphasis, the statement. It's cruel, he thinks. Like a revenge... Is that what this is meant to be?
Eichi is still so blind to things like kindness, or guidance. Wataru, just like everyone else, must be using him for something. But what? His thoughts waver on that point, though. He's not sure... He can't tell. It's aggravating.
At least for this, he waits until the end to speak up, and there's no clapping, even if he always enjoys the way Wataru moves his body.]
I'll ask you again, Wataru Hibiki. What's the meaning of all of this? Bringing our minds back to that place and time... What's the point, when it's so deeply engraved for both of us?
If you have a problem with me, then I'd prefer for you to criticize me directly.
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[Eichi's not going to like any of this, Wataru knows. But he has a point to make. That no matter how hard Eichi grips things, no matter how unrelenting his grasp, he must allow autonomy, or he will fall. And he has to show Eichi where he's foundered in the past, because Wataru...
A breath. His chest tightens as he thinks about it. Wataru is to be Eichi's future, isn't he? So let him conjure up ghosts and spirits of the worst kind and kill them off with his enthusiasm. Let him slay the demons that track and would drag Eichi to Hell.]
But if you'd like me to criticize you directly, I'll gladly do so. You see, when I choreographed that dance, I knew I was going to lose. I fed everything into what you wanted, thinking you had it in yourself to be merciful if only I, in my naivete, played along. That that would be the end. You hunted me down like an animal, Eichi Tenshouin. You wounded me, and drove me into this fearful corner. What did you hope to gain? Bare your soul, as promised, and we'll continue.
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that tag killed me for nearly 24 hours
sowwy ;;
it was good death
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