Joining You
Author’s Notes: Blue Text = memory; Italics = song lyrics
The redhead sat on the floor, back to the wall, staring at the symbols in his calculus book, which were, quite literally, Greek to him. He sighed, letting his head lull back against the wall, wishing that he hadn’t waited till the night before the exam to actually study. He was so toast.
The phone on the desk rang. The youth glared at the offender, it’s obnoxious clamor not aiding his growing headache. Standing with a groan, Ren plodded across the room and picked up the receiver. “Moshi Moshi?”
“Ren?”
He blinked. “Aa…?”
“This is Okabe-san, Satoru’s mother. I need you to come over right away.”
Dear darling, your mom (my friend) left a message on my machine
She was frantic, saying you were talking crazy
Ren blinked, confused by the woman’s nervous tone. “Nanda? Is something wrong?”
“He’s locked himself in his room. I can’t get him to talk to me. I can hear him crying. Something’s really gone wrong this time…I think he needs someone to talk to…”
That you wanted to do away with yourself
I guess she thought that I’d be a perfect resort
Because we’ve had this inexplicable connection since our youth
He sprinted down the side walk, heedless of the bodies he shoved aside and the rain that beat upon his face. Dammit, Gaku…what are you up to now…? Before him, the gate to his friend’s neighborhood reared into view. Stopping to catch his breath, he panted, watching as his exhalations billowed before him in little clouds before disappearing into the chill air.
Moments later, he arrived, out of breath and soaked to the bone, on the Okabe family’s doorstep.
Yes, they’re in shock
They are panicked
Stripping off his drenched shoes and coat, he bolted for his friend’s bedroom door but stopped short, surprised by the number of family members gathered outside of it, some of them pleading, some demanding, some crying out to the silent inhabitant. With a barely restrained cry of frustration, Ren turned and ran into an adjacent room. Throwing open the window, he leaned out into the rain.
You and your chronic
Them and their drama
You this embarrassment
Us in the middle of this delusion
There, sitting on the balcony connected to his room, Gackt sat, cross-legged, staring up into the sky. Rain pattered down against his face, melting with the tears that already streaked it. Tears from Heaven…Ren mused, not at all swayed by the dramatic scene. Stop PMSing, dammit.
Taking a deep breath, Ren squeezed out of the narrow window and onto the tiny ledge that ran along the siding. With the adrenaline racing through his body, he shuffled across the protrusion to where his friend sat, oblivious. Once his feet were safely on stable ground, the saturated redhead walked briskly up to his friend and slapped him.
If we were our bodies
If we were our futures
If we were our defenses I’d be joining you
The other toppled backward, stunned, staring up at this intruder who infringed upon his self-hatred. “What the hell --?”
If we were our culture
If we were our leaders
If we were our denials I’d be joining you
“Don’t start, Gaku. Don’t start.” Kneeling, Ren wrapped his short arms around the other. “…and don’t stop …” As he pulled back, he looked into the youth’s eyes. “Don’t be sad anymore, nya. Not when there’s so much more to life…to everything…”
I remember vividly a day years ago
We were camping
You knew more than you thought you should know
You said, “I don’t want ever to be brainwashed”
A few years later, Gackt lay on his back on his futon in his small apartment, relishing in the afterglow. Curled up beside him, Ren lay sleeping soundly. Running his hands through the red strands, the elder man sighed.
Memories of the previous few hours rolled upon his mind like distant waves. Running his tongue over dry lips, he could still taste of the other’s heated skin upon them…
You were intense
You were uncomfortable in your own skin
Gackt felt the other shiver in anxiety, the chill wind caressing burning flesh, as he pressed his lithe body against him…inside him…So tight…So good…He moved as the smaller man panted, whimpered, writhed in ecstasy, his blunt fingernails dragging red lines against the elder’s back.
You were thirsty
The shorter man gasped his name. The end was near…so close…so close…so--
But mostly you were beautiful
In flash of light, they climaxed, collapsing against the floor, entwined in one another.
If we were our nametags
If we were our rejections
If we were our outcomes I’d be joining you
Shivering, Gackt blinked rapidly, fighting back the urge to relive the events once again. But sleep was near…
If we were our indignities
If we were our successes
If we were our emotions I’d be joining you
Turning to look upon his slight companion, he pressed a soothing kiss to the other’s parted lips. Ren sighed and pressed closer. Gackt smiled and yawned, his eyes slipping shut as he surrendered to sleep, content for the first time in a long time…
You and I
We’re like four-year-olds
We want to know why and how come about everything
We want to reveal ourselves at will
And speak our minds
“So you’re leaving, nya?”
At the timid question, Gackt pivoted. The redhead looked dwarfed by his bass, which he had been plucking at for the last hour. “Yes, I am.” Ren didn’t answer, but continued to tune his guitar. “Are you…angry?”
And never talk small and be intuitive
And question mightily and find god
The plucking stopped and the other looked up. Their dark eyes locked. After a moment, Ren placed his bass in its case, stood, walked the few steps between them, and wrapped his arms around Gackt’s neck, burying his face in the other’s shoulder.
My tortured beacon
We need to find like-minded companions
“Not angry, nya – never angry. It’s just…” He pulled away and looked up. “When you get famous and make your millions and slip with thousands of women --” Gackt laughed a bit at the last, “—You…you won’t forget about me…will you?”
If we were their condemnations
If we were their projections
If we were our paranoias I’d be joining you
The fear in the shorter man’s eyes was unmistakable – tears welled in his dark eyes as his voice gave out on him. It pulled at Gackt’s heart. Taking the other in his arms again, he whispered, “I could never forget you Ren…never…”
If we were our incomes
If we were our obsessions
If we were our afflictions I’d be joining you
He was leaving Malice Mizer. It was almost too hard to believe. Years before, he had abandoned Cains:feel in Kyoto. Now, he was abandoning Malice Mizer – the illusion he dreamed of, the band he rebuilt, the people…friends who understood him – so he could fly solo.
“Why am I doing this…?” he asked the bland walls of the apartment. When no answer came, he sighed and collapsed boneless on the couch. “What now…?” May HE’D know… Gackt picked up the phone and began dialing.
We need reflection
We need a really good memory
Feel free to call me a little more often
The phone rang twice before he picked it up. “Moshi moshi?”