[ as the weather only continues to get cooler, nobu finds himself missing summer more and more. it's easy enough to tell himself that it's because autumn has brought too many changes all at once, and that summer was the last time things felt easy and free. no dorms. no label. (no paparazzi.) just too-long days hopping from his job to a gig or a rehearsal (or both), but spending the rest of his free time idling away around a table with the others.
with hachi.
he struggles to swallow that name down, to call her real name if he ever has to mention her at all. if he can just compact all of their memories together down tightly enough, it might be enough to pack the wound left behind, the void of her absence. he struggles so much that, more than once, left on his own in the narrow bed of his room, he'd held his phone over his face, small screen brighter than should be possible in the dark, thumb hovering over her name in his address book.
what would he even say to her now? how's the new apartment? how's the baby? how's that guy? small talk should be the easiest thing; how many breezy conversations has he had with guests at the inn growing up, or customers looking for their new favorite record? why is it that the only thing he can think to say to her would be an outpouring of grief, of frustration, of guilt, and of hope he can only think is incredibly misplaced, no matter what nana tells him. he's lost. he fumbled the best girl he could've met, all for being too cowardly to fight for her.
and here he lies again, alone in bed after firmly, almost forcefully locking the door in yuri's face. obviously he craves the company, but...not like this. his heart aches today worse than usual, maybe because it's been just about a month since move-in, two months since it all happened. and it's enough to have him imagining the letter icon on his phone flashing on, hachi's name in the from field, subject line starting with his name.
ah, shit, wait—he clicks. he sits up. his eyes widen and he scans the text at least half a dozen times, pinches himself (a little too hard, maybe) to ensure he's not just sleeping or dazed from overwork. well...even if he is, it's better to just reply, right? while he has the courage. it's the least he can do for her, for being braver than he's ever shown her he could be. ]
You don't have anything to apologize for.
You did what's best for you.
[ For your family he writes, then erases. ]
In my heart, you're already forgiven, so don't worry about that, okay?
But, if it's all right with you, I'd like to have a talk about things.
Let me know.
[ the words come a little too easily, need revision, removal, rethinking. what he eventually sends isn't at all what he wanted to say, but it's close enough.
he snaps his phone shut and leaves it on his chest, his arm coming up to cover his face. maybe he'll just fall asleep at last instead of waiting up for a reply that surely won't come. ]
no subject
with hachi.
he struggles to swallow that name down, to call her real name if he ever has to mention her at all. if he can just compact all of their memories together down tightly enough, it might be enough to pack the wound left behind, the void of her absence. he struggles so much that, more than once, left on his own in the narrow bed of his room, he'd held his phone over his face, small screen brighter than should be possible in the dark, thumb hovering over her name in his address book.
what would he even say to her now? how's the new apartment? how's the baby? how's that guy? small talk should be the easiest thing; how many breezy conversations has he had with guests at the inn growing up, or customers looking for their new favorite record? why is it that the only thing he can think to say to her would be an outpouring of grief, of frustration, of guilt, and of hope he can only think is incredibly misplaced, no matter what nana tells him. he's lost. he fumbled the best girl he could've met, all for being too cowardly to fight for her.
and here he lies again, alone in bed after firmly, almost forcefully locking the door in yuri's face. obviously he craves the company, but...not like this. his heart aches today worse than usual, maybe because it's been just about a month since move-in, two months since it all happened. and it's enough to have him imagining the letter icon on his phone flashing on, hachi's name in the from field, subject line starting with his name.
ah, shit, wait—he clicks. he sits up. his eyes widen and he scans the text at least half a dozen times, pinches himself (a little too hard, maybe) to ensure he's not just sleeping or dazed from overwork. well...even if he is, it's better to just reply, right? while he has the courage. it's the least he can do for her, for being braver than he's ever shown her he could be. ]
You don't have anything to apologize for.
You did what's best for you.
[ For your family he writes, then erases. ]
In my heart, you're already forgiven, so don't worry about that, okay?
But, if it's all right with you, I'd like to have a talk about things.
Let me know.
[ the words come a little too easily, need revision, removal, rethinking. what he eventually sends isn't at all what he wanted to say, but it's close enough.
he snaps his phone shut and leaves it on his chest, his arm coming up to cover his face. maybe he'll just fall asleep at last instead of waiting up for a reply that surely won't come. ]