Theme: This chapter is based on theme #39 – Ship.
Rating: PG overall
Pairing(s): Miyavi (solo, S.K.I.N.)/Reita (the GazettE) is the main pairing. Ruki/Kai (the GazettE) is hinted at, as is Aoi/Uruha (the GazettE).
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: Reita’s bandmates aren’t blind: they can see perfectly well what’s going on between Reita and Miyavi… perhaps even better than Reita himself.
Comments: And here’s chapter three. Only one more chapter to go after this. :/ This chapter takes place during the latter part of the ninth chapter of Transition. Finally, you get to read Aoi’s POV. The concept for this—the “ship of fools” was an idea that I actually took from my nursing classes, believe it or not. When we were learning about mental health last semester, we were told that in the Middle Ages, mentally ill people were sent out on ships to “find their lost sanity”. For some reason, it inspired me. XD Written for 50stories.
Chapter One: Lovesickness
Chapter Two: The Effects of Denial
Did you know that back in the Middle Ages, people who were mentally ill were sent out to sea on sailing boats to search for their lost rationality? That’s where the term ‘ship of fools’ originated from. Yeah, I actually read about stuff like that – you know how strange stuff always seems to interest me. Anyway, as I was saying… Of course, that was way back when people didn’t truly understand what mental illness is. Throughout the years, we’ve made serious progress with mental illness, and we don’t use that particular method of ‘treatment’ anymore, as is obvious.
Although, I honestly think that all of us lose sight of our sanity at some point in our lives, or perhaps even at many points in our lives. And no, I am not referring to those of us – and I use the term ‘us’ loosely… in a general sort of way – who have actual medically diagnosed problems such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder; I mean those of us who are not diagnosed, and yet feel that we have really gone insane. As I said earlier, I think we all feel this way sometimes. I think you’re feeling this way right now, what with all that’s been going on. You just… you look so incredibly lost without Miyavi, Reita. And no, I’m not saying that Miyavi’s your sanity… but I think that at least part of your sanity left along with him. Just look at the way you’ve been acting lately. You’ve been withdrawn, you’ve been snapping at us – taking your anger and your emotional pain out on us. I know you don’t mean to. Uruha knows that you don’t mean to as well, but that knowledge doesn’t make your words any less harsh, or any less hurtful. You just… you aren’t yourself anymore, at all.
It’s times like these when I believe that the whole ‘ship of fools’ thing is actually a really good idea. Not in the literal sense of course, but in the metaphorical sense. You need a ship, Reita – a nice, sturdy ship that can handle the rough waters and take you to where you need to go… Take you to where you should be.
That’s why I’ve finally decided to say something about the way things have been going between you and Miyavi. It’s about time somebody said something that can hopefully help you in some way (that’s what you really want, right?); it’s about time for you to get some sense knocked into that thick skull of yours. That someone is going to have to be me, it seems. Guess I’ve been quiet long enough. Knowing you, you probably think I’ve taken a vow of silence or something when it comes to your relationship with Miyavi. I guess, when you actually think about it, I’ve done just that, in a sense. I haven’t breathed a word – not really. Of course, I’ve worried about you and Miyavi just like Uruha has. I haven’t shown any disapproval, because I’ve never disapproved of your relationship with him up until now (and I’m only saying this because things aren’t going well between the two of you right now). I want to see you happy again, Reita – we all do – and I think for you to be happy, truly happy, things need to be fixed between you and Miyavi. Things can’t be fixed if the right steps aren’t taken. Things can’t be fixed if you’re not heading in the right direction. It’s about time for you to get yourself a good ‘ship’ that can do exactly that – take you in the right direction.
I think that maybe, just maybe, I can be your ship. That is, if you’ll stop being so damn stubborn about all of this and open your eyes.
The look on your face when you enter the restaurant is absolutely priceless – no doubt very similar to the look that you probably sported when I called you earlier and asked you to meet me here. You’re more than a little surprised, and I suppose you have every right to be, considering how quiet I’ve been when it comes to your relationship with Miyavi – at least, up until now.
You move to stand in front of the small table I’m sitting at, and when I gesture for you to sit down, you pull out a chair and you do just that. For a few minutes, we chat about what we should have for lunch. We eventually decide on pizza – half pepperoni and half supreme, because you don’t like vegetables and I do like vegetables. The waitress takes our order and then disappears, returning shortly with our drinks – coke for both of us.
We are silent for quite some time, several minutes, I’m sure (at least); but the silence seems to stretch on for a small eternity, and I am determined to let you be the first to talk. You’ve always been the type to never enjoy long silences when it comes to conversation, and I know that sooner or later, you’ll crack and speak.
You do crack, and the first words out of your mouth are, “Is Uruha-kun okay? He barely said two words to me during practice the other day. I know I upset him, and I wish I hadn’t said what I said, but I know I can’t take those words back.”
I half-expected you to ask about Uruha, but I’m not entirely sure how to answer your question. I avert my eyes for a moment, thinking. Uruha’s still upset with you, as he has every right to be, but what you did isn’t something he can’t forgive. I answer your question truthfully as I settle my gaze back on you again, as opposed to the table. “He’s still upset with you, Rei-kun. He’s upset that you would think he’d be happy that you’re hurting.”
You tell me that you were upset when you said those words to Uruha. I think you want to say more, but I interrupt you, telling you that I understand and that I didn’t come here to talk about Uruha (if I were to say that in front of him, he’d probably feign a pout and bat those long eyelashes of his at me in a sort of flirty manner, and ask me to say something nice about him instead… not that that is a difficult task in the least). You blink at me, confusion written all over your face as you begin folding and unfolding a napkin over and over again, asking me – and sounding just as confused as you look – why we’re here and what I want to talk about.
I tell you that I’m here to talk about what’s going on between you and Miyavi, and you instantly look away, focusing on your napkin (which you are still folding and unfolding) instead. I then tell you that you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, and that we can talk about something else to take your mind off of it if you like. Although, truth be told, I don’t want to talk about anything else, not really.
You don’t reply, and I get a little impatient with your silence and grow annoyed with all the napkin folding and unfolding. I tell you that I won’t force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, and I take the napkin away so that you can’t fiddle with it anymore. I tell you that I think talking about it might do you some good.
I think you actually start to say something, but then the waitress arrives with our pizza, momentarily distracting us both. When the waitress leaves, you speak. “I love him,” you blurt out, and though the statement doesn’t surprise me at all, you act like you’re spilling some huge secret. You reach for a slice of the pepperoni half of the pizza and take a bite out of it, no longer meeting my gaze. I think you might even be blushing. Now that is surprising, but I don’t comment on the pink tinge that is coloring your face.
“How long have you loved him?” I ask.
You take a large gulp of your coke, and answer, “A while now.” You still won’t look at me.
“You never told him,” I say, being very careful to make sure that it doesn’t sound like I’m asking you, because I’m not. You don’t answer regardless, and I continue. “Why didn’t you ever tell him?” I’m trying to steer you, Reita. You probably don’t understand that just yet, but I hope you will by the end of our conversation.
You tell me that you wanted to tell him how you feel about him, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You even tell me that you never wanted to love him. Well, love isn’t a planned thing, Reita. You ought to know that by now. You’re looking at me as though you expect some sort of sympathy from me, but you won’t find it – not for that.
I’m upset with you. I’m disappointed in you, and I show it. “Will you stop being such a fucking coward, Reita?” I ask you, and perhaps there’s more force in the tone of my voice than I had meant for there to be, but I don’t really care. I slam my hand down on the table and glare at you, and you jump a little, no doubt startled. “Stop trying to run from this! We all knew how you felt already, because we could tell! The only person who never knew is the one who needed to know it most, and you never had the fucking decency to tell him!”
“You all knew?” you ask, sounding very meek and also surprised.
I say that yes, we all knew, and that we probably knew before even you yourself knew. I tell you that just because you don’t want to love him doesn’t mean that you can’t just not love him, and my voice softens as I continue, telling you that if you had told Miyavi how you feel for him from the beginning, neither of you would be hurting right now.
We discuss Miyavi for a little longer – you ask me how I know that he’s still upset, and I answer you truthfully. He is just as upset about this as you are, Reita. He’s miserable, just like you are. You explain to me that you’ve been trying: you’ve been calling him and leaving him messages, but he won’t answer his phone and he won’t return your calls, nor will he see you.
Ah! This - this - is the moment that I’ve been waiting for. It’s my chance to guide you properly – my chance to help you find your ‘lost sanity’. I smile softly. “You’re not leaving him the right messages. You’re not telling him the right words.”
You frown at me, again clearly confused. “Not… not telling him the right words? What do you mean?”
I grab a slice of the supreme pizza, taking a bite of it before telling you that you should stop running and tell him how you really feel. I go on to say that Miyavi very well could be your one true love, as cliché as I know it sounds. You won’t find out if he is or if he isn’t if you don’t try, though, will you?
You ask me what might happen if the two of you can’t work things out. I honestly can’t give you the answer to that, Reita. The only thing I can tell you is that you’ll at least know you tried, and that is exactly what I do tell you.
Finally, finally, it seems that you’re beginning to understand. It would seem that you are indeed finding your reason, your sanity… whatever you want to call it. You tell me that you never imagined that you would ever wind up in a situation like this with another guy, and I quote another well-known cliché, the whole ‘love is blind’ thing. As silly as it is, I believe that it’s true.
There is another long silence in which you seem to be thinking over everything that has been said thus far. This silence is not an uncomfortable one, though, and for that, I am glad. Finally, you speak again. “Thank you,” you say. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting you to say something about all of this.”
I shake my head, telling you that you’re great and you deserve to be happy, and that all of us want you to be happy. I take a sip of my drink, adding that you can feel free to come and talk to me if ever you need me.
You grin and nod. “I’ll be sure to do that from now on.”
From that moment on, our lunch is nothing but pleasant. We laugh like a couple of dorks (or rather, we laugh like the dorks that we are), and I must admit… it’s really nice to hear you laugh so genuinely again.
And you know, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I’m sorta… a compass instead of a ship - pointing you in the right direction instead of trying to carry you to your destination.
I suppose it doesn’t really matter, though. Ship or compass – I’m just happy that you finally seem to be handling these rough waters somewhat better than you were before the start of this conversation.
… I feel oddly accomplished, to be honest.
~TO BE CONTINUED~