Theme: #21 – Forest
Warnings: Angst, sap, figurative speech, jealous Miyavi.
Pairing: Miyavi (solo, S.K.I.N.)/Reita (the GazettE), mentions of past Uruha (the GazettE)/Reita
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: He’s been going in circles for what feels like forever, and still, he is no closer to Reita than he had been in the beginning.
Comments: I don’t know where this came from, really. Perhaps it’s partly due to listening to Hi no Hikari sae Todokanai Kono Basho de on repeat entirely too much. I wrote this… uhm… about a month ago, maybe? And I’m positing it now since I haven’t had time to write anything else. This is dedicated to adronicus, who is the Miyavi to my Reita. ^.^ The angst doesn’t sound like our boys, but the sap there at the end certainly does. Lyrics at the beginning of the fic are from a translation of Itoshii Hito, which can be found at this website. I apologize for Miyavi’s odd thoughts in this fic, if they are hard to follow. >_>; Clearly, odd thoughts are contagious things. Written for 50stories.
It's not "I could die for you" but rather I've decided "I'll live for you"
Of course together with you too, now, forever, and ever
The worst feeling in the world, Miyavi has decided, is being less than a foot away from your lover and feeling like you are the only person in the room. That is how Miyavi frequently feels, with Reita. Alone—not part of the one person whom he holds closest to his heart.
Months ago, when his relationship with Reita first began, Miyavi had felt like he had been thrown into a vast forest devoid of light and without a single trail to follow. He had not been given a map or any sort of advice on how to navigate this forest, and there had been no-one there to hold his hand. However, he had been determined to make his own way – forge his own trail – and he had kept the knowledge in his heart that he would find Reita (the real Reita—not the one that the bassist showed to cameras).
Now, he is weary from his travels, and despite Reita’s current physical proximity, Miyavi feels that he is no closer to this man than he had been to begin with. He has tried and tried, but to no avail. He has wandered in circles countless times with no guidance, only to wind up nowhere, still trapped and alone and cold.
He has learned along the way that there has been another whom has been in this forest—Uruha. Uruha had been the one to first touch Reita’s heart (a place Miyavi believes he has not yet ventured close to, though not due to lack of trying), and Miyavi knows that Uruha would have no trouble finding his way through this metaphorical forest. He also knows that he could probably ask the guitarist for advice, but he is too proud to do such a thing. He is too stubborn.
Uruha and Reita are still very close, and Miyavi supposes that this makes perfect sense. They were always best friends, so why should things be any different now? Miyavi cannot intrude upon what they have, and he knows that Uruha will always hold a special place in Reita’s heart, but…
He can’t help the jealousy. He wants Reita to trust him like he trusts Uruha. He wants Reita to smile for him like he smiles for Uruha.
He can’t help the helplessness, either. The sorrow, the confusion. The negative emotions within him have a symbiotic relationship: they feed off of each other and continue to grow until they threaten to consume their host (such emotions can be just like parasites). It is all becoming very tiring, and Miyavi does not like being lost like this. He does not like not being able to find his own way.
“Where are you, Miya?” Reita suddenly asks, rolling over onto his stomach and gazing questioningly down at Miyavi. “You’re here physically, but you… you’re a thousand miles away, aren’t you?”
The questions come as a surprise, catching Miyavi off-guard. He searches Reita’s face – his eyes, specifically – and then looks away. “It’s dark here, Rei,” he answers cryptically, voice whisper-soft. “I don’t like it at all. I’ve been going in circles for what feels like forever, and I don’t feel any closer to where I want to be.”
“Are you lost?” Reita asks, voice equally as soft, and again, Miyavi is surprised. How can Reita possibly understand the meaning behind Miyavi’s words? But that isn’t the end of the surprise. Reita adds to it even more by saying: “Because if you are, I’m lost with you.”
Reita’s hand is on Miyavi’s. Miyavi makes no move to entwine their fingers, nor does he try to pull away. “I’ve been lost for a long time. And no, you are not here with me.”
“Why are you lost?” Reita’s thumb brushes lightly over Miyavi’s knuckles—a slight distraction. “What is it that you’re looking for?” More questions, both easy and yet difficult to answer.
“I’m lost because I can’t find a way to reach my destination, though I’ve tried.” Miyavi sighs, not daring to meet Reita’s gaze as he answers the second question: “I am looking for you, and I can’t find you. You’re hiding from me, eluding me.”
“Miyavi,” Reita says seriously, “I would never hide from you. I have not been hiding. You think I have doors that are closed to you but open to others? You think I take paths that I don’t want you to follow? There are no doors, Miya. Not with you. And there are no places that I want to go without you.”
It’s unfair, how Reita can understand him so well, even when he feels like he is making no sense at all. It’s one of the things that Miyavi loves so much about him, but it’s also sometimes one of the things that he doesn’t like, because no matter how well Reita knows him (he happily bares all that he is for Reita), he sometimes feels that Reita is a complete stranger and that he does not know the bassist at all.
Miyavi tries to take comfort in Reita’s words, but he can’t. There’s still the nagging feeling that they are over a thousand miles apart. There’s still the feeling that Miyavi has been trying for naught, even though he knows that he probably shouldn’t feel this way, after what Reita has just said, but he can’t seem to help it.
There’s something else, too, that Miyavi does and does not want to talk about, because he does not want Reita to know of his petty jealousy (which only adds to the problem), but the words leave him before he can even think of stopping them: “You still love him.” A statement, not a question, hovering somewhere between accusation and fact.
“Is that what this is about?” Reita asks. “Is that why you’ve been acting this way? Because you feel like… like I still have feelings for ‘Ruha? You feel like you’re second best?”
Reita’s words hit so close to home that Miyavi nearly cringes, inwardly cursing and hating again that Reita knows him so damn well. But, the jealousy is only partly (mostly) the problem—not the entire problem itself. It feeds Miyavi’s insecurity. It only strengthens the belief that he cannot reach Reita, not like Uruha can. Maybe it’s childish and irrational, but feelings do not care if they are labeled as childish or irrational. Name-calling does not cause feelings to disappear.
“It’s a large part of the problem, yes,” Miyavi replies. “I don’t enjoy feeling like he touches places in your heart that I don’t. I don’t enjoy feeling like he is never away from you, while I feel like I can never find you, metaphorically speaking.” It’s deeper than the physical—more than just sight and sound and touch and taste and smell. “You haven’t denied or agreed with me. Do you love him?” And now, it is a question, one that Miyavi does not want Reita to answer but he needs to know the answer because if Reita does... Miyavi cannot keep doing this.
“Well,” Reita drawls sounding completely at ease, his attitude suddenly out of place considering the subject, “I suppose I do, since he’s my best friend and I kind of have no choice but to care for him.”
Anger, fresh and sharp and almost painful, hits Miyavi in waves and he tries to pull away but Reita will not let go of his hand. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it. Tell me the truth, Reita.”
“I know,” Reita says, calmly but not cheekily this time. “I know what you mean, Miya, and I have no idea why you feel the need to ask such a thing. I love him, but not as I once did. The past is the past, you know, and I don’t live in the past. You are here, with me, in the present. I’d like for you to be here in the future, too.”
The anger ebbs somewhat, but not the uncertainty. It’s a good answer—a beautiful answer, but it still isn’t enough. It’s still dark, and Miyavi still feels lost and alone. “Would you die for him?”
Reita does not hesitate to reply: “If it came to that, then, yes, I would die for him. If someone pointed a gun at him and said that it was him or me, I’d give my life for his.”
His answer isn’t exactly unexpected, but it still stings, a little. It should be enough, but Miyavi still needs to know: “Would you die for me?”
Reita smiles then, brilliant and beautiful, and it makes Miyavi’s heart ache, but his answer is not what Miyavi wants to hear. “I would not die for you, Miya.”
A deeper cut, searing pain, and Miyavi can’t think past it, can’t find words to say. He doesn’t understand how Reita can still be smiling, after telling him something like that, and all Miyavi can think is that he really is second best in Reita’s eyes.
But Reita isn’t finished: “I wouldn’t die for you. Instead, I’d live for you. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?”
Shock replaces the hurt and Miyavi can’t seem to breathe. Lyrics flash through his mind but he can’t quite focus on them, and he can’t see anything but Reita’s smile and his own stupidity. Stupid. Stupid. He’s been so stupid, and for what?
He’s been wrong this whole time, and he’s never been happier to be incorrect.
Relief seeps into Miyavi, though he can also feel a blush coloring his cheeks, and said blush is due to shame. “I’ve been such an idiot, haven’t I?” he mumbles.
“Yes, you have,” Reita replies, and he doesn’t sugar-coat it—he gives Miyavi the blunt truth. “But I forgive you for it. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
All the pieces fall into place and suddenly it seems so very easy. It’s easy to link his fingers with Reita’s. It’s easy to pull Reita down for a kiss with his other hand. It’s easy to let the ridiculous, unneeded jealousy dissolve into nothingness. It’s easy to let the insecurity and the sorrow go, because Miyavi now knows that he has no reason to feel jealous or insecure or upset. He has every reason to feel like he is flying, soaring—every reason to believe that he is exactly where he belongs.
He may still be in this dense forest, but he is no longer alone. Reita is holding his hand, walking beside him, and Miyavi does not need a map or compass or path, not with Reita here. Reita has been here all along, within reach, and Reita has found Miyavi as opposed to Miyavi finding Reita. Miyavi is no longer lost.
It isn’t dark anymore, either. There is light here, and it is warm and comforting. There is laughter and love and hope and a future.
Even though he still feels like hiding in a hole somewhere due to his own stupidity and his own childish actions, Miyavi believes that this – this moment, this revelation, this gift - is perfect, in its own way.
And if it isn’t perfect, then it’s pretty damn close.
Right. So, hopefully that wasn’t too odd or too difficult to follow. It seemed very much like something Miyavi would think of, after I read the translation of Hi no Hikari sae Todokanai Kono Basho de. If you read the translations of his journal, you’ll notice that he does think some pretty deep thoughts. I wanted to try to capture that here, even though in this case, his train of thought is based on jealousy and the idea that Reita does not hold Miyavi as close to his heart as he holds Uruha.
Of course, the fun in this was proving him wrong at the end. I’m glad I wrote it this way, instead of making it completely angst-filled. Aside from that, neither Reita-muse nor Miyavi-muse wanted it to end with angst. XD