txrmxnxtxd

[txrmxnxtxd]

                                                              ● 碧い雷会 ●

                                                  Fire and ice, pride and honor.

                                    ● Circle ● Inbox ● Enemies of The Matsuoka Ring ● 

#boost; #we have moved!

[txrmxnxtxd]

What would be the fun if I were easy? Hm? [‘he asked, allowing the arms to wind around his waist. The playful nip made him tilt his head away from the younger male] Yes, JunJun? 

Nothing I suppose. It's winning the game that makes it fun after all. [ ; he chuckled a bit, displeased when the other moved his head away of course but it was expected. ] Hongki-ah stop being mean. [ ; he cooed as letting his hands slip up along the male's stomach.] 

#svndicxte #resp;code

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" Why the fuck are you so stupidly stubborn?" He grumbled. " How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry? And I told you to tell me how to make it up to you, you haven't said anything else yet. I'm bad at this stuff what the hell do you expect me to do?" He says, rubbing at his forehead. 

Hongki returned the glare with an unimpressed glance. “I”m still mad at you for being gone. You haven’t made it up to me.” 

#svndicxte #resp;code

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" またね、浜崎春 " — 20th of June 2010 ( Memories of 吉田匠 )

— There is the tremble of his fingertips, speaking of just how much his soul is protesting against this separation. The usual playful gleam in his eyes has been out for days. Days he has spent erasing himself from every single corner of his own home. Every little trace. Things he can’t bring with him. Precautions in case someone would ever come to look for him, find the roots to his existence. All of it, will be burnt the very hour he leaves the city. The moment the airplane lifts and he leaves an entire life behind. Cindered dust. But there is still one more thing he has to finish, and the closer he gets to it, the more his heart races. It hurts to think of, that he’s about to leave so much behind, someone who needs him more than anyone else. Or so he would like to believe. His parents never seemed devoted in the same way, as this particular person had, which was even more of a reason to protest. But he doesn’t, doesn’t speak a word. Doesn’t utter a single complaint. Even as his feet have stopped in their tracks, now when he stands before the very same school he had been attending a few years back — the very same one where they share so many memories that Takumi can’t even begin to count them, he remains quiet and calm. Although the time spent together within these walls had been during his senior year, they had still done so many things together here. It made his eyes sting for a moment, tears threatening to spill in his moment of recognition, something he pushed back with all the force he could muster. His classes would end soon. Soon, Takumi would have to face Haru and tell him what was about to happen. He really, really didn’t want to.

The stream of students is as large as he remembers it to be, hues scanning each and every bit of the moving crowd with partial ease. Not only because he’s more than a full head taller than most of them, but also because he knows how to distinct features in manners different from many others. And missing out on spotting Haru, would be as close to impossible as anything. But even though he knows, he almost hopes he won’t lay his eyes upon him. Hopes he’ll slip out of his fingers. Which he did not, of course. Much to his own dismay. Spotting that slightly bushy hair, the way his slim body moves, it only takes a second to recognize him, and it only made the lump in Takuim’s stomach grow larger. But he still smiles and waves like he always does. And of course, he’s met by that bright expression that he loves so desperately; treasures wordlessly. It’s all he ever wants to see, especially now, when he knows their time is running out into the sand.

“ こんにちわ 浜崎くん。”He says with a playful grin, always playing a little with formalities, and therefore cordially greeted with a bright uttering of “吉田先輩！” It makes Takumi’s heart thump a bit more quickly within the confinements of his chest. But he’s masking his own raging emotions with laughter and smiles, like he always does. “ 一緒にアイスクリームを食べに 行かない? “ He flashes another smile as the other nods rather excitedly in response to his proposition. This is the least he can do, is it not? Make a moment like this a bit more memorable than it would be otherwise. Offering a little bit of time, to make this moment special. And besides, he really hasn’t figured out how to say goodbye yet.

And as usually, when they hang around the school gates together, they receive their usual amount of stares. Because “ Yoshida-senpai is here for Hamasaki-kun again!?” The girls mutter as always. It always makes the older of the two laugh. It is silly, really. And he wishes they’d stop expressing their own disappointment. Which in the end, leads him to giving them one last display if faked interest. A simple wave of his hand and a smile has always been enough to send them on their way. Today is no different. It’s the last time he’d ever see them, and he says goodbye to them gladly. At least.

They visit their usual place accordingly, order the same sets of parfaits as they always do. And they laugh together as Haru tells him all of the things that go on in school these days. And fo each passing minute, Takumi’s chest feels tighter; constrictive in a manner he doesn’t want to familiarize with. Because he has to say it soon, and he does. When they’re both perched upon that set of swings outside the place where he used to live only a few hours back.

“今日、私は韓国に行く。明日から あそこ に住んでいる。多分せんせん帰らない。 前に話さなくて、ごめんね。” 

His voice is wavery — more shaky than ever and he can’t even look at the younger properly anymore. Out of fear, because he’s not sure of what he’ll be facing.

“ 何？” 

Takumi bites his lip, because the way Haru speaks indicates both surprise and growing bouts of devastation ; despair. But he doesn’t want to repeat himself, not like this. And in the end, he just looks up, lifts his head to rest brown hues upon his slender frame. Keeping brown irises covered with blond bangs of course, as to not let the younger see how much of a problem this is to him as well. How much it actually hurts him. Because he isn’t supposed to know.

“ どうして？” 

He flinches, because he’s not entirely prepared for such a question. Stupid perhaps, since it is the standard one to ask. Luckily he already has a proper answer at hand, the same one he has used for his parents a few days earlier. The same lie he fed them so easily. It is so much more difficult this time. “仕事だから。” He responds almost monotonically, trying to keep the words from dying in his throat. It’s followed by a second of silence, and then the prominent sound of sobbing. His heart breaks at that moment, and even if it’s hard he moves. Stands for a moment before he brings himself to crouch before the younger’s swing. Hands mindlessly resting upon slim thighs. Just like he used to do when they were younger, and the other kids were mean, he raises gentle fingers to move them through soft strands of hair. “ ハル、 ハル 泣かないで。” 

“ 泣かないで。” 

He repeats is almost desperately, voice close to breaking with every single syllable he pronounces. He doesn’t want things to end like this, desperately wants to make these tears into that same smile he holds so precious. But he can’t, he can’t and he hates it. Hates himself, for waiting so long to say anything. He can’t even begin to imagine, what life will be like when they can’t see each other anymore. But it surely doesn’t stop him from closing in on the younger, standing up and tugging him along, a few steps back. For the simple sake of giving him the tightest of hugs he has performed in years.

“ 泣かないで、ハル。毎日電話するやメッセージを書くね。” He urges quietly against soft strands of dark hair, the boy’s head tucked safely beneath his chin. Spending these last few moments, inhaling that scent he has grown so fond of for the past few years ; lets his fingers splay over the familiar curve of a back he might never lay his hands upon again. Because once he enters Korea, crosses that border, getting out and re-entering Japan will be difficult. Not only because they’ll be more busy than ever, but also because he has an entirely new identity he needs to build up. For safety, and to make him even more difficult to trace.

Eventually however, the sobbing fades to gentle sniffles. Stills quietly. But Takumi doesn’t let go, not just yet. He’s not ready to let go yet. Because the moment he does, he will have to leave, or he’ll shatter too. Not yet. Not until the sun has set behind the mountainside, that’s when he releases Haru from his grip and steps back, as darkness envelopes them both.

“ 帰たほうがいい、ね。” He mumbles, although he doesn’t exactly believe a bedroom filled with happy memories will make any of this any better. “ 私は空港へ行かなきゃいけないんだよ。”  He mumbles a moment later, slowly pulling back even further, letting that hand he has left upon the younger boy’s shoulder slip away entirely. It bears against him, so intensely, to leave like this. But he smiles either way, just as he had earlier, runs his fingers through Haru’s hair like he always does.

“ またね。”

Takumi utters gently before he turns away. Before his facade breaks and his expression turns grim.

‘ I’ll see you around. ‘

Because goodbyes are too definite.

And because in a promise, there is always hope.

“ またね、浜崎春。” 

#amaiharu #self;para #[memento;] #ace;

[txrmxnxtxd]

He frowned slightly when he saw the other's face twisted in agony. Reaching up, he wiped his tears gently away from his eyelashes. "Then tell me your name, the real one." Woojin shook his head. "I don't care about that. Let's forget all about them," he murmured, tugging the younger closer to him. His frown turned into a small smile when the boy leaned in and pressed a shy kiss to his lips. Closing his eyes, Woojin pressed their mouths fully together, lengthening the kiss.

— He lowers his gaze for a moment after familiar digits have wiped away the tears he still wants to deny. They are wrong, so wrong. And he shouldn't cry over something like this. What would Raiden say if he knew? The guilt feels like a stone in the pit of his stomach, but he can't help it either can he? Emotions can't be controlled no matter how much one wants to. " Shizuka Takayuki." He states silently. " Korean name, Oh Sungjong. " He then adds, peering at the other without much confidence. " But please call me Yuki. " He smiles a little bit after that, when he's tugged closer and when Woojin smiles too. It eases a bit of the lingering sting from the chaos they've created together. His eyes fall shut once more, when Woojin decides to continue the little given initiative and Takayuki welcomes it, of course he does. If anything, he's just happy to have him back in his arms. To see he's still alive after so long. He responds well, to the way Woojin kisses him, sneaks his arms around his neck to drag his fingers through dark strands of hair like he always does. He loves it, and he knows Woojin does too.  

#resp;yuki #svndicxte #question:response

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Woojin closed his eyes, sighing into the other's ear. "I don't deserved you. I pulled the trigger, I didn't know what else to do." The ache returned to his chest as the younger buried his face in it. He ran his fingers through blond hair. "Don't lie to me, please. Just don't lie to me again." Grabbing the boy's chin, he tilted his face up, looking into his eyes. "I hate seeing you cry." He pressed their foreheads together, close to leaning in and kissing him.

—He looks into those warm, dark eyes when his head is tilted upwards, when trying to hide just grows futile enough for him to actually display the way his features have twisted in sheer agony. He blinks rapidly, to get the remnants of his tears away from his lashes at least. " You don't even know my name, Woojin-ah. You shouldn't want me. I'm not good for you." He mumbles, when they're so close he can feel the male's breath upon his own skin, eyelids slanting. He leans in the last bit, because he can't stop himself, seeking soft lips with his own,letting them brush together just faintly. 

#resp;yuki #svndicxte #question:response

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Woojin smiled when the younger relaxed against him. "It's okay, I deserved to be shot," he whispered back, truly believing he did. "That man said you would've never shot me if our positions had been reversed." The olded frowned slightly when he heard the sniffle, pulling back to see the boy's face. "Are you crying?"

— Another time, another moment of silence on his part. Because he can't believe Seiji has actually said something like that. Because it sounds so unlike him, but also because it probably means that he knows exactly what's going on. Which on some part makes sense. He has far more experience than most of them after all. " I wouldn't have.." He mumbles. " I would have told you to run. " He adds a moment later, shaking his head a bit before hiding it against the older's chest, even after he pulls back he merely follows the motion to keep prying eyes away from his tear-stained cheeks. "N-no." He mutters, choking on his own sobs. "" W-why would I be crying?"

#resp;yuki #[ he is such an idiot ] #svndicxte #question:response

[txrmxnxtxd]

"You're the idiot, trying to leave like that." Woojin noticed the way the younger fiddled with his sleeves, knew what it meant. Of course he did, he knew the boy well. He pulled him close, wrapping him up in his arms to keep him warm. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to shoot you," he mumbled, voice cracking a little as his fingers curled into the other's coat and he buried his face in his hair. A moment of weakness was fine, he told himself, if it was to nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

— Another moment passes and he snorts. You're the idiot, for not realizing that I'm really here. Because by now, he's more than sure that Woojin probably assumes he's imagining things. He doesn't know why, but Takayuki really wants to make him understand that this is real. All of it is real. His presence is real. When he's wrapped up in the warmth of the other's embrace, when Woojin nuzzles against his hair, he dares himself to relax. For a mere moment, he allows bliss to slip into his veins. Even though he shouldn't. " I didn't want them to shoot you either." He utters silently. " But stopping them would mean betrayal. And then I'd really be done for. " He slips his hands in beneath the other male's coat, curls his fingers into his shirt with a low, choked sniffle. 

#resp;yuki #[ weakling number one right here yo ] #svndicxte #question:response

[txrmxnxtxd]

He smiled when the other leaned into his touch, brushing his thumb over his cheek. "I missed you," he whispered. A frown settled over his lips when the boy pried his hand and stepped away. "Once almost killed me, I'm not going through that again." He shook his head stubbornly, stepping closer to the other. "No. I'm not letting you leave." Woojin grabbed him again, pushing him towards the nearesf bench. "You're staying here with me."

— There is still that little sense of blooming fear in his veins and he tries not to groan, when he's being pushed around. His wounds haven't healed properly yet, but he was considered fin enough to return home. But even so, he was still in a sense of mental chaos these days. And when the other still acted to stubbornly, when he brought him to sit, Takayuki just followed. Because struggling never made anything better. So he seats himself, pulls his knees to his chest again in silence, peering at the other. Almost. He tugs on the sleeves of his jacket with his slim fingers. He's a bit cold, but he tries to make it less obvious than it is. He had already been sitting there for two hours upon the other's arrival. No wonder. "Stupid." He mutters. " This is stupid. "

#resp #yuki #svndicxte #question:response

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Woojin didn't care if he was seeing things because he was drunk, not at all. Because the moment the younger looked at him, warmth filled him, taking away the pain he felt inside. When he tried pushing past him, the older grabbed the blond's wrist, tugging him close instead. "I'm not letting you go anywhere," he murmured, lifting a hand up to cup his cheek. It was surprisingly warm and real, but Woojin didn't focus on that, and instead looked into his eyes. "I'm not letting you go again."

— Everything Is caving, The moment Woojin touches him, everything is caving and can't help the way he protest just in the faintest of ways. Until he's pulled on close and those warm hands he remembers, when one of them cups his cheek, his behavior turns instinctive. The way he leans into the touch ever so subtly, how his eyelids slant. " You already let me go once, twice isn't that hard. " He mumbles back. He can smell the alcohol on the other and it makes him wrinkle his nose. " You're drunk." He then utters with a melancholic sigh, prodding the male's hand away from his skin and stepping back, stepping away from him properly and bowing his head in a polite gesture. " I really have to go. " He mumbles breathlessly, trying to bite back his own tears, desperately so as he moves far enough to the side to be out of the other's reach when passing him by this time.

#resp;yuki #svndicxte #question:response

[txrmxnxtxd]

For a moment, he didn't pay attention to the other man, too engrossed by the view in front of him. He only wished the kid was there to see him. The thought made his chest ache worse than the gunshot wounds. When the other male moved. There was the one that occupied his thoughts, face partially hidden by the furred hood, but Woojin would never confuse him for someone else. "What a sweet vision you are," he mumbled, thinking he was a product of his inebriated state. He stumbled towards him.

— He hopes, for a sliver of a second, that he won't be recognized. But it is a most foolish thought. Because how could someone mistake the one they love for someone else? It's not possible, as far as Takayuki knows. And the moment Woojin mumbles — even though he can't make out the words — he knows his identity has been exposed. He swallows thickly, shakes his head enough to make to hood fall down, exposing bleached strands of hair. They're mussed, of course. It's difficult for him, to look up at the other properly. Because he's still frightened by the thought. But when he does, there's so much warmth in his chest that he thinks he's going to fall over. It's like waves, crashing upon an open shore, all of this. He needs to move, has to go before he ends up losing his life. "I'm sorry. " He whispers, lowering his gaze again, breathing slowly as he moves to pass the other by, to go back down.

To go home. 

#resp;yuki #svndicxte #question:response

[txrmxnxtxd]

His breath came out in short, labored pants. The wounds on his stomach and chest throbbing as he kept trecking up the side of the mountain, but Woojin didn't care. The pain and the cold that bit through his jacket didn't bother him, all he cared about was getting to the top. It took longer than he cared to admit, but he finally made it. He leaned against one of the trees, breathing hard. Only one other person was there, but their back was to him.

—As  fingers clutch more tightly around his sleeves, as chill spreads across his skin; trails up along his spine in small bouts. He can catch the sound of someone else's arrival,  the sound of footsteps that he believes imaginary for a while. Because they sound so much like Woojin's that it indeed scares him for a moment. Because if he's here, he Takayuki knows he has to run. So he doesn't dare to peek back, not for a few moments. Not until he rises and decides leaving is the best thing to do. Even though tears are still clinging to his eyelashes, eyes swollen and cheeks reddened by the chill that continues to bite into them with every breath he takes. So he pulls the hood further down his features, to hide his identity like he always does. But he's brought to an abrupt stop, breath knocked out of his lungs and eyes growing wide the very moment he suffers from recognition. Painful recognition.

     He can't move a single millimeter even if he'd want to. Because even if it seems silly,                                          the gods have granted him his wish, 

                                                                 Woojin. 

#svndicxte #question:response

[txrmxnxtxd]

He dropped into the driver's seat, turning on the car without a problem. Woojin was already drunk, but he didn't care. He needed to get out of there, needed to go somewhere where it didn't hurt so much that he wasn't there. Where he could pretend he hadn't done what he did. Woojin pulled out of the driveway, making for the last place where he'd last been really happy. It was harder than it should've been, but he made it there, parking the car carelessly.

— Small. The world feels so incredibly small. But at the same time, so incredibly large. His shoulders are mere seconds away from their previous violent shaking, teeth dug far into his lower fold as he practically hides himself within the confinements of his down jacket, hood pulled to cover his head entirely. The fur at the edge tickles his skin and it makes him shake his head again until it stops. He looks up, at stars covering the stretch of indigo above his head, at the moon shining ever so brightly. And then and there, during those few seconds, he's really asking for a miracle. He pulls his legs closer to his chest, rests his chin atop of his knees instead as he keeps his gaze locked by moving clouds — small and petty. Just like his problems. He wants to laugh at himself, for the way he acts. For the way he's lost his own sense of strength to someone else like this. To stupid emotions. But he still wants to see him. To touch and feel. To be as close as they had been back there, during their last and only moment of shared bliss. 

#resp;yuki #svndicxte #question:response

[txrmxnxtxd]

Woojin tossed his drink in the nearest trash can, the loud music and the bodies pressing up against him grinding on his nerves. He was ninety percent sure he wasn't supposed to be at a party after just being taken out of the hospital (against the doctors' wishes) but no one else seemed to care much. Grabbing the closest pait of keys he could find, he slipped out of the house and into the garage. He needed to get out of there.

— The chill settles easily in his veins, this solemn winter night. The last day of a year he wouldn't mind forgetting. He's escaped the claws of his own companions with ease, blaming the aching throb of a healing wound. They left him be, and he snuck out through his bedroom window a moment later. Everyone's celebrating together, while he has perched himself atop of the mountain where he and Woojin last spent time together properly. There's enough ache in his heart to tell him that he should rise and go back home, that he should just bury his face in his pillow and scream like any other person would do. But he can't. Because this place at least leaves him to feel as if he's still alive, as if he's still breathing. Not as if the person he finds himself loving has put a bullet straight through his insides; left him bleeding for the sake of promises made to someone else.

He feels stupid, so utterly fucking stupid. For ever letting himself get so close. For letting himself fall into the arms of the enemy so easily.  He knew the risks, knew everything he put at stake for a mission he pushed upon Raiden. And now, when he finds himself with his palms pressed against his eyes, with warm strakes of salty liquid trailing down his cheeks, he feels like the biggest of fools. It has always been so clear to him, to all of them, that one does not develop emotional attachment to those whom you are supposed to point your gun at. But he can't help it. Couldn't help it when he first did. " You really are an idiot Takayuki. " He mutters at himself, shaking his head briefly before resting his forehead against his knees as brown eyes come to a close.

"Why did you have to love him?"

#svndicxte #resp;msg

[txrmxnxtxd]

"I don't think there's any need for that. We'll get there quickly anyways. " He shrugs his shoulders lazily, eyeing the way the other's fingertips trail down his chest. " I thought you would after all this time. " He hangs his head, sighing melodramatically. "I'm so disappointed in you. " He scowls when his finger is grabbed, jerking his hand back and easily letting it sneak around the male's hip. " Sounds good."

"Hm, shall I come prepared then so we can skip to the fun part?" Hongki smirked, trailing his fingertips up the other’s chest. "Of course I do. Do you think I’d trust anything you say?" He grabbed the finger that prodded him. "Vodka it is then."

#svndicxte #resp;code

[txrmxnxtxd]

"What do you think?" He quirks a brow, tongue poking out to trail across his upper lip for a second or so before he busts out laughing. " Think I'm lying now, Hongki?" He prods a finger at his side. " Anything you wanna bring."

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What else do you want?” He snorted, muttering a small ‘yeah right’ under his breath. “Sounds fair enough to me. What kind of alcohol shall I bring?”

#svndicxte #resp;code

[txrmxnxtxd]

"That's sweet, you think all i wanted was a kiss." He smiles, almost a bit too sweetly, making it more than obvious that he's sarcastic. " I'm not that kind of guy you know." He shrugs, smile shifting into a grin as he ponders for a moment. " You bring the alcohol, I'll fix the food. Fair agreement?" 

"If you wanted a kiss from me that badly, all you had to do was ask." Hongki laughed, giving a small nod. "Sounds good. Should I bring something with me?"

#svndicxte #resp;code