Hands, fingers. Tangled. Palms touching, skin warm and flush. His body
is beside yours, free hand resting on his chest, rising and falling with
motion slight yet mesmerizing. You can't take your eyes off him. If you
do, he may stop breathing.
Your hands sweat. You don't let go.
Your head, against the pillow, strands of hair plastered to your cheek
with sweat. His fingers nestled into the dips between your own.
His body is so close, his mind far away. You wonder what it would be
like, to see what he sees, to hear the things he can hear. To have the
tender presence of another heart inside you. Your own heart skips a beat
at the thought. There is already so much bubbling away inside you that
you may well burst.
You can see the physical remnants of this otherness, through the thin
peek at his belly between his shorts and raised shirt. The careful line
cutting across his hip, where his skin is markedly darker, mimicking the
natural curves of color splashed across Yubel's old body. He's been able
to explain it away as a birthmark - so, too, with his chest, where the
pigment curves so delicately over one shoulder. You suppose it could be
called a birthmark, though it wasn't his to begin with.
Your mind wanders, lazily. Fleeting memories and thoughts, mostly
unpleasant. Decisions you regret. Unflattering senses of the self. But
Jaden's hand is weighty and soft in your own, and you let these thoughts
bubble and boil away, shutting your eyes gently. You are so very tired.
He's tired, too. He has healed from wounds deeper than anyone should
ever have to receive but he'll never completely forget them. He smiles
cordially, he is pleasant to those around him, he even laughs. He makes
love to you and he means it when he does but there are many days where
he simply can't bring himself to leave his bed. On days such as this you
lie with him, fingers stroking over his hair for hours and hours, as
long as he may need you.
Today has been kind so far. He kissed you upon waking, and the two of
you made breakfast in your small, cramped kitchen, backs together while
alternating tasks. Eggs, toasted bread. The sounds of faraway birds and
scraping pans. It's not unusual for you two to go hours without speaking
these days, so the soundtrack of your life is mostly ambient.
On the few occasions when the two of you go into town together, Jaden's
hand is like a vice in your own, his shoulder pressed hard against your
own. You have to admit that this lifestyle has turned you into quite a
similar animal; when employees in the grocery store ask how you are, you
look at the floor and mumble something quickly to escape their gaze. You
flinch when you receive your change and you wash your hands hard when
you get home until your skin is tinged with the pleasant smells of your
own space.
He doesn't like to speak in public anymore. It's a sharp contrast from
when you met him all those years ago, when he'd bounded across the room
to shake your hand and introduce himself, when everyone he met was
simply a friend he hadn't made yet. It isn't so much that his
personality has changed. He just simply doesn't have the energy anymore
for such superficial things.
His friends are still in contact, though somewhat sparingly. That's
okay, though. They all have their own lives to lead, just as you do, and
you catch small glimpses over the phone when Jaden receives calls every
month or so.
Asuka is doing well - last you heard, she was pursuing teaching, or
maybe it was some sort of tutoring. She's as warm and confident as ever,
though her calls have been coming less and less frequently. You think
she'll stop calling after another year or so. Neither of you blame her.
There are just some things she doesn't have any concept of, and that's
okay.
Sho still visits in person every once in a while. He makes the effort to
do it, even when he's uncomfortable - you know he gets sick to his
stomach when he sees Jaden stuck in bed like some kind of hermit. You
try to text him on the days when Jaden is feeling particularly
energetic, and he'll make the drive - two hours one way - and the three
of you will talk for a while, about things of very little substance,
because anything deeper would crack open this thin layer of pleasant
domesticity that you have all worked so very hard to achieve.
Sho always pulls you aside before he leaves, and he thanks you. You know
that he loves Jaden more than words can say, but it takes all his
willpower to come see him in this state. You understand. It is hard,
sometimes. But you smile and you tell him that you'll always be here. It
eases his heartache, his guilt. He passes on well wishes from Kenzan,
who passes on well wishes from Jim, and he excuses himself before he
hits his limit.
Manjoume, surprisingly, is the one who visits the most often. He shows
up unannounced, whenever it suits him, or whenever he needs advice. You
often leave the two of them alone; even to this day, he's sensitive
about asking for help. But you're grateful to have him. When he's
around, Jaden almost seems like his old self again - you hear muffled
laughter and shouting, antics reminiscent of the days when they would
pit themselves head-to-head as if it were the most important thing in
the world.
Jaden's overwhelming tiredness doesn't bother him. He doesn't feel sorry
for him. He sits on the edge of Jaden's bed and pokes fun at his
mix-matched eyes, the way his old clothes hang so loosely off his figure
now. His words are harsh but Jaden just laughs, laughs harder than
you've heard in ages until his whole body is shaking. Jaden's words are
just as sharp, asking Manjoume if hating yourself is the secret to
getting ahead in the business world, and Manjoume has to laugh, even if
he doesn't want to.
Manjoume's visits always end at the kitchen table. In all these years
he's never forgotten his deck once. They'll play in silence. Their cards
are worn and faded, ink barely legible, but it doesn't matter. They know
every move the other can make by now.
Jaden nearly always wins, but sometimes, Manjoume will flip a card and
Jaden will blink, look down at his own field, and smile. He thanks him
for a good game and they shake hands, touch lingering, before Manjoume
pulls him into a hug. He always hesitates to do it but never once has he
thought better of it.
You glance over at Jaden once more, slowly pulling yourself out of this
whirlwind of thoughts. His eyes are closed now, his breathing slower.
He's fallen asleep. You slowly detangle your fingers from his, your
joints creaking.
You turn to lie on your side, eyes alighting on Jaden's sleeping body.
There's the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. You smile, too. You
slowly let your eyes close, and it isn't long before you slip under,
letting the pleasant, quiet darkness lull you to sleep beside him. Not
many people could live like this. But for you, it's perfect.
back to words
back to shrine