Manabu, ScReW
([=J-Rocker Shorts (and Thigh-Highs)=])
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
Four--
"Moshi moshi?"
There was a hint of breathlessness in the receiver's voice, like he'd been preoccupied when the phone rang and had to drop whatever he was doing to answer. That much would have been obvious enough when he answered in the first place, though. If he'd had the time to look at the caller ID before he picked up he would have seen it was me and hit "Ignore" instead. Then again, why would he have saved my contact information at all?
For some reason I froze up, not saying anything. I hadn't been expecting to get through to him so easily. What was I supposed to do since I had?
"Moshi moshi?"
A spark of panic helped to stimulate me back to functioning status. I allowed myself to wince and sent a quick as lightning prayer that I would live past the next few seconds before I cleared my throat and said the first thing that came to mind.
"Manabu? Manabu, it's me. Um, Hanae."
It wasn't the most profound greeting out there but at least it wasn't something completely irrelevant or unintelligible or random; at least I hadn't just blurted out the news without any tact or disclaimer at all.
Manabu was silent on the other end of the line, so I gulped and went on before I lost too much of my nerve -- or lost him. "I really need to talk to you. Face to face. Soon, if that's possible. As soon as possible."
Again, there was no response. I knew he hadn't hung up on me, but I also knew that he was probably only one step away from it.
"Please?" I implored, feeling desperation pool and whirl in the pit of my stomach like a typhoon. "I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. Really important."
There wasn't a sound on the other end, not any scuffs or a scoffs or even breathing. My heart was pounding in my ears but constricted by barbed wire in my chest. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, although I wasn't sure why. I felt like I wasn't sure of anything anymore. The only thing that I was sure of was that I needed Manabu to answer me. Whether it was a yes or no I needed a response, even if it was only so that I could know I was living in reality and not a bad dream.
"We're recording," Manabu finally answered, his tone dead of all emotion. I barely cared, though.
"I can meet you at the studio," I reasoned in a rush. From where I spoke in my kitchen, I began pacing. "I'll take you out to lunch. Tomorrow. Please?"
I was begging. Begging like a parasite that didn't know when to let go. But it was necessary. It was the type of situation where I couldn't let go.
There was another long pause before Manabu spoke again, and my body went through another cycle of speeding heartbeats and stopping heartbeats.
"Fine."
I expelled the contents of my lungs right into the phone receiver, not caring whether or not Manabu thought I was desperate or pathetic or up to something completely underhanded. It didn't really matter what he thought about me. I already knew what he thought about me, and that was why I was more thankful that he was willing to hear me out than I was for the roof over my head at that moment.
"Thank you," I told him, the words coming out in a whisper. "Thank you, Manabu. I'll be there at noon, is that alright?"
"Yeah."
It was immediately after that last word that Manabu hung up, but it didn't bother me. I'd gotten when I wanted, what I needed, and his reluctance barely registered in my mind. And even if it had, it wasn't like I would have blamed Manabu for being rude. If I had been in his place, I would have been so much worse.
That just went to show you how much of a better person Manabu was compared to me.
Then again, it wasn't exactly hard to find a better person than me. I'd been a better person once, but some mistakes ruined you for life.
|/|\|:|/|\|
I stayed in the lobby. I didn't want to go waltzing into the recording session as if I had the right to so I stayed in the lobby, hoping that Manabu would realize my plan and come out to meet me. Part of me did want to see the rest of the band, but part of me didn't; crossing paths with a group of guys who would undoubtedly hate my guts didn't sound like a good time. I was probably better off being antisocial and biting my fingernails.
When twenty minutes passed I was close to gnawing my entire hand off. Where was Manabu? Did he think I was going to go pick him up from the room or was he running late? Should I look for him or ask someone to contact him? I didn't think I could stand waiting for much longer.
I was in the middle of adjusting my clothes and preparing to make my move when one of the adjacent doors opened. I froze and glanced over, fearing and anticipating Manabu.
It was Byou.
Maybe it was only because I was petrified where I stood, but Byou mirrored me and did something similar, pausing in his steps once he noticed me. He stood there staring, his face blank and intimidating. It was like meeting him for the first time all over again, only I was twice as terrified.
I barely managed to pull myself together enough to give a jerky bow. "Hello, Byou-San."
I kept my eyes to the ground at first, but the silence was unnerving. My gaze flickered upwards. Byou was still staring, his face still somber, but by the next moment there was some tension at the corner of his lips. He couldn't fight off a smirk.
"Hi," Byou said back. The interior door opened again, and Byou wiped the smile off of his face. The damage had been done, though, and I was reassured that there was still some hope left in the world.
Kazuki walked in next and, after playfully jostling the vocalist, noticed me. There was a brief lapse of debate in his expression before he nailed on an awkward grin.
"Hanae-Chan," Kazuki greeted. He didn't get the chance to say any more before the rest of the band piled out after him, all taking the cue and pausing behind their bandmates.
Jin didn't smile, but didn't give off any bad vibes either; he more or less just watched on. Rui was prabably nearly as uncomfortable as me, since he knew the situation but didn't know me well enough to be able to form an unbiased opinion. Manabu stood idle for another moment, taking me in banally like Jin, before making his move.
"Let's go," he said. He broke away from the group without further elaboration. Judging by the guys' faces, Manabu hadn't shared his lunch plans with them, or at least not that those plans included me. I wanted to tell them something to let them know that I wasn't trying to cause any drama but I knew it wasn't the time or place. I could only bow again before making my way out of the building, following Manabu.
I didn't try to talk to Manabu as we moved, only letting him lead me without dispute. There was a small cafe type of restaurant on the same block as the studio and Manabu took full advantage of its proximity. When we got there he went in first and hovered inside of the threshold, holding the door open for me but keeping his back turned. I jogged the last few steps to relieve him and we moved into the building, standing before the menu.
Neither of us spoke. My eyes were trained on the food options, but I wasn't thinking about eating. My mind was miles away, trying to decide how I wanted to approach the subject up for discussion and trying to decide if planning it would be worse than just winging it. I had already made more than a few wrong moves so I wanted to salvage my name as much as I could.
Manabu shifted, pushing his fists into the pockets of his hoodie. He cleared his throat. "Are you going to order anything?"
I turned to him but didn't look him in the eye, instead biting my lip and shaking my head. My gaze was downcast, and I noticed that Manabu was clad in his favorite sandals. That brought a little bit of a smile to my face for some reason.
Manabu scoffed softly from above me, blowing my smile out. "You asked me to go to lunch with you. Do you want to do this or not?"
"No, I do," I said, quick and earnest in assuring him. I still couldn't look at him directly, so I scanned the room instead, growing more and more conscious of every element of our environment. "It's just, now that we're here, I don't think this is the best place to talk." I took a beat before going on. "Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere private? You can get food first if you want, but I really need to talk to you about something serious."
I on my lower lip again, watching one of the workers brewing coffee behind the counter. Manabu let out another scoff from beside me.
"What exactly is this thing you need to talk about?" he questioned skeptically. "You said it was important, but what's important to you isn't any of my business. I don't care anymore."
"It is your business," I responded. My face jerked to the side, to Manabu, and suddenly I didn't have an aversion to his gaze. "You will care."
Manabu was quiet, pouting and looking back at me. But he wasn't stubborn enough to be ignorant.
"Fine." The word was blunt and somewhat aggressive, but it was good enough for me. "But not now. I'll go to your place after I finish at the studio."
Manabu didn't ask if that worked for me, but even if it hadn't worked for me I would have made it work for me. I did feel stupid to have brought him that far only to pull out, so it was the least I could do. He was doing so much for me that I would have never done for him if our roles had been reversed. He'd always given me more than I had ever been able to reciprocate. He'd been made aware of that fact quite brutally, and it was what landed me in more trouble than I could put into words.
|/|\|:|/|\|
There was no expression on Manabu's face. I wasn't sure if that was something I was thankful for or something that almost killed me. How could he have no expression? Was there too much going on inside him to show or nothing at all?
There couldn't be nothing at all. There had to be something.
Manabu blinked a few times, his features unchanging, before he in a long breath through his nose. He looked down after that, to his lap, and picked at the inseam of his jeans. Then, with a little snort, he looked up, recharged.
"Is it even mine?" Manabu quipped. He had gained an expression but it wasn't a compassionate one. His voice was lighter than the expression, but it was the visual that dug my grave even deeper.
I swallowed with difficulty. My throat was dry and unwilling to cooperate.
"Of course," I forced out. My eyes were burning. Everything was burning. "Of course it's yours."
"Can you really know that right now?"
That was the nail in the coffin.
I choked on life itself. The first tear fell, paving the way for a few more, and my self control snapped like haywire. What was the point of even trying to hold it together anymore? What was the point when everything was against me, down to my own body?
"I do know," I implored, weak and insistent at the same time. I couldn't let myself fall apart completely even when all I wanted to do was give up; I had a job to do. There were things so much bigger than my own ego.
I dug my knuckles into my eye sockets, hoping to stop the leak, and let my head fall forward. I took in three deep breaths before I looked back up. I needed to get through the conversation and be strong doing it. Manabu didn't have to trust me or love me but he did have to believe me. He really had to believe me.
I didn't speak again until Manabu took the hint and made eye contact. I held the connection, convincing him nonverbally before I confirmed anything with words. I put every bit of honesty I had in me into that look. If he was looking at me and really seeing me, how could he not believe me?
My brows tilted in earnest. "I never slept with him, Manabu."
We maintained our stare for a lifetime before Manabu rebutted.
"Did you really not?" he said through his lips, lowering his stare again. "You cheated on me, Hanae. We were together for two years, and you were seeing some other guy behind my back for the last three months of it. You lied to me for all that time. I couldn't trust you when I thought I could. Why would I trust you now?"
"Because I wouldn't lie about this," I persisted, laying out everything I had to offer, pulling emotion from the outrance of my chest. I leaned forward, trying to see Manabu's face. Why was he hiding from me? I should have been the one hiding. "I wouldn't have ever bothered putting either of us through this if I wasn't sure. I'm a coward, and you know that better than anyone. I would have avoided you for the rest of my life if I'd been able to."
Manabu still refused to look anywhere near me, so I sat back and glanced out of the window, where the rest of the world was still in motion. I didn't take in the scene for long, though. I had too much inside of me that needed to be let out and I wasn't sure if I would ever get another chance to do it.
"Don't ever think that I'm proud of what I did to you," I said, partially detached but meaning it from my core. "Don't ever think that I'm anything less than ashamed, or that it didn't kill me to see you hurt. I was selfish and shady and I know that. I knew it then, too, which is even worse." I wavered, considering the next thought that came to my mind. I voiced it, but reservation was present in every single phoneme. "Do you think I'm going to look forward to the day when our child asks why mommy and daddy hate each other?"
That seemed to be the point where everything unraveled and solidified all at once. Manabu's hands, which had been fidgeting in his lap, went rigid. His whole body stopped moving, he stopped breathing, until suddenly all the air he had in his lungs gushed out in a heave. He deflated before me.
"I can't," Manabu began, shaking his head. "I can't do this right now."
I nodded after a beat, watching as Manabu stood up and understanding how heavy every step he took towards the door must have been. I didn't blame him for leaving. I hadn't let myself expect anything more from him. He was reacting well, all things considered. I'd been prepared to prepare for something much worse.
"It's fine," I said, my voice so small that I wouldn't bet Manabu had heard me at all. "Just... Just come talk to me when you're ready."
Manabu hesitated at the door, staring down at the handle. The pause was long enough that my heart swelled, hanging in suspense and clinging to the fool's hope that he would turn around and decide to stay. But letting expectation get the better of me only lead to greater disappointment when Manabu nodded back at me once, perfunctorily, before making a swift exit.
I was left alone in my apartment, like I had been for the past six weeks. Somehow it seemed more lonely then than ever, though.
I'd stopped crying at some point, but the shallows under my eyes were still damp. I reached up, wiping the rest of the moisture away, and left my fingers there. Why? Why did I need to clean myself and keep holding it in?
I was alone.
I fell over onto my side on the sofa, curling up and staring out into nothing. Still, I wasn't able to lose it completely. I couldn't let myself go, and I couldn't figure out why.
My head couldn't figure out why, but my body could. I didn't realize it until sometime later, but one of my hands had taken position over my abdomen, guarding and soothing the little life beneath it without any conscious thought at all.
It was what the rest of my life would be devoted to. My life was my child's life; my child's life was my life. No matter what happened, my child came first. That fact didn't need to be decided or talked out. It was instinct, an unyielding instinct.
A mother's instinct.
|/|\|:|/|\|
It was almost a week later when I found myself sitting in the corner of a local cafe, indulging myself in a small cup of hot chocolate. It wasn't quite the weather or time for it, with it being a late spring afternoon, but my sweet tooth was something atrocious. I'd always loved chocolate in any form, but my pregnancy made the craving so much stronger (or was that just my excuse?).
It was there in the corner of that local cafe that Byou found me. It was a strange encounter; Byou had never struck me as the cafe type, but maybe fate had been working in my favor that day.
I'd been absorbed in ignoring the world around me, so Byou had noticed me before I'd noticed him. When he did approach, though, I recognized him right away; his disguise masked most of his features, but that in itself only made him a more conspicuous character.
I wasn't sure what Byou wanted from me so I put on a demure smile, absent-mindedly fiddling with the table cloth.
"Konbanwa, Byou-San," I said tentatively, lowering my gaze to my cup, unable to hold a stare with his sunglasses. Byou nodded back and invited himself to sit down. I didn't exactly welcome his company but I didn't speak up against it.
My eyes flickered up and down and back and forth, never lingering for too long on any one object.
"You never ordered anything," I noted out loud, folding my hands around my own cup. "Did you want something?"
There was no immediate response, which made me nervous. Byou had a fondness for making himself out to be tough, but I had learned early on that he was a sweet man with a good heart. He was loyal on top of that, which was what got my stomach churning. We may have been casual friends once but the tables had been turned. He was on Manabu's side over mine, without a doubt.
"I'm fine," Byou mumbled, reaching up to remove his glasses. A knit hat still covered his head, fitting over his hair and cutting off the upper half of his forehead. His eyebrows were visible, and I noticed that they were pinched. "I don't even remember what I came here for, to be honest, but I'm glad I did."
I nodded along, wondering whether I was supposed to be glad. How much had Manabu told the rest of the band about our situation? Did Byou want to scold me or threaten me?
"Hanae-Chan," the vocalist voiced, "are you okay?"
There was a frown on both my lips and brow, and I glanced up at Byou in question. His eyes were sincere, his expression about as hostile as a golfish's. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but as long as he wasn't angry then I wouldn't question it.
I nodded a few times, not wanting to lie outright with words. I was okay, but just okay. I had been much better, and it didn't seem like the future was going to get much better, but I was okay.
Byou regarded me for a little longer, rightfully skeptical of my answer. He didn't push me, though, only reaching out to cover the back of my palm with his. I went rigid, not expecting the contact.
"If you do ever need anything, you can always come to me or one of the other guys," Byou said. Everything about him was sincere, from his tone to the wrinkle in his forehead. "I know you have your own family and friends, but don't think we're out of the picture. We're here for you, too."
My mind was somewhat detached from the situation. It seemed almost funny that Byou would be there offering support on behalf of the rest of ScReW. At the same time, I knew he didn't mean it as an empty promise. Every ounce of him was being honest with me, but every ounce of me was being honest with myself when I decided that I would never accept the band's help. As long as Manabu was out of the immediate picture, how could I involve his friends?
Despite my thoughts, I put on a smile. Despite my thoughts, the very least that Byou deserved from me was a smile. "Thank you for saying that, Byou-San."
The impersonal edge to my response didn't escape Byou's ear, and that might have been part of what made him get more comfortable in his chair.
"I know the situation isn't ideal," he went on, retracting his hand from mine and picking at his cuffs, "but Manabu will do the right thing. He'll mope around and be gloomy for a long time, but he'll do the right thing."
The trouble with the concept of the right thing, though, was that it was often difficult to distinguish the right thing from the thing with the most desirable outcome -- and even that was open to interpretation depending on whichever perspective you were looking at it from. In the past the answer might have been to do what was best for yourself, but the existence of a baby jarred that mindset terminally.
"And if he doesn't do the right thing," Byou went on, apparently taking my silence as a negative sign, "then I'll be the daddy."
It took a few seconds for the offer to work its way through my head. When it did, my gaze snapped up quizzically. A smirk-ish smile, somehow both childish and cryptically mature, was teasing the corner's of Byou's lips, making his half-dimples more pronounced.
"I'm serious," he assured, nodding for emphasis. "I want to be a daddy."
I couldn't help but let out a short, genuine laugh, shaking my head. The resulting smile was a little larger and stayed on my face for a little longer. It was the most at ease I’d felt in a while and the first time I'd truly believed that someone was caring for me and my baby outside of obligation. I didn’t feel blamed or belittled or alone in a crowded room, and that felt really nice.
|/|\|:|/|\|
It turned into a weekly occurrence, meeting with Byou at the cafe. I never got the gall to ask whether or not Manabu knew about our rendezvous but I tried not to be all that concerned about it. Manabu had stopped concerning himself with me, for the most part. He asked for any and all updates about the baby but refused any contact outside of that.
I knew Manabu was still adjusting to it all, and neither of us really knew would happen further down the road. I didn't doubt that Manabu would be financially supportive during the pregnancy, but would he want to go with me to medical appointments? Would he want to go to birthing and first-time parent classes with me? Would he want to be in the delivery room with me? As shallow as it was, I would be humiliated to have to go through all of those things alone, or even with someone other than my baby's father. That just wasn't the way it was suppsed to happen.
Byou, probably unintentionally, had become a key player in maintaining my sanity. He was tactful in avoiding any talk that centered around Manab, but he did talk a lot, mostly about his music or any remarkable things other musicians did. Music tended to take up the lives of musicians, something I was more than aware of. But if music wasn't on the mind, Byou spoke about his family with just as much passion, which I appreciated.
It was during one of my outings with Byou that, after teasing him about his girlish hairstyle for their upcoming PV shoot, things went awry.
"If you think I look girly than you should see Manabu," Byou said through a giggle, smoothing out his locks. "No one would believe that he's actually gonna be a father."
I smiled, but it was strained. It was stupid, I knew, to have a reaction just to Manabu's name, but the name put his face in my head, and then his voice, and his laugh, and his touch...
Byou took to watching me closely after that, and I tried to play it cool by sipping my hot tea (less caffeine). I wanted to change the subject but all other options were escaping me.
"He's not still too gloomy, is he?" I settled on asking, trying not to seem too gloomy myself. Byou, still staring, shrugged.
"He's sort of doing what you're doing," Byou relayed. "Just going through the motions."
I pursed my lips, looking down into the contents of my cup. "That's understandable, I guess."
A heavy silence blanketed the two of us, and the cacophony from the rest of the restaraunt seemed so far away. I knew something was coming. I didn’t know what it was, but the atmosphere spoke for itself.
Byou wasn’t one to keep quiet and wait like I was. "What exactly did happen?"
I looked up at Byou from under my lashes, surprised. I knew he knew the story -- or at least the basic, key details of the story. It wasn’t really the kind of thing you had to look at from both sides. A cheater was a cheater. Unfaithfulness wasn’t open for debate.
"I know that Manabu found out you were seeing another guy," Byou clarified, looking sour with me for the first time, "but he didn’t say anything more. He only said you’re sure the baby’s his. Are you sure?"
I took in a deep breath and nodded morosely. That seemed to be the question that everyone wanted to know, and I really hated that everyone needed to ask.
"I am sure," I said, "because I never slept with anyone besides Manabu. I never came anywhere close to being that physically intimate with anyone besides Manabu. He was the only one."
I tried to mentally pull out so that the subject would drop, but I was too antsy. I noticed Byou’s probing expression and lunged at the chance to elaborate. I hadn’t ever talked about it before, since no one was ever willing to hear me out, and somehow once I got started it was hard to stop.
"I know it’s not an excuse," I asserted, "but I just got lonely. I’m more needy than I ever realized, emotionally. Once I got used to relying on someone like I did with Manabu, not always having him there made things unbearable for me sometimes."
I paused, thinking about how much worse things had turned out for me after I gave into temptation. But then I forced the storm clouds away and kept talking.
"I just needed someone to lean on, so when this guy I met on the subway invited me out, I accepted. I know it’s not right, what I did, and I knew it wasn’t right then, but everyone’s selfish sometimes, right? I just wish I would have… I don’t even know. I just wish something was different, and everything didn’t have to turn out the way that it did."
Honestly, I felt like such a little kid, making stupid excuses and trying to self-justify my own stupid behavior. Things had turned out the way they had because of me, so who was I to complain about it? Who was I to feel lonely when I had betrayed the person who cared the most about me just because he couldn’t comfort me at any given moment? I really was needy, and I really needed to fix that.
Byou didn’t say anything for a while, and I was hesitant to spy on his reaction. When I got enough courage to, I saw that his face was thoughtful, not giving away too much.
"So you just hung out with this other guy?" Byou questioned at last. "You never did anything ual with him at all?"
I bristled, nodding uncertainly. "Well, we weren't just casual friends. I let him go a little further than friendship. We never went too far physically, but..."
There wasn't a but. I could have done worse, gone farther, but I'd still crossed a line. Other people might not have thought much of it, but I did. And Manabu did. And our's were the only two opinions that mattered.
"You two are so young," Byou eventually drawled out. I barely had time to shoot him a questioning look before he went on. "That’s nothing to shatter a relationship over, especially under the circumstances. You’re right that it wasn’t right, but nothing happened that can’t be repaired. Flirting isn’t cheating, you know."
There wasn’t much more I could do besides blink. I struggled to process Byou’s opinion.
"It wasn’t flirting," was what flew out of my mouth once I caught up with everything. "I didn’t just batter my eyes. I—"
"You didn’t fool around with him and you had no intention of taking things anything further than companionship. It's not cheating."
"It’s not being a good girlfriend," I countered, getting agitated. Why was Byou trying to defend me? "I should have just told Manabu about my feelings. I knew he couldn’t do anything about them and it would only make him worry about me while you guys were supposed to be having a great time on tour, but it would have been better than going off behind his back and finding someone to fill in for him. It may not have been cheating, but it wasn’t being monogamous."
"It not something that couldn’t be talked out for the sake of the baby, is it?"
My skin turned as cold as marble.
Wasn’t everything I did for the sake of my baby, no matter how difficult?
Byou let out a breath of air, leaning forward on the table. If I felt like a child, he must have felt like he was speaking to a child. "I get that you’re following Manabu’s lead with this since you feel guilty, but did you even try to stand up for yourself? He might not understand the situation. He might think that there was a lot more going on between you and that guy than there really was." Byou let me chew on that before adding more to the plate. "If you ask me, that guy, whoever he is, is the one who should be upset. You did sort of lead him on, right? What happened to him?"
It took me a few moments to find my tongue. "I’ve been avoiding him."
"Don’t. Tell him everything. Whether you decide to be in a relationship with him or not, you have to tell him."
"I don’t want to be in a relationship with him," I said in an instant. "I only want Manabu."
My cheeks were burning, and so were my eyes, but I held Byou’s stare, desperate for his guidance. He was solid and solemn before me.
"Okay," the vocalist put forth. "I’ll talk to him, if you want, and then he’ll talk to you. You’ll talk to each other. Do you promise?"
I thought about my baby, and what the future would be like if my family was disjointed. I thought about Manabu and everything we had been through together, and if I would be willing and able to function for very long without him by my side.
I started nodding while in a zombie state of mind, but I doubled the amount of effort once it became a more conscious action.
"Yes, I promise."
I wanted it. I needed it.
We needed it.
|/|\|:|/|\|
Manabu maintained a stony silence while I spoke. He held eye contact with his knees only, his lips pouting and his shoulders tense. I had no idea if he was really listening to me, really hearing what I had to say, but there wasn't anything I could do but keep talking.
I'd prepared what I was going to say before hand, and I'd prepared my responses to the things I thought Manabu might say. But even when my script ran out and the two of us sat in limbo, Manabu said nothing.
More than I felt guilty or sympathetic, I felt annoyed. Hadn't Manabu had enough time to wallow? Shouldn't he have been ready to be an adult? We were having a child, so he couldn't keep acting like one. We had to grow up together. I'd made my mistakes, but I'd owned up to them. Didn't that count for anything?
"Please talk to me," I told Manabu, copying his hunched over, elbows-on-thighs pose. It brought our faces closer but Manabu's was still dipped down, out of sight. "You've been leaving me in the dark this whole time. We won't get anywhere if you keep this up."
There was a few seconds delay, but apparently my last words were the magic words.
Manabu took in a deep breath through his nose and sat up. His nostrils were flared, and he glared across the room. Gradually his eyes slide over to meet mine, losing power as they went.
Suddenly he was almost sad looking. Manabu's jaw was still locked, but his expression wilted. "I almost wish you'd slept with him," he murmured, lowering his head again. "Then it would be easier to blame you."
I'd prepared myself for a lot of possible outcomes, but Manabu's confession wasn't one of them. My face twisted in confusion.
Manabu let out his breath in one huge puff, falling forward again and jamming the heels of his hands into his cheeks. He stayed that way for a moment before he lowered his arms, but he didn't raise his gaze.
"You didn't physically cheat on me," he said quietly. His voice was as deep as ever, but the downreaching volume he spoke in somehow made it all hit lower, and hit harder. "I think I always knew that, inside. In a situation like this, it's expected that if a woman cheats it's because her partner can't fulfill her needs physically. But I know you aren't like that. I know you're emotional and need someone who can provide for you in that sense more than anything else. I couldn't do that for you, and it makes me so angry."
I watched Manabu as he spoke, but my eyes drifted down once he paused. A part of me wanted to deny what he had told me, but I knew it was true.
Manabu leaned back and continued. "Touring is fun and hard. It's tiring and it can get lonely. But even when I was hundreds of miles away and hadn't seen you in weeks, there were still times when I chose sleep over a phone call, or I took a bath rather than send you an email or simple text. It wasn't like I was as faithful to you as I should have been either. I neglected you when I was fully capable of doing more, of being there for you the way you needed me to be as often as I possibly could, only I didn't. I'm sorry for that, and I'm sorry that I only pulled away even more during all of this."
There was a lapse in the monologue but, after a few ticks of the clock, Manabu spoke again, his tone not much more than a whisper. "How am I supposed to be a good dad when I couldn't even be a good boyfriend?"
My lips folded inwards, and I on them, taking it all in. I wasn't sure if things had taken a turn for the better or worse, but they had taken a turn all the same. It was something; it was progress as long as we didn't screw it up.
I breathed in slowly, stalling my response. When my lungs were full I forced on a smile breathed out. "We've both got a lot to learn and a lot of growing up to do. But we'll do it together this time."
My smile wavered, then tightened. I was afraid that it had been the wrong thing to say. Would we do it together? Would we do it together in the conventional mommy-and-daddy way?
It seemed like it took eons for Manabu to give me an answer. He looked pensive, not even moving to fiddle with his fingers or bounce his knee. He was a statue before me, stony and beautiful.
But then he became human. He leaned forward and reached out to take my hand.
"Yeah, we will," he told me. "We'll always go together."
Tears prickled in my eyes right away, although I wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe I'd just missed him. I'd missed having him there for me, in both body and spirit.
Manabu stood up. He moved to sit beside me on the couch, a few inches away at first before he shifted closer. I tensed when he wrapped one of his arms around me, but only for a flash. I melted under his touch as soon as I'd frozen, and it seemed like every particle in me melted after that. I felt weakened, but protected. I was vulnerable and bruised there with Manabu, but I knew that things would only get better. I trusted the two of us to make things better. Manabu and I could easily hurt each other whether we meant to or not, but at the same time we would always fight to save each other. What we had would be a fight until the finish, but it was worth fightinmg for.
"I love you," Manabu said in my ear, pressing his lips into the top of my head before he tucked me underneath his chin. I hiccupped once, letting my tears fall. I got caught between a short sob and a laugh, and turned into him, pulling his frame into mine as closely as I could. My face was pushed up against Manabu's collar, but I still answered. It was the answer to everything.
"I love you, too."
Author's Note:
I liked this a lot better back in the day when I originally wrote it, around the "DUALTY" era. Now it seems like teenage angst/cliche overload or something. But, in honor of ScReW finally going major, here it is, revised! I have mixed feelings about the going major thing, to be honest, but good for the guys. There's so excited. Manabu, you're too cute~ I'm sure your mom is proud! =D
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