[50stories] Nothing to You - Niya x Sakito - 1/1
Title: Nothing to You Theme: 14. cold Rating: PG Pairing: Ni~ya x Sakito (Nightmare) Disclaimer: I don't own Nightmare or Two Gallants. Damn. Comments: Title and idea shamlessly lifted from 'Nothing to You' by Two Gallants, and they're much more clever with words than I.
My kind’s been around forever - the overly cliché, lovesick fool that doesn’t quite possess the balls to confess. Tens or hundreds of thousands the world over just like me, all lost causes with tongues tied in hopeless knots the moment the object of their desire enters the room. These are the kind of sad stories that are practically a requirement for aspiring literary greatness. I suppose mine would fit the bill perfectly, although I wish the higher powers would write me some worthwhile nerves instead of the cowering ones I’ve been stuck with thus far.
Instead, here I sit, more or less unwanted in the darkest corner of party number I-don’t-even-remember celebrating the band’s latest release. Occasionally, an unfamiliar face would stop by to try and engage me in idle chit-chat, but I was too busy watching him to pay them much attention. Him. Sakito. Beauty, charm, and elegance in a perfect double zero. Oh, how much I wished he would come over here and spend time with me, talk to me like we were more than just friends, take a little more interest, but it hasn’t happened in all the years we’ve known each other and never would before I turned gray. In my private corner I continued to watch him, feeling a tinge of guilt at the memory of all those late night fantasies I had of us in bed, backstage, in my car…anywhere really. But that slight shame wasn’t enough to keep me from slowly running my fingers up and down my half-finished 40 resting on the arm of the chair, imagining it was him. Wryly I mused that he would probably feel just as ice cold as the beer bottle in my hand, judging from the offhand way he viewed all those admiring people gathered around him, men and women alike.
What seemed like hours and an overabundance of beer later, I noticed Sakito bidding goodbye to various party-goers, smiling at each with that deceptively warm little smile. I must be the only one that noticed how the warmth didn’t quite reach the depths of his eyes, but then again, I’ve been watching his every move carefully for years, committing all the quirks and details to memory. Now I gazed at him as he turned to leave, wobbling on slender legs every so slightly from the alcohol. Dipping his pretty head to the few people he passed on the way to the door caused his hair to fall carelessly in soft waves around his face, reminiscent of a river lit only by the stars. How often I had seen him admire his reflection in the mirror, carefully arranging seemingly every strand to perfection, eyes only for himself. Even so, I couldn’t help but take a deep breath in awe, wishing I going home with him. But no…Sakito always left these things alone, no matter the amount of fawning he received from the other attendees.
Sighing, I turned my attention back to the room after Sakito had gone, squinting through the alcoholic haze that seemed to have settled over my vision. One or two more people left, but the rest of the festivities didn’t show any sign of ending and all of my beautiful guitarist’s clique had merely moved on to Yomi and his unsavory drunken jokes. Ruka and Hitsugi sat together at the table across the room, quietly entertaining each other and a few others in the remaining chairs. As my eyes traveled absently around the room, they caught a hint of bright red resting on the coffee table - a cell phone with several charms dangling from it. No mistake, it was Sakito’s, left forgotten near where he had been sitting. Perhaps it was the drink or maybe God finally decided to give me a boost of courage, but my heart lurched with the opportunity to catch the phone’s owner alone and vulnerable in the dark streets outside. Waving a hasty goodbye to the party, I snatched up his phone, clutching that ticket desperately with both hands and hurrying downstairs as fast as my inebriated legs would carry me.
The first couple of blocks were deserted, and I couldn’t help feeling somewhat disheartened that Sakito moved more quickly than I expected a drunk person to move. Searching and searching, I finally chanced a turn I was almost sure he hadn’t taken, the cool wind pushing me encouragingly in that direction after all others had proved fruitless. In the near distance I saw his silhouette swaying gently along the street, illuminated every so often by the yellow tint of the streetlamps. I think my longing must have reached all the way to him, because after I’d only take a few steps down the street, he turned quizzically, unsure of why. I could barely make out through the shadows the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown before he spotted me. Reassured by a familiar face he started toward me and I to him again, and we met in the middle of the block.
“What are you doing here, Ni? Isn’t your house the other way?” Sakito greeted me mildly, speech faintly slurred from the alcohol (and I’m sure mine was as well).
“You forgot your phone at the party,” I answered truthfully. “Just thought I’d catch you on the way home.”
He smiled gratefully, taking the red object from my outstretched hand and giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Thanks. You know how attached I am to this.” He waved it in the air for emphasis before sliding the phone into his pocket. I chuckled lightly in reply, and offered to walk with him as far as the bridge, and Sakito agreed to the company. We both started down the street together with weaving steps, nearly knocking into one another on a couple occasions.
Conversation seemed to be more difficult than I had hoped, and ended up with the lame starter, “Those were some hot girls hanging on you tonight.”
“I guess,” Sakito replied with a shrug, obviously disinterested in the physique of his fans. I wonder very briefly if he’s ever actually been with a woman before, if anyone could worm past the thick layer of ice underlying his friendly exterior. Of course, that was absurd - all of us have at one point or another, some more than the others.
An awkward silence fell, and I firmly decided it was now or never, but the perfect lead-in to a blind confession of desire wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. I could see the bridge where we had agreed to part ways, and disappointment began to settle in my chest as if there was no possible way I could find the words to tell him before we reached it. If I just blurted it out, would he accept me or would a frigid silence shatter what little relationship we had? I had to know, one way or the other. “Taka…have you ever been in love?”
Sakito looked a bit taken aback by the sudden question, and took a moment to answer. When he did, there was a hint of cynicism in his amused tone, “No, and neither have you. When would we have time for it?”
I understood that his response was meant to be chummy, like two friends sharing opinions without regard for how they might sound to the rest of the world. However, I couldn’t level with his attitude. Shot down before I ever had a chance, like a kick in the teeth for caring unconditionally. Laughing weakly, I mentally held the wound closed, and agreed with him. What else could I have done? “Yeah, that’s true.”
Finally, we arrived at the bridge, and none too soon. I waved goodnight to Sakito and watched him cross over, ambling down the street with that elegant sway I loved so much. Even drunk he managed to steal my gaze with graceful movement, though the rose-colored lenses I had always viewed him through were in pieces now around my feet and instead of an angel I saw an marble statue, cruelly wonderful and completely unattainable. Sighing, I turned to lean my elbows on the rail of the bridge, watching the rushing water of the river below, grinding away at the earth with excruciating sloth. I sympathized with the hard layers of dirt and clay as I lit up a calming cigarette, thinking how ironic it was that the earth stood stoic, wasting away as the vain river trampled all over, going somewhere and never arriving. That’s all I could ever be to him was nothing…yet at the same time I got the impression that nothing was also the only thing Sakito could ever be to himself.