[ For someone who has his trade in being quick on the upkeep, who anticipates the next line and has already lined up his own response, Sasara doesn't know what he expects Rosho to say once the words fall off his tongue. Ain't it that confessions are meant for anticipated things, for something that comes with your heart skipping a beat? He feels a weight drop in his stomach instead, not even his chest pounding. ]
I–I...
[ He wants to answer and end the deafening silence himself just before Rosho speaks again. But this way or that, nothing much comes out when he tries to. The first person he saw in Samatoki was Rosho. It's something he can't deny, but can't confess either, as he looks at his partner right now. ]
When I met the guy... I...
[ ...tried to grab onto what had just slipped out of reach. Tried to desperately sink his fingers into it. Samatoki hated his jokes right away...! It didn't work out the same right until the very end.
Ah, no way, if he thinks about it his head starts hurting. Sasara presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. His voice sounds even thinner than at the start of this confession. ]
R-Rosho... the stuff that happened back in Tokyo... S-sorry, I– somehow, I—!
[ Rosho can't figure out if he's angry or not. Maybe he should be. To think that he had a sole purpose in Sasara's life for all this time, even after they'd broken up, a place where only he fit... only to find out someone else had taken that spot when he was gone. And all this time he never knew. That Samatoki Aohitsugi would have been a part of Sasara's life when Rosho couldn't be there, not as his partner, not as anything, just a memory of an experience he could no longer have. Its frustrating. He's upset. There's a lot he could say or do, but even as his hands ball into fists at his sides the only thing he can think about is just how stupid this all is.
He stares Sasara down like an adult ready to scold a child but Sasara won't even look him in the eyes. He seems... small, and fragile, like he could break at any moment, like if he were to move his hands from his eyes a dam would burst.
This isn't how he wanted things to turn out. There's no benefit in making Sasara this upset.
In the end, he can't be mad at him. Rosho puts a hand on Sasara's shoulder. ]
I can't say I understand why you never talked to me about this until now. But, whatever the reason... its okay. They're your experiences. Your memories. They're important to you in your own way. Even negative things are good. Mistakes, consequences, things that hurt us. Thats how you grow. You wouldn't be how you are now without any of those things. Going to Tokyo, being with Samatoki. All the things you did and all the people you must have met. Back then you were a lot better at that than me. After we broke up, I thought I'd messed up so badly, as if... maybe somehow, I'd done something to you. Like you just wouldn't be yourself anymore. And so all this time I didn't know how you were doing. I should have checked up on you. I should've asked you how you were. Instead it was like, I... I'd just abandoned you. Even though there was no reason for me to do that.
[ He squeezes Sasara's shoulder. Like a reminder that he's still there, even though he couldn't be all those years ago. Rosho remembers watching Sasara show up on TV with that brilliant expression of his, and yet no matter how he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Not the regret of what he'd done.
But the fact that he'd watch him and realize that maybe, just maybe, the reality wasn't that Sasara missed him. Maybe his guilt and regret was all his own. That person he shared a dream with when he was younger. Maybe he was doing just fine.
Maybe, it was Rosho that hoped Sasara was the one that still needed him. And when he never heard anything from him, Rosho needed to find the strength to keep going himself. If Sasara could do it then why couldn't he? If Sasara was happy, why couldn't he be?
Why couldn't he be as strong as Sasara was? Why couldn't he be as talented? Why couldn't he be the same?
His voice seizes in his throat for a moment. ]
You must've been happy. I'm sure. So, don't apologize. It should be me. I'm sorry for making you feel guilty. You... you really were able to do so many amazing things, ya know. Its true. [ He grips Sasara's other shoulder. ]
Look at everything you've been able to do. Look at how far you got. From us being at school together, making our routines in your apartment— you, who said that we'd do it together, but I couldn't. That didn't stop you at all. When you came back all on your own, it was like none of that happened, and you're so popular now! Look at how you are now! You, you didn't need me, for any of that...
[ It ain't like he understands, either... This whole thing, though, it's that it goes hand in hand with parts Sasara himself still doesn't get. Inklings aren't enough to say, so in all this time he figured saying nothing was enough if only he decided so.
When Rosho says that it's okay, regardless, in some twisted way that's when the guilt really strikes him. His hands fall from his face as Rosho grabs his shoulders and curl instead into the front of his partner's shirt. Just like you'd catch yourself somewhere, somehow, if you tripped.
He couldn't see Rosho from the other side of the TV, looking in. ]
Maybe, the way we turned out...
[ Even if he makes fun of Rosho's forever studious, teacher-ly side, that doesn't belong in front of the cameras anymore. When he's got his own stage (🥁) to stand on although he doesn't end the night with cheers and autographs it's just right, ain't it?
And yet... ] E-Even so...!
[ All his own success and the limelight Sasara truly enjoys, you want what you don't—can't—have. ]
I wanted it to be the two of us... Together. R-Rosho... I feel like I'm the one who failed ya. E-Even now, 'cause I never told ya...
[ He thinks back to that moment on his mother's couch, staring with distant eyes at the program on the television. The uproar of laughter from the audience. Sasara's boisterous voice, his vibrant smile, growing ever wider at the response of his performance. Still brilliant. Still talented. Like nothing had ever changed. He stood on that little stage, yet Rosho remembers it feeling so big and wide and imposing. That's where Sasara belonged. That was like home.
He could have been right beside him, there on the television, the same exact place. All this time, he could have... without ever knowing Sasara wanted the same thing. Rosho tells himself he's happy the way he is now. Thats true. But he could never acknowledge that wasn't the real story. That wasn't the case at all.
As a teacher, he was happy. His heart and soul went into the dreams of all his students. Even without a goal thats where he found his purpose. All of it, every part of himself.
All except a little piece. The part he left on that stage.
And he knew he'd never get it back. ]
Stop it.
[ Rosho doesn't know if he's talking to himself or Sasara. Really its both. He grips him more tightly, fingers itching to shake him, to rattle out the last of the feelings that are pouring out of him more and more. The things Rosho always wanted to say.
Its always been like this. Sasara's always been so much stronger. If only... if only he was more like him... if only he'd been stronger too. ]
You... stupid, I...!
[ If only. ]
Me too. I wanted—!
[ If only. ]
I wanted to stay.
[ His voice cracks as tears begin to creep to the surface, suddenly, and they spill and he can't stop them. He doesn't even care about Samatoki anymore. He doesn't care about Sasara going to Tokyo. It wasn't about being abandoned or betrayed, it wasn't about being hurt, it wasn't that Sasara had ever done anything wrong.
Its just that, all this time, he never said it. Then and now. That he didn't want to leave. That he wanted to stay.
He wanted them to always be together. He wanted it to be the two of them too. ]
[ He's left with his mouth open, not another sound to his babbling—senseless or not, Sasara doesn't know what he's saying anymore. Everything about Tokyo for him to admit is fractioned, shattered. And the things he wants to say about, to Rosho are carved just about as deep into his heart, that as it scarred it'd somehow still kept beating. Even if Sasara went on to perform, to fame, to a whole life in the limelight, there's also a part of him that stayed, with Rosho, behind the curtain. It's in the very place he steps back into after every show.
Stop... An echo of it rings in his ears.
Like the moon and sun, they can't be in the same place. It's only so that, just once in a while, they'll be together in the sky. Sasara still stands without a word as Rosho's tears overwhelm the dam of his own conviction. Because of the pain they drive like a hot nail, Sasara never wanted him to say those words either. But he did want to hear them, yet, somehow. ]
...Rosho...
[ All of his pointless poking and prodding, and letting it spill out from some well his own selfish wants–
He never knew. ]
I-If I... so, if I... [ What if he'd just asked him to stay? Rosho, with tears streaming down his face now, looks like the man Sasara opened his door to without knowing it'd be the last time he stood there. "Okay," he said. Sasara doesn't recognize his own voice in that memory. It's where his mind starts to blur the picture, when he tries to think about Tokyo, about Samatoki. ]
[ His face feels so hot like its on fire, and yet somehow the tears streaming down his cheeks don't seem to make him feel any better. Odd how its the same sensation he felt all those years ago standing in front of Sasara's apartment door, soaked to the bone from the rain outside, and yet back then he couldn't even tell that he'd been crying. He couldn't notice the cold either, or the way his clothes clung to his skin. All he could do was look at Sasara's face. As the rain continued to pour down and all he could hear were his own words and Sasara's single response. And how he wished he stayed. How he wished he'd said something else. He wished it'd been different.
You can't change the mistakes from the past. You can only learn from them, and grow stronger, and stronger, and make better decisions with confidence and strength. Perhaps maybe that's the only shining light to come from their duo's break up. It taught Rosho to cling on tight to the things he cares about, to protect the hopes and dreams of other people so they'd never have to go through what he had to go through. No one deserves that sort of pain.
Maybe this time... one more time, just for himself, he can protect what he wants. Not a silly dream of being a comedian, but of being with an old dear friend he never wanted to part from. ]
"If ya just ask".... stupid.
[ Rosho's laugh is almost hidden beneath a sniffle, his smile all wobbly and crooked, he can't stop crying. ]
This time, there's no need to even ask me. I'm happy that ya would, but, really...
[ Another sniffle and his smile disappears as his lips waver, the words jumbled up in his head, the things he's been wanting to say but never could ever since that break-up. He's tired of regrets. He won't let Sasara make this decision for them again. ]
Sasara, ya know, I... I think...
[ He takes Sasara's hand in his own and squeezes it tight. His own reassurance but for Sasara's as well. ]
I'm the one that's the biggest idiot. For not bein' more honest like you.
[ Rosho rubs at his nose and wet cheeks. He feels like such a mess, this is so embarrassing and kind of gross. He feels kind of pathetic. How many years did this take? To lay his weaknesses bare to Sasara without any fear? Too many.
Even without comedy, they'll always be a duo. A pair. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
glossophobia / isleofavalon
[ For someone who has his trade in being quick on the upkeep, who anticipates the next line and has already lined up his own response, Sasara doesn't know what he expects Rosho to say once the words fall off his tongue. Ain't it that confessions are meant for anticipated things, for something that comes with your heart skipping a beat? He feels a weight drop in his stomach instead, not even his chest pounding. ]
I–I...
[ He wants to answer and end the deafening silence himself just before Rosho speaks again. But this way or that, nothing much comes out when he tries to. The first person he saw in Samatoki was Rosho. It's something he can't deny, but can't confess either, as he looks at his partner right now. ]
When I met the guy... I...
[ ...tried to grab onto what had just slipped out of reach. Tried to desperately sink his fingers into it. Samatoki hated his jokes right away...! It didn't work out the same right until the very end.
Ah, no way, if he thinks about it his head starts hurting. Sasara presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. His voice sounds even thinner than at the start of this confession. ]
R-Rosho... the stuff that happened back in Tokyo... S-sorry, I– somehow, I—!
no subject
He stares Sasara down like an adult ready to scold a child but Sasara won't even look him in the eyes. He seems... small, and fragile, like he could break at any moment, like if he were to move his hands from his eyes a dam would burst.
This isn't how he wanted things to turn out. There's no benefit in making Sasara this upset.
In the end, he can't be mad at him. Rosho puts a hand on Sasara's shoulder. ]
I can't say I understand why you never talked to me about this until now. But, whatever the reason... its okay. They're your experiences. Your memories. They're important to you in your own way. Even negative things are good. Mistakes, consequences, things that hurt us. Thats how you grow. You wouldn't be how you are now without any of those things. Going to Tokyo, being with Samatoki. All the things you did and all the people you must have met. Back then you were a lot better at that than me. After we broke up, I thought I'd messed up so badly, as if... maybe somehow, I'd done something to you. Like you just wouldn't be yourself anymore. And so all this time I didn't know how you were doing. I should have checked up on you. I should've asked you how you were. Instead it was like, I... I'd just abandoned you. Even though there was no reason for me to do that.
[ He squeezes Sasara's shoulder. Like a reminder that he's still there, even though he couldn't be all those years ago. Rosho remembers watching Sasara show up on TV with that brilliant expression of his, and yet no matter how he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Not the regret of what he'd done.
But the fact that he'd watch him and realize that maybe, just maybe, the reality wasn't that Sasara missed him. Maybe his guilt and regret was all his own. That person he shared a dream with when he was younger. Maybe he was doing just fine.
Maybe, it was Rosho that hoped Sasara was the one that still needed him. And when he never heard anything from him, Rosho needed to find the strength to keep going himself. If Sasara could do it then why couldn't he? If Sasara was happy, why couldn't he be?
Why couldn't he be as strong as Sasara was? Why couldn't he be as talented? Why couldn't he be the same?
His voice seizes in his throat for a moment. ]
You must've been happy. I'm sure. So, don't apologize. It should be me. I'm sorry for making you feel guilty. You... you really were able to do so many amazing things, ya know. Its true. [ He grips Sasara's other shoulder. ]
Look at everything you've been able to do. Look at how far you got. From us being at school together, making our routines in your apartment— you, who said that we'd do it together, but I couldn't. That didn't stop you at all. When you came back all on your own, it was like none of that happened, and you're so popular now! Look at how you are now! You, you didn't need me, for any of that...
no subject
When Rosho says that it's okay, regardless, in some twisted way that's when the guilt really strikes him. His hands fall from his face as Rosho grabs his shoulders and curl instead into the front of his partner's shirt. Just like you'd catch yourself somewhere, somehow, if you tripped.
He couldn't see Rosho from the other side of the TV, looking in. ]
Maybe, the way we turned out...
[ Even if he makes fun of Rosho's forever studious, teacher-ly side, that doesn't belong in front of the cameras anymore. When he's got his own stage
(🥁)to stand on although he doesn't end the night with cheers and autographs it's just right, ain't it?And yet... ] E-Even so...!
[ All his own success and the limelight Sasara truly enjoys, you want what you don't—can't—have. ]
I wanted it to be the two of us... Together. R-Rosho... I feel like I'm the one who failed ya. E-Even now, 'cause I never told ya...
no subject
He could have been right beside him, there on the television, the same exact place. All this time, he could have... without ever knowing Sasara wanted the same thing. Rosho tells himself he's happy the way he is now. Thats true. But he could never acknowledge that wasn't the real story. That wasn't the case at all.
As a teacher, he was happy. His heart and soul went into the dreams of all his students. Even without a goal thats where he found his purpose. All of it, every part of himself.
All except a little piece. The part he left on that stage.
And he knew he'd never get it back. ]
Stop it.
[ Rosho doesn't know if he's talking to himself or Sasara. Really its both. He grips him more tightly, fingers itching to shake him, to rattle out the last of the feelings that are pouring out of him more and more. The things Rosho always wanted to say.
Its always been like this. Sasara's always been so much stronger. If only... if only he was more like him... if only he'd been stronger too. ]
You... stupid, I...!
[ If only. ]
Me too. I wanted—!
[ If only. ]
I wanted to stay.
[ His voice cracks as tears begin to creep to the surface, suddenly, and they spill and he can't stop them. He doesn't even care about Samatoki anymore. He doesn't care about Sasara going to Tokyo. It wasn't about being abandoned or betrayed, it wasn't about being hurt, it wasn't that Sasara had ever done anything wrong.
Its just that, all this time, he never said it. Then and now. That he didn't want to leave. That he wanted to stay.
He wanted them to always be together. He wanted it to be the two of them too. ]
no subject
Stop... An echo of it rings in his ears.
Like the moon and sun, they can't be in the same place. It's only so that, just once in a while, they'll be together in the sky. Sasara still stands without a word as Rosho's tears overwhelm the dam of his own conviction. Because of the pain they drive like a hot nail, Sasara never wanted him to say those words either. But he did want to hear them, yet, somehow. ]
...Rosho...
[ All of his pointless poking and prodding, and letting it spill out from some well his own selfish wants–
He never knew. ]
I-If I... so, if I... [ What if he'd just asked him to stay? Rosho, with tears streaming down his face now, looks like the man Sasara opened his door to without knowing it'd be the last time he stood there. "Okay," he said. Sasara doesn't recognize his own voice in that memory. It's where his mind starts to blur the picture, when he tries to think about Tokyo, about Samatoki. ]
This time... i-if I just ask ya to stay...?
no subject
You can't change the mistakes from the past. You can only learn from them, and grow stronger, and stronger, and make better decisions with confidence and strength. Perhaps maybe that's the only shining light to come from their duo's break up. It taught Rosho to cling on tight to the things he cares about, to protect the hopes and dreams of other people so they'd never have to go through what he had to go through. No one deserves that sort of pain.
Maybe this time... one more time, just for himself, he can protect what he wants. Not a silly dream of being a comedian, but of being with an old dear friend he never wanted to part from. ]
"If ya just ask".... stupid.
[ Rosho's laugh is almost hidden beneath a sniffle, his smile all wobbly and crooked, he can't stop crying. ]
This time, there's no need to even ask me. I'm happy that ya would, but, really...
[ Another sniffle and his smile disappears as his lips waver, the words jumbled up in his head, the things he's been wanting to say but never could ever since that break-up. He's tired of regrets. He won't let Sasara make this decision for them again. ]
Sasara, ya know, I... I think...
[ He takes Sasara's hand in his own and squeezes it tight. His own reassurance but for Sasara's as well. ]
I'm the one that's the biggest idiot. For not bein' more honest like you.
[ Rosho rubs at his nose and wet cheeks. He feels like such a mess, this is so embarrassing and kind of gross. He feels kind of pathetic. How many years did this take? To lay his weaknesses bare to Sasara without any fear? Too many.
Even without comedy, they'll always be a duo. A pair. ]
I get it now. That, I need you to be with me.