Pairing: Akame

Synopsis: Kamenashi Kazuya is a producer, a successful figure in the music industry. But something was missing from his life, something closely related to a song he composed with his once closest friend…

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the actual song. This is purely a work of fiction.

Donned in a simple black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans with brown hair grazing his shoulders, Kamenashi Kazuya leant back casually in the high stool he was seated on and allowed his eyelids to fall shut. The recording studio was deadly silent, its lack of noise almost unnerving. Yet, his mind was far from serene. In fact, if his mental state were to be translated into a physical one, he would probably find himself going round and round on a roller coaster at top speed, or alternatively, lost in a crowd of crazy fans at a concert.

He took a deep breath, letting the coolness of the room calm him down, wishing for the chilly air-conditioned particles to soothe his heart as much as it relieved his lungs.

He could do this.

He did not need anyone else to help him rediscover the feeling behind this particular song. At least, he hoped he did not. After being a music producer for so many years, it was probably hard for anyone other than himself to understand that there were still boundaries to his ability. The song that was reverberating in his mind, for example, was one of the largest barriers he had been facing for a long time. It was like reaching a bottleneck at last.

He sighed.

Picking up the guitar resting against his stool, he began strumming, the ease with which his fingers reached for the strings capable of providing comfort to any person who was present to listen. The only thing was that there was no audience to bring consolation towards, and the only person in his recording studio was the only one not receptive to his own music.

How was he to bring out the soul of this melody?

“kono mama mou tsukoshi dake kimi wo kanjitetai
gaadoreeu fukinuketeku shimetta kaze…”

He trailed off after voicing the first two lines of the song. This was no good, he decided. His voice felt flat and lifeless, containing none of the emotions needed for this song. Hope, comfort, and most importantly, love. Certainly, he could draw from past memories such feelings. But this was different. It was this particular song that he could not bring himself to tarnish with deadened emotions, dug out from an almost stoic archive.

If only he were here.

Then there was a soft tap on the door of the studio and he was instantly relieved from lapsing into yet another tiresome journey down memory lane. He shrugged and moved towards the door to allow his visitor into the space he generally reserved for himself. He was making little headway with the music, either way.

It was his good friend, and also ‘partner in crime’, or rather, partner in music, Ueda Tatsuya, looking every bit his famous reputation, in a shirt, dark leather jacket and with styled hair. Ever since Kame had entered the music industry, this was the man he had been working with in producing excellent albums; the man who had helped him in climbing up the status ladder slowly but surely as the years passed.

Ueda nodded towards the guitar in his friend’s arms.

“Try it.”

Kame obliged, and tried once again, in vain, to deliver the song he had been struggling with since before. This time, he forced himself to sing it to the end. Ueda deserved to, at any rate, have a proper chance to hear the full song.

“tadayou mirai ni
tada aishiteru to itte hoshii…”

He finished the last lines of the song and turned to Ueda, as if requesting for feedback. In spite of himself, his heart sank as he saw the other man’s frown. As much as he personally felt the song to be imperfect, he had his own reasons; these reasons were probably different from Ueda’s, who was listening to the music from a more objective view. He feared, for a moment, that he was about to receive criticism for the piece of music that he much treasured and was finally willing to share with another.

“So this is the song you’ve been refusing to play for me all this while?” Ueda asked after a long silence.

“Is it bad?”

To his relief, the other man’s expression softened. “Of course not. I was just wondering why you kept insisting that it isn’t good enough to be released officially as a single.”

“There’s something missing from it.” Kame stated stubbornly.

“You’re looking for the right person to give life to this song, aren’t you?” Ueda asked shrewdly.

Kame stared at him for a few seconds.

“Am I really so transparent that you can read me like a book?”

The other man chuckled. “Maybe.” Then, at the look of horror on his friend’s face, he added, “But that only applies to be, because I’ve been working with you for so long. No cause for worry here.”

“Right.” Kame smiled reluctantly, but soon slipped back into a moody state.

Ueda watched him. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

“If you weren’t Ueda Tatsuya, I’d start thinking that you were psychic.” Kame said jokingly, pretending to pout. Then he continued in a more melancholy tone. “Sometimes, I wonder if it was really my fault for moving overseas to pursue my own education in music. It was like giving up the dream we shared, you know?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“But he should have known that nothing would have culminated in all those little singing sessions we always had at each other’s houses.” Kame said quietly, unable to keep that self-justifying note from creeping into his words. “If either of us really wanted to be successful, we needed more than a little talent and luck.”

“I guess that’s true as well.”

His eyes were now fixed on the ground. “I’m really selfish, aren’t I? Actually, I didn’t compose this song single-handedly. We did it together. But now that I’ve made it big, I’m planning on letting someone else shoot to fame with our composition. It’s disgusting. Because no one will be able to bring out the mood of ‘our story’ as ably as he did.”

‘Our story’, eh? So that’s what the song’s called.  

Ueda smiled to himself. However, he also hated seeing his companion recede into a pool of guilt like this, and cast his mind around for an idea that could help the bad situation take a U-turn. Then something occurred to him and the smile tugged more persistently at the ends of his lips, forcing his grin to widen. “Stop wallowing in depression. I’ve got an idea.”

Kame looked up.

“How about we hold auditions to look for the most suitable singer for this song?”

“Huh?” Kame was skeptical. “And how exactly does this help me?”

“If your childhood friend were still fighting for his dream in music, he would give it a go, wouldn’t he?” Ueda said, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But what if he knows that I’m the producer and doesn’t want to enter this audition because of me?”

“Who’re you kidding? I’m the producer, aren’t I?” Ueda looked pretty triumphant here.

Kame’s expression cleared, but it was barely a few seconds before he began frowning again.

“What if he doesn’t come? What if he’s given up his aspirations since then?”

Ueda’s smile faltered and he looked thoughtful for a while. “Then maybe…” He hesitated, but continued with his sentence anyway.  “Maybe it’s time you gave up as well.”

Kame looked hurt, and Ueda experienced a twinge of regret for saying what he had said, but sometimes you just had to grit your teeth to pull through a bad situation.

“Isn’t this what you told me the last time I fell out of love?” Ueda said gently. “When you’ve been waiting for someone or something for too long, maybe the time has come to accept that it would never come back.”

He lifted his friend’s chin lightly with his fingers, willing those brown orbs to find comfort in his steady gaze. “Believe me, it’ll be over soon, for better or for worse.”

Then, at long last, Kame nodded.

“By the way, you haven’t told me your friend’s name.” Ueda quickly reverted back into his more quirky old self.

Kame raised his eyebrows, contemplating his answer. Then he smirked. “I’ll tell you if I see his name on the application list.”

“Deal.”

***

“Here you go. Please enjoy your meal.” Akanishi Jin gave the customer a polite smile as he placed the steaming bowl of ramen before him setting a pair of chopsticks on its rim. Then, tucking his tray under his arms, he returned to the counter that opened to the kitchen, listening to the radio set on top of it as he waited for the next order he was to deliver.

If he worked for two more months, he would be able to afford that new guitar he had been eyeing since a few weeks back. A silly smile lighted up his beautiful features at this thought. Then his mind drifted back to the inevitable topic. His smile faded a little. What he could not afford, no matter how long he worked part-time at this restaurant, however, was a full-time education in music like Kamenashi Kazuya.

Every time he thought of how his closest friend had left him behind in search of his own future a few years back, a blanket of chill would creep over his heart. Had he forgotten the promises that they had made with each other? Did he even remember that his once best friend, Akanishi Jin, still existed in this world?

Fat chance, Jin, Stop daydreaming. When people become successful, you don’t mean anything to them anymore. He could continue waiting for his friend to return, to tell him that he was sorry for leaving in the first place and to tell him that he needed Jin back in his life to make it whole again… But deep down he knew it could never happen. He could act as though it did not matter to him at all as well, but somehow, things like that were so much easier to imagine than actually carry out.

Damn, thinking about such issues was so frustrating.

The smile that had appeared at the prospect of a new guitar vanished, and he tapped his fingers against the counter absently, listening to the advertisements that blared through the black box that sat a short distance away.

“Do you have a passion for singing? Ever hoped for a chance to make it big in the music industry? Then this is the opportunity for you!”

Jin perked up at the mention of these words, and his full attention was now paid to the man that was speaking from the radio.

“Famous producer Ueda Tatsuya is in search for a fresh voice for his new single, and that person might just be you! Interested parties, all you have to do is simply send in your application before the following date…” Then followed an address and a given date, both of which Jin memorized in a flash. The chirpy voice of the announcer echoed in his head even after the advertisement had long passed. He thought about the date stated. It was three weeks from now.

Jin had not been able to bring himself to enter the various singing competitions that he had heard of for the past few years, no matter how much he wished to do so, for his voice was never complete without his best friend’s accompaniment.

However, he knew it was time to put that all behind his back. He had been teaching himself to play the guitar for a while now, and with the new instrument he was about to buy, he decided that he would give himself that chance.

He would be as successful as Kame was currently. And he would meet him again one day, to show him that he could do just as well without his help.

Jin’s jaw was set as he imagined the coming of this day.

Though one thing he also knew was that the road upwards would definitely be lonely and difficult, and definitely much more so than the days he had been leading since his friend had left his side. He squeezed his eyes shut and fingered the old ring around his pinky. People always said that to wear a ring on your last finger signified the end of a relationship, though Jin and Kame had never once taken those words to heart. Well, it brought their relationship to an end, alright. Who knew that Kame would abandon him in the end? It probably did pay to have wealthy parents.

His heart gave a painful clench.

“Pull yourself together, Akanishi Jin. You can do this.” He straightened up and placed a steaming bowl of ramen onto his tray, preparing to deliver it to the next table, and hoping with all his heart that his will would be as strong as his words. Determination was one thing that he knew was never easy to maintain.

***

The days passed much faster than Kame had expected, and before he knew it, he found himself seated behind a long table with Ueda and a few competent others, waiting for the list of applicants to be delivered, and for the long awaited auditions to begin.

There was a tap on his shoulder, and a few clipboards were handed to him. Passing the rest of the clipboards to his fellows, Kame scanned the list of applicants collated and clipped to his own. His heart was pounding as his eyes took in name after name, listed on page after page…

There it was. He had reached the end of the entire list, and there it was, in black and white.

He nudged Ueda quietly, pointing to the very last name.

“Ah… So he’s called Akanishi Jin?”

Kame nodded mutely, his pulse now uneven with apprehension that he knew was showing on his face.

“I’m looking forward to hearing his voice. After all, not many can make our Kamenashi Kazuya go pale with nervousness and anticipation like that. ” He poked fun at the man seated beside him, chortling.

Kame stared at the black space before the long table, lounging in his chair and contemplating all sorts of possible scenarios that could happen afterward. It would not be long before Jin appeared before his very eyes once more. What would his reaction be, when he saw Kame? Would he refuse to participate in the auditions? Would he smile? Or would he not even acknowledge Kame’s existence?

Whatever it was, Kame only hoped it would not cause the other man even more hurt, for the last thing he wanted to see was those soulful eyes looking downcast once more.

***

Jin walked slowly towards the restaurant he had been working at since the departure of his best friend. Today was the day of the auditions. He had sent in his application with the encouragement of a friend at his working place, but did not know if he should turn up. He had head that Ueda Tatsuya often worked with Kame. What if Kame was there to view the auditions as well?

Stopping in front of his workplace, he hesitated, glancing at his watch. If he rushed to the music company now, he might be able to make it in time. But…  

“Jin! What’re you doing here?” He heard the familiar voice of his co-worker, Taguchi Junnoske, come from behind. He spun around.

“I –”

“Aren’t you going for the auditions today?”

Jin was filled with uncertainty, a feeling he had never once experienced towards music. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do.”

“I envy people with aspirations to speak of, you know? It’s like having a direction in life, having a goal to work towards. It’s all you have to do to realize these aims. It’s all I want to find a dream like you guys.” His friend offered him a smile, and patted him on the shoulder. “Brace yourself. Come on, be brave. Chase your dreams.”

Jin did not know what to say. It was easy to be a coward, but taking the first step was proving more challenging than imagined.

***