Takeru Takaishi Week [Day 6 prompt: Sunshine/Happiness]
Yup...still slowly making my way through the prompts. Also, I’d like to dedicate this story to @dnofsunshine, because we both like to see Takeru suffer for some reasons hee hee
Title: Midnight Rain
Character: Takeru Takaishi (for @takerutakaishiweek )
Word Count: 4030
Rating: T
Summary: Takeru never thought that in his early 20s, he could embody loneliness to this degree. Despite being surrounded by people that seemingly cared for him, he felt utterly alone, at a magnitude that terrified him to his core.
Cross-posted on AO3
Read below the cut 👇
Midnight Rain
Lately, Takeru has unearthed a peculiar heaviness in his corpse.
He has no explanation for it, no theories of origin or cause, only that it feels all encompassing, like he could suffocate from the inside out. There were mornings he woke up crying, and nights he felt so numb, he thought his limbs had somehow severed from his worthless body.
During afternoons walking home from school with friends, or early evening dinners with his mother, he hid the heaviness behind evasive smiles, donning on interesting hats or crisp shirts so the world would attend to the primpings on the outside, and he could divert their attention from the black hole consuming his innards.
Takeru never thought that in his early 20s, he could embody loneliness to this degree. Despite being surrounded by people that seemingly cared for him, he felt utterly alone, at a magnitude that terrified him to his core.
This morning, Takeru woke up drowning. The heaviness felt so vivid, like a galaxy of dark holes had found residency within his soul. From somewhere faraway, he heard the muffled trills of his cell phone rings, piercing through the dark clouds against all odds. Luckily, the device was within an arm’s reach, but he suspected if it was a few centimetres further, he wouldn’t have found the will to answer the call, and perhaps he would have stayed frozen…for how long, he would never know.
“Hello?” he responded in a voice thick with sleep.
“Good morning, sunshine boy,” came Yamato’s voice, impatient and serious like always.
Takeru flinched at his given moniker. Sunshine boy. He couldn’t be sure of how or when it started, only that it spread around their tight group of friends quicker than he would have liked.
“Are you seriously still in bed?” came Yamato’s indignant question.
“Umm…” he began, but found his words drowned in a stagnant bog.
“I thought you had class this morning,” Yamato quipped.
Finally, his muscles unearthed itself. Barely, but enough for him to graze his temple with the tips of his icy fingers.
Did he have class this morning?
“What…what day is it?”
“Were you out partying again last night?” Yamato demanded.
Takeru sighed. Maybe that was the cause for the heaviness in his bone. Maybe he drank so much that he couldn’t remember, and the heaviness was the punishment for his careless actions.
“Umm…Maybe?”
Yamato clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Jesus, Takeru, when will you grow up?”
Takeru flinched at the question. It seemed everyone had been asking him that question lately, both directly by his family, and indirectly by his friends who excelled at everything they do.
“For your information, today is Wednesday, and do you remember what that means?”
Realization dawned on him, “It’s…mom’s birthday”
“Exactly. We have that dinner tonight to celebrate”
The weight on his chest deepened, until he was certain the black holes had consumed every atom in his body. His skin crawled at the thought of all those people at the restaurant, at the smiles he would have to force on, the contrived conversations, fake laughters, all the strategies he would have to put in place to hide himself from the people that knew him.
For a moment, he felt for certain that he couldn’t - and wouldn’t - survive. But then an idea struck him…
Maybe…just maybe…he didn’t want to survive.
The thought was so enticing and chilling, it left him breathless.
“Takeru?”
He snapped back at the voice, the sharpness in Yamato’s voice awoke something in him, and he finally managed to force his body up to a sitting position.
“Takeru? Are you listening? Are you still there?”
There was a long pause on the other end, during which, Takeru could hear his heart hammering loudly, fearing that at long last, Yamato could sense that something wasn’t right, that Takeru was no longer aligned with how the world saw him. Panic seized his muscle, the heaviness that once reigned his body became a jittery restlessness that propelled him from his bed.
Sunshine boy. No matter what, he had to remain everyone’s sunshine boy. It was the only way he could ward off the creeping tendrils of failure.
“Uh…yeah…yeah, sorry Yamato…I’m up. It was just…uhh…wild night last night.”
Yamato sighed, and he swore he could see his older brother shake his head through the phone. He swallowed the fear and forced on his mask, asking the question he knew his brother expected of his smartass brother.
“Let me guess…You wish you were there with me?”
Yamato clicked his tongue, “Whatever, Takeru…I just want to make sure you have the gifts ready for mom.”
“Of course, and I have it addressed from the both of us, since you were too busy to get her a gift yourself”
“That’s not…we spoke about this…you get the gifts because you would know what to get mom.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”
“And the flowers?”
“Yes, yes, I’m picking it up from Hikari after class.”
“Alright…see you tonight, then.”
“Okay.”
Without saying goodbye, Yamato’s line went dead, and Takeru was left frozen in his silent bedroom once again.
Now that the stage was clear, he could remove the sunny veil he hid behind and immersed himself in the darkness once again. Familiar tears stung his vision, but he held them back, pushing it desperately back into his eyes. He took in a shuddering breath, and as the stale air hit his lungs, he became acutely aware of the exhaustion that soaked his bone.
He tilted his face towards his bedroom window to catch a glimpse of the sun spilling in between drawn curtains. The light desperate to claw its way towards him, but fell short a few feet as he laid panting on his bed.
“Sunshine boy,” he whispered, “You can do it, sunshine boy.”
But just for once in his life, he wondered if he could seek permission to draw the curtain close on this act he found himself playing day after day after day after day…
—
Hikari spent the majority of her hours after school in a flower shop at the junction between Takeru’s and her college. They both knew it was an in-between gig to scrape together pocket money while they were in school, and even though Hikari lamented that it was a dead end job, Takeru thought it was universes better than where he was, since all he had to show for himself were half-written resumes and odd jobs with his mother.
He entered the flower shop that afternoon, an indistinguishable but pleasant mix of aroma hitting him all at once while the bells above rang out its greeting. The shop was empty of patrons, the only occupant being Hikari by the counter arranging roses in a vase.
Her face usually lit up when he walked through the door, a fresh light that resembles the shine of the early morning sun. But today, Takeru sensed a slight shadow, like clouds passing by on a pleasant afternoon. Unlike Takeru, Hikari allowed the hue of sadness to tinge her features when she felt them, so Takeru knew the happiness that graced her features was hers and hers alone, and similarly, he could also pick up on the bouts of grey that might dabble her light.
He often wondered what it would be like, to allow himself to feel all the sadness hiding behind his sunny demeanour. The thought both scared and exhilarated him.
Hikari waved him over, the innocuous glide of her fingers summoning him to the stage once again. Despite the paramount exhaustion that haunted his spirit, he accepted the role, putting on his mask and flooding his features with the fluorescent light of his sunshine boy smile.
“I’m here to break you out,” he informed her in an exaggerated whisper once he was near enough to the counter.
Hikari giggled, “I wish, but it’s another two hours before the store closes, then another hour of clean-up before I can actually leave.”
Takeru winked, “That’s why I’m breaking you out.”
Hikari rolled her eyes in response, but otherwise ignored his attempts at engaging with her, devoting her attention instead to the flowers she was arranging. Despite her donning on a casual smile, the grey clouds burgeoned before his trained eyes. He took it as a cue to assume another role, one that he perfected and embodied just for Hikari.
The hero.
“Is everything okay?” he asked in a firm voice that unsettled even himself. He imagined the question echoed back at him from another voice…
Is everything okay?
…the idea of answering such a simple question shook the very ground he stood on.
“Of course,” Hikari responded without changing her position, her eyes still trained on the flowers before her, her fingers moving diligently through each stem.
But Takeru was unconvinced. He pressed his fingers on top of her gloved hands, stopping her work and finally summoning her eyes towards him.
“What’s wrong?” He repeated the question.
Hikari sighed and abandoned the flowers, peeling both gloves off in one concise movement. Takeru could sense her defenses tumbling down, the curtains unfurling to allow him in.
“You always seem to know…” she conceded with a sheepish smile.
“You should know by now, Hikari…that’s kind of my superpower”
Hikari rolled her eyes, but nevertheless, Takeru knew the walls had tumbled down. Hikari brushed aside the flowers on the counter and laid soft eyes on him.
“You’ll think I’m silly,” Hikari asserted.
“Never”
Hikari bit her lips, her fingers digging into her elbow before she finally offered a response.
“I’m just worried…I’ll never catch up to everyone else around me, Takeru.”
Takeru’s heart dropped. He opened his mouth to offer a response, but Hikari marched on, her eyes now downcast to study the flowers resting between them on the marble counter.
“I know it’s…it’s a silly thing to worry about…but…I look at everyone, and they all have their lives figured out, they’re all doing amazing things like travelling the world and working big girl jobs, and here I am, pruning leaves and arranging flowers in vases. What if I’m stuck here forever?”
“Of course you won’t be,” Takeru countered.
Hikari offered a sad smile, “I don’t think you get it, Takeru, but…that’s okay. I wouldn’t expect someone so confident and happy to understand this type of turmoil.”
Takeru’s knees shook hard. He had to stabilize himself by placing a trembling hand on the counter.
If only she knew.
“Come now, Hikari. So you’re feeling a little uncertain about your life at the moment, but who doesn’t? It’s normal to feel that way. What’s important is that you still haven’t given up on yourself, and besides,you’re already worlds above so many other people. You have a career goal, friends that love you, family that will be there for you. ”
Hikari tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ears and shook her head, a smile of disbelief teasing her lips “How do you do it, Takeru?”
“Do what?”
“How do you always have this boundless positivity? How do you hold onto hope day after day after day the way you do?”
If Takeru had a mirror before him, he wouldn’t be surprised to find his reflection pale and gaunt, for he could feel it all. He could feel the blood draining from his face, the ghosts of his failure haunting his every move, stealing his words away from his tongue. But luckily, Hikari responded for him, and although he was certain she meant for it to be a compliment, the statement iced his blood and shattered his heart.
“I guess that’s why you are the child of hope.”
The only response Takeru could give was a tilted smile, relishing in the disconnect between his reputation and the distressing world beneath his flesh. Luckily, Hikari seemed none the wiser.
He prefers it that way.
“Oh…I’ll be right back…”
Her words trailed off. She then slipped past a set of string curtains to a room in the back, leaving Takeru alone with the flowers around him. For a moment, Takeru thought he could collapse into a heap of skin and bone in the quiet store and allowed his spirit to float away, but before the tears could fall, Hikari returned with a vase he guessed was his mother’s birthday flowers.
He blew a whistle of admiration as she placed it down before him.
“I hope your mom will like it.”
Takeru nodded and studied the arrangements in depth. Shooting tall from a bed of baby’s-breath and decorative leaves were two types of lilies of Hikari’s choosing.
“You remembered lilies were my mom’s favourite” Takeru commented with a genuine smile.
Hikari’s face reddened, she gestured to the different flowers in her arrangement and began narrating her work.
“The blue orchids represent Yamato, because blue represents calm and openness, something I know your brother and mother had to work hard at to achieve after years of absences in each other’s lives”
Takeru nodded. He knew what the yellow meant, and he could feel his inside flip as he waited for Hikari to say the inevitable.
“And of course, the yellow represents you, because you are sunshine and happiness, not only to your mom, but to all of us.”
His insides pinched violently. He stuffed his fists in his pocket, if only in an attempt to hide the tremor from Hikari’s watchful eyes.
“They’re absolutely beautiful. I think…I know my mom will love it.”
Hikari beamed, the light hitting her features at all the right angles.
“Oh…oh, I’m so glad, Takeru…I wish I could be there to see her face when she receives it.”
“I’ll take pictures and send them to you, I promise.”
He gathered the vase up into his arms, moving it carefully so as not to ruin Hikari’s arrangements.
“Thanks again, Hikari.”
Hikari returned the smile, “No…no, thank you, Takeru. Thank you for always being there for me, thank you for always knowing the right thing to say, thank you…for being the sunshine in all our lives.”
His mouth went dry, but somehow, he managed to pull himself together enough to respond, and when he spoke, he was shocked at how sturdy and self-assured he sounded, as if he was losing touch with the facade he put forward on stage each and every day of his frauding life.
“Don’t mention it, Hikari. After all, that’s my job as the chosen child of hope”
—
“You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re almost there.”
He scrutinized his reflections in the finger-smudged bathroom mirror. Beyond the swinging doors, he could hear music and laughter filtering through, snippets of scandalous conversations bellowed out in voices loud and quiet.
He wondered what others truly see when they lay their eyes on him, for all he ever saw in moments like this, during intermissions between acts of his one-man show, was a pale boy desperately fitting the embattled masks over his exhausted features.
He inhaled deeply, then wrinkled his nose at the stench of cigarette smoke and stale room fresheners.
“You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re almost there,” he repeated the mantra.
His watch was telling him it was nearly 10 PM, and considering that they were in between the main and dessert course, he estimated another half-hour at the restaurant, a potential for 15 if he leans into his lie about an early morning class tomorrow.
“Survival is just around the corner.”
He exited the bathroom, then made his way back to the private dining room at the secluded corner of the busy restaurant. Drawing the curtain aside revealed the boisterous party, his mother sitting close with her partner of two years, surrounded by a sea of her family, friends, and coworkers. Yamato was included on one side, beside an empty chair that was designated as his.
Immediately, Yamato stood up. Takeru watched as he sidestepped the crowd carefully before he came up beside him.
“There you are! Listen, the cake is coming and…we thought once it’s here, maybe you could say something before we break into song and dance and all that jazz.”
“Me?” he surveyed the room with wide eyes, taking in the familiar and strange faces before him.
“Yeah…we thought it’d be a good idea, you know…since you’re good at these sorts of things.”
“Takeru, what took you so long?” his mother called out before he could respond to his older brother’s request.
Despite the haze of exhaustion, Takeru straightened his posture and waved back at her. But before any further words could be exchanged, there was a clamour before them, followed by his mother’s birthday cake being wheeled in by several wait staff. His mother laughed and clapped her hands in delight, while applause erupted around them.
Amidst the celebration, he felt a tug on his arm, and looked up to see Yamato ushering him up a small raised platform. Countless pairs of eyes turned on him, and despite his mouth becoming bone dry and his head spinning like no tomorrow, he felt something heavy thrusted into his grasp and looked down to find a black microphone.
He gulped, but then his eyes strayed over to his mother’s, and Takeru could not help but admire the delicate glow on her aging face. After years of watching her work herself to the bone to raise him, he was truly thankful for moments where he could bask in his mother’s happiness.
I hope you know, Takeru, how much I love you. Everything I do, I do for you, because you’re my little sunshine.
It was his mother’s birthday. The least he could do was push himself a little further and finish up his role as sunshine boy.
He put on his smile, tightening the grip on his mic as he began speaking.
“They say everything in this universe rests on a foundation it owes itself to, from the roots of the thousand-year old trees you only see in magazines, to the source of breathtaking rivers giving life to everything around it. Mom, you are the sturdy land I’ve anchored myself on all my life. Without you working hard and sacrificing everything, I don’t think I’d be half the man I am today. So thank you mom, and happy birthday.”
The room erupted in applause once again as he returned to his seat. Natsuko turned to him, her fingers hastily wiping away tears before she clutched Takeru’s hand between hers.
“Thank you, Takeru. Thank you so much. You really do have a way with words.”
Takeru cleared his throat and smiled, which was enough of a cue for his mother to continue.
“Do you know what I want for my birthday, Takeru?”
Takeru threaded his eyebrows together, but otherwise kept silent as he responded with a shrug.
“I want…I want you to remain happy forever, Takeru. For my birthday wish, I wish for you to never lose the light that defines your aura, Takeru. I want you to be the sunshine in my life, for as long as possible.”
Despite an overwhelming urge to crawl underneath the table and cry, Takeru nodded, his facade sharpening with the conviction of his rehearsed smile.
“Don’t worry mom, you can count on me. I’ll always be your sunshine, I promise.”
—
It was pushing midnight before Takeru found himself an escape route from the party. Quietly and carefully, he slipped out of the restaurant like a shadow without a body, leaving behind half-eaten slices of cake and empty bottles of booze.
He knew his mother wouldn’t be returning to their apartment tonight, but will opt for a night with her boyfriend instead. His brother was passed out in a corner after one too many sake, so as long as he messaged Sora at the right time to bring him home, he would have fulfilled his duty as a diligent little brother.
Finally, there was silence.
For a child that grew up wishing for the excited buzz of a happy home, he found it surprising how much he craved lonely evenings like these, when he could shed the costumes and props of the role he assigned himself to play, and simply be himself.
But still, during quiet moments like these, when there was no escape from the voices inside his head, he was faced with the realization that the inside of his head is what scared him the most.
He turned the corner of the street he was on and found himself facing a lonely bridge overlooking the Tokyo river. Beneath concrete grounds, he could hear the rush of water streaming through, and if he leaned into it and listened carefully, he could hear something else, too, a hushed whisper calling out to him in a sing-song voice.
Takeru…
In spite of his exhaustion, electricity jolted his muscles. He moved closer to the bridge’s edge, listening to the voices calling out to him again.
Takeru...Takeru…
He shivered. There was something so foreboding, yet comforting about the voice, it sent a chill up his spine.
With difficulty, he tilted his head up towards the dark sky, the clouds above him were swollen and heavy, as if it, too, were stockpiling tears it didn’t dare shed.
“It’s okay,” he whispered underneath his breath, reaching shaky hands forward to touch the clouds, wishing he could puncture a hole to offer it some relief, “You can cry.”
How peculiar for the sunshine boy to yearn for a little midnight rain.
But just like his taut emotions, the sky would not - could not - rain. The tension from the strain was palpable in the air, not unlike the tension within himself, straining to hold in all the emotion and all the tears, hiding every part of his authentic self behind bloated dark clouds so he could remain the sunshine boy everyone wants him to be.
His eyes fluttered close, before opening them again to the sight of rushing water. Without warning, as if a gate had tumbled down, he was struck with the thought of what it would be like, what it would amount to if he could end it all at that moment, so he would never have to put on another act ever again.
He jumped…
…away from the bridge, and back to concrete ground. His body shook with fear at the potential he exposed himself to.
Slowly, with shaky breaths, he made his way back to his apartment with his palms clenched tight. He won this battle, but truth be told, he didn’t know how much fight he had left in him, or worse yet, the line between victory and defeat was blurring, and some days, when the heaviness was so pronounced, he didn’t know which side he wanted to be on.
Lightning flashed overhead, and at long last, the midnight rain he longed for poured itself down upon him. Immediate relief overwhelmed his senses, for he could finally allow salty tears to mingle with rainwater trailing down his cheeks.
Once upon a time, Takeru remembered cherishing hope like it was his greatest gift. He considered it a well-practiced trait, a superpower he perfected throughout the years. But now, it was a burden at best, an expectation he no longer wanted any part of.
But still, old habits die hard, and during quiet moments like these when he’s left alone with the monsters in his head, he can’t help but give into the overwhelming desire to hope…but his hopes were now for a different purpose altogether.
All he wanted, all he hoped for was for others to see who he truly was, and ask him what he truly wanted, and not what they wanted of him. Because for once in his life, he hoped for a chance to peel off the sunny cloak of expectation, he hoped for no excuses to feel everything, and to cry as hard and as long as he wanted without the judgment of others.
He hoped to never be the sunshine boy again, for all he wanted was a lifetime of midnight rains.
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