NIKA

Truth of the Heart

It's strange if you think about it. Being human, I mean. Many things work without your own will or decision. My heart beats regularly without me ever telling it to do so. Still I feel it in all of my body, the normal pulsation, even in the tip of my fingers there it is. It will be everywhere in my body until I die. A reassuring and yet bewildering thought. It doesn't care if my brain still works or if my legs are missing. That makes me wonder why we connect our feelings with the heart. Let me assure you it doesn't care. But still it reacts to my feelings and needs. A dutiful organ without feelings. Almost like a soldier. Nowadays I could say it feels heavy, even though it only means I feel tired. My eyes feel sore from staring at the walls and the carpet, my throat feels dry, my whole body feels worn out, even though I haven't done much in the way of physical activities. I stare into the vast nothingness that is my life when the doorbell announces that someone wants to see me. Who might that be? I didn't expect any visitors... Red alert. I gather myself physically and psychologically, put up shields and masks to confront whoever might be there. As I open the door, I look upon a mass of short black hair, the look is focused to the ground, while the man himself is lost in deep thought as it seems. But I know this hair, this posture very well because I know the man very well. He notices me and almost seems to be frightened for a moment, shock waves up in his eyes. Have I scared him? I didn't mean to, really, urging out a small smile as an apology. But his sudden appearance on my doorstep really comes as a surprise. "Jun? What are you doing here?" Good grief, what has happened to my voice? Why do I sound so pale and worn out? I thought I had steadied myself more than that. And my guest? He looks helpless, confused and yet determined; only he manages to look like all of that at the same time. And right then he begins to knead his fingers, a typical Jun-Is-Nervous gesture. Why is he nervous? Is something wrong with him? Has he done something bad, Jun of all people? "E...eto..," he starts with very meek short glances up to my face. That's it. No more. I guess we had better talk inside, since he has such a hard time finding words. Almost as if he was afraid to talk; I wonder about the reasons. "Want to come in?" I ask, trying to sound friendly and giving him a smile for reassurance. Jun needs reassurance, I know that. Not always, but then, sometimes, his need for solace is overwhelming. He nods at me like I am a stranger, polite and shy. I am not a stranger, Jun. It's me. Don't you know me? But now he is getting rid of his shoes, like he always does. Better, much better. I stroll into the small, sterile kitchen to make some tea for the two of us. A thought crosses my mind. You disturbed me. But I'm glad you're here. Really glad. I catch my smiling reflection on the mirroring surface of the fridge. It is pleasant to smile for real once in a while. Most times it feels like there are weights at the corners of my mouth, making it hard for me to smile. To show any sort of emotion. Am I the emotionless machine that I like to pretend I am? I know that is not so, but do the others know? Well, my friends know, don't they? They know me better than to be deceived by my straight face and my serious looks. Am I'm only putting on an act, you know? Hmm, where's Jun? Don't tell me he's still getting rid of his shoes... "Are you still there, Jun?" I ask into the corridor. A soft "Un," is my only answer. Typically Jun. Jun and his shoes... "It's not a science, you know." I joke. "Science?" he asks, his voice full with puzzlement and his usual fear that I might be only teasing him. "How to get out of your shoes." I call back to him, hearing a sarcastic "Ha ha!" as a retort almost immediately. But you never know with Jun shoes; his sneakers are really complicated sometimes. I can picture his strained face as he struggles with his shoes, tongue peeking out between his lips, concentration written all over his features. How very Jun. I place the tea-cups on the table when Jun finally joins me, his face almost as confused and strained as the one I saw in my bathroom mirror this morning. Again I feel his eyes resting on me. I have to admit... I don't look like much today. I wear only a casual outfit, old and worn, but somehow I had the impression that it suited my mood. I see that he examines me very closely, almost like he's never seen me before. Hey Jun, it's just me. But then your eyes lose their focus, you leave me alone here in my lonely room, wandering on the paths of your thoughts that only you can walk on. I close up the unmoving man standing there like time had stopped for him, paralyzing him into this stance. I feel helpless, watching you being somewhere where I can't reach you. Do you still breathe at all? Finally you sigh, hope escapes you with a simple exhalation. Then you notice that I'm close to you and... You show sudden fear and tension again. Do I scare you? Is it really me, that brings this sudden flash of strong negative emotions to your eyes? How? Before I can think about it, I say: "Where are you gone to?" My voice is playing tricks on me again, all hoarse, expressing my anxiousness. I guess my face is better in hiding emotions than my vociferation. "Nowhere I guess..." Your hoarse whisper trails off, this time it is your soft young voice, not the loud and straight-forward voice you keep for the public. A scared version of the voice that exists only for private uses. Unease is oozing out of your every pore, the internal fight to hide something or expose something is so clear to me. Yet I dare not point at it. Your timid actions are rubbing off on me, I guess. "Nowhere, I guess...," you whisper. Maybe I should offer you a safe haven, some distance from me? Shrugging I point to the couch, asking you to sit down and feel at home without words. He turns his back to me and I feel the bliss of your disturbance slip away from me. If you'll ever fear me... I can not bear this thought. Oh no, please don't let it be like that. What have I done to make you insecure and afraid of me? Please tell me, please. Oh, Jun... I plead to your back when you sit down. What is troubling you? Won't you tell me? Maybe I'm not the best of all friends, I have to admit that much. You're putting up with me just nicely most of the time. Supporting me even though you have objections, telling me your opinion in private afterwards. Then you are serious, looking straight into my eyes so very sincere... I need that. You bring me down to earth when I'm off to cloud nine. And then again, you're the dreamer that inspired the dream we are living now. The dream of having a band, making music we liked and take all odds together. And you dream off again, there on my couch, your face displaying inner turmoil. "There you go again, daydreaming away," I state in a low voice, suddenly realizing that I shouldn't have said that aloud. "Is something bothering you?" I really hope he will answer me, offering a appreciative smile. Spreading optimism is not one of my strengths, as far as Jun is concerned. He is the one to infect me with it. I watch your every move, striving to discover signs of what is wrong with you. You look into the mug with tea thoughtfully, then back to me, your eyes no longer filled with shock but with the softest pity. You bite you lower lips thoughtfully, like you do so often. It always draws my attention to your lips, sometimes against my will. Then your lips part to speak, and still you won't look into my eyes. "Actually... I...we...," you stutter, and I suffer with you. You really look like you are about to fail at something very essential and I am not able to help you in any way. Some friend I am. "I'm sorry to bother you..." His voice fails and he is so meek. He still hasn't said anything at all. Why are you here, why...? If only you would tell me... "Don't worry about it. Exactly with what are you bothering me?" And you start to laugh. Bitter as acid. Are you laughing about me? My inability to understand you; to sense what you mean? "Jun, what is wrong? Just tell me straight, okay?" But you won't, so I join your laughter... Yes, I'm not very sensible sometimes, today especially probably. And I tend to ignore the needs of others, yours as well. What a laugh...! I am not a good friend indeed, right Jun? And that is why you are laughing, right? Laughing because I am so selfish and uncaring, making me see my own faults. "Kirito..." You gulp and continue with a more steady but still very timid voice, even though there is determination shining through. The result of your long inner fight is finally coming to the surface. And here it is, the ultimate ridicule, giving me the consequence of being a lousy friend. "You are not alone." I remain completely still for a few moments. And suddenly everything crumbles inside me. My illusion of strength and independence fades. I fade. At least I have the impression I do, sinking down, as if someone has sunk my boat. That is when I realize a presence beside me, mumbled words hit my ear and I cannot make out what they mean. A shy hand reaches out to me, trying to make sure I'm alright. Can't you see? But he cannot stop my downfall, as I feel helplessly drawn towards earth. I will lose everything and myself if I fall, I can feel it inside of me. Then I melt to a lump of self-pity and irrelevant feelings of diffusion. But! But, he doesn't let me fall, not my Jun. A spin makes me fall to his chest. And there I remain, silent, unmoving. Unable to twitch any muscle as my feelings paralyze me, make me unfeeling almost. "Good God, Kirito..." he gasps, his breath is labored. Now I have scared him even more. I should not be so weak before him. I should leave him alone, prove my strength...be my own cliché. But...I'm washed away into his arms. This time it is me, who is the weakest man around. My face rests in the plies of his sweater, fine fabric to hide me, his smell surrounds me, leads me into the illusion of completeness. Cigarette smoke, some faint trace of recent raamen, his after shave...how manly, Jun... and mingling into it all is his very own personal note. I'm lulled by his warm offer of security. Suddenly he bursts out: "Don't scare my like that!" I'm so terribly sorry, but I can't put it into words right now. All I can do is nod. He seems to acknowledge that since his arms sneak around me, giving me halt while I seem to drift away. Slowly he sways, soothing me, so soft, so Jun. His hands rub my back, trying to soothe me so desperately. I know he must have gotten very frightened. I'm sorry, don't you know? I try to apologize and wrap my arms around him, too. And I like it very much, the feel of his body close to mine. Just as if he has heard my thoughts his arms tighten around me. "I'm sorry...," comes in a faint whisper. Our feelings overlap, making everything possible. Oh, this is wonderful. I don't want to end this. But we part anyway. Isn't life always like that? Everyone parts from you and leaves you in a state of despair, since now you know what you will be missing from now on. And my heart clenches a little, as he lets me go. My unfeeling heart. Of course it doesn't clench, but...it sure feels like it does. I can only look into the emotion-filled face of my friend shyly and apologize for my behavior. "I'm sorry, too..." He smiles softly, almost as if he tries to hide surprise. "It is true, you know," he pauses a little, " We are all there for you, you know? I want to support you, in every way." Oh Jun... How do you always know when to say the right things? Warmth floods my body, and my heart speeds again. Maybe I was wrong and it does hold feelings? Have I given you so much reason to doubt our friendship? These days things are too hectic and busy to care about friendship, is what I like to tell myself. But I was always positive that we were friends, and you, Jun? Have I hurt you by acting like this? I realize I must have hurt you and now all I can give you as an apology is a whisper: "I know, Jun. I've always known." The surprise spreads on his face, lighting his eyes with sudden wonder and hope. That unexpected glow is extinguished almost as soon as it shone. New worries cast shadows. Slowly you begins: "Lately, I've been worried about you..." You take a short break and give me time to ponder why you are worried about me. I'm good at guessing... the way I act, so uncaring and cold. The way I look... I can see it myself... But I don't want to admit, that this tired and forlorn man is me. "You seem so exhausted and worn out." Here is where courage fails you, since you start to wring your fingers again. "And I feel as if..." Your look is lowered to the ground. What will you tell me? The tension rises inside of me. I feel guilty without even knowing why, I feel lost and frozen. I guess I'm afraid. And from your lips come words: "I am no longer your friend." I'm at a total loss at what to say and how to react; your words shoot through my body like liquid pain. No. No, Jun. Never, never! "What makes you think that...?" I force out. You don't answer, just continue to stare on the carpet. Please tell me, Jun. Jun? "Jun?" I twitch at the sound of my own voice. Your eyes meet mine, and I sense so much desperation, while you only shrug. You SHRUG! Don't do this to me, Jun, don't! I shake my head with all my might, deny this doubt of yours. "Jun, what makes you think that I am no longer your friend? Of course I am." I won't take my eyes of him until he says why. "If that is so, then why...?" you stutter, licking your lips nervously. "Why?" "Why won't you talk to me?" Talk?! "About what? All of us talked about returning to our indie label, didn't we?" I wonder. I realize my hands were clenched into fists, so I open them. Little crescents of my nails are visible on my palms. What does he mean? Why don't I get it? Is this really about talking, Jun? "But before everyone else, only the two of us talked about it... I wanted your opinion first." I always want his opinion first. He is thinking about the things I tend to overlook, he makes me consider everything once more. We are good together. My neutral view of Jun melts away. He is Jun, my friend, my band-mate. We were friends before we were transformed into singer/leader and second guitarist. Are we now bound to our roles and they make us forget what has been there in the first place? I will never forget the moment you changed from just another face into Yamamura Jun'ichi in my world. The man looking at me, studying me. And the moment we both understood that there was a similar mind in the body opposite to ourselves. And I cannot deny the fact that I sometimes longed to let this moment be the moment I could always remember as the 'second I fell irrevocably in love': But maybe it wasn't. But something happened, call it chemistry, desire or friendship. And is that lost now? That would also mean that I have lost a part of me now. But some of it is true We are not as close as we were, we talk away emotions, make them methodical, easy to handle, because we are too indolent to face them. It has not always been like this. I was courageous once. Only once. I was drunk, but I still remember; drinking because I wanted to have an excuse. Being rejected, probably mumbling a wretched defense something like: "It was the spur of the moment and I was drunk." I kissed those inviting lips of yours. You tasted so sweet and delicious, the feel of meeting your lips with mine was indescribable. I wanted you to melt into it, sweep you away because I was so manly and a great kisser. But you laughed so sweetly and untainted afterwards as if I was a boy and you were still a child. And I had thought I was really grown up at that time... Another illusion to be proven later... So I couldn't face you and trusted you to forgive and forget. And you did, like you mostly do. I've never dared to kiss you again, Jun. I'm grown out of many deceptions. Since you don't want my kisses I'm glad that we still have our friendship, if we still have it ... And there are still these moments when I sit around, look at you and all I can think of is your taste. And all I want is to call you: "My Jun...", like it is an identification. "Property of Murata, S." Not that I want to own you.. No, you should be free and should remain like that as long as you live. But it's like a caress, saying "my Jun", like a indication that some part of you is bound in the most free way to me. It's only a moment that this feeling is overwhelming. Only for a moment. Then another of those moments is gone. And another. But then you speak: "It's okay, I'm just confused I guess." We are both not very communicative today, are we? Bound to memories, uncertainties and awkwardness. Is that what is left for us? No, I don't want to! "Jun?" I ask, and he doesn't realize that I'm asking if this is the end, but he quickly stands up. "I shouldn't have come here." He states very coolly. All I can do is stare at him, searching for something to say. "Jun?" I repeat. He takes a short glance at me, urging out a smile, saddeningly fake, paining me. Then he is about to turn away, like he can stand me no longer and I feel lost again. Just a few minutes ago he held me, so kindly, letting his heart shine. But there is his bashful self, the real Jun. And the RealJun says: "I'm glad we are still friends, Kirito," And as he turns I know he is no longer scared of me. He just needs as much reassurance as I do, cause we forgot how deep our bonds are. But he had the courage to come to me while I just locked myself up in my tower of ivory, false pride and misunderstood attempts of affection. I am the weaker one, but I have the ability to make people believe that I am strong. While I think he already in the corridor and looking for his shoes. I follow him there, because I owe him some words of gratitude. "Thank you for talking to me, Jun" "Un," he agrees, neither happy nor sad. He won't look at me again. But how can I know what is going on inside of him when he is busy studying his sneakers? "Look at me, Jun!" This tone allows no resistance, I trained it on my little brother and I know it's effects. The effect is: Jun looks at me. Before I can reflect my actions, my hands cup his small fragile chin carefully, avoiding another Jun-Stares-Holes-In-The-Carpet. I want him to know what I felt all along, and I want to see his reaction. "You are my strength." Your reaction is... You close your eyes. Pain? That is the least I want to cause you. I gulp before I go on: "Sometimes I need you to remind me of that. When I am not strong or confused I think about you, all of you. You make me focus on the important things. Whatever you see in me, it is also in you." Then there is this smile on your lips, a brilliant, wonderfully authentic smile, that is more than I had dared to expect. I can't tear my eyes off you. The smile is also in your eyes and you notice my intense glance, blinking a few times. "Why are you looking at me like that?" And the tension is really gone, I am so relieved. The old feeling is back. Bubbles of laughter rise inside of me and I won't fight the impulse to tease you... "Because I want to seduce you," I tease and I wonder if you still remember that night, long ago. "Again?" You ask all innocent and also let me know that you DO remember. And we share a boyish giggle that feels better than all the alcohol in the world, than I shrug and tilt my head a little, catching that puerile sparkle in your eyes. "Why not? You're here and you're cute." It's not exactly like that... You're here, warm, kind and lively... ...and so very much yourself. You roll your eyes playfully, getting into the fun of it: "Still as charming as ever." "Ha ha!" There it is, that closeness that brought us together in the first place. And again I act on impulse and hug you shortly, once again savoring your body-warmth. When we part I still cannot get enough of your expression. How I've missed that carefree air around you. Then your hands reach out to me, before I'm able to react, you press your lips to mine. My eyes widen at this ethereal experience and my cold heart beats madly against the cage of my chest. And I like this rush. I have to touch my own lips to make sure it were these lips that you've just touched with your own. Ignorant of my state of confusion and wonder, you turn to leave. Taking in your strange longing glance at my face, I have to let you go. But I long to do it again, oh yes. What about you, my Jun?

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