A/N: Just picked up my first Yellowcard CD. It makes me happy.
Also, starting to get into Fruits Basket, so it and said CD are
my current muse.
"How It Feels To Not Believe"
"Letting out the noise inside of me
Every windowpane is shattering
Cutting up my words before I speak
This is how it feels to not believe.
Way away away from here I'll be
Way away away so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
~ "Way Away"; Yellowcard
"What's it like?" she asks from behind you as she joins you on
You look at her, puzzled. She looks back, troubled.
"What's what like?" you ask bemusedly.
"Not to believe," she clarifies as she carefully sits next to
you, still with that same troubled expression.
"Lonely," you admit after a moment. You can't deny her.
"I thought it might be." She looks regretful now. "Can I
"You already do," you tell her, looking away to hide your
embarrassment. "It's easier . . . with you."
That makes her feel a little better, but she still says, "I want
to know if there's more that I can do."
You don't know what to say to that. You wish the reply were
something easy, like, "Let me kiss you," or "You already have."
Something simple, that you could somehow articulate. Something
that you could explain. You know she'd do anything you asked.
She's so nice, so concerned for other people's happiness, that
it would be easy for her.
But there really isn't anything she could do. She can't give
you what you want, even though she already has it, ironically
enough. And it seems that she has had it since before you even
returned. That precious thing that you try to deny wanting . .
A small scratching noise alerts the both of you to the presence
of a rat. It cocks its head at you and nuzzles her bare ankle
lightly. It is not him, but you know he sent it.
"Tell him he can come up," you say with a sigh, and the rat
squeaks an acknowledgement and scurries off. A bare instant
passes, and he appears, sitting so that she is between him and
you. She always will be, really. Not the only thing that is,
but maybe the only one that really matters.
So the three of you talk. Mostly it's her, but he adds a little
and so do you, and you can tell that he's trying not to
antagonize you just as much as you're trying not to get
antagonized. The conversation is light- school, plans for
summer, nothing really intimate or important.
Until she turns to him and asks, "What's it like not to
"Believe what?" He doesn't understand the question.
"Believe in people," you explain, and both you and she look at
He is silent for a moment, uncomfortable, but says the answer
easily. It's something he's thought about too.
"It is . . . lonely," he says slowly.
She smiles at him, and then asks the second question. "Can I
"You have," he tells her, not quite meeting her eyes in an
attempt to hide his embarrassment. "I can believe in you."
"I want to know if there's more that I can do," she says. It's
like she's reading a script while you and he try out for some
role. And you haven't missed how close his lines are to yours.
He doesn't seem to have any more reply to her than you did, but
there is nothing to interrupt his silence.
"Is there?" she prods. She didn't get this far in the script
He still doesn't speak, simply drawing his knees up to his chin
and wrapping his arms around his legs. Fetal position, like he
thinks it can protect him. You wish it could, because you
But what else is new?
"No," he says finally. "No, you've done all that you can. More
than you needed to."
"So what do you want?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.
"A lot of things," he replies quietly. "Acceptance.
"Those don't go together," you say bluntly, rolling your eyes.
"Sometimes they do," he says, resting his chin on his hand, his
own voice tired.
"I want to help you," she cuts in, and she puts a hand on both
your and his shoulders. "Let me."
You are about to speak, and so is he, but her light touch
suddenly turns into a tight grip, and she yanks both of you
forward by your collars and ducks.
If this were a fight, she would have just knocked both of you
into unconsciousness. But it's not a fight, and she's not
pulling quite that hard. Just enough to make your noses brush
You can't resist the opportunity, even though she's right
beneath you and you know she's watching. You kiss him. Just a
brief, light brush of lips, something that he could dismiss as
an accident if he chose. Only he doesn't choose to.
Because he's been looking for that feeling from you. He's been
reading too much into the things you say and trying not to fight
with you . . . and you know this because this is what you've
done with him.
She giggles. "You're cute together." You feel yourself blush,
and see him do the same.
"Okay," you admit, "maybe there WAS something more you could
do." And it seems that she's given him to you after all.
"I thought so," she says smugly, releasing you both. "Now, I'm
going to go make dinner and anyone who drops by will have to
help me- say, Ayame or Kagura or Shigure-san . . ."
"You are a true friend," he says with a laugh as she gets to her
feet and dusts off her skirt.
She smiles. "I just want everyone to be happy," she explains
"One down," you say, pointing at yourself and giving him a
"Make that two," he confirms, catching your free hand in his.
She smiles again and leaves, probably already debating what kind
of salad to make in her head.
You look at his hands, then at his face. He looks back, smiling
"You're cute without me," he tells you.
You brush your free hand against his shoulder. He gives you a
thoughtful look, and then leans forward to kiss you, and someone
would really have to be the king of idiots to be able to pass
this one off as accidental.
And now you believe.
* fin *
. : opposites attract. and then they explode : .