Nostalgia

Cruelty (2/4)

Ruki x Kai

"I am sorry"

Kai turned away. Of everything, these are among the many things that he does not want to hear. That Ruki was sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry for leading him on? Sorry that Kai was stupid enough to hope? That he was stupid enough to think that they are something more?

He stared at his vocalist, smoking one cigarette, and then yet another, and another. Silence draw out between them. That and the one sentence hanging in the air. Kai sighed softly, a sigh that did not go unnoticed by the other. He half listened to Ruki's excuses, his mind half drifting away, the pressure in his chest building up. The same old excuses told. Excuses that he himself had used before on other people. Excuses of not wanting to jeopardizing friendship. Excuses of not wanting to destroy the band. Excuses of not wanting to hurt each other more later. Perhaps it is karma. This biting him back in the ass.

Kai looked at Ruki, the silence from the drummer unnerving the vocalist, making Ruki spout out more words, more excuses, more pleas, and more words meant to soothe the hurt. Finally Kai just stood, knowing that this will take time. They can't exactly ignore each other, not when they are in the same band and practically see each other everyday for work. But then that doesn't mean it will not hurt, that Kai can handle being in the same relationship as before with the other, even though previously they had never made anything concrete.

"It is fine"

The one sentence revealed everything. That everything is not fine. But then what more can be done? What more is there to be said? Can everything be undone? Better now than later. Better than Ruki being with him just because he pities Kai's emotions and being afraid of telling him the truth. This is still better.

"I am sorry"

Kai turned towards Ruki, pausing as he was leaving the room, leaving the vocalist who stared after him with regret.

"Don't be. Cruelty of the truth is better than cruelty of pity"

Kai closed the door behind him, the pressure in his chest still not easing as he took several deep breaths before walking away. His fingers idly touched the almost faded scars on his left wrist, hidden by the wristband that he wore. He clenched his fingers, taking more deep breaths, willing himself to not fall to that form of release, the release of emotional pain through physical pain.

"Cruelty of truth is better, isn't it?"

The soft whisper lingered in the air long after he had left the dark building.