Mirror

Band: Dadaroma&Xaa-Xaa

Pairing: Yoshiatsu&Kazuki

Rating: 17+

Genre: slice of life

Warnings: mental instability, self-harm, mental breakdown, depression, self-hatred, mild language

Note: It's not a good day for Kazuki. Or week. Or month. Or year. Or life.

But luckily for him, Yoshiatsu is here.

Casual, old mirror. Silvered. There were some scratches, but it was still solid. In broken frame that had to be glued a lot of times already.

In fact, he should've thrown away this mirror a long time ago. Put it somewhere between old, rusty bathtub and a sofa stinking of dog piss. He didn't even buy it. It was there since old owners lived here. But a fact is, when he moved in, it wasn't broken at all.

Scratches started to appear later. One after another. And there was more and more of them. Mainly because of him.

Habit. Habit of smacking the mirror with an open palm. Maybe that's why it was still there? If it was made of plastic, produced in one of today's factories, it wouldn't survive even a single impact. It would immediately fall off the nail and shatter into a million pieces. And this one? And it doesn't even budge. And only sometimes he needs to wash away small drops of blood from it.

Solid mirror. Good mirror. Only this frame is a bit bland, probably glued to it much later and replaced. What was it originally made of? Gold, silver, platinum? It's probably just tombak-gilded copper. It doesn't match the silver surface it surrounds.

He didn't know, what reminded him of himself more - the mirror or its frame. He was staring at his own, self-hated reflection and he didn't know, why. He thought of himself as someone useless, but at the same time he still wanted to be here. He wanted to be useful, loved, admired...

He punched the mirror with his palm. He heard his own heart beating in his chest so fast as hummingbird flaps its wings. The sound mixed with the crackling glass under his fingers.

Another scratch. Another blood drops. Typical. He's going to tell his bandmates, what he normally tells them. That he was cutting vegetables, that it was the neighbour's cat, that a barrier was too sharp... They would laugh and call him clumsy. Only his brother would glare at him. And that's it. He knows that he can't force him to stop.

It's just a mirror. Typical old mirror. And a web of breaks on the silver surface. Almost the same as on his palm.

Colourful band-aid put on the wound, which iches a little. No problem. It's nothing. Just a little scratch. It's really nothing.

Sometimes it was better. Especially when he was with someone else. When someone smiled to him. When there was someone, who waited for him at home. During tours he didn't feel so depressed. Because he was needed.

And here? Is there anyone, who needs him here? He should stop thinking about it. He should go on practice.

But An is going to be here. Everytime he saw this cheerful drummer, he remembered that Roji left. He left the band and he left his life... He disappeared. An is going to bother him, just like this chemical scent, when you go to the supermarket and you want to buy a floor cleaner.

He likes An. An is nice. But An replaced Roji in the band. And every replacement of Roji in his life ended with another scratches on the silver surface of the mirror and his soft hand.

Maybe if he didn't live in his own world, he would notice that rain has been banging happily against the iron windowsills since an hour. He would take an umbrella and wouldn't be soaking wet. He wouldn't have such a big desire to go back home and stay there for the rest of his life.

It was pouring. Is going for rehearsal in this weather even smart? He's probably going to be sick and Reiya would worry about him. He doesn't want to worry Reiya. He doesn't want to worry anyone. Not An, not Haru and not his brother.

But if he already left home, is there any sense in going back? It would also worry Reiya, because he's not going to be on rehearsal...

He sighed. Too many problems just because of this rainy day. He likes rain. He relates to rain. But in such situations it was a little annoying.

He realised how much he was lost in thoughts, when he got scared because of a car riding too fast. He jumped with fear, tripped and fell into the puddle. Deep puddle. Well, he even started wondering, if ground was so wet, or there was a hole there, because water almost covered him.

He closed his eyes. He didn't hear anything, almost covered with water. He spread his arms and thought that going to the rehearsal would be in vain in such wet clothes.

And now he's going to catch a cold for sure. Well, sometimes body has to be sick too, it's not only soul's thing after all.

But then he felt someone's fingers clenching on his shoulders and then they pulled him out of water.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He opened his eyes and met other - angry, worried and reflecting blackness of umbrella, belonged to Yoshiatsu.

"I'm getting wet in the rain" replied Kazuki. "But just... extremally."

"And I already thought that you wanted to drown in the puddle" Yoshiatsu got up and pulled Kazuki with himself.

Kazuki didn't want to force his legs to co-operate, but he knew that he won't win debate with his friend.

"It's deep, isn't it?" mumbled Kazuki, looking at the puddle. "Like depression."

"Oh gods..." Yoshiatsu looked up. "For fuck's sake, why?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind, we should go now" Yoshiatsu grabbed his hand. "You have to change your clothes or you'll catch a cold. We don't want to make Reiya freak out, right?"

"I prefer to not worry anyone" said Kazuki, following Yoshiatsu.

Black umbrella above their heads was protecting them from rain falling from also black clouds. Water was splashing in Kazuki's shoes, when he was wondering, what Yoshiatsu was doing here. But he prefered not to ask. He didn't want to know the real reason. He prefered to think that some deity told Yoshiatsu to pull Kazuki out of this puddle.

Yoshiatsu took keys from Kazuki's trembling hands and unlocked the door. He hated such slow moving people. Of course he could forgive Kazuki because of him being himself.

"We have to make some hot tea. Or coffee" said Yoshiatsu, walking inside and unfolding his umbrella to let it dry out.

"But you are the guest..." noticed Kazuki.

"I let myself in" replied Yoshiatsu. "Besides, I'm here so often recently that it's like I'm living here too. Go change your clothes and I'll make tea."

In this moment a phone started ringing in Kazuki’s soaked bag.

"I can handle Reiya too" Yoshiatsu took his friend's bag. "Go change, I'll talk to him."

"As you wish" Kazuki walked towards his closet.

* * *

Mirror was hanged on the wall across the door, so the first thing Kazuki saw, when he entered the bathroom, was his own reflection. Rain water was still dripping from his hair.

He closed the door and leaned against it. He heard Yoshiatsu talking to Reiya. But he noticed something weird. Yoshiatsu had never been so serious before.

"I don't know, what the hell happened that he was laying in that puddle" said Yoshiatsu. "I have no idea. Nah, it wasn't deep, maybe two centimeters."

He was lying. Probably because he didn't want to worry Reiya. Or he didn't admit himself that this puddle was so deep that everyone could drown in it.

"Reiya, calm down" this time Kazuki almost didn't hear him, because Yoshiatsu was talking so quietly. "What? Band-aid? Yeah, he has one on his palm, why do you ask?"

He was silent for a while.

"Kazuki isn't that stupid, Reiya" Yoshiatsu sounded offended. "He's not some bratty idiot, he's almost thirty. You're overreacting. It's..."

He was lowering his voice with every word, moving away from a bathroom. Kazuki didn't hear anything else.

He looked in the mirror. Silver surface reflected his tired and still wet face.

Bratty... idiot...?

But he... really was... that stupid...

His wound from the morning was itching.

He stepped closer to mirror.

And suddenly...

BANG!

It crushed.

It couldn't handle another punch. Every break, which appeared on it before, widened. Pieces were falling one by one on the shelf, floor and to the sink.

Bing, bang, bong.

Frame fell with a loud thud, falling from the rusty nail. It hit the sink, breaking the fragile porcelain and a faucet. Some tiles also fell off, breaking into pieces.

There was much more blood than usual. Was this caused by the stronger punch?

Doors opened abruptly. Yoshiatsu stood in the treshold, looked around the bathroom, looked straight in Kazuki's eyes and put his phone on the cupboard.

"Have you lost your mind?" he asked finally, looking at his friend's hand.

He froze for a moment, then he sweared and hit the wall with his fist.

Kazuki was just staring at him. He couldn't move. He couldn't talk. Blood was dripping from his hand on the floor, but he didn't care.

"Where do you have bandages?" asked Yoshiatsu, gritting his teeth. "Tell me!"

Kazuki pointed on the cupboard by the doors. Yoshiatsu, swearing under his breath, pulled out first aid box and grabbed his friend's unwounded hand.

"What are you doing?"

"And what do you think?" growled Yoshiatsu, forcing him to follow himself. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Yoshiatsu sat Kazuki on the bed.

"Hand."

"Yocchi..."

"GIVE ME THAT HAND!" yelled Yoshiatsu, making Kazuki tremble, but he listened to him anyway and gave him his hand to patch.

Yoshiatsu washed over the wound with sanitizer, put a gauze pad and wrapped a bandage around his hand. Kazuki felt that his fingers were trembling a bit.

"Here. Tell me, if it's too tight" said Yoshiatsu.

"It's okay" replied Kazuki.

"Why did you do that?" asked Yoshiatsu. "What happened that you hit this mirror with your own hand, huh? Did you lose your mind?"

"I don't know..." Kazuki was trying not to look at him.

He has been just staring at his own slippers.

"And I've told Reiya already that he's overprotective. I didn't expect that this older brother of yours is right" Yoshiatsu pulled out his cigarettes from his pocket, but when he opened the box, he realised that it's empty. "Oh, right. I forgot to buy a new one. Fuck this shit."

Yoshiatsu threw the empty box against the wall.

"Kazuki, for fuck's sake" Yoshiatsu grabbed his shoulders. "What's going on? You can't do something like this. Damn, you really can't. This mirror had scratches before, but I thought that it's because it's old. So, why are you doing this? Just look at me and answer."

"I don't know..." Kazuki sighed. "I don't like... I hate myself. That's why probably."

Yoshiatsu frowned slightly.

"I can't agree with you about this, because I don't hate you, I love you" he confessed, like it was just a normal thing for him.

"What?" Kazuki blinked and froze, when he felt Yoshiatsu's warm lips on his own - still cold and wet from rain.

Yes, it definitely wasn't an accident. Such things don't happen without a reason.

* * *

Wind spread the clouds they could see behind the window. Warm sunshine shone through the window on naked bodies of vocalists, laying under white sheets.

They would stay like this for longer, if some furious neighbour didn't pound on the door. When Kazuki opened it, she yelled at him that her apartament is flooding because of him.

Well, sometimes you forget about things, because you're too happy to think about them. Especially about something so trivial like the fact that falling mirror broke the tap.

The end