Hajime no Insho
sho nijuku.
Takanori hadn’t ever felt quite this way about lyrics before. Granted, when he’d written the words for songs like ‘Wakaremichi’, ‘Okuribi’, and ‘Best Friends’, he’d felt a sense of accomplishment, but these words were…something new. He felt proud of the words, and one could even say that he was happy with the way they’d come out. And as the band looked over these new lyrics, he felt as he once had when he’d shown them the lyrics to ‘Wakaremichi’- unsure and nervous as hell.
Because there was a long silence as they passed the sheet of paper around, and he might have felt a nervous chill or two, and he was grateful for Akira’s hand in his, giving him something to hold on to. And then the page was in Yutaka’s hands, and the drummer was smiling, and after his eyes had scanned over the page a few times, he looked up, and he was beaming.
And Takanori met his gaze as his name was spoken quietly, and he gave a smile in return as he saw the expression on Yutaka’s face. “This is amazing, you know that, right?” He handed the sheet of paper back to the singer, who took it and gave another short smile, and for a moment, he looked as though he was at a loss for words. “Really, it is. I mean, it can’t go on the next single, but I’m sure it can go on the single after that. Seriously, man, how do you…I’m in awe.”
Takanori shrugged, blushing slightly, and his mouth turned upward into a tiny smile as Akira gently squeezed his hand. “I just wrote what I felt, is all.” Mentally, he added something about not having felt this happy in an incredibly long time, but he kept that for himself. “And when I was writing this, I felt…happy.” He smiled again, and he bit his lip, and Akira’s thumb was gently sweeping over the back of his hand.
“Sometimes, I really wish I could see inside that head of yours.” Yutaka was still beaming, utterly fascinated, and he took a moment to try to find more words, and he came up empty, and he shook his head. “But really…amazing lyrics, Takanori. Be proud, hm?”
Takanori glanced up, a small smile gracing his mouth. “Trust me, Yutaka. I am.” Akira squeezed his hand again, and he let his gaze shift over to the two guitarists, who were sitting next to each other as always but speaking quietly amongst themselves, and Takanori shivered a little as he realized that they were talking about his lyrics in their own way. Kouyou turned his head for a moment, catching his gaze, and gave him a warm smile before his attention returned to Yuu, and Takanori’s smile widened just a bit more as he finally allowed himself to look back at Akira, as he hadn’t properly made eye contact with the blond- he’d been waiting to see his reaction to the words he’d written.
And when their gaze connected, Akira was smiling softly at him, and his amber eyes were aglow with adoration. He heard Yutaka chuckle softly, and he felt the drummer’s hand on his shoulder as he rose to get himself coffee, and then Takanori was leaning forward, gently capturing the blond’s lips with his own. And he hummed in content as they kissed, and then he pulled back with a more peaceful fluttering in his stomach, and he smiled.
“Your words are beautiful, ‘nori,” the blond murmured, and his fingers were stroking at the singer’s hair. “And all of that about liberty and friends and family…is that what you really feel?”
The singer smiled, kissing the corner of the bassist’s mouth, and his voice was just as soft as he said, “Not all of it; but I have love and I have friends, and that feeling of ‘liberty’ will come some day.” Another smile, and another kiss, and Takanori had never felt this peaceful in his life. “I know it will.”
Akira smiled, one of the softest smiles Takanori had seen yet, and brushed his hand against the singer’s cheek, and then he kissed his forehead, murmuring something that Takanori couldn’t hear against his skin, and then his voice became more audible when he whispered that he wished that he could see into the singer’s mind. And it was incredible, how true that one statement was; the things that came from Takanori’s head were brilliant, and the way he went about writing and composing and recording was the most amazing thing that Akira had ever seen.
He thought back to the first time that he’d met Takanori and spoken to him, and he found it incredible that for over two years, he’d been allowed to be so close to him and feel love for him as he had, and it was incredible that through it all, Takanori had remained almost exactly the same. Granted, his hair color had changed more times than anyone had cared to count, and he’d switched from wearing glasses to wearing contact lenses, but on the inside, Takanori was the same man that had once been the drummer for Ma’die Kusse.
He was still slightly off-center, and he was still quiet around new people, and he was still charismatic and incredibly easy to be around, and he was still just as peculiar as he’d ever been, and he was still a musical genius. But over the last two years, Akira had been allowed to notice something else about the singer; peculiar, artistic Takanori was positively beautiful, and he had a heart of gold.
And he knew how to write the most beautiful words that anyone in the band had ever seen.
Because there was a long silence as they passed the sheet of paper around, and he might have felt a nervous chill or two, and he was grateful for Akira’s hand in his, giving him something to hold on to. And then the page was in Yutaka’s hands, and the drummer was smiling, and after his eyes had scanned over the page a few times, he looked up, and he was beaming.
And Takanori met his gaze as his name was spoken quietly, and he gave a smile in return as he saw the expression on Yutaka’s face. “This is amazing, you know that, right?” He handed the sheet of paper back to the singer, who took it and gave another short smile, and for a moment, he looked as though he was at a loss for words. “Really, it is. I mean, it can’t go on the next single, but I’m sure it can go on the single after that. Seriously, man, how do you…I’m in awe.”
Takanori shrugged, blushing slightly, and his mouth turned upward into a tiny smile as Akira gently squeezed his hand. “I just wrote what I felt, is all.” Mentally, he added something about not having felt this happy in an incredibly long time, but he kept that for himself. “And when I was writing this, I felt…happy.” He smiled again, and he bit his lip, and Akira’s thumb was gently sweeping over the back of his hand.
“Sometimes, I really wish I could see inside that head of yours.” Yutaka was still beaming, utterly fascinated, and he took a moment to try to find more words, and he came up empty, and he shook his head. “But really…amazing lyrics, Takanori. Be proud, hm?”
Takanori glanced up, a small smile gracing his mouth. “Trust me, Yutaka. I am.” Akira squeezed his hand again, and he let his gaze shift over to the two guitarists, who were sitting next to each other as always but speaking quietly amongst themselves, and Takanori shivered a little as he realized that they were talking about his lyrics in their own way. Kouyou turned his head for a moment, catching his gaze, and gave him a warm smile before his attention returned to Yuu, and Takanori’s smile widened just a bit more as he finally allowed himself to look back at Akira, as he hadn’t properly made eye contact with the blond- he’d been waiting to see his reaction to the words he’d written.
And when their gaze connected, Akira was smiling softly at him, and his amber eyes were aglow with adoration. He heard Yutaka chuckle softly, and he felt the drummer’s hand on his shoulder as he rose to get himself coffee, and then Takanori was leaning forward, gently capturing the blond’s lips with his own. And he hummed in content as they kissed, and then he pulled back with a more peaceful fluttering in his stomach, and he smiled.
“Your words are beautiful, ‘nori,” the blond murmured, and his fingers were stroking at the singer’s hair. “And all of that about liberty and friends and family…is that what you really feel?”
The singer smiled, kissing the corner of the bassist’s mouth, and his voice was just as soft as he said, “Not all of it; but I have love and I have friends, and that feeling of ‘liberty’ will come some day.” Another smile, and another kiss, and Takanori had never felt this peaceful in his life. “I know it will.”
Akira smiled, one of the softest smiles Takanori had seen yet, and brushed his hand against the singer’s cheek, and then he kissed his forehead, murmuring something that Takanori couldn’t hear against his skin, and then his voice became more audible when he whispered that he wished that he could see into the singer’s mind. And it was incredible, how true that one statement was; the things that came from Takanori’s head were brilliant, and the way he went about writing and composing and recording was the most amazing thing that Akira had ever seen.
He thought back to the first time that he’d met Takanori and spoken to him, and he found it incredible that for over two years, he’d been allowed to be so close to him and feel love for him as he had, and it was incredible that through it all, Takanori had remained almost exactly the same. Granted, his hair color had changed more times than anyone had cared to count, and he’d switched from wearing glasses to wearing contact lenses, but on the inside, Takanori was the same man that had once been the drummer for Ma’die Kusse.
He was still slightly off-center, and he was still quiet around new people, and he was still charismatic and incredibly easy to be around, and he was still just as peculiar as he’d ever been, and he was still a musical genius. But over the last two years, Akira had been allowed to notice something else about the singer; peculiar, artistic Takanori was positively beautiful, and he had a heart of gold.
And he knew how to write the most beautiful words that anyone in the band had ever seen.