Shinto Tamaki stood on the crowded street, the cold wind cutting through the thin fabric of his coat. It was just another day in his struggle to make ends meet as a singer, his dreams seemingly slipping further away with each passing moment. As he walked, lost in his thoughts, he accidentally bumped into someone, causing them both to stumble.
Tamaki ignored the individual and moved towards the large area in the middle of the corner section, a place where many people came to play and dance to busk during the day. It was normally filled with many tourists and even some regulars going about their day.
The city streets were bustling with life as Tamaki set up his makeshift stage for another day of busking. With his guitar in hand and a hopeful melody in his heart, he began to strum, pouring his soul into the music, as a few passersby stopped to listen.
As the notes filled the air, Tamaki’s gaze wandered, taking in the diverse crowd that flowed like a river around him. This was his grind, his daily state of vegetation.
Because he had to eat to live, and to eat he needed to make money. All of which had to do with someone like him, someone from a small rural town outside Tokyo. He had come to the city to do better than staying in a small town. Because he had heard the stories, he had fallen for the ideas sold to him. The dreams peddled to a small-town kid. ‘If you have a dream, you can make it.’
But that wasn’t reality, everyone worked here. They worked late hours until they were over half dead, and when they thought that death was coming, they would jolt awake only to have to do it again. Otherwise, their belly was empty, and the shoe box room they lived in would disappear.
His qualifications were less than qualifying, and if he had any other hobby, he could make money off of other than the guitar his brother had given him. He would have. But he wasn’t very good with people, and he didn’t have any special talents.
He wasn’t poor, his family sent him money, and he made enough from doing this. But every time his mom phoned, he had to lie and say he had landed a corporate job, just like his father. Just like everyone else.
That’s what his mom wanted most for him to be, just like everyone else.
Only he had never been like everyone else.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t be if he tried.
Maybe he could.
‘The problem is, I have never seen the point.’ Even in high school, he had been at the bottom tier of the pyramid. Not so bad to be bullied, but so quiet that no one even tried to approach him.
He had watched the world form groups around him. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to try. His dad was a working salesman, and he went from town to town selling his services, anything he could do, fixing up old houses, re-plumbing things, renovating. He sold his wares. And so he had taken his family with him, bouncing around from town to town. Every year of elementary and secondary school had been in a new town and a new school. He was always the new kid. Sticking out like a sore thumb while everyone else knew each other. In small towns, these groups were tight-knit and fortified. He never had a chance.
So he had stopped trying.
And at some point, it had become a part of who he was to exist simply in his own little bubble, struggling alone.
When his parents asked him, he would always say he was making friends. Just like his little brother. All of that stopped when he was in tenth grade and his brother Taki passed away. His family had stopped moving, they were well enough off to do so, and they had stayed in the town where Taki was laid to rest.
He would have stayed in that small town too for the rest of his life. Only he knew he didn’t fit in there. He knew he couldn’t stay because of his secret.
He had overheard the girls talking about the boy who had died, the boy who was disgusting and gay. He had heard the way they had spoken about his brother; he had seen the sadness in his mother’s eyes in his father’s face when Taki was spoken about. And if they had learned his secret, too.
No, he couldn’t stay, that place had taken away his older brother and all the beautiful memories he had with him.
Just because they had labeled him differently.
So they couldn’t know about him.
His family couldn’t be disgraced twice. Not for the same thing.
So he couldn’t stay, even though he missed his mom, and he missed Taki.
He missed Taki the most.
Tamaki moved into a softer, sadder song. An old song from long before he was born, at least forty years old to his twenty, one that those older around him stopped to enjoy with a smile of appreciation on their faces.
He gave them a small bow of thanks and continued to strum.
His eyes perused the crowd aimlessly, just as always.
And then, amidst the throng of people, his eyes caught sight of the most beautiful figure across the street.
Startled, Tamaki’s gaze lifted to find a man standing on the sidewalk, engrossed in conversation on his phone. Even from a distance, he commanded attention with his tall, refined stature and striking features. Tamaki couldn’t help but be captivated by the aura of sophistication and elegance that surrounded him, he stole the breath from Tamaki’s lungs, and his fingers slipped missing a few chords. He did his best to recover quickly, but not without a few winces from those who were listening.
Tamaki switched songs, quickly turning the tune from one song into another without stopping.
His mind focused on the long, lithe, and magical god-like man across the street.
Watching from afar, Tamaki felt his heart quicken, a sudden rush of emotion stirring within him at the sight of this enigmatic stranger. His presence seemed to cast a spell, drawing Tamaki in with an irresistible magnetism that he couldn’t quite explain.
There was an undeniable allure to the way he carried himself, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes of his privilege. His clothes were stylish and expensive. Glaringly so.
If they had been in one of the other spots he busked at, a man like that would have been a target. But here on this side of the city, in this neighborhood, he fit right in. Almost everyone else was dressed similarly to him, with a fancy watch, a briefcase, and the latest phone. Yet, beneath the surface, Tamaki sensed a hint of emotion hidden beneath the facade.
The man chatted for a bit longer, his beautiful features moving animated as he got upset. His perfectly straight and dark eyebrows furrowed together, causing a slight crease on the bridge of his nose. The long sharp nose was set in the middle of an even sharper face, all angles, the most contrasting thing about him, was no matter how strong, and stark that beautiful face was. His eyes had set Tamaki’s heart on fire.
Their dark depths were darker than obsidian and deeper than the lengths of space, and yet his eyes were delicate, and surrounded by long lashes so thick it could be mistaken he was wearing makeup, except that every time he blinked the dark line moved too.
As the man spoke into his phone, his expression remained stoic, giving nothing away from the thoughts swirling within. But to Tamaki, he appeared nothing short of breathtaking, each line of his face etched with a captivating elegance that left Tamaki spellbound.
For a fleeting moment, Tamaki allowed himself to entertain fantasies of bridging the gap between them, of stepping into that man’s world and breaking down the barriers that separated them. But as the call of a girl shouted out off to his left side, reality crashed back in, he knew that their lives were worlds apart, their paths destined to remain parallel, never to cross.
The man looked his way and, for a brief second, his eyes met Tamaki’s. Tamaki felt his heart flutter again, sinking downward on an unending spiral. He knew this man would leave a scar on him that would never heal. ‘My dreams will be about you, every waking breath will be my undoing, you will be the ghost behind my eyelids every time they flutter closed.’ he knew it.
But the man looked away just as quickly as their eyes had caught. Past him towards the voice. Tamaki turned his attention drawn to the girl. Rather not a girl but a lady, just as stunning as the man was. Tamaki let out a little sigh, it was almost a relief, beautiful beings like that belonged with each other. They were in a class far above him. One he would never be able to touch, let alone reach.
The lady’s voice was melodic, soothing, and bright.
“Hiro!” She called.
Hiro waved and held up a finger to shush her.
‘Hiro. The name suits you.’ She rushed over to Hiro, greeting him with familiarity. He hung up the phone, and she wrapped her arm around his, and together, they disappeared into the restaurant Hiro had been standing in front of. Intrigued, Tamaki couldn’t help but keep an eye on them, observing discreetly from his vantage point. They came back into view quite quickly, taking a seat at a table near the window.
As he watched Hiro interact with the girl, Tamaki felt a sense of curiosity mingled with admiration. Despite not knowing Hiro’s name a second ago, despite not knowing his existence until a few minutes before, something was captivating about him, something that drew Tamaki’s gaze like a moth to a flame.
Hiro’s presence was an aura of refinement and grace, his every movement exuding an effortless elegance that left Tamaki mesmerized. From the way he spoke to the girl to the way he carried himself with quiet confidence as he ate, Hiro commanded attention without even trying.
‘Can there be human beings so beautiful, so untouchable in this world?’ He hadn’t thought there could be. But now that he has seen it with his own two eyes, he knew gods existed. He knew it.
Lost in his thoughts, Tamaki barely noticed the passing of time as he continued to play his guitar, the music serving as a backdrop to his silent observation. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city streets as evening descended.
The two remained in the restaurant, still chatting.
With a sense of reluctance, Tamaki packed up his belongings, as he picked his guitar case back up and sorted his earnings out he heaved it up with a tired sigh walking across the street and in front of the restaurant. This was his only way home, and his heart skipped with excitement that it brought him even an inch closer to Hiro’s magnetic presence. As he passed, he snuck a glance, hoping he could sneak in one last view that he could shelve in his mind for later. Only when he glanced it was straight into those dark abyss that swallowed him whole. He had managed to catch more than a glance; he had caught Hiro’s entire gaze through the window. Tamaki held his breath, unable to move as a jolt of fire and lightning seared its burning tendrils into his heart, hooking into him and rooting him to the spot. The spell of Hiro’s presence lingering in him, Hiro’s long thick black eyelashes fluttered, and he looked away, breaking the spell. Tamaki could finally move again, and he shuffled off, a part of him terrified, the other half heavily frustrated and on fire in some very specific ways that were not proper for outside.
Tamaki rushed to the subway as he made his way home, unable to shake the feeling that their paths had crossed for a reason, their brief encounter leaving an indelible mark on him.
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