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heartbreak warfare (losing team, losing you)

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They were asked to write songs. Only the two of them were and he didn’t know why. The label said it was because Taiga had great musicality and Hokuto was great with his words. Hokuto thought it was a weak reason, but he had no choice, anyway.

So he started writing. Hokuto struggled at first, trying to think of what kind of song to write, what he should focus on, what the subject should be. But the moment he glanced at Taiga during rehearsals one day, the older boy fixing his hair while looking in the mirror, Hokuto knew. Of course he did. Right. It was right in front of him.

He had plenty to write about. So he started.

He started with a 2012 memory, when he was too young and naïve and he thought the world was pretty. When he realized that Kyomoto Taiga was pretty. It was like he was hit by a wave of emotions too strong for him to just ignore, and he drowned. He drowned and sank and he should have screamed for help, he should have, but no one would have saved him anyway. No one could save him from drowning in an ocean of emotions for one Kyomoto Taiga. At least they got close.

And then they weren’t so close anymore. Because of a misunderstanding, because of wrong choice of words and bad timing, and Taiga's unintentional harsh words were too much for Hokuto's oh-so fragile heart. Hokuto hadn’t realized that heartbreak could feel as bad as it did.

Love was a bother. It was a bother because, even after the hurt, Taiga remained beautiful. He continued to make Hokuto’s heart skip a beat and make his day seem better than it was and it sucked. Because no matter how much Taiga broke his heart, Hokuto still found him beautiful. Still found him so utterly captivating. It was unfair.

The song was easily composed and written, then. How could he not write the infinite amount of words when they flowed so easily from his heart, and his mind, to his hands and his pen? It wasn’t a soft, slow ballad. But it wasn't angry and bitter either. It was just… a song. Heartfelt, heartbreaking, bared his soul. Something that one would play after a bad day, only to make the day worse. Hokuto shouldn’t have written such a sad song.

He had a little difficulty putting the word ‘love’ in. Because it was the truth, in all sense. He was in love with Taiga. Taiga with his little quirks and details and everything good and bad about him. But it was lonely, when he was alone in feeling things. There was no point to a duet if you didn’t have someone to sing with.

But it was work, and work, Hokuto was good with. So he sent his song in the moment he finished it, each painful word a reminder of the shattered pieces of his heart, each note in the melody a reminder of a love filled with nothing but empty hopes.

The song was sadness solidified, and Hokuto would’ve punched himself for being such a stupid emotional wreck, had he not already self-loathed in the lyrics enough. Taiga still smiled each day. Taiga still stole him with his smile each day.

Taiga smiled for different reasons. None of those were Hokuto.

So the song said that. The song said a lot of things. Hokuto contemplated whether or not to include details, but he couldn’t. He didn’t. He kept it as vague as he could because he wanted to tell the truth and yet not tell the truth at the same time. He wanted to be transparent and be hidden, all the same. The song did that. The song did that for him, like he wanted it to.

The song told the world of a story in parts, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. A story in which the pining and feelings weren’t mutual, the ending wasn’t good or happy, and the love remained unrequited and unreturned. A story about Matsumura Hokuto, who gave his heart to Kyomoto Taiga. But Kyomoto Taiga never took it, and never gave his own heart back.

Which resulted in the song being a success. The label told him it was good, it was raw, and vulnerable, and it had such a pull that could touch people in different ways.

So they gave it to Taiga. Fucking Kyomoto Taiga.

The song Taiga wrote ended up going to Jesse, because the label said it fit his vocal patterns more. Taiga was a little bummed at first, but he was eventually fine with it. His song was still getting sung, after all, so it was no harm done. But that also meant he needed a new song. And the label thought it was a fantastic idea to give the song Hokuto wrote to Taiga.

The song Hokuto wrote about Taiga, to Taiga, for Taiga. They ended up giving it to the very reason, the very person he even wrote it for.

Hokuto wasn’t even angry at the fact that they gave his song away. Someone else could sing it, for all he cared. But they gave it to Taiga. It couldn’t have been any more fucking ironic.

The label said they could add guitars to it, instead of the piano melody he had used. Hokuto had no qualms about changing the instrument, but he had not appreciated the one who would be playing it. Taiga agreed to sing the song, though. It was beautiful, after all.

Beautiful because it was written about him. Only, he didn’t know that.

Hokuto wanted to complain but he kept quiet. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Nothing he said could make a difference. The label wanted what the label wanted, and they never did guarantee him in the first place, that he would be the one to sing his own song. At least he would get credits in CD. His name somewhere out there, for the world to see. Just not his voice.

“I could ask them to give me something else,” Taiga said one day. Hokuto was on the other end of the rehearsal room, effectively trying to avoid him, lest he burst.

“No, it’s fine. They gave me another song,”

It was an RnB track, a sexy song that would ‘make the fangirls go crazy’ and that fit his image. Hokuto just said yes. Hokuto had no choice but to say yes, anyway.

Taiga commented that the song was romantic, as much as it was heartbreaking. Hokuto wanted to scream.

He hated being a hopeless romantic. Especially because he was more hopeless than he was romantic.

The more Taiga worked with the song, the more Hokuto wished he would wake up and realize something. Realize what he was singing about, who he was singing about. But it never came. And Hokuto would have cried from frustration, had he not felt numb.

The first time it was sung live, Hokuto wanted to forget it already. Because Taiga’s voice sounded so inexplicably beautiful and it hurt even more. Hurt like hell, like he was being clawed from the inside and pried open and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. He tried to breathe. A slow inhale and exhale that would get him back to his reality, get him back to being him. He tried to survive the night.

One rehearsal, Taiga had approached him, a sorry look on his face that looked so menacing and so haunting at the same time. Hokuto knew what he was going to say. He knew what was going to happen. He let things play out.

“I understand the song, now,” was all Taiga said at first. Hokuto didn’t want to respond. But he forced himself to.

“Right,” because there were no words left that he could think of. What were you supposed to say in situations like this, anyway?

“Hokuto, I’m sorry, but I—”

“I know,”

He couldn’t let Taiga say it. Hokuto knew those words. He knew they were inevitable. He knew it was always the truth that he was so afraid of facing but was always there looming in the distance, waiting to be recognized. He just didn’t know it was going to hurt this fucking much.

“I can give you back the song,”

No. Fuck no. He already sang it. Hokuto didn’t want it back.

“It’s okay. You can keep it,”

It was yours from the start, anyway.

Forgotten words, unsaid but true. Hokuto was tired.

Find me a lover, universe. A lover to forget. A lover to break. A lover to make it disappear.

Hokuto held his chin up and smiled, albeit bitterly.

And he was going to break. He was going to bleed. He was going to bear the pain. But he was not going to show Taiga weakness. Not now, not today.

Love was but a chink of Hokuto’s armor, his achilles heel, his fatal flaw. It was his ultimate downfall. Love was cruel and unkind and unbelievably unforgiving. Love was dangerous.

And yet he grip his hand around it and let the edges cut him open, leaving scars in its wake.