Well, I'm back, whether you missed me or not. I hope it's the former, but if not oh well.
This is another songfic I wrote, but it has nothing to do with the other two. It's its own story. Again, the characters are OOC, but I stand by my argument from Lips of an Angel: they are much older and have changed dramatically over the years.
You know, it's funny. I don't really enjoy reading songfics, but I love writing them. I wonder why that is. . . .
So, this songfic uses the song The Blues by Switchfoot. It's a really beautiful song, and, again, I urge you all to find it on youtube or somewhere and listen to it. It really helps get you into the mood of the fic if you can just hear how he sings this. It's pure confusion, sadness, and it wrenches at your heart to hear the desperation in his voice. So, yeah. Listen to it.
But anyway, this is longer, because it's a fairly long song and it takes a lot of writing to get to the bottom of what Amu and Ikuto are feeling in this, whereas with Lips of an Angel and Breathe, it was pretty self-explanitory.
So, here it is! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Shugo Chara!, Amu, Ikuto, or Tadase, though I did make up the bodyguards. I also don't own the song The Blues. Switchfoot owns that. I just used it for inspiration!
The Blues
Is this the New Year
Or just another night?
Ikuto stumbled out of the bar onto a deserted street. It was New Year's Eve, and people were either out celebrating or staying in. Well, everyone except Ikuto, who had no one to celebrate with and had no home.
He was on tour again, in a city he knew nothing about. He didn't even know the name.
He'd finished his concert and escaped his bodyguards to have some time to himself; as a popular singer, he didn't get a lot of that. So, he'd found the nearest bar and had a few drinks.
Is this the new fear
Or just another fright?
Is this the new tear
Or just another desperation?
Amu was running down the sidewalk. She was trying to get home from her first night at her new job, but it was proving to be more difficult that she had previously thought it would be.
Amu had always had a terrible sense of direction. She'd gotten lost countless times before she moved here with her fiancé, Tadase, but there had always been someone there to save her.
This time, she was in a completely new city, it was dark, and there was no one around.
For a moment, Amu was distracted by that thought. This was a fairly large city. Why were there no people anywhere? But then Amu remembered the date: December 31. New Year's Eve. With the hecticness of moving out of her old house and moving in to her new one, she'd lost track of the days. It didn't help that she usually didn't work on holidays. But she was no longer a secretary to an unknown lawyer; she was now a nurse, and hospitals didn't close on holidays.
Still, the quiet was giving her the chills. She knew no one here except Tadase. Was this, she wondered, a foreshadowing of what her life would be like from now on?
Is this the finger
Or just another fist?
Ikuto had always rebelled. He wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps he hated being ordered around. Maybe he had principals, beliefs worth standing up for.
As he ponders these ideas, he snorted. He wasn't nearly so strong or noble. More likely, rebelling simply amused him.
The concept made his acting out seem childish, as if he were a little kid who played at being a bully to get attention. It made it seem worthless. Just another clenched fist against anything that tried to tether Ikuto.
Is this the Kingdom
Or just a hit-and-miss?
I miss direction most
In all this desperation.
Amu often wondered about her life. Did she make the right choice in choosing Tadase? She had, of course, been attracted by the concept of being with the fairy tale prince, even if she didn't know it at the time. But after she got him, something seemed . . . wrong. Not bad, of course. Just. . . . She felt that if she had chosen differently she might have had a more satisfying – happier – life.
That was the problem with being an adult: no one told you what to do anymore. When Amu was a kid, everything was laid out all nice and clearly for her. Now everything was jumbled and unclear, like a puzzle with 10,000 pieces and a constantly changing picture of what the puzzle should look like when it's completed to guide her.
Sometimes, Amu missed the guidance of her parents.
Is this what they call freedom?
Ikuto paused and glanced around at the empty city. The only signs of life he could see were the lights in buildings high above him and occasionally loud music from a party in one of the apartments.
Ikuto could do anything he wanted and get away with it. Not only tonight, because there'd be no witnesses – but anytime really. He could probably shoot someone at one of his concerts and be found innocent because of his money and social influence. People would still love him. He wouldn't, of course, but the point was that he could if he wanted to.
Being famous certainly was freeing, wasn't it?
Ikuto slumped against the gritty brick wall of the building he'd been staring up at. He slid down it, scratching his back, his coat bunching up, possibly ripping, and landed in a heap on the cold pavement. He stretched out his long legs and rested his head against the wall.
Was it?
Is this what you call pain?
Her new coworkers kept asking Amu if it hurt her when she moved. If leaving everything she'd ever know was painful. Amu told them that it was.
But Amu didn't find moving painful at all. To her, being in a new place was a chance to change, to learn, to grow. Amu wanted to know about different cultures and how they influenced the people around her. So, really, moving was exciting!
No, what was painful was being 16 and learning her mom had died in a car accident. What was painful was remembering that the last thing she'd ever said to her was, "I hate you! Why can't you just die already so I can be left alone?"
What was painful was getting pregnant at 17 and wishing the baby was gone. What was painful was having a miscarriage only to realize that she was looking forward to being a mom.
What was painful was giving up the man she loved to have a nice, steady life with an always-present husband, rather than a passionate, erratic one with a husband always on tour. What was painful was learning she couldn't stand her fiancé.
Is this what they call discontented fame?
Ikuto couldn't help wondering why he was so lonely, so depressed. He shouldn't be. He had more money than most people can even fathom. He had four houses and five vacation spots. He had his own jet, a clothing line, a cologne. He could have any woman he wanted.
But it just wasn't enough.
Ikuto bent his head forward, laying it in his hands miserably. What was wrong with him? He had everything. He literally had everything.
Suddenly, his head flew from his hands. Ikuto was wrong. He didn't have everything. IN fact, there was one very important thing he didn't have.
And it was the one thing – the only thing – that could ever make him content.
It'll be a day like this one
When the world caves in.
When the world caves in.
When the world caves in.
I'm singing this one
Like a broken piece of glass
For broken arms and
Broken noses in the back.
Is this the New Year
Or just another desperation?
Amu slowed to a walk, lost in her thoughts. She felt herself being drawn to her memories, sinking into them as if she were reliving them.
Vividly, she remembered every single detail. She'd been with her boyfriend when she got the call about her mom. It was 3:47 in the afternoon. She'd been wearing only a green miniskirt and a whit and pink striped bra, straddling her boyfriend on a blue couch when her cell phone had rung.
She remembered sitting on the edge of the tub, hugging herself as she waited for the home pregnancy test results to show. She remained straight-faced when she told her boyfriend. His face was first horrified at how it had come about, terror-filled, but then grew to pure joy. She remembered going to the clinic, the impersonal decorations, cold metal of the table, the moment she decided she couldn't do it. Then, two months and 16 days later, unbearable pain. A rush of hospital and emptiness. Desertion. Disappointment.
When she broke up with him, she was wearing a large grey hoodie and jeans, ratty tennis shoes. She looked him right in the eyes and said coldly, unemotionally, "We're over." She went home, shutting herself away for a week, then emerged new, strong, freshly engaged to Tadase, acting as if the past three years hadn't happened.
Amu was torn from her memories when she felt her foot catch on something. She shrieked as she crashed to the ground, bringing up an arm to catch herself. She looked up as a deep, husky voice asked, "Are you all right?"
Ikuto snapped his mouth shut when she looked up at him. He couldn't help, though, opening it again and gasping, "Amu?" Was it possible that she could appear after he finally realized that only she could help him?
Amu pushed herself up into a sitting position, inspecting her arm. "Ikuto," she said almost cordially, but Ikuto knew she was just as shocked as he was. "I'm bleeding," she said matter-of-factly.
"Shit. I'm sorry," Ikuto said. He hesitated, then pulled off his coat and shifted so he was closer to her. He took her arm, ignoring her protests, and pressed his coat against it. Amu winced. "Sorry," he mumbled again.
The said nothing for a few minutes until Amu pushed him away, saying, "I think it's stopped."
Ikuto pulled away and studied her as Amu stood and began to walk away without a word.
Suddenly, he called, "Amu, are you all right?" There was no way he was going to let her go so easily.
Amu stopped, knowing that he wasn't referring to the fall. No, he'd noticed in 5 minutes what no one else had in 10 years: how sad and lonely she was. How disappointed she was. How world-weary she was.
She turned back to him and asked, "Do I seem all right to you? It seems to me like you shouldn't even care. You should be concerned about yourself, right?" When Ikuto didn't answer, Amu said, "That's what I thought." She whirled back around and began walking away.
Slowly, Ikuto stood. This was the woman he'd loved since he was 17. He'd been with her through everything: her mom's death, the baby. Then she'd ended it. No warning. No explanation. It was just over.
She'd ruined him. He knew Amu was the reason he was so unhappy, just as he knew she was the only way he could ever be happy again. Just seeing her again had filled him with hope and strength. He could let her go when he'd just found her again.
So he called, "Amu!"
She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, an expectant look on her face.
Instead of saying anything, though, he began to sing. It wasn't one of his hits. He'd made the song up on the spot. It was wordless, just a sad, long keening melody.
At first Amu just stared at him questioningly. Then, when the song began to take shape, began to grow, she understood: it was their song. The sadness in the song was unmistakably her own. Before Amu knew what was happening, she was sobbing.
Suddenly, she was in Ikuto's familiar, forgiving arms. She collapsed into him, letting everything she'd pent up inside her since she was 16 pour out.
Amu had been ignoring her own feelings for so long that she'd been fighting just to get through the days, the weeks, the months, the years. The time seemed endless. Just an endless desperation.
You push until you're shoving.
You bend until you break.
Then, just as soon as she started, Amu stopped crying. She stayed still for a moment, then slid her hands up Ikuto's chest and pushed lightly. He seemed not to notice, so she pushed harder.
"Amu," Ikuto sighed hopelessly. "Don't do this."
Shaking, Amu gave a great heave and Ikuto released her. She glared at him. "Leave me alone," she snarled.
"Amu," Ikuto repeated.
"I said, leave me alone!" She spun and made to start walking away.
Ikuto grabbed her arm. "Why do you do this?" he asked. "Why do you push people away?" When Amu didn't answer, Ikuto continued, "Why did you break up with me?"
Amu was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "I got sick of it."
"Of what? Me?"
"Of everything!" Amu wrenched her arm from Ikuto's grip. "I got sick of people putting everything on me until I couldn't stand anymore! I was so deeply buried I couldn't breathe!"
Ikuto shook his head, baffled. "What did that have to do with me?"
Do you stand on the broken fields
Where your fathers lay?
"You didn't notice!" Amu shrieked, jabbing her finger in Ikuto's chest. "You were too obsessed with finding your dad that you didn't see how close I was to drowning!"
Quick as a cat, Ikuto grabbed Amu's wrist and said, "That's not fair, Amu. I-"
"Of course it isn't!" agreed Amu. "Do you think I meant it to be?" Her tone turned mocking as she said, "Poor Ikuto! He's had such a hard life as a rock star. It must be so hard having women fall all over you, having your own private jet, having so much money you don't know what to do with it."
"Amu, stop," Ikuto growled.
She ignored him. "Nothing bad ever happens to Ikuto! It wasn't his mother who died. He didn't get raped and then pregnant. He didn't lose his baby!"
"It was my baby!" Ikuto suddenly bellowed.
Amu was so shocked by his sudden outburst – when they'd been dating he'd never raised his voice to her like that – that she fell silent. Ikuto was surprised, as well. He stood breathing heavily for a few minutes, trying to calm down.
"She was my baby," he said finally. "It may not have been my sperm that helped create her, but. . . ." Ikuto looked away, trying to hide his moistening eyes. "But I would have been her father. And I would have loved her so much. I already did."
It'll be a day like this one
When the world caves in,
When the world caves in,
When the world caves in.
When the world caves in.
When the world caves in.
When the world caves in.
Is nothing here worth saving?
Is no one here at all?
Is there any net, love,
That could break our fall?
"Well," Amu said after a few moment's silence, "how wonderful, Ikuto. How very big of you. Really selfless." Amu's voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that Ikuto suspected that if he hadn't been holding her wrist she would have started slow-clapping.
Before she could say anything else, Ikuto said, "Isn't anything good enough for you anymore, Amu?"
"Ha!" Amu snorted, pulling her arm away again. "If anything it's the opposite. Everything is too good for me."
It'll be a day like this one,
When the sky falls down
And the hungry and poor
And deserted are found.
Are you discontented?
Have you been pushing hard?
Have you been throwing down
This broken house of cards?
Ikuto stared at her in disbelief. "What?"
"Haven't you noticed?" Amu asked, chuckling darkly. She opened her arms wide, gesturing to their surroundings. "Everything is too good to be true. Nothing lasts. And when it ends . . . it makes you feel worse than before."
"Amu," Ikuto breathed. "Amu, what happened?" Ikuto couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even he, depressed thought he was, didn't feel as she did.
"What happened? I grew up. I grew out of my stupid, childish fantasies that said if I worked hard enough, I could do anything. All the crap that happened to me taught me that you just have to deal with your problems; just accept them, and pray to God that you'll make it through. Sometimes it's all I can do to survive that shit that life's throwing at me."
Ikuto shook his head. "You know I don't believe that, Amu. All that 'destiny' and 'fate' crap is just a coward's way of not wanting to take control of his life, admitting his mistakes. You can't make excuses for what's happened to you. Don't place the blame on God of fate for your ruin. You helped me understand that."
"I was wrong."
"No, Amu. You were right. You make your own decisions. You control your life. You caused this to happen to you."
It'll be a day like this one
When the world caves in,
When the world caves in,
When the world caves in.
Is there nothing left now,
Nothing left to sing?
Are there any left
Who haven't kissed the enemy?
Is this the New Year
Or just another desperation?
At that, Amu crumbled. She fell into Ikuto's arms again, sobbing. "Ikuto," she moaned through her snuffles. "Ikuto, I'm so . . . so . . . tired. I can't do it anymore. I have no reason to keep going. I . . . I. . . ."
Ikuto bent down, pulling Amu's tear-stained face close. He brushed his lips against hers lightly once, pulled away and searched Amu's golden eyes with his midnight-blue eyes. In them he saw so much: regret, surprise, fear, suspicion, disbelief, wondering. But more than anything else he saw, glimmering and shining brightly, love.
Amu pulled Ikuto's head back down, crushing his lips to hers. Her nails clawed his back fervently, desperately. This was everything she'd longed for for 10 years: to feel wanted, loved, longed for, all of which she could feel resonating from Ikuto into her.
Does justice ever find you?
Do the wicked never lose?
Is there any honest song to sing
Besides these blues?
Then, just as suddenly as they had started, they pulled apart at the sound of rushed footsteps.
"Tsukiyomi-san," panted one of the two men who had been running to them. "Thank God we found you."
"Now, we have to go. Your plane for New York leaves in an hour," the other man said, sounding irritated.
"I'll car for your car." The first man left, digging in his pocket for his cell phone.
Ikuto sighed. "Can we have some privacy, Hagini?" he asked the remaining man, who hesitated, then walked a few paces away. "That's as good as we're gonna get," he whispered.
"Ikuto," Amu said, glancing to Hagini, then back to Ikuto, "this isn't fair. I want to . . . to be with you. I-" her eyes widened, her hands grasped Ikuto's shirt. "Tadase and I never got married. I'll go with you."
Gently, Ikuto pulled her hands from his shirt, holding them tightly. "No. You need to stay."
"Ikuto-"
'Amu, I love you. I always have. I always will. But you need to stay." At her worried look he continued, "You'll be fine. I promise. You're so strong, Amu," he said, gazing at her in admiration. "You're amazing. You have no idea."
"Tsukiyomi-san, the car's here," Hagini said as a sleek black car pulled up.
"I love you," Amu said desperately.
Ikuto didn't answer, instead kissing her again one last time, quickly. He allowed himself to be pulled away and got into the car, followed by his bodyguards.
And nothing is okay
Till the world caves in,
Till the world caves in,
Till the world caves in.
Till the world caves in.
Till the world caves in.
"Who was that?" Hagini asked as they pulled away.
"Old girlfriend," Ikuto answered simply.
"Hmph," he scoffed. "Didn't look so old to me."
Ikuto smiled. "No. I suppose not."
Until the world caves in.
Until the world caves in.
Until the world caves in.
Until the world caves in.
Until the world caves in.
Until the world caves in.
Ikuto didn't need to look back as they drove away. He knew he would see Amu again. How, he had no idea. But he knew it just as he knew that his reign of popularity in the idol world was ending, but that the last song he would release – the song he had sung to Amu 20 minutes ago; they're song – would become disassociated from him, timeless. His career would soon be over – he was getting old, after all, too old to be an idol. And when that day came, when they're song would become world famous, but he shrunk into the shadows, he would see her again.
And . . . perhaps . . . they would be able to try again.
So there it was. I hope you liked it. It's pretty . . . um . . . cynical, I guess. But if I offended anyone with the fate/God vs. free will thing, I apologize. That's not what I was going for at all. And it reflected none of my beliefs, it just seemed that they would believe in free will more than fate.
But, anyway, please review. It always makes me feel happy when I look in my email and I see a bunch of 'favorite story' and 'review' alerts from . And I haven't gotten any in a while. So, hint hint. Plus, if you review and favorite, it makes me want to write more, to get more of them.
And, when you review, I don't mind constructive criticism. It's always helpful for improving my writing, which makes you happier, which makes you review, which makes me happier. And we all want a happy auther, don't we? Otherwise who knows what I might do. . . .
So please review! Now!
Thanks for reading!