In Over Your Head

IN OVER YOUR HEAD


____________________________________________________________________________________________

In Over Your Head

The analogy is to an unskilled swimmer who has fallen into water that is too deep. You are in over your head when you face a challenge you are not able to meet. \"Over one\'s head\" refers to the depth of the situation one is in. The situation has become more serious (severe) than the person is prepared for.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 3


Head Above Water


The two friends sit on the sofa, clinging onto each other and sobbing. It’s surreal and the sound so alien after what just happened. It’s making my eardrum vibrate. I listen to them intently. I need to know what’s going to happen now. I’m anxious. I’m nervous. Grab a hold of yourself, dammit Eiri.


“I’m sorry Shuichi. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry...” these are the new three words that replace Hiro’s chanting of devotion; not very eloquent, is he? He is latched onto Shuichi, and Shu hugs him back. He, too, is apologizing. They both just cry and cry like two little children making up after quarreling. They are confusing me; I don’t know what to make of it.


Hiro pulls Shuichi off his body and rests his lips on his sweaty forehead. They stay like that for quite some time, making embarrassing sniveling noises. I’m beginning to think I read them all wrong and I underestimated their feelings.


“Hiro...” Shuichi whispers and Hiro just hugs him again, urging him to keep quiet.

“Shhh, I know Shu. I know. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” Hiro reassures a very distressed Shuichi. I have no idea what they are talking about. I’m jealous of how they read each other’s minds. They know each other so well. They are in their own world now, and I am sitting here on the outside, clueless. Shuichi negates Hiro’s unspoken thoughts with vigorous movements of his head, and he tightens his grip on Hiro. When is he going to let go? Dammit Shuichi, I hate you for making me feel like this.


“I’m sorry, Hiro. I do love you. I do... I...” He can’t finish his sentence, he starts crying once more, and Hiro kisses his lips again, thereby stopping him from talking any further. My mind is reeling; I hate hearing those words from Shuichi’s lips being spoken to someone other than me. His love declarations are for my ears only, aren’t they? Those lips are mine only; I’ve shared enough, stop kissing them now. I’m so selfish, so egocentric, and envious.

My head is pounding; the sound of my blood pulsing echoes in my ears. My head reverberates; the blood rushes down tight vessels and pours all over my brain, filling every crevice. It’s painful. The blood spills, it’s overflowing, it’s drowning my brain in crimson rivers of dry erythrocytes. I’m not sure how much oxygen my drunken red blood cells carry right now, not much I can tell. I think my brain is drying, is becoming brittle; I’m afraid the alien vibrations might make it shatter.

“I know Shu. I know. I know...” he rocks him slowly, and shudders. The temperature has suddenly dropped; it’s quite chilly in the room now. Maybe that’s why my blood feels the way it does. Like it’s freezing; the cells turn into sharp icy shards, prickling the cerebral tissue. I feel like an outsider in my own house. I want to scream, and pull my stupid hair out and shout, and ask them what the fuck they are talking about, but I don’t. I musn’t loose my composure. I have a vague idea, but I’m so anxious I can’t think straight. I shift a bit and the leather squeaks again. I think they’ve just remembered I’m here. Next time I don’t want a leather sofa.

“I should go,” Hiro stays matter-of-factly and Shuichi nods slowly, but he doesn’t let go. Hiro tries to get up, but Shuichi keeps him in place, and Hiro closes his eyes and sighs, swallowing a huge lump in his throat; it’s just as big as the one in mine. What the fuck is going on here? Was he actually hoping for Shuichi to ask him to stay? That’s rich. I resist the urge to mock him.

Hiro finally scrambles off the sofa and covers Shuichi’s trembling form with the blanket we keep by the couch. He doesn’t look at me. He’s sniffling again as he gets dressed, with his back turned to us. I can sense his embarrassment in the way he keeps his shoulders scrunched up and his arms practically glued to his body, or how he barely lifts his legs to put on his boxers and trousers, his chin buried in his chest. He wants to shrink onto himself and grow so small he can practically disappear; he’s appalled. Shuichi’s back is on me and he observes his friend. I desperately want for someone to come and kick me the hell awake.


We can’t look at each other; suddenly it feels like there are three strangers in the room. I don’t even recognize myself among these people. This is all wrong; it’s just too fucking fucked up to be true, even if I’m drunk. This is not how I visualized things would happen. But what was I expecting? I don’t know.

Hiro picks up his guitar and his helmet and walks weakly towards the front door. He’s having a hard time keeping upright; so he walks supporting his weight on the wall against his head and shoulder. I think his knees are going to give way any moment now, he wants out. I want him out. He turns around and bows pathetically. Ever so polite, ever so fucking ethically perfect; damn him and his righteous demeanor.

“Please take care of him,” he whispers. His voice is heart-wrenching. I can see he’s struggling to sound strong, trying not to break down again. Then he’s gone.


“Hiro...” Shuichi stretches his hand out and makes to get up.

I’m stupefied; I have no idea of how to react or what to say. I can hear Hiro punching the wall down the corridor and crying again, has he broken a window? This is all some kind of nightmare; it’s so surreal, everything is still floaty, beyond surreal. All I can hear now is Hiro sobbing. I think he’s collapsed outside. Shuichi looks horrified. He gets up quickly and stars getting dressed. He winces. His ass must be very sore; a constant reminder, a token of his unfaithfulness. I’d like to say it serves him well, but somehow I doubt I’d mean it. I’m so confused.

“What are you doing?” I finally bring myself to speak, and I ask him challengingly. “You are not going anywhere,” I say, and he turns around. There’s hatred in his eyes, they shoot daggers at me. If looks could kill, I’d be a bloody mess soiling the stupid, soon-to-be-replaced couch. He’s never looked at me like that before. It hurts. It really does, my chest, more than the needles in my brain. He walks up to me, he’s all fired up, like a rocket.

“I’m not going anywhere, you say? Not going anywhere?” His face is so close to mine and he’s so angry. I feel little droplets of saliva hit my face; he’s spitting his words out at me, like venom. They burn. “I’m going with him, because he’s my best friend and I love him, and it’s all my fault, and now, now...” He inhales air sharply; it looks like he’s going to have a heart attack, like he’s run out of air. The fuel won’t burn without oxygen, is my little rocket settling down? I wish.

“Why, Yuki? Why? Why?” Before I even have time to recover from the initial shock, he deals me another blow, quite literally this time. He’s just slapped me with all his might. He stares at me with intense loathing in his dilated pupils and his chest heaves. He’s glowing with revived strength. My cheek stings. My head stings. My heart stings. All I want to do is hold him in my arms, and wait until he calms down. But he doesn’t let me.

“YUKI, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!” He explodes and beats my chest angrily with his tiny fists; his face is drowning in tears. I hate seeing him cry, please make it stop, please don’t cry anymore. It’s all over now, darling.

“How could you, Yuki? How could you? I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He keeps hammering my chest; he’s squeezing the breath out of me. Please don’t cry. Please don’t say you hate me. I know you don’t mean it, do you? I feel drained; he’s squeezing the life out of me.

“I gave you everything, Yuki! Everything! What more do you want from me? What? Tell me!!” He keeps beating my chest. He speaks the truth. The truth hurts. I’ve never seen him like this, but then again, I’ve never seen me like this. I’ve never seen Hiro like this. Where are we? I don’t know what to say, and so I say nothing at all.

He pauses, waiting for me to say something, anything. All I see is hate in his eyes, I’m transfixed. All I can do is look at him, speechless. I have no idea of what kind of face I’m making at the moment. It’s the last thing on my mind, to be honest. His eyes are a silent plead for me to deny it, to apologize? To snap at him? My brain has stopped thinking. It’s frozen. I’m rooted to the sofa and it’s all blank.

“Go to hell, Yuki,” he murmurs. “I’m leaving. I hope you are happy.” His voice, it’s barely a whisper, so defeated, so broken. I can hardly hear it. I don’t want to hear it. Not when he says things like that. Happy? How could I be happy? Can’t he see? Shuichi you are such an idiot.

“Leaving me, you say? Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t live without me, Shuichi. Stop it.” I shout back at him, not quite as intimidating as I would have liked.

He gives me a piercingly cold look that would challenge one of my very own glares, and he turns his back on me. He’s really leaving. He’s taking off, away from me, leaving me alone in this vast ocean to drown. How can he do this to me? This is not happening. My mind is screaming for me to say something, but I don’t. The words are caught in my throat, imprisoned in my brain. They knock at the walls, they bat at the bars, at their prison of ice; they want to come out, but they can’t, they are locked in. I should shout something. Tell him that I’m sorry? Threaten him? Call his name maybe? Perhaps that would be enough to stop him, to keep him here. But only silence revolves around me.

Before I know it, he’s walking towards the door, he stumbles in the dark and he falls. He gets up again; he always does, he’s so strong, and he makes it to the entrance. He steps out without looking back.

Then another sound fills my ears. It’s eerie and creepy. With some surprise, I realize the sound is that of me laughing. The click of the door closing is a low amplitude wave in comparison, I barely record it. The jarred undulations waltz outwards in concentric ripples out from my parted lips. They glide towards the walls, then bounce off them, and sail through the air on their way back to me. They crash against my body, and swim down my ears, in turbulent waves that beat my heart, my chest, my head, making me resonate; I’m going to explode. The world twirls around me, dragging me down into a spiraling whirlpool. I’m still laughing; I’m not sure how much more madness I can take. I bring a hand to my aching stomach; I think I may be sick. Far away crying and laughter mingle to make a diabolical sound, where am I? Is this real? I kick my legs in the air and finally capsize. I fall off the couch, hitting my head against the corner of the table, but I ignore the stab of pain that shoots through me. I actually laugh harder. One of the bottles of whiskey falls to the floor and it shatters into a million pieces. Their uneven surfaces catch the ghostly moonlight, and they glitter, like iridescent, polished diamonds. The floor resembles the infinite sheet of water that is the surface of the sea, with its scattered elevations that reflect off the light, making them sparkle. Now it reeks of alcohol everywhere. It reminds me of Shuichi’s kisses earlier tonight. Can we go back in time? Back to when I was kissing you?

He left me. He chose him. He didn’t love me enough. I wish I were strong.

But all this time I thought this was the only way for them to see it wasn’t meant to be between them. Somewhere in my subconscious I was hoping they didn’t go through with it, even if it was ok with me. How was I to know that I was the one in over my head? How was I to know that this, in fact, was my weakest moment? That he’d choose him over me afterwards? The ironies of life, you have to take them with a stride, or better yet, laugh at them. God, you are such a sadistic bastard; the vilest of us all. Stupid sentimental emotions, why can’t I be just vile?


What a fucking soap opera. I feel something warm slide down my cheek and fall on my palm; one soft, translucent drop. It feels cool. I lift my hand and look at it in sheer wonder. I can’t stop laughing, this is utterly hysterical. Another drop, and then another. They are pouring down; it’s like the heavens have torn open and the fucking Deluge has come upon me, where’s Noah when you need him? I really do amuse myself sometimes. Even in moments like these, my mind works in its twisted way. Humans are so complex, so weird. I shouldn’t pretend that I understand them or that I understand or even know myself. I don’t know anything, I never did.


I choke, and realize I’m laughing no longer. The waves that reach me now carry a different frequency, that of a yowl; these are not tears of mirth. Somehow, in my head, I’m still laughing, aren’t I? Am I laughing or am I crying? The sound is muffled, distorted, liquefied. I wrap my arms around my chest, hugging myself tightly, suddenly I’m very cold. I’m shivering and my teeth are chattering. I’m a fucking sobbing mess. My body quails on the floor. It’s so very cold. I’m freezing. I wish I did freeze so I could stop feeling. I’m sinking, sinking, plummeting all the way down. I feel like a lead weight; I’m being dragged down and I can’t resist it. I don’t want to. I want to reach rock bottom, and drown. That’s better. Just like that... Quiet: wonderfully silent. There is so much water above my head. I can feel the pressure on my ears. I can’t see the surface, not a glimpse of sunshine. This ocean is dreadfully dark and mute, and so very lonely, so very vast, so very deep.


He left me. He left me. He chose him. He didn’t love me. I should have known. I should have known. But I don’t know anything; nothing at all.

I just want to die.

I’m lost in a gelid, tenebrous abyss; but I’ve crossed the barrier of pain and I’m numb. I can’t feel anything, except for the pressure on my head. It’s still pulsating. It feels inflated, like a balloon. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, just floating, suspended. It could be mere seconds or a few hours, but it feels like an eternity. I’m sinking deeper. I remember the first time I saw him, in those skimpy shorts and shirt, he was such an idiot. Those stupid lyrics, what did he know about love? He really is an idiot, jumping in front of my car like that, turning my life upside down. Why? I didn’t ask for this dammit. I didn’t want this.


“I want to know you by myself; I want to hear it from you. I want to know everything about you.”
I had to ask him why.
“It’s only normal,” he replied most naturally.
“It’s sad I don’t know about you. It’s not fair.”

He confused me. I had to kiss him to shut him up. But that was not to be the end of it.

“I don’t like not knowing things about you. Those things I don’t know, tell me them all,” he said. And so I told him about my past; about my darkest secret. And what did he do? He called me a fo “Yu “Yuki is Yuki,” he said that, too.



Yuki is Yuki, huh? You wanted to be close to Yuki. Is this who you wanted to be with? Is this who you wanted to know? You wanted to know how capable of hurting other people he can be? How pathetic and insecure he can be? How much Yuki wants to be with you, too? What he would do to keep you here, all to himself?

I’m too wrapped up in my internal reverie to hear the front door open or the light foot steps that pad towards me or indeed the person kneeling beside me. Thin arms wrap me up in a surprisingly strong embrace and I abandon myself. I feel as though a huge weight is being lifted. Gradually, I start to feel my own body again, and then his, against mine. I’m being pulled upwards, I’m rising, emerging. Everything is so bright, so warm, so colourful, when he’s around. The air returns to my lungs, slowly, and I can hear my hitched breaths start, proof that my brain is working again. The pain comes back with the wind, but that’s quite alright, it always comes back. It’s too stubborn to leave me, just like my little baka. I’m not that surprised; I really can’t lie to myself all that well.

I let him comfort me, even though he’s the one that’s lost it all. He’s the one rocking me against his chest now. He positions himself against the couch and I hear the broken glass scratch the wooden floor; it makes my teeth grit. He’s petting my head; his hands are becoming sticky with the warm blood on my temple. My head hurts, all of me does, but his mere presence and hands are so soothing. He caresses my hideously long hair and hugs me tighter. I’m such a wreck. A wreck rescued from the bottom of the sea, after a long hard battle. A battle I obviously lost; the war is another matter. But I’m truly too tired to care. He’s srongrong. Can we make peace? He wipes my tears with the blanket, the fabric feels coarse on my skin and my tears drench the harsh cloth in no time. I’m shocked to find out they are still there, there’s no stopping the flood; the wiped tears are simply replenished by fresh ones. I can’t stop them; I don’t even know why I’m crying. This is ridiculous, but I’m genuinely upset. I don’t want to feel, I want to be numb. But I let it happen again, didn’t I? How? When? I’m so stupid. I feel safe now though, ashore. I thought only Tohma had this effect on me. This is new. It’s better, purer. Suddenly, it’s not so hard to exist. I don’t care I’m like this. This is me, too. It’s okay for him to see me like this, at my lowest, at my weakest.


Forgive me sensei, why do I think of you now? The truth is I never stop thinking about you. Who am I kidding? I loved you that much you knew, and you betrayed me. You are the bastard. I still think of you.

Forgive me Shuichi. I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have pretended. I really didn’t mean for it all to turn out like this. I didn’t know he loved you so much. I didn’t know I loved you so much. I didn’t know you loved me so much. Loved me enough to show me I was wrong, to sacrifice your friendship, to hurt Hiro even more than you already had. See? I don’t know anything. I failed to protect you. I hurt you, didn’t I? But I had to know, needed to know. I’m so depraved.


Now the spell’s being bro the the veil has been lifted and your bubble has burst. We are left bare. You are my lifeline, and so I hang tight onto you. You kiss my ear and whisper something, and I just cling tighter. This is all we need to seal our treaty. Be strong for me, Shu. Be strong for the both of us, for the three of us. You’ve always been so strong. I know you understand; you know me so well despite myself.


The wind whistles, and it slaps the windows with intermittent blows. It’s raining outside; droplets of rain pelt the windows and slide down the hard glass, casting phantasmagorical shadows around us. The night is dark and bloodcurdling. Please don’t let go, I’m terrified. What have we done? What have we done? There’s no turning back now. We three were in over our heads all along, and it’s all my fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s everybody’s fault. We all plunged into bottomless waters and very nearly drowned. But you came back. You brought us back to the surface where we can breathe again, where we can be again. You didn’t leave me. You never do. I can’t push you away and I don’t want to anymore. We both know I never did. What I wanted was something else. Because you did love me, because you do love me. Because we are meant to be.

~ Owari ~


Yeah, yeah, cliché ending, had to do it >_< And he’s not fucked in the head.
A penny for your thoughts.