Wonderland

by Ting-Ting

Band: Dir en Grey, Miyavi
Pairing: ToshiyaxMiyavi
Rating: PG
Status: One-shot
Genre: AU. Fantasy/Angst/Romance/General // Little of all
Comments: My English is not good… Told from Miyavi’s POV.


***

I want to know if he’s still here…

I don’t know if I should forget him now… It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. I stay here and as each year passes, someone dear leaves and someone amiable moves in, but his face isn’t among them. I sit by the window, ignoring everyone, hoping to hear his voice again. The playroom is gathering dust. I grow older and still… Did he forget our secret?

I met him years ago when I was young, emotional, and what he found so attracting, innocent. I’ll never forget the day I met him.

The day was dreary, the sky seemed colorless and my home seemed drab. A canvas of gray. I was trying to find my way through the maze, away from my disappointed and scolding parents. I didn’t want to deal with being tolerant with my teachers and the other students. I was extremely angry that my mother tried to invade my nonexistent life. I wanted to get away from all the expectations. I wanted to find somewhere that was me.

It took me hours to find the exit. I was breathless when I opened the gate. It was perfect. I collapsed there, in my small sanctuary, and fell into slumber.

“Are you ignoring me?”

His voice was something enchanting. I awoke to a kiss my mother never gave to me. I heard his soft laughter and froze underneath him. Thoughts of fear and panic ran through my mind and I felt like crying. The one time I find solace and someone takes it away from me.

“Who are you?” I demanded harshly, rolling away from his warmth, which I instantly missed. He smiled and laughed again. He crawled towards me and gathered my trembling body into his arms.

“Kawaii…” He said it to me many times afterwards, always breathing on my ear. I am deaf now.

“I am Toshiya.” I’ll never forget his name. He cradled me against his chest, stroking my hair. I was still frighten by him, a stranger older than me. Why was he here? I will never know.

“Get away from me…” I still remember the soft, pleading tone I had used, making my voice crack into a sob.

“Poor kitten,” he cooed in return, brushing the salty droplets off my skin. He didn’t let me go and I stayed there for hours more, soon falling asleep under his smile.

He wasn’t there when I awoke again and I felt lonely. I sat there, in the cold, staring at where he should have been. Right next to me. A dream… Is that all this was?

I picked myself up and dragged myself away from there, almost as if I had been hurt. But that was not too far from the truth. I longed to see him again, the angel carrying my frail heart.

Later that night, I saw him. I was stifling my cries from after the beating my father delivered. I needed to be strong, to please my father, to satisfy the world. I bit my lip even when blood started to trickle down my chin. A brush ran through my hair when I looked up from my lap.

The eyes I met were not my own broken ones. I instantly knew the perfection I was gazing at was him. We simple stared at each other before I broke down. Even now I do so when all I see is myself.

“Don’t cry… please…” It was a promise. He sadly looked down at the sight of me sobbing into my arms. Please…

I stopped, but only for him. I didn’t want to see despair on his beautiful face. I fell asleep that night at the dresser with his lullaby flowing through my mind.

“I want to see you again…” I strove for the chance to escape, to run from reality and into his arms. The yearning for him grew too strong and I broke away. From everything that was stable. I couldn’t take it any longer one day, and without thinking, I bolted from the room. I didn’t stop even when they tried to hold me back. Soon I was lost in the maze again, the way they could never follow.

I stumbled through blindly until I crashed into him. My weight caused us to tumble into a breathless heap on the ground.

“You’re back…” I wish he was, but those were the words he gave to me. I gasped in joy and embraced him, and finally there was a blanket around me. I suppose I had never been so happy. The way he gazed at me adoringly when I smiled made me melt.

“Who are you?” This time it was him asking me, asking for something special. My little heart literally drowned in happiness. It was a secret, I had told him. I pulled him close and whispered into his ear.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

He nodded to my wish and sighed in content as I played with his hair. I had such a fascination with the unique coloring of his hair, much like fondness with playing in meadows with a box and red umbrella nearby. I had never felt such silky hair, not even my own was so well taken cared for.

“You’re perfect…” He giggled when I absently confessed to him. His finger was smooth on my cheek as he trailed it downward until it twisted a loose strand of black. I remember being pushed to the ground gently and willingly before I felt his familiar figure on top of mine. Was that my first? Everything was new, different, with him. He leaned down and claimed my lips.

I was shocked needless to say, but he pulled away soon enough, murmuring, “No. You’re perfect.”

Perfect. He thought I was perfect. I still wish he was here to reassure me that. He was the only one to call me as such.

“Together, we are beautiful.” And I had to agree once he brought me to the marble fountain, where I sat at the edge with him. But reflections and photographs can be deceiving.

He talked a lot, about many things, but I didn’t complain. He knew how much I liked him. Perhaps he forgot.

I left sharing a timid kiss over the fate. When I reached the house, I rushed to my room and stared intently at the mirror. I couldn’t stay away from him and he was pleased about that. Days went by and we shared a moment each day. I grew accustomed to being held by him and soon couldn’t go on without hugging him at least once a day.

“Look at…” He didn’t like the rain. He never did even when I came along. Dancing. Dance. Playing in the rain on a day without light was what I enjoyed. I felt so free, but he felt trapped. I knew he watched me with some kind of longing when I laughed and spun about the fountain. What he didn’t like was the tears.

“The rain is mocking you. I can’t stand seeing you cry near the windows. Why do you let it do that?” It soon rained on our hearts. I still regret the times I could have asked him to a dance. The music only we could hear and the ballroom to ourselves. I can no longer find him in the crowd.

“…how beautiful…” I was his inspiration and he was the one who wrote the note I can recall. He was the fan no one could be. He admired me for everything I was before he knew.

I brought my guitar to him, my only friend to spill my feelings into. I sat on the wooden swing and played him my thoughts. Still more hours he sat before me, laughing, clapping, and singing with me. I never heard a single mellow note form his bass, but he heard every story of my guitar.

“…we…” He set aside my instrument to kiss me briefly on the cheek. His graceful movements had me mesmerized as he leapt onto the swing, his feet on either side of me. The flower covered vines, was it roses?, were gripped firmly in his hands as he rocked us back and forth.

The sky never seemed so close since then with him. I reached out to touch the blue, but his laughed stopped me for I didn’t want to leave.

The picture of us together on the swing is covered by shadows.

“Miyavi…” I want to hear him next to me, saying my name in so many ways again. To everyone my name was just a specific word to be referred to. To Toshiya, my name was me, a treasure that only belonged to him. I wonder if he can still name the significance of my name.

“Elegance…” Cannot last. Soon it will wither away into the blind, deaf, and mute. Together we were the portrait that everyone admired and wanted to paint again. If that was only possible. What am I without him? I am just a doll sitting on the shelves, waiting to be picked up and loved.

“Toshiya…” I used to cry his name every night. I used to think that he watched me in my sleep after the mirror broke.

Toshiya.

Miyavi.

Who am I without him? Toshiya and Miyavi. That is all I can say. Without him, I am just Miyavi, but we were supposed to be Toshiya and Miyavi. Everything.

“What is love?” Does it exist? Part of me knows it does, but there’s the frighten that says ‘no.’ I heard about it in the stories I read, in the chatter girls made, but was it only meant for them?

“I love you.” A year was all we had. A year took me to realize we were more than friends. I left the house in the afternoon to see him, like any other day. He was there as usual, playing on the swing. He smiled at me and the butterflies flew to him. We sat under the shade of the now bare tree, feeding each other berries, laughing until I grew quiet.

“What is wrong?” I was stuttering at first, something not characteristic of who I am now. The three words came spilling out of my mouth and he caught them. Things were silent at the time the sun began setting. I was scared. Was it the right thing to say? After so long, he was constantly there for me, even in my sleep. He was someone that was my diary. I felt wanted and important around him. I cannot explain. There did have to be something more?

He seemed stunned, his eyes staring at my hidden face before he broke out in tears of happiness. He was never so ecstatic about anything when he embraced me and I found my fingers tangled in his hair once again. He was more aggressive, but never so sweet.

It was all a mistake. I was the optimistic when I smiled subconsciously and then let my eyes flutter open. He was nowhere to be seen. I was heartbroken and could not find the will to move. The wind caressed my skin where his touch was. The last rose fell.

“Toshiya…” I cannot remember what my last words were. His true last gift to me was the three words I am too afraid to say. It was not meant to be, was it?

I did not give up the small glass of hope I had. Months I would deny he had left. Months I still smiled sadly and still thought he would be back. I could swear I see him sometimes whisking around the corner, running through the maze, everywhere just like before. Dreams were the only times we saw each other, but even then, he still wouldn’t stay.

Everything must come to an end, must it not?

Toshiya and Miyavi were the music box we kept.

We can turn the knob and then let the figurine spin along with music. The music is a fragile thing, but yet the crinkling is something beautiful and powerful. The figurine continues to twirl until the music ends. But then we can twist the knob again. But slowly, the figurine tires and dances more slowly as the music breaks down. It is like the end of every music phrase, but this time it is not the end. No matter how many times we try, our music box continues to have imperfections. Too soon the light grows dim and the music is faint. This is the end. Our music box can last forever, but the ballerina and the heart it listens to must stop.

I no longer see him anymore in my dreams when I fall asleep in my secret garden.


From the piano emitted a glow, Tinted glass windows decorated the gothic-style church
Who who who is playing stanza by stanza of roaming melancholy
I follow the direction of the piano melody to see roses lying on the oil portrait of the 18th century
At the side quietly appreciating, Thinking about your romance, Looking at it again, Would it be the same forever?

A a fu shou a a fu shou yap so so sorry so so so
Moderato Andantino Portmento Fortissimo
The bandit, he stole
The priest said NO
Awaken from a dream I have nothing left

I am standing at the Square of Prague in the evening
At the wishing well I cast in my hope
The flock of pigeons, back faced to the sunset
The scene is too beautiful I dare not look

At the Square of Prague
A desolated corridor
Alone I dance, twirling
At a place not far away you sing
You are not really used to being without me

The Square of Prague
The crowded theatre on a quiet lane, a small café
Awaken from a dream I have nothing left
This is the final outcome of the story.

Lyrics written by Jay Chou for Cai Yi Lin’s bu la ge guang cheng
 

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