without you.
"I don't think we should go through with this," I withdrew the cigarette from my lips, breathing out a warm cloud of smoke. I watched the smoke swirl and fade into the musty room.
"Well, I think we should," Sugizo leaned forward. His long jet black hair swished. I couldn't help but glare at him. How could he keep his hair so long? "Its been ten years now. We can do it!"
My hand slammed down on the table. Pata and Heath jerked in surprise. Even I flinched. "You wouldn't understand," I cried out, growling in Sugizo's face. "No one can replace him."
"Toshi, settle down," Yoshiki said calmly. His hand had a firm grip on my arm. I could feel his warm eyes on me. "We never said we were replacing him."
I scoffed in Sugizo's direction. "Don't you think that ever since we got him, we were replacing Hide?"
The conference room suddenly became silent. Sugizo shifted in his seat, leaning back this time. His mouth went from a frown to a straight line. "Toshi, I'm not replacing him. I'm just a stand in."
What's the difference? I wanted to scream. I looked at Yoshiki out of habit. He stared back at me, eyes threatening to fill with tears. "We won't do anything until you change your mind, Toshi," Yoshiki's sighed, a slight tremble in his voice.
"Good," I mumbled, putting out the cigarette stub. The ash tray glowed with five stubs. Five. I took one last look at the other five people around the conference table. My eyes locked with Yoshiki for a split second. "Later."
Standing up, I shut the door behind me with a loud bang. I must have looked like a stubborn idiot in there, but I felt like I had to do it. It wouldn't be the same without Hide. How could I possibly sing without Hide? My throat ached at the thought. Meandering through the halls of Yoshiki's studio, I tried recollecting my thoughts. Los Angeles was a strange place. Why did Yoshiki want to live here?
"Leaving so soon, Toshi?" Yoshiki's secretary asked at the front desk.
Somehow I couldn't help but grumble and push through the entrance doors. Hideto, have I become a bitter old man? I could picture Hide chuckling at me, his ever wide smile present on his face. I stood outside for a couple of minutes. "Basking in American sun," Hide called it. The sun was no different from the sun back home. He had great enthusiasm for America. I, on the other hand, never did like the palm trees.
Sighing, I pushed my hair out of my eyes. Yoshiki wanted to have a reunion. I could see the headlines now. "X-Japan is back together after ten years!" We would never be back together, never back to who we were. Not without Hide. I closed my eyes and thought of the hot night when-
"You'll catch a cold standing out here," Yoshiki's voice rang out in clean, distinct English.
I turned around and smirked. "Speak in Japanese, you foreigner. Plus, it's boiling."
"Shut up," he chuckled, and opened the door to his car, motioning for me to go inside. It was a North American car. Black and sleek. I still prefer bikes.
"You're kidnapping me," I muttered, climbing into the leather death trap.
"No, I'm sheltering you," Yoshiki replied.
The car started. I'm still not used to sitting on the right. American cars are strange. I stared at the palm tree lined road infront of us.
"I'm an old man, Yoshiki," I sighed.
"Shut up, I'm only a few months younger than you," he laughed.
A small smile crept onto my face. His smile is still the same. After thirty-nine years of knowing him, his smile never changed. It felt like I've known Yoshiki my whole life. And people wonder why I left the band.
"Seriously, do you think I can still sing like I did back then?" I continued on.
"Yes," he said plainly. Always the leader. "You've been doing acoustic lives for the past ten years, haven't you?"
Agh, caught me there.
"Hide-chan would want you to do this," He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. His fingers gripped the wheel. I noted how rough they were.
"Hmph," was the only reply I could come up with. I looked sulkily out of the window. Goosebumps crawled over my skin.
I looked back at Yoshiki. Many would say he had not aged, but I could see the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the sag in his cheeks, the lines around his mouth. His large nose seemed more prominent than ever. He was also getting thin.
Hide would have been 43 now.
"I agree that it won't be the same, but he's gone now. He'll be happy listening to you sing. Sing for him."
"How should I sing to you without you?" I mumbled.
Yoshiki gave me another sympathetic glance. "Don't make fun of our lyrics."
A shiver ran up my back. Hide's smile flashed in my mind. "Without him..." I shook my head and rested it on the dashboard. "It won't be without the same without him. But we'll try our best, won't we? We'll play so loud, Hideto-chan can hear us."
Yoshiki's comforting hand petted my head. I gave in.
On that dashboard, I fell asleep. Hide was in my dream. His lean body staggered, a hand clutching a bottle of alcohol. His words slurred, an angry expression on his face. "I hate you Toshi," He spat. He slammed the apartment door in my face. On the other side, he put the bottle to his lips and drank heavily until every last drop of it was gone. His bright pink hair bobbed up and down as he made his way to the bathroom.
Grabbing the towel, he sat against the hotel door. "Sore... My shoulder is sore," Hideto moaned. He wrapped the towel around his neck and attached it firmly onto the door knob.
"Thats better," he muttered, flexing his shoulder. His eyelids fluttered. "Sleepy... Bed..." He must have forgotten. He tried to get up, but the towel-
I woke up in a cold sweat, lying on Yoshiki's bed. I made up my mind. I'll sing my heart out for you. And I'll do it without you.
"I feel alone.
How should I love you,
How should I feel you,
Without you?
The endless poem of love, I'll dedicate it to you now."
My voice rang out, wavering. Tears formed behind my glasses. The fans screamed and cried. Beyond the ocean of people, I imagined you there. Your mischievous smile glowed. High cheekbones flushed. Eyes glittering. Pink hair sticking up in all directions.
Hideto. My eyes closed. Are you somewhere up there with a bottle of junmai-shu in your hand, watching the show? Can you hear us?