Takaba glanced at his watch, the sa

Takaba glanced at his watch, the same one he had since long before his escape. It was the only article on him that spoke of distance days, a link to the past he had only half buried. He was running a last minute round through the exhibit, making sure everything was in order, the lighting, the positions. He would go home to change into a fresh set of clothes before lunch and come back by metro for the exhibit. He hadn't planned on attending, but Gyles had convinced him, saying it might be good for him.

This wasn't his first solo exhibit by any means, but for some odd reason, he was nervous as a rookie batter would be going up to the mat. He always was. His intestines felt tangled in his gut, butterflies colliding against the walls of his stomach. In the morning, Takaba had purposely skipped breakfast; there was good reason for it. His past experiences had not been so pleasant.

The five photos that he needed, he had chosen from the stacks and stacks of photos from Japan, thin negatives strips stored away in the many binders that lined the shelves of his darkroom. It had taken hours upon hours to sort through all the snapshots, trying to find adequate ones.

They brought back memories of his stakeouts, the escapes, the chases, and most of all, Asami. He thought he had thrown out all his pictures, but there was one left. Asami's face wasn't even in it, in fact.

The man's back was turned to the camera, and he was standing at a train platform while everyone else moved around him. Takaba cried when he recognized the negative, even in its distorted color and image, and realized that it was no doubt Asami and a very lonely one at that. The broad back, the slicked back hair, the confident, fearless stance. The figure was too perfect, too pristine to be anyone else. It screamed of prestige.

Instinct.

Takaba recognized it by instinct and intuition. Just as one beast knows when another has stepped into his territory.

And only Takaba knew the true significance of the photograph as he looked up at it, hung up against the white gallery wall, titled, "Nostalgia."

The morning conference had been an absolute disaster considering how inexperienced the two counterparts had been, despite their rank. Apparently, they seemed to think that they were the ones with leverage, not Asami, a notion that Asami quickly shattered thirty minutes into the conversation. Evidently, having the home field didn't do much to help these two blockheads. To quote their ignorance, "How much influence could you possibly have all the way from Japan?" Asami had had to remind them that it was the twenty-first century and that, although personal, geographical proximity certainly had a place in business, that pretty much the entire world was wired together now.

Honestly, these Londoners…

The lunch with the young politician had not gone much better. Rather, it was probably one of the most frustrating and aggravating experience that Asami had had in a very, very, very long time; the fellow had an inflated head with an overgrown sense of ego and unjustified confidence. It was nice to be confident, but there came a point when it simply had to stop. The fool. He may have had access to some of the routes, but with his so far young political career, he came nowhere near Asami in terms of influence, but the idiot didn't seem to recognize that crucial fact. It took the entire meal to pop the thick bubble and overall, nothing productive came out of it, and there was nothing more frustrating to Asami then unproductiveness and inefficiency. Asami left the restaurant rubbing his temples from the sheer frustration at having to talk to idiots for hours on hours. He found it more than difficult to communicate with people of such low intelligent.

He was glad to be going somewhere quiet, although he wasn't quite sure what to expect from a photography exhibit. For the past two years, he has both intentionally and subconsciously avoided anything that brought back memories of Akihito. Going to a photography exhibit, Asami almost feared that he might be reminded too much.

Takaba watched the lights go by in the dark tunnel of the metro, taking comfort in the rhythmic rocking as he sat quietly, unmoving. He had missed five stops in his daze and was having to ride back to the station where he would transit onto another line to get to the gallery.

A psychiatrist…what does he think I am, insane?

But Takaba knew that the doctor was right to an extent. He hated himself for it, that he relied on pills to ease the headaches, and that the bulge deep in his jean pockets where the yellow, translucent container was comforted him. He wasn't addicted to the medicine or anything, but without it, the headaches were unbearable.

But still… a psychiatrist…that was pushing it.

The insomnia was improving though with the help of Gyles. That was the first night, in their entire year of relationship that Takaba slept over at Gyles' house. Gyles had on special occasions stayed at Takaba's, but it was never the other way around before. Even after making love, Takaba would get up, get dressed, and go back home.

Why did I do that…

It was cruel of him to have left like that every time. Even that Monday night, he was prepared to leave, despite being both physically and mentally drained and exhausted. That is, until Gyles convinced him to sleep the night.

At first, it angered him for some reason, the fact that Gyles should ask him to stay. Then Gyles asked him, "Why not? Why won't you stay?" and Takaba wondered really, why won't I… and realized… "I don't know, Gyles. I don't know."

They argued after that. Full-fledged shouting at the top of their lungs argued.

"Why won't you stay with me for one night? Do you know what you're going to do when you get home?" Gyles threw up his hands in frustration, "Do you? Because I know. You're gonna sit up all night, staring at those bloody neon stars on the ceiling and cry yourself to sleep and wake up two hours later and do it all. Fucking. Over again!"

"So what if I do? What's it matter to you whether I stare at neon stars or not?!"

"What's it matter to me? What's it matter to me? Sei, my love, it's everything to me! You're everything to me!"

"Then let me go home! Why won't you just let me go?"

"And watch you slowly kill yourself?! You're asking me to watch you die?! How can you possibly ask that of a lover, Sei?! How am I supposed to stand here and do nothing while you edge closer and closer to the goddamned cliff? You're poisoning yourself, Sei. Do you not realize that? You're shooting venom into your veins and you don't even realize it! You're deteriorating right before my eyes and you won't let me help you!"

"I'm already dead, Gyles! Look at me!" Takaba could still feel the heat of Gyles' cheeks in his hands when he had held Gyles' face. "Look at me! This is decay! This is calling rotting! I've been dead! And I can't remember the last time my heart was beating."

"Then let me help you! Let me revive you! I would go to the underworld and back to bring you back, Sei! "

"Why would you do that? Why would you? For someone like me!"

"Why? WHY? Sei! Look at yourself! Listen to yourself and realize how you sound, how you look! Then you might understand! THEN you might understand why."

"I saw myself today, Gyles," he had pointed to the bathroom where the mirror was, "I saw myself and I've seen myself and you know what? It's not ME anymore. My reflections aren't me anymore! What can I do when I see a ghost of myself, a phantom, a vague… silhouette! I look into a mirror every goddamn morning and what I see is a mockery of what I used to be! My reflections are mocking me! Do you understand? They might copy, they might move the way I do, but they're… they're like… caricatures or something!"

"Sei…"

"Just…" he was exhausted then, "I'm going home…"

"Sei, you can't even walk straight…" Gyles was walking towards him.

"Stay back, don't. Oh don't, Gyles… just let me be." He had pushed Gyles away then. Fought him. Fought him until Gyles pinned him to the wall and sealed his mouth with a hot kiss. And when that kiss broke, Takaba fell to his knees sobbing, Gyles holding him close. He cried that night like he'd never cried before, until his eyes refused to weep but his mind continued, shaking his body with hiccups and sobs that didn't cease until Gyles put him to bed.

That was the night when his walls had begun to crumble, when the cracks began to form.

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Takaba glanced tại chiếc đồng hồ, cùng một ông có kể từ lâu trước khi thoát. Đó là điều duy nhất về anh ta đã nói về khoảng cách ngày, một liên kết với quá khứ ông đã có chỉ có một nửa chôn cất. Ông đã chạy một phút cuối vòng qua triển lãm, đảm bảo rằng tất cả mọi thứ là trong trật tự, ánh sáng, các vị trí. Ông sẽ đi nhà để thay đổi thành một tập mới của quần áo trước khi ăn trưa và trở về bằng tàu điện ngầm cho triển lãm. Ông đã không lên kế hoạch về tham dự, nhưng Gyles đã thuyết phục anh ta, nói rằng nó có thể là tốt cho anh ta.Đây không phải là của mình đầu tiên solo triển lãm bằng bất cứ phương tiện, nhưng vì một số lý do lẻ, ông đã lo lắng như một đập tân binh sẽ đi lên để mat. Ông luôn luôn. Ruột của mình cảm thấy rối trong ruột của mình, bướm đụng độ chống lại các bức tường của dạ dày của mình. Vào buổi sáng, Takaba đã cố ý bỏ qua bữa sáng; đó là lý do tốt cho nó. Ông kinh nghiệm quá khứ đã không như vậy tốt.Các bức ảnh năm mà ông cần thiết, ông đã chọn từ ngăn xếp và ngăn xếp của các hình ảnh từ Nhật bản, dải mỏng âm bản lưu trữ đi trong nhiều binders lót các kệ phòng tối của mình. Nó đã lấy giờ theo giờ để sắp xếp thông qua tất cả các bức ảnh chụp, cố gắng để tìm thấy những người đầy đủ.Họ đã mang lại kỷ niệm của stakeouts của mình, các thoát, các đuổi theo bắt, và hầu hết tất cả, Asami. Ông nghĩ rằng ông đã ném ra tất cả các hình ảnh của mình, nhưng đó là một trái. Khuôn mặt của Asami đã không ngay cả trong đó, trong thực tế.The man's back was turned to the camera, and he was standing at a train platform while everyone else moved around him. Takaba cried when he recognized the negative, even in its distorted color and image, and realized that it was no doubt Asami and a very lonely one at that. The broad back, the slicked back hair, the confident, fearless stance. The figure was too perfect, too pristine to be anyone else. It screamed of prestige.Instinct.Takaba recognized it by instinct and intuition. Just as one beast knows when another has stepped into his territory.And only Takaba knew the true significance of the photograph as he looked up at it, hung up against the white gallery wall, titled, "Nostalgia."The morning conference had been an absolute disaster considering how inexperienced the two counterparts had been, despite their rank. Apparently, they seemed to think that they were the ones with leverage, not Asami, a notion that Asami quickly shattered thirty minutes into the conversation. Evidently, having the home field didn't do much to help these two blockheads. To quote their ignorance, "How much influence could you possibly have all the way from Japan?" Asami had had to remind them that it was the twenty-first century and that, although personal, geographical proximity certainly had a place in business, that pretty much the entire world was wired together now.Honestly, these Londoners…The lunch with the young politician had not gone much better. Rather, it was probably one of the most frustrating and aggravating experience that Asami had had in a very, very, very long time; the fellow had an inflated head with an overgrown sense of ego and unjustified confidence. It was nice to be confident, but there came a point when it simply had to stop. The fool. He may have had access to some of the routes, but with his so far young political career, he came nowhere near Asami in terms of influence, but the idiot didn't seem to recognize that crucial fact. It took the entire meal to pop the thick bubble and overall, nothing productive came out of it, and there was nothing more frustrating to Asami then unproductiveness and inefficiency. Asami left the restaurant rubbing his temples from the sheer frustration at having to talk to idiots for hours on hours. He found it more than difficult to communicate with people of such low intelligent.He was glad to be going somewhere quiet, although he wasn't quite sure what to expect from a photography exhibit. For the past two years, he has both intentionally and subconsciously avoided anything that brought back memories of Akihito. Going to a photography exhibit, Asami almost feared that he might be reminded too much.Takaba watched the lights go by in the dark tunnel of the metro, taking comfort in the rhythmic rocking as he sat quietly, unmoving. He had missed five stops in his daze and was having to ride back to the station where he would transit onto another line to get to the gallery.A psychiatrist…what does he think I am, insane?But Takaba knew that the doctor was right to an extent. He hated himself for it, that he relied on pills to ease the headaches, and that the bulge deep in his jean pockets where the yellow, translucent container was comforted him. He wasn't addicted to the medicine or anything, but without it, the headaches were unbearable.But still… a psychiatrist…that was pushing it.The insomnia was improving though with the help of Gyles. That was the first night, in their entire year of relationship that Takaba slept over at Gyles' house. Gyles had on special occasions stayed at Takaba's, but it was never the other way around before. Even after making love, Takaba would get up, get dressed, and go back home.Why did I do that…It was cruel of him to have left like that every time. Even that Monday night, he was prepared to leave, despite being both physically and mentally drained and exhausted. That is, until Gyles convinced him to sleep the night.At first, it angered him for some reason, the fact that Gyles should ask him to stay. Then Gyles asked him, "Why not? Why won't you stay?" and Takaba wondered really, why won't I… and realized… "I don't know, Gyles. I don't know."They argued after that. Full-fledged shouting at the top of their lungs argued."Why won't you stay with me for one night? Do you know what you're going to do when you get home?" Gyles threw up his hands in frustration, "Do you? Because I know. You're gonna sit up all night, staring at those bloody neon stars on the ceiling and cry yourself to sleep and wake up two hours later and do it all. Fucking. Over again!""So what if I do? What's it matter to you whether I stare at neon stars or not?!""What's it matter to me? What's it matter to me? Sei, my love, it's everything to me! You're everything to me!""Then let me go home! Why won't you just let me go?""And watch you slowly kill yourself?! You're asking me to watch you die?! How can you possibly ask that of a lover, Sei?! How am I supposed to stand here and do nothing while you edge closer and closer to the goddamned cliff? You're poisoning yourself, Sei. Do you not realize that? You're shooting venom into your veins and you don't even realize it! You're deteriorating right before my eyes and you won't let me help you!""I'm already dead, Gyles! Look at me!" Takaba could still feel the heat of Gyles' cheeks in his hands when he had held Gyles' face. "Look at me! This is decay! This is calling rotting! I've been dead! And I can't remember the last time my heart was beating.""Then let me help you! Let me revive you! I would go to the underworld and back to bring you back, Sei! ""Why would you do that? Why would you? For someone like me!"
"Why? WHY? Sei! Look at yourself! Listen to yourself and realize how you sound, how you look! Then you might understand! THEN you might understand why."

"I saw myself today, Gyles," he had pointed to the bathroom where the mirror was, "I saw myself and I've seen myself and you know what? It's not ME anymore. My reflections aren't me anymore! What can I do when I see a ghost of myself, a phantom, a vague… silhouette! I look into a mirror every goddamn morning and what I see is a mockery of what I used to be! My reflections are mocking me! Do you understand? They might copy, they might move the way I do, but they're… they're like… caricatures or something!"

"Sei…"

"Just…" he was exhausted then, "I'm going home…"

"Sei, you can't even walk straight…" Gyles was walking towards him.

"Stay back, don't. Oh don't, Gyles… just let me be." He had pushed Gyles away then. Fought him. Fought him until Gyles pinned him to the wall and sealed his mouth with a hot kiss. And when that kiss broke, Takaba fell to his knees sobbing, Gyles holding him close. He cried that night like he'd never cried before, until his eyes refused to weep but his mind continued, shaking his body with hiccups and sobs that didn't cease until Gyles put him to bed.

That was the night when his walls had begun to crumble, when the cracks began to form.