[identity profile] meiface.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] chineseink
NOTE TO SELF: EDIT.

Title: Jibun Kakumei
Fandom: Original
Pairing: n/a - gen
Rating: PG
Claimer: Yeah, mine.

People who are friends and people who are heroes. Why do we love the ones we do?


Notes: For Jaz. Title ganked from a Miyavi song. Lyrics within ganked from Gackt's Speed Master. Neither are mine.


Jibun Kakumei
Self-Revolution

“Pop is dead,” she said, throwing the CD case up in the air and catching it as it fell.

“I don’t listen to pop anyway,” he said, fingers still flying away at his laptop keyboard. He didn’t bother looking at her and she didn’t bother expecting him to. Instead, she leaned against the frame of the door leading to his room and studied the back of his head, continuing to toss her CD case up and catch it again.

“Hey Li,” she said, fingertips sliding over the smooth plastic case. “Wanna go see a movie tomorrow?”

He shook his head, black and dark red locks swinging. “Can’t,” was his short reply.
He rarely had time for her anymore. Yet she stayed on, leaning against the doorframe, watching him not look at her, engrossed in his personal business at hand.

A small smile touched her lips as he paused in his rapid typing to shuffle the papers and discs scattered across the desk. He had completely forgotten she was in the room; there would be no irritable snapping of, “What do you want?” or even “Get out.” He was so easily absorbed by his own little world.

There was really no room for her, but she liked to approach and loiter around the edges anyway, because watching him forget her was better than not seeing him at all.

She tossed the CD case into the air again and caught it. Again, she smiled, as she saw the title. She had always liked the singer. It was too bad pop was dead.

--

“Did Emi leave?”

Li looked up when his younger brother poked his head in the room and swept it with a frowning gaze. He blinked at the intrusion, then again upon discovering that Emi had, indeed, left. “I guess,” he said, even though Danny could clearly see for himself that there was no one else there.

“Crap. I wanted to ask her for help on my Algebra homework.” The younger boy cast a sidelong glance at his older brother. “Since you’re always too busy to help,” he added, an undecipherable tone to his voice.

Li just looked at him, expressionless.

There was a moment of silence as the two brothers looked at each other. Then Danny rolled his eyes and sighed. He stepped into the room, hands jammed in his pockets, and looking all his thirteen years. “What’re you doing anyway?”

“An essay for English.” Li turned back to his computer, apparently deciding that since whatever had just happened was now over, he could get back to his work. “And I’m downloading some MP3s.” He flipped a sheet of notebook paper and, without looking at the laptop screen, transferred his mass of scribbles to his Word document, fingers tapping rapidly.

Danny stepped further into the room, intrigued. “What songs?” he asked, approaching the desk. “’Cause there’ve been some that I’ve been wanting. Like, there’s this one song by—“

“Japanese music,” Li cut in sharply.

“Oh.” Danny’s shoulder slumped and he retreated to Li’s bed, sitting himself on the edge. He stretched out his jean-clad legs and crossed his ankles, staring at the ground. “Why’re you always listening to that junk, anyway?” he grumbled. “It’s not like you understand any of it. I mean, you never even turn on your radio. Why don’t you listen to something decent?

Li didn’t bother replying and Danny shot the back of his head a disgruntled look. “My brother is a loser,” he said, but he knew better than to expect a response. He never got one.

Irritated, Danny idly picked up the CD lying on top of the blue comforter. “Self-Revolution.” He flipped it over and read the track list. “The hell, Li? Are you listening to pop?” He snorted. “My brother is a loser.”

Li shuffled more papers. “Pop is dead,” he said.

He didn’t even warrant a normal sibling comeback like, “Don’t you have homework to do?” or the standard, “Shut up.” What was this?

“Sure is,” Danny agreed. Why was he here anyway? Bothering Li was a waste of time. He’d just been looking for Emi, but his dumb brother had probably chased her off too with his great people skills. Danny didn’t even know why she bothered to stay friends with Li.

Getting to his feet, Danny glared at his brother’s back. Idiot. Heading out of the door to return to his own room, he turned at the last moment and chucked the CD case at Li’s head.

Pop is fucking dead, indeed.

--

Kimi no koto o aishiteiru yo,” hummed Li to himself, under his breath, “kimi wa subete o kureru kara…

Emi looked askance at him from the neighboring desk. It always struck her as a little strange that Li was constantly singing and listening to songs that had to do with love. Sure, they were Japanese rock songs and more times than not the lyrics had to do with pain and anger and broken dreams, but regardless... She wondered why he gravitated toward songs that dealt with an emotion he seemed to avoid.

I love you, she thought, tapping her pencil against the desk in the familiar beat of the song. Because you give me everything.

She smiled to herself, bittersweet. What did Li know about giving everything? He rarely gave anything at all; he was too oblivious to the needs of others.
It wasn’t that he was selfish, she knew, it was just that he wasn’t…well-versed in empathy. Or the things that some people took as natural, like knowing when a friend wanted support or encouragement. He wasn't uncomfortable with such things, as some people were as they struggled clumsily with reassuring words; he just missed the entire need altogether. The emotions went clear over his head.

She scratched down another two lines of notes from the European history lecture and sneaked another look at the boy beside her. He was nodding his head the tiniest bit, tapping his fingers softly against the desktop as he listened to the music inside his head, tuning out the rest of the world. Words that he formed in familiarity, meanings that were translated for him, expressions that he knew better how to sing than to put into action…

And she smiled again, knowing that, like always, she’d make copies of her notes for him to study, even though it would never occur to him to ask.

--

Emi blinked away a sudden onslaught of sleepiness as she pulled her bagged lunch out of her bookbag and rooted around in it, drew out her sandwich. As she began eating, a familiar body slipped into the seat beside hers.

“Hi, Li,” she greeted him with a smile.

He returned the smile, his long black-streaked-red bangs falling over his eyes. “Hey.”

They sat beside each other in relative silence for a few minutes, both devouring their lunch in the manner of growing teenagers who hadn’t eaten in five hours. The bustle of the cafeteria was loud around them, but they paid it little heed.

“Where’s Ming?” Li finally asked, finishing the last of his sandwich.

“Making up a quiz.”

“Ed?”

“History project. Library.”

It was four minutes before lunch was over when Li said abruptly, “You look exhausted, Emi.”

--

“Will you help me with my science homework?” Danny asked Li, struggling to maintain a friendly expression and tone. He stood in the doorway to his brother’s room, hand resting on the frame.

Li didn’t look at him. “Emi’s here,” he replied, turning up his music.

“Well, she’s exhausted,” Danny snapped, giving up on any hope of an amicable conversation. “You don’t even know how hard she works, do you?”

Li glanced up at last. “I know,” he said matter-of-factly. “You should do your homework by yourself.”

--

He was raging again and it pained Emi to see him so upset. Danny was like a little brother to her—but even more, he was her friend, despite the four year age difference. She wished she could say something or do something to soothe him, to melt away the anger and the hurt that was written so clearly across his face.

“Danny,” she said, breaking into his rant and laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t hate Li. It’s just the way he is.”

He looked at her with furious brown eyes, emotion raging and spilling from him with every movement.

“We can’t change him,” she added, before he could start again. She moved back a little, to the kitchen table, and straightened the books and papers Danny had scattered in his tantrum. “If you want your relationship with him to be better, you have to change yourself.”

Danny opened his mouth again.

Emi smiled at him. “Li has a CD,” she said, closing his science textbook and laying his homework neatly on top of it. “You could probably borrow it without him noticing.”

Now Danny looked nonplussed at the abrupt change in subject.

“It’s called ‘Self-Revolution.’” Emi brushed a hand through her hair. Then, at Danny’s subsiding anger and his questioning look, she said, warmth coloring her voice, “He noticed I was tired, ne?”

Danny stared at her for a long moment. “Yes,” he said quietly.

--

But he didn’t do anything about it, he thought.

--

Danny now only called her for tutoring once a week. Emi frowned thoughtfully at the phone in her hands before replacing it in the cradle. Hopefully, it meant he was doing better on his own in school. It had been a nice reprieve, though she missed spending time with him every day. At least she still saw him frequently—she still wandered in and out of Li’s house at will, welcome by his parents, and earning even an occasional smile from Li, when he noticed she was there at all.

“Here,” he said to her one day, thrusting a jewel-toned CD case into her hand.

She looked at him in surprise and then flicked her eyes down at the CD. “Self-Revolution” was written across the CD-R in Li’s unmistakable handwriting.

“Burned you a copy,” he added needlessly.

She smiled.

“I know, pop is dead,” he muttered, studying his shoes and running a hand through his hair. “Just…I thought you’d like it.”

“I do. Thank you.”

--

“I’m home!” Danny shouted as he flung open the front door and kicked off his shoes. He dropped his bookbag onto the family room floor and strode to the kitchen in search of food. He rummaged through the fridge. Hmm… No more Coke left. He settled for an apple.

After washing his Fuji apple, Danny eyed his bookbag and the Algebra homework he knew was waiting for him. He contemplated for a moment, taking a bite out of his apple, then made up his mind and crossed the hall to the staircase.

“Hey, Li?” He knocked on his brother’s door before turning the knob and poking his head inside.

Li was at his computer, of course, but his hands were occupied with sketch pad and pencil this time. He didn’t turn at Danny’s call.

“Can you help me with my Algebra homework?”

“Emi not here?”

“She’s at a club.”

A long moment stretched between them, but where Danny was tense and uncomfortable, Li was oblivious. Finally, Danny reached inside himself and pulled out words that didn’t sound too self-righteous or castigating. “I guess you’re too busy to help me.”

Li glanced up. “You can do it on your own, you know.”

Acquiescing, Danny backed out and closed the door. As he headed back down the stairs, fighting to keep his temper in check, it hit him suddenly that maybe he could do it on his own. And that’s what Li had meant.

Blinking, Danny paused and glanced back toward Li’s room.

“Li,” he said, thirty seconds later, after a dash back up the stairs. “Can I borrow your Self-Revolution CD?”

--
Posted: 12.12.2004

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