Kaneki said the word ‘love’ depended entirely on the context.
Usually, he said it the same way that he would say 'notebook’ or
'refrigerator.’ If he said it at all- which he usually didn’t- it was
because he was discussing the plot device of a fictional relationship
where one or both characters would inevitably be murdered.
to make up for that, Hide practically abused the word. He would
proclaim his love loudly and often for pop music, the English
language, cheese, the smell of grass, hair conditioner, hamburgers,
how the clouds look right before it rains, the color orange, and
shirts made from cotton.
had only once heard Kaneki say the word like it meant something. And
he was, of course, talking about books.
love this passage.” Kaneki
smiled and lightly skimmed his fingers across the page. (Hide had
never wished so badly in his life that he had been an inanimate
object instead of a person.) “Takatsuki Sen writes so beautifully.”
eyes had followed the curve of Kaneki’s mouth. He thought about all
the things he loved that he had never put words to. He wondered if
maybe, one day, he too would be able to make beautiful things that
Kaneki could love.
the writer. messy notebooks, messy desks. messy head. scribbling all over their arms. night owl. never being able to finish a project. losing too many ideas due to forgetfulness. passionate about everything. know-it-all. not knowing their own limits. trying to make flowers bloom, even during heavy storms.
the poet. quiet. visual mind. head filled with ideas, struggling to find the right words. not being productive for three months and then writing six poems in an hour. reading the entire dictionary several times. noticing little details that no one else does. laughing quietly. wishing to be enough, someday.
the painter. failing at consistency. having paint all over their face, clothes, and desks. spending more money on art supplies than on anything else. notebooks filled with doodles, tears, and flowers. radiating sunshine. heavy mood swings. supporting, and being supported.
the performer. loud. not hesitating to speak up, for themselves, for others. trying to see the good in everything. rain, and the smell before rain. drinking more coffee than their body can handle. reading every book at once. laughing and crying at the same time. being honest. the helping hand everyone needs.
Inspired on a real location outside Dobutsuen-mae subway station in Osaka. A place where there used to be a small kiosk called “Ahiru no Shinbun-ya san” (アヒルの新聞屋さん, literally “Mrs. Duck Newspaper Shop”) and whose owner kept a family of ducks next to it. A special place that for years was part of the neighborhood and that for unknown reasons was closed in 2015.
History aside, this was a truly challenging piece, not only for all the details, but I wanted to give it a nostalgic feeling so I tried to get the right colors of a cloudy day just when the first raindrops starts falling. I hope you like it.
Jimin tilted his head as if to ponder the idea before tugging you across the bed until you were leaning against his chest, curious eyes catching your own.
“Sure, I mean one day. One day, far, far away,” He said, pointing his finger off into the distance jokingly.
You laughed, hand skimming along the back of his neck. “Yeah, me too.”
“Any particular reason why you’re asking?” He said as he began playing with the strands of your hair.
“I dunno,” You shrugged. “We’ve been dating for a long time, just thought that it’s something we should know about each other.”
Jimin nodded, “No, you’re right. It’s kind of something you should figure out before things get too far in the relationship… Guess we waited a bit too long, but we’re on the same page, so that’s good,” He smiled, leaning down to place a short peck against your lips.
“So that means you think that information will be put to good use one day?” You asked, quirking your brow to insinuate.
Her wry smile turned to a frown as she frantically attempted to let go of his hand.
He calmly pat her in the head before continuing…
“Like how the rain helplessly falls to kiss the earth. How the waves can’t resist coming back to hug the shore. I have no choice, it is my very nature to love you.
My mind filled with holes so it drowns oh so easily in the depths of your eyes. My heart molded like a flute so it always sings your name. My soul hollowed out so it would always seek you as if you’re the only thing in this world that can fill it. I have no choice when every inch of my being is drawn to your perfections.”
He glanced at her birth mark and smiled, “and to your imperfections.”
“Because love” he held her chin and slowly leaned forward “the first time my lips pressed on yours I decided there will never be a better choice”.