Memoirs of a Broken Guitar String (A Mafuyu x Uenoyama Fanfic)

Mafuyu's POV

"Morning, Uenoyama-kun," I greet, when I see him at school.
"Ah, morning, Mafuyu. How are the song lyrics coming along?" Uenoyama-kun asks.

I'm not sure how to answer him as the lyrics aren't ready yet, so I just stare at the floor and shake my head.

"Ah, it's okay. You'll get there soon. Just do your best," Uenoyama-kun says as he ruffles my hair. "I'll see you at lunch and you can listen to the song to see what you think."
"Mhm, okay," I reply.

At lunch, Uenoyama-kun lets me listen to the track with his headphones and I am just immersed in his sound. His ability to create this amazing melody from just small tidbits of a tune playing in my head is incredible. He really has a gift for music and it is clear how passionate he is about it. Will I ever find something that I'm passionate about?

"This song, I really like it," I tell him once I'm finished. He looks genuinely surprised and I think that it's cute that he has no response.

"Thank you," I tell him before I head to my next class. I still can't believe that he wrote this song for me and has entrusted me to come up with lyrics for it. I definitely don't want to disappoint him. I have something I want to convey to others coming to the live show, but I just haven't found the right words yet.

Sometimes it's almost like my mind is subconsciously trying to make me run in the opposite direction of my memories with Yuki to shield the pain. But I don't want to run anymore. Running away won't make these pent up feelings magically disappear.

When Hiiragi asked me why I started playing music, I couldn't give him a straightforward answer at the time. My mind and heart were still haunted by what happened. If I'm completely honest with myself, I'm still not sure if I started music to try to move forward or because I can't let Yuki go. How do you let go of a part of yourself?

From the day I first met Yuki when we were just young kids, it felt like he completed me; like there was a piece of my heart missing and he filled it completely. He was as essential to me as air and was always there. I gladly followed him wherever he went because I was happy being by his side. Ever since he left me here, sometimes I feel like I'm missing half of myself. Like I may still be breathing, but not fully alive anymore. Like a part of me died with Yuki. All I have left are these remnants of our memories together and his guitar.

I think back to that dream of sinking beneath the waves, convinced that I was going to drown but Yuki rescues me and says "Mafuyu...we will always be together." He stared at me with a loving gaze but also looked pained somehow, like he knew and regretted that he had to leave me behind to go wherever he was heading to next.

I think the dream is Yuki's way of reminding me that even though he isn't physically here anymore, that wherever I go, a part of him will always be with me. That I will never truly be alone. Every breath that I take, I also take one for him and his story will continue through me now.

With Yuki's message guiding me to move forward, my determination to face my past and put my feelings into actual words grew stronger.

                                        ***

On the weekend, I try to focus and think of some lyrics but feel uninspired. So I strap Yuki's guitar case to my back and decide to take a solo trip to revisit the places that remind me of him. I've been avoiding them since the funeral because it was just too painful to visit them without Yuki next to me. I walk past our old middle school and childhood neighborhood we grew up in, through the subway platform and shopping district, ride the bus and walk until I'm at my intended destination: the ocean.

Staring out at the deep blue ocean stirs up some strong, uncomfortable feelings inside. The ocean was my special place with Yuki. Our first real date as a couple was here. He told me that I would probably forget in ten years that windy winter trip to the ocean, but I don't think I ever will. That day was imprinted into my memories. I take a deep breath in and release it as I gaze at the ocean waves. I'm not lonely. 

Yes, there is definitely something I want to convey with words.