Title: When They Were Young
Chapters: Oneshot
Author: paige_nevaeh
Genre: Fluff. A little angst
Rating: G
Pairing: Isshi/Byou
Summary: Do you remember when we met? You probably don’t, you were only five years old at the time. I remember that day, almost as if it was yesterday.
Comments: Oh no, I wrote yet another ScReW fic - haha. I hope you like this one, I think it's my best. Please have a read & comment. Thanks!
( You look at me for a few moments, eyes sparkling, smile widening. ) I remember that day, almost as if it was yesterday. It was summer, a fairly hot day. I watched that removal van all morning as it unloaded box after cardboard box– I can remember being so excited, I had hoped that the neighbours weren’t elderly and cranky like everyone else in the neighbourhood. Then I saw that battered green vehicle pull up and you climbed out. I remember thinking how cute you were, you were so small for your age and you had that mop of long black hair which needed a trim. My mother – being the woman that she is – marched us straight over to your house in her favourite white yukata, to introduce ourselves. You weren’t at all shy, like a lot of small children would be; you gave me the biggest smile you could, your big brown eyes sparkling mischievously. Your mother introduced you to me, she was a lot younger that my own I noticed – and she was ever so glamorous. She was dressed in a short skirt and a tight white blouse, and her hair was bleached blonde. I’d never seen a woman like her. “But you can call me Byou.” You’d told me, you whispered it into my ear, and I remember the way your breath tickled my ear, and the way I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face or the light blush on my cheeks. I grew used to your company; you were quite a bit younger than me, but I quite liked having someone that looked up to me the way you did. We saw each other every day that summer. We were inseparable; I loved those days when we’d go down to the lake, we used to sing together – it was a passion of mine – even when I was a youngster. It was one of yours too; you had a huge voice for such a tiny kid. You loved to sing X Japan songs, especially ‘Forever Love’, though you’d struggle with the English bits; it was your favourite song. I wonder if it still is. You used to spend most nights round at our place too, your mother worked late at night; mine would tuck you into the spare futon in my room and kiss us both on the forehead before we went to sleep. I’d wake up most mornings to find you’d crawled onto my futon; I didn’t mind you snuggling into me those nights. You smelt like chocolate and cheap shampoo – which can’t be a bad thing. Every time you left the next morning my mother would shake her dark hair which she always had tied up in a tight bun. She’d say to my father that your mother was a silly young girl who shouldn’t have a kid, she’s also say what a shame that your mother had to ‘sell her body to old men every night’; I didn’t know what that meant at the time. How did one sell their body? I know you always loved your mother; and she fascinated me too. She was what most people would call a ‘free spirit’ – much like you. You told me about how you moved around a lot; I guess you didn’t understand why at the time. My mother always told me to look out for you. So I did. You lived door to me for three years. We didn’t see each other as much, I had school and my friends, of course then it would be weird for me to be hanging around with an eight year old. We’d still see each other on those nights you’d sleep over. But I wouldn’t let you sleep with me anymore – that’s something I’ll always regret, you were a fragile young boy and I pushed you away. Your mother didn’t come home one time. We waited all the next day for that old green car, you ran to the window every time you heard a car; but it was never the right one. You were so scared, you wouldn’t stop shaking, and I couldn’t even calm you down. That night you slept at my house for the last time. I let you sleep on my futon with me, for the first time in so long. I held you while you cried, big broken-hearted cries. “S-she promised she’d never leave me.” You wept, over and over. I don’t think either of us slept that night. The next day a kind looking woman turned up in a grey pinstripe suit – her long wavy hair matched the suit. My mother sent me and you to the corner shop to get some ice cream while the strange lady and she talked. When we got back the woman -whose name was Ms. Minagawa- that she was taking you to live with your uncle in Tokyo. And that was my first heart-break. I hugged you so hard I wouldn’t be surprised you’d broken there in my arms. I didn’t want to let you go; I couldn’t. Ms. Minagawa touched you on the shoulder, gently. “It’s time to go.” She said kindly, but firmly. And so I had to let you go. “I’ll miss you.” Was all I could manage to choke out, my vision had gone blurry and my cheeks were already damp with tears. You pecked me on the cheek. “I’ll miss you too.” And you gave me a small smile, as if to say ‘hey, I’ll be ok.’ You took Ms. Minagawa’s hand and she led you away. I watched out the window, fighting back my tears until the blue minivan had disappeared completely. Time passes. I grow older, but I never forget you. I start a band; we make it, big-time. I’m busy a lot of the time now, but I guess I’m doing what I always wanted to do. Then some party pops up – a new band being signed to the record company. I don’t want to go; I’m not a party person. But Nao, my best friend and band mate, persuades me, for the reason that ‘it’ll be a good laugh’. So I do my hair and I put on something nice and go along to this pointless social gathering. I’m standing with Nao and a couple of the other PS Company guys; Uruha, Shou. Nice guys. Then our manager comes over to introduce this new band – ScReW, that’s what they call themselves. I freeze the minute I see them. You…you’re one of them. Oh, how you’ve changed. You’re tall now, and your hair’s bleached blonde and you’re wearing make-up. I dare say you look just like your mother – only more beautiful. I’d recognize your cheeky smile and those eyes anywhere. Introductions are made. We all exchange names and I notice that Uruha raises his perfect arched eyebrows, scrutinizing you, trying to figure out whether you and your band are worthy of his time. “But you can call me Byou.” You say as you shake hands with Shou, then you shake mine and that same grin and blush cross my face. You look at me for a few moments, eyes sparkling, smile widening. “Isshi.” You say my name quietly, slowly, as if deep in thought. It’s the happiest moment of my life. Because I know that you remember everything. </div></div> | 
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
paige_nevaeh's journal![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankhappyp.gif){kind=small}
excited![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankscaredp.gif){kind=small}
anxious![[mood icon]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/ankgeekp.gif){kind=small}
accomplished![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/niaha/kitty/anktiredp.gif){kind=small}
tired