#time gap

No, this cannot be reality. This agony was not designed for me.

I traded my soul for authority and gold, Now every expensive room only feels cold.

Poison sits pretty inside of my chest, rotting my heartbeat, denying me rest.

I sign new contracts with trembling hands, While visions of you undo all my plans.

Your small frame. Those big beautiful eyes. The mole on your neck I memorized every time.

Your stomach beneath my wandering palms, your shoulder against me when life caused alarms.

The curve of your thighs. The warmth of your feet. The sound of your breathing half-asleep beside me.

I just wanna stay there forever instead, with my face in your lap and your fingers in my head.

Not here in these meetings with polished-up lies, where everybody smiles while something inside dies.

Father says I’ve come of age now. That I should have children somehow.

That I should find a nice rich wife, continue the bloodline, continue this life.

But what the fuck does he know about love? About ruining your soul for one person enough?

What does he know about shaking apart. Every single night from a shattered heart?

Everything hurts. Everything’s blue. Every damn road in this city leads back to you.

There are women around me lining up in gold, perfect last names, pretty and rouge.

They laugh at my jokes, they reach for my hand, their fathers already discussing demands.

And still —

I hover over your socials at four in the morning, like some pathetic ghost ignoring the warning.

You posted your coffee. You changed your hair. You smiled in a picture and I wasn’t there.

And him.

That fucking ex.

Is he still around? Does he still know your sound? Of your crying voice? Your sleepy replies?

Did he hold you gentler than I did at night? Was he better somehow? Tell me honestly now.

Did he love you better? Did he deserve you more? Was I just another disaster you survived before?

Because I cannot imagine a life where you’re gone. I swear to God something inside me went wrong.

That day was not how this story should end. You were my lover. My home. My best friend.

We were supposed to survive this. You were supposed to stay.

You were supposed to scream at me, cry at me, hate me — but stay.

And I know. I know. I know what I did. I played with your trust. I buried us both in my arrogance and lust.

Maybe you’re right not to answer my calls. Maybe I deserve every second this all mauls.

I loathe myself. God, I loathe myself sick. Every mirror reflects back a fraud and a prick.

What could I even offer you now? A broken man bowing to boardrooms somehow?

A man who had everything handed with ease. Yet still lost the only thing that let him breathe?

But those eyes. Fuck. Those eyes of yours still follow me home, still haunt every hallway no matter where I roam.

My voice cracked today mid-presentation speech. Numbers behind me. Markets in reach.

Everyone stared while my throat suddenly burned, because all I could think was whether you’d returned…

Home safely tonight. Whether you’re eating alright. Whether you still get nervous in rooms full of light.

Whether your hands still fidget when anxious or shy. Whether you still look at the moon every night.

And how badly did I hurt you? Tell me true. Is it beyond repair now, just like me too?

Will you ever forgive me? Will you answer again? Will I ever hear your voice say my name?

Will you laugh with me someday? Will you hold me once more? Or am I condemned to stand outside your door.

For the rest of my life with my heart in my hands, begging a ghost to still understand?

I don’t sleep anymore. I can’t. Every dream drags me back to your face, back to that look of betrayal and pain.

And every single night you leave me again, a million new ways, a million old ends.

I wake up choking. Sweating. Alone. Clawing through sheets in a king-sized home.

How could you do this to me? You loved me too, didn’t you?

Tell me that wasn’t fake. Tell me my touch still lingers somewhere in your veins.

Tell me you felt it whenever I kissed your skin. Tell me I wasn’t the only one ruined within.

Because you cannot convince me it meant nothing at all. Not the trembling.

Not the late-night calls. Not your heartbeat racing underneath my hand. Not the way you looked at me like I could still be a man worth loving.

So call me back.

Please.

Scream at me. Hate me. Hit me. Ruin me properly. But don’t leave me wandering endlessly.

The assistants keep talking. The shareholders grin. Someone pours champagne while I’m rotting within.

Another deal closes. Another award won. Another fake smile underneath the sun.

And still my mind returns to your bedroom light, Your socks on my floor from that Okinawa night.

The smell of your perfume still trapped in my coat. The final voicemail dying inside my throat.

I swear I’ll find you again. In this life or another. As strangers. As lovers. As nobody to each other.

I don’t care. I’ll crawl through every lifetime God creates for me.

I’ll beg destiny itself down on my knees. Because this cannot be all we were meant to be.

So tell me —

Is my pulse spiking again? Or is it your ghost underneath my skin?

Is this hope waking up? Or something far more grim?

Will any prayer answer me? Will any heaven let you in? Will your hands ever touch my face again?

Or will I spend the rest of my life As Satoru Gojo

Loved by the world, And abandoned by the only person who ever truly saw him?

Taglist: @myhellomi @bm8ilovesmut @hrt4hoon @juiceboxluvr @utterly-hoplessarenti @mashtura @aurorab-0-realis @eyrynx @@mywifehanji @ckilhj @zlinguss @pink127 @eri-itsuki @pandabiene5115 @beloved-yeosang @man1cslut @light-dust-blog @likstars @nooshie11037 @dazqa @in-aa @pridooodles @kitkat-13 @gorf333 @princess-saki1 @hijoliii @cinnamon7girl7 @rainlina @gidyuapp @erencvlt @bitchystudentninja

The stage opens with the narration of a writer about the New Earth years from now, and the asteroid which is on a collision course towards it. What we see acted out is part of the writer’s story. 

(continued from summary) Date had shown Kuroda some magic tricks and wowed both him and the audience, but confesses that the news they heard unsettles him more than just the thought of dying. His grandfather was a person who had super abilities (superpowers), but all he can do is multiply objects or change their position. He feels useless in the face of such imminent danger. 

Disappearing water magic trick where Date doubly tricks both Kuroda and the audience into thinking he drank the water. Both cups are empty of water (though he only drinks from his own cup).

A real burger from the picture trick 

Switching and multiplying objects trick 

Kuroda, who is pure of heart and a bit slow to catch up to things, reassures Date that his abilities are amazing already; he is so impressed by it! He is sure that Date can do anything if he puts his mind to it. Encouraged, Date tries to extend the same motivation towards Kuroda as well; he urges him to try something in entertainment if he’s interested in it, and when they meet again he would love to see Kuroda’s growth. They agree that a party will not happen now thanks to the sudden news, and plan to meet each other again in the next ten years. 

Date leaves a simple white flower on the windowsill as a marker, promising to give it to Kuroda after 10 years when they’ve both made something of themselves. Date is broke, and borrows some money from Kuroda, promising to repay him in ten years; though Kuroda is insistent that he can have the money. They shake hands and say goodbye. 

There is an interlude where we go back to the writer, now with his Editor (SuzuKen), who is obsessed with the colour white and ‘purity’. They have VR technology now which allows people to view each other’s imaginative worlds, and the editor uses it to delve into the world the writer has created. The editor gives a long monologue about the process of writing a story and his life (where SuzuKen fishes so, so, so many of the ad-lib lines and manages to form a coherent story -- kudos to his skill). They exit to give the characters space to resume. 

Editor SuzuKen with white mania 

10 years later, Kuroda and Date meet up again. Kuroda virtually hasn’t changed, he’s still stuck in high school, and hasn’t improved intellectually; but his heart is still pure and strong. 

Date however, has undergone a massive change. After the broadcast, he sought out the person who was spearheading the efforts to use super abilities to save the earth (named: Nakaya) in an attempt to do so as well. Certainly, he has accumulated more power, but he has killed people under Nakaya’s orders. He hates that the world is full of weak, ignorant people; people like Kuroda. He still performs a simple magic trick to return the money he borrowed to Kuroda despite his words. 

However, Kuroda manages to convince him that his actions though wrong, does not condemn him as a bad person. Kuroda believes that Date is a good and amazing person still. 

Nakaya appears, and Date is bent on killing him; but when Kuroda is placed in danger, Date sacrifices himself for him. Nakaya steals all his magic powers with a gun, and is about to defeat them, when the Editor chimes in. He suggests that the ‘pure of heart’ Kuroda be given the chance to defeat Nakaya, and enters the scene via VR to help the writer with this. It goes according to plan: Nakaya is defeated, but the asteroid is still on its way. 

Nakaya appears 

Kuroda making fun of Nakaya with 0 fear 

Date sacrifices himself for Kuroda 

Editor Intervention 

The first debris hit Earth, and Date takes a stand. He decides to absorb all the magic power from the gun which houses the stolen power of many other magicians to save the world, knowing that he will die in the process, but doesn’t tell Kuroda his plan. When Kuroda tries to stop him, Date says he’s only doing this because he wishes for Kuroda to live 10 years more. He promises Kuroda that they’ll see each other again in 10 years, with Kuroda saying he’ll be mad if Date doesn’t keep his promise. 

Date does one final simple magic trick, much to Kuroda’s awe with him saying “That’s it! That’s the type of amazing thing I wanted to see!”

Date transforms the white flower from the windowsill into a rose, bestowing it to Kuroda. He bids him goodbye, and urges Kuroda to sit still, reasoning: “I’m going to try to do something really amazing. The most amazing thing I’ve ever done. So if you see me do something amazing, then please give me a standing ovation.” 

Though he does not fully understand, a teary Kuroda nods and wishes him all the best. Date drapes a cloth over himself and disappears. Kuroda stands up slowly, clapping with all his might. 

BONUS BACKSTAGE PICS:

Suzuken: -praises AsaShin on a job well done, even better than rehearsal-