The ballad of the flying bird

This piece means a lot to me personally. I wrote and wrote. I wrote down everything that moved me, that made me desperate. I wrote and my tears dripped onto the paper, causing the ink to melt. I wrote and the piano accompanied me on this journey.

While I was crying and writing, I heard "Without you" by Yoshiki for hide ... A song that has always moved me to tears, but it made a nasty mixture with what I wrote. When I copied it out again with the PC, I kept crying incessantly and finally I was shocked to find that "Without you" had shaped me terribly on this piece. Because it reminds me of hide's fate, which makes me cry again, so that my eyes are now red and puffy and ache, ache like my heart, that Tori, who never existed, mourns and sheds tears because of hide, the will never return, but has left so much behind, so much that reminds me of him ... maaah ... I'm going to hide in my dungeon ... And hear "Wihtout you", as well as other songs by X Japan and hide TT__TT (I miss him so ...)***

Ballad of the flying bird

Strangely composed, I reach for my suit, almost with exaggerated care tying my black bow tie.
Outside the sun is shining ironically. It burns my irritated eyes and I can't bear to look up. Up to you.
My fingers slide over the soft, black fabric and I can feel the crackling paper in my pockets. The notes for my speech. My speech for you. Your memorial service.
As I walk down the hall to the front door, my gaze wanders over every single photo and I turn them over one by one. I don't want to see you now like you're still there. You're gone, that's all. Everything that fills me now
On the way to the town hall, I try to suppress all thoughts of what is to come. Lots of people will be there, lots of people who knew you but never had the opportunity to come face to face with them.
"That's just how it is when you're famous and on stage."You said back then. Back then, that sounds so incredibly far away and far away. I can see your big grin in front of me, as if you had said it yesterday, not almost a year ago. We had far too short a time together.
It's hard to find a parking space with all the cars, but at least the journalists are considerate and don't attack me.
When I enter the hall, I want to turn back again. So many looks that rest on me and show what I'm trying so hard to hide: grief, pain, suffering, traces of shock, worn-out minds that have not yet understood that you will not return.
I walk in silence down the aisle past the rows of benches, nodding here and there and shaking a few hands from people I have never seen before.
Our team is right at the front, and there is still one free space for me. It's a strange feeling to see only four friends instead of five. Momo, Jesse, Hoshi and Shiro, but where are you?Without saying a word, I let myself fall into their midst. I can feel Hoshi's worried look and I know for a fact that Momo's cheeks are still damp from the tears he had furtively wiped away when I came in.
Upstairs on the stage is my black piano surrounded by a number of white orchids, your favorite flowers, and photos of you are there, too, but also some of our band's shootings and live acts. The microphone is right in the middle. The mic you've sung on so often. Even the candle in the stand that you attached to the microphone yourself is lit. The little flame flickers quietly. You would have liked the stage. But this time it's me who will stand up there and talk to Mirko ...
Shiro nudges me in the side and nods up to the stage. Nobody told me that the first thing to do would be to give my address.
Suddenly my heart starts racing. I get up, unusually slowly. Momo and Jesse squeeze my hand as if to tell me I'm not alone.I relax a little. I don't know why myself.
As I climb the stairs to the stage, I'm wondering whether I should get my notes out. You would have made it that way too, Tori, but I'm not you. And without you everything is so unusual, so new. Without you.
The DVD that you made and put together is already running and you smile down from the big screen as if you want to encourage me. No, I don't need my notes.
"Now it's your turn," Tori once said to me, not that long ago, three months ago, at a concert. I was supposed to unexpectedly play a piece on the piano that I had actually written just for him wasn't prepared for it, but he just grinned and said: 'Now it's your turn'. "I hear my voice shaking. Behind me there are pictures and videos of and with you on the screen. "Back then I took his words as seriously as they do now, even if they were mean three months ago.Tori had always been so spontaneous. Twelve years ago he suddenly stood in front of my door in the evening, grinned at me and said: `Yuki, I want to start a band. I sing and you play the piano. We rock Japan! ´ When I asked which rock band was touring the area with a singer and pianist, he just waved it off. `It`s okay´, was his opinion. And that evening we brought Jesse, Shiro and Hoshi into the band. From then on we had a drummer who played the violin, a bassist with a talent for the flute and a bassist who had a fondness for the violin. And before anyone could say anything about it, we were `rôsaku no hikari´. `A bit cheesy, you plum! ´ Jesse snorted, but Tori thought his suggestion was great.
After some initial difficulties, our first album came out. It sold out amazingly quickly. On September 16, 1995, Tori came into the studio with a boy who was a class below us. That was our momo.He became our second guitarist, but his secret passion was the double bass.
Tori had been looking for strange guys for his band, but we got famous and had a steep career. We actually rocked Japan and won fans, even though we were simple high school boys from a music school. We went through crazy things together. When one was down and cheered up again, doubts gnawed at the next as our plates went over the counter. Within half a year we had sold 1 million CDs. People loved us. Momo because of his youthful manner, next to him we always felt very old; Jesse for his urge to be daring and badass on the drums; Hoshi for his angelic face and the teddy eyes that softened everyone, even Jesse; Shiro because of his calm manner with which he took everything calmly - "" And you, because you enchant people's hearts with your piano and reproduce the perfect team with Tori.", Momo calls in between and I finally look into the audience. Everyone's staring at me. At the moment I feel insecure. What am I actually doing here? I'm not a good speaker. You were always so skilled with words, but now I have to stand here I stutter when I keep talking:
"And we loved Tori, we all ... Because he was carefree. He accepted everything with a smile. I never saw him sad, not even then ... when we played ballads that were serious ... included death, or as his Grandfather died who gave us our equipment. He always tried to see the positive in everything, and when there wasn't any of it, he just did positive. When he wrote bad lyrics, he used it as a cheer read it aloud or sang it, but so silly that we laughed, and then he wrote a new one.
I know that many here are sad. Probably all of them. I as well.I knew Tori for 21 years. Some of them maybe only half as much. Back when I moved in with my family next to him, he immediately ran over to me and asked straight away if we wanted to be friends. We were both seven and when I said yes, the matter was settled. This has turned into 21 years. Otherwise it sounds like an eternity, but now, without him, an eternity is not enough for me.
The days without him are sad and I miss my best friend. I know he would have tried to comfort me, tried a fresh start, made something good of it, but he's not there and I don't know how to help myself. I want to wake up knowing that I'll see him later. In the café, in the park, in the studio, but he's not there. All I have are photos, videos and my memories. "I feel that I am crying and my hands are shaking. The candle in front of the microphone continues to flicker, but I can hear sobs from the audience.And suddenly I realize: I am not alone.
There, right in front of me, there are people who are just like me. I see Shiro, Jesse, Hoshi and Momo through my veil of tears. I see my friends who miss Tori as much as I do. "I don't think he committed suicide. His death wasn't an accident either. Tori wasn't a person who needed suicide as a way out. He's no longer there and we shouldn't mourn why. I trusted him and I do." He alone knows why, but I don't want to know. I know it sounds tough, but he never really thought about why. He took everything as it came.
I don't want to accept his death. He was like my brother. He was a part of me and now there is a gap in me that only he can fill. But he's not there.
Without him ... Without Tori ... These words don't fit my life. Tori ... our bird. He called himself that because he admires birds for their freedom, that they can fly so high and as far and wherever they want.I hope for you that you now have wings with which you give heaven as much joy with your angelic voice as you did for us down here. Back then, at the concert three months ago, I played a song for you that you loved. The first time you heard it made you cry. You said that the 'melody of tearful laughter' was my most beautiful work. I think I have something for you that will make you cry again, like me when I wrote it. It's not perfect, your singing, your voice is missing, but I hope you hear it up there, where you are now flying.
'The Flying Bird's Ballad' is just for you, Tori. Only for you.
I miss you, I wish I could hug you again, see your smile, hear your voice. But it just remains for me to quote you, repeat what you said yourself, so that I sit down and let my fingers slide over the keys.And I ask you, Hoshi, Shiro, Momo and Jesse to come with me. Your instruments are there. Please play with me. For Tori. In his words. `Now it's your