Another long day gone by, like the rest--singing, dancing, spending time with his friends and fans--just another careless day. But he was tired now, not sleepy-tired or bored-tired, just tired. No, not tired, empty--as though some vital piece of his perfect life was missing, vanished, nonexistant; marring his otherwise pristine lifestyle.
He couldn't figure, though, how or what he lacked--he thought of and searched for and listed all he had and wanted, but nothing vital stood out. His perfect life--the life he always wanted, lacked something he couldn't name--something he never had.
Could his life be too perfect? Too perfect that it was imperfect? Was that possible? He always envisioned that a life consisting of singing would suffice, and it did, but still...he couldn't sing forever. Not every second of every day, and acting hadn't helped any more than singing to curb his wandering mind.
Acting--that dream had lasted shorter than he hoped; he loved it, but once the workday ended he found he couldn't keep the emptiness, the futility at bay. A huge void filled his heart and thoughts, he only ever satisfied his want of happiness--and that used to be enough. But he wanted more than self-fulfillment, especially after what he witnessed during his last week in America.
He closed his eyes and whimpered, sighed and felt a warm tear slip from his eye. He heard about it, but never comprehended the reality--never realized that it was something that actually happened. The shock of it--he couldn't overcome, and he hadn't even known the person who'd done it.
"How could...why would someone do that? To be so unhappy...that they..." He felt more tears slide down his cheeks, and his heart seemed heavy, consumed with grief, and he shivered from remembrance.
Flashback:
Sirens blarred, screams, a crowd of people flocking around the body--too late. Some looked up at the overpass where just seconds ago the man had been--where the man had jumped to the pavement below. Someone had called an ambulance and the police, both too late to save the poor stranger.
While, with a bandana tied around his brown hair and sunglasses over his cobalt eyes, Ryuuichi stared numbly at the scene, disbelieving what he saw.
How could someone do that? How could this be real? Why hadn't he realized?
He'd seen the man, had walked by him just minutes before on the overpass, enjoying the view and freedom of walking--and he didn't realize. Even when, after stopping at the end of the overpass to enjoy the view once more, he noticed the man climbing on the railing, it didn't click in his thoughts. It was surreal--all he did was stare, curiously at the man for a second, sensing something wrong, but unsure of what.
Then the next thing he knew, the man jumped.
Jumped--jumped off the railing, off the overpass to the pavement below; and he did nothing but stare, too numb, too distracted from reality to realize--it was real.
End Flashback
"How could someone do that? Why?" He pulled Kumagoro close to him, tears falling freely from his eyes, lips quivering, his words broken by sobs. 'Why didn't I realize? I could've stopped him...if I realized.' "Kumagoro, I was real stupid, I never believed people really did that, and I couldn't save him...because I was stupid."
He could've helped...that thought made the whole experience worse; he had been in running distance the whole time, and could've gotten to the man before he jumped, but...
He felt responsible, he didn't know the guy, but he felt guilty--especially after realizing that he had an exceptionally fortunate life while others...others were in pain enough to jump off bridges. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Why was he blessed with happiness while other lived unhappily and pained? How could he be so ignorant to not realize that everyone wasn't happy, that everyone wasn't living their dreams; that there were people out there so depressed they chose death over life?
It was wrong, wrong! He didn't have a right to be ignorant in luxury, oblivious to everyone else's suffering. Too many people did that already, the lack of any real news on the suicide he witnessed proved that. Even the obituary of the man failed to say how he died--it only said the death was unexpected.
Unexpected--bullshit, how could someone's pain go unnoticed 'til it reached the breaking point? The people closest to the person should've noticed--if they cared.
"Oh, god, what should I do? Kumagoro and I can't figure out what to do, I want to help...but how? How can I stop the suffering? How can I make everyone in the world happy?"
Silence was the only answer, and he fell fitfully asleep listening to the eerie quiet.
A/N I started writing this after a dream I had about something like this, will eventually be a Eiri/Ryuu fic.
