a/n:: Okay, this is a random oneshot for gravitation...i thought it'd be fun...and it deals with some depression stuff...like cutting and some language...but, idk, i dont think it's too terrible for you teens...lol. just stay away from my other stuff...XD yeah. So...i'm pretty sure i didn't destroy the show and manga (i've read/seen both, so if i screw something up, SORRY!!!) And yeah...i think that's it for now... hope you enjoy!!
He was doing it again. The silver blade felt right in his hand, like it was God's intentions for it to be there. The vision of Tachi flashing the camera momentarily blinded him, threatening to send his mind spinning worse than it already was. He thought everyone noticed the difference in his personalities, but even to him it was almost impossible to hide the change.
He came out of his thoughts as he moved the blade almost rhythmically, the sharpness not causing any pain at first. He like the feeling of the sharp blades better. That way, he couldn't feel what he was doing to himself. When the blood appeared, he could always make up excuses or a lie as to how the cuts had gotten there. With dull knives or even glass he could always feel what he was doing to himself, always causing him to feel guilty to some extent.
He figured Hiro and Yuki knew what he was doing, but he himself wasn't about to mention anything unless they said something first. And if they did have the courage to speak up, he wasn't going to deny it. It'd change their perfect vision of funny little Shuichi Shindou, and all he cared about was the pain, whether it be towards his friends, himself, or his wrists.
He dug the blade in once more, the beginning of the pain coming to him. It was a slight stinging, almost a buzzing. It grew sharper, the feeling indescribable. It didn't sting, it just...hurt. A lot. Enough to take his mind off of his life.
It was moments like these he was happy he lived in his own apartment. It was time like these he was happy he had taken a break from the band. It was times like these he was happy he and Yuki were mad and not speaking to each other. It was times like these where he needed a break from life. Even though his work life had put him into another one of his depressions, at home he was allowed to do whatever he wanted. He could express himself freely, especially through pain.
Shuichi finally grew dizzy, a line of red across his sight. The blade fell from his numb fingers, the pain blackening his mind. He forgot about Yuki slapping him. He forgot about Hiro threatening to quit the band. He forgot about the song lyrics he was supposed to write.
And most importantly, he forgot about Tachi and the gang rape...The night that through him into the dark corners of his mind.
He passed out, his body lying still as the blood seeped out of his upturned wrists, dripping onto the wood floor and creating puddles that eventually started soaking into his clothes.
When he next awoke, he felt sick, his muscles tight. He slowly opened his eyes, the sun shining on him, the blood now a dark maroon, close to black. And, there was a lot of it. He looked at his wrists, the blood now a solid, any movement painful. But this is what he wanted. The pain reminded him of what happened. The scars reminded him of who he was. He heard his cell phone start ringing, causing him to have to move. He stumbled, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. His sleeves were heavy and it was hard to think.
He finally found the ringing contraption in his kitchen, his vision momentarily blackening as he picked it up. "Hello?"
"Hey Shu, it's Hiro. Are you planning to do anything today?"
"Hiro! I'm writing the lyrics. Don't worry about it, please. I'll finish them."
"No, that's not what I was wondering about. And are you okay? You sound like you're tired and maybe hurting. Did Yuki do something to you?"
"No, Yuki didn't do anything. I haven't seen him for two days."
"Oh, well, okay I guess. But do you want to hang out today?"
That partially woke Shuichi up. "Wait—are you feeling okay, Hiro? You want to have fun outside of work? I don't understand. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"
"Good, you're beginning to get your personality back. I was about to ask what happened to you. You've seemed a little depressed lately. Reason?"
Shuichi gave a grim smile, even though no one could see it. "You know why. I'm just having some nightmares and my thoughts are really scattered right now."
"I can come over and hang with you if you want."
"Thanks Hiro, but no thanks. I have to clean up, and I don't know how long that'll take me."
"You've been cleaning up your house a lot lately. Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Positive. I'm going to go. I'll call you later though if I'm bored."
"AKA see you tomorrow."
"Most likely."
"Okay, well, talk to you later then."
"Bye." Shuichi hung up, sighing. He hated how he hadn't told Hiro about his cutting, but it always was a phase thing. It had been about two and a half months since the gang rape, but sometimes it felt like it had just happened. It had taken two weeks for him to get over it, which felt like forever since he was always a bouncy, happy-go-lucky person. If it hadn't been for Yuki though...Who knows what could have happened.
Yuki had come over to his place almost every night to take the blade away, often getting cut as well. But, he had helped Shuichi, and here he was today, wrists hurting, feeling like little glass shards were imbedded. I must have gone to deep. I'll have to be careful next time.
After those two weeks, it was roughly a week and a half before he slipped back into the depression, but only for three days. Since then, it had come off and on, hitting harder and harder. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this one. He didn't want to tell Hiro or Yuki, but tonight he'd probably crawl to the knife again when he couldn't write the song lyrics. If he didn't write the song lyrics in general, then he'd probably end up escaping outside and drowning himself with alcohol.
But if he did either, then Hiro or K would come and get him, and he didn't want them to see what he was doing, since K would most likely blow his head off. Well, I guess there's only one think I can do...As much as I don't want to...
He moved away from his counter, deciding to take a shower first before he started the lyrics. He went back into his room, heading towards the far end of his closet to where he hid all of his depression clothes. He picked a black long sleeve shirt with red thread and a skill on the front, the words "I'm having an off day" underneath. He picked out black almost-parachute pants, chains lining the legs. He thought it was amusing how different the clothing styles varied with his moods. Rarely anyone saw these clothes, which he was happy with.
He went into the bathroom and almost literally peeled off his shirt. Once he got a clear look at his arm, he cringed and wondered if he should go out and drink tonight instead of crawl back to his blade. Or, switch arms? He almost always cut his left arm, he guessed because he was right-handed and couldn't hold the blade as well in his left. He couldn't think of any other reason why, so he used that. The warm water on the cuts though made him cry out in renewed pain. The cuts reopened, the glossy red staining the white shower. Shuichi slid down the wall, tears coursing his face. Who am I anymore? He wondered. Why do I do this to myself? Do I just need the attention of others, or is my life really that bad?
He stayed sitting down until his arm stopped hurting, but pain flared up whenever he moved it. He slowly washed himself, still feeling dirty when he got out. He stared at himself in the mirror, his pink hair flat and looking redder, his purple eyes dark. He was white, and he had bags under his eyes. "Why am I tortured like this?" he asked his reflection, his movements looking slower than they should be. "Why doesn't anyone like me? Why can't Yuki accept me for who I am? Am I to much of a bother for him? He...He's like family...with Hiro. They're all I have."
Tears coursed out once more, and he was shaking. "What's happening to me?" he muttered, his vision growing dark. He sat down, unable to stop shaking. He couldn't see, and it was hard to breathe. Then, his phone started ringing. He didn't want to answer it, but his uninjured arm reached around the clothes near him. He picked it up, and unconsciously pressed the talk button. "H-Hello?" he gasped out, basically.
"Shuichi? Is that you?"
Yuki? He never calls me. "Yes. Why do you care? I thought you weren't talking to me. Am I not good enough? Well, I'm sorry I'm not up to your standards, so go fuck anyone else out there who doesn't give a shit about you, but only cares about your money!"
"Shuichi, are you okay? I could hang up at any time and let you deal with your own problems, but your friend called me and he sounded worried."
"Go away." Shuichi was rambling now, his words slurred slightly. "I have no place for you in my world or my heart, I'm sure there's others out there that care for me more than you ever will."
"Will you listen to me? I'm trying to show something towards you, like compassion, but you're the one who's being an asshole. And apparently you're not feeling okay. Are you in one of your depressions again?"
"That's what you would think, wouldn't you? You don't feel, you only use. I'm just easy, so I suppose it's my fault, huh?" His voice was cracking. Was he crying? He was rambling and didn't know how to just hang up the phone. His vision was black, and his mind was slipping away. "But, you called me, which is surprising. I didn't know you had my number. Of all the calls you ignored from me, why didn't I ignore this one from you? I don't know. I didn't even realize you were calling me."
"Shuichi! Get a hold of yourself! Apparently you're in one of your depressions. I'm coming over."
"You're on the clock, buddy. You better hurry up if you wanna make it on time." His voice was calm, dark. He hung up the phone, the only thought being on his knives. He slowly stood up, his vision dark, but not as bad. He could see the outline of his things, but he didn't need to see to pick up his knife and cut. It didn't take him very long to put on his clothes, but took him longer than he liked to stumble over to his bed. There was the pool of dried blood; that much was visible. He tried to kneel down to grab his knife, but more like collapsed.
He felt around for it, knowing it was around his general location. He sliced his finger—There it is!—and clumsily closed his hand around the hilt, bringing it towards him. He was basically daring Yuki to get there as fast as he could.
He sat up the best he could, leaning against the side of his bed. He pushed the sleeve of his right arm up, and started drawing the blade on the untouched canvas. The lines were deeper, rougher. He was letting his anger at Yuki out, showing the man what kind of pain he caused. The boy's vision was dark, his back propped up by the edge of the bed. He didn't need to see what kind of lines he was doing. He could feel the depth, the smoothness of the blade along his skin. He could tell how far he going, and could mostly tell how much skin hadn't been touched. He could feel the blood running down his arm, hear the splatters hit the ground. "This is for you, Yuki," he mumbled, tears coursing down his cheeks.
His arm was soon almost numb with pain, and he heard banging on the door. "Shuichi, open up! I know you're in there!" The door rattled as Yuki Eiri tried to open it.
"Heh, guess it's locked," Shuichi mumbled, his mind mostly gone.
He heard a loud thump, then again, again, and finally a fourth time, the door breaking open. "Shuichi! Where are you?"
"Take a guess," he muttered, now steadily sliding the blade over his arm, crossing over the fresh cuts.
Then, the blade was ripped out of his hand, stopping the cut he had been making. "Shuichi-kun... How could you... There's so much blood."
"Now I guess you see the pain you cause me, Yuki-san. There's never enough blood to shed, there needs to be more...more pain to cover up my scars..."
His face was gripped, but if he couldn't see, how was he to focus? "You need to sleep. I don't think you can even see me, let alone think straight. You probably haven't even eaten in the past couple of days by the color of your skin and eyes."
His face was released, and he heard soft footsteps heading away. He soon heard the water turn on in his bathroom, then shut off, footsteps coming back. Something cool was placed on his arm, soothing yet bringing the pain up again. "Sleep, Shuichi-kun. You need to rest. Your body needs to heal. I'll call your friend later, and he can help me clean up this mess."
"No—my mess. My life. No Hiro. No you. No one. Just me..." His words were slurred, voice light and almost breathy.
"Sleep Shuichi, sleep. You need it."
I can't...but...rest...Long rest. Darkness...dreams...
Reluctantly he did fall asleep, or in correct terms, pass out. Yuki stared at him, wondering how this turned out so bad.
-X-X-X-X-
"Nakano Hiroshi? This is Yuki Eiri. I need your help."
"Yuki-san? Why are you calling me?"
"It's about Shuichi."
"Now what? Is he okay? Did you do something to him?"
"I didn't do anything to him. But no, he's not okay. Or in the right state of mind."
"What's going on?"
"He's in one of his depressions again, and he was taking his anger out on himself. There's a huge mess, and I need some help cleaning it up as well as watching over him."
"I'll be right over...Is this one worse than the other times that we know of?"
"By far. The sooner you get here, the better."
"Got it."
Yuki hung up, sighing. He ran his hand through his hair, looking at the unconscious boy on his bed, his arms bandaged up. How could you do this to yourself Shuichi? You really are an actor, to have us fooled most of the time. Are you really suffering more than you let on? "You could be a character in one of my stories," he muttered aloud, deciding to look through the small apartment to find some cleaning supplies.
Hiro arrived as Yuki began cleaning, looking worried. Yuki met him at the door, making sure he couldn't see Shuichi. "Where is he? What happened?"
Yuki ignored the golden bangs that fell in his eyes, and looked at the man in front of him. "Don't do anything rash. It's not what Shuichi-kun needs right now. So calm down. He's in his room, unconscious. He was cutting again, and this by far is the worst I've seen. There's a lot of blood to clean up, and I just started. I'm going to need your help."
Hiro looked at him, a worried and angry expression on his face, with a touch of calmness trying to take over. The two went to clean up the mess, Hiro only shaking his head when he saw his friend. "How could you, Shuichi? I thought you were above and better than this."
Yuki kept silent, biting off the words he wanted to say. It wasn't Shuichi's fault, and Hiro probably knew that. But he was mad at Shuichi too, to a point. If you're feeling this low, you're supposed to go to the ones that care for you. That's what they're there for. And what he told Yuki stung too. He was rambling. He didn't mean any of that. I'm sure he won't even remember. But what if he did mean those words? People can be quite honest when they don't know what they're saying...Do I really mean that much to him, or nothing?
It took a like over an hour to clean the mess up, and lots of bleach. The two sat and watched their friend, thinking. "I don't think Shuichi's going to be allowed on any vacations anymore. Now that I think about it, there kinda is a pattern to when he left, for how long, and what he looked like when he came back." Hiro was looking at the ceiling, sounding like he was thinking out loud.
"I'm part of the reason, too. He would always go into these depressions after we had been fighting. He's a mischievous, hidden boy. Good at hiding what he does."
Hiro nodded then got up to cook something. "When he wakes up, he's going to eat whether he likes it or not. I think the last time he ate was at least three days ago. We went out to lunch—everyone in the band—and he only picked at his food. I suppose that was when he was at the beginning of his depression."
The tall redhead left, Yuki looking back at the superstar. He decided to check on the bandages, and sighed when he saw how bloody they were. He went and grabbed the medical kit out of the bathroom, looking around him. At first Shuichi had sold his apartment, but when the depression started after the gang rape—Yuki's anger flared—he must have bought another one. This one wasn't very decorative though. White walls, hidden closet, simple living items. But lots of bandages. Apparently Shuichi hurt himself more than Yuki guessed or knew of.
When Yuki undid the bandages, he noticed the blood was slowing down. He cleaned it up, then rewrapped them, looking at Shuichi's clothes. They looked hardly worn, and it was a new style to him. He got up, the skull and "I'm having an off day," sticking in his head. We're all having an off day, he thought, opening the closet door. There were the boy's normal clothes, but...further on, it was all black, some red here and there. All were Goth-style, and he even found an assortment of blades.
"Now, this is interesting. I wonder how much these cost?" The blades were a dark red almost matching the color of blood. The hilt was many colors, Yuki guessing oil based. There weren't any fingerprints but small smudges defied that they hadn't been used. There were four in the set, and all had a little dragonfly near the top. "Hiro-san!" he called, still looking at the knives.
"One minute! This'll burn if I leave it."
Yuki placed the set on the ground, and continued looking, finding two more sets, almost alike. One set had emerald green blades and the oil based hilt, while the third set had a deep ocean blue blade, with the oil based hilt. As Yuki set the blue case down, the white dragonfly standing out, Hiro came in, his eyes widening at the sight of the knives. "Oh, wow," he said, awing them. "Those had to cost a couple of paychecks, at least."
Yuki nodded. "Did you know about any of this? There are a lot of dark clothes, and there's these knife sets. And he has extra bandages stored up here too."
Hiro shook his head. "I didn't know about any of this. It makes you wonder if he was at it before his depression."
"I don't think so, because remember, he was/is living with me. But they all have small smudges on them, so that shows they've been used at least once. Other than that though, they're clean."
Hiro picked up the blue set, looking at them closely. "They're gorgeous though. They should be on display, not hidden. But they also shouldn't be used like they are either."
Yuki agreed, turning back around to continue looking in the closet. A couple of seconds later he heard a slight yell from behind him, and then a crashing... Then he was falling to the ground with Hiro... He hit his head and shoulders on the wood flooring, his head stinging in the back, stars in front of his eyes. Hiro was lying on Yuki's legs, groaning. He looked over and saw Shuichi, kneeling behind Hiro. "Get away from my stuff," the pink-haired boy said.
Yuki saw that Shuichi had the same empty look in his eyes he had earlier. "Shindou-san, wake up. It's only Hiro and I. Don't make me hurt you."
"You'd love the hurt me, to get my bothersome life out of yours. Of all the times you've kicked me out, you wished you could do more. You wished I was never there, that you did hit me with your car that night. Don't you!?"
"Where are you getting these thoughts from? I'm glad I didn't hit you that night. And I rarely kick you out. If I do, I'm only wishing for silence. I'm not angry at you; I hardly ever am. When we fight, I'm only annoyed, and I wish sometimes that you'd grow up and I'd become looser, like you and Hiro. But if you want to see me mad, just wait a couple of minutes and continue acting like you are." Yuki kept his voice firm. He should show Shuichi some care, but his own annoyance won.
Shuichi stared at him, eyes hard. "You're full of bullshit and lies."
Yuki sat up, angry now, and full on slapped Shuichi, the purple eyes glazing over before he fell over, eyes closing. Hiro sat up, catching the pink-haired singer. He stared at him for a second before turning to Yuki. "Why did you do that?"
Yuki began to stand up, kicking Hiro off of him basically. "He needed a wake-up call. Put him back to bed please. I'll put this away, and then I'm out of here."
Hiro only watched him, Yuki ignoring his glares. As Yuki finished putting everything away, Hiro finally moved. "Yuki, you should be here for him. He needs you. I don't think you needed to slap him that hard though."
"I've heard enough. He says he doesn't need me, and thinks that I don't want him. Well, he has his wish."
"He's delirious. He won't remember any of this."
Yuki stared at him, debating what to say. "Well, if he doesn't remember anything, he'll know where to find me. If he does remember, he'll know why I'm not speaking to him."
Yuki's golden eyes met cool gray ones, both hard, before Hiro broke into a grin. "Okay. It's good to know you do like him at least. If you didn't like him, you wouldn't be mad at him. I understand though. I'll finish taking care of him."
Yuki nodded, and as he was leaving, he paused at the door, saying, "He really doesn't deserve a friend such as you. He's a lot luckier than he thinks. As for me... He's just lucky he has a different shoulder to cry on. I do listen, but it's hard to get used to.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Hiro watched Yuki leave, a smile still on his face. He looked back to his best friend, the boy he had basically grown up with. Shuichi had pale skin, and almost a lack of being on his face. Hiro sighed though, and lifted the light frame. He set Shuichi on the bed, and went back to the closet to look for something that wasn't as heavy. The act of friendship was almost a routine for him, especially for all of those drunken nights where the guy would have some reason to drink more than he ever needed.
Hiro finally chose a black tank top and black shorts, heading back over to his friend. He saw he'd also have to change the bandages. He slowly and carefully undressed his friend, putting on the more suitable resting garments. When he was done, he set the dark clothes next to the closet, instead of back where they should have gone. If Shuichi didn't remember, he didn't want to answer how he had known where the clothes were supposed to go, and if the boy did remember, Hiro didn't want to look too much like a snoop.
Sighing, Hiro changed the bloody bandages, Yuki's words ringing through his head. "He doesn't deserve a friend such as you. He's a lot luckier than he knows..."
"It's true though. We've done a lot of shit with and for each other, but in the end, I was always there for you. I don't understand either how you managed to end up with two great people. You are a lucky person, Shuichi Shindou." Hiro looked at his almost-brother, a sad smile on his face. The bandages were changed, and now Shuichi looked more normal. All he needed was that childish grin and everything would be okay. "Except for breakfast/lunch-whatever…That's ruined."
He walked into the kitchen to at least begin eating the food he prepared. He knew Shuichi would appreciate the leftovers. The rest of the time though was silent. Hiro listened to some music that Shuichi had, and talked a little bit to Ayaka. He took a little nap on the couch, and cooked dinner once the time rolled around. He sighed, wondering when the boy would awake. I suppose it is a good thing he's sleeping though. Maybe he'll be more normal when he wakes up...and hungry.
At nine o'clock, he got his wish, even though it was three hours later. Shuichi stumbled out of the room to find Hiro reading a guitar magazine. "You're awake!" Hiro said, smiling. "How do you feel?"
Shuichi looked like he had a guarded look on his face, his skin white. "How long have you been here?"
"All day. Yuki actually called me over this morning."
Shuichi looked down, Hiro wondering if the pink-haired guy was deciding how to respond to that. "I don't really remember anything... Just...pain and that I was annoyed. And angry."
"It's okay. Just...be more careful in the future." Shuichi looked at his arms. "Yeah, that too. If you're ever feeling upset, just let us know. Us as in everyone... I don't know about K though. Just ignore him." Shuichi gave a weak smile. "Sit down. I'll get you something to eat.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-
Oh no...Hiro's going to ask...I don't want to answer any questions, Shuichi thought as he sat down in a chair. He watched Hiro leave the room, then pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around them the best he could. He remembered cutting them, but he couldn't remember why he attacked his right arm. He thought it was because of Yuki, but that didn't make any sense.
His mind was in pieces, images of what happened earlier drifting across his mind here and there. A bunch of it was dark though, which he was happy with. He looked up at Hiro as he came back in, carrying a plate of warm food. The sight of it made his appetite go away, even though the smell was enticing to his weak body. Maybe he could procrastinate eating it. He knew the food was a diversion to the questions to come.
Hiro set the plate down—fish, carrots, and rice—and looked at Shuichi, who just stared at the food. "Come on, eat. Your face is white, you're shaking, you haven't eaten for a couple of days, and your body needs to make up for the blood that was lost. If you're not careful, your body will eat itself from the inside out."
That gave a little motivation for him to eat, since he knew it was true. He looked at Hiro for a second, then back at the food before reaching a shaky hand out and grabbing the fork, slowly eating the food. Hiro just watched him, not saying anything until he was done. Shuichi did feel better, but he didn't want to answer any questions. But, he had to when Hiro opened his mouth. "Shuichi, I know you won't like me asking this, but you must answer. How long have you been cutting yourself?"
Shuichi felt tears start coming out of his eyes, as he pulled himself into a tight ball, despite his protesting arms. "It—it varies. Probably two nights or so every week and a half to two weeks for the past two, almost three months. Ever since that one night. The depression is usually for a couple of days, but each time is harder to pull out of. The cuts are deeper, faster...It was like trying to pull myself out of a whirlpool. I could barely do it. I guess this time was one of the worst. I'm sorry."
He was crying now, his voice thick. Hiro was going to call him an idiot and walk out, telling him to find someone else to complain to while shaking his head. Yuki was never going to come back once he found out about his problems. He would think that Shuichi was too much of a baby if he couldn't handle his own problems.
What surprised Shuichi though was Hiro's comforting hug. "Don't bother. I know you hate me. You're only faking it," Shuichi said harshly.
"Shuichi, I'm your friend. I care about you. I care what happens in your life, so don't ever hide anything please. Without you, my life would be so ordinary I wouldn't be able to live with the boredom. And Yuki's with you too. He's a little mad right now, but he'll be happy once he hears you're okay. We're all here for you, bud. Don't ever worry."
That only made Shuichi cry harder, Hiro holding him. Finally, when he calmed down, he said "I still have to write a song."
"Oh, yeah. Well, don't worry. We can figure something out later."
"No, I want to do it now. Is it okay if it isn't as happy-bouncy as our other songs? I mean, it can still be upbeat, but...I think people will and can relate to it."
The purple eyes met grey ones, Hiro smiling. "Of course. If it doesn't work out, I'm sure I can persuade everyone to be for it, with Yuki's help."
Shuichi smiled, words flooding his head. Hiro let go of him, the boy getting up and heading to his desk across the room, pulling out paper. He started writing lines, slowly pulling them together. It took him a couple of tries, but when it fell together, he smiled, the words perfect.
"Hiro, I think I finished it. Does this work? I think we can make it work..."
It sometimes hurts to bleed this much
Cringing from everyone's touch
How can this happen to me?
When this action takes a hold again
I have nothing to defend.
This is me forever
Why can't you see that?
I can't always help the way I feel
It's the way I am.
Falling, falling, falling...
I was scared, oh so scared
I didn't think you ever cared
For someone such as me.
I didn't feel anything at all
I didn't even feel myself fall.
This is me forever
Why can't you see that?
I can't always help the way I feel
It's the way I am.
Drowning, drowning, drowning...
Is my life able to be saved?
I hate being afraid
Will you be there for me?
You imitator, go away, go away
I'll never listen to what you say.
This is me forever
Why can't you see that?
I can't always help the way I feel
It's the way I am.
Reaching, reaching, reaching...
Every day is so so bright
How can it hold such terrible fright?
This is the new me.
Burn everything that is old
Show me nothing that is cold.
This is me forever
Why can't you see that?
I can't always help the way I feel
It's the way I am.
Breathing, breathing, breathing...
Hiro set it down, Shuichi staring at a scratch in the desk. "That's pretty good. Definitely different, but I think we can have some fun with this, while get the meaning across. The last chorus—does that mean you're going to come to Yuki and me when you're upset?"'
Shuichi fidgeted and sighed. "Yeah. It's going to be a little odd for me though. I'm used to trusting myself...I'll try though."
Hiro hugged him again, smiling. "Good. Yuki will be happy as well."
Shuichi smiled, still a hint of sadness in his face, but it was disappearing. With time...everything will be fine.
a/n...again...:: well, yes, another short note. It wasn't really working out to have Yuki be his grumpy normal self, so i was making him more caring...sorta. so yea...and I own that song XD lol. it's probly not that good though. And the name of it is This Is Me. Hence the name of the story...hehe. But I write stories, very little poetry, and no songs. just how i work. so i think that's it, and i ask for reviews!!! Any will work...especially for if the song is good or not...does not matter. '