Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation, its characters, events etc.
Beta-reader: Tex-chan
Pairings: Ma-kun/Taki, K/Sakanou
Rating: PG-13 (changed rating because it doesn't get worse than the contents found in this chapter, really...)
Author's Notes: I realize, after having finished the first chapter... that it's hard keeping them in-character. Not to mention keeping the story on track. I'm not too happy with the end. It seems rushed (as usual) but don't let that stop you from reading on. And don't think I'm bashing Touma, 'cause that's entirely Taki's fault. His thoughts, not mine. Either way, beware language, tasteless zaniness and heavy OOCness. (Seriously, I really need to re-watch the whole series again...)
Also, I kinda made two certain blondes relatives. Don't ask me why. It was really a spur of the moment kinda thing. I needed something/someone to link the four together. Family relations made this possible as far as I'm concerned.
Special Thanks go to my wonderful beta-reader, friend and top-notch writer: Tex-chan! I love you for everything you've done for me so far! You rock girl! (Psst, check out her account right here on )

Words... - thoughts
"Bold words!" - Mr. K's perfect Engrish


FAMOUS OBSESSION

by Omakase Shimasu

Chapter 1: Ten Feet Under


The four beige walls were bare, except for an occasional piece of random art scattered here and there. The furniture was a rich, warm tone of ruddy, dark oak. The wood, polished to perfection, gleamed under the rays of the mid-autumn afternoon sun. A pack of Marlboro smokes lay off center on a small coffee table positioned in the middle of the spacious room. A red lighter and ashtray rested next to it.

A chirp. Birds chirped and flitted about a strong, tall tree outside the window. Brown leaves rustled and drifted to the ground as a weak breeze brushed by.

Inside, the silence stretched and grew, until it almost seemed like a living thing. A trail of grey-white smoke escaped the end of a burning white filter. A clock above the large oak door ticked away the seconds, then, the minutes, and, then, the hours, as Taki watched -- a quarter past three.

At the sudden sound of movement, Taki looked away from the clock and into the smiling, dark eyes of his 'companion'. Those eyes. Something within them gave him the creeps. He couldn't help but narrow his own eyes in reflex, afterwards, averting them from the man sitting opposite him, and putting the cigarette against his lips to cover his discomfort. Weakness. The end of the filter lit up for a second.

The older man looked on, never taking his eyes off him. Taki could feel the man's stare, but made it a point to ignore him, this place, this room. His thoughts went, unbidden, to a face with the very same eyes, that very same smile, golden-blond locks, pearly white teeth... The uncanny feeling only became stronger.

It had been 8 days since NG, or, rather, Seguchi Touma --- a devil in a golden-haired angel's disguise, had terminated ASK, severing all its ties to NG. There were no second chances, no questions asked, no possible way to make it back up with the help of others, no nothing.

Seguchi had power like no man could ever hope to acquire. And, thanks to that power, he had smeared Aizawa Taki's name through the dirt, a warning, a reminder to all who opposed him: don't mess with Seguchi Touma.

Touma had spared Ma-kun and Ken-chan, thankfully. They could still find jobs elsewhere. Without me... It was only Taki, after all, who had messed things up --- his rage at Shindo Shuichi, the hatred he had toward the pink-haired singer. He had only himself to blame --- not that slut Shindo, not the blond bastard writer, not even the devil creature that inhabited Seguchi's all-too-womanly body. And he hated it --- every fucking minute of it.

Taki knew that was exactly what Seguchi had been thinking. The smug man had visited him personally, at his own god-fucking-be-damned home, to rub it in his face --- the failure, the disgrace, the hold the power-magnate had over Taki. The conversation had been one-sided. The blonde devil's soft, pleasant voice had only added to the razor-edged reality of the words he had spoken. Once Seguchi had left, Taki was faced with two choices. Either one would brand his name with more shame, but, still, one stood out more than the other. So, he had chosen the lesser of the two evils.
That was the story behind his situation. How he, Aizawa Taki, former vocalist of the top ten list band, ASK, came to grace the couch of a psychiatrist, who never spoke a single word, save the pleasant greetings and farewells at the beginning and end of every session... who didn't push, yet made Taki sweat like only Seguchi's pleasant smile could.

After the blond had first come to him with the proposal, Taki had promised himself Seguchi could stuff his choices up his ass. No matter how much he hated the shrink smiling at him, he wouldn't break down and disgrace himself even more. Seguchi had no power over him here.

But the longer he sat here, cigarette held loosely between his lips, arms slung about one arm and back of the sofa and leg thrown over the other, the silence stretching off into eternity, he realized. Even now...

That smile. Those eyes. The walls. The furniture. The paintings. The room. Everything...

Seguchi was here, tormenting him, every step of the way.

His eyes widened in shock. A small tremor of his hand and the end of his cigarette, which had turned to ashes as the minutes had ticked by, fell, dirtying his black slacks. The clock struck four.

The door closed with a barely audible click. Or, maybe, the click had been loud enough in the empty hallway, but Taki just didn't want to hear. He stood there, just outside the room in which he had spent the last three hours. He'd barely registered Tamuro, his --- no... Seguchi's lapdog-shrink --- bidding him farewell. Seguchi. Seguchi Touma. Everything revolved around that man. Every time he thought about anything --- even something as simple as... as a fool glass of water... Seguchi was on his mind in an instant.

Taki absently leaned back against the door, careful enough not to make a sound. His fists were clenched, head down, mouth hurting from the way he forced teeth on teeth.

Silence.

His eyes strayed to the spot on his leg where the ashes had fallen. A dirty smudge of grey on pristine black. A little, sardonic smile pulled on his lips, and he closed his eyes. He could almost hear Seguchi's sweet tone of voice twisting the cruel words the blonde devil had spoken to him that day, beating him down ten feet under, as if it wasn't enough that he had lost his band, his dream, his only joy in life to that sick fuck. Now, he was nothing but a file in the looney bin's archives, nothing more than a failure in everyone's eyes, while he could have been so much more.

Trust Seguchi Touma to always make it worse, no matter how grim things looked. That fucking hypocrite.

Taki brought his right hand up to his face, pausing for a moment before allowing his head to drop into his palm.

If it wasn't for that writer, Yuki Eiri... If it had been anyone else, Touma wouldn't have lifted a finger, Taki knew that for a fact. Seguchi was a man who did things only for Seguchi --- and the man he loved.

The silence was deafening. He could hear it drumming in his ears. He had to get out. Out of the building. Now.

Indifferent mask in place, Taki brushed a hand through black locks, before shoving the clenched fist into his pants-pocket. His other hand hung limply at his side. Even though Seguchi forced him to see a shrink four days a week, it didn't mean he had to look any less dignified than he was before. Even though everything had been taken from him, Taki refused to be anything less than what he was. Is.

"A-Aizawa Taki. Aizawa-san!"

That voice. Taki stopped and turned, coming face-to-face with a familiar figure. Immaculate blue suit, polished black shoes, cheeks dusted with red --- the beginning of a blush --- big, brown eyes covered by owlish glasses, and black hair finished the thumbnail.

"Aizawa Taki," the man said, bowing. "We meet again."

"Really... I don't remember you." Unfortunately Taki forgot the bigger picture. The man seemed familiar, but the ex-singer couldn't place him.

The man looked up, the blush truly forming this time. A nervous smile formed, eyes turning apologetic. He stammered and blabbered --- a nervous habit. "I-I'm sorry, it has been quite some time since we last saw each other and even so, we didn't speak much what with all..."

As the words spilled out, Taki took the time to fit the pieces together into a complete puzzle. It didn't take as long as he had hoped. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew nothing good could come of the knowledge. "Seguchi." The name was something foul on his tongue. Once again...

The other stopped dead in his tracks. The big brown eyes widened, maybe because Taki had spat the name like that, or maybe because he hadn't thought Taki would come up with it on his own. Taki didn't know. Nor did he care. He wanted to get out, away from this building, this man Seguchi must have sent to check on him. Son of a...

"H-... hai. I am Sakanou," the man said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "Seguchi Touma is my superior and he sent me and--"

"Enough." Taki made sure his tone of voice didn't brook argument. He didn't want to hear another word. Not one, fucking word. "I don't want to hear another fucking word about that asshole--"

He turned sharply, but, before he could move further, someone grabbed him and shoved him harshly, back first against the wall. He quickly opened his eyes, pain forgotten as he warily focused on the barrel of a gun. Brown eyes widened, sweat breaking out as it registered in his brain. Shi--matta... This IS a psychiatric building, you dope! Involuntarily, his hands clasped the flat surface of the wall, seeking any kind of comfort from the cold concrete. But none was forthcoming.

"K-san! Yamete!" The man called Sakanou, Seguchi's lackey, apparently knew the gun-toting maniac. "You can't kill Aizawa-san! You heard what Kachou said!"

A shudder ran through Taki's body. Ka...chou? His eyes trained, almost automatically, on the owner of the magnum. Abnormally long hair for a man, pulled into a high ponytail, was the first thing Taki noticed. Ma-kun... so much like him... Slowly, his eyes traveled down, to chips of crispy, blue glass, further down, to a row of perfect, white teeth clenched around the edge of a cup. It was filled halfway with a dark liquid. Coffee. Spots of dark sludge were visible on the man's white dress-shirt.

The other hand, the one not wielding the magnum, which was still pointed at the space between Taki's eyes, held another cup, filled with the same dark liquid, almost up to the brim.

Taki gulped. Mr. K, huh... Why not M for Mr. Maniac?

More liquid escaped the first cup as the inhumanly tall man answered Sakanou, words being abused even as his eyes took a mad gleam to them. Taki was about ready to piss his pants.

"Honestly..." Sakanou sighed, before taking the cup from between the man's teeth. Tall, Blonde and Scary didn't waste a minute to repeat his words.

"He never said anything about not maiming him a little. What do you say, Sakanou?" K asked, in a tone of voice he might use if he was discussing what to order for dinner from the fast-food restaurant down the block. "He doesn't need... say, both arms to make it to the head-doctor's office." The magnum strayed lower and to the left.
Hearing that did not do his bladder any good, Taki decided. He robotically inched his arm out of the path of the magnum's aim.

"Honestly, K..." Sakanou repeated, as if chastising a naughty child. "Your ways and methods are far too crude. You're scaring the cr--" His big, brown eyes became bigger, if such a thing were possible, his cheeks seemed ready to explode. The calming hand he had put on the blonde's arm went rigid.

K's eyes transformed to comedic dots, before he turned, excited at Sakanou's uneasy state of well being. "Yes, yes, YES! Do continue, dear Sakanou, I would very much like to hear what you have to say!" He inched closer, nudging his shoulder to the shorter man's shoulder, his prey forgotten in this moment of unguarded Sakanou-ness. "Could it possibly be you were going to say, 'You're scaring the cra--"

"Creepers!" Sakanou burst out. His whole body seemed to liquefy, limbs seemingly having acquired a life of their own as they moved this way and that. Then, his mouth opened, like a floodgate. "Creepers, creepers is what I was going to say, how can you have had any doubt about it. Creepers! I would never consider ever using a crude word in conversation, that must all be in your mind, K-san. But what are we standing here for? Aizawa-san must be very tired after that intense session. I know I would be, after all--"

K, still with dots for eyes, stood by and watched as the squid-Sakanou blabbered on and on about everything and nothing. Since the tall blonde no longer held the weapon trained on him, Taki was about to protest that he did not need a babysitter on top of everything else, when another familiar figure entered the fray. And this one, Taki knew. Very well. "M-Ma-kun..." What a relief! God did exist, although Taki was sure He hated Taki's guts.

The older boy stood, hands on knees, heaving, panting, and sweating in the doorway. It almost seemed Ma-kun had run all the way from their apartment to this building. "Hey... Taki... Sorry, the car... 's in the garage... I took... the subway over... took longer than I... thought..."

Taki broke loose from the wall with one cautious look in K's direction.

Sakanou had returned to his own solid, lean self again. His face twisted into an expression of concern. "Ah, you seem exhausted." He walked over with his cup in hand. He put one hand on Ma-kun's back and offered the drink with the other. "Here. Something to drink."

"Thanks!" Ma-kun quickly drained the cup, only afterwards noticing who had offered it in the first place. He pointed a finger. "...you're Shindo's..."

A smile pulled at his lips, and Sakanou nodded. "I am Sakanou and this is--" He gestured to a frowning K.

"Matt? Is that you?"

Ma-kun's eyes widened, and, slowly, a grin, which reminded Sakanou, and even Taki, of the magnum-wielding American, appeared. Something took place, which neither Sakanou nor Taki understood, until Ma-kun burst.

"Uncle K!" With speed he hadn't possessed a moment ago, the young man bolted over to K, who had already made a start towards him. Soon, Ma-kun found himself in a headlock by the taller man, both laughing like idiots.

Sakanou and Taki were minor chibis in the background, blinking owlishly at the reunion of two blondes in the dark-haired population of 'modern' Japan.

To Be Continued

TAKI: Reduced to common background fodder. Just to think this story started out with me acting the part of local Drama Queen...
MA-KUN: What are you complaining about, Ta-chan? I was hardly in this chapter at all!
K: Are you insane, boy? Just look at what has been done to me! I have become a sadistic child... uh. And dear Sakanou seems to be able to control me and my weapon-swinging moods.
SAKANOU: ((nice enough not to complain about his character)) Hello, my name is Sakanou (no last name as of yet) and while I was once a producer, before that I was once a manager, I have now been reduced to title-explainer. I am not bitter however. Because I know I am a favorite, bad things will not happen to me. ((fidget)) I hope. Ahem, back to explaining. Ten Feet Under, as we all know; Taki-kun has done some bad things in the past, and Seguchi-sama has been sure to give him 'proper' punishment.
TAKI: Throwing me in front of a fucking car is proper punishment?! What the hell!
MA-KUN: ((hugs and pets him)) You wanna go home/to bed? XD
SAKANOU: Add the psychiatry sessions and the proper six feet have become ten feet. Under. I seem to have a liking to the word 'proper'.
K: ((wraps arms around him)) It reminds me of you, dear Sakanou. Cute and proper. And... noisy. D
SAKANOU: ((beetred)) K-san!
MA-KUN&K: XD Muwahahahahahahahaha!