My first try at Gravi fiction! Yay!
This will eventually be romance… but at this point… well read and see, okies?
R&R… I want at least 5 reviews before I post chapter 2, which has already been completed. I want to see if you guys actually enjoy this first.
Disclaimer: I own nothing… but I wouldn't mine owning K or Hiro…or Ryuichi…
K watched critically as his charges worked through Rage Beat. Shuichi's vocals and Suguru's playing were dead on. They both sounded absolutely amazing today, never better. However, both K and Sakano had noticed that Hiroshi was severely lacking in his guitar melodies, and had missed all his singing cues. That explained why the group was now going through Rage Beat for the fifteenth time today
"Okay!" K shouted in English once they had finished their current set, but switching back to Japanese before he continued, "That's enough practice for today."
Sakano's eyes bugged right out of his glasses. "B-but… K-san! There is a concert next week!"
"Fortunately, it's not been announced yet, because at this point," K shot a sharp glance at Hiroshi. "We are no where close to being performance ready."
Sakano promptly transformed into tornado-mode, screamed like a banshee… and fainted. Meanwhile Shuichi was beaming at the 'good' news, and Sugaru was nodding thoughtfully.
"Now I can visit Yuuuuukiiii!" Shuichi cried happily, zooming out of the room in chibi-form. "Ja ne minna!"
"I have a lot of school work that has been lacking the attention it needs," Sugaru stated as he left. "I hope that tomorrow's practice will be more productive."
Bad Luck's guitarist visibly deflated at the younger boy's sharp comment.
"Nakano-san," K pressed the barrel of his gun to Hiroshi's left temple. "What is your excuse for performing so badly?"
"Gomen nasai, K-sama," Hiroshi replied politely, and letting out a light sigh. "I've been… Ill recently."
K released the safety of his gun, responding in English. "Strike One! Try again!"
"N-nani?"
"Be more speci—" K stated firmly, stopping short as Hiro pressed a shaking hand to his forehead, gripping tightly to his manager's arm. "Hiro-kun?"
Hiro didn't reply, and K quickly replaced his gun in its holster. He gently lowered the fragile teen into a convenient chair.
"Hiro-kun?" K asked again, attempting to pry his arm from the guitarist's tight grip.
"I'm fine." Hiroshi stated weakly, slumping back into the cushioning of the chair.
"No. You're not," K stated firmly. "Tell me what is wrong with you Nakano-san."
"It's nothing." Hiro replied, lighting a cigarette. "I just haven't been sleeping very well recently."
K stared directly into Hiroshi's bloodshot grey eyes, causing the teenager to turn his head away after a few moments.
"You're not telling me something."
Hiroshi's eyes shot quickly back to his manager's, "There is nothing worth telling you K-san."
K frowned thoughtfully at the boy before him. Hiroshi looked incredibly frail just sitting there, long red bangs falling forward to cloak his eyes as he puffed lethargically on the cigarette dangling from his lips. The tall blond wondered how Hiroshi could even attempt to shrug off his near fainting spell. If K hadn't been there to steady him, Bad Luck's guitarist would most likely be lying unconscious on the floor of the studio.
"Well hurry and pack away your guitar so that I can take you home."
"Nani?"
"You obviously need rest, and I can't trust you on your motorcycle because you'd most likely pass out and crash, breaking your skull and thereby ruining any chance that Bad Luck has at surpassing Nittle Grasper. Like Shuichi said, they don't have a guitarist, so losing ours to a freak accident won't exactly help our album sales." K pointed out, trying to get Hiroshi to laugh.
His plan didn't work.
Hiroshi carefully placed his guitar in its case, placing it in its usual spot and standing slowly to avoid dizziness. He carefully brushed past K and towards the door.
"I will be fine to get home on my own, K-san."
"I don't think you quite understand Hiro-kun," K stated, gripping Hiroshi's shoulder tightly—hard enough to bruise, spinning him around and placing the gun against the red-head's temple once again. "You don't have a choice in the matter."
"Who am I to argue with a crazy Gaijin (1) manager?"
"We're here!" K announced jovially as he pulled the deep red Ferrari into the parking lot behind Hiroshi's apartment building.
K glanced over at the passenger seat to gauge Hiroshi's reaction to having his manager about to enter his home, only to find that the boy had dozed off during the trip. He was slumped awkwardly in his seat and would fall over when the door was opened. K sighed, turned off his 'baby' and walked around to the passenger seat. He yanked open the door—ensuring that Hiroshi did not 'splat' on the ground—and began rooting through his pockets for a key.
"Aha!" K pulled the keys (and there were a lot of them: house, bike, bike lock, guitar case, mailbox, a tiny one that looked like it would fit into a journal, and another small one that K couldn't identify, and a key chain with the emblem of a red ribbon on it) from the red-head's left jacket pocket.
He carefully undid the seatbelt, scooped the slight man into his arms, locked the car door, entered the foyer of the apartment building [insert odd look from doorman], entered the elevator, passed by an old woman who was heading out for bingo [insert even stranger look], unlocked the apartment door—that was tricky, and deposited the young man into his bed all without waking him.
Trouble Sleeping? K thought to himself suspiciously. More like trouble not sleeping.
The blond pulled off the thin boy's shoes and dropped a quilt over him before giving himself a tour of the small apartment. He was finished in about 20 seconds and feeling incredibly bored. He juggled the keys still in his hand, being amused be the soft clinking sound.
I'm as bad as Ryuichi.
In his boredom he decided to make a game of figuring out what the keys he could not identify were used for. That's what he told himself.
I'm not being a snoop. Really…
There was nothing to unlock in the 'kitchen' (which was really just a corner of the main room). K was concerned however by the serious lack of food in the fridge and cupboards; apples, bread. butter….and cigarettes? K made a mental note to speak to the guitarist about his diet (or lack thereof) and left the kitchen.
The living room was, in a word, creepy. It was too freaking clean to be home to a teenage rock star. There was no dust anywhere, everything was in its proper place, and nothing was crowded or stuffed away messily. No empty pizza boxes, or crushed soda and beer cans. No clothes strewn about haphazardly. Nothing! The only indication that Hiroshi—or anyone for that matter—inhabited the tidy little box was the ashtray full of cigarette butts. It seemed as though the enigmatic guitarist was a bit of a chain smoker when he was alone.
K snickered, He's like a nice, red-headed Yuki… how odd…
K gave up on the living room and wandered into the bathroom. It, like the living room and kitchen, was sparkling clean and sparse of any personal ornamentation. Bad Luck's manager felt a pang of sympathy for the slumbering red head.
It's no wonder he puts up with Shuichi, he's the only bit of colour in this bland little life.
K was about to leave the bathroom as well when he spotted a small shiny thing to the right of the mirror over the sink.
It was a lock!
K was surprised, why would Hiroshi feel the need to lock a cabinet when he lived alone? Maybe it was because Shuichi stayed over so often…or perhaps it was where he kept his valuables?
K couldn't take the curiosity any longer and roughly shoved the smallest key into the lock and twisted it with a satisfying 'pop.' The door slowly opened to reveal….
Toothpaste, acne cream, and a dozen bottles of medication.
K carefully regarded each bottle, hoping for a clue to Hiroshi's sudden and mysterious ailment:
· Extra-strength Sleeping Tablets
· Over the counter Vitamins
· Prescription Vitamins
· Tylenol
· Advil
· Buckley's Cough and Cold
· Pepto Bismal
· Claritin
· Dimetapp (grape flavored… not that it mattered. It would taste like chalk no matter what.)
· Vaporub
· Triziver
· Sustiva
K carefully read the descriptions of the last two bottles:
Triziver:
Tokyo General Hospital555-1321
KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN
Nakano Hiroshi
300mg tablets
Ingest every 12 hours with water.
Dr. J Kido
Sustiva:
Tokyo General Hospital555-1321
KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN
Nakano Hiroshi
600mg tablets
Ingest every 24 hours with or w/o water
Dr. J Kido
What the hell? K thought to himself. Where have I heard of these before?
[(1) Gaijin is a rude term for someone who is not of Japanese Heritage… In most cases Hiro would never say such a thing… in most cases Hiro would not be this out of character either, but strange circumstances cause strange reactions]