-Levity-

Author's Notes: Hey! Okay, I've got the bug now, so I'm gonna try and ride this desire to pump out fanfiction for as long as it lasts! Number one, I have no idea where I'm going with this story, so I apologize if any concrete plot development eludes you all for a while. I'll try to mold it as I go. Number two, a big THANK YOU to all of those who took the time to read, and review my first fic. You were all very kind. Don't be afraid to criticize me though! I want the full fanfic writer experience, and that includes flames!

This actually picks up right after my first fic, 'Work Space' but there was no actual plot in that one, so you can either read it or not, as you choose.

Okay, I think that's all I have to say. Here we go then...

Setting: Post manga. For those of you following the genzo tracks, kindly disregard those for the sake of my story, or just consider this AU. Thanks.

Rated: M, for language, and eventual adult situations. I'd like to try my hand at those er...'lemons' I believe they're called? -bats eyelashes innocently-

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation.

Pairings: Shu/Yuki; Hiro/Ayaka; Suguru?; Ryuichi?

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Chapter One

- Special Edition -

"What are we gonna do today, Yuki?" I ask, taking another precarious bite of my strawberry crunch bar, careful to keep the chilled vanilla from hitting my teeth. He doesn't answer, because he's found the channel he was looking for. I recognize the decrepit old broadcaster behind the plain desk, and bland white checked back drop, as well as the words scrolling down the left corner with late breaking news.

I don't recognize the older, slightly frumpy gentleman sitting beside the broadcaster, though. I'm not really paying attention, but I am able to divine that Yuki, as well as the two or three dozen completely boring citizens of Japan that care, have tuned in to witness an interview of the novelist Uruha Kato Sensei. In the seconds that pass as the interview begins I notice several things. One, the man asking the questions has copious amounts of hair growing out of his ears, and speaks veeeeerrrry, veeeeerrrryy, slowly, interjecting the word 'ano' here and there to fill up the unnecessary silence. Two, the man answering the questions is seemingly unable to pronounce the consonant 's', and looks at the camera every so often, almost as if he were checking to make sure it was still there.

This verbal transaction is so lengthy and tedious that by the time they establish that the man is world famous Uruha Kato Sensei, and was there to speak about his latest novel, a period piece about Samurai (because there wasn't enough media on that already) I had finished my strawberry crunch bar and was half asleep.

"Yuuuuuuki!" I moan, zombie like.

"Sshh!" He snaps, frowning. But then, "What is it?"

"Can we go to the park?" He shifts beneath me, and rests a hand down on my stomach. I place my ice cream stick in my mouth, and cup his hand in my mine. "Pleeeeeaaaasssee, Yuki. I've been inside all day."

"You woke up an hour ago." He points out, his eyes still trained on the screen. "Why don't you go play with your friends?" I frown, and stifle the urge to tell him not to talk to me like I'm a child. To be fair, I was laying on his lap with a candy stick in my mouth begging to be taken to the park.

"I was out all night with Hiro." I remind him, as if he needed reminding. He'd waited up 'till 4 o'clock the previous night, under the guise of 'brainstorming for his next book', but he was on a three month vacation from writing and we both knew it.

Shattered , his latest novel was still fresh on the shelves from it's release two days ago. He'd worked himself to the bone to finish that one in what seemed to me, like record time. After six months of eating nothing but cigarette butts and beer, no sleeping, and not being able to take his frustrations out on me (I sought refuge at NGR, behind glass wall D putting the finishing touches on Bad Luck's third album.), he remained in bed for a full week, to recover.

He claimed he wanted to get it out at least three month before my album dropped. My last two LP's, had been released in tandem with his books, 'Lover', and 'Cool'. He didn't want the public to think we were doing anything as adorably couply as coordinating our respective careers. Heh.

"Can we go to the park, Yuki?" I ask again. "I didn't drink last night, so I wouldn't be hung over, and we could hang out." No response, but his eyes narrow. He's trying to listen to boring old Uruha Kato. "Are you paying attention to that old fart instead of me?"

"That old fart, is one of the most prolific modern novelists of the 21st century." He snaps, distractedly.

"...Isn't calling him a modern novelist, then saying he's of the 21st century ...superfluous?"

Yuki glares down at me. Its glare number 3.2. The one where he's genuinely annoyed, but also genuinely amused, and isn't going to yell at me.

"Who the hell taught you the word superfluous?"

"Tohma." I sit up from his lap, and pull my knees under me, forcing all emotion from my face, except for a small, insipid smile, and add an airy iciness to my voice. "Shindou-san, don't you think slathering your body in glitter paint, and then wearing a sequined stage costume is a bit ...superfluous?"

I'm ecstatic as Yuki leans back and offers up a rare chuckle. Most of it is silent, as if actually giving voice to laughter would be too much, but his amber eyes are dancing, and there's a smile on his face. A beautiful, out of place smile, that's for his Shu-chan only.

"You better not let him catch you doing that. Ever."

I roll my eyes and resume the position with my head on his lap. "Duh. I like the employed version of me." I was about to continue the story, and describe how K showed up out of left field, and ushered me out of Tohma's clutches towards the stage before our demonic president was able to go in for the kill on his verbal assault. But a prompt little buzz emitted from the voice box on the telephone. The voice of Mizuki filled the room.

"Yuki-san, I've got the book. Buzz me up, if you'd be so kind."

"Hi, Mizuki!" I call, and reach across Yuki, with excessive dramatics, falling all over him to press the button.

I get up, and head for the kitchen, just barely evading Yuki's grasping hands. I cast him a playful grin as I disappear into the kitchen, and deposit the candy stick in the trash can.

I'd first met Mizuki two years ago, as I was entering Yuki's first penthouse. At first I'd assumed that she was another of his trollops, and felt an upsurge of annoyance at the sight of her, but with her soft smile, and kind eyes, as well as her request that I take it easy on Yuki as he'd just turned in a manuscript ten days late and was tired, that annoyance was short lived.

I met her again two weeks later, after Yuki and I had, had our first tiff. What happened was, his sister Mika asked me to convince him to go to Kyoto for a few days to visit his sick father. I suggested it to him, and he got really angry and suspicious, and demanded to know what Mika offered me in exchange for getting him to go to home. He accused me of only pursuing him so I could use his connection to Tohma to further my career. (Can you believe that!)

Anyway, after I told Touma to forget the contract, and proved my undying love to my darling Yuki, he did as I'd suggested and went home. However, I was completely miserable for the four days he was gone. I didn't sleep. I didn't go home if I could help it, and I attempted to drown myself in cheep liquor. I also spent a great deal of time walking throughthe park, the place where we'd met, hoping against hope that he'd emerge and sweep me off my feet. Unfortunately, my prince didn't come.

But Mizuki did.

Apparently Yuki had returned to Kyoto without alerting anyone that he was leaving, and since the park was one of his haunts, and he was late on submitting the final draft of a transcript, Mizuki was there searching for him. She recognized me, and because I was drunk, and feverish (I'd fallen in the fountain about an hour earlier and refused to get out) brought me to her home. She let me shower, and even let me borrow her boyfriend's clothes!

She listened as I recapped Yuki and mine's tempestuous first two weeks of knowing each other, and unfortunately felt it was necessary to inform poor, naive, me that my Yuki was engaged to a woman named Ayaka, who now coincidentally is dating my best friend Hiro, but that's another story. Or at least another chapter. Anyway, my fever and broken heart combined and induced an impromptu fainting spell. I woke up in the hospital. They diagnosed me with the common cold, and a very mild case of alcohol poisoning. Heheh. Maybe my actions are a bit superfluous...

But it was Mizuki who summoned Yuki back from Kyoto.

She's like a good fairy!

From the kitchen I hear the sounds of Yuki opening the door, and allowing Mizuki in. I reenter just as she's rising from a deep bow, and closing the door behind her. Upon exiting the kitchen I place two drinks on the coffee table. A beer for Yuki, and a soda for Mizuki. We exchange smiles and pleasantries. I notice, not for the first time, how simple she is.

She has close cropped jet black hair, pale yellow skin, and lovely coal black eyes. As usual she wears a plain gray business suit, with a skirt. No make up. And flat shoes. The only other woman I'm acquainted with that wears flat shoes is my mother. But despite the fact that you would never notice Mizuki in a crowd, I hold her simple beauty in very high regard.

Yes, even above the radical, stylized beauty of the j-rock princesses, like Noriko Ukai, that stroll in and out of NGR. The cocky, painted up, reporters and interviewers. Even the traditional geisha like beauty of Ayaka. Even the ageless class that floods every room the second Mika Seguchi enters it. Mizuki's simple beauty was a rare commodity in this day and age, and because I put such high regard in beautiful things, that, along with her endless patience in working with my lover, makes her a goddess in my book.

My lover's editor was there to deliver to Yuki, a special edition copy of his newly released novel, the cover of which had been designed by a world famous illustrator.

"Oooh, Yuki. She's so pretty." I say, as I lean over the back of the couch where he and Mizuki are sitting. On the cover beneath the title Shattered,a lovely Japanese woman lays naked, surrounded by shards of broken glass. She holds one such shard and looks up at it, almost longingly as blood from her snared fingertip pools at one jagged edge.

There's a song in her eyes. I hear it. An acapella rhapsody. I want to steal it from her, and use it in one of my songs, but...I can't put my finger on the notes. It's frustrating.

Like trying to describe a color you've never seen before.

"We'll wait until June to release these." Mizuki was saying, through sips of her drink. Apparently she was verythirsty.

"But how come you didn't make all the books like this and release them at the same time?" I asked, coming around the couch to sit beside Yuki, so I could get a closer look at the captivating cover. It seemed unfair to make people wait for such awonderful illustration.

"It's called capitalism." Yuki replies evenly. "Just like when you rush out to buy those ridiculous DVD's as soon as they come out? But then a few months later a 'special edition' is released for about twenty bucks more, and you have to buy it all over again."

I blink, and slowly but surely, it dawns on me that he's right. I frown, feeling extremely jipped.

"Hey!"

Mizuki chuckles, as she finishes off her drink, and to my surprise she rises to her feet. After telling us that she has to go due to some appointment across town, Yuki follows her to the door to see her out, before returning to the sitting area.

"Don't do that!" He snaps, startling me, and almost causing me to drop the book, which I was preparing to open. The couch dips a bit, as he reclaimshis seat, and snatches the book from my hands. Rather than pout, I shoot him one of his own trademark glares. Number 5. The one where he's actually upset, and about to berate me for doing something wrong.

"What, you're gonna tell me that I gotta wait 'till June to see the dumb special edition?" I ask heatedly. He returns the glare, but then his expression becomes more grudging than angry...and then pensive. Then he shrugs, and hands me the book before picking up the remote controller and taking the t.v. off of mute, so he can listen to lame old Uruha Kato some more.

Huffing a bit, I accept the novel and place it on my knees, making a very big deal indeed about the simple task of opening the cover to read the title page. And then I read it...and then I freeze.

Everything freezes.

No...freeze isn't the right word.

Damn words and their occasional...'not right-ness'.

Already bleary eyed I look over at Yuki who is making a concentrated effort not to notice.

"So I guess...the fancy cover's not the only reason this edition is special." I mutter quietly, unable to keep the smile off of my face.

Yuki shifts a bit in his seat, and glances my way. The corner of his mouth twitches just a little."Whatever."

Not wasting any more time, I launch myself into his lap, sending us both spilling off of the couch, and onto the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Finally I maneuver myself into a suitable position, laying on top of him, so we're faceto face. He's used to this by now, and doesn't fight it.

"Thank you, Eiri." I whisper into his ear, before topping off the gesture with the gentlest kiss. This initiates desired flow of events, and I pretty much figure we're not gonna make it out to the park today. Sighs, and eventually, moans drown out the monotonous voice of boring Uruha Kato Sensei, while on our leather couch the special edition of Yuki Eiri's Shattered lays open to the title page, which simply reads,

"For Shu."

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Okay, so this chap. was mostly Shu's musings and yes, I am trying to drown you all in fluff. No plot yet. I enjoy strolling through character's heads, so if you're an action adventure lover, this is probably boring you. It'll get more exciting though, promise. Also, the fluff stops here. We're going to drama town, ladies and gents. It's time for some good old fashioned emotional torture. R&R!

Tune In Next Time for: Hiro's POV. It seems that he and Ayaka are having some trouble in paradise, while the Bad Luck gang tries to put the finishing touches on their final track, and what does an American film maker have to do with all of that?