A/N: And so it begins. I love fantasy. Anyway, I know this is about Gackt and not Sho, but we'll pass through the Moon Child section of time eventually! It begins just after the death of Gackt's dear friend Kami (who happens to play a fairly major role even in death), and I hope you enjoy!

It was August twenty-third, 1999, at nine-thirty pm. It was a moment that would revolutionize the J-rock/pop industry. It was the moment that a young, ambitious woman and her band started their first performance. It was the moment that GREYCE began.

Look back up and see me waiting,

Watch me fighting to make my way toward you

I can't take the pain of losing your gaze

Tho' I've fallen far from your grace,

I've fallen far from your grace.

"Damn, Amami, you come up with the best stuff, doncha?"

The girl in question grinned, fingering the guitar in her lap almost absently. She had just finished showing her best friend and bass player Aoshi the latest song she had come up with. He was hurriedly scribbling it down on the sheet of paper in front of him.

"What do you wanna call it, Amami?"

"Don't know. It's about falling out with someone, so I guess we could call it "Falling" or something."

"Well, what if we called it "Tumble" or "Collapse" or something?"

"Not a bad idea. Ask Botahn and Onkei what they think."

Aoshi scratched his chin. "We should debut it at the gig this weekend."

Amami grinned. "You still think some guy from a record company looking for new talent will be there, don't you?"

"I know there will. Just you wait, GREYCE will break into the big time in no time! Especially with your beautiful voice gracing our music."

Her gaze remained fixed on a point on the wall. Though pure Japanese, her eyes were an odd grayish shade of blue. She had radically styled hair colored blue and white, the ends of her asymmetrical bangs were red, and she had three piercings per ear. Not much, but she still looked like what she was: the leader of a "Visual Kei" band.

Not that she knew much about the "Visual" bits. She didn't know because Amami Hayashi, leader of GREYCE, master of the guitar and violin, was almost completely blind. She saw faint shapes, faint shadows. That was all. She could navigate easily enough. She could even ride a bike or ski (though she needed a guide). In fact, unless you knew of the condition, there was no way to tell she was blind short of asking her to read, write, look at you or name a color being shown to her. She could remember colors, though. She'd lost her sight at the age of ten to early-onset semi-malignant cataracts.

She sighed and stood, carefully skirting the faint shadows that symbolized furniture. She was headed to the club for a final checkup.

Amami was delicately tracing the edge of the stage with her footsteps.

"You are quite positive you can do this, right?"

The manager. Amami smiled. "Of course. I have setup planned out perfectly. All you have to do is change nothing. If the mike is even an inch off, it will throw my picture out the window."

Their first gig was at a common enough place, just the average low-key club. On the other hand, several famous celebrities had been spotted there attempting to get some privacy (privacy in a public place, what a joke, thought Amami). She knew that Aoshi hoped that would happen on the night they performed. Botahn, the keyboardist, and Onkei, the drummer, were both skeptical, but none more so than Amami herself. She believed that reaching the top as they hoped to took hard work, determination, and a refusal to hear the words "no" or "that's not possible". Especially in GREYCE's case, the singer being a woman-and a blind one, at that. She'd been talking to the guys about stage names, too, but she didn't think they really needed them. Of course, most band members in Japan had stage names. X Japan, for instance, or Luna Sea. Solo artists tended to have stage names as well, like GACKT-who, incidentally, was at that moment making his way to the very club Amami was setting up for. But no one knew that, least of all Amami.

"So, do you have stage names?"

Oh, just what she wanted, a direct question. "Er, no. Never really thought about it, I mean, it's the band as a whole that matters. Who we are shouldn't detract from our music."

"I see...I suppose you could be right, but honestly you could give yourself any name you wanted."

"I like my name just fine, thanks. No offense meant, manager-san."

"None taken, Amami-san. GREYCE-all capitals, correct?" at her nod, he continued, "Yes, GREYCE is more important as a whole."

"Thank you. I swear we will not disappoint you."

Gackt stretched his arms and groaned, sitting in his (borrowed) car outside the tiny club. He was attempting not to draw attention to himself-even rockstars needed a break from the cameras. Besides, he always looked forward to hearing new bands. He'd even borrowed the car from Chachamaru since it was far less obvious than his own. He slumped slightly in his seat, watching as a pair of young men-probably no older than him-got out of a faded blue van and grabbed an amp each. The bandmembers, obviously. A third young man was standing at the passenger's side door to the car, and Gackt rather thought he was talking to someone. To his surprise, the man handed out a tiny, frail-looking woman. She was lifted with the ease of much practice, and after a moment, she and the man came towards him. He was struck by her movement, for thought she appeared frail, she moved as if through water, with the kind of flowing grace rarely acheived even by dancers. He hardly noticed her dyed hair or pale skin; He always focused first on how a woman spoke and behaved. By the looks of her movement, though, she was rather refined. He hastily pulled his beanie over his blonde-bleached hair and removed his sunglasses, tossing them carelessly on the dash. He was still composing himself to roll down his window as they came towards him. The man, Gackt noticed, was probably around his age, with black hair and dancing chocolate eyes, mischief in every movement.

"Pardon me, sir, but are you planning to enter the club tonight?"

Gackt smiled affably. "Yes, I am, but it's not open yet."

"Well-" the man's moderately deep voice was cut off by a light touch on his shoulder from the girl.

"Come now, Aoshi, you sound as if you are accusing him of something. Let me handle this." Gackt resisted the temptation to lean out the window and stare at her. Her voice was as smooth as her movement, and her speech was proper and refined. When she smiled, he felt his heart rate increase as he watched her full lips part over her straight white teeth. She was beautiful.

"My apologies, sir. Aoshi and I are part of the band performing tonight, and we were wondering if you would be so kind as to help us get some of our equipment inside."

He swallowed convulsively, his mouth dry. He hoped she didn't notice that. "Uh, sure. Sure, of course. Let me just-"

He got out of the car, trying not to trip over himself in his haste. A tiny part of him was a bit pissed that they clearly didn't recognize him, but the rest of him was screaming, KEEP YOURSELF TOGETHER, GAKUTO! NOT BEING RECOGNIZED IS THE WHOLE POINT!

The man held his hand out, and as Gackt shook it, he said "My name is Aoshi Morioka. Pleased to meet you. This is Amami Hayashi."

"A pleasure," he said, lifting Amami's proffered hand gently. He momentarily debated kissing it, but decided that would be too obvious. He instead opted for a gentle shake. She looked so frail that he caught himself consciously trying not to squeeze her hand very hard. "My name is Gakuto. Camui Gakuto."

She inclined her head, and Gackt noticed for the first time the incredibly dark sunglasses she wore. It was almost nine at night now, and rather dark, but who was he to talk? He wore sunglasses all the time, even inside. He wondered briefly if she might have a similar condition to himself-photosensitive eyes-and dismissed it just as briefly. She spoke again in her smooth, high voice. "Gakuto. A musician?"

"Yes, how did you guess?"

"Gakuto means 'Educated Person', does it not? As a rule, musicianship is part of an educated person."

He smiled at her. "Yes, that's true. My father is a jazz trumpeter."

She smiled too, though not directly at him. "How odd, my father is an improvisational clarinetist! He's quite fond of jazz." By this time, Aoshi had unconsciously pulled ahead of them and opened the back of the blue van, yanking out boxes that appeared to be full of drumset and music tech equipment. Gackt took the opportunity to talk to her a little more, asking "So what position are you in this band? I don't know much about tonight, my friend bought me my ticket." Not a lie, You had gotten it.

"Well," she said softly, lifting a hand to her mouth and demurely covering a giggle, "Our band is named GREYCE, G-R-E-Y-C-E all capitals. We've only been working together as we stand now for about six months, but we all work well together. It's myself, Aoshi, and our other two members, Botahn Tsakitsume and Onkei Mitashi. I'm lead guitar and vocals, and I also compose the songs, though if nore than one of us comes up with lyrics, we vote on the ones we think are best for the music. I also play violin."

"GREYCE, vocals...I must say, I'm looking forward to this," he said. "What exactly should I carry in for you guys?"

By this time, they had reached the van. Aoshi handed Amami a guitar case, gently turning her in the direction of the door and giving her a light push. "Go on, Amami. Gakuto here looks strong. We can get the rest."

"If you say so." She walked slowly-always slowly-to the door.

Gackt shot Aoshi a slightly accusatory glance. "Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"Show her where the door is."

"You mean you didn't figure it out?" He sounded astonished.

"What?" Now Gackt was irritated. This guy was treating him like he was stupid.

Aoshi just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Amami's blind, man. Stone blind. She can hardly see shapes."

"Blind?" She was blind? Amami was blind! It took him by surprise. "What do you mean, she's blind?"

He ran his hand through his hair again. "Exactly what you'd think. Amami lost her sight when she was ten years old. She sees vague shapes and, depending on the sun, faint shadows. That's how she gets around. Who else would wear mirrored sunglasses at this time of night?"

I would, he thought, but didn't say it. Instead, he lifted the larger box with the ease of much practice, prompting Aoshi to look amazed, then said, "You know her well, do you?"

He grinned, hoisting his own box out of the van. "She's like a little sister I never had." Aoshi frowned. "Scratch that, she's a little sister I actually like."

He tossed his box on top of the one Gackt was already holding without warning, looking pleased when he didn't stagger. He grabbed another instrument case out of the van and placed it on the ground, then removed a large case that was probably a keyboard. He picked up both, sighed, and motioned toward the door.

"What is she like?"

Aoshi shot an odd look at Gackt. "Why? Think she's cute or something?"

Gackt decided to be honest. "She's not cute, she's beautiful. It's not every day you meet a woman like that."

"...You're smarter than I thought."

"What?" Gackt frowned. What was that suppsoed to mean?

"You saw her personality first, didn't you?"

"She seems like a very...how do I say this without sounding completely chauvinistic...a very, er, refined woman."

"You got that right. She's like no one I've ever known. She's only twenty-three, but she graduated high school in my class. She was sixteen! Sixteen and blind, showing all us eighteen-year-old perfectly healthy men up! I've never seen anything like her. We've been friends since we were kids."

"Wow. She's as intelligent as she is beautiful."

"You're welcome to her, if she'll have you."

Gackt almost dropped the boxes in shock. "Excuse me?"

Aoshi smirked. "She's pretty picky about who she dates. She was with this one guy all through high school and she's still his best friend. He was a great guy, too, really unusual. Drummer, I think."

"Was?"

They had reached the door now, and as Aoshi pushed it carefully open, he frowned. "He died a few months ago."

Gackt felt a chill run through his bones. "What was his name?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Just...curious, I guess."

"Hmph. His name was Ukyou. Kamimura Ukyou."

This time Gackt did drop the boxes-thankfully on a table. "Ukyou Kamimura! I knew him!"

"You did?"

Suddenly, she was there. "You knew my Ukyou?" And she grabbed him by the arms, shaking him with more force than he would have thought she could. "You knew my Kami! Who are you? You weren't at his funeral! I don't recognize your voice, if you were his friend you should have been-"

She stopped suddenly. "You're Gackt. That's who you are. You were his only friend who wasn't at his funeral." She started to shake a bit, and he held her arms gently, trying not to hurt her. "I remember yelling at Mana about it. I remember how he didn't tell you. Everyone thought I was crazy, yelling at a fellow guest in front of Kami's casket. But I just told them he would have wanted you there. He wanted you there, and Mana was too much of a self-centered little bitch-"

He started at the word, amazed that she was so upset as to swear at all, much less with that word relating to a man. But the words kept spilling out. She was flooding him with things he'd never known. " He couldn't even tell me why you weren't there! I-I..."

She stopped suddenly. He held her steady, oblivious to the incredulous look on Aoshi's face. He spoke softly, like he would to Belle when she was frightened of a rainstorm. "Yes, that's me; it's okay, you're right, Kami wouldn't have wanted-" he broke off. He'd never been good at hiding his emotions. "Kami would have wanted Mana to at least call me. I had a feeling the entire time that something was wrong. When I found out, I cried for a week. I couldn't figure out why I hadn't tried to call Kami directly. What else happened?"

She sniffed, and he was appalled to see tears leaking from underneath her sunglasses. "Is it okay if I take these off, Amami-san?"

She nodded, and he removed them. Her eyes were closed, tears trickling from the long lashes. "I remember yelling at Mana. They-the funeral people-they let me touch Kami's face. My last 'sight'-" she laughed derisively, "My last sight of his face. He was so cold and still, it wasn't like him at all. Then Mana tried to lead me to my seat, and I turned on him. I screamed over Kami's dead body that Mana was a complete and utter jerk, that he should never have tried to leave you out of it because of some stupid grudge. He tried to shut me up, but I kept yelling. Than I slapped him."

Gackt had to laugh. "You slapped him? Mana?"

"Yes! I slapped him! If Kami had known what that complete prick had done, he would have-"

"-Punched him in the face." Gackt finished.

"Yes..." Amami opened her eyes. Gackt hadn't been sure what he would see, but her open eyes gave him one thought, and one thought only: protect her. They were large and full of tears, completely fogged over, except for a few dark brown flecks that were probably the only reason she could see anything, even shapes. They seemed to be staring directly at him, though he knew she couldn't see more than the outline of his face. She looked so vulnerable, so sad. "I'm sory to become so emotional, but it's just such a fresh wound..."

He completely forgot himself and pulled her into a tight hug, her tiny five-foot frame swallowed by his own, for he was nearly a foot taller. He spoke barely above a whisper. "I know. So new..."

She clasped her arms around him, to his surprise, laying her head on his chest. She smelled of chrysanthemums. He bent his neck to brush his lips lightly on the top of her head, no longer caring that Aoshi was there, nor that two more young men- the other two band members, most likely-had entered and were staring. All he knew right know was her. Her tears were his tears, the wound of Kami's premature death ripped open anew. He held her as he though Kami may once have, and he tried through their embrace to tell her everything he couldn't voice. Her hot tears dropped onto his shirt, her sobs wracked her frame and he held her tighter. He held her like he was her anchor, like she would float away if he let go. He'd never met another person so unique, beautiful and friendly, but at the same time emotional and fiery. If he could have visualized what was happening to him, he would have seen the threads of his life snapping all around him, every connection he had splintering. He would have seen them winding into a cable of solid steel, connecting him to the center of his universe-the girl he held in his arms. He almost couldn't believe himself, he'd only known her for about five minutes and she was everything. She was his sun, moon and stars. She was his air, his sun, and his reason to be.

He loved her. He, Gakuto Camui, was twenty-six years old and had fallen in love for the first-and he was sure-the last time of his life. He stood like a straight, proud tree, holding her safe from harm. He couldn't stop the words leaving his mouth, the French heavily accented.

"Je t'aime plus que ma propre vie ..."

To his amazement, she answered in kind. "... et vous me complète."

I love you more than my own life...

...And you complete me.

A/N: That was SO much fun!:D I said Kami played a part, didn't I? But don't fret, Kami fans! He's not done with this story yet!

I know I didn't go much into Amami here and that Gackt would be unlikely to actually do that, but keep in mind that (a) this is mere months after Kami's death so he's particularly emotional, and (b) Amami's a new character still in development. Besides, who knows, maybe if he met the right person, someone as talented as him, but with flaws that made him want to keep them safe, he would act like that. Call it creative leeway.