"I Will Let You Sleep Today" / I

By: xxPetalsAndThorns9xx

Genre: Romance/Angst

Rated: G

Warnings: shounen-ai

Pairings: Shuichi/Eiri

Summary: Shuichi must learn to cope with the hardest thing he has ever been forced to face. And, of course, it has to do with his Yuki.

Notes: Due to the Gravitation characters being Japanese, and I have no clue of anything regarding Bhuddist religion, I don't really know what goes on during a Bhuddist funeral service (if at all). Please bear with me. Also, I'm really bad at speeches and eulogies, so Shuichi's eulogy won't be specifically written out. I'm sorry, but if I tried to, it would just suck and it would kill the mood of the story; you people can use your imaginations. Please bear with me.

Disclaimer: I DON'T own Gravitation or any of the characters. Don't sue me, needless to say.

This is dedicated to Daisy Taylor, my beloved grandmother. I will miss you always. Thank you for always inspiring to do the right thing and for helping me become a better person. You are an incredible woman; I have never known anyone like you, anyone with such a strong morality and heart. I will remember you as a wonderful person, always and forever.

For some reason or another, he appeared to be at so much peace.

The same could not be said for poor Uesugi Shuichi, who had not slept in two days. He did not even know it was possible to live with such lack of sleep for so long, but he still tried his best to be perky and a bit optimistic in the prescence of so many other people. If everyone knew he was ripped up inside, people would start giving him showers of pity. He did not want people to think, "Awwww, poor Shuichi." Still, it was not as if people did not already pity him.

He could feel a friend of his approach him and then rest a comforting hand on his opposite shoulder. For a split second, he had desperately wished it was Eiri. He quickly realized that it was only Hiroshi. "You going to be okay, Shu-chan?" the auburn haired man asked softly.

"Never," whispered Shuichi. He was not trying to be dramatic, but if he spoke any louder, he would break down crying. "Hiroshi, I-I miss him so much. . ."

"I know you do, Shuichi. Are you going to be able to handle the service?"

"It's too late to worry about that," he replied with a light, distracted shrug. "Besides, it's only fair that I attend the service. For him. He deserves it."

"He does," agreed Hiroshi.

Near the back wall of the dim room, a mahoghany casket held the body of his one and only Yuki. The top half was left open, giving visual access to his torso and his innocent-looking face. . .That was so weird for Shuichi to imagine. Eiri had never seemed "innocent" in any shape or form until now, minus his whole story about Kitazawa Yuki. His golden hair was a bit ruffled (Shuichi had told the people at the funeral home exactly how he prefered it) instead of neatly combed, and his hands were folded neatly on his stomach.

Shuichi held four red roses and a photograph in his left hand, his right hand tightly clenching the metal bar of the casket. This was a lot harder than he had anticipated. Hiro turned to look at him instead of Eiri, and saw the discontent in his face. Shuichi was not one for hiding his emotions at all, and it was quite clear how much this was breaking his fragile heart. His best friend gave him a pat on the shoulder and slowly departed, informing Shuichi that he was going to talk to Tohma.

Shuichi continued to stand there and stare in silence. Eiri's face was pristine and untouched; usually, funeral home workers would touch up the faces and hands of the deceased with wax or plastic in order to restore some youth. However, because Eiri had passed away at such an early age, there was no need to bring back any youth. He was already beautiful and even appeared perfect, similar to an angel. Besides, Shuichi had told the workers that they had better not dare to touch his Yuki's face unless they wanted a funeral of their own.

He leaned over the side of the casket and, ever so cautiously, he placed his face close to Eiri's. With more desire and need than reluctance, Shuichi placed his hands behind Eiri's gentle head and gently kissed his cold lips. He would give anything-anything in the world-to have that kiss be returned to him now. Never again would he feel Eiri's arms around him, nor would he ever again have the privelege to hear him speak.

Finally, it fully registered in Shuichi's mind. He dropped the roses, along with the picture, to the floor as he parted their lips. He almost expected Eiri to open his sweet blue eyes and say, "So what?" That is what had happened once several years ago during his brief bout at the hospital. Shuichi backed away uneasily and gazed even more heavily on Eiri's precious face. "I thought youtold me never to leave you again?" he murmured as he knelt down to retrieve the discarded items.

He received word from Mika that the workers were starting the service in five minutes. Directing his attention back to his beloved, he smiled and held a rose over Eiri's body. He plucked each individual petal and sprinkled them across Eiri, then tucked the other three flowers underneath his hand. Normally, one gave one rose to a deceased loved one, but Shuichi wanted to find some kind of attempt to show how very much he loved his Yuki. Each of the roses also represented past, present and future.

"I'll never forget that day, Yuki," he mumbled, eyeing the photograph. It was the image that had been taken on their very first date: the print club picture that he had obsessed over the entire day. Eiri was not smiling in it, but Shuichi was grinning from ear to ear. He traced his finger over the violet ink frame in aching adoration. He loved Yuki so much. . .

After propping the print club photograph against the side of the casket, he whispered to Eiri:

"You were too perfect for us." He promptly bent down and pecked him on the cheek. He felt a silent tear slide over his cheek and onto Eiri's. When he rose back to his upright position, he could only stare in awe. Hiro had returned to his side at this time. Two men were closing the top joint of the casket, turning the image of Eiri's body nothing but a memory to Shuichi. His eyes widened in fear and he violently tried to get a hold of the workers.

However, Hiro held him from behind his arms, gripping him in something similar to a headlock. "What's the matter with you already!" The black haired teen struggled against his friend's hold.

"Let me go, Hiroshi! Those bastards are closing his casket! They're taking him away!" Shuichi shouted in rage.

Making soft hushing noises, Hiro managed to speak into his ear, "Sh-h. Sh-h. It's okay. They have to do that to bury him, Shu-chan. Calm down-"

"Bury?" his skin became pale. How could he have forgotten that they were planning on dropping Eiri in a hole in the cold Earth? His subconscience was screaming that this was not right. "No. No! Don't let them do it, Hiro! Don't! Don't you dare let them put my Yuki in the ground!" His screaming only became more and more desperate, and he fought against Hiroshi's clench so much that he was able to overpower him, and he collapsed to his hands and knees on the floor.

It was clearly typed "Euology:Uesugi Shuichi (Husband)" on the paper. However, at first, said husband was not in the room to deliver the euology. For that reason, one of the funeral home workers requested some silent reflection among the people until Shuichi arrived.

Among the people present were pretty much every person that Shuichi knew. Seated in one of the front rows were Seguchi Tohma and Mika, along with Tatshua (who had requested not to lead the funeral service) and Eiri's father. For whatever reason, the other front row parallel to the first was left empty. Scattered across the room were Kitazawa Yoshiki, Ark, K, and Miss Judy Winchester. Then there was Sakano, Suguru, and Reiji. Usami Ayaka was present as well; she was seated in the back corner and trying not to bawl her eyes out. Even Shindou Maiko and Shuichi's mother were able to make it to the occasion.

Eventually, as originally planned, Shuichi strode through the back doors and made his way to the lonely podium. He was not smiling, but he was not crying or frowning either. He could almost feel Eiri behind him, giving a light push of strength and confidence. "Hey, you. Get up there and speak to those people," he could almost hear him say with a chuckle. For a brief second, his lips curved upward as he mentally replied, I'm sorry, Yuki. I won't run away anymore.

Once his best friend had made it into the room, Hiroshi silently slipped into a pew and sat down next to Suguru.

Shuichi nodded to the group politely and realized that there were not too many people in the room. It was not right. Eiri deserved so much more than roughly fifteen people. Sure, there were times when the guy was a jerk or cold-hearted or just plain mean. . .but behind that mask of hatred and discontent was the true form of Eiri; the one that had a beautiful and understanding heart, the one that kind and caring to the people he loved.

Shuichi could not believe he had lost someone so close to perfect.

Then, something else hit him: he was the one who had been able to bring out that side of Eiri. For years after the death of Kitazawa Yuki, the romance novelist wore a hard shell of ice and tried his best not to let his own family into his heart. Eiri had shunned Shuichi, he had pushed him away, he had told him that he would never love him or even like him. However, for some reason, Shuichi never left him. Not once. One time, he had gone to New York, but only because he was taken by force. There, he had tried to forget about Eiri.

But his heart would not let him abandon this person that he loved so dearly. Not ever. And not only was he glad that he had met Uesugi Eiri, but also that he was able to save Eiri before he left this world.

He sighed faintly, closed his eyes and looked back up again. He was finally ready to do something that he had not expected to be faced with for decades. He could finally say good-bye to his husband, and he would do it with every shred of strength in his mind and heart, because he knew that Eiri did not want to see a single tear come from him.

K had driven Shuichi to the funeral home because he knew that the vocalist was not in good enough condition to drive anywhere on his own. When it was time for burial, K placed his hand on a dazed Shuichi's head. "Are you okay, man? I can just drive you home now if you want me to. They'll understand if you make an early departure."

"I'm not leaving early, K," protested Shuichi softly. "I have to say good-bye to Eiri."

Now, Eiri's closed casket, enclosed in another metal case, was suspended over the hole on thick bars. About five minutes ago, Tohma, Mika, Tatsuha, and others had already finished their mental farewells. Shuichi, on the other hand, had hesitated until those people were done. He wanted to be the last one to bid him farewell.

His palm touched the casket, and as Shuichi closed his eyes and tried to relax, he leaned against it. It was about ten minutes before he allowed himself to back away from Eiri, but it seemed like well over ten hours. He fell to his knees, still touching the casket for another five minutes.

His shoulders trembled as he finally let himself into a fit of tears and sobs. He wanted to be strong, but no one had ever really told him that crying made him weak. Shuichi was very proud of his mature ability to keep his composure through most of the day, but now he bawled like a baby almost shamefully.

"I love you, Eiri."

End

I hope I get some reviews for this. This isgaspmy first ever Gravitation fanfiction! Do you aim to find out how and/or why Eiri died? Or what happens after this funeral? I'll be writing a Part II shortly, so be on the look out for it. (Therefore this isn't a one-shot, but it is short enough to be considered that.) Review!