Title: I hope to Heaven his soul is gone

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation and I work unprofitably.

Warnings: death, depri, darkfic, shonen-ai, lime

Pairing: 読んで下さい。Read it please. ) Try to find it out by yourself!

Comment:

I'm really sorry for my shitty English, guys. Unfortunately English is not my mother tongue, so please don't kill me, when there is something wrong, okay? °

Originally I have written this text in German, but last night I suddenly wanted to translate something…

Gosh, my English goes down the tubes. scream

Well, na no da.

If there's still someone who wants to discover my scary world of incorrect grammar and spelling mistakes, feel free to read this stuff.

Rieina Bara: Uwaaah…Thank you! . I thank you so much for correcting this chapter.

ありがとうございます。Arigatô gozaimasu.

"Goodbye, Shuichi."
For hours he stared at the ceiling of his room. The walls were still bare, because he had moved in just a short time ago. Only a few posters of his idol, Ryuichi Sakuma, decorated the walls, where the plaster already fell off.
Shuichi sighed and turned round to look at the luminous face of his alarm clock. It was already 3 o'clock in the middle of the night and he was unable to sleep. Outside a car seemed to pass; a ray of light wandered about the floor, up to the wall and the roof. Shuichi closed his eyes.
It was over. It was all over and done. Yuki had left him.
Shuichi always thought they could become happy together, especially after Yuki had realized that Shuichi wasn't a replacement for Yuki Kitazawa.
But now nothing could be done about it. Somehow his own reason gave him a start. But he had recognized that Yuki and he had their own lives to live.
In the last part of their life together, he had barely set eyes on Yuki and when his friend was at home at all, he rather spent his spare time on his laptop…
At last, both of them decided to split up; Yuki went to America and had found a publishing house that was willed to publish his works in the land of limitless opportunity, so he tried to begin a new life there now.
Shuichi laughed inwardly; had a feeling of bitterness. America…
Kitazawa…
He never could free himself from it. The boy shook his head.
Yuki's past really was too close to Shuichi and would never let him go; it put him in invisible chains…
Yuki's past had a gravitation which was considerably stronger than the feelings that ever existed between them.
But even Shuichi had to confess painfully that he didn't love him as much as in the beginning of their relationship…
First of all he thought that this was normal, because nobody could stand this state of terribly being in love… These permanent attacks of galloping stupidity caused by having a feeling of anticipation in his stomach, a feeling as if he could fly and a rapid pulse, then this awful blushing and permanently sweat-soaked clothes…
No…such a feeling couldn't exist the whole time. He thought that his love had become more profound, but apparently it wasn't like that.
He didn't even know if he missed Yuki. A little bit perhaps, but when he considered it, he didn't need Yuki anymore. And Yuki didn't need him as well.
The pink haired boy sighed again. Then he brought himself to stand up, put some clothes on and finally left his apartment.
The boy strolled around the metropolis for a while, regarding the dazzlingly bright advertisements that lit up his way. He had to stop racking his brain about that all. He didn't want to think anymore, the more he did this the more he became depressed.
After recognizing that his feet turned into ice he decided to pay Hiro a visit.
He simply needed closeness, a person he could talk to. The quietness in his apartment was unbearable. He just couldn't stand this bareness anymore.
It was shortly before 6 o'clock in the morning when he woke up Hiro by ringing the doorbell. Dozy, he opened the door.
"Shuichi…what's the matter?"
"Anô…gomen ne for dropping by so early in the morning…may I come in?"
"Hm, sure…" The longhaired mumbled and stepped aside to get out of Shuichis way.
"I couldn't stand it anymore at my home… Over the years I lived with Yuki, I had been too used to the fact that I'm not alone." He screwed his eyes up. "I'm really sorry that I'm disturbing you that early…"
Hiro groaned. "It is okay, Shuichi… you know that you're always welcome." He said with a tired smile and rubbed his hair.
He could imagine that Shuichi felt alone. Yuki was away, Hiro himself was with Ayaka, who was his girlfriend now, for much of his time, and otherwise he thought that the boy had no friends.
Shuichi was too busy with the relationship towards Yuki and Bad Luck's way up; he had no time to find new contacts. It was especially difficult to find people who liked him because of his character and not due to the fact that he had success.
At any rate he was a celebrity in Japan, a second Sakuma Ryuichi and his successor so to speak. Of course he was very proud of it and bore it with dignity. He worked very hard to meet the necessary requirements… because Sakuma-san wanted it like this.
Shuichi sat down on Hiros bed and turned the TV on. Hiro, who needn't go to bed again anyways because Shuichi wouldn't let him sleep took his guitar and began to polish it a bit, because it should look good on stage.
Shuichis eyelids became heavier. He sank back, didn't really understand what they were saying on TV. Only half awake he watched the morning news.
Yokohama. Last night a multiple dwelling was in flames. Nobody died, but some of the occupiers were overcome by fumes and had to be admitted to hospital.
Los Angeles. Sakuma Ryuichi, Nittle Grasper's former Lead singer who started his career here in Japan, died at the age of 33 years on his way to shootings for his film debut in the USA…
Hiro let his guitar slip to the ground. With a thud it stroke to the earth, the varnish peeled off and the guitarist looked rigid with fear to the television.
Shuichi stood up. His view was empty as if he would look through the TV. Shuichi shed bitter tears, but he didn't notice them.
Only the hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.
"Sakuma-san…" He whispered. "Sakuma-san…that can't be true…that really can't be true…no, it can't be…" He muttered again and again. A mad, doubting smile was on his face, whereas his tears couldn't be stopped.
"Shuichi…" Hiro tried to soothe him.
"Sakuma-san…Sakuma-san…no…Sakuma-san…"
"Shuichi...listen to me..."
"No, Sakuma-san...he is, he can't..." Shuichi looked at his friend with tear-filled eyes.
"Tell me that it isn't true, Hiro! Tell me that they haven't said this! Please!"
Hiro looked at Shuichi seriously.
"Please…" The smaller one whispered.
"Shuichi…he's dead."
Sharply Shuichi stopped his crying, stared at his friend in disbelief.
Horror and anger where reflected on his features suddenly.
"YOU'RE LYING!" He finally shrieked.
"YOU'RE A BLOODY LIAR!" Shuichi roared, turned round and shoved the television with a loud yell to the ground. The telly broke into thousands of pieces.
Wheezing, Shuichi fell on his knees to hit the pile of smashed crockery out.
"SHUICHI!"
"YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE LYING! YOU ARE A BLOODY LIAR! YOU'RE LYING!" He shouted, hitting the fragments, deep cuts littering his skin.
However he didn't feel the pain. In his heart everything was so empty, but nevertheless there was this immense rage…
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, SAKUMA RYUICHI!" He screeched while starting crying again.
"Shuichi…" Hiro took Shuichis wrists, hold on to the dainty boy.
Shuichi looked at the guitarist; tears welled up in his eyes once more.
"Why is he just gone without saying goodbye? Why does it have to happen to him…why did he have to die without…without…?" He sobbed, ragged with pain.
"I can't believe it…I will not believe it!" He whispered.
Slowly he stood up, moved from Hiro's grip gently but firmly to go to the balcony.
To be on the safe side, the longhaired guy went behind, because he feared that Shuichi would jump to his death. But the boy only wanted some fresh air, breathed in very deeply and began to shout as loud as he could.
Birds flow away. His scream was bloodcurdling, echoing; and even Hiro went all goose-pimply. Apparently his tears didn't want to stop running and dropped to the ground. His bloody hands groped for the wall while he put one foot in front of the other; he tried to dig his nails in the wall, then pressed his back against it and dropped to the ground.
He sobbed painfully.
His idol was dead. Sakuma Ryuichi didn't live anymore. That couldn't be; that simply couldn't be true. The person he admired the most in the whole world, the person he owed his career, his advancement, the person who always helped him to go on and carry on when he had a bad patch; this person who deeply impressed him like no person in his life before did, shouldn't be alive anymore? Simply like that? Died on his way to the shootings?
No, that couldn't be true.
He hugged his knees and began to teeter until Hiro drew Shuichi close to him and embraced the light body softly.

to be continued