Summary: Moving out and settling in outlandish urban monster Tokyo wasn't that scary. Juggling part-time jobs wasn't that intolerable. Why, living in a small one-room apartment that had a freaking gap between the wall and the ceiling wasn't that bad either. What was bad, of course, was the guy next door. An obnoxious one that irks him 24/7 with, well, everything. But then again, there was Hyde. So life wasn't all that bad. Funny how fickle it was though. [GacktxHyde

A/N: What's this? Writing in a Moon Child fandom but it ain't related to the movie itself? Well, that's true…but it's just that doesn't exactly have a category for JRock slash, you know? So yes, this little piece has no relation to the movie whatsoever and that it solely revolves around the two stars, Gackt and Hyde. I would like to join the LJ community and post it there but seeing that I don't have a lot of access to the net, I suppose setting up an account there would deem useless. Though I would like to try and write a KeixSho one day… /looks up in thought before shrugging and returning back to insane typing/

Well now. It was quite unlikely, but after watching a classic black-and-white Malaysian movie on television one afternoon, I really liked the plot of the movie where leading double lives can lead to a lot of mishap. It's a good movie actually, called Masam Masam Manis (which literally means 'Sour Sour Sweet' in Malay) with legendary Malaysian actor P. Ramlee starring in it. However, the only problem was I couldn't really understand what the actors were talking about due to my inability of grasping the Malay language entirely (despite the fact that I speak it almost everyday with those around me XP). Thank god for English subtitles! XD

Anyhow. I was inspired by such a simple yet brilliant occurrence that could happen in real life (in a wacky sort of way) that I decided to settle down and let these demented fingers of mine to type away absentmindedly. Adding to that, I've always wanted to try and write a GakuHai for sometime. So, here it is. A first attempt at something that is not anime/game-related. Hope it goes well.

IMPORTANT NOTE!! The content of this story is absolutely FICTIONOUS and entirely ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE (AU). Expect the characters to be slightly OOC to some extent, all in order to suit the flow of the story because I, myself, am not particularly sure how their real personalities are like as well as their true attitudes towards one another. Some content may refer to Gackt's actual experiences (with reference to his autobiography Jihaku) but if that may happen, all events will be twisted to be entirely fiction. For Gackt though, I do try to remain as true to his personality as was portrayed in Jihaku, particularly his wayward character during adolescence.

Warnings: One heck of a LONG chapter, profanity, gorgeous bishonensand a lovely portion of the all awesome shonen-ai.

Disclaimer: This story is purely fiction and is therefore not intended to be taken as fact. All publicly recognisable people in this story have been used for the work of fiction and the authoress DOES NOT have the intention to imply that these events have happened, will happen or should happen. The authoress has no absolute association with the renowned people and makes no claim of any sort on their persons.


A slight pursing of lips.

A shuffling of shoes against carpet.

There was a sweeping of a deep blue gaze, appraising.

Fluster. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry about the state of the place. Why, I hadn't been expecting you to arrive so early! Please excuse the mess, the room had been recently constructed and is currently being refurbished. Goodness, if I would have known you were to arrive here so soon, I would have told the constructers to speed up. Good gracious, I'm really –"

"It's alright."

Long pale fingers reached up and delicately removed the dark shades from the bridge of a slender nose, tucking it to the collar of a shirt. A pair of full, pink lips slowly parted, almost alluringly, before a recently lit cigarette was wedged into the space between. There was a slight swaying of russet tresses as a tall, lean body stepped further into the small room, deep blue eyes scrutinising the vicinity.

A puff of smoke, "I'll take it."

A surprised blink. "Eh? Oh but son, you mustn't force yourself! Surely, there must other vacant rooms out there which are in much better shape than this. Ah! What about the room downstairs? As a matter of fact, Mr. Hiraishi has just moved out as you have arrived, you may move there if you'd like. It's much more homely and–"

"No, I don't mind. In fact, it's just perfect."

"Well…if you insist. But – oh, goodness me! What about the lights? Heavens, I haven't got the men to install them just yet! Oh dear, do forgive an old woman like me, I tend to forget such things. Dear, oh dear, I need to call those men! Ah, but where did I place their number? Surely I must have –"

The cigarette was removed and another wisp of smoke was breathed out. "Please, don't bother about it."

"What? No lights? Oh no, that simply mustn't do, as a landlady it is my job that my tenants have such necessities up to their satisfactions!"

"Ah…but this tenant is already satisfied with what the landlady has provided," Deep blue eyes meticulously examined the cigarette stick that was carefully held between nimble fingers, speculating the small embers and ash at the edge. There was a slight twitch at the corner of the brunet's mouth. "There is no need for lights since I don't favour them, let alone use them very much."

The landlady looked astonished. "No need? Goodness me, young man, how do you work all this time?"

Upon that being said, the brunet glanced over his shoulder and looked at her, his deep blue eyes boring into her form, completely devoid of any sort of emotion. Like a porcelain doll, he stood there, watching her carefully with a deadpan expression. The look, miraculously enough, had managed to compliment those beautiful features idyllically. The atmosphere within the small room felt heavy with awkwardness on the landlady's behalf. She then realised that she was holding her breath, looking back at him with an air of anxious expectancy. It seemed like an eternity as they held each other's gazes, appraising each other's presence.

And then, a smile.

A small smile it was, yet it did wonders by illuminating the young man's features, making him look even more fetching than ever. Really, the young man was simply stunning. In conjunction to the slight upturn of his lips, the brunet's deep blue eyes ignited with a tad bit of subliminal amusement.

"Why, I use candles."


F r o m L o n g D i s t a n c e

a GacktxHyde story

Chapter One: The Wheel Starts to Spin

By s u I k a's w I n d o f t h e c e l e s t I a l


It has been a week or so since he had arrived. A week or so since he had got himself a job at a local casino. A week or so in which he was thankfully able to get an affordable place to stay. A week or so by which he had to kindly assure the landlady each passing day that he really had no need for electric bulbs and was entirely happy with working under candlelight. Really, the elderly woman was a persistent one.

Gackt sipped his coffee and set the mug down upon the table, cursing quietly when some of the warm liquid sloshed over the rim of the cup and spilt across the keyboard of his laptop. Without haste, he reached down to the third drawer of his small desk and drew out a box of tissues, soon setting out to clean the small mess he had carelessly made. Coffee is ridiculously expensive, he thought, tossing the used tissue into the wastepaper basket before taking another small sip, his deep blue eyes scrutinising meticulously across the screen. He had no idea why You reveres the drink so much. Speaking of which…

The brunet paused, his mug halting before his parted lips. He then glanced over to the side, watching fixatedly at the dim candlelight that flickered beside him, the feeble flame swaying from side to side in an awkward flimsy dance. He narrowed his eyes slightly, frowning a little in thought.

You was probably busy. Gackt knew that he wouldn't have much time for him at the moment, seeing how hard he was trying to improve his guitar skills as well as taking up violin lessons. He remembered first arriving in urban monster Tokyo, anxious of the exotic big city and what lies within it. In just one glance, he was disturbed, if not, amazed by so many diverse lifestyles and subcultures that had been led and taken up by the youths of the city, the bizarre hectic atmosphere that screamed 'RUSH!' had greedily engulfed him in a mere second as soon as he stepped onto the busy crowded street. The air was outlandish. A far cry from what he had breathed in Kyoto. It was foreign, strange, spontaneous. Yet he liked it nonetheless. He had enough of monotony.

Upon arriving too, You had offered him to stay at a place he had found and booked earlier on (by aid of the internet) to stay in. You was prepared as always, unlike him who tended to jump in without thinking about the consequences. So Gackt, of course, had declined the offer. Apart from being slightly embarrassed by his nature of being ill-equipped, he didn't want to be a burden to his friend. And he had his pride, of course. He'd rather learn to be independent the hard way, which was quite a step at the mere tender age of nineteen where most lackadaisical young men of his age would have trouble deciding what to do and where to go then. Gackt, however (despite being somewhat of a lackadaisical male himself), already had a goal set in his mind ever since he was in high school: Get out and get a new life. Yep, Gackt had a one-track mind after all. If he wanted something, then he would not stop to rest until he eventually would. No matter what.

You was outraged at first though, the moment he had heard Gackt had made an impetuous decision to move out of Kyoto to start a new life in Tokyo without the consult of anyone. Miffed (and of course being the protective and somewhat steadfast friend he was), he too had decided to venture out to Tokyo alongside him as well.

"You…really, you don't have to…" he had tried to say, only to be hushed when his friend's finger was pressed against his own lips.

"What? And let you have all the fun?" the blond had said with a friendly smirk and a playful wink, "Hell no. I'm coming along to keep an eye on you, whether you like or not."

Gackt smiled wistfully at the thought of his jovial friend, taking a sip of his coffee once again before grimacing at that bitter aftertaste. "Cheers," he muttered to no one in particular and drained the mug.

A silence ensued, only to be speckled with the occasional clicks of the mouse as well as the rhythmic tapping of socked feet against the leg of his desk.

Gackt frowned a little, scrutinizing the screen yet once again at a particularly interesting article of a website. A pale, long finger swept across the touchpad, meticulously guiding the mouse to–

"Argh, dammit."

A sudden thump. And the fumbling of clothes.

The brunet blinked, his attention deviously snatched from him and thus guided his blue eyes towards the wall against his bed. He blinked once again. Clothes? He stopped, abandoning his current activity and stared at a particular point upon the insubstantial wall, trained ears straining to listen in the deafening silence.

A dangerous wavering of a feeble flame, the candlelight further dimming the already dark room.

A pause.

Then he heard it.

The soft yet impatient rustling of material.

Deep blue eyes ignited with mild interest. Stripping?

Out of mild inquisitiveness, he unconsciously leant forward a little and struggled to listen carefully for conformation.

No. It was merely the dissatisfied shifting of a body upon the bed, searching for a spot of comfort yet failing to do so. So no, it was definitely not stripping.

A faint deflated look.

"Tsk."

Darn.

Rustle. Rustle.

A weak flicker of candlelight.

Thump. Flop. Thump.

There was a slight hardening of blue eyes, an air of expectancy.

Flop. Flop.

"……"

Finally, a sharp exhalation of frustration.

"God dammit…"

A rustle of bed sheets.

Soon there was the padding of soft, mindful footsteps against hushed creaking wood. The turning of a doorknob and the gentle click of a closing door, eventually followed by the light thuds that soon faded through further descent of the stairs.

Gackt kept his gaze upon his door for a moment, curious yet mildly surprised upon the fact that he had not encountered his neighbour yet, let alone know the fact that there was actually someone living next door. Or perhaps he did without really realising it.

"How…strange."

After a few blinks and a moment of resolute staring, the brunet eventually shrugged it off, turned back to his laptop and resumed back to reading.

Beside him, the candle brightened with newfound vigour.


"C…cu…ry"

A small thud, as the tip of the pencil dropped onto a sheet of paper. There was a delicate sway of long ebony locks and a dulling of clouded dark brown eyes as they raised their gaze up to the ceiling piteously. Really pathetic indeed.

A grumble of protest was made and a hand slowly rubbed across the surface of a lean yet oh so very empty stomach. Another wail of hunger and Hyde groaned, slamming his unfortunate forehead against the surface of the table. Clutching his stomach, he rubbed his forehead just nicely against his half-finished sketch, ignorant of the smudges that may blemish his forehead, before thumping his poor abused head upon the hard surface yet once again.

"…food…"

Thump.

"…need…food…"

Thump.

"…want…food…"

Thump.

"Ugh…so hungry…."

A brutal SLAM!

"Argh! I want my curry rice!"

Hyde rolled his head to the side and rubbed his cheek against his paper, pliant lips parting slightly as he stared at the door dumbly. Moaning and groaning like the agonised dying man he thought he was, the pencil between his fingers soon began their impatient rhythmic thumping against the table as he continued with his woeful griping.

"…curry…rice…"

Pitiful. By now, any sane person would have stood up, pull on some warm clothes (seeing that it was autumn), grab an umbrella and go out to get something to eat or some ingredients to cook in the kitchen downstairs. Hyde, however…

Thump.

"…food…"

Oh yes. Hyde was, in actual fact, quite the lazy ass. The foolish, imprudent man.

"God dammit…" he groaned, thumping his jaw against the table, "First, the bed was flat and hard and now the curry service is slow? Ugh, I need to file in a complaint…"

Upon saying that, heavy footsteps slowly thudded up the stairs, the wooden steps squeaking in protest as the weight of the individual strained them. Hyde ceased all actions and perked up in his seat, suddenly looking very alive. His dark eyes brightened with expectancy.

Is it…!?

The footsteps advanced closer.

Nimble fingers grasped the edge of the table in anticipation.

Could it…!?

Closer and closer. A pause and the sound of a doorknob being slowly turned.

Alas, hell broke loose.

"Yes! My curry!" Hyde made a mad dash to his door and flung it open with a burst of energy, grinning broadly from ear to ear. Why, a crazed look like that was bound to give one heck of a heart attack to the poor, unfortunate individual who stood on the other side.

Only, that there wasn't.

"Eh?" Hyde blinked, grin faltering a tad bit.

Dark eyes stared at the empty space before him, one that should have been occupied by the vital person who was deemed responsible for delivering his dearly beloved curry rice. He frowned at the vacant spot. Where were they? Were they running late or something? Caught up in traffic? Can't be. They were just down the street. Or perhaps they were conceivably devouring the dish at this very moment, soon to approach him at a later time with a feign apology, stating that there had been an accident on the road and the dish was ruined? Hyde gave the matter a thought, looking at the different possibilities that had sprung in his mind. Perhaps he should call them and holler down the phone, complaining about their sluggish service? Or maybe he should…

For some unknown reason, those dark eyes unexpectedly glanced over to the side. All in time to catch a small glimpse of a stunning copper sheen of brown hair and the swish of a long dark coat. All before the dark-haired man was soon greeted by the sound of a gentle click the white-washed door made upon being closed.

A faint scent of cool musk was left in its wake.

Hyde blinked yet once again, this time, genuinely surprised.

So that's him…?

He had heard, of course, that there was a new tenant (he heard they were a male so therefore presumed they must be male) lodging into the house but he had expected the individual to move into the recently vacant room on the ground floor downstairs. He was quite surprised that the newcomer had decided to move into the refurbished room beside his, one of the only two rooms on the floor (besides the bathroom and closet that is – other than that it was only the stairs and a large window (beside his new neighbour's room) that would light the landing during daytime). Originally there was only one master bedroom before he himself moved in about a month ago, but the landlady had decided to turn it into two rooms. Well, if he recalled correctly, he remembered her mentioning that the room beside him was meant to be a store room, not to be rented by anyone due to the room having no lights at all and that it must be far too small for anyone's liking.

A dark eyebrow was raised.

Yet she allowed the person to take the lightless room nonetheless. Even though it was deemed far too gloomy for any sane living being to stay within it.

A look of awe.

How on earth did he manage to survive in there for the past week? Without an utterance of any sort even?

Interest piqued, Hyde stepped out of his room and approached the other's door tentatively, contemplating whether he should knock and greet the other man. There was a pursing of pliant lips. Perhaps he should. Besides, it was a neighbourly thing to do, right? Wetting his dry lips in apprehension, he then reached over and slowly raised his knuckles when –

A loud grumble of protest emerged from his stomach

Hyde stopped in mid-step, his face immediately screwing up into a comical expression that was notably rather amusing to point and laugh at. The corner of his mouth twitched in unison with the slight tweak of a dark refined eyebrow. There was a slight gritting of teeth, though the supposed angry face looked entirely out of place upon his laughable awkward expression.

Patience, will you!? Just let me say hello and –!

An angry growl of insistent demand

In an instant he withdrew. Clutching his unhappy and protesting stomach, he quickly scuttled back into his room and slammed the door behind him with unbelievable formidable force.


SLAM

"What the fu–!"

Pale fingers loosened impulsively and the recently relieved dark coat slithered to the floor in a rumpled heap.

Gackt jumped slightly, startled by the sudden thunderous sound that came from the next room. Deep blue eyes diverted their attention towards the wall beside him, wide with franticness and incredulity as he rested his palm across his chest to steady the intense pounding of his heartbeat. "Slamming the door so hard…" he murmured reproachfully.

After staring at the wall for a moment and a curt shake of a head, he then made his way further into his room, running a pale hand through his russet tresses. Fishing out a lighter from his pocket, he set to light all the candles that he had prudently placed around his room. Upon reaching the last candle though, Gackt was soon in for another surprise. As that delicate hand that firmly grasped the slim body of the lighter reached over to the thin flimsy wick, a raucous cry had suddenly erupted from beyond the wall thus startling the poor brunet into a small stumble which he luckily managed to catch himself. Incredulous, the young man slowly turned to stare at the wall in disbelief. "What the hell…?"

Thump.

Gackt blinked, surprised.

Thump.

A muffled woeful moan.

Another blink. Once. Twice. Make that three.

Thump. Groan. Thump.

A prolonged stare of involuntary awe.

Thump. Whinge. Thump. Thump.

And then…

SLAM!

"I'M STARVING! ARGH, GOD DAMMIT! I WANT MY CURRY RICE!"

Gackt recoiled a feet away from his bed and gaped at the wall before him, blue eyes shamelessly wide for the young man was downright alarmed. And when the thumping resumed yet once again, those blue orbs just seem to widen even more.

Good gracious.

Just what on earth was this person doing next door? Was he…

A derisive sound was made and there was a terse shake of head.

Clearly, the other mustn't be some sort of…masochist, no? Why, he couldn't possibly be brutally beating himself senseless (how the person did it, he did not know. Or want to know for that matter) now, could he? And all because he was hungry and craving for some…what was it? Curry rice?

Gackt couldn't hold back that bark of wry laughter.

Why, an act such as that is clearly a dim-witted one. A foolish one, indeed. Really, who would be that idiotic to not go out and get himself some food to ease off his hunger, eh? Heaven forbid, but a person like that is clearly nothing but a futile, imperceptive, senseless moron.

((In the room next door, Hyde sneezed.))

Oh yes, a person like that is nothing but a minuscule little slug.

((Again, Hyde sneezed.))

Gackt nodded to himself in agreement. Yep, definitely a god forsaken low class slug.

A loud, violent sneeze wafted through the wall.

"Bless you," Gackt said absentmindedly, stepping forward once again in order to light up the lone candle that had been momentarily forgotten, innocently perched upon the surface of his small desk. A flourish of a lighter. A flick of a switch. Deep blue eyes scrutinised the small flame, watching the wick ignite with a gradual spark of promising vivacity. It swayed a little as a feeble draft had managed to skulk its way into the room through the small slit between the loose windows. It swept past him, invisible fingers tantalisingly trailing nonexistent patterns upon his warm skin. He shuddered a little at the ghostly sensations.

Darting his gaze to the window, Gackt glanced outside abstractedly, fleetingly taking note of a man who stood at the opposite of the road, his hands running over the wheel of his bicycle as he examined it closely. Blue eyes, lacklustre, watched in silence as a small shower had decided to fall, the small raindrops pattering lightly against the glass of his window. He pitied the man out there, standing in the rain, figuring out a way to try to get the wheel to spin. The chain must be jammed.

A pensive look.

Perhaps he should shut the windows tightly, in case the rain starts to intensify.

Upon taking one step forward though, a droplet of wetness flourished from out of the blue and carelessly plopped onto his slender nose. Surprised, Gackt reached up intuitively and touched the moist curvature of the bridge of his nose. Water…? He stared at the drop of water upon his finger in wonder. Where…?

The brunet looked up, only to frown upon seeing a small wet patch that lingered against the plaster discreetly, in hopes of being able to hide within the shadows creeping along the pale surface. Dampening with every passing second.

Blue eyes wandered across the white-washed ceiling, finding yet another one hovering closely to his bed. Equally dripping.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Gackt glared.


That does it.

Hyde stood up abruptly, a fire of indignation burning behind those dark eyes. Glancing at the digital clock on his desk, he cleared away his pencils and tucked them away into his drawer before turning around to pull out warmer clothes from his closet. Well now. It seems that the curry people were taking their own delightfully sweet time to reach here. It was taking far too long. Ridiculously long, in fact.

And Hyde was angry about it. No, not angry. He was downright outraged! It didn't take an hour or so for a simple dish of curry rice to get here. Why, it certainly did not take that long the last time he ordered it (which was yesterday) and or even the day before that. Good gracious, this was absolutely absurd!

And so, Hyde was about to do something unconditionally drastic. An act that was simply unthinkable and disbelieving to anyone who was associated with the unbelievably idle dark-haired male.

A pair of jeans were hastily wrenched away from pale slender legs before a clean pair of dark ones were tugged on rashly, a lean body staggering clumsily as socked nimble feet struggled to maintain balance upon the wooden floorboards.

Oh yes.

Pale nimble fingers began to clumsily work on the buttons of his black polo t-shirt.

He was going out to complain.


There was a sodden patch on his ceiling.

And Gackt was far from being happy about his discovery.

He glared at the small patch, pliant lips firmly pursed into a taut line. He cursed softly and stepped forward, examining the faintly browning plaster closely. It didn't look very threatening though, which was a good sign. But still. It could burst any day from now if more rainwater accumulates there. And the brunet was certainly not looking forward to sleeping in room where he would wake up to see a god forsaken hole staring down at him. Especially one that would allow the rain to freely fall through. He wasn't particularly keen on having a personal waterfall in his room, thank you very much.

He glared at it once again, for good measure.

He needed to do something about it. Perhaps he should inform the landlady tomorrow. Yes, that seems rational and less troubling for her, and that he was certainly not in the mood to be dealing with another session of her harassing him about the lights again.

Once again, those blue eyes speculated the wet patch, soon to wander aimlessly along the white-washed plaster in search for more. That is, before his gaze come in contact with…

Gackt blinked.

Is that…

A step forward. And a look of bewilderment.

…a gap between the wall and the ceiling?

Meanwhile, the man outside grasped the pedal of his bicycle tightly and started to turn it, struggling though ignorant of the rain pattering against his body.

Gackt stared for a moment longer, allowing the sight he was currently witnessing to assimilate into his surprisingly demurring brain.

No shit. There really was a gap above the wall.

The brunet regarded the wall before him, startled with his recent unanticipated sighting. A gap above the wall. What an uncanny sight it was, indeed! He took another step forward, examining it closely with developing interest. What on earth was it doing there?

Upon closer speculations, the young man finally came to realise that the wall was actually short and that it was unable to reach the ceiling. A partition between rooms, it was called, to be exact. A partition by which the gap had involuntarily acted like a window into the room next door, thus unintentionally intruding into one's privacy…

A look of realisation.

It was no wonder he could easily hear the activities of the person in the room next door. Which was exactly what was happening at the moment then.

There was a staggering of unstable feet.

A hushed rustling of cloth.

And an occasional curse or two.

Blue eyes lit with compelling curiosity.

Ah.

Perhaps…he should take a small peek over the ledge. Just a small one. You know, just to see how the room on the other side looks like. Or even this neighbour of his for that matter. Yes, he was definitely curious to know how this person looked like. Tempted, in fact. Now that wasn't a wrongful act, is it? Why, it wasn't like he was peeping or acting as some perverse voyeur of any sort (why the person next door was not a female, that was for sure – despite what the landlady claims it as – he had heard the person speak on the telephone occasionally (he was able to bring the phone upstairs?), so he was definitely male). Come now, it was just a quick look. A small look couldn't hurt right?

A curt nod of heartening determination.

Of course not.

And so, unable to restrain such gripping temptation, Gackt climbed onto his bed and (thanking those above silently for the benefits of being around 5"11) stood on his tiptoes, his long pale fingers enclosing around the brim of the partition. Pulling himself up slightly, those blue eyes soon cautiously peered over the rim.

The room was small, just like his, identical in fact. Only that this room had lights. And a bookshelf that was overflowing with horror and paranormal (Mystical Shamanism!? Was this person some sort of wannabe witchdoctor?) books as well as a huge disarrayed stack of manga comic books ushered into a corner. Beside it, a small television set had been shoved against the wall, perched upon a small table with a video game console attached to it. The console itself was tilted on its side dangerously as a shambled heap of various video games and music CDs were piled up beside the device messily. A trampled cushion had been carelessly kicked aside and under a small desk which was currently strewn haphazardly with sheets of paper, all bearing various indistinguishable pencil-drawn sketches. Pencils were scattered here and then, some rolling towards the edge precariously as a few books (the shamanic ones?) were left opened, all bearing pages that were imprinted with various tribal patterns. In another corner, just behind the door, was a small closet, its door ajar as it retched out a rumpled pile of clothes, a glimmer of a large mirror behind the closet door could be seen. Aside that, the wooden floor was cluttered with a few discarded garments and scrunched up pieces of pale paper, an empty packet of crisps discarded recklessly and forgotten beside the wastepaper basket that currently overflowed with even more pieces of crumpled paper.

The brunet grimaced slightly.

Really, the room was in such a bedraggled state. It was astounding that a person could live in such a mess. The room was a far cry from his dark, bleak and immaculate sanctuary. Though in the middle of all the clutter, however…

There was a lightening of deep blue eyes; a small yet evident spark of beguilement was detected within those subliminal hues.

A parting of lips occurred.

And a hushed inhalation of awe.

Oh wow…

There, standing the middle of the room, with his back turned towards him, was a lean young man (who was currently struggling to tug a dark shirt over and off his head) whose back was tattooed with a pair of jet-black wings embedded upon his back. Angels' wings, to be precise.

Gackt couldn't help but stare with captivation.

The delicate intricacy, the complex twists and turns, the sharp lines and swift refined curves of sheer black ink upon the smooth expanse of skin.

A slight twitch of pale fingers was made on the brunet's behalf.

Goodness. The tattoo was simply breathtaking.

However, speculations of such divine art was not one to last long as suddenly, unexpectedly, a little globule of water had decided to come out to play. Quickly creeping through the supposed decrepit plaster ceiling, it soon located its target and dripped down onto a currently enthralled Gackt's nose with a tiny, destructive explosion.

PLOP!

Surprised by the sudden contact of cool wetness, Gackt staggered back a little in surprise, stumbling upon the entanglement of sheets around his feet. Pale fingers gripped the brim ever so relentlessly as he struggled to maintain balance, his hip bumping with against the wall with a muffled yet audibly pronounced thud. Why, poor Gackt was way too preoccupied to spare a small glance at the window to watch the cyclist outside who pursed his lips in defiance and once again tugged on the pedal with all his might in attempt to free the stubborn chain.


Hyde cursed as one of buttons snagged on his hair, threatening to pull those poor ebony locks from their roots. Growling at the wincing pain, he uttered another incoherent curse as he struggled to free himself, fingers hastily untangling those locks whilst pulling the garment off.

However, upon finally managing to free his head…

Thud.

Hyde froze, the shirt slipping off his arms entirely and soon slumped to the ground, landing in a disarrayed heap that joined its counterpart, the recently discarded jeans. His body became rigid, arms strangely poised in mid-air as his ears perked at the noticeably muffled sound.

What…

A look of trepidation had managed to slip its way upon the man's features. Slowly, Hyde looked over his shoulder with overwhelming dread before he abruptly stiffened, body tensing in the matter of mere seconds.

For there, perched upon the brim of the partition were ten delicate long fingers, curled and gripping the sturdy edge in a somewhat tentative manner.

Hyde stared. Utterly shocked.

What. The. Hell.

For a moment, there was no movement or sound of any sort. Not even the wisps of rushing air being inhaled and exhaled by both parties were heard. The dark-haired male remained where he was, immobile like a stiff effigy.

A pregnant pause. All was still until–

The fingers twitched suddenly, maintaining a better grip on the brim of the stunted wall.

Hyde choked, enraged as a realisation soon came charging into the confines of his mind, gesticulating irately towards the affronting outrageousness of the situation he had managed to interpret as.

Good heavens.

There was a goddamn pervert living in the room next door!

Hyde bristled with indignation, clearly offended. "Great! First the bed, then the curry rice and now this!?" he hissed vehemently through gritted teeth.

How unbelievable! It was no wonder the man next door was so silent for the past week. Why, he had been trying not to raise any suspicions. Well now, it seems that all of that was merely an act and that he had been waiting all along for the right moment to strike! Ooh, the nerve of him! Peeping at innocent people whilst they were getting changed! Heavens, the other must have really desperate to even peek at men for goodness sake!

"Why that– god-damn…" he hissed, snatching a new shirt from the foot of his bed and hastily pulling it on before reaching for the nearest object within his reach. Gripping it tightly, the dark-haired male faced the wall promptly and waited in bated breath, dark eyes flaring as teeth were gritted in righteous anger. "You … I'll show you…!"

Wetting his lips in silent apprehension, Hyde watched those pale fingers tightened firmly and strained as the strong hands that came with it aided a body to pull itself up from the other side.

A tightening of grasp around hard wood.

A flourish of russet tresses, a gentle sheen of gold and copper came into the light.

An intake of breath.

There was a gradual, cautious emergence of deep blue eyes when–

"EAT THIS, PERVERT!"

A broom was brandished into the air, the tawny bristles gleaming menacingly in the light, before swiftly swinging down in an acute swoop and slamming straight into the intruder's face. The formidable impact startled the other man, causing the sudden release of fingers and a graceless stumble upon the other's behalf.

A loud crash was heard beyond the wall as the man's body toppled over and collided mightily onto the wooden floorboards, the impact of the sudden descent could be well felt in the form of little tremors beneath Hyde's socked feet.

Alas, flourish the fall of the Peeping Tom.

Upon that notion, the dark-haired man lifted his chin up haughtily and held the broom steadily by his side, smirking with compelling triumph.


Gackt stared, wide-eyed at the gap above the wall, utterly stunned and rendered absolutely speechless. A look of sheer surprise was etched upon his face, a comical expression that seemed to compliment those photogenic features nonetheless. Yes, upon being clumsily sprawled on his rear with his hands planted firmly by his sides as he supported his lithe body, the scene by which the newly recruited card dealer being laid out oh so alluringly simply looked far too enticing to let it go unnoticed. Oh yes, the brunet should be applauded for such skill to deftly land in such a pose that will clearly be attractive and suitable enough for the front covers of renowned fashion magazines.

However, Gackt wasn't much a narcissist so he didn't particularly spared a small thought on how lovely he might have (read: definitely) looked at that moment. No, in fact, he was downright outraged by the fact that he had been suddenly whacked in the face by a broom.

Yes, a broom. Out of all the things in the world. A goddamn, fucking broom.

Spectacular.

Gackt frowned, a pale hand reaching up to gingerly massage his currently throbbing and quickly warming nose. He flinched, however, as soon as he touched it. His frown deepened, mildly puzzled before allowing those pale fingers to curtly sweep across his nostrils, blue eyes soon glancing down at those long digits.

Only to…

Gackt gawked, astonished. Why, the contrast of vivid crimson blood against creamy porcelain skin was a definitely striking one. It was an astonishing sight, and the brunet was unable to help but stare in utter grotesque.

He blinked. A moment of reminiscence.

A flourish of tawny bristles…

And an agonizing blow to the nose…

A ginger touch upon the bridge of a slender nose. A slight hiss and a flinch. A small glance.

Blood.

Another sweep of fingers across sensual lips was made, resulting to the most expected staining of red blood upon tips of nimble fingers.

A clenching of a fist.

A narrowing of blue eyes.

And the gritting of teeth, an act of absolute fury.

Why that…

Gackt's eyes blazed with unreserved infuriation as he glared up at the gap once more, only to scowl darkly when the distinguishable wicked glint of vile tawny bristles could be seen. The sheen of those bristles were taunting him, provoking him with a scornful air. He scowled even more.

A pulsation of a small gash upon the curvature of a nose.

A dribble of crimson over surly lips.

A dripping of blood off a refined chin, spattering across wooden floorboards.

There was a silent gnashing of teeth, in conjunction to the violent tug against the stubborn chain of the bicycle across the road.

Two twitches occurred in one fell swoop.

little…!

Suddenly the young man stood on his feet with newfound vigour and glared up at the god forsaken gap above the wall, soon parting those lips and–

Of course, being the overly sceptical person as well as the oppressed scapegoat he resolutely thought he was, Gackt simply did what any persons of his sort would do in a maddening situation such as this.

He simply…

"THE HELL!? OY! JACKASS! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!?"

…yelled like there was no tomorrow. Or, even more precise, at such an ungodly hour of the night where many tired souls would very well be inclined to replenish their energy for the following day. Yep, Gackt was not in the right mind to acknowledge those poor tenants downstairs at that moment then. Good gracious, all he cared at this moment was to–

"SCREW YOU, PERVERT! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR PEEKING!" came the equally raucous cry of outrage from the other side, the broom brandished even more vigorously as could be seen from the gap.

Gackt bristled with indignation. "PERVERT!? WHO ARE YOU CALLING PERVERT, YOU LITTLE SHIT!? I WASN'T EVEN LOOK–!"

A bark of scathing laughter. "SAVE YOUR BREATH! DON'T YOU TRY TO EVEN THINK ABOUT TALKING YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS! I SAW YOU! I SWEAR TO GOD I SAW YOU PEEKING AT ME WHEN I WAS GETTING CHANGED–!"

The brunet clamped his mouth shut, restraining himself from lashing back at the other man with snappish retaliation as he would have done without a second thought due to his mulish and competitive nature since birth. What did the other just say…? With huge effort to keep himself composed, he then mused upon the situation as being stated by his neighbour, looking at the entire picture at a whole different angle.

Bloodied lips pursed, frowning in thought.

Peeping? He saw…?

Blue eyes lightened with realisation as a sleeve absentmindedly wiped the blood that currently ran down his nose in steady flows.

Ah.

It clicked. And everything fell into place.

It seems there has been a great misunderstanding and misinterpretations of the whole scenario. Yes, for overall it was merely a simple problem of impulsive brash assumptions which led to such an uninvited session of meaningless bantering.

Gackt almost slapped his forehead at such immature stupidity, tsking disapprovingly to himself upon his idiocy and vulnerability of letting such scepticism get to him very easily. He scolded himself. It was a show of weakness, one by which could easily land him into unwanted trouble. And that wasn't good.

How foolish, he thought as he glanced up at the gap where the broom could still be seen, still waving furiously in the air as the wielder continued to shout with righteous anger. The brunet sighed in reluctant defeat as soon as the other man finally ceased his bellows, the sharp intakes of his breaths could be well heard from beyond the wall. Hn, someone's seems all pent-up over there, the young man thought with abstracted amusement despite the grimness of the situation.

Gackt moistened his half-dried bloody lips, blue eyes focusing on the dried spatters of his blood upon the floor whilst grimacing at the metallic taste lingering upon his tongue. He cleared his throat audibly loud enough for the other to hear, "Hey…look…"

The person next door fell silent. An air of anxious expectancy.

The blue-eyed man swallowed and pressed on, treading carefully upon dangerous ground. He had hunch that this neighbour of his was a hot-headed one.

"I didn't, no, I wasn't looking–"

A violent SMACK! of wood against plaster was heard, an indication that the broom had been hit against the wall. A small act that is soon to be quickly followed by…

"LYING ASSHOLE! ARE YOU SAYING THAT I'M BLIND!?"

Gackt blinked, startled as he refrained himself from cringing due to the other's startlingly inhuman screech. Goodness, was his neighbour even human? He stared on at the wall in bewildered incredulity before narrowing his eyes in seething yet refrained antipathy. Little bastard…making brash assumptions again…!

And before he could even utter a word, the obviously ticked and pig-headed neighbour continued such rants, blissfully unaware that he was clearly pulling the wrong wires of a dangerously ticking time bomb.

5…4…

"–GEEZ, I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING SUSPICIOUS ABOUT YOU! NO WONDER YOU'RE SO DARN SILENT THIS WHOLE WEEK, NOT TO MENTION–"

3…2…

"–YOU PEEK AT SOMEONE ELSE, HUH!? GO FIND YOURSELF ANOTHER IDIOT TO LOOK AT AND… AND SCREW HIM WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, YOU…HORNY BASTARD!"

…1.

The bomb exploded. And Gackt practically screamed back without even knowing it:

"YOU SONOVABITCH! WHO THE HELL WOULD WANT TO LOOK AT A MIDGET LIKE YOU! YOU'RE NOT EVEN THAT ATTRACTIVE, LET ALONE GOOD ENOUGH TO FUCK! EVEN A BLOODY HORSE IS BETTER LOOKING THAN YOU!"

There was a strangled choke from the other side of the wall that obviously pointed out the other's shock but it was quickly retaliated with a screech of absolute infuriation.

"MIDGET!? M-M-MIDGET!!?? WHY… WHY YOU–FU–!" There was another short pause. It seemed as if his neighbour was far too angry to produce coherent sentences. In the end, what came out was distorted, broken words strung together in an idle threat: "I'M GOING TO SMACK THAT SHITTY BRAIN OF YOURS RIGHT OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN HEAD!"

"GO AHEAD! I DOUBT YOU CAN EVEN REACH!"

Outside (away from chaotic ruckus and raucous outbursts from both men, the angry smacks of brooms against walls as well as the upset wails and cantankerous complaints from rudely awakened tenants upon the ground floor of the accommodation), the cyclist finally straightened up from his crouch and beamed with accomplishment, wiping away the water droplets clinging to his tired face. He then grinned broadly at his bike before mounting it, sparing a small glance at the dimly lit window (where a tall brunet could be seen shouting at the wall rather irately) before turning the pedals with his feet and cycling off with absolute ease.

Alas, the wheel starts to spin.

And that was how it all started.


A/N:
And there we have it. The first chapter where our beloved Gackt and Hyde first set their eyes on each other. Well, sort of. That is, if you count in looking at fingers and tattooed backs instead of their pretty faces. XD

Looking forward to a second chapter? Then do drop in a little review! Reviews are yummy, by the way – sweet, delectable and edible things! Why, they are the perfect instant energy booster for many sleep-deprived, finger-abused and frazzled authors/authoresses like myself out there. Yes, such things do make us sorry little things feel loved and happy, even for a short while.