Title: Taking Care Of

Author: Proverbial Pumpkin

Rating: T for brief language

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No affiliations.

Author's Note: I refer in this story to the origin of the name "Nittle Grasper" almost as if there were no origin at all. This is likely just ignorance on my part, so don't blame the fic.


We don't all put the same effort into performances. Ryuichi, Noriko, and I- we don't have to. We've each got our own role on stage, and as it so happens mine doesn't require much more than looking energetic and skillful. I can handle this without much ado, since I'm naturally both. Noriko, on the other hand, is one of the few leading female pop stars in Tokyo, so she feels like she's got to do a little more to keep herself noticed, when performing.

"Noriko, you're way too loud, and it's not the amp. You're on the wrong setting."

She side-steps from instrument to instrument as if it's choreographed and gives the audience sultry looks and in general is a female celebrity. Ryuichi, however…is an Artist. He cares absolutely nothing about schedules and arrangements, and all his energy and attention is saved for the stage. Anyone can tell.

"…if you wouldn't mind, Seguchi-san."

I blinked fuzzily. "What?"

K looked exasperated. "I said, twice, turn the goddamn keyboard up. All I can hear is the sound of you spacing out in the middle of a sound-check."

I blushed and fiddled with my controls, rubbing at my eyes. I was usually on top of things like this, and I could feel Ryuichi looking back at me. I smiled reassuringly at him, but I was worried myself. Truth be told, I'd been out of sorts for several days now, and couldn't imagine why.

"Alright, that'll do it," one of my nameless techies said. Given the go-ahead to disperse, we retired backstage.

The concert was a success, as I knew it would be. Once off-stage, I immediately pulled out my cell phone, shrugging out of my performance jacket with the phone positioned between my ear and shoulder. The stage lights had started giving me a headache about half-way through the concert and I didn't really feel like speaking with anyone, but I had some last-minute Bad Luck business to attend to.

"Yes, Sakano-san, I wanted to ask you if you would be prepared to present that concept album we discussed to the panel by Wednesday afternoon, instead of on Friday. I have an appointment downtown on Friday, and won't be able to make it then."

I held the phone away from my ear as he lost his composure for a few moments, taking the opportunity to pull my shirt off over my head.

"Could we possibly wait until the next week?" he asked once he calmed down. His voice was nervous, as if I might fire him for his presumption.

"No. I'm very sorry to place you in this position, but my schedule won't allow it. You remember Nittle Grasper is performing three times again that week." From the doorway to my dressing room, K was signaling for me to hang up. I scowled, thinking he could at least let me clothe myself, but motioned him in. "Thank you, Sakano-san, I'll speak to you tomorrow to see if you have any more questions."

"Good concert, Tohma," K said when I was through with Sakano. "What are you going downtown for?"

"Thank you, K-san. To meet with that design company for the Nittle Grasper promotional posters." While glancing around for my regular clothes, I entered into my phone a reminder to have Sakano up to my office the next morning,

"Is an in-person meeting for that really necessary?"

I pulled on my undershirt. "I believe so." It shouldn't have been, of course. It was predominantly a procedural matter. Of course I knew that as long as they showed a photo of Ryuichi and had "Nittle Grasper" written on them somewhere, the posters would be effective.

Nittle Grasper. I love it when people ask me what the hell a Nittle Grasper is. I generally respond with a smile of pity and condescension, and then watch them get embarrassed and shuffle away so I don't have to fudge up an answer. Honestly though, does it matter? In a country where an author can sell a zillion copies of a novel titled 'GET', it seems to me that a name like 'Nittle Grasper' is almost clever.

"-to me like you've got even a busier schedule than usual this week."

K was speaking to me. I realized I'd been staring into space. "I… I'm sorry, K-san, what was that?

"Tohma…" K looked at me with genuine worry. "Tohma, are you alright?"

I suppose the inquiry was touching, but I wasn't used to outside concern for my well-being. I fidgeted with the hanger for my concert outfit and answered "yes. Why shouldn't I be?"

"Well, you've barely listened to anything I've been saying for the past couple minutes, and you were completely spaced out for the entirety of tonight's sound check. Oh, and when Shuichi-san barged into your office yesterday ranting about the size of his rehearsal room, you didn't even notice he was there until you got off the phone with that representative from Channel 52."

I frowned. It had not been a pleasant encounter with Bad Luck's singer, but the premise of the conversation had been almost too worthless for me to lose my temper over. There were already several things I didn't like about Shuichi, and his arrogance at requesting new rehearsal equipment only added, in my eyes, to his other imperfections.

I always saw the dye job as an act of desperation. Very few people of this business embrace their natural color and I'd lose the partial funding of Sleek Daisy Hair Products if they did, but the pink just seems a bit much. I suspect Shuichi wanted to distinguish himself from Ryuichi, but that in itself is a bit offensive to the latter.

"Tohma!"

"What?!" I said, startled.

"You're still not listening to me!" K exclaimed, staring at me incredulously. He was right- I'd lost focus again. It was embarrassing. My eyes were tired.

K shook his head. "I don't know, Tohma. All these meetings and phone conferences. Concerts, paperwork…."

I looked at him steadily. "What about them?"

"Well," he said, "I mean, face it. You're a performer and a president. And I think you've been doing too much recently."

I was indignant. "There's not one department of this company that could function without me."

"No, but I think it's all finally getting to you."

"I… My performance on stage and in the office is consistent," I said defensively. "I'm only doing what needs to be done."

"For the company, yes." K rubbed the back of his head. "Listen, why don't you take tomorrow off?"

"Impossible," I scoffed, glancing around to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything. "I can't lose a whole day of work."

K rolled his eyes and followed me out of the room. "Forget work for a minute, will you? Tohma, you're not well."

I was irritated with him for saying it. It made me feel tired. I kept walking, weaving around scores of workers who were taking down the equipment and cleaning up the place.

K stayed with me. "Look," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder and turning me towards him. "Did you drive yourself here?"

I nodded. I'd come straight from the office.

"Okay," he said in a pacifying tone, holding the exit door open for me. "Can I at least drive you home? You look exhausted."

I hesitated. "Alright," I finally answered quietly. He nodded, satisfied.

The air outside was cold, and I was glad I was parked so near. When we reached my car, I dug into the pocket of my slacks for my keys, and handed them to him before walking around to the other side. It felt strange, I thought as he turned on the ignition, being in the passenger seat of my own vehicle. But I wasn't worried; K was a good driver.

"How far?" he asked, backing out of the parking space.

I didn't register the question at first. My hands were trembling, barely perceivably, in my lap. I was surprised- It might have been a lingering adrenaline surge from the concert. Or maybe K was right. Maybe these past few days, I'd actually exhausted myself. "About an hour."

"In that case, you might as well go to sleep." His tone was casual, but I sensed something else in it. I looked over at him, and his gaze was fixed pointedly on the road.

I leaned the side of my head against the window. "Thanks."


Author's Note: Well, there it is. If anyone liked it, please do comment :-)