Shine On You Crazy Diamond
A Gravitation fanfic written during the NaNoWriMo season of 2009 and continuing into whenever by Alec Shields aka doorknobofakender.
Disclaimers: I do not in no way or form own any part of the crazy series called Gravitation. I do however own a couple disgruntle cats, a plot of land, and an addiction to Iceman songs and Daisuke's technicolored jacket. And let's not forget the gymnastics of Rin and Kenichi's leg kicks. I am not writing this for profit, only as an exercise of silliness with a side order of tea. With milk.
Author's Notes: Once upon a time, I was working on a lovely and long Gravitation fic called Splinters of a Song. This fanfic had a lot of things going for it - Tohma and Ryuichi pairing, a bittersweet kind of goodness, and an ending that I could almost see if I squinted at it in the right way. But I started the fic during a depressing time and the more I tried to get into that same mood, the more I couldn't. So the story just kept going and going and when I started trying to type a little more on, I had a hard drive crash. Then I decided to just scrape it off and go off to new things.
And then NaNoWriMo happened. As some of you know, NaNo is that crazy month where people decide to write 50,000 words in 30 days. I had been doing it for years and this time around I was going with an original story like always, but it did not work. No matter how many times I looked at the idea, I just couldn't care about the characters. So I decided to re-write Splinters.
This is the result. The first two chapters sort of follow what I had wrote for Splinters, but by the third chapter, it became different. The first difference is a big one - it is following the events in the manga more. The second part is that it has a lot more people in it than just as cameos. The plot isn't really here still but I think the story flows along like it should, with some crazy bits and some bittersweetness. I also used a lot of information gleamed from watching J-pop videos on YouTube and especially the stuff by AxS and Iceman. I prefer Iceman's stuff (I like the heavy guitar sound more so than all synth playing and Rin's timbre is more my preference than Hiroyuki's though they both are good singers) so some of the stuff that wrote itself into the story is based off of things I've seen in those YouTube videos.
There will be slash and straight pairings, violence, craziness, and probably a good dose of music. There will be high times, low times, and insanity in between. There will be friendships and enemies and did I say craziness? Well, there will be that. The title comes from the Pink Floyd song series of the same name, which deals with growing old and becoming dead. This is written in Ryuichi's POV first person style except this part, which is a prelude and a hint to what is to come. So let's us begin in the past and work our way to the beginning of Gravitation. Enjoy.
a 1, a 2. . .
He looked like a strong wind would blow him away. Tohma raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect from such an unassuming kid. Already he and Noriko had several possibilities lined up to fill out their band, all of them having some kind of spark to their appearance. This teen was scruffy but he also looked worn around the edges, the toes of his shoes scuffed, his tie undone at the throat, his hair mussed from constant finger ruffling. He was vaguely familiar as that quiet guy that hid behind a book and rarely spoke up in the class he shared with Tohma.
The brunet dropped a battered book bag to the ground and nudged it over to a corner, cleared his throat and looked at them. Again Tohma wondered about the wisdom of them even trying out for the Spring Festival this year. It had only been five months since Tohma met Noriko and they hit it off so well musically wise. They had plenty of time before the senior festival to find a singer for their band, but they felt it was time. The chemistry between them needed one last ingredient to make everything work before it all became a pipe dream and they went back to their real lives.
"Sakuma Ryuichi," the brunet said, bowing. When he stood upright, he smiled. "Second class age sixteen. You. . . you are auditioning singers, right?"
Tohma noted the voice quiet, soft, with good timbre but it didnt seem to have much staying power. But he was just talking. He could have a great voice once he starting singing.
"Seguchi Tohma," he replied, bowing as well. "Second class age seventeen."
"Inoue Noriko, junior classman age fourteen," Noriko piped up from her keyboards, winking at him. She and Tohma met in the Music Club at the beginning of the year, playing music off of each other and talking about what they would really like to do instead of going to cram school. One idea led to the next and now they were starting a band named after a type of cocktail Noriko's mother made them one time.
Ryuichi blinked, looking over at her and opening his mouth before snapping it shut. He looked down at his feet, rocking back and forth even as he ran his hands through his hair. Tohma and Noriko exchanged a glance and then Tohma held out a mic to Ryuichi.
"So, let's get started," he said, shuffling through his notes and selecting the ones with lyrics. He held them to Ryuichi who stopped his studying the mic to looking down at the paper.
"Um. . . I'm good."
"Are you sure?"
"I heard the other guys so I've got a good idea. . . although I think the words could use some tweaking. . ."
Tohma and Noriko looked at each other, and Tohma shrugged. It sounded a little weird, but if Ryuichi wanted to try singing without any help against their keyboards, then that was his choice. Setting the music sheets aside, Tohma flipped on the drum track. Noriko picked it up over her keyboard and added the guitar and a secondary piano track. Then Tohma filled the spaces, building layers of sounds around Noriko's tracks, building it all up to a crescendo of music to the part where the vocalist was suppose to jump in.
That was the real test. Only three people they had met that day could actually find the right cue, and out of that three, only one managed to have enough power to finish the phrase. Tohma knew he and Noriko played fast, and he knew it made things difficult for anyone trying to sing at their pace, but it wouldnt sound right if they slowed down.
Ryuichi caught the note, hit the right beat, and let his voice soar. He didn't break, he didn't lose power, and he built the words over their layers like he had been doing it for years. His voice still had timbre but now it also had punch, gaining an edge he never thought could be there. Tohma almost missed his next note, so startled as he noticed that Ryuichi actually was speeding up the melody making it fit better than what he had wrote. Noriko missed her entire next chord, so busy she was just staring at the brunet. Tohma couldn't help but stare as well, the way he gripped the mic and tilted his head back and growled the next stanza, his messy hair falling and shifting against his face. The tiny rehearsal room felt too hot, too tight and yet he was miles away, feeling that something had finally clicked into place that he never knew he was missing.
And then reality came crashing down hard around him and he was back in that tiny rehearsal room with dust motes dancing on the sunbeams coming through the high glazed windows, the final echoes of the music still echoing around them. Tohma's fingers shook as he pulled them from his keyboard and across from him Noriko was tucking her lavender hair back behind her ears. They looked at each other and then at Ryuichi, who smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.
Tohma took a deep breath. "Ryuichi, I think you're a perfect match."
1. . .
"Tohma? What are you doing here?"
Pausing just inside the small cafe, the keyboardist looked over the room, seeing the cheap tables and the messy floor before he looked at the brunet leaning on a broom. It had been just over a year since they've met and he still couldn't get over the differences between Ryuichi the vocalist, Ryuichi the student and Ryuichi the person. Right now, he was seeing Ryuichi the person, his lower lip slightly puffy from him chewing on it all the time, and his messy hair tamed back from his face by a headband.
"I've heard you were in trouble," he said, walking over to the singer. He could see the slight discoloration around his eye and a crack in his upper lip. "Ryuichi. . ."
"I'm fine," he replied, shrugging. "I got this from walking into the front door on my way out." Glancing over his shoulder as the cafe's manager appeared in the doorway, he went back to sweeping the floor, making trails in the days grime. "Look, can we not talk about it?"
"If he's hitting you. . ."
"He isn't. We've been yelling a lot but he doesn't hit."
There was a flash of something darker in Ryuichi's eyes, making Tohmas words die in his throat. The singer sighed and shook his head. "I guess it's a mote point anyways - he told me to go back to cram school or get out of his house."
Tohma chewed on his lower lip. "What did you tell him?"
"I'm grabbing my stuff after work and that's that."
Ryuichi swept the days debris out the door and put the broom away. He took off the apron and hung it on a hook behind the counter and slung his battered book bag over his shoulder.
"I'll take you there," Tohma said, already holding the door open. "And you can come home with me."
Ryuichi tilted his head to the side. "What about your parents?"
"They're in London," Tohma said, dismissing them with a wave. Ryuichi fell in step with him and he led the way to his car. Later, as they fumbled against each other in the dark, drunk on his fathers whiskey, Tohma remembered that dark look and wondered exactly who it was for.
2. . .
"Did you hear? There's supposed to be a scout in the audience tonight!"
Noriko bounced in place, her hair bright neon yellow and her lips painted a rich cherry color. Ryuichi looked up from his sketch pad, his face painted with subtle blues and greens matching the body glitter he rubbed over his chest. Tohma finished the curving line of liner under his eyes and tossed it into the bag holding all their stage make-up and shrugged.
"Do you think a scout would stay here through the whole set?"
Zepp Tokyo was packed full of people, some of them part of their following but most probably belonging to the night's headliner. They weren't bad, but Ryuichi insisted that they would not be the openers for this concert. Nittle Grasper was going on during the intermission as part of a small five band local talent display. It wasn't the best way to get noticed but it was like Ryuichi said they could either be known for being too childish or be known as a stand out act among other children. As always, Tohma wasn't sure why he said such things yet he went along with Ryuichi's ideas.
"They probably will stay at least to the intermission," Ryuichi said, glancing over at the clock on the wall and sighed. He put away the sketch pad and took out the last pieces to his stage gear - thin leather strips that he wrapped around his arms. Shaking his hands out, he flexed a couple times making sure the strips would stay in place and then went back into his bag.
"But would they stay to see us?" Noriko asked, gnawing on her index finger. "I mean, we're just a small time group."
"Do you think anyone can walk away when they see us coming on stage?"
It was true that they were a sight. Noriko in bright purple with her glowing yellow hair, Ryuichi half-naked and coated in body glitter, and himself in a green suit complete with a bowler perched jauntily on his head, they stood out. The other four groups couldn't match them when it came to style. Add their appearance with the sheer skills they had, well, Tohma was pretty confidant they would make a mark. He just hoped that a crowd this size would not drown them out.
Ryuichi pulled out a bright pink rabbit from his bag and stuck it on top of his head, posing as if he was holding a mic. Tohma blinked, and glanced over at Noriko who stared open mouth at the singer. He laughed and put the rabbit on the small table in their tiny room - probably once a closet by the amount of room they had and finger teased his hair back in place.
"Kidding!"
Noriko smacked him on the head. "What are you thinking? Who puts a plushie on their head?"
"It was a joke!" Covering his head, Ryuichi tried ducking behind Tohma. "Honest! My kid sis gave me him for luck but Im not wearing him!"
Just then the stage manager peeked in. "Hey! You've got sixty seconds to get ready!"
Scrambling for the door, Tohma had a funny feeling that there was much more to the plushie than a good luck gift.
3. . .
"Tohma?"
The years were good to him. He leaned against the railing in some hotel Tohma couldnt remember the name the early morning sky a cold backdrop for his slender form. He didn't smoke, barely drank, but before him, in this fall morning, Ryuichi was doing both, the air stained with his breath, and the bottle shaking in his hands. Tohma wanted to move forward and hold him, but he was scared to. He knew now more than ever how explosive his temper was.
"Yes Ryuichi?"
He turned, looking over his shoulder at the pale hints of light across the horizon, his profile stark and narrow and filled with sharp edges. With a start, he realized just how thin Ryuichi had become, at how sunken his cheeks had grown. The years were good to him, yet he was like a ghost of himself a thin shadow of the teen he remembered all those years ago.
"I think this is it."
Tohma sucked in his breath, and walked over to Ryuichi, taking the bottle from his hands and setting it down. It was true that they were no longer coasting off of high after high, that their music was getting brutal, and there was a maniacal edge to their laughter, but this being the end? It couldnt be they were still in top form.
"I can't do this any more."
Tohma bent down and tried to stop the words coming from Ryuichi's mouth. Under his lips, the singer felt stiff and cold and tasted of cigarettes and sake. He didn't bend, didn't move and Tohma pulled away, trying to see what he could not touch.
"I called Claude."
"Why?" Tohma asked, curling his fingers into fists, wanting to run away or pull this stiff cold Ryuichi into his arms.
"Because," he replied, looking up at him with clear blue eyes. "We should split before we break and lose all of this."
This time, when Tohma pressed against him, Ryuichi did not turn away.
4. . .
Three years. That's how long it's been since I heard the music. Don't get me wrong; America has its own music and its own method of doing things. I've heard their music and took it apart and put my own spin on it, but its not the place to go too far from the norm. They aren't good with change, and they want people to copy the going styles and not break free of that box. Even with K there I was still struggling, still trying to show them that the exceptions were good for them.
Weekly phone calls did not replace what I was missing. I could tell them what I was doing, play them pieces of what I was working on and just talk, but a phone wasn't a real person. I couldn't see their faces or watch them smile or hug them. How silly does that sound? I was the one the spotlights were trained on, standing up there singled out while the speakers pounded with the music. The genius singer Ryuichi Sakuma. Standing up there alone, untouchable, with millions of unseen eyes of worshipers trained on my every move. No wonder I would hide when the lights go out, burying myself behind a simple child's smile.
America was an eye opener in so many ways. I didn't expect to be so different that some labels refused to hear me sing. It reminded me of the effort it took with Nittle Grasper to get where we were back home. Of all the hours working at part-time jobs to keep myself feed, jamming with Noriko and Tohma the rest of the night and getting up the next day to do it again. The energy of being young and so optimistic that we will do that, we will get to the top. Losing myself inside that group, letting it shape me into a different person just so we would make it work.
Free of Grasper's shadow, I was able to find myself, or so I like to think so. Not 'self' in a musical understanding, but self of a personal understanding. The bits and pieces of my mind were brought back together and glued in place, although it took nearly a year of drifting to do so. I striped away the veneer of the genius vocalist and found my real voice again.
I suppose it was humbling to not make it huge. I did alright, and I had built a solid fan base that enjoyed all the odd music I was doing. Gone were the automatic number one hits and the platinum albums. I was just a regular guy with a good singing voice traveling across the huge country and trying to find a place. It was refreshing, liberating, and I think I did enjoy myself, playing smaller clubs or singing up for large touring companies. My English improved and I did a couple courses during a cold streak just for the kicks of it.
What was I searching for? Really, thats all it boils down to in the end. What was I looking for in those years?
I'm going back to the music. To Tohma with his gentleness holding an iron will. To Noriko with her mothering touch that never failed to sooth us. To me with my hidden sides that brought forth the music. I'm going home.
Even if home was no longer there for me.