Author's Note: Wow…I have been neglecting my post for the longest time!

It's time to write something new for Gravi, I was on an unofficial hiatus, I've just been so busy and to top it off, major writer's block.

As usual: I would really appreciate feedback and reviews. Be as harsh or as gentle as you'd like. I may not have posted anything in a long while, but I'm not new to writing, so I guess my being rusty is hardly an excuse. I'd appreciate it all the same. Flames are also good as long as they are constructive and have some kind of basis and truth to them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or any of its characters.

Warnings: Angst and drama.

Pairing: No pairing, Ryuichi-centric.

Fic Note: No real plot, once again, just a character sketch. Can be considered the prequel to Aphotic Solo. Set during the series, right before Nittle Grasper is revived. A bit ooc, since this is my interpretation of Ryuichi.

Also, watch out. I "made up a past" for our little hero here so…If you don't like the idea of that, well..then I guess you shouldn't be reading this? I don't know. You're the reader, you decide.

Credits: Kudos and thanks a bunch to Comtess, who beta-read this fanfic. I thank her very much for her help. If you like this fic, please go read some of hers, they are far better in quality. (Though you'll never hear her admit that.) Anyway, this one is dedicated to her. For her dedication at such a late hour (in her time zone, at least.) Thanks to her reading this fic live before posting, she was able to get me to finish this story in about a 4-5 hour span period. Longest one-shot in the history of my life!

Late Response

"What do you want?"

Such an odd question. He didn't know how to answer that exactly. He didn't even know why he was remembering that question now, of all times. At the height of his career, such a question seemed so pointless and completely random.

The question had come to him through a dream, and that dream was also a memory. It had been from a long time ago, that much he was certain of. Why he was remembering this now, he had no idea. Who had asked him that question, he had no answer for that either. Yet for some reason, he desperately wanted to answer it. Though he couldn't remember the finer details, he felt that whoever had asked this question had been very important to him at one point in time. These days, he had no one he considered very important in his life; that's what made this all the more important. Perhaps if he could answer the question, he could unlock memories; memories he had buried away for the sake of his singing career. He always forced himself to leave behind the past and look only towards the future, but this dream would just not leave his mind. There must have been a reason why he had remembered this now. He had to know. Which brought him to his current position. Lying on his fluffy bed, staring up at the plain ceiling and just thinking.

Thinking. This was a practice that did not settle well with Ryuichi's stomach. Every time he got around to thinking about anything at all, he would start feeling strange. Sometimes he would react violently, other times he would become a babbling child, waving about his Kumagoroo; the latter being the more familiar reaction. No one but Touma really knew his violent side-at least; from the extent of his knowledge Touma was his only witness. Everyone else seemed to know him as just plain Ryuichi-the bubbly inspiration that was only at times hard to understand.

There was only one window in the room. The sun seemed to be dimming out, and the room was starting to lose its color. If one could see Ryuichi's face at that very moment, he or she would probably say that there was something a bit off about the singer. They wouldn't be entirely right, but they wouldn't be entirely wrong either. In simpler terms, when a suppressed past tries to live on in the future, one would come out with the product of Ryuichi.

"Ichiro!"

Ryuichi flinched. That voice was very familiar somehow. He grasped the sheets at his sides tightly, so tight that he could feel his nails in the palm of his hand through the thinness of the fabric. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead, and his body was fluctuating from hot to cold. There was something about that voice that bothered him. A heavy feeling of guilt was tugging at his heart; he felt that he was supposed to remember this person. So why couldn't he remember?

"Why is this so hard?"

That voice again. The voice that seemed to be calling out to him, making him happy and sad at the same time-maybe even a little angry. Thump. He somehow landed on the ground, sheets wrapped all around him. Ryuichi was shivering. He could hear the voice more clearly now. It was a male voice, perhaps a teenager about sixteen years of age.

"Why do you have to be so difficult towards yourself?"

Tall, gentle but firm personality. Kind blue eyes that were always welcoming and comforting. Ryuichi wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew that this boy was older than him by perhaps only a mere couple of years, but he couldn't ignore this person's wisdom. He was a person that demanded respect and full attention. The more Ryuichi thought about this boy, the more he felt like he was treading deep waters that should would have been better left untouched. He scraped at the carpet, crawling towards the nightstand that seemed so far away.

He had to regain control. He had to put a plug in whatever he was uncovering. He wasn't curious anymore. A half-smile graced his face, turning into a grimace as he finally pulled himself up against the nightstand, opening a drawer and rummaging for something. Pulling out a bottle of pills, a sudden pain in his head gripped him, causing him to drop the bottle and bury his head in the floor, placing his hands over his head in order to somehow suppress the pain. After the pain died slightly, he slowly opened his eyes and tried to refocus his vision while his hands searched frantically about for the bottle. The room seemed to be swirling about, as if he were drunk. Frustrated, Ryuichi snapped his whole body back and pushed against the nightstand, causing the whole of it to fall over, crushing the lamp and telephone. The drawers flew open, papers, cds, and other miscellaneous objects to fly out of them. One object caught his attention. An open envelope with a picture sticking out of it. Ryuichi hesitated in all movement, perhaps even breathing, for just that one moment. Before he knew it, he was scurrying towards that letter, pain in his head all forgotten.

He held his breath as he held the two items in his hands. He was trembling. He only meant to take a moments glance at the photo when something caught his eye. It was himself. He was probably about fourteen years old at the time-how he guessed that, Ryuichi didn't know. He should have pulled his eyes away just then, but the other male figure standing next to him seemed to unlock something in Ryuichi's mind. In an instant, he was being thrown back years into the past. Even the room around him seemed to time travel along with him. Scared, Ryuichi backed up to where the bed should have been. He felt it, of course-since it was there, but he saw only the parking lot before him. This place was very familiar to him.

A weak voice. A voice tired from the world around him. "Forget the world, Ichiro. Forget about me, who cares what we all think? It isn't selfless to think of others-it's just plain stupid."

Ryuichi slowly found himself looking up in the direction of tha voice. It was so close now. To a sane observer, Ryuichi was simply just a scared looking man covered in his sheets, pushed up against his bed, staring off into space with his glazed over eyes. The perfect person to suspect for drug abuse. In Ryuichi's perspective, however, he was simply just looking on at the past. In front of him, there was a boy pushed up against the wall, crying his heart out. Ryuichi guessed that this person was Ichiro. The older male was leaning over the boy, looking stronger than the younger boy even though he was on crutches and appeared sickly. Pale blue eyes were staring into deep, rich, and watery blue ones. For some reason, Ryuichi felt a connection with both boys.

"Tell me straight. Stop stepping around the facts, damnit! What do you want?"

Ryuichi froze. At that moment, the image before him shattered, the shards breaking apart from the whole, and slowly fluttering down, the images of the two boys all broken up into little pieces and disappearing into the darkness of the floor. The room seemed to be engulfed in pitch black. Those words. All this time he had been pondering about those words, and that boy had said it.

The room was still dark. Suddenly, there was a soft beeping in the room. There was also a sound of soft breathing. Leaning closer, Ryuichi was able to make out the two figures. It was the same two from before, though the older one was almost unrecognizable under all of the wires and tubing attached. The only indication that it could have been the same one was the crutches at the side of the bed. And the eyes, those striking pale blue eyes that at one time had to have been a rich blue like the other boy's. Ryuichi was almost sure of it. The older teen was just tired, that was all.

He leaned in a bit closer, and suddenly, Ryuichi recoiled back. Those striking blue eyes were staring straight at him. It took him a while to register, but he understood the minute he looked at his hands. He was in that crying boy's body. This was only a mild surprise. Ryuichi felt like he fit, for some odd reason.

His next few actions came so naturally. Never had he felt so calm and practiced, the life he knew now, all actions were forced. His small hands were cautiously, gently wiping the hair away from the older teen's face. The teen's eyes were staring straight at him tiredly, but they looked at him all the same, as if trying to be strong and console Ryuichi, though he himself was in a worse position. Ryuichi couldn't take it. He had to get away. He turned to leave the room, trying to escape those sad eyes, when a weak hand grasped him around the wrist. Ryuichi was forced to turn and stare into those sad, helpless eyes that had been so strong when questioning him a few memories before.

"What do you want…Ryuu?"

Had that come out of his mouth? Ryuichi lifted a hand to his lips, and realized that he had indeed spoken. His brain was still trying to piece together this strange puzzle. So this boy below him, at his very mercy, was named Ryuu. That solved one mystery. Of course, the teen never answered. Ryuichi started to feel a sense of panic as the older boy's eyes began to dim out, however. Ryuichi tried to move away to get help. Something wasn't normal about this picture. The harder he tried to get away, the harder the older teen seemed to grip at Ryuichi's arm. His eyes seemed to be pleading, asking Ryuichi to understand something.

"This isn't funny, Ryuu! Let go! I'm going to go get help!"

The older boy's grip stayed strong, right up until the light started to quickly fade away from his eyes. Ryuichi was feeling frantic now. He watched in horror as the boy's eyes started to close, and the grip on him loosened and became icy. He froze. He stared at this boy below him, and he began to shake. This wasn't normal. Suddenly, he felt himself screaming.

Images were starting to flood in his mind. He was only helpless as to just stand there and watch, the icy grip still on his wrist, but not visible. The boy, whose body he was in now, was sitting all alone on the front porch of a school, all beaten and bloodied up. The other teen, Ryuu, was walking up towards him. The older teen was leaning down and comforting Ryuu, and seemed to be starting to form a friendship bond with him. The next memory was of the younger boy chasing the older teen into a dark alley. It seemed as if the older boy was trying to lose him. Then there was a scene of the younger boy learning how to ride a bike. Finally getting it, and then looking behind him in horror to see the older teen doubling over in pain. Then came the crutches. Then the medication. Then the hospital room again. The cold feeling at his wrist was gone. Ryuichi looked down. Nurses that had probably responded to his anguished cry were prying him away from the older teen. Their mouths were moving, but Ryuichi could hear no sound. Tears were flowing freely from his eyes. The only thought in his mind was that the boy had wanted this. This person, Ryuu, had wanted to die.

He had wanted to die. The room suddenly became silent. The room shifted back to normal, to the broken lamp and the nightstand that was on its side. There was a dull buzzing of the dial tone of the telephone, muffled by the stand. Ryuichi was still leaning back on the bed, and he was breathing hard. He threw the picture down that he had been holding, and put a hand to his forehead. It was hot. All of that insanity from one picture. After calming down quite a bit, his eyes looked down at the letter that he had been holding in his other hand. He hesitated. Should he read it? He didn't even know when he had received this letter, or why it had been in his room in the first place and yet, somehow he knew that in the back of his mind, there had been a reason for why this letter had stayed with him and hadn't been tossed or burned like the others.

He took the letter out, and read it. He was barely reading the words, but the story was as clear as day. The letter had been written after the death of Ryuu. A friend of his had mailed him the half of the story Ryuichi hadn't known, along with the picture. Ryuu had been part of a drug dealing gang. The image of the young boy chasing the teen into the alley clicked into his mind. Ryuu had tried to hide it. Ryuichi read on. Something was still missing in the story. He felt like he almost had a complete grasp on this, but he couldn't seem to catch it just yet. The letter continued, saying that Ryuu had gotten a pretty bad liver disease, something that was hereditary in his family. During this time, Ryuu had been ordered to deliver some goods to a client. This had been before the crutches. The deal went sour, Ryuu had run, but had been caught by the police because of the fact that the disease had caught up with him, weakening him. Ryuu had been left under custody until his hospitalization.

Heavy breathing. "Ryuu!"

Tired eyes welcomed him. He ran up to the side of the bed. "Ryuu! There's someone coming up here to see you. I met him at the front desk, he said he was a friend. His name was…Yamachi I think?"

The blue eyes widened, and then became ice. "Ryuu…? What's wrong…?"

Ryuichi blinked. It all clicked now. His body shook. He hadn't wanted to remember this. He had been the one to kill Ryuu. His best friend. His mentor. He had been that boy. He was Ichiro. He had come up to Ryuu that day to tell him what he thought was promising news. Ryuu had misunderstood Yamachi's arrival. The letter concluded by saying that Yamachi had tried to come that day to tell Ryuu that their boss was going to give them a second chance. However, from personal experience of watching failures come and go in the past, Ryuu had interpreted Yamachi's arrival as one of death. He would have preferred to kill himself than to die at the hands of someone out to get him for his mistake. Especially in his helpless situation. If there was one thing Ryuichi remembered about Ryuu, it had been the teen's pride.

Ryuichi dropped the letter. His hands went to his face, covering his eyes which were brimming with tears. When had he become so weak? No. He had always been this weak. He had just forgotten it. Forgotten it along with the murder he had committed. If he had waited just a few more seconds. If he had waited just a bit longer until Yamachi had come into the room to reveal his true intentions himself, then Ryuu would still be alive today. Ichiro would never have had to change. Ryuichi climbed back into the bed weakly. He was getting so tired. All of this remembering, all of this guilt, was just too much for him. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the pillow.

When Touma had first met him, Ryuichi had already finished burying away what needed to be forgotten. He had been seventeen, only three years after that incident. He had decided on one thing for certain, however. Though he would forget Ryuu, he would never entirely forget him. So when Touma had found him singing in a lonely bar, trying to make some sense of his life and asked for his name, he gave the simple response of Ryuichi. Ryuichi was never conceived. He was just one half of the original. Ryuu had always wanted to sing. He would have done it too, had he never have gotten involved in such bad company, of course, Ryuichi had no idea about why his mentor never followed through with his dream, until the very end.

Ryuichi sighed as he slowly drifted off in a state of half sleeping, and half being conscious. He was back in that parking lot again, but this time, his physical body was more relaxed, for he knew all of the characters in this story this time. He was less scared, and was trying harder to better comprehend his memory.

Ryuu had huffed out of the building where he was being kept custody to meet Ichiro. Ryuichi looked up at his friend, once so powerful, and now having to walk on crutches because of the pain at his side. Ryuu smiled at him. Ryuichi felt himself smiling back. "Hey, Ichi…" Ryuu whispered.

At that moment, Ryuichi no longer felt like Ryuichi. He was Ichiro again, for sure. In this one short moment, he could be Ichiro. The boy without guilt, without constant pain. He looked up into Ryuu's kind, but pained blue eyes. "Ryuu…"

Ryuu hopped over to his side, taking a crutch away and giving it to the other boy to hold. Ichiro took the crutch. Still leaning on the other crutch for support, Ichiro watched silently as Ryuu leaned in closer and wiped away his tears. Ichiro blinked, he had not known those had been there. Ryuu hopped back and smiled. "Always such a crybaby."

Ichiro felt himself pout. Still leaning on that one crutch and took out a box of cigarettes and a lighter, choosing a stick and then putting it back in his pocket. Ichiro watched silently as his mentor lit the cig with a flick of his wrist. He admired how a man in such an unhealthy state still had the nerve to smoke. He crinkled his nose in disapproval. Ryuu saw his expression and chuckled, still puffing away at the stick. "Sorry, Ichi. I'd quit, just for you, but it's a bit difficult when you're in pain."

Ichiro nodded slowly. "I understand…"

Ryuu smirked. "Good." He blew out the smoke slowly.

Ichiro tried hard not to cough. Ryuu looked at him for one moment, sighed, then threw the cigarette on the ground. He stared at it frustrated for a moment, and then rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at Ichiro sheepishly, embarrassed. "Put that out for me, would you?"

Ichiro's eyes became big and he nodded, quickly complying. Ryuu watched him and sighed. He grabbed Ichiro on the shoulder. "Ichi…"

Ichiro looked up at him. "Yeah, Ryuu?"

The older teen looked at him in frustration. "You can't do this forever."

Tears began to sting Ichiro's eyes. "I…I c-can't do what forever?" he stammered.

Ryuu's eyes became intimidating and cold. "This. Following me around."

"Yes I can!"

"No! You can't!"

Ichiro was slammed into the wall. The tears were forced out of his eyes because of the sudden impact. Ichiro's eyes widened in shock and surprise. "W-why not?"

"Because! You have to find your calling. You've grown up a lot, since I met you that day. Yeah, I admit, you needed someone to help you get out of your shell and start beating up the punks who beat you…but now you've got to stand on your own two feet."

"I can't! I don't want to!"

"Well you're going to have to." Ryuu's voice left room for no argument.

Ryuichi flinched as he was watching this. He understood this part of his memory a little better now. Ryuu had known something would probably happen to him in the future. There was no other explanation otherwise as to why this conversation even started in the first place.

Ichiro hung his head. "But…I don't know how. At least…at least tell me how to start!"

If Ryuu hadn't been so weak, he would have punched Ichiro's lights out at that very moment. "Ugh! Ichi!"

Ichiro looked up cautiously into furious icy blue eyes. "Y-yes…?"

"What do you want?"

Ichiro blinked. He missed something here. "What…I want?"

"Yes! Ichiro!"

Ichiro winced. Ryuu rarely used his whole name. When he did, it was usually because he was starting to get pissed, another rare trait of Ryuu's. Since their first meeting, Ryuu had been nothing more than patient with him. He had no answer for Ryuu. All he could do was stare.

Ryuu sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Why is this so hard? Why do you have to be so difficult towards yourself?"

Ichiro merely shook his head, unable to answer. He was slowly scraping against the wall he was backed up on with his feet, as if he could tiptoe backwards up the wall and escape this uncomfortable interrogation. "Ichiro…listen to me. Forget the world, Ichiro. Forget about me, who cares what we all think? It isn't selfless to think of others-it's just plain stupid. Stop being noble, Ichi. Protecting others was a job people like me take care of. You were not built for it, you were not made for it. So stop trying."

Ichiro gulped. Ryuu continued," So just answer my one question. Please. Tell me straight. Stop stepping around the facts, damnit! What do you want?"

Ichiro thought about it a moment. He looked up into Ryuu's now exhausted looking eyes. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, but there was no way he knew how to express it. He shrugged and sighed. "I…I don't know."

Ryuu hung his head and sighed in defeat. Tired, he leaned forward and did the best he could to try and bring Ichiro in for a hug. Still holding onto Ryuu's crutch, he melted into his older friend's embrace. "I'm sorry, Ryuu…"

Ryuu shook his head. "No…don't be. I just wish…I just wish you could tell me what you want…"

Realization hit. Ryuichi snapped out of his midway trance. He weakly pushed off of the bed and rested his upper body on his elbows, the rest of his body limp. He managed to lift his head and stare at the pillow's design before him. Staring at it a moment, his body then started to shake with laughter. Tears flowed freely from his face.

"What do you want?" Ryuu had asked him. All this time, Ryuichi had been thinking about it. It had taken him a full travel back in time, leafing back through his memories, to get himself to understand. He had wanted to be strong. He had wanted to be just like Ryuu.

The kind blue eyes that mirrored his own sad ones. The straight brown hair that countered his mess. The smooth demeanor that Ryuichi could only dream of mimicking. He could never be Ryuu exactly, nor would he want to. However, he had come such a long way, he was no longer the Ichiro that he or Ryuu had known. So who was he?

Simple. He was Ryuichi.

It took him only a few more minutes to calm himself. Slowly, he found the strength to get out of bed, and he crawled towards the fallen nightstand and sat next to the telephone. He hung up, and then dialed a number.

Three rings. An answer. "Hello?" it was Touma.

"Naa, Touma-san?" Ryuichi's voice was in its childish way, but very tired.

"Ryuichi? What is it? What's wrong?"

Ryuichi half-smiled. When he had forgotten Ryuu, and met Touma, Touma's words of concern were music to his ears. He now knew why. He didn't need that anymore. He would be the strong one from now on. "Ne, Touma…I want to ask something of you…"

"Eh? What's that?"

A pause. "Haa…Nittle Grasper…"

"Huh? Nittle Grasper? What about it, Ryuichi?"

"Hn…Shuichi is getting big, isn't he?"

"Yes…yes he is. I thought you supported that?"

"I still do but…Tou-ma?"

Touma hesitated on the other line. There was a reason why Ryuichi must have pronounced his name the way he had just now. Ryuichi had come up with an idea in the middle of the night. "Yes…? What is it, Ryuichi-san?"

"Nittle Grasper, Touma. We must start it again."

"…I see. The fans will be very pleased, Ryuu-san!" Ryuichi winced at the familiar name. "But if I could ask…why do you want to do this, Ryuichi-san?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryuichi spotted something silver. Still holding the phone, he leaned over and picked up the metallic cigarette lighter. He flipped it open, then closed it with a click. "Memories…Touma…just memories…"

"Oh…" Touma decided not to press his curiosity any further, "All right, Ryuichi-san. We'll get started tomorrow then."

"Hai. We will. Jaa ne…?"

"Mm. Ya. Ja."

Ryuichi hung up, and lay there, on the messy floor with the picture and letter in front of him, and the lighter he was holding up to his face. He clicked it open, and with the practiced flick of his wrist, let it light, then clicked it closed again. Ryuichi smiled and brought the lighter to his heart, curling into a ball and finally going to sleep normally, for the first time in a long time. A smile graced his face as he went off into a peaceful dream.

Ichiro was chasing his best friend again. "Ryuu-san! Ryuu-san!"

A healthy looking teen with a strong build, bright blue eyes, and no crutches but rather, a motorcycle, took off his helmet and got off of his bike. He smiled at the younger boy coming closer to him. "What is it, Ichi?"

Ichiro stopped midway, and stood where he was, cupping his hands around his mouth, leaning forward, ready to shout. "I know what it is I want…!"

The older teen said nothing at first, but then leaned back on his bike and smiled. "So what is it you want?" he called back.

Ichiro ran towards the older boy and hugged him around the neck. The other boy welcomed him and returned the embrace. "Well…?"

Ichiro laughed. "I will be strong, just like Ryuu-san! I'll make you very proud of me!"

Ryuu laughed along with his friend. "Stupid Ichi…I've always been proud of you…that will never change."

Ichiro smiled.

OWARI

Saiki.Kensuke.Yuuta: Sooo...what did you all think this? This was a prequel to Aphotic Solo, but I created it after that was made, so feel free to go back and read Aphotic again!

As usual, hope it was a good read! And hope to see you again!