Know what? I think it's high time I wrote a Gravitation fanfiction. And, since I was just at a funeral, I will use a common plot- Yuki deathfic- in a slightly different way. I'm going to try and induce this with heavy emotion, meaning, and symbolism. Put on your saftey belts, people, it's going to be a long and bumpy ride.
*Strawb-sama*
It wasn't true. It wasn't true. It wasn't-
He sighed.
It was true. All the disbelieving fans, all the shocked friends who knew him well, and all the numb ones who knew him more than well, knew in their hearts it was true. But love's advice is to not always believe one's heart- so why did all these people have to, regardless of how much love they had for Yuki Eiri?
To one Shindou Shuichi, that love was a lot.
He filled the one-person category of "those who knew him more than well". Likewise, he took the pain of Yuki's death the hardest of anyone. He hadn't slept in days. He hadn't eaten in days. Hell, when he'd gotten home from the hospital four days ago, when he'd first heard news of the tragedy, he'd sat down on the floor in the living room and hadn't moved from it since. With the phone beside him, pen and paper in front of him, there was nothing more he currently needed.
Shuichi gave a hollow laugh at that one.
And now they wanted him to do too much. He'd actually picked up the phone every time it had rung in those past four days, which was somewhere around eleven hundred. Hiro had let him know that he, Shuichi, would be doing the eulogy at his lover's funeral. Suguru had told him- not asked him- to sing a song for Yuki at the funeral. He could pick a song to sing, but had to write his own eulogy.
Writing was what Yuki had been good at, not the wide eyed teen. He sat there, amethyst eyes dull and emotionless, staring at nothing.
Finally, the boy glanced down at his work. He picked up a pen and hastily wrote out some inelligible kanji.
"Yuki Eiri was..."
No.
"When I first heard the news of Yuki's death..."
No...
"The tragic car accident that killed Yuki..."
No! Why wasn't this working? He slammed down his pen with a forceful thrust, shaking the unfallen tears from his eyes and sending them cascading down his already wet cheeks. It wasn't the first time that day that this had occurred.
He felt numb. He was in disbelief. It was as if somebody had frozen him in a block of ice- one expression continually on his face, one emotion constantly being portrayed. It was impossible to change it. And there was nothing he could do about the world outside of him- he wanted to so badly, but was forced to remain in his ice. And when you're cold, part of your brain shuts down and more or less ignores what you tell it to do. Shuichi was experiencing a great deal of this as well.
Why couldn't he have his Yuki back? What had he done to deserve this? He was ready to collect all the shit everyone had told him- about it being okay, he would get through it, to look on the bright side- and put it in a garbage can to dispose of it properly. Shuichi was downright tired of it. They didn't know. They didn't know.
"It isn't true... it isn't true... it isn't-"
*
"It's true," whispered Hiro to Ryuichi. "Kumagoro is pink, not rose."
Ryuichi glared back at his long haired friend. "Fine. If you say so. But Kumagoro says he is to rose!"
"He matches Shuichi's hair. He's pink."
The day of the funeral was wrong. It was all wrong. Shuichi had been expecting something gloomy and rainy, cold and all around horrible weather to be outside. But it was quite the contrary- bright, sunny, and unseasonably warm.
Weather sucked.
The funeral mass was about to begin. Since so many fans of Yuki's had attended, and a great number of Shuichi's as well, not everyone could fit in the vestibule where the beginning of the service took place. So it was only Bad Luck, Nittle Grasper, Tatsuha, and Mika who assembled around the casket just then.
The pink haired teen looked at the altar servers while Hiro and Ryuichi argued, everyone waiting for the mass to start. There were four of them- three boys and a girl- all dressed in red garments, standing next to the white robes-donned priest. They looked out of place and uncomfortable. Shuichi wondered if they'd ever been to a funeral, let alone one two famous bands attended for the death of a famous writer. He wiped his eyes for the third time in a minute, and felt Hiro put his hand on his friend's shoulder for support.
"Ahem," the priest finally said. "We are gathered here today to say goodbye to Yuki Eiri. Whether friend, brother, author, or-" he glanced at Shuichi "-lover, he will be missed. Everyone gathered in the back may step up to have a last look at Eiri-san. Please place your flowers on his chest."
Shuichi watched Mika and Tatsuha go first, Mika dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. They stepped up to the open casket, quietly said their respects, and placed their pink carnations on their brother's chest.
Next went Nittle Grasper. Tohma, Ryuichi, and Noriko solemnly addressed the sight before them. Their eyes were dry, but their hearts heavy as they too set the pink carnations onto Yuki.
And Bad Luck. As Shuichi went up first, he gasped and became weak at the sight.
Someone, whoever had dressed Yuki in his funeral clothes, had moved his mouth muscles into a smile.
He scowled through the waterfall his normally beautiful, happy, and full of life eyes were making. Nobody really knew his Yuki. He would have expected Mika, at least, to fix the problem. But, as Hiro and Suguru joined him on either side, he reached out to make his Yuki solemn. Like usual.
However, he drew back suddenly as soon as the tips of his warm fingers made contact with the lifeless skin of his lover. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't- it was like the skin of a doll. Cold, absent of all movement, and soul-less.
He turned and sobbed into Hiro's shoulder, throwing his carnation aside.
"They made them for me, Hiro," he said between sobs. "The pink carnations. They were to match my hair."
The taller boy glanced around warily, patting Shuichi on his pink little head. "I know, Shuichi, I know. Ssshhh."
"Why weren't they sunflowers or something, Hiro? My Yuki's hair is yellow. Not pink. It's not fair!" he cried out his last words, falling helplessly against his friend.
Hiro embraced him tightly. He reached over the boy on his chest and put his flower on the blonde haired body.
"I guess, in a twisted sort of way, I'm doing the same thing you are right now, Yuki," he whispered, smiling darkly. "We've both got a Shuichi on our chests.
"But look at you. You've got so much more Shuichi on yours than me. You always will, Yuki, you always will."
Hiro stepped away and used his friend's shirt to wipe his eyes. Suguru silently picked up Shuichi's discared carnation and put that and his own with everyone else's.
It was still and quiet for a moment, save the sniffles from Mika and Shuichi. Then Kumagoro, the mischevious bunny he was, snuck up, took Shuichi's flower, and moved it to Yuki's crotch area.
"What?" Ryuichi cried as he was hastily fwapped by Hiro, Noriko, and Mika all at the same time. "Kuma is just trying to ligten things up!" Hiro gave the childish man a glare and moved the flower to its proper place. The altar server children giggled in spite of it all.
"All right, my brothers and sisters. Let us move into the church to proceed."
A/N: Wow. I like where this is going- no, no, no. To answer any questions in advance, Shu will NOT hook up with someone new. This is simply Yuki's funeral, and Shuichi being sad over him- if your lover died, wouldn't you go to your friends for comfort in a non sexual way? Anyway, reviews are GREATLY appreciated. Feel free to IM me at SchizoPaperclip or email me at orenjiirosora@hotmail.com. Ja for now!
*Strawb-sama*
It wasn't true. It wasn't true. It wasn't-
He sighed.
It was true. All the disbelieving fans, all the shocked friends who knew him well, and all the numb ones who knew him more than well, knew in their hearts it was true. But love's advice is to not always believe one's heart- so why did all these people have to, regardless of how much love they had for Yuki Eiri?
To one Shindou Shuichi, that love was a lot.
He filled the one-person category of "those who knew him more than well". Likewise, he took the pain of Yuki's death the hardest of anyone. He hadn't slept in days. He hadn't eaten in days. Hell, when he'd gotten home from the hospital four days ago, when he'd first heard news of the tragedy, he'd sat down on the floor in the living room and hadn't moved from it since. With the phone beside him, pen and paper in front of him, there was nothing more he currently needed.
Shuichi gave a hollow laugh at that one.
And now they wanted him to do too much. He'd actually picked up the phone every time it had rung in those past four days, which was somewhere around eleven hundred. Hiro had let him know that he, Shuichi, would be doing the eulogy at his lover's funeral. Suguru had told him- not asked him- to sing a song for Yuki at the funeral. He could pick a song to sing, but had to write his own eulogy.
Writing was what Yuki had been good at, not the wide eyed teen. He sat there, amethyst eyes dull and emotionless, staring at nothing.
Finally, the boy glanced down at his work. He picked up a pen and hastily wrote out some inelligible kanji.
"Yuki Eiri was..."
No.
"When I first heard the news of Yuki's death..."
No...
"The tragic car accident that killed Yuki..."
No! Why wasn't this working? He slammed down his pen with a forceful thrust, shaking the unfallen tears from his eyes and sending them cascading down his already wet cheeks. It wasn't the first time that day that this had occurred.
He felt numb. He was in disbelief. It was as if somebody had frozen him in a block of ice- one expression continually on his face, one emotion constantly being portrayed. It was impossible to change it. And there was nothing he could do about the world outside of him- he wanted to so badly, but was forced to remain in his ice. And when you're cold, part of your brain shuts down and more or less ignores what you tell it to do. Shuichi was experiencing a great deal of this as well.
Why couldn't he have his Yuki back? What had he done to deserve this? He was ready to collect all the shit everyone had told him- about it being okay, he would get through it, to look on the bright side- and put it in a garbage can to dispose of it properly. Shuichi was downright tired of it. They didn't know. They didn't know.
"It isn't true... it isn't true... it isn't-"
*
"It's true," whispered Hiro to Ryuichi. "Kumagoro is pink, not rose."
Ryuichi glared back at his long haired friend. "Fine. If you say so. But Kumagoro says he is to rose!"
"He matches Shuichi's hair. He's pink."
The day of the funeral was wrong. It was all wrong. Shuichi had been expecting something gloomy and rainy, cold and all around horrible weather to be outside. But it was quite the contrary- bright, sunny, and unseasonably warm.
Weather sucked.
The funeral mass was about to begin. Since so many fans of Yuki's had attended, and a great number of Shuichi's as well, not everyone could fit in the vestibule where the beginning of the service took place. So it was only Bad Luck, Nittle Grasper, Tatsuha, and Mika who assembled around the casket just then.
The pink haired teen looked at the altar servers while Hiro and Ryuichi argued, everyone waiting for the mass to start. There were four of them- three boys and a girl- all dressed in red garments, standing next to the white robes-donned priest. They looked out of place and uncomfortable. Shuichi wondered if they'd ever been to a funeral, let alone one two famous bands attended for the death of a famous writer. He wiped his eyes for the third time in a minute, and felt Hiro put his hand on his friend's shoulder for support.
"Ahem," the priest finally said. "We are gathered here today to say goodbye to Yuki Eiri. Whether friend, brother, author, or-" he glanced at Shuichi "-lover, he will be missed. Everyone gathered in the back may step up to have a last look at Eiri-san. Please place your flowers on his chest."
Shuichi watched Mika and Tatsuha go first, Mika dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. They stepped up to the open casket, quietly said their respects, and placed their pink carnations on their brother's chest.
Next went Nittle Grasper. Tohma, Ryuichi, and Noriko solemnly addressed the sight before them. Their eyes were dry, but their hearts heavy as they too set the pink carnations onto Yuki.
And Bad Luck. As Shuichi went up first, he gasped and became weak at the sight.
Someone, whoever had dressed Yuki in his funeral clothes, had moved his mouth muscles into a smile.
He scowled through the waterfall his normally beautiful, happy, and full of life eyes were making. Nobody really knew his Yuki. He would have expected Mika, at least, to fix the problem. But, as Hiro and Suguru joined him on either side, he reached out to make his Yuki solemn. Like usual.
However, he drew back suddenly as soon as the tips of his warm fingers made contact with the lifeless skin of his lover. It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't- it was like the skin of a doll. Cold, absent of all movement, and soul-less.
He turned and sobbed into Hiro's shoulder, throwing his carnation aside.
"They made them for me, Hiro," he said between sobs. "The pink carnations. They were to match my hair."
The taller boy glanced around warily, patting Shuichi on his pink little head. "I know, Shuichi, I know. Ssshhh."
"Why weren't they sunflowers or something, Hiro? My Yuki's hair is yellow. Not pink. It's not fair!" he cried out his last words, falling helplessly against his friend.
Hiro embraced him tightly. He reached over the boy on his chest and put his flower on the blonde haired body.
"I guess, in a twisted sort of way, I'm doing the same thing you are right now, Yuki," he whispered, smiling darkly. "We've both got a Shuichi on our chests.
"But look at you. You've got so much more Shuichi on yours than me. You always will, Yuki, you always will."
Hiro stepped away and used his friend's shirt to wipe his eyes. Suguru silently picked up Shuichi's discared carnation and put that and his own with everyone else's.
It was still and quiet for a moment, save the sniffles from Mika and Shuichi. Then Kumagoro, the mischevious bunny he was, snuck up, took Shuichi's flower, and moved it to Yuki's crotch area.
"What?" Ryuichi cried as he was hastily fwapped by Hiro, Noriko, and Mika all at the same time. "Kuma is just trying to ligten things up!" Hiro gave the childish man a glare and moved the flower to its proper place. The altar server children giggled in spite of it all.
"All right, my brothers and sisters. Let us move into the church to proceed."
A/N: Wow. I like where this is going- no, no, no. To answer any questions in advance, Shu will NOT hook up with someone new. This is simply Yuki's funeral, and Shuichi being sad over him- if your lover died, wouldn't you go to your friends for comfort in a non sexual way? Anyway, reviews are GREATLY appreciated. Feel free to IM me at SchizoPaperclip or email me at orenjiirosora@hotmail.com. Ja for now!