This I Promise You
Sequel to: "My Heart Beats Like A Drum"
Building A Family series
Written by: Chochowilliams
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Summary: Could it be that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new neighbor?
Warning: M/M, Sexual Situations, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fantasy, Infidelity, OOC-ness, Language, M-Preg, Masturbation, Anal, Oral, Minor Character Death, OCs, 1st person POV (Chapter 1), Japan Natives: surname first
Pairings: Shuichi/Eiri, Hiro/Ayaka, Hiro/Suguru, OMC/OFC
Insert: Recap from Chapter 2, "Send Me An Angel" by the Scoprions, "Smashing Blue", "Break Through" and "Spicy Marmalade" by Bad Luck
A/N: Enjoy!
oOo
Last Time
He could picture all too clearly his young koi being mauled by that pervert writer's rough hands, groped by a filthy mouth and raped by a cock way too large for his Shu-han to enjoy. Who knows where that thing has been? The images of that beast pounding his sweet Shuichi into the mattress angered him, blinding him with a fury so strong it was nothing he had ever felt before.
He curled tighter, burying himself deeply within the covers and ground his teeth as the insistent creaking and hammering grew in intensity. Then he heard it, the worst part of hearing that pervert bastard making love to his Shu-han, their voices crying out in disgusting harmony before blissful silence fell over the building.
Uncurling himself, he glared out into the night, his face twisted in anger. "Damn you, Yuki Eiri," the man hissed. "I will make you pay for twisting and abusing my sweet Shu-han. He will be mine! This I promise you!"
oOo
Chapter 2: And on the Seventh Day…
Uesugi-Shindou Residence
Hearing that could rival a cats is what woke Shuichi at dawn; that and the fact that his internal clock was buzzing annoyingly. It was refusing to let him sleep a second longer. Sometimes he wished he could hit the snooze button like he used to, but over a decade of waking up with the birds had ingrained and trained him to be up at the same damn time each and every damned day.
A couple of good things came with this "talent". One, Eiri did not have to "wake" him up. Waking Shuichi up, in Eiri's mind, consisted of kicking him out of bed. Two, he could actually get to the studio on time, which meant he did not have to hear Suguru bitch and complain. Although, he had to admit, it was funny as all hell to rile the young manager and music arranger. Shuichi chuckled.
Manager. Shuichi shook of his head as he padded as naked as a jaybird into the bathroom. It was still a little weird to think of the younger man like that. It had been…Shuichi paused by the shower, deep in though…seven years now, or was it eight, since K-san left?
Shrugging, the singer turned on and adjusted the water. Once it was hot enough to turn the bathroom into a sauna, Shuichi stepped under the needle-like spray. Tossing his head back, he sighed contently as the water hit his face. Dropping his head forward, he suppressed a moan as the spray massaged his aching muscles. He had not felt this tense after a night of sex in a very long time.
A hot blush spread across his face as he recalled in vivid detail the events of the night before. There had been no gentleness, no sweetness, no desire for innocent love making in either of their systems last night. It had been an animalistic urge. That was the only way to describe how he felt. Unfortunately, one memory led to another and before he knew it, Shuichi remembered what led to the urge for the writer to claim him like it was mating season.
Paling, a shudder raced down Shuichi's spine. He hugged his arms about himself and leaned against the wall, shivering. The steamy bathroom had suddenly turned chilly.
The nightmare was nothing more than an obscure memory now. He could not recall clearly the intense fright that had consumed him. He could not remember what had been so frightening. It was just a blur at this point. Well, that was not entirely true. Usually he could not remember anything about his dreams, but this time there was something he could remember: a face.
Long and oval, his complexion so pale it was almost ghostly white. His nose was pinched at the bridge and flared widely at the nostrils to make a large triangle in the center of his face. Those narrow, dark chocolate brown eyes staring at him with an all too familiar hunger that made the singer squirm uncomfortably even now. The wide lips were tilted at the corners, imitating the gleam in those devious eyes.
Shuichi saw it each day on his way to work in the morning, when he returned home at night and sometimes it followed him throughout the city. That face caused Shuichi to break out in a cold sweat and cringe in fright. The world slid off its axis every time Shuichi caught even the smallest glimpse of him and not in the good way. It did not even have to be him. Just something or someone that reminded him of the man would cause Shuichi's stomach to heave in protest as it was doing right now.
"Oh god," Shuichi moaned. His insides suddenly felt as if they were roasting. Bile filled his mouth like a leaky faucet. Feeling suddenly lightheaded and dizzy, Shuichi tumbled onto the stool with his eyes squeezed tightly and hung his head between his knees.
Eiri and Hiro both knew how Shuichi felt about Rinjin-san and about how the man made Shuichi feel. Both agreed Shuichi's uneasiness over the man was unfounded. Because of the singer's history with overzealous fans, the two believed he had become used to jumping at shadows and had turned into someone that only saw the bad things in a person. Shuichi had been stalked, hunted, haunted, watched and chased. He had fans that loved him a little too much and others who just plain disliked him for one reason or another. So yes, Shuichi had become a little weary of people over the years.
To Shuichi, the one person that should be feared the most was the mad, psychotic fiend who appeared as normal, sane and in control as the next guy. Whether Eiri and Hiro wanted to believe it or not, Shuichi knew his new neighbor was not some gentle, kind man that should be invited over for afternoon tea.
The problem was how to explain his uneasiness. Unfortunately, he could not, not to the satisfaction of his lover and best friend anyway. It was why he always lied when they asked. It was the most difficult decision Shuichi had had to make in his entire life, but lying to the two people who meant the world to him was the only thing that he could do because every time he tried to broach the subject, they called him an idiot and refused to listen to his complaints.
Instead, he poured his heart and problems out to his twin cousins Shiro Kei and Kai and their half-American friend Michael Kagawa-Montgomery.
After K-san left to manage another band at America's XMR Records under the direction of Reiji several years ago, Seguchi Tohma allowed his young cousin, Fujisaki Suguru, to take over as Bad Luck's manager on a trail basis while still keeping his job as the band's music arranger and keyboardist. Unfortunately, the pressure and stress were too much for the young man to handle and something had to give. In the end, that something was playing synthesizer.
That decision left the band in a real bind. When, at a family gathering, Shuichi expressed this latest development and newest crisis, he was surprised to learn that his younger cousins along with their half Japanese-American exchange student friend had started a band and were looking for a singer. After a meeting with Hiro, Suguru and Sakano-san, the boys were brought in and given a screen test. They passed with excellence and the rest is history.
Unlike his boyfriend and best friend, these three actually took his worries seriously. Kei, Kai and Michael did not judge him or jump to conclusions. They did not slap him upside the head or bonk his head with their fist and call him names as if he was still that idiotic eighteen-year-old. They knew what Shuichi had gone through as one of the world's most recognizable people and trusted his judgment. Regrettably, like Shuichi, they had no idea what to do.
"He hasn't done anything,"Michael confessed once with a helpless shrug.
The twins had nodded in agreement with their friend's assessment.
"If you're right about him-," Kei would start.
"-unfortunately, there's nothing anyone can do until he does do something," Kai would finish.
That may be true, but by then, it might be too late.
oOo
Rinjin Residence
The sounds of Bad Luck's latest single filled the quiet of the apartment. It was a cover of an old Scorpions song. When the final cords echoed into silence, the sounds of an electric guitar filled the quiet as the song began yet again.
Let's spend the night together
I know you want it too
The magic of the moment
Is what I've got for you
The heartbeat of this night
Is made to lose control
And there is something in your eyes
That's longing for some more
Let us find together
The beat we're looking for
Blissful silence was one of the best things to hear coming through the paper-thin walls that separated the Shindou-Uesugi residence and his own. The next best sound was the tantalizing sounds of high pitched, snarling voices that snapped and screamed at one another. It was rare to hear that perverted writer and his brainwashed koibito arguing but it was like music to Yasashii's ears when it did happen. Every time they fought, he got his hopes up that maybe, just maybe this time would be the day his sweet, little nymph god would see reason and the error of his way and leave that psycho bastard. Yasashii would be right there to comfort the singer. He would let the younger man cry on his shoulder while he held him close and tight, their bodies pressed intimately together. He tried not to remember that every time they did fight, which they did like cats and dogs, they always ended up making up, which they did just as loud and rambunctious and with the same high-pitched, snarling, snappish screams.
The rhythm of love
Keeps me dancing on the road
The rhythm of love
Got the groove that hits the bone
The rhythm of love
Is the game I'm looking for
The rhythm of love
Is the heartbeat of my soul
Yasashii found himself growing hard as his pictured his soon to be koibito. He could see the younger man splayed on his back in the middle of the large feather down quilted bed surrounded by thousands of rose petals. Yasashii pictured himself standing over Shuichi who would draw his knees up and spread his legs in invitation, a soft look of adoration on his face as his stared longingly up at Yasashii. Crawling on all fours onto the bed, Yasashii would make love to his beautiful, angelic singer. It would be soft, gentle and sweet. He would teach the man what it really meant to be in love, to truly have a soul mate.
Yasashii was not aware of when he started it but as he stood in the cool spray of the shower, he found himself making love with his hand. He pumped, jerked and stroked himself with an ever-intensifying vigor as in his minds eye, he saw himself thrusting into the hot, tight cavern between his Shu-han's legs, hearing him moan and cry out in ecstasy.
Let's reach the top together
One night will never do
An exploding shot of pleasure
Is what I've got for you
Why don't you close your eyes
And let your feelings grow
I make you feel the taste of life
Until your love will flow
Let us find together
The beat we're looking for
A deep moan gurgled from his throat as with one last thrust, they were both sent crashing over the edge.
Yasashii stumbled forward, catching himself with a hand on the wall. Breathing heavily, he blinked and tried to focus. Masturbating to an image, a fantasy playing in one's head was not as satisfying as the real thing and Yasashii vowed that some day very soon he would have the real thing.
The rhythm of love
Keeps me dancing on the road
The rhythm of love
Got the grove that hits the bone
The rhythm of love
Is the game I'm looking for
The rhythm of love
Is the heartbeat of my soul
Let us find together
The beat we're looking for
Shuichi's voice faded into silence. As Yasashii stepped out of the shower, rubbing himself dry with a fluffy white towel, the opening cords poured through the apartment and the song began yet again. "Let's spend the night together…"
oOo
NG Productions
The sun had been up not even for an hour when the twenty-five year old manager and music arranger found himself walking confidently down the empty hallways of NG Productions towards the studio Bad Luck was scheduled to use that day.
Shuffling his briefcase under his arm, he covered his mouth as a yawn that seized him.
Fujisaki Suguru was used to waking at or before dawn. He had ever since his cousin offered him a job as the keyboardist for Bad Luck. He always arrived at the studio before anyone else and he was always the last one to leave. Over the years, he came to like and appreciate the peace and solitude the silence of the building gave him. It was in stark contrast to when the others showed up, especially Shuichi.
The bands lead singer was a character in and of himself. He still looked the same as he did ten years ago when Suguru first joined the band. It was as if the slightly older man had somehow found the mythical fountain of youth. The only thing that had changed was the man's hair. Shuichi had changed his hair more times than Jennifer Lopez had boyfriends. Cruel, but true. It had gotten to the point where everybody started placing bets on what Shuichi's hair would look like that day. When Shuichi found out what they were up to, he at first had been angry, but then he started playing along. Now he came in with the most outrageous hair colors and styles imaginable. Hiro, knowing Shuichi the best, usually won the bets, except for this last time. Nobody predicted Shuichi would go back to his original hair color. He had been all shades of blond, everything from white blond to strawberry blond, several shades of purple, aqua-blue, sea green and everything in-between. One time, he went as far as to stripe his hair like the back of a skunk. Suguru had to admit Shuichi was just as creative and imaginative with his hair as he was with his music.
Adjusting his briefcase, Suguru reached out for the doorknob of the studio door when the handle turned out of his hands. The young manager swallowed a squeak and jumped. His heart leapt in his throat. Sighing, he saw one of NG's janitors standing on the other side of the door.
"Oh! Gomen nasai, Fujisaki-san," the man cried out, bowing apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry!"
Suguru waved the man's stuttering apology aside. "Don't worry about it…Niwa-san, isn't it?"
The man's eyes widened. "Hai! Yes, Sir," he nodded, surprised and a little pleased someone of Suguru's repertoire new his name.
The younger man smiled and stepped aside so Niwa-san could exit the studio. "Thank you, Niwa-san and good day," he bowed as the man dragged a bulky vacuum behind him down the hall. Suguru shut the studio door behind him as he entered. Setting his briefcase on the couch, he removed his lightweight jacket and draped it on a hook on the back wall, thinking about Niwa-san.
He knew nothing about the man. Nobody did. The man was a complete mystery. He was a hard and diligent worker. He never complained and could put up with all the lunacy that happened on a daily basis at NG. That was a very definite plus for any worker that was hired at the record company, but still, Suguru could not place a finger on what it was, but the guy gave him the creeps. Like that meeting just now. What had the man been doing in the studio with the door closed? If he had been cleaning it, like the vacuum suggested, where had his cleaning cart been? Suguru had not spotted it as he made his way from the elevator to the studio and he definitely had not heard the loud, obnoxious thing.
Suguru snorted and mentally slapped himself. "Definitely spending too much time with Shuichi," he muttered with a disgusted shake of his head.
For the past month, Shuichi had been in one of his paranoid, schizophrenic moods and when both Hiro and Eiri stopped listening, the singer turned towards the rest of them. Stupid he had actually listened to his rants. Suguru hit himself for that now. Because of that idiot, he was now thinking everyone was out to get them.
"Stupid Shuichi," he mumbled as he took out the CD-ROM that he had copied yesterday's recording session on from his briefcase.
He had taken it home to work on it instead of staying at the studio as he usually did because by the end of the day, he had had the most painful headache. It had felt as if his head were going to explode. He wondered dryly what-or should he say who-the cause of the migraine had been?
The label on the front of the case read, "Send Me An Angel". They were doing another cover song for their album. He booted up the computer and slipped the CD into the drive. The sounds of an acoustic guitar accompanied by a light synthesizer in the background filled the large studio as Media Player automatically played the CD. Then Shuichi's voice filled the studio.
The wise man said just walk this way
To the dawn of the light
The wind will blow into your face
As the years pass you by
Hear this voice from deep inside
It's the call of your heart
Close your eyes and your will find
The passage out of the dark
oOo
Niwa-san heard the strains of the music blaring through the studio door as he walked down the hall dragging the vacuum behind him.
Here I am (Here I am)
Will you send me an angel
Here I am (Here I am)
In the land of the morning star
That had been a close one. He always knew that Fujisaki Suguru came into the studio before anyone else but it was not even six-thirty in the morning. What in the world was the man doing here so early? It was a good thing he had had enough sense to bring along the vacuum; otherwise, he would have been in deep trouble.
Sweating bullets, Niwa-san hauled the bulky contraption that was supposed to be a vacuum cleaner into the maintenance closet. With a last look into the hall to make sure nobody had sneaked into the building without him knowing and would surely overhear him, he shut the door and pulled out his phone. Flipping it open, he dialed a phone number he knew from heart and waited for the owner to answer.
oOo
Rinjin Yasashii was tucking his Bad Luck vintage t-shirt into a pair of old, worn out blue jeans when he thought he heard something over the strains of "Anti-Nostalgic", an older Bad Luck song.
Buttoning his pants, the man grabbed the remote from the top of the dresser and turned off the radio, the room falling into sudden silence. He cocked his head and listened. The peace was shattered by a lone voice singing a cappella.
Karada o tsutau ame ni
furueru awai omoi
guren no yuuwaku ni
samayou yoru ga akera
mabushi kiseki o irodoru smashing blue
His head shot towards the sound. The light on his cellphone-blinked green as Shuichi's voice repeatedly sang the verse of "Smashing Blue". He walked across the room and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. He recognized the phone number. He flipped the phone open. The singing stopped in mid-sentence.
"Kakei," he greeted. "How'd it go?"
"I almost got caught by Fujisaki Suguru."
Yasashii blinked, taken back. "How?" He sighed, shaking his head. That was stupid question. "Never mind. So, what was the problem?"
"Batteries."
"Are you serious?" Yasashii laughed.
"Yep."
"That's good. Thanks. Same spot, same time, same amount."
"Nuh uh! No way! If it had been something other than a worn out battery…I want two-hundred-thousand more."
Yasashii sighed, racking his fingers through his hair. "Fine, but only this one time. Next time, you're on your own and shit out of luck. Hear me?"
Kakei sighed irritably. "Fine."
"Good. Let me know what you find out."
"Yeah, yeah."
Yasashii flipped his phone closed and set it back down on the nightstand. Standing up, he crossed to his closet and grabbed a belt. Stringing it through the belt loops; he shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed his keys and cellphone before heading out.
oOo
Shuichi was not sure how long he sat there, his head between his knees, waiting for the nausea and lightheadedness to pass, but by the time he finally managed to lift his head and stand up without feeling as if he was going to pass out, the water had turned ice cold.
Knowing Eiri was going to be pissed at him for taking so long and for using up all the hot water, he quickly washed in record time. Five minutes from start to finish. He made a mental note never to mention how fast he had been to his blond lover. The older man would expect Shuichi in and out just as fast from now on, which was never going to happen again. Today had been a fluke. Who would want to stay under the spray of ice-cold water?
Shivering from the lack of warmth, Shuichi slipped quietly into the bedroom and threw on the clothes he had picked out the night before as quietly as he could, trying to give Eiri as much rest as possible. Because as tense and tired as he was after last night, the singer knew his boyfriend would be even more so. What was it he always said? The pitcher got tired during a game.
Shuichi chuckled as he slid into a pair of designer loose blue jeans that were worn at the knees and a white button down shirt over a tight black T-shirt that had a decal of a peeling skull on it. Without bothering with socks, Shuichi yanked the towel off his head and let his long black hair spill around his face.
He glanced at his reflection as he ran a comb through the tresses. Maybe it was time to cut his hair. What should he do to it this time? He would have to ask his hairstylist to surprise him. As he slipped on his watch, he wondered if he would have time before Suguru expected him at the studio to get it done. Even if he did not, he could always make time. They had plenty to do at the studio without him.
He slipped tiny diamonds studs in his ears and was securing his hair at the nape of his neck with a black hair tie when he noticed something on the side of his neck.
Leaning towards the mirror, he tilted his head to the side and glanced out of the corner of his eye.
"What in the world?"
He ran his fingertips lightly over it. A red-hot blush warmed his face as he realized what the mark was. Eiri had given him a hickey and not an ordinary one at that. He was used to having those all over his body and showing them off like badges of honor, but this time Eiri had done nothing less than mark him. The mark was the equivalent to having no trespassing signs posted all over your property with the warning that all intruders would be shot. Shuichi blushed deeply at the thought. Knowing his blond writer lover, Eiri would do just that.
Shuichi caught the huddled form of his lover in the middle of the bed behind him. His smile softened and a dreamy look settled over his face. Sighing, he crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on the lump, shaking it lightly.
"Hmmm. Do you have a death wish?" Eiri muttered softly through the heavy layers of blankets.
Shuichi laughed. "Eiri, I'm heading out."
"Hmmm," came the mumbled reply. "What do I care?"
Shuichi chuckled with an amused shake of his head. "At least, give me a kiss goodbye!" When the covers were thrown back, Shuichi gasped. He jumped to his feet. "Eiri! Oh my god! What's wrong?" His lover was as pale as the white sheets he was lying on. His eyes were red and glassy and his nose was running like Niagara Falls.
"What the hell do you think?" snapped the hoarse reply. Eiri shut his eyes, a headache threatening to split his head wide open.
Shuichi crawled across the bed on his knees. He placed a hand on his lover's forehead and cursed. "Shit, Eiri! You're burning up!"
Eiri flopped onto his back and with a dramatic moan. He flung the covers back over his head. "That's what happens when you get sick."
The singer stared open mouthed in shock at his lover. Eiri had never been sick a day in his life. The guy had an immune system to rival that of the continuing popularity of Bad Luck. Shuichi had no idea what to do. Should he call in sick and stay home to take care of his bedridden lover? Should he take Eiri to the hospital? Maybe he should call up Tatsuha. The younger monk-
"Don't even think about it," came the muffled retort.
Shuichi blinked. "What? I didn't-"
The covers were thrown back. Eiri pushed himself up and leaned back against the headboard with a groan. "You didn't have to say anything. We've been together for so long; I've developed the ability to read your mind. Not that there's much to read in there," he added with a smirk.
Shuichi's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Part of him was squealing like a schoolgirl to know that the love of his life knew him that well, but the other half wanted to slam the man into the coffee table just in spite of that insult. "Bastard," he cried out with a chuckle, lightly punching his blond lover's shoulder.
Eiri rubbed his shoulder. "You call that a punch?" He snorted with a shake of his head. "Pathetic! I've known girls that could hit harder than you!"
Shuichi fumed. Then he got a sly idea. An evil smile lit his face and his eyes gleamed in mischievousness. "Hard, huh?"
With a raised eyebrow, the romance writer watched in amusement as his small lover crawled over him and straddled him. Eiri placed his hands on Shuichi's narrow hips. "May I help you?" he asked with a sniffle.
Shuichi's smile grew. He shook his head. "Nope, but I can help you."
"Oh? How?"
"You said you wanted it-hard, right?"
Eiri drew his brows down, a mixture of confusion and anticipation battling under his blank face. "You think you can give it to me-hard?" He shook his head. "I don't know about that."
Shuichi shook his head, that evil expression still on his face. He stood up on his knees and shucked the blankets to the end of the bed. Settling on his hands and knees, he placed his face a hair's breathe away from his lover's cock. He glanced through a shield of bangs that had gotten loose and peered at the older man slyly, a knowing glint on his face. "I never said I would give it to you. I said I can help you get it hard."
Eiri gulped, already getting hard at the images his little lover was sending into his head. "You're going to be late," he squeaked.
Shuichi licked his lover's already hard manhood. He chuckled deeply when he heard his sharp indrawn breath.
"You're going to catch my cold," Eiri tried again.
Shuichi nuzzled his lover with his nose. "What's your point? If I get sick, we can spend all day in bed together."
Liking the sound of that, Eiri reached out and yanked the band out of Shuichi's hair, letting the long locks fall free. He liked to feel the man's hair over his naked body. "Deal," he said hoarsely. He grabbed a fistful of his young lover's hair as Shuichi licked his stiff cock.
Shuichi leaned back a little and licked his lips. He stared into his lover's golden hazel eyes. God, how he loved this man!
oOo
Yawning, Eiri stretched, working the kinks out of his body. Golden hazel eyes fluttered open. Flipping onto his back, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned towards the still form besides him.
If anyone called the blond writer soft, that person would soon find him or herself six feet under, but that was exactly how Eiri appeared as he gazed at his sleeping boyfriend. A tender smile on his face, he tucked a stray wisp of hair off Shuichi's forehead. Leaning over, he brushed his lips across his lithe singer's soft lips, still slightly swollen from their earlier excursion. In his sleep, Shuichi groaned and snuggled deeper under the covers, hugging the pillow tightly. Eiri snorted and shook his head.
He caught sight of the alarm clock on the nightstand over Shuichi's sleeping, nude form. It shouted in red, angry numbers that he had indeed made the singer late for work. Feeling pleased and ready to tease his lover unmercifully, he opened his mouth to wake him, but closed his mouth without saying anything, when he saw how peaceful the man seemed. When was the last time Shuichi actually had some good, decent sleep? Every night he had a nightmare or a disturbing dream of some sort. Then at least two times a week he had a night terror similar to the one he had last night. Shuichi woke so often, screaming like someone was attacking him that his bodyguards did not bother racing into the apartment with his gun drawn ready to fend off a psychotic fan or something anymore, which was what the men did the first several times it happened. The neighbors, thinking the same thing, actually called the police the first few times. Now it was so commonplace it became like the boy who cried wolf.
On top of the nightmares, Shuichi has once again been pushing himself past his own natural limits in order to finish Bad Luck's newest CD in time for its ridiculous due date, an album that not only was far from done, but an album Shuichi had been against from the very beginning. The singer was up every day at dawn, worked non-stop all day long and came home totally exhausted and drained late in the evening, sometimes not even until late into the night or the very early hours of the next morning. He would stagger into the house, without bothering to take off his shoes, and walk like the walking dead to the bedroom and drop dead onto the bed. Then of course, the nightmares would wake him up, interrupting the sleep he so desperately needed. The double whammy was starting to catch up with not only Shuichi, but with Eiri as well. He getting sick for the first time in years was proof of that.
Suddenly, Eiri's face scrunched up. He covered his mouth as a violent sneeze exploded out of his mouth. Shuichi shifted, but soon settled back down, without waking up. Eiri sniffed and quietly slipped out of bed. He pulled on a pair of black jogging sweats he found on the floor and left the bedroom, closing the door silently. He was going to let Shuichi get as much rest as he could. The damned brat needed it.
Crossing the hallway to the bathroom, he searched the medicine cabinet for some cold medicine. Finding some, he swallowed the pills and blew his nose with some toilet paper. After washing his hands, he went into the kitchen.
Propping the door open behind him, Eiri walked straight for the coffee maker, but another sneeze had him sidelining to the stove. Grabbing the teakettle, he filled it with water, set it back on the stove and turned the burner on high. He would like coffee, but tea was better for you when you were sick. He got out a coffee mug from the cabinet and then searched in another one for the tea bags. Finding the squished box behind a box of sugar, which Shuichi called cereal, he took out the last tea bag and placed it in the mug. Making a mental note to tell Shuichi to buy tea when he went shopping, Eiri set the mug on the counter besides the stove.
Sniffing, he cleared his throat and walked over to phone. He punched in a familiar number, listening to it ring.
"Konnichiwa, NG Productions! This is Naomi speaking. How may I help you?" came a loud, cheerful voice.
Eiri cringed. How he despised morning people. They should all be rounded up, slaughtered, and put out of his misery. How can someone smile so brightly and be so happy so damned early? It was not natural. "Seguchi," he snapped harshly, his answer to her morning bliss.
The girl blinked. "Excuse me, Sir?"
"Seguchi Tohma," Eiri repeated slowly. "I would like to speak to him. Tell him it's his brother-in-law," he continued in that same slow tone, as if he were talking to a two-year-old.
"Oh! Seguchi-sama! Yes, sir, Yuki-san!" There was a short pause. "I, uh, would love to connect you to the boss, but, uh...Seguchi-san has not arrived yet, Sir."
Eiri raised an eyebrow in surprise. Other than Suguru, Tohma was usually one of the first to arrive in the morning. "Oh?"
"Hai! You see, there was a terrible accident earlier and traffic's-" Naomi blinked and stared down at the buzzing receiver in her hand. "You're welcome," she snorted. It was apparent the rumors about the blond romance novelist were true.
Back at the apartment, Eiri dialed another number. He could always call the brat's producer, but he could picture that idiot's reaction all too clearly and that was something he did not want to deal with at seven-thirty in the morning. Then there was Shuichi's friend's and fellow band mates Hiro and Fujisaki, but those two would have similar reactions as Sakano, maybe not as overly melodramatic but still annoying as all hell this earlier in the day. There was that Japanese-American guy Michael, but Eiri did not have the guy's phone number. So instead, he called the brat's cousins.
The phone was answered after the first ring. "What?" came a snappish yell over the line.
Eiri blinked. In the background, he could hear the angry cacophony of honking horns. "What the hell crawled up your ass and died?" He assumed the Shiro twins were stuck in traffic, which Eiri could sympathize with, but he was in no mood for this shit.
"Eiri," Kei guessed. "What do you want?" he barked.
"Give me the phone," came another voice. There was a shuffling and the traffic noise increased in volume shortly before another male voice came over the line. It was similar to Kei's voice, but not as deep. "Hey, Eiri," Shiro Kai greeted over the phone. "Sorry. We're stuck in traffic."
Eiri thought back to what the receptionist was saying before he hung up. "The accident?"
"You have no idea," sighed the male. "So, what's up?"
"The brat's not coming in today."
"Shuichi?"
"Do you know any other idiots?" He sniffed. Behind him, he heard the teakettle start whistling. Not wanting to wake up Shuichi, Eiri marched to the stove and turned off the burner. Lifting the kettle, he poured the boiling water into his mug.
"Why? What's wrong? Is he sick or something?"
Eiri shook his head. "No, he's not sick." He set the kettle back down on the stove and swirled the tea bag around, watching hypnotically as the clear water slowly turned a dark brown color. He held the phone away from him as he sneezed. "Just exhausted." He sniffed again. Damn cold medicine was not working. Though he had to admit he felt a hell of a lot better than he did an hour ago.
"You alright? You sound terrible."
"Gee, thanks." Eiri took a sip of the hot liquid.
"You have a cold or something?"
The writer shrugged. He carried the mug over to the two-seater dining table and sat down. "It's Shu," he confessed.
The bassist blinked in confusion. "What?"
Eiri sighed. "Shu had another nightmare last night," he confessed. "He finally fell back to sleep an hour ago and he looked so peaceful, I hate to wake him."
"Oh. Is he okay?"
"I don't know. I really don't know."
"Eiri...I really think that you should-"
"I know," Eiri snapped. He knew exactly what the younger man was going to say. Truthfully, he hated the thought that maybe his sweet, naive Shuichi might be right. It was plainly obvious that the guy was not telling him something, something that was feeding these nightmares. Maybe it was time he talked with Tohma.
oOo
The green haired manager, arranger and sometimes keyboardist for Bad Luck looked up as the door to the recording studio swung open. He sighed in disappointment as the tall co-founder of the band walked in.
Nakano "Hiro" Hiroshi stopped just inside the doorway and swept his black eyes through the room. "Still not here?"
Suguru set his pen down on the table next to the open file that had the submissions for the cover of Bad Luck's newest album. Three had some potential.
A fan in Hong Kong submitted the first one. It was a black album cover with silhouettes of the band members faces. The second was from one of the employees at NG. It was a collage of the bands previous album covers. A local photographer sent in the third one. It was a never before released photo of the entire band-Shuichi, Hiro, Michael, Kai and Kei and even Suguru himself-taken not too long ago. They were all dressed in black suits, but each was wearing a different color button down shirt. Shuichi was wearing fuchsia. Hiro had on blue. Suguru was wearing yellow. Kai's shirt was green and Kei's was orange. They looked like a rainbow and considering who their lead singer was, it was somewhat ironic. Speaking of which, Shuichi, unlike the others, was the only one barefoot.
At the time this was taken, the lithe singer had white hair.
Suguru leaned back on the couch and shook his head. "Nope."
Hiro raked his fingers through his long reddish-brown hair, sighing. He glanced quickly at his watch before lacing his fingers behind his head.
They all agreed to report to NG an hour earlier so they could go over possible album covers for their next album, Forever Yours, but here it was eight o-clock and they still had not heard anything from their lead singer. Kai, Kei and Michael all called claiming they were caught in traffic and were not sure when they would be in. That was when they heard about the terrible accident. When nobody heard from Shuichi, they feared he was part of that twisted metal mountain, but a quick call from Tohma had their fears dying. If the singer was not part of the accident then he either was stuck in traffic or had "overslept". Everyone's guess was the latter.
Shuichi being late was not something new and it was not something they worried over. Oh, it got them all angry, especially when they had a scheduled appointment and they were going to be late. But Shuichi now had a cotillion of muscle bound baboons that could bench press a bus in their sleep guarding him. They usually kept the singer on time. Besides, Shuichi was probably on his way to the studio right now and just forgot to charge his cell phone, or add more minutes, which is something he has done in the past. Hiro could picture his friend walking through that door any minute now with that stupidly innocent apologetic smile on his face, bowing like one of those idiotic birds that "sip" water. He had better be. Otherwise, he was a dead man.
"He'll be here," Hiro said more to reassure himself then anything as he remembered pieces of past conversations with Shuichi. He, like Eiri, believed that Shuichi was over reacting when it came to that neighbor dude of his but now that his best friend was an hour late and had not yet called, he began to wonder...
"He better be," Suguru snapped. "Our album comes out at the end of the month and we're not even finished!"
"Settle down, Suguru," Hiro told the young manager. "You know that Shuichi likes to make a dramatic entrance. Besides, he used to be late all the time. Sometimes he came in over five hours late without so much as a phone call. He'll be here."
Muttering angrily, Suguru stood up. Hiro thought he caught him saying, "If he's not here within the hour, I'm personally going to kick his scrawny ass to Timbuktu," as he marched to the door. He flung it open with such force he nearly ripped it off its hinges.
"Where're you going?"
"I'm going to go see my cousin," he yelled. "I have some things I need to discuss with him. At least one of us'll get some work done." With that, he left, slamming the door behind him, which caused Hiro to jump. Moments later, the door opened again and in walked Bad Luck's bassist.
"Holy Mary Mother of God," Michael whistled. "What the hell's his problem? He just barreled into me as if I wasn't even there! Jeeze, he looked angry enough to pull the horns off a bull."
Hiro sighed. "What isn't?"
Michael looked at the man with a raised eyebrow. He slipped out of his lightweight leather jacket and put it on a hook on the back wall. Michael Kagawa-Montgomery was a Japanese-American who had been an exchange student at Tokyo University when he joined Bad Luck. A year later, he married his college sweetheart and now the couple had two little girls, ages six and three, with another one on the way. The guy had black eyes and blond hair just a tad darker than Eiri's that flowed in luscious waves down his back. He appeared as Japanese as the next guy did except for his hair. It was the only indication that he was not 100 percent Japanese.
One quick look around the studio had him guessing, "Shu and the guys haven't shown up, huh?"
"Kai and Kei are stuck in traffic and Shu..."
"Ah!" Michael nodded. He glanced at his watch. "It's only eight. Why's he so worked up over him being an hour late?"
Hiro shrugged. "I don't know. Truthfully, I think something else's on his mind. He's been a little distracted ever since I arrived."
Michael plopped down on the couch besides Hiro. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he put his feet up on the coffee table and crossed his ankles. "Why? Any idea?"
"None."
"I can't explain it. The guy gives me the creeps." Shuichi huddled on the couch with his arms hugging his knees to his chest. "It's like that feeling you get when you're home alone and you can just sense that someone is behind you, ya know?" He shivered violently. "I know you guys probably think I'm crazy for saying this, but I think he's out to get me."
It seemed as if Shuichi's paranoia was spreading.
oOo
The Shiro twins were only ten minutes away from the NG building, but it might as well have been ten hours for all the good it did them.
There had been a crash at a major thoroughfare. One car wanted to turn left and another wanted to go straight. Both tried to make it through the light just as it changed. The result was a mountain of metal in the middle of the intersection, but the fun had not stopped there. Because the traffic light changed just as the two brainless idiots hit. Cars from the other two directions slammed into them. It was a never-ending chain reaction straight out of Blues Brothers where the cop cars just kept coming, the pile of cars getting higher and higher. Now, it looked like a scrap yard had been airlifted and dropped right in the heart of Tokyo.
"Dammit!" Kei slammed a hand against the steering wheel. "This is ridiculous!"
Kai rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his brother. He turned on the radio, flipping through the stations so fast Kei was not sure how his brother could tell if there was anything good on, when a familiar tune caught his ear. He turned up the volume to earsplitting levels.
…ataru tabi ni tsuyokunaru kara
Kabe o nori koete kasoku suru
I CAN'T STOP LOVIN' YOU…
As the song faded, the radio station DJ hollered. "That was Bad Luck with 'Break Through' for Koji and Mayumi stuck in that horrible traffic jam in downtown Tokyo this morning. Let me tell you this, guys: if possible, avoid going anywhere near-"
Irritated, Kei flipped the radio off.
"Hey! I was listening to that," Kai cried.
"And I care because...?"
Kai glanced at his twin and turned the radio back on. He knew why Kei was so irritable. They have spent the past hour and a half in traffic behind an eighteen-wheeler that was shooting exhaust fumes into their car.
"-bonus track on this Two for Tuesday. Here's 'Spicy Marmalade'!"
The opening cords of the all too familiar tune filled the car, followed by their cousin's voice.
Spicy Marmalade
jidai wa marude
Urei himeta kao de madowaseru
Nani ni furueteru…
Kai leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes, letting the song lull him. He ignored his brother's grunts, growling and constant muttering and tried to block out the sound of his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
Hearing Shuichi's voice hit a cord in the younger Shiro twin. Frowning, Kai opened his eyes and stared blankly out the front windshield. He felt as if he were forgetting something. There was something he was supposed to do, but for the life of him, he could not remember what. "Hey, Kei," Kai called slowly.
"What," his brother snapped.
"Did we remember to lock the door?"
Kei blinked. "What? Of course we did! What kind of stupid question is that?"
Kai ignored his comments. "Turn off the stove?"
"Didn't use it."
"What about-"
"Dammit, Kai!" Kei slapped the steering wheel. "Yes! Jesus fucking Christ! Everything's shut, locked and turned off! God, what the hell's with the paranoid act?"
Kai continued to stare out the window. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's just...I feel like we forgot something."
Kei rolled his eyes. He then fixed them on the unmoving, never-ending line of cars in front of them. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he growled, "This is fucking ridiculous!" Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a reservoir in the middle of the desert. Turning the wheel, he tore out of line with a squeal and crossed over the centerline, dodging and weaving around the cars that had somehow managed to make it past the monolithic accident up ahead and were heading straight towards them.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Kai screamed. "Kei!" He had a death grip on the passenger side door. His eyes were wide in fright. His face was white. "Kei!" He screamed as Kei narrowly missed a semi.
Horns and squealing breaks accompanied Kei's reckless NASCAR jaunt across the street. With a hard yank on the steering wheel that slammed Kai into the door, and some fancy footwork on the pedals, the car spun and slid sideways into an empty parking space along the opposite curb from where they were moments before.
Kei put the car in park and shut off the engine. "We can walk to NG from here," he announced to his brother.
Pocketing the keys, he made sure his baseball cap was secure on his green apple spiked hair and slipped on his sunglasses. "C'mon," he told Kai as he got out of the car. He ignored the stares and whispering of the gathering crowd. He was too pleased with himself to care what anybody had to say.
Kai, pale faced, trembled violently. His hands still had their death grip on the door handle. He stared out the front windshield wide eyed. He could not believe what just happened. His brother could have killed them! He really, seriously could have-
"Kei!" he shouted angrily. Forgetting his cap and sunglasses, those things being the farthest things from his mind now, the younger Shiro twin threw himself out of the car. His red and white-blond streaked hair twirled around his face.
Kei gulped when he glanced at his brother. "Ah, shit," was the only thing he could say.
"You fucking asshole! I'm going to kill you! You coulda killed us!"
Kei laughed nervously and made a show of checking his watch-less wrist. "Hey, ah, look at the time! Fujisaki'll have our hides if we don't hurry." He tore off the down the street, bumping and running into one pedestrian after another. Angry shouts followed him down the street.
Kai, usually the calm and levelheaded one gave an angry cry and raced after his brother. "Come back here! You ingrate!" As the two boys ran towards NG, that "something" that had seemed so important just moments before was left at the curb right along with the car.
oOo
Uesugi-Shindou Residence
The leather chair squeaked as Eiri sat back, sighing heavily. Taking off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.
Slipping his glasses back on, he stared at the computer screen. He cringed when he reread what he wrote. Definitely too much cheese. People would start thinking he was a soft hearted, emotional fool. They already believed he was one of the most romantic men in the world because of his books. If he left what he just wrote in, his reputation would only get worse. The fact that what everybody said about him was true was beside the point.
Highlighting the text, he was about to hit "delete" when a buzzing sound gave him pause. He blinked and glanced at his phone. The small cellphone danced across the desktop. The blinking green light illuminated the side of his laptop. He had turned off the ringers to all the phones in the apartment, including their cellphones because Shuichi needed as much sleep as he could get. There was no way in hell he was going to let anything wake Shuichi up. Eiri blinked at that thought. "Wow, over-protective much," he muttered to himself. Grabbing his phone before it vibrated right off the desk; he glanced at the familiar number on the caller ID. "About time," he grumbled. Flipping the phone open, he snapped, "Where the hell've you been?"
"Good morning to you, too, Eiri," came the soft voice over the line.
"I've been trying to reach you all goddamned morning!"
"So, I've heard," Tohma sighed. "Eiri, you really have to learn to-"
"Save it, Tohma! I'm not in the mood!" Sniffing, the writer cleared his throat sharply. He reached for his cup and drained the rest of the sweet liquid.
"Eiri? Are you alright?"
Setting his empty cup on the desk, Eiri said, "Fine." He cleared his throat and then coughed into the crook of his arm. He asked his sister's husband where he has been all morning.
"Well, I didn't get into the office until eight-thirty because of the accident-"
Eiri snorted. Wow! A whole half hour before anyone else, well, except for Fujisaki but that did not count.
"Then Ryuichi, Noriko and I had a photo shoot and an interview for a music magazine. When I finally came into the office, I had a short meeting with Suguru. Apparently, Shindou's paranoia is contagious."
"I could have told you that," Eiri snorted.
"In ten minutes, I have one of several meetings that'll take up the rest of the day."
"You're a busy guy, Tohma."
The man chuckled. "Not only do I run NG, I'm also one of the top producers-"
The writer snorted again. "If you do say so yourself," he muttered.
"-and Nittle Grasper is still one of the top bands in Japan," he continued as if Eiri had not spoken.
"Ya know, it'd be very helpful if one of Japan's top keyboardists had a cellphone," Eiri suggested sarcastically.
Actually, the man did have a cellphone. Or more appropriately, Tohma used to have one up until yesterday that is when it mysteriously vanished. When Eiri learned the usually clam, cool, collected and in control man misplaced a cellphone, he actually burst out laughing. Anyone would find it amusing to learn that a man who knew everything about everything did not know where a small electronic device was. Just thinking about it had the writer chuckling.
"I do."
The laughter died on Eiri's lips. "Really," he asked, sounding doubtful.
"Traffic was so bad, I was able to run into the electronic store and buy one."
"Uh huh. It would've been nice to know that earlier."
"You really wanted me that bad, huh," Tohma teased.
Eiri rolled his eyes and snorted. "You wish."
Tohma's chuckle sounded in Eiri's ear. "What did you want to talk with me about?"
"Shuichi."
"You catch a bad case of paranoia as well?" Tohma teased.
"You could say that," Eiri deadpanned.
"Oh?" Tohma inquired, sobering.
"I want you to do something for me."
"Name it."
oOo
NG Productions
"No, Nakano-san, he hasn't," the front receptionist said.
Hiro sighed. "Thanks, Naomi-chan." He flipped his phone closed.
Suguru stared at the Bad Luck guitarist. "No luck?"
Shaking his head, Hiro again sighed. It was ten o'clock and Shuichi had yet to make an appearance, let alone call. The mess from the earlier accident had been cleared away and traffic had finally gotten back to normal. Michael, Kei and Kai managed to come in almost two hours ago. Therefore, there was no way Shuichi could be stuck in traffic. That left two options; one, Shuichi had overslept and would be in any time now, or two…
That was something he did not want to think about.
There was a problem with the first option though. If Shuichi was indeed at home, why was he not answering the phone? When, by nine o'clock, the singer still had not arrived, Hiro started calling the apartment Shuichi shared with Yuki-san, but there has been no answer. That could be because the two life partners were currently "preoccupied" and could not hear the phone or…
Once again, that thought was left unfinished.
He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to get a little worried about his best friend. In an instant, the decision was made. Hiro clipped his phone onto his belt and grabbed his jacket.
"Hiro? Where're you going?" Suguru demanded. "We have a deadline-"
"I know," Hiro told his manager and close friend. "I'm just going to drag Shu out of bed." He yanked open the door and gasped, jumping when he came face to face with Michael, Kei and Kai. "Scared the shit out of me," Hiro breathed, placing a hand over his racing heart.
"Got the coffee," the bassist announced, holding up a cup tray. Michael glanced around the studio as he and the others walked inside. "Shu's not here, yet?"
Kai, who had been walking towards the couch, stopped dead in his tracks as once again he got that nagging feeling that he was forgetting something. It was like trying to grab smoke.
Suguru sighed and shook his head. "I'm just glad Sakano-san is busy helping Predilection with their debut album right now. If he were to find out our singer was over three hours late, he'd have a conniption."
The others agreed.
"Hey, Hiro," Kei called after Hiro as the man stalked off down the hallway. "Where're you going?"
"Out."
Kei exchanged a glance with the others. Kai watched as the man vanished into an elevator. That anxious feeling continued persistently. He wished he could remember what it was he was supposed to do. It was driving him insane!
oOo
Uesugi-Shindou Residence
After hanging up the phone, Eiri wracked his fingers through his hair. Clasping his hands behind his head, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. He really could not believe he was even considering the slight possibility that this was more than just a product of Shuichi's overstressed overactive imagination. Part of him hoped Tohma found nothing and thus able to lay Shuichi's fears to rest. The other part was not so sure anymore that this was nothing.
His head snapped around when he heard a light rapping on the study door. Before he could say anything, the door creaked open.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
His ashen haired son threw open the door wider and crept inside. "Is Mama awake yet?"
"Not yet." Eiri tipped his head back and gazed back up at the ceiling. Directly above his study was the master bedroom. It was too bad he did not have x-ray vision. He would love to see the look on Shuichi's face when he woke up from his nap.
…To Be Continued…
Preview: "Toki wo Koetai"