Drifting Souls

a Gravitation fic by

Mitsukai

'Souls are strange beings. The move where they will and are yet confined within the contours of the body. Greeks thought the body the temple of the soul, where it dwelt freely. During the middle ages, it was thought that the body was the prison of the soul. It is hard to tell which is correct, in this day in age, though it seems to be elements of both. Yet when bouncing around on the pinball board of life and existence, certain souls find and attract others. There is no pattern in these kindred souls, perhaps they belong to man and woman, man and man, woman and woman, human and animal; each attraction and bonding is a special thing. In strange instances when a group of souls are brought together by one...

It is called Gravitation.'



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Chapter V - Promises, Like Pie Crusts

Were Made to be Eaten

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Wide eyed Sakuma Ryuichi stood up on stage, waving energetically to the hundreds of ecstatic fans. Or more probably, at the pink-haired fan and rival in the front row, who was waving back. Waving was an understatement, almost like to make his arm fly off and land somewhere in the next district. Hikari poked Shuichi's arm slightly, and motioned toward NG's president, at the keyboard behind Ryuichi.

"How on earth does he have time for both Nittle Grasper and his work as president?" she called inquisitively over the screaming of the rabid crowd. He was about to turn and offer a guess when the person in question hit the start of the song, and Shuichi's train of thought hit a couch, crashing whatever he may have been about to say, and returning his rapt attention to the gifted vocalist on stage.

Knowing that her question was not going to be answered, Hikari formed an answer of her own. 'He doesn't,' she thought, her empty, crystalline gaze, like every other person's in the stands, fixed on Ryuichi. 'He doesn't have time. All that paperwork I saw before, it must be because he's living two lives where everyone else only needs to live one. After all, how would you find time in one life to live another, when you're already living?' Soon, her mental wanderer got lost, she began to confuse herself, and her attention once more was fully focused on the performance.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was no longer Sakuma Ryuichi. Or maybe... now he was. The cue came, and he was suddenly flying by instinct; lyrics expelled from somewhere within, like a cocoon which had suddenly decided it was time to become something greater. The change hit the cellist like a few tons of feathers; it was exactly as heavy as a few tons of bricks, but... softer. This was the huge-eyed, childlike man who had touched her cello, and asked if it had died when the golden strangs of music had ceased to flow from its veins? Somehow, somewhere, she believed it, and soon began to be aware of the music that was blasting and pulsing around them. Again, as before, she didn't know she was keeping the beat personally until Hiro put his hand gently on the shorter woman's head in an effort to keep her from bouncing incessantly. However, after a few moments, she was doing it again; Hikari was soon given up as a lost cause.

Even the normally sedate Fujisaki was tapping a foot, with the hint of a smile on his normally serious face. Shuichi on the other hand, was watching all this with a completely blank and serious expression. Even after so many times, hearing Sakuma-san sing was a deterring blow to his reality that he could never seem to ward against, no matter how many times he heard. Within himself, he began to feel very small, a cat in a world of people with clunking feet that always seemed to land on his poor and abused tail. Somehow, the pink-haired vocalist always found himself fighting a private internal war with his friend, in which he was always a casualty, no matter how hard he tried not to be.

To Shuichi, Sakuma-san seemed to sing silently on stage, almost as if he were in a bubble away from the threads of rhythm, weaving themselves into a tapestry of sound before his violet eyes. It was so tangible that he almost raised his arm to feel the texture that he could feel throbbing as a beat within his enclosed mind. When it had stopped, it took him a few minutes to realize that it had done so, the only inclination being that Hiro was staring at him with a curious expression on his face, a mix between worry and recognition, and both Fujisaki and Hikari had indescribable looks on their faces.

Shuichi waved weakly, still in a soundless world, trying to tell them that he was fine, but even to him his smile seemed over forced. 'What's wrong with me?' he asked mournfully to himself, letting his head dip forward ever so slightly, his wine coloured locks falling foreward to obscure his face. 'I should be happy that Sakuma-san is my friend, and that he's doing so well... and that we're doing so well. Why can't I let it go?' His mental interrogation wasn't going so well, as was expected.

Hikari was still looking at him though.

What did she know about him that he didn't?

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Shuichi followed behind the rest of the group, his unnerving silence as he crouched within himself throwing the mood of the others into a momentary stupor. Hikari wondered silently again what could have thrown Shindou-san into such a state. Normally he was fairly bubbling, like an elixer of life merged irrevocably with seltzer water, pulling everyone into his energetic cyclone with nary a glance to see what he had left behind, always looking towards the horizons.

They made their way around the side of the stage, in the general direction of the van that would end this miraculous day that seemed to have lasted forever. Day had given way to night, and the moon hung like a forever luminous orb above them, filling the sky with an almost supernatural light. Stars glowed like tiny pinprick holes in black construction paper with a light shining behind the enveloping sheet. Shuichi's feet dragged slowly, along with the passage of time, and his amethyst eyes glowed darkly behind the curtain of enveloping hair that kept his expression a precious and valuable secret. Suddenly, his foot came in contact with the smaller booted foot of another. He looked up questioningly to see the serious, dark eyes of one Yamashika Hikari looking thoughtfully at him.

"It was Sakuma-san, wasn't it...?" She asked, looking up into the sky, a light cool wind whipping at her hair that was tinted ebon by the night sky. "Why do you retreat within yourself now?" she prodded further, and he idly grasped at a strand of his own hair. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and looked down. He could see her inky boot turn on its heel, yet hesitated, as if inviting him to come walk alongside. Silently, he let himself follow the cellist, and looked up at the rest of the group who had almost reached the van. He wouldn't let himself answer her questions, because he didn't know himself what the answers were. Strange questions, and stranger answers; those were the only thing that ran about in his mind, searching everywhere in vain.

She examined the ground ahead of her, black asphalt hard to distinguish from her footwear. Another gust of wind prompted her to place her hands in the pockets of her black trenchcoat, though the fabric didn't do much to keep them warm. They walked together in silence, Hikari content that she would not get an answer from Shuichi. Eventually they reached the others, but nothing was passed between them but a searching glance from Fujisaki's dark brown eyes, and upon finding nothing, that too was withdrawn. Everyone got in, arranging themselves into comfortable positions. Shuichi leant back into the seat, keeping his head down. For some reason he knew not, he was sedate. What had happened this time that he knew, yet did not know about?

The engine rumbled as it started up, and Sakano pulled the van out of its space, and gently guided it towards another path.

Far behind, a pair of sapphire eyes glinted in the shadows, the mind behind them pondering the same questions the woman had put to his friend. A gloved hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder, and the silent one looked up to see Tohma standing there. The keyboardist nodded slightly at the leaving van, before turning to go... Noriko was waiting.

"Ryuuichi." He said, simply, the name carrying more meaning than an entire sentence would have. The famous vocalist nodded as well, and looked up at the luminous moon for a moment, before pulling a familiar stuffed bunny from his jacket, and huggingly it tightly. The light from the stars and moon glinted off the black beaded eyes of Kumagoro, and Ryuuichi understood.

Then he turned to follow Seguchi Tohma.

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They were back in the van, and Shuichi in his psuedo-recovered state was having a staring contest with Hiro. Unfortunately for the pink-haired participant... he was the only one participating. K-san was staring thoughtfully ahead onto the dark road, lit only by the headlights of the band's van which Sakano-san was driving, Fujisaki was looking out the window, and Hikari was thinking; again.

Suddenly, a thread of an earlier conversation wound its way around her mind... and then tightened.

"Ah, Shindou-san! You promised Yuki-san that you would be back early for dinner!" she blurted out suddenly, sitting up and looking at him. Shuichi blinked, was immediately declared the loser of the contest, and gaped. His inner child took a vicious kick at the swing. Several times in succession.

"Shimatta!" he exclaimed, before immediately beginning to chew tearfully on a random object. "Now he'll be angry at me~!" then he gasped, and covered his mouth with his hand, beginning to chew on his palm. "I already ate dinner!" posing valiently with the inner skin of his palm locked between his teeth, he swore on his life to eat it again, and commenced goading Sakano-san. "Sakano-san, go faster, Ipromised Yuki I'd be back for dinner!"

After five and a half minutes of absolute and incomparable agony, the van filled to the brim with the rant of a certain boy plus several performers and an instrument pulled up outside the building. The door slammed open and Shuichi leaped out, dragging a hapless cellist and her instrument along with him. The hapless cellist sighed, wondering if she would ever get back to her hotel room, and allowed herself to be pulled along. 'Well,' she thought, 'at least he has pulled out of his stupor.'

"Don't worry Yuki!" he called down the hall, as he fumbled for his key. He could hear footsteps on the other side of the door and he quickly pulled the key from the lock, determined to glomp the unwary writer into whatever wall was nearest.

The door opened with a click, and before the opener could say anything, he found himself pinned to the floor by an armful of Shuichi.

"Yuuuuu-ki!" Thud went two bodies onto the floor. Hikari raised an eyebrow, and stopped herself willfully from scratching her head.

"Shindou-san... I don't believe that's Yuki-san." For indeed, it wasn't. The overly genki vocalist had nearly concussed the indended receiver's brother. Shuichi blinked several times, and then double-taked.

"If this isn't Yuki... then... Where's Yuki!" Upon quickly reaching this super-important statement, he quickly super-deformed and began to search the house, abandoning the knocked out Tatsuha. Hikari gently set her cello down in the corner, sighed, and then reconciled herself to the task of making sure this case of mistaken identity was solved. She sat down to one side of the, fallen man, raied an eyebrow, and then waited.

And waited.

Meanwhile, Shuichi was chewing off his nails as fast as he could grow them, which was pretty slow. He had checked every room, but there was no sign of his lover anywhere. Now he all but 'knew' Yuki was angry with him.

The folorn vocalist curled up tightly on the couch, like a tired dog waiting for its master to come home. He traced little circles on the black leather, and as if from far away could hear the slight tapping noise as Hikari undoubetedly patted Tatsuha's hand to try and wake him up.

Finally, stirred and sat up with a groan. Tatsuha reached up to feel the back of his head, and winced when his fingers came in contact with a rather large, and uninvited, bump. His sight was a little fuzzy from his contact with the floor, and felt himself being supported by another person. Wincing, he turned his head slightly, feeling uninclined to move at all. Surprised, and with his unclear vision, he saw his sister helping him up.

"Mika?" He asked groggily, he squinted at her, his vision slowly returning. The cellist chuckled. She would have to meet this Mika person everyone kept mistaking her for. Tatsuha shook his head a little, wincing as he did so. "You shrunk..." He said, looking confused as Hikari ushered him over to a chair in the kitchen, pulling it out. He sat down, and rubbed his head. "What happened?"

"Shindou-san thought you were Yuki-san, and he pounced you into the floor." she replied, hunting through the cuboards for a teapot and some cups. She was unfamiliar with the kitchen, and so it took her almost ten minutes to find the items she had wanted. She then set about preparing some tea. During these minutes, the lumped man had figured out that she wasn't his sister. After all, she had called his aniki 'Yuki-san.' Last he'd checked, no one he knew save Ayaka-ojousama called his brother that; and this was definitely not Ayaka. Of course, the question on everyone's mind today was... who was she?

A cup of tea was slid into his field of vision, and he looked up to see that this strange young woman had indeed made tea. He sipped the bitter liquid with a grimace. Though it dulled the throbbing at the back of his head, it tasted quite bitter. He decided it was medicinal, and rather than prolonging such punishment, he gulped the rest of the scalding tea down, causing a number of unpleasant things to happen. First, his throat was burning now, to say nothing of his mouth. Second, his head still hurt, even though it was a little duller than before.

"I must take the liberty of apologizing on behalf of Shindou-san." she said formally, pouring herself a cup of the tea and sliding into the seat across the table from the obsidian haired younger brother. "However, we were expecting Yuki-san to be home. Shundou-san was worried because he had promised to come home early, and we went out to a Nittle Grasper concert instead...?" She trailed off as a light suddenly burst into being behind Tatsuha's eyes.

"A... Nittle Grasper concert?" He said, standing up quickly, slamming his hands into the table hard enough to make the teacups rattle against their china saucers.

"Aa..." she nodded, seeming to shrink even further back into the chair, holding the bitter tea protectively against her chest.

"That's the reason I'm here, I was supposed to go to that concert! When I went to get a ticket, they were all sold out!" He continued voice escalating to almost a yell, before peering at the now smaller woman in the black trenchcoat before him. "How did you get your tickets? Did you buy them a week early!"

"N-no... We just got them a few hours before the concert." Hikari said, shaking her head at the raving Tatsuha, who stared at her in disbelief.

"How on earth did you do that? I went almost twelve hours before the concert to get a ticket, and they were all sold out then!" He said, half sobbing.

"Anou... Sakuma-san gave them to us." She said, guardedly. He stared at her.

And stared.

And stared.

Hikari had begun to believe that she had killed him, when suddenly he began to flail.

"Ryuichi gave you the tickets?" He gaped in disbelief. His head took the opportunity of his abject disbelief to begin to throb again, worse than before. He sat down quickly, and rubbed the back of his head. He stood up shakily again, and began to move towards the enterence to the kitchen. Hikari looked questioningly at him, but he just shook his head slightly.

"Matte," she said, "What about Yuki-san?" Tatsuha thought for a moment, and then nodded slowly.

"After I... couldn't get a ticket. I came back here, since this was closer than home for me. I thought that I might be able to watch the concert on televi, and I got here just as he was leaving." He smirked, and ran a hand through his coal-black hair, wincing involuntarily when his fingers encountered the bump. "He didn't pay much attention to me, but he did say something about going out to get a prescription." He frowned slightly. "However, that was over five hours ago." question answered, Tatsuha left the kitchen for some place to collapse and rest his aching head.

Hikari's brow furrowed slightly at the answer she received...

Five hours?

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Notes: Eee. It was getting a little long, so I stopped at this idea instead of the next one.

For the next one, you're going to have to read the next chapter, which will be typed as soon as I goad myself into doing it.

Remember...

Reviews are (more than) welcome, and flames will be used to roast marshmellows for the starving cast.

Arigatou gozaimasu to those of you who did review. n.n; I wouldn't continue to post chapters if people didn't review them ever so often, thanks for your support.

All the characters are copyright of Maki Murakami, as is the series as a whole (please don't sue me, I'm so poor I have to use flames to eat. ;.;), except for Kari- chan, who is mine. You're welcome to use her (Who would want to?) if you'd like *cough* just tell me beforehand, because I want to read whatever happens to have her in it.

The moral of the story is, there are no morals