Title: Untitled

Rating: R (strong sexual content)

Pairings: Ryuichi x Tohma

Author: Siru Naoko

Sakuma Ryuichi recalled Tohma's rejection with more clarity than the fatal Incident that was never talked about.  On that afternoon, the day's promised sunshine had been totally swallowed up by vulgar black clouds.  It was in that semi-darkness that Ryuichi had slinked his way to Tohma's secret apartment.  Located above a cake shop full of tittering teenage girls, it seemed an unlikely hideout for Nittle Grapser's keyboardist and manager.  To Ryuichi, it just seemed cruel.  But then, Tohma had always been the type to tempt the devil. 

In sunglasses and a fishing cap, Ryuichi snuck up the back alley stairs, and into the abandoned hallway. He was reminded of the darker side of New York.  Everything about the hall seemed to scream "the projects".  From the worn through carpet to the missing numbers on the doors, it seemed as unlikely a locale as any.  Ryuichi knew the numbers were gone because Seguichi owned the whole building and kept this floor for his own private use.  Yes, the cake shop had been his idea. Above it, behind the gray doors, four apartments were converted into one suite suited for a rock star.  After all, if one had to hideout, one should get to do it in style.

With a metallic taste creeping up his throat, Ryuichi went to the third door down from the fire escape.  The fact that it was scrubbed clean should have been a dead give away to anyone.  No matter how he tried to fight it, Seguichi Tohma was a neat freak. To think, Tohma had been willing to soil his lovely hands for him.

Ryuichi let out a sigh, the raised a shaking hand to knock on the door.  Some unknown head briefly blocked the light in the peephole.  With grand flourish, Ryuichi whipped off his floppy hat and glasses to reveal himself.  Still, the door did not open.

"For crying out loud, Tohma, open the door.  I need to talk to you about last night!"

A bolt clicked and the door opened slightly more that a foot's width. The chain, still locked, tightened with a heavy snap. Tohma's face appeared in the gap.  The smell of fresh coffee wafted out into the hallway, chasing away some of the dark. His expression was that damned smile with the half closed eyes.

"Ah, Sakuma-san.  How are you today?" said Tohma.

Ryuichi sighed.  He was still "Sakuma-san."  Part of Ryuichi had hoped once Tohma had cooled off, this new rift would have been repaired.  He longed to hear Tohma call him "Ryuichi" again.

"You know how I'm doing today.  Tohma, that picture is on the front page of all the newspapers!" said Ryuichi.  He moved so he was right in front of Tohma.  "I couldn't even get into my house this morning.  The media is around it, trying to seek a peek."

"So, you didn't go home last night like I told you to?" Tohma was stern, like a father chastising a disobedient child.

"No, my heart was broken by this really cute guy, so I spent the night at a yakati*," Ryuichi pushed on the door, only to feel Tohma push back.  "Let me in.  I want to talk to you about last night."

"Don't worry, Sakuma-san," smiled Tohma. "I'll take care of the media.  This will all be over in a day or two.  Until then, just hide out.  Why don't you go visit your family in Hokkaido?"

"That's not what I meant.  I want to talk about what happened between us..."

"There is no 'us', Sakuma-san. I can't let you in here. Usegi-san is here."

Ryuichi felt his heart seize.  Usegi-san.  Usegi Eiri or Usegi Mika?  Eiri would be the bigger slap in the face. At least Mika was a woman, and could fill the role of childbearing.  Tohma would know that.  Was Tohma trying to save his feelings, or was he being exceptionally cruel.  He was capable of both.

"Which Usegi-san?" he asked.

"That would be none of your business.  I'm closing the door now. I would suggest that you lay low for a few days.  If not, I cannot be held responsible for what happens to you. Sayonara."

With that, Tohma shut the door before Ryuichi had a chance to force his foot into the opening.  With the clicking of each lock, Ryuichi felt an urge to break down the door grow.  The message Tohma was sending was clear.  Sakuma Ryuichi had been dumped and left to fend for himself among the wolves scenting for his blood.  Tohma had been the one to bleed him with his refusal.  Ryuichi wasn't really sure which act hurt him more.

He jammed his fishing hat back on his head and went down the main stairs.  If he was going to be caught in this place, next to all these girls, he was going to take Tohma down with him.  He was sincerely disappointed when he pasted the cake shop without incident.  Part of him wanted to shout in a falsetto, "Oh my god, is that Seguichi Tohma!" but he worried about the uncontrolled mob hurting themselves. 

Once outside, Ryuichi put back on his sunglasses and wandered around, nearly blind in the overcast afternoon.  He hung his head down, scrunched up his shoulders to the tips of his earlobes.  He tried his hardest to look like someone who didn't want to be seen.

Walking down the street, every newspaper box and bookstore window had the picture on display.  Some entrepreneurs had even been cleaver and blown it up on a photocopier, but most just had the newspaper itself.  The headline mocked him with its strange combination of fantasy and reality.

NITTLE GRASPER SHOCKER

Sakuma Ryuichi, singer, and Seguichi Tohma, Keyboardist/producer

Found in lover's embrace.

Embrace indeed.  Ryuichi picked up his pace.  He didn't want to call Noriko and explain this.  While words had never been spoken on the matter, he thought Noriko knew.  Back when they were in college together she had always teased him about not being able to keep a girlfriend because they couldn't give him what he needed.  It had been Noriko who had introduced him to Tohma.  He was a business major with a sizable inheritance who believed he had discovered the secret to band marketing.  Tohma would spend his father's money to make the perfect Idol Band.  All he needed was a beautiful woman for the men, and a universally beauty who would appeal to both the girls and the boys.  Needless to say, he found just what he was looking for in the friendship duo of Noriko and Ryuichi.  Unfortunately, love lorn Ryuichi found what he was looking for too.

Singing was like creating heaven with his own words.  With his voice, subtle movements, and a smile he could spell bind a crowd hidden behind the glare of stage lights.  They all worshiped him.  The all liked him, unquestioningly.  No one wondered why he didn't have a girlfriend.  They just saw it as an opportunity.  No one thought he was strange in collecting toys.  They saw it as enduring.  They never asked who he looked at Tohma like he did.  They all believed it was rapt attention. No one knew Ryuichi knew every detail of Tohma's visible self as well as he knew his own body.

No one noticed when Sakuma Ryuichi fell hopelessly in love with his band mate.

He was an Idol Star, a demigod in a world of blissful animists.  If he wore a coat of chicken feathers the next week all chickens would be suffering from pneumonia to keep up with the demand.  He was an angel of heaven, and an angel can do no wrong.

Or so he thought.  Yesterday had proven him completely wrong.

Deep in thought, Ryuichi lost track of all time and space. Not only did he not know where he was, but also he didn't feel the first few drops of rain plop on his head.  As the clouds above him ripped open to drench the world, Ryuichi came back to his self.  Already drenched, he found himself in a strange neighborhood.  He was surrounded by a well-structured residential district, without so much as a Convini** in sight.  Out of options, he ran for the only shelter in sight. An abandoned playground...what an unlikely place for an Idol Star

Vocab:

Yakati: (noun) One of those rolling wooden carts that sit on the street that you always see people drinking at in Japan/ anime. The serve saki, dango and other drinking food to partons sitting behind their curtain. 

Convini: (noun) Japanese slang for a convience store. I find I use this in real life now!