Almost Perfect

by cherrydust

Yuki angsts over his relationship with Shuuichi / It breaks what’s left of my heart as you say, “I want us to be as perfect as I see us in my dreams.”

Almost Perfect

            "Yuki...do you love me?"

            Damn it, why do you always have to ask that?  Why can't you just accept what I'm giving you and leave it at that?  I've already given you more, opened more to you, than anyone else in my life!  No one else, not Mika or Tatsuha or even Tohma has ever been as close as you are.  You've done what no one else has been able too.  Shuuichi, you're a *miracle* worker.

            …And why does a miracle worker need so much reassurance?  You have so much faith in yourself and your abilities when it comes to your band and your music.  Why can't you just believe in us?

            "Yuki."  And you always touch me so softly, so tentatively.  If I were anyone else, you'd scream in my ear and hit me in the ribs if I dared to ignore you.  But you let me ignore you, belittle you, make you feel like shit.  Why do you let me do this to you?  "Please…" And your hand is so gentle as it caresses my back.  "Answer me."  And your voice is so unfalteringly patient, so tender and forgiving, never accusing, never angry, just so patient as you wait and wait for the day when I don't say…

            "No."

            There's that terrible silence and then you take a deep breath and say bravely:

            "I love you, Yuki."

            Oh damn it.  Don't you dare, Shuuichi.  Don't you dare waste your life and your love on me.  I'm not worth it!  I've told you so many times; I'm no good for you.  I'm drunk and violent and angry and have a foul mouth and mean and…and…oh Shuuichi.  I'm weak too.  I'm so selfish.  I know how wrong this is.  I know I should let you go, let you find something…someone…better.  But I can't bear to let you go.  And I know that if I keep you, you'll eventually break.  Maybe not today or tomorrow.  Maybe not even ten years from now.  But eventually you *will* break.  And then…and then…you will leave me.  Maybe you'll turn to your best friend.  He loves you, you know.  Or maybe that singer you idolize so much.  He thinks you're cute.  Maybe even Tohma.  You can both angst over me.

            But I'll be alone.  And miserable.

            And it'll be my own fucking fault.

            I can see this all just as clearly as I can see you lying next to me now.  But I'm not going to do anything to stop it.  Because I'm not stupid, Shuuichi.  I know you're the best damn thing that ever came into my life, you and your love you give me so freely and so selflessly.

            I can't love you back Shuuichi.

            But I can't let you go either.

#@#@#@

            "Yuki?  I'm leaving now.  I'll call you around five to see what we can do for dinner, okay?"  There's a pause as you look at me, hoping for something.  This is where I'm supposed to say good-bye, kiss you, and whisper a promise in your ear that makes you shiver in anticipation.

            Instead, I shrug and turn a page of the paper.  I can feel the disappointment radiating off of you.  Ah, but you're an actor as well as a musician.  You conceal it quickly and come tripping over to me, pushing the paper aside momentarily to kiss me and to say cheerily, "Bye, Yuki!"

            I nod and you start out the door.  There's the click of the door closing, but instead of the customary sound of the lock sliding into place, the door flies open and you come bounding across the apartment again to rip the paper out of my hands and to plant yourself in my lap.  Your arms twine tightly around my neck and your face presses against mine and I'm surprised to feel the hot salty wetness of tears.

            "Shuuichi?"  I ask, lifting a hand to brush the tears away.  Your eyes close and you turn away from my hand, burying your face into my neck, your whole small body shaking with tight little sobs.  "Shuuichi!  Wh-why?"

            And as you shake and cling to me, your tears soaking into the collar of my shirt, I'm suddenly afraid.  I'm so very afraid as my arms clench tight around your body and hold you too me and I'm stumbling over my words.  "Shuuichi, don't…please…don't you dare…stop…don't…why are…stop…oh Shuuichi, Shuuichi, don't...stop it…why…why…Shuuichi…"

            I've never felt so helpless before in my life than I do right now, with you in my arms.  It's not a feeling I like.  And because I'm scared and helpless and not knowing what to do and not liking that feeling, my voice is so cold and sharp.  "Shuuichi.  Shut up.  You're acting like a pre-menstrual goddamned woman!  What the fuck has gotten into you?"  And I'm immediately sorry for snapping like this.  I wish I could have found the comforting words and gestures you need so badly.  I'm sorry, Shuuichi.

            But my bitter words have some effect because slowly, the sobs die down to some sniffles and then a little hiccoughing and then nothing.  Your face is swollen and red, your eyes still watery and puffy.  But at least you're not crying anymore and I nod slightly before saying, "So what was all *that* about?"

            "Why can't you love me?"  And suddenly, you're angry, jumping off my lap and glaring at me.  "God DAMN IT Yuki!"

            I wonder how long you've waited to say something like that to me.

            "You're so stupid.  You're so frigging STUPID!"  You're screaming now.  And God help me, I am *glad*.

            Because when you're angry with me, I don't have to feel so guilty.  I don't have to tear my eyes away from the loving look in your own, don't have to thrust off your warm touch, don't have to pretend that our relationship isn't the most predominately fucked thing since…forever, I suppose.  I can't think of anything more screwed up than our relationship.

            Suddenly, I'm gasping for breath and you're glaring at me more than ever, trembling from head to toe as your eyes fill with tears.

            You *punched* me?  Shit Shuuichi, I don't know whether to kill you or to congratulate you.  For now I'll settle for looking extremely shocked and more than a little pissed.  Maybe after I can breathe again, I'll be able to decide.

            "I'm sorry Yuki.  But I had to do it."

            "*Really* now?"  I finally manage to respond with, settling on neither killing nor congratulating, but retaining an aloof and slightly ticked-off manner.

            "Really.  See, I knew you weren't listening.  And I'm so ANGRY!" And suddenly you're all fire and rage again.  "And you're so STUPID!  And so blind!  Yuki, why can't you *see* how wonderful this could be?  I love you; I love you so much it hurts sometimes.  I'd do anything for you; this is how devoted I am to you and to us.  And you just don't seem to understand!  You tell me you're bad for me, but that doesn't stop you from grabbing my ass whenever you want!  You try to push me away and then you bring me back to you, but you won't love me, you say you can't love me!"  And now you're out of breath, covering your face with your hands and hanging your head.

            "What do you want from me?"

            "I…I…" You look frightened, and then so sad, it breaks what's left of my heart as you say softly, "I want us to be as perfect as I see us in my dreams."

#@#@#@

            "I'm hours late for work.  I've got to get ready to go…again."  Your voice is brusque and terse as you roll away from me and clamber out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom and turning on the water.

            I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, folding my hands behind my head as I do so.  I can hear the sound of water pounding down from the showerhead, splattering off your naked body and onto walls, then streaming slowly down to the drain in the center of it all.  In my mind's eye, I can see you standing there, your eyes closed and your pink hair plastered to the sides of you face as you upturn your head to the flow of water.  I can see the heavy streams of water washing the remains of tears, sweat, spittle, and semen from your body.  I see you slowly lathering up a washcloth and dragging it across your flesh, drifting in slow sensuous movements across your chest, down your torso, your legs, your ass, your back…

            I have ever told you how absolutely *gorgeous* you are, Shuuichi?  Because you are.  I've told you you're cute, which you are.  But its moments like these, after a long emotional and wracking day, when I lay in bed and think about you, that you're the most attractive to me.

            You're cute during the day, when you're genki and happy.  You're sexy at night when you're pleasuring my body or making sexy little sounds as I ravish you.  You're ethereal when you sing.  But when you've dropped all defenses, when you've given up for the moment, you are completely and totally gorgeous.

            I can't explain it, not even to myself and most *certainly* not to you.  But it's something in the way your head drops and you look so weary.  Your shoulders will slump and all the color leaves your face, even the vibrant strands of you hair seem duller.  Your lips relax into a slight frown and just the look on your face makes my heart break.  Its then that you seem so vulnerable and still, so mature, as though some sorrow has fallen on you and aged you far beyond your years.

            It's then that I feel my resolve slipping.  It's then that I want to hold you in my arms forever.  And it's *then* that I think I may be falling in love with you…

            Not this topic again.  It comes up again and again but my answer is always and will always remain the same:  I can't love you Shuuichi.  I haven't got it in me to and even if I found it, I wouldn't let myself.

            Love…it's just a state of mind.  There *is* no such thing as one true love.  Call me a hypocrite if you must, but let me remind you, what I write is *fiction*.  And in fiction, reality and boundaries all go flying out the window and for a little while you can believe that yes!  Yes, the almost indecently handsome hero is going to save the day and win the girl.  Yes, the sex bomb of a villain that you love to hate shall be delivered to justice.  Yes, the heroine will be the spunky, resourceful, clever and of course, devastatingly beautiful woman my readers wish they were.  And of course, it will all, end happily ever after, with the sun setting on a blissfully in love couple facing the future, that is now bright, because they are *together* and in god-damned frigging *love*.

            Shuuichi, you say you love me today.  But what about tomorrow?  Do you feel your love running thin every time I tell you to shut up or just grunt responses?  Will you still love me; even if I kick you out of the house and find myself one of those 'nice, decent' girls my crazy family is always trying to push on me?  What if I raped somebody, robbed a house, kidnapped a baby?  Would you still love me then?

            Do you see what I'm saying?  There is no such thing as unconditional love.  There is no such thing as complete trust or blind leaps of faith or at-first-sight or head-over-heels or fairy-tale-romances or any of that other garbage that people feed you.  It's all just a nice dream, the sort of thing your parents tell you as a bedtime story.

            Love is simply a state of mind.  Just like happiness.  Just like anger.  Just like any other emotion.  And just like any other emotion, it passes.

            And why even bother making such a big stupid deal out of the whole thing?  Do you run up to Hiro and tell him that you're happy?  No, you don't.  Do you inform Suguru every time you're sad?  Of course not.  What about K or Sakano or Tohma or any of the others you work with?  Do you tell them every time you feel a little low or angry or joyous?  No.  Nobody does.

            So why build up love like this and make such a scene when you tell somebody you love them?  Sure, you might love them now.  But in a few years, you'll be divorced and shuttling two kids back and forth between houses on weekends that are going to grow up warped on the idea of love and the cycle goes on, never-ending.

            Just treasure the emotion if, on the rare occasion, you do feel it.  Don't dwell on it.  Don't build it up into something its not.  Don't go shouting from the rooftops that you're in love.  Because it'll pass.

            Heh.  If you were here in bed with me, right now, Shuuichi, and you could hear my thoughts, you'd be laughing.

            And if I were the laughing sort of guy, I'd be laughing at myself right now.

            Since when did I start analyzing people and emotions like this?  God.  I'm getting softer and sappier as the days wear on.

#@#@#@

            It's nearly six-fifteen.  Granted, when you tell me you mean to call at five, you'll call around five-thirty.  But it's nearly forty minutes later than I expected you to call.  If there's one thing I can count on you for, it's you calling when you say you will.

            So why hasn't the phone rung?

            I hate to admit it, but I'm worried.  You were still upset when you left, although you didn't say anything.  You just said quietly that you had to be going and that you'd call around five about dinner.  And then you left.

            I shouldn't have let you go when you felt like that.  I didn't mean for it to end up this way.  I tried to comfort you; I tried to show you the affection that you crave.  But I'm obviously not very good at where the line between affection and foreplay falls.

            Because I made love to you.

            Damn it, why am I softening it like this?  Shuuichi, I didn't make love to you.  I fucked you, plain and simple.  You reached out for tenderness and love and I threw it back in your face and seduced you.  You wanted me to hold you and I spread your legs.

            I'm sorry.  So sorry.  I should never have done that to you.  I really am the rotten sonofabitch bastard that everyone thinks I am.  Shuuichi, if you were here or at least on the phone with me, I think that tonight I could tell you that I'm sorry.  That I want you to come home and forgive.  I think that tonight, I could just hold you and for a little while, we could pretend that it was all as perfect as it is in your dreams.

            Six-thirty.

            I'm really starting to sweat now.

            I know you Shuuichi.  And I know that no matter how angry you are or how hurt, you would never leave me hanging like this.  You're not a vengeful man, Shuuichi, and you would never try to seek revenge by hurting me by not letting you know where you are.

            I'm afraid again.  All I can think of is that night when you didn't come home to me and that bastard hurt you…

            Screw whatever pretensions I put up before about never calling you.  I'm going to call you!  I need to know no one's hurting you, that you're safe, that you're just sulking somewhere and forgot to call or that you're trying to punish me.

            The phone rings.

            Thank *God*!

            "Hello?"  I ask, trying to sound collected and reserved.  I don't want you to know how sweaty my palms are or how painfully my heart is thudding.

            "Yuki-san!"  I hear a slightly familiar voice gasp my name out.  "Tell me, tell me, where is Shindo-kun?"

            "He's not here."

            "WHAAAT?"  I hear the sound of the phone hitting a table and what sounds like someone crashing into a wall.

            Oh.  I remember now.  This is that insane producer of Shuuichi's, Sakano-san.  "Sakano-san?"   I yell into the phone, trying to draw him back to the receiver.  "Are you saying that…"

            "…Shuuichi never showed up for work?  Yes."  A grim voice finishes.  I know this voice for sure.  This is K, the gun-toting, random English-speaking, American manager that made Bad Luck famous.

            "How could he have not shown up for work?  He left around eleven o'clock for NG."  My hands are so slippery with sweat; I can barely hold the receiver to my ear.  My throat and mouth are suddenly very, very dry.  My heart pounds.

            Shuuichi.  I'm so scared.

            "Well, obviously he didn't.  Yuki, do you have any idea as to *why* he'd skip?"  K's voice is quiet, not accusing, and still I *know* he knows that I've hurt you.

            I swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat.  "Yes.  He…he was upset with me."

            "Damn it, Yuki, can't you keep your fat mouth shut for one damn minute?"  K's voice is a sudden low growl.  "What did you say this time?  You of all people know how sensitive he is!"

            "I…" I can't tell him.  Not K.  K…he's so brash, so loud, so accusing…so right.  I can't tell him what I've done to you.

            "Did you kick him out again?"

            "No."

            "Tell him he was stupid or talent-less?"

            "No."

            "Oh God…Yuki, you didn't tell him you didn't love him, did you?"

            "…"

            "YOU DID!  If you were here, I'd shoot you!"  In the background, I can hear a gun going off and Sakano's scream.  For the second time, I hear the receiver hit a table and I hear K's rough voice becoming a gentle, soothing sound and Sakano's voice answering in similar low murmurs.

            Well.

            Even the crazy paranoid whirlwind and insane gun-shooting manager can have a functional relationship.

            What the fuck is WRONG with me?  I didn't spend thousands of dollars on shrinks for me to come out like this.

            K's back on the phone and I snap to attention.  "Well.  The band has spent all day waiting for him.  They can't function without their lead singer!  Where do you think he is?"

            "I…I don't know."  And I can't think of any place either.  Shuuichi, how much do I know about you?  I know you love to sing and dance.  I know you love being the center of attention and that you love it when I kiss your throat.  I know that you love me.

            But I don't know where you would run.  I don't know whom you would turn to.

            "You're a bastard, Yuki, you know that?  A real creep of a bastard."  K doesn't even bother to hide the disgust in his voice and slams the phone down.

            He's right.

            My eyes close and I slowly hang up the phone.  Slower still, I slump the floor and lean against the wall, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.

            My head hurts.  Everything hurts.

            Shuuichi.

            Please, be all right.

            Please, be don't be sad.

            Please, find someone who will make you happy.

            Please…

#@#@#@

            Nine-fifteen.  Damn it, where ARE you?  I've been staring at the television for nearly three hours and haven't registered a bit what's going on inside that box.  I can't stop thinking about you.  Why won't you call?  Just one second of you on the phone, just one moment, just so I know you're alive and okay and that you're not…

            I don't even want to think about that.

            Oh God, Shuuichi, if this is your way of getting revenge; you've certainly gotten it.  I've never been so worried before.  I've never been so anxious for a phone call and still dreading the same one before.  I've…I've never felt like this about anyone before…

            Not now.  Damn it Shuuichi, NOT NOW!  Don't you dare…don't you dare make me…not now.  Not when I'm going to lose you…please, not now.

            I can feel the realization in my bones.  I can feel that icy chill of knowledge slowly seeping up and sending shivers down my body.

            I'm going to lose you tonight.

            I wrap my arms tightly around myself and close my eyes.

            I'm going to lose you tonight.

            If…

            There's always that if…

            I'm going to lose you tonight if…

            I sleep.

#@#@#@

            Time passes.  I don't know how much – fifteen minutes?  Three hours?  A day?  It doesn't matter.  My eyes snap open and I stand, rubbing a hand over my face, grimacing at the scratchy feel of an unshaved face.  My clothing is rumpled and creased and I know, without looking in a mirror that my hair is sticking up at odd angles.

            I don't stop to change any of this appearance as I move quickly throughout the apartment, yanking on a coat and scooping up my car keys from the table in the foyer.  After a moment's thought, I grab your coat too.  If…when…I find you, you're going to be cold.

            And of course, the cigarettes.

            I can't function without them at this point.

            I head downstairs, smoking a cigarette almost violently.  I get a few strange looks on my way out as a few late-night partygoers make their way in.  What the hell is Yuki Eiri, famous romance-novelist, doing out at this hour, looking like something the cat dragged in and then promptly pissed on?

            Why, he's gone completely insane and is rushing to play hero and save his lover from some kind of fate.

            And if that fate is terrible or not, has yet to be decided.

            I glare and continue running for my car, still smoking a cigarette.  Those activities don't mix well.  You'd be laughing if you could see me now, wheezing and coughing and pissed and worried and afraid and tired and chain-smoking like a nervous father-to-be.

            I start the car and guide out onto the streets, noticing dully that the streets are unusually empty.  Even at the darkest part of the night, there are always more than a few cars roaming the streets of the city.  But only one or two cars pass me by every fifteen minutes or so, and I'm starting to grow nervous again.

            I'm not sure where I'm heading but my hands seem to direct the car to a logical spot.  It stops in front of a vaguely familiar apartment building and I stare up at it, trying to figure out where I've gone to look for you.

            Of course.  Nakano Hiroshi's apartment.  Where else would you go but to your best friend's?  I get out of the car and hurry up to the door leading into the apartment building.  There's a list of apartment owners and an intercom and hurriedly, I slide my finger down the list, looking for Nakano.

            There it is.  Nakano, apartment C3, number 43.  I press four and then three into the intercom and wait hurriedly for Hiroshi to answer.  "Yeah?"  His sleepy voice crackles to life over the intercom and I answer hastily.

            "Hiroshi-san?  It's-,"

            "Yuki Eiri?"  Suddenly, he sounds much more awake.  And then, he replies in a slightly poisonous voice.  "What do you want?"

            "Is…" I swallow hard and ask meekly, "Is Shuuichi there?"

            "No."

            "Did he call you?"

            "No."

            "Oh…er, I apologize for waking you up and, um, -,"

            He interrupts me again.  "Yuki…I told Shuuichi to stop running to me with his problems concerning you months ago.  Maybe if you took the time to *listen* to what he has to say, you'd know that."

            "…I…"

            "Yeah.  I know.  You're sorry."  He gives a contempt snort and says brusquely.  "Good night Eiri."

            "…Good night."  I start to turn away, but the intercom crackles to life once more and Hiro's voice sounds behind.

            "And um…Yuki-san?  Please…if you find Shuuichi…don't hurt him.  He's my best friend."  And there's a pleading quality to Hiro's voice and I wonder what the significance behind those words are.  They sound so simple and yet, there's a sort of emotion that I can't identify lurking there, heavy and deep behind them.

            "I know, Nakano-san.  I know."  I sigh and call the words over my shoulder.

            But it doesn't matter.

            He can't hear me.

#@#@#@

            I've stopped in every bar, every café, every place I thought you could be at.  And you're not there.  What's happened to you Shuuichi?  Where are you?  Why can't I find you?

            Maybe…maybe you're at home.  Safe and curled up under the warm comforter on my bed, sleeping and blissfully unaware of the anguish I'm going through.  And if I turn around and go home right now, I'll find you and then I can start to yell at you for being in my bed and you'll know I'm really yelling because I've been so scared and you'll just laugh and hug me and say that you love me.  Or maybe I'll slip into bed behind you and wrap my arms around you and whisper that I was bored without you because we both know I'll never be able to admit how much I missed you and then you'll roll over and smile sleepily and return my embrace and we'll stay like that till morning…

            …I've told myself this so many times, I can almost believe it.  I'm going home now and my heart is almost painful with the amount of hope I feel, even though I keep trying to tell myself that I should never get my hopes up…

            It's with a sudden squeal, I hit the brakes and that my heart gives a painful lurch as slap my hand against my forehead.

            Of course!  How could I have been so stupid?  The park, where I found your lyrics and where I told you that you had no talent and it started this insane relationship…of course!  You'd go to our beginning when you thought it was the end…you're sentimental like that.

            I park the car right there, in the middle of the road, and who gives a damn if I get towed?  I grab your jacket and drape it over my arm; leaving my hand free for the cigarette I light up and begin to smoke nervously.  I walk quickly over the grass, ignoring the paved pathways, intent only on finding you.

            And I do.

            I see you, standing there, leaning against the railing and staring out at the river below the bridge.  I see the way a streetlight casts a yellowish glow against your skin and the way your hair moves in the breeze.  I see the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the goose flesh rising on your body, the tracks of tears on your face.

            Oh God, Shuuichi.  If I had never seen you before…if I had never known you…this would be the moment I fell in love with you.  And this is the moment that I feel my heart break and then heal again.

            I step forward and beneath my foot, a stray dried leaf crackles.  I freeze and your head snaps up and turns in my direction.  My heart is pounding and your eyes widen.  There's a long moment of silence between us and finally, I move forward.  "I brought your jacket.  Its cold tonight."

            You nod and reach out to take the coat I'm holding out to you.  But at the last moment, the coat misses your fingertips and flutters to the ground as I pull you tight against me, crushing you in my arms.  "Don't…don't do this again," I whisper in your ear, closing my eyes and hoping to God that I won't cry.  "Everyone at NG was worried and…and…" Your head tilts back and your eyes lock on mine, shining with unshed tears and hope.  "So was I," I admit, dropping my head so that it rests on your shoulder.  "Oh God, Shuuichi…"  I don't know what to say now and I settle for holding you close, my lips traveling over your face and tasting your tears and your sadness and your hope and your love…  "Shuuichi…" I murmur your name again and again as I taste happiness again, finding it in your tears and I feel the hot burning behind me eyes and I can't hold it back as the hot tears splash over my face and I taste our tears mingled.  And I taste love…

            "Yuki…" your voice is hesitant and you change from whatever you were going to say to a casual observation.  "Your face scratches," you whisper as my cheeks brushes against your own.  "And you slept in your clothes…you need to take better care of yourself."

            "Shut up," I snap, my voice muffled as I clutch you all the tighter.  Don't ruin this with stupid words, just let hold you and taste you and love you…

            "No…I won't.  And Yuki, you're *crying*!"  Your voice is wondering and awed as you brush your fingertips across my cheekbones and touch your tongue to their tips, tasting my sadness and my joy and all the complicated emotions you give me in the saltiness of these tears.  "Oh, Yuki.  Don't cry for me.  Save your tears for somebody else."  And your voice is soft and understanding as you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the tears.  "Yuki, I've been thinking today and I've decided that-,"

            "Shuuichi…do you love me?" I interrupt to ask you the same question you've asked me so many times.

            You try to smile and almost succeed, but for the sadness shining out of hollow eyes.  "Always.  But-,"

            "Love is just a state of mind," I begin.

            "And like any other state of mind, it passes," you continue.  You've heard this countless times before from me.

            "And if this is a state of mind…I want to stay in it forever with you."

            Your eyes widen.  And you start to cry again, and then laugh.  You cry and you laugh and through your tears, you embrace me and your tears are hot and wet against my face and your lips find mine.  Your lips are slick with tears and salty with the taste of them but they're the most beautiful things I've ever kissed, the loveliest I've ever tasted, and it's through your lips that I fall deeper and deeper.  I can't give you more than what I've already given you, at least, not yet.  Not now.  I've given you all I've got right now, this night, and I've barely skimmed the surface of what you will give me.

            It's a far cry from the perfection you see in your dreams.  But its almost there.

            Right now, this is almost perfect.

::END::