Yuki was stuck.

Once again entangled in that most terrible of curses, the incurable scourge of the world of fine literature, that thing called -

Writer's block.

Absently, he was tapping S on his keyboard repeatedly, a pen grasped between his teeth, while golden eyes darkened ominously, and his unlined brow furrowed. With a small sigh, he abandoned both the laptop, and the mounds of screwed up paper that were littered around his desk, each one bearing only a few words in his slanting script. He perused his book lined shelves, eyes running over the neatly bound covers of books he had enjoyed reading, textbooks, and at the bottom, his own novels. His fingers seemed to have gained a life of their own, as he bent and softly slid out his latest, KOIBITO. The dedication was printed on the very first page. It was short and to the point.

Don't get too excited by this, brat.

It wasn't like Shuuichi was going to see it anyway, or realize that it was the only book Yuki had ever dedicated to someone. The only books Yuki had seen in his hands were his monthly issues of manga, brightly covered covers and storylines of unrealistically beautiful heroes, and overly energetic characters like himself. And of course, the Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper doujinshi. He had heard several horrified squeaks when his lover was reading them, and most had been tossed straight into the bin. "Sakuma-san would never do that!"

Running a slender hand through strands of blonde hair, he decided to get another cup of coffee. And maybe see what his pink haired little idiot was up to now.


Bookworm
By Aishiteru
Part 2: KOIBITO


It was definitely strange, for a man who had cut off as many ties as he could to the outside world, to have a phone that rang as often as his did.

Ring. Ring.

He let his voicemail take it again.

"Ryuji! Why aren't you answering? Why didn't you show up last night? I was waiting for you for hours....I made dinner and everything....why didn't you come?"

Because you're boring me. Because I'm finished with you.

"You're a bastard, Takasugi! You know that!? Don't expect to hear from me again, you jerk!"

They all said that. She'd ring back in ten minutes, cringing, apologizing.

He made a mental note to change his cell phone number.

He idly lit a cigarette, and inhaled. He could almost feel the pollution seeping into him, the mellowly bitter taste of ash and smoke curling along his tongue. So utterly pointless, yet addictive, like so many other things in his life. He leaned back, the tight leather of his chair creaking, and stared at the ceiling. Smooth blank white plaster met his gaze, stained a barely perceptible yellow-grey from his incessant chain smoking. The apartment was new.

Blank. Empty.

It was only fitting. Everything was.


Kumagorou ruled the corridors of N-G Records with an iron first in his furry little rabbit paws. Ryuuichi merely obeyed everything he did....It really wasn't his fault na no da! The vocalist of Nittle Grasper wandered the halls, a disconsolate expression on his usually cheerful face. Eyes welling up with tears, he pulled on the ears of his ridiculously oversized Kumagorou costume. Kumagorou really wanted him to sing with Shuuichi, and Shuuichi wasn't ANYWHERE!!!

"SHUUICHI!!!" He wailed. "Stop hiding! It's mean na no da!"

Silence, and then Tohma's gentle laugh.

"Are you looking for Shindou-kun, Ryuuichi?"

Pouted nodding. He didn't bother wondering where Tohma had suddenly appeared from.

"Shindou-kun's been with Eiri-san lately." A slight lilt to his words spoke volumes.

"Eh?"

"He's been staying home, while Suguru and Nakano-kun compose. Trying to get out of another slump, I suppose." Tohma smiled, aquamarine eyes moderately amused. Tohma never allowed himself to slump, physically or mentally.

"Uh? Ah! Maybe Kumagorou can help him, Kumagorou always helps you, right Tohma?"

Another laugh. "Of course."

"Tohma, can you drive Kumagorou to Shuuichi's house?"


A long still breath. Smoke bloomed in a long twisted veil of hazy grey, obscuring the rigid lines of his crowded bookshelves for a moment.

It was way too quiet. He stubbed out the rapidly disintegrating cigarette, and after an extremely brief moment of consideration, lit another.

The clock's ticking echoed hollowly from the living room. He really should've gotten a digital one.

Abruptly, he shoved away from his desk, and stood smoothly, a frown marring features women swooned over. Slippered feet rasped over smooth floorboards, and he paced the spacious apartment impatiently, feeling caged and edgy.

What was wrong with him? Takasugi Ryuji needed no one, wanted no one. He was the one other people sought out eagerly. People were always worried about him, not the other way around. Why then, was there this flaring edge of anxiety burning in his chest? Why was it that he couldn't keep still, and his eyes lifted, compelled to the clock, which strangely hadn't moved at all since he had last glanced at it? Surely- surely it was just a nicotine rush. He had intended to cut back soon anyway.

He lifted the cigarette back to his lips, and took a long relieving drag.

The doorbell rang.

Before he knew it, somehow he had flung the door open, and glared down at the bell ringer. "You're late."

She grinned up at him, not at all intimidated, one hand coming up to scratch her head sheepishly. "Sorry, Ryuji. Practice went for longer then I realized, and before we knew it, it was really late!" She brushed past him, and he turned to watch her, reluctantly placated. It was so typical, so annoying, yet somehow...

Kudoh Chiriko wasn't conventionally or even traditionally beautiful. Her features were somehow too sharp in places, too rounded in others, the mouth too pouted, the eyes too large for common beauty. But there was something about those mobile features that fascinated Ryuji - they never lied to him. She was so completely, vulnerably open - her emotions constantly danced on her skin. Currently, her brow was furrowed, nose scrunched tight, as she balanced precariously, one-legged, digging a shoe off with her other foot. Shoes disposed of, she turned back to him, and smiled widely, a nameless emotion shining in violet eyes. It disquieted him- it made his heart clench in a terrible physical way that had nothing to do with lust.

"Where are your keys, anyway?" He asked her grumpily, shuffling past in slippered feet.

"Ehehe.." she laughed nervously. "I left them here this morning, in my other pant's pocket."

"Hmn. Typical."

"Ryuji! You're so mean! It's all your fault anyway..." She pouted, hanging onto his arm.

Said pants had been quite hastily discarded last night. A slight smile tugged his lips.

"Ryuji smiled! I made Ryuji smile! Hee hee!"

"Oh, shut up. Little idiot."

They sat on the couch, and she promptly laid her head in his lap, curling contentedly up next to him, while gazing up tiredly with adoring eyes. "It was a good day," she yawned. "But I missed you."

"Moron. You only saw me this morning - how could you miss me already?"

"But I did! It was in the morning- ages ago. Of course I missed you!"

There was that feeling again - that intense surge of- of something. He didn't love her. That wasn't possible. Takasugi Ryuji didn't even know how to love anymore. And he knew that she wasn't right for him at all- too loud, too young, and far too brash. She was always demanding his attention. She was annoying. And surely, soon, very soon, he would get bored of her. He would be able to flick her away, discard her without hesitation or regret.

But nonetheless - when she smiled at him like that - when she said things like that, openly and without any thought at all...

A muffled sigh , and her head suddenly became much heavier. She had fallen asleep - she was always exhausted after rehearsals. Her features relaxed in peaceful slumber, she looked like what all the clichés said sleeping beauties should look like. Young. Defenceless. And so very fragile. You wouldn't have realized from when she was bouncing around energetically, when she was speaking so animatedly, just how slight she was.

She was, he decided, very beautiful.

He ran a careful hand through her hair, and the loose shining locks tumbled heedlessly through his caress.


The doorbell rang.

Yuki looked up from his scribbled planning. "Oh, for god's sake..." At this rate, he was never going to get a rough draft of the first chapter out before the end of the month. He shuffled out and opened the door irritably.

"YUKI-SAN!" Mouth slightly ajar, Yuki watched as Japan's favourite idol, Sakuma Ryuichi himself, skipped past him, resplendent in a voluminous bunny suit. A miniature replica was perched on his head, centred precisely between the floppy pink ears. "Ne, ne, Yuki-san, where's Shuuichi? It's not nice to not share Yuki-san! SHUU-ICHI!!! WHERE ARE YOU!? STOP HIDING!!!!"

Yuki winced. The windows rattled. Definitely a singer's lungs.

A rumpled pink head poked itself out of Shuuichi's doorway. "Eh? Sakuma-san? What are you doing here?"

That was something Yuki also would've liked to know. He looked on somewhat sourly, as Shuuichi's god happily glomped him.

"Hello, Eiri-san."

Perfect. Yuki sighed inwardly, and prepared himself for another painfully strained talk with his brother-in-law. He had barely even noticed Tohma was there, with the only thirty year old kindergartener in world to distract him.

"Tohma! Shuuichi hasn't had dinner yet, and neither have I, and we're hungry!" Ryuuichi looked turned imploring eyes towards his keeper. "And you can't tell Noriko I forgot to eat again, she'll get mad at me..." Big, watery, imploring eyes.

"Of course," Tohma said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Where shall we go to eat?"

"McDonalds na no da!" Ryuuichi chirped, all his troubles quietened. "Kumagorou doesn't have the latest toy...and he WANTS it!" He ran out of the room, dragging along a stunned Shuuichi.

Tohma smiled. "Eiri-san, shall we?"


They went to McDonald's - two adored pop stars, an equally famous author, and the President of NG Records. The sight was enough to send millions swooning. Luckily Tohma had remembered to bring along Ryuuichi's baseball cap, and a spare for Shuuichi, rightly suspecting both idols were too scatter brained to think of it themselves. The restaurant was empty, except for a harassed looking woman herding five screaming children, and a man slumped in a corner, absently picking at the pickles in his burger.

"The toys in America aren't very good at all, all plastic and icky and boring, and no fun to throw around na no da. Japanese toys are much more fun!" Ryuuichi said earnestly. He clapped his hands to make his free robotic dog bark again, and laughed delightedly. "But Kumagorou is superior, but Kumagorou isn't a toy, Kumagorou is Kumagorou, ne, ne?"

Shuuichi looked shocked. "Of course!"

Ryuuichi quickly hugged his pink bunny close, one floppy ear falling over the lopsided nose. "I never thought anything else though, Kumagorou! Don't mistake me!"

Kumagorou made no reply, strangely enough. It's beady black eyes reflected the harsh fluorescent light.

"KUMAGOROU'S MAD AT ME!" The raw power of the singer's voice was once again demonstrated, and Shuuichi fell over himself convincing that Sakuma that no, Kumagorou wasn't mad at him, he was just very hungry. Ryuuichi promptly mashed a handful of fries near his beloved's head, and told his bunny to eat up.

Tohma calmly ate his fish burger.

Yuki picked at his own food. He hated McDonalds. It was so damn American.

All in all, this was shaping up to be a very strange evening. And a while a good part of that was due to Sakuma Ryuuichi, that wasn't all of it, amazingly enough.

Part of it was Shuuichi's behaviour. The little idiot had been sending him strange looks all evening, when he wasn't distracted by his god's antics. It followed a predictable pattern - Shuuichi would look at him, stare, blush, look down, sneak another look, blush even harder, then look away. Distraction. Then repeat. It was like in earlier times all over again - after Yuki had gone to his concert. After that notorious press conference just outside the old apartment when he had told the reporters the precise nature of their relationship. The same shyness, the same blushes, that same irritating wonder in those large violet eyes. He supposed part of the strangeness was that he never actually went out in public with Shuuichi.

He ignored the quick stab of guilt. If Shuuichi wanted to go out, he could say so. And the singer had never said anything at all to that intent. No, he was simply too happy to even be in Yuki's presence....

He shook his head, and resumed eating, in grim bites. Tohma's eyes were concerned, and did not stray far from his direction.


It had hit the rock bottom for Ryuji. Things had come in a full circle, and he could not deny his past, try as he might.

Eyes bleak, he stared at the gun in his lap, the smooth gleaming curves of oiled metal, the rough leather grip. The trigger.

His answer.

He picked it up. It was so familiar in his hand; it felt like it belonged there.

--Violet eyes, desperate, imploring, the frantic grip of slim hands beating butterfly strokes against his chest, "whywhywhywhywhyRyuji"--

He had told her something inane. He didn't remember the exact phrasing, something about her being annoying and bad in bed. He could remember the terrible way her face had crumpled in that split second, the full strike of his words coming home, the weight of his opinion, of how much she cared about what he thought about her. Strange really, that he only realized the full extent of their inexplicable irrational bond when he was severing it.

His chest hurt again, and he could feel the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

Things had been- changing. He had even told her about his past, as difficult as it had been, battling the spectres of his memories. He supposed he had naively -oh god, he was still so naive, even after everything that had happened- believed that once he told her everything would be alright, that his demons would be laid to rest in the light of her eyes.

It hadn't happened though.

Instead she had gazed at him in helpless sympathy, and he could have drowned in her pity. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't help him - what had he expected? That she would make everything better?

Yeah right.

And then she had slipped away. "I'm getting a drink," and he was lost. He was seized by his past, and no matter how everyone said the past couldn't hurt you, it could. So he pushed her away. All he could do was taint her blessed innocence, obscene smoke on smooth white walls, and she didn't need that. She didn't need him, all he could do was hurt her, push her away, and make her cry.

He dropped the gun, and laid a hand against his eyes. He needed a smoke.

He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter.

And then stared.

She smiled up at him, captured in a small fraction of a second, mouth wide in a joyous smile, her arms thrown around his neck. He in turn was trying not to scowl, he had been feeling distinctly irritated, but he had promised he would take her out. Do things her way. That included eating cotton candy, having her wrapped around his arm, having his eardrums ruptured while she screamed during the roller coaster, and walking around aimlessly while she pointed out random things to him.

He had expected it to be a horrible afternoon, to try his patience to the limit. He had expected it to make him thoroughly sick of her at last.

It hadn't.

Instead, it had convinced him to finally tell her everything. He couldn't say why. It was an endless golden day in his memory, a day that had in the end been tainted by his past. Another thing tainted by his past.

He picked the gun up again.

"RYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUJI!!!"

His head jerked up at the long wail that proceeded her. The door slammed open, and she was there, breath gasping in and out, her eyes wide and relieved.

"Do you think you can escape from me? Even if you try to escape or die, I'll search and find you. Because I'll never forgive it! Because I love you!"

"...You..."


Yuki knocked on Shuuichi's door. "I'm coming in."

He was sealed up in his room again, as soon as he had said respectful goodnights to Ryuuichi and Tohma. It was really starting to irritate Yuki. He wanted Shuuichi back. He couldn't win. The brat distracted him whether or not he was actually present now. It was ridiculous.

There was no answer, no reaction from within.

He opened the door.

Shuuichi lay slumped over the table, strands of rose hued hair trailing across the pages of a book. His breathing was deep and even, and even Yuki had to smile at the endearing picture his lover made. Slightly open mouth, drool and all. He walked over, and gathered the slight form into his arms. It was definitely time for Shuu-chan to go to bed.

He paused, as his eyes automatically picked up a phrase from the book Shuuichi had been reading. It was on the last page.

--"Do you think you can escape from me? Even if you try to escape or die, I'll search and find you. Because I'll never forgive it! Because I love you!"
--

Black flared on amber, and he flipped the book around.

His own name greeted him.

"..You.."

--There was that feeling again - that intense surge of- of something.--

That little sneak.

Well, at least Yuki knew what he had been up to these last few days.

Thoughtfully, Yuki closed the cover of his latest novel. It had been hard to write, but like SNOW, had helped sort himself out. Made money too. He wondered what Shuuichi made of it.

Perhaps he would ask in the morning. Probably not. The little fool would probably babble out his opinion of it soon, anyway.

He rose smoothly to his feet, Shuuichi tucked trustingly in his arms, even in sleep turned into his embrace.

The lovers went to bed.

Owari.


Author's Note: Okay, there is a fic that had practically no point. It was all gratuitous Yuki/Shuuichi fluff in the end wasn't it? Sorry, I felt that the excerpts of Yuki's novel weren't quite as good as I wanted them to be. They were kind of boring...And I had to completely rewrite them too! The first version sucked even more then this one did. Oh well....Ryuuichi is so much fun to write. I hope he was in character. Wow, I actually finished a fic! Will wonders never cease....I think for my next Gravi story, I want to write a Nittle Grasper beginnings fic. Would you all be interested?

Review Reply:

Blueraingurl: Yeah, I couldn't really see him telling Shuuichi the kind of things he writes. It wasn't really all that much more light hearted. Dang.

5:38AM : I rather liked where I ended it actually. *evil grin* Well, sorry if KOIBITO was disappointing...it ended up being a recap of Gravi.

silvercross:......idea? There was an idea to this?

panatlantic: Thank you!

Wakuchan: ^___^ back at you.

katie: promising....uh...i'll leave the final judgement up to you.

Katsumi: Give up reading fanfiction! O.o I'll admit there's a lot of junk, but there's so many GOOD fics out there too! *nudge nudge* Ne, are you going to update Hitori? You got me reading Gravi fics properly.

Megamie: Heehee. Thank you.

P.S Speare: Beautifully fluid...smooth ....*big teary eyes* you silver tongued devil you. ^__^

Meriennut: Moulin Rouge! Oh yeah!....Or not quite. Yuki singing....a scary thought. And of course we have to be sympathetic to poor Yuki...*cries* damn you Kitazawa.

Midnight Tigress, Green: Thank you! Sorry the update took so long.

Bakayaro Onna, e?: It is isn't it?

Kelly: O.O NOT WATCH GRAVI!!!!?????? Shame! Shame! How could you not! Oooooh....Steal your friends copy of Gravi now!

Ayako: .....Yeah! GO ME!!!!!

Sakura, Sephy: You idiots. I don't have to reply to you guys, 'cos your my friends.

Kiora: Ah! Perfectly portrayed....thankyou! I tried really hard to keep them in character.

novasenshi: Eeek! *runs away while NS is spluttering*

LB, jmccall93, incoherence, ChibiKitty, Kamikakushi, kazuki: Sorry for the group reply, but I have to get off, my mom is starting to yell...Thanks for all the encouragement, it really helps! And there! I updated!

Shenya: *cheesy grin* Reviews never go astray. I read every one, rest assured.

Thanks for reviewing everyone!