Disclaimer: Gravitation is a Maki Murakami work and not my own. Oh, and neither are the titles of these stories-all taken from X Japan songs-why should I stop using them now?



Phantom of Guilt



Impatiently he waited, rocking from one foot to the other and clutching his hands into fists in anticipation of the morning arrival at Tokyo International Airport. Despite it only being sometime before seven, fresh energy coursed through his veins from a long and replenishing night's rest. Waiting chairs could not hold him and barely could the refined insipid blond man standing next to him in his fashionable mauve dress shirt and black pants, accentuated by an expensive long black coat with feathered- trimmed cuffs and collar that hung loosely off his shoulders, oozing taste and affluence.

"Do not worry, Ryuichi," Seguchi Tohma, the President of NG Records smiled, attempting to keep his Nittle Grasper band member and dear friend still by ruffling the man's velvet emerald highlighted hair with a gloved hand. "Their plane just landed. Give them time to retrieve their things and make it here to the entrance."

"Tohma!" the childlike man exclaimed as if he forgotten he was there. Sakuma Ryuichi did not appear to be in his thirties, neither did Tohma, but while both kept their teenage youth, Ryuichi was lost in child innocence. To this day Tohma couldn't believe that this person could drip with sex appeal in front of millions of fans across the world on stage but act the way he did off stage. Tohma did nothing to expel his companion's behavior, and willingly answered Ryuichi's personal pal Kumagorou, the pink-stuffed bunny that was currently poking out of his loving owner's olive parka. "Shu-chan will be around to have fun with again. I want to congratulate him on his tour. I even made him a present, see?"

With a look of uncomfortable amazement followed by his usual light giggle, Tohma viewed the crayon-colored sign of vibrant yellows and oranges exclaiming 'Bad Luck is #1' with a portrait of the three members done by Ryuichi's hand. "How thoughtful," he commented.

"Kumagorou and I missed singing with Shuichi. We wanted to visit him on stage."

"I know, but I wanted no interference this time," Tohma explained. "Shindou-san needs to learn to hold his own and become more bold, on stage that is. He's highly improved and the tour was a great success, according to the sales and press. I'm sorry to ruin your fun."

"Nah, Ryu-chan and I aren't mad," Ryuichi said in Kumagorou's voice, patting the bunny's head. "I hope Shuichi doesn't mind that we've come to pick him up. As glad as I'm going to be seeing him again, I think he'll be wishing for someone else."

Averting his gaze, Tohma sighed. "Eiri-san's situation can't be helped. He'll understand. Speaking of which, I should call my wife to see how things are in Kyoto."

"Hey Tohma! We're going to go surprise them at baggage claim to give you privacy while you make your phone call."

Grabbing the man's collar, Tohma kept him in place like he was babysitting a son. "I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't want you getting lost or recognized."

"I'll keep low," he whispers, pointing at his face. "I'll leave my cool sunglasses on and no one will ever know it's me. Please Tohma."

Giving into his friend, Tohma let go, his lips making a firm line of fretfulness. "I'll arrange for our driver to pick us up closer to the west gates then, and I'll meet you down there. Don't start boarding planes to Hawaii or stopping in duty-free shops. Here, wear this." Removing his favorite black brim hat, Tohma placed it on Ryuichi's head.

"Wow! Tohma's the best!" he cheered.

"Remember, quiet," Tohma said in a firm tone.

"Quiet," Ryuichi whispered with a wink, sneaking away backwards before facing in the direction he was traveling, coolly walking away with his hands in his pockets, trying to mimic the aura of Tohma now that he was wearing his hat.

* * *

When their plane touched down in Tokyo, Bad Luck awoke to the beginning of a sunrise; the red sun was bold in front of the blue-violet haze outside the floor length glass windows, as they traveled from the plane to the escalators. It was an early start to the day, but there wasn't a concert to prepare for this time, so everyone was glad to be returning to home before work took priority once again, staying at ease.

Weary Japanese business men, yawning children and their mothers filed through the halls in search of food or taxis, and weaving between them all was a disguised Shindou Shuichi. Unlike the night in Osaka, Tokyo International Airport wasn't compacted by people to stand in his way. Occasionally there were shouts to slow down, most coming from Sakano and K, who threatened to put him on a leash if he didn't act more professional. Usually Shuichi would obey, but there was more than one reason to keep up his speed.

Window watching that night took up most of the time he could have gotten a decent night sleep, combined with guilt. There was something more to it than lying to Hiro. Shuichi was still trying to figure out exactly what it was. His night was dreamless and utterly quiet. The rest of night was spent trying to write by whatever light the tiny airplane window had to offer, but nothing came. He was trying too hard to write words for a love song and those meek and passé lyrics were now hidden under scribbled lines of Shuichi's frustration. Pure adrenaline kept him moving to his destination, and nothing about yesterday would sour it.

Seeing Aizawa didn't bring back horrible memories, something Hiro was fishing for during what felt like an interrogation last night, but baffled thoughts did creep to mind, a source of his insomnia. Meeting Aizawa in Osaka made Shuichi remember the sorrowful look on face. It was real. The apology was real. The only thing that felt imaginary was how the scenario was played in his mind overlapped with the idea that this was the man who took pictures of his crime. That single roll of film was always a mystery to Shuichi. What happened to that role of film Eiri recovered?

It didn't matter anymore he assured himself. Everyone had a secret. Secrets don't have to hurt others like some think. Lying to Hiro would never happen again, he promised himself, but keeping this one solitary fib would be all right. It wasn't going to spread out of control. Hiro probably didn't like thinking about that night anymore than he did, so Shuichi was sure Hiro wouldn't talk about it with anyone else. If Hiro could be proud of the pretend words he claimed to have said to Aizawa, then all the better. Yes, things would surely be okay, but Shuichi's guilt for lying and his pathetic feeling were propelling him to avoid the guitarist.

He was more than prepared to breakdown and cry in front of Hiro last night, profusely apologizing. Actually, no, that wasn't it. That was only what Shuichi wanted to do. When he considered going through with it, it seemed wrong. Others would hear his weeping and want to know what was the matter. If he said something, Hiro would try to fix things for him, and Shuichi didn't want that. He would stay silent. Once he moved past this on his own and by his own means, he would surely be able to write again.

But more important than the writing, or the shouting from his superiors, or the risk of the baseball cap flying off his head as he ran was the thought of the solitary person he was searching for within the throng, the one person who wasn't waiting at the gate for a loved one.

Scurrying sneakers pounded against the descent of steps of the moving escalator, unable to wait the ride. Warm thoughts began to replace the cold. It was so easy to imagine the smell of cigarette smoke and spicy cologne mingling together, the feel of silky blond hair, the look of an almost predatory gaze from hazel-gold eyes and the sound of a cool, distinct voice that could be hard like a raging flood or placid like the ripples on a pond.

'Yuki,' Shuichi thought with longing. 'Yuki will make everything all right.'

In his hasty flight, a passerby's suitcase hit Shuichi's legal-sized notepad, knocking it from his hand and causing it to slide away. Spinning around on his heel, Shuichi pursued it, tripping forward to retrieve it from the floor.

"Whoa Shuichi," Hiro called, dropping down in front of him to grab the papers. "Can't you wait for me? Slow down."

"All right," Shuichi said in a rush, attempting to pull the pad out from under Hiro's hand.

"Hey listen to me," he smiled, gesturing that he pay attention with his eyes. He didn't want to look or slow down, but Shuichi relaxed, taking the time to breathe. "Just because Yuki-san wasn't waiting at the gate doesn't mean that you have to run all the way home and leave the rest of us chasing after you. You look tired. Don't force yourself to get sick."

"Will you carry me the rest of the way if I do?" Shuichi joked.

"What am I, your porter? I'm already carrying the bag you left on the plane," he complained, tossing a red backpack to him, the heaviness knocking Shuichi to his rear. "With all the junk in this bag, maybe it'll weigh you down."

He was such a good friend, always looking out for him. The guilty feeling was rising again, but he mustered up a phony smile as he stood, slinging the bag onto his back.

"You forget your bag, but this has been glued to your hand since last night. Wow!" Hiro interjected, flipping through the pad he recovered, seeing the curled up corners of the yellow pages, obviously viewed several times and filled with scribbles and doodles in the margins. "You've filled practically every page. 'An invisible moon is obscured by the clouds of black pain---,'" he began to recite, trying to make out the messy handwriting.

"It's not ready," he snapped, snatching it from Hiro's hold. "I don't like that line anyway."

"You always let me look over your work. Maybe I could give you some critiques so you can---"

"No!" Shuichi protested. "I said I'll let you see it when it's ready, okay?"

"Okay," Hiro answered, confused by the harsh glare.

Seeing the questionable appearance on the guitarist's face, Shuichi sighed, rubbing the back of his hand across his weary eyes. "Sorry, I suppose I am a bit on edge from not sleeping. I guess being forced to sleep an extra night in a chair has me a little on edge. I didn't mean to bite your head off."

"Sleeping on Yuki's couch must be promising," Hiro laughed at the irony. "And if that song is so important to you, I can wait to see the finished product. I guess you'll let Yuki see it first, though you know he'll be very judgmental. Are you really going to tell him what happened with Aizawa?"

That was a good question. He began to fidget. "Nothing happened with Aizawa."

"I'd say differently," Hiro commented. "You said some pretty strong stuff. He must have gotten you heated to say what you did."

Shuichi averted his eyes. "I-I guess I'll tell him. I don't know. We only ran into each other when---Oh no! Yuki!" Shuichi suddenly blurted, smacking his forehead, realizing his horrible mistake. "Yuki wasn't at the gate because I never called. Hiro! I didn't call."

Hearing the high-pitched whine, Hiro stepped back. "Like I told you yesterday, Yuki-san probably heard about the rain delay. Sakano-san had called Seguchi-san when he tried to accept the blame of the sudden downpour in Osaka, and Seguchi-san most likely has called Yuki-san to let him know we are here."

Jumping through emotions, Shuichi's expression went bright. "Maybe he's at baggage claim!"

"Wait!" Hiro protested, grabbing the black baseball cap from Shuichi's head.

"What are you---?"

"Switch disguises---You take these instead," he ordered, removing the black sunglasses that rested on top of his head and placing them on Shuichi's face. "You don't want Yuki-san to see you with bags under your eyes, do you?"

"Thanks Hiro!" he said, his energy returning to his legs again. He only made it three steps before he was heaved backwards and met the stern face of his manager.

"Shindou Shuichi," K admonished. "Quit running off on me and act your age. Be lucky I have nothing to threaten you with but my bare hands."

"But K-san, I need to find Yu--"

"Yuki Eiri has no standings with me, so don't sulk. I will lead us to baggage claim, and I will 'personally' take you myself," K grinned, pushing Shuichi forward to walk as he held tightly to the handhold of his backpack, ignoring the singer's comments he was pushing too fast and that it was demeaning.

"Ah! K-san, don't hurt him," bawled Sakano as the fearful Japanese man stumbled after them, looking exhausted.

"Well, I'm going to go find a bathroom," Suguru said, who calmly arrived at the scene. "It was a long flight and chasing after those two isn't helping."

"I know what you mean," Hiro commented, feeling a bit squirmy as well. "Sakano-san?"

"Huh?" the tired producer mumbled.

"We'll meet up with you in a bit. Get our bags please."

"Okay," he answered, parting from the two to catch up with the odd couple up ahead.

"Still no freedom of choice?" asked Suguru, taking a brief glimpse at the display.

The two recoiled as they heard K shout, "Of course not!"

* * *

Packs of people that were on the same flight with Bad Luck looped around the winding conveyor belts, where suitcases and bags slid down ramps, waiting for an owner before it had to repeat the course a second time. K made sure the arrangements on the plane would be filled with mostly old gentlemen or young children who never listened to or heard of the J-Rock band, though on occasion there was the scary site of a drunken office worker recognizing Shuichi and requesting a song. Luckily, none such fanatics were on their flight, but there were still stares coming from those who saw a whining cherry-haired young man trying to shake off a towering American in a disheveled white dress shirt and cerulean tie that suited him well.

"We're here," Shuichi glowered. "Now let me go K-san. This isn't funny."

"I think it is," K voiced. "It's like walking my dog back home."

"I'm not a dog," he whimpered, pulling forward.

"Now go and roam my pet!" he said in English, letting go of his hold, causing Shuichi to stumble forward. "Go find your master."

"Yuki?" Shuichi hollered, ignoring the sight of his luggage that would eventually be picked up by Sakano. He jumped to look over those blocking his view, calling for Eiri with a large smile, searching for his lover. People were in his way. Shuichi hopped onto the conveyor belt, letting it move him while he tried to find one individual out of many, ignoring the complaints of the other people. "Yuki? Hey Yuki? Where are you?" The imaginable senses were there, but not the sight of the actual romance writer. Even while wearing the shadowy filter of the sunglasses, Eiri should have been easy to find.

And yet he was nowhere.

Leaping down from the moving stand, Shuichi cursed himself for not making the phone call; cursing Aizawa for allowing him to miss it; cursing Hiro for making assumptions that got his hopes up. This was his own fault, or at least that was how he felt. What if Eiri thought he didn't call in the last few days because he was evading him or what if Eiri knew but decided not to come? Shuichi really needed him right now. What if he thought his work was more important than him? Shortly before Shuichi was distracted by work from calling, the answering machine was responding to the phone calls he made. It's been three months. Shouldn't Eiri be excited to see him? He let this happen. Freezing up in front of Aizawa not only made him develop writer's block but it deterred him from calling Eiri, because he was unsure to tell him what happened. Did Aizawa somehow separate him from Eiri again?

"I've got you Shuichi!" said a sudden voice.

Hands clasped over his glasses and someone slammed up against him so fast that he fell to one knee. The suffocating thoughts about Eiri, the meeting with Aizawa and shock of the pounce caused him to panic. Shuichi let out a yelp, pried the hands from his eyes and tried to stand. In his attempt, the bulging crimson backpack and force of standing knocked back his assailant right towards the back of K, who both went down in the tumble.

Falling forward on his knees again, Shuichi clenched a hand in his pink hair, that same pink hair Aizawa warned would cause something like this to happen, and what made him sick was that he not only proved him right, but he let it get to him.

TO BE CONTINUED

Please REVIEW! If you're not satisfied with the ending to this chapter, don't fret! Chapter 3 was actually a very long chapter, so I cut the second half of it off and made it into chapter 4. In short, chapter 4 is ready, but I want more reviews. Come on people, are a total of 7 the best you can do? I loved the nice words you sent last time. Give me more!

You all can tell that I like to try to be original so this story isn't going to be about Shuichi suddenly having nightmares about being raped or anything like that since you see that in most stories, even though from time-to-time I might mention something about it. However, you can see it's more about his troubles with not dealing with it when he had the chance and the side effect of his meeting with Aizawa.

Aren't you happy with me? ^_^