Forgive me readers for I have sinned.  It's been WAY too long since my last update of this story.  I apologize.  I have had a lot going on in my life.  Anyway, I am giving this another go, and while I don't deserve any of my readers to come back and give me another shot, I'm hoping to get them back or at least get a few new readers.  Enjoy!

Disclaimer:  Gravitation is not mine.  The title of the chapter is named after an X-Japan song.  That is not mine.

Amethyst

Yuki Eiri cursed the invention of the cell phone.  Similar to bugs they were small; came in various colors; emitted various noises; and not everyone were thankful for what they did.  The concept of the phone was worth praise, though many nagging calls could make him think otherwise.  On the other hand, shrinking it down and making it mobile was not.  Eiri didn't appreciate people able to reach him anytime, anywhere and it added to public noise, another nuisance.

Now was the exact proof for his opinion.

Slowly his black Mercedes-Benz traveled single file down the highway through heave Japan traffic.  It was heavier than most days, if possible in a crowded country like Japan, because of a traffic accident.  Even as the cops and traffic workers tended to the mess and detoured the cars around the scene, traffic ahead still proceeded at a less than average speed.  Fate seemed to purposely delaying him from his destination.  He was just exiting Kyoto and all the while through the irritating slow traffic and foreboding gray storm skies Eiri's cell phone continued to ring.

It was Tatsuha, but he hoped his flu-recovering brother would cease and desist.  It was his family that made him get the phone and the ones who called him most often, even more than Shuichi.  Eiri used to turn it off all the time but if he didn't leave it on his home answering machine would be bombarded with complaints.  Leave it to Tatsuha to live up to the tradition.

After six failed attempts and retries, Tatsuha's call was finally answered.  "Tell me your dying and this is your last phone call," said Eiri as he began to move past the crash site.

"Depriving this world of your baby brother would be a terrible sin," said the seventeen-year-old man, his voice scratchy from weeks of being swollen.

Eiri would roll his eyes if he weren't watching the car in front of him.  Shouldn't you be resting or taking care of father with Mika?"

"If the tone of your voice wasn't implying 'any activity that would get you off the phone Tatsuha,' I would be touched by your concern," he complained.

A smirk came on Eiri's face.  Perhaps cell phone did have one shining aspect:  they hid reactions caused by family that shouldn't be seen.  "Whatever gets you through the day."

"That's exactly why I'm calling," his brother began, pausing to cough.  "You just got up and left without telling me, when you know I'm sick and you purposely forgot to take my welcome home present for Shuichi."

"First of all," started Eiri, his agitation rising as he switched lanes, "you knew for over a week I was leaving today.  Secondly, if your able to bother me on my cell in the middle of traffic, you aren't that sick, you baby.  Lastly, buying a welcome home card loses its meaning when you buy it for your own selfish reasons.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Tatsuha replied unconvincingly.

"You signed it 'Love Tatsuha.  P.S. I love you Shu-chan.  Tell Ryuichi the same.'  Nice try."

"Hey I care," laughed Tatsuha.  "I know you want Shuichi to yourself, but I'm calling to give you fair warning."

"About what?" callously asked Eiri.  After finally making it past the traffic and reaching and adequate speed, he couldn't think what his brother would have to say to bring him back down.

"I overheard Mika talking to one of her gal pals after you left."

"Spying I'm sure," quipped Eiri.

"I'm sick.  I live at a quiet temple.  She's taking care of us.  I was bound to overhear her in the next room," Tatsuha replied lightly.  "Anyway, she was talking about Nittle Grasper going on tour and with Tohma leaving and her having to stay here to take care of father that…"

"Don't say it!  Don't you dare!" ordered Eiri, gripping the wheel hard, sensing impending doom.

"She's considering asking me to stay at your place so I don't end up getting the flu again for about a week," he said all in one breath.

"No!" Eiri denounced.

"Your place is germ free," pointed out Tatsuha.

"And it is going to stay that way.  I paid my dues.  You don't think I know you had a hand in this?  Mika's consideration is because of you!"  Plus the fact Mika didn't approve of his relationship with Shuichi and would love to make an excuse to have a reason to check in on him.

"Oh come on!" Tatsuha cried, coughing again.  Eiri believed it wasn't genuine anymore.  "It's boring here and I'm getting over being sick.  I don't want to repeat it."

"No!" he repeated firmly.  He couldn't bear to spend his free time with Shuichi under the same roof as Tatsuha, who would surely get Shuichi riled up and destroy his apartment.

"Fine," said Tatsuha, much more coolly than Eiri expected.  "As your brother, I can understand your personal space.  However, as your brother who's a monk I plan on cursing your ass until you see the light."

"Goodbye Tatsuha," Eiri dismissed.

"Bye bye brother!"

Dropping the phone on the passenger seat, Eiri fumed.  Three months Eiri did something for everyone else:  meeting with his editor in time for her to get his finished book; sitting through Shuichi's long phone conversations; taking care of his brother and father.  Mika and Tatsuha had the nerve to intrude on his free time; the time he wanted to spend at home; time with three-months-away-Shuichi.  While he wasn't one to tell Shuichi of the plans he had with him, Eiri wanted to be with the loud mouth pink hair kid.  It felt normal.  Though normal wasn't usually in his vocabulary, it was worth a try.  He would have his hands full with Shuichi.  Tatsuha could wait.  Traffic ahead began to thin and that was a good sign.

Suddenly Eiri's Mercedes seemed to jump on the right, then slowly sink.  "What…" He muttered, urging whatever happened to his car wouldn't land him dead in the middle of a new accident with him the victim.


Luckily he was able to pull over to the side.  Turning off the engine, he exited his car.  Rounding the black automobile, the cause of the jump was apparent.  Squatting, Eiri examined his back rear tire going flat.  "Wonderful," he groaned, reaching into his front shirt pocket. 

In his hand was a pack of cigarettes, while his other searched for the lighter in his coat.  Once he found the gold case, he took a cigarette and pocketed the pack.  Just as he was about to light the stick between his lips, Eiri took another look at the flat wheel.  "Tatsuha?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.


Shaking the silly thought away, Eiri lit the cancerous yet soothing drug.  "Whatever," he scoffed as he went the trunk of the car, exhaling a swirl of smoke.  Changing the tire would take time and he wasn't going to ponder over something he didn't believe.  Tatsuha wouldn't even have the time to cast a ridiculous spell.

Just as he removed his coat and took the spare tire from the trunk, the sky rumbled and a cold drop landed on Eiri's head.  Then another and another fell.  Soon cold rain poured down everywhere, drenching him and extinguishing his calming cigarette.


Eiri flicked it away, annoyed.  "I hate family," he muttered.  "Cursed cell phone."

* * *

The Fujisaki estate was out of a rich and famous magazine, a mansion compared to the other surrounding Tokyo suburb homes.  The NG van assisted Suguru and his cousin with his things before Tohma thanked and dismissed the driver.  As the black van pulled out of the driveway, Suguru wished he could hurry after it.  Instead the pair stood at the door under the awning, protected from the early rain.

"Don't seem so tense," Tohma began, looking over Suguru's stance as he rung the bell.  "It's breakfast, not an inquisition." 

A short thin woman opened the door in a short sleeve cashmere pink sweater and knee length gray shirt with chin length black hair.  Her thin hands went on Suguru's shoulders.  "Welcome home," she greeted lightly with a peck on his cheek from her petite lips.

"Hello mother," returned Suguru.

"How wonderful it is to see you Tohma!" she exclaimed, kissing his cheek next and then walking inside.  "You two are late.  Breakfast is cold.  Whatever took you?"

Suguru flashed a raised eyebrow to his cousin, who laughed lightly and entered the home.  "At least we beat the rain."

"Not an inquisition huh?" he whispered.  "Five little minutes late…"

"Come in you two before you catch a cold.  Sara, come get my son's things," his mother ordered their maid.  The home was lavishly furnished in a Victorian fashion.  The two removed their coasts and shoes in the foyer.  Ushering the two toward the dining table, food awaited them with tea.  Taking his seat across from his mother, Suguru could see his family wasn't wasting any time.

"Sorry but we had others to take home," explained Tohma, serving himself a cup of tea.

"Others?" the woman questioned.

"My band mates," clarified Suguru, placing an egg on his plate.  If he didn't eat something his mother would start her story that he looked to thin.  He acted calm and polite though bothered by his mother's question.  To think she could forget how he told her time after time about them disturbed him.

"Those two boys didn't want to join us?" asked a middle-aged gentleman with thinning black hair in a jacketless suit coming to the table.  "Next time invite them Suguru.  Let us meet these interesting members of yours."

"Hello father," Suguru greeted.

"Tohma, how's your business," his father asked.  Switching topics so quickly, Suguru could sense the demeaning conversation of his work arising.

"Quite well," Tohma answered with his usual smile.  "You should thank your son and Bad Luck for that."


Suguru was grateful his cousin was trying to help, but it would fall on deaf ears.

"You've been away so long that you must be exhausted," his mother said.

"It's good for him," his father asserted, momentarily surprising Suguru.  "This hobby of his might lead him to a real living like Tohma here."


Suguru sighed, his surprise vanishing.  "This is my living," he stated.

"Yes," his mother added, "he'll become a great pianist in a symphony orchestra one day just like I always dreamed."

Solemnly looking over at Tohma, the blond simply continued to drink his tea while pleading with his eyes to bear with the meal.  His family conditioned Suguru for classical music but his love was elsewhere.  He had to buy his first keyboard to work on his music, because his parents couldn't understand why he would need one when there was a perfectly good grand piano in the study.

"Well Tohma can make sure he learns good business skills," continued his father.  "He can't tour all the time."

"I'm actually touring in the next few days," commented Tohma.

"Elbows off the table Tohma," the woman interrupted.  "Proper manners remember?"  Tohma blinked and did as she ordered.  Suguru stifled a laugh as Tohma cleared his throat.  It wasn't everyday Suguru got to see Tohma be the one reprimanded by his parents, even if it wouldn't last long.

"That's a shame," his father said.  "I was hoping you would join us this week with your lovely wife."

"Join us where?" Suguru inquired, almost choking on his food.

"We thought you would come visit the Kawahara's and meet their daughter," his mother began.  "Then we have tickets to the symphony.  I'm glad you got a haircut but you look awfully pale.  Did you rest properly?  Maybe we should take you…"

"I'm sure you have plenty of nice ideas mother," interjected Suguru with forced kindness.  "I'm fine.  Good enough to still work even.  I've got some plans with Shindou-san."

"Shindou-san?" she asked, trying to recollect the name.

"My band member," sighed Suguru.

"Tohma tell him this work of his can wait," his father declared.

Tohma simply continued to smile.  Suguru rubbed his forehead.  "Shindou-san, please think fast and save me," he whispered.

"Don't cover your face at the table," his mother ordered.

* * *

"Tadaima—I've returned home," shouted Shuichi, poking his head in the front door of Eiri's flat.  His beaming face went crestfallen.  The lights were off and the place was cold and dark.  "That's right.  Yuki's not here."

Entering the empty apartment, Shuichi deposited his shoes, luggage and backpack in the foyer.  Eiri would be mad at him for carelessly leaving his things by the doorway.  He promised himself he would remove them before Yuki returned from Kyoto, but was too tired to do it then and there.

Flicking on the light switches and opening the curtains in the living room, Shuichi took the time to get reacquainted with the room he departed three months ago.  The entire elevator ride up felt peculiar.  The small box was filled with silence.


Silence was usually unsettling for him.  However, he was thankful for the short minutes alone where he didn't feel as if he had to act or hide.  He expected to have been overcome by a remorseful guilt like at the airport earlier for saying nothing to his friends about the shameful feeling of letting his past memories and Taki get to him.  It almost had, but then he would think about Tohma's words, an odd pinch to wake him up.

Being back in Eiri's apartment made him believe Tohma.  He didn't want to lose this.  If he could get through a long car ride, he could get through without tipping off Eiri, or at least he hoped.

Now the silence was a bit unnerving, which Shuichi took as a good sign he was himself.  "Hello couch," he waved, looking at the corner angle sofa.  "Did you miss me?"  Going over to it, he pushed the center of the cushions, feeling for the dents he made from often sleeping on them.  "I sure did miss you.  Yuki kept the place really neat I see."

Traveling to the kitchen, he opened the fridge door.  It was mostly empty except for a few cans of beer and half-eaten chocolate bar.  Eiri did like his beer and sweets.  "Oh he hasn't eaten without me," cooed Shuichi, then shutting the door.  "Of course, he hasn't been home to need any food here."

Down the hall he went, a smile growing all the way.  "Yuki's study!" he addressed, bouncing into the room, wishing the writer would magically be there.  He could picture the tall cool blond at his desk, typing away at his laptop another best-selling novel.  But it was empty, diminishing his happiness.  The answering machine had no messages.  "I've been away for three months.  You would think he leave me something to do."

Sighing, he headed to the bedroom.  Collapsing on the firm bed, Shuichi stared up at the ceiling.  "Well room, I'm back.  I had a good trip.  Sold out concerts, screaming fans and making my friends and company proud always feels good," he started, resting his head on his arms.  "But Seguchi-san knows my secret.  How could I have been so stupid to talk to Aizawa?  Letting what he did to me in the past get to me now is even dumber!  He was acting so nice and Seguchi-san wants to help me with Yuki…  I'm in the Twilight Zone."

It was all so confusing to him.  IN the shadowed room he noticed Yuki's closet was open.  Rolling off the bed, he went to it.  His hands brushed at the hanging shirts.  Grasping on to one of the sleeves, Shuichi took a deep smell of it.  Smells exactly the same, he thought lovingly, inhaling the scent of fresh laundry that had picked up the smoky odor of tobacco.  Yuki wouldn't really push me away if I told him would he?  Seguchi-san says I'll lose him, hurting him just as he finally is better.  I don't want to lose Yuki because I didn't listen to him.

The bad thoughts were worming their way back into his mind.  Rushing from the bedroom, Shuichi went into the bathroom.  Turning on the sink, he splashed cool water on his face, distracting him for a brief moment.  A glance at himself in the mirror caught his attention.  His eyes looked tired from little sleep.  This was all over Aizawa and that nagged at Shuichi.  He remember his stupid comments to the ASK singer and the ones returned to him.

Then an idea sparked in his head, his violet eyes going wide as he thought of the advice Tohma offered him.  He already convinced him to work with Suguru.  While he didn't plan on doing that at the moment, it was a changing distraction.  Another one might help.  "Maybe Seguchi-san is right," he whispered, his hand going to his lush pink hair.

Quickly drying off his face, Shuichi returned to the living room's foyer, his idea driving him.  Hastily unzipping his backpack, Shuichi searched for his wallet, dumping all the contents out on the floor.  Once he found it and put on his sneakers, Shuichi exited the apartment.

He was going to buy some groceries and a new change.

* * *

By late evening, all of Tokyo was drenched from the storm.  Damp and cold, a tired Yuki Eiri made his way from the elevator to his flat.  Caught in a sneeze, he couldn't wait to change into dry clothes and rest in his apartment.  After a week of putting up with his father hassling him, Mika's unwelcome advice, Tatsuha's lame attempt to come home with him and a flat tire, he wanted a moment's peace.

Brushing his damp strands from his eyes, Eiri used his key.  Opening and closing the door, he slid his long black coat from his shoulders and removed his shoes.  As he searched for the light switch, something under his foot caused him to slip.  Eiri fell, landing on a messy pile of clothes, trinkets and CDs.  Rubbing the shoulder he fell on, Eiri rose and flicked the switch, surveying the mess.  He could think of one person who could be so careless to leave his things scattered all over the floor with complete disregard for others.

"Tadaima," he sarcastically muttered under his breath.  Of course, Eiri found it strange that a pink tornado hadn't greeted him, sending him crashing back down in the foyer the moment the door locked behind him. 


The living room was empty as well as the kitchen.  Clearly by the empty bentou box in the trash, signs of life were here.  Getting a beer from the fridge to ease his nerve, he noticed it was full of food.  "At least he did something useful," he smirked, popping the tab.  The bitter liquor he drank took only a slight tension off of him, but before he could enjoy it further a loud annoyed moan sounded from down the hall.

Resting the can on the counter, Eiri went to where the noise emitted.  It was definitely Shuichi's signature cry of complaint.  Eiri couldn't believe he actually missed the whining.  He wondered how long that would last.

The light shined slightly through the half closed door and he could hear water running in his American style bathroom.  "Dammit, this isn't right," complained Shuichi. 

Curious to see what new problem the pink haired kid had this time.  Quietly Eiri pushed the door open.  He flinched in surprise by the site before him.

The pink haired kid he expected wasn't there, at least not exactly.  Shuichi was kneeling over the tub, holding the handheld showerhead, and washing his hair.  Wearing black shorts and a navy tank top, water splashed on his skin and the floor.  A box and bottle were empty next tom him.  Shuichi had dyed his hair but it was far from the hot pink he associated the singer.  He almost didn't recognize him, as if a stranger with Shuichi's voice was in his home. 

By the harsh way Shuichi rubbed his hair and cursed under his breath, it seemed he wasn't happy with his dark purple new look.

"Oi!" Eiri called, still surprised and unable to keep it out of his tone.

Violet eyes looked at him with the same expression as Shuichi wiped around to see his presence.  "Yuki!" he cried, rushing up to stand but only slipping on the water he accumulated on the floor in his haste, crashing to the tiled surface. 

Shaking his head at the display, Eiri stepped over the box and bottle, turning the shower water off.  This was definitely Shuichi.  "What ever are you doing?" he questioned.

Combing his new transformed hair away from his eyes, Shuichi met his gaze from the floor.  After all this time, the kid continued to stare at him in amazement.  "Yuki, your home!" he exclaimed with a nervous laugh, ignoring the question.  Water dripped down his round cheeks and off his chin.  His shirt was soaked from the water that sprayed on him.

"Obviously," he uttered, pulling a gray cotton towel off the towel rack.

"I didn't think you would be home so soon," he commented, unable to look away as Eiri kneeled down in front of him.

"I suppose so with all the junk you left in front of the doorway," Eiri stated, draping the towel around Shuichi's shoulders.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.  "I can explain."

Eiri rested an arm on his knee, taking Shuichi in.  He was actually finding the situation more amusing though Shuichi seemed to think he was angry with him.  Eiri let a hand run through Shuichi hair, who flinched at the touch.  It wasn't from fear but from a loving surprise.  It was endearing in Eiri's mind.  "I'm more interested about this," he said, wiping his hand on the towel, drying the remains of purple water before picking up the box at his side.

"It wasn't suppose to come out like this!" protested Shuichi.  "The stupid box says midnight ruby.  It's supposed to be black!"

"Well it's not," Eiri announced, trying to hide his smirk.  "What possessed you to do this?"

Shuichi looked away at the question, pausing.  "Thought a change might be best to keep low," he answered eventually.  "How bad is it?"

"Well," Eiri began, looking at his hair, "it's kind of black.  Stay out of direct light and maybe no one will notice."  While he wasn't much for sentiment, Eiri felt the urge to touch Shuichi's face, seeing the kid looked oddly upset for something so silly.  Reaching out to him, Eiri raised Shuichi's chin.  "It's not bad.  It's like your eyes."

Shuichi's eyes began to well up as a small smile spread on his face.  "Yuki…" he muttered with a quiver in his voice, before launching himself at him with a much louder, "Yuki!" 

Eiri was knocked backwards into a sitting position from the force.  Sinewy arms tightened around his waist.  "I'm sorry Yuki," started Shuichi.  "I'm getting you wet."

But as Shuichi tried to move back, arms around him kept him pulling away from Eiri impossible.  "Baka, I'm already wet," said Eiri softly, feeling Shuichi resting comfortably against him, gripping his shirt.  It was the truth, and Eiri didn't see why he should have to let Shuichi go when he felt something inside of him he hadn't experienced in months that made him feel happy:  Shuichi's embrace.

Perhaps not everything had changed after all…

TO BE CONTINUED

What did you think?  This is the chapter that had been in my mind since I started the story.  I was thrilled to write it.  Review please! 

I got the idea about the hair from my sister.  A few years back the exact same thing happened to her.  The entire time she was putting it on I thought the dye looked kind of purple, but she wouldn't believe me.  Then after she washed it out and went outside, I could see it actually DID look purple.  It's always funny when it doesn't happen to you, isn't it?  ^_^  Then again, my favorite color is purple.

And I'm sorry but I don't have a beta reader/editor so I probably have a lot of grammar and/or spelling mistakes.  This is a fanfic so don't take that too seriously.

Glad to finally get this baby out there.