Disclaimer: It's Gravitation and so obviously shonen-ai. PG-13. (Some swearing and very strong implication of male/male sexual situations, in this chapter, but nothing graphic). Of course it doesn't belong to me. Gravitation and its characters are the property of Maki Murakami. I am simply a devotee. Please read, enjoy, and review. To those who have: Thank you!! Authors Have Parties Too? Part 7: Chaos in Kyoto

Sunday morning

A loud commotion woke Eiri. It was comprised of two very loud, happy voices, singing and . . . the sound of furniture being moved across the floor . . . ? Eiri rolled out of bed and dressed in his kimono again. He ran one hand through his hair. The digital travel clock in his room read 7:10 am. Bleeech. He headed for the source of the noise.

He didn't get very far before Shuichi threw himself into Eiri's arms, knocking him down and causing him to sit in the hallway, hard, with a hollow thud. Shuichi straddled him, hugging him tightly. "I missed you," the kid whispered into Eiri's ear, snuggling. He clapped a hand over the sensitive ear, casting his rambunctious lover an offended look. The herbal scent of his hair and the deeper, clean scent of his body enveloped Eiri. Shuichi giggled.

"Na no da?" Ryuichi peeked around the wall. "Where's Tat-kun?" He asked in a child-like voice. Eiri and Shu both pointed. "TAT-SU-HA!" Ryuichi sang at the top of his (very considerable) voice. Eiri winced. The older singer stepped over the two men on the floor and slid open the indicated room door.

Miyamoto choose that moment to peek out his own door. "What is all this racke...t?" The grey-haired author took in the pink-haired boy sitting in Eiri's lap on the floor, and the wild-looking adult male with the pink stuffed bunny in his hand, pouncing on a sleeping monk. Miyamoto's eyes grew big, he spluttered, and shut the door with a clap, as the wooden frame of the shoji struck the door frame. Eiri could almost swear that some of the other author's grey hairs had gone white before his eyes.

Shuichi burst out laughing and Eiri chuckled a little. Ryuichi was laughing, too, but shutting the door to Tatsuha's room. They could both hear Tatsuha's just-awake voice, faintly, over Ryuichi's squealing and giggling. Shuichi looked at Eiri very seriously and said, "Ryu's really ticklish."

Eiri grabbed his lover's chin and kissed him. "I'm glad you're here," he said quietly. Shuichi's eyes shined, filling with water. The kid grinned and nearly squeezed the breath out of him.

"Me, too!" He squealed. With spandex shorts on, Eiri could tell how happy he was. Shu shifted his body around a little, rubbing their groins together teasingly. That was dangerous in a loosely-tied kimono.

Eiri pulled Shuichi's arms off his body and kissed the singer's nose. Ug, Eiri thought, we have only been apart for one day and we're acting like . . . Eiri stopped his thought trail. They would be wrecked in no time if he didn't go with the Bad Luck tour. He changed the subject. "Now what were the two of you doing that made so much noise?" Eiri figured he may as well try to minimize any damage.

Shuichi looked sheepish. "Well Kuma— I mean, Ryuichi, wanted to bring presents." Eiri hated it when anyone spoke about a stuffed toy as if it was animate. "I told him he didn't need to, but Kuma— ah, Ryu-kun— insisted that it was lucky. Um . . ."

Eiri sighed. "Let's go see."

Shuichi bounced up like a spring and pulled his sweatshirt down around his hips in a vain attempt to cover his erection. "Okay. Um, Eiri?" Eiri looked up at him from the floor, holding a cigarette against his lips. "Was that the guy who wrote—"Shuichi was pointing to the door Miyamoto had peeked out of.

"Yes," Eiri hissed. He lit his cigarette and got to his feet. Shuichi looked confused. "He's a friend of my father's, I guess." Shu still looked uncertain. Eiri put his hand on Shu's back to propel him forward. "Let's see if we can find some breakfast, instead, okay?"

Shuichi perked up at that. "Yeah! We'd better fix a lot, though, 'cuz Ryuichi and Tatsuha are gonna be hungry in a little bit!" Shuichi looked at him over his shoulder, winked and dashed off to the kitchen. Eiri shook his head. Shu was right. There was no longer the sound of childish laughter from Tatsuha's room. The voices were definitely those of two adults, now. Eiri snorted. Ryuichi was no better at being quiet in bed than his Shuichi. He followed his lover to the kitchen.

The kitchen was the only truly modern room in the building. The floors were tile over wood, instead of traditional tatami mats. 1 There was a modern refrigerator, an old-but-modern stove, plenty of cupboards and lots of counter space. Shuichi was gathering pans and dishes. "Eiri! Can you make one of those American-style breakfasts, like you sometimes do for me? I saw lots of eggs in the 'fridge. Ryuichi would really like that. He told me he likes scrambled eggs. I can make some—"

"YOU won't do anything, except carry the dishes, Idiot." Eiri tied his kimono sleeves back with a ribbon of cloth. "Yes, I can make American-style breakfast," he said indulgently. It actually sounded good to him, this morning. Shuichi jumped backward to sit on the counter, away from the stove. Eiri leaned against another counter, finishing his cigarette before he cooked. "How was your trip here?"

"Oh. Not very much fun," Shuichi replied contritely. "Sakuma-san drove." He drives?? The very thought of Sakuma behind the wheel of a car disturbed Eiri. "You know how his face gets all scary?" Shuichi pulled his face with his fingers. "He was all serious, concentrating. He said he likes riding better, but K-san said, 'NO! Do you know what time it is!'" Shuichi did a credible imitation of his manager's voice. "—and he got all mad 'cuz we called him, but the car rental place didn't mind, since they're open all the time, and it was really easy . . ."

Eiri smoked his cigarette, listening to Shuichi carry on. He was glad that Sakuma took driving seriously. Then Shu's rambling caught his attention again, ". . . but the shrine didn't fit too well, and we kinda scraped the paint, trying to get it in the trunk—"

"The what?"

"Ryu calls it the 'trunk'— you know, the boot? The back of the car, where the bags go—"

"Idiot! I know what the trunk is! Did you say shrine?"

Shuichi stopped kicking the cupboard. "Yeah . . ." he said cautiously. Eiri rubbed his forehead then put his cigarette out. "It's not too garish, or anything," Shuichi rushed to defend whatever urge had prompted the two of them to transport a shrine in the trunk of a rented sports car. "Ryuichi looked at some that were really brightly decorated, with lots of gold paint and designs, but this one's not like that. It's one of those wall-mounted cabinets you're supposed to put stuff in to honor your family ancestors, ya know?" Eiri looked at him, disgustedly. He may not look like it, but he was Japanese and knew exactly what Shu was talking about. He may not act like it, but he was still a qualified Buddhist monk, too. Shuichi certainly didn't need to explain such things to him. Shu misinterpreted the look, though. "Hey! I told him he didn't need to bring presents, and he knew we were coming to a temple and all—"

Eiri shook his head again. "Dummy," he said calmly. That explained the sound of furniture being dragged around. They had probably scuffed up the tatami mats, too. "Don't worry about it. I'll let my father deal with it." Maybe the old man would even have a use for it, Eiri thought. It was a really generous gift; those things weren't cheap. "You get the eggs out; I'll cook. You can start the coffee, too. The coffee maker is in that cupboard." Eiri pointed.

Shuichi smiled brightly again, probably relieved Eiri wasn't upset with him. He pulled out the coffee pot and set it up. Eiri asked Shu about the visit with his family, knowing the simple question would keep Shu talking for . . . a long time. The essence of the monologue that followed was: everyone was fine.

Eiri was tending eggs and chicken-sausage when Mika entered the kitchen, yawning. She was back in her usual attire of a mini-skirt and blouse. Her hair was a little messy and she wasn't wearing any makeup, but she looked more like herself than she had last night, playing the role of a dutiful, traditional daughter.

"Good morning, Shuichi-kun," she said, unsurprised to see him here. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose. "What's that awful smell?"

Shuichi stopped his chop-stick drum beat and humming to respond. "Good morning, Mika-san. It's not an awful smell! It's American-style breakfast. . . . It's just different."

"Uhg! How can they eat that stuff first thing in the morning? How can you? Can't we have some tuna, or something?" She poked her head into the refrigerator.

"You can fix some for father and his guest, too, then," Eiri told her. She grumbled, but complied.

"ICE CREAM!"

Mika froze in place for a moment. "No," she whispered. Eiri turned in time to see her eyelid twitch. Oh, sweet revenge, he thought. "He's really here, isn't he?" Mika asked Shuichi, forlornly.

"Yep," Shu chirped happily. "Ryu-kun and I came together!"

Mika threw back her head and groaned, but her noise was kind-of lost against Ryuichi's chant of, "ICE CREAM, ICE CREAM, ICE CREAM . . . !" It got louder until the older singer arrived in the kitchen with a squeal. Ending his chant, he went to search the freezer. Tatsuha came in behind him, dressed in jeans and t-shirt, smiling widely. Ryu pulled his head out of the freezer, shaking it sadly. "No ice cream for Kumagorou, no na da," he announced.

"But Eiri's so sweet, he made American-style breakfast for us!" Shuichi said to cheer him up.

"Oh, yum!" He inhaled the cooking smells happily. Mika rolled her eyes. "Tat-kun, we can have eggs and sausage for breakfast!" Ryu grabbed Tatsuha's hands and danced him in circles. Tatsuha didn't look too sure about eggs for breakfast, but he was willing to try it. Mika lit a cigarette and poured coffee for herself. She looked like a shock victim. Eiri dished out breakfast. The other two people in the house should be joining them shortly . . . for one reason or another, Eiri thought.

About the time the breakfast trays had been set out, and everyone was settling down to eat, the Uesugi patriarch appeared. "More guests, I see," he said flatly, kneeling before his tray-table and settling his robes.

"Good morning!" Ryu and Shu crowed, nearly in unison. The old monk looked at all of them. Ryu was so close to Tatsuha, he was practically sitting in the monk's lap, and there was a lot of casual touching between the two of them. Between Eiri and Shu was the palpably close warmth and comfort of an established relationship. Mika sat alone, across from her brothers and their lovers, eating quietly. There was no sign of Miyamoto.

"Good morning," Uesugi replied. He frowned, "What is that smell?"

"American breakfast; eggs and sausage," Mika grumbled. "Don't worry, father, I fixed tuna for us and Miyamoto-san."

The patriarch sighed. "I just spoke with Ranmaru-san. He has decided to leave. Eiri, he came to me, hoping we could dissuade you from blocking his book." The old monk frowned and held up his hand to forestall interruptions. Eiri had guessed the purpose for bringing him to Kyoto when he first saw Miyamoto here. "I still disagree with what you did, but I'm not blind, yet. I can see what this boy means to you." He sighed and looked around the room again. "My two sons; disappointment after disappointment. You both crush my hopes for the future and blatantly flout traditions . . . Yet, both of you are happy."

"My lovely, dutiful daughter . . . " he continued, in a doting tone of voice, turning in her direction. Mika looked up. Their father's face was sad. "You have always done the right thing, and you are alone." He shook his head. "I'll leave you youngsters to your . . . breakfast." He picked up his plate and left the room.

"Wow," Tatsuha breathed, mirroring Eiri's thought. Shuichi leaned over and hugged Eiri's left arm. Eiri reached across his body with his right hand, to touch Shu's hand on his arm.

Tears trickled down Mika's cheeks. "Excuse me," she choked out. She left, wiping at her eyes. Her food was mostly uneaten.

"Where is Tohma?" Ryuichi asked. Eiri looked at him in surprise, one eyebrow arching up. Usually Ryuichi knew where Seguchi was, even when no one else did, or when Tohma didn't want him to know.

Shu let go of Eiri's arm to give Ryu a look of surprise, too, jaw dropping in disbelief. "You don't know??" Shu questioned him. Ryuichi shook his head. "Really??"

"Kumagorou?" Ryuichi asked his stuffed rabbit, bringing it up from the floor beside him. He twisted the pink rabbit's little head back and forth. "Kumagorou doesn't know either," the singer confirmed.

Eiri wondered if Mika knew where her husband was, or what Tohma was up to? It was unlike him to be gone for a whole week without telling anyone.

1 Tatami mats are the bamboo floor squares in a traditional Japanese building. They actually lift off the supports and stuff is stored between the floor and the ground. (Thus, the hollow thud sound when Shu knocked Eiri to the floor.) That's part of the reason the Japanese houses look so sparse, too—everything's kept under the floor. Modern homes have non-removable flooring and can make use of more furniture that is heavy or solid, and Western-styled.

Author's Note: Has anyone been wondering about Tohma?? What about those pesky unanswered questions, like what is the deal with the publishing company? What has Tohma been doing this past week? What other sorts of presents did Ryu bring? . . . and is that really the end of Miyamoto? Keep reading. ;