Je Suis Désolé
Chapter 1
Hiro strummed his guitar and winced at the sound. He noticed that ever since Bad Luck had become famous, his ears seemed to have gotten more sensitive, and now to him, a note that was just the slightest bit out of tune sounded like a wrong note altogether. Not that he minded, of course; he took it as a sign that he was becoming a better musician. He needed to be good, to compensate for the fact that a certain lead singer refused to pay attention to the music while singing and often went off on his own tangents.
Though lately that wasn't the case, Hiro remembered sadly as he set the guitar on the floor, deciding that it would be too much effort to tune it. Shuichi nowadays lacked any energy whatsoever, compared to how he was a year ago, before the disappearance of Yuki. Sure, Shuichi would still get excited before concerts, and intentionally annoy everybody around him, though after being the said singer's friend for such a long time, Hiro could see that Shuichi's actions were all just a façade. Shuichi was a good actor; that was for sure, considering that he had everybody but Hiro himself fooled, but Hiro noticed that when Shuichi thought no one was looking, he would close his eyes and let his head fall in exhaustion. Because Shuichi worked so hard at hiding it, Hiro didn't dare bring it up, but all the same, he was tremendously worried about his best friend.
A light clicking sound warned of an intruder, and Hiro quieted immediately and sank against the wall, watching the door. Of course, he wasn't afraid, but rather more annoyed; he had come to the studio this late specifically to have a time to practice alone, and the fact that someone was disturbing it frustrated him.
The door opened slowly and in stepped the very person Hiro had just been thinking about, carrying a look that Hiro was beginning to find all too familiar. His eyes were halfway closed and held a distant look in them, as if he were looking at something inside is own head. The rest of his face just simply looked tired, and his movements matched it; his shoulders sagged and he was barely lifting his feet off the ground. Hiro sighed at his friend's appearance and then proceeded to pluck a string on his guitar in order to make his friend aware of his presence. Shuichi glanced over at him, a startled look consuming his features that lasted much longer than it should have; even after recognizing Hiro, the look remained, giving Hiro the feeling that Shuichi was afraid of him.
"Shuichi," Hiro said in a voice barely above a whisper that he was certain conveyed his concern entirely. Immediately Shuichi's horror broke, replaced by a broad smile that was incredibly convincing, though Hiro could still tell that it was fake.
"Hiro, what are you doing here?" Shuichi said, his voice containing his usual cheerful tone.
"I could ask you the same question," Hiro spat, sounding a little more bitter than intended, though it didn't seem to phase Shuichi at all.
Shuichi giggled sheepishly. "I think I left my house key here. I got all the way home before I realized I didn't have it, so then I had to come all the way back."
Hiro smiled humorlessly and rose to his feet. "Sounds like something you'd do. Now, where'd you leave it?"
Shuichi shrugged in response. "I dunno. I was hoping it would be in here…somewhere…"
Hiro laughed and approached his friend, wrapping a lazy arm around his shoulders, though he almost sighed when he felt the way Shuichi leaned into him, as if he desperately needed to be touched. Hiro in turn tightened his arm in order to comfort Shuichi, though he wasn't sure if the singer noticed or not.
"Today's…the fifth…of March," Shuichi whispered almost inaudibly so that Hiro had to strain to hear, despite his sensitive ears.
"Yeah it is," Hiro replied, trying to sound interested. "Anything special about it?"
Shuichi took a long time to respond, though he did so by laughing sadly and slowly shaking his head from side to side. "No…"
"You sure?" Hiro persisted, easily seeing through his friend's lie.
Shuichi broke free of Hiro's grasp and walked a few steps forward. Hiro watched his back concernedly, sighing once more at his friend's behavior. There was a long awkward silence in which Hiro desperately tried to think of something to say or do in order to help Shuichi, but his mind only came up with a blank. At last, Shuichi himself broke it.
"It's been a year now, today," Shuichi spoke slowly, making it obvious that the words were hurting him. "A year, since he left…"
"Oh, Shuichi…" Hiro whispered as realization hit. He quickly stepped forward and threw his arms around Shuichi, hugging him from behind. Shuichi once again leaned into him, and Hiro could feel his body shaking as he tried to hold in the sobs.
He hurts you when you're with him, and he hurts you when you're away from him. Yuki Eiri, the ultimate bastard, Hiro thought contemptuously, tightening his arms around the pink-haired singer. How could Shuichi fall in love with someone like him?
Hiro thought back to the time when Yuki had first left. Of course, Hiro had noticed something was bothering his long time friend immediately, though it took a week before Shuichi finally admitted that Yuki had abandoned him. After reading the note that Yuki had left for Shuichi, Hiro assured him that he would get over Yuki, that it would just take a little time. He had waited awhile, and then began implementing a plan to help Shuichi by introducing him to new people. He had tried both guys and girls, but Shuichi had ignored them equally. Eventually, he even tried coming on to Shuichi himself, though that only lost him his girlfriend and caused Shuichi even more grief for not being able to return his 'feelings.' Hiro had dropped that idea immediately and proceeded to explain to Shuichi that he really didn't feel that way about him and that he was just trying to help him. That was when Shuichi had first started acting as though nothing was bothering him, pretending that he was back to his usual cheerful self, making Hiro feel even worse. And, despite it all, Shuichi only continued to fall deeper and deeper into depression.
Hiro wondered if Yuki even understood how much Shuichi loved him, how much he would always love him, and how much pain he would cause by leaving him.
"I'm fine," Shuichi's voice brought an abrupt halt to Hiro's thoughts. Shuichi pulled free of his grip and turned around with a smile across his face, wiping away one last tear. Hiro smiled back at him sympathetically.
"Shuichi, you don't have hide it all the time," Hiro said softly, secretly worried that he might offend his friend.
Shuichi shook his head in response. "No, Hiro, you're wrong. I do. All the time."
Hiro allowed his smile to fade completely as he looked into his friend's eyes, which at the moment seemed strangely empty, like bottomless pits that went on forever and yet had nothing inside of them to fill the void. Shuichi blinked uncomfortably, causing Hiro to break his gaze. Looking at him one last time, Shuichi smiled and turned around to leave, though he let out a strangled yelp when Hiro snatched his wrist and yanked him so hard that it sent him toppling onto the floor. Quickly moving beside him, Hiro pinned his shoulders to the ground in an attempt to keep Shuichi from escaping.
"Shuichi, you little shit!" Hiro screamed, letting his frustration and concern for his friend come out in an angry mass of words. "I can't believe you! Why can't you forget about him? He's the one that ditched you, leaving nothing for you except a stupid little note! The coward couldn't even get up enough courage to say goodbye! So why? Why do you continue to dote over him even though he's long gone?"
Shuichi's eyes were wide with fear as he stared at his friend. He opened his mouth to answer, though no words came out; rather, a strangled squeak forced its way through his closed throat, and that was the only sound he could utter at all. Hiro's angry eyes faltered when he realized his friend's state, and his rage vanished quickly. Releasing his grip on Shuichi's shoulders, he bowed his head in apology, though he did not lift it up once more to look at Shuichi.
"Shuichi, I didn't mean… It's not… I mean, I'm sorry," Hiro stuttered, failing to find the right words. "I'm just worried, that's all."
There was a long, awkward pause before Shuichi let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Hiro. I didn't mean to make you mad."
"I'm not mad, Shuichi," Hiro reassured, finally lifting his head and gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "Like I said, I'm just worried. That's all." He paused a moment before continuing. "I really think you should find someone else. I'm not saying you have to fall in love or anything… It's just that it might help you forget Yuki."
Shuichi once again donned a blank expression, one Hiro realized he wore when thinking about Yuki, though after a moment a smile graced his features again.
"I don't really have anyone in mind," Shuichi said with a blush.
"Well, what do you want, guys or girls? You seem to be open to both," Hiro replied with a light chuckle, thankful that the previous heavy atmosphere was finally starting to clear.
Shuichi merely shrugged.
Hiro laughed fully and patted Shuichi's shoulder playfully. "Truly bi, eh? Hey, Shu, why don't you spend tonight at my place? You can find your house key tomorrow. Meanwhile, it'll be just you and me, the inseparable duo, just like old times before we moved out of our parents' houses. Whaddya say?"
There was a long pause before Shuichi responded in which Hiro realized that the thick, awkward atmosphere was returning. He could see Shuichi thinking about something, and wondered what would be so hard to decide considering the proposition. Shuichi had realized that he only meant it as friends, didn't he? It wasn't the same as before, that was all over now…
"Hiro…" Shuichi whined and lifted his head level with Hiro's, and for a moment Hiro could smell the familiar strawberry fragrance cascading off Shuichi, reminding him of a long time ago, before Yuki, before NG, before music even, when he had first met Shuichi and smelled that smell that seemed to naturally cling to him, and saw that pink hair, a little shorter than it was currently, with headphones cutting a trail through the ever glistening strands, and felt that skin that stayed so soft and fine even without the aid of lotion. The tunes of the old Nittle Grasper song, played out in muffled electronic tones that were so quiet to Hiro himself, but must have been deafening to Shuichi, being pressed up against his ears like that, and the eyes, the wide, sparkling beautiful eyes. And the words, "You like Nittle Grasper too? They're my favorite band! I want to be in a band just like them," and with that a friendship that had lasted longer than either had ever hoped it could.
That was the time when Hiro first noticed it: the obscure beauty hidden within everything that was Shuichi, a beauty that everyone knew existed but at the same time still couldn't quite see it. It was the beauty that caused the fan girls to flock to their concerts as if brainwashed, the beauty that left reporters stunned and unable to record, the beauty that had made Yuki allow Shuichi to return again and again even though his presence was unwanted. Hiro had seen it first, before anyone else, so long ago, and at that time he had decided to claim it for his own, to make Shuichi his best friend to keep this beauty by his side.
But now that beauty was slipping away. In the exhaustion caused by Yuki's faithlessness, the beauty was fleeing, draining from Shuichi's face, starting with his eyes that previously had harbored the most beauty of all.
When Shuichi had first met the hardened novelist, his eyes had brightened ten times their usual gleam, and the beauty intensified even more. And now it was almost all gone. If only Hiro could do something to bring it back, anything… What had Yuki done in the first place that had swept Shuichi off his feet so forcefully?
"I'm not sure that's a good idea…" Shuichi was whispering.
His face was so close to Hiro's own, and his eyes, slowly giving in to the temptation to just let the fleeting beauty leave, were gazing at him with a dull question buried deep inside them that didn't really have a care to be answered. What had that novelist done to bring about such drastic changes in his best friend?
In a quick movement, Hiro rushed forward and forced his mouth onto Shuichi's, causing eyes to widen and nothing else. They hit the floor with a dull thump, and the world around Hiro disappeared as he began to rip at Shuichi's clothes, kissing him savagely a few times before noticing, with a painful revelation, what a mistake he had just made in his haste to help his friend. Shuichi had uttered not a sound nor made a single action in protest, and he was returning only as much as Hiro was giving, if that. With a glance into his friend's eyes, Hiro continued with his ministrations, ripping off Shuichi's clothes, touching him, and kissing him, knowing that it didn't matter anyway. It was already too late. The dullness had consumed everything about his friend, and the beauty had at last vanished entirely.
More than anyone else, Hiro hated Yuki Eiri. The rancor that had slowly grown since the author had appeared in Shuichi's life flared violently in Hiro, and as he gripped Shuichi tightly in his arms, he realized that Yuki was consuming his thoughts about as much as Shuichi's. His disappearance had hurt Hiro as much as it did Shuichi, and as Hiro claimed Shuichi as his own, he knew that there was no passion for each other, but rather for that single person that had changed both their lives more than they ever could his.
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His voice was shot, and he couldn't have sung to save his life. Fujisaki took the liberty to notice and didn't fail to comment, but Hiro just sat in the corner and looked too afraid to even sneeze, lest he be ripped apart by some demon if he should. Or by Shuichi himself.
For the first time in his life, Shuichi was beginning to understand how Yuki had felt when he had first come into his life, and he realized that maybe Yuki really wasn't as cold as he originally thought him to be.
He knew now what true exhaustion really was; it had nothing to do with the physical aspect of life, but rather it ripped at the soul with subtle claws, taking away the energy so slowly that one hardly noticed its presence until they were too deep into it to be able to pull out of it again. Shuichi hated it and desperately longed for the time when Yuki was still around, but that only made the fatigue stronger and deeper. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take it, but he couldn't do anything about it.
Yuki must have been like that for six years before Shuichi had tried to help him, and Shuichi wondered with a hint of desperation if anyone would come around to help him as well. But what choice did he have but to keep going, to keep working no matter how much it hurt him?
He had never been this tired in his entire life.
There had to be a limit somewhere. Surely a human had to have a breaking point. He couldn't carry everything. If things continued on as they were, one day he would break, shatter into a billion shards of glass, and someone would have to come and sweep him up and scoop him into a dustbin and throw him in the trash, just like that mirror in Yuki's bathroom, the one that Yuki glared at with the fiercest glare he could manage, and the mirror cringed and tried to look away, but Yuki just continued to glare at it until it cracked and littered the carpet with its deadly silver remains, covered in blood from where it bit Yuki's knuckles in one last fierce attack for life, even though it was already dead and there was no point in fighting anymore. It was a rare sight to see Yuki crying, but when Shuichi had heard the glass shriek when it broke, and ran in the bathroom to find Yuki clutching his bleeding hand, sitting in the middle of the floor and surrounded by a shrine of broken silver, weeping harder than Shuichi had ever seen anyone weep before, as if he were grieving the mirror's parting, that was when Shuichi, though he didn't know why or what it was, first knew that there was definitely something to be afraid of.
Now he knew though. Now he knew why Yuki glared at the mirror everyday, and why Yuki had cried when the mirror had at last broken. He understood now what back then he couldn't comprehend but still knew was there; he knew that eventually everything breaks, just like the mirror, and that it was just a matter of time before he himself shattered. One of the few things he didn't know was when this would occur; he felt like he was about to fall over any moment, and yet he was reminded that Yuki felt like he was about to fall over any moment for six years. And then it felt like he would just continue to trudge along, slowly and tiredly, down the path, waiting for life to end all the while knowing that it never would; that he would forget about music, about his friends, about his dreams, about Yuki, and continue on and on, just waiting. There was no clear end in sight, and yet Shuichi had no choice but to keep walking forever and ever.
Hiro was staring at him. He had been the whole time, and vaguely Shuichi thought back to what had happened the night before, when for that brief moment Hiro had actually succeeded in making Shuichi truly forget about Yuki, just for a second, and that was the very second that Yuki was really gone, not ever coming back, just like he said. That was when Yuki's words finally rang true, and when Shuichi would never see him again. Yuki had disappeared and now Shuichi was about to shatter, and he didn't know what would happen after he shattered but he knew he would, someday he would.
But despite that, he was still singing, with his voice so tired it cracked whenever he reached too high of a note, and K was holding a gun to his head but he hardly noticed it was there, because a gun is hardly a threat when compared to the thought of actually breaking down and shattering like glass in a mirror. And only a few minutes later his voice had completely stopped, and the gun dug deeper into his skin, but he only stood there until his body decided that standing was too much effort and instead collapsed to the floor and lost consciousness, but Shuichi barely noticed because he didn't even feel like he was inside that body anymore.
He was a mirror, and Yuki was glaring at him, as if he were trying to shatter him.
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It had only been about thirty seconds before Shuichi regained consciousness after collapsing, but his faintness was being treated as a life-threatening disease, and he was forced to lie down on the couch and drink an inhuman amount of water. Even Seguchi Tohma himself was called to inspect the damage dealt to the precious pop idol, and the man strode into the studio only a few moments later, looking cool and calm as he cleared the studio of all living beings, including a very worried Kumagorou that had shown up to investigate.
When everyone was gone, his calm demeanor still had yet to fade. He knelt down beside Shuichi and smiled his usual smile, one that was warm yet portrayed no emotion.
"Are you feeling well, Shindou-san?" Tohma asked politely, though he was only met with extremely fatigued eyes that had long since dulled from overwhelming exhaustion. For once, Seguchi Tohma allowed his smile to falter, but only for the briefest of moments.
Tohma lifted a graceful hand out from behind the dark folds of his coat, and the fingers seemed to wave and dance with a personality of their own for a second before becoming still and awkward, and Shuichi gazed at them with a sort of vaguely distant interest. A hand that was so defined and delicate as this one certainly couldn't belong to even a woman, much less a man; it was too smooth and unblemished and perfect, seeming to match more closely to the hand of a priceless porcelain doll that was made with the most meticulous care and painstaking effort, crafted by a master that habitually carved every single minute detail of the human body. Shuichi actually fell out of his stupor and started when that hand slid forward to rest on his forehead, sucking the dazed heat out of his head with its icy coolness. It was the first time Tohma had ever touched him before, crossing an imaginary social barrier that Shuichi had just assumed was always there.
As quickly and unexpectedly as Tohma had touched Shuichi in the first place, he pulled his hand away and hid it in the depths of his black coat once again, smiling a large, warm, emotionless smile once more.
"You've been overworking yourself lately. I'm suspending you for now, until you recover," Tohma said, his words slowly spoken, articulated to an unusual degree in the high, flawless voice that could turn an ocean to ice. "You should relax and enjoy yourself for now, Shindou-san." And with that, in one fluid motion, he was on his feet and gliding towards the door, almost seeming as though he didn't even set his feet on the ground as he moved.
Shuichi started again when Tohma's hand reappeared and grasped the door, realizing that there was something that could save him from shattering, there was only one thing, and now he was alone in a room with the only person who could possibly get this something for him currently leaving. He opened his mouth in a moment of hesitation, trying to decide if he really wanted to be saved, if it was really worth it, but a wave of desperation washed over him, and he swung his feet to the floor, gripping the cushions of the couch as he willed his voice to work, just this once, even if he lost it forever more.
"Seguchi-san!" he cried, his voice cracking painfully with a sparse and rough texture abounding within it. Tohma turned around and stared at him, his icy eyes still untainted with any emotion whatsoever. Shuichi paused, feeling the anxiety seethe inside of him so thickly he felt that it could find a weak spot and shatter him once and for all. "Y-you must speak to him now and then… You're his brother-in-law, you have to!"
Tohma knew what he was asking even though he hadn't even spoken a question; Shuichi could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what the question was. There was a miniscule pause that lasted for an eternity before Tohma made any sort of response.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, but his eyes remained unchanged and only seemed to mock Shuichi. And with that he turned around once more and exited quickly but not hurriedly, leaving Shuichi sitting on the couch, his shoulders drooping as the exhaustion returned to him twice fold.
It was one or the other; Yuki and Shuichi were together or they weren't, and one way was Shuichi's preference while the other was Yuki's. And either way one of them was in pain. Of course Tohma would side with Yuki; no matter how valuable Shuichi was to Tohma, Yuki would always be priceless.
Shuichi could see it clearly now. Yuki was before him, glaring more fiercely than before, and Shuichi could feel himself beginning to crack.
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Notes: I have really no idea where I'm going with this story. Anyway, I know that most of this chapter is a little incoherent, but I did that intentionally to show how tired and confused Shuichi's head is. I'm probably going to go to Yuki next chapter and do the usual Yuki stuff, like 'I really miss Shuichi but there's no way in Hell I'm going to admit that.' I dunno, maybe not.
Thank you to my reviewers, both those have reviewed and those who will… hint…
By the way, 'Je Suis Désolé' means 'I'm sorry' in French. Not that I speak French, more like I have this random French learning program installed on my computer and I accidentally clicked on the icon and got stuck in it because nothing was labeled and I couldn't figure out how to exit so I was randomly clicking buttons and I got to this English-French dictionary and I looked up "sorry," and got that and I thought it was a cool phrase so I used it and this is a super long run-on sentence so I'll end it now.
Suggestions are welcome.
Goodbye.
Until next time,
Cassi
