Je Suis Désolé

Chapter 2

Hiro watched silently, curling his toes in the warm sand of the beach, as Shuichi waded through the ocean water.  A soft breeze blew across the surface, rustling the pink hair away from the dull purple eyes that were still buried within his own head, staring at something that only existed in his own mind.  The water lapped at his bare knees, splashing up his legs and nearly soaking his shorts, though Hiro doubted whether his friend would have cared if his entire body became drenched.  He was too busy staring, with his head tilted slightly to the side as if it was too much effort to hold it up straight, at the horizon line that the dark blue ocean created when it touched the light blue sky.

America was in that direction, and Hiro realized that his friend knew it.  He could tell that Shuichi wished with all of his body that if he stared long enough, he could draw America closer and closer until he could just walk to where Yuki was.  Wherever that was.

Hiro rose to his feet and trudged towards Shuichi's place in the waves, squinting from the rays of the sun in the same direction of his friend and pretending to be trying to figure out what was so interesting.  Shuichi made no response, and Hiro began to wonder if his friend even realized that he was standing right next to him.

Shuichi had finally stopped repressing his feelings and hiding his depression, at least, though he had been doing such a good job prior, Hiro hadn't realized how bad it had gotten.  And Hiro knew, with a notion of sorrow, that he was one of the major causes of his friend's ailment, and yet he didn't know what to do to help, only making it worse every time he tried anything.  Every moment the fire in Shuichi's eyes got dimmer and dimmer, swallowed by the pain, and now, as Hiro looked, he could barely see any life left at all.  Shuichi was about to give up, he realized with desperation, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do.

There was something about the way Shuichi was standing as still and lifeless as a statue, not even blinking and hardly breathing, that sent a chill down Hiro's spine.  He couldn't stand it; he had to make it end, so he did the first thing that came to mind:  Wrapping an arm around Shuichi's shoulders, he pulled him closer to him, breaking Shuichi's stance and nearly causing him to fall over, which he most likely would have, had Hiro not been holding him.  In his peripheral vision, Hiro saw a purple gaze settle upon him quizzically, but he did not dare look at his friend; he hated to see the expression his friend had recently taken to wearing.

"Shu-i-chi," Hiro sang, forcing a smile on his lips as he watched Shuichi out of the corner of his eye, though he made his gaze stay on the horizon.  "Cheer up.  Seguchi gave you time off, so you should enjoy it.  You don't get this kind of chance that often."

"Hiro…" Shuichi said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, and upon hearing such a strained voice, Hiro remembered that Shuichi hadn't even spoken to him since he had fainted the day before; the whole trip here, he had merely clung to Hiro's back on the motorcycle like always, though his grip had been a little less snug, and Hiro knew it was because Shuichi wasn't so afraid of falling off and rolling down the street as he had been before Yuki had left.

"Listen, Shuichi, about what happened the night before last," Hiro whispered, leaning closer so that his friend could hear, "I'm sorry about that.  I wasn't thinking.  It was a mistake."

There was a pause in which Hiro couldn't decide whether or not Shuichi had heard him, or if he had even been listening at all.  Judging by Shuichi's recent eyes, he seemed to be in a constantly dazed state and hardly ever joined the real world.  Hiro allowed the silence to turn into an awkward one, awkward for him at least, as he wondered what to do; he wasn't quite up to repeating himself.  However, his worries were cut short when Shuichi sighed weakly and shook his head.

"I understand why you don't want me," he said, not even bothering to force a smile.

Hiro scowled and finally turned look at him, only to find that he had already turned back and was blankly staring at the horizon again.  Hiro snatched his chin and turned his head so that they were staring into each other's eyes.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Hiro hissed.

"Then why are you apologizing?" came Shuichi's lazy reply.  He closed his eyes halfway and leaned closer, removing several comfortable inches of space between their faces.

"Shuichi…"

"If you don't want me, then push me away," Shuichi breathed, wrapping his arms around Hiro's neck and leaning even closer so that their lips softly touched.  Hiro inhaled sharply and gently set his hands on Shuichi's slender waist, his heart rate rapidly increasing to extraordinary levels, accented by his mind, which was currently screaming at him to stop, that he would regret this, that this was a mistake.  But he couldn't stop; he knew he couldn't.  Not when Shuichi was asking him to keep going, even if Shuichi didn't realize or didn't care what horror this could potentially bring to both their lives.  Shuichi had already given up hope.  This Hiro knew and was trying to fix by lifting Shuichi up with him, but rather it was working the opposite way; Shuichi was dragging him down.  Hiro would do anything for his best friend, and that was what was causing his downfall.

Everything was crashing down.  He could hear the world crumble around them as soon as he caught Shuichi's lips with his own and slid his hands along the slender waist, searching for a button to undo.  Everything was going wrong and it was his fault.  This he knew, and yet he still could not stop.

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It was frighteningly cold out; even though he had another's body heat wrapped around him, the ocean waves that crashed upon the shore just outside the cabin sent chills down his spine, and he couldn't help but shiver and curl deeper into the arms that held him.  He softly reached up to where the other's head rested against the pillow, sleeping in a one-sided dreamlike warmth, and gently ran his fingers through the silky hair that cascaded over the sheets.  Hair that was much too dark and certainly too long to belong to the one whose arms he should have been wrapped up in.

Upon the realization of that, Shuichi's world went dark, deepening the shades of gray that surrounded him in the nighttime cabin.  The one sleeping beside him did not smell of cigarettes and beer, but rather of a more pleasant, flowery scent, like the way springtime smells when it first strides in full of new life and nostalgia at the same time.  It was not a smell that should belong to any person, and certainly not the person that was sleeping beside him.  It pained Shuichi to know that someone could smell so fresh and clean, not like the dry, dead smell that seemed to cling to Yuki no matter how clean he was.  Shuichi like this new scent much better, and upon that thought he immediately tensed, trying to forget about that, to stop smelling anything, to stop breathing.

Yuki was slipping further and further away, and Shuichi could sense that he himself was about to let go of his previous lover.  Everyone had told him that he needed to let go, because they all knew what he had only subconsciously acknowledged, that Yuki wasn't coming back for him, and he needed to move on, but Shuichi was terrified of what would happen if he did forget about Yuki.  He had depended on Yuki for so long, he couldn't imagine how he could function without him, and balancing on even just the feeble remaining scraps of the love they had once shared was a more comforting thought to Shuichi than trying to balance on nothing at all.

He still needed Yuki, and he wouldn't allow himself to be convinced otherwise.

He would keep trudging on, supporting himself on only the rapidly disappearing memory of Yuki's love, because he knew he had to.  He would keep singing, keep performing and recording until he dropped dead because there was nothing else he could do.  And he would keep smiling, forever, because if he stopped smiling, everything else would stop, and he wouldn't be able to go on anymore.

Before he had hoped that someone would come and save him from shattering, and secretly inside his heart, his wished that that someone would be Yuki.  He had fantasized Yuki appearing out of the darkness, smiling genuinely and opening his arms, and with that everything would be back to normal and much better again, and he could just forget about the previous year of torment.  Now, however, he knew he had just ruined every last chance of that wish ever coming true; he had betrayed Yuki's love twice already with his best friend whom he didn't love.  Hiro had told him, had whispered to him that it was a mistake, but Shuichi hadn't needed to hear those words to know it, and yet he had needed it so desperately then.  It had been a last effort, he knew, to keep himself from breaking, but it had only provided temporary relief.  It was the same as alcohol; the next morning, all the problems came back with several additional ones gained over the night.  Hiro was his alcohol that he knew only relieved him of his pain briefly, but all the same he couldn't stop.

The crack was only getting larger and larger, bringing him closer and closer to shattering everyday.  And there was Yuki, as always, standing before him, breaking him more and more.  It was the last image of Yuki that he still clutched onto; it was the only thing that kept him moving forward, and at the same time, it was the very thing that was causing him to crack.

They would return to Tokyo in the morning and report back to Seguchi, and Shuichi would smile and pretend the time off did him good.  And then he would sing and record and perform once more, and everything would go back on schedule.

But no matter what, Yuki remained there, glaring at him without ever faltering.

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Notes:  Sorry, this is a really short chapter here that took a really long time to write.  And I don't even really like how it turned out.  But, the reason it took so long is because I got a new computer, so the entire weekend was spent copying and uploading and downloading practically everything imaginable, and then I had to spend a few hours trying to figure out where XP saved everything and what the new addresses to my hidden folders where so that I could open my music.  It was quite hectic but at the same time really fun because I am a super duper nerd who loves computers and anime.  And hey, check it out, I'm slowly trying to teach myself to type in Japanese (keep in mind, that's *trying.*  I'm also *trying* to learn Japanese, and apparently French too, all because of this story.  Fancy that.  Oh well, I hope your computer has the ability to read the Japanese text, and that FF.Net had the ability to post it.):

すごいですね。でも、私の文法はあまりよくないですから、多分 皆の日本人は読んで、 笑っています。じゃ、それは生活ですね。

Oh, yeah, and just kidding about the whole "this chapter is going to be about Yuki" thing I was talking about in the last notes.  -.-  My guess is he'll probably show up in the next chapter, which, hopefully, I'll have posted by next weekend.  So, yeah, I think that's all.

Until next time,

Cassi.