Chapter 3
An abandoned building... what was once probably a nice apartment was now all peeling wallpaper, puddles on the floor from a leaking roof, and moldering carpet. Why was he here? That's right, Sensei asked him here... but why? Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew, but that didn't bear thinking about. Every time he started to brush the edge of the information, his mind would flinch away in fear. He knew why Sensei brought him here, but he didn't want to know.
"Eiri," Kitazawa Sensei said, drawing his attention away from the broken window. "My beautiful Eiri," he said caressing Yuki's face--no, not Yuki's face, Eiri's.
Eiri flinched away, shocked at his Sensei's forward behavior. The knowledge he'd previously denied was beginning to make itself known, like snakes uncoiling in a shadowed corner and readying to strike--still out of sight, but just enough movement to let one know there's a dangerous creature lurking in the dark. Something was very, very wrong.
"Isn't this what you want Eiri-kun? For me to touch you? Taste you? Give you pleasure?" Sensei asked, going to his knees before Eiri and reaching for the fly of Eiri's pants.
"Sensei... don't... I..." Eiri said nervously. And, then he knew, knew what was coming--and yet could do nothing. The part of him that was still Yuki was screaming, "Run! Get away, before it happens again!" but Eiri could do nothing but play his role. The play had been written long ago. It was too late to change the lines. "I did... I do, but not like this," Eiri tentatively protested, looking around at the dank and dreary apartment.
Heavy footsteps sounded from out in the hall. Sensei stood from his kneeling position, shrugged, and said, "Too bad. I wanted to be your first. Third will just have to suffice."
Two men--big ugly men--came in. One handed Sensei a ten dollar bill. Sensei motioned toward Eiri, and the deal was done. The men went to claim their purchase. Eiri tried to run. They caught him. He screamed and begged. They laughed and said there was no one to hear him.
Eiri was trapped, pinned against a wall. Strange hands groping and pinching and tearing at his clothes. Tears ran down his face. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. He had to escape. He couldn't get away from them. They were too big, too strong. "Don't think, don't look, don't notice what they're doing to you," Eiri told himself. "If I don't pay attention it doesn't count."
The sun reflecting on the broken window, the curl of the peeling wallpaper pressing into his back. And, there was a gun. One of the men had a gun. Suddenly, it was in Eiri's hands. The men backed away, but it did them no good. Still half immersed in his self imposed trance, Eiri shot the two men down, calmly, as if he were at the firing range with Tohma. He shot them both directly through the heart, like they were paper targets instead of people.
Eiri turned the gun on his Sensei, the one who betrayed him. "Eiri-kun, you don't want to do this," Kitazawa Sensei said backing away from the shaking boy with a gun.
"You... you sold me," Eiri accused.
"There were reasons, let me explain," Kitazawa pleaded. "You know I would never hurt you."
"No!" Eiri shouted. "I don't know that. I don't know anything anymore." He whispered brokenly.
Sensei took a step forward, hand held out for he gun. "Give me the gun Eiri. Give me the gun and everything will be alright."
Inside, knowing what was to come, Yuki was screaming at his younger self, "Leave! Just go! Don't do this!" But, on the outside, Eiri could do nothing. There was still the final act of the play to get through. "Don't! Don't pretend like nothing's wrong!" Eiri yelled angrily.
Sensei took another step forward. Eiri closed his eyes, confused and afraid, and somehow the gun went off. Eiri, opened his eyes to see a look of shock and disbelief cross his Sensei's face just before Kitazawa's lifeless body fell to the ground, his blood spreading across the floor. Eiri landed hard on his knees, clenching his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the scene before him.
The final act was over. The curtains close.
Yuki opened his eyes to blue skies and the enormous violet eyes of his lover looking down at him. They were lying in the grass by the remains of a picnic. "You were crying and moaning in your sleep," Shuichi said as he wiped Yuki's tears away with one hand.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Yuki asked.
"You always say that it's better to let a nightmare run its course than to wake up in the middle and have it eat at you the rest of the day," Shuichi said in a sing-song manner, as if reciting something from memory.
"That's never stopped you before. You never listen to me," Yuki pointed out.
Shuichi shrugged. "Things were different before."
"Different how?" Yuki asked suspiciously.
"I've been thinking," Shuichi said sitting up beside Yuki. "I think I should start listening to you more."
"Listening to me?" Yuki repeated incredulously.
"Yeah, I realized that you're right about a lot of things. Like when you said I should leave you, I think you were right."
"What?!" Yuki exclaimed, sitting up himself. "I don't know what goes through what little mind you have, but if this is some elaborate scheme to get me to admit my undying love you can just forget it now brat. You know I don't do that romantic crap."
"No scheme, I'm leaving," Shuichi said, strangely calm. "You're never going to be the man I want you to be and I'm tired of waiting." As Shuichi was saying this, a thick fog was forming out of the clear blue day, blocking out the sun and turning everything gray. "Don't try to stop me, it's already too late. I don't want you anymore," Shuichi said coldly. Then he got up and walked into the thick fog surrounding their picnic site.
"Wait!" Yuki shouted at the singer's retreating back. As Shuichi disappeared in the fog, Yuki jumped up to follow, saying, "You can't just walk away from me!"
Yuki walked further into the fog, unable to see two feet in front of his face. The ground suddenly changed from green grass to concrete and mildewed carpet. The mist cleared to reveal that same ugly apartment.
This time, instead of participating, Yuki was merely an observer. He watched his former Sensei come on to a younger version of himself. He saw the two men come in and make their deal with Kitazawa. As stomach churning as it was to see he couldn't look away as they cornered Eiri like a scared rabbit.
Abruptly Kitazawa broke away from the tableau and walked over to speak with Yuki. "Exciting isn't it?" he asked conversationally.
"Not particularly," Yuki calmly answered, all of his masks firmly in place. "I already know how it ends."
"Do you? Are you sure you know?" Kitazawa asked mockingly, looking back to young Eiri with the men.
Yuki looked back to the scene in front of him. Instead of it all happening in the same familiar pattern, this time Eiri didn't grab the gun. This time his pants were ripped off as they wrestled him to the floor.
Yuki turned from the scene and facing Kitazawa hissed, "Stop it. That's not what happened."
"But it could have," Kitazawa replied. "You wanted it this way."
"No, I never wanted that," Yuki said fervently. "Never," he reiterated, pointedly not looking and trying his best to ignore the sounds of his younger self's torment.
Kitazawa sighed in disappointment. "I guess this means that all those times you said you'd do anything to bring me back you were lying. I'm disappointed, though not surprised. I miss Eiri. He was a whiney little bastard, but at least he was honest." Looking around Yuki at the broken sixteen-year-old Yuki could hear crying behind him, Kitazawa added, "Looks like it's my turn, unless you want to go first, Yuki? Yuki, are you paying attention to me? Do you want your turn or not?"
The old apartment faded out and was replaced by another apartment, this one sleek and modern. Yuki was sitting on the couch with Shuichi and Shuichi was holding out a play station controller saying, "It's your turn Yuki."
"Uhmm..." Yuki paused for a second to get his bearings, figuring that he must have fallen asleep on the couch while Shuichi played. "I don't really feel like playing."
"But Yukiii! You said that if I beat you at the game you'd take me out. How can I beat you if you don't play?" Shuichi protested.
"I said that?" Yuki asked, thinking that it didn't sound like something he'd say.
"You did," Shuichi replied. "How can you not remember? That was only like two minutes ago."
Yuki sat there looking at Shuichi for a second, ran a hand through his hair and finally said, "Go get your coat."
Shuichi ran to get his coat and the two of them left the apartment. Shuichi was happily chattering at his side while Yuki tried to puzzle out what was going on. He couldn't quite place what, but something just wasn't right.
"Yuki, are you paying attention?" Shuichi asked, waving a hand in front of Yuki's face.
"Huh?" Yuki said distractedly.
"Our anniversary. It's coming up. What are we going to do to celebrate? Five years is a pretty big deal," Shuichi explained.
"Five years..." Yuki said, completely confused. It had only been months, hadn't it?
Before Shuichi could answer, a car--just like the one Yuki had wrecked not too long ago--came careening around the corner. Shuichi, for no apparent reason, jumped in front of the car, hands held out in front of him, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Stop!"
Yuki was no longer on the street watching it happen. He was behind the wheel of the car, slamming on brakes as fast as he could, but not fast enough to keep from hitting his lover. He watched in horror as the small man, the one whom he was just talking to, flew over his hood and into his windshield.
Paramedics arrived, grabbed Shuichi's body and tossed it into the back of their van, like he was a sack of potatoes rather than a person, and sped away in an instant. Cops arrived to take Yuki in for questioning. Yuki numbly got out of the car--which was left, still running, on the street--and followed the officers into an adjacent building. He stepped through the doorway and into an abandoned New York apartment.
"Welcome back Yuki," Kitazawa said cheerfully. Then after an affected pause, as if he were seriously contemplating something, he added, "Although that's not technically true. I mean, you never really leave here, do you?"
"I already did this once tonight, why am I here again?" Yuki asked irritably, having just realized that he was still dreaming.
"How am I supposed to know? It's your dream," Kitazawa replied. "Anyway, since you're here are you going to take your turn?" he asked conversationally.
"I think I'll pass," Yuki said, gritting his teeth at the crying and pain filled moans coming from behind him.
"At least see what you're missing before you turn it down," Kitazawa insisted as he grabbed Yuki's shoulder and forcibly turned him around.
Yuki's eyes widened in shock. It wasn't his younger self lying there. It was Shuichi, his sweet, innocent, Shuichi. Yuki knew it was a dream, but that didn't matter. The gun was in his hand. The two men were dead on the ground and Yuki was cradling Shuichi's bruised and broken body in his lap. "Yuki?" Shuichi rasped out, reaching up to touch Yuki's face.
"Coming love," Kitazawa answered Shuichi brightly, as he started to undo his belt.
"Stay away from him," Yuki ordered.
"But, he called me," Kitazawa protested.
"You're not touching him," Yuki said threateningly.
"How are you going to stop me?" Kitazawa asked tauntingly.
"Same way I did last time," Yuki answered. Then, without a moment's hesitation he raised the gun and fired twice. A body thudded to the ground.
A laugh sounded next to Yuki. Kitazawa was kneeling next to Yuki, laughing his head off. "I shot you," Yuki said.
"Always so foolish," Kitazawa answered, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes and pointedly looked down at Shuichi. "You couldn't have shot me, I'm long dead and gone. It must have been someone else." Yuki followed Kitazawa's gaze to the two bullet holes in Shuichi's chest. "What is that old saying? Something about always hurting the one you love? And, Eiri-kun was always an overachiever..." Kitazawa observed with a smirk then faded from sight.
"No," Yuki said. "He's not dead. It's just a dream... isn't real... it's a dream... it isn't real..." he chanted to himself over and over like a prayer, yet despite that knowledge he couldn't stop himself from gathering the still form of his lover close to his heart nor keep the tears from coming.
Then warm hands, the scent of kiwi shampoo, and really bad cotton mouth. And the ice was gone, like it'd never been, although the feel of it still lingered somewhere in the recesses of his memory.
Amber eyes opened in the steely gray light just before dawn. He was Yuki Eiri, successful author. He was lying twisted in silk sheets in his very own bed in his very own ultra-modern apartment. The hands frantically petting his back and the high pitched voice repeating his name belonged to his lover, Shindo Shuichi a hyperactive pop star who also happened to be irresistibly adorable... some of the time.
Pushing his worried lover off his back, Yuki turned over and sat up in bed. After kicking free of the tangled sheets, he swung his silk pajama clad legs from beneath the covers and off the side of the bed. Momentarily distracted by his lover's sudden movement, Shuichi fell silent.
Yuki snagged a half empty bottle of spring water off the nightstand and sat up on his side of the bed, taking in deep breaths of the crisp morning air, sipping lukewarm water, and curling his toes in the soft area rug Shuichi had insisted on when the weather had turned cold--an insistence which Yuki was grateful for even if he'd never admit it out loud. He couldn't remember what he'd dreamt only that it was bad... perhaps even the worst nightmare ever in a long career of truly horrible nightmares. Catching his own haunted expression in the dresser mirror, Yuki snorted in self-derision. To get so worked up over a dream, a dream he couldn't even remember, was juvenile--or so he told himself.
Taking in Yuki's dejected posture and pain filled expression--Shuichi was for once at a loss for words. He settled himself behind Yuki, wrapped thin arms around Yuki's shoulders, and cuddled into his lover's bare back offering what comfort he could.
Yuki tensed for a moment, hating for anyone to see his weaknesses this way. Then, giving in to the inevitable, he let himself relax into the smaller man's embrace.
They sat there, Shuichi silently holding Yuki and Yuki letting him in that pre-dawn moment--seemingly outside of time. Then something shifted, some tiny thing happened to break the stillness, the sun moved enough to cast another shadow, a bird started singing, a leaf fell, some itty-bitty inconsequential thing which made time flow again.
Shuichi opened his mouth to say something. Yuki, spotting Shuichi's movement in the mirror, beat him to it. "Don't," Yuki ordered.
"Don't what?" Shuichi demanded indignantly. "I wasn't doing anything," he insisted as he shifted to wrap one leg around Yuki's waist and tightened his grip on his lover's shoulders.
"Don't ask if I want to tell you about it. I don't remember and even if I did I wouldn't want to talk about it," Yuki said acerbically. "Dream analysis is the province of new age morons and hack therapists."
Shuichi sniffed haughtily and declared, nose in the air, "I wasn't going to ask that. I was going to say the same thing you always say to me."
Yuki's only reply was an arched eyebrow.
"I was going to tell you to go back to sleep," Shuichi explained. Realizing that his lover, although obviously still a bit out of sorts, was starting to get back to his usual grumpy self--a way to distract Yuki from the dark thoughts currently plaguing him occurred to Shuichi. Giving Yuki his best lecherous look in the mirror, a look which actually looked more like a two-year-old begging for candy, Shuichi went on to say, "Since we're both already awake, we could do something else... if you want?"
Yuki glanced through the window at the just barely risen sun and said, "It's too early, I'd rather sleep."
"Yukiii..." Shuichi whined, pouting just a little bit.
Before Shuichi could work himself up to a full on Yuki-doesn't-want-me crying jag, Yuki half turned toward Shuichi, took the singer's chin in one hand, and kissed his protruding lip. "Later," Yuki said. "Now go to sleep."
Ecstatic to not receive the usual flat out rejection, Shuichi nodded happily and loosened his grip enough to let Yuki lie down on the bed again. He didn't completely let go of Yuki--Shuichi never let his lover out of his grasp unless forced to--but Yuki didn't really mind. As long as Shuichi wasn't clinging so tight he couldn't breath, Yuki didn't object to having the slight singer sprawled across his back--he actually found it kind of comforting.
Yuki shifted around a bit till he was once again situated comfortably on his stomach. Shuichi cuddled as close as humanly possible, kissed Yuki's shoulder, and pulled the discarded blankets over both of them.
Yuki lay there, staring at himself in the mirror, comfortable, relaxed, nightmare dispelled, and yet oddly still unable to fall asleep. Yuki listened to Shuichi breathing, already his breath had slowed to the rhythm of sleep but sleep still eluded Yuki. Suddenly, Yuki felt an overwhelming compulsion to do something he never thought he'd do.
He resisted. No way was ever going to do anything so foolish and stupid.
Then Shuichi murmured something incoherent in his sleep, and cuddled even closer to Yuki, pressing his cold nose to the back of Yuki's neck. Even in his sleep, all the singer wanted was to be close to 'his Yuki.'
Yuki sighed in resignation. Grasping the arm Shuichi'd thrown around his waist, Yuki gave him a little shake. "Don' wanna move," Shuichi complained sleepily.
"No one's asking you to move, brat," Yuki replied. "I just wanted to tell you something."
"Tell me something?" Shuichi asked curiously, fully awakened by Yuki's strange behavior.
"Yeah... There's something important you should know so listen carefully, no interruptions, I'm only going to say this once. Got it?"
"Uh huh," Shuichi agreed, nodding against Yuki's shoulder.
Yuki closed his eyes tightly, he didn't think he could do it if he saw Shuichi's expectant eyes. He grasped Shuichi's hand, opened his mouth, and nothing came out.
Shuichi laced his fingers between Yuki's, kissed the nearest patch of bare skin, and offered encouragingly, "You know you can tell me anything. I'll always love you, no matter what."
Yuki's eyes flew open, and catching Shuichi's gaze in the mirror he gave his young lover the glare of death. "What was it I just said about interruptions?" he asked threateningly.
"Sorry... I won't say another word," Shuichi promised.
Yuki took another deep breath, paused for a minute to gather his thoughts and ended up pausing for a minute too long. Shuichi was already squirming in impatience, the strain of keeping quiet apparent on his face. Yuki took one look at his lover and gave up. Yuki let go of Shuichi's hand, and pushed the singer halfway off his back. "Never-mind," Yuki said, "I'll tell you some other time."
"Yuki! You can't do that! You have to tell me," Shuichi insisted.
"Why?"
"Because... uhmm... because you just have to. You can't just tell someone you're going to tell him something important then not tell him!"
"I'll tell you when I figure out the right words," Yuki said, shrugging off Shuichi's incoherent objections.
"You don't need right words. Just blurt it out," Shuichi begged, the suspense killing him.
"Just blurt it out?" Yuki repeated incredulously, sitting up and unceremoniously dumping Shuichi on the other side of the bed in the process. "You don't even know what I was going to tell you and you want me to blurt it out? You're such a moron."
"Am not," Shuichi insisted, sitting up to face Yuki.
"Are too."
"Am not," Shuichi continued the argument, now nose to nose with Yuki.
Suddenly realizing the childishness of his position, Yuki fell back against the headboard and crossed his arms across his chest. "Fine," Yuki agreed. "You're not a moron. I am, for wanting to do the romantic thing for once and find the right words to say I love you. I should have known better than to say anything in the first place."
"Yuki loves me," Shuichi said wonderingly to himself. "I thought... but I didn't think you'd... You said you love me!" Shuichi exclaimed launching himself at Yuki. Sitting in Yuki's lap with his arms wrapped tightly around Yuki's neck, Shuichi babbled ecstatically, "I love you Yuki. I love you so much. And, I kind of thought you might love me too, or at least like me a lot, but I wasn't really sure so I worried that when you told me to go away you might really mean it but then you'd let me come back and I'd think that you probably really did love me and just didn't know how to show it, but now you said you love me and--"
Yuki cut Shuichi off with a kiss. "Quiet brat," Yuki whispered against Shuichi's lips.
"Mmm... Yuki say it again," Shuichi pleaded.
"No," Yuki refused Shuichi's plea as he nibbled Shuichi's ear and reconsidered Shuichi's earlier proposition.
"Please, Yuki, say it again," Shuichi asked, never one to give up easily.
"Eiri."
"Huh?" Shuichi said, confused and distracted by his lover's answer.
"My name is Eiri," Yuki clarified as he moved on to Shuichi's neck.
"Oh," Shuichi said not understanding. "Oh," Shuichi said a bit louder, realizing that it was a peace offering. Yuki wasn't ready to say the L-word as often as Shuichi needed to hear it but he could gift him with permission to use a name no one outside his immediate family, not even his beloved brother-in-law, was allowed to use, at least not without an honorific. "Oh," Shuichi said one last time, this time more of a moan than a comment as Yuki's mouth wandered from a newly created hickey downwards.
An abandoned building... what was once probably a nice apartment was now all peeling wallpaper, puddles on the floor from a leaking roof, and moldering carpet. Why was he here? That's right, Sensei asked him here... but why? Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew, but that didn't bear thinking about. Every time he started to brush the edge of the information, his mind would flinch away in fear. He knew why Sensei brought him here, but he didn't want to know.
"Eiri," Kitazawa Sensei said, drawing his attention away from the broken window. "My beautiful Eiri," he said caressing Yuki's face--no, not Yuki's face, Eiri's.
Eiri flinched away, shocked at his Sensei's forward behavior. The knowledge he'd previously denied was beginning to make itself known, like snakes uncoiling in a shadowed corner and readying to strike--still out of sight, but just enough movement to let one know there's a dangerous creature lurking in the dark. Something was very, very wrong.
"Isn't this what you want Eiri-kun? For me to touch you? Taste you? Give you pleasure?" Sensei asked, going to his knees before Eiri and reaching for the fly of Eiri's pants.
"Sensei... don't... I..." Eiri said nervously. And, then he knew, knew what was coming--and yet could do nothing. The part of him that was still Yuki was screaming, "Run! Get away, before it happens again!" but Eiri could do nothing but play his role. The play had been written long ago. It was too late to change the lines. "I did... I do, but not like this," Eiri tentatively protested, looking around at the dank and dreary apartment.
Heavy footsteps sounded from out in the hall. Sensei stood from his kneeling position, shrugged, and said, "Too bad. I wanted to be your first. Third will just have to suffice."
Two men--big ugly men--came in. One handed Sensei a ten dollar bill. Sensei motioned toward Eiri, and the deal was done. The men went to claim their purchase. Eiri tried to run. They caught him. He screamed and begged. They laughed and said there was no one to hear him.
Eiri was trapped, pinned against a wall. Strange hands groping and pinching and tearing at his clothes. Tears ran down his face. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. He had to escape. He couldn't get away from them. They were too big, too strong. "Don't think, don't look, don't notice what they're doing to you," Eiri told himself. "If I don't pay attention it doesn't count."
The sun reflecting on the broken window, the curl of the peeling wallpaper pressing into his back. And, there was a gun. One of the men had a gun. Suddenly, it was in Eiri's hands. The men backed away, but it did them no good. Still half immersed in his self imposed trance, Eiri shot the two men down, calmly, as if he were at the firing range with Tohma. He shot them both directly through the heart, like they were paper targets instead of people.
Eiri turned the gun on his Sensei, the one who betrayed him. "Eiri-kun, you don't want to do this," Kitazawa Sensei said backing away from the shaking boy with a gun.
"You... you sold me," Eiri accused.
"There were reasons, let me explain," Kitazawa pleaded. "You know I would never hurt you."
"No!" Eiri shouted. "I don't know that. I don't know anything anymore." He whispered brokenly.
Sensei took a step forward, hand held out for he gun. "Give me the gun Eiri. Give me the gun and everything will be alright."
Inside, knowing what was to come, Yuki was screaming at his younger self, "Leave! Just go! Don't do this!" But, on the outside, Eiri could do nothing. There was still the final act of the play to get through. "Don't! Don't pretend like nothing's wrong!" Eiri yelled angrily.
Sensei took another step forward. Eiri closed his eyes, confused and afraid, and somehow the gun went off. Eiri, opened his eyes to see a look of shock and disbelief cross his Sensei's face just before Kitazawa's lifeless body fell to the ground, his blood spreading across the floor. Eiri landed hard on his knees, clenching his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the scene before him.
The final act was over. The curtains close.
Yuki opened his eyes to blue skies and the enormous violet eyes of his lover looking down at him. They were lying in the grass by the remains of a picnic. "You were crying and moaning in your sleep," Shuichi said as he wiped Yuki's tears away with one hand.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Yuki asked.
"You always say that it's better to let a nightmare run its course than to wake up in the middle and have it eat at you the rest of the day," Shuichi said in a sing-song manner, as if reciting something from memory.
"That's never stopped you before. You never listen to me," Yuki pointed out.
Shuichi shrugged. "Things were different before."
"Different how?" Yuki asked suspiciously.
"I've been thinking," Shuichi said sitting up beside Yuki. "I think I should start listening to you more."
"Listening to me?" Yuki repeated incredulously.
"Yeah, I realized that you're right about a lot of things. Like when you said I should leave you, I think you were right."
"What?!" Yuki exclaimed, sitting up himself. "I don't know what goes through what little mind you have, but if this is some elaborate scheme to get me to admit my undying love you can just forget it now brat. You know I don't do that romantic crap."
"No scheme, I'm leaving," Shuichi said, strangely calm. "You're never going to be the man I want you to be and I'm tired of waiting." As Shuichi was saying this, a thick fog was forming out of the clear blue day, blocking out the sun and turning everything gray. "Don't try to stop me, it's already too late. I don't want you anymore," Shuichi said coldly. Then he got up and walked into the thick fog surrounding their picnic site.
"Wait!" Yuki shouted at the singer's retreating back. As Shuichi disappeared in the fog, Yuki jumped up to follow, saying, "You can't just walk away from me!"
Yuki walked further into the fog, unable to see two feet in front of his face. The ground suddenly changed from green grass to concrete and mildewed carpet. The mist cleared to reveal that same ugly apartment.
This time, instead of participating, Yuki was merely an observer. He watched his former Sensei come on to a younger version of himself. He saw the two men come in and make their deal with Kitazawa. As stomach churning as it was to see he couldn't look away as they cornered Eiri like a scared rabbit.
Abruptly Kitazawa broke away from the tableau and walked over to speak with Yuki. "Exciting isn't it?" he asked conversationally.
"Not particularly," Yuki calmly answered, all of his masks firmly in place. "I already know how it ends."
"Do you? Are you sure you know?" Kitazawa asked mockingly, looking back to young Eiri with the men.
Yuki looked back to the scene in front of him. Instead of it all happening in the same familiar pattern, this time Eiri didn't grab the gun. This time his pants were ripped off as they wrestled him to the floor.
Yuki turned from the scene and facing Kitazawa hissed, "Stop it. That's not what happened."
"But it could have," Kitazawa replied. "You wanted it this way."
"No, I never wanted that," Yuki said fervently. "Never," he reiterated, pointedly not looking and trying his best to ignore the sounds of his younger self's torment.
Kitazawa sighed in disappointment. "I guess this means that all those times you said you'd do anything to bring me back you were lying. I'm disappointed, though not surprised. I miss Eiri. He was a whiney little bastard, but at least he was honest." Looking around Yuki at the broken sixteen-year-old Yuki could hear crying behind him, Kitazawa added, "Looks like it's my turn, unless you want to go first, Yuki? Yuki, are you paying attention to me? Do you want your turn or not?"
The old apartment faded out and was replaced by another apartment, this one sleek and modern. Yuki was sitting on the couch with Shuichi and Shuichi was holding out a play station controller saying, "It's your turn Yuki."
"Uhmm..." Yuki paused for a second to get his bearings, figuring that he must have fallen asleep on the couch while Shuichi played. "I don't really feel like playing."
"But Yukiii! You said that if I beat you at the game you'd take me out. How can I beat you if you don't play?" Shuichi protested.
"I said that?" Yuki asked, thinking that it didn't sound like something he'd say.
"You did," Shuichi replied. "How can you not remember? That was only like two minutes ago."
Yuki sat there looking at Shuichi for a second, ran a hand through his hair and finally said, "Go get your coat."
Shuichi ran to get his coat and the two of them left the apartment. Shuichi was happily chattering at his side while Yuki tried to puzzle out what was going on. He couldn't quite place what, but something just wasn't right.
"Yuki, are you paying attention?" Shuichi asked, waving a hand in front of Yuki's face.
"Huh?" Yuki said distractedly.
"Our anniversary. It's coming up. What are we going to do to celebrate? Five years is a pretty big deal," Shuichi explained.
"Five years..." Yuki said, completely confused. It had only been months, hadn't it?
Before Shuichi could answer, a car--just like the one Yuki had wrecked not too long ago--came careening around the corner. Shuichi, for no apparent reason, jumped in front of the car, hands held out in front of him, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Stop!"
Yuki was no longer on the street watching it happen. He was behind the wheel of the car, slamming on brakes as fast as he could, but not fast enough to keep from hitting his lover. He watched in horror as the small man, the one whom he was just talking to, flew over his hood and into his windshield.
Paramedics arrived, grabbed Shuichi's body and tossed it into the back of their van, like he was a sack of potatoes rather than a person, and sped away in an instant. Cops arrived to take Yuki in for questioning. Yuki numbly got out of the car--which was left, still running, on the street--and followed the officers into an adjacent building. He stepped through the doorway and into an abandoned New York apartment.
"Welcome back Yuki," Kitazawa said cheerfully. Then after an affected pause, as if he were seriously contemplating something, he added, "Although that's not technically true. I mean, you never really leave here, do you?"
"I already did this once tonight, why am I here again?" Yuki asked irritably, having just realized that he was still dreaming.
"How am I supposed to know? It's your dream," Kitazawa replied. "Anyway, since you're here are you going to take your turn?" he asked conversationally.
"I think I'll pass," Yuki said, gritting his teeth at the crying and pain filled moans coming from behind him.
"At least see what you're missing before you turn it down," Kitazawa insisted as he grabbed Yuki's shoulder and forcibly turned him around.
Yuki's eyes widened in shock. It wasn't his younger self lying there. It was Shuichi, his sweet, innocent, Shuichi. Yuki knew it was a dream, but that didn't matter. The gun was in his hand. The two men were dead on the ground and Yuki was cradling Shuichi's bruised and broken body in his lap. "Yuki?" Shuichi rasped out, reaching up to touch Yuki's face.
"Coming love," Kitazawa answered Shuichi brightly, as he started to undo his belt.
"Stay away from him," Yuki ordered.
"But, he called me," Kitazawa protested.
"You're not touching him," Yuki said threateningly.
"How are you going to stop me?" Kitazawa asked tauntingly.
"Same way I did last time," Yuki answered. Then, without a moment's hesitation he raised the gun and fired twice. A body thudded to the ground.
A laugh sounded next to Yuki. Kitazawa was kneeling next to Yuki, laughing his head off. "I shot you," Yuki said.
"Always so foolish," Kitazawa answered, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes and pointedly looked down at Shuichi. "You couldn't have shot me, I'm long dead and gone. It must have been someone else." Yuki followed Kitazawa's gaze to the two bullet holes in Shuichi's chest. "What is that old saying? Something about always hurting the one you love? And, Eiri-kun was always an overachiever..." Kitazawa observed with a smirk then faded from sight.
"No," Yuki said. "He's not dead. It's just a dream... isn't real... it's a dream... it isn't real..." he chanted to himself over and over like a prayer, yet despite that knowledge he couldn't stop himself from gathering the still form of his lover close to his heart nor keep the tears from coming.
Then warm hands, the scent of kiwi shampoo, and really bad cotton mouth. And the ice was gone, like it'd never been, although the feel of it still lingered somewhere in the recesses of his memory.
Amber eyes opened in the steely gray light just before dawn. He was Yuki Eiri, successful author. He was lying twisted in silk sheets in his very own bed in his very own ultra-modern apartment. The hands frantically petting his back and the high pitched voice repeating his name belonged to his lover, Shindo Shuichi a hyperactive pop star who also happened to be irresistibly adorable... some of the time.
Pushing his worried lover off his back, Yuki turned over and sat up in bed. After kicking free of the tangled sheets, he swung his silk pajama clad legs from beneath the covers and off the side of the bed. Momentarily distracted by his lover's sudden movement, Shuichi fell silent.
Yuki snagged a half empty bottle of spring water off the nightstand and sat up on his side of the bed, taking in deep breaths of the crisp morning air, sipping lukewarm water, and curling his toes in the soft area rug Shuichi had insisted on when the weather had turned cold--an insistence which Yuki was grateful for even if he'd never admit it out loud. He couldn't remember what he'd dreamt only that it was bad... perhaps even the worst nightmare ever in a long career of truly horrible nightmares. Catching his own haunted expression in the dresser mirror, Yuki snorted in self-derision. To get so worked up over a dream, a dream he couldn't even remember, was juvenile--or so he told himself.
Taking in Yuki's dejected posture and pain filled expression--Shuichi was for once at a loss for words. He settled himself behind Yuki, wrapped thin arms around Yuki's shoulders, and cuddled into his lover's bare back offering what comfort he could.
Yuki tensed for a moment, hating for anyone to see his weaknesses this way. Then, giving in to the inevitable, he let himself relax into the smaller man's embrace.
They sat there, Shuichi silently holding Yuki and Yuki letting him in that pre-dawn moment--seemingly outside of time. Then something shifted, some tiny thing happened to break the stillness, the sun moved enough to cast another shadow, a bird started singing, a leaf fell, some itty-bitty inconsequential thing which made time flow again.
Shuichi opened his mouth to say something. Yuki, spotting Shuichi's movement in the mirror, beat him to it. "Don't," Yuki ordered.
"Don't what?" Shuichi demanded indignantly. "I wasn't doing anything," he insisted as he shifted to wrap one leg around Yuki's waist and tightened his grip on his lover's shoulders.
"Don't ask if I want to tell you about it. I don't remember and even if I did I wouldn't want to talk about it," Yuki said acerbically. "Dream analysis is the province of new age morons and hack therapists."
Shuichi sniffed haughtily and declared, nose in the air, "I wasn't going to ask that. I was going to say the same thing you always say to me."
Yuki's only reply was an arched eyebrow.
"I was going to tell you to go back to sleep," Shuichi explained. Realizing that his lover, although obviously still a bit out of sorts, was starting to get back to his usual grumpy self--a way to distract Yuki from the dark thoughts currently plaguing him occurred to Shuichi. Giving Yuki his best lecherous look in the mirror, a look which actually looked more like a two-year-old begging for candy, Shuichi went on to say, "Since we're both already awake, we could do something else... if you want?"
Yuki glanced through the window at the just barely risen sun and said, "It's too early, I'd rather sleep."
"Yukiii..." Shuichi whined, pouting just a little bit.
Before Shuichi could work himself up to a full on Yuki-doesn't-want-me crying jag, Yuki half turned toward Shuichi, took the singer's chin in one hand, and kissed his protruding lip. "Later," Yuki said. "Now go to sleep."
Ecstatic to not receive the usual flat out rejection, Shuichi nodded happily and loosened his grip enough to let Yuki lie down on the bed again. He didn't completely let go of Yuki--Shuichi never let his lover out of his grasp unless forced to--but Yuki didn't really mind. As long as Shuichi wasn't clinging so tight he couldn't breath, Yuki didn't object to having the slight singer sprawled across his back--he actually found it kind of comforting.
Yuki shifted around a bit till he was once again situated comfortably on his stomach. Shuichi cuddled as close as humanly possible, kissed Yuki's shoulder, and pulled the discarded blankets over both of them.
Yuki lay there, staring at himself in the mirror, comfortable, relaxed, nightmare dispelled, and yet oddly still unable to fall asleep. Yuki listened to Shuichi breathing, already his breath had slowed to the rhythm of sleep but sleep still eluded Yuki. Suddenly, Yuki felt an overwhelming compulsion to do something he never thought he'd do.
He resisted. No way was ever going to do anything so foolish and stupid.
Then Shuichi murmured something incoherent in his sleep, and cuddled even closer to Yuki, pressing his cold nose to the back of Yuki's neck. Even in his sleep, all the singer wanted was to be close to 'his Yuki.'
Yuki sighed in resignation. Grasping the arm Shuichi'd thrown around his waist, Yuki gave him a little shake. "Don' wanna move," Shuichi complained sleepily.
"No one's asking you to move, brat," Yuki replied. "I just wanted to tell you something."
"Tell me something?" Shuichi asked curiously, fully awakened by Yuki's strange behavior.
"Yeah... There's something important you should know so listen carefully, no interruptions, I'm only going to say this once. Got it?"
"Uh huh," Shuichi agreed, nodding against Yuki's shoulder.
Yuki closed his eyes tightly, he didn't think he could do it if he saw Shuichi's expectant eyes. He grasped Shuichi's hand, opened his mouth, and nothing came out.
Shuichi laced his fingers between Yuki's, kissed the nearest patch of bare skin, and offered encouragingly, "You know you can tell me anything. I'll always love you, no matter what."
Yuki's eyes flew open, and catching Shuichi's gaze in the mirror he gave his young lover the glare of death. "What was it I just said about interruptions?" he asked threateningly.
"Sorry... I won't say another word," Shuichi promised.
Yuki took another deep breath, paused for a minute to gather his thoughts and ended up pausing for a minute too long. Shuichi was already squirming in impatience, the strain of keeping quiet apparent on his face. Yuki took one look at his lover and gave up. Yuki let go of Shuichi's hand, and pushed the singer halfway off his back. "Never-mind," Yuki said, "I'll tell you some other time."
"Yuki! You can't do that! You have to tell me," Shuichi insisted.
"Why?"
"Because... uhmm... because you just have to. You can't just tell someone you're going to tell him something important then not tell him!"
"I'll tell you when I figure out the right words," Yuki said, shrugging off Shuichi's incoherent objections.
"You don't need right words. Just blurt it out," Shuichi begged, the suspense killing him.
"Just blurt it out?" Yuki repeated incredulously, sitting up and unceremoniously dumping Shuichi on the other side of the bed in the process. "You don't even know what I was going to tell you and you want me to blurt it out? You're such a moron."
"Am not," Shuichi insisted, sitting up to face Yuki.
"Are too."
"Am not," Shuichi continued the argument, now nose to nose with Yuki.
Suddenly realizing the childishness of his position, Yuki fell back against the headboard and crossed his arms across his chest. "Fine," Yuki agreed. "You're not a moron. I am, for wanting to do the romantic thing for once and find the right words to say I love you. I should have known better than to say anything in the first place."
"Yuki loves me," Shuichi said wonderingly to himself. "I thought... but I didn't think you'd... You said you love me!" Shuichi exclaimed launching himself at Yuki. Sitting in Yuki's lap with his arms wrapped tightly around Yuki's neck, Shuichi babbled ecstatically, "I love you Yuki. I love you so much. And, I kind of thought you might love me too, or at least like me a lot, but I wasn't really sure so I worried that when you told me to go away you might really mean it but then you'd let me come back and I'd think that you probably really did love me and just didn't know how to show it, but now you said you love me and--"
Yuki cut Shuichi off with a kiss. "Quiet brat," Yuki whispered against Shuichi's lips.
"Mmm... Yuki say it again," Shuichi pleaded.
"No," Yuki refused Shuichi's plea as he nibbled Shuichi's ear and reconsidered Shuichi's earlier proposition.
"Please, Yuki, say it again," Shuichi asked, never one to give up easily.
"Eiri."
"Huh?" Shuichi said, confused and distracted by his lover's answer.
"My name is Eiri," Yuki clarified as he moved on to Shuichi's neck.
"Oh," Shuichi said not understanding. "Oh," Shuichi said a bit louder, realizing that it was a peace offering. Yuki wasn't ready to say the L-word as often as Shuichi needed to hear it but he could gift him with permission to use a name no one outside his immediate family, not even his beloved brother-in-law, was allowed to use, at least not without an honorific. "Oh," Shuichi said one last time, this time more of a moan than a comment as Yuki's mouth wandered from a newly created hickey downwards.