"You had a way so familiar, but I could not recognize, cause you had blood
on your face; I had blood in my eyes. But I could swear by your
expression that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in
mine." -Hedwig And The Angry Inch, The Origin of Love
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 3: Wasps In Disguise
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We are in high style! Shu-chan and Ryu-chan and Ten, going zoom zoom zoom through the best parts of the city in my limo. All the buildings are made of shiny shiny plastic, of polished glass, of sleek chrome and solid black marble. Everything reflects us back at us, like a funhouse mirror show at high speed.
And the citizens of Tokyo are gawking at us. 'Who could that -be-?' they wonder from behind briefcases and newspapers and business casual. A rich businessman? A politician? Who could be living that sort of lifestyle I dream about while I eat re-heated ramen at my desk?
That would be me! Sakuma Ryuichi!
And who is that stunningly amazing young man sitting next to you, Sakuma-san? Please tell us the name of that incredible creature oozing an air of whipped cream sex and tantalizing the world with silken tresses of pink and blue! What sort of alien lifeform has come to tempt Tokyo with sultry voice and hidden smile?
Is it.. Could it be...Shindou Shuichi?
Shuichi is definitely looking yummy yummy. He's wearing this short hot pink skirt with about a million buckles and zippers and straps over mesh tights. Over it, he's wearing this very plain white shirt with long tails. Oh, but the -best- are the white leather go-go boots which cling to his ankles and calves in a most deliciously scrumptious way.
He's like vanilla ice cream with cherry syrup, covered in millions of metallic sprinkles.
Kumagoro nudges me and tells me not to get too distracted. Shuichi doesn't belong to us, and we should definitely not be having those kinds of thoughts. He tells me to remember what happened last time we found such a pretty pretty butterfly and tried to catch it. It wasn't so pretty anymore with the wings pulled off, was it?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"What the fuck is your problem, Ryuichi?"
I'm not listening to him. I'm listening to my music, the music in my head, the music which needs to be put onto paper so I can sing it tomorrow. I can just see the paper on top of my piano from between shards of my hair which have fallen into my face. I -definitely- can't see Yukiro, who is clomping around my home office in those ridiculous club-kid shoes of his, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Talk to me, damn you! I'm tired of this shit!"
There is no reason to be upset. I am the very picture of calm. I remove my pencil from between my lips and mutter, "Go away. I have work to do."
If I don't look at him, I won't remember what he looks like, and maybe he will fade away. He'll fade away just like all the others, the ones I don't care enough to remember. Beautiful butterflies which landed on my hand, flexed their shimmering wings, invited me to love them... And I always do. I always fall for the same trick only to find they are wasps in disguise. They are always wasps in disguise.
All of them, except for one.
"Are you going to throw me away, too, Ryuichi? Is that it? You were the one who wanted -me-, remember? Not the other way around. You were the one who pursued -me-."
Would he stop talking? I need silence. I need to be able to hear myself think. Why is he so loud, Kumagoro? Punch him in the mouth? No. I'm working. I have important work...
"But, then, that's the way it is with you, isn't it, Ryuichi? Everything that catches your eye, you have to possess. You have to make people love you. But, once you have what you want, it isn't enough, is it? It's never enough for you."
That's enough. That's gone far enough. I swivel around in my chair. My face is burning. Everything in my vision seems so crisp, as if the colors have doubled in intensity through the mere addition of this strange heat. Yukiro is leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed, his trademark pout of anger plastered on his face. I thought it was cute, once. Didn't I?
I am the definition of the word 'steadiness'. My words pour from my mouth without a sliver of regret, crisp and cool as ice breaking away from a glacier. "I never loved you. You were merely a toy. And, now that I've done playing, you are not needed here anymore. You may leave."
Yukiro's pout turns into a frown, and from there, into a resounding yell. It doesn't effect me. I do not care for this person. This person means no more to me than a random stranger on the street.
"YOU...FUCKING...ASSHOLE..."
Those sleek hands which are so adept at manipulating a saxophone pick up a completely different instrument from a pair of hooks the wall. Yukiro turns the baby blue bass guitar over and over in his hands, arching his eyebrow with wicked intent. He runs his fingers along the curvature teasingly, chuckling at the fact that I am now on my feet.
No. Don't.
"Oh, now I have your attention, don't I?" His fingers wrap around the neck with excruciating deliberation. "Tomi gave you this piece of shit bass, didn't he? Yeah. That could be the only reason why you'd hang such an inferior instrument in here."
Not that one. Please don't...
"But, Ryuichi..." Yukiro coos, "You know what? I'm not Tomi. And do you know how I know that, lover?"
Oh god. Oh no.
I watch as Yukiro slams the guitar against the wall, over, and over, and over. I watch as it breaks, shatters, goes from being a thing of beauty into scraps of wood, flakes of metal, hunks of fiberglass. Bits of guitar flutter into the air, and float their way to the ground. Just like butterflies. Lost little butterflies, too stunned to fly.
"BECAUSE JUST LIKE THIS PIECE OF SHIT BASS, TOMI IS DEAD, YOU IGNORANT FUCK."
I don't know what I've picked up, but I'm throwing it at Yukiro. Whatever I can get my hands on, I'm hurtling at his head. Things smash against the wall, several times just barely missing the target. "Get OUT! Get out of my house. You are nothing. You are nothing to me!"
Before Yukiro leaves, he pushes over a case containing all sorts of toys and figurines. "Miserable and pathetic, that's what you are, Sakuma Ryuichi! Utterly miserable and astoundingly pathetic. Someday, just someday, the rest of the world will figure it out, too."
When he's finally gone, I fall to my knees. My bass guitar. It's in...so many pieces. Broken. So broken. I... I need to fix it. I have to put it back together. I have to... I can fix it. I can fix you, Tomi. I can make you better, I promise this time. I...
"Sakuma-san."
It's not so many pieces, really. It just needs care. Care and love and time can fix anything, can't it? If I care enough...if I want it enough...
"Sakuma-san, come on... You're bleeding."
Someone is pulling on my arm. Trying to pull me away. But, I need to stay here. Here with Tomi. He gave this to me. He'd be so upset and...
I'm being lifted, strong hands keep me from going back to the scene of wreckage. I'm being taken away. Through tears, I see a long black pony tail. Ten. Ten is trying to...
"Leave me alone! I want to be with Tomi!" I try to kick, bite, scratch. Anything, anything. I want everyone else to hurt as much as I do. I can't take this anymore. I don't want to be alive, if this is what it means to be alive. I can die. I'm not afraid. Not if Tomi will be waiting there for me. "I want to be with Tomi."
"I know you do," Ten grumbles, "I know you do."
Right before I pass out from Ten's punch to my stomach, I hear him whisper...
"But, you can't. Not anymore."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Shuuuuichi? Is it pika pika?" Kumagoro pops his head over the door of the dressing room to take a peek at the outfit Shuichi is trying. I'm jealous. I can't see that high, and Kumagoro won't tell me how it looks.
"Yeah, I think I'm going to get it."
"Yay!" I hop on one foot, almost spilling my champagne onto the floor. (Hehehe. I'm not supposed to have alcohol anymore. But, it's just champagne, and I like the bubbles.)
We're hanging out in 'Monochrome', which is this great retro boutique I like. Well, I -really- like it because the staff knows my style really well, and they put aside some cool stuff for me. Which is good, because the actual shopping part of shopping is mostly boring. Well, when you are alone, anyway.
All I am buying today are some belts and a new pair of cowboy boots (neon blue!). I think, after this, we'll go to a music store.
This is fun.
"Is everything alright, Sakuma-san? Is there anything we can get for you or Shindou-san?" Kiki, the store's owner, is always so helpful. She can get anything, really. She even special orders my hats from Texas.
"Pizza? Shu-chan, you want pizza?"
"Sure!"
"Can we have a really big pizza with all the toppings? Please, please, Kiki-chan?"
"Of course!" Kiki winks at me and hops off, "Anything for our favorite customer."
I'm her favorite. She likes me best. Hooray!
Shuichi finally comes out of the dressing room and shows me the outfit. The overcoat is a stunning concoction of black leather lined with faux pink fur, and underneath is a black mesh shirt over a purple PVC skirt. (I don't know why Shuichi likes skirts so much, but he looks gorgeous in them.) I fall sideways onto a nearby divan, clutching my heart, and sloshing champagne everywhere. I don't think I could have continued standing, even if I wanted. The sight utterly -melts- me. Except for the fact that I can see several large bruises through the mesh, Shuichi is -perfect-, so perfect.
"You like it?" Shuichi spins around, causing the end of the overcoat to fly out and ripple like the frosting curlicues on a cake.
"It's stunning, baby!" I say the last word in English, which causes Shuichi to smirk a bit at my impression of K. "Kumagoro agrees!"
"Kumagoro should get a job as a style expert."
"You think so, too?" I keep telling you, Kumagoro. You would be very successful. You could be a famous clothing designer bunny.
"Ugh!" Shuichi says, arching his back to stretch. His little stomach is mouth-wateringly tempting, so I focus on Kumagoro's ears. Floppity floppity. Bunny ears. Not thinking of Shuichi's bellybutton. "All my joints hurt. And, I'm so hungry, too. I'm glad you thought of lunch."
"Want some champagne? Er. I mean a soda, do you want a soda, na no da?" Probably not a good idea to put any liquor into Shuichi right now.
"After I put my...I mean your...clothes back on, maybe."
"Those are Shuichi's clothes now." I hop up off the divan, "I don't think Ryu-chan can walk in go-go boots, anyway."
Shuichi smiles. He actually smiles. When he smiles, you know why he has so many fans. Some people say he looks innocent, but that isn't it. Shuichi's face, the reason people adore him, is because of his sincerity. It's almost impossible for him to hide how he really feels about anything. That sincerity makes him like a crystal stream of water, showcasing a thousand rounded pebbles of emotion beneath.
His eyes never lie.
"Your eyes never lie."
Tomi's voice in my head makes me flinch. Thankfully, Shuichi is already back in the dressing room, trying to shimmy out of that naughty-thought provoking outfit. I take another sip of what remains of my champagne to stem the tide of a headache and look around our private lounge. All of the decor is in black and silver and swoops of decorative chrome. Thousands of tiny blue Christmas lights have been bundled into balls, creating stunning cerulean hanging lamps. Like ivies of light. I dig my bare toes into the plush grey carpet and listen to Shuichi's humming.
Oh, it's a Nittle Grasper song. I wonder if Shuichi knows that he's always trying to do something musical. Humming. Tapping. Music is -in- him. I wonder if he hears it all the time, just like I do.
"Well, crap," Shuichi murmurs.
"Hmmmmmmm?"
"Can't get this...zipper." I hear some part of Shuichi's body thud against the dressing room door. "It's stuck."
"Should Ryu-chan help?" Shut up, Kumagoro. He's -stuck-. It isn't like -that-. I'm not doing anything -wrong-.
"Yeah, I think..." Shuichi unlocks the door and opens it a few inches. "Come in."
Kumagoro and I slip into Shuichi's dressing room. Thank goodness it's a pretty big one. He has clothes strewn all over the place, a rising sea of fabrics, from satin to dense leather, threatening to crash down on our naked toes in a giant wave of haute couture.
"See? It's caught. And I can't pull the skirt down over my hips..." Shuichi shows me the offending zipper which is in...a place...I'd rather not be looking.
No, Shuichi, please don't wiggle like that.
"Oh-kay." I feel the blood draining from my head. Maybe I should not have had that champagne after all. "Kuma-chan and I will pull. You suck in. The monstrous zipper WILL be defeated! Garrrr!"
Kumagoro and I both wave our claws in the air, ready for battle. We've defeated worse monsters before. We slayed the mighty beast known as 'Gum-stuck-in-hair'! We've conquered the villainous 'Wine-on-Gucci'! We've even captured the dangerous 'Little-Mousy-Under-The-Sink'!
A zipper should be -no- problem, na no da.
He holds up the mesh shirt while I grab the zipper, trying my hardest not to think about the fact that I am working towards a goal of undressing Shuichi. And, even though my knuckles do brush against bare stomach in the process, I'm doing pretty well.
Shiver.
"Gar! Vile metal-thingy! Down! Down, we say!" Is it superglued? What is the trick, here? How'd he get this on in the first...
Right then, Shuichi's telephone rings.
And all the blood that previously rushed out of my head comes back in a tidal wave.
Everything becomes stillness, a jello cake coming to rest. I glance up at Shuichi, who is now reaching down towards the chair next to him to pick up the little pink Hello Kitty phone.
I can see bruise on the left side of Shuichi's stomach. I can see the fire rapidly dying beneath Shuichi's gaze. I can see the phone. I can see the future.
Pieces of broken guitar raining down around us like stunned butterflies.
I suddenly want to slap the damn cell out of his hand.
Time speeds back up, making that high pitched zrrrrrrrrrrppp sound that you hear when you switch to a higher RPM on a record player. Shuichi flips open the phone and holds it to his ear.
"Shuichi." What's this? He's smiling again. "Oh, hey Hiro. What's up?"
Oh. It's Hiroshi-kun. Argh. Maybe I shouldn't have had that champagne. I feel a bit dizzy now.
"Hm? Oh, I'm fine." There's a pause, and Shuichi leans his head to the side. "Yeah. A vacation. Isn't that cool?"
Zipper. Right. Get the zipper undone.
"How are the wedding plans going?"
I think this thing might be from another dimension, like those brain eating zombies in 'Night of The Zombies From Zeta Povira Six". Though, I don't think we can defeat it by sending Shuichi's crotch through an inter-dimensional portal.
"That's good. How's Fujisaki? What? A girlfriend? Disneyland? When did -this- happen? That cheeky little...He's been hiding this for how long?"
Well, hopefully brain eating zombies stick to brains, Kuma-chan. I don't think Shuichi really needs his bits gnawed off by an undead zipper, na no da.
"Hm? Me? Uh, well, right now Sakuma-san is trying to get this skirt off of me."
What the...
At this point, three things happen in rapid succession.
First, my sudden jerk at hearing Shuichi's explanation of my activities to his best friend causes the zipper to come undone.
Second, I realize that Shuichi isn't wearing anything -under- the PVC skirt.
This causes the third thing. I stumble backwards violently, tripping on some errant piece of clothing on the ground, and fall onto the dressing room door. This, not being locked in the first place, flies open, causing me to spill out into the lounge. Kumagoro and I tumble into a heap of OWIE, rolling and skidding until we bump into the small table by the divan.
On top of everything, the last half of my champagne tumbles off the corner of the table and splashes into my face.
"Ryu-chan, you okay?" Shuichi asks, peeking around the door of the dressing room.
"Sakuma-san, the pizza is here!" Kiki-san declares as she bounces into the lounge followed by the bulky figure of my bodyguard.
Ten, always too observant for MY own good takes one look at the empty glass laying by my head and says. "That had better not be champagne."
What can I do?
Just grin, I suppose.
For once, I don't think I can blame Kumagoro.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After shopping for clothes and music and manga and eating pizza and ice cream and parading around the city like the famous people we are supposed to be, Shuichi and I end up back at my penthouse.
We're laying around the front room like sated lions. Our kills, bags upon bags of merchandise, smell of the meaty scent of leather and the pulpy odor of paper. The able rhino (Ten) and the hurried gazelle (Molly) are nowhere to be found.
Kumagoro and I are reading this really great manga about space ninjas. But, we're having a bit of an argument because Kuma-chan reads faster than I do and keeps trying to turn the pages before I finish.
Shuichi is, I fear, laying on the ground with his feet up on the couch, listening to an old Tsunami Puppets CD.
I'm not such a big fan of theirs anymore.
I should microwave all of their CDs.
Which reminds me...I have a giant collection of CDs in the office and the office is...
"Shuuuuuuuichi?"
Shuichi pulls one side of his headphones out of his ear and turns his head to look at me. "You say somethin' Ryu-chan?"
"I have rooms!"
Shuichi's strawberry eyebrows wriggle in confusion.
"I have rooms, na no da! You don't have to sleep on the couch!"
Sometimes I forget that there is a whole other wing to my penthouse. I just don't often have too much use for it.
"Uh, okay?" Shuichi slips his feet off the couch and turns himself upright. "Let's go see?"
I'm glad that Shuichi can read my mind. I bounce up and open the door to the other half of the flat. Shuichi trails behind me, and I can hear the buzzing nasal singing of Tsunami Puppets coming from the flopping earpiece.
"Okay," I say, opening the first door. "This is the office, na no da. And...um...what's in this room here? Oh yeah, storage. Hm, I think I was supposed to sign those CDs a long time ago. Nevermind." I walk to the next set of doors and open them with flare. "And this is where my TV lives."
Shuichi leans over my shoulder and looks into the dim room as I search for the lights. "Um." He laughs nervously for some reason. "Ryuichi...that's a theater."
"Guess so." It is sort-of a theater. I didn't put it in there, though. The penthouse just came like that. The seats are really comfy nonetheless, big smushy recliners with special holders to put your drinks. I think there's a popcorn machine....somewhere. But, I don't know how to make it work, anyway, so it isn't important.
"I think this room here is..." I open another door off the hallway. "Oh, right. It was supposed to be a library but, I don't have enough books so I put...um..."
I put Tomi's pinball machines and old arcade games in there. We collected them for a while. That was good when Tomi had to stay home. We could go to the arcade without leaving and...
Although Shuichi is gawking at the old games, I nudge him back out of the room and close the door gently. I knew there were reasons I didn't use this part of my house very often. I guess I just forgot. When you're so busy all the time, it's easy to forget.
That's the whole -point- of making yourself busy, really.
"Here they are Shu-chan," I say, arriving at the end of the hall. "You can use this bedroom or this one. This one has a good view of the sunrise from the balcony, but the other one is bigger."
Shuichi walks into the one with the balcony. Just now, the sun is setting over Tokyo, creating shiny orange sparkles that dance against millions of windows and rooftops. Bits of neon and twinkles of halogen lights lay on the floor of our dominion, wasted confetti for some past celebration. In just a few minutes, the sunlight will give way, and the sparkles will disappear. Just like a birthday cake. Make a wish, and blow out the candles, Shuichi.
I will wish, too. I will wish for confusion to end. I wish for love to be as it is supposed to be. Joyous and everlasting.
I will wish for you...and Yuki-san...
I will wish that somehow, you'll wake up tomorrow, and it never happened.
It never happened, and it will never happen. And Yuki-san loves you, and you love him. Forever. That's the way it should be.
"Ryuichi?" Those blue eyes tinted with just a hint of purple are locked on mine. I bite my lip. Stupid tear. "You okay?"
Why does everyone end up taking care of me?
Kumagoro tells Shuichi that I just had a sad thought. A very sad thought.
I don't want to look at Shuichi's face, because he might be able to see in my eyes all the things I want so desperately.
I want to be loved, but more than that, I want Shuichi to love and be loved.
"Hey," Shuichi says, touching my chin, "Don't be sad. This was a really good day, Ryuichi. Best day I've had in a long time. And it's all because of you."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Shuichi leans forward, his bone thin arms wrapping around my neck in a tight hug. It's nice, being hugged like this. I'd forgotten how safe and calming it feels. I use Kuma-chan's ear to wipe away my tear. "So, lets... I mean, if you'll help me put all the stuff I bought in here, maybe we could watch a movie in that big TV room of yours."
"Can we watch Night of the Zombies from Zeta Povira Six?"
I feel Shuichi airy laughter hit my neck. "Is it any good? I haven't seen it."
"No," I reply, pulling myself away from his embrace. I shouldn't stay there. That harbor is not for me. "I think it's horrible, na no da."
"Then why do you want to watch it?"
I shrug. But, what I really mean to say is...
"Zombies are drawn to brains like I am drawn to you, Shuichi. We just can't help it."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We're watching the aforementioned movie. Somehow, Shuichi figured out how to make the popcorn machine work. Apparently, from what he tells me, he's very good in the kitchen, and used to cook for Yuki all the time. So, he knows all about how to make food.
I'm not allowed to use the stove...anymore.
(Ten found me sitting at my keyboard, tapping out some tune, while noxious smoke filled the entire apartment. I swear I didn't notice. I don't even remember putting that instant pizza in the oven. He said I was just like Nero, fiddling while Rome burns. I thought it was a mean thing to say to me just because I might be a -smidgen- forgetful.)
Kumagoro and I are engrossed in the movie, which we know by heart. Kuma-chan acts out the action scenes to my delight, even though it does occasionally upset the bowl of popcorn in my lap. Shuichi is tucked into one of the tan recliners, alternately watching the movie and doodling on his sketchpad.
He looks...distracted. More and more distracted by the minute, actually.
He keeps opening up his Hello Kitty phone and looking at it. I guess to figure out the time.
I briefly wonder what time Yuki-san usually calls. But, I don't have to wonder for long.
When the cell finally chirps its ringtone, Shuichi's shoulders go rigid. He picks it up, flips it open, and holds it to his ear.
Kumagoro suggests that the movie is a bit too loud, so we find the control and put it on pause.
"Yeah, it's me."
As Shuichi stares into indeterminate space in a perfect reflection of the zombies captured mid-movement on the screen, Kumagoro and I climb out of the our recliner and pretend to be very interested in getting more popcorn from the machine at the back of the room.
"Yuki..." The name itself echoes with a thousand different emotions. Pleading. Annoyance. Craving. Pain. Sorrow. Love. How can he fit so many things into just two syllables? "Yes. I'm fine."
Kuma-chan and I slink behind the last recliner in the room, squatting down to inspect the floor. We should probably let Shuichi have his privacy, but...if he needs me, I want to be here.
"I said I was fine." A small sigh, one so filled with longing it makes me twitch, floats through the air. "Yeah. Sakuma Ryuichi's house. Yeah. No. We went shopping. Watching a movie. Uh-huh."
Shuichi's brief answers have me perplexed. Obviously, Yuki-san is on the other end of the phone, asking him question after question. But, if Yuki-san had such disregard for Shuichi, why would he call? And, even if he did call...just out of some sort of sense of duty...why would he be so concerned about Shuichi's welfare? Unless he felt guilty, maybe. But, Yuki-san doesn't seem to be the guilty type.
Very perplexing, don't you think, Kumagoro?
"Yuki, what do you want from me?"
This time the tone is different, darker. The sadness that oozed from Shuichi when I found him in his hotel room returns, creeping around the edges of his voice.
"Do you love me, Yuki?"
I hear the answer. Even though I am across the room. In the stillness, with Shuichi, Kumagoro, and I all holding our breath, you could hear a an ice cube melt. One single buzz comes from the phone. One word of affirmation, said low and tender, lifting all three of us on a wave and dashing us upon the rocks. "Yes."
"Then, why? Why, Yuki?" Yes, why? Why would you do such a horrible thing to Shuichi? If you love someone...
Seconds pass, and there is no subsequent noise coming from Shuichi's cell. Kumagoro and I peek over the top of the recliner, staring across the room to where I can only see Shuichi's hand hanging over the side of his chair. Limp. Limp like a corpse.
Like the zombies ate his brain.
"Why won't you answer me? Answer me, Yuki!"
Apparently, there are no more words to come from the cold-hearted writer. Shuichi mumbles, "Whatever. Goodbye."
As Shuichi snaps his phone closed, I tip-toe up the aisle. I find Shuichi half-swallowed by the monstrous chair, staring at Hello Kitty's mouthless, ever-expressionless, face.
"She's got it good," Shuichi whispers, "No mouth. Can't smile. Can't frown. Must be nice."
I kneel in front of Shuichi and gently take the phone from his hand, quietly replacing it with Kumagoro. Slick trails of tears pour from Shuichi's eyes and leap from his chin onto the top of Kuma-chan's head. I want to wrap my arms around him. I want to pull him close and tell him it will be okay now. But, that would be a lie, and I don't want to lie to Shuichi.
So, instead, I say, "Shu-chan, you okay?" Which, of course, he is not. But, there is nothing, really, you can say in these situations, as far as I know. Not unless you are -much- smarter than I am.
Eyes flicker from Kumagoro to me. "He says he loves me, but..."
"Maybe he doesn't know why. Maybe, he was scared of your closeness and he took it out on you, Shuichi. And maybe he just doesn't know how to say he is sorry. But, if he loves you...and you love him...surely it can be worked out, right?"
Shuichi's hands rapidly clench into fists so tight that I'm worried for poor Kuma-chan's health. Suddenly, Shuichi bolts up, standing so quickly I'm knocked onto my rump. "I want to see him, Ryuichi."
Blink.
Blink blink.
"Um. Now?"
Shuichi nods. "Will you come with? Be my moral support?" He grabs my hands and squeezes them. His voice, soft and mournful, dribbles from his lips to my ears. "Please, I really could use your help. If I just understood...if I could just see it in his face that he is truly sorry... Please, Ryuichi?"
Gar. How ungood.
I try to say no. I make my lips form the word, force them to disagree, but...in the end, I can't. Not with the sweetness of that 'please'.
He said he could really use my help.
Sigh.
Tohma is going to kill me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
One Hour Later:
I am going to kill Tohma.
Sharp hooks prying apart the lobes of my brain. Burning sensation at my fingertips. Yes. Fire. I see nothing but a world of fire.
I seem to have a tire iron in my hands.
Shuichi...crying. Shuichi...in a ball at the bottom of the stairs. Shuichi can do little more than take in quavering breaths. He's stunned. Nigh-catatonic with horror, he pulls on his hair while rocking back and forth.
Cruelty. Utter cruelty.
How could I not know?
The tire iron swings of it's own accord, smashing into Tohma's BMW. Glass shoots everywhere, raining down like glitter in a sadistic parade. It flies into my arms. Into my face, perhaps. I don't care if I am bleeding. I don't care how much I hurt, because I still hear Shuichi's pained sobs.
The headlights. The hood. The roof. I wish it were Tohma's body. I wish it were Yuki Eiri's. The clattering sound of metal on metal echos through the sleeping neighborhood, causing a half-dozen lights to flip on and provoking a several dogs to bark.
If I knew which car belonged to Yuki Eiri...
"You can't understand this, Ryuichi." That's what he said.
Like hell I can't.
"It's complicated." He said that, too.
I'm not -that- stupid.
"I told you not to come here. You shouldn't have come here."
No, Tohma. -You- shouldn't have come here.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In Our Next Chapter: We go back in time to find out what, exactly, set Ryuichi off. Shuichi ends up even more broken than before and might even try to end it all. Another confrontation causes accusations to fly. And Tomi's last words to Ryuichi are revealed... I hope you'll stay tuned to the glorious angst-fest which is this story!
***Author Notes:
I don't have any notes for this chapter, but if you have any questions, do let me know. Not a lot important happens in this chapter, except at the end. Just a smidgen more character development, I suppose.
I will only give you one hint. It is, indeed, complicated...just like Tohma says.
***Review Notes:
Thank you very much for your nice reviews. They make me so happy. They are like little happy bon-bons which make writing all the sweeter. Oh good lord, I'm thinking in candy metaphors like Ryuichi now. Yikes.
So, extra special strawberry-flavored-pocky thanks to: Bloaty Kitsune, anon, Burned Vamp, Aibyouka, pinksakuya, and Lasaire
Yma: Thanks for your extensive review. :D :D Yeah, I wasn't too keen on the speed of the "relationship development", but since the story focuses on Shuichi and Ryuichi, I didn't want to spend -too- much time on it. Blar. Maybe I will tweak it a bit in edit.
Ranger: Maybe angst/romance, you think? Categories are so hard. I don't really know if this counts as "drama" or not. I guess it does. Hrm.
hidesfaerie: Thanks for the pocky and plushes. Teehee.
Catastrophe: Glad you are enjoying the story!
riversprite77: Happy ending? Maybe...maybe a bit of happy -and- sad?
xpyne: Good questions, all. I hope some of them will be answered in the next chapter. :D
natsu-chan: Yeah, but who would Shuichi -not- be cute with? Chuckle. Such a cutie, that one.
Wakaba-sama: Soul hurt? Oh geez, I hope not. There's a bit of humor in this chapter, so maybe it isn't as bad?
Veleda: Sleep is calling me, too. I think these are the shortest review answers I've written in a long time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 3: Wasps In Disguise
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We are in high style! Shu-chan and Ryu-chan and Ten, going zoom zoom zoom through the best parts of the city in my limo. All the buildings are made of shiny shiny plastic, of polished glass, of sleek chrome and solid black marble. Everything reflects us back at us, like a funhouse mirror show at high speed.
And the citizens of Tokyo are gawking at us. 'Who could that -be-?' they wonder from behind briefcases and newspapers and business casual. A rich businessman? A politician? Who could be living that sort of lifestyle I dream about while I eat re-heated ramen at my desk?
That would be me! Sakuma Ryuichi!
And who is that stunningly amazing young man sitting next to you, Sakuma-san? Please tell us the name of that incredible creature oozing an air of whipped cream sex and tantalizing the world with silken tresses of pink and blue! What sort of alien lifeform has come to tempt Tokyo with sultry voice and hidden smile?
Is it.. Could it be...Shindou Shuichi?
Shuichi is definitely looking yummy yummy. He's wearing this short hot pink skirt with about a million buckles and zippers and straps over mesh tights. Over it, he's wearing this very plain white shirt with long tails. Oh, but the -best- are the white leather go-go boots which cling to his ankles and calves in a most deliciously scrumptious way.
He's like vanilla ice cream with cherry syrup, covered in millions of metallic sprinkles.
Kumagoro nudges me and tells me not to get too distracted. Shuichi doesn't belong to us, and we should definitely not be having those kinds of thoughts. He tells me to remember what happened last time we found such a pretty pretty butterfly and tried to catch it. It wasn't so pretty anymore with the wings pulled off, was it?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"What the fuck is your problem, Ryuichi?"
I'm not listening to him. I'm listening to my music, the music in my head, the music which needs to be put onto paper so I can sing it tomorrow. I can just see the paper on top of my piano from between shards of my hair which have fallen into my face. I -definitely- can't see Yukiro, who is clomping around my home office in those ridiculous club-kid shoes of his, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Talk to me, damn you! I'm tired of this shit!"
There is no reason to be upset. I am the very picture of calm. I remove my pencil from between my lips and mutter, "Go away. I have work to do."
If I don't look at him, I won't remember what he looks like, and maybe he will fade away. He'll fade away just like all the others, the ones I don't care enough to remember. Beautiful butterflies which landed on my hand, flexed their shimmering wings, invited me to love them... And I always do. I always fall for the same trick only to find they are wasps in disguise. They are always wasps in disguise.
All of them, except for one.
"Are you going to throw me away, too, Ryuichi? Is that it? You were the one who wanted -me-, remember? Not the other way around. You were the one who pursued -me-."
Would he stop talking? I need silence. I need to be able to hear myself think. Why is he so loud, Kumagoro? Punch him in the mouth? No. I'm working. I have important work...
"But, then, that's the way it is with you, isn't it, Ryuichi? Everything that catches your eye, you have to possess. You have to make people love you. But, once you have what you want, it isn't enough, is it? It's never enough for you."
That's enough. That's gone far enough. I swivel around in my chair. My face is burning. Everything in my vision seems so crisp, as if the colors have doubled in intensity through the mere addition of this strange heat. Yukiro is leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed, his trademark pout of anger plastered on his face. I thought it was cute, once. Didn't I?
I am the definition of the word 'steadiness'. My words pour from my mouth without a sliver of regret, crisp and cool as ice breaking away from a glacier. "I never loved you. You were merely a toy. And, now that I've done playing, you are not needed here anymore. You may leave."
Yukiro's pout turns into a frown, and from there, into a resounding yell. It doesn't effect me. I do not care for this person. This person means no more to me than a random stranger on the street.
"YOU...FUCKING...ASSHOLE..."
Those sleek hands which are so adept at manipulating a saxophone pick up a completely different instrument from a pair of hooks the wall. Yukiro turns the baby blue bass guitar over and over in his hands, arching his eyebrow with wicked intent. He runs his fingers along the curvature teasingly, chuckling at the fact that I am now on my feet.
No. Don't.
"Oh, now I have your attention, don't I?" His fingers wrap around the neck with excruciating deliberation. "Tomi gave you this piece of shit bass, didn't he? Yeah. That could be the only reason why you'd hang such an inferior instrument in here."
Not that one. Please don't...
"But, Ryuichi..." Yukiro coos, "You know what? I'm not Tomi. And do you know how I know that, lover?"
Oh god. Oh no.
I watch as Yukiro slams the guitar against the wall, over, and over, and over. I watch as it breaks, shatters, goes from being a thing of beauty into scraps of wood, flakes of metal, hunks of fiberglass. Bits of guitar flutter into the air, and float their way to the ground. Just like butterflies. Lost little butterflies, too stunned to fly.
"BECAUSE JUST LIKE THIS PIECE OF SHIT BASS, TOMI IS DEAD, YOU IGNORANT FUCK."
I don't know what I've picked up, but I'm throwing it at Yukiro. Whatever I can get my hands on, I'm hurtling at his head. Things smash against the wall, several times just barely missing the target. "Get OUT! Get out of my house. You are nothing. You are nothing to me!"
Before Yukiro leaves, he pushes over a case containing all sorts of toys and figurines. "Miserable and pathetic, that's what you are, Sakuma Ryuichi! Utterly miserable and astoundingly pathetic. Someday, just someday, the rest of the world will figure it out, too."
When he's finally gone, I fall to my knees. My bass guitar. It's in...so many pieces. Broken. So broken. I... I need to fix it. I have to put it back together. I have to... I can fix it. I can fix you, Tomi. I can make you better, I promise this time. I...
"Sakuma-san."
It's not so many pieces, really. It just needs care. Care and love and time can fix anything, can't it? If I care enough...if I want it enough...
"Sakuma-san, come on... You're bleeding."
Someone is pulling on my arm. Trying to pull me away. But, I need to stay here. Here with Tomi. He gave this to me. He'd be so upset and...
I'm being lifted, strong hands keep me from going back to the scene of wreckage. I'm being taken away. Through tears, I see a long black pony tail. Ten. Ten is trying to...
"Leave me alone! I want to be with Tomi!" I try to kick, bite, scratch. Anything, anything. I want everyone else to hurt as much as I do. I can't take this anymore. I don't want to be alive, if this is what it means to be alive. I can die. I'm not afraid. Not if Tomi will be waiting there for me. "I want to be with Tomi."
"I know you do," Ten grumbles, "I know you do."
Right before I pass out from Ten's punch to my stomach, I hear him whisper...
"But, you can't. Not anymore."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Shuuuuichi? Is it pika pika?" Kumagoro pops his head over the door of the dressing room to take a peek at the outfit Shuichi is trying. I'm jealous. I can't see that high, and Kumagoro won't tell me how it looks.
"Yeah, I think I'm going to get it."
"Yay!" I hop on one foot, almost spilling my champagne onto the floor. (Hehehe. I'm not supposed to have alcohol anymore. But, it's just champagne, and I like the bubbles.)
We're hanging out in 'Monochrome', which is this great retro boutique I like. Well, I -really- like it because the staff knows my style really well, and they put aside some cool stuff for me. Which is good, because the actual shopping part of shopping is mostly boring. Well, when you are alone, anyway.
All I am buying today are some belts and a new pair of cowboy boots (neon blue!). I think, after this, we'll go to a music store.
This is fun.
"Is everything alright, Sakuma-san? Is there anything we can get for you or Shindou-san?" Kiki, the store's owner, is always so helpful. She can get anything, really. She even special orders my hats from Texas.
"Pizza? Shu-chan, you want pizza?"
"Sure!"
"Can we have a really big pizza with all the toppings? Please, please, Kiki-chan?"
"Of course!" Kiki winks at me and hops off, "Anything for our favorite customer."
I'm her favorite. She likes me best. Hooray!
Shuichi finally comes out of the dressing room and shows me the outfit. The overcoat is a stunning concoction of black leather lined with faux pink fur, and underneath is a black mesh shirt over a purple PVC skirt. (I don't know why Shuichi likes skirts so much, but he looks gorgeous in them.) I fall sideways onto a nearby divan, clutching my heart, and sloshing champagne everywhere. I don't think I could have continued standing, even if I wanted. The sight utterly -melts- me. Except for the fact that I can see several large bruises through the mesh, Shuichi is -perfect-, so perfect.
"You like it?" Shuichi spins around, causing the end of the overcoat to fly out and ripple like the frosting curlicues on a cake.
"It's stunning, baby!" I say the last word in English, which causes Shuichi to smirk a bit at my impression of K. "Kumagoro agrees!"
"Kumagoro should get a job as a style expert."
"You think so, too?" I keep telling you, Kumagoro. You would be very successful. You could be a famous clothing designer bunny.
"Ugh!" Shuichi says, arching his back to stretch. His little stomach is mouth-wateringly tempting, so I focus on Kumagoro's ears. Floppity floppity. Bunny ears. Not thinking of Shuichi's bellybutton. "All my joints hurt. And, I'm so hungry, too. I'm glad you thought of lunch."
"Want some champagne? Er. I mean a soda, do you want a soda, na no da?" Probably not a good idea to put any liquor into Shuichi right now.
"After I put my...I mean your...clothes back on, maybe."
"Those are Shuichi's clothes now." I hop up off the divan, "I don't think Ryu-chan can walk in go-go boots, anyway."
Shuichi smiles. He actually smiles. When he smiles, you know why he has so many fans. Some people say he looks innocent, but that isn't it. Shuichi's face, the reason people adore him, is because of his sincerity. It's almost impossible for him to hide how he really feels about anything. That sincerity makes him like a crystal stream of water, showcasing a thousand rounded pebbles of emotion beneath.
His eyes never lie.
"Your eyes never lie."
Tomi's voice in my head makes me flinch. Thankfully, Shuichi is already back in the dressing room, trying to shimmy out of that naughty-thought provoking outfit. I take another sip of what remains of my champagne to stem the tide of a headache and look around our private lounge. All of the decor is in black and silver and swoops of decorative chrome. Thousands of tiny blue Christmas lights have been bundled into balls, creating stunning cerulean hanging lamps. Like ivies of light. I dig my bare toes into the plush grey carpet and listen to Shuichi's humming.
Oh, it's a Nittle Grasper song. I wonder if Shuichi knows that he's always trying to do something musical. Humming. Tapping. Music is -in- him. I wonder if he hears it all the time, just like I do.
"Well, crap," Shuichi murmurs.
"Hmmmmmmm?"
"Can't get this...zipper." I hear some part of Shuichi's body thud against the dressing room door. "It's stuck."
"Should Ryu-chan help?" Shut up, Kumagoro. He's -stuck-. It isn't like -that-. I'm not doing anything -wrong-.
"Yeah, I think..." Shuichi unlocks the door and opens it a few inches. "Come in."
Kumagoro and I slip into Shuichi's dressing room. Thank goodness it's a pretty big one. He has clothes strewn all over the place, a rising sea of fabrics, from satin to dense leather, threatening to crash down on our naked toes in a giant wave of haute couture.
"See? It's caught. And I can't pull the skirt down over my hips..." Shuichi shows me the offending zipper which is in...a place...I'd rather not be looking.
No, Shuichi, please don't wiggle like that.
"Oh-kay." I feel the blood draining from my head. Maybe I should not have had that champagne after all. "Kuma-chan and I will pull. You suck in. The monstrous zipper WILL be defeated! Garrrr!"
Kumagoro and I both wave our claws in the air, ready for battle. We've defeated worse monsters before. We slayed the mighty beast known as 'Gum-stuck-in-hair'! We've conquered the villainous 'Wine-on-Gucci'! We've even captured the dangerous 'Little-Mousy-Under-The-Sink'!
A zipper should be -no- problem, na no da.
He holds up the mesh shirt while I grab the zipper, trying my hardest not to think about the fact that I am working towards a goal of undressing Shuichi. And, even though my knuckles do brush against bare stomach in the process, I'm doing pretty well.
Shiver.
"Gar! Vile metal-thingy! Down! Down, we say!" Is it superglued? What is the trick, here? How'd he get this on in the first...
Right then, Shuichi's telephone rings.
And all the blood that previously rushed out of my head comes back in a tidal wave.
Everything becomes stillness, a jello cake coming to rest. I glance up at Shuichi, who is now reaching down towards the chair next to him to pick up the little pink Hello Kitty phone.
I can see bruise on the left side of Shuichi's stomach. I can see the fire rapidly dying beneath Shuichi's gaze. I can see the phone. I can see the future.
Pieces of broken guitar raining down around us like stunned butterflies.
I suddenly want to slap the damn cell out of his hand.
Time speeds back up, making that high pitched zrrrrrrrrrrppp sound that you hear when you switch to a higher RPM on a record player. Shuichi flips open the phone and holds it to his ear.
"Shuichi." What's this? He's smiling again. "Oh, hey Hiro. What's up?"
Oh. It's Hiroshi-kun. Argh. Maybe I shouldn't have had that champagne. I feel a bit dizzy now.
"Hm? Oh, I'm fine." There's a pause, and Shuichi leans his head to the side. "Yeah. A vacation. Isn't that cool?"
Zipper. Right. Get the zipper undone.
"How are the wedding plans going?"
I think this thing might be from another dimension, like those brain eating zombies in 'Night of The Zombies From Zeta Povira Six". Though, I don't think we can defeat it by sending Shuichi's crotch through an inter-dimensional portal.
"That's good. How's Fujisaki? What? A girlfriend? Disneyland? When did -this- happen? That cheeky little...He's been hiding this for how long?"
Well, hopefully brain eating zombies stick to brains, Kuma-chan. I don't think Shuichi really needs his bits gnawed off by an undead zipper, na no da.
"Hm? Me? Uh, well, right now Sakuma-san is trying to get this skirt off of me."
What the...
At this point, three things happen in rapid succession.
First, my sudden jerk at hearing Shuichi's explanation of my activities to his best friend causes the zipper to come undone.
Second, I realize that Shuichi isn't wearing anything -under- the PVC skirt.
This causes the third thing. I stumble backwards violently, tripping on some errant piece of clothing on the ground, and fall onto the dressing room door. This, not being locked in the first place, flies open, causing me to spill out into the lounge. Kumagoro and I tumble into a heap of OWIE, rolling and skidding until we bump into the small table by the divan.
On top of everything, the last half of my champagne tumbles off the corner of the table and splashes into my face.
"Ryu-chan, you okay?" Shuichi asks, peeking around the door of the dressing room.
"Sakuma-san, the pizza is here!" Kiki-san declares as she bounces into the lounge followed by the bulky figure of my bodyguard.
Ten, always too observant for MY own good takes one look at the empty glass laying by my head and says. "That had better not be champagne."
What can I do?
Just grin, I suppose.
For once, I don't think I can blame Kumagoro.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After shopping for clothes and music and manga and eating pizza and ice cream and parading around the city like the famous people we are supposed to be, Shuichi and I end up back at my penthouse.
We're laying around the front room like sated lions. Our kills, bags upon bags of merchandise, smell of the meaty scent of leather and the pulpy odor of paper. The able rhino (Ten) and the hurried gazelle (Molly) are nowhere to be found.
Kumagoro and I are reading this really great manga about space ninjas. But, we're having a bit of an argument because Kuma-chan reads faster than I do and keeps trying to turn the pages before I finish.
Shuichi is, I fear, laying on the ground with his feet up on the couch, listening to an old Tsunami Puppets CD.
I'm not such a big fan of theirs anymore.
I should microwave all of their CDs.
Which reminds me...I have a giant collection of CDs in the office and the office is...
"Shuuuuuuuichi?"
Shuichi pulls one side of his headphones out of his ear and turns his head to look at me. "You say somethin' Ryu-chan?"
"I have rooms!"
Shuichi's strawberry eyebrows wriggle in confusion.
"I have rooms, na no da! You don't have to sleep on the couch!"
Sometimes I forget that there is a whole other wing to my penthouse. I just don't often have too much use for it.
"Uh, okay?" Shuichi slips his feet off the couch and turns himself upright. "Let's go see?"
I'm glad that Shuichi can read my mind. I bounce up and open the door to the other half of the flat. Shuichi trails behind me, and I can hear the buzzing nasal singing of Tsunami Puppets coming from the flopping earpiece.
"Okay," I say, opening the first door. "This is the office, na no da. And...um...what's in this room here? Oh yeah, storage. Hm, I think I was supposed to sign those CDs a long time ago. Nevermind." I walk to the next set of doors and open them with flare. "And this is where my TV lives."
Shuichi leans over my shoulder and looks into the dim room as I search for the lights. "Um." He laughs nervously for some reason. "Ryuichi...that's a theater."
"Guess so." It is sort-of a theater. I didn't put it in there, though. The penthouse just came like that. The seats are really comfy nonetheless, big smushy recliners with special holders to put your drinks. I think there's a popcorn machine....somewhere. But, I don't know how to make it work, anyway, so it isn't important.
"I think this room here is..." I open another door off the hallway. "Oh, right. It was supposed to be a library but, I don't have enough books so I put...um..."
I put Tomi's pinball machines and old arcade games in there. We collected them for a while. That was good when Tomi had to stay home. We could go to the arcade without leaving and...
Although Shuichi is gawking at the old games, I nudge him back out of the room and close the door gently. I knew there were reasons I didn't use this part of my house very often. I guess I just forgot. When you're so busy all the time, it's easy to forget.
That's the whole -point- of making yourself busy, really.
"Here they are Shu-chan," I say, arriving at the end of the hall. "You can use this bedroom or this one. This one has a good view of the sunrise from the balcony, but the other one is bigger."
Shuichi walks into the one with the balcony. Just now, the sun is setting over Tokyo, creating shiny orange sparkles that dance against millions of windows and rooftops. Bits of neon and twinkles of halogen lights lay on the floor of our dominion, wasted confetti for some past celebration. In just a few minutes, the sunlight will give way, and the sparkles will disappear. Just like a birthday cake. Make a wish, and blow out the candles, Shuichi.
I will wish, too. I will wish for confusion to end. I wish for love to be as it is supposed to be. Joyous and everlasting.
I will wish for you...and Yuki-san...
I will wish that somehow, you'll wake up tomorrow, and it never happened.
It never happened, and it will never happen. And Yuki-san loves you, and you love him. Forever. That's the way it should be.
"Ryuichi?" Those blue eyes tinted with just a hint of purple are locked on mine. I bite my lip. Stupid tear. "You okay?"
Why does everyone end up taking care of me?
Kumagoro tells Shuichi that I just had a sad thought. A very sad thought.
I don't want to look at Shuichi's face, because he might be able to see in my eyes all the things I want so desperately.
I want to be loved, but more than that, I want Shuichi to love and be loved.
"Hey," Shuichi says, touching my chin, "Don't be sad. This was a really good day, Ryuichi. Best day I've had in a long time. And it's all because of you."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Shuichi leans forward, his bone thin arms wrapping around my neck in a tight hug. It's nice, being hugged like this. I'd forgotten how safe and calming it feels. I use Kuma-chan's ear to wipe away my tear. "So, lets... I mean, if you'll help me put all the stuff I bought in here, maybe we could watch a movie in that big TV room of yours."
"Can we watch Night of the Zombies from Zeta Povira Six?"
I feel Shuichi airy laughter hit my neck. "Is it any good? I haven't seen it."
"No," I reply, pulling myself away from his embrace. I shouldn't stay there. That harbor is not for me. "I think it's horrible, na no da."
"Then why do you want to watch it?"
I shrug. But, what I really mean to say is...
"Zombies are drawn to brains like I am drawn to you, Shuichi. We just can't help it."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
We're watching the aforementioned movie. Somehow, Shuichi figured out how to make the popcorn machine work. Apparently, from what he tells me, he's very good in the kitchen, and used to cook for Yuki all the time. So, he knows all about how to make food.
I'm not allowed to use the stove...anymore.
(Ten found me sitting at my keyboard, tapping out some tune, while noxious smoke filled the entire apartment. I swear I didn't notice. I don't even remember putting that instant pizza in the oven. He said I was just like Nero, fiddling while Rome burns. I thought it was a mean thing to say to me just because I might be a -smidgen- forgetful.)
Kumagoro and I are engrossed in the movie, which we know by heart. Kuma-chan acts out the action scenes to my delight, even though it does occasionally upset the bowl of popcorn in my lap. Shuichi is tucked into one of the tan recliners, alternately watching the movie and doodling on his sketchpad.
He looks...distracted. More and more distracted by the minute, actually.
He keeps opening up his Hello Kitty phone and looking at it. I guess to figure out the time.
I briefly wonder what time Yuki-san usually calls. But, I don't have to wonder for long.
When the cell finally chirps its ringtone, Shuichi's shoulders go rigid. He picks it up, flips it open, and holds it to his ear.
Kumagoro suggests that the movie is a bit too loud, so we find the control and put it on pause.
"Yeah, it's me."
As Shuichi stares into indeterminate space in a perfect reflection of the zombies captured mid-movement on the screen, Kumagoro and I climb out of the our recliner and pretend to be very interested in getting more popcorn from the machine at the back of the room.
"Yuki..." The name itself echoes with a thousand different emotions. Pleading. Annoyance. Craving. Pain. Sorrow. Love. How can he fit so many things into just two syllables? "Yes. I'm fine."
Kuma-chan and I slink behind the last recliner in the room, squatting down to inspect the floor. We should probably let Shuichi have his privacy, but...if he needs me, I want to be here.
"I said I was fine." A small sigh, one so filled with longing it makes me twitch, floats through the air. "Yeah. Sakuma Ryuichi's house. Yeah. No. We went shopping. Watching a movie. Uh-huh."
Shuichi's brief answers have me perplexed. Obviously, Yuki-san is on the other end of the phone, asking him question after question. But, if Yuki-san had such disregard for Shuichi, why would he call? And, even if he did call...just out of some sort of sense of duty...why would he be so concerned about Shuichi's welfare? Unless he felt guilty, maybe. But, Yuki-san doesn't seem to be the guilty type.
Very perplexing, don't you think, Kumagoro?
"Yuki, what do you want from me?"
This time the tone is different, darker. The sadness that oozed from Shuichi when I found him in his hotel room returns, creeping around the edges of his voice.
"Do you love me, Yuki?"
I hear the answer. Even though I am across the room. In the stillness, with Shuichi, Kumagoro, and I all holding our breath, you could hear a an ice cube melt. One single buzz comes from the phone. One word of affirmation, said low and tender, lifting all three of us on a wave and dashing us upon the rocks. "Yes."
"Then, why? Why, Yuki?" Yes, why? Why would you do such a horrible thing to Shuichi? If you love someone...
Seconds pass, and there is no subsequent noise coming from Shuichi's cell. Kumagoro and I peek over the top of the recliner, staring across the room to where I can only see Shuichi's hand hanging over the side of his chair. Limp. Limp like a corpse.
Like the zombies ate his brain.
"Why won't you answer me? Answer me, Yuki!"
Apparently, there are no more words to come from the cold-hearted writer. Shuichi mumbles, "Whatever. Goodbye."
As Shuichi snaps his phone closed, I tip-toe up the aisle. I find Shuichi half-swallowed by the monstrous chair, staring at Hello Kitty's mouthless, ever-expressionless, face.
"She's got it good," Shuichi whispers, "No mouth. Can't smile. Can't frown. Must be nice."
I kneel in front of Shuichi and gently take the phone from his hand, quietly replacing it with Kumagoro. Slick trails of tears pour from Shuichi's eyes and leap from his chin onto the top of Kuma-chan's head. I want to wrap my arms around him. I want to pull him close and tell him it will be okay now. But, that would be a lie, and I don't want to lie to Shuichi.
So, instead, I say, "Shu-chan, you okay?" Which, of course, he is not. But, there is nothing, really, you can say in these situations, as far as I know. Not unless you are -much- smarter than I am.
Eyes flicker from Kumagoro to me. "He says he loves me, but..."
"Maybe he doesn't know why. Maybe, he was scared of your closeness and he took it out on you, Shuichi. And maybe he just doesn't know how to say he is sorry. But, if he loves you...and you love him...surely it can be worked out, right?"
Shuichi's hands rapidly clench into fists so tight that I'm worried for poor Kuma-chan's health. Suddenly, Shuichi bolts up, standing so quickly I'm knocked onto my rump. "I want to see him, Ryuichi."
Blink.
Blink blink.
"Um. Now?"
Shuichi nods. "Will you come with? Be my moral support?" He grabs my hands and squeezes them. His voice, soft and mournful, dribbles from his lips to my ears. "Please, I really could use your help. If I just understood...if I could just see it in his face that he is truly sorry... Please, Ryuichi?"
Gar. How ungood.
I try to say no. I make my lips form the word, force them to disagree, but...in the end, I can't. Not with the sweetness of that 'please'.
He said he could really use my help.
Sigh.
Tohma is going to kill me.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
One Hour Later:
I am going to kill Tohma.
Sharp hooks prying apart the lobes of my brain. Burning sensation at my fingertips. Yes. Fire. I see nothing but a world of fire.
I seem to have a tire iron in my hands.
Shuichi...crying. Shuichi...in a ball at the bottom of the stairs. Shuichi can do little more than take in quavering breaths. He's stunned. Nigh-catatonic with horror, he pulls on his hair while rocking back and forth.
Cruelty. Utter cruelty.
How could I not know?
The tire iron swings of it's own accord, smashing into Tohma's BMW. Glass shoots everywhere, raining down like glitter in a sadistic parade. It flies into my arms. Into my face, perhaps. I don't care if I am bleeding. I don't care how much I hurt, because I still hear Shuichi's pained sobs.
The headlights. The hood. The roof. I wish it were Tohma's body. I wish it were Yuki Eiri's. The clattering sound of metal on metal echos through the sleeping neighborhood, causing a half-dozen lights to flip on and provoking a several dogs to bark.
If I knew which car belonged to Yuki Eiri...
"You can't understand this, Ryuichi." That's what he said.
Like hell I can't.
"It's complicated." He said that, too.
I'm not -that- stupid.
"I told you not to come here. You shouldn't have come here."
No, Tohma. -You- shouldn't have come here.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In Our Next Chapter: We go back in time to find out what, exactly, set Ryuichi off. Shuichi ends up even more broken than before and might even try to end it all. Another confrontation causes accusations to fly. And Tomi's last words to Ryuichi are revealed... I hope you'll stay tuned to the glorious angst-fest which is this story!
***Author Notes:
I don't have any notes for this chapter, but if you have any questions, do let me know. Not a lot important happens in this chapter, except at the end. Just a smidgen more character development, I suppose.
I will only give you one hint. It is, indeed, complicated...just like Tohma says.
***Review Notes:
Thank you very much for your nice reviews. They make me so happy. They are like little happy bon-bons which make writing all the sweeter. Oh good lord, I'm thinking in candy metaphors like Ryuichi now. Yikes.
So, extra special strawberry-flavored-pocky thanks to: Bloaty Kitsune, anon, Burned Vamp, Aibyouka, pinksakuya, and Lasaire
Yma: Thanks for your extensive review. :D :D Yeah, I wasn't too keen on the speed of the "relationship development", but since the story focuses on Shuichi and Ryuichi, I didn't want to spend -too- much time on it. Blar. Maybe I will tweak it a bit in edit.
Ranger: Maybe angst/romance, you think? Categories are so hard. I don't really know if this counts as "drama" or not. I guess it does. Hrm.
hidesfaerie: Thanks for the pocky and plushes. Teehee.
Catastrophe: Glad you are enjoying the story!
riversprite77: Happy ending? Maybe...maybe a bit of happy -and- sad?
xpyne: Good questions, all. I hope some of them will be answered in the next chapter. :D
natsu-chan: Yeah, but who would Shuichi -not- be cute with? Chuckle. Such a cutie, that one.
Wakaba-sama: Soul hurt? Oh geez, I hope not. There's a bit of humor in this chapter, so maybe it isn't as bad?
Veleda: Sleep is calling me, too. I think these are the shortest review answers I've written in a long time.