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Chapter 6: Down The Rabbit Hole
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"How is he?"
Blue. The skies were blue that day we had the picnic, weren't they, Tomi? God, I'd never seen that kind of blue before. It was unnatural. It's completely unnatural to be so happy. I should have known it. I should have known all along.
"Not good. He lost a lot of blood. He shouldn't... He shouldn't even be alive."
I should have known that I didn't deserve you, Tomi. It must be my fault. It must all somehow be my fault. I've been bad, that must be it. I must have done something wrong. Did I do something wrong, Tomi? Is that why you got sick?
"That idiot." Footsteps on tile echo into nothingness. "Come on, Tohma-kun. Let's go. You've already been here too long. Mika is worried."
A thump reverberates in air. "I don't get it. Tomi was just an ordinary guy. There wasn't anything special about him at all."
I wish we could go back to that picnic in the forest. Remember? We made a kite, but we never flew it. We just spent the whole time wrapped up in those blankets, watching the clouds make love to the sky as we mimicked them on the earth below. You wouldn't forget the picnic, would you, Tomi?
"Maybe..." Quietly, quietly, the voice comes. Like butterflies, pianissimo butterflies. "Maybe Tomi didn't deserve Ryuichi. But, how can anyone turn away when offered love so sweet and good? Men have made pacts with the devil for less."
A choked laugh. "But not you, hm?"
"No. Love is a disease, and I'm fortunately immune."
"Eiri-kun..."
You wouldn't forget, would you Tomi? Don't forget me. Please don't forget me. I'm trying my hardest to get to where you are, so please wait. Wait just a little bit longer.
Wait for me, Tomi.
Please.
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"No wonder your fans go crazy for you. You're quite sexy when you're angry, Ryuichi."
Kumagoro squeaks something almost inaudible. Oh crap. Sorry Kuma-chan. I pry my fingers apart and let Kumagoro catch his breath on my lap. He's cursing at me, Kumagoro is. Not even home for five minutes, and already I'm trying to get him killed.
"Say whatever it is you've come here to say," I manage between grit teeth, "Then leave."
I am immobile and strong. I am like a tank. Nothing you say will hurt me, Tohma. I will not let you hurt me, and I definitely will not let you hurt Shuichi. You are so far below me right now, that I might mistake you for a cockroach and accidentally step on you.
Tohma smirks, and slowly, as if he's planning on staying a while, takes off his hat and jacket. Underneath, he's got one of his patent vests on over a bright yellow shirt. Strange style, I suppose, but it suits him. Wait. Yellow is one of Shuichi's colors. That better not be...
No, Shuichi wouldn't wear a shirt that dressy.
Or would he?
While I am pondering whether Tohma has decided to steal Shuichi's -clothes- on top of everything else, my ex-friend swiftly lays his things over the arm of a nearby chair and sits down next to me on the couch.
Ick. I scoot away from him without even thinking, curling my knees up to my chest as I press myself into the side of the couch. I stare into the light of the lamp on the nearby table, trying not to look at him. I don't want to look at him, because if I do, I might start to trust him.
"Ryuichi, come on, it's just me. Aren't we friends? Haven't we been friends for a long time? Weren't we always together through the best and worst times, ever since we met? Wasn't I there for you when Tomi died? Didn't you stand next to me when I got married? And now you're afraid to even sit on the same couch as me? I'm not really as bad as -that- in your eyes, am I?"
"I don't trust you anymore, Tohma. I don't think that you are the person I thought you were."
Behind me, Tohma's releases a short, exasperated sigh, "Your loyalty to me is staggering, Ryuichi, just staggering. Of all people, I thought you'd be the last to turn against me." I hear Tohma rooting around, and then a short metallic "flick" noise. "You and Shuichi are such trouble. You both just don't give a damn who you hurt."
"And you do?" I flop over in my seat, turning to look at Tohma, and give him my very best death glare. The two-inch blade in his right hand makes me eyes widen for a moment, until I realize it is just his nail file. Tohma's meticulous about his nails. I'd always thought it was one of his more endearing habits, but now I figure he just wants to keep them sharp enough to claw out my heart in one clean swipe.
"Hurt people? Ryuichi, who was there for you after Tomi died? Wasn't I the one who pulled you out of that bathtub? Didn't I take you to the hospital? Who sat by your side the entire time? Who came to visit you when you were in detox? I've been taking care of you for years, Ryuichi. Years. Because you are my -best- friend, and friends are supposed to -be- there for each other. I'm hurt, Ryuichi. I'm hurt by the way you are treating me."
"Guess it's a mutual kind of hurting," I reply, pushing my face into the back of Kumagoro's head. I would very much like to crawl into a dark hole right now, a deep dark rabbit hole where I could hide for about a zillion years until I figure this all out, or it goes away, whichever comes first. Tohma's right. I do owe him my life. I'm such a shit. If I were a good friend, I would have... I should be able to...do...something. No. No. Think of Shuichi. Think of Shuichi. Unforgivable. Completely unforgivable. "You have Yuki Eiri. You don't need me."
"What about the band, Ryuichi? Can you live without singing?"
"I hate to tell you this, Tohma, but I can sing perfectly fine without you."
"That's cruel, Ryu," Tohma says, shaking his head. He looks down at his fingers and starts filing away, quickly moving the metal back and forth, eliciting a grating noise that sends a shiver down my spine. "I hate it when you get this way. I don't blame you, though. I blame Tomi. You were never mean spirited until..."
"Stop. Talking. About. Tomi."
The incessant fingernail-filing stops for a moment, as Tohma squints at me, his lips pursed. I'm half afraid that he's going to jump me and start punching me in the face repeatedly. I don't know why I would think that. Tohma's never hit me before. "No, Ryuichi, no. Let's -start- talking about Tomi. Because, that's what this is really all about, isn't it? Do you even -understand- what happened to you? We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to be worried. But, you were -dead-, Ryuichi. Do you understand that? For three and a half minutes, you were -dead-. Do you know why we didn't let you look at a mirror for two months? Why they kept you under sedation for most of that time? You have NO IDEA how close you came to death. You have no idea what you put me through. And now, with this boy, with Shuichi, I see the same events unfolding..."
"This isn't about me and Shuichi! Quit twisting things around!" Restrain me, Kumagoro. Hold me back. Because if you don't, bad things are going to happen. "This is about you and Yuki Eiri! Does Mika-san know what's going on? How about I call her and tell her..."
"My wife is aware of the situation. She's been highly encouraging."
My jaw drops. No. Not Mika-san, too. Is the whole world insane? That must be it. When I am the sanest person in this conundrum, something is -broken-. "What is -wrong- with you, Tohma? Are you on drugs?"
"I'm not the one who self-medicates, Ryuichi. That's your dominion." Tohma flounces his blonde hair as he returns to filing his nails, obviously proud of himself for the dig. "I wonder. Are you teaching that to Shuichi, too? I mean, if you're trying to mold him and shape him into the perfect reflection of yourself, I'd assume you're teaching him all your best forms of escapism. Or, did you skip the pills and booze and go straight for the sex?"
"Tohma...I'm warning you..."
"Hm? How about it, Ryu, does that boy make you moan loud enough that you forget Tomi's face? Or, do you just close your eyes pretend Shuichi's writhing body belongs to your dead lover?"
I...I can't help it. My brain just shuts down. My vision goes completely red, like looking through one side of a pair of old-time 3D glasses. All I see is Tohma recoiling as my hand connects with his face. I don't even feel it.
I slap him.
I didn't mean to, really. Kumagoro, you know that I didn't mean to, right?
Oh, god, Tohma, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Why do I have to hurt everyone all the time? I don't want to be like that, I really don't. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
Tohma rubs his cheek gingerly with the back of his right hand. His other one curls around the file, fisting the metal object almost painfully. Without moving, Tohma's eyes liquidly shift from peering at his lap to staring at me. Those orbs of blue-green cruelty immediately soften, the anger melting into concern. Is he sincere? I can't tell. I've never had to worry about trying to read Tohma before. I've always just trusted him.
"It's alright, Ryuichi, I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, see?" Tohma tilts his cheek towards me a bit. A red mark is rapidly blossoming right below his eye.
What if I was wearing my rings? What if I was holding something? I could have hurt him. I could have really hurt him.
I wanted to...hurt him.
"Hey," I feel a warmth on my knee. Tohma's hand. "Hey, it's okay. Don't cry. I deserved that one. You didn't do anything wrong, Ryuichi." I'm tempted to move my knee away from his hand, but before I do, the warmth is gone. Such forgiveness, and such worry in Tohma's expression. I don't think I've ever seen it before. "I know you, Ryu. I know how much passion resides in your soul. How you want to love the entire world, and how much it pains you to see the people you love hurt. You can't help it, you can't help being you. But, don't you see, Ryuichi, I've accepted you for who you are. I'm going to be the one who always forgives you, because I'm strong enough to take you, good or bad, happy or angry. Shuichi is not like that. He's young, and fickle. Do you think he'll forgive you and accept you like I can?"
I really don't feel good. I have to keep my jaw clenched to just to keep my teeth from chattering. It suddenly seems so cold in here, like that time Kuma-chan and I got stuck in Hokkaido without a coat. I wrap my arms around myself, hugging Kumagoro to my chest. Where is the warmth? Someone stuck a straw in my eye-sockets and sucked it all out, I think, because my eyes are the only part of me which doesn't feel frozen..
"Why did this all have to happen, Tohma? Why can't things just stay...stay the same? Why do people have to hurt each other?"
"Situations change," he replies, staring into space, "Things happen, Ryuichi. You should know better than anyone else. Sometimes there isn't anything you can do."
"You're wrong. There's always something you can do. If you try hard enough, there's always...always...some way to fix things. You can always fix things if you have enough love. If you love things enough, you can..."
"That's enough, Ryuichi." Tohma stands up and walks across the room. With his back to me, he continues, "That's enough. There was no way you could have saved Tomi and..." A beleaguered sigh rips the air, full of such torment that I flinch, "It's better for Eiri-kun this way. And for Shuichi, too."
"But, you don't know what this is doing to Shuichi!"
"Frankly, I can't say I really care. He'll survive."
"Tohma!" Now, I am standing, too. Though, my knees feel so weak that I keep one hand on the arm of the couch, just to stay perpendicular. "Stop all this. Please. I'm begging you. You're right, and I'm wrong. You're right that it's too complicated, and I'm stupid and I shouldn't have gotten involved. You're right, just like always. Whatever you want. Whatever you want me to say, I'll say it. I just...I can't take this. Please make it all stop. Please, Tohma. Make it stop."
"I can't. I'm sorry, Ryuichi."
"Can't or won't?"
"Yes. I suppose that's true. I won't." Tohma turns on his heel and heads towards the chair where his hat and jacket are laying. "I've had my lawyers put a restraining order on both you and Shuichi. Neither of you are to come within 100 meters of Yuki Eiri. Eiri-kun agrees with this, and has signed the papers, as well."
"You didn't! You wouldn't!"
Tohma shakes his head a bit, refusing to look at me as he picks up his jacket and slides his arms into the sleeves. "Bad Luck's contract has a transfer clause. In two months, they'll be moved to our new American studio in Los Angeles. It's a big opportunity for them..."
"Bullshit, Tohma, you just want..."
"You can tell Shindou-san that there will be no more phone calls from Eiri-kun. I've put a stop to that, too." Tohma places his hat atop his nest of blonde hair and turns to look at me. His eyes are like steel, like the very same shiny knife I used to slit my own wrists all those years ago. "As for you, Ryuichi, you can come and tear up the Nittle Grasper contract with your own hands, if you want. It's in my office, in the top drawer of my desk. I won't stop you. But, know this...if you do destroy that paper, I'm going to consider it the end of our friendship."
"With friends like you, Seguchi-san, who really needs enemies?" My head practically rips off my neck as I turn to look at the owner of that voice. So sonorous, yet edged with razor blades. Just like a vodka screwdriver, barely smooth enough to cover the acrid alcohol. That voice...
I think my heart has stopped.
Shuichi.
How long has he been standing there?
Shuichi leans against the doorframe leading to the hallway. For once, he doesn't look frail, or scared, or sad. He just looks pissed. His nails dig into the wood of the sconces, and I know he's trying his best to restrain himself from leaping across the room and attempting to slam Tohma's head into the wall. This makes me quite glad that I'm sitting, relatively, between the two, just in case Kumagoro and I have to stop Shuichi.
I don't think I've ever seen Shuichi mad before.
Hm. I wonder if that's what I look like when I get angry.
"Leave my friend alone, you fucking home-wrecker. You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as someone as kind and giving as Ryuichi. I don't know what you did to Yuki, but I sure as hell am not going to let you get to Ryuichi, too. And I...I...Is that my shirt?"
Huh?
Shuichi raises one accusing finger and points at Tohma. "You're wearing my shirt. My favorite shirt."
Tohma looks down at the bright yellow peeking out from underneath his jacket and vest. "You're mistaken, Shindou-san. This shirt had the tags still on it when I put it on this morning."
"That's my favorite shirt!" Uh oh. "That's the shirt Yuki gave me!" I'm running across the room at top speed, Kumagoro behind me due to the fact that his legs are shorter. "I WAS WAITING FOR A SPECIAL OCCASION TO WEAR IT!"
I don't know how, but I keep Shuichi from advancing. By this time, due to Shuichi's yelling, Ten has appeared in the doorway. With one massive push, I send Shuichi reeling backward into my bodyguard's grasp.
I really don't need Shuichi to go to jail for assault.
Ten drags Shuichi, who continues to yell some rather un-Shuichi-like things, back down the hallway while I try to catch my breath.
We need a vacation, Kumagoro. We need a vacation from emotion.
Finally, I turn around. Tohma remains motionless, like one third of those life-sized cardboard Nittle Grasper stand-ups fans buy to keep in their bedrooms.
"Please leave, Tohma."
"Yeah," he replies, heading for the door. "You know, you constantly surprise me, Ryuichi. That's what I've always liked best about you." He grabs the doorknob, but before he leaves, he looks back over his shoulder one more time. And then, just then, he's not my enemy, or someone who is trying to destroy my life, or Shuichi's life. For just a second, he's just Tohma. The same one I've always trusted. Trusted with my life. "Try not to get into any more fights with cars, okay? And take care of the cuts on your arm. I know how you forget to look after yourself."
Then, Tohma is gone.
After that, Kumagoro looks at me and says he needs a stiff drink.
And me?
I need about a dozen.
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I was a perfectly average little boy. In the suburbs of Yokohama, I'd spend my winters making snowmen and my summers playing in the sprinklers. The teachers said I had a learning disability, but it was mild enough that they didn't have to send me to a special school. My parents are good people, who work hard at their travel agent business, and probably would have been happy for me if I spent my entire life working at the Softy Tasty, just as happy as they are that I'm a rock star.
How, exactly, did I get from the mundane suburbs of Yokohama to the penthouse suite of the Osakaji International?
Over and over, I keep thinking "Where did I go wrong?" I feel a lot like Kuma-chan's cousin 'Bugs Bunny'. I must have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque, and not have even noticed.
And I just can't think of anything that I could have done differently. So, the only thing I can come up with is...
I'm not living my own life. Someone else was supposed to be Sakuma Ryuichi.
When they were handing out souls, I stole someone's place in line. And I'm being punished for it.
Kuma-chan, what are we going to do?
I rest my head against something. I think it is a boot, as it smells of thick leather and dirt. Too dark to tell, really. It doesn't make a good pillow, so I adjust my head until my cheek is against the ground. I need to get further down. I need to go down into a hole.
A rabbit hole, don't you think, Kumagoro? I can't tell. Are we already through the looking glass? Or are we back on the other side? Which is the real world, and which is the fake one?
As long as we stay in the dark, in here in the closet, we don't have to figure it out. Just pretend the world is disappearing, Kumagoro. We'll go back to the beginning, to the place where they handed out souls. I'll give mine back and apologize.
I want to start again.
Kumagoro reaches up and pulls several shirts off of their hangers, letting them fall on top of us, until we're covered in a pile of designer cloth. It has to be darker. It has to be dark enough...that I disappear.
"Back to the beginning, start again, do over..."
Kuma-chan rubs his face into my neck and picks up the tune of Tomi's stupid "do over" song. He'd always sing it when we got drunk and silly while playing board games, because we were always knocking the pieces out of place. "When you mess up the game, do over, do over. These things happen, do over, do over...."
Laying in the closet, blanketed in my own dry cleaning, I sing with Kumagoro. Songs will never leave me. And Kumagoro would never leave me, not on purpose. But humans...
Humans always go.
Suddenly, light hits me, shattered into a rainbow of hues through the delicate fabrics swathing my face. Blue is for sky and for Tomi's eyes. Pink is for Shuichi and strawberry Pocky and Kumagoro. Green is for picnics and for...
Vegetables? Ick. No wonder I don't like green.
Through the cloth, I can see the silhouette of a small person in the doorway. Quietly, he steps inside and pulls the door closed. In such a confined space, there's nowhere else for Shuichi's scent to go. Laced with the leather of my boots, and the deodorizer that Molly uses on the carpet, the perfume of Shuichi's essence tickles my nose. It's delicately soapy, but with traces of burning sandalwood and white chocolate. I've been to elite confectionery boutiques that don't smell this exotic. The overwhelming power of it makes me swallow hard in an attempt to keep from whimpering.
It strikes me that even Tomi never smelled this good. Or did he? I try to remember. What was it? Oranges and old books. Is that right?
I don't remember.
"Hey," Shuichi's voice says in the darkness, "You alright?"
"Yeah." I reach up to pull the fabric off my face. It drags across my skin, leaving tingly trails where numbness had begun to take root. As I push it off to the side, I can tell that my hair is a mess, even without any light. Strands are pulled in wrong directions, leaving my scalp feeling almost like I've just walked through a wind tunnel.
"Tohma..." Shuichi stops himself, and there's a brief burst of breeze as he plops down on the ground next to me. "Was he mean to you?"
"I slapped him."
"That's funny. I mean, I guess I shouldn't think it is funny, but I do. He probably deserved more than that."
Funny? It's not like Shuichi to laugh at someone else's pain. It makes me sad.
Three days ago, I don't think he would have found it amusing.
I guess I don't say anything for a while, because Shuichi says, "I'm sorry. Because of me, you and your friend are fighting. I guess it is true what Yuki always says, that I'm selfish..."
"Shellfish?"
Shuichi laughs, or giggles, rather. He sounds just like a girl when he's delighted, which makes me want to squirm, because it only brings to mind how, very definitely, Shuichi is a boy.
"You can't crack jokes at a time like this, Ryu-chan!" Shuichi whines teasingly.
"You're the one who brought up the crustaceans, na no da. I mean, really, with all of our problems, do you have to drag the lobsters into it, as well? Think of the crabs. Poor things, always having to walk sideways... Do they really need our issues, too? Yes, let's definitely leave the crabs out of it."
"Yeah, but crabs have shells, at least." I can just very barely make out his form, sitting slouched in the middle of the closet, only a foot or two from where I am laying. A thin line of light from where the door isn't all the way seated in the frame cuts diagonally across the tiny room, ending in the pinkness of Shuichi's hair. Like a shiny pink dot in the abyss. The last sparkle before light gives way to oblivion.
"Do you think there are crabs in here, Kumagoro?," Shuichi asks my plush friend. "I bet...there are!"
Something bites me just below my ribcage, HARD! Yelping, I roll to the side, away from the offending creature. Owie! In the disorienting blackness, it takes me a few seconds to realize what happened.
Shuichi pinched me!
He's tittering so hard I can feel the vibrations through the floor. In between little hiccoughs of laughter, he manages to exclaim "Crab attack!"
After that, I become the victim of a beach adventure gone wrong. Relentlessly, Shuichi attacks me with his makeshift pincers, as Kumagoro and I thrash and try to get away. Except, we don't really want to get away, because we're laughing so hard, and it's fun, na no da. My lungs fill up with so much air that the oxygen goes to my brain, making me giddy beyond belief.
"Ow ow ow! Save me, Kuma...OW! Shuuuuu....ow!"
"This is what you get for making jokes!"
Kumagoro tries to attack back, but unfortunately, his paws don't readily become effective crab claws.
So, what do I do?
Well, of course, I do the stupidest thing possible.
Shuichi has me cornered, up against the wall. I'm in a half-crouched position, my left foot underneath me. I push forward rapidly, blindly grabbing at Shu's shoulder, my head barreling into his chest. This takes Shuichi by surprise, and causes him to topple over backwards, his arms flying out to catch ahold of whatever he can to prevent his fall. Unfortunately, the only thing he gets is a pair of pants which slides easily off the hanger.
This leaves me...
Falling forward...
Onto Shuichi.
I have him pinned to the floor underneath me, and the only thing which keeps me from feeling the full expanse of his chest is that fact that, somehow, Kumagoro's become trapped between us. I feel hip bones against my knees as I loom over him, suddenly very aware of the compromising situation I've put myself in.
After a second, Shuichi continues to try to poke, pinch, and tickle me, continuing the game apparently unaware that I'm not laughing anymore. He wiggles beneath me, trying to find my most sensitive spots, fervently attempting to get me to react. His body brushes against mine, over and over, criminally tempting me to...do...things...I shouldn't.
And then the thought hits me, terrifying and titillating me at the same time.
Ravish him.
Ravish him now. Take him now. Here in the dark, where I can't see his doubt, where I can ignore his tears, where we can pretend we're in a different world, a different time. He'll let me, I know it. He wants to forget the pain as much as I do. I'll give Shuichi something pretty, something trembling and exquisite. Like a note, a note that pierces the air and goes on and on, defying logic, shattering all music.
What does it matter that when the time comes...we'll both be screaming someone else's name?
I'm so vile. I disgust myself.
Why does Tohma have to be right about -this-?
With a clumsy motion, I slide my hands down Shuichi's arms and catch his wrists. Shuichi seems confused, and lifts his head off the ground a bit, bumping his mop of hair into my chin.
"Stop, Shuichi. Please stop that."
My voice sounds scary, even to me.
"Huh? Um. Okay..." I release Shuichi's birdlike wrists and allow him freedom of movement once again. "Sorry, did I pinch too hard?"
Now is the time for a well-placed lie. "Yeah."
As if. Shuichi could probably rake his fingernails down my back and tear my skin into deep furrows of blood and gore, and I'd enjoy it.
"Ack! I'm so sorry, Ryu-chan! I get carried away with playing sometimes. I was just trying to, you know, cheer you up."
"It's okay, na no da!" The way I say it, it sounds so natural, like I'm not as tormented as a penniless kid in a candy shop. Gathering my mental strength, I push myself off of Shuichi and end up laying beside him. Our shoulders touch as we both stare at a ceiling we can not see. "Hey Shu," I say, turning to try to make out his face. "Are you...okay? I mean, about seeing Tohma?"
"Yeah. I guess I am now. I think I punched Ten-san, though."
"He probably didn't notice, na no da. He was a stunt man when he was younger, I think. Jumping off buildings and stuff. A Shu-chan punch to Ten was probably like a Shu-chan crab attack to me."
"He's a nice guy," Shuichi says, his voice thoughtful and mildly distant. "Kinda weird, but nice. It's great that you have people that care about you so much."
"Ah, don't think like that, Shu. Hiroshi-kun cares, and K, and probably even that Fujisaki kid, even if he does complain a lot." I bite my bottom lip a bit, hesitating. I feel just like I did during the seconds in front of the Softy Tasty, before I asked Tomi back to my place. Heart beating rapidly, mouth dry. Ten years younger and infinitely uncertain. "Kumagoro cares. And Ryu...I...I care."
A feather-light stroke in the center of my palm causes my hand to twitch reflexively. Shuichi's fingers slip between mine. They're the perfect temperature, not hot, not cold. As mild as pool water that's been sitting out in a summer day. Although I expect him just to give my hand a squeeze and then pull away, he doesn't. Instead, he seems unable to be still, running his thumb down my own, sweeping across the thick pad of my palm, grazing his fingernail against the delicate skin of my wrist.
I suddenly get the idea that Shuichi has to touch things, has to explore them with his hands, to make sure that they are real. Maybe this is what makes him such a good hugger. He's hugging you to let you know that he is real, and to reassure himself that you're really there, too.
Shuichi continues to play with my hand, sliding our fingers apart and then back together again, etching ghost-words into my flesh with his fingertip, tickling the sensitive U-shaped divot between my pinky and ringfinger. It drives me crazy, this veil of innocence over a pool of lust, this gnawing need that just won't give up hope.
I didn't know, until now, that people could make love to each other just by holding hands.
Did you, Kumagoro?
I thought I knew everything about physical pleasure. It comes with the 'Troubled Rock-star Handbook'. Apparently I was...
...Oh god Shuichi, that feels nice...
I was wrong.
"Why the closet?"
Huh?
"Why'd you come hide in the closet?"
Why -did- I come in here, in the first place? "I don't remember, na no da. Must have been Kumagoro's idea. He thinks this is his room."
Shuichi makes a lilting "Hm" sound in the back of his throat, and says, "Sometimes I used to sleep in Yuki's closet, when he'd go on book signing tours. He'd tell me not to use his bed so..."
"And it smelled like him. In the closet."
"Yeah."
I'm so close to him now, I'm sure that Shuichi can feel my breath on his chin. "It was a pretty shirt. Birthday present?"
"Anniversary."
"Oh." What sort of stick-in-the-mud gets his lover something as unromantic as a shirt for their anniversary? And what sort of COMPLETE ASSHOLE then turns around and gives that shirt to his -new- lover? Ugh. Mean thoughts, Ryu, mean. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I've decided not to. Yuki's obviously made...a choice...and I'm not it."
The mention of Yuki Eiri breaks me from my fantasy world, reminding me of Tohma's visit. It's probably going to kill me, but I have to tell him about what Tohma said. "Shuichi, about Yuki-san... Tohma said that... There's this restrainy legal thing that I don't understand and also about the phone calls..."
-Now- Shuichi squeezes my hand. He's really got a good grip, and I'm glad. I'm glad he's holding me in place so I don't fall away into bits. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. Molly-san already explained everything, about the restraining order, the phone calls, and about Bad Luck's contract being transferred to America."
"I don't like it, Shu, but I don't know what we can do."
Shuichi sighs and turns over on his side. I can see his eyes, glinting faintly in the wan light, only inches from my own. "Sing with me?"
"Hmm?"
"Sing with me, a bit? Here in the closet? Because...because I want to feel normal. Singing makes me feel normal."
I nod in the darkness, trying to think of a decent song that isn't too sad or wasn't written by or for Yuki Eiri. But, before I come up with one, Shuichi starts with a single word:
"Sayonara..."
It's Gackt's song of the same title, off of his "Rebirth" album. It's a pretty good CD, altogether, one of my favorites.
But, it's so...
Sad.
"Sayonara..." I repeat, my voice edged and cutting in contrast to the wispy clouds of sound that dance from Shuichi's lips, "Sayonara, dear person whom I loved. Fallen tears turn to snow..."
"Sayonara...I, who cried until yesterday. I quietly close my eyes," Shuichi adds, his notes tearing at my heart.
"Nonchalantly extending my shoulder, I leaned towards the window, with a slightly embarrassed manner, I smiled. I was always watching...you, who gently kissed my cheek, and walked away."
I expect Shuichi to pick up the next verse, but he doesn't. Instead, he whispers timidly, "Will you stay next to me again tonight?"
What am I supposed to say?
I don't want to, but only because I really, really want to?
Further down the rabbit hole, digging my own destruction, sliding towards the Wonderland I crave, the Wonderland that will turn on me in the end, I go. Following the white rabbit, or in this case pink and blue, chasing after him, barely glimpsing his back before he runs away again. The Queen of Hearts, she is so cruel. Why must she always destroy everything in her path?
So I smile, hiding the truth as aptly as the Cheshire Cat.
"Yes. As long as you want, Shuichi. As long as you want."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In The Next Chapters: A dark alley, Yuki Eiri, a baseball bat aimed at Ryuichi's head. Retribution. Shuichi's smile. The end of friendships. An odd encounter blossoms into both hope and sadness. The things we can not change...and the things which end up changing us.
***Author Notes:
Not much to say about this chapter. I only got about halfway through the plot aspects I was hoping to. So, I have to revise my projected chapter estimation. 2 more? 3 more?
Some people commented on Ryuichi not acting as "crazy" as he did in the first few chapters. No, I don't think he would. Not only is Shuichi helping him keep focused, but I think many of the layers of just -oddness- that Ryuichi has built up through the years are falling away, by necessity, in order to help him interact with the situation.
***Review Notes:
Lots of reviews for the last chapter! I hope you don't mind, but it is very late, so I am going to try and post this tonight without the review replies. I'll update the chapter again tomorrow with them. Immense apologies. As always, I appreciate all your comments ever-so-much, and look forward to hearing what you think about the story. :D
Chapter 6: Down The Rabbit Hole
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"How is he?"
Blue. The skies were blue that day we had the picnic, weren't they, Tomi? God, I'd never seen that kind of blue before. It was unnatural. It's completely unnatural to be so happy. I should have known it. I should have known all along.
"Not good. He lost a lot of blood. He shouldn't... He shouldn't even be alive."
I should have known that I didn't deserve you, Tomi. It must be my fault. It must all somehow be my fault. I've been bad, that must be it. I must have done something wrong. Did I do something wrong, Tomi? Is that why you got sick?
"That idiot." Footsteps on tile echo into nothingness. "Come on, Tohma-kun. Let's go. You've already been here too long. Mika is worried."
A thump reverberates in air. "I don't get it. Tomi was just an ordinary guy. There wasn't anything special about him at all."
I wish we could go back to that picnic in the forest. Remember? We made a kite, but we never flew it. We just spent the whole time wrapped up in those blankets, watching the clouds make love to the sky as we mimicked them on the earth below. You wouldn't forget the picnic, would you, Tomi?
"Maybe..." Quietly, quietly, the voice comes. Like butterflies, pianissimo butterflies. "Maybe Tomi didn't deserve Ryuichi. But, how can anyone turn away when offered love so sweet and good? Men have made pacts with the devil for less."
A choked laugh. "But not you, hm?"
"No. Love is a disease, and I'm fortunately immune."
"Eiri-kun..."
You wouldn't forget, would you Tomi? Don't forget me. Please don't forget me. I'm trying my hardest to get to where you are, so please wait. Wait just a little bit longer.
Wait for me, Tomi.
Please.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"No wonder your fans go crazy for you. You're quite sexy when you're angry, Ryuichi."
Kumagoro squeaks something almost inaudible. Oh crap. Sorry Kuma-chan. I pry my fingers apart and let Kumagoro catch his breath on my lap. He's cursing at me, Kumagoro is. Not even home for five minutes, and already I'm trying to get him killed.
"Say whatever it is you've come here to say," I manage between grit teeth, "Then leave."
I am immobile and strong. I am like a tank. Nothing you say will hurt me, Tohma. I will not let you hurt me, and I definitely will not let you hurt Shuichi. You are so far below me right now, that I might mistake you for a cockroach and accidentally step on you.
Tohma smirks, and slowly, as if he's planning on staying a while, takes off his hat and jacket. Underneath, he's got one of his patent vests on over a bright yellow shirt. Strange style, I suppose, but it suits him. Wait. Yellow is one of Shuichi's colors. That better not be...
No, Shuichi wouldn't wear a shirt that dressy.
Or would he?
While I am pondering whether Tohma has decided to steal Shuichi's -clothes- on top of everything else, my ex-friend swiftly lays his things over the arm of a nearby chair and sits down next to me on the couch.
Ick. I scoot away from him without even thinking, curling my knees up to my chest as I press myself into the side of the couch. I stare into the light of the lamp on the nearby table, trying not to look at him. I don't want to look at him, because if I do, I might start to trust him.
"Ryuichi, come on, it's just me. Aren't we friends? Haven't we been friends for a long time? Weren't we always together through the best and worst times, ever since we met? Wasn't I there for you when Tomi died? Didn't you stand next to me when I got married? And now you're afraid to even sit on the same couch as me? I'm not really as bad as -that- in your eyes, am I?"
"I don't trust you anymore, Tohma. I don't think that you are the person I thought you were."
Behind me, Tohma's releases a short, exasperated sigh, "Your loyalty to me is staggering, Ryuichi, just staggering. Of all people, I thought you'd be the last to turn against me." I hear Tohma rooting around, and then a short metallic "flick" noise. "You and Shuichi are such trouble. You both just don't give a damn who you hurt."
"And you do?" I flop over in my seat, turning to look at Tohma, and give him my very best death glare. The two-inch blade in his right hand makes me eyes widen for a moment, until I realize it is just his nail file. Tohma's meticulous about his nails. I'd always thought it was one of his more endearing habits, but now I figure he just wants to keep them sharp enough to claw out my heart in one clean swipe.
"Hurt people? Ryuichi, who was there for you after Tomi died? Wasn't I the one who pulled you out of that bathtub? Didn't I take you to the hospital? Who sat by your side the entire time? Who came to visit you when you were in detox? I've been taking care of you for years, Ryuichi. Years. Because you are my -best- friend, and friends are supposed to -be- there for each other. I'm hurt, Ryuichi. I'm hurt by the way you are treating me."
"Guess it's a mutual kind of hurting," I reply, pushing my face into the back of Kumagoro's head. I would very much like to crawl into a dark hole right now, a deep dark rabbit hole where I could hide for about a zillion years until I figure this all out, or it goes away, whichever comes first. Tohma's right. I do owe him my life. I'm such a shit. If I were a good friend, I would have... I should be able to...do...something. No. No. Think of Shuichi. Think of Shuichi. Unforgivable. Completely unforgivable. "You have Yuki Eiri. You don't need me."
"What about the band, Ryuichi? Can you live without singing?"
"I hate to tell you this, Tohma, but I can sing perfectly fine without you."
"That's cruel, Ryu," Tohma says, shaking his head. He looks down at his fingers and starts filing away, quickly moving the metal back and forth, eliciting a grating noise that sends a shiver down my spine. "I hate it when you get this way. I don't blame you, though. I blame Tomi. You were never mean spirited until..."
"Stop. Talking. About. Tomi."
The incessant fingernail-filing stops for a moment, as Tohma squints at me, his lips pursed. I'm half afraid that he's going to jump me and start punching me in the face repeatedly. I don't know why I would think that. Tohma's never hit me before. "No, Ryuichi, no. Let's -start- talking about Tomi. Because, that's what this is really all about, isn't it? Do you even -understand- what happened to you? We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to be worried. But, you were -dead-, Ryuichi. Do you understand that? For three and a half minutes, you were -dead-. Do you know why we didn't let you look at a mirror for two months? Why they kept you under sedation for most of that time? You have NO IDEA how close you came to death. You have no idea what you put me through. And now, with this boy, with Shuichi, I see the same events unfolding..."
"This isn't about me and Shuichi! Quit twisting things around!" Restrain me, Kumagoro. Hold me back. Because if you don't, bad things are going to happen. "This is about you and Yuki Eiri! Does Mika-san know what's going on? How about I call her and tell her..."
"My wife is aware of the situation. She's been highly encouraging."
My jaw drops. No. Not Mika-san, too. Is the whole world insane? That must be it. When I am the sanest person in this conundrum, something is -broken-. "What is -wrong- with you, Tohma? Are you on drugs?"
"I'm not the one who self-medicates, Ryuichi. That's your dominion." Tohma flounces his blonde hair as he returns to filing his nails, obviously proud of himself for the dig. "I wonder. Are you teaching that to Shuichi, too? I mean, if you're trying to mold him and shape him into the perfect reflection of yourself, I'd assume you're teaching him all your best forms of escapism. Or, did you skip the pills and booze and go straight for the sex?"
"Tohma...I'm warning you..."
"Hm? How about it, Ryu, does that boy make you moan loud enough that you forget Tomi's face? Or, do you just close your eyes pretend Shuichi's writhing body belongs to your dead lover?"
I...I can't help it. My brain just shuts down. My vision goes completely red, like looking through one side of a pair of old-time 3D glasses. All I see is Tohma recoiling as my hand connects with his face. I don't even feel it.
I slap him.
I didn't mean to, really. Kumagoro, you know that I didn't mean to, right?
Oh, god, Tohma, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Why do I have to hurt everyone all the time? I don't want to be like that, I really don't. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
Tohma rubs his cheek gingerly with the back of his right hand. His other one curls around the file, fisting the metal object almost painfully. Without moving, Tohma's eyes liquidly shift from peering at his lap to staring at me. Those orbs of blue-green cruelty immediately soften, the anger melting into concern. Is he sincere? I can't tell. I've never had to worry about trying to read Tohma before. I've always just trusted him.
"It's alright, Ryuichi, I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, see?" Tohma tilts his cheek towards me a bit. A red mark is rapidly blossoming right below his eye.
What if I was wearing my rings? What if I was holding something? I could have hurt him. I could have really hurt him.
I wanted to...hurt him.
"Hey," I feel a warmth on my knee. Tohma's hand. "Hey, it's okay. Don't cry. I deserved that one. You didn't do anything wrong, Ryuichi." I'm tempted to move my knee away from his hand, but before I do, the warmth is gone. Such forgiveness, and such worry in Tohma's expression. I don't think I've ever seen it before. "I know you, Ryu. I know how much passion resides in your soul. How you want to love the entire world, and how much it pains you to see the people you love hurt. You can't help it, you can't help being you. But, don't you see, Ryuichi, I've accepted you for who you are. I'm going to be the one who always forgives you, because I'm strong enough to take you, good or bad, happy or angry. Shuichi is not like that. He's young, and fickle. Do you think he'll forgive you and accept you like I can?"
I really don't feel good. I have to keep my jaw clenched to just to keep my teeth from chattering. It suddenly seems so cold in here, like that time Kuma-chan and I got stuck in Hokkaido without a coat. I wrap my arms around myself, hugging Kumagoro to my chest. Where is the warmth? Someone stuck a straw in my eye-sockets and sucked it all out, I think, because my eyes are the only part of me which doesn't feel frozen..
"Why did this all have to happen, Tohma? Why can't things just stay...stay the same? Why do people have to hurt each other?"
"Situations change," he replies, staring into space, "Things happen, Ryuichi. You should know better than anyone else. Sometimes there isn't anything you can do."
"You're wrong. There's always something you can do. If you try hard enough, there's always...always...some way to fix things. You can always fix things if you have enough love. If you love things enough, you can..."
"That's enough, Ryuichi." Tohma stands up and walks across the room. With his back to me, he continues, "That's enough. There was no way you could have saved Tomi and..." A beleaguered sigh rips the air, full of such torment that I flinch, "It's better for Eiri-kun this way. And for Shuichi, too."
"But, you don't know what this is doing to Shuichi!"
"Frankly, I can't say I really care. He'll survive."
"Tohma!" Now, I am standing, too. Though, my knees feel so weak that I keep one hand on the arm of the couch, just to stay perpendicular. "Stop all this. Please. I'm begging you. You're right, and I'm wrong. You're right that it's too complicated, and I'm stupid and I shouldn't have gotten involved. You're right, just like always. Whatever you want. Whatever you want me to say, I'll say it. I just...I can't take this. Please make it all stop. Please, Tohma. Make it stop."
"I can't. I'm sorry, Ryuichi."
"Can't or won't?"
"Yes. I suppose that's true. I won't." Tohma turns on his heel and heads towards the chair where his hat and jacket are laying. "I've had my lawyers put a restraining order on both you and Shuichi. Neither of you are to come within 100 meters of Yuki Eiri. Eiri-kun agrees with this, and has signed the papers, as well."
"You didn't! You wouldn't!"
Tohma shakes his head a bit, refusing to look at me as he picks up his jacket and slides his arms into the sleeves. "Bad Luck's contract has a transfer clause. In two months, they'll be moved to our new American studio in Los Angeles. It's a big opportunity for them..."
"Bullshit, Tohma, you just want..."
"You can tell Shindou-san that there will be no more phone calls from Eiri-kun. I've put a stop to that, too." Tohma places his hat atop his nest of blonde hair and turns to look at me. His eyes are like steel, like the very same shiny knife I used to slit my own wrists all those years ago. "As for you, Ryuichi, you can come and tear up the Nittle Grasper contract with your own hands, if you want. It's in my office, in the top drawer of my desk. I won't stop you. But, know this...if you do destroy that paper, I'm going to consider it the end of our friendship."
"With friends like you, Seguchi-san, who really needs enemies?" My head practically rips off my neck as I turn to look at the owner of that voice. So sonorous, yet edged with razor blades. Just like a vodka screwdriver, barely smooth enough to cover the acrid alcohol. That voice...
I think my heart has stopped.
Shuichi.
How long has he been standing there?
Shuichi leans against the doorframe leading to the hallway. For once, he doesn't look frail, or scared, or sad. He just looks pissed. His nails dig into the wood of the sconces, and I know he's trying his best to restrain himself from leaping across the room and attempting to slam Tohma's head into the wall. This makes me quite glad that I'm sitting, relatively, between the two, just in case Kumagoro and I have to stop Shuichi.
I don't think I've ever seen Shuichi mad before.
Hm. I wonder if that's what I look like when I get angry.
"Leave my friend alone, you fucking home-wrecker. You don't even deserve to breathe the same air as someone as kind and giving as Ryuichi. I don't know what you did to Yuki, but I sure as hell am not going to let you get to Ryuichi, too. And I...I...Is that my shirt?"
Huh?
Shuichi raises one accusing finger and points at Tohma. "You're wearing my shirt. My favorite shirt."
Tohma looks down at the bright yellow peeking out from underneath his jacket and vest. "You're mistaken, Shindou-san. This shirt had the tags still on it when I put it on this morning."
"That's my favorite shirt!" Uh oh. "That's the shirt Yuki gave me!" I'm running across the room at top speed, Kumagoro behind me due to the fact that his legs are shorter. "I WAS WAITING FOR A SPECIAL OCCASION TO WEAR IT!"
I don't know how, but I keep Shuichi from advancing. By this time, due to Shuichi's yelling, Ten has appeared in the doorway. With one massive push, I send Shuichi reeling backward into my bodyguard's grasp.
I really don't need Shuichi to go to jail for assault.
Ten drags Shuichi, who continues to yell some rather un-Shuichi-like things, back down the hallway while I try to catch my breath.
We need a vacation, Kumagoro. We need a vacation from emotion.
Finally, I turn around. Tohma remains motionless, like one third of those life-sized cardboard Nittle Grasper stand-ups fans buy to keep in their bedrooms.
"Please leave, Tohma."
"Yeah," he replies, heading for the door. "You know, you constantly surprise me, Ryuichi. That's what I've always liked best about you." He grabs the doorknob, but before he leaves, he looks back over his shoulder one more time. And then, just then, he's not my enemy, or someone who is trying to destroy my life, or Shuichi's life. For just a second, he's just Tohma. The same one I've always trusted. Trusted with my life. "Try not to get into any more fights with cars, okay? And take care of the cuts on your arm. I know how you forget to look after yourself."
Then, Tohma is gone.
After that, Kumagoro looks at me and says he needs a stiff drink.
And me?
I need about a dozen.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I was a perfectly average little boy. In the suburbs of Yokohama, I'd spend my winters making snowmen and my summers playing in the sprinklers. The teachers said I had a learning disability, but it was mild enough that they didn't have to send me to a special school. My parents are good people, who work hard at their travel agent business, and probably would have been happy for me if I spent my entire life working at the Softy Tasty, just as happy as they are that I'm a rock star.
How, exactly, did I get from the mundane suburbs of Yokohama to the penthouse suite of the Osakaji International?
Over and over, I keep thinking "Where did I go wrong?" I feel a lot like Kuma-chan's cousin 'Bugs Bunny'. I must have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque, and not have even noticed.
And I just can't think of anything that I could have done differently. So, the only thing I can come up with is...
I'm not living my own life. Someone else was supposed to be Sakuma Ryuichi.
When they were handing out souls, I stole someone's place in line. And I'm being punished for it.
Kuma-chan, what are we going to do?
I rest my head against something. I think it is a boot, as it smells of thick leather and dirt. Too dark to tell, really. It doesn't make a good pillow, so I adjust my head until my cheek is against the ground. I need to get further down. I need to go down into a hole.
A rabbit hole, don't you think, Kumagoro? I can't tell. Are we already through the looking glass? Or are we back on the other side? Which is the real world, and which is the fake one?
As long as we stay in the dark, in here in the closet, we don't have to figure it out. Just pretend the world is disappearing, Kumagoro. We'll go back to the beginning, to the place where they handed out souls. I'll give mine back and apologize.
I want to start again.
Kumagoro reaches up and pulls several shirts off of their hangers, letting them fall on top of us, until we're covered in a pile of designer cloth. It has to be darker. It has to be dark enough...that I disappear.
"Back to the beginning, start again, do over..."
Kuma-chan rubs his face into my neck and picks up the tune of Tomi's stupid "do over" song. He'd always sing it when we got drunk and silly while playing board games, because we were always knocking the pieces out of place. "When you mess up the game, do over, do over. These things happen, do over, do over...."
Laying in the closet, blanketed in my own dry cleaning, I sing with Kumagoro. Songs will never leave me. And Kumagoro would never leave me, not on purpose. But humans...
Humans always go.
Suddenly, light hits me, shattered into a rainbow of hues through the delicate fabrics swathing my face. Blue is for sky and for Tomi's eyes. Pink is for Shuichi and strawberry Pocky and Kumagoro. Green is for picnics and for...
Vegetables? Ick. No wonder I don't like green.
Through the cloth, I can see the silhouette of a small person in the doorway. Quietly, he steps inside and pulls the door closed. In such a confined space, there's nowhere else for Shuichi's scent to go. Laced with the leather of my boots, and the deodorizer that Molly uses on the carpet, the perfume of Shuichi's essence tickles my nose. It's delicately soapy, but with traces of burning sandalwood and white chocolate. I've been to elite confectionery boutiques that don't smell this exotic. The overwhelming power of it makes me swallow hard in an attempt to keep from whimpering.
It strikes me that even Tomi never smelled this good. Or did he? I try to remember. What was it? Oranges and old books. Is that right?
I don't remember.
"Hey," Shuichi's voice says in the darkness, "You alright?"
"Yeah." I reach up to pull the fabric off my face. It drags across my skin, leaving tingly trails where numbness had begun to take root. As I push it off to the side, I can tell that my hair is a mess, even without any light. Strands are pulled in wrong directions, leaving my scalp feeling almost like I've just walked through a wind tunnel.
"Tohma..." Shuichi stops himself, and there's a brief burst of breeze as he plops down on the ground next to me. "Was he mean to you?"
"I slapped him."
"That's funny. I mean, I guess I shouldn't think it is funny, but I do. He probably deserved more than that."
Funny? It's not like Shuichi to laugh at someone else's pain. It makes me sad.
Three days ago, I don't think he would have found it amusing.
I guess I don't say anything for a while, because Shuichi says, "I'm sorry. Because of me, you and your friend are fighting. I guess it is true what Yuki always says, that I'm selfish..."
"Shellfish?"
Shuichi laughs, or giggles, rather. He sounds just like a girl when he's delighted, which makes me want to squirm, because it only brings to mind how, very definitely, Shuichi is a boy.
"You can't crack jokes at a time like this, Ryu-chan!" Shuichi whines teasingly.
"You're the one who brought up the crustaceans, na no da. I mean, really, with all of our problems, do you have to drag the lobsters into it, as well? Think of the crabs. Poor things, always having to walk sideways... Do they really need our issues, too? Yes, let's definitely leave the crabs out of it."
"Yeah, but crabs have shells, at least." I can just very barely make out his form, sitting slouched in the middle of the closet, only a foot or two from where I am laying. A thin line of light from where the door isn't all the way seated in the frame cuts diagonally across the tiny room, ending in the pinkness of Shuichi's hair. Like a shiny pink dot in the abyss. The last sparkle before light gives way to oblivion.
"Do you think there are crabs in here, Kumagoro?," Shuichi asks my plush friend. "I bet...there are!"
Something bites me just below my ribcage, HARD! Yelping, I roll to the side, away from the offending creature. Owie! In the disorienting blackness, it takes me a few seconds to realize what happened.
Shuichi pinched me!
He's tittering so hard I can feel the vibrations through the floor. In between little hiccoughs of laughter, he manages to exclaim "Crab attack!"
After that, I become the victim of a beach adventure gone wrong. Relentlessly, Shuichi attacks me with his makeshift pincers, as Kumagoro and I thrash and try to get away. Except, we don't really want to get away, because we're laughing so hard, and it's fun, na no da. My lungs fill up with so much air that the oxygen goes to my brain, making me giddy beyond belief.
"Ow ow ow! Save me, Kuma...OW! Shuuuuu....ow!"
"This is what you get for making jokes!"
Kumagoro tries to attack back, but unfortunately, his paws don't readily become effective crab claws.
So, what do I do?
Well, of course, I do the stupidest thing possible.
Shuichi has me cornered, up against the wall. I'm in a half-crouched position, my left foot underneath me. I push forward rapidly, blindly grabbing at Shu's shoulder, my head barreling into his chest. This takes Shuichi by surprise, and causes him to topple over backwards, his arms flying out to catch ahold of whatever he can to prevent his fall. Unfortunately, the only thing he gets is a pair of pants which slides easily off the hanger.
This leaves me...
Falling forward...
Onto Shuichi.
I have him pinned to the floor underneath me, and the only thing which keeps me from feeling the full expanse of his chest is that fact that, somehow, Kumagoro's become trapped between us. I feel hip bones against my knees as I loom over him, suddenly very aware of the compromising situation I've put myself in.
After a second, Shuichi continues to try to poke, pinch, and tickle me, continuing the game apparently unaware that I'm not laughing anymore. He wiggles beneath me, trying to find my most sensitive spots, fervently attempting to get me to react. His body brushes against mine, over and over, criminally tempting me to...do...things...I shouldn't.
And then the thought hits me, terrifying and titillating me at the same time.
Ravish him.
Ravish him now. Take him now. Here in the dark, where I can't see his doubt, where I can ignore his tears, where we can pretend we're in a different world, a different time. He'll let me, I know it. He wants to forget the pain as much as I do. I'll give Shuichi something pretty, something trembling and exquisite. Like a note, a note that pierces the air and goes on and on, defying logic, shattering all music.
What does it matter that when the time comes...we'll both be screaming someone else's name?
I'm so vile. I disgust myself.
Why does Tohma have to be right about -this-?
With a clumsy motion, I slide my hands down Shuichi's arms and catch his wrists. Shuichi seems confused, and lifts his head off the ground a bit, bumping his mop of hair into my chin.
"Stop, Shuichi. Please stop that."
My voice sounds scary, even to me.
"Huh? Um. Okay..." I release Shuichi's birdlike wrists and allow him freedom of movement once again. "Sorry, did I pinch too hard?"
Now is the time for a well-placed lie. "Yeah."
As if. Shuichi could probably rake his fingernails down my back and tear my skin into deep furrows of blood and gore, and I'd enjoy it.
"Ack! I'm so sorry, Ryu-chan! I get carried away with playing sometimes. I was just trying to, you know, cheer you up."
"It's okay, na no da!" The way I say it, it sounds so natural, like I'm not as tormented as a penniless kid in a candy shop. Gathering my mental strength, I push myself off of Shuichi and end up laying beside him. Our shoulders touch as we both stare at a ceiling we can not see. "Hey Shu," I say, turning to try to make out his face. "Are you...okay? I mean, about seeing Tohma?"
"Yeah. I guess I am now. I think I punched Ten-san, though."
"He probably didn't notice, na no da. He was a stunt man when he was younger, I think. Jumping off buildings and stuff. A Shu-chan punch to Ten was probably like a Shu-chan crab attack to me."
"He's a nice guy," Shuichi says, his voice thoughtful and mildly distant. "Kinda weird, but nice. It's great that you have people that care about you so much."
"Ah, don't think like that, Shu. Hiroshi-kun cares, and K, and probably even that Fujisaki kid, even if he does complain a lot." I bite my bottom lip a bit, hesitating. I feel just like I did during the seconds in front of the Softy Tasty, before I asked Tomi back to my place. Heart beating rapidly, mouth dry. Ten years younger and infinitely uncertain. "Kumagoro cares. And Ryu...I...I care."
A feather-light stroke in the center of my palm causes my hand to twitch reflexively. Shuichi's fingers slip between mine. They're the perfect temperature, not hot, not cold. As mild as pool water that's been sitting out in a summer day. Although I expect him just to give my hand a squeeze and then pull away, he doesn't. Instead, he seems unable to be still, running his thumb down my own, sweeping across the thick pad of my palm, grazing his fingernail against the delicate skin of my wrist.
I suddenly get the idea that Shuichi has to touch things, has to explore them with his hands, to make sure that they are real. Maybe this is what makes him such a good hugger. He's hugging you to let you know that he is real, and to reassure himself that you're really there, too.
Shuichi continues to play with my hand, sliding our fingers apart and then back together again, etching ghost-words into my flesh with his fingertip, tickling the sensitive U-shaped divot between my pinky and ringfinger. It drives me crazy, this veil of innocence over a pool of lust, this gnawing need that just won't give up hope.
I didn't know, until now, that people could make love to each other just by holding hands.
Did you, Kumagoro?
I thought I knew everything about physical pleasure. It comes with the 'Troubled Rock-star Handbook'. Apparently I was...
...Oh god Shuichi, that feels nice...
I was wrong.
"Why the closet?"
Huh?
"Why'd you come hide in the closet?"
Why -did- I come in here, in the first place? "I don't remember, na no da. Must have been Kumagoro's idea. He thinks this is his room."
Shuichi makes a lilting "Hm" sound in the back of his throat, and says, "Sometimes I used to sleep in Yuki's closet, when he'd go on book signing tours. He'd tell me not to use his bed so..."
"And it smelled like him. In the closet."
"Yeah."
I'm so close to him now, I'm sure that Shuichi can feel my breath on his chin. "It was a pretty shirt. Birthday present?"
"Anniversary."
"Oh." What sort of stick-in-the-mud gets his lover something as unromantic as a shirt for their anniversary? And what sort of COMPLETE ASSHOLE then turns around and gives that shirt to his -new- lover? Ugh. Mean thoughts, Ryu, mean. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I've decided not to. Yuki's obviously made...a choice...and I'm not it."
The mention of Yuki Eiri breaks me from my fantasy world, reminding me of Tohma's visit. It's probably going to kill me, but I have to tell him about what Tohma said. "Shuichi, about Yuki-san... Tohma said that... There's this restrainy legal thing that I don't understand and also about the phone calls..."
-Now- Shuichi squeezes my hand. He's really got a good grip, and I'm glad. I'm glad he's holding me in place so I don't fall away into bits. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. Molly-san already explained everything, about the restraining order, the phone calls, and about Bad Luck's contract being transferred to America."
"I don't like it, Shu, but I don't know what we can do."
Shuichi sighs and turns over on his side. I can see his eyes, glinting faintly in the wan light, only inches from my own. "Sing with me?"
"Hmm?"
"Sing with me, a bit? Here in the closet? Because...because I want to feel normal. Singing makes me feel normal."
I nod in the darkness, trying to think of a decent song that isn't too sad or wasn't written by or for Yuki Eiri. But, before I come up with one, Shuichi starts with a single word:
"Sayonara..."
It's Gackt's song of the same title, off of his "Rebirth" album. It's a pretty good CD, altogether, one of my favorites.
But, it's so...
Sad.
"Sayonara..." I repeat, my voice edged and cutting in contrast to the wispy clouds of sound that dance from Shuichi's lips, "Sayonara, dear person whom I loved. Fallen tears turn to snow..."
"Sayonara...I, who cried until yesterday. I quietly close my eyes," Shuichi adds, his notes tearing at my heart.
"Nonchalantly extending my shoulder, I leaned towards the window, with a slightly embarrassed manner, I smiled. I was always watching...you, who gently kissed my cheek, and walked away."
I expect Shuichi to pick up the next verse, but he doesn't. Instead, he whispers timidly, "Will you stay next to me again tonight?"
What am I supposed to say?
I don't want to, but only because I really, really want to?
Further down the rabbit hole, digging my own destruction, sliding towards the Wonderland I crave, the Wonderland that will turn on me in the end, I go. Following the white rabbit, or in this case pink and blue, chasing after him, barely glimpsing his back before he runs away again. The Queen of Hearts, she is so cruel. Why must she always destroy everything in her path?
So I smile, hiding the truth as aptly as the Cheshire Cat.
"Yes. As long as you want, Shuichi. As long as you want."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In The Next Chapters: A dark alley, Yuki Eiri, a baseball bat aimed at Ryuichi's head. Retribution. Shuichi's smile. The end of friendships. An odd encounter blossoms into both hope and sadness. The things we can not change...and the things which end up changing us.
***Author Notes:
Not much to say about this chapter. I only got about halfway through the plot aspects I was hoping to. So, I have to revise my projected chapter estimation. 2 more? 3 more?
Some people commented on Ryuichi not acting as "crazy" as he did in the first few chapters. No, I don't think he would. Not only is Shuichi helping him keep focused, but I think many of the layers of just -oddness- that Ryuichi has built up through the years are falling away, by necessity, in order to help him interact with the situation.
***Review Notes:
Lots of reviews for the last chapter! I hope you don't mind, but it is very late, so I am going to try and post this tonight without the review replies. I'll update the chapter again tomorrow with them. Immense apologies. As always, I appreciate all your comments ever-so-much, and look forward to hearing what you think about the story. :D