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Chapter 7: The Affairs of Butterflies
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This is the part of the dream where I am sitting in the park on a bench with a life-sized version of Kumagoro. We're feeding the birds, or rather, I'm feeding them and Kumagoro is talking to them in bird-language. How Kuma-chan learned that, I don't know, but it doesn't seem to matter much, because this is a dream.
"In bird language, the word for 'goodbye' is also the word for 'hello'," Kumagoro says, leaning his head on his paw. "For when you leave the flock, you greet the world."
"Is that so?" I ask, popping a sucker into my mouth and swishing it around until the grape flavor coats my tongue. "How'd the birds get so smart?"
"Hmmm? Because of the butterflies."
"Butterflies?"
Kumagoro nods fervently, his dangling ears flopping up and down, "The birds didn't know anything about the world before the butterflies came. Nope, they just stayed up in the sky, way above everything, too grand to notice the world below. But, then, one day, a crow fell in love with a monarch butterfly who tried to soar too high. The crow tried to go down to follow the butterfly, but the wind from the blackbird's wings disturbed the lighter creature, causing him to be unable to fly. So the crow did the only thing he could. He went down to the earth below and landed, quite a heresy where his kind was concerned."
"Really?" I ask, pulling my lollipop out of my mouth.
"Of course, would I lie to you? Well, after that, the butterfly landed right on the back of the crow. Right on his back, you know? And for his sacrifice of coming out of the sky, the butterfly leaned forward and told the crow all of the best secrets of the world."
"What did he say?"
Kumagoro shrugs, "I don't know. I wasn't there." My plush friend must notice my dismay at the ending of his story, because he smirks and adds, "But the story doesn't end there."
"Oh," I bounce excitedly, throwing my arms around Kuma-chan, "Do they live happily ever after, the crow and the butterfly?"
"No," Kumagoro whispers, looking up at the sky, his soft paws stroking my head, "The butterfly told the crow that he knew one more secret. Just one more. The crow, entranced, begged and pleaded, even demanded to know, but the butterfly would not tell him. They had a heated argument, and at the climax, the crow swooped down and caught the butterfly in his mouth."
I try to push myself away from Kumagoro, try to pull his arms off of me, try to find air, but I can't. A sudden panic fills me. This is wrong. Something is wrong here. "No, Ryu-chan," he says, "You have to hear the end of the story."
"I don't want to. I don't like this story anymore, Kumagoro. Let me go."
I'm being pulled tighter and tighter into Kumagoro's crushing embrace. I can't move. I can't breathe.
"And as the crow went to swallow the butterfly, he heard those soft wings beat against the inside of his throat, that precious head sigh and say these last words: 'The last secret was...that I knew our love would end badly from the start. Nonetheless, knowing this, I landed on your back and gave you all I had to give. But, it wasn't enough. I was never enough for you...from the very beginning.'"
No.
No, the story can't end that way. That's not the ending that I want. It's not fair. With my fists, I beat Kumagoro, over and over, trying to escape, trying to...
Suddenly, I'm alone. I'm laying on the bench, the world sideways in my view. The park glitters with greens and golds, with ever-changing patterns of light and dark holding a forbidden dance with one another. I sit up slowly, running my fingers along the wood as I pull myself upright, breathing in the smell of sunlight upon leaves.
And then I see him, standing in the distance, watching me. Atop a small hill of grass, Yuki Eiri's black trenchcoat sways softly in the breeze. He takes off his sunglasses and peers at me, trapping me, looking through me. My blood turns into ice slushy, little flakes getting caught in my veins.
"Do you know what eventually happened to the crow?" Kumagoro's voice asks from nowhere. "You know, don't you, Ryuichi... Tell me what happens to the crow after he shares the secrets of the butterflies with the other birds."
I catch a glimpse of some movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning quickly, I watch as thousands of butterflies flood the park. A thousand colors, shaking, flapping, creating a fierce noise just by their movement. It is a swarm, and they are all heading for Yuki Eiri.
"Yuki-san!" I yell, jumping up, "Run, Yuki-san, you have to run! The butterflies..."
"What happens to the crow, Ryuichi?"
"RUN!!!!" Why won't he run? Why is he just standing there, looking at me, like I...like I...can...
"Tell me what happens. You know how this story ends."
I try to close my eyes, but I am unable to do so. I know. I already know what the crow does, I don't need to see it.
This is the only way he can redeem himself. This is the only way he can apologize. He can't bear to see the butterflies weep for their lost brother. He can't stand it, because they all look just like the love he swallowed whole.
The crow comes back and allows the butterflies to kill him.
As the butterflies descend on Yuki Eiri, a cloud of silken wings obscuring him from view, I scream.
I should have known this would end badly from the beginning.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Do you really have to go?" Shuichi asks with a pout. He's kneeling on the foot of my bed, Kumagoro clutched to his naked chest. His green pajama pants are falling down a bit at his left hip, exposing a rather tantalizing plane of flesh. Not that the whole world hasn't seen the hollow of that hip in posters and video. "Do you really?"
"Yeah," I say, giving Shuichi a squinty wink, "But it's only for a little while. I'll be back right after. And Ten says we can go have a picnic in the park, na no da." While this does sound fun, images from the previous night's dream flicker into my mind. But, I don't let Shuichi know about that. It would probably just upset him.
It's mid-morning already. Shuichi and I slept late. Or rather, Shuichi slept late. I woke up at dawn, covered in sweat, images of Yuki Eiri being torn to shreds by a swarm of bloodthirsty butterflies burned into my eyelids.
I haven't had a nightmare which didn't involve Tomi in a very, very long time.
So, what could I do? I just stayed there in bed, watching Shuichi sleep, his skin going from grey, to pale blue, to dark amber, to orange, and finally to pink as the sun rose. He sleeps on his side, with his knees drawn up and hands fisted together at his neck. (Quite cute.) He also drools. (Not so much cute as it is funny.)
Now, it isn't what you might be thinking. I didn't...I mean we didn't... It's not that way. I mean, ask Kumagoro if you don't believe me. It was just sleeping, that's all it was. And there's no harm in that. I've shared a bed with Tohma, and even Noriko, when we've been on tour before. So, it's not wrong, right?
Except I keep thinking that it might be...just a little...wrong.
Shuichi continues to pout. I also feel bad about leaving him here. But, Ten is going to stay with him, and Kumagoro, too. So, it should be alright.
"Alright, Shu, what do you think, blonde wig?"
"Looks fake."
Now it's my turn to pout. I hold up the wig to my head and look in the full length mirror. I went through a mirror phase a while back. Not because I think I'm super pretty, or anything like that. They just wouldn't let me look in any mirrors for so long when I was in the hospital, I was really worried that my face might have actually disappeared, and nobody wanted to tell me. I kept looking in mirrors all the time to make sure it wasn't true. But, now I just have the one mirror here, and one in the bathroom. "You don't think Ryu-chan would make a good blonde?"
Shuichi taps a finger lightly against his lips. "No. I think your hair looks very sexy just the way you have it."
"That's not the point..." I suddenly make a bee-line for the closet so that Shuichi can't see my face in the mirror. I think it may be possible that I am blushing. Why am I blushing? People call me sexy all the time, and it doesn't mean anything. Even linoleum can be very sexy, under the correct circumstances. Shuichi didn't mean anything at all by that. "No wig at all, then?"
"You could just go with the sunglasses and surgical mask."
"Very chafing, those masks." I pull my favorite headband out a drawer full of similar headbands. You should always get extras of everything you like a lot. Let's see. Headband. Alright. I've got on black slacks and a very normal looking button-up white shirt. I didn't tuck it in, though, so the hem hangs loosely at mid-thigh. I have boots on, but they are the least ostentatious boots I own, so that should be okay. With a pair of cheap sunglasses and the surgical mask, I should look like just another asthmatic Tokyo office-worker heading out to after-work drinks.
"What do you think, Shu?" I turn around and hold the white mask up to my lips.
Shuichi's eyebrow-piercing twitches slightly before he breaks out into giggles. My friend bounces a bit on the end of my bed and points at me. "Ryuichi, it doesn't work unless you actually button the button-up shirt. No self-respecting Tokyo office worker is going to walk around with his chest hanging out and his navel piercing showing."
I look down, my brows furrowing. "Is that true?" Now that I think about it, the only office workers I've ever met are the interns at NG, and they're all really just singers looking for their big break anyway. Those guys tend to wear whatever will get them noticed.
"'Course it's true. C'mere."
I shuffle over to Shuichi, feeling mildly stupid about how little I know concerning anything outside of my realm of expertise. I guess I've been a rock star too long, and like any other profession, tend to not think about how other people might act.
"Here," Shuichi says, pointing to the floor in front of the bed. I step forward a bit, and let him grab hold of the shirt. He buttons it for me, starting at the top and working downwards. I feel little tugs of cloth at my ribs as he pulls my shirt, dressing me. How strange, usually people try to -undress- me. "You don't have to worry about not knowing. It's not like you've ever worked in a regular office."
Kumagoro, from his supine attitude on the bed, agrees.
I know I shouldn't be, because it was just a dream, but I'm still a little nervous talking to Kumagoro right now. This is why I'm glad he agreed to stay with Shuichi today.
That and...well...I'm still worried about Shuichi trying to hurt himself, a little.
"Shu," I say as he reaches up and straightens my collar, "You're gonna be here when I get back, right?"
"Yeah."
"Promise?"
"Of course. You don't have to worry about me. I'm going to be fine. Even though, you know, I really don't think it's a good idea about you going, and all."
"There's some things I have to sign. Recordings to approve and stuff. It's nothing important, na no da," I reply, turning to go check the results in the mirror. Not bad. I'm pretty sure I look normal. Eighty percent sure, at least. Well, sixty-five and a half percent. Who am I kidding? I have no clue.
"Won't Seguchi-san be there?"
"Probably, but he'll avoid me like I'm a match and he's gasoline."
"That's a pretty good analogy."
"I know, I think I'm going to use it in a song."
"Ah, damn, I was going to steal it."
Our conversation is interrupted by Molly's arrival. With that, I bid Shuichi goodbye, but only after making him promise two more times that he's going to be here when I get back.
Molly and I head down the elevator and out to her car. Riding in the Lexus, instead of my limo or a taxi, is always pretty fun, because I get to ride in the front, na no da, which I don't often get to do. It's totally different to get to see Tokyo coming at you from the front, instead of just watching it whiz past you on the side.
And Molly is a pretty good driver, too, which means she drives fast. (Ten is a complete slowpoke.) When people cut her off, she calls them names in English, but never exactly curses.
"You doodle-head, who taught you how to drive?"
See what I mean?
I watch Tokyo as it passes. The city has always seemed mystical to me. She is, herself, a forbidden paramour, an entity with which you can become obscenely obsessed. At turns offering exquisite delights, then scornfully casting you aside, she taunts, teases, and tempts. One person alone can never fully possess her heart. No, it takes a multitude to satisfy her desires.
And the only way to escape her eventual wrath is to change yourself, to become someone she no longer recognizes. Only then, tiptoeing and skulking through the shadows, can you find her weakness, and kill her before she kills you.
"Where'd you get your license, you cheese-packer? A Crackerjack box?"
I don't like that I'm having dreams about killing Yuki Eiri. I don't want to be the kind of person who will go to -any- lengths to get what he wants.
But what if I am, really, not in control of myself enough to stop doing the things I know are wrong? I know it was wrong to smash up Tohma's car, but at the time, I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't thinking about right or wrong, I wasn't thinking about anything except... No, that's not right, I wasn't thinking, at all. Just like when I slapped Tohma. Just like when I let Shuichi climb into my bed.
Just like when I tried to kill myself so long ago.
I always do just what I want to do. I always do what feels best at the time, instead of what I know to be right.
So, would I...
I'm glad I probably won't find out what I would do to Yuki Eiri.
"People on quaaludes shouldn't drive!"
I peer at Molly, shaken from my internal dilemmas. "Molly, how do you even know what quaaludes -are-?"
Molly's lips swish back and forth, as if she's debating giving me a straight answer. "Research. For my job," she replies quietly, looking rather embarrassed that she had to admit it.
"I don't do that sorta stuff anymore, na no da. The only pills I take are the ones you give me."
"I know, but Seguchi-san thought I should, um, know just in case."
Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
See, even Tohma doesn't have any faith in my self-control. Then again, why should he? I can't think of a single person who trusts me to stop myself before I do the wrong thing. Not Nori-chan. Not Molly. Not Ten.
Well, maybe Shuichi does. I don't know, actually.
We pull into the NG parking garage only moments later. As we head inside, I put the surgical mask on over my face.
I really don't want to have to talk to anyone I know.
I can't imagine how I look right now, without Kumagoro, all buttoned-up and hidden beneath these shades and this mask. I probably look strange. I certainly feel different.
Yes. This is good. Taking this step is good. This will be my decision. I'm going to take control of the situation. For my sake, and for Shuichi's sake. I have to make my move, so Tohma will take me seriously this time. So everyone will take me seriously.
"I'll go to your office, and get your lyric notes and some files we need," Molly says as the elevator arrives at the second floor. "Are you sure you're going to be okay alone?"
"Yeah."
She tries to give me a reassuring smile, and continues to watch me until the elevator doors fully close.
Now is the time...
To make the choice.
For a second, my finger hovers over the button for the first floor. I could always just go back downstairs, get a hamburger, and forget about it.
The music in the elevator switches from some truly revolting old Tsunami Puppets tune to Nittle Grasper's 'Shining Collection'.
That song was a lie.
Yuki Eiri wrote a lie, and Tohma made me sing it.
The button for the fourth floor lights up under the pressure of my fingertip.
There comes a time when lies must end, when the illusion must be torn away to reveal the monster underneath. I don't know Tohma anymore, and he no longer knows me. The imaginary world I've constructed must be torn down, bulldozed, demolished, to make way for something new and better.
It will be better this way, really it will.
"Red soaked fingertips dye the atmosphere with fluttering butterfly tears," my voice sings into my ears.
The door opens to reveal a long hallway, completely devoid of people. I step off of the elevator, but before the doors close, my voice says, "And all is turned to sand, shining, make you cry..."
My footsteps echo in the empty hallway as I find the door to Tohma's office. I don't even hesitate, don't knock, don't have a second thought. No. I just throw the doors open and step inside. I don't even -care- if Tohma is in here or not.
Is Tohma in here?
Yeah, he is. He's sitting on that ugly leather couch of his, talking into his cellphone. His head jerks up and he stares at me, wide-eyed. I guess he wasn't expecting I'd show up this quickly.
"Ryuichi?"
I ignore him. Instead I head straight for his desk, the notes of 'Shining Collection' still replaying over and over in my mind. Lies. So many lies. How can people lie so prettily? With smiles and sighs and words so adoring? Where do you learn to make lies like this?
I step behind the desk. In my rush, my hand slaps down on the desktop, my thick gold ring, identical to the one buried with Tomi, makes a tremendous 'pop' against the wood as I pull open the top drawer.
This noise makes Tohma flinch as he babbles something incoherent into his cellphone.
And there, laying in that mahogany drawer, is the Nittle Grasper contract, just like Tohma promised. Well, at least he tells the truth about some things. I peer at it for only a second before grabbing it. Yes. It says Nittle Grasper on it. The sunlight from the window behind me illuminates the names signed at the bottom.
In a pretty script, "Ukai Noriko".
In precise block writing, "Seguchi Tohma".
And lastly, an almost unreadable scribble of "Sakuma Ryuichi".
I hold it up for Tohma to see. His eyes narrow slightly, his hand, the one holding the cellphone, drops to the seat of the couch.
Tearing it down the middle seems to take forever, even though you know it doesn't really take more than a second or two. Time is elongated, like moments spent in an earthquake.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.
The sound reminds me vaguely of a wrecking ball smashing into a building.
I tear the pages again and again, as many times as possible, so there can be no mistake in Tohma's mind of what I came to do. I make him watch as Nittle Grasper is torn into shreds. I make him listen as the paper says for me, 'I don't need you anymore, Seguchi Tohma. I don't need you at all.'
I head towards Tohma, feeling fire in my veins, heat in my throat. He sits quite still, not knowing exactly what to expect, I suppose. Stopping only a foot or two away from him, I look down at him, looking up at me. He's wearing his black Armani suit over a purple silk shirt, and this fact makes me smirk.
I know how this story ends.
The paper fragments I toss at Tohma flutter downwards, a thousand white butterflies of retribution seeking to stop his heart. Is it painful for you, Tohma, I wonder? Because you did this to yourself. This is what you chose the moment you decided to become involved in the affairs of the butterflies. You just had to know the forbidden secrets, of how Yuki Eiri might taste, of how he might sound, of what it might feel like, when he belonged to you, instead of Shuichi.
The retribution of the butterflies is terrible, indeed.
But it must be what you wanted, because that was the choice you made.
Without having ever said a word, I leave Tohma there, sitting covered in torn shards of the Nittle Grasper contract.
By the time I get back to the elevator, the music has changed again.
Now it's Bad Luck, and Shuichi is singing.
I hope he doesn't mind, but...
I think I'll sing along.
I'm just a fan, now. Just a fan of Bad Luck singing along with the music in the elevator. Nittle Grasper is gone. I will never sing lies again.
And you know what?
It feels good.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Molly is still going through the papers in my office by the time I return. I don't really want to sit in there. In fact, I don't really want to be in NG at all, anymore.
She doesn't ask me about what happened with Tohma. I guess she just thinks that I'll tell her when I'm ready, which I will. Instead, she hands me one of my credit cards and tells me to be careful.
I guess she can tell that I need to get some air. And dressed like this, no one is going to recognize me, anyway. Besides, Shining Collection CDs is only two blocks away.
Yes. It's really called Shining Collection CDs.
SCCDs is absolutely my most favorite store on the entire planet. It used to just be called "Rexie's" up until a few years ago, when 'Shining Collection' came out. Then the owner, Soumei Reji, affectionately known to everyone as "Rexie", asked me if he could change the name.
In return, I get free CDs for life. Well, as long as I don't pick up more than a half-dozen a week. Then I have to pay. And sometimes, I just need a lot of CDs.
A LOT of CDs.
Sixty million zillion.
Alright, not quite that many.
Not that Rexie didn't give me free CDs sometimes -before- he changed the name. He was you know, the first manager Nittle Grasper ever had. He retired a while after Tomi died, gave the contract to Tohma and K, and opened his little CD shop down the street.
I think he likes it a lot more than being a manager.
I take the elevator down to the first floor, make sure I have the mask and sunglasses on, and head out onto the street. At this time of day, Tokyo buzzes with activity. There's cars honking, people selling everything from newspapers to expensive looking knock-off jewelry, a hundred different people hurrying towards a hundred different destinations. The city smells spicy, like exotic after-shave and hot peppers, but that might just be the Thai place on the corner and the cluster of about a dozen businessmen standing around it.
Despite what I've just done, I feel somehow more free now, like I'd been carrying around giant boulders in my pockets and suddenly just figured out how to take them out. Making big decisions can do this to you, it seems.
I take my time going to SCCDs, perusing the windows at various shops, watching as a cluster of schoolgirls swoon at the front of an electronics shop that just happens to have music videos playing on the TVs. Unfortunately, they're playing that stupid Tsunami Puppets video where Red flops around on the floor in black latex.
I used to like that song.
I used to be a big Tsunami Puppets fan.
I wonder if Red got his ear patched up.
Anyway, I finally arrive at SCCD's, but not before buying a cool bracelet off of a street vendor. It's a black leather band with fluffy pink faux fur trim sewn onto the edge. I think I'll give it to Shuichi.
SCCD's isn't very big. The whole store would easily fit in my living room, but its packed ceiling to floor with every CD you could imagine. Wherever there's an inch of space left over, Rexie has flyers for local bands, posters, music magazines, and other great music paraphernalia.
The place is a feast for the ears and eyes.
The little bell on the door rings as I open it and step inside. There's thankfully few customers here today. In fact, the only one that I see is Old Rho, a local jazz musician who still collects actual vinyl records. He's got four record players. He used to have five, but I bought one of them off him a few months ago.
I wonder where I put that record player.
"Welcome to Shining Collection," Rexie says mildly listlessly from behind the counter as he turns over a new CD and squints at the back, "Can I help you find anything today?"
"Yeah, do you have a bootleg copy of the Nittle Grasper concert in Dresden, 1996?"
"Look buddy. First of all, we don't sell bootlegs. Second of all, Nittle Grasper didn't tour Europe until 1997..." Rexie puts down the CD and leans forward, his eyes becoming thin slits as he looks me up and down. Finally, he throws his hands up in the air and laughs, "Ryuichi?"
I push my sunglasses up and wink at him.
"Ryu, you...you damn imp!"
After Rexie makes his way around the counter, he barges at me, and I end up with 250lbs of ex-manager swishing me into a tight hug.
"Can't...breathe..."
"Didn't recognize you. What's up with the disguise? Where's Kumagoro? Why the hell didn't call ahead? Do you want some pizza?"
Rexie's big on asking questions and moving on before you can answer. "Can't...breathe...Rex...ie..."
"Oh, right." Rexie lets me go and clasps a firm hand on my shoulder. "Okay, let me hear it."
"Rexie," I whine, "Not that..."
"Give it to me now, or else."
I look at Old Rho for support. He just shrugs.
"Give me my goddamn 'LA', Ryuichi. I have to check your voice."
I sigh and do as he asks. We're not going to get anywhere until Rexie is satisfied that my voice checks out.
"Laaaaaaaaaaaa."
"And the next?"
"Faaalaaaalaaaaa."
"Alright, good!" Rexie shoves me in the direction of the counter. "C'mere, I got some great stuff I've been saving for you. I've even got..." Rexie rummages around in one of the drawers, "A copy of the 'I'm Afraid of Americans' single signed by both Bowie -and- Reznor."
Oh My God.
I've turned into a blubbering fangirl.
Shuichi is going to have a conniption.
Rexie sure knows how to completely annihilate a tense and exhausting day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I've got two bags of CDs, magazines, and other stuff, one in each hand, as I walk down the street back towards NG. I can't believe how much I ended up buying.
Plus, Rexie gave me a limited edition copy of 'Critical Sunshine' with the extra CD of interviews with Bad Luck. I think I'm going to get Shuichi to sign it for me. With a pink paint marker.
Or maybe one of those glitter pens.
I don't think I'll tell him about the Nittle Grasper contract, yet. Maybe next week.
While I am contemplating my purchases, and the excitement of going home to see Shuichi, I get this rather odd prickle on the back of my neck. You know, the one where you feel like something is wrong, but you just can't place what it is?
On a whim, I look over my shoulder. There's someone...in a baseball cap...and a windbreaker...
I stop
He stops.
I can't see who...
I begin to walk a little faster. Looking back again, I find that -he's- walking a little faster.
Fuck.
I break out into a run, making my way through the people, weaving in and out of the crowd. People fly past so quickly that they don't even have faces anymore. My heart pumps wildly as I look back a third time.
There's no one.
That's when I feel one of the bags in my hand being ripped away from my grasp. The thief, the same guy in the baseball cap and faded jacket, darts into an alleyway that runs along the side of NG studios. And he takes with him all the CDs, as well as the bracelet I bought for Shuichi.
That's just...not....NICE!
I duck into the alleyway, leaving the busy streets of Tokyo behind. This place smells like burning plastic. Nonetheless, it's pretty clean. There's some dumpsters, and some seriously unfixable old recording equipment lying in a big pile. Otherwise, there's nothing much here besides two walls and a concrete walkway.
My footsteps echo off of the stone edifices as I slowly make my way forward. Maybe they took the CDs but threw out the bracelet. Then, at least, I'd have something left besides just this bag of magazines.
"Sakuma-san, Sakuma-san, I've been waiting for you for days," a thick voice taunts.
"Who's there?"
The figure in the baseball cap steps halfway out from behind a dumpster, "There's such rumors at NG, right now. Where has our beloved Sakuma Ryuichi, god of music and lust been all this time? And do you know what they say? They say that he's shacked up with that utterly contemptible little whore from Bad Luck. You should have just told me that you wanted to go slumming, Sakuma-san, we could have gone together."
I know that voice. I -know- that voice.
"But, no, no, you chose -him-, that whiny little pink haired punk, over -me-. ME! Fuck, Sakuma-san, does that puny runt even -have- a dick? He looks so much like a girl...you'd think he'd had it chopped off..."
"Please don't talk about Shuichi that way," I say quietly, trying my hardest not to step backwards "And please give me back my CDs....Red."
"Fuck no. I'll consider them part of my payment for getting my goddamn ear half chewed off. And as for the rest of my payment..."
Red steps into the middle of the alleyway, and that is when I see...
The shiny aluminum baseball bat in his hand.
"I'm really going to enjoy beating the crap out of you, Sakuma-san. Your pretty face won't taunt me anymore. When I get done, I'm sure, you'll never sing again. I'll never have to envy your achievements. I'll never lay awake at night wondering what it would be like to have you, because you'll be ugly and broken, and -nobody- will want you anymore."
"You're sick. Demented. Totally insane," I say, not really paying attention. I'm trying to decide if I can make it back out of the alley, if I can run fast enough... But, no. Red is tall and lanky, completely wiry. As soon as I turn, he'll jump me.
"Sick? Demented? Insane? Aren't those just occupational hazards for us, Sakuma-san?" Red peels off his baseball cap and lets his fiery crimson hair hang down over his shoulders. He plants his feet and lifts the baseball bat. "C'mon, Ryuichi. I tell you what. If you strip out of that ridiculous outfit you're wearing, crawl over here on your hands and knees, and beg, I won't hit you in the face."
"No." I'm scared. Completely terrified. But, I'm pretty sure that doing what Red just asked isn't going to spare me any pain. He's going to beat me half to death, so I might as well save myself the humiliation.
"No?" Red snarls, and stomps his foot childishly. "NO? DON'T. YOU. EVER. TELL. ME. NO. AGAIN!!!"
I close my eyes as Red darts forward. Being hit with a baseball bat will probably be pretty bad. So, I have to prepare myself. After the first time, fall down on the ground and curl into a ball. That's what Ten always says. If someone is hurting you, curl into a ball with your hands over your face to protect your hands, face and stomach. Right? No. Except for riots at concerts, and then you're supposed to get as high off the ground as possible so you don't get trampled.
Or do I have that backwards?
Crap, I should pay more attention.
But, really, that's Kumagoro's job. Isn't it?
Yes. Being hit with a baseball bat will probably hurt a lot. I'll think of good things. Okay. Good things. Um. Coloring with Kumagoro. Tomi dancing around our apartment wearing nothing but an apron. Shuichi's smile. Yes. That's it. Shuichi's smile.
Fw-THUMP.
Click.
"What are you smiling about, idiot? Get over here and take his bat."
I open one eye, just a little, and see the most wonderfully horrible thing I could ever imagine.
Standing over the prone, and trembling body of the Tsunami Puppets' lead singer, is Yuki Eiri.
And the reason why Red is trembling...
Is because Yuki Eiri has a gun.
Now, I don't know much about guns, but what I do know is this: No matter what kind is pointed at your head, you shut up pretty quick.
"Yuki-san?" I ask, tiptoeing forward ever-so-carefully.
"The bat, Sakuma, the bat."
"Um...okay..." I step over Red's legs and bend down to pick up the bat laying only a few inches from Red's fingers. I put it over behind the dumpster, which is, of course, where I find my bag of CDs.
By the time I return, Yuki Eiri has his foot in the middle of Red's chest. Those brilliant amber eyes of Yuki-san's could drive fear into a raging lion, I think.
I really hope he doesn't shoot Red. Because that would be messy, loud, and very hard to explain.
"Now," Yuki-san says, pressing the toe of his foot into Red's sternum. "Open your mouth."
Red doesn't at first. But then Yuki-san grinds the barrel of the gun against his lips, and I guess it's either do that...or have his teeth broken off from the pressure.
I'm even more scared -now- than I was when it was just Red with a bat. Without Kumagoro to hold on to, I just clutch my shopping bags to my chest.
"Remember the taste of the end of this gun," Yuki-san says, his voice dark as night, "Because if I ever hear of you threatening Sakuma-san, or Shindou-san, ever again, I'll be coming after you. Only next time, I'll send a bullet down your throat. Got it?"
Red tries to nod, but he just ends up clacking his teeth against the gun.
"Good." Yuki-san pulls the gun out of Red's mouth, thankfully, and removes his foot from the other man's chest. After that, Yuki-san bends down, mutters something at Red that I can't hear, stands back up...
And kicks Red directly in the head.
This knocks him out.
I hope he's just knocked out. Because he isn't moving much.
No, he's breathing. I can see his chest still moving. Oh, that's a relief.
Mildly.
Yuki-san takes a deep breath, and his shoulders sag a bit as he puts the gun back in his pants, or his pocket, or wherever guns go. I can't see because his long jacket is in the way.
"Come on, Sakuma, we're leaving," he says, turning to face me, but not exactly -looking- at me. His blonde hair hangs limply in his face, and he appears to be coated in a thin sheen of sweat. I can't tell, exactly, what he wants or what he might be thinking. Yuki-san is as hard to read as Tohma, but at least with Tohma I have years of friendship upon which to rely.
I must be just standing there, staring in complete and utter confusion, because Yuki-san repeats himself. "Sakuma. Now. Let's go."
"Ano, Yuki-san..." There's practically an entire dictionary full of questions I need to ask him all the same time. They all jumble together so completely that I just end up stumbling after him as he walks towards the back of the alley. There's a dull grey door there, painted with some very important words. "To Garage."
Oh god. He's going to take me to his car, drive me out into the middle of nowhere, shoot me, and dump my body.
Maybe Yuki-san set this whole thing up. Maybe he had Red attack me just so he could get my trust and I'd follow him to his car and then...
Wait, why would Yuki-san want to kill me?
Well, except for the fact that his ex-boyfriend is living at my house.
But, if he doesn't want Shuichi anymore then, why would he even care?
"Come ON, Sakuma," Yuki-san says, grabbing my wrist and dragging me through the door. "We're going."
"Where?"
"Elsewhere."
I don't like the growl in his voice.
No, not at all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yuki-san is an even better driver than Molly. This is to say that he drives very, very, very fast. He has a nice car. It looks like brand new, but I think he's had it for a while because it has upwards of 30k kilometers on it. I wonder how he keeps it so clean. Yuki-san doesn't really seem like the type of guy who obsesses over his car. Though, I did notice an empty box of Pocky peeking out from underneath the passenger side seat. Maybe Shuichi cleans it.
I should really learn to drive. It seems like fun. Then I could just get in my car and go places. I could take Shuichi out to Yokohama to visit my parents in spring when the harbor is pretty and windy and all the posh set are out on their yachts. We could rent a boat. Wait, no, that's probably not a good idea because Kumagoro and I both get sea sick.
I wonder if Shuichi gets sea sick.
I wonder if Yuki Eiri knows or cares whether Shuichi gets sea sick.
I'm very nervous.
I'm very nervous, and I don't have Kumagoro here, and Yuki Eiri has a gun and he's driving me somewhere very fast, but I don't know where, and I can't even see his eyes because he's wearing shades, and Tohma's going to be furious, and Molly's going to be furious, and Shuichi and Ten are going to be incredibly worried.
I guess I...better say..something.
"Yuki-san," I say, fiddling with the strap on the seat belt, "Why were you there...behind NG?"
He doesn't answer.
"I mean because, I think Red would have probably beaten me pretty badly with the bat if you hadn't shown up."
Yuki Eiri's hands tighten around the steering wheel. "Don't you have a bodyguard you're supposed to stay with, idiot?"
"Yeah, but he's..." He's at my home making sure Shuichi doesn't try to throw himself off the balcony again. I'm not going to tell you that. I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of knowing how much you're hurting Shuichi. Okay, now I am a little less scared, and little more angry.
"I was smoking a cigarette out in front of NG, waiting for you. I saw that asshole pull you into the alley and followed you."
"But, how did you know I was at NG?"
"Who do you think Seguchi-kun was on the phone with when you barged into his office?"
"Oh? Oh. Right." Well, that makes sense, I guess. No. NO IT DOESN'T. It doesn't make any sense at all. Didn't he just sign a restrainy contract thing to keep Shu and I away from him? And now he came to find me?
My brain is going to explode all over Yuki-san's nice, pretty, clean car.
Ooo, the air conditioner feels good on my hands. It reminds me of Shuichi's soft little touches on my palms. His fingers sliding between mine...
Wait, no, I can't be thinking about this while I am in the car with Yuki-san. I've got to focus.
I should be focusing on where the hell we are going, so that when Yuki Eiri inevitably shoots me, I can possibly drag my nigh-lifeless body to the nearest phone.
Or hospital.
Whichever is more convenient.
But, I can't really see anything as it whizzes past. I mean, I can see it, but the buildings don't make any sense to me. Are we uptown? Are we downtown? What district are we in? I don't know. I can't tell.
I'm feeling dizzy, which is never a good sign.
Dizzy and losing even more control over everything that's happening. I don't understand. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Once I made my decision with the Nittle Grasper contract, -I- was supposed to be in control again. I took my destiny into my own hands, so...
My mind keeps flashing back to Yuki Eiri standing over Red with that gun in his hand. Guns. Are. Bad. Even -I- know that.
"Yuki-san," I say quietly, running my fingertips over the leather dashboard. Well, at least if I die, I'll die speeding down the highway surrounded by fine Italian leather. "I don't understand. Why do you have a gun?"
And why did you bring it to NG?
"You don't want to know," Yuki-san says tonelessly.
"No, I do." I take a deep breath, feeling the cool crisp car air swirl around in my lungs. I've got to try to...be... Tomi, help me be eloquent. Please. "Look, I know you think I'm an idiot. You and I, we've never exactly been friends. And, I figure that Tohma's told you about a lot of the stupid things I've done over the years. But, I'm seriously just trying to understand what is going on here. I just want to help, that's all."
Please let him believe me.
Yuki-san keeps driving. I guess he didn't believe me. Or, he just doesn't care, or...
"Where's your stuffed animal?"
"Huh?"
"That pink thing you drag around everywhere, where is it?"
I look out the window. We're going over a bridge now. The water sparkles underneath the low-hanging sun. Must be nice to be a fish. I'd like to try it sometime. You know, except for the sea sickness, and all.
"If I tell you where Kumagoro is, will you tell me why you have a gun?"
Yuki-san shrugs the smallest shrug possible. I think that is a 'yes'. I'm not exactly sure, though.
It's hard to even say it. Somehow, I feel like, just by saying it, I'm confessing to some horrible crime. "Kumagoro is with Shuichi. I left him with Shuichi, so maybe Shuichi would...feel a little better, I guess."
Even though I'm observing him carefully, there's absolutely no sign of a reaction of any sort from Yuki-san.
"So, about the gun?"
As he takes a cigarette pack out of his jacket pocket, Yuki-san makes a left turn. That's got to be hard to do, simultaneously, like that. Yuki-san bounces the box in his hand and draws out one of the cigs with his lips.
He doesn't light it, though. It just hangs there, like it helps him think.
"I bought a gun," Yuki-san says, his voice dreamlike and far away, "Because I've been thinking about killing someone."
The car pulls to a stop at a light.
And at this instant, I'm utterly afraid. Not because I'm breaking the law just by being in the car with Yuki Eiri, not because I'm being kidnapped by a man with a gun who just confessed he's thinking about murder...
But because, right then, a butterfly lands on the front window.
The most beautiful butterfly I've ever seen.
And a voice, deep, deep inside my mind whispers...
"I know how this story ends."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In Our Next Chapter: Will Ryuichi get answers? OR will he get shot? Conversely, will Ryuichi take a preemptive strike and do something horrible to Yuki? Double Glitz. Perverse acts. And a kiss that could drive a man insane.
***Author Notes:
Well, that was a pretty bad cliffhanger. Sorry. I'll try to get the next chapter out, superquick. Also, FF.net appears to be cracking down on review replies. This makes me extremely sad, because I think it is a fanfiction author's privilege and joy to answer questions in reviews and thank readers.
So, since I can't currently get a straight answer from ff.net themselves about what is okay, review-reply-wise, I'm going to post my review comments on my webpage. You can find the link in my profile, if you want to go through the trouble. I should have the ones from last chapter, and the chapter before, up by tomorrow night at the latest! Thanks again SO MUCH for all your reviews, which are like a thousand beautiful butterflies making my heart leap for joy!
Ack. Bit of a mistake on the Rexie part. Thanks for Veleda for pointing it out. I changed up the wording to make the timeline work out better.
Chapter 7: The Affairs of Butterflies
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This is the part of the dream where I am sitting in the park on a bench with a life-sized version of Kumagoro. We're feeding the birds, or rather, I'm feeding them and Kumagoro is talking to them in bird-language. How Kuma-chan learned that, I don't know, but it doesn't seem to matter much, because this is a dream.
"In bird language, the word for 'goodbye' is also the word for 'hello'," Kumagoro says, leaning his head on his paw. "For when you leave the flock, you greet the world."
"Is that so?" I ask, popping a sucker into my mouth and swishing it around until the grape flavor coats my tongue. "How'd the birds get so smart?"
"Hmmm? Because of the butterflies."
"Butterflies?"
Kumagoro nods fervently, his dangling ears flopping up and down, "The birds didn't know anything about the world before the butterflies came. Nope, they just stayed up in the sky, way above everything, too grand to notice the world below. But, then, one day, a crow fell in love with a monarch butterfly who tried to soar too high. The crow tried to go down to follow the butterfly, but the wind from the blackbird's wings disturbed the lighter creature, causing him to be unable to fly. So the crow did the only thing he could. He went down to the earth below and landed, quite a heresy where his kind was concerned."
"Really?" I ask, pulling my lollipop out of my mouth.
"Of course, would I lie to you? Well, after that, the butterfly landed right on the back of the crow. Right on his back, you know? And for his sacrifice of coming out of the sky, the butterfly leaned forward and told the crow all of the best secrets of the world."
"What did he say?"
Kumagoro shrugs, "I don't know. I wasn't there." My plush friend must notice my dismay at the ending of his story, because he smirks and adds, "But the story doesn't end there."
"Oh," I bounce excitedly, throwing my arms around Kuma-chan, "Do they live happily ever after, the crow and the butterfly?"
"No," Kumagoro whispers, looking up at the sky, his soft paws stroking my head, "The butterfly told the crow that he knew one more secret. Just one more. The crow, entranced, begged and pleaded, even demanded to know, but the butterfly would not tell him. They had a heated argument, and at the climax, the crow swooped down and caught the butterfly in his mouth."
I try to push myself away from Kumagoro, try to pull his arms off of me, try to find air, but I can't. A sudden panic fills me. This is wrong. Something is wrong here. "No, Ryu-chan," he says, "You have to hear the end of the story."
"I don't want to. I don't like this story anymore, Kumagoro. Let me go."
I'm being pulled tighter and tighter into Kumagoro's crushing embrace. I can't move. I can't breathe.
"And as the crow went to swallow the butterfly, he heard those soft wings beat against the inside of his throat, that precious head sigh and say these last words: 'The last secret was...that I knew our love would end badly from the start. Nonetheless, knowing this, I landed on your back and gave you all I had to give. But, it wasn't enough. I was never enough for you...from the very beginning.'"
No.
No, the story can't end that way. That's not the ending that I want. It's not fair. With my fists, I beat Kumagoro, over and over, trying to escape, trying to...
Suddenly, I'm alone. I'm laying on the bench, the world sideways in my view. The park glitters with greens and golds, with ever-changing patterns of light and dark holding a forbidden dance with one another. I sit up slowly, running my fingers along the wood as I pull myself upright, breathing in the smell of sunlight upon leaves.
And then I see him, standing in the distance, watching me. Atop a small hill of grass, Yuki Eiri's black trenchcoat sways softly in the breeze. He takes off his sunglasses and peers at me, trapping me, looking through me. My blood turns into ice slushy, little flakes getting caught in my veins.
"Do you know what eventually happened to the crow?" Kumagoro's voice asks from nowhere. "You know, don't you, Ryuichi... Tell me what happens to the crow after he shares the secrets of the butterflies with the other birds."
I catch a glimpse of some movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning quickly, I watch as thousands of butterflies flood the park. A thousand colors, shaking, flapping, creating a fierce noise just by their movement. It is a swarm, and they are all heading for Yuki Eiri.
"Yuki-san!" I yell, jumping up, "Run, Yuki-san, you have to run! The butterflies..."
"What happens to the crow, Ryuichi?"
"RUN!!!!" Why won't he run? Why is he just standing there, looking at me, like I...like I...can...
"Tell me what happens. You know how this story ends."
I try to close my eyes, but I am unable to do so. I know. I already know what the crow does, I don't need to see it.
This is the only way he can redeem himself. This is the only way he can apologize. He can't bear to see the butterflies weep for their lost brother. He can't stand it, because they all look just like the love he swallowed whole.
The crow comes back and allows the butterflies to kill him.
As the butterflies descend on Yuki Eiri, a cloud of silken wings obscuring him from view, I scream.
I should have known this would end badly from the beginning.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Do you really have to go?" Shuichi asks with a pout. He's kneeling on the foot of my bed, Kumagoro clutched to his naked chest. His green pajama pants are falling down a bit at his left hip, exposing a rather tantalizing plane of flesh. Not that the whole world hasn't seen the hollow of that hip in posters and video. "Do you really?"
"Yeah," I say, giving Shuichi a squinty wink, "But it's only for a little while. I'll be back right after. And Ten says we can go have a picnic in the park, na no da." While this does sound fun, images from the previous night's dream flicker into my mind. But, I don't let Shuichi know about that. It would probably just upset him.
It's mid-morning already. Shuichi and I slept late. Or rather, Shuichi slept late. I woke up at dawn, covered in sweat, images of Yuki Eiri being torn to shreds by a swarm of bloodthirsty butterflies burned into my eyelids.
I haven't had a nightmare which didn't involve Tomi in a very, very long time.
So, what could I do? I just stayed there in bed, watching Shuichi sleep, his skin going from grey, to pale blue, to dark amber, to orange, and finally to pink as the sun rose. He sleeps on his side, with his knees drawn up and hands fisted together at his neck. (Quite cute.) He also drools. (Not so much cute as it is funny.)
Now, it isn't what you might be thinking. I didn't...I mean we didn't... It's not that way. I mean, ask Kumagoro if you don't believe me. It was just sleeping, that's all it was. And there's no harm in that. I've shared a bed with Tohma, and even Noriko, when we've been on tour before. So, it's not wrong, right?
Except I keep thinking that it might be...just a little...wrong.
Shuichi continues to pout. I also feel bad about leaving him here. But, Ten is going to stay with him, and Kumagoro, too. So, it should be alright.
"Alright, Shu, what do you think, blonde wig?"
"Looks fake."
Now it's my turn to pout. I hold up the wig to my head and look in the full length mirror. I went through a mirror phase a while back. Not because I think I'm super pretty, or anything like that. They just wouldn't let me look in any mirrors for so long when I was in the hospital, I was really worried that my face might have actually disappeared, and nobody wanted to tell me. I kept looking in mirrors all the time to make sure it wasn't true. But, now I just have the one mirror here, and one in the bathroom. "You don't think Ryu-chan would make a good blonde?"
Shuichi taps a finger lightly against his lips. "No. I think your hair looks very sexy just the way you have it."
"That's not the point..." I suddenly make a bee-line for the closet so that Shuichi can't see my face in the mirror. I think it may be possible that I am blushing. Why am I blushing? People call me sexy all the time, and it doesn't mean anything. Even linoleum can be very sexy, under the correct circumstances. Shuichi didn't mean anything at all by that. "No wig at all, then?"
"You could just go with the sunglasses and surgical mask."
"Very chafing, those masks." I pull my favorite headband out a drawer full of similar headbands. You should always get extras of everything you like a lot. Let's see. Headband. Alright. I've got on black slacks and a very normal looking button-up white shirt. I didn't tuck it in, though, so the hem hangs loosely at mid-thigh. I have boots on, but they are the least ostentatious boots I own, so that should be okay. With a pair of cheap sunglasses and the surgical mask, I should look like just another asthmatic Tokyo office-worker heading out to after-work drinks.
"What do you think, Shu?" I turn around and hold the white mask up to my lips.
Shuichi's eyebrow-piercing twitches slightly before he breaks out into giggles. My friend bounces a bit on the end of my bed and points at me. "Ryuichi, it doesn't work unless you actually button the button-up shirt. No self-respecting Tokyo office worker is going to walk around with his chest hanging out and his navel piercing showing."
I look down, my brows furrowing. "Is that true?" Now that I think about it, the only office workers I've ever met are the interns at NG, and they're all really just singers looking for their big break anyway. Those guys tend to wear whatever will get them noticed.
"'Course it's true. C'mere."
I shuffle over to Shuichi, feeling mildly stupid about how little I know concerning anything outside of my realm of expertise. I guess I've been a rock star too long, and like any other profession, tend to not think about how other people might act.
"Here," Shuichi says, pointing to the floor in front of the bed. I step forward a bit, and let him grab hold of the shirt. He buttons it for me, starting at the top and working downwards. I feel little tugs of cloth at my ribs as he pulls my shirt, dressing me. How strange, usually people try to -undress- me. "You don't have to worry about not knowing. It's not like you've ever worked in a regular office."
Kumagoro, from his supine attitude on the bed, agrees.
I know I shouldn't be, because it was just a dream, but I'm still a little nervous talking to Kumagoro right now. This is why I'm glad he agreed to stay with Shuichi today.
That and...well...I'm still worried about Shuichi trying to hurt himself, a little.
"Shu," I say as he reaches up and straightens my collar, "You're gonna be here when I get back, right?"
"Yeah."
"Promise?"
"Of course. You don't have to worry about me. I'm going to be fine. Even though, you know, I really don't think it's a good idea about you going, and all."
"There's some things I have to sign. Recordings to approve and stuff. It's nothing important, na no da," I reply, turning to go check the results in the mirror. Not bad. I'm pretty sure I look normal. Eighty percent sure, at least. Well, sixty-five and a half percent. Who am I kidding? I have no clue.
"Won't Seguchi-san be there?"
"Probably, but he'll avoid me like I'm a match and he's gasoline."
"That's a pretty good analogy."
"I know, I think I'm going to use it in a song."
"Ah, damn, I was going to steal it."
Our conversation is interrupted by Molly's arrival. With that, I bid Shuichi goodbye, but only after making him promise two more times that he's going to be here when I get back.
Molly and I head down the elevator and out to her car. Riding in the Lexus, instead of my limo or a taxi, is always pretty fun, because I get to ride in the front, na no da, which I don't often get to do. It's totally different to get to see Tokyo coming at you from the front, instead of just watching it whiz past you on the side.
And Molly is a pretty good driver, too, which means she drives fast. (Ten is a complete slowpoke.) When people cut her off, she calls them names in English, but never exactly curses.
"You doodle-head, who taught you how to drive?"
See what I mean?
I watch Tokyo as it passes. The city has always seemed mystical to me. She is, herself, a forbidden paramour, an entity with which you can become obscenely obsessed. At turns offering exquisite delights, then scornfully casting you aside, she taunts, teases, and tempts. One person alone can never fully possess her heart. No, it takes a multitude to satisfy her desires.
And the only way to escape her eventual wrath is to change yourself, to become someone she no longer recognizes. Only then, tiptoeing and skulking through the shadows, can you find her weakness, and kill her before she kills you.
"Where'd you get your license, you cheese-packer? A Crackerjack box?"
I don't like that I'm having dreams about killing Yuki Eiri. I don't want to be the kind of person who will go to -any- lengths to get what he wants.
But what if I am, really, not in control of myself enough to stop doing the things I know are wrong? I know it was wrong to smash up Tohma's car, but at the time, I couldn't stop myself. I wasn't thinking about right or wrong, I wasn't thinking about anything except... No, that's not right, I wasn't thinking, at all. Just like when I slapped Tohma. Just like when I let Shuichi climb into my bed.
Just like when I tried to kill myself so long ago.
I always do just what I want to do. I always do what feels best at the time, instead of what I know to be right.
So, would I...
I'm glad I probably won't find out what I would do to Yuki Eiri.
"People on quaaludes shouldn't drive!"
I peer at Molly, shaken from my internal dilemmas. "Molly, how do you even know what quaaludes -are-?"
Molly's lips swish back and forth, as if she's debating giving me a straight answer. "Research. For my job," she replies quietly, looking rather embarrassed that she had to admit it.
"I don't do that sorta stuff anymore, na no da. The only pills I take are the ones you give me."
"I know, but Seguchi-san thought I should, um, know just in case."
Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
See, even Tohma doesn't have any faith in my self-control. Then again, why should he? I can't think of a single person who trusts me to stop myself before I do the wrong thing. Not Nori-chan. Not Molly. Not Ten.
Well, maybe Shuichi does. I don't know, actually.
We pull into the NG parking garage only moments later. As we head inside, I put the surgical mask on over my face.
I really don't want to have to talk to anyone I know.
I can't imagine how I look right now, without Kumagoro, all buttoned-up and hidden beneath these shades and this mask. I probably look strange. I certainly feel different.
Yes. This is good. Taking this step is good. This will be my decision. I'm going to take control of the situation. For my sake, and for Shuichi's sake. I have to make my move, so Tohma will take me seriously this time. So everyone will take me seriously.
"I'll go to your office, and get your lyric notes and some files we need," Molly says as the elevator arrives at the second floor. "Are you sure you're going to be okay alone?"
"Yeah."
She tries to give me a reassuring smile, and continues to watch me until the elevator doors fully close.
Now is the time...
To make the choice.
For a second, my finger hovers over the button for the first floor. I could always just go back downstairs, get a hamburger, and forget about it.
The music in the elevator switches from some truly revolting old Tsunami Puppets tune to Nittle Grasper's 'Shining Collection'.
That song was a lie.
Yuki Eiri wrote a lie, and Tohma made me sing it.
The button for the fourth floor lights up under the pressure of my fingertip.
There comes a time when lies must end, when the illusion must be torn away to reveal the monster underneath. I don't know Tohma anymore, and he no longer knows me. The imaginary world I've constructed must be torn down, bulldozed, demolished, to make way for something new and better.
It will be better this way, really it will.
"Red soaked fingertips dye the atmosphere with fluttering butterfly tears," my voice sings into my ears.
The door opens to reveal a long hallway, completely devoid of people. I step off of the elevator, but before the doors close, my voice says, "And all is turned to sand, shining, make you cry..."
My footsteps echo in the empty hallway as I find the door to Tohma's office. I don't even hesitate, don't knock, don't have a second thought. No. I just throw the doors open and step inside. I don't even -care- if Tohma is in here or not.
Is Tohma in here?
Yeah, he is. He's sitting on that ugly leather couch of his, talking into his cellphone. His head jerks up and he stares at me, wide-eyed. I guess he wasn't expecting I'd show up this quickly.
"Ryuichi?"
I ignore him. Instead I head straight for his desk, the notes of 'Shining Collection' still replaying over and over in my mind. Lies. So many lies. How can people lie so prettily? With smiles and sighs and words so adoring? Where do you learn to make lies like this?
I step behind the desk. In my rush, my hand slaps down on the desktop, my thick gold ring, identical to the one buried with Tomi, makes a tremendous 'pop' against the wood as I pull open the top drawer.
This noise makes Tohma flinch as he babbles something incoherent into his cellphone.
And there, laying in that mahogany drawer, is the Nittle Grasper contract, just like Tohma promised. Well, at least he tells the truth about some things. I peer at it for only a second before grabbing it. Yes. It says Nittle Grasper on it. The sunlight from the window behind me illuminates the names signed at the bottom.
In a pretty script, "Ukai Noriko".
In precise block writing, "Seguchi Tohma".
And lastly, an almost unreadable scribble of "Sakuma Ryuichi".
I hold it up for Tohma to see. His eyes narrow slightly, his hand, the one holding the cellphone, drops to the seat of the couch.
Tearing it down the middle seems to take forever, even though you know it doesn't really take more than a second or two. Time is elongated, like moments spent in an earthquake.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip.
The sound reminds me vaguely of a wrecking ball smashing into a building.
I tear the pages again and again, as many times as possible, so there can be no mistake in Tohma's mind of what I came to do. I make him watch as Nittle Grasper is torn into shreds. I make him listen as the paper says for me, 'I don't need you anymore, Seguchi Tohma. I don't need you at all.'
I head towards Tohma, feeling fire in my veins, heat in my throat. He sits quite still, not knowing exactly what to expect, I suppose. Stopping only a foot or two away from him, I look down at him, looking up at me. He's wearing his black Armani suit over a purple silk shirt, and this fact makes me smirk.
I know how this story ends.
The paper fragments I toss at Tohma flutter downwards, a thousand white butterflies of retribution seeking to stop his heart. Is it painful for you, Tohma, I wonder? Because you did this to yourself. This is what you chose the moment you decided to become involved in the affairs of the butterflies. You just had to know the forbidden secrets, of how Yuki Eiri might taste, of how he might sound, of what it might feel like, when he belonged to you, instead of Shuichi.
The retribution of the butterflies is terrible, indeed.
But it must be what you wanted, because that was the choice you made.
Without having ever said a word, I leave Tohma there, sitting covered in torn shards of the Nittle Grasper contract.
By the time I get back to the elevator, the music has changed again.
Now it's Bad Luck, and Shuichi is singing.
I hope he doesn't mind, but...
I think I'll sing along.
I'm just a fan, now. Just a fan of Bad Luck singing along with the music in the elevator. Nittle Grasper is gone. I will never sing lies again.
And you know what?
It feels good.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Molly is still going through the papers in my office by the time I return. I don't really want to sit in there. In fact, I don't really want to be in NG at all, anymore.
She doesn't ask me about what happened with Tohma. I guess she just thinks that I'll tell her when I'm ready, which I will. Instead, she hands me one of my credit cards and tells me to be careful.
I guess she can tell that I need to get some air. And dressed like this, no one is going to recognize me, anyway. Besides, Shining Collection CDs is only two blocks away.
Yes. It's really called Shining Collection CDs.
SCCDs is absolutely my most favorite store on the entire planet. It used to just be called "Rexie's" up until a few years ago, when 'Shining Collection' came out. Then the owner, Soumei Reji, affectionately known to everyone as "Rexie", asked me if he could change the name.
In return, I get free CDs for life. Well, as long as I don't pick up more than a half-dozen a week. Then I have to pay. And sometimes, I just need a lot of CDs.
A LOT of CDs.
Sixty million zillion.
Alright, not quite that many.
Not that Rexie didn't give me free CDs sometimes -before- he changed the name. He was you know, the first manager Nittle Grasper ever had. He retired a while after Tomi died, gave the contract to Tohma and K, and opened his little CD shop down the street.
I think he likes it a lot more than being a manager.
I take the elevator down to the first floor, make sure I have the mask and sunglasses on, and head out onto the street. At this time of day, Tokyo buzzes with activity. There's cars honking, people selling everything from newspapers to expensive looking knock-off jewelry, a hundred different people hurrying towards a hundred different destinations. The city smells spicy, like exotic after-shave and hot peppers, but that might just be the Thai place on the corner and the cluster of about a dozen businessmen standing around it.
Despite what I've just done, I feel somehow more free now, like I'd been carrying around giant boulders in my pockets and suddenly just figured out how to take them out. Making big decisions can do this to you, it seems.
I take my time going to SCCDs, perusing the windows at various shops, watching as a cluster of schoolgirls swoon at the front of an electronics shop that just happens to have music videos playing on the TVs. Unfortunately, they're playing that stupid Tsunami Puppets video where Red flops around on the floor in black latex.
I used to like that song.
I used to be a big Tsunami Puppets fan.
I wonder if Red got his ear patched up.
Anyway, I finally arrive at SCCD's, but not before buying a cool bracelet off of a street vendor. It's a black leather band with fluffy pink faux fur trim sewn onto the edge. I think I'll give it to Shuichi.
SCCD's isn't very big. The whole store would easily fit in my living room, but its packed ceiling to floor with every CD you could imagine. Wherever there's an inch of space left over, Rexie has flyers for local bands, posters, music magazines, and other great music paraphernalia.
The place is a feast for the ears and eyes.
The little bell on the door rings as I open it and step inside. There's thankfully few customers here today. In fact, the only one that I see is Old Rho, a local jazz musician who still collects actual vinyl records. He's got four record players. He used to have five, but I bought one of them off him a few months ago.
I wonder where I put that record player.
"Welcome to Shining Collection," Rexie says mildly listlessly from behind the counter as he turns over a new CD and squints at the back, "Can I help you find anything today?"
"Yeah, do you have a bootleg copy of the Nittle Grasper concert in Dresden, 1996?"
"Look buddy. First of all, we don't sell bootlegs. Second of all, Nittle Grasper didn't tour Europe until 1997..." Rexie puts down the CD and leans forward, his eyes becoming thin slits as he looks me up and down. Finally, he throws his hands up in the air and laughs, "Ryuichi?"
I push my sunglasses up and wink at him.
"Ryu, you...you damn imp!"
After Rexie makes his way around the counter, he barges at me, and I end up with 250lbs of ex-manager swishing me into a tight hug.
"Can't...breathe..."
"Didn't recognize you. What's up with the disguise? Where's Kumagoro? Why the hell didn't call ahead? Do you want some pizza?"
Rexie's big on asking questions and moving on before you can answer. "Can't...breathe...Rex...ie..."
"Oh, right." Rexie lets me go and clasps a firm hand on my shoulder. "Okay, let me hear it."
"Rexie," I whine, "Not that..."
"Give it to me now, or else."
I look at Old Rho for support. He just shrugs.
"Give me my goddamn 'LA', Ryuichi. I have to check your voice."
I sigh and do as he asks. We're not going to get anywhere until Rexie is satisfied that my voice checks out.
"Laaaaaaaaaaaa."
"And the next?"
"Faaalaaaalaaaaa."
"Alright, good!" Rexie shoves me in the direction of the counter. "C'mere, I got some great stuff I've been saving for you. I've even got..." Rexie rummages around in one of the drawers, "A copy of the 'I'm Afraid of Americans' single signed by both Bowie -and- Reznor."
Oh My God.
I've turned into a blubbering fangirl.
Shuichi is going to have a conniption.
Rexie sure knows how to completely annihilate a tense and exhausting day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I've got two bags of CDs, magazines, and other stuff, one in each hand, as I walk down the street back towards NG. I can't believe how much I ended up buying.
Plus, Rexie gave me a limited edition copy of 'Critical Sunshine' with the extra CD of interviews with Bad Luck. I think I'm going to get Shuichi to sign it for me. With a pink paint marker.
Or maybe one of those glitter pens.
I don't think I'll tell him about the Nittle Grasper contract, yet. Maybe next week.
While I am contemplating my purchases, and the excitement of going home to see Shuichi, I get this rather odd prickle on the back of my neck. You know, the one where you feel like something is wrong, but you just can't place what it is?
On a whim, I look over my shoulder. There's someone...in a baseball cap...and a windbreaker...
I stop
He stops.
I can't see who...
I begin to walk a little faster. Looking back again, I find that -he's- walking a little faster.
Fuck.
I break out into a run, making my way through the people, weaving in and out of the crowd. People fly past so quickly that they don't even have faces anymore. My heart pumps wildly as I look back a third time.
There's no one.
That's when I feel one of the bags in my hand being ripped away from my grasp. The thief, the same guy in the baseball cap and faded jacket, darts into an alleyway that runs along the side of NG studios. And he takes with him all the CDs, as well as the bracelet I bought for Shuichi.
That's just...not....NICE!
I duck into the alleyway, leaving the busy streets of Tokyo behind. This place smells like burning plastic. Nonetheless, it's pretty clean. There's some dumpsters, and some seriously unfixable old recording equipment lying in a big pile. Otherwise, there's nothing much here besides two walls and a concrete walkway.
My footsteps echo off of the stone edifices as I slowly make my way forward. Maybe they took the CDs but threw out the bracelet. Then, at least, I'd have something left besides just this bag of magazines.
"Sakuma-san, Sakuma-san, I've been waiting for you for days," a thick voice taunts.
"Who's there?"
The figure in the baseball cap steps halfway out from behind a dumpster, "There's such rumors at NG, right now. Where has our beloved Sakuma Ryuichi, god of music and lust been all this time? And do you know what they say? They say that he's shacked up with that utterly contemptible little whore from Bad Luck. You should have just told me that you wanted to go slumming, Sakuma-san, we could have gone together."
I know that voice. I -know- that voice.
"But, no, no, you chose -him-, that whiny little pink haired punk, over -me-. ME! Fuck, Sakuma-san, does that puny runt even -have- a dick? He looks so much like a girl...you'd think he'd had it chopped off..."
"Please don't talk about Shuichi that way," I say quietly, trying my hardest not to step backwards "And please give me back my CDs....Red."
"Fuck no. I'll consider them part of my payment for getting my goddamn ear half chewed off. And as for the rest of my payment..."
Red steps into the middle of the alleyway, and that is when I see...
The shiny aluminum baseball bat in his hand.
"I'm really going to enjoy beating the crap out of you, Sakuma-san. Your pretty face won't taunt me anymore. When I get done, I'm sure, you'll never sing again. I'll never have to envy your achievements. I'll never lay awake at night wondering what it would be like to have you, because you'll be ugly and broken, and -nobody- will want you anymore."
"You're sick. Demented. Totally insane," I say, not really paying attention. I'm trying to decide if I can make it back out of the alley, if I can run fast enough... But, no. Red is tall and lanky, completely wiry. As soon as I turn, he'll jump me.
"Sick? Demented? Insane? Aren't those just occupational hazards for us, Sakuma-san?" Red peels off his baseball cap and lets his fiery crimson hair hang down over his shoulders. He plants his feet and lifts the baseball bat. "C'mon, Ryuichi. I tell you what. If you strip out of that ridiculous outfit you're wearing, crawl over here on your hands and knees, and beg, I won't hit you in the face."
"No." I'm scared. Completely terrified. But, I'm pretty sure that doing what Red just asked isn't going to spare me any pain. He's going to beat me half to death, so I might as well save myself the humiliation.
"No?" Red snarls, and stomps his foot childishly. "NO? DON'T. YOU. EVER. TELL. ME. NO. AGAIN!!!"
I close my eyes as Red darts forward. Being hit with a baseball bat will probably be pretty bad. So, I have to prepare myself. After the first time, fall down on the ground and curl into a ball. That's what Ten always says. If someone is hurting you, curl into a ball with your hands over your face to protect your hands, face and stomach. Right? No. Except for riots at concerts, and then you're supposed to get as high off the ground as possible so you don't get trampled.
Or do I have that backwards?
Crap, I should pay more attention.
But, really, that's Kumagoro's job. Isn't it?
Yes. Being hit with a baseball bat will probably hurt a lot. I'll think of good things. Okay. Good things. Um. Coloring with Kumagoro. Tomi dancing around our apartment wearing nothing but an apron. Shuichi's smile. Yes. That's it. Shuichi's smile.
Fw-THUMP.
Click.
"What are you smiling about, idiot? Get over here and take his bat."
I open one eye, just a little, and see the most wonderfully horrible thing I could ever imagine.
Standing over the prone, and trembling body of the Tsunami Puppets' lead singer, is Yuki Eiri.
And the reason why Red is trembling...
Is because Yuki Eiri has a gun.
Now, I don't know much about guns, but what I do know is this: No matter what kind is pointed at your head, you shut up pretty quick.
"Yuki-san?" I ask, tiptoeing forward ever-so-carefully.
"The bat, Sakuma, the bat."
"Um...okay..." I step over Red's legs and bend down to pick up the bat laying only a few inches from Red's fingers. I put it over behind the dumpster, which is, of course, where I find my bag of CDs.
By the time I return, Yuki Eiri has his foot in the middle of Red's chest. Those brilliant amber eyes of Yuki-san's could drive fear into a raging lion, I think.
I really hope he doesn't shoot Red. Because that would be messy, loud, and very hard to explain.
"Now," Yuki-san says, pressing the toe of his foot into Red's sternum. "Open your mouth."
Red doesn't at first. But then Yuki-san grinds the barrel of the gun against his lips, and I guess it's either do that...or have his teeth broken off from the pressure.
I'm even more scared -now- than I was when it was just Red with a bat. Without Kumagoro to hold on to, I just clutch my shopping bags to my chest.
"Remember the taste of the end of this gun," Yuki-san says, his voice dark as night, "Because if I ever hear of you threatening Sakuma-san, or Shindou-san, ever again, I'll be coming after you. Only next time, I'll send a bullet down your throat. Got it?"
Red tries to nod, but he just ends up clacking his teeth against the gun.
"Good." Yuki-san pulls the gun out of Red's mouth, thankfully, and removes his foot from the other man's chest. After that, Yuki-san bends down, mutters something at Red that I can't hear, stands back up...
And kicks Red directly in the head.
This knocks him out.
I hope he's just knocked out. Because he isn't moving much.
No, he's breathing. I can see his chest still moving. Oh, that's a relief.
Mildly.
Yuki-san takes a deep breath, and his shoulders sag a bit as he puts the gun back in his pants, or his pocket, or wherever guns go. I can't see because his long jacket is in the way.
"Come on, Sakuma, we're leaving," he says, turning to face me, but not exactly -looking- at me. His blonde hair hangs limply in his face, and he appears to be coated in a thin sheen of sweat. I can't tell, exactly, what he wants or what he might be thinking. Yuki-san is as hard to read as Tohma, but at least with Tohma I have years of friendship upon which to rely.
I must be just standing there, staring in complete and utter confusion, because Yuki-san repeats himself. "Sakuma. Now. Let's go."
"Ano, Yuki-san..." There's practically an entire dictionary full of questions I need to ask him all the same time. They all jumble together so completely that I just end up stumbling after him as he walks towards the back of the alley. There's a dull grey door there, painted with some very important words. "To Garage."
Oh god. He's going to take me to his car, drive me out into the middle of nowhere, shoot me, and dump my body.
Maybe Yuki-san set this whole thing up. Maybe he had Red attack me just so he could get my trust and I'd follow him to his car and then...
Wait, why would Yuki-san want to kill me?
Well, except for the fact that his ex-boyfriend is living at my house.
But, if he doesn't want Shuichi anymore then, why would he even care?
"Come ON, Sakuma," Yuki-san says, grabbing my wrist and dragging me through the door. "We're going."
"Where?"
"Elsewhere."
I don't like the growl in his voice.
No, not at all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yuki-san is an even better driver than Molly. This is to say that he drives very, very, very fast. He has a nice car. It looks like brand new, but I think he's had it for a while because it has upwards of 30k kilometers on it. I wonder how he keeps it so clean. Yuki-san doesn't really seem like the type of guy who obsesses over his car. Though, I did notice an empty box of Pocky peeking out from underneath the passenger side seat. Maybe Shuichi cleans it.
I should really learn to drive. It seems like fun. Then I could just get in my car and go places. I could take Shuichi out to Yokohama to visit my parents in spring when the harbor is pretty and windy and all the posh set are out on their yachts. We could rent a boat. Wait, no, that's probably not a good idea because Kumagoro and I both get sea sick.
I wonder if Shuichi gets sea sick.
I wonder if Yuki Eiri knows or cares whether Shuichi gets sea sick.
I'm very nervous.
I'm very nervous, and I don't have Kumagoro here, and Yuki Eiri has a gun and he's driving me somewhere very fast, but I don't know where, and I can't even see his eyes because he's wearing shades, and Tohma's going to be furious, and Molly's going to be furious, and Shuichi and Ten are going to be incredibly worried.
I guess I...better say..something.
"Yuki-san," I say, fiddling with the strap on the seat belt, "Why were you there...behind NG?"
He doesn't answer.
"I mean because, I think Red would have probably beaten me pretty badly with the bat if you hadn't shown up."
Yuki Eiri's hands tighten around the steering wheel. "Don't you have a bodyguard you're supposed to stay with, idiot?"
"Yeah, but he's..." He's at my home making sure Shuichi doesn't try to throw himself off the balcony again. I'm not going to tell you that. I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of knowing how much you're hurting Shuichi. Okay, now I am a little less scared, and little more angry.
"I was smoking a cigarette out in front of NG, waiting for you. I saw that asshole pull you into the alley and followed you."
"But, how did you know I was at NG?"
"Who do you think Seguchi-kun was on the phone with when you barged into his office?"
"Oh? Oh. Right." Well, that makes sense, I guess. No. NO IT DOESN'T. It doesn't make any sense at all. Didn't he just sign a restrainy contract thing to keep Shu and I away from him? And now he came to find me?
My brain is going to explode all over Yuki-san's nice, pretty, clean car.
Ooo, the air conditioner feels good on my hands. It reminds me of Shuichi's soft little touches on my palms. His fingers sliding between mine...
Wait, no, I can't be thinking about this while I am in the car with Yuki-san. I've got to focus.
I should be focusing on where the hell we are going, so that when Yuki Eiri inevitably shoots me, I can possibly drag my nigh-lifeless body to the nearest phone.
Or hospital.
Whichever is more convenient.
But, I can't really see anything as it whizzes past. I mean, I can see it, but the buildings don't make any sense to me. Are we uptown? Are we downtown? What district are we in? I don't know. I can't tell.
I'm feeling dizzy, which is never a good sign.
Dizzy and losing even more control over everything that's happening. I don't understand. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Once I made my decision with the Nittle Grasper contract, -I- was supposed to be in control again. I took my destiny into my own hands, so...
My mind keeps flashing back to Yuki Eiri standing over Red with that gun in his hand. Guns. Are. Bad. Even -I- know that.
"Yuki-san," I say quietly, running my fingertips over the leather dashboard. Well, at least if I die, I'll die speeding down the highway surrounded by fine Italian leather. "I don't understand. Why do you have a gun?"
And why did you bring it to NG?
"You don't want to know," Yuki-san says tonelessly.
"No, I do." I take a deep breath, feeling the cool crisp car air swirl around in my lungs. I've got to try to...be... Tomi, help me be eloquent. Please. "Look, I know you think I'm an idiot. You and I, we've never exactly been friends. And, I figure that Tohma's told you about a lot of the stupid things I've done over the years. But, I'm seriously just trying to understand what is going on here. I just want to help, that's all."
Please let him believe me.
Yuki-san keeps driving. I guess he didn't believe me. Or, he just doesn't care, or...
"Where's your stuffed animal?"
"Huh?"
"That pink thing you drag around everywhere, where is it?"
I look out the window. We're going over a bridge now. The water sparkles underneath the low-hanging sun. Must be nice to be a fish. I'd like to try it sometime. You know, except for the sea sickness, and all.
"If I tell you where Kumagoro is, will you tell me why you have a gun?"
Yuki-san shrugs the smallest shrug possible. I think that is a 'yes'. I'm not exactly sure, though.
It's hard to even say it. Somehow, I feel like, just by saying it, I'm confessing to some horrible crime. "Kumagoro is with Shuichi. I left him with Shuichi, so maybe Shuichi would...feel a little better, I guess."
Even though I'm observing him carefully, there's absolutely no sign of a reaction of any sort from Yuki-san.
"So, about the gun?"
As he takes a cigarette pack out of his jacket pocket, Yuki-san makes a left turn. That's got to be hard to do, simultaneously, like that. Yuki-san bounces the box in his hand and draws out one of the cigs with his lips.
He doesn't light it, though. It just hangs there, like it helps him think.
"I bought a gun," Yuki-san says, his voice dreamlike and far away, "Because I've been thinking about killing someone."
The car pulls to a stop at a light.
And at this instant, I'm utterly afraid. Not because I'm breaking the law just by being in the car with Yuki Eiri, not because I'm being kidnapped by a man with a gun who just confessed he's thinking about murder...
But because, right then, a butterfly lands on the front window.
The most beautiful butterfly I've ever seen.
And a voice, deep, deep inside my mind whispers...
"I know how this story ends."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In Our Next Chapter: Will Ryuichi get answers? OR will he get shot? Conversely, will Ryuichi take a preemptive strike and do something horrible to Yuki? Double Glitz. Perverse acts. And a kiss that could drive a man insane.
***Author Notes:
Well, that was a pretty bad cliffhanger. Sorry. I'll try to get the next chapter out, superquick. Also, FF.net appears to be cracking down on review replies. This makes me extremely sad, because I think it is a fanfiction author's privilege and joy to answer questions in reviews and thank readers.
So, since I can't currently get a straight answer from ff.net themselves about what is okay, review-reply-wise, I'm going to post my review comments on my webpage. You can find the link in my profile, if you want to go through the trouble. I should have the ones from last chapter, and the chapter before, up by tomorrow night at the latest! Thanks again SO MUCH for all your reviews, which are like a thousand beautiful butterflies making my heart leap for joy!
Ack. Bit of a mistake on the Rexie part. Thanks for Veleda for pointing it out. I changed up the wording to make the timeline work out better.