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Chapter 8: Double Glitz
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The question begs to be asked, but I'm not going to do it. I'm not so sure I want to know who it is Yuki Eiri has been thinking about killing.
Obviously, four possibilities come immediately to mind.
One. Yuki Eiri might be considering killing me. This seems possible, since he did just show up at NG for, apparently, no other reason than to get me in his car to 'talk' to me. (We're not doing a lot of talking.) Maybe he's angry that I smashed up Tohma's car. Or, maybe he's somehow upset that I've got Shuichi living at my penthouse. But, since he pretty much beat Shuichi up and then tossed him away, I don't think wanting to kill me would make any sense.
Unless Yuki Eiri is much less sane than he lets on.
Two. Yuki Eiri has been considering killing Shuichi. Why? What could possibly drive Yuki-san to such an extreme hatred against Shu-chan? Unless, maybe, Tohma's been filling Yuki-san's head with some sorts of lies about Shuichi. Maybe that's why Yuki-san threw Shuichi out in the first place. But, what could Tohma possibly say that Yuki-san would -believe-?
Three. Yuki Eiri is thinking about killing -himself-. But, he's awful calm, cool, and collected to be contemplating suicide. I mean, I remember what I was like when -I- went down that path, and Yuki Eiri seems to be the same as he ever was. Why would he purposefully push Shuichi away, start sleeping with Tohma, and then shoot himself? Unless he feels guilty. But, seriously, if he feels guilty, why not just -stop- sleeping with Tohma, confess his wrongdoing to Shu-chan, and try to pick up the pieces? I know Shuichi would be angry, but he'd probably forgive Yuki-san in time.
Four. Yuki Eiri, possibly, just possibly, might be thinking about killing Tohma. I'm not sure why I think this may be a possibility, I just do. Maybe Tohma is capable of worse things than I've considered. Maybe my ex-best-friend has Yuki Eiri under his sway somehow, like...with blackmail or...drugs or...some strange sex thing.
But, no. Tohma's not like -that-.
I mean, sure, he's been acting like a complete jerk, recently, but he's not -that- cruel.
Is he?
I've been watching too much TV. My imagination must be running away with me.
But, if it isn't one of those four possibilities, then who? Who else is involved? K? Mika-san? Hiroshi-kun? Nori-chan?
What the hell is his motivation? There's always -motivation-. On TV, the lawyers always discover it right before the person on the witness stand breaks out into tears and confesses that, yes, yes, they did kill so-and-so. But, goddamnit, it was a crime of passion!
So, yes, the question BEGS to be asked, but I'm not asking it.
Without all these possibilities, I can come to only one conclusion.
Zombies.
No. More likely aliens.
Aliens are using their mind control rays on all of us. They're drinking up Shuichi's emotions. They're interfering with my thoughts and making me lose focus all the time. They've installed some sort of remote-control device on Tohma. And aliens, yes, definitely aliens, are instructing Yuki Eiri to kill someone.
Aliens. It's the only logical explanation.
Sigh. Now I sound like my bodyguard.
Yuki Eiri hasn't said a word since the stoplight, the one when the butterfly landed. We're deep in the heart of a rather interesting district. It looks familiar, like I've been here before...a long time ago...and just can't place it.
Wait, no. I think Tomi and I came to a club around here, once. It was right after Nittle Grasper's first CD started to make it big. There was a dance club. Oh, what was it called?
Monarch's.
That's right. It had a butterfly theme. How could I forget? Neither Tomi or I had ever been to a rave before, and we got seriously blitzed. There was a foam room and...
Ohhhh. Right. That was nice.
"You're thinking about that guy."
I turn, so slowly, to see Yuki Eiri watching me out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers for some time before he returns to watching the road.
"What?"
"Tomi. You're thinking about him."
"H..how did you know?"
Yuki-san flicks his cigarette out the window with one sharp twist of his wrist. "I'm a romance novelist. It's my job to watch the world, to watch people, to carefully study how they react to one another. You used to smile like that when he walked in a room. After...after he was gone, you never smiled like that anymore. Except once. Once I saw it again."
"When?"
The car is suddenly completely still. Yuki-san pulls the keys out of the ignition and opens his door. I've been so engrossed in what's going on inside the car, I didn't even notice that we've pulled into a parking-lot. "C'mon, idiot. We're going. And put the surgical mask back on."
I open the door and stumble out, pulling the mask back up and sliding my sunglasses down. Yuki Eiri is already halfway across the parkinglot, so I have to run to catch up.
In front of us is a...bar? Or is it a club? The neon sign above the columns painted to resemble Greek architecture reads "Double Glitz". There's two rather burly bouncers standing on the well-worn red carpet leading up to the glass doors, sharing a cigarette and ashing into an absolutely pathetic looking fern. A positively tiny woman, who I can only deduce must be some sort of hostess, bows deeply to Yuki-san as he approaches.
"Ah, you've finally arrived. We're so glad to have you with us, as always. Oh, and you have company? Wonderful. Wonderful. The usual room, then? Right this way, sirs."
Beyond the glass doors, there's a standard foyer. Yuki-san and I both slip off our shoes and are taken around a wall to a staircase on the side of an open restaurant room. I linger behind slightly, looking down at the room as I make my way up the stairs. The glow from the red glass around the candles on the tables bathes the entire place in brilliant crimson. It seems everyone is drinking white wine or champagne tonight, the candlelight shattering into a million pieces as it passes through the flutes and lands on the linen tablecloths. Beyond the tables, there is a rather sizeable stage, currently hidden by a red curtain of faux velvet.
And yet, beyond this, I get the impression that the class on the outset merely hides something more seedy beyond. The carpet just isn't clean enough, with occasional dark spots where this-or-that didn't come out with a light shampooing. And the walls are just a little too barren, lacking any sort of relevant art or design.
There's all sorts of clients, from businessmen to...
Hey. Is that Gackt?
That...really...looks like...
And, I think sitting at the table by the stage is one of the actors from that daytime drama that Molly likes.
Come to think of it...there...over there in the corner...isn't that the host of that hilarious game show...
"C'mon idiot. We're waiting on you."
I bound up the last few steps. The hostess leads us down a hallway and ushers Yuki and I into yet another, but much smaller, dimly lit private room with a low table. There's red satin pillows lining the walls, which all seem to contain cabinets of various sorts.
Yuki-san nods to the hostess and takes a seat. For myself, I'm utterly confused and just...stand there.
Yuki Eiri didn't want to kill me? He was taking me to dinner?
"I'm Mitsu," the hostess says, bowing to me. "If there is anything you need during your stay with us, please do not hesitate to ask. Now, can I bring you gentlemen drinks?"
"The usual," Yuki-san declares, fishing once again for his cigarettes.
"And you, sir?"
"Um. Orange soda?"
Yuki-san's lighter flickers, causing the shadows in the room to shift slightly. "Bring him a screwdriver, heavy on the vodka."
"No, I..."
"That -is- what you drink, isn't it?"
How does he -know- that?
Mitsu smiles and nods. Apparently she takes orders from Yuki-san, despite what she said. "And the rest shall be as you discussed over the phone, Yuki-san?"
Yuki-san had -reservations- for this place?
With a slight nod of his head, Yuki Eiri agrees and dismisses Mitsu, all in one fluid motion. She slides the door closed behind her, leaving me with perhaps the most enigmatic man since...
Well, since me.
"Don't just stand there. Sit down, baka."
Seeing few other options, I do as he says. Sitting alone, here in this badly-lit room with Yuki Eiri just isn't right. The silence is stifling, and with a lack of anything better to do, I pull down my mask and start twirling my sunglasses in my fingers.
I wish Kumagoro was here.
I wish Shuichi was here.
No, I don't. I really don't.
"You don't drink anymore?" Yuki-san finally asks.
The sudden change to conversation startles me, and my sunglasses clack against the table. "Ano, not really. No. I try not to drink much."
"Why?"
I look at the wall, hoping that there will be something there to catch my interest and let me avoid the question. Unfortunately, there isn't. "Nothing good ever comes of it."
"What does come of it?"
Is he trying to get under my skin? What is -with- this line of questioning? I've got to turn the conversation back around. There are things I need to know.
"You know, Yuki-san, I don't see how talking about my drinking habits are going to..."
"What happened when you drank?" Yuki Eiri reiterates. His voice isn't forceful, exactly, or threatening. It's just...demanding. I wish I could see his eyes. I wish I knew...where he was going with this.
"A lot of people got hurt. People that didn't deserve it. And I...also...sometimes got hurt, too."
"There are people who deserve to be hurt?"
I wonder if I can hide underneath this table. It's pretty low to the ground, but I think I can get under there. Somehow, Yuki Eiri can make me feel like I need to crawl into a hole, just by asking questions.
I don't answer the question. It's not exactly the kind of question you can answer. Instead, I bend over and look underneath the table.
Maybe there's a clue down there.
"You're a real idiot," Yuki Eiri says, finally ashing the cigarette that has been hanging from his mouth for the past few minutes. "Even dumber than I always thought."
"You shouldn't listen to everything Tohma says."
"Are you kidding? Tohma practically worships the ground you walk on. I don't need him to know how much of an idiot you are."
"Okay," I say, popping my head up again, "Let's talk about Tohma. Why? Why would you toss away Shuichi, why would you do this to someone who loves you -so- much? Is it for Tohma? Did Tohma do something to you?"
Finally, finally, I get a reaction out of Yuki Eiri. It isn't much, but I see the corners of his lips downturn, and he winces. On the other hand, he could just be squinting. It is hard to see in here.
"Tohma did nothing. I just don't need that little brat around anymore."
"But, you said you loved him! I heard it! I heard it on the phone!"
There's a tap on the paper door, interrupting the conversation. Mitsu brings in our drinks and leaves again. The atmosphere in the room hangs dark, like a storm cloud threatening to break.
Shuichi called me a storm cloud once. Oh, Shu-chan, I'm so sorry. I bet you're so worried right now.
I drink practically the entire double screwdriver in a half-dozen gulps or less. It's a wonder that Shu-chan hasn't been turned into a raging drunk over the past few years. I can really see where living with Yuki Eiri would drive you to become a booze hound.
Oh god, I've missed hard liquor. This is quality vodka, too. You can tell by the smoothness. It slides down your throat, silky sweet, the tang of the orange juice...
Oranges. Tomi smelled of oranges and old books. Yes. That's why I don't drink screwdrivers anymore.
"Look, Yuki-san," I say, placing the glass on the table carefully. "I have to know. Why did you sleep with Tohma? Do you love him?"
The question fuels the fire behind his amber eyes. Luminescent against the candlelight, burning like hot coals, I can almost imagine what Shuichi might see in Yuki.
And then the fire extinguishes, completely and thoroughly, leaving no trace, not even a smolder, not even smoke. Yuki Eiri looks down and to the left, considering the beer in his hand.
"Love is a disease, and I am, fortunately, immune. All that matters is having someone to fuck, and where that is concerned, one warm body is as good as the next, I suppose."
He's lying to me. I'm sure of it.
Alright, alright, I'm not sure. But he sounds -too- certain, as if he had been thinking about how to answer that question for a long time.
"You don't believe that. You have to love Shuichi. It's just not fair if you don't." I can't believe this. I'm actually trying to convince the ex-boyfriend of the person I'm falling for to confess his love. Is this right or wrong? I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE.
I should jump Yuki Eiri, get that gun and blow my own damn brains out.
Ooo, Ryu-chan, that's dark. That's real dark. I don't think you need go "go there".
"Fair?" Yuki Eiri slams his beer down on the table, "How can you, of all people, think that life is fair? Your lover was ripped away from you before you even had a chance to really begin your life together. If you still believe life is fair, his death must have fucked you up more than anyone knows."
Why is it that every conversation I have these days gets turned back around to focus on Tomi's death and my subsequent breakdown?
"Tomi taught me to never give up on love, Yuki-san. You don't have to give up on Shu..."
My winning speech to turn Yuki Eiri's heart from coal to mush is interrupted by a slight rap on the paper door.
More drinks?
That would be nice but...
Suddenly, I feel dizzy.
And I am not talking about the usual kind of dizzy. Not the kind I am familiar with, where the world is pressing in on me, where the room buzzes and vibrates, taunting me with flickering hallucinations of the past and a very gruesome possible future. No, this is more....
Placid and glowing and...oh...
I feel pretty.
"Enter," Yuki Eiri commands, putting any stop to our conversation.
The paper door slides open, the sound reminding me of a dull xylophone note.
Backlit from the hallway, I see the silhouette of a person who is definitely not Mitsu-san. Thin and wispy body, with a mop of hair tumbling in a million different directions. Giant black boots with scores of buckles clinging to trim calves. Silken thighs disappearing into shorts that must be three sizes too big. Svelte hips. Firm stomach. A black mesh shirt that reveals a delicious chest. Strappy arm warmers clinging to wiry arm muscles.
He steps into the room, letting the red glow of candlelight reveal the rest. Pink hair with blue highlights. A little purple eyebrow ring. And that face...the face I adore...
I lean forward in both awe and horror.
Shuichi?
I don't understand. What is going on? Why is he here? His eyes. If I can just see them, then I will know. I need to see his...
Wait.
When did Shuichi get a haircut?
How is he wearing boots like that with his feet still all cut up?
And, where are Shuichi's bruises?
But, most of all...
Why is he smiling at me, instead of at Yuki Eiri?
No. This isn't Shuichi. Shuichi isn't this. He's not so confident. Not so quiet. If this were Shu, by now he would be screaming.
This is someone made up to -look- like Shindou Shuichi.
I glance at Yuki Eiri. And besides the fact that he currently looks -fuzzy-, I can't discern any change in him whatsoever. He's not even looking at this -person- who just entered the room. He's just sitting there, eyeballing his beer.
"You're Sakuma Ryuichi, aren't you?" That is -definitely- not Shuichi's voice. Shu-chan's voice is cotton candy and swimming pools. This person's voice is hot candle wax and pliant plastic. I should know. I have an ear for voices.
Nonetheless, I'm transfixed. I may not even be breathing. The way he sways as he steps forward. The way his head tilts backward as he shakes his hair out of his face, exposing the most luscious expanse of throat. It's like he swallowed Shuichi whole and only lets the most sensuous parts escape.
What is happening here? I don't...I can't...understand this... As he closes the door, my fingers tingle at the gush of air which runs over my skin, disco electric, spider web soft... The world is so beautiful, coated in a delicate veil of tenuous glamour. All my thoughts have just been sent to such a lovely oblivion.
"Yes, I'm...Ryu..." I manage to squeak after -forever-.
"You're even prettier in person," he says, kneeling diagonal from me at the table. Up close like this, if I concentrate, I can see the differences. His eyes are a little smaller than Shuichi's, his ears a little higher, his hands not quite as delicate. But, for some reason, my eyes refuse to stay completely focused. "I've brought you another drink."
Is Yuki Eiri even -in- this room, anymore?
Clink.
Yup. That's the sound of his beer bottle on the table...I think.
The fake Shuichi brings the glass to his mouth, catching the tiny red straw with his lips. His eyes close as he tastes the screwdriver, and he only opens them again as the straw slides back out. "Mmmm," he coos, placing the drink in front of me, "You know what they say about men who drink screwdrivers, Ryu-chan?"
"Nnn..no. What?"
"They are gods of desire trying to hide beneath the soft veneer of innocence. Just like the vodka hides behind the orange juice."
I...can't...look...away. This creature is fascinating. Even though I know he isn't Shuichi. Even though I know Yuki Eiri is watching every millimeter of movement I make... I just...can't...look away.
I can feel every inch of my own skin, from my toes to the top of my head, as if I've completely lost the ability to block out sensory input. Even this plain white cotton shirt feels filmy and slinky against my torso. Even my socks seem to be lapping at my toes with tiny tongues of feather.
All I can think of is...
Oh my GOD, what is this guy doing with his lips? He's biting his bottom one ever so lightly, letting it slip slowly from his teeth. I watch as the flesh pops back into place, full and plump, utterly succulent.
I want to taste that.
No. I can't do this. I won't do this. Yuki Eiri will know and then he'll think that Shu and I...that we...
And then I feel it, my hand trapped between the cool table and infinite warmth. The imposter flicks his thumbnail against my wrist, bringing back a flood of memories of Shuichi's playful touches. Surprised, I look down at my imprisoned fingers, my shoulders going momentarily rigid as I flinch.
This is wrong. This is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
But...
If I can't have Shuichi, can't I at least...
There is breath against the side of my face. When I look up again, I find that the imposter has leaned in close, Tingles follow warmth, sliding up my jaw, as he heats my ear with teasing words. "Do I...remind you of someone, Ryuichi?"
"I..." Something is caught in my throat. Oh, that's right, it's my sanity. How did it get -there-?
I wonder how long it will be until Yuki Eiri draws his gun and puts me out of this beautiful misery.
"It's alright," the imposter's voice purrs into my ear, causing my entire world to practically vibrate with intensity, "I can be...just who you want me to be. So, tell me."
This time, I manage even less of a word. I merely expel a deep breath.
And then I find myself sucking air back in as the fake Shuichi's lips graze gently against my earlobe. My entire ego is shocked into silence as Sakuma Ryuichi ceases to be.
I'm simply...
It's simply...so...
I must have more. Please, more.
Instinctively, I tilt my head, exposing my neck. I'm rewarded with trembling wisps of kisses all the way from my ear to my collarbone. Then he makes his way back up, more slowly, taking his time to dart his tongue out to taste my flesh. It's like a taser blast, shooting directly into my spine, ripping the last few still-slumbering nerve endings from their beds.
And, oh, God help me, God forgive me...but, I moan.
"Who am I...Ryu-chan?"
Please, please...help me...
"Just one word, and I can help you."
Help me. I'm not strong enough...to keep myself...from...
A tongue tracing my earlobe, tugging at my earrings, whispering urgent words into my soul. "Just say my name...and I will be real."
I can't stop myself. I'm too weak. Even though Yuki Eiri is watching...I can't stop myself. I've failed you.
And then, without warning, I hear myself whimper, "Shuichi. Please...please be...Shu..."
These lips, pressing against mine, rewarding me, damning me, coax away all the pain. He catches my bottom lip, sliding it between his teeth, just as he did with his own. nibbling on it, worrying at it, luxuriously playful, temptingly wicked.
This is Shuichi. This is Shuichi wanting me. This is Shuichi wanting me to want him.
These are Shuichi's hands in my hair, pulling me closer. This is Shuichi's mouth, parting his lips, welcoming me with his tongue, inviting me to partake. Inviting me to the secret place, where I can forget...everything bad about myself, about the world. This is Shuichi making me perfect.
Please, let it be true.
I kiss him deeply, wanting everything at once, to taste, to smell, to feel. This is me, loving him, and betraying him, all in the same instant. As I dip my tongue into his mouth, seeking out all the wondrous treasures contained within, teeth, saliva, tongue, the slickness of the inner cheek, the roughness of the roof of the mouth, I only vaguely register the sound of Yuki Eiri's lighter.
At that same instant, I finally recognize the taste that has been slowly absorbing into my tongue.
He tastes...
Distinctly...
Of oranges.
Although I know (or should have known, if I were rational) it's just the aftertaste from the sip of screwdriver, my eyes shoot open.
Oranges. Oranges. Just like...
Like Tomi.
Oh my god, what have I done?
This isn't Shuichi. And this isn't right. No, this is very...very...very wrong.
I'm pushing him away, as horrified at the loss of my fantasy as I am at my own actions. I'm stumbling across the table, knocking things over, trying to find my feet, trying to get as far away from what I've done as possible. But, for some reason, I can't seem to make sense of the world. It's all colors and light, shapes and squiggles. I have to get away...from this...from the imposter and from...
Yuki Eiri.
Oh Shuichi... oh no, Shuichi, what have I done?
"Where are you going, idiot? Get back here!" I no longer can move forward. I'm caught on...something. I struggle helplessly, unable to comprehend where the resistance is coming from. From very close by, Yuki Eiri says, "We're not finished talking yet, Sakuma."
But the only word falling from my lips, over and over, is "Why?" Why did Yuki Eiri do this? Why did I fall for it? Why can't I be as strong as I want? Why did Tohma have to be right? Why did I... Why did I...have to be so greedy?
I feel something at my back, a twisting sensation, and that is when I realize that Yuki Eiri has ahold of the back of my shirt. He leans in close, a demonic entity that I can't see, pushing a horrible voice into my brain, "You've slept with him, haven't you? I saw the way you flinched when your hand was touched."
"No, I..."
I feel myself being pushed forward, almost roughly. On the other hand, it could be Yuki Eiri is just trying to keep me upright. My knees are weak, and I don't think I could be standing on my own anymore. "Fine. If you want him, you can have him. When he goes to America, you go with him. And don't ever come back to Japan, either of you. Do you understand me, Sakuma? Don't -ever- bring Shuichi back to Japan. Say you understand."
"I..." But, I don't understand. I don't want this to happen to Shuichi. "Yuki-san...why...WHY?"
"Love," he says as his grip on my shirt loosens, allowing me to collapse, slowly, into a heap. I feel my cheek on the floor. I feel myself becoming a puddle of air. The last thing I hear before the world grows completely dim, is Yuki Eiri kneeling down next to me. And then, with his hand resting on my back, he continues, "Love is a horrible, intolerable thing. I don't want to see it."
Blackness engulfs me, a maelstrom into a void. Nothingness, beautiful nothingness, takes me away from this nightmare as a whisper falls into my heart.
"I don't want Shuichi's eyes...
...haunting me."
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"Shit, he's a mess. Ten, will you run a bath? Shindou-san, if you could help me get him out of these clothes."
I feel a tugging on my feet and hear distinct footsteps moving away from me.
"Shit, shit, shit. What did you get yourself into, Sakuma-san?"
Is that Molly? Is that her...cursing?
"I think he's okay, Molly-san. Just a little dirty."
A touch on my wrist. "His pulse is absolutely crazy." A hand on my forehead. "And he's burning up."
"Should we call the doctor?"
"No, Shindou-san, that would probably be a bad idea."
How am I here? Is this a dream? Wasn't I just in that place...that bizarre restaurant...with Yuki Eiri...and...
Shuichi.
My eyes flutter open and then immediately close again. I regroup, and try once more. There's a lot of light in here. Buckets and buckets of light. Shadowy things move in the periphery of my vision. And...hm...yes, this is the back of my couch I see, and beyond it, my blue walls painted like sky. The blood pulsing through my veins feels like tiny grains of sugar in syrup. Sugar blood.
"You're awake!" Shuichi's face, the -real- Shuichi's face, hovers over mine, smiling widely, "Can you hear me, Ryu-chan?"
Damn. I have to bite my tongue as a flood of needs, wants, visions, memories, joys, and fears all flood into my brain at the same time. What have I done, Shuichi? What horrible things...that I didn't even know I was capable of doing? The Pandora's Box that I have opened can never be closed again.
"Can you see me?"
I try to reply, but the words become a strangled gurgle in my throat. Shuichi is really, really, really pretty, na no da. If the fake one was nice, I can't even imagine what it would be like to...
No, stop. STOP!
I find myself recoiling from Shuichi, pushing my head back into the cushion of the couch, trying to will myself to not think about his lips at all.
"Ryu-chan?"
I finally manage a dry whisper from between parched lips. Geez, I'm thirsty. "Shu...Shu..." I murmur it over and over as he wraps his arms around me, giving me a tight hug. His face crushes into my neck, reminding me of the kisses someone else placed there what seems like only minutes ago.
"I was so worried about you," he says, his voice tiny and scared, which makes me feel even smaller and -more- scared. He pulls away, but grabs my hand and continues to babble, "We were all so worried about you. Molly-san looked everywhere for you. She couldn't find you anywhere. She talked to that friend of yours at SCCD's, who said you'd been there, but after that you disappeared. And we...I just didn't know what to do, Ryuichi, I didn't know what to do."
"How did I...get here? I don't...remember anything."
"We don't know. The concierge got an anonymous phone call that said you were outside. When he went and looked, you were passed out against the front of the building, clutching two bags from SCCD's."
Well, at least Yuki Eiri had the decency not to alert Shuichi to his presence. This, unfortunately, doesn't make my encounter with him any less confusing.
"Where were you, Ryuichi? Where did you go? I thought you left, like you didn't like me anymore and I was troubling you by being here and I thought you were mad at me, maybe..."
"No, Shu, that's not it at -all-. I..."
What can I tell him? 'I was mugged and almost beaten with a baseball bat by the lead singer of one of your favorite bands. And then, I was rescued by your gun-wielding ex-boyfriend, only to be kidnapped and driven across town. Once there, he showed me a sexy replica of you, which I, like an idiot, kissed, destroying any hope of your lover coming back to you, because now he thinks we're sleeping together.' I can't say that! I can't tell him the truth! But, it is -far- too hard to lie to Shuichi. So, instead, I just stare at him, watching as his smile slowly slips away, watching as he realizes something is wrong. Or, at least, more wrong than he previously assumed.
Thankfully, my personal assistant comes to the rescue.
"Shindou-san, would you go help Ten with the bath? And maybe find Sakuma-san's robe, too, please?"
"Okie doke!" (How is it that he can immediately go from looking forlorn to being completely genki? Oh wait, I do that, too.)
Shuichi hops up, disappearing from view for only a moment before returning. He presses a familiar friend into the crook of my arm. "Kumagoro and I," Shuichi says, pulling off the most reassuring smile imaginable, "Are so glad you're home."
As Shuichi leaves, Kumagoro starts in on me, too. Where did I go? What did I do? Why didn't I bring him anything? Why is my arm so warm?
I can only groan and turn my head to the side. The room spins around, like I'm on skates in a roller rink. Even though Kumagoro says my arm is hot, my flesh feels clammy and cold. I must be sweating.
I see Molly's face swim into view. She's sitting on the coffee table, looking down at me, her lips pursed, her eyebrows wrinkled in concern. "Sakuma-san," she says quietly, putting her fingers against my wrist once again, "I'm not angry, okay? But, I have to know what you took."
"Ww...what?"
"It's no good, Ryuichi. I know you are on something. Your pupils are dilated, your heart is racing... I know all the signs." Molly's face contracts, as if she is fighting tears or at least the urge to yell at me. "You said you weren't doing this anymore. You can't do this anymore. Do you want to end up in the hospital again?"
Possibly. At least they don't really make me -think- in the hospital.
"But, I didn't take anything, Molly, I swear. I swear on Kumagoro's ears, I didn't."
"Please don't lie, Sakuma-san."
"I just had one drink, na no da, that's all."
Molly's eyes narrow as she leans forward, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Where did you get the alcohol, Ryuichi?"
I'm shivering now. I wrap my arms around myself as my teeth grind. I can't stop my jaw from clenching and unclenching. "Someone...gave...me..."
And, then I finally realize...
Yuki Eiri put something in my drink. He drugged me.
What can I say?
I'm slow, sometimes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I'm naked, and very cold. It's bright in here. My stomach feels a bit queasy. But none of this discomfort can compare with the things I see when I close my eyes. I don't want to close my eyes, not at all.
"Okay, Sakuma-san, into the tub."
I don't move, because I can't, really. So, Ten grabs me by my upper arm and helps me into the bath. Oh, much warmer. There's lots of fluffy bubbles, which pop against my skin, making me grind my teeth even more.
Shuichi comes in, carrying a load of fluffy purple towels. "Ooo, bubblebath! Fun." He sits down on the closed toilet after putting his load of towels on the counter. "I'll sit with him, Ten-san," Shuichi says to my rather worried looking bodyguard.
Ten grunts in response, though not particularly angrily, and leaves after bending over to whisper a few things to Shuichi. Probably something like 'Don't let him drown,' I'm guessing.
Oh, I feel sorta floaty.
After Ten leaves, Shuichi begins to hum. It's a song I don't recognize for once, something windy and cheerful. Unable to sit still, he goes over and re-positions Kuma-chan on the shelf.
I just don't know what to say to him. I can't think straight, not that I ever really can. But, right now, my thoughts are just jumping all over the place.
Yuki-san drugged me. Yuki-san...said a lot of mean things but...I think maybe he's...hurting, somehow. He wouldn't have set all that up if he didn't want to find out about... Which means he's jealous, maybe. And, if he's jealous, it means he still wants Shuichi. And even if he's angry now because I'm in love with Shu, it still doesn't explain why he hurt Shuichi in the first place. Or why it seems so important to him that -both- Shuichi and I leave Japan...
Why couldn't I have been a robot, instead of a rock singer? Robots don't have emotions. And besides, giant robots can shoot lasers out of their eyes. If I had that, people would definitely tell me the truth, or I'd fry them where they stood.
"You feeling a little better?" Shuichi asks, sitting back down on the closed toilet. I have an American-style bathroom, by the way, very luxurious. If you're going to do anything with your money, I say, get a good bathroom. Because, when you're up all night vomiting, an American toilet is much more comfortable to lean on than a Japanese one.
"Shuichi, I..." I close my eyes. I don't want to look. But the visions swimming in my head force me to open my eyes once again. "I did something bad."
Shuichi slides off the toilet onto his knees. With a small smile, he dislodges my hand, which had been previously clutching the side of the tub. Slipping his fingers through mine, he whispers, "That's okay. We all do, sometimes, you know. We all fuck up."
"No, Shu, you don't understand..."
"Shh," he says, leaning down to press his cheek against my fingers. Wow. That's even softer than the bubbles. He's got to use some sort of face cream, because it's just unnatural for skin to be that soft. "Right now, you don't have to worry about anything. Tonight, we're not going to think about that. I give you permission, okay? Permission not to worry for one night. You can tell me what happened tomorrow, or the next day, whenever you feel better."
And this is why I adore you, Shindou Shuichi.
Because after you said that, after you forgave me for worrying you, without so many words, after you lifted the burden from my shoulders like it didn't weigh anything at all, after you smiled like you hadn't just been dragged through ditches full of emotional razor blades over the past few days...
You winked at me, and said...
"Well, if you are all on drugs and stuff, we might as well have fun. How about some hot chocolate?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In Our Next Chapter: A hangover to end all hangovers. Hiro shows up. And then, just as it seems like everything is calming down, there's a knock on the door in the middle of the night. Seguchi Tohma is a mess. Will Ryuichi turn him away? Or will he go to the one place he hates more than any other, just to help a man with whom he's ended his friendship? In the next chapter of Pianissimo Butterfly, the truth is finally revealed. And Ryuichi learns that one man can love someone, with such incredible completeness, to go to any lengths to save him. A love that transcends mortality, a love...that would make Tomi proud.
***Author Notes:
The next chapter isn't the last chapter, but it may be the second to the last, depending on how verbose I am.
This chapter was a lot of fun to write. I'm pretty sure the next chapter is going to be hellish, so it may take a while.
I got the chapter 5 review responses up on my webpage, but I haven't done chapter 6 or 7's yet. I should get around to them early in the week, though. (I hope.) Please forgive me for falling behind on that. I've been trying to crank out the fic at a speed that keeps everyone interested. Please don't think that I'm ignoring you, it isn't like that at all. I -adore- your reviews, and I am so thankful to everyone who keeps reading, despite how confusing the story can be at times. So, a thousand thank-yous to you all from me...and the Ryuichi in my head.
***Glossary:
Ano: Um.
Genki: Energetic/healthy. Full of bounce.
Chapter 8: Double Glitz
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The question begs to be asked, but I'm not going to do it. I'm not so sure I want to know who it is Yuki Eiri has been thinking about killing.
Obviously, four possibilities come immediately to mind.
One. Yuki Eiri might be considering killing me. This seems possible, since he did just show up at NG for, apparently, no other reason than to get me in his car to 'talk' to me. (We're not doing a lot of talking.) Maybe he's angry that I smashed up Tohma's car. Or, maybe he's somehow upset that I've got Shuichi living at my penthouse. But, since he pretty much beat Shuichi up and then tossed him away, I don't think wanting to kill me would make any sense.
Unless Yuki Eiri is much less sane than he lets on.
Two. Yuki Eiri has been considering killing Shuichi. Why? What could possibly drive Yuki-san to such an extreme hatred against Shu-chan? Unless, maybe, Tohma's been filling Yuki-san's head with some sorts of lies about Shuichi. Maybe that's why Yuki-san threw Shuichi out in the first place. But, what could Tohma possibly say that Yuki-san would -believe-?
Three. Yuki Eiri is thinking about killing -himself-. But, he's awful calm, cool, and collected to be contemplating suicide. I mean, I remember what I was like when -I- went down that path, and Yuki Eiri seems to be the same as he ever was. Why would he purposefully push Shuichi away, start sleeping with Tohma, and then shoot himself? Unless he feels guilty. But, seriously, if he feels guilty, why not just -stop- sleeping with Tohma, confess his wrongdoing to Shu-chan, and try to pick up the pieces? I know Shuichi would be angry, but he'd probably forgive Yuki-san in time.
Four. Yuki Eiri, possibly, just possibly, might be thinking about killing Tohma. I'm not sure why I think this may be a possibility, I just do. Maybe Tohma is capable of worse things than I've considered. Maybe my ex-best-friend has Yuki Eiri under his sway somehow, like...with blackmail or...drugs or...some strange sex thing.
But, no. Tohma's not like -that-.
I mean, sure, he's been acting like a complete jerk, recently, but he's not -that- cruel.
Is he?
I've been watching too much TV. My imagination must be running away with me.
But, if it isn't one of those four possibilities, then who? Who else is involved? K? Mika-san? Hiroshi-kun? Nori-chan?
What the hell is his motivation? There's always -motivation-. On TV, the lawyers always discover it right before the person on the witness stand breaks out into tears and confesses that, yes, yes, they did kill so-and-so. But, goddamnit, it was a crime of passion!
So, yes, the question BEGS to be asked, but I'm not asking it.
Without all these possibilities, I can come to only one conclusion.
Zombies.
No. More likely aliens.
Aliens are using their mind control rays on all of us. They're drinking up Shuichi's emotions. They're interfering with my thoughts and making me lose focus all the time. They've installed some sort of remote-control device on Tohma. And aliens, yes, definitely aliens, are instructing Yuki Eiri to kill someone.
Aliens. It's the only logical explanation.
Sigh. Now I sound like my bodyguard.
Yuki Eiri hasn't said a word since the stoplight, the one when the butterfly landed. We're deep in the heart of a rather interesting district. It looks familiar, like I've been here before...a long time ago...and just can't place it.
Wait, no. I think Tomi and I came to a club around here, once. It was right after Nittle Grasper's first CD started to make it big. There was a dance club. Oh, what was it called?
Monarch's.
That's right. It had a butterfly theme. How could I forget? Neither Tomi or I had ever been to a rave before, and we got seriously blitzed. There was a foam room and...
Ohhhh. Right. That was nice.
"You're thinking about that guy."
I turn, so slowly, to see Yuki Eiri watching me out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers for some time before he returns to watching the road.
"What?"
"Tomi. You're thinking about him."
"H..how did you know?"
Yuki-san flicks his cigarette out the window with one sharp twist of his wrist. "I'm a romance novelist. It's my job to watch the world, to watch people, to carefully study how they react to one another. You used to smile like that when he walked in a room. After...after he was gone, you never smiled like that anymore. Except once. Once I saw it again."
"When?"
The car is suddenly completely still. Yuki-san pulls the keys out of the ignition and opens his door. I've been so engrossed in what's going on inside the car, I didn't even notice that we've pulled into a parking-lot. "C'mon, idiot. We're going. And put the surgical mask back on."
I open the door and stumble out, pulling the mask back up and sliding my sunglasses down. Yuki Eiri is already halfway across the parkinglot, so I have to run to catch up.
In front of us is a...bar? Or is it a club? The neon sign above the columns painted to resemble Greek architecture reads "Double Glitz". There's two rather burly bouncers standing on the well-worn red carpet leading up to the glass doors, sharing a cigarette and ashing into an absolutely pathetic looking fern. A positively tiny woman, who I can only deduce must be some sort of hostess, bows deeply to Yuki-san as he approaches.
"Ah, you've finally arrived. We're so glad to have you with us, as always. Oh, and you have company? Wonderful. Wonderful. The usual room, then? Right this way, sirs."
Beyond the glass doors, there's a standard foyer. Yuki-san and I both slip off our shoes and are taken around a wall to a staircase on the side of an open restaurant room. I linger behind slightly, looking down at the room as I make my way up the stairs. The glow from the red glass around the candles on the tables bathes the entire place in brilliant crimson. It seems everyone is drinking white wine or champagne tonight, the candlelight shattering into a million pieces as it passes through the flutes and lands on the linen tablecloths. Beyond the tables, there is a rather sizeable stage, currently hidden by a red curtain of faux velvet.
And yet, beyond this, I get the impression that the class on the outset merely hides something more seedy beyond. The carpet just isn't clean enough, with occasional dark spots where this-or-that didn't come out with a light shampooing. And the walls are just a little too barren, lacking any sort of relevant art or design.
There's all sorts of clients, from businessmen to...
Hey. Is that Gackt?
That...really...looks like...
And, I think sitting at the table by the stage is one of the actors from that daytime drama that Molly likes.
Come to think of it...there...over there in the corner...isn't that the host of that hilarious game show...
"C'mon idiot. We're waiting on you."
I bound up the last few steps. The hostess leads us down a hallway and ushers Yuki and I into yet another, but much smaller, dimly lit private room with a low table. There's red satin pillows lining the walls, which all seem to contain cabinets of various sorts.
Yuki-san nods to the hostess and takes a seat. For myself, I'm utterly confused and just...stand there.
Yuki Eiri didn't want to kill me? He was taking me to dinner?
"I'm Mitsu," the hostess says, bowing to me. "If there is anything you need during your stay with us, please do not hesitate to ask. Now, can I bring you gentlemen drinks?"
"The usual," Yuki-san declares, fishing once again for his cigarettes.
"And you, sir?"
"Um. Orange soda?"
Yuki-san's lighter flickers, causing the shadows in the room to shift slightly. "Bring him a screwdriver, heavy on the vodka."
"No, I..."
"That -is- what you drink, isn't it?"
How does he -know- that?
Mitsu smiles and nods. Apparently she takes orders from Yuki-san, despite what she said. "And the rest shall be as you discussed over the phone, Yuki-san?"
Yuki-san had -reservations- for this place?
With a slight nod of his head, Yuki Eiri agrees and dismisses Mitsu, all in one fluid motion. She slides the door closed behind her, leaving me with perhaps the most enigmatic man since...
Well, since me.
"Don't just stand there. Sit down, baka."
Seeing few other options, I do as he says. Sitting alone, here in this badly-lit room with Yuki Eiri just isn't right. The silence is stifling, and with a lack of anything better to do, I pull down my mask and start twirling my sunglasses in my fingers.
I wish Kumagoro was here.
I wish Shuichi was here.
No, I don't. I really don't.
"You don't drink anymore?" Yuki-san finally asks.
The sudden change to conversation startles me, and my sunglasses clack against the table. "Ano, not really. No. I try not to drink much."
"Why?"
I look at the wall, hoping that there will be something there to catch my interest and let me avoid the question. Unfortunately, there isn't. "Nothing good ever comes of it."
"What does come of it?"
Is he trying to get under my skin? What is -with- this line of questioning? I've got to turn the conversation back around. There are things I need to know.
"You know, Yuki-san, I don't see how talking about my drinking habits are going to..."
"What happened when you drank?" Yuki Eiri reiterates. His voice isn't forceful, exactly, or threatening. It's just...demanding. I wish I could see his eyes. I wish I knew...where he was going with this.
"A lot of people got hurt. People that didn't deserve it. And I...also...sometimes got hurt, too."
"There are people who deserve to be hurt?"
I wonder if I can hide underneath this table. It's pretty low to the ground, but I think I can get under there. Somehow, Yuki Eiri can make me feel like I need to crawl into a hole, just by asking questions.
I don't answer the question. It's not exactly the kind of question you can answer. Instead, I bend over and look underneath the table.
Maybe there's a clue down there.
"You're a real idiot," Yuki Eiri says, finally ashing the cigarette that has been hanging from his mouth for the past few minutes. "Even dumber than I always thought."
"You shouldn't listen to everything Tohma says."
"Are you kidding? Tohma practically worships the ground you walk on. I don't need him to know how much of an idiot you are."
"Okay," I say, popping my head up again, "Let's talk about Tohma. Why? Why would you toss away Shuichi, why would you do this to someone who loves you -so- much? Is it for Tohma? Did Tohma do something to you?"
Finally, finally, I get a reaction out of Yuki Eiri. It isn't much, but I see the corners of his lips downturn, and he winces. On the other hand, he could just be squinting. It is hard to see in here.
"Tohma did nothing. I just don't need that little brat around anymore."
"But, you said you loved him! I heard it! I heard it on the phone!"
There's a tap on the paper door, interrupting the conversation. Mitsu brings in our drinks and leaves again. The atmosphere in the room hangs dark, like a storm cloud threatening to break.
Shuichi called me a storm cloud once. Oh, Shu-chan, I'm so sorry. I bet you're so worried right now.
I drink practically the entire double screwdriver in a half-dozen gulps or less. It's a wonder that Shu-chan hasn't been turned into a raging drunk over the past few years. I can really see where living with Yuki Eiri would drive you to become a booze hound.
Oh god, I've missed hard liquor. This is quality vodka, too. You can tell by the smoothness. It slides down your throat, silky sweet, the tang of the orange juice...
Oranges. Tomi smelled of oranges and old books. Yes. That's why I don't drink screwdrivers anymore.
"Look, Yuki-san," I say, placing the glass on the table carefully. "I have to know. Why did you sleep with Tohma? Do you love him?"
The question fuels the fire behind his amber eyes. Luminescent against the candlelight, burning like hot coals, I can almost imagine what Shuichi might see in Yuki.
And then the fire extinguishes, completely and thoroughly, leaving no trace, not even a smolder, not even smoke. Yuki Eiri looks down and to the left, considering the beer in his hand.
"Love is a disease, and I am, fortunately, immune. All that matters is having someone to fuck, and where that is concerned, one warm body is as good as the next, I suppose."
He's lying to me. I'm sure of it.
Alright, alright, I'm not sure. But he sounds -too- certain, as if he had been thinking about how to answer that question for a long time.
"You don't believe that. You have to love Shuichi. It's just not fair if you don't." I can't believe this. I'm actually trying to convince the ex-boyfriend of the person I'm falling for to confess his love. Is this right or wrong? I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE.
I should jump Yuki Eiri, get that gun and blow my own damn brains out.
Ooo, Ryu-chan, that's dark. That's real dark. I don't think you need go "go there".
"Fair?" Yuki Eiri slams his beer down on the table, "How can you, of all people, think that life is fair? Your lover was ripped away from you before you even had a chance to really begin your life together. If you still believe life is fair, his death must have fucked you up more than anyone knows."
Why is it that every conversation I have these days gets turned back around to focus on Tomi's death and my subsequent breakdown?
"Tomi taught me to never give up on love, Yuki-san. You don't have to give up on Shu..."
My winning speech to turn Yuki Eiri's heart from coal to mush is interrupted by a slight rap on the paper door.
More drinks?
That would be nice but...
Suddenly, I feel dizzy.
And I am not talking about the usual kind of dizzy. Not the kind I am familiar with, where the world is pressing in on me, where the room buzzes and vibrates, taunting me with flickering hallucinations of the past and a very gruesome possible future. No, this is more....
Placid and glowing and...oh...
I feel pretty.
"Enter," Yuki Eiri commands, putting any stop to our conversation.
The paper door slides open, the sound reminding me of a dull xylophone note.
Backlit from the hallway, I see the silhouette of a person who is definitely not Mitsu-san. Thin and wispy body, with a mop of hair tumbling in a million different directions. Giant black boots with scores of buckles clinging to trim calves. Silken thighs disappearing into shorts that must be three sizes too big. Svelte hips. Firm stomach. A black mesh shirt that reveals a delicious chest. Strappy arm warmers clinging to wiry arm muscles.
He steps into the room, letting the red glow of candlelight reveal the rest. Pink hair with blue highlights. A little purple eyebrow ring. And that face...the face I adore...
I lean forward in both awe and horror.
Shuichi?
I don't understand. What is going on? Why is he here? His eyes. If I can just see them, then I will know. I need to see his...
Wait.
When did Shuichi get a haircut?
How is he wearing boots like that with his feet still all cut up?
And, where are Shuichi's bruises?
But, most of all...
Why is he smiling at me, instead of at Yuki Eiri?
No. This isn't Shuichi. Shuichi isn't this. He's not so confident. Not so quiet. If this were Shu, by now he would be screaming.
This is someone made up to -look- like Shindou Shuichi.
I glance at Yuki Eiri. And besides the fact that he currently looks -fuzzy-, I can't discern any change in him whatsoever. He's not even looking at this -person- who just entered the room. He's just sitting there, eyeballing his beer.
"You're Sakuma Ryuichi, aren't you?" That is -definitely- not Shuichi's voice. Shu-chan's voice is cotton candy and swimming pools. This person's voice is hot candle wax and pliant plastic. I should know. I have an ear for voices.
Nonetheless, I'm transfixed. I may not even be breathing. The way he sways as he steps forward. The way his head tilts backward as he shakes his hair out of his face, exposing the most luscious expanse of throat. It's like he swallowed Shuichi whole and only lets the most sensuous parts escape.
What is happening here? I don't...I can't...understand this... As he closes the door, my fingers tingle at the gush of air which runs over my skin, disco electric, spider web soft... The world is so beautiful, coated in a delicate veil of tenuous glamour. All my thoughts have just been sent to such a lovely oblivion.
"Yes, I'm...Ryu..." I manage to squeak after -forever-.
"You're even prettier in person," he says, kneeling diagonal from me at the table. Up close like this, if I concentrate, I can see the differences. His eyes are a little smaller than Shuichi's, his ears a little higher, his hands not quite as delicate. But, for some reason, my eyes refuse to stay completely focused. "I've brought you another drink."
Is Yuki Eiri even -in- this room, anymore?
Clink.
Yup. That's the sound of his beer bottle on the table...I think.
The fake Shuichi brings the glass to his mouth, catching the tiny red straw with his lips. His eyes close as he tastes the screwdriver, and he only opens them again as the straw slides back out. "Mmmm," he coos, placing the drink in front of me, "You know what they say about men who drink screwdrivers, Ryu-chan?"
"Nnn..no. What?"
"They are gods of desire trying to hide beneath the soft veneer of innocence. Just like the vodka hides behind the orange juice."
I...can't...look...away. This creature is fascinating. Even though I know he isn't Shuichi. Even though I know Yuki Eiri is watching every millimeter of movement I make... I just...can't...look away.
I can feel every inch of my own skin, from my toes to the top of my head, as if I've completely lost the ability to block out sensory input. Even this plain white cotton shirt feels filmy and slinky against my torso. Even my socks seem to be lapping at my toes with tiny tongues of feather.
All I can think of is...
Oh my GOD, what is this guy doing with his lips? He's biting his bottom one ever so lightly, letting it slip slowly from his teeth. I watch as the flesh pops back into place, full and plump, utterly succulent.
I want to taste that.
No. I can't do this. I won't do this. Yuki Eiri will know and then he'll think that Shu and I...that we...
And then I feel it, my hand trapped between the cool table and infinite warmth. The imposter flicks his thumbnail against my wrist, bringing back a flood of memories of Shuichi's playful touches. Surprised, I look down at my imprisoned fingers, my shoulders going momentarily rigid as I flinch.
This is wrong. This is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
But...
If I can't have Shuichi, can't I at least...
There is breath against the side of my face. When I look up again, I find that the imposter has leaned in close, Tingles follow warmth, sliding up my jaw, as he heats my ear with teasing words. "Do I...remind you of someone, Ryuichi?"
"I..." Something is caught in my throat. Oh, that's right, it's my sanity. How did it get -there-?
I wonder how long it will be until Yuki Eiri draws his gun and puts me out of this beautiful misery.
"It's alright," the imposter's voice purrs into my ear, causing my entire world to practically vibrate with intensity, "I can be...just who you want me to be. So, tell me."
This time, I manage even less of a word. I merely expel a deep breath.
And then I find myself sucking air back in as the fake Shuichi's lips graze gently against my earlobe. My entire ego is shocked into silence as Sakuma Ryuichi ceases to be.
I'm simply...
It's simply...so...
I must have more. Please, more.
Instinctively, I tilt my head, exposing my neck. I'm rewarded with trembling wisps of kisses all the way from my ear to my collarbone. Then he makes his way back up, more slowly, taking his time to dart his tongue out to taste my flesh. It's like a taser blast, shooting directly into my spine, ripping the last few still-slumbering nerve endings from their beds.
And, oh, God help me, God forgive me...but, I moan.
"Who am I...Ryu-chan?"
Please, please...help me...
"Just one word, and I can help you."
Help me. I'm not strong enough...to keep myself...from...
A tongue tracing my earlobe, tugging at my earrings, whispering urgent words into my soul. "Just say my name...and I will be real."
I can't stop myself. I'm too weak. Even though Yuki Eiri is watching...I can't stop myself. I've failed you.
And then, without warning, I hear myself whimper, "Shuichi. Please...please be...Shu..."
These lips, pressing against mine, rewarding me, damning me, coax away all the pain. He catches my bottom lip, sliding it between his teeth, just as he did with his own. nibbling on it, worrying at it, luxuriously playful, temptingly wicked.
This is Shuichi. This is Shuichi wanting me. This is Shuichi wanting me to want him.
These are Shuichi's hands in my hair, pulling me closer. This is Shuichi's mouth, parting his lips, welcoming me with his tongue, inviting me to partake. Inviting me to the secret place, where I can forget...everything bad about myself, about the world. This is Shuichi making me perfect.
Please, let it be true.
I kiss him deeply, wanting everything at once, to taste, to smell, to feel. This is me, loving him, and betraying him, all in the same instant. As I dip my tongue into his mouth, seeking out all the wondrous treasures contained within, teeth, saliva, tongue, the slickness of the inner cheek, the roughness of the roof of the mouth, I only vaguely register the sound of Yuki Eiri's lighter.
At that same instant, I finally recognize the taste that has been slowly absorbing into my tongue.
He tastes...
Distinctly...
Of oranges.
Although I know (or should have known, if I were rational) it's just the aftertaste from the sip of screwdriver, my eyes shoot open.
Oranges. Oranges. Just like...
Like Tomi.
Oh my god, what have I done?
This isn't Shuichi. And this isn't right. No, this is very...very...very wrong.
I'm pushing him away, as horrified at the loss of my fantasy as I am at my own actions. I'm stumbling across the table, knocking things over, trying to find my feet, trying to get as far away from what I've done as possible. But, for some reason, I can't seem to make sense of the world. It's all colors and light, shapes and squiggles. I have to get away...from this...from the imposter and from...
Yuki Eiri.
Oh Shuichi... oh no, Shuichi, what have I done?
"Where are you going, idiot? Get back here!" I no longer can move forward. I'm caught on...something. I struggle helplessly, unable to comprehend where the resistance is coming from. From very close by, Yuki Eiri says, "We're not finished talking yet, Sakuma."
But the only word falling from my lips, over and over, is "Why?" Why did Yuki Eiri do this? Why did I fall for it? Why can't I be as strong as I want? Why did Tohma have to be right? Why did I... Why did I...have to be so greedy?
I feel something at my back, a twisting sensation, and that is when I realize that Yuki Eiri has ahold of the back of my shirt. He leans in close, a demonic entity that I can't see, pushing a horrible voice into my brain, "You've slept with him, haven't you? I saw the way you flinched when your hand was touched."
"No, I..."
I feel myself being pushed forward, almost roughly. On the other hand, it could be Yuki Eiri is just trying to keep me upright. My knees are weak, and I don't think I could be standing on my own anymore. "Fine. If you want him, you can have him. When he goes to America, you go with him. And don't ever come back to Japan, either of you. Do you understand me, Sakuma? Don't -ever- bring Shuichi back to Japan. Say you understand."
"I..." But, I don't understand. I don't want this to happen to Shuichi. "Yuki-san...why...WHY?"
"Love," he says as his grip on my shirt loosens, allowing me to collapse, slowly, into a heap. I feel my cheek on the floor. I feel myself becoming a puddle of air. The last thing I hear before the world grows completely dim, is Yuki Eiri kneeling down next to me. And then, with his hand resting on my back, he continues, "Love is a horrible, intolerable thing. I don't want to see it."
Blackness engulfs me, a maelstrom into a void. Nothingness, beautiful nothingness, takes me away from this nightmare as a whisper falls into my heart.
"I don't want Shuichi's eyes...
...haunting me."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Shit, he's a mess. Ten, will you run a bath? Shindou-san, if you could help me get him out of these clothes."
I feel a tugging on my feet and hear distinct footsteps moving away from me.
"Shit, shit, shit. What did you get yourself into, Sakuma-san?"
Is that Molly? Is that her...cursing?
"I think he's okay, Molly-san. Just a little dirty."
A touch on my wrist. "His pulse is absolutely crazy." A hand on my forehead. "And he's burning up."
"Should we call the doctor?"
"No, Shindou-san, that would probably be a bad idea."
How am I here? Is this a dream? Wasn't I just in that place...that bizarre restaurant...with Yuki Eiri...and...
Shuichi.
My eyes flutter open and then immediately close again. I regroup, and try once more. There's a lot of light in here. Buckets and buckets of light. Shadowy things move in the periphery of my vision. And...hm...yes, this is the back of my couch I see, and beyond it, my blue walls painted like sky. The blood pulsing through my veins feels like tiny grains of sugar in syrup. Sugar blood.
"You're awake!" Shuichi's face, the -real- Shuichi's face, hovers over mine, smiling widely, "Can you hear me, Ryu-chan?"
Damn. I have to bite my tongue as a flood of needs, wants, visions, memories, joys, and fears all flood into my brain at the same time. What have I done, Shuichi? What horrible things...that I didn't even know I was capable of doing? The Pandora's Box that I have opened can never be closed again.
"Can you see me?"
I try to reply, but the words become a strangled gurgle in my throat. Shuichi is really, really, really pretty, na no da. If the fake one was nice, I can't even imagine what it would be like to...
No, stop. STOP!
I find myself recoiling from Shuichi, pushing my head back into the cushion of the couch, trying to will myself to not think about his lips at all.
"Ryu-chan?"
I finally manage a dry whisper from between parched lips. Geez, I'm thirsty. "Shu...Shu..." I murmur it over and over as he wraps his arms around me, giving me a tight hug. His face crushes into my neck, reminding me of the kisses someone else placed there what seems like only minutes ago.
"I was so worried about you," he says, his voice tiny and scared, which makes me feel even smaller and -more- scared. He pulls away, but grabs my hand and continues to babble, "We were all so worried about you. Molly-san looked everywhere for you. She couldn't find you anywhere. She talked to that friend of yours at SCCD's, who said you'd been there, but after that you disappeared. And we...I just didn't know what to do, Ryuichi, I didn't know what to do."
"How did I...get here? I don't...remember anything."
"We don't know. The concierge got an anonymous phone call that said you were outside. When he went and looked, you were passed out against the front of the building, clutching two bags from SCCD's."
Well, at least Yuki Eiri had the decency not to alert Shuichi to his presence. This, unfortunately, doesn't make my encounter with him any less confusing.
"Where were you, Ryuichi? Where did you go? I thought you left, like you didn't like me anymore and I was troubling you by being here and I thought you were mad at me, maybe..."
"No, Shu, that's not it at -all-. I..."
What can I tell him? 'I was mugged and almost beaten with a baseball bat by the lead singer of one of your favorite bands. And then, I was rescued by your gun-wielding ex-boyfriend, only to be kidnapped and driven across town. Once there, he showed me a sexy replica of you, which I, like an idiot, kissed, destroying any hope of your lover coming back to you, because now he thinks we're sleeping together.' I can't say that! I can't tell him the truth! But, it is -far- too hard to lie to Shuichi. So, instead, I just stare at him, watching as his smile slowly slips away, watching as he realizes something is wrong. Or, at least, more wrong than he previously assumed.
Thankfully, my personal assistant comes to the rescue.
"Shindou-san, would you go help Ten with the bath? And maybe find Sakuma-san's robe, too, please?"
"Okie doke!" (How is it that he can immediately go from looking forlorn to being completely genki? Oh wait, I do that, too.)
Shuichi hops up, disappearing from view for only a moment before returning. He presses a familiar friend into the crook of my arm. "Kumagoro and I," Shuichi says, pulling off the most reassuring smile imaginable, "Are so glad you're home."
As Shuichi leaves, Kumagoro starts in on me, too. Where did I go? What did I do? Why didn't I bring him anything? Why is my arm so warm?
I can only groan and turn my head to the side. The room spins around, like I'm on skates in a roller rink. Even though Kumagoro says my arm is hot, my flesh feels clammy and cold. I must be sweating.
I see Molly's face swim into view. She's sitting on the coffee table, looking down at me, her lips pursed, her eyebrows wrinkled in concern. "Sakuma-san," she says quietly, putting her fingers against my wrist once again, "I'm not angry, okay? But, I have to know what you took."
"Ww...what?"
"It's no good, Ryuichi. I know you are on something. Your pupils are dilated, your heart is racing... I know all the signs." Molly's face contracts, as if she is fighting tears or at least the urge to yell at me. "You said you weren't doing this anymore. You can't do this anymore. Do you want to end up in the hospital again?"
Possibly. At least they don't really make me -think- in the hospital.
"But, I didn't take anything, Molly, I swear. I swear on Kumagoro's ears, I didn't."
"Please don't lie, Sakuma-san."
"I just had one drink, na no da, that's all."
Molly's eyes narrow as she leans forward, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Where did you get the alcohol, Ryuichi?"
I'm shivering now. I wrap my arms around myself as my teeth grind. I can't stop my jaw from clenching and unclenching. "Someone...gave...me..."
And, then I finally realize...
Yuki Eiri put something in my drink. He drugged me.
What can I say?
I'm slow, sometimes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I'm naked, and very cold. It's bright in here. My stomach feels a bit queasy. But none of this discomfort can compare with the things I see when I close my eyes. I don't want to close my eyes, not at all.
"Okay, Sakuma-san, into the tub."
I don't move, because I can't, really. So, Ten grabs me by my upper arm and helps me into the bath. Oh, much warmer. There's lots of fluffy bubbles, which pop against my skin, making me grind my teeth even more.
Shuichi comes in, carrying a load of fluffy purple towels. "Ooo, bubblebath! Fun." He sits down on the closed toilet after putting his load of towels on the counter. "I'll sit with him, Ten-san," Shuichi says to my rather worried looking bodyguard.
Ten grunts in response, though not particularly angrily, and leaves after bending over to whisper a few things to Shuichi. Probably something like 'Don't let him drown,' I'm guessing.
Oh, I feel sorta floaty.
After Ten leaves, Shuichi begins to hum. It's a song I don't recognize for once, something windy and cheerful. Unable to sit still, he goes over and re-positions Kuma-chan on the shelf.
I just don't know what to say to him. I can't think straight, not that I ever really can. But, right now, my thoughts are just jumping all over the place.
Yuki-san drugged me. Yuki-san...said a lot of mean things but...I think maybe he's...hurting, somehow. He wouldn't have set all that up if he didn't want to find out about... Which means he's jealous, maybe. And, if he's jealous, it means he still wants Shuichi. And even if he's angry now because I'm in love with Shu, it still doesn't explain why he hurt Shuichi in the first place. Or why it seems so important to him that -both- Shuichi and I leave Japan...
Why couldn't I have been a robot, instead of a rock singer? Robots don't have emotions. And besides, giant robots can shoot lasers out of their eyes. If I had that, people would definitely tell me the truth, or I'd fry them where they stood.
"You feeling a little better?" Shuichi asks, sitting back down on the closed toilet. I have an American-style bathroom, by the way, very luxurious. If you're going to do anything with your money, I say, get a good bathroom. Because, when you're up all night vomiting, an American toilet is much more comfortable to lean on than a Japanese one.
"Shuichi, I..." I close my eyes. I don't want to look. But the visions swimming in my head force me to open my eyes once again. "I did something bad."
Shuichi slides off the toilet onto his knees. With a small smile, he dislodges my hand, which had been previously clutching the side of the tub. Slipping his fingers through mine, he whispers, "That's okay. We all do, sometimes, you know. We all fuck up."
"No, Shu, you don't understand..."
"Shh," he says, leaning down to press his cheek against my fingers. Wow. That's even softer than the bubbles. He's got to use some sort of face cream, because it's just unnatural for skin to be that soft. "Right now, you don't have to worry about anything. Tonight, we're not going to think about that. I give you permission, okay? Permission not to worry for one night. You can tell me what happened tomorrow, or the next day, whenever you feel better."
And this is why I adore you, Shindou Shuichi.
Because after you said that, after you forgave me for worrying you, without so many words, after you lifted the burden from my shoulders like it didn't weigh anything at all, after you smiled like you hadn't just been dragged through ditches full of emotional razor blades over the past few days...
You winked at me, and said...
"Well, if you are all on drugs and stuff, we might as well have fun. How about some hot chocolate?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
***In Our Next Chapter: A hangover to end all hangovers. Hiro shows up. And then, just as it seems like everything is calming down, there's a knock on the door in the middle of the night. Seguchi Tohma is a mess. Will Ryuichi turn him away? Or will he go to the one place he hates more than any other, just to help a man with whom he's ended his friendship? In the next chapter of Pianissimo Butterfly, the truth is finally revealed. And Ryuichi learns that one man can love someone, with such incredible completeness, to go to any lengths to save him. A love that transcends mortality, a love...that would make Tomi proud.
***Author Notes:
The next chapter isn't the last chapter, but it may be the second to the last, depending on how verbose I am.
This chapter was a lot of fun to write. I'm pretty sure the next chapter is going to be hellish, so it may take a while.
I got the chapter 5 review responses up on my webpage, but I haven't done chapter 6 or 7's yet. I should get around to them early in the week, though. (I hope.) Please forgive me for falling behind on that. I've been trying to crank out the fic at a speed that keeps everyone interested. Please don't think that I'm ignoring you, it isn't like that at all. I -adore- your reviews, and I am so thankful to everyone who keeps reading, despite how confusing the story can be at times. So, a thousand thank-yous to you all from me...and the Ryuichi in my head.
***Glossary:
Ano: Um.
Genki: Energetic/healthy. Full of bounce.