Don't own Gravitation. Do own this fic.
New and Improved! I fixed up the fight scene so it isn't as impractical.
He brushed the last few notes out of the strings. A minor chord that danced to the listeners' ears in a sorrowful joy. There was a silence that stayed until the strings were completely stopped of all vibration.
Hiro sat with his eyes closed waiting for an audible reaction. He didn't dare look at his friends' faces. He didn't know if he would find approval or vain attempts not to laugh.
Finally he heard someone slump into a seat. It was Suguru. There was blankness in his eyes as he stared numbly at Hiro's hands as if wondering if such mortal things could produce something so- celestial. Shuichi stood before him; a smile was quirking up the corners of his mouth. "Well, well!" he said, "Aren't you Mr. Amazing?" Shuichi cupped his hand on Hiro's shoulder. "How do you expect us to work up to that level?"
"You guys can do it. You've got the drive."
"What drive?" asked Suguru, all awe gone from his voice and replaced by a business like manner.
"Well, Shu's got Yuki, you've got Tohma. That kind of drive."
"Seguchi san isn't my drive!"
"He meant that you want to get better than he is," Shuichi mustered a lot of condescending into that sentence. It was rare that he got to be the one to point out the obvious. "So," he pointed at Hiro, "What's your drive?"
Hiro could only look down and try not to blush. He could hardly tell them. It wasn't even a sure thing. It was just a lucky chance that he got so inspired. He could hardly trust Tatsuha to be faithful. "Well, uh, it's kind of hard to, um, put a name to it. You know?" Hiro mumbled.
Very calmly Fujisaki, putting on his coat, stated, "I'll bet it was Ayaka chan."
"Um, sorta. You could say that," Hiro mumbled again. He didn't want to give anything away, but he could tell that his best friend knew something. Shuichi had a strange glint in his eye as he walked over to the refrigerator
"Whatever. I'm going home before it starts to rain. I'll see if I can get something to go with your piece Nakano Kun."
"OK. See you tomorrow then. Bye." Shuichi said and watched the boy walk out of the door. Hiro tried to pay no attention to the way his friend watched him as he drank from the water bottle. He was just buying time by drinking; they both knew it.
"Well, if it's going to rain, I better get going too. I don't want to miss the bus," Hiroshi said, staring to put away his guitar. He laid it down gently and wiped off the strings. He was putting away his paper full of letters that corresponded to notes when Shuichi put the water bottle down.
"So. What's eating you?" Hiro put on a surprised face and looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"Something's obviously going on. Your not telling us about it, whatever it is, and I don't think it has to do with Ayaka. Something else happened this weekend."
Hiro stood and smiled. As he walked towards the door he ruffled his friends hair. "You live in one twisted world Shu chan. See you tomorrow." He walked out and closed to door leaving Shuichi to do what he would.
Actually, Hiro was surprised that he didn't come bursting out of the room and start nagging him about this mysterious drive. Instead it was peaceful walk down an empty corridor to an empty elevator, then into the empty lobby opening to a semi busy street.
He flung his bag more securely onto his shoulder and switched his guitar case to his other hand. He had brought the acoustic and it didn't have a shoulder strap, so carrying it was a pain.
The clock above the door said about five minutes to ten, so he would be able to make the bus instead of having to try and get a taxi or walk home. With a sigh of relief he pushed open the plate glass door and stepped out into the brisk night.
The world was filled with the growl of engines and the simpering sheen of brake and headlights. Dashes of green and yellow also dotted the street as the traffic lights flashed signals to drivers.
The streetlight placed by the bus stop illuminated a group of about ten people. It seemed odd, that many people this late at night. They were all bundled against the chill and seemed completely absorbed in their own business. Maybe no one would recognize him. He could only hope.
He went and stood on the outside of the group, shifting his weight from foot to foot, fearing that he would be recognized. Shifting around probably wasn't helping much. He needed to move around though, not just to ease anxiety, but also to keep warm. He set down his guitar case and rubbed his hands together.
A drop of wintry water splashed down onto his hands. He rolled his eyes, "Great, now it's going to rain." He bent to pick his guitar back up.
"So, you play?" He grabbed the instrument and looked at the speaker. Some older man, a stranger, with a tan winter overcoat and a respectable look about him. He had a Kyoto accent. "Uh, yeah," Hiro mumbled and tried not to look the man in the face. There was no way he would know about Bad Luck, but you could never be too careful.
"The N-G label's building is right around here. You in one of their bands?" There was a malevolent curiosity to his voice. "Yeah, I'm in one of the bands."
"What one?" the spite was growing.
"Bad Luck. You've probably never heard of us."
"Oh no, you guys were all over the news last week. You're lead singer being a gay and all. Pretty sick. I'm surprised you haven't quit. Then again, I'm surprised the news about your little Kyoto incident hasn't gotten out. Whatever did happen at the Ryuganji temple?"
Heartbeats came like the raindrops. Fast and plunging. Fear dug into Hiro's stomach and shimmered out his eyes. No one was supposed to know. Nothing had happened so it was irrelevant. It was only one night.
The glimmer of hate in the man's eyes brightened. "I'm dead on aren't I? Hey boys! This is the one." Three other men dressed like him, but younger came over.
"You're wrong. You've got the wrong guy. Nothing happened in Kyoto. Nothing." Hiro began to back up. People were looking at him and the four men. No one moved. "Yeah, that's the guy. We were shown a picture. That's him."
"What are you waiting for then?" The leader, the man that had approached him, asked, "Get on with it!" Images of the aftermath of Shuichi's attack flashed through his head. No. This wasn't going to happen to him. They were backing him up though, out of the light, away from the street and in the opposite direction of home.
The leader was explaining things to the people at the bus stop now. Saying something about a criminal and being the police and everything was being taken care of. Then he was out of sight. All that Hiro could see was the damp, dark, shining walls of a narrow alleyway and the looming silhouettes of the three men.
His guitar case bumped up against a wall. He dropped it. It would only get in the way now. He had to be ready for what was coming.
"So, you're a heartbreaking homo? It's a pity there's scum like you on this earth," one of the three said throwing a fist into Hiro's stomach. He doubled over and coughed. They laughed.
Another of the men reached out and took him by the collar of his coat. Hiro could only imagine the look of murder in his eyes. Desperately he clutched at the man's large hand and tried to pull it off, away, he tried to get free.
A blow took him across the face, another to the stomach, then face again. He dropped back down to the concrete. It bit into his hands and knees as he landed. He tasted blood in his mouth. Running his tongue over his teeth, he found them all still intact. He felt a warm trickle coming from his nose as well.
Staggering to get back up and fight back, a shower of kicks rained upon him, landing all over, head, chest, legs. Instead of standing, he curled up and tried to get as small as possible. He would be harder to hit that way.
They were saying things to him. He could barely hear, but he knew that they were making accusations. "It was only one night. Nothing happened. It's meaningless!" he murmured. They let off and listened to his pathetic mumbles then laughed. "It meant nothing. Nothing."
He listened to himself. No, he was lying. That wasn't meaningless. A warmth surged through him, shutting off the pain and rain. There was a dark silk between his fingers. There was a strong arm around his shoulders. There was something in his heart that shouted at him that he was wrong, he was a liar.
"Christ Hiro, be a rebel. I thought that was your attitude." The words of that night echoed in his mind. They began to twine with the feelings. Shaking, he rose. The men laughed and got ready to hit and kick again.
Something else had taken over Hiro. He was running on instinct, rational thought had taken to the back seat. "Go away," he whispered, bending to pick up his guitar, and missing blows that ended up on the wall. "Go away," he said standing again. Something vicious was in his eyes. It froze the men for a second. That was long enough though. He swung out the hard case of the guitar and battered them all aside. Then Hiro ran.
There was no one at the bus stop now. He had missed the bus. He would have to get home on foot. It wasn't that bad. Four blocks. He could make it.
"Hey! Get back here! We weren't finished with our meeting!" one of the men yelled running after him.
No, he didn't want to be chased. Go away he thought and began to run again. Maybe the man would get tire and go away. He didn't dare look back.
Four, he had made it through the first stretch of the race. The man was still back there, he didn't have his friends with him. Three, cars flashed by, wind and rain stung his eyes, but he kept going. Two, pain was seeping into his movement. Unused muscles began to sing pain. One, he could see his apartment building now. It almost shone with relief. Once he was there, he was safe.
Climbing the stairs, legs, chest, stomach, head all screaming hurt, he fumbled in his pocket for a key. The man was still behind him, only a few seconds behind him! Cold jagged metal met his fingers. The key was transferred to the lock, falling in purely by good chance. The knob was turned, the door was opened, he was in, then the door was closed, key ripped out as it shut. Not even a second later, his pursuer hit the door shouting. Hiro didn't hear, he was too busy going to the elevator; there was no way he was making it up five flights of stairs.
Doors rattled open and he stumbled in pressing the button as he went. He set his guitar down, then leaned against the cool wall. It felt soothing. He slid down it, legs not wanting to hold him anymore.
He dragged the back of his hand under his nose, then examined the blood. His blood. It seemed stupid to have blood on his hand just because he had kissed another man. Turning over his hand, he saw the raw scrapes from the pavement. Cringing, he picked out bits of gravel.
The clattered open again. He stood, slowly, almost missing his chance to get out. Sensing a person between them, the doors opened again and patiently waited for him to clear out.
Hiro searched his pocket for the other key. The one that would admit him to his own home. There, he found it. Leaning on a wall for support, he fumbled to get it into the narrow slit. It fit and was turned with a satisfying click. He was in.
Battling against exhaustion, and stinging, aching, searing pains, he tried to get the key out. No use. It wasn't going to let go. Not even caring, he shut the door, tossed down his bag and guitar, then headed for his bedroom.
Sleep, he needed sleep right now. Peeling off his soaked coat, he staggered into his room. The bed looked soft and warm and ridiculously inviting. He smiled, stepped forward, and let himself fall. He was passed out even before he felt the soft bed embrace him.
The first thing he felt was the warmth of the blankets and the rough wool on his skin. Then he felt the stinging in his palms from where he had fallen. Slowly then, the pain from all the bruises seeped in, and then came the hurt from the kicks to his stomach.
Hiro opened his eye; the one that had swollen almost shut. Bare winter sunlight filtered in through closed curtains and filled the room with a half-light. He looked around, neck sore. In a chair in the corner sat Tatsuha. He smiled and waved as Hiro's gaze fell to him.
"So," the younger man stood up and walked to the bedside, "What the hell happened to you?"
"Beat up."
"No shit. By who? I'll damn their souls to hell." There was no wit in his tone. Hiro smiled and tried to sit up- bad idea. He winced and lay back down. "I don't know who it was. Just three guys that some how found out that we- were together last weekend." Tatsuha frowned. "How'd they know?"
"That's what I want to know."
The phone rang. Hiro looked at Tatsuha expectantly. When he didn't move Hiro asked, "Would you get it?"
The monk walked out of the room and answered the phone, "Hello, Hiroshi Nakano's residence." There was a brief silence and then he walked back in with the phone. His thumb was over the mouthpiece. "It's Shuichi. Have fun explaining to him why I'm here."
"Hey Shu," Hiro said trying not to sound exhausted and pained.
"Hiro, thank god! You're not dead. They say that you haven't even tried to come out of the apartment."
"They?"
"Yeah, the people on TV. From the news. Have you watched the news?"
"No, I was exhausted when I got home. I just woke up."
"Don't lie. I know that you got beat up. What's this about you being with some dude last weekend."
"How the hell did they find out!?"
"So it's true?"
"No- yes. I don't know. Tatsuha turn on the TV."
"Why is he there?"
"Long story."
"I'm all ears." Hiro sighed. He couldn't win. Not today, not last night.
"Listen," he said finally, "can you just come over? Just disguise yourself. You have a key right? Maybe climb up the fire escape? Whatever. I'll have it all figured out by the time you're here."
"We're out front."
"What!?"
"See Yuki!" he heard Shuichi say mouth away from the mouthpiece, "I told you he'd want us to come over."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for-"
"Your crazy driving. You could have killed us!"
"Oh right, like Japan really needs another bad pop-" Hiro didn't listen anymore. He yelled into the phone to try and get his friend's attention.
"Yeah?"
"Are you coming up?"
"Just a sec. Bye." Rolling his eyes he hung up, "That is one weird kid."
The TV was on. It was just like the day that Yuki had come back and Shuichi was in his house. They were out as a couple and everything was all right. Maybe it would be that way for Hiro and Tatsuha. Judging by the happenings of the previous night it didn't look like such a happy outcome.
The reporter was explaining the situation. The street looked full of more angry people. At the bottom of the screen scrolled a brief description of the "breaking news". Hiroshi Nakano gay? Strange hazing last night? Legions of devastated fans stand vigil outside his apartment.
Hiro groaned and tried to sit up again. He gasped as spasms of hurt erupted from his chest. Popping the top on a can of beer Tatsuha mentioned, "Oh yeah. I think you have some broken ribs. I put some bandages on."
"Thanks for giving me a little warning." Tatsuha played two year old and stuck out his tongue. Hiro finally managed a sitting position.
There was a knocking on the window. Tatsuha flung open the curtains to the grinning face of Shuichi. He stroked his chin in contemplation and made to close the curtain. Yuki stepped forward, almost knocking the pink haired boy off the fire escape, and banged on the window. Tatsuha opened it.
Yuki stepped in. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm Nakano san's forbidden love. Nice to meet you."
"YOU!?" Shuichi sputtered, clambering in the window. From the bed Hiro groaned. Tatsuha looked over his shoulder. "What?" he asked, "They'd find out eventually."
Shuichi was still in a stupor. "HIM?!" He marched over to his friend. "HIM?!" Hiro covered his face and groaned. "It was one night! It means nothing."
"Well, I'm offended there lover boy."
"No, I didn't mean it. I don't know what I mean!"
"Why him," bawled Shuichi, "He's a slut!"
"Watch it little dude," Tatsuha hissed.
"Piss off monk boy! You can't hurt me or your brother will have you ass!"
"You better listen to the boy brother dear," Yuki chuckled and sat down in the corner seat where Tatsuha had been when Hiro woke.
"Listen hear you little pink haired rat-"
"Hey!" Hiro shouted, "Can we all just shut up?" The room fell silent but for the babble on the TV. Everyone looked at Hiro. The buzzer went off on the intercom. In stereo they heard the reporter on television and over the intercom. "Nakano kun? Nakano kun, can we please get a statement from you? Nakano kun?"
"What do we do?" Hiro asked quietly as if afraid the intercom might hear them all even though voices couldn't be heard unless the speak button was pressed. "Better come up with a damn good statement and fast," Yuki said, snatching away his brother's beer and taking a swig. Hiro glowered. "I hate pheromones."
"Nakano kun?" the press begged.
"What do you want?!" Shuichi was at the intercom. "Go away you drama hungry scumbags!"
"Is that Shindou kun?" the buzzer asked. Everyone glared at Shuichi. He let go of the button. "Aww shit."
Same thing about that sucky syntax of mine. Alert me to the fact. Thank you silverone for pointing that error out. Yes typos do suck. I fixed it though. Arigato to all that have read this so far!