Don't own Gravitation; do own this fic, and the song.
"Hey, Hiro! Wait!" Shuichi came running up the hall to catch his best friend at the back door before he could make a big mistake. "You aren't going home on the bus are you? Not after this conference right?"
"I'm assuming not any more."
"Good," Shu laughed, pulling to a stop next to the guitarist and the monk. Eiri came walking calmly up the hall and pulled car keys from his pocket. "We taking them too?" he asked around a cigarette. Shuichi nodded and pushed open the door, leading his friends outside.
The natural light was glaringly different from the incandescent bulbs that shone on them in the conference room as they were pounded with questions. This light was soft and bright in a friendly way, not leering and beaming mischievously. It shimmered off the vanishing snow in a twinkling way that invited laughter and play. But the musicians were too busy to play, and nature's request was left alone.
Four car doors slammed, echoing against the N-G building. The luxuriant leather seats felt good, better than the sterile, hard office chairs dragged in for the conference. Hiro buckled and shrugged into a more comfortable position.
That conference had been quite a whirlwind of speculations, rumors, questions, and answers. He and Tatsuha had faired well, only lightly touching on the subject of religion because Tatsuha was a monk. Yuki and Shuichi had it even easier because they had gone through the whole deal a few weeks prior. They seemed more like judges, being asked questions about their friends' relationship instead of their own.
It was Tohma and Suguru that had it hardest. Partly because Suguru was so young, and partly because it was well known that Seguchi was already married.
"A divorce has been filed for," he had said. Hiro noted that there was a bit of regret in his voice. He could only imagine the regret in his wife's heart.
"Was Seguchi san serious about that divorce?" Hiro asked as Yuki pulled out of the parking space. "Yeah," he muttered, looking for an opening in the traffic.
"You talked to Mika then?" Shuichi asked. His boyfriend shook his head and plunged into an opening taking everyone in the car by surprise. When hearts ceased their frantic beating, Hiro posed his own boyfriend the question.
"Nope. I haven't talked to her for three days. I just hope that she saved my stuff from being burnt."
"Who's burning your stuff, why?" asked Shindou whipping around in his seat to look at the remorseful boy in the back. It was Yuki that answered. "If the old man can't kill him he's going to make his life as miserable as possible."
"That's awful!"
"That's family," Tatsuha smiled sardonically. His eyes were loaded full with sadness and hollow abandonment. He really was just a seventeen-year-old boy. Hiro snaked a hand out to the boy for reassurance. Suddenly that smile and those eyes were turned on him. Despondency gave way to mirth.
"Where did you say that you lived?" asked Yuki, obliterating the moment. Losing his grip on that hand and snapping back to reality Hiro pointed, "Just up there. I hope there's a parking spot."
"I'm sure that he has no intention of parking anyway. He'll probably just push us out of the car and hope for the best. What a brother." The carefree sarcasm returned.
"And risk you getting blood on my car? I don't think so." Was it possible that there were hints of humor staining the edges of the dark writer's voice?
"Is that Mika?" Shuichi shielded his eyes from the light and looked.
"Now you really have to stop," Tatsuha said looking at the woman next to the red convertible.
They pulled into an available space and everyone piled out of the car.
"Hey, little brother, I got your shit before Dad could heave it. All that Nittle Grasper stuff, and a few clothes that I thought you'd want. Wow, you got a hot one," she pushed her sunglasses up and looked over Hiroshi then glared at him. "You be good to my brother," she hissed then went to greet Eiri and Shindou.
Hiro stood stunned as Tatsuha started rummaging through the big, black garbage bags. "Don't mind her," he said, hugging a picture of Ryuichi, "she's always had something up her ass," He put the picture back and stood, "So sis, how are you doing?"
"I'm bitter, hormonal and I swerved out of the road just to hit a few squirrels that looked like my husband, so, all things considered, I'm just dandy."
"How many squirrels did you get?" Yuki asked slightly amused.
"Three out of four, not my best record."
"So, you're really OK?" Shuichi asked looking at Mika with pitying eyes.
"What's it to you punk?" She snapped, he winced. Rolling her eyes, "Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. The bastard'll prolly find some snakes in the bed, but I'll get over it. It wasn't like- like," she stopped, realizing the she was treading in too deep. "Anyway. I have to go to the lawyer's office and sign some papers. It'll be a quick and painless divorce. For me at least," she said- without conviction. She waved a little goodbye and slid into her car, pulling out and then disappearing into traffic.
"She was going to say that it wasn't like Tohma married her for her. Just her-- connections," Yuki stated, watching her go. He turned back to the group. "Well, let's get that stuff upstairs and then we're going." He hefted a bag and headed for the door. Tatsuha grabbed one too, as did Shuichi. Hiro jogged ahead to get the door.
When the writer and singer were gone, Hiro looked around his apartment. The answer phone light was blinking. He pressed play. "Hey, little bro! How are you? I just read about you in the papers! Man, that stuff you said. You've got balls. I'm glad to call you my brother. Sorry, about Mom, she's a wreck. Striking you from the family. She'll get over it. Anyway, if you have time, call me. You know the number."
"Who was that?" Tatsuha asked, folding a sweater and setting it on a pile.
"It was my brother, Yuji."
"You should give him a call."
"Yeah, I should. Can you handle unpacking?"
"Can you handle my living here?"
"Yeah, like I have a choice." Hiro walked into the ruin of things and gave his love a brief kiss. "I'm going to make a phone call," he said, pressing the talk button on the phone and waiting for the dial tone. Tatsuha nodded and went back to folding clothes muttering, "Great, now I'm going to look like my sister dressed me. Honestly, she has no taste for clothes."
The night was cold and clear. The stars were glinting in the black velvet sky singing their song to anyone who would listen. They hardly suspected that the song was soon going to be paralleled for thousands.
"FIVE MINUTES!" Sakano whirled around the dressing room.
"So that means ten more minutes?" Hiro asked, looking up from his magazine.
"No!"
"Oh come on Sakano san, you know that the emcees are going to talk forever!" Shuichi moaned. "Besides," Suguru backed him up, "they have plenty of fodder, what with the recent events and all."
"Sometimes I swear they get paid by the minutes they can talk," Hiro laughed and resumed reading. Sakano retreated to a corner, utterly defeated. The musicians watched their producer for a few seconds before hearing a hammer cock out of the other corner of the room.
With hands up in surrender, they began the march up to the dark wings of the stage.
The house was full. Standing room only. It was still a little dizzying for the musicians, as they peeped around the corner to look at the eager faces. All of them radiated with the joy that they were actually here; they were going to see Bad Luck live!
"And now, with out further ado, is Bad Luck!" the emcees screamed, and retreated off the stage as if blown away by the detonation of screams from the fans.
Shuichi, Suguru and Hiro walked out onto the stage. They were frozen in that second, smiling, waving, winking. Shindou Kun just waved to her, Nakano had just smiled at him, Suguru had just winked at them. Exhilaration and screaming filled the room.
Shuichi grabbed the mic. "Hello Tokyo! We're Bad Luck!" The howl defied possibility and intensified. "This is Shindou, that's Fujisaki!" he played a wavering chord on the synth, "and that's Nakano!" Hiro strummed out an ecstatic series of notes.
Shuichi looked back over his shoulder and mouthed, "Ready?" His band mates nodded and Fujisaki dove into the intro of Blind Game Again. Hiro picked his way in and Shuichi began to sing. The screams gave one final push and died away, replaced by clapping, dancing and the homely hum of people singing along.
The band bashed their way through song after song, altering each with improv and little stories between songs. It all lead up to the end. That was what everyone was waiting for. The new song. The one hinted at for ages and promised by the press conference. It came in due time.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Shuichi spoke. "Now's the time. Everyone's been waiting for it, are you ready for Our Love?" The crowd went ballistic.
The gentle ripple of notes coming from the synth subdued them. It was like rain, dripping from the eaves of a country home. It emanated with the joy of a full stream in spring. Gentle acoustic guitar coupled with it, humming with a bittersweet melody that seemed to have been taken right from the lonely skies seen through desolate lovers' eyes. Vocals came in, mingling with the rest of the jubilant melancholy, like the voice of the sweetest seraphim, fired with an unholy passion "Shh," he sang.
Shh
Listen to the rain
Tears between our hearts
Scarlet with passion
Red blood is flowing
Glorious fashion
Our love
Hey
Listen to the wind
Breath between our lips
Silvered innocence
Daunting in the light
Our love
Our love
We don't listen
To what they say
Let the fervor reign
Without care
Removed from time
Exist within the stars
What
Listen to the earth
Skin between our souls
White with pulsing life
Constantly moving
Living the strife of
Our love
Now
Listen to the fire
Rage between our minds
Orange angered glow
Words are arising
Taking their mark
Out love
Our love
We don't listen
To what they say
Let the fervor reign
Without care
Removed from time
Exist within the stars
Tears between our hearts
Breath between our lips
Skin between out souls
Rage between our minds
Can't you hear the stars proclaiming
Exonerating
Singing of
Us
The crowd was silent until the last echo resonance of the song faded, then they burst with awe, approval, love, inspiration, and too many other sensations to name. With a humble thank you and small bow, the band glided off the stage. The cheering went on.
From a private box in the balcony Tohma turned to those sitting with him. "Amazing," his voice rattled with wonderment, "I've never felt such a presence from them, or anyone else."
"They were tight too. They sounded good, even though the lyrics are all trash," but even Eiri couldn't hide the respect in his voice.
Tatsuha sat back; a mischievous smile sprawled across his face. "Ooh, that boy is so getting lucky tonight."
To Silverone: I'm sorry I came off as bashing Ayaka. I know that she's a strong person and really very kind, but for some reason, she just kinda grates on my nerves. Like Botan, from Yu Yu Hakusho. Sorry, again, I'm not really a mean person. Argh, sometimes I just don't think. Rayne wa baka! Excuse me, I must find HULY to hit me with a few breadsticks (and no K san, no razor blades will be in them, I like my bread white, not red).
To XTsukimiOdangoX: Thank you for what you said! blush It means a lot to me. I hope I didn't make the wrong impression on you, I'm not really a little whiny brat, I swear on the souls of my friends (that OK with you guys? Darklore Wings? HULY?). I haven't read your stuff yet, but it's my policy that I return reviews. I'll get around to it, for everyone, I just have to be in a reading mode, and that may take a while.
Also, sorry, I know that you said I was good at updating frequently, except when writers block hits.
Now I really have to thank HULY chan forgetting me out of it. "Do something that you would never do." Well after I got out of thinking that I needed a plot twist, I realized I could do something I never do. Humor! Good grief you're great HULY!
And I can't forget Darklore Wings. You're calming words in that email O great master, were enough to make Poe sane again. And to clari chan as well, a new friend. You were the one who wanted to hear more, so here you go (did I say that same thing already?)!
There you go. That's it. I hoped that you like it. I'm sorry about 2 things. The fight, maybe one day I'll revisit it and make it better, and the song. I'm sorry, it sucks. I know. I hope you felt like it was a good ending. I hope I didn't disappoint you guys. You've done so much for me, sticking around and bearing through all the crud, I owe you. I'll read your stories, I promise, just give me time.
Now, go flame me for a bad song, or crappy ending or whatever. I'm wearing fireproof clothes so I can deal.
Arigato gozaimashita to everyone who read.
Rayne