Shining Acrylic

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or any of its characters.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all the people who reviewed my first chapter ::hugs:: Sorry it took me so long to get this one out. I'm not really happy with it, but eh, such is life. I'll try to make chapter three really good. Tatsuha-kun!

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Chapter 2

Perhaps they kept the lights so bright to make the stark white walls look less dull. Or perhaps the walls were white to remind you that this was a place of business, not play. The walls would always glow as you passed through the corridors, reminding you of where you were, and how lucky you were to be. No windows. That was the worst. Ryuichi passed through the halls of his recording floor, never seeing true sunlight, except for the occasional door someone had forgotten to close. The offices in NG were enormous, with high rising windows, cleaned to the point of invisibility. Touma's office was like that.

He and Kumagoro were back. Back in business… maybe. Ryuichi hummed a soft song to himself, his black and tan converses making a soft padding noise, almost to a perfect beat of "The Rage Beat" as he walked to the soda machines.

Occasionally, to jazz things up, they'd throw a picture on the wall, like "Flowers in a Pot, so-and-so yen", or "The sad man, 100,000 yen". On Shuichi's floor, there was a great painting of this old, wrinkly jazz musician… some American guy. But it was really cool! Ryuichi smiled, punching in the winning combination for an orange juice. There were so many colors all in one place. He would have bought it, but he got to see the painting more right where it was, on the wall at NG.

Ryuichi popped the cap on his orange juice, raising the bottle to Kumagoro's mouth for a quick sip, before he took one of his own. The orange liquid soaked inside the pink fuzz of the bunny's mouth creating an orange juice mustache, which Ryuichi hastily wiped away with his sleeve. Nittle Grasper wasn't recording anything today. Touma was on the phone as usual. Noriko wasn't even at NG as far as Ryuichi knew. Pointless day. Somehow, he knew it would be like this. Just…coming in made the singer feel more at ease, like he was actually accomplishing something. He sighed a bit, the air stirring the brown strands framing his face, as he walked to the elevator, punching the down button. The intent for today was to forget. Forget it all. He leaned against the side of the elevator, pressing the number seven. Seven, the lucky number, also the number of Bad Luck's recording floor. Someone had a sick sense of humor at NG, and it might have been Touma.

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"Ohayo Mr. Wrinkly Man!" A cheerful voice rang through the halls of the busy floor, as soon as the elevator doors glided open. In the midst, a stunned K stood, blue eyes wide behind darkly tinted sunglasses.

"Wrinkly man? ..." K lifted his hand, allowing his finger tips to graze his smooth cheeks. "What are you talking about Ryuichi? In five years, you'll be joining me."

"K!" Ryuichi sprung from the elevator, hitting him with missile-like force. Most times, K was prepared to dodge, but Ryuichi's recent greeting still had the older man a bit shaken. Ryuichi failed to knock the tall American down, yet he did push K back a few steps.

"Is Shuichi here?"

"Ryu, you're making me miss the elevator! Get off!" K lunged for the doors, but the extra weight of Ryuichi slowed his movements. There was no time to shake off the lead singer. Ryuichi could attach like cheap gum to a sneaker.

Just before the doors closed, K managed to press the button again, reopening them. "Get off or you're coming with me!"

"Ahhh! No K! I'm visiting Shuichi! Kumagoro and I are visiting!"

"Then why the hell are you bothering me?" K trudged his way into the elevator, yet Ryuichi still stayed pinned to his shirt… outside the doors. It was like a game of tug of war, and Ryuichi would have lost if not for the leverage his converse sneakers were giving him outside of the elevator. Originally designed for use in the wrestling ring, Ryuichi knew the sneakers come in handy some day. The doors, confused, closed a little, then opened, only to slightly close again, and open.

"The wrinkly man is right behind me, K. You have to look at him, just for a minute!"

K shot him a dubious look. "Ryuichi, there's a very beautiful young woman behind you. I suggest you apologize."

"Wha-?" Ryuichi turned his head, and smiled at the stranger. "Sorry, I didn't mean you. Sorry for holding up the elevator but it's all K's fault." He pulled on K's shirt with vigor. "You're in her way."

"You're in her way," K lazily corrected, stepping out from the elevator. Ryuichi could be such an idiot at times.

The woman bowed low, a smile appearing on her lips. It was impressive to see such a young woman act so professional, yet Ryuichi could crack just about anyone. "Thank you Sakuma-san."

K smirked, watching as the girl entered the elevator and disappeared from sight. "Ah, so popular Ryuichi. It's strange. I believe I was the one who did her the favor, not you."

Popular? How could anyone remain popular for so long? Ryuichi eyes remained transfixed on the steel elevator doors. All things came to an end, and this was just the beginning of that end. Ryuichi's smile, meant solely to please, gradually began to fade along with the passing seconds. It was an exquisite feeling to be loved, even when the people loving you never truly knew you. Money meant next to nothing. It was all about the music, how it made him feel… sharing that feeling… like on the stage several nights past. He could always sing at home in the shower. Living alone, no one would hear it, though the sounds echoed, magnified by the walls of empty rooms.

After being Ryuichi's manager for so long, K was used to both sides of Ryuichi. He could change at the drop of a hat, and sometimes it was just better to let him think for a few minutes. A few minutes were enough. Gently, K laid a hand on Ryuichi's shoulder. "I recall… something about a wrinkly man, Ryu."

"Hai." Ryuichi turned, fluid grace replacing his bouncy movements. "It's a great painting, K. The colors are like cheer.. or like a rainbow that makes me cheerful. Sometimes," he glanced over at K, his eyes taking on a blue shimmer. "Sometimes… you have to stop and look around, K, even here."

"I'm looking. I see no painting," K smiled, humming his words.

Ryu stepped around him. Sure enough, the spot where the jazz musician had hung was now empty, as white and pale as the rest of the walls. Yet… a little to the side, there was a new painting that caught Ryuichi's eye. Colorful… like the old musician… yet shiny. It was a mirage of color intertwining with black shadows and pink flesh. It all seemed so familiar, so emotional filled, like he'd been living inside the painting for years, upon years.

K laughed, watching the hyper musician so mesmerized by a simple picture. "Listen Ryuichi, I have to run to make a meeting. Don't bother Shuichi and the others too much." He patted the singer's short hair, before making his exit. For once, there was a stroke of good luck.

Ryuichi kneeled in the chair under the painting, tucking his legs underneath him, like a child settling in for story time. Vaguely, he was aware of K's presence leaving him. His fingers reached up, running along the same paths as the brushstrokes through the rainbow paradise. The jazz musician was a great painting, with beautiful colors to examine, but this painting was different. This painting, with no name or price, seemed to take him back to something. Like the last concert. The silhouette in turquoise reminded him so much of Touma. The lighting was perfect, like the lighting at the concert. Three performers bathed in the color of light, surrounded by darkness; fighting darkness.

It had been so long since Ryuichi was in this building, much less this floor of NG. This painting could have been hanging here for months, but pure heart told him it was recently created. A creation inspired by Nittle Grasper's last concert. Ryuichi felt no need to close his eyes to imagine. Every memory fled back to him, just from a simple scene. This is what that concert looked like…to a fan. Time seemed to slow down. Absorbed. The person who created this, Ryuichi thought, had to be just as passionate as himself. Passionate for music, maybe. Passionate for art, surely. Ryuichi smiled dimly, with quiet praise. This artist had admired his gift of music, it was only right that he took the proper time to admire the gift of artistry. Ryuichi examined himself, the middle figure, shining in purple, streaked by shadow. This person… he or she seemed to understand… the point of everything. Feelings. Beat. Emotions. Life. So many other people saw Nittle Grasper as but a mere image. Pretty faces. Catchy songs.

Time. As with music, it was so easy to become absorbed in the colors, forgetting time, forgetting self.

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The ding was a soft sound, almost like music. Ryuichi had been stuck hearing it several times over, yet he never paid it much mind.

"Ryuichi…?" K blinked, catching sight of him immediately. "What are you still doing here?" Ryuichi Sakuma had a very short attention span for nearly all things. There was no way he could have been staring at that painting for a full hour. No way. K shook his head, walking up to him.

"K.." Ryuichi's voice conveyed complete seriousness. "I can't read this signature. Right here in the black, in the corner. Can you see it?"

K lowered his eyes to the corner of the painting, a spark of interest suddenly igniting. "Hmmm… that's interesting. He signed it in black paint, over a partly black background. Hard to see without one of these, huh?" From his leather case, K whipped out a magnifying glass holding it up to the exhibit in question. After a few seconds of examination, K frowned. He reached up, and lifted the painting off the wall, setting it down onto the floor. Ryuichi hopped off the chair, settling beside K, as though they were examining something truly secretive, like a treasure map. "This is much better… Hmm… It looks like that one says Tatsuha."

"Tatsuha?" Ryuichi smiled brightly, hugging Kumagoro. "Quick! Quick! The second part!"

"Hold on.." K picked up the frame, turning the signature to different angles of light to discern the name. Ryuichi certainly had perked up at the prospect of discovering the name of this artist.

"A-Ano, K-san… you're not really allowed to take that off the wall!"

K laughed, smiling. "Haha! Sorry! It's already taken offed."

Mei, the receptionist sighed, watching with acute stress, at the actions of the pair. She'd been told specifically that that painting belonged to Touma Seguchi. There were never any special instructions to take care of it, but such instructions could be implied. It was bad enough that Ryuichi Sakuma had been staring at it for an hour like he was going to eat it. Now Mr. K was handling it like a discarded pizza box!

"Please be careful!"

"What are you two doing?" Hiro bent over the pair, leaning a bit on K's shoulder to get a look. "Wasn't that on the wall?"

"Yes! Can you read he second part to this name? First part is… Tatsuha."

"Uesagi!" Shuichi popped up behind Hiro, crashing into him. "Let me have a look! Why did you take this painting off the wall, K?"

"Uesagi!" K suddenly burst into triumphant laughter. "Good work Shuichi! Brilliant deduction!" A second later, Shuichi was barreled over by Ryuichi and Kumagoro. All happening so fast.

"Uesagi? …Tatsuha Uesagi?" Shuichi blinked, obviously confused. "I got it right? Wait.. why did you take the painting of the wall? Who painted it?"

"Tatsuha Uesagi!" Ryuichi sang happily. "I like the painting a lot, so K took it off the wall for me. I hope you won't be sad and miss it. You can come visit it, na no da."

"Tatsuha … paints?"

"You can't take that painting, it belongs to Seguchi Touma!" Mei shrieked, running over and snatching it from K. She gave Ryuichi the evil eye, knowing he coveted it.

"Touma?" Ryuichi stood up, holding out his hand for Shuichi. "Oo.. think he'd sell it? It's too pretty to be sold. Touma probably bought it wanting it all for himself! I know! I'll contact Tatsuha Uesagi-san and ask him to paint me one too!"

"Yes, yes.. good.. you do that Ryuichi-kun." Mei hung up the painting again, her hands shaking like leafs. Hiro noticed. This woman was definitely working on the wrong floor.

Shuichi took Ryuichi's hand, pulling himself up from the hard carpeting. He and Hiro were just going out for lunch, and all of a sudden, the day had turned into a nightmare. This was bad. If the painting belonged to Touma, if had to be painted by the same Tatsuha Uesagi he knew. Ryuichi wanted to meet him. Bad, bad idea. Time for a plan.

"Sakuma-san.. the painting isn't that great. I think it's kind of dull."

In that moment, all fell silent. For seconds, Ryuichi simply watched the young singer with a questioning gaze, as though he were appraising Shuichi's input. Quite determinedly, he'd made up his mind. "I like it and so does Kumagoro. That's two against one!" he snapped, with finality, making Kumagoro nod his head for special emphasis. He didn't want to fight with Shuichi, but Shuichi started it by calling the painting dull.

"Ah...well…" Obviously, plan number one wasn't going to work. Shuichi ran a hand through his pink locks, trying to think up plan number two. Sapped for good ideas, he decided on telling Ryuichi the truth.

"Sakuma-san, I know the person that painted it… the painting." Shuichi gestured over to it, vaguely. Ryuichi noted that he didn't seem thrilled to be talking about the artist. "Well, he's a hardcore Grasper fan, and I wouldn't trust him around you. He'd probably kidnap you, or… or something like that." Shuichi blushed, looking down at his sneakers.

"It's Touma's painting. Touma knows him. It's fine, Shuichi." Ryuichi tried not to seem insulted. Everyone always acted like he couldn't take care of himself. He was used to it with K, being that K was his ex-manager, and five years his senior. But Shuichi, Ryuichi glanced back at him, Shuichi was years younger.

"Ryuichi, you might want to consider what Shuichi says." K looked concerned. He had always been oriented towards protection.

Ryuichi smiled, though it came baring more seriousness then he'd intended. It was like Touma's smile; well-placed for a purpose. "Don't worry Shuichi. I'll have someone else go for me. I'm too busy, and I don't even know where he lives or anything." He touched Kumagoro's nose to Shuichi's. How did it happen that he could lie so well? It was a white lie, he told himself. K still looked suspicious, but it mattered little. "Cheer up! Lets get lunch!" He took hold of Shuichi's hand, pulling him down the hall, leaving the painting behind, seemingly forgotten.

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To be continued…