Frailty

Shuichi sang his passion into the microphone. His pulse throbbed in his throat and a sake buzz left him lightheaded by the time the song was over. Ever the performer, he made a sweeping bow to his audience of one.

Hiro smiled at him and applauded his friend's performance politely. Shuichi's singing wasn't in its best form when he'd been drinking, but there was no one else to hear it anyway.

Shuichi had called Hiro's cell phone earlier 'just to talk,' but Hiro could tell just by Shuichi's voice that he needed more than that. He quickly made up a story that he was in the mood to rent a private karaoke box and invited Shuichi out.

He gave Shuichi a ride on the back of his motorcycle, which Hiro knew he liked. He knew he would end up driving the singer home anyway. If Shuichi was as upset as he sounded, he would probably be drunk of the night. Now they found themselves holed up in the private booth, paying by the hour to sing bad pop and Nittle Grasper songs together.

Shuichi was used to singing the lead and opted for more solo pieces than duets, but that suited Hiro fine. Hiro had never been proud of his singing voice and had only suggested this location of all places because he knew it was a sure bet for cheering up his friend. Nothing made Shuichi happy quite like singing his heart out.

Shuichi collapsed back onto the padded bench, spent from singing and passed the mic to Hiro. Face flushed and breathing hard, Shuichi almost looked like someone who had expended himself sexually rather than vocally.

Hiro was reluctant to break the mood, but he had always been the type who preferred to confront problems rather than avoid them. Rather than directly ask his friend how the relationship with Yuki was going, he decided to bring up the relationship in a more indirect route.

"Things must be going pretty well for Yuki lately," Hiro said casually, pretending to peruse the song listings. "His latest novel is really good. I can see why it's selling so well."

"I guess," Shuichi said. He scuffed his foot on the tile floor sullenly. Had everone in the world read the book but him?

"You didn't care for it?" Hiro asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't read it," Shuichi said. He sighed and scratched at his hair, feeling uncomfortable. "I mean… Well, I tried to read it. But the kanji is just so hard. I feel like I can't get through a single paragraph without a dictionary. You remember how much I hated our literature classes in high school."

Hiro nodded knowingly. "I don't think you would have got through them if I didn't give you the test answers."

"See? Exactly!" Shuichi said dismally. "It just… makes me feel dumb. Like even if I could read through it no problem, Yuki would probably just think I don't 'get it' or… What if I read it and it's really the best thing ever?"

Hiro cocked his head at Shuichi inquisitively. "Why would that be a bad thing?"

"It's already hard enough living in Yuki's shadow," Shuichi said, "I feel… frozen every time I try writing lyrics ever since I've been with him. And that's just from his reputation for being a good writer. If I really read his stuff and saw for myself, how could I ever write lyrics for Bad Luck again?"

"Mmm." Hiro nodded, deep in thought. That was certainly a valid point. He didn't relish the thought of Shuichi getting another bout of writer's block. And despite the way he teased Shuichi sometimes, he knew that it wouldn't be the same if he or Fujisaki tried to write the lyrics instead. "I see what you're saying, but what if he thinks you're just not interested? I mean, he listens to you talk about Bad Luck all the time."

"But that's because I talk about Bad Luck all the time!" Shuichi said, exasperated, "How can I listen to him talk about his books if he never says anything about them? And there's no way I can be the one to bring it up. He'll probably think anything I have to say about his books is stupid."

Hiro shrugged at this. "I dunno, man, but the heroine in his latest book was a lot like you in many ways… I think you'd like it. Yuki's more of an expressive guy than he lets on. At least in his writing. I know you're not a fan of that kind of book, but, seriously, maybe he's not the biggest fan of our kind of music."

Shuichi pressed his knees together and fidgeted with his fingers in his lap. Why did Hiro always have to think things out so far? And worse, why did it have to be so right all the time?

"I don't even know what kind of music he likes. Maybe none. He never talks about it," Shuichi said.

Hiro tossed his hair over his shoulder. "All I'm sayin' is that there's probably a lot you could learn about him even if he doesn't talk about it. You're always saying you want to know more about him, but he doesn't talk about himself. Why not just read his novels or go to the websites he frequents? I'll bet you could learn a lot more about him that way without having to even ask him directly."

Despite his attempts to cling to his self-pitying mood, Shuichi couldn't help but feel a gleeful optimism at this prospect. He always relished finding out more about Yuki. This could be the perfect opportunity. He bit his lips together, trying not to smile as he already began to plan his 'love reconnaissance.'

"I'll even tell you the summary of what the book's about so you can kind of get the 'cliff notes' version before you read it," Hiro said, "Just like in high school."

"Thanks, man," Shuichi said, visibly cheered. "…Now hand over that mic if you're not going to use it or I'll tie you up with the cord!"

Hiro laughed and handed the microphone back. "I'd hate to separate the master from his craft," he said.

The guitarist looked on in amazement as Shuichi sang the next song. The passion Shuichi wielded on stage was back in full force. And even though Hiro knew he was the only one who could hear Shuichi's voice, he could tell his best friend truly sang for a different audience of one—the enigmatic blond man who sometimes lurked in the back row of the concert hall.