Title: The Wretched Birthday

Author: Araki

Disclaimer: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami

Summary: Shuichi's birthday is not what it always seems to be, and not always a fun thing – as Hiro knows.

"Hiro! Guess what, guess what! Yuki's taking me out on a date for my twenty-first birthday! Isn't that so cool? I wonder where we're going? Oh! I can't wait!"
The cashier's smile seemed almost too friendly as she rang up the guitar picks after the strings. It seemed to get larger as she tried looking into the hidden eyes of the young redhead standing at checkout, looking as bored as possible. Or he was trying to ignore the techno blaring from the surround system of the music shop. It didn't matter what he was doing, he was a customer, wanting guitar strings, a few picks, and blank scales so he could jot down some notes for tunes in his free time. How limited it had become.

At the age of twenty-two, Hiro Nakano hadn't changed a bit. Well besides the fact that, slung over his shoulder, his backpack was heavy with medical journals and textbooks, a three-inch binder of notes, and blank flash cards waiting to be used for studying before the dreaded final. He only had five days before his med school entrance exam, and Hiro swore that he was going to pass this time! He promised Shuichi. Though it was promised on Hiro's behalf, Shuichi never replied to agreement. Debate was still open if Shuichi would just give any message that he didn't want Hiro to quit this easily because one small problem in their dreams.

After the…accident that broke up BAD LUCK, Hiro had sworn he was going to go back to his mother's wishes and become a doctor; he was the least he owed her. Suguru had effortlessly flung his hands in the air at this comment and declared he was going abroad, to the United States, for some Ivy League University that had accepted him. Hiro smiled to himself as he lifted the bag of few bought items and left the store. Shuichi would have disapproved of BAD LUCK's breaking up, but it was inevitable. No one was to blame, though at one point Hiro would have pointed all fingers at Eiri "Yuki" Uesugi. He couldn't anymore, for Eiri had done all possible to stop this from happening.

Shuichi…

Hiro took a deep breath and walked down the street towards his apartment. He dreaded going that way, but it was the fastest route. Through the "scene". That's what he called it, because he couldn't accept the fact that in a matter of seconds everything he'd known and loved had vanished. Hiro hunched his shoulders in defense as he passed over the high traffic road. A truck hissed at him, the engine making horrible grinding noises, but Hiro kept up a strong bearing when he turned down the road, in the direction of both his apartment complex as well as Eiri Yuki's old apartment complex.

"Nah, I don't need a ride home today, Hiro! Yuki said he's picking me up and we're going right on our date. Hm? No, he didn't tell me where we're going yet, but I know it's going to be great because he's being more conniving than usual!"

The iron gates that closed off the outer world from the upper-class apartments were littered from edge to edge. Not with trash of any sort, but by vines upon vines of white roses, signaling innocence for whomever they were for. Boxes of pocky were strung every few bars, and under them, hanging from string, were letters, some even had small toys. Hiro stared straightforward; enable to stare at these cards or roses for too long.

Shuichi loved white roses. Actually, Shuichi loved most everything, but roses of the white color were his favorite. He used to paint. Shuichi did. Long before BAD LUCK and everything else that aroused their senior year of high school, Shuichi was an artist. He didn't seem like the patient type, but Shuichi loved sitting around and painting scenery. He had talent for many artistic idealisms, Hiro would give the pink haired fool that.

The ex-guitarist snorted as he turned away from the building towards the direction of his apartment. He hoped not to make any other pointless stops on his way home. He had an exam to study for. On his way home, he always had memories like this. He couldn't handle the fact that Shuichi had just left him, without a good bye. A good bye would be sweet, even right now. A mysterious phone call. It didn't matter. He wouldn't be suspicious. Possibly grateful. Maybe he should call Suguru; the mouthy boy always had something to say.

The noise of the city was deafening. Every few seconds a car alarm would go off, just like the night it happened. What had been the date? Hiro could remember; Shuichi was so excited that Yuki was taking him on a date. Their second date that hopefully didn't involve "Mickey". Hiro smirked. He remembered that date. The only date from hell he'd ever seen. It seemed like it belonged in one of those god-awful comedy movies from the United States. Hiro smirked. Peachy.

"Good evening, Mr. Nakano!" The elderly old landlady of his apartment complex greeted him as he turned the corner. Hiro didn't have the tongue to respond. "You seem better today, and I'm sure tomorrow will be an even better!" She smiled brightly, but it didn't really reach the young redhead as he walked dazedly inside the apartment complex, the same words echoing into his young mind as a car passed the street going way too fast.

"Mr. Nakano? This is Tokyo General, we're having some trouble trying to get in contact with the family of Shuichi Shindou, and you seem to be the top of the list. Could you please come down to the hospital to sign some papers concerning the patient, Shuichi Shindou?"

Opening his door, Hiro stepped into the quiet room and assaulted it with a loud scream that echoed. He tossed his book bag somewhere within the room, he wasn't sure. He could here the countless books breaking something of value, but he just didn't care. Couldn't find the consideration as that night replayed constantly inside his head.

Shuichi had been so happy when Eiri Yuki came to pick him up at NG and take him out to dinner at a conservative Japanese restaurant. The two had had a great time, talked and been romantic. Sources claimed Eiri had asked Shuichi to spend the rest of their lives together. The boy obliged all too quickly, hugging the novelist tightly. Smiles all around between them when they finally left two hours later. Shuichi had a small buzz from the sake he had drunk, under the careful observation of his higher tolerant lover. They got in the car and started off.

Eyewitnesses from the scene and careful investigation stated everything else from that night. Eiri Yuki wasn't driving as quickly as he usually did, probably savoring the end of the night while Shuichi dozed quietly in the seat next to him. As the novelist was pulling out of the intersection to turn towards his apartment. Probably while glancing to make certain Shuichi was still asleep, Eiri never saw the truck coming his way at top speed. The driver, a young man having just started his job, fell asleep at the wheel.

The impact was so swift. Shuichi was crushed from the first point of impact and died on the spot. Eiri Yuki had been badly injured as his Mercedes was pushed with the truck and into a building. He survived only long enough to realize that Shuichi was dead. That night, Tokyo, Japan, and the world lost two incredibly gifted men while the driver of the truck walked away with minor injuries. Tohma and Hiroshi were the first ones to hear about the horrific accident.

Hiroshi clutched the sides of his head, sniffling and panting to stop crying as he stared at his book bag and the numerous medical textbooks falling out of it and piling the floor. Twenty-one years ago, a young woman bore a pink haired boy at eight-twenty-five at night, and twenty-one years later, at that very same day and time, that woman lost her only son, Shuichi Shindou.