Shooting Stars
Chapter Eighteen: Snowfall
Author's notes: Before your usual notes, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers and loyal readers… this is already the longest single piece of continuous fic I have ever written, and when I broke 200 reviews I swear I cried. You guys are amazing; I'm not sure I could keep going like this without you here to support me. Thank you!
This is definitely the last chapter you people get before I head home for the holidays. I'm not sure I'll have the time or the inclination to write when I have two weeks with my friends and family, so you may have to wait until January for the next bit. Hopefully this can tide you over until then?
This chapter… well, I've wanted to play with Mika again, and I have a morbid fascination with this side of Eiri. He's going to go through a few metamorphoses still before he's the person you know in the series, but he's coming closer with every chapter—which makes the muse terribly difficult to work with, since mostly he just tells me to fuck off when I try to get him to be productive :lol: In the interest of not losing "cute" Eiri, the flashbacks return! There should be something in almost every chapter, because too much fluff at once is stifling, but a little mixed in with angst is golden…
Disclaimer: Don't own anything yet. Who wants to give me Ryuichi in his stage costume for Christmas?
"That was a good one!"
"Good work!"
"Gorgeous! You had them eating out of your hands!"
"I think maybe on the introduction to the second part next time, we need to try more purple backlight; Naoki has been redesigning the lighting scheme-"
"Here, have a towel, you're dripping, Sakuma-san!"
"Here's Kumagoro, I took good care of him for you while you were performing-"
"Noriko-chan, did the new blouse work out? We haven't had the chance to get it refitted yet-"
"You look like you need a drink." A bottle of water was thrust into my hands as I stood in the backstage chaos, letting the familiar demands, compliments and general cacophony wash over me, ignoring it as it wasn't directly aimed at me.
I took a drink gratefully, smiling slightly at the techie—I thought I had seen her before once or twice, but it was hard to keep track of them all—before handing it back. "Thanks."
She grinned at me, winked, then disappeared somewhere in the crowd. Exhaustedly, I pulled off my hat and ran a hand through my hair, wet and sticky with sweat and styling products. My left hand was cramping slightly again; it had the bad habit of hurting if I overworked it when the weather turned wet and it was snowing here in Sapporo, and had been since we had arrived the day before.
This tour was really stretching out; it was almost February and we had only just gotten back into Japan to work our way south after traipsing across China and Korea. I was as grateful for my native language backstage as I was for the length and sheer demand of the tour pace. It had helped me to get through the beginning of winter, and every day was a little easier, except when I saw snow outside my windows.
Over a year now.
I squashed the thought viciously as I had been since the first time I had seen the snow and it had had the unwanted effect of throwing me back into the past. The unwelcome dreams and dark moods came more often when it was snowing. With a sigh, I walked into my dressing room, already full of flowers and presents, and started rummaging around for the painkillers.
The door opened and I smiled when I realized it was Ryuichi-san. "I wish we were in Okinawa already," I murmured as he came in and closed the door behind him. He had a towel around his neck and his hair was soaked almost all the way through. He sprawled on the nearest chair, wearing little more than an imaginative leather vest and pants that looked spray-painted on. Kumagoro was perched on his head, as usual.
He laughed, his face shining with joy and triumph as it always did after a show. "Are you cold?"
"No, wardrobe has yet to send me onstage naked," I said, lifting an eyebrow at him, walking over and pulling the towel from around his neck to wipe at my face with it.
Ryuichi-san's smile was on the mischievous side. "It takes almost five minutes to get into these pants," he informed me.
I looked down at where they rode low, molding narrow hips and hugging long, rangy legs, and felt an appreciative tug of desire—the effect they were surely meant to have. "And to get out of them?" I asked, voice and face innocent.
He smirked, nearly choking on a laugh, his eyes glittering. "Haven't tried yet. Want to go find out?"
Before I could answer the tempting invitation, there was a knock on the door. "Excuse me, Seguchi-san! Telephone call!"
I shrugged an apology to Ryuichi-san as I opened the door to the same young woman who had brought me water earlier. "I thought I asked not to be disturbed on show nights," I said with a touch of impatience.
The girl looked uncomfortable, but that didn't stop her looking around me into the room. Ryuichi-san gave her a lazy wave and she blushed to the roots of her hair. "I know, Seguchi-san, but K-san talked to her and told me to put her through to you."
I realized the cell phone she was holding did, indeed, belong to K-san. That was mystifying enough that I actually brought the phone up to my ear. K-san let very little interfere with our work. "Moshi moshi?"
"Tohma? Have I finally gotten through to you, and not an assistant of an assistant of the water girl? For the love of-"
"Mika-san?" I said incredulously, falling bonelessly into the chair opposite Ryuichi-san's. I hadn't even placed her voice right away, it had been so long. "Is that you?"
Her response was an exclamation of, "Finally!"
Impatiently, I waved the girl who was still gawking in the doorway away. Ryuichi-san was still seated across from me, watching me with a mix of worry and something I couldn't place. "It's been a long time, Mika-san," I said.
"Somewhat longer than it could have been, since I've spent the past week and a half trying to get in touch with you." Her voice still held hints of frustration, but there was affection there as well. "I was beginning to think you were lost, too."
"We just got back from China," I said by way of explanation. "I haven't had my mobile phone since we left Japan a month ago." Slowly, my mind caught up with what she had said. "Wait, what? Lost, too?"
She sighed deeply on the other end of the line "This is a really miserable way to get back in touch," she complained. "I was going to give you a little time to heal; I never expected to be calling you in these circumstances."
"What circumstances?" I asked, confused and wary.
"Eiri's run away. Again." She kept talking but I was no longer listening. There was a look very near panic in Ryuichi-san's blue eyes, probably in reaction to whatever expression was on my face. He stood up to come to me, but I weakly shook my head. He stopped, looking hurt, then retreated back into his chair and continued to watch me. Forcibly, I tuned my mind back into Mika-san's voice. "-just in case, even though I didn't think he would."
I forced myself to focus. "Repeat what you just said, please?" I asked with a faint voice. "The connection is fuzzy."
There was silence for a moment, then she resumed talking. "I said, he's been gone for two weeks. At first, we didn't think anything of it, he does this often, now, vanishing for a day or two, we're almost used to it, but this time he hasn't come back. We've tried calling the people he might have gone to, but no one has seen him. Since the last two times he ran away for extended periods of time he ended up with you, Otousan insisted that we get in touch with you. He seems to be holding on to the idea that Eiri ran to you, so we decided to call just in case-"
"-Even though you didn't think he would," I finished, the fragment of sentence making perfect sense now. "I see." I closed my eyes as a shield from Ryuichi-san's inquisitive gaze as the reality of emotions I had almost forgotten existed washed over me: terror, love and an incredible, tearing pain. "You were right," I said woodenly. "He wouldn't run to me."
She was quiet for a moment, as if choosing her words. "Otousan wanted me to go to Tokyo, to your apartment to… to make sure he wasn't there." She stumbled on the statement. "I tried to do it without calling you, but the security is really top-notch, they won't even let me near the building-"
"Of course," I interrupted her. "I'll call and arrange it so you can." It was as if an old wound, almost scarred over, had suddenly reopened. It was amazing how much it could hurt after all this time. "But you're wasting your time, Mika-san. He's made all his choices where it concerns me; it's highly doubtful he would seek protection from anything by my side again."
Her voice was soft, even gentle, washing over me almost as if she was trying to caress and comfort me with it. "I'm sorry, Tohma … I wish… I really… I've missed you," she finished the disjointed statement finally, altering what she had been going to say. "I've been worrying about you, but you seem a little better when I see you on television. I bought a ticket to your Kyoto show next week, you know, I was going to go see you there, I'm so sorry that I had to call you like this instead…" She trailed off and sniffled, as if fighting back tears.
I felt heavier than lead, and something deep inside me was throbbing painfully. "I'll send you a backstage pass. You shouldn't have wasted your money; I would have sent you however many tickets you wanted if you had asked," I said mechanically, trying to ignore her pity because I didn't want it. "I hope you find…" His name was on the tip of my tongue, but I found those three syllables, too, would hurt if spoken; it was something I had not uttered in months. "I hope you find your brother," I finished.
"I'll keep you informed," she said after another moment, following up with another sniffle. "I'll see you next week," she said, sounding clearly miserable.
"Next week," I agreed. "Don't cry, Mika-san. Everything will be fine." Even to my ears that sounded hollow.
"I'm not crying. I'll see you." She hung up.
For a few moments I sat in silence, my head lowered and my eyes closed. I nearly jerked away from the soft, comforting touch of a cool hand on my forehead before I realized it was Ryuichi-san. Still, I did not relax into the well-meant caress.
"Tohma…" I didn't open my eyes because I knew what I would see in his eyes: concern, worry, and all the pain I was feeling inside would be reflected there. "Did you want me to get you something?" he finally said.
"I want… to be alone for a while," I just said. "Sorry."
Immediately, the hand was withdrawn, as if the touch of my skin burned. "I'll see you back at the hotel," he said quietly. "You're sure you don't want me to stay?"
I knew he was offering to stay so that he could alleviate the pain somehow, share it if he could. "I'm sure."
I heard only the door opening and shutting to alert me to his leaving. Only when I knew I was alone did I lift heavy eyelids to look at my reflection in the make-up mirror across the room. I saw a face devoid of all color under stage make-up and enormous green eyes dilated until they seemed almost black. The colorless lips were trembling slightly.
Inside, emotions were raging, strong, dizzying, wild emotions that I had almost forgotten how to feel. I had almost forgotten I could feel them. Love, first, no weaker after months of being locked away, less sweet than bitter, tinged with insane need and longing. Over it spread a sickly layer of guilt. Terror, next, clawing at everything inside, overpowering rational thought. And layered over everything, indescribable pain, because I knew there was nothing to be done. It made me want to scream.
But I realized, even then, that in the months I had been settling into security… I had never felt this alive.
In the general run of things I usually woke quickly and painlessly. I had never hated mornings like many of those who surrounded me. If the sun was up and I had had a healthy amount of sleep, and often if I hadn't, I was still out of bed easily. However, the morning after the Hokkaido show, my inner alarm clock seemed to be malfunctioning. By the time I crawled out of the unfamiliar hotel bed, the clock on the nightstand showed nearly noon, and I still felt exhausted.
There had been dreams again, and because Ryuichi-san had taken my request to be left alone at face value, there had been no one to turn to to make them go away.
Tohma, let's go outside.
It's snowing. The weather forecast says it's only going to get worse. It might turn into a full-out blizzard.
Exactly. Let's go play!
Eiri-kun, it's below freezing out there.
What, don't you think I can keep you warm?
I stared dully at the window—the light coming into the room was soft and white. It was still snowing. I went to the window to pull the curtains closed and turned on the light, making everything falsely bright and cheerful with electricity. It made me feel a little better.
Do you know, I never thought I'd end up loving winter. I never liked the cold.
Yes, I can tell. You have the heat up to tropical in here.
Hmm… but I like watching the snow falling. It makes me think of you.
The quiet was disconcerting. I had once again grown unaccustomed to mornings alone.
Time slows down when it's snowing, and the world gets smaller. There's nothing except you.
I spent almost half an hour under the shower, a luxury I rarely allowed myself. But everything seemed to be moving incredibly slowly that day, almost as it had those first few days after the events in New York. For a while, I leaned my forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall as the hot water beat down on me. Am I regressing?
I wish I could stay here forever.
You can. I promised, didn't I?
When I was finally ready for the day, I headed into the lobby of the top floor of the hotel, which was a sort of meeting place for those inhabiting the four suites that made up the floor. It was mostly empty—no one was being allowed up here other than the three of us and K-san. The manager was off on business as usual and Ryuichi-san, too, was nowhere to be seen, but Noriko-san was stretched out on one of the couches, wearing an enormous fluffy sweater the color of fresh poppies and drinking something out of a steaming cup. She lifted her eyes from the magazine she had been reading and smiled lightly. "Good morning, Tohma-kun."
"It's afternoon," I said.
She shrugged. "Yeah. It doesn't really matter, since both of us only just crawled out of bed. It might as well be morning." I settled down next to her, and she passed me her cup. "I'm too lazy to call room service again," she told me.
I sipped and found that it was coffee, though too sweet and diluted with cream for my taste. "Thanks."
She only smiled as I passed the cup back and shifted so that she could sit leaning against me. "Anytime. Someone has to take care of you when you're moping."
"I'm not moping," I told her coolly, taking the cup back and sipping again.
"Sure you're not. That would be why Ryu-chan spent the greater part of last night in my room looking like a lost little boy. I remember that look; you've come to me with it before. Did you fight?" She smiled a little. "Come on, tell Okaasan everything, she'll make it better or die trying."
I felt a boundless sadness welling up inside me; she had it all wrong. "We didn't fight. You don't have to worry about it."
She sighed, taking the coffee and finishing off the cup. "All right," she agreed with me. "You didn't fight. Will you indulge me and let me worry about you anyway?"
"Nothing's been able to stop you yet."
"There is that," she agreed with a little laugh. "Admit it, without me to mother you, you would still not know how to dress yourself properly."
Before I could counterattack, the elevator opened and K-san walked into the lobby with a tray of pastries and a coffeepot. "Awake? Good, I was starting to wonder if the two of you were ever going to rejoin the living," he said. He looked at the one empty cup on the end table. "Let me guess, hungry but too lazy to call room service?"
"Give me that," Noriko-san demanded by way of an answer. "It's not our fault we're lazy if we're overworked." She grabbed up the first pastry on the tray and began devouring it.
K-san took a seat across from us and watched her with amusement. "Not hungry, Seguchi?"
"Not particularly," I told him.
He looked at me for a minute, considering. "I apologize for the phone call last night," he said suddenly. "I thought it would be better to put her through to you than not."
"Don't apologize," I said exhaustedly. Noriko-san, clearly having not heard of this, looked at both of us inquisitively. "It was important."
"But it threw you off balance."
"I'm perfectly on balance. I'm just thinking." And oh, how I wish some days I could stop.
Even if it gets complicated, I'll stay. I'll be with you. Always.
"As a matter of fact, K-san, I'm going to need to ask you a favor," I said, knowing that even though Mika-san hadn't asked, my own words and emotions locked me into taking care of it.
You can always rely on me. I promise I will never let you fall.
"There's someone I need to have located, and as quickly as possible…"
As I expected, K-san was quick and efficient. He had news for me three days later, in Sendai. "Whoever you had looking for him before is incompetent," he informed me. "He's still in Kyoto, though the neighborhood he's holed up in leaves much to be desired. Did you want me to have him picked up and escorted home?"
I shook my head. "No," I said, surprising myself. "We'll be in Kyoto in a few days. I'll go get him myself."
"I don't know that I approve. The district he's hiding in is better known for drugs and teen gangs than anything else. It's not safe."
"K-san." I fixed him with a pointed glare. "I said, I'll go get him myself." The last thing the Uesugis needed was K-san's questionable acquaintances dragging their son home. They had enough problems and (and this was paramount) I felt loath to give him up to somewhat hostile-minded strangers.
He looked surprised for a moment to see me standing up to him, but then his face broke out into a huge smile. "Seguchi-san, have it your way." He had been treating me more and more as an equal since New York. Generally when he tagged an honorific onto my name, it meant he was particularly pleased with something I had done.
"I'm grateful for your help. I'll take care of it from here." I'll take care of him, whatever it takes.
Even if he no longer remembers or wants me to.
K-san had been right about the neighborhood. It was hard not to wrinkle my nose in distaste. The buildings were rickety and the paint was peeling, and I knew I looked entirely out of place, even though I had dressed down in hopes of avoiding notice. K-san had insisted on a car with a driver about three times my size to bring me here. As I stepped out of it I huddled into my long, black coat and pretended to be largely indifferent to the people watching me. I waved at the driver to keep him from leaving the car; I seriously doubted I'd need the bodyguard.
I found the address that had been given me easily enough, a small apartment on the second floor of one of the rickety buildings. The stairwell smelled like stale cigarette smoke and beer and I wished for a few moments to be somewhere, anywhere else. It wasn't that the place itself had such an effect on me, but imagining him here hurt.
I had to knock three times before the door was opened by a boy about Eiri-kun's age. He had bleached hair and more ear piercings than Ryuichi-san, and he towered over me by a good head. "What?" he said instead of a greeting, glaring down at me.
I hadn't really been expecting particular courtesy. "Uesugi Eiri," I told him, my voice coolly polite. "Now, please."
He blinked down at me as though the fact that I had talked was astounding to him. "Man, what the hell?"
"Now, please," I repeated. Somehow, after associating so long with K-san, this struck me as more annoying than intimidating. After getting so close to him after such a long time, anything that was stopping my seeing him was not welcome.
Another boy joined him in the doorway, a half-smoked cigarette sticking out of his mouth. "The hell, Kazu?"
I barely kept in a comment about being astounded by the richness of their vocabulary. "I really hate having to repeat myself," I said instead. "Especially when I've asked nicely."
"Hey, fuck you, pretty boy," said the second boy.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Tempting as that is, no thanks."
He looked angry enough to lunge at me, but before he could make up his mind to do it, another voice, this one achingly familiar, called from inside, "What's with the noise? Damn it!" Moments later, he appeared at the door too, his eyes blank, then filling with disbelief as he saw me.
It was hard not to react to his appearance; it was like a punch in the stomach. His hair had grown too long and mostly hid those fantastic golden eyes, and his clothes were dirty and rumpled. He was thin, almost dangerously so, and the clothes hung off of his frame. He had a cigarette in his hand, too, though he seemed to have forgotten about it. "The hell?" he said.
"I'm so glad to see you're learning so much from your new friends, Eiri-kun," I said coldly. It was so surreal; it was him in front of me, but not him. I barely recognized him. His voice had finished changing and he had grown again; he was taller than me now. "It's time to go now."
"Hey, who does this guy think he-"
Eiri-kun waved his hand dismissively. "Drop it, Kazu. I'll deal." The other two boys shrugged but walked into the depths of the apartment. I heard a television turning on. "Why are you here, Seguchi-san?"
"I should think that's obvious," I said marveling at my coolness in dealing with this new person I had never seen before. There was a glimmer under his hair; I realized he must have had his ears pierced. "We're going. Now."
"I don't want to go anywhere," he told me. His smile was not kind as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and took a long drag. I reached up and pulled it out of his hands, throwing it on the ground and stepping on it. He never stopped smiling as he blew the bitter smoke in my face. "What if I say no?"
"Then I go back to my original plan of having you dragged out of here against your will by people who are a great deal less sympathetic." I forced myself to smile softly. "I'm sure your… stellar companions would be less than thrilled."
He watched me for a long moment, then shrugged. "Whatever. I was getting bored anyway." He walked out into the stairwell and shut the door behind him.
"You don't have anything?" I asked.
"It's all worthless shit, anyway," he said. "Well? Changed your mind already?"
Wordlessly, I followed him down the stairs, pointed him into the car, and gave the address of the temple when I was also inside. Silently, the driver pulled away from the curb.
"Damn, the old man's going to be pissed," Eiri-kun said forlornly. "Unless he's decided to croak already."
I gave him a disapproving look. "That's not a very polite way to talk about your own father."
"Yeah, fortunately, I'm not a very polite person," he said. "Do you have a cigarette? You wrecked my last one earlier."
"I don't smoke," I told him. "Neither should you."
"Fuck that," was his immediate response.
He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, relaxing. I could see clearly now that he had had his ears pierced. The little silver hoop might have suited him, if he didn't look so run-down. He was so thin… "When was the last time you ate?" I asked him.
He shrugged, not opening his eyes. "I ate something at some point. Probably."
I wished there was something in the car I could have made him eat. As it was, looking at him was painful. "Have you been living on nicotine?"
"Yeah, more or less," he said flippantly. "What the hell do you care?"
"If I didn't care, I wouldn't be wasting the afternoon before a show in that dump," I snapped, my nerves frayed.
"No one asked you to get involved with my problems. I never asked you to play savior."
You'll... stay with me, right? I feel so safe around you. Everything makes sense. So will you? Even though everything's so complicated?
We were pulling up into the temple's drive by this point. "Stay out of trouble, Eiri-kun," I said, feeling weighed down and exhausted. "If you don't, I'll have to come after you. And I will find you. Every. Single. Time."
Even if it gets complicated, I'll stay. I'll be with you. Always.
He opened his eyes to look confusedly at me. "I'd almost think you actually gave a damn."
I closed my eyes against a fresh wave of pain, but opened them a moment later, knowing I couldn't afford to be weak right now. "Think whatever you like." I pulled an envelope containing a backstage pass out of my coat pocket and handed it to him. "Give this to your sister," I told him. "And stay out of trouble."
He opened the door and climbed out of the car. "Yeah, whatever, Oniisan." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
He jogged up to the house, opened and shut the door. I watched the lit windows for a few moments before turning to the driver. "We have a show to do tonight." Don't think about how much it hurts. Don't think about how much he's hurting both of you. Lock it away. "K-san shoots people who are late."
"Yes, sir." The car squealed out of the drive.
