Part One
The bright light shown brilliantly through the crack underneath the door. The pink-haired, usually excited singer stared at it, drawn to it like a moth to a flame or a kitten to a flower.
Shuichi Shindou wanted to go to the office, to talk to his lover who was writing so diligently on the other side of the door. He wouldn't let himself though. The last few times he did Yuki had gone so far as to throw him out of the apartment for the night out of sheer annoyance. The singer didn't know about Hiro, but her knew Ayaka was already irritated with his nightly appearance and he felt horrible for imposing on them time and time again.
With an unexpected sigh escaping passed his chapped lips, Shuichi crawled tiredly towards the phone and dialed Tatsuha's number. His lover's younger brother had moved from Kyoto to be with his boyfriend a few months earlier. He continued his regular training as a monk, just didn't live at the temple with his father.
"Hello," a deep, breathy voice answered after the second ring.
"Tatsuha," Shuichi started before he was interrupted by a voice on the other line whining.
"Tatsuha," Ryuichi cried in the background. "You said you'd watch my video with me! Kumagoro heard you promise!"
"I'll be right there, Ryu," Tatsuha called before talking back into the phone. "Sorry 'bout that, Shuichi."
Grasping the handle of the phone loosely, Shuichi's voice lowered to a disappointed tone. "No, no; it's fine. I was just curious about what you were doing," he rushed out. "Sorry I bothered you."
"Shuichi, wait! You're not -!" Tatsuha's voice cut off as the once hyper singer hung the phone back on the cradle.
What's wrong with me Shuichi thought, slumping down on the couch. His eyes shifted back to the office door and tears slipped down his cheeks. "Yuki," he croaked through a tight voice.
Some hours later the door to the office opened and the light clicked off. Yuki thought it was unusual that he hadn't had to tell of his hyper-active lover at all that night. Curiosity got the better of him and called it an early night.
The first thing the writer noticed was the blinking light on the answering machine. He pushed the play button and the irritating robotic voice filled the silent room.
"You have three new messages," the womanized machine voice said.
The first message was the unsteady voice of Shuichi's producer, sounding like he was having a nervous breakdown (Nothing new there Yuki thought). Sakano rambled on for a bit and it wasn't until the deep voice of Bad Luck's manager said in the background that the actual message came out. All he wanted was for Shuichi to be on time the next day when coming in.
Shuichi did mention something about working on the newest album.
On the second message it was his lover's band mate, Hiro. He heard his ex-finance's voice huff something in annoyance before the guitarist started talking. He wanted to know if Shuichi was settled for the night. Eiri cocked an eyebrow at that, not knowing why Shuichi would need a place to stay for the night.
The third message peaked his confusion the most though. It was the singer of Nittle Grasper and his younger brother at the same time, both sounded exceedingly worried. They were pleading into the phone for Shuichi to pick up and the writer had the idea that the only reason they didn't keep talking was because the tape ran out of room.
After the writer rewound the tape he looked over to the couch where he noticed his pink-haired lover sleeping restlessly, a pained expression on his face. Yuki walked slowly over to the sofa, weary of the creaky floorboard placed in the center of the room.
Covering his usually energetic roommate with his coat, he couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with his singer. He noticed how quiet and more withdrawn he'd been. Also, that Shuichi had been leaving earlier than he used to and not bothering to sneak into his bedroom to wake him.
Yuki glanced at the sleeping man's watch and then moved quietly over to the phone. It may have been late, but her knew better than to think his brother-in-law would be asleep and even more so that the manipulative blonde wouldn't accept his call. He dialed the number and tapped his fingers impatiently on his knee, listening to the dull ring.
"This is Seguchi," the cheerful voice on the other line stated.
"It's me," Yuki said grimly.
"Ah, Eiri, this certainly is a surprise. What can I do for you?"
The writer was silent, not sure if he should continue or call the thing off as him working too much and sleeping too little. "It's about Shuichi," Yuki finally decided on. "Has he been acting strangely at the studio?"
"No stranger than normal. Why do you ask?"
"He hasn't been down at all? Or quiet? Anything at all," the writer inquired, ignoring Tohma's question.
"On the contrary, Eiri, our Mr. Shindou has been quite the busy and hyperactive worker like always."
"I see; alright then," the writer hung up before the president of NG could say anything else. His golden eyes glanced over his sleeping lover's form once more and Yuki wondered what was going on in Shuichi's head.
The next day Shuichi was gone before Yuki had woken up, just like the first few times. Yuki woke up from lack of the boisterous singer breaking into his room. He was hoping to catch Shuichi before he left, but he'd have to wait until the singer got home to speak to him.
The music ended and Shuichi stepped away from the microphone. He was gasping hungrily for breath and sweat dripped from his brow and soaked into his shirt. The singer collapsed tiredly into the stool behind him and waited until the red light above him went out so he could leave. When it did go out he was bombarded by his two partners and the other people who helped to record the music.
"Way to go, Shuichi," Hiro cheered, clapping him on the back.
"I believe that was your best recording ever, Mr. Shindou," Suguru congratulated.
K threw the singer a towel with a large smile adorning his face. The singer caught it and wipe his sweaty face. Just as he did he was attacked from the side by a stuffed pink bunny.
"Kumagorou Attack," Ryuichi shouted as he threw Mr. Bear at his fellow singer.
"Wow, Shuichi, you've got some bad luck if he's attacking your so early in the morning," Nuriko grinned, popping up behind Ryuichi with her purple hair curling around her smiling face, the latest hairstyle being pigtails that made her look much younger than she actually was.
"Shuichi's so mean," Ryuichi whined loudly as he attached himself onto the pink-haired singer's back. "You hung up on Tatsi and didn't pink up when we called you back!"
Shuichi laughed, rubbing the back of his head in a nervous gesture, unknown to the others. "Yes, about that," he faked a grin, well aware of the curious stares of the other people in the room. "Well…I had a misunderstanding with Yuki and I called Tatsuha to ask about it. Yuki's the one who hung up on you and wouldn't let me pick up the phone when you balled back," he lied smoothly. He didn't want to explain how he felt like he was intruding on the couple's private time because he knew what the famous Nittle Grasper singer would say to something like that.
They'll never find out the truth Shuichi told himself. They wouldn't care anyway.
Ryuichi jumped off the other singer's back. "Oh, is that all? Tatsuha and me were real worried. Tatsi will be relieved to hear it was sorted out okay."
Shuichi laughed quietly, feeling the guilty of lying already weighing him down. I'm sorry, Yuki.
Dull, violet eyes stared outside at the sunny day and the people bustling around. Some were walking past the NG building and others skipped to the beat of their CD players and walkmans. Little kids pointed up the building in awe and some tourists were seen taking pictures of the famous studio.
Worried about their day and what to make for dinner, no doubt Shuichi mocked, barely hearing K's announcement for a ten minute break. To Shuichi all he heard were a bunch of noises jumbled together. The only thing that met his eyes were the cheery people around him and those walking outside.
The singer envied those people. They looked like they didn't have a care in the world. Shuichi sighed, tired of the way things were going lately and how on-schedule his life had been running lately.
I hate all those people down there thought Shuichi suddenly, surprising even himself. He wanted to take it back. He wanted to smile and laugh like he used to and tell everyone in the room how he'll make every person down there a Bad Luck fan like he used to in the good old days. He wanted to very badly, but, sadly, found that he couldn't. He wanted to stay mad and hate all those people who could smile so easily without is being fake and laugh about things he couldn't anymore.
Hands curled into fists and an unknown rage rose within him. Shuichi felt like he wanted to do something….something, anything, that was drastic enough to make the emptiness he was feeling go away. To scream, to cry, to even break the glass he was leaning on would be it if…
"Shuichi?"
The singer jumped, heart skipping a beat at the sudden call of his name. He turned around and came face to face with the band's guitarist.
"Hey there, Hiro," he faked cheerfulness.
His friend gave him a curious look, but shook it off quickly enough. "You all right there, Shuichi? You look like you were off in one of your sadder fantasies with Mr. Yuki," the guitarist joked.
"Cut it out," Shuichi sighed, pushing past the redhead and into the recording room once more. "I just want to get our next CD finished soon so we can have some time off," he said as way of an excuse for his strange behavior.
The sky was dotted with thousands of stars and the air frigid when Bad Luck's manager finally released the band for the night. Everyone had been pleased with the recording session that they agreed unanimously that they keep going. Before they realized it the clock struck eleven and Suguru let out a tired yawn. Sakano had gaped had stuttered at the time as though it too were trying to spite him, which was quickly interrupted by K's boisterous applause.
"Well done, Bad Luck," the blonde approved loudly. "An excellent day, indeed. Only one more song to go before final adjustments can commence. I'll see everyone bright and early," he pointed the last part to Shuichi even though it was now well known throughout the whole building that the singer had arrived even before the trigger-happy manager for the past few days.
"Excellent singing today, Mr. Shindou," Suguru congratulated with a pleased grin. For once he wasn't thinking of quitting the band at the end of the day.
Shuichi thanked everyone for their compliments all with a fake smile plastered on his face. When they finally left though he slumped down in a cushy armchair and felt himself sink further into the cushions. He didn't feel like going home yet, but he didn't feel like staying in the NG building either. To be honest, he didn't want to do anything right at that moment or go anywhere either.
"Hey, Shuichi," Hiro called from the entryway, effectively snapping his friend out of the daze he was in. He joked, "Daydreaming of Mr. Yuki again?" Shuichi didn't bother to glare. "Are things still okay or do you need a place to stay tonight?"
Shuichi turned to stare at the freckled night sky. "No," he answered softly. "I'm alright. You go home to Ayaka…"
"Yeah, okay," Hiro waved. "See you tomorrow then." He left.
The singer let out another tired sigh. Not even Hiro can help me with this Shuichi told himself. I've bothered him and Ayaka and everyone else too much already. I've made such a big deal over nothing and it's time I took care of my own problems.
He stayed sitting in Bad Luck's meeting room for a while, not noticing just how long. Shuichi wandered around the deserted building and stared out different windows to see, but not see, different views of Tokyo. When he finally got himself towards the front door, the front clock chimed one. The singer still didn't want to go home, but he'd let his feet guide him.
Shuichi ended up in the park a few, short minutes later and slumped onto one of the benches. The depressed singer was reminded of the first time he laid eyes on Yuki and how cold he'd been for the longest time towards him. For reasons unknown to Shuichi, tears burned in his violet eyes and he collapsed into himself and sobbed harshly.
Yuki was panicking and if there was anything the writer hated more than being bothered while he was working, it was panicking over something. There weren't many things that could get the usually composed writer into such a state and the cause was his absent lover. Most occasions he wouldn't have worried about the singer, knowing K could be stubborn about when they leave, but on most occasions Shuichi's behavior wasn't abnormal.
More than once that night he'd been tempted to call the president of NG only to end up reminding himself that there was no way of Tohma knowing Bad Luck's singer's whereabouts. However, just because the synthesizer of Nittle Grasper couldn't help didn't mean Hiro Nakano was the same way. Yuki had already fished through the mess of Shuichi's things for the musician's cell phone number.
A quarter to two the writer picked up the hone and had pushed the first three digits when the front door creaked open almost silently. Dropping the phone carelessly on the floor, Yuki watched as Shuichi closed the door and leaned against it with a depressed sigh.
The singer looked worse to Yuki than even the night before. His customary bright eyes were emotionless pits and around the dull irises red was stained. Shuichi's clothes seemed to be merely hanging off his thin frame like a sheet on a clothesline wire, only held up because of his shoulders and black belt. His hair was also mussed up from raking his hands through it constantly that day, a habit Yuki noticed the singer had picked up when his strange mood first started.
Sensing eyes on him, Shuichi looked up and started for a few seconds before his shoulders slumped back down like a weight. "I'm sorry, Yuki," he said, averting his eyes to the floor. "I didn't mean to wake you."
Yuki ignored the apology and, instead, walked over to his lover and lifted his chin with two fingers, staring intensely at the red-rimmed eyes. "Have you been crying," he demanded more than asked. Yuki wanted to shake the younger by the shoulders and curse him for making him worry, but his personality wouldn't allow him even then.
Shuichi shook his head quickly. "No," he squeaked, then repeated the word in a more dignified manner. "No, I was trying to get inspiration in the park on my way home and I fell asleep," he lied smoothly, unfortunately feeling himself getting better and better at the ignoble deed. "I just rubbed my eyes a bit too much after waking up, I guess."
The golden-eyed lover sighed in slight irritation. Shuichi was a horrible liar, but he wouldn't allow himself to press the singer if Shuichi didn't feel like talking about what was really the problem. I'll wait until tomorrow to talk to him Yuki swore. "Just get some rest; you look dead."
Usually Shuichi would've pouted at the remark, but this more reserved singer just nodded and went down the hall, closing the bathroom door after him.
Yuki went to his bedroom and crawled into his disheveled bed. He strained his ears after hearing the bathroom door open and all he heard was the click of the hallways light turning off (the crack illuminated under the door gave way to darkness) and then the leather squeaking of the couch as Shuichi lay down on it.
"He didn't even eat," Yuki noted in a mumbled tone. "And he didn't try coming in here with me. That talking is definitely happening tomorrow whether he likes it or not." Eyes hurting, head throbbing, and the stress of the night slowly wearing thin, Yuki fell asleep quickly.
Shuichi, however, was wide awake even when all he wanted to do was roll over and fall asleep. He couldn't afford another restless night and risk Hiro catching how tired he was the next day. The singer was tired, exhausted really, but no matter how many times he turned on the expensive couch sleep still eluded him.
The singer's fingers and toes both felt numb and he curled further into himself in an attempt to get warmer. Shuichi's eyes burned from crying and he felt like the emptiness inside his chest was starting to spread along his limbs.
When the sun started poking through the blinds Shuichi rolled out of his makeshift bed with defeat. The furthest he'd gotten to sleep was closing his eyes and staying still for a whole three minutes. Wearily, he wandered into the bathroom. A few minutes later, coming out, he was startled by the unexpected presence of Yuki. The blonde man was blocking the hallway towards the front room, leaning on an arm that rested against the wall.
Shuichi calmed his racing heart, clutching the hem of his top in tightly fisted hands. He stuttered, looking down. "Did I wake you, Yuki?"
Yuki raised an eyebrow in confusion. Had Shuichi truly been okay, the singer would've launched himself at the blonde writer. It almost scared him at how different and out of character his lover at become in so short a time. It was decided: he'd talk to Shuichi now.
"Do you need something, Yuki," Shuichi asked when the writer didn't say anything to his question.
"You're up early," Yuki started, pushing away from the wall to look Shuichi in the eye directly.
No earlier than I have been Shuichi wanted to say. Instead, he replied, "What do you mean?"
"Don't you get up much later than now usually?"
"Well…uh…I've got work in a little while. K will be angry if I'm late."
Yuki glared at his younger lover. "Don't pull that on me, brat. You never cared before."
"I never had a gun held to my head before," the pink-haired singer countered.
The writer would've rolled his eyes if he didn't care about how Shuichi was feeling right then. "If you're late I'll just call Seguchi. Now sit down." He moved down the hall and sat down in the corned of his expensive couch. Surprise spread through him though when Shuichi was still standing in the hallway. Yuki wanted to worry about this new personality of his lover, but his own persona wouldn't allow him to show it the way he wanted to. The old Shuichi would've soaked up the early morning attention and stayed there for as long as the blonde would allow him.
"What's wrong? Get over here," Yuki demanded impatiently.
The singer still stood in the doorway looking at Yuki with confusion pooled in his eyes. "Yuki…you're never like this…"
"Is it so wrong for me to want to talk to you? We've both been so busy lately that I hardly see you anymore."
Shuichi looked down, mouth open to a small 'o'. "Well...it's just that the CD is coming along so well lately and," Shuichi cut off when Yuki stood up and moved closer.
"I told you I'd take care of it. No one will bother you and no guns will be pointed in your face," Yuki repeated sternly. He grabbed Shuichi's soft hand in his rough one and dragged him over to the couch.
The singer was startled by his blonde lover's unusual behavior, even more so that Yuki was being uncharacteristic about the fact of wanting to spend time with him.
Yuki only released the pink-haired male once they reached the couch. However, when Shuichi gave no incentive to sit down he gave a tug to the frighteningly thin wrist. Shuichi plopped down on the sofa with surprise and started when Yuki wrapped and arm around his shoulders.
"This isn't so bad, is it," the writer asked when his lover looked up at him with a questioning look. "Before you would've been crying and asking if I was going to leave you again because I'm treating you this way." The younger man shook his head then glanced down at his lap, his fingers restlessly playing with a loose string on his pants.
The writer relaxed back into the couch and was grateful when he didn't have to urge Shuichi to do the same. He'd noticed how tense the singer had become lately and made a mental note to ask Tohma if he could also tell Shuichi's manager to back off for a while.
Nervously Shuichi leant into Yuki's side, not sure if Yuki would appreciate the action. He inwardly sighed with relief when the arm around his shoulders tightened agreeably before moving to wind around his waist.
"Actually," Yuki began unsurely. He didn't know any right way to start this conversation without telling Shuichi his hyper personality was a little…lot less hyper than the writer was comfortable with. Telling himself to just ask the question so the singer could laugh and reassure him that all was well. He started again, "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you too, Shuichi."
Looking up with surprise, Shuichi wondered what the blonde could have to say. "What is it, Yuki?"
"There hasn't been anything wrong lately, has there?"
The singer shook his head calmly even though his heart was racing unsteadily. How could he know? He wasn't supposed to notice!
"You're sure? You've been unusually quiet lately. Don't think I haven't noticed how late I've been waking up recently. Or how long I haven't had to go grocery shopping."
"Yes," Shuichi drew out the word hesitantly. "I know how late you go to sleep…I didn't think you would mind. As for the food, I've been eating out a lot with Hiro and everyone."
Yuki sighed, noticing how careful Shuichi was in choosing his words. Doesn't he realize it's impossible for him to lie to me? He pushed away from the couch. "Alright then, I guess it's just me. I'll be in my office working. Why don't you get some breakfast? You could stand to eat something and gain a few pounds." He started walking down the hall, but paused before going around the corner. "Tell me when you're going to leave so I can make that call for you."
"Oh," Shuichi replied tiredly. "Oh, right, sure." He watched Yuki go hopefully, wishing he'd come back and help slap some sense into his puzzled brain.
"And, Shuichi?" The pink-haired singer looked up with a shock. "Keep your weekend free. I feel like doing something."
"O-oh, okay," Shuichi agreed with surprise.
Yuki disappeared again and Shuichi watched for a full, painful and long five minutes to see if he'd come back. When the writer made no signs of reappearing, the singer sighed with depressed disappointment.
He doesn't see it either…
Shuichi stayed on the couch for a while after Yuki left, giving the writer the benefit of the doubt that he was eating something. When a lengthy amount of time passed by, he stood and made his way to the office. Knocking three times he whispered only loud enough for his voice to reach the other's ears, "I'm leaving now." For an added effect, or maybe it was to prove to himself that he really wasn't all that different like Yuki thought he added, "I don't know when I'll be home…so you'll wait for me?" He flinched inwardly. Shuichi hadn't wanted to phrase it like a question, but what's done is done.
Inside the office Yuki made a noncommittal sound to show he heard. He shook his head and picked up the phone, mumbling to himself, "Shuichi, when are you going to admit that something's bothering you?" He listened to the familiar ring after dialing the number of Tohma's office and then to the musician's cheerful greeting.
"It's me," Yuki answered deeply, knowing the president of NG would understand.
"Eiri, one of these days that simple saying is going to force me to buy a caller ID," Tohma chuckled jokingly. "Anyway," he continued more seriously, "Mr. K has been coming in every two minutes -." Just as he said that there was the sound of something pounding viciously on the door. Seguchi ignored it, continuing. "Shall I presume Mr. Shindou is on his way?"
"Yeah," Yuki confirmed, unnerved as to how his brother-in-law always could figure out what he going to say. "I held him back to make sure he ate something," and talk to him about his unusual behavior he added silently.
Tohma hummed into the phone with interest, the pounding noise not letting up in the background. "Of course, Eiri, I understand. I'll be sure to tell Mr. K not to do anything drastic to our Mr. Shindou then. And I'll be sure to keep an eye on him," he finished, answering Yuki's unasked question.
Yuki hung up without saying goodbye, as usual. Tohma would know not to take it to heart. Sighing deeply to relieve the tension in his shoulders, he moved to back to his computer to get some work done.
Shuichi sauntered slowly into the NG building. He knew he should've bustled in loudly to keep up the appearance that everything was fine with him, especially when he was coming late, but he was just feeling a bit too drained out that day.
The conversation with Yuki had thrown him for a moment. Shuichi placed a hand over his heart, leaning back in one of the lobby's comfortably over-stuffed sitting chairs. It was beating much more calmly than when Yuki had first asked if he was okay. When the question was formed and Shuichi's mind registered correctly what his ears had heard he had wanted to run away. He knew that would've only confirmed that he was unstable so Shuichi thought quickly.
How would the old Shuichi react? The new Shuichi, he found himself referring to that personal nickname recently, realized how unsettling such a question was. He knew in his mind that the "old" Shuichi and the "new" Shuichi were indeed one in the same. However, in his heart he really couldn't ever see the old one ever being part of the new one.
Shuichi's thoughts were interrupted at the sound of shoes clicking on the polished floor. He opened his eyes tiredly, not sure when he had closed them, and caught sight of Suguru waling down a hall and into the lobby. In his hands was a white box and its content jumbled with each step the keyboardist took. The clicking stopped when the synthesizer saw Shuichi slumped in one of the lobby chairs.
"Good morning, Mr. Shindou," Fujisaki greeted.
The singer offered a noncommittal sound for Suguru's efforts.
"Everyone's been waiting for you," the dark-haired boy explained. "They'll be relieved to know you're here so we can finish the recording of those last two songs." He started walking again, expecting Shuichi to follow.
The singer had wanted to sit there for a while longer to collect himself and attempt to find the ball of energy that had been easy to find once upon a time.
If only it had been Hiro Shuichi told himself as he pushed himself from the plush chair and trudged after Suguru.
In the band's recording room K was pouting and mumbling about his guns being taken away, Hiro was playing random tunes on his guitar, and Sakano was hitting his head on the wall. Suguru noisily put the box he was carrying on a table by the door. Everyone looked up with a start.
At the sight of Shuichi, K stood and began to throttle the singer's neck. "Two songs," he shouted loudly, ignoring everyone else trying to stop him. "Two songs left and you chose now of all times to be late! We could've been done by now! And Seguchi confiscated all my guns so I wouldn't attack you!"
"Then aren't you sort of defeating the whole point," Suguru yelled, pulling at K's hand around Shuichi's neck.
K released him with a huff, throwing himself into his chair and crossing his arms childishly. Everyone knew he was more ticked off about losing his precious weapons than Shuichi being tardy.
Shuichi rubbed at his throat absently. Even though he knew why K had done what he did, he still felt responsible. If he had been there on time, then K wouldn't have lost his guns and nobody would've had to wait for him when they couldn't be done already. He offered a dejected apology, not noticing everyone else's startled looks, and went into the recording room.
The two songs left to be recorded went smoothly and perfectly. K, whose mood went up at the short amount of time they'd spent finishing Bad Luck's CD and able to get it out sooner than expected, declared the rest of the week off and that he'd see everyone promptly at seven on Monday. He directed the second half of the sentence to Shuichi.
Hiro, who rarely missed a thing when it came to his best friend and band mate's moods, caught up with Shuichi in the lobby. He wrapped his arm care-freely over the singer's shoulder and walked outside with him. To anyone walking by it was a friendly gesture, but to Shuichi there was a silent message. IT said he wasn't getting away from the guitarist so easily.
The redhead led them into one of Shuichi's favorite restaurants and told him to order anything he wanted, on him. Both sat in quiet, Hiro looking over at his friend curiously and Shuichi absently staring out the window. When their food arrived (a strawberry shake for Shuichi and hamburger with fries for Hiro) the guitarist was the first to break the ice.
"Did you get into another fight with Mr. Yuki," he questioned, getting straight to the point.
Shuichi shook his head, inattentively twirling the straw in his drink.
"You haven't been kicked out again, have you?"
Again, Shuichi shook his head.
Hiro sighed and took a bit out of his burger. "Then what's wrong," he asked after swallowing.
Shuichi forced out an amused laugh, but it sounded more nervous. "Nothing's wrong, Hiro. Everything's just fine."
Another sigh and the redhead stood up, throwing away his garbage. "Alright, Shuichi, whatever you say. Just for reference though, I don't believe you." Hiro wondered what it was that could make Shuichi so closed off when usually he wore his emotions on his sleeve.
The singer watched him go before laying his cheek on the cool surface of the table.
"Even Hiro doesn't care," he mumbled to himself. He stood and threw away his still full shake. He decided to wander the city, not ready to go home yet.
Yuki was no fool. As soon as Shuichi had left the apartment complex the writer searched the kitchen. No dishes were in the sink and no drinks were missing from the fridge.
He'd noticed for some time that Shuichi hadn't been eating regularly. Yuki wasn't planning on confronting his lover since he didn't want to let on he was worried. However, with the weekend quickly approaching and his recent idea to go out with Shuichi, he'd make sure the singer had something good and healthy to eat.
Shuichi stared regretfully as yet another happy couple passed by him in the park. He was only reminded of all the times he couldn't hold Yuki's hand in public. He was envious towards all the people that had normal relationships and could be with someone without having to worry about it being in all the newspapers the next day.
The desire to see Yuki now was overwhelming him though and knowing the president of NG as well as he did he knew Yuki would know that the CD was near completion.
Walking to the apartment took longer to Shuichi than the previous day. Different thoughts about the morning consumed and confused him, not knowing why Yuki had been acting so unlike the Yuki he was used to.
Had he been put up to it? Or did he really care? Shuichi shook his head quickly, startling a small child who'd been staring intently at his hair color.
When he reached the complex though, his hand on the door knob, his ears pricked up at a loud voice inside. Shuichi easily recognized it as his lover's, the angry voice having been directed at him numerous times.
The voice was too muffled through the door for Shuichi to make out any of the words Yuki was saying or, rather, shouting. Before Shuichi could pull away from the door and go back to the elevator the door flew open and Shuichi fell forward and landed at Yuki's slipper-covered feet.
At the same moment Yuki was shouting into the phone, "No, I don't know where the hell he is!" As soon as he finished saying that he was caught off guard at Shuichi's sudden arrival.
"I'll call you back," he growled into the phone before tossing the device towards the couch. He didn't care when it missed and landed at the floor in front of the sofa instead. "Where have you been," he barked at the singer.
"Been," Shuichi repeated innocently.
Yuki pinched the bridge of his noise, a well-known sign to Shuichi that the writer was highly annoyed. "That redheaded friend of yours must've called ten thousand times since one."
Shuichi chanced a nervous look at the clock, not bothering to get up from the floor. He double-checked it, however, when the numbers five and two zeroes glowed eerily back at him prominently.
"I'm sorry," the singer chocked out around a surprisingly dry throat. "I didn't realize how late it had gotten."
Yuki picked up Shuichi's arm and dragged him to the window. "You didn't notice the sky going dark or how cold it was getting," he accused loudly.
Shuichi picked at an imaginary speck of dirt on his shirt and shook his head slowly. "I hadn't noticed at all."
"Do you know how worried he's been about you," Yuki continued to shout.
Shuichi fought with his tears as they threatened to fall. He didn't bother answering and Yuki stormed from the room.
"Yuki, you weren't worried about me," Shuichi murmured.
The writer watched his pink-haired lover from the hallway. He heard the quietly spoken words and his heart wrenched painfully where it bean in his throat. In truth, he had been worried about Shuichi. After Hiro's third phone call he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything. Honestly, he could say he was at least three times more worried about the singer than his band mate. Every time the phone rang after that third phone call Yuki answered it in hopes of the caller finally being Shuichi or someone who knew where he was.
"I made dinner," he announced, causing Shuichi to look up.
"I'm not hungry," the singer said, pushing away from the window and walking past Yuki towards the bathroom.
Yuki's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping tightly around Shuichi's thin wrist. "The hell you aren't," he growled. "What have you eaten today?"
"I'll have you know that I ate a lot at the studio today," he began strongly.
The blonde wanted to roll his eyes. Shuichi was a terrible liar. Out of lack of better things to say he asked, "Like what?"
"Well, there's that thing that…and before I left there was…that one before the CD…I had - ."
"Nothing," Yuki interrupted at last, ending his lover's babbling. "We're going to sit at the table and eat the ramen I made for you and you won't be finished until you ask to be excused and I agree. Understood?" His tone left no room for argument and the question was most definitely rhetorical.
Nothing better to do, Shuichi nodded solemnly and let himself be led from the hall into the kitchen. He was half shoved into one of the stools at the counter as Yuki walked past him to the microwave.
He warmed the noodles and then placed the steaming soup towards his lover and then sat down next to Shuichi with his own cup of ramen.
Yuki sat watching Shuichi push the soggy noodles around for a minute before Yuki sighed and dropped his fork. The writer rubbed at his eyes irritably. "Shuichi," he sighed, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts without insulting the pink-haired male.
Shuichi looked up when Yuki trailed off on his name. He looks seriously mad he told himself, watching as the writer continued to massage his eyelids. Biting his lip he went through his whole day to figure out push his lover off the edge like this. When nothing came to mind after the fourth time through the list he began to get worried.
"Shuichi," he began again, enunciating his words slowly as he thought of each word to say carefully. "What you're doing to yourself isn't right."
The singer's heart started to race and his mind immediately thought of "New Shuichi". "What do you mean, Yuki," he asked cautiously.
Yuki pushed away the ramen and settled his arms on the counter, knowing the conversation would take a while. "You've been unusually quiet lately," he explained. "You have bags under your eyes all the time, and you don't eat anymore. Shuichi, it's like you're a completely different person and it worries….people."
The words "New Shuichi" burned at the front of the singer's mind. He tried to ignore the way his chest started to sting and the sting behind his eyes. He stood up quickly, tears shining bright in the corners of his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he denied. "You've ignored me from the start so how would you know anything about me? Or could at least lie and tell me that you're concerned about me! Anything to make me feel better rather than making accusations to hurt me!" He turned on his heel and stormed from the apartment just as the phone began to ring.
Yuki stood, tossing his stool to the ground as he attempted to go after the distraught male. The stairs were clear of people though, elevators were empty, and there was nobody in sight that he could question. Out of annoyance he grabbed the phone off the floor and yelled an obscene greeting into the speaker.
"My, Eiri, your moods certainly enjoy changing throughout the day," Tohma commented cheerily. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you actually picking up the phone with such a mood? Usually you would just ignore the ring."
"Knock it off, Tohma, and tell me why you called."
He could just imagine the cheerful smile on the other blonde's face before he replied. "Can't I check in on my brother-in-law once in a while?"
Yuki held his tongue on that comment and, instead, replied in an even tone. The last person he wanted to know that he was worried about Shuichi (besides Shuichi himself) was his meddling brother-in-law. He picked his words carefully and answered after a brief pause. "That brat ran off and I'm waiting for that redheaded friend of his to come to his aid."
"Usually something like this wouldn't get you so irritated, Eiri." There was a light pause then a curious inquiry. "What happened between you two?"
Yuki didn't want to answer. He didn't want Seguchi to know. It wasn't any of his business to know what went on in his and Shuichi's apartment.
His thoughts paused and all he could focus on was his mental admission about the apartment was as much his as it was the pink-haired singer's. He slept there, at there, even started to share the chores; Shuichi's excuse for that was to help give Yuki more time to work and less time to worry about trivial things. The writer hadn't thought anything of it at the time though. However, now that he had a chance to he realized Shuichi hadn't just taken a third or a half of the chores; he'd taken all of them. It didn't just stop at household chores either. Shuichi had gotten quieter, like he had mentioned, and, rather than interrupting Yuki in the middle of something, he'd write a note and stick it on the door with tape.
Why didn't I notice it before, Yuki asked himself, almost dropping the phone in his loose grip.
It was like Shuichi had become a completely different person all for the sake of pleasing his stoic lover. Is his new attitude because of me?
"Eiri," Tohma's voice tore through Yuki's sudden realization.
"Look, Seguchi, I should go find that brat before he freezes to death while pouting."
A small pause and then, "But, Eiri, I -."
Yuki hung up before the president could finish his sentence. The writer grabbed his coat and one of Shuichi's many jackets before hurrying out the door, slamming it behind just as the phone started ringing once more.
Indeed it was cold enough outside for someone to freeze to death if they weren't wearing the proper clothing. In Shuichi Shindou's case he was more set up for a month long vacation in a tropical paradise, though with less paradise.
Tears were cascading down his face in waterfalls and his eyes were beat red. His whole body was numb, but not from the cold itself. He was more cold from his worst attack of depression to date.
Around the park it was entirely deserted. There was nowhere to escape the deathly cold chill and even the leaves in the trees themselves seem to be shaking with cold.
He should've been used to the cold blanket wrapped around his body and dark loneliness that ate at him from the inside. The emptiness had been with him for so long. What was it? Days? Months? Shuichi couldn't remember the exact time when it started or even why it began in the first place. Did it happen for no reason at all or did something occur to trigger the horrible feeling? He should've been used to it, but he wasn't.
A harsh wind ruffled Shuichi's pink hair and sent a frozen trill down his back. White flakes kissed his bare skin and the singer crawled further into himself to keep warm.
His shed tears were unwanted and he couldn't understand why he was being emotional over something so stupid. What if Yuki was genuinely concerned about him? What if he wanted to help?
Stop it, Shuichi the singer scolded. You'll only get hurt if you get hopeful. You should know that by now. Another tear escaped his eyes and dropped onto the back of his hand.
"So this is where you've been hiding." Yuki's deep voice penetrated through Shuichi's musing.
Startled, Shuichi jumped at the voice and his head jerked in Yuki's direction. Before he could open his mouth and speak around the ball stuck in his throat the writer moved forward and wrapped a jacket around his shoulders. The singer looked at the vibrant-colored material and then back at Yuki.
I thought he'd be angry with me Shuichi thought, trying to reason out why the blonde would come looking for him.
Yuki didn't look angry to Shuichi though. In fact, his face didn't remind him of any emotion the singer was used to seeing on his lover's face. In the end, the few minutes after scrutinizing the foreign expression, Shuichi settled for indifferent being Yuki's emotion because it was simple enough and wouldn't get his hopes up.
Wrapping the jacket further around his frozen body, Shuichi slowly uncurled himself. His teeth were beginning to chatter loudly and he flinched when Yuki moved closer to him. It took a few minutes to realize Yuki was trying to help him stay warm and his cheeks pinked with embarrassment.
"Thank you," he murmured frozenly, unconsciously leaning closer to Yuki's warm body.
Yuki stared at his lover's pitiful form. He didn't like Shuichi acting this way. There was nothing in the world more important, though he'd never admit it out loud or in writing; being near his lover like this it used to make him warm inside. However, with Shuichi behaving like he had been it was like his lover was never there.
It went against how he usually acted when Yuki moved closer at Shuichi's frozen tremor. Even more so when he allowed Shuichi to cuddle into his side in public.
Allowing a small grin at seeing a small glimmer of his old Shuichi, he wrapped a hesitant arm around the singer. Not wanting to upset the male and have him running off again, he stated in a soft voice, "Let's go home."
The singer sniffled around his runny nose. Nodding against Yuki's side, he let the strong arm around him lead him away from the snow-covered bench.
Luckily the heater in the apartment had turned on automatically while the two of them were out. Still, Shuichi was shivering enough that Yuki thought his lips would've turned blue if he had stayed outside any longer. He quickly retrieved a blanket from the hallway closet and traded it for the soaked-through jacket Shuichi was wearing. After making sure his lover was settled in on the couch Yuki went to the kitchen, reheated the soggy noodles that were Shuichi's ramen, and made some hot chocolate with baby marshmallows.
Shuichi toyed with his dinner silently, knowing Yuki's golden eyes were driving into him the whole time. Despite the clenching uneasiness in his stomach, Shuichi wasn't hungry and he said as much.
For nerves that the singer would be upset again Yuki accepted the excuse for what it was.
"I'll watch a movie with you," Yuki announced after throwing away the uneaten bowl. He didn't want to leave Shuichi alone just yet and he picked the simplest thing to do to ensure at least a couple of hours with him.
Shuichi jerked his head up. The look on the writer's face told him that Yuki really wanted to be with him, but something inside of Shuichi was screaming. Never before had Yuki said he was going to do anything with him. It always had to be him to initiate everything they did together….except for sex.
Is that what tonight is going to be Shuichi asked himself. He thinks he can make everything better by throwing me on the floor and having his way with me? Tears burned behind Shuichi's violet eyes. Was that all he was good for? Spreading his legs and being Yuki's little whore? How he public must be laughing at him.
"No," he said shakily.
Golden eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You always wanted to before."
"I don't feel like it now." Shuichi pulled his legs up onto the couch and hooked his arms around them.
Nothing came quickly enough to Yuki's mind that would let him stay at Shuichi's side longer. He was forced to bid goodnight to the singer and he clicked off the hallway light as he walked to his bedroom. He didn't hear Shuichi's stifled crying as he was too lost into his own thoughts.
Yuki must be seriously mad at me now Shuichi mentally berated himself. What if he leaves again because of me? Mr. Seguchi will be angry with me too. And Mika and Tatsuha….if he's mad at me than Ryuichi will be upset. And if Mr. Sakuma's angry with me than everyone at the studio won't like me at all. I'll be the most hated person in the world of music because I made Yuki mad enough to leave!
By the end of his mental tirade Shuichi was sobbing loudly and rocking back and forth, teetering on the edge of the couch.
A hand placed on his shoulder startled hi m and he looked up into golden eyes with puffy red ones. "Yuki," he whispered.
"Hey," he said equaled quiet. "What's wrong?"
Shuichi quickly stood up, almost knocking his head on Yuki's chin. "Nothing, nothing," he rushed out, waving his arms around quickly to draw the attention away from his face.
"If that's true then why are you bawling like a baby out here?"
"I wasn't -."
Yuki raised an eyebrow and watched with part concern and part curiosity as Shuichi fumbled around looking for something to say.
"A show," Shuichi countered suddenly. Yuki waited patiently for more. "I was watching a show and it was sad. You know how I get," he finished with a nervous laugh.
"You sobbed your eyes out because of a show on TV that you've barely watched for three minutes?"
The singer froze and knew he'd been caught. Thinking fast he added, "From last week. Yeah, I remembered the show from last week and it was sad. The thing I watched was just some of the rerun."
Yuki didn't believe him by any chance, but he wasn't about to push his lover. He was still too worried about Shuichi running off again and he wasn't about to test his luck at finding him a second time.
Running his hand through Shuichi's soft, pink locks he couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his singer's head. He worried for him even when he wouldn't admit it aloud. He didn't want to lose his Shuichi.
Rather than being content with Yuki's gentle ministrations, Shuichi was tense enough that his muscles were twitching painfully. Yuki was always good to him before his internal volcano erupted.
This means something bad is going to happen soon. I'll probably annoy Yuki again and he'll be mad. He'll throw me out and I'll have to find another excuse to my parents for staying there. Then the redheaded guitarist popped in his head. What if Hiro finds out I've been going home instead of his place like he told me to if I needed a place to stay? He'll think I don't like him anymore and he'll leave me too!
A short kiss to his temple broke Shuichi from his reverie. "You should get some sleep, Shuichi," the writer suggested, splaying his fingers in the pink hair once more. "Tomorrow we'll go do something together."
Shuichi nodded even though he doubted it was going to happen. It worked like a cause and effect scenario. If Yuki's nice than something bad would happen, usually caused by Shuichi himself.
...I can't let that happen. Yuki deserves better, Hiro deserves better….everyone would be a lot better off without me around.
Hot tears burned behind Shuichi's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Yuki would only stay out of pity and obligation if he saw him crying and Shuichi didn't want that. The singer would wait until after his golden-eyed lover left. After that he just didn't care what happened, just as long as Yuki didn't see.
After Yuki reluctantly left Shuichi knelt on the floor and stared at the wall. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, trying to get warmth to circulate throughout his body. Another attack of biting numbness was overpowering him. Emptiness was eating away at him from the inside out. Both were beginning to win him over and Shuichi wanted all of it to end.
The singer wanted to cry out, to call for Yuki, anything to make his panic attacks stop. Each time he felt an attack coming it was like the sword in his heart slowly sinking further in. It started out as a small pink in his chest and he didn't worry about it then. The problem was that it seemed to take only a few days, maybe a week to develop into what Shuichi's been dealing with for month now.
Suddenly, the walls began closing in on Shuichi and his breathing came out in short, heavy pants. His hands tugged mercilessly at his hair, nail scratching his skin that caused various lengths of pink lines to appear on his face, and his whole body ached from his muscles being tightened for so long.
I have to get out of here Shuichi decided. He couldn't stay in a place that suffocated and tormented him without restraint. The singer quickly pushed up off the floor and hurriedly packed his few scattered belongings into a garbage bag and quietly pulled out his large overnight bag. Those things were the only things Yuki allowed Shuichi to keep in the apartment when they first moved into it a couple years before. Back then he had whined and complained to the writer. There were a few instances when Shuichi tried moving the rest of his stuff in, but Yuki always knew and forced them back out. Only now was Shuichi glad for so few things in the apartment.
Passing by the coffee table in front of the couch Shuichi pulled out his one key to the flat, which had only been given to him as a result of interrupting Yuki when he knocked. He placed the key on the table with a quiet clink and then proceeded to carry his small haul out the door. The front door closed and automatically locked with a click behind him. That was another thing Shuichi found he was now grateful for. He left without looking back.
Yuki pulled himself out of his bed lazily. The digital clock on his bedside said it was eight in the morning. He hadn't heard any noise earlier that Shuichi had left, let alone that he had even gotten up. Concerned, he pushed the covers off and strode into the front room. No one was there and he figured Shuichi had managed to leave in silence once more.
"But he doesn't have work today. Where could he have gone so early," Yuki wondered. He made for the phone to see if he was at Hiro's. With Shuichi's current behavior Yuki found himself strangely uncomfortable not knowing where his lover was located.
The writer got through dialing the first four numbers of the guitarist's number when a glimmer in his peripheral vision caught his eye. He found a key, innocently enough, sitting on the mahogany coffee table and gleaming in the sunlight that was flittering through a slim crack in the curtains.
His hand went limp as his mind registered the metal object and the meaning behind it. The phone dropped with a crack back into its cradle. His first thought was Why didn't he take it with him? Yuki's feet, however, led him immediately to the closet. Dread was the first thing that ate at him and soon after the door opened and the bare spot on the floor was seen; fear was next.
The writer grabbed his coat with such roughness the hanger snapped in two. He was out the door a second later with the spare key in his pocket and sleeping pants still on.
Outside the air was still nippy, but Yuki didn't slow down. He treaded though the park, checked every room in the studio, and even checked in other places he knew his singer liked to hang out. Shuichi couldn't be found!
Admitting defeat, the blonde let his feet carry him to Hiro Nakano's apartment. He knocked once, waited a few minutes, and barely pushed the doorbell when Ayaka opened the doorway.
The two of them stared in an awkward silence at each other. It was only when Hiro appeared behind the brunette did they take their eyes off the other.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Yuki," the guitarist questioned curiously.
All eyes were on the blonde and silence was strained around the room. It seemed as though even the busy world outside had quieted for Yuki's response.
With his mouth cotton dry and his throat constricted nearly to the point of suffocation, Yuki answered: "He's gone."