CHAPTER 6 – Transitions
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Eiri did not bother to greet his nuisance of a visitor.
He had opened the front door, acknowledged the man with a nod and turned away from the doorway. Surely the president of a business empire knew how to shut a door behind him and find a seat? Unfortunately, he did not know how to mind his own business. Eiri really ought to be used to it.
"You're a mess, Eiri-san." Tohma commented, usual sweet smile upon his face.
'Eiri-san' ignored him. He was already on his way past to fetch soda cans for himself and his guest. Returning, he threw himself onto his couch and popped the tab on his drink. The colourful substitute for his usual beverage went politely un-commented upon.
"I didn't see you at the album launch party last night," Tohma said conversationally as he settled himself primly onto the living room couch. "You were missed."
Eiri rolled his eyes. "Leave me alone." He said, without any real inflection. It was such an old line.
Tohma let the silence extend before pouncing on a younger topic, "As it's too much to ask you to sit and 'talk' then can I request the bare minimum and ask for you to at least tell me what happened?"
"No." The tone brooked no argument.
Tohma sighed, "If you never deign to tell me, then how am I supposed to help you?"
This was a familiar game, Tohma always trying to help by meddling in his affairs and skulking somewhere in his bid to 'look out' for him. Eiri was to some degree accustomed to it but the irritation of it never diminished. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't need your help?"
"And did you ever stop to consider that there are people who cannot help but care, who cannot help but feel for you?" Tohma felt slightly better at the sight of the cross expression in those pale hazel eyes; Eiri understood. Maintaining his gentle voice, he pressed, "Just as you cannot help but think of him, there are those of us who cannot ever stop thinking about you."
The writer snorted, but said nothing.
"If for nothing else but our sakes, do something to assuage our worries of you; talk to me, let me try and help."
"I don't want you to help me." The novelist growled.
Tohma took in the stressed words of Eiri's speech and the inflection of them before continuing, "You want Shuichi-san to help you."
Golden eyes flashing dangerously, "You have no right to-!" He broke off his rant, and looked away, shoving a hand through his blonde hair in frustration. He sighed as he heaved himself off of the couch, and went to stand by the window, looking out at the sunny streets below. "He would never, not after what I did," he muttered.
Tohma watched the tense lines in the novelist's body and sympathised. "But he is what you want."
Eiri snorted, turning further away from Tohma and more toward the window.
"And he is what you need." Tohma straightened, smoothing out his suit and walked over to stand behind Eiri. "I have an idea that may create an opportunity for us all and I think you could benefit greatly--"
"Listen to yourself!" Eiri snapped, over his shoulder, "All this is coming from you? I thought you hated him."
"I never hated him. I simply believed that he was too much for you to handle at the point in time you met." His blue-green eyes softened further, "I underestimated you… and him."
Eiri smirked humourlessly, "That must have taken something to admit."
Tohma ignored the jibe, "He gave you the strength to face Kitazawa."
Eiri glared briefly over his shoulder, angry eyes warning Tohma not to go too far.
"You have no idea how humbling it was to find you at that gravestone with your face so relaxed," Tohma insisted earnestly. He wrapped his hand gently around Eiri's elbow and turned the other man to face him. "He brought you back… gave you the strength to come home and move on when I could not." (1)
"That must have really pissed you off!" Eiri's eyes were cold and emotionless.
Expecting the lash, Tohma ignored it. He sighed again; things were never easy when dealing with this much-loved man, "All the time," he whispered up at his brother in law.
"What?"
"I asked him if he misses you," Tohma watched Eiri's eyes clear with dawning understanding. "He said 'All the time, asleep or awake'."
Eiri's brows snapped together, he wrenched his elbow free of Tohma's grip and stalked from the room toward the hall. "He should hate me," he muttered half to himself.
"Then why does he think only of you?" Tohma demanded from by the window, not following him.
The novelist paused, half turning back, sad and unfocused golden eyes staring into the distance.
"His songs, you have heard them, haven't you? They are all powerful songs." Tohma's voice was pleading now, willing the other man to understand. "I'm certain you are acutely aware that he still loves you."
Eiri stared at the advance copy CD that Tohma had placed on the coffee table. "But he can never forgive me."
"Eiri-san…"
Turning away, Eiri muttered harshly, "I would never forgive me and he should never forgive me."
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"And are you comfortable accepting that?"
Eiri fired his therapist the most impressive glare of his repertoire.
It didn't work.
"This is part of therapy," She reminded him gently, half scolding. "You need to say it aloud, get control of communication - things need to be spelled out carefully." She shifted in her seat as she spoke. "We have been over this, Uesugi-san, about how there is a big difference between what we mean from what we speak, and an even larger difference from what we speak to what the other person understands."
Eiri scoffed, looking belligerent.
She was familiar with the writer's stubbornness, and persisted, "And there is also a difference from who we are from what people perceive… or what we make people think." Her gaze became pointed. "People can act a role, portray an idea. Perhaps you could draw me away from the truth, tell me what you think I want to hear and a waste of both our time with no result..?"
He hated when she got like this, twisting the proverbial arm. Sighing, he blasted her another stern look for the guilt trip, which he watched her disregard. Damn the impervious woman.
She smiled faintly and back pedalled a little, glad to have him back on track. "You have made such progress, Uesugi-san. But it is eternally in progress, always in improvement." She gestured gently to emphasise her point, "Nothing will be accomplished if you do not accomplish it."
He stood and crossed the room to the window, perching his hip upon the sill, to look out onto the back garden of the building. He never lay down in this office as most patients did. He refused to do anything other than either stand by this window or lounge in the wingback chair for his 'sessions'. Even now, half a year down the line since Shuichi had left him, he was as stubborn as ever. Agatsuma Sara, his psychologist, seemed to be the only person at present who could cope with and understand him.
He appreciated the relationship, it had little responsibilities attached to it; there was no easy way to hurt her.
She responded kindly and with natural warmth to everything he shared, occasionally giving her personal opinion alongside the professional one. She smiled when he made progress, and frowned when he was being moody or difficult, intentional or otherwise. And while the entire relationship was black and white, clearly outlined and going very well, it provided no sense of accomplishment, no satisfaction. She was paid to listen and listen she did.
Eiri wondered if there was ever such a thing as a perfect relationship that didn't have a catch to it somewhere.
His alcohol counselling was going well, Agatsuma-sensei spoke with him about that occasionally. He hated to count the days, though, to report how many days he had been sober. It only served as a painful reminder of the last time he had enjoyed a drink. Thankfully it was not alcohol per se that he had a problem with, that much had been established. Alcohol was more of a manifestation of the addiction to numb himself, such as accepting the women who had offered themselves to him had been.
He preferred to focus on the current stage in his program: Emotional Therapy.
They had delved a little into Eiri's frustration with Shuichi, at the way the singer had 'affected' his writing. This had been a very difficult topic to tackle for the both of them.
He had never been bothered with writing what his mind dreamed up, because it was never what he really felt. He had come to realise that proximity to Shuichi and his soul-baring music could quite possibly be responsible for him unwittingly baring his own hidden heart. Re-reading his work knowing the true figure of how many copies had sold was shaking. The people of the world were suddenly much too invasive -if that was even the correct word. He felt it was almost the emotional equivalent of undressing in public. It was his heart that had been very unconsciously undressed and Eiri wasn't yet ready to discuss that.
He was much more inclined to discuss all the other aspects of his… issues.
Anyway, he felt more comfortable discussing his 'Social Perspective'. The carefully articulated clinical term was rather annoying, but he made no fuss. He wanted something and this was a means to an end.
Regardless, the first month of therapy had been horrid. Hours had been wasted between him and Agatsuma-sensei, sitting silently in the office glaring at each other. It had taken the award-winning and professionally gifted therapist almost all the tricks in her book to open up this clam of a man, but it had paid off. And Eiri was as determined as ever to finish the program, to accomplish everything that he had set out to do.
What we think, we believe; what we believe, we enforce. What we enforce, we become. You must act as your own censor in your choice to become who you want to be.
He had had to repeat those words to himself a few times to realise how true those simple words were. It was what had helped him snap out of his emotional denial: He was always thinking dark thoughts; therefore it was quite possible he was responsible for his dark attitude in life. He recognised and wished to act upon this new notion. He could work with this… to think things through, consider them carefully and only then actually implement his intentions. It would be like writing a book; writing a book about his life. The idea that he could write his own ending, and the fear that notion itself invoked, was still something they were dealing with but Eiri liked the idea well enough.
Eiri pulled himself out of his thoughts and hesitated, gamely offering his doctor a questioning look, a silent confirmation that he was ready to proceed.
"I would like for you to tell me if you think that it is acceptable for you to not be forgiven,"
He hesitated, but the answer was perfectly honest, "Not in the least."
"Thank you, Uesugi-san,"
He found himself puzzled at the thanks. What for?
"That revealing statement took an effort to think, consider and then actually speak," She smiled encouragingly, reading his expression well, "How do you feel having said that?"
"Like shit," he glibly replied.
Agatsuma-sensei smiled patiently.
"Because I did think, consider and then actually initiate the idea of cheating on him, so I feel like shit," He growled.
Pushing aside the urge to address his guilt over something which she clinically deduced as not premeditated, she pursued the less traumatic vein in the conversation, "And his forgiveness?"
"Impossible to attain," He waved a hand dismissively, gesturing a little helplessly.
She paused a moment, calculating his posture and body language. "But you don't accept that, do you?"
Eiri paused, and turned to stare out the window again. He considered his feelings carefully. "No, I don't."
"I think that is a good thing," She offered, voice calm and positive. After a bit of a pause, she prodded further, "How does knowing that you need his forgiveness make you feel – empowering, saddening..?"
Eiri pointedly looked away, silently refusing to elaborate verbally.
Changing tactics, she tried again, "Do you want to do anything about it?"
He considered how much he had changed in the last few months, and how much he had changed in the time before that when he had been living with his hyperactive lover. He didn't want to give up on all that he had shared, all the memories he had accumulated. He didn't like how it affected him professionally, but he wanted to learn to deal with it.
He took a sighing breath before answering, "Yes, I want to do something about it," he admitted.
The doctor adjusted her eye glasses and considered his words before speaking again, "Will you do something about it, though?"
Eiri didn't trust his voice, he nodded instead. Funny, everything looked a little blurry…
"I'm happy for you, Uesugi-san," Agatsuma-sensei whispered.
Eiri turned from the window and gazed at her through vision slightly hazy with tears.
"I offer my congratulations on making that very decisive choice," She politely looked elsewhere, brushing nonexistent lint off of her clothes.
Hurriedly leaving his therapist's office, he pulled out his mobile phone as he stepped out of the building. He was mulling over what he was about to do when the call recipient answered. He uncharacteristically chewed his bottom lip a little.
"What? Yes, I'm still here, Tohma. I… I wanted to ask you about what you meant when you said something about an 'idea'…"
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The meeting was reminiscent of the first time he and K had met beneath the same tree in this same park.
Only on this occasion, the cold wind had driven the families and children into staying indoors. The place was deserted, and the playground facilities looked haunted and lonely. Eiri shook his head, his imagination was running away again, dreaming up a scene to use in one of his books…
"This is almost like old times, Yuki-san," The American greeted in his strangely accented Japanese, as if reading his thoughts.
"But no tickets this time, am I right?" Eiri quipped sardonically, pulling his gaze from the empty scenery.
K fondly fondled his firearm through his coat, eyes gleaming nastily, "Maybe one to hell."
The two glared at each other a moment until Eiri recalled it was he who needed to play nice this time around. He was the one who needed something from this man and not the other way around.
A little uncertain, Eiri lit up a cigarette. "I hear the tour launch kicks off with a Valentine's Day concert." He offered the pack to the taller blonde.
K decided to play nice, accepting a smoke and allowing Eiri to light it for him. It was always nice to know what an enemy was thinking. "Yes, it will." He even acknowledged the statement with a slight inclination of his head, but he offered no conversational help.
Eiri sighed and took the plunge, "How is he?"
Supremely sarcastic, K replied, "Suffering, what do you think? And now you-" He snorted in annoyance, now was not the time to lose his head.
Eiri gentled his voice further, making a concentrated effort, "I saw all the tabloids and Entertainment news. I know that it was bad."
"'Bad' didn't quite cover it," K bit out succinctly. "He is better now and frankly you should leave him alone."
Eiri stood his ground, and the two glared unpleasantly at one another. Quite frankly, he did not mind the idea of the matter being reduced to fisticuffs, but he wanted answers and he wanted access. They would have to get along whether he liked it or not. "I am not backing down." He was not referring to anything in particular with that statement, but it felt satisfying to say it anyway.
Without regard for or interest in Tohma's view of the matter at hand, K decided that the self-centred novelist needed a ground-shaking reality check. "Shame," he sneered, "that you were not part of the team of us trying to keep Shuichi from killing himself. That determination would have served the group of worried family and friends well."
Eiri was floored.
He couldn't believe it.
But the look on K's face confirmed the awful truth he desperately did not want to acknowledge.
K felt rather satisfied as he considered the dawning horror on the writer's face. He mercilessly continued, deciding that if the man could not face the spoken truth of the matter that there was no way in heaven or hell that he could face the reality face to face. Better scare him off now or he would only make matters worse.
"Got a hold of one of my guns when no one was around," he took a leisurely drag on his cigarette, and relished watching Eiri's face lose what little colour it had left. "Good thing Hiro found him before he could figure out the safety catch. It happened back in September."
The cigarette dropped from Eiri's limp fingers as the weight of the topic settled fully. He dashed the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes skittering unfocused. Then his vision cleared, and his gaze hardened.
So the man has some spine in him after all, K mused, observing the writer gather his wits. A humourless smile ghosted across his features as he watched the novelist regain control of himself.
"What day?" Eiri rasped, the anger and sadness twisting in his gut.
"Hmm?"
"Do you recall what day this happened?"
K's browed furrowed as he studied the other man. Why would the day be important? He could see that the writer recognised his unspoken query over the significance of the day, and they came to a silent understanding.
"Twenty fourth," K pronounced. He waited, expectantly.
"Day after my birthday," Eiri answered the unspoken question.
As the two men processed this newest finding on Shuichi's perspective, they smoked in comfortable though hostile silence. Annoyed that he might reveal a weakness, K carefully prod into the tender topic that had bothered him for months.
"So," his voice seemed unnaturally loud after the silence, "Are you going to do anything about that woman?"
"Lawsuit," Eiri tersely replied.
Feigning nonchalance, K muttered, "Should be a wrap up case, don't see what's taking so long."
"I rather forgot to have the woman sign a Non Disclosure Agreement." Eiri snapped, sarcastically.
"I see." K's eyes blazed.
Eiri realised with a sinking feeling that he had fallen into a trap. He ran a hand through his hair in annoyance, feeling rather sheepish at needing to pronounce his own weakness. "You didn't know for sure, did you?"
"Shuichi talks only to Hiroshi about these matters." K continued to glower.
Eiri felt that old familiar flash of jealousy. Shuichi was always running to that guitarist friend of his when he needed assurances about his singing, stage performance, self-esteem… for just about every damn thing. Anything emotional, anything personal and Hiroshi was the person Shuichi called.
Not him.
Never Eiri.
He mussed his hair further then swallowed the frustration that was nearly overtaking him. He paced a little, a few steps about where he stood. Hiroshi would know the full story. Damn it. He would have to call the man and--
"Kumagurou beam!"
Dear God, not him.
"He wanted to call you, na no da!"
Eiri's attention was peaked by Ryuichi's words, watching the child-man snatch the abomination of a plush toy out of the air from where it had bounced off of his face.
"He had a birthday present for you all prepared! It made him sad he couldn't wish you a happy birthday."
Eiri felt his stomach clench, suspicions confirmed.
"We took his mobile phone away so he couldn't call… anyone." K supplied, the replacement of the last word escaping no one. "We felt it was best that we control him during that time, and removed his contact to the outside world."
Ryuichi regarded Eiri solemnly, features smoothing into a solemn parody of his usual childlike self. "You are a bad man for doing something so low and irresponsible." he said, voice low and dangerous.
Eiri really didn't need it rubbed in, but he kept silent and surveyed the empty playground once more. Looking at anything rather than have to see the accusation in the eyes of the two men beside him.
"He isn't just hurt and betrayed, his disappointment is overwhelming," Ryuichi pressed on ruthlessly, "He always felt that you were better than that,"
Eiri silently pondered how Shuichi had once told him that people who call another a fool, are fools themselves. Feeling quite foolish indeed, he surreptitiously studied the barely contained K and the furious singer. Their body language displayed pointed hostility, yet neither made any motion to harm him. With an inward grimace, he realised it must have been at Shuichi's request, and most likely after the incident at NG when Fujisaki had struck him.
It did not, however, restrain either man from harming him with their tongues.
"He thought something of you, believed in you with all his heart and now he feels that his own heart has lied to him." Ryuichi hissed as his blue eyes icy with controlled fury. "How dare you destroy that self belief?"
Eiri shook his head without really thinking, and without satisfactory words of denial or explanation.
The singer's eyes flashed, fists clenching as K carefully wrapped a hand around the enraged man's forearm –just in case. "You have done enough," he accused, voice dripping with venom. "If you were to reunite with him you would only hurt him all over again, wouldn't you?"
K's approval of the harsh words shone in his eyes as he levelled one last chilling blast at the stricken writer, before turning to leave with Ryuichi in tow.
Eiri's hands shook a little as he lit another cigarette, reviewing Ryuichi's parting shots. He could not help but recall a recent session with his therapist when they had discussed relationships as a whole:
"All relationships begin with friendship before they can become anything else, "Agatsuma-sensei had pronounced emphatically, "Even family must become friends, blood just forces them to deal with each other. But friendship, the most basic of all connections, is what keeps the relationship going."
Eiri absorbed that as he leaned back in his chair. He considered how many friends he had, his relationships with them, and what kind of a friendship he had shared with Shuichi.
"Romantically," she continued, "There are usually more complications, emotions that pre-exist regardless of the state of the friendship, such as an attraction." She fixed a pointed look on her patient. "It is an effort to remember that your partner is also a friend. In fact, a friend with whom you share not just your time and company, one whom you have feelings for or are attracted to; but someone with whom you share your heart and body."
"I don't think he was really my friend," Eiri provided, hands splayed with his palms upward in a slightly distressed gesticulation.
Agatsuma-sensei shook her head, "You had a bond, regardless, did you not?"
Eiri frowned, disliking the use of past tenses when discussing this topic. "But that bond, as you call it, was severed rather effectively." He sounded morose to his own ears.
Agatsuma-sensei sidestepped the negativity. "Any bond must be tended to continuously over time and with effort,"
Her voice was gentle, but the blonde felt the words strike. He had never tended to Shuichi much in any way other than calculating. He had kept the boy close enough, but always within the range of his own comfort zone and never to Shuichi's satisfaction. He had not really invested any effort in the relationship. Then why did he feel so sour and offended when Shuichi had refused his advances?
The therapist watched the play of emotions across the writer's face and, noticing the man was not aware of the passing of time, continued in the vein of conversation. "But it is important that you always maintain realistic expectations of the relationship, of course. After all, you can never ask for more than what you are willing to give, is that not correct?"
Eiri digested her words, and his brows furrowed as he considered them.
"What are your expectations, what do you want, Uesugi-san, when you boil it all down?"
"I want him near me," he replied gruffly, looking away. A simple reply was always best.
"Isn't that selfish?" Agatsuma-sensei tilted her head to one side, her voice without accusation. It was merely a question.
"Yes."
She sighed softly, a small smile upon her delicate features as she displayed her approval of his honesty. "Can you think of reasons that are not selfish?"
Eiri snorted, shooting her a superior glare. "All reasons for anything a person wants are for selfish reasons."
She dipped her head in agreement. "Perhaps so, but can you think of anything proximity can allow you to give instead of take?"
He considered that. What could he give? He really did not know. Slowly, tasting the words as he spoke, he hesitantly replied, "I want him near me so that I can… be there for him."
Damn the cliché phrase.
The therapist nodded. "That is good." She watched him expectantly.
The patient inwardly groaned. He plucked a phrase from one of his own books, disgusted with the commerciality of the words. "I want to protect him, make him smile… make him-" he recalled something Shuichi once said to him, "-make him happy."
"Those are good things to want, good 'expectations', Uesugi-san."
He waved his hand dismissively, turning away to look at the window across the room. He really should move the chair sometime.
"More like a dream," he muttered.
"Why is that?"
Dense woman. "We are not good for each other, Shuichi and I." Gods, it hurt to say the words, and the backs of his eyes burned suddenly.
"Will you accept that?"
He looked at her, not really trusting his voice to remain steady at the moment.
"Will you accept the notion that you are not good for each other? The same way you wanted to believe he would never forgive you, I mean." She met his gaze with her own piercing one. "Therefore, that means you must move on from him, that everything everyone has insisted is something you acknowledge as true."
She had looked annoyingly self-satisfied, damn the woman. Eiri had recognised this as one of her traps and he knew he was about to fall into it. He had thought back to that meeting with Shuichi in the halls of NG, the moment Shuichi's eyes had met his and stolen his breath away all over again:
With gentle fingertips touching the bruise on his cheekbone which Fujisaki had gifted him with, eyes soft and concerned. 'Are you alright?' Shuichi had asked, and he considered his answer to that question before repeating it and simultaneously answering his therapist's query.
He looked out at the vacant playground, thinking of that session and the last question Ryuichi had sarcastically asked, as his reply to it all slid off his tongue,
"Never."
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(1) Reference to the last episode of the anime series where, after the closing credits, Tohma comes to New York to Kitazawa's grave and finds Eiri. The novelist had come to leave flowers, pay his respects and to close the door on the old chapter of his life. In this scene, Eiri walks wordlessly and calmly away without truly acknowledging Tohma, who is looking rather panicked. Tohma, realising that Eiri does not need him anymore called after Eiri rather desperately, asking where he was going. A small smile playing on Eiri's lips which Tohma, behind him, could not see and he replied, "I'm going home."