Loss of Hope
-
-
-
"I gotta go, boys!" K waved as he headed for the door. "I have some people to traumatize before we go! Meet you all later, you know where." He absentmindedly caressed his holstered gun as he ducked out the door, blond ponytail bobbing in his wake.
"Me and Kuma-chan, too," Ryuichi said, almost gaily. "We're going to find Noriko-chan." Ryu skipped to the dressing room door where he paused before saying, "Oh, and Kumagurou thinks you should know one more thing." He turned back a little and, with that eerie ability, transformed into an intensely focused adult. "Yuki-san was frightened. He was concerned… and very frightened… for our Shu-chan." He blinked slowly, and his eyes went round as he smiled, wide and sweet. "Just thought you should know no-da… Bye-bye!"
With a wave, he was gone.
Nakano Hiroshi and Fujisaki Suguru stared at each other in stunned silence. What the hell had just happened?
"Since when does K meet with Yuki Eiri in a deserted park?" Hiro broke the silence at last. "And at Yuki-san's request?"
"More to the point, since when does Ryuichi?" Suguru answered, sounding equally stunned.
"And Ryu… you heard what he said."
"That does not sound like the Yuki-san we know."
According to K, The exchange with Yuki-san had been relatively simple. Nothing much had actually been accomplished, as K had not had the patience to stick around and find out what it was that Yuki-san had wanted to ask. They had had their words and, as far as K was concerned, anything beyond that was none of his concern.
"I bet it's because he felt guilty," Hiro declared, "But I never thought…K didn't realize the significance of that day, but I should have… it was the day after Yuki-san's birthday…" he groaned, putting his face in his hands. "I should have remembered, Shuichi has always talked about the occasion anytime it was near since that quiz show (1)!"
Fujisaki's features rearranged themselves into a scowl. "It's not like we are supposed to remember such inane details, Nakano-san," He turned to direct his glare elsewhere. "Even if we do want to look out for him," With a sigh, he stood.
Hiro continued to sit hunched over, face cradled in his hands, wondering what in hell the author was up to this time. He was frightened, truth be told, for his best friend. A hand touched his shoulder lightly, squeezed hesitantly. He glanced up and met Fujisaki's uncertain gaze. He knew his band mate was not accustomed to such gestures despite how close they had become, and he offered up a reassuring smile.
"We just need to look out for him, whatever day it is, all the time." Fujisaki turned to head back to his own dressing room to prepare for the concert after-party. As he went, he called back over his shoulder, "If we tried to remember everything, we would only be stressed out and become worse than he is."
Hiro groaned again before lifting his head. He pushed thoughts of Yuki-san from his mind and remembered the event he needed to attend. He felt sticky and tired. He wanted nothing more than to go home and crash out, but there were sponsors to please and a best friend to support. He preferred that Shuichi go to and fro by himself as little as possible, never mind the boy had a bodyguard come chauffeur bustling him about.
As he made his way into his en suite bathroom, he grabbed his clothes already assembled on a suit hanger to bring in with him. There, he stripped and attended to himself, thinking about a certain pink-haired moppet dear to his heart.
That young man was certainly up to God knows what these days. He and the two Seguchis had become nearly inseparable. Hiro knew that Seguchi-san himself had requested Shuichi's help with a few new bands the NG label was supporting. Shuichi had mentioned something about helping to decide the amount of support to offer sponsored bands… and in the decision making of whether or not to sign them onto the label permanently as part of the 'family'. Musically, Shuichi had always had a good ear, and this knack for knowing what would be good was obviously being put to good use.
Hiro, however, was aware that no matter what anyone tried to do or did for Shuichi, it would not distract him from or alleviate the pain of his break up. He could see how Shuichi was still cracked. There were lines of tension about his best friend's lips that he had never seen before and which bothered him greatly. If that wasn't bad enough, Shuichi had made it a habit to be out of the house early every morning and return late at night. Shuichi would meet them at NG for practice during the day and had so far kept to all the band's tour commitments, but otherwise he disappeared for the rest of the day.
He gave his best friend what the boy asked for when Shuichi refused to talk about what he was doing with his time, pleading for space and for time. But he remained worried, despite Shuichi's attempts to reassure him. He felt better when Shuichi called as he went about his day, or sent text messages, but it was obvious the singer had very busy days.
Hiro left the boy to it; Shu seemed to really need the space. Although, it was just too obvious that the kid was working himself into exhaustion so his mind would be occupied and drawn away from introvert musings, enough to actually find sleep at night…
He had seen it, had watched Shuichi do this, and had even experienced it himself all before.
No matter what the little fool did, it could not be missed, not by his eyes, that Shuichi still looked pretty much how he had after that split with Yuki-san: melancholy, stiff and weary. The only thing that had changed was that he was hiding it better, and people were misled into thinking that everything was well. Even K, normally one very astute individual, was fooled.
Hiro knew better.
And, thankfully, so did Fujisaki.
He finished his shower, dried down and dressed, paying special attention to his appearance. Tonight was a formal party for top sponsors, and it was imperative that he make a good impression. He supposed this was one of those times that his upper middle class breeding would be of good use.
Primed for this social encore, Hiro met with Fujisaki in the hallway, who told him Shuichi had just left to go find K and would meet them out front. Avoiding the milling crowd lucky to have access to the restricted area of the rear lobby, they proceeded to the dimly lit glass-walled mezzanine floor. From this pre-arranged meeting point they had a secluded view of the driveway, away from fans and media crews.
There, the two stewed in their thoughts as they waited.
"That man has something very wrong with him," muttered Fujisaki suddenly, brows furrowed and glaring at the floor.
Hiro immediately knew who the younger boy was talking about. "Actually, he does."
Fujisaki looked up, quizzical expression in place.
"I don't know what it is." Fujisaki glared as Hiro spoke. "But I do know that he has something from his youth that he has been dealing with." He shrugged. "Shuichi told me. But I don't think that, whatever it is, it could possibly justify what he has done."
Fujisaki scoffed, nodding in agreement, reaching up with a hand to ruffle his green-tinted black hair.
A naughty grin swept across Hiro's face, having noticed the emerald earring glinting in his band mate's left ear. He leaned in toward the boy beside him, whispering, "You know, Yuki-san has a piercing in his left ear, too…"
The younger man blasted the guitarist a stare of pure ice before turning away in a huff, folding his arms and thrusting his chin into the air. A small smile played on the Hiro's lips. Better they banter now and bring about a better mood than Shuichi see nothing but worry for him when they arrived at the party.
"Hey! Where's Shuichi?!" An authoritative, female voice demanded. They turned, recognising Noriko's tones.
Hiro pointed out the glass front as Noriko and Ryuichi approached across the deserted mezzanine. "We're waiting for him, Sakano, and K to meet us out front with the van," He smiled, "Do you need him for anything?"
"Just wondering, is all, since he is not with you right now," Noriko tossed her violet pigtails over her bare shoulders. She looked stunning in a deep magenta off-shoulder velvet gown. "I wanted to congratulate him on his outstanding performance." She waved at the two before her dismissively, "You two weren't too bad either."
Fujisaki set his jaw, turning his back to sulk a little more.
Hiro smirked behind his band mate's back. "Do you have your own transportation to the after concert ball?" he asked politely, directing his question to Ryuichi.
Ryuichi squealed, "Nittle Grasper has a big black limousine, no-da!" He snuggled his cheek into the pink plush toy in his arms, eyes glazing over in a day-dream, "But maybe we should have a bright red one to match us, coz Tohma is dressed for love too, no-da no-da!"
'Dressed for love…' That was one way of putting it, Hiro thought, hiding a grin. Ryuichi was dressed in a pale pink button-down shirt tucked into black leather trousers, black and red leather cowboy boots and a silver and crimson cowboy hat dangling down his back completed his Valentine's Day look.
"The black will do fine!" Noriko rolled her eyes then grabbed her singer's arm and hauled him away towards the elevator. "We're meeting Tohma down in the basement where the limo is parked. See you at the party!"
-
-
-
Noriko hauled her brilliant idiot of a band mate into the elevator and punched the button for the first floor garage level. The doors closed, cutting them off from the two other musicians, and as one they leaned onto the railing of the carrier. They stood together in silence until they stepped off and sedately made their way toward the limousine parked to one side.
Noriko studied the tense lines in her band mate's posture. She had watched him observe Bad Luck's lead singer all throughout the concert, and had noticed how he had performed more provocatively than usual with the younger man. Ryuichi's out of character attention to Shuichi had been bothering her for some time now, and it had been he who had suggested looking for Shuichi earlier before the encounter with the two at the Mezzanine level.
Bluntly, she asked softly, "Are you in love with Shuichi?" She turned to regard a solemn Ryuichi as they walked, his pink bunny tucked under an arm, hand in his pocket. His blue eyes glittered enigmatically as he stared across the sparsely populated parking level.
"I care for him," he muttered softly and, eyes trained on the object of interest across the way, pulled out his mobile phone and hit a speed dial button.
Noriko sighed before offering a small smile to the silent chauffeur who opened the limo door for her, "He is a good kid," she agreed as she settled in, "One very interesting individual, we both know that-"
"He shines so brightly, Noriko, so brilliantly that I am blinded," He interrupted her with a low voice, putting the phone to his ear, eyes still focused on his target as he stood before the car entryway. "Anything less and I would not be bothered, but that light is special… it must never go out." He got into the car, finally tearing his eyes away from whatever it was he'd been staring at. He turned to Noriko, eyes hard, "Not if I have anything to say about it."
His attention was drawn away by the person answering his call, and he left Noriko to her thoughts.
-
-
-
Eiri fiddled with his keys and fob in his pocket, smoking, as he leaned on his handsome black Mercedes.
He stared out across the parking lot, not seeing the people making their way to their vehicles. His eyes were still filled with the vision of seeing Shuichi on stage, the gestures of that lithe body as he danced, and the sadness in those lavender eyes. He gritted his teeth, chomping down on the stick in his mouth. He was, he knew, the picture of nonchalance, leaning with his ankles crossed before him, a hand in his pocket; but inside, he was anything but.
It had been difficult, to say the least, to see the one he loved so near yet so beyond his reach. He had thought himself ready to face the sight of Shuichi, but it had proved to be a lot more difficult than he had anticipated.
"Eiri-kun?"
He groaned inwardly, eyes refocusing on the sight before him. "Hello, Tohma."
"We were worried you had left," Tohma approached carefully, aware of the tension in the man before him. "You were spotted and I was notified of your whereabouts."
The novelist looked away. Tohma came to stand beside the silent author, politely looking elsewhere while the other man composed himself.
"I don't think I can do this," Eiri muttered, tossing his cigarette down onto the ground and grinding it out with his heel.
"Why not?"
"You know why," He lit another cigarette, glancing down at the picture on the lighter as he stood. "Meeting him now wouldn't solve anything… this is impossible." He turned to Tohma, eyes flat. "Didn't you see him? He had everyone in the palm of his hand."
Tohma sighed, "You most of all."
Eiri frowned.
Tohma continued, intuitively, "If you are worried about the adoring crowds, about the people who flock to him, don't." He reached out and lightly laid his hand on Eiri's arm, "Shuichi's no fool. He sees right through them. Surely, you don't think that he is unaware that they are all merely attracted to his fame?"
Some distance away, not within their immediate peripheral vision but at the borders of ear shot, the elevator doors opened.
-
"And you're just ever the optimist!" A familiar voice snarled. "One is all it takes, one who sees beyond the fame to-- could be enough to--"
The voice broke off in a frustrated-sounding snort.
In the elevator, K glanced down at Shuichi who had instantly stopped frozen at the sound of that easily recognizable voice.
The gunman only just caught the expression of pain that flitted past after the shock. He met the now calmly shuttered purple gaze and nodded, stepped free of the elevator alone leaving the singer where he was, and let the doors closed between them.
K waited until he heard the elevator depart.
He frowned. He had thought that things were better with Shuichi since the incident in the NG front hall. However, seeing that expression jolted him and the sight of such acute pain was much too reminiscent of the initial post-break up state the singer had been in. Torn, he shifted, thinking.
Considering what he'd just witnessed he recalled Hiro's story about Shuichi's Christmas vacation (3) and, weighing them carefully against his own opinions, he came to a decision. He pulled out his mobile phone and quickly typed out a text message, before marching over toward the two conversing blondes.
"Well, well," K snarled on a low voice as he approached, aware of departing crowds in the vicinity. "Look at what the Mercedes dragged in and here I thought they only sold cars to humans."
Tohma's eyes flashed blue fire at him. It was a sure sign he was annoyed when his eye colour leaned toward blue rather than green, though his voice remained smooth and polite, regardless, "I will thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when addressing my brother in law, Mr K."
Eiri, on the other hand, completely ignored him.
"I came to fetch the car and will be meeting the group up front," He pointedly met Tohma's gaze as he spoke. "The four of us will proceed to the hotel directly from here." There was but the slightest stress on the word 'four'. To make the message perfectly clear he added, "So the rest is in your hands now."
The fiery blue eyes calmed into an aquamarine, contemplative colour. The change itself was signal enough that the 'message' had been received.
Blasting the novelist a contemptuous glare K headed for the Bad Luck van, certain the situation was still manageable.
Tohma faced Eiri with a serene expression, "Let me take you to a private room at the party, Eiri-san," The novelist eyed him warily, but the NG president gestured placatingly as he continued, "You can be hidden but enjoy a good meal. And he will be nearby in case you change your mind. You can watch without being seen, observe how he is and… how things are."
There was a long pause in which Tohma worried that things would not progress as he had hoped this evening. Eventually, just as K blasted by, Eiri wordlessly unlocked the car with his remote key fob as he walked around to the driver's side.
Tohma smiled, genuinely pleased. He was careful to tone his expression down before getting into the car.
-
-
-
Hiro glanced idly over at the sound of the elevator chime, and tensed when he recognized the slight, pink-topped figure within.
Shuichi, with a little shiver, stepped out and slowly headed toward them. A flash of stunned purple eyes warned Hiro that all was not well, but the look disappeared in the next instant, as though it had never been there. He squelched the powerful urge to ask what was bothering Shuichi, reminding himself he had been asked for space.
Focus.
Resist the urge.
He sighed. This didn't mean he couldn't do something nice.
"Hey, Shu!" He held an arm open to his best friend. "I thought you were with K."
"I was, but…" Shuichi paused infinitesimally then snuggled into Hiro's side. "He went on ahead without me."
Hiro recognised the half truth for what it was. After all, his best friend couldn't lie worth jack to him. But he tolerated the masquerade Shuichi seemed to need to play, the half-truth habits and the dismissive laughs when attributing 'mistakes' to alleged stupidity.
Fujisaki eyed Shuichi strangely a moment, as though no more fooled than Hiro had been, then turned away again. Hiro felt Shuichi shift in his arms, glanced down and caught the boy's worried look following Fujisaki's retreat.
Shuichi, being the loving brat he was, and likely feeling guilty for his little vague truth, reached out and gently tugged on Fujisaki's sleeve. When the other boy turned back around, Shu smiled appreciatively and announced, "You were great out on stage this evening, Fujisaki-kun." That clear, sincere expression shifted up to Hiro. "You both were really amazing, so in-sync… and that perfectly timed pause before the last stanza of Breaking Away was so well done!"
Fujisaki turned a delightful shade of pink at their lead singer's warm words. Shuichi did pay the nicest compliments, on those occasions when he was inclined to voice his appreciation. No matter how simply said, they were always spoken with such sincerity that the impact was greater than flowery words.
Smiling, Fujisaki reached over and rumpled the boy's pink hair, all trace of his earlier temper evaporating. "You weren't too bad yourself…" His smile widened, and he flicked a finger at the outrageous hat on the singer's head. "…Shuichi."
Hiro grinned at Fujisaki, pleased with Fujisaki's use of a more familiar address, before turning back to his best friend still comfortably snuggled into his side. "You were pretty impressive, too, Shu," He pressed an affectionate kiss to Shuichi's forehead. "You lit up that stage."
Cheeks turning nearly as pink as his hair, Shuichi buried his face into Hiro's side, his giggle rising from the depths of Hiro's suit, clearly pleased with the compliments. Hiro exchanged a delighted grin with Fujisaki, knowing the synth-master found the familiarly child-like display as reassuring as Hiro did. It affirmed that things were overall well for their singer.
In spite of whatever had caused him to space out in the elevator.
Impulsively, Hiro reached out and drew the Fujisaki close to himself as well. Blushing furiously, but not resisting, Fujisaki companionably slung an arm behind Hiro's back while Shuichi caught the other.
"Group hug!" squealed the brat, and the other two groaned in mock despair from within the tightening circumference of his arms.
"You have got to be kidding me."
Without breaking apart and with huge smiles on their faces, the trio glanced over toward the source of the wry voice.
"Mika!" yelled Shuichi, wriggling free of the tangle of arms.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, he flung himself across the marble floor toward the stunning woman in a red silk gown. Accustomed to similar antics from one of her husband's closest friends, Mika smartly sidestepped the advance. She looked over her shoulder at the skidding singer whose momentum had propelled him a few metres past her. He finally came to a stop facing the elevator from which she had just alighted. Standing straight and still, he tilted his chin back over his shoulder at a high angle, lips in a mou of an endearing little pout.
"Mika…" He whined cutely, eyes shimmering with adorable wetness. She crossed her arms elegantly, and attempted a scornful glare.
"Point that disgusting cuteness elsewhere, Chibi-boy. I'm immune." But the sweetness that exuded from this boy was utterly irresistible…Her brother was such an idiot. With a sigh, Mika admitted defeat and held out a hand which the pink moppet eagerly seized with a delighted squeal. "And to think you're one of my favourite escorts…" She smiled gently down at him, noting how his smile was just not quite up to what it once had been.
"Not tonight, Mika," he teased, grinning up at her, his free hand slipping into a pocket of his suit, his entire body dropping into an easy pose. "Seguchi-san is here!"
"Actually," she said, rumpling his hair and upsetting his hat, "Tohma had to go on ahead." When Shuichi pulled away a moment to pout and adjust the hat, she paused to take in their attire. Like her, they'd all dressed in tones of Valentine's Day colours.
Shuichi's stylish black coat-tailed suit was made delightfully outrageous by the ruffled 20th century style shirt in pale pink that accentuated his hair colour. His amethyst dragonfly brooch, a Christmas present from Tohma, twinkled from his cravat. The confection of a top-hat, at a jaunty angle, was the perfect finish.
Hiro and Fujisaki sported black suits as well, though of a more modern cut. Hiro wore a deep red button down shirt without a tie, the colour matching his dark unbound hair, and the small red rose pinned to a lapel was the perfect shade to make that mahogany-colour glow. Fujisaki had on a button down shirt as well, but in white and with a rich red tie splashed with white hearts.
"Handsome," she said approvingly with a nod, and watched their cheeks take on another Valentine's Day shade.
Rare were the compliments from Seguchi Mika, they knew, but were sincere when given. Just as sincere as their collective blush, which epitomized the true miracle of the trio; no matter how big Bad Luck became, they each seemed to maintain an utterly captivating modesty. It was, in her now rather extensive experience, a very unusual personality trait. For all three to share it should have been impossible. She glanced down at her young friend wondering, and not for the first time, if he was responsible for setting the standard. That maybe, as they had in so much else, Hiro and Fujisaki had simply followed his lead..?
"So, speaking of escorts," she said with a touch of imperiousness, lifting a brow at Shuichi. "I'm actually in need of one. Do you suppose you're up to the job?"
Shuichi bowed with an exaggerated flourish, grinning impishly up at her through his shaggy pink bangs. "Anytime you ask, Your Majesty!" He flashed his band mates a belated apology. "That is, if you guys don't mind…?"
"As if I need to answer to two little boys…" Mika muttered though the two nodded assent. She swept the singer toward the elevator which had just opened to deposit a handkerchief-twisting Sakano at their feet.
"Seguchi-san!" Sputtered the high-strung producer, wide eyed, "Where are you taking Shindou-san?"
Mika ignored him. You'd think she was kidnapping his singer, what with the expression of panic beginning to shape his face.
"I am escorting Mika-san to the party, Sakano-san," her diminutive escort assured the distraught man. Mika tugged Shuichi past him and into the carrier with every intention of leaving them all behind.
"But---but---" The nervous man blubbered, pointing down to the covered driveway visible through the wall of glass, where the Bad Luck van was just pulling up, "We're ready to leave too!" He continued to fidget and shift his weight, as though not certain what to do next.
Mika calmly pressed the hold button with her free hand. "So hurry and get in!" she snapped at the nervous man who nearly ripped his handkerchief in half at the tone of her voice.
Shuichi smiled for the flashing cameras and nodded thanks to the gushing people as they bustled through the lobby, thankful for Mika's elegant presence at his side. No one dared to jostle Seguchi Mika.
Mr K said nothing, waving him along, when Shuichi walked past the Bad Luck Limo toward Mika's waiting Ferrari Modena (2). Slipping into the passenger side, buckling himself in, he smiled out the window at the chasing paparazzi as they sped away. He sat back, eyes closed, listening to the reverberating hum of the powerful engine…and found another melody piecing itself together in his mind.
"How have you been, Shuichi?"
He opened his eyes. They were at the driveway exit, awaiting an opening in the traffic, and she flashed him a friendly glance. He put on that flat mask of a smile he'd learned from Tohma, and replied politely, if half jokingly, "Surviving, Mika-chan!"
Mika smiled a little, acknowledging the nick name, but the brightness of the smile was dimmed by the implications behind his answer. "Good to hear that."
She shifted gears, heading out into the city traffic. "Tohma tells me your album sales figures are outrageous," She up-shifted sharply, blasting past a little suburban sub-compact. "He mentioned how impressed he was with the song selection you provided for the album… Congratulations."
"Thank you, Mika-chan!"
She smiled a little more at his enthusiasm. "What about the… rest of the compositions?" Mika gestured vaguely with a wave of her hand. "Tohma said you had enough for three albums, he was rather impressed. The choosing must have been a nightmare."
"Not really." He laughed, then explained, "Hiro, Fujisaki-kun and I write and compose songs all the time, not just when we want to make an album. The songs are mostly raw material until we sit down sometime and decide to put a CD together." He smiled excitedly. "Sakano-san and maybe even Seguchi-san pick out a line-up from a preliminary collection, and then we re-arrange some of the songs to create a 'sound' for an album. But there are always songs that get tossed out… the 'rejects'."
He frowned a little, considering what he had just said. "Some were never even considered for this album, actually, the ones that are too personal…" His voice failed. He hoped she wouldn't notice, but knowing Miki, very little escaped her, that might involve her brother. He inhaled and determinedly finished: "but the rest can be saved for a later album if not performed one-off as we go through the tour..?" He wiggled excitedly in his seat, his smile returning as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe we can perform one new song at each location? Gotta mention that one to K-san!"
Mika's smile shone in the street lights lancing through the windows. "You're really excited about this tour, aren't you, Shu-chan?"
"You bet! I can't wait to get on the road!" Mika's smile encouraged him, and he found himself chattering on about the production and the music as she drove. Eventually, he wound down and a comfortable silence descended.
Almost hesitantly, as though conscious of the time limit as they approached their destination, she asked gently, "Is it wise to keep writing about him?"
Shuichi's smile slid off his face, but he retained his friendly air. He had simply let go of the pretence. "Maybe not, but my therapist thinks it's good to spend my emotions," He stared out at the passing people and lights. "Let them come out rather than bottle them up, you know?"
"I would never have considered you one to bottle!" She teased, with a sideways glance and a one-fingered poke at his side, making him giggle.
"Hey!" He bubbled back, past the giggles, "people can change!"
She sobered a little at that, as she pulled up in the hotel driveway. "You have changed, actually…" They disembarked from the car, doors held open by the waiting valets. Mika came around to his side and slipped her hand into his arm. She told him, "I…sometimes I miss the punk who used to annoy me so much."
The same punk who had stolen her brothers' heart… He shook his head, refusing to give in to thoughts of a certain novelist. He needed to focus. He had work to do and that direction of thought would not bode well for his peace of mind.
He flashed Mika a small, determined smile. "I've still got the 'punk' in me!" he teased. "You watch it or I'll sic myself on you! Can't have you getting complacent, now can I?"
She rumpled his hair affectionately amidst the welcome of flashing camera lights.
-
-
-
"I think it's enough that you got me to this function at all," Eiri growled menacingly, "Can't we drop this topic?"
"No." Tohma stated flatly, smiling sweetly by contrast. "Kindly pull yourself together, so we can head out and look for him." At the mention of going out to 'look for him', Eiri stiffened. Tohma had to look away from the naked emotion in the novelist's golden eyes.
The two sat in a secluded meeting-dining room to one side of the hotel grand ballroom. These smaller meeting rooms lined a wall of the grand hall where, at this moment, hundreds of NG employees and special guests celebrated the launch of Bad Luck's tour. In here, the chatter, music and general din was at least marginally muffled. It was here that they planned to speak to Shuichi about Tohma's idea and see how the boy would take it. Shuichi would not have to know that the 'idea' was already in full effect, would not have to know that this was Tohma's way of giving them the chance to work things out in their relationship.
Eiri wasn't as positive about the situation now, however.
The writer sighed, attempting to force his body to relax and took a tense breathe off his cigarette, silently grateful for the smoking room. He considered how earlier, Shuichi had had millions of people worshipping him out on that stage. How out there, in that throng of people, Shuichi might be having a good time… without him. That brat would be smiling and excited, cleverly holding discussions with a diverse range of people from techs to executives.
Without him.
Maybe meeting someone who could replace him.
Tohma smoothed a wrinkle on his glove, and then tentatively asked, "What do you want tonight, Eiri-san?" He gazed kindly upon the younger man, this one who was dear to him.
Eiri studied the stick in his hand. "More than I can ask for… maybe more than I can ask of myself." His jaw tightened; he was well aware of what he was saying, what opportunity he would be passing by.
Tohma's brow drew together ever so slightly, his eyes flicking a glance at the closed door.
Gods, Tohma, he thought, what are you up to this time…
-
-
-
"It's a smoking room, if you don't mind," The usherette mentioned, smiling as she gestured to the room they approached.
"Thank you, that is fine." Shuichi assured politely as he and Mika followed through the crowds of the Twelve Kisses party, which was nothing short of an extravaganza. As they trekked across the ballroom to the private rooms that branched off from one side of the hall, Shuichi glanced a little sadly up at the lovely woman beside him. She caught the expression, holding his gaze, and tilted a brow in a silent query.
"I can smell the tobacco." He said simply, pasting on another brilliant smile as he waved to a passing group of NG producers.
"It reminds you of him?"
"Always," he murmured, maintaining his 'happy' expression.
"K smokes," She quirked her brow a bit further, playfully, "And so does Hiro…"
Shuichi laughed.
-
From within the confined of the room, Eiri heard a distinctive musical laugh.
His mind flooded with awareness, with the knowledge that Shuichi was nearby. Trying to calm his rising alarm, he turned his sharp gaze on Tohma who slid a reassuring hand over his in support. He dimly registered the calm expression on the older man's face, the situation dawning on him in a rush. His breath quickened.
"You can do this, Eiri-san."
He glared disbelievingly at the other man as he realised what Tohma had planned. Scowling, he made to rise but Tohma's firm grasp kept him from standing fully upright. He silently, ferociously, glared at his former friend.
"Try."
Suddenly, and without further warning, the door swung open. Eiri's eyes snapped up, watching Shuichi walk in with Mika on his arm smiling up at her. His senses instantly reacted, ears attuned to the sound of Shuichi's voice, skin tingling with the awareness of their proximity. His mind focused on this one person, and his body responded to the call of Shuichi's nearness. His eyes took in the outrageous ensemble, appreciating the style, and he felt the smallest of smiles tug at the corner of his lips. The boy looked quite handsome…
As the door shut behind them and Mika looked up, Shuichi turned to take in the rest of the room. For the second time that evening, startled amethyst eyes met Eiri's.
They stared.
The pregnant silence thickened with tension, no one quite knowing what to do next.
In a daze, Shuichi allowed Mika to gently guide him forward toward the table. She pulled out a chair for him and her hands kindly pushed him into the seat. From the corner of his eye, he saw her frown, probably from feeling him tremble. Her gaze flew to her husband's, who himself was just tearing his eyes away from Eiri. The husband and wife glanced but briefly at each other before Tohma gave Eiri's hand one last reassuring squeeze and released it to stand.
Mika lightly rubbed Shuichi's shoulders and bent over as she whispered into his ear, "For all the those songs that no one will ever hear, for the music in your heart that is too painful to let loose," her grip tightened a moment, "Listen… then let him hear." She took her husband's arm and departed with him
When the room was left to them, Eiri attempted to bring his senses under control.
The first thing he did was to carefully slip on an expression of cool calm, as he always wore. Then he struggled to push the scent of Shuichi's walnut bark cologne away, tried not to look at the graceful hand lying upon the table. He tore his eyes away from the possessed carriage, ignored the way the soft tresses of hair begging to be stroked and the soft lips momentarily moistened by the soft touch of tongue.
Eiri focused inward, noticed how he was still standing slightly tipped over, hand on the tabletop where Tohma had grasped it down earlier. He stood fully then but, realising that he might intimidate the younger man, quickly sat back down. He fiddled with the burnt-down cigarette in his other hand before finally stubbing it out.
He darted a quick look at Shuichi… who silently stared right back, gaze slowly shuttering, withdrawing.
Eiri was disconcerted.
It had always been he who had sported the aloof air, not Shuichi. Things were not going well, and the longer the silence remained, the harder it would be to break it. Who knew what the singer was thinking by now? Shuichi passed a hand over his face, wiping at it in a strained gesture. The hand shook a little as it descended back down to his lap beneath the tabletop.
Reassured by the sight, Eiri offered a small smile before hesitantly offering, "You look great."
Shuichi paused a moment, before his head tilted but slightly to one side. He softly replied, "Thank you."
No compliments were returned, Eiri noticed, watching the singer carefully. He cautiously listened to and watched Shuichi, focusing on sensing the other man's state. He found the breathing even and controlled, limbs stiff. Shuichi barely stirred and when he did, his movements were almost sluggish. And the boy did not fidget. It was such a calmly still and guarded posture that Eiri realised it was consciously enforced.
He tried again, "I suppose I look like hell by comparison to you."
Shuichi continued to meet Eiri's gaze. In a voice as soft and controlled as he had used when they had last spoken at NG, he politely murmured, "Perhaps."
It irritated Eiri that Shuichi seemed uncommunicative. He wondered if the boy even wanted to try… and was left with his therapist's favourite word: Why. Why indeed, was the question; why would Shuichi want to communicate with him? Why would Shuichi have anything to say? Why should he expect anything from the person he had taken so much from?
He has taken a lot from me, too, He argued to himself.
He sighed, "I need a cigarette…" He ran a hand through his already tousled locks, the other reached for the pack and lighter on the table.
Shuichi graciously inclined his head toward the ash tray Eiri himself had just used, commenting, "This is a smoking room."
Seeing the coolness in those lavender eyes, Eiri was momentarily startled out of his irritation. He put the pack in his pocket but palmed the lighter. "You don't like the smell, anyway," he conceded.
"Don't you need the nicotine?"
Well, that had a rather sarcastic touch to it. He sighed again, "It's more of a fixation than anything else." Paused briefly, looking at the ashtray before speaking again, "And you don't need the second hand smoke." Out of the corner of his eye, he watched those beautiful amethyst eyes widen a little at his words.
"That's true…"
Eiri fiddled with his lighter, tapping the table with it looking ill at ease. He looked about the room, hands generally fidgeting. His mind grabbed at the memories of his therapy session, at the things he had learned. He tried to remember what it was that he wanted to say, exactly, with the words he had carefully rehearsed so as not to anger the man he cared for. It was all just beyond his reach. He couldn't find the precise words he was looking for, and there was a jumble of random things in his mind.
The silence was driving him mad.
He suddenly pinned Shuichi with an intense gaze, leaning forward a little in his seat, "What do you need, Shuichi?"
The vocalist's eyes widened again. The hand on the table slowly curled into a loose fist as he slid his arm on the table back closer to his body, the other hand moving across his body to the other thigh. His posture had become defensive. Eiri watched the singer's guard rise, a little alarmed.
"Never mind that question," He muttered, slowly sitting back in his seat. He was annoyed he had asked such a vague question, aware of how flustered he had become.
"I wouldn't know how to answer that right now, anyway." Shuichi remained tense as he stared down at his own hand on the table top. Studiously, he uncurled it and placed his palm down flat once more.
"Well, it certainly was a bit sudden." Eiri watched the movement, the purposeful act of it, and frowned to himself. He schooled his features back to calmness and watched Shuichi's face, waiting for those eyes to meet his own. When they did, he softly admitted, "I didn't rehearse this."
Gaze calmly returning Eiri's, Shuichi nodded in understanding.
A burst of laughter echoed from outside the room, from the party going on full swing in the ballroom just beyond the wall. It seemed to Eiri that he was only now hearing the music. Realising that the younger man might leave soon, he gestured beseechingly as he spoke, "Will you stay?"
Shuichi looked askance, shifting a little in his seat, looking very ready to leave.
Eiri drew a deep breath when the other's gaze flicked away. He hesitated but a moment before adding, "Please."
Those purple eyes snapped back, the gaze curious and more than a little surprised. Shuichi nodded slowly, re-settling himself in his seat. He turned fully toward the table, clasping his hands together before him. He said nothing, chin minutely tilted with his interest.
Faintly amused, Eiri studied the small sparkle in that beautiful gaze, the innocent curiosity. The coolly collected persona remained, but that small crack in the façade loosened the tightness in his chest. He joked, "We could sit in silence, I suppose."
Shuichi looked away focusing straight ahead of himself, turning to bring both hands to the table and present his profile to the other man. "I have stayed," he stated.
Eiri mentally kicked himself. It was obvious that he was expected to carry the situation and conversation. His earlier musings of what possible things the boy could say came back to mind. There was nothing for Shuichi to say, really, this was all Eiri's play. 'I have stayed' the boy had said, which translated to: I've stayed as you asked, but that's all I concede.
"That's true." He raised a hand, gesturing with a placating manner, "And that's enough." He cleared his throat and added softly, "Thank you."
Shuichi's eyes darted back to Eiri.
Taking a deep breath, the novelist carefully chose his words, "If you would please listen, I would like to tell you what I have to say." He was aware it sounded silly, but he was thinking about saying exactly what he meant clearly so as not to be misunderstood. If there was one thing he had learned from his therapist, it was to get his words across clearly. He noted the flash of irritation that skittered over Shuichi's face, but he refused to be deterred as he continued, "I know I sound selfish…"
"You are."
Eiri recognised the solid tone behind the words, and registered the use of the word 'are' and not 'do'.
"Selfish, that is." Shuichi had looked away again, as though embarrassed to have said such a thing. Eiri watched him carefully, noticing the faint tint on the vocalist's cheeks. He also noticed it was not from embarrassment, but from pique. The boy meant what he said.
"I am, actually." Eiri agreed.
Irritation deepening, Shuichi's hands tightened together, his shoulders tensing.
Before the situation could spin out of control, Eiri pushed on, "But I…" he paused, rather embarrassed, "I want to tell you, maybe show you, that I care."
Surprised yet again, Shuichi turned to stare. As the full understanding of Eiri's words dawned on him, his cheeks flushed with angry colour. He remained silent, looking highly insulted.
Still carefully observing the boy, Eiri felt foolish for pushing his wishes yet again. He maintained his possessed expression, but his voice betrayed him. "This isn't going how I planned," he admitted weakly.
"You mean it's me who isn't going as you planned," Shuichi all but snapped, eyes narrowing.
A small smile ghosted across Eiri's mouth, "Well, you never did…"
Shuichi's eyes widened and his jaw slackened a little, surprise clear across his expression.
"And I hope that now neither will I," Eiri took a restorative breath, the small smile still on his face, "I want to reiterate that I'm sorry."
Shuichi huffed, the air rushing out his nostrils sounding suspiciously like a silenced snort.
Ignoring the negativity, Eiri continued, "And that I would like to… earn your trust back."
Quietly outraged, Shuichi's eyes flashed. "For the ultimate betrayal, aren't you asking for too much?"
"Then let me rephrase that, I would like to have the opportunity to earn your trust back."
Balefully, Shuichi's brows drew together. His posture lost more of the studious calm when his hands tightened together yet again.
Eiri was encouraged that he was getting a reaction, never mind it was not as positive as he would have preferred. At least the singer wasn't putting his lungs to good use by shouting. Not yet anyway. He went on, "I would like to be a part of your life, if you will let me. Perhaps friendship would be… an acceptable start."
He let his calm demeanour slide and allowed his plea to show on his face. He reached out with a hand, requesting with the gesture and not just with his words. He wanted to display that he meant precisely what he said. "Will you let me try?"
While he honestly doubted that he would make significant progress on his first try, he wanted to keep trying. He had been forced to admit to himself that Shuichi was worth this effort. The details from both sides could come later, what mattered was that they establish the desire to attempt reconciliation.
-
Shuichi stared across the table at the love his life.
The words rang in his head: 'I am, actually', 'I want to show you I care', 'I want to reiterate that I am sorry'. His heart clenched on the most touching ones, 'I want to earn your trust back', 'I would like to be a part of your life, if you would let me', 'Will you let me try?'.
It shook him intensely.
He looked up at the man who was making his heart thud painfully in his chest and studied those exotic yellow cat eyes, feeling the rhythm skip a beat.
Those eyes spoke to him, told him of sincerity, of regret and pain. He could see how they called to him, pleaded, and almost begged for his acceptance. At the same time, there was a shadow – a guard. The understanding washed down over him suddenly, his breath catching. Eiri meant every word spoken, wanted him to accept the gesture and be let back into his heart. But Eiri was also defeated, fully expecting a rejection.
Shuichi's heart constricted painfully in his chest and he unconsciously reached to grasp at his chest.
Eiri was making this overture, was reaching out honestly and without reservation. Each tender phrase was heartfelt, but there was no expectation of success. Despite that, in spite of the knowledge he would only be refused, he had tried anyway. Knowing him, Shuichi was certain that this was a very out of character thing for the novelist to do, and it made it all the more special.
Shuichi closed a hand forcefully around the silk of his shirt, the tightness about his heart reaching such an agonising pressure that he bent over a little. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made him realise that Eiri had just pushed himself up from his seat, looking alarmed. He realised that he must have worried the older man, clutching at his chest the way he had and he quickly straightened despite the pain. He held up a hand as Eiri rounded the table toward him.
"I'm fine, really," he insisted, his voice hoarse. Shuichi understood he probably wasn't very convincing, which would explain why Eiri wasn't stopping, continuing the advance.
Wary and frightened of the impending invasion of his personal space, Shuichi planted both hands on the table top and hastily got to his feet. It was a mad retreat, his chair toppling over behind him. His kicked the chair away and stepped back, shying away from Eiri's approach. His eyes wide, wetness in them threatening to spill, Shuichi put up both hands, an attempt to keep the advancing man at bay.
Eiri stopped short, hands poised in the act of reaching for their target. His brows snapped together, a frown creasing his smooth face. In the next instant his expression calmed, features sliding back into that familiar cool detachedness. Shuichi could see, though. He noticed the hurt and offence taken from the rejection.
Aching, wishing not to be misunderstood, he changed his posture. He reached out with a hand and lightly grazed Eiri's shoulder, conveying his apology with the touch. He could not speak, the tightness having risen to his throat, and he shook his head. He gestured a little helplessly as he fought to relax. He sighed, trying to force the tension from his body. Instead of the release he was aiming for however, his shoulders heaved, shaking. The hot tears finally spilled and tracked down his cheeks.
For Eiri, this was obviously the last straw.
The novelist reached for him again, hands moving past the warding hands, slowly coming closer to grasp his upper arms. Gently, the hands closed on him and applied pressure. Shuichi felt himself being pulled by those hands and guided toward the tall man before him. He resisted. Vision blurred by tears, he stood his ground.
Through the haze, he vaguely registered that Eiri's chest was still growing and becoming larger in his sight. But it was no longer he who was moving, but Eiri. Slowly, unthreateningly, the man approached and enclosed him in a most tender embrace. He instinctively relaxed as the welcoming scent of familiar Gin & Tonic cologne enveloped him. A large hand slid up his back, over his neck, and guided his head to rest on a high shoulder.
Shuichi stood in the circle of Eiri's arms, his hands on the man's hard chest, melting into the embrace. Shuddering, he leaned into the warmth and tried to draw in a calming breath, but a sob rose and ripped violently from him instead. Clutching at the shirtfront beneath his hands, his tears poured down his face. He did not make further sounds, did not hiccup or heave with his tears. He shook, and the embrace tightened. He felt… safe, as though he had come home. And Eiri was his home. He knew that.
Was his home.
He knew that too.
Just as he knew that Eiri had come to him with an open heart, Shuichi knew that he was now the deceptive one. He had been the deceiver long before he had been deceived. He had been the one keeping a grave truth from his lover long before his lover had betrayed him. So who was really at fault here?
Shuichi gasped as a sudden idea struck him. What if it had been his fault? He could always sense when Eiri wasn't completely truthful with him, it was one of the reasons why the novelist never bothered to lie. Well, that and the man didn't care to try and lie in the first place, but who cared? All he could think about was whether or not Eiri could sense such things from him, too. Could that be the reason why they'd been at odds for months before…that had happened?
Shuichi felt sick, the ideas rushing in to choke him.
If that were not bad enough, he also knew one more pivotal thing: Not only had he been lying, he was still lying right now.
Eiri was being honest while Shuichi stood at the opposite side of the spectrum, in the negative. Eiri regretted what he had done and had, perhaps, never intended to commit the act he had in the first place. While he, Shuichi was definitely planning to keep up his own deception. Was he not planning a betrayal?
After all, he had no intention of telling Eiri about his condition and even less about his coming operation or its relevant probabilities. He had wanted to keep this man from the pain of worry and fear. He had wanted to make certain that the man he loved would not need to be pained by the knowledge that there was a real risk he would not make it through the operation.
Where was all his 'protect Eiri' now?
And there he stood in the man's arms, of all the audacity.
Self disgust poured into him. Reeling, he pushed his hands against that warm body he longed never to be parted from and forced himself to pull away. The tears were still coursing down his cheeks, but now they were of anger. It was anger at himself, at his lack of control and his inability to accomplish what he had set out to do.
He took the final step away, pulling completely apart and breaking the last point of contact. Dashing a hand across his face, he brushed his tears away. Eiri attempted to draw him close again, but he took another step away, shaking his head. He watched Eiri's jaw clench.
Shuichi drew a steadying breath. He would need his composure for what he was about to do, and he was already so close… so close to breaking down. He knew what needed to be done, this necessary act that he would have preferred to avoid. He shut his eyes for a moment, needing that small internal focus to steady his mind.
Opening them, he looked straight into those beautiful golden eyes and stated clearly, "No."
Eiri frowned, his confusion clear. He stepped forward, a hand outstretched, "I understand you might need some time to-"
Vehemently, guiltily, Shuichi spoke louder, "No!"
Eyes narrowing with frustration, Eiri tried again, "I understand this is difficult and I really hadn't planned this-"
Frightened that his will would not hold out long enough, Shuichi desperately cried, "I don't care if even Saint Valentine himself planned this, the answer is still no!"
He finally managed to clear his eyes of the annoying wetness, only to witness the crumbling of Eiri's mask. Observing the pain and shock on that beautiful face stunned him. He had never thought he would ever see such expressions on that calm face, on this man who had always prided himself on his ability to remain detached. It hurt him, in turn, to know that he was doing that to the man. It was he who was responsible for shattering that carefully constructed wall, of hurting the man he loved…
Without realising it, he had raised his hand toward Eiri, reaching out. Stricken, he murmured, "I'm sorry…"
Eiri snarled, lifting a hand as though to strike Shu's away. But then their eyes met and the anger crumbled. He had wanted to be indignant, wanted to swat the proffered hand away, but he caught the expression on Shuichi's face. It floored him, that regret, sadness, and… guilt. Suddenly, the situation was off-kilter and no longer made sense. He shook his head, muttering, "What..?"
Shuichi's eyes widened, realising he had slipped. All that focus and concentration and at the last second it all had deserted him. How useless! How ridiculously was this, to fail at that moment when it counted the most? Losing his composure, unable to stand the situation any longer, Shuichi snatched at the last remaining solution he could think of…
On a choked sob, Shuichi turned and ran for the door.
"Shu…? Wait!"
Shuichi ran out into the hall, panicked and shaking. He dashed past a conversing Mika and Tohma on his way to the front hall, hoping that he might be able to lose himself amongst the people crowding the street. In the ballroom, he ignored the calls for him, the concerned people who recognised him and reached out to help. He brushed them all aside, pushing through the crowd, aware that he was making a scene. He didn't care. But he also could not run much further.
"Taxi!" He demanded breathlessly of the first valet he came upon at the hotel front driveway.
"Shuichi!"
He turned at the sound of Tohma's voice. The president was looking startlingly dishevelled, as though he had pushed through the crowd just as Shuichi had done. He wondered if he looked just as rumpled, belatedly realising that he had lost his own hat and that he was attracting stares. It was too much, losing both Eiri and his composure almost in one night. His publicly crafted image of a self-possessed and capable figure was fast fading. It felt too much like he had just lost so much of what he had worked so hard for these last few months.
He broke.
Not seeing anything or anyone past the man who had become his greatest ally and one of his closest friends, he threw himself forward. He clung to the arms that opened for him, losing his balance and sinking to his knees. Tohma followed him down, holding him close as he cried.
Tohma pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and called his chauffeur, glancing back over his shoulder. Looking quite startled, Mika and Eiri stood off to one side behind them, shocked at the intensity of Shuichi's break down. The boy emitted the most pitiful of muted wails and heart-wrenching sobs.
Mika could recall how Shuichi looked when she had first seen him break, those dead purple eyes without their sparkle. She shivered, seeing a familiar scene unfold before her. Beside her Eiri winced, recognising the difference between Shuichi's dramatics and these agonized cries. To their shock, Tohma knelt upon a knee and gathered the boy into a protective fold, hands drawing soothing circles upon the singer's slim back. He whispered comforting words trying to calm Shuichi down, his actions almost tender.
"Tohma, please," Shuichi begged in a tortured voice, astonishing Mika and Eiri further, if that were possible. "Please make it stop…please help me…" He leaned in to Tohma's embrace, lips barely moving as he whispered into the man's ear.
The two watched as Tohma held Shuichi nearer, unable to discern the whispers. The matter must have been of an incredible importance, however, for they could see the changes to his demeanour, expression changing and hardening into a familiar and forbidding expression; one that they recognised as an indication that he had just made an important decision. Mika stepped forward, attempting to approach her husband who turned a darkly flashing gaze on her, stopping her in her tracks.
"We will discuss this later, Mika-san," Tohma said firmly, pulling Shuichi to his feet. Grasping the weeping young man to his body, Tohma levelled his gaze on Eiri, "Perhaps this is all for the best, Eiri-kun."
Mika was floored. This was not what she and Tohma had discussed at all.
With a purposeful step, Tohma carefully brought Shuichi with him toward the limousine just pulling into the driveway. He continued to allow the young singer's face to remain buried in the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around the other. He cautiously ensconced the traumatised Shuichi in the back seat before turning to address the concerned novelist.
With a calm detachment that Eiri particularly disliked, he firmly stated before getting into the vehicle, "I'm sorry, Eiri-kun, but perhaps arranging for this meeting was a great mistake on my part. I will not insist upon a confrontation again."
Eiri and Mika watched in shock as the limousine sped away.
-
-
-
(1) In the anime series Episode 4, Bad Luck participates in a quiz show as their first appearance on TV. In the 'Dash Depot' segment, Shuichi has to run on a treadmill to win the right to answer the turnaround question and win the game. The host asks for the name of a known romance novelist, winner of various awards and is known for his tragic writing style… Needless to say, Shuichi goes nuts, runs like mad on the treadmill as he recites all the things that he knows about his lover. It culminates in the game show bell-ring signifying he has won the right to answer the question, which he does with flared nostrils and tense-excited expression: "YUKI EIRI!" ,winning the quiz show. One of the details he recited was Eiri's birthday
(2) Ferrari Modena: An existing model; closest in appearance to the red animal Mika was driving in the anime when she kidnapped Shuichi from a rehearsal at Zepp Tokyo. Google at will
(3) Reference to opening scene in Chapter 5
-
Review or comment, please!