First off: My apologies to all of you. I know I've been gone for months but unfortunately RL complications had kept me from writing. Lots of things happened one which included pain, meds and surgery. But enough about me, I just want to thank you for your patience. I've felt horrible all this time. Sorry T_T
A/N: This chapter was half written quite sometime ago, it somewhat explains why Shu was angry at Hiro, why he left Yuki, and many other things. I'm responsible of any grammar errors, (there's an entire paragraph with intentional errors btw) I think is about time for me to stand on my own two feet. I have much to thank Inu-midoriko for, bearing with me for so long and helping me along the way.
Warnings: None for now
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did Ryuichi would've been with me at the hospital.
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Chapter 11: Guilt
"I met Yuki" those words kept ringing on the singer's ears like the incessant ringing of a bell. He wasn't aware of the single tear that started rolling silently down his cheek, but he was aware that he had been unable to look Tony in the eye and that he couldn't bring himself to release the tight grip on Tony's shirt, "Where?" was all he could manage to say.
Tony noticed that the voice that asked the question didn't had the velvety sound he had grown used to, "Tohma's office," he answered trying to shift his body to get a glimpse of the singer's face.
"Hmm," was Shuichi's response, still gripping the fabric tightly in his small fists.
"Shuichi," the older male said, wiggling himself free from his lover, "does that bother you?"
The singer, still avoiding Tony's scrutinizing eyes, stood sideways with his arms crossed. For a brief moment Shuichi thought of the question, "Does it bother me?" he shook his head, "Why would it bother me?" he said with a faint smile on his face which still looked down at the floor.
"Listen to me Shu," Tony smiled while following the trail left by the tear with his thumb, "sooner or later you'll have to face him also, are you going to fall apart if you do? You have to be strong on your own Shu, you have to. I'll be gone for some time, who will you turn to? Yuki, you loved him after all. Will you still be here when I come back? Will you love me when I come back?"
The singer - who up to this point kept his confused gazed away from the photographer's eyes - looked up, violet orbs met deep brown ones, "I don't know Tony, I don't know what's wrong with me… Here," he placed Tony's hand on his chest, "I just know that Yuki still hurts right here, sometimes I hate him so bad it drives me crazy, and… and sometimes I remember how much I loved him and it breaks my heart all over again." The sincerity of Shuichi's words makes Tony both relieved and sad, "And you Tony," the singer spoke again, "you give me so much and ask for nothing, you respect me, love me without question and make me feel safe. I don't know if I love you or not, but… I don't know how am I going to hold myself together while you're gone."
Tony stood firmly in place, "You have to Shuichi, or have you forgotten your purpose. You came back with one thing in mind and I promised I'd help you; you can't go back on it now. You have to hold it together, because this time I'm the one who doesn't know how.
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Hiro opened the attic door, 'Now where is that box?'
He moved a few boxes and bags until he found the one he had been looking for, it was labeled 'Random Things'. When he lifted the box it opened at the bottom spilling its contents, "Damnit," he yelled when a thick binder fell on his bare foot.
The red head grabbed an empty box, and tossed the items in it; nothing special, some clothes, cologne, pens, a box of hair dye, and that binder. The cause of his sore toe.
He picked the culprit up and inspected it; the thing weighed more than a phone book. It was a thick, black binder with more pages than it could hold, it had a pen tied to one of the rings, and it was tempting the guitarist to open it. The thing was almost calling to him. Hiro tried to ignore his curiosity he wanted to throw the book inside the box - curiosity won.
Hiro sat on the floor with the binder in his lap, the first page said 'Shuichi's Journal' "Why would Shuichi need a journal." The red head felt bad about intruding in his friend's secrets but since he already knew everything there was to know about the vocalist he didn't see the harm in it, then again, he didn't knew of the journal's existence.
He started to read about their time in school, …I was caught again snoozing in the classroom… From time the he had known the singer, Shuichi had been reprimanded for sleeping during class more times he can remember.
…Today they announced that Nittle Grasper was disbanding, why would they do that? Don't they realize… Hiro skipped the written rants, he had heard those same words for months.
…My day has gone from bad to worse. First Maiko wouldn't stop bitchin' about our song for the show, and then my data got wiped, and is still morning… Hiro chuckled, remembering how Shuichi almost jumped out the window with his keyboard.
…I met a complete bastard tonight…the balls, he told me I got no talent…
Hiro browsed through the pages reading about the botched show where they made fools of themselves. The good, the bad and the ugly in his relationship with Yuki Eiri. He had even written about Aizawa's attack.
There were a few random notes, TV interview thingy at 1:30 pm
Today is our first year anniversary… Hiro smiled at the little hearts drawn around the note.
He kept browsing through the pages reading about how much Yuki had changed, how he was more loving, …Yay Yuki's back today… he flipped a few more pages, all of them filled with doodles and happy faces, then he found an interesting note…
I've tried to convince him to start therapy again but he refuses, ever since he came back from his book signing he's been strange…
He skipped a handful of pages…
Ryuichi left yesterday to New York, he didn't even say goodbye…who am I going to talk to now… Hiro wondered why he needed to talk to Ryuichi, wasn't he the best friend?
Then one page grabbed his attention, Appointment with Dr. Miyamoto Tuesday at 10:30, right under that one it said, …I think I'm losing my mind…
A couple of pages later, Appointment with Dr. Higuchi tomorrow at 2 pm, Next to it said, …he hates me… no one cares…
Hiro didn't know what to make of everything he was reading, "Should I ask Shu about it?" That was probably a bad idea. Even though he felt wrong about reading Shuichi's journal he kept reading, to Hiro nothing was making sense.
The only thing he does now is drink, from the time he gets out of bed that's all he does… why is he so angry?
The guitarist kept reading, skipping some lines every now and then.
…damnit why is it always the face… The read head eyes went wide, …nobody notices anyway, they never do…
He felt his eye sting with tears, "Oh Shu…"
…the doctor says I've lost weight, who wouldn't? I hardly eat, I cannot sleep, the only thing I do is sing, sing, sing. As long as I do that every one is happy Tohma, Suguru, K, even Hiro… they only care about that… then they question why I'm always in a bad mood…
…How could he do this to me? Wasn't he satisfied…he didn't have to do this to me, after all I've done, after all I've endured…
The guitarist gasped. He browsed the journal, skipping a few more weeks of Shuichi's horrible thoughts
…I woke up in someone else's bed, I have no idea who he is… he was sound asleep so I snuck out of the apartment… shit this is all fucked up, it's the third straight week…
Dumbfounded by that last entry he kept reading.
… I dunno how, but I think I lost a few days, again… this time I woke up at the train station down Shinjuku… I think I shrunk cuz my pants are bigger… note to self: don't take Vicodin with beer, not a good combo…
Appointment today at 3:15 pm: Dr. Miyamoto won't give me any more medication; she says they're affecting my behavior. Now I'm a volatile person…shit I only threw the stapler across the room… fuck her, I don't need her… there are plenty of doctors more than willing to prescribe…
He flipped a few more pages…
My hands hurt and there are red marks around them, and Yuki has similar marks around his neck… oh God I tried to kill him, how could I? I got angry when I saw him and that woman in bed, the same bed where he used to make love to me back when… when we were happy… I don't remember… and Yuki wouldn't tell me… why wouldn't he tell me?
Today I saw my new doctor; again, she says I have not gained a pound, and that I should stop drinking. I say I just need stronger drugs so I don't have to drink, of course she refuses and only gives me the lowest dose of Paxil. Such bullshit, at least I know another doctor who will give me something…for a price…
Hiro spots a page with some almost unreadable writing… I think I'm a whore, he has turned me into a whre, a drunk whor…I know I said I wouldn't mix Vicodin with beeer but I did on Thursday and now is Sunday morng… how did that happn?… I cut meself, I think, don know how though… Yuki's cut too, I think I did that…
The guitarist frantically flipped through the pages, as if he was trying to run away from the horrific details of his best friend's relationship with the novelist.
Almost at the end of the book there was the last entry… I have to leave him, he's killing me. I'm dying a slow painful death…my love died a long time ago, it started to die the day he gave me a black eye, and it continued dying. Every time he touched me, every time he kissed me roughly enough to make me bleed, every time his hands manipulated my body to fulfill his needs…with every poisonous word, his disgusting smell, those cold hands, that repulsive tongue… the only thing remaining is this emptiness in my chest were once a heart was beating. No matter how many pills I take, how much I drink, or in how many unknown beds I wake up… that pain won't go away… my doctor say that my pain is associated with the depression and the multiple injuries I have… I say is heartbreak, is the pain you feel when you fall out of love…
Hiro slammed the journal close; he felt a pang on his chest… more than that, he felt like garbage. He felt as if he had been inflicting that pain to Shuichi, as if it was his fault his friend was hurt and left emotionally scarred.
But, he thought, it was his fault. He wasn't there, he brushed Shu's cries as some sort of whining, and now he felt even worse.
"Fucking bastard!" he said under his breath, clenching his teeth to the point of pain. How could he have delivered Yuki's letter himself, not only that, he had given the man the idea in the first place.
"He used me," In his eyes a storm was growing, the gray colored orbs flickered resembling lightning, "Oh, he's got some explaining to do."
The red haired man stood up placing the binder inside the box. He considered the idea of whom should he see first, should he go back to Shuichi's place and talk to him? Or should he go and kick Yuki's ass and then ask him about it?
Well it was Tony's last night in Japan, so Shuichi most likely wanted to spend time with him. So it was option two then.
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The day had come and gone, the conversation had long been ended and Shuichi sat on the floor next to the entryway. He observed as Tony walked around and made calls, some sounded bitter others were full of business hypocrisy. Occasionally the photographer would blow a kiss to the singer and he would in turn blow him one. Takeshi stood in front of his master, "You have a call Sir," he said handing Shuichi his cell phone.
"Talk to me," Shuichi said over the device.
"Shu, its Hiro."
"Hn, 'sup?" The vocalist had no space in his thoughts to wonder why Hiro was calling so soon, he had been there a few hours ago.
"I found your box, I'm bringing it tomorrow morning." Hiro paused for a moment before saying, "We need to talk." and the red head hung up.
Shuichi stared at the small phone in disbelief, "He hung up on me!"
"Shu," those simple three letters snapped the singer back to the present problem, "Love, it's time."
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Thanks for reading. See you in next chapter.