Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Maki Murakami does.
Prompt: Shuichi reflects on how everyone is fooled. (Ignores Eiri's breakdown).
Rated: M for strongly implied rape. Please be warned.
Sacrifice
Lying here on this bed, so many months later, and I still barely manage to keep myself from jumping away when Yuki's arms wrap around me.
He never says anything – no one does. They believed me when I said Tachi Aizawa simply had me roughed up to get his point across. And why wouldn't they? All I had to do was say I was protecting Yuki (which is the truth), and they didn't question it.
Okay, that's not entirely true. They all said something at one point or another – even Fujisaki and Mr. Seguchi. My wariness of strange, large men and constant agitated state was suspicious to them, and their own nerves over the attack were high, too. To the group from NG, I simply waved it off as nerves, claiming it was perfectly natural for me to be a little freaked out and wanting to protect myself. To Hiro, who had known me longest, I let a little more of the truth slip out. I confided that I had been hurt by someone I thought I could trust, which had never happened to me before. I admitted that the world looked a little different to me now. That now, not every person I passed had the potential to be a new friend. That I was no longer instantly trusting.
He had looked a little sad when I told him this, but had nodded and mumbled something along the lines of, "You had to grow up eventually, Shuichi."
I never told him how much that stung.
Yuki had questioned me with his eyes when I woke up on his bed the next day. A deep, calculating look that knew too much. He hadn't voiced his question, but I had voiced my negative answer in a voice so cheerful I cringe at the memory. My body had hurt so bad, and my head had been spinning enough that I knew moving wasn't a good idea, but I had calmly asked for the film I saw clutched in his hand. I had chased him down for that reason. Not because I was happy he was fighting for my honor, or because I didn't want him to murder Tachi. But because I didn't want him to see those pictures, to see what they had done to me. A grunt, and he had tossed the small pack toward me silently. I tossed it into the sewer that night.
After negating every fear just once, I was never asked about it again, and life went on. And I had to follow it.
I'll never forget that night, or what they did. Being forced to my knees on the cold cement as they beat me, and then on my hands as well as their hands wandered and tore at my body; as they violated and ruined me. My screams still echo in my own ears and make my throat burn in memory; still bring tears to my eyes. Sometimes, more often than not, I can see Tachi kneeling in front of me, whispering soothing assurances mixed with threats as he hurts me, caressing my face and taking pictures. My nightmares have never ceased, and it was on those nights that I was thankful Yuki's writing kept him from bed until the early hours of the morning. Because by the time he finally did trudge to the bedroom, I had exhausted myself with tears and the memories of large daunting bodies burning my skin. The nightmares are felled only to such exhaustion.
It hurts occasionally – more than occasionally – that my friends and lover believed me so easily, even though it's what I wanted. I find myself so restless sometimes – so desperate – that I just want to grab them and shake them and tell them I was raped. I want them to hold me, comfort me, kill Aizawa and his thugs for what they did to me. I want the sexual jokes of all kinds to stop being said, and I want K and Mr. Sakano to be a little more understanding when I'm not one hundred percent chipper when singing songs of naïve love and rainbows. I want Yuki to understand that my flinches aren't because I'm sore, but because I'm scared, because he's not always gentle and the positions he likes reminds me too much of that night.
But I can't tell them, not even now. Before, I had kept quiet to keep them safe – both Yuki and the band. But now, I know that telling them will only hurt them, and make them feel guilty. They're so happy, everything is going well for us all. Bad Luck's sweeping Japan in waves, and Yuki's new book has been at the top of the best-seller for the past two weeks. Our success has Hiro so happy he's patching things up with his mom, and Fujisaki and Seguchi can talk without any biting remarks on talent. And Yuki … Yuki's smiling at me a little more. Smiling a little more in general. He's been smoking less, and his coughing has lessened. He's … happy.
It hurts all of the time, when I'm left alone to face Tachi's permanent presence in my head, because everyone is so sure I'm fine. But I'll handle it. In the studio, on stage, or here in bed, shaking slightly enough to blame chill as Yuki's arm tightens unconsciously around me.
I'll handle it.
Not the prompt I planned on writing on, but here it is nonetheless. Bossy little thing.
Anyway, I do love hearing from all of you, of course, so please continue to let me know what you think about the entries. :) Also, I'm looking for some prompt ideas. I want to do about 50, and I only have 42. So any help you can provide would be extremely appreciated! :) Thank you x2 for help and reading!