Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Maki Murakami does.

Prompt: "Do you know what this is, Shuichi?" Tachi asked, and then smirked. "It's a camera. A camera that will take pictures of you, like this."

Rating: M for implications of rape. M for violence and dark material. Note the rating. -_-

Unfathomable

("I'm going to do it.")

The words still echoed in Tachi's head as he watched the small figure of the boy he hated stumble from the effects of the tainted alcohol, and through a tinge of disgust his twisted smirk was brilliant.

"T-Tac…hi." Shuichi was trying desperately to say his name as he struggled to keep to his feet, and it kept the smirk strong. "Tac… somethi…something's wrong."

("Tachi! You can't be serious! It's wrong!")

Makun's warning was a distant echo as he moved to wrap an arm across the younger singer's back, under his arms to steady him. "Too much to drink, I think," he excused lightly, chuckling gleefully as Shuichi smiled in acceptance. Too easy. "How about I take you home, eh? Where are you staying?"

("I'm going to do it.")

"Er…" The smooth forehead crinkled as entrancing violet eyes narrowed in thought. "With… with my … my friend. Friiiiend…" The smile twisted upward a little more. He was out of it.

"Well, let's get you to your friend then."

("I'm not going to cover for you, Tachi! I won't hide this for you!")

("That's fine. Ken will. And then what, Makun? Will you abandon us both so easily?)

("That's … that's not fair, Tachi.")

"Too much to drink," he explained to startled hotel staff as they stared with wide eyes, taking in him and his obviously drunk companion. They accepted the reason easily enough, pushing themselves out of his way as if in fear of contact and contamination. Sunglasses and a baseball cap – lame disguises that did the job nicely – no one questioned them. A few disapproving scowls, eyes wide, nothing more as the smaller body trembled against his. It was too late for anyone respectable to be out. Too late for anything…

("How's tonight sound? You'll be paid a bonus, of course, for moving the time up.")

("Tonight is perfect. I think we're more than ready.")

"W-wheeere?" Who would have guessed the kid made a quiet drugged-up drunk? The word, though slurred, was almost too soft to be heard. "I did..n't tell you where…"

"Oh, that's alright, Shu!" Tachi assured with a gentle squeeze, leading them towards the back exit. "You'll get there, don't worry." He pushed the door open quietly, smirk still in place as Shuichi stumbled on the step and giggled. Small hands gripped him tightly to maintain balance, and through the childish laughter he could hear hiccups of gratitude for the help. No notice of the darkened area, of the lack of company. Or that they weren't heading in the right direction.

("You know what would happen to you if you got caught? To us?")

("Don't worry about it, Makun! I won't get caught. I promise.")

("I just … why? Why would you want to hurt him, Tachi?")

("He won't get hurt that bad. I'm just going to … scare him a little. Don't worry about it.")

"Took you long enough, Tachi," a low voice grumbled the moment he helped the teenager over the hump of the curve to the parking garage. His twisted smirk grew to a more relaxed smile as the two men he had called stepped into the dim lighting. The giggling of his companion stopped instantly as they grew closer, and he could feel the body in his arms tense in confusion.

"Tachi?" His name wasn't stuttered this time, and despite himself his risked a glance down, to see the eyes he hated staring at him in trusting suspicion. And he let Shuichi fall with a movement of his arm. Instantly, one of the thugs dashed forward and pulled him up into his own arms, touches less gentle than Tachi's had been. Shuichi's trust turned to horrific fear.

"T-Tachi?"

("He's just a kid, Tachi. No matter how beautiful he is, how talented his is, he's just a kid.")

There were so many ways to rid yourself of a threat, so many things that could be done that would not be considered illegal, and Shuichi was a threat. But Tachi had not been able to content himself with verbal threats, or subtle sabotage, because every time he pictured bending Shuichi Shindou to his will, and out of Bad Luck, it always managed to be like this.

("He won't get hurt that bad.")

Tachi was a good liar.

He said nothing as his thugs did what they were hired to do, did not flinch as Shuichi cried out as he was kicked in the back, punched in the ribs. His own glee grew as the singer's anger became more apparent – he shifted just right, and the camera in his pocket pressed against his leg in reminder.

"Stop." And they did, both of them, crazy grins on their faces as they massaged stolen blood further into the skin of their fists. They stepped back, leaving Shuichi kneeling on the floor, and Tachi approached in confidence. The teenager was not so intimidating when so beaten like this.

"If you want this to stop," he whispered over the bowed pink head. "Then you will go to Seguchi tomorrow … and resign from Bad Luck." The head jerked up, bloodied face twisted in an expression of surprise.

"What? Th-that's what this is about?" The intoxication that had clouded those eyes seemed to have disappeared in the pulses of adrenaline. "I won't do it! You can beat me up all you want, I'm not quitting my band!"

("I'm just going to … scare him a little.")

"Do you know what this is, Shuichi?" He pulled the camera from his pocket, smirking as the eyes narrowed in fury. "It's a camera. A camera that will take pictures of you, like this."

"So what?" The kid demanded before Tachi could finish, spitting a collection of blood from his mouth as a small smile of his own grew. "Like I said, do what you want to me. I won't leave Bad Luck. Ever."

"I was really … hoping you would say that." And he stepped back, a funny feeling in his stomach as those eyes lost a little the further he moved away. And nodded to the thugs. "I will take pictures of you like this, Shuichi." A solid punch landed directly in the side, and Tachi wound his camera. "Of you broken, bleeding, hurt." In point, he snapped the button and relished in the flash. He laughed lightly as Shuichi cringed away, and then abruptly stopped. "And I will sell them to every tabloid and newspaper, and claim Eiri Yuki did this to you."

And those hypnotizing eyes widened. "No…" But Tachi carried on regardless.

"But you've already refused me, and my offer to let this go easily. And I made a promise to these guys, of what would happen if you did." He allowed his smile to turn sad. "So I'm going to take pictures as they take their payment, okay? Okay, Shuichi? It's not going to be pleasant."

"For you, at least," one of the thugs added, and reached forward to yank off the teen's shirt.

("He won't get hurt that bad.")

-_______________-

One picture left, and the men were done. They stood off to the side, talking to each other, beaming and laughing as they waited. Tachi paid them no attention, eyes focused solely on the slim figure curled on the ground, shivering violently as thunder roared outside.

("I'm doing it.")

"Do you understand now, Shuichi?" He murmured, once again standing above the younger singer, who simply cringed in response. "I will destroy his career, if you don't quit. I will destroy him. Do you understand?"

"…Yuki…" The whimper was the only response.

"Will you quit Bad Luck now, Shuichi? Will you give it up to protect Eiri Yuki?"

"…Yes…"

Tachi snapped the final picture, and then kicked the clothes over.

("He's just a kid.")

He pocketed the camera, and left.

This submission made me cry. :( But it was necessary for the next submission.

Let me know what you thought?