Drifting Souls

a Gravitation fic by

Mitsukai

'Souls are strange beings. The move where they will and are yet confined within the contours of the body. Greeks thought the body the temple of the soul, where it dwelt freely. During the middle ages, it was thought that the body was the prison of the soul. It is hard to tell which is correct, in this day in age, though it seems to be elements of both. Yet when bouncing around on the pinball board of life and existence, certain souls find and attract others. There is no pattern in these kindred souls, perhaps they belong to man and woman, man and man, woman and woman, human and animal; each attraction and bonding is a special thing. In strange instances when a group of souls are brought together by one...

It is called Gravitation.'



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Chapter I - This is My Box

I Never Travel Without It

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The sharp sound of black stilleto heels echoed in the hall within the majestic, yet somehow unflattering corporate builting of SoundSoft Tokyo. They clacked along indignantly, sometimes faltering, as if the wearer carried an unimaginibly heavy weight upon her shoulders. Cross mutterings followed the sound of the heels like a piece of metal infallibly drawn to a magnet in a trail that could have easily been picked up by anyone looking for the sort of inane mutterings only one who has just become put out utters. Only an ant could have detected the subtle differences in the rhythm of the pounding footwear to gather the knowledge that though the wearer was quite irate, there was a bit of freedom in their feet. However, such knowledge is useless to an ant, and no one would listen to one given the choice.

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Yamishika Hikari emerged from the building that was a symbol of the company that had been her support, her backbone, and her encouragement for almost half a year; she felt absolutely no remorse in doing so. In fact, she felt freer than she had in ages. The worn strap connecting her shoulder to a loved and worn piece of metal and plastic squeaked encouragingly, though it, as always, had nothing much to say. She paid it no heed but for a loving pat, and continued her walk to the street just in front. If she was lucky she would get a cab, and if she weren't, she would continue to wait until she was lucky, for walking long blocks home with one's shoulder attached to a piece of metal and plastic is not the most enjoyable task.

Abandoning the unshapely burden was out of the question, however, for like the lump of ugly rock which holds a beautiful quartz, her burden was a precious one. Within the unweildy box which held only the vague shape of the wonder encased in it lay Hikari's most important thing that she could remember; her specially crafted jewel, her wooden cello.

In fact, the reason Hikari was in the SoundSoft building at all, for it was indeed one of the more well known labels in Japan, was because of her cello and her music. Maybe she didn't have as much of a rabid following as any one of the new J-pop and rock bands, say Bad Luck, but she was pretty popular if she did say so myself; and it happened that she did say so. It was SoundSoft that had taken her in and re-mixed her into something the public would eat, even if they had to be spoonfed. Since she was something new, they didn't even have to be spoonfed. Everyone knew about her, even if they didn't happen to like her at all, and it was all the doing of SoundSoft.

That was what stuck in her throat, and wouldn't go away. Something about the SoundSoft 'family' just wasn't what she wanted. Sure the promotion was nice, and she was doing fairly well, but something was still off colour; sort of a sickly hue.

"Yamishika-san is doing well enough," they had said, as she passed by the president's office on her way out one day, "but we're afraid that if we don't convince her to get something besides that acoustic cello she's always using, sales will go down. Sure she's good, maybe even gifted. She can make you feel things with that cello, sure enough, but so many solo albums of piece after piece gets monotonous after a while. It's not showing now, but I fear for the future." Soon after, she bought her first six stringed electric cello. It was a beautiful and shiny ebony cello, and she named it Tsuki and had it inlaid in silver on the back in romanji, because it looked more graceful at the time. Going a little farther, she had a crescent moon done on the front, just for the namesake.

The company never suspected that Hikari had heard them speaking, and were quite surprised when she showed them the addition. She produced a new array of songs within months, and buisness was doing well. However after a few weeks they stopped recognizing her, so she assumed they still weren't happy, and then proved they weren't today, when she passed the office again.

"Yamashika-san's ratings are doing well now, but I think we're scheduling too much for her. Yamashika Hikari may be one of SoundSoft's hits, but she's a girl; and she's a soloist. How much longer do you think she can keep this up?" Three and a half seconds later, Yamashika Hikari severed her contract, and departed the monolithic building forever. For the first time, she was feeling free again.

'Of course the press'd be all over me, but I could handle it. The million yen question now was... How am I going to support myself?' she thought to herself, the syncopated rhythm of her awkward heels (for show only,) was creating another percussive song in her head. She'd just moved out of her old apartment, and had been staying at a hotel downtown, and was pretty sure that she wouldn't be able to afford anything else, what with the bills on Tsuki still coming. Shaking her head clear of cobwebs and the spiders that went with them, she looked up as a cab turned the corner. Ah, she still had it; lucky until the end.

She asked the driver where she should set her burden; the reply being the obvious, the trunk. She sighed, and nestled her cello back there carefully, before returning to her seat in the back of the cab, and directing the driver to where she had wanted to go. The drive was uneventful, and before she knew it, she was humming again, making up yet another piece for a company she no longer belonged to. Pressing her face close to the window, she breathed a cloud of air on the surface, and began doodling in hiragana all over the cloud it left. The weather was beginning to turn cold, and her breath made a suitable writing surface.

The vehicle stopped on the street, and with apologies to the driver for the window, Hikari left the cab. The cab pulled away, and she turned to look at the drab hotel where she was staying and made a face. Five seconds later, she made another face, not so pleasant as the first.

"Oh, Kami-sama!" was the cry, as the cellist scrabbled in her oh-so- awkward heels to glance at the retreating cab which still contained her cello. Kicking off her shoes without a second thought, she snatched them off the ground and set off at a dead run, trying to catch the cab.

Block after block of feet pounding against the cold sidewalk did no wonders for her feet, and before long she decided that it was useless. She slumped against the wall nearest to her, stared after the damn cab that'd taken her case, and looked generally pathetic; which was one of the only options left for her after this escapade. She managed enough of a smirk to laugh at herself, for this really was a wonderful situation. It looked like, in spite of catching a cab, she would have to walk home.

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Yuki Eiri was in trouble. He could vaguely recall Shuichi's inane ramblings up to the point where he had given up on his lover's sanity and had fallen asleep again. The last few words he could remember before finding the pillows a comfortable place for his tortured ears were, 'Remember to come home early, Yuki, because-.' Because? So here he was, driving back early because Shuichi had undoubtedly planned something. If he missed it, he would be knee deep in tears, and everything would be waterlogged; not a fun way to spend the afternoon.

He was just passing a group of buildings a few blocks away from his destination when he caught sight of his sister, leaning against a wall with an unusual smirk plastered onto her face. One of his eyebrows raised of its own accord, and he vaguely wondered if he should stop and see what was wrong with her. With that look she must certainly have cracked. Of course, he'd never seen Mika in a black trenchcoat either... and was she holding her shoes? That was the final straw; maybe he could pick her up and drop her off at the mental institution on his way, and just hope fervently that Shuichi had tripped over something large that would hamper his progress.

She looked up when the car stopped, wondering what the purpose was; becoming quite surprised when that writer stepped out. Of course things soon got much stranger.

Mika. What are you doing." he said, slowly. Somehow, Hikari could almost feel the backward pulling of the words, as if the one saying them had them attached to a rubberband, and they had to fight to get out and stay out.

"I'm afraid you've mistaken me. I'm not Mika." Wondering if she looked like this 'Mika,' she crossed her arms over her chest, and realized with a slight twinge of embarassment that she was still carring her shoes; she made no move to put them back on, even though her feet were getting quite cold. She then was the proud owner of a look that one receives when the owner is about to give up the chase. Privately wondering if she had indeed taken leave of her senses, Yuki looked at his watch, breathed out a sigh of resignation, and then calmly stated that he had no time for this sort of thing, and that if she'd just get in the car things would be much better.

Hikari sighed, privately wondering if he had taken leave of his senses, before deciding that she could make this into a piece of good fortune if she tried. Maybe after convincing him that she wasn't Mika, she could get him to give her a ride to the cab company so she could get her cello back. So she got in the car; the inside was almost as sleek as the outside, if that was possible.

"Who are you then." Came the question, breaking the silence with a bat similar to ones used to accidentally smash in respectable people's windows. Hikari looked over to the driver, then down at her feet, which incidentally were still not wearing shoes, and then forward again.

"My name is Yamishika Hikari. I've left my cello in the trunk of a cab, and I'm not wearing shoes because I hate heels, and it is not possible to chase cabs while wearing these death traps. I don't know if I look like 'Mika'," Yuki took this opportunity to scrutinize the woman who he had just picked off the street, and with a mental wince he realized that it was not his sister who he had picked up. Granted, she did look very similar, but she had more of a wide-eyed quality than the materialistic Mika, and she was definitely smaller; he cursed his luck, which was undoubetedly taking a turn for the worse if that was possible, for not noticing sooner, and realized she was speaking again. "or not, but since I'm already in the car, would it be possible for you to give me a ride to the cab company so that I could retreive my cello, please?" Closing his eyes for a split second, Yuki worked out the time frame in his head, and decided that he was already late enough, he didn't need this sort of thing right now.

"No." Was the simple answer, which always seemed to deflate people. Hikari shrugged, and sat back. However, the thoughts were running like mice behind her eyes, which made it quite easy to see that she was contemplating something. She looked out of the window as the car began to slow down.

"Where am I going then?" She asked, raising an eyebrow as he parked the car outside the place he shared with Shuichi. Wonderful, Yuki thought, this day is not going at all how I had planned. The plan had been to sit somewhere quiet, and write. These deadlines were giving his already hairline temper split ends. He resigned himself to his fate, watched the firing squad come into position, refused the blindfold and lit a cigarette.

"Come up and have some tea." He tried to make it sound as if the entire event had been planned from the start, and sighed resignedly as the young woman closed the car door and walked up the path behind him, still shoeless.

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Notes: First chapter up, Yatta! No notes yet, because nothing much has happened. ^^

It's only rated Romance/Angst because it will be, overall. ^_^; Just getting warmed up.

Minna-san, review, Onegai?

Flames will be used to roast marshmellows for the starving cast and author.

All the characters are copyright of Maki Murakami, as is the series as a whole (please don't sue me, I'm so poor I have to use flames to eat. ;.;), except for Kari-chan, who is mine. You're welcome to use her (Who would want to?) if you'd like *cough* just tell me beforehand, because I want to read whatever happens to have her in it.



The moral of the story is, there are no morals.