Disclaimer: Shockingly, I don't own Gravitation in any shape or form, and I don't make any money from posting this story on the internet.
Summary: Shuichi has been wandering the night Tokyo again, because he has nowhere to go. Ryuichi is trying to just get away for a while. After they bump into each other, Kumaguro refuses to leave Shuichi behind. SRxSS, UExSS
Warnings: slash, sexual situations, original character
AN: I wrote this story what seems like a really long time ago. It's not up to the standard I expect of myself nowadays (see Visionary, Logical Fallacy or Nothing like Harker), and it was really rather bad before I put it through a perfunctory edit. I tried to eliminate awkward formulations and wrong grammar and spelling, so I hope it's actually readable now, but I didn't really mean to change anything about the story line or the awkward direct-speech-like thoughts... I had to, in the end, because the story was really stunningly bad. Still, I maintain that my original character is not a Mary Sue. So there.
By now the cry was so familiar that it didn't catch any attention, although today it was yet more enthusiastic than any other time. A slight pink-haired individual chased up the stairs of a skyscraper, overflowing with energy that made it seem like he wouldn't notice the difference of not using an elevator. It might have been for the better, too, because letting him in this particular state anywhere near electronics wouldn't have been a good idea.
The reason for his mood was just as simple as the boy himself.
The voice that could easily kill teenage girls repeated at unfathomable speed: "Vacation, vacation, vacation!" Upon reaching the right corridor the localised natural disaster bounced, leapt forward and with a triumphant "La li ho!" landed on the floor among the wreckage of the front door of an apartment.
Among his friends Shuichi was famous for his mood swings, but he had not experienced such a severe put-down in months.
It was not the first time Yuki had thrown him out. It had hurt before, of course, it had caused him to do lots of weird things and get laughed at about as often as get pitied. Still, this time was not like before.
Walking across the park – the park – would often make him nostalgic or happy, and sometimes even horny, depending on his current mood, but today… today he felt nothing. Inside him was a huge dark emptiness that seemed to swallow everything he should have been feeling.
He made one valiant attempt at distracting himself, trying to sing: "Fui ni miageru shiruette, kimi no… damn it to Hell…" but reconsidered quickly. Sometimes, much as he hated to admit it, even singing got depressive.
Shindou Shuichi would cry once a day, and today his fair share of tears had been shed in a fit of uncontrolled happiness over the fact that he was going to have a week off – a week to spend with Yuki. So he didn't cry now. It would have disturbed anyone who knew him, however, right now nobody who knew him was around.
'I don't understand…' he thought. 'Are you getting a kick out of this, Yuki?'
For once Shuichi knew he had done nothing to deserve such a disproportionate negative reaction (apart from crushing the poor door, but after all the time he and Yuki had been living together, his lover had long since become accustomed to his affinity for destroying things). The one point that made the situation so much worse than it ever was before, the reason why Shuichi was so upset and also the reason why he contemplated what was he going to do with the rest of his vacation was that: 'You promised. You promised you wouldn't throw me out ever again.'
He was not used to Yuki that lied. He was actually sure he could never get used to Yuki that lied.
'The baka probably doesn't even notice,' Shuichi concluded bitterly. 'Doesn't have a clue what it makes me feel like.' He rubbed at his sore eyes, but somehow the tears refused to come even so.
Darkness fell gradually, and he had been so wrapped up in his musings that he had not noticed when. He only realised that, all of sudden, the streetlamp at the juncture of paths was lit and night had obscured the more distant parts of the park.
He half-heartedly stood, and forced himself to walk out of the pure unwillingness to stay on the bench until the morning. He had no idea where was he going. Maybe he would find some all-night karaoke…? It sounded just like what he didn't need: a crowd of drunken, happy and painfully bad singers to listen to.
He resigned and let his legs carry him where they decided.
Unsurprisingly, they took him along the path they knew best and brought him to the studio. The security guys let him in without a word, sparing him only a brief glance before turning back to the TV, and Shuichi coerced himself into ambling upstairs. The illumination was dim, making the NG building lighter than the park but nowhere near as light as the karaoke would have been.
Shuichi snorted. 'At least there are not going to be bad singers here.' He sighed and closed his eyes; his fingers tightened on the stairs' railing to steady himself in case he would get dizzy. The landing was just three steps up, but he didn't seem to be finding the motivation to make those threee steps.
He sighed again and opened his eyes-
-just in time to glimpse a sparkly-eyed face practically head-butting him. He didn't even have a chance to brace himself for the impact. His attacker crashed into him, broke his grip on the railing, and sent them both to the floor in a heap of limbs.
Shuichi groaned and rubbed the back of his head. "A-ta-ta-"
The other person couldn't have been much heavier than Shuichi himself, and they quickly lifted themselves off of him. He spotted something pink and fluffy, and his already overworked and repeatedly shaken and stirred brain sent a signal to his mouth. "Sa-"
The person jerked, startling Shuichi into silence. They very insensitively stuck a fish-shaped toy into his mouth to prevent him from speaking – nearly suffocated him in the process – and dragged him up the three stairs to the landing, round the corner and into the first room on the left. When the door was safely closed behind them, the fishy object was removed from Shuichi's mouth to allow him to speak.
Shuichi pinched himself, concluded that he was really out of it, and despite all logic found himself in the suspected company.
"Sakuma-san…" he said quietly.
Ryuichi gave him a pout that could generally be considered cute, but then he frowned and his face lost all the trademark childishness. Cold blue eyes pierced Shuichi as his long-time idol frowned. "Hai, Shindou-san?"
Shuichi landed on his butt, mouth hanging open with surprise. This was the first time Sakuma-san had called him that, and he felt a painful pang somewhere inside him. He wasn't quite sure what had caused it, but he definitely didn't like being address so casually.
He stared up, eyes filled with hurt that was magnified a few times by his already dismal mood. Yuki didn't care about him enough to remember his promises. Sakuma-san apparently didn't want to be friends anymore. Next thing Hiro would be telling him they will never again play and sing together-
'No way!' he screamed inside his head.
The eyes staring back at him weren't cold anymore. Something else flashed within them, and Shuichi suddenly felt as though he was looking into a mirror. The same build, the same hairstyle, the same emotion…
"Gomen ne, Ryu-kun," he said, realising just what he had done wrong. It was almost creepy how Ryuichi always managed to manipulate him – and probably not only him – into doing things right. It only served to make the singer seem more like the supernatural being, as Shuichi imagined him.
The man instantly went into his starry-eyed mode, but he did put a silencing finger on the stuffed bunny's nose in demand for silence, before he pressed his ear to the door. The thumping of military boots could be heard even from Shuichi's position. It approached them. Sakuma tensed a bit, but then it disappeared down the stairs, and he let out a soft sigh.
"That was close. Gomen ne, Shu-chan," Ryuichi said. He didn't bother to explain what he was talking about. He stood up and scrutinised the boy still seated on the floor. His serious expression returned.
Shuichi realised he didn't like Sakuma being serious.
"You all right, Shu-chan?" the man asked. "Is there something I can do for you?"
The corners of Shuichi's lips quirked up a bit, although more with gratefulness than actual happiness. He shook his head.
Sakuma mirrored the sad smile and sighed again. Then he seemingly shrunk and his eyes swelled to an unnatural size, cinching the innocent look. "Kumaguro wants to know what made Shu-chan sad-"
Shuichi closed his eyes, shook his head in denial and rested it on his forearms, rested across his knees. His fucked-up love-life was not something he wanted to discuss with half-moulted pink plush bunny.
Sakuma's pager started beeping like mad. The plushy disappeared from Shuichi's vision and a small black box flew across the room, crashed into the opposite wall and fell to the floor. It merrily went on beeping.
"I've gotta run, Shu-chan," Sakuma said, hurrying toward the exit. "You take good care of yourself-"
Shuichi finally looked up. He was cold, shivering, and the emptiness inside him wasn't huge enough to swallow all the heartache anymore. "Ryu-kun," he muttered.
He didn't want to stay here for the night. Not alone. Not on the carpet in an impersonal uniform conference room, not when the only thing to do here was reminisce and quietly sing all the super-sweet, super-sad ballads he knew. He still didn't feel like singing, but without singing, what was he good for?
Sakuma turned on his heel, hopeful to find out what was ailing the youth.
"Where…" Shuichi spoke. "Where…" But it wasn't appropriate to question Sakuma, and Shuichi, maybe for the first time in his life, shut up before he said something he would regret later.
"Kumaguro wanted to go on holiday," Sakuma non-answered. "So he is running from K. He always takes Ryu-chan with him, too-"
"Could…" for the second time in his life Shuichi shut up before he stuck his foot in his mouth.
Sakuma's eyes narrowed for a split second, and then widened to their overlarge size again. "Kumaguro wants Schu-chan to come with us."
They snuck down the emergency staircase. Shuichi followed Sakuma in the darkness, orienting himself more by the sound of quiet footsteps than by sight. He had no idea how far they had descended, so it took him by surprise when the older man opened a one wing of a double-wing door and they stepped into the underground parking lot.
Sakuma meandered between the few parked cars and crossed the vast empty space to the opposite wall. There, hidden from sight and from security cameras by a pillar, stood a motorcycle.
"Shu-chan, are you up to it?" Sakuma whispered to prevent his voice from echoing.
"We cannot use the car, K would find us within an hour."
"It's alright," Shuichi answered. "I'm used to riding on the back of a motorbike."
He used to do that a lot with Hiro, but that was before Ayaka. Since Ayaka there had been too little room for a childhood friend in Hiro's life – so little, in fact, that the friend had to spend his night at NG to avoid sleeping in parks.
"And I'm used to being depressed…" he added to himself under his breath. Sakuma was already seated and Shuichi hastily climbed behind him, as though afraid that he might be left behind. Funnily enough, he didn't think he actually would be.
As soon as they were out of the building, Shuichi heard yelling voices in the underground, followed by shooting, but they were already speeding up the road. It would take just a few seconds for K to start the car and come after them, but Sakuma was experienced with escaping the grasp of his former manager. He was also a skilled rider.
Half a minute later they were separated from the studio by a maze of alleys too narrow for a van to drive through. After that, their distance grew with each second. Another half a minute passed, and they reached the main street.
Sakuma steadied the bike and rounded, surprisingly, onto a road that would take them out of the city.
Shuichi felt incredibly weary, probably due to his emotional state. Nevertheless, he had to maintain a rather tight grip on the man sitting in front of him to be sure he wouldn't fall off. The real-life Sakuma Ryuichi was much smaller than he was made to look on TV, and although Shuichi had already known that, it was just now, with his chest pressed against the man's back, that he realised how small. Truly, no bigger than Shuichi himself.
'Hell, I am touching my idol, my kami… actually it's more like I'm draped all over my kami…' Shuchi felt dizzy. His stomach threatened to turn. He remembered that he had not eaten for hours.
Now he wasn't so sure he was up to riding a motorbike, even if it just meant clutching onto the skinny guy in front of him. "Ryu-kun…"
Sakuma slowed down and the roaring of the wind in their ears lowered. "You're fine?"
"Not sure," Shuichi breathed. He gritted his teeth and hardened his already steely grip on the man.
Sakuma drove to the side of the road and stopped. Gentle hands helped Shuichi dismount and guided him to sit down onto the street-curb.
He was breathing shallowly and his heart made a good effort to pound itself out of his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Sakuma was scowling at him.
"Are you mad, Ryu-kun?" Shuichi forced out.
"No, of course I'm not," the man replied solemnly.
It didn't seem like he was not mad, but Shuichi believed that Sakuma wouldn't lie to him, so he was quite confused and, consequently, ashamed of himself for screwing-up again. Not being able to hold on, sitting on a motorbike, just because his lover had thrown him out… so pitiful.
"Here," Sakuma said in a low, cool voice, not revealing a hint of emotion.
Schuichi focused and his jaw dropped.
Sakuma forced a chocolate bar in his hand. "Eat, you'll feel better."
Purple eyes locked with icy-cold blue. Shuichi shivered. "A-arigatou, Ryu-kun."
Shuichi munched on the bar, while Sakuma sat next to him and stared into the darkness disturbed only by the occasional passing car. The chocolate wasn't much, but it was enough to steady Shuichi's stomach and pour a bit of energy into his veins. About five minutes later he felt much readier to set out.
As he mounted the bike, Sakuma turned around and gave him one of those chilling gazes. "Shu-chan, if you are sick again, tell me."
"Ryu-kun…" Shuichi stupidly gaped. Was that concern instead of exasperation in Sakuma's voice?
"Uhm…" Shuichi did some really quick thinking. The chocolate helped with that endeavour. "Where are we going?"
Sakuma kicked on the engine. "To my family house."
The ride took two more hours, but after the crisis Shuichi held himself well enough. He had a lot to think about, and majority of the subjects took his mind off of Yuki. He gradually calmed down and realised that there was nothing he could solve right now. Time would show where he would go from here.
One thing that did trouble him above others was why Sakuma didn't just drive them to his apartment. Of course, it was a logical place for K to check, but still, it was much closer and there wouldn't be any need for awkward explanations… He couldn't figure out anything, so he thought instead about Sakuma's family. As a dedicated fan of Nittle Grasper he knew that Sakuma was an only child – but he might have had cousins. Shuichi had no idea what to expect, how to act around the people he was going to be introduced to.
Also, wasn't it illogical for Sakuma to choose to go home? It would certainly be one of the places K would check…?
A thin stripe of pink light appeared on the horizon in the East. Shuichi was rapidly getting cold. He almost asked Sakuma to stop for a while to stretch and shake out his limbs a bit, to restore any semblance of blood flow, when they turned off the main street and followed an uneven path among trees. About ten minutes later, during which the absence of the cutting wind let Shuichi warm up a bit, they arrived in front of a traditional family house. The sky was already clear.
Shuichi straightened and stared over Ryuichi's shoulder. To someone like him – born and raised in Tokyo – the site seemed strange, but there was no doubt this was the place they were headed to.
The board in front of the house read 'Sakuma'.