Bring it down to the words of inertia
Gravity and touch give you meaning
Feel the weight of the moment
As you're brought together by the sun
Shuichi liked seeing a smile on the face of the people he sung to. He liked seeing some faces just in it for the fun of it, partying their hearts out and laughing with their friends. He also liked to see those rare souls who enjoyed a song completely, as if trying to absorb it into their skin until they could understand every naunce of it.
Honestly, he got along better with the first in his better moods, but when he was being depressed and introspective, usually after a fight with Yuki, he knew that he understood the latter group the best. That love of music was what had made him learn to begin with. That love of music had sparked his initial obsession with Nittle Grasper. That love was what had made him try to understand them even the slightest little bit.
"Are you thinking about Yuki again," Hiro said, voice somewhat exasperated. "You've got a loopy look on your face."
Shuichi glared at him, sticking out his tongue. "You're mean, Hiro. I don't always think about Yuki!" 'Just most of the time.' Hiro didn't need to hear that last bit, though. Hiro already thought that he knew it well enough.
"Well, we have to pack up. Our plane leaves in just a couple of minutes," Shuichi's best friend said, blinking at him after a moment of consideration. Sometimes even he couldn't understand Shuichi. Since he was the only one besides Maiko that did even the slightest little bit, that was probably really bad, considering Shuichi and Yuki's twisted little love nest.
"Snap out of it," Hiro said again in exasperation, shaking the pink-haired singer's shoulder. Shuichi was drooling slightly. Hiro paused for a moment, watching Shuichi's eyes focus. "I don't want to know, do I?"
Shuichi flushed bright read. "It's your fault! You mentioned Yuki!"
The images of Shuichi and Yuki in lewd postions began to flash before Hiro's eyes. "I told you not to say anything!" the guitarist groaned, putting a hand over his eyes. Not that the images were completely distasteful, but it was Shuichi.
Shuichi straightened up his bags a bit more, stuffing shirts in this way and that. He just missed Yuki. It was like he was some kind of dependent girl, the way he carried on. It was just getting harder. It had just been a week already and it felt like he was going to start screaming out "YUUUUUUKI!" at random intervals, probably during an interview, just to be declared insane and be able to see Yuki.
He couldn't be depressed like this. It was making Hiro worry way too much. Hiro couldn't be worrying about him, not when things were going so well. Shuichi wanted Hiro to be able to enjoy this, their first tour.
It was just that Yuki wasn't here to see him triumph. Did Yuki even care that he wasn't there anymore? He never seemed to even mind when Shuichi was gone, so it certainly didn't seem like it, but Shuichi just hurt so much when he wasn't around.
Shuichi grinned up at Hiro and zippered the bag shut with an air of finality. If Yuki didn't care, really didn't care, should he? He couldn't let this bother him now. He just needed to concentrate on Hiro and Bad Luck and the fans.
"What are you standing around for? We have a plane to catch! People to make fall in love with us! Kingdoms to overthrow! Rise, young Arthur, for you are the King!"
Hiro sighed softly. It figured that the one time that Shuichi had bothered listening in his English Literature class he would remember it enough to come back and bite Hiro in the butt with it. He never listened that well in Japanese class!
"Seize the day! C'est la vie!"
Who did Shuichi think he was fooling? Hiro was willing to play along for now, though. Shuichi wasn't going to tell him anything if he was still denying it.
"Okay, let's go."
Tatsuha was firm in his belief that his brother was pathetic. Yuki was starting to look wearied, black ringing his eyes from lack of sleep so that he almost looked bruised. His blonde hair was starting to look stringy and his smell wasn't a particularly wonderful one.
Tatsuha wrinkled his nose. Most definitely not a good smell.
"You know, just because Shuichi isn't here isn't any excuse to give up showering," Tatsuha stated irritably.
"You're still here?" Yuki snapped back. Tatsuha began to make obscene gestures at Yuki's turned back. "There's a mirror behind you, idiot."
Okay, that so wasn't fair. Who had put a mirror there? Probably one of Yuki's bimbo designer 'friends' who had done the job for free in hopes of sleeping with him. She had probably gotten what she wanted, too.
"If this is what it's like when you haven't written anything for a week, I'm never coming here again when Shuichi isn't here. Go see him. Hell, go on tour with him."
"I don't miss Shuichi," Yuki snarled for what had to be the fiftieth. Why did everyone keep saying that? He was just having a very, very bad week, most likely because he wasn't getting laid. "I'll just go out and pick up a girl or something."
Tatsuha snorted at him. "Then why didn't you do that before?"
Yuki threw a paperweight at him.
Shuichi was a bit high at the moment on the success of the latest concert. On top of that, they were going to get to tour Sapporo and would hopefully be able to get drunk. Japan was still reeling from the last time that Shuichi and Ryuichi had gotten Drunk with a capital D. Sakano would probably call Sapporo's emergency service, just to be safe.
"Shuichi," Sakano stuttered through heavy breathing, wiping sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief. "You have a visitor." He pointed waveringly to the left, obviously wearied by the little stunt Shuichi had pulled with the pie and the ramen. Let's not mention that, though. Let's talk about something else. How about the weather?
'Did Maiko and my parents actually make it?' Shuichi wondered, blinking large violet eyes. 'I thought they said that they wouldn't be able to make it to Sapporo because of the eel and the family dinner and not wanting me to be around when they tried to cook?'
He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him once he opened the door. It was Yuki, in his six foot, golden-haired, amber-eyed glory.
"I knew that I shouldn't have eaten that funny fish," Shuichi began to mutter in front of Yuki's gaze, starting to rub his eyes frantically. "Hiro said, 'don't eat that fish, Shuichi', but did I listen? No! I had to try the funny fish. Now I'm hallucinating and seeing a Yuki in front of me. Not that Yuki's a bad thing to see, but you don't want to be seeing him here when he's in Tokyo. That would be bad."
Yuki raised a golden eyebrow. Shuichi was... babbling. It was a bit amusing and a bit pathetic all at once.
"Idiot," he said affectionately, although Shuichi wouldn't have heard the affection in the insult if he had been hit over the head with it. "If you ate bad fish, maybe I don't want to be here. You'll probably be sick all night and if you're sick I certainly won't have a use for you."
Shuichi stared at him wonderingly before launching himself at him. "Yuuuuuuukiiiiiiiiii!" he squealed. "No hallucination would call me an idiot! I missed you! You didn't ever answer when I tried to call and you weren't here and--"
Yuki cut off the flow of words by grabbing Shuichi's chin and pulling the singer's lips to his. "Do you ever shut up?" he said irritably once he broke away. Shuichi's eyes watered and Yuki sighed. He didn't understand Shuichi any better than Shuichi understood him. He didn't understand how they could have ended up together when they misinterpreted each other so badly. He told Shuichi to leave because he was being loud and Yuki had a deadline. Shuichi thought that those words meant for good. Shuichi was always dramatic, always cried, and all that made Yuki want to do was run. He hated when people cried; he had done too much of it himself for too many years because of the first Yuki.
"Come on," Yuki ordered abruptly, pulling on Shuichi's hand and heading towards the door on his left that lead to an alley outside. Shuichi squeaked.
When Yuki finally stopped dragging Shuichi after him, it was on a bridge. He looked down at the river beneath, raking a hand back through his blonde hair. Shuichi looked at him worriedly. He didn't know what was wrong with Yuki. Shuichi couldn't have done something already... could he?
"What did I do, Yuki?" he asked, concerned. "Whatever I did, I promise I'll try better next time. I'm really, really sorry...!"
Yuki blinked, looking at him with surprise. "You didn't do anything, idiot. What made you think that you did something?"
"But you're so quiet, and you showed up here when you have a deadline, and..." Shuichi trailed off, looking at the ground.
"What-- I'm not allowed to be quiet?" Yuki asked sarcastically. Shuichi stayed silent as his eyes began to water again, angering him as he furiously tried to scrub them away. Yuki hated when he cried. Yuki sighed. He wasn't doing this very well. "I have writer's block," he announced.
Shuichi looked at him, eyes wide. "But you never have writer's block, Yuki! It's like you're some kind of writing machine! Well, writing and..." He blushed.
Yuki smirked. "Apparently I've gotten used to your incessant whining enough to make it throw me off when you're not there. I was thinking about getting a white noise machine, but decided that the real thing would probably make it easier. I brought a laptop so I can go on tour with you."
Did this mean that Yuki really cared? That he really loved Shuichi? He didn't want to get his hopes up again for the thousandth time only to realize that he had mistaken the words-- again-- and that Yuki had meant something else entirely. Sometimes it seemed as if he and Yuki were on entirely different wavelengths. They never seemed to understand a word that came out of the other's mouth.
Yuki was trying, or at least, Shuichi thought so. He could never be sure, though. He never had any proof, any sign to keep hoping.
"Yuki..." he whispered, staring up at Yuki's warm golden brown eyes.
"Eiri," Yuki corrected, discomforted by Shuichi tamed gaze. There was something in there, some hopelessness that he had never seen before and never wanted to see again. Shuichi wasn't meant to be so listless and sad.
Shuichi blinked. "Eiri...?" Then he smiled, smaller than his usual wide grins and cheeful smirks.
It wasn't a declaration of love, but maybe it was a beginning of something Shuichi could begin to work for. He wanted Yuki to be able to love him as much as Shuichi loved him.
He wanted to touch Yuki. He wanted to kiss him, but Yuki hated the way that Shuichi pulled on him constantly and tried to cling to him.
And Yuki was starting to have a niggling fear that he had broken something inside Shuichi that he should have tried harder to make happy. So Yuki held out his hand and Shuichi launched forward, somehow managing to fall forward onto Yuki's soft lips until...
Shuichi had never once initiated a kiss. Never.
Yuki put a hand behind Shuichi's head and guided him closer, hating himself for giving Shuichi this much control but not wanting to push him away when that infinitely fragile look had appeared in his eyes only minutes before.
The look of an animal, wounded too many times by his master, but unwilling to stay away because he knew who fed him. The look of a person who had seen too many hopes crushed and been told by too many people that he and the one he loved were bad for each other.
Someone who knew little to nothing about his lover but wanted everything he was all the same.
And it scared Yuki. It terrified him beyond any doubt and all sanity. He had to let Shuichi kiss him, though, and not just for Shuichi. It was for him, because he never wanted to see himself reflected in that shattered look.
It wasn't an end. It wasn't even a beginning. But maybe it could be the start.
Shuichi drew back and laughed slightly under his breath. "Yuki... you need a shower."
Sorry this took a while, but it was an important chapter and I didn't want to rush it. Then wouldn't let me upload for FOREVER. I'm not sure whether I want to continue past this chapter, but I didn't want to finalize it yet. Have any thoughts? Review about it so I know whether to continue. It'll be a while, though, since I want to enter the Writers of the Future contest. Don't worry, though. I'll be using my own writing style and not channeling Maki Murakami. Heh!