Chasing After Me

A Gravitation Fanfiction

Author's Notes: This fic was inspired by me agonizing over when I was finally going to get to see the last two episodes of Gravitation. Throughout the series, I always thought that Yuki and Shuichi make the cutest couple but Shuichi puts up with way too much crap. I would have given up on Yuki long before the series ended, so that's how I came up with this fic. Expect rampant OOCness! EDITED VERSION

Thoughts: Thoughts

Disclaimer: All rights to Gravitation belong to Maki Murakami-sama, SPE Visual Works, Sony, and WOWOW! But don't I wish they were mine, *sigh* ^_^

Part 1: The End of Us

Shuichi unlocked the door to the apartment that him and Yuki had shared over the past two years with a big smile on his face. After a year of non-stop touring, rehearsing, and recording, Bad Luck was getting a two-week vacation!

"Yuki, tadaima!" Shuichi called out cheerfully as he glanced around the living room, searching for the young writer. Walking to the small study, the kitchen, and finally the bedroom, Yuki was nowhere in sight.

"Yuki, where are you?" the pink haired singer whimpered to himself as his exuberant mood quickly deflated. Plopping down on the sofa that still served as his bed many nights, he stared emptily at the ceiling. While he studied the patterns overhead, Shuichi sighed, a sound that was rarely heard from the emotional singer. In fact, Shuichi had been feeling down these past two months without any reason at all. Usually Yuki and his relationship was the only thing that could make Shuichi feel depressed but the couple hadn't had any ups and downs in a while. Sure, Yuki was still cold and distant at times but Shuichi had long gotten used to his attitude.

"Yuki . . . where are you?" Shuichi whined under his breath again as he waited for the blond writer to come home.

Yuki didn't know how long he had been wandering in the cold. He had been typing on his computer early in the afternoon when he suddenly felt the need escape the small office. So he left the apartment in a hurry, forgetting even to pull on a jacket. Extracting a cigarette from his front shirt pocket, Yuki lit it with shaking fingers as he looked around the empty park. Che, it's night already. The brat is probably at home worrying himself sick. They had been lovers for two years and it seemed that not a thing had changed since then. Sometimes, he wondered how they could be together after all this time, their personalities being the complete opposite of each other. Of course, their relationship was not always smooth; they were always fighting over something or another. But in the end, Shuichi would always be the one to give in first. Yuki felt pleased and disturbed at the same time.

Tossing the still glowing cigarette with a resigned sigh onto the pavement, Yuki turned around to walk back to the apartment.

Shuichi looked over at the clock on the VCR with a frown. He had been home for a couple hours but Yuki was still not home yet. Running a hand through his mussed hair, Shuichi felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. It was not odd that the writer will disappear for hours at a time but Shuichi was still not used to dealing with these vanishing acts. His hyperactive imagination would always take over and he would see Yuki hurt or worse in his mind. "Yuki!!!!"

Yuki opened the door to the apartment with a soft click. Glancing around the room, his body was tense, ready for any attack from Shuichi. But the living room was dark as he walked in, the singer was nowhere in sight. Must have fallen asleep. He thought relief mixed with a small amount of disappointment. But just as he began to smile, a round pink blur headed in his direction at a furious speed.

"Yuki, Yuki, Yuki! You're finally home! I was so worried about you!" Shuichi babbled on and on as he held a death grip on the blond writer.

"Hmn." Yuki just glared at Shuichi as he pried the boy off of his arm and headed to the bedroom. Before Shuichi could walk in with him, he slammed the door in the boy's face. But even as the door shut with a bang, Yuki wanted to open it again. He had been wrong about their relationship. He had thought about it all the way home from the park. Although on the surface, they still acted like the same people they were two years ago, Yuki knew that he wasn't the same. He didn't know when or how he had started to change but the only thing he was positive was that he was no longer the same Yuki Eiri that Shuichi had met in the park on that windy night. Yuki sank into the soft bed with a bemused smile on his face, he still wasn't sure if this new side of him was welcome yet.

Shuichi stood in front of the door to the bedroom without a single emotion on his face. The sound of the door slamming still resounded in his ears as he touched a hand to the smooth surface of the wood. It was in that instant that he felt something shatter within himself. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he slid limply onto the floor. Lying on the hard ground, he turned his head to the side as he looked at the living room that he shared with Yuki. The room was arranged so neatly that it was almost painful to Shuichi, who thrived on disorder. On the left was the sofa that he slept in, and the right side held all of Shuichi's possessions. It almost seemed like a small barricade in the room. His corner within the large space if the apartment, just like the tiny part that Shuichi played in Yuki's life.

Closing his eyes, Shuichi felt a tear fall from his eyes, and roll down to drop silently on the floor. He wanted to laugh at himself but no sound broke from his throat as the tears fell harder. In the two years that he had been living with Yuki, he realized that he hadn't even been able to move some of his clothes to Yuki's closet in the bedroom. Sure, it was a trivial thing, but it was the one that seemed to matter the most at the time. I am pitiful. Those words played over and over in Shuichi's head as he curled into a small ball on the floor.

Sometime past midnight, Shuichi was able to rise from the ground on wobbly legs. His head throbbed painfully as he hobbled to the sofa. For the past two hours he had lay on the floor his mind chanting a litany of questions. Is this what love is supposed to be? He wondered. Giving, giving, giving, but receiving nothing in return? That was what his relationship with Yuki seemed to be like most of the time. He loved the writer deeply but still to this day he was not sure that Yuki felt anymore than 'caring' and physical attraction towards him. Times like this one tonight was a cruel reminder of how cold and hateful Yuki could be.

He was tired. He had never felt so tired, standing helplessly in front of his lover's bedroom door, unable to walk in. Unable to talk to him. Unable to let him know how much the other's actions hurt. This isn't a relationship. Seguchi Tohma was right when he said that we would only hurt each other in the end. I am sick of being hurt, I am sick of being treated like an annoying pest, I am sick of this me that I no longer recognize. Where is Shindou Shuichi, the genki nineteen year old, without a care in the world? Shuichi studied his reflection in the large windows of the apartment that overlooked downtown Tokyo. The young man that stared back at him looked haggard, his features marred with pain and suffering. No matter how much I still love him, our relationship can't continue anymore. At least not like this. This is the end.

As dawn broke through the horizon, spilling warm sunlight into the living room, all traces of the untidy singer who lived there was gone. In the end, Shuichi couldn't even muster up the courage to leave a note to his lover. But he knew that Yuki could understand the message that he was sending him. Shuichi didn't look back as he adjusted the suitcase in his hand. As he walked down the block to the bus stop, that will take him back to his parent's home, he kept his back straight and his head held up high. His decision had been made. It was odd though; he thought that he would feel relief when he finally escaped from the crushing grasp of his relationship with Yuki but the tears that fell from his eyes would not stop flowing.

Yuki awoke abruptly from his deep slumber. Judging from the sunlight that filtered in through the shades, it was already mid-morning. Usually at this time, Shuichi would have already woke him up, but the apartment seemed oddly quiet. Pulling on a shirt, Yuki padded out of the bedroom.

At first, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, as Yuki made himself a strong cup of coffee in the kitchen. But as he carried the mug into the living room, he finally noticed what was off about the room. Shuichi's things were all gone. Not one knick-knack, manga, oversized mug, or Nittle Grasper tape was in sight. All that remained was an empty spot in the room that used to contain all those things. The coffee mug fell from Yuki's hand, shattering on the wooden floorboards.

He's gone. Yuki looked down dispassionately at the shattered pieces of ceramic and the small pool of coffee next to his feet. For a second, he couldn't breathe; his chest was so tight that he felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest. The one thing that he had always counted on, Shuichi's unconditional, almost blind love for him, he had lost.

At first Yuki felt only anger and abandonment as he punched a fist into the wall, sending the plaster flying. The pain from his throbbing knuckles didn't register as he grabbed his jacket, determined to find Shuichi and drag him back if necessary. But when his hand grasped the cool doorknob, he paused. What right do I have to go chase after him? You should be happy that he's finally came to his senses. It's your own damn fault that he left, its what you wanted remember? Yuki leaned his forehead against the door as his shoulders began to shake violently.

The eerie silence in the room was broken by a bark of rusty laughter as Yuki walked to the kitchen and got himself a bottle of sake instead. As he poured the clear liquid into a cup, his hands were still shaking as he continued to laugh quietly. He downed the first cup and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt as he looked over at the stand next to the sofa. Shuichi did leave something behind. He had been wrong. The only thing that remained of Shuichi was a picture of the two of them, taken a year ago. He remembered the adoration in Shuichi's eyes as he presented the framed picture to him. He also remembered his words to Shuichi.

"Yuki, Yuki! Don't you think we look pretty good?"


"Where should I put it? In the living room? The bedroom?" Shuichi teased bouncing up and down next to the writer, who was trying to rewrite a scene in his new novel.

"Shut up, you are annoying me brat."

Those were Yuki Eiri's famous words. The ones that were designed to hurt and to cut someone down coldly. Well he had finally succeeded. He had driven Shuichi away and h was better for it, he tried to convince himself. He had done nothing but hurt Shuichi since they had met. He was the one that dragged Shuichi into his tainted past, all of the horrors that Shuichi suffered was because of him. Yes, he should be glad that Shuichi finally came to his senses.

Yuki wanted to feel happy for his young lover. He wanted to congratulate him for finally realizing the truth about their relationship but he could only look at the sake that he held in his hands and laugh hysterically. He didn't know when or how it happened but minutes later, those hysterical laughs became gut-wrenching sobs instead. Is this what love is supposed to feel like? This terrible dull pain throbbing from deep within your body? A little too late to be regretting this isn't it? This is the end.

Author's Notes: Angst, angst, angst, angst . . . comments, questions, flames all welcome!


Shuichi: Yuki Yuki Yuki!

Yuki:  . . .

Shuichi: How could you, Bri-chan? I would never leave Yuki!

Sabrinne: ^_^;; gomen gomen, bear it for a while, onegai!

Shuichi: Wahhhhhhhhh!

Yuki: . . .

Shuichi: I want Yuki!

Yuki: . . . I would never cry like that . . .

Japanese Glossary:

Baka- stupid, idiot

Che- akin to 'shit' or 'damn'

Tadaima- I'm home