Ch. 1: The Warmth of Spring

 

"...Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices..."

The Tempest 3. 2

 

Hiretsu Arashi was everything to want in a man. He was well-bred, handsome, strong, had a wonderful personality, an easy laugh, and a heart-melting smile. When he turned his coal-black eyes on you, there was no choice but to fall under his spell and be swept away. And that's exactly what Uke Yutaka did.

Yutaka, better known the world over as Kai, drummer of the GazettE, would have been the first to tell you that he was just too busy: too busy to eat, too busy to sleep, too busy for love and relationships. Between song writing, song recording, tour preparation, and the touring itself, Kai never really planned to find that "certain someone" to steal his heart. He had no other goals in life than to play the drums until he couldn't lift his sticks anymore, then maybe, MAYBE, he'd settle down for that family his mother and grandmother were always pestering him about.

It was always 'maybe' for Kai on the subject of future life. 'Maybe' he'd find a good woman. 'Maybe' he'd father a few children. 'Maybe' he'd live into his old age in happy marital bliss. Maybe, maybe, maybe. He had his reasons, though.

In this case, it was because Kai was bi-sexual.

Oh, he'd had his share of women, but he'd also been with his share of men. That list included his best friend and band mate, Shiroyama Yuu. Aoi was special to Kai, and he always would be. They'd shared dreams and plans, hopes and desires, everything. Aoi had been Kai's first male lover, an honor that Aoi had taken so seriously that Kai had felt special and truly loved. The others in the band knew and accepted the things that went on, but they made no qualms at expressing their heterosexuality. As long as they didn't see it, they couldn't care less.

Aoi promised Kai that he'd never let himself be jealous. They weren't a couple, per say, so it shouldn't matter. Kai never let himself become angry at Aoi for the string of men who filtered through his life. As long as Aoi was happy and safe, in more than one sense of the word, Kai was fine with the way things were. By no means were they permanent, they both knew it. So, when Kai met Arashi, he had no cause to believe that things would be any different than before.

The recent tour had ended and, as was usual, the band members were spending a week apart. They loved each other, yes, but being stuck on buses and planes with one another for months at a time became grating after a while. Arguments sprung up over things that wouldn't normally bother them, testiness was evident between band and staff. More than once one or more of their managers could be heard muttering darkly to himself on the way out the door.

The third night back, Kai, in a fit of cabin fever, walked down the street from his apartment to his favorite bar. If he got their early enough in the night, he was able to get his table at the back where he could drink his cola's and the random whiskey shot without being bothered too much.

Kai nodded to the doorman, stopping long enough to drop his cover charge, always half since he was who he was, before he slipped through the growing crowd toward the bar. As always, Joe was hard at work. Joe's father was an American and his mother was Japanese, so he was an odd, yet attractive, mix of the two ethnicities. Were it not for the fact that Joe was happily married to his head waitress, Kirei, for fifteen years, Kai would have asked him out long ago. Still, he'd become easy friends with the older man, as had the rest of the band once Kai had brought them around a few times. Waving, Kai headed back to his regular table, dropping his jacket on the back of the chair before settling into it. Almost immediately, Kirei brought him a tall glass of iced soda.

"You must have a sixth sense," he said, rising to hug her. "You're too good for me."

She smiled and kissed his cheek, not lingering long enough to chat because, Kai found out later, one of her waitresses was out with the flu and another had sprained her ankle rollerskating.

Settling in, Kai tugged a few sheets of paper from his bag. There had been a few times recently that listening to the bar's pulsing techno music and the loud buzz of voices lent him some snatch of tune or lyric that needed writing down. Sometimes, he just sat there idly for a few hours, taking in the scene and getting absolutely nothing accomplished. It never really mattered anyway. This bar was his refuge and he just enjoyed being away from the mountain of responsibility he'd landed himself with when it came to the band.

An uneventful hour passed with nothing more done than a random doodle of a worm with oversized teeth taking up half a sheet of paper before him. He was in the process of giving it a hat with an umbrella attached when a shadow crossed his page. Looking up, half expecting a drunken fangirl to be looming over him, Kai was surprised to meet the crystal clear gaze of an attractive man.

"Hi," the man said, smiling. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"What?" Kai blinked, glancing down at the page before him. "This? No, of course not."

"You looked bored and lonely over here," the man said. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

Kai smiled, motioning the man to the seat opposite him. He sat, shrugging his leather jacket from his shoulders as he did so.

"I'm Arashi," the man said, reaching across to shake Kai's hand. "Hiretsu Arashi."

"Nice to meet you," Kai returned. "I'm..."

"I know who you are," Arashi cut across him gently. "You're Kai. I'd be insane if I didn't know you."

Kai felt himself blush and was well aware that his "rabid-fan" twitch was coming on. Arashi tilted his head to one side, finally letting Kai's hand go.

"I promise you, you're one-hundred percent safe with me," he said, his smile widening. "I'm a fan, I'll admit, but truth be told, I only own two of your singles. Beyond that..." He shrugged. "I can't say much."

Kai stared at Arashi for moment before breaking into peals of laughter. The other man sat quietly, waiting for the phase to pass.

"Got it all out of your system now?" he asked once Kai's laughter had died to sporadic giggles.

"I think so," Kai said, taking a drink. "I was actually going to give you my real name. It's Yutaka."

"I can see why you chose Kai." Arashi chuckled. "Yutaka's such a mouth full."

Kai nodded. "Basically. And the anonymity."

"Ah yes, that. Of course and always."

"So, what really brought you over here?" Kai asked.

Arashi shrugged, losing some of his verve. A light blush crawled across his face as he suddenly found his drink to be the most interesting thing on the table. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to look at everything but Kai.

"I like you, Kai," he finally said, some of his strength coming back to him. "You know, don't think me a creep, but I've seen you in here a lot. Always right here at this table. I guess I just thought I'd try."

Kai smiled. This man was adorable when he was flustered.

"Why don't we get out of here?" he asked. "Go talk somewhere quiet."

Arashi's eyes lit up. "I'd like that."

Kai gathered his materials up and paid for their drinks. They both waved at Joe as they passed the bar and slipped out the door.

"Tell me a little about yourself," Kai said a few minutes later as they strolled through a park. "What do you do?"

"Me?" Arashi chuckled. "My life isn't as glamorous as yours, trust me. I'm just a lowly personal trainer. And I can tell you now, I've only worked with one big name. Back in 2004, I worked with Gackt for six weeks before that tour. Landed myself a couple of free tickets though. Man, was my little sister happy."

Kai laughed. "Is he as anal in real life as they say he is?"

Arashi shrugged. "He has his moments."

Kai stopped and sat down on a bench and motioned for Arashi to join him. They chatted on about random subjects for what seemed the entire night. Finally, Kai glanced at his watch, his eyes widening when he saw that it read one forty-five in the morning.

"It's late," he said, almost reluctantly. "I should head home."

Arashi nodded. "I understand. I have a client meeting at eleven."

They fell silent for a few moments.

"Arashi?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"Huh?"

He turned to face Arashi and boldly took one of his hands. "Thank you for tonight. For coming over."

"It was my pleasure."

They stood, still holding hands. Each smiled and blushed as they let go slowly.

"Um, Kai? Can I... see you again sometime?" Arashi asked, blinking quickly in his nervousness.

Kai smiled and reached into his bag for a sheet of paper and a pen. He came up with the page he'd drawn on and, by the single lamp lighting the path, he wrote his phone number in the body of the worm. Arashi took it and slipped it into his pocket.

"I have the next few days off," Kai said. "We just came off a tour, so we get a few days downtime before we start work again."

"I'll call you tonight," Arashi promised, moving closer to Kai.

They embraced, feeling as if they'd known each other forever. And suddenly, their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. Chaste though it was, Kai felt his lips tingling for long moments after they parted.

"Good night then," Arashi said, smiling once more before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

"Good night," Kai whispered before he, too, turned and headed for home.

The lights were on in his apartment, which was odd because Kai only ever left one lamp on in the living room when he went out. He found Aoi stretched out on his couch, asleep. Smiling, he knelt next to his friend and poked him playfully in the ribs. Aoi, who'd only been dozing lightly, jumped and laughed, trying to squirm into the back of the couch.

"Hey! Knock it off! Yutaka!"

Kai relented, grinning. "Hello, sleeping beauty."

Aoi yawned and stretched. "Where've you been?"

"Out," Kai answered, climbing back to his feet. "I met someone."

"Oh really?" Aoi said, a slight edge to his voice.

"Yes really. Is that such a shock?"

Aoi sat up and shrugged.

"Anyway," Kai continued, pulling his messenger bag from his shoulder and dropping it into a chair. "we met at the bar and just spent the last few hours at the park. Talking."

"Talking?" Aoi lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes, talking." Kai laughed. "People do talk, you know. Especially when they first meet."

"So, you meet some stranger at a bar, then you wander around a park in the dark with them?"

"Aoi, what is this? The third degree?" Kai looked shocked. "It's not like I've done anything wrong!"

Aoi snorted.

"Look," Kai said, his voice taking on an edge of its own, "you promised me. Remember? And I like this guy. He's funny, he's sweet, he's smart... he's not bad looking, either. And we're going to see each other again."

Aoi's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, I'm happy for you. I really am."

Without another word, Aoi stood and gathered his things, slipped into his shoes and left. Kai stood in the middle of the living room and stared at the door, shocked and somewhat disturbed. Aoi was acting strangely about the whole situation and Kai didn't have the first clue why.

Suddenly, he was grateful that Aoi hadn't asked for Arashi's name.

 

When Kai woke later in the day, he was shocked to see that he'd been sleeping all day. It was already after three in the afternoon. Rolling over, he curled around his pillow again, reaching for his cell phone. He had seven text messages waiting for him. The first two were from the band's manager, telling him he needed to schedule the next meeting with the PSC executives to go over the tour numbers. The third was from his cousin, Mina, who was in town and wanted to see him. The fourth and fifth were from Reita and Uruha, respectively. They both wanted to know if what they'd heard from Aoi was true. Kai smiled, scrolling to the next message. It was Arashi.

"I can't call tonight. My mother is ill and I need to be with her. But I will call in a few days. Sorry. -Arashi"

Kai sent a message back saying that it was alright and that he looked forward to it. The seventh message was from Aoi, asking him to call as soon as he could. Checking the time stamp, Kai tossed the phone aside. Aoi's message was a few hours old. Calling now was useless, as Aoi was more than likely already pissed that he hadn't called right away. Yawning, he crawled out of bed and headed for a shower.

His cell phone was ringing when he left the bathroom.

"Hello?"

"Yutaka? Where've you been?"

Kai sighed, running the towel across his wet hair. "I was asleep most of the day, Yuu. There's no law against that."

Aoi made a disbelieving noise.

"Look," Kai snapped, tossing the towel into the hamper. "Believe me or don't, I frankly don't care. Did you call for a reason, or did you just want to harass me?"

Aoi was silent for a few moments and Kai strongly considered hanging up on him before he spoke again.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go get dinner with me, that's all." Aoi's voice was softer, almost apologetic.

Kai stopped, collecting himself. Aoi really was too much at times.

"Sounds great," he finally answered. "Do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

"No, I'll come get you. Seven-thirty?"

"Sure. Sounds great. See you then."

Kai hung up the phone. He had a headache now. Glancing at the clock again, he decided a short walk and a light lunch were in order for the time being. Dressing quickly, he left the apartment.

Rounding the corner a few blocks from his building, Kai paused. He had the feeling that he was being watched. Although being recognized on the street was fairly normal for him, this was a different feeling entirely. It felt like there were eyes staring at him from all directions. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week, so the street he was on wasn't nearly as crowded as the main ones, but there were still enough people in the crowd that he could attempt to get lost in. A few blocks further and the feeling intensified. Stepping into the shaded doorway of a small shop, he looked around. People passed by without a glance. Cars sped back and forth with no signs of slowing. Narrowing his eyes, he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and sucked in a deep breath. Chalking it up to paranoia, he stepped back onto the sidewalk and headed home. He suddenly wasn't very hungry anyway.

Aoi rang the bell at seven thirty, as promised. Stepping into Kai's apartment, he was shocked to see all the shades and curtains drawn across the windows.

"Yutaka? What's all this?" he asked when Kai emerged from his bedroom. "This place is always open when I come around."

"Oh, that?" Kai glanced at the windows. "It's nothing. I just got a little weirded out today, that's all."

"What? How?"

"I felt like I was being followed. It's nothing, really." Kai dropped onto the couch.

"It's not nothing," Aoi replied, stepping to the window to look outside. "How long has this been happening."

"Just today," Kai said distractedly. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Nowhere," Aoi said. "We'll order in. You don't look in any shape to go out anyway."

Kai didn't argue. Aoi used the phone to place an order and paid the delivery boy at the door. They spent the next few hours on the couch, eating, watching movies, and talking. It was like it had always been, the two of them hanging out and being close friends. Part of Kai wished that it could always be that way, but the rest of him knew that it was already changing. There was Aoi's behavior over the mention of Arashi hanging between them.

By eleven thirty, Kai had calmed down significantly. He yawned and slumped further into the couch.

"Tired?" Aoi asked gently.

"Extremely," Kai said. "Which is weird since I slept most of the day."

"You want me to stay with you tonight?"

Kai stared at Aoi for a long moment, knowing that although the question was innocent now, it wouldn't remain so for long. His fear of being watched flared for a brief moment before he shook his head.

"No. I think I'll be okay for the night. Besides, I have an early chiropractic appointment. Dr. Taek doesn't like it if I'm exhausted when I come in, either."

Aoi's eyes hardened for a moment. Kai bit his lip, waiting for a tirade, but Aoi shifted his gaze and nodded.

"If you're sure." Aoi got to his feet. "I'm a call away if you change your mind."

Kai stood next to his friend, reaching out to grip his arm. "Thank you, Yuu. It means a lot that you care."

Aoi smiled softly, reaching up to caress Kai's face. "I love you, Yutaka. You're my best friend."

Kai wrapped his arms around Aoi's waist, resting his head against the others shoulder. He fooled himself for another moment that nothing had changed, but even in the middle of the thought, Arashi’s smile flashed across his mind.

“Yutaka? You shivered,” Aoi said, pushing back and staring into Kai’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kai answered. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Aoi looked ready to protest again but didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Kai’s mouth. Kai let himself melt into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Aoi and holding on tightly.

“Call me tomorrow,” Aoi whispered, kissing Kai’s temple. “Please?”

“Of course.”

Aoi gathered his jacket and shoes and left. Kai slumped back onto the couch. Being with Aoi anymore was like walking on glass. You never knew when it would cut.

3) Asrun Dream – Brief Memories of Parting

 

I remember days without you. Days of waking up alone, lost in your bed, knowing that you’re far away, but still close in my heart. I bore those times with grace and determination. I pretended a lot in those days. I hid my heart well, didn’t I?

 

Months we spent apart once, before you called me to your side. While you were gone, I was a shell of myself. A broken toy.

 

Lost.

 

I cried for you, cried for us, even if our parting was temporary. You, who couldn’t be still, and I, who could not always follow. Our lives were one, but separate. The same, but so different.

 

Your homecomings were sought after and welcomed, our arms embracing one another tightly, you promising that you’d never go alone again.

 

You lied, and I knew it, even then. You would always lie.

 

 

Like a flickering light,

"If only the ache in my heart would also become small," I muttered

 

I walk, groping in the dawn

Bathed in light, your body is scorched in my memory

Even now, you are here

 

"Etched into my heart, your dim white memory is like ice..."

Perhaps you were close by but left nothing behind, nothing but shadows

2) Kono Daremo Inai Heya De – First Times

 

As experienced as you were, you still hid behind the façade of shyness and mystery. You took me home, you loved me, and I never remember seeing another sunrise as beautiful as the one we shared.

 

Wrapped in your embrace, I would pass my years, loving you as no other, devoting my heart and soul to your happiness. Not once did I stop to think, “What about me?” Never. I’d have nothing else but you.

 

The first time I flew, you held my hand. The first time I drove, you quietly encouraged me and gave instruction. The first time I stood beside you on the stage, you smiled and teased, putting my mind at ease in front of millions.

 

You brought me to live with you in your house, to share in your quiet solitude all the things in life that you loved. It was for the best, you said, to keep me close to you. You were always a jealous lover, but a lover all the same.

 

And the first time we made love, it was with such passion that I had felt before in your stage presence, but it was also so much more. So very, very much more.

 

 

You call out to me in the quiet

When I looked back you were always near

You were just... shy

I touch you with my fingertips

 

The beginning is always sudden

On the street corner, I loved you

You were just... smiling

Looking at me mysteriously

1) Leeca – The First Moment

 

The smoky air made you hazy, but that didn’t stop the feeling of electricity that passed between us.

 

What was it about you that made me feel that way?

 

When we met again weeks later, it was with such anger in your eyes. It shocked me, the way you drove me into the wall with your burning glare. It was then that I realized. Then that I knew.

 

I had to be yours. I had to be. There was no other way to have this life. And when you came to me that night, angry, burning with fury, I knew, I knew that there was something there. I knew that I’d fallen in love.

 

You came back again and again, each time trying to convince me. Again and again, I turned you down. Until one day, I realized that I’d begun to convince you, to make you realize why I did what I did. And then, that day, I saw it in your eyes.

 

You’d fallen in love, too.

 

 

In the rays of sunlight, you were smiling

The puppy sleeping on your knee also looked peaceful…

 

A little book was spread in the palm of your hand

And you softly traced the words with a pretty finger

 

I thought that with that smile, anything could be saved…

2. Opening Serves:: The Pieces Fall Where They May

 

Niikura Kaoru hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. Between his fingers, he glanced at the clock. 8:22 p.m. He should have gone home hours ago. Instead, he was stuck here, in his office, trying to keep the people in game design from declaring war on their counterparts in research and development. It seemed that the newest computer game they were attempting to create was meeting with difficulties, namely in the areas of plot and storyline.

“Ah, I’m too old for this shit,” he muttered, pulling a bottle of water from a drawer and gulping half of it down.

The phone rang again, dragging another groan from his throat.

“This is Kaoru. What? No, Yoko, I didn’t tell Toshi he could do that. He misunderstood me. I know that the main character being a woman is pivotal. No, I didn’t tell them to change anything about it. No. Yoko, would you calm down please? All I told Toshi to do was be rational and think it through before anyone made any decisions. I know. Yes. It’s alright, that’s why I’m here. Look, tell your department to call it a night. We’ll all meet tomorrow morning at ten and discuss this. Yes, I understand. Alright. Good night, Yoko.”

Kaoru sighed, pressing the hang up button long enough to disconnect before calling down to R and D to relay the same idea to Toshi and his crew.

Hanging up one last time, Kaoru rubbed his face again. Just as he thought about calling for him, the door opened and his personal assistant, and one of his closest friends, Andou Daisuke, stepped in.

“Finally get it straightened out?” the tall black-and-red haired man asked, a hint of a smile playing on his face.

“No,” Kaoru admitted, laying his hot forehead against the cool wood of his desk. “We’re going to pick the battle up tomorrow morning. What am I doing here, Die?”

Die made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, causing Kaoru to look up sharply.

“Not going to tell me I’m crazy this time?”

“Do I have to?”

Kaoru chuckled and sat up, gathering papers and folders. “No, I suppose not. If I haven’t figured it out by now…”

Die raised an eyebrow quietly as Kaoru drifted off. He studied his boss closely, noting the lines around his eyes.

“Did Yoshiki leave?” Kaoru asked suddenly, snapping Die out of his musings.

“About two hours ago.”

Kaoru nodded, suddenly feeling sorry for his new VP. He couldn’t have come into the company at a worse time, seeing as his department heads were trying to kill one another across the board.

“Let’s get you home, eh?”

Die went back and held the door open, waiting for Kaoru to get up and leave the room. As soon as they were in the parking garage, Kaoru pulled his tie off and stuffed it into a pocket.

“Let’s stop for a drink first,” he offered. “I’ll buy.”

Die raised an eyebrow. “Really? You buy? Shocking.”

Kaoru laughed and threw a mock punch at Die. “Shut the hell up. I just need to unwind some, that’s all.”

Die nodded, getting behind the wheel of the car. Traffic was light, so a trip that normally took fifteen minutes only took eight.

“Thursday’s,” Kaoru groaned. “Karaoke stage.”

Die chuckled, wincing at the horrid singing coming from the back of the bar. Kaoru dropped the extra yen for a private room and soon enough they were seated in a well lit area with a bottle of sake.

“You don’t think Chachamaru was serious, do you?” Die asked half an hour later, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“What?” Kaoru asked, playing with his third cup of drink. “About the lawyers and lawsuits? He hasn’t got a leg to stand on, Die, you know that.”

“No no, not that. That last part.”

“About killing me?” Kaoru shrugged. “Men say things when they’re upset.”

“That’s your problem, Kao,” Die grinned roguishly. “You trust too easily. You like people.”

“Last I checked, that wasn’t a damnable character flaw, Dai.”

“In some cases, maybe.”

Kaoru spared his old friend a disparaging glance before draining his cup. “Come on, give me the keys,” he said, holding out his hand. “Time to go.”

Die grunted and handed over the keys, draining his own cup.

“Don’t hurt my baby,” he admonished, climbing to his feet.

“Yah yah,” Kaoru snorted. “Get up, jackass.”

As Kaoru helped Die to his apartment twenty minutes later, he decided yet again that there was some good that came from living in the same building with him. Muttering his thanks, Die let himself into his apartment. Kaoru waited until the locks turned before going up two more floors to the apartment he shared with his other best friend, Nishimura Tooru, though if you ever called him that, he’d likely rip your lips off. Instead, everyone called him Kyo, which seemed to please him.

Said roommate was still awake when Kaoru let himself into the apartment and toed off his shoes. Kyo was stretched out on the sofa watching some slasher flick or another. He glanced at Kaoru briefly as the elder man dropped into a chair.

“Long day?” he asked, turning his eyes back to the screen.

“You could say that. My department heads are all trying to kill each other.”

“Ah, let’em. Then you could hire new monkeys to do your bidding.”

Kaoru laughed. “I wish I could, believe me. I’m going to take a shower and hit the sack. Ten o’clock meeting.”

He rose to his feet, shrugging out of his suit jacket. Kyo paused the movie and sat up.

“You’re not working late tomorrow night too, are you?” he asked, his face a mixture of worry and seriousness.

“Not if I can help it, no. Why?”

“My band’s playing at the second largest live house in Tokyo tomorrow. Eight sharp.”

“Really? Kyo, man, that’s great!”

“Yah. Try to make it, ok?”

Without waiting for an answer, Kyo lay back down and resumed the movie, becoming engrossed immediately.

“Sure,” Kaoru muttered, smiling at the smaller man. Of all the people in the world, Kyo was one of the best.

Minutes later, standing under the hot water streaming from the tap, Kaoru began compiling a list of things he’d demand at the morning meeting. He wasn’t sure if his nerves could handle much more of their bickering and bullshit. Resolved to see the end of the fighting, he finished up and went to bed.

 

Die lay curled beneath his blankets, sleeping soundly. He knew every inch and sound of his apartment, from the drip of the shower head to the turn-on and shut-off of his refrigerator motor. When his sixth sense began to tingle suddenly, he snapped fully awake in an instant. Laying still, not daring to breathe, he waited, listening.

There, again, was the sound that had brought him out of his slumber. Well placed and almost silent footsteps in the hall right outside his closed bedroom door. Moving slowly, he reached between the mattress and the box spring and removed the knife he kept there. Easing out of bed, his bare feet made no sound as he moved toward the opposite wall.

At the door, he listened. Yes, there again, the quiet steps and a low whisper. Two of them, maybe three. Judging their distance, he reached for the doorknob.

He got two steps into the hall, his arms up at a ready defensive stance, when the taser bolts connected with his chest and stomach. He cried out sharply and dropped the knife, curling instantly into a fetal ball on the floor as the massive amount of volts surged through him. As quickly as the attack began, it ended, and the bolts retracted.

“Get him up,” one of the men in the hall instructed.

Two more came forward and hauled Die to his feet.

“Mr. Andou,” the first man said, “If you cooperate, I promise, this won’t end badly.”

The two who had hold of him began steering him back into the living room, unaware that his training as a former Tokyo police officer had Die quickly fighting back the affects of the taser. Once he felt sufficiently in control of his thoughts, he lashed out, sending one of the men crashing, hard, into an end table. The lamp that sat there hit the floor and shattered, the bulb giving one last blinding flash before it died. In that instant, Die pinpointed the two remaining men and lunged for the one closest to his position. They crashed to the floor, grappling at one another in the darkness.

Die felt himself getting the upper hand when, out of nowhere, something long and hard connected with the back of his head, and then the darkness swallowed him.

 

Six hours later, Kaoru knocked on Die’s door for the fifth time, his patience wearing thin.

“Damn it, Die,” he muttered, fishing out his wallet. “You didn’t drink that much last night.”

From one of the deepest pockets, Kaoru pulled the spare key to Die’s apartment. Ready to berate his friend for sleeping late on an important day, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“Die where… What the hell?”

The living room looked like a war zone, with one of the end tables toppled over and a lamp shattered, and the sofa shoved askew as if something or someone had collided with it.

“Die? Die!”

The apartment was silent. Careful not to disturb anything, Kaoru made a quick check and came up empty. Stepping back into the hall, he pulled the apartment door shut and reached for his cell phone.

 

A few days later, Uruha was dragged from editing an article for a future publication by a knock on his office door. He looked up, pulling his glasses from his nose.

“Huh? What is it, Hyde?”

Takarai Hideto stepped into the office, smiling easily in his suit and tie.

“Just a message from Mr. Terachi,” he said, handing over the plain brown envelope. “And instructions to leave early for your vacation.”

Uruha nodded, turning the unmarked envelope over. “Thank you, Hyde.”

“Hey, Uruha, can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“All the marks. How can you do that?”

Uruha thought about it for a few moments. “I guess… I can do things like that because I’ve learned to turn off that part of me that gives a damn sometimes.”

Hyde nodded. “Fair enough. Have a good vacation.”

Uruha chuckled. “Sure. Later.”

Hyde waved at the door, then vanished down the hall. Uruha counted to fifteen silently before prying the envelope open. Inside, he found a small silver key, a set of car keys, and written instructions.

10 p.m. tonight, Akira’s place. Toshimasa will be waiting for you at the Izakaya Restaurant. The car is parked in Lot 10, Space G-4. The key will let you into Akira’s building. Don’t be late.

Uruha put everything back into the envelope and dropped it into the locked drawer. Returning his glasses to his face, he turned back to his computer, determined to get the long article done before he left for his “vacation” time.

He snorted. Vacation. Right. Not in this job. The last time he’d had a “vacation” was when he’d gotten the flu last winter. Boy had Shinya been pissed. Uruha’s mission had fallen greatly behind schedule because of his sickness, and Shinya had made him make up for the loss in pay because the client had been unsatisfied.

At three that afternoon, the phone on his desk rang. Quickly wiping his mouth, he swallowed the last bite of his lunch and snatched the receiver from its cradle.

“Takashima speaking.”

“Kouyou, before you leave today, I have something for you,” Shinya said. “Additional information to be added to your report. Since you leave in an hour, come see me at the next possible convenient time.”

The line went dead. Curiosity piqued, he cleaned up his lunch and switched off the music player on his computer. Pushing blonde locks of hair from his face, he went down to see Shinya.

“Kouyou. Thank you for coming,” Shinya said, standing to shake Uruha’s hand.

“Of course, Mr. Terachi,” Uruha replied, adding a bow.

“Please, sit.”

Uruha settled into a chair and waited. Shinya pulled a folder from his desk and handed it across to him.

“Daisuke is out of the way. And he’s safe,” Shinya smiled at the look of concern that crossed Uruha’s features. “He’s contained and unharmed. The downside to this being Kaoru’s guard is up a bit more now. According to some of my sources, my dear old friend was witnessed shouting life threats against Kaoru as he was escorted from the building a few weeks ago.”

Uruha sighed. “So that’s part of what he didn’t tell us?”

Shinya nodded. “That and the fact that Daisuke is former police force. So the search for him is higher priority than it normally would be.”

Uruha ran a hand down his face, disbelief running like ice through his veins. “Damn it,” he muttered. “That bastard.”

“Stay focused, Kouyou,” Shinya chided. “We still have a job to do. Yukihiro promised an extra ten thousand on top of the final payment if we stay on schedule.”

“The man is made of money.”

“He has his ways, yes. But him aside, your friend Mitsuo did well for us. His personal contacts and favors got you a file at the best temp agency in the city, and got you tossed to the top of the line to fill in for Mr. Andou in his, shall we say, unexpected leave of absence.”

Uruha twitched an eyebrow. “That quick, huh?”

“So it would seem,” Shinya agreed. “Kaoru is in the process of a merger with a competitive company, and he needs all the help he can get. The new vice president of his company is handling the media about the missing Daisuke, so Kaoru’s running the show by himself. Also, there’s discord between the department heads that seems to be adding to his stress. Getting close to him and gaining his trust should be easy, if done correctly.”

Uruha nodded. “In other words, give him an easy, strong fix to his situation.”

“Precisely. That’s where you come in. You’ve got a quick mind, so I have no doubts that you’ll be able to do just that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Terachi.”

“The agency should be calling you at home tomorrow afternoon. Akira will have everything else you need.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Terachi.”

“Good. Hyde will be filling in for you while you’re away, so your editing is in good hands. Oh, and Gackt will be contacting you next week about something or other, so keep an open ear on that one. Other than that, I think we’re good to move on.”

Uruha nodded, rising to his feet. He bowed and turned back to the door.

“Kouyou,” Shinya stopped him. “Good luck.”

Uruha didn’t turn back. He stepped out of Shinya’s office and closed the door behind him. Minutes later, he was in his car, joining the flow of Tokyo traffic. He only had a few hours before his job began, but there was much to do. He had preparations to make.

 

Kaoru stared blankly at the top of his desk, barely hearing a word Yoshiki said.

“Kaoru? Hey, Kaoru, are you with me?”

“Huh? What? Sorry Yoshiki. I drifted off again.”

Yoshiki’s brow furrowed as he studied the younger man’s face. Aside from the embarrassed flush in his cheeks, there were dark circles beneath his deep brown eyes, and the crows feet that framed them seemed to have deepened in the last few days.

“Still no word?” he asked gently.

Kaoru’s face tightened. “No. It’s like he just… vanished off the face of the planet. His apartment, other than the overturned table and such, was clean. No trace of intruders or anything.”

Yoshiki had already seen the official police report, so he already knew these things, but he also knew that getting Kaoru to talk about it might help him in the long run.

“I’m sure Daisuke’s alright,” he encouraged. “You’ll see.”

“Sure,” Kaoru snorted, laying his forehead down on his folded arms. “And I hope he’s kicking the ass of whoever snatched him.”

Yoshiki ducked his head to hide the small smile that erupted at that thought.

“The police keep coming around to ask me the same damn questions over and over,” Kaoru snapped, sitting up and slamming his palms down on his desk. “Wondering if he had a girlfriend or if there was a reason he’d just up and run in the middle of the night. They questioned me about his enemies and my enemies, and whether or not I thought my business dealings had anything to do with his disappearance. All the same questions, like they think my answers are going to change.”

Yoshiki winced at the venom he heard in Kaoru’s voice. If nothing else, the police were only making things worse, and Kaoru was losing his faith in them. And, Yoshiki knew, Kaoru was fighting to keep from thinking that the worst had already happened, and that they’d never find Die in time to save him. Quickly finishing his report, Yoshiki excused himself and fled the office. He prayed Die was still alive when this was over.

1: My Name is…:: Meet the Mark

 

The phone rang at exactly 3:35 a.m., just as it was supposed to. Uruha smiled in the darkness, reaching to the nightstand to turn on the lamp and pick up his cell phone. Flipping it open, he lifted it to his ear.

“The mark is down,” he said softly, glancing at the prone man next to him in the bed. “No struggle, no mark.”

“Understood,” the voice on the other end returned. “Clean up and vacate. The cleaner crew is set to arrive in ten minutes. You will be contacted.”

The line went dead. Shutting the phone, Uruha slid from the bed, his naked body glowing in the single lamp’s light. He gathered his clothing and dressed, shoving his wallet and phone back into his pants pockets. Checking his reflection in the mirror above the dresser, he let his eyes sweep the hotel room once more. Aside from the body on the bed and his belongings spread around the room, it looked like he was alone. Uruha pulled a plastic baggy from his jacket and gathered up the used condoms from beside the bed and on the floor, sealing and pocketing the bag before he slipped out of the room.

Tokyo at that time of morning was quieter than normal, making the two mile walk home more enjoyable. As Uruha stepped onto the sidewalk, a non-descript white van rolled up next to him.

“Room two-ten,” he said out loud, not looking at the van.

The van moved into the parking lot and Uruha started on his way. Twenty blocks away, he dropped the baggy into a trashcan outside of a pizza shop before crossing the street and heading north.

It was nearing five when Uruha unlocked the door to the apartment he still shared with Aoi. He was met immediately by the smell of alcohol and the underlying hint of marijuana seeping from Aoi’s room.

“Fuck,” Uruha muttered darkly, toeing off his shoes and bee-lining for Aoi’s room. “Aoi? What the hell?”

The door to Aoi’s room flew opening, revealing a semi-nude brunette woman who giggled loudly.

“Sorry,” she slurred. “Aoi’s unavailable. Try again later.”

Uruha let out a growl, shoving past the stoned woman and into the room. “Aoi! Wake up!”

Aoi jerked awake, grunting as he focused on Uruha. “Oh, hey Uru,” he coughed out. “What’s up? What time is it?”

“It’s time for you to give a fuck,” Uruha snapped, reaching down to snatch a half used back of weed from the bed. “I don’t give a shit what you do at the club, or who the hell you do it with, but this shit could cost me my job!”

“Your job…? Oh, yah, that,” Aoi started to giggle. “Dude, Uru, calm down! You’re not doin’ it, I am.”

“I live here too, remember? Clean up and get this shit out of here.”

Casting a filthy look at the woman, Uruha left the room, barely refraining from slamming the door behind him. He spent half an hour in a hot shower, washing the stink of marijuana and sex from his body. Aoi’s room was dark and quiet when he emerged, indicating that Aoi had both gotten the woman out and fallen asleep, or he’d gone with her. It didn’t matter to Uruha much. The past two years had brought a shit load of changes to Aoi, and Uruha wouldn’t be surprised the day he got the call that Aoi was dead of an overdose.

Yawning, Uruha dropped into bed and was immediately asleep.

 

Two days later, Uruha stepped out of his car, sliding his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt as he closed the door. He pressed the alarm set button on his keys and pocketed them, hefting his shoulder bag more securely to his side. Ignoring the escalator, he walked the three levels of stairs back to street level and stepped out of the parking garage. Moments later he entered the steel and glass building that housed the Itsumura Ishigawa Agency, proud publishers of the 6Q monthly webzine.

“Good morning, Mr. Takashima,” the receptionist greeted him.

Uruha smiled and nodded, disappearing into the executive elevator and punching in his security code. He tapped his fingers on his thigh as the elevator moved upward, carrying him twelve floors straight up. The doors opened and he stepped out.

“Mr. Takashima, Mr. Terachi wants to see you,” the young woman behind the front desk told him immediately, smiling up at him.

“Thank you, Kayako.”

He stopped in his own office long enough to shed his bag and jacket, glancing at the pile of messages from the day before. Tossing his sunglasses into a drawer, he stepped back into the hall and aimed for the executive offices. At the glass doors, he punched in his security code again. With a rush of cool air, the doors slid open, admitting him to the line of offices where the top brass of the company were housed. At the end of the hall, Shinya’s pristine office beckoned. Even from where he stood, Uruha could see that Shinya had two other people in with him.

Uruha raised a hand to knock on the open door. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Shinya motioned him in. “Close the door, please, and have a seat.”

Nodding, Uruha did as he was told, settling into the seat on the left of his friend and associate Hara Toshimasa, casting a glance at the other, unknown guest. Shinya offered a small smile before returning his attention to the phone on his desk.

“Repeat that last part, please, Yutaka.”

“Gackt had to drop a shipment last night,” came the nervous sounding voice of Uke Yutaka, better known as Kai. “He came across a wasps nest of police that had been responding to a shooting on the upper west side of the city. According to him, they were checking vehicles, so he did a quick dismantle and drop before they got to him.”

“These things do happen,” Shinya said, his irritation only evident in the twitch of his fingers. “Tell Gackt that he’ll be debriefed soon, so he should lay low for a while until he’s contacted.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Yutaka.”

The conversation ended. Shinya sat back and sighed.

“We needed that shipment,” he said. “Those guns were set to go overseas and they were going to fetch a nice price. Damn.”

Uruha twitched slightly, fighting the urge to fidget as he always had since the night he met Shinya six years prior.

“As it stands,” Shinya continued, turning his attention back to the three men before him. “Kouyou, Toshimasa, I’d like you to meet Fujimura Yukihiro, an old and respected friend of mine.”

Both men offered their pleasantries.

“Please,” he said, smiling, “call me Chachamaru.”

“Chachamaru is here because he has a business proposal for us.” Shinya put in. “Don’t you, old friend?”

“I believe I do,” Chachamaru replied, reaching down next to him and picking up a black briefcase. “Unlike most of the populous of this city, I am not unaware of the underlying business that the Itsumura Ishigawa Agency does. I know that, for a price, I can find someone here who can clean up a small mess for me.”

He stood, laying the case on Shinya’s desk and opening it. He pulled a file folder out and passed it to Shinya, smirking.

“His name is Niikura Kaoru,” Shinya read. “Age thirty-three. No wife, no children. Shares an apartment with a friend. CEO of Yuhara Computer Design… Chachamaru, this is a heavy mark.”

The older man sat back down, shrugging.

“Excuse me,” Uruha sat forward. “I know of this Kaoru character. He’s been in the papers, and he’s crossed into our publications more than once in the last few years. We can’t exactly take out someone this big and not get caught doing it.”

Shinya cast him a threatening look, but Chachamaru waved him down.

“Your concern is a good thing,” he said. “It means that you think before you act. That’s good. But I think I’m one step ahead of you on that. In that file,” he pointed to the folder in Shinya’s hand, “is a detailed and thorough account of Niikura’s day. It starts from the time he gets up to the time he goes to bed at night, right down to the times he takes a piss.”

“How did you get that kind of information?”

Chachamaru’s eyes hardened. “Up until two months ago, I was his business partner. We built that empire together and made it successful until the day he up and says that he’s replacing me with someone more ‘intuitive to the needs of the customers’ or some other bullshit.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a reason to have someone killed, though,” Uruha pressed.

“The bastard stole that company from me!” Chachamaru snapped, getting to his feet. “My heart and soul went into building it from the ground up, and he fucking throws me out like yesterday’s garbage!”

Uruha was on his feet as well, ready to defend his convictions.

“Stop it,” Shinya said, his voice flat though his eyes betrayed his anger. “Toshimasa, take Kouyou out of here. Chachamaru, please, sit down. We’ll discuss this.”

Uruha let himself be pulled from the room and into the hall. The door clicked shut and Uruha found himself thrust against the wall.

“Damn man, get a handle on yourself!”

“Back the fuck off, Toshiya,” Uruha growled, pushing the other off of him.

“You’ve got no clue who that is, do you?” Toshiya growled, taking a few steps away.

“Does it look like it?” Uruha snapped.

“Uruha, that’s Fujimara fucking Yukihiro! Only the one person who saved half of Tokyo from going down the shitter when business went bust for everyone! He’s a fucking business guru, man! Hell, rumor has it, he helped set this place up.”

Uruha rubbed his face with both hands, groaning. “Why the hell didn’t I figure that out? I knew the face and name were familiar, but I've seen so many profiles come across my desk, it didn't click.”

“Because you’re a hot-headed bastard who can’t handle sitting still for more than a nano-second?”

“Touché.”

“Good. Now shut the fuck up before Mr. Terachi gets pissed.”

Uruha grunted, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, resolute to wait for Shinya’s beckoning.

 

“I apologize for Kouyou’s outburst,” Shinya said the moment his office door was closed. “He has a temper, that much is true.”

Chachamaru straightened his tie, settling back into his seat.

“No, it’s no problem,” he assured Shinya. “His honesty at the situation makes him key to this project.”

“He is my best,” Shinya said, his pride evident.

“How long has he worked for you?”

Shinya thought back. “He was twenty when I hired him. Almost seven years.”

“How many has he done?”

“How many marks, you mean?” Chachamaru nodded. “Let’s see, it was a year in training, then six months for the immunization and background runs. He was just about twenty-one when he started. Six and a half years work…” Shinya ran the math in his head. “Sixteen marks.”

Chachamaru whistled. “You’re right. He is the best. What about the other one?”

“Toshimasa? I’ve had him employed with me for eight years, but he’s only wracked eight marks. With his personality, it’s hard to find a mark that doesn’t see him coming.”

Chachamaru nodded. “So you’ll use them both?”

“Probably.” Shinya picked up the folder again. “How about the roommate? Will he be a problem?”

“Kyo? Maybe. I met him only a few times, but he’s one of those quiet types, keeps to himself a lot of the time. I pulled as much information on him as I could; it's all in there for you.”

“Hmm.” Shinya fell into his thoughts, flipping through the folder. “He’s attractive.”

“He is, yes. Among other things.”

“I’ll brief Black Widow and Silver Wolf thoroughly. It’ll take upwards of two weeks, but we’ll begin right away.”

Chachamaru smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Shinya chided, his eyes flashing. “I said Black Widow was the best, but that doesn’t make him perfect. He is, after all, only human.”

“Of course,” Chachamaru said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I never meant any disrespect. I only say thank you because you’re doing this for me.”

“The price is the same as anyone else. Two million, three-quarters of it now, the rest when the mark is down.”

“I understand.” Reaching back into his briefcase, Chachamaru pulled out two stacks of yen and set them on Shinya’s desk. “Three-quarters.”

Shinya smiled sweetly. “We will contact you from here on, so you are encouraged to forget that you were ever here today.”

“I understand completely.”

The two men stood and shook hands over the desk. Chachamaru picked his briefcase up once more and left, nodding to Uruha and Toshiya on his way out. Toshiya smiled and waved, but Uruha adamantly held his ground. He glared at Chachamaru’s retreating back until he heard Shinya’s voice.

“Gentlemen, please come in here.”

They took their seats again. Shinya looked them over, still standing where Chachamaru had left him. His eyes scanned them up and down for a few moments before meeting Uruha’s gaze.

“First of all, I’m very disappointed in you, Kouyou. If you continue to let your emotions rule you, you’ll end up destroying everything. Do you understand what I mean? If you bring down all that I’ve worked to build, I will take you out myself.”

Uruha stared at Shinya, his eyes wide. “Of… of course, Mr. Terachi. I’m sorry.”

Shinya sat down and began rifling through the folders that Chachamaru had left.

“Now, we have a new job. Here are your objectives,” he handed them each a folder. “Study them. Learn them. We have an opening window of two weeks, so I’ll set up some time soon for you two to meet with Akira for your documentation and supplies.”

Uruha and Toshiya nodded, already flipping through the folders.

“Toshimasa, you will be tasked with the mark’s roommate. Keep him busy, distract him if you can. He’s not the mark, so this is strictly play for you. I’m sure you can handle that properly. Correct?”

Toshiya flashed a smile and nodded.

“Kouyou, your job will be slightly more difficult.”

“I see that,” Uruha snorted. “This man is so tight knit, he makes Fort Knox look wide open.”

Shinya smiled. “I’m sure you can handle it. Besides, I’ve already got a plan to get you in.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Daisuke.”

Uruha flipped back a few pages, remembering the name.

“Andou Daisuke,” he read. “Age thirty-three, personal assistant to Niikura Kaoru. What about him?”

“I’m going to set it up to get him out of the way temporarily. In the meantime, Kouyou, I need you to call on your friend Mitsuo for me.”

“Hitsugi? Why?”

“Because he can do some digging for me that Yukihiro didn’t.”

Uruha nodded, knowing he could trust Shinya with his contact.

“Toshimasa, could you excuse us please? You have your objective, so you’ll see Akira soon.”

“Yes, Mr. Terachi.” Toshiya got to his feet and bowed, leaving the room quickly and quietly.

“Kouyou,” Shinya said once Toshiya was gone, “I know you bear some animosity toward Yukihiro, but I’m asking you to put it aside and focus on this. Perhaps his intentions aren’t the greatest, but I feel that there’s more to this than my old friend is telling me. Until I find out what it is, you must continue on with business as usual. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Terachi. Loud and clear.”

“Good. Now, you have some articles to edit for tomorrow’s publication. I’d like them done before you leave tonight.”

“Of course.”

Uruha smiled and stood, offering a bow before he left the office. Moments later, he slumped into his desk chair, stashing the folder on Niikura Kaoru in the locked bottom drawer of his desk. He sifted through the stack of phone messages. Three were from his mother, though he could never figure out how she’d gotten his work number, two were from Takeo down in design, and one was from Reita.

Shoving these into a drawer, Uruha turned on his computer and set to editing the six articles for publication. In the back of his mind, he kept seeing the pictures of Kaoru in the folder, accompanied by an odd, nagging feeling that something wasn’t right about this whole deal. Shinya was right; Chachamaru wasn’t telling them everything, and in this business, that could be a dangerous thing. But, he’d do as he was told and go about business as usual. Until Shinya… or his instinct… told him otherwise.

XXV. Gackt: Unexpected

 

I don’t have to tell you how much Miyavi’s leaving the studio hurt me. Or how upsetting his strict avoidance of me over the next two weeks became. I think the worst part of the whole thing was that the only person he’d talk to was You, and he was sworn to secrecy. After those two weeks, Miyavi started coming to me again, but few words passed between us. We’d lay in bed after our wild sex, and he’d drift away to someplace in his head that I couldn’t reach him.

As Yoshiki noticed that we spent less and less time together, he became friendlier to both of us, even once and a while getting Miyavi to laugh behind that plastered on smile. Sugizo, in his own fashion, supported both of us, never choosing one over the other in his attempt to remain friends. My own band, between trips to and from Japan every few weeks, were always there within reach.

“Gackt, honey, come on. Stop that.”

Chachamaru stood in my hotel bedroom, his hands on his hips, and his pretty face twisted into a concerned frown. I’d been laying on the bed entertaining thoughts of quitting S.K.I.N. and returning to Japan for over an hour, and I suppose my guitarist had had just about enough of it.

“You tearing yourself apart like this won’t help anything,” Chachamaru continued, holding his ground. “Believe me, if this is the worst thing that ever happens to you, I think you’ll be lucky.”

I didn’t look at Chachamaru, though I’m pretty sure that I’d have seen the playful, hopeful smirk he wore when I got into a depressed funk.

“Besides,” he went on when I refused to respond, “have you noticed that something’s been bothering Yoshiki lately?”

This did pique my interest. I sat up, looking quizzically at my friend. He seemed to take this as a good sign and moved to sit on the bed near me.

“He’s been looking… I’d call it guilty, actually.” Chacha shook his head. “He seems okay when there’s attention on him, but when he thinks no one is looking, he gets this look. Like he’s sad or upset.”

I tried to recall if I’d noticed anything like that lately.

“Maybe you should talk to him.”

Chacha’s sudden inspiration pleased him, so to keep him happy, I obliged his desire. It was more to have something to do, though, than of my concern for our band leader.

Once again, I found myself standing in front of Yoshiki’s palace. Using the access code he’d given us, I let myself in through the ornate gates and walked up to the house. I knocked a few times, but there was no answer. At the side of the house, another, smaller gate led to the backyard. One hand resting on it, my unease grew as I looked through it. Soft piano music filtered from the back of the house.

“Yoshiki? It’s Gackt.”

The gate was unlocked, so I stepped into the yard, closing it softly behind me. Moving quietly, I edged around the house and onto the patio that lined the large swimming pool. The French doors were open, the sheer white curtains being pulled to and fro by the breeze. Catching one of the panels, I stepped into the doorway and looked around.

Yoshiki was at his beautiful grand piano, playing aimlessly. The tune he was creating was a sad one, and I could tell from the set of his shoulders that it was appropriate. He stopped playing, and I could hear the sniffle of a man trying not to cry.

“Yoshi?”

He didn’t turn, he only hunched closer over the keys.

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

Curious, and a bit confused, I stepped into the house and moved closer.

“What are you talking about?”

“Everything. I’ve ruined it all,” he repeated, raising his head to stare at the ceiling. “You, the band… Miyavi.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I thought, when I first saw him, that Miyavi was beautiful,” Yoshiki said, still not looking at me though I was right next to him by then. “His colors, his smile, his soul; it was all just beautiful. I thought, maybe I could find a way… that maybe I could have that beauty for myself. Oh, I would have loved that. To have Miyavi for myself, you know, to have him love me.” Yoshiki dropped his gaze back to the piano keys. “I guess I didn’t count on you. I thought that if I told you to leave him alone, that if I kept you from pursuing him, maybe I’d have a chance. But I didn’t count on you actually listening to me, and having the whole thing backfire on me.”

I dropped to a crouch on the floor, stunned. So that was it. Yoshiki wasn’t afraid I’d ruin Miyavi’s future as a musician. Yoshiki was afraid I’d ruin his future with Miyavi. So many things started to make sense.

“Gackt, I’m sorry,” Yoshiki said suddenly, finally turning to look at me. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I just… wanted a chance.”

“Yoshi,” I began, keeping my voice as level as I could, “do you know what you’ve done? Do you know how much you’ve hurt him? The pain he’s in every time he comes near me, because he’s afraid it will upset the balance of this band? It’s unbearable. Your wheedling and sniveling and lecturing has made him afraid of you… and me.”

Yoshiki closed his eyes, his pain evident in the set of his jaw.

“I know. And I wish I could change it. I’d fix it if I knew how. But I’m afraid of making things worse.”

I moved onto the piano bench next to him, taking one of his hands gently in my own. Any anger I had felt with him vanished, because I understood. My thoughts raced back to Taiwan, and to Hyde, and I understood completely how he felt.

“Yoshi,” I said, “love… the best thing you can do right now is talk to him. Explain. That alone will be the best thing for everyone.”

“I can see why he loves you,” Yoshiki whispered. “I can see why we all love you.”

I cupped his face in my hands and lowered my mouth to his own. In a gentle brushing of our lips, I tried to convey a sense of strength to him. He gripped my arm tightly, silently asking me to deepen our contact. I gave him what he needed in that kiss; support, strength, nerve. When we broke, his eyes were misty, but he seemed to be opening up a little more.

“Should I call us a cab?” I asked, getting to my feet and offering him my hand.

“No,” he said, taking it and rising as well. “We’ll take one of mine.”

XXIV. Miyavi: Shock Absorption

 

What was Yoshiki playing at? Two days ago he was telling me that I couldn’t be in a relationship with Gackt, now he’s asking me what instruments I play. A glance at Gackt told me that he was thinking along the same lines.

“Well? Do you?”

Oh yah. I had almost forgotten that he’d asked me a question.

“A little,” I replied, blinking quickly to clear my confusion. “A long time ago, I mean. Why?”

“Would you be willing to learn again?”

That smile. I wanted to smack it right off of his face.

“I suppose I could,” I forced out, putting on an air of civility.

“That’s great!” Yoshiki said, rubbing his hands together. “I had a few creative hours these past few days we haven’t gotten together, and I really want to know what you guys think of this.”

He turned to his bag and began shuffling through it. We noticed then that Sugizo was sitting on the couch, looking rather put off. I caught his eye, but he shook his head at me, indicating that we’d talk later.

“Here,” Yoshiki announced, turning back with a stack of papers in his hands. “Keep in mind, it’s not finished, but I think it’s got potential.”

“Solos?” Gackt asked thoughtfully, flipping through the sheets of paper that Yoshiki handed him. “Two pianos? What is this?”

“Like I said, it’s not finished yet,” Yoshiki explained, scanning over his own copy. “There’s a lot that still needs to be done on it, but I think we can manage to pull it off.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, flailing the pages around.

“Get what?” Yoshiki looked confused.

By this point, Yoshiki’s innocent act was starting to grate on my nerves. Part of me itched to throttle him, but I held my composure. Barely.

“I don’t get why there’s a sudden change in what we’ve been doing,” I went on, a hint of my exasperation and still brewing anger leaking into my voice.

“Miyavi, we’ve all known from the start that this band was built on change and chaos,” Yoshiki answered smoothly, scanning his sheet music once more.

“Chaos? Chaos?” I took a half step forward, ready to light into Yoshiki, but Gackt’s hand on my arm stopped me. I turned to glare at my older lover, but his calm gaze told me not to argue. Growling, I shrugged him off and moved to sit near Sugizo.

Gackt’s wounded expression did not escape me.

Instead of bickering, Gackt steered us to discuss the new music. He and Yoshiki took it in turns to plink out the notes on the piano while Sugizo pulled out his violin and joined them. Having no instrument to play, I lounged on the couch, trying not to look bored or put-off while the ‘big boys’ discussed. Truth be told, I was feeling left out. Not even Gackt’s covert glances could console me.

Two hours later, You came into our studio, inquiring about lunch. Gackt and Yoshiki were content to stay put, but I wasn’t. Fuming, I left the studio, feeling four sets of eyes on my back, knowing that two of them bore concern. You caught up with me quickly, looping an arm through mine and expertly leading me out of the building and down the street. Chachamaru met us at a small diner set on a little side street. You’d almost miss it if you weren’t paying attention.

“Hey kid,” Chacha greeted me with a smile, wrapping an arm around me when I slid into the booth next to him. “Are you alright?”

I opted to give him a shrug as an answer, picking up a menu and pretending to read so I wouldn’t have to tell him. I wasn’t too far gone to miss the covert glance that went between him and You, but I tried to ignore it, too. We sat in silence until our order was taken.

I fidgeted, I tapped my fingers, I tried to stare out the window, but nothing calmed me. I felt like I was a time bomb, just waiting to go off. I’d been repressing so much of my anger and anxiety that even I was afraid of myself. You tried a few times to draw me into conversation, but I ground my teeth and could find no voice to speak. I think by then, to open my mouth would have meant screaming.

Our food arrived and I forced myself to eat a few bites, but when the greasy burger and fries hit my stomach, I felt like throwing up. After poking holes in the top bun for a few minutes, I pushed the plate away, sighing roughly.

“Miyavi?” Chachamaru’s voice had taken on an authoritarian tone. “Talk.”

I chewed my lip, trying to think of a way to put it into words. I needed to be able to express what I was feeling with eloquence, style, in a way that was utterly me. Yet, for the life of me, I couldn’t do it. The boy that I still was inside had turned up, and he wasn’t going to be poetic or lyrical about the way he felt.

I loved Gackt, more than anything, that was true. I loved every moment we spent together, every shared laugh, every smile, every slow love-making that we had. It wasn’t like I wanted what I was thinking, but there wasn’t much other choice. The way I saw it, if Gackt wasn’t the one being hammered by Yoshiki, he was content to sit back and ride it out. As completely unfair as it was of me to think that way, I couldn’t exactly help it.

By this point, You and Chacha were both staring at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I took a deep breath and looked at each in turn, settling my gaze on the table between them.

“I… I don’t think I can be with Gackt anymore.”

And in the span of the next half hour, I told them everything.

XXIII. Gackt: Meant to Be?

 

True to his word, Ju-Ken brought Chachamaru and You around the next night. The five of us went out for a few hours, giving ourselves an impromptu walking tour of Las Angeles. Miyavi stayed close, clinging to me when it was possible. In a secluded corner of a restaurant, we brought the other two as up-to-date as possible, only skipping a few minor details.

“What the hell is his problem?”

Chacha’s expression was murderous as he reached over and pulled Miyavi into a tight hug. I chuckled as Miyavi snuggled into him cutely, almost purring with delight over the attention. Robot leaped into the hug, wrapping himself firmly around Chacha and Miyavi, smiling wildly as he fussed.

Ju-ken choked on his wine trying not to laugh. Miyavi squeaked at the added set of arms, struggling playfully to remove himself from between the two. Chacha laughed out loud, holding tighter and cooing insanely. It felt good to laugh again, to smile at my family as they made a scene over the hyperactive boy in their midst. Ju-Ken leapt into the action, wrapping all three men in his own arms, trapping Miyavi completely.

They reminded me of children, my band leader, best friend, and bassist all surrounding the biggest child of them all. I stayed in my seat, surveying them as they slowly parted and Miyavi was allowed to return to his chair. A companionable silence fell across our little group when the waitress brought us our meals and refilled our glasses. Conversation was light, You and Chachamaru telling us what was going on at home.

“Hyde and Tetsu got into a pretty nasty fight,” Chacha was telling us. “I mean, I know they’ve had their differences in opinion over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen them come close to blows.”

“What happened?” Miyavi asked, setting his glass of water down.

“Well, Tetsu’s getting married,” Chacha began.

“He’s what?!” Miyavi squealed.

You laughed and slapped Miyavi on the arm.

“Let him finish,” he chided. “You can fan girl later.”

Chacha snorted.

“Anyway, Tetsu’s getting married later on this year, and they’ve decided on a western type wedding. Hyde got miffed because Tetsu asked Ken to be his best man.”

Miyavi looked confused.

“Tetsu and Ken grew up together,” I explained. “They went to school together, even though Tetsu was a year or so behind Ken.”

“So when Hyde was bypassed on the whole best man gig, he promptly forgot that bit of information and went completely off the hinge,” Chacha finished.

Miyavi nodded, staring down at the table top.

“You alright?” I leaned over to whisper, laying a soothing hand on his leg.

“I’m fine,” he returned, trying to smile at me.

I didn’t believe him, but I let the matter lay. I knew that he’d open up about what was bothering him later, when we were alone. Keeping my hand on his leg, I went back to the conversation.

“Oh yah, Ren called,” You said suddenly, setting his empty wine glass down.

“Did he?” I asked, a little surprised that my former bassist would call out of the blue.

“Yah, he did. He said he had one of his ‘feelings’ again.”

I nodded, well aware of Ren’s “feelings” and where they tended to lead.

“So I suppose that he wanted to make sure that everyone was alive?”

“That’s about the gist of it.”

“And?”

“I don’t think he believed me when I told him that everything was alright.”

Miyavi was looking at me oddly, but I suddenly couldn’t look at him. Everyone knew that Ren had left my band, but they didn’t know exactly why. LiN Clover was only part of the reason. I felt Miyavi’s hand slip into mine and I gave it a short reassuring squeeze, forcing myself to look at him again. That was the past. No need in dwelling on it.

“So, who’s up for some dancing?” Ju-Ken suddenly asked, breaking the awkward moment.

 

 Miyavi refrained from drinking with us, settling instead on a glass of Coke. I could tell by that alone that something was definitely wrong, but he was so intent on his conversation with You, I saw no real need to bother him. What was worse, though, was that when we returned to the hotel not long before dawn, he insisted on returning to his own suite alone.

“Don’t worry, Gackt,” he whispered in my ear, sliding his arms around me and holding me tightly. “I just need a few hours alone, that’s all. It has nothing to do with you. I swear.”

I still didn’t believe him, but what choice did I have? There was something terribly wrong, but before I could formulate a way to voice myself, he had already vanished down the hall and into his room. It wasn’t until I was in my own room, showered, and crawling into bed that I realized what he’d called me. Gackt. Not Gaku, as I had grown accustomed to hearing.

Hours later, we emerged in time to head to the studio. Miyavi held my hand on the ride down in the elevator, smiling at me and giving me a quick kiss before the doors opened on the lobby. As he let go and exited before me, I tried to tell myself that the only problem was with my overactive imagination. Miyavi seemed to be back to his usual self, even going so far as to nearly jump into Chachamaru’s arms when we met them outside the hotel.

We walked the few blocks to the studio, You and Miyavi setting off ahead of us, leaving me to walk with Ju-Ken and Chacha.

“Thick as thieves,” Chacha remarked, nudging me and pointing at my best friend and lover ahead of us. “Makes me wonder what they’re up to.”

“No good, most likely,” Ju-Ken added from my other side, peering at me from beneath a ball cap. “Knowing those two, at least.”

I kept quiet, glad when we reached the studio building and parted company with Chachamaru and You. We followed Miyavi into the S.K.I.N. studio and stopped short.

“Miyavi!” Yoshiki called, smiling broadly. “Have you ever played the shamisen?”

XXI. Gackt: As if That Wasn’t Enough

 

When Miyavi flew through the door, tears already forming in his eyes, it took all Sugizo had to keep me from rushing in to confront Yoshiki.

“No, Gackt,” he said calmly in my ear, restraining me by wrapping his arms around my chest and shoulders. “No. Stop. Think about this. Calm down, you won’t do Miyavi any good like this.”

Realizing the futility of my situation, I calmed down. Sugizo let me go, moving around in front of me to smooth the sleeves of my jacket.

“Let me go see Yoshiki,” he said smoothly. “You just go get your boyfriend.”

When I made no move toward the studio, Sugizo nodded over to Ju-Ken. My bassist calmly took my arm and started leading me toward the door. Once on the street, Miyavi was no where in sight.

“I’m the last person he needs to see at this moment,” I said, halting our progress. “Ju-Ken, could you-?”

“Sure, boss. I’ll find him.”

A quick smile and Ju-Ken was gone up the street. I followed at a slower pace, still torn between taking care of my lover and turning back to the studio to pound Yoshiki into the wall. Sugizo was right, though. Taking my anger out on our band leader would do no good for anyone.

I entered the hotel lobby just as Ju-Ken stepped out of an elevator. Spotting me, he crossed the marble floor and gripped my arm. Silently, he led me into the empty dining room to a small table in a secluded corner. We sat quietly for a few minutes before he spoke.

“Whatever Yoshiki said to Miyavi has him really torn up,” Ju-Ken said softly, staring at the tabletop. “It’s been compounding for the past two weeks, but he’s held it in for far too long. There’s a lot of anger in that kid, boss. A lot of anger, and a hell of a lot more sadness.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small plastic card.

“Here,” he said, looking me square in the face. “He doesn’t realize I took it with me.”

Ju-Ken tossed the keycard onto the table in front of me and stood up.

“Robot and Cha will be back tomorrow. I’ll get them, so don’t worry about it. We’ll come around to see you tomorrow night. Good night, boss.”

Ju-Ken left me staring at him, absolutely bewildered by his behavior, but respecting him all the more for it. My bassist didn’t realize before then that sometimes you had to take the reigns on me and direct me where I needed to go. Between Sugizo and Ju-Ken, something was saved.

Snatching the card off of the table, I crossed to the elevators, trying to be cool about it where I wanted to run. The ride up to our floor took too long and I resorted to tapping my fingers idly on my arms. I stepped off in our hall and went straight to Miyavi’s door.

Letting myself inside, I listened for any sound of his presence. I could hear the shower running through the open bedroom door, along with the soft sound of crying. Slipping out of my shoes, I made my silent way to the bathroom and stepped inside.

My heart wrenched when I saw Miyavi’s silhouette through the stall door. He was huddled against the wall, his fists in his hair, his shoulders shaking as the water cascaded down his skin. Hurriedly, I stripped out of my clothing and slipped into the water behind him.

I pulled him into my arms, his back against my chest, holding him securely against me.

“I love you,” I whispered into his ear, letting his shaking body rest fully in my arms. “I love you.”

Miyavi twisted himself to face me, wrapping his arms around my chest and nuzzling into my neck. His tears mixed with the hot water that flowed over both of us, and he shook harder.

“I hate him,” he said, tightening his hold on me. “I hate him so much I could hit him. Why, Gackt? Why is he doing this to us? Why won’t he leave us alone?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I don’t know.”

“Did he go off the hinge when Diru were still under his production and it came out that Die and Shinya were going at it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what the hell is his problem?”

I had no answer for him, so I just held him. I let him cry and soothed him the only way I could. When the shaking and sobbing finally subsided, he pulled away enough so he could look me in the eye.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

I smiled softly before pulling him back to me, meeting him in a long, slow, meaningful kiss. He melted against me, and for the first time we were both made fully aware of the closeness of our bodies. He groaned, pulling out of the kiss and running his hands down my back.

“Call me crazy,” he said, nipping at my ear, “but I want you so bad right now.”

“Right here?” I whispered, kissing across his neck and shoulder.

“Right here, right now.”

He finished his sentence with a particularly sharp bite to my shoulder, causing me to gasp and wince.

“I don’t see anything stopping you,” I moaned.

Miyavi tensed for a moment before he moved. Before I could blink, I was pinned to the wall of the shower, smiling up at Miyavi as he eyed me hungrily. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he needed this, and I was more than ready to give him his release.

No matter what.

XX. Miyavi: Sundering the Heavens

 

“Miyavi, a word please?”

Seriously, would Yoshiki’s meddling never end?

I made a show of securing my guitar case properly before I turned around to face the smaller man. Instead of the normal level of anger, though, Yoshiki’s face was subdued, even a little sad.

“Of course,” I said in reply to his question. “What’s up?”

I half expected him to continue on his rampage about my relationship with Gackt, which I had grown very numb to by this point. Instead, he seemed resigned, withdrawn. Even a little defeated.

“There’s really nothing I can do to stop the two of you, is there?” he asked.

Confused though I was, I held my composure.

“I don’t think so, no.”

“You don’t understand the gravity of my position here.”

I was shocked by the pleading sound his voice took on.

“What position, Yoshiki?”

“There are four reputations riding on this one dream, this one act. For this band to work, all four of us have to understand that there are things that can and cannot be done, lines that can and cannot be crossed.”

“Lines?” I scoffed. “Yoshiki, you want to preach at me about lines with a past as riddled with holes as yours is?”

I immediately regretted the words when Yoshiki’s face took on a slapped expression. Still, I knew that I couldn’t just let him tear me down again. Our band leader wouldn’t win that easily.

“Miyavi,” he went on, composing himself as if nothing had been said. “My point is that you and Gackt are going on like you don’t have a care for the rest of us. Like it doesn’t bother you that there’s a lot to lose if this gamble the two of you insist upon taking goes wrong.”

“Is that how you see love, Yoshiki?” I spat, my anger rising before I could get a handle on it. “A gamble? Something that you attempt, then shrug and walk away from when it doesn’t work out? Do you cast love like you cast dice? Is that how you see it?”

“I didn’t-,”

“I don’t care!” I yelled, losing my cool completely. “For two weeks you’ve badgered me, pushed me, and tried to convince me against something I believe in. I don’t see you wheedling at Gackt like this! What is it? Are you afraid of him? Or do you think you can bully me into submission just because I’m young and seemingly innocent to the ways of the big, bad world? News flash Yoshiki, I’m not a child. I’m not naïve. I know what I want, and I’m not going to let you get in the way of that.”

Having said my fill, I turned and fled for the door, snatching my guitar case and bag up on the way out. Gackt and Sugizo were waiting in the hall when I slammed my way through the door, but I ignored them both completely, storming out of the building into the growing twilight.

“No right!” I screamed in my head as I shouldered my bag and adjusted my grip on my guitar. “He has no right to tell me what I can do! He’s not my father.”

I walked and I raged quietly. Internally, I screamed at the injustice of the situation. I was a grown man. So was Gackt. It was our choice, our choice, what we did and whom we did it with. Yoshiki might be our band leader, he might have been the one to come up with the entire damn idea to create this so-called “super band,” but that didn’t give him ownership of our lives. It wasn’t as if Gackt and I were flaunting ourselves to the world. We kept what we did private, behind closed doors. To the public eye, I was the guitarist, he was the vocalist. No one knew, nor did anyone have to know.

Yoshiki’s fears were unfounded and stupid. He was basing his assumptions on his pride rather than his good sense, and he was causing more problems than he thought he was solving. In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder why Yoshiki was acting like a school girl who’d been rejected in favor of her best friend. There was just absolutely no reason for it. None at all. 

I was unaware of the tears streaming down my face until I tasted the salt on my lips. It had been forever since anyone had made me cry, and once I’d started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

I felt an arm slip into mine. Glancing to the side, I felt a moment’s relief when I saw that it was Ju-Ken and not Gackt. Without a word, he led me down the street. I followed him, letting the tears continue to streak my face. Ju-Ken led me silently to the hotel, past the confused doorman and the concerned concierge at the front desk, into an elevator, and up to our floor. I handed him my keycard and he led me into my suite.

We slipped out of our shoes at the door before I stepped away from his grasp to move to the windows on the other side of the room, dropping my bag and guitar on the couch.

“Miyavi?” he finally said.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“No. Thank you, Ju-Ken, but no.” I smiled sadly at him. “I just want to be alone right now. I want a long, hot shower and a long sleep.”

He nodded, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

Ju-Ken left, no doubt going to report to his boss that I had made it back to the hotel safely rather than throwing myself into traffic, as I might have been prone to doing. I was touched by their concern for me, but my mind was too clouded to dwell on their niceties for long.

Sighing, I slipped my T-shirt over my head as I aimed my steps for the bedroom. Slipping into the bathroom, I dropped the shirt and stepped out of my pants, discarding them to the side. Reaching into the shower stall, I turned the hot water up on high and added a little cold water so I didn’t burn myself. I groaned when I stepped in, the hot water rushing across my head and down my back, easing some of the tension in the muscles.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I closed my eyes, bit my lip, curled my hands into fists on either side of my face, and cried again.

XIX: Gackt: The Daunting Task of Getting Along

 

I had expected Yoshiki’s reaction. Part of me almost welcomed it. It only drew Miyavi closer to me. It made the bond we shared stronger.

Practices after our argument were tense affairs, with Yoshiki barely speaking to me, Miyavi becoming more and more timid around him, and Sugizo giving all of us confused and despairing looks. But, for the sake of the band, we all managed, somehow, to continue on in a professional manner.

Well, if you can call Yoshiki putting his fist through a snare acting “professionally.”

Yoshiki had also taken to keeping Miyavi behind to have small talks with him. Miyavi refused to tell me what they were about, but I had an idea. If the young man’s pained and irritated expressions were any indication, the conversations were about me. Yoshiki was once more meddling in my affairs and trying to make a mess of something I so desperately craved.

A week after our first night together, after an especially long and harrowing practice, complete with a meddlesome conversation with Yoshiki, I decided to let Miyavi take out some aggression. Leading him into my suite after dinner, I told him to take control.

And he did.

Miyavi’s passion raged like a wildfire that night. At first, he was nervous about taking me, but after some encouragement, his misgivings fled as he took pleasure in me. Miyavi was willing and eager, concerned with my pleasure as well as his own. But the feeling of him within me and around me was more than enough to ensure that I walked away satisfied.

Three times we made love, followed by a fourth that was nearly brutal as all of Miyavi’s fear, sadness, and anguish finally bubbled to the surface. Through his tears, he spent himself in me for the final time, taking me with him physically and emotionally. Even in the madness of his emotional dilemma, Miyavi was exquisitely beautiful, tears and all. I had never seen anyone so distraught in my entire life, aside from looking in the mirror.

It made me want to hate Yoshiki.

The next day was a rare day off, thankfully, because neither of us could have moved even if we’d wanted to.

“Gackt?”

I turned at the sound of Sugizo’s voice, aware that I had hardly touched the food in front of me.

“What?”

“I just asked if you were alright,” the guitarist said. “I mean, you agreed to come to lunch with me. Me. The guy you proclaim to hate.”

I turned away and resumed staring at the untouched sandwich lying limply on my plate. It suddenly looked very unappetizing.

“I believe in second chances,” I finally said, pushing the plate away from me in disgust.

“Second, third, tenth, two-hundredth,” Sugizo waved a hand. “What’s going on, Gackt? What the hell happened between you, Miyavi, and Yoshiki?”

“It has little, if anything, to do with Miyavi,” I muttered.

“Really?” Sugizo scoffed. “It looks like he’s on the receiving end of a Yoshiki huff as well.”

I couldn’t argue, so I let the comment hang in the air between us.

“Gackt, I know you don’t like me,” Sugizo went on softly. “And personally, I don’t think I can blame you. But, for the sake of the band…”

“Don’t,” I said. “Please.”

Sugizo looked wounded, but he let it go. For that, I was grateful.

 

Outside of meetings at the studio or Yoshiki’s house, Miyavi and I spent most of our waking hours together. We agreed that, while Yoshiki had every right to be upset over our relationship, we weren’t going to let it get in the way of our happiness.

Waking up in the morning next to my colorful young lover brought so many wonderful changes to my life. Not even Ju-Ken’s incessant teasing could dampen my spirits. We were carefree and happy, Las Angeles was our playground. We chose not to let anything stand in our way.

“Gaku?”

“Hmm?”

“Who are you staring at?”

I blinked, catching the faintest hint of teasing in Miyavi’s voice. Looking around, I came back to the reality that was the nightclub that we were currently sitting in. The heat of many bodies suddenly washed over me, renewing the layer of sweat on my exposed skin.

“No one.”

“Is she prettier than me?”

I turned my attention to the creature curled at my side, smiling. Knowing that we were in the dark, that we were in an undisturbed booth as far from the main body of action as possible, knowing that no one could see us unless they really tried, I pulled Miyavi into my arms and kissed him deeply.

Kissing Miyavi is like touching heaven. His lips, his tongue, his taste, even that damn lip ring all worked together to cloud my mind with lust and passion. I groaned as he slid his hand up my leg to rub me through the material of my leather pants. I broke away and leaned my head back against the wall.

“Well?” he whispered into my ear, rubbing harder. “Is she?”

“First of all,” I choked out, “there is no ‘she’ that I was looking at. Secondly, there isn’t a woman, or man for that matter, in here that would ever take my eyes from you. Thirdly, keep this up and I might be inclined to take you right here in this booth.”

Miyavi chuckled, but removed his hand.

“I never said I was against that,” he said, laying a kiss on my neck. “But, I want to top tonight.”

I snapped my eyes open to stare at the younger man. Miyavi had yet to demand something like that. He always seemed perfectly content to follow my lead in the bedroom. After that night he had dominated me so completely, I thought that he would ask again, sooner. Still, I was far from prepared for the confidence in his voice. It aroused me further.

“If you think you can handle it,” I shot back playfully, sliding an arm around his waist.

“I know I can handle it,” he smirked. “Come on.”

XVIII: Miyavi: Painful and Disastrous Aftermath

 

Waking the next morning brought about a whole new world of sensations. The most prominent of all being the pain.

Anyone who tells you that sex with another man is glorious, that you bask in an afterglow that radiates warmth and comfort forever is wrong. Dead wrong. Everything from my waist down felt like it was on fire. Even moving my toes seemed to send shock waves of pain through the rest of my body.

But… I didn’t mind this pain. Because when I was finally able to roll over, I came face to face with the most beautiful sight in the world.

Gackt. Sleeping peacefully on his stomach.

Lifting myself slightly, I looked across his body to the clock on the bedside table and read that it was only seven thirty. Biting back a groan, I moved closer to Gackt and curled up, drawing his warmth into my body. His arm wrapped around me again, and I saw him smile in his sleep as I settled more firmly into his grip.

The next time I woke up, there was a loud, insistent pounding on the door. Gackt shifted, irritation in the sigh that emanated from him as he slipped from the bed and into his pants.

“No, I’ll go,” he said softly when I made to get up. “Stay put.”

He smiled at me for a second before heading out to answer the pounding on the door.

“Gackt, what-?”

I barely had time to register Ju-Ken’s voice before there was a loud yell, a sharp cry, and a thudding sound. My painful body being momentarily forgotten, I scrambled from the bed and into a pair of sweatpants, bolting for the door.

Gripping the door frame, I took a quick look around. Ju-Ken was hovering in the doorway between hall and suite, confusion, anger, and sadness vying for real estate on his face. In front of him was Yoshiki, his small frame seeming larger as he was pulled to his full height, eyes flashing. He was glaring down at Gackt, who was on the floor next to the couch.

“I told you to fix it!” Yoshiki yelled. “Not fuck him!”

“What the hell?” I yelled, launching myself into the room and moving to Gackt’s side. “What’s going on here?”

“I should have known,” Yoshiki snarled, completely ignoring me as I helped Gackt to his feet. “What the hell kind of game are you playing, Gackt? Are you trying to destroy us before we’ve even had a chance to begin?”

Gackt stared at the drummer evenly, rubbing a spot on his chest that was already starting to bruise lightly. My own anger flared but Gackt’s light squeeze on my hand held me back. I looked at him, waiting for him to make his move.

“Yes, you told me to fix it,” Gackt said calmly. “And I have. Just like you told me to do.”

“I also told you that you weren’t to seduce him,” Yoshiki growled. “What the fuck is your problem, Gackt?”

I felt a tugging on my arm. Ju-Ken had slipped into the suite and was trying to draw me away. His eyes kept darting back and forth between the two men, fear becoming more and more evident in my friend’s eyes. A glance at Gackt, his slight, almost imperceptible nod at me, and I allowed Ju-Ken to draw me away. I was reluctant to leave, but the battle of wills that was taking place in the living room of my suite was likely to blow up soon. Away was safest.

Ju-Ken led me back into the bedroom, leaving the door open, and forced me to sit on the bed. I suppose I must have looked shocked or scared, because he sat next to me, slipping am arm around my waist and laying his head on my shoulder.

“What have I done?” I asked moments later, cringing as the voices rose in the other room.

“Nothing,” Ju-Ken said simply. “Nothing at all.”

“Then what the hell is going on out there?”

“Two strong willed men, both of whom have an interest in you and your future, are going head-to-head in a battle of words. One of those ‘my guns are bigger than yours’ kind of things, you could say.”

Despite everything, I laughed, settling against Ju-Ken, thankful for his comfort.

“Damn it, Gackt! What about ‘don’t do it’ don’t you understand?”

“The fact that you think you can tell me what I can and cannot do. That’s what I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to see him ruined?”

“Yoshiki, he is not me, and I am not Mana! This is not Malice Mizer, and I will not destroy him!”

A thick and heavy silence fell across the suite. Unraveling myself from Ju-Ken’s grip, I made my painful way back to the door. Gackt hadn’t moved an inch from where I’d left him. He stood resolutely, arms crossed, as he stared at Yoshiki. Neither man moved, none of us breathed.

“Do you think,” Yoshiki ground out through gritted teeth, “that that’s what this is about? That I’m afraid your past will override your good intentions where Miyavi is concerned? Because, my friend, that’s only part of the problem.”

For a split second, Gackt looked confused.

“What?”

Yoshiki turned on his heel and left. Moments later, Gackt deflated, leaning heavily on the couch and rubbing the bruise on his chest.

“Man, boss, I’m sorry,” Ju-Ken said, moving quickly to Gackt’s side. “He moved faster than I could react to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Gackt soothed, offering a small smile to Ju-Ken as he fussed. “Don’t worry about it. We just won’t tell Chachamaru about it, and we’ll both live.”

Ju-Ken chuckled.

“Deal.”

“I’m glad you two can laugh about this,” I called crossly from the bedroom door. “What the hell just happened?”

Gackt came to me and wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him, watching Ju-Ken smile over Gackt’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gackt said, pulling back to look at me. “It’s an old fight between Yoshiki and myself.”

I nodded, not quite believing him, but too tired to fight him. Ju-Ken cleared his throat, drawing our attention.

“What is it, Ju-Ken?” Gackt asked, grinning cheekily at his bassist.

“The reason we came up here,” Ju-Ken replied. “I thought you’d be interested to know.”

“Know what?”

“The band. You’re slated to play the Anime Expo in Long Beach. It’s been finalized. You’ve got your first venue.”

XVII. Gackt: Inked Lines (2)

 

What about Miyavi drove me wild? What about him put me so near the edge of my own sanity that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe? Why did I love him so damn much when I knew, deep in my heart, that we were on borrowed time?

Keeping all of these things in mind, I kept myself by a bare thread of restraint, calmly and soothingly working Miyavi into a frenzy of hormones and passion. I worshiped him with my lips, my tongue, my fingers. I gave every ounce of myself into his preparation, denying my own being the very thing I so badly craved.

I barely restrained my surprise when Miyavi motioned me to the items I would need if we were to continue. I can’t imagine what we would have done if I had had to go into my own room to retrieve mine. Returning to the beautiful body stretched upon the bed, I made a mental note to thank Aoi and Uruha the next time I saw them, then decided to throw in a night out for them, my treat.

All thoughts of the two GazettE guitarists were shoved from my mind by the feeling of Miyavi’s tongue as it traced its way across the head of my erection. Even though I would have loved nothing more than to let him continue what he was doing, to push myself past those supple lips and lose myself in his warmth, I had to continue to deny myself a little longer.

Pushing Miyavi away from me, even for a brief moment, took more strength than I thought that I possessed.

I could tell that he was ready, eager, his body flushed from head to toe with excitement. Clamping down on my desire once more, I took another long taste of my lover.

From the first taste I’d had of him, the moment I felt Miyavi slip past my lips, his length hard and supple against my tongue, I knew that I was addicted. Of all the lovers I’d taken to my bed, men and women alike, Miyavi outstripped them all. He was one and unique, and now that I had him, I couldn’t get enough. His skin bore the spicy flavor that was a mix of sweat, sex, and something uniquely Miyavi. Miyavi was a drug, one stronger and more potent than anything in the world. One taste of him, one touch, one look, and everything in the world was turned upside down.

Slipping a finger into his body sent a shiver straight through me. He was perfect, he was warm, and above all, he was tight. It had been so long since I’d been with a first time, I almost lost control of myself. But the knowledge that Miyavi trusted me, that he was placing himself in my hands, held me at bay.

An eternity passed, and I was in him, buried in Miyavi’s body in such a way that I felt complete for the first time in years. The feeling of his legs wrapping around me, of sliding another inch inside him, was heaven.

“For all that’s good, Gackt, please, fuck me now.”

I needed no other encouragement. Pulling my hips back so that only the tip of my erection was secure within him, I surged back in. Miyavi’s cry and the way he arched his back told me that I was right. Pulling back once more, I thrust forward, searching, wanting to find the place I knew was there that would make him come completely undone.

“Ah fuck!” he yelled again, his nails digging into my back, most surely leaving angry red lines behind. “Gaku please!”

I straightened enough to reposition his legs slightly, drawing his knees closer to his stomach, before pivoting forward again. I knew I found what I was looking for then, because his entire upper body surged off of the bed, his mouth flying open in a silent scream. As I jerked backward, he collapsed back, panting, sweat pouring from his body in sheets.

Again and again, I surged into Miyavi, each time angling my thrusts to meet his prostate, pushing him further toward the edge, away from the safety of his sanity. His cries and moans and pleading eyes gave me the permission I needed to finally let myself free of my mental restraints, letting me give all of myself into our pleasure.

Suddenly, I stopped, pulling out and away. He cried out, his voice anguished.

“Gaku, what-?”

“Over,” I gasped. “Roll over.”

The pained expression left his face as he complied, understanding taking the place of sadness. I stared into his eyes as he stared over his shoulder, watching me remove the condom and toss it aside.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, moving behind him and placing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“With my life,” he replied breathlessly, rocking back against me as I positioned myself once more.

I let him move, let him take me back into his body, moaning loudly at the feeling of his flesh against mine, glad that he hadn’t panicked when I removed the one thing that kept us completely separated. When I was almost within him again, I pistoned forward sharply, filling him completely. He let out a sharp cry, burying his face in a pillow.

“Ah, Miya,” I panted, thrusting shallowly, brushing against his prostate lightly. “Amazing.”

I gathered him into my arms, pulling him upright, bringing his back flush against my chest so we both knelt on the bed. He groaned at the angle change, pushing down and back against me. Reaching around, he scraped his nails against my hips as I began thrusting again, my hands splayed across his chest in an effort to keep him upright.

In my mind’s eye, I could almost imagine what it would look like if there were a mirror in front of us. What we would look like at that moment. His tattooed body covered in sweat, glistening and undulating in his pleasure. His head leaned back on my shoulder, hair wild and untamed, matching the look that was hiding behind his closed eyes. His long legs parted slightly where he rested on his knees, his swollen and needy erection begging for attention.

And behind him, nearly as wild and even more unbridled, me. Gripping him, pulling him so close that some form of strange osmosis might cause us to become one. My hips thrusting against him, pushing into him with barely restrained passion. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, pulling a portion of his flesh into my mouth, marking him. He groaned, tilting his head to allow me better access.

Panting with effort, I slid one hand down, caressing his stomach tenderly before wrapping my fingers around his hard member. He cried out again as new sensations swept his oversensitized body, bucking forward into my hand.

“Damn Gackt,” he moaned. “Damn it, fuck you, oh hell!”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that poured out as I thrust upward, causing him to slip from my grasp and back onto all fours. I followed him down, pumping him in time to my thrusts.

He was close, I could tell. His muscles were clenching and unclenching around me, driving me insane with want of release, and his member was twitching in my hand, the vein on the underside thumping with a heavy pulse. He was working me to the edge and I couldn’t wait to fall.

“Miyavi,” I said harshly, my voice thready and weak, “baby, cum for me.”

I shifted again, angling perfectly to find his prostate again, tapping it hard, fast. The scream that was ripped from my lovers’ throat was loud, clear, un-muffled, and beautiful. I felt his release as it coated my fingers and palm, felt him tighten almost painfully around me. That was all it took, and I added my own scream to the air, releasing myself within Miyavi.

We collapsed onto the bed, panting, wheezing, fighting for the breath that we had spent in our passion. I rolled onto my side, taking Miyavi with me as I was unwilling to remove myself from him yet. He didn’t complain, but curled himself against me, whimpering as my slowly softening member shifted within him.

“Are you alright?” I whispered once we were both breathing somewhat normally.

“I’m better than alright,” he said, linking his fingers with mine. “I’m fantastic.”

I leaned up and over, capturing his lips in a slow, idle kiss. While I had him distracted, I removed myself from him, feeling him tense slightly and barely suppressing my own moan of sadness. Pulling back, I tucked him securely to my side, petting his hip and thigh until he relaxed, his body worn beyond anything I’m sure he’d ever imagined.

Once Miyavi was asleep, I slipped from his embrace long enough to take an extra blanket from the closet. In my absence, he’d rolled over and curled into a ball, shivering slightly. Spreading the blanket across him, I slid beneath it next to him. Immediately, he curled into my arms, whispering softly and incoherently in his sleep.

Content, spent, warm, and happy, I let myself follow my lover into dreams.

XVI. Miyavi: Inked Lines (1)

 

I still couldn’t tell you what possessed me to do what I did. Even now, I still think that I was out of my mind. Oddly, the only thing I could think the entire time I led Gackt into the bedroom of my suite was the fact that nearly every single one of my horny teenage fantasies was about to come true.

Why the hell was I so nervous?

Gackt pulled me to a stop a few feet from the bed and, without turning me or facing me, he pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. He ran smooth fingers down the lines of my sutra, brushing strands of my hair aside to kiss this character or that softly. I bit my lip to stave off the moan that was growing in my throat.

Too soon, he was pulling away. I heard the rustling of fabric and from my peripheral vision I watched his shirt join mine on the floor. Unable to resist, I turned and faced him, my eyes drinking in the sight of his naked torso greedily.

He smiled at my expression, and I knew that I was slack jawed, but I didn’t care. Giving a damn was the farthest thing from my mind. Instead of thinking, I pulled Gackt to me, letting out a pleasured sigh as our skin met. I felt him skim his lips across my jaw, down my neck, and I jumped when he began tracing my “Un-Do” tattoo with his tongue.

“Ah, Gaku…”

He pushed me back gently, directing me to the bed, his lips and tongue still playing along my tattoos teasingly. I let myself be led, clinging to the man before me, my fingers wandering over every piece of bare flesh I could find. Before I could think or breathe, I was stretched out across my bed, my head somehow finding their way onto the pillows at the head.

 Gackt moved toward me with feline grace, his eyes barely hiding the pure, raw lust that was emanating between us. On hands and knees, he crawled toward me, a slow smile curving his lips gracefully. He stopped long enough to plant a kiss on my stomach, tracing his tongue just beneath my “Don’t hesitate & GO” tattoo. Leaning up, he read it and smiled, a small chuckle escaping his throat.

“Interesting,” he whispered.

I shrugged at him, trying to smile but I was too hot, too full of want to manage much more than a whimper. His smile grew as he crawled higher, hovering over me, denying me the contact I so desperately craved.

“Please?” I whispered, willing my arms to move, to reach up and claim him.

They adamantly refused to obey.

“Please what?”

I whined at the growl in his voice, and I realized that he wanted to play with me, to make me open up to my wants and needs.

“Touch me.”

With a sigh, he lowered himself to me again, blowing me completely away with another of his kisses, his left hand trailing down my side lightly, the touch feather light. Back up, his hand traveled, over to the center of my chest and down again, coming to rest on the waistband of my pants. With practiced ease, he popped the button free and ran the zipper down. I sighed into our kiss as the pressure on my groin eased slightly, though I was far from comfortable.

I was taken by complete surprise when his hand dipped into my pants and found me, hard and willing. Snatching my lips from his, I let out a sharp, keening wail of passion, bringing another smile to his beautifully full lips. Panting, I dug my fingers into the bedspread beneath me, pushing into that hand, begging with my moans and my body for more, more, more.

Gackt wasted no time, sliding back down my body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans and tugging. I had enough presence of mind to lift my hips to aid in their removal, groaning as I was finally freed from my tight restraints. I cracked open my eyes when he didn’t return to me.

“What’s wrong?” I managed to choke out, gazing at him where he knelt at the end of the bed, staring.

“Nothing,” he forced out, his gaze raking my body from top to bottom. “It’s just… I never thought… Miya, you’re beautiful.”

I know I blushed. I shook my head and lifted my hands to my face. Moments later Gackt was there, tugging my hands away, holding them tightly in his own.

“You are,” he whispered, leaning down and suckling my earlobe gently around my earrings. “You are; you are so very, very beautiful. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

His hands left mine and I felt him move back to the lower end of the bed. My legs were nudged gently apart and I felt him settle between them. Opening my eyes again, I watched as he stared down at my erection, as if he was contemplating the best plan of action. But, being the straightforward man that he is, he settled on the most direct approach.

I didn’t even try to bite back the yell that erupted from me when I felt his hand and his lips wrap around me simultaneously. In a movement that sent my mind on permanent vacation, he had devoured me from top to bottom, his tongue moving languidly over and over my head. His hands on my hips were all that kept me from thrusting up and into that warm mouth, from pushing myself to orgasm on his sinful tongue.

 I groaned when he lifted his head once more, whining low in the back of my throat.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, running a hand down my thigh. “I was only wondering if you had anything I can use.”

“Top drawer,” I answered immediately, pointing a shaking hand toward the dresser.

Gackt raised his eyebrow at me as he slid from the bed and moved quietly across the room.

“It’s not my fault,” I defended when he opened the drawer and smirked. “Uruha and Aoi thought they were being cute. I swear, those two fuck bunnies are twisted.”

Gackt chuckled as he brought a small tube of lube and a box of condoms back to the bed. Setting them down, he began the task of removing his own pants.

“Wait,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “I want to do it.”

He dropped his hands to his sides as I sat up and crawled across the bed. Chewing my lip, I brushed my fingertips lightly across the bulge in his leather pants that indicated his current state of arousal. His hiss of pleasure encouraged me, and I set about untying the strings that held them closed, drawing each one slowly, teasingly so my fingertips kept a constant teasing pressure against him.

One of his hands slid into my hair as I finally pulled the last bit of lace free. Beneath lay a zipper which slid down with ease beneath my fingers. Sliding my hands into the waistband, I slowly pushed them down. I smiled brightly and paused, looking up at him.

“Is this normal?” I teased, indicating his lack of undergarments.

He shrugged, his eyes glazed with lust. I continued pushing the leather garment until he was able to step out of them and kick them aside. Leaning back up, I was met with the sight of his erection, tantalizing and already leaking. Grinning slyly, I reached out with my tongue and licked the tip, gathering his taste onto my tongue, groaning with him.

“No,” he said, gripping my shoulders and pushing me back onto the bed. “Not this time.”

I acquiesced, moving back to lie against the pillows once more as he resettled himself between my knees. He took the lube into his hand, squeezing a small amount into his palm, then set it aside again, still within reach. At his slight nudge, I brought my knees up as he settled back onto his elbows.

Lathering the lube over his fingers, Gackt ran his tongue up the underside of my member, once more rendering me thoughtless with pleasure. As his mouth moved up and down and around my flesh, I completely forgot his hands until I felt the first finger slide inside my body.

“Ah! Gaku!”

“It’s alright,” he soothed, moving his lips across my tip, his free hand across my stomach. “Relax.”

Relax? Relax? Was he fucking nuts?

The initial pain faded rather quickly as he slowly moved the single finger in and out, twisting slightly, as he resumed his painfully slow torture of my lower regions. When the second finger was added, my back arched completely off of the bed, my fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sweat soaked bedspread. The breath was completely stolen from me as a third finger was quickly added, scissoring and twisting deep inside as he pulled every inch of my hardened flesh into his talented mouth.

“Ah fuck!” I managed to yell, my voice taking on new octaves in my pleasure.

There was a light popping noise and the warm wetness was suddenly gone from my body, as were the talented, teasing fingers. Slumping back onto the bed, fighting just to breathe, I pried my eyes open as Gackt sat back. I could feel him trembling as he panted, his eyes still devouring me even if his mouth and hands weren’t.

“Please,” I whispered again, reaching a shaking hand for him.

I watched, mesmerized, as he took one of the condoms from the box, throwing it somewhere across the room, and began to prepare himself. His hands shook, but he was able to tear the foil open and remove the small piece of latex from the package. He groaned when his fingers came into contact with his neglected hardness, and I could tell that he was trying desperately hard not to touch himself too much lest this little tryst be over before it began.

“Now you’re the one who’s fucking beautiful,” I breathed, watching the display with wide eyes.

Our eyes met as he lathered lube onto himself, whimpering at the light touches. I felt my entire body twitch as he thrust lightly into his own hand, his eyes sliding closed.

“Gaku?”

He seemed to suddenly remember that I was there, that I was waiting for him to finish what he had started. A light blush crept into his cheeks as he crawled forward once more, laying a sizzling kiss on my lips. His hands slid behind my knees and drew them up higher, one hand dipping between us to guide himself.

“I can’t promise there will be no pain,” he whispered into my ear. “But I’ll do my best to make it the greatest thing you’ve ever felt.”

I nodded, willing my quaking body to relax. Still, all the relaxing in the world did no good when the first wave of pain shocked my body. I clutched at him, biting hard on my lower lip to stop the scream that wormed its way into my throat. Gackt pushed, rocking his hips in shallow thrusts, urging my body to accept him. When he slipped past my first barrier, I gave up on trying to contain it, and let out that scream. Luckily, I was pressed into Gackt’s shoulder, so my cry was muffled.

As he inched into my body, I felt more and more of my muscles stretching and tearing, and I could do little to stop the tears that leapt to my eyes and fell, cascading into my hair. Gackt nudged me into another kiss, one hand propping him above me, the other running soothing waves across my side, hip and leg.

“Miyavi…” he hissed, leaning his forehead against my shoulder.

Finally, finally, he stopped, finally he was in me, finally I could stop crying. Finally, I could feel him. He hovered over me, his eyes wide as he stared down at me, trembling, waiting. The pain was ebbing, quickly fading to a dull throb as my body adjusted to his intrusion, to his size and length.

“For all that’s good, Gackt, please,” I groaned, sliding my legs around his waist and hissing as he gained a few more centimeters within me, “fuck me now.”

XV. Gackt: From the Top, Square One

 

Even though we seemed to have made up, I knew that I was on tedious ground with Miyavi. When he hadn’t returned my sentiment when I expressed my true feelings, I knew that he hadn’t completely forgiven me. I understood why, and I was willing to work at it, willing to wait until the rift between us had been mended.

If for no other reason than the kid was worth waiting for.

I ended up buying three of the zoo figurines for him and an interestingly shaped necklace for myself at the silver store. He practically bounced all the way back to the hotel, and I was reminded of an over-energized, sugar-rushed three year old. But, to see him smile at me again was worth it.

Entering the hotel once more, I felt a slight pang at the thought that our afternoon together was ending. We rode the elevator up in silence, he admiring his silver giraffe with a childlike abandon. At one point, he turned to me and made it give me a kiss on the cheek, complete with sound affects. “Mwah!” Even in my dark cloud, I couldn’t help but smile.

He started down the hall before me, leaving me to move slowly, watching him. I could tell he was happier than he had been recently, that some of his former spunk had returned, but I was still at a loss as to how to proceed with him. I didn’t want to hurt him again, but I didn’t want to let him go either. If nothing else, things had only gotten more confusing in our making up than they had been before.

“Gackt?”

Miyavi was standing in the open doorway of his suite, looking back at me. He held his bag loosely in one hand, the other propping the door wide as he fidgeted from foot to foot.

“Would you like to come over for a while?” he asked, turning shy on me.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”

I wasn’t taking any chances. He chewed on his lip, his eyes wide as he looked back at me. I could tell he was nervous, that he was steeling himself against doubt.

“I’m sure.”

Nodding, I opened my door enough to set my bag on the phone table just inside, then pulled the door closed and locked it once more. He held the door open so I could go in first, then slipped in past me, discarding his shoes quickly and moving further into the sitting room. I leaned against the wall to remove my boots, quickly scanning the generally messy room.

“Sorry,” he said, setting his bag on the couch. “I wasn’t expecting to ask you over.”

I smiled, moving into the sitting room.

“It’s no problem. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled back, sliding his arms around me when I got close enough. I sighed, content to hold him for a while.

For a while, everything melted away. All the pain of the past two weeks, all of the frustration and sleepless nights seemed insignificant because I had him in my arms again. I smiled to myself, knowing that all of my insides were turning to mush, that my brain was going well out of its way to find something romantic to say or do, that I was stepping well out of my normal range of known emotions, and that maybe, just maybe, I was letting myself be free to just feel.

“Gackt?” Miyavi’s soft voice dragged me back into the present moment.

“What?”

“You’re crying. Why are you crying?”

At first, I wasn’t sure I believed him, but when he raised a hand to wipe the tear track from my face, I felt them.

“I think I’m just scared,” I said, tightening my grip on him slightly.

“That’s normal in any relationship,” he returned, smirking lightly, teasingly, at me. “But you don’t have to be.”

I pulled him down and kissed him, pouring everything I had, all that I could dig up from the bottom of my heart and soul, into it. I wanted him to feel exactly how I felt, because words weren’t sufficient. Words would never be enough with Miyavi.

I felt him tremble against me, felt him press himself tighter to me, and we clung to one another like drowning men, holding tight to a single slipping lifeline. When we finally broke apart, feeding oxygen starved lungs with precious air, he sighed, the sound somewhat wistful.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, twining a piece of his hair between my fingers.

“Nothing,” he breathed. “Nothing at all is wrong.”

I reached for his hand, twining his fingers into my own, and brought them to my lips, kissing each inked finger tenderly. He smiled, sliding his free hand up to my neck, rubbing lightly just beneath my hair.

“It’s been a lifetime,” I said, looking up at him, “since I’ve been able to feel so close to someone. Since I’ve been able to really feel my own heartbeat. I have you to thank, Miya, I really do. Because I can love you.”

He smiled wider at that, tightening his hand in mine.

“I love you, too, Gackt,” he whispered before diving back down and reclaiming me in another searing kiss.

He suddenly surged forward, pressing his entire body against me. In that brief moment of contact, I felt his urgency, his need. He opened his mouth willingly, battling me for dominance in our kiss. I growled low in my throat, pulling his body flush against mine, letting him feel that I, too, needed him.

Gasping, he pulled back, his hips thrusting against mine lightly. His entire face was flushed and a light sweat had broken across his forehead and neck. Standing there, wrapped in my arms, his limbs dangling loosely about me, lips parted… I wanted nothing more than to ravish him, claim him, cherish him, bring him so high into euphoria he’d never want to come down.

“Gaku…” he whispered.

“Can I?”

I didn’t have to explain, didn’t have to expand on the question. The two simple words, whispered with love, care, and determination, were all that was needed for us. He smiled, his features softening as a wild lust crept into his eyes, making my heart hammer and my blood boil.

Nodding, Miyavi took my hand in his once more, and led me to his bedroom.

XIV. Miyavi: Getting Over It and Taking the Next Step

 

I moved slowly back into my suite, closing the door and making sure it was locked. Across the living area, turning off the TV as I went. Into my room to change my shirt and put on some shoes. Back to the front door, checking for my key.

At Gackt’s door, I hesitated. I couldn’t tell why.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door was already being pulled open. And he was there. I was frozen for a moment, caught by his gaze, before I registered what was different.

His eyes were clear. Brown.

I reached out a hand and he took it, almost dragging me into the suite, into his arms. We met in a kiss so passionate that it was almost painful. I found myself pressed against the door as it was closed, with Gackt’s hands roving across me, pinning me to the hard wood. I touched and felt all of him that I could find, pressing him against me in our need.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we broke apart, he collapsing against me, panting. His forehead was against my neck, his breath ghosting across my chest. I lay my head back against the door, my eyes closed. Slowly, he moved away, taking my hand and leading me to the couch.

We sat a few feet apart, unable to look at one another, until we were finally able to breathe again.

“Miya,” he began softly, “when I canceled our dates, it had nothing to do with you. I had some things to attend to back home, with JOB. I didn’t cancel because I wanted to.”

“I know,” I said softly, turning to face him. “I know. And I don’t know why I got so upset. I guess I just thought… that you and I…”

He slid closer to me, resting his hand against my cheek. I leaned instinctively into his touch.

“You mean so much to me,” he whispered. “So very much. And to know I hurt you… it hurt me deep inside, badly. I never wanted… I never want to make you feel like you mean so little to me that I could toss you aside. I never could.”

“Say it,” I half whispered, desperation creeping into my heart. “Please. Say what you mean.”

“Miyavi, I love you. And I’m sorry.”

He kissed the tears that were forming in my eyes, catching them before they could fall. I melted into his arms, wrapping myself around his chest and burying my face in his shoulder. His fingers caressed the lines of the sutra running down my back, soothing my worry away once and for all.

I don’t know how long we sat like that, just holding one another, but I felt cold the instant he began to pull away from me.

“Why don’t we go out?” he said. “We have the whole day to do absolutely nothing. Why don’t you and I go find something to entertain ourselves with?”

“That sounds good. But, I’d have to go put on something less… exaggerated,” I said, smiling.

We both looked down at my wardrobe. Green and yellow pants and a purple peace sign T-shirt. Not exactly the best thing if we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. He chuckled, plucking at the hem of my shirt.

“Good idea. I’ll change myself.”

“Going to wear leather for me?” I joked.

“If you want me to.”

“Now see, that won’t work. I lost the bet. So I’m in no place to ask you to do anything.”

A playful glint entered his eyes.

“True. You backed out the last few days, so I suppose I did win.”

I laughed, knowing that I was caught and not caring.

“So it’s me who has to wear what you decide.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“I’ll let it go this time,” he said finally. “I’ll think of something later. Right now, I’m getting cabin fever.”

I got to my feet.

“I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I swept out the door at a near run, leaving him on the couch with the silliest smile I’ve ever seen on anyone. Back in my room, I stopped. We’d made up, yes, but what was next? What was the next step in a relationship like ours?

I slipped into a less colorful outfit, including a light jacket to cover my arms against recognition, and slipped back out the door. Gackt was waiting for me in the hall, wearing a pair of black leather pants. I couldn’t stifle my giggle.

“Be glad you don’t want kids,” I smirked, sliding up next to him.

He chuckled, pulling me in for a quick kiss before heading toward the elevator.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said once the elevator doors closed and we began to descend toward the lobby. “They’re quite comfortable.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Gackt shrugged, smiling at me from behind his dark sunglasses. I had the feeling his eyes were blue again. The elevator made three stops on the way down, so by the time we reached the lobby, we hadn’t been able to say much to each other.

The streets were crowded when we stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Walk or ride?” Gackt asked, watching a taxi fly past the curb.

“Walk, if you’re up for it,” I returned, watching the same cab round a corner and vanish out of sight against a yellow traffic light. “I prefer it.”

He nodded and we set out. I was drawn to many of the store windows, leaving Gackt to meander behind me, laughing. I somehow managed to drag him into a pet store and plop a squishy yellow Labrador puppy into his arms while I played with two black and white kittens.

“He likes you,” I remarked, trying very hard not to laugh as the puppy kept trying to chew on Gackt’s ear.

“So that’s what this is about?” he said, smiling as he put the puppy back into its box. “I’m sorry, Mei and Belle are enough for me to handle.”

We left the pet store moments later, him practically dragging me away from the rabbits in the window. We had a quiet lunch in a small diner a few blocks from the hotel, narrowly escaping a few teenage girls who suddenly recognized us through the window. Once back outside, and safe, I looked around.

“Hey!” I cried, recognizing the area. “There’s this really great silver shop a few stores down! They have the cutest little figurine zoo! Come on, you’ll love it!”

Grabbing Gackt’s hand, I led him down the street, enjoying the sound of his laughter.

XIII. Gackt: Nightmares and Losing Battles

 

Miyavi spent the last four days of our wager ignoring me completely. You ended up spending quite a few nights after that with me, as my depression sprang up and brought the nightmares back into play. I did my best not to cry, but often times lost that battle, curling into my best friends arms and sobbing like a child.

Once more, I had made a mess of things.

The only time I could get the colorful object of my affection to even look at me was during our band meetings, and even then his eyes were distant, almost afraid, when they fell on me. He stayed close to his suite or with Sugizo most of the time, politely declining my offers to go out for food or drinks. I think that Yoshiki began to notice a real change in Miyavi’s behavior, because our drummer was constantly casting odd looks between us.

“Gackt, a word, please?”

I stopped moving, watching as Miyavi and Sugizo slipped out the door at the end of a practice session a week later, the younger man smiling happily at his fellow guitarist. Turning, I met Yoshiki’s gaze.

“Of course.”

“What’s going on?” he asked pointedly, his eyes flickering to the door through which the others had just left.

“He’s mad at me,” I said simply, knowing a lie would do no good anymore.

“What did you do?”

“A lot.”

I was ready for Yoshiki to yell, to reprimand me for going against him and pursuing Miyavi. In all actuality, I wanted him to yell at me, to be angry. Instead, he looked at me sadly.

“I had the feeling it would happen,” he said softly. “I know you, Gackt, so I knew that no matter what I said, you wouldn’t be stopped. But, this is what I was afraid of. He’s not the same. A few days ago, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and I got the idea that you were making him happy. And I was ready to be okay with that. But this,” he sighed. “Fix it, Gackt. Fix it, make it right. Don’t tear this band apart. Don’t tear him apart.”

I stared at Yoshiki, shocked.

“You act like you think I should hit you,” he remarked. “Believe me, it crossed my mind. But, I’m not that spry anymore. And I know your reflexes are faster than mine, so I’d be the one on the floor at the end of it. It’s an enticing offer, but not one I’m willing to take up.”

He picked up his bag and headed for the door, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. Placing one hand against the door, he turned.

“Gackt?”

“Hmm?”

“Miyavi’s feelings… I think they go a lot deeper where you’re concerned. Whatever you said or did, even if you can’t figure out why he’s reacting the way he is, it hurt him deep. Figure it out, find the core of it, and mend the rift. He’s a good kid. He deserves happiness.”

Yoshiki pushed the door open and left. I was dumbfounded, shocked beyond words. Had Yoshiki just given me permission to pursue Miyavi? Had he just said that it was okay? It had been years since I’d sought anyone’s permission to do anything.

Still, with or without blessing, I was going to continue to do what I could for and with Miyavi. I’d messed up, but I was damn well going to make up for it.

Somehow.

 

A few days after my conversation with Yoshiki, I was back in LAX, seeing Chachamaru and You onto a plane. They were going home for a few weeks to oversee the rest of the band’s work on their part of the album recording. Ju-Ken was staying with me, a thought that was both unsettling and welcome.

“Things will work out,” You whispered in my ear as he hugged me. “For you, they always do. Remember?”

He pulled back, kissed me on the cheek, and moved aside. Chachamaru took his place, smiling as he embraced me tightly.

“He’s a tough kid. He’ll come around. By the time we get back next month, things will be peachy.”

With a quick squeeze and another broad smile, Chacha left my arms and took Ju-Ken aside, whispering a few last minute instructions. I pretended to ignore them, knowing exactly what was being said.

‘Make sure Gackt doesn’t work too hard. Make sure Gackt eats and sleeps. Make sure Gackt sees the sun. Make sure Gackt breathes.’

Same old, same old.

You slid his arm around me and I felt immediately grateful, smiling lightly at him. Minutes later, they were boarding their flight, and I was left standing at the expansive windows with Ju-Ken, watching their plane fade into the sky.

“Boss?”

“What?”

“Are you alright?”

I glanced at Ju-Ken and saw that he was watching me levelly, his eyes missing no detail. Chacha had trained him well, it seemed.

“I might be. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”

Standing at the door to my suite, I had the sudden urge to go knock on Miyavi’s door, but I knew he either wouldn’t answer it at all or let me in if he did. It was becoming terribly frustrating. With a sigh, I retreated into my own darkened rooms.

My mind refused to settle. I missed You and Chacha horribly; I wished they were still with me. Ju-Ken was off on some adventure of his own, leaving me to fend for myself for the night. Yoshiki was in meetings all day, and Sugizo was missing. There was no one I could call, no one I could turn to.

Going out onto my balcony, I glanced sideways and saw Miyavi two doors down. He was leaning on the railing, staring down at the street below, lost in thought. I moved quietly and settled myself onto a chair, trying not to disturb him. I just looked at him, watched him. It was all I was allowed to do anymore, it seemed.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said after a while, not raising his eyes to look at me. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

He shrugged one shoulder, sucking his lip ring into his mouth as he thought.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just got scared.”

“That’s normal in any relationship.”

He finally looked at me.

“Relationship?”

I looked back, unmoving.

“Gackt… can I come over?”

“Always.”

XII. Miyavi: Strings, Chords… Fret

 

My meeting with Sugizo was set for just before lunch, so I refrained from ordering anything when I got back to my room. Besides, the knots that my stomach had tied itself into deterred me from any thought of food.

I had just spent the night with Gackt. Granted, his deep seated exhaustion had caused him to collapse back into sleep shortly after our little impromptu make out session, but I hadn’t left, had I? At any time, I could have slipped away and gone back to my own room. But I didn’t. I’d lain in his arms, wrapped around him, wrapped up with him, and I’d fallen asleep not long after him.

It was all so unreal.

 

We spent a few more nights together after that, playing out our wager in secret, though there wasn’t much intimate contact at first. I seemed to be winning, as Gackt laughed and smiled with more ease after the first night. Once and a while, You, Ju-Ken, and Chachamaru would join us, just to see the progress I was making. I think they were pleasantly surprised, if not baffled by the change in their boss. I made fast friends with them, humoring them with the antics that had become so trademark to my name that I couldn’t help myself anymore.

In public, it was another story.

Gackt and I did spend some evenings in the company of the others. We kept a distance between us as much as possible and remained coolly aloof of one another. During the day, Yoshiki and Gackt would lock themselves away somewhere, and sometimes Sugizo and I attended these gatherings. More often than not, though, Sugizo and I were left to fend for ourselves.

Sugizo, it turns out, is an excellent teacher. I was excited to learn new techniques that could trick new sounds out of any guitar. He was excited at how fast I picked up on them. Spending time with Sugizo was better than I thought it would be, considering the age difference. But, when you get right down to it, Sugizo’s not much more grown up than I am. At least, mentally.

Finally, we started playing the songs. At first, we went without a bassist; something we all agreed needed to be reconciled, and fast. After a while, Gackt started bringing Ju-Ken to practices randomly. He was almost as energetic as I am, which is saying something, and he made practices more fun. At least, until Yoshiki threatened to strangle us both with piano wire if we didn’t calm down once and a while and get serious about our work. Beyond that, we kept the goofing off to a minimum.

 

On a rare day off, I decided I was bored enough to check out some of the stores near the hotel. Donning an off-color outfit, I stuffed my hair into a hat and left, slipping into the elevator just as the doors closed. The young maid in the car with me looked me over and giggled.

“Not much of a disguise, Mr. Miyavi,” she said softly in English, smiling at my reflection in the doors. “But it will do. This is L.A.”

I smiled back at her, watching her reflection turn pink. Before she got out on the floor below, I hugged her quickly, thanking her. She turned darker pink, bowed her head, and fled the elevator, smiling widely.

It was early, so the traffic was heavy. Instead of trying to get a cab, I set out at a walk, just enjoying the morning. It was nice, for once, to just let myself go with the normal flow of traffic. Kind of act like a normal person for a while. Sometimes, it was nice to go unrecognized in a crowd.

Some of the stores I passed held no interest for me, but others I felt compelled to go into. One in particular dealt in silver.

I was glad for my long sleeves when I stepped into the arctic blast of the air conditioning within the store. Zipping it slightly, I wandered among the displays, wrinkling my nose at the airy, sappy piano music that they played over the P.A. Give me guitars and drums any day, thank you very much.

I was never one to wear much jewelry outside of my piercings and the random rings and bracelets, so I shied away from the jewelry counter for the moment, sliding along the wall, eying the many silver cast paperweights and figurines. I giggled over the silver zoo on one shelf, playing with an elephant for a few moments before the huffy woman at the counter cleared her throat quite loudly. Smiling benignly at her, I set the figurine down and moved on.

When my circuit of the store finally took me to the jewelry displays, I gave in to my own curiosity – I swear it’ll be the death of me one day – and looked.

Silver cast everything gleamed back at me. Crosses, Crucifixes, clovers, shamrocks, twists, curves, teardrops, dragons, fairies, the whole nine yards. Plain chains, braided chains, thick chains, thin chains, long chains, short chains. Bracelets, earrings, rings, lapel pins, cuff links, tie clips. All of it. Anything that can be poured into a mold was on display beneath the glass.

Just as my jaw was climbing from the floor back to its place on my face, my phone rang in my pocket. A glare from the woman behind the counter sent me running outside to answer it.

“Moshi mosh?” I panted.

“Miya? It’s Gackt.”

“Hi. What’s up?”

“I know we made plans tonight, but-,” he said, sounding guilty.

“You’ve got to take a rain check, right?” I finished, frowning slightly.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I said, though I wanted to yell at him. “I understand when things come up.”

“I’m probably going to have to cancel tomorrow night, as well,” he said, his voice dropping.

“Oh.”

“Miyavi?”

“What?”

“Please don’t be upset with me.”

“Why should I be?” I snapped before I could think. “It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or anything.”

Ignoring his cry of protest, I disconnected the call and turned my phone off. Bowing my head against the curious stares I was receiving, I made my way back to the hotel and into my room. Minutes later, I heard someone knocking, so I retreated further into the suite, away from the door. I knew it was Gackt.

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I had reacted the way I did. Had I really made myself believe that there was anything between Gackt and me? That anything we said or did meant anything outside of our wager? That damn bet. If I hadn’t fallen into it, things wouldn’t have gotten so far out of hand. Stolen moments, kissing when no one was looking, cryptic looks and secret touches. All of the nonsense that made my heart pound, my head swim. All the things that drove me crazy for him.

It made me angry. It made me hate myself. It made me want to hide for the rest of my life.

Even through my anger, I knew one thing for certain. I couldn’t quit Gackt. Not now, not after I’d had a taste of the man he is beneath the façade. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t quit him. So, even if I won the wager, he was the real winner. It didn’t matter what I did.

He came back and knocked three more times before he seemed to give up. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or upset about it.

I didn’t know what to feel at all.