Disclaimer: I don’t own Gravitation. It is the property of Maki Murakami and I’m just going to keep borrowing the characters for fanfics. The only profit I get for fanfics is internal, because it’s illegal to externally profit from it.
Rated xXx: There will be chapters with sex and I will not spoil the surprise by posting warnings in the chapter headings. This story is meant for mature readers. You’ve been warned.
This is the latest fic in the ABC series… making it Abc 8a. For ‘G’, I am splitting the fic into two simultaneous stories. This one will focus on Nittle Grasper and Ryuichi/Tatsuha. Abc 8b will focus on Bad Luck and Hiro/Matsuo. Some events of the two stories may intersect but you will not need to follow both, if you have no interest in ½ of the story! ;D
Finally, I will try to make this story understandable for people who haven’t read the previous seven fics. For those faithful readers who have stayed with the series from earlier days, you will have to put up with a bit of unnecessary explanation. Thanks for reading!
~Grasping Glimpses~
1 : Collapse!
Ryuichi was really worried about his friend Tohma’s behavior. After Nittle Grasper’s concert on Seiji No Hi, [1] the singer had called a break for the band. News reporters were told Ryuichi wanted to spend some time off, writing new songs. Ryuichi’s real explanation to his band-mates had been honest and private. Ryu would continue to write and the band would continue to practice, but they weren’t going to perform or record until Tohma was better. Noriko had backed Ryuichi up. They were both concerned for their friend. When Tohma could love the music again and he had his feet on the ground, the group could go back to normal.
Tohma had taken the news calmly and accepted it, but the next day, Ryu found Tohma at his desk with his head in his arms, sniffling quietly. Ryuichi startled the keyboardist when he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Tohma?” He asked.
“Ryuichi.” Tohma sounded strained but lifted his head. Surprisingly, Tohma hugged Ryu tightly, clinging to his waist and crying. “It’s all so . . . dull,” the blond confessed. “Nothing moves me anymore, Ryu. It’s my own fault . . . I take advantage of people. Now I have no one.” The singer patted his friend’s back, unsure about what else to do. “Ryuichi, stay with me?” Tohma begged.
“Kumagorou and I will stay. Us bachelors have to stick together, na no da!” Ryu had laughed, trying to ease some of the tension and the sadness.
Tohma pulled away, releasing him. “Oh, my friend, things were so much easier when we began. I was free then. Free of family obligations, free of business concerns, free to love . . . “ Tohma’s voice trailed off, but he looked into Ryu’s eyes.
Ryuichi wondered if Tohma was trying to convey some message to him. “Tohma?” The two of them had physically loved each other in the early days of Nittle Grasper. Was that what Tohma was referring to? They had been young and fumbling, but they had come together understanding what they wanted from each other. Back then, two things had happened to call a halt to their relationship and they had occurred more-or-less simultaneously: the Seguchi family arranged marriage for their son and the band soared into stardom with the release of their first album. With the band’s success, they both agreed they couldn’t afford to risk getting caught in a ‘gay’ scandal. Now Tohma was talking about freedoms of the past . . .
“I’m back to square one, Ryuichi,” Tohma said sadly, pulling the singer back into the present. “No family. I’m free to . . . do what I want.” Tohma sighed heavily. He took a small package of tissues from his desk and used one to dry his face. “I realize now, I wanted what I had, but I threw it away.” The man tossed the tissues into the trash can, as if to emphasize his last statement. Ryuichi began to get nervous. What did Tohma mean?
“You were right, Ryuichi. The music . . . I can’t find the joy in it as I used to. It has become all business with me.” Tohma shook his head. “Without the music . . . I feel like I have no foundation. My wife . . . she’s gone. I’m alone. Ryuichi, where did I go wrong?” The question was rhetorical and Ryu knew it. He didn’t have an answer, anyway. He took hope from Tohma’s mention of Mika, though. Was Tohma talking this way because he regretted their divorce? “All I have left is my company and my job bores me to tears, lately. I have to throw myself into my work, though, because I have nothing else.”
If Tohma couldn’t see any meaning to his life beyond his work then Ryu decided his friend had more issues than could be cured with a vacation. Ryuichi strongly questioned whether Nittle Grasper would ever play music publicly again. The two of them cried on each other that evening for very different, selfish reasons.
***
Since that night, Ryuichi had watched over Tohma. He tried to get his friend to participate in other activities, but the man always seemed to have an excuse. At the bare minimum, Ryuichi tried to get Tohma to eat and sleep. Takudome-san, Tohma’s personal assistant, helped Ryu, since it often took both of them to force the president of NG into taking care of himself.
Last night had been another battle of this sort. Takudome had gone home and Ryu tried to get Tohma to do the same. Tohma refused. He also wouldn’t eat dinner until he was done with a certain amount of his paperwork and he wouldn’t rest or take a nap, either. In turn, Ryuichi had told Tohma he wasn’t leaving until Tohma did. So, neither of them had left but Ryu had fallen asleep. He woke up feeling desperately hungry. He was groggy, too. His mouth tasted like it was stuffed with cotton and it took him a moment to realize it was Kumagorou’s pink fuzzy ear. Ryu sat up on the couch, dislodging a dark blue blanket with the NG corporate logo stitched in gold. Tohma must have covered him.
“Good morning, Ryuichi-san,” Tohma’s voice called.
Ryuichi focused on his surroundings. He was still in the president’s spacious office. Morning light was coming in the windows behind Tohma, who sat at his desk. “Good morning,” Ryu called to him. He yawned and rubbed his hair. “Did you sleep?”
Tohma gave him a big, fat, phony smile from behind his big desk and said, “Don’t worry about me. You should have gone home when I told you to last night.” He needed to follow his own advice, Ryu thought. The singer frowned and pouted at his friend. They both knew why he hadn’t gone home.
To someone who did not know Tohma, NG’s president looked as snappy and as stylish as ever. Perhaps people greeting him would think Tohma looked a bit older in person than he did in his publicity photos, but they didn’t see him everyday. To Ryuichi, Tohma looked like Hell. His false smile didn’t hold any warmth and it lacked enthusiasm. His eyes looked glassy— probably from recently applied eye drops to make the blood-shot look disappear. When Tohma wasn’t covering his expression with a smile, his brows drew together and his mouth had a pinched look. Even his eyes looked empty and hollow.
“Tohma, Kumagorou says you’re going to die if you don’t get some sleep and something to eat.” To his bunny, Ryu said, “Sorry about your ear. We’ll have to get some food, na no da!” Tucking Kuma into his jean jacket, Ryu jumped to his feet exclaiming, “Tohma! Let’s go out for breakfast. I’ll buy. We can go to the place with—“
“Ryuichi-san, I can’t. I have a full schedule today.” Tohma clicked the intercom on his desk. “Nakasato-san, please bring in the files for my eight-o’clock appointment.”
“Tohma,” Ryuichi said, “I said I wasn’t leaving until you did! And when are you going to have breakfast?”
The office’s main doors opened and Takudome-san came in with a tea tray. Behind her, was Tohma’s secretary, Nakasato-san. Ryuichi just called her Secretary-san, though, because Tohma never seemed to keep secretaries long enough to make remembering their names important. Ryu and Takudome exchanged ‘good mornings’ while she set the tray on the table near the couch and fixed tea. Secretary-san handed a bunch of files over to Tohma.
“Seguchi-san, the car will be waiting for you in the second-level parking at 7:30. Your driver estimates it will take twenty-minutes to arrive at the meeting center. If I may, sir, please pay close attention to clause twelve of the suggested contract—“
“Thank you for your concern, Nakasato-san, but I have no intention of signing the contract.” He smiled again, but Ryu knew it was a very pale imitation of his usual pleasant face. More and more, Tohma looked like he was going through the ‘proper’ motions. He was still acting smarter than movie-zombies, but for how long?
“Of course, sir,” Secretary-san said with a bow. Ryu didn’t hear her click her heels together or see her salute, but she gave that kind of impression.
Tohma stood up from his desk. “I have about ten minutes before my car arrives, then. I’ll just take these files with me and read them on the way.” Somehow, Secretary-san heard a dismissal in the boss’s statement and with another bow, she left. The president turned from his desk and looked at Ryuichi. “You see, Ryuichi-san? I am leaving, so you can, too.” Tohma walked over to him. “Get some sleep, my friend.” He picked up a cup of tea from Takudome’s tray and drank some.
Ryu and Takudome exchanged looks of frustrated incredulity over Mr. Workaholic telling someone else to sleep. Tohma must have caught a glimpse of their unspoken communication. “Don’t worry; I’ll take a nap between my ten o’clock and luncheon.”
“You said you were busy all day,” Ryu accused.
“I did, and so I am,” Tohma agreed. “Ryuichi-kun, please go home. I have a press conference in a little while, so you can watch over me from your TV.” Ryuichi gave Tohma wide eyes along with as much of an expression of clueless innocence as he could summon. Tohma laughed— a tired, dry, amused sound. He laid a hand on Ryu’s arm in an intimately friendly gesture and leaned close. “I know what you’re trying to do for me, my friend. Thank you. Now go home.”
Ryuichi hugged Tohma. “Promise you’ll eat?” Ryu pulled away to see how his friend answered.
“I promise,” Tohma assured him.
Ryu nodded and pulled out his bunny. “Okay, Kumagorou, you heard him. Let’s go home. I’m hungry, too. Something tasty from the noodle deli *does* sound good,” he said. “Good bye, Tohma. Takudome-san, you heard him promise, too, so make him eat!” Ryu left NG headquarters, confident Tohma would not break his promise.
Ryu had his very own special parking place. He unlocked the door to his little silver convertible BMW Z4 and climbed in. He buckled Kumagorou into the passenger seat and himself into the driver’s seat. Once he was settled, he rubbed his hand across his eyes and let his aggressive side take over. He needed focus to drive.
When he arrived at the noodle deli, Ryuichi parked his car out front and let himself relax again. He plucked Kuma from the passenger seat and skipped into the deli. There, he let the bunny choose noodles for breakfast and sang a song about a bunny in a hot air balloon while the deli lady fixed his order. Ryu kept trying to figure out some way to help Tohma. It had been more than a month since Seiji No Hi, but the Christmas and Shogatsu holidays [4] took up time and Ryu had spent most of that time in Kyoto with Tatsuha. After Shogatsu, he’d had to take a week to settle some business in L.A. He’d returned last week and learned Shuichi and Yuki’s adopted daughter was officially family now. So, over the weekend, he had hosted a party for them because he had been away when they had a joining-the-family party in Kyoto and he was sad he had missed that. The second party had been a lot of fun, though! At that party, Tohma hadn’t seemed . . . right.
This week, Ryuichi had been doing a better job of watching over his friend but Tohma still wasn’t listening to anyone. The man was willfully working himself into the ground and no one could stop him. It made Ryuichi sad. Early on in Nittle Grasper’s career, Ryu had driven himself too hard and collapsed on stage. He’d had to recuperate in a hospital for days and he had learned his lesson. He didn’t want to see Tohma hurting himself like that, but maybe he needed a lesson like Ryu had had.
Ryu knew Tohma was upset about his life. A lot of Japanese would commit suicide, but Tohma was a fighter and a survivor. Ryu was certain his friend could see the problem . . . Tohma just wasn’t doing anything to make it better.
Ryu heard a noise and looked up. The deli lady was holding his noodles and looking at him with exasperation. Ryuichi apologized and accepted the food from her with thanks. This was precisely the sort of reason Ryu had to let his aggressive side drive, or sing. He just didn’t have the focus without . . . help. Ryu’s aggressive side helped him through a lot of things.
He left the deli, absentmindedly talking to Kumagorou. It was funny— most people probably looked at him talking to a bunny and they thought, ‘crazy’. In reality, Kumagorou kept Ryu sane. Kuma was his balance. If Ryu had to be serious all the time, he’d die. Kuma allowed him to be fun and silly. Ryu considered giving Tohma a stuffed animal, to help him be silly, too, but Ryuichi knew Tohma wouldn’t know how to play. Any stuffed animal Tohma had would only get lonely.
Kuma held the noodles while Ryuichi drove home. After he parked the car at home, in the garage under his building, he unbuckled Kuma. The bunny’s tummy was all nice and warm and Ryu held the bunny against his cheek on the elevator ride and carried the noodles in his other hand. He didn’t meet any of his neighbors coming or going as he walked the halls to his apartment. Opening his front door, Ryu went in calling out, “I’m home!” [2] He knew no one was home, but he felt better for saying it. It made him miss Tatsuha. He kicked his shoes off, but left his coat on because the apartment was cold. Ryu hadn’t been here since yesterday morning and he hadn’t left the heater on.
“Well, Kumagorou, let’s eat!” From the entryway, Ryu walked directly into the kitchen, collected chopsticks from a drawer, passed through the dining room with its white Western table and chairs, and went into the living room. The room where he spent most of his at-home time was pretty sparse. Ryu had a kotatsu table, [3] a big entertainment center, and an electric heater in the room. Wide glass doors ran the length of the left wall, opening out onto the terrace. His kotatsu table was covered in junk— old snacks and wrappers, dishes, manga, video games, game controllers, TV remotes, notebooks, crayons, movies, scissors . . . you name it. Ryu just set his noodles and chopsticks on top of a stable-looking pile of stuff and made himself comfortable. Remembering the space heater, he had to lean waaaay over to turn it on. He was more practiced about turning on the heater under the kotatsu table— he could do it with his toes. The dull, white noise of the heaters filled the room and Ryu tucked the edges of the kotatsu blanket around his body. He pulled Kumagorou from his coat where he’d stashed the bunny in order to free his hand to unlock the door earlier.
“What would you like to watch, Kuma?” Ryu set Kumagorou on the table in a position where he could see the TV. Unfortunately, Kuma didn’t want to watch TV at all. He missed Tatsuha. “I miss Tatsuha, too, na no da,” Ryuichi sympathized. Maybe he could go to Kyoto for a day this weekend. “How about a movie?” Ryu aimed a remote at his entertainment system and turned on the DVD player. Something was ready to play, so he hit ‘resume’. Bela Lugosi came up on the screen in all his Dracula-glory. Ryu smiled and opened his noodles.
On the walls of the living room hung Ryu’s collection of framed movie poster prints. They were all for old American horror film classics— he had Dracula, The Mummy, Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Night of Living Dead, and The Flesh Eaters. Ryu had all these old horror movies on DVD, and more. He loved to watch them over and over again because they always made him laugh.
Kumagorou complained he liked ‘The Flesh Eaters’ better. He whined and pointed out how they had already watched ‘Dracula’ the other night. Ryu ate his noodles, telling Kuma, “Too bad. I’m going to watch ‘Dracula’, na no da! I didn’t get to finish it last time and the Van Helsing versus Dracula part is so funny!” Kuma huffed and gave in, agreeing it *was* a good part of the film.
Ryu had just about finished off his noodles when his cell phone rang. Ryu pulled it from his pants’ pocket. There weren’t too many people who had this number, so he answered fearlessly and didn’t check the caller ID. “Helloooo, Ryuichi here.”
“Sakuma-san,” Takudome greeted him, “Seguchi-san has collapsed! He’s been admitted to Okubo Hospital in Shinjuku-ku. I don’t know who else to notify . . .” Takudome sniffled. She sounded really upset.
Ryu choked on his noodles for just a second. Panic hit him like being punched in the stomach. As if he really had been punched, Ryu’s aggressive side rose up to protect him. Takudome was expecting him to do something, or say something. Ryu knew Tohma wouldn’t want to worry his parents. Aloud, he ordered, “Call Sakano-san.” Tohma had split up with Sakano-san nearly six months ago. The man would freak out over news of his boss’s collapse, but he would know what to do. He might even go to the hospital to be near Tohma.
Ryu would call Noriko, and Shuichi and Yuki-san. Besides himself, the next-closest person to Tohma would be Noriko. He thought Yuki-san cared about Tohma and would want to know, too. He knew Tohma cared deeply about Yuki. “What happened?” Ryu asked tersely.
Takudome responded to the deep, serious-quality of his voice. “He-He was at an interview. Modegi-san was talking to him about a Nittle Grasper retrospective article for ‘Music News’. One minute Seguchi-san was sitting there smiling . . . he put a hand to his head and knocked his hat off, then he just . . . fell over!” Takudome sniffled again.
“Thank you, Takudome-san,” Ryu told her. Inside, a part of him was crying for his friend. To the distraught secretary, he said, “You did the right thing. Sakano-san will know what to do about Modegi-san.” Takudome started to say something more, but Ryuichi hung up. He was focused. He needed to call people. Then he had to go to his friend’s side. Tohma would need someone. Hospitals were bad places. They were lonely and cold and smelled funny. Ryu reached for Kuma, but shook his head. He had to stay focused. He reached for the remote instead and shut the TV and DVD player off.
He called Noriko, first. After a few rings, she answered, sounding really bouncy, “This is Ukai-san!”
“Noriko?” Ryu almost lost focus. Noriko was always so comforting and caring, Ryu almost let himself fall and be mothered by her. He still had other calls to make, though, and then he had to drive to the hospital. He couldn’t break down. He had to maintain this part of himself. Before she spoke, he told her, “Tohma . . . is at Okubo Hospital. He did it, Noriko. He wouldn’t listen and now he . . .” Ryu stopped himself and tightened his grip on his emotions. He crushed the phone in his grip, feeling the hard plastic and needing to hold onto something. He knew his eyes were leaking; he gave into himself and switched parts. “Noriko, Tohma is sick—“
“Shhhh, Ryu-kun. He’ll be okay. I’ll go see him as soon as I can. We both knew what would happen if he didn’t slow down. Thank you for calling. Are you going to be all right?”
He straightened up and swiped an arm across his eyes. He couldn’t afford to give in anymore. “I’m not sick,” he told her. He hung up. ‘Polite’ was always so much harder to do when he was like this. Noriko would understand.
Tohma’s problems might not affect Shuichi, but how would Yuki-san react? He needed to be told. Ryu took a deep breath and dialed. Yuki-san’s voice said, “Hello.” Yuki-san was very important to Tohma, Ryu thought. He would have to go see Tohma. It would be better if Yuki-san was in charge.
“Tohma is at Okuba Hospital.”
Before Ryu could explain, Yuki interrupted, “Sakuma? What do you mean by that? Why is he at the hospital?”
“He fell over,” Ryu said. He didn’t think any more needed to be said, so he hung up on Yuki, too. From his tone of voice, Yuki *was* concerned. That was good. Maybe other people would see Tohma and understand he needed help. Next, Ryu dialed Tatsuha in Kyoto. He got the home answering machine with Mika-san’s voice. As with the others, he told the machine Tohma was in the hospital. He held the phone for a moment, wondering if he should say something to Mika about visiting, or if he should say something to Tatsuha. He loved Tatsuha and missed him, but could he tell an answering machine that? It didn’t seem right. While he wondered, the phone beeped and an automated voice told him his message had been recorded. He hung up.
His noodles didn’t feel good in his stomach anymore. He ran to the bathroom and threw up. Tohma couldn’t get sick! Tohma was supposed to be the one who took care of everyone else! Ryu had known what was coming; he’d seen what was happening! Some part of him hated to see proof Tohma *wasn’t* invincible. It jarred his world view and made him feel unsafe. Even when he’d been predicting Tohma’s breakdown, a part of him had been denying it. It went against reason to deny such a thing could ever happen, but Ryu understood what reality was like. There had been another person in his life who had been hospitalized suddenly.
Ryu shook his head. Buddha, protect Tohma, he thought. He washed his mouth and face. He turned off the heaters. He paused, wondering if Kumagorou should come with him. Right now, he was in a mindset where he didn’t need the rabbit, but later . . . later, he might. He put the rabbit in his coat and left for the hospital.
***
[1] Seiji No Hi is a national coming of age holiday for celebration of everyone turning 20 and entering adulthood.
[2] Tadaima = I’m home, Okaeri = Welcome home. This is an important traditional greeting and response every time a person comes home.
[3] A kotatsu table has a heater on the underside and a blanket that goes over the table frame, but under the table-top and drapes to the floor. Why? Because Japanese houses are made largely of bamboo and paper, even today. They do not use central heating or insulation of any kind.
[4] Shogatsu is the New Year's holiday which is celebrated from the Eve through the first three days of the year.
***
End Note: This time, I’m going to be posting chapters at the pace of my wonderful beta-readers, Patosan and Bakayarona . . . and they have lives outside of fanfics. ^_^; Thanks for your patience. |