theme #4, deathfic, Tohma x Shuichi; theme #50, goodbye, Tohma x Shuichi
Title: Tsukiyo, Chapters Two and Three
Chapters Two and Three of Fifty
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Tohma/Shuichi
Warnings: angst-galore! death. things like that always make me happy when I write. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Two
Eiri’s body had been found two days after he had “fallen” into the river. Mika had received the phone call from the police around midnight, and immediately had gone to the mortuary.
Tohma had accompanied her . . . just in case she was unable to go through with the identification process. His wife was strong but even she had her limits. Seeing her brother dead, he had figured, could possibly be too much for her. The blond had wanted to be there for her.
He also had another reason for wanting to go the morgue. If it was Eiri’s body - which Tohma had no doubts. The novelist had a very distinctive appearance - then he wanted the chance to apologize. Tohma had failed his brother-in-law, something he had vowed he’d never do again. He had not been able to save the younger man from the fate that awaited him, and it filled Tohma with guilt.
However, Tohma was not about to let his guilt get the better of him. He couldn’t let it. The blond still had to figure out why Eiri had snapped and why the novelist had tried to kill the one person he loved more than anyone. He intended to find out what had happened that night before he’d arrived to the scene and the key to his personal investigation lay in one Shindou Shuichi.
Unfortunately, during the time the police were still searching for Eiri, Tohma had spent every waking hour with Mika, waiting for the inevitable news. He had to get updates on Shindou from Sakano, but the reports never sounded promising.
The singer kept fading in and out of consciousness. He asked for either Tohma or Eiri when he was conscious or begged for someone to stop . . . that they were hurting him. On top of that, according to Sakano, Shindou still had difficulty breathing. The younger man’s pitiful state had Nakano breathing fire and wanting to personally strangle one Yuki Eiri.
Also, from what Sakano had told Tohma, no one could get much in the way of answers from Bad Luck’s vocalist. Whenever he was asked about what had happened the night Eiri fell, Shindou kept saying the same thing.
“Page two hundred fifty-three.”
No one had been able to figure out what the singer had meant by it or why he refused to say any more than that. It had everyone close to Shindou baffled.
‘Page two hundred fifty-three . . . he’s hiding something . . . he’s protecting Eiri . . . Despite what’s happened, he’s still protecting Eiri,’ Tohma deduced, pulling into the hospital parking lot.
A day had passed since he and Mika had been called to the mortuary and had identified Eiri’s body. As Tohma had predicted, the death of Yuki Eiri had been ruled as accidental, due to a high blood alcohol level, by the medical examiner. Because of the amount of drink he’d consumed, Eiri had not been able to fight against the strong current of the river and had subsequently drowned. The wound - where Tohma had stabbed the writer with a jagged rock - was overlooked as the cause of death.
Thanks to those findings, the novelist was now being transported to Kyoto for funeral rites, Mika traveling with the police escort. He had stayed behind . . . so he could inform Shindou of the news. Tohma had also made it clear to Sakano that no one to was tell the vocalist that it was official. Yuki Eiri had been found and was, in fact, dead.
Normally, the blond wouldn’t have cared if anyone else had delivered such tragic news to Shindou Shuichi. The vocalist wasn’t a favourite to the blond, and Tohma had put up with the singer for Eiri’s sake. The only reason why he’d made an exception this time was because Tohma was the one to kill Eiri. He wanted answers to his questions and he hoped that, by being the one to tell Shindou that Eiri was dead, he’d jar something out of the vocalist, something more than “page two hundred fifty-three.”
‘It has to do with one of Eiri’s novels,’ Tohma mused darkly as he strode towards the I.C.U. ‘That I’m sure of . . . but which one? I don’t recall ever reading something like what happened in any of his books.’
Given that his brother-in-law had written so many novels over the years, though, Tohma couldn’t be sure. He’d have to go through his library at some point just to be sure. In the meantime, he had a singer to visit . . . and some answers to obtain. And Tohma intended to get them one way or another.
‘I’m so sorry, Eiri. I just hope that you can forgive me . . .’
Chapter Three
The drive to Kyoto had been exhausting. It had also felt like it had taken days to get there, instead of the usual five hours.
But then, Shuichi, figured, it probably had taken that because of the number of stops he’d had Hiro make along the way. He wasn’t quite used to being quite so active or in a vehicle for that long. His ribs still ached from the beating he’d received from Eiri.
“Tell me why we’re doing this again?” Hiro inquired as he pulled K’s car in front of the Uesugi temple. Shuichi was glad that the American had loaned them the vehicle. The drive might have been worse if he’d to ride on Hiro’s bike.
“So I can pay my last respects,” Shuichi replied, wincing a little as he climbed out of the car. A small stab of pain went through his chest as he moved. It was something the doctors had told him to expect. “I didn’t get to attend anything for him.”
“You sent me to do that,” the guitarist pointed out. “Remember?”
“Not the same,” Shuichi murmured softly. “Not the same.”
Three months had passed since his lover had died, and Shuichi had endured most of everything from a hospital bed. His movements had been restricted thanks to severe blood loss and five broken ribs. The rest of his injuries had been rather superficial, all things considered.
‘He still could have gone easy on me,’ Shuichi grumped to himself. ‘But then maybe he was . . . I don’t know.’
During his stay in the hospital, as Eiri had predicted to him, Tohma had visited Shuichi. Not as often as the novelist had believed, but Tohma still had shown up. The former Grasper had wanted answers but had only received one: page two hundred fifty-three.
‘And he’ll find out what that means in time . . . once I carry out the rest of Eiri’s wishes . . .’
“Here are your flowers,” Hiro stated, handing over a small bouquet of white and blue roses, “and I’m sorry, Shu. I know that you loved him. It’s only natural that you’d want to be here.”
Shuichi smiled faintly at his best friend. He knew that Hiro didn’t want to be at the Uesugi temple again. The guitarist had not forgiven Eiri for what had happened and probably never would.
“Thanks . . . I’m glad you’re here with me, Hiro.”
“I know,” Hiro said solemnly. “You’re the only reason why I’ve even bothered. Now let’s get this over with. I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. This place gives me the creeps.”
‘That’s what Eiri used to say,’ Shuichi thought sadly as they strode towards the temple.
“Shuichi?”
Both he and Hiro paused at the sound of his name, and turned. Approaching them from behind was Tatsuha. The younger Uesugi’s eyes were wide with shock.
“Hey,” Shuichi smiled. Tatsuha ran up to them.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes. “I thought for sure that you wouldn’t . . . not after . . .”
“I loved him. Why wouldn’t I come here?”
“Because of what happened,” Tatsuha said darkly. “You’re far too forgiving, Shuichi. Not many would come to pay respects to someone who tried to kill them.”
“I’m not like others,” Shuichi murmured. Then he had to squeeze his eyes shut as a wave of dizziness hit him.
‘You’re pushing yourself too hard,’ a little voice whispered. ‘Hurry up before you pass out . . . baka.’
‘Yes, Eiri,’ he replied absently.
“I think we better hurry this up,” Hiro was saying. “You don’t look so good.”
“‘m just tired,” he murmured. “It was a long drive.”
“I’ll show you the way,” Tatsuha offered. “Then I’ll open some of the guest rooms for you.”
Before Hiro could protest - Shuichi saw his friend opening his mouth to say something - Tatsuha had grabbed them both by the hand and led them inside. Shuichi felt himself sighing a little in relief. At least one member of the Uesugi clan didn’t hate him for what had happened.
Since Eiri’s death, Shuichi had noticed some changes in those that were closest to Eiri, specifically Mika and Tohma. The couple had not taken the novelist’s death very well nor the reading of Eiri’s will. Tohma may not have shown it but Shuichi figured the older man could not have been happy with Eiri leaving everything to him. For a moment, he thought that the older man might try to fight the will. Tohma had that strange, scary look in his eyes that Shuichi only recalled ever seeing once before but the blond hadn’t. Instead, he smiled and expressed his condolences to Shuichi.
And Mika . . . had already been devastated by her brother’s death. She’d already blamed Shuichi for everything that had happened. Mika had even tried to attack him while he’d been hospitalized. When it came time for Eiri’s will to be read, she already had a defeated look in her eyes and in her posture. Shuichi felt certain she hadn’t even heard as Eiri’s lawyer read the will.
‘I’ll have to put everything to rights somehow . . . once I can figure out how.’
In a matter of moments, Shuichi found himself standing in front of Eiri’s grave, his reverie interrupted. He’d worry about Mika and Tohma later. There was someone else he needed to focus on, to talk to before he carried on with final wishes and tried to make amends. Shuichi glanced at Hiro and Tatsuha.
“Could you please give me a moment alone with Eiri?”
“Will you be all right?” Hiro inquired, concern lacing his tone. Shuichi nodded.
“Yeah . . . I just want to say goodbye . . . that’s all. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“All right,” the guitarist murmured, reluctantly stepping away. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. Make sure you don’t wear yourself out.”
“Yes, ‘mother,’” Shuichi sighed, smiling a little. He watched as Tatsuha led Hiro back into the Uesugi home before looking back at the tombstone. Then Shuichi knelt in front of Eiri’s grave, taking care not to aggravate his already agitated injuries.
“Well, Eiri . . . things are going as you said they would . . . I just wish things hadn’t come to this or this far . . . You’ve pushed too hard . . . I can’t watch him crack, I can’t. I know you would but I’m not you . . . This is going to kill him . . . I can’t deal with another loss like that . . . I know you won’t like it but I don’t know what else to do . . . I have to save him . . .” Shuichi smiled as he set the roses in front of his lover’s grave. “I know that’s probably what hurt you the most but I can’t help it. I love him the same way that I love you, Eiri. And I’ll do what’s right . . . I promise.”
Chapters Two and Three of Fifty
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Tohma/Shuichi
Warnings: angst-galore! death. things like that always make me happy when I write. :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Two
Eiri’s body had been found two days after he had “fallen” into the river. Mika had received the phone call from the police around midnight, and immediately had gone to the mortuary.
Tohma had accompanied her . . . just in case she was unable to go through with the identification process. His wife was strong but even she had her limits. Seeing her brother dead, he had figured, could possibly be too much for her. The blond had wanted to be there for her.
He also had another reason for wanting to go the morgue. If it was Eiri’s body - which Tohma had no doubts. The novelist had a very distinctive appearance - then he wanted the chance to apologize. Tohma had failed his brother-in-law, something he had vowed he’d never do again. He had not been able to save the younger man from the fate that awaited him, and it filled Tohma with guilt.
However, Tohma was not about to let his guilt get the better of him. He couldn’t let it. The blond still had to figure out why Eiri had snapped and why the novelist had tried to kill the one person he loved more than anyone. He intended to find out what had happened that night before he’d arrived to the scene and the key to his personal investigation lay in one Shindou Shuichi.
Unfortunately, during the time the police were still searching for Eiri, Tohma had spent every waking hour with Mika, waiting for the inevitable news. He had to get updates on Shindou from Sakano, but the reports never sounded promising.
The singer kept fading in and out of consciousness. He asked for either Tohma or Eiri when he was conscious or begged for someone to stop . . . that they were hurting him. On top of that, according to Sakano, Shindou still had difficulty breathing. The younger man’s pitiful state had Nakano breathing fire and wanting to personally strangle one Yuki Eiri.
Also, from what Sakano had told Tohma, no one could get much in the way of answers from Bad Luck’s vocalist. Whenever he was asked about what had happened the night Eiri fell, Shindou kept saying the same thing.
“Page two hundred fifty-three.”
No one had been able to figure out what the singer had meant by it or why he refused to say any more than that. It had everyone close to Shindou baffled.
‘Page two hundred fifty-three . . . he’s hiding something . . . he’s protecting Eiri . . . Despite what’s happened, he’s still protecting Eiri,’ Tohma deduced, pulling into the hospital parking lot.
A day had passed since he and Mika had been called to the mortuary and had identified Eiri’s body. As Tohma had predicted, the death of Yuki Eiri had been ruled as accidental, due to a high blood alcohol level, by the medical examiner. Because of the amount of drink he’d consumed, Eiri had not been able to fight against the strong current of the river and had subsequently drowned. The wound - where Tohma had stabbed the writer with a jagged rock - was overlooked as the cause of death.
Thanks to those findings, the novelist was now being transported to Kyoto for funeral rites, Mika traveling with the police escort. He had stayed behind . . . so he could inform Shindou of the news. Tohma had also made it clear to Sakano that no one to was tell the vocalist that it was official. Yuki Eiri had been found and was, in fact, dead.
Normally, the blond wouldn’t have cared if anyone else had delivered such tragic news to Shindou Shuichi. The vocalist wasn’t a favourite to the blond, and Tohma had put up with the singer for Eiri’s sake. The only reason why he’d made an exception this time was because Tohma was the one to kill Eiri. He wanted answers to his questions and he hoped that, by being the one to tell Shindou that Eiri was dead, he’d jar something out of the vocalist, something more than “page two hundred fifty-three.”
‘It has to do with one of Eiri’s novels,’ Tohma mused darkly as he strode towards the I.C.U. ‘That I’m sure of . . . but which one? I don’t recall ever reading something like what happened in any of his books.’
Given that his brother-in-law had written so many novels over the years, though, Tohma couldn’t be sure. He’d have to go through his library at some point just to be sure. In the meantime, he had a singer to visit . . . and some answers to obtain. And Tohma intended to get them one way or another.
‘I’m so sorry, Eiri. I just hope that you can forgive me . . .’
Chapter Three
The drive to Kyoto had been exhausting. It had also felt like it had taken days to get there, instead of the usual five hours.
But then, Shuichi, figured, it probably had taken that because of the number of stops he’d had Hiro make along the way. He wasn’t quite used to being quite so active or in a vehicle for that long. His ribs still ached from the beating he’d received from Eiri.
“Tell me why we’re doing this again?” Hiro inquired as he pulled K’s car in front of the Uesugi temple. Shuichi was glad that the American had loaned them the vehicle. The drive might have been worse if he’d to ride on Hiro’s bike.
“So I can pay my last respects,” Shuichi replied, wincing a little as he climbed out of the car. A small stab of pain went through his chest as he moved. It was something the doctors had told him to expect. “I didn’t get to attend anything for him.”
“You sent me to do that,” the guitarist pointed out. “Remember?”
“Not the same,” Shuichi murmured softly. “Not the same.”
Three months had passed since his lover had died, and Shuichi had endured most of everything from a hospital bed. His movements had been restricted thanks to severe blood loss and five broken ribs. The rest of his injuries had been rather superficial, all things considered.
‘He still could have gone easy on me,’ Shuichi grumped to himself. ‘But then maybe he was . . . I don’t know.’
During his stay in the hospital, as Eiri had predicted to him, Tohma had visited Shuichi. Not as often as the novelist had believed, but Tohma still had shown up. The former Grasper had wanted answers but had only received one: page two hundred fifty-three.
‘And he’ll find out what that means in time . . . once I carry out the rest of Eiri’s wishes . . .’
“Here are your flowers,” Hiro stated, handing over a small bouquet of white and blue roses, “and I’m sorry, Shu. I know that you loved him. It’s only natural that you’d want to be here.”
Shuichi smiled faintly at his best friend. He knew that Hiro didn’t want to be at the Uesugi temple again. The guitarist had not forgiven Eiri for what had happened and probably never would.
“Thanks . . . I’m glad you’re here with me, Hiro.”
“I know,” Hiro said solemnly. “You’re the only reason why I’ve even bothered. Now let’s get this over with. I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. This place gives me the creeps.”
‘That’s what Eiri used to say,’ Shuichi thought sadly as they strode towards the temple.
“Shuichi?”
Both he and Hiro paused at the sound of his name, and turned. Approaching them from behind was Tatsuha. The younger Uesugi’s eyes were wide with shock.
“Hey,” Shuichi smiled. Tatsuha ran up to them.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes. “I thought for sure that you wouldn’t . . . not after . . .”
“I loved him. Why wouldn’t I come here?”
“Because of what happened,” Tatsuha said darkly. “You’re far too forgiving, Shuichi. Not many would come to pay respects to someone who tried to kill them.”
“I’m not like others,” Shuichi murmured. Then he had to squeeze his eyes shut as a wave of dizziness hit him.
‘You’re pushing yourself too hard,’ a little voice whispered. ‘Hurry up before you pass out . . . baka.’
‘Yes, Eiri,’ he replied absently.
“I think we better hurry this up,” Hiro was saying. “You don’t look so good.”
“‘m just tired,” he murmured. “It was a long drive.”
“I’ll show you the way,” Tatsuha offered. “Then I’ll open some of the guest rooms for you.”
Before Hiro could protest - Shuichi saw his friend opening his mouth to say something - Tatsuha had grabbed them both by the hand and led them inside. Shuichi felt himself sighing a little in relief. At least one member of the Uesugi clan didn’t hate him for what had happened.
Since Eiri’s death, Shuichi had noticed some changes in those that were closest to Eiri, specifically Mika and Tohma. The couple had not taken the novelist’s death very well nor the reading of Eiri’s will. Tohma may not have shown it but Shuichi figured the older man could not have been happy with Eiri leaving everything to him. For a moment, he thought that the older man might try to fight the will. Tohma had that strange, scary look in his eyes that Shuichi only recalled ever seeing once before but the blond hadn’t. Instead, he smiled and expressed his condolences to Shuichi.
And Mika . . . had already been devastated by her brother’s death. She’d already blamed Shuichi for everything that had happened. Mika had even tried to attack him while he’d been hospitalized. When it came time for Eiri’s will to be read, she already had a defeated look in her eyes and in her posture. Shuichi felt certain she hadn’t even heard as Eiri’s lawyer read the will.
‘I’ll have to put everything to rights somehow . . . once I can figure out how.’
In a matter of moments, Shuichi found himself standing in front of Eiri’s grave, his reverie interrupted. He’d worry about Mika and Tohma later. There was someone else he needed to focus on, to talk to before he carried on with final wishes and tried to make amends. Shuichi glanced at Hiro and Tatsuha.
“Could you please give me a moment alone with Eiri?”
“Will you be all right?” Hiro inquired, concern lacing his tone. Shuichi nodded.
“Yeah . . . I just want to say goodbye . . . that’s all. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“All right,” the guitarist murmured, reluctantly stepping away. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. Make sure you don’t wear yourself out.”
“Yes, ‘mother,’” Shuichi sighed, smiling a little. He watched as Tatsuha led Hiro back into the Uesugi home before looking back at the tombstone. Then Shuichi knelt in front of Eiri’s grave, taking care not to aggravate his already agitated injuries.
“Well, Eiri . . . things are going as you said they would . . . I just wish things hadn’t come to this or this far . . . You’ve pushed too hard . . . I can’t watch him crack, I can’t. I know you would but I’m not you . . . This is going to kill him . . . I can’t deal with another loss like that . . . I know you won’t like it but I don’t know what else to do . . . I have to save him . . .” Shuichi smiled as he set the roses in front of his lover’s grave. “I know that’s probably what hurt you the most but I can’t help it. I love him the same way that I love you, Eiri. And I’ll do what’s right . . . I promise.”