Oneshot, TatsurouxDaisuke: Corruption [1/2]
Title: Corruption
Bands: MUCC, Daisuke to Kuro no Injatachi/the studs/Kagerou, Dir en grey, Merry, some Wataru (12012), Satsuki (Rentrer en Soi) and D’espairsRay.
Pairing: TatsurouxDaisuke; ninja!KyoxGara
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~13,000
Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me, I’m making no money out of this, nor do I claim any of it to be true.
Summary: The scent filling his nostrils is supposed to make him feel better, it’s supposed to fill him somehow, but it only adds to the pain. Still, he wonders how long it’s going to last, if he’ll be able to feel it every morning, if by the end of 49 days it will also disappear from his senses.
Warning: This story deals with Daisuke's death. If you're not sure you can handle this, or if you feel offended by me writing a story about it, then you'd better not read this.
A/N:
>> The title is a translation for MUCC’s Daraku, from their album Karma, which came out last October. The lyrics that appear later on the story are from that song. The link will lead you to the song in case you want to hear it while reading this.
>> The story also has some references to FUZZ (another story of mine), like Daisuke’s obsession with Tatsurou’s hair and the games they (used to) play with each other, but you don’t need to read FUZZ before reading this.
>> Scenes narrated in the past are memories and are totally out of chronological order, as opposed to the scenes narrated in the present, which is when the story takes place.
XXX
Corruption
[Part 1/2]
XXX
Tatsurou felt some heavy weight all over his body as he opened his eyes, but trying to move made him realize that it was actually another body stretched over and around his own. He looked down only to see a bunch of silky black hair spread on his chest, and the smile came to his lips before he could even think about it.
He managed to lift one hand up and drag it through some of the dark locks, softly so as not to wake the other up. They both must not have been asleep for long, or they wouldn’t be in this position anymore. They had gone to bed when the night was almost over and the darkness that remained now was already becoming light. The pair of them had had dinner with a group of friends, played some games with them and by themselves after the others had left, and then they had fallen asleep like that.
It was comfortable to be like this before sleeping and for some minutes afterwards, but now he needed to change that and move his limbs a little bit. He didn’t want to wake his lover up, though, nor did he want to get rid of the warmth and rightness brought by every single inch of skin where they touched.
“Dai,” he breathed, softly tugging at his hair before caressing his neck. Daisuke stirred slightly; Tatsurou felt him breathing and shivered pleasantly, the same way Daisuke hummed and moved as if wanting to get even closer, though that would be hard.
Well.
The fact that they were wearing only underpants hadn’t really crossed his mind until then, but Tatsurou knew his body was quick to react to Daisuke, especially when they were in such a position. Then Daisuke moved one or two inches up, his face coming into view, and at once Tatsurou got that their hips aligning perfectly wasn’t any coincidence. He snorted for half a second before falling prey to Daisuke’s mischievous smile and glinting eyes, which traced his features like a touch.
“How long have you been awake, huh?”
Daisuke just moved again, stretching his body up, proceeding to straddle Tatsurou when he put his hands on both sides of the latter’s face to support his weight. “Long enough to know you’re very awake, too.” His voice sounded as suggestive as his raised eyebrow.
Tatsurou’s grunt was an appraising one, the answer that Daisuke had seemed to want to hear. The younger vocalist took advantage of the fact that his hand was still on the other’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Daisuke complied, but reached across the bed for something a second later, and then they were eating candy.
“Morning breath,” he told Tatsurou, not that it was necessary-they usually kept stuff like that close by for moments like this. However, Tatsurou’s mind was still clogged from sleep, so he welcomed the explanation just like he did Daisuke’s hands coming down his shoulders, arms and torso. He also thanked him by sliding his own hands along Daisuke’s back, up and down and even downer. Then they were saying ‘good morning’ to each other by actually having a really good one.
XXX
The alarm has been ringing for a long time when he finally reaches an arm across the bed and slaps it off with a grunt. His eyes are firmly closed, and he wants to pretend that he doesn’t feel the emptiness of the bed. His head sinks in further on the pillow and he rubs his face in, takes a deep breath and almost chokes, but he won’t cry. The scent filling his nostrils is supposed to make him feel better, it’s supposed to fill him somehow, but it only adds to the pain. Still, he wonders how long it’s going to last, if he’ll be able to feel it every morning, if by the end of 49 days it will also disappear from his senses.
He still has 42 days to go.
He breathes in deeply again, this time to try and keep calm. He finally opens his eyes up, gathering strength from God-knows-where to get up and off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom. He holds on to the sink for support, exhales a deep sigh and finally lifts his face to look at himself in the mirror.
Tatsurou is a mess. His hair is too long, completely dehydrated, frizzy and overly bushy, the worst ever since the zekuu days. He’s not sure about the comparison, but he’s sure that’s what Daisuke would say.
Though he tries to sleep as much as he can, there are bags under his eyes. He wants to dream about Daisuke forever, but remembering him before falling asleep usually backfires and he ends up crying, unable to stop the whirlwind of memories every time he closes his eyes.
His mustache is a joke. It used to be, at least. He would rub it on Daisuke’s cheeks or neck-or any portion of skin available-just to tease him, which could either make him angry or laugh, or both. Then he would force Tatsurou to shave it all off, and three days later Daisuke would go mad because the other was letting it grow again.
Tatsurou flares his nostrils and refuses to give in to the pain.
“How can you smile so easily?” Gara had asked him, trying not to sound accusatory and failing miserably. “How can you make jokes, go out with the guys to have fun, talk about him so openly and-and-” he swallowed, then tried to speak again. But he had to turn his back to Tatsurou, who noticed how he wiped something off his face. “Damn it, Tatsurou. I thought…I had problems dealing with this. But do you even realize what happened?” Gara faced him again, this time unable to hide the sadness drawing his expression. “I want to help you, because you need it, but I don’t know how.”
Gara was right, yet Tatsurou said he didn’t need help. He didn’t. He still doesn’t, because he knows what he’s doing and Daisuke knows it, too, and that’s what matters. He’ll be able to explain it to Gara later, when it’s all over and they can be sad together.
But not now.
Now he needs to be strong. Daisuke is still out there, somewhere, and Tatsurou can’t disappoint him. He needs to smile and make jokes and have fun with their friends so that Daisuke won’t worry about them, especially not him. He needs to try and enjoy what’s good, or at least look and sound like he’s doing so. He needs to live one day after the other, not as if it is the last day of his life, but as if it is the last day of Daisuke on Earth, and the time for that is running out indeed.
He can’t be too strong, however. Daisuke needs to know that Tatsurou still cares about him-oh, so fucking much-and that Tatsurou is a mess without him, since Daisuke has always been his better half. So his hair must be the most horrible thing ever, cause it’s always Daisuke who complains about it and screams at him for not taking care of it. It’s Daisuke who scratches his nails against the stubs on Tatsurou’s face just to make a point. It’s Daisuke who sometimes kicks him out of bed when Tatsurou’s being lazy, because the latter always oversleeps when the former is not there.
He needs to dream, because then he can join Daisuke and see him smiling again, or laugh with him, or just hold him and stay right next to him.
And he needs to remember-remember the good things to keep on smiling, to be strong, to feel Daisuke’s scent just by closing his eyes.
XXX
“You know what we could do?”
“Hmmm?”
“We could take a vacation together. Or you could come with us for the next tour, and-”
“I don’t think that would work.”
“Why not?”
“For many reasons, like the fans finding out, and the fact that you won’t really have time for me, and Miya might not like it if you get too distracted.”
“You are no fun.”
“So much for invinting me to come along.”
“Tsk. And that vacation idea?”
“Please elaborate.”
“We could take the first weeks of January off and go somewhere warm, I don’t know, like the beach in a southern country or something.”
“Uh-huh…You don’t have any concerts coming up? What about that new album you’re planning to release in October?”
“I’m sure we can manage that. And hey, you are also supposed to release something, huh?”
“Maybe…I’m not sure I’ll have a full album by the end of the year.”
“Nahh, quit pretending your stuff isn’t great already. Even Kyo said so, and it’s one of the few things we do agree on.”
“You two are just sucking up to me.”
“Well, I could be doing that right now, but as for Kyo-”
“Oh shush it.” A chuckle, a kiss and a contented sigh. “Now, it sounds like you want to make plans. But we’re still in June.”
“It’ll be December before you know it.”
A pause. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
A playful slap on the arm. Another chuckle, a deeper kiss. A moan, a gasp and a mutual thrust.
“How about we take this weekend off?”
“I think…” He needed a moment to actually think about it. Didn’t work. “It’s time to take something else off, Tatsu.”
XXX
They actually took that weekend off-in June-and went to the beach. Those were some of the last days they got to spend together; soon Daisuke had another concert, the one where he got injured, and then…
Tatsurou breathes in, breathes out, and grips at the dark sand beneath him, even though it doesn’t offer much support. He’s here to remember the good things, to celebrate Daisuke’s birthday, and not drown in the sorrowful thoughts he swore to himself he would leave at home.
He still has 33 days.
The midsummer night is cool and there’s almost no sound coming from either the sea or the shore. When he and Daisuke went away, they chose one of the most desert beaches near Tokyo, so that there would be no one to bother them and nothing to worry about.
Well, Tatsurou was attacked by some damn jellyfish and had Daisuke laughing at the scandal he made from the pain, but that’s one of the moments that brings a fond smile to Tatsurou’s face, even now. They also forgot to bring both of their mobile phone chargers, and there was nowhere to buy that on a Saturday evening, at least not in the vicinity. Daisuke had lots of calls waiting for him when they got back home the following Monday, and Tatsurou was blamed for distracting him when they were packing their stuff for the short trip. He certainly couldn’t deny that, and the smirk on his face didn’t leave him room to.
He hears the rustle of clothing from behind him and waits; he’s acknowledged the other’s presence for a long time now. “Come on, sheep,” he whispers, and seconds later Gara is sitting by his side, one bottle of beer at his feet and another handed to Tatsurou.
The sea comes and goes, each time a little closer to their bare feet, and Tatsurou thinks the silence between them is not as uncomfortable as he forethought. He brings the bottle to his lips, but Gara dabs at his hand and shakes his head, as if reprimanding him for something.
“We should make a toast first, you know.”
He stands up before Tatsurou can say something, though it would have been hard for him to say anything while he feels the weight of the words settling between them. He manages to stand up before Gara can think of kicking him into doing it, though.
A solemn look crosses Gara’s features when their eyes meet, and Tatsurou coughs, feeling awkward in spite of himself. He’s about to ask if Gara wants him to start, but he’s surprised by what he hears first.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are at least as heavy as the other ones; Gara’s certainly not one to waste his voice, and Tatsurou knows before hearing the rest that this is about their last argument. He considers the apology unnecessary, but welcomes it, if this is Gara’s way of making things a little bit easier for both of them.
“You have the right to deal with this your own way, and-I know it’s hard. I know you must be suffering, but… I guess I was expecting you to show it instead of doing what I usually do.”
“Of course you mean ‘hiding’ and not ‘being a dork.’”
Gara rehearses a smile, but it comes out bitter. He nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “If you feel like talking…”
Tatsurou nods. “I know.”
Gara holds his bottle up and Tatsurou does the same. “To Daisuke-”
“Loved, admired, and deeply missed.” The older one frowns upon his words, and Tatsurou just shrugs. The bottles click gently against one another, but Gara shakes his head, disgruntled.
“That doesn’t sound right. Maybe we should go back inside and have the others make a toast, too.”
“What, you expect me to say something funny?”
Gara rolls his eyes at him. “No, just-he deserves better.”
Tatsurou doesn’t answer. He has to agree with that.
There’s a quiet voice coming from behind Gara and they turn to see Kyo approaching, a small piece of paper in his left hand. He nods at Tatsurou and takes Gara’s hand in his free one, squeezing it for a second before letting go. “Daisuke deserves something better than what any of us can provide,” he states, a deep frown crossing his features for a second. “But I want to say something, anyway.”
Gara looks at Kyo, then at Tatsurou, and the latter motions for the so-called Prophet to go on. Kyo clears his throat, looks at his companions once more and then reads, his voice gentle as the words come out slowly, powerfully. The truth in them echoes in the minds of the three vocalists.
“And alien tears will fall for him
Pity’s long-broken urn
For his mourners will be outcast men
And outcasts always mourn.”
A long silence follows. Tatsurou gazes at the sea, the water looking as calm as he would like to feel. He hears the soft sound of Gara putting an arm around Kyo’s shoulders before resting their heads together. Tatsurou notices Kyo’s stare on him, but keeps looking at the horizon. Oscar Wilde’s wisdom continues echoing in him, the words like silent waves coming closer and closer to his core.
XXX
Tatsurou didn’t know whether to get angry, worried, sad-or even if he should feel proud for Daisuke’s courage to say what he did in the interview he had just finished reading. He ended up having a rollercoaster of emotions, and maybe that’s why he basically attacked Daisuke and ravished him against the nearest wall as soon as he entered the other’s apartment. Surprised, Daisuke tried to resist him at first and mumbled something, but the force of the kiss silenced him and made him cave easily. Tatsurou tried to stop and actually talk about what was eating him inside, but the words made him choke and Daisuke was pulling at his hair and practically humping him already. He pressed the brunette harder against the wall and unzipped his pants, enjoying the way Daisuke dropped his head back and moaned as soon as Tatsurou’s hands were on him.
He took advantage of his lover’s exposed neck to lick and bite the skin while Daisuke thrust into his hand, his nails digging into Tatsurou’s shoulders and arms for support. When he paused-just to open his own pants-Daisuke scratched him in protest. He also attempted to say something again, but was cut off by Tatsurou lifting him up and pressing against him. Then it was all incoherence and breathless noises as Tatsurou entered him and their bodies moved together, impossibly close, waves of heat building up and coming over them with increasing strength. Daisuke embraced Tatsurou with his legs and arms, tugging at the overly long hair and marking his neck and back as they rocked faster and faster. Messy kisses and meaningless whispers were shared in between gasps and shaky breathing. Then Daisuke went still around him, and seconds later Tatsurou felt the same, pleasure in its highest form making them collapse to the floor and just stay like that, Daisuke on top of Tatsurou as the latter caressed his back almost absentmindedly.
“Well…hello there,” Daisuke half laughed against his neck, making him smile for a second. “Are we in a rush or something?”
Tatsurou shook his head slowly, and took a long time to speak. He moved so that they were sitting, Daisuke straddling his lap, and they stared at each other as Tatsurou dragged a hand through his lover’s hair and slid the fingers down his face. “You’re so…so beautiful.”
Daisuke would have teased him for that, but he must have sensed something, for he opened his mouth and didn’t utter a word. Tatsurou suspected his own eyes were probably giving his thoughts away-as much as he meant the compliment, it was not what he really wanted to say.
“Dai, I’m-I’m sorry for asking this, but I have to.” He paused. “Please tell me you’re not gonna kill yourself.”
For a brief second, it looked like Daisuke was going to laugh it off or try to deny it. Then he bit into his lower lip and remained silent.
Tatsurou felt like he was swallowing sharp knives as he looked at the other. “I read…” another pause, but Daisuke didn’t need him to finish that. The latest edition of Rock and Read had just come out and it was the only source Tatsurou could have taken that from.
“I’m not-I mean…” he paused, shook his head, and the look he gave Tatsurou just then cut through him. “I can’t promise you that.”
“What?” Tatsurou would have gone on to an endless raging fit if he weren’t too shaken by what he had just heard.
“I’m sorry,” Daisuke rested their foreheads together and held Tatsurou’s hands, still on his neck. Tatsurou returned it with a firm grip, hoping this would do for what he didn’t have the words to express. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s not as if I’m planning on doing it, cause I’m not. I don’t want to leave you. It’s just-something that’s crossed my mind a few times…”
“Why? When? Why did you never tell me?”
Daisuke closed his eyes as if the despair in Tatsurou’s gaze was too much to bear. “Because I didn’t want to see you like this. And because when I’m with you, I don’t really think about it.”
“So I’m never gonna leave you alone.”
Daisuke smiled softly at his naivety. “You can’t really do that.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure you don’t think about it when I’m not around.”
XXX
“I lost him.”
Kyo looks at him from the corner of his eyes and sighs. “We all did.”
“No, I mean-I lost him. Somewhere along the way, I could have saved him. I just didn’t know how.”
Kyo turns to face him and frowns. Tatsurou has had one drink too many, but his words still make some sense. That’s not the matter, though-it’s what he might be thinking that bothers Kyo. “What are you talking about?”
Tatsurou exhales deeply and closes his eyes. The two vocalists are alone at Dir en grey’s recording studio, and instead of going out with the rest of the band like Kaoru suggested, Kyo preferred to stay and hear whatever Tatsurou wanted to say to him, even if the latter drinks alcohol-that he brought himself with the excuse that this would make Dir en grey’s new songs easier to enjoy-while the former savors some cold green tea. Both of them were a little surprised at finding some kind of comfort in each other’s company, though they’ve known each other for many years. Tatsurou also knows Kyo is not the type to be bothered by his out-of-character silence, so he takes his time to weigh the words. “Did he ever talk to you about-suicide?”
Kyo looks down for a moment, and Tatsurou doesn’t know what to think of that, nor of his retort. “Who’s never thought about it?”
He shakes his head, swallows a huge gulp of beer and stares intently at the no-longer-blond next to him. “I’m not judging him. Or you.” He looks pointedly at Kyo, who shrugs dismissively. “I’m just wondering.”
“If he did it?” They’re both silent for a long time. “Sometimes…I prefer to think he did.”
That’s something Tatsurou hasn’t expected to hear. “Come again?”
Kyo sighs once more, drinks some of his tea and tries not to think about the bed waiting for him at home. “It wouldn’t be fair if his life had been taken from him that way, especially now. He was fighting, he had a lot of plans, and I don’t want to believe some stupid force above us decided that now was the time for him to go if he didn’t want to.”
“What if it was an accident?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
Tatsurou’s lack of understanding for that makes him go for another dose of alcohol. “But doesn’t it make you angry?”
“That he chose to end his life? Yes.”
“Don’t say it like that, as if you were so sure.”
“I know you prefer to think it was an accident.”
The younger vocalist closes his eyes, and his nod is unnecessary. “Funny enough, for the same reasons you prefer to think it was not. He was fighting. He had a lot of plans. He couldn’t-he wouldn’t give up like that.”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
“I don’t even know if I want to.”
Kyo’s sigh is the heaviest so far, and his smile is bitter. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”
“I have-”
“Fuck off, you know I don’t smoke anymore.”
Tatsurou doesn’t understand that either, and Kyo doesn’t seem to care. So he just manages a dead smile and goes back to drinking.
He still has 25 days to go.
XXX
“Where are you going?”
“Backstage, of course.”
“He’s probably getting ready for the concert right now.”
“Roses are red, violets are blue, what’s your point?”
“He needs to concentrate.”
“The hell! It’s not his first time on stage, Gara.”
“Oh really. But it’s his first time solo.”
“No, Feeldstage was his first time solo.”
“But that was a play, Tatsurou. This is different.”
“I think the play must have been much harder. He’s not used to acting. But singing? Pfft.”
“Could you two just shut it? Gara, he’s not listening to you. Tatsurou, just go there and make out with Daisuke or-whatever. I’m sure Dai will like it, though I don’t see why.”
“Uh-thanks, Kyo-san. I guess.”
“No problem. Now get outta here.”
x
Daisuke looked at him through the mirror when Tatsurou entered the dressing room, closing the door behind him quietly. “Hey, you.” There was a knowing smile on his face, and it only widened as the younger one approached him. By the time Tatsurou got to the makeup desk, Daisuke had stood up, but he didn’t turn around-he just welcomed his lover’s embrace from behind and sighed when Tatsurou treated him to sniffing his neck until Daisuke got some nice goose bumps.
“Hey. ‘Thought you might need some reassurance before facing the crowd.”
Daisuke rolled his eyes at him, which only made Tatsurou press their bodies closer together. “Yeah, right. You just want an excuse to check if I’m wearing that perfume you seem to like so much.”
Tatsurou chuckled against his ear and proceeded to rub his nose behind it, almost breathing against his hair. “That, too.”
Daisuke’s sigh was a tad deeper this time, nearly a hiss.
“You’ve got too many clothes on.”
“Well, it is almost time for me to go on stage, so you and I are not doing anything until after the concert.”
Tatsurou pouted, fighting the desire to bury his head in Daisuke’s hair. He’d be damned if he messed the dark locks up right now, so he opted for nuzzling Daisuke’s neck again.
“Truth or dare?”
Tatsurou smiled, endeared by the other’s sudden proposal. After all those years, playing with each other in the most random moments had become some kind of tradition for them. “Truth.”
“I’m a little nervous. But just a little bit.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t!”
“‘course I do.”
Daisuke slapped his arm.
“Eh! What was that for?”
“Don’t act as a know-it-all around me. You don’t know anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
Daisuke smiled again. “Your turn.”
“I want you.”
“I didn’t even say if you should-”
“Fuck you now?”
“That’s not what I’d dare you to do either. It’s not as if you need the challenge, anyway.”
“Right.”
“Hn. Mind if we continue this later?”
“Anything you say, babeh.”
“Seriously.”
“I’m serious.”
Daisuke scoffed.
XXX
“Doesn’t it bother you? That we don’t have a grave to visit? That he can’t be buried because there’s no space for that, and that we can’t go and bring flowers to him every year, or when we feel like doing it?”
After taking a moment to think, Tatsurou nods. He can’t say anything because he’s trying to ignore the way his eyes burn every time he sees another fan of Daisuke’s placing a flower, sometimes a card on the table in front of one of the huge pictures of him. There are far too many people here, which makes him glad for Daisuke, but at the same time he feels uncomfortable. He’s been grieving alone for days-weeks-, and attending a Memorial for thousands of fans is affecting him in ways he didn’t expect. He’s wearing sunglasses and a hat just like Yukke is, but he’s noticed some people whispering and staring, most likely recognizing them. Satochi and Miya have also come and talked to them for a while, as well as the guys from Kagerou, the studs, Dir en grey, D’espairsRay, Girugamesh, and many others. They decided not to stay all bundled together or they would attract too much attention, although it can’t be helped much with so many of them around. Now and then Tatsurou sees Shuu and Satoshi in a corner, or Kazu and Yuana talking to aie... Shizumi has stayed for a short time before leaving, and Tatsurou doesn’t blame him. He once spotted who he thought was Kyo, and he’s almost sure he saw Gara somewhere near the midget. Neither one has come to talk to him yet, and he’s almost regretting his decision to pair up with Yukke for this-he’s thankful for the other’s concern and he knows the bassist is suffering, too, but he talks a lot. Tatsurou knows he doesn’t have any right to complain, but Yukke’s questions make him think too much, and he’s tired of all those What If’s. Even if Miya would offer awkward silences and Satochi would say meaningless comforting words once or twice, at least he wouldn’t have to think so much.
He regrets those very thoughts the moment he sees Yukke looking at him, the worry not concealable by the glasses he’s wearing.
“You didn’t hear my last question, did you?”
Tatsurou holds back a sigh and shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“Nah, it’s okay.”
Tatsurou punches his shoulder-or, actually, puts his fist against the fabric of Yukke’s suit, so light his fake punch is. “Come on, ask it again.”
Yukke offers him a fleeting smile before turning serious. “Did they-I mean, Daisuke’s family-did they burn-”
Tatsurou spares him the trouble of finding the right way to ask that; there are probably no right words for such a question. “Yes, they did it already.”
Yukke sighs, nods and looks across the venue-the Memorial’s being held at ZEPP TOKYO. “Is that Hizumi?”
He tries to look in the same direction as the other and nods after a while. “I guess. Do you want to go there?”
“I want to know if you kept the ashes.”
Tatsurou would have spitted if he were drinking something. As it is, he just looks like a fish for a second, but he’s quick to straighten up-he has to keep in mind not to behave as if he wanted people to look at him. “His parents did, of course.”
“But couldn’t you keep, like, at least part of it?”
“Are you crazy? No, I know you are. The question is; how much did you drink before coming here?”
“I didn’t. I also didn’t think you’d get so flustered about this.”
Tatsurou starts at that, but he still gets exasperated. “I can’t just-take a portion of his ashes like that, don’t you see?”
“Okay, okay, it was a stupid question.”
“I mean, it would be weird-like getting a part of his body, or small parts of different parts, and-”
“I get it!”
Tatsurou nods. “Good.”
Yukke sighs audibly next to him and remains silent for a minute or so. “Look, I just-I’m worried about you, okay. I talked to Gara about it and he agrees that you’re-”
“I talked to Gara, too, and if I remember correctly, he said he understands.”
Yukke sighs again. “He’s still worried, though.”
“You two should stop worrying, then. I know what I’m doing.”
“And just what the hell are you doing?”
Tatsurou takes a deep breath and tries to think of a suitable answer. He doesn’t really want to talk about this, because it will only raise more questions, and he’s afraid he won’t be able to keep his façade in front of Yukke once the bassist gets to know what’s behind it. But at the same time, he doesn’t want the other to keep worrying so much, and deep down he feels guilty. Maybe he owns Yukke some honesty.
“I’m living the last days of Daisuke on Earth.”
Yukke looks a little shocked at first, but then his face changes into some of comprehension. “Are you talking about the same thing we did one month ago, when we went out with Karyu, Wataru, and-”
“Yes, when a bunch of us went out and drank our asses off as a tribute to Daisuke. We got a glass of beer for him, too, and we talked about him all night.”
The bassist looks at him for some time. “That was just some hours after we got to know about it.”
Tatsurou swallows. “I was trying not to focus on that. Don’t-” he interrupts Yukke before he has a chance to speak, “you don’t need to apologize.”
“So… you’re counting down the days until his spirit vanishes forever?”
“Something like that…” he chooses not to explain it further for now.
“So you still have-17 days?”
And Tatsurou realizes that hearing it from somebody else is much harder than saying it to himself.
Yukke doesn’t wait for him to answer-thankfully, for although it should be simple, Tatsurou’s got a huge lump in his throat right now. “We should do it again-like, get everybody together and remember the good times.”
Tatsurou side eyes him. “We did that on his birthday.”
“I know, but your birthday’s coming up.”
“I’m not going to have a party.”
Yukke looks like he’s about to call him names, but he checks himself in time. “Think of it as a way to relieve some of the pain and-pay some kind of homage to Daisuke, even if it’s bittersweet. He deserves that, and you deserve it, too.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Yukke curses under his breath. “If there weren’t so many people around us, I’d have slapped your head a lot of times by now.”
“Yeah, cause I’m so afraid of that.”
Tatsurou’s teasing actually makes Yukke smile. “Oh, you still got it! Good to see your sense of humor hasn’t disappeared yet.”
XXX
[ Part 2/2]
XXX
To read my other stories, click here.
Bands: MUCC, Daisuke to Kuro no Injatachi/the studs/Kagerou, Dir en grey, Merry, some Wataru (12012), Satsuki (Rentrer en Soi) and D’espairsRay.
Pairing: TatsurouxDaisuke; ninja!KyoxGara
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~13,000
Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me, I’m making no money out of this, nor do I claim any of it to be true.
Summary: The scent filling his nostrils is supposed to make him feel better, it’s supposed to fill him somehow, but it only adds to the pain. Still, he wonders how long it’s going to last, if he’ll be able to feel it every morning, if by the end of 49 days it will also disappear from his senses.
Warning: This story deals with Daisuke's death. If you're not sure you can handle this, or if you feel offended by me writing a story about it, then you'd better not read this.
A/N:
>> The title is a translation for MUCC’s Daraku, from their album Karma, which came out last October. The lyrics that appear later on the story are from that song. The link will lead you to the song in case you want to hear it while reading this.
>> The story also has some references to FUZZ (another story of mine), like Daisuke’s obsession with Tatsurou’s hair and the games they (used to) play with each other, but you don’t need to read FUZZ before reading this.
>> Scenes narrated in the past are memories and are totally out of chronological order, as opposed to the scenes narrated in the present, which is when the story takes place.
XXX
Corruption
[Part 1/2]
XXX
Tatsurou felt some heavy weight all over his body as he opened his eyes, but trying to move made him realize that it was actually another body stretched over and around his own. He looked down only to see a bunch of silky black hair spread on his chest, and the smile came to his lips before he could even think about it.
He managed to lift one hand up and drag it through some of the dark locks, softly so as not to wake the other up. They both must not have been asleep for long, or they wouldn’t be in this position anymore. They had gone to bed when the night was almost over and the darkness that remained now was already becoming light. The pair of them had had dinner with a group of friends, played some games with them and by themselves after the others had left, and then they had fallen asleep like that.
It was comfortable to be like this before sleeping and for some minutes afterwards, but now he needed to change that and move his limbs a little bit. He didn’t want to wake his lover up, though, nor did he want to get rid of the warmth and rightness brought by every single inch of skin where they touched.
“Dai,” he breathed, softly tugging at his hair before caressing his neck. Daisuke stirred slightly; Tatsurou felt him breathing and shivered pleasantly, the same way Daisuke hummed and moved as if wanting to get even closer, though that would be hard.
Well.
The fact that they were wearing only underpants hadn’t really crossed his mind until then, but Tatsurou knew his body was quick to react to Daisuke, especially when they were in such a position. Then Daisuke moved one or two inches up, his face coming into view, and at once Tatsurou got that their hips aligning perfectly wasn’t any coincidence. He snorted for half a second before falling prey to Daisuke’s mischievous smile and glinting eyes, which traced his features like a touch.
“How long have you been awake, huh?”
Daisuke just moved again, stretching his body up, proceeding to straddle Tatsurou when he put his hands on both sides of the latter’s face to support his weight. “Long enough to know you’re very awake, too.” His voice sounded as suggestive as his raised eyebrow.
Tatsurou’s grunt was an appraising one, the answer that Daisuke had seemed to want to hear. The younger vocalist took advantage of the fact that his hand was still on the other’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Daisuke complied, but reached across the bed for something a second later, and then they were eating candy.
“Morning breath,” he told Tatsurou, not that it was necessary-they usually kept stuff like that close by for moments like this. However, Tatsurou’s mind was still clogged from sleep, so he welcomed the explanation just like he did Daisuke’s hands coming down his shoulders, arms and torso. He also thanked him by sliding his own hands along Daisuke’s back, up and down and even downer. Then they were saying ‘good morning’ to each other by actually having a really good one.
XXX
The alarm has been ringing for a long time when he finally reaches an arm across the bed and slaps it off with a grunt. His eyes are firmly closed, and he wants to pretend that he doesn’t feel the emptiness of the bed. His head sinks in further on the pillow and he rubs his face in, takes a deep breath and almost chokes, but he won’t cry. The scent filling his nostrils is supposed to make him feel better, it’s supposed to fill him somehow, but it only adds to the pain. Still, he wonders how long it’s going to last, if he’ll be able to feel it every morning, if by the end of 49 days it will also disappear from his senses.
He still has 42 days to go.
He breathes in deeply again, this time to try and keep calm. He finally opens his eyes up, gathering strength from God-knows-where to get up and off the bed, dragging his body to the bathroom. He holds on to the sink for support, exhales a deep sigh and finally lifts his face to look at himself in the mirror.
Tatsurou is a mess. His hair is too long, completely dehydrated, frizzy and overly bushy, the worst ever since the zekuu days. He’s not sure about the comparison, but he’s sure that’s what Daisuke would say.
Though he tries to sleep as much as he can, there are bags under his eyes. He wants to dream about Daisuke forever, but remembering him before falling asleep usually backfires and he ends up crying, unable to stop the whirlwind of memories every time he closes his eyes.
His mustache is a joke. It used to be, at least. He would rub it on Daisuke’s cheeks or neck-or any portion of skin available-just to tease him, which could either make him angry or laugh, or both. Then he would force Tatsurou to shave it all off, and three days later Daisuke would go mad because the other was letting it grow again.
Tatsurou flares his nostrils and refuses to give in to the pain.
“How can you smile so easily?” Gara had asked him, trying not to sound accusatory and failing miserably. “How can you make jokes, go out with the guys to have fun, talk about him so openly and-and-” he swallowed, then tried to speak again. But he had to turn his back to Tatsurou, who noticed how he wiped something off his face. “Damn it, Tatsurou. I thought…I had problems dealing with this. But do you even realize what happened?” Gara faced him again, this time unable to hide the sadness drawing his expression. “I want to help you, because you need it, but I don’t know how.”
Gara was right, yet Tatsurou said he didn’t need help. He didn’t. He still doesn’t, because he knows what he’s doing and Daisuke knows it, too, and that’s what matters. He’ll be able to explain it to Gara later, when it’s all over and they can be sad together.
But not now.
Now he needs to be strong. Daisuke is still out there, somewhere, and Tatsurou can’t disappoint him. He needs to smile and make jokes and have fun with their friends so that Daisuke won’t worry about them, especially not him. He needs to try and enjoy what’s good, or at least look and sound like he’s doing so. He needs to live one day after the other, not as if it is the last day of his life, but as if it is the last day of Daisuke on Earth, and the time for that is running out indeed.
He can’t be too strong, however. Daisuke needs to know that Tatsurou still cares about him-oh, so fucking much-and that Tatsurou is a mess without him, since Daisuke has always been his better half. So his hair must be the most horrible thing ever, cause it’s always Daisuke who complains about it and screams at him for not taking care of it. It’s Daisuke who scratches his nails against the stubs on Tatsurou’s face just to make a point. It’s Daisuke who sometimes kicks him out of bed when Tatsurou’s being lazy, because the latter always oversleeps when the former is not there.
He needs to dream, because then he can join Daisuke and see him smiling again, or laugh with him, or just hold him and stay right next to him.
And he needs to remember-remember the good things to keep on smiling, to be strong, to feel Daisuke’s scent just by closing his eyes.
XXX
“You know what we could do?”
“Hmmm?”
“We could take a vacation together. Or you could come with us for the next tour, and-”
“I don’t think that would work.”
“Why not?”
“For many reasons, like the fans finding out, and the fact that you won’t really have time for me, and Miya might not like it if you get too distracted.”
“You are no fun.”
“So much for invinting me to come along.”
“Tsk. And that vacation idea?”
“Please elaborate.”
“We could take the first weeks of January off and go somewhere warm, I don’t know, like the beach in a southern country or something.”
“Uh-huh…You don’t have any concerts coming up? What about that new album you’re planning to release in October?”
“I’m sure we can manage that. And hey, you are also supposed to release something, huh?”
“Maybe…I’m not sure I’ll have a full album by the end of the year.”
“Nahh, quit pretending your stuff isn’t great already. Even Kyo said so, and it’s one of the few things we do agree on.”
“You two are just sucking up to me.”
“Well, I could be doing that right now, but as for Kyo-”
“Oh shush it.” A chuckle, a kiss and a contented sigh. “Now, it sounds like you want to make plans. But we’re still in June.”
“It’ll be December before you know it.”
A pause. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
A playful slap on the arm. Another chuckle, a deeper kiss. A moan, a gasp and a mutual thrust.
“How about we take this weekend off?”
“I think…” He needed a moment to actually think about it. Didn’t work. “It’s time to take something else off, Tatsu.”
XXX
They actually took that weekend off-in June-and went to the beach. Those were some of the last days they got to spend together; soon Daisuke had another concert, the one where he got injured, and then…
Tatsurou breathes in, breathes out, and grips at the dark sand beneath him, even though it doesn’t offer much support. He’s here to remember the good things, to celebrate Daisuke’s birthday, and not drown in the sorrowful thoughts he swore to himself he would leave at home.
He still has 33 days.
The midsummer night is cool and there’s almost no sound coming from either the sea or the shore. When he and Daisuke went away, they chose one of the most desert beaches near Tokyo, so that there would be no one to bother them and nothing to worry about.
Well, Tatsurou was attacked by some damn jellyfish and had Daisuke laughing at the scandal he made from the pain, but that’s one of the moments that brings a fond smile to Tatsurou’s face, even now. They also forgot to bring both of their mobile phone chargers, and there was nowhere to buy that on a Saturday evening, at least not in the vicinity. Daisuke had lots of calls waiting for him when they got back home the following Monday, and Tatsurou was blamed for distracting him when they were packing their stuff for the short trip. He certainly couldn’t deny that, and the smirk on his face didn’t leave him room to.
He hears the rustle of clothing from behind him and waits; he’s acknowledged the other’s presence for a long time now. “Come on, sheep,” he whispers, and seconds later Gara is sitting by his side, one bottle of beer at his feet and another handed to Tatsurou.
The sea comes and goes, each time a little closer to their bare feet, and Tatsurou thinks the silence between them is not as uncomfortable as he forethought. He brings the bottle to his lips, but Gara dabs at his hand and shakes his head, as if reprimanding him for something.
“We should make a toast first, you know.”
He stands up before Tatsurou can say something, though it would have been hard for him to say anything while he feels the weight of the words settling between them. He manages to stand up before Gara can think of kicking him into doing it, though.
A solemn look crosses Gara’s features when their eyes meet, and Tatsurou coughs, feeling awkward in spite of himself. He’s about to ask if Gara wants him to start, but he’s surprised by what he hears first.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are at least as heavy as the other ones; Gara’s certainly not one to waste his voice, and Tatsurou knows before hearing the rest that this is about their last argument. He considers the apology unnecessary, but welcomes it, if this is Gara’s way of making things a little bit easier for both of them.
“You have the right to deal with this your own way, and-I know it’s hard. I know you must be suffering, but… I guess I was expecting you to show it instead of doing what I usually do.”
“Of course you mean ‘hiding’ and not ‘being a dork.’”
Gara rehearses a smile, but it comes out bitter. He nods and lets out a heavy sigh. “If you feel like talking…”
Tatsurou nods. “I know.”
Gara holds his bottle up and Tatsurou does the same. “To Daisuke-”
“Loved, admired, and deeply missed.” The older one frowns upon his words, and Tatsurou just shrugs. The bottles click gently against one another, but Gara shakes his head, disgruntled.
“That doesn’t sound right. Maybe we should go back inside and have the others make a toast, too.”
“What, you expect me to say something funny?”
Gara rolls his eyes at him. “No, just-he deserves better.”
Tatsurou doesn’t answer. He has to agree with that.
There’s a quiet voice coming from behind Gara and they turn to see Kyo approaching, a small piece of paper in his left hand. He nods at Tatsurou and takes Gara’s hand in his free one, squeezing it for a second before letting go. “Daisuke deserves something better than what any of us can provide,” he states, a deep frown crossing his features for a second. “But I want to say something, anyway.”
Gara looks at Kyo, then at Tatsurou, and the latter motions for the so-called Prophet to go on. Kyo clears his throat, looks at his companions once more and then reads, his voice gentle as the words come out slowly, powerfully. The truth in them echoes in the minds of the three vocalists.
“And alien tears will fall for him
Pity’s long-broken urn
For his mourners will be outcast men
And outcasts always mourn.”
A long silence follows. Tatsurou gazes at the sea, the water looking as calm as he would like to feel. He hears the soft sound of Gara putting an arm around Kyo’s shoulders before resting their heads together. Tatsurou notices Kyo’s stare on him, but keeps looking at the horizon. Oscar Wilde’s wisdom continues echoing in him, the words like silent waves coming closer and closer to his core.
XXX
Tatsurou didn’t know whether to get angry, worried, sad-or even if he should feel proud for Daisuke’s courage to say what he did in the interview he had just finished reading. He ended up having a rollercoaster of emotions, and maybe that’s why he basically attacked Daisuke and ravished him against the nearest wall as soon as he entered the other’s apartment. Surprised, Daisuke tried to resist him at first and mumbled something, but the force of the kiss silenced him and made him cave easily. Tatsurou tried to stop and actually talk about what was eating him inside, but the words made him choke and Daisuke was pulling at his hair and practically humping him already. He pressed the brunette harder against the wall and unzipped his pants, enjoying the way Daisuke dropped his head back and moaned as soon as Tatsurou’s hands were on him.
He took advantage of his lover’s exposed neck to lick and bite the skin while Daisuke thrust into his hand, his nails digging into Tatsurou’s shoulders and arms for support. When he paused-just to open his own pants-Daisuke scratched him in protest. He also attempted to say something again, but was cut off by Tatsurou lifting him up and pressing against him. Then it was all incoherence and breathless noises as Tatsurou entered him and their bodies moved together, impossibly close, waves of heat building up and coming over them with increasing strength. Daisuke embraced Tatsurou with his legs and arms, tugging at the overly long hair and marking his neck and back as they rocked faster and faster. Messy kisses and meaningless whispers were shared in between gasps and shaky breathing. Then Daisuke went still around him, and seconds later Tatsurou felt the same, pleasure in its highest form making them collapse to the floor and just stay like that, Daisuke on top of Tatsurou as the latter caressed his back almost absentmindedly.
“Well…hello there,” Daisuke half laughed against his neck, making him smile for a second. “Are we in a rush or something?”
Tatsurou shook his head slowly, and took a long time to speak. He moved so that they were sitting, Daisuke straddling his lap, and they stared at each other as Tatsurou dragged a hand through his lover’s hair and slid the fingers down his face. “You’re so…so beautiful.”
Daisuke would have teased him for that, but he must have sensed something, for he opened his mouth and didn’t utter a word. Tatsurou suspected his own eyes were probably giving his thoughts away-as much as he meant the compliment, it was not what he really wanted to say.
“Dai, I’m-I’m sorry for asking this, but I have to.” He paused. “Please tell me you’re not gonna kill yourself.”
For a brief second, it looked like Daisuke was going to laugh it off or try to deny it. Then he bit into his lower lip and remained silent.
Tatsurou felt like he was swallowing sharp knives as he looked at the other. “I read…” another pause, but Daisuke didn’t need him to finish that. The latest edition of Rock and Read had just come out and it was the only source Tatsurou could have taken that from.
“I’m not-I mean…” he paused, shook his head, and the look he gave Tatsurou just then cut through him. “I can’t promise you that.”
“What?” Tatsurou would have gone on to an endless raging fit if he weren’t too shaken by what he had just heard.
“I’m sorry,” Daisuke rested their foreheads together and held Tatsurou’s hands, still on his neck. Tatsurou returned it with a firm grip, hoping this would do for what he didn’t have the words to express. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s not as if I’m planning on doing it, cause I’m not. I don’t want to leave you. It’s just-something that’s crossed my mind a few times…”
“Why? When? Why did you never tell me?”
Daisuke closed his eyes as if the despair in Tatsurou’s gaze was too much to bear. “Because I didn’t want to see you like this. And because when I’m with you, I don’t really think about it.”
“So I’m never gonna leave you alone.”
Daisuke smiled softly at his naivety. “You can’t really do that.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure you don’t think about it when I’m not around.”
XXX
“I lost him.”
Kyo looks at him from the corner of his eyes and sighs. “We all did.”
“No, I mean-I lost him. Somewhere along the way, I could have saved him. I just didn’t know how.”
Kyo turns to face him and frowns. Tatsurou has had one drink too many, but his words still make some sense. That’s not the matter, though-it’s what he might be thinking that bothers Kyo. “What are you talking about?”
Tatsurou exhales deeply and closes his eyes. The two vocalists are alone at Dir en grey’s recording studio, and instead of going out with the rest of the band like Kaoru suggested, Kyo preferred to stay and hear whatever Tatsurou wanted to say to him, even if the latter drinks alcohol-that he brought himself with the excuse that this would make Dir en grey’s new songs easier to enjoy-while the former savors some cold green tea. Both of them were a little surprised at finding some kind of comfort in each other’s company, though they’ve known each other for many years. Tatsurou also knows Kyo is not the type to be bothered by his out-of-character silence, so he takes his time to weigh the words. “Did he ever talk to you about-suicide?”
Kyo looks down for a moment, and Tatsurou doesn’t know what to think of that, nor of his retort. “Who’s never thought about it?”
He shakes his head, swallows a huge gulp of beer and stares intently at the no-longer-blond next to him. “I’m not judging him. Or you.” He looks pointedly at Kyo, who shrugs dismissively. “I’m just wondering.”
“If he did it?” They’re both silent for a long time. “Sometimes…I prefer to think he did.”
That’s something Tatsurou hasn’t expected to hear. “Come again?”
Kyo sighs once more, drinks some of his tea and tries not to think about the bed waiting for him at home. “It wouldn’t be fair if his life had been taken from him that way, especially now. He was fighting, he had a lot of plans, and I don’t want to believe some stupid force above us decided that now was the time for him to go if he didn’t want to.”
“What if it was an accident?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
Tatsurou’s lack of understanding for that makes him go for another dose of alcohol. “But doesn’t it make you angry?”
“That he chose to end his life? Yes.”
“Don’t say it like that, as if you were so sure.”
“I know you prefer to think it was an accident.”
The younger vocalist closes his eyes, and his nod is unnecessary. “Funny enough, for the same reasons you prefer to think it was not. He was fighting. He had a lot of plans. He couldn’t-he wouldn’t give up like that.”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
“I don’t even know if I want to.”
Kyo’s sigh is the heaviest so far, and his smile is bitter. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”
“I have-”
“Fuck off, you know I don’t smoke anymore.”
Tatsurou doesn’t understand that either, and Kyo doesn’t seem to care. So he just manages a dead smile and goes back to drinking.
He still has 25 days to go.
XXX
“Where are you going?”
“Backstage, of course.”
“He’s probably getting ready for the concert right now.”
“Roses are red, violets are blue, what’s your point?”
“He needs to concentrate.”
“The hell! It’s not his first time on stage, Gara.”
“Oh really. But it’s his first time solo.”
“No, Feeldstage was his first time solo.”
“But that was a play, Tatsurou. This is different.”
“I think the play must have been much harder. He’s not used to acting. But singing? Pfft.”
“Could you two just shut it? Gara, he’s not listening to you. Tatsurou, just go there and make out with Daisuke or-whatever. I’m sure Dai will like it, though I don’t see why.”
“Uh-thanks, Kyo-san. I guess.”
“No problem. Now get outta here.”
x
Daisuke looked at him through the mirror when Tatsurou entered the dressing room, closing the door behind him quietly. “Hey, you.” There was a knowing smile on his face, and it only widened as the younger one approached him. By the time Tatsurou got to the makeup desk, Daisuke had stood up, but he didn’t turn around-he just welcomed his lover’s embrace from behind and sighed when Tatsurou treated him to sniffing his neck until Daisuke got some nice goose bumps.
“Hey. ‘Thought you might need some reassurance before facing the crowd.”
Daisuke rolled his eyes at him, which only made Tatsurou press their bodies closer together. “Yeah, right. You just want an excuse to check if I’m wearing that perfume you seem to like so much.”
Tatsurou chuckled against his ear and proceeded to rub his nose behind it, almost breathing against his hair. “That, too.”
Daisuke’s sigh was a tad deeper this time, nearly a hiss.
“You’ve got too many clothes on.”
“Well, it is almost time for me to go on stage, so you and I are not doing anything until after the concert.”
Tatsurou pouted, fighting the desire to bury his head in Daisuke’s hair. He’d be damned if he messed the dark locks up right now, so he opted for nuzzling Daisuke’s neck again.
“Truth or dare?”
Tatsurou smiled, endeared by the other’s sudden proposal. After all those years, playing with each other in the most random moments had become some kind of tradition for them. “Truth.”
“I’m a little nervous. But just a little bit.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t!”
“‘course I do.”
Daisuke slapped his arm.
“Eh! What was that for?”
“Don’t act as a know-it-all around me. You don’t know anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
Daisuke smiled again. “Your turn.”
“I want you.”
“I didn’t even say if you should-”
“Fuck you now?”
“That’s not what I’d dare you to do either. It’s not as if you need the challenge, anyway.”
“Right.”
“Hn. Mind if we continue this later?”
“Anything you say, babeh.”
“Seriously.”
“I’m serious.”
Daisuke scoffed.
XXX
“Doesn’t it bother you? That we don’t have a grave to visit? That he can’t be buried because there’s no space for that, and that we can’t go and bring flowers to him every year, or when we feel like doing it?”
After taking a moment to think, Tatsurou nods. He can’t say anything because he’s trying to ignore the way his eyes burn every time he sees another fan of Daisuke’s placing a flower, sometimes a card on the table in front of one of the huge pictures of him. There are far too many people here, which makes him glad for Daisuke, but at the same time he feels uncomfortable. He’s been grieving alone for days-weeks-, and attending a Memorial for thousands of fans is affecting him in ways he didn’t expect. He’s wearing sunglasses and a hat just like Yukke is, but he’s noticed some people whispering and staring, most likely recognizing them. Satochi and Miya have also come and talked to them for a while, as well as the guys from Kagerou, the studs, Dir en grey, D’espairsRay, Girugamesh, and many others. They decided not to stay all bundled together or they would attract too much attention, although it can’t be helped much with so many of them around. Now and then Tatsurou sees Shuu and Satoshi in a corner, or Kazu and Yuana talking to aie... Shizumi has stayed for a short time before leaving, and Tatsurou doesn’t blame him. He once spotted who he thought was Kyo, and he’s almost sure he saw Gara somewhere near the midget. Neither one has come to talk to him yet, and he’s almost regretting his decision to pair up with Yukke for this-he’s thankful for the other’s concern and he knows the bassist is suffering, too, but he talks a lot. Tatsurou knows he doesn’t have any right to complain, but Yukke’s questions make him think too much, and he’s tired of all those What If’s. Even if Miya would offer awkward silences and Satochi would say meaningless comforting words once or twice, at least he wouldn’t have to think so much.
He regrets those very thoughts the moment he sees Yukke looking at him, the worry not concealable by the glasses he’s wearing.
“You didn’t hear my last question, did you?”
Tatsurou holds back a sigh and shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“Nah, it’s okay.”
Tatsurou punches his shoulder-or, actually, puts his fist against the fabric of Yukke’s suit, so light his fake punch is. “Come on, ask it again.”
Yukke offers him a fleeting smile before turning serious. “Did they-I mean, Daisuke’s family-did they burn-”
Tatsurou spares him the trouble of finding the right way to ask that; there are probably no right words for such a question. “Yes, they did it already.”
Yukke sighs, nods and looks across the venue-the Memorial’s being held at ZEPP TOKYO. “Is that Hizumi?”
He tries to look in the same direction as the other and nods after a while. “I guess. Do you want to go there?”
“I want to know if you kept the ashes.”
Tatsurou would have spitted if he were drinking something. As it is, he just looks like a fish for a second, but he’s quick to straighten up-he has to keep in mind not to behave as if he wanted people to look at him. “His parents did, of course.”
“But couldn’t you keep, like, at least part of it?”
“Are you crazy? No, I know you are. The question is; how much did you drink before coming here?”
“I didn’t. I also didn’t think you’d get so flustered about this.”
Tatsurou starts at that, but he still gets exasperated. “I can’t just-take a portion of his ashes like that, don’t you see?”
“Okay, okay, it was a stupid question.”
“I mean, it would be weird-like getting a part of his body, or small parts of different parts, and-”
“I get it!”
Tatsurou nods. “Good.”
Yukke sighs audibly next to him and remains silent for a minute or so. “Look, I just-I’m worried about you, okay. I talked to Gara about it and he agrees that you’re-”
“I talked to Gara, too, and if I remember correctly, he said he understands.”
Yukke sighs again. “He’s still worried, though.”
“You two should stop worrying, then. I know what I’m doing.”
“And just what the hell are you doing?”
Tatsurou takes a deep breath and tries to think of a suitable answer. He doesn’t really want to talk about this, because it will only raise more questions, and he’s afraid he won’t be able to keep his façade in front of Yukke once the bassist gets to know what’s behind it. But at the same time, he doesn’t want the other to keep worrying so much, and deep down he feels guilty. Maybe he owns Yukke some honesty.
“I’m living the last days of Daisuke on Earth.”
Yukke looks a little shocked at first, but then his face changes into some of comprehension. “Are you talking about the same thing we did one month ago, when we went out with Karyu, Wataru, and-”
“Yes, when a bunch of us went out and drank our asses off as a tribute to Daisuke. We got a glass of beer for him, too, and we talked about him all night.”
The bassist looks at him for some time. “That was just some hours after we got to know about it.”
Tatsurou swallows. “I was trying not to focus on that. Don’t-” he interrupts Yukke before he has a chance to speak, “you don’t need to apologize.”
“So… you’re counting down the days until his spirit vanishes forever?”
“Something like that…” he chooses not to explain it further for now.
“So you still have-17 days?”
And Tatsurou realizes that hearing it from somebody else is much harder than saying it to himself.
Yukke doesn’t wait for him to answer-thankfully, for although it should be simple, Tatsurou’s got a huge lump in his throat right now. “We should do it again-like, get everybody together and remember the good times.”
Tatsurou side eyes him. “We did that on his birthday.”
“I know, but your birthday’s coming up.”
“I’m not going to have a party.”
Yukke looks like he’s about to call him names, but he checks himself in time. “Think of it as a way to relieve some of the pain and-pay some kind of homage to Daisuke, even if it’s bittersweet. He deserves that, and you deserve it, too.”
“I’m not so sure.”
Yukke curses under his breath. “If there weren’t so many people around us, I’d have slapped your head a lot of times by now.”
“Yeah, cause I’m so afraid of that.”
Tatsurou’s teasing actually makes Yukke smile. “Oh, you still got it! Good to see your sense of humor hasn’t disappeared yet.”
XXX
[ Part 2/2]
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