fic; keep me in your memory (leave out all the rest)
Title: Keep me in your memory (leave out all the rest)
Pairing: RyoShige
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Major fucking angst and character death!
Summary: When Shige dies, Ryo’s entire world collapses.
Author’s Note: 4525 words. For pansocuep. Prompt: Ryoshige with death. Angst. Shige dies and Ryo is at the funeral, goes home and shoots himself…or something. Lol I couldn’t have Ryo killing himself, so that changed, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway, dear! :D
This was supposed to be a drabble, damn it. Also, it’s really, really angsty. I cried while writing it. I’ve never done that before! But I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you all will like it as well.
The title's from Linkin Park's Leave out all the rest. ♥
Ryo isn’t there when it happened. He’s in Osaka, working on a new album with the rest of Kanjani8, just finishing up a photo shoot, on the bus ride back to their hotel room. Ryo’s pulling his phone out of his bag, noticing he has twenty missed calls and ten voicemails, but before he can begin to check even one, his phone rings in his hand. It’s Koyama, and Ryo doesn’t think much of it when he answers, trying to hear over the chatter of his band mates around him. Koyama is sobbing on the other end and Ryo wonders what happened, because this is different than Koyama’s normal tears, this is full-out, heart-wrenching, chest-heaving crying, where all he can do is repeat Ryo’s name, over and over, between broken sobs.
“Koyama?” Ryo tries, but Koyama just cries harder, and then there’s a moment’s pause, and Ryo figures he’s giving the phone to someone else, Yamapi, maybe, who usually keeps his calm during Koyama’s tears.
Instead, it’s the voice of Ryo’s manager that says, “Nishikido-kun,” in his ear, and Ryo sits up straighter. And something is different again; it’s not his manager’s usual stern voice, the one he uses to wake Ryo up everyday. It’s somber, painful, and Ryo feels his gut squirming in displeasure.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he demands, gaining the attention of his band mates around him.
But his manager falls silent for a few moments and Ryo’s heart is thudding loudly in his ears as he raises his voice again, “What the hell’s going on? Fucking tell me right now or-”
“Ryo-chan,” cuts in Yamapi’s voice; Yamapi’s usually cheerful, ever calm and collected and soothing voice, now wracked with sorrow, with anguish that Ryo starts to feel the world around him crack. “Ryo-chan,” Yamapi says again, “I-It’s Shige.”
Ryo grips the phone tighter in his hand. “What about Shige?” he questions, growing frustrated, angry, why the fuck can’t they just spit it out-
“Ryo, he-he’s dead. S-Shige’s dead.”
Ryo’s phone slips from his hand. And his entire universe comes crashing down around him.
*
He doesn’t recall how he got there, doesn’t remember ever leaving Osaka, ever getting on the Shinkansen, ever taking the taxi to the hospital, nor the elevator to the fifth floor. But somehow here he is, rushing into the white-walled room, to the bed where the love of his life, the only person he has cared about more than himself, his friend, his colleague, his lover, is lying pale-faced and lifeless.
Ryo takes Shige’s hand; it’s cold, freezing against the rush of blood in his own. He squeezes it, as if trying to send some of his life through their touching fingertips, trying to give Shige what he has too much of; he’d give it all if it’d make Shige return, open his bright eyes and smile that gorgeous smile, and tell everyone he’s sorry for scaring them. Behind him, around him, the others are talking - Ryo can hear them, but can’t make out words, like white noise they just continue going, a constant buzz in his ears.
He can’t cry, he doesn’t know how, right now the shock is overwhelming the sadness. And even when Yamapi squeezes his shoulder, urges him to leave, Ryo just shoves him away, and scoots closer to Shige’s side. Yamapi knows better than to try again, and Ryo can hear him talking in quiet tones to a doctor.
Ryo knows he has to leave eventually, and it’s nearly an hour when that time comes. He watches with a hollow heart as Shige is taken away, and then, as if on autopilot, goes to give Shige’s parents his condolences. Shige-mama hugs Ryo tightly, as if holding her own son, and Ryo doesn’t know what to say, how to act; he and Shige had told them about their relationship, a near six months ago when they’d celebrated their first year together, and while Shige’s father was more apprehensive, Shige-mama was beyond herself with glee. And now, Ryo can’t do anything but hug her back wordlessly.
All sense of time is lost, and Ryo’s not sure how long he spends with Shige’s parents before he’s ushered away by Yamapi and the rest of NewS and Kanjani8 who had arrived at the hospital with Ryo. As they leave, Ryo vaguely hears their manager mention something about a press conference, and Ryo instantly sees red.
“How can you even think about-” he starts, shoving past Koyama and Massu to get his hands onto their manager, ready to choke the fucking life out of him, but Yoko and Hina and Yamapi are already pulling him back, covering his mouth with a hand, and dragging him out the hospital while the others apologize to the staff and their manager looks shocked.
Ryo nearly bites Yamapi’s hand in his anger, but Yamapi isn’t concerned, just shoves Ryo into his car and takes him home. Despite insisting he’s fine, Yamapi walks Ryo up to his eighth floor apartment, and waits until Ryo is in the genkan before he says, “Ryo-chan, I know this is hard for you, harder than for any of us, but please, please, don’t do anything stupid.”
Ryo stares at him blankly, hearing his words, understanding them, but feeling them enter one ear and leave through the next.
“Please,” Yamapi begs and Ryo nods after a moment. Yamapi sighs, reaches into his pocket, and then out to take one of Ryo’s hands. He puts a small folded piece of paper in his palm and closes his fingers over it. “From S-Shige,” Yamapi says, “He. He wanted me to give you this, before. Before he…”
He doesn’t need to finish, instead, he just takes a step closer and pulls Ryo into a brief yet consoling hug, and then, with tears in his eyes, turns and leaves.
A little thrown by Yamapi’s behavior - Ryo doesn’t remember the last time he’d seen Yamapi cry - he stands in the doorway for a couple of minutes before finally going inside.
He sits on his couch, on the couch he and Shige had picked out when they’d moved in together, his feet on the rug that Shige loved, the one Ryo had given him, the one they’d decided to keep, and then looks down at the paper in his hand. He doesn’t know what to do with it; half of him eager to read it, the other half wanting to keep it preserved; Shige’s last words to him safe for as long as he wants. Like this, he can pretend that Shige’s still there with him, for just awhile longer.
In the end, he takes it with him into bed, puts it underneath Shige’s pillow, curls up on his side, and goes to sleep.
*
He doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t dream. He doesn’t eat, or drink, or do much of anything.
NewS doesn’t have any activities, obviously, and somehow, neither does Kanjani8, even though they are still in the middle of working on the new album. Ryo suspects his band mates had some say in that, but he doesn’t know for sure, he doesn’t answer anyone’s calls.
It’s probably unhealthy, the way he’s living now. Never leaving the apartment, staying in bed as long as he can, his nose pressed up against Shige’s side of the bed, eyes closed in a moment of blissful ignorance where he can smell Shige’s citrusy shampoo together with the freshness of his usual laundry detergent, and he can almost believe that Shige’s still there, will be smiling at him sleepily behind his mess of hair to kiss him on the mouth and say, “Good morning.”
But he’s never there when Ryo opens his eyes. And that’s just enough incentive to never get out of bed. It was Shige who used to get him out when their manager’s phone calls failed to rouse him. Shige, with his early morning shine, and caffeine flavored kisses, his warm, lingering touches, fingers in Ryo’s hair, body pressed up against his, and the world always looked so much more inviting, so beautiful and welcoming when he was with Shige, pulling him out of bed and into the bathroom, where they’d end up being late for work because Ryo would pull Shige into the shower, his clothes still on, and kiss him breathless.
Ryo aches for those mornings again, for being scolded half-heartedly by Shige as they rushed into work, for just starting the day with the one person who made everything in his life wonderful.
It’s not like that, anymore. Ryo doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to find that again.
*
“Hi! This is Shige, sorry I’m not here right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Beep.
“Hi! This is Shige-”
Beep.
“Hi! This is Shige-”
Beep.
“Hi! This is Shige-”
Beep.
Ryo calls the number again, his cell phone pressed close to his ear, his eyes shut tight, and Shige’s voice the only thing he hears in the silence of his apartment.
It’s not really him, but Ryo deludes himself enough, thinking that Shige is talking to him, his own personalized message, Shige’s low, soft voice just for him to hear and keep for himself.
And for now, with nothing else, it’s enough.
*
The funeral is five days later. It’s bright and sunny, a typical Tokyo day, and Ryo thinks it’s appropriate for Shige, ever the Tokyo boy. The funeral is fairly big; Shige college friends, plus all of NewS and their parents, Kanjani8, most of KAT-TUN, Arashi, and other sempai and kohai groups. There are fans, too, a mass of them along the outside of the fence surrounding the cemetery, all in dark clothes and the most tame Ryo has ever seen them in all his years in this industry. The service is short and precise, which Ryo is grateful for. He’s ready to leave, to return home, because being here makes it too real, makes it irreversible, and he just wants to cling desperately to the sliver of hope that maybe this is all a bad dream and anytime now, he’ll wake up.
Once the funeral is over, Ryo’s the first to move, but before he can leave, he’s stopped by Shige’s mother, who, with her eyes so like Shige’s, says, “Ryo-kun, come home with us.”
Ryo starts to refuse but she continues, “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? You haven’t slept, either. I can tell.” She smiles softly at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and touches him gently on the elbow. “Come on,” she says, and there’s a hint of a plea in her voice, and Ryo can’t say no.
She invites his parents, and the rest of NewS, anyone else that would like to come, and then leads the way to the car, that takes them home.
For the first time in days, Ryo has a proper meal, only eating at all because Shige-mama sits beside him and watches and Ryo’s sure she’d start feeding him herself if he didn’t. This is where Shige gets his own caring nature, Ryo’s certain, he can see so much of him in her, remembers those times when Ryo was too tired working two groups and a drama on a movie or whatever solo activity he had at the time, too tired to eat or sleep properly, remembers how Shige took care of him, bringing him breakfast in bed, letting Ryo use his lap as a pillow.
He excuses himself when he finishes eating, insists he needs to go home, and bids Shige’s parents goodbye. He takes his own parents to the station, where his mother holds him for nearly ten minutes, fingers combing his hair, and his father tells him, “Come home whenever you need to.”
Ryo nods, and his mother kisses his check, says, “Take care of yourself, dear. It’s what Shige-kun would want, too.”
Ryo nods again, automatic, and watches them leave. As he heads home, his mother’s words ring in his ears, haunting him. He curls in bed, suit and all, and scowls. He doesn’t know what Shige would want.
Shige died before Ryo could find out.
*
“Ryo-chan,” calls Yamapi, banging on the front door.
Ryo can hear him, but he takes his time in responding, slowly dragging himself out of bed to answer the door. Yamapi’s face falls when he sees Ryo’s appearance - dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, sunken cheeks, and crumpled clothes that hand loosely off his thin form.
“Ryo-chan,” Yamapi says, softly, worriedly. “What’re you doing to yourself?”
“I’m fine,” Ryo lies.
“Can I come in?” Yamapi says, and Ryo shrugs, moving aside to let him in.
Yamapi sighs at the sight of the apartment, moving throughout the entire place, noticing the almost too cleanliness of it. There’s nothing out of place, almost no sign of anyone living anywhere. The fridge is empty, and only the bedroom looks like it may be occupied; the bed sheets tousled, clothes in a pile in front of the closet.
Yamapi turns to Ryo with sad eyes when they return to the sitting room. “Ryo-chan, you can’t keep living like this,” he says.
“I’m fine,” Ryo lies again.
“No, you’re not,” Yamapi says, raising his voice. “This is not fine. When did you last eat? Drink? Shower?”
Ryo’s expression darkens. “Stop it, Pi. Just. Stop.”
“I can’t,” Yamapi says. “You’re going to kill yourself at this rate and I-”
“Good!” Ryo snaps. “I don’t care! There’s nothing else I want from this fucking world anyway."
Yamapi looks momentarily frightened. “What’re you saying?” he questions. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Pi, just shut the fuck up. Leave. I don’t want to do this.”
Yamapi shakes his head. “I can’t just watch you rot away like this,” he says. “Shige wouldn’t let me, he wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”
“What the fuck do you know what he’d want?” Ryo shouts as he reaches for the first thing he can - shoving a table lamp onto the floor, the glass shattering loudly in the silence that follows. “He’s dead,” Ryo yells. “Shige’s dead. I don’t even know what he’d have wanted, so don’t you go pretending you know him better than I did. He’s fucking dead.”
He throws a picture frame at the wall, followed by a vase, and Yamapi watches on in mixed horror and anguish. Ryo continues to scream, shout, yell, and throw whatever he can get his hands on until it’s all out of his system, until the room is covered in shards of glass, toppled books, and DVD cases, until he collapses onto the floor where he stands, and begins to shake in dry, heaving sobs. It’s the first time he’s cried since Shige’s death. He didn’t realize it could hurt so much.
Yamapi weaves his way around the debris and sinks down beside him, pulling Ryo into a comforting embrace and blinking away his own tears as Ryo clenches his fingers into Yamapi’s shirt.
They stay like that for awhile, Ryo’s not sure how much time passes before he pulls back, flushing with embarrassment, his eyes bloodshot. He feels drained, exhausted. He doesn’t remember the last time he cried like this.
Yamapi gives Ryo a small smile and says, “I’ll clean this up. Why don’t you take a shower?”
Ryo nods and leaves for the bathroom without a word. As he strips he hears Yamapi sweeping up glass and feels a rush of gratitude he doesn’t know how to explain. Instead he just sighs and gets into the shower. Under the cool water, he clears his head, and comes out twenty minutes later feeling better than he has in days.
Yamapi’s finished cleaning, is sitting on the couch. “Are you okay?” he asks the instant Ryo joins him, dressed now in sweats and a white T-shirt.
Ryo nods. “I’m better,” he says, and gives Yamapi what he hopes is a thankful look.
Yamapi smiles and stands, pats Ryo on the shoulder. “I know this is hard, Ryo-chan, but we want to help, okay? So don’t do this to yourself. I know that you know that Shige wouldn’t want you to do this to your life.”
Ryo nods again, because it’s true. He does know, but it’s easier to ignore it, to ignore all of life than to have to go back, act like nothing is wrong, smiles for cameras, sing songs that have no meaning, be an idol, when the best part of his life, the part that meant the world, that made doing the same thing over and over worth it, when that reason, inspiration, when that person is gone, it’s just easier to not care.
Yamapi heads to the genkan and Ryo follows after him, half not wanting him to go, and half not knowing what to do if he’d stayed. So instead Ryo watches him pull on his shoes and listens as he says, “I’ll call you later, okay? Pick up when I do.”
“I will,” Ryo promises as Yamapi reaches for the doorknob.
He pauses, turns back to Ryo again, and says, “You haven’t read the note Shige left you, have you?”
Ryo doesn’t reply; he doesn’t have to.
“Read it,” Yamapi says firmly. “Please. Read it. You’ll feel better, all oft his, it’ll be better. Just read it.”
Only when Ryo nods again does Yamapi finally leave, a short wave and smile goodbye. Ryo watches until he disappears around the corner before pulling the door shut and returning to the bedroom. He sits down on the bed and pulls Shige’s pillow onto his lap, stares at the empty spot beneath it, where Shige’s note should be.
Ryo’s eyes widen. He tosses the pillow onto the floor, swipes his hands over the bedspread, kicks aside the sheets, the other pillows, nothing.
“Fuck,” he mutters, frantically searches for the note, nearly tears apart the entire bedroom until he finds it almost an hour later, slipped behind the night stand.
Ryo sits in the middle of the mess he’s created, his legs crossed beneath him and the note in his hand, staring at it with both apprehension and curiosity. He should read it, he knows, but he just can’t get himself to do it. It’s the last piece of Shige he has left, for as long as he can, he wants to keep it that way, unread, untouched, until he’s ready to accept it, accept that he’s gone, gone for good.
He’s afraid to lose it again, though, and sits there for twenty minutes, contemplating what to do with it, until he comes to a conclusion, wondering why he didn’t think of it before. He leaves the bedroom and heads to the door next to it, to the second bedroom that Shige had turned into a darkroom shortly after their move. Ryo remembers how excited Shige was to be able to use an actual room instead of the bathroom he’d changed in his old apartment, remembers how much effort he put into making it look like a real darkroom. When he wasn’t studying or at work, Shige was in the darkroom, and Ryo can’t think of a better place to put the note.
The room feels eerie when Ryo enters, completely undisturbed from the last time Shige had used it. The chemicals are still out in the bins, and photos are pinned up on a large bulletin board along one wall, while even more are spread out across a table beneath it. Ryo walks over, eyes scanning the glossy prints; pictures of Shige’s school friends, of NewS, of other JE members, of nature and architecture, or things most people wouldn’t even consider photographing, of him, of them, smiling beside each other, Ryo’s arm around Shige’s shoulder, possessive, of them making silly faces, of Ryo trying to pull Shige into a kiss, the picture a little lopsided from Shige’s distraction.
Ryo’s heart aches, looking at the photos. He turns away, looks around the room, and then moves to the small desk beside the door. Ryo pulls open one of the drawers, slips the note inside, and with one last look around, he exits the room.
*
NewS will disband. They’ll release the single and album they’d been working on just before Shige’s death and they’ll have a summer tour, and announce during the first concert at the Tokyo Dome, before thousands of fans, that this is their last tour together as NewS, that they are disbanding.
The decision takes days to come to. No one’s sure what should be done, too distraught, too upset, too emotional to think clearly. Ryo says, on Shige’s behalf, Shige who loved NewS more than most things that they should continue as five, for as long as they can. It’s Koyama who insists it just can’t be the same, they’ve lost too many members, and now it’s not “NewS” anymore. Yamapi comes up with the farewell tour, to release the single and album anyway. The others agree readily and production beings. Ryo’s busy with work, with life that can just somehow go on despite taking something so important away, that he doesn’t have the chance to think about Shige’s note.
Only when Massu suggests coming up with something to commemorate about Shige during the concert, each member telling a story or expressing their feelings, that Ryo remembers the note. He doesn’t know what to say about Shige. What he wants to say, would love to say, would give anything to stand there in the middle of the Dome and shout out to the world just how much he loved Kato Shigeaki, just how much he meant to him, he can never say, he could never tell.
It’s the night before the first concert, and Ryo still doesn’t know what he’ll tell fans tomorrow. And it’s as he walks around his apartment, thinking, thinking, thinking, that he remembers the note Shige left him. He goes to retrieve it from the darkroom, and sits down on the floor in front of the couch, sets the tiny piece of paper on the coffee table before him.
It’s been almost three months since Shige’s death, and Ryo still wakes up hoping it was a dream, still calls tadaima when he returns home, still expects Shige’s cheerful okaeri to greet him back, still turns around in bed, reaching an arm to pull Shige closer, only to grab thin, ephemeral air, that slips between his fingers and leaves him feeling hollow. He hasn’t moved any of Shige’s things; his green toothbrush still in the holder by the sink, his shoes lined perfectly in the genkan, his computer on the desk in the bedroom, his giant law books stacked across the bookshelves next to the T.V.
He hasn’t been able to do any of it yet, but he’s getting there, he can tell. It’s hard, but as the days go on, his mind focused on making this new tour the best it can be, he thinks he’s coping as well as he can be. The other members watch over him, and Shige’s mother stops by occasionally, makes sure he eats, makes sure he rests, treats him like her own son, and with support like this Ryo’s world starts to slowly piece itself back together.
He stares at the note, at the final bit of the puzzle he’s certain he needs. He remembers a doctor or Yamapi, someone, telling him that Shige managed a few minutes of life after the accident, after the crash that took his life. He remembers someone explaining that’s when he wrote this note, in his last moments of lucidity, hastily scribbling what he could to the person that mattered most, who was miles away in another city, who wouldn’t know about his death for hours to come.
It takes all his courage to open it, to unfold the creases, to smooth them down, to stare into the messy scrawl that belongs to Shige.
Ryo,
Our time together was short, but it was the happiest, the best of my life.
Please don’t waste yours because I’m gone. You gave me everything I could have wanted, and so much more.
Live, Ryo. Promise me you’ll live. For me, if not for you.
I’ll always be there, wherever you are, wherever you go.
I love you,
Shige
*
Ryo never knew what kinds of flowers Shige liked, so everyday that he visits Shige’s grave, he brings a different kind.
The first day was yellow roses. Today they’re white calla lilies.
He sets the bouquet across the grave, and lights the incense. He presses his palms together before his chest, and closes his eyes, bows his head just slightly.
It’s been a three months, now. The concert tour ended a few weeks ago. Their album and single released together with the first day of the concert. The sales were through the roof. And that first night at the Tokyo Dome there were 55000 fans all with tear-streaked faces, with cheers louder than at any concert Ryo had ever participated in or attended before. Behind the scenes, all five NewS members had shed their own tears (though Koyama continued to cry on and off camera), and even the staff looked on with glossy eyes.
The five of them continue on separately; Ryo works now solely with Kanjani8, and although he misses NewS, he cannot hate having only one group to devote his attention on. Yamapi has gone solo, as was expected, already releasing a single and plans for a new concert coming up in the near future. Tegoshi and Massu have formed TegoMass as a permanent unit, while Koyama continues hosting Shounen Club, and is getting lead drama offers last Ryo heard.
Life goes on, the wheels turning every so steadily, pulling them all along for the ride. Ryo has finally come to terms with what’s happened. He still on occasion, finds himself calling out for Shige, or listening to his voicemail message, but otherwise he’s better than he was those first few days after his death. He’s started to pack some of Shige’s things away. Returning them to Shige’s parents, stopping there for a cup of tea as his mother won’t let him leave without a few idle moments of chitchat, but Ryo doesn’t mind, with her soft smiles and her eyes like Shige, he feels at home there, and has made himself promise to visit more often.
When Ryo misses Shige so deeply he cannot function, cannot think or speak or nearly breathe, he comes here, bows his head toward the grave. Here, with only the clear sky and the bright sun above, and the cool wind the wisps through his hair, the rustle of the tree leaves and the smoky haze of the incense, his heart becomes warm again and he revitalizes, rejuvenates.
Even in death, just as he did while he was alive, with his bright eyes and wide smiles and his low rumble of a laugh and his soft, lingering kisses, his warm breath as he whispers Ryo over and over, just like that, Shige reminds Ryo how to live.
end.
note: a;sldkgasdg sorry for the angst. D: i hope you enjoyed it! thank you for reading~
Pairing: RyoShige
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Major fucking angst and character death!
Summary: When Shige dies, Ryo’s entire world collapses.
Author’s Note: 4525 words. For pansocuep. Prompt: Ryoshige with death. Angst. Shige dies and Ryo is at the funeral, goes home and shoots himself…or something. Lol I couldn’t have Ryo killing himself, so that changed, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway, dear! :D
This was supposed to be a drabble, damn it. Also, it’s really, really angsty. I cried while writing it. I’ve never done that before! But I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you all will like it as well.
The title's from Linkin Park's Leave out all the rest. ♥
Ryo isn’t there when it happened. He’s in Osaka, working on a new album with the rest of Kanjani8, just finishing up a photo shoot, on the bus ride back to their hotel room. Ryo’s pulling his phone out of his bag, noticing he has twenty missed calls and ten voicemails, but before he can begin to check even one, his phone rings in his hand. It’s Koyama, and Ryo doesn’t think much of it when he answers, trying to hear over the chatter of his band mates around him. Koyama is sobbing on the other end and Ryo wonders what happened, because this is different than Koyama’s normal tears, this is full-out, heart-wrenching, chest-heaving crying, where all he can do is repeat Ryo’s name, over and over, between broken sobs.
“Koyama?” Ryo tries, but Koyama just cries harder, and then there’s a moment’s pause, and Ryo figures he’s giving the phone to someone else, Yamapi, maybe, who usually keeps his calm during Koyama’s tears.
Instead, it’s the voice of Ryo’s manager that says, “Nishikido-kun,” in his ear, and Ryo sits up straighter. And something is different again; it’s not his manager’s usual stern voice, the one he uses to wake Ryo up everyday. It’s somber, painful, and Ryo feels his gut squirming in displeasure.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he demands, gaining the attention of his band mates around him.
But his manager falls silent for a few moments and Ryo’s heart is thudding loudly in his ears as he raises his voice again, “What the hell’s going on? Fucking tell me right now or-”
“Ryo-chan,” cuts in Yamapi’s voice; Yamapi’s usually cheerful, ever calm and collected and soothing voice, now wracked with sorrow, with anguish that Ryo starts to feel the world around him crack. “Ryo-chan,” Yamapi says again, “I-It’s Shige.”
Ryo grips the phone tighter in his hand. “What about Shige?” he questions, growing frustrated, angry, why the fuck can’t they just spit it out-
“Ryo, he-he’s dead. S-Shige’s dead.”
Ryo’s phone slips from his hand. And his entire universe comes crashing down around him.
*
He doesn’t recall how he got there, doesn’t remember ever leaving Osaka, ever getting on the Shinkansen, ever taking the taxi to the hospital, nor the elevator to the fifth floor. But somehow here he is, rushing into the white-walled room, to the bed where the love of his life, the only person he has cared about more than himself, his friend, his colleague, his lover, is lying pale-faced and lifeless.
Ryo takes Shige’s hand; it’s cold, freezing against the rush of blood in his own. He squeezes it, as if trying to send some of his life through their touching fingertips, trying to give Shige what he has too much of; he’d give it all if it’d make Shige return, open his bright eyes and smile that gorgeous smile, and tell everyone he’s sorry for scaring them. Behind him, around him, the others are talking - Ryo can hear them, but can’t make out words, like white noise they just continue going, a constant buzz in his ears.
He can’t cry, he doesn’t know how, right now the shock is overwhelming the sadness. And even when Yamapi squeezes his shoulder, urges him to leave, Ryo just shoves him away, and scoots closer to Shige’s side. Yamapi knows better than to try again, and Ryo can hear him talking in quiet tones to a doctor.
Ryo knows he has to leave eventually, and it’s nearly an hour when that time comes. He watches with a hollow heart as Shige is taken away, and then, as if on autopilot, goes to give Shige’s parents his condolences. Shige-mama hugs Ryo tightly, as if holding her own son, and Ryo doesn’t know what to say, how to act; he and Shige had told them about their relationship, a near six months ago when they’d celebrated their first year together, and while Shige’s father was more apprehensive, Shige-mama was beyond herself with glee. And now, Ryo can’t do anything but hug her back wordlessly.
All sense of time is lost, and Ryo’s not sure how long he spends with Shige’s parents before he’s ushered away by Yamapi and the rest of NewS and Kanjani8 who had arrived at the hospital with Ryo. As they leave, Ryo vaguely hears their manager mention something about a press conference, and Ryo instantly sees red.
“How can you even think about-” he starts, shoving past Koyama and Massu to get his hands onto their manager, ready to choke the fucking life out of him, but Yoko and Hina and Yamapi are already pulling him back, covering his mouth with a hand, and dragging him out the hospital while the others apologize to the staff and their manager looks shocked.
Ryo nearly bites Yamapi’s hand in his anger, but Yamapi isn’t concerned, just shoves Ryo into his car and takes him home. Despite insisting he’s fine, Yamapi walks Ryo up to his eighth floor apartment, and waits until Ryo is in the genkan before he says, “Ryo-chan, I know this is hard for you, harder than for any of us, but please, please, don’t do anything stupid.”
Ryo stares at him blankly, hearing his words, understanding them, but feeling them enter one ear and leave through the next.
“Please,” Yamapi begs and Ryo nods after a moment. Yamapi sighs, reaches into his pocket, and then out to take one of Ryo’s hands. He puts a small folded piece of paper in his palm and closes his fingers over it. “From S-Shige,” Yamapi says, “He. He wanted me to give you this, before. Before he…”
He doesn’t need to finish, instead, he just takes a step closer and pulls Ryo into a brief yet consoling hug, and then, with tears in his eyes, turns and leaves.
A little thrown by Yamapi’s behavior - Ryo doesn’t remember the last time he’d seen Yamapi cry - he stands in the doorway for a couple of minutes before finally going inside.
He sits on his couch, on the couch he and Shige had picked out when they’d moved in together, his feet on the rug that Shige loved, the one Ryo had given him, the one they’d decided to keep, and then looks down at the paper in his hand. He doesn’t know what to do with it; half of him eager to read it, the other half wanting to keep it preserved; Shige’s last words to him safe for as long as he wants. Like this, he can pretend that Shige’s still there with him, for just awhile longer.
In the end, he takes it with him into bed, puts it underneath Shige’s pillow, curls up on his side, and goes to sleep.
*
He doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t dream. He doesn’t eat, or drink, or do much of anything.
NewS doesn’t have any activities, obviously, and somehow, neither does Kanjani8, even though they are still in the middle of working on the new album. Ryo suspects his band mates had some say in that, but he doesn’t know for sure, he doesn’t answer anyone’s calls.
It’s probably unhealthy, the way he’s living now. Never leaving the apartment, staying in bed as long as he can, his nose pressed up against Shige’s side of the bed, eyes closed in a moment of blissful ignorance where he can smell Shige’s citrusy shampoo together with the freshness of his usual laundry detergent, and he can almost believe that Shige’s still there, will be smiling at him sleepily behind his mess of hair to kiss him on the mouth and say, “Good morning.”
But he’s never there when Ryo opens his eyes. And that’s just enough incentive to never get out of bed. It was Shige who used to get him out when their manager’s phone calls failed to rouse him. Shige, with his early morning shine, and caffeine flavored kisses, his warm, lingering touches, fingers in Ryo’s hair, body pressed up against his, and the world always looked so much more inviting, so beautiful and welcoming when he was with Shige, pulling him out of bed and into the bathroom, where they’d end up being late for work because Ryo would pull Shige into the shower, his clothes still on, and kiss him breathless.
Ryo aches for those mornings again, for being scolded half-heartedly by Shige as they rushed into work, for just starting the day with the one person who made everything in his life wonderful.
It’s not like that, anymore. Ryo doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to find that again.
*
“Hi! This is Shige, sorry I’m not here right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Beep.
“Hi! This is Shige-”
Beep.
“Hi! This is Shige-”
Beep.
“Hi! This is Shige-”
Beep.
Ryo calls the number again, his cell phone pressed close to his ear, his eyes shut tight, and Shige’s voice the only thing he hears in the silence of his apartment.
It’s not really him, but Ryo deludes himself enough, thinking that Shige is talking to him, his own personalized message, Shige’s low, soft voice just for him to hear and keep for himself.
And for now, with nothing else, it’s enough.
*
The funeral is five days later. It’s bright and sunny, a typical Tokyo day, and Ryo thinks it’s appropriate for Shige, ever the Tokyo boy. The funeral is fairly big; Shige college friends, plus all of NewS and their parents, Kanjani8, most of KAT-TUN, Arashi, and other sempai and kohai groups. There are fans, too, a mass of them along the outside of the fence surrounding the cemetery, all in dark clothes and the most tame Ryo has ever seen them in all his years in this industry. The service is short and precise, which Ryo is grateful for. He’s ready to leave, to return home, because being here makes it too real, makes it irreversible, and he just wants to cling desperately to the sliver of hope that maybe this is all a bad dream and anytime now, he’ll wake up.
Once the funeral is over, Ryo’s the first to move, but before he can leave, he’s stopped by Shige’s mother, who, with her eyes so like Shige’s, says, “Ryo-kun, come home with us.”
Ryo starts to refuse but she continues, “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? You haven’t slept, either. I can tell.” She smiles softly at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and touches him gently on the elbow. “Come on,” she says, and there’s a hint of a plea in her voice, and Ryo can’t say no.
She invites his parents, and the rest of NewS, anyone else that would like to come, and then leads the way to the car, that takes them home.
For the first time in days, Ryo has a proper meal, only eating at all because Shige-mama sits beside him and watches and Ryo’s sure she’d start feeding him herself if he didn’t. This is where Shige gets his own caring nature, Ryo’s certain, he can see so much of him in her, remembers those times when Ryo was too tired working two groups and a drama on a movie or whatever solo activity he had at the time, too tired to eat or sleep properly, remembers how Shige took care of him, bringing him breakfast in bed, letting Ryo use his lap as a pillow.
He excuses himself when he finishes eating, insists he needs to go home, and bids Shige’s parents goodbye. He takes his own parents to the station, where his mother holds him for nearly ten minutes, fingers combing his hair, and his father tells him, “Come home whenever you need to.”
Ryo nods, and his mother kisses his check, says, “Take care of yourself, dear. It’s what Shige-kun would want, too.”
Ryo nods again, automatic, and watches them leave. As he heads home, his mother’s words ring in his ears, haunting him. He curls in bed, suit and all, and scowls. He doesn’t know what Shige would want.
Shige died before Ryo could find out.
*
“Ryo-chan,” calls Yamapi, banging on the front door.
Ryo can hear him, but he takes his time in responding, slowly dragging himself out of bed to answer the door. Yamapi’s face falls when he sees Ryo’s appearance - dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, sunken cheeks, and crumpled clothes that hand loosely off his thin form.
“Ryo-chan,” Yamapi says, softly, worriedly. “What’re you doing to yourself?”
“I’m fine,” Ryo lies.
“Can I come in?” Yamapi says, and Ryo shrugs, moving aside to let him in.
Yamapi sighs at the sight of the apartment, moving throughout the entire place, noticing the almost too cleanliness of it. There’s nothing out of place, almost no sign of anyone living anywhere. The fridge is empty, and only the bedroom looks like it may be occupied; the bed sheets tousled, clothes in a pile in front of the closet.
Yamapi turns to Ryo with sad eyes when they return to the sitting room. “Ryo-chan, you can’t keep living like this,” he says.
“I’m fine,” Ryo lies again.
“No, you’re not,” Yamapi says, raising his voice. “This is not fine. When did you last eat? Drink? Shower?”
Ryo’s expression darkens. “Stop it, Pi. Just. Stop.”
“I can’t,” Yamapi says. “You’re going to kill yourself at this rate and I-”
“Good!” Ryo snaps. “I don’t care! There’s nothing else I want from this fucking world anyway."
Yamapi looks momentarily frightened. “What’re you saying?” he questions. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Pi, just shut the fuck up. Leave. I don’t want to do this.”
Yamapi shakes his head. “I can’t just watch you rot away like this,” he says. “Shige wouldn’t let me, he wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”
“What the fuck do you know what he’d want?” Ryo shouts as he reaches for the first thing he can - shoving a table lamp onto the floor, the glass shattering loudly in the silence that follows. “He’s dead,” Ryo yells. “Shige’s dead. I don’t even know what he’d have wanted, so don’t you go pretending you know him better than I did. He’s fucking dead.”
He throws a picture frame at the wall, followed by a vase, and Yamapi watches on in mixed horror and anguish. Ryo continues to scream, shout, yell, and throw whatever he can get his hands on until it’s all out of his system, until the room is covered in shards of glass, toppled books, and DVD cases, until he collapses onto the floor where he stands, and begins to shake in dry, heaving sobs. It’s the first time he’s cried since Shige’s death. He didn’t realize it could hurt so much.
Yamapi weaves his way around the debris and sinks down beside him, pulling Ryo into a comforting embrace and blinking away his own tears as Ryo clenches his fingers into Yamapi’s shirt.
They stay like that for awhile, Ryo’s not sure how much time passes before he pulls back, flushing with embarrassment, his eyes bloodshot. He feels drained, exhausted. He doesn’t remember the last time he cried like this.
Yamapi gives Ryo a small smile and says, “I’ll clean this up. Why don’t you take a shower?”
Ryo nods and leaves for the bathroom without a word. As he strips he hears Yamapi sweeping up glass and feels a rush of gratitude he doesn’t know how to explain. Instead he just sighs and gets into the shower. Under the cool water, he clears his head, and comes out twenty minutes later feeling better than he has in days.
Yamapi’s finished cleaning, is sitting on the couch. “Are you okay?” he asks the instant Ryo joins him, dressed now in sweats and a white T-shirt.
Ryo nods. “I’m better,” he says, and gives Yamapi what he hopes is a thankful look.
Yamapi smiles and stands, pats Ryo on the shoulder. “I know this is hard, Ryo-chan, but we want to help, okay? So don’t do this to yourself. I know that you know that Shige wouldn’t want you to do this to your life.”
Ryo nods again, because it’s true. He does know, but it’s easier to ignore it, to ignore all of life than to have to go back, act like nothing is wrong, smiles for cameras, sing songs that have no meaning, be an idol, when the best part of his life, the part that meant the world, that made doing the same thing over and over worth it, when that reason, inspiration, when that person is gone, it’s just easier to not care.
Yamapi heads to the genkan and Ryo follows after him, half not wanting him to go, and half not knowing what to do if he’d stayed. So instead Ryo watches him pull on his shoes and listens as he says, “I’ll call you later, okay? Pick up when I do.”
“I will,” Ryo promises as Yamapi reaches for the doorknob.
He pauses, turns back to Ryo again, and says, “You haven’t read the note Shige left you, have you?”
Ryo doesn’t reply; he doesn’t have to.
“Read it,” Yamapi says firmly. “Please. Read it. You’ll feel better, all oft his, it’ll be better. Just read it.”
Only when Ryo nods again does Yamapi finally leave, a short wave and smile goodbye. Ryo watches until he disappears around the corner before pulling the door shut and returning to the bedroom. He sits down on the bed and pulls Shige’s pillow onto his lap, stares at the empty spot beneath it, where Shige’s note should be.
Ryo’s eyes widen. He tosses the pillow onto the floor, swipes his hands over the bedspread, kicks aside the sheets, the other pillows, nothing.
“Fuck,” he mutters, frantically searches for the note, nearly tears apart the entire bedroom until he finds it almost an hour later, slipped behind the night stand.
Ryo sits in the middle of the mess he’s created, his legs crossed beneath him and the note in his hand, staring at it with both apprehension and curiosity. He should read it, he knows, but he just can’t get himself to do it. It’s the last piece of Shige he has left, for as long as he can, he wants to keep it that way, unread, untouched, until he’s ready to accept it, accept that he’s gone, gone for good.
He’s afraid to lose it again, though, and sits there for twenty minutes, contemplating what to do with it, until he comes to a conclusion, wondering why he didn’t think of it before. He leaves the bedroom and heads to the door next to it, to the second bedroom that Shige had turned into a darkroom shortly after their move. Ryo remembers how excited Shige was to be able to use an actual room instead of the bathroom he’d changed in his old apartment, remembers how much effort he put into making it look like a real darkroom. When he wasn’t studying or at work, Shige was in the darkroom, and Ryo can’t think of a better place to put the note.
The room feels eerie when Ryo enters, completely undisturbed from the last time Shige had used it. The chemicals are still out in the bins, and photos are pinned up on a large bulletin board along one wall, while even more are spread out across a table beneath it. Ryo walks over, eyes scanning the glossy prints; pictures of Shige’s school friends, of NewS, of other JE members, of nature and architecture, or things most people wouldn’t even consider photographing, of him, of them, smiling beside each other, Ryo’s arm around Shige’s shoulder, possessive, of them making silly faces, of Ryo trying to pull Shige into a kiss, the picture a little lopsided from Shige’s distraction.
Ryo’s heart aches, looking at the photos. He turns away, looks around the room, and then moves to the small desk beside the door. Ryo pulls open one of the drawers, slips the note inside, and with one last look around, he exits the room.
*
NewS will disband. They’ll release the single and album they’d been working on just before Shige’s death and they’ll have a summer tour, and announce during the first concert at the Tokyo Dome, before thousands of fans, that this is their last tour together as NewS, that they are disbanding.
The decision takes days to come to. No one’s sure what should be done, too distraught, too upset, too emotional to think clearly. Ryo says, on Shige’s behalf, Shige who loved NewS more than most things that they should continue as five, for as long as they can. It’s Koyama who insists it just can’t be the same, they’ve lost too many members, and now it’s not “NewS” anymore. Yamapi comes up with the farewell tour, to release the single and album anyway. The others agree readily and production beings. Ryo’s busy with work, with life that can just somehow go on despite taking something so important away, that he doesn’t have the chance to think about Shige’s note.
Only when Massu suggests coming up with something to commemorate about Shige during the concert, each member telling a story or expressing their feelings, that Ryo remembers the note. He doesn’t know what to say about Shige. What he wants to say, would love to say, would give anything to stand there in the middle of the Dome and shout out to the world just how much he loved Kato Shigeaki, just how much he meant to him, he can never say, he could never tell.
It’s the night before the first concert, and Ryo still doesn’t know what he’ll tell fans tomorrow. And it’s as he walks around his apartment, thinking, thinking, thinking, that he remembers the note Shige left him. He goes to retrieve it from the darkroom, and sits down on the floor in front of the couch, sets the tiny piece of paper on the coffee table before him.
It’s been almost three months since Shige’s death, and Ryo still wakes up hoping it was a dream, still calls tadaima when he returns home, still expects Shige’s cheerful okaeri to greet him back, still turns around in bed, reaching an arm to pull Shige closer, only to grab thin, ephemeral air, that slips between his fingers and leaves him feeling hollow. He hasn’t moved any of Shige’s things; his green toothbrush still in the holder by the sink, his shoes lined perfectly in the genkan, his computer on the desk in the bedroom, his giant law books stacked across the bookshelves next to the T.V.
He hasn’t been able to do any of it yet, but he’s getting there, he can tell. It’s hard, but as the days go on, his mind focused on making this new tour the best it can be, he thinks he’s coping as well as he can be. The other members watch over him, and Shige’s mother stops by occasionally, makes sure he eats, makes sure he rests, treats him like her own son, and with support like this Ryo’s world starts to slowly piece itself back together.
He stares at the note, at the final bit of the puzzle he’s certain he needs. He remembers a doctor or Yamapi, someone, telling him that Shige managed a few minutes of life after the accident, after the crash that took his life. He remembers someone explaining that’s when he wrote this note, in his last moments of lucidity, hastily scribbling what he could to the person that mattered most, who was miles away in another city, who wouldn’t know about his death for hours to come.
It takes all his courage to open it, to unfold the creases, to smooth them down, to stare into the messy scrawl that belongs to Shige.
Ryo,
Our time together was short, but it was the happiest, the best of my life.
Please don’t waste yours because I’m gone. You gave me everything I could have wanted, and so much more.
Live, Ryo. Promise me you’ll live. For me, if not for you.
I’ll always be there, wherever you are, wherever you go.
I love you,
Shige
*
Ryo never knew what kinds of flowers Shige liked, so everyday that he visits Shige’s grave, he brings a different kind.
The first day was yellow roses. Today they’re white calla lilies.
He sets the bouquet across the grave, and lights the incense. He presses his palms together before his chest, and closes his eyes, bows his head just slightly.
It’s been a three months, now. The concert tour ended a few weeks ago. Their album and single released together with the first day of the concert. The sales were through the roof. And that first night at the Tokyo Dome there were 55000 fans all with tear-streaked faces, with cheers louder than at any concert Ryo had ever participated in or attended before. Behind the scenes, all five NewS members had shed their own tears (though Koyama continued to cry on and off camera), and even the staff looked on with glossy eyes.
The five of them continue on separately; Ryo works now solely with Kanjani8, and although he misses NewS, he cannot hate having only one group to devote his attention on. Yamapi has gone solo, as was expected, already releasing a single and plans for a new concert coming up in the near future. Tegoshi and Massu have formed TegoMass as a permanent unit, while Koyama continues hosting Shounen Club, and is getting lead drama offers last Ryo heard.
Life goes on, the wheels turning every so steadily, pulling them all along for the ride. Ryo has finally come to terms with what’s happened. He still on occasion, finds himself calling out for Shige, or listening to his voicemail message, but otherwise he’s better than he was those first few days after his death. He’s started to pack some of Shige’s things away. Returning them to Shige’s parents, stopping there for a cup of tea as his mother won’t let him leave without a few idle moments of chitchat, but Ryo doesn’t mind, with her soft smiles and her eyes like Shige, he feels at home there, and has made himself promise to visit more often.
When Ryo misses Shige so deeply he cannot function, cannot think or speak or nearly breathe, he comes here, bows his head toward the grave. Here, with only the clear sky and the bright sun above, and the cool wind the wisps through his hair, the rustle of the tree leaves and the smoky haze of the incense, his heart becomes warm again and he revitalizes, rejuvenates.
Even in death, just as he did while he was alive, with his bright eyes and wide smiles and his low rumble of a laugh and his soft, lingering kisses, his warm breath as he whispers Ryo over and over, just like that, Shige reminds Ryo how to live.
end.
note: a;sldkgasdg sorry for the angst. D: i hope you enjoyed it! thank you for reading~