New fic.
Warnings: Possible character death, angst, possible probable personality assassination, yaoi (duh), possible probable pulling of stuff from my ass.
Notes: Kai doesn't get any love because he's Mother. You'll see what I mean eventually. As far as I know, this is the first ever Uruha/Hitsugi fanfic out there. Go me! This pairing honestly makes sense to me. If you don't like it, tell me why. I'll explain my reasoning. If you still don't get it, whatever. I wrote this for me, because I wanted Uruha/Hitsugi and couldn't find any.
Pairings: Uruha (GazettE)/Hitsugi (Naitomea), Aoi/Myv/Aoi, (definite) Ruki/Yomi, (possible) Ruki/Ruka/Yomi, one-sided (not for long!) Ni~ya/Sakito.
Summary: Hitsugi has just received some bad news. There's nothing he can do about it, but he's planning on trying anyway - for as long as he can (which turns out to be much shorter than expected). His friends watch as he falls, but one friend refuses to give him up.
“Put me to sleep, Evil Angel.
Open your wings, Evil Angel.
Fly over me, Evil Angel.
Why can't I breathe, Evil Angel?”
--Breaking Benjamin
It hit Hitsugi then - fresh from the doctor’s office, sitting on his couch, Ceecee curled up in his lap - that he was going to die. He had it straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. Six to eight months. Thirty-two weeks. Tops. Brushing the cat from his lap, the 25-year-old headed into his apartment’s kitchen for a beer. Hitsugi didn’t normally drink, but he kept alcohol around on a just-in-case/special occasions basis. This seemed as good an occasion as any. Sipping his beer, he headed into the bathroom to replace his various spiky piercings for his sleep ones. It might’ve been only eight in the evening, but for some reason, Hitsugi didn’t think he was going to be awake much longer. Putting his beer on the nightstand, Hitsugi stripped out of his clothes and quickly put on a pair of pajama bottoms.
Ignoring the still 3/4s full beer on the side table, Hitsugi climbed into bed. Turning his cell phone onto silent, Hitsugi laid back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m going to die.” Saying it out loud made it oh-so real. “I’m going to die no matter what I do. I’m going to slow down, get tired easily. I’m not going to see Yomi or Ni~ya or Sakito or Ruka or Mom or Dad, ever again. I’m not going to see Ruki, Aoi, Kai, Reita or Uruha anymore. Who’s going to take care of my cats? I’m going to need to write a will… I need to start saving money for my funeral, pay my debts. I - I - I can’t handle this.” And with that, Hitsugi rolled onto his side, facing the wall, squeezed his eyes shut tight, and as he drifted off, pretended that that wasn’t a tear rolling down his cheek.
♠~THE FOLLOWING WEEK ~♠
Hitsugi thought that he might very well hate needles. He hadn’t before. He didn’t mind them, really. After all, it was only in, push the plunger, out, Band-Aid. Bam, done. But now, he was pretty sure he hated them. Because the stuff that poured into his body when the doctor pushed the plunger was cold, and foreign, and _wrong_. It always made him sick, violently so. So sick, that by the time he was finished, he didn’t know which way was up or even what his name was. Hitsugi also thought that he might be scared. Scared out of his mind, as a matter of fact. Scared that the treatments would stop working, scared that he’d get worse, scared that when he told his friends they’d abandon him. That last fear was totally unfounded. Hitsugi knew none of GazettE or Naitomea would abandon him just because he was sick. He couldn’t help but be scared, though. Hitsugi thought that dying was a lot like grieving. You had steps. When you grieve, you go through anger, depression, denial, et cetera. Well, with death, you spend a rather long time on fear. Hitsugi absently wondered if maybe there actually _were_ steps to dying. It was a rather morbid thought.
“Hey, Hitsu-chan, are you ok? You’ve been kind of spacey all practice.” Ruka was there, concerned. Hitsugi didn’t want anyone worried over him. He quickly smiled. “Oh no, I’m fine. Just thinking of what to get Ceecee for her birthday.” Disbelief quickly flooded Ruka’s eyes. “You’re getting your cat something for it’s birthday - you _know_ your cat’s birthday?” Hitsugi had never lied to anyone before, so Ruka didn’t follow through with his concern. Hitsugi looked rather puzzled. “Um.. yes? Doesn’t everyone? Ceecee’s going to be three years old in four days, on Monday.” Ruka shook his head. “Sometimes, Hitsu, I swear you think those cats are people. But come on, it’s time to go. Practice is over, Neko Boy. You need a ride?” Hitsugi quickly shook his head. “No, I’m gonna ride the train. I need to run a few errands and that’s going to take me forever. You go ahead.” Hitsugi didn’t tell him that he had a doctor’s appointment, and was likely to be there from when he got there at four o’clock to nine o’clock that night.
Afterwards, Hitsugi laid on his bed, stunned. It was getting worse. He was dying faster.
₪ FLASHBACK ₪
Fidgeting slightly, Hitsugi wondered what the doctor wanted. His chemotherapy session was done, and Hitsugi, after quickly slipping on the hood he’d brought with him, no longer felt as if ice was running through his veins. He was distracted from chewing his thumbnail when the door opened.
“Ah, Mr. Ikari. How are we feeling this evening?” The doctor was pleasant enough, but Hitsugi desperately wanted away from the reminder of his illness.
“I’m as well as can be expected, given the circumstances. Um, doctor, what is it you wanted to see me for?” He somehow knew something was wrong, especially when the doctor began polishing his glasses.
“Ah, well…” The doctor stuttered. “I’m not exactly sure how to say this, but I’ve got some bad news.” Hitsugi briefly wondered if all doctors were long-winded or if it was only this one.
“Forgive my rudeness, doctor, but will you just spit it out?”
“Oh, yes, right. According to tests, it appears that several small tumors have developed along your lungs and heart. I’m sorry, but your cancer is getting worse.”
₪ END FLASHBACK ₪
And so now, here he laid. The dying man. Hitsugi suddenly laughed. “God, I’m getting morbid.” Turning onto his side, Hitsugi’s thoughts continued on. ‘I suppose I can’t feel too bad. There are worse diseases to have. Worse ways than my cells growing to fast to get a disease. Besides,
Jii-chan always said, “When you go, it is better, for you and your loved ones, to go with a smile on your face rather than to wallow in despair and self-pity.” A smile it is, then. I can be positive about this. I _can_. I _will_.’
And with that, tired from his long day, Hitsugi fell asleep, never hearing the trilling of his cell phone indicating a new message.
₪ END CHAPTER ₪
And in another note, I don't own these people or places or anything like that. I'm saying this once. As much as I want them to be, I don't own the J-rockers of this story. No J-rockers were harmed in the making of this fanfiction.
Notes: Kai doesn't get any love because he's Mother. You'll see what I mean eventually. As far as I know, this is the first ever Uruha/Hitsugi fanfic out there. Go me! This pairing honestly makes sense to me. If you don't like it, tell me why. I'll explain my reasoning. If you still don't get it, whatever. I wrote this for me, because I wanted Uruha/Hitsugi and couldn't find any.
Pairings: Uruha (GazettE)/Hitsugi (Naitomea), Aoi/Myv/Aoi, (definite) Ruki/Yomi, (possible) Ruki/Ruka/Yomi, one-sided (not for long!) Ni~ya/Sakito.
Summary: Hitsugi has just received some bad news. There's nothing he can do about it, but he's planning on trying anyway - for as long as he can (which turns out to be much shorter than expected). His friends watch as he falls, but one friend refuses to give him up.
“Put me to sleep, Evil Angel.
Open your wings, Evil Angel.
Fly over me, Evil Angel.
Why can't I breathe, Evil Angel?”
--Breaking Benjamin
It hit Hitsugi then - fresh from the doctor’s office, sitting on his couch, Ceecee curled up in his lap - that he was going to die. He had it straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. Six to eight months. Thirty-two weeks. Tops. Brushing the cat from his lap, the 25-year-old headed into his apartment’s kitchen for a beer. Hitsugi didn’t normally drink, but he kept alcohol around on a just-in-case/special occasions basis. This seemed as good an occasion as any. Sipping his beer, he headed into the bathroom to replace his various spiky piercings for his sleep ones. It might’ve been only eight in the evening, but for some reason, Hitsugi didn’t think he was going to be awake much longer. Putting his beer on the nightstand, Hitsugi stripped out of his clothes and quickly put on a pair of pajama bottoms.
Ignoring the still 3/4s full beer on the side table, Hitsugi climbed into bed. Turning his cell phone onto silent, Hitsugi laid back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m going to die.” Saying it out loud made it oh-so real. “I’m going to die no matter what I do. I’m going to slow down, get tired easily. I’m not going to see Yomi or Ni~ya or Sakito or Ruka or Mom or Dad, ever again. I’m not going to see Ruki, Aoi, Kai, Reita or Uruha anymore. Who’s going to take care of my cats? I’m going to need to write a will… I need to start saving money for my funeral, pay my debts. I - I - I can’t handle this.” And with that, Hitsugi rolled onto his side, facing the wall, squeezed his eyes shut tight, and as he drifted off, pretended that that wasn’t a tear rolling down his cheek.
♠~THE FOLLOWING WEEK ~♠
Hitsugi thought that he might very well hate needles. He hadn’t before. He didn’t mind them, really. After all, it was only in, push the plunger, out, Band-Aid. Bam, done. But now, he was pretty sure he hated them. Because the stuff that poured into his body when the doctor pushed the plunger was cold, and foreign, and _wrong_. It always made him sick, violently so. So sick, that by the time he was finished, he didn’t know which way was up or even what his name was. Hitsugi also thought that he might be scared. Scared out of his mind, as a matter of fact. Scared that the treatments would stop working, scared that he’d get worse, scared that when he told his friends they’d abandon him. That last fear was totally unfounded. Hitsugi knew none of GazettE or Naitomea would abandon him just because he was sick. He couldn’t help but be scared, though. Hitsugi thought that dying was a lot like grieving. You had steps. When you grieve, you go through anger, depression, denial, et cetera. Well, with death, you spend a rather long time on fear. Hitsugi absently wondered if maybe there actually _were_ steps to dying. It was a rather morbid thought.
“Hey, Hitsu-chan, are you ok? You’ve been kind of spacey all practice.” Ruka was there, concerned. Hitsugi didn’t want anyone worried over him. He quickly smiled. “Oh no, I’m fine. Just thinking of what to get Ceecee for her birthday.” Disbelief quickly flooded Ruka’s eyes. “You’re getting your cat something for it’s birthday - you _know_ your cat’s birthday?” Hitsugi had never lied to anyone before, so Ruka didn’t follow through with his concern. Hitsugi looked rather puzzled. “Um.. yes? Doesn’t everyone? Ceecee’s going to be three years old in four days, on Monday.” Ruka shook his head. “Sometimes, Hitsu, I swear you think those cats are people. But come on, it’s time to go. Practice is over, Neko Boy. You need a ride?” Hitsugi quickly shook his head. “No, I’m gonna ride the train. I need to run a few errands and that’s going to take me forever. You go ahead.” Hitsugi didn’t tell him that he had a doctor’s appointment, and was likely to be there from when he got there at four o’clock to nine o’clock that night.
Afterwards, Hitsugi laid on his bed, stunned. It was getting worse. He was dying faster.
₪ FLASHBACK ₪
Fidgeting slightly, Hitsugi wondered what the doctor wanted. His chemotherapy session was done, and Hitsugi, after quickly slipping on the hood he’d brought with him, no longer felt as if ice was running through his veins. He was distracted from chewing his thumbnail when the door opened.
“Ah, Mr. Ikari. How are we feeling this evening?” The doctor was pleasant enough, but Hitsugi desperately wanted away from the reminder of his illness.
“I’m as well as can be expected, given the circumstances. Um, doctor, what is it you wanted to see me for?” He somehow knew something was wrong, especially when the doctor began polishing his glasses.
“Ah, well…” The doctor stuttered. “I’m not exactly sure how to say this, but I’ve got some bad news.” Hitsugi briefly wondered if all doctors were long-winded or if it was only this one.
“Forgive my rudeness, doctor, but will you just spit it out?”
“Oh, yes, right. According to tests, it appears that several small tumors have developed along your lungs and heart. I’m sorry, but your cancer is getting worse.”
₪ END FLASHBACK ₪
And so now, here he laid. The dying man. Hitsugi suddenly laughed. “God, I’m getting morbid.” Turning onto his side, Hitsugi’s thoughts continued on. ‘I suppose I can’t feel too bad. There are worse diseases to have. Worse ways than my cells growing to fast to get a disease. Besides,
Jii-chan always said, “When you go, it is better, for you and your loved ones, to go with a smile on your face rather than to wallow in despair and self-pity.” A smile it is, then. I can be positive about this. I _can_. I _will_.’
And with that, tired from his long day, Hitsugi fell asleep, never hearing the trilling of his cell phone indicating a new message.
₪ END CHAPTER ₪
And in another note, I don't own these people or places or anything like that. I'm saying this once. As much as I want them to be, I don't own the J-rockers of this story. No J-rockers were harmed in the making of this fanfiction.