Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Sorry ❯ chapter 11 ( Chapter 11 )

“Sorry”

Written by: Chocho

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation.

Story summary: AU. Ryuichi? Or Eiri? That is the question. Who will Shuichi chose? (Shu/Ryu, Ryu/Tatsuha, Shu/Eiri)

Chapter summary: Eiri and Shuichi have a little heart to heart (part 2)

Warning: Language, OOC (Duh! Do I look like the creator?)

Sources: Based on the song “Sorry” by Madonna

A/N: When I talk about Shuichi and Eiri's relationship before the Zepp Tokyo concert I am talking about the manga version because they had established much more of a relationship in that version then they had in the anime, though I am referring to the Bad Luck concert from the anime.

 

***

 

Chapter 11

 

[“That jerk cheated on you! He lied to you! He used you! And yet you still love him!” His voice broke. “Why, Shuichi? Why do you stay with him?”

 

A sad little smile crossed Shuichi's lips. “Because he's my husband.”]

 

*

 

The cool night air wrapped around Eiri, fingering his dirty blond locks as he stood on the balcony leaning over the railing gazing out over the city. He could feel the edges of the railing pressing into his forearms. He ignored the discomfort. Instead he fed from it, used it fuel his scattered emotions and thoughts. Grey smoke curled into the air from the cigarette clamped in his mouth, hazing the city lights that littered the landscape and broke up the blanket of night. Like back home it was impossible to see the night sky the way it was meant to be seen because of the light pollution. But the moon, deceptively full, was high in the sky, shinning brightly down upon them all. He could hear the distant sound of traffic. It played a smooth lullaby, lulling him into a semi meditative trance. From behind him he could hear the playful slapping of the blinds as they clapped in the light breeze.

 

Peering over his shoulder, he glanced through the partially closed blinds, through the closed gauzy curtains and across the dimly lit suite towards the room door. A long shaft of light from the hallway lit the carpet, illuminating a partially visible Shuichi who was standing right outside the room speaking to someone out in the hallway. He could hear his muffled, but could not make out what he or his visitor was saying.

 

Turning back around, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled a stream of smoke into the dark night as he tapped the gathering ashes over the railing.

 

As he stared over the sleeping city, his fisted hands snapped the smoldering cigarette in half and clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth. His eyes hardened.

 

[“Because he's my husband.”]

 

Eiri sneered, baring his gleaming fangs.

 

[“Because he's my husband.”]

 

Eiri cursed soundly and tossed his broken cigarette over the railing with a snap of his wrist. Standing up, he grabbed the balcony railing, gripping it so tightly that it bit into his hands.

 

Damn him, he thought angrily. Why? He said he loved me. He said he wanted to be with me. So, why? Eiri slammed his fist into the railing, ignoring the stinging pain. Dammit, why? The anger vanished as suddenly as it appeared, leaving him feeling drained. Why?

 

Choking back a sob, he bent over the railing and masked his face in his hands. Combing his fingers through his hair, he clasped his hands together and gazed out over the city.

 

*

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shuichi sighed with a roll of his eyes. He stepped backwards into his room.

 

“I mean it, Shu. You have an early day tomorrow.”

 

“I know!”

 

Daisuke searched the singer's face. There was something there, something he could not quite put his finger on. “Are you sure you're alright?” he asked in concern.

 

Shuichi sighed heavily. “Yes,” he answered exasperated.

 

“Okay,” Daisuke said, not fully convinced. “…You know that if you ever need to talk…”

 

“Thanks Daisuke,” Shuichi smiled sweetly. “But I'm fine. Really.”

 

“You-?”

 

“Night, Daisuke,” Shuichi called as he made a move to swing the door shut.

 

Daisuke stepped forward at the last minute and grabbed the door. “Shu-“

 

“Good night, Daisuke,” Shuichi repeated with more force.

 

“But, I-!”

 

Shuichi smiled at the man, wiggling his fingers in farewell as he let the door swing shut. It closed with a quiet click. Immediately the smile slipped. Shuichi heaved a grateful sigh as he sagged against the door. “Man, that guy just won't let up.”

 

“Who's that?” came the sudden voice behind him.

 

Shuichi gasped and twirled around. “Yuki,” he breathed in surprise, a hand over his racing heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

 

Eiri shoved the vertical blinds aside and stepped through the curtains into the suite, a scowl on his face. “Who was that?” he repeated, his voice hard.

 

Shuichi blinked, a little surprised and confused at Eiri's tone. “Who? Daisuke?”

 

“Who's he?” Eiri demanded, his voice dangerously low.

 

“Bad Luck's manager,” Shuichi said with a frown.

 

“Manager?” Eiri repeated in disbelief.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What about that crazy American?”

 

Shuichi blinked, uncertain who he was referring to. “…Oh! You mean K?”

 

“Isn't he your manager?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then?”

 

“Then…what?”

Eiri indicated the door directly behind Shuichi. “Then what about that guy?” he growled impatiently.

 

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at the door. “You mean Daisuke?”

 

“Yes!” How the hell had he fallen in love with such an idiot?

 

“Well,” Shuichi said, scratching his head, “he's more like a co-manager.” He picked his way through the suite to the couch, huddling into the corner farthest away from Eiri with his knees folded beneath him.

 

“A co-manager? Is that like a vice president?” Eiri joked. “What? Is the job of looking after you geeks too tough a job for just one baboon so they had to go and hire another one?”

 

“…” Shuichi blinked stupidly, his face unchanging. “Hey!” he cried, glaring at the writer, feeling offended.

 

Eiri chuckled.

 

Shuichi crossed his arms over his chest. “Jerk,” he pouted with a huff.

 

Still chuckling, Eiri studied his little baka and noticed for the thousandth time that night just how adorably cute Shuichi was.

 

Eiri skirted the armchair and crossing his arms over his chest, perched himself on the arm. “So.”

 

“So what?” Shuichi asked as he swung his legs out from under him and hugged them to his chest. His wiggled his bare toes over the edge of the cushions and rested his cheek on his knee.

 

“So why do you need two managers?”

 

“Oh, well, Daisuke was hired by Mr. Seguchi after K's wife found out she had cancer.”

 

Eiri cocked an eyebrow. “He's married.”

 

“Yeah,” Shuichi nodded. “His wife's an actress in the States.”

 

“Uh, huh.” He was not sure what was scary; the man being married or the woman who married him.

 

“K said that we shouldn't worry though. He said she would not let a little something like cancer get the better of her.”

 

It sounded like he was quoting. “How long's this man…?”

 

“Daisuke.”

 

Eiri nodded. “How long's he been your manager?”

 

Shuichi say back against the cushions and ran his hands up and down his thighs.

 

“Uhm…For about…maybe seven months? Eight?” He shrugged. “Something like that.”

 

Eiri frowned. Eight months huh? That about the time Tatsuha started seeing his “mystery lover”, which he just found out had been none other than Sakuma Ryuichi. That was a mighty big coincidence if you asked him. “What did he want?”

 

“Huh?” Shuichi turned towards the writer.

 

“What did your manager want?”

 

“Oh, he wants me in bed,” Shuichi answered, turning away.

 

“Really,” Eiri commented, his voice thick. He was not the only one.

 

Shuichi lifted his head with a surprised flutter of lashes. “Huh?” He turned and met Eiri's heated gaze. Shuichi inhaled sharply. His pulse began to race and his palms grew slick. A hot blush glazed his cheeks. He licked lips gone dry and tore his gaze away from Eiri's blazing one to stare studiously at the carpet, trying to ignore the penetrating eyes boring into the side of his head.

 

Ugly carpet, Shuichi thought. He preferred hard wood floors.

 

His eyes never leaving Shuichi's face, Eiri dropped his arms to his sides and stood up. Rounding the coffee table, he made his way over to the sofa. Sitting down on the edge of the seat, he faced a fiercely blushing Shuichi. He took pride in the fact that he was the reason why Shuichi's face was so red. God, how he loved this boy! But that was what was at the core of this problem. Slowly the fire died and went cold. A frown slipped across his face.

 

[“Because he's my husband.”]

 

Eiri gritted his teeth, snarling softly. He had half a mind to just sweep Shuichi into his arms and carry him off to some uncharted island in the middle of the ocean and make him forget all about Sakuma and think only of him.

 

Forcing himself to calm down, he took deep, even breathes.

 

He had to know.

 

He had a right to know.

 

He deserved an answer.

 

Pumped up, he asked softly, “Why?”

 

Shuichi blinked, his embarrassment instantly forgotten. He turned to face Eiri. “What?”

 

Eiri scooted a little closer to his baka. He stared right into those large violet eyes. “Why?”

 

Shuichi stared back at Eiri, searching those hard hazel eyes that did not look so golden anymore. Suddenly he was not feeling so golden anymore. His face slipped. Unable to bear those searching, demanding eyes any longer, Shuichi turned away. He knew what Eiri was asking, what he wanted to hear. But Shuichi was not sure if he had the answer, or rather, the answer Eiri wanted to hear. “I don't know,” he finally said, breaking the silence. His stomach twisted and his heart gave a painful jolt as he heard what it was he said. He wished he had a better answer.

 

That was not good enough. “Why?” Eiri demanded harshly.

 

Shuichi shook his head. “I don't know,” he repeated softly, his voice tight and thick with tears.

 

Eiri fisted a hand and slammed it against the coffee table, startling Shuichi who jumped with a yelp. “Why?”

 

With tears prickling his eyes, Shuichi cried, “Dammit, I don't know!”

 

Some of the wind was taken from his sail. He was not sure if he totally believed Shuichi's answer. “…Do you love him?” Eiri asked him carefully.

 

Sniffling, Shuichi glanced at Eiri out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

 

“Sakuma,” Eiri cried impatiently. “Do. You. Love. Him.”

 

“He's my husband.”

 

[“Because he's my husband.”]

 

Eiri fisted his hands. “That's not what I asked,” he snapped in annoyance.

 

Shuichi jumped with a wince.

 

Eiri tried to get a hold of his emotions. “Do you feel for him what you feel for me?” he asked evenly.

 

Why was Eiri asking him this? Shuichi shook his head. He could not do this. He made a move to stand up, but a tight vice-like grip on his upper arm held him fast, yanking his back down. “Ow!” Shuichi cried in pain as he felt Eiri's fingers digging into him.

 

“Do you feel for him what you feel for me?” Eiri repeated, jerking Shuichi towards him. He shook Shuichi none too gently when the boy remained silent. “Shuichi!”

 

“No,” Shuichi sobbed loudly, startling them both.

 

Eiri's grip loosened.

 

With tears trickling down his face, Shuichi shook his head. “No, I don't.”

 

That was a surprise, a most welcomed surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. Eiri shook himself. “Did you?” he asked gently.

 

Shuichi cradled his sore arm.

 

He thought back over his relationship with Ryuichi, really thought about it. He idolized Ryuichi. The man was his god, his inspiration. He was his best friend. Shuichi knew that Ryuichi was the one person he could always go to whenever he had a problem. Ryuichi was always there for him. Ryuichi loved him. Ryuichi was there for him when Eiri had not been. But…did that constitute him being in love? He did care about Ryuichi. Very much. His feelings for the man went way beyond that of just mere friendship. He could not imagine his life without him, despite what the older singer did to him, but…did he love him? Had he ever loved him? Or had he just drowned his broken heart and sorrow in a childhood crush; fool himself into believing he felt more for this man than he actually did because the one man he had wanted a future with wanted nothing to do with him? That was the question, wasn't it?

 

“I…I don't know,” he admitted truthfully.

 

Eiri fumed with anger. How was this so difficult? But one glimpse at Shuichi's face and his fury ebbed away. Shuichi looked absolutely miserable. Maybe this really was not as easy as he wanted it to be. One of Shuichi's main flaws was that he was loyal almost to a fault. So even though Shuichi knew he should end it with Sakuma, he made a promise, a vow, and Shuichi probably felt strongly about those vows, despite the betrayal.

 

Reaching out, Eiri cupped Shuichi's hand, lacing their fingers together. He gave that hand a gentle squeeze. Shuichi turned towards him and smiled. Eiri returned that smile. He cupped Shuichi's cheek with his free hand. Shuichi leaned into the warm touch. Turning his head, his planted a chaste kiss on the palm of Eiri's hand. Still smiling, he leaned against Eiri's side, hugging his other arm around the arm that held fastly to his hand.

 

Shuichi was not sure about anything right now. He knew what he should do, but…Why was this so hard?

 

“Will you come back to Japan with me?” Eiri whispered, his voice breaking through the silence.

 

Shuichi tensed.

 

“Will you give us another chance?”

 

***