Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ The Opposite of Gravity ❯ Escaping the Shadows ( Chapter 7 )

Author's Note: I apologize for the repeat of chapters! I hope this helps with the story making sense! -_-

Track Seven: Escaping the Shadows

        Tachi Aizawa shivered as an ache, colder and deeper than any he'd ever known, flowed over his skin, chilling him to the bone.  His fingers were shaking and the icy metal in his hands fell onto the wet black top with a sickening clatter that made his stomach flop.  An overwhelming wave of nausea flared over his mind, and he leaned to the side, dry retching until he could only gasp for breath, hoping that he was still alive.  It had been a dream, he couldn't even remember where the gun had come from, and that contempt-filled gaze that had peered at him from behind the stage curtain had brought him back to a reality of flowing blood and screaming fans, and it had torn out his very soul.  Aizawa curled into a ball, the empty alley comforting the emotional pain he felt, and he ignored the seeping wetness soaking the material of his jeans as he sobbed into his fists, weak, abused, and above all, stupid.

        `Doushite?  Doushite?  I shouldn't have come back-' He gripped the cold brick of the building above him, his feet kicking the murderous weapon between overfilled garbage cans, and he staggered to stand, tripping over his own legs to get himself moving.  He had to find refuge, his entire body was beginning to shut down, and all he could think about were beautiful blue eyes and ragged brown hair.  Aizawa screamed in agony, startling innocent people as he stumbled on, blindly leading himself to a place, any place, that would welcome him for what he had been.  He couldn't live with himself anymore, not after everything he had done, but something within him demanded that he survive.  Was it for the love he'd felt, what seemed, an eternity ago?

        The last thing he acutely recalled thinking was that there was a light on in the window he stared desperately at, and he thought he could hear familiar voices from inside.  Aizawa knocked, his fingers shaking involuntarily, and the laugh that sounded instantly made him sigh in relief.

        He was home.

        "It's about time," a soft masculine tone spoke, but not directly to him.  "I was thinking of eating you instead, Ken-chan." Blonde hair cascaded over a half-clothed shoulder as the door swung open, and Aizawa stared into blinking eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening because of the liberation flooding over him.

        "What is it, Ma-kun?" Another face appeared beside the other man a moment later, shock washing over his features as well, and the vocalist immediately felt his teeth begin to chatter.

        He was cold.  So cold…

        "Tachi?" Emotions exploded in a single wave.  Ma and Ken wrapped the shivering Aizawa in their combined embrace, almost on the verge of tears as they babbled incessantly.  They hadn't seen him in a while, only brief moments over the past month, and they couldn't believe that he was really there.  They had missed him too much for words to express; Aizawa had always been the calm and collected one, their leader, and the completion of ASK, but when he had disappeared, hell had broken loose.  NG-Records wanted nothing to do with them anymore, they were a fragmented band, and there had been no explanation as to why it had happened, though Ma and Ken had a vague idea.  They weren't stupid, and they knew Aizawa shouldn't have touched that Shindou kid…not at all.

        "Ma-kun...Ken-chan..." Aizawa rattled, unable to feel the lower half of his body.  He couldn't even tell if he was standing.  "Gomen.  G-gomen-"

        "Maa, daijoubu, Tachi," Ken answered, slipping beneath Ma's arms to hold the door.  "Come in.  Come in." Working together, they managed to drag their nearly lifeless friend into the apartment and put him on the couch before retrieving a jacket from the tiny closet.  The place wasn't very big, but it suited them for the lifestyle they now lived, away from the glimmer and popularity of being Japanese pop stars.  Ma played with the sleeve of the jacket momentarily and then handed it to Aizawa, realizing that holding it wasn't improving the situation of the quivering vocalist.  Aizawa stared dumbfounded at it, trying to decipher it like a riddle, and he numbly slipped a hand through the arm, his motor skills as frozen as his body.

        "Naa, Tachi..." Golden strands slipped over the ASK member's forehead as he stared at the plush carpet, torn between curiosity and contempt.  He desperately wanted to know what Aizawa had been doing, where he had disappeared to after the alleged attempt on his life by Seguchi Tohma, but Ma could not form the right sentences in his mouth.  Aizawa's tongue was also heavy, laden with the guilt he felt for betraying those he cared so much for, and he buried himself within the coat Ma had given him, afraid to look at his comrades and confess the truth.  What would they really think of him if they found out he had...he had…

        He couldn't even admit it to himself; it was just too unbelievable to be real!

        "Gomen.  Gomen, Ma-kun.  Ken-chan," he apologized over and over, hot tears burning his eyes.  "I didn't mean-"

        "Naa, daijoubu, Tachi.  It's alright," Ma interrupted, grabbing Ken by the hand and dragging him to sit on the couch beside the singer.  "There's nothing to be sorry for."

        "Yeah," Ken added, giving him a small smile.  Aizawa just gazed at them, immediately saddened by the way they were looking at him with hope.

        They would never understand.

        "Iie.  It's unforgivable, and…and I dragged both of you down with me.  You should never have trusted me."

        "We're a team.  Stop saying that it's all your fault!" Ma commanded harshly, his handsome features creasing in anger.  "That's all you've done since those things happened to that Shindou kid!  I'm sick of it!  We're all sick of it, Tachi!" Ken didn't say anything and examined his clasped hands with newfound interest.  Aizawa blinked in surprise.

        Ma was the stronger one; he always had been.

        "Demo-"

        "IIE!  No more, Tachi.  Just accept it and move on.  We have and…and we're glad that you've come back," he whispered quietly, reaching over to take him by the hand.  Aizawa jerked away.

        "Don't," he whimpered weakly, forcing his legs to work as he stood and tumbled towards the door he'd been dragged through.  Someone had closed it.  "Don't bother-" The doorbell rang unexpectedly, and Aizawa fell backwards, his heart pounding too fast to control.  His ebony hair was plastered to the nape of his neck, and he could feel the color in his face draining away.  They had found him!  They had tracked him down, and they would do terrible things to Ma and Ken -never mind himself- and…and…

        "Tachi, what's wrong?" Ma asked as Ken answered the door and returned moments later with a box smelling of greasy cheese and spicy pepperoni.

        "The pizza's here, Ma-chan!" he exclaimed, almost forgetting that Aizawa was on the floor, breathing heavily and paler than snow.  "I-"

        "B-bathroom," Aizawa blurted out, his hand instantly covering his mouth as another flash of nausea overcame him, and he scrambled into the next room, shoving Ma out of the way and leaving Ken to his pizza as he desperately searched for a toilet.  He was going to get sick, his body couldn't handle the overload anymore, and Aizawa eventually tripped into a surprisingly spacious bathroom, his legs collapsing beneath him as he threw up into the clear porcelain bowl, but nothing came because there was nothing in his stomach to lose.  He had already rid himself of everything in the alley, and all that remained was the sickening sensation of what he had done and what he could not be forgiven for.

        He had shot someone, some young, innocent boy who still had the rest of his life to live out.  He had nearly murdered someone and had caused too many people pain.  Even worse than that, he couldn't figure out why.

        HE DIDN'T KNOW WHY!

        Aizawa collapsed on the cool tiles of the floor, his hands shaking even as he reached into the pocket of the jacket around him, desperate to find something to wipe his mouth on.  His fingers brushed over an object buried within the depths of the clothing, and he withdrew it, comprehending with some intellect that it was a piece of faded paper.  Aizawa brought it to his lips, too frail to look for anything else, and he almost spit into it, riding himself of the vile taste on his tongue, until curved and loopy handwriting decorating it caught his attention.  Weakly, he unfolded it, his vision focusing for a fleeting moment on the letters and numbers before he completely crumpled onto the bathroom floor, cradling the fragment of memory against his chest.

        "Give me another," Aizawa slurred at the man standing behind the counter, running the tap.  Although he was the only one, there were a few other people wandering in from outside, and Aizawa only sensed the beginning of his sorrow.  ASK was going to hell, thanks to a bunch of high school-aged brats who were stealing his fame, and there was nothing he could do to ease the pain except drink.  He'd been here since he'd convinced Ma to cut their practice hours early.  The bartender glanced sympathetically at him.

        "Perhaps you shouldn't-"

        "Just give it to me!" he yelled, slapping his hand on the hard top, ignoring the sting shooting up his wrist.  The guy only blinked at him and shakily tipped the liquor bottle over the rim of Aizawa's shot glass, filling it to the rim.  "Arigato." He nursed drink with the same efficiency he had the others. An out-of-place laugh suddenly startled him, almost making him spill the alcohol on the floor.

        "Konnichi wa, sensei-sama!" a familiar voice cried happily, a thin body settling itself comfortably next to him.  Aizawa couldn't have cared less who it was and continued to sip the cool liquor, closing his eyes to savor what little taste was left to it.

        "Oi, Sakuma-san!  Same as usual?"

        "Hai!" There was an exchange of money and a glass slipping across the counter, and then, Aizawa blinked, turning his head to the side.  Though his vision was partially distorted from intoxication, he could easily make out greenish-brown hair brushed neatly over a smooth face greedily swallowing something obviously non-alcoholic.  Aizawa could sense the enlightened smell of apples radiating from him, and he wrinkled his nose.

        "Sakuma-san, eh?" he asked, staring at the bottom of his glass.  "How nice." Blue eyes blinked at him.

        "Who are you, Na No?" Aizawa couldn't help the grin, he had no idea why, and that had been the beginning.  They'd talked for hours in that small bar, and when Ryuichi had offered to give him his number, he could not resist.  "In case you get lost, No Da," he murmured, sliding the paper secretively into his hand with a bewitching smile.  "You can never be too safe." Aizawa pulled Ryuichi to him, ignoring the stupid look on the bartender's face, and he cupped his chin, their noses brushing. 

        "What makes you think I'll get lost?" Ryuichi snickered.

        "I just have a feeling." And, he kissed him, his mouth soft and pliant against his own.

        Aizawa licked his lips, faintly tasting the apple juice on his breath from that time, and the salt melted onto his tongue, the tears hot on his cheeks as reality burned into his heart.

        He cried.

TBC-