Beautiful

by NightMajik

Dedication: Razzy, because you’ve helped me an incredible amount even though this isn’t a nice fic for Daidai. And Agatha, because you’re you and you slobber on me constantly. XD

*HUUUGS TO YOU BOTH*

Beautiful: Part Ten - In Our Tears

*

Shinya was the next to leave, excusing himself politely with a quiet “ja ne, minna-san,” as he hastily went out into the parking lot. A soft wind washed through his hair, pulling tendrils of hair across his pale face. In the light of a failing dusk he searched the parking lot with his eyes, gaze scanning through the remains of blue light and flickering shadow that blended smoothly and disconcertingly together.

His gaze landed on Die’s car as the guitarist turned the engine on and two red back lights burned into life, gleaming like crimson orbs of ire in the darkness. He pulled out of his parking spot as Shinya set foot onto the asphalt of the lot.

The slim drummer judged Die’s course with his eyes, knowing where Die would pass by, and he angled his steps in that direction. As Die’s car neared, Shinya increased his pace, lifting one arm in a gesture to halt. He could not see Die through the windows due to the dark light of approaching night, but Die must have seen him because his quickening speed began to slow.

The car rolled to a stop and Shinya ran up to the window gratefully but warily as it rolled down. He was faced with the stark flatness of Die’s gaze.

“What?” Die snapped.

Shinya’s expression was solemn. “Can you give me a ride?”

Flicker of confusion, an impulsive look around, out the opposite window where the remaining cars were parked. Die frowned back at Shinya. “Your car is here.”

“I know.”

Die glared at him. “What the hell do you want, Shinya?” he demanded, weariness pervading his anger. “Where do you expect me to drive you?”

“Wherever you’re going.”

Dark eyes turned flatly severe. “Leave me alone.”

“No.”

Die started to roll up the window.

“I just want to talk,” Shinya added, letting pleading slip into his voice. The window paused, Die hesitated.

Die’s voice, however, was sure. “Yeah? Well, I don’t,” he returned.

“Aren’t you tired, Die?” Shinya continued emphatically. “Of being along?”

“I’m tired of you,” came the annoyed response. The window began to continue its progress and Shinya, moving before he had a chance to clearly think, reached up and closed his fingers over the top. He could not stop its movement, however, and as the window neared the top he flinched, knowing he couldn’t pull his hands back in time and preparing for the pain.

But the sting never came and the window stopped moving, was then rolled back down partially. Shinya, relieved, heard Die’s voice float out with a warning tone.

“Shinya...”

“Come on, Die, aren’t you tired of facing all of this alone?” He spoke heedless of the warning. “Everything that happens, everything new that changes is *hurting* you, I know it is, it’s hurting me too...”

A quick, bitter counter. “You think you can help?” demanded Die with obvious derision.

“No, no one can help any of us in this, not in the way we want,” he replied immediately. “But you’re poisoning yourself by keeping things inside.”

Long pause. Then: “...Is this about you, then, Shinya? Looking for a shoulder to cry on?” Die’s voice still maintained it’s caustic bitterness, but those emotions were only a shield. They may have been real, but they were not the only real thing to Die.

< You think you’re at the end of my quest, Die? My search for some sense of comfort? No, no you’re not... I’ve been to that end. There’s nothing there. Nothing, no one. Only the road, the search... Hopeless and endless. >

When the window rolled back down Shinya regained his clear view of Die’s stony eyes. He straightened, lifted his chin slightly. “Maybe,” he replied softly. “In a way...”

< But only in a way. I know you can’t help me... Talking to you... nothing will make any of this better. Nothing will change. >

He continued to speak, half-voicing his thoughts in his words. “But talking... It never changes anything, it can’t, but sometimes it can help.”

< Never fully, never indefinitely, but it’s easier to share some of these things than to let them fester within. >

Die’s cold gaze remained even, dark eyes stared at him. Die shook his head after a long moment, beginning slowly, but then doing so more forcefully.

“No,” he repeated. “I don’t want to hear it, Shinya. Whatever you have to say, what you think you can say—I don’t care.” He looked away with a certain finality in his actions. “I’m leaving.”

“Damn you, Die,” Shinya said, voice coming out like a growl, eyes flaring. His thoughts flickered back to the way he had confronted Die in the parking lot once before, after Die said he was leaving Dir en Grey. How Die had responded only to challenge, to anger, how the pleading and reasoning had affected him not enough to change anything.

“This isn’t just about you, stop being so Goddamn selfish...! I’m trying to tell you that you are not alone in this, that the world has not turned against you and only you.

“This hasn’t all happened to you, it has happened to *all* of us.” Shinya gestured sharply. His voice remained low, never approaching a shout, but the intensity within his eyes and his words grew, he let some of that deep, perpetual pain reach the surface. “Kaoru left me, he *left* me just like Toshiya left you. I can’t think of tomorrow without wishing, wishing it hadn’t happened this way, that he still loved me. But he doesn’t, and I’m still here, wishing, watching him, around him, *loving* him. Are you so *selfish* to believe you’re pain is deeper, that no one can understand? Are you wallowing so deep in your sorrow-”

“Shut up, Shinya,” Die snarled, eyes flaring maliciously. “Leave me the hell alone.”

“Why?” he snapped, lacing his tone with derision, eyes with a hard flare. “So you can go think about how awful it is for *you*, how everyone is against *you*, and feel sorry for yourself?” Die opened his mouth, but Shinya continued relentlessly. “So maybe I should go do the same thing. Sit around and feel bad, damn everyone else for hurting me. I should create anger and justify it, find some self-righteous reason to blame everyone else?”

There was venom in Shinya’s voice, poignant and affecting. His words were cruel—perhaps truthfully so—and Die’s eyes were menacing, his features rigid and jaw tense in response to this onslaught. He stared hard at Shinya, eyes of ice sharp like stone.

Shinya kept his own eyes steady, gazed back, lifted his chin slightly. He kept the antagonism and defiance in his features, letting the rigid expression on his countenance continue to express his unwillingness to back down and to also express that there was conviction in his words.

And then, although Die’s eyes never changed, although the angry, perhaps hurtful, words ready to fall were pulled back if not forgotten, a very small sigh, not of defeat but of grudging acquiescence, escaped his lips.

His eyes slid away, fixing stonily ahead of him, out the windshield. “Get in,” he commanded sharply, simply.

Shinya breathed a quiet sigh as the wind rose to drift by. He released the tenseness into the air and swallowed that fire back within himself, fragile, tensely held limbs withering away from that stiffness.

Carefully he pulled the pain and anger back within. He had used those burning emotions to make Die see some sense, make him see another’s hurt. He had gained the right to speak with Die, and he would have to keep that anger on hand to use, but he couldn’t allow it to overcome him. A lifetime of managing emotion would help him be sure of that.

Shinya complied without another word—of thanks or otherwise—knowing that he had won this battle but feeling no sense of victory. Perhaps because he didn’t believe he could stop fighting, not yet.

He swiftly moved around the car and slipped into the passenger seat. As soon as he closed the door Die was driving again, and the guitarist did not look at him, his hard expression became blank.

Shinya sat quietly, not asking where they were going because he didn’t really car. Die’s house, a bar?

< I guess I’ll know soon. >

They ended up at a bar that Shinya recognized having been to before, but not sure how long ago that was. It seemed like Dir en Grey had come in the past, and had since stopped. Maybe that way the others wouldn’t for some reason come upon them.

That same silence vibrated between them as they went inside, as they sat down. Wordlessly Die had led them to a table in the corner. The only time the stillness had rippled was when Die asked Shinya what he wanted to drink. Shinya asked only for water and a few moments later Die returned with a beer and a water.

Then silence, silence. Shinya gazed into the fractured depths of his water, not really drinking, merely staring at the crystal ripples. After that quiet pervaded—not entirely uncomfortable, but at the same time unnatural—Die broke it with quiet, steel words.

“Shinya. Why are you here? What do you want?”

Shinya lifted his eyes. “I told you... I don’t want anything from you.”

“Then why are you here?” Die repeated flatly.

Shinya shrugged slightly, a flicker of that defiance lighting his eyes in response to the derogatory severity of Die’s voice. But he spoke quietly, without anger. “....To talk, I guess. To not be alone.”

Die’s eyes remained on him, studying, almost searching but not in a compassionate manner. “So talk.”

Shinya looked away, breathed a quiet sigh. “Alright,” he murmured. “Die... I said this once before, and I can only say it again. You’re not the only one being hurt.” From the corner of his eye he saw Die’s mouth open to speak, but he only turned to face the other man directly in response, continuing softly but firmly. “But more than that... Even if we’ve all being hurt, it’s been in different ways. But with us—I know how you feel. I know what it’s like, I know what you’re feeling because we’re in the same position.”

Die closed his mouth, stared at Shinya flatly.

< Don’t hold so jealously to your pain, Die... Don’t seek some sort of righteousness in any of this, because it is not there. Don’t try to wall yourself in with your hurt because you think it’s all yours and it cannot be shared. It already is shared. >

“I know how you’re feeling, Die,” Shinya continued. “I know how hard it is... I still love Kaoru,” he whispered. “And it hasn’t grown less since this began, it hasn’t started to fade because I know he’s moving on. I *love* him, and it goes so deep that I don’t know if that will ever change.

“But it’s too early to say that, it’s too early to say it won’t change because there’s still so much ahead of us. Maybe... maybe this feeling will fade. I don’t know. Right now, it may feel like it will never change—the fact that I love him, the fact that it hurts so Goddamn much; I know you feel the same way...—but I feel, at the same time, that it will *have* to change someday.”

“And what?” Die snapped in response, words falling almost immediately upon Shinya’s, his harshness rivaling the raw empathy of Shinya’s voice. “You want to share with me your wisdom? Make me accept defeat like you?”

“I said nothing about wisdom,” he replied acidly, voice low, expression darkening. “I don’t pretend to know what I’m talking about, Die, to speak for you or anyone but what’s inside me, for myself and for the way I feel, for the way I *hurt*. What would you have me do?” he challenged. “Turn against the one I love?”

Die’s gaze became murderous, Shinya saw his hand, resting on the table, tighten into a fist. “I didn’t turn against him,” Die growled.

Shinya let the words slide by him, tactfully did not respond and let neither acceptance of Die’s words nor disagreement enter his face. That subject was far too volatile to touch upon, he knew, and it was not necessarily the best choice to have even spoken that accusation in the first place. He continued, letting that tangent fade.

“And I said nothing about defeat,” he continued, voice harsh. “You can’t look at things that way, in terms of winning or losing. It is just something that has happened and if I don’t accept it there is nothing else I *can* do.”

Again, that challenging stare flashed between them. Eyes searching and hiding, words seeking to make sense of the pain of another, words seeking to soothe and turn away, to hurt and to help. That tension still surrounded Die, that reflexive rise to anger and resolve to push others away with a certain violence.

But he said no more, once again seeming to want to continue in anger but holding back. Shinya studied him in silence, wondering at the way Die was finally listening to him.

< Is this the only way I can get through to you, Die? With my own anger, using my pain to express this? >

< What was it like for Toshiya...? Having to face you. Face the way you feel, this anger. You’re not used to this defiance, this lack of passivity... What was it like for him...? >

The thought hurt him.

Die eyes were riveted on Shinya, still flat but hinting at, if not showing, things hidden deep within. After that long moment of silence between them, tense and unyielding, he finally spoke. His voice was quiet once again, stark and without emotion.

“You love him,” he said, apparently musing upon Shinya’s earlier words of his love for Kaoru. “Do you believe you love him... like I love Toshiya?”

Shinya knew those words were a challenge, a dangerous one if he wasn’t careful, but he refused to lie in response. “I think,” he replied carefully, watching Die’s eyes, “it is a similar thing... but not the same.”

< There’s something wrong with what you feel, Die... Something that twisted it. But to you it is still as real, it is still right, just as what I feel is right to me. >

The way in which Shinya spoke and the things that reflected in his eyes spoke the words he dared not voice. Die saw this, saw the nature of his thoughts, and stiffened. But he did not say anything else, finally reacting not in anger as he had been doing. That rage was still there, however. It was, this time, simply restrained.

Shinya continued quietly, finally taking a sip of his water. “Did you see it coming, Die? Kaoru... and Toshiya?”

He felt Die’s eyes on him as he set down his water; he glanced up. Die seemed disinclined to respond. Instead, Die only asked in return: “did you?”

Shinya let a sigh escape his lips. “Yes,” he whispered. “Since that first day... when I saw them... I think I knew, even before I confronted Kaoru. It’s just...” he trailed off.

Pause. Then: “just?” Die prompted. His voice was quiet without being gentle, it was merely emotionless.

Shinya closed his eyes, seeing Kaoru’s face. “I just didn’t think it would happen so soon,” he whispered.

< Kaoru, Kaoru... I didn’t think it would happen at all. That we... would end. I thought that this feeling was so strong that it just couldn’t end between us... I thought that if I felt like this, surely—surely you would feel the same. >

< It hurts... Losing what I was so convinced was the one thing I would never lose. >

Die didn’t see fit to comment, although there was the barest softening of his eyes as he studied Shinya.

“Shinya,” Die said after a long moment of silence as the sounds of the bar washed dimly around them, “do you really believe you know how I feel?”

Shinya shifted slightly, idly trailing his fingertips around the rim of his glass. “Not completely,” he replied slowly. “Just as I don’t believe you can understand how I feel. But... I believe what we experience is similar. More similar than to those around us...”

< I think the love we feel is different. I think you’re anger is harder than mine, more overpowering. But at the same time, we have the same pain. >

“Aa,” Die finally agreed, voice remaining quiet. “Perhaps...”

He let his voice die momentarily, taking a drink of his beer. Shinya saw him reach into his pocket and then watched as Die pulled out a pack of cigarettes. But Die stopped, then, and his eyes flickered to Shinya. And then he put the cigarettes away without a word.

“You don’t have to do that,” Shinya told him, somewhat confused by the gesture. He didn’t like smoking, but Die had never cared in the past. It seemed he should care less now, considering the tension flashing between them.

Die only shrugged. “It’s alright. I smoke too much anyway.”

Shinya said nothing in response, passively letting the topic slide away.

“Shinya,” Die began, drawing Shinya’s eyes back to him with his voice. He was not, however, watching the drummer; rather, his eyes were fixed blankly at some point on the glossy table. “What are you going to do?”

“Do?” the younger man repeated.

“Yeah... About all this. About everything.”

Shinya’s brow drew down slightly, a soft frown touched his lips. “What can I do?” he asked finally, musing out loud. “I’ll survive. I don’t have another choice anyway. I mean.... it’s going to hurt when I see them. But I have to believe that pain will fade, if not my love. Kaoru...”

Shinya’s voice fell to a whisper. “He’s happy with Toshiya, I think. He will be. Happier than with me... And that’s all I want. To see him smile, to see him happy... I can’t hold on to him forever because it will not be there like I want it to be...”

< My words are selfless.... But at the same time, selfish. I want his happiness... It sounds so caring, giving. But really, I want him. I still do, deep down, that’s the strongest feeling... >

He looked up. “Why? What are you going to do, Die?”

The other man didn’t seem to hear. Die’s deep gaze remained on the table top, gazing through it, seeing reflections other than the lights in its dull surface.

“Die?” Shinya repeated quietly, studying him with a certain anxiety tightening his eyes.

The guitarist finally looked up, met his gaze. There was still no kindness in his gaze, no suggestion of compassion. His eyes were still hard, ever-hard.

“You keep talking about how things are changing. I keep thinking it... Changing, changing. Everything has been changing. And now...”

Pause. Silence, silence laced with a strange feeling of premonition, of dread.

“Now?” Shinya whispered, waiting.

“Now... I’m just beginning to realize how much it has changed. What it’s all coming to...”

“I... don’t understand what you mean.”

Die’s gaze finally focused on him, intensely, briefly. “I’m only now beginning to.”

*

Nothing was certain anymore. Nothing in his mind or his thoughts, even in his sight, was certain. The things he saw were unsure, he could not trust expressions or the spoken word or the images reflected and suggested in eyes.

The future was uncertain, it was hesitant, rippled, faded and hazy, ever-changing. He had gone from not knowing what five years would bring to being unable to anticipate the emotions and words of the next fives minutes.

It was disconcerting, it made him feel weak and uncertain of everything, doubtful of others. He wondered if he would have been able to manage, to survive, if it was not for Kaoru.

He hated the idea of acknowledging himself as dependent, but he felt that was what he had become. He knew it wouldn’t last—he wouldn’t allow that—but the way he had been affected and overwhelmed by the events the past weeks had not broken him, but they had created the need for someone or something to depend on.

He could not let himself remain that way. He liked to believe himself stronger, he *had* to be stronger.

< I have to be stronger... I still can’t believe how some things happened. How I could let them happen... >

He didn’t understand the control Die had had over him. It was still there, in a way. Something had irrevocably changed between them, beginning—he didn’t even know when. But it had changed and Die had suddenly been someone looking down upon him, taking advantage of a habitually passive nature and twisting it, making Toshiya believe that everything was his fault, believe everything Die told him and thus condemn himself.

He did not even attempt to evade responsibility for any of what had happened, he knew that none of this would have happened if he had not begun to look at Kaoru in a new light. But he could not be responsible for the way Die reacted, or for the pain everyone was experiencing.

He had let Die make him believe that, make him believe he didn’t deserve what he thought Kaoru could give him, the love Kaoru bore.

And everything hadn’t changed in a day, in a night. He had not suddenly begun to see everything different, had not rebounded from Die’s abuse of him and come out stronger for it. It was not over, Die still had a power over him, an affect. He didn’t know how to stand up to Die, especially not alone.

He hated that, and he didn’t understand it, but he couldn’t run from the truth. Something about the way Die had loved him, and then treated him later, made Die a person that he didn’t know how to respond to, to stand against.

But now he had Kaoru, they had each other, and he somehow had to believe everything would work out. Not that it would be alright, but that it would come to some resolution and that Toshiya would emerge from it and, more importantly, learn to be stronger, be the person he had been before.

But in the mean time, he could only wait and cling to what he had, wait to see what the next day, hour, five minutes would bring.

As he waited for practice to begin, these thoughts rolling through his head like waves, he felt restless and uncomfortable.

Practice was where things happened, where confrontations came. This studio had been witness to many events, the fights, the revelations, the pain, hate, and love. Toshiya wondered if it would see anything today, or they would all remain one day unscathed.

He caught Kaoru looking at him out of the corner of his eye, and he softened his worried features, offered a small, tight smile. Kaoru smiled back, an expression more gentle than anything Toshiya could remember reflecting at him from Die’s features in the recent past, and then he looked away again, back to his guitar.

Everyone was quiet, and the silence was not as uncomfortable as it had often been in the past, but it was still very tense. The only member of Dir en Grey not present was Kyo, but it was only five minutes past when Kaoru had requested them all to be at the studio.

Toshiya returned to focusing on his bass, listening idly as the other three around him practiced quietly, restlessly awaiting Kyo’s presence.

And they were soon graced with said presence, as Kyo walked in looking sheepish.

“Eh... sorry, minna,” he said immediately upon entering. “Didn’t mean to be late... I overslept. And,” he added, before anyone could say anything, eyes jumping to Kaoru. “It’s only ten minutes after I was supposed to be here, that’s not nearly as bad as-”

“Get you’re microphone, Kyo,” Kaoru cut him off, waving away the excuse. “Don’t worry about it. Just... get a second alarm or something.”

Kyo grinned, half in relief, half in amusement, and then quickly prepared to sing.

Toshiya, as he played, as he listened to the music and the words floating around him, couldn’t help but feel that something was different about today. He didn’t know what, but it was in everything he felt from the others, from the very weave of the air itself.

Feeling this, at one point he cast a sideways glance at Die, furtive and searching. If something else were to happen, if something about today was *different*, then it would surely be so because of Die. When his gaze fell on the guitarist to his left, however, there was nothing strange about him, nothing different from the days past. He was, perhaps, more subdued on this day. His eyes were on the sheet music before him, his gaze was blank except when touched with a distant sort of concentration.

Toshiya let his eyes slide away.

< I suppose I’ll know nothing new just thinking like this, wondering... Maybe I should just let go, for once, for now. Try not to think about this strange feeling, try not to think about what might happen and focus merely on what *is* happening, on practice and Dir en Grey. >

He was able to follow his thoughts—something that had been difficult the past days—and concentrated solely on the music.

The music flowed to a close, a silence, the last note of the last song for the day drifted into the room and settled in the air. Practice officially came to a close then with Kaoru’s voice announcing the formal end and a collective sigh entering the air.

“Good practice,” Kaoru called as he set his guitar down, brushing bangs off of his face absently, eyes focusing briefly on them all, except perhaps for Die. “I think we’re getting back on track.”

Relieved and agreeing nods were expressed all around. Then, in a quiet, rustling stillness, Dir en Grey began to disperse. Toshiya held his breath in that first moment, waiting for something to happen, for Die to say something, something that he was sure he wouldn’t want to here. Toshiya waited for a new pain, a new fear.

But no words came from the guitarist, he turned around and walked with his guitar toward his case, clearly intent upon merely placing the guitar in its place. Seeing this—and watching him only once Die turned around when he would not see Toshiya’s eyes—the bassist breathed a soft sigh.

He turned and put his bass away, fingers idly skimming over the smooth, beloved surface, and then shifted his eyes to the left, looking for Kaoru. The pink-head was carrying his amp toward the wall, aiming to place it safely out of the way. Toshiya followed with quiet steps, padding up behind Kaoru.

Kaoru straightened from setting down the piece of equipment and turned around when Toshiya reached him. His gaze fell on the bassist and softened.

“Good practice,” Kaoru repeated, words now only for Toshiya.

He nodded in response. “Hai... I have to admit, I was surprised.”

Kaoru studied him. “What did you expect to happen?”

Toshiya shrugged, then looked away, scanning the room to his right briefly. He saw Shinya behind his drum set still, and Kyo was fighting with the wires of his microphone. He couldn’t see Die from his vantage.

“I don’t know,” Toshiya continued, eyes returning to his lover. “I guess... I was waiting for something bad to happen.”

Kaoru sighed. “So was I.”

Toshiya had not yet shaken away that feeling of trepidation, but he smiled in spite of it, for it was unfounded. “But nothing has happened. It was a good practice, we sounded good, and we don’t need to worry.”

Kaoru’s smile was tight but genuine. “I’d like to think you’re right, Totchi.”

The bassist felt eyes on him then and experienced a flicker of unease. Biting his lip, he glancing around quickly, eyes sweeping the room that he could see. And sure enough, looking to the side, he saw darkly warm but unreadable eyes, pools of golden brown, resting on him.

Shinya was standing near his drum set, frail and delicate in the swirling emotions of the room, bangs falling softly near his sight. Deep eyes were watching Toshiya and Kaoru, wistful, musing.

Shinya saw Toshiya look at him, Toshiya felt the attention shift fully to himself. He blinked uncertainly, fidgeting.

< Shinya... Do you hate me? I never thought of how this would affect you... I didn’t know how far to think, sometimes I think I didn’t remember to think. >

< Do you hate me...? For taking him from you...? I never meant to hurt anyone, never you... never anyone... >

His eyes met Shinya’s for a long moment, he wanted to look away but couldn’t find the will to do so, part of him was searching Shinya’s eyes, searching for some form of forgiveness or maybe that feared hatred or bitterness.

He didn’t see any of those things, he didn’t know or understand what he saw. But then Shinya’s head tilted very slightly to the side, his eyes never left Toshiya’s, and he smiled. It was a soft, sweet curving of his lips, and it reflected in his eyes, softly and dimly but there, true.

Toshiya, relieved, smiled back, and then Shinya turned away, breaking their connection. Toshiya, released, turned back to Kaoru. He found Kaoru, now, watching him, eyebrows slightly arched.

Toshiya faced him, expression soft and solemn. “Does he hold it against me, Kaoru? Does he hate me?” There was a wistful sadness coloring his voice.

Kaoru’s eyes shifted to Shinya, briefly watching the young drummer before slipping back to Toshiya. “No,” Kaoru said softly. “I think, at first... maybe he wanted to. I don’t know, though... but I don’t think he does. I don’t think he can, he only blames you as much as human nature will force us to blame one another.”

“Couldn’t he be pretending, though?”

Kaoru nodded slowly, replying softly. “He could. Shinya is very good at keeping people at a distance, at hiding what he feels... He let me close to him, though, and that means I know him more. That means it’s harder for him to remember to keep those walls up when I am here, it’s harder to push me away. And... I just don’t think he’s pretending... He wouldn’t do that.”

< He’s too good, too kind... > Toshiya’s thought followed the train of Kaoru’s voice. < Better than the rest of us, I sometimes think. >

He didn’t even know who the ‘rest’ were. He released a sigh. The slim bassist had parted his lips to continue when he saw Kaoru’s eyes distinctly shift over Toshiya’s shoulder, saw a change overcome the guitarists’ face. A gentle countenance was replaced with guarded wariness, eyes grew more piercing, lost their quiet gleam.

Toshiya felt his heart skip a beat, turned around to see Die a few feet away and approaching with measured steps. The redhead’s eyes didn’t even flicker to Toshiya as the bassist turned, his gaze was already locked with Kaoru’s.

Toshiya fell back a step wordlessly and thoughtlessly, stepping more clearly from Die’s seemingly intended path and unconsciously closer to Kaoru, but still a safe distance from him as well. He was already wary about expressing his affection for Kaoru in front of any of Dir en Grey, let alone with a confrontation seemingly approaching.

Toshiya wanted to say something, to break up whatever it was that was pending. But again, he didn’t know how.

Neither Kaoru nor Die spoke, Kaoru merely watched warily as the other man approached. Toshiya, watching Kaoru worriedly, then flicking his eyes back and forth between the two, saw the rigidity of Kaoru’s stance, his caution. Toshiya shared the same tenseness, he waited for something to *happen*, to explode.

But—nothing did happen. Not the way Toshiya expected, anticipated, feared.

The bassist stood silently and watched as Die lifted his arm; it was only then that he noticed that Die approached not empty-handed, but with something clutched in his fingers. There was a yellow, sealed envelope, and with it what appeared to be loose sheets of paper folded together.

Die lifted the small package and papers forward, toward Kaoru, pausing a stride in front of the other man and stopping quietly there. He did not hand the package to Kaoru but merely held it there, waiting for it to be taken.

Kaoru, perplexion and wariness shining in his eyes, reached out carefully and took it, accepting the proffered objects almost gingerly from the impassive guitarist standing before him.

Die finally spoke, voice quiet, hard, and somehow determined. His gaze was piercing and distant.

“This was something I was working on for the next album...”

Kaoru and Die’s gaze never broke or wavered.

“...You can still use it if you want to.”

Extended look, intense connection. A moment, a lifetime, a last instant. And then Die dropped his arm and turned away.

Toshiya watched in stunned silence as Die acknowledged Kaoru’s surprised, wordless silence as some form of acceptance, watched Die began to walk away from the pair. He threw a glance at Kaoru, saw Kaoru staring after Die in confusion. He turned his eyes to Kyo and Shinya behind him. Kyo was frowning, met Toshiya’s look and shrugged, and Shinya’s eyes followed Die, lips parted slightly as if to speak but also remaining silent.

Toshiya turned slowly, to face the way Die had come and gone. Something... wasn’t right. Something was nagging at him, pulling at some string of thought in the back of his mind, his heart.

< What’s going on? >

His brow furrowed as he thought, the thoughts straining with an unaccountably frantic sense in his mind.

< ‘This was something I was working on for the next album... You can still use it if you want to.’ >

< Why...? Why now, at the end of practice, when we’re not even yet beginning on the next album except in our thoughts...? >

He shook his head slowly, mutely, at nothing and at no one. His eyes were fixed on Die, they were fixed inward.

Something wasn’t right.

< ‘...You can still use it if you want to.’ >

A wave of shock crashed into him, his muscles flashed into tautness. Deep eyes grew wide, snapped open. His thoughts snapped into place, unspoken words and silent suggestions manifested.

“Die.”

He spoke before thinking, took an unconscious step forward. Die’s footsteps fell silent, although he did not turn around.

Toshiya’s voice was strained as he continued. “What does this mean?” His fingers fluttered behind him, gesturing at the parcel.

< We can still us it if we want to... >

Die’s words confirmed that sinking ache within him, that shock of pain. “I need some time... away.”

< ...Because you’re not going to be around. >

Toshiya shook his head again helplessly, hopelessly.

“Away?” he heard someone whisper, disbelief coloring strongly a huskily quiet voice.

Die finally glanced over his shoulder in response to Kyo. He nodded once, shortly. He still had not resumed walking.

< You can’t leave... You can’t leave. Despite it all, despite what was between us all... You can’t leave. >

< This is Dir en Grey... We can all get through this, we can. I don’t care, I don’t care what happened... >

“You can’t leave,” Toshiya said, beginning softly, still in disbelief and letting his thoughts find voice. “You—you can’t. Not after everything... Dir en Grey—”

“Doesn’t need me,” Die cut in, voice cold and decisive, almost harsh. He turned back to them as he spoke.

Toshiya felt tears sting his eyes, a tremor shook him. He took another step forward, stopped again in the face of Die’s foreboding stoicism although the guitarist stood more than seven feet away.

< This world was supposed to stop crumbling now, we were supposed to rebuild... Nothing else is supposed to happen, what little we have left was not meant to be crushed, broken... >

“You can’t leave Dir en Grey,” he repeated brokenly, frantically, fists clenching at his sides.

< Salvage what is left, what is still here. We have to, it’s Dir en Grey... >

He would have continued pleadings that were obviously ineffectual, would have sought still to pull Die back in spite of the anger and violence between them, the pain and the past, but he was jolted out of desperate and despairing thoughts by a soft touch on his arm. His eyes jerked over his shoulder, he saw Kaoru standing behind him, a hand resting on his arm.

Die’s eyes fixed on the pair briefly, expressing things that Toshiya could not comprehend in his trembling, frantically hopeless state.

And then Die turned around once more, walked further. Toshiya turned pleading eyes to Kaoru, begging him to do something. To stop what was happening, to stop this fracture of their band, the last whole thing that remained. To prevent Die from walking out that door.

But in Kaoru’s face he saw a similar stoicism to that which Die carried. There was coldness in Kaoru’s eyes as well, not of anger so much as simply cold. A shimmer of confusion lit his gaze as well, confusion with a sparkling cast of reluctance and regret.

Toshiya turned back around, saw Die approaching the threshold now, his guitar in its case and held by one hand at his side.

“Die....” he pleaded. He received no response.

But then:

“Die.”

It was Kyo speaking again, and in response to his voice, acknowledging him perhaps because it was not Toshiya and it was not pleading, Die halted and turned slowly around. He said nothing, merely waited.

The vocalist continued. “Are there lyrics there?” His flicked gaze indicated the parcel in Kaoru’s fingers.

Toshiya stared at Kyo dumbly, not understanding why it mattered.

He heard Die reply quietly. “Yes. But you can do what you want... Use or re-write them.”

“Alright.”

Toshiya looked back to Die, he didn’t understand the exchange, he didn’t care. Die was turning around again, everything in his actions spoke of finality, of a lasting impression, of a moment that was the end and the beginning of something.

Kaoru, finally, spoke. “Don’t do this.”

His words were placed into the silence, they were simple. They were neither commanding nor pleading, they were simply there. He did not speak as if he did not mean them, but he did not give in to desperation at fixing something that was already broken as had Toshiya. It was his band, he couldn’t not try to save it. At the same time, he knew his words would mean nothing.

“Don’t try, Kaoru.”

Die’s voice floated over his shoulder, unyielding and drifting. And without turning around again, without responding to the pleas that Toshiya’s mind called out—

He was gone.

Silence stared after him, four pairs of eyes were riveted on a door that was merely a threshold, a passage, a gateway they had all passed through every day but that only now led somewhere new.

Toshiya was incomprehensive, he felt deadened and dull. “Shouldn’t we... stop him?” he finally whispered. His desperation and frail hopes were being battered by the dullness around him, the actions of Die and the others. His attempt to keep Die with Dir en Grey, to keep Dir en Grey as they knew it whole, was already becoming hollow, was becoming half-hearted.

He turned around, cast pleading eyes at Kaoru, Kyo, and Shinya.

Another long stillness. Then, finally, Shinya spoke softly.

“We can’t,” he whispered. Eyes shifted to him. “Anything you say... Or that you do... It won’t matter.” Toshiya, listening carefully, thought his voice almost broke. But his eyes and features were steady, reflecting regret and pain but yet whole.

His words fell into the room, seeped into those around him. Toshiya, perhaps, fought silently the longest, sought reasons to contradict Shinya’s statement or to ignore it; but in the end he, too, accepted Shinya’s words. He had to. There was a finality about the frail drummer’s air, a certainty that assaulted any resistance.

He heard Kaoru shift, Toshiya looked at him. In the guitarists’ eyes he saw a very deep regret, a reflection of profound sadness even as that coldness at the memory of Die remained.

“Will he be coming back?” Kaoru asked softly. His gaze rested on Shinya, while Shinya’s remained on the door.

“.....No,” Shinya whispered. “I don’t think—that he will.”

“But... he said he only need some time ‘away’,” Kyo argued. His words were dead and half-hearted.

Shinya shook his head slowly, his eyes slid closed. “He won’t be back.”

Toshiya’s gaze followed Shinya’s unconsciously, his eyes drifted back to the door. He was motionless and still as Kaoru’s arm crept up around his shoulders, as he felt Kaoru wrap warmth securely around him. He felt it absently, distantly.

He knew, then, as he stared at the door and imagined that he could still see Die’s silhouette leaving, that something had changed irrevocably. ‘He won’t be back.’ Something had changed ultimately and forever. And what he realized, now, was that it wasn’t good or bad. It was the end of Dir en Grey as they knew it, but even had Die stayed—everything would still have been different. It was change, and it was neither good nor bad. Neither was it decreed from the start, nothing had been set in stone.

Anything could have happened. This moment, this ultimate change, breakage, could have been hurried on or prevented. So many things could have been done differently, so many different choices could have been made, any outcome could have come about in the end.

But the past could not be changed, actions could not be undone, and Toshiya would never truly know if he wanted to change events or not. He couldn’t change things, not now, not ever, not when they were always in the past, and he couldn’t let himself dwell on trying.

The past, in that moment, as his eyes fixed dully on the door, because the *past*, became memories, and there was a future ahead. It was different, but it was waiting and there was nothing he could do but face it, face it with a new figure by his side.

“Kaoru...”

Toshiya lifted his head, forced his eyes to tear away from the door, and he shifted slightly with Kaoru to turn and see Shinya and Kyo now standing nearby. Kaoru seemed to almost unconsciously tighten his arm around Toshiya’s shoulders; the slim bassist leaned against him in response.

“Can I see that?”

Kyo gestured toward the envelope and folded lyrics that Die had handed to Kaoru, held limply at Kaoru’s side in his other hand. Wordlessly, Kaoru complied. As Kyo opened the envelope first, keeping the lyrics and music yet closed, they all stood in silence.

The remaining four members of Dir en Grey had nothing to say, what could they possibly say in this moment? There was nothing to be said, to be voiced. They shared, instead, an infinite sadness in their stillness, embracing that regret because there was nothing else to do with it.

Toshiya watched as Kyo opened the envelope finally, sliding a tape out. The short man studied it, flipped it over in his hands a few times.

“It’s a demo tape,” he announced quietly, glancing up.

“Demo tape?”

Hesitation. Sadness.

“With Die’s parts, I guess.”

Silence. Soft rustling as Kyo slowly unfolded the sheets of paper.

He studied the first page intently, his eyes flickered across its contents.

“Lyrics,” he murmured finally. He seemed to reread whatever was written, Toshiya wanted to know both what the words said and to never hear.

“What do they say?” he made himself whisper.

Kyo didn’t glance up, his eyes remained downward. “They’re not complete... Just lines, ideas, words. They’re close, though... close to something. I can use this...”

“What do they say?”

Kaoru this time, prompting Kyo to read.

Kyo’s eyes traveled slowly over the sheet, he spoke quietly as he picked out a few lines. The stillness surrounding the four was profound and subdued.

“We who turned out backs on the past have no where left to go.... In the rain, in the darkness, footsteps vanish... Turn me into a memory...

“We won’t be separated, I won’t accept that, however—the waves wash away your memories... It’s too late, it’s the changing of the seasons, you’re words piece deeply my heart...”

That stillness coalesced about and within them, flew to the ceiling. That stillness brought change; the passing of an age, a time they would never forget, was upon them and there was nothing they could do to stop it. There were no streamers of the past to hold on to, to do so would be dangerous, would be clinging to something already broken.

Outside the sky was beautiful, it was pure in a cloud-scattered loveliness. The wind blew with a singular, calming fragrance. A living, breathing world was out there, was continuing in joyful bliss.

And a second world was trapped in that building as lives changed, as five became four. The final chapter of pain was coming to a close.

‘He won’t be back.’

No one denied that statement in their words or in their hearts, there were no words spoken with which to deny it. They had all run from and run to the truth long enough that they were tired of running. Changing had twisted them, sought to break them. It had not succeeded but they were weary, so weary.

< Tired of running... >

Four minds wanted to forget. To forget pain and violence, love and passion.

Four minds would never forget. There would always be memories, there would always be words.

The next day Kyo would come in with a set of completed lyrics in hand. The next day they would begin plans for their future, for finding a new guitarist. They would begin, also, to work on that song. Die’s song.

Practice would begin with Kyo’s voice. He would read the words in a soft, subdued tone, emotion would rise and swirl, and it would be not only his voice heard, but that of he who had become the past.

In the silence of a quiet dawn, words would be read, listening hearts would hear:

“The two who turned their backs on each other

Have nowhere to go

They can't even hear the sound of the heavy, pounding rain

Turning their backs on each other, they walk

To a place they go to

Their footprints vanishing, one after the other

Turn me into a memory

And go to the new ocean

From my heart

I wish you happiness

There is happiness

Beyond the tears

But you aren't there

Beyond the tears

We won't be separated

I don't want us to be separated, but

Your words pierce deeply through my heart

Don't you see?

We won't be separated

I don't want us to be separated, but

The waves erase your footsteps again, one by one

With the changing of the seasons

It's too late, but I want to hold your hand

One more time

In the changing of the seasons

Meeting someday

Parting someday

And meeting with you”

*

*** Epilogue to Follow + Final Author’s Comments ***

** Song used above – “Undecided”, by Dir en Grey

 

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