Beautiful

by NightMajik

Dedication: Aggy and Razzy. ^_____ ^ I need say no more. XD

Beautiful: Part Six - Tatters Crimson

*

His eyes were dry and it hurt to see, it hurt to think. A great haze hung before him, screening the day.

It was Monday, they were to practice once again. Dir en Grey... five members together... He didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t even know if he wanted to find out what would happen. Maybe it would just be so much better, easier, if he would never know.

But that couldn’t happen. He was in his car, he was already on his way to practice. He had to face reality, whatever that might be. It was difficult to remember the last time he had slept well, the last time his dreams were not plagued with nightmares too close to what was already real. That was even *if* he slept, if waking thoughts did not keep him from slumber.

Kaoru breathed a sigh as he parked his car, trying to focus his wandering thoughts without really *thinking*. He was not the first at the studio for once; that was strange enough in itself. What was more surprising was that it was Kyo who was already there.

Kaoru entered the outside door to the expansive building, he saw the vocalist sitting inside with his back against the wall and his gaze blank as if tending toward sleep. When Kaoru entered, however, Kyo immediately roused himself, gaze flickering to the guitarist.

“You’re early,” Kaoru remarked, somewhat weary, somewhat wary.

Kyo grunted in response and dragged himself to a stand. Kaoru watched him apprehensively, knowing something to be amiss. Kyo was never early. He never appeared to be this determined in the morning.

“What’s going on?” Kaoru asked, shifting his eyes idly to the lock as he pulled out the keys and opened the door.

“You tell me.” Kyo’s voice was direct.

Kaoru winced, stepped inside, and put the key away. < Why do you persist? Let it go... >

He knew the thoughts weren’t entirely fair, not when personal relationships were having such an effect on the band, but this didn’t mean he was obligated to say anything.

“Betsuni,” he replied.

Kyo made a frustrated sound of disgust. “Like hell. Tell me, Kaoru.” Kaoru remained defensively silent. “I can’t ask the others,” Kyo continued, irritation apparent. “Toshiya and Shinya... God, I don’t know what’s wrong with them, but I’m half afraid they’ll start *crying* if I try to say anything. And Die...” Kyo trailed off.

Kaoru turned to face him, thoughts automatically piqued. “Die?” he prompted softly.

Kyo glanced at him, studied him intently, almost suspiciously. “He’s.. I dunno. He’s off, like the rest of you, but... in a different way. Consistently angry, almost..”

Kaoru closed his eyes briefly. < Hostile.. To just me? No, it’s toward Toshiya, too... I saw the way he grabbed him, dragging him out of the studio Thursday... >

The recollection brought a flash of anger. Kaoru was obviously not pleased with the situation in the first place, but added to that displeasure was the way he had been seeing Toshiya and Die interact. The way Toshiya told him to stop calling, as if he was frightened of something.

Kyo must have seen the brooding enter his gaze. “Kaoru,” he warned, low voice expressing his lack of amusement intensely. “What’s. Going. On.”

Kaoru bit off a sigh, eyes turning to Kyo in an effort to express himself. “Kyo—don’t you understand? I can’t tell you. I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

Kaoru took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Don’t be angry,” he said softly, quietly, reigning his own anger and anxiety and weariness closely in. < You won’t make this any easier. >

Kyo muttered something; Kaoru opened his eyes to see Kyo’s eyes dark. He still glared at Kaoru, but he seemed less irritated. Not defeated, but relenting. “Kaoru... I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

Kyo waited for him to continue.

“And I’m really sorry,” he finally added. “I am, but... You’re going to just have to leave this alone. For now, at least.”

Kyo muttered something unintelligible once again, but then finally fell silent, albeit reluctantly. He offered Kaoru the silence and lack of questions the guitarist was pleading for, but he clearly was unhappy about it.

< Another person made unhappy, > Kaoru thought sardonically, < It figures... Who’s left to hurt? >

He sighed. He knew the shorter man heard him, but Kyo maintained his silence.

Shinya was the next to arrive at practice, walking into the enveloping silence quietly. He entered silently, actions gracefully fragile. When both Kyo and Kaoru glanced up at his entrance he offered a small smile.

“Ohayo,” he greeted them, voice quiet. Kyo grunted something—very rarely were his responses coherent or meaningful; today was no exception—and Kaoru nodded back tiredly. Kyo was on the couch against the wall, sprawled out and thoughtfully brooding, and Kaoru had just plugged his guitar into an amp.

As he straightened, he saw Kyo’s eyes sparkling on Shinya, watching him as the slim drummer approached his drum set. Kaoru frowned when Kyo moved, as if in prelude to getting up from the couch.

“Kyo,” he warned. Eyes flashed to him, Kyo threw an indignant glance his direction.

“But-”

“Kyo,” Kaoru repeated, voice less a warning and more an imploration, although still stern.

Kyo muttered something and then settled back on the couch, closing his eyes, an annoyed frown tugging at his lips.

Toward the back of the room, Shinya had paused next to his drum set and watched the exchange in curiosity. “Kaoru?” he finally asked. “What...?”

Kaoru glanced back at him, shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he soothed.

Shinya shrugged and obediently fell silent.

More quiet stillness, placid on the surface but with tensions boiling deeper, a watery silence pregnant with emotions and wonderings, accusations, and musings. Shinya warmed up quietly, drum beats irregular and strangely soft, hollow. Kaoru didn’t play much, he needlessly played with the tuning of his guitar instead.

That silence ensued for an indeterminate length of time. It was silent enough to count the tick of time slipping away, but no one was focused enough to count those seconds. Kyo kept his eyes closed against the room, but he did not sleep. He was waiting like the others. Waiting for that silence to end.

And finally it did end. It was swept away, scattered by the soft noises proclaiming approach. Then Toshiya and Die appeared.

The redhead was the first to enter; Toshiya came trailing after. Die’s eyes were stony and strangely intense—he said not a word upon his entrance, only strode toward his guitar. Shinya murmured a greeting directed to the pair, ever soft-spoken and polite, and Toshiya was the only one to respond, also quietly.

Toshiya did not, however, look up. His head was bowed to the ground, long hair shadowing his face. With the events of the previous few weeks hanging overhead, it was not unusual to see him thus, with his gaze on the ground; to see him assuming a facade of indifference and diminutive obedience, a façade that might run far more deeply than the surface.

But somehow—that day was different. Kaoru inherently, immediately sensed it, he *knew*. He watched worriedly from the corner of his eye as Toshiya approached his bass stand. Kaoru also noted that Die wasn’t paying direct attention to anyone, especially Kaoru and Toshiya.

The pink-head continued to keep an anxious gaze on Toshiya, not caring if the other man saw. And Toshiya did see. But instead of ignoring Kaoru’s gaze like he had done for the past week with systematic evasion, he met it. Not for long, not for more than a precious flicker of darkly starry eyes, but he looked back.

Kaoru hated the look in his gaze, it not only made him apprehensive, but it made him hurt. And before he could think he was taking a step toward the bassist after a particularly long glance, after a painful flash of empathy and emotion.

He made himself stop immediately, halting that rigid movement, trying to collect himself, trying to pull out of the mesmerizing magnetism of Toshiya’s eyes. He failed, but he did manage to remain still, to not approach and comfort the bassist as he desperately wanted to.

Die looked at him then, looking up at the sudden movement. Kaoru turned the step into a motion to take off his guitar; maybe he would just change his amp, Die wouldn’t think the action had been a prelude to approaching Toshiya, an approach he could not make.

Kaoru’s eyes flashed to Die, where he stood a few feet away near the extra amps and the wall, seeming ready to choose his own amp. He saw Die’s gaze fixed on him, glittering and sharp. And there was a challenge in it, a reflected challenge.

Kaoru saw this clearly, it increased his anxiety, his feeling of complete wrongness. What was wrong? What was different today than the days before, what was so *wrong*...?

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw.

Toshiya had reached up, had reflexively brushed the hair back from the side of his face because the long, shimmering strands were in the way. And Kaoru saw.

His eyes alighted on the countenance that was with make-up for the first time in days; on the beautiful face that was now marred, make-up unable to cover, only partially obscure, the purpling, half-moon bruise on Toshiya’s cheek.

Kaoru’s body tensed, he went very still. “Totchi...?”

The bassist froze, his hand falling still near his ear, behind which he had tucked the loose hair. His eyes jerked toward Kaoru, he seemed suddenly cognizant of what he had done. “W-what?”

By this point all eyes were curiously on them, wondering why the silence was being broken with anything other than the sounds of practice beginning.

“What happened?” Kaoru’s voice was intensely soft. Die’s eyes were a warning upon him, Kaoru felt them. He didn’t care.

“What... do you mean?”

Kaoru didn’t waver in response to the tenuous voice, his voice was hard, although that hardness was not directed at Toshiya. “Your face... what happened?”

The slender bassist looked trapped. Kaoru saw his eyes dart to Die, back to Kaoru. “I... I fell.”

“Fell?” < Hardly. > Kaoru’s thoughts hissed like acid, his muscles were still tense, rigid, he felt near to shaking. Comprehension was stirring; it would strike soon, slam into him. Anger was threatening, threatening. The storm would break soon.

“I mean—I stumbled, and ran into a door, you know?” Toshiya’s voice was faint.

“Totchi...”

His eyes were watery, he stared back at Kaoru, appearing to tremble. Helplessly, he shook his head, as if pleading for something, and then turned his eyes away.

Kaoru’s eyes leapt to Die. The redhead was coldly ignoring he and Toshiya now, facing the side, twisted wires in his hand as if he was attempting to untangle them, but his anger, that chillness, spoke loudly, he may as well have been glaring.

< He hurt him... >

It was starkly clear.

< He hurt him... He ignores him, abuses him... >

Something inside snapped.

< He hurt him. >

“Bastard!” His voice was savage, a low growl. Anger burned, shook inside him.

He had thrown himself at Die before he realized it, springing into a rage of action. He crashed into Die, slammed him into the wall with violent force. A harsh, startled curse fell form Die’s lips, his eyes flared, finding Kaoru’s after a short, pained wince.

Behind them, someone cried out in surprise. Kaoru didn’t care who it was, he couldn’t hear. Red flickered on the edge of his sight.

“Fucking bastard,” he growled.

< You hurt him... You hurt him... >

Kaoru’s hands were white-knuckled as he grasped Die’s shirt in a fist. But Die’s returned anger and defense was instinctive, his eyes flashed, spoke loudly of his hostility though he spoke no words. He responded to violence with violence, hostile rage with returned fire.

Die threw Kaoru away from him, jerking to loosen Kaoru’s grip and then shoving the other guitarist off and away from him. Kaoru stumbled back, and then was partially blinded by pain a moment later. As he reeled back, his blood-tinged sight saw the punch coming—he was not quick enough, however, to avoid it entirely, and a sharp pain bloomed in his cheek.

Biting back the fiery pain, he grabbed Die’s wrist, fingers closing tightly to hold off another punch. He was rewarded with a hiss of pain at his tight grip and when he tried to twist the arm away from him.

There was chaos around them; from the corner of Kaoru’s eye he saw that Shinya was out from behind his drums, was standing next to Kyo with frightened fingers reflexively clutched around Kyo’s upper arm. Toshiya was a few feet away from the pair; his bass was on the ground where it had fallen from shaking fingers, perhaps in the process of being taken off. His eyes cried out.

Kaoru saw this all in a moment, in the mere flicker of his eyes. The part of his mind that was not caught up in his rage absorbed it in a moment and then dismissed it. He was focused only on the redhead before him, saw only in his mind Toshiya’s pain, his bruised, abused face, frightened eyes.

Kaoru grunted with the effort of holding back Die’s hand, feeling him attempt to twist away and trying with all his might to prevent it. At the same time he fended off Die’s other hand. But then Die lashed out with his foot, hooking his leg behind Kaoru’s knee and throwing him successfully off balance with a vicious flare reflecting in his eyes.

As Kaoru felt himself begin to fall, he cursed furiously; his fingers scrabbled for purchase, and he fought to hold himself up with his grip on Die’s arm. He succeeded only in digging his nails into the flesh as he fell, tearing the skin and feeling Die’s forearms jerk reflexively.

He landed hard on his back, felt the air knocked from his lungs upon impact. He was prepared, though, to either leap to a stand if Die hesitated and gave him an opening, or to fight back for the edge of Die fell upon him, immediately following up his assault.

The only thing controlling him was his rage, the rage that was a culmination of anger and tension and anguish that had built up over the past days. He wanted to hurt Die, hurt him like he had hurt Toshiya.

But Die did none of the things Kaoru had anticipated. Before either enraged man could respond, someone threw himself at Die. Arms wrapped desperately around Die’s shoulder, a slender figure fought to throw him off balance, a figure with tears scarring his face. His voice was bit off like a choked sob, shrill. “Yamete! Stop it, Die... Stop, please...!”

Kaoru remained frozen on his back, tense and watching, feeling his breath return, hearing his heart pound through the ringing of electric air in his hearing. He watched Die’s face contort with rage at the interruption. Watched Die angrily try to jerk Toshiya away.

Watched Die then shove Toshiya when the upset, desperate bassist would not relent. Watched as Toshiya was pushed harshly out of the way and onto the ground, heard his cry of pained dismay.

More anger. Flooding. Overwhelming.

Kaoru heaved himself to a stand as Shinya rushed to Toshiya’s side, kneeling next to him. Kaoru’s growl was wordless and threatening and he had enough angry momentum to carry himself into Die, to throw a punch into Die’s midsection. Die grunted in surprise, doubling over and taking a step back in surprised retreat.

There was a clamor, now, around them, rising and falling upon deaf ears. Kaoru didn’t listen, couldn’t make out the words that were being shouted or whimpered.

He found himself, instead, suddenly on the floor and on his back again, apparently caught unaware by Die’s retaliation. And now Die was bearing over him and there was a stinging pain in his spine, his breath had once again abandoned him. Die’s eyes were angry, there was that blood-haze misting in them as it misted in Kaoru’s.

Kaoru couldn’t move, he couldn’t make his limbs react. But shrill voices were cutting the air, Die was not upon him yet.

Words resolved themselves. Names echoed.

Kyo’s voice: “Shinya! Stop them... I don’t think I-”

Shinya cutting him off. “Stop it! Die! Kaoru! STOP!”

The drummer was no longer at Toshiya side and kneeling on the ground, but was behind Die, grabbing his arms and holding him back. Determination reflected in his eyes, next to the fear and the upset gleam, and there was steely strength in limbs that appeared fragile. Die pulled against Shinya, but he battered down the guitarists struggling, held him back tightly.

At the same time, as Kaoru was about to drag himself to a stand, uncertain whether the fight was over or not, but about to throw the first punch if Die broke free, Toshiya moved next to him, scrambling over. Fingers closing around his arms, Toshiya was crying, pleading, begging. He held Kaoru down to the floor, because he himself remained there, had struggled over, was pleading with Kaoru to “stop, stop.”

Kaoru’s muscles were tense, his eyes were still on Die and the crimson was still in his sight, but he listened, he stopped. He remained where he was, remained still, didn’t struggle against Toshiya, and although the bassists’ pleas were skittering on the surface of his anger, trying to find a way in and all but failing, it was the tremors that touched Kaoru, the shaking that wracked Toshiya’s body.

Slowly, releasing a long breath, he began to let himself relax.

“Don’t fight... Don’t fight...”

Toshiya’s arms were wrapped around his arm, he had his face pressed into Kaoru’s shoulder, he clutched him tightly, desperately. He didn’t seem to notice when Kaoru began to relax, let the tension and blood-haze seep away.

“Don’t fight...”

A desperate, heart-broken murmur from Toshiya, tears in his voice. He was still shaking.

Kaoru wanted to quiet him, but he couldn’t look away from Die, not yet. He watched the standing man, watched his eyes remain intense and angry, cold, but also watched as his struggles ceased. He saw that Shinya was speaking to him softly, insistently, perhaps in an imitation of Toshiya’s pleas but with a calmer, though still upset, mien.

Only when Kaoru saw Die relax did he turn his attention away. He shook his arm slightly, to rouse Toshiya, but was startled when the bassist only clutched him tighter.

“Toshiya,” he soothed, speaking quietly. “Shhh... shhh, it’s okay now...”

That countenance lifted hesitantly, water-filled eyes sought his. He released slowly his death-hold on Kaoru’s arm.

“Kaoru...” He stared back at him, as if afraid he would pull away and the fight would resume, and then his eyes flickered to Die. When they did, however, he flinched, and he suddenly pulled away from Kaoru, breaking their contact.

Toshiya did not rise from the ground, however; he remained where he was, sitting up on one side and with his hands as a support. He didn’t seem to have the strength to rise. Kyo took his place, kneeling at Kaoru’s side.

“Get up,” he said quietly, offering a hand. He helped Kaoru to a stand when Kaoru nodded, both men wordless. Meanwhile, Shinya was releasing Die, letting his arms go with a certain wariness in the way he stood.

Finally all of them were standing again, all but Toshiya, and both Die and Kaoru were unrestrained by the others. Kaoru wanted desperately to help Toshiya to a stand, but he couldn’t make himself do that; Die, perhaps, wanted to as well, but didn’t take those steps closer to Kaoru. The two of them faced off, glowering. Kaoru’s muscles were tense, his gaze was burning, but he was once again under control.

“Kyo,” he said softly, turning his head slightly to toss a glance at the shorter man. He nodded in the direction of Toshiya, still crumbled and trembling on the ground, and Kyo nodded, approaching.

The remaining three members of Dir en Grey watched as Kyo knelt by Toshiya’s side, placing a hand gently on his back.

“C’mon, Totchi,” he said quietly, voice gentle. There was a soft look of concern on his face that was uncharacteristic, that somehow made the entire situation more heartbreaking.

Toshiya said nothing in response, but gave a very small nod. He let Kyo lead him to a stand, and Kyo seemed almost afraid to take his offered support away once the taller man was standing, as if afraid his fragility would collapse in upon itself without Kyo’s hands. Shinya moved to stand next to them, stepping from next to Die to stand on the other side of Toshiya.

Kaoru and Die were left on their own again, standing at opposite sides. Between them, out of their direct line of vision, just beyond it, stood Kyo, then Toshiya, then Shinya; there was a greater gap between the three and Die than between the three and Kaoru.

Silence ruled only a moment longer, and then finally, Kyo spoke.

“Now.” His voice was commanding. Careful. Four pairs of eyes flickered to him, some turning away quickly, some remaining. “What’s going on?” Before anyone could answer, he elaborated. “Not everything. I just mean here. Now.”

“Ask Die,” Kaoru growled lowly.

Die’s eyes flashed murder at Kaoru. The other three looked at him, but he said nothing, only lifted his chin slightly.

< Bastard... I can’t believe you would do this to him... >

“Look at Toshiya’s face,” Kaoru said angrily, gesturing sharply with one hand.

Toshiya had his head bowed forward, again seeking solace in shadows. At his name, at those words, he did not respond. Shinya, at his side, exchanged glances with Kyo. The smaller man shrugged, and then Shinya nudged Toshiya slightly.

“Ne, Totchi...”

But the bassist seemed frightened to react.

Shinya placed one hand comfortingly on Toshiya’s shoulder, and then with gentle, long fingers he touched Toshiya’s chin. He lifted the bassist’s face gently, and the shimmering wave of hair fell back. Toshiya let Shinya move his head obediently, but his eyes cried against it.

Although Toshiya was no longer weeping, the tears had streaked his face, and the ugly bruise was far more clear. Shinya guided Toshiya’s countenance, making him turn slightly to the side so that all eyes might see the mar. There was a pained sadness and disbelief in Shinya’s eyes as he did this.

Kyo’s voice was dangerous. “Die. Did you do this?”

Die lifted his chin slightly in a gesture of defiance. “Our personal matters are our own,” he replied.

Kaoru’s anger flared, but Shinya shot him a warning glance, somehow knowing. Kaoru bit back his words, swallowed them and tasted them to be bitter. Kyo’s voice was flat.

“This cannot stay a ‘personal matter.’ Not when someone is being hurt intentionally.”

“Fuck you, Kyo, you don’t know what’s going on.”

“But I do,” Shinya cut in angrily, as Kyo’s eyes flared. “And this can’t go on.” His voice that was normally soft was layered with steely anger and empathetic pain.

Die’s menacing glare swiveled to him. Shinya’s tone switched to one of pleading.

“Die... Please. Toshiya—*Toshiya* of all people—doesn’t deserve this. If you love him-”

“If he loved *me*, if he had been faithful, *none* of this would have happened.”

“I was faithful...”

The voice slipped into the stillness, startling them all. Toshiya’s eyes lifted to Die, they were pleading.

“Die, I... I never did anything. I didn’t. I never wanted to act on it, we did nothing more than kiss, and that was a mistake, and—and I told you I would stay with you, that I wouldn’t leave you. We—we were going to work things out. Because I owe you, and...” His tenuous stream of words died.

< You owe him...? > Kaoru frowned, he didn’t understand what Toshiya had just said. How did the bassist owe Die?

Toshiya’s words seemed to have no effect on Die, they slid around them, he would not listen. Scorn reflected sharply in his eyes as he looked at Toshiya, scorn and blame and a sort of condescending conviction.

< Do you believe the things you’re saying, Die....? Do you believe what you did is okay, do you believe Toshiya did this to hurt you... That he owes you? >

It was incomprehensible. Kaoru almost trembled with his inability to act, to fix this.

Die’s anger was palpable, his gaze shifted from Toshiya—he seemed to have beaten back any more words Toshiya might have emitted, broken the strength Toshiya was trying to collect, the strength that was there but battered—to them all. He swept his gaze slowly across the other four members of Dir en Grey, his negative emotion was no longer saved for only Toshiya and Kaoru. When Die’s flashing eyes passed across Toshiya once more, the bassist flinched, but he did not look away.

Shinya finally ventured to break the silence. “Why?” he whispered.

Kaoru wanted to act, to speak, but he was afraid to let himself do so; his grip on control was tenuous enough before this confrontation. He had to hold on to himself. Toshiya’s upset pleas from only moments ago—‘don’t fight... don’t fight...’—echoed in the pink-head’s mind, they were something that he could cling to to keep himself stable, somewhat grounded in this shattering world.

Shinya continued haltingly, his voice was unsteady.

“Why, Die...? How...?” He couldn’t seem to say more, couldn’t form the words that he wanted to say, the questions he felt compelled to ask because one person was hurting another in the name of love.

Die drew himself up stiffly. Although Shinya was unable to say much of what he seemed to want to voice, Die seemed to understand. “I don’t need this,” he snarled, “not from any of you. Come here, Toshiya. Let’s go.” He lifted a beckoning—no, a commanding—hand toward the bassist.

Toshiya’s eyes jumped to his hand, back to Die’s face. Indecision reflected in his eyes, he seemed poised on taking that step forward,, as if it was a step he did not want to take but that he was resigned to by habit. Kaoru wanted to step forward, to stop him, to make all this stop, to scream why did it have to be this way, but he made himself remain still, hands clenching into fists. He trembled with the effort, trembled when he had to see the way Toshiya was being pulled in two directions, pulled one way through fear and the other way with that remaining strength.

“Toshiya,” Die snapped. His voice was a cruel warning. And again—his words were a command. An angry one.

Very lightly, Kyo touched Toshiya’s arm. “Totchi...” Toshiya’s gaze jerked toward him. “Daijoubu...”

Everything wasn’t alright, and Kyo said nothing more. But with his eyes, his uncharacteristically gentle touch, his entire manner—he exuded comfort. It was as if he said ‘don’t go with Die. Not like this’ but without verbalizing the sentiment, the sentiment the others shared, Kaoru, perhaps, most desperately of all, holding those words and that hope closest to his heart.

When Toshiya’s gaze flickered back to Die, who was glaring darkly at him, that fear was still there. But he relaxed mutely. His decision was made.

And Die saw this. His anger boiled over in a growl.

“Damn you all,” he spat. “That’s it. I don’t have to take this from any of you, this fucking criticism, this intrusion. This is worthless, all of this, all of you. I quit.”

A collective gasp fell into the angry echo of his words. Kaoru opened his mouth, though he knew not what to say. But Die saw this movement; he rounded on the other man.

“That’s fight—fuck you, Kaoru. Fuck Dir en Grey. I can find something--*anything*--that’s better than this shit.”

The livid redhead turned on his heel, leaving his anger to roll into them, crash into them like a savage wave. He stalked toward the door, heavy silence ringing behind him, incomprehension still affecting the others.

The remaining four were shocked, utterly and completely. But Shinya snapped into action almost immediately, his mind was either working the quickest or he was acting before he could clearly think, could truly formulate the thoughts.

He ran across the room and out the door Die had disappeared through. Kyo seemed almost poised to follow, but he seemed unwilling to leave Toshiya&#x2019;s side. The vocalist’s face was painted with confusion and disbelief, he was overwhelmed by the situation perhaps more than the others because he did not know the background that had lead to this awful climax.

Kaoru didn’t know what to think, what to do. Too many emotions were conflicting inside him, clashing, overwhelming. Too much was happening, was falling apart.

< ‘I quit.’ >

< This is what it has escalated into... One stolen moment, one revelation of forbidden feelings... >

< Tension. Tears. Die abusing Toshiya... Now Die trying to leave—succeeding in his attempt?—Dir en Grey. >

< Falling apart... >

Kaoru made his eyes focus, he made himself grasp his thoughts, keep them from flailing too wildly though he wanted only to sink to the floor and escape this through screaming or through sleeping and then waking to find it existed as only a bad dream, a cruel nightmare. He felt desperately weak and useless, like there was nothing he could do to fix this, or like it was something that he had not the strength to do.

“Kaoru.”

His name spoken in a low voice drew him out of his thoughts. He glanced up toward Kyo. The shorter man said nothing more; he only mutely nodded at Toshiya, arching his eyebrows slightly. Kaoru sighed, and then nodded back.

“Toshiya...” he said softly. The bassist seemed startled by his voice, his almost-dead eyes with the shine of hopelessness upon them jumped to Kaoru. He looked lost. He was not crying but he appeared broken, broken and with the bruise as an ugly seal on his face, a seal of defeat.

Kaoru lifted his arms slightly, took a step forward; Toshiya stumbled to meet him. They met in a despairing embrace, Kaoru folded his arms around Toshiya as the slim bassist fell into him, hiding his face against Kaoru’s shoulder. Neither man said anything else—what was there to say? Kaoru couldn’t even murmur ‘it will be alright’, could offer no soothing mantra because he didn’t know what would happen, he didn’t know if it would be alright. Enough was going wrong that he didn’t want to add to it all with a lie, not even for the sake of comfort.

He stroked Toshiya’s hair gently, felt the way their bodies relaxed together, how this single action, moment, this embrace, felt so *right*. Toshiya did not weep, he did not even tremble; he merely stood there, clinging to Kaoru’s warmth, hiding his eyes.

Kaoru lifted his gaze, saw Kyo watching them. Questions and concerns lit his eyes—in spite of everything, he expressed mostly concern—and Kaoru met his gaze. Still no words were spoken, no verbal sentiments exchange. The room breathed silence as they waited for Shinya’s return.

*

“Die, stop—please listen!”

It was the third time that Shinya was calling out; he finally caught up with Die who was about to get into his car, who had his fingers on the handle. Shinya grabbed his arm in his desperation, stumbling up next to Die, having run across the pavement. Die, finally, paused, waiting.

Shinya could feel the tense rigidness of his muscles; Die did not speak. Shinya carefully removed his hand, breaking contact. It was only then that Die turned around, spoke. “What do you want?” he demanded coldly.

Shinya kept his voice lowly calm but not emotionless. He didn’t think he could achieve a lack of emotion in his state. “Die... Don’t do this, not like this. You can’t leave Dir en Grey in one moment of anger-”

“I can’t?” he returned acidly.

Shinya kept his voice level, not responding to the rage. “No. You can’t. This is more than just a pastime for you—this is your *life*, is it not?”

Die did not respond—his eyes still flared dangerously.

“Die... I know that this is hard for you. I know it upsets you, I know you’re hurting, because I am too. But you need to calm down. It can’t end here.”

Die snorted. “It can. And it *will*.”

The anger, however, was fading in his eyes. But then he turned around one more with actions sharp, opening the door to his car and climbing in before Shinya could stop him.

“Die!” he cried in frustration, pounding against the window as he heard the vehicle start, leaning down to look inside. Die’s eyes flickered in irritation; he rolled down the window.

Shinya remained bent over to meet Die’s gaze. He now attempted a technique of entreaty.

“Die... Dir en Grey is important to people, to more people than us—what about our fans? You’re not the only one affected by what’s going on, we’re *all* hurt. But if you leave, if you quit—this will only get worse. Dir en Grey has to stay whole. It... is all I have left.”

He could tell he was getting through to the guitarist. He saw the rage dissipate, sinking back into Die, not relinquishing its hold fully upon him. His eyes did not soften, but they were not as sharp, or hard.

And then he said quietly, almost as if he finally heard the pain in Shinya’s voice, was pulled out of the shell of his anger, the conviction that only he was being hurt: “.... I know, Shin-chan.”

The drummer was startled by the address, but it proved that Die could still be reached that there was sentiment left for Dir en Grey and for its members.

“There’s a meeting tomorrow,” Shinya said softly. “Please be there. Please come.”

Die looked away, said nothing. He seemed to argue with himself, seemed indecisive.

And then, suddenly, he started to drive away. Shinya stumbled back, dismayed. Dismayed and feeling a flash of anger.

“Will you let this beat you, Die?” he shouted angrily. “Will you let this end in defeat—will you run away?”

The car stopped. Shinya remained where he was, eyes trained on the car, feeling the wind pull strands of hair across his face but not caring, not caring about anything but trying to pull everyone together because he was compelled to do it, because he couldn’t stand aside and watch everyone and everything fall apart.

He watched as Die slowly moved, turning his head to look back at Shinya. And despite the distance between them, their eyes met. Shinya couldn’t read Die’s gaze, perhaps the guitarist could not read his, but very slowly, finally, Die nodded.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Die said, seeming to speak and not shout, and yet his voice carrying to Shinya. Without waiting for a response, without releasing any emotion, he then turned around, closed the window, and drove away.

*

The door opened, drawing swirling thoughts out of deep silence. Kaoru lifted his eyes, turned them to the door to see Shinya entering, looking weary. Kyo looked up too, and Toshiya, in Kaoru’s arms, straightened slightly, peered as well. Kaoru’s arm remained around his shoulders; he turned so that he could see the door but was not without the shelter of Kaoru.

“He’s not leaving,” Shinya told them softly, seeing the questions in their eyes.

A collective sigh permeated the room, silent but present. The slender drummer continued.

“Kaoru,” he ventured, “tomorrow—we have a photo shoot, a photo shoot and a meeting, remember?”

Kaoru bit off a curse. “You’re right...” He reached up, touched the side of his face that was bruised and inflamed. Strange, how the pain somehow did not reach him, how it was a distant thing he could easily dismiss. Perhaps when compared to the other pain around him it was merely physical, it was not so bad.

Toshiya, too, had that bruise on his face, and they all suffered from lack of sleep—the photo shoot had to be cancelled.

He said so, adding “I’ll talk to them about it. I’ll call them and reschedule. But the meeting—we’ll continue with that.”

Shinya nodded brief approval; he still hovered near the door. “Die—Die said he would be there.”

< That’s what I want... What I don’t want... >

His thoughts and emotions were conflicting. He didn’t want Die to leave. At the same time, he didn’t want to see him.

He tired to hold down a sigh.

Conversation grew stagnant after that, Shinya took his leave quietly, fading out of the room and to his car. Toshiya murmured that he needed a ride home, and Kyo offered to do so after a nod from Kaoru. It was only then that Kaoru let his arm fall from Toshiya’s shoulders.

Kaoru let Toshiya and Kyo leave before him, lingering in the studio because he did not know what else to do. He felt listless, and he had silently asked Kyo to take Toshiya home for reasons he did not understand. Somehow it didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel right on some level he could not identify.

He needed to be alone and without the influences of his life and his emotions around him, not in physical form. The day wore on in silence; once he was alone the quiet was still and not so much oppressive as enveloping, comforting. The sun shone bleakly on a softly quiet, lonely day, on a lone, ghosted figure haunting an empty studio.

 

to be continued

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