by NightMajik

Dedication: Razzy Rain – The verdict’s in. This series would be nothing without you. *HUGS*

Beautiful: Part Nine - Yesterday

*

“But now I stand alone with my pride

And dream that you’re still by my side

But that was yesterday

I had the world I my hands

But it’s not the end of my world

Just a slight change of plans

That was yesterday

But today life goes on

No more hiding in yesterday

‘Cause yesterday’s gone”

-- “Yesterday”, Foreigner

*

Kaoru woke up without opening his eyes, rising into the cottony feel of morning gradually, keeping his gaze in soft, comforting darkness in an effort to cling to the peace and the reality of the night before, an effort that was, perhaps, only half-conscious.

He lifted a hand, searching next to him with wandering fingers because he suddenly realized that he felt alone, there was no one touching him, no one against him.

He shouldn’t be alone. His memories and thoughts claimed otherwise.

But his fingers skimmed only cool sheets.

Kaoru suddenly felt cold, that cloudy comfort dissipated like smoke. He turned his head—he was laying on his back—and opened his eyes slowly, uncovering his vision with a sharp apprehension...

And there was Toshiya, curled up on his side on the other edge of the bed with his back, slender and palely white in the morning light, facing Kaoru. The sheets had fallen halfway down to his waist, and he clutched his pillow with both hands. Kaoru heard even, soft breathing in the silence.

Toshiya was there, Kaoru was not waking alone, Toshiya had not left him while he slept. A soft sigh of relief escaped his lips. They had merely, it seemed, drifted apart in sleep. Kaoru then dimly recalled waking at some point in the middle of the night—early morning, in fact—with his arms still around Toshiya, the bassist lost in content slumber against him. Some time between then and waking they had clearly rolled apart.

Kaoru let a soft smile touch his lips, he shifted slightly over and touched Toshiya’s shoulder gently, then trailed his fingers down and traced light, meaningless patterns on the smooth canvas of his back.

A moment later he heard Toshiya sigh, then felt it turn into a stir. He let his hand drop back to the sheets, watched as Toshiya shifted, stretching slightly and releasing his tight hold on the pillow. He, too, seemed slow crawling into wakefulness, but when he did, he spoke. He didn’t turn around.

“....Kaoru?”

The bassist’s voice was nearly a whisper, his words sounded—strained, frightened. Kaoru stroked his back again, lightly.

“I’m here.”

He heard a soft sigh. Then Toshiya rolled to his back, turned his head, and his depthless eyes fell on Kaoru. Shimmering strands of long hair spread on the pillow behind him, disarrayed but still beautiful. A few strands crept forward to his face.

“You seemed scared,” Kaoru continued quietly, speaking of the fear he had heard in Toshiya’s voice. “Were you afraid it was a dream?” He couldn’t stop studying Toshiya’s face, eyes traveling constantly the perfect features, delicate and elegant even upon first waking.

“No,” Toshiya murmured. His word was enough to draw Kaoru’s gaze back to his eyes. Toshiya let his eyes slide closed after a shared, silent glance. “I was afraid it was real...”

Kaoru closed his own eyes with a flash of pain. “Don’t say that,” he whispered. He pushed himself up on one shoulder, reached out, arms seeking Toshiya to pull the bassist against him. Toshiya did not resist, willingly let himself be brought closer to Kaoru, touch him, lay against him. Kaoru settled once again onto his back, arms loosely around Toshiya, and the slender bassist pressed his face against Kaoru’s collarbone and the crook of his shoulder, hiding from the morning

Kaoru let the hurt slip away; Toshiya’s actions spoke in conflict of his words. He breathed a soft, deep sigh. “You don’t mean that,” he murmured, directing his voice down to the hidden countenance.

“Yes I do,” Toshiya countered, shaking his head slightly. He placed a kiss on Kaoru’s neck.

“Totchi,” Kaoru said softly, prompting the bassist to lift his eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

Toshiya looked away. “Everything,” he whispered. “Kaoru... What we did last night—we shouldn’t have done that. It—it changes everything-”

The guitarist cut him off. “I know,” he said, softly but firmly, lifting one of his arms and running it lightly through the fall of hair down Toshiya’s back. “But—you can’t say it makes things worse.”

Toshiya still didn’t look at him, staring blankly at the headboard behind them. “But it does,” he insisted.

“Why?” Kaoru countered. “Do you plan to continue to pursue anything with Die? After all of this?”

Toshiya bit his lip, his eyes flickered to Kaoru. He shook his head.

“Then this makes nothing worse.” He hesitated. Then: “Unless... you regret last night.”

“No.” Toshiya spoke nearly on top of his voice, covering Kaoru’s words before there could be any moment of hesitation or doubt. His voice was quiet but immediate, insistent. His gaze finally met Kaoru’s directly for more than a moment.

“I love you... I do,” he whispered fiercely, fingers suddenly touching Kaoru’s face lightly, soft and warm.

Kaoru reached up, took his wrist gently, kissed Toshiya’s fingertips. “I know,” he soothed, whispered. “I love you, too,” he returned.

Part of him knew that those words didn’t need to be said. They simply—didn’t need to find voice. He knew this suddenly, it was a flash of introspection; their actions were the most deeply reflective of their thoughts and emotions, words did not need to affirm anything. That emotion between them had always been there in the past and had never needed to be said. The only purpose, now, of saying those words was for the fragile human mind. For a sense of surety because sometimes it was hard to trust what is only implied, no matter how deeply, truly, and firmly it exists.

Toshiya pressed a soft kiss to his lips, leaning up to meet Kaoru in a short but meaningful action. When he drew away, Kaoru released his hand, gently stroked his face.

“This wasn’t a one-night stand,” he whispered. “I have you now. I won’t let you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” Toshiya murmured. He dropped his face again, settled back against Kaoru, arm across Kaoru’s chest and countenance hidden once again, comfortably cradled against Kaoru’s shoulder. “But... the others... everything...” His voice seemed lost, forlorn.

“The others don’t matter,” Kaoru told him softly. “Not in this. Not enough to affect us.”

< After everything, after all that we’ve been through... Don’t we deserve this? >

Distantly Kaoru wondered if the thought was selfish. He didn’t intend it to be so, but on some level, he knew it had to be. But he could not stifle the sentiment.

“But... we’ll have to tell them,” Toshiya whispered. “Die, especially. He—he has to know.”

A sigh escaped the guitarist’s lips. “You’re right,” he said. “They have to find out...”

Sudden flash of thought.

< Oh, Shin-chan... > Kaoru closed his eyes. < I’m sorry... >

He held Toshiya tighter against him as he sent the silent, pained apology to Shinya. < Shinya, Shinya... How are you so strong? Watching me fall more and more deeply for Toshiya... Worry, *think*, only about him, then turn around and look to you for support... >

< I am selfish... You were always there. I know I was hurting you, but you only wanted to help in whatever way you could, make things right in spite of your pain. And now this... Toshiya and me. Finally together. >

< This, this will hurt you too. But I know you won’t break... I couldn’t let that happen, could never be the cause of it, and I know that I won’t because of this. You’re strong... Maybe too strong for your happiness... >

With a painful effort, Kaoru pushed the thoughts away, pulled himself back to the morning, the present.

“Do you think we should tell them today?” Kaoru asked Toshiya softly, staring at the ceiling.

Toshiya shifted slightly against him, seeming to settle more comfortably. “...Maybe. I think so. It won’t get easier, and... why wait?”

Kaoru sighed. “You’re right...”

Toshiya continued. “I want... I want to tell Die first. Let him know before the rest of the band. And—and I’d like to tell him myself.”

Kaoru nodded. “I understand,” he said.

“Maybe... I could meet him somewhere. Before we gather the others at the studio or wherever. It seems like... it would almost be cruel to do it otherwise, to have others around...”

Kaoru was already shaking his head. Toshiya trailed off, perhaps feeling his action or simply letting his words die.

“No.” Kaoru’s voice was still quiet, but had acquired an odd, almost conflicting edge of steel and despair. “I can’t... I can’t let you do that. I don’t want you alone with him.”

“Kaoru...”

“He hurt you, Totchi. He *hurt* you. Do you think I could—I could stand by and let you see him alone? To tell him that you and me are now together, tell him how much things have changed? I couldn’t do that, if anything happened again...” He trailed off.

“Demo...” Toshiya’s voice was not firm, he was wavering, indecisive.

Kaoru continued, speaking gently. He was careful to keep his tone away from anything demanding or commanding, it was the last way he wanted to come across. “Totchi... Please. I just... the thought of you and him... What if...”

He was having obvious difficulty forming a sentence, his words merely followed the pleading of his thoughts. Toshiya hushed him with a soft sound.

“Shh... Okay,” he murmured. “Okay, Kaoru. I understand.” He hugged Kaoru tighter.

The guitarist, relieved, let himself relax, continued to gaze blankly at the ceiling. “Okay,” he continued some moments later, after some time of thinking. “I’ll call a practice today... Sometime later, afternoon, a short one. It’s already pretty late in the morning as it is. I’ll—call Shinya, I guess, and he can let Die know. I don’t think he would mind. And I’ll call Kyo. We can meet at the studio, then you can talk to Die, off to the side or something. Then we can let the rest know.”

Toshiya listened in thoughtful silence. When Kaoru trailed off he murmured his assent.

Neither of them commented on the fact that they did not know what would happen next. What would happen once Die knew, once the rest of Dir en Grey knew. There was a mutual sensation that they couldn’t allow themselves to voice that concern. Not when they were laying together in the morning, when the reality of the previous night they had stolen was still partially in existence.

“I’ll call them in a little while,” Kaoru finally said into the soft, breathless silence, the perpetuating, stolen moment.

< I just want to lay here like this, with you... A moment longer, an eternity... Keep this as long as we can before we have to face the day. >

A mumble was his only response. Toshiya seemed to be drifting back into sleep. Kaoru leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of Toshiya’s head. The bassist barely moved, stirring reflexively in response before falling still once again.

Reaching carefully down with one arm, not wanting to disturb Toshiya, Kaoru caught the sheet in his fingers, drew it further up over them.

For this morning, for this moment, this was all he wanted. To lie with Toshiya, to put off any confrontation and uncertainty until they were ready. Events had fallen in a cascade, things had happened and changed without warning, Kaoru—any of them—had never had time to prepare.

Just this once, he wanted to be ready to face what would come. He wanted to be prepared, to convince himself that somehow it would end up alright.

He just wanted to be with Toshiya.

*

He was sprawled on the couch against the far wall, slouched and with eyes flickering continuously and thoughtfully about the room. Watching Shinya sit in distant, blank silence, watching Die pace restlessly.

It was strange. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react to—everything. Kyo knew, he finally *knew*, what was going on—in Die’s words; but it was still knowledge—but he remained an outsider, a bystander. One with knowledge of events, but still standing on the sidelines. Waiting like the others, watching the others.

< Not that I’m volunteering to be involved. >

For everything that had occurred, when all events that had come to pass were considered, Die spoke of the situation with words that came across remarkably unbiased. With the lashing anger Kyo had been witness to in the studio, he would not have expected Die to explain with words so calm. Perhaps he simply was growing weary, perhaps his attitude was, at the time of telling, tempered with worry for the then-absent Toshiya.

Die had told everything to Kyo simply, flatly. His emotions had reflected strongly in his eyes and subtle actions, sometimes breaking into his voice at the more dynamic moments and memories, but he had narrated as simply as possible. He had not exerted himself in expressing the situation as seen through his eyes. Kyo, instead, heard it only by his voice, a biased view was not forced upon him. This led him to believe Die was telling it like it was, as closely as one involved might.

Die had started at the beginning, at the time months ago that he had slept with someone else while drunk. Kyo recalled that evening dimly, because he had been out with Die. He never knew until the time of Die’s telling, now months later, the ramifications of that evening, Toshiya and Die had hidden what transpired between them laudably.

Die explained how he and Toshiya had fought, how they had almost broken up and how Die knew how badly he had screwed up, had willingly accepted the blame and did everything in his power to correct his fault, to find forgiveness. When he had spoken of this there had been a certain desperation in his voice, as if that emotion from when he was striving to protect his and Toshiya’s relationship was returning.

Then he went on to explain the current situation. How Shinya saw Kaoru and Toshiya in the studio, kissing, how he had confronted Kaoru and found out that Toshiya and Kaoru had been somewhat directly, somewhat indirectly, courting each other, how there was some illicit emotion between them.

He related in a quiet, dead voice how Shinya had called only days later to tell Die, how Shinya had been crying at the time and said he just had to call, he had to tell Die because it wasn’t fair. The redhead admitted softly that the conversation was something of a blur because the words Shinya had just said, about Toshiya and Kaoru, were screaming in his mind.

And then—‘betrayal’, leaving his lips like a hiss, an accusation. He called what happened deeper than cheating, he called it betrayal with both venom and pain straining his voice.

And the rest...

“The rest,” Die had said. “You know.” And, indeed, Kyo did know, he knew how deeply the situation had degenerated. How Die had begun treating Toshiya, how everyone had been affected.

He had wanted to question Die, then. There were things he wanted to *know*, not about what happened, but about the way Die felt. He understood that Die was in pain, how utterly awful it must be for Toshiya to fall for someone else. He did not, however, condone the way Die had reacted. Anger was understandable, almost expected, but Die had taken it too far. Violence was not the way he should have reacted. Not, in Kyo’s opinion, if Die loved Toshiya.

And that’s what he wanted to ask, to say. ‘Do you love Toshiya?’ He wanted to know what Die would say. It was incomprehensible to Kyo that you could hurt someone you loved in the way Toshiya had been hurt, physically and mentally; although Die had not said it directly, there had been enough clear hints in his choice of words and manner that he blamed Toshiya, another thing of which Kyo did not completely approve.

But then again—he was not Die; he could now empathize more with the other man, but he could not understand. He had a feeling that Die would say he loved Toshiya, that he did so in a way that, to others, was twisted. His emotions had been clouded, stained, by things that should not go there, should not rest hand-in-hand with love.

But he could not ask that question. He knew that Die was far too volatile, he didn’t want to risk it. He wondered, even, if it would have been his place to question such a thing, independent of the situation.

Kyo had settled, then, for mostly listening, holding back questions in spite of an inherent curiosity. There was one part of the conversation that kept rising in his mind, however. Despite Die’s admission that Kyo knew the rest, he had touched briefly on the fight in the studio with Kaoru which Kyo had been witness to.

Kyo didn’t recall how it had come about. He just let Die talk, and he listened, he figured it was the least he could do. Up until that point, he had basically been doing nothing as far as he was concerned. He may as well listen.

As Kyo listened, however, Die’s words turned to the fight, his words seemed to almost turn inward, as if he forgot that he was speaking out loud.

His voice, when he spoke of Kaoru, was noticeably harsher, more bitter, than when he spoke of Toshiya.

“When Kaoru came at me, pushed me against the wall, after seeing Toshiya... It wasn’t his right. It wasn’t. He had done enough already...”

Die’s gaze had turned inward, voice dropped slightly lower. Kyo saw the rigidness of his jaw.

“It was never his place to interfere. But he did... At that moment—I had never hated Kaoru more. For what he had done... was doing. Was taking from me. I don’t understand. I didn’t, I still don’t... Why... why it has to be this way. Why he had to take Toshiya, *him*, of all things from me.”

His fingers had been clutching his half-empty glass tightly.

“He has everything already... why...”

And at that moment, as Kyo listened in quiet, painful silence, Die had recovered himself, and his voice had abruptly dropped off. That was near the end of their conversation.

Kyo’s mind kept turning those words over; every time he saw the same emotion in Die’s eyes. He knew, then, with a cold wash of realization, that Die was jealous of Kaoru. By the way he spoke, so harshly bitter, it seemed it had been that way for a long time, perhaps not consciously, but a wound that was festering.

That one starkly clear fact made the situation more understandable, made Die’s rage, although no more welcomed, something easier to understand. On top of everything, losing Toshiya, finding out that Toshiya had feelings for another, it was Kaoru, Kaoru who Die apparently envied or felt threatened by in the first place.

And as Kyo sat there on the couch, thinking every thing through yet another time, he knew he was on the outside, and it was there that he would remain. He could not take sides. When this began, before he knew any of Die’s motives, he knew he had begun to side with Kaoru and the others in whatever it was that was going on. Seeing Die and Kaoru fight, seeing the way Die had treated Toshiya... Kyo had been upset, had begun to blame Die.

Now, he knew more, he had heard the story from Die and seen clearly the emotions involved. He knew he couldn’t have all the information, but he knew enough to understand he couldn’t afford to take sides. He could empathize with everyone involved, he could see how they all had hurt and been hurt, but he would remain a bystander.

He sighed as he stretched on the couch, absently rubbing the back of his neck and straightening from the position that had become uncomfortable. He focused his eyes, turning his gaze outward once again. Shinya remained where he had been, sitting silent and motionless like soft stone. Die still paced; Kyo saw shadows on his face.

When Kyo drew himself out of thoughts, as if knowing Kyo was aware once again, Die stopped abruptly.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” he announced, gaze flickering only momentarily to Kyo. The vocalist didn’t even have time to give a nod of acknowledgement before Die strode to the parking lot door and disappeared. Kyo watched him go with solemn, thoughtful eyes.

*

Die shoved his hand into his pocket as he shouldered the door aside, searching for his cigarettes as he broke into the grayness of the parking lot and the wan shimmer of the afternoon. Immediately upon exiting he felt a light breeze swirl by, neither cool nor warm. Perhaps it was sweet to the afternoon, but to him it was merely stale. The sun’s shine was meaningless, the grays and the blacks were deep and stark.

He drew a deep breath, turning it into a long drag as he lit his cigarette. He was not angry, he was trying to be sure of that. He had entertained the hot, flammable anger for too long, he had now begun, finally, to swallow that fire. Emotions were still strong, that anger was solidifying into something cold and hard, but for the sake of something he could not identify he wanted to restrain himself from reacting without thinking.

Frustration was the strongest thing hovering within him now. Frustration and impatience. Shinya had called him earlier, telling him to meet at the studio at two o’clock, that Kaoru had found Toshiya sometime the previous day or night, he didn’t even know when, and the bassist was alright. Die had spared a relieved wash for the knowledge of Toshiya’s return, but then had immediately demanded why they were to meet. Shinya said he didn’t know, and Die knew he wasn’t lying, and so had been forced to hang up with no expectations. Now he was here, at the studio, waiting. Waiting, waiting, nothing more, nothing less.

The only two not present were Kaoru and Toshiya.

Something was happening. Die did not know what, but something in the threads and the lives that wove Dir en Grey was changing again. Distantly, he wondered when the change would stop. Every change had brought some sort of pain.

< I can’t believe how much everything has changed... >

There was a distinct tinge of sorrow to the thought that he refused to acknowledge. He thought with a sense of regret and a wistful quality and a thousand other things. But he would not allow himself sorrow.

< Everything. I’ve lost Toshiya... I know it, it’s all but written in stone by now. Drove him away...? Maybe. Lost him to Kaoru... Surely. Kaoru... >

Die closed his eyes, took another fulfilling drag of his cigarette.

< I remember what it used to be like. Friends... We were friends. I never told you... After the first time I met you, I always wanted to be like you. Have your determination, your ideals... Not goof off like I always, inherently did. You earned yourself a lot... >

< And then I got Toshiya. He was mine, he was with me, he *loved* me... And you took that from me. That—that’s when everything changed between me and you. Funny... Within me there was no transition. We were friends, and then—we were enemies, enemies because you took him away from me. >

< You changed, *you* did. You changed and you were no longer the person I thought you were, the person I idolized... what happened to your ideals? Morals? I thought you were good. Trustworthy. But you took him from me... >

< They love you.. Shinya and Toshiya. You have them both, even if you only want one. While I... I have nothing. So many times... I think about you. How you could do this to me, take him away, how you can have anything and everything... >

< So many times in the past days have I told myself how much I hated you... >

Die’s gaze was hooded as he stared without sight at the parking lot, at the unforgiving and unyielding stones of black and gray building the world around him. He realized, then, that he was leaning back against the wall, head tilted helplessly against the rough stone, fingers dangling limply at his side.

He looked down, at the loose, forlorn grip he kept on the cigarette. Listlessly he let it drop. Deliberately he put his heel over it, crushing the partially-smoked cigarette firmly into the cold ground.

His eyes remained next to it when he pulled his foot away, gazing, staring into the stone.

“I hate you,” he whispered.

The sound of a car drew Die out of his thoughts; he realized, then, that the soft sound of the motor had approached already a few moments ago. He had successfully forgotten about having to wait, forgotten his frustration of the moment, lost himself in thought, but it didn’t matter in the end. No light thoughts took their place. The thoughts that had instead circled his mind were as dark, perhaps worse, than his impatience and waiting, they were a cycle he could not escape, a lament, a mantra that haunted him before this and that would haunt him later.

He ran a hand through his hair restlessly, then lifted his eyes in time to see a car that he knew parking across the lot. His muscles tensed, he stood there motionless, rigid. Waiting, watching.

He watched as out of Kaoru’s car climbed too figures, first Kaoru appearing, and then the passenger door opening and the slender bassist slipping out.

He watched as the pair walked toward the back of the car, in the direction of the studio, but did not look ahead, looked instead at each other.

He watched them pause. Watched soft words exchanged with heads bowed together, saw fingers idly join, twine together as they spoke.

He watched as they leaned forward on a reciprocal note, in a mutual moment, and shared a soft, lingering kiss.

A flash of pain struck him, his eyes hurt, his heart hurt. That deep anger boiled in him, but it remained cold and hard, like his thoughts, like his heart.

Gritting his teeth, tearing his eyes from the couple painted in pastels against the backdrop of purely dim and gray surroundings, he turned on his heel and stalked inside. His foot scraped over the cigarette crushed mercilessly into the ground, he left it’s remains in the wan afternoon.

Two pairs of eyes lifted upon his entrance, curious because of the abruptness. He met neither man’s gaze and rigidly said nothing as his thoughts boiled, as he saw Kaoru and Toshiya kissing in a flashing, mocking image in his mind.

He had known he lost Toshiya, he had admitted it to himself earlier with bitterness and angry regret. That didn’t mean he wanted to see them together. Together and happy. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt him when he was forced to face that cruel reality.

The silence was unnatural, his entrance had affected it. He knew the others sensed his alteration in mood, he knew that they wanted to ask what was wrong but were afraid to voice anything. Thus the silence continued with long, pulsing moments.

A few stainless, still seconds that seemed infinitely long after Die’s re-entry the door once again opened. Die refused to turn around, stopping near his guitar and looking blankly at it instead. But he watched reflexively and unwillingly from the corner of his eye as Kyo’s eyes swiveled to the door, watched as the short man sat up to attention from his slouch.

The first words to break the silence—a short silence in which Die could imagine Kaoru standing just inside the door with Toshiya, both of them perhaps uncertain—were Shinya’s.

“Yokatta,” Die heard him breathe. “Toshiya... I’m happy to see you’re okay.”

“Arigato,” Toshiya murmured, a genuine expression of thanks in his voice.

Unable to resist, Die cast a brief, hard glance over his shoulder in time to see a soft smile on Toshiya’s ever-beautiful features. He felt a stab of jealous, angry pain. He turned back around, listening, glaring at nothing.

Kaoru cleared his throat. “Thank you for coming, minna, and sorry that we were late. As you see, Toshiya’s fine, and... Well, I’d like to try to get some good practice in today. It’s been a while since we’ve had a productive rehearsal...”

Die heard murmurs of assent: after all, their leader had spoken. Then came the soft sounds of movement as the other four dispersed behind him, preparing for practice.

Eyes dark and hard, Die gazed at his guitar a moment longer, seeing the reflection of things other than his face in the glossy surface. He was just reaching to pick it up, ending his self-induced trance, when a light, hesitant hand touched his arm.

The guitarist turned slightly and found himself meeting the deep, dimly glittering gaze of Toshiya. In his eyes Die saw endless flickers of emotion, apprehension, determination, regret, some sort of supplication.

Die’s voice was flat when he addressed those pale features.

“What?”

He spoke without emotion, there was no anger, only quiet rigidity, but Toshiya still flinched slightly.

“I... I wanted to talk to you,” he explained softly, eyes automatically flickering about their surroundings, as if checking who was near.

The others were a safe distance away, however, all of them occupied in some manner. Die’s shrewd gaze noted, though, that although Kaoru did not look directly at them, whatever he was doing was obviously only to make him look busy.

Die’s eyes returned to Toshiya. That flashing image of the pair kissing in the parking lot burned at him, mocked him.

“Die...” Toshiya began softly.

“I know.”

Die cut Toshiya off, speaking through gritted teeth. Confusion swept through Toshiya’s eyes, he seemed taken aback by the response.

“You-”

“Tell the rest of them, Toshiya,” Die grated. “Don’t share your happy news with only me. Let them all know.”

Toshiya studied him and shrank back slightly, then turning partially away over his shoulder. Die saw his eyes seek Kaoru’s, looking for some sort of guidance automatically even though Kaoru had not been partial to the conversation. The other guitarist saw Toshiya’s thrown glance, concern rose in his features as he dropped the pretense of not paying attention to them.

Die turned sharply and walked away to get an amp before Toshiya could move or speak again. < What were you trying to do, Toshiya? Soften the blow, tell me you’re with *him* before you told the others? >

< It doesn’t matter, I know already. Nothing was softened, I don’t care if it was. I saw it coming. Tell the rest, get it over with. >

There was movement behind him once more, the soft sounds of shifting, of soft footsteps. As he bent down and picked up his amp he heard Kaoru’s distinct, now loathed voice break the stillness.

“Ne, minna,” he said, speaking hesitantly though not nervously. “Before we start... I wanted to speak to you.”

Die watched as Kyo and Shinya looked at Kaoru curiously, and then exchanged a wondering glance between themselves. They complied wordlessly, pausing in their actions and waiting to see what Kaoru had to say.

< Waiting, waiting for him, listening to whatever he says... >

Die’s thoughts were acridly bitter as he continued to move, taking the amp toward his place. He felt multiple eyes shift to and then quickly away from him, but he ignored every gaze. The silence around him was rigid, the stillness upon the rest of the room was merely curious. Jealously he clutched that defiant, invisible cloak about himself, keeping that steely anger only to himself and using it as a rebuffing shield, forcing others to shy away.

Kaoru continued and Die wished he could force himself not to listen as he set the amp on the ground.

“This... is somewhat awkward,” Kaoru said. “Not the easiest thing to tell, in more ways than one, but I think it’s only fair that you all know...”

He paused, seemed to hesitate. Then he addressed their vocalist. “Kyo-”

“Kaoru,” Kyo cut in, “before you say anything... I know about what’s going on. Last night... Die told me.”

Die cast a glance over his shoulder, saw Kaoru’s eyes swerve to him, slightly widened with obvious surprise. Other gazes turned to him too. Kyo’s that was thoughtful, Shinya’s that was unreadable, Toshiya’s that skittered away from any direct contact. All of their eyes upon him, Die straightened, turning fully around and lifting his chin slightly in an unconscious gesture of defiance.

Eyes melted away.

“Then... that makes it easier to say this, explain this. A lot has happened,” Kaoru continued. “A lot of which was never planned, never intended in any way. But there’s no use looking back with the intent to change it...

“This”—it was interesting the way he spoke, the vague way he indicated the situation with the simple word ‘this’; how he encompassed the anger, fights, regret, jealousy, and unfaithfulness with a single word—“began with... with Toshiya and me.”

He stated those words clearly, as if they were something he was resigned to, and as if he was not willing to let himself ever try to shirk the blame.

< It doesn’t matter, Kaoru, > Die thought bitterly. < Whether you acknowledge that you and Toshiya were the cause of this all, it doesn’t matter. You regain no innocence, you gain no mercy. Whether you admit it to be your fault or not, what has happened has happened and I don’t believe anything will ever be the same again. >

“And now,” Kaoru was saying, continuing with a determined undertone in his voice, “I’d like to think that everything that has been happening, the pain and the confusion and all of the difficulties, can come to an end, ending with me and Toshiya as it began.”

The slim bassist was standing near Kaoru, not quite by his side. His hands were folded in front of him, his gaze often fixed down except when he stole curious, flickering glances at the others.

Die, too, followed his example, stealing a glance first at Shinya, then Kyo. In both men’s eyes there was a reflection that they understood what Kaoru was saying, they knew what he was aiming at.

The words still, however, had to be said. To drive the point home.

< To make my suffering and my distance more secure. >

“So... we just wanted to tell you”—as he spoke the word ‘we’ he lifted his hand, and then Toshiya was by his side, their hands were twined together—“that we’re together now.”

Silence, silence rife with emotions that came not only from Die but from every other presence. Emotions affected the air, painted an invisible picture on the very breath of life itself. A stir to the breathing air made by wistfulness; a flat heaviness created by anger; a warm patch with new love, a cold dryness with bitterness.

No one commented on this announcement, Die wondered if they had all seen it approaching like some sort of march of fate. Kyo may not have, but Shinya—the thought that Kaoru and Toshiya would inevitably find or fight their way to each other must have been clear to his breaking heart.

But Die did not allow himself to feel compunction for Shinya, not for any of them. He maintained that cool cover, clutched the justifiable, cold, hard anger deep inside to make himself strong.

Stillness turned into practice, silence finally built, drifted into song. Die did not know whether practice was ‘good’ that day or not. They were all rusty, they were all preoccupied, even Kaoru, despite his words.

< Although, > he thought darkly, sardonically, < this is the first practice we’re making it through in a while. That has to count for something. >

There was no heart behind the words and the music, but Kaoru said nothing in the form of chastisement at the end of practice, as the hours set aside for this moment drew to a close determined by Kaoru’s decree. Die did not linger as practice ended, he was the quickest to move and still with the most rigid movements, with that shield clutched tight.

The others did not avoid him as he put his amp and guitar away, actions swift and expressing his desire to be gone from there, but neither did they approach him. He thought he saw Shinya watching him once, perhaps twice, but each time when he turned the drummer seemed to never have looked his way or only have been in the process of turning his head.

Die thought nothing of it, there was nothing to think. He simply wanted to be gone. It was a maddening strain being with the others like this, being with those the represented his former life that he been turned upside down and ripped apart. It was easier to be alone with his thoughts in spite of their pain and anger and endless, remote circles.

He didn’t say goodbye as he strode out the door, and no one sought to stop him. As he left he felt a discreet pair of eyes on him, he was sure of it, but he had not the will or the inspiration to turn around and look. He simply wanted to be gone.

The guitarist embraced the evening, the open, silent, uncaring atmosphere that greeted him. The sky didn’t care what he had said or how he felt, the sky didn’t care about what was happening, wasn’t involved. It was a blessing in a way, to finally not see blame or anger or pain reflected at him. Only sky. Only blue.

As the days, the hours, and the minutes had continued to pass, he had continually told himself how things were changing. With each new event something happened, something *changed*. It kept happening.

As he left the studio behind him, walked under a blissfully uncaring sky and with the impulse to go anywhere but where he was, as events and thoughts tumbled endlessly in his mind, he only then began to realize how much things were changing. How irrevocable choices had been made and could never be undone, how the future was something he had never foreseen but would have to face. He saw in his mind, began to know in his heart, what end this was ultimately, inexorably, leading to.

to be continued

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