This was something that was somewhat irritating, if not a tiny bit amusing.
Eiri had stepped out of the bathroom, getting ready to make sweet, sweet love to the same lover who had begged for it only twenty minutes ago. But once he walked into the bedroom, Shuichi was sprawled out on the bed, snoozing away. He looked exhausted with his mouth slack and no noise coming from him. His chest rose and fell with each breath.
Well so much for the 'hot, steamy sex' Shuichi wanted. The novelist rolled his eyes and moved the singer over to his spot and tucked him in; he didn't even stir. If this was going to become a regular thing, then Eiri would have a chat with his manager.
Climbing over to his side, he tucked himself in and closed his eyes. He did not fall asleep as easily as Shuichi. His thoughts kept haunting him. What could he write next for his upcoming novel? What if this or that happened? What would he have for breakfast? But, he needed sleep, so he tried to clear his head, and slowly drifted off.
Ert! Ert! Ert!
What the hell was that? Eiri lifted his head up from his pillow, his vision blurry from sleep. He looked over to his night table and saw the bright red numbers on the alarm clock. Seven A.M. He had never seen it before. He usually woke up to Shuichi's alarm on his cell phone, playing that damn Nittle Grasper song; "The Shining something". He sat up and lifted it up, trying to find the off switch.
When it was located and the blasted noise stopped, Eiri looked over to make sure Shuichi had heard it, because he knew the alarm wasn't for him. But when he looked over, he he didn't see the pink haired singer. There wasn't even an indent of his body.
He must have left earlier, Eiri deducted. But still, earlier than seven A.M.? They were working him too hard. He usually didn't go in until nine at the earliest. Well, if Shuichi was up before the alarm, why the hell didn't he turn it off? Now Eiri couldn't fall asleep.
He pushed his tired legs over the edge of the bed and stretched his tired limbs. Scratching his rear, he made his way into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He found himself to be very hungry right now. If felt like he hadn't eaten in days, but he remembered he had had a very good dinner just yesterday.
He searched around in the kitchen for food, but found that he had hardly anything.
Didn't he just go shopping last week? Shuichi ate too much to be that skinny. He must be giving it out to the homeless. Since he couldn't make pancakes like he wanted, he decided to just have one of the microwavable meals he found. After letting it cook for three minutes, he took it out and peeled off the plastic wrap. The steam burned his hand.
"Shit, shit!" Eiri covered the burn with his mouth before he went over to the sink and poured cold water on it. This morning was not starting off well.
After eating his breakfast, if that's what you wanted to call it, he went to the bathroom for his morning shower. When he looked at his reflection, he saw the stubble of a five o'clock shadow. He opened the medicine cabinet for his razor and shaving cream, and saw two perscription bottles he had never seen before. When he picked them up, he saw they were perscribed to him.
'Take one pill twice a day with food for depression'. He read the other. 'Take one pill once in the morning for anxiety'.
There was no explanation for this. He wasn't on any medication. And for depression and anxiety? He was not either of those. How strange.
Instead of investigating it, he decided to put the pills back and continue to shave; better to ignore the problem.
While he was shaving, he heard someone open and shut his front door.
"About time you showed up," Eiri called out as he gently scrapped the razor through the shaving cream down his cheek.
"Well, sorry," came a sarcastic voice, but it was not Shuichi's. His brother, Tatsuha, showed up in the doorway. "Good to see you're shaving."
Eiri lifted an eyebrow at his younger brother. "Well, I wouldn't live up to my gorgeous reputation if I looked like a caveman." He ran the razor under the stream of water, cleaning it of the hair.
Tatsuha leaned against the frame of the doorway. "How are you feeling?"
Eiri turned to look at his brother. It was a simple question, but the way he said it made Eiri quirk an eyebrow. Tatsuha said it hesitantly, like he was expecting him to have a sudden mood swing.
"I'm fine," he said slowly, "How are you?"
Tatsuha gave the smallest of smiles. "I'm good. Still..." He trailed off, looking down at his feet. Eiri was going to ask what the hell was wrong with him, but his brother snapped his head up. "Anyway, I just came over to see when you would need a refill on your perscriptions."
"Perscriptions?" Oh yeah, the pills. "Oh, I don't know."
"Well, how many pills were left when you took your medicine?"
"I didn't take any medicine."
"Eiri!"
Eiri patted down his face with a towel. "Tatsuha."
Tatsuha cocked his head and gave Eiri a look that he did not like seeing. It was a look of pity. "Please take your medicine, Eiri. You need them. If Nee-san finds out that you aren't taking them, she won't hesitate to have you hospitalized."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the adult behavioral hospital..."
"Not that, you dumbass," Eiri snapped at him, "I'm talking about me needing the pills in the first place. What the fuck do I need them for?"
Tatsuha closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Nii-chan, please don't fight with me. Just take the pills."
Eiri threw his towel down. "Look, I don't know what the hell is going on here, but I'm not depressed nor am I anxious. I should have a perscription for high blood pressure with all the shit I get from you and Shuichi."
Tatsuha looked down at the floor. His dark hair covered his eyes. "Oh, Eiri." He stepped closer and then wrapped his arms around his big brother.
Eiri just stiffened at the unwanted touch.
What the hell was going on?
"Whatever new spiritual journey Dad has put you on," Eiri said as he pushed his brother off, "tell him to keep me out of it. I'm not going on this Nirvana trip with you."
Tatsuha didn't say anything. He just gave his brother those same sad, pitying eyes.
Finally he nodded. "Yeah. You're right. Hey, I won't tell Nee-chan about you not taking your meds, if you promise not to do anything stupid, okay?"
Eiri leaned his head back a little, giving his brother a quizzical look like he was examining a new specimen. "Will do," he decided on saying.
Tatsuha nodded again and left.
I've got to remind him he's not supposed to inhale the incense, Eiri thought.
Something seemed to be very off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had expected his publisher to call and whine about the update on his next chapter, but the phone hadn't rang, nor could he even find his own laptop. That could only mean that Shuichi had taken it again.
Damn brat, Eiri thought as he snatched up the phone and dialed Shuichi's number. It didn't even ring before the automatic operator came on.
⌠We're sorry, the number you have reached is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again."
Eiri looked back at the number. That was Shuichi's. He hung up and did as the operator said, and tried again. The same message came up. That could mean that Shuichi was out of service. Great, he didn't have his laptop. Couldn't get in touch with Shuichi. He had hardly any food in the house. He looked outside the balcony window. Great, it was raining, too. Now he was stuck in his house.
Finding the only source of entertainment was the television, Eiri sat down on his leather couch and turned the channel. On the music network showed a black and white picture of Shuichi with curly white letters spelling out something, but before he could read it, the camera switched to the female host.
"And now, for us today in honor of Shindou Shuichi, is Sakuma Ryuichi," she said, "Singing for us 'Memories' a song he wrote in dedication to Shuichi."
And then, on a darkened stage where only a bluish white light shone down stepped out in front of the mic, was Ryuichi. There was only a pianist and a violinist playing behind him. Shuichi had made Eiri watch the childish singer's concerts so much, he could tell something was amiss. There was no "shining" as it was called. Ryuichi looked grim, nearly sickly even. His eyes were dull and he hardly moved at all as he sang. The song was a grim one, depressing even, but a beautiful one, Eiri had to admit. But why dedicate a song like that to Shuichi? It wasn't like he was dead or anything.
With a last note from the violinist, the song ended and everyone clapped. Ryuichi only bowed his head and walked off. Damn, that was depressing. Had he suddenly stepped into the twilight zone?
The hostess was back on the screen, wiping her eyes with a white handkerchief. "Wow, that was beautiful. We asked Ryuichi-sama if he would mind an interview but he has turned it down. His manager has stated that he is still grieving over the death of Shuichi Shindou and will make no comment about the accident."
The world still spun, but Eiri suddenly stopped spinning with it. It had felt like he had suddenly just dropped out of his physical body and was falling into the black abyss of the universe and continued to fall.
They could not have said Shuichi. It was impossible. He had just seen Shuichi yesterday. He was not dead. Absurd.
The black and white photo of Shuichi suddenly popped up again. He was smiling widely, his eyes, though gray, were shining. Eiri remembered that picture. He was the one who had taken in on one of their dates. How did the media get a hold of it? And what kind of sick joke was it to use it for some rumor about his death when clearly, he wasn't dead.
The curly letters returned again.
R.I.P. Shindou Shuichi. We all miss you.
No.
No.
No!
NO!
This wasn't right! It was false, and he would prove it! The paparazzi were sick, sick people. This had to end now.
He dialed Shuichi's number again.
"Answer the phone."
"We're sorry, the number you have reached is..."
He hung up. Again.
"We're sorry..."
This isn't happening. He's okay. He's okay. He'll answer.
"We're sor..."
Now he knew why he had the anxiety medication. His heart seemed to be racing, his lungs felt like they were closing in and his entire body seemed to be shaking with wracked nerves. His vision was streaming, everything was blurry except for the buttons on the phone. He kept dialing, again and again. But still each time...
"We're sorry..."
"Answer the fucking phone, Shuichi!" Eiri yelled as he threw the device against the wall. He grabbed his hair, tugging at the blond locks. What the hell was going on? He wanted answers. He wanted answers now.
He picked up the phone again, seeing no damage, and dialed a different number than Shuichi's.
After two rings he answered.
"Hello?"
He must have recognized Eiri's number for him not to say "Seguchi speaking". "Tohma," Eiri said, gaining his composure, "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course, Eiri. What do you need?"
He took a deep breath. "Can you tell me where Shuichi is?"
Tohma didn't say anything. The seconds ticked by. He knew he was there because he could hear background noise.
"Eiri," Tohma said slowly, like he was speaking to a child, "Shuichi is in heaven."
"Don't give me that shit," Eiri cursed at him, "I want to know exactly where he is, dammit!"
"Eiri please, listen to me. Shuichi is dead. I'm sorry."
Lies. They were all lies. Shuichi was alive. He would come through that door, smiling and happy. He would talk about his day, talk about music and work, drive him insane with begging, and maybe today they would have sex, depending on the mood.
But why wouldn't Tohma just go ahead and say "April Fool's"?
"You're lying." Eiri stated bluntly.
"Eiri, you're in the denial stage..."
"I'm not in any goddamn denial stage! I've got nothing to be in denial of! Shuichi isn't dead!"
"Eiri! Shuichi's been dead for nearly a month now."
Tears. How long had it been since he has cried like this? How long before had his stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor along with his soul and spirit? What was going on?
"Eiri?"
The phone felt heavy in his hand, pressed to his ear. "No," he said softly, his voice on the verge of croaking from crying, "I just saw him yesterday..."
"No, Eiri, you didn't. I'm sorry."
"He can't be dead," he said, more to himself, "It's impossible. He can't be."
"Eiri, I'm sorry..."
He hung up. Not wanting to hear more. A month? An entire month Shuichi had been deceased? How could he not remember? Had it come as such a shock he had blocked it out from his memory? Was Shuichi really dead?
"Argh!" Eiri threw the phone again against the wall, this time pieces of plastic broke off and flew in different directions.
He then went over to the lamp, smashing it on the floor. He ripped the pictures off the wall, shattering them, too. Each time he screamed and cried, cried and screamed, venting out his frustration.
"Fuck you, Shuichi!" he yelled, "Come home! You're not dead, dammit!" He turned the couch over and then started tearing up the cushions. He kicked the TV off the stand, pulling out its cord.
With no more energy, he slumped to the floor. His shoulders sagged from all the extra weight gravity seemed to have put on him. Little droplets fell on the hardwood floor from his tears. He pressed his head against it, feeling its cool as he broke down and sobbed. Everything around him was broken. His lover was dead. And he had no memory.
Did he say he loved him? Were Shuichi's last nights one of his bests? Had he been happy?
How did he die?
Eiri didn't want to know. He just wanted to wake up from this horrid dream. He wanted this nightmare to end. But something in his brain told him it was real. Shuichi would never come home. He would never see Shuichi's bright smile except in faded pictures. He would never hear him call out "Yuki" except in his memory.
Yuki just laid there, in the fetal position. He wasn't even sure if he had fallen asleep or not; time seemed to slowing down. He could have been there for hours or just minutes. Who knows?
Eventually, after everything in him went numb, he pulled himself up. His house was dark now, since it was night and the lamps were broken. He shuffled his feet into the bedroom and fell against the mattress, the mattress Shuichi would never occupy. Not even bothering to change, he slipped under the covers on his side of the bed. He stared at Shuichi's favorite pillow. It had been a month since a strand of pink hair had touched the fabric. Shuichi would never occupy the space beside him. Eiri would never have to nudge him over ever again for taking too much room. He would never be uncomfortable on the cold nights when Shuichi snuggled against him.
Never again.
It wasn't that late, but he felt exhausted. There didn't seem to be any vibrant energy or hope in him after all. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep forever, just like Shuichi.
(A/N): Okay, this is based off the movie "Premonition" but I have never seen the movie before. This is something I just had pop in my head one day. Also, I had to use notepad for the document so sorry for the mistakes. I'll fix them when I get my computer back. Oh, and if I get good reviews (I love reading long ones and good ones :D) then I'll post the other chapters. There are about seven chapters. Well, hope you like. Ja ne:-)