On the Street of Dreams

Chapter summary: “What’s there to understand,” Eiri barked, taking a sip of his beer. “Men make babies. They do not have them.”
Inserts: “A Vision of Flames”, Mai Yamane (Mirage of Blaze opening theme song)

***

I Do Not Understand


Shuichi glanced at Tohma Seguchi across the table, still uncertain about the whole thing. “Are you sure?”

“I like it,” Hiro said with a nod.

“Hmm. I’m with Shuichi,” Suguru said. “I think it would be better if we came up with some new songs. We’ve been playing these ones for the past three years and I think they’ve been played out. Frankly, I’m sick of them. I wouldn’t care if I never played them again.”

Tohma nodded in understanding. He felt the same way about playing some of Nittle Grasper’s older tunes. They were far from where they wanted to be, or how they wanted to sound. They just did not represent what Nittle Grasper was or could be, but at the same time, it introduced them to the world and gained them their first legion of fans. It got their name out there. “Bad Luck has been an underground sensation since its debut three year ago,” Tohma told the boys. “But not everyone has heard of you, nor have they heard these songs. To most people it’ll be a sound from an awesome new band.”

Shuichi still was not sure.

Neither was the bands keyboardist. “I don’t know,” Suguru sighed, shaking his head.

“Trust me,” the blond CEO of NG Pro said, standing up. “Besides, you have the use of the best equipment in the world right here. We can rerecord the songs and remix them into a multi-platinum selling record.”

Shuichi’s eyes lit up. “You think we can achieve that?”

Tohma nodded. “I believe you can. You have the potential.”

The members of Bad Luck exchanged looks. Suguru saw the determination on his friends and band mates faces and gave in. “Alright,” he sighed. “Fine.”

“Good!” Tohma slapped his hand on the table. “We’ll go over all of your songs, change them as we feel necessary and then decide which ones will be put on the album. In the meantime, try to decide which ones should be released as singles.” He checked his watch. “Why don’t you head down to studio three and start? I’ll be there shortly. I have a little business that needs to be taken care of.” Grabbing his hat from the table, he plopped it on his head and left the conference room.

Shuichi grabbed his bag and raced after his boss, leaving Hiro and Suguru gaping after him in confusion. “Tohma,” he called as darted down the hall after him.

“Shuichi,” Tohma said as he paused in front of the elevator, the down button was lit. “What can I do for you?”

“Um. I was wondering if you knew of a band called ASK?”

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. Both men hopped into it. Tohma hit the L button. “Ask? Not really. Should I?”

Shuichi shook his head. “I guess not. It’s just that they claimed to have had a meeting with some top executives here at NG a couple weeks ago.” He shrugged.

“Hm.” The elevator pinged and the doors slid open to reveal a brightly lit lobby. The front of the building was one-sided plexi-glass one-way windows. You could see out but nobody could see in. A revolving door was flanked by ordinary doors on either side, all glass. “Who’s in this band?”

“Taki Aizawa, Ma-“

“Ah! Yes, them,” Tohma nodded as he headed across the lobby to the press room. “I didn’t sign them.”

Shuichi blinked in surprise. As much as he hated that bastard Taki, he had been to a few of their concerts and had to admit that ASK had a great sound. Not that he cared at all, for the last thing he wanted was to see that bastard Taki every single day, but…

“Why not? If you don’t mind me asking? I mean, they’re not my favorite people in the world. In fact, I hate Taki’s guts, but still, I think they have a good sound and have the potential to make it big. I think they could be something.”

Tohma nodded as they stood outside the buzzing press room. “I know. I thought the same thing, but there was something about them that turned me off.”

Shuichi nodded. That would have been Taki “I Do Everything That Moves” Aizawa.

“You said you hate Mr. Aizawa? That means you know him?”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

“May I ask how?”

“Uh…Mutual friend.” Close enough to the truth.

Tohma studied his young friend closely and nodded. “I see. Don’t worry.” He patted Shuichi’s shoulder, with a reassuring smile. “I’ll make sure Mr. Aizawa is not allowed on the premises.”

Shuichi smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. After the confrontation he had with the older singer last week, the last thing he wanted was another one. Especially if Eiri got wind of it. “Thank you.”

With a final pat and a smile, Tohma opened the door. What had been muffled before now blasted out into the lobby, causing Shuichi to wince. The president took a deep breath, plastered that false smile on his face and walked into the pressroom, the door shutting behind him.

Feeling elated that he would not have to worry about that psycho pervert while he was at work; Shuichi headed towards the bank of elevators and went back up the studio, whistling.

*

Shuichi yawned loudly. His eyes watered and his jaw popped.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hiro asked. He pulled the guitar strap over his head and placed the guitar in its stand. “It’s only six o’clock.”

“I, uh, was up late last night,” he admitted, blushing.

Hiro cocked an eyebrow in amusement. “Really? Care to share?”

Shuichi’s blush deepened and he shook his head as Hiro laughed.

“Alright, guys,” Tohma said as he entered the sound booth. “Let’s pack it in for the day.”

The members of Bad Luck breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” they muttered.

They had been at it all day and had surprisingly worked through three songs and a quarter way through a forth song. Before being signed to NG, the only way they had to work on their songs was an amateur music program that Shuichi used to compose the tunes. He would burn the song to a disk and hand it to Suguru who would fine-tune the arrangement. Now they had better instruments, thanks to Tohma, and access to a wider variety of sounds to tap into to get the full potential out of their songs.

Shuichi staggered out of the sound booth and flopped onto the couch with a yawn. Closing his eyes, he hung his head back and sprawled out on the couch.

“Here ya go, Shu,” came Hiro’s voice.

Opening his eyes, Shuichi caught his bag that Hiro tossed at him.

“Wanna go out?” the guitarist asked as he plopped down next to him.

Shuichi shook his head. “Can’t. I have plans.”

“Oh? Gotta hot date?”

Blushing, he nodded.

Chuckling, Hiro ruffled his friend’s hair. “Fine. Ditch me for your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Suguru repeated in shock. He turned to stare at his singer. “Since when?”

Shuichi looked at his watch and shot to his feet. “Hey, look at the time! I gotta go!”

“Hey! Shuichi,” Suguru called after the singer as he dashed out of the studio.

Tohma’s laughter followed the singer down the hall. The keyboardist walked of the sound booth and turned to look at the longhaired guitarist. “When did this happen? I wasn’t even aware Shuichi was into guys.”

Hiro shrugged. “No idea. That boy is full of surprises.”

“Who’s he seeing?” Suguru asked, sitting down next to him. “Do you know?”

A picture of the blond haired man from Friday flashed through his head. “I’m not sure.” Hiro scratched his head. “I saw him once, but it was at a distance. I didn’t get a good look at him.”

“Why is he keeping him a secret? Is he afraid of what we’d think, or something?”

Hiro did not have an answer to that. It confused him as well.

“I mean, I can understand wanting to keep something for him, something separate from the band, but still! He could have at least told him about this guy. Ya know? Like, what’s his name, what does he do…that sort of thing. It makes me wonder.”

Suguru had a point. What was Shuichi hiding?

“Speaking of dates,” Tohma said, breaking into their thoughts, “have to meet my wife at the doctor’s. Until the morning, boys.”

“And then there were two,” Hiro said as the producer left the studio. “So, Suguru,” he slapped the boy’s leg, “whattaya say?”

Suguru blinked, still dumbfounded. “I still can’t believe that Shuichi has a boyfriend.”

Chuckling, Hiro stood and dragged his friend out of the studio. “C’mon, let’s go.”

*

Tohma pulled out of the underground garage, looked for a break in traffic and pulled into the early evening rush. As he passed the front of the building, he caught sight of his pink haired pop star standing out on the sidewalk. He slowed down, curious. Rolling down the window, he was about to call out to the boy when a sleek black Mercedes Benz pulled up in front of the record building. The windows were tinted, making it impossible to see who the driver was. As Tohma watched, Shuichi, a huge grin on his face and bouncing with unbridled energy, shouldered his bag and hopped into the car. The car pulled away from the curb with a loud squeal. Tohma stared after the car. He knew there were a few of these foreign cars around Japan, but he could not help but wonder if that was not his brother-in-law.

*

As soon as Shuichi was in the car, Eiri pulled him into his arms and kissed him deeply and thoroughly. He revealed in the comforting warmth of the pink haired singer’s arms. “Hmm,” he hummed, pulling away with much difficulty. “I’ve been dying to do that all weekend.”

Flushed and his eyes gleaming with lust, Shuichi blushed.

Checking the rear view mirror, Eiri shot into traffic with suck force it flung Shuichi back in the seat.

“So, how was your trip to Tokyo?” Shuichi asked as he put his seatbelt on. When Eiri sneered, Shuichi chuckled. “That good, huh?”

“Hn. Better than going to that damned family dinner, though.”

“Tatsuha was complaining about it, too. He said he’d rather be forced into marrying some chick than go to that damned temple for a family dinner.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Eiri snorted.

“So, he brought Ryu with him.”

As he braked at a red light, Eiri choked. He turned a stunned face towards the boy. “He what?”

“Yep,” Shuichi nodded with a smile. His eyes sparkled in amusement. “Tatsu said that your father was against him seeing Ryu?”

Eiri snorted. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered.

“But Tatsu argued that it was a family dinner and said him and Ryu are married, just not legally.” Shuichi shrugged. That was actually true and not something made up to piss off Tatsuha’s old man, though it had done just that. Tatsuha and Ryuichi had had a civil union in their apartment a few years ago with only very close friends and family present. “So, he brought him with him to dinner.”

“He probably did it just to piss off the old man.”

Shuichi giggled. “You guys hate him that much, huh?”

Eiri snorted.

Giggling again, Shuichi settled down in the seat and flicked on the radio, flying through the channels so fast, Eiri was not sure how he could tell what was on. “Tatsu said your father was pissed, but said you were right.” He glanced at the older man in innocent curiosity. “What did he mean by that?”

Eiri sighed and sped around the corner when the light changed. “My father has been trying to get me to settle down and get married.” He rolled his eyes. “He wants heirs.”

Shuichi snorted, shaking his head. “What’s Mika? Chopped liver?”

“That’s what I said.” Eiri sighed. “My sister did get pregnant a few years back, but had a miscarriage. They’ve been trying ever since to have another child, but it’s no good.”

“Why doesn’t she go to the doctor?”

Eiri shrugged. “She’s afraid, I guess.”

Shuichi nodded sadly. That was understandable. He would hate to be in her shoes. “Anyway, Tatsu said that there was a young girl there about my age.” He scratched his head. “I forgot what he said her name was, but apparently your father and her father had made some sort of arrangement.”

“Son of a bitch doesn’t know when to give up,” Eiri hissed. He clenched the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

“He said she was nice and very pretty,” Shuichi said quietly, staring out the window. He could not blame the man if he decided to go through with this marriage. He was a guy after all, yes, he could give Eiri’s father an heir, just like that girl could, but…

Eiri glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye. “You’re an idiot.”

Shuichi blinked at him in surprise. “Why?”

“I don’t plan on marrying a chick just because my old man thinks it’s a good idea. If he wants an heir, he can marry her himself and produce his own.”

Despite himself, Shuichi giggled. “Good, because there’s no way I’m sharing you. Oh,” he exclaimed suddenly. “I love this song,” Shuichi cried. Reaching for the knob that controlled the volume, he twisted it, blasting the song at ear shattering levels.

Eiri winched. Could he not listen to music at a decent volume? Why did he feel the urge to make them all deaf? When he heard his young lover’s beautifully magical voice singing along perfectly with the English lyrics, he watched him out of the corner of his eye as he wound his way through the almost bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic.

Can’t hold this feeling no more.
Just can’t pretend to care for.
Half-hearted trips out to grab and hit the score.
I’ve come to see the light.
We’re destined to ignite.
Long as we live everyone has got the right.
Wake up your inner child.
Wake up your tender branches.
We’ve been…
We’ll always be…
Here to stay and breathe forevermore.
Blazing away to be free.
The reins of power that live inside.
Believe in visions of flames and dream.
The sweetest dream testifies.
Blazing away to be free.
The heat that burns inside.
Believe in visions of flames and see…
…what lies beneath them all
…beneath them all.

Shuichi turned the volume back down when the song ended and commercials came on.

“I didn’t know you knew English,” Eiri said.

“Yep, it’s the only thing I passed in school besides P.E. and music.”

“Really?”

“Ryu told me that when he made it big he’d take me with him on tour, but on one condition. I had to learn English. He said it’s pretty much the universal language and if I ever wanted Bad Luck to achieve world wide fame, it would become a necessity in order to speak with my fans and stuff.”

“True. You’re brother’s pretty smart.”

Shuichi snorted. “Yeah, right. He’s so smart he can’t read kanji.”

Eiri blinked. “What?” He glanced at the pink haired singer. “Are you serious? Ryuichi Sakuma can’t read kanji?”

“Nope.”

“Unbelievable,” the writer snorted. “I take it back. You’re brother’s an idiot.”

Shuichi giggled.

“So, did you ever go out on tour with him?”

“Well,” Shuichi answered, scratching his head. “Not really. I mean, a while back he flew me out to see him perform in New York.” His whole face lit with a smile. “That was pretty cool!”

Eiri glanced at his briefly in shock as he parallel parked in front of a small deli café. “You’ve been to the US?”

“Yep,” Shuichi smiled, nodding. “Have you ever been there?” he asked innocently, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Several times,” Eiri said as he got out of the car.

“Really? Cool! Why?”

“A couple of my books have been translated into English and I’ve had to travel around the States to promote them,” he answered as they stepped into the nearly full café. Eiri glanced around and found a seat in the far back corner away from prying eyes. He grabbed Shuichi’s hand and led him towards the booth. He was not so much as trying to hide Shuichi, a minor, as to hide that he, Eiri Yuki, was here eating dinner in the middle of the dinner rush.

Shuichi flushed as he felt Eiri’s warm hand envelope his. He glanced shyly at their linked hands and then at Eiri.

Sliding into the booth, both men picked up a menu from the round metal holder in the middle of the table, trying to decide what to order, returning them when they decided what they wanted.

When the server finally sauntered over, both men order a bento box. While Eiri ordered a beer, Shuichi ordered juice. The last thing he wanted was to get plastered. He remembered what happened the last time he got drunk and he did not intend to ever repeat that episode.

However, at the same time, he knew he had to tell Eiri the truth eventually.

Shuichi laced his fingers on the tabletop and twiddled his thumbs.

The longer he said nothing, the more difficult it was going to become. The angrier Eiri would be once he realized the one person he thought he could trust was the one person he could not. Shuichi was not sure if he could say anything. He was scared. He was not sure if he could take the risk that Eiri might leave him once he learns the truth, but was it not better for Eiri to hear the truth from him rather than to hear it from someone else? Shuichi shook his head. Who would tell…Shuichi gasped. Taki! Dammit all to hell! Knowing that bastard, he would do something that sneaky and rotten.

Sighing heavily, Shuichi ran his fingers through his hair. He had never found it more difficult to start up a conversation in his life. For once, he wanted to remain silent. “Eiri,” he called softly.

“Hm?”

The singer stared at his laced fingers, avoiding his lover’s golden gaze. He could feel the sweat already starting to form. His hands had a fine trembling to them. “I, uhm…What, uhm-“

“Here you guys are,” came a female voice.

Shuichi leaned back as their server set their drinks down in front of them. She reached inside her apron and produced a straw for Shuichi. “Thanks,” they both told the woman.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled.

Shuichi watched her go and caught sight of a man walking up to the cash register. Another man slid out of the booth to follow him and Shuichi found himself smiling as he watched the man with a beach ball under his shirt waddle across the café. Either that guy was having twins or he was just about to pop.

“Disgusting,” came a muttered sneer.

“Huh?” Shuichi turned and looked at Eiri across the table. “What is?”

Eiri jerked his head. “Them. People like them should not exist,” he scoffed

Shuichi followed the writer’s gaze and felt the floor disappear beneath him, spilling him into an endless void of black nothingness. “What?” Shuichi breathed in disbelief. Please, God, let him have heard him wrong! He watched as the door shut behind the pair then turned a pale face back to the blond man. “Y-you don’t really mean…How can you say something like that?” He felt numb. He could not believe he was hearing this from his beloved Eiri!

“Easily. It’s true.”

“Eiri. H-how can you…I mean…” Shuichi sat back in the padded seat, zapped of energy, with a shocked huff. “I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“What’s there to understand,” Eiri barked, taking a sip of his beer. “Men make babies. They do not have them.”

Shuichi’s world shattered around him. He watched through tear-blurred vision as the pregnant man’s partner helped him into the front seat of their car before getting in on the other side and driving away. Shuichi felt his throat constrict over threatening sobs. His chest tightened and he felt a sharp pain in his heart. He had wanted to find out how Eiri felt about neutrals and now he knew. He just wished he had remained ignorant.

*

Eiri glanced at his pale and teary-eyed lover out of the corner of his eye an hour later. “Are you sure you’re alright?” All through dinner, the kid had been very subdued and not his usual bouncy, energetic self. He wondered if he was all right.

“Fine,” Shuichi whispered. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself and curled into the door, as far away from Eiri as he could get without falling out of the car. “Drop me off at Ryu’s.”

“Why? I thought you were going to-“

“Please, Eiri,” Shuichi sobbed silently. His eyes filled with water once again. “Just…please,” he continued, his voice wavering.

“Alright.”

The rest of the ride to their brother’s apartment was silent. It was an uncomfortable and strained silence. It rested upon the occupants heavily, like a physical weight. Eiri could sense the tension and the distance that had somehow sprung up between them. Even though he was not sure why or how, he somehow knew that it was because of something he did. He wanted nothing more then to pull the car over and shake the truth out of the boy, but instead he said nothing.

Eiri pulled up in front of one of the most prestigious and exclusive apartment buildings in Kyoto several long and agonizing moments later.

“Thanks for dinner,” Shuichi muttered as he undid he seat belt and climbed out of the car. He slammed the car door behind him before Eiri could say anything.

Once again, the blond writer did nothing. He watched his young lover vanish through the front door, feeling a heaviness dragging him down. A bolt of pain shot through his heart. Mysteriously, as he peeled away from the curb and steered into traffic, his eyes blurred and he chocked back a sob. Why did he feel as if the world had suddenly flipped upside down?

***