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Sorry (Revised&Edited)	By : Chocho Category: Gravitation > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1425 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sorry (Revised&Edited)
- 2-one
- 3-two
- 4-three
- 5-four
- 6-five
- 7-six
- 8-seven
- 9-eight
- 10-nine
- 11-ten
- 12-eleven
- 13-twelve
- 14-thirteen
- 15-fourteen
- 16-fifteen
- 17-epilogue
- 5
- 6
- 7
Sorry

Written by: chochowilliams

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it.� I do not make any money from the writing of
this story.

Summary: AU.�
He ran from Shuichi once.� Will he
take this second chance or let his past keep him from true happiness?� Ryuichi/Shuichi, Shuichi/Eiri

Chapter summary:� After the concert, Shuichi goes missing.� When Daisuke finally tracks down the singer,
he is in for a surprise.

Warning: AU, Angst, drama, romance, language,
m/m sexual content, Ryuichi/Shuichi, Shuichi/Eiri

Inserts:�

A/N:�
Thank you to lilgurlanima and pikeebo for you constant support.� Thank
you to the everybody else who tuned in and put me on their alert list.

+---+---+---+

Chapter 5

The door to the
dressing room clicked open and a strikingly handsome man stuck his head inside.

Hiro's hands
stilled.� Raising his head, he parted the
towel he was using to dry his hair like a curtain and studied Bad Luck's
manager, Daisuke Miki, as the man searched the room with a frown.

Daisuke was just
as tall as Hiro, but more toothpick thin than Shuichi.� It was almost inhuman how skinny the man
was.� When he turned sideways, he
vanished.� His colored platinum blond
hair fell in lush waves down past his shoulders and instead of wearing glasses,
he wore supernatural ice blue colored contacts.�
The thirty-something manager always wore expensive designer suits, but
rarely a tie.� He also never wore socks
unless it was absolutely necessary.

�What's up Dai?�
Hiro questioned

Daisuke's eyes
flitted to the guitarist.� �Shuichi's not
here?�� He was starting to get
worried.� �I can't find him and the van's
here.�

�No,� now that he
thought about it, �I haven't seen him since the concert ended.�� He frowned in contemplation

�Damn,� Daisuke
muttered.� �Where could that boy have run
off to?�

Hiro shrugged as
he returned to drying his hair.� He
really was not too worried about his friend.�
�I'm sure he's around here somewhere.�
He probably found a quiet corner and fell asleep.� He was looking kinda pale by the end of the
show.�

Daisuke gnawed his
bottom lip.� �Yeah, I suppose.�

�What're you
talking about?� asked a sudden voice from behind Hiro.

Hiro looked over
his shoulder and spied the youngest member of the band.� Suguru was dressed in a white undershirt and
a pair of green boxer shorts.� His hair
was damp and he had a towel draped around his shoulders.� Hiro stepped aside and allowed the young
keyboardist to enter the dressing room.�
�We can't find Shu.� You haven't
seen him have you?�

�Yeah, I'm getting
a little worried.�

�Why?� He was fine when I saw him,� he said as he
walked across the room towards his dressing area.

Hiro and Daisuke
snapped to attention.

�You saw him?��

�Where?��

�Why didn't you
say so?�

Suguru looked from
one man to the other, blinking in confusion.�
�I saw him in the Green Room,� he said matter-of-factly.� What were they so worked up about?

�The Green Room?�
Daisuke repeated.

�Yeah,� Suguru drawled
slowly.

�Thanks.�� With a nod, Daisuke vanished out into the
hall, closing the door behind him.

Suguru blinked,
still confused.� �What was that all
about?� he asked, pulling out his jeans.

�Van's here,� Hiro
said as he tossed his towel on the couch.

�What?!� Suguru
cried.� �Why the hell didn't you say
so?�� Cursing, he jumped into his tan
khakis and hopped up and down as he tried to pull them up.� In his haste, the young keyboardist stepped
on the hem of his pants.� With a sudden
cry, he lost his balance.� Flailing his
arms in perfect imitation of a windmill, Suguru toppled over, banging his chin
and smashing his nose on the floor of the dressing room.

At the commotion,
Hiro- in the midst of pulling a loose white t-shirt over his head- glanced
curiously over his shoulder.� At the
sight of his friend and fellow band mate splayed out flat on the floor, his
pants around his ankles, he burst out laughing.

Suguru raised his
head and threw Hiro an evil look.� �Not funny,�
he snapped in annoyance, his face burning in embarrassment.

Hiro tried in vain
to choke back his laughter.� �Yo,
Ethan!� Kevin!� he called loudly over the
thunderous roar of the shower as he watched Suguru struggle to his feet.

�Yeah?� Ethan shouted
back.

�Van�s here!�

�Shit!� Kevin
cried.

�Son of a bitch,�
Ethan cursed.

For as much of a
primadonna as Shuichi could be, sometimes Ethan and Kevin could be even
pricklier about their appearance.�

He watched in
growing amusement as like a python subduing its prey, Suguru�s slacks become
entangled in his legs.� Hiro threw his
head and roared with laughter as with a yelp, the young keyboardist fell
forward, smacking his face once more against the floor.�

+---+---+

The Green Room,
huh?� He had not thought to look
there.� It should have been the first
place he looked after the hellish month Shuichi has had; it made sense for him
to be hiding out there.

Soundproof, the
Green Room was the perfect place for entertainers to relax and unwind after a
performance.� It was also where they went
before they went on so they could clear their minds and gear up for their act.

Hiro was
right.� By the end of the second encore,
Shuichi had looked somewhat pale.� He had
not looked good at all.

Two other bands
had gone on before Bad Luck.� Both had
been well liked and received, but Bad Luck had stolen the show once again.� They did several encores, making their
performance twice as long as usual.� With
Bad Luck doing a concert every other day and Shuichi�s schedule jam packed with
interviews, personal appearances, autograph sessions and photo shoots the rest
of the time, coupled with all the stress of that no good husband of his,
Daisuke could not blame Shuichi for wanting to disappear for a little bit.

He turned the corner deep in thought and smacked
into a small, hard wall.� Cursing, he
stumbled backwards, trying to regain his composure and looked up to see Mizuta
Shinichiro.� He was Shuichi's personal
assistant and translator for the anime convention tour.� Shinichiro was a quiet, mousey man, but he
excelled at his job and kept Shuichi on time and on schedule.� It was a wonder nobody thought of this
before.� Shinichiro was a little taller
than Shuichi and about a year older.� His
style was having an identity crisis at the moment.� He was half-gothic and half punk.� Neither matched his genius IQ, but as long as
he did his job, Daisuke could care less.

Rubbing his head, Shinichiro was muttering, �Ow!�
under his breath.

�Mr. Mizuta, are you alright?� Daisuke asked.

Shinichiro's chocolate brown eyes popped open,
gasping.� �I'm so sorry, Mr. Miki, Sir!�
the young man apologized bowing, repeatedly.�
�I was not watching where I was going!�

Daisuke shook his head, waving the apology
aside.� �Don't worry about it,� he said
with a little laugh.� The boy was a
riot.� He acted as if every wrong move
was a death sentence, but then again looking at who Bad Luck's manager was, he
was not so surprised at Shinichiro's behavior.

�Yes, Sir,� Shinichiro said with a final bow.

�Say, Mr. Mizuta.�

�Yes, Sir.�

�You haven't seen Shuichi have you?�

�Mr. Shindou?�

�Yeah, the van's here to take the guys back to the
hotel and I can't seem to find him.�

�Oh, well, he's in the Green room.�

Daisuke nodded.�
�Alright.� Thanks.�� So, he was
in there.

�Sir,� Shinichiro nodded.� With a bow, he stepped around Daisuke and
walked briskly down the hall like his pants were on fire.

Daisuke watched him vanish
around a corner in amusement.� That boy
could speak to hundreds of people as he translated what Shuichi was saying from
Japanese into English, but when it came to the �higher authorities�, he freaked
out.� Go figure.� Chuckling, he shook his head as he picked his way through the bustling halls of the backstage
area at the arena until he found himself outside the closed Green Room door and
listened carefully.� He could not hear
anything from within.� Reaching for the
doorknob, he found the door unlocked.�
Turning the knob slowly, he silently pushed it open and peered
inside.� The lights were off, but a small
display light in the far corner of the room was casting alternating colored
light onto the walls and ceiling.

He had no idea why
it was called a Green Room when the only things green in it were the plants
that littered the room.� The floor was
carpeted in a light dusty rose that your feet just sank right into.� The couches were like giant balls of
cotton.� They were so soft and
comfortable that once you sat down, it was very hard to get back up.� The walls were soft beige with framed
autographed photos and other memorabilia from those that had passed through the
theater in years passed.

As his eyes roamed
over the room, they landed on his singer curled up on one of the couches, his
mouth slightly ajar and an arm flung over the side of the couch.� A smile flittered over Daisuke�s lips as he
took in the soft, peaceful expression on the man�s sleeping face.� Shuichi�s chest rose and fell slowly.� Soft, heavy breathing filled the quiet
room.� He looked like a child when he was
sleeping, as if he had no cares in the world.�
All the stress and turmoil the singer put up with on a daily basis
vanished when he closed his eyes.

He looked like an
angel.

Daisuke studied
the sleeping singer.� It was clear he had
come straight here from the stage.� He
was still wearing the outfit he had changed into for the encore, which
consisted of black Capri's with zippers, pockets and straps covering every
inch, two spiked belts, suspenders hanging around his hips and a black
sleeveless shirt, his clunky knee high boots and the remnants of his makeup and
body glitter.

Shoving the door
open a little more, Daisuke crossed the room towards him, his footsteps muffled
by the carpet.� As he drew closer, his
smile folded into a frown.� He stopped
besides the couch and bending over, reached out with his hand to brush aside a
lock of the singer's hair.

�Oh, Shuichi,�
Daisuke whispered.� He felt his heart
breaking.

Where Shuichi
looked angelic when he was sleeping, on closer inspection, this angel was pale
and drawn. �There were dark circles and
bags under his eyes.� Tiny paths had been
cut into the thick layers of makeup on his face.� He had been crying.

Straightening, he
took a step back.

�Wha-?�

He lifted his foot
and stepped to the side as he felt something small and hard underneath his
foot.� Glancing down, he squinted through
the darkness and saw something glinting in the dim light.� Curious, he bent over and picked it up.� It was a man's silver wedding band.� Daisuke blinked as he straightened.� He glanced from the plain band to Shuichi and
then to the singer�s cupped hand hanging over the edge of the sofa.� Was it his?�
If it was, why was it on the floor?�
As he fingered the smooth band, he frowned.� Holding the ring up, he squinted through the
darkness, trying to see the inside of the band, but it was too dark to see
clearly.� He crossed the room to the only
source of light.� Again, he held the ring
out and peered inside.

�'Forever�Yours�Forever�Mine',�
he read aloud.

Daisuke turned and
glanced at his singer.� Then down at the
ring in his open hand.� It was Shuichi�s wedding ring.� He fisted his hand around the band, feeling
it bite into his palm.� He hated knowing
that Shuichi was suffering.� He wished he
could do something to help him, but he was not sure if there was anything he could do.

Damn.� This was his entire fault.

Daisuke crouched
by Shuichi's head as the younger man slept the sleep of the dead.� A gentle smile softened his features as he
watched his singer snore softly.�
Reaching out a hand tentatively, he lightly brushed a lock of dark
burgundy hair back behind Shuichi's ear.�
Drawing his hand away, he ran his knuckles gently across Shuichi's damp
cheek.

As he continued to
watch Shuichi sleep peacefully, his chest rising and falling gently, he could
not help but think how beautiful Shuichi was, despite his gothic attire, the
sweat drying on his olive complexion, him smelling like BO, the makeup aisle on
his face and the exhaustion lining his perfect, angelic face.� Daisuke felt his pulse start racing and a
blush flushed across his face as he continued to watch the singer sleep.� Daisuke licked suddenly dry lips.� Shuichi really was incredibly beautiful.

Sighing heavily,
he sat back.

That was why his
guilt was killing him.� If it were not
for him, then none of this would be happening because he was the one who had
introduced Ryuichi to Tatsuha.� Not
knowing it would become as major a scandal as it has was not an excuse because
the fact remained that Shuichi was suffering because of him.

Daisuke was not
stupid.� He knew why Ryuichi Sakuma had
not returned any of his husband�s phone calls.�
He knew why Tohma Seguchi had not called Shuichi back.� All you had to do was look at Ryuichi's
history and it did not take a genius to figure out what was going on.� Daisuke was not sure who else suspected the
relapse- for Daisuke was positive there was one- but as he gazed from the ring
to Shuichi�s pale, drawn, tear streaked face and thought back to the fit Shuichi
had at the hotel yesterday, he realized guiltily that he had his answer.

Shuichi�s
breathing rhythm changed.� Flipping onto
his back, Shuichi rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and gave a loud yawn.� Daisuke suppressed a laugh, but could not
stop a smile from spreading across his face.�
As Shuichi stretched, his lithe body elongating, his shirt rode up,
revealing his flat, tiny waist.�

Daisuke's
breathing hitched.� He tore his gaze away
from the singer with much difficulty as a deep blush colored his cheeks.

Sighing, Shuichi
settled back onto the couch, running his fingers under his eyes, remembering
too late that he was still wearing makeup.�
He glanced at his fingers, now smeared black.� Rubbing his fingers together, he glanced up
and jumped, swallowing a yelp.

�Wakey, wakey,
Sleeping Beauty,� Daisuke chuckled with a wide smile.

Exhaling noisily,
Shuichi glared at Daisuke as he tired to slow his racing heart.� With a hand over his racing heart, he pushed
himself up and swung his legs over the side of the couch.� Yawning again, he scrubbed his hands over his
face, not caring if he spoiled his already messed up makeup.� When he dropped his hands and opened his
eyes, he blinked and pulled his head back with a frown.� He lifted his eyes from the band lying on
Daisuke's hand to look at Daisuke.�
�What's this?�

�Your ring.�

�My�?� Oh.��
Shuichi�s face dropped.

Daisuke studied
him closely.� �It was on the floor.�

�Thanks,� the
singer mumbled.� Reaching out, he snatched
the ring back and stared blankly at it as it lay in his hand.

�Are you okay?�
Daisuke asked cautiously.

�Yeah,� Shuichi told him distractedly.� Closing his hand over the wedding band, he
said unconvincingly, �Fine.�

---TBC---

Preview:� Eiri�s taunting snaps
Ryuichi out of his guilt laced depression.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Sorry (Revised&Edited)