Rainbow Dreams
folder
Gravitation › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
1,808
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gravitation › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
1,808
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
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.
White
They had a concert in about fifteen minutes. Two days ago, he had seen his Tohma buy flowers, and Noriko had told him that yesterday the blond had acted as if nothing were wrong. And there wasn’t, at least not for him, however bitter Ryuichi may feel. But once he’d understood that the singer was angry with him and unlikely to come out of it soon…well, then there was something very much wrong. Then he became haughty and closed off—still was, as a matter of fact.
Noriko kept glancing at them worriedly—she didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew something was. Ryuichi threw her a smile; she shouldn’t have to fret over something she couldn’t help anyway. Her expression didn’t change, her worries obviously not alleviated.
Finally, it was time for them to play and they filed out onstage. As the music started, the vocalist tried to push back his anger, his hurt; tried to just sing. But for the first time in a long time, for the first time he’d decided to go to America because the music wouldn’t come anymore, he couldn’t. The words came out, sounding perfect, and the pitch was right, never cracking or wavering…but the song was hollow. He was reminded of Shuichi, and how he’d given him advice; Shuichi was stronger than him, to have regained his voice despite the fact that his troubles hadn’t really been resolved. Or maybe Ryuichi was the strong one? He hadn’t lost his voice at all—though he may as well have, for how good it sounded.
But his wasn’t the only empty part. Tohma, the notes coming hard, almost viciously, even as it seemed his fingers were hesitating. Poor Nori-chan…she was the only one who was giving it her all. But she couldn’t harmonize two parts when the two parts didn’t even know themselves. What seemed like an eternity later they were finally done. They walked offstage, immediately swarmed with reporters shouting questions.
“Is something wrong?”
“There seemed to be something missing, can you tell us what it was?”
“Where is all the normal enthusiasm?”
The doors shut on the obnoxious voices, and before Ryuichi could retreat to his dressing room and cuddle Kuma-chan Noriko turned on them.
“You two! Whatever’s wrong, fix it! That’s an order!” She stormed off, leaving them alone. Reluctantly, Ryuichi met his keyboardist’s eyes.
Noriko kept glancing at them worriedly—she didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew something was. Ryuichi threw her a smile; she shouldn’t have to fret over something she couldn’t help anyway. Her expression didn’t change, her worries obviously not alleviated.
Finally, it was time for them to play and they filed out onstage. As the music started, the vocalist tried to push back his anger, his hurt; tried to just sing. But for the first time in a long time, for the first time he’d decided to go to America because the music wouldn’t come anymore, he couldn’t. The words came out, sounding perfect, and the pitch was right, never cracking or wavering…but the song was hollow. He was reminded of Shuichi, and how he’d given him advice; Shuichi was stronger than him, to have regained his voice despite the fact that his troubles hadn’t really been resolved. Or maybe Ryuichi was the strong one? He hadn’t lost his voice at all—though he may as well have, for how good it sounded.
But his wasn’t the only empty part. Tohma, the notes coming hard, almost viciously, even as it seemed his fingers were hesitating. Poor Nori-chan…she was the only one who was giving it her all. But she couldn’t harmonize two parts when the two parts didn’t even know themselves. What seemed like an eternity later they were finally done. They walked offstage, immediately swarmed with reporters shouting questions.
“Is something wrong?”
“There seemed to be something missing, can you tell us what it was?”
“Where is all the normal enthusiasm?”
The doors shut on the obnoxious voices, and before Ryuichi could retreat to his dressing room and cuddle Kuma-chan Noriko turned on them.
“You two! Whatever’s wrong, fix it! That’s an order!” She stormed off, leaving them alone. Reluctantly, Ryuichi met his keyboardist’s eyes.