A modern day tragedy

A modern day tragedy

Disclaimer: I don’t own it.
Author’s note: This is a product of too much caffeine and not enough sleep. Cookies to anyone who can guess what the myth is, and who the characters represent. Granted it’s loosely based on the particular myth, but you should be able to figure it out. :3

Warnings: Angst, character death, OOC, light shounen-ai, mentions of rape, naughty words, naughty thoughts, and one odd author. This was not meant to be a happy fiction, for reasons unsaid it has to be set up this way for it to work. So, please, read on and let me know what you think. And, remember reviews are ALWAYS welcome.
Type: One shot Alternate Universe.
Rating: Mature, to NC-17.


Things have been going so well lately, Shuichi thought that maybe once in his young life things will turn, and stay, for the better. Smiling to himself, recalling yesterday, running his lover’s words over and over in his mind. “Yuki actually told the press we were lover’s, and that we resided together. I still can’t believe it,” he whispered to himself, as he climbed the stairs to THEIR shared apartment. Not even a broken elevator could dim his spirits.

Entering the key into the lock, his key, the realization still hasn’t set in. After the problems the two had worked so hard to get by, this seems like a false reality. Some place deep inside, the boy mentally prepares himself for a pile of stuff waiting by the door, and a pissed off lover spewing hateful words.

A rush of silenced breath escapes, as he notes that everything’s in order. Calling out to his missing half, “Yuki? Yuki are you home?” A warped version of his voice echoes back, answering his question. “Another long night alone,” he states sadly. Lately the author has been gone a lot. Dead lines, signings, editors, or some form of distraction has kept the novelist busy.

Walking quietly to the bedroom, stripping out of clothing with every step, leaving a trail behind him. Grinning at the line of clothing, he laughs, “Oh, Yuki if you were home, I’d never hear the end of this.” It’s a well known fact, and topic of argument between the two, that Yuki Eiri is a neat freak to the extreme. Whether it be in personal space or his person, the man is a total spazz about it. One would wonder what the happy medium is between the two lovers? Shindou Shuichi, worlds largest piggy verses Yuki Eiri, worlds biggest neat freak. That, I am afraid, is a taboo of conversation.

Naked as the day he was born, the pink haired hyper machine flicks on the CD player. Soft haunted melodies float eerily through the bedroom. A pale lithe body, in the darkness, moves unconsciously to the music. With every rise of the singers sad voice, his body responds with small hands running the length of his nude body. With every low note, he turns and flows to the floor. This has become a ritual of sorts lately. When ever the vocalist is left alone, he perfects his own personal dance. In hopes that one day he will find the nerve to perform it for his lover.

The song’s closing notes and hushed lyrics, brings the dancer to an end as well. Vision lost, thoughts over rode of his beautiful lover, he pants heavily falling to the floor with the last key of the piano. Down on all fours, sweet soaked and hard, he pulls up. Staring into space, locking eyes with the apparition of Yuki, fingers tickle their way down his heaving chest. Walking a bee lined path to the center of his wanting, he grabs velvet steel and begins his payment. Pulling and pleasing his hard length, pretending to be watched by his lover, the mental imagery is too much to bare. Thrusting in to the palm, he reaches up to tangle his free hand in pink locks. Pulling hard from both sources, he cries out in completion, “YUKI!” It’s always Yuki, and forever will be Yuki.

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The idle chatter and pointless drabble wear deeply on the blond writer. Having been pent up in the conference room for the past four hours, listening to the panel of editors rip his book apart and then desperately try to convince him to keep it that way, weighs heavily on him. Subconsciously running a finger along the half pack of cigarettes in the trouser pocket, unable to recall the last time he had a smoke. Three maybe three and half hours ago? Way too long for his liking.

“I say we keep the ending the way it was originally written!” the dark hair woman in the corner speaks up. Mrs. Sarikati, I think her name is. Finally someone with half a brain in their head.

“No, it’s just not fitting. The heroine can not die at the end of her book. It’s an over load of angst, and just not what the readers will enjoy,” the heavy set, sweating man retorts.

“Who are you to decide what the readers want. They know full well what they buy, and in buying a Yuki Eiri novel angst is a focal point to the novel! That’s what makes the book unique. I am telling you right now, if you attempt to rewrite the ending you are making a mistake,” Sarikati argues her point, and a very good point indeed.

Having been cooped up, perspiring all evening, the heavy man is shaking in anger at the woman who dares to fight him on this. Wrinkling his nose as the thought of how badly the man must smell, Yuki, after an hour of just listening to them duke it out, speaks up. “The ending will remain the same.” Seeing the team of editors tense up, he quickly stands and adds the last of his statement. “Either it stays on it’s original format, or I will take to another publishing company.” Smiling vindictively at his little stunt, he sarcastically calls on his way out, “I am the hottest writer in Japan, there are numerous publishers that would do back flips at the chance to sign me. So if I take my book else where it’s not my problem, it’s yours.” The collective gasps and a wooden door slamming home were the backdrop to his exit.

Striding, at a too quick to be polite pace, the novelist pushes open the glass door to his prison. Inhaling the crisp night air, he looks down at the wrist watch. “Damn, is it really that late?” he asks the watch, it’s only reply is the midnight time it read before.

Grumbling about the late hour, halfheartedly wondering if Shuichi is worried about him, he lights up a cigarette. Pulling as much tobacco as humanly possible into his lungs, a shaky contented sigh breathes past the cancer stick. “Now this just might be haven,” he whispers to himself. Approaching the gleaming black Mercedes, a shrill beep echoes in the parking garage as the locks release. Opening the drivers side door, his thoughts wondering on just what exactly he is going to do to his pink haired brat when he gets home, Yuki never heard the silent predator.

“Yuki Eiri, may I have a word with you?” the sinful sounding voice slurs from behind.

Startled at the phantom voice, the writer jumps and turns to see the face behind that alluring tone. Sharpe amber eyes attempt to focus in the dark. “What do you want?” he asks the dark silhouette in a deep, ‘I take no shit from anyone’ tone.

“You have taken something that I want,” the stranger speaks, stepping into the flood of light surrounding the blond man. “I do not like to be denied what I want,” he hisses, leather clad legs are visible now. “I have never been denied,” an expanse of a nude tan abdomen, followed by dark gloved hands. “Not in all eternity have I been denied,” the words warped, slither through his mouth. Taking that last step into full light, causing the writer to gasp. Standing before him is a fallen angel for sure, chestnut hair frames his angelically demonic face, deep blue eyes pierce his soul, and the most sinfully painted red lips.

Closing the distance between them completely, the fallen angel reaches up to caress the blonds face and removes the cigarette from his lips. Leaning in close, in an almost innocent manner he brushes those crimson lips against his own, the hunter breathes, “Until you.” A leather gloved hand finds it’s way to Yuki’s neck, casually stoking it, he hisses once more, “Until you denied me my pleasure.”

Drowning in a sea of emotions not found within a human vassal, the prey never felt the viper’s strike. Mesmerized by the serpent’s stare, the venomous needle hits it’s mark, pulsing a lethal dose directly into the bloodstream. His mouth opens, gasping in vain for the air that won’t pass, he mouths to the monster before him, “Why…Ryuichi?”

Pulling the struggling prey closer to his cold body, the viper laughs darkly, “Because, I was denied.” His prey’s last breath hitched as death sets upon him, the hunter drops the body callously to the ground. Slithering away without a look back, he wants to claim what is rightfully his. “I will no longer be denied,” were the last words heard to the dying Yuki Eiri.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slipping from the shower, Shuichi towel dries the disarrayed pink mop called hair. Looking at his reflection in the full length mirror, he sighs. His body is maturing nicely, but still teetering on the cusp of adulthood. Turning around fully, he blushes deeply. Fading bruises can be faintly seen across his back, a shocking reminder to whom he belongs too. Wrapping a fluffy white towel around his slim hips, the singer walks back to the bedroom.

He notices two things immediately, one Yuki’s still not home and the other is the time. The red numbers of the alarm clock red twelve nineteen in the morning. Sighing, he un-tucks the blankets on his side of the bed. Dropping the towel where it falls, climbing into the empty bed, Shuichi tries to sleep. Nights without his lover by his side are long, and sleep if it comes is always broken.

Darkness surrounds him, while arms hold him down. A tongue slimes it’s way along his chin, a threatening voice tells him to cooperate or else. Or else what, he wonders. ‘What else could the possibly do to me now?’ His pants are ripped from him, as a heavily fetid body drapes harshly on top of him. “I want you to scream for me little whore,” hot breath threatens to bring vile to the surface.

His prized pink hair is being pulled back, his body having no other option but to follow. The cement floor cuts the skin on his exposed knees, as a severe wave of nausea hits. The garage disappears as the boy finds a happy place within his mind.

Hands pull at the flimsy shirt, fumbling soon turns into tearing when it takes too long. “Yes, you are quite the attractive whore aren’t you?” another pets him like some kind of animal.

“Do take care not to damage him to severely, there would be hell to pay if he his broken beyond recognition,” a familiar voice sounds. ‘Aizawa…Taki Aizawa, this is all his fault,’ the boy thinks to himself. Anger begins to finally well up within him, he swallow the scream as the man penetrates. He will not give them the pleasure of screaming, but the silent tears that leak out can not be denied.

“AHHHHH,” Shuichi screams, sweat soaked and shaking violently. Arms flail every direction causing the already rumpled sheets to tangle around his limbs, hyperventilating at not being able to move. “YUKI!” he cries, tears falling rapidly down his cheeks. He is stuck in a state of in-betweens, not fully awake yet not asleep either. Dreams meld with reality, and the one truth realized on both levels is the missing Yuki.

“SHUICHI!” a panicked voice calls from outside the door. With no response the man on the other side barges through the bedroom door, not caring what the occupants might think about him running into the sanctity of their bedroom.

Finally in the room, he rushes to the man withering in panic, grabbing hold of the flailing form he yells, “SHUICHI!!! You have to wake up! It’s just a dream, damn it, come on back to me!”

“YUKI!” the crying form wails, latching onto the closest thing to human warmth. Opening his lavender tear filled eyes, he looks up to his savior. At the realization that is in not his Yuki, he squeals and jumps away from the man holding him steady.

“Easy Shuichi, it’s just me,” the man whispers calmly to him, not wanting to upset the vocalist any farther.

“H…Hiro?” he asks hiccupping a sob the escapes.

“Yeah, it’s me. You were having a nightmare, you’re safe now,” he tells him. What else can one say in this situation. Hiroshi himself, never had to deal with the things his best friend has to now. Inwardly he knows Shuichi isn’t being straight with him, he knows something worst than a bad beating occurred that night with Aizawa. Yuki pretty much summed it up for him in a rather short explanation, ‘Leave the brat alone. Don’t push him for answers, just be there where I can’t.’ That’s it, end of story.

“A dream?” his words are broken, as his mouth trembles to get them out. “A dream!” he cries once more, wrapping bare arms around his nakedness. This is not the first time Hiro has noticed Shuichi doing this, covering his body…his soul.

Large deer eyes peek over his knees, as he searches the room. ‘I know what you look for my dearest friend, but you’re not going to find him,’ Hiro tells himself. A flood of sorrow washes over him, he has come here to be the bearer. “Shuichi, you have to make me a promise okay?” he asks, his own eyes tearing up.

“A promise for what, Hiro?” a meek voice asks, curiosity pulling him from the cocoon he has made.

“Just promise me, please?” ‘please don’t make me do this to him!’

“Ok, I promise you, whatever you want me to promise,” he replies curtly, getting pissy at Hiro’s vagueness.

Crawling over to the naked boy, he grabs hold of him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Not an embrace of sexual want, but that of a brother. “Hiro?” he questions. Holding onto the man, like he was the worlds last true treasure, Hiro can’t hold back the rack of sobs hammering in his chest.

“Shuichi, you know I love you. And, I know you love Mr. Yuki, but you must know that no matter what…I will ALWAYS love you,” the guitarist chokes. ‘Why does it have to be Shuichi? He has never done anything to anyone!’ Pulling back from the warm and now calmer singer, Hiro wipes at the tears streaming his face.

“Hiro, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” Shuichi asks in the darkness of his bedroom, holding onto a crying Hiroshi. ‘Oh, how you remind me of myself when they told my of my parents crash. I wonder did I look like you do now?’ “Hiroshi! Answer me!”

Hiro moves closer to his friend, quickly turning him so that his back is flush against his chest. He knows, with out thinking, what Shuichi’s response to his news will be. Wrapping two strong arms around the squirming bundle, burying his face in the vocalist’s neck. “Shuichi,” he whispers, gagging on the next few words that need to be said, “There was an accident. Yuki’s dead” And, then all hell broke loose in the spacious bedroom. Screams of anger and wails of sorrow seemed endless, then in the blink of an eye….silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I was dreaming, no it was a nightmare. A horrid nightmare where I was alone, my lover had left me, and I was dying inside. I was cold, and the warmth was being sucked from my body. I was drowning and I couldn’t breath….my lover’s dead and I want nothing more than to join him. It was all a dream…a horrible twisted dream , and at some point I just might wake up.’

“Shuichi, please wake up. Come on now, say something to me, cry, be angry, scream for fuck’s sake just SAY something!” Hiro yells at the passed out form of Shindou Shuichi. Cold water sprays from the shower head, while the red headed man preciously balances the boy under the water.

After hearing the devastating news, Shuichi struggled, screamed, cried, wailed, and finally passed out cold. Panicking at the thought of his friend having a heart attack or stroke, Hiro picked up the small form and rushed him to the bathroom. It was a futile attempt to wake him. Clutching him closer, his clothes becoming wet and heavy, sliding down the length of the shower. Huddled under the cold spray with a broken Shuichi, Hiro just gave up.

A fierce hatred for Yuki Eiri came crashing to the surface, a hate so strong it burned his insides. Reason left him, and delusion took it’s place. “It’s his fault you’re this way, Shu. I will never forgive him for making you love him,” he bites the words out. “Never in a thousand lifetimes, will I forgive him for this.”

“Yuki?” a mumble fumbles from the shivering form. Jolting up, sliding on the wet ceramic tub, he screams, “Oh GODS….YYUUUUUKKKIIIIIIIII!”

“Please calm down Shuichi!” the red head grabs a hold of the sliding pink blur. “Calm down and listen to me! There may still be a way to save him…to get him back,” he tells the screaming man held in his arms. His love for Shuichi out weighs the hatred for the man who did this to him. Grasping at straws, he knows this, he asks the wiggling prisoner, “Do you love him truly, and whole heartedly Shuichi?”

Stilling his fit, violet eyes grow artic and cold, shoving from the hold on him, hissing at the man standing in the shower with him, “Of course I do. I will never love another as I do Yuki. If he can not be with me in this world, than I refuse to live here as well.”

Shock etches across Hiro pale face at the visible change in his friend, no longer now is he sad. ‘He is cold, so cold, and his eyes…they could cut me where I stand!’ He stands and just simply walks out of the shower, not even bothering to turn off the water. Turning the nozzles off, scrambling after the dripping wet Shuichi, Hiro slips in one of the puddles left behind him. Falling fast and hard on his ass, the red head groans, and jumps back up to reach Shuichi in time before he does something stupid. “You promised me, Shindou! Remember that!” he yells in fear of not reaching him in time.

“The promise is invalid, Nakano,” a chilly voice floats from the bedroom. Pushing his ascent faster, Hiro turns the corner and stops dead. There, before him, was Shindou Shuichi Japan’s most loved star, shinning just as brilliant as Sakuma Ryuichi, kneeling on the empty bed. Head tipped back, tears falling backwards, somewhere inside of Hiroshi should be afraid or at the least curious at the antics ensuing. But, he can just stare at him, totally naked and flushed pink all over from struggling and crying, not even the gods could refuse his desires.

A haunted song flares loudly in the room, jumping Hiro wonders where it is coming from. A small CD radio is sitting harmlessly on the night stand next to the oddly posed Shuichi. Sad melodies rip tears from their souls, and the piano solo drowns them in their own emotion. Turning to the guitarist, the singer raises his small arms in the air, swaying to the sorrowful song, he sings,
“With my song…. I will charm Demeter’s daughter, I will charm the Lord of the Dead. Moving their hearts with my melody, I will bear him away from Hades.”

“What…?” Hiro stumbles over the words. But, before he had the chance to ask his question a blind white light surged through the room, and in the blink of an eye, Shuichi was gone. Left only, was the imprint of his small frame and small twin puddles of manifested sadness. “Oh, Shuichi, what have you done?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He dared more than any man ever dared for his love. He took the fearsome journey to the underworld. There he ripped sorrow filled words from his throat, and at the sound all that vast multitude were charmed to stillness.

At Acheron’s bank, the dark haired ferrymen watched in awe as the mortal walk through the gates of Underworld. Pushing his glasses farther up his nose, he looked down at the oddly colored mortal youth. “What business do you have here, mortal?” Charon’s raspy voice calls out nervously. If the Lord finds a mortal in his domain, there will be hell to pay. Forever serving his Master, with his shriveled heart and blackened soul, Charon will do his bidding with glee.

“I have come to reclaim that which was stolen from me,” the pink haired man/child states boldly, no fear wavers his words.

“Mortals are not permitted in this realm, you will do well to return to the realm in which you came,” the ferrymen tells him, pushing off with the ebony oar.

“Not with out my lover,” Shuichi retorts cryptically. Breathing deeply, closing his eyes, he weaves the siren’s song brewing within his torn soul.

“Weak midnight promises of love,
Were wept upon his grave,
And shunned by stars above.
In mortal life lurks my dismay,
An angel stole my heart.
And Death took him away…”

With every lyric sung, Shuichi drew nearer to the ferryman and vessel. Each word punctured a hole through the ragged old Charon, closer and closer the boy came.

“He sleeps beyond the grace of God…
A dreaming beauty.
If wishes could only fray that bond
The dead would sing for me…..”

Face to face now with the ferrymen, the vocalist steps aboard his boat. Humming softly to a song playing is his memories, he puts a pale hand upon the old Charon. “Take me to my lover,” he croons. With a push of the oar, the water’s of Acheron part, allowing the travelers to cross.

Rowing their way across the murky water’s of Acheron, the screams of the dead wanting to enter Underworld grow defining. Guttural moans, accompanied by shrill screams echo through the twilight realm. Silently the two travel. Finally crossing the threshold from the living to the Underworld, shivers play up the singers spine. For now, there is no turning back.

“That’s the gate to Hades Realm,” the ferrymen croaked out. “You better know what you’re doing mortal. let’s just hope your lover is worth the trouble you’ve caused this day.”

“He will forever be worth it,” he whispers. “Forever, Yuki.”

The boat hit’s the shore’s muddy surface with a sick sound, like that of a knife sinking into flesh. Stepping easily from the rocking ferry, the blood colored mud threatens to steal his foot. Shuddering in disgust, the pink hair youth sludge’s through the crimson wasteland.

Making the long trek to the guarded gate, Shuichi immediately notices the guardian standing watch. Shining long blond hair flows around that perfect build, sharp blue eyes hone on the mortal morsel walking towards him.

“Oh, great Cerberus, grant me entrance to your master’s kingdom,” the boy sings out lightly. “There’s something I must retrieve this night.” Shuichi, having heard of the legend of Cerberus the three sided quagmire, knew how to deal with him. It’s common knowledge that the guard will let any soul enter, it’s leaving that’s the trick. Pushing that thought to the furthest recess of his mind, he comes face to face with Cerberus.

At first sight the guard seems harmless, just a beautiful man standing in all his glory, back dropped by the ominous black metal gates. But, first impressions are not always the truth. A glance, below the belt, tells a different story. Two chrome guns, lay against his hips, seeming almost innocent strapped there.

Not wanting to stay any longer, in the in-between of life and death, the vocalist exhales his song.

“Twelfth moon arose with ghostly voice,
A poet’s serenade.
His name a whisper ‘pon my lips.
And lo, Yuki came.”

Raising his voice higher and higher, notes flooding from his soul, the pink hair fallen star cries his plea Cerberus.

“My promises wrought through despondence this night.
Have delivered me gifts from the grave,
Yuki enshadowed and eternal life,
Never a devil so vain.
The angel fallen, for I thought him lost.
And, no heaven would silence the pain.”

“Your entrance is permitted mortal,” were the soft words growled between curved lips. The three sided personality of Cerberus clearly showing his animalistic nature. Not wanting to remain in the company of this beast for much longer, the singer walks slowly past the guardian.

The sound of old grating steel echoes deafeningly through the hallowed chamber, picking up his un nerved pace slightly, Shuichi is tempted to run the entire way to be with his lost love.

Quickly and quietly he passed the tortures that Hades’ realm had to offer. The dark haired Ixion, who’s wheel will forever be in motion. The shaggy white-blond hair of Sisyphus, who is the betrayer of secrets told. And, the most vile of criminals, Tantalus who served human flesh on his table, forever to be thirst yet find no resolve. His brown eyes, dead and cold, bore into the youth passing through the barren field. The severest of sinners, Tantalus, calls out to the passing boy, “Prince lay down thy florid cheek in drunken slender. Tonight rare regal fate has cast the wolves amongst the sheep.”

Heeding no song, sung by the ultimate sinner, Shuichi strides through the gauntlet of tortured souls. Drawing nearer to the kings chamber’s the nauseating smell of death rolls in waves. Thick tangible waves, threatening to bowl the young musician over. Covering his face, in a fruitless attempt to block the smell, he pushes forward.

“Only a little ways to go, until we meet face to face.
My lover forever gone, I will bid his case.
No lord or lady, will take him from me,
God or Goddess, I will not flee.” (1)

Striding into the thrown room, with masked courage, Shuichi forgets how to breath. For, there before him sat Hades and his queen. Icy teal eyes cut into his flesh, as artic blond hair dangles sinfully in front of his irregular eyes. It is said that one’s eyes are the window to their soul, in this case Hades’ soul is frigid and frozen. Such and extreme contrast of light and darkness played in the Gods coloring, truly a terrifying beauty this deity is.

“Mortal, state your reason for braking into my domain,” a soft voice carries thunder through the chamber, sending icy shivers down his spine.

Bowing before the Dark Lord, the singer goes to stand before the two. Closing his eyes, letting all the pent up emotion flow, he slowly sings.

“ O Gods who rule the dark and silent world,
To you all born a woman needs must come.
All lovely things at last go down to you.
You are the debtor who is always paid.
A little while we tarry up on Earth.
Then we are yours forever and forever.
But I seek one who came to you too soon.”

The boy sings, heavy tears falls from his flushed cheeks, as he tries to catch his fleeting breath. Wrapping small arms around his frame, looking deep into the eyes of Hades, he wails in a thick sorrowful voice.

“The bud was plucked before the flower bloomed.
I tried to bear my loss. I could not bear it.
Love was too strong a god. O King, you know
If that old tale men tell is true, how once
The flowers saw the rape of Persephone.
Then weave again for sweet Eiri.
Life’s pattern that was taken from the loom
Too quickly. See, I ask a little thing,
Only that you will lend, not give, him to me.
He shall be yours when his years’ span is full.”

No one under the spell of his voice could refuse him anything. The very Underworld it’s self became still. The wheel of Ixion slowed to a stop, Sisyphus sat at rest upon his burden, while Tantalus forgot his thirst. Even the guardian Cerberus sat quiet and at peace, content to just be. Screeching wails could be heard outside the chamber, as the dreaded Furies themselves cried for the wayward lover of the musician. Lavender and Brown hair intertwine as the furies cried, for the first time in their immortal lives.

“Oh, my gentle King, his song has struck my heart,” the beautiful Persephone weeps. Wiping at the tears that sting her own eyes, she steps into the embrace of her prince. “Remember our love, and what we went through. Take pity on the musician and grant him one lifetime with his love.”

A single silent tear ran down the Lord of the Underworld’s cheek, vision blurry and burning he calls for his attendant. “Cousin mine, come to my aide,” his voice wavering slightly. “Your wish will be granted young poet, for your love shines true. One lifetime to be given to you two.”

“Yes?” a young green haired demon servant asks meekly, shying away from his cousins gaze.

“ Sleep, bring me the body and soul of Yuki Eiri, he is to be returned to his lost love,” Hades tells him, an uplifting tone laces his words. Nodding to him slightly, Sleep drifts away to retrieve the parcel.

“Thank you, oh Lord, thank you for this. You don’t know what you’ve done for me,” the singer cries. Falling to his knees before the pair, shaking in apprehension for his Yuki.

“Don’t thank me yet, young singer. With every deed done, is a cost. Yuki’s soul will belong to me after his second death, forever and always,” Hades’ teal eyes narrow at the prospect of having such a beautiful love as Yuki.

“I…I understand grand Lord,” the boy stammers, unknowingly entered into a deal with the devil.

“Hush now, sweet child, and listen to my love. There are conditions to be followed for your love to last,” sweet Persephone gently tells the weeping man. “Upon exiting our kingdom and leaving this realm you must never look back. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, you must never look back.”

“Yes, young artist, you must never glance back,” Hades whispers cryptically, followed by a sliding sound for behind.

Turning towards the sound, the pink hair youth gasps at the sight. Slowly approaching him, is the body of his love. Running toward him, Yuki sees what the commotion is. “Shuichi?” he questions, not trusting his eyes.

“Yuki?” he calls back breathlessly, catching the blond writer in a bear hug. Crushing the very air from his lungs, Shuichi can only cry in his lover’s neck. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I know,” the writer whispers into pink locks, for the first time in years the tears flood his vision.

“You must leave this place, it’s not a realm for love to flourish, this I know to be true,” Hades tells the embracing couple. “Leave now, and heed my warnings.” With that the God and his lady fade to black, leaving the two to leave in peace.

“Let’s go Yuki,” the vocalist says, taking the first step out of the chambers. “You must stay behind me, and keep this pace.”

“You have followed me to the ends of the Earth, I will follow you wherever you go,” Yuki forces his voice to work, the closer they approach the gate that harder it becomes. Opening his mouth to yell to his love, nothing but a rush of air flies out. Wrapping his hands about his throat, he tries to kick a stone, anything to alert Shuichi. Picking up the pace, to remain in step with him, his body feels heavier.

“I bow to you, gentle musician, Hades has given you his blessing. Leave this place, and hope to not return,” Cerberus tells the pink haired singer, a small tear welling in his blue eyes as the two pass. For any being would give a hundred lifetimes to find a love as strong as theirs.

The sun shines in a blinding light, and Shuichi knows he is close. Fighting the urge to turn and grab his lover, he just walks the steady pace. Finally stepping into the golden rays, face tipped up soaking the cleansing light, he turns to his love. He saw him in the dim light, and he held out his arms to clasp him; but on the instant he was gone. Slipping back into the darkness. All the boy heard was a faint word, “Loveyou…”

Desperately he tried to rush after him and follow Yuki down, but he was not allowed. The Gods would not consent to his entering the world of the dead a second time, while he was still alive. Falling to his knees, Shuichi screamed in pain, “YUUUUKKKIIIIIII NNOOOOOO!!!!” Pounding his fists against the hardened earth gate, screaming his lover’s name over and over again until his throat was raw and bleeding.

All that was echoed through the forest was the haunting laugh of Hades, the forlorn cries of Persephone, and the torn wails of Yuki Eiri. The cryptic warnings handed out by the god of death were made painfully clear that moment, Hades not being a foolish God did not fall for the Vocalist’s voice once more. His most prized possession ripped from the singer, and firmly placed amongst the tormenters of Hell.

After sitting at the gate for a two days, the boy picks himself up and begins to wonder the woods of Japan in the bleakest misery ever felt by a mortal man. Coming to a clearing, a sparkling clear river shines tauntingly in the morning light of nature‘s teasing sun. Kneeling by the river bank, all will to live gone with any hope and capability to love, his tears fall into the water and rush away in a stream of endless loneliness and emptiness. Visions of his love burning his mind with the nights of passion blinding him and the voice of love deafening him, he never hears the band approach.

“Well, well, well, will you look what we have found?” a disgusting familiar voice slices through the haze. Looking up with the most terrifying expression of no emotion, he simply stares directly into the steely eyes of Aizawa of Ask, the Bad Luck vocalist tries to stand, though it is obvious there is no real effort being used. “Down on your knees, where you belong!” he yells, backhanding the emotionless entity of flesh and bone back to the ground. “You will pay for ruining me, and my career.”

“You can not do anything to me, Aizawa, that I wouldn’t do to myself at this moment. I could care less because nothing truly matters anymore,” Shuichi says with a tone of death to his voice.

Pulling out a Katana, Taki says, “Your mockery ends now!“ Then, in one fell swoop he beheads the once jovial singer. Shuichi’s smile of the purest serenity and knowing is firmly planted on his features. For he knows the secret now. “NO!” Taki yells, “even in death, you still mock me!”

The boys beautiful head fell into the water with a loud splash, dying the river red. And his blood flowed as freely as the shattered soul that day, and it soared through the cities dam as if being carried by the eagle‘s wings, giving his gift of eternal music to all. Not the muses of the Underworld, nor those of his family could save his lost spirit and grant the lost will to live. For without Eiri there was no life to be had.

“The sweetest descends, magenta spirits fill the skies
A weak erotic melodies, where sex and death abide
From withering tides where gothic sirens weave their song to shore
Through the ashes of the fields where ravens and angels war
As phantoms we have fled the basilisk of day
To rise as phoenix taloned, nightly taking prey.”

~End~
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Well can anyone guess the myth? For those who are wondering it’s Orpheus and Eurydice. Below is a character chart to who the Gravi characters are matched with those of the myth.

Orpheus= Yuki Eiri
Eurydice= Shindou Shuichi
The Viper that kills Eurydice= Sakuma Ryuichi
Charon the ferryman= Mr. Sakano
Cerberus= K
Hades= Seguchi Touma
Persephone= Seguchi Mika
Sleep= Suguru Fujisaki, Sleep was the brother of Hades.
Ixion= Ken of Ask
Sisyphus= Maa-kun of Ask
Tantalus= Aizawa Taki of Ask
Furies= Noriko and Ayaka

Each character the was played out in myth form had it’s reasons. Look closely at the sinners sins, and ask your self do they sound familiar? And try to see how each person fits their roll. As sad as this fic is, it just had to be written. Yuki’s and Shuichi’s relationship is practically ripped from Greek tragedies.

SeveredWings &
Pink haired baka <- no really it’s really pink.

Beta read and some revisions done by Pink haired baka a.k.a. Mr. Smiley

Bibliography: Edith Hamilton’s Greek Myths and Homer’s Iliad. (1), these lyrics are my own, other lyrics provided: Nocturnal Supremacy by Cradle of Filth