Ma Cherie: Chapter Five
Author: Scarlet Kozi
Klaha woke up the next morning around nine o'clock. He had decided last night, just before falling asleep, that he would skip school, because after all, he had more important matters to attend to now. Gackt needed him. Therefore, Klaha had neglected to set his alarm, and it was a very nice change to wake up late.
He hadn't felt this warm, this safe, this content, in a long time ...
He sat there in bed for a few long minutes after waking up, only looking down at Gackt. The other boy was laying on top of his chest, his head on Klaha's shoulder. His arms were still loosely clasping Klaha's form, and his light weight was a pleasant feeling as it pressed Klaha against the pillows. The moisture in Gackt's eyes from the previous night had dried, but the bruises were still there, as was the mild furrow of the brow as he slept otherwise peacefully, his cheek pushed against Klaha's shoulder. It was just a shame that so much cloth was in the way of their bodies.
"Ohayo," Klaha whispered.
Gackt didn't stir. He had been exhausted, and was still fast asleep.
'I wonder how much sleep he usually gets.' The deepness of Gackt's breathing as he rested there in slumber indicated that he was grateful for any rest he got. Klaha sadly imagined that Gackt must not have gotten much sleep, most of the time. He was probably up at all hours of the day, and the night. For a little while, Klaha just remained there watching Gackt's face, as the sun, following the storm from the previous night, shone in through the drapes. All he would do was wonder ...
Wonder how such a complex person could possibly have entered his life so quickly.
Slowly, contemplating, Klaha came to a very important decision. Although part of him hated to move away, he carefully disengaged himself from Gackt, leaving the other boy resting upon the pillows. He tucked him into the sheets, and then went to take a shower.
He hadn't gotten a chance last night to do this, since Gackt had so desperately needed care and Klaha had devoted all of his energy and attention to helping him bathe himself. Now Klaha realized that if he was going to go out anywhere today, he ought to clean himself up a bit. He went to the shower and turned on the water, hoping that it wouldn't wake Gackt up. No, it probably wouldn't ... Gackt wouldn't wake up for a long time, at this rate.
Once Klaha stripped off his clothes and got into the shower, he quickly and efficiently washed himself and shampooed his hair. But he stayed a few extra minutes, pressing his back against the wall and letting hot cleansing water run over his body, so that he could think. He closed his eyes, and by the time he came out, he had made that decision.
He was even more sure now that he had to keep Gackt with him for a little while. After all, Gackt seemed even more badly injured this time than he had probably been by that client. He'd not only been beaten, but raped also, and that was likely something that would hamper someone whose only job was having sex. Klaha immediately rebuked himself, ashamed, for thinking of Gackt like that. He never wanted to think of Gackt as a prostitute, even though he knew that was what he was. Gackt would probably never have forgiven him, if he knew that Klaha thought of him as a whore.
Nonetheless, Klaha intended to take care of Gackt. The other boy so clearly needed his help, even if he didn't realize it, or if he refused to admit it.
'I'm going to find Yoshiki.'
In the back of his mind, Klaha felt badly. He knew that Gackt wouldn't approve of this resolution. In fact, he knew that Gackt would probably use violence to try to keep him in the house, if he knew of Klaha's intentions.
As Klaha wrapped a towel around his waist and peeked out from behind the bathroom door, he saw that, just as he had expected, Gackt was still fast asleep. He had shifted slightly, more on his back now without someone underneath him, and his head was tilted to one side with his hair framing his face. Klaha almost smiled, and then came back into the room and silently got dressed, casting glances over at Gackt every once in a while, half just to look at him, and half to make sure Gackt hadn't woken up.
For some reason, Klaha felt afraid. He hoped desperately that Gackt wouldn't hate him for doing this, for going to the place that he had so violently protested that Klaha visit. Klaha knew that Gackt didn't want him to see his home, or meet anyone he knew, especially someone like Yoshiki, his lover.
Klaha halted. Was that JEALOUSY he felt as he thought of Yoshiki as Gackt's lover ...?
No, it couldn't be. Klaha brushed off the thought and finished getting ready, dressing himself in a pair of black pants, a black shirt, a dark blue sweater, and a long warm coat. His hair was mostly dry now, and as Klaha stood in front of the mirror checking his appearance, he fixed it a bit so that it looked less tousled. He didn't want to bother with making a good impression, but then, he didn't want to seem too young or too disorderly.
'I can't just leave him here, though,' Klaha thought pensively, biting a nail as he stared at Gackt. 'At least, not without saying something, or leaving a note. What if he wakes up and I'm not here? I know him---he'll be frightened ... Well, maybe not frightened, but definitely nervous.'
Therefore, at last heaving a sigh in surrender, Klaha grabbed some paper and a pen from his desk and wrote a quick note. He left that note next to Gackt on the pillow, gazed at him one last time, and left.
[Twenty minutes later]
As Klaha walked around on the streets of the slums, he wondered almost anxiously whether he had made a mistake. It was so early. It wasn't even eleven o'clock in the morning yet. Of course, most civilized human beings were awake and hard at work by this time, but Klaha wasn't familiar with people from this area. He couldn't help but wonder whether people like Gackt, people like Yoshiki, would still be asleep, or whether they would be busy.
Klaha found himself quickly at the place that he knew Gackt lived, and marveled at the fact that he had memorized its location so well. 'That's funny.' Shaking his head, he went up the steps, pushing his coat behind him, and stood at the door to the apartment building.
One normally needed a key to get inside, a key that was given only to the residents, and Klaha stood there uncertainly for a moment, wondering what he was going to do. Out of curiosity, he tried the knob and found, surprised, that it was unlocked. As he pushed the door open, a flash went through his mind of someone drunkenly stumbling in the door and not even bothering to lock it after them last night. No wonder, then.
When Klaha stood inside the hallway, on the first floor with one hand on the banister of the stairwell, he swallowed to himself and looked around. He suddenly felt very small. He'd never been in a place like this.
But now was no time to lose his nerve. Klaha went up the stairs. As he did so, anxiety with a different reason almost started to swell in his mind again. He furrowed his brows as he ascended the creaky stairs, wondering about Yoshiki. He had only seen Gackt's lover once, and then, the man hadn't seen him. Nor had he seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Klaha still felt a bit of anger, to remember the harsh words that Yoshiki had spouted out at Gackt from behind that very entrance door beneath him.
'I can't afford to have any grudges against him,' he admonished himself. 'I don't know him, after all. It's wrong to make judgments. And besides, he's clearly important to Gackt, so I have to do this right. Ano ... I just hope that's in ... well ... better spirits than last time.'
Klaha paused when in the upstairs hallway, and glanced about at all the doors. Which apaato was Gackt's?
It turned out to be the one at the end of the hallway, on the opposite wall from the stairs. The only indication of this was the little stained nameplate next to the door, which listed Hayashi Yoshiki as the main resident. Klaha had come to the conclusion already that Gackt and Yoshiki lived together, for Gackt had said that without Yoshiki, he would be on the streets. Therefore, Klaha went up to this door. He raised his fist and hesitantly rapped his knuckles against the door.
No response.
He blinked, feeling somewhat unsure again, and a bit disappointed, for Gackt's sake. He leaned a bit closer with his ear near the door, listening for any sounds of life within, and he could have sworn that he heard a rustling sound. Maybe someone throwing off some sheets from far away? That was a good sign.
Klaha waited a moment, and when nothing happened, he knocked again.
This time, someone opened the door. Klaha jumped slightly, as though he hadn't been expecting someone to be home, as the door slid inwards and someone stood before him now. Then a look of surprise came over his face to see that the person hovering there, with one slender hand on the door, was none other than Shinya.
Of course, it took Klaha a moment to remember the other boy's name. Shinya was wearing a long bathrobe, and he seemed somewhat disheveled, much less tidy and prettied-up than he had seemed on the street, when Klaha had run into him while looking for Gackt. Nonetheless, Shinya was still beautiful. His femininity almost seemed impossible at first glance, and he was so thin. His long, dark hair was a bit out of place at the moment, but it flattered his face cutely, even though that face was expressionless and almost cool. He was holding his bathrobe around his body, and was standing in the space between the door and the doorframe as though to keep Klaha from seeing beyond him.
"O-Ohayo gozaimasu," Klaha managed, along with a short bow.
Shinya raised an eyebrow upon recognizing him. His eyes traveled up and down Klaha once, and he lifted his hand to smooth his hair idly. Even though he was better at disguising it, he was nearly as surprised to see Klaha as Klaha was to see him. He said nothing.
Klaha flicked his own hair out of his eyes, and forced himself to look composed. "Is Yoshiki here, onegai-shimasu?"
For some reason, Shinya furrowed his brows slightly. Perhaps he had not expected to hear this, but it made him a bit nervous. Absently, stifling the urge to look back into the apaato again, he nodded. "Hai."
"May I see him?"
This was confusing to Shinya. He hadn't thought that Klaha knew Yoshiki, after all, only that he knew Gackt. It was possible, of course, although usually, Shinya ended up knowing when Yoshiki had become acquainted with someone. Shinya decided that what Klaha meant was to ask whether he could see GACKT, and therefore, he tried to tell the visitor, "Gomen. Gackt is not here."
Klaha spoke almost bitterly, to himself. "I know."
Shinya blinked, taken aback.
Klaha's eyes moved back up onto Shinya, and he said softly, "I want to see Yoshiki-san."
Shinya felt a sinking feeling. He didn't know why, but something told him that the last thing he should do was let Klaha talk to Yoshiki. Having stayed the night, Shinya knew that Yoshiki was not in his best of moods, although he couldn't tell the reason. Yoshiki wouldn't tell him anything, but grew agitated at all of his questions, especially when he asked where Gackt was. Honestly, neither of them had known the answer. Now, Shinya realized at the very least that when Yoshiki was like this, he could sometimes grow dangerous around others, around strangers. Shinya was lucky enough to know how to control him, most of the time. Swallowing and shaking his head almost anxiously, Shinya attempted to tell Klaha, "That's not possible. Now ... Now really isn't a good time."
Klaha swallowed. He'd been afraid of that ... but he couldn't just turn around and go home. He had to do this, for Gackt. Therefore, he forced himself not to back down. He faced Shinya and looked at the other boy with authority, and though he was silently imploring him, he was also trying to tell him that this was of ultimate significance. "I have to see him," he said again. "I'm ... sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but this is very important."
Shinya shook his head and was about to speak when Yoshiki showed up. When the partly familiar, but mostly unknown form loomed up behind Shinya, Klaha blinked.
As he usually tended to be when he was home, Yoshiki was only half-clothed. He was just wearing a pair of jeans without a shirt, and seemed half-awake, as though he had just gotten up, or as though he had been awakened by sounds from Klaha's arrival. Nonetheless, he wasn't paying any attention to Klaha yet. His eyes were on Shinya as he fuzzily ran his hand through his hair and came up behind the younger man.
Yoshiki slid an arm around Shinya's waist. Shinya flinched slightly, and glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, seeing Yoshiki there. The older man gave him a tiny grin, one which seemed strange and almost drugged to Klaha, and tried to pull Shinya back into the room. "Come on, Shin-chan ..."
Shinya's eyes, however, fell upon Yoshiki's hand. Loosely held between two of the fingers was a cigarette of some kind. The scent which emanated from it was pungent and almost threatening, and Klaha attempted not to wrinkle his nose as he looked at it. Shinya's attention had refocused on it, and now, an expression of mild irritation and pleading worry entered his eyes.
Oddly, despite how he had been cool to Klaha, Shinya's voice was almost meek when he spoke to Yoshiki. "I thought I told you to put that away," he said. "You've had enough."
Yoshiki seemed annoyed to be told what to do. "You're not my mother."
"I know that."
"Then come back inside," Yoshiki murmured in his ear, his arms gripping Shinya, and once again he tried to pull him back into the room.
"Wait a minute, Yoshiki ..." Shinya's request caused Yoshiki to slow down reluctantly, and then, following the direction of Shinya's eyes, he looked up and saw that Klaha was standing there just outside the door, not more than three feet away from him. That was odd. He hadn't noticed that there was a visitor.
Klaha looked back at him and tried to appear polite.
However, nothing he could have done or said, or even attempted to imply, could have made Yoshiki get any kind of a good first impression from him. Yoshiki's eyes traveled over Klaha's body, seeing how he was dressed, how young and shy and apparently intelligent he seemed, as though he came from a different place entirely. Some distrust almost came into Yoshiki's face. He saw clearly that Klaha was from a more favored part of town than he was. Yoshiki loosened his grip on Shinya slightly, but didn't let the boy go entirely yet as he looked at Klaha unsteadily. "What do you want?"
Klaha blinked. "I ..."
For some reason, his mind was blank. He was still getting used to the fact that this was Yoshiki. The man had looked a lot like this when Klaha had seen him last. Was this what all pimps looked like? But nonetheless, Klaha was still taken by surprise to see Yoshiki like this. It was just so impossible to convince himself that Yoshiki was actually Gackt's lover. It was so hard to picture Gackt with someone like this. Yoshiki seemed so careless, tough, unfeeling ... nothing like the person that Gackt needed. And when he was supposedly Gackt's lover, here Yoshiki was with his arm wrapped around Shinya, trying to draw him back into the room so that they could continue ... what? Klaha didn't want to know. But he could feel his inner indignance, his inner anger, to think that Gackt was being betrayed. Even though Klaha didn't want to jump to conclusions, he immediately felt disdain for Yoshiki, almost snobbish disdain. Gackt deserved better than him. Aloud, Klaha said, "I wanted to see you."
Yoshiki cocked an eyebrow at him and took another drag from his cigarette. "What about?" He paused. "You want a whore, ne?"
Klaha felt himself paling. "N-No," he hastily said, softly.
Yoshiki was growing irritated, as though he had more important things to do. "Then what do you WANT?" he asked, running his hand down Shinya's side, apparently itching to get back into the apaato with him alone. He looked at Klaha darkly, apparently wondering who Klaha was and what business he had with him.
Klaha couldn't help but feel young and slightly weak in comparison to someone who radiated as strong a presence as this man, and his voice remained muted as he spoke. "Do you know about what happened to Gackt?"
Yoshiki halted abruptly, exhaling smoke.
Shinya seemed even more surprised. He'd been trying to twist out of Yoshiki's arms, clearly annoyed with the man, but now his attention was diverted. He considered Gackt his peer, after all. "Something's happened to him?"
Klaha glanced at him, seeing worry in his eyes. "H-Hai."
Yoshiki didn't say anything. He just looked down his nose at Klaha, studying him, waiting. Klaha sensed a great deal of tension suddenly, in Yoshiki's muscles, in his eyes, in the air around them. He didn't want to talk about this on the step of the apaato, but there was no really polite way to invite himself inside a place like this, nor could he find the courage to ask permission to come in. Therefore, he simply spoke. "I ... well, I HEARD that ... that Gackt was your ..." Klaha didn't know how to say that he knew that Gackt and Yoshiki were lovers.
A low throaty sound came out of Yoshiki's throat. "He's mine, yeah."
Klaha winced to hear those words. There was something so wrongly possessive about them. Klaha thought about how strong and tough Gackt sometimes seemed around him, and it was strange to think of how subdued and meek Gackt probably was around someone like Yoshiki instead. Klaha banished these thoughts and continued. "W-Well, considering that, I only wanted to see whether you knew that Gackt ... that he's been ..." Klaha kept the tears from coming. Don't cry, he told himself! Now definitely wasn't the time to be weak. "That he's been raped."
Shinya gasped. Obviously, this was something that he hadn't known about either. He stared at Klaha. "He ..."
Yoshiki seemed sullenly unsurprised. He brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed in. "... Oh."
Klaha almost frowned. That was all Yoshiki had to say? Klaha, a perfect stranger, had come up to his door and told him that his lover had been violently raped and beaten, and all this man had to say about it was "oh"? Didn't he care about Gackt at all?
There was a pause. Shinya was waiting for more explanation that Klaha wouldn't give.
Then, Yoshiki spoke again. He was looking at Klaha almost suspiciously. Something like harsh anger had come into his eyes, as he tossed the now put-out cigarette over his shoulder into the apaato. He slowly released Shinya completely and moved a bit in front of him, so that he closed the distance between he and Klaha, so that he was looking at Klaha intensely. "So who the fuck are you? His new lover?" His voice was almost bitterly mocking as he said the words, but taken with his displeasure and aggravation.
Klaha felt his heart beating a bit faster as his eyes widened.
"What did you come here for?" Yoshiki hissed at him now, sharply. "To tell me that he's left me, for you? To beat the shit out of me?" He noticed Klaha's confusion and grew more upset. "That's what you want to do, isn't it?"
Klaha didn't understand what was going on, and was astonished. "I ..." He couldn't really say anything more than that.
Yoshiki's voice was low and rough when he asked, advancing a bit more on Klaha, his posture turning threatening, "So where's Gackt?"
Klaha had an answer to this. He almost took pride in being able to answer it. A dark frown almost came over his face, conquering his own fear and slight anxiety to be facing a menacing person like Yoshiki, as he drew himself up and answered coolly, "He's staying with me, at my house."
Yoshiki pushed past Shinya now, in a flash, and things moved very quickly ... too quickly for Klaha to predict. Before he knew it, Klaha found that Yoshiki had grabbed him roughly, glowering into his face with violence and what almost seemed to be hatred. He swallowed hard when Yoshiki's hands closed like claws on his collar, jerking him towards him, executing ultimate power over him at that moment. Yoshiki's voice was lower now, but very rapid, infuriated, and even vicious. "Do you think you can take him from me? Do you? Do you think that anyone, ANYONE, can EVER take him from me?"
Klaha tried to struggle, a confused frown dominating his shocked features.
Shinya interjected now, coming forward and pulling on Yoshiki's arm. "Stop it," he told him forcefully. "Please, Yoshiki. Don't do this!"
Yoshiki laughed. It was a terrifying sound. Shinya managed to pull him away from Klaha, and Yoshiki's hands slipped from the boy's neck. Klaha relaxed, breathing a bit easier, but surprised at how rapidly his heart was beating in his chest. He looked up to see that Shinya was trying to pull Yoshiki backwards, even though the man seemed as though he wanted to rush Klaha again. "Go to sleep," Shinya ordered Yoshiki. "Just go back to sleep. And get rid of the rest of that ..."
Then Shinya glanced at Klaha, as he struggled to hold Yoshiki back. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "You should go."
Klaha merely gazed at him, unflinchingly.
But Yoshiki wasn't content. He seemed enraged at the idea that had blossomed in his mind, the idea that told him that Klaha was trying to take Gackt from him. Even as Shinya tried to pull at him, he continued to heatedly snap and retort things at Klaha. "What the fuck do you think you're going to do? Did you come here to kick my ass for raping him? Is that what you were planning?"
Klaha stared at him, his breath seizing, and his back stiffened.
"Where is Gackt?" Yoshiki demanded, struggling against Shinya. "Why isn't he back? He needs to come home, damn it! He's got to get back to work. I need him here. He has to come back, he HAS to ..." It was impossible to tell whether that was actual desperation in his eyes then, or just an extension of his anger.
At that point, Shinya shot Klaha one last apologetic look and then shut the door. Footsteps, a bit of defeated scuffling, disappearing into the distance, and then silence.
Klaha stood there in the hallway for a long time. He just gazed at the door, dully, but inwardly he was overwhelmed with his shock. He needed to think about this, but he couldn't do it here. So he turned around and left. He walked down the second-floor hallway, slowly descended the stairs, and exited the building, shutting the entrance door after him.
Then he started go back home. When he was on his way there, it all suddenly fell into place.
Yoshiki was the one who'd raped Gackt. He was the one who had beaten Gackt up, the one who explained all the marks that could be found on Gackt all the time. He was the one who explained so much of Gackt's pain. When Gackt had said briefly that Yoshiki was a different person now since hide had died, that he spent more time waiting for his death than he spent actually living, he had not been lying. Suddenly Klaha was filled not only with confusion, confusion at such a way of life he'd never been acquainted with, but also with anger. Anger at Yoshiki, for hurting Gackt as he had. Klaha had seen over Yoshiki's shoulder: he had seen the dirty apaato, the numerous substances and dirty items scattered around, the lack of wealth, the apparent hopelessness of the place, and mentally compared it to the opulent homes he'd been raised in. He suddenly could understand why Gackt would be so ashamed to show him his home. But that didn't matter! All that mattered was Gackt's pain, Gackt's need.
Klaha had to get to him. So he went home. But by now, he'd already spent a good hour wasting time, wandering around after leaving Yoshiki's and Gackt's apaato, trying to make sense of everything.
[A little after noon]
Gackt was awake when Klaha returned. It wasn't much of a surprise, considering the time.
Klaha's motions were almost weary as he entered his home, slipped off his shoes, but left on his jacket as he wandered down the hallway. He approached the stairs and went up them, getting closer and closer to his room, reassured slightly by the thought that soon he'd see Gackt's face again. In the back of his mind he wondered whether Gackt would still be sleeping. He wasn't, of course.
Klaha walked into his bedroom, and saw Gackt there.
He was sitting on the edge of Klaha's bed, at the foot of it, facing Klaha. He had changed his clothing on his own, apparently, for Klaha's black pajamas now sat in a neatly-folded pile right on the floor next to the bed. He was dressed in his kimono again, the deep scarlet and crimson one, and was seated motionlessly. He seemed much stronger than he'd been the previous night. His shield of tough expressionlessness was back, and he seemed physically less weary, less exhausted, though his eyes were guarded and blank. In his hand he held Klaha's note, the note which had said that Klaha was leaving to tell people that Gackt would be staying with him for a while. When Klaha entered the room, Gackt barely looked up to acknowledge his presence.
Gackt said softly, his eyes on the floor, "You went to my home."
Klaha halted, and swallowed.
"I know it. You must have." Gackt's voice was unsteady, as though he was trying to control his anger. "Even though I begged you not to, you went to see everything I was trying to hide from you. Now you know everything, then."
Klaha stepped forward a few steps. He couldn't face Gackt due to his shame, so looked away. Uncertainly, he whispered, "Hai. I know that it was Yoshiki who did it to you. And I know that he betrays you with the others that are prostitutes also ... like you." He didn't know where the words had come from, but they were honest. "I know that he's living a life that's like burning a candle at both ends. It's dangerous, and it'll end in his own pain if he doesn't change."
Gackt was silent.
Klaha moved forward again, now looking at Gackt, anxiously searching his face. "I ... I'm trying to make myself understand why you can't leave him, even though you don't love him, even though he doesn't deserve you. I'm trying. But now, at least, I can understand why you always seem so quiet, why you have so much sadness ..."
Gackt seemed deeply affected by his words. His eyes had grown distant. "No."
Klaha blinked.
"No. You can't understand." Gackt seemed on the verge of tears again, but tears that he was coldly trying to control. In slow stiff motions, as though very weary again, he rose to his feet and looked at Klaha, smoothing the front of his kimono. His voice was strained. "You haven't seen it yet. You don't know yet ... You've only seen Yoshiki, only my home, my poverty, and you don't really know what my life is like. It's all right," he said now, having gotten his fury under control. "I don't resent you because of it. Before this, I didn't want you to know. Part of me still doesn't want you to know." He paused. "But if you're willing, I'll ... I'll show you." He winced as he said this.
Klaha was surprised, and blinked, staring levelly at Gackt.
"Even though I can't tell you everything ... I'll TRY to show you," Gackt whispered. "I... I trust you, Klaha."
Klaha couldn't help but feel his heart jump a little bit, slightly. He had never expected that an opportunity like this would rise up. Something in him swelled a bit with pleasure and relief, to know that Gackt trusted him enough to try to show him, despite the fact that he could hardly speak about it. Klaha wanted to accept this chance, even though he felt a bit afraid, afraid of what Gackt might be offering.
Gackt saw the honest eagerness, the concern, in Klaha, and he hesitated. Once again his eyes were far away, and almost sorrowful, bitter. He told Klaha, "But you have to promise me something. You must not interfere at all, in the slightest way. You have to stay a shadow on the wall. That's it. Otherwise, I ... I won't be able to make myself let you see the way that my life really is. It would be too dangerous ... for me, AND for you."
Klaha sensed the feeling in Gackt's voice and nodded, wordlessly, promising.
Gackt strode slowly, smoothly, up to Klaha. He halted right in front of him and kept looking down for a moment, and then turned his eyes upward. He looked straight into Klaha's eyes, more intensely, with a million emotions conflicting within his own, guarded there. Klaha had never seen quite this kind of look in Gackt's eyes before. He didn't know that Gackt was thinking about what was going to happen, dreading what was going to happen, because he knew that Klaha would see every minute of it. Nearly intimidated, Klaha almost backed up.
Gackt didn't bother to try to reassure him. He didn't move, so Klaha forced himself to stay where he was as Gackt spoke. "You might think you want to see it, but trust me, when it's over, you'll think very differently," he attempted to warn, in a low voice. "You'll see me as a very different person than you do now. It'll change the way you think. You'll wish that you had never seen it ... that you had never agreed to let me show you what my life is like."
Klaha shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I want to see it."
Gackt watched him, searched him warily, wanting desperately to trust him, fighting with his own inability to feel affection. "I have to make my own promise," he said now. "To you."
"Hai." Klaha nodded.
"I promise you that I'm not acting." Gackt's expression displayed his suffering for a fleeting moment before he banished it. "And I won't BE acting later on, either, when it ... all starts to happen. I'm not about to change who I am or what I say or how I react, for your benefit. For ANYONE'S benefit. If something happens that's surprising to you, then I'll probably be surprised too." He paused. Something like a very small smile came over his face then, a sad one, as he added softly, "But then again, things that surprise you might not be strong enough to surprise me anymore." He didn't wait for an answer. Once he was done saying this, his eyes slid from Klaha's and he started to walk past him.
He kept walking, out of the room and out of the house.
Klaha helplessly followed, at first nervous as they went down the stairs. He remembered how very weak Gackt had been, and he tried to say, "But you shouldn't go anywhere yet, do anything yet ... you're still not well ...!"
"I'm fine," Gackt said, calmly, over his shoulder.
"But ..."
"Trust me. I heal very quickly. I have to, after all."
Thus, Gackt brushed Klaha off swiftly when he attempted to corner him with his worry. Klaha observed Gackt as he followed him, after hearing this. Indeed, Gackt's stride was composed and poised again, indicating that his strength had returned. The fact that he was such a quick reviver was both awing and saddening.
Klaha followed Gackt all the way back down to the slums from which he'd come, but some time had passed since then. It was long past midday, due to Klaha's waste of time between leaving the apaato and going back to his house. Now, they went to Gackt's apaato again. The front entrance was locked now. Someone must have used it and remembered to lock it this time. Gackt unlocked it and let them in, then silently walked up the stairs with Klaha following him. When they were on the second-floor hallway, Gackt briskly headed for the end of it, for the last door, and he paused there, glancing back at Klaha once.
"Shh," he just whispered at first.
Klaha nodded.
Gackt leaned his ear against the door, looking upwards, carefully listening to make sure that no one was there. The silence proved to him that, if anyone had been there earlier, they had left soon after Klaha had, for now the place was empty. When Gackt heard nothing, he unlocked the door and let the two of them into the apaato, quietly.
No one was there, of course, but the place was still a mess. Gackt seemed to experience a great deal of trouble walking in, especially with Klaha. After all, he felt such shame that this was what he had to call his home. He tightened his hand into a fist around the key and winced, closing his eyes as he pushed the door shut after Klaha. Klaha glanced at him once, almost worried, but he knew not to say anything.
He'd never been inside here, but had glimpsed a bit of the interior over Yoshiki's shoulder about an hour and a half, two hours, ago. Now he had a close range look. He observed the disaster, but tried not to dwell on it for too long, since Gackt seemed so uncomfortable with revealing this privacy of his to him. They stood in the middle of the floor for a moment, almost awkwardly.
Gackt said softly, his eyes roving around, "I'll have to clean up again. I just organized things a few days ago, but Yoshiki must have found some way to get things dirty again ... Too many drugs around," he muttered, casting disdainful, worried looks at all the substances.
Klaha watched him with worry.
Gackt glanced at Klaha once, then disguised his pain and walked over to the beat-up sofa. He lowered himself to sit on one half of it, and Klaha followed his lead without speaking. He merely sat next to him, and once again, they were silent. Gackt looked into his lap and Klaha made a few last-moment examinations of the room, from where he sat, with his eyes. In his mind Klaha was disturbed. Why was Gackt acting so ashamed all of a sudden? So soft-spoken? The moment he had walked in the door back at his house, Klaha had noticed a slight temporary change in Gackt, but could not explain it. Gackt knew something that he didn't.
Gackt spoke again, catching his attention, though he seemed absent. "Promise me again," he said, almost imploringly. "Promise now that no matter what happens, no matter WHAT, you can't say a word. You can't come out of hiding. You just have to watch. Just watch, until it's all over."
Klaha stared at him.
"You can't make the slightest protest, or else we'll BOTH get into trouble." Gackt swallowed.
Klaha was puzzled and a bit disconcerted. His eyes searched Gackt as he frowned, trying to make sense of this but failing. Come out of hiding? Watch? What did Gackt intend for him to watch, and why would he have to hide? Shaking his head slightly, he shifted to face Gackt more and said, "But Gackt, you don't have to ..."
Gackt's fingers were suddenly upon his lips, silencing him. Klaha halted in mid-sentence, blinking quickly, feeling the softness on his mouth. Gackt's eyes were pleading. The rest of his face was expressionless, blank, but his eyes were all that betrayed the emotion he was feeling. He begged Klaha, "Please, just promise me," in a very, very soft voice, one that Klaha had never heard him use.
Suddenly, with a sinking heart, Klaha realized that something horrible was going to happen. He couldn't picture what. He saw, however, that Gackt seemed to know all too well, seemed to be able to predict it, envision it. Therefore, Klaha gave a small nod, with serious eyes. Gackt's own eyes softened, and his lips parted slightly as though he was about to say something.
But then the sound reached their ears. Heavy footsteps on creaky stairs.
Gackt jumped. He stood up immediately, adjusting his kimono, and he grabbed ahold of Klaha's wrist. Before Klaha could protest, Gackt pulled him up from the couch, causing him to take a moment to get his balance. But there was no time for this. Gackt seemed slightly panicked, almost desperate, as he pulled Klaha across the floor, close to the tatami mat that had been spread out there, to a half-open closet.
"Here," he said briefly, urgently. "Get in."
Klaha raised an eyebrow at him, glancing at the closet. "HERE? But ..."
"Onegai!" Gackt pushed Klaha inside now, his hands on his shoulders, refusing to wait for yet another protest as the sound of the footsteps grew nearer. The closet was small, and the upper portion near the top contained shelves, so Klaha was forced to get down on the ground and crouch there. There was luckily enough room for him to sit comfortably, but he was puzzled nonetheless. Staying there, getting his balance, he looked up at Gackt, searching for answers. But Gackt just gave him one last pleading look before shutting the door.
Actually, he left it a crack open. On purpose.
And then he abandoned Klaha. He hurriedly sprinted across the room back to the couch, and he sat down immediately, arranging himself in a flash as though he'd been patiently waiting, and it seemed that there hadn't been a moment to lose. Just in time, the door opened, and Yoshiki stood there.
Klaha's eyes widened, behind the crack of the closet door, and he stared.
Yoshiki looked a bit more cleaned-up than he had earlier that day, when Klaha had seen him. At least, he was more dressed, and more composed. His hair was in his eyes again, and he seemed very tired, but the moment he walked inside and laid eyes on Gackt his energy was replenished. He saw Gackt sitting there and halted in his tracks, nudging the door shut behind him with his toe.
Sitting there silently, Gackt merely gazed back at Yoshiki from the couch, with his hands in his lap.
Yoshiki's eyes appraised Gackt for a moment, and then, with an unsteady stride, he went over to him, folding his arms coolly. He almost seemed suspicious. He was standing above Gackt now, slightly to the side, so that Klaha could see both of their profiles, so that it wasn't hard for him to see what was going on.
"Where have you been?"
Gackt looked down, so that Yoshiki wouldn't see the spite in his face. Without meeting Yoshiki's eyes, he answered softly, "I stayed the night at a friend's house."
In the closet, Klaha noticed that no mention was made of rape, of what Yoshiki had done to Gackt yesterday. It was strange, and Klaha almost felt insulted. Why wasn't Gackt saying anything about it? Why was he just letting Yoshiki pretend as though it had never happened, when clearly it had hurt him so much? It must have happened before ... How many times before, Klaha didn't know.
Yoshiki reached down and took ahold of Gackt's chin, tilting his face up. Emptily, but rather obediently, Gackt looked up at him. For a long moment, Yoshiki was bitterly silent, but then, his bitterness became violent. His expression became a small sardonic smile, an angry smile, which disappeared from his face the moment he raised his hand. He slapped Gackt across the face hard, exerting little energy to do this but apparently feeling satisfied with doing it.
Gackt's head turned to the side as a reaction, his eyes squeezing shut, but he only bit his lip and said nothing. He sat there like that for a moment, taking short breaths, as Yoshiki caught his own breath above him. Then, bracing himself, Gackt slowly turned to look up at Yoshiki again, apparently ignoring any pain that he felt from being hit, on the same cheek that he'd already been hit the previous day.
Yoshiki's voice was heated, his eyes narrowed. "Who the fuck is he?" he demanded.
Gackt furrowed his brows, gazing up at him. He was honestly confused. Who was WHO?
"That little shit who came by to tell me that you were staying with him. Who is he?" Yoshiki's voice shook with his indignance, his fury, as he answered Gackt's silent question. "Is he your lover? Is he the one you went to yesterday? Damn it," he swore, slightly angrily. "What the fuck is going on? Are you cheating on me with him?"
Gackt immediately shook his head, hating that Yoshiki thought he was that quick to betray him, as he had been betrayed. "Klaha is just a friend!" Since nothing had happened between the two yet, this was still truth.
Yoshiki stood there, remaining distrustful for a moment, but no matter how altered by drugs and alcohol his state of mind tended to be, he had always had a gift for sensing the truth. Slowly he relaxed. His lips actually curved into a smile. He reached down and took ahold of Gackt's wrists, pulling the boy to his feet.
Gackt merely stood there at first, turning his head away, waiting for the inevitable.
Yoshiki moved closer against him, pressing their chests together, and he cupped Gackt's face in his hands, gazing down at him lustfully. Desire was in his purring voice. "I'm glad you're back," he murmured. "I knew you would be."
Gackt closed his eyes and tried to look away, in contempt. "Yoshiki ..." In his mind, he was trying to fight against this. Part of him knew that it had to happen, so he shouldn't fight against it, for after all, hadn't he been counting on it? He had brought Klaha here for a reason, and that reason was to show him what his life was like. A large part of his life was being forced to succumb to Yoshiki all the time, forced to have his body used and his heart ripped apart again and again. Gackt had come to expect it, even though it hurt no less with each coming time. Klaha didn't know that, but he would soon. However, Gackt wasn't sure he wanted this ... wasn't sure that he wanted Klaha to see what was going to happen... It would change him. Having to be involved in it had changed Gackt enough.
Yoshiki moved slowly, bringing Gackt with him, to the side of the sofa so that they were near the wall. As Yoshiki slid his arms around Gackt, he wrapped one of his legs around Gackt's legs, sliding in between them slightly, rendering him helpless. He stroked his hands up Gackt's back, but his motions were rough. There was no affection behind them. He lowered his head to Gackt's ear and whispered, "I want it."
Gackt swallowed and put his hands on Yoshiki's shoulders, trying to push him away. "I'm tired," he said softly, shaking his head. "I can't. Not now."
"Yes, you can ..."
Yoshiki kissed Gackt hard, sliding his tongue into his mouth, pillaging him without asking any permission. Gackt was defenseless against him. It wasn't because he wanted it, but because he knew that there was no way to fight it. He'd tried to refuse Yoshiki in the past, and it just hadn't worked. He had ended up with a bleeding nose, like yesterday, tear-filled eyes, like yesterday, and a very sore body ... like yesterday. That had happened more than once.
"I want it," Yoshiki growled again, softly, more insistently. "I NEED it."
Gackt halted, swallowing hard. Then he nodded, very slightly.
Satisfied with this surrender, Yoshiki kissed him hard again, bruising his lips. Then he reached up behind Gackt, his hands sliding through Gackt's hair, until they were burrowed up near his head. He directed Gackt downwards then, not-so-gently pushing as though to indicate that he wanted Gackt's face lower, and he wanted it lower now.
Gackt gave up entirely. There was no way to fight this. But he couldn't help the feeling of cheapness, worthlessness, as he sank to his knees, to do one of the most despicable, submissive things that were among his daily activities ...
In the closet, Klaha bit his lip hard, his eyes wide. "No!" he murmured, then put a hand over his mouth, lucky that the sound hadn't been loud enough to travel through the crack of the door. He couldn't believe that this was happening. Why was Gackt giving in? He wasn't doing it ... for Klaha, was he? For Klaha's sake, to show Klaha what he had to deal with? Klaha shook his head violently, wanting to stop them. Gackt didn't have to do anything like this. Nothing was worth giving himself up and devaluing himself.
However, there was no way to protest. Klaha remained silent in the closet, though he had caught his breath and had not released it, forming a tightness in his lungs that was growing painful as he watched intently ...
Gackt was on his knees now. His motions were calm, practiced, for he'd done this before, but there was something about him that seemed to suggest that he was trembling. He WAS trembling. He didn't want to do this again. He reached up, however, as Yoshiki's leg snaked around his kneeling form again, holding him there, and he undid Yoshiki's pants. Yoshiki's hands tightened in his hair. "Do it."
Closing his eyes briefly, Gackt took Yoshiki's length into his mouth. Yoshiki let out a moan suddenly, a short high-pitched one.
Gackt began to work. He had done this so many times, not only to Yoshiki but to countless others, that his technique had been perfected. He didn't even have to think about it anymore. He knew precisely how to bring his partner to orgasm without even concentrating on it, because he never liked to concentrate. If he concentrated, he would start crying, and Gackt never cried. He held onto Yoshiki's hips as he licked and sucked at him, his eyes closed the entire time.
"Harder," Yoshiki moaned out, gasping. He pushed his hips forward, while at the same time his hands, in Gackt's hair, forced the boy's head nearer. Gackt fought against the tears in his eyes, and tried his best to please his lover. Yoshiki's leg was rubbing up against his back now. Gackt could hear the soft, but intense breathing, ragged and sharp, coming out of Yoshiki's mouth.
"Oh!" Yoshiki purred. "Oh ... Harder!"
Gackt kept going. A sense of desperation and disgust overtook him. How could he be doing this? How could he be showing just how cheap he really was, to Klaha? Klaha was the only friend he had. The only person---besides Shinya and Mana, who both seemed distracted with their own problems---that had ever showed affection for him. Klaha had been there for him. Klaha had comforted him, earned his trust, and Gackt rarely trusted anybody. The mere thought of knowing that Klaha was watching him do this horrible, dirty, condemned thing was enough to make him tighten his hands on Yoshiki's hips. He wanted to scratch Yoshiki's skin, wanted to shove the man away from him.
But Yoshiki didn't notice, as Gackt continued to vigorously suck at him. He came quickly. Rapid moans came out of him, again and again, the same sound pronounced repetitively in his atypically high, gasping voice. Yoshiki squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip, as he shoved his hips forward, moaning, clutching Gackt's head to his crotch as he erupted in Gackt's mouth.
Gackt kept himself from wincing. He swallowed it all, as fast as he possibly could.
Then Yoshiki jerked him upright. Before he could even finish swallowing, Yoshiki's hands moved from his hair to his arms, which he grasped with a vicelike strength. He pulled Gackt to his feet, removing his leg from around his body, and Gackt stumbled slightly. Yoshiki held him against him crushingly and forced his lips onto his. Gackt stood there motionlessly, closing his eyes, limply letting himself be kissed, as though if he tried to pretend he wasn't there, then it wouldn't be so demeaning.
Tears overflowed from Klaha's shocked eyes.
Yoshiki at last pulled away, breathing heavily, and he stared fiercely into Gackt's face. "You," he hissed. "You're MINE. Never forget that!"
Gackt stared at him.
Yoshiki's hands fumbled now at Gackt's kimono. Gackt seemed startled at first and was about to pull away, but soon a resigned dullness settled into his eyes as he passed his tongue over his lips, trying futilely to dry them, rid them of what he knew lingered there. Yoshiki wasn't good at dealing with ornate clothing, but he managed to undo Gackt's obi and yank it off, then loosen his kimono also. He pulled the garment away as well and dropped it, leaving Gackt bare and helpless again. Yoshiki practically dragged him away from it, then started to move him across the room.
Gackt stumbled slightly. Not because he was all that weak. He was doing better. But because he'd be damned if he did anything else of his own will. If Yoshiki wanted him, he would have to work. Gackt knew that actually trying, when he hated doing this so much, would cause him too much pain ...
Yoshiki yanked him over to the tatami mat, which had an unmade futon thrown over it. His breath was still ragged, his body still unsteady, and his eyes still clouded with his dead lust and need. "Get down there," he just growled, and pushed Gackt.
Gackt let himself be forced down onto the mat. He sank down onto it and just sat there for a moment, catching his breath, his eyes on Yoshiki the entire time. Yoshiki was now struggling with his own clothes, which he couldn't seem to wait to get off. His jacket, his shirt, his pants, his boots: everything was thrown, or even hurled aside in his anger. Such fierceness, and he was about to take Gackt, too. Gackt knew that he should be frightened for himself, but he couldn't really be, not so much, anymore.
When he was naked, Yoshiki came back over to the mat and futon with Gackt sitting on top them, and he pushed Gackt down onto his back roughly. He crawled on top of him, and already, he was apparently ready to be satisfied again.
"You're mine ...!" This he panted out as he mercilessly pinned Gackt down, squeezing him into the mat.
Gackt had to struggle for air for a moment, and with his hands he clawed his hair out of his face and his mouth, taking long deep breaths again. He gazed up at Yoshiki, waiting for it to happen, hoping that Yoshiki didn't see any of the resentment, the worry, the fear, the grief, the pain, or the concern in his eyes. Of course, he didn't. Yoshiki was oblivious to everything now.
And as Gackt lay there, Yoshiki started again, like yesterday, in that it was sudden, but this time, Gackt was expecting it. He only winced slightly, biting his lip hard, when Yoshiki thrust into him. Bracing himself, Gackt lay there and took it.
Yoshiki took a moment to get used to being inside Gackt again, to having Gackt's muscles grip his own and provoke sensations from him that he denied he couldn't feel with anyone else. He moaned loudly, biting his lip also, but for different reasons. He linked his arms down under Gackt's shoulders in order to steady them, shifting around in the tightness of Gackt's body.
He didn't start slow. He started fast. He began to pound in and out of Gackt, brutally, as though he wanted to hurt Gackt more than pleasure him. This was probably true. Yoshiki himself was enjoying it enough, however, and was grunting and gasping loudly, pressing his body down onto Gackt's.
Gackt lay there, his arms just barely clasping Yoshiki loosely. He stifled a small gasp. He couldn't help it. His mind was distracted with other matters, such as his pain and his grief, and his shame at knowing that someone so important to him was watching this ... but he couldn't deny the impulses of his own body, couldn't stop it from feeling some pleasure. A soft moan rose out of him, as he arched his back slightly, his eyebrows furrowing.
It got like this sometimes with customers, too. With strangers. Gackt hated it, didn't want to enjoy it, felt like shouting curses and taking a knife to himself. But his body would feel otherwise, and the fact that he was able to climax only made him feel more ashamed during all those times.
Gackt mentally yelled at himself. No! Don't enjoy it! But he couldn't help it ...
He felt dizzy now, as Yoshiki heaved on top of him, inside him, hitting that place deep within that made him feel those waves of pleasure, over and over, even though the motions were so hard that it hurt also. Gackt's hips, as though they had a mind of their own, tried to move to meet Yoshiki's thrusts, but Gackt refused to let them. As gasps wracked his frame, gasps and moans that he couldn't make himself stifle, he forced himself to lie there, still.
Maybe he wasn't as revived as he thought he was. Gackt could usually hang on for longer than this before he felt dizzy, but now, little circles of light were flashing in front of his eyes. After all, he had been abused, and he'd had a fever last night. He couldn't expect to be completely well so soon.
Yoshiki's speed was increasing as he pumped in and out of him, grunting roughly. His lips sought Gackt's out, maliciously, brushing along his cheek.
Gackt turned his head away weakly, letting out another soft moan. "No ...!"
He wanted to push Yoshiki away and run. Damn himself for letting this happen again. This was a horrible idea, had been a horrible idea from the start. He never should have let Klaha come here with him. He never should have let Klaha see how weak he truly was! What was he thinking? Now Klaha would despise him, he would never want to see him again. Gackt felt the tears prickling at his eyes again, but he kept them from coming as his body heaved, seeking a release. In mid-orgasm, Gackt's half-lidded gaze wandered ...
Klaha's eye.
That was all of Klaha he could see. It seemed as though Klaha was hiding in the closet now, whereas earlier he had been leaning intensely near the open crack to see better. Now he was trying to shrink away, out of sight, and the shadows from the closet hid most of his body from Gackt's disabled view. All that was visible was one of Klaha's eyes, with some strands of black hair half-covering it. An expression of shock, of agony, of horror, of heartbreak, was gleaming there.
Seeing that made it all even worse to Gackt. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, stifling another whimper of passion, willing the tears away, feeling his body pushed into the mat over and over. Yoshiki was merciless above him, pounding him relentlessly.
Slowly, Gackt opened his eyes again. Klaha was still staring at him, with that one eye, that pleading, tear-filled eye.
Gackt stared back at him for a moment, his eyelids falling partially closed again as another wave of unwanted pleasure overtook him. He held Klaha's gaze, unable to look away, not wanting Klaha to look away, wishing that this was Klaha above him and not Yoshiki, relishing this one last comfort that he had as his body was overwhelmed with its climax. He arched his back, gasping, shudders convulsing him, as his eyes remained locked wide open on Klaha's, as though he was sharing this with the other boy, unintentionally. Klaha's eye widened and it seemed as though the rest of him was trembling in the shadows of the closet, with horror. Gackt's body fell mostly still, exhausted, as he averted his eyes to gaze weakly up at Yoshiki again.
Yoshiki wasn't done yet, though. It must have been the drugs. Some of the substances that he insisted on taking had unpleasant side effects, but one of the effects that could probably be thought of as positive was the advancement of Yoshiki's threshold of pain, and his sex drive.
As Gackt lay limp below him, Yoshiki continued thrusting, gasping, glaring at Gackt. "You're nothing," he managed to grunt out, insulting him as he took him. "NOTHING."
Gackt swallowed hard, closing his eyes. He was greatly weakened, and just let himself be taken, let himself be offended and profaned.
Yoshiki gasped out suddenly, writhing, continuing as his pleasure started to escalate towards orgasm. When he spoke again, it was painfully clear to Gackt who "he" was, and why Yoshiki was talking about "him" now. "You'll never be as good as him---never---he should never have let you stay---why the fuck are you here, when he's gone?"
Gackt turned his head to the side, not opening his eyes, in fact squeezing them shut tighter. He didn't dare breathe. It hurt too much.
"Damn you," Yoshiki murmured out at last as he came.
Gackt felt Yoshiki's body suddenly shaking violently on top of his, felt Yoshiki's heart racing against his chest, just as Yoshiki released himself inside him. Gackt's body was filled now with something that he didn't want to think about, something that filled him too often, and he tried to stifle his nausea along with the resentment as Yoshiki collapsed on top of him. He fought the impulse to push Yoshiki away.
For a moment, they were both still. Gackt said nothing. Yoshiki lay there, still twitching a bit, breathing heavily.
Then at last, he pulled out. But he pulled out roughly, too roughly, making Gackt bite down on another gasp of pain as he glanced up now. Yoshiki sat up next to Gackt, cleaning himself off, anger still flashing in his drunken eyes, and he glanced down at Gackt suddenly. His eyes searched him, saw the tears on his face, and he became angry. "What's the matter with you?"
Gackt closed his eyes again, realizing for the first time that he had let some tears fall.
"What, am I so horrible?" Yoshiki demanded violently, shoving at Gackt. "Do you want me to throw you out?"
Gackt only shook his head. Empty threats, terrifying threats.
Yoshiki seemed entirely disgusted with him, though it had been he who had wanted this in the first place. He shoved Gackt's prone body a second time, as though pushing him away from him. Yoshiki got up to a standing position, almost falling over, and grabbed some clothes, yanking them on. He muttered something under his breath about where he was going and why, but the words weren't audible.
When he was dressed again, he grabbed a bottle of beer and cracked it open, taking a drink. He shot one last glare at Gackt, and callously ordered, "Get back on the streets already. You've been taking too much goddamned time off lately. Wasting my fucking money."
With that, he left. The door slammed after him.
Gackt lay there, perfectly still, staring at the ceiling, until he was sure that Yoshiki was gone. He was still catching his breath, and his chest was rising and falling unevenly. He sat up slowly and cleaned himself off, then reached over to a pile of clothes and grabbed a bathrobe. It was the same one that Shinya had been wearing earlier, but he didn't know that. Wouldn't have wanted to know. He pulled on the bathrobe, sliding it over his arms and his shoulders, weakly tying it closed around his waist. He cursed himself, digging his nails into his palms as he got to his feet.
Klaha. Gackt, standing up, turned his head in the direction of the closet. He regarded it for a moment silently, still getting himself under control. The crack between the door and the doorframe was dark now, entirely shadowed, with no one to catch the light. Klaha's face wasn't there any longer.
Gackt thought he heard a sound, one that made his heart seize slightly in pain. Swallowing, he silently crossed the room, tucking a strand of brown hair behind his ear. He paused just in front of the closet, standing there hesitantly, and squeezed his eyes shut again for a moment. His head was swimming with pain. He wanted to drown all of this agony away, wanted to banish all this suffering from his life. But that was impossible.
Gackt reached out and pulled open the closet door.
Klaha was sitting crouched there with his back against the wall, his knees bent, and his face buried in them, his arms shielding himself. He was crying hard, harder than he could remember crying for a very long time. He didn't want Gackt to see him cry, but he couldn't help it. His face was still hidden from Gackt's view. His frame, painfully thin, looked so weak all of a sudden, his slightly long hair drooping down, his shoulders violently shaking, as he tried to keep his sobs quiet.
Gackt felt a wave of sadness. Hesitantly, he came over and sank down onto the floor also, just next to Klaha, watching him blankly, trying to hide that he felt a stab of pain to see Klaha like this.
Klaha didn't acknowledge his presence yet. Maybe he didn't know that he was there.
Gackt lifted his hand and laid it on Klaha's. All he really wanted was to take Klaha into his arms and clutch him as hard as he knew Klaha wanted to clutch HIM, so that they could find comfort in each others' embraces, but Gackt couldn't do that, not now. He couldn't make himself touch Klaha too much, since he felt so dirty, so ashamed, so angry. He whispered, "Now do you understand?"
To hear this, Klaha released a choked sob, shuddering. Slowly, he raised his head and looked over at Gackt. Gackt was surprised to see his face now. Klaha's cheeks were streaked with tears, his eyes full of absolute pain and distress: the shock and great desolation like that which children possess when they discover the meaning of death, the meaning of suffering. Klaha stared at Gackt, trembling, trying to swallow his tears, but he could barely look at the other boy, after what he'd witnessed.
A moment passed. Klaha found his voice, but it sounded soft and rough, tormented. "I never want to see anything like that ever again. Ever again. I ... I ... How could you let him? How can you do that every day? I don't understand ... I don't---"
"Shhh," Gackt whispered now. Every word that reached his ears cut into him like a knife. He sat there in silence for a moment. Then he put one arm around Klaha's shoulders. "Let me walk you home."
NOTES~I would apologize, but ... it's pointless, when it comes down to it, even if I'm the only one who prefers to read shocking material as opposed to the norm, which I know I'm not. Either way, though, I don't usually write things just for shock value ... I can't really control what comes out of me when I'm writing, but it's rare that I just throw things in for no reason at all. Write to me, onegai, and take care for now.
Glossary
ohayo: good morning
apaato: apartment
hai: yes
onegai: please
gomen (nasai): I'm sorry
minna-san: everyone
To BE Continued
To the next part