Entry tags:

shards

GakuHai Snapshot (Part One)
Title: Shards: Pressing Moments.
Rating: PG-13 (for pro-homosexual content, and some kissing).
Warnings: Cursing.
Pairings: Hyde x Megumi.(Will be GakuHai / Gackt x Hyde)
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. This story is a product of my imagination, not fact. I doubt Hyde and Megumi’s lives happen in exactly this way. Consider this piece of fiction an AU from the real world.
Words:1406
Notes: I’ve taken the liberty of calling Hyde and Megumi’s son Hinata. Because the boy needs a name, and because Hyde is adamant about not telling us what his name is, I picked one for him. ^^
Also, "Shards" is the title of the series of snapshots I'm writing. There will be more...while they're not necessarily connected, they do happen in the same "timeline." As in to my this Hyde, and later, to this characterization of Gackt.

Summary: L'Arc's practice session spins to a halt. Hyde's PoV.


Art By AoiShu

Cover Art by AoiShu! :) It is lovely. If you want to comment on her art, click on the link above to her deviantArt account, or go directly to the image. :)

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Shards. Pressing Moments
by smilingcrescent.

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“I need to sit down.” I step away from the microphone even as the others continue playing, anxiously shifting from foot to foot. My head feels heavy, my stomach wrong. It’s mid afternoon, and we’re in the middle of practice, working and reworking the new songs. Everyone’s been working so hard, and I’m trying to keep up, but something is just not right.

Tetsu sets his base down, a tense frown wrinkling his forehead. “Hyde?” He makes my name into a question.

My stomach churns uneasily, and I feel sick. I grab my bottled water, acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on me. Watching my every motion like there’s a spotlight just on me. “Sorry, sorry.” I mumble, and wipe my mouth. “Just give me a minute,” I say, uneasily lowering myself to the floor. I sit on the cold ground. “Just a minute,” I mumble, looking down to steady my water-bottle.

“Break?” Tetsu asks, and he sets his base down, shedding it like so much clothing. Tetsu brushes past the equipment, and slowly, deliberately, heads towards me. His hand is callused and familiar when he offers it. “Floor doesn’t look so comfortable,” he shrugs, smiling.

I smile back at him gratefully, and he hauls me to my feet. I walk in a daze, like a sleepwalker wandering through misty dreams. I lick my lips, not even pretending to listen to what everyone’s saying. My mind wanders, but I don’t focus on any one thing. My stomach doesn’t feel right. I sit on the couch, trying to breathe slowly, to relax. If I just relax, the feeling will pass.

Ken nods, and walks over to the couch, slumping down with a cigarette already in his hand. Yukihiro slowly joins him, grabbing his bag of chips to munch on. Ken and Yukihiro talk easily, still discussing the music even when Tetsu’s declared a break.

My stomach’s been bothering me all day, but I thought it was just a reaction to the pain medicine I’ve been taking-- for headaches. The others just smile and joke patiently, telling me that I’m worse than a woman when it comes to pain. I don’t know what to say to that.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re practicing again. I stumble through the notes, not even trying to sing words, just syllables. My performance is lacking, and I know it, but I can’t concentrate. I sing the same song again and again, more times than I can count.

The world is a dream, an image of words I’ve penned down from a moment now gone. I can’t remember the feeling now. I step away from the mike a second time, swaying on my feet. The room is spinning. Are we on the refrain, or is this the end of the song? I search for words that just won’t come, unable to think past the haze of pain.

My thoughts are obscure, slow and muddied. I realize I’m on the floor, and that I’m cold—shivering. But my stomach hurts too much for me to make sense of this. I feel like I’m going to be sick, but more than that, I feel this intense pain in my abdomen, growing steadily stronger.

I don’t understand why it hurts this much. I can’t understand the voices around me, can’t focus my eyes on the figures shaking my shoulder.

“Fuck. Don’t shake me,” I gasp, and clutch at my stomach.

“Hyde, Hyde! Can you hear me? What’s wrong?”

I feel someone rubbing my back, and hands pushing, trying to get me to sit up.

But I can’t sit up right now. It hurts too fucking much to move. I look up from the ground and realize that everyone is surrounding me.

Where did the poetry go?

“Shit man, I know you said your stomach was upset, but shit! If it’s this bad, you need to go to the hospital,” Ken says around a cigarette. He frowns and runs a hand through his hair. “Tetsu, look at him. He needs a doctor.”

“Hyde, Hyde listen.” Tetsu ignores everything Ken is saying, and just tilts my head back to look me in the eyes. “What did you take today? How many aspirin have you taken?”

I feel sick. My stomach lurches and I gasp, afraid that I’m going to lose it right there. “I don’t remember,” I moan, shuddering. “My stomach hurts, my stomach hurts, mystomachhurts. Why does it fucking hurt this much?”

“Hyde, did you take anything besides aspirin? You didn’t mix it with-- with some other drug, did you?”

“Tetsu, leave him the fuck alone. He needs a doctor!” Ken yells, and I moan. I stare at their feet “That’s it. If you won’t take him, I will.” Ken shuffles from foot to foot, anxious movements that look unnatural, when it’s Ken.

“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” Yukihiro asks, his voice uncertain and a little afraid. “I mean, he looks really bad.”

“Hyde, what do you want to do?” Ken asks me, voice serious but with an urgency that I can’t remember hearing before. “Do you want an ambulance?”

I close my eyes, trying to think past the pain. There’s a dull rushing noise behind my ears, the sound of a flowing river, just in my head. “No,” I lick my dry lips. “No. Help me up?” I plead, voice shaking, weak and soft as a child’s.

“Upsy daisy,” Ken grins, but the expression is strangely serious-- as out of place as a tree in the desert. He puts one hand on my back and one hand on my arm to haul me up.

I step backwards and then stagger forward; my sense of balance is shot to hell. I can’t stand up straight-- can’t stand at all without someone helping me. I bend over-- unable or unwilling-- to straighten out.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Yukihiro asks, and his quiet voice is hesitant. He doesn’t look at me, though-- he’s looking at Tetsu. “He can barely walk…”

“No ambulance,” I bark. I don’t want anyone getting wind of this, not even the staff, and especially not some curious bystander on the street. I lurch from foot to foot unsteadily, tugging Ken towards the door. “I don’t want any press on this.”

The sound-proof studio is just one of several in the building, and we walk out at an aggravatingly slow pace. I stumble, and slump into Ken’s hands. “Just a minute,” I grunt, clenching my teeth. I bend down, and land into the least painful position-- hugging my knees, head down as I just breathe.

I can hardly trust my own mind, I can hardly think or speak-- it hurts to be. To do anything more is completely out...

But Tetsu, dedicated, stubborn Tetsu, he puts his cold hands beneath my collar, massaging my neck gently. As though it might get my attention, as if I might suddenly wish to move. “Come on, Hyde, you need to get up...” he must have gestured to Ken.

Ken’s strong arms are beneath me, lurching me to my feet. “Hold yourself steady...”

Yukihiro is soft in the background. “...whose car--?”

I groan. “No keys...” I left them upstairs.

To the side, Tetsu shuffles around his pockets. “I’ve got mine,” he gestures vaguely. “This way.”

We make our way to Tetsu’s car like that, Ken half-carries me down the stairs, and Tetsu lingers close. We leave the building quietly, without event.

At long last, I curl into the front seat, though I’m unwilling to even put a seatbelt on. I can’t stand anything touching my stomach right now. I close my eyes and try to relax. “So,” I gasp, “what do you--” I breathe in sharply as we go over a speed bump, the pain is startling. “--think of the lyrics?” At their incredulous expressions, I try to explain. “It helps…to talk.” I make a small noise, a little high-pitched moan. “I don’t want to think about this…”

There’s a brave effort to keep my mind on the here-and-now, as Ken Tetsu and Yuki speak in a cluttered mess of words and agreement about anything that came to mind. It helped, sometimes.

The minutes stretched on.

Slowly, their words filter out, and I am left-- alone-- with everyone close by. My mind is a confused mix of symphonic sounds and lyrical darkness, pure nothing as the blackness edges in on my eyes. Everything spins to a halt.

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...tbc...

[part two]