Shards: American Holiday (part three)
Title: Shards. American Holiday.
Rating: PG-13 for Gackt-thoughts.
Warnings: A dreamy sort of angst. Meandering (stream of conscious) thoughts, with Gackt-ish imagery. Also – slow, slow relationship progression.
Pairings: GakuHai (Gackt + Hyde).
Disclaimer: As to the authenticity of this created tale, your guess is as good as mine. But for the record, it’s speculation, through and through. Consider this AU from the real world. Furthermore, Gackt and Hyde belong to themselves, as do their friends and family. No monetary gain is accumulated through the writing of this story.
Words: 1384

Summary: Gackt and Hyde arrange a meeting in America on a business trip. Gackt PoV.
This time: As their journey comes to an end, Gackt and Hyde venture into a book-and-novelty store for presents.
Suggested Tracks: [L’Arc] 雪の足跡 (Yuki no Ashiato)、[Gackt] この夜が終わる前に (Kono Yoru ga Owaru Mae ni)、[Gackt] Emu ~For My Dear~, [L’Arc] 瞳の住人　(Hitomi no Juunin).
Archive: [1] [ 2 ]




American Holiday

by smilingcrescent.

---

It’s two days until we return for Japan.

Since coming here, I’ve found myself in Hyde’s company off and on for the past few days, going out for drinks, breakfast or dinner between business plans. All in all, it’s been a rather pleasant affair. Now, it’s just after six o’clock when Hyde and I opt to do some shopping in a nearby shop.

I find myself thinking of no sound, walking through the large book-and-novelty store. It’s like breathing in a lungful of warm, dizzying smoke. It feels good, but can’t last long. Here, Hyde and I stay close together. I can feel his warmth next to me, and I can see, despite my wandering gaze, when he strays.

Even with this much to distract me, I still find myself thinking of him. Hyde. He’s soft, this small-framed man of extraordinary existence. His features, his dark eyes, and the way he sinks into himself when left alone...all soft...but those eyes can strip down even the strongest of men. That tongue can lash out. This intriguing, strong-eyed man has worked his way into true strength...and kept a secret along the way.

Do you suppose he’ll ever--

“Gackt,” Hyde’s smile is warm and full, “look at this.” He held to his chest a small, U-shaped cushion. It crinkles and shifts with his movements.

I can’t think of anything to say. I offer a tiny smile, wondering if my confusion is so apparent. “...it’s blue...”

Hyde chuckles, looking pleased nevertheless. “I like it.”

I go forward without much thought, placing one hand on the plush object. “...it’s soft,” I note with a smile.

Hyde laughs, soft and lyrical. “Oh, it’s a pellet-pillow...buckwheat, you know? It’s firm.” He presses it more persistently against my palm, as if to make me retract the comment.

“...the fabric’s soft,” I amend with a tilted smile. “Did you need a--”

With a rueful turn of lips and a hand in his long, dark hair, Hyde chuckles a little more. Less amused, and more embarrassed, I see. “...ah, I never really cared for hotel accommodations,” he admits softly. His eyes lift in sudden mischief, however, and my thoughts of angels flee abruptly. “And then there’s you, who’s at home enough to go stark naked...”

I laugh, bemused. “Hm. You never mentioned it before,” I remark, trying to bring the conversation back to Hyde.

A slow smile, but no easy victory. “Hm,” he mimics, “well, I did try and keep away from bedroom topics...” he grins. “You’ve been known to spout some terribly intimate--” he breaks off abruptly, those eyes of his far from my face as he speaks on, “Oh. Look, they’ve got some journals over there.”

I have to wonder how closely he minds his words, to break off like that.

Hyde walks with that easy grace of his, subtly beautiful and challenging all at once. His strong hands clasp together once behind his back as he examines the row of journals. With an eye drawn to the ornately decorated volumes, his artiste’s fingers trace the delicate design. One after another, the next few receive similar treatment.

After a small while, he seems to recall my presence. “Ah...” a shy smile. “Gackt, what do you think...?” The way he clutches that book...something about this must be deeper than it first appeared.

I straighten my glasses, and peer over the tinted lenses. “Very...complex.” I study the design. “Ornate. Like...textile art, I think. Reminds me of brocaded silk.”

Hyde’s responding look is tense...severe. “Do you think Megumi would...?” His jaw is set, almost too tight.

I give the journal an appraising look. “Ah, yes...the lady would appreciate it, I think.”

Unrelenting, he continues to press for my thoughts. “Mei-chan, you know, she’s a good mother.” His smile turns reflective, “she’ll always…you know. She’s awfully attached. Very motherly. See, I know…maybe she’d…” He sighs, but there’s a flicker of amusement at his own uncertainty. “You think she’ll like it?”

“Of course.”

He gives the book another glance as he offers me a nod. His lips slacken, and a serene expression overcomes him.

Hyde and I do not speak for a long while. Our eyes wander over a good many trinkets, and at last, I give a book-- Edinburg-- a thorough look-through. It’s a tantalizing cover….water, water, and music notes. The author, I note as I flip to the back, is Korean-American. I struggle through the words’ meaning for a while, and my mind drifts from the challenge before me to the man behind.

Time becomes meaningless for a few long minutes as Hyde disappears from real time.

When Hyde has meandered back again sometime later, I find that he’s gathered a more substantial handful than before. The journal’s gone back, but a small, paper-wrapped packet has come in, and some whimsical toy…a wind-charm, perhaps…is held to his chest…close to his heart.

I raise an eyebrow. “Changed your mind?”

“Several times,” he admits with a vague grin. There’s a certain strength to him, even now. “I want it to be perfect,” he notes lightly, though his eyes belie the careless tone.

“What is that?” I ask curiously, gesturing to the box.

“Whirligig,” Hyde replies, mischief thick in his voice. “I want to study it…maybe design one for Hinata.”

Hyde, the artist? “Ah,” I smile. “I think he’d like that.” I nod towards the other bundle. “For Megumi?”

He lets the paper down to reveal a statuette. It is faery-like in its elegance, and halfway between spirit and woman. Perhaps she dances…

“There’s a local shop next door,” Hyde smiles. “I thought it was perfect…do you think…?”

“More character than a journal.” I note. “A lovely choice.” I smile at the armload. He’s carrying something else, too, but it’s tucked safely away in a canvas sack. I peer over his hands, but Hyde deftly slides away.

“No,” he chides, dark eyes amused. “No, no.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Those are—”

“—for my friends,” he finishes with a sly smile.

The silence stretches, and I touch Hyde’s arm gently, leading him out of the rows of books and down the stairs to the registers. He laughingly steps into line, and together, we lean against the pressing flow of human forms, only to find ourselves pushed slowly, routinely, back onto the street.

Outside, I watch Hyde gently swing the paper bag, and I smile to myself. “Finish all your shopping already, then?”

“Yes.” Hyde smiles in answer. “And you?”

“Not yet, no. But, it’s fine.” I let my feet take me a few steps down the sidewalk, out of the way of the other shoppers bustling about. “For the time being.”

“Shall we go for a cup of coffee, then?” I ask quietly.

Hyde, his head lost in clouds amidst dreams, nods vaguely. I doubt he really heard, though he walks after me.

“There’s probably one around here…it seems like there’s a coffee shop on every corner here.” I add, waiting for him to catch up to me.

Hyde nods absently, and we walk together down the road.

The early evening light is like a soft glow, gently falling over the city and its inhabitants. All around me others walk as though in a trance, oblivious to the delicate beauty draped over their shoulders. I gaze at the clouded sky for a long moment, until I return my eyes to the sidewalk before me.

Hyde takes a step, and then another, not realizing that my feet have stalled. I tilt my head and smile softly. As I stand still, remembering a night several years ago, Hyde walks on, not even noticing the growing distance between us. Of course, his head must be full of family these days...no need to consider drifting friends.

At last, I move my wooden feet forward, and slowly catch up to my friend. Even if he wanders away from time to time, I will always find him again.

“Hyde...” I call, reaching out a hand to hold him closer.

He smiles softly, moving me away so gently. “We’ve arrived.”

Opening the door with a flourish, Hyde steps inside without another word. His dark eyes twinkle from behind tinted lenses, and just as I realize how far apart we’ve drifted, the door swings closed.

I take a small breath, and go forward.

---

tbc…

Thoughts?

[On to the next.]