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It's Only Life	By : XLiebeX Category: > Kyo/Kaoru Views: 1006 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction! I do not know Dir en grey, and I do not profit from these writings.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2

It was incredibly hot after the show. Maybe it was less hot than it was muggy and humid. Like the air had hands… Sticky, irritating hands that pressed down on you until you felt you would go out of your mind before you could get out of your clothes. I had wasted no time doing that, even undoing what I had worn onstage as I was leaving, as soon as my guitar was handed off to someone. Soon enough, I’d felt sufficiently cooled and been able to change into fresh clothes.

Now I wore a white, short-sleeved button-up shirt, loose faded jeans, and black boots. The final touch was dark-tinted sunglasses over my eyes. I felt almost normal, not as if I was one of the members of Dir en grey. Like I could assimilate with anyone in any club or bar and not be noticed for any reason; which is my goal this evening.

Back when the band first formed, when we had our first taste of fame and celebrity, the clubs were small and not exactly well known. How quickly things had changed once we made it big. It went from bar-hopping to being VIP— what a change that was. Through that transition, not much had changed… Well, maybe a few things. We used to be rowdy and frankly, obnoxious, but with more time, we had mellowed and the time in the clubs and bars after the show became wind-down time. There are some nights when I wish that one of us would do something outrageous and annoying to make everyone stop and wonder what was going on.

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We arrive at the club and file out… Die, Shinya, Toshiya, Kyo, and finally, myself. The air outside is still oppressive and I am eager to get indoors where it should be cooler. As we go up past the bouncer, and file into the establishment, I survey the others. Die is pestering Shinya, our drummer squirming and telling a laughing Die to stop touching him and begging Toshiya for help. I smile, knowing that Shinya doesn’t want help, and Die doesn’t want to stop.

Then I realize that I’ve overlooked Kyo. I turn my head and look for him and spot him a bit separated from us, which isn’t unlike him, but I always have a soft spot for him and how he feels. We are shown to a secluded area, but looking at the way Toshiya, Shinya, and Die, are acting, I don’t see the majority of us staying there long. Die and Totchi waste no time in ordering drinks, laughing and chattering. Kyo, however, isn’t so animated. He stretches out on his stomach on the wrap-around couch that circles the table, his head on his arms.

“Kyo— come on, get up, and have a drink with us!” Toshiya calls to the smaller man.

All he gets as response from Kyo is a prompt middle finger.

“Okay, fine,” Totchi laughs and tugs a protesting Shinya out of the booth with him and toward the dance floor. Shinya pulls and tries to jerk himself free of the bassist, but with no luck. He soon finds himself being forced to dance with Totchi, whose laughter I can only see and not hear from this distance.

I smile and say, “Die, I think you should get out there quickly— Totchi’s making moves on Shinya.”

Die flips me off and laughs. He knows that I know how he feels about Shinya, and at times, I use it against him, much to his annoyance. I meet eyes with the other guitarist and shift my gaze to Kyo, leading Die to follow my path. He gets an “oh” expression, and slides out of the booth, understanding that I want to be alone with our singer.

A moment passes and neither Kyo nor I make a sound. In a fashion very unlike me, for it is too childish for my age, I manage to slip down and sit on the carpeted floor next to Kyo, my head dangerously close to the bottom of the table, which disgusts me on some level. He seems to be in a foul mood, but I dare to lean my head back onto his side. With my ear so close to him, I can hear the vague gurgling of his stomach and each of his breaths, but not his heart.

“Kyo…” I start, hesitantly, trying not to aggravate him.

He says nothing for a long time, and I resign myself to the fact that he is probably not going to talk tonight. I have seen this before in him. It starts gently, maybe like he’s simply tired… then, it escalates to a full-fledged sorrow. It’s never something anyone wants to be around, and that’s just how Kyo would have it. He would rather weather it out by himself than risk someone else seeing something, some part of him, he doesn’t want them to.

“Kaoru…” he responds in the same tone I used, faintly mocking.

“Are you alright?” Another long silence where the only thing I hear is his slow, constant breathing amplified by my proximity. He started to talk, at least. It’s more progress than I could have hoped for.

“I’m always alright,” Kyo murmurs and one of my ears receives the words as a muffled phrase.

“That’s bullshit, Kyo,” I say bluntly. I know there is something wrong. Kyo knows, too, even if he is unsure of what exactly the cause is.

“I know.” Finally, I garner an admission from Kyo.

“What’s wrong?” Tonight, I seem to be pushing the set limits with our vocalist. Usually, it pays off to leave well enough alone where Kyo is concerned, but that’s the issue. I am concerned. Damn it, he is being quiet again, deathly so.

“Lonely,” Kyo says, at last, in a soft voice that is barely audible to me over the noise in the establishment. For a moment, I even question whether he said it; maybe I thought it up so that I might have some sort of explanation for me to work with. Perfectionist that I am, I must fix everything. I try to search for words, but he speaks before I can find them. “All the time; nothing helps.”

Another blunt, soul-rending statement is given to me to add to the night’s cache of things gone wrong. I press my lips together, everything falling in line for me suddenly. Kyo and Toshiya had been an item for a while, albeit, a low-key item. When it had ended, things had not been pretty. Not that there was a big falling out or scandal… it had simply deteriorated. Totchi and Kyo are still decent friends, but Kyo had retreated into himself quite a bit after it. Apparently it had hurt him more than he showed or cared to let on.

He exhales deeply; it’s a sound that confuses me and makes me unsure if it is a noise of exasperation or sadness. Still at a loss, I scoot closer half-way on my knees and rest my arm around his shoulders as best I can, pressing the side of my dark head to his blonde one. He moves slightly and I’m shocked to see tears shining on his face in the dim light. Those tears do me in. I reach awkwardly for his face, overcome with concern and mutual melancholy, my guitar-roughened fingertips doing their best to wipe his cheeks from our clashing positions. Kyo pulls away from me, sitting up, and I move from my place under the table to be next to him before he tries to leave. He can’t leave—not without me, at least.

Some new-found boldness pushes me forward, filling me with emotion that I am all too ready to express all of a sudden. This feeling of recklessness is new to me as I reach and grasp Kyo’s hand with mine. But I know that this is my chance, on some level, inside of me. This forward action earns me a skeptical, surprised look. “Come with me,” I say to him, “Back to the hotel.”

He just stares at me.
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