Chapter 14 - Part Two
*
Standing across the room, Atsushi shot a glance over his shoulder at Imai, who remained sitting on the couch with an odd look on his face, before quickly turning away and pretending to pay attention to whoever was talking to him.
Atsushi felt like a total jackass. But he couldn’t help acting like that. He couldn’t talk to Imai right now, and avoiding him was the best way to make sure of that. He was afraid of what Imai would say to him-he would openly admit that to anyone, even himself. He…didn’t want to know. Naively he hoped that if he ignored it that it would go away…but it never worked that way.
Just…later. He would deal with it…later.
He hadn’t been unkind to Imai, not intentionally at any rate. All of this wasn’t the other man’s fault…not really. Through experience Atsushi had learned that such feeling were never anyone’s fault, in theory. The actions were, not the feelings.
So far all Imai had done was get jealous, curse Atsushi out, and then call him and leave embarrassing messages while drunk. All in one night. Not a very good start for…well, anything.
Someone asked Atsushi a question then and he was forced out of his thoughts to answer them. After that it was time for the normal rush up to show time, a familiar blur of last minute details that always seemed to push Atsushi to the back curtain before he knew it.
There they all mingled, waiting. Imai sat as far away from Atsushi as he could and, to Atsushi as least, it was plainly obvious that he was being fastidiously ignored by the other man. How quickly the tide change, Atsushi thought, dourly. He really shouldn’t feel so…put-out, and he was very surprised that he did so. He had been the one ignoring Imai before…and…
Atsushi told himself to shut up. He was acting like a moody, spited woman and he didn’t like it. That thought just made him angry-at himself, at the situation, and, for the moment, at life.
Imai seemed to be sulking too, or at least he was adding to the tension in the air in some way, because the other three seemed to finally be picking up on it. U-ta kept giving both Atsushi and Imai tiny glances, while Toll began to complain about how stuffy it was backstage.
Unlucky Hide was standing right between Imai and Atsushi in the small space and looked distinctly uncomfortable after a while. He didn’t move, though, as if he instinctively knew to act as a buffer.
When at last the cue came, both Toll and U-ta cast dubious looks around before heading out. As his turn came up, Hide paused before saying, quietly, “I’ll see you guys out there.”
Then it was just Atsushi and Imai. Well, they were as alone as they could be with staff bustling around like bees at the hive. But Atsushi was distinctly aware of the fact Imai wasn’t looking at him, while at the same time Atsushi wasn’t looking at him, and…they really were acting like a bunch of children, weren’t they?
Atsushi sighed. The noise sounded quiet to him, but apparently Imai heard him because he turned around then to look at Atsushi for the first time in the past hour or so. He didn’t say anything at first. The two just gazed at one another and Atsushi was shocked to find his heart starting to pound in nervous anticipation. In that moment he was certain that Imai was going to say something-something that would turn Atsushi’s whole night-whole life maybe-upside down.
When he spoke Imai’s voice was a low murmur barely heard over the cheering crowd. “Adam talked to me last night.”
That did it. Everything stopped for Atsushi and all he could do was stare at Imai in pale-faced shock.
“Imai-san! Imai-san, your cue!” Someone hollered and Imai was on his feet and gone before Atsushi could think of anything to say. Not that he would have been able to. He felt as if his entire body had been drenched in cold water. Adam had…so Imai knew… He…
“Sakurai-san, are you feeling all right?” Ariwara had appeared out of nowhere and was standing in front of him. He had an extremely worried look on his face as he bent over Atsushi, who was sitting. “You look really pale. Are you sure you can go out there?”
Atsushi nodded dumbly at first, but then, coming back to himself, his nodded once more, resolute. “I’m fine.” He stood up, making Ariwara have to back up quickly. “Don’t worry about it, Ariwara-san,” he told the other man, trying to sound confident.
That confidence didn’t last long. Atsushi found himself faced with one of the worst shows he’d ever performed so far this tour. Even the one last night was so much better than this. He just couldn’t seem to get anything right, and by the time the first break came, he was ready to tear his own hair out.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Hide said to him, quick to wrap an arm around Atsushi’s shoulders as he sat hunched over and pouting in the dark. That gesture didn’t help. All it did was prove that everyone else had noticed it too.
Atsushi buried his face in his hands, sure that he was smearing what was left of his melted makeup as he did so. “I’m terrible,” he muttered into his palms. He didn’t whine, he didn’t blame it on someone else… It was just the truth. He was terrible.
“That cheering crowd out there doesn’t think so,” Hide reminded him. Indeed, the crowd was very loud beyond the curtain, but all that did was make Atsushi feel worse.
“They’re just hoping that I come out better for the encore,” he grumbled. Either that or they enjoyed watching him look frustrated with himself. Only a few seconds after thinking that, Atsushi flushed, embarrassed at being so cynical. His bad mood was overflowing everywhere it seemed.
Hide didn’t know what to say to Atsushi’s comment. He just squeezed Atsushi’s shoulders again, like he would to a young kid brother who was down. Atsushi appreciated the attempt at comfort, even if it really wasn’t helping. He remained hunched over in the dark, as close to being in a ball as he could be while sitting with Hide’s arm around him. He refused to look at anyone else, although he felt more than one pair of eyes on him.
Soon it was time to go back out. Hide gave him one last squeeze before getting up. Atsushi let his hands fall into his lap and stared at them for a moment before curling them into determined fists. He would get through this. He’d done it before.
He was just about to surge to his feet, but he noticed the person standing in front of him just in time to stop the eminent collision.
Atsushi stared up at Imai, who looked down at him with an unreadable expression. Then, almost as if Imai would have stopped himself if he didn’t act quickly, the other man reached out and pulled Atsushi forward. It was only a partial hug, Imai’s arms around Atsushi’s upper back and Atsushi’s cheek pressed against Imai’s abdomen. “Sorry,” Atsushi heard Imai whisper over all the noise around them.
“Not your fault,” Atsushi mumbled into the leather of Imai’s shirt. He supposed he should be feeling awkward right now, but he was just too tired to do so. He was just tired of everything…
The hug didn’t last very long. Apparently Imai was feeling uncomfortable enough for the two of them, and he pushed Atsushi away just as the other man was thinking to close his eyes and relax a little. “I…” Imai started, when someone called his name again. He took a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to Atsushi to say, seriously. “We need to talk.”
Atsushi nodded, feeling bereft and numb all over again. “I guess so.”
“But not now.”
“Of course not.”
“Imai-san!” One of the roadies called out. Imai barely glanced at him this time, his attention on Atsushi.
Atsushi managed to scrounge up the dregs of a smile. “Later, hmm?”
Imai pressed his lips together resolutely and nodded. “Yeah. Later.” He hesitated a long moment, not looking away from Atsushi’s face until someone else called his name and he was forced to turn around and leave.
The smile Atsushi had found faded away instantly. He didn’t feel any better at all, despite Imai’s rather valiant attempt to break through the…whatever it was between them.
“Sakurai-san…” The same roadie from before called, hesitantly.
Atsushi closed his eyes, took a steadying breath, and then rose to his feet. His foot protested a bit, but he knew that would go away as he started moving more.
The rest of the night was just as bad as it had started. As the last song slowly came to an end, Atsushi couldn’t get off the stage fast enough. Grabbing the towel from a roadie, he used it to wipe off, and then stayed hidden behind it, pressing the rough cotton against his face as he leaned back against a nearby wall. After a while he heard the others start to come off stage too.
No one said anything to him. Atsushi could sense a few people hovering around him, most likely wondering if they should disturb him or not, but no one did. Not even Chiba said a word, although Atsushi could hear him talking nearby.
At long last, when Atsushi no longer felt the urge to either scream or cry, he lowered the towel and looked around. His eyes were dry and sore and he blinked a few times. He didn’t notice he was holding the towel in a stranglehold until one of the roadies tried to take it away from him.
“Ah, sorry,” he mumbled dumbly, relinquishing his hold. The roadie just gave him what he probably thought was a discreet questioning look before disappearing into the crowd.
Atsushi suddenly had the craziest urge to stick his tongue out at him. It was simply idiotic…but he laughed. That got him a few more less than discreet looks, but he didn’t care.
Leaving the dark area behind the curtain he fought his way through the bustling crowd to the back dressing room, where he could hear murmuring voices. He paused outside the doorway and could hear Hide asking Imai in exasperated tones “exactly what did you do now?”
“Nothing!” Imai insisted. “I told you that!”
“Then did he do something to you?” Hide asked, sounding skeptical.
Atsushi leaned forward, suddenly very interested in-afraid of- what Imai would say…
“No, he didn’t do anything to me. I don’t see the purpose of this inquisition,” Imai said, sounding distinctly pouty.
“We’re worried, that’s all. There’s something going on between the two of you and-”
“Oh, Sakurai-san, there you are!”
Atsushi nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud voice. Looking up timidly, he saw Hiraki-san, the man in charge of the promotional gifts they always received at venues. He had popped his head out of the door to the room next door, but he shouted his greeting as if Atsushi was on another continent.
That shut up whatever conversation was happening in the other room.
“Ah, yes, hello,” Atsushi stumbled to say, hurrying over to Hiraki to make it look like he hadn’t been by the door before either Hide or Imai poked his head out to see what was going on. He was sure that would be happening any second.
“Weirdest thing,” Hiraki was saying, completely oblivious to Atsushi’s guilt-filled agitation. “I was moving some of the flowers before the show and hidden behind the bouquet from Victor I found a box addressed to you,” he emphasized the ‘you’ by shoving one of his chubby fingers in Atsushi’s direction.
“Me?” Atsushi asked, his brow furrowed. That was weird. Normally all promotional gifts were to the band. “Who is it from?”
“I have no idea,” Hiraki said with a shrug. “No return address. Just your name. I’m wondering if some fan might have bribed the delivery guy to bring it in…”
Atsushi wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a mysterious box. “What did you do with it?” he asked, his voice coming out choked as his heart hammered in his throat. It could be as Hiraki said…but…then again, it could be something else entirely. Perhaps…perhaps it was something else from Tsukino? Or…or…
“Well, I asked Chiba-san about it, and he said you might as well open it since it’s here.”
“Is that really a good idea?” Atsushi asked, nervously. “Can’t we just throw it away…?”
“Throw is away? But it’s a gift!” Hiraki gestured with his arm for Atsushi to follow him. He was completely blind to Atsushi’s reluctance. “C’mon, I wanna see what it is. I’m curious.”
Atsushi didn’t move. “Why don’t you open it?” he tried again, desperate. Somehow he knew that he did not want to see this box…
The dream he had the other morning flashed through his mind. Dark red eyes, the bloody box…But that was just a dream…
“But it’s addressed to you?” Hiraki sounded confused. “You always open your fan mail.”
Atsushi unwittingly glanced over his shoulder then and saw that all four of his band mates were now clustered in the doorway.
“Why are you afraid of a package?” U-ta asked, while Imai, although his face was blank, was chewing on his bottom lip, a typical unsettled gesture on his part.
“Well, mysterious packages aren’t always a good thing for famous people,” Toll said, philosophically. “There are a lot of weirdoes out there.”
You don’t know the half of it, Atsushi thought darkly.
“Just toss it out,” Imai spoke up suddenly. He was staring at Atsushi intently. “Doesn’t matter what it is.”
“What, are you afraid it’s a bomb?” Hide asked, in all seriousness.
“I sure as hell hope not,” Toll remarked. “Since it’s been sitting here all damn night.”
Atsushi was about to reply to at least one of them, when all of a sudden something was thrust into his arms and he was forced to look to the front again. One of the roadies who must have worked with Hiraki was there, dusting her hands off in satisfaction. His eyes barely skimmed over her, however, because they soon became riveted on the rather heavy box in his hands. It was about the size of the box a rice cooker would come in and he wondering for a brief, insane moment if that was what it was. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, and, sure enough, on it was scrawled his name.
It wasn’t the careful writing that had been on the letters, but Atsushi still didn’t like it…
“Go on, open it!” Hiraki crowed, getting far too much enjoyment out of the mystery. “I wonder if it’s chocolates…” he mused.
“He shouldn’t eat them if they were,” the woman remarked. She looked expectantly up at Atsushi. “Go ahead, Sakurai-san. We’ve been curious all night.”
Atsushi continued to stare in slowly creeping dismay at the box in his hands. A voice was screaming in the back of his mind that this was not a good thing-not a good thing at all.
“I…just throw it out,” Atsushi insisted in a shaky voice, shoving the package back into the woman’s arms. He didn’t miss her disappointed expression. “I…don’t care what it is.”
“And here I thought you cared what your fans made for you,” she muttered. Her voice was low, but Atsushi still heard her. Apparently so did Hiraki, because he grimaced but didn’t call her on it.
“If you don’t care to open it, I’ll do it,” the woman said at the same time she ripped the brown paper open even as Atsushi said, “No, don’t-”
Inside was a Styrofoam box. “Huh,” she said, balancing the bottom of the container on one palm while she used her fingers to pry the lid open.
Atsushi found himself backing away despite himself. He wasn’t able to get far before she got it open…
...and she promptly screamed, the box falling from her hands to smash against the floor, a splatter of red-black liquid flying everywhere. She brought her hands up to cover her face in horror. No one had to ask her what she saw though, because as the box hit whatever it was came tumbling out and rolled to a wet, squelching halt at Atsushi’s feet.
It felt as if all the life was just sucked straight out of him as Atsushi gazed down at his supposed gift. It was a mass of putrefying gray flesh, streaked red with blood. He recognized the shape…how anyone could equate such a shape with love he would never understand…
Voices were screaming all around him, but Atsushi could only stand and stare blankly at the…at the heart laying on the floor at his feet. As he watched in horror, a few drops of blood dripped from the severed artery to land with the rest of the red slime on the floor.
Atsushi would later reflect on his thoughts in this moment and be rather shocked at their clarity. Instead of freaking out like he would expect, his mind was fixed on only one thing.
He knew who'd done this. It could only be one person…only one monster who would have even considered it.
There was only one demented soul that would give Atsushi a still-cooling heart as a sign of love.
Diederick Baum.
A/N:
Here we go, stepping out of the comfort zone of angsty drama. I’ve had the basis of that last scene in my head since pianolessdevil wrote her one horror fiction and we had a short discussion in my journal about Atsushi getting eyeballs in a box… Well, it’s not quite eyeballs…
So, here’s the main villain, telling you all not to forget about him.
I’m still not very happy with this chapter, but whatever. That’s what the main edit will be for! (If I ever do that…)
Crap, I want to continue on tonight, but it’s bedtime….
Notes:
*Yokoyama is one of B-T’s long time manipulators that Imai did an interview (or a few?) with and Yokoyama mentions Imai calling him at all hours.
** This idea is based on the concept of Japanese tending to use names/titles instead of the word “you”. But since Atsushi doesn’t remember her name, he can’t use it, so he has to settle. It’s not translatable into English really… But I just liked the thought in between there, so I kept the part in. XD I have to amuse myself somehow. lol.