Gravitation: Aizawa Taki
Title: The Downward Spiral
Pairing: Aizawa Taki x Shindou Shuichi (hate)
Rating: R
Warnings: Strong language and violent tendencies.
Word Count: 1411
Summary: Taki self-destructs under pressure and envy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation nor its characters. They belong to Maki Murakami.
Listening in the sound tech’s booth as Taki belted out their most popular single, Ma-kun winced as he hit another sour note. It was bad enough that the singer’s suave voice had taken on a ragged edge since last week. Now, two flops in the one-hour session - normal and acceptable for most singers, but Taki was not “most singers”. Described by the papers as “belonging to a league graced only by a select talented few” (Tokyo Times) and “a sheer aural orgasmic experience” (Rockzone), the vocalist never missed a note. A notorious perfectionist and the epitome of the type-A personality, he often berated his bandmates when they arrived even a minute late or took more than one day to memorize the music sheets.
Despite founding ASK, Ma-kun gladly surrendered the band’s leadership to Taki. Their successes - rocketing from the underground to the forefront of Japan’s music scene - could mostly be attributed to Taki’s stubbornness and sheer determination to be number one. Thus, it was no question why Ma-kun found Taki’s lackluster performance odd.
The song ended. The technician glanced at Ma, waiting for further instruction. Ma looked through the clear fiberglass at Taki. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Ma shook his head and brought his hand down in a decisive chop. The technician nodded.
“Thank you Aizawa-san, good job. Let‘s take a break,” he spoke into the microphone. Taki’s eyes snapped open.
Ma stood and waved at Taki, beckoning him over, and walked to the door to meet the singer.
“Tachi.” He said when Taki stepped out. “What happened?”
“Where?” A sullen smoldering look.
“Inside, weirdo.” Ma rolled his eyes. “You sounded worse than a dying cat in heat.”
Taki grunted.
“Excruciating.” Ma grinned lopsidedly. “Prob’ly you’re just tired. Let’s wrap up, grab a beer, and--”
“I’m not tired!” Taki exploded. In the small outer booth, his voice boomed. The technician glanced at them, startled, then just as quickly ducked his head, fiddling with the dials of the synthesizer in front of him.
Ma-kun put his hands up in front of his chest. “Whoah man. Don’t bite my head off. I’m just saying.” He peered at Taki. Bloodshot eyes glowered back. “Seriously, you were off in there. You okay?”
“I’m fine, if you stop your idiotic questions,” Taki spat. “Leave me alone.”
Taken aback, Ma-kun stepped back as the singer stalked past, making a beeline for the lounge across the room and flipping the television on. Hunched in front of the TV, Taki channel-surfed with a deep scowl on his face. The look on his face was positively murderous.
Steeling himself, Ma headed for the lounge. He had known Taki all his life and knew better than to approach the singer in one of his black moods but this couldn’t be helped. The concert was only three days away.
Opening the small corner refrigerator, Ma took out two cans of orange soda. “Hey Tachi, catch.” He casually tossed one to Taki, whose gaze remained fixed on the television. The can grazed his hand and dropped to the floor. Ma-kun rolled his eyes.
“You dweeb, you were supposed to catch that.” He flopped onto the couch beside Taki.
Taki gave him a sidelong glance. “Who asked for your stupid soda? I’ll get it when I want it.” His eyes flashed.
“Boy, someone’s in a shit mood.” Ma popped the can open and took a deep draught, turning his gaze to the television.
Taki had settled on a hilarious old game show called Takeshi’s Castle. On the screen,a girl tried to cross a rope bridgewhile dodging giant foam cannonballs. She was halfway across when one hit her on the shoulder. She staggered and tottered precariously before falling off, arms flailing as she splashed in the water below. Ma slapped his thigh as he guffawed. “Oh snap, Tachi, did you see that? What the fuck are those behemoth cheering samurai on the riverbank? It’s so stupid!”
Taki didn’t reply.
Deflating, Ma stole a glance at him. Something was wrong. It wasn’t only that Taki didn’t have a smart comeback ready. He looked unwell too. His face was pale. Dark half-moons ringed under his eyes. A tic throbbed over his left eye. And the hand gripping the remote so tight the knuckles were white - that hand would not stop trembling.
Concerned, he moved close to Taki, whose gaze never shifted from the screen.
“Hey man.” He put a tentative hand on the singer’s shoulder. “I know I’m pushing it, but I’m worried. Haven‘t been sleeping well lately?”
Finally Taki turned. He met Ma’s gaze with a narrow, appraising look. Ma arched an eyebrow in question but held his tongue. After a long moment Taki blinked and his face melted into a sardonic smile. “Bingo. You win the grand prize.”
Ma relaxed. It was good to see him smile, even sarcastically. “Well…care to tell me about it?” He grinned. “Wait, lemme guess. That model dumped you again, eh? I tell you, don‘t lose sleep over those skanks. They‘re a dime a dozen.”
Instead of sharing the humor, Taki’s mouth tightened with that calculating stare again. Finally, he barked a short laugh and stood up. “Boy, you don’t get it. You honestly don’t fuckin’ get it! I can see it in your eyes. Blonds sure are dumb.”
Ma stood as well, heart fluttering in anxiety. He could care less for that laugh. Only homeless bums and crazy people could laugh like that. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Right in front of your face, Ma-kun. Can’t you see it? Are you blind as well as dumb?” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Fuckin’ retard. That two-bit whore, I‘m going to kill him.”
“Tachi!” Ma grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Oi! You’re creeping me out. What the fuck’s wrong with you!”
Just then, Takeshi’s Castle cut to a commercial. A familiar upbeat song blasted out the speakers - Japan’s number one hit, “Rage Beat” by Bad Luck. Played nonstop on MTV and a couple of dozen times on every radio station everyday.
Taki’s head jerked towards the TV. His face flushed a dull brick red and his eyes bulged in anger. With a strangled cry he twisted out of Ma-kun’s grasp and hurled the remote control at the screen. It broke open and fell to the floor in a mess of plastic and batteries. He lunged at an abandoned coffee mug on the side table and pitched it at Shindou Shuichi’s smiling face. As it exploded in shards, a thin crack snaked across the screen. He kicked the television stand. It toppled, shattering the TV on the floor. He was stomping on the twisted remains when Ma-kun tackled him, driving him into the floor. His head whiplashed into the concrete and pain flared high enough to send stars across his vision. The sound tech hurried out of his booth, saw the commotion and broken television, and rushed for the telephone, punching in Security’s number.
“Hey! Hey!” Ma shouted in his face. “Are you fuckin’ insane! What’s wrong with you? If you --”
“Shut up!” Taki roared hoarsely. “Just shut up, shut up, shut up!” He struggled wildly under Ma-kun and managed to push him off. When Ma-kun moved to restrain him again, he threw a wild punch, connecting with Ma’s mouth. Taki straddled Ma and gripped his shirt tight, shaking him. Ma’s tongue flicked out and tasted blood on his lips. He stared at Taki in shock.
“I’ve worked so fuckin hard to get where I am now! Right here, right fuckin now! No one fed me anything from a fuckin silver spoon and coddled me through this fuckin shit business! I sing my throat raw and work my fingers to the bone only to end up behind this lowlife fuckin talentless scum who gets everything for nothing! Motherfucker! Who does he think he is anyway?!”
Taki pulled Ma’s shirt closer till their faces were mere inches apart.
“I’ll kill that shit, if it’s the last thing I do.” He pushed Ma away and jumped off. The blond’s head hit the floor hard. Just then, burly black-suited men entered and moved towards them. Ma waved them back and they stopped, confused.
“Taki! Oi Taki! Where are you going?!”
The singer had rushed out of the room, unmolested by security.
Ma sat up, rubbing his head. A premonition of doom overcame him as he watched the door slowly swing shut.
- end -
Author's Note: Exploring Taki's twisted psyche was a challenge to write. :) But I enjoyed it a lot. I love Tachi to death :)
Pairing: Aizawa Taki x Shindou Shuichi (hate)
Rating: R
Warnings: Strong language and violent tendencies.
Word Count: 1411
Summary: Taki self-destructs under pressure and envy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation nor its characters. They belong to Maki Murakami.
Listening in the sound tech’s booth as Taki belted out their most popular single, Ma-kun winced as he hit another sour note. It was bad enough that the singer’s suave voice had taken on a ragged edge since last week. Now, two flops in the one-hour session - normal and acceptable for most singers, but Taki was not “most singers”. Described by the papers as “belonging to a league graced only by a select talented few” (Tokyo Times) and “a sheer aural orgasmic experience” (Rockzone), the vocalist never missed a note. A notorious perfectionist and the epitome of the type-A personality, he often berated his bandmates when they arrived even a minute late or took more than one day to memorize the music sheets.
Despite founding ASK, Ma-kun gladly surrendered the band’s leadership to Taki. Their successes - rocketing from the underground to the forefront of Japan’s music scene - could mostly be attributed to Taki’s stubbornness and sheer determination to be number one. Thus, it was no question why Ma-kun found Taki’s lackluster performance odd.
The song ended. The technician glanced at Ma, waiting for further instruction. Ma looked through the clear fiberglass at Taki. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Ma shook his head and brought his hand down in a decisive chop. The technician nodded.
“Thank you Aizawa-san, good job. Let‘s take a break,” he spoke into the microphone. Taki’s eyes snapped open.
Ma stood and waved at Taki, beckoning him over, and walked to the door to meet the singer.
“Tachi.” He said when Taki stepped out. “What happened?”
“Where?” A sullen smoldering look.
“Inside, weirdo.” Ma rolled his eyes. “You sounded worse than a dying cat in heat.”
Taki grunted.
“Excruciating.” Ma grinned lopsidedly. “Prob’ly you’re just tired. Let’s wrap up, grab a beer, and--”
“I’m not tired!” Taki exploded. In the small outer booth, his voice boomed. The technician glanced at them, startled, then just as quickly ducked his head, fiddling with the dials of the synthesizer in front of him.
Ma-kun put his hands up in front of his chest. “Whoah man. Don’t bite my head off. I’m just saying.” He peered at Taki. Bloodshot eyes glowered back. “Seriously, you were off in there. You okay?”
“I’m fine, if you stop your idiotic questions,” Taki spat. “Leave me alone.”
Taken aback, Ma-kun stepped back as the singer stalked past, making a beeline for the lounge across the room and flipping the television on. Hunched in front of the TV, Taki channel-surfed with a deep scowl on his face. The look on his face was positively murderous.
Steeling himself, Ma headed for the lounge. He had known Taki all his life and knew better than to approach the singer in one of his black moods but this couldn’t be helped. The concert was only three days away.
Opening the small corner refrigerator, Ma took out two cans of orange soda. “Hey Tachi, catch.” He casually tossed one to Taki, whose gaze remained fixed on the television. The can grazed his hand and dropped to the floor. Ma-kun rolled his eyes.
“You dweeb, you were supposed to catch that.” He flopped onto the couch beside Taki.
Taki gave him a sidelong glance. “Who asked for your stupid soda? I’ll get it when I want it.” His eyes flashed.
“Boy, someone’s in a shit mood.” Ma popped the can open and took a deep draught, turning his gaze to the television.
Taki had settled on a hilarious old game show called Takeshi’s Castle. On the screen,a girl tried to cross a rope bridgewhile dodging giant foam cannonballs. She was halfway across when one hit her on the shoulder. She staggered and tottered precariously before falling off, arms flailing as she splashed in the water below. Ma slapped his thigh as he guffawed. “Oh snap, Tachi, did you see that? What the fuck are those behemoth cheering samurai on the riverbank? It’s so stupid!”
Taki didn’t reply.
Deflating, Ma stole a glance at him. Something was wrong. It wasn’t only that Taki didn’t have a smart comeback ready. He looked unwell too. His face was pale. Dark half-moons ringed under his eyes. A tic throbbed over his left eye. And the hand gripping the remote so tight the knuckles were white - that hand would not stop trembling.
Concerned, he moved close to Taki, whose gaze never shifted from the screen.
“Hey man.” He put a tentative hand on the singer’s shoulder. “I know I’m pushing it, but I’m worried. Haven‘t been sleeping well lately?”
Finally Taki turned. He met Ma’s gaze with a narrow, appraising look. Ma arched an eyebrow in question but held his tongue. After a long moment Taki blinked and his face melted into a sardonic smile. “Bingo. You win the grand prize.”
Ma relaxed. It was good to see him smile, even sarcastically. “Well…care to tell me about it?” He grinned. “Wait, lemme guess. That model dumped you again, eh? I tell you, don‘t lose sleep over those skanks. They‘re a dime a dozen.”
Instead of sharing the humor, Taki’s mouth tightened with that calculating stare again. Finally, he barked a short laugh and stood up. “Boy, you don’t get it. You honestly don’t fuckin’ get it! I can see it in your eyes. Blonds sure are dumb.”
Ma stood as well, heart fluttering in anxiety. He could care less for that laugh. Only homeless bums and crazy people could laugh like that. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Right in front of your face, Ma-kun. Can’t you see it? Are you blind as well as dumb?” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Fuckin’ retard. That two-bit whore, I‘m going to kill him.”
“Tachi!” Ma grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Oi! You’re creeping me out. What the fuck’s wrong with you!”
Just then, Takeshi’s Castle cut to a commercial. A familiar upbeat song blasted out the speakers - Japan’s number one hit, “Rage Beat” by Bad Luck. Played nonstop on MTV and a couple of dozen times on every radio station everyday.
Taki’s head jerked towards the TV. His face flushed a dull brick red and his eyes bulged in anger. With a strangled cry he twisted out of Ma-kun’s grasp and hurled the remote control at the screen. It broke open and fell to the floor in a mess of plastic and batteries. He lunged at an abandoned coffee mug on the side table and pitched it at Shindou Shuichi’s smiling face. As it exploded in shards, a thin crack snaked across the screen. He kicked the television stand. It toppled, shattering the TV on the floor. He was stomping on the twisted remains when Ma-kun tackled him, driving him into the floor. His head whiplashed into the concrete and pain flared high enough to send stars across his vision. The sound tech hurried out of his booth, saw the commotion and broken television, and rushed for the telephone, punching in Security’s number.
“Hey! Hey!” Ma shouted in his face. “Are you fuckin’ insane! What’s wrong with you? If you --”
“Shut up!” Taki roared hoarsely. “Just shut up, shut up, shut up!” He struggled wildly under Ma-kun and managed to push him off. When Ma-kun moved to restrain him again, he threw a wild punch, connecting with Ma’s mouth. Taki straddled Ma and gripped his shirt tight, shaking him. Ma’s tongue flicked out and tasted blood on his lips. He stared at Taki in shock.
“I’ve worked so fuckin hard to get where I am now! Right here, right fuckin now! No one fed me anything from a fuckin silver spoon and coddled me through this fuckin shit business! I sing my throat raw and work my fingers to the bone only to end up behind this lowlife fuckin talentless scum who gets everything for nothing! Motherfucker! Who does he think he is anyway?!”
Taki pulled Ma’s shirt closer till their faces were mere inches apart.
“I’ll kill that shit, if it’s the last thing I do.” He pushed Ma away and jumped off. The blond’s head hit the floor hard. Just then, burly black-suited men entered and moved towards them. Ma waved them back and they stopped, confused.
“Taki! Oi Taki! Where are you going?!”
The singer had rushed out of the room, unmolested by security.
Ma sat up, rubbing his head. A premonition of doom overcame him as he watched the door slowly swing shut.
- end -
Author's Note: Exploring Taki's twisted psyche was a challenge to write. :) But I enjoyed it a lot. I love Tachi to death :)