Fic-Yoshiki/hide
Title: Ray of Light
Pairing: Yoshiki/hide (X Japan)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own X Japan or its members.
Warnings: Angst, mild language
A/N: dedicated to anyone who has lost a loved one.
The grass crunching beneath his feet was the only sound heard within a 10 mile radius, no birds, no chirping of animals of any kind. Even the trees stood lifeless, everything around him frozen in time and he was surprised how it was still possible for his legs to carry him to his intended destination when he felt even his own energy drain out of him.
But unbeknownst to him, the heart is capable of many things.
He brought his long coat tighter around himself, not so much because of the biting cold but because of how eerily quiet this place could be. Well he supposed it was only natural for a cemetery. Any other environment just wouldn’t do for the bodies that would forever lie in eternal slumber. He wasn’t alone either, in the corner of his shades he was able to make out another familiar form with long black hair and dark attire, crouched low and lost deep in thought in front of another tomb that he recognized as well, but wasn’t who he came to see.
If it had been anyone else, he would probably put in a special request to have the place to himself, but the visitors to that one tomb, the only visitor it seemed, was a regular and he supposed he would just let him be. He would pay his respects to that tomb and its long-haired visitor on his way out; he had to, for it belonged to another special person recognized for his talents behind the drums, also lost to tragedy. But for now…his dearest was waiting for him.
And he found him shining so brightly that it hurt his eyes, just like the smiles that always used to captivate him, only that the white marble was missing the ridiculous pink hair that his friend always paraded around in, and was later made into his signature accessory.
He found himself smiling unconsciously at the memories as his eyes traced over the lettering on the block of marble. He shook his head slowly.
“Idiot…” he mumbled softly, for making him smile and hurt at the same time. He reached down and carefully placed a batch of white roses against the tombstone, and he soon found himself lulled into the paleness of the petals against the sparkling white of the marble, and the grayness all around. It was all wrong, his friend never liked monochrome, but that was exactly how his world turned the day he lost him.
He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his stiff neck and rolling his head around. What else is he to say, he was never good at these things, which was funny considering his profession and leadership skills. With his bands, with work, there was always something to be said about anything, and he wasn’t one to stay quiet if he felt the need to comment.
But this was not work…this was his friend, who was once considered the closest person ever to him in which to some who are new to working with him, was thought of as impossible. But he was.
He couldn’t see why, its not like he was an insensitive person, he just really knew his business and how he wanted it to be done. It’s just that somewhere down the road, he lost the ability to sympathize, or to even care at all.
And leave it to someone like Gackt to point out that it began around the time of the pink-haired riot’s loss, whether the drummer admitted it to himself or not. But he could hear him now, the taunting, the sneering, the drunken slurs… telling him that he had always been an uptight person, that if he “didn’t take that drumstick out of his ass,” he would give himself an ulcer!
This time a laugh managed to escape his lips…somehow, he always had that affect on him when he could be in the worst of moods.
And it was during those times they were together, from the time he brought him in to his band as lead guitarist, creating X Japan together, and touring the world, and thrashing every hotel they’ve ever stayed in from being so drunk and partying that they’d forget where they were and why they were even overseas for.
It was during those days… did he ever learn to smile, laugh and just plain have fun doing what he loved to do most. It was because of hide that he learned to live.
He was on his knees now; the soggy grass from the winter frost began soaking through the fabric of his pants, but he couldn’t move.
How? Just how is he able to go on being that person still, and now with whole new band and new material and gimmicks to work with, just how is he able to make it through working with these entirely different personas and still come out on top with a smile on his face, without forcing it?
And as if on cue, as if his dearest friend himself was providing the very answer to his question, through the thick blanket of gray that covered the skies a single ray of sunshine somehow made it through casting its warm glow on the few numbers that were etched into the white marble. He lifted his head up just enough to stare at them, letting them burn into his own mind and he smiled sadly, understanding.
He was telling him that he somehow managed without him for 10 years now, that he must be doing something right to have made it this far...
…and he did it on his own, but now he doesn’t have to be.
Despite the cold, the memories and the dead communicating with him from beyond the grave now, his heart felt a little lighter, felt a whole surge of inspiration overwhelm him with ideas for the new band, and that smile stayed plastered on his face for a long moment later, even when he got up to leave with a single tear making its way down one cheek, beneath his shades.
~fin~
also dedicated to my grandfather, whose love for music lives on through my name.
Pairing: Yoshiki/hide (X Japan)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own X Japan or its members.
Warnings: Angst, mild language
A/N: dedicated to anyone who has lost a loved one.
The grass crunching beneath his feet was the only sound heard within a 10 mile radius, no birds, no chirping of animals of any kind. Even the trees stood lifeless, everything around him frozen in time and he was surprised how it was still possible for his legs to carry him to his intended destination when he felt even his own energy drain out of him.
But unbeknownst to him, the heart is capable of many things.
He brought his long coat tighter around himself, not so much because of the biting cold but because of how eerily quiet this place could be. Well he supposed it was only natural for a cemetery. Any other environment just wouldn’t do for the bodies that would forever lie in eternal slumber. He wasn’t alone either, in the corner of his shades he was able to make out another familiar form with long black hair and dark attire, crouched low and lost deep in thought in front of another tomb that he recognized as well, but wasn’t who he came to see.
If it had been anyone else, he would probably put in a special request to have the place to himself, but the visitors to that one tomb, the only visitor it seemed, was a regular and he supposed he would just let him be. He would pay his respects to that tomb and its long-haired visitor on his way out; he had to, for it belonged to another special person recognized for his talents behind the drums, also lost to tragedy. But for now…his dearest was waiting for him.
And he found him shining so brightly that it hurt his eyes, just like the smiles that always used to captivate him, only that the white marble was missing the ridiculous pink hair that his friend always paraded around in, and was later made into his signature accessory.
He found himself smiling unconsciously at the memories as his eyes traced over the lettering on the block of marble. He shook his head slowly.
“Idiot…” he mumbled softly, for making him smile and hurt at the same time. He reached down and carefully placed a batch of white roses against the tombstone, and he soon found himself lulled into the paleness of the petals against the sparkling white of the marble, and the grayness all around. It was all wrong, his friend never liked monochrome, but that was exactly how his world turned the day he lost him.
He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his stiff neck and rolling his head around. What else is he to say, he was never good at these things, which was funny considering his profession and leadership skills. With his bands, with work, there was always something to be said about anything, and he wasn’t one to stay quiet if he felt the need to comment.
But this was not work…this was his friend, who was once considered the closest person ever to him in which to some who are new to working with him, was thought of as impossible. But he was.
He couldn’t see why, its not like he was an insensitive person, he just really knew his business and how he wanted it to be done. It’s just that somewhere down the road, he lost the ability to sympathize, or to even care at all.
And leave it to someone like Gackt to point out that it began around the time of the pink-haired riot’s loss, whether the drummer admitted it to himself or not. But he could hear him now, the taunting, the sneering, the drunken slurs… telling him that he had always been an uptight person, that if he “didn’t take that drumstick out of his ass,” he would give himself an ulcer!
This time a laugh managed to escape his lips…somehow, he always had that affect on him when he could be in the worst of moods.
And it was during those times they were together, from the time he brought him in to his band as lead guitarist, creating X Japan together, and touring the world, and thrashing every hotel they’ve ever stayed in from being so drunk and partying that they’d forget where they were and why they were even overseas for.
It was during those days… did he ever learn to smile, laugh and just plain have fun doing what he loved to do most. It was because of hide that he learned to live.
He was on his knees now; the soggy grass from the winter frost began soaking through the fabric of his pants, but he couldn’t move.
How? Just how is he able to go on being that person still, and now with whole new band and new material and gimmicks to work with, just how is he able to make it through working with these entirely different personas and still come out on top with a smile on his face, without forcing it?
And as if on cue, as if his dearest friend himself was providing the very answer to his question, through the thick blanket of gray that covered the skies a single ray of sunshine somehow made it through casting its warm glow on the few numbers that were etched into the white marble. He lifted his head up just enough to stare at them, letting them burn into his own mind and he smiled sadly, understanding.
He was telling him that he somehow managed without him for 10 years now, that he must be doing something right to have made it this far...
…and he did it on his own, but now he doesn’t have to be.
Despite the cold, the memories and the dead communicating with him from beyond the grave now, his heart felt a little lighter, felt a whole surge of inspiration overwhelm him with ideas for the new band, and that smile stayed plastered on his face for a long moment later, even when he got up to leave with a single tear making its way down one cheek, beneath his shades.
~fin~
also dedicated to my grandfather, whose love for music lives on through my name.