Author’s Notes: This was one of the first snippets written
for this series. I’m rather partial to
it. <333 All you really need to know before this
starts is that a) Gackt wasn’t successful in getting a job, and b) he’s gotten
REALLY sick. Everything else is pretty
self-explanatory.
shat·ter (shăt’Ər)
He returned to consciousness,
his eyelids still heavy with sleep. His
vision was foggy, the shadows and what little light there was filtering through
the tattered drapes from the flickering neon signs in the street danced along
the walls, playing cruel tricks on his feverish mind. “Cha…?” he called out, his voice hoarse and
alien in his own ears.
He felt his eyes roll in
their sockets and he must have slipped into the oblivion again for when he
reopened his eyes, the sultry calls from the street outside had intensified and
the shadows on the wall had elongated, reaching far beyond the height of a man,
towering over him, staring down at him…
…or maybe it was his mind
toying with him yet again.
“Cha…?” came the call, a bit
more anxious this time. His stomach
rolled and he grimaced at the taste of bile as he swallowed back the urge to
vomit. He hadn’t the energy to move to
the sorry excuse that was the bathroom.
“Cha…”
He whimpered and rolled onto
his protesting stomach and crawled on his hands and knees to the couch where he
collapsed against the sinking cushions, panting and gagging on his
back-flipping stomach. Using the makeshift
coffee table as a crutch, he stood on shaky legs and pulled the afghan over his
shoulders. He stumbled to the door, his
hands rarely ever leaving the solidity of the peeling plaster wall as the room
spun and tilted under his unstable feet.
Managing to reach the door
without passing out or throwing up, he slipped on his sandals and staggered out
into the bare hall and down the metal staircase, clinging to the wrought iron
railing. Reaching the bottom – after the
long and agonizing and dizzying trek down the single flight of stairs – he
burst into the chill of the night. He
leaned heavily against the plain stone building he had just exited and pulled
the afghan tighter around his malnourished form while his teeth chattered as he
shivered.
He took a few shuddering breaths
before he pushed away from the building and walked. Where he was going, he wasn’t sure. He knew Cha was working. He had said he was working at night…didn’t
he?
Or was it all in his mind
again?
No, he could remember that
night. It was before the sickness had
seized him fully. Cha had told him he
would be working at night. He could
remember that Cha smelled nice that night, like vanilla and cherry blossoms…he
looked soft too, a characteristic which he had not really associated with his
companion. He had blamed it on the poor
lighting and the oncoming fever.
Ignoring the catcalls and
enticements from the painted women outside, he stumbled down the dark streets,
searching, searching…
*****
There were times when Cha
could find amusement in his “profession” – when men would mistake him for a
woman when they stumbled past, supported by their comrades, when women would
honestly consider him competition for a spot when he could easily, with half of
them at least, be their father or even grandfather. He especially enjoyed the irony of the Union
members – or officials even – and the military’s Cadets wrapping their arms
around him, when he was one of the ones on their “wanted” lists. But in the end it would always boil down to
the same thing, and any mirth at cross-dressing so well would dissolve with the
offer of money for some illicit act in the alleyway behind him.
Sometimes it made him
hurt. But it always made him sick.
Tonight, especially, had no
humor whatsoever to be found. Gackt had gotten
worse, his fever had spiked, and earlier in the day the medical student who
wasn’t had said that if the other man was not taken to the hospital, or a
doctor at the very least…he wouldn’t make it to next week.
Swallowing down his urge to
wretch, Cha pulled the cheap fabric of the kimono down to reveal more of his
neck and shoulders. Gaku had always said
that he was fascinated by collarbones, loved them. As he had loved Cha’s a week ago. He had loved the rest of him too, but…Cha
shivered as the night wind caressed his skin.
Within minutes one of the
Cadets sauntered down the line of women, but stopped before him. Cha glanced up, playing innocent. They seemed to like that.
“You’re new.”
Cha’s head quirked to the
side a bit, confused.
“You weren’t here last time I
passed by.”
Lowering his eyes, the man
whispered, “Perhaps I was otherwise preoccupied…” He was young, couldn’t have been a day over
twenty Cha mused as the Cadet stretched a hand forward to cup his cheek.
“I wouldn’t doubt it, not
with a face like that.”
“I’m more than just a pretty
face.” Cha bit his lip and averted his
eyes again. That had come out a bit too
defensively. Play the role, play the part.
“Maybe you’d like to see more…?”
“For a small charge, of
course.”
“Of course.”
The Cadet smirked a bit at
that, but captured Cha’s chin in his hand and leaned forward to press their
lips together: tasting, testing.
Over the course of
this…“profession,” Cha had discovered that there were two types of men – the
rapists and the seducers. This man was
definitely one of the latter, he decided, as their lips moved against one
another, as their bodies drew close, as he pulled the younger man with him
towards the alley…
*****
The world was a neon
blur. The lights, the colors, the
darkness, the voices and smells swirled around him in the night. Gackt inhaled, but could only manage to
wheeze and stumble against a brick wall in a fit of coughing, his lungs far too
weak to compete with the icy fingers of winter’s approaching chill. Closing his eyes, he struggled to recapture
his senses.
There were hands on him, on
his chest, at his waist as a sweet voice danced against his ear. With a suppressed growl, he lashed out with
his faltering strength. “Don’t touch
me,” he commanded before once again pushing away from the wall.
“Cha…” Pulling the afghan tighter to his body he
continued his trek through the streets in search of his companion.
He said he was working at night...
Rounding a corner, he glanced
at the painted faces of the girls selling their bodies and their services – or
at least trying to in some cases – to the men stumbling to and from the
surrounding bars.
Working for money…
He had gone up and down every
street between the boarding house and here, he might as well try. Maybe Cha had gotten a job at one of the
bars, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. With his
years of experience pouring booze and mixing drinks for innumerable rock stars,
it made him a likely hire. And money
under the table and off the record was still money. Turning down the street, he walked slowly on
the uneven pavement and called out weakly, searching, “Cha?”
He wasn’t surprised when the
movement and dealings going on around him continued without acknowledgement of
his call. In desperation, he tried
again. “Cha?”
There. Movement did
stop towards a back alleyway. A
prostitute with one of her clients turned to look at him. Horror and shame flashed in her dark eyes.
Eyes that he knew, he
realized. Eyes he knew very, very well.
Working…
Gackt’s eyes rolled back into
his head as the world spun, fell on its side, and went dark.
*****
“Cha?”
That voice. He could recognize that voice from a mile
away. Turning away from the Cadet’s advances
he looked up the street and met the fevered eyes of the one person he hoped he
would never have to face like this.
Never like this.
The guitarist had never felt
so ashamed, so disgusted with himself.
At that moment, he wanted to curl up into a ball and die in the water
and filth of the street he worked.
But all thoughts of himself
shattered when the other man collapsed to the ground, limp as a rag doll. “Gaku!”
The gasp exploded from his lungs as he pushed the younger man and his
advances away as he bolted to his fallen companion. Rolling Gackt over onto his back, he
double-checked his vitals before cradling him in his arms. He stroked the sick man’s face and hair while
rocking the seemingly-lifeless form.
“Gaku…Gaku wake up…I’m here…wake up….wake up, please…?” He glanced about him in search of someone,
anyone who would help.
Business went on as usual in
total disregard of the men on the ground, at least until someone called out
over the roar from the bars, “Red badges!
Girls, scatter!” There was the
patter of feet as the other prostitutes fled the scene of the crime, as it was,
into the night. The street which had
been filled only moments ago was completely and utterly deserted.
When one was an Isolate, Red
Badges were the worst type of men to run into.
Officers without any true specialization, they had jurisdiction over any
and all general laws and regulations.
They had been known to “apprehend” anyone for whatever reason on the
spot, no civil rights required.
Five of them were quickly
approaching.
Cha felt very alone and very,
very helpless.
Desperation entered his voice
as he shook Gackt’s slumped shoulders.
“Gaku! Gaku, we have to go now.
Please wake up. Please. Oh God, Gaku…” Clutching the unconscious man to his chest, Cha whimpered.
They’ll take me away from
you. They’ll tear us apart. Oh God, please no…
“What’s going on here?”
Cha didn’t dare look up. “A-ano…”
The click of boots moved and the man realized that they had partially
surrounded them. He couldn’t stop shaking.
“It seems that the man’s been
a bit under the weather. The cold must
have gotten the best of him.” Cha turned
to stare at the owner of the voice directly behind him. The Cadet who had requested his company stood
at attention. Why are you…? “I request
permission to take him and his wife back to their residence before returning
for my shift.” Wife? Cha touched his face
almost absent-mindedly, finding that his make up was still firmly in place.
“Hn. Permission granted. And be sure to instruct his wife as to where
the nearest medical facility is, if she doesn’t know. We don’t need an epidemic, not at this time
of year.”
“Yes sir, and of course sir.”
Salutes were exchanged and
the clicking of boots receded and Cha remembered to breathe. The Cadet came around began to pull the
still-unconscious Gackt from him but the other man shrank back and clutched his
companion tighter to his body. “What do
you think you’re doing?”
“I just saved your
skins. And he’s too heavy for you to
carry as dead weight, let me help.” Cha
gave no indication of relenting his human possession. “…please?”
The older man watched the
other’s eyes, searching for a sign that would ease his mind. There was sincerity there. But there was also a deep-rooted urgency as
well. After a few tense moments, Cha let
the sick man’s body shift into the Cadet’s arms and be hefted into the
air. Looking down at the still-kneeling
man, the youth asked, “Where do you live?”
Cha couldn’t form the words that were needed for the answer. “Where do you live?” More haste.
“The boarding house…on
____...”
The Cadet nodded and stated,
“Right, let’s go.”
They walked in silence, Cha
leading them to the closet that was his and Gaku’s apartment. Eyes downcast, he turned the key and moved inside
and then stepped aside for the other to follow.
He gestured to a worn futon that lay in the middle of the main
room. “Help me lay him down,” he
whispered, moving into the room.
Together they positioned
Gackt into what Cha hoped was the most comfortable position possible. The man was still unconscious, which worried
his companion. Did he hit his head when he fell?
Is it possible he has a concussion?
What do I do?
Biting back tears, he looked
about the room, lost, before his eyes came to rest on the Cadet. He stood and offered his hand to the other
man and when he took it, led him into a smaller side room that Cha had used for
storage of all that his new “profession” required. Pulling him inside, he quickly slid the door
shut and knelt before a miniature mirror.
There’s no point in keeping up the
façade, he won’t want any anymore anyway.
He pulled a fraying rag from a small bowl of water that sat by the
mirror and spoke in soft tones to the man who sat towards the other end of the
closet while he removed the make up. “I
thank you for what you did tonight. I’m
sure I don’t have to elaborate on why I’m so thankful, but it has been a very
long time since anyone has shown either of us any resemblance of kindness.”
“I would hope that most people
would have done something…”
“But they don’t.”
“…if they had the ability.”
“Oh yes. If.”
Cha refolded the rag and replaced it in the bowl. Turning on the other man, the soft mask gone,
he sneered. “The people who want to help
can’t. And the people that can don’t
give a damn.”
“…Cha…?” The whispered call filtered through the paper
wall of the closet and Cha gave one glance at the Cadet before heeding the call
of the sick man.
When left alone, the Cadet
stood and moved to the door to watch the two’s interactions through a small
crack between the door and its frame.
“Cha…?” Gackt lifted a weak hand, his fingers
caressing the empty air. His companion
knelt by his side, taking the searching hand in his own and bringing it to his
lips before pressing it to his chest.
“What is it Gaku?”
“I had a…dream…” His eyes slipped shut.
“A dream?” Concern etched the older man’s face. “What about?”
“You…left…I went to look for
you…in the dark…I couldn’t find you…” He
coughed several times.
Cha leaned forward and kissed
his forehead before pressing his own forehead against Gackt’s. “It was just a dream, Gaku. I’m here now.”
“Cha?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t work anymore…don’t
work at night anymore…I miss you…at night…”
The Cadet could see the
muscles in the older man’s shoulders tense and when he sat up he could see the
glistening of tears in his eyes. “Okay…I
won’t work at night anymore…”
“Promise?”
Cha’s throat constricted as a
tear slid down his cheek.
“Promise.” Stroking Gackt’s face,
he waited for him to fall to sleep again before standing. He took a few steps towards the closet and
stopped. Turning to Gackt he took a step
back towards his sleeping form before stopping again. He wrapped his thin arms around his thinner
body and whimpered and pivoting back to face the closet door, he walked inside
and slid it shut behind him.
“Why do you do this?” came
the immediate question once the Cadet was certain that his voice would not
carry beyond the room.
“Because we need money.”
“But you have…you have stamps
don’t you?”
“Oh yes. When you lot decide to actually give them to
us,” Cha snapped, his voice soft but laced with venom. “But no doctor is going to accept stamps. They want actual money. Stamps are useless to anyone who’s in a
“Well…I thought--”
“He needs a prescription to
get the medicine, but no Union doctor will take us – we can’t afford it. But…” he hesitated to continue, but he figured
he was probably in as deep as he could possibly get already. “But the man next door…he's an underground
practitioner, so we know what he needs.
And I can find it on the market…for a lot cheaper. But it can only be bought with actual
money. And we don’t have actual money,” he said, turning to the Cadet again. “Until now.
Until this.” He looked down at
his calloused hands. “We almost have
enough…” He bit his lip as tears welled
in his eyes, making the room blur and bleed together. “But even then…even when I can finally buy
it…it might be too late…”
The Cadet was silent. Never had he seen the suffering of this city
so close. And to think…these were only
two of the thousands of people in this district. He felt his throat go dry.
“…I guess I can assume you’re
not interested anymore,” Cha said softly, looking up to regard the younger man
with sad eyes. Before the other could
reply however, he lowered his head and whispered, “Go.”
He didn’t move from the spot
for a time, but after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the Cadet stood
and stepped out of the closet and into the main room. It seemed that the second the door slid shut,
he could hear the muted sobs of the man behind it and he felt his stomach tie
in a knot. His pace quickened to the
door but once he had his hand on the knob, he paused.
*****
Rubbing his red eyes, Cha
slid the door aside and into the frame to find the apartment empty save for him
and the sleeping Gackt. He took a deep
breath and sighed. Standing, he untied
the sash around his thin waist and undressed in the closet, the kimono slipping
from his shoulders to pool about his feet.
He knelt and put the old make up inside it, tying the ends about the
bundle it made to secure it. Kicking it
into a corner, he resigned himself to burning the entire thing with the trash
tomorrow.
Reaching into the cupboard
above, he withdrew a pair of worn gray pants and pulled them over his bony
hips. He shivered a bit and searched for
a shirt to put on but found none that would work to sleep in. He was determined to keep the shirt the
landlady had given him as nice as possible.
He needed it to look at least half-way presentable during the day.
Shutting the closet door, he
stepped into the main room and crossed to where Gackt lay. Pulling the old sheet aside, he crawled
underneath and wrapped his arms around the other man, sighing softly when he
felt his chest rise and fall against his cheek.
It meant he was still alive.
It meant he still had time.
He bent a hand up to caress
the opposite side of Gackt’s face. It
was the noise rather than a touch against his skin, that alerted his tired mind
when his hand brushed against something.
Sitting up, he looked on the floor and found a cleanly folded wad paper.
No, not paper.
Money.
Cha felt all the air in his
lungs rush out of his body as he leaned over Gackt’s body – careful not to bump
his sleeping companion. Taking the money
in hand, he counted.
One million yen. One million.
More than enough to pay for
Gackt’s medication, a change of winter clothes and food for the next few
months.
His hand clamped over his
mouth to stifle the cry of joy and relief that burst suddenly from inside of
him. Clutching the money in his fist, he
bent down to press a kiss to Gackt’s forehead and ran his fingers through the
other’s hair. “We may have that steak
dinner after all Gaku…”