... d.r.e.a.m.s...




	I have only slipped away into the next room I am I, you are you Whatever we were to each other, That we are still Call me by the old familiar name Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow Laugh as we always laughed At the little jokes that we enjoyed together Play Smile Think of me Pray for me Let my name be ever the household word that it always was Let it be spoken without an effort, Without a ghost of shadow upon it Life means all that it ever meant It is the same as it ever was There is an absolute and unbroken continuity What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval Somewhere very near Just round the corner All is well -- " Death Is Nothing at All " , Henry Scott Holland -- Hisashi walked to the small room in the backstage, where Jiro was supposed to be resting before the concert began. He would try another round to make Jiro change his mind about appearing in the concert. He knew it meant disaster if Jiro suddenly agreed and cancelled appearing on the concert, eventhough there was subtitute bassist who was ready to covered the blonde anytime. But it was just like Takuro said. Without one of them, GLAY was not GLAY and a concert couldn't be held. But to Hisashi, Jiro was much more important than the concert. The concert be damned, he didn't care what would happen as long as Jiro was okay. But Jiro was as stubborn as always, if not more so. All of his words, all of Takuro and Teru's words fell to deaf ears that at the end they had to relent and let him play at the concert. Takuro and Teru tried to believe what Jiro said, Hisashi knew that. But not with him. He knew very well about Jiro's condition, and it would be dangerous if Jiro forced himself to play at the concert. With a determination, Hisashi opened the door to the small room where Jiro was. Jiro was sitting in front of the mirror, putting up some more make up to cover his paleness. He smiled when he saw Hisashi came in. "hi," he said. "Hi yourself," Hisashi grunted then kissed him lightly. "How are you feeling?" "As good as I can be," Jiro answered back brightly. "I'm feeling good today. I just hope it will still be okay during the concert" "Jiro... I still think that you shouldn't do this" "Hisa, today is the concert day already," Jiro pointed out. "If I didn't do it, it'd be a disaster" "I don't care if it'd be a disaster," Hisashi said back. "I would take the responsibility. I just want... I just want you to be okay. I hate it to see you sick" "I know," Jiro said softly. "I hate it too. But I want to play, Hisa, and I've made my decision, and there is nothing that can make me go against it. Not even you" Hisashi sighed in frustation. "God, Jiro! Why won't you listen me just once? Why won't you listen to us? We all care about you and your condition! What if you fall in the middle of the concert? What if your condition worsened after it? Why couldn't you just listen to me and do what I ask you to do? I hate it when you act without thinking about your own health and I hate it when you are being so annoyingly stubborn, and-" "Hisashi," Jiro cut him off quietly. "I went to the doctor before I made the decision" Hisashi froze on the spot. "You... went to the doctor without me?" he asked slowly. Jiro always went to the doctor with him. Together. They'd face whatever news the doctor had for them together. So there'd be support and a shoulder to cry on when the news was bad and someone to share the happiness with when the news was good. But Jiro had went to the doctor alone. By himself. Without him. Without him even ackowledged it. "...And...?" Jiro didn't answer straightly. He stared at his own reflection, as if seeking strength, as if asking whether he should tell the truth or not. There was something in his eyes that Hisashi couldn't put a finger on. And he knew he didn't like it one bit. "Jiro, is there something you've been hiding to me?" "I..." Jiro put down the brush that he was holding. He turned towards his blue-haired lover and Hisashi could see the emotions in those eyes. Sadness, pain, grief, desperation, all of the things Hisashi didn't wish to see in Jiro's eyes but was there, as Jiro failed to mask them. "My time will come soon, Hisa," he whispered. "The doctor told me so" Hisashi felt dread crawled up his spine and for a moment, he couldn't think anything. Everything was blank. He stared blankly at the blonde. And then it slammed down on him. The thing Jiro had just told him. The blood ran down from his face, and he paled visibly at the horrible realization. "... what...?" he whispered hoarse in disbelief. "The medical treatment doesn't work, Hisa," he said back softly. "It does have some effect, but... it is too late. The treatment now only able to delay my time a little but... but sooner or later, I'll die from this desease" /... my time will come soon, Hisa... / Those words repeated itself over and over again in his head, like a broken record that Hisashi was unable to press the stop button of. The time was running. His time with Jiro was running. He stared at his lover, his sweet, beloved one, and an unwanted sob escaped his lips. He clamped his mouth with his hand, trying to hold back more sobs that were threaning to come. "Hisa-chan," Jiro said, his voice almost child-like. Taking Hisashi's hand, he stared up at his blue haired lover, almost pleadingly. "Don't cry, please? I'm okay, really..." "How could you say you are okay?? You're going to die! You're going to leave me... you're... you're..." Jiro quickly pulled Hisashi into his arms, stroking his back fervently. "God, Hisa... don't cry. Don't cry... please..." Hisashi sagged into Jiro's embrace, his hand clutching the blondie's cloth tightly, desperately, seeking for something to support him as he felt his legs weakened. The world was swirling, and suddenly, all of his surrounding felt so far away, like he had detached himself from the world he lived in. Dimly, he could still feel Jiro's stroke on his back and the arms that embraced him tightly. Distantly, he could hear Jiro's soft pleading voice, trying to reach out to him. But none of them felt real. He was spiralling away from the harsh reality he suddenly had to face, trying to find solace, comfort in somewhere, some place, where everything was okay. Where there were no tears. Where he could live happily with smile on his face. Where Jiro would never leave him. The place he knew didn't exist. * * * He wished he could fix all of this mess with his own hands. No, not really for his own sake, but for his bestfriends' sake. For Hisashi's sake. For all the tears that had fallen and was about to fall, for the fading smiles and laughters, for all the grief that they were drowning into. He hardly heard the laughter now. He hardly heard Takuro's small funny remarks, Teru's endless bubbly babbles, and Hisashi's small smiles again. He didn't see the lights in their eyes again when they looked at him. At least there was no pity in their eyes. He'd hate it. And somehow he felt guilty for it. Felt guilty because whether he liked it or not, it was him, it was his condition that was the main cause of all of this. He knew it was silly to think like that but he couldn't help it. He wished he could make them happy again. How could he made them happy while he always felt pain in his heart, in his body, in his joints? How could he ever made them happy, made them back to their own normal selves again? There were times when he was able to go back to his old self. There were times that he managed to say some jokes, to act silly like he used to do. There were times when he thought he was able to revive the sparks back into their eyes. But he couldn't hide his pain. It was easier to act normal when he just found out about his sickness, when the pains in his joints were not crazy. When he still could mask the pains with his smiles and some little excuses. But not now. The mask was useless now, fell, broken, little shreds on the floor. He had no excuse again because when they looked into his maskless eyes they'd know. And with that knowledge, the smiles and the sparks would fade again into the grieve that would fill those depths. "Okay, let's take a break" Takuro said, putting off the strap of his guitar. Jiro couldn't help the sigh that slipped out of his lips. His hand had started to hurt. "Daijobu?" Hisashi asked gently. "Aa, daijobu," he smiled. He hoped it would be a reassuring smile. The room was silent. Teru finally stood. "Ah... I'm going to smoke a little... you coming, Hisa?" he asked, staring at Hisashi, then Jiro, then back to Hisashi. "Iie... you just... go ahead" "Ah--...," Jiro suddenly exclaimed, making all of them stopped in their tracks. "I've got... I've got something to say..." They all turned towards the blonde, eyes gentle but with silent curiousity and anticipation. "What is it, Jiro-chan?" Teru asked. Jiro fished his pocked, taking a slightly rumpled piece of paper from it. "You see... I notice that the atmosphere here is so sober and grave lately. I... hate that. I know that I'm the cause of this, and I hate that. I... fucking hate it. I tried to contain this nagging feeling in me, but I just simply couldn't hold it back anymore. I miss the smiles and laughters and the light, easy atmosphere that always accompany us whenever we play and compose music together..." "Jiro-" The bassist held up a hand to stop Hisashi. "Let me finish. Last night, when reading a magazine, I found this poem, and I found it really fitting with what I feel right now. Let me... let me read it ne..." He coughed a little and opened the folded paper, and started to read out loud. "I have only slipped away into the next room I am I, you are you Whatever we were to each other, That we are still Call me by the old familiar name Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow Laugh as we always laughed At the little jokes that we enjoyed together Play Smile Think of me Pray for me Let my name be ever the household word that it always was Let it be spoken without an effort, Without a ghost of shadow upon it Life means all that it ever meant It is the same as it ever was There is an absolute and unbroken continuity What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval Somewhere very near Just round the corner All is well" The room fell silent after Jiro finished reading it. He looked up from the paper, and he saw Teru hastily wiped his tears. "I feel exactly like the peron who wrote this," Jiro said softly, taking a deep breath. "Why do you think I insist on keep playing on the concert no matter how you guys tell me not to? I want to see the smile and the happiness on your face. I want to spend the time that is left for me by seeing you happy, seeing the fans happy, feeling the excitement, feeling the energy, feeling the happiness..." "I don't want spending my time seeing you guys sad, much less with this knowledge that I am the one who cause it. You have shed enough tears, had had enough grieve. Now, I just want to pretend that everything was okay... So please, if you care for me... please just smile. Please just... be happy..." There were choked sobs in the room. Even Takuro, the calm leader, shed some tears. Jiro too. He wasn't able to find his voice again. His head bowed deeply and he felt his own tears started to fall. And when he cursed the fact that he himself was crying while he asked the other to be happy, he felt a pair of arms wrapped around him. He breathed in the familiar scent and knew that it was Hisashi. "I will smile...," Hisashi whispered hoarsely, voice drenched with unshed tears. "I will smile... I will try to be happy... later... but for now, please... just ..." He clutched the material of the blondie's cloth tighter, as he felt Jiro's tears soaking his cloth, and he burrowed his face to Jiro's shoulder. Letting the tears fall freely, letting the sobs escape his lips with no holding back, as he heard his teammates sobs and sadness. "For now... just let me cry..." For Jiro. For himself. For GLAY. For everything that they had been going through, and for everything that was to come. * * * They said that when a person was nearing his death, he'd see flashes of his life, from his childhood to the very moment he was now. Jiro never thought about it too much, never figuring before that it'd happen to him this soon. But now he had it. He saw those flashes. It was like seeing his own life in a movie, being shown slide by slide. Maybe he was getting too close with his own death. Maybe it'd come all too soon. Maybe he'd just have to count the remaining minutes he had left. He was sitting on the stool in the stage now, performing the encore in the concert. In the concert that was the last for him. His last concert. Ever. All the time since the concert kicked off, he had done nothing but to memorize everything that happen. The excitements, the liveliness, the smiles, the screams. Tried to memorize his friends' face and expressions, tried to memorize the faces of the fans, their joy and excitement. To memorize the feeling he had, as he catched the concern glances Teru, Hisashi and Takuro spared his way, as he saw the banners the fans hold, showing his support for him and telling him how much they loved him. They had been so supportive towards him eversince he told the public about his desease, and he couldn't be any more grateful for that. He want to memorize this. This feeling in knowing that he was loved deeply, by those who knew him personally and those who didn't. Memorized all of them, in hope that if there was really an afterlife, he wouldn't be feeling too lonely. Because he still had the memories. Because in a way, he still had them, his friends, his fans, the love. "Chiisana pokke ni gyutto tsumatte ita Kusa no nioi no takara-mono wa kakurenbo Hodoketa kutsu himo musunde kureta kimi wo nose ma-natsu no taka-sugiru kumo ni mukatte shou-ryokou..." Teru's voice, that soothing, peaceful, dreamy voice whenever he sang that song, came to his ears as he started to saw those flashes. He saw scenes from his childhood. The house he used to live in with his family. He saw the younger version of his parents, his beloved parents no matter what had happened, and he saw his sisters as little girls. Their smiles. Their voices. Their loving words. The hands of his mother and older sisters when they caressed him gently. He saw field, the endless carpet of green. He saw his small feet, running, splasing the after-rain water, and he distantly heard his own high-pitched, childish laughter. He saw the big tree near his house, the one he loved to climb, the tree he used to talk his problem to whenever he couldn't talk about them to his mother or father. He saw the beach and the sunset. He saw small hands reached upwards to welcome the snow that started to fall. He saw the thrown snowballs and stupid-looking snowman. He saw the falling leaves, and smelled the smell of roasted sweet potatoes. He saw the girl who was his first crush in second grade, and he remembered the fights he used to have. He saw the cotton candy and the summer carnival. And distantly, he could hear his family, his old friends calling out to him. "Yoshi-chan... Yoshi-chan..." He would always be Yoshi-chan to his family, no matter what happen, and he couldn't ask for a better thing to be to his family, except being Yoshi-chan that loved them and being loved in return. "(from) Lonely days we can fly Mabuta no ura ni wa ano hi no boku-ra (from) Lonely nights we can fly Itsu demo nani ka ni kizu-tsuiteta ne..." He saw the first ever guitar he had had. His most treasured possession. He saw those old songbooks that he bought so he could practice. He remembered how he would rushed home afterschool so he could practice more. He saw his father displease as he told him he wanted to be a musician. He remembered hearing him saying that he was crazy. He saw his mother calm face, telling him to do what he wanted, allowing him to go to Tokyo so he could have a better chance to succeed in the path he had chosen. He saw his first flat he had ever had. He remembered his first job and how he struggle day by day to work to afford living and to practice playing guitar. He saw the first bass guitar he had ever had. He saw the first bass line he had ever played. He remembered the fondness he had for that instrument, more than what he had towards guitar. He saw the faces of the members of his first ever band. He saw Pierrot, and the people who accepted him eventhough he had been still inexperienced. He remember their patience and their guidance. He remembered the first time ever he played together with them. He saw the first stage he had ever played on. The first gig he had ever had. The satisfaction that people liked and appreciated them. The feeling of achievement that he had done something in the path he had chosen. He wondered where those people now were. He wondered how they were doing and whether they knew that he still remembered them, that they held a place in his heart. He saw Pierrot. His first real band ever which would always live in his memory. "I'm just in love I'm just in love I'm just in love oh Singing my life..." He remembered seeing Takuro for the first time, in a bar after another gig. He remembered the offer, and how he had turned it down, before finally agreeing. He saw Teru, charming, friendly, easygoing. He remembered hearing his singing voice for the first time, and instantly liking it. He saw Hisashi, beautiful but cold, far, detached. He felt the strange tension in the air, the way Hisashi kind of dislike him for some reasons. He remembered playing with them for the first time, remembered that despite is earlier unsureness, he found hiself liking the song they played. He remembered that despite his words, he kept helping them, got more involved with them. And he heard those words again. Distantly. The words Takuro said, that he was now the fourth member of GLAY. He saw Yoshiki, and remembered the beginning of the road to become famous. He remembered recording in the studio for the first time. He remembered seeing the set for the Rain PV. He remembered the first time they appeared on TV. He remembered the first fanmail that he ever got. He remembered composing his first song ever. He saw Takuro's excitement as he told him how much he liked the composition. He remembered the feeling of satisfaction and achievement, as his song was so much popular among the fans. He saw his friends. He saw his competitors, GLAY's competitors. He saw his fans, their happy faces, their smiles, their supports. He saw the bar they loved to hang out with. He saw the studio they record their song. He saw guitars and bass and the microphone. He saw make ups and Hisashi's colourful contact lenses. Teru's accoustic guitar, Takuro's glasses and notebooks. He saw his second family. "Furu-bita album hiraita boku wa wakakatta ryoushin to ima ja toshi mo sou kawaranai Shouwa to iu jidai ni bokura wo kakaete hashitta sonna anata no iki-gai ga shimite nakitaku naru..." He saw Hisashi and his blushing face. He remembered the time Hisashi told him that he loved him. And he remembered the happiness, the joy. He saw the smiles and heard the laughter. He heard the loving words and felt the gentle caresses. He saw the park and the cinema, and remembered all of their silly disguises so they wouldn't be recognized by others. He remembered waking up, and seeing Hisashi's face. He remembered going to sleep, and feeling Hisashi arms around him. He remembered the first time they made love, remembered how much Hisashi was being careful and gentle. He felt the wonderful feeling, the wholeness as Hisashi filled him, and he saw Hisashi's face, drowned in the intensity of the pleasure he felt, looking as beautiful as a man could ever be. He saw Hisashi, the man he had seen in the darkest and brightest times, and still loved him wholeheartedly. Hisashi's gentle words, his patience, his smiles, caresses, silent supports... the comfort and a strange sense of safety his arms offered... his dark eyes, his laughter, his voice, his passion... his love... He was the luckiest person on earth to have Hisashi. He knew that, realized that, and was eternaly thankful until his last breath for that. He remembered everything. Small things to bigger things, he remembered. He remembered everything that reminded him that somehow, life was grand. "(from) Lonely days we can fly Yutaka na hibi wo natsukashiku omou (from) Lonely nights we can fly OK! Thank you for my life I'm just in love I'm just in love I'm just in love oh Singing my life..." He couldn't think clearly anymore. His head was spinning. His joints were screaming at him for the pain that was eating them. He was thankful that he had remembered the bass lines by heart that his fingers automatically played the instrument expertly. He wondered if he'd fall soon... he wondered how much longer he could hold on... if he fell now, in the middle of a song like this... would they... " We will rock you words from Heaven We will rock you words from Heaven We will rock you words from Heaven wow wow wow wow We will rock you words from Heaven We will rock you words from Heaven We will rock you words from Heaven wow wow wow wow" No. Falling down now in the middle of a song was not an option. He wouldn't let a song go unfinished. He had to hang on. It was just a little bit more... He blinked repeatedly, trying to focused his vision which was getting blurrer, trying to get the fog away from his mind. If this was his last moments... His last concert would end in a matter of minutes. He opened his eyes widely, trying to memorized, once again, everything, every details. He shifted a little in his seat so his lips were right in front of the mic. He opened his mouth a little, and started to sing too, joining the others. "I'm just in love I'm just in love I'm just in love oh Singing my life I'm just in love I'm just in love I'm just in love oh Singing my life..." He didn't care if his voice cracked. He didn't care the fact that he had tears rolling down his cheeks and that thousand of people would see them. He kept singing. It was one of his favourite songs anyway... and he was singing his life now. He looked up at the sky, seeing thousands of stars twinkling merrily. Seeing the moon, ever so serenely shining the world below, looking beautiful no matter how hard those man-made lamps trying to compete it. He wondered if there was really heaven up there. As he heard the fans sang together with Teru keep urging them on, Jiro felt his energy draining away. Suddenly the bass in his hands felt so heavy. He felt his head becoming light and suddenly, he felt like he lost his ground. Hisashi's alarmed face was the thing he saw before he finally fell backwards. That time, he almost believed that slow motion really existed in real life. He saw the fans, the stadium. He saw Hisashi, reaching out to him, yelling his name. Too late... it was too late. He was falling, and no matter how much Hisashi wanted to catch him... he wouldn't be able to. He heard the surprised shout from Teru and scream from the fans. Would they be angry...? Would they be disappointed in him...? He lost hold of his bass, the thing he treasured so much, the thing he had taken as part of him... he lost hold of it. Falling further... further back... He saw the night sky... the stars... the moon... and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw heaven up there. It was the last thing he saw before his vision blurred completely and his back and the back of his head connecting painfully with the ground. And then everything was black. Complete darkness. Still. Silent. Peaceful. Serenity. part 3