Title: Ai ni Yotte Influenza Desu
Meaning: Love by Influenza (roughly)
Pairing: KyoxShinya; KaoruxShinya
Type: Fluff-ish drama; romance
Rating: PG
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Despite the relative lateness when he went to sleep, Shinya woke up long before his alarm was set to go off. The night had not yet given way to the sun and was just beginning to turn the pale colors of dawn outside his window. The young drummer turned to face his clock and saw that it was 5:30 – plenty of time to go back to sleep if he wanted to, but Shinya wasn’t tired. He kicked off his blankets, and was pleased to note that his body showed none of the previous night’s physical signs of illness. The shaking hands, and the weak and achy feelings were gone. His breath came normally, and his vision had stopped playing tricks on him. The one thing that made Shinya frown slightly was the dull throbbing of a headache. He shrugged mentally – he’d take some aspirin if it got worse and he’d be fine. It was probably the lack of food, anyway. He’d skipped dinner again; it was the third night in a row that had happened.
Shinya stood, but sat down heavily as a wave of nausea passed over him. Maybe it had been a good thing that he hadn’t eaten – Shinya wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t have vomited if he had. He groaned softly and closed his eyes, waiting for the feeling to pass. When it did, he stood again, much slower than before, and stayed in place just incase it decided to come back. A few moments later, when he was sure that it wouldn’t, he started towards his bedroom door. He heard Miyu’s nails on the wood floor as she scampered to scratch happily at his bedroom door, looking for food.
“Hush, Miyukkoro,” Shinya chided gently when she barked, “You’ll wake the neighbors if you keep that up.”
It had been hard enough getting the landlord to allow him to keep the little dog, and even so the man had warned Shinya that Miyu would have to leave at the first complaint. So far everything had been fine, but the drummer didn’t want to take any chances. He walked into the kitchen, followed by a very excited little dog, changed the water once more, and poured more food into the dish. He watched Miyu as she performed the dogish equivalent of shoveling food into her mouth.
“I should stop feeding you ... you’re going to get fat,” Shinya sighed.
When she was finished, Miyu looked at him expectantly, wagging her little tail so fast that it blurred.
“You know where it is. Go get it.”
Miyu scampered away, coming back seconds later dragging a leash behind her. Shinya smiled – the little dog looked ridiculous. He clipped the leash to her collar, grabbed some paper towels and a bouncy ball, and proceeded into the hallway. Miyu ran in circles around his feet, first one way and then the other, excited to be going out – even she knew that a walk this early meant she would be played with and set loose in the park.
“Quiet, Miyukkoro! We’re almost outside!” Shinya reprimanded, but he had to laugh at his little dog’s antics. She was just too cute.
The chilled morning air cut sharply through Shinya’s pajamas and he wrapped his arms around his chest, wishing he’d at least brought a jacket. The streets were deserted, but farther down he could just barely make out the signs of life as salary men left home to catch their trains and busses. School children who lived far away from school would come out shortly after – the same routine every time. None of them would see Shinya in his pajamas, though, as he would be safely ensconced in the privacy of a completely empty park.
Miyu barked in earnest now that she was outside. She half heartedly chased after some birds in the street, went about her business, then tugged with all her might in the direction of the park. If she could talk, Shinya was certain that she’d be screaming ‘Play! Play!’ at him. Upon reaching the entrance of the park, he un-clipped her leash from her collar and rolled the little ball away from them gently, watching Miyu race to catch it. She sank her teeth into it happily, rolled around with it, then brought it back to her master proudly. Shinya took it from her and let it roll away once more. As he stood, however, he suddenly felt short of breath and lightheaded, and was forced back down to earth in order to keep his balance. Miyu yipped, wondering why her human wasn’t taking the ball. Shinya ignored her in favor of leaning heavily on one arm, closing his eyes and willing the dizziness to go away. The ground was cold through his pants, and the loose pebbles and rock bits were hurting where they dug into his hand.
When at last Shinya could breath properly, he had a long string of dents in his palm from the rocks, but no skin broken. He stood slowly, gingerly, and picked up the ball. The little dog barked excitedly, thinking he would roll it for her, but he simply caught her up in his arms and smiled apologetically.
“Gomen, Miyukkoro. I’m not feeling so great I guess. We’ll play more when I come home tonight, I promise,” he murmured as he walked.
As if she could understand him, Miyu did not whine in protest but licked his jaw for a few seconds. Shinya held her closely, relishing in the extra warmth she provided. He wondered if it had really been a good idea to walk her in only his pajamas; his headache, which had lessened to almost nothing since he’d woken up, was coming back – only it was more noticeable now. He hoped he’d be able to play normally – and that the others didn’t notice if he couldn’t. Shinya mentally shrugged, nodding slightly to one of his neighbors coming out of the building as he went in, and resolved to take aspirin.
Shinya let himself back into his apartment, prudently keeping the lights off. Miyu jumped down from his arms and skittered away to her bed. There she walked in a circle three times, curled in on herself, and went to sleep. Shinya smiled faintly, thinking absently that Kyo might be able to do that too, and wishing for a moment that he could do that. He leaned his back on the wall and closed his eyes, resting and dreaming of not having to practice.
I could always blame Die and say that he told me not to come to practice ... he thought with a small grin, I do, after all, take everything ‘too seriously’.
But even as he thought it Shinya knew that he’d never skip a practice. No matter what Die thought, he needed to see them – to know that they were real and cared about him and that he wasn’t living a dream. It seemed a childish fear, and he was sure that the others would laugh at him if they knew; they’d been a band for so long that surely he should have realized it was not a dream! Shinya pushed himself off the wall and headed into his small bathroom.
Which is exactly why they’ll never know. Leave me to my fears and we’ll all be happy. Now ... where did I put that aspirin? he thought as he dug around in his medicine cabinets for the elusive bottle.
At last he found it, behind a toothpaste tube and rubbing alcohol no less, and wiped the dust from the cap. He opened it and downed two of the four pills quickly, grimacing at the chalk-like taste. No matter how many times he took the stuff, Shinya was quite sure he’d never get used to that – which was why he made a point of not taking it in the first place. He leaned lightly against the sink, closing his eyes once more, noting the heaviness of his eyelids blankly. Now he wished that he hadn’t woken up so early.
“Nya, nya!” declared his radio brightly, and loudly, and the opening of Mirror blared through the speakers.
Shinya went quickly into his bedroom and slapped off his alarm. Gackt might once have been one of them but ... He looked around out of habit – if the others heard, he’d never hear the end of it. He wondered vaguely if he should bring the aspirin to practice but decided against it. No sense in getting everyone on his case over a headache. He turned and prepared to dress himself, but dropped his shirt in favor of bringing his arms back to his sides as a stabbing pain shot through him. The aspirin was starting to look really, really good.
“Here she is, Miss America!” Die sang loudly and off key, in very bad English.
Shinya rolled his eyes and prayed that the other’s either hadn’t heard or weren’t paying attention. He was assured they hadn’t when he didn’t hear Kyo or Toshiya join in. They were off in one corner, smiling quickly at him in greeting before going back to their own conversation. Toshiya’s brow furrowed as he meticulously tuned his bass, trying to get rid of the tinny sound it had a habit of acquiring overnight. How he managed to keep up with Kyo, who was rambling on about some TV show he’d been watching, and tune at the same time was beyond Shinya’s grasp. It was things like that which made Shinya extra fond of his drums.
The young drummer hung up his coat and placed down his bag in two swift movements and immediately proceeded to the table in the studio upon which coffee and breakfast foods sat just begging to be eaten. He hadn’t eaten breakfast at home for fear of another bout of nausea, but figured by now he had to be over it. And if he wasn’t, he’d probably be nauseous for lack of food by lunch time, anyway, which would not be a good thing.
“What? No comeback? No ‘leave me alone, Die’? Who are you and what have you done with Shinya?” the red head asked melodramatically, “You didn’t even roll your eyes!”
“Yes I did.”
“Oh. ... But I didn’t see, so it doesn’t count.”
Shinya sighed heavily, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion for good measure, and pounced on the muffins. Die followed Shinya over to the table, but stopped talking and just stood there, watching the younger man as he gathered his breakfast. Shinya could ignore the heated gaze only for so long. Finally he put down the food and coffee and turned to Die, slightly annoyed but mostly curious.
“What? Do I have something in my hair? On my face?” he asked, tiredly.
“ ... ”
“Diiiieeeeee-kun ... ” Shinya said lowly, in warning.
“ ... ”
Shinya rolled his eyes and turned back to the task of pouring just the right amount of milk and sugar into his coffee cup before adding the coffee. He was taking his first sip when his friend saw fit to speak.
“I’m sorry.”
The drummer nearly spit out his mouthful, snapping his head around to look at Die sharply. He swallowed hurriedly, wincing as the liquid burned his throat.
“You’re ... what?”
“I’m sorry ... For yesterday, you know,” Die muttered.
Shinya stared at Die as if he’d grown a second head. Now it was Die’s turn to feel the intensity of a stare pinned on him. He grew uncomfortable far quicker than Shinya had, shifting his weight from foot to foot and finding a spot on his shoe suddenly fascinating. Finally Shinya took pity on the guitarist, and turned back to his breakfast.
“All right then.”
Die wondered vaguely if he’d be teased very much if he fell in anime-style disbelief. He was sorely tempted to find out. In the end he settled for smacking his forehead into his palm.
“Shinya~a~a~a~a~a~a~a,” he groaned.
“Yes?” the younger man blinked innocently over the rim of his coffee mug.
“ ... Nothing. Nothing at all,” the red head sighed. He gave Shinya an absent-minded pat on the head as he turned away from the drummer to bother Toshiya; his arm coming down a bit heavier than intended. He didn’t notice Shinya wince in pain and quickly set down his mug in order to pinch the bridge of his note. Kaoru – entering the practice studio – did, and made his way to the young drummer’s side quickly.
“Shinya? Are you okay?”
“Eh?” asked Shinya, intelligently, staring blankly at his band leader for a few moments before realizing that his hand was still pressed tightly to the bridge of his nose. Assuming correctly that Kaoru had seen what Die did, he smiled disarmingly and pulled his hand away from his nose. “Oh, yeah, fine. Just, eh, knocked myself in the nose with the mug under Die-kun’s affections.”
Kaoru smiled back and for a moment the two men just stared at each other, smiling. It seemed that neither could tear their eyes away, even if they wanted to (which both were trying to tell themselves quite firmly that they did). The pink haired guitarist watched in fascination as his hand, without waiting for his brain’s permission, reached up and slowly caress its way up Shinya’s cheek. It came to rest on Shinya’s nose and tapped lightly – Kaoru told himself that the demure blush which spread across Shinya’s cheeks meant nothing. He swallowed, trying to make his throat work.
“Well, try not to break the mug, Shin-chan,” Kaoru heard himself say distantly, and could feel the tell-tale teasing grin stretch across his lips.
The moment was gone; life resumed. Shinya rolled his eyes – he thought with a flash of annoyance that he’d been doing that way too often this morning – and gave Kaoru a half-hearted smack on the arm. “Cute, Kaoru-kun. Real cute.”
“Who’s cute?!” Kyo demanded at once, abandoning his, mostly one-sided, conversation with Toshiya. “Who dares utter that hated word in my presence?!”
“Kaoru-kun and his amazing immaturity,” Shinya said, giving the pink haired guitarist a side long glance. He slid away quickly and was safely behind his drums before the older man could think to smack him back. Kaoru stuck his tongue out at Shinya instead. “You see?”
“We see,” Toshiya grinned.
“So Kyo-chan’s got a “presence”, eh?” Die teased, draping one arm around the short vocalist and giving him a good, hard, noogie. The blonde sputtered and raged, and tried to bite Die, but the red head was faster and stronger and held Kyo in a tight head-lock. “Be nice or I won’t practice my curtsy for you.”
“I thought only Shinya and Toshiya cross dressed around here?” Kaoru grinned.
“Oi!” Toshiya laughed, strapping on his bass, “Don’t start. Just because I make a prettier girl than you isn’t my fault. Just because Shinya outshines us all in a dress isn’t his fault. He’s just such a sweet little girl, aren’t you, Shin-chan?”
“Oh, I don’t know about sweet, or little,” Die interjected before Shinya could stand up for himself, “but he’s definitely a girl.”
“That’s not what’s on my birth certificate,” Shinya said dryly from somewhere behind the small army that he called his drum set. A cymbal on the left rose a few inches, one on the right slid down.
“Eh, we all know hospital people lie,” Kyo grinned, finally shrugging out from under Die’s arm and sidling up to his beloved microphone stand. “Okay then! Let’s start this!”
Oh shit. Plugged in? This is not my day, Shinya swore inwardly with a few other choice phrases even as he watched the others take to their instruments; each giving them a few last minute tuning checks. He prayed to the Gods of Aspirin that their medicine of life really could get him through the next four hours – or at least until the next break – and stretched out his arms discreetly, hoping the pain from earlier that morning was gone. It was there, but much weaker; he could live with that.
“Hello wheresits,” Kyo said loudly into the microphone, in his extra special “I’m Hyper And Pretending I’m At A Concert So I’ll Be Cheezy” voice, “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, and this is Macabre!”
Fuck.