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Hiroshima: Gravitation Fic

Author: Bitterfig

Title: Hiroshima

Fandom: Gravitation

Characters: Aizawa Tachi, Fujisaki Suguru, Seguchi Tohma

Summary: Seguchi Tohma had all but killed Tachi when he pushed him in front of that car.  It was only right that he should pay- pain for pain, shattered life for shattered life.  But how do you avenge yourself on someone as invincible as the Shachou of NG Productions?

Beta Reader: Nzomniac

Word Count: 2984

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Twisted, twisted fucked-upness, violence, drug use, allusions to and threats of rape, language.





Hiroshima

 

 

            Aizawa Tachi took the boy to Hiroshima on the train.  It was risky, but he had to get them out of Tokyo and a vehicle would be too easy to trace.  He didn’t want there to be any clue of where they were, what city they were in.  He chose Hiroshima because he had never been there before he formulated his plan.  He had no friends there, no family.  ASK had never played there.  There was nothing to link him to the city of Hiroshima. 

 

            On the train, the boy, Fujisaki Suguru, nestled in the crook of his arm dead to the world.  Tachi had dressed the boy in a green and black striped jumper, black tights, mary janes, an emerald green band in his dark hair.  Anyone who saw them would think they were a regular couple—a guy with his pretty, teenaged girlfriend asleep beside him on a warm summer night.  Why wouldn’t she be sleeping at two in the morning? 

 

            No one would suspect that earlier that night Tachi had ambushed the kid, shocked him unconscious with a stun gun, and dragged him into the back of the ASK tour van.  Just that first step, just grabbing the kid, had taken a huge amount of planning, vigilance and patience.  The brat really was Seguchi Tohma in training.  He all but lived in the NG studios, a seventeen-year-old workaholic. 

 

“I’m probably doing you a favor,” Tachi had whispered as he shocked the boy. 

 

In the van, he shot Suguru up with sedatives and changed his clothes.  The whole process of undressing and dressing the kid freaked Tachi out.  There was so much touching involved.  Suguru had regained consciousness, but he couldn’t really do anything to help.  He just lay there, eyes open wide and empty.  Tachi had to do everything: lift his hips to take his pants off, then pull the tights up over his thighs, buckle his shoes, and bend his arms to get on the dress.    

 

An hour later, Suguru could more or less walk with guidance.  Tachi steered him through the station and onto the train where he promptly slumped against his captor. 

 

They made it to Hiroshima without incident, but the trouble came when Tachi tried to rouse Suguru enough to walk off the train.  He opened his eyes, let Tachi pull him groggily to his feet, and then started retching.  Everyone in the car was suddenly looking at them.  Tachi would have liked to smack the brat, but that would only make things worse. 

 

“She said she wasn’t feeling well,” he said to the nearest gaper, then to Suguru, “Are you okay, my darling?  I’d better get you home right away.”  A disaster. 

 

Tachi ended up bodily picking Suguru up and carrying him out of the station.  It was a three-block walk to the room he’d rented (paying cash under an assumed name).  By the time they got there, his heart was racing and his head hurt.  He dropped Suguru on the floor, gave him another shot, then swallowed some of his pills.  Painkillers.  They’d become a habit with him when he was in the hospital.  He hated to depend on them, but they were the only thing that kept him calm and thinking clearly, and he really needed that right now.  Now that his plan was finally in motion.

 

Getting pushed in front of a car had shattered him, body and mind.  The whole time he was in the hospital, even after he got out, he’d been numb with the shock of it.  His continued use of Lortab and Percocet long after the physical pain probably didn’t help.  Yet gradually, slowly, despite everything, anger returned to him.  It was like movement returning to a paralyzed limb.  It was coming alive again.  He began to plan.

 

Tachi had his pride.  He didn’t like the idea of anyone fucking him over and walking away even if that person was Seguchi Tohma.  Seguchi had all but killed Tachi when he pushed him in front of that car.  It was only right that he should pay—pain for pain, shattered life for shattered life.  But how do you avenge yourself on someone as invincible as the Shachou of NG Productions?

 

Tachi’s first instinct was to get to Seguchi through Yuki Eiri.  “I love Eiri-san,” Seguchi had said as he pushed Tachi into the street.  “I love him more than anyone else in the world.”  There had to be something there.   

 

Tachi had dug deep into the murder Yuki Eiri committed when he was sixteen.  He got translations of newspaper articles, even of the police reports from the night Kitazawa Yuki died.  He was surprised to find that Seguchi Tohma had been there.  That he’d been the one to find Yuki Eiri after the murder.  That he had been living in Queens with his teenaged brother-in-law, the one he loved more than anyone.  He was the kid’s legal guardian.  His wife and Yuki Eiri’s parents were all back in Japan. 

 

Tachi could only think of one reason a man would have an arrangement like that.  He was fucking the kid, and it looked like a part of a pattern.  Now that Yuki Eiri was in his twenties, Seguchi had found himself another teenage protégé, his cousin Fujisaki Suguru.  He was even the boy’s legal guardian just like he’d been Yuki Eiri’s. 

 

In the police statements, Tachi saw a man he could not recognize as the masterful and impervious Seguchi Tohma.  The man the police had interviewed nearly eight years before was a wreck, shaken to the very core, bursting into tears as he gave his statement.  It was beautiful.  Tachi wished he could have been there. 

 

Then he had thought … why it couldn’t happen again?  He, Aizawa Tachi, could make it happen.  That was his plan, that was the plan.  Crush Seguchi’s current boy-toy and, in the process, rip open all those old wounds. 

 

Tachi opened his eyes and realized it was day.  He’d drifted off, leaving Suguru unbound on the floor.  Luckily, the kid was still out of it, or he could have just walked out of the door.  So careless, he couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that. 

 

Vomit from the night before was still staining Suguru’s dress, in his hair.  At some point, he’d pissed himself.  Tachi was disgusted, but he couldn’t really blame the kid.  He was so doped up he didn’t know any better. 

 

Tachi hauled Suguru into the bathroom, thankful he was such a little slip of a thing.  He pulled off the boys sodden clothes, no less freaked out than he had been the day before.  Maybe it was because he knew what was coming, what was going to happen to that pale, skinny little body. 

 

The kid came around while he was in the bathtub, while Tachi was cleaning him up. 

 

“Who are you?” he muttered, staring into Tachi’s face trying to recognize him.  

 

“You don’t recognize me?” Tachi asked.  The kid shook his head, bewildered.  “You came to see me in the hospital.  I gave you the letter.”  He was surprised at how angry it made him to remember that.  To remember lying in a hospital bed seeing that face, those wide eyes just like his damned cousin’s, through the blur of medication.  Now it was reversed—now Suguru was the one who was helpless, and he had all the power.  

 

“Tell me who I am, Fujisaki Suguru,” he said.  “Tell me my name.” 

 

“I can’t remember…” Suguru stammered.  “I…” 

 

Tachi grabbed his arms, twisted him around onto his stomach, and shoved his face into the bathwater.  Suguru struggled against him with a strength born of desperation.  Cursing, Tachi crouched on top of him, holding him down. 

 

Tachi let him up, just enough to take gasping, choking breaths.  “Do you remember this?”  He started to sing one of ASK’s songs.

 

“Yes, yes, you’re Aizawa Tachi,” Suguru cried, both relieved to have the answer and horrified to realize who it was.  “You’re Aizawa Tachi.  Tachi…  What are you going to do to me?”

 

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

 

The truth was he really wasn’t sure what he was going to do with or to Suguru.  Didn’t know if he was going to kill him, rape him, or pimp his skinny little ass for ten dollars to recreate the whole Yuki Eiri debacle.  He had to decide, decide and do it … but, for the time being, he dragged the boy back to the other room (he was lucid but still foggy with drugs), pushed him on the floor and cuffed one of his hands to the heavy metal bed frame. 

 

“Be a good boy and keep quiet,” Tachi warned, “or I’ll kick your face in.  Here, put these on.”  He tossed Suguru some of his own clothes.  All the thought he’d put into the girl clothes for the train, and he’d forgotten he’d need something for after the ride.  Tachi’s clothes would be too big, but it wasn’t like Suguru was going anywhere. 

 

“Where are we?” Suguru asked in a small voice.  He had pulled the pants on and the shirt was wrapped around him.  He could only get on one arm because of the cuff.    Tachi remembered that when he’d grabbed the kid, there had been a lot of books in his backpack.  Books about Mozart and David Bowie and a volume of the girl’s comic The Rose of Versailles. 

 

“We’re in France,” Tachi lied, swallowing some of his pills.  “We’re just west of Paris.  No one knows we’re here.  No one will ever find you here.”  He drew a finger along the curve of Suguru’s cheek.    “I can do anything I want to you.  You’re mine.” 

 

Suguru started screaming, and Tachi had to beat the shit out of him before he could get the kid still enough to give him another shot.  

 

On the second day, Tachi called Seguchi Tohma’s private line.  It was the same number it had been when ASK was a big deal at the top of the charts.  Someone like Seguchi Tohma didn’t change his number just because one of his angels had fallen. 

 

“Where’s your precious little cousin?” Tachi asked when Seguchi picked up.  “Where’s Suguru-chan?” 

 

There was a long pause, an icy silence, then Seguchi’s voice, high and light, deceptively gentle. 

 

“If you know where my cousin is, Tachi-san, I’d advise you to tell me immediately and put an end to this before you find yourself in a great deal of trouble,” he said.  Tachi shuddered.  He was scared to death of Seguchi, but he wasn’t about to let him know that.

 

“I’ll tell you where your cousin is, Tohma-san.  He’s right here with me,” Tachi said menacingly.  As he spoke, he brought his foot to rest on Suguru’s shoulder.  The boy was huddled on the floor, knees drawn to his chest.  His face was bruised and swollen, but he probably didn’t feel much of anything.  All that fuss over one half-assed caress that had just been meant to scare him. 

 

“I’m afraid he’s not at his prettiest today,” Tachi went on.  “I had to slap him around last night.  Luckily, the guys I’ve got coming over don’t give a shit what his face looks like.  All they care about is his ass.”  Suguru whimpered at his feet.  Tachi started laughing. 

 

“For your own sake, Tachi-san, don’t let this go any further,” Seguchi said.  His voice was calm, as even as a flatline on a hospital monitor.  Tachi shuddered again and hung up. 

 

“This is about him, isn’t it?” Suguru said.  His voice was dull and slurred from the drugs, but it sounded almost like there was an edge of anger to it. 

 

“Of course it is,” Tachi smirked.  “What did you think it was about?  I’m not some kind of pervert who goes around kidnapping little kids.  This is all to fuck up your cousin.”

 

“Then you’re not going to hurt me?”

 

“Sorry, kid, hurting you is exactly how I plan to fuck up your cousin.”

 

Suguru suddenly came to life.  It was scary.  His entire, scrawny-ass self started tearing against the cuffs.

 

“Hey, cut it out,” Tachi yelled. 

 

“Fuck you.  I’m not some appendage of Seguchi Tohma.  I’m not getting raped and murdered because the Shachou pissed off some no-talent psychopath.”

 

“Stop it.  You’re going to break your hands.” 

 

“Fuck you.  Why don’t you chain Tohma-san up if he’s the one you’re mad at?  Or are you afraid to be in the same room as him?”   

 

“Shut up.”

 

Tachi shocked him with the stun gun.  It took a few jolts this time before Suguru crumbled.  His wrists were bleeding, probably something was broken inside.  Tachi moved him onto the bed and switched the cuffs to his ankle.  It was harder to crush a foot than a hand.  He filled a syringe.  If the kid could fight like that, he needed more sedation.  Tachi needed more sedation himself.  His nerves were rattled from dealing with Seguchi, trying to handle Suguru. 

 

What was wrong with him?  Why was this so complicated?  He’d done stuff like this before.  The thing with Shindou Shuuichi had been almost ridiculously easy to set up and carry out.  He wondered what had happened to the guys from that night … he could get them again.  They’d take care of Suguru, then they could dump the brat somewhere for his cousin to find … and he’d take off, find someplace to hide.  Someplace like Hiroshima where he’d never been. 

 

“Fuck,” Tachi muttered.  He wasn’t thinking straight.  He was in Hiroshima.  He’d have to go somewhere else, set something else up paying cash, using fake names, because Seguchi Tohma was going to kill him this time. 

 

More pills. 

 

One mistake and he was going to die. 

 

Suguru was doubled up on the bed, whimpering softly.

 

“What’s the matter kid?” Tachi muttered.  Was it the next day already? 

 

“My stomach,” Suguru moaned.  “Hurts.”  Of course it hurt.  The kid hadn’t eaten in three days.  Tachi hadn’t eaten in three days himself, come to think of it.  His stomach was grinding in on itself, too.  He was just used to it.

 

He went out to the convenience store down the street.  He didn’t have to disguise himself when he went out any more.  ASK was forgotten and, really, he didn’t even look very much like the guy from ASK any more.  Lately he was gaunt, unshaven, his hair unwashed.  Nothing like the guy from ASK. 

 

He bought milk and crackers, fed some to Suguru.  The kid’s wrists were bruised and swollen.  Matched his face. 

 

Tachi laid down next to him on the bed, ran a hand along his thigh.  Maybe he’d do something, finish this.  He pulled Suguru to him, but that was all he managed.  The milk spilled on the mattress and on the floor. 

 

More sedatives for Suguru, more pills for Tachi.  They were about equally out of it, lying on the bed curled together like twins in the womb out of some primitive instinct for warmth or care.  In a moment of twilight lucidity, Suguru sang to himself.  Old David Bowie and Nittle Grasper songs.  Tachi sang with him. 

 

Was this part of the plan?

 

There were bells chiming; it sounded like all the bells in the city ringing all at once.  His head was pounding.  He sat up groggily.  There was someone in the room.  He could feel it.  He could feel eyes on him.  He turned towards Suguru and met Seguchi Tohma’s gaze. 

 

The slender, blond man was cradling Suguru protectively in his arms, but his face was impassive.  He was not weeping or shaken.  He was cool as a marble statue in his orchid suit, something that looked like an origami crane on the brim of his hat. 

 

“How are you making the bells ring?” Tachi asked.

 

“It’s August 6th,” Seguchi Tohma said thoughtfully.  “The anniversary of the day that the atom bomb was dropped.  80,000 people died that day, 60,000 more in the months that followed.  The ultimate manifestation of man’s inhumanity to man.  They ring the bells to remind us there can be something more.”

 

“Kill the motherfucker, Tohma,” Suguru muttered weakly.

“Hush, my darling boy,” Seguchi whispered.  “He’ll be taken care of.”  Suguru snuggled contently against his cousin. 

 

“I hurt you,” Tachi said. 

 

“You hurt yourself, Tachi-san,” Seguchi said.  “You can’t hurt me.  You don’t have the capacity.  You recreated something that once caused me enormous grief, but I’m not the person I was seven years ago.  I trusted Kitazawa Yuki.  I’ve never trusted you.  And I don’t love Suguru-san.  He’s my property—I won’t have him damaged—but I don’t love him.  Not the way I loved Eiri-san then.  I don’t love that way any more.”

 

“Are you going to kill me?” Tachi asked.

 

“That’s hardly necessary,” Seguchi said.  Tachi’s anger flared through his numbness.

 

“I’m going to destroy you, you arrogant bastard!” he screamed.  “I’m going to tell everyone about your little boys and your… your….”  His anger flared, and then it sputtered out in the face of Seguchi Tohma’s indifference.

 

“You’re a very sick boy, Tachi-san,” Seguchi said without emotion.  “I’ve arranged for a car to wait out front for the next two hours.  If you choose to, it will take you to a psychiatric hospital where I’ve arranged to have you admitted.  You were talented.  I’d like to see you pull yourself together, but, if not, I’ll leave you to your needles and pills.” 

 

He lifted Suguru and started towards the door.

 

“Why?” Tachi called after him. 

 

“You really don’t understand it yet, do you?” Seguchi sighed.  “I said before that Suguru-san was my property.  You are as well.  Take care of yourself, Tachi-san.  You belong to me.” 

 

Tachi fell back onto the mattress, with its smell of sour milk and a lingering scent of lilies Seguchi Tohma had left behind.  Outside in Hiroshima, the bells chimed. 

 

 

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