"We're ready when you are, Kaoru-san," the sound-technician behind the thick glass window told the man sitting on a stool, seemingly concentrating on his parts.
He looked up and nodded slightly.
"I'm ready."
The music started and he drifted into the flow of the melody. Looking at his hands almost automatically fingering the right notes. He loved music.
Loved the way different aspects finally blended into one greater harmony.
Or disharmony.
This thought was accompanied by a small smirk.
His solo part coming to an end, he looked to the man booth behind the glass again.
Next to Tatsuya there was another man, eyes hidden behind giant bug-like sunglasses, a knitted cap on the head.
Small nose and a half grin perfected the appearance.

The tone Kaoru was holding died with a unpleasant screech. The string snapped under his fingers, stabbing into his right hand.
He didn't even notice.
He kept looking at the face behind the glass.
_That _ face.

"Kaoru-san?" came a worried voice.

The guitarist blinked.
He could only see one face now, there behind the glass.
The man beside Tatsuya was gone.

Opening the door, Tatsuya rushed to the band-leader. "Kaoru-san?"
The latter seemed to come back out of a trance, eyes empty, slowly filling with life again.
Confused, he stared the man whose puzzled expression mirrored his own perfectly.
Then his gaze shot back to the point where he had seen ... him...
But there was nothing.

"Kaoru-san? Does it hurt?"

"What?" Came the dazed question from the guitarist.

"Your hand," the man pointed to his hand.
Small droplets of blood had run down and left a red path. Some of them marred the surface of his guitar, contrasting red to the black varnished wood.
He hadn't noticed the wound until then. "Ita-ta-ta-taa..." Kaoru hissed.
Tatsuya vanished and returned with some tissues to press against the wound.
Doing so, Kaoru shook his head. Sleep-deprivation could cause hallucinations, he remembered. Deciding that he should take a good nights rest, he removed the guitar.
"What happened?" Tatsuya asked, in a slightly curious yet business-like voice. Kaoru smiled emptily.
"Nothing. The string was worn out. I played too hard probably. Let's retake that tomorrow."
Tatsuya nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.
Bewildered by himself, Kaoru also wiped the blood off his guitar, all the while considering the strange appearance behind the glass.
Concluding that it had been the window, distorting the image of one of Tatsuya's many assistants.
Kaoru was about to walk out, when he turned to the other man once again.
"Tatsuya-san?"
"Hn?"
"Was there someone with you in the booth just now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Another person, was someone with you? Wearing sun-glasses," Kaoru described his impressions.
"No...not as far as I recall..." Tatsuya rubbed his temples. "Are you sure that you are alright."
Kaoru nodded, somehow without real conviction.
"I'll be going. See you tomorrow." He bowed a little and left the studio.
As soon as he left the building, he bit his lip.

Impossible.
Simply impossible.
That face, that man, being there.

He was dead after all, wasn't he?

Kaoru watched the wound on his hand with the interest of someone not really concerned.
Like it was on a photo or in a report on TV.
It was there. It hurt.
But he just didn't feel it.
His whole body was numb.

He had to sleep.
He put a plaster over the small wound and sighed.
His body had to be taken care of. It was his for the rest of his life after all, how long that might be.

Taking himself to bed, he curled into a tight ball.

[But that apparition had almost looked like... Hadn't it?
The nose, small and somehow daring, the bug-like glasses, the smirk. Almost like...like...
Him.]

Just sleep some more...sleep.
Black to dive into, effectively locking out memories.

Why is it so damn cold?

Shivering, making the skin crawl towards his chin, he turned finding no position to sleep.

[Forget what you've seen. Forget him.
He's dead after all.]

He was gone from the surface of this earth and he had been gone for quite some time now.
But he was no more. All of him gone, except maybe some memories scattered in the hearts of many people, slowly fading as they gradually grew old. Like old, worn pictures; loosing meaning and color.

Kaoru was aware of that, he knew that his idol was deceased.

Why had he been there then?
Looking at him, the eyes hidden...

Maybe just someone who looks just a lot like him....he mused, hope lingering at the edges of this thoughts. Someone who most probably loved this man as much as Kaoru did himself and wanted to look just like him.
Or a sick joke of their staff, they were a little respectless and weird after all.
He had to talk to them seriously tomorrow. Teasing was one thing, this was far beyond being comical.

[That must be it.]

Still a little confused, Kaoru clung to the thought like it was an island to be save on. He convinced himself to strongly believe in that, so that sleep could finally claim him.

He had to talk to his staff seriously tomorrow. Teasing was one thing, this was far beyond being comical.

But a shadow of doubt crept through the walls of belief and made his dreams into nightmares.

[Breath has left his body forever. There is nothing left of him, except...
Memories.]

But those were even more painful.
Because they were vivid, even though the person in them was dead, burned, united with the ocean.
hide was as dead as fish in Sushi.
Dead as he had always thought his heart was. His chest was the epitaph for the death of his heart.

But if that was the truth, why was there movement in his chest?
Why did it clench then?

Cringing in a small ball, he closed his eyes in desperation.

[Sleep please come and take me.
I don't want to be here anymore.]

But it didn't come to get him.
And when the alarm told him it was time to get up, he felt like his insides tried to tie him onto the bed.

Very groggy and beside himself he entered the studio.
His guitar was waiting for him, the band was waiting for him, the staff was waiting for him...

[Why does all and everyone depend on me?]

He didn't feel like he could stand much responsibility during the course of this morning, yet there were important decisions to make, refinements to discuss, he had to chew out the staff, photo-shoot dates to set and last but not least...he had to keep up an appearance.

[Am I an act?]

He was about to enter the studio, when suddenly there was this nasal voice behind him: "What was your name again, fanboy?"
The lead-guitarist of Dir en grey froze, a shiver running down his spine.

[Don't turn around.
You didn't have a wink of sleep last night. You're hallucinating.
He cannot be here.
That is a sad but very real fact.]

"Ignoring me? That's a first," the voice mocked him in a friendly tone.

Kaoru shook his head with desperate movements.

"Not ignoring me?" Laughter. "So, why don't you turn around?"

"Go away!", Kaoru pressed out under his coarse breath.

"And there I thought you were after me, pining for me, but it seems I'm wrong, ne?" More laughter, almost bitter. Kaoru felt his thread of patience snap and turned around with a swing.
All he could behold was emptiness.

[More sleep... I definitely need more sleep. Not all of this brooding late at night. I'll get something today and have a good night's sleep.]

He entered the studio and the first the could see was Tatsuya, instead of a 'good morning' he growled: "No kidding around today, is that understood?"
With a baffled face, Tatsuya only nodded submissively.

"Man, what's eating you, leader, huh?", Kyo mumbled, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Kaoru glared at him, in a 'no joking' way, so the singer snorted: "Someone pissed you off?"
"Stuff it, Kyo."
"Yes someone really pissed you off", the singer chuckled. "Who was it? Your lovely fuck-buddy?"
"My what?", the band-leader folded his arms in front of his chest and smirked almost evilly. "Maybe you confuse your sex-bankruptcies with mine. Your last fuck-toy gave you a false name, fucked you, took your money and your playstation, never to return again. What a sweetheart he was, wasn't he?"
Kyo paled visibly, then he snorted grimly: "At least I try to find something for my bed and maybe my life. You are so cold, your little friend is probably frozen."
Kaoru grinned: "You're right. And I want it like that. Now get in and pull out that voice of yours."
Kyo spat out the cigarette and gave him a wrathful look, before he turned and entered the studio.

Startled by his own words and behavior, Kaoru looked at his hands.
[This was beyond friendly banter. This was personal.
You let him get to you, which you never did before. You are the rational one, leader, the voice of reason. This was below par.]

"This happens to the best, fanboy. Maybe he touched something that hurts too much to be ignored and yet you choose to neglect it?"

That voice again, this time right next to his ear.

"Don't tell me about it. I've mastered the art of ignorance a long time ago."
Self-accuse and maybe a little alcohol laced the words.

Kaoru looked up, the anger, the humiliation vaporizing, replaced by fear and irrational hope.
"hide-sama?", the guitarist whispered, beyond all reason

There was nothing, just the busy corridor and people who were hurrying from A to B, while no one could tell why B was more important than A.

Inhaling a shuddering breath, he felt a giant weight returning into his chest. The cold, molten lump that he used to call his heart.
At least Kyo had sex to warm his insides, even when his heart was probably as cold as Kaoru's own.

[hide is dead. Really dead, no life left. He's not here, he will never be here again. Now go and apologize to your singer.]

He opened the door, even though the red light was on and disturbed Kyo's recording session.
The men in the recording booth looked angry at first, but when they saw Kaoru they sank back into faked business.
"Fuck!!", Kyo called out, while turning around. "Kaoru, what the hell...?"
"I'm sorry Kyo. Forgive me, okay?"
The singer frowned, before he shrugged: "Sure thing."
Kaoru nodded gratefully, called a soft apology towards the recording-booth, afterwards leaving the room with long strides.

"Kaoru?" Another empty calling of his name, another human who would make him decide for them. He couldn't stand it. But he had an image and words to keep.
"What is it, Toshiya?"
"No-nothing."
"What are you doing here anyway? It's Kyo's recording day today."
"I know. I just wanted to check on him, you know? After this fucking bastard who stole all of his money he is a little down..." The bassist gave a compassionate smile and shrugged.
"Seemed not very down to me..."; Kaoru pondered.
"You know he won't show it, playing tough and all...", Toshiya shrugged again. "He's stupid that way."
"Nice to know you think our singer is stupid." Kaoru was very arrogant.
"Aw, he knows how I mean it."
The door opened and Toshiya hurried towards the much smaller singer, his goofy grin giving the younger man a stupid appearance himself. Kyo mumbled something like: "Stupid bastard, beat it!!", but was comforted by Toshiya without much more protest.
"Sweet picture isn't it, fanboy? Always try to have good relations inside of your band."
Kaoru's features hardenedd: "Quiet. You are nothing but a fragment of my imagination becuse I am seriously sleep-deprived."
Laughter, amused voice.
"Well, then go and catch some sleep, fan-boy-chan."
The laughter vanished as if a man was walking from him, even the noise of shoes stepping on the shining floor were to be heard. Kaoru shivered.

"I...", he stumbled against the wall, hearing people around him gasp. He pressed tow finger aginst his eyes, wanting to see no more.Next was the benevolent voice of his bassist again.
"Kaoru, what'S wrong?"
He waved the concern and friendliness away, just whispering: "Take care of everything for me, okay?"
Without waitnig for a reply, he left the building again, just half an hour after entering.

He bought the strongest sleeping pills available and took a handful of them, drowning them with a glas of water.
Afterwards he looked into the mirror, pulling his cheeks until he looked as horrible as he felt. The bags under his eyes felt swollen and watery. His skin was somehow greasy and not very presentable.

[Sleep. I need sleep.]

Suddenly a pink reflection was beside his own, not his own purple hair, a real deep pink.
hide-pink.
He twitched and panted.
"Ah, fan-boy. See something pretty?"
His breath hitched in his throat. The face beside his own, this time there was no glasses to hide the eyes. Nothing to hide the fact that there was him: hide.
"You're not real. I know you'Re not real."
His voice was like a bleeding wound in the stillness of his bath-room.
"Ah, denial. Well, well... I like that in a delectable fan-boy. It means resistance."
The hide in the morror smiled, still Kaoru dared not to turn towards the apparition, for it may turn out that he was real. Or maybe he wasn't.
Both alternatives scared him equally.
Obviously the pills also kicked in, he started to feel queasy, the world around him growing fuzzy and indistinct.
"Pills, fan-boy? How rock'n roll of you."
He was too dizzy for a smart remark, he only dragged imself to the bed, falling onto it and slipping into the long-denied realms of Morpheus

Und diesmal wurde der Applaus von Gelächter begleitet.