Title: Capture the Elusive
Author: Chantrea Johari
Fandom: JRock, Dir en grey
Pairings: Kaoru x Die, Shinya x Kyo
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: "If you really loved me, you wouldn't make me keep watching you hurt yourself."
Warnings: liberal discussion of eating disorders, with a bit of alcoholism, and perhaps other issues.
Notes: For my darling krisskyo, because she is the love of my life, and when she says, "Jump," I say, "How high?" "Where?" and "Would you like me to be naked while doing it?" XD The story is told in two plotlines: the first is the one in near present time (beginning in 2006) and is told fully chronologically. The second is told in flashbacks that are varied, but all dated, in order to fill in the necessary backstory. I hope it doesn't confuse anyone too much. ^^;;

-2006-

Kaoru wasn’t fully sure if it was because of Shinya’s vague warning that he started noticing the overpowering amount of change in Die’s behavior, or if it had just begun—but it was painful to think that it had been occurring that way all along and he had somehow simply missed it. It felt like some gross negligence on his part, to think that he had been so preoccupied by work that he hadn’t noticed a complete revolution in his lover’s behavior. Using work as an explanation seemed more like grasping guiltily for an excuse, and Kaoru felt like a terrible person for it.

When he came home that evening, he found Die in a frenzy; the moment he slipped the door open, he heard the sound of loud crashing from the bedroom. The whole foyer was in shambles, clothing and papers strewn everywhere; it looked ransacked, as if someone had attempted to rob the place, with drawers pulled out and stripped of their contents, things turned upside down, as if in extreme haste.

Kaoru felt a sense of panic settle into his chest the moment he saw the room—because it was difficult to believe that someone hadn’t found their way in somehow and truly tried to rob it, because the utter destruction of everything didn’t speak of something that Die or any of the others, all of whom had a key, could do. The fact that he could still hear shuffling and banging from the bedroom made Kaoru even more afraid—because dozens of painful scenarios went through his head, about how Die could be injured somewhere by a malicious intruder, or even just an overzealous fan.

“Die?” he called a moment later, before cursing himself silently—calling out to his lover had been his first instinct, but it struck him, in hindsight, that he most likely should have kept quiet. If there truly was someone in the apartment who shouldn’t be there, it wouldn’t exactly be the smartest idea to announce his presence—but it was done already, and Kaoru fervently hoped, over the pounding of his heart, that he was wrong in his suspicions about what was going on in his home, his little sanctuary.

“K-kaoru?” came the distracted, slightly wavering response—and Kaoru’s eyes widened at the sound of Die’s voice. He sounded weak, panicked, almost afraid—and the knowledge that he was there and able to speak was a bit of a reassurance while the condition of his voice only sent a new shock of alarm through Kaoru’s limbs. He rushed as quickly as he could to the bedroom, following the sound of Die’s voice.

“Die? Are you okay?” Kaoru called breathlessly as he dashed toward the bedroom, picking his way through the disaster that had once been his living room to get there, uncaring as he heard something crunch under his boot, something that could very possibly be valuable. But Die’s safety was his first concern at that point—his only concern—because if Die wasn’t okay, then nothing else mattered.

The first thing Kaoru noticed as he stopped outside the door to his own bedroom—though he’d long ago begun to think of the space as theirs rather than his—was that Die was standing upright, seemed to be okay…except that his head was buried in the closet, his body hunched over as the sound of rustling came from behind the door. But Die was clearly uninjured, and Kaoru finally sucked in a relieved breath at that realization.

The second thing that Kaoru noticed was that the bedroom was in the same chaos as the front room had been—the sheets were ripped away from the bed, crumpled at its foot; the drawers were all pulled out, clothing was strewn about, and the floor was a complete mess.

And it struck Kaoru after only a brief moment, from the way that Die was rooting frantically through the closet, that the other guitarist was the one responsible for this fiasco—him, and him alone. It was difficult to believe that one man could be solely responsible for all this disorder, but Die was here alone, Die was still fumbling through things, and it seemed the only possible conclusion.

Die didn’t answer the question, and Kaoru wasn’t sure the other man had even heard his inquiry, so intent was he on his task. He seemed to be searching for something, desperately—and Kaoru wondered what could be so important that it would cause Die to rip his whole apartment almost entirely to shreds. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Die this frenzied, this hysterical—and it was almost frightening to watch, had Kaoru grasping, helplessly, for a proper way to react.

“Die? What are you doing?” Kaoru murmured slowly, repeating his lover’s name in an attempt to capture the other man’s attention—and Die seemed to notice, this time, that Kaoru was speaking to him. Perhaps his concentration had been broken a bit, or perhaps Kaoru’s closer proximity made him harder to ignore—Kaoru wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but be anything but grateful as Die’s eyes fell upon him, as his own gaze captured Die’s familiar features.

Except what he saw in Die’s eyes was troubling—frenzied panic, a caged, desperate look that Kaoru recognized but couldn’t quite place. It caused a lump to settle low in Kaoru’s throat, one that made it strangely difficult to breathe—and he wasn’t sure why he had reacted that way, but he couldn’t help the involuntary response.

“I…I just lost something,” Die mumbled beneath his breath, the words so low and rushed that it was difficult for Kaoru to pick out exactly what the other guitarist was actually saying. Kaoru stared at him for a long moment in incomprehension—because it was even more difficult to believe that any item was essential enough to Die to cause him to create this sort of pandemonium in order to find it. Still, though, Kaoru tried not to overreact, tried to calm his own desperate confusion.

“What did you lose?” Kaoru managed to force out after a moment, watching as Die’s eyes darted around the room, as if continuing to search for whatever he was seeking even as he spoke with his lover. He seemed to regard the conversation with a sense of distraction, barely able to concentrate on it past his desperate need to discover whatever he had lost. “I’ll help you look for it.”

Die’s eyes darted over to his lover suddenly, looking startled—as if he hadn’t expected the offer. A fog cleared from his eyes, as if he had just then realized that he was having a conversation with the other man—as if he had been continuing on autopilot while the totality of his focus had remained on the task he had so been absorbed in when Kaoru had first entered.

And an odd fear returned to his eyes at the realization that Kaoru’s concentration was on him, and he glanced around the room once more—and he seemed to realize for the first time, then, the mayhem that he’d created in his hunt. His face flushed deep red as awareness settled over him, and he ducked his head in embarrassment, lowering his eyes.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll…find it,” Die tried to dismiss quickly, as if attempting to throw the attention away from the item, from his desperation in his search for it. But Kaoru wasn’t going to be thrown off the scent that quickly; the defensiveness of Die’s actions, mingled with Shinya’s earlier warning, had piqued his interest in a rather extreme way.

“Die, you just ripped my apartment to shreds. I think I deserve to know what you’re looking for,” Kaoru pointed out impatiently after a moment, raising a pointed eyebrow at Die. The other man cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I…uh….sorry about that. I’ll clean it up,” Die promised immediately, still avoiding Kaoru’s second inquiry, trying to weasel his way out of answering the question. Kaoru released an exasperated sigh.

“Die,” he murmured warningly. The other man shifted uncomfortably in response.

“It’s just…alittlerednotebook,” Die answered in a long rush of breath, his words running together in his haste to get them spoken.

Kaoru’s brow furrowed as he stared at his lover in confusion—because the dismissive tone in which Die tried to speak of what seemed such an insignificant item made it appear even odder that he would be in such a frenzy to find it. Still, though, he tried not to pry; just because Die was his lover, and had been for some time, didn’t mean that he didn’t deserve a measure of privacy—even though Kaoru wanted, very badly, to ask.

“I’ll…look over here,” Kaoru offered gently, letting his words trail off meaningfully, giving Die a chance to elaborate on the importance of this notebook. Die didn’t, though—he just nodded distractedly and turned back to the closet without a word, returning to delving keenly through it. With a puzzled frown, Kaoru turned and did as he had said, beginning to search on the other side of the bedroom.

He fumbled through a few of the unopened drawers—and he was surprised as, just a few moments later, he found a small red notebook sitting at the top of a drawer, in plain sight. It was almost ironic that it was one of the few that Die hadn’t yet gotten to—but it wasn’t surprising, he supposed, since the drawer was on Kaoru’s side of the bed. He wasn’t sure why the notebook would be there in the first place; Die wasn’t in the habit of leaving things in Kaoru’s drawers. It seemed almost as if it had been placed there by someone unfamiliar with the layout of their bedroom, with the rather informal distribution of space between the two of them.

The desire to just slip open the cover of the notebook, to try to discern exactly what was so important about it, burned strongly in Kaoru’s chest—and his fingers itched to do so, though his psyche was quick to remind him that it would be a bad idea. He couldn’t let himself betray Die like that, no matter how curious he was. Frustrated at the war between his conscience and his inquisitiveness, Kaoru turned to his lover.

“Is this it?” he asked with a tired sigh, holding up the notebook for inspection. Die’s body whipped around in surprise at the inquiry, widened as they fell upon the bound stack of paper in his lover’s hand.

“I…didn’t leave it there,” he murmured in bewilderment, looking both perplexed and slightly flustered at the sight of it in his lover’s hand. Kaoru saw Die’s fingers twitch, as if fighting not to snatch the notebook out of Kaoru’s hands—and that only re-emphasized the importance of the small notebook, made Kaoru wish, belatedly, that he had snuck a peek despite his better judgment. But it was too late, then.

“Here,” he offered with a soft sigh, taking a step toward Die and holding out the notebook—and Die looked immensely relieved, stepped forward as well and seized the item from Kaoru’s hand in a quick movement.

“Thanks,” Die murmured quickly before tucking the notebook away in a drawer, as if trying to hide it from view. And that only made Kaoru even more suspicious, made him more convinced that Shinya was right: something was desperately wrong with Die. Kaoru just wasn’t sure what that something was yet.

Kaoru felt himself being gently jolted awake before he was ready; his body was still exhausted, and his eyes had that uncomfortably sleepy feeling in them still. His limbs felt sluggish and tired, and he rolled over with a soft groan, wondering what had caused him to awaken. The bedroom was quiet, no recognizable ringing of the alarm clock that was usually what jerked him, rather uncomfortably, into wakefulness. But Kaoru couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes at first in order to investigate.

“Die, it’s five in the morning,” Kaoru mumbled finally, his tone low and slurred still, despite his best efforts to pull himself out of his sleepy stupor. He felt as if he had just barely fallen asleep, and in reality, he had; he hadn’t quite recovered from the unexpected rousing yet. “What’re you doing up?”

Die seemed taken aback by the question, let out a long, surprised-sounding, “oh,” before making any attempt to speak coherently. He seemed to be pausing to decide on his words, because the room fell silent for a moment save for their mingled breathing before Die’s voice piped through the calm finally.