Prompt: 071 ~ Broken May 2011©
Fandom: Alice Nine
Focus: Hiroto x Chisa
Word Count: 1,187
Fandom: Alice Nine
Focus: Hiroto x Chisa
Word Count: 1,187
It had been nearly a month since Hiroto and Chisa had broken it off.
After having spent a year without a single spat of note to speak of, they’d suddenly blown up at each other over how Chisa would be spending her summer. It had been almost an entire month and the world still seemed cold and empty to Hiroto, still broken beyond repair.
His Alice Nine members had tried to help, but while their relationships were still going so strong, there was only so much they could do. Their words of comfort and solace weren’t exactly worth very much to him at the moment.
So here he was, living the rockstar life in a five star hotel with some sort of alcohol in his hand and a pretty, half naked hooker holding his cigarette for him as he just let the world blow by. Since Alice Nine wasn’t touring at the moment, and they didn’t have an album ready to get down to work on, Hiroto had hardly done more than glance at the guitar he always kept with him in a month. He’d taught Chisa how to play on it after all.
But now, the girl that was in the hotel room with him was asking for a song.
Hiroto brushed her aside, taking his cigarette into his own hand.
Chisa had disapproved of his smoking habit. She’d called Tora a bad influence on him because of it, despite the fact that it was really only due to Tora’s influence that he was able to keep his cool on tour at all. The stresses of the business would have driven him insane had it not been for Tora’s influence. Chisa had known all that. Her ragging on Tora for his smoking habit that had seemed to pass to Hiroto had been mostly teasing. She'd accepted the necessity of it. But she really had disapproved.
Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Hiroto watched as the girl, whatever her name was, ran her fingers seductively over her toned stomach. It was flat and strong and the definition of sexy, but even though he could acknowledge that fact, and was staring right at it, Hiroto felt absolutely nothing.
This girl, woman rather, was clad in sexy lingerie and had years of experience under her garter belt. Yet nothing that she did could make Hiroto respond to her any more than the mechanics of biology demanded. There was nothing she could do to get his mind engaged in her seduction, nothing at all.
She drew her fingers along the lines of his chest, her nails brushing along the contours of his muscles. Her fingers paused when they met the chain of the necklace he was wearing. She tried to whisper conspiratorially to him, to get him on an inside joke with her, “This is such an ugly little trinket, I would have expected something a little more flashy from such a big bad rockstar.”
Hiroto’s hand flew to hers as he felt her begin to tug at the chain. He peeled her fingers away and returned the necklace to lying against his chest as he moved away from her. He barely hesitated to haul himself completely away, getting to his feet and lurching over to settle heavily into the loveseat.
After a moment of surprise at his reaction, she followed.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” she crooned, coming over to sit on his lap with a beer in her hand. She took a swig as she settled on his lap. She purred in his ear, “You paid for the whole night; you should at least get your money’s worth.”
Noncommittally, Hiroto let her let her roll her hips against him, looking past her rather than at her even as his body began to respond to her ministrations. Her hair was short, the red waves cropped to her chin. She was spunky and sweet with a mischievous glint to her eye, just Hiroto’s type. And she was well trained, and highly talented, in her trade, so even though Hiroto’s mind wasn’t in the game with her, his body couldn’t help but to respond.
The tension in his body felt entirely disjoined from the loose boredom coating his thoughts like sticky syrup. The girl was gorgeous, but there was something about her that was just not quite right. Her hips were just a bit too wide and her muscles just a bit too toned. Her forehead was too big and her chin wasn’t sloped at quite the right angle. She was appealing, alluring even, but she wasn’t quite perfect.
She wasn’t perfect, because she wasn’t Chisa.
Something clicked inside Hiroto at the realization and he reached up to pull his necklace over his head. Staring at it, he mused that the chain it was crafted from was more battered than he could even remember. It had been snapped and stretched and warped countless times; from catching on things, being yanked by fans, it had even been confused for a chew toy by Mogu a few times. It didn’t matter though, as long as he didn’t lose any of the links they could be soldered back together. It could always be repaired, made even stronger.
He’d been stupid not to see it sooner.
It didn’t matter that the exact issues of the fight were blurs to Hiroto’s memory. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember what caused it, or that he wasn’t sure why it blown up like it did. He didn’t know how to fix it, but he knew that he could.
He’d seen it happen. In his PSC family, there were some legendary spats between soul-mates. People that no one questioned belonged together for even an instant fought so virulently that outsiders worried for their own safety. But no matter how bad it got, no matter how long they went without speaking, or how often they threw things at each other, or screamed, or swore, or even walked away entirely, it always got better. It was always entirely worth it.
Even though Hiroto’s whole world was cold and broken right now, it could be fixed. Anything broken could be repaired, given proper time and attention. It was just a matter of working out the details of how to fix it. But if you really wanted it, anything broken could be fixed.
And Hiroto wanted it.
He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. Even the super stardom he’d clawed his way to hadn’t been hadn’t been as desperately acute a desire. He wanted to become a famous guitarist. He needed to get Chisa back.
Pushing the woman off of him, this time in a more gentle and considerate action, he said, “Enjoy the room, and keep the money. I have somewhere to go.”
“Are you okay?” the woman was wary of the sudden change in him, the change in his mood couldn’t have been missed even if she’d tried to ignore it.
Hiroto balled the necklace up in his hand and grabbed the strap of his guitar case. The strap’s connection had been banged up at the last Alice Nine concert he’d brought it too so it hung awkwardly beside him, but that could be fixed later.
Everything broken could be fixed.