A Cacophony of Angels
Part II

 
There are few things as terrible as waking up in the body of a dead man.

Granted, it was three years before hide's death, but I'd known of him all my life as the guitarist of X Japan who had died in 1998, four years before I was born. I wasn't hide. I was Kouki Hayashi, the son of Yoshiki Hayashi, American citizen, a high school senior living in Los Angeles. hide was the one who had stolen my father from me.

Not to mention that time travel was supposed to be physically impossible, as was possessing someone else's body. I felt like I'd stepped into a fantasy book or a role playing game.

Or maybe I was going mad.

hide's apartment was relatively large as far as Japanese apartments went, I supposed, but it was cluttered to the point where it felt cramped. Yoshiki carefully maneuvered both of us in the door, his arm still around my shoulders, and led me to the bedroom.

"Can you stand?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and he gently freed his arm from my shoulder.

"I'm going back down to the car to get your guitar. I'll be back, all right?"

I nodded again and he left. I eyed the bed and decided that I should at least sit down. I still felt disoriented, whether from my fall - hide's fall? - or from the fact that I had suddenly been transported twenty-four years back in time into the body of a man who had once been my father's best friend.

Getting some rest didn't seem like a bad idea. Maybe, if I went to sleep, whatever had happened would reverse itself and I'd wake up back in my own bed in LA, with a stack of college forms waiting for me and my father not speaking to me.

Right now, both of those options seemed downright heavenly compared to this.

I had just gotten under the sheets when the front door opened again and then closed and my father appeared in the doorway. Yoshiki. It was weirdly uncomfortable to think of him either way, as if by calling him my father I was trying to transpose a painful memory onto a man who was still happy, and by calling him Yoshiki I had ceased to become my father's son.

He didn't seem to notice my dilemma. "I'll put your guitar in the living room. Get some sleep…I'll be around."

I wanted to call out to him, to ask him what was going on, to make him tell me that this was all a dream, but he was gone before I could open my mouth, and I sank back against the pillows wondering if I could even fall asleep.

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew I was opening my eyes and the room was dark. There had been a few times I had gone off to boy scout camp and woken up in the darkness confused and disoriented, not knowing where I was, but the feeling didn't return this time. I knew exactly where I was, exactly what had happened. Exactly who I was.

And I wasn't Kouki. I was still hide.

I fell back against the pillows, suddenly feeling like crying, trying to hold the tears back. Men didn't cry, especially not me.

Who was I, anyway?

A tear leaked from the corner of my eye and dripped down my cheek onto the pillow and I choked back a sob. I'm not going to cry, I told myself fiercely. I can't cry…what if…Yoshiki walks in and sees me like this?

I blinked my eyes to rid them of any tears, then swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. It took me a moment to find my balance, as hide was slightly taller than Kouki. It felt odd, as if I were walking around in a suit of clothes that had been made for someone else, but I got the hang of it after a few steps.

I could see a mirror to the right of the bedroom door. There was light coming from under the door and the sound of a television muffled through the wood. Yoshiki was watching TV? Interesting…my father was never much of a TV watcher, but perhaps he had been in his younger days. I steered myself - hide - towards the mirror, stopped in front of it and reached over to turn on the light.

He looked just as I remembered him from that old photograph. The pink hair stuck out every which way, not because of any crazy hairstylist but because apparently hide was a restless sleeper. His - my? - face looked tired and drawn and slightly confused. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, watched hide's face smile back. A chill ran through me.

This was going to take some time to get used to…time that I didn't know if I had. Time that I didn't want to have. The sooner I was out of this weird time warp and back in my house in LA, the better.

The door opened.

I jumped, took a step backwards, and tumbled over.

"…hide?"

Yoshiki's voice was worried and I slowly picked myself up, glaring at the carpet, uttering the remark before I fully comprehended what I was saying.

"Damn carpet reached up and tripped me."

It wasn't till it was out of my mouth that I realized that Kouki would never make a comment like that, but apparently hide did all the time, because Yoshiki laughed.

"Looks like you're all better. I made some udon. Want some?"

I got to my feet. "Sure."

Hide's kitchen was small but functional, and the udon steaming on the table made me realize how hungry I was. I slide into my chair and attacked it with the fierceness of a starving animal while Yoshiki watched in amusement.

"Looks like that fall did you good."

I paused with the chopsticks halfway to my mouth, then lowered them and looked at him.

"Why don't you sit down? Yoshiki." The name was still awkward on my tongue, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I have to wash the dishes. Just a second."

He couldn't hear anything with the running water on and I had to finish my dinner, so we worked silently, he at his dishes and me at my udon. The silence was a comfortable one, and by the time I had finished, he had draped the dish towel over the handle of the oven and pulled out the second chair at the small table.

"Slept well?"

I nodded, watching him. It still gave me a shock every time I looked at him to see how young he was. My father hadn't been an old man, but he'd seen his share of injuries and strain from overwork and there was a darkness, a closed door behind his eyes that this Yoshiki didn't have. This Yoshiki was fit, strong, carefree and confident. I could see it in the way he carried himself.

"What's wrong, hide?" he asked sharply. I realized I had been staring.

"Oh…nothing." I looked down at my empty bowl, swirling the leftover drops of soup around with my chopsticks. The tiny oil droplets were sparkling beads in the lamplight.

"You sure you're all right? You don't need to see a doctor?"

"I’m fine," I said quickly, still not looking up. "I guess I just need more rest."

"We all do."

"Say…Yoshiki…"

"What?"

I licked my lips, trying to think of the right words. "Have you ever wondered…what would happen if you…" I stopped. Have you ever wondered what would happen if you woke up in someone else's body? Yeah, that would earn me a trip to the loony bin real fast.

"If what?" he prodded.

"If…if I died?" I said instead. Not necessarily the best alternative, but better than the first. After all, this one did come true.

Though the Yoshiki who was sitting across from me did not know that.

He sounded puzzled. "What?"

"What would happen. You know, to…the band. To everyone, if I died."

"hide, you need to go to bed." He reached over to take the bowl from me, but I snatched it away, finally meeting his gaze.

"I’m serious, Yoshiki."

He stared at me, throat working for a moment, before he said in a low voice, "You're serious, aren't you? You never call me by my full name unless you're serious. hide…are you thinking of killing yourself?"

I hadn't known that hide never called Yoshiki by his full name. Something else to worry about. "No, I'm not thinking of killing myself," I said, trying to sound casual, though the atmosphere was anything but. "But…I was just wondering what you'd do."

He tried to smile. "Go crazy. I don't know what I'd do. The band wouldn't be the same without you, anyway…we'd probably have to disband. People would go nuts…I don't know. I'd probably kill myself too. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Yes, I wanted to say. "No."

He reached over and gripped my arm. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid. If you need to talk…I'm here. We're all here for you, you know that. Is it because of the tour? Do you not want to go on tour? We can push it back."

My mind was spinning. First hide had a pet name for Yoshiki that I didn't know about, and now we were going on tour? I couldn't go on tour with X Japan! I didn't even know how to play guitar!

"No…no…" I stood up, pushing back my chair unsteadily. "I think I need to go back to bed. Good night."

"Good night," came his bewildered voice from behind me, and I pushed the bedroom door shut, collapsing back into bed and staring into the dark in a panic.

I couldn't keep pretending to be hide forever. But if I told the band my story, they'd think I was crazy.

"I can't do this," I whispered into the darkness. "I can't. I can't!"

"Sure you can."

I sat bolt upright, clutching a pillow to my chest and staring around wildly. "Who's there!"

The voice laughed. "Relax. I won't hurt you."

The light came on suddenly, though I was nowhere near the light switch, and I saw him standing there by the window, arms crossed over his chest, looking calm and composed. Yellow sports jacket over blue pants. Pink hair.

I touched my face, my hair. I was still hide. Then who-

"Who do you think I am?"

"There are no such things as ghosts," I said, my voice surprisingly calm as I said the words.

hide snorted. "I wouldn't call myself a ghost. I don't believe in them myself…they're too damn convenient."

"Then who-"

"Call me a spirit. An angel. A demon. Whatever you want." He gestured to himself. "But I'm not transparent or anything, that's for sure."

I started at him again, wondering exactly what was going on, then decided to abandon all logic in the face of the bleak certainty that I was a pawn in a game that I didn't understand. "You did this, didn't you?" I accused, gesturing to the body that wasn't mine. "You did this, somehow. You're a sick bastard."

"I know you don't like me," hide said mildly. "But there's no point in getting all upset about it. What's done is done."

"You mean I'm going to stay like this?"

"No, that's not what I said." hide uncrossed his arms from his chest. "I just wanted you to see…what it was like. You and your father don't get along, do you?"

"That's an understatement," I muttered. "I hate him. Just like I hate you."

"Hate's a strong word."

"I know. I'm using it. Happy?"

"Kouki, I want to give you a chance to see something of what your father never told you. About him. About me. About X Japan. Maybe about you." He opened his mouth, then paused, considered his words. "I don't want to say that I've been watching you, because that sounds creepy, something a ghost would do, and I'm not a ghost. But I've been…watching over your father these twenty-something years. He's not a happy man, you know."

"I don't feel sorry for him."

"You should," hide said quietly. "He has it all, yet he's not happy. One of his best friends severed their friendship completely, taking the band with him. His other best friend killed himself - shit, I'm not proud of that act, but I was young and I was stupid, and I paid the consequences for my stupidity. His father killed himself…his mother died young…his wife was killed in a freak accident. He's seen everyone and everything he's loved taken from him, and you're the only one that's left."

I clambered off the bed, facing hide. It was odd facing a mirror image of myself across the room and I forced myself not to look at our reflections. "I don't know where you got this idea that you can mess with my life," I said, "but I’m not Yoshiki. I’m not my father. I'm not some thing you can manipulate. I'm his son, and I have nothing to do with you or this band!"

"Oh you don't?" hide challenged. "Then why have you been looking up things on the internet about it?"

I looked away. "It was the only way I could find out…who my father was."

I was half-afraid hide was going to say something along the lines of "I told you so," but he merely gazed at me and then nodded, as if deciding something. "He was telling the truth, you know," he said instead. "About killing myself if…when…I died. He wanted to. I was scared he was going to. It's not fun, dying."

"Did you 'stop' him?" I bit out. "Did you possess someone's body and displace them and protect him?"

He didn't get angry at my goading. It was impossible to get a reaction from him. "You're too bitter, Kouki," he said. "You need to let go. Some things are just the way they are, and you can't change that."

"Like my father?"

hide nodded. "Like your father."

"Like me going back in time and pretending to be you."

"Just a glimpse, Kouki," hide said. "Just a glimpse." It seemed to me then that his eyes were immeasurably sad. "I caused grief to one of the people I loved the most. Don't do what I did. I want you to remember that."

"What-" I said, but he was gone. I spun around, searching for him, but the room was empty. If not for the still burning light, I would have said it was a dream.

"hide! Damn it, that's not an explanation!"

I heard footsteps in the hallway and the door opened slightly. "Are you all right?"

"I’m…fine," I said shakily. "Just fine."

"If you say so." The door closed again and I heard Yoshiki go back down the hall. Flopping down on the bed, I tried to calm my shaking nerves.

For all I knew, I could be back in LA tomorrow. Or maybe next year. Or maybe never. I hadn't even had a chance to ask hide. I hadn't had a chance to ask him what this tour thing was that we were supposed to be practicing for, either. Or what hide usually called Yoshiki. Or a thousand other questions that were crowding through my mind.

"Damn you," I said to him, not knowing if he could hear me, but hoping he did. "Damn you, hide…I want to go home."

 
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