A Cacophony of Angels
Part IV

 
We were the first two people in the studio that morning at 8 AM, which wasn't all that surprising, since Yoshiki was the band leader and probably needed to be the first person there anyway. Of course, he'd probably live at the studio if he could.

We hadn't gone very far for dinner last night - a ramen shop down the street, and we'd had a bowl of noodles and a beer each. I wasn't sure what I'd expected to happen, but…nothing happened. I think we said about two words to each other there and back, but somehow we'd had fun. I hadn't had fun like that in a long time, not at parties, not going out with my friends, not watching TV or playing video games. This was a different kind of fun. I was almost disappointed when he'd announced that he was sorry we couldn't do anything more, because he needed to get up early tomorrow and finish some things before picking me up at seven.

Apparently, hide's younger brother lived with him whenever he was in Tokyo and usually was the one who drove him around, but he'd gone to Okinawa for vacation for two weeks and had left the week before my unfortunate...accident. I hadn't learned that from Yoshiki, but rather from a wadded up notepad on hide's coffee table on which were written fragments of scheduling and various phone numbers. Whatever else he was, hide wasn't a big planner.

I unslung my guitar from my bag and unpacked it nervously, fingers touching each of the strings, wondering how the hell I would explain myself if hide's prediction about the guitar playing didn't come true. I'd touched a guitar once or twice, so I knew how to hold it. Father used to bring me to work sometimes when I had been younger and sometimes there would be people recording in the studios. They'd humored Yoshiki's son and let me carry around a guitar or a bass or bang on a drumset, and of course I was always very careful with their instruments, so it hadn't been a problem.

Simply knowing how to hold a guitar, however, was very different from knowing how to play one.

I sighed and leaned back against the wall, watching Yoshiki. He was dressed in black leather pants and an open button-down shirt, had a cigarette in one hand and pages of sheet music in the other, and was deep in conversation with one of the studio techs on the far side of the room. For some reason he looked very natural, relaxed, in tune with himself. It was so refreshing just to watch him, as if by looking at him all my tension had suddenly melted away.

Suddenly he stopped talking and jerked his head in my direction. "hide! Quit wasting time! Hurry up and tune!"

I had no idea how to tune a guitar, but I obediently slipped the strap over my shoulder and grabbed a pick from the veritable sea of guitar picks swimming in the box in my guitar case. It felt cold and awkward in my clammy hands, as I eased my left hand to the neck of the guitar and gently pressed down on the bottom string. Plucked it softly with my other hand. The note sounded, but it was muted and coarse.

Oh, of course. It was an electric guitar and I hadn't plugged it into the amp.

Feeling very stupid, I pushed myself to my feet and dug in my case for the cable, connected it, and turned on the amp. It started to squeal.

"hide!"

"Sorry!" I called apologetically. Yoshiki looked annoyed and I hurriedly switched the amp off as another techie hurried over, waving his arms.

"Let me fix that for you," he stammered, and I nodded in what I hoped was an authoritative manner. He fiddled with a few plugs and cables for a moment and then turned it back on. I tensed, but the squealing appeared have run its course. One thing gone right this morning.

The door swung open.

"Morning, Hayashi. Morning, Matsumoto."

The new arrival looked like he'd driven to the studio still asleep. Either asleep, or hung over, as Toshi would have put it. I was sure this was not Toshi, because I knew Toshi had cut his hair short a few years ago, and this man had long, dark, curly hair and a roundish face and had an instrument slung over one shoulder. I tried to look like I wasn't paying attention as he set his guitar down and took off his large, dark sunglasses and shrugged out of his leather jacket.

"Geez…you feeling all right?" His voice was soft, low, and very pleasant.

"Sure," I said. "I mean, yeah, I feel great. How are you?"

He stared at me for a few moments more, then shook his head and unzipped his instrument case, pulling out a guitar. I was sure it was a guitar - it had six strings. I searched my brain for the limited amount of guitar information I'd attempted to compile over the years. The black, rounded body of the instrument looked familiar…Gibson Les Paul?

This man must be Pata.

"Tuned yet?"

I shook my head again, and he stared at me some more, then sighed and swung the guitar over his head in an easy, natural gesture. "Don't strain yourself thinking too hard," he called over his shoulder as he went to find an amp.

"Speak for yourself!" I yelled after him before I could think, and I heard him laugh. There it had been again, that involuntary reaction. I sat there for a moment, thinking about it, then realized it hadn't bothered me that much this time. It had been nice to feel, if just for a moment, that I really was hide, and that I really was friends with Pata, that he would laugh at my stupid joke.

I hoped that would be enough to justify my need for hide's help with this guitar thing. I had no idea what I was doing.

Besides, he had promised.

From the other side of the room came the sound of Pata warming up, a mass of scales and up and down runs and in general, things that made me feel rather queasy inside. I was supposed to be just as good as he was, and the shape I was in now, I couldn't tell what string was which.

hide…you better help me.

I looked down at the guitar again, and suddenly I felt the hairs on my skin stand up, as if a wind had somehow gusted through the studio. I felt cold, icy cold. My vision blurred, and I couldn't breathe. I opened my mouth to gasp for air-

Blinked. Looked down at the guitar. There had been something strange that had happened just a second ago…but I couldn't remember what it was. It nagged at my brain and I was sure it was important. I knew it was important. It was probably some appointment or date or something that I'd forgotten to write down, and I would miss it and I'd get in trouble and Yoshki would yell at me. As usual.

I needed a planner or something.

Pata was still warming up, and I suddenly realized I'd just been holding the guitar in my hands, sitting there staring off into space. That was odd. Shaking my head again, I reached over, adjusted the volume and overdrive on the amp, and began tuning.

I was in the middle of my chromatic exercise when the door swung open again and Yoshiki made a grumpy noise, a noise that I recognized as the "why-the-hell-are-you-late" noise. I'd gotten it a couple times myself before, but this time it was directed at the two men who strode into the room like they owned the place, both wearing sunglasses and grinning.

Yoshiki made his grumpy noise again and pointed significantly to the clock. I suppressed a smile, pretending to be adjusting a string as I watched out of the corner of my eye. Pata kept right on playing. Heath took off his sunglasses and headed for his corner, ignoring Yoshiki, but Toshi raked a hand through his hair, matching Yoshiki frown for frown.

"Lighten up. It's only five minutes past eight."

"Five minutes late is five minutes wasted," Yoshiki said primly, but I could hear the laughter in his voice as he turned back to his conversation with the tech. Apparently Toshi heard it too, because his grin got wider.

"Morning, Matsumoto. I see you're actually awake today."

I rolled my eyes and said nothing. Yoshiki rapped on the wall.

"We're starting!"

I'd expected it to be at least a semi-productive morning, as morning rehearsals with us usually were, but for some reason nothing went as planned. Both of Yoshiki's drumsticks snapped at the same time and the rest of us took an hour break while a techie scurried off to fetch another pair of drumsticks from the supply room and Toshi and Yoshiki rehearsed Crucify My Love instead. Except that that didn't go as planned either, because Toshi kept looking at us and laughing. I had no idea what was so funny, and from Pata's confused expression, he didn't either, but Heath was laughing right along with him.

Apparently even Yoshiki decided that we needed a good long break, so after the fourth time Toshi had to stop because he was trying not to laugh, the drummer rolled his eyes, stood up, and slammed the lid on the piano. We jumped.

"Break," he announced, and swept out of the room without a second word. I glanced at Pata.

"That was intense," he said, and I nodded sagely.

"Quite."

Heath snickered.

"What is wrong with you people?" Pata demanded.

I was about to make a joking remark to follow up, but suddenly my head exploded with pain and I keeled over, gasping for air. Heath and Toshi were crowded around me in a second, with Pata hanging above them anxiously.

"hide? hide?"

I can't breathe, I wanted to say, but my lungs felt like they were being squeezed and compressed with a giant rubber band, and all I could do was wheeze and grip the edge of my seat as if that would save me from being suffocated. My vision dimmed. Sparks flashed before my eyes in monochrome.

"hide!?"

I willed myself to take just one more deep, gasping breath - and then tumbled forward onto the floor, landing on hands and knees and staring at the tiles like they had just reached up and attacked me.

I was…I touched my head in confusion.

"hide? You all right?"

I looked up into the face that had a minute ago been so familiar and was now foreign, Toshi's eyes worried and a little confused. I took a shuddering breath. I remembered the last few hours, but as if I was viewing a film reel that had been smudged and torn. My skin crawled and I wrapped my arms around myself, unable to stop the shuddering that had suddenly seized me as I realized what had happened.

From the moment I had picked up that guitar, I had no longer been Hayashi Kouki, but Matsumoto Hideto. I hadn't just been in hide's body. I had been hide. I had completely become hide.

The thought terrified me. I had asked hide for help and he had given it to me…but I didn't think I could take anymore of these outer body experiences.

Heath tapped me lightly on the shoulder. "You need anything?"

"I…I'm going outside," I muttered intelligibly. "I need a smoke."

"I'll come with-" Toshi began, but I shook my head as I got up and headed unsteadily for the door.

"No. I'll be fine."

There was a steep flight of stairs leading up to a small balcony of some sort and I climbed them at a half-walk, half-run, as if trying to outrun the spirit that was haunting me, trying to mold me into its own form.

"I promised…" I muttered to myself, staring out at the Tokyo cityscape, clenching my fist on the railing. "I promised him…"

Jamming the cigarette into my mouth, I lit it and inhaled the stuff like it would save my life. My fingers were trembling and I pressed them to my face, feeling the unfamiliar roughness of beginning stubble on my cheeks, a further reminder of who and where I was. I jerked them away, rubbing my palms on the sides of my pants, as if that would remove the memory.

Footsteps.

"hide?"

"Go away," I said, too tired and not even in the mood to guess who it was. A face appeared on my right over the railing, dark eyes regarding me thoughtfully. Heath.

"I'm not going away. What happened back there?"

"None of your business," I snapped, not because I was angry at him, but because the only one I would even consider talking to right now was Yoshiki, and Yoshiki wasn't here. "I don't feel like talking, all right? Leave me alone."

Because the only one I wanted to talk to was Yoshiki…

Before I could even begin to digest the implications of that statement, Heath laughed. "You're so odd, Matsumoto."

I snorted and expelled cigarette smoke gently into the morning breeze. "What, you acting as official envoy for the other two? Did you three draw lots or something to see who to send up here?"

Heath laughed again. "They didn't ask me. I came by myself. Toshi's sitting by himself trying to figure out some part and I know Pata would have come if there wasn't anyone else, but as it was, I was already on my way out the door and he's too lazy to get up when he doesn't have to."

"You got that right," I said without thinking, and the weird feeling slid down my spine again. I ignored it. It was either ignore it or go crazy from trying to second-guess hide, and I didn't feel like dealing with him right now, visible or invisible.

"Anyway," he said conversationally, as if my dizzy spell had never happened and we had just happened to wander out here during a break, "Toshi and I were wanting to ask you something."

I raised my eyebrows. "What?"

"We're thinking of throwing a little…celebration for Yoshiki. Wanna help?"

Yoshiki? Was there some special occasion? I racked my brain for memories of any celebrations that my father had held in October, but there were none. "Why?" I asked.

Heath shrugged. "No reason. Because we're all tired and we need a break. You heard our practice today. Because it's Yoshiki and he works too damn hard and he needs a break. Because Toshi and I and Pata are bored out of our minds and we don't want to do real work." He grinned. "That reason enough?"

"Is that why you and Toshi were acting like two-year-olds during practice?"

Heath's grin got wider. "How in the world did you guess?"

Watching him, I couldn't help but grin too. I could get used to this, talking to Heath. There as never much on the guy when I was researching X Japan, but I liked what I saw now. Even looking at his profile as he rested his arms on the railing and relaxed into the wind was peaceful. With Yoshiki, there was a sense of tranquility, but the tranquility of a dormant volcano, sparks dancing upon the surface of the calm that he exuded, strong and unpredictable. With Heath, there was none of that. Heath's happiness seemed almost childish, his open smile and relaxed stance contrasting vividly with the pictures I'd seen of him from photoshoots. The public Heath was mysterious, exotic, mercurial, but the Heath that stood next to me had no mysterious layers, no secrets.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that being in X Japan wasn't just about being in a band, any band. Or that even being in a band wasn't just about a career, a profession. Heath was in X Japan because he loved it.

"So what do you think?" he said, turning to me expectantly, and I realized he had been talking for the last few minutes and I hadn't heard a word he had said.

"Uh…" I stammered.

He sighed good-naturedly. "Just as I thought, you haven't been listening. That's ok. I'll get Toshi to talk to you or something after practice. Enjoy your cigarette, ok?"

"Hey!" I protested, but he turned with a wave and jogged back down the stairs, leaving me staring at the cigarette in my fingers and wondering what he'd meant by "celebration for Yoshiki." Damn me and my over-philosophical thoughts. Or was it hide and his over-philosophical thoughts?

Never mind.

"Oi! Matsumoto! Practice!"

I ground the cigarette under my boot and headed wearily back down the stairs, not even wanting to think about what would happen when I picked up my guitar again. Yoshiki was sitting at the piano, looking put-upon, and Toshi was standing beside, him, pointing to a line on the music score and trying to argue. I wasn't hide at the moment, but even I knew who would win that argument.

"I'm back," I said, and Yoshiki looked up, smiling uncertainly.

"You all right?"

I waved him off. "I’m fine, I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"Just checking," he said, and Toshi whacked him on the head with the score. He swung around, grabbing at it as the vocalist tossed it into the corner, out of reach. "Hey! Bastard."

Toshi grinned.

I gingerly touched one finger to the guitar that lay harmlessly on top of my case. Nothing happened. I picked it up, slinging it over my head quickly, as if by doing so, I could prevent hide from playing whatever card he had up his sleeve this time.

Again, nothing happened.

I wasn't sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or to start worrying. On one hand, it was comforting to be retaining control of my own mind. On the other hand, I still didn't know how to play the guitar.

"hide! Quit staring…time to get serious!" "

I snapped my head around to glance at Yoshiki, who had moved back behind the drums and was gesturing at me with his new set of drumsticks. I made what I hoped was a gesture of acknowledgment, and he cleared his throat. "Rusty Nail. Everyone got it?"

Before I could protest, he was already clicking the four preparatory beats, and as his drumsticks came together for the last time, I felt a ghost of a presence, a wisp of…something. I knew something was there behind me, but at the same time I knew that if I turned around, there would be nothing. I felt my hands tingle, felt the fingers of my left hand glide gently down the strings and press down. Felt my other hand move the pick.

It was eerily fascinating to see my hands move on their own without me guiding them as they sounded out the opening notes of the song with effortless ease. I willed myself to keep the expression on my face stoic, nonchalant, as I stood and let hide move my fingers for me, let him play his guitar as it was meant to be played, as I stared at the wall and hoped that my unconscious thought wouldn't cause him to make a mistake.

Let go, Kouki.

I froze, then forced myself to relax. Had that been…

You're not letting me play, Kouki. Let go. Enjoy the music. Stop trying to fight me.

I cast a glance sideways at Pata, who had an easy grin on his face as he picked his away across the fretboard into the bridge, then looked at Toshi, who was staring at me with a quizzical expression. I looked away quickly.

I can't… I said desperately. I don't know how.

Sure you can.

Before I could reply, the song was over.

"Something was off," Heath announced. "It was one of the guitars. hide, you sure you're all right?"

I glared at him, trying to make it look convincing.

Yoshiki sighed. "I think he's tired of people asking him that. Leave it."

Heath shrugged. "Just trying to help." He ran a finger down the edge of his bass and grinned. "Anyway, one of you was a little off through the entire song. Might have been just me, though."

"hide," Yoshiki said. "Pay attention."

"I’m trying, all right? I'm trying." I looked across the room at Yoshiki, seeing the face of the man who would someday become my father, hearing in his voice in that moment the tone of voice I would become used to hearing. Don't do that, Kouki. Don't touch that. Don't go there. Don't. Don't. Don't.

"Let's get out of here," Heath broke in. "Yoshiki, we're not getting anything done. Let's break for the rest of the day, come back tomorrow? I bet hide's still a little sore from his fall the other day."

Yoshiki looked dubiously at me and I tried my best to look confused. The sooner I could get out of this studio the better.

"I don't think so," he said after a moment, but Toshi came to my rescue. I saw him catch Heath's eye. The two of them were definitely up to something.

"He looks kind of pale," he said. "I think he needs to go to bed."

"Look, Deyama Toshimitsu, just because you wanted to be a doctor does not make you a-"

"I’m leaving," someone announced calmly in the background and I turned to see Pata with his guitar case over his shoulder, smiling happily and heading out the door. I realized that as the three of them had been standing there arguing, he'd calmly picked up his belongings and packed up. A smart move. He waved as the door slammed behind him.

"Plotting against me, I see," Yoshiki muttered, but there was no real vehemence in his voice. "All right, fine. See you all tomorrow. Heath, give hide a ride home. I need to stay behind for work."

"Sure," the bassist said happily. Perhaps a little too happily. I looked suspiciously at him, then at Toshi, then back at him, but he simply gave me another innocent smile and unplugged his bass. I sighed.

It wasn't till we were out the door that I realized we weren't heading to the parking lot, but out into the street. I also realized that Toshi was with us. I stopped in my tracks, folding my arms.

"All right," I said, "what's going on?"

"Well, you see," Toshi said thoughtfully, "it's two-fold. We noticed you didn't look like you were feeling well, and decided it must be from lack of alcohol consumption. And also, what better time to plot-"

"Plan," corrected Heath.

"I’m sorry," Toshi said, grinning wickedly. "-plan for Yoshiki's surprise?"

I rubbed my eyes. If I were the real hide, no doubt I would be up to whatever they were planning or plotting, but I wasn't the real hide and I needed to go home, to crawl into bed and to shut myself off from the world for a while and contemplate the stupidity that had landed me into this mess in the first place. "Guys, I really don't-"

"Oh, come on, Matsumoto. It'll be fun!" Heath waved his arms wildly as a cab came roaring down the road, and it screeched to a stop. "Ladies first," he said, gesturing to me and I gave him a long-suffering look and crawled inside. I didn't want to be here. I didn't even want to be in Tokyo in hide's apartment alone. I wanted to be back in LA, in 2019.

If I'd been alone, I probably would have cried again, but I didn't think Heath and Toshi would take as kindly to my tears as hide had. So I sat there and said nothing as the other two crowded in next to me. Toshi touched me on the arm.

"Hey, we were just playing…if you really don't want to be here, we can ask the cab to take you home first…"

"No," I said roughly. "I'm all right."

He looked like he was about to ask me if I was sure, but probably realized I'd had that question thrown at me more than enough times today, because instead, he just smiled and said something to Heath too low for me to hear. I tuned them out and cast a look at the cab driver, who didn't seem all that excited to have three cult icons sitting in the back seat of his cab. Or maybe, judging from the enka coming from the cab speakers, he just wasn't into popular music.

"Everyone settled?" the bassist asked. "Hang on, traffic's a bit rough."

I looked over at him. "Heath?"

"Yeah?"

"Where…exactly are we going?"

He flashed me a brilliant smile, then leaned over to the front seat to the driver. "Roppongi," he said, the single word a shiver of roguish excitement from his lips. "X Japan is going to Roppongi for the day."

 
back to part III | to part V