Summary:Ruki (The Gazette) was never one for letting people see him without his make-up on. Feeling embarrassed by the features he hates, Ruki hides his natural look with heavy paint. So how did Hitsugi (Nightmare/Gremlins) manage to see his naked skin?
The guitarist finally tells the world of the secret relationship he had/has with the singer and how he knocked down Ruki's wall to his natural self. But after giving everything they have and showing their vulnerabilities to each other, will they finally end up together? Or did Ruki never feel the same way as Hitsugi…
JS Mod 1 Comment: This fic was requested by an anon. I do not own Hitsugi or Ruki nor do I know them. This is pure fanfiction written for those who are interested
He was prettier than any girl you could ever lay your eyes on. His small brown eyes were always widened and stretched by liner and thick black mascara. His perfectly shaped lips emphasized by ruby red or brown and gold lipstick. Bronze and light brown blusher was spread across his face to give him a healthy, tanned glow. He dusted foundation on his hands and neck too. Why he wanted to hide such beautiful porcelain skin, I'll never know. Why would he want golden skin when he had such beautiful, natural snowy skin? I swear if he just got rid his fake golden tan, dyed his hair back to its original silky black, he'd look like Snow White- only better in so many ways and far more pretty. He didn't need the ruby red lipstick when he had his natural china face on show. He was so pale that his lips already looked a fascination shade of pink; Almost neon.
Notice that he is a he.
He is prettier than any girl
He has snow-white skin
and he could be snow white.
But only the rare people knew what Ruki really looked like underneath the make-up and clothes. He wasn't beautiful like he was in make-up with the fancy suits. Natural Ruki was strangely alluring, almost odd to look at, at first. But, believe me; you will change your mind of him so fast.
Well, so I've been told.
My reaction was far different.
But then, my first sighting of the natural him, wasn't from an old photograph like many fans had seen. It wasn't from accidently walking in on him in his dressing room either. No, nothing like that.
I could give you the short story, but I don't think you'd get the message and the emotions of everything. From the beginning is always the best place to start, not half way through.
It all started when I was 18. That's when I first met Ruki, but then again he wasn't Ruki yet. Confused? I'll explain -
He was no longer who he started out in life as, Takanori, but was becoming what me and him called 'the in between time'. To make it more simple to understand, he was just starting in the music scene, not yet in his famous band The GazettE, and went by a different name, along with a different musical position. Kihiri, as he was then known, was the drummer for a band that opened for us in the early days. Originally, my band mates and I weren't actually going speak to our opening band that night. We were too busy getting ready for the concert. Actually, that was and is a lie. The truth is we were tired boys who just couldn't be bothered with any kind of conversation where you had try hard. We couldn't be bothered with introductions. Sakito and Ni-ya had got ready in a flash, dashing out the dressing room to speak to our van driver. When I say speak, I guess I should say complain, after all, he had almost made us late from our own show along with almost crashing us into a wall when he was trying to- I'm going off topic! Anyway, Ruka, our drummer, was ready before them, but hung back to mess around with Yomi and myself. Once Yomi was ready though, he wasn't prepared to hang about for me. They headed off to where and for what true reason I don't know and back then I didn't care. I carried on applying my heavy make-up. I was almost ready. My blonde, messy hair was straightened, back combed and sprayed into place, my leather jeans were tightly on, my feet still left bear and lightly chilled. I hadn't yet pulled on my upper garments, simply hiding my 3rd degree scarred sided with a black towel. I tut to myself as the eyeliner pencil goes exactly where I didn't want it to, leaving a black line down my cheek. With a sigh, I turned the line into a sharp, triangular point and carried on applying make-up.
