Summary: When Tohma and Mika's marriage falls apart, Noriko and Ryuuichi are there to help them piece together their broken hearts. What remains to be seen is if the support of friendship will help repair their relationship or if infidelity will tear them further apart… Yaoi, yuri, and some het lovin' too. Fair warning: This fic may include ideas or circumstances that irk those who are irked by homosexuality, heterosexuality, adultery, and the women's liberation movement … (also hippies). Ships: (in order of appearance) Mika/Tohma, Mika/Noriko, Ryuuichi/Tohma

Rated: M for cussing, sex, cussing during sex, and extra-marital excursions (seriously kids, don't try this at home ;D.)

Author's Notes: Mika is a character I have felt to be ignored by character and fan alike. I was drawn to her strength, though, and observing the spacious leeway for character development, was forced to create something a little more for her. A spotlight fic is no more than she deserves. Tohma, on the other hand, reminds me of myself and, so, absolutely must be included. I've tried to do justice to both sides of a conflict, a task I know is not easy. Please review. Be as cruel as you must. (In fact, please be cruel. Kindness is rarely constructive…)

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Chapter 1: Mist

Mika was alone again. She was used to being alone, but today was her anniversary. No, our anniversary, she thought, bitterly. Tohma, she knew, had not forgotten, but had consciously neglected his plans of a quiet candlelit dinner with his wife in favor of "more pressing involvements" as he would call them when he shuffled into their home late that night. Mika sighed and paused from her pacing of the living room floor. She glanced at the phone. She longed to see the small red light by the receiver blink to tell her Tohma had called, but she knew better. He would not bother. He never bothered. He just didn't care to. Mika's self-absorbed, workaholic, chronically absent husband would again stand her up. She felt like a rejected prom date.

She stopped by the small window overlooking the driveway and wrapped her arms around her, shivering. Had it really been eight years since that first night they'd spent as husband and wife? Eight years since Seguchi Tohma, barely a blip on the music industry radar, had easily scooped her up, despite her height, and stumbled through the door of their hotel room, laughing as he dropped her gracelessly onto the bed. Eight years since he'd stretched out beside her and ran his hands across the white lace of her bodice and whispered, "I love you." Eight years since his careful hands had untied the laces binding her gown around her and slid each layer off of her, slowly; since he'd shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and let her, now only in her bra and panties, unhook his cummerbund and tug each button of his shirt loose as he picked bobby pins out of her bun. Eight years since their untasted champagne went flat, ignored on the bed-stand.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x



Tohma picked up his coat and put it back down for the third time as his office phone rang once again. His hand hesitated over the receiver before he made up his mind not to let the machine answer.

"Moshi moshi, Seguchi da," he curtly quipped. His mind barely registered what the soft spoken, apologetic voice on the other end was saying to him. Yes, he'd heard the demo. Yes, it was good. Yes, he'd meet with a representative. He scribbled a date down and hung up the phone, once more reaching for his coat. He hurried from his office before he could be delayed again and glanced at his watch. Shit; it was already after 8. His stomach twisted uncomfortably with guilt as he made his way from the NG headquarters.

Seguchi Tohma never broke a promise, unless that promise was to Mika. He had, after all, vowed to her, and to God, that he would put her before all else, honor her with every breath in his body, and love her with every beat of his heart. He'd vowed this at an altar as her slid a ring around her long, slender finger and leaned in to seal their lives eternally together with a kiss. He'd vowed it again as she pressed her naked body against his and, for the first time as husband and wife, he'd pushed inside her, trembling as her moan echoed through his entire body. "Forever," he'd gasped, and she'd kissed him, deeply, passionately, lovingly.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

A knock on the door woke Mika from her heavyhearted daze. Who would call at this hour? A glance through the peephole revealed little more than a fuzzy mass of purple, but it was enough.

"Noriko-chan!" Mika exclaimed as she flung the door open and greeted her old friend with a warm hug. "What brings you here?"

"Don't play dumb Mika. I know for a fact that your lousy husband is still traipsing around his office and completely ignoring his beautiful wife on this, the most sacred day of a married couple's year!" Her tone was melodramatically woeful. She stepped inside, throwing a outturned palm to her forehead and sighed. Noriko's act was applauded with only a wry smile from Mika so she dropped her ploy and instead took Mika by the hands and looked at her seriously. "What can I do?"

"Nothing. Don't worry Noriko. He does this to me every year. I'm more than used to it. See, I didn't even put makeup on because I knew I wouldn't be going out," Mika said with a shrug. "And in an hour or so, he'll come shuffling in with an apology and no excuse. He'll kiss me once, say he's tired and go to bed where he'll fall asleep in exactly one minute and forty-three seconds."

"Oh, now you can't say that! Last year it took him a whole two minutes to fall asleep!"

"Last year you were still here and he fell asleep while you were yelling at him." Mika let a chuckle escape her at last. Despite her disappointment over Tohma, she was happy to have Noriko here. So rarely did Mika have an intimate moment with her close friend, she often felt 

like an unexpected phone call would be intruding on a stranger. Mika sighed again and started to sit but Noriko was too quick for her. She grabbed Mika by the wrists and pulled her startled friend toward the door. "Let's go out, Mika." Noriko smiled mischievously. "Girls' night out. No husbands, no boyfriends, just us. Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I- I- I shouldn't! I mean, Tohma won't be that long-"

"You should! You should not sit around here like some sad pet dog and wait for that old cog to drag his neglectful ass home. We're going out. Like it or not." Noriko put her hands on her hips, pursed her lips and froze in a pose that left no argument.

Mika sighed and stood. "Alright, alright. Just let me get presentable…"

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Tohma slowly walked up to his house, checking his watch. Eight-thirty. It wasn't so late he couldn't eat dinner with Mika. He wouldn't let this year be like last. He'd at least have a meal and a conversation with Mika. A conversation. God, what a man he was, going home to talk to his woman. He opened his front door and called nervously, "Tadaima!" He fully expected his wife to announce her presence with an angry remark at his lateness and certainly at least half-expected his flamboyant fellow keyboardist to barrage him with a tirade twice as angry with interminably fouler language. He waited a moment. Still no yelling. No sound of tapping or pacing feet, no melancholy sighs, no huffing or even a strained hello.

Tohma walked from room to room, searching every last crevasse of his house for some sign of Mika. He found nothing. Returning to the kitchen opened the refrigerator. Mika had not made dinner. He scanned the counter and found… not even a note. He stood, head hung in silence, for once at a loss.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Mika and Noriko began their night with dinner at an upscale restaurant that always served the best fresh catch. Silver clicked gently all around them as the familiar tastes of old favorites brought back fond reminiscence. It was good to revel in the past. The surety of resolved trials brought the troubled trophy wife some much needed respite from dwelling in a worrisome future and bitter present.

"I can't believe it's October already!" Noriko marveled in response to reveries of Halloween parties past. There had been a particularly memorable occasion on which Mika's sour tempered brother had donned dark robes and spent the evening close to gutting people with his all too real antique scythe. Tohma was a sight to behold that night, his black lace costume that contrasted sensually with his snow white skin, here and there flecked with fake blood. False canines accomplished the perfect image of vampirism. Anyone could have fallen in love with him then, Mika thought cynically. In the end, though, it just had to be her.



Yes, she loved him. She had always loved him, still loved him. But, now, after so many years of marriage and too many years of idle conversation, pointless company and utterly passionless sex, she wasn't so sure he loved her. Come to think of it, she had never been sure. Tohma was always so kind, so polite, so political, it was like he was made of some kind of metal, cold, flattering, and indifferent.

Mika let her head hang and twirled her wedding ring absentmindedly around her finger. It was silver. It wasn't a common wedding band, but a delicate weave of twisted threads, two individual pieces of metal, separate yet inseparable. As she stared at this symbol of unity, a hand crept across the table and covered hers. Purple nails rested softly against her skin. Reminded of where she was, she looked up into Noriko's eyes.

"You've forgotten how to define yourself. Mika, you are a woman, not a wife."

"I'm missing something."

"What's that?"

"No, Noriko," Mika broke her friend's gaze and slid back from the table, "I don't want to be here anymore. Can we go someplace more… private?"

"Of course." Noriko then waved for a waiter and before long the two women had paid and hurried from the restaurant. Noriko knew what this longing for privacy meant. Mika had a confession to make. Or at least a complaint. As expected, the instant Noriko's car doors slammed, shutting confidant and confessor off from a world of prying ears, Mika's heart poured steadily across her sleeves.

"I just don't know what to do with myself anymore! At first I was happy because I could just be everything for Tohma but now, now it's like he doesn't even need me anymore! I don't even know if he loves me! I can't live like this. I feel so purposeless. I- I need to be needed! And, you know, then, when I first noticed that he didn't come home as early and didn't seem happier just to see me, I got scared and I thought, you know, that he might be having an affair, but apparently he wasn't. I didn't know what was going on. He just works more and more and- and- I asked him if we could have children because I didn't want to feel so useless! I mean I didn't say it like that. I just said I wanted to be a mother but He said he just wasn't ready to be a father. So all I can ever do is hang on his arm at cocktail parties and I'm sick of it! I can entertain myself, sure, but I want to mean something more. Noriko, what do I do? I don't just feel useless, I don't even feel like a person." Mika at last fell silent, save for a few quiet sniffs as she struggled to keep her tears in.

"I'm sorry Mika," Noriko whispered. "I just don't know."

It was an impulse. She never planned it or even considered it, but once the thought first occurred, there was nothing Noriko could do to stop herself from reaching out a hand to grasp Mika's face and planting a kiss fully on her lips. There was no uncomfortable silence, no stiff moments of acceptance after two pairs of love-hungry mouths dug into each other and parted. 

Mika fell promptly to Noriko's lap, wailing miserably. Shaking hands clawed at the younger woman's blouse in some desperate attempt to dig out comfort. Noriko stroked the corners of the face Mika now pressed tightly into her stomach, as if the pressure could send her hurtling back to the womb, ready to start life afresh. This time around she would not allow herself to so forcefully love a man uncommitted to her. This time she would not sacrifice womanhood for femininity, or pleasure for power. This time… was still last time. No amount of desire could restart life.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Tohma had waited up all night for Mika, but she had not come home. The sun had risen and Tohma, still awake, still worried, had given up his vigil and prepared to leave for work. Circles hung dark beneath his eyes and the short journey to NG studios passed by him in complete haze. He barely noticed where his feet were taking him as he trudged into his office, ignoring the flirtatious greetings of some new secretary. He didn't even know her name. Perhaps he should. Oh well, now was not the time.

He reached his desk and picked up his hand-held. His weary mind struggled to make sense of the characters that reliably told him, everyday, what he should be doing. He managed to figure out that nothing was scheduled for him until ten o'clock when a representative from a civic hall in Sapporo would call to discuss a recent security breach at one of his investments'concert involving a particularly aggressive fan and her symptoms of kleptomania. This was a good day for that particular executive. He was too tired to threaten to sue on grounds of negligence. Tohma sighed and pressed his palms to his eyes. He had a terrible headache. That rapping wasn't helping either. What the hell was that, anyway? Oh. The door.

"Come in" Tohma called lazily. His new secretary stood on the other side of the doorframe, bowing in respect. Bowing in propriety.

"Ohayo gozaimasu," His nameless secretary smiled prettily. Her hair was died honey-brown and was styled in slight waves that curled around her perfect heart-shaped face. Her make-up was impeccable and made her skin look flawless, her eyes wide and innocent. A dangerous misconception, Tohma knew. Women like that were never innocent. Tohma didn't know who had hired her, and he didn't care, but he had no doubt she had slept with a board member to secure such a position. Hell, she'd be able to meet stars, and probably sleep with them too.

"Your mail, sir. A K-san left a message for you earlier. He asked if you would return his call as soon as possible. Also, a document came in from that American company regarding the Japanese tour you are negotiating. Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything?" Her perfect lips posed in a pout and her eyelids fluttered. Oh yeah, she was definitely that kind of girl. Feeling a little sorry for her now, Tohma mentally applauded his constitution of iron.

"No thank you. I'm perfectly al-" The grubby long-eared head of a pink stuffed bunny suddenly appeared from around the door. "Ryuichi? Why are you here so early?" Tohma asked in surprise, interrupting himself. His energetic friend usually didn't make an entrance until far later in the morning. A far louder entrance.

"Tohma is mean," said a voice from behind the door. "He doesn't even say hello to poor Kumagoro."

"Oh pardon me, Kumagoro," Tohma bowed an apology, humoring his eccentric friend, "Good morning, and do come in. What ever can I do for you, old friend?" He watched his secretary blanch.

"Kumagoro just wanted to see Tohma," Ryuichi explained for the mute rabbit, "He passed us in the lobby. He looked very sad. Tohma didn't say hello." Ryuichi's large babyish eyes emerged from behind the door and then followed his bunny into the room. "What's wrong with Tohma?"

Tohma turned to his secretary and gave her a calm smile. "Please excuse us," was his only explanation for the pop star's odd behavior. The moment she regained her composure, bowed, and left the office, he turned back to Ryuichi, false smile hitched onto his face. "Nothing's wrong. Thank you, Ryuichi… and Kumagoro, for your concern, but really, everything's fine." No need to dampen the spirits of the innocent, right?

"Okay." Ryuichi bounced to his feet and made his way back through the office door, seemingly content with Tohma's answer. Tohma settled back at his desk, shuffling papers around, but looked back up when he heard the door creek. There, once again poking through the crack in the door, was the head of a pink stuffed bunny. "Tohma," the voice of Ryuichi sounded from the hallway, "Kumagoro doesn't like it when you lie."

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Footnote!

eight isn't quite random, but I did just make it up. Something like an educated guess…