Author's Note: Hello everyone ^^ Well this is my first fanfic so I hope you all like it.


Chapter One

An uncomfortable knot had formed in the pit of the author's stomach, his green eyes staring almost harshly into the camera that was recording his every action, word, sound, and perhaps it could even contain his thoughts. God, he hoped not, that would surely be the end of his career if anyone found out his side job as an author. His dirty little secret. Ah yes, the wonderful books that he would write, occasionally gaining inspiration from the ever adorable Misaki-chan. But currently, he was being interviewed about one of his more recent (and apparently popular) books. And quite frankly, he didn't give a damn, he didn't want to be there. He hoped that wasn't apparent to the rather pretty lady interviewing him.

He didn't pay her much mind, just answered her questions, and silently prayed for this torture to end. Something was wrong, very wrong and he could just feel it in his stomach as the uncomfortable knot was becoming in tolerable. "When we come back, Mr. Usami will be answering our callers questions." The crowd watching applauded and Usagi couldn't have gotten out of that chair faster. He sprinted to the bathroom and coughed harshly till his throat was sore.

What was wrong with him? He had never felt this worried or uneasy before. What on earth was wrong...? Could something be wrong with Misaki? He reached into his pocket, his fingers grasping his cell phone. As soon as it was open, he hit the speed dial; 1 for his house. No answer. Well that could easily be explained, Misaki could just be in the shower or out. He waited till the answering machine picked up. "Misaki-chan, give me a call as soon as you get in." He hung up and hit the next number, 2, for Misaki's phone. But instead of Misaki picking up, or going to voicemail, he got 'we're sorry but the number you are trying to call does not exist.'

The phone slipped from his grasp hitting the floor with a loud thud. Usagi-san stared into the mirror, his hands pressed against the cool porcelain of the sink. His stomach tossed and turned, displaying his clear unease. The sound of the door to the bathroom being opened caught his attention. He glanced up just to have a stack of papers hit his face. He shook his head clearing his vision and glanced at the door to see...Aikawa and she looked pissed. "What was that Usagi? Huh? You just ran out of there, you better have a good excuse for this..."

"Something's wrong with Misaki," he said flatly and straightened up, fixing his tie in the mirror. "Not answering any of the phones..." He said and pushed past her. She followed him still rambling about his performance and how it was not becoming of an author of his stature. Bet she didn't hear a word I just said, he thought as he sat back down and apologized for his actions, saying his stomach had been bothering him, but he was fine to continue.

"Hello everyone, we're back with Akihiko Usami. Time for our first caller." The hostess pressed the speaker phone button on the phone that had been set up between them. It rung for a few seconds before someone answered. "Hello you're on the air with Akihiko Usami, do you have a question for him?"

There was silence as they waited, save for a deep gravely breathing coming from the person on the phone. "Yes...I have a question," the caller said, then fell silent again. The knot in Usagi's stomach was growing bigger and he was beginning to feel sick.

"Then ask, or I am afraid we will have to go to our next caller," the hostess said, glancing to her producer with worried eyes. She wasn't the only one who seemed to fear, or worry about who ever this caller was. The whole audience was on the edge of their seats. Not to mention Usagi himself was about ready to return to the bathroom and calm down again.

A hoarse chuckle came from the phone, then the caller spoke again. "What would the great Akihiko Usami do to save what is most precious to him?" Usagi felt the world vanish beneath him, the sensation of falling, that utter sense of dread was there. Misaki... "So pretty this little thing is. Even prettier with blood on the skin..."

"What? Who is this?" The hostess said while Usagi just sat there a look of complete devestation on his face. The producer was on the phone calling the police, everyone was in a panic. The caller laughed, and the line went dead.

As soon as the phone had disconnected, Usagi was out of his chair and sprinting for the parking lot. No one would stop him and if they tried, well he'd run them over with his car. He could hear Aikawa calling for him, but he ignored her. Misaki... He yanked the door open to his car, and slammed it shut. Seat belt? Hell no he was in too big a rush. He had to check...had to see...

His car roared to life and he drove straight out of the parking lot. Breaking every speed limit known to man except for race car drivers, he drove straight home. He took the stairs up three at a time and froze in horror. The door to his apartment was wide open. Slowly, he went inside, and looked around. The place was a wreck, there had been signs of a struggle and...his eyes widened with horror as they landed on a pool of blood that was still fresh. Oh god...where was Misaki...What had happened...? His fists clenched, beyond the fear, and sadness, the rage was growing. Whom ever did this was going to pay. He would find Misaki. Save him. Even at the cost of his own life. But first, he had to call the police...then Takahiro...


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