Prelude

Kyouraku Shunsui had always hated hospitals, and this one was no exception.

He gazed out into the night, pierced as it was by the lights of the city, and tried to ignore the steady beeps, drips, and whirs that the machines were making behind him. Tried not to think about the way things were going down. Tried not to think about the fact that, damnit, this was the third time Juushiro had ended up here in the course of nine months. He tried not to think about Lisa and the way she had raged at him only a few hours ago.

He tried not to think, as his best friend since high school's raspy breathing continued, that this might be the end.

"Kyouraku-san?"

He turned, raising an eyebrow. "Impressed, Isane-kun. I didn't even hear you."

The tall girl bowed her head, a slight blush suffusing her cheeks. "I—I came in to check everything, and also to tell you that Yadomaru-san is in the lobby. She wants to talk to you."

Shunsui sighed, raking a hand through his tangled brown hair. He hadn't even brushed it since the night before, he realized—too tired by the time Lisa snapped and kicked him out of the hotel room, whereupon he had ended up back here.

"Tell Lisa-chan that as much as I regret it, she's going to have to wait."

He waited until Isane made to leave the room, then walked over to open the door for her, causing the platinum-haired nurse to blush again. Her expression changed to alarm when he grabbed her arm. "Kyouraku-san?"

"How bad?" he asked her, quietly.

Isane bit her lip. "I'm not sure," she confessed. "The fever had broken, but it came back when he woke choking, last night. The X-rays haven't come back yet, but Unohana-sama suspects fairly extensive lung damage."

"Can he play again? Ever?" Shunsui dreaded the answer to this particular question. Gods, if he cant play…we may as well just disband all ready. We cant work like this.

Isane looked down. "I cant answer that," she said, softly, "but I can tell you that he'll most likely be handicapped, in one way or another, for the rest of his life. Probably he'll need oxygen. He might end up bedridden. We cant say anything more until the X-rays come back."

"I understand." So no, basically. "Thank you, Isane-chan. For all you've done."

"There's no need to thank me. This is my calling, after all."

He let her go and turned back to the room.

"Shun?"

Ah. "You should be sleeping."

Juushiro's smile trembled at the edges. "It wont be…long now," he murmured.

"What?" Shunsui crossed the room to sit on the edge of his friend's bed, careful not to jostle him too badly. His hand, splayed against the bedcovers, was pale and slender and hot as fire to the touch—it felt, Shunsui thought, as though he might break it just touching it.

"I'll be better." That pale hand squeezed his, possessed as it was with some feverish strength. "I'll be fine and we can go back to touring and…" His sentence trailed off into coughing. After a minute, he regained his breath and squeezed Shunsui's hand again. "Shunsui?"

"Hmm?"

"Please…dont leave."

Shunsui rolled his eyes. "Why would I leave?" Not that I've got anywhere to go, anyways.

Juushiro smiled as his eyelids drifted shut. "I wont tell…Lisa-chan…"

Shunsui felt a twinge at the thought of Lisa. "You'd better not."

Sitting there, beside his friend's bedside that night, Shunsui thought they might be able to make it still. Surely he could patch things up with Lisa. Surely Juushiro would get better and be more like himself again.

And Kaien-kun? He would keep them all together.

*~*~*~*~*

That night, a drunk driver swerved into the oncoming lane.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, the unfortunate (and inebriated) foreigner, lost his left arm.

Kaien and Miyako Shiba, married for six months, lead singer and stylist to one of the most promising young bands in Japan, lost their lives.