Chapter 1.

"And there you have it! Tsukiyomi Ikuto's new song!"

Amu turned off the television, wanting to escape from the annoying woman's voice. Her voice was just like everyone else's. Vexatious. The thing that annoyed her more than the voices of these people was Ikuto. She hated him. Despised him. She felt betrayed as her heart broke into shattered pieces that night.

That night.

The night that began all her suffering. Suffering for six years. Six long years. Despite how much time has passed, she still couldn't get Ikuto out of her mind. Those eyes, the soft hair, the lean body. She loved him, more than anything.

At the age of 22, Hinamori Amu was a fashion designer at one of Japan's most famous companies. Not only was she a genius at what she did, but she had the body for her fashion-style. Her pink bubblegum hair came down a little past her shoulders. Her smooth lean legs were long, whilst her body was on the lean sides, but she had all the right curves. Any straight man would fall head-over-heels for her, and any gay man would turn straight for her.

She lived in a medium-sized apartment, not too far from her work domain. She wasn't extremely rich, but she wasn't poor. Her pay was adequate, so she had nothing to complain about.

Her Guardian friends still stayed in contact with her. Rima being the closest. Kuukai gave her a phone call here and there, but was busy with his soccer games. Nagihiko worked in a business that specialized in investments. Similar to Wall Street. Tadase was a producer for a television program, they specialized in performances by famous musicians. Yaya and Rima both worked with Amu in the same company, but worked in different departments. Instead of designing the clothes, they specialized in setting-up fashion events.

And Ikuto.

Ikuto was famous. Worldwide famous. The musical prodigy that was said to come once in every lifetime. Although his songs had no lyrics, they were on the radio constantly. All the time. You could turn on the radio and the first thing you would hear would be the sweet, soothing melody of a melancholy sounding violin.

Everyone loved Ikuto. They loved his music, his looks, and his cool-suave personality. He was what you would call quiet-but-deadly.

Despite all these compliments people would give him, Amu, felt something different. Something far more different. Whenever she looked upon him, whether it be the television or magazines, a small fray would occur in her heart.

He was cocky, spoiled, inconsiderate, conceited, arrogant, and was very overweening.

But despite all this, she felt he was still the same person she knew six years ago.

Caring.

Loving.

Protective.

Tentative.

Whenever she thought about him, her heart told her one thing, while her mind told her another.

Since the time she had grown up, there was one rule she would always follow, throughout her life. Use logic. Never once did she use what her gut told her. Because she knew if she did, she would only get hurt. Scarred. And suffer.

She blamed him. Never did she blame herself. Only him. That man.

Tsukiyomi Ikuto.

All that pain that dwelled up inside of her, all led to a picture of Ikuto that she wanted to punch. Hit him with all her might. Scream. Yell. Cry.

But.

She still loved him. Deep in her heart, she loved him with all her might. Never did she look upon another man in those six years. Never.

She wanted to hold him, kiss him, hug him, take care of him. She wanted to be in his arms, for him to protect her. She wanted to look deep in his sapphire eyes, and to disappear in them. Like an old fisherman sailing out to the sea in a small fishing boat, ready to tackle anything.

Each time his song would play on the radio, her heart ached. Her head started hurting, her stomach churned, her legs wobbled, her arms motionless. Regret filled her body, followed by sadness, betrayal, and then acrimony. Then finally resentment.

She hated him, but she loved him.

"…Mu. Amu! Earth to Amu!"

"What." Amu replied bluntly, still staring at the wall in front of her. She'd been gazing at that wall for the past ten minutes. She was thinking, contemplating, and reminiscing. About who? Ikuto.

"So are you going to come with me?" Rima asked, taking a sip of her caramel-chocolate latte.

"Come with you to what?"

"The concert."

Amu blinked a few times before setting her gaze on Rima. The word concert got her attention.

"Who's concert?" She asked curiously. A tint of desperation appeared in her eyes.

"Ikuto's. Tsukiyomi Ikuto's concert."

Silence. Amu didn't say anything. Her gaze went back to the wall at the café, as she took a sip from her hot chocolate.

Was she being serious? Did she forget that little 'problem' I had with him?

"Come on Amu. Don't you want to see him?" Rima asked, poking at Amu's arm.

Do I want to see him? No, I don't. I hate him.

"Yo, Amu. Wake up."

But do I really hate him? No.

"Amu. Be a darling and wake up from that little daydream of yours already."

"I don't want to go. I would never go to one of his concerts." Amu replied, in a cold tone. Her voice was firm, but cold. A sense of seriousness could be easily sensed, even to a toddler.

"But I have two tickets, Amu, I need someone to go with."

Rima was getting annoying now. From the small poking, her tone sounded like a small five year old begging their mom for their favorite toy. Kids like that need to be smacked in the face.

"Rima, did you honestly forget that I hate Ikuto? Did you forget about what happened all those years ago?"

"No, but seeing you cry every single day pains me. It's gotten to the point where it perturbs me."

Amu stared at her, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. She squinted her eyes, trying to mock the awkwardness of the conversation.

"The only way to fix this problem you have, is to face it. And by that, I mean to go up to Ikuto, kiss him, love him, hug him, make some babies, get married, and die together." Rima stated bluntly, keeping her gaze set on Amu's eyes.

What the, was she serious?

"Rima," Amu grabbed her small hands, "You need to stop doing those drugs, and get a hold of reality."

Oh, how sarcasm was filling the air.

"Amu, I'm being serious. I know you still like him, no, love him. Your façade is silly." Rima stated, getting up from her seat as she grabbed her purse.

Amu stayed in her seat, looking up at Rima who looked as if she was about to leave.

"Anyways, it's Friday, Amu. You have nothing to do. Call me up later, and I'll pick you up for the concert, if you decide to go."

"Rima, I already told y—,"

"Later."

Rima waved a hand with her back faced to Amu as she exited the café. Arguing with herself about whether going or not, she stared out the windows, looking at the small, meek drops of rain. She let out a sigh of acquiescence, and decided.

I am going to that concert, not for Ikuto, but for the music.

Or so I think…

*~~^~~*

"Ikuto!"

"What is it now?" He replied in an annoyance.

"Did you tune your violin?" His manager scoffed out, in concern.

"Yes, now for the fifth time, let me be."

"The concert is in a few hours, this is no time for rest!"

Ikuto opened his eyes, as he sat up from his lying position on his bed. He was staying in a luxurious hotel, not too far from where the concert was going to be held. He was wearing black pants, and a long-sleeved, white collared shirt. He was toned, slim, and muscular; his blue hair was long, but not too long. However, his eyes were different. They showed nothing but that of an empty, lonely sad man.

"I'll be out in a few, so be a nice manager and leave me alone."

The manager gave a sigh, and stepped out of his hotel room. The door closed, as he heard the man's steps echoing through the hallways.

Ikuto ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small moan of exhaustion. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, and then moved to the bracelet on his left hand.

That bracelet.

It was simple, plain; overall it looked like it was nothing special. But to him, it was a remnant of the life he once loved, the girl he once loved, the girl he still loves. He remembered her face clearly, the pink hair, honey-golden eyes, and how flustered she would get.

Love, an emotion he'd once forgotten.

The bracelet was blue, made of what looked like plastic. It was blue because it matched his hair, but as it went around, a small pink heart appeared on its side. Despite how childish it looked, it represented the love he once had for that girl.

She'd given it to him as a token of their love. Their relationship. He also bought one for her, a pink one with a blue heart. The bracelets were cheap. They were bought in a small gift shop off the coast of the ocean.

Although he regretted what happened all those years ago, he knew it was for a good cause. His life may seem perfect for others, but it wasn't. Stress constantly flowed through his body, depression next. He also encounters not-so-lovely people every single day, not to mention all the hate-mail. He can't trust anybody, and if he did, his life could be ruined. Another thing he fears the most, are the many assassination attempts he encounters. Whether it be a simple walk in the streets, to a special party at a guest's house. He did it for her sake, so she wouldn't be involved.

So she wouldn't be in danger.

He did it because he truly loved her.

Separating from her, making her hate him, and avoiding her was all he could do. He hoped she had forgotten him, he hoped she didn't see him on the television, or heard him on the radio. He tried to cancel as many television appearances as he could in hope for her, and requested radio stations not play his songs.

All for her sake.

However, his fame quickly took its toll and now he was bigger than any musician that had ever existed. He hated it.

He hated himself, he wanted to just disappear and die a single, lonely man. A lonely man who held on to the hope of loving a girl he couldn't reach.

Hinamori Amu.

"Ikuto! Let's go!"

He slowly stood up from the bed, making sure he had his violin case, he exited the door.

Tonight was going to be like any other concert, boring. He hated these concerts, all these compliments, whispers, and dropping jaws from the audiences annoyed him. Especially all the fan-girls.

He silently groaned to himself as he made his way to the concert hall.

A normal day. A normal concert.

Nothing special.

*~~^~~*

"Amu, get your ass up and let's go."

"Rima, I already told you, no." Amu said, slouching lazily on her large black couch. She started flipping channels, hoping for some entertainment on the television.

"Amu. It starts in practically 40 minutes. You have to go." Rima said, keeping her stare on the television with Amu.

Amu didn't reply. She was merely flipping channels; her thumb was set on the channel button. It was on autopilot.

But much to her surprise, every single channel was about one thing.

Ikuto.

"Tsukiyomi Ikuto's only concert in Japan is about to start! Everyone is so ex—."

"I just love how his hair can be so elegant and smooth!"

"Here we are, channel 5 is in front of the concert hall. Practically the whole entire population of Japan is here!"

Amu silently grunted. Oh how he had the perfect life. All the perfect fans, perfect girls, perfect cars, perfect house.

And what did Amu have?

A normal-sized apartment, a demanding job, no love life, and friends that annoyed her to the extreme. Not to mention her heart was still shattered. What a wonderful life.

"Amu, did I mention we have backstage passes?"

Amu quickly flinched, then glanced over at her friend Rima, who was holding two pieces of paper. They were enveloped in plastic covers, with a small hole at the top. There were strings that passed through the hole, suggesting it be worn around your neck.

"H-How did you get backstage passes?"

"Utau. Duh."

Amu's eyes quickly narrowed as she turned her attention back to the television. Oh yeah, Utau. The blonde-haired cutie who was striving to become a famous singer, hoping to get the status Ikuto has. Sure, she was ambitious; she was also nice.

"So, Amu. Let's get a move on." Rima said, tugging at her side.

"For the last time. I. Am. Not. Going." She replied, annoyance in tone.

"Amu, babe. I know you want to go. I know you adore his music." Rima smirked. Her left eyebrow slightly raised as she was penetrating through Amu's little world. The fish caught the bait, just up to the fisherman to pull it in.

"I think his music is dreadful. It makes my ears bleed."

"Is that why whenever your phone rings, one of his songs start playing?"

"Wha—."

A small tint of red appeared on Amu's face.

"And is that why you have a bunch of his songs on your iPod?"

"Rima, darling," Amu said, expression: bored. "You need to stop invading my personal space, and leave me alone. I hate that man. Simple as that."

"It's not going to kill you if you go —"

"Yes it is."

Rima sighed in defeat. It was useless. She was hopeless. And her heart was… fragmentary. As much as it hurt that Amu, her best friend, would not go to this concert, she knew for her, it would be much more comfortable.

"Fine, Amu. Have fun in your little world."

Amu just snickered back, keeping her eyes on the screen.

"By the way, did I mention this will be his only and last concert in Japan?"

Amu's eyes started to sidetrack back to Rima, who looked as if she was about to leave. His only and last concert in Japan? More like, my only and last chance to see him in person in Japan.

Ikuto. Do I want to see you one last time?

"Why would this be his last concert in Japan?" Amu asked curiously, tints of… hope appearing in her eyes.

"He says that he doesn't like performing in Japan that much. Especially in this area. It's not his fans; he says, it's because of somebody. Somebody he wants to protect. Whatever that means."

Amu thought for a single second, escaping from her dull, little world. Protect somebody? This area?

"So, are you sure you don't want to go?" Rima asked, hoping for the answer she wanted.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Damn it.

"Alrighty then, catch you later, Amu."

With that, Rima left Amu's apartment. The door shut, making a small 'clunk' sound, as Amu was still sitting on her oh-so-comfy black couch. She was thinking. For one of the very first times, she was using her broken heart instead of her egotistical mind.

Ikuto.

Ikuto.

Ikuto…

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

She glanced out her window, and noticed it started raining. Oh the irony. She hated the rain. She hated it almost as much as him. Why? Simple, really. Because on that night, the moment the silhouette of his back was shown growing smaller, rain started to fall. The cliché aura created an uneasiness for her. The nostalgic feelings of sadness overwhelmed her. It hurt her.

"Ik..uto…" Amu muttered.

She reached into her right pocket, and dug her hand in her jeans. She pulled out a pink bracelet, with a blue heart somewhere around it. She looked at it with soft eyes, and then nodded with reassurance.

Ikuto, I think it's time… you just turn into a memory. For me.

*~~^~~*

A/N: What's up. Haven't written or updated in a long time, but I do constantly visit. I've read some great stories. Those great stories somewhat sparked an interest I thought to be lost. Anyway, I'll update soon. Maybe even my other stories.

Thanks for reading, reviews would be appreciated. Anyway, later.