Author's Note: Wow. It's been a while. I found this story in the depths of my computer, and really liked it. I would say its AU, it mostly deals with Suguru and Tohma's childhood. Anyways, I won't go on any longer. Let me know what you think 

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Maki Murakami…

Warnings: This story is about Tohma and Suguru mostly. There are a lot of original characters in it.

Chapter One:

"Okay, everybody stop for a second. Suguru, what the hell are you doing?" The loud voice came over the microphone, overriding the music and interrupting their jam session. It was about the tenth time in five minutes, and everyone was getting annoyed. Even the normally calm Hiro impatiently tore his head phones off his head and tossed them, albeit gently, onto the floor, before giving Suguru a mild glare. This was a lot, coming from Hiro.

The keyboardist felt bad. But it wasn't his fault. He was tired; yesterday his nightmares had been playing out full force all night, and he didn't even want to sleep after a few hours of seeing the same grisly scenes play over and over in his head.

"Aw come on K!" Shuichi plopped to the floor and stared up at their manager with pleading eyes, "We've done this fifty million times! It sounds fine!" Personally, Shuichi didn't think that the music was up to its usual standards, but he really did not want to sing again. His throat was killing him, and he was worried about something his girlfriend had said the other night. But why did they have to pay for Suguru? What the hell was wrong with that kid today anyways? Was he having girl trouble or something? Looking at the slight boy, he laughed and disregarded that possibility. Boy trouble maybe? Who ever knew with Suguru? He always had that same blank expression. It was creepy, so much like Tohma, but at the same time, nothing at all like him.

"It's perfect." Shuichi repeated his feeble defense, but he knew that it was useless. They weren't the number one band in the country because their manager let them get away with anything. In fact, the manager was something of a perfectionist, which made life a little difficult, but ultimately more rewarding. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Maybe for a bunch of amateurs, but not you guys. Anyways, you know what they say: fifty millionth and first time is the charm! Ho ho ho!" But when he looked through the window at the exhausted band, he relented. "Okay, five minute break! And it'd better be perfect the first time, or you don't leave here until ten o'clock."

Shuichi waited until he saw both K and Sakano exit the studio room, and then rounded on Suguru.

"What the hell man? What's your problem today?" Suguru gave him a dark, smoldering stare that brought a blush to the singer's cheeks until he had to look away, making Shuichi even angrier. "What's going on?"

"Hey." Shuichi looked at Hiro in surprise. His best friend just shook his head. "Leave him alone Shu, he's obviously not having a good day." It was obvious, although Shuichi was never one to pay attention to detail. Suguru had dark, heavy bags under his eyes, and his hair was messy, which normally he wouldn't allow. The shirt he was wearing was wrinkled, and Hiro suspected that he had slept in it the night before. Something else Shuichi wasn't quite perceptive enough to notice, was that the small keyboardist had been losing weight recently, and he didn't have much to spare in the first place. In fact, Hiro had been planning to talk to K about it that day, although he was sure that the manager already knew. The American, for all his insanity, wasn't an idiot.

Shuichi's lip curled into a pout at his perceived betrayal of the alliance between Hiro and himself. But Hiro wasn't in the mood for these ridiculous children games today. He purposely avoided eye contact with the singer, and after a moment of looking between Hiro and Suguru, Shuichi looked at the floor. Just then, K burst back into the room.

"Let's get to work, and make it sound good this time Shuichi!" Said singer burst immediately into tears and ran from the room, wailing at the top of his lungs. Hiro looked as though he was going to follow him for a second, but first turned back to Suguru. The guitarist opened his mouth, but never got to finish his sentence, because a gun was pressed up to his head.

"Go find him, and bring him back. Now." Hiro reluctantly complied, sending a worried glance back at Suguru standing by himself in the middle of the room. A look crossed the keyboardist's face. Only for an instant, but it was there, and it was the loneliest look Hiro had ever seen in his life. He almost turned back to talk to him, but K was glaring at him from a conversation with Sakano, so he decided to begin the search for Shuichi, keep his life, and talk to Suguru later. Today even, he promised himself. But promises like that have a way of breaking themselves.

Suguru had thought for a second that Hiro was going to come back and stay with him, instead of going off to find that hypochondriac, and maybe he could finally tell someone. Not all of it, but a bit; enough to release some of the pressure that had been building up lately. But he was disappointed once again. He had been stupid to think that anyone would care. To disguise the hurt that he was sure was evident in his face, he hung his head down, pretending to examine his fingernails. When he looked up again, Hiro was gone.

Hiro, unbeknownst to Suguru, was incredibly worried about the keyboardist. As he opened doors and looked under tables, half heartedly calling the singer's name, he was really thinking about the small, dark boy who was currently all alone in the studio with his thoughts. The guitarist knew well enough that holding in emotions only served to corrode the barriers of the mind, like trying to hold acid in one's bare hands. Shuichi would survive, he decided, turning back to go to the studio. The hyperactive boy would probably go find Ryuichi and cry on his shoulder if he didn't have Hiro there, and that was fine with the redhead. To be honest, he was really getting tired of the constant bitching and moaning that was part of being around Shuichi.

Unfortunately, his plan to let someone else deal with Shuichi didn't end up working, when he decided to stop in the bathroom before heading back to the studio room. The pink haired boy was curled up in a ball on the counter, sobbing loudly into his lap. As Hiro walked into the room, Shuichi looked up and flung himself at his best friend.

"Hiro! They're so mean to me! How could K talk to me like that? He knows that it was Suguru's fault! I didn't do anything wrong! I was trying my hardest! It's not fair!" Shuichi started off into a new round of tears, burying his head in Hiro's chest. After a moment, he seemed to get a hold of himself, and surfaced for air, sniffling pathetically. "Hiro? You sometimes take his side too." The singer let go of his tight grip of his friend's shirt and stared up at him accusingly. "Sometimes, I think that you like him better than me."

Hiro was at a loss for words. There was no way that Shuichi could have misunderstood him anymore. Where did he get his crazy ideas from? Just because he didn't always agree with the singer, it didn't mean he didn't like him as much! This was grade school mentality, coming from a nineteen-year-old, and it sounded ridiculous.

Meanwhile, Shuichi was welling up with tears again, certain that Hiro's silence was his agreeing with his accusation. Did everybody just hate him? Was he that annoying, that people had to yell at him all the time? It wasn't fair, it just wasn't—

"Stupid boy." Shuchi looked up in surprise and the tone of voice Hiro used. He had never heard anything like it coming from the mild guitarist, in all the years they'd been friends.

"Wha..what?"

"You heard me. Pull yourself together. You're an adult, you can't be falling apart every time someone looks at you wrong, you ridiculous, ridiculous little boy. Suck it fucking up. The world isn't fair. Everyone knows that. You can't expect everything to always turn out your way." Shuichi's face fell again, and Hiro was afraid he was going to cry again. But then the singer looked up at him with a forced smile, and slowly walked out of the bathroom, trying to retain some dignity.

Hiro collapsed against the counter. Had he just estranged one of his few friends? That look on Shuichi's face…but it had felt good. His conscience was barely complaining, just a slight twinge of sickness in his stomach, but he could stand it, especially if he didn't have to listen to anymore whining. Although, it probably hadn't fully hit him yet, the entirety of what he had just done.

What did Shuichi's girlfriend have to go through every night? In fact, how did he even get a girlfriend in the first place; the singer was more like a girl himself. And now Hiro had accidentally added to her load. He should have been guilty for feeling relieved, but he really wasn't. He was already thinking back to Suguru, all alone in the room.

Damn, he wanted to go back to see him, but he couldn't. What if Shuichi was there? What would he say? Would he ignore him completely? If Hiro went over to talk to Suguru, he would push Shuichi even farther away. Now the guitarist was really starting to feel guilty. Already, he was subconsciously planning out ways to make it up to the fragile singer, and at the same time talk to Suguru.

Hiro realized that it would never work, to try to solve both problems at the same time. He had to do it one at a time. Unfortunately, that created a decision; he had to decide who was more important to him: Suguru, a boy who was relatively new to his life, or Shuichi, who he'd known forever.

The choice was obvious. It had practically been made before the situation ever arose. Before he'd even known the small, dark boy who played the keyboard like an angel. As much as he'd want to deny it, he was dedicated to Shuichi first. And he had to fix their relationship before he could get around to helping anyone else in his life.

Suguru looked up as the long missing guitarist walked into the room, and brightened immediately. Obviously, Hiro and Shuichi had been fighting, because soon after Hiro had left, the singer had coming running back into the room, and when K asked if he'd seen Hiro, he'd burst into tears again. This meant that Hiro was free to come over to him, and maybe Suguru could finally talk to someone who might understand. But Hiro was still standing in the doorway, looking between the moaning Shuichi, and the quiet boy who was tucked away in the corner. Suguru caught his eyes, and saw the apology there, unsaid, and in an instant, knew what Hiro was going to do. Tearing his eyes away, the keyboardist buried his nose in the music book he was reverently studying. Each footstep towards Shuichi echoed in a sick song in his mind. Betrayed, betrayed, betrayed again. Betrayed, betrayed, betrayed again.

This time around, Bad Luck got the song on the first try. Maybe it was because Shuichi was in such a good mood, or maybe that Suguru was concentrating so hard on his music, so he could block the world out. Whatever it was, K was extremely pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he allowed them to have another short break before they attempted the next song.

Suguru dreaded the producer and manager inevitably leaving the room, leaving him alone with Hiro and Suguru. It was like being at school all over again, except worse because they were adults, and could deal with their problems a little more maturely. Well, at least he and Hiro could. He couldn't account for Shuichi. The pink haired idiot was completely beyond any comprehension he could ever muster up; sometimes he was a serious, contributing member of their group, sometimes even the most valuable, but there were days when he wondered what the scientist's had done with the singer's brain, and if there was a fourteen year old girl somewhere out there with the brain of a nineteen-year-old boy.

Just as it seemed that K and Sakano were going to leave, there was an unusually welcome interruption from none other than the boss of NG Records. Tohma casually walked in the door, in his floating manner, looking, for all the world, a blonde angel. But Suguru knew that he was far from it. Every so often, the black haired boy would praise whatever deity had made him related to Tohma, and therefore, untouchable. Of course, there were also days when even the mention of blood ties couldn't keep the man from scaring him, like the day that he had seen…well, he didn't like to think of that anymore. Especially when the blond man was around. It almost seemed as though the small, but intimidating man could read his thoughts, and that was one of the most frightening things Suguru could think of.

Tohma quietly conversed with the two men for a moment, every so often looking over at Suguru. His ears burned with curiosity. What were they talking about? Why did his cousin look so solemn, well, at least more so than usual? The older man caught his eyes for a second, and held them in a long, thoughtful glance. He seemed to be sizing up his young charge. Something in the pit of Suguru's stomach dropped, and nausea swarmed his senses. For a moment, his vision went blurry, and as he put out a hand to steady himself, he found, instead of empty space, a strong hand helping him stay upright. He looked up in to a face, partially obscured by red hair, and full of worry.

A second later, Tohma was by his side, supporting an arm under his shoulder, and shooing everyone away. Suguru tuned into what he was saying: "…have to talk to him alone right now…" Oh great. His sickness didn't decrease as he watched the rest of the band and company slowly file from the room, occasionally looking over their shoulders in order to get a hint of what was going on.

Suguru slowly stumbled towards the couch in the side of the room, trying, for all he was worth, not to lean on his cousin. Slowly, he sunk down on the couch, and ever-so-slowly drew out his asking of the inevitable. Tohma waited patiently, just like Suguru knew he would, staring at the young boy with a steady, unwavering expression. Finally, he cracked.

"Okay Tohma, what happened?" Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to think about something else. Maybe if he tuned it out, Tohma would think that he had heard, and would leave him alone. Then, he'd never have to know.

Unfortunately, it seemed like his cousin wasn't going to let that happen. He set a heavy hand on Suguru's shoulders, tightening his grip until the boy met his eyes. "Suguru…there was, an accident." Tohma coughed, and broke eye contact for a second. This scared Suguru even more than the; he had never, ever seen his cousin hesitate for anything. "Your parents were in the car, and they crossed an intersection at the wrong time, and…there was a bus coming in the other direction and…" He stopped talking again.

Strangely, Suguru's head had cleared. His dizziness had just gone away at the mention of his parents. Tohma stared at his, trying to see if he understood, to gauge his reaction. But he understood, quite clearly in fact; his parents were dead, and he was even more alone than ever. And he felt nothing inside. Not even the slightest bit of remorse, sorrow, regret for things not said, or anything else. It was like his heart was a black hole, sucking up any emotion until he was empty. Standing up, he walked over to Tohma's side, put his hand on his cousin's shoulder, and looked deep into his eyes.

"It's okay Tohma, I understand. They're dead." The blonde couldn't keep the smallest bit of surprise from showing in his eyes. Although people would say that Suguru was taking it considerably well, he knew that his small cousin was similar to him when it came to controlling emotions, and was unconsciously bottling this up inside. He had learned the hard way how unhealthy it was, with years of intensive therapy during his youth, and then again after the…family incident. There was not going to be a repeat of that, if he could help it. And he could. After all, he was Tohma Seguchi, boss of NG records, and capable of doing basically anything he wanted.

"I need to take you over to the house, so you can go through some of your things. I'm sorry it has to be so rushed, but since they had just sold the house, and the new owners want to move in soon, everything has to be cleared out within a few weeks." Suguru stared at his cousin angrily. They had sold the house? When? Had they been planning on telling him ever? This was ridiculous. He had to get back to work; he didn't have time to go through all the junk in that enormous house. It would take weeks. And it would bring back too many memories, and he wasn't ready to handle that just yet. Unfortunately, as always, Tohma read him easily.

"Suguru." The younger boy looked away petulantly. "Suguru. Look at me." Sighing, he gave in.

"What?"

"Suguru…you can't stay away forever. Eventually you're going to have to go back, and you might as well get it over with now, and then you'll never have to think about it again. You can handle it; you're strong enough. Don't worry." What was this? The great Tohma Seguchi, showing his sensitive side like this? It was practically unheard of, even in their family. But then again, Tohma and Suguru had always had a deep connection, probably because they were so much alike. Although Suguru did not fail to notice that Tohma was using the word "you" and not "we". Apparently he wasn't coming, the hypocrite.

"Come on, I'll drive you home, and tomorrow, I'll pick you up in the morning to get you over there."

The next morning, true to his word, Tohma arrived in his car to take Suguru to the dreaded place of his childhood. On the ride there, the blond kept shooting (what he thought were) sneaky glances over to see how the smaller boy was reacting. It was just as he thought: the sharp, cold ahead stare that he saw every time he looked in the mirror. He sighed quietly, knowing that it was futile to talk to him while he was acting like this; sometimes, he wondered if it was this frustrating for other people to talk to him (he hoped so). Instead, he brought up random ideas about Bad Luck, to help the younger keyboardist relax a little bit, photo shoots, talk show scheduling, the release of the newest single, anything to get the boy to let down his defenses just a little bit.

It worked. Suguru could always be provoked by his passion of music, and soon, the normally withdrawn boy was animatedly waving his hands, demonstrating new finger placements on the dashboard, and arguing about the reliability of Shuichi. Tohma was surprised to learn that Suguru adamantly defended the singer, despite his obvious dislike for the boy; it must be band loyalty, he mused. That was always key in a good band.

Once his cousin had dropped his guard to a sufficient level, Tohma dropped the bomb.

"So, do you miss them?" Suguru's head whipped around to stare at his devious cousin suspiciously, trying to decide what his motives were. It had to be something important; Tohma had always said that silence was better, unless you needed to know something, in which case, never stop talking until you know it. Unfortunately though, for Tohma, Suguru knew almost every one of his scare tactics and mannerisms intimately, having perpetually studied his cousin since he was a child looking up to an idol. Reflecting back on that now, Suguru came to realize that he really was still that child, looking up to a godly cousin who had fallen no level in his esteem. The fact that Tohma had suffered through the same things as him just made the man even stronger in his eyes.

"Not particularly…" He'd let Tohma chew one that one for a while; maybe it would buy him some much needed to peace so that he could honestly answer that question for himself. It was true that at the moment, he wasn't feeling as significant amount of sorrow, but maybe that would come later. Maybe he was in shock. A snort escaped from his nose. Unlikely; it seemed more like he was just completely unfazed by the whole affair. In an attempt to elicit some emotion from himself, Suguru tried to picture his mother's smiling face in his mind's eye, and, when he didn't have any luck, his father's. But he couldn't do it. For some reason, he couldn't recall a specific face, only features.

Interesting, he mused to himself, very interesting.

They spent the rest of the trip in silence, Suguru making the assumption that Tohma was thinking about his earlier comment, while Tohma had already recognized the comment as an attempt to buy time, and was letting Suguru think things over.

The house looked even more deserted and depressing than usual to Suguru. As Tohma pulled his car up to the driveway, it became obvious that no one had really lived in it for quite a while. Once again, the keyboardist wondered at the decision that his parents had made to not tell him about selling the house. For a moment, he was curious what house they had bought, but dismissed it quickly. He didn't really care that much, he told himself. The garden in front of the house, which his mother had taken such good care of was now run over with weeds, spilling out onto the walkway and driveway. These paths themselves were looking neglected too; deep cracks that his father was have at one time filled with concrete ran all the way from one end to the other. For a second, Suguru felt a twinge of sadness for the condition of the house. Now that there wasn't anyone to take proper care of it, it was in a terrible state.

Just like me… Suguru smirked at his own dramatics. As if I need someone to "weed my gardens" and "fill in my cracks". I've grown up since then. I don't really need anyone anymore... or maybe I'm just not needed by anybody…the thought unnerved him, and he pushed it away viciously.

As Suguru stepped tentatively out of the car, Tohma pulled away as soon as possible, leaving a knowing smile on his cousin's face. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had a dark past connected with this house. At one point in time, Tohma had lived here too, with his family, but that was a very long time ago. Then, his idolized older cousin had moved out when he was twenty, for reasons that the young keyboardist had never really inquired after, and had never been told, leaving Suguru stranded without the one person who had really understood him at the age of five. In fact, a lot of their family used to live in this spacey house. Most had moved out after the accident, although some hadn't been lucky enough to leave, and as Suguru had grown up, the rest had left, until only his family was left.

Putting on an act for an invisible audience, Suguru calmly approached the front door, which was hanging slightly crooked on rusted hinges. For a moment, he dropped the pretense and bent down to examine the rusted devices, frowning. Not for the last time, he wondered how long his parents had not been living here. Suddenly, the door creaked back, and Suguru saw that the door hadn't been locked, much less closed properly. From inside, all that was visible was the blunt shadow of a crooked table, leaning against the wall by the door, looking as though the only reason it was standing was the cobwebs gluing it to the wall.

Suguru stepped delicately into the house, as though trying not to disturb the spirits. The entire front room was cloaked with darkness; the windows, long ago boarded up stopped all but the tiniest crack of light from coming in. And yet, the house seemed to glow dully, from an unknown source. It scared Suguru, so badly that he ran to the wall and fumbled for a light switch that he knew was there. His fingers caught on the plastic, and suddenly the room was illuminated with an intense light that blinded him at first.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the light, Suguru wished that he had stayed in the dark. From every direction, memories assaulted him. The familiar wallpaper, carpet, pictures on the wall, everything was screaming for attention. Scenes from too long ago swirled around his eyes, making him strain to see the blurs as they sped by, and ultimately causing the keyboardist a great deal of dizziness.

Suguru's eyes widened as, in his delirious state, he imagined the people in the pictures crawling out of their frames, and standing to face him in the small room. Soon, he was crowed up against the wall, sobbing fearfully and pushing at the spectors of his mind. The ghosts stared at him with dark, accusing eyes, asking him silent questions. They all reached pale silver fingers out to him, stroking his arms and cheeks, and his neck. Suguru felt cold tendrils tightening around his neck, and he began to struggle, but when he lashed out, nothing was there. His mind was playing tricks on him again, and he knew it, but as hard as he willed away the ghosts, he still couldn't breathe, could still feel their fingers stroking his throat longingly, watching the life that flowed through there.

With one trembling hand, the boy reached across the hallway and flicked the switch down again. Immediately, hands disappeared, along with their owners, and Suguru was happy to see that they were back inside the pictures again; he was safe for now. Massaging his neck with one hand, he used the other to navigate down the hallway deeper into this dreaded house, which held such horrors for him.

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Okay, that's it for the first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!