A/N: It's Natuso again! :D Okay, I know I said "I'm working on something happy!" I swear I am. It's just...not uploaded yet. And I wrote this one so much quicker. D: Anyway, the fic was inspired by the song "Addicted" by Kelly Clarkson. Yeah. I heards and was like: "Dude!" Only not litterally. So...more angst for you. D;

Warnings: Angst, drug use, character death and angst.

Summary: "If he were caught trying to find Fuuma, surely his friends would be angry. Even so, he had to do it."

It was time. A week had already passed, and still Kamui hadn't been near Fuuma. He was scared, to the point of shaking. He was sweaty; to the point he thought he was sick. He'd been huddled in a corner for the last two days, no shower to clean his oily hair, or to rid his body of the filthy water that appeared as perspiration. At one point he was so scared, he'd actually thrown up.

He looked around cautiously, paranoia setting in. If he were caught trying to find Fuuma, surely his friends would be angry. Even so, he had to do it. Fuuma was absolutely all he had left of his past.

So he slowly propelled himself up off the dirt-riddled carpet, accidentally putting one hand in the puke from earlier as he did so. He didn't notice. Only one thing went through his mind at the moment; Fuuma. He needed that man more than he could stand. (Not that he could stand very well…)

He really had trouble standing, the first few attempts he'd simply fallen right back to the ground before even getting halfway up. He'd almost given up. Then, an image of the man he was so intent on came into his mind. The short hair, the tall build, the some-what muscular body, and the sunglasses were all there. But there was something hidden behind his back.

Kamui didn't dwell on it. He stood up and began to walk out the door. Despite how freezing he was, he didn't grab his jacket as he walked out of the small, un-clean apartment. Fuuma was waiting.

His search for Fuuma brought him to a very old, dilapidated building that had almost been destroyed in the final battle. The Final Battle…? Kamui heard Fuuma's voice. He was here! Kamui could feel it in his bones as he sprinted to the building that was once a printing house. It wouldn't be too long before he was here; the ground was shaking beneath Kamui's feet, his eyes going wide with hope.

He finally reached the first floor of the building. Fuuma was on the roof, as he usually was. He was stopped by a man in a white coat. "Nice to see you again, Kamui." The familiar voice whispered. Kamui looked the man in the eyes. "I'm here for Fuuma, Subaru." He answered.

"I know you are, but, in case you forgot…" The other man held out his hand, like he was expecting something. Something went off in Kamui's head.

"Oh, right." He told him, sniffling as he did, trying to keep the snot inside his nose, no doubt. He reached into his pockets. They were empty. "I don't have it…" He said as worry spread across his face.

"You should know the other way by now." Subaru said. His voice was very flat.

"I'm weak right now…I don't know if I can…" Kamui, aren't you going to meet me? "I'll try." He sighed. He took in a deep breath. Next he knew a large amount of energy was flooding from him. Red, purple, blue and orange hues were leaving from every direction.

"That's plenty to pay with. You'll meet Fuuma quicker this way…"

"I'm here now, Kamui. You don't have to cry." Fuuma's voice rang from everywhere: Bouncing through the air, filling Kamui's head with the others bitter-honey voice.

"Where are you Fuuma?" Kamui was crying now. His muscles gave out, and he collapsed onto the roof. Laying there, not daring to fall asleep. He blinked and saw Fuuma in front of him. "Thank God…" Kamui whispered. He let himself smile as he felt the other pick him up lightly, carrying him like a new-born child. "How long will you stay?"

'I've missed you so much, Fuuma…' Kamui wanted to say it. But something was keeping his mouth shut. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew it needed to be gone. He needed to talk to Fuuma, even if he couldn't see him, as his eyes were shut tightly.

"Kamui…" He heard a familiar voice…feminine. It wasn't Fuuma. Then who was it? Whoever it was, they could wait until he wanted to wake up. Wait until he saw Fuuma once more. (Is what he always said, once more...)

"Please…Wake up…" The girls' voice was strained, like she was talking while crying. Why would someone be crying? What had happened?

No, he didn't want to wake up. If he stayed asleep just a little longer, Fuuma would show up. Fuuma never appeared when Kamui was strong. Never.

But there was a light nagging at his eyelids now, a strong antiseptic smell burning his nostril, and cold nipping his skin. Where exactly was he?

Not on the roof with Fuuma, that was for sure. Fuuma wasn't here. So where was he?

"Is he doing any better?" This time it was a male's voice. Not Fuuma. It didn't matter. He paused for a moment, but received no answer. "Oh…" he said solemnly. "Well, I've got your juice, Yuzuriha-chan." Yuzuriha… That's why the voice sounded so familiar.

But why was she here? Where was here? Who was the other voice? It wasn't Fuuma, or Subaru. Was it…

"Thank you, Sora-san." It was. It was Sorata. There was a slight click noise, followed by a small sipping noise.

Something pulled at Kamui's eyelids. 'No, not yet, I don't want to wake up…,' Too late. His eyes were opening, and trying to adjust to the excess light he'd been exposed to. Too much light. Too difficult to adjust to.

"Kamui!" It was Yuzuriha who spoke. "I'm so happy you're awake!" She flung her arms around the man, who hadn't realized he was even lying down until she did so.

"Where…?" Was all he could ask without his throat burning. And it burned like hell itself was stuck in his esophagus.

"'Am I?' The hospital." Sora said calmly, finishing and answering the other's question. "Subaru checked you in, in case your next question was 'How…?'"

Kamui looked up at the other man, still clad in his normal outfit: That silly shirt, bright yellow jacket and the reversed hat. As always.

"Can you get Arashi-chan for me, Yuzuriha; she'll want to know he's awake." Sora was the same. He was about to talk to Kamui like he was an equal. Even though Kamui knew that they weren't equal in any way. Although he wasn't sure who was superior.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Sora began his talk. But once he'd realized Kamui had fallen back into his slumber, he stopped.

Kamui had a problem.

It was painfully obvious.

Kamui knew he had a problem. Ever since he had first used the drug, (the drug he had forgotten the name of, simply calling it Fuuma) he was addicted. When he used it, Fuuma was there. Fuuma was always there.

Ever since the end of the world had officially begun, he hadn't seen the real Fuuma. Until the end of the Final Battle. When he'd realized his true wish (which he couldn't tell you now if he'd tried) he was at the end of the other's sword. But when the realization struck, Fuuma woke up. But Kamui hadn't noticed.

Instead, he killed the other. Mistaking him for the other Kamui. It wasn't until after the crisis (read: end of the world) had been averted that he'd realized it was Fuuma. It was much too late, now. Fuuma was dead. Even more so than when "Kamui" had taken over.

Subaru came to him with the prospect of seeing Fuuma…that was the only promise Kamui needed to fall into the dark pit of addiction.

He never paid for the drugs with money. (Though he had tried countless times.) It was always with magic. Subaru insisted. Saying the weaker Kamui was, the more likely Fuuma would be there. The quicker Fuuma would come to his rescue.

And it was true. The more magic he spent, the sooner Fuuma would be there with him. On the roof of an abandoned building usually.

And nothing mattered after that. Not Yuzuriha, Sora, Arashi, not even himself. All that was important was Fuuma. That he was alive and well. That he was there with Kamui. No, it didn't even matter where he was. Being with him was just a bonus.

Time after time, he had been told to quit. But nobody understood him. He wouldn't give up on his most precious person. What kind of person would that make him? It certainly didn't make him a better person than a druggie, a person willing to destroy themselves to see someone dead. But he believed it did.

In the hospital room, Kamui (still sleeping) let a small tear fall down his cheek. "Fuuma…" He whispered, unconscious. He still would continue to see Fuuma, paying for his "trip" with overwhelming exhaustion. It was his choice, and his friends (although he did love all of them) couldn't change that.

His eyes fluttered open. Had it only been a day since he'd last seen Fuuma? That was too long. Kamui pulled the i.v. from the crook of his elbow, and tried desperately to get out of the too-tightly-tucked bed. When he did, he knew he was free. Nobody could legally keep him here.

He was gone.

End

A/N: I warned you of the angst. Did I not? D; Yeah...So I figured that since the last time he got really bad (like, comatose bad) Subaru was the one to pull him out he could be the only other to pull him out...Only here he is, not only fueling his addiction, he started it in the first place! Life of the Sakurazukamori I suppose... . ^.;; So...yeah. Review and stuff?