Yuki Eiri had issues. He knew this. He saw a psychiatrist, had a prescription or two for when things got bad. The novelist knew and understood that he was traumatized. He knew he had emotional problems. He knew that it wasn't healthy to shut others out when they tried to get through to him. But he just…..didn't want it. He hated his shrink and avoided taking the drugs as often as he could.

They were supposed to be for the times when he really couldn't deal; when the depression and ghosts of the past ate away at him at an unbearable pace. When he sometimes spent hours just sitting, locked in the memories. Usually he was at his laptop where he could throw up a quick front if Shuichi came in. Sometimes though, when there was practically no chance of his boyfriend showing up unexpectedly, he was on his bed, or in the bathtub. Occasionally, he could be found in the kitchen, leaning against the oven. No matter where he ended up, the position was the same. Knees pulled up against his chest, arms shielding his head, as he hid his face in his lap and breathed, heavily and fast. Every once in a while, his breathing would become so escalated he would hyperventilate and have to grab a paper bag from the cabinet. These episodes were the times when the pills were supposed to be taken. But 99% of the time, Eiri refused to even touch the bottles.

He felt…..off. Not dirty. Not like it was his fault. He knew it wasn't his fault. It wasn't Tohma's fault either; despite how many times his brother-in-law had tried to take the blame. Eiri loved Tohma. Not romantically, though he had exchanged a few kisses with him over the years. They had an understanding. Shuichi didn't know of the actual relationship between the two blonds. Eiri always pretended Tohma's attentions annoyed him. Sometimes they did. The times where his concern was overshadowed by the load of guilt he burdened himself with. But no, for the most part, Tohma didn't bother Eiri at all. Tohma was who he ran to when his demons tried to come out of the shadows of his bedroom and torment him.

When he couldn't physically go to Tohma, there was always the relief of pressing his brother-in-law's speed dial number and listening, counting the rings until his call was answered, and staring down the demons who always began to retreat when Tohma's soft voice came through the line. When he did physically run to Tohma, he always used his own key to let himself into the house. Through a side door in case his sister was home. Mika…..just couldn't help him. He loved his sister, of course, but she wasn't Tohma.

Tohma was usually pretty easy to find in the giant house. He didn't use most of it anyway. A few turns, two flights of stairs and Eiri was in Tohma's studio, home to multiple keyboards, pianos, and synthesizers, as well as a couple other instruments Tohma also played. The atmosphere was comforting to Eiri. The walls were a deep purple and the floor was a shiny dark wood. Overall, the studio would be pretty dark if not for the expertly placed lighting that keep everything….just right. Also included was a beautiful couch, selected not only for its comfort, but also its largeness. It hid Eiri whenever he felt the need to hide. Tohma knew what Eiri needed and provided it without ever having to be told. He just knew.

Most times, Eiri found him in the studio. If not, he'd take a seat and wait until Tohma came. When he did, he wouldn't ask what was wrong. He knew. Instead of trying to play therapist, he'd take a seat, next to Eiri, or at one of his instruments, and just talk. He'd ask opinions on compositions and arrangements, on lyrics, or inquire as to whether or not Eiri liked his socks, which either didn't match or were weird and crazy. Formal Tohma was left to the office and others. In this place, with Eiri, Tohma was just….Tohma. And that's just the way Eiri liked it. Sometimes they'd play music together. Tohma had actually taught Eiri piano when he was a teenager. Yet another fact almost no one knew.

When Eiri did breakdown in Tohma's studio, the other was always right there, knowing just where to touch and what to say to soothe his troubled brother. Sometimes a hug was in order. Other times, just a touch on the wrist was enough. Tohma just always knew. When Eiri felt okay again, he'd get up to leave. Tohma would smile in that gentle way of his and a quick kiss would be exchanged before Eiri slipped out of the house and back to reality. So, regardless of what others saw, Eiri loved Tohma.

Then there was the matter of Shuichi. The singer had forced his way into Eiri's life and there wasn't a thing the novelist could do about it. At first, it was kind of annoying. He didn't like forced things. But soon, the pink-headed kid stopped being a nuisance and evolved into something….somewhat comforting. Occasionally, the overdone displays of affection were too much and Eiri had to shut Shuichi down, but he did love the kid. He was mostly unsure as to what kind of love it was, but was content being Shuichi's boyfriend. Was he in love with him? No, he didn't think so. Tohma didn't either. But he did care, more than a little. This was why he was so cold to the singer. This was why he didn't let him in. It hurt Shuichi sometimes, but it was better than all of the hurt that could be unleashed if he knew the full truth. If he knew about the episodes, the demons, the refusal to take the meds. No, he wouldn't taint the brightness that was Shuichi like that. Eventually, he figured Shuichi would tire of being shut out and break up with him. He'd miss him, but it wouldn't break his heart, so long as the kid remained in his life. He secretly valued Shuichi's friendship and affection and never wanted to lose it, even if the boy wasn't his boyfriend. No, Shuichi couldn't know the full story. He already knew more than Eiri wanted him to. No more would be allowed to come to light. And so, he'd kick Shuichi out of the apartment yet another night if the shadows crept up and threatened to consume him.

There was one other who could help Eiri out in his darkest hours. But he was gone. Not anywhere the writer could reach him. He hadn't seen him in ages. Physically, he was just a short drive away. He could call him, the digits burned into his memory forever. But no. That person was gone. Things had changed. Ryuichi had left. Three long years, Eiri suffered without him. He heard from him regularly, got the letters and occasional presents. But it wasn't the same. His best friend had left. Run away because he couldn't stand the pain. He had finally seen him again the night of Shuichi's first concert. First, heard his voice, rising above the noisy crowd, then seen him, walking through as if parting the Red Sea. He rescued Shuichi from failure without even knowing him. That was just Ryuichi's way. But not for Eiri. Not anymore. It had been too much. America called, said they wanted an actor. The pain grinned and said, "Take it, Ryuichi. Run away, get away." And he did.

Ryuichi was too good. The taint of Eiri's problems had started to infect Ryuichi. So, he ran. Eiri encouraged him to. Told him to go, take the opportunity, be a star. He'd been reluctant, but Eiri proved more determined. He had to save him from the taint, and so, he pushed, and Ryuichi went. When he came back, they'd talked, but it wasn't….right. Slowly, the contact became nonexistent. He knew Ryuichi knew why he treated Shuichi the way he did. He knew Ryuichi knew everything. And so, no matter how much he just wanted to run to him, he resisted and prayed that his friend would run again, far far away, and keep rising as Eiri barely kept from falling.

The night he'd been expecting finally came. Shuichi was sitting next to him on the couch. The singer sighed, and Eiri knew. The time had come.

"Yuki….."

"Yeah, kid?"

"…..I think….we need to talk…."

Eiri felt his stomach tighten a bit. He turned his head towards Shuichi, taking in every last second of the bright little light in his life.

"…I don't think we're working out…I've been trying to get through for so long now….and it just isn't working…I think…..we should break up….."

The novelist didn't speak for a moment, then, "…Okay…."

Violet eyes turned to him, wide and shining at the edges with the beginnings of tears. "It's not that I don't love you or anything like that, Yuki. I just can't do it anymore. I gotta-.."

Eiri cut him off with a kiss. "I know, kid….I know. It's okay."

"R-really?"

"Yeah, really."

Shuichi stared at the blond for a minute before jumping forward to hug him. After a bit, Eiri let his hands fall around the singer. They stayed that way for a little while, until Shuichi finally let go. "I…think I'll stay at Hiro's tonight…okay?" Eiri nodded, walking with him to the door. "Umm…well, good night…Yuki…." Shuichi mumbled, scuffing his shoe awkwardly behind him. The writer smiled and ruffled his pink hair.

"Good night, Shuichi."

As Shuichi faded into the night, Eiri closed the door behind him and sighed, digging in his pocket for his cigarettes and cell phone. He hit Tohma's number as he lit his poison and leaned back into his couch, counting. 1...2…3…4…5…then, a soft click as the call was answered.

"Eiri?"

"Shuichi broke up with me."

"I see….Are you alright?"

"….Yeah…"

"Good…"

"Good night, Tohma."

"Good night, Eiri."

Calm flooded his body as he hung up. Sometimes…he just needed to hear Tohma's voice. Eiri jumped a bit when his door was knocked on. Cautiously, he approached the door and opened it partially. When he saw who was behind it, he quickly undid the latch and let the door swing open.

"Shuichi told me….Are you okay?"

Eiri could only stare as Ryuichi entered the apartment, dressed in a haphazard way that was unlike him. While Ryuichi always looked good, Eiri could tell when he just threw clothes on, having known him long enough.

"...You threw on those clothes and came over here….to ask if I'm okay." Not a question. A fact.

"Yeah."

"I'm okay."

But he wasn't. His heart wasn't broken, no. But the shadows were creeping closer and the demons were whispering from the corners. And Ryuichi knew this. He just knew. He crossed to the window and leaned forward, staring out it blankly. After a few seconds hesitation, Eiri joined him. Ryuichi's eyes were dark and troubled as he focused on the black nothing outside the window. Suddenly, his voice came, quiet and heavy.

"Do they still come? From the corners and dark?"

"Yeah." the blond replied. "Yours?"

"Yeah."

Ryuichi, who seemed so happy and carefree to most, had demons of his own. What others thought was a stubborn refusal to grow up was actually his public coping mechanism. In private, when the demons came, Ryuichi had his own episodes and his own medications that he refused to take. In private, there was no bouncing around and playing with Kumagoro. No coloring on walls and floors. No, in private, Ryuichi dealt with the shadows the same ways Eiri did. He called Tohma. He rode them out. He wrote music or danced in an attempt to shut them out. But, in public, when he couldn't curl up in a corner, he bounced and played, acted like a child. Because as only a few people knew, Ryuichi's problems had started early.

It wasn't that he'd had an unhappy childhood or bad parents. Actually, as a child he'd been spoiled, but not bratty like some would expect. He'd gotten most everything he ever wanted and had gone a lot of fun places. His parents were attentive, encouraged him to do his best, and held an interest in his grades and activities. So, overall, Ryuichi's childhood was pretty good. As a preteen and teenager, things didn't change much, though he sometimes had spats with his parents over the occasional issue, but never anything too serious. However, when Ryuichi looked back, he hadn't been very popular with many of the other children in primary school. He wasn't sure if it was just because he had been shy or if they'd been jealous of him. All he knew was that most of the time they'd ignored him when he actually did reach out to them. By the end of primary school and in the beginning of middle school, he'd found a few good friends, which in his mind was much better than being in the popular crowd where your so-called friends backstabbed you constantly. His two best friends were Tohma and Noriko. Throughout that time, Ryuichi remained pretty quiet and continued to follow his parent's expectations of good grades and good behavior.

However, by the time he entered high school, he began to discover that he didn't necessarily want to be his parent's perfect child. Yes, of course he would continue making good grades. But his parents wanted more than that. They didn't want him to have sex before he was married, drinking, doing drugs, cursing, or anything really that typical teenagers did. Of course he understood that they wanted to protect him and knew that for the most part, doing these things wasn't good. But he was teenager and he wanted a little freedom. So he began trying things behind their backs. When he could get them to let him hang out with friends other than Tohma and Noriko, or the two of them and others, he had sex, drank, tried smoking cigarettes and pot, and cussed. He was always careful not to overdo it, made sure he was being as safe as possible. But he soon discovered his emotional health wasn't very ideal. Things that should have bothered him a lot of the time didn't. When stress became a factor in his life, he had an extremely difficult time managing it. His emotions often ran too high or too low. He always felt either too much or too little, sometimes nothing. Depression was his secret. He couldn't talk to his parents. They had never really believed in mental and emotional problems, and would just tell him he had no reason to feel like that and to get over it. He did have a reason though. Having feelings had never been top priority to his parents as far as encouragement went. It was always 'do your best at this and that, make good grades, so on so forth.' His emotional health had never been developed.

So, when he finally did fall in love, he fell hard and fast. And when he lost that person for the first time, it nearly killed him. Finally, after being on and off, back and forth, with that person, he'd managed to move on. He tried and tried to get better and eventually he did. Sort of. Tohma finally got him to see a therapist. But by then…..he didn't want one. When he was in high school, the idea of having someone to talk to who wasn't allowed to judge and who could potentially really help was appealing. However, there'd been no way for him to see one. By the time he had the ability to have a therapist….he felt too far gone. He went to his sessions, followed the routine, and allowed them to prescribe him drugs to help. But like Eiri, he hated it, refused to take his medications, and chose to deal with his problems in ways that weren't recommended. Singing had helped him become functional again, but the demons still came, and no one outside of his choosing could know. Even his parents still didn't know of his problems, though they did dislike his childish coping mechanism.

'Is it not enough you dress like that and sing about such things? Do you have to act like a child too? Don't you get enough attention?' Yep. Even after all these years, they were still no help whatsoever.

All of this ran at light speed through Ryuichi's mind as he met Eiri's golden gaze. And then there was the matter of the novelist. His best friend. Someone who intimately understood the shadows that crept up to haunt, who he could discuss them with without anxiety. He had missed Eiri so much. But when he was offered a career in America, his friend had encouraged him to go. Ryuichi had been reluctant. He didn't want to abandon Eiri to face his demons alone….But at the same time, he wanted to run far away from the blond. He didn't want his own demons to intrude upon his friend either. And so, he'd chosen the lesser of the two evils and gone to America. He stayed in touch for awhile, sent gifts, clung to the friendship he'd left behind. When he returned to Japan, he'd planned on visiting Eiri as soon as possible. In fact, he'd meant for it to be the day after that concert where he saved Shuichi. But then, as he was standing on the stage, he saw Eiri in the back of the club and felt the demons rushing up on him, especially from around Tatchi Aizawa and his band. He tried to be carefree and happy to drive them away, but it didn't work. So he sang with Shuichi to drive them away. By the time he had another chance to look, Eiri had disappeared. As he settled into bed that night, he decided he would go see his friend the next day. But when morning came, he couldn't bring himself to do it. And so, he hadn't been alone with Eiri in the entire time he'd been back. He'd been in the same room a few times when Shuichi forced the novelist to come to parties and such. But never alone. And now…here they were.

"I've missed you."

"I missed you, too, Ryu."

Another silence settled around the two. Eiri watched Ryuichi's gaze darken as his eyes focused on a corner of the room behind the novelist. The singer's demons were trying to get him again. In that same moment, Eiri saw his begin to visualize in the opposite corner. He knew Ryuichi could tell, too. Golden gaze locked with sapphire.

"They aren't ever going to go away…." Ryuichi said quietly.

"I know…."

Both took a step closer to the other, eyes still locked. They refused to look at the shadows that were steadily coming closer and closer. Eiri leaned down a bit as Ryuichi tilted his head up. Two sets of pale lips came together and the two finally let their eyes slide closed. Ryuichi's hands came to rest on Eiri's waist while the novelist pulled the singer closer with one hand, the other gently holding the back of his head. For awhile, they stayed like that, unmoving. Then gradually, their kiss began to gain a bit of warmth and passion, becoming more real and involved. The shadows began to recede back to the abysses and the two pulled apart. A look passed between them.

"Are they gone yet?"

"Not quite…" Ryuichi replied under his breath. "Not…quite…."

Both men slid down to the floor and leaned against the wall. Eiri looked over at the older male.

"What are we going to do?"

Ryuichi shrugged. "Get through it a second at a time, I guess." He turned his head toward the blond, and leaned back in.

It looked as though maybe, just maybe, the two tortured souls had found their medication.