Two blonde men sat in an apartment living room. One was twenty-three year old Eiri Uesugi, better known by his pen name, Yuki Eiri, was waiting for news on his sick lover from the house call doctor. The other man was thirty-two year old Tohma Seguchi, Eiri's brother in law, who had been visiting.

'I should've realized he was sick,' Eiri agonized while holding his head in his hands, 'I should have recognized the signs. Then maybe he wouldn't be so sick!'

It had all started when Shu had come home from work earlier that evening.

Yuki tapped his pen on the counter impatiently. "To think I cleared my whole evening for him and he's late."

Tohma chuckled softly from the couch in the living room. "Well, I did warn you he might be kind of behind schedule."

Yuki was about to retort, when he heard the front door open. Poised and ready for a shouting match, he strode down the hall, almost colliding with his pink-haired lover. "Where the hell have you-?" the writer began to ask, but was cut off by Shuichi falling head-first into him, knocking them both to the floor. "Oof, what the hell, brat?"

He turned Shuichi over, only to find him unconcious. Anxiety rearing it's ugly head, he felt the boy's forehead, finding it almost searing to the touch. "Tohma!" he called in a strangled voice, "Tohma, get over here!"

The other blond came running, staggering to a stop at the sight of his brother-in-law holding up his limp employee. "Something's wrong with him," Yuki whispered in a helpless tone, "What's wrong with him?"

The last time Tohma had heard that tone was in New York six years ago.

"Put him in bed." the keyboardist ordered, "I'll call 911."

As Yuki carried his lover to the bedroom, he noticed some yellowish discoloration on the skin around Shuichi's eyes and mouth. This only heightened his fear level. Shu had had a small bout of jaundice infection a few days ago, but he had assured Yuki laughingly that it was nothing to worry about. Yuki worried anyway, however, and his worry was intensifying by the second now. He didn't know much about jaundice. In fact, he only knew two things. One, jaundice was a blood infection that didn't just "go away" as Shuichi so bluntly put it, and two, it could cause one of the most deadly incurable diseases.

Yellow Fever.

The on-call doctor for the Uesugi family stationed in Tokyo arrived moments later. He asked Yuki whether or not Shuichi had been sick at all over the past week. "He had a small hit of jaundice a couple days ago," Yuki said shakily, unable to keep his voice under control, "But he said he took medication and it was gone..."

"That boy must have lied," he doctor said shortly, hanging up his coat on the hook Tohma offered, "Jaundice infection does not just go away with a medicine, it needs much more time to heal that a few days."

With that, he entered the bedroom.

That had been over twenty minutes ago. "God, what's going on in there?" Yuki muttered, heart racing, palms sweating. "I'm going to need the doctor next."

Tohma was going to reply, when footsteps exited the bedroom. The two men hurried to where the doctor was standing with a grim expression.

Then, out of Doctor Kaigara's mouth, came two words, four syllables, that made Yuki's heart stop.

"Yellow fever."

"It's hopeless," the doctor said sadly, pulling his coat on again, "He won't make it through the night. Yellow fever is incurable, as you probably know, and he's too far gone to even attempt a vaccination. I'm suprised he didn't tell anyone, since he must have been feeling awful for days." Tohma raised an eyebrow. "He can't have caught this recently, you said he had jaundice before, that was probably, no, definatly the cause. I highly doubt he'll make it, I'm terribly sorry."

"He is concious though," he looked pointedly at Yuki, "and the fever is past the contagious stage, so..."

Without waiting to hear anymore, Yuki charged into the room which held his dying lover.

Inside the bedroom, only the nightstand lamp was on. The novelist stood in the doorway hesitantly, before taking quick steps toward the bed. Up close, he could see just how bad Shuichi really was. The singer was pale and sweaty, the yellow patches on his face more defined than ever. His eyes were open but half-lidded, and they already seemed glassy. "Yuki?" asked a shaking, weak voice.

"I'm..." Yuki swallowed, he didn't know what to say. Only one other time had he seen a person die, and that too had been his fault.

His fault.

"This is all my fault," Yuki felt moisture run out of his face and down his eyes as he sat on the stool the doctor had previously been using, grasping Shuichi's hand tightly in both his own, "I should have seen this. I knew you had that infection, but I should've taken better care, I should have-"

Shuichi cut him off my pressing the back of his hand gently on the novelist's lips. "It's my fault, Yuki," he whispered, voice cracking with each breath, "I knew I was sick with something, but I didn't want..." he started coughing, and sweat poured down his face more rapidly. Yuki just held his hand tighter, more tears running down his face. "I didn't want to worry anyone."

"Worry anyone?! This is your life, Shu! If you had just told me, just said something..."

Shuichi nodded, a few stray tears running down his own face. "We're both some big crybabies, huh Yuki?" he giggled almost silently, turning a bit paler, "Seriously, you don't cry for six whole years, and you meet me and do it twice in the same year."

Despite his tears and the situation, Yuki smiled. "Only for you." He then leaned his head down and whispered in Shuichi's ear three words the singer desperatly wanted to hear from him.

"I love you."

Shuichi gasped weakly, and tightened his grip on Yuki's hands. "You do? You really..."

His eyes began to glaze over as he whispered his final words. "I love you too, Yuki, so much..."

His hand slipped from Yuki's, and his amythest eyes grew dim and closed.

"Shuichi? Shuichi..."

He hesitated, and then pressed his face into the singer's lifeless torso, starting to sob.

"Nooooo..." he moaned, "Nonononononononoooo..."

He was gone.

Tohma walked into the room, only to back out again when he saw the scene before him. He knew his brother-in-law needed to be with Shuichi for a while, alone.

"He has to come to terms with this."

Yuki, meanwhile, still had his face pressed into Shuichi's chest, murmuring three words over and over. Three words Shuichi had been so desperate to hear. Three words he'd heard right before his ascent to heaven.

"I love you."