Akihiko pressed down on the accelerator as the traffic lights changed and turned the corner, guilt and anger lodged in the middle of his throat.

Akihiko would normally never have done something like this- his feelings for Misaki really were so pure and true that something of this nature was never even thought of. Never did he think he would kiss another man as long as he was with Misaki and for all he had wished, his relationship with the University student would be forever.

He slid down in the leather chair of his car as he entered the middle of the town, eyes flitting subconsciously against the crowds of teenagers and students that flooded through the streets. Outside the clubs, making out under trees, making their clumsy ways home, all of these adolescents were nothing against Misaki. None of them would have half the effect Misaki had on Akihiko.

A huge part of him yearned to hear Misaki's strained voice as he gasped for breath when they made love. Usagi-san...

Akihiko shook his head. For all he knew, he would never hear that nickname again.

Conscious of his hands shaking slightly on the car wheel, he drove smoothly down a ramp, got a ticket from the machine and parked in the unusually empty car park. He sat there, trying to get his thoughts balanced and in their proper places before he went out there and searched for his muse, his love… his Misaki.

Oh, yes. Misaki was his alright. He knew how insane it was to think he owned someone, but there was nothing more sane in Akihiko's world than the thought that Misaki was truly his. And he was damn near sure he had ruined it forever.

Why did Misaki so badly not want to sleep with him? Had he said or done something prior to the horrible incident outside his house two nights ago?
It was normal for Misaki to resist Akihiko, to push him away and curse him. But Akihiko prided himself in being able to melt away that icy stubbornness.

Not anymore though.

It had been weeks, four weeks, since they had been so intimately close and pretty much all of Akihiko's concentration was set on working out why.

It was horribly possible that Misaki was bored of him. It was also possible, though maybe less so, that Misaki had found someone else. But Akihiko didn't want to let go.

In those past frustrating weeks, Misaki had still cooked for him every morning and night, left lunch out for him to take to work, done the laundry, cleaned the house. Retied Suzuki-san's bow… but he spoken less then twenty words to Akihiko, not touched him once aside from when Akihiko went to hug him and ruffle his hair. Akihiko had become scared when Misaki had slapped his hand away so spitefully.

He had tried asking him if he had found someone else, if he still loved him, if there was anything he should be sorry for. But Misaki appeared to ignore him and ate at the other end of the table in silence, before he cleaned both their dishes and went to his room- the room he had barely even been in since he had begun to live there four years before- and studied.

Akihiko had tried to be firm with him, angry with him. He had even begged at one point. But nothing would break through the ice this time, it seemed.

Akihiko's breath became uneven as he began to breathe through his mouth and he sniffed, holding back tears as he put a hand to his mouth. He could still taste the putrid, whisky soaked breath of the man.

If he hadn't felt so certain two nights ago that it was about to be ended officially between Misaki and himself then he knew he would have pushed the man away straight off. But the morning before, Akihiko had seen a packed bag in Misaki's room when he had gone to wake him. He had stood in Misaki's room for so long staring at the bag. Misaki had already left and breakfast had been left in the fridge for him. He had left so quietly Akihiko had not noticed.

A bitter sadness had embraced him and he sat at his computer all day at work, writing with an all too familiar, morbid and depressing style.

Akihiko got out of the car and walked up the ramp, putting on his glasses, hat, long black coat and scarf as he did so.

He kept his head low as he tried to recall the conversation he had overheard Misaki having last night in his room. He had said he would meet someone at a club in town. But which club had it been?

As he tried to remember it, the memory of when Misaki had crossed the road after seeing him kissing another man floated like thick gloop through his mind.

He had walked straight past him, punched in the number to get into the block and gone straight to his room. That was the last time Akihiko had seen him. But he knew Misaki had been there by the books that lay strewn around his room and the sounds of him walking around the house, going about his daily routine.

Akihiko swerved to the right as a group of teens blared an unfamiliar song and swayed almost right into him. The night was getting chillier and he hoped that Misaki had a coat or jacket of some kind with him.

Hands balled into fists deep inside his pockets, he looked up to his right as a blue sign flashed. The Last Palm- was that the club Misaki had spoken about?

"Oi, Misaki! They've arrived. Come on, come over here!" He knew that voice… Akihiko spun in the direction of the club, eyes scanning furiously over the heads of all the students that had manifested around the plank-wood floored room. It would have been pitch black in there if it weren't for the luminous neon lights that flashed around the room. There were no doors in front of the place, so it was easy for him to spot Misaki with another taller boy who was bending down and pointing towards the bar where three others were waving at them.