CHAPTER EIGHT


Souichi wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew one thing for certain, he didn't like it. He glared at the two men hovering over him, one with a needle of some sort and the other with a small white cloth. Once again he struggled against the restraints, but they were so tight that doing so sent sharp threads of pain through his dendrites. As the cloth came closer to his face, he turned his head, the smell repugnant. With a cough he was about to ask what the hell they thought they were doing, but the damn thing covered his nose and mouth.

Trying not to inhale whatever the cloth had been soaked in, his eyes closed as the world turned dark. It was some time before he came to.

Ren grinned, as he looked at Kei's handiwork, "As always, you've done a beautiful job."

Kei smirked, bowing, "Why thank you Ren. Although it's a good thing you made him pass out, otherwise it might have come out not looking so great hmmn?"

"I suppose you might be right. I've already rung up his bill and put his wallet back. Best to give him to the guy outside before he totally wakes up, don't need another rowdy customer messing up the place."

"That's right... okay then, help me," he said as he unbuckled the restraints and lifted the guy up with his assistants help.

Hiroto had been waiting outside, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. There had been a few times he'd nearly stepped inside, but from what he'd heard about this particular tattoo parlor he'd just not been able to do it. 'Sorry Tatsumi, and sorry Angel-kun...' but he was starting to get even more worried than before, since it seemed to be taking a really long time, even for an unwanted tattoo. However the tattoo men came out.

"Hey, you should take your friend home now."

"Uh... yeah..." he frowned, he knew Tatsumi had been drunk, but he hadn't thought he'd pass out... plus there was a strange smell. "What did you do to him?"

"Oh... nothing... just had to knock him out so that he didn't move to much, guess he's pretty sensitive, didn't like the needle much at all."

Hiroto took a hold of the blond man and shook him, "Hey...Tatsumi..."

The man gave a grunt, "Ugghh..." which relieved Hiroto, but he managed to glare at the tattoo artist and his assistant.

"Really, I don't think you two should even be in business. Also, when he comes to fully I'm pretty sure you're gonna wanna high tail it." He began walking Tatsumi across the street and toward his apartment as the two men gazed after them somewhat dumbfounded and wondering what the hell he'd meant by that.

As they walked, the cool air seemed to help Souichi sober up and become conscious again. "What happened? My arm is freakin' sore..." he looked up at the apartment complex, apparently he was almost back home again... in that empty share devoid of that idiots usual presence. He turned his head to stare at his shoulder, wondering why it stung so much as Hiroto let him go. "What the hell is this?"

Hiroto nervously chuckled, "Uhm... well you... uh... walked into a tattoo...parlor...and that's what they... did."

"What the fuck!?" He glowered and turned around, but he didn't remember which way the place lay in. "I'm gonna kill them!"

"Tatsumi-san, I don't think that's such a good idea." That earned him yet another of those infamous death glares which caused him even more unease. "Hey... don't get mad, I'm just sayin' that ya should get some rest first and deal with them later. If ya go back there, they might just use something on ya and give ya even more tattoos."

Souichi was far from being pleased, he was furious, but he didn't know which way to go and he really was tired. The pain in his arm however bothered him, "Damn jerks," he muttered. "Fine." He swerved and stomped up the stairs to his and Morianga's apartment, not even yet realizing what the damn tattoo said, just that it was there.

Hiroto heaved a sigh of relief, shaking his head as he turned to head back towards his own place. He felt terrible about not having done anything to help Tatsumi, but then again he could have just made things worse for both of them. 'I think maybe... Tatsumi really needs Angel-kun... a lot more than either of them have ever realized. I truly hope for Tatsumi's sake that Angel-kun hasn't become a real angel.' Tomorrow he had to work again, even having already taken an extra shift for someone else, so he needed as much sleep as he could get.

Once inside, Souichi shut the door behind him, looking around the empty apartment again. 'I miss your presence here...never thought I would...so much...' He wondered why that was, but he determined that it was probably because he'd never actually lived on his own, other than that time in Canada and that had been just temporary.

Again tears began to well up, because despite his earlier declaration that he didn't think Morinaga to be dead, it was still a very real and painful possibility. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand he took a quick shower, careful to lean against the wall as he did so due to being not quite sober. He didn't even bother with a change of clothes as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

As he walked toward his bedroom, he thought that if Morinaga were there, he might have tried something. At that thought he bit his lip, neither laughing nor scowling. Turning around he instead entered Morinaga's room, where his scent still lingered. It was something he hadn't really paid any attention to before, but now that he dwelled on it, he recalled that the man did have his own unique scent.

Laying down on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling he frowned as his shoulder grazed the pillow where he'd received an un-wished for tattoo. Turning his head to look at it, which from his angle was upside down, he made it out, I belong to...Morinaga Tetsuhiro. He blinked, "What?"

The long haired man sat up in the bed as that one sentence ran through his head again and again. At first he was angry, but as he continued to think it, for the words to reverberate through his head over and over again his heart began to beat unevenly. It was becoming difficult to breath as a lump formed in his throat, and trying to suppress the tears, his body shook as they slid down from the corners of his eyes. Grabbing one of the pillows he hugged it to him, burying his face in its contours.

He hated crying, it made him feel like a fool, yet he couldn't help it as the sobs racked painfully through him. 'I'm an idiot...' his curled fists pounded into the mattress beneath him, before falling into yet another restless sleep.