Mmm. Yes. I am still alive. It's just in between the time of my last update to now, I've undergone five surgeries, two family deaths, final exams, the saying goodbye to close friends, and some other melodramatic high school trauma drama. I have every intention of finishing this story, especially with the greatness of the most welcomed summer that has now graced my little town.

I am slightly pissed though. I feel very unloved . I got three reviews for the last chapter, which all ended up somehow deleted. Love me more people!

I feel as though this story is slightly going out of the direction I had intended for it. Paces will change, things are going to slow down. Sorry, and forgive my abuse to this work.

The Wallpaper

Chapter Nine

To Wonder and to Think

When you sit in an uncomfortable silence, you can best describe it with the popular phrase, "The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife." It's accurate, most of the time, depending on the situation. In Shuichi's case, it wasn't quite the proper phrase.

The silence was more welcomed, despite its awkward terms. In the early hours of the morning, sitting on an orange carpet and leaning against the disgusting wallpaper, he and the man sitting only a few inches away were both too tired to raise their voices.

Shuichi's lashes fluttered low along his rosy pale cheeks. His long pink bangs tickled the sides of his face and his ears, but he made no attempt to brush them away. He just had no will at all, not even to move his arms or lips or anything, any sign at all that there would be blood flowing through his veins. His will had succumbed to tiredness.

"Why did you call me Eiri?" Finally, a voice broke through the silence. Yet Shuichi didn't know if he should respond, for the words spoken just seemed to disappear in the foggy streams of light floating in the room from the small window.

"Because that is your name." Shuichi stated hesitantly. He looked to his side, finding Yuki's gaze directed no where in particular.

"No, it isn't." Yuki mumbled back stubbornly. While continuing to let his gaze wander, he reached out his right arm, wrapping it behind Shuichi's waist, signaling for him to get on his lap. Shuichi complied without hesitation.

"Don't play that bull shit with me. You may think I'm not very smart, but I am perfectly capable of understanding these sorts of things. I just want to know you more. You can trust me Eiri-" Shuichi's speech was cut off by a pair of dry lips attaching to his, slowly and carefully at first, pushing and parting their way to a seductive feeling. Just as quickly as the sensation was administered, it was broken, and Yuki pulled back with a glare in his eyes.

"Never call me Eiri again."

"But that's your -name-, come on Eiri I just want to know more-"

"Shut up. You know me plenty enough to fuck with me. I'm not here to play twenty questions with you. My name is Yuki, and that's all you need." His eyes were fierce, demanding that subject be dropped.


About six weeks later

"Shuichi, we need to find another gig soon. Money is drying up fast." Suguru muttered as he flipped through the newspaper.

Shuichi rolled over on his bed, directing his gaze towards the other teen. "How so," he asked.

Suguru glared at the singer for his response. "For food, and music equipment and other -glorious- things like that Shuichi. Hiroshi can't afford everything on his own you know. So either find another gig or get a job." Suguru snapped as he flipped the newspaper page rather harshly.

"Well then, why don't you get off -your- lazy ass and get a job then, hmm?" Shuichi replied in frustration, rolling back under his warm blankets.

"Because, I'm to busy dealing with the contract our landlord has us under. I now have to see him Monday, Thursday -and- Friday." Suguru said, holding back his discomfort in the conversation.

"What is it you do for that man, Suguru?"

"Nothing."


The cold air of the morning felt comforting against Eiri's slightly flushed skin as he stepped outside. With his hands in his pockets and head cast down, he walked away from his apartment into the early winter day.

He was to deliver another package.

Sometimes he would wonder about what exactly he was delivering. Drugs? Money? Could be anything for all Eiri knew. No use in worrying himself about it.

He sighed, gazing up along the various windows of the building he lived in. Spotting his, he quickly dropped his head again.

Shuichi didn't bring up the subject again. They had a routine of eating, talking, fucking and then sleeping. This was good enough for Eiri. Mostly Shuichi would talk about his band, or his roommates, or something uninteresting like that. As though nothing was wrong.

Eiri sighed once more, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.

He wasn't complaining though. As long as he or Shuichi didn't get in too deep, and as long as the cops didn't come knocking on his door, he was fine. He'd have something to fuck, and someone to give a rat's ass about him once in a while. Which he had to admit was nice. If he ever wound up dead in his apartment, he might be discovered by Shuichi. Not just some neighbor complaining about a foul stench that's been drifting into his or her apartment for a week or so.

Pulling his cigarette away Eiri allowed himself a laugh at that.

Either way, life was as good as it was going to get.


Shuichi sighed to himself. He was all alone in his apartment that he shared with his two best friends, doing absolutely nothing. With Hiroshi at work, and Suguru off doing only goodness knows what, he was left to his own self.

Sitting crisscross on his bed with his comforter wrapped tightly around him, he sighed again.

He had been trying fruitlessly for weeks now to get Eiri to talk. Yet, each time he opened to say something about it, he became to frightened, and would change the subject immediately. It was miserable for him to have to sit and observe from afar, not being able to catch on to any idea whatsoever what his Eiri was about. Who was he? Why was he here? All these things…

Shuichi shook his head, his lips forming a sad smile. The more Shuichi was around him, the more lifeless the man seemed. He was so dark and mysterious, so odd and frustrating. Shuichi wanted to know everything this man was about, and it just wasn't working to his advantage.

Just then the door was opened, revealing a tired and downcast Suguru. He walked in slowly, looking fresh out of a shower.

"You okay Suguru," he asked. The boy looked at him, shook his head yes, and then made his way toward the kitchen.

End Chapter Nine.