The offer still stands…I have to say though, that it usually doesn't get this far before someone figures out what is wrong, and Hiro's at the nastiest end of the symptoms… personal experience is the source of knowledge on this one, so trust me, I know…I won't be mean and make him go through a spinal tap for diagnoses though…it's not needed. Hint…nah. I may add something to make it a little easier if no one gets it by 8 reviews though.

It scared the shit out of me when Hiro…got sick. I knew that tours were stressful, knew that they were particularly hard on him, so when he started to look a little green around the gills I thought of calling it short and letting him rest. Only thought of it, though. Sometimes, I forget that he really looks out for Shuichi without a thought towards himself. He truly is the best type of person to have as a close friend, and I hope he considered me one of his. I know the age difference is something he has trouble with, and I understand that, but if he needs a shoulder to lean on sometimes I want him to know I'm here. I don't want to sit idly by and watch him kill himself.

Which is exactly what I did. My heart almost stopped beating the first time he threw up after a meal, but after that first time he almost never ate with us and when he did it wasn't much. He had lost much of his colour, something that only those close to him would notice, was tired most of the time, and loosing weight. I recognized those symptoms and cornered him after a rehearsal.

"Hiroshi-kun, are you having troubles with your self image?" He looked at me, perplexed. Bingo, I thought…

"What are you talking about?" He finally managed.

"You've lost too much weight and I never see you eat anything. You look fine, Hiroshi-kun, people like you. In fact, according to the latest poles, you have almost as large a fan following as Shuichi."

"What?"

"It's true." And it was…Hiro needed to have more self confidence. I pulled my hand back from where it impacted the wall to let him move. His hair was soft as silk…

"Can I go now? I'm tired."

"You wouldn't be as tired if you gave your body some fuel. Hiroshi-kun…."

"What is it?!" He looked upset, weak, and…just sick.

"Hiroshi, are you anorexic?" I asked flat out. He blinked, then laughed, stopping before too long since it exhausted him, even I could tell that.

"No, I'm not. I'm just not very hungry nowadays. Can I go now?"

I let him. I shouldn't have. I should have dragged him to a doctor. I should have seen what was really going on. I'm an adult, I'm his manager. I should have seen it coming. I should have found a way to stop it…

The next time I found him completely alone was in the restaurant after he vanished to the washroom. We needed to talk, and I pushed him back. He leaned against the wall as I poured him a glass of water from the tank provided and handed it to him.

"Drink it." I ordered, letting the butt of my gun show from inside my jacket. He did, then asked the same question that he had last spoken to me when we were alone.

"Can I go now?" He was exhausted, and I know for a fact he's been sleeping most of the time since we got back. Maybe it was narcolepsy…but maybe not…I still couldn't rule out some sort of eating disorder, the brief contact I had with him telling me that he had kept losing weight.

"You have to eat everything you get, and I'll shut up, alright?" Hiro's head bobbed. This was really starting to make me nervous. It was like the Hiro I knew had been replaced by some pale, skinny doll. I don't know when I had pulled my gun, but I did notice that he didn't pay any attention as he made his way back to the table.

Well shit.

I followed, stashing any evidence of a firearm away from prying eyes, and found our meals waiting for us. I looked at my steak and Hiroshi's salad and thought about forcing some of the meat down his throat even as I took my place and began to eat. He barely picked at it, and that settled it.

"I'm taking you to the doctor tomorrow." Hiroshi nodded, and I relaxed a little. The doctors could figure out what was wrong.

Every bit of tension returned when Hiroshi suddenly turned as white as I have ever seen anyone go, and that's an accomplishment for someone of Oriental ancestry to do to someone who's grown up around Caucasians. He bolted for the washroom again, and I wasn't but a step behind, not even needed to bash against the door as it swung open.

God, this was worse than I thought. His muscles visibly strained as he heaved, I could see the cords of his neck stand out as I held his hair back. I understood what it was like, to have chunks in your hair, and how hard it was to get out. My first day with Michael* taught me that playing airplane right after a kid ate was so not a good idea…

All thoughts of my son flew from my mind as I yanked on the hair in my hands to keep Hiroshi from falling into the bowl of whatever it was he had just gotten out of his system. Footsteps made me turn my head.

"Sakano's calling an ambulance." I saw Shuichi wince even as I hear Hiroshi start again. What was he trying to do? There was nothing there to throw up in the first place…

"K-san?" God, did Shuichi look scared. I gestured for him to come over. Even if he was scared, he wasn't hysterical, yet, and that meant he could watch his best friend while I handled things outside. A crowd was gathering.

"Hold him. Make sure he doesn't drown." I moved to let Suguru, who was looking as scared as Shuichi but handling it a bit better, hold up the side I had been on. I was drawing even as I made for the door.

"Okay! Shows over! Go back to your seats!" My shouting was emphasised by three consecutive shots to the ceiling, and it worked for once. The crowd backed off just in time for the paramedics to rush in. I paid little attention to Sakano, who was in a gibbering heap on the floor by now, and followed them in, catching Shuichi as he tripped over his on feet in order to give the medics more space to work. I let my gun clatter to the floor as not one, but two very scared young men hung on to me and each other as their friend was moved.

Hiroshi was so still as they loaded him onto the stretcher, and I saw blood on the toilet as they pulled out, siren's blaring. Even after the sound faded into the distance I stood there, holding as tightly to Shuichi and Suguru as they were too me.

It wasn't until later that I realized I had been crying.

* yes, K does have a son, and a wife. Michael and Judy…Judy seems to share the same interest in weapons as he eccentric husband, and even gave him one as a present…scary ne? Out of their little family, Michael is the only one that really seems normal, but you don't see that much of him so it's hard to tell… for those who don't know - airplane is when you lift the kid over your head and twirl around. Yes, they do puke, and yes, it is experience talking here…shudders… it _is_ hard to get kiddy chunks out of long hair, especially in a braid… shudders…