Chapter Six

It was late. He drove back in past the gates, and steered to the familiar parking spot. The digital clock read 11:19. He had been on the road for four hours already, to all the places he and Genrou used to go, any place at all, which held memories of their being together. But he hadn't found the younger man, and somewhere along the way, he had stopped crying even as his eyes burned with the urge to.

Houjun alighted from the car, locking it mechanically behind him, and then turning to walk to the lobby. He remembered vaguely that the apartment door had been left open, but it was a fact that held little interest to him at that point in time. As he stepped into the lift, he grabbed his head in his hands and bit his lip.

How did things get this way? It was supposed to be a perfect evening…a celebration of our second chance, Genrou…

The soft tinkling chimes as the lift doors slid open alerted him to the fact that he had reached his floor, and he stepped out, his posture one of dejected moroseness. Kourin was nowhere in sight. And then he saw the figure sitting on the rail of the balcony through the open door of the apartment, and his heart leapt. Had Genrou come back?

He practically flew forward, his heart beating rapidly in hope and exhilaration, and the figure turned at the sound of his entrance. His heart sank.

"Hikou," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hey, Houjun." His best friend jumped off the rail and walked towards him, his dark eyes fixed on him. Hikou had lost weight. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he walked with tiredness in his step that could not be disguised.

"Hikou," he repeated, staring helplessly at the other man as he approached him. He could think of nothing to say. What could he say?

"I know Kourin came to you earlier today."

He stiffened immediately, his shoulders tensing in anger, but he held it in, not trusting himself to speak. Hikou noticed, but didn't comment as he stopped in front of Houjun.

"I'm so sorry, Houjun."

Don't start. Please, don't start.

"I've been neglecting Kourin a lot lately, Houjun. I practically pushed her into your arms, I guess," he gave a short, bitter laugh. "And…she always had a thing for you, you know?"

It was by sheer willpower that Houjun managed to keep his arms by his side. The anger and frustration was boiling over by now, and only common sense held him back as he stood, rigidly, his gaze fixed on the ground in an attempt to maintain control. How he wanted to hit out, at something, at anything!

"So?" he asked in a low voice.

"Well, I really do love her," Hikou's voice wavered slightly. "I want her back…if she'll have me."

Panic seized him. Would Genrou ever come back? The fog of doubt clouded his mind so, that he only noticed that Hikou had stopped talking when the latter patted his shoulder.

"What?" he snapped.

Hikou looked away. And then spoke abruptly. "I have cancer, Houjun."