a/n: Okay folks, here's part three! Sorry this took so long _ It's actually growing to be a *much* longer story than I originally thought, so I'm not sure when it'll get completely wrapped up...hopefully soon. Two warnings go with this part: first, I wrote my first attempt at a song for the concert scene. Granted, it's *supposed* to suck because it's poor Shuichi's amateurish attempt, but...well, it's not exactly genius. Raw tomatoes welcome ^_^ Second, it plods along a bit in the beginning, but I think that it improves considerably toward the end. Hope you stick it out!

Chapter Three: It's my life

"Ohayou gozaimasu, minna-san." Uesugi Eiri entered the classroom, cool and business-like, mentally prepared for a second day of babysitting a group of morons.

"Ohayou gozaimasu, Uesugi-sensei." The class politely replied, somewhat wary of their new teacher. In the back of the class, Shuichi replied heartily, hoping to catch the man's attention. After last night's encounter at the sensei's apartment, Shuichi had gone to bed with a new purpose: prove to Uesugi Eiri that he wasn't an idiot, a freak, or a pest, and to earn his respect as a talented musician. Beyond that, he had the strong desire reach out and help his cold sensei. He had meant what he said last night, that the man needed Shuichi and his music, if only to add some brightness to his grey life.

Without further comment, Eiri opened his briefcase and unloaded its contents on the desk. As he casually walked over to the coatrack in the corner of the room to take off his neatly pressed navy suit jacket, he couldn't help but cast Shuichi a sidewise glance, gesturing back to the desk with his eyes. Startled by the unexpected eye contact, Shuichi followed Eiri's line of vision to the desktop, where his well-worn songbook lay.

Shuichi groaned, dropping his head into his hands, wondering how he could have been so stupid. He was so worked up last night at the man's arrogance that he hadn't even bothered to take back his notebook before leaving the apartment! Worse yet, now it appeared that Uesugi-sensei was going to delight in waving the captive book under his nose.

"Now, class, I trust that you are all ready to get down to work after yesterday's pathetic display of ineptitude." Eye's glittering, he continued. "I have prepared a short story for you to read this morning. Ishida-san, could you please distribute these?"

*Mami-chan's Day Out?!* One boy exclaimed, disbelieving.

"Sensei, is this a joke?"

Eiri glowered from behind his desk. "Hardly. If you behave like children, you will be treated as such. I want all of you to analytically read this story, after which we will discover how much you have gleaned from it. When we have finished, we can discuss moving on to something more stimulating."

After a few minutes of silent reading, mutters could be heard coming from around the class, ranging from "This book is stupid!" to "Why did the kid get lost, anyway? It doesn't make any sense..."

Looking up from his newspaper, Eiri silenced the room with a word. "Read!"

***

"Now, Kuruzawa-san, since you had so much trouble with Soseki-sensei's work yesterday, perhaps you can manage to answer a simple question about today's reading? Why did Mami-chan cross the road?" Eiri sat on the edge of his desk and smiled sadistically at the jock, who now looked as if he wanted to crawl under his desk.

"Because she was...chasingpinkbutterflies,sensei."

"Good. Now, can anyone tell me what Mami-chan's special nickname for her stuffed bunny was?"

Michiru raised her hand defiantly, speaking without waiting for Eiri's acknowledgment of her. "Ano...sensei, this is degrading."

Eiri surveyed the class and smirked. "Exactly."

***

When the noon buzzer rang, Shuichi heaved a huge sigh of relief. The morning had been painful, from start to finish, and he suspected that few would cross Uesugi-san anytime soon. Not including himself, of course. Shuichi had every intention of getting under the man's skin, if even for his own good.

With this in mind, it was first imperative to rescue his songbook, as the concert was tomorrow night and the lyrics for the melody he had put together were largely unfinished. Shuichi waiting until all the other students, save Hiiro, had fled the classroom before boldly approaching the desk where the sensei sat, a mild look of amusement on his face.

"Uesugi-san? Er... sensei?"

Eiri didn't look up from the papers he was arranging. "What is it now, Shindou?"

"My book. I didn't take it with me last night, and I was wondering if, um..." Shuichi trailed off as the man looked up and their eyes locked.

"What?"

Shuichi shifted somewhat uncomfortably and continued on, determined to win this round. "I would like it back, please. I need it to get ready for the concert tomorrow night."

"Why? You need to light a small fire to keep yourself warm until then?"

Before Shuichi could return the blow, their exchange was interrupted from behind.

"Shuichi, don't beg from him. It makes you sound pathetic." Hiiro eyed the teacher with contempt, tugging on Shuichi's sleeve.

"But Hiiro..." he protested, pulling back.

"Let's go. We can make do with what we have." Pushing Shuichi along and out the door, Hiiro cast a smug look back over his shoulder at Eiri. "He's probably enjoying your lyrics too much to let it go, anyway."

Down the hall, Shuichi wrenched himself free from Hiiro's grip. "Hiiro, what am I supposed to do, now?!"

"Deal." Hiiro grinned as they headed toward the lunchroom. "Our final practice is tomorrow afternoon, and I'm sure you can throw together something fabulous by then."

***

A day and a half later, Shuichi was no more convinced that what he had "thrown together" was going to wow the audience than he had been when he'd conceded defeat over the songbook.

"What in hell is wrong with that man?" Shuichi asked aloud, shaking his head as he rummaged around in his closet searching for something to wear to tonight's recital. "He's such a prick, but yet..." he trailed off, debating between his red leopard print boots or his blue sneakers. "It's his eyes, Oliver." He addressed his battered teddy bear while sitting on the floor and struggling with the boots. "There's something about his eyes, something so sad and lonely. His apartment the other night was horrible, no colors at all."

Getting to his feet, Shuichi frowned into the full-length mirror. He saw staring back at him a skinny, short boy, too slender and wide-eyed to be handsome, but too wiry to be "bishounen." His mop of hair was a deep red with lighter shades of red overlying streaks of bleach, his eyes an unusual shade of purple; the silver earrings, overly involved pants, and red leather gloves he wore serving to further complicate his image. "Well, he's got one thing right - my hair *is* kinda funny."

Struck with inspiration, Shuichi ran to the pharmacy down the street to grab supplies before sequestering himself in the second-floor bathroom. After patiently extracting the last traces of red dye from his hair, he completed the bleach job and calculatingly added what was undoubtedly his wildest hair color yet to his head. Satisfied, he moved to his room to find something to wear that would offset his new look.

Slipping out of his clothes, Shuichi settled on basic black. While he would have preferred something a bit more colorful, he knew that his hair would attract enough attention on its own, and besides, sometimes there is something to be said for simplicity. Black bitch boots, tight leather pants with many unnecessary straps and a thin red belt provided the bottom half of his outfit, while he went for something a bit more risque for the top. A sheer short-sleeved black shirt which rode up enough to reveal a wide strip of pale skin served as the base, while black fingerless gloves stretched to his upper arms for accentuation.

All topped off, of course, with his rose-tinted sunglasses and a shock of bright pink hair.

Shuichi grinned at his reflection as added a slightly garish red leopard-print choker to complete the ensemble, and employed all of his willpower to prevent himself from flinging his sister's old red boa over his shoulders to liven things up a bit.

Stomping down the steps to meet Hiiro, he couldn't help but giggle from excitement. Tonight, he thought, was it.

***

"My God, what a circus." Hiiro muttered, clutching his guitar and surveying the chaos backstage. Shuichi and he had arrived at their appointed time and had joined the queue for the stage, nervously listening to act after act perform ahead of them, and watching the various dramas unfold around them. There were last-minute jitters - some resulting in some rather unpleasant bouts of upset stomach - a few tears as performances flopped, a band breakup five minutes before they were due onstage, and a whole score of anxious friends and parents buzzing around psyching up the acts. In sum, it was a madhouse.

"It's crazy back here! Look at that!" Hiiro gestured over to a small fire which had started in the corner where a girl band were slapping on make-up with a trowel. The blaze was quickly stamped out by the music teacher, who was fast approaching a nervous breakdown.

"It's great, ne, Hiiro!" Shuichi squeaked, as he heard his name announced onstage. "Come on, they're waiting for us! Come on, come on!" Reaching out and grabbing Hiiro's arm, Shuichi pushed his way toward the stage. As the crowd came into view, however, he froze. "Hiiro...there's so many people out there..."

"What? Come on, it's our turn!"

"Hiiro, I don't know if I can..." Shuichi swallowed a huge lump in his throat. "I...I..." Suddenly panicking at the thought of hundreds of people listening to the lyrics he had somewhat hastily re-written this morning, he fought back a wave of nausea.

Hiiro looked back at his friend, who, so normally confident, was trembling slightly. "Shu, listen to me. You are great. You heard those other groups, they are nothing compared to us. We can do this! We've earned the right to be on that stage and to have everyone scream as they hear our song! Now let's go!"

Shuichi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counting to three. "You're right Hiiro. We've earned this." Smiling confidently, Shuichi clapped Hiiro on the back and took the stage. The auditorium was filled to overflowing with audience members not only from this but three other schools, and there were local media on hand, adding to the tense yet electric atmosphere.

With the lights in his eyes and the humm of the crowd filling his ears, Shuichi closed his eyes, letting the adrenaline fill his body with an indescribable feeling. He placed his fingers on the keyboard, leaned into the mike, and took a deep breath. "I can do this, I can do this...." he chanted over and over to himself. "I *will* to this..." The whole audience would stomp, scream, and beg for them to never leave this stage...

"Konban wa, minna-san! Thank-you all for coming tonight! We're Shindou Shuichi and Nagano Hiiroshi, and we are...BAD LUCK!" The lights went up even brighter, Shuichi slammed his fingers down into the keys, Hiiro began to play, and the electricity of the moment took them both over. They gyrated behind their instruments, pouring their hearts into the song, existing only within the music.

After a few moments of a high-paced rhythm between the keyboard and guitar, the beat slowed and a melody began to emerge. Taking another deep breath, Shuichi again turned to the mike and began to sing.

// you walked into my life

 cocky and bold, confident and cold

 you looked at me and hated the view

but you didn't know that I looked straight through you//

Hiiro, not missing a beat, strained his ears to listen to Shuichi's powerful voice. These weren't exactly the lyrics they'd discussed yesterday...

//smoke passed through your full lips, filled the air

it danced between you and I, swirled around brilliant hair

as you spoke of genius and professed art

your voice had an edge, had me hooked from the start

harsh words, cool voice

there's a passion inside

burning through golden eyes//

Sitting with the teachers, Eiri shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That incredible idiot!" he thought, shaking his head slightly as he watched Shuichi rock his body to the rhythm. When the boy started to sing, however, something inside Eiri froze. It wasn't even the words which he noticed, but rather the voice - smooth and husky, definitely masculine yet oddly sensual. It was after getting over his initial shock that Eiri noticed *what* the boy was singing.

It was complete crap, of course. The lyrics were horribly rhymed, awkwardly spaced, and utterly corny...yet...yet they were obviously filled with a type of confused emotion, and aimed at a particular person. Him.

His student was singing his heart out in a crappy song in front of the whole school, a crappy song about *him.* "What is this?" Eiri thought, "some sick form of revenge?"

//your room is cold, it feels lifeless and dead

but your energy is hot, alive and red

it pulses and burns, and longs to be free

 it's rich and its rare and it's inspired me

you tear me up and push me away

when all you needed was for me to stay

 the door slams shut but its not through

 you've stolen a piece of my soul...but I've taken a piece of you

you play at perfection but you misunderstand

the truth that I see is more than you planned

 your walls aren't intact, I see them breaking in two

I see how you needed me and how I needed you

despite how you try, your pain can't hide

 I can see the you ....deep inside

 inspire me...//

"Baka..." Eiri whispered, as the crowds around him went wild. Even he couldn't deny it; of all the mediocre acts, Shindou and Nagano had definitely been the best.



***

"What the hell were those lyrics, Shuichi?!" Hiiro shouted once he'd managed to drag Shuichi off the stage and away from the applause.

"What?" Shuichi was still glowing, bouncing excitedly, oblivious to everything.

"Those lyrics! That wasn't the song we rehearsed yesterday." Hiiro shook his head, unsure of whether to be angry or silently grateful. Whatever it was that Shuichi had been singing about, he'd done it with more passion than Hiiro had ever seen, and it was undoubtedly their best attempt ever.

"Well, I thought, you know..." Shuichi blushed, one arm stretched behind his head.

"Never mind. Let's celebrate, ne?" Hiiro laughed, looking forward to a nice, cold beer and some donuts. As they packed up and headed out, however, they were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice from behind.

"Shindou-san! Nagano-san! Might I have a word with you?"

***

Fifteen minutes later, the threesome sat in the coffeehouse across the street from the highschool, Hiiroshi and Schuichi listening enrapt to the plain-looking, neatly pressed business man who had called them out.

"Anyway, I'll be honest, Shindou-san - the lyrics will need some reworking, and you will need a new keyboardist to straighten out the arrangements."

Shuichi's head dropped, as the man continued.

"But, despite that, you've got something; your voice is worth investing in. As is your guitar, Nagano-san. Here's my card: please call my office and set up an appointment where we can discuss contracts and recording options."

"Recording options?!" Shuichi squeaked.

Hiiro broke in, "Hey, these offices are at NG!"

"Yes, that's right. I'm doing scouting for Seguchi Tohma's new company."

"Seguchi Tohma....NG...Nittle Grasper?!" Shuichi froze, paralyzed with excitement.

"Good lord. You've said the magic words...I think we've lost him for awhile." Hiiro shook his head at Sakano-san and laughed at Shuichi's frozen starry-eyed expression.

Sakano laughed as he got up. "Well, have a good evening, both of you. Please do call me Monday morning." With that, he bowed politely and left the disbelieving pair.

"Nittle Grasper." Shuichi croaked. "That man...he works with Seguchi-san...he liked our music..."

Hiiro pushed a cup of espresso under his friend's nose and shoved another donut in his mouth, nodding enthusiastically. "Ummhmm. And it would be nice if you weren't acting like a star struck teenager when we go over to their offices on Monday to sign."

Shuichi snapped out of his stupor. "Sign?! Yatta!!" Striking one fist high in the air, he slammed back the espresso with the other, promptly spraying it all over Hiiro. "Yeech! What is this stuff?"

"Baka."

***

Saturday evening supper at the Shindou household was far from tranquil.

"I won't hear it!" Shuichi's father slammed his hand down on the smooth tabletop. "Your mother and I have let you continue in this band with Hiiro as long as he tutored you, and you kept your grades up. But after your last report card..."

Shuichi countered, desperation creeping into his voice. His parent's *had* to give him their support in this, he couldn't finish school and sign with NG if they didn't help him out. "I *have* tried! I've been studying really hard, honest! I'm just not good at school, that's all."

"Ridiculous! Your sister was on the honor roll, and there's no reason why you can't do the same. Shuichi, it's time we put an end to this nonsense. The only way you are going to make a decent living for yourself is if you get through school and get into a good college."

His mother, a frail-looking woman who was used to deferring to her husband more often than not, broke in gently. "Shuichi, Hiiroshi's mother was speaking to me the other day. He's going to go to school in England next year, so this band will have to stop, anyway...it's for the best, honey..."

Shuichi felt as if he had been splashed in the face with cold water, searching his mother's face for signs of a lie. It couldn't be true, no, Hiiro wouldn't go to school overseas..."England? Tha-that's not true...Hiiro wouldn't leave me! And you don't know what's for the best! This is MY life!"

Seeing how upset Shuichi was becoming, she tried a different tactic. "Just think: you'll have so much more time to study, and to maybe finally get a girlfriend."

Shuichi's shoulders slumped as he looked downward into his miso. "Who says I want a girlfriend, anyway..." he mumbled, shoving a spoonful of the now cold soup in his mouth.

"Of course you want a girlfriend!" Shuichi's father broke in, growing visibly more upset. "Shuichi, this is pointless. This conversation is ending right now. Go to your room and study."

"You've had me stuck in this house studying all day! I want to go see Hiiro so we can talk this over...besides, it's Saturday night!"

"You've had plenty of free Saturday nights, and look where they've gotten you. You may see Nagano-san in school on Monday. Now, go!" Shuichi stood up and stomped up the steps to his room. When his father spoke like that, he wasn't to be disobeyed.

Not to his face, anyway.

Grabbing his knapsack and throwing in Oliver and as many clothes as it would hold, Shuichi glanced around his room and nodded, resolve firm.

He pushed open the window in his bedroom window, and made his way down an obliging tree, muttering to himself, "I'm eighteen years old and not under any obligation to them or anyone other than myself. I'll just have to go find someplace else to stay." As he landed on the ground and headed out he marched confidently along the street.

"How hard could it be? I've got lots of friends, right?"

***

The open laptop cast a bluish glow throughout the dark room, giving a ghostly appearance to it's sole occupant, who sat limply behind the desk. Eiri leaned back in his leather chair, head flopped backward and arms falling limp at his sides, a cigarette burning in his left hand and another sticking up out of his mouth. He felt completely and totally drained of energy, having spent a solid ten hours in front of his computer, and was in bad need of both a nicotine fix and a shower.

It wasn't Eiri's normal habit to go on writing binges such as this; in fact, this was the first time he'd opened his novel in longer than he could remember. It was odd how it happened, that after that pathetic recital he'd inexplicably felt compelled to write. Against all understanding, his story had begun to take shape through the rounds of beer and packs of cigarettes, as the classical music poured out of his stereo he could see the characters, perhaps for the first time, emerging and lending their form to the plot he was envisioning.

He had stopped writing only after his train of thought kept getting interrupted by echos of last night's concert running through his head.

//...it's rich and its rare and it's inspired me...//

It was after hearing Shuichi sing that crap for the fiftieth time that he had noticed that he'd been slipping and typing "him" instead of "her" in reference to the love interest of the male protagonist. Frowning slightly, he had quickly hit the backspace button and tried to banish the image of pink hair and tight black leather pants which crept into his mind. "I must be going insane..." he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm not into guys, especially not...well, not ones like *that*"

He had grabbed the cigarettes and was enjoying a much-needed break when he was roused out of his stupor by the buzzing of the doorbell, the first contact he'd had with the outside world since the night before. Butting out both his cigarettes, he pushed his glasses up his nose and padded across the cold floor to the intercom.

"Yes?" He had a sinking suspicion he knew whose voice would be on the other end of the com.

"Uesugi-san? May I please come up?" Bingo. Eiri groaned. "Why me?" He thought, angrily pressing the button again.

"No. Go home." He didn't, however, disconnect the line.

"I can't. Please, Uesugi-san." The boy's voice sounded slightly desperate.

"Go away." Eiri cut off the connection and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "What's he playing at? He can't just keep showing up here night after night..."

Again, the buzzer cut through the silence.

Eiri sighed, and resignedly, hitting the button. "What do you want, Shindou?"

"Can I stay here, tonight?"

Silence.

"I'm not leaving...I don't have anywhere else to go."

Eiri found his voice, and managed, "It's not my problem."

"You're my sensei! Please..." Now there was a definite wobble in the boy's voice, and Eiri could picture him actually being stubborn enough to spend the night curled up in the lobby, sobbing himself to sleep.

"Come up, baka."

Eiri buzzed the boy through and looked around his empty apartment. "I suppose this means I'll have to make tea again."

***

Shuichi had scrambled up the steps, unable to believe that the man had actually conceded to letting him stay. He had wandered the streets for awhile, and considered his options: he could either swallow his pride and crawl back to his parent's house, or he could crash at Hiiro's. Neither were really acceptable, considering that he had only left his parent's house that evening, and as a matter of principle, his snit against them couldn't finish on the same night it had started. As for Hiiro, he knew that his mother would only get involved and complicate things, on top of which, he wasn't looking forward to consulting his friend on the whole studying overseas issue.

So, his options exhausted, here he now sat, somewhat deflated, on the black couch with the now-familiar horrible tea in his hands, venting all his rage at his rather unwilling host. "They just don't understand!" he whined, continuing his ten-minute long tirade.

"What is it that they are supposed to be understanding?" Eiri paced the room calmly, sucking on a beer and trying not to focus too closely on his student.

Shuichi kept rattling on, oblivious to the only slightly attentive ear he was receiving. "That this is more than just dumb music! It's ME...they don't understand me...they want me to get into college, get a boring job, find a wife..."

"That sounds sensible." *It also sounds familar....* Eiri added silently, stopping pacing and looking down at the boy.

"It's not what I want. I don't want sensible, I want to be happy...and I don't want a girlfriend."

"No? What do you want, then?"

"..." Shuichi looked down into his teacup, feeling his cheeks grow hot. In truth, he didn't know exactly what he wanted, but he knew that the cookie cutter life envisioned by his parents, wife included, wasn't it.

"Typical. You know, at your age you ought to be thinking more seriously about your future." Eiri settled himself down in the armchair opposite the couch and crossed his legs, looking more closely at Shuichi.

"You sound like my father!" the boy protested, tossing a pillow at the man.

Eiri snorted, arching one eyebrow. "I'm 25, not 45."

Their eyes met, and the distance between them seemed much shorter. Shuichi shifted uncomfortably and hoped that his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. As the silence stretched, he said the first thing that popped into his head. "So, um, a teacher? Is that what you always wanted to be?"

"No."

"Well...you must be pretty smart, anyway. What did you do after high school?" Now that it seemed that the topic had been opened, Shuichi was genuinely curious to find out more about Eiri, and eager to get off the subject of girlfriends.

"I lived with my family in Kyoto and took correspondence studies. I finished last year." Eiri had no idea why he was airing out his life to this boy, but it felt safe to continue, so he did. "I studied literature and languages, and political economy, and helped my father tend to the temple and take care of my younger siblings."

"Woah...classes for seven years? You must like to study!"

"Are you quite finished pummeling me with questions? You're giving me a headache."

"Sorry..." Again, a silence fell, and Shuichi decided that that was about as much as he was going to get out of Eiri about his past. He got up off the couch and walked over to the window, mostly so that his back would be to the other man, and nervously dared to ask what was on the tip of his tongue since he arrived.

"So, what did you think of the concert? Did I win? Or will you be wanting that essay?"

Eiri restrained a smile, wondering if the boy even knew how obvious, though horrible, his lyrics were. "Hn. I can't believe you actually sang that crap song in front of all those people. You've really got no talent, you know." As he spoke, he quietly rose and crossed the room.

Spinning around, Shuichi found himself looking up into Eiri's piercing golden eyes. "Aa...I...I thought that, well..."

Later, Eiri wouldn't be able to say exactly what it was which made him act next. He only saw those wide purple eyes fill with hurt and anger, the innocent-looking heart-shaped face framed by pink hair and marked with determination, and was drawn toward it by a force beyond his own control. Reaching down, he cupped Shuichi's face with his right hand, tipping the boy's stubborn chin upward. The anger in the boy's eyes was quickly replaced by confusion as Eiri placed one of left hand on Shuichi's back, pulling him in close. Within a flash of an instant, the blond man sealed their lips together.

It was rough and hard, Eiri pouring his confusion and irritation into the kiss. His lips parted and tongue forced its way inside Shuichi's mouth, running over teeth and colliding violently with the boy's tongue. Shuichi let out a soft cry and made attempts at gasping for air, but only succeeded in deepening the kiss which his partner wasn't intent on ending anytime soon. Finally, the boy stopped his struggling and reached up behind Eiri's back, twining his fingers in the messy golden hair, fervently meeting the man's tongue with his own and grinding his hips up into Eiri's.

When Eiri felt Shuichi respond to the kiss, he moaned as the last traces of reason left him. There was nothing in the world outside this moment, outside of soft lips firmly pressed to his own and the person wrapped in his arms. But when he felt his own hardness coming in contact with Shuichi's, something inside of him snapped.

A boy. A student. He couldn't reconcile himself to which was worse, but taken together, it was impossible. He wrenched his mouth away from Shuichi's and pushed the boy away, averting his eyes. "Get out."

"What?!" Shuichi yelped, confused beyond imagining. He'd been first insulted, then given his first kiss a scant moment later by quite possibly the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, and then ordered out the door?

"Get. Out. NOW." Eiri spoke low, his voice sounding deadly.

"Hmph! You'll have to toss me over the balcony, because there's no way I'm walking out that door." Shuichi stood firmly planted in front of Eiri, not planning on going anywhere.

Eiri looked back into the boy's eyes, sounding somewhat sad. "You want me that much, Shuichi?"

"As much as you want me."

"I don't want you."

"Really? Then what's this?" Shuichi reached out and pressed his hand flat against the hard bulge in the man's pants. Eiri growled low in his throat and pushed Shuichi's hand away.

"That has nothing to do with you."

"I'd say it has everything to do with me! I'm not leaving, Eiri! You want me, you need me, and you are too scared to admit it! Well, I'm not!" Shuichi's hand was on his chest, his eyes wide and watery.

"Baka." Eiri sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head and slowly moving in for another kiss.

~~~`~,~@