It was a chilly, windy night. Young romance novelist Yuki Eiri was having something that no writer would ever want when their dateline was just two days away – a writer's block. He had been sitting in front of his lousy laptop for more than eight hours; and the Microsoft Word document was still blank. Damn it!

Yuki walked towards his small fridge in the corner of his small apartment – which was actually just a small square room which included a super small square toilet. The cheap table on where his laptop was had to be pushed aside at night to make room for his futon. But he rarely moved the table and had not seen his futon for quite some time; he wakes up every morning these days with an aching neck from sleeping on the hard table.

Looking around in the refrigerator, he then reached out for the last can of beer which was already opened. It was also empty. Urgh! Who the hell put it in there! Of course, the answer to that question was pretty obvious; he lived alone, he had no family, and nobody has ever entered his home since he moved in nearly one year ago.

Frustrated, poor Yuki Eiri decided to take a break by taking a stroll in the park. It was quite late and there should not be anyone around. Letting the wind blow through his soft blond hair, Yuki pondered on different ideas for the last chapter of his third novel. He had typed a few paragraphs; but he kept changing his mind and erasing and rewriting over and over again. He HAD to make it perfect; the money he earned from his first and second novel barely even paid for the rent of that crappy apartment every month. If his third novel could sell, he would be able to live more comfortably.

Yuki slipped his hand into the right pocket of his coat and took out a piece of paper that looked as if it had been folded and unfolded and refolded again for many, many times. It was his scribbles for his last chapter which he had jotted down while he was on his, ehem, 'date', with Miss Porcelaina in the lavatory.

Without warning, a sudden gust of wind blew the paper away from Yuki. "Hey!" Then he jogged to chase the flying paper; only to find it caught by another person not too far away. It was a man from the looks of it… with pink hair? Yuki walked towards the other person. As he got nearer he realized that the person was more a teenager than a man.

"Uh, hello. The paper you're holding is mine," Yuki said to the boy when he got there. The boy looked at him from top to toe. And then the teen's violet eyes (which strucked Yuki as one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen) went to read what was on the paper. Our blond writer kept silent as he in turn inspected the other person.

I never thought it possible for anyone to have eyes the colour of his. The boy was quite small in build but he had a good looking and… doll-like face. He wore a pair of three quarter light brown pants with a bright orange windbreaker. On other people, Yuki would have thought that the orange top would make them look ridiculous, especially if they had shocking pink hair. But this youth could probably, somehow, get away with any kind of clothing. Even women clothes. Eew, where did that come from? But Yuki could not deny the fact that this boy in front of him was beautiful. So perfect. And he was smoking. Smoking? "Hey, aren't you a little too young to have cigarettes sticking out of your mouth?"

The teenager ignored Yuki and replied with another question, "Did you write this?"

Yuki Eiri was caught off guard. "Uh, yeah… I'm a writer. It's for my newest novel."

"You should quit. You have zero talent," the boy said simply. His face did not show any emotion.

WHAT? "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You have ZERO talent," the pink haired boy said again, as if it was suppose to be one of the most well known facts in the whole wide world.

"Who the hell are-" before Yuki could finish his sentence, he felt the world spin, and spin, and spin, and spin… zero talent… zero talent… zero talent… zero… zero… zero… zerooooooooooooooooo…

"Oh shit!" Famous, young and handsome writer Eiri Yuki jolted out of sleep. He had fallen into slumber in front of his Sony Vaio laptop; the screen showing a blank Microsoft Word document. He took a tissue and wiped the sweat from his forehead. What the hell happened? He tried hard to remember what it was that he had been dreaming about, or better, what nightmare had he been having? But by then, every trace of the dream had gone away. Damn it, I need some fresh air.

So Yuki left his exclusive, stylish yet simple (not to mention expensive) apartment for a walk. He checked his watch; it was 11.24 p.m. God… I need to clear my mind. Yuki walked in the direction of the public park. He liked this place at night because there was no one around and it would be quiet and calm. Also there would be no annoying girl fans and old ladies trying to do uncivilized things to him.

Slowly walking through the park, Yuki took a box of cigarettes out from the right pocket of his coat. There was only one more left. I better buy a few more cartons tomorrow. He was about to light his cigarette when his gaze was caught by a flying piece of tissue, or maybe paper that was coming the writer's way.

"Hey!" Yuki heard someone cry.

He easily caught the piece of paper in his right hand. And then he looked ahead for the source of the voice. It was a man… with pink hair? Yuki read what was written on the paper while the man, no, boy as the person got nearer, jogged towards him.

Yuki waited patiently; his face betraying no emotion even though for no reason his heart was starting to beat faster and faster. It suddenly seemed familiar to him; everything that was happening seemed like they had happened before. Deja-vu?

Yuki Eiri smirked at the piece of paper he was still holding. Oh, this is gonna be fun...