Rating: PG-13
Chapter: 4?
Pairings: Shinji/Kamio, Mizuki/Yuuta, more in future
Summary: Success hasn't come to Shinji and Kamio until they get a chance to play at the prestigious Atobe Keigo's concert. However, with many obstacles blocking their way, can they make it to the top? AU, shounen-ai, bandfic
Word Count For Chapter: 4,909
AN: Ah, chapter four! I have some problems with this, but I like it the best so far. I love Sengoku. :3 Plus, I'm having the hardest time not just making this all out ShinjixKamio smut. XD BUT I WILL PERSERVERE! Or something like that. In other words, read and enjoy! If you don't enjoy, tell me, and I will apologize profusely.
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"Turn over." Shinji's voice was commanding, pulling Kamio out his sleep-induced haze long enough for him to flip half-heartedly onto his stomach, curling his toes into the sheets. His throat ached like hell- he could taste blood coming into his mouth, kept swallowing it back again and again. He supressed a cough, making a weird gurgling noise instead. He sniffled into a pillow, shoving his face in it.
"It hurts, Shinji."
Shinji swept the blankets down to Kamio's waist and gently tugged the other's shirt up over tense shoulders. He swept his palms firmly down and back up the smooth skin of Kamio's back, digging his fingers into muscle, feeling the stress there. Kamio was quivering with the effort to supress the coughs that had been wracking his body, and Shinji dropped a quick kiss on his shoulder blade, letting his lips linger on the over-warm skin, the barest flicker of tongue. "Yeah. I'll bet it does hurt. You woke me up coughing. Again." He murmured. "How many times have I told you to take that medicine? To take it easy? I shouldn't be surprised that this happened. Should you drink some water? Maybe I'll make some tea. Gakuto brought some over, didn't he? I'll go get some..." Shinji let a foot drop from the bed, all intent of making Kamio tea.
Kamio's hand shot out, awkwardly snaring Shinji's wrist and giving a pull, directing Shinji to him, over him. "It... it feels better when you touch me, you know? When I drink it just burns worse- like I'm drinking sandpaper, it feels. Could you..." Kamio sounded embarassed, and Shinji smiled to himself and rubbed a cirlce in the small of Kamio's back, using his fingernails lightly to make the other boy's back arch. Kamio seemed to find his voice again, after a wide yawn. "Could you sleep closer to me? On me? It's warmer that way, and I know I don't cough as much..." Kamio trailed off and turned his head back into the pillow.
It was all Shinji could do then not to tug Kamio up and kiss him senseless. He blinked, slowly, heavily, before nodding to himself and slipping back under the covers. With gentle fingers he pulled Kamio's shirt down again, and he let himself curl against Kamio's back, pillowing his head under his shoulderblades and tugging an arm over his waist. This was a first- they were bound to wake up in the mornings on each other, tangled with each other, it was a given, almost. But never before had they talked about it. It was a breach of the smoky conduct that constituted their friendship- it tempted Shinji to cross the lines he'd been dying to cross for years. Tempted him to pull Kamio on top of him, to kiss his pale cheeks, lips, rub his nose in his hair. But he'd settle for this.
"Can't believe we made it, you know?" Kamio was talking again, his words rumbling through his back, against Shinji's face. "Yeah. Tomorrow... I wonder what we'll do. What that Atobe guy has in store for us. Huh, Shinji?" He turned his head, straining to see Shinji through the dark over his shoulder.
Shinji closed his eyes. "I guess he'll want to meet us. I'd want to meet the people playing for me. To see if they're good enough, presentable. I set the alarm clock. We should get to sleep. You need rest." He felt rather than heard Kamio's "goodnight", felt the boy's muscles and skin lose tension as he fell asleep.
Shinji stayed up long after, thinking.
-
Kamio walked from the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth. "Oi, Shinji." He called, running his fingers through wet, mahogany hair, tugging it into place over his eye. He padded over to to bed, where Shinji was curled around a pillow. He stroked a finger across Shinji's brow, smiling to himself as the boy leaned into his touch, murmuring something in his sleep. He leaned closer to Shinji, lips hovering over his ear, hair dripping water onto his face. "Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up, we've got an hour to get ready."
Shinji rolled over slightly, twisting on his side in order to face up at Kamio, who had not moved. "Mn, you're dripping on me," He said slowly, and reached a hand up to tangle in Kamio's hair. He blinked a few times and Kamio sat down on the bed, pillowing his chin on Shinji's collarbone, his nose brushing the boy's chin. Shinji gave him a sleepy, lidded look. "S'your throat better?"
Kamio smiled. "Much." They rested like that, half huddled into each other for a few minutes. Finally, Shinji's chest gave a heave as he sighed, hands reaching up to push Kamio off of him. "M'kay. I'm getting in the shower now. I wonder what to wear. Didn't Gakuto drop some clothes off when he stopped over last night? I'll let you put something together for me." He sat up, putting his feet to the hardwood floor. He looked at Kamio. "Do we have any clean towels?"
Kamio laughed at him and plugged a blowdryer into the wall, sitting crosslegged on the floor. "Do we really have any towels?"
'True,' Shinji thought to himself. Like the foolish teenagers they were, they had lacked the common sense to buy much of the essentials needed to live an independant life- not like they could really bring anything from home, though. Shinji gave a brief thought as to what had become of all of his former possesions before blocking that train of thought. Thinking about that time would get him nowhere. He walked into the bathroom, still tucked into a bundle of blankets. He hoped Kamio hadn't used all the hot water.
-
By the time Shinji got out of the shower (there had been plenty of hot water, enough to make him wonder how long of a shower Kamio himself had taken) there was a small pile of clothes stacked outside the bathroom door. He leaned down to grab them, noticing the towel folded next to them, and took that too. Setting the clothes onto the sink, he noticed the small white pill nestled on top of a black t-shirt, sticking out starkly against the dark fabric. He swallowed, took a calming breath, and downed it dry, trying not to think about it. Shreds of humiliation were still remnant from the previous morning- he never wanted to put Kamio through that ever again.
After drying himself off with Kamio's slightly damp towel, Shinji shook out the clothes, inspecting them. A tight, black t-shirt, cut short and embossed with a glittery rainbow motif. The pants were ridiculous- bright pink cargo pants. He gave a sniff as he pulled on the clothes, feeling inordinately stupid about them. "Dumb ass Gakuto," He muttered to himself, gazing into their small, dingy mirror as he pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail, letting half of it fall in his face. "If I didn't know any better I would swear he out to get me. Giving us these dumb clothes. Like I want to wear his cast offs in the first place...it's not like we have money, so it's not like I can outright complain..."
Kamio gave an amused snort from the doorway. "What are you yammering on about now?" He joined Shinji at the mirror, looking critically at himself, occasionally pulling a lock of hair into place. "It's two-forty. I wonder if we should wait by the curb, or what?" He looked speculatively at Shinji through the mirror, squinting a bit. "I never noticed how long your hair was getting. I remember when it was only down to here." He touched Shinji's jaw.
Shinji grumbled, rubbing some foundation onto a pimple above his eyebrow. "That was a long time ago. I think that was even before we played together...back in grade school. Back then your hair looked the same as it does now..." He gave Kamio an appraising look, tilting his head onto the other boy's shoulder. "Where'd you get the glasses? You never wore them before. They don't look bad, I mean. They kind of accent your face." He reached up, tapping at them with a black-painted fingernail. "Ah. There's no glass in them."
Kamio nudged Shinji off of him, bumping his hip against the other's affectionately. He leaned forward, pulling his eyelid down and sweeping some eyeliner across it. He tossed it to Shinji and walked from the bathroom. "They were Oshitari's. The glasses. Gakuto tried them on and didn't like them, so he brought them over." He sat on the edge of their unmade bed with a sour look. "God, that kid's annoying, but at least he has good fashion sense."
Shinji had to agree with Kamio on that one, eyeing the other boy as he slid some dark makeup over his eyes. Kamio was wearing a bright green shirt, fitted so that it slid over his hipbones, showing his pale skin and small black tattoo. Shinji eyed the shamrock adorning the tight fabric, the design clinging to the bottom of Kamio's shirt. Low black pants showed the tiniest sliver of red elastic, and Shinji smiled to himself. Kamio was wearing his lucky red underwear today. He remembered buying them for Kamio as a joke once, but Kamio taking it as seriously as he took every gift from Shinji.
Shinji opened his mouth, but was cut off by knocking on the door. Kamio froze, tugging down his shirt, meeting Shinji's eyes.
"Hello? Hellooo? Lucky Sengoku here! I'm here to pick you up!" Another knock. "I hope you're in there!"
Shinji's eye twitched. Kamio shot up from the bed, dashing towards the door. His sneakers skid and he just barely kept himself from hitting the wall by grabbing at the handle, swinging the door open with an unmanly squeak. "Hello," he managed, gathering himself up, trying to look presentable. He looked up at the figure in the doorway and was met with a hand shoved in his face, reaching out. He shook it awkwardly.
"Good afternoon! I'm Sengoku!" He shook Kamio's hand vigorously, grinning widely. He shook a shock of orange hair from his eyes, peering at Kamio. "Hey!" He pointed at a shamrock near Kamio's hip, poking at his shirt intrusively. "Clovers are lucky, you know?"
Shinji spoke up, stepping out from behind Kamio. He jerked Kamio away from the happy man, glaring at him sharply. "Are you the guy Atobe sent?" He said humorlessly, not letting go of Kamio's shoulders. "Because you sure are getting personal, fast. I don't like you already. It's not even three yet. We are perfectly capable of being on time, you know. We could have met you outside. This is rather rude." Kamio winced to himself, reaching back to smooth a subtle hand against Shinji's thigh.
Sengoku held out his hands in a placating manner. "Ah, sorry, sorry! I was just kind of excited about meeting you guys. Jiroh had been going on about you... Though Jiroh goes on about a lot..." He touched a finger to his chin, his green eyes practically sparkling as they fell upon Kamio. Shinji could feel the hair on the back of his necks standing on end. "And you are?"
Kamio moved past the doorway, pulling Shinji with him into the hallway. "I'm Kamio Akira, and this is my...this is Shinji. Shinji Ibu." He locked the door with a bit of a blush, sending a pleasant trill up Shinji's spine. He had no time to speculate on it, however, as the two found themselves being tugged towards the stairwell, carted by a very energetic Sengoku.
"Well, glad to meet you! I'm Mr. Keigo's errand boy, you can say. Kind of an opportune job when I was down on my luck, I might add. Can't complain! Pay's good, plus I get to meet plenty of attractive people along the way." Shinji seriously felt an urge to push Sengoku down the stairs but at the same time couldn't help but like the redhead on some basic level.
They exited out of the building and into the cold air, Kamio and Shinji being towed along by Sengoku, who was rattling on to them about how lucky he was to have landed such a cool job, all the while ignoring the death glare Shinji was levering at his back. "Ah, and there's my car!" He let go of them and waved his hand in the general vicinity of the shiny black sports car parked across the street from them. As if an afterthought, he added, "Why aren't you two wearing coats? It's cold out! Look, it's snowing..." He caught a snowflake on his tongue.
Shinji gave him a dark look. "We were a bit distracted by you. You should have had the common decency to let us get our things together instead of barging in and dragging us out. I suppose it never crossed your mind to quit your pawing and let us dress properly."
Kamio gave Shinji a sharp look, hissing, "C'mon, Shinji. Be nice. He hasn't done anything wrong."
Sengoku either was very selective in what he heard or was rather deaf, as he showed no signs of hearing anything Shinji had said. Instead he opened the driver's side door, sliding into the seat of the car. He slapped at the glove compartment, leaning over the shift and grabbing something from the box. "Here, it may not be much, but I figure it's better than nothing." He tossed something at them; Kamio caught it at the last second before it fell in the snowy street.
"A scarf?" He pulled it out, revealing its length. Plenty long for two people. He took no time in looping it loosely around his and Shinji's necks, drawing his friend closer. He folded his pinky finger around Shinji's, murmuring, "You okay?"
Shinji looked blankly at the car door being opened for them by Sengoku, who was fussing over getting on gloves. "Yeah. I don't like him, though. He likes you, you know. Thinks you're cute."
Kamio sighed and pulled Shinji forcibly into the car, pushing him onto the cold leather of the middle seat, following him with a wince. The cold pierced right through his t-shirt and jeans, soaked his skin and made the hair on his arms stand on end. He moved closer to Shinji, thigh pressing against thigh, shoulder buried between the car seat and Shinji's arm. The car dipped as Sengoku shut their door and sat in the driver's seat, bright hair sticking above the car seat. Shinji rubbed Kamio's hands between his own and rubbed his ankle against the other boy's, breathing out white misted air.
Sengoku started the car. "Brrr." He said, adjusting the rearview mirror to glance back at them. "Hey, we have to make a stop on the way, okay? Atobe wants me to pick up that Fuji guy, and he lives on the other side of town. Make yourselves comfy! In the meanwhile, I'll blast the heat." He paused, as if thinking. "You guys hungry? I was going to stop for some coffee, wouldn't mind at all if you wanted somethin' from the cafe."
Kamio caught Shinji's eye, grinning. Both of their stomachs ached from hunger, though neither wanted to bring it up. "That would be wonderful. But... we don't have any money on us..." He trailed off, uncertainly. They had begun driving, passing up familiar buildings as Sengoku maneuvered the car between spots of traffic. He didn't want to admit that they truly didn't have money, and prayed Sengoku wouldn't delve into the topic.
Sengoku laughed, just barely making it past a red light. "Ah, don't worry about it. I've got plenty, my treat, okay?" He slowed down, swerving into a parking spot on the side of a street. "You guys wait out here. I won't be long." He jogged towards a small shop, ducking into the door with a wave.
Kamio let his head fall onto Shinji's shoulder, nudging his friend's neck with his forehead. "Don't go cold on me just because of him, Shinji. It's not like people don't look at you like that. I don't get mad." He reasoned, shoving his hands between his thighs, warming them. Shinji leaned his head against Kamio's, shifting a bit as the frames of the faux glasses dug into his cheek.
"I'm not mad. I just don't want... Sometimes I think you'll find someone, and this will be over." Whatever this is, Shinji thought. "I just... I know I'm being selfish. You should have whoever you want. I shouldn't hold you back, but I can't help it." Shinji was murmuring now, half aware of what he was saying. He was concentrating on the way Kamio's hair felt against his face, how his lips shone a bit, as if he'd been biting them. Without thinking, Shinji lifted a hand, touching a soft finger to Kamio's lips, rubbing.
A knock on the window revealed a frazzled-looking Sengoku, wielding a cup of coffee and a small bag. "I've locked myself out!" He shouted, smiling sheepishly. Kamio jerked forward, wedging a hand past the driver's seat and window to unlock Sengoku's door. Breathing hard, he sat back as Sengoku all but dived into the warmth of the car, shoving his coffee into a cup holder and thrusting the bag at them. "Buttered croissants, fresh from the oven, and some cookies. Thought they looked good."
Shinji all but snatched the bag from him, the warm smell of food wafting into the backseat. "Thank you." He said, lacking any true gratitude. He sat back as they began driving again, opening the bag and grabbing a croissant before passing it to Kamio. Sengoku turned the radio on, something annoyingly upbeat and modern, and hummed loudly to it. Kamio chuckled.
A few minutes later, the car stopped once again, this time haphazardly double-parked behind a large moving van, giving the vehicle a wide berth. A man was loading a box into it, wavy black hair peeking out from under a purple pom-pom hat, looking rather ridiculous in a large, fur-lined violet coat. He stopped to look at them before huddling into his coat and walking towards a building, steps fast. Sengoku turned and looked at them. "Wanna go in with me or stay out here? We're getting the other guy."
Kamio looked up, a bit of croissant hanging from his mouth. "Er, I guess we'll stay out here. No use in going out there before we have to," He said, waving outside where it had begun to snow heavily. Sengoku nodded and rushed towards the building, slamming his door behind him. Shinji pressed the croissant into Kamio's mouth, brushing a crumb from his chin. Kamio smiled at him and started on a cookie.
-
"Yuuta. I'm going to ask you one more time. Don't leave." Fuji sat on top of the box Yuuta was going for next, folding his legs over one another calmly, though his voice was tinged with desperation. Yuuta looked at him in exasperation.
"Aniki, don't start this again. We've been through this. I'm moving in with Mizuki. Today. It's been decided." He gently pried Fuji up from the box, then off of his arm where he had wound himself. He leaned down, looking around and noting with satisfaction that it was the last box.
A voice came from the doorway. "Yuuta, do you need any help with that?" Yuuta turned and smiled, heedless of the chilling glare Fuji was giving him. Mizuki was standing in front of him, stepping forward to help Yuuta with his load, purple pom-poms smacking his head with each step.
Fuji cut in, a deep frown on his face. "No need for that, Yuuta can easily take care of that himself. In fact, Mizi...Miza..."
"Mizuki!" Yuuta hissed.
"Yes, Mizuki. Thank you, Yuuta. But I'm afraid there are no more boxes, thus no more need for you to be in my apartment. Get out."
"Aniki!"
Fuji opened the apartment door, his face cold. "Nice seeing you."
"Er, are you Fuji?" Sengoku said awkwardly, his hand poised to knock. He had the strange feeling he had walked in on a very tense situation. Three pairs of eyes stared at him. He smiled disarmingly.
Fuji looked him up and down, slowly. "Yes. Are you Atobe's errand boy?"
Sengoku shuffled. "You could say that. I'm here to pick you up. To take you to Atobe." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable.
Fuji grabbed a coat from a nearby rack, pausing to shoot an angry look in Mizuki's direction, and a slightly less unhappy one at Yuuta. "You two. Out. Yuuta, call me when you're... moved in. Let me know you're okay. Remember, you can always come home." He shoved an arm into the coat, then another, movements fast and incensed.
Sengoku felt quite helpless. "I'm Sengoku," He offered from his spot at the apartment doorway. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, tossing hair from his eyes as he observed the scene before him. It looked to him as if he had entered into quite the domestic struggle. Everyone in the room looked ready to jump at each other's throats. His eyes narrowed. More, Fuji looked ready to jump at everyone's throats, and vice versa. He moved to the side as two of the guys shuffled out, leaving Fuji staring at him.
"Nice to meet you," He said pleasantly, stepping forward to offer a hand to Sengoku. Sengoku took it happily; glad to shake off the hostile atmosphere. Fuji looked at him curiously from under long eyelashes, pink lips curved into a strange smile. Sengoku let go of his hand, grinning back.
"The other guys are waiting in the car," He explained, beginning to walk down the stairs. "Nice bunch. A bit touchy." He swung around the banister at the bottom and looked up at Fuji, whose mind seemed to be elsewhere. He noticed that at least Fuji had the good sense to wear a coat. Good thing, he was out of scarves. Holding the door open, he braced himself as a mixture of sleet and cold hit him. He and Fuji made their way to the car in a strange sort of silence, Fuji staring distantly at the sidewalk. He touched Fuji's arm, "Here's the car." He didn't think Fuji would have noticed otherwise.
Fuji recognized Shinji and Kamio right away from the auditions, their bright hair and sultry faces unmistakable. He squeezed into the backseat, next to Shinji, shrunk away as if to give him more room. "Hello," He said softly, waving his hand in greeting. His fingers brushed against Shinji's thigh as he buckled himself in, and he felt the other boy twitch. He blinked, but said nothing.
"Hello." Kamio said, leaning past Shinji to look at him, smiling uneasily. Fuji was dressed immaculately compared to them- a nice black coat, dress shirt, and slacks versus their t-shirt and jeans. His light brown hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and he smelled very pleasantly of light cologne. Kamio couldn't even remember the last time they had cologne. He was jerked back into the seat as Sengoku began to drive, once again cranking his music. Fuji began to hum along.
It was a slightly more uncomfortable ride than before, with an additional person crammed into the rather small backseat. Shinji wondered why the hell Fuji couldn't have opted for the passenger's seat in front as Fuji leaned heavily against him on a particularly sharp right turn, and didn't move away afterwards. He shut his eyes, ignoring the feel of Fuji's warmth, the fabric of his coat sliding against his arm, the heady smell of his hair as it drifted against his cheek. He fingered at the pocket of Kamio's pants, a strange calming gesture. Kamio reached down and gripped his hand, kneading it between his fingers. Fuji's breath was ghosting against his neck. Shinji shifted closer to Kamio. Fuji followed subtly, his side pressing lightly into Shinji's tense arm.
Shinji was about to say something when the car made an abrupt stop, throwing them all forward. Sengoku looked back apologetically. "Ah, we're here," He explained, letting them gather themselves together. Fuji stepped neatly from the car, Shinji and Kamio getting out from the other side. They instantly curled against each other against the cold, glancing around. This part of town was unfamiliar, buildings towering towards the bleak sky above. Sengoku, a cheery looking figure in the rather depressing scene of snow and concrete, ushered them towards a particularly tall building, butting a door open with his hip. Inside a large, gilded lobby was visible, huge and empty. Shinji and Kamio rushed into it, shivering, as Fuji followed them in, looking around.
A lone desk sat in the center of the lobby, which Sengoku rushed towards, leaving his charges at the door. "Hey!" He shouted, waving at the figure at the desk, a weary looking older woman, "Hey, we're here to see Atobe."
The woman looked up at him from her computer, gazing at him a long-suffering manner, "As if you don't know your way, Mr. Sengoku. Tenth floor, down the hall, four doors to your right." She returned to her work, typing furiously away. "You just like to hear yourself talk."
Sengoku laughed, looking at the group by the door over his shoulder, "Alright then, follow me. You heard the woman!" They silently followed him, a bit overwhelmed by the situation. They were really there, really about to meet Atobe. This was rather unbelievable. The elevator was as gilded and spacious as the lobby, with a plush red couch pushed opposite the door. Shinji sat down on it, pulling Kamio down with him, almost on top of him. Fuji observed this with something akin to silent amusement, as Sengoku took it as his job to press the buttons. They elevator trip was full of the same anxious silence as the car ride- anticipatory, almost.
Finally, the elevator stopped, and they stepped out into a long hall. Every so often a door was placed on either side, and judging by the spacing of them, the rooms within were sure to be huge. Kamio felt distinctly out of place, almost craving the small comfort of their apartment compared to this rather lonely building. Sengoku motioned forward, "Almost there, guys." They followed him a rather long way down the hall, where they paused before a glass door, blinds behind it pulled shut though the door was cracked open. Sengoku reached for it-
"Dammit! You can't do this, Atobe-" A man's voice, loud and upset, filtered out into the hallway. Sengoku let his hand drop, eyes wide.
Atobe's voice, distinct and haughty responded, "I'm quite entitled to make these kinds of decisions. Have you taken time to read your contract? I can do this."
"But it's a mistake, I swear. Just let me find him okay? Give me a few days; I just need to talk to him!"
"I don't have a few days. It's not my fault your band mate decided to cancel his contract. Yours is a lost case, I'm afraid." Slightly less cold, he said a bit more softly, "If you happen to mend things with him, come back to see me. Until then, there is nothing I can do."
"Bullshit! You could have talked to him, you could have stopped him! I don't know where he is! I can't fix this!"
"You're free to leave, Mr. Shishido. I don't appreciate your foul language. A deal is a deal."
"But-" The man spluttered, apparently torn between panicking and biting Atobe's head off. "I'll be back later. You can damn bet on it." Footsteps came swiftly towards the door; the door began to swing open-
"Oh, and Shishido? Mr. Ootori informed me that he'd be staying at a nearby hotel. If you wanted to track him down and talk to him, granted he'd be less than...willing, considering your situation."
Sengoku and the others sprung back as a man stalked from the room with a snarl, long brown hair whipping past them. "Good fucking luck in there," He said in a grated voice, before sweeping down the hall.
Sengoku peeked into the room.
"Ah, Mr. Atobe. I believe I have your musicians here."
-
AN: Man, that was rushed towards the end. But in retrospect, this was the longest piece of fic I have ever written. I was in awe! Shock! Amazement! XD I'm sorry if the characters seem OOC. If you have a case with them, tell me, and I'll try to give my explanation. I'll admit, I've been taking artistic liberties... (like with their clothes. No way Shinji and Kamio would dress like that. But they SHOULD. XD)
It's sad when you realize everything you know about bands comes from Gravitation. (please bear with me and my made-up facts. :3)
Comments? Complaints?
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(Because I want to, I'm responding to reviews. BECAUSE IT'S THE NICE THING TO DOOOO!)
Eviljinxypoo- Megan, I can't bear your children. You and I both have uterus's. XD
ILuvFujiko- Er, Oshitari being Gakuto's slave... -drools- Er, I mean, Yes. I will continue.
Seven- Thanks for the review! I love ShinjiKamio! -starry eyes-
A.F.D.- Man, your name is long. Hope you don't mind that I abbreviated it? Thank yooou for commenting.
Suuki- I was so nervous that the band idea was too cliched. Glad you liked! I didn't really like Yummi before this. XD Now I'm rabid!
animelover630- Don't send the ninjas. Anything but the ninjas! XD Buahaha. More on Shinji's depression later! And more Jirou. Maybe even AtoJi. Hm!
IceRi- Awesome, A c2? Cool! Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint? XD