Hiroki's teeth chattered as he stumbled through the snow, his duffel bag clutched to his side. Snowflakes were caught in his eyelashes, freezing the tears that had nestled there. His face was unbearably cold, the saltiness of his frozen tears biting into his skin.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a honk. Hiroki turned to see a red sports car driving alongside him. The window opened, revealing a grim-faced Akihiko.

"Get in," he said gruffly. Hiroki hesitantly walked around the front of the car and slipped into the passenger seat. He slammed the door shut behind him, and Akihiko drove off, slower than usual.

"Is Nowaki okay?" Hiroki asked softly. Akihiko paused.

"Physically he's fine," Akihiko said. "Mentally… you're really straining him, Hiroki."

"I know," Hiroki whispered. Akihiko sighed through his nose.

"He's losing it," Akihiko muttered. Hiroki clutched his duffel bag, forcing out a few wry laughs.

"Ha… and he was the one to tell me to not let the raiders get to my head."

"Don't turn this into a joke, Hiroki. Kusama is seriously just… wild with terror. You really have no idea how desperate he is to protect you."

Hiroki shut his eyes against the tears that were already swimming there.

"That pill… really ruined everything, didn't it?" Hiroki choked shakily, wiping away his tears with the heel of his hands.

"It has. But it created so much more," Akihiko said. He glanced at Hiroki. "The love between you and Kusama is mind blowing. Even I don't know if I love Misaki as much as Kusama loves you. A love that drives him to insanity, that tears his life into shreds… that compels him to throw away his health just for the sake of protecting you… now that's devotion."

"Devotion…?" Hiroki hissed, pressing his hand into his forehead. "He's going back to his distant self."

"Please understand that his behavior is just desperation. He feels like the raiders are literally watching his every step. He has lost everything, except for you and Fuyumi, and he has gotten to the point where he would do absolutely anything to protect you both. There is no doubt in my mind that, once you're safely in Sweden, he will revert back to his former self. Don't lose faith in him, Hiroki."

Hiroki tipped his head back against the seat and wept, his molten tears heating his face.

"N-Never… I have never lost faith in him," Hiroki whispered.

"Good. We're here, Hiroki," Akihiko said gently. Hiroki tipped his head forward and looked out his window at the hospital.

"Thank you," he said softly, wiping his tears and opening the car door. A hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Hiroki. No matter what, return to him before you have to leave for Sweden," Akihiko said. Hiroki grimaced.

"Yeah."

Hiroki got out of the car and shut the door before Akihiko sped off. Facing the hospital once more, Hiroki made his way through the glass doors. He requested to see Shinobu, and made his way down hall F towards room seventy. When he got there, he knocked gently on the door. No one answered, and he pushed the door open.

Shinobu was lying in bed, an IV tube in his arm as he stared blankly out the window at the snow-covered ground. Miyagi had pulled up a folding chair and was sitting beside Shinobu, also staring into the distance. Their hands were clasped loosely on the bed.

Hiroki's eyes traveled to the corner, where there was a baby crib on wheels. Swallowing his hammering heart, Hiroki went to the crib and peered inside.

Shinobu's son looked up at Hiroki, his grey eyes blinking up at his godpapa. They were hungry eyes, hopeful eyes, begging eyes. The eyes of a baby who had yet to be held by loved ones. Hiroki's lip trembled as he reached into the crib and took the baby into his arms.

"Don't worry, baby," Hiroki whispered. Shinobu's son started to cry, but his cries almost seemed to be cries of relief. Hiroki brought him up to kiss his forehead. "Your godpapa is here."

The baby's cries dwindled into whimpers, and Hiroki hushed him, rocking him steadily.

"It's okay. You haven't been abandoned. You are loved."


"Miyagi, you dumbass," Hiroki muttered on Christmas day as he fiddled with the GPS in Miyagi's car. Miyagi and Shinobu sat silently in the backseat, leaning against the windows. Shinobu's son sat in the center of the backseat, in a baby seat. Hiroki, meanwhile, had taken the driver's seat, much to his annoyance and nervousness.

Driving was never one of his strong points.

"You idiots are lucky I even know how to drive," Hiroki grumbled as he looked over his shoulder and backed out of his parking space. He glanced up at the GPS. "God, please let this be the right address."

Hiroki drove out of the parking lot, barely missing the curb of the driveway. He cursed loudly and jerkily made his way onto the road.

Ten minutes later, Hiroki pulled into the parking lot of a motel and parked the car close to the building. Hiroki turned around in his seat.

"Miyagi, give me your wallet," he said. Miyagi didn't move. Hiroki grumbled in annoyance and fumbled with his seatbelt. He got out of the car and went around to Miyagi's side. He threw open the car door, and Miyagi almost toppled out. He jerked and blinked dazedly, but immediately went back to staring into space.

After a lot of struggling, Hiroki managed to get Miyagi out of the car. He got a collapsible wheelchair that he had taken from the hospital out of the trunk and unfolded it. Wheeling it up to Shinobu's side of the car, he helped Shinobu clamber into it.

Shinobu's son, meanwhile, had begun to cry again. Hiroki groaned in frustration and struggled to unbuckle the baby from his restraints.

"Miyagi, I'm going to carry your brat in. You have to wheel Shinobu," Hiroki instructed loudly. To his surprise, Miyagi staggered forward to grasp Shinobu's wheelchair. "Oh… g-good."

Hiroki walked alongside Miyagi, who blinked lazily at the motel. Concerned, Hiroki glanced up at his former superior every few seconds, absentmindedly stroking his son's back.

"Miyagi, what room number are you?" Hiroki asked softly. Miyagi's ebony gaze flicked down to him, again surprising Hiroki.

"Eleven," he muttered quietly. He veered off to the right, and Hiroki scrambled to keep up with him. They reached a door that read '11', and Miyagi shakily reached into his pants pocket and got his wallet out. His fingers quivered as he opened it. Before he could reach inside, it slipped from his grasp, plopping into the snow. Hiroki hurriedly stooped down to pick up the wallet once more.

"I'll get it," Hiroki said softly. He balanced Shinobu's son in one arm, then took out a keycard with his teeth. He handed the wallet back to Miyagi, then went to the door and slid the keycard into its slot. He twisted the handle of the door and swung it open.

Hiroki's heart caught in his throat. The first thing he saw was a double stroller. He saw two sets of onesies lied out on the motel bed, one blue and one green. A few packages of diapers were stacked up against the opposite wall, and a double diaper changing station sat beside it. Hiroki stepped inside with Shinobu's son, swallowing the lump in his throat. Miyagi wheeled Shinobu in behind him, moving slowly across the carpet. Hiroki shut the door behind him, then turned towards Miyagi as he went straight to the bed. He scooped Shinobu up and out of the wheelchair, then laid him out on the bed. Miyagi combed his fingers through Shinobu's hair, staring down at the dull grey orbs that gazed up at the ceiling.

"Miyagi?" Hiroki whispered. Miyagi looked up, his eyes resting on his bundled-up son.

"Take that baby away. I can't look at it," he muttered monotonously, turning away and sitting on the edge of the bed beside Shinobu. He bent over him and pressed kisses to his jaw.

"Why…" Hiroki whispered. "Why can't you look at him?"

Miyagi sat up again, not getting a response from Shinobu.

"It looks like its brother."

Hiroki frowned down at his godchild, bouncing him slightly as he whimpered.

"Are you hungry, baby?" Hiroki cooed gently. Without looking at Miyagi, he walked to the microwave on the hotel counter. Beside it were two packages of formula, sided by two color coded bottles. Hiroki's heart throbbed as he sadly prepared some formula and popped the bottle into the microwave.

"Kamijou. Get out," Miyagi hissed. Hiroki glanced angrily over his shoulder at Miyagi, who was facing him. He was covering Shinobu's eyes with one hand. "Just get out."

"No," Hiroki snapped. "You're saying terrible things about your beautiful son, an innocent newborn. Look at him, Miyagi."

Miyagi squeezed his eyes shut as Hiroki held out Shinobu's son.

"This is the same baby you cried over. This is the same baby that you fell in love with and claimed to love so much. This is the same baby that you took to Sweden to keep safe. And now, you don't even want to look at him? You're despicable," Hiroki snarled in disgust. Miyagi shot to his feet.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Miyagi roared. Shinobu's son jumped and began to wail. "YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND!"

Hiroki clutched his godchild to him, desperately trying to pacify him.

"We… we had the perfect names picked out… Yuichi and Yuji… but now we…w-we..." Miyagi sank back down onto the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and yanked, strangled cries tearing themselves from his throat. Hiroki turned away from him, his face dark. He pulled the formula out of the microwave and screwed the nipple onto the top.

"Take him."

Hiroki's eyes widened, the formula bottle slipping from his fingers and bouncing to the floor. He turned around to face Shinobu, who had weakly raised his head. Tears streamed down the sides of his contorted face.

"He's yours. Take him. I don't want him."