The rusted hinges gave a loud creek as Sing pushed open the backdoor. The wood was chipped and somewhat deformed so that it scratched against the floor, making an ugly sound that matched the overall impression that the building gave off.

Sing had been desperate in coming here, just a little over a week ago. He had needed someone who wouldn't ask questions, who wouldn't side with other fractions in exchange for some cash or other bribes. He had needed someone who had no interest in seeing Ash Lynx dead for his own benefit or that of others. And this place, well, it had been the first to pop into Sing's head.

Qiu Huang was a doctor who fit all the needed criteria. However, rumor had it that the man lacked in other qualities as he was known for his odd character more so than his medical skills. Pressed for time and secrecy, Sing had decided to bet it all on him, and he was fortunate that, in the end, he seemed to have been right to do so. Ash lived, all thanks to this doctor.

Upon first laying sight on Ash as he had hung heavily on Sing's shoulder, Qiu had sprung into action and saved Ash's life with an immediate surgery and intensive aftercare. Though Sing had not been present for most of it, he had been shocked to see the resources Qiu had at his disposal. Not just medicines had been stacked in those shelves, but Qiu also had access to human blood that he stored in a freezer.

Sing had questions, and a lot of them.

He made his way inside the building, up a flight of stairs and through yet another door. He had entered through the back since, apparently, Qiu had deemed it necessary to barricade the front. For protection, he'd said, briskly, when Sing had inquired about what the hell was going on. Sing knew better than to question him again and merely considered himself lucky that Qiu had left at least the one entrance as was. Sing wasn't necessarily eager to break in through one of the windows, though maybe Qiu had decided to board those up, too.

"Paranoid geezer," Sing muttered under his breath, shortly before reaching the main room of the building. It looked as though it didn't belong here at all; clean, modern, fresh. In the room right behind this one, Qiu had performed surgery on Ash.

This time, Qiu was sitting on a chair with a gun in his hand, his bulging eyes flicking nervously from one side to the other. His thin hair was drawn back in a short pony tail.

Bones and Kong were sprawled out on the couch but immediately looked up at Sing when he entered. They didn't seem overly surprised by Qiu, who jumped to his feet that very moment.

"S—Stay back!" The man yelled, his teeth gritted as he pointed the gun at Sing.

Sing moved his hands in a calming gesture, tensing in spite of himself. "Easy there, dude. Wouldn't want any more injured here."

As expected, Qiu's shoulders dropped. He lowered the gun, all the while muttering an apology under his breath. "Sorry. B-bit jumpy today."

"I can see that," Sing said. "How is he?"

"No different than when you stopped by yesterday," Qiu said, dropping back on his chair. The gun remained in his hands, his fingers dragging along the barrel. "He will need more time to recover, some more weeks till he can walk."

Sing nodded. "Make sure he does."

One of Ash's gang members snorted in response, the smaller one. He averted his eyes when Sing glared at him, and with that, Sing decided to drop it. He understood why there was distrust. After all, Ash wouldn't be here had it not been for Sing and his brother Lao.

If only you'd listened to me, Sing thought. If only I had been a better leader.

He pushed past the doctor and entered an adjacent room, the patient's room.

It was dark inside, the windows hidden behind curtains, and the air smelled stale. Ash appeared to be sleeping, but Sing knew he wasn't. No way Sing could walk in here without him noticing.

"Still playing Sleeping Beauty?" Sing teased. He closed the door behind him, one hand in his trouser pockets.

Ash huffed, weakly. One of his eyes was open. "Just don't try to kiss me awake."

Sing pulled up the chair next to Ash's bed and sat on it backward. He put his arms on the backrest.

As soon as he was seated, he started right away with the reason for his coming, "I called Eiji, earlier."

Of course it drew Ash's full attention to him. His gaze seemed focused and sharp, almost like Ash's usual stare had it not been for his sickly complexion and unwashed hair. He was pale, even for a white boy.

"Why?"

"To bring him up to speed. He was missing out on some things he had a right to know about."

Ash's frown deepened, but Sing didn't let it deter him.

"He's fine, by the way. Though it seemed like he was arguing with someone. His mum, I think. He, well-"

"He wants to come back."

Sing nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah. And he will soon by the sound of it."

Sing licked his lips. "I know it's none of my business," he said. "But I think you should go with him this time. You've done what you needed to do here; your slate's clean. Everyone's in your debt."

Sing especially.

Ash looked away and said nothing.

"Give it some thought. A change of scenery would be good for ya, man."

"Is that all?"

Sing wondered. Yes, in fact, that was all. Maybe he shouldn't have bothered coming for just this, but he had started to care about both Ash and Eiji more than he let on. He admired Ash, but something told him that Eiji too had qualities that, somehow, drew in not just Ash but also himself. Their attraction was different without a doubt, but Sing had taken an interest in the person who had caused such a change in the stone-cold killer Ash Lynx.

"My boys are starting to accept what happened," he told him. "Some still have it out for you and your gang, but I'll make sure they won't get any funny ideas."

With regret, he added, "I've learned from my mistakes."

Ash nodded, and it seemed as though this was the end of their conversation. Sing was about to stand up when Ash looked at him again. Something about that gaze made Sing remain seated.

"You are a good leader," Ash said. "Maybe precisely because you don't want to be one."

Sing remained motionless, but his insides had stirred. Whether or not he agreed with Ash, he had never expected to hear such words of praise. And now that he did hear them, Sing felt shame more so than glee.

"As I said, dude. I'm learning."

Days had passed since Eiji's argument with his mother. They hadn't spoken since, though Eiji wondered if maybe he had been unjustified in speaking to her the way he had. He didn't necessarily avoid her, but whenever they were in the same room, he couldn't think of the right words to start a conversation. Should he apologize? He wondered. While he understood his mother's worries, he still couldn't let that deter him from doing what he knew to be right.

Eiji sat on the floor, around him boxes and boxes of film and already developed photographs. He sorted through the pictures he had made while in America to determine which of them were usable and which of them weren't. Unsurprisingly, many of them, if not the majority, showed Ash. The ones dating back longer didn't show Ash's face, maybe his torso or the back of his head as he sat with his fellow gang members.

Eiji remembered that, at their first meeting, Ash had asked them for anonymity, but Eiji had soon forgotten about this rule, as apparent by the countless pictures of him taken later.

After being kidnapped, after Ash's stay in the hospital, he and Eiji had soon grown closer, and Ash hadn't seemed to mind Eiji pointing a camera at his face anymore. It had been fun, truly, to catch him off guard with it sometimes.

Some of the pictures had turned out goofy, while others showed Ash completely unawares and utterly beautiful; Ash standing by the window, his hair golden in the evening sun; Ash midst wind-swept grass; Ash on the back of a truck lifting his sunglasses; Ash reading at night.

The more time they had spent together, the less Eiji had thought about work when picking up the camera and the more he had decided to have fun, to capture moments they had spent together. He only now realized just how many pictures he had taken, how many moments there had been.

He sorted these pictures into a separate pile, for safekeeping, while collecting the others to hand over to Ibi-san the next day. Ibe-san's publisher had, despite the major delay, expressed an interest in buying at least some of the pictures. With enough luck, Eiji would receive a sufficient amount of money to cover for the flight back to America and maybe even the return flight to Japan.

He hoped, wished, he would need yet another ticket then.

He wondered about this, about Ash, when someone knocked at his door. Eiji looked up to find his sister Seiko stick her head in, momentarily searching before lowering her gaze to meet his as she found him sitting on the floor.

"Hey, bro," she said.

Eiji waved her in with a smile.

"What's up?" he asked, but Seiko joined him on the ground wordlessly. She pulled her knees close to her body and, unsurprisingly, took a look at the mess Eiji had made of his room.

"You sure took a lot of them."

And, yes, he had. Various sized boxes were littered across the floor, pieces of film were strewn about and thrown in with other photographs that Eiji thought fitted together in one way or another.

"I did," he admitted with a shrug. "I got carried away a little bit."

"Is it alright for you to sit here?"

Even now, his injuries hadn't healed fully.

"It doesn't hurt much." But it hurt some.

Seiko seemed to hear this in his words, and she frowned a little. However, she didn't comment on it and instead reached for one of the pictures. It was one of Ash's, of course.

"He's handsome."

Eiji laughed. "He is, isn't he?"

"He's in most of them."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Seiko spent a little longer looking at Ash's pictures before turning to Eiji again. "Is he Ash?"

Eiji said nothing.

"He is, isn't he? The boy you want to go back to America for."

"Seiko-"

"My good luck charm worked then?"

She gave a shy smile, and all Eiji could do was stare.

"I know you're gay, you know?"

"Ah." Eiji stiffened, suddenly very interested in the piece of film he was holding. It showed a fire hydrant, not Ash. What a great shot it was, so very worthy of closer inspection.

"I don't care," Seiko continued. "Mum might, but she doesn't know yet, I don't think, and I sure won't tell her."

Seiko leaned closer, now too looking at the film. She gave a snort before bumping her shoulder into his. It relieved some of the tension, and Eiji soon realized that he was smiling.

Ibe-san's publisher ended up buying most of the pictures. Eiji wondered about it, hadn't expected it, but he was nevertheless glad for it. With this money, Eiji could afford the plane ticket to America.

He booked the flight online the same day and packed his things at night while everyone was sleeping. He didn't want to leave without his mother knowing about it, without having said goodbye to her, but Eiji wondered if it wouldn't be better for the both of them if he did just that to spare them both the confrontation.

When he asked Seiko about it, she turned very quiet, before saying, "She'll be mad, but... I don't think you should tell her."

In the end, Eiji decided to leave behind a letter for his mother to find. Eiji had had it with letters, actually, but he thought it better than to vanish without any word at all.

He sat on his work desk, scratching his head as he pondered on what to write.

I'll come back as soon as I can, he started. And he would. That was, so long as they would have him. The thought made him grab his pen tightly.

I'm sorry I'm...

No, that was all wrong. He balled up the sheet and started again.

I'll come back as soon as I can.

I love y...

Eiji sighed. In the trash bin again. He stared at it, wondered if it mattered at all what he wrote. Regardless of how he phrased it, he would break his mother's heart.

He closed his eyes and decided that, yes, it was worth doing this. He wrote,

I'll come back as soon as I can.

This short letter, more of a note really, he put on the kitchen table early the next morning. The sun wasn't up yet, but Seiko had decided to wake in time to see him off. She was still wearing her pajamas, and Eiij thought she looked as though she hadn't slept much at all this last night. Eiji worried she would fall asleep on her way to school that day.

Being with her again had made him realize how much he had missed her while abroad. She was quiet, and fierce, and smart. Just thinking about how she lay awake in bed, worrying for him, made Eiji feel tears well up in his eyes. He blinked them away and smiled instead.

"Thank you, sis," he told her.

Seiko watched him silently as he put on his jacket and threw on his backpack. When he was done, they looked at each other. Eiji didn't know how to say goodbye, but Seiko managed.

"...Have a safe trip," she said before her eyes too started to glisten. Eiji wasted no time to hug her close again, one last time. Her smaller body was shaking against his. She dug her fingers into his back, tensed as though scared he would break the embrace.

It was like she expected to never see him again. Eiji's throat became tight.

"I'll come back with Ash," he promised. "Then you'll get to meet him too, okay?"

Seiko nodded against him, firmly, before she gently pushed him away. Her face was wet with tears, but her smile was genuine. She made a fist and bumped it gently against his chest, something she had done when Eiji had left the first time around. It almost overwhelmed him, but her words snapped him out of it.

"Be careful," she said.

"You too," he replied.

Eiji left carrying nothing but his backpack. All he needed would be right there in America, waiting for him.