Doubt Chapter 11: Give a Little, a gravitation fanfic

CHAPTER 11

Give a Little

Uesugi Tatsuha grinned across the table at his brother and received a scowl in return.

The brothers were sitting in the window-front smoking section of a café. They had just finished negotiations, Eiri asking for Tatsuha's help in moving house and the younger Uesugi bargaining for having an option on a guest room. And now, the two were precise mirror images in opposition: Tatsuha grinning while Eiri scowled, he dark where his brother was pale, Eiri dressed in unrelieved black and he in various colours, and they were sitting in almost the same pose opposite each other across the café table. He had to grin at the mental image he conjured of them. Dismissing his own humour, he conversationally changed topics and asked,

"What did you think of the Valentine's Day concert?"

Pulling his gaze away, Eiri tapped out a stick from his pack of cigarettes and took it with his lips. As he fumbled with his lighter, he muttered around the dangling stick, "Good."

"Are there any other adjectives you'd care to apply?" Tatsuha prodded.

"None at the moment."

"That good, huh?" Tatsuha's expression turned downright devilish as he muttered, "Must have made you really horny to have--" He leaned back quickly out of the way when a pale hand came swooping by, fingertips just brushing over his bangs. It would have smacked him broadside his head had he not been expecting it. He laughed and Eiri's expression turned, if it was possible, even sourer. But the writer did not, as he might have done in the past, get up and wordlessly leave. Silently thankful for the change in his sibling but still wanting to push his luck a little, he commented, "You know, I like this therapist of yours."

Eiri glared warningly as he tapped ash from his cigarette and picked up his coffee cup.

Tatsuha ignored his brother's look and smiled affectionately, sincerely, "I've been dying of curiosity since you let slip how she made you write a whole Checklist of Sociability… but I dare say its working." He grinned mischievously before adding, "I get to see it in action and I'm impressed. You're beginning to pass for human now."

"Kindly refrain from making this more unpleasant than it already is, Tatsu."

He ignored those dangerously flashing eyes and, attention drawn away, grinned over his brother's blonde head and waved at Hanabishi Aku and Hisashi Kaoru, who had just unexpectedly stepped through the café doors.

"Too late," he told Eiri. He waved the couple over, indicating they should join the brothers.

"Hello, Ice King," Aku greeted as he pulled out a chair for his girlfriend.

"Aku!" Tatsuha smiled as he gave the man a brief hug. "It's great to run into you like this." Tatsuha had remained friends with his older brother's former classmate when Eiri had gone to live in New York with Tohma. His respect for the man had increased ten fold when Aku had stood by his brother when the then-traumatised teen had returned. Aku was, to him, something of a second older brother. They kept in touch, met up a few times at restaurants or bars with and without Aku's girlfriend… and sometimes, a certain singer would tag along.

"It is nice to see you again, Yuki-san," Kaoru smiled politely, uncertainly. Catching on to the lovely woman's discomfort around his brother, Tatsuha grinned widely at her in a warmly welcoming manner. He would be enough to balance things out for his stoic sibling.

"Hey there, Hisashi-san! How are you doing?" Tatsuha engaged the girl in small talk, distracting her from Eiri's chilly demeanour and getting her to relax. Concerned, he kept an ear on the other conversation as well, however.

"You look better," Aku was saying. "How was your term in the centre?" To Tatsuha, it was a testament to the relationship Eiri shared with Aku for the man to easily ask after his brother's stay in rehabilitation. The two old friends had seen little of each other since this mess with the press and Bad Luck had begun.

"Successful, that's all that matters," Eiri replied shortly, on a low tone. "How are you and…" his gaze flickered over the girl his brother was keeping occupied, a small frown on his face as he struggled to recall her name.

"Kaoru," Aku supplied, kindly. He disregarded the rudeness, and it seemed to matter to the man that Eiri was trying. "We're good. We celebrated our two year anniversary last week." Tatsuha wondered if Eiri and Shuichi had set themselves an anniversary when the singer had moved in with the writer just over two years prior. Judging by the small frown creasing his brother's brow, Eiri must have been thinking the same thing.

"That's… nice," Eiri commented, stubbing out his cigarette. "Congratulations."

Aku stifled his growing smile, kept it from blossoming into a full grin. "Thank you," he replied politely with a nod.

The conversation grew warmer and genuinely interesting as the lunch progressed. And Tatsuha carefully observed his brother throughout, noting how Eiri was really trying to participate.

Not once did the novelist lose his temper, snap or say something sarcastic. He remained charming and kind, despite the indifferent expression he wore the entire time, smoking one cigarette after another. He almost seemed like his old self, the nice and engaging side that he put on to get people to do what he wanted, but there was a touch of sincerity this time which Tatsuha hadn't really seen before.

It wasn't that Eiri was plain rude. It was just that the man preferred not to waste time. He was a purpose-person, doing things only for a reason when and if they needed doing. Sure he could get nasty and rude very quickly, but that was because of his short temper. If you kept in mind the disclaimer that no matter what he said and what tone of voice he used, that in the end it was always what he did that counted, you would see Eiri's real self. For the most part, the writer was actually quite easy to deal with. He did what he meant and meant what he did, said what he meant and meant what he said. No games.

If you asked him a question, you'd get an answer. It might be delivered in monosyllables without any buffers, but it was an honest reply. But most people just found it very difficult to deal with such a black and white person, one who was simply without any dressings or unnecessary warmth. Though, when Eiri cared, he really did. Tatsuha had experienced it, knew that when push came to shove, his brother would be there for him. He might occasionally drive Eiri crazy, and Tatsuha knew he did sometimes deserve a smack upside his head, but even he knew his brother loved him too.

Simple.

It's so simple, it's complicated.

Hanabishi Aku and only a few others had understood this. Shuichi had been one of them, and without the benefit of knowing Eiri from before the writer had lived in New York. If anything, that kid had instinctively read his brother better than Tatsuha had ever thought would be possible. Pondering this, he wondered how one would feel to lose the person who had understood? Tatsuha couldn't imagine it. All he knew was, his brother loved that boy and was loved in return… that and Shuichi had always needed to be 'fetched', so why the heck had the singer turned Eiri away?

He sighed.

Tatsuha watched his brother, who was in turn carefully observing Aku and Kaoru. It seemed that every time the couple touched each other, Eiri's eyes were drawn to the point of contact. The writer was careful to keep his glances surreptitious, his attention unnoticed, but curiosity gleamed in those hazel eyes… and a touch of longing. When Kaoru left to go to the ladies room, Aku and Tatsuha together pinned Eiri with their eyes. The novelist ignored them.

"What is it?" Aku asked, stealing a cigarette from Eiri's pack on the table. "You were clever, but I saw those looks you were throwing our way." Directing his glare at the table, the writer took a leisurely drag off his own stick before asking,

"How?" He frowned a little, as though not quite happy with the question he had asked, looking unable to ask what he meant. "How do you… do that?" He gestured in Kaoru's general direction.

"She is my best friend," Aku replied simply, in a tone of voice that implied his answer made perfect sense. "I think it is because we are friends that anything beyond is made possible."

"Beyond, hmm?" The writer murmured, turning his head to face the window and absently watch the passers-by.

"A relationship is based on friendship and you know that, you've written about it!" Aku snorted a little, smiling amiably.

Tatsuha grinned. "Aniki knows everything about love," he turned to observe Eiri's reaction to his next words, "but not too much about relationships yet." Other than a twitching of his eye, Eiri didn't react and continued to watch the people on the street. Presently, Kaoru returned and everyone stood to leave. Tatsuha and Eiri excused themselves and the couple bid the brothers fare well. As the two were walking away, the Uesugis overheard her ask,

"It's White Day in two weeks, do you think we could do something together?"

Eiri scowled.

White Day, the flip side of Valentine's and the day of reciprocity between lovers. Shuichi had sent him flowers… the flowers of which he had turned upside down and pinned to the corkboard in the kitchen to dry. He had absolutely no intention of throwing them away when, in their dried state, they looked just as delicate and interesting as when they were fresh… and they were a gift from Shuichi.

He found himself honestly wanting to accept the cue to reciprocate for Shu's Valentine's Day gesture. It should go over better this time when Shuichi would be forced to accept his gift, even if simply out of sheer politeness. He didn't want another rejection to rack up on his score. Especially when he really believed that Shuichi belonged to him. The singer had said so himself, if those Valentine's Day flowers were anything to go by… Hell, he really needed to settle that one. He made a mental note to call Miho-san and ask about that bouquet, just to confirm who they'd been from.

In the parking garage, he and Tatsuha wordlessly nodded to each other and parted ways. Eiri unlocked and slid into his car, sitting back into the leather to enjoy the silence.

He sank into his thoughts, thinking back to how he had promised himself and his therapist that he would do something to try and express how he felt to Shuichi. He would not make a big deal of it if his former lover refused his apologies now. He wanted to keep trying and he wanted Shuichi to know the truth, because just telling the little singer now would not be enough. He wanted the boy to fully understand that he meant every word, from apology to confession. He wanted his words to mean something, to be recognised for the heartfelt intention it was. And if at the end of it all when Shuichi truly understood how he felt, then maybe the boy would hurt less if he still wanted to walk away.

He felt rather proud of himself for not asking Tatsuha how Shuichi was these days. Because even though he felt Shu was his, and that he belonged to the little brat, he honestly wasn't so sure their relationship could be mended anymore. But he could do with remaining in doubt about a future with Shuichi. Not asking, not knowing, was easily the lesser of evils between sating his mad curiosity and hearing the boy might be over him. Eiri growled softly to himself.

Friendship and equality, Aku had implied. He didn't really know how to apply that to his relationship with Shuichi…

He sighed.

What relationship? The boy had left him, and knowing what he did now, he could not be surprised he'd been abandoned. He had never expected to learn so much about relationships just by more actively participating in those he already had, and observing those within his 'realm'. To see really was to believe. As his brother had so succinctly pointed out, he knew a lot about love, and nothing about relationships. Oh, he knew the formulae and the order of things, the bases and the levels, but nothing about what it really was in real life. Romance in the books he wrote were just fiction, a passionate and illogical coming-together, or maybe just a dream woven for the same people who had grown up on shining knights in armour and princesses in castles.

He snorted at the image his mind conjured of Shuichi in a medieval gown. If Shuichi could ever be dressed as the princess in the tower, then Eiri would be the dragon holding hostage. He really felt, really believed, that he had been the selfish monster who had kept someone of such beauty to himself when the boy could have been happier elsewhere.

But he couldn't let go.

No matter what he thought and no matter what logic told him, he could not, would not, let the brat go. He would admit he was a selfish bastard and that he didn't love the boy enough to let him go, whatever it was he would admit it but there was nothing enough to shame him into embarrassment over the truth. Whatever happiness was, whatever it would be that could make Shuichi happy, Eiri wanted to be the one to give it to him. Just the thought that someone else—

His stomach clenched and his vision slid a little to one side. Ugh… He couldn't even stomach the idea.

Bad Luck was due to depart for Fukushima, the location of the second concert of the tour, in two days.

Therefore it was natural that the band, Mr K and Sakano-san hold their usual pre-conference meeting before a pre-departure press conference. It was there they learned from Seguchi-san that this tour would be serving as a source of publicity in more ways than the usual. Apparently, the public was to learn more about the group in the form of a scrap book and interview collection of their tour experience. The schedule was a lot less hectic this time around, they learned, so that they would not be too stressed out to participate in this little side project.

A little side project that would include a photographer… and a certain novelist.

Shuichi was beyond upset, of course. He demanded to know the contract signing date, everyone but Seguchi looking a little puzzled as to why that would in any way be significant. But upon hearing the answer, he had immediately calmed down and acknowledged the situation without further argument, glaring at the NG president. That Tohma had been trying to give him and Yuki an opportunity to work things out, but that was before the Twelve Kisses party and the new promise Tohma had made not to meddle. A few months ago he would have been happy that he and Yuki were being thrown together… when he hadn't been so scared yet. When things were still just about him and Yuki and not about him, Yuki and some other stupid woman who…

Forget that. Now there was a contract involved and that photographer… Shuichi sighed.

He could accept this. He could and he would. He supposed his acceptance didn't make any sense to the rest of the band but he refused to respond to further prodding into the matter. Hiro looked mightily pissed off about that. Great, just great…

Stupid Tohma.

Shuichi remained stubbornly silent as he and the band trooped up onto the conference table, then switched on his pleasant side for the press once everyone had settled. He took control as he always did, courting the media and wooing them with his charms. He plagued them with his trademark childishness, most impish smiles and cutest giggles. This was a game and he would be damned if he was going to let the opposition score another point on him. He was in control. So he made the announcement to the press and sat back.

The room went utterly silent. Gesturing to one side of the conference table, Shuichi pointed their attention to where the new group would be joining them on the podium.

It was only when Yuki Eiri, Seguchi Tohma and an unknown young man stepped up was there the largest rush of flashing cameras and onslaught of questions they'd ever experienced. The reporters had not been expecting this, not so soon after rumours of an argument between the band singer and the writer at the Bad Luck tour launch party. More than anything they were most curious, almost rudely so, about how the band and the writer would be working together. The tension on the stage was quite palpable and the news crews were rabid for details. Uncharacteristically, Seguchi-san remained silent.

Shuichi, all too aware of the writer's presence, lapsed into silence. His stupid control had gone quickly down the damn drain at the first sight of the writer. It wasn't fair! He sat back and, schooling his features into an innocently patient expression, firmly kept his eyes from his ex-boyfriend. The three new comers took their seats and, wonder of wonders, Seguchi Tohma sat back and remained silent. Catching on to his best friend's discomfort when the press turned to the singer for further clarification, Hiro jumped in to break the nervous tension and answer the first question he received.

"I'm not happy with these arrangements," the guitarist admitted, "being Shuichi's best friend and knowing what happened between them. But I am supporting his decision to honour what our label wants of us." He reached over into Shuichi's lap and grasped a trembling hand there, and continued, "We are professionals and we will behave as professionals." Grateful, Shuichi looked up into the warmth shining in his best friend's grey eyes and exchanged a small smile.

Fujisaki Suguru, the clever little rascal, took the opportunity to push the band's image into further positive light. He not only calmly agreed with the guitarist's words, but stood up and served the silent novelist a respectful bow and public apology for the strike he dealt the novelist at NG the month before. There was a murmur of approval throughout the room for the youngest band member's proper and polite behaviour.

All attention turned to the writer to see what the man would do now, the ball in Yuki-san's court.

With solemn sincerity never before witnessed of the normally stoic writer, Yuki Eiri formally accepted Fujisaki's apology. To everyone's shock, Yuki-san also stood and bowed, this time to the quiet singer, and issued a public apology for his infidelity. Without waiting for Shuichi's reply, silently displaying that he did not expect one as a show of his humility, Yuki-san sat back down. And Shuichi was floored.

Yuki apologised? On national TV? It was too strange. But then again, that writer had… something with the press. He just made these random announcements like they weren't of any real consequence when K would shoot for such publicity-worthy fodder.

It was then Seguchi finally took control by introducing the project photographer as the young man with them. Ushizaki Katsuya, a dark haired and grey-eyed slender-built youth who had won a recent NG online photography competition had been given the job. It was here that everyone learned this project had been in the making for some time but the announcement had been held off until he was certain the band was ready.

Amidst the questions and general madness, Shuichi peeked over Hiro's arm resting on the table. His best friend was too tall and too big, so all he could see further along on the table were the writer's pale hands. Those hands remained calmly folded, the grasp tightening occasionally as the press prodded into personal matters. He couldn't see his former lover's face, couldn't see what Yuki was really feeling. He would know, of course, just by looking upon the expression on that mask of a face. He would know the truth. And suddenly he was glad that he was small and that Hiro was blocking the view. This was all for the best.

Right?

Of course, the inevitable eventually happened. Having not been able to get anything beyond a confirmation that Shuichi and Yuki had last spoken at the Bad Luck tour launch party out of the singer, the press therefore re-issued the question to the only other person who could answer.

"I will confirm, as Shindou-san did," said the expressionless Yuki, "that the meeting between us did take place." Shuichi trembled at the words, sensing that more was coming. Hiro's grip tightened in his. "It was a grave miscalculation to initiate such contact to issue an apology." Yuki continued. "I have apologised publicly now, but certainly one mere gesture does not redeem me."

Redeem? Shit. The memories of those touching words echoed in Shuichi's mind. He didn't want to remember those wonderful things Yuki had spoken with such sincerity, the words he had always wanted to hear from his lover. His ex lover… Those words were too good for him now. He took a steadying breath, listening as Yuki paused and he, like the press, waited to hear if the writer had more to say.

Yuki took a breath before adding, "Hopefully, there will be a later opportunities for me to express my… sincerity." As Shuichi reeled, the press pounced.

"Do you plan on winning him back?"

"Will you be spending time with Shindou-sama during the tour?"

"What plans have you made to express this sincerity? Is this in reiteration of your apology?"

Yuki silenced them with an impatient wave of his hand and said, "I am preoccupied enough trying to make the best of the situation and do my job." He frowned as he said, "My relationship with Bad Luck and Shui-- Shindou-san will be as they dictate. I have nothing further to say."

No, don't say that. Just go the hell away or…

Shuichi wanted to scream. He gripped Hiro's hand with both of his and carefully schooled his breathing. I am a professional, he told himself. This was all just part of the job, this was just a press conference. Heck, how many conferences had he done already? This was part of his job and he always did his job well, and he would not fall apart in front of the press. He would be in control and he would stay that way. He gritted his teeth.

To hell with them all.

Public appearances were one thing in Nakano Hiroshi's book. When you're contracted to one of the biggest empires in the country, you learn proper public conduct pretty fast.

Never mind if your best friend is falling apart, never mind if the man you hate is right beside you, you keep your act together and give that fake smile you'd long ago learned to perfect. Hiro knew that he was needed, that he needed to be strong and he had done his part. But that was this morning and in public. This afternoon and in private, especially at the door of his own home, was quite another matter.

"That hurt," Yuki-san commented dryly, sprawled on the ground before the Bad Luck house front door, clutching his left jaw.

Hiro watched the man's pale hazel eyes blink, the irises skittering a little sideways. Oh, it had felt so good to knock the writer down… He was breathing heavily, fists clenched as he glared at the man at his feet. This bastard was the reason his best friend wasn't whole, the reason Shuichi was so lost and behaving in this strange and secretive manner. The mess of it was driving him up the wall, and it was all because of this damnable man. He wanted to hit Yuki-san again, but he restrained himself and, shaking, hissed,

"What the hell are you doing here? Shuichi could have seen you!"

"He isn't here, Nakano," Carefully getting up, Yuki-san blinked and shook his head as if to clear it, swaying on his feet a little. "He's with my brother."

Hiro narrowed his eyes at the man, momentarily distracted by the idea that Yuki-san had been keeping tabs on Shuichi. He glared through the slits, "he isn't yours anymore."

Finally refocusing, Yuki-san met the guitarist's gaze. "I am worried about him."

Rolling his eyes at the sheer audacity of the man, he snarled, "You bastard, how dare you utter such hypocritical bullshit!"

"Yes, I'm a bastard!" Yuki-san snarled right back. "And this bastard is here to speak with you."

"Me?" Hiro blinked stupidly.

"Yes," the writer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I…" he growled a little, sounding nervous. He pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket and lit it. Taking a long drag on the stick he spoke again. "I want to know about him."

Hiro stared incredulously.

Yuki-san shrugged, continuing, "About his past, what he was like."

Disbelieving the downright lack of shame and complete impudence of the man before him, Hiro turned and retreated into the house, slamming the front door shut behind him. There was no way he was going to even dignify that with a reply.

Yuki-san continued speaking from outside, standing against the door, "I want to know him through your eyes."

Speaking slowly, enunciating each insult carefully, Hiro snarled, "You're a sad and misguided fool, an utterly self absorbed and unrealistic, cold hearted bastard!" He was more annoyed than he could ever have thought possible.

"I know," replied the novelist beyond the door.

Surprised at the admission, Hiro snorted, feeling freshly enraged that the words had had almost no effect on the man.

"When you can spare some time, please call me." Yuki-san sounded weary. "I know that I am asking for something from you and I know it is a favour--"

"I have no reason to do you any favours!"

"You have no reason to help me," the novelist calmly agreed, infuriating the guitarist further.

"Damn right I don't," Hiro scoffed, turning away.

"But you do have a reason to help Shuichi."

He paused at that.

"And I want to help him."

Growling, Hiro snatched the door open and faced the writer once more, "You were the one who started this in the first place!" He could barely restrain his fury, the effort of it contained by the fact he had just broken his promise to Shuichi. He had promised, as had K, Ryuichi and a few other people, to never lay a hand on the writer. He was seeing red, almost dizzy with his rage, as he spoke, "You fucked some whore for physical gratification at the cost of your relationship with one of the most loving and—" he broke off suddenly before continuing with, "And you want to know him through my eyes?!" He shook his head with enraged humour at the idea. "What kind of screwed up fool are you?"

Eiri sighed and looked, if Hiro could believe his eyes, angrily chastised. The writer finally spoke, sounding frustrated and sad,

"There is little I can do to change the past and if you really must vent your anger, wouldn't you feel better pounding the insults into my body because right now, that would be easier to handle."

The implications shut him up. Hiro would not have thought it possible for the writer to be hurt by words. After all, since when did Hiro's words count for anything in the man's mind? He didn't want to know the answer to that. He relaxed a little, some of his anger ebbing away and calmly said, "Get out of here before someone sees you."

There was a flash of hope in those golden eyes, a moment before the novelist politely bowed and left, murmuring, "Thank you for your time, Nakano-san."

Shutting the door, Hiro turned and made his way across the foyer, down the hall and to the room he spent the most time in after the music room in the basement, the recreation room. It was a large and spacious area separated by a wall and door from the living and dining room. In the recreation room were K's fooseball table, Fujisaki's training mat and Hiro's much-needed punch bag. Stripping and warming up, Hiro attacked the bag, losing himself in the effort and in his thoughts.

How dare Yuki-san?

His voice, his inflection, and even his attitude had all changed. There was something about the man now but whatever it was, Hiro believed it would never be enough. Something was seriously wrong with Shuichi now and that man had no business messing it up further. Shuichi was one of them and that writer had been trouble and heartache for them all since Day One. If anything, he would do his damnedest to keep the man as far away from his best friend as he possibly could.

Rehabilitation and therapy huh, that would make him a certified nut case, wouldn't it? It just added to the growing list of why they should not be together. He would side with Fujisaki on this one, the notion that something was wrong with Shuichi long before the incident with Yuki. Whatever that reason was, it needed his full attention. It was imperative that they figure things out and get it all sorted because none of them had any idea what else could be done. That was their one avenue of hope at the moment.

And Yuki-san was the other.

Shaking his head, Hiro chuckled humourlessly at his own idiocy. There was no way that man could help Shuichi. Not now, anyway. He could remember the day he stopped believing, stopped knowing that Yuki-san would be enough for Shuichi to quit wasting away. It had been about a month before Shuichi had gotten his act together and stepped back into the media spotlight. Hiro had wanted to give Shuichi a private celebration before the boy disappeared off for his Christmas vacation, and the brat had requested that they stick to tradition: getting gloriously drunk on sake,

"Did you ever think he would come for me?" Shuichi had asked, looking up at the stars from within the bundle of a down-filled quilt. They were sitting outside in the little second floor terrace of the Bad Luck House.

Hiro had snorted, "That idiot had better not or I'll—" Shuichi turned away but he had caught the expression on the boy's face. "You want him to come for you." Hiro half murmured the statement to himself, eyes widening with surprise, the ramifications of that realisation hitting him very hard.

Shuichi turned back to face his best friend, now with a sad but resigned look on his face. He gave a small half-smile, shaking his head a little at his own silliness.

"You do really still love the bastard."

Shuichi smiled that sparkly smile which surfaced only when his guard was weighed down by liquor. His voice was only just laced with his usual melancholy when he piped up with, "Not that it helps any!"

Considering the boy's words, Hiro asked, "Do you want him to come for you?"

Shaking his head though eyes revealed what he truly wanted, the singer stated simply, "He won't."

"Did you never expect him to?" Hiro asked softly, feeling a bit useless knowing he hadn't helped his best friend make progress getting over the man or the betrayal.

Shuichi sighed, turning to look up at the stars again. A soft smile, now dark with anguished resignation, crossed his face as he whispered, "I had hoped he would, that maybe he might think it's his turn…"

His turn.

It had always been that way with Shuichi. When he lost his self-belief, there was someone to go fetch him, tell him that it was a temporary feeling, and assure him of his place in people's hearts. The little moppet had only ever needed to matter to those he loved. A friend, a family member, just someone close to him was good. He only needed to know that someone cared, enough to tell him that everything would be alright.

And they had all had their turns, Hiro most of all. Tatsuha, Ryuichi, K and even Fujisaki had come in to share the responsibility. How could they not when Shuichi had been there for them so often in the past two years? By comparison, a pat on the back, a smile, and a little encouragement was very little to ask for in return for all the love and goodness the singer brought into their everyday lives. They had foolishly thought it was enough, that these small gestures would suffice to show the boy that he was exactly where he belonged.

Thumping the bag harder, Hiro considered the possibility that all Shuichi had wanted was for Yuki-san to tell him he belonged; that they belonged together. The novelist had never expressed emotions to Shuichi, he knew that much. So why would that bastard be what Shuichi truly wanted? Why would the man be simply precisely all that Shuichi really wished for? Hiro growled to himself, pausing to hang his arms up on the bag loops for a rest.

He would never understand how Shuichi could never seem to escape that enigmatic novelist.

(1) White Day is approximately thirty days after Valentine's Day. In Japan, girls give gifts to the boys on Valentine's Day, and the gesture is returned on White Day.

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