Chapter 15

The Pink Moppet

RE-EDITED VERSION

"These are your own copies, take care of them. For the moment, have a look through and let me know if you recognise anyone."

In their little corner dining area of the restaurant, Mika pulled out four envelopes of photographs. She took one for herself and passed the others over to Hiro to her right who took one and passed the rest to Suguru to his left who handed the last envelope to Tatsuha across the table.

Mika placed a two-inch thick arch lever file before her at the head of the table, tabs marked by date. It was filled with photographs such as they held, each section containing notes, jottings and observations. According to her, the reports were each vague and unassuming but the end result was the same. It was obvious that whatever the hell Shuichi had been up to half the time this past week's worth of vacation, it was not all… clear.

At the risk of sounding cliché, Suguru would say the singer was leading some sort of a double life. He smirked a little to himself at the current photo in his hand, one of Shuichi sitting very close to an NG producer he recognised. Mattieu Sjolund, who had been introduced to them at the Semblance of Self album launch party, really did bear a slight resemblance to a certain novelist. Well, not too much of a similarity. Otherwise how would the press have taken such glee in pointing out the person in Shuichi's company was NOT the writer.

Poor Shu.

"I've seen this girl around NG a few times," Suguru said, pointing to a slender brown-haired girl who'd been photographed accompanying Shuichi into his car. "I'm pretty sure she works at NG."

"She does," Mika confirmed, flipping to the tab marked 'Known Associates' of the file before her. "Her name is… Hinamori Sachiko-san."

A few more people in the photographs were accounted for and 'crossed off'. Some shots were even of them.

Then they got to eight of the tagged photos. They showed Shuichi entering NG, or heading into a building for a meeting, but which were noted as 'entry only'. The investigator had never seen Shuichi leave, only to hear off the news that the singer had been spotted somewhere else a little later. Shuichi occasionally was a slick fellow to follow and, as a result, there were unaccounted periods in the singer's day. There were also photographs of Shuichi entering and leaving the hospital.

"The medical bit is where things get a little tricky," Mika said, tossing a foil sheet of pills onto the table. Four of the eight pills had been popped out. Hiro picked the sheet up, a questioning look on his face, not understanding. Mika nodded at the meds, "Those are painkillers; extremely powerful prescription-only painkillers. Think freight train on steroids, not that those have any steroids in them, but by comparison make my three-hundred milligram over the counter ibuprofen look about as strong as my pinky."

Tatsuha whistled, "Powerful punch packers, then, hmm?"

"That's right." Mika frowned, "VERY powerful."

"How'd you get these and how are they related to Shuichi?" Suguru asked, brows furrowed. He hoped this was not where it was going.

"Those are from the back pack Shuichi left at Eiri's the day he walked out," Mika explained. "Two were already gone when I got a hold of that, the other two I'd sent over to a lab. As you can see, there is no labelling on the backing foil." She glanced at Hiro, who had gone pale.

Shit.

"Hiro?" Suguru prodded. The guitarist seemed to be having trouble composing himself. The keyboardist could understand, these were powerful drugs… Shuichi was taking them. Test drugs of all things, how could they not be worried? But this was not the time for that.

"Usually means it's a test drug," Hiro said thoughtfully, still dazed. He turned the foil pack over in his hands a bit, "Or a placebo."

"It's a test drug," Mika confirmed. "The kind my contact has no sources on, which worries me. But that's not all."

"There's more?" Suguru shifted in his seat. This was already a lot on their plates.

"Those meds have emotional stabilizers and nervous-system specific ingredients." Mika sat back in her chair, elbows propped and her fingers in a steeple as the two musicians had seen Seguchi-san do so often. "This stuff is, to put things plainly, serious shit."

Poor Hiro looked floored, passing a nervous hand over his face.

"Eiri-san?" Suguru asked ,watching his band mate out of the corner of his eye.

"Not his and he doesn't know a thing," Mika replied, eyeing Hiro. "What about you?" Hiro looked up at Mika, surprised then glanced over at Tatsuha who waited expectantly with an intense gaze.

"I don't know anything about this!" the guitarist exclaimed. "Shuichi never said a word to me about being on medication."

"I'd have thought you of all people might know," Tatsuha said, looking puzzled. Suguru frowned at the insensitive young monk.

"Well, I don't! We don't talk about this stuff much anymore. I just think, since he's seeing a therapist, she might have…" he looked uncomfortable. "She might have put him on this." Suguru frowned a little at him. Emotional stabilizers? Nervous system medication? Yeah, right.

"It's possible," Mika acknowledged with an inclination of her head. She flashed her brother a warning look to back off. "But I have the feeling it's not that simple."

"You already told Aniki about this, huh?" The young monk prodded at his sheaf of photos before him on the table. The young monk was oblivious.

"I told him as soon as I found out." Mika selected and unclipped a profile from her folder and handed it to Hiro. Once it had been passed around and returned, all three young men looked up expectantly.

Mika said, "I take it none of you know who he is, then."

"Should we?" Hiro and Tatsuha asked together. They spared each other only the briefest of glances.

"I had hoped," Mika admitted. "There hasn't been enough time to find out much about him or a few more of these people."

Suguru's watched her carefully, aware that she had just carefully pulled the conversation away from discussing the suspicious medication. There was something not quite right about Hiro's nervousness on the matter, either. But that could wait until later.

"First on my list," Deliberately ignoring Suguru's gaze, Mika picked up her coffee cup. "Is to find this Hinamori-san girl and find out why she's been around Shuichi so often. And what else she knows." She took a leisurely sip.

"Hold on," Suguru tore his eyes away from Mika and turned toward Hiro, to his right, "You said 'she' specifically."

"Huh?" Hiro turned to regard his band mate.

"You said Shuichi's been seeing a therapist and 'she' might have put him on these meds," Suguru clarified. "Shuichi has talked to you about his therapy?"

"Well, yeah, a little," Hiro admitted. "But not very much and only when I ask. Her name is Katsuko Naoki-sensei, she has a hospital-based in and out-patient practice. I think she works for one of the departments." Mika sat back in her seat and pulled out her phone, which was buzzing.

"And you didn't see her in any of the photos?" Tatsuha pressed, over the sound of Mika's quiet conversation.

"I don't know what she looks like," the guitarist shook his head. "I've never met her. Shuichi just told me the bare basics about her."

"But thankfully, someone has recognised that red-haired kid," Mika said, dropping her phone back into her bag before snatching up one of Tatsuha's photos from the table. "This guy," she pointed to the tall young man standing next to Shuichi at a park crepe stand, "Is a dancer. By some stroke of luck someone from the investigation company says he's spotted this guy on a club promotions board. Some dance-off thing, and there's another show tonight."

"I'll go," Tatsuha offered. "I'm less… known." Surprisingly, there wasn't a trace of mischief on the monk's face.

"Go where?" Asked Eiri, stepping through the archway into their dining area.

"The club where this kid will be so we can find out who he is," Mika said, holding up the photo in her hand which Eiri snatched up and studied as he passed to take his seat. She received the photo back, returned it to Tatsuha then handed Eiri his envelope of copies. As he pulled the photos out, he wordlessly nodded acknowledgements to the three young men.

"I've seen him before," the writer said, shuffling through his copies. "That fire-head kid, I saw him with this girl--" He pulled out and held up a picture of Hinamori-san, "—outside a hospital with Shuichi." He went back to studying the photos and the attached notes. Suguru thoughtfully leaned back in his seat, cradling his chin with his left hand, tucking his right hand beneath his left elbow.

"When was that?" the keyboardist asked calmly. Eiri didn't even look up.

"I only saw them in passing," the writer said, attention focused on his photos. "Just under two weeks before the tour, when I went to fill one of my prescriptions."

"Shuichi could have been doing the same thing or had an appointment with his therapist," Hiro said, nodding a little. "But Fire Head and Hinamori-san are rather… close to Shuichi if they were accompanying him. Regardless, Hinamori-san is now definitely a solid lead. Now if we can just get a hold of Fire Head…"

Suguru glanced concernedly over at Hiro who throughout the meeting had steadily looked like he was not taking any of this very well. Worried, the synth-master slid a hand under the table over and pressed his fingertips into Hiro's arm. The guitarist offered back a small nod.

"I'd like to touch base with Hinamori-san if I see her at NG again." Suguru said, studying a shot of the girl. "But I won't mention anything about Shuichi. I want to see what she says."

"Well, I will most definitely be asking after Shu," Mika said. "I'm heading back to NG in a while for a meeting, then hunting her down." She lifted her elbows off the file before her when Eiri tugged at it, continuing his study. "She knows the dancer boy and about Shuichi's business at the hospital. She'll make a good source, I'm sure of it."

Poor Hinamori-san, Suguru thought sympathetically, afraid for this unsuspecting girl who would be backed into a corner by Seguchi Mika of all people.

"I'll see if I can talk to Shu about his therapy," Hiro volunteered. "I'm honestly curious about it, and maybe I can find out a little about these meds." He handed the foil pack back to Mika. "I won't mention knowing about these, however. Not yet."

"And I want to talk to Tohma," Suguru said softly. Everyone paused, staring at the keyboardist. "He might let me in on what Shuichi has been working on. And I'll talk to Shizune-san, too."

"The Jubilee singer?" Hiro asked. His expression cleared a moment later, "For more information about Shu's work directly for NG, right, I get it…"

"Good," Mika nodded. "This is looking good. But we only have another two days before the tour continues, so I expect results." Her eyes flashed at them; Eiri ignored her, still reading the file.

"Is the investigator still on Shu's tail?" asked Tatsuha.

"Yes," Mika replied. "He is and will be until the band leaves."

"You know," the monk began thoughtfully, leaning forward onto a forearm. "Ryuichi happened to mention to me that there are ways to get in and out of NG without anyone knowing. Sometimes you only need the right access codes to certain doors, if not simply riding out of the underground parking lot in a different car."

"He told you this?" Mika sat up straight, a little tense. "How did he come to volunteer this information?"

"We were just talking about how he could get away from Tohma if I ever asked him out on a date," Tatsuha explained, his small smile fading. He looked wary of Mika's sudden seriousness, and Suguru's gaze. Even Eiri had paused from his reading to look up at him. "I didn't say anything about Shuichi, his name didn't even come up."

"It didn't need to," muttered Mika, Suguru and Eiri simultaneously, in the same weary tone of voice. The three exchanged knowing looks. Hiro and Tatsuha, on the other hand, traded confused glances.

"I don't--" Tatsuha started.

"Don't worry about it," Suguru said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's not a problem."

"What could have been a problem? It's just Ryuichi," Tatsuha prodded, looking a little puzzled. Hiro, however, sat back in his chair after Suguru flashed him a small smile. It warmed Suguru's heart to see Hiro had only needed his reassurance to trust that things would be alright.

"Never you mind," Mika snapped mildly at her youngest brother. Suguru and Eiri rolled their eyes.

"So now we have that other nut bar to worry about," Eiri's lip curled a little at a shot of the 'nut bar' in question with an arm companionably slung over Shuichi's shoulders. Suguru knew which photo it was, and how it looked. Ryuichi was standing with his body pressed to Shuichi's side from shoulder to knee. He had thought Eiri might react this way and it was rather funny, though it was probably wise of him to hide his amusement if he valued his skin.

Very wise, he thought, when Eiri outright glowered at another photo. Suguru had been smiling a little at that particular photo earlier, of Shuichi and Sjolund-san, considering the producer's resemblance to the writer. That look on Eiri's face meant nasty business, and to think all it took was seeing Shuichi sitting close to Sjolund-san to bring it out. It was obvious the writer was still rather possessive of Shuichi.

Because the synth-master had been watching, he noticed Eiri sigh. A sad but resigned expression flitted across the writer's face before returning to that indifferent mask he wore most of the time. Suguru wondered, and not for the first time, if Eiri really would be able to convince Shuichi he was sorry.

One more chance, Suguru thought, one more chance could be all they needed for them both to find happiness.

"Voices tell me I should carry on,

But I am swimming in an ocean all alone…

Baby, my baby, it's written on your face,

You still wonder if we made a big mistake

I try to go on like I never knew you,

I'm awake but my world is half asleep…

I pray for this heart to be unbroken,

But without you all I'm going to be is Incomplete

I don't want to face this world alone,

But I need to let you go…

I try to go on like I never knew you

But without you all I'm going to be is, Incomplete…(1)"

…Someone else's words saying clearly and precisely what he felt. Shuichi stood with his eyes closed, letting the tears run down his cheeks. It hurt to say such things, never mind it was in English and he didn't speak the language well; he knew what he was saying.

Knowing Eiri was watching him say these things made him want to never open his eyes again. It made an ache throb in his chest, made his self-consciousness peak. Thankfully, Hiro came over and pulled him close, stepping between him and the glass wall of the studio.

Suddenly, somehow, Shuichi felt better. Like things were just going to be alright; Hiro had always had that power. Hiro always seemed to know when Shuichi needed him to step in. When his best friend held him like this, it felt good and he felt safe. Like even if he couldn't hold his life together, he knew someone would hold HIM together for him. Really, it was his love for Hiro, these people he cared about, and the way they showed him they needed his love, that kept him sane.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"No worries, buddy," Hiro muttered into his hair, pulling the singer closer still.

Shuichi smiled. Hiro being like this, quiet, not prying and not asking difficult questions… he knew it was probably killing his best friend. He had to explain himself soon.

Soon.

He pulled away only a little, but Hiro released him immediately and stepped away; unthreatening, without insistence, carefully polite. Shuichi appreciated it so much, looked up into Hiro's worried eyes and murmuring, "If it wasn't for you, I don't know…" his voice failed, breaking.

Hiro's brows drew together, and a hand reached for him. It was apparent the guitarist could see how much Shu was suffering. There was worry in Hiro's grey eyes, but a tinge of exasperation and frustration as well. This was not looking good. Shu smiled, trying to assure his best friend that all would be well. Gods, Tohma did this so well all the time. He ought to have learned better from hanging out with that man for so long; he should be stronger than this.

With that in mind, the need to be strong, to protect those he loved, Shuichi stood up straight. He squared his shoulders, put his calm smile in place and stepped away. He was glad rehearsal was over, that the song, Incomplete, had been saved for last. He could leave and it would be okay, it would not be evidence of his weakness.

They were at NG, doing a last minute rehearsal for the concert. It was the first working day after the week's vacation, March the 10th, and they would be leaving for Toyama in a few hours.

Making his way down the hall of the studio, Shuichi nodded to thanks and greetings. Stepping into the empty lounge, he plodded over to the shelf in the corner where he'd left his bag. He wanted something sweet to eat, something comforting and reassuring. The medication he was on made him a feel like he was high on something, but without the pleasant lightness. Instead, though it didn't hurt, he could feel his heartbeat thump behind his eyes.

He dimly heard the door shut behind him, delayed somehow. It was when he heard the lock snap that he paused a moment then turned.

Eiri.

"Hey," Shu gave what he knew was only a wan smile. He carefully pulled his hand away from massaging between his eyes.

"That song hurt," the writer said.

"I wasn't singing it for you," Shu turned his back.

"I didn't mean me," Eiri said. The singer heard the snap of a lighter and smelled the familiar scent of Marlboro cigarettes.

"Oh," the singer muttered, ignoring the hollow sensation filling his chest. He moved slowly toward the shelf again, but Eiri stepped into his path.

"Why do you isolate yourself, Shuichi?" he asked softly. Eiri looked serious, worried, annoyed and concerned all at once.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" Feeling annoyed, Shuichi attempted to push past the writer. Bigger and stronger, Eiri couldn't be easily budged. Shu sighed, "Please move."

"Not until you answer my question," Eiri insisted calmly. "I'm worried about you."

"Stop saying things like that," Shuichi said wearily, closing his eyes and bringing up a hand to cradle his forehead with his fingertips. This was giving him a headache. Correction, it was making his headache worse. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"I can say whatever the damn hell I please," Eiri said casually, making Shuichi smile a little.

"You always did," he kept his eyes closed. "Anything at all, you said it." Even with his eyes shut, he could feel Eiri tense up.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It hurts, Eiri," Shuichi whispered, a little accusingly, half meaning his heart but also clutching his pounding head. He immediately felt himself being slowly wrapped in a gentle embrace. Turning his head, he let it rest on Eiri's shoulder. The writer rubbed his back soothingly and Shuichi breathed in the familiar scent of Eiri's Gin & Tonic cologne. A little while later, with a sigh, he pulled away, but smiled.

"Now move!" he said, eyes narrowing with mock severity. "You stand between me and my Pocky at your peril!" With a frown as fake as Shuichi's wrath, Eiri stepped away from before the shelf. Shuichi reached up to the top shelf and into his bag, to pull out his treat.

Unexpectedly, Shuichi felt the writer poke him under his extended arm and he let out a startled giggle, dropping the Pocky box. He gasped a moment later, eyes widening as he slapped a hand over his mouth.

"The hell was that?!"

"Nothing!" Shuichi snapped, bending, with a huff, to retrieve his Pocky.

"That was not nothing…"

Shuichi glared. And Eiri suddenly developed a very nasty gleam in his eye…

Self-protectively, the signer wrapped an arm around his middle, throwing up a hand to ward the novelist away. Taking a slow step forward, Eiri smirked evilly and raised both hands, fingers wiggling. Shuichi backed up a step and the writer matched him with a step forward.

"No…" the boy whispered, backing further away, fearful.

Eiri smiled.

"No!" Shuichi whirled and ran for the door. He made it two steps before the writer's left arm swept under his own, and grabbed him across his chest to clutch at the upper arm of his right. He was pulled fiercely backward, and crashed into Eiri's chest. Nearly immobile, he could do nothing as his attacker's right hand sneaked under his arm…

He screamed. An instant later, it melted into mad laughter as he collapsed. Kneeling on the floor, Shuichi twisted, breathlessly giggling, unable to wrench away or fight back.

"U-uncle!" Shuichi gasped, choking on his laughter. "Uncle!"

Eiri tickled the singer a little longer, chuckling, but quickly relented. He smiled down at Shuichi, the boy effectively pinned between the writer's arms and knees. Leaning back and looking up over his shoulder, Shuichi smiled up at Eiri.

"You've never done that before," the singer commented, smiling happily.

"You've never been such a brat before."

"Don't call me a brat!"

"Or you'll what?" Eiri wiggled his fingers threateningly.

Shuichi gulped, giggling nervously. He smiled and opened his mouth to speak but his cell phone rang and Eiri kindly let him go.

-

"Hello?" Shuichi's face broke into a big grin. "Hey! How's it going?"

Shuichi reached up, pulled his back pack from the shelf, and went to a nearby couch to sit down. Pulling out his notebook as he listened to whatever the other person was saying, the singer grinned like a loon.

"Sounds good! Have you spoken to them yet?"

Eiri wondered who it was, and why this person had the power to make Shuichi smile like he meant it. There was a nasty urge to grab the phone away from the singer and demand the other person… He shook his head. This was not good; jealousy was not a good thing.

But was it just him or was this smile not as bright as the one earlier, when he'd been tickling the boy…

"Uh huh, I know… No, I don't think so…" Shuichi scribbled in his notebook a little, obviously taking notes. "Ah, well that would be better… Yeah, I can do that… Okay, then!" He snapped his notebook shut. "I'll speak to Sachiko and have her call you right away, don't worry." After the goodbyes, Shuichi ended the call but immediately placed one of his own. He lifted his other hand to his temple and massaged a spot there but quickly dropped the hand a moment later.

Eiri pretended not to see… or listen.

"Hello, Sachiko!"

Ah-hah, her…

"I just spoke to Mattieu. He came up with some interesting plans for Jubilee and me, could you give him a call and sort out the details?" Shuichi paused to listen, again opening his notebook to write. "Okay… No, I didn't know about that… Did she reschedule me a time?" Scribble… the singer glanced over at him nervously but Eiri ignored it. "That's okay, then. I'll call her tomorrow, thank you. Bye!"

"So who is Mattieu and why does his name sound familiar?" Eiri asked casually. So he already knew who the guy was, there was no sense in passing up this chance.

"He's Jubilee's producer for their debut album," Shuichi replied, shoving his phone and notebook into his bag. Eiri noticed a familiar looking foil pack amongst the contents. "We're doing some work together on a few songs I wrote for the band."

"Sounds… interesting," Eiri muttered, pushing thoughts of medication out of his mind. He suddenly recalled the day he'd been out with Mika and heard about a blonde European producer Shuichi had been spotted with. He remembered how close the two had been sitting to each other in a photograph Mika's Investigator had supplied. Unpleasant sensations roiled in his stomach.

"Uh huh," the singer said sarcastically, chuckling. "I know he and I made the news a few times." He looked up as Eiri sat down next to him. "Someone said he looks a little like you and the press found that very interesting."

"Does he really look like me?" Eiri actually wanted to know, see if he was being compared.

"No."

"Good." The singer's answer had been firm, reassuring. He felt strangely better. He leaned back and put an arm casually across the top of the couch backrest. "How about Sachiko, who is she?"

"We work together on my NG stuff. You know, Toh--" Shuichi flashed Eiri a glance. "Seguchi-san doesn't always have time to take care of everything I do for him."

The singer looked rather ill-at-ease. And he'd been nervously shifting his weight a little since that talk with 'Sachiko', and his body language was closed, guarded. Not wanting the friendly air to chill, and seeing an opportunity, Eiri gestured for Shuichi to take the empty seat on the couch next to him. When Shu curled up, as he usually did these days, the boy's shoulders leaned on his arm. He would have preferred skin to skin contact but this was fine too. Shuichi looked so tired, and his eyes were a little red.

"Hey," he said moments later, no longer able to resist.

Shuichi turned to look up into Eiri's eyes with questioning eyes. There was a touch of pain there, too. A sadness that made his heart clench.

"Come here," he gestured with his other hand at the space vacant directly next to him. The corner of his mouth turned up, a very small, welcoming and friendly smile. Looking a little surprised but very willing, Shuichi scooted over and pressed against his side.

"Thanks…"

"Anytime," he prodded Shu's ribs teasingly, chasing away the hesitation. He enjoyed the warmth which crept into those purple eyes. "You know that, right?" he asked, tone a little serious.

"Yeah, I do." Shuichi smiled and, without a trace of reluctance, snuggled into Eiri's side a little. "Thanks."

Abandoning any sort of casual intention, Eiri moved his arm off the top of the couch and draped it over Shuichi's shoulders. He gently pulled the singer close and kissed the top of his head. Before Shuichi could stiffen from the show of affection, Eiri loosened his hold and leaned back into the couch, adopting a leisurely posture.

One step at a time.

In Katsuko Naoki's professional opinion, the good part about Shuichi was that he was cheerful, resolutely positive and refused to live in the past.

He had a lot of love to give, enforced by an amazing perception of the world that was… unique, in the psychiatrist's experience.

From having grown up in a loving and cheerful family he had been thrust out into the world quite suddenly. So unsuspecting; to be raped by a rival, and still yet further taken advantage of by the man he loved;, pushed out into the public eye so early in his spotlight of a career, for each movement and decision in his life since then to be subject to scrutiny and contempt… It must have taken sheer force of will to accept each of these demanding challenges and move forward without losing who he is and wishes to become.

She doubted anyone would ever really understand the power of that will, or Shuichi's passion. Who could grasp how he moved forward with a goal in mind, reaching for something that only he saw? His belief in himself was what, in her opinion, kept him on his feet. He simply believed that he would achieve what he had set out to do.

"I don't want to be what everyone tells me to be, what people think I should become," Shuichi had once told her, "Because I want to be just me, just who I am. And maybe if I'm lucky enough, I might make my own world… I might build something that I can believe in."

He knew it instinctively, as a child knows it can walk, that he would succeed. He somehow understood that he need only pursue his goal long enough to actually get to it –yet he never seemed to consider he might fail. Failure itself to him, it seemed, was a whole other story. Naoki considered what it might mean, to have your world snatched out from under your feet, to have the essence of who you are questioned. She wondered how one could live with that. For that was, she believed, was what Shuichi was going through.

He believed and had faith in his own decision and his heart… but was betrayed. The first time it happened, when he'd first received the news about his health, he had been able to move forward because he'd had someone to protect. He had made the decision to move past it for someone else's sake, driven by love and dedication. However, the second time, his lover's betrayal… It must have been shattering for him to realise that he could not count on something which he had previously considered infallible.

But he wouldn't talk much about it.

Yes, the good part about Shuichi was that he was cheerful, resolutely positive, and refused to live in the past . . .

It was also the bad part.

-

"I used to have a hard time writing songs," Shuichi admitted, his voice soft over the telephones line to Naoki's ears. "Apparently, all songwriters have that when the pressure starts, after the initial high fades. They either don't recover or they just pick up pace somewhere and people think it's because they've practiced." He sighed, his serious tone of voice strong and certain down the phone line. "They're wrong. It's because the writer has found inspiration. And they either hang on to it or get better at finding it." The singer paused, huffed a breath, then continued,

"Me, I found mine… or it found me, whatever. All I know is, I used to have just bits and pieces of music in my head… then when my inspiration came to me, the pieces all swooped in, melted together and concentrated themselves into this one essence, this one being. As far as I am concerned, that's the personification of my music right there. Music on legs named Yuki Eiri."

Naoki laughed, not unkindly.

"Have you ever told him this?" she asked.

"Never," Shuichi said, without a trace of wistfulness or regret.

"Will you ever tell him?" Naoki asked.

"I don't think so, Naoki-san," Shuichi sighed. "He wouldn't understand."

She almost sighed herself. "You do realise that I am all for you telling him all these things you have told me, don't you, Shuichi?"

"I know." She could hear the smile in his voice, "You've made your opinion clear."

"I have tried to ask a few times though you never really answered," She took a breath, hoping this might be the breakthrough she'd been aiming for. "But why will you not tell him? Why won't you try to let him in?" There was a long silence in which she did not hear him fidget or move on the other end of the phone. She was hoping, waiting, but it seemed this would not be the time. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off.

"I'm afraid," Shuichi said softly, hoarsely. He was crying. "I'm afraid to let him back in." Naoki sadly listened to Shuichi sob. "When I found out I was ill back when I still had him, I wanted to protect him… and he went into someone else's arms. My dishonesty was just that-- dishonesty. But that was all it took to drive him into betraying our relationship. My illness would be something beyond him, something he would have no idea how to deal with. It's ridiculous to assume that any good will come out of resuming my relationship with him, no matter how much I might want to."

"I apologise for pushing you to answer, Shuichi." Naoki felt an ache in her chest, a familiar one which indicated she might be too compassionate to the boy to help. She knew her limits, religiously kept within them and this was no where near her limit… but she still worried about the little singer. "And I'm sorry it hurts you so much. I hope for the best in all you plan for yourself."

"Can we stop now?" He sounded small and lost. Yet at the same time, there was a hint of controlled anger in his tone.

"Yes," She smiled, trying to infect her voice with her positive feelings, the same way Shuichi could sound heartbroken and miserable as he'd just done. "We'll talk again in a few days. Just because you're on tour, doesn't mean you can't continue with therapy. I want to help, Shuichi, you know that."

"Yes, Sensei, I do." He seemed to be regaining control of himself. "Thank you."

(1) Backstreet Boys, "Incomplete"

Review or comment, please!