19 – Making a Stand

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Eiri leaned against his car where it stood parked beneath the lamplight.

Facing the house across the street, he studied the building as he pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. The darkness was thick now, dusk long past, and the street was deserted. Free to observe in peace, he took a drag, the wind blowing the smoke away and tousling his hair.

It was just a normal little house, he decided, a standard sort of dwelling for any working class, salary-man's family home. He glanced to the each side of the house, noting how there really wasn't much difference between any of them along the street, not even to the rest of the houses he had passed on the way here.

The only thing that made this house, or even Yamanashi itself, special at all was that here was where Shuichi had grown up. That was the gate he had slammed every morning on his way to school and this was the street he had played in.

This was where Shu had become who he was.

There ought to be a plaque, he thought, to commemorate it. Then again, that would only draw attention to the little hidden truth, make it too public until the quiet joy it brought was reduced to something commercial and silly. He sighed, thinking about commerciality. Annoyed at how his thoughts had come full circle again, he frowned to himself. Shuichi's fans probably still know more about the singer than I do, he thought.

Drawn from his thoughts by quietly approaching footsteps, he straightened up and politely bowed to Shindou-san. When she came to stand before him, she looked him up and down carefully. She leaned close, a small smile on her lips as she studied his face in the moonlight.

He caught a breath of the soft rose scent she wore and glimpsed a familiar sparkle in her black eyes. Her soft brown hair was pulled away from her oval, cheerful face into a bun, a few loose strands softening the effect. She wore a blue, simple cotton dress over her slightly plump figure. She had a slight, slender build, making her look like an older, more peaceful version of Shindou Maiko whom Eiri had seen in a few pictures Shuichi kept.

They observed each other in silence for a long minute. After a nod, she told him, "You are more handsome, but also more sad in person." Coming to stand beside him, they leaned on his car together.

A while later, when his cigarette had burned all the way down and he'd crushed it beneath his heel, she said, "I listened to the recording. Thank you for bringing it to me. Seems my son has become… so very important now."

"I apologise for bringing this to your attention," Eiri said politely, "I am certain you would have preferred to hear it from him directly."

"I think it is only important that he's enjoying himself." She sighed then said, "But he isn't anymore, is he?"

The question seemed rhetorical so Eiri lit up another cigarette instead. After a while, he offered, "He was released from hospital early this evening, shortly before I left. My sister is minding him, as are the rest of the band, body guards and who-not. He's safe in bed at this moment."

She nodded. "K-san is supposed to be dropping him here tomorrow to spend the weekend," she told him, a smile in her voice and on her face as she watched him light up. "Before the concert in Kyoto."

Looking over, he watched her.

"Maiko's friends are coming over for a sleepover study session in the evening, however, so I don't think I can invite you to stay as well."

Eiri went back to smoking in silence.

"I appreciate that you want to spend time with him, but I think… he needs some time with his family." She seemed a little sad, "I would have preferred Maiko not bring strangers into the house when he is here, he is home so rarely, but she must study."

"School is important," the writer said solicitously. They stood in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

He was still rather nervous in the presence of Shuichi's mother, after having only spoken to her over the phone. They had only ever spoken one other time in the past, when she had called his home looking for Shuichi, unable to contact the brat on his mobile. That morning, panicked and disoriented with worry, he had called her. But that was before Shuichi regained consciousness and could ask everyone not to tell his family as they would only worry. At that, the writer called again to pass the message along and the kindly woman had promised she would not tell her son they had spoken… under the condition that Eiri come visit her.

When he'd first arrived, after they had bowed to each other, he had silently handed her the tape Mika recorded of the conversation between her and Bad Luck in Shu's hospital room. She had taken it inside her home when he turned away, indicating he would wait outside. Now was the first time they would really speak in person.

Shindou-san broke the silence, "How have things been between you two?"

Eiri considered the inflection of the question but there seemed to be nothing to it than curiosity. "Better. We're… friends."

"I see."

The writer would have sighed, wondering why the woman was so casual about his relationship to her son. She revealed nothing by neither her tone nor words.

"I understand you are close friends now," she mentioned. "Would you agree?"

"I hope so," he replied politely.

She smiled. Suddenly, she asked, "Does my opinion matter to you, where your relationship to Shuichi is concerned?"

He closed his eyes a moment before answering, very softly, "Yes."

"I see."

'You see what?' Eiri wanted to snap at her. He groaned internally.

She glanced over at him a moment before looking ahead again, commenting, "This must be frustrating for you."

Creepy, he thought, and resisted the urge to snap an agreement to that. He sighed, "A little."

"My opinion shouldn't matter so much, I think," she told him, her smile fading. "You should decide what you wish to do. And if it is to rebuild your relationship with Shuichi then you should consider both your reasons and his wishes." She sighed, "Your relationship should be for no one's happiness but yours and his."

Considering her words, he supposed it would be useless to ask her for her thoughts on their relationship now. She was right anyway, he thought selfishly and a little arrogantly, their relationship was no one's business but their own. But maybe, since the singer himself was his main worry…

"Now is there anything you want to ask me?" she offered.

Blowing the last breath off the second cigarette, he tossed it to the ground. Eiri told her frankly, "And what would I think of to ask now? I hardly know him, hardly know what to ask."

Shindou-san glanced at him briefly, concern in her eyes. But then she looked ahead and nodded, accepting his words. When Eiri lit up his third cigarette, he paused a moment before offering the pack to her. Surprising him, she took one and he lit it for her.

"I haven't smoked in years," she told him. Waving the cigarette at him she told him, "You mustn't tell Shuichi I did. He'd only worry. He was so happy when I quit."

Thinking back to the many times the singer had worried over him and this particular habit, he found that believable. But he had always thought Shuichi was too focused, had time and attention for only one thing at a time. The brat had never been good at multi-tasking, so where did Shu find the time to worry about his family living over in the next prefecture? The doubt must have shown on his face because Shindou-san smiled and said,

"He tries, you know?" She took a drag, her fingers twitching a little nervously. "It's a routine with him, he worries about Maiko for a while, then me, then his father. He makes… rounds." She waved her cigarette in a circle for emphasis. "He loves us all very much, so much that no matter what, when he has time he will always come back," she glanced over at the quiet writer, "and make sure we're alright."

Eiri thought about that then said, "He was always the one making things work, making sure that I was taken care of."

"But here you are making an effort for him even though he does not know it." She smiled at him, "Do you realise how much that raises you in my estimation?" Eiri's gaze snapped up to hers. Shindou-san held his gaze and said meaningfully, "It should always be appreciated, what a person does for another when the beneficiary will not find out. It's a show of one's character."

With a small snort he could not suppress, Eiri growled, "I could be manipulating the situation, you realise? After all, it does me good if I am in your good graces."

She admonished him, "Try to not show how jaded you are, Yuki-san."

"Uesugi."

"Pardon me?"

"My surname is Uesugi," he told her, "My real name."

She smiled then, the corners of her eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. The expression was very familiar. In that moment, he could see where Shuichi got his heart-stopping smile. She said, "I like that, Uesugi-san," then asked, "If I may ask, what does Shuichi call you now?"

"Eiri."

"That is good." She nodded, "As I recall, he always used to speak of you as Yuki. Did you really prefer that?"

He admitted, "Not really."

She blew out a lungful of smoke before saying, "I am glad for both of you, over the change."

They smoked in companionable silence until the sticks burned down and they ground them out. There now littered a number of butts about their feet but neither paid them any mind. He shoved his hands into his pockets, preparing to take his leave But Shindou-san reached out and laid a hand on his arm. Eiri met her gaze and paused, startled by the serious expression on her face and in her eyes.

She tilted her head at him then said, "Let me tell you something: He told me once you never told him you love him… But I think that you should know that he always knew you did."

"I don't think he knows it now." The words hurt to say, knowing that even telling the singer didn't mean he would be believed. "Not really."

She shook her head. "Shuichi has always loved fiercely and he is very loyal. He gives it as freely as there is air but to an extent… he expects some of that devotion in return." Shrugging, she said, "It's normal to feel that way, to want something back. He tries not to expect it but he needs people to love him, you see. For many reasons, he needs to be loved but I think he is like that also partly because of us, his family."

At his quirked brow she smiled, her other hand gesturing for emphasis and continued, "We have always loved him dearly because he was such a baby, so small and with so much energy, always attracting trouble but always so cute." Laughing lightly, she told him, "Even Maiko, in spite of being younger, has learned to take care of him and protect him. Hiro kind of picked up on it and loves him as much as a brother would, cares for him like a brother would."

The writer rolled his eyes.

Seeing this, Shindou-san laughed again. It was a melodic sound, and again Eiri spotted another similarity to his former lover. "Shuichi loves as fiercely, as intensely as we have shown him, I suppose." Her expression turned serious before she asked, "Do you think that a love like that fades easily?"

Eiri took a deep breath before gruffly attempting, "Do you…" Gods, this was hard, "Do you think that he could forgive me?"

Surprise widened Shindou-san's eyes before she told him, "He's halfway there."

Perhaps this was not the time to tell her he had asked for Shuichi's forgiveness, asked to let the singer have the time to consider it… and had been turned down, he thought. He nodded at what she said and looked away, rather disappointed.

As though reading his mind, she said, "It may not seem that way right now. But you of all people should know that regardless of what someone says, there are occasions when they mean something different."

"Isn't that confusing?"

She smiled and conceded, "It would be for someone like you."

Eiri could not help but chuckle wryly at her words.

"I think," she told him almost conspiratorially, "That the important thing is that we all have a bond."

He looked at her. Bond?

"It's what keeps us all close, friend or family no matter how far apart we are," she explained. "In Shuichi's case, no matter how long we have not seen each other, we support him and he supports us. When he can he tries very hard, we know every little gesture is a sign of being remembered and appreciated." She laughed, "Do you know he has the local florist bring me orchids sometimes? They're my favourites. He tries to cheer me up all the way from Tokyo and in spite of his busy schedule. He often makes time to post the florists an accompanying note to send with the flowers."

Eiri smiled faintly at the thought of Miho-san and the man's Tokyo flower shop. Shuichi definitely has a thing for flowers, he thought.

She said softly, "It's the little things that count sometimes, Uesugi-san."

Eiri shook his head but the memories still swept over him. The lilies Shuichi always remembered to tend to and keep fresh, the crème caramel dessert nights. He thought of the days his muse had been working hard and he'd lost track of time, when the kid remembered to bring home take-away for their dinner. The post-its Shu left for him reminding him to drink enough water and eat properly, the grocery shopping Eiri had almost never seen the singer do… had it not been for the mysteriously perpetually stocked pantry…

Smiling, Shuichi said, "It's the little things that count sometimes."

"If that is true," growled Eiri, "then why are you still bothering me, still living with me, if I have done nothing for you?"

"Because you do!" the singer argued. "You do lots of little things all the time, you don't even know it!"

Hmph. With a scowl, he glared at the kid. Instead of being frightened or discouraged, Shuichi laughed lightly, softly… Such a sweet sound, Eiri thought. He went cold inside thinking about how he was certain to destroy this beautiful creature. It really was only just a matter of time. He stared in awe at this amazing person, wondering how much longer he would have the kid in his life. However long it would be…he would be very grateful for what time he could have...

"Like when you look at me like that," Shuichi pointed out.

Eiri looked away with a frown.

"When you look away…" Shuichi murmured. Slowly, the singer slid closer, movements languid and sensuous. The writer could not help but watch out of the corner of his eyes, the grace in the singer's body screaming for his attention. "When you watch me like that…"

Shuichi crawled into Eiri's lap and the writer gave up all pretences. He curved his hands around the boy's hips and grasped him in place, before pulling the young man closer; he brought Shuichi's body flush against his own. His eyes felt heavy and his breathing turned a little laboured. He could feel the liquid fire of Shuichi's touch skittering over his skin and dancing deliciously down his spine. Straddling him, the singer put both arms around his neck and bent toward his mouth.

"When you touch me like this…" Leaning in, Shu's smile turned blatantly sexually inviting. "And most especially when you kiss me," he whispered, lips just brushing Eiri's, "like this…"

Eiri shuddered a little at that particular memory. Sighing, he resigned himself and asked, "How do you tell when you have a bond?"

"I suppose," Shindou-san began thoughtfully, "when you feel loved and have shown that love in return. It's a give and take, always a give and take, because a bond must be tended to continuously over time. It requires effort but you must always retain realistic expectations." She gave him a pointed look. "After all, you can never ask for more than what you are willing to give."

Realising she'd just said almost precisely what his therapist had once told him, the words suddenly held a much larger possibility for truth to them. He was a little embarrassed to admit, "I… I don't know what that is supposed to be like… what it should feel like."

Shindou-san stared at him until he looked up and met her eyes. The hardness in them made him pause. She asked, "Did you immediately regret what you did?"

"Yes," he replied, a little stunned.

There was an edge to her voice when she asked, "Do you want to make him happy?"

"Yes."

"And now, do you miss being part of his life?"

"Yes." His voice was but a whisper now.

The woman smiled sympathetically and soon her smile turned warm again. The kindness returned to her eyes and she said softly, "Then maybe, you just didn't know you already had it."

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Tired and sleepy looking, Yuki-san stared down the barrel of a very familiar gun.

Strangely, Hiro observed, the writer didn't seem particularly threatened. Perhaps he might need more rest than anyone would have thought. Those eye bags under his hazel eyes were a little darker than he remembered. Well, after the past twenty-four hours, everyone was pretty shot, and no one was in much of a mood to deal with the crazy American Bad Luck called 'Manager'.

"What do you want now?" the writer growled, his expression turning dangerous. He was not in a sociable mood at all, this one.

"Hiroshi needs a ride to the airport," came the crazy-grin reply. The gunman had his usual morning cigarette clamped into a corner of his lips, his free hand plunked imposingly on his hip as thought without a care in the world… but his blue eyes glittered dangerously.

"And how is that, in any way, my problem?" Yuki sluggishly asked, turning his heavy-lidded gaze up to meet K's eyes.

"It wasn't a piece of information I wished to simply share, Yuki-san," said K on a low, warning tone of voice, "I said it because it is a problem and you will fix the problem."

"Over my--" Yuki suddenly stopped speaking. His brows un-furrowed and his eyes took on a different light then he mumbled, "Wait, did you say the words 'Hiroshi' and 'airport' in the same sentence?"

Smirking, K holstered his gun and turned for Shuichi's bedroom. "I'll mind the two other brats," the gunman called over his shoulder, "You get that one out of the way."

Surprisingly, Yuki nodded to Hiro. "Give me a few minutes."

Startled, the guitarist nodded, expecting Yuki-san to go freshen up or something. But the writer turned and followed K. Curious, Hiro went along, too.

"How is he?" Yuki-san asked softly, careful to moderate his voice around the sleeping singer.

"Fine, now. He just needs rest," K replied, also adjusting his vocal volume. Rolling his eyes, the American added, "And there was some mentioned about 'no stress' but I can't remember."

Yuki-san fired K a hard glare before turning back to Shuichi. The singer was curled up on his side with his legs bent, both hands lying curled before his chest. He slept as a child would. The writer sighed.

Hiro smiled to himself, thinking of all the mornings in the Bad Luck House early days when he would wake to find the little moppet in his bed all curled up just like that, and sigh himself. In sleep, the tension gone and his features relaxed in slumber, Shuichi looked five years younger, as though reverting back to the little kid Hiro had known. In their most troubled times, it was witnessing Shuichi in that state that had reminded Hiro his best friend was still there; which reassured him things would be alright.

Inching closer, Hiro wanted to get a better look. He would feel better seeing Shuichi calm and peaceful in sleep… or not.

Coming to stand just behind Yuki-san, the guitarist got a good look at Shu and rather wished he hadn't. He understood now why the writer had sighed now he felt one coming on, too. But it was a weary one.

Shuichi's posture was relaxed, but it seemed more reflexive for sleep than actually soothing. The tension was easily visible, especially on his face. His brows were a little furrowed and his lips pressed lightly together. Fine lines marred the corners of his lips and eyes, his eyes rolled under the lids as he dreamed. Sleep did not look restful for the little singer.

Yuki moved closer to the bed, coming to quietly sit down next to the sleeping body. He reached over and gently smoothed his hand over Shu's pink locks. Standing behind the writer, Hiro wished he could see the man's face. Then again, the tenderness of the movements did communicate Yuki-san's feelings rather clearly.

Dancing his fingertips one last time over Shuichi's jaw, Yuki pulled away. Shuichi muttered something in his sleep and K, who must have been within ear shot, looked sharply up at the writer.

Yuki-san ignored him, stood up, nodded to Hiro and turned right back out the door. Resisting the urge to ask what Shuichi had said, the guitarist scooped up his bag on the way out. In complete silence they rode down the elevator, made a quick detour to the breakfast room where they snagged large paper-cups of strong coffee before heading down to the parking level.

"Thanks for this, Yuki-san," Hiro said honestly, sipping his brew, "I really appreciate it."

"No problem." The writer smirked, "I get to personally dump you off with your girlfriend and keep the brat for a little longer to myself, how could I pass up the opportunity?"

Huh. So that was why. Scowling, Hiro remained silent until they were in the car. There, he turned to look out the window. Despite the early morning daylight washout, he sneaked a look at Yuki-san's reflection in his window. He watched the writer drive, ignoring his own passenger for the most part. Then the man pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped out a stick.

Turning back, Hiro said, "Er, if you don't mind?" Yuki-san offered the pack to him. "Ano, that's not what I meant. I was hoping you wouldn't smoke, Ayaka… hates the smell."

"Che!" Yuki snorted, but tucked the pack away into his pocket again.

Grateful, Hiro smiled. "Thanks."

"I'm holding out only for so long, Nakano." The writer growled, "But when I want my smoke, I'm having it whether Ayaka hates the smell or not."

With a sigh, Hiro leaned back, hoping the drive would not be as long as he feared. He wanted to snap back, wanted to say a lot of things, but the writer looked… exhausted. Up closer now, he noticed Yuki-san's eyes were a little bloodshot and the skin under them appeared bruised. Then there was that he was still wearing yesterday's clothes –it was obvious he'd had no sleep at all.

Well this wasn't his problem, he figured, even if the man was kindly bringing him to the airport. 'Kindly' huh? The writer had admitted to ulterior motives and it was K who'd asked, backed up by his guns. As if Hiro would never have asked Yuki-san on his own...

But Yuki-san was also helping, despite Shuichi holding him at arm's length. They were closer, those two, Hiro could see it. But there was still something in the way of them getting yet closer and it puzzled him. Whatever it was that Shuichi feared… whatever it was that was stopping the loving imp from reaching out, he hoped his best friend would figure out soon. He knew the singer loved this man. And it had become obvious to him that the writer really did care about Shuichi, he had seen it for himself. He would not have believed it had he not seen the writer's reaction and expression with his own eyes, being the one to break the news of Shu's collapse.

He had also noticed how in the past twenty-something hours, Yuki-san was smoking a lot more, was shorter tempered than before, and a hell of a lot more fidgety. The man really did care. But instead of the writer's behaviour finally putting his mind to rest, he had to wonder what really was going through the man's mind. If Yuki-san truly loved Shuichi as he suspected, why had the writer gone and cheated on his lover?

"What are your plans?" Hiro asked, suddenly. "With Shuichi, I mean? We knew he planned to leave after the tour, but it must have still been a bit of a shock to hear it from him, recording or not."

Yuki-san was quiet for so long Hiro thought he might never intend to answer. But then he sighed and said, "I don't know. I can only try to be there for him, I don't make decisions for him."

"What do you want now?"

"For now," Yuki-san growled, obviously not comfortable discussing these things, "I just want to learn more about him. Bond with him I guess, as stupid as that sounds. I have a lot to learn."

Annoyed, Hiro demanded, "Are you asking after him all the time because you're researching him? Evening the score? Or do you really want to know about him?"

Flashing the guitarist a dangerous glare, Yuki-san replied, "Not that it's really any of your business, I care a lot about him."

"I don't think you care about him enough, Yuki-san." Hiro said bluntly, folding his arms and turning to stare out the windshield. "I think you just regret losing your lapdog."

"Fuck you."

Unfazed, Hiro said, "Shuichi knows everything about you." He shook his head at the memory of his best friend's idiotic passion for the writer. "He was so always so excited he could barely sit still to think about ways to learn more. He… he loved you with the same sort of passion and focus he loves his music." He glared at Yuki-san's profile, "And you… you just…."

"It's rather shocking, thinking back to when I believed he was such an idiot," the writer said softly, expression smoothing, "And finding out that he has loved me all that time in ways that I am only now beginning to understand."

Stunned, Hiro stared. Well, of all the things he had never imagined he would hear from Yuki-san. Shit. Maybe, just maybe… "I am not sure that I trust you yet, you know."

Inclining his head, the writer told him smugly, "It's not your trust I'm after."

Hiro snorted, but a small smile crept across his face. The writer was just such a sarcastic son of a bitch. The car was pulling up the airport ramp-way and as Hiro gathered his bag, an idea occurred popped into his head and he asked, "Do you trust Shuichi?"

"What do you mean?"

"You want him back, don't you?"

Yuki-san paused then answered, "Yes."

"Well, getting him back means he will need to trust you with his heart again." A strange expression came over the novelist's face and Hiro sympathised. The guy really was clueless about relationships sometimes that he had to wonder how the man was such a well-known romance author. "Do you realise what that means?" Hiro asked softly as the car coasted to a stop. "I mean, would you trust him with your heart? Because anything less than a full jump is not going to amount to much anymore."

Shaking his head, looking surprised with himself as though not expecting he might mean every word, Yuki-san told him, "It's not that I don't understand what you're getting at. It's that I'm not sure Shuichi will let me close enough to get him to see he can trust me. That he won't even let me tell him I want to spend the rest of my life with him."

Author Notes:

Yay! Eiri is gearing up. Hopefully this will be my last Eiri POV chapter... for a while, anyway. Thanks for all the reviews, people seem to be speaking up a bit more now, which I love.

Really, if you have an opinion or a thought about how my work has made you feel, or on how you receive it, I love to hear about it. I have a beta who tells me what's wrong with my writing, I suppose what I am really looking for is how that work and effort I give is received (Thank you, Rikke...)

Suggestions are nice, too. I followed up on a suggestion and adjusted the summary... but if anyone else has any ideas on what it could be, do let me know. Oh, and this chapter has not been beta-read.

Thanks for reading!

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