Chapter Three

He leaned back in a giant office chair, a chuckle, soft and light, his smile leaning into the phone as he said "Of course. It will be taken care of." The voice was soft and calm. He hummed into the phone as a few minutes of silence passed on his end.

"I'll do what I can. I assure you, he will be… motivated… to do as we ask. Yes. Thank you for your time." The phone made a click as he placed it upon the receiver with a satisfied smirk. Thoughts wandering, he began to fiddle mindlessly with his gloves.

"Hmm. Motivatedindeed." And he laughed again.

Shuichi swiveled a pocky stick from one side of his mouth to the other. He was slumped with his legs crossed on the floor, a phone crooked between his shoulder and jaw. He sucked on the strawberry coating and sighed. "Well, exactly Hiro. It just wasn't like him at all."

"I don't know Shu, people do change. Ya know?"

Shuichi made a sour face. "Not him. I lived around him for three years, nothing changed. Except the fact that he wanted to leave so badly."

"Maybe that's just it. He needed a way out."

"Why?"

Hiro sighed, and paused. The hesitance scared Shuichi for a moment. Did Hiro know something he didn't about Yuki? "Shu, you are my best friend. I mean that, you know I do. But what I want you to know is that sometimes you are a little over-bearing. You get to into people when they'd just rather have a moment alone." Hiro sighed again; Shuichi could just picture him running a hand through the long red hair. "You get me Shuichi?"

"Ya… I guess I understand it now…" There was no doubt now that he was thinking of it. Shuichi saw in hind-sight, that he was a little bit poke-ish and pry-ish about other people's business. Especially Yuki's.

Always right there. By your side. A faithful puppy.

Ick. He didn't want to be faithful anything. The image of himself pining uselessly at anybody's side made Shuichi feel nauseous. He shoved the thought from his mind and went limp, lying on the floor like a sack of potatoes. He crunched on the pocky and sighed.

"Shuichi…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you were being a little harsh?"

Shuichi stared at the ceiling with a hard pound thudding against his chest. "No, I really don't Hiro."

His best friend paused and Shuichi could swear he heard the guitarist sigh with exasperation. "I gotta go Shu. See you Monday."

"Yeah. Bye Hiro."

The phones clicked off simultaneously. Shuichi laid the phone next to him and continued to stare at the ceiling. His heart slowed down again, but his mind was racing.

After a while he stood and shuffled away to bed.

Meanwhile, Hiro set his phone upon the receiver. Without turning, or even removing a finger from the handset, he shook his head. "I tried."

"That's all I could ask of you."

"Don't you think your going to end up hurting him? In the long run I mean?" Hiro turned to face his guest, accusation turning his gaze hard. "Maybe you left for a reason. Maybe you're separated for a reason."

"Weren't you the one who told me, if I ever made him cry for something other than his own stupidity, you'd come back for me? To hurt me."

"Yes." Hiro replied warily, unsure of the reason for this conversation.

The taller man retreated from the living room, grabbing his coat and keys. "When you left on that motorcycle of yours, I replied."

"Oh? What did you say?"

"Shouldn't grind it in gear like that."

And he left.

Hiro stood in the middle of the room, staring at where his best friend's captor had been moments before, listening as the door snapped closed with finality.

That statement had more meaning than just reference to motorcycles and gears. Because even though Hiro could distinctly remember grinding his motor that night, (for emphasis of Eiri's dangerous situation, had Hiro ever needed to come back and fulfill his threat) he also believed that the stoic author had put deeper meaning into the phrase. It wasn't meant as a criticism. It was meant as a metaphor.

Nobody was going to tell Eiri Yuki what to do. Hiro, being the second gear, wasn't aloud to interfere. Second gear shouldn't have been on that night, in Eiri's eyes. It didn't make total sense, but then again this man was poetical. Even when he didn't mean to be.

Eiri had been telling him to stay out of it. He'd been telling him to let Shuichi fight his own battles. But Hiro sat and sighed, thinking bitterly to himself, about just how much he was willing to head the man's warning.

Shuichi wasn't ready to win this war.

And Hiro wouldn't let him fight this battle.

End-3