Epilogue

What would you do to get back,

That which makes you who you are?

They had separated November twelfth.

They had gotten back together April twenty-second.

Six months ten days and fourteen hours. No, they weren't counting. Of course not, it just so happened they had figured it out after getting back together. Shuichi had remembered what day, and what hour of the morning Yuki had left. And Yuki… well… he'd been more for counting the days of his misery. Together, with a basic knowledge, they'd found the sum.

It was six months ten days and fourteen hours they'd never get back.

Shuichi remembered perfectly the weeks before. Yuki had gone to his study with a cold shoulder and emerged from it everyday late at night. He ignored Shuichi's pining, his questions, and his demands. The only time he acknowledged his lover was when they'd gotten into a shouting match that had left Shuichi in tears… and bruises. Yuki had left the house with every intent to get as far away as possible. But the instant he'd reached his car a second thought had hold of him and he was back in the house.

"Yuki… God, Yuki."

His pitiful moan. All Yuki had managed to say was 'what' with a gruff voice. And Shuichi had wanted him to leave, had screamed at him to leave. He hadn't, but Yuki made him promise to never let him come back, if he ever hurt him again.

Shuichi, his baka, had let him come back. He always would.

And Shuichi was just glad to have Yuki home.

There was a part of him that wanted to say enough was enough and let them have a real life away from drama. In away, Shuichi berated himself for being so weak. He couldn't stay away from this tall, uncaring man, even when physical and emotional torment was a constant in their lives together. They couldn't help saying hurtful words, or exchanging blows. Shuichi supposed it was just they way they worked, as dysfunctional and odd as it seemed.

In a way they both knew this wasn't good for them. Hell, it might never work out, it might be one of many break up and get back together moments in their relationship.

As of right now, neither cared, they needed each other in some sick fashion. Shuichi clung to Yuki, never wanting to let him slip back into a depression state of mind. Yuki just wanted this little brat to be his. They were the perfectly awful couple.

Weeks, almost months, were spent after the mend to figure everything out. All the metaphorical letters, the notes, the thought processes each had passed back and forth. Shuichi wanted to understand it all, Yuki wanted to know why. First was the envelope, full of letters from Yuki. One for every day they were separated.

The last one Shuichi had understood perfectly, all the rest, were mindless rambling with hints of love in the mix. Yuki took each one, read it aloud, and explained.

November 12th,

Please, please forgive me, but I won't be home again. Maybe someday you'll look up, and barely conscious you'll say to no one, "Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?"

You won't cry for my absence I know. You forgot me long ago. Am I that unimportant? Am I so insignificant? Isn't something missing? Isn't someone missing me?

If I bleed, I'll bleed, knowing you don't care.

And if I sleep just to dream of you, I'll wake without you there.

Isn't something missing?

Isn't someone missing me?

-Yuki.

"I was hurt." Yuki later explained. "I thought I wouldn't come back, that's the first line, you see it? I wasn't expecting you to ever let me come home. And then I was angry. I knew you'd try to forget about me and that you didn't really care that I'd left. You didn't even beg me to stay."

"Yuki I—"

"It's in the past." Yuki had said with a wave of his hand. "What's the next one?"

Each day they spent evenings over dinner and letters. The source of all the pain had to be somewhere, just waiting for them to wipe it away.

Sometimes Yuki wouldn't explain his notes. Often he said that he was drunk that night and he didn't know what he was thinking. One these occasions, Shuichi could almost see the fibs drop from Yuki's mouth to the floor, but he didn't say anything.

Sometimes the notes were only one or two lines.

December 25th,


Merry Christmas Shuichi.

-Yuki

It hit the teenage superstar at that moment; they had spent a whole Christmas apart. And Valentines Day.

February 14th

Happy Valentines Day, though you know I don't mean it.

Have fun with someone new. May they treat you better than I did.

-Yuki

He had wept for the lost memories.

And soon, it came time for Shuichi's envelope to be studied. Tohma had given it to Eiri after their chat in his office. It had been studied by Tohma and Yuki for some time, the President ranting about how out of control (and out of his mind) Shuichi was for wishing no extra help in the music business. Yuki didn't pay much attention to his thoroughly angered brother-in-law. Mostly the platinum blond millionaire was devising plots to have Shuichi jumped for daring to smack the perfect porcelain facial features of his boss.

The first letter in the envelope held a single message. One that Yuki would always remember as the message that almost… almost… made him cry.

Don't leave me again, I need you.

There was nothing really to it. In all actuality, it was a very simple plea for help. But the first bit implied they were already back together. Shuichi laughed at it now, wanting to crush that paper into oblivion.

"Doesn't make any sense, does it? In my mind we were always together. Some days you could have walked in the front door and I would have forgotten completely that we weren't speaking, or in contact, or even that I hated you." Shuichi shook his head. "I'm such an idiot."

Yuki laughed at him. "But you're my idiot, and that makes it okay."

Shuichi-goo-puddle. It was all over the floor, hearts popping up from the sludgy mess. "Yuki! You laughed."

It only made him laugh harder.

But there were other messages inside, ones Yuki had neglected to read after that first one. He'd instead made a mad dash to find Shuichi and get him back. But now, with plenty of time on his hands and Shuichi in his arms, they read the long letter of accusations, smeared by tear drops. The song lyrics encased by the envelope, and the drawings Shuichi had randomly created to show his hurt.

He didn't date them. But he remembered them perfectly.

He's a stranger to some
And a vision to none
He can never get enough,
Get enough of the one

For a fortune he'd quit
But it's hard to admit
How it ends and begins
On his face is a map of the world
(A map of the world)
On his face is a map of the world
(A map of the world)
From yesterday, it's coming!
From yesterday, the fear!
From yesterday, it calls him
But he doesn't want to read the message here

On a mountain he sits, not of gold but of shit
Through the blood he can learn, see the life that it turn
From council of one
He'll decide when he's done with the innocent

On his face is a map of the world
(A map of the world)
On his face is a map of the world
(A map of the world)

From yesterday, it's coming!
From yesterday, the fear!
From yesterday, it calls him

But he doesn't want to read the message here

On his face is a map of the world

"Don't ask me what I meant. I couldn't tell you, even if I tried." Shuichi smiled at the paper thoughtfully, then shook his head and stuffed it back in the envelope.

Yuki understood it though. But some things between them were better left unsaid.

The End

A/N: Well, aren't we all pleased? I ask you all, please tell me if you enjoyed. Was the ending rushed? Was it just right?

I wish I could thank every reviewer individually. You have all gotten me through when I really wanted to give up on this story. It was a joy for me to create it so you could read and love it as much as I do. I plan on having a new story up soon, and perhaps one for the Fruits Basket area of Keep on the lookout.

And now, for all you nice people who actually pay attention to what I'm writing, an alternate (or is it additional?) ending. Enjoy.

Tohma Seguchi was pleased.

The production level of Bad Luck had increased ten-fold, and Eiri was often at the studio dropping Shuichi off on time. It made for good chances at polite conversation, and better chances for inviting him in to talk privately. Most of the invites were declined. Some were accepted. Tohma felt that with the newly-knit couple back together, Eiri was taking better care of himself.

He kept out of the affairs of Bad Luck as much as possible, especially when anything came to Shuichi and his personal needs in the band.

And the form of revenge for a week-long bruise on his face, was a continuum of empty vending machines, depriving Shuichi on most days of his beloved strawberry pocky during his afternoon break.

Tohma took great pleasure that first day, watching as Shuichi hugged and cuddled, hit and slapped and begged and cried for the machine to refill itself. From the comforts of the security office with millions of cameras, he chuckled harshly.

A week later, the pocky was back and there was never an need for Shuichi's hysterics. One would be pleased to find it full everyday, ready for the J-Pop singer's yen pieces.

The Real End