Forgotten
Chapter Two: Nightmare

He dreamt of Eiri's eyes that night. The way they burned, a sooty gold containing anger and danger and hate. He dreamt of his voice, rough velvet, coming out as no more than a whispered growl. He dreamt of hot water, burning his skin and cleaning him of his sins, or maybe it was his past, he wasn't sure. He woke more than once that first night, screaming at the top of his lungs for redemption and forgiveness.

Hiro's fingers were at the back of his head, nails massaging into his scalp, cooling, calming, whispering sweet nothings to make him understand that it was all a dream, it was all a nightmare, it was all his imagination.

Shuichi didn't feel like it could possibly be imagined. He woke up and felt the fire all over his body, demons dancing in his blood.

And then it was Saturday, three nights since he'd been rescued by Hiro, and he was in a hospital.

"Hey sleepy." Hiro said quietly from his bedside.

Shuichi gave him a bleary glance, his eyelids to heavy to stay open for very long.

"I can't keep my… my eyes… open." He drawled.

"Still tired?" Hiro's incredulous tone was too loud.

"Hmm..."

A thrumming 'beep' sounded in the background as Hiro walked to the adjoining bathroom and retrieved a paper cup full of clear and cold water. Shuichi turned his head, it rolled lazily to the right and he peered at the machine monitoring his heart rate.

"What's all this for?" He asked, flapping his wrist in the general direction of the beeping machine.

"They're keeping close tabs on your health." He sipped at his tap water thoughtfully. "Dehydration, fatigue, hallucinations, pneumonia, and the beginnings of an infection in your stomach. They've got you so pumped with antibiotics I didn't expect you to wake up for a week." Hiro's joke was half-hearted.

"What's wrong with you?" Shuichi asked; the syllables trailing into hisses as his tongue gave out on trying to form words.

"I'm just worried about you, Shu. How on earth did you let yourself get so sick?"

He chose not to answer, instead closing his eyes and trying to get the beat of his heart out of his head, but there was nothing else to listen to. He hummed the tune of the Rage Beat slowly, but the rhythm was wrong and he lost his place.

"Shuichi?"

"Mmm?"

"Why are you so sick?" Hiro asked again.

"I dunno." Shuichi opened his eyes again. "Lost control."

"Control of what?"

"Everything."

Hiro stared at his band-mate, at his best friend, slipping into unconsciousness yet again. He didn't understand what could have happened, how it could have come to this. Infections, dehydration, hallucinations? When he'd retrieved Shuichi from outside Eiri's apartment, weak, feverish, coughing up small chunks of bile and water, he'd very nearly gone to kill the famous novelist that moment. The man had no business putting a kid as sick as Shuichi in the streets during the coldest fall on record.

But Shuichi had whimpered, his voice racked with pain, and all thoughts of revenge had left Hiro's mind for a moment.

Now they were back. Full force.

Unless there was a very good reason – and really, what kind of reason could there possibly be for something this hideous to occur – he was going to go after Eiri Yuki, and make sure this never happened again.

Shuichi, even with all of his faults was to perfect, to innocent, to be treated like this.

Hiro clenched his fists as he watched Shuichi snooze, and went to the front desk of the hospital trying to find the nurse.

"I think Mr. Shindo's medication is a bit off. He woke up, but was so delirious he couldn't really form cohesive sentences."

A nurse grabbed the chart and took a careful look at it. "I'm sorry sir; he'll have to be on that dosage for a while. His infections could spread and the antibiotics have to be able to do their job."

"Okay. About how long will it take for him to be weaned onto a lower dosage?"

"I'd say another week."

"Great." Hiro ran a hand through his long hair, perhaps for the hundredth time that hour. "Thanks."

The nurse gave him a kindly look. "Did he say what happened?"

Hiro stared at her. "Lost control." He quoted cynically.

She nodded. "It happens."

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen his type. The teenager living on drive and adrenaline and fame. There's a lot of support that goes into taking care of your body well under any circumstances, but being in the public light makes it that much harder to do by yourself."

"He's not by himself anymore."

"He's got you?" She guessed.

"Now he does."

"That's good." She smiled, so kind and friendly that his heart felt lighter, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift a fraction, and he smiled back. "If you'll excuse me," she said, "I've got some patients to look after. Take care."

"You too."

Hiro trudged back to the hospital bedside, trying to piece together his thoughts. Somehow he was going to need to explain to K why Shuichi was in the hospital, he was going to have to get Sakano to hold off on their recording sessions, get everyone to reschedule bookings. Probably for a long time, and nobody was going to be happy about it.

Hiro took his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and thumbed through the list of numbers until he met the one he needed.

"Seguchi Tohma, please." He said when a polite woman inquired to whom he would like to speak with.

"One moment sir."

There was a half of a ring and then Seguchi picked up. "NG Studios. How may I help you?"

"Mr. Seguchi," Hiro said quietly. "This is Nakano Hiro from Bad Luck."

"Good afternoon Mr. Nakano."

"Afternoon. I need to have a few favors placed for Bad Luck."

"Oh?" Tohma sounded relatively shocked that a band member was asking for a favor. His tone was intrigued, rather than patronizing, so Hiro continued.

"Shindo Shuichi is having a medical crisis at the moment. Bad Luck's due back at the studio this coming Monday and Shuichi is not going to be able to make it. Probably not for a few weeks."

"I've heard tell from Eiri that Shuichi was sick. I wasn't informed that it was so grave."

Hiro gritted his teeth at mention of the bastard novelist. "Eiri Yuki is the cause of Shuichi's condition, sir."

"Is that so?" Tohma was beginning to sound a tad overprotective.

Hiro knew he was treading dangerous ground. He listed off Shuichi's medical problems. "He called me, from outside of Mr. Yuki's apartment. He was barely able to speak, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a very loose tank top when I got there. He was too weak to even wrap the jacket in his arms around himself. All I got out of him was Mr. Yuki's name."

"What did you do with him?"

"At first? Just took him to my apartment." Hiro replied, realizing that his hands were clenched so tight that he was scratching his palms with his nails. "But then he started to get feverish and was sleeping continuously. That's when I brought him to the hospital."

There was a long pause in the conversation. Hiro thought that perhaps his phone had dropped the call, but then there was an irritated sigh, made all the more aggravated by the crackle of the phone line.

"I will clear Bad Luck's schedule for three weeks. If more time is needed, I'll be sure to adjust as necessary. Thank you for the information Mr. Nakano."

He hung up.

Hiro held the phone to his ear for a second, not sure how he'd managed to do it, but thankful that Seguchi had understood.

Shuichi stirred and Hiro shoved the phone back in his pocket, hopeful that maybe he'd be able to gather more information from his friend.

There was a polite knock on his front door, the quiet rat-a-tat-tat that was so annoying to him because he knew who it was.

Seguchi.

Eiri almost ignored it, but thought better of it immediately. That man would have no problem standing there for an hour, at least, knocking every few minutes, maybe even calling until he answered. The irritation would just grow until he caved, and then he'd be in an even worse mood than before…

He saved the sparsely used document glaring at him from his computer and stretched as he made his way slowly down the hall. Another knock punctuated the quiet air and he opened the door with a disgruntled expression.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I think we need to talk." Seguchi said coldly, pulling his gloves from his hands as he pushed his way inside. "I received a distressing phone call this afternoon."

Eiri gave a noncommittal grunt. "Why do I care?"

"It was from Mr. Nakano of Bad Luck. I'm sure you two are familiar."

Eiri's eyes narrowed, but he didn't answer. Seguchi nodded as if in response to a question and smiled bitterly at his gloves. He sat, legs crossed, without being offered and patted a space of the couch next to him. Eiri paused for a moment, and then sat, finding no good reason to refuse.

"What I'm about to discuss comes from me, not as your brother-in-law, but as the President of NG Studios," Seguchi began. "What have you done to my singer, Shuichi Shindo?"

Eiri smirked for a split second. "I kicked him out. Haven't you been begging me to do so for years?"

Seguchi's answering smile was callous. "As you're family, yes."

"So now what? You're number one band is down for the count and your coming after me?"

"Exactly."

Eiri's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Mr. Shindo is in the hospital." Tohma elaborated.

"So? He lands himself in the hospital all the goddamn time." Eiri's uncaring tone was just slightly off, on edge, possibly even worried.

"Dehydration, hallucinations, infections, just to name a few of his problems." Seguchi examined a soft, pale cuticle as he spoke. "He's so incapacitated that he has to be in the hospital for at least another week, maybe more. Then there's the recuperation time at home."

"What's you're point, Seguchi?"

"I want to know what you did to him. You're losing me thousands of dollars when Bad Luck is out of commission. If it goes on too long I could be losing millions."

"I didn't do anything. He let himself get in trouble."

"As his partner it's your responsibility to care for him when he's too hurt to do it himself."

Eiri shot his brother-in-law at hateful glance. "I'm not his partner."

"What do you call it then, Eiri? Lover, roommate, fuck buddy? He's something to you. You've let him live here for two years. Either way you should help the people you care about when they're in so much pain."

Eiri sat back, fumbling in his pockets for a cigarette and lighter. "Who asked you?"

"Nobody asked me. I made it my business when things got out of hand."

"He'll be up on his feet in no time."

"I hope so, for your sake and his. If he's not back to one hundred percent soon, we will have another chat." Seguchi promised.

"Is that a threat, brother?" Eiri asked, sarcasm dripping from the nickname.

Sarcasm was not lost on Tohma. He shook his head sharply. "Just a warning." He replied, placing his hands back in his gloves as he stood to leave. Just as he reached the door, he called back to Eiri in a chillingly quiet voice.

"There was a point in time that you loved him, you told me so yourself. You're breaking that boy, Eiri, and when he's moved on and you realize that he might just have been what you needed in your life, you'll be very sorry."

"Fuck off."

Tohma nodded to himself and left quietly, the door latching shut behind him.

End-3

A/N: Just wanted to say thank you to all the reviewers. Your comments really pull me through when I feel writers block sneeking it's way into my stories. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.