Afterwards, I have lunch.

A bottle of beer, some vending machine noodles from a family mart. Three cigarettes.

Then like a good workman, at the mart, I buy any relevant magazines I can find. I ash all over the pages as I force myself to look through these rags and the ones Shuichi left for research about Taki Aizawa and Ask .

I find nothing atypical about either of them.

Ask: Signed on about a year ago, released some hot tracks , growing in popularity, produced by so and so, rising through charts etc.

Taki Aizawa: Apparently Taki's a man who loves the camera, hogs the limelight. Barely lets his bandmates a word in edgewise during their interviews.

Reading them, I learn more than I would ever want to about the guy.

Taki has ambitions of seizing the pop-king Sakuma's throne and taking the pop-world by storm, he likes to mull on his past successes and preemptively brag about his future ones how he'll 'blow all our minds ' with his 'vision' and his 'artistic genius', although he's a bit of a self-confessed 'hot-head', who loves the 'ladies' , is a Libra, and his favorite color is neon yellow.

I find out a few things about Bad Luck too.

The addition of the third member , a prodigy teenage Fujisaki Suguru. Comparisons already being drawn between Shindou and the great Sakuma. Speculations to their neck-and-neck 'rivalry' with Ask.

"Who will come out on top? Who will reign supreme?" One article screams.

Who gives a damn

Usually, as we all know, these 'rivaries' are set up , nothing but trumped up stunts by the studio and publicists and the press in order to create publicity.

Yet Taki Aizawa took it seriously.

Why?

He could be the type that is easily threatened. But what was the tipping point?

Was Aizawa going to be dropped? Or was it Sakuma's endorsement or seeming preference towards Shindou over him?

Or was it a personal matter?

Was that why this blackmailing was targeted at Shindou alone, not at the other band members?

Or was Shindou just unlucky? Another case of names being all-too prophetic?

That hateful expression pops into my mind that I hear from time to time: If it weren't for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at alI.

I wonder, what kind of luck this case and that overly emotional brat might bring me.

Isn't that what life is. The frenetic flight toward opportunities and the measurings of calculated risks collding head-long into blind chance. Usually culminating in unforeseen consequences. Or misfortune.

I think of the sounds of Shindou's crying again. That garish pink hair, the most eyesore of a color that this place has ever seen.

I re-read his lyrics.

They're terrible enough. I think, with the paper in my fist, why bother taking photographs. Somebody could blackmail him with these alone.

I start to get a headache.

Not only that, a sinking feeling in my gut.

Maybe it looking at this gossip garbage doesn't sit well with me. I feel irritated to even know of Ask and Bad Luck's existence.

But maybe its more than irritation.

Uneasily, I looked around myself.

My office looks terrible.

And the boy left his snotty tissue on my desk.

I throw it away.

Then I get in my ugly car, and go to Tohma's, to kill two birds with one stone.

Just in case I tear off the cover of the magazine with Aizawa on it and fold it, put it in my back pocket. I bring my safety knife and brass knuckles I keep in my glove box and put them in my front coat pocket to steel myself for whatever ahead. (And to feel more in control.)

When I get there, I side-step his perpetually flustered receptionist Sakano, who babbles something at me that sounds like I can't go in without an appointment or forewarning.

I don't listen. I bang on his office's door.

After two knocks he lets me in.

Instead of saying anything, I put a cigarette in my mouth.

"You are not allowed to smoke in my office Eiri." Tohma tells me patiently.

I light up anyways.

I need the grit, and warmth. Tohma's office is as freezing as it is pristine , a Freudian Masterpiece Theater. There's some sort of bronze abstract sculpture made of intersecting loops that looks like scrap mental in the corner, or the most inefficent and costly coat hanger ever. Piano classical music playing. Schubert A lifesized model of human brain with detachable lobes on his desk. Or maybe not a model- possibly the leavings of one of his uncooperative subjects.

I sit down on the dark barker leather chair.

"Now. Aren't you going to ask me about my childhood Tohma." I say.

"Have you finally come to me to discuss that subject Eiri?" Tohma stares at me tranquilly and clasps his hands behind his back.

Do I detect a glint of macabre eagerness in his eye. I think.

Or is it wariness.

"Have you been expecting it for so long?" I give him a dry look. " Isn't it a conflict of interest , to treat me as one of your patients?"

Tohma returns to his giant desk with his model-brain on it, and sits in his smart looking arm chair. He's the image of psychiatric propriety , in his black turtle neck and expensively tailored grey suit, leather Italian shoes neatly tied .

"You are not my patient. You are my brother-in-law, and for whatever reason, you're unwilling to see any of my other qualified referrals." Tohma laces his fingers in a similar tidy bow together on the desk.

"I'm unwilling to see you too usually."

"Yes." He instructs me. "It seems you're not unwilling to see me right now - and you needn't be so unwilling to confer with me, as I'm the closest thing to an impartial party you have . In truth, you should start seeing a separate party regularly. "

"But who else could I trust?" I say nonchalantly. " By that, who else would be as lenient with his prescription pad?"

Tohma bites his lip.

I mutter. "I need something today."

Like a good doctor, he pulls out his pad and pen from his drawer.

He scribbles a script for mood stabilizers. Or tranquilizers. Maybe something extra. The works.

He rips it off the pad with a flourish.

Tohma shoves the paper towards me like a verdict. A guilty one. "Your profession is not good for you Eiri."

"Is that your professional prognosis?" I say.

Tohma doesn't bother to reply . His face remains drawn.

"Yeah. I know. Thats why I chose it." I get up, take it from him.

I put the prescription in my pocket. (The one with the knife in it.)

"More than that, it is dangerous." Tohma begins his spiel. " Alienating. Physically straining and psychologically grueling- "

"Yes I'm well suited for it." I sneer. "And what else would I be, a romance writer?"

Tohma seems to think about it. " I would much rather prefer it. "

"And I'd prefer to eat glass then do what you do." I tell it to him straight. " Listening to wind-bag people ramble about themselves all day, as you steal their money by the hour."

Just to be an asshole, I tip over the tissue box on the coffee table near me with my finger.

Tohma stares back at me with cool bemusement.

I ask. " So. Hows Mika doing?"

He says unfazed. "You never ask me about Mika."

To fill you in, Mika Seguchi: Legendary keyboardist of Nittle Grasper and president, producer of NG. Cosmetic product, perfume, costume jewelry and other accessories and fashion mogul. Model. Owner/editor of the popular lifestyle Mika magazine whereupon she's usually mugging on the cover.

And my older sister, bane of my life, bitch on wheels.

" I have no reason to,as I assume you take care of her." I mutter.

"Mika is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she is out of town, travelling on business all week." Tohma reports.

" Is that so. I ask because I had one of her employees wander into my office this afternoon." I say to him." A Shuichi Shindou of the curiously named band Bad Luck. Ever heard of it? "

"I may have." He clears his throat.

"I find it hard to believe you haven't, given how your cousin Fujisaki Suguru plays keyboard in it."

Tohma falls silent.

"Tell me. " I ask. "How goes the record game? Keeping it all in the family again? "

"You know I don't directly concern myself with Mika's work. "Tohma says primly. " As for Fujisaki, indeed, he was available and the best qualified for the position."

"I'll be sure to congratulate him then when I see him- " I glower. "Or was it more that Mika did you and your family a favor. And in return , she got what?"

Tohma chides softly. "A favor? Returns? Marriage is rarely so simplistic and its innerworkings so tactical , and I am her husband, or do you not remember? Why do you not talk to her if you have questions about the various maneuverings of the music industry."

"Because I don't like to talk to her. " I admit.

" And why not talk about it, or is the pop business beneath you?" I glance at the ceiling. " And why shouldn't it be? You probably have goods grounds for your contempt. They're who compose your patient roster. As shrink to the stars, you're the repository for all their dirty secrets, and serve as their pill-mill, all so Mika can protect NG's assets. "

"I am not at liberty to discuss my methods or my patient roster." Tohma says serenely. " Although, as per the ethics and controls of my practice , I prescribe responsibly at my discretion."

"Sure you do." I gesture to the paper in my pocket. But then, I could gesture to everything in this office that would prove contrary to the statement he just made. " But I understand. You and I are in the business of discretion."

"Yet let us not forget." Tohma says with an air of quiet self-satisfaction and crosses his legs. "Our occupations are very different. "

"Yes, lets not forget it. You talk to people about their problems. Whileas I prefer the more hands-on approach." I smile. "In this instance, apparently, some rival band Ask's lead singer Taki Aizawa is creating a problem for Shindou and therefore Bad Luck. You wouldn't know anything about that, now would you? "

Tohma writes something down on his little note pad , that he probably doodles on it. " You never discuss your cases with me Eiri."

"Yes. Like you, I have to keep my work confidential." I put my hands in my pockets. " But I thought you might like to know- as our interests may converge here You want to confer with me Tohma? This is your chance. We could pool resources. "

"Why would I wish to confer with you on that." The psychiatrist murmurs. " I have no interest in celebrity feuds. "

"Not even if your cousin might be involved and his future affected?"

"How will it affect Fujisaki? He is a talented and driven young man, and if anything should happen to the band he's currently in , Mika will simply place him in another group which will be just as if not more successful. His future is guaranteed. " Tohma puts down his onyx pen and pad face-down and gives me a pointed glance. " The better question is why is the fate of Shindou's career so important to you."

"Its not of interest to me either." I rise and pace the carpeted floor. " Shindou's just some punk, some damned brat who hired my services. But its a interesting coincidence isn it, all these non-degrees of non-separation."

"Yes but its not the coincidental aspects of this case that brought you here today asking me for an prescription. "Tohma frowns delicately.

He stands up.

He encircles me, roving around me, like a shark. Reading me like a poker player, gaze following me like a weakness seeking missle.

Tohma raises a listlessly merandering finger at me as he does so .

He murmurs. " Flat affect. Scattered thoughts. Difficulty sustaining eye-contact."

"..." I say nothing.

"What happened Eiri?" He asks calmly

I stare ahead

"Shindou showed me his lyrics. They were so... lame and awful. But for some reason, he cared about ... what I thought. " I frown. " Then ...he.. later broke down in my office. The damned brat seemed so pathetic...scared."

"And how did that make you feel?"

I glare at him. "Oh go to Hell. Thats how I feel."

"It upset you." Tohma's face softens. " You become defensive and agitated when you're upset."

I snap. "I don't get upset "

"I know for the fact you do." The other man says firmly. "And we both know what happened the last time you got upset."

Yes we do. I have the scars to prove it.

The older man offers forth his hand with a genteel gesture and affects his tone to gentle remonstrance. "May I offer you this pertinent insight Eiri, though I know you shall not listen to it."

Why bother then. I think.

"For whatever reason that I do not deign to conjecture about, you have found yourself personally invested in this person and already unable to be impartial. Before this case has even begun, you have already breached some of your unspoken rules of engagement."

"Why would I do that?"

Tohma raises a brow. " One might surmise you have empathized with this particular young man."

"One would surmise wrongly then. " I say. " Even so, is that so bad?"

He says. " It is, if you cannot handle this stressor or if it affects your judgement, or may cause you to be careless and is it not so that as a matter of policy, you do not take cases that you may get emotionally involved in?"

"Yes but how could I be involved? Its a job. " I grit." I ... barely know the guy."

"Yes. May I also remind you again, you do not know this young man at all?" Tohma clicks his tongue ." Therefore you have no responsibility to him. Its in your best interest that you pass this case up, if there is even the chance it may compromise your personal or emotional safety."

"I didn't come here for a psychological debriefing Tohma. And shouldn't I get a second opinion?" I leer.

Tohma looks at me tiredly, hand pressed on his chest with aristocratic dismay. With concerned displeasure. Also, disapproval.

" Anyways, its too late." I mutter. " Its already done. He's paid me. I took it. And I don't back out."

Tohma sighs.

He already knew that. But Tohma already knows why I'm here. Besides for meds.

He sighs again. " Eiri. You know I cannot ethically disclose to anyone who my patients are."

I assert. "So Aizawa is your patient."

"I cannot confirm that." Tohma says sternly.

"Ofcourse you can't. " I nod understandingly. "But if he hypothetically was seeing you, whats his deal? Do you think he's diagnosed? What's his psychiatric history? If there isn't any, what do you suspect? "

"Eiri-" Tohma says warningly.

"What I suspect? Given his profession, most likely Taki's a narcissist . Par for the course though right? Delusions of grandeur, and hyper-competitive which the studio no doubt encourages and exploits . Maybe our Taki has drug problems. According to the gossip mill, he has a temper too. " I take out the magazine cover I've ripped off with him on it.

A violent temper? I think: On the cover in my hand, Taki Aizawa is smirking, doing finger guns obnoxiously at the camera.

Not only that, I know he has a trigger finger behind the camera too, sticking it where it doesn't belong. Besides being a exhibitionist, someone with voyeuristic tendencies?

"Look at his grin. He looks like a asshole to me-" I say and point to his picture.

My own finger gun, pointing at my target.

Bang.

"Please." Tohma pinches at the bridge of his nose . " As I told you I legally cannot assist you in this inquiry, or I could lose my license. Why is it that you do not ever listen to me?"

"That depends Tohma. Why don't you ever say anything worth listening to?" I state irritably. "I came here and gave you a personal update and the pleasure of my company. Now what will you give me in return?"

Tohma merely looks at me. " Once again. I cannot provide what I am unable or not entitled to offer you."

So, the old contest of wills again.

But I don't have time or patience for it today.

"Alright. But if you won't talk , listen Tohma. Let me ask you a question that may be worthwhile to you. "I tell him factually. Now "I'm not a lawyer or a shrink. I only have a rudimentry grasp of the psychiatric care system from what little personal experience I have of it. But for the sake of argument, lets say one of your patients, a high profile one, came into your office and confessed to having... disturbed... criminal thoughts..."

Tohma's expression is still tense. "Having disturbed thoughts is not a crime Eiri.'

" Yes, but now you, as his psychiatrist have foreknowledge of his proclivities - and wouldn't you, the psychiatrist would be ethically obligated to exercise your powers to attempt to prevent these thoughts from coming to fruition, through- institutionalization, or filing it, and reporting to the authorities? Or maybe his being high-profile affected your prescribed treatment, you wanted to keep it hush- or maybe for whatever reason you weren't paying attention that moment - a busy man like yourself could have been easily distracted, or you didn't take it too seriously. Or maybe you even prescribed something that could exacerbate his problems or he abused recreationally. So if this patient did decide to act on those deviant desires in some ... criminal activity, doesn't that as his doctor, imply that there involves and implies some responsibility on your part ? And lets say this patient's activities were brought to light, there'd be an outcry of reckless endangerment, letting a unhinged individual roam the streets. It'd be a scandal that at the very least that would put you as his psychiatrist and your legitimacy under scrutiny- you might be subpoenaed, your confidentiality breached, your license revoked then. Or more than that, hasn't it been true in the past, if its been argued the psychiatrist could have possibly prevented the crime, he may even be found liable for his patient's actions in a court of law?"

I finish. "And think, what might the psychiatrist's image-conscious wife think of all this? "

Tohma looks up. His face bloodless as his knuckles.

"You haven't forgiven me haven't you Eiri."

"Now Tohma. Why should I hold a grudge." I say coldly. "You were only fulfilling your obligation there too, weren't you?"

I put my hands in my pocket. I feel the weight, the tactility of the weapons sittting in them.

Although I don't need them for this kind of death blow I want to inflict. They're too blunt, swift, not subtle enough.

"Although I don't think anyone else should have to pay for your mistakes again." I keep my eyes on his. "And I don't think we need to confer on that."

Tohma's stare back is icy enough to kill plants.

I hold my ground.

Finally my brother-in-law looks away.

And I notice: the pleasant piano music has since stopped.

"You know I am always available to talk to you whenever you need me- but I am sorry, I have a patient in my waiting room whose session is already being delayed by your impromptu visit" The older man speaks, pallor shaded and subdued. "But thank you for your time."

I go over and loom over him at his desk.

" Don't bother with the courtesies . Just tell me ." I demand. " Is it the bastard I'm looking for?"

"No. It isn't." Tohma stares back at me hard. "But do listen and remember Eiri. Sometimes when one is searching for a answer, all one needs is to do is remain still and wait. "

Ask. I think. And you shall recieve.

"Heh. " I smile at him. "I always wondered why you became a psychiatrist Tohma. When you would have been a far better strip tease."

Tohma closes his eyes and swallows. "Do show yourself out."

I do.

Before that , I hear Tohma tell me . "Eiri. Please be careful."

I disregard that last part.