Warnings and Disclaimer are in the first chapter.


Chapter 11

Ryou didn't think Yuki would call him again, not after having their date crashed. He'd enjoyed himself, sure, and finally put to rest all doubts on his feelings towards the blonde. That didn't mean that Yuki had had fun, and Ryou was quite prepared to never hear from him again. He was therefore very surprised when a few days later he spotted the novelist while he was going through town with his notebook. He made to turn the corner before Yuki spotted him, certain that everything was just a coincidence, but Yuki foiled his plans and started straight for him.

Glancing around for an escape route and finding none, Ryou sighed and leaned against the nearest wall to wait. Anywhere he ran Yuki was sure to see and, even if he didn't follow, he'd probably sic Ryuichi on him.

"Hi," he greeted when Yuki was close enough to hear, voice carefully neutral. He was glad to see the other man, and not just because of his memories either. Despite the brittle exterior he put on, Yuki was enjoyable to be around, something Ryou'd found that day.

"Hi," was the response, Yuki stopping in front of him. A cigarette was dangling from the edge of his mouth, moving as Yuki spoke. Ryou stifled a smile at that.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, ignoring the growing stares from the passers-by. Ryou glanced around and saw that they were attracting attention, famous novelist and beyblader in the street. When the staring grew unbearable was when Ryou grabbed Yuki's arm and dragged him off.

"Let's go somewhere where people aren't watching us," the beyblader explained to a still-silent Yuki. Receiving no complaint, he guided them to a restaurant that he knew would be nearly empty. When they were settled across from each other, neither of them made a move to start the conversation. Seeing that Yuki wasn't interested in talking, Ryou opened his notebook and started writing in it again.

"That's the notebook you mentioned before," Yuki commented, finally breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah." Ryou didn't look up, merely turned the page when his train of thought ended. It didn't take him long to find another as he glanced around before immediately scribbling again.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, the only sound the scratching of pen against paper. The silence was only broken briefly when a waiter passed and they ordered drinks. They'd come and Ryou had filled several more pages with incomprehensible scribbling when Yuki, seemingly tired of just sitting there, reached over and plucked the notebook from in front of the beyblader.

"Hey!" Ryou protested, reaching across the table and nearly upsetting his soda and Yuki's coffee. The blonde, for his part, just scooted backwards out of reach and flipped to the start of the notebook. "Don't look at that, that's private!"

Yuki ignored him, flipping through the notebook quickly. "Your note-taking is haphazard," he criticized. "Things aren't related or grouped in any way. I'd hate to have to try to put together a novel out of this."

"That's because it's not for novels," Ryou grumped, slouching in his chair with his arms across his chest. "Those are ideas for songs."

"Are you returning to singing, then?" Yuki shut the notebook and slid it back across the table.

"I haven't decided," Ryou admitted, claiming his notebook and clasping it protectively against his chest. "For now I think I'll try and sell my songs, if there's anyone that wants them."

"Have you thought about sending them to Ryuichi?" Yuki asked blandly.

Ryou couldn't help his snort. "If he knew I was songwriting again then he'd drag me back to the studio. No thanks. I'm not ready to go back to the limelight."

"And yet you still beyblade," Yuki noted, pointing to the launcher on the other's belt. "Isn't that similar?"

Ryou shook his head, leaning back in his chair precariously. "Not really. When I beyblade… the focus isn't on me, not really. Everyone's watching Drasonet in the dish, and while they know I'm his partner, I'm controlling him, they all focus on him. And victories and defeats, they're team things. When I win, it's our win, and when I lose, we all do."

"Isn't that like being in your band, though?" Yuki took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "It's not just you up on stage, you've got your bandmates too."

"But I'm center stage," Ryou protested, letting the chair fall forward with a dull "clunk." "Everyone's watching me when I'm on stage, and I don't know if I'm ready for that again. I don't know if anyone would want me to do that again…" he added quietly, hand unconsciously reaching up to trace the scar still on his cheek. As he did so his sleeve slipped just a little bit down, revealing a sliver of pale skin between the edge of Ryou's glove and his sleeve. Yuki reached over and grabbed his hand, slipping his fingers under the sleeve to trace the scarred skin there. Ryou let out a panicked noise, tugging hard to try and free himself, but Yuki's voice silenced him.

"You think no one would want to see you because of these," Yuki stated evenly, tugging off Ryou's glove and dropping it to the table. Ryou protested, renewing his efforts to reclaim his hand, even as Yuki ran gentle fingers across the pale flesh of his palm. "I've noticed that you always wear these. Are you ashamed?"

Ryou's face was deep red by now. He turned his face away, not able to even look at the man across from him. "I got strange looks in the hospital. People would stare, and I don't want them to," he mumbled, giving up the struggle. Yuki's touch sent strange shivers up his spine, shivers he wasn't sure he liked.

"People stare at you now, though, don't they?" Yuki reminded him. "When you're walking down the street taking your notes, when you're beyblading, they watch you because they know who you are. You think it'd be different if they saw these?" He kept his eyes on the hand he held, turning it over and scrutinizing it carefully.

"I think if they saw," Ryou started, then stopped. This was touching on a personal issue for him, feelings he'd buried deep since his discharge from the hospital. He didn't even know why he was talking to Yuki about this at all. Sure they'd been close, but that wasn't the case now, right?

"I've seen them, you know," Yuki commented offhand, drawing Ryou's hand closer so he could slide his sleeve up. He revealed a pale arm, scar tissue stretched seemingly randomly over the limb. Ryou renewed his efforts to free himself, yanking himself backwards hard enough to tip his chair over. If it weren't for Yuki he'd have toppled backwards.

"How?" Ryou asked faintly, at the same time using his free hand to try and tug the sleeve of his shirt down. He couldn't remember ever having been in a position for Yuki to have seen him not wearing his usual clothes, which didn't let anyone see him.

"In the hotel room," was the reply, Yuki turning the arm in his hands this way and that. "You don't remember? You were wearing a short-sleeved shirt."

Ryou did remember, once he thought about it for a second. He'd woken up in just the short-sleeved black shirt Ryuichi had picked out for him. If Yuki had watched him all night…

"You saw them, and you still wanted to go out with me?" he wondered, dropping his free hand to the table. He didn't dare look up to see Yuki's expression, though he was certain the other could see just how red his face was. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or upset at the development.

Yuki looked up from the arm he held. "Why not?"

"Because they're ugly!" Ryou burst out, yanking his arm from Yuki's suddenly slack grip. He rolled his sleeve back down and grabbed for his glove. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn't get his hand in the fabric. "In the hospital I never left my room, and you know why? Because people would stare at me! It wasn't so bad when I was still bandaged up, but after they came off people kept looking at me. I didn't understand why at first, not until I saw myself in the mirror and saw the difference between me and everyone else. That's why the first chance I could I found a way to hide these scars. When people look at me now, they see me, not these scars." He finally got the glove on and clenched his fist, still not looking at Yuki.

"And if you went back to singing, inevitably people would see them," Yuki noted. "Ryuichi would get you into your old outfit, probably, and then you're afraid people won't see you anymore. They'll just see the scars and then you'll be left alone?"

"Something like that," Ryou said miserably. He heard Yuki get up but couldn't look up, too ashamed of his weakness to do so. It was a surprise, then, when he felt Yuki's hand on his cheek, brushing away tears he didn't realize had appeared.

"I've already seen you," the novelist said with his normal cool voice. "And yet here I am. What does that say to you?" He pulled a few bills from his pocket and left them on the table for their drinks before heading for the door.

Ryou sat there for a long while, occasionally drinking from his long-since warm soda. Only when it was gone did he stand, notebook held in limp fingers. He walked back to Max's house slowly, mind slowly considering the possibilities. Maybe he had been thinking about his scars the wrong way. He'd seen a few other train survivors in various places, others that had lost limbs, eyes, or were scarred much worse than him. Most of them hadn't tried to hide their disfigurements, had in fact seen them as badges of pride. They'd been glad to survive and shown their wounds without shame.

His encounter with Yuki was also a mystery to decipher. Yuki knew how horribly disfigured he was, he could have rebuffed his initial advance. He hadn't had to be there when Janet revealed the truth of his true identity, either. If Ryou wanted to be hopeful, maybe that meant Yuki really wanted him after all.

It was with a small smile that he got ready for bed. For the first time since the accident he didn't cringe when he looked in the mirror.

. . . . . . .

Ryou didn't see Yuki again for a few days, during which he went about his normal routine. At first he wasn't worried about the lack of contact. He was grateful for the space since it allowed him to contemplate the things that Yuki had told him, about how he felt on the matter.

When the fourth day passed with no sign of the blonde novelist, however, Ryou began to suspect that maybe Yuki wasn't telling the truth. If he'd meant what he said he would have contacted him. He was tempted to stop by Yuki's apartment again but didn't want to press his luck, though at the same time he wanted to see him again.

Ryou was wandering around town again like usual, notebook with his song notes in hand, but today he was too distracted by his thoughts to do anything with them. He still had it open, pen in hand, but he'd found an out of the way corner of a park somewhere. He wasn't hiding, he assured himself. He was just getting a new perspective on things. Nevermind that this park was outside his usual area and Yuki probably wouldn't find him again anyway. That was just part of the new perspective thing.

After staring blankly at the same spot for over an hour Ryou sighed, flipping the notebook shut. He could only focus on Yuki and that was a bit of a problem for him. He knew he still had feelings for the novelist, which wouldn't be a problem if he could be sure that they were reciprocated. This waiting was eating at his nerves and he didn't know how much longer he could stand without answers.

"Ryou!" a voice chirped next to his ear and he yelped, falling out of the swing he'd claimed. His notebook went flying and he scrambled to reclaim it before turning to see who had scared the life from him.

"Ryuichi," he sighed, hugging the book to his chest. "I expected to see you sooner."

"You haven't come to see me," the singer pouted, Kumagoro clutched in his arms as usual. "I was getting lonely! Hiro and Suguru are feeling left out too."

"Sorry," he apologized. He'd almost forgotten about his former bandmates but he hadn't figured out how to approach them. He certainly couldn't do it like he was, he thought. It was different when he hadn't known who he was, but now that he did and he hadn't retaken his spot he felt guilty, like he'd abandoned them. "I've been busy," he tried to explain lamely.

"You've been avoiding us," Ryuichi corrected, but there was a smile on his face. "I'm not mad, though I can't say the same for Hiro. He might ambush you somewhere and demand an explanation if you don't see him soon."

Ryou looked at the ground, toying with a corner of his notebook to keep his hands busy. "I keep meaning to. I just don't know what to say."

Ryuichi grinned, Kumagoro waggling his arms excitedly. "Just tell the truth! And here, you can do it here." The pink bunny produced a slip of paper from somewhere and offered it to Ryou, who took it after a moment's hesitation. He blinked down at it, taking a moment to decipher what it said.

"A concert?" he asked blankly. "I'm not singing again, you know."

"I didn't expect you to," Ryuichi agreed amiably. "But I still want you to come. Will you?"

Ryou checked the date on the ticket, thinking back to see if he had any beyblade matches in three days. "I think I'm free, unless Max drags me somewhere."

"Good!" Ryuichi bounced in place. "You'd better be there," he warned good-naturedly. Ryou looked down to pocket the concert ticket. By the time he looked up the singer had vanished as if he'd never been.

. . . . . . .

When the day of the concert came Ryou rode his bike over to where it would be. It was on the other side of town so he had to be sure to leave extra-early, since he still wouldn't take trains. Max and Zeo had declined his offer to come with, mostly because they couldn't afford tickets into the event. It would have been nice to have company, the former amnesiac mused, but he would do well on his own. He still had his beyblade so he wasn't entirely alone, Drasonet a constant presence.

He arrived just in time for the concert, securing his bike to the provided stand. He showed his ticket at the door and was let through, finding his way to his seat with little difficulty. Naturally Ryuichi had given him a ticket for the front row, which in this case was mere inches from the stage. It was within easy grabbing distance, Ryou thought distastefully. He was beginning to suspect Ryuichi was plotting something, but when was the singer not?

He had just taken his seat when the first band started playing. It turned out that it wasn't really a concert after all, just several bands playing one or two songs each. Ryou located a program and found that he'd have to sit through three more bands before Bad Luck actually came on. His ticket wasn't a backstage pass so he couldn't go looking for Ryuichi either, not that he was planning on it. He'd come to the concert because he told Ryuichi he would, not because he wanted to listen to music. He was hoping that afterwards he could slip away without any trouble.

The other bands weren't horrible, Ryou was glad to find. He made sure to keep hold of the program so he could look up the bands later. However, he was glad when Bad Luck finally took the stage, as it meant that he was that much closer to getting away. Ryuichi spotted him and grinned, waving a bit before turning to Hiro and Suguru. He'd evidently mentioned Ryou's attendance to them, as they both blinked twice before scanning the crowd. Ryou glowered at the singer but waved to his former bandmates. Hiro returned the wave with a scowl while Suguru just nodded at him.

"Hi everyone!" Ryuichi said cheerfully, waving at the crowd. For once there was no sign of Kumagoro anywhere. "Thanks for coming to see us, even if you came to see someone else! We have a new song for you guys today, one that a friend of mine wrote! He's in the audience right now, you know." Ryuichi winked at Ryou before turning his attention back to the crowd. "I hope you guys like it! It's called 'Go Ahead' and it's about beyblading!"

For a second Ryou couldn't believe his ears, even as Suguru opened the song on keyboards and Hiro strummed a few hard guitar riffs. When Ryuichi started singing, however, all of his hopes were dashed. Right there in front of everyone Bad Luck was performing the song he'd written and given to Yuki. He took comfort in the fact that at least no one else knew he'd written it, but if Ryuichi had the song then that meant that he'd probably figured out who the song had come from.

If that was the case, Ryou decided he'd be leaving right after the song was over. He wouldn't give Ryuichi the chance to do something that would out him. He'd tell the world who he'd been when he was ready, and today wasn't that day. For the moment he settled back to listen to what they'd turned his song into. It wasn't Bad Luck's normal style, but it wasn't bad either. It leaned more towards hard rock than rock pop like the rest of their songs, but given the nature of the sport of beyblade, it worked. When it was over Ryou had to grudgingly admit that despite the fact that he hadn't intended for the song to ever see daylight Bad Luck had turned it into a potential hit.

"Did you all like it?" Ryuichi asked breathlessly once the last note had faded. Ryou started wiggling through the mass of standing bodies towards the exit while the crowd roared. "I would tell you who wrote it," he lamented, "but I think he'd be mad at me. I'll just tell you all that Bad Luck has a new songwriter!"

It was uncommonly discreet of Ryuichi, Ryou mused, but he didn't change his course. He'd talk to the singer if he could get backstage but right now he was focused on getting out of the stadium before Ryuichi changed his mind. It was with a sigh of relief that he reached the exit without Ryuichi doing something insane.

He wandered to the door leading to the backstage area, guarded by a large man in a black t-shirt. He was wearing a Bluetooth headset in his ear. Despite being intimidated by the man Ryou walked up to him. "I'm here to see Bad Luck," he said neutrally. "I'm Ryou Mizuhara, they know me."

The guard spoke into his headset before addressing Ryou. "Please wait here while the band is contacted. I'll let you know if they want to see you."

Ryou thanked the man and leaned against the wall a few feet away. For some reason he couldn't stay still while he waited, his fingers drumming against his arms and his feet tapping against the floor. It was a nervous energy he'd always possessed before his memory loss, only recently returned. He didn't know why it had gone dormant for the year his memory had been gone but it had returned shortly after the memorial concert. It was probably, he mused, because for that year he'd been focused on beyblading. After that he hadn't been beyblading nearly as much so his energy had to go somewhere.

It could go towards singing, a part of his brain whispered to him. He could still beyblade and sing if he was careful. He glanced at the guard, who hadn't moved an inch, before sighing and closing his eyes. If he went back to singing, went back to life as Shuichi Shindou, his life would go back to being in the public eye. Max and Mr. Mizuhara would be mobbed by reporters day and night unless he moved out, which was a possibility. With the income from his singing he could get an apartment by himself, and if he got it under an assumed name then he could keep his peace. And yet… that wasn't what he wanted. He liked staying with Max, liked the company he had with his teammates. If he went back to singing he could still beyblade, it was true, but it wouldn't be the same as before.

Did his teammates even know he was Shuichi? He thought about that with a start. Sure Max knew, but what about Zeo, Takao? He didn't know if he'd told them, and given how he'd been about his former life he probably hadn't. Maybe he should talk to them about it, get their advice. He knew he could trust them not to tell anyone if he chose not to go back to his old life. Well, he could trust Zeo, Rei, and Kai. Takao, on the other hand, was a bit of a blabbermouth, but he meant well.

His inner monologue was interrupted by the guard at the door. "You're good to go," the man said, stepping aside and opening the door. "Bad Luck is the fifth door down on the right. I'd advise against getting lost."

"Thanks," he said, stepping through and heading towards the allotted door. He heard Ryuichi's voice well before he got there, the singer rambling something about the song and Ryou and what other songs did he have? Rolling his eyes, Ryou didn't even bother knocking.

"Hi everyone," he announced himself, surveying the room. There was Hiro and Suguru in the corner huddled over sheet music and Ryuichi in the center of the room, Kumagoro once again at home in his arms.

"Ryou!" Ryuichi cooed, tackling him with the force of a bear. It was all Ryou could do not to fight back, still unaccustomed to physical contact as he was. He took a deep breath and counted to ten, promising himself that he wouldn't deck the singer right there.

"Ryuichi," he responded coolly. "Hiro, Suguru," he added, smiling weakly at his former bandmates. "Long time no see."

"You can say that again," Hiro snorted, setting aside the music and standing to greet him. "After we heard the news I thought we'd at least get a few phone calls. You didn't even come to the studio when we were there!" His voice, starting off friendly, slowly grew accusatory with every word. Ryou winced.

"Sorry. I had issues to work over," he said lamely. "I'm here now, right?"

"You could have at least told us you were writing again," Suguru said mildly. He stayed in his corner, the sheet music still in his hand. It didn't surprise Ryou. They hadn't been much closer than coworkers, after all. "It's a great song, but beyblading?"

"I like beyblading," he defended. "How did you know I wrote it, anyway?" he asked the question that had been bothering him. "Did Yuki tell you?"

Ryuichi's smile turned downright evil as he said innocently, "Why you just told us, Shuichi!" He placed special emphasis on the name, rolling it around like a song all its own. Ryou resisted the urge to correct the singer. He was Shuichi, after all. "Yuki wouldn't betray your confidence like that! After you gave him the song he dropped it off to Tohma, though he didn't say who wrote it. I liked it and I thought it was your style!"

Ryou hung his head. "I can't believe I fell for that!" He was grinning, though. "But announcing me as your new songwriter is a bit much. I haven't been writing songs seriously, they're just a hobby."

"Beyblading is just a hobby too," Ryuichi said mildly, waving Kumagoro's ears around. It was an odd sight, distracting.

"I beyblade professionally," Ryou defended his sport. "The world championships are going to be coming up soon, I can't waste much time writing songs."

"You could still write and beyblade," Hiro pointed out. "I mean, even if you beyblade full-time, there'll still be some time to devote to writing. It didn't used to take you long to write songs once inspiration hit."

"When inspiration hit," Ryou agreed, remembering the slump that had preceded his writing of "In the Moonlight". "I guess it wouldn't be too bad. I can't promise much, though!" he warned.

"I think we can motivate you," Ryuichi chimed in, digging into his pocket. "I told Tohma you'd be here and he asked me to deliver this." His eyes sparkled as he held out an envelope that was unmarked save for the name "Ryou Mizuhara". Intrigued, Ryou took the envelope, opening it while everyone watched. It was a check, he saw immediately. A check for an amount of money he'd never thought he'd see again. He sat down hard, eyes widening comically at the slip of paper in his hand.

"What's this for?" he asked a bit weakly. Certainly one song couldn't have been worth the amount of money he held in his hand!

"Royalties," Ryuichi said cheerfully.

"Even if you're not in the band right now," Hiro informed the stunned beyblader, "you still wrote the songs we sing. Of course you'd get paid for them."

All Ryou could do was sit there in shocked silence. After enduring all of a minute of it Ryuichi made a bored noise. "So so you didn't come to sit and think!" the singer chided him. "We haven't seen you in ages! Come on, what's going on? Tell us!"

Ryou pocketed the check with a smile. "Well, it's been the same old things," he began, telling his friends about his recent beyblading challenges as well as some of his latest songs. After that he heard Hiro telling him about the latest news buzz on what had been dubbed "The Memorial Concert Cover-Up". The latest rumor, Ryou was amused to hear, was that he was actually a former US Navy SEAL whose breakdown at the concert was due to a post-traumatic disorder.

"You could put those rumors to rest, you know," Hiro told him. "You wouldn't have to sing again but it would do everyone good to know that you weren't dead."

Ryou shook his head. "I don't want the media to have full disclosure of my life," he said. "At least, not right now. Maybe in the future," he conceded. He wasn't ready to admit it but he did miss singing. Maybe after the world championships…

He shook his head before checking his watch, surprised at how late it had gotten. "I've got to get home, Max'll be worrying about me," he said, standing and gathering his things. "I'll stop by the studio soon if," and he mock-glared at Ryuichi, "someone promises not to make me sing."

Ryuichi had the grace to look innocent. "Who, me?"

"Uh-huh." Ryou waved and took his leave.