Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Maki Murakami does.

Prompt: What if Shuichi had gone to Touma about quiting Bad Luck, instead of going to the band? Protective Touma. Not Touma/Shuichi romance. Sorry. :)

Rating: T for implications of rape, and otherwise just to be safe.

Unexpected

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe he should have just waited until Sakano came in, or called Hiro and asked that he do this. Even going to K seemed more appealing, because as frightening as it was have a Magnum pointed in his face, caulked and ready to fire, it was nothing compared to the fear rising in his chest as he approached the double oak doors that would take him to the office of Touma Seguchi. The President of NG-Pro. His boss.

Yuki's brother-in-law.

Shuichi shook slightly as he paused right outside of them.

It was early; the clock on the wall had not even reached 7:30. The people he had passed by on his way up had either been janitors or secretaries harried by pre-opening work. All contracted bands had yet to come in, including his own. The sunlight that floated through the windows was gentle as opposed to the violent storm of the night before, deceitfully so. A tremor of pain raced across his back at the mere thought of the previous night, making the pink-haired singer cringe as he remembered exactly why it was he was here in the first place. No time for reminiscing, or second-thoughts. No room for second thoughts. Yuki was on the line, and there was nothing -- nothing-- more important than Yuki.

The reminder did little to stop the tears that flooded his eyes as he slowly knocked on one of the doors.

'Don't be in,' he pleaded silently. 'Please, please, please, don't be in. Don't be here, please.'

"Come in." The familiar cheerful voice was unwanted and welcome at the same time -- Shuichi jumped at it regardless of expectation, wincing as another muscle pulled. The urge to turn and run was almost undeniable; his fingers even slipped from the handle as his feet turned.

(Quit Bad Luck, Shuichi. Quit singing, or I'll make sure these pictures get out.)

"Tachi," he muttered under his breath, frozen in his turn. He could see the raven-haired singer clearly in his mind, could recall each curve of his expression that had twisted into vicious victory with every flash of his camera. The promised threats hung over his head in a cruel reminder, and his shoulders slumped at his selfishness. Disappointing Touma Seguchi was worth it, if it kept Yuki safe. He twisted the handle softly, and entered.

The office seemed less cold in than before. The morning sun was drifting rays between the remaining fog, shining through the endless windows in a glow that bathed the room in soft light. For one sweet moment, Shuichi honestly forgot where he was, picturing the serene room as an outside scenery. A gentle sanctuary that seemed to desire to heal his aching wounds. He allowed his eyes to drift closed, sighing inaudibly as the warmth flooded over his aching skin, and for the first time there was no image of his attackers looming behind his eyelids. Peace.

"Mr. Shindou?" Seguchi's voice was a whip crack back to his reality, and his eyes snapped open to see the blue-eyed President staring at him curiously, his ever-present smile firmly on his face. "It is a little early for you to be here, Mr. Shindou, isn't it? Is there something I can help you with?"

"Um ... Mr. Seguchi," he acknowledged with a bow of his head. Another muscle pulled. "Ouch," he hissed quietly, his knees buckling slightly.

"Do you need to have a seat, Mr. Shindou?" Shuichi had always marveled at how the older man could sound concerned when he really didn't care. Like now. "You look ... like you had a rough night." An accusatory tone.

'Rough night,' he thought weakly. 'Yeah. Guess you could say that.'

"I don't need a seat, Mr. Seguchi, thank you." He shook his head tentatively. "I won't take up too much of your time. I simply came to ... to inform you that..."

"Mr. Shindou?"

(What would the world think of Eiri Yuki if they saw these pictures, huh? If they thought he did this to you?).

"I'm quiting Bad Luck."

-_________-

When Shuichi Shindou had shown up at his door, to be honest, Touma had expected his appearance to have something to do with Eiri and their recent confrontation. His brother-in-law had called hours before to inform him that he had kicked the singer out of his apartment, though the reason behind the call was still lost the keyboardist. He had been prepared for Shindou to ask him -- beg him -- to get Eiri to take him back, or talk some sense into the broken writer. Touma had been ready with dismissals, comebacks, and lectures. Had a long list mentally prepared for all the reasons for Shuichi not to be with his friend.

He had not been prepared for this.

"You wish to quit Bad Luck." Even as he repeated the words, they sounded wrong. Like spoiled milk or molded bread. The mere thought of Shindou not singing for the band he so obviously lived for was not even a thought he had favored with attention. It seemed improbable. Impossible.

"Yes," came the boy's quiet response, head bowed. "I know that Bad Luck has a contract, but since I would be the only one quitting, and the band would be staying, I didn't think it would be a problem. It's not, is it?"

There was a desperate note to the last sentence that had Touma's eyes narrowing on Shindou, his smile fading. There was something different about him, something less ... alive. He looked pale and cold. His arms were shaking obviously in the long sleeves that he wore, and his legs were swaying dangerously in warning of collapse. His form was slouched slightly, his head still lowered. There was something ... familiar about the stance. Something...

"Sit down." He didn't mean for his words to be so violent, but it garnered the desired results as the singer fell into the chair with a jump. Touma's eyes narrowed further as he saw Shindou flinch at the hard contact of the chair, the way he cowered slightly at the harsh tone.

No. But he could not deny how much he looked like Eiri had all those years ago.

This was not any of his business. Shindou was his singer, and nothing more. Their relationship was one-hundred percent professional, and he had no right to get into the teenager's personal life. The only concern he should have right now should be that the lead singer of one of his most popular and promising bands wanted to quit.

"Who did it?" His voice was low, and he knew he could not keep this professional. If he were honest with himself, he honestly liked Shindou. He was drawn to talent, naturally, but he had talented bands on his label he did not like as people. His energy reminded him of Ryuichi, but his spirit reminded him of Eiri before Kitazawa. Happy, carefree. It angered him greatly that the same fate had befallen them both.

The singer was so shocked that his head shot up, violet eyes wide with shock as they stared. Touma recognized the brush of heavy makeup along the right side of his face, the barely-seen tinge of brown.

"W-what?" Shindou stuttered in surprise, and Touma saw the flash of fear in his eyes. The uncertainty. Instantly, he covered his fury with the stoic smile, tilting his head at just the right manner to seem nonthreatening, but serious.

"Mr. Shindou," he spoke gently. "I have no intention of releasing either the band or you from your contract with NG." He held up a hand to stop the protest he knew would be coming. "I would like to know, however, who threatened you to quit singing." 'And who hurt you.'But he didn't say that out-loud, merely watching as Shindou lowered his head again.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Seguchi-."

"Shuichi." He was still smiling, still kind, but maybe a more friendly approach would help this situation. "I know you. Not personally, of course, but I know your passion. Mr. Sakano, Mr. K, and even Fujisaki have spoken highly of your dedication and love for Bad Luck. You would not quit willingly, nor so easily." He leaned forward. "And it is important that you tell me if another person contracted to NG is threatening you or not. I cannot, and will not, allow such a person to remain in association with my company. You ... understand?"

For a moment, there was silence, and Touma watched as the younger male considered his words carefully. He noted the struggling rise of his shoulders that signaled labored breathing, the trembling of troubled thoughts. If he had known Shindou a little more intimately, he would have taken the teen into his arms and offered comfort. But that was not his place.

"They." Shindou's voice was dry and cracked as he spoke. "They have pictures." Touma nodded. He had expected no less. Violet eyes lifted once more, a light of shame in their turmoiled depths. "They threatened ... threatened Yuki."

The blonde-haired man sucked in a breath at that, fury growing into pure hate.

"Mr. Shindou," he growled softly, barely able to keep it tame to avoid scaring the singer further. "Who?"

"I wouldn't give up singing, if it were just me, Mr. Seguchi," came the reply that was no answer. "But I won't let them hurt Yuki. I'd die before I let them hurt Yuki." The shame shifted to the side for something else. "You ... understand?"

Touma studied his singer closely, took in everything. Had he only heard about this, and not seen Shindou for himself, he would have claimed the boy had placed his brother in unnecessary danger for selfish reasons. He would have believed that Eiri had suffered and that the teen had gotten away unscathed. But when he looked at the rose-haired, trembling mess in front of him, he only saw what he saw in Eiri that day in New York. Not shattered, but definitely broken, bleeding, and suffering. And he couldn't be mad at that.

"I understand, Shuichi," he assured softly. "Now, tell me."

'Neither of you will be hurt again.'

-_______-

Twenty minutes later showed the injured teen from his office and himself on the phone. He had given Shuichi the next two days off, asking his secretary to inform Mr. Sakano and Mr. K of the event. Now, he waited patiently for the rings to stop and for the familiar beep of the phone that was never answered.

Beep.

How apt.

"Eiri, it's Seguchi," he whispered into the mouthpiece. "Mr. Shi- Shuichi stopped by my office this morning. Something has happened, Eiri. I sent him your way about twenty minutes ago, he should be there soon. Please let him in -- you will see what I mean. Rest assured, my friend, that I am taking care of the problem. I beg of you not to do anything rash. I'll call you soon with the results." He paused, words left unspoken on his tongue. So uncharacteristic, so unexpected of him. But maybe that would catch some attention. "And Eiri ... please be careful with him. You were right. He's ... unusual."

He hung up, dialed a new set of numbers, and this time was impatient for the answering voice. When it came, his smile was completely gone, and his instructions were growled into the phone.

"This is Seguchi. I require your services once more. Meet me at the alley behind the Galaen at 10 o'clock. I will be doubling your rate. This time will go farther."

I really liked this one. :) What did you think? Drop a review a let me know!

PS - Have you checked out my new fic, Lyrics for Salvation, yet? It's inspired by the 2nd entry to Amber Roses!