Acknowlegements: Thanks to Monj for betaing, and even though she never got around to betaing, thanks to maccha for continuity advice!

Notes: For those of you who have been waiting, I'm sorry that this took so long. To anyone coming upon this story for the first time, thank you for reading this far! There was about a thirteen-month gap between this chapter and the previous one. Feel free to be brutal with any reviews! Extended Author's Note follows the chapter.

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Chapter 26: otagai no tame ni -for one another-

It hadn't been the best of days so far, but, as Teru tried to tell himself a hundred times between Shinjuku and Meguro, it could have been worse. At least he hadn't overslept.

Teru had been up at five that morning, dragged out of bed by the first beams of sunrise that came pouring through his window with a week's supply of heat in tow. He was usually able to sleep through the insanely early summer mornings that in Tokyo were par for the course, but as luck would have it, he'd actually managed to get to bed at a decent time the night before and that, coupled with nerves, was enough to rule out any possibility of sleeping in.

He'd dragged his feet in the bathroom, washing his hair twice and over-styling it until not a strand was out of place, but even that had left him with time to kill, and for nearly two hours he'd forced himself to struggle through some Playstation game that he hadn't touched in months. He had managed to completely forget where he was supposed to go next, and with what promised to be the most nerve-wracking day of his life ahead of him, he found that he didn't really care. When his character was finally killed near the top of a mountain that he thought he might have already scaled, Teru turned the game off with a sigh and began to walk to the station at the slowest pace he could manage.

When he arrived at Meguro station, he was still over thirty minutes early. He considered getting something to eat, or at least a cup of coffee, but he hadn't really talked about specific plans with Rei, and didn't want to be stuck eating lunch twice if Rei hadn't had anything yet. He wasn't very familiar with the area, and though he thought that there might be places to window-shop, the only thing readily available was the station's flower shop. It took all of two minutes to browse through the bouquets, earn a dirty look from the middle-aged woman at the register, who must have known "just looking" when she saw it, and resign himself to standing outside the west exit with his phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

The minutes crawled by like hours, and the phone was as silent as it had been for the past two days, ever since Rei had sent him a two-word message agreeing to the time that he had suggested. It was more than a little unnerving, though Teru wasn't sure exactly why. He had talked to Kiyomi in the days leading up to their date, just as he had with the girls who had come before her, but it hadn't been every day. There was that element of playing hard to get, he knew, and it was a game that young girls in Tokyo were exceptionally good at – but he hadn't expected Rei to be the same, and where with a girl he could have brushed it off as a game, he wasn't sure what this silence meant, and wasn't sure if he liked it.

He scrolled through the names in his address book until Rei's came up. It would be so easy to push that button, to make that call. But in fifteen minutes – twenty, maybe, if he decided to play the game a little himself – he wouldn't need any permission to go to Rei's house, to knock on the door, to pretend that the silence had never bothered him and that he was as confident about today as he had ever been about anything.

But then again, willpower had never been one of Teru's strengths.

The phone rang once, twice, three times, and in the middle of the fourth ring, Rei picked up. "What is it?"

"I, uh… sorry?" Teru wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but Rei had sounded preoccupied. "It's just… I'm here early and I was, um, wondering if it would be okay to…"

"Fine."

"What?"

On the other end of the phone, Rei sighed. "Come over early, if you'd like. The door is unlocked." His words were curt, if not exactly unkind, and the line went silent before Teru had a chance to respond.

He'd been dragging his feet all day, and he made a point now of taking the long way around, wandering up streets that may or may not have even led toward Rei's apartment and stopping to look at just about anything in which it was possible to feign interest along the way. But sooner or later, he knew that one of the little side streets would turn into the one he'd been semi-consciously looking for, and when he found it, he didn't turn away. Pausing in front of the door for only as long as it took him to draw a deep breath, he pushed it open and walked on in.

"Rei?"

The bathroom door stood ajar, and Teru heard something clatter and fall to the floor.

"Rei?" He called again. "Are you alright? I'm here," he added as an afterthought.

Another rattle, a clink of metal on porcelain, and Rei's answer, strained and forcibly cheerful: "Please. Wait in the music room."

"Um…. Okay…" Teru kicked his shoes off and stepped up into the apartment proper. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am… fine."

"Yeah, okay… um, look, if I'm too early…"

Teru took the lack of response as his cue to sit down and shut up. The music room had been cleaned since the last time he'd been here, and the sofa and table were both free of their typical clutter. He supposed that Rei had tried to be considerate, tried to get things ready for his guest, but Teru wished that he hadn't: there was nothing to do, nothing even to look at in the dark and lonely little room. He would have given just about anything for a TV, or even a book or magazine, but as none of those things were readily available, he contented himself with staring at the clock on his phone, which had apparently decided that a minute wasn't long enough and lengthened it without bothering to ask for Teru's permission.

There was another sound from the bathroom, a muffled thud followed by what might have been a muttered curse, and then a crash as something definitely shattered, startling Teru to his feet.

"Rei? Are you all right?"

There was no answer, and Teru continued: "Can I –"

The door to the bathroom swung open with an air of finality, and Rei emerged at last. "I am ready. We can go."

"You look… nice." Teru blushed. It wasn't necessarily true – there was something about Rei's posture, the way his clothes hung slightly lopsided on his too-slender frame, or maybe it was the red rings around his eyes, imperfectly covered with concealer. He looked as though he had dressed himself in a hurry, and Teru felt another tablespoon of guilt added to what was already weighing on his conscience. He suddenly regretted the phone call, and his decision to come early.

Rei ignored all of this, however, forcing a stiff smile and an even stiffer response. "Thank you." His eyes did not echo the sentiment. "Shall we go?"

Teru nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment to say anything remotely appropriate, and silently shoved his feet into his boots. When Rei had done likewise, they put the apartment behind them, beginning the trek to the station in a bath of sunshine and silence.

He had planned to make some kind of small talk, to comment on the weather or on some insignificant bit of news he had gleaned from the magazine rack at work yesterday, but now, under a billion-megawatt spotlight and before an audience of the world, his lines had failed him, and he had forgotten how to adlib. They reached the station in silence, and when Teru purchased the train tickets, he was hardly shocked to receive only a formal nod in the way of thanks.

The Tokyu Meguro line began its journey underground, making it difficult to feign interest in what was outside the window, but Teru and Rei both did their best, and neither spoke for what seemed like a long while as station after station passed them by with little more than lights and signs to mark their progress. It was not until the train emerged into the sunlight, passing over the cerulean expanse of the Tama River that marked their passage out of Tokyo and into Kanagawa, that Rei broke the silence at last.

"Yokohama." It was barely more than a whisper, but Teru had no doubt that it was intended to be heard. Rei did not wait for a response, however, but stood slowly and shakily, leaning heavily on his cane to combat the rocking of the train, and crossed to the far window where he gazed at the river as it flew past in a shimmer of sunlight and blue. "You are taking me to Yokohama."

Teru licked his lips and glanced nervously around him, unsure of what exactly he was looking for. Rei seemed neither excited nor upset – but something had sent him deep into thought, and Teru found himself beginning to regret a large portion of the plan he had come up with. "Is, um… is there something wrong with that?"

The response was a long time in coming, but when it did Rei's voice had softened once more to a tone that could almost be described as kind. "No." He did not turn from the window, but Teru could imagine the hard line of his mouth softening, maybe even turning up a little at the corner. "It's only that… it's been a long time. A long time."

They changed trains at Musashi-Kosugi and rode the next one to the end of the line – still in silence, but this silence was a more peaceable one. This one said enough. It is enough to be here. It is enough to be with you. Whatever had happened that morning at the apartment had somehow been wiped away, wiped clean by the sunlight on the river, and Teru was at once confused and relieved. It still surprised him more than a little that he genuinely liked being with Rei. But at the moment, it seemed even more unbelievable that Rei seemed to enjoy being with him.

The walk from the station to the harbor was not a long one, and Teru could have made it in five minutes or less on his own, but with his pace adjusted to match Rei's it was more like ten. He had imagined the scene a little differently the night before, rehearsing the day's agenda in his mind's eye. He was supposed to have said something here, but once more he found his words had deserted him. Besides, it didn't seem necessary to announce their destination. He was not leading Rei to the harbor any more than Rei was leading him – they made their way there together, and what awkwardness there was in that knowledge still felt good somehow, still felt right.

They paused for a moment as the crossing light turned from red to green, and made their way across the street to Cosmo World, the small amusement park on the waterfront. The enormous Cosmo Clock Ferris wheel marked the hour in large neon digits, while roller coaster cars, tiny in comparison, buzzed around its base. Here, again, Teru had meant to say something, to ask Rei if he had ever ridden the Ferris wheel, if he wanted to do so again. But Rei had eyes only for the ocean, vaster and more beautiful than the Tama River, and as full of the shimmers of sunlight that seemed to have sparked some ancient memory.

He leaned against the railing, leaning out over the ocean as far as he could, or at least as far as he dared, seeming not to mind the sea breeze that swept the long blue hair away from his face, exposing it to whomever cared to see. Teru wanted to tell him that he could take the mask off, enjoy the day as it was meant to be enjoyed, that he didn't have to be afraid. But he didn't say anything. He didn't dare to interrupt the moment, though he wasn't at all sure if it was a happy one or not. He stood beside Rei, stood against the railing and let his pink hair dance in the wind with blue, forgetting for a moment that only half of the strands were alive, that only half would ever grow or change.

"What am I supposed to say, Teru?"

Rei still faced the ocean as he spoke, but the visible side of his face had fallen into contemplation at least, if not melancholy. "Should I pretend that I am not reminded of him with every step I take, every sound I hear and everything I see? Should I lie, and tell you that we never stood here, on this very spot, on a day much like today, speaking of a future that would never be?" He tossed the cane aside, and Teru heard it fall to the ground with a clatter. "Should I pretend that things are as they were? That I can walk with you as I did with him, side by side, unashamed to be seen?"

He lowered his eyes, no longer looking at the waves but at the rail, at the concrete walkway on which they stood. Looking at reality, Teru thought, but he had the good sense not to put his thoughts into words. This wasn't a fight, and maybe not even a bout of self pity. This was Rei's way of saying something that had to be said, and although he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it, something told him that he should.

"Should I be honest?" Rei's voice trembled now, but did not falter. "Should I speak to you in words that I cannot bear to say aloud, to tell you… to tell you how bad it really is? To help you understand? Should we lie to one another? Should we hurt each other with the truth? I can't –"

"Stop." Teru's eyes were full of tears; this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. "Just… just stop, okay? Today was… IS supposed to be fun. I'm sorry if I picked a bad place, if I did something wrong. But everything can't be wrong, okay? No matter what we do, it always turns into this… and today isn't going to be like that, okay? Tell me about Saki if you want. If you're tired, if something hurts, then tell me. But tell me what feels good too, because that's all I meant to do, okay? I just… I just want to have fun."

Rei closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry."

"No…" Teru shook his head. "Don't be. I mean… I didn't know that coming here would… bring back memories."

"I'm sorry," Rei repeated. "They are not… not bad memories. Just… just memories. Just… memories."

"Do you want to leave?"

Rei took a deep breath. "No."

"Do you… um, do you want to ride the Ferris wheel?"

The lines that he had rehearsed over and over again in his head the night before seemed childish, inappropriate even, when uttered out loud, but they brought a smile to Rei's face that seemed to be at least somewhat genuine.

"I think… yes. I do."

Teru smiled in return, then bent to the ground to retrieve the cane from where it had fallen.

Thank you, Rei's eyes seemed to say. Thank you for not making me ask.

---

They rode the Ferris wheel twice that day: sunset from the apex was the one part of his original plan which Teru had been unwilling to sacrifice, and though it meant paying the astronomical fare no less than four times, he found himself doing so with a smile. It hadn't been a bad day after all, even with Saki as an absent chaperone and a hundred unsolved issues hanging over their heads. There was a secret to dealing with Rei, he had discovered – give him what he needs, but don't make him ask for it. From the moment they had left the waterfront, every door had been opened, every fare paid, every can or bottle opened and every destination within reach. Rei was different from everyone else he had ever dated, and not just in the obvious ways: every girlfriend Teru had had – one night stands notwithstanding – had been a friend first, and a lover only later. With Rei, what little semblance of friendship that was there took a backseat to something more powerful, more primal and terrifying, but somehow more rewarding as well. They protected each other. They loved each other, he supposed… but it was a protective, defensive kind of love.

Of course, Teru reminded himself as he helped Rei into the Ferris wheel car for the second time, those other relationships hadn't exactly worked out. Maybe this was better, somehow. More real, at least. He does for me what I can't do for myself, and I return the favor. Two halves of a whole… or at least two parts of SOMETHING.

He hadn't asked about Saki, although Rei had seemed as though he may have wanted to explain. Teru had wanted today to be their day, his and Rei's, alone – and it had been, for the most part. He hadn't followed his original plan very closely either, but that was more of an issue of practicality. Rei worked hard to hide it, but the more time they spent together, the more Teru was becoming aware of exactly how taxing even the slightest bit of physical exertion could be on his date's badly damaged body. But that hadn't really been a problem either – there was more to do in this area alone than could be accomplished in a single day, and so the plan was put aside in favor of a growing sense of intuition.

Now, as the sun began to set over the harbor in a brilliant blaze of pink and gold, their lips met, repeating what they had been saying wordlessly to one another all day long. I need you. I'll take care of you. I need you.

Rei sighed deeply as the kiss trailed into a natural, peaceful end. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for today."

Teru shook his head. "Don't make it sound like that."

"Like what?"

"Like… I don't know. Like it's over. I mean… we could have dinner, or something?"

"Teru…"

"I mean…" He didn't want to give Rei a chance to say no, not when things had been going so well. "We still have time, right? And there's a lot of… stuff… to talk about." It wasn't much of an invitation, but it was going to have to do.

"Shhhh." Rei raised a single finger to Teru's lips. "I am not trying to refuse your invitation, merely to make one of my own. Dinner is on me."

Teru started to shake his head, but Rei would not allow it. "I insist. Have you ever played at 7th Avenue?"

"What?" Teru blinked, taken back by the apparent non sequitur. "The – the live house?"

"It is not far from here. A few kilometers up the shore."

"Yeah. I know where it is. It's just, um… what does that have to do with dinner?"

Rei looked out the window, in what Teru supposed was the general direction of 7th Avenue, though there was no way that anyone would be able to see it from here. "I used to play there quite often." His voice was quiet, calm, but not sad, and the expression on his face was a peaceful one. "With my first band, when I first came to Tokyo. I suppose it was… nearly twenty years ago, now. We would eat at the same place after every show." He sighed. "It may no longer be there, of course, but if it is…"

Teru was almost afraid to respond. Twenty years ago… He had known that Rei was quite a bit older, that he had been in the music scene for a long time… but twenty years seemed like a lifetime – and to Teru, nearly was. "That would be really nice," he said at last, and meant it. "I hope… I really hope it's still there."

To both of their surprise, it was – a tiny, smoky hole-in-the-wall serving little more that skewers of grilled chicken and beer, crammed unceremoniously between two chain izakayas a few minues' walk from Sakuragicho station. At first, Teru was sure that there must be some mistake – it was hard to imagine Rei ever having eaten at a place like this, much less wanting to return here now. But the look on his face as they took a seat at a table constructed of plastic crates and particle board was one of a lost child, returning to a home he had almost forgotten after years of wandering in the cold.

"The place has hardly changed." Rei's eyes took in everything with a kind of desperation, a longing that Teru recognized from the faces of the elderly – his grandmother and her sister, before she had died, hungering over a box of old photographs or letters from before the war. But Teru bit back his pity along with his curiosity and forced himself to say nothing. He was too interested in what Rei might have to say to him.

They ordered without really bothering to look at the menu, and when their beers came, still frosty and sweating after their recent liberation from some hidden refrigerator, they toasted over the makeshift table, laughing over everything and nothing as though they were old friends. Teru took a swig of his beer and was almost amused to see Rei, connoisseur of fine wines and cognac, do the same.

"We used to come here, after a show." Rei spoke slowly and deliberately, choosing his words carefully – or perhaps just trying unsuccessfully to keep the emotion out of his voice. "This place was old, even then. But the food is good, and the price is right." He met Teru's eyes then, and laughed a short, bitter laugh. "I was not always so… well-off, you know."

Teru bit his lip. "The insurance money."

"Among other things, yes." A silence fell between them, and for a moment Teru was afraid that he had spoiled everything, but to his relief, Rei continued. "I did not know happiness when I had it."

Teru could think of nothing to say, and so he said nothing. Conversations buzzed around them as groups of businessmen worked their way toward Friday-morning hangovers, and smoke from the grill and from cigarettes filled the air with the scent and the illusion of youth and freedom. Teru hadn't had a cigarette all day, but the realization didn't lead to the kind of fierce desire it usually would have. He was captivated by the Rei who had been, a different person entirely from the reclusive genius he had come to know and the successful young singer he had barely glimpsed. The man sitting across from him now was much like himself, a kid from out of town who had come here with a dream and a pocket full of change. It was easy, in that moment, to imagine that the mask, the wig, the layers of clothing that his everything they were supposed to and more, were a costume and not a disguise. It was easy to pretend that everything was normal, and it seemed like a waste to destroy the illusion with words.

Their food began, little by little, to arrive, and they dug in with all the fervor of starving young musicians, speaking only to comment favorably on the food and to order another round of beers, and then another. When the food was gone, they continued to drink, matching one another sip for sip as the smoke in the restaurant mingled with the foggy liberation of alcohol.

"Where are you from, Rei?" Teru broke the silence at last. It was an irrelevant question, really, but one that he had wanted to ask for a long time.

Rei seemed taken aback, but only for a moment. "Aomori," he replied.

Teru nodded. It didn't matter, really, one place was as good as another.

"I came here when I was sixteen. It took me a very long time to have any success with my music."

Teru nodded again, hoping that there would be more to the story, but there wasn't. "Did you know him then? Saki, I mean?" A lump rose in his throat when he said the name, but if it bothered Rei, he didn't let it show.

"No." Rei took another sip of his beer. "He was younger. Too young."

Too young to die. "I'm sorry."

"It is… not your fault."

"It's not yours either." On impulse, Teru grasped Rei's hand from across the table, squeezing it gently and refusing to let go. "It's not."

Rei nodded. "I like your fingernails," he said by way of reply, glancing down at their two hands, intertwined on the table.

Teru blinked. "Um, thanks?" He hadn't meant for the question to creep into his voice, but the change of subject had been abrupt. He had painted his nails the night before, the same bright red that he'd been using at concerts lately, but he hadn't really expected anyone to notice. Rei's nails, in contrast, were too long and ragged, worn down rather than cut, yellowed and dirty around the edges. Teru suddenly wanted to pull his hand away, to undo the terrible contrast he had created, but when he tried to move, Rei held on tight.

"Don't." He must have spoken normally, but in all of the din it sounded like a whisper. "It was a compliment."

"Okay." Teru searched desperately for something else to say, some other subject to bring up. "Um… I had a good time today."

Rei smiled. "As did I."

"So… I guess we should go home. I have to work tomorrow…"

Once more he tried to pull his hand away; once more he was refused. "Come home with me." It was a request, not a demand. Made like a lover, like a friend.

"Okay."

Rei paid for dinner, as he had promised, and they took the train back the way they had came, watching the lights of one city blossom into another and talking about absolutely nothing at all. They arrived at Meguro station a little after nine o'clock – the night was still young, and Teru felt his heart beat a little faster with the thought.

"Wait." He clasped Rei's shoulder gently. "Wait here for just a second. There's something I need to buy."

He disappeared into a drugstore without waiting for a reply, moving at a speed he knew that Rei could not match. It wasn't the kind of place he would have chosen to shop at, but at this time of night the station shops and convenience stores were his only choice. He was lucky, though, in the end: among the shades of red and pink and barely-more-than-clear, he found a bottle of blue nail polish that almost, but not quite, matched the color of Rei's favorite hair. He asked the clerk to put it, along with a cheap file and a bottle of topcoat, in a paper bag so that the contents wouldn't be visible, and slipped it into his own bag to be safe.

Rei was waiting outside, and if he was curious at all about the shopping trip, he was courteous enough not to ask about it. Drugstores sold personal items, too, Teru supposed. Maybe he hadn't made such a bad choice of shops after all. Content with his purchase and the fact that it had remained a surprise, he couldn't help but smile all the way back to the apartment.

Teru took his own boots off, intoxicated fingers struggling a little with the zippers, and then wordlessly began to help Rei with his. You take care of me, I take care of you… and we both had a lot to drink tonight. If Rei didn't thank him, he didn't protest either; a new understanding had somehow arisen between them today, and it was nice, if still a little uneasy.

"Wait for me in the music room," Rei requested, when both of them were rid of shoes and bags and wallets. "I will prepare drinks. No beer, this time, I think." He smiled when he said it, as though it were some kind of private joke.

Teru took the opportunity to dig the little paper shopping bag out of his bag and spread its contents on the table. It wasn't bad for a last-minute manicure kit. He only hoped that Rei would be happy with the idea. So much had gone right today and it had given Teru confidence – but it was hard to tell, sometimes, what would make Rei angry, or worse, sad.

When Rei returned, however, having traded his cane for a small tray laden with whiskey that he seemed to threaten to drop with every step, the gentle smile on his lips widened into what may have been a genuinely happy one. "Teru," he said, and the tone of his voice said everything else.

"You said you liked my nails…" Teru blushed.

"Thank you." Rei laid the tray down on the coffee table and sat beside Teru on the couch. "I… I do not deserve this. But thank you."

"Yes you do." Teru had begun to brush his fingers through the too-perfect strands of Rei's hair, but something tugged at his heart, and he removed the wig, instead. His eyes asked the question, and a barely visible nod was all the answer he needed. It was okay, today. Everything was going to be okay.

The mask was next, and though Rei flinched a little to feel the night air upon his face, Teru felt less discomfort than he had before, and did his best not to let the bit that remained show. He couldn't tell himself that it wasn't that bad – it was – but he could get used to it. They could work out a way to deal with all of the obstacles that lay between them, and if it felt slightly inappropriate to think of his lover's appearance as an obstacle, it was a hell of a lot better than thinking of it as a wall. Obstacles could be overcome, Teru told himself as he removed the long overcoat that hid Rei's too-thin frame.

"Shall we have a drink?" Rei's voice was low and dry – nervous, Teru thought, though with Rei he could never be sure.

You don't have to worry. He reached for a glass, smiling as he raised it in a wordless toast. You don't have to hide from me ever again.

From some hidden pocket in the folds of his skirt, Rei produced a handful of pills. "Painkillers," he explained dryly before washing them down with his own whiskey.

"Did I – ?"

"You did nothing." Rei shook his head. "I had a good time today. I am tired. As are you." He smiled what would have been a gentle smile, has the twist of his lips not made it ghastly. "I do not wish to hide from you any more, Teru. I am tired."

Teru looked down at his own hands, watching them wring themselves together in a silent fit of worry. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I thought…"

"Stop." Rei's voice was firm, but final, and Teru asked no more. Instead, he took Rei's hands in his own and placed them softly, gently, in his lap. Retrieving the nail file from the table, he began to work, shaping the long, jagged fingernails into something that was, if not beautiful, at least simple and even and clean.

He finished the left hand and moved on to the right, hesitating a little as he felt the soft, limp fingers yield completely to whatever pressure he applied. "Tell me if I hurt you," he asked again, without thinking. They were only fingernails, and yet, Rei had entrusted Teru with a part of himself. The responsibility was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Rei closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as though he were embarrassed, and it occurred to Teru that maybe he had repeated the same concern once too often. He opened his mouth to apologize yet again, but before he could, Rei began to speak.

"Do you pity me, Teru?"

Teru considered this for a moment. "Yes," he admitted. "I feel sorry for you, if that's the same as pity. But I admire you too." He finished rounding off the last nail, and paused to examine his work. "I can't imagine…" He couldn't finish the thought, but they both knew how it ended: I can't imagine what it would be like… to be unable to play an instrument, to run, to stand before an audience and earn their applause. But it wasn't only that, Teru had seen that today. To be unable to cut his fingernails, to open a can, to ride a bike or drive a car, to cook or hang the laundry out to dry… The stupid little things we take for granted every day. The things we hate to do but have to… I think I'd want to die.

He surprised himself with the thought. But it was true – he wouldn't want to live like this. "You're stronger than I am," he said aloud, twisting open the bottle of nail polish and beginning to apply it in trembling strokes.

"I am not strong."

Teru shrugged. "You're alive."

"Am I?"

"You have your music. You have friends."

"Friends?" Rei raised his lone eyebrow, questioning.

"You have me," Teru whispered. "The guys in the band too, they want you to keep producing for us. They want to put out an album." He felt a little guilty, realizing that for all his promises, this was the first time he had actually mentioned such a thing to Rei. "And the girl at the live house… Chizuru?"

"You met Chizuru?" Rei's voice grew suddenly cold, suspicious.

Too late, Teru considered that it may have been better to keep that particular meeting a secret. "Yeah," he admitted. "She was worried about you. About us, I guess."

"My personal life is not her business."

Teru shook his head. "I don't think she meant it that way," he explained, although he was pretty sure that she had. "Who… who is she, anyway?" He replaced the cap on the bottle of topcoat and blew gently on Rei's nails to dry them.

Rei did not answer, but rose to his feet, limping across the room to the wall that held his extensive CD collection. Scanning the shelves for only a moment, he quickly located what he was looking for. He removed a single in a thin case and tossed it across the room to Teru, who fumbled to catch it before it fell to the floor.

The cover was one that he recognized – this song had topped the charts a few summers ago, a catchy pop ballad by some busty little idol singer that Teru had to admit he'd been fond of in spite of himself. But there was no way that the perky smile and the perfectly capped teeth on the cover belonged to the girl he had met at the live house – it would take more than a couple of summers to make that kind of change. Still, Rei had intended this as an answer to his question. Teru turned the case over, looking for something that might explain.

And there, at the very top of the back cover, was an answer that raised just as many questions: "Music and Lyrics by Chizuru Sakata."

"She's a composer?" Teru asked, surprised. If she was selling songs to singers like this one, major names on major labels, then what was she doing sweeping the floors at Meguro Rock Maykan?

"No." Rei smiled his crooked smile, clearly amused by whatever secret he was trying to reveal. "I am a composer. She… is a face."

"You sell your music under her name?" It wasn't a question; Teru knew that he was right before he asked. It explained a lot of things – how one insurance settlement could have lasted as long as it had, providing not only for the basic standard of living for which those things intended, but for a luxury apartment in one of the most expensive parts of Tokyo, for recording equipment that rivaled that of any professional studio. For the ability to live like this, without ever leaving these walls.

"Teru."

"Hm?"

"I will not be able to see you for… awhile. A week. Perhaps longer."

Teru blinked, taken aback by the sudden change of subject, as well as what it entailed. "Wh – why? What happened?"

Rei shook his head. "I had a good time today. I thank you for that. Please… do not think that this has anything to do with you."

"But… but why? We… we have a show on Sunday." It was a lame protest and Teru knew it.

"I am sorry." Rei met his eyes, obviously sincere. "I must go… somewhere." He took a deep breath. "For Obon."

Teru felt his eyes grow wide as realization dawned. Obon. The festival of the dead. He had not been home for the holiday in years, but he remembered well enough those summers when he was a kid, kneeling before his family tomb with a loop of prayer beads around one hand, pretending to speak to his ancestors while secretly counting the hours until he would be free to lock himself in his room with his headphones and a tape player, turned up as loud as it would go.

"You're going to see Saki."

"I have to."

Teru bit his lip. "Yeah…" He forced a smile, trying not to feel jealous. "Yeah, I understand."

"Thank you."

"Yeah…" Something had strung Teru's heart, and it was soothed only a little by Rei's warm presense next to him, wrapping him in an awkward, lopsided hug as they sat on the couch, talking about nothing at all until the sun came up.

---

Author's Note: As previously mentioned, there was quite a gap between the writing of the previous chapter and this one. This chapter and my plans for the future of this story have changed quite a bit in the past year, and I feel as though I owe my readers an explanation, if not exactly an apology. This began as a retelling, and now is bordering on not being fanfiction at all. My characters are NOT Erik and Christine, and they have in many ways taken this story into their own hands. Half of what I wrote in the original outline seems horribly out of character now, and so I am working with only a minimal outline and a handful of scenes that have been in my head from the beginning.

I toyed briefly with the idea of reworking the story, downplaying the POTO influences and rewriting it as something publishable, or at least shareable as original fiction. To do that, however, would be to destroy the core of my story… either that, or to publish fanfiction, which I have always said I would never do.

So here it is, and here it remains. I cannot promise where the story will go from here. I do not expect it to follow the POTO storyline… but if you have come this far with me, than I can only hope that you are willing to come further, and to see what these characters do in THEIR story. Thank you all very much for your support of this story.

On a totally unrelated note, I have taken a tiny bit of liberty with some dates in this chapter. Yokohama 7th Avenue wasn't actually around in 1980, although it is a real place. The Ferris wheel is also real. Everything else is just a part of the crazy world of my imagination.