Yuki Kitazawa destroyed Eiri's Uesegi's innocence... But Kitazawa's life was not the only one intertwined with Eiri's childhood. There was another. Once. Kyousuke Kagasaki.

Bad Luck was soaring. Sales of their debut album were close to two million, publicity was at an all time high, and Shuichi Shindou was loving it. It was like a wonderful dream, this incredible fame, success; it was everything he wanted, and then there was Yuki. Since returning from New York, there was a change in him. His anger, his aggressiveness, and his coldness towards Shuichi had significantly lessened; it was as if he'd finally managed to leave Kitazawa behind, as if visiting the grave had acted as closure for him. And best of all, Yuki had finally managed to accept that he was in love with Shuichi. He no longer pushed him away, but let himself relax around him. Of course, he was still annoyed by him at times, but their arguments were brief and infrequent; both seemed happy.

Yuki had been to the bookstore. As a writer, it was sometimes a welcome break to read something somebody else had written for a change. The book was in his pocket. It wasn't a love story, ironically he tended to find them nauseating. He was walking home; the store wasn't far from the apartment he shared with Shuichi, his lover. It felt strange, even just thinking it. Not quite natural just yet. Even now. But it didn't matter; however confusing it was, Yuki understood now. He was in love with Shuichi, no matter how much of a moron he was. He smiled almost imperceptibly to himself. A wide brimmed black hat covered his hair, and his hazel eyes were shaded by dark glasses, even in the gathering dusk, in an attempt to remain unrecognised. Thankfully, the street was quiet. He kept his head down as he walked, wondering absently whether Shuichi would be there when he got back, things had been busy for the band lately. He wondered whether Shuichi would be going on tour again soon. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he would miss him. Shuichi's energy was what kept him going.

Yuki was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't look up quickly enough to see the other man coming his way, and walked straight into him. "Do me a favour and look where you're going, idiot." The stranger hissed. Yuki looked up, insulted, and found himself staring straight into the face of... He choked on his breath, his eyes widening behind the glasses "Kyo?" The man's face went pale as he recognised Yuki, but he quickly recovered himself, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Well if it isn't Eiri Uesugi." The grin bore more resemblance to a smirk, and the bitterness in his tone was impossible to miss. Eiri was silent, not knowing what to say. Kyo laughed and turned away, moving to push past him, but Yuki grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait!" His tone was firm, but Kyo ripped his arm out of Yuki's grasp.


Eiri's own hand dropped to his side. "I'm sorry." Kyo had stopped moving, but didn't turn back to face him. "I was just shocked. I haven't seen you in so long –"

"Yeah yeah." Kyo cut him off. "It's been a while."

"It's been at least fifteen years Kyo. I barely recognised you."

Kyo hesitated before turning back to him. "So?"

Yuki stared at him. "What do you mean 'so?' What are you doing here?"

"I live here." Kyo said. The challenge in his tone was clear, but his eyes were smiling, his head tilted slightly to the side. Yuki realised that he was teasing him by being deliberately vague; but kept his voice low, knowing better than to rise to it. "You live in Kyoto." He countered flatly.

"Not any more."

"What are you talking about?"

"I moved. Obviously."

Yuki's eyes narrowed. Why was he letting this stupid jerk mouth off to him like this? Kyo was making a fool out of him. But... The way he was smiling, maybe it just reminded Yuki of the past; back before he ever met Kitazawa; when he'd been properly happy, and so innocent, both of them.

Now they were both as twisted as one another.

"Where are you living now?" He didn't know why he was asking. It was just that, he couldn't believe this was happening. It was so surreal to be meeting Kyo again, after all this time, everything that had happened. He wasn't really expecting an answer, but was pleasantly surprised when Kyo spoke. "It's just a flat, In the Fujisami building on the main street." He turned to leave. "That doesn't mean I'm inviting you." Yuki stared after him as he walked away. Then tore his gaze away and continued home, dazed.

"Yuki? Are you ok?" For once, Shuichi's wide eyes looked serious. "You've been acting strangely ever since you got home. Where were you anyway?" Yuki didn't look up from the steaming bowl of rice he held in one hand. "I went to the bookstore."

He used the chopsticks in his other hand to lift some more of the rice into his mouth, avoiding the first question. He didn't know if he was ok. Seeing Kyo had brought back memories he didn't care to remember; and now, thinking about how he had immersed himself in self pity all these years made him feel sick when he remembered what Kyo had suffered. How horrifying, to realise that he had remained so distracted by his own misfortunes, that he had not once stopped to consider how Kyo was doing. Not once in over fifteen years.

"Did something happen?" Shuichi probed anxiously. Yuki swallowed and sighed, placing the bowl back on the table. "No." He didn't know why he wasn't telling Shuichi about Kyo, he just couldn't; not yet. He stood up. "Yuki?" Shuichi placed his own bowl down. "aren't you going to eat that?"

"I'm not hungry. I'm going to bed." Shuichi stood up. "are you sure you're ok?" Yuki turned, lifting one hand to Shuichi's cheek; he stepped towards him and pressed their lips together, feeling Shuichi's face grow hot beneath his fingers. He pulled away gently. "Shut up." He let his fingertips trace Shuichi's jaw line as he stepped back, letting him know that he wasn't angry, then he left the room.

The light flickered reluctantly into life as Kyo closed the door softly behind him. He shucked off his jacket and kicked his shoes into the corner beside the door before stepping into the flat. There was a small step up from the miniature hallway before the walls opened out into the main room, the walls were painted a scuffed cream and there was a low table set in the centre of the floor space, a small cushion placed at each end to sit on. An ancient TV was pushed against the wall nearest the door, and on the other side were three windows. It was an incredibly plain room; but then, Kyo had taken no furniture with him when he moved here, and had not acquired much since. He had no interest in decorating the flat; he had only ever lived alone.

The floorboards were cold enough for him to feel it through his socks as he padded over and sat cross legged on one of the lumpy cushions. He didn't turn on the TV, but leant his elbows on the table and dropped his face into his hands.

If he was utterly honest, he had known that Eiri lived here long before he moved, and though he had tried and tried to deny it even to himself. Kyo had always hoped that maybe he would meet him again. The boy who had shown him so much kindness when he had first started to fall apart. But... Eiri was so different now. His face was so much harder than the warm, open, loving boy that Kyo remembered. He knew that Eiri had suffered, but he had never thought about how much it would have changed him, until now, now that he had seen it himself.

The Eiri he had known was long gone. He had no one left.

Everybody who had once loved him, supported him, had left him behind.

He felt the tears on his face before he realised he was crying, curling himself over further until fingers slid into his hair, arms curled protectively up over his head. He hated that sound, that pitiful moan that squeezed from his throat as his shoulders heaved with sobs. It made him feel like a kid again, just as helpless as he had been back when his mother had married that monster. Betraying him, so that Eiri had quickly become the only person who stood by him, even when he had yelled and screamed and thrown it back in his face.

"Eiri..." he choked. Such a sickening sound, to be begging for help from someone who barely even recognised you anymore. Kyo brought both fists slamming down onto the table as a scream erupted from his lips "shut up!" he chastised himself, "you worthless loser!" His eyes were screwed shut but the tears kept coming, rolling downs his cheeks and dropping into his lap. His fists slowly unclenched, the anger that had made his blood surge slowly dissipating until he felt completely empty, and his eyes stopped pushing out tears.

He stood up, crossed to his jacket, and took a half empty packet of cheap cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket. He lit up and opened a window, letting the cool, night air drag the smoke away and dry the last tears on his face as he inhaled deeply.