Never Again ~Mata Tonai~

Late winter, around the month of February

A long drag of a cigarette and a puff of smoke to get it back out of his system. Beer cans littered the wooden floor all around the poor young man who was sprawled on the couch. How many drinks had he had? Fuck, who knew. He couldn't even recall getting up to get the six pack of beer from the fridge. He turned his head and looked over at the coffee table. The ashtray was so far away, and yet he managed to reach it without making his head hurt or his nausea get worse. God, when had he turned into such a monster?

It was bad enough that Eiri had kicked him out a few days ago, but Touma was nice enough to leave a few cigarette packets and a six pack of beer in his fridge just in case Eiri visited. But Shuichi didn't need to save those anymore. Eiri had done what he thought was right after Shuichi had accidentally erased one of the files that Eiri was working on (he couldn't help it; they were getting it on right next to Eiri's laptop). Shuichi then decided it was a good time to see what they actually felt like, and slowly, he was turning into Eiri himself. The writer called many times; every call was ignored. Eiri had visited the apartment that Tohma bought for Shuichi; every knock was ignored. He even tried to ask Hiroshi what was going on, but the guitarist had no clue.

Shuichi groaned slightly as he stood up. It had been a very long night, but he barely remembered any of it. When he walked into the bathroom, he noticed the blond hair dye bottle sitting on the counter, empty. He then looked at the mirror. His hair was somehow blond again, and he had no idea how he had done it, being drunk the night before. He hung his head and took a hold of the bottle. He dropped it into the trashcan and looked back at the mirror. His eyes were lifeless, zombie-like, and his skin was really pale. He hadn't left his house in days, except to get more smokes and beers. Rehearsals were out of the question because the band would begin to worry about him and call Eiri. The blond writer was the last person that the singer wanted to see. It would be really hard to talk to him after the week of ignoring him to the best of his ability.

Shuichi felt himself sway and his vision began to blur. The phone was faintly ringing in his head, and he was afraid to go and answer. But he finally realized that he needed some serious help. But if it was Eiri, he didn't need it. He could handle the situation on his own. Picking up the phone, he answered, "Hello?" his voice was low, but it didn't sound too slurred, luckily.

"Shuichi, is that you? Why haven't you been answering your goddamn phone?" It was Eiri. Shuichi let out a soft groan. "Shu?"

"Yuki," Shuichi began, his hand trembling and his vision slowly turning dark. "Leave…"

He hung up, and the phone landed on the floor next to him as they both fell.

The house had been extremely quiet for days without the young singer hopping around like mad. Eiri was enjoying the quiet and had managed to get where he was in his book, but now that he thought about it, the brat kept him company. But Shuichi would never answer his phone. Eiri was worried for his lover. But would Shuichi even consider Eiri his lover now? They hadn't talked in days and no one was able to get in touch with him. Bad Luck's CD sales had gone through the roof since the media had heard that Shuichi wasn't singing for a while. His songs were all over television, the radio and even in some new movies as background music. Only Eiri didn't want to listen to his lover's singing voice. He wanted to listen to the real thing.

He reached over and picked up the phone, dialing Shuichi's new number. He knew that the brat probably wouldn't answer, but it was at least worth a try. Speaking of which, when was the last time Eiri saw the shrimp? There was a click on the other line, and a faint, "Hello?"

Eiri detected a little slur in the voice of the singer. He knew that it was from alcohol because of the many times he was drunk and talking. There was a pang in his heart. Did Shuichi start drinking out of depression reasons? "Shuichi is that you?" Eiri asked. "Why haven't you been answering your goddamn phone?" there was a soft groan for an answer from the pinkette. "Shu?" Eiri asked more gently, trying to coax the boy into talking.

"Yuki," Shuichi said eventually, the quiver in his voice eminent. "Leave…"

Another click and the line was dead, leaving Eiri to stare at his phone in shock. Shuichi never was so quiet and never hung up on anyone. He quickly pulled out a small notebook and flipped through the pages, looking for a name that would catch his eye quickly. He dialed the number written down and waited. After two rings, there was an answer. "Nakano-san, I need to speak with you and everyone else," Eiri said quickly, "it's about Shuichi."

"He answered the phone?" Hiroshi, shocked out of his mind, didn't seem to believe it. "Shuichi hasn't answered anything in days!"

Eiri only nodded, making everyone's eyes open wide. Ryuichi wasn't being much of a bother; he was the second most worried about Shuichi. He was quiet, mumbling little words to himself to stay calm, but deep inside everyone knew that he was very worried. Ryuichi hadn't heard from his friend in days and he wanted to really know what was going on. But no one knew the extent of the problem. K was always threatening to find the singer and put a gun to his head, but Hiroshi always said no. "Even if you try, how do you know that it'll do something?" he would say, making K put his gun back to its holster. The guitarist always had a very good point.

But the band was in no shape to continue their fame just because the boy was going through a serious depression. And this wasn't even the first time Eiri kicked the young boy out! All the other times, Shuichi handled it perfectly fine. What was the problem this time? Touma took his time to ask Eiri this question. Eiri thought for a moment, "I did yell at him, but when do I not?"

"Eiri-san," Touma began, "this is serious. Shindou-san is never this upset over anything."

Eiri shrugged. "He sounded like he was drunk a little over the phone too."

Hiroshi clenched his fists. What he was hearing made his stomach churn and boil. He had known Shuichi for years. He still remembered that night where he had told Eiri that Shuichi was beat because he was protecting the writer's reputation. He still remembered the night where he had told Eiri to take care of Shuichi and make sure that Shuichi wouldn't cry for anything other than his own stupidity. Where were they now in life?

Shuichi felt his head spin as his eyes opened slowly. He was shocked and wondered why the hell he was laying on the hardwood floor, but then he remembered that Eiri had called him and Shuichi answered the phone, telling Eiri to somehow 'leave' before hanging up and passing out. And he hasn't been drunk in over ten hours! He wasn't used to passing out after not drinking for so long! Slowly he lifted himself off the floor and looked around. Everything looked the same; nothing seemed to be tampered with so that meant no one tried to get in. Shuichi slowly stood up, putting a hand to his mouth as he made his way to the bathroom, staggering.

His whole body felt clammy to the touch, and when he managed to kneel in front of the toilet, he felt his entire stomach empty the alcohol that was in it, making him heave almost five times. Long strings of chunky saliva hung from his mouth, and his body lurched forward every time he had to vomit. He was beginning to shake uncontrollably, and when he sat back, his head spun, so he put his head in-between his knees.

This wasn't the first time that Shuichi had been exhausted in the bathroom on the floor, but it most certainly wouldn't be the last. He got up and flushed the toilet, bending over the sink to rinse his mouth out from the horrible taste of bile. After missing the doorknob multiple times (he then began to wonder how he managed to close the door after him) he opened it, looking at his cluttered living room. He slowly shuffled his way to his long couch, sitting back and leaning his head against the wall. Shuichi looked over and noticed the pack of cigarettes lying on the table next to his couch, grabbed it, took one out and lit it. He turned the television on, wincing as the bright light filled the room. God, what time was it?

Either way, the first thing that Shuichi noticed was that his face was all over the news. Stories such as, "What happened to Shuichi?" "What'll happen to Bad Luck?" and "Where is Shuichi Shindou?". Every single time he read a title like that while flipping through the channels, his stomach seemed to churn even more. But what could he do?

He froze. An amazing thought just came to him. Where is Shuichi Shindou, they ask?

He's dead.

That was it! Make a fake name, create a new band, travel around the world, start a new life! Forget about Eiri and Hiroshi and Ryuichi! Just start anew! But where would he find the members of the new band? What would they be called? And how would Shuichi call himself? A name that didn't sound a lot like his and that meant something important to him. Never again will he go back to the past…Mata…Mata Tonai…

Mata Tonai! The blond haired lead singer of a new band called…Spice! That's it! Shuichi threw a hand in the air and laughed at his own idea. "So far, so good!"

Few months later, in early summer, during the month of June

The once very famous band of Bad Luck still hadn't given up looking for the singer they loved. They had found out from Touma that Shuichi had left the apartment with everything still intact. Fans around the country were also trying to find out where he had gone, but with no avail. Out of every one of Shuichi's fans, only one stood out. His blond hair was hidden under a hat and sunglasses covered his amethyst eyes. This was Mata Tonai, lead singer of the very now famous band Spice. But there was more of a secret to this. Mata knew Shuichi very personally. They were in fact the same person. But Shuichi never told that secret to anyone, not even his own band members. He was happily living an 'Eiri-free-life' and didn't want anything better than to always get home to his new apartment and drink a few beers.

A red head ran up to him and slapped a hand against the boy's back, "Mata, sorry to keep you waiting!"

Shuichi groaned and smiled back at him. "Oh, don't worry. I was actually a little early myself."

This was another new habit. Shuichi was known in the past to be late on numerous occasions and so now he had to make sure that he was early to meet his band mates. He looked over at the guitarist of his band, Nuromo Kusai, and took in the sight of the man's green eyes. A ginger at its greatest. But Shuichi had long stopped liking men over women. He had had three girlfriends during the few months he was Mata, and each one lasted no longer than a few weeks. For some reason whenever things began to heat up, Shuichi would suddenly remember Eiri's face, making him stop and leave the date. Then a few days later the tears would fall as Shuichi broke the horrible news to the poor girl. They never lasted long.

The park was empty today, making it a perfect day to hang around the place and talk to close friends like Nuromo. Shuichi didn't know where Aiyama Tsunai, the keyboardist in their band, was at the moment, but he thought it was actually a better idea to have a guy's day out, since he and Nuromo never got a chance to talk like normal men. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy having Aiyama around or anything; it was just that he needed some time with someone who he knew that he would trust. In fact, Aiyama was one of his past girlfriends, and he was lucky that she stayed in the band after he had broken up with her.

Nuromo folded his arms behind his head. "So, ready for that next concert we have coming up?"

"In all honesty, I am," Shuichi replied. His confidence had grown in the past few months.

Nuromo chuckled, "That's great dude. You're always so confident about everything." That statement made Shuichi turn and look at his friend. Nuromo was staring up into the sky. "I always get really nervous before a live. I don't know how you do it."

Shuichi shrugged and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. Taking one out, Nuromo held out his lighter and Shuichi lit his smoke. He took a long drag and sighed, the deadly smoke somehow calming his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a red head accompanied by a brunette and his entire composure shattered. Hiroshi was with Ryuichi here, at the park? Shuichi thanked his sunglasses for covering his wide eyes and he was very thankful that a few months ago he had drunkenly dyed his hair blond, but it was still nerve-wracking. Not even his cigarette would be able to calm him down. What he wanted to do was go home and drink a few beers, throw the alcohol back up, and pass out, ready to face a tremendous hangover the next day.

But the disguise wasn't enough to conceal the fact that Shuichi was actually Mata Tonai, and somehow from far away (even before he was able to do this) Ryuichi noticed the new singer from across the way, running towards him and tackling him in a bone crushing hug. Shuichi gulped for a second, dropping his cigarette. Did Ryuichi figure out that Mata was actually Shuichi? "Mata-san!" No. "You're so cool!" Freaking. "Sign this!" Way.

Ryuichi was holding up a picture of Mata singing during one of his concerts, and Shuichi almost teared up. He remembered the time when Ryuichi had done the same thing to him after a rehearsal, before getting picked up by Noriko screaming for her to let go because he and Shuichi were friends. Ryuichi looked up at him with big eyes. "No?" he fumbled around his pockets. "I'll trade!" those words were familiar. "I'll trade you my autograph! And my ring, I've got plenty of these!"

That's the same old Ryuichi, Shuichi thought with a smile, taking a pen out of his pocket and signing the paper. Ryuichi squealed with joy, wrapping his arms around the singer once more. In the past, Shuichi would never give his autograph to someone else who was famous (with the exception of Eiri at the time) and tried to put them down nicely. Here, as Mata, he couldn't do such a thing because it would be too Shuichi-like and from what he remembered, Shuichi had died months ago. "Hey," Ryuichi began, making Shuichi snap out of his thoughts. "Do you know a Shuichi Shidnou?"

His mind went blank. It was high time to tell someone, but how would he put it so that it didn't seem so suspicious? He put a hand on his chin, pretending to think. "I believe I met him once…"

Hiroshi had caught up to Ryuichi and was standing by his side, breathing heavily. "Yes, I did meet him, why?" Shuichi asked the pair.

"Because he's been missing for months and no one knows where he went. Everyone; Bad Luck, Nittle Grasper, and his fans are worried. Yuki-san is too," Hiroshi explained, looking down sadly. "We've been trying to get in contact with him since."

Shuichi felt no pain in his chest when his old friend had mentioned Eiri being worried, and that scared him a little. Before, any word said about the author would pique his interest. He sighed. "I remember the words he said to me, but they weren't pretty." He turned to them, glaring, his amethyst eyes finding refuge in Ryuichi's blue ones. "Would you like to hear them?"

Nuromo's voice came back to them. "Mata…"

"'I'm going to die.' was what he said." Shuichi let out a quick sigh and turned around. "But like I said, that was long ago. For all I care, he could be already dead."

Hiroshi pushed Shuichi to the wall behind them, screaming, "Don't fuck with me! Shuichi would never say such a thing! If he's dead, then where the hell is his body?"

Shuichi shrugged, taking another cigarette from his pocket. "Why should I even care? I don't like Bad Luck."

Hiroshi slammed the boy to the wall again, enraged at what he was hearing. He wanted to beat him so much at the moment, but couldn't because he knew that it would just turn out really bad. Fights with people who he knew were big and powerful always turned out to be the worst of any other fight. The urge to punch Shuichi was overwhelming and he knew that if he didn't back down, things were going to get ugly and found out by the media. Hiroshi decided to let go and back away, pulling Ryuichi with him. "Whatever you say," he said, "I won't believe. Shuichi's alive. I know that he is. There's no way that little kid has the guts to kill himself."

Walking away, he didn't see Shuichi smirk at him. "You'd be surprised, Hiro," he called out, putting severe emphasis on Hiroshi's name. "You'd really be surprised…"

One month later, in the heat of July

Eiri sat at his desk in his office. After months of not having Shuichi around, he wasn't used to the emptiness. There weren't any more tackles after Shuichi came home from a long day of work. The annoying "Yuki, I'm home!" exclamation was gone as well. Eiri didn't like to admit that he missed his little brat. But there was also the problem with no more steamy hot, passionate sex. God, how he missed those days. He looked at the calendar by his desk. How many months had it been? Six? God, he didn't even know anymore. He was too preoccupied with finding his lover to even care anymore.

The phone was ringing loudly next to him, making him flinch and answer it quickly with a growled out answer. The line was silent for a little bit before a small voice said, "Yuki?"

Eiri almost died. "Shuichi, you haven't talked to me in ages! Where have you been?" he demanded, hearing a little squeak come from the young singer.

"I'm really sorry, Yuki. Really, I am. I just…I just didn't know how to face you after you kicked me out like that. I was really scared…I want to see you, but I've changed. Seriously, I did. You wouldn't believe what had happened." Oh dear God he was jumbling his words which only meant one thing. The brat was crying. "I don't know how you'll react if you see me, Yuki. You might hate me for what I did to myself."

Eiri began to fear the worst. What if Shuichi began cutting himself? Or purposely hurting himself? To Eiri, anything seemed to be deadly, and he was starting to panic. "Shu, you're okay, right?" he asked slowly, hearing Shuichi's labored breathing on the other line. "Nothing too bad?"

"I want to see you again, Yuki," Shuichi replied, his voice cracking with tears. "I really, really do. But I'm afraid to leave. Whenever I do, I feel like I'm gonna have some sort of panic attack or something."

Eiri thought for a minute. "Where are you right now?"

He had driven faster than he ever had before. Over one hundred kilometers in a seventy kilometer zone, Eiri had wanted to drive as fast as he could without killing himself like he almost did that one night just to see Shuichi. His instincts were getting to him and Shuichi's face was running across his mind. Eiri was going to be able to hold his lover again, kiss him, and do naughty things to him. He sped past another car as his pants began to tighten.

How much longer was it going to be? He had already been driving for over five minutes, following the exact directions that Shuichi had given him, but he had no idea that the apartment building would be this far. And to add to all the time consuming driving, the traffic at this hour was mad! It was late at night; people should be at home, spending time with families and having drinks, not driving along the highway like some fool! Eiri had the overwhelming urge to honk the horn of his car, but that would most likely get him in trouble.

Soon, the apartment was in view and the car began to move faster and the scenery began to flash before Eiri's eyes. He was so close to grabbing Shuichi and pulling him into his arms, holding him tightly, whispering the words "I love you" into his ear seductively, hoping to have a great night with him. God, he just wanted to smell the cute strawberry scent from all the pockies that he would eat. As he got out of the car, he stared at the paper with Shuichi's room number on it using the light from the streetlamp. Fourth floor, room 405. Supposedly it was an impressive room with a master bed and bath. Eiri would get lucky tonight.

That is, if Shuichi would even let Eiri touch him.

The parking lot was massive, almost empty, though, which gave Eiri and amazing spot to park right by the door. He locked his car, going up to the apartment building and opening the front doors. People in the hall looked at him, mouths agape, wondering what the hell Eiri was doing in a small apartment house like that one. He hit the elevator button, ignoring the stares and whispers and waited for the elevator to come down. The doors slid open, and he hit the button to lead to the fourth floor. More waiting. He was sick of it.

The golden plaque on room 405 was the best looking apartment number in the building. It was no surprise that Shuichi would get the best room, so Eiri knocked twice. A small "it's open" answered his knock, so Eiri let himself in. He didn't smell the strawberries he had hoped to.

Cigarette smoke filled his nostrils.

It made him nauseous, despite the fact that he himself smoked. He walked inside a little, slipping off his shoes, and looked into the small living room. There was something curled up on the couch, a blanket over its head, and it was trembling. On the coffee table sat a half-finished package of smokes and two empty beer cans. The entire room reeked of smoke and alcohol. Eiri looked at the figure. "Shu…what's all this?"

Shuichi sniffled. "I told you. You wouldn't like what I did to myself."

Eiri reached for the blanket, but Shuichi backed away. Eiri tried again, and managed to grab it. At that moment, Shuichi began fighting back. The blanket flew off of Shuichi, and Eiri stared at the blond mess of hair on his head. For a second, Eiri didn't see Shuichi, but instead saw Mata. "Shuichi, why…?"

Shuichi looked up at him, bags under the beautiful eyes that Eiri knew best. "See? I changed. I'm Mata Tonai now. The Shuichi you know, he died."

Eiri clenched his fists. "No he didn't!" he took Shuichi by his shoulders and pushed him against the couch. "I know for a fact that he didn't, brat!" Shuichi refused to look at the older man. "How do I know? Because he's sitting right damn in front of me!"

"Yuki, you don't understand—" Shuichi's voice was cut off when Eiri crashed his lips onto his lovers, kissing the young singer. Shuichi pushed his palms against Eiri's chest, trying to push him away, put it was useless. The writer was too strong. Shuichi desperately wanted to scream, to call for help, but he couldn't. He felt the button of his jeans get undone by two slender fingers, and one hand reached down to wrap around the heated arousal hidden within his pants. Shuichi managed to break the kiss to let out a hoarse cry, gripping Eiri's hair without meaning to. The writer's hand pumped up and down, making the younger boy shiver beneath him, moaning in reluctant pleasure. What had happened to pushing Eiri away?

Eiri didn't let Shuichi climax, that would have to wait a serious while. For now, he wanted to be in the singer and to pound into him hard, making Shuichi call out his name in pure ecstasy. He lifted Shuichi up and pulled his pants and boxers down, completely exposing his lower half to the cool air, causing goose bumps to appear all over his skin. Eiri lifted him high enough to see the puckered little hole that was hiding between his butt cheeks. He licked his fingers slightly before pushing his index into the little hole, making Shuichi gasp out. It was tight in there, but what was Eiri expecting? They hadn't had contact in months.

Shuichi trembled in his lover's arms as he felt something warm lightly prod his entrance lightly. "Wh-what?" Shuichi questioned, looking at Eiri with worried eyes. "No…no lubrication?"

Eiri chuckled. "I'm sorry, babe. Not this time around." He plunged in, making Shuichi's purple eyes widen in shock. Shuichi hadn't felt this kind of pain in quite some time, and it seemed almost new to him. Eiri stayed where he was, deeply hidden inside the warm and moist cavern that he had missed for the past couple months, before looking at the little man squirming under him. Shuichi looked very pitiful at the moment, and so Eiri wrapped his arms around him in a loving embrace. Shuichi blinked his tears away in shock.

But the pain was just about to begin.

The next day

Shuichi didn't want to get up. Moving was very hard to do for him since the night before, and he didn't want to look Eiri in the face either because he knew that a meltdown was coming up to meet him. His entire lower half was struck with a numbing pain, and he struggled just to turn around. His turning around wasn't slowed by the pain though, instead it was slowed by an arm wrapped around the young blond's waist, keeping him from moving. It was somewhat of a surprise to see the writer holding onto something—let alone someone—so preciously. Shuichi thought about savoring the moment and staying snuggled in the warm pair of arms that he had missed for years, or getting up and getting a cigarette that he really needed at the moment.

A short snort sounded from the author as he turned around, dragging the painstruck boy with him as he went. To Eiri, there was no letting go of the man that he had been looking for for months on end, but instead there would be time to hug and cherish the time that he had to spend with him. Letting go such precious cargo would be too much. And Eiri also knew that Shuichi would want to leave the bed soon since there was probably a serious addiction that he had to take care of, but Eiri knew of that addiction well. It had gotten worse during the months that Shuichi wasn't around, and he had almost died many different times. But today things would finally change.

Eiri felt his little singer move around slightly, so Eiri tightened his grip around him, saying, "Quit."

"Huh?" Shuichi asked, puzzled by what his partner was referring to.

"Quit smoking," he told him sternly, turning Shuichi around to face him. His hazel eyes looked almost deadly. "And drinking."

Shuichi let out a short chuckle. "And I want you to dye your hair back to that pink that I loved. It always reminded me of strawberries."

Shuichi felt tears coming into his eyes. Would he begin to buy strawberry pocky like he used to? All he had been buying for the past couple months was canned food, beer and cigarettes. Breaking a habit like that would be tough for him, no matter what anyone said. He blushed lightly as Eiri's thumb brushed away tears that were hiding in the corner of his amethyst eyes, and smiled soon after. These were the touches that he had missed most of all. They were tender and light, and they were ones that Shuichi hadn't felt from anyone else in a very long time. Eiri's arms wrapped around the thin waist that Shuichi was hiding ever since he had begun his crazy addictions. "Can you promise me that?" he whispered huskily.

Shuichi shivered slightly at the closeness of his breath. "Can you promise me that you won't tell anyone that you met up with me tonight?" he asked shyly, looking at his lover's face. "And can you meet me here about three or four times a week?"

"I think I can do that," Eiri said.

"Then I'll do my best to stop with the drugs," Shuichi replied heavily, clinging onto Eiri tightly.

"Hey, brat, you're holding too tight," Eiri complained, but Shuichi just held on even more. He giggled, feeling himself go back to the old Shuichi that he was. "Brat…!"

"What do you mean you're quitting?" Nuromo asked his friend as he held out a lighter to him. They were in the middle of the park, hats and sunglasses on to protect who they really were. Shuichi wasn't holding a cigarette, but out of pure instinct Nuromo had taken out his own lighter and flicked it on. It was at that moment that Shuichi had told him that his smoking days were going to soon end.

"It's like I told you," Shuichi repeated, "I'm going to quit smoking. Someone important told me to."

"Who?" Nuromo asked, sliding his little tool into his jean pocket.

Shuichi chuckled and stuck his tongue out. "I can't tell you."

Nuromo groaned. "Mata, you could tell me! I'm your best friend!"

Shuichi didn't reply, just looked over at the fountain that was spewing water, and saw a certain writer walking around with his own cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Shuichi began walking towards him, leaving Nuromo to wonder what was actually going on. But he wouldn't ask anyway.

Shuichi caught up to his partner and patted him on the back, causing him to almost burn himself with his own smoke. "Brat!" he already knew who it was, since he had come to the park on purpose. Shuichi just smiled and held out his hand. "What?"

"Smoke," he said calmly, turning his head to see if Nuromo was there or not. "I need one."


"Yuki!" Shuichi hissed, reaching into his shirt pocket and taking out his half-empty box of cigarettes. Eiri growled and protested, but Shuichi had already taken a cigarette out and had lit it. There was no stopping him when it was in his mouth, the toxic smoke filling his lungs and make him blow it back out the best he could. Eiri hated the face that Shuichi made, one that was so full of pleasure and relaxation because of the fact that he had fulfilled his wish. Eiri wanted Shuichi to make that face for him and only him. Eiri took the cigarette away from the young man. "I said no."

Shuichi growled at him. All he wanted to do was calm down and have one cigarette, that's all. Maybe he did promise Eiri that he would stop smoking. But even Eiri knew that stopping in one day was impossible, right? "Yuki, please," Shuichi begged as Eiri stepped on the cigarette. "I need to smoke just one."

"What if that one killed you?" Eiri asked, making Shuichi step back once. There was a low chuckle and the writer took his lover by the hand. "Come with me."

Shuichi felt his cheeks heat up. Why was Eiri acting this way all of a sudden? He had been extremely rough the night before but now he was gentle and calm, almost like an Eiri that Shuichi had never seen before. The black car that Eiri had kept for many months because of the fact that on some occasions he could still smell the strawberry smell that Shuichi always had on him was sitting by the curb, attracting many pedestrians to it, making it hard to get by. "Hey!" he called, and everyone made way. "Let us pass!"

Murmurs of 'Isn't that Eiri Yuki?' and 'Is Yuki-san with Mata-san?' resonated from different people, and it all went quiet when Eiri opened the door for his love. Shuichi slid into the passenger seat, and looked around, trying to see if there were any hidden cigarettes that he could get his dirty little paws on. But there weren't any. He did find a package of strawberry pocky that he immediately tore open and began to eat. He missed the wonderful taste of strawberries and when Eiri sat in the driver seat, he smiled. "I see you've found my stash."

Shuichi giggled. "Why do you have strawberry flavored pocky in your car, Yuki?"

"Because it always reminded me of you," Eiri replied, putting his car into drive and slowly moving away from the crowd and the curb. Shuichi stopped eating.

"Yuki, did you miss me?" Shuichi asked, turning to face Eiri.

The older blond didn't reply, and Shuichi took his hat off. "Yuki, answer me, please."

"Brat, if I answer you, how will I know if I'll break into tears like that one time?" Eiri replied, grounding his teeth and gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned a pale white. Shuichi's breath stuck to the walls of his throat. "I…I missed you a lot, Shu. A lot more than you would think. I know there are stories about me trying to kill myself on the news, but they're all fake. I haven't finished a single book since you left, not even the one that you erased," he said with accusation in his voice, turning to face the young singer who had cowered in his seat. "But that was because you were my inspiration, my life."

"Yuki…" tears were slowly flowing down his cheeks, making his vision blurred.

"Eiri," Eiri muttered, making Shuichi gasp and look at him.

"What?" he asked, smiling, thinking that he was hinting on what he was hoping.

"Call me Eiri now," Eiri told him, not taking his eyes off of the road ahead of him. Shuichi on the other hand, couldn't believe his ears as his grin spread across his entire face. Eiri looked at him for a second and muttered, "What?"

"Nothing," Shuichi replied, "Eiri."

Nuromo stood in the studio, his hands on his hips and an angry look on his face. How long had he waited for the lead singer of his band to get here? Thirty—forty-five minutes? More than that? He checked his watch again. Patience was never his virtue. Waiting was one of the few things that really got him mad. But Shuichi had never been this late before. Shuichi was always about ten minutes early, sometimes fifteen. Nuromo had begun to worry.

Blond hair spilled from a baseball cap as Shuichi walked alongside Eiri, trying hard not to take a hold of his hand in public. He saw his guitarist and waved calmly, smiling. Nuromo didn't reply, and he just turned around, walking into the booth. Shuichi stared after him sadly, and Eiri took his arm and turned him around to face him, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. Shuichi let out a soft moan and pushed the older man away slightly, saying, "Eiri…stop it…"

Eiri lifted Shuichi's chin with two fingers so that the young singer was looking into his eyes. "I'll meet you later, okay?"

Shuichi nodded, too much in a daze to answer him. Eiri left, leaving Shuichi to deal with Nuromo on his own. He opened the door into the booth and walked in, looking around, spotting his friend. Nuromo was holding his guitar, strumming a few chords, not even lifting his head up to look at Shuichi. "Hey, Nuromo," Shuichi greeted, taking his hat off and fixing his hair. "What's up?"

Nuromo sniffed the air. "You smell that?" he asked, putting his nose high into his air. "I smell strawberries…"

Shuichi's face flushed. "Oh really? That must be me; I ate strawberry pocky on the way here."

Nuromo raised an eyebrow, setting his guitar down. "Is that a new addiction? Did that guy give them to you?"

Shuichi's blush went away. "That guy is a good friend and that's why he bought me a few packs of it. I told him that I was quitting." Shuichi walked over and began tracing the strings of Nuromo's guitar. "He thought it was a good idea."

"That Shuichi kid from Bad Luck used to always eat strawberry pocky, remember? Are you turning into him?" Nuromo gave Shuichi a glare as he snatched his black guitar from Shuichi's hands.

Shuichi let out a sigh and began hitting keys on the keyboard. "I doubt that I would be able to turn into Shuichi Shindou. That kid was a huge annoyance with his bouncy attitude. I seriously think that Touma-san just let him stay since he was so close to Eiri Yuki."

Nuromo swatted Shuichi's hand away. They both knew that if Aiyama found them fiddling with her equipment she would murder them with whatever they touched. Shuichi let out a chuckle and began to strum the strings despite Nuromo holding the neck of his guitar. Nuromo let out a strangled cry and set his guitar down before reaching over and messing Shuichi's hair up. The singer let out a laugh as Nuromo took him in a head-lock, throwing him on the ground playfully. Shuichi had trouble keeping his laughter from escalating a few octaves because then he would really sound like Shuichi instead of sounding like Mata. And then Nuromo would have a serious problem since he was friends with Shuichi, a person he hated due to personality reasons.

And he did what he had hoped that he wouldn't do. His laughter went high and squeaky, his voice was cracking, and he sounded just like Shuichi when he yelled out, "Stop!" in a panicked frenzy.

Nuromo's hands froze, and he stared down at Shuichi. "Dude, it's either your voice can get seriously high, or you can impersonate Shuichi perfectly or I'm about to say something I wish I would never say."

Shuichi made sure that his voice went back down to its proper volume. "What? No way, it's probably a coincidence."

Nuromo still didn't believe what his friend was trying to tell him. "Are you sure?"

Shuichi nodded, too nervous to answer because he knew that he was most likely busted anyway. He hated himself for letting things get out of control. It was one thing to just accidentally have a very small slip when in the middle of a sentence but he had laughed just as loudly and obnoxiously as he used to when he was still the old Shuichi that he was trying to get back to. But despite possibly being found out as Shuichi, he felt glad that one secret was about to get off of his chest. He had been using a fake identity for months and months, and it would be good to finally go back to the old life that he had with Eiri. Nuromo stood up, dusting his pants off. "Whatever man, I could believe you."

"You sure?" Shuichi asked, reaching up to take Nuromo's hand, but pulled him back down to the ground next to him. "You hate Shuichi. If suddenly I started to sound like him, I wouldn't want you to hate me."

Nuromo ruffled the boys blond hair. "I'm very, very, very fucking sure," he replied, standing up again.

"Nuromo!" Shuichi gasped. "You never curse, you ass!"

Three months later, before Halloween

The days and nights were getting colder, but Shuichi had a very warm person to huddle up to every few nights. Eiri had kept his promise, visiting three times a week, every week, no matter what the weather was like. Every few nights they would clean up a little of the apartment house, since Shuichi was slowly stopping his addictions. In the few months that they had been working together, they had managed to make the living room, kitchen and dining area completely spotless in terms of drugs. In the kitchen cabinets were glasses, bowls, and boxes with cereal. The couch was replaced with a leather black one, and the walls were repainted beige. The dining table was cleared off all its beer cans and cigarette boxes. Meals were finally able to be eaten on the table instead of on the couch in the living room. There were some nights where Shuichi would 'accidentally' forget his promise to Eiri and drink a few cans of beer that were still in the fridge (they technically belonged to Eiri, but Shuichi still drank them) and they would have passionate sex until the sun rose the next day.

But all the while, Shuichi was still keeping far from everyone in Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper as much as possible, since any type of meeting would rouse questions that Shuichi would hate to answer. But Eiri was the only person that Shuichi was even willing to meet, and even then they would be working hard on getting Shuichi's life back in order. Eiri's book writing has gotten much better since he had been speaking and meeting more with the singer, and so far he had more than what Shuichi had previously deleted. But he was still far from his final product, and it would take him many days to finally complete it. Especially if Shuichi kept drinking his beer every few nights.

He had noticed that he was spending more and more nights at Shuichi's place instead of his own. In all honesty, it didn't bother him, but he hated carrying his laptop from place to place. Shuichi had visited Eiri once, maybe twice, but it was a little frightening since if people found him out, things could get really ugly since Eiri would be accused of 'cheating on Shuichi with Mata.' Even though they both were the same people, and both of them knew that, others might not have the same easiness with understanding. Not only that, but Tatsuha would probably being fanning over him, Shuichi's body, or poor Mata himself. Tatsuha had been in serious touch with Eiri in the past few months that Shuichi wasn't talking to anyone, wondering when the poor singer was going to reappear in the singing business and he had scolded Eiri for kicking him out. Eiri replied by throwing Tatsuha out of his house, telling him that as long as he was older, the rules would never change for anyone, including his lover (At the time, Tatsuha had no idea that Shuichi had deleted a whole entire book from Eiri's laptop).

One particular night, Eiri had been rummaging through the closet that Shuichi had never used until it was cleaned, he had found a skimpy, leather stripper outfit that when showed to Shuichi, was 'never used and I have no idea how the hell that got in my closet!' and of course, Eiri asked how Shuichi knew that it was in his closet since Eiri never mentioned it. And that night was full of cock rings, spanks, skimpy outfits, amazing foreplay, and very, very, very passionate sex (according to Eiri).

Despite that, Shuichi had to have serious practice with Spice later that day, and he was exhausted from the night before. Sadly, Nuromo had called the night before (right before Eiri found the outfit) and said that this rehearsal was mandatory because they had a concert coming up in the next few weeks. Since the call, Shuichi was wondering if he should ask Eiri to come and see him perform, but it would be really risky, especially if Nuromo saw them together. And the concert was supposed to be in front of millions of people, both live and watching on television.

Until then, Shuichi just had to think and get dressed, hoping not to wake Eiri from his deep slumber and get another round.

A few hours later

The guitar was loud, but the keyboard was louder, and for some reason, Shuichi couldn't keep up with the volume of both instruments. Constantly, they had to stop, and Shuichi would gulp down half of a liter of water, but it didn't do anything to help him. Nuromo and Aiyama asked him time and time again if he wanted a cigarette, but he had refused, saying that he had just quit a while ago. Both band members would shake their heads and spend five minutes talking among themselves, trying to find something out. Nuromo looked over at Shuichi, "Is it that blond guy's fault?"

Shuichi swallowed a mouthful of water, staring back at him, "What? No," he lied, rubbing his back, trying to get rid of the numbing pain that lingered there. "I'm fine. Just not feeling it today, sorry guys."

"Listen, sorry isn't going to cut it," Aiyama announced. "You're always in the mood for singing. Weren't you the one who made up this group?"

Shuichi didn't reply, and Nuromo got frustrated. He put his guitar down forcefully and grabbed Shuichi by the collar of his shirt, startling him. Nuromo almost never got this mad, just like he never cursed out loud to anyone, and he never showed any type of anger to Shuichi. He growled at the singer, "You better have a damn good reason for this. Ever since I saw you with that man, you've been acting like shit."

Shuichi pushed him away, stepping around him and grabbing his coat. "You know what? Fine then, until you can accept what the fuck I'm going through, I suggest we stop meeting." And he walked out, leaving Nuromo and Aiyama to stare after him, wondering if he was actually feeling okay.

Shuichi stomped downstairs, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and putting his sunglasses and hat on. Staff in the building questioned him, but he ignored them, wanting nothing more than to go see Eiri and at least start over as Shuichi once again. He would dye his hair back to the color that everyone knew Shindou Shuichi as. He wanted to go back to being the lead singer of Bad Luck. He would do that right now.

Instead of going back to the apartment, he headed straight for NG studios, where he knew that Suguru and Hiroshi would be probably lounging around since they didn't have a singer to sing their songs. Touma would be glad to see him back, even if he was Mata, and K would probably shoot the crap out of the poor guy. Ryuichi would be so excited to have his old friend back so that they could sing and play around together. It would be his old life all over again.

Walking through the door, he heard multiple gasps as people stared at him, whispers going back and forth between them. Shuichi ignored them and took the elevator upstairs, walking out into the hallway that he had walked through many months in the past. From what he remembered, Touma's office was not too far from where he was. He found the large door and knocked, waiting until Noriko opened the door, surprising him. She gasped loudly, "Mata-san?"

Shuichi spotted Ryuichi from his vantage point where he was standing, and met the singer's eyes. Touma was sitting at his desk, staring at the door as well. "May I come in?" Shuichi asked, cocking his head to the side.

Noriko stepped aside, allowing the famous boy to come in and greet Touma, who was surprised out of his skin. "I would usually say that business is business, but this is really surprising," he said. "What brings you here, Mata-san?" he gestured to a chair and Shuichi sat down.

"Touma-san, I'll throw it straight out to you, if you tell those two to leave, please," Shuichi said, pointing to the other two who were staring at him with wide eyes. They both nodded and walked out the door, shutting it closed behind them. Shuichi looked at Touma and took off his hat, running a hand through his hair to fix it. "In all honesty, this is the first time in weeks that I've actually been a little nervous," Shuichi confessed, smiling at the older man.

"Mata-san, I—"

Shuichi stopped him, and took off his sunglasses. Touma looked into the amethyst eyes and noticed that they seemed very familiar to him. It was when Shuichi let out a big smile and said, "Long time no see!" did Touma finally understood. He made sure that his voice didn't get too loud. "Shindou-san, it's a pleasure to see you again," he said, reaching over his desk to take Shuichi's hand for a short shake. "This is unexpected, though."

Shuichi chuckled. "I remember one night about a week after Eiri threw me out, I got drunk and dyed my hair this lousy color. Ever since then I've been Mata Tonai, lead singer of Spice."

Touma couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You of all people got drunk?"

"I'm eighteen, for fuck's sake!" Shuichi fought back.

Touma only chuckled and put his hands together. Shuichi sat back and waited for what the president of NG was about to say. "Why did you decide to come back months later?"

"Well…" Shuichi started. "You see, I've recently ended a serious addiction thanks to Eiri, and I wanted to see how everyone here was doing. Of course, Ryuichi knows the story of Shuichi supposedly dying and so I'm forced to kinda keep at a low before showing everyone that I'm really alive. But to be blunt, I plan to have a concert with Bad Luck again."

Touma raised an eyebrow. "How are you to have a concert if you don't plan to meet with your band?"

"I have a plan that I won't reveal just yet, Touma-san." Shuichi let out a broad smile and stood up, stretching. "For now, I have to get home to Eiri."

At first, Shuichi had planned to go to his own house and let Eiri meet him there, but instead he was going to surprise Eiri by showing up at his apartment door. The walk was somewhat agonizing to say the least, since it was taking so long and yet he still did not feel comfortable enough going to the large apartment house that Eiri lived in. Fears of Eiri being accused of cheating on Shuichi with Mata were bustling inside of his head and the thoughts just didn't want to stop. However, seeing Eiri a few times a week always got Shuichi back into his old self.

He stood in front of the door and knocked, waiting for Eiri to open it, but let his shoulders sag when no one did. He turned the knob and found the door to be unlocked, which was so unlike Eiri, but something very important must have come up for him to forget to lock his door. Shuichi slipped in, taking his shoes off quietly and tiptoeing down the hall and into the large living space, where he knew Eiri wouldn't be. The writer would most likely be smoking in his office, typing his fingers off, so Shuichi went over to the office door and listened carefully. He became worried when he didn't hear the sound of keys being hit rapidly like they usually did. Maybe Eiri had worked hard the night before (at Shuichi's place, in Shuichi's bed, next to Shuichi himself) and was still sleeping after having an amazing night with his lover. Shuichi went over and threw the door to Eiri's bedroom open, crying, "Eiri, I'm home!" but freezing at what he had seen.

Mid-thrust, Eiri had stopped, turning around with pure terror in his usually cold eyes. Under him lay a person—a girl—that Shuichi recognized almost instantly. A bullet shot through the singer's heart. "Oh…um…I guess—I must be interrupting something…right?" Shuichi blinked away a couple of tears as he backed away. "I guess…so…huh…?" he bolted out of the room, ignoring Eiri's call for him to come back. He heard the heavy footsteps as Eiri followed, calling his name, asking him to stop and listen. Shuichi on the other hand was through with listening to people tell him what to do and when to actually do it. He was going to keep running no matter what happened; no matter if he fell and scraped his knee, no matter if his legs and thighs began burning in exhaustion. Running was all he could do at the moment.

And he would do it if it killed him.

He ran until he was sure that Eiri had stopped following him, and he had noticed that his legs had carried him to the same park that the two had met years ago, and the memory brought Shuichi to tears again. He had been on track during his school years, but he couldn't remember his legs being in such pain. Maybe it was because he had been running without knowing where he was actually going. He fumbled through his pockets to find his cell phone, only to curse when he found out he must have dropped it on the way there. This day was off to a horrid start, and it wasn't even over. His tears flew down his face as he sat down on a bench, his breathing becoming harder and harder to control.

God, what time was it? The question rang in his head as he stood up and kept walking, noticing that the moon was now hanging over his head. Time had surely flown by. There was one place that was on Shuichi's mind and that was Nuromo's house, a small little one bedroom house where Shuichi would sleep on the couch if he wanted to. The agenda for tomorrow was to go out and buy a new phone, then stay with Nuromo until he felt confident enough to go back home. It must have been really late when Shuichi saw his friend dressed in his pajama's, and his eyes were practically stuck together as he tried to get the taste of his own mouth to leave. "What is it, Mata?" he asked, his voice slurred.

"Can I stay the night?" Shuichi asked, taking deep breaths to calm down.

Nuromo left the entryway, yawning. "Whatever. Take the couch."

Shuichi stepped inside and took off his shoes. Nuromo stopped, turning around, his eyes now fully open and aware of the situation. "Wait a minute, what are you doing here?"

Shuichi tried his best to walk by his friend, but Nuromo blocked him. "And you look like you've been crying. What happened, Mata?"

Shuichi shook his head, unable to say anything. He was too afraid of bursting into tears right in front of the person that knew him as being a strong willed person; a leader. He was too afraid of telling Nuromo that he wasn't just Mata Tonai but Shuichi Shindou as well. Nuromo took him by the shoulders. "Come on, man, you could tell me anything and you know that."

Shuichi could barely muster up the courage, but he still found some. "You'll hate me. You've hated me because of my popularity."

"What?" Nuromo asked, shocked. "No way—"

"Spicy Marmalade. Jidai wa marude urei himeta kao de madowaseru," Shuichi sang softly, using his real voice. "I'd like you to meet who I really am. My name is Shuichi Shindou, lead singer of Bad Luck."

Nuromo stared at the person who he had called his best friend for months. Was this all true or was Shuichi pulling his leg? Nuromo let out a nervous chuckle. "You're playing with me, right? You're such a liar. And what about Eiri Yuki? Does he know about this entire scam?"

"Eiri 'Uesugi' Yuki does know. In fact he's the one that had been helping me with my addiction. But…but…" Shuichi broke down into tears once more. "I saw him cheating on me earlier…with a girl…"

Nuromo stared at Shuichi worriedly. "Nuromo…what do I do?" Shuichi asked, wiping at his face.

Nuromo couldn't answer. He was still shocked that Mata was Shuichi. Seeing Shuichi as weak and defenseless as he was now, despite their friendship, for some reason it turned Nuromo on. He went over and wrapped his arms around the singer. "I think you should just move on, Shuichi."

Shuichi on the other hand, shook his head quickly. "I can't! Eiri was the only man I had ever, ever slept with! I can't sleep with anyone else but him!"

Nuromo held Shuichi's chin with two fingers. "Are you sure?" Nuromo captured the boy's lips in a hot kiss, holding him tightly as Shuichi tried to squirm away.

"Nuromo…stop! …please, this is too…stop!" Shuichi begged, crying out when Nuromo pushed him down onto the floor. This scene…this encounter…it felt so familiar.

It hit him.

This seemed just like the night where he was attacked and violated by Aizawa and his band of goons. Which meant that squirming and fighting would most likely do nothing, and that he would feel the same way as before; beaten and destroyed. His cries and begs were ignored as Nuromo slipped one hand up Shuichi's shirt, his slender fingers reaching a small pink nipple and pinching it, giving it full attention. The singer quickly had a short spasm because of the reluctant pleasure. "Nuromo…! What's gotten—ah! Into you?"

The guitarist grinned. "I lied to you for as long as you lied to me. I've never hated Shuichi Shindou, but instead I had fallen in love with him. He was an amazing singer in Bad Luck. When I had heard that he had stopped singing and disappeared I was frightened. But then I met Mata Tonai, and he looked exactly as you did only with black hair."

"Nuromo…we're friends…you shouldn't be doing this to me…" Shuichi gasped, his efforts to push Nuromo away gone and finished. There was no way that he would be able to push the man away; he had strength like Eiri. Shuichi's shirt, despite the position that he was in, was already off his head, on the floor a few meters away. His pants were next and he knew that if he didn't begin to fight back, there would be a terrible end to this day. He thought that seeing Eiri cheating was bad enough, but now he was about to get mindlessly raped by one of his closest friends.

Nuromo unbuttoned the small button that was sitting on Shuichi's jeans and pulled the zipper down. Even Shuichi couldn't hide the hard piece of flesh that was aching to get some attention of its own. Nuromo didn't fail to notice the hard-on as he quickly pulled Shuichi's pants down the farthest that he could and hooked his thumbs over the waistline of the bright blue boxers that Shuichi was wearing. Sweat began to drip down the sides of Shuichi's face; this was it. He had to stop the guitarist now.

Shuichi quickly tried to sit up but Nuromo had planned out his movements already. A calloused palm pushed the singer back to the floor while the other hand pulled his boxers down to his ankles. Shuichi gasped in both shock and embarrassment as his erection was shown to the world. He covered his face but could still feel the stare of the green eyes that hovered above him. He felt hands uncover his face, and a soft voice said, "Why are you hiding from me, Shuichi?"

The singer gulped loudly. "It's embarrassing. No one but Eiri has ever seen me like this."

He heard Nuromo sigh in frustration. "Forget about that cheating bastard already, Shuichi. You have me, don't you?"

Shuichi only looked away without an answer. In his heart, he still loved Eiri no matter if he had seen him cheating. But he still wondered. Why had Eiri cheated in the first place? Shuichi could have sworn that he was still good in bed and had stopped all addictions, which should have made Eiri proud and love him more. Still, why had he gone into bed with a woman? And why was it Ayako…?

Tears slowly made their way down Shuichi's cheeks as he remembered Ayako's face when he had barged in like that. However, for some reason, Eiri's face was surrounding him. Eiri was usually cold and he never showed any emotion, but when he had looked dead into Shuichi's eyes, there was hints of guilt and terror. Nuromo stopped roaming on Shuichi's body and stared at the poor boy. Shuichi on the other hand wanted to forget about Eiri, and he wanted it done as soon as possible. He held his arms out. "Nuromo, if you're going to take me, then do it. I don't care about Eiri anymore."

Weeks later, about the time of mid-November

Shuichi hadn't had contact with Eiri since the night he had seen the writer cheat with Ayako. He decided that it would be best to leave him alone. Now that Nuromo knew his deepest secret, he thought it was safe to return to his previous life. Soon, the fridge was stocked with beer bottle and cans while the living room was cluttered with empty cigarette boxes. This time, Shuichi promised himself that no one would try to stop him. But Spice's guitarist had other planes. Because of the fact that he knew Mata was Shuichi, Nuromo was getting worried for the singer's health. They had made love weeks ago, and half of the somewhat horrid foreplay (it had been Nuromo's first time, Shuichi found out) was rejected because of Shuichi's contemplated feelings over Eiri, and their friendship just continued from there. But then Shuichi began his crazed addictions again. Nuromo knew that he had to stop them before they got too out of hand, but he didn't think that he would succeed.

On the other side of singing business, Touma was wondering why Shuichi hadn't made or set up a date for the concert. He hadn't said anything to Bad Luck, but it still surprised him that the singer hadn't kept in contact for a few weeks. But the president was expecting something like that; he was waiting for the moment that Shuichi showed up but then left again for another half-year—maybe even more. Touma let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. Fans were buying the CD's for the band because of how long they hadn't had any connection with their listeners. No albums, concerts, signings. Without Shuichi, they thought that they were doomed to fail, that they had nothing left to sing for. Nittle Grasper had not done anything since Shuichi's strange disappearance either.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Touma just ushered whoever it was in. Almost instantly, the aching smell of smoke filled his nostrils and it reminded him of his drug-crazed brother-in-law. When he looked up, he saw the saddened eyes of Shuichi, not the angered hazel eyes of Eiri, which were puffed up and red, and he looked like he hadn't had any sleep in days with the bags under his lower eyelids. "Shindou-san, what's wrong?"

"I was up…" Shuichi took a deep breath and sat down. "All fuckin' night…my head is pounding…"

Touma looked at the young, blond haired adult and sighed. "Were you drinking?"

Shuichi let out a short and high pitched hiccup. "How'd you know?"

"You look like crap."

Shuichi chuckled under his breath. He knew that he looked like something other than a model at the moment, but there was no need for Touma to say it. Shuichi felt that drinking and smoking once again was a bad idea, and he fought against it in his mind for a long time, but for some reason the depression finally got to him and he gave in. He was ruining his life once again, and he felt as if no one would ever give a fuck. "So, why did you begin with the drugs again?"

"I wanna stop Touma-san, don't worry about that. I saw Eiri cheatin' on me though," he slurred, feeling the delicious taste of beer on the tip of his tongue.

"What?" Touma, bewildered out of his blond head, asked, knowing that it would be the first thing to slip out of his mouth no matter the situation. "Why would Eiri-san do that? I thought he would only have—" he stopped, but Shuichi knew what he was about to say.

"That's what I thought too. Apparently, women satisfy him more than I would ever have. Especially an ex-fiancée."

Touma's breath caught in his throat. "Aya…ko?" he questioned, thoughts buzzing in his head. Shuichi only nodded as he buried his face in his hands, hiding his tears.

It was dumb. Crying like a small child was dumb. At least that was what Shuichi thought. But what was he trying to say? He had been crying at least twice a day when he was younger. But now, he had barely any reasons to cry (was he lying to himself? He couldn't tell anymore) and that whenever he did begin to let his tears fall, they had no certain end to them. It was a curse, a spell that he was put under. To lift it was a mystery he had yet to solve. Across the desk, Touma stayed quiet, his own mind running. "It's not fair, Touma-san…it really isn't…what did I ever do? …I thought Eiri was happy with me. Was I not good as a sex partner? …fuck, I don't know anymore," Shuichi confessed, his words jumbled up within his tears.

The boss had stayed silent, unable to think of anything to say. Shuichi actually looked broken and if Touma pushed him any further, he would not even be able to speak, his tears and sobs the only thing that would be coming out of his once again poisoned mouth. "Shuichi," Touma said lightly, using Shuichi's first name. "I think that you need to go get some rest. And I think you need some serious advice."

"Advice from who?" Shuichi questioned. "Who can help me? Nuromo can't do anything because I haven't told him about my relationship with Eiri."

"Hiro?" Touma said, and Shuichi gave him a look that screamed 'What the fuck are you saying?' "Listen, you and Hiro have been friends for the longest time. I wouldn't be surprised if when he saw you, he would cry tears of joy."

"What the fuck are you doing here, Mata?" Hiroshi asked, standing in his doorway, his red hair messy and untamed. Shuichi stood outside in the cold, his arms around his torso.

"Hiro…let me just talk to you," Shuichi pleaded, using his real voice, causing Hiro's eyes to widen. "It's really important."

The guitarist quickly ushered the boy in. Shuichi hadn't been in the apartment for months, and so he tripped almost instantly. Hiroshi quickly grabbed his arm and kept him from hitting the ground, and Shuichi instantly began sobbing, turning around and burying his face in his old friend's chest. "It's not fair, Hiro! Why? Why would Eiri of all people cheat on me?"

"He what…?"

"He cheated, the bastard! I walked in on him having sex with his ex-fiancée!"

Hiroshi scratched his head. "That must have been pretty awkward for the both of you…"

Shuichi hit Hiroshi's chest repeatedly. "That's not the point I'm trying to make, dumbass!"

"Alright, alright," the guitarist tried to coax the boy to calm down, but with the way Shuichi was crying, it would most likely take him months to do it. "Tell me what happened. Please."

"I…" Shuichi gasped, catching his breath between his sobs. "I went to go practice with Spice, and the band got really mad, and then I went to see Touma, and when I got home…Eiri was in bed with Ayako…I've never felt so used before! He helped me with my addictions, made me feel wanted! Because of him, I was somewhat forced to sleep with Nuromo!"

Hiroshi listened carefully, drawing soothing circles on Shuichi's back to try and calm him down. "Do you think Eiri-san feels bad about doing that do you?"

"I doubt it!" Shuichi cried. "Although he did try to catch me…"

Hiroshi hit his friend over the head. "He probably wanted to apologize but you didn't let him, smartass," he said, leading Shuichi into his room. "I have an idea." He took out a bottle of pink hair dye. "Bad Luck is being resurrected."

A few days later

"Shuichi…" the singer mumbled, tackling the pinket down to the ground. "Where did you go? I missed you so much!"

"Sakuma-san, please, I'm having trouble breathing!" Shuichi cried, trying to get the thirty year old off of him so that he could get back to practicing as soon as humanly possible. He had recently asked Sakano if Ryuichi would like to see them practice. He heard that the singer of Nittle Grasper wondered if his new manager was on crack since Bad Luck hadn't practiced without Shuichi in almost a year. Still, he made his way with Noriko and Touma to the rehearsal stage, where he was reunited with his old friend. Touma was surprised that Shuichi had redid his hair so that it was pink again, but when he stole a glance at Hiroshi who in turn grinned, he knew more than what would have been said. "Sakuma-san!"

"But-but," he stuttered, holding on even tighter. "Kumagoro and I missed Shuichi so much!" the young boy noticed that even though Ryuichi was desperately trying to keep his child act up, he was being serious. "We—I thought I'd never see you again!"

Shuichi let out a soft smile and freed his hand, petting down Ryuichi's hair, making the older man hiccup and look up at him, tears falling from his eyes. "Don't worry," Shuichi mumbled, soft enough so that only the man on top of him could hear, "I'm okay now."

"…yeah, he doesn't reek of cigarette smoke anymore!" Hiroshi laughed, rubbing the back of his head. He was in the middle of a loud conversation with K. "Well, it doesn't smell too, too bad."

Shuichi laughed. "I'm trying to quit for the second time," he said. "Eiri helped me through it a few months back, and then…that happened so I started back up again." He grinned, his white teeth shining. "But now I have you guys to help me!"

K smiled. He knew what it was like to have a really bad addiction, but he didn't intentionally want to tell Shuichi that he would be glad to help at any time. "All right," he exclaimed, pointing his gun at the ceiling, "let's get to rehearsing! There's a concert coming up and Bad Luck needs to practice for it!"

A loud bang made everyone jump and a large chunk of the ceiling landed close to Shuichi's body.

Eiri stared at the letter that sat in his usually empty mailbox, his brow twitching. He hadn't got mail in years, at least not letter form, and he snatched it from his mailbox angrily. "What the hell is this…?" he grumbled to himself, tearing the envelope open. A small ticket fell from it, fluttering to the ground. He bent down and picked it up, staring at the words. "Bad Luck concert, front row seating. I thought Bad Luck died after Shuichi left…?" he shook his head and walked into his apartment. He stopped at the door, his eyes shut and his arms slightly out. He sighed, Eiri hadn't gotten used to Shuichi's absence just yet, and it killed him on the inside. He took a glance back at the ticket.

Maybe they were attempting to play something without Shuichi singing? But wouldn't that sound bad? Shuichi was the star of the group; without him Bad Luck wouldn't survive a day. His bouncy attitude and stylish attire made fans go nuts over him. Eiri was hooked on the lanky teenager even though he would never admit it to his face.

The writer made his way into the office, where he sat in his wheeled chair—when Shuichi was recovering from addictions, he told Eiri to buy a chair with wheels because it would be easier on Eiri's back, and he was actually right—and spun around, the breeze blowing through his blond hair. He reached for a cigarette, but stopped, not feeling the need for one at the moment. How strange, he thought, I usually always need a cigarette to soothe my nerves.

He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "That damned brat…! He's always making my head spin," he told himself, leaning back.

About two weeks later

Shuichi was jumpy backstage, his pink hair bouncing along with him. So many people had come, the entire stadium was packed. Fans from all around Japan wanted to see the young band finally come back from their break, and who could blame them? Shuichi pulled on his suspender straps even more when he saw a certain blond novelist sitting with his arms crossed over his chest in the front row. The singer let out a squeak and ran over to Hiroshi, who was getting his guitar tuned correctly. "Hiro," Shuichi complained, "Eiri's out there. I'm nervous."

The guitarist laughed. "When are we never nervous Shuichi? This is our first live concert in almost a year. I think it's safe to say that we're all pretty nervous," he said, nodding his head over to Suguru, who smiled sheepishly.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer roared suddenly, making the pink haired boy jump in surprise. "I hope you're all ready for a fantastic night!" the crowd roared with applause. "I don't want to waste any more time, so here they are! Bad…Luck!"

Hiroshi and Suguru ran out on stage, waving to all the fans that were jumping out of their seats happily. The brunet nodded his head at the keyboardist, who began the beat to Spicy Marmalade. Hiroshi added to it by strumming a few chords on his guitar, then all music stopped for a second, and the lights went out. The crowd gasped as Shuichi, microphone in hand, ran out on stage. "Spicy Marmalade! Jidai wa marude, urei himeta kao de, madowaseru!"

The crowd went wild as the lights and music started up again, and Shuichi waved to all the people that had come to see him. The song continued, followed by Blind Game Again, Rage Beat and a special duet of Shining Collection with famous Nittle Grasper singer Ryuichi Sakuma. The night ended with Yuuutsu na Seven Days, and a serious apology from Shuichi to his fans.

Once they were backstage again, K handed Shuichi a bottle of cold water. He unscrewed the cap and was about to take a sip when two strong arms turned him around and a hot pair of lips landed on his. Shuichi caught a glimpse of blond hair and a silver earring, and when the man pulled away, tears sprang into Shuichi's eyes as he tried to pull away, but Eiri refused to let him go. Seeking for help would be useless, considering all that was left of Hiroshi and Suguru was the guitar sitting on its stand. "Yuki," Shuichi whined, too afraid to call the writer by his own name. "Let me go, please."

"Are you afraid of me?" Eiri asked, trying to get the singer to look at him in the eyes. "Shu, look at me; are you afraid of me?"

Shuichi refused to even sneak a glance at the writer, terrified of the possibility that Eiri might actually hit him for running away. "Shu, please…" but he sounded really desperate…Shuichi looked up for a brief moment, and Eiri let out a rare smile as tears flooded his eyes. "Shu, I'm so glad you're alright," he muttered, bringing the teenager into an embrace. "I missed you so much…"

Eiri had never cried (except maybe that one time after Shuichi was raped) in front of the singer, so to see the tears brought the boy to cry as well, burying his face into the chest he had missed for months. "Shu, come back home. With me. Please." It wasn't a command, or a yes or no question.

It was an invitation.

Late that night

Their lips were locked in what Shuichi had to admit was the most passionate make-out session he had ever had with the writer. Shuichi straddled Eiri's waist, feeling their erections rub against each other creating amazing friction. Both men let out a loud groan as Eiri broke the kiss to take the singer's shirt off, throwing it to the ground a few feet away from them. He sent butterfly kisses down the younger male's body, leaving bright red welts just under his jaw. When he reached the smooth chest, his tongue swirled around a perk nipple, teasing it, while his fingers worked magic on the other. Shuichi mewled as Eiri bit down on it softly, the pain being an explosion of pleasure.

Eiri dropped his free hand to Shuichi's leather pants (he hadn't changed after the concert since Eiri practically dragged him home) and undid the belt buckle. Shuichi could feel himself getting harder as time went on by, and Eiri wasn't surprised when he unzipped the pants to find no sort of underwear. Of course, leather pants were tight and a flimsy set of boxers or even thin briefs would be highly uncomfortable, especially when someone like Shuichi was moving nonstop on a stage for thousands of fans. There was a slight struggle to get the leather attire off of Shuichi's hips but they came off fairly easily afterward.

The poor weeping cock was taken into Eiri's hand, and he pumped once quickly, smirking at the other male's reaction, and was surprised when Shuichi bucked his hips into the blonde's hand, wanting more. He soon began kissing down the singer's body once again, before reaching the throbbing length and licking the underside of it. Shuichi let out a loud gasp and arched his back. "Eiri, wait, I have to…!"

"What? Have to what?" Eiri kept pumping the hard shaft.

"I've…been on stage for more than an hour…I had a lot of water…"

The writer smirked and pointed the cock toward his mouth, still moving his hand up and down. "Let it out for me, baby. Just let it out."

Shuichi's mouth opened and his eyes closed as he moaned in pure pleasure as a stream of raging urine left the tip of his cock, coating Eiri in the yellow liquid. Some landed in his mouth and he immediately spit it back out, quickly opening his mouth once again. The taste was bitter, but Eiri didn't care, it was Shuichi's urine so it wouldn't matter. The powerful stream soon slowed down to a trickle, and when Shuichi opened his eyes, he saw Eiri drenched in his body fluid. The view was amazingly god-like, Eiri laying there, his hair soaked. His face was wet with a mixture of piss and sweat, and he hoped one more essence would be added to the mix.

He moved back a bit to undo Eiri's pants, surprising the writer. He slipped the boxers off with it, freeing the erection from its tight confines. He quickly lined it up with his twitching pink hole, slamming down on it with enough force to crush Eiri's pelvic bone. Shuichi took some time to adjust to the size, when he noticed something odd about this time around. "Eiri…are you…pierced?"

The novelist chuckled under the singer. "This and that happened. I decided to get myself pierced just in case you came back. I'm glad you noticed."

"How the…ah…fuck can I not? Compared with the rest of your meat, it's fucking cold…" to emphasize his point, he shivered violently. "God, you feel so fucking good…"

"Such language," Eiri chuckled, "I have to make sure to remember that during sex you turn into a beast."

Shuichi just began moving his hips up and down, slamming onto the penis under him, hitting his prostate dead on each time. "F-Fuuuuck..." he growled, moving a hand to jack himself off. He was pumping in time with his hips. He lifted himself until the piercing was out of his hole, and then slid back in, coating it. Both males moaned when Eiri's balls clenched and he let his seed out into the singer's hole, filling it to the brim. Shuichi got off and down by the semi-hard length and stared right at the silver hoop sitting at the base of the head. It matched Eiri's earring, except the size was just a bit smaller. He licked the silver jewelry, making Eiri writher in pleasure. "Ah, that feels so good…"

"I know baby, I know."

My beautiful littler fuckers! You've been waiting months for this! I began writing this little shit around January and finished just before I began writing this note. Fuck, this was difficult. 13,000 words of mother fucking drama all in one whole chapter for you bitches. Sometimes, I think I push myself too hard with you guys. But what the hey, gives me a chance to drink a little.

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