What If I'd Tried To Save You Chapter 7, a gravitation fanfic

Chapter Seven: A Relevation

Eiri sat at his dressing table, studying his reflection in the mirror. What was with Shuichi saying he didn't want to get married? Of course he wanted to, they'd been planning this for years for god's sake, so why would his friend even say something like that? There was something strange going on with that kid, like the whole, 'you have to marry me' thing! What was that all about? He'd known the singer for long enough, and he'd never gotten any inkling of a feeling that he was attracted to Eiri.

And how could he have known about that day? Eiri had never told anyone about that, even Tohma hadn't believed that there had been another person there, he thought that Eiri had been so stressed and full of adrenaline that he'd done the entire thing himself, that it was Eiri who had tackled him back into the car, but couldn't believe that he was capable of that, so had invented some random boy that had come to save him. Well...at least that's how the psychiatrist explained it, so that's what Tohma was going with apparently. No matter that there was no way that Eiri could have knocked him over with that much force, no matter that Tohma had been shoved into the car about thirty seconds before Eiri had jumped in himself, no matter that someone had been sitting directly on top of Tohma while Eiri was hiding under the seat.

Regardless, it wasn't something that he liked to think about, much less talk about, so how could Shuichi have known about that? Leaning his forehead into his hands, he stared long and hard into the mirror, trying to command his memories to become more clear.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you. I'm a friend of Tohma's"

A flash of pink

"They didn't hurt you, did they?"

A strand of pink fell into a smile

Eiri groaned and clutched his head. Why couldn't he remember that boy's face. All he could think of was pink...pink hair? Well, the only other person he'd ever known with pink hair was Shuichi, but it couldn't have been him. He could at least remember that the boy who rescued him was, or seemed a lot older than he was.

"It's okay, we're gonna get out of here just fine, okay?"

Violet stars...

Pink hair and violet eyes. There was honestly no other person in the world who looked like that. Eiri shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the confusion. Maybe he was placing Shuichi's characteristics onto the boy's face, because he was associating the singer with the incident after his weird outburst. Yeah, that sounded logical.

"There was no one else there Eiri, just you. You did it yourself, there was no boy."

"But Tohma! I saw him, he had pink hair!"

"There was no boy Eiri. End of discussion."

Damn. This was SO not the thing to be thinking about on his wedding day. Maybe later he'd take the singer aside and have a talk, depending on if Shuichi ever arrived, and what condition he was in.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you. I'm a friend of Tohma's"

"I don't have any friends with pink hair Eiri, that's just tacky."

Argh! What was that boy's face? If only he could remember one thing, he would be able to picture it in his head, but whenever he closed his eyes, Shuichi's face floated there, grinning at him.

"Go! Fast!" Hands helping him climb out the window, shoulders bumping as they ran down the fire escape, feet hitting the ground beside his as they jumped off the fire escape and ran to the car.

Pink hair flashing in front of his eyes.

A face—

"Eiri!" Startled, the writer jumped up out of his chair, tangled in a bouquet, and ended up flat out on the ground. "Eiri, are you still in there? Come on! The ceremony is starting!"

Shit. Dusting himself off to make him look presentable, Eiri checked his appearance one more time in the mirror, avoiding his own eyes, and then went out to meet Tatsuha, the ring bearer.

Shuichi ran through the garden of the temple, desperately following the noise of the music until he rounded a corner. Finally, FINALLY, there was Eiri, looking wonderfully healthy, and...happy? The writer hadn't seen him yet; all his attention was focused on the woman standing in front of him, her flowing wedding dress accentuating her beauty further. Shuichi took another step in their direction, eyes on Eiri the entire time, and suddenly, the man smiled at her, so spontaneously, and hugely that the singer was shocked. He'd never seen that smile before, ever, in the entire time they were together.

Ayaka leaned over and whispered something in his ear, and he threw back his head, roaring with laughter. It was such a beautiful sight, just watching him made Shuichi want to smile, but cry at the same time, because he knew that now, there was no way that he could stop the wedding and run away with Eiri. Eiri didn't want to get away. He was actually happy here, like this. Without Shuichi.

How could this have happened? Was it Shuichi who made him angry and sad in the first place? Why couldn't Eiri just be satisfied with him? What was wrong with him?

Now he had a chance to make it up to the writer. He could let him be happy, here, now. Shuichi just had to walk away, and Eiri would finally get to laugh and smile like a normal person, and he could have a wife he loved, and kids that he could take care of, and it was be a much better life than anything that Shuichi could ever give him.

Tears started to gather in the singer's eyes, but he viciously blinked them back. He had to be strong for Eiri; no tears or fuss, just leave him alone and don't ever mention anything about it. Shuichi laughed; he'd finally found the perfect way to make Eiri happy, but it came only with somebody else. It was a terrible, ironic situation, but he'd finally succeeded, so he didn't intend to change anything else. This was as good as it was going to get for Eiri.

Surveying the party, Shuichi saw Mika snuggled up to Douku, smiling up at him, with one hand resting on her son's head. He vaguely wondered what the boy's name was now. Over by the coffee, Tohma stood talking to someone animatedly, his entire face lit up. When he craned his neck, the singer saw that he was talking to Dyllon, and at that moment, Tohma leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the man's cheek, then turned away, blushing.

Everyone was happy. It was perfect. Maybe he could learn to live with Saki, if only for a while; he didn't want to ruin her life either. But this was a good place; he had his job that he loved, his friends were happy, and most importantly, Eiri was happy.

Wanting to give himself time to recompose himself, the singer tried to sneak away unseen, but suddenly he was attacked from all sides by a horde of angry girls.

"Shuichi! Where were you? You are so late!" Saki jumped onto his arm, whining pitifully, "You left me all alone here, I was so sad, you promised that you'd be on time!"

Mika stormed around at his other side. "Shuichi! God, you can't just make up stupid excuses and hang up on me!" A bright red flush worked its way up her face, "I thought you were going to come and do something stupid."

The victim on the onslaught tried to mumble apologies and get away quickly, but it was too late; he'd been spotted by Eiri, and now the man was coming over to say something. Judging by the look on his face, he wasn't exactly thrilled with Shuichi.

"Oh...uhoh," Dragging a heavy Saki along behind him, Shuichi attempted to run into the house, but found that she was planted firmly into the ground. "Come on, let's go...in here..." he mumbled, but turned around and found himself face to face with Eiri. As if on que, the girls immediately fell silent.

The man stood in front of him in silence for a moment, studying him thoughtfully. A strange look of recognition flashed across his face, but then Eiri shook his head with the slightest flick, and extended a solemn hand to Shuichi, offering a silent pact. The singer took it gingerly, and they shook, never breaking eye contact.

When Eiri dropped his hands away, he immediately adopted a more causal manner for the benefit of the girls who were all looking between them and at each other curiously. "Glad you could make it Shuichi."

"I'm happy to be here, congratulations to both of you," he nodded towards Ayaka, who had come up beside Eiri, "I'm not feeling very well, I think I might go sit inside for a little while..."

Mika started to say something, but the author nodded seriously, "Okay, thank you for coming anyways, maybe you'll feel better later:.."

Shuichi managed a weak nod before he bolted inside, searching out the bathroom.

"What was with you today?" Saki asked, for about the millionth time, as Shuichi parked in the basement level of their apartment building and they both climbed out of the car. For the millionth time, Shuichi avoided the question, mumbling something about a headache and running into a wall.

Just as it looked like she was actually going to demand a real answer, the singer's cell phone rang, saving him from what was going to most definitely be an awkward conversation. "Uh, one sec," he fumbled the phone open, checking the call id. "Hey Hiro." With a small waving motion, he gestured for Saki to go on without him, smiling apologetically and blowing her a quick kiss. This seemed to placate her, as she grinned back at him and skipped her way to the elevator.

"Hey Shu, how are you feeling?"

Saki was finally out of sight; he could drop that pathetic grimace of his face. "Oh god...terrible." He knew that he really shouldn't provoke a conversation by complaining, but it was too tempting to complain.

Hiro clucked his tongue sympathetically. "It was that bad?"

Shuichi frowned, "What was that bad?"

"The wedding? Man, I can't believe you agreed to go; it must have been torture!"

This was definitely weird. Was Hiro just sympathizing because weddings in general were tough, or was it because he knew something else...?

"Did you get a chance to talk to Eiri about...uh, you know?"

"Er...no, I don't know, but I did talk to him briefly. What are you...?" An idea dawned onto Shuichi. "Oh, but Ayaka was there..."

"Oh man, that really bites. I know how you feel about him; I was hoping you'd get a chance to tell him."

Aha! Shuichi should have known that he wouldn't have just been lurking around in this world without having feelings for Eiri! It was just a given... slightly pacified from his earlier despair, the singer smiled for real for the first time in hours.

"Well, I was just phoning to make sure that you were okay, and, you know, didn't do anything stupid..." Hiro chuckled evilly.

"Hey! I never do anything stupid...er...okay...point taken. I'll see you...oh, by the way, when's our next practice?"

"Uh, I was thinking about having one Saturday morning, how does that sound?"

"Great, does Suguru know yet?" Shuichi laughed at himself, thinking about the question, "God, what'm I saying? He'll probably be there anyways, prowling the hallways...waiting for someone to come practice with him. Poor guy...I guess we should probably let up on him a bit..."

There was only silence on the other end of the phone. Shuichi twitched uncomfortably, getting a bad vibe out of the situation. In his head, he urged Hiro to laugh and answer, making some snide comment about the keyboardist's work habits. Or his meticulous work space. Or his insistence on doing every single piece over until it was perfect. Anything, at this point, would be nice.

"Um, sorry? Are you feeling okay?" Well, that was probably about the ten millionth time right there. It practically warranted a party.

"Yes," he replied firmly, then giggled, "Although I did run into a wall this morning."

Hiro's voice was worried, "Are there any large bumps on your head?"

"No! I was joking..."

"Well…who are you talking about?"

Shuichi ran out of the elevator and up to his apartment door, banging furiously on it. A startled looking Saki flung it open worriedly, but he just brushed by her, running into the kitchen.

"Do we have any posters of all of Bad Luck in here?"

The girl trailed nervously after him after locking the front door. She looked like she was torn between calling Mika and laughing at a really bad joke. At the question, the wrinkle in her forehead grew deeper, as her face portrayed pure confusion. "Um...yeah, in the spare room, but..."

Shuichi ripped open the door of the room, letting it bang against the wall hard. There, on the wall was an enormous life sized poster of Bad Luck, Hiro striking a dramatic guitar pose, as Shuichi gave a thumbs-up to the audience. And smack between them, grinning happily at the seat of the keyboard, was the friendly, green eyed face of Dyllon, waving at the crowd.

Where the hell was Suguru? How could he ever possibly have been replaced by this...this idiot? The singer knew that he wasn't being fair to Dyllon, but at the moment, he was slightly too enraged to care.

The dark haired boy was practically the best talent in NG records. No one, no one except Tohma could begin to rival his synthesizer skills, but somehow, staring down at him from this glossy picture, was the face of the blond man's boyfriend. And something was seriously wrong.

"Oh shit."

Tohma paced his office, throwing occasion glances through the window at the fuming young man standing outside, who also seemed to be pacing rapidly. What was the singer doing here? As far as Tohma knew, Bad Luck didn't have a practice scheduled today, and hell would freeze over before Shuichi would come to work on a day off.

The boy seemed very upset, and Tohma didn't want to find out why. He'd heard enough stories about people who'd dealt with him at the wedding the day before, and truthfully he had no desire whatsoever to confront the singer, especially when he was in a mood like.

But eventually he'd have to deal with him, and better sooner than later, because he had to meet Dyllon for lunch, and there was no way he would ever get by Shuichi without talking to him.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath to compose himself, and went over to open the door. The blond man, careful to keep his face cheerful, and particularly devoid of any annoyance, quirked an eyebrow in the singer's direction. "Yes?"

Instead of answering, Shuichi stormed his way into the room and threw himself into a chair. Then, he jumped up and began circling the room, darting extraordinarily dirty glances at Tohma. The accused merely went to sit in his chair, waiting for the singer to begin talking, which, after a period time he did.

"How could you do it?" Well, of all the things that Tohma had been expecting, this certainly wasn't one of them...what the hell was Shuichi accusing him of?

"Uh—"

"No, I just, I just can't handle this right now! How could you use Dyllon instead? Suguru was the most hardworking, talented person, and you just replace him with your boyfriend? That's just ridiculous! You're just—"

"—Now wait just a moment!" Tohma bellowed, scaring even himself for a second. A panicked look crossed the singer's face, then he seemed to deflate, folding into himself on a chair opposite the blond man's desk. More calmly, Tohma continued, "I've never replaced anyone from Bad Luck. Shuichi, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about, because it has only been you three from Day One...well, more like Day Five, because you were so goddamn stubborn about having another person, but..."

He trailed off as he analyzed the accusation. "Who are you talking about? Suguru? There's never been anyone who worked here by that name..."

"What? No, not...what?" Shuichi buried his hands in his head, horrific visions of a dead Suguru flying through his head. How had he messed up this time?

"Although," Tohma mused, almost to himself, "It's strange that you mention it, because I have a cousin named Suguru," Shuichi's heart jumped in hope, "Who used to be extremely good at keyboard...but I haven't seen him in years..."

"What?" the singer screeched indignantly, "I thought you practically brought him up!"

The look of surprise on Tohma's face was priceless. "What? No, I haven't seen him for...well, almost ten years. I went somewhere - with Eiri actually – and when I got back, I was so wrapped up in this new business, and...er...Dyllon...that I didn't really have time to spend with my family; I had better things to do." Shuichi gaped at him wordlessly. So this was how it had all worked out. When Tohma had brought the damaged Eiri back to Japan, he'd probably realized how important his own family was, as he struggled to re-introduce Eiri to his.

The blond man, taking his expression to be shocked offence, plowed on, determined, for some reason unknown to him, to justify himself with this petulant young man. "Well, I was busy, and before I knew it, they told me not to come back, that I wasn't part of the family anymore. It's not as though they were saints either – my cousin's family were all messed up; begging me for money, living in scummy neighbourhoods, just generally not very nice people either. Except the boy," Tohma paused, remembering, "He was the only good one in the family...I suppose that I regret breaking ties with him, but it was necessary unfortunately. I would have taken him in too, but I had just moved in with Dyllon, and it would never have worked out..."

Shuichi leapt to his feet, mumbling an apology, and pulling Tohma out of his haze. Shocked at having told the boy so much, all he could do was sit there, contemplating his own words. The singer meanwhile, ran over to the wall and punched it once, and then again, harder.

Needless to say, this drew Tohma completely back to the present, and he ran over, intending to stop any more self (or wall) injury. But Shuichi had already collapsed to the floor, tears running down his face and his knees, which were curled up under his chin.

"I can't... I can't..." The singer was mumbling, "No more of this...it has to stop, please, it has to stop..."

"Shuichi?" Tohma bent down and put a wary hand on the boy's shoulder. "Are you—?"

"No! I'm not okay, stop asking for god's sake! I will never be okay again, not until you're married to Mika, and I've never heard of Dyllon, and Eiri and I—" He broke off, looking resolute.

He climbed to his feet, turning to Tohma with a glint in his eyes.

"Do you have an address?"

Shuichi looked skeptically from the piece of paper clutched in his hands to the dilapidated house sitting in front of him. He could never, in his wildest dreams, imagine Suguru standing to live in a place like this. This keyboardist practically had a stroke every time there was a scrap of paper left on the ground...

Or maybe...this was why the dark haired boy was like that. Shuichi shuddered; even he could never live in a dump like that! Gathering his courage, in a superbly superheroic moment, the singer puffed up his chest to look bigger, and strode purposely to the door. Just as his fingers hovered over the knocker in anticipation, the door was flung open in his face, knocking him backwards off the steps and back into the front yard.

"Oh." The lady responsible for the incident did not seemed particularly concerned by the person lying flat out on their back in front of her house. "Who're you?"

"Er," Shuichi murmered thickly through the stream of blood that was gushing from his nose, "Can I speak to Suguru?"

"Who're you?" The lady repeated, with the same exact monotone. As the singer climbed to his feet, he tried to repress a shudder at the sight of her: tangled, greasy hair, food on her face, dirt on her hands and all over her clothes, and a bruise covering the entire right side of her face. A half empty beer was shaking in her hands. The lady raised a dreary eyebrow at Shuichi's not-so-discreet examination of her, and then turned over her shoulder. "Brat! Where're you, stupid kid! Com're!" A high pitched shriek echoed through the yard and the singer winced, still nursing a throbbing head.

The lady stood at the door, glaring at him for a few minutes, then turned and said something to someone behind her. A low, famililar voice floated out to the yard, and Shuichi took at step towards the house eagerly. "Suguru!"

A barely quizzical head peered around the corner and stared at him. The lady laughed harshly, "I didn't know you had friends," she snorted, and saliva flew out her mouth, narrowly missing Suguru's head, "Who would want to put up with you if they didn't have to?"

The boy rolled his eyes and sent her a look of pure hate, then slowly ambled outside, keeping a wary eye on the singer as he approached. "Do I..." his voice was soft, as though it wasn't used a lot, "Do I know you?"

From the doorstep, the lady laughed again, "I knew he couldn't be your friend, you fucking brat, you don't have any...oh shit..." Swaying on her feet, she put out a hand to steady herself, but meeting only empty space, collapsed in a heap on the floor. Suguru sighed, and turned back to the house. Assuming that he was going to help her, he struggled to bite back a gasp as the teen merely slammed the door in front of her face, removing her from view.

Then, he wandered back to Shuichi. "Can I help you?"

"Er," the singer tried to get himself together after that display of motherly love, "My name is Shindou, uh, Shindou Shuichi, I'm from—"

"Bad Luck!" Suguru interrupted, showing the first signs of interest since he'd come to the door. "Oh my god, you're like...oh god..." An embarrassed look crossed his face, and he seemed to retreat into a shell again. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so...annoying..."

No, thought Shuichi, you should be the one with the fans. Somehow, he managed to drag a huge smile onto his face. "Actually, I really don't mind! Um..." he racked his brains for some way to introduce his idea, "Uh..."

The teen looked at him expectantly, possible signs of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. But a loud moaning noise came from inside the house, and it was replaced by a terrible scowl.

"Um, I know your cousin, Tohma?" Suguru's eyes lit up at the mention of the man, so he thought it was safe to continue. "He was telling me about you, and, um, I thought that you sounded like a great person, and I really wanted to meet you, and, uh, so here I am..."

"Is he here?" The teen burst out excitedly, craning to look around Shuichi.

"Oh, no...sorry, he was so busy today, that he couldn't...but..."

Suguru's face fell, but he nodded understandingly. "It's probably best. She'd kill 'em..." he shrugged a dismissive shoulder towards the house. Turning his attentions back to Shuichi, he realized for the first time that the singer was bleeding.

"Oh," he said, looking vaguely shocked. It seemed that he was back into a no-emotion mood, and the switching back and forth from excitement to hate to nothing was really creeping Shuichi out. "Here..." The teen dug into the shoulder bag that hung from his shoulder, until he produced a surprisingly clean hankerchief.

The singer looked dubiously between the cloth and the house, but taking into consideration the ridiculous neatness of the Suguru that he knew, he deemed it sanitary and pressed it up to his face. Suguru, who had been watching with bored, but calculating eyes, seemed to relax the tinest bit.

"Hey," Shuichi mumbled through the barrier, "Do you wanna go somewhere?"

The teen's eyes brightened a considerable amount. "Do I ever..."

Shuichi sat across from the teen at a nearby café, tapping the table awkwardly. Since they'd gotten her, the boy hadn't said a thing, only studied the singer carefully, as if disbelieving that he was actually there. It was beginning to get scary, so Shuichi attempted to start a conversation.

"So, um, how well do you know Tohma?"

Suguru blinked in surprise, and then re-focused his attention. "Oh, not very well, anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Well, when I was a kid he used to come over and give me piano lessons, but then he just stopped coming. I think that bitch asked him for money one too many times," An unfamiliar smirk crossed the teen's face, and he screwed up his face unattractively, "Yeah, probably...but it was too bad, cuz I was really good, at piano I mean..." Shuichi couldn't keep a smile off of his face as a glimpse of the normal Suguru came out.

They fell silent for a moment, and then to the singer's surprise, Suguru started talking, as he was rummaging through his bag. "Um, it's okay if you don't want...um, but um," Shuichi's heart almost broke at the sight of the teen being so unsure. His Suguru had so much confidence, he reflected, especially for a sixteen-year-old. Must come from living with Tohma for such a long time...

"Can I have your autograph," the words tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth, and then Suguru's cheeks reddened, "Please?" he added, hopefully.

Shuichi squirmed at the strangeness of it all. Usually, this young man would be sitting in front of him, yelling at him to stop crying, or to get to work, but now, he was reduced to a half-eager, half-embarrased teen who actually wanted the singer's autograph. It was Shuichi's turn to blush, as he thought about just how much he'd screwed up this time, and in that instant, knew what he had to do.

"Can I tell you something?" Shuichi asked, as he quickly scribbled down a message, and his signature on a scrap piece of paper for the boy, who was trying so hard not to smile.

Suguru nodded his head eagerly, but then stopped himself, and gave a slightly more dignified inclination of agreement.

"I've messed up..." It was time to confess; he needed to tell someone the story so bad, just to hear from someone else that he had really fucked things over this time, "I was only trying to help, but everything just got out of hand..." he looked up from the table to see Suguru's curious eyes peeking out from an errant stray of black hair. This was all the encouragement that he needed...

Finally, the story all came out, every last detail if it, down to the very last expression on people's faces as he had run wild with their lives. Shuichi spent the entire time looking down at his fingers, twisting nervously in between themselves, but there was no doubt that the teen was listening. The feeling of his glare bore into the top of the singer's head, giving him yet another reason to remain with his head bowed.

As he recounted the last part; where he had met Tohma in the office, he heard Suguru's sharp intake of breath, and the grinding noise that was coming from his teeth. Too afraid to meet the teen's eyes, he instead glanced over his hands, which were clenched angrily against the side of the table.

Immediately, he regretted his decision to tell it to such an unstable teenager. Clearly, Suguru was not mentally equipped to deal with something like this.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you...it wasn't..."

"Who do you think you are?" came a whisper from the other side of the table, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Shuichi's heart sunk. This wasn't quite what he was expecting, but he should have known better, should have known that he would get a reaction like this.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't...shouldn't..." his voice trailed off uncertainly; repeating himself wasn't going to help at all. Tears began to fill his eyes, but he desperately wiped at them, not willing for the Suguru, who had so much more to cry for, to see them.

The boy stared at him in disgust.

"Who do you think you are, to come in here and tell me this?" He stood up, eyes blazing with anger. "How can you fucking tell me that this, this is your fault?" The teen ripped back his sleeves, exposing red, deeply scarred wrists to a shocked Shuichi. Some of the cuts seemed quite recent.

"I...I'm...I'm sorry...I..."

"Yeah, that's right, you're sorry. Sorry that playing god has ruined my life. You're sorry that I used to be happy, but thanks to you, because your boyfriend wasn't nice to you, I'm fucking...like this!" Suguru waved his arms in the singer's face.

Shuichi's eyes spilled over. "I can...I can fix this, it's okay...I can—"

"No! You can't. And I don't want you to. God" he shook his head, frustrated, " Can't you see that with all your fucking meddling, I'll probably be dead next time!"

The angry teen flung down the piece of paper with Shuichi's signature onto the table, crumpled into a ball.

"I hope that we never meet again," he hissed, and then stalked out of the café.

Shuichi dragged himself onto a park bench, ignoring the strange stares that he was getting from all the people walking by. With the blood still trickling out of his nose now and then, and the tears staining his face, he probably looked half-dead. He should be dead.

What had he been thinking? Each time, things just got worse, and each time, he never learned his lesson. Each time, he continued to try and change things, try to mold his life to this perfect vision. Well, as he was now realizing, perfect for him did not mean perfect for anybody else. God, he was so selfish.

There had to be a way to get everything back to normal, without messing anything back up. Without going back to New York, because god knew that that just never turned out right. He wasn't strong enough to stand by and watch Eiri walk by, so happy, so soon to be the bitter young man that would become his boyfriend ten years in the future.

He threw his head into his hands, groaning.

"Do you understand now?" Looking up, he saw the familiar sight of that boy, sitting on the bench morosely. "Do you?" There was an unreadable expression on his face that was scaring the singer. It almost reminded him of the look on Suguru's face only an hour earlier, which only provided more motivation from him to answer correctly.

Shuichi nodded frantically. "Yes, I understand; I can't be god! Just please, please, can you fix this? I just want everything back to normal...please?"

The boy shook his head, "No, I can't fix it." He paused. Shuichi's face fell. Everything was over; he couldn't live with himself like this, knowing that he'd caused such anguish in so many of his friends' lives. But seeing the crushed expression on the singer's face, the boy continued, "But you can. I'll take you back, but it's up to you to make it right again."

Bringing his face up to his hands, Shuichi moaned in protest. "I can't! I've tried, and I always ruin things even more. Please, can't you do it yourself?" Bad things happened when he tried to help. It was a proven fact, so why did the boy want him to even attempt a rescue?

"No! You have to do it. It's your responsibility, now go." With that, the park scene faded from around them – which was unusual, considering it seemed to, in the past times, have come in a great flash. The boy saw him looking around, and smiled wearily. "I'm tired; I don't have enough energy to keep this up. I don't think that I'll be able to help if you mess up again...so don't."

"But—" The boy had already disappeared, leaving Shuichi standing right beside the building, watching himself watch the boy walk over to his even earlier self and convince him to walk away. Phew, his head was reeling at the thought. But...was that what he had to do? Convince himself to walk away? Would it even work?

Shuichi perked up from his perch behind a building; the noises of the three men came around the corner, and he watched nervously as they entered the building, laughing lewdly at each other. Disgusting pigs; he'd like to— no, he wasn't going to think like that. He couldn't get involved this time, in fact, he had to un-involve himself somehow.

He saw himself begin to creep towards the building. Now was the time; he slowly stepped out of his hiding spot, and walked over to the Shuichi that was about to run into the building after those three men. What was he going to say to make himself understand? What could he do?

But without saying anything, that Shuichi seemed to sense him, and turned around. His eyes widened enormously at the sight, his mouth gaping open.

Shuichi stood there, staring himself straight in the eyes, giving him a good look at his horrifying appearance – covered in his own blood, tears streaking through a mixture of sweat, dirt and blood on his cheeks, and dripping down his chin to the ground. Then he shook his head just once. The other Shuichi understood immediately. He nodded his head solemnly, and turned towards the street, not even voicing an argument against his clearly more knowledgeable self. It made him proud to know that he could react so calmly in a situation like that.

A voice floated around his head. "That's better..." As he turned to look at the boy, everything slowly faded to black.

Shuichi bolted upright in the couch, looking around him everywhere for the boy. Where he finally decided that the room was empty, he looked up at the clock. 3 a.m. Was everything back to normal again? It looked like he was in Eiri's apartment, but experience had taught him other.

Afraid to get up, he remained sitting on the couch, at first too caught up from the sound of his own breath echoing in his eyes to hear the familiar sounds of typing coming from the room straight across from the couch.

The singer inhaled deeply and held it, not quite believing his ears. Crossing his fingers behind his back, he slowly tiptoed over to the office, and peered in the doors.

It was...Eiri. Just as he'd left him, working to finish his novel by yet another upcoming deadline. Tears began to stream down his face again, this time in happiness. They joined, and washed away the sorrowful tears from earlier. Was this real? It had to be; he couldn't handle any more meddling...

Just to make sure, Shuichi gathered a handful of skin and pinched himself sharply. "Ow!" he hissed, wrongly estimating how much it would hurt. With a sigh from inside the room, the typing stopped, and Eiri heaved himself to his feet wearily.

"What is it brat? I'm really busy right now..." Shuichi smiled to hear the familiar grumpy words from his boyfriend's mouth. It was ironic how happy they made him, considering he should probably be cowering and whining by now.

"I just wanted to see you," the singer skipped lightly into the room, breathing in the smell of Eiri in his element. Walking shyly up to the writer, Shuichi leaned in and kissed him chastely on the cheek, grinning once again at the wonderful scent wafting from the author. "I love you Eiri," he said simply, and then walked from the room.

Shuichi slipped into his boxers, stripped off his shirt, and crawled into the bed, sighing softly at its lovely familiarness. Everything was so much better than he remembered it, because it was his. It was his bed, his Eiri, his life. There was nothing that he'd do to change it now.

The door opened quietly, and Eiri slipped in, shed his clothes, and slipped under the sheets beside the singer. Most likely thinking that his boyfriend was asleep, the writer leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Shuichi's shoulder, draping a possessive arm over the singer's waist.

Shuichi grinned widely. Okay, now there was nothing that he'd change.

The END!

Author's (Final) Note: Yay, it's done! Phew, that was quite the nagging at my conscience... so, I'm sorry that the ending is so anti-climatic, but it was my favourite of all the possiblities that I entertained...Anyways, read, review, go on with your lives! Thanks for all the support from my WONDERFUL reviewers, to everyone who reviewed, especially love-ly-meow for reviewing every chapter so far :P