Stages

Author Notes

First things first - this is a Shishi (meaning Shigeru x Satoshi) story with extreme yaoi implications. It is does have inferences to sexual activity - if this sort of thing is not your bag, then move on down the road.

This was a roller coaster story. I tried to end it five times before it would let me draw it to a conclusion that seemed to make it happy. I wanted it to be a fluff piece, it was supposed to be a fluff piece...

But the story itself had other ideas and when stories get to the point where it most certainly feels like they have their own entity trapped in my mind... Realistically, I've never written a story like this before - one that's only haunted me after it was written. I felt like I owed the characters an apology... for how it ends or what I did or perhaps just for ending it... I don't know.

All lyrics used without permission (obviously.) The Man of La Mancha was based on the book Don Quixote by Don Miguel de Cervantes and was created by Dale Wasserman, Joe Darion and Mitch Leigh.

And I don’t own Pokémon et all – if I did I wouldn’t be leading the kind of life that gives me time to wallow on the internet and find such unusual sources of inspiration… This is fanfiction and as such is subject to the author’s interpretation of events and scenes from the anime show.

This is also an alternative universe fiction where things are not exactly as they happened in the anime or the manga. For the purposes of this fiction Shigeru is 21, Satoshi and Hiroshi 20 (19 when they first meet), Takeshi is 25 and Kasumi is 23. I use the Japanese names throughout but I do include translations in bracers for those more familiar with the dub.

This story is dedicated to a newly converted fan of my Shishi - a good friend, a wonderful person - this is for you Bonnie. Thanks for the ride from Chicago to Milwaukee and for rekindling my passion for dance and theatre...

Eternal thanks to Nicole for Beta reading this and all my stories.

Again, thanks to Bonnie who pointed out in part one that I had my male singing voices a bit off...

I have an undying passion for the musical Man of La Mancha. Richard Kiley will forever be the definitive Don Quixote for me. If this moves you, if it makes you cry, makes you laugh, makes you sing... whatever it does - find the soundtrack, read the screenplay. It's on Amazon.com for cryin' out loud. You won't be sorry you did. I did once... years ago... and it changed my perspective of things and I'll be forever grateful to the World Literature teacher in High School who put that slim volume in my hands and said, "You read the part of Cervantes/Don Quixote, okay?"

"I shall impersonate a man... enter into my imagination and see him..."

***

Stages

"I can't believe you've dragged me here," Satoshi says to me, the look of sheer disgust on his face quite evident in the glowing lights of the marquee. Well, it's also ten minutes to two in the middle of the afternoon. I would have been able to see it no matter how he tried to conceal it.

"You lost," I remind him smugly.

He scowls. I'm not sure just what he thought the result of our Pokémon battle would be. Ever since I saw this musical eleven years ago, I've dreamed of making Satoshi watch it. A little weird, I know, but the main character is just *so* Satoshi.

"The Man of La Mancha?" he asks morosely.

I almost give up there; if he's going to sulk through the entire thing and I'm not sure it's worth it to force him... Through the lobby doors I can hear the orchestra warming up, the sounds of the winds, the percussion and the trumpets playing brief snippets of the Overture sends tiny thrills down my spine. He's not getting out of this. I won and he's going to see this musical if it kills him.

"Pikapi," his Pikachu says from her perch on his head. "Pika. Pika pika pikachu."

"You're right, Pikachu, it can't be that bad. Shigeru would never make me go to something he thought I would hate." He looks up at me from beneath the brim of his hat, the insecurity visible in his eyes. "Would you?"

I decide that honesty is the best policy. "The first time I saw this it made me think of you."

He blushes. "You mean you actually think about me?"

Now *I'm* blushing. Anou, I *have* to diffuse this before it really gets squicky.

Our rivalry began twelve years ago because we were both rather confused, and instead of trying to figure out just what was friendship and what was the wakening of hormones, we freaked and turned on each other. Rather viciously, actually. I was the more evil of the two of us, I know, but it had hurt to lose him as a friend and I had to make him pay for that. Hey, I was nine; what do you expect?

As we have gotten older, the rivalry has faded. But until one of us makes it to the Victory Road, I don't think it's ever going to die completely. "Sometimes," I admit, gesturing for him to walk into the lobby.

We're at the Tokiwa City [Viridian City] performing arts centre - a lavish old style theatre that's brimming in gilded wood carvings, rich ruby velvet and just screams 'class.' This is where my cheerleaders first brought me against my will to see this musical. I thanked them profusely later by taking them all on a shopping spree. When I heard it was coming back with the original actor in the lead role...

No question, I would have hunted Satoshi down to insure he was here on opening night. Well... opening night fell through and I did sort of stalk him for a while. I had to challenge him to a battle and win before he'd even consider talking to me - that's what I get for making him act like a Pikachu for food...

Today is the last matinee performance, and I had to fight to get him here. Now that we're actually in the centre, I think he's glad he's here. That gives me a happy warm feeling down in the pit of my stomach.

"I feel woefully underdressed," he murmurs as I hand our tickets to a tuxedo suited usher. He escorts us to our seats, front section, fourth row, centre stage, and then hands us our programs.

"You're fine," I reassure him. Though I reflect I probably should have thrown in a change of clothes as part of the deal. I hated to hurt his Pokémon like that, but when Pikachu fell to my Windie's [Arcanine's] flame-thrower I could have jumped for joy. I practically kidnapped him from the Tokiwa Forest - just left Kasumi and Takeshi to their own devices and ran off with him. I feel my face heat as I realise just how peculiar that all had to have looked.

He sits down and Pikachu curls up in his lap, looking at the stage, her button eyes bright. "So says you," he retorts, paging through his program. I sit next to him and we have an awkward moment of 'who gets the armrest?' I reluctantly surrender it to him and fold my hands in my lap.

"So what's this about again?" he asks, leaning over as the house lights go down. I can feel his chest against my shoulder and his breath against my cheek.

"Watch and see," I return, leaning just enough that I can whisper without disturbing the other patrons. He jerks back and settles in his seat so that he's almost sideways, turned so his back is cradled between the far arm and the seat back. I guess he's still confused...

I try not to let it affect me, though it does on some primal level. Unlike my hatted rival, I have come to terms with the fact that the male form does more for me than the female form. I mean, I can admire a woman just like every other red blooded man - but... face it, it's Satoshi I'd love to have, but he's not an option. I've seen the way he looks at Kasumi - he probably hates her as much as he professes to hate me. So... well... it's got to be love, right?

Since Satoshi's all huddled in his corner, I reassume control of the armrest in between us and sit back to relax. The show will be starting soon. I sigh as the curtains part, revealing the stage. It's a common room of a prison, a dank and dirty place; prisoners lounge in filth on the ground. I know this story so well, I could tell you what's going to happen before it does. I've seen eighteen different productions of it, understudied three, starred in two amateur runs and assistant directed one. It cut severely into my Pokémon journey, but to me, it was worth it. I know I have a promising career on the stage if I ever decide Pokémon training isn't for me. No, not a stereotype at all, right? Gay man with a love for the theatre. You can stop laughing when it's convenient.

"How did you learn about this?" Satoshi asks, catching me off guard.

I quietly relay the story of how my cheerleaders dragged me and my ensuing obsession with it. I leave out the part about the stereotype... if he's still confused that will only make it worse for him. "You were in it?" he asks incredulously.

"Hai," I whisper back. "Five times - only on stage twice though."

He scans over the program again in the faint light. "Who did you play?"

"Not going to tell you," I retort. He'd never believe me if I told him.

"You're going to make me guess?"

"No, I'm just not going to tell you. Now hush."

A single shaft of light spotlights down into the dusky interior as a door on the far back wall of the set opens, revealing four guards, a gentleman and his manservant. The man and his portly servant are hustled down into the gloom and doom. Two guards follow with a large trunk; they set it down and then leave the stage.

The gentleman is of middle age - perhaps late forties, he is obviously a man of courtliness seasoned by cordial humour. From our seats we can see him clearly; he is a kindly man with his very character traits engraved on his face. Childlike innocence, a clever ingeniousness, a serious and boundless curiosity of the nature of man and a sincerity that is nearly self-destructive. In his arms he holds a bundle tightly to his chest, as if this is his security blanket.

The manservant is round of form and appears older than his master. There is an air between them of congenial bickering - much like an old married couple - much like I picture the relationship between my grandfather and my grandmother. They argue and spat but they are clearly devoted to one another.

The captain of the guard pauses at the head of the stairs, just before the portal. "Anything wrong? The accommodations?"

"Who's the old guy?" Satoshi whispers. He scoots just a bit closer so he doesn't disturb anyone else.

"That's the author, Miguel de Cervantes. He wrote Don Quixote, the book this musical is based on," I answer softly. Anticipating his next question I add, "The other man is his manservant."

"No," the actor portraying Cervantes says, and I can mouth the words along if I want, but I don't. I don't want to embarrass Satoshi. "No, they appear quite... interesting."

I briefly wonder if I should have explained more - how Cervantes is being charged for foreclosing on a monastery and therefore blasphemy against the church and how this is the Spanish Inquisition. He doesn't ask me anymore questions, and I hear his soft intake of breath as the captain of the guard leaves Cervantes and Sancho to the mercy of their fellow prisoners. Can he see it? Perhaps not yet... the true star has yet to appear...

He leans forward slightly as he gets drawn into the story. I can see the excitement in his eyes as Cervantes pleads his case to the 'court' of prisoners. He surrenders his stage props and his things but continues to clutch the bundle to his chest.

"Take them, take them I say. Only leave me this," he says, as the prisoner identified as the Duke snatches it from him. The Duke throws it to the ringleader - a man known only as the Governor.

The Governor hefts it a bit, and you can feel the agony in Cervantes' heart as they toy with his prized possession. They want to ransom it, but he has no money. And then they discover it's a manuscript; it's about to be thrown into the fire when Cervantes reminds them they spoke of a trial - a trial among the prisoners. It is now they learn that Cervantes foreclosed on a monastery and that his manservant is along because, "Well, someone had to serve the papers."

The Governor laughs. "These two have empty rooms in their heads!"

"The law says treat everyone equally. We only obeyed the law!" Cervantes shouts in his defence. The Duke laughs and offers to prosecute this case.

When the Governor asks why, he replies. "Let us say I dislike stupidity. Especially when it masquerades as virtue. Miguel de Cervantes! I charge you with being an idealist, a bad poet, and an honest man. How plead you?"

Cervantes, of course, pleads guilty.

"Bravo!" the Governor cries, stepping back to the fire, the manuscript in hand.

Cervantes is now frantic. "Your Excellency, what about my defence?"

"But you just pleaded guilty."

Charming his way with his words, Cervantes replies, "Had I said 'innocent' you surely would have found me guilty. Since I have admitted guilt, the court is required to hear me out."

The prisoners look puzzled. "For what purpose?"

Cervantes looks longingly at his manuscript and says, "The jury may choose to be lenient."

While the Governor admires the cleverness of the ploy, the Duke shouts that he's only stalling for time. And then Cervantes says, "Do you have a scarcity of *that*?"

Cervantes goes on to tell them how he will prove that he is indeed guilty. That he is an idealist because he's never had the courage to believe in nothing. A bad poet, well, that one hurts, but perhaps it is true... And then he proposes to continue his defence in a charade - an acting out of what brought him to this foul place. There are a few protestations until he points out it is an entertainment. As they acquiesce, he tells them that his cast is large, and that he will draw them in as he needs them, but for now...

"Then... with your kind permission... may I set the stage?" Cervantes says with mischievous excitement. The other prisoners assent and he kneels before the trunk, the manservant scurrying over like a well-trained stage manager (yes, that's what the script says) and Cervantes starts assuming a new face, and a new role. The orchestra begins to play as the transformation continues.

"I shall impersonate a man... enter into my imagination and see him! His name is Alonso Quijana... a country squire, no longer young. Bony and hollow-faced... eyes that burn with the fire of inner vision. Being retired, he has much time for books. He studies them from morn to night and often through the night as well. And all he reads oppresses him... fills him with indignation at man's murderous ways toward man. He broods... and broods... and broods - and finally from so much brooding his brains dry up! He lays down the melancholy burden of sanity and conceives the strangest project ever imagined... to become a knight-errant and sally forth into the world to right all wrongs. No longer shall he be plain Alonso Quijana... but a dauntless knight known as - Don Quixote de La Mancha!"

Satoshi's completely enraptured. The magic of this show has caught him as securely as it did me half a lifetime ago. It's wonderful to watch him; his lips are parted, his eyes are fixed to the stage and his hands are on the armrests. I know he's enthralled because his hand is resting on top of mine and he hasn't jerked away.

I allow myself this guilty pleasure as Don Quixote begins to sing...

"Hear me now, oh thou bleak and unbearable world! Thou art base and debauched as can be; and a knight with his banners all bravely unfurled. Now hurls down his gauntlet to thee!

"I am I, Don Quixote, the Lord of La Mancha. My destiny calls and I go; and the wild winds of fortune shall carry me onward, oh whithersoever they blow..."

***

It's almost dinnertime when the play lets out. Satoshi left his hand on top of mine throughout the entire show.

Now, Satoshi bounces down the street singing Don Quixote's theme. "I am I, Don Quixote, the Lord of La Mancha!" His somewhat squeaky tenor isn't as impressive as the actor's booming baritone, but he's trying. He's walking backwards so he can face me as we go down the sidewalk to my car. He's ecstatically happy I made him see this. "Even though he died at the end, it wasn't sad. Because it was the man - Alonso Quijana that died, not the ideals of Don Quixote." He pauses, his face going serious. "I hope that's how people remember me."

"You will be remembered as the greatest Pokémon trainer of our time, and you know it," I say, feeding his ego deliberately. "You're just steps away from the Victory Road - if anyone can beat the Shitennou [the Elite] it's you."

He stops dead in his tracks.

"You think so?"

"Oh come on, I only won our battle because you were so desperately curious to see what I wanted to talk to you about. Admit it."

He sighs. "I've held such animosity for you for so long that Kasumi and Takeshi sort of expect it. I don't really feel that way anymore. I mean..."

I shake my head and cut off his words. "I know exactly what you mean, Satoshi. Are you hungry?"

He grins. "Always!" It's good to know that some things never change.

I take him to my favourite Spanish restaurant in the area - continuing with our theme for the evening. He enjoys his meal heartily, particularly when he's recognised by a group of people he helped at one time or another. He's always doing that, which is why I saw such a connection between Don Quixote and Satoshi - righting the unrightable wrongs and all that. Saving the world, one person and one Pokémon at a time - that's Satoshi for you.

We stay until they close - reluctantly kicking us out onto the street again. But we don't really mind Satoshi's still on this euphoric high from the theatre and frankly, I'm just enjoying hanging out with him again. It's been so very long since we felt at ease with each other. We had a grand old time comparing him to Don Quixote and he did have to agree, he's just as much of a dreamer as the old man was, but he's also as good hearted and kind, ready to remedy the ills of the world.

He also spends most of the time over dessert trying to get me to tell him which roles I understudied and which ones I've played. I finally give in on all but one. There's no way I'm going to admit that one to him. I got to be the Duke/Doctor Carrasco, the main foil to the madness of Cervantes/Alonso Quijana, on stage. I was the understudy for the role of Cervantes/Don Quixote twice and once for Sancho, even though I could never really play the part - I'm too tall and skinny. If I would have signed up for the next production I could have been Cervantes - the director wanted me for that role, but I really had to start devoting time to Pokémon again. And I sort of had a history with that particular director - one I didn't want to revisit.

He's walking backward again; Pikachu hops down the sidewalk next to us and he's walking dangerously close to the curb as far as I'm concerned. "I can't believe I would have missed that if you hadn't insisted I go. Have I thanked you, Geru-chan?"

Oh my... he hasn't called me that... in years.

I knew he shouldn't have had wine with dinner, even if it was a fine de la Vega wine - even if it was just two glasses and he ate more than enough food to counterbalance any tipsiness. I'm just barely legal; I doubt Satoshi is, but to be honest, I can't remember if he's over twenty-one or not. He probably shouldn't have had it in the first place, but I've gone there for so long that they recognise me from cast parties. Yes, I've been on stage at the Tokiwa City performing arts centre - as cast and as crew. It was more thrilling than making it to the Indigo League finals, in my humble opinion. They served us my favourite wine without being asked - now *that's* a good restaurant.

I'm blushing again. "Yeah, you may have, once or twice. And you're welcome." I'm not happy with my response but he is because he does a little hop step. Before either Pikachu or I can cry out warning, he stumbles backward against a light post, a loud clang resounding as his head strikes it. He slumps down to the sidewalk, much like an abused caricature actor. "Satoshi!"

He's groggy, but he's not out completely. I run to his side and gather him up in my arms, hating the little bit of me that finds such wicked pleasure in having him so close. I rest his head on my shoulder and check for bumps. There's no bleeding, and he only winces slightly when my fingertips encounter the sore spot.

"You okay?" I ask him. He nods and tries to get to his feet, pushing away from me. He's unsteady, but he won't accept my offer to help him back to my car. "Satoshi, come on," I say, pleading with him to at least consider going to the hospital and having it checked out.

He looks down at me from where he stands and the strangest light flickers to life in his eyes. "What did you call me?" he asks, an accent that's oddly familiar in his words.

"Your name," I retort, standing up, more comfortable once I'm taller than he is again. He looks up at me imperiously, his hands on his hips. "That is not my name," he says quietly.

"Enough fun and games, Satoshi - I think you really are hurt. Look, just because we're rivals doesn't mean you have to..."

"Who is this... Satoshi?" he asks as I recognise the accent in his voice. It's a dead on copy of the actor who played Cervantes/Don Quixote. He's got amnesia...

Pikachu looks worried and hops over to him, tugging at his pants leg. "Pikapi?" she asks.

He glances down at her and beams a smile. "Ah, Sancho, thou art getting shorter in thine old age!"

He's got amnesia... and he thinks he's Don Quixote.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu asks again. Satoshi draws his eyebrows together and looks at her closely. "Sancho, hast thou been bewitched?"

"Satoshi," I try once more. I have to get him to a hospital, there's one not too far away, but it's late and while this isn't the worse part of town, it's not the best anymore either. Particularly for two young men, one of which thinks he's Don Quixote de la Mancha.

The alleyways here are littered with the trappings of the stage - old scaffolding, torn backdrops, the works. Satoshi grabs a two-foot length of pipe out of a nearby Dumpster - leftover scaffolding, I presume - and wields it like a sword. "I be not this Satoshi!" he protests, waving the pipe at me. He stops and stares at me for a rather uncomfortable moment. Then he drops to his knees in front of me, bowing his head and whipping his hat off. "My lady," he whispers reverently, tucking his hat under his arm.

Oh shit...

He inches forward and takes my hand in his, brushing his lips across the back of my knuckles.

Oh shit...

We are in the right part of town where this doesn't look completely out of line; however, it still could get the crap beaten out of us if the wrong people see it. Not to mention I have no idea what it will do to his reputation.

"Get up," I hiss, jerking my hand out of his, even though I really don't want to. He looks abashed but he rises to his feet, mimicking the tired world-weary air of the knight-errant. "My fair Dulcinea," he says with a fond smile at me.

I have to wonder if he guessed... that final role on stage... I was the understudy, had no idea I'd actually end up on stage in drag, much less as a whore. Once I stopped blushing at the padded costume, it was a joy to be on stage again. It was very challenging; considering she's normally sung by a soprano and my tenor keeps creeping down into a baritone the older I get. I know, being a week over twenty-one is so very old these days.

Is this delusion, or is he just mocking me? Or worse, is this an echo of his mind and he really does care for me? I'm going to end up beating myself up over this, I think just as I hear rude catcalls from across the street.

"Oh boys!" the decidedly male voices coo before they dissolve into random slander and abusive taunts. Gay bashers, how lovely. I know better than to make eye contact with them and I glance over and count quickly. Eight. We're fucked.

Satoshi's eyes go cold and his grip tightens on the 'sword.' "They would *dare* insult my lady fair?" he says with quiet menace.

Great, I'm on stage again; this time, if I don't convince him it doesn't matter, we're both going to get beaten to a pulp. "My lord," I say softly, desperately hoping my voice doesn't carry and grabbing onto his arm for insurance. "They are not worth the trouble."

"They have sullied thy honour, my sweet Dulcinea. I shalt not stand for it."

Before I can react, he's pulled free of my grasp and stalked across the street, Pikachu not more than two steps behind them. I'm really not willing to get this close to people who hate without reason, but I can't let Satoshi get the crap kicked out of him because he was unfortunate enough to walk into a light pole. I follow and wish I had Windie [Arcanine] with me... I knew there were disadvantages to leaving my Pokémon at my apartment.

"Hold, foul blackguards, wouldst thou insult the honour of this kind soul?" he demands.

At least he hasn't given away the fact he thinks I'm a woman...

"Ye know not who this person is, and yet ye would shout out foul names for the sake of garnering attention to thine own stupidity?"

"Hey, cocksucker, we weren't *discriminating,*" one with more than a single brain cell manages to pun with an ugly sneer.

"Let them not provoke you into anger driven combat," I murmur as Satoshi hefts his 'sword' menacingly.

"Thou art correct, my dear heart. Howe'er it seems a battle of wits would be unfair, for they have come unarmed."

"What did that fag say?" another demands.

They start circling around us, and one of them takes throws a punch at Satoshi, catching him above his eye. A small gash appears and blood begins to drip down his face. He swings the pipe once at them, but they're not intimidated anymore. However, I guess that's just what Pikachu was waiting for, because she leaps into the air and thunder shocks the piss out of them. A stray bolt strikes the pipe Satoshi's holding and he goes down.

I kick the pipe out of his hands as Pikachu intimidates the others into running away quickly. The big bad bigots chased away by the electric rat... oh, I'd have to remember this story for the next cast party. We've had trouble with guys like that before...

"Sato-chan?" I ask softly, hoping the jolt shocked him back to 'normal.'

He blinks at me a few times and rubs his head, beginning to panic when his fingers come away bloody. "Shigeru? What happened?"

"Look, I'm taking you to the emergency room. I'll explain on the way, but I doubt you'll believe it."

An hour and a half later he's got four stitches over his right eye, a minor concussion and the usual effects of being thunder shocked. I had to promise the doctor I'd keep an eye on him for forty-eight hours, but I haven't told him that. I don't want him to feel like he *has* to stay. "I did what?"

"You defended my honour against eight redneck assholes," I tell him with a grin as we walk out of the hospital and back to the car.

"Because I thought you were Dulcinea, right?"

"You've got it now. I tried to stop you, but you charged in headlong, just like you always do with everything." He laughs nervously.

"Shigeru... Did you *say* anything that would make me think you were Dulcinea?" He sounds worried, I'm half tempted to say I did, but Pikachu beats me to it and shakes her little head no as we get into the car.

"She's right - you came up with that one all on your own."

"Oh."

I start the car. "Where do you want me to take you? I hadn't planned on keeping you out this late. There's a nice hotel down the street from my apartment. If that's too expensive, I suppose... no, the Pokémon centre is still under reconstruction after the last crew of Masara Town trainers went through. Anou, I have a comfortable couch - you can use the bedroom and I'll sleep on the couch."

He's looking at me funny. "You have an apartment here?"

"Hai... during theatre season I pretty much stay here. I could have played Don Quixote in the last amateur production if I didn't have to get back to my training. My grandfather and my sister still expect me to at least try to be a Pokémon Master. I'd rather act and sing though."

He's quiet, and I still don't know where I'm taking him. "You would make a fantastic Don Quixote, Geru-chan."

Ah... I'm back to being Geru-chan. I wonder what that means?

"I heard the doctor," he says softly. "I suppose the best place for you to keep an eye on me would be your place, right? I can send a message with Pidgeon [Pidgeotto] to let Kasumi and Takeshi know where I am."

I'm blushing and I couldn't say why, but I have the feeling it might have something to do with the fact that his hand is on my thigh, his fingers curving in towards... "Satoshi..."

"Just drive, my lady fair. Take me back to our castle and I will show thee my appreciation for your kindness," he says with a smirk that is more suited for my face than his.

"The love that Don Quixote had for Dulcinea was pure and unsullied by mortal desires," I remind him... but I don't move his hand either.

"I'm not that kind of knight-errant," he says with a wicked grin.

"How do you know I'm that kind of lady fair?" I retort and this time I do pick his hand up and drop it back in his own lap.

He sighs. "Shigeru - "

"Don't apologise, Satoshi. It only makes it worse."

"Have I been reading you wrong?" he asks suddenly.

"Aren't you with Kasumi?" I ask in response.

He laughs - not a scoff, but a full rolling belly laugh. "My God, Shigeru, where the hell did you get that idea?" he manages to choke out through his hysterical tears.

"You're not?" I pause, unwilling to believe what I'm hearing. "You've been with her for years, Satoshi."

He manages to settle down, but not before exploding into giggles again. He calms down again and then shakes his head. "Yes, and she's also dating Natsume [Sabrina] the Yamabuki City [Saffron City] gym leader; she has been since I challenged Natsume for a Goldbadge [Marsh Badge]."

Oh man... have I been reading things wrong... "What about Takeshi?" I ask, determined to rule out all members of his travelling party.

Satoshi's face goes sombre. "It didn't work out," he says quietly. "I suppose I'll always have a soft spot for him, but he wasn't too happy when he realised I was with him bodily, but my mind was somewhere else. You?"

"Nothing that's lasted. Yuri couldn't decide if he loved me or the character I was on the stage, and well... my last couple relationships didn't work out well either. Sort of like yours."

We fall into a strange silence that is neither uncomfortable nor pleasant. I start the car and begin the drive back to my apartment, sort of presuming that's where he wants to go. I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen once we get there though.

"So, you're not seeing anyone now?" he asks abruptly.

"No." I laugh as I realise that I've been involuntarily celibate for nearly a year now. "I don't get a chance to meet anyone while I'm on my journey thanks to my cheerleaders. And well, most of the guys in the theatre are spoken for."

"Shigeru? Are you bi?"

That one causes me to ponder until I pull into the parking garage of my apartment building. "No. I had the chance once, but..." I shake my head as I turn off the car and get out. "It didn't seem right."

"I understand. I had the same problem." He pauses as he comes to stand next to me. He's so close I can smell the antibiotic they used on his cut. "Shigeru?"

"Hai," I reply, half dreading his question.

"You don't have to sleep on the couch if you don't want." There's a definite hint as to why I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch in his voice.

"Satoshi - look, this wasn't some elaborate scheme to get you in my bed - I just wanted to share something with you that I thought you would like if you gave it a chance. I didn't even think you'd find out I live in Tokiwa City five months out of the year." I'm angry and I don't know why. I don't want him to soil the beauty of the theatre with the wicked plotting of a seduction. It's silly, but it means something to me and I don't... I don't know... Maybe I'm over reacting, I don't know...

"I never thought it was, Shigeru." He looks like he's going to say more but his words are swallowed in a huge yawn.

"This isn't the place for this discussion," I say, taking his hand and leading him to the elevator. I pull him into the elevator and use my key to get to my floor. It's one of those safety elevators where you have to keep the key turned in order to keep the elevator moving after a certain hour. For this building, it's between seven p.m. to seven a.m. Each apartment has its own locking doors. I glance to Satoshi when he puts his fingers to my lips.

He silences my protests. "Just once," he whispers and then his lips cover my own. I groan and my knees feel week. Dammit, I knew this was going to happen. I offer no resistance as he coaxes my lips apart and begins to kiss me thoroughly. We only stop when we realise the elevator isn't moving anymore because my hands are now entwined in his hair. I don't want a mercy fuck, Satoshi... I won't be happy with that, I'm going to want you in my bed night after night until you can't see straight for the passion... And I don't think I can have that.

I step back deliberately, making a show out of straightening my clothing. "I can't... I'm sorry." I close my eyes against his hurt expression and force myself to turn the key again until we get to the eighth floor. I have a very nice trust fund from my grandmother's inheritance. I used the interest to pay the rent on this place. As such, I have the entire floor to myself - I had it remodelled into a studio apartment with a loft for the bedroom and bath. I had great fun inviting the stage crew over to help me renovate this thing.

It's a warm, inviting place despite the fifteen-foot ceilings and walls of windows that cover the south and west sides. I have a striking view of the Tokiwa Bay to the south west; the sunsets are spectacular. The windows have off-white linen blinds caught between two panes of glass. It creates a soft natural light when the sun shines through them. A wrought iron spiral staircase - a gift, believe it or not from a metal working class at the Tokiwa University - stretches from the ground floor to the loft. I have a single bathroom and bedroom up there, that's it. Everything else is open; I deliberately went neutrals to the extreme. Beige, brown, tan, cream, ivory. It's all soothing and relaxing, for this is my sanctuary away from the world of Pokémon.

"It's... comforting," Satoshi says as he and Pikachu walk out of the elevator and through the sliding doors into my apartment. I lock down elevator, barring it from stopping on my floor until the morning as Pikachu makes a beeline for the kitchen area.

"Thanks."

"Did you decorate it yourself?"

"No, I thought the theatre stereotype was enough, you know, so I had it done by the set crew. It took me a year to get it to look the way I wanted it," I tell him as I toss my jacket over a chair before I settle down on the leather couch. I'm in my place, my home - why do I feel so ill at ease?

The answer is simple; by the very act of stepping into my sanctum sanctorum he has made it his. The grandfather clock against the east wall chimes the hour as close to one in the morning. I want to shower and I want to go to bed. At the moment, I don't care what Satoshi does. "I'm going to shower - help yourself to the kitchen, mi casa es sou casa and all that." I trudge up the stairs, feeling so much older than twenty-one.

My bathroom looks like a Salvador Dali painting; I'm kind of fond of it. Grandfather can't stand it - it makes him seasick to be in this room with the melting walls and the strange fixtures. It's done in dark blue with red and yellow accents. It's always just enough to make me question my sanity when I wake in the morning.

I throw my clothes in the hamper and step into the shower; pulling the transparent sea green curtain closed - hey, it was on clearance and I wasn't picky. The hot water pounds down on me and I feel better the minute I'm drenched.

"Shigeru?"

My first paralysing thought is that he wants to shower with me, but he can't because of those stitches. I'm suddenly wickedly glad that ass took a swing at him.

"Hai Satoshi?" I reply cautiously.

I hear his sigh even over the sound of the water rushing down on my head. "Why..." He stops and tries again. "Why haven't we ever tried to work out what we did wrong?"

"I didn't know you wanted to," I respond, shampooing my hair briskly as the scent of apricots wafts into the room. Feh, last time I let the cheerleaders restock the toiletries. They stay here when I go back to Masara Town to spend time with my family.

"If I would have come to you four years ago and said I wanted you to be my lover, what would you have done?"

Difficult question; I think back to just what I was doing four years ago. I was understudying for the role of Cervantes in the summer stock season of Man of La Mancha. I was also not seeing anyone at the time, nor was I involved even in passing. I let the water wash the apricot scented suds out of my hair before I answer. "Satoshi... I stopped hating the fact we did it all wrong the day I walked out of the Tokiwa City PAC with Don Quixote's theme whispering in my mind. I knew that day that I didn't want to be a Master - that I want to be a thespian. I just never knew how to tell you that." I grab the soap and finish washing. "Remember, until today I thought you were straight."

"You didn't answer me," he says softly as I turn off the water.

"I don't know, Satoshi. I honestly don't know what I would have done. I'd like to think I would be magnanimous and accept you into my bed with open arms, but I'm pretty sure I would have been suspicious and untrusting - even of you. Four years ago... I got burned bad, Satoshi. I don't think I would have trusted anyone."

He frowns as he hands me a towel over the top of the curtain. We both seem to be doing a good job of pretending that the curtain has a see-through quality to it. "What if you could have been my first, and vice versa?"

"I don't think you wanted me to talk to you when we were twelve, Satoshi," I grumble. He's dredging up things I don't want to remember. I wrap the towel around my waist and head off to the bedroom, turning on the track lights over the head of the bed as I enter. He follows me doggedly, before the abrupt change of colour sends him reeling. Or rather the absence of colour.

The bedroom is black. Pitch black. Black lacquered furniture, black carpet, black walnut panelling on the walls, black velvet curtains, black on black quilt on the bed, and black satin sheets. Even my pyjamas, laid out neatly on the chest at the foot of the bed are black silk. I went through a vampire phase when I decorated this room. There's a silver on black silk painted folding screen in one corner. I grab my pyjamas and get into them behind it.

As I emerge from behind the screen with my towel around my shoulders, dressed in my pyjamas, Satoshi grabs my wrist. "Twelve?" he asks in disbelief.

"I've been in the theatre for eleven years, Satoshi. The director took a liking to me and I was naïve as hell. It wasn't good, but it wasn't bad; I've been with worse since then." I try to laugh it off, but it's hard. I'm not comfortable talking about it and I have never *ever* slept with anyone again to keep a role. It's the real reason I didn't play Cervantes when I had the chance - same director and he wasn't exactly subtle about his appreciation for 'how I've grown'. I couldn't imagine letting him touch me again.

"Aren't you worried?"

"About what? AIDS?" He nods. "I'm not stupid Satoshi. I'm clean. I get my blood test just like everyone else, twice a year just to be safe. I use protection like a good little boy. Now, if we're done with the lecture, I'm tired."

"Shigeru, I'm sorry. I don't like the idea of anyone hurting you," he murmurs.

"I don't think anyone could hurt me the way you did, Satoshi," I say candidly. "I know we reacted badly, we should have thought it through - but we were *nine.* It's not like we could ask anyone if it was 'bad' or 'wrong.' It felt right to us, but everyone said it wasn't right." I shrug; my theatrical background is getting the better of me. I pry my hand free and go to the dresser. I throw a clean pair of pyjamas at him and gesture at the bathroom. "Get ready for bed. I don't want to talk about it; I don't want to think about it. I just want to sleep, okay?"

And with that, I head downstairs to feed my Windie before going to bed. I hate leaving him in his Pokéball all day, but he has a tendency to mark the apartment, if you know what I mean. He's just not really suited for city life. I should send him back to grandfather, but I just don't have the heart. I'm recalling him back into his Pokéball when I hear Satoshi on the stairs.

"What's wrong?" he asks, as I ascend the stairs.

"I'm tired of not finding the person I love because I'm looking in the wrong places," I tell him crossly. He scrambles out of my way and then follows me to the bedroom.

"But you do love someone?" he asks hesitantly.

Dammit, I'm more tired than I thought to let that slip. "Hai, but I don't think they can love me the way I need them to. So it's a non-issue. Which side of the bed do you want?"

He doesn't seem to have an answer. "Aren't you going to dry your hair?" he inquires meekly.

It's the last thing I expected him to ask as I turn off the lights. "No. How else do you think I get it to spike like that - I sleep on it wet - works better than anything else I've discovered. I usually sleep away from the door." I suit my actions to my words and get in on the far side of my queen-sized bed - no, that wasn't a pun.

I spread the towel over my pillow and turn my back to him. I'm irritated and angry, not the best combination for restful sleep. I'm trying very hard not to imagine him in the pyjamas, the way the silk clung to his body, trying to ignore the way the bed dips and wiggles as he settles himself on the other side and the slight jump as Pikachu curls up at the foot of the bed.

I'm literally sleeping with him and I can't remember the last time I was so miserable. I hear the silk of his pyjamas move against the satin sheets with a soft slippery noise. I can picture him, his hands folded behind his head as he looks up at the star dusted ceiling. My way of lightening things up - the textured ceiling is spattered with glow in the dark paint.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

I can't help but rise to the bait. "Why are you sorry Satoshi?"

His voice is soft and I can hear the intake of breath as he tries to stifle tears. "It was rape, wasn't it?"

Oh god... I don't want to get into this... "Yes, technically it was, I suppose. I was twelve; he was over twice my age. Why won't you drop it?"

The bed moves as he places his hand on my shoulder. I can feel tremors in his fingers; he's shaking. I don't know what I'm expecting when I let him turn me on my back, but it's not for him to fall sobbing into my arms, muttering about how sorry he is and how it was all his fault. His fault? What the hell is he talking about?

That sounds like a pretty good question, so I repeat it aloud. "Satoshi, what the hell are you talking about that it's your fault?"

"I hated you so very much for pushing me away. You were my only real friend Shigeru, and I was angry. And then when you insulted me in front of everyone, it burned so bad. I spoke with my mother, not too long after I started my journey and she asked about it. I told her everything. How we starting kissing and then how we overheard it being wrong for two boys to be attracted to each other - even at such a young age and..." He sniffles and hiccups. "And she told me that you must really love me to let me go... But I couldn't get past the bitterness, I didn't want to and I almost did... when we were eleven. If I could have just found the words..."

I hold him close; ignoring how happy this is making my libido. "Satoshi... I don't think I was ready for you then. I don't think I was ready for you until now. Everything I've experienced since the day we parted ways has changed me and turned me into the person I am now. And I actually kind of like me as I am. I don't think I could have been your first, Satoshi. It would have been too much. Face it, we were both severely lacking in the practical arts."

He laughs slightly, but his tears still dampen my pyjama top. "Why won't you let me love you tonight?" he asks.

I close my eyes and try to fight back my own tears. "I don't want to have a chance at the dream only to wake up and face reality," I say, hiding what I can't say quite so bluntly in a metaphor.

"It's me, isn't it? I'm the one you love and can't have the way you want."

"Yes," I confess, feeling at ease now that it's off my chest, but it hurts so very much to have him know that.

"Shigeru... You're the reason Takeshi broke it off. I was with him, but..." He looks up at me and in the darkness I can see the truth shimmering in his eyes. But in his mind he was with me...

"I can't do a one night stand, Satoshi. I can't love you tonight and let you go tomorrow never to know when I'll see you again. I can't live like that. It took me too long and I worked too hard to find myself."

He rests his head against my chest, and I know he can hear my heart pounding. "I don't have to go back," he whispers.

I start to laugh, and then I'm sobbing, just like he was. Oh, like this isn't some sort of comedic tragedy. "You can't *not* be a Pokémon trainer, Satoshi. It's in your blood, you'd hate staying here."

His response is so quiet I barely hear it over the thunder in my ears. "I would for you."

No, oh no, no, no, no... "Don't be so damn noble. I said you were like the mad knight - not that you are. I'm supposed to believe you could live here with me, dealing with the theatre crowds and the parties and the whole gay scene?"

"I'd be with you. Nothing else would matter."

I have a sudden brilliant flash of inspiration. "Half and half. I'll go with you journeying for half the year and we spend the winter here with the theatre."

It sounds fantastically simple. There's the advantage that I don't have to really do anything for money. I'm the little rich gay boy, what can I say? I can support us. To have him here, every night, to love him... I want to believe it would work so much that it hurts.

"Whatever it takes. I'm tired of not being understood, and not being happy. I've always wanted you Shigeru. Please tell me you still want me."

I don't tell him. I show him by pulling him up and kissing him gently, softly, and reverently. Like I wanted to when I first found him in the forest yesterday. I would have loved to draw this out slowly, make it last until the dawn, love him every way I've ever learned and invent some new ones. But we are tired, and he is one of the walking wounded, and... after it's over we sleep in each other's arms, satisfied and exhausted.

***

The morning light brings with it the reality of what we promised each other. We've essentially committed ourselves to one another, even though we haven't seen each other in a year prior to yesterday. He goes to the roof to let his Pidgeon fly with a message to Takeshi and Kasumi while I scavenge my kitchen for food. I haven't been here much lately, and there's very little outside of instant coffee and stale rice cakes leftover from the cheerleaders. We drink the instant coffee and we let Pikachu have the rice cakes.

We sit in silence at my oak kitchen table, but it's not comfortable. The question that hangs over us is, "Now what?"

"You want to go out for breakfast?" I ask him. "There's a little café around the corner that has the best Belgian waffles that you've ever tasted."

He looks up at me with those dark, dark eyes. "This is going to work, right?"

I reach across the table and take his hand in mine. "We'll make it work."

He smiles and suddenly I know I'm right; we *will* make it work. "Shower?" I offer, raising an eyebrow with obvious intent.

"Stitches," he reminds me.

"Bath?"

I leave him to recover and to find something of mine that will fit him and go downstairs to wait for him. As I wait, I pick up one of my prized possessions, a 1984 Fender Stratocaster electric guitar. I don't plug it in; I just set my fingers to the strings and play whatever comes to mind. I'm not consciously aware of what I'm playing, but then I realise what melody is pouring from the guitar...

"To dream the impossible dream,
To fight the unbeatable foe,
To bear with unbearable sorrow,
To run where the brave dare not go.

"To right the unrightable wrong,
To love pure and chaste from afar,
To try, when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!

"This is my Quest, to follow that star,
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far,
To fight for the right, without question or pause,
To be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause!

"And I know, if I'll only be true to this glorious quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm when I'm laid to my rest.

"And the world will be better for this,
That one man, scorned and covered in scars,
Still strove with his last ounce of courage,
To reach the unreachable stars!"

I'm brought out of my song induced daze by the sound of clapping as Satoshi comes down the stairs. I'm blushing furiously as he walks across the apartment and catches my hands in his, kissing my fingers. "I wondered what these calluses were from," he says with a grin. "That was beautiful, Shigeru. Absolutely beautiful. Your talents would be wasted as a Pokémon trainer, love." He makes me set my beloved guitar aside and then pulls me up into his arms.

"You're going to damn me with your flattery, Satoshi," I tell him as we head for the elevator with Pikachu on his shoulders. He's wearing my clothes, and I have to admit they almost look better on him. I note with wicked glee that my jeans are just a tiny bit too tight for him, but I'll enjoy the view all the same.

Over waffles that are to die for and rich French coffee, we plot our futures together. It's rather domestic and charming in a 1950's sort of way. "So when are the League Challenges this year? Are you going to try?" I ask as he pours himself another cup of coffee from the carafe.

"Summer - around July. I have lots of time. If my Pokémon aren't ready this time, then it's just not meant to be."

"Really?" I ask after swallowing the last bite of my breakfast. He nods as I take a sip of my coffee. "I'm not in any shows this year. I had a chance to some Gilbert and Sullivan for summer stock, but face it, Man of La Mancha is my true passion. I only do the other stuff for practice."

"So where does that leave us?"

I shrug. "I'm pretty much free to start travelling with you. God knows it will make my Grandfather happy. He won't come out and say it, but he feels I'm wasting my time on the stage."

"I think I'd like to stay in the city for a little bit," he says, looking at me strangely.

"What's wrong?" Even though there's a smile on his face, his eyes are sad and I take his hand much like I did when we were at my apartment.

"Kasumi got the message and sent another back. Takeshi's not happy. He wasn't happy that I wasn't with him, but now that I'm here, he's really unhappy. She suggests a short vacation of a week or so while she and Natsume sort him out."

I nod sagely. It's always one thing to know your lover is thinking of someone else when they're with you. It's another completely to have them - no matter *how* broken off your relationship is - actually go join that person. Oh, Satoshi never said that I was the one in his thoughts while Takeshi possessed his body, but you don't have to be a brain surgeon to figure that one out either.

Our waitress brings the check and then senses we need privacy and bails quickly. "Satoshi. It's all right. It's not like you're not welcome here." I wince at my use of the double negative but he's not really paying attention to my grammar right now.

He laughs, but it's slightly bitter.

"Feh, come on," I say taking his hand and dropping enough money for tip and bill on the table. "We're going shopping."

I can't help it; the mall is my favourite place to drown my sorrows. So I figured it was good enough to drown Satoshi's too. I spend *way* too much money on him and then we head to Wal-Mart (I know, I should shop at some cute little patisserie or something, but Wal-Mart's cheaper and closer) where we stock up on all the essentials. Food, Pokémon kibble, dish soap, laundry stuff, litter box and etceteras for Pikachu and the rest of the works. By the time we're done, it looks like we're going to be holing up at my apartment for at least a month. I say as much and Satoshi laughs.

"I'd love to stay that long," he says as we start hauling everything up to the apartment. It's almost dinnertime by the time we put everything away. I'm not a gourmet, but I can at least make stuff that tastes good. We have a nice quiet dinner at the table, which Satoshi enjoys quite a bit. The table is cleared and the dishes are done together, like we've been doing it for years. It's amazing how well we work together.

I keep expecting to wake up from this dream and find myself alone in my bed with sticky cold sheets. The image is tragically amusing and I laugh without thinking.

"What?" Satoshi demands from where he feeds Pikachu on the floor.

I don't know if I can tell him, but I get the gist of it across. It doesn't feel real.

"Our own impossible dream?"

"Hai."

He shows me that it's not a dream. I can't remember when I've been loved with such thorough gentleness. He knows exactly what I like and how I like it, and I can't explain how he could. Last night was barely enough time to be intimate much less truly begin to learn each other. Satoshi brings me to completion and then softly asks if he can have me. I'm weeping by the time he comes within me. Just from the sheer emotion it invokes. We sleep naked on my leather couch, wrapped tightly in each other's arms. I think it's a sin to be this happy...

***

The inevitable need to use the bathroom wakes us at the same time. I make evil jokes about needing to install another toilet after we're done. He pushes me into the shower and then closes the curtain behind him. We're careful with his stitches as I wash his hair. This time it's not loving, but just learning the planes and angles of his body. I love his taste and his smell, even though now we both reek of apricots. Irritating cheerleaders...

We turn the water off and a buzzing noise cuts through the stillness of the apartment.

"What's that?" Satoshi asks as I pull on my robe.

"The studio apartment equivalent of a doorbell," I tell him as I go downstairs. He follows behind me, a towel wrapped around his hips. I'm worried, mainly because A - no one knows I'm in town besides a few of the theatre folks and B - well, no one knows I'm in town. Which means I have the really bad feeling that our early morning guest is here to see Satoshi.

I push the intercom button by the door. "Hai, eighth floor."

"Shigeru? Where's Satoshi!" Kasumi's voice is panicked. Oh shit. Before I'm aware of it, three forms manifest in the middle of my apartment. I turn and Satoshi sort of hides behind me as the images resolve into Natsume, Kasumi and Natsume's Yunghelor [Kadabra.] "Oh, thank god, we got here first!" Kasumi says, slumping into my favourite recliner. Natsume sits next to her, obviously uncomfortable.

I realise that I should probably take control of the situation. I send Satoshi upstairs to get dressed and putting on my best stage face, I make coffee for the ladies. I putter about in the kitchen and after they have time to adjust to the moment, I make conversation.

"What's going on?" I inquire politely as Kasumi slips her hand into Natsume's. They are very striking together, Kasumi's orange-red locks next to Natsume's dyed dark green tresses, both pale of complexion. Kasumi's ocean blue eyes and Natsume's fathomless dark ones; they're enough to make me wish I could draw or at least had a camera. Even their clothing compliments, Kasumi in yellow and blue and Natsume in crimson and black. And it's obvious they love each other deeply, even though Natsume doesn't express it well.

"Hiroshi discovered that Satoshi went off with you and he left Takeshi. Now Takeshi's all freaking out that Satoshi's not there to catch him on the rebound," Kasumi says, her free hand making gestures at every word. She'd make an excellent character actor.

"I wasn't aware Takeshi was with Hiroshi," I say, pulling my robe just a bit tighter and getting out the cups and stuff. I hadn't seen the young man when I collected Satoshi the day before. There had been no sign of him at the camp. I find this very disturbing, because now that I think on it, I never saw Hiroshi, even when I was deliberately following Satoshi and company to challenge Satoshi to a match to get him to come to the theatre with me.

"He was a poor substitute for the one Takeshi really wants," Natsume says softly. "And he was not exactly subtle in letting Hiroshi know that."

Kasumi sort of sighs and leans her head on Natsume's shoulder and Natsume puts her arm around her. The wish for a camera returns - they're just too perfect, what can I say? They remind me of Satoshi and myself.

I think back to my few meetings with Hiroshi and realise that he and Satoshi are almost twins in their manners and personalities; even in build they resemble each other. I shudder, I can't imagine doing that. Replacing a lost lover with their near twin? That's creepy. Especially when you think that Takeshi dumped Satoshi, not vice versa.

"I suppose getting Satoshi's note this morning didn't help matters, ne?" I say, staring at the coffee dripping into the pot. If I don't look at the coffee-pot, I'll keep staring at them and I get the feeling Natsume's uneasy enough as it is.

"It would have been fine if Hiroshi hadn't gotten bitter. Lots of yelling, lots of screaming. I came when I felt Kasumi crying; I was so worried when I couldn't get her to answer me. Being there during their fight was like being at ground zero for a nuclear explosion." She sighs and Kasumi begins to massage Natsume's temples. Telepaths... empathy. She must be in a lot of pain right now. "Can I get you anything?"

She laughs slightly, surprising me because she's so serious all the time - even when she smiles. "Straight shots of tequila until I'm drunk would be good, but barring that, Excedrin will work nicely."

The three of us laugh nervously as I rummage around in the cabinets by the sink and discover the familiar green bottle. I bring it and two cups of coffee to the ladies. Pikachu appears on the balcony outside the bedroom and chatters nervously. "I'll be right back... Help yourself to whatever..."

I lock down the elevator again - hey a little paranoia is a good thing - and then go upstairs. Satoshi's huddled in a little ball in the middle of my bed, my pillow held tightly to his chest. I think my heart is breaking. I touch his shoulder lightly and he cringes, curling in on himself further. Oh god, Satoshi, what did he do to you?

"It's me, Sato-chan," I whisper, sitting down next to him.

He sort of flops on me, his head in my lap, his arms loosely around my waist, as if getting closer required more energy than he has at current. I gather him up and hold him closely as he cries. "Shigeru..."

"You have to calm down, love. You're giving Natsume a headache."

This makes him cry harder, because then he's sorry he's hurting her. I sigh.

"Come on, deep breath in, deep breath out." I make him go through the breathing exercises I use to combat stage fright and he manages to settle down. "Now, what's wrong?"

"I was with Takeshi for almost a year and then he broke up with me." He sighs and a few more tears roll down his face. "I did love him, Shigeru. I did as best I could, I wasn't consciously trying to..." He blushes again.

"It's okay Satoshi."

"I don't know if I ever really wanted him as a lover. One night when Kasumi was gone and he started asking me how I felt about girls and stuff. I was seventeen... I went to answer him and he kissed me and never really gave me a chance to say no. After that, it just was."

"I know. It happens, Satoshi." Okay, so I can't bring myself to admit I've been there, done that. Relationships for the sake of relationships - a way to combat the loneliness.

"And when I said your name... at a bad time. He called it off right there and then." He closes his eyes and sighs heavily again. "Shigeru, I was hurting so very badly and so I threw myself into Indigo League challenges and I met Hiroshi and we hit it off well. We did the one night stand thing and decided we were better friends than lovers, but Takeshi sort of latched on to him and..." He sighs bitterly and I tighten my arms around him.

"Long story short, I used Takeshi because I couldn't have you, but then again, I didn't know what I wanted from you when Takeshi kissed me that night. Takeshi used Hiroshi because he couldn't have me the way he wanted. Hiroshi... got the bad end of the deal. And he probably realised it when they got my message. You have no idea how badly I wanted to stop that," he whispers. "But Hiroshi wouldn't listen to me, and if I said anything to Takeshi he'd think I was crawling back to him and I would rather have died than done that."

I rock him gently and brush my fingers through his hair. I learned that he liked that last night. "Where was Hiroshi when I came and got you?" I ask softly.

Satoshi turns bright red, not just on his face but it travels down his body to his chest. "Take -" I press my fingers to his lips. I understand; he doesn't have to say anymore. Hiroshi was off licking his wounds, to put it politely. I try to remember Takeshi from the first time I met him when I challenged him for the Greybadge [Boulder Badge] and I don't remember him being so like the Pokémon he trains, but I suppose... Forced to raise his brothers and sisters, no outlet for his sexuality. I know he goes both ways... Hey, my cheerleaders like to talk about their conquests and he was no exception.

It's about then I recall the livid bruises that Xiu tried to keep hidden until they faded. My mind suddenly makes the connection... Takeshi... dammit, not only has he shattered Satoshi and Hiroshi but he abused one of my girls? They're like sisters to me and now...

Now, I'm getting coldly angry and I'm trying to keep it under wraps so I don't hurt Natsume, but I don't like the idea of that rock Pokémon trainer being so rough. I can't help but wonder how many nights Satoshi wept with pain as he took him. I hold him tighter and he melts against me; I swear right there that Takeshi will never lay another hand on him - ever. Hiroshi either, if there's a damn thing I can do about it. I'm beginning to think he would have come with me even if he truly did hate me. I can't imagine night after night having to listen as Takeshi took Hiroshi and wished it was Satoshi writhing beneath him...

"How did Kasumi and Natsume know how to find us here?" I ask softly.

"I let Kasumi know that if she needed to find me to have Natsume bring her to me. That's what they did, focused on me. I made sure Takeshi couldn't find me, no address, no clue - I don't even think he knows I'm in Tokiwa City." He's shaking.

The buzzer announcing I have company rings throughout the apartment. I quickly get dressed, just randomly grabbing clothes from my closet. I end up in black jeans and a dark grey poet's shirt. How bohemian... And of course it just screams, "I'm gay! Kick my ass!" But I don't have time to change though as I pull on my boots.

"Get dressed and come downstairs when you feel up to it. Send Pikachu to the top of the stairs if you need me." He nods dumbly as I run a brush through my hair and pull most of it back in a ponytail - no time to play with it today - I think as the normal stuff that's too short to be pulled back falls into my eyes. I'm about to leave and I just have to kiss him once more. "It's going to be okay, Satoshi. I've dealt with jealous ex's before." He laughs slightly and then kisses me.

My cheeks are flushed as I run down the stairs and slide on the banister for the last four steps. "Sorry about the noise, ladies," I apologise, making my way to the intercom. "Hai, eighth floor."

All I can hear is heavy angry breathing. I slowly release the 'talk' button and look at Natsume and Kasumi. "It's him," Natsume whispers, her eyes glowing blue. It takes me five seconds to resolve my course of action. I relay my directions to Satoshi about Pikachu to the ladies and then open the elevator.

"You can't go down there unarmed!" Kasumi shrieks.

"Hey, eleven years of dancing and fencing has to be worth something, right?" I quip with more confidence than I feel before I let the doors close. As the elevator descends, Natsume and her Yunghelor appear next to me. "Didn't think I could win?" I ask with more humour than I feel. Takeshi's a big guy; I have no doubt he can wipe the floor with me. I was just hoping to reason with him before he uses me as a floor mop.

"Kasumi doesn't want to pick up the pieces of Satoshi if he hurts you," she says quietly. The elevator seems agonisingly slow today. To pass the time I tell her how Satoshi obtained his battle scar. It doesn't take long, since she's familiar with the story of the mad knight-errant.

"He took on eight rednecks armed with a piece of pipe?" she asks in disbelief.

"Eight homophobic intolerant rednecks while under the delusion he was Don Quixote de La Mancha. He would have tipped windmills if it suited him at the time," I reply as the elevator reaches the parking lot. The doors slide open and we're face to face with a very angry Takeshi.

"You," he seethes, looking at me.

I bite back the quip that sounds perfect for the situation but will probably get me killed. "Takeshi-san," I greet formally. I even bow slightly, but not enough that I lose eye contact with him. Hey, I'm not *that* stupid. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

If he didn't squint so much I might have a clue of what he's thinking and what he's about to do. There's a tiny little tightening in the skin around his eyes right before he knocks me out cold. His fist impacting with my face is the last thing I see... Those brown knuckles in extreme close-up...

***

I feel an odd whisper of thought over my mind and then I hear a calm voice say, "He's going to be all right." My head is pounding like the bass line to Du Hast and I can feel something cold on my forehead. I struggle to open my eyes and there's two brown pools nearly overflowing with water. And then it's dripping on me and I realise... that's Satoshi... and he's crying. Not again...

"Geru-chan?" he says softly.

That sounds like my name... I think. "Satoshi?" My voice sounds funny to me, hollow or something. "What happened?"

"You were stupid," he says crossly, sniffing and wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I was?" I remember that fist coming at me with amazing power and have to admit, yes, I was very stupid.

"You were," states a voice I vaguely recall as Natsume's.

I now recall that the fist that struck me down was attached to a very irate Takeshi. "Um... what happened *after* I was stupid?"

"I subdued Takeshi. Your car sustained superficial damage," Natsume says in the same tone of voice she always uses.

I can't quite correlate just how Takeshi being subdued and my car getting damaged interact with each other. I guess it will come later. Satoshi adjusts whatever that cold thing is on my forehead and I wince. "Now what?"

"Now you can decide if you want to press assault charges," a new voice says. Wait, that's Kasumi. Okay. I shouldn't be this rattled, should I? It's been ages since I've been KO'ed...

Cops... um... no that could get messy. "No... no charges."

"Shigeru, he punched you out!" Satoshi says far too loudly for my liking. I put my hands over my ears. "I'm aware of that. But my grandfather will kill me if I drag our name through the courts. Particularly considering this rather complex knot here."

Translation... he doesn't care if I'm gay as long as no one with any influence in society knows... To be honest, Ojiichan didn't take the whole concept well; Nanami had to work on him for a long time. When I'm home, we just pretend it's not an issue - sort of like, I go to Masara and I pretend I'm straight.

Satoshi takes what I now realise is an ice pack off my forehead and then helps me sit up. Slowly though, for that Ramstein song is still playing the bass loudly in the back of my brain. I blink a couple times and see Natsume and Kasumi sitting in the recliner. Takeshi is tied to one of my kitchen chairs; his head slumped on his chest. I wish we could just let him go, but I don't want to end up getting stalked or something. Or worse, having him stalk Satoshi.

"Natsume-san, is there anything you can do about..." Feh, I'm loathe to even say his name for fear of rousing him.

"Just what do you have in mind?" she asks, looking at me curiously. Where'd Kasumi go?

"Can you make him think he didn't find my apartment, and he didn't punch me out?" I ask, ignoring the blinding pain in my head. I feel someone put something cold in my hand and then curl my fingers around something small and chalky. Ah - drugs. Good. "Excedrin?" I ask Kasumi, 'lovely-redhead-who-brings-painkillers.' She nods and I down the tablets with a bit of difficulty.

Natsume seems to be considering this seriously. "Unless it is in a Pokémon battle, we telepaths are not encouraged to use our powers on others. However, he is dangerous. Even in this unconscious state I can feel his hate towards you and his jealousy. He wants Satoshi back...." She pauses and frowns and I have the feeling he wants more than just Satoshi back. I'm really starting to fear for my lover. "I will see what I can do."

The uncertainty in Natsume's voice unnerves me; I don't want her to do anything that will endanger herself. I'll take Takeshi to court if I have to first. I grab Kasumi's hand and pull her down to my level. "This won't hurt her, will it?"

Kasumi's expression mirrors that of her lover. "I don't know. There's a lot about her powers I just don't understand."

"It's done," Natsume intones. She glances at her Yunghelor and Takeshi vanishes. She thoughtfully leaves my chair at the table.

"Where did you send him?" I ask, willing my head to stop hurting by way of mentally forcing the Excedrin into my bloodstream.

"The Gym," she responds, sitting in the chair once occupied by Takeshi. Kasumi goes to her side and hugs her. Women are so lucky - if anyone saw that no one would assume they were gay... even though they are. "It's the only place in Tokiwa I have been that I can remember easily."

"So now what?" Satoshi asks, putting his arms around me and leaning my head on his shoulder. I feel better instantly. Gee, this is nice.

"What about Hiroshi?" I blurt out. Oh good, punching me out makes me punchy.

"He's at my Gym. My father is taking care of him," Natsume responds. I get the impression that he was in bad shape. It's not fair; he didn't deserve what Takeshi did. No one did, but least of all him. I try to filter through everything and it's about then my brain decides that sleep is the best thing for me. Since I'm nice and comfortable, I don't argue.

***

I wake to the sound of a violin, a flute and the piano that I managed by quirk of fate to have tuned two weeks ago. It takes me a few minutes to realise I'm on my couch, and that by peering over the back I can see Satoshi at the piano - it makes me laugh, because I remember how much he hated those lessons when he was a kid. Natsume has a beautiful old violin that she holds reverently and Kasumi has a gleaming flute. I don't want to interrupt them, so I remain quiet until they realise I'm awake.

"Do you want a fourth?" I ask, wandering over to my guitar.

Natsume and Kasumi give me 'the look' as in 'that monstrosity of electronic music can play something a flute and a violin will work with?' I smile condescendingly, plug it into a clear channel and turn on the small practice amplifier. I pause for a moment to let my head stop hurting from the movement of bending over and when it stops I pick out the opening phrasing for Greensleeves.

Greensleeves ends and I find myself moving into another piece. Satoshi begins to play around what I've started and shortly Kasumi and Natsume join in. It's beautiful and I say as much when the last notes fade into silence.

I still the strings with my fingers and look down at the black leather finish. "If I had known what would occur simply by wanting to take Satoshi to the theatre..." I laugh and strum a few chords. "I would..." I sigh. Truth is, I don't know what I would have done.

Natsume looks at me with a wry smile. "Shigeru, are you listed in the phone directory?"

"No, I don't maintain permanent residence here long enough to make it worth it, why?"

"Just one of those passing thoughts. Takeshi will still want to confront you, he just doesn't know how to find you. You will have to be wary. He is very angry about losing Satoshi in such a permanent way." She kneels next to the case for her violin and begins to put it away. "I need to get back to Yamabuki City. I have a challenger waiting for me. Coming, Kasumi?"

Kasumi is clearly torn between worry for us and desire to be with Natsume. I guess they don't get to spend as much time together as they would like. "We'll be fine," I reassure her. Both women smile, then they and their instruments disappear, along with the Yunghelor. It's about then I realise that no one bothered to explain how Natsume damaged my car while subduing Takeshi.

"How do you feel?" Satoshi asks, gently moving my guitar off my lap so he can take its place.

"Like I got punched in the face by a rock trainer. Is that how I look?"

"You're going to have a shiner tomorrow."

"Oh joy, at least I wasn't trying out for any roles." My head hurts too much to keep this banter up. "Satoshi, why didn't you leave sooner?"

"I didn't know it wasn't right," he admits. "I wanted you so badly and I couldn't have you, and Takeshi was willing... You get used to it..." He closes his eyes and rests his head on my shoulder. "But it's all right now, right?"

"As long as Hiroshi gets some serious counselling." I sigh. "How does leftovers from last night sound for dinner?"

"Let me worry about dinner. Play some more for me." He gets up off my lap and retires to the kitchen. Pikachu looks at me curiously as I pick my guitar up again. I'm mostly through the score for Man of La Mancha when he announces that supper is ready. I'm treated to a delicate stir-fry that I had no idea he knew how to make.

"Much to my chagrin, all my recipes are from my mother, but my technique is from Takeshi. He may have been a bastard in bed, but he's the best chef I know," Satoshi says, sitting down at the table. I'm half worried he was hitting the rice wine, but he seems very sober.

We eat in relative silence, but it's a nice silence. "How about we stay in the city until Takeshi gets over me?" Satoshi asks.

"You don't realise just how hard you are to get over, Satoshi. It took me years to get over you, and I never really was. I just convinced myself I had. It wasn't easy, and I was trying. He won't be trying."

Dishes are done quickly and we sit on the couch and watch the sunset from my apartment windows. By the time the sky is painted in the colours of night, we're falling asleep. This time, we make it to the bedroom where clean white satin sheets await us...

***

I'm brought out of sated sleep by the sound of breaking and crashing glass. The apartment is rigged with a silent alarm and the panel by the nightstand indicates that the police have been summoned. The safe thing to do is simply sit here and wait.

"Shigeru?" Satoshi whispers, his hand reaching for mine in the darkness. I think right now we're both regretting the fact that Pikachu slept on the couch.

I put my fingers to his lips. No unnecessary noises - I'm fairly certain who our nocturnal intruder is. I start to get out of bed and he clings to me. I lean in close and whisper into his ear. "I'll be careful." I pull the cricket bat from behind the headboard and show it to him in the faint light. He nods, but he's not happy.

There's a noise from the bathroom, and I decide I should check that out first. I use the door that joins the bathroom to my bedroom. That's the last thing I remember for a while - opening that door...

***

I hear a muffled scream and I jerk awake. Oh god... I grab the cricket bat and get to my feet as fast as I can. I lurch into the bedroom and see Takeshi's broad back. I bring the cricket bat down as hard as I can on his shoulders. The cricket bat breaks with a sickening crack. He goes down and I push him off Satoshi. Oh god... Satoshi...

I'm dimly aware of the police entering and swarming into my apartment. Satoshi's shaking and crying as I pull the gag from his mouth. I try to untie the knots Takeshi made of my pillowcases but I can't. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I whisper over and over.

Officer Junsa enters the room, her gun drawn. "There," I say, pointing to the space between the wall and the bed. She flips on the lights, nods and three officers come in behind her. I don't know if Takeshi's dead and I don't care.

Officer Junsa approaches us cautiously. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" she asks as she pulls a knife from a sheath on her belt. She cuts the pillowcase away gently and the moment he's free, Satoshi clings to me.

"He should probably..."

Satoshi screams and starts crying harder; he's got me so tight I can barely breath. I hate to say this, but I have to... "We... we were intimate before..." I exhale and try again. "Couldn't run..."

She takes my hand gently. "It's okay. Now, you're going to have to make a statement, but we can keep it quiet. But I really think you should consider going to the hospital. I can't force you to go though."

She's offering to make it so we're not outed... God bless this woman. "What do we have to do?" I ask as her officers lead a handcuffed, bleeding, semi-conscious Takeshi away. I'm half sorry I didn't kill him. I relay what I remember - being warned that my lover has a jealous ex by some concerned friends, the confrontation in the parking garage - I wonder if he'll remember that now? And then the break in and consequent... I can't say it. Not while he's sobbing and trembling in my arms.

It's about then I realise that the sheets are now red with blood...

Satoshi fights the officers tooth and nail but we get him to the hospital before he bleeds to death. I don't know how long I was out, I don't know what Takeshi did to him but apparently the damage was pretty severe. He honestly could have died, and that scares the hell out of me. We're in the ER now... Officer Junsa has arranged things so that Satoshi was just an old friend who was staying with me to get away from unwelcome attentions from a friend. The rest plays out pretty much the same but for the lab ignoring my semen samples when they ran the rape kit on him.

But it's over, right?

Satoshi will heal and I'll heal and we'll get to be happy, someday... when the nightmares stop... and then we'll get to start our own dreams - our impossible dreams.

Until then, I sit in Satoshi's room and listen to the IV stand beep softly in the darkness of a moonless night... I sit, and I wait, and I hold his hand to protect him from the horror of his reality and let him play as the mad knight in his dreams where all is peaceful.

"Shigeru?"

"Satoshi?"

"Don't leave me."

"I won't."

His eyes close and the death grip on my hand eases.

It goes in stages, life does. All the world's a stage you know, and we are merely players...

~owari~