Dry Land
By the Cat in the Hat
(Third Story in the Stages, Holy Tears Arc)

This story is the last in a three story arc - at least, the last to be written by me. Nicole, my charming and talented beta reader is writing a sequel from Hiroshi's point of view. This story was supposed to have some resolution for our dear Hiroshi... However, resolution is something one must find from within. Hope cannot be given or taken away, it must exist within. To live, we must have a reason to go on. It's that simple...

Anyway... as I said, third in a three story arc that started with Stages, continued in Holy Tears and concludes, somewhat, in this Dry Land.

The title comes from a song by Tara MacLean. The lyrics are interspersed throughout the text and are offset by asterisks and italics. Mental communication (if you will remember somewhere in Holy Tears our dear Shigeru learned he was psychic...) is off set by *:; words here :* I used to use arrow brackets until I learned that they are not html friendly.

What else to say... I don't own Pokémon, I don't own the songs I mention or the lyrics or anything, though I wish Stevie Ray Vaughn was still here... Romeo and Juliet is not mine, nor is the Man of La Mancha or any other theatrical works I reference or mention.

Dana-chan assisted me with my poor broken Hiroshi - writing him in parts for me until I got a handle on him. I've discovered I've gotten quite proficient at writing the three Shis (Shigeru, Satoshi and Hiroshi) these days.

This story is rated R, it's limey - which means there's hints of sexual activity but nothing like my usual works of full blown description. There's some bad language, some bad things for Hiroshi... Random information: Shigeru - Gary; Satoshi - Ash; Hiroshi - Richie, Kasumi - Misty; Natsume - Sabrina; Imite - Duplica.

This story is archived at Shadowed Forests (http://neontiger.net/sf) and on Fanfiction.net

Originally, I was going to dedicate this story to Elizabeth Dunn, but the story didn't write the way I thought it would. So given that, I truly think it is best if it is not dedicated to my dear friend Liz. However, I did want to give her a mention, since this was supposed to be for you. I'm sure that when you read it you'll know why I changed my mind, Liz.

I'll write you something fluffy some day, I promise.

--The Cat in the Hat (7 January 2001)

***

The applause is still echoing in my ears as I stumble past my fellow actors and... No... Not another encore. "Come on, Shigeru, you have to!" I'm pulled back on stage against my feeble protests and I find myself doing the familiar step forward, bow and step back. This time I hear my back crack. I look up as the lights flicker and die.

Nope... that was thunder. I now realise that I felt the storm at the back of my mind all during the second half of the show. I think I expected it, but not that the lights would go out. I can feel the tingle of power as I use my psychic powers to create a small glowing orb that coalesces around my hand. Think instant light source. It's something I took a great amount of care and consideration to learn how to do after learning of the constant power failures that plague Yamabuki City.

Mainly because Satoshi's still afraid of the dark...

It's the last lingering thing. I got used to sleeping with a nightlight. It was easier.

The crowd has remained seated - no one is panicking. Even though it's at full capacity, as it has been for the last four shows. Tears begin to fall as I see Satoshi in the balcony with my grandfather, my sister and her husband. Kasumi and Natsume are there, too. Everyone who I care about is here tonight.

It's my last show...

Not forever, no... I don’t think I could walk away from the stage anymore than I could walk away from Satoshi. My eyes firmly fixed on the dark ones of my lover, I bow one last time - for him - and then I blow a kiss to the crowd. Satoshi knows it's for him and him alone.

My psychic light guides me back to my dressing room where I start to shed the persona of the mad knight and reclaim my own identity. "Ookido Shigeru?" a soft voice murmurs from the entrance to my dressing room.

My light vanishes as I reel and fall into the chair in front of my vanity. Images I haven't seen in eighteen months tumble through my brain. But... old pain keens knife-edge sharp as I realise why the images aren't right. They're not through Satoshi's eyes... Then...

I look up as the lights return and show me someone I only truly thought of in passing this past year and a half. "Mikagami Hiroshi?" I murmur. It doesn't look like him. I mean... not like I remember him. But I think I'm seeing the memories more than the man. He... He's haunted... I don't want him to touch me. I... I know I won't be able to block him.

He nods and tries to smile, but it barely touches his lips much less his eyes. I'd retreat if I had somewhere to go. I can't tear my eyes from his. I want to; I desperately want to. "Hiroshi..." My voice cracks and well, I'm always hoarse after a performance for a few hours or so. "Don't take this the wrong way. But please don't come any closer."

"I understand..." he murmurs in a thoughtful tone. "There's very little I take the wrong way anymore."

Oh god... just the pain in his voice... "I - feh. I emote so much during a performance that it's hard to get my shields back up once it's over. Just... Just give me a moment." I close my eyes, feeling more tears break and flow down my cheeks. I don't want to know what he's thinking.

I'm shaking with the effort to build some sort of mental barrier between us. It's so very hard... because I have my own references for those things he's not really trying to project to me. I turn in the chair so I'm facing the mirror... I can still see him, but this is easier. My hands automatically start taking off the makeup once more; I'm falling into routine to soothe myself. It's working. I look like myself again, except for the gel in my hair. Once the wig is removed it sort of springs back no matter how much we use on it.

I finger the streak of silver that has appeared in my forelock in the past year. Since the night Takeshi broke into the church, actually. I thought about dyeing it... I look back up at Hiroshi's reflection. He's blonde. His hair used to be the same shade of red mine is...

He sees me staring at him and touches his own mop of hair. "I needed to change myself," he murmurs. "It's not working, though. No matter what I try... it all stays the same."

"Understood," I whisper. I realise that I've committed a major faux pas of theatre. I took my makeup off before I took my costume off. I'm almost reluctant to shed this last bit of Don Quixote's identity. He'd have some way to help Hiroshi... Not that I'm certain that's why he's here. For all I know he's here to congratulate my long run as the mad knight.

I'm lying to myself. There's only one reason... one possible logical reason Hiroshi would be here now. He needs to bury his past. And to do that... he's got to make peace with Satoshi...

Unreal pain stabs through my chest like Stevie Ray Vaughn using his guitar to make my soul bleed in Little Wing. Oh god... I'm right, that's it. I stagger to my feet. "Excuse me," I murmur, forcing myself to walk behind the screen to change. My street clothes are still here. I keep wondering why Natsume hasn't come to my rescue...

'Because Hiroshi-san asked me not too,' her clear thoughts whisper in my mind. You know; it really bites when your sensei schemes against you. I dress quickly in my jeans and sweater - hey, they're comfortable and classic. "Did you like the show?" I ask, trying to make small talk. I can be pretty damn loquacious when I want to be but now... I think I have myself composed, my shields feel decently strong, and while I'm shaken, I'm not going to break any time soon. I think... I think I'm ready to hear this.

"It was wonderful. You have such a natural talent for the role of the mad knight..." he murmurs. "I've seen this play - I can't remember how many times. But... You give it a certain life..." He waves his hand in a vague dismissive gesture.

"Thanks," I reply. I make myself meet his eyes, such a similar shade to my own, but they're so cold and haunted. I don't remember this lack of height... I have to be honest, I barely know this man. There's something that makes me want to comfort him, to reach out and offer my embrace and give him solace. And I think... it's that same thing that made Takeshi turn to him when Satoshi wasn't with him in mind any longer. I don't want to do that to him. There's something else there. Something that makes him feel like a kindred spirit to my powers. I can't put my finger on that, though.

He's not as beaten as he seems to think he is. I look at him - really *look* at him in that eerie way I've picked up from Natsume. He's stronger than Satoshi. Stronger in his heart, and his soul. Not that my koi is weak or anything. It's just that... I'm not sure if I have words to explain it - the thoughts are so abstract to begin with. He... he reminds me of me...

"Have - have you been all right? Satoshi has been worried. He doesn’t blame you." And that's the truth. He doesn't. He doesn't even blame Takeshi really... It just happened. No blame, no fault as far as he's concerned. It's how he's levelled the field.

"That doesn't mean I don't blame myself," he replies with a slight shrug. "I - I've been haunted by this for so long. I just can't take it anymore..." He wraps his arms around himself tight. I can read his thought so clearly it's as if he spoke it aloud. 'I can't believe that he doesn't blame me, I can't...'

"Why did you come to me first?" I have to know... Because I have this strange feeling he's seeking punishment. Searching for someone to hurt him to make it all better. I can't explain it, which is becoming my catch phrase, but... "He's in the audience. We're in the phone book. Why are you here Hiroshi?"

"I was afraid... Afraid to go to Satoshi," he says with as much strength as he can gather. He clutches himself tighter, so tight it looks like it hurts... And then he laughs and shakes his head. "I have so much emotional baggage, Shigeru, and... Kasumi and Natsume need me to get rid of it all so I can father their child. That's all..."

He is trying to throw me. And it would have worked. It would have if Kasumi hadn't taken me aside at dinner and told me of their plans to try to have a child. Since I was there for her during her surgery and there was that fear of loss of fertility... She hadn't mentioned the donor specifically by name, but just knowing they had such ideas took much of the sting out of Hiroshi's desperate words. I felt... I felt such pure and raw fear when he said Satoshi's name it set my mind on edge.

I'm about to do something stupid. Possibly more than one stupid thing, but the last one is horribly stupid and I know it. "Do you have a place to stay here in Yamabuki?"

He shakes his head again. "No, they kicked me out of the gym until I get myself all sorted out... I want to. I just don't know if it's possible... Why do you ask?"

See... I know Satoshi wants to see him again. That he's been more worried about Hiroshi than anything else, even the League challenges half a year ago. "We have a guestroom at the church," I offer. "Despite what you have burdened your soul with, Satoshi would like to see you again. He thought you would have been at the Sekiei Kougen... When you weren't..." I don't want to say more. Because what I mentioned before about Satoshi not blaming anyone isn't exactly true. He has begun to blame himself for not trying to help Hiroshi... Well, that's Satoshi for you...

"I... I heard he won. And then that same day, he gave the title away..." He's deliberately skipping over the stuff he doesn't want to acknowledge. That's fine, I didn't expect him to tell me now. "Do you really mean that? I... It's very hard for me to believe. That he'd..."

"He just wanted to prove he could do it. He had no reason or any desire to remain the Pokémon Master. I don't think Pikachu would have been up to the constant challenges. She still limps..." I glance at the floor and then look up at him again.

"I knew you were at the Gym. Natsume said you didn't want Satoshi to know you were there. I respected that. But if you want to make peace with him, you've got to do it on my terms, and one of them is that I know what's going on between the two of you at all times."

I can feel the hint of blue creep over my vision and I force the response down. "I love Satoshi more than my own life, Hiroshi. And I wouldn't even dream of letting you do this now if I didn't think he could handle it. It's been a year and a half since Takeshi broke into my apartment in Tokiwa City, raped Satoshi and tried to kill us both. It's been a year since he stalked us here and Pikachu stopped him - barely. I'm not trying to be brutal. Those are the facts. And... I know they pale in comparison to what you lived through with him."

I try to step closer and he ducks behind the coat stand. He actually smiles and shakes his finger at me. "Natsume said you'd probably try something like that."

I think I'm blushing. "She's probably right. I'm still mastering a lot of this stuff. Learning I have touch perception was a bit of a shock. Okay, I'll behave; I won't try it again. Come on, they'll be waiting for me." I grab my overcoat and my hat from the stand, taking pains not to come within his personal space.

Yet as I go to lock my dressing room door, I turn to find Hiroshi standing still. "Thank you, Shigeru. I don't want to mess this up..." I pause and look back, and then he follows after me. "I don't know what to expect from Satoshi, Shigeru... I don't."

He shakes his head slowly. "I - I really don't know what to expect. I don't... I don't know how he could possibly forgive me..."

I find an odd grin on my lips. "He's Satoshi - that's how."

"Ne, Shigeru, I... I don't want to impose. I'll just stay at a hotel..."

"No. If... *if* he breaks, I'll need to know why and I'm not going searching all over the damn city for you."

"I wouldn't feel comfortable. Not until you talked it over with him. I'll just go to the Pokémon Centre..." He trails off as I shake my head. "There's no way I'm letting you stay there." I get my wallet out and find my business card. "Go to this hotel, they have a suite reserved for visiting theatre stars. I'll call and let them know you're coming."

"I'm not a theatre star," Hiroshi says softly.

I grin wickedly at him. "But dahling, you could be." I set the card on the table just inside my dressing room and step far out of the way so he can take it without coming in contact with me. He picks it up on his way out.

"Are you serious?"

"What, about you being an actor?"

He nods. "Why not? It's in your soul; I can see it. And there's always a thousand behind the scenes jobs if you're not brave enough to get on stage."

"I'll come by tomorrow around one - will you be awake?"

"If the cast lets me leave before dawn, yes," I reply. I watch Hiroshi exit and I pull my cell phone from my coat pocket and call the hotel letting the manager know to expect Hiroshi as my guest. As I hang up and put the phone away I feel Satoshi watching me. I turn and he rushes into my arms. "I can't believe you're going to quit," he whispers, tears in his eyes. "You were incredible tonight - better than the first time I saw it."

I blush at his compliment and kiss him soundly. "If you can walk away from the title..."

"It's not the same thing and you know it... What's wrong?"

I see my grandfather and company standing just down the hall. This is not the time. I have my duties as the lead to take care of. I have a cast party to attend and I have to be myself, not dwelling in the memories of Takeshi's tainted love. "I'll tell you when we get home. I don't want to ruin the party. You know how badly I emote after being on stage."

He laughs. "True, you can be such a damn downer." Satoshi hooks his arm in mine and we join my family down the hall.

It's close to dawn when Satoshi and I leave my immediate family at their hotel and stumble back to the church. Despite my exhaustion, he makes love to me thoroughly and completely and when he knows he has me at his mercy, he asks why Hiroshi was at the theatre.

"Sato," I whine, attempting to cover my head with a pillow.

He yanks it away and then pounces on me. Dammit, how can he have this much energy after tonight? He pins me to the mattress, holding my hands over my head. "Satoshi..."

"I know you're tired, but you won't wake up until after I have to go into the studio tomorrow, and I want to know," he murmurs, teasing kisses across my bare chest.

"You're going to kill me," I retort, but it's not spiteful. I think Satoshi is the only one who can bring me to completion and then demand more of me knowing he will get a response. Particularly after tonight. "All right," I relent. He lets go of my hands and snuggles up next to me, pillowing his head on my chest. You'd think this was better, but it's just as arousing because it's Satoshi.

"Why was Hiroshi there?"

"He wants to make peace with you, Sato-koi," I murmur, kissing his temple. I can feel the shudder pass through him. "He blames himself," I whisper and then I feel his hot tears on my skin.

"I - it's not his fault," Satoshi mutters, rubbing his face against me like a cat claiming ownership of his master. "I don't blame him."

I touch his face gently, reassuringly, and my fingertips brush over the scar on his cheek left by Takeshi's first attack. "I know that, and he knows that. It doesn't stop him from blaming himself though. And he finds that you don't blame him hard to believe. Can you deal with this now, Satoshi?"

He looks up at me in the darkness of our room. "He reached out?" he asks.

I nod. "He needs you, Satoshi. He has to learn to forgive himself. But he's terrified of facing you again."

"What do we do?" Satoshi asks, softly wiping my own tears away.

I tell him how Kasumi and Natsume have kicked Hiroshi out, and that I want to offer him our guestroom. "Ne, darling, did you forget? There's no bed in there anymore."

"Shit. I did." We're in the process of turning that room into a studio for Satoshi to compose in. Now that he's retired from Pokémon training, he's turned his talent for the piano and understanding the way the other instruments mesh into a hobby of composing. He keeps telling me he's going to write me a musical to perform in one day. I honestly think he will. If I can get him to quit writing those sordid little fanfiction stories for Digimon! It was rather creepy to be perusing my old friend Dana-chan's page and see a rather familiar email address in the stories...

I read them; I won't deny it... And they're good - damn good. But it is rather eerie to see hints of what we do in the privacy of our bedroom appear in his stories. I know that his therapist has suggested writing out his fears. I don't think Larry expected him to write fanfiction based on a child's cartoon, but his stories aren't so much within the universe of Digimon as they have taken up and followed after they've grown into adults. I can see reflections of what happened to him in them.

I admit that my portrayal of Don Quixote got particularly angst ridden and anguished those first performances after we began to move on again. And I played the blues for months... I still do - with a few other guys at a smoky blues hole down the road from the theatre. But it's not something you bounce back from. Not really. Anyone that tells you otherwise is lying. I suppose, honing his writing skills will allow him to write a decent plot for his musical.

I've told him I won't play Yamato though.

"Shigeru?"

"Hai, sorry. I got caught in my thoughts."

He kisses my cheek. "I thought you fell asleep." He sighs. "How about I trust your decorating judgement and you and Hiroshi go buy furniture for my studio? I bet I can arrange things so a twin size bed will fit, and I just haven't had time to do it myself. Now that you're retired..." He trails off and yawns.

"I'm not retired. I just want to concentrate on other things. More important things."

He props himself up on his elbow. "Like?"

I pull him down and kiss him again. "You."

I love him this time, and as he lies sleepily sated in my arms, Hiroshi's haunted eyes return to me. Perhaps I have played the mad knight for too long... But I want to save him. To heal this last remnant of Takeshi's brutal insanity. When sleep finally comes, it brings odd nightmares of theatre contracts, furniture purchases and a large black man telling me that my contract violates his civil rights...

I shuffle out of bed at about noon. Actually, Pikachu makes me get up. I think Satoshi told her to do so. At least it gives me a chance... I pull on my robe as I hear a knock at the front door. I dash down the hall and around the stairs. It's Hiroshi, and he's early.

"Sorry," he says as I usher him into the church. "Housekeeping needed to clean the room, and I wandered for a while, but I didn't know where else to go. My usual haunt has been taken from me."

He glances around nervously. He seems surprised that I haven't made a fuss about him showing up early. "So this was all right?" he asks. Yes, I was right. "I should have called... I could have got your number from Natsume..."

He pauses, and looks around again. Satoshi... "I guess he's not here..." His words blend relief with regret.

I shake my head no. "He's at the studio doing session work for an album for some friends of mine." I yawn and stretch. "Have you eaten yet?" I ask, leading the way back to the kitchen.

He follows after meekly. "No, I haven't. I was too nervous..." He sounds as if he's going to finish that, but it's not an audible finish. To keep anything down... "I don't know if I'm really hungry, but I could try..." he murmurs.

I turn quickly and then back away. Almost forgot... I'm a tactile person. Satoshi calls me 'touchy feely.' It's hard to remember to keep that distance between us. "Gomen," I say, retreating further into the kitchen. "I won't have you passing out on me. I can only handle one set of crisis... er... what is the plural of crisis?" I shrug and rummage through the cupboards. I've woken with a strange yen for pasta. I so rarely rise before noon that breakfast is whatever I eat before I collapse into sleep. Usually, it's Satoshi...

"Anyway... I'm going to make pasta in a box. If you want some, there's enough for two. Satoshi bitches at me about eating this stuff, but frankly, I'm not the gourmet snob he's become."

"Well..." he pauses. "Thanks... I'd like to try." He takes a seat at the counter, leaning his elbows on it to prop his chin up. "Thanks..." he adds again.

"Crises."

"Bless you - oh, wait, sorry. Understood." I shake my head and turn to the coffee maker after I get water on to boil for the pasta. "I'm not awake. I think the sun was rising before I actually got to sleep. Sat - er... never mind. TMI." I laugh and work on making coffee. "Need caffeine," I mutter, trying to get him to smile.

I think it may be working, because the ghost of a smile lingers on his lips. It doesn't touch his eyes, though. "Me too, I think... I don't think I'd mind it."

It takes me three tries to get the stupid cover on the grinder. Oh lord, please let me be up to this today. "How's your eye for colour?" I ask over the noise of the grinding beans. I explain the problem with our guestroom. "I figured we could go over to that Amish furniture store and get something that... What?"

"I don't want you to spend money on me," he mutters, staring down at the white and grey marble countertop.

I realise a compromise is in order. Cheap furniture... oh glah, that means Wal-Mart, the bane of my existence. I get swamped by annoying fans whenever I go there - they sponsored the last season and... I sigh. "We need to get something for in that room anyway. I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor. And Windie pretty much rules the living room after we go to bed."

"But..." he flounders about to finish that sentence. "I don't want to impose, Shigeru. I - I... I don't want to be a bother. I..." He swallows and loses his resolve. "I don't want you to go all out for me, please."

"Let me put it this way," I say, dumping the noodles in the boiling water with the happy seasoning packet. "I hate shopping alone. You coming with me and talking me out of spending potentially hundreds of dollars is a good thing. It's helpful and useful and it will keep Satoshi from glowering at me for the next month when he does the bank statement. Don't get me wrong - I can well afford it. But Satoshi's not used to being able to spend that kind of money and not have to skip eating lunch for a year to pay for it. So... you can keep me in line."

I get two cups of coffee from the nearly done pot. I know he takes sugar and cream without asking. Sometimes I just can't turn it down enough to not pick up surface thoughts. Not when I'm not awake, and not when... when I want him to open up to me anyway.

"Thanks," he mutters, holding onto the cup after I hand it to him. He grins slightly. "I won't ask how you know, I'll just accept that you do..." He looks down into the murky surface of the coffee before speaking again.

"If I can help you... Then it's okay." He takes a deep breath. "I want to help. I just don't know what to do." And I know he's not talking about the furniture. "I've been in therapy for so long, and it just doesn't feel like it's accomplishing anything. I mean it is... but..."

"It wasn't an overnight thing," I murmur as I stir the noodles. "Satoshi's coming to terms with it. It was small steps - sometimes more backward than forward. No one expects you to talk to him and then have instant recovery, Hiroshi. You've been in limbo for so long... Waiting. It's time to start swimming for land instead of drowning, Hiroshi. But first you have to learn how to swim." I serve up two plates and then bring them over to the counter. I stay on the opposite side from him as I hand him a fork... Ye-ouch! Oh fuck!

I blink and realise that I'm looking up at the ceiling. I don't remember falling off the barstool. "Fork," I mutter. "Note to self - put fork down, let Hiroshi pick up fork. Metal conducts. Do not touch fork at same time."

He's looking down at me, as if remembering that he can't help me, because that would bring us into actual touch. "Are you all right?" he asks softly. "I wish I could help you... but I can't... I'm sorry..."

"Don't worry... I'm okay. Just... let me..." I close my eyes and shake off the last of that shock, which is all it was. I got a vague impression of pain, but he radiates that anyway. "You know what?"

"What?"

"We'll need to wash the floor when we get back," I murmur thoughtfully. I get up from the floor and dust myself off. "That didn't hurt as much as I think it looked like it did." I pause to make sure that made sense. Yeah, it did. I right my stool and sit down again, now I'm hungry. I eat as Hiroshi meekly gets back on his stool and picks at the garlic Alfredo noodles.

Conversation dies as I eat quickly. I put my dishes in the sink and show Hiroshi my library where the TV is. "I'll be down as soon as I'm cleaned up and dressed."

When I come down, he's looking at the picture of me and Satoshi in tuxedos from the opening night gala last season. "You were there," I realise.

He smiles. "I almost approached you then, but Satoshi seemed so unstable yet."

"He was better, but not quite happy with his progress." It was bad then... I had to devote so much time at the theatre... "Ready to go shopping?"

He sighs, it's not a sad sound, but he sighs and sets the picture back in its place. "I think I am Shigeru," he murmurs. He's still smiling. Maybe there's a chance I can reach him... But he's not sure. "Where are we off to, anyway?"

"So what did you get again?" Satoshi asks, snuggling against me where we sit on the stairs.

"A sleigh bed - twin size, a dresser and a desk. There should be plenty of room for your stuff. It's all in a very nice maple finish," I say kissing his temple. Hiroshi shakes his head and sighs from where he sits in the living room. "Hiroshi kept me from spending too much," I add, grinning at Hiroshi.

"Has anyone ever told you that you two are like an old married couple?" he asks.

"Kasumi does all the time," Satoshi murmurs. "Not like that's not pot calling the kettle black or anything. I mean..."

"They're coming," I say, standing up and moving to the doors.

"I hate it when he does that," Satoshi mutters.

"Try living around Natsume - she's a thousand times worse," Hiroshi returns. "It's like living with Spiderman."

They laugh at my expense as I open the doors for the deliverymen. About three hours later, everything is set up in Hiroshi's new room. I collapse tiredly on the bed and stare at them. "Now what?"

Hiroshi's eyes darken. "Perhaps I should let you two..."

Satoshi's thoughts send shivers of panic running down my spine... Dammit... "What do you want me to do?" I ask. "Play mediator? Hear everything Hiroshi has to say about what's happened and then tell you as I think you can handle it?"

Tears glisten in their eyes. Oh fuck me running. I get up from the bed and leave the room before their emotions overwhelm me. "Shigeru!" Satoshi calls after me. I seek the only solace I have here... my guitar.

I slip the headphones on even as Satoshi comes pounding down the stairs. I... I misjudged, I think as I turn everything on and settle into the chair. It's... It's me that's not strong enough...

I close my eyes and begin to play. I don't stop even when he unplugs the headphones from the amp and takes them off my ears. "Shigeru."

I simply turn the volume up on the guitar until I can't hear him. I can't... I'm sorry Satoshi... The sound of my own rendition of the solo from Dream Theater's Lines in the Sand fills the church and spills out into the streets through the open windows. It's... heart wrenching, which is how I feel. I don't want to think, I don't want to feel... but it's damn near impossible to find peace of mind when you can read everyone's surface thoughts.

"Shigeru!"

My guitar cries as Hiroshi's thoughts stab through me... "Oh god..." Tears start running down my face.

I... it's like I'm on auto-pilot... all I can do is make my fingers move across the strings.

The guitar whines as my fingers tear through the ripping solo and the volume increases. My heart is pounding, I feel faint and I can't... can't stop playing...

"Satoshi?" I hear Hiroshi's voice over my music.

Satoshi's mind screams as Hiroshi's hand touches him and suddenly pain flares through my hand as my E string snaps, the metal string gouging deeply into my palm.

"Shigeru!" I hear Satoshi shriek in the abrupt silence. I look down at the blood and then up at them. "I'm sorry..."

Satoshi herds me into the bathroom and tries to stop the bleeding. "Satoshi - you have to help Hiroshi. Please."

His dark eyes are haunted, but he turns and goes, leaving me with my mess. I think I'm going to need stitches. Dammit, can't I manage to stay out of the hospital just once? The pain does distract me from their conversation, which is nice. I don't like knowing everything. I don't want to be a censor; I don't want to be part of it. I just want everyone to be able to go on with their lives. I sit on the closed lid of the commode and look at my hand. I wonder...

I summon my Fudin and it looks alarmed at the blood. "Recover," I request. "Fudin!" it announces and it casts its healing 'attack' at me. It worked!

"Thank you," I tell it before sending it back to its Pokéball. Okay, so the powers have their uses. However, I can also sense that Hiroshi and Satoshi are making progress... I don't want to interrupt... I slip into the kitchen and busy myself washing dishes as quietly as I can, doing my best to block them out.

Eventually, the kitchen is clean and the floor is washed... There's nothing left to do. Pikachu hops into the kitchen and wipes out on the still wet floor.

*:Gomen, Pikachu,:* I project softly.

She sends a happy smiling thought at me. All's forgiven. Then she projects her tummy rumbling. Ah, she's hungry. I set out a bowl of fresh Pikachu kibble and then set out some food for Windie... and then I realise... doesn't Hiroshi have a Pikachu?

Before I can really dwell on it, my cell phone rings. You'd think I'd be smart enough to turn it off when I'm at home. I wander out to the back porch so my voice doesn't disturb Hiroshi and Satoshi. Their feelings indicate they're talking, but I don't want to know about what.

"Ookido Shigeru," I say, even as I have a fleeting impression of who is on the other end.

"Oh thank *god* I got a hold of you, Shigeru," a female voice says. Relief floods over me. It takes me a few seconds to recognise her voice as my fellow assistant director for the summer stock program that the Yamabuki Theatre is putting on this season.

"Vi-chan, what's wrong?"

"*Everything!*" she sighs into the phone. "Ori-san broke his hip. He's out of the entire project."

I pause, if the director is out... oh god... That means *I'm* the director. "I can't," I whisper, trying to keep my thoughts from projecting. "I can't give that much time to the projects, I'm sorry, Vi-chan."

She's crying now. "I'm not experienced enough to take on the whole thing," she sobs. "It's you or no one, Shigeru."

I have a sudden inspiration. Hiroshi seemed interested in the theatre... If I could get him to help me... "I have to think about it, all right, Vi? When I have an answer, I'll call you. Just give me a few days."

She's so grateful that I'll consider it that she fawns all over the phone. Now all I have to do is see if Hiroshi wants to help. I turn off the phone after she gushes goodbye. It's a nice beginning to the evening, I realise as I sit and enjoy the sunset.

"Geru-chan?" Satoshi says softly.

I pat the half wall next to me. "Hai love," I reply as he sits.

"Are you okay?"

I pull him close and kiss him soundly, opening my mind and my heart to him. *:What do you think?:*

*:Vinoku called?:* he replies in kind.

"Yes, she did." I think he already knows why so I don't explain. When I let my mind touch his he can read my surface thoughts.

"Are you going to do it?"

I shrug. "I'd rather not be that unavailable to you."

"But if you ask and he does then you wouldn't be so unavailable. And you'd be there while I'm gone at the studio," Satoshi murmurs.

"Are you all right with that?" I ask.

He kisses me. "I know where you sleep at night."

"You know, if you really want them to listen to you, perhaps you shouldn't scowl so horribly at them," Hiroshi murmurs to me. I sigh and plaster my "I hate this and I hate you for suggesting it" smile on my face.

"That's better," Hiroshi says, handing me my clipboard with the well-marked script.

If he only knew I was doing this for his benefit... Truly I would have said no to the entire project, no matter how dependent on me they were. But to give Hiroshi some purpose... I sigh. Before I can say anything, the actor playing Romeo comes over to where we stand. "Hiroshi-san, could you help me with my lines?"

You don't have to be a psychic to know that Hiroshi's interested in Misha. You don't have to be a psychic to know that Misha's interested in Hiroshi either.

Hiroshi smiles at me. "You need me here?"

I shake my head. "Go help him. God knows he needs the help."

In the meantime, I turn my attention to the rest of my cast. I honestly think they all take a step back like I'm some sort of ogre. I'm projecting... dammit. I close my eyes, redouble my mental shields and they relax visibly.

Right now, I'm most concerned with them learning their lines. "From the top gentlemen! Sampson, Gregory, on stage. Abraham, Balthasar and Benvolio, in the wings. Sampson, from the 'Gregory on my word, we'll not carry coals'."

Gregory and Sampson come on stage, "Gregory," Sampson says with a bit more emotion than I had when I gave him the starting point. "On my word, we'll not carry coals."

It is nearly three hours later when I bother to look at my watch.

"Cut!" I yell as Hiroshi hands me the script again. I'm familiar with the play, but straight theatre is *so* not my speciality. "Romeo, Juliet - come here."

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. "Good gods people, you are in love!" I say, gesturing dramatically. "Good Shakespeare-san meant this to be the exultation of love. And you are treating it like it is being read off a cereal box."

Juliet blushes and Romeo frowns. "Let me demonstrate. Balcony scene. Ne, Hiroshi - mark Juliet for me?" Hiroshi flips open his own script to the infamous scene. Okay, even Hiroshi can read Juliet with more conviction than our actress.

"He jests at scars that never felt a wound," I say angrily as Romeo would - should... Then awe-struck as the beautiful Juliet appears on the balcony. Hiroshi looks oblivious as he stands within the marked out area for the balcony.

"But soft," I whisper dramatically. "What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!" I emote, gazing adoringly at my Juliet. "Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief..."

Hiroshi manages to make Juliet's line whisper soft yet clearly audible. The man was born to be on the stage, I tell you. I continue with the next part of Romeo's speech and then Hiroshi completes the entrance of the scene with the famous, "O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, but be sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

A smattering of applause meets my ears as Hiroshi finishes the soliloquy. I turn and stare out into the empty audience... "Satoshi?"

I see motion in the darkness and I bound off the stage over to my lover's waiting arms. "Please don't tell me you've cast Hiroshi as Juliet," he says, kissing me.

I laugh and hug him tightly. "Iie, he wouldn't let me. No, we're just proving that Shakespeare can have emotion." I sigh. "Remember my Dulcinea - they make her look full of life!" I exclaim in the general direction of the stage. My actors have the decency to look abashed.

He wraps his arm around mine as we approach the stage. "All right everyone, remember - extra long rehearsal tomorrow. *Please* attempt to put more emotion into this! It is a *tragedy* of star crossed lovers. *Not* a reading by Ben Stein! Dismissed!"

"Extra long practice?" Satoshi murmurs softly as my actors being to shuffle off stage. Hiroshi gathers props and such and begins to put them away.

"I'm sorry, Satoshi... The show is in a month and they're still using scripts." I'm so frustrated with them all. The level of professionalism on this project is nil. Satoshi makes me sit down on the stage stairs and then sits behind me, rubbing my shoulders. I melt under his ministrations.

"I'll see you guys at the church," Hiroshi says. I don't really pay attention; Satoshi and I have had so little time together lately. No, it's not entirely Hiroshi's fault. It is these... imbecilic underrated irresponsible excuses for summer stock players I have working for me. To think they are getting paid for such lacklustre performances when I would have killed to be an extra...

"You're tensing up again," Satoshi murmurs, kissing my ear. "Maybe we need to go home and relax a little before Hiroshi gets there."

We don't even manage to get that far. Frantic kisses lead to the couch in the office they've given me at the theatre and I know I'll be sore later - but I don't care now. It's weird though... I could swear I felt a tinge of jealousy from Satoshi as he made me his...

"Are you always this bad opening night?" Hiroshi asks me with an actual smile. I would find it more amusing if I wasn't vomiting in my trashcan. It's not all my nerves, I'm glad to say. Mostly, it's my Juliet who is likewise, puking in her dressing room. I manage to stand and take the towel and the glass of water he's offering. I rinse my mouth and wipe my face. "You should see me when I'm actually performing," I retort.

"Oh yes, can you say 'projectile vomit'?" Satoshi interjects from my office door.

I scowl at him and then smile. "It was only my first time here in Yamabuki. I haven't done that in ages."

"Oh, no, you just did it opening night of your last run of Man of La Mancha," Satoshi says, giggling. For that, I kiss him soundly even as he makes 'gack'ing noises over the vomit taste in my mouth.

"Ookido Shigeru, you're disgusting," Satoshi says, pretending to be put out as he wipes at his mouth.

*:Considering where I have put my mouth on you, my dear koi...:* I deliberately let my thoughts trail off, but Satoshi turns crimson. "Come along, Hiroshi - we have a show to put on. See you in the audience, Sato-chan."

I don't have to be behind stage anymore, really, for these things. I have done my job, I have taught them how to put on this show, and that is truly my function. The rest of the stress is now firmly on Vinoku's slim shoulders as she is the stage manager. Hiroshi and I stand in the wings and watch the opening act.

He smiles up at me and as the organised chaos of the first scene dances over the audience. "Going to come to the cast party?" I ask him softly. He nods, his eyes firmly on Romeo as he makes his entrance, all melancholy and bewitched.

Romeo glances to the wings and his eyes unerringly find Hiroshi. They are dating; they have been for nearly the entire practice run. Romeo has gotten much better with Hiroshi's tutelage. I'm impressed with both of them. Hiroshi especially.

I have a killer migraine by the time the show is over and the cast party has begun. I know I need to go home. I simply cannot deal with this much euphoria by the cast. I find Satoshi and tell him I need to leave. He finds Hiroshi and Hiroshi assures him he'll find his own way home. Most likely, Misha will give him a ride. We have been told not to worry if he doesn't come home until morning though.

Satoshi practically has to guide me down the stairs and to the car. I'm hardly conscious of the ride home, but shortly after he gets me into the church, my headache beings to fade. We sit on the couch, in the near dark and I sigh.

"It went off without a hitch," I murmur, surprise in my voice.

"The extra long practices were worth it then, ne?" Satoshi sounds... worried. I turn and look at him. "Sato-chan?"

He glances down and a single tear ghosts down his cheek. "Satoshi, what's wrong?"

"I..." He gazes up at me and then crumbles into my embrace, tears flowing freely. He tries to speak, but his tears obscure his words. "Look," he whispers. "Just look..."

I pull him close and touch my forehead to his, lowering the heavy shields I had up to keep myself sane during opening night. They fall away slowly, like ice melting and when they finally dissolve, I can feel Satoshi's fear of Hiroshi.

*:Sato-chan?:*

A flurry of images swamps me, drenched in emotion. Fear, envy, worry, concern, love, jealousy... Mostly fear. He was afraid I would cheat on him with Hiroshi... Keeping my mind joined to his, I kiss him softly. *:There is only one who fills my heart, and it is you and only you.:* I whisper to him.

He throws moments that were innocent, completely innocent at me. I answer each and every one with honesty he can feel. "I do not love Hiroshi, I love you," I murmur aloud. "Satoshi, unlike Takeshi I know who I am making love to."

He tenses in my arms and tries to pull away. "That's your real fear, isn't it?" I demand.

Satoshi trembles and then meets my unwavering gaze. "Yes," he confesses in a harsh whisper.

I pull him close. "Oh Satoshi. I won't deny that you and Hiroshi share certain endearing character traits, but I love you for you. Those things that you possess that he does not. I will never forsake you, Sato-chan. Never."

"I love you," he whispers. He gets to his feet and pulls me to mine. "I want you," he murmurs, kissing my palms. We retire to our bedroom where he makes sweet, tender love to me. I surrender fully to him, keeping that fragile contact between our minds open as he brings me to completion.

We sleep in each other's arms. At about four a.m., I hear the front door open and shut, and the sounds of Hiroshi in his bathroom. I do a brief surface sweep of his thoughts and hear he is mostly exhausted, so I do not go ask him how the cast party went.

"Shigeru-san! Shigeru-san!" Oh gods, now what? The image of the actress playing Juliet smears like oil paint and blurs into something unrecognisable. Red paint splashes over the scene in long narrow bands and my stomach churns. And then everything starts shaking.

"Shigeru! Wake up!"

I come awake with a start, staring at Satoshi in horror. I've had these dreams for months now - since... Oh lord, how could I have been so stupid!

"Call Natsume, now!" I tell Satoshi as I grab my robe and run for the guestroom. The door is locked, but I'm not above breaking it down. My shoulder screams in agony, but what I see there is even worse. Hiroshi is lying on the bed, his arms covered in long thin cuts. He's unconscious and there's one particularly deep gash still bleeding over his wrist. I grab the blanket and apply pressure. "Call an ambulance too, Satoshi!" I yell.

I can hear Satoshi giving our address to the 911 operator as Natsume teleports in behind me. "Did you know he did this?" I demand, as the blanket bleeds through crimson.

"He promised," she whispers. She sits on the bed and puts his head in her lap. "Hiro-kun, you promised." Quiet tears glisten in her deep blue eyes and then fall down her cheeks. "You promised."

I had a co-star that did this - this cutting. Where whatever psychological needs that feels missing drives them to self-mutilation. She cut herself because she didn't feel she was worthy of what she had. All her life she hadn't had to work for anything - it all came by grace of her birthright or through her talent and she couldn't handle it. She killed herself the night our show closed.

The reason for Hiroshi's actions simmers in the air so thick that even a non-telepath could pick it up. Self-loathing, guilt... they're tangible. I don't understand. He and Satoshi seemed to be doing so well... He had been dating Misha... everything seemed...

It's a whirlwind rush as the paramedics arrive and whisk Natsume and Hiroshi off to the hospital. She knows his vitals - we don't. Satoshi comes and sits down next to me on the bloodied bed.

How could we not have seen this?

How could *I* not have seen this?

Satoshi puts his arms around me and we cry for what we didn't see...

My hands shake as I reach for the phone and dial Misha's number. "What did you say to Hiroshi?" I ask after his sleepy hello.

After a few minutes of protest and confusion, he comes awake. "He broke up with me," Misha replies. "He wouldn't explain it, just said he couldn't be with me anymore."

I feel cold. There is more than he is saying; I can sense it. "Hiroshi tried to kill himself tonight," I whisper. The phone slips from my fingers. I can hear him yelling my name... "Shigeru-san! Shigeru-san!"

Satoshi picks up the phone and calms Misha as I sort through what I felt from him. He rejected Hiroshi, subtly, but just the same he did. And Hiroshi couldn't take that, not in his fragile condition. Misha blames himself for this suicide attempt. The sound of Satoshi hanging the phone up snaps me out of my trance.

"We need to..."

Satoshi looks at me with tear stained cheeks. "We need to what?"

I kiss his cheek softly. "I need to think," I tell him, hoping that he understands me.

He smiles weakly. "I'm going to shower," he replies. He does understand. We're bloody. I have to do this while I can concentrate though. "Save some hot water for me," I murmur. He kisses my cheek and leaves me alone in Hiroshi's room.

I stand and gently open myself to the room. The essence of Hiroshi creeps out of hiding and I begin to comprehend what drove him to this self-mutilation.

He is unworthy...

He does not deserve Misha, or me or Satoshi... us... or our friendship... or his life... He does not deserve...

Oh god, if only you knew how wrong you are Hiroshi...

It's almost two weeks later before Hiroshi is out of critical care - it wasn't that he was that badly hurt - though he had lost a great deal of blood. It was the fact he was on a suicide watch, to insure he didn't try to take his life again. During this time I have had several rather insightful conversations with Natsume and Hiroshi's therapist.

I'm not sure why he thought this was something just talking to Satoshi would fix. There's no way to "fix" this. Yes, it helped Satoshi that I was here for him, but most of Satoshi's cure came through Satoshi's hard work. The more I examine everything thing with retrospect and hindsight, the more I cannot believe that Hiroshi simply thought talking to Satoshi would solve everything.

Even I had my own healing to do after Takeshi's attacks, and while I never sought professional help for them... There's something more going on here - as if Hiroshi had decided to give up long before, and he had placed all his hopes on Satoshi - rather unfairly in my opinion.

"What are you doing?" Satoshi asks me, interrupting my thoughts. I'm back in Hiroshi's room, lying in the middle of the floor, staring at the ceiling. Don't ask me why, but it's easiest to sort my confused thoughts out in here. Perhaps because Hiroshi spent so much time here that it retains an essence of him. Satoshi joins me on the floor, snuggling against me. His body heat is welcome against the cool atmosphere in here.

"I don't think Hiroshi ever planned to 'get better', Satoshi," I murmur. "I think he just wanted to make sure you were all right. And then he..."

"He was going to end his life," Satoshi whispers.

"Exactly."

Satoshi is quiet for some time. "He thinks he has no reason to live."

"We have to give him one," I say.

I feel Satoshi shake his head. "No, he has to find one on his own. We have no right to even think we can give him one." Satoshi gets up, drops a kiss on my forehead and leaves the room.

My beloved is entirely correct. After all, I tried to give Hiroshi a reason, a purpose - and all it did was delay the inevitable as far as he was concerned. He just staved off his own self-destruction until after he felt he wasn't useful any longer. I close my eyes and ghost my fingertips over the floorboards. There are minute traces of blood embedded in the wood grain that we will have to sand out and refinish. For now, they serve my purpose.

I concentrate and try to find the innocence Hiroshi lost thanks to Takeshi. Try to find something he can believe in, something he knows is true. Anything to offer that one spark, that one reason for him to go on. A smile quirks on my lips.

I know how to save him. If he wants to be saved... That is my last conscious thought until Satoshi drags me bodily from the room. "Are you done communing with the floorboards?"

"I think so." I get to my feet unsteadily. Satoshi pretty much manhandles me into the bathroom where he makes me take a hot shower. I'm freezing. The shower leads to more... It is past visitor's hours at the hospital by the time our play takes us out of our bedroom.

Dinner is eaten in relative silence, but Satoshi's thoughts are a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. He's jealous that I have taken it upon myself to help Hiroshi; he's still afraid that I will leave him for Hiroshi - worse, he is afraid that I have been having an affair with Hiroshi and that's the reason I'm going through so much trouble... There is little that I can say to reassure him.

He retreats to the den after we eat and I do the dishes quietly. I hear the television for a while, and then I hear him move to the piano. The phone rings just as I dry the last bit of silverware. "Ookido Shigeru," I answer.

"Shigeru-san, I don't know if you remember me."

It does take me a few seconds to place the voice... "Nisemono Imite?"

"Oo!" she squeals happily. "You *do* remember me! I've been over in Johto on a one woman show tour, and I just heard about your retirement, please oh *please* tell me it's not true!"

I stutter through a rather inarticulate reply that confirms I had stepped off the professional stage. Imite goes into the most pathetic wail. "No, no, no, no!" she moans at me like some sort of prima donna - which she is, really... Nisemono Imite is one of the world's premiere sopranos.

"I'm sorry," I manage to interject into her theatrics.

"You don't understand, oh lord... It's in my contract you see, that I play Dulcinea for the Yamabuki run next season, and I was under the impression you were still under contract to play Don Quixote."

"I am," I admit. "But I've been given a compensation and my understudy has been - " She interrupts me with a sob and a rather impressive high wail.

"Oh god no, it *has* to be you!"

"I would have to talk it over with my lover," I murmur, realising that I am slowly changing my mind about playing next season.

She squeals happily and then gives me her number and her agent's number and could I please give her a call if I do decide to take the season, thank you kindly. I'm rather bewildered when I hang up the phone and Satoshi is standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Who was it?"

"Possibly the only person who could drag me back to the stage," I murmur thoughtfully. "Besides you, Sato-koi."

To my surprise Satoshi looks pleased. "Are you telling me that was Nisemono Imite?"

I nod and he squeaks happily before glomping me against the counter. "Oh Shigeru, you *have* to go back. I saw her in Hello, Dolly last time she was in it, oh she's perfect! Shigeru, please, please, will you go back?"

"Now how do I say no to that?" I say, mentally making a list of everyone I need to contact regarding my return. Wow, I didn't even sit out an entire season... The irony is not lost on me... "Let me call the director and see if he will let me back."

The director, the producer - all of them are so glad to have me back it's not funny. I called my understudy to insure he was all right with my return and I discover that his wife is pregnant and has been confined to her bed. He was about to drop out of next season so he could stay at home with his other children.

The luck in all this does not escape me. I just wasn't meant to step off the stage yet, I guess. So now I sit in my favourite chair, my guitar on my lap. Satoshi sits on the floor in front of me, his back against my knees. I'm playing random stuff - noodling it's called. My fingers still on the strings as I close my eyes. "I have one thing I must do, I think, before I can go to practice on Monday."

Satoshi turns and looks at me. "What?"

"I have to see Hiroshi."

"Shigeru, there's nothing we can do for him."

"Perhaps, but for my own peace of mind, I need to see him."

Satoshi stands and takes my guitar from me. He climbs in my lap and kisses me soundly. One thing leads to another and he gives himself to me in the chair. It's different, not the fact we did it in the chair - but the emotions behind it. It reminds me of how we were before Hiroshi approached me at closing night those months ago. We have our own healing to do, I think...

A pounding at the church doors pulls me from my slumber on Monday morning. I stumble out of bed and down the stairs to find the teal-haired diva standing in a Chanel suit on my porch. "Imite-san?" I ask, rubbing bleary eyes.

"Oh goody, you're awake!" she gushes, pushing her way into my home.

"Barely," I admit following after her. Pikachu comes dashing down the stairs at breakneck speed and jumps into Imite's arms. She obviously recognises the woman. I have the sneaking suspicion that Satoshi has set me up very nicely.

She turns and looks at me with a smile. "Didn't your agent tell you we had a publicity shoot today before rehearsal?" she asks.

I blink at her in confusion. "Publicity shoot?" I echo. "We haven't even had a cast meeting, Imite. I have plans for today."

"Oh... I'll just tag along until the shoot then." I know when I've been manipulated. I stalk into the kitchen to start coffee only to find the timer has been set and a pot is already brewing. "All right," I demand, backing Imite into a chair. "What the hell have you and Satoshi planned behind my back?"

She attempts to be coy, but I have perfected my glower on my cheerleaders. "Satoshi just asked me to come by a little early and keep you out of trouble."

If I didn't know Satoshi as well as I do, I'd be worried at how well he knows Imite - but then he collects dear friends like I collected Pokémon. "Keep me out of trouble?" I ask.

"You know, you have the most endearing habit of repeating the last few words of a sentence and turning them back at the other person in the form of a question," she points out needlessly. I know that I do it; I picked the habit up from my grandfather.

I smile ingratiatingly. "Please, make yourself at home. I'm going to go shower and get dressed. Then we will go to the hospital and you can observe me talking to Hiroshi. Then we can hit the theatre, get changed for the shoot and do that, all right with you?"

She beams her Tony award winning smile at me. I scowl and head off upstairs; Pikachu follows behind me. I get into the bedroom and pick up the phone, calling Satoshi at the studio. "I didn't know I needed a babysitter," I say as soon as he answers.

"Geru-chan - " he starts.

"Don't you *dare* Geru-chan me, Satoshi. You deliberately set me up. Did you call her in Johto and ask her to pull me back on stage too?" I'm furious and I'm barely controlling it. I feel so fucking betrayed...

"Shigeru..." He sighs softly into the phone.

"You know, just forget it. Fine. You don't think you can trust me. That's just great. I'll see you when I get home tonight." And I hang up on him, and turn off the phone. Then I flop on the bed and I cry... Pikachu pats me on the cheek as I try to control it. I hurt so damn bad... my chest is just a raw ache...

I can't remember the last time I felt so alone...

But I'm an actor, so I pull myself together, manage to make myself shower and dress and then force all my conflicting emotions down in a tiny little ball and hide them behind my façade. I think Natsume is the only one who could tell I'm not as 'fine' as I look. Well... and Satoshi...

I actually whistle happily as I walk down the stairs and walk to the kitchen. Imite glowers at me, but she's just too cute to really pull it off convincingly. Her surface thoughts tell me that Satoshi called back while I was in the shower and she answered. "You really are an asshole, aren't you?" she demands as I help myself to coffee.

"So I've been told," I remark coldly.

"He cares about you."

"I know. But he doesn't trust me." The lack of emotion in my voice would be frightening if I didn't know how much I was fighting to keep it that way.

Her hazel eyes stare at me accusingly. "He loves you."

"I know. But he doesn’t trust me. And I've not done anything to even give him reason not to," I retort. I put my half finished coffee cup in the sink and turn to her. "I don't love Hiroshi, I've never loved Hiroshi; I only care what happens to him because he nearly committed suicide in my damn house. If Satoshi can't see that, then I don't know what else I can do. Now, if you're going to come along, then come on."

No, it's not very fair of me to take my mood out on Imite, but well, she's here and Satoshi's not. To be honest, I don't even know if I want to come home. I throw my stuff into my theatre bag and Imite struggles to keep up with me in her heels. I'm too much of a gentleman not to hold the door for her, or open the door to the car for her, but I am enough of an ass to turn the music on the radio up to 'conversation is not welcome' level.

Her daintily manicured fingers turn the volume down even as I scowl. "Have you even given a thought as to why Satoshi's worried about you?"

I stop for a red light and glare at her.

"You're a telepath. You see what others are feeling. It's not you he doesn't trust, Shigeru. It's Hiroshi."

I scoff as I make the car resume forward movement.

"Think about it. Would Satoshi even have gotten free from Takeshi if it weren't for you?"

She's pretty damn practical for a prima donna. I pull into the hospital parking lot and find a place to park. I can't concentrate and drive at the same time. I think through... I pull my notepad and a pencil out of my theatre bag. I jot out a quick note and then fold it twice. "Will you go take this to Mikagami Hiroshi's room?"

She smiles and gets out of the car. I lean back in my seat and run my fingers over my cell phone, thinking about what I said to Hiroshi.

Rather reluctantly, I call Satoshi at the studio. "I'm sorry," are the first words either of us says. And we both know that's enough...

"I love you, Satoshi," I whisper.

"I love you too, Shigeru," he replies and then he has to hang up the phone as he's called away to sit in on a session.

Sometimes we sink, and sometimes we swim and sometimes... just sometimes... we can soar...