The phone in the back room rang a couple of times before the head chef’s daughter answered it. Popping her head into the kitchen, she shouted over the popping oil and sizzling food, “You, it’s for you!”

The man looked up from the meal he was preparing, confused. “Who is it?”

“Some guy,” she replied in the well-practiced teenager fashion. She put her ear to the phone as if the man on the other end started talking again. “He says he’s calling from Tokyo and that it’s very important that he talk to you right now.”

You rolled his eyes as he could guess who it was. “Tell him to call me at home.”

The girl bit her lips to suppress a giggle. “He said he already tried you at home – you’re not there.”

“Then tell him to call me some other time – I’m busy,” he snapped, finishing up the last touches on the plate and waving one of the waiters over.

“Again – very important that he talk to you right now.”

You sighed and wiped his hands on his apron before walking over to the back room to take the phone from the other girl. “It won’t be long,” he said, motioning her to tell her father, who was watching them both. Closing the door to the kitchen, he spoke into the phone, “Hello? This is You.”

“You! It’s me.”

The other man rolled his eyes and sighed again. “Dammit, Gaku. This really better be important because I’ve got a job to keep.”

“Not for much longer,” the man on the other end laughed. “Come to Tokyo.”

You’s jaw dropped and it took several minutes for him to really understand the statement. “Tokyo? Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“You really enjoy cooking for other people?” Gackt didn’t sound convinced.

“Yes, actually. I do. I’m doing what I studied for four years to do. Unlike somebody I know.”

“Come to Tokyo, You.” The humor was gone from the other’s voice.

“…why?”

“Because I need you.”

You flopped down into the chair beside the phone. This was going to be a longer conversation that he had originally planned on. “Why do you need me? What’s so pressing that you needed to call me at work? You’re okay, right?” he added, concerned.

“I’m fine. It’s just…” Gackt trailed off, breathed, and took another route. “Do you still play?”

That question caught You off-guard. “Violin? Um…yeah. Sometimes. When I need to relax. Why?”

“Do you still play guitar?”

“…what’s this about Gaku?”

“Come to Tokyo and I’ll explain everything.”

You closed his eyes and rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Okay, fine. Look, I’m not working this weekend. I can come down--”

“Nonono – you have to come tonight.”

“Tonight?” You shook his head, even though he knew the other couldn’t see him. “Not tonight, Gaku. I have to work for the rest of the week. I can’t just up and leave--”

“Yes you can. Just tell your boss that something’s come up--”

“No, Gaku. No.”

“But why?”

“Because I’m risking my job as it is, talking to you when I’m supposed to be making entrées. I don’t want to risk it further.”

“If you don’t risk anything, you risk more.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“You please!” The both stopped and waited for the other to speak. When Gackt couldn’t stand it any more, he continued, softer. “Don’t you remember what it was like? What it felt like? Don’t you miss it, even a little bit?”

You worried his lip between his teeth. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you tonight,” before hanging up the phone.