It was busy on the street, cars going by outnumbered by the flow of people walking along the pavement to their workplace, white-collared and blue-collared workers chasing time as if their life depended on it. In this materialistic world, their life did depend on it, so it was of no wonder that they did not see a redheaded young man perched on top of a balcony of a building, at ease with the cold wind nipping at his body. Actually, the redhead was too high up on a hotel's penthouse that if people were to stop and lift their heads up, they would probably have to squint to see clearly other than the shocking red hair gracing the man's head. That, and a pair of wings resting on his back. So, basically saying, anyone who could see the full form of the redhead on the balcony would panic and rush to the nearest religious establishment. The redheaded angel wouldn't have bothered about any havoc below him, though, for he was too engrossed in watching the sleeping form of a dark-haired young man under the soft sheets of a luxurious double-postered bed.

The sound of flapping wings above him, however, made him turn his attention to his friend who has just alighted beside him with a gentle descent, first touching the cold balcony surface with his toes as if he was a ballerina.

"Hanamichi," the other angel said, pushing his glasses up which has slid down his nose when he flew, "Why did you call me here for?"

The redhead grinned, "Him."

"Who?" Kogure turned to where Hanamichi pointed at. Suddenly, he found it hard to breath when he saw the smooth and lean body not covered by the green sheets of the only bed in the room. The person was not overly muscled as most buff guys were but the six pack the sleeper has showed that he was in top form, as top as the next athelete before him. He was perfect except for the scar on his face but instead of marring the physical picture, it only enhanced his ruggedly handsome feature. Kogure need not know how the young man looked like when he smiled, since the angel could already guess that the young man would've given a grin worthy of the devil's advocate by the gentle upturn at the corner of his lips.

"Kogure."

"H-Huh?" the spectacled angel blinked, shaking his head mentally to concentrate on what Hanamichi was about to say.
"Ah, so does he have to do with why you called me?"

"Well," the redhead replied, winding his arm around Kogure, "Let me tell you a story about him..."

Early in the morning at six thirty, like clockwork, he woke up to the internal alarm in his body. He stretched himself languidly on the sheets before standing up, and at that moment a knock came from his door.

"Come in," called Mitsui, knowing already who it was. In came a man an inch shorter than he was dressed in a butlers uniform.

"Would you like to take a shower or breakfast first, Mitsui-san?" asked the butler in clipped but refined tones.

"I'll take my shower first, this time," Mitsui said after a thought, "And I'll take breakfast in the next room."

"Very well, Mitsui-san."

"He is blessed to be showered with that luxury," murmured Kogure, remembering of other people who has no such time and money to spend to be pampered as the young man who was at that moment stripping his cotton bottoms off before shrugging into his bathrobe. Being one who was used to seeing naked bodies, men and women who were unaware of his presence and those who are like him, Kogure didn't turn his eyes away but reveled in what he decided was one of those healthy male bodies.

"Yeah," agreed Hanamichi, "he's so lucky. He's a star."

"A star?"

"A basketball star. He plays for the Japanese International League and his bosses pamper him since he's the cash-cow."

"So what's so interesting about him?" Kogure asked, turning to the redhead when the mortal disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Kogure nothing to watch but an empty bedroom.

"He's crying," Hanamichi told him, "Inside."

"He is?" Kogure eyebrows raised, "Why?"




**********

All day it has been a whirlwind of activity. There were promotional photo shots to do, sponsors to dine with and television ads to make. Years ago, when he was just a struggling player trying to achieve his best abilities and be recognised, it would have been a dream. Now he was reliving it and he felt lost, spinning in the vortex of fame, spinning by the constant demand for his attention. Everywhere he went, he would be welcomed with awe and admiration. He was their hero, their saviour, their winner. It was natural for him to wonder during any precious moments of peace what would happen when it stops. When he ceases to be their hero, their saviour, their winner. Oh, he could live without their shameless attention. As long as he could keep on playing... However, more than often he wished for something more in his life.

"And the MVP award goes to Mitsui Hisashi!"

It was the second time in three years that he was awarded as MVP of the year. He felt that he ought to be pleased for who else in his team achieved that kind of recognition in a span of three years, but what was more of an acievement was the offer extended to him to join the National Basketball Association in America. His fans and coach were distraught for they knew that being offered to join the acclaimed group was a dream-come-true for any basketball player. They did not know however that if Mitsui left Japan, he would be leaving the only people that understood him - his family and the scant handful of friends who wouldn't have minded if he was still a poor and struggling player trying to make it to the top.
If he goes to America, he would be more alone than he was at that moment.

"He's lonely?" wondered Kogure out loud, turning towards the young man being surrounded by his bevy of admirers. Mitsui seemed to be enjoying the attention but the strain in his smile showed otherwise.
Kogure recognise that look to be one of weariness.

"Yeah," Hanamichi replied, shifting his coat to accomodate the fold of his wings.

"Isn't he lucky, this basketball star? He's got everything!" Mitsui heard a whisper from among the crowds around him. He didn't need to turn to see that they were pointing at him. Mitsui sighed. If he was indeed lucky and that there's nothing missing in his life, then why did he feel so empty inside that his heart wanted to cry?
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to leave the victory party and go home. But first, he needed another drink.

When a waiter passed by him, Mitsui turned to pick a glass of champagne from the silver tray and as he was bringing it up to his lips, his blue eyes met brown ones, so soft and deep that he felt like drowning in them. The brown-haired young man across the room standing beside a redhead, both wearing overstuffed trenchcoats, gave him a look so compassionate that he actually wanted to break down and cry.

Suddenly their locked gaze broke when a group of overdressed party-goers passed the distance between them and when they cleared the way, the spectacled youth was gone. Cleaving his way across the room, Mitsui hurriedly made his way where the young man was standing but he and his redheaded companion were no where to be found, no matter how high and low the player searched.

Mitsui didn't know why but he felt as if was left alone again.



*********

"He needs some comforting," Hanamichi said.

"Hm?" Kogure turned to him in puzzlement.

Hanamichi gave his friend a one-sided grin, "You. Comfort him. Why not?"

"Why me?" Kogure mumbled turning back to look at Mitsui who was sitting in his pent-house in front of the fire-place, nursing his loneliness with a glass of wine.

The redhead shrugged, "I said why not? You're always the nice, gentle, understanding angel among us. Besides, you like him."

Kogure huffed unaffectedly, "Well, of course. I like everyone with a pure soul."

"You know what I mean," Hanamichi rolled his eyes.

Kogure blushed, knowing exactly what his friend meant.

Mitsui felt a draft against the back of his exposed neck, making him turn to see the glass doors of the balcony open and in came the young brown-haired man from the party. The trenchcoat was gone and the youth was now only wearing a pair of light brown shorts that came to only a few inches below his knees. And there was no mistaking the pair of white wings peeking from his back.

As the angel came closer, Mitsui was able to see clearly the features of the beautiful being against the light from the fire. Shakily, Mitsui dropped his glass and stood up to hesitantly touch that fine skin so close to his hungry fingers.

"Am I dead?" whispered Mitsui, his fingers encountering the smooth cheek from the male form.

The angel smiled, "No. I'm just here to comfort you."

"Comfort me?" Mitsui blinked.

"Hai," the spectacled youth smiled, "To say that you are not alone. It is hard at the moment but soon, if you look hard enough, you will find someone - out there."
The smile widened a notch, "Maybe in America where your dream is."

Feeling as shy as a school boy on his first love, Mitsui gently held the arms of the being in front of him and asked, "Maybe I will. But..."

"Hm?"

"But for the time being will you stay with me?"

The brown eyes blinked in surprise, "Stay... with... you?"

"Yeah," grinned Mitsui, gripping the angel's long elegant fingers with more surety, "With me."

"Of course. I will always be with you if you wish. Watching over you."

"Not just watching over me. With me. By my side."

"But I can be by your side..."

"In person," clarified the scarred-face man.

"In person?" Kogure asked, growing more confused.

"Yeah," Mitsui nodded, coming closer and brought his hand which was just now touching the angel's face to trace the slender column of the angel's neck.
"To touch. And feel."

"To touch... and feel...?" asked the angel, suddenly breathless.

"Yeah," murmured the dark-haired man again as he lowered his face to kiss those pink lips, "And to do other things..."

Hanamichi arched an eyebrow at what was happening inside the room where his spectacled-friend has gone into to 'comfort' Mitsui.
"Not the kind of comfort that I had in mind," said the redhead scratching his head, "But it'll do."

With a flutter of wings, the redheaded angel took off, respecting his friend's privacy more so than Mitsui's. Besides, he has a promise with a certain fox-eyed man to keep... although it would be fun to keep the kistune waiting.

After two hours of sinful pleasure, Kogure lay draped on top of Mitsui, the angel's left wing tucked under his side while the other lay covering the two new lovers as it caressed the player's warm body with it's soft feathers, making Mitsui to shiver in delight.

"Say," gasped Mitsui, as the feathers brushed over a sensitive spot on his chest, "Have you been to America?"

"Ano..."

~owari