The city lights were a blur, colored crystals dotting the line of the sky, adorning the soaring buildings. Jiro drove aimlessly, seeing very little, caring about less. He had left the bar approximately an hour ago, and he had driven past Hisashi's house two times now.

He didn't know what to do.

What had happened with Teru was wrong, there was no other way to look at it. It was wrong, but it was Jiro's *fault*, that was worst the part. He had let Teru kiss him, he had kissed back. Just because he was angry at Hisashi.

"I'm sorry, Tono," he whispered to the empty car, biting his lip. "I know we have problems... But - it's not like I want to screw up like this, screw 'us' up..."

< That's it... I have to see him. >

Jiro didn't know what he was going to say. But he couldn't let Hisashi think he was cheating on him, or that it was over...

The thought brought a sting of pain to his heart, and decisively, he changed lanes and turned around, heading back toward Hisashi's house.

Every street lamp, glimmering golden, every meter marked an increase in his anxiety. But he had to see Hisashi. They needed some sort of resolution.

When he pulled up in front of Hisashi's house he could see a few lights on, shining through the downstairs windows. There was one light less than earlier, but Hisashi was clearly home. Jiro had been relieved earlier to find that Hisashi wasn't out, but part of him was suddenly wishing Hisashi was gone. He didn't like confrontations, he didn't look forward to this one, but it was necessary.

He kept repeating this to himself as he walked up to Hisashi's door, and he knocked before he had a chance to turn around.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching after a few moments of silence, echoing and soft. The door opened slowly and Hisashi blinked owlishly into the night.

"Hey Hisa," Jiro greeted quietly.

Hisashi's gaze, upon seeing him, went from wearily curious to flat.

"Can I come in?" the bassist inquired softly.

Hisashi didn't move to let him inside. "What do you want?" he demanded, voice black ice.

Jiro flinched. "Hisashi, I - when you walked in..." He trailed off. < It's not what it looked like, > he had been going to say. Only - that wasn't true. < It was what it looked like... > He bit his lip. Hisashi's glare was hurt and cold.

Jiro tried again. "I didn't know that was going to happen, when I said I'd get a drink with him... I didn't know he'd make a move on me..."

"You certainly weren't resisting," Hisashi sneered, acid dripping from each word.

Jiro dropped his eyes. "No," he whispered. "No, I - I wasn't," he said softly. "But... There's nothing going on between Teru and I..."

More silence. Jiro fidgeted nervously.

"Onegai... Can I - come in?"

Hisashi moved to close the door, but it was half-hearted, not entirely trying to keep Jiro out. The bassist moved swiftly to block it, stopping it with his foot before stepping quickly inside. Hisashi did not try to make him leave, merely turned around and walked toward his kitchen.

"Fucking hypocrite..."

Jiro winced as Hisashi's words struck him. He closed the door, very softly. "Naze...?" he finally answered hesitantly.

Hisashi turned around sharply, eyes flashing. "You wouldn't tell the others because we're 'pop idols', we're both men in the same band and we have a relationship. But you don't have any inhibitions about *kissing* one of them..."

"Please, listen to me, Tono," he implored. "I wasn't thinking..."

"Clearly," Hisashi said harshly. He made as if to turn his back again.

"Dammit," Jiro snapped, voice taut and anguished. "I came here to talk to you about it, okay, Tono? And maybe you're right, I *was* thinking. I was hurt, and angry, and that's why I let him kiss me... Why I kissed him..." He let his
regret, coupled with pain, reflect in his eyes.

Hisashi halted in the act of turning, dark eyes hesitating on Jiro. "I'm sorry, I really am... I know I shouldn't have done that, but... But I came here to apologize..."

"Do you think apologizing will be enough?"

Jiro dropped his eyes. "Maybe not," he murmured. He took a deep breath. "And - and Tono, before - before you say anything else..." He didn't want to say this. But he knew he had to. Dropping his eyes, he continued. "After you left, it -
it didn't stop."

Hisashi was deathly still, Jiro couldn't see him even breathe. His own words seemed to echo. Slowly, Hisashi's eyes raised to him.

Trying to keep his fingers from trembling, Jiro lifted his hand and pulled the side of his collar slowly down. Hisashi's gaze followed his movement, and his eyes flickered wider as they fell on the bruise, it's origins quite clear. Pain lanced through those dark eyes.

"I'm sorry, Tono," Jiro whispered, "I'm sorry... So sorry..."

Hisashi's hands clenched, fingers tight, and he turned away. He stiffly whirled, one hand moving to rest against the wooden frame of the threshold behind him, fingers clenching around it. He didn't speak.

Jiro's heart fluttered, fell. < Oh God... Is this - it? >

Sudden realization washed over him. < I love him, but - I haven't taken this seriously enough... It was a game to me, all along... We pretended in practice, spent evenings together, came to love each other. And - I somehow thought that
would last. >

< But we keep fighting... Drifting apart... And I - I fucking cheated on him, I didn't stop Teru... > A sob tried to well up in his throat as he condemned himself.

Hisashi had not spoken as Jiro's thoughts frantically tumbled over one another.

"I guess... I'll leave now," Jiro whispered. The words were broken and he took one step backward.

< Did I really... screw this up? Is this the end...? >

Another step. His eyes stung.

< I'm sorry, Hisa... >

His hand was on the doorknob.

< Oh, Hisa... Tono... >

"Matte."

Voice: hoarse and uncertain. But Jiro's ears did not deceive him, because Hisashi said again, ever so much stronger this time: "Onegai... Matte."

Jiro froze, and let his hand fall from the doorknob.

"Hisa..." Jiro lifted a hand partially, then his voice trailed off. He didn't know what to say. Relief crashed into his heart, but there was still a strong aura of foreboding, trepidation. Nothing was resolved yet.

Hisashi finally turned to face him, visibly drawing a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was low, but no longer so emotionless. "What do you want from me, Jiro?" he asked softly.

"Nothing," Jiro whispered. "But - I regret what I did. I do. I was stupid, I shouldn't have done that just because I was angry..." He bit his lip.

"I know," Hisashi said softly. "I believe you, Jiro."

< Believing is different than forgiving... >

"But... What happens next?" Hisashi continued. The silence surrounding their words felt oppressive.

Jiro let his eyes drift away, staring blankly at the wall. "I don't know."

"This changes things, but even before you - you and Teru..." Hisashi let that sentence die off uncomfortably. Then: "You know this isn't working."

Jiro released a breathy sigh. "I know, Tono." Breathing in deeply, trying to find courage, he decisively took a step forward, approached Hisashi. The slender man merely watched him with eyes not quite direct, let Jiro's hand close hesitantly but warmly around his.

"This morning... I was just mad, you know. I - I still love you, Tono. I can't see that ever changing..."

Hisashi finally met his gaze directly. "I love you too, Jiro... But is that enough?"

Jiro's eyes were pleading. "It has to be enough," he whispered. "I don't want to - I can't - lose this."

< We're more fragile than I thought... I almost broke us today, and now I know I can't let that happen... >

Hisashi looked away. "But... what is 'this'? I told you this morning, Jiro... I'm not happy. Because - because we just exist at night, and... And I want more."

Jiro bit his lip. He didn't know what to say, what could he say? He didn't know what he wanted, not anymore... And with the way Hisashi was now acting toward him, the reflection in his eyes, Jiro knew Hisashi knew that too.

"I don't know what to tell you, Hisa," he finally said softly. "I - I don't know what to do..."

Hisashi pulled away from him, disengaging their hands. "Kissing Teru certainly didn't help anything," he muttered. But it was not inflammatory, and he didn't give Jiro a chance to respond, although the blonde flinched and opened his mouth. "Listen, Jiro... I can't do this right now. I need to think, relax, so - I'm gonna go shower. You can stay, though, if you want... There's food in my kitchen, and it's getting dark now..."

< At least... At least he didn't ask me to go. It's almost like he wants me to stay, but at the same time doesn't want to be around me... > Words exchanged that morning flashed back to him - 'get out of here' - but he pushed that to the back of his mind. They hadn't meant the things they said, not fully, right?

"Arigatou," he murmured, letting Hisashi pull away. As Hisashi met his gaze for a last moment before turning away Jiro couldn't even offer a small smile. Neither did Hisashi. He merely turned, walked down the hall, and disappeared.

*

The light was violet-black, bruise-blue, and he didn't know where he was. As his eyes slid open a velvet unfamiliarity smothered him.

He was laying on his side, his face partially pressed into something soft and what he knew to be open air at his back. Heart thudding, wondering frantically where he was, he slowly moved, turning his head to try and get a good look
around.

There were some windows, over there. Across that way, a television. A small table with a pile of magazines in the corner...

And a noise. A soft, throaty hum frightfully close to his head.

Jiro blinked when the origin of that noise resolved itself to be a purring cat. Ayu's head popped over the edge of the couch as she put her front paws up on the edge, peering at him with wide, cat-eyes and purring. The bassist released
a huge sigh of relief, finally figuring out he was on the couch in Hisashi's living room.

"Hey, neko-chan," he greeted in a whisper, running a hand through his hair and sitting partially up, his heart ceasing it's panicky flutter.

The cat mewed in response, pleased to see him awake, and leapt up next to him. Jiro had always gotten along well with Ayu...

"Sometimes I think I got along better with you than with him," Jiro told the cat softly, scratching it's ears.

He sighed. There was an awful taste in his mouth, that of falling asleep after eating, and his eyes felt grainy. His sleep had been troubled. He hadn't even intended to fall asleep, but quite obviously it had happened. After Hisashi left him alone to take a long shower, Jiro had picked through his food, eating a few things of interest, but finding himself too upset and worried to really eat. Then he had lain down on the couch, intending to think, think things through, think things over.

Instead he had clearly fallen asleep, and, peering at his watch, he saw it was now two in the morning when he was waking back up, courtesy of Ayu.

< Maybe I was just more tired than I thought, though... This hasn't been the most carefree day, > he thought with dark sarcasm.

He didn't remember what he dreamt, but he knew it had not been pleasant. Instead of images and pictures left over from his slumber he had only ideas, words.

He knew he had lain down to think, but his dreams had taken the place of thought. And even through dreams and their leftover feelings, things were suddenly, painfully clear. Because he realized now it had all been his fault.

There are certain things people won't admit to themselves, for any number of reasons. In Jiro's case he wouldn't let himself see or think deeply about his relationship with Hisashi. In retrospect, it was difficult to decide how he managed to disillusion himself that completely. He knew he loved Hisahi, he *knew* it, but at the same time he knew that he didn't want to make their relationship public. It seems that if he knew so certainly that he loved the other man, then he should know the motives behind his actions.

And on some level he did. But he wouldn't admit them.

The bottom line was that it was about Glay. He wasn't necessarily afraid of telling Teru and Takuro about their relationship for fear of judgment - yes, the idea had made him apprehensive: what if they weren't accepting? - because they were all friends, he was positive any problems between them could be worked out.

He was afraid to tell them because that meant there was the possibility that someone *else* might find out, and before anyone could stop it the secret would be out and the ramifications on Glay could be devastating.

And then there was just the sheer commitment of the relationship. Making something like their relationship public made it that much more *real*, and then they weren't just Tono and Jiro, happy and in love, but Hisahi and Jiro from Glay, band members dating and sleeping with each other. If something went wrong between them, if they broke up, it could destroy Glay.

There were a few particular fallacies in that latter line of reasoning. Whether it was known to the band or not that they were together, if something happened, it could still tear Glay apart. But somehow Jiro always felt that it would be easier to get through in tact if no one knew.

"So basically, Ayu," he concluded softly to the cat, "I'm a bastard and I'm afraid of commitment. I want two things at once... I want security for Glay and I want Hisashi."

He was afraid of losing Glay. He knew now that it had been that way from the start.

But now...? Now he was also afraid of losing Hisashi.

Jiro bit his lip. Sitting there in the darkness it was all he could do to keep the tears from his eyes, to keep fighting the sting because he didn't deserve to shed them. He was the cause of all this...

Ayu mewed again, then, and leapt off of his lap, and he watched in silence as she trotted away. Away from the couch, onto the tile floor, down the hall. Toward Hisashi's bedroom.

Jiro pushed himself to a stand, rising with a sigh. Moving through the darkness with eyes that were adjusted to the blue-black light, he padded silently after the cat. Reaching Hisashi's room, he saw the door ajar, now more than a crack open because Ayu had pushed her way through.

Actions quiet and restrained by hesitancy, he slipped inside. A sliver of moonlight crept around the blinds, seeping inside and falling in a soft shadow across the bed. Ayu sat next to the bed on the floor, watching him with large eyes that gleamed with a green reflection.

Hisashi looked forlorn and somehow fragile as he slept; his fact was contorted, slightly, as if in pain. He lay on his side, one arm laying palm-up on the sheets next to him, hand open as if in supplication, the other clutching the covers perhaps too tightly.

Jiro's heart ached, and he approached the bed, unable to stop himself. Maybe all things considered it would have been better if he left, or at least returned to the couch, left Hisashi alone. But he couldn't, he couldn't make himself walk away when Hisashi lay there like that, so alone and delicate.

Moving as silently and gracefully as possible in the darkness of the velvet, still night, he went around the bed and slipped onto it from the other side. He couldn't reconcile sliding under the covers, so he remained atop them, ignoring the slight chill to the air. Settling gently onto the bed, he pressed up against Hisashi, spooning against him from behind, creeping one arm around the guitarist's waist.

He could feel the tenseness of Hisahsi's muscles when he first touched him, but then, in response to his presence, he heard a wordless murmur leave Hisashi's lips like a sigh. In his sleep Hisashi shifted to accommodate, pressing back
against Jiro, the stiffness in him lessening.

Jiro sighed, his breath stirring Hisashi's fine hair.

< I don't know what to do... I don't know what I did today, how I could do that just because I was upset... I swear it meant nothing, I swear I am so sorry... >

< But don't leave me, Hisa. I used to be scared of us, of what might happen to Glay... Now I'm scared that I'll drive you away, lose you... >

< I'm just... scared... >

He let his eyes slide closed and wondered what tomorrow would bring.

*

He woke up with Jiro's arms around him. And for one single, precious moment, everything felt right.

But that was only on the surface, only momentary. Because everything wasn't right. Nothing was right.

A recollection of the previous day washed over him. Their fight. Jiro and Teru kissing. Jiro showing up on his doorstep later, seeking reconciliation that Hisashi couldn't give.

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't lead two separate lives, it was starting to hurt, he was starting to doubt. He needed to know what mattered to Jiro, he needed to know so that he could figure out what to let matter to himself.

He didn't know in what way he fell asleep - other than the fact that he was alone - but now he was on his side, arms curled against himself, one hand loosely holding the covers. Jiro's arm was draped over him from behind, and it was only now that he realized Jiro's fingers were gently stroking his arm, idle and warm.

"Are you awake?" Hisashi finally asked softly, voice floating into the room.

Jiro's hand stopped. "Aa... Ohayo."

"Ohayo," Hisashi whispered in return, before letting silence fall. Laying on his side, unmoving, he stared into the dawn-darkness. The air was woven with tense threads, but he had nothing to say to break it.

After that long moment, Jiro moved to pull away, slipping his arm back from around Hisashi and drawing away. The guitarist didn't try to stop him. When he felt Jiro's presence retract, felt the mattress shift, he moved onto his back,
folding his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling but seeing Jiro from the corner of his eye. The bassist remained sitting on the bed next to him; his knees were drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, and his chin rested on his knees. He stared straight ahead.

Hisashi wondered in anguish how they had come to this. When their relationship first started, almost six months ago, it had been fun. They had been happy, the fact that they felt it best to keep it a secret was okay. After all, they were
experimenting, they weren't really sure of themselves. However, as things got deeper, more serious, Hisashi thought it would change, he wanted it to change, to tell the band. But Jiro wouldn't let him, refused.

And now, many fights and an unfaithful kiss later, that had degenerated into this...

< I asked him if love was enough. I didn't say that to hurt him... Because we do love each other, and yet, we have come to this. We've come to this and I don't know what this will become... >

A soft voice cut the stillness, child-like in its hesitancy.

"What are you thinking about?"

Hisashi focused his gaze, which had fixed on the ceiling but was distant, staring beyond it, into his own thoughts, and flicked his eyes toward Jiro. The blonde man had his head turned slightly, he was gazing down at Hisashi. His eyes were both pleading and guarded.

Hisashi held down a sigh. "You," he responded simply, hearing his voice to be both wistful and emotionless.

Jiro looked away. "Hisa, I..."

"Don't," Hisashi said softly, breaking into his faltering voice. "Jiro, if nothing has changed since last night... If you have nothing new to say to me, nothing that can change the situation, then... don't say it." He tried to not choke on the pain his words created.

There was a long silence, deathly still and seemingly endless.

Finally: "....Wakatta." Jiro's voice was barely even a whisper. Hisashi let his head fall to the side, away from Jiro. He listened, felt, as the other man moved, as he uncurled and rose from the bed. Next followed the pad of footsteps
crossing the carpet, a mere whisper of sound. Jiro came into the corner of Hisashi's vision when he reached the door and paused, half-turning around.

"I'll see you at practice, Hisashi," he whispered.

Then he was gone.

Biting his lip, Hisashi buried his face in his pillow.

part 3