Jiro awoke slowly with a stretch. It was Day Two of Glay's one-week vacation and there was nothing more that he wanted to be doing than lounge in the comfort his bed provided. He'd had a good sleep and got up to a favorable one as well, one that he refers to as a Nirvana awakening, when one slowly opens his eyes after a peaceful slumber, knowing that time is on his side and there was no room for rushes. Seldom had he gotten up that way.

A yawn escaped his lips. Maybe the dream he had the previous night did the trick. Now that he thought about it, there wasn't much to decipher. He was in a place that appeared to be the heart of a virgin forest. Blue mist surrounded him as immaculate white feathers fell like snow from the sky. Walking further down a cobblestone path, he reached a pond where a lovely being was waiting for him…a nymph…having the most exquisite thin lips, daintiest sculpted nose and the most divine blue hair.

"Too bad I never got around long enough to see what would happen next," he mumbled wistfully. Then he hugged the pillow beside him. "Demo, maybe I could do something about that." Just as his eyelids fell shut, the telephone rang. Keeping his expletives to himself, he picked up. "Ohayo."

"You still in bed, sleepyhead?" came Reiko's voice.

"I'm on vacation," he reminded with a scowl.

"I know, that's why you're free to accompany me to my family's reunion today. Precisely the reason as well why I'm calling you up lest you'd forgotten about it." She let a few seconds pass. "You didn't forget, did you?"

/Shit! And I thought I was going to spend the whole day sleeping./ Slowly, Jiro sat up in bed. "No, I didn't. I was just trying to see if I could catch a few more winks, that's all." He cleared his throat.

"Liar," she remarked with a girlish giggle.

Jiro couldn't understand why the laugh piqued him. "No, I mean it. I'm coming down with a slight cough, you see." As if for emphasis, the bassist cleared his throat anew.

"Yeah, and fishes don't swim." She sighed. "You get moving now, you hear? I expect you to be here in two hours."

Jiro glanced at the clock. Eight in the morning. "I thought it's a lunch gathering."

"It is, but I don't want to be late. When have I ever been one?"

"Can't we make a grand entrance?"

"You're a superstar. You don't need a grand entrance. Get out of bed now, okay? Ja."

The slight click he heard confirmed Jiro the call was over. "You never even let me have a final word." Sighing, he put the receiver down. Reiko's last words bothered him. He knew his music magazine editor-girlfriend loved him but sometimes he couldn't help wondering if she wanted him just to show her family who she's dating. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is that she loves me."

A voice from inside him questioned his words. /But do you love her?/

Jiro creased his forehead. "Of course I love her! Where had that stupid question come from anyway?" He looked around the confines of his room, assuring himself he was alone. Then he sputtered. "Now, I'm even talking to myself. I must be going nuts." After one last strain to relax his muscles, Jiro peeled the covers off his boxers-clad body then got up.

His freshly showered form emerged from the bathroom minutes later, hair still dripping. He took out a navy blue ensemble from his closet and laid it down on the still unmade bed. He settled on a red tie to go with it, placing the silk material beside the pair of black socks. Seeing the garments made him wince. No matter how many people told him he looks best in a suit, he still didn't want to go parading around town in it. He only wears the damned things during live TV appearances, specific photo shoots and prim gatherings. The reunion wasn't exactly formal; Reiko herself said so. /Then why can't I just wear my jeans?/

The phone rang again. "Now I'm starting to see why Hisashi hates you so much," a ticked off Jiro said onto the Bell invention. He didn't want to take the call but he had no choice. He knew Reiko was very likely to be at the other end of the line, nagging time and again for him to show up promptly at her doorstep. Either that or Takuro was the one trying to get his way into Jiro's line, perhaps with the news that he'd changed his mind about Glay's one-week break and that rehearsals were to commence right after lunch. That sainted leader of theirs could be a real slave driver sometimes. For some
reason, Jiro found himself wanting to get his butt toiling away at the recording studio more than eating at a feast. "Hai? Moshi moshi."

There was a sniff from the other end of the line. "Jiro?"

"Hisashi?" Jiro was startled before he was suddenly gripped with fear. There seemed to be something wrong. "Are you all right, Hisashi?"

"Were you doing anything?"

"Uh, no. I was just-" He caught sight of the freshly pressed clothes on his bed, "-just lazing around." He cleared his throat. Why can't he be ever good at lying? "Your voice sounds a little strange. Are you sick?"

"No, but Ayu-chan is. I need to take him to the vet but I can't drive since I can't put him down and-"

"Okay, I'll be right there," Jiro declared. "Just wait for me ne? We'll take him together."

"But if I'm keeping you from something-"

"No. Ayu-chan's family. He's far more important. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay. Hayaku ne?"

"Hai. Ja." Jiro pressed the button on his slim phone but didn't put the receiver down just yet. He needed to call somebody. "Rei-chan? It's me…Listen, I can't go with you today, I'm sorry…Something came up…Yes, work-related…I can't tell you now…Yes, it's really important…Look, I'm really in a big hurry…yes, I'll try to call you when I get back. I'm really sorry, okay? Ja." It was only when Jiro put the phone down was he able to clear his throat.

The drive to Hisashi's house didn't help Jiro forget the lie he'd given his girlfriend earlier. It squirmed its way into his mind as a worm would. How would Reiko feel if she'd found out the truth? She was traded for a cat, just as his crisp flawless suit was traded for the more comfy jeans, T-shirt and denim jacket he had preferred. How stupid could that get?

Furiously, Jiro shook his head to erase the thought. Ayu was family, not just for Hisashi but for the whole of Glay as well. That made the precious feline more important. But no matter how he tried, the real reason couldn't escape him: Ayu was not just any cat; it was Hisashi's. The thought brought him back to his priorities: it wasn't about clothes or about cats. It was about the person. /Because Hisashi is important, period. /

/And Reiko is not?/

Jiro left the question as it is. He shifted into third gear then stepped harder on the accelerator.

* * *

"There's nothing seriously wrong with Ayu. His ear infection would be cleared up in a few days."

Hisashi placed a hand to his chest and sighed in relief over the veterinarian's diagnosis. He looked at Ayu sleeping peacefully on the table, its belly being scratched by Jiro's fingers. For a moment Hisashi forgot what he was doing at the animal clinic. The way the other man petted Ayu was awfully cute. /I wonder if I'll get the same amount of affection if I were the one lying on that table…/

"However," the middle-aged female doctor continued, poring over Ayu's files, "it would do him better if we kept him in here until the infection clears up. He would need constant supervision for the duration of his condition."

Hisashi pursed his lips in thought before looking at his companion. "What do you think, Jiro?"

"Uh, well," Jiro offered, "Takuro did give us the week off from rehearsals. You could keep a close eye on him yourself. I know how much you want to be with him."

It could've been just his imagination but Hisashi thought he caught the sound of a quiver in Jiro's voice, as though brought about by surprise. The round eyes supported his hunch. He tried to banish it from his thought along with the smile finding its way onto his face. "Yes, but I'd need the break to pore over my parts."

The doctor closed the records. "A careful watch on him every now and then would really help him recover the soonest."

Ayu's master sighed. "Then I would leave him here, whatever would be best for Ayu."

"You can visit him from time to time during clinic hours if you miss him that much anyway."

"I know. Thank you." Hisashi straightened in his seat. "How much would the consultation cover?"

"Y2500."

Hisashi dug into his back pocket. "Oh, crap!" he got to his feet, fumbling for all of his pockets.

"What's the matter?" Jiro inquired.

"I can't believe forgot my wallet." His eyes pleaded at the veterinarian. "Could I just come back later for the payment? I've got to get some money back home first."

"No, wait. I've got it," Jiro offered, fishing for the bills in his wallet and handed it to the doctor. "Here you go."

"This is really embarrassing," Hisashi insisted, raking his fingers through his hair. "I didn't mean to leave-"

Jiro gently tapped Hisashi's arm. "Hey, don't sweat it. You were worried. It's understandable. Only Takuro wouldn't accept that kind of an excuse from you, you know, not after you used that one a few years back. Besides, it would save you the trouble."

The hand that left him was warm. It tingled his sensation. "I'll pay you as soon as we get home."

The bassist shrugged. "There's no rush."

Hisashi smiled at him before bowing down at the vet. "We'll be going now. Please take good care of my Ayu." He then leaned down closer to the cat. "You get yourself well, okay? I love you." With a finger, Hisashi lifted the cat's face and kissed the underside of Ayu's jaw. After one longing look at the animal, Hisashi and Jiro stepped out of the clinic.

* * *

"Nani kangaetenno?" Hisashi asked Jiro halfway the ride back to his apartment.

There was genuine astonishment in the driver's tone. "Nani?"

"I was asking you what you were thinking about."

"Uh, the traffic…the fuel tank…nothing in particular, really. Nande?"

"Because you haven't said a word since we left the vet's clinic."

"I wouldn't know what to say."

"Yeah, I guess." His tone suddenly dropped to a soothing pitch. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Jiro stepped on the brakes at the red light then glanced at the person beside him. "I'm the one who should be asking you that. Are you?"

"A little."

"Do you want some ice cream?"

It was Hisashi's turn to be surprised. "What?" he asked with a smile.

"My Mom had always told me ice cream ought to make one feel better. If you want one, I'll make a quick dash for the nearest convenience store and buy you a tub. Hopefully, it would make you stop crying as well."

"Who says I'm crying?"

Jiro's hand reached out to Hisashi's face and gently wiped the trace of tears with the pad of his thumb. "I have eyes, Hisashi."

Caught red-handed, the guitarist strayed his eyes from Jiro's. "Nakanaide. Tears don't belong to your face, you know."

Hisashi hugged his elbows. "I'm just worried. Ayu's never been this sick before."

The light turned green. "I understand your worry but I'm sure Ayu would be fine. He's in good hands."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Hisashi sighed then settled his eyes onto his lap. He entwined his fingers and studied them, rough and callused from being used too much. He felt the car make a right turn then cruise down the road. It didn't take long for him to realize they had stopped right in front of Hisashi's apartment building. He also noticed Jiro wasn't turning the engine off.

Casually, he turned to the bassist. "Aren't you coming up with me?"

Jiro's voice was a trifle too shrilly. "Should I?"

"Why not?"

"Well, we-"

Hisashi knew what the other man was going to say. /We weren't exactly the tightest bunch./ Or something to that effect. And he knew it was true, that's why he had to cut him off. "I've got ice cream in the freezer. Besides, with Ayu away I sure could use some company."

"Meow…" Jiro purred.

Hisashi threw his head back and laughed. "That wasn't so bad. Now try licking yourself clean."

Jiro chortled as well. "You wouldn't want to see me do that. It wouldn't be a very pretty sight."

/Wanna bet?/ The laughter dwindled down and Hisashi looked at Jiro more seriously now, his voice matching the expression on his face. "I don't want to be alone just yet."

"Wouldn't you rather call somebody else?"

"You're here. With me. Why would I need anyone else?"

"Demo-"

/"Please?"/

* * *

The request was all Jiro needed to hear. Added to that was the hand holding on to his arm, practically emitting a plea. The guitarist had never asked him anything of this sort, at least not without that important word. It somehow convinced him that the invitation was sincere. And with that beseeching look on Hisashi's eyes, how could Jiro say 'no'?

"Welcome to my humble home," Hisashi said as soon as he opened the door to let themselves in.

"Uh, Hisashi? This isn't the first time I've been here, remember?"

"I know," the small man replied, turning the lights on, "but this is your first time here without everybody else."

"Oh, that's right." Jiro pretended to be overflowing with fear. "Ne, you didn't invite me just so you could get rid of me permanently, did you?"

Hisashi chuckled lightheartedly on his way into the kitchen. "Are you crazy? I haven't even thought of the best way to carry out that devious plan yet. But thanks a lot for reminding me. I'm sure I'll come up with a plan by tonight."

"Glad I could be of help," the bassist remarked dryly. He stuffed his hands into his back pockets and studied the flat. /When was the last time I was here anyway?/ He shrugged his shoulders, thinking it didn't matter. Nothing much had changed since his last visit. The huge desk in one corner of the living room was still in its same state of turmoil with papers, diskettes, guitar picks, whammy bars and what-have-you scattered on top of what was supposed to be a work area. He made a bet with himself that underneath the stash of balled-up papers was a snake. Or two.

"Please pardon the mess," Hisashi said as he traipsed in from the kitchen, trying to juggle four cans of beer and a tub of Dreyer's in his arms.

The bassist smiled to himself. Although they weren't close and hardly talked to each other at all, the two youngest of Glay always seem to be thinking of the same thing at the same time. "No problem. Hey, if you call this a mess you should see my house."

"I could hardly wait."

Jiro could only stare in disbelief as his host swiped his leg across the center table to make room for the goodies. It wasn't so much the immature act of cleaning that shocked him but his words. /What exactly did Hisashi mean by that?/Hisashi pointed to the armchair near the right end of the sofa. "Have a seat." He then settled himself into the leather upholstery, knees bent and frail legs piled neatly side by side.

The way Hisashi sat reminded Jiro of the dream he'd had. It made his body react in a way he didn't want to, at least not in front of the gorgeous man. Immediately, he wiped his sweating hands on his thighs then sat down at the proffered seat.

"Help yourself," Hisashi said, his hand reaching for a spoon.A smile appeared on his lips as he read the label: Strawberry Passion. Then Jiro stopped short. There was only one tub of ice cream and two spoons. Was he expected to share the container with Hisashi? But there was no other choice. After Hisashi got his first fill, Jiro likewise dug his spoon into the goo and took a bite. As though he had tasted nothing, the bassist quickly took another serving, followed by yet another. /When did ice cream taste this good?/

A few seconds later, he realized he'd been acting like a kid. Sheepishly, he looked at Hisashi, expecting the blue-haired man to be glowering at him. The face that met him was nowhere near to what he was anticipating. The spoon-inverted, Jiro was certain of it-was stuffed between Hisashi's tongue and the roof of his mouth, the slight twitching of the thin lips telling the bassist that the other man was sucking on the last dredges of goo on his spoon. It looked cute. Hell, Hisashi looked mighty cute. Jiro fought the urge to cuddle and kiss the petite man. Then he noticed the eyes. Hisashi was
watching at him.

"Nani?" Jiro asked.

Hisashi smiled then shook his head, the soft blue strands swaying along with the movement. He let the spoon slide out of his mouth with a smack. "Nothing. I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything." Hisashi put his spoon down. "You've done a lot for me for one day. Ayu thanks you as well."

"It was nothing. You would've done the same." Jiro's gaze met Hisashi's peering form. "Then again, maybe not," he muttered.

Hisashi's shoulder shook along with a laugh. "Hey, I'm not that mean. Under the circumstances, I would've done the same…unless your pet happened to be a crocodile, a pit viper, a Great White shark or a hamster."

"How did a hamster get into that?"

"Well…I was bitten by a hamster some years ago. It scared the beejeebers out of me, until now."

Jiro flashed him a sinister grin. "I'll keep that in mind."

Hisashi picked up the Miller and flipped open the tab. He took three gulps before putting the can down. "Seriously, though, I'm really grateful for your help."

"You're welcome." Jiro gave the one question badgering him since he left the house a go. "I do wonder though why you had asked me, not that I resent it. I mean, I would've figured you'd call Teru first."

The guitarist stretched out his legs then lay down on the couch, his feet near Jiro's seat. He didn't lose the eye contact. "His kids are with him since yesterday so I didn't have to call him. And the workaholic Takuro is, you seemed like-"

"The only choice left?" Jiro finished for him.

"Not exactly. But you did say you weren't doing anything so you seemed like the most logical choice. Had you been busy I would've called somebody else."

Jiro pushed the thoughts that surged into the back of his mind…thoughts of the one he left unchosen just to be with this man. "Well, it sounded like a matter of life and death. I don't want to be bothered by negative consequences. Besides, Ayu's very important to you. I've known that all these years we've been with him."

"Seems like a long time, ne?" Hisashi smiled. "You know, I can't seem to recall one instance when we'd talked as much as we did now."

"That's because we never did." Jiro set his spoon down on the ice cream lid. "You never talk for more than what you have to say to me."

A sigh flitted out from between Hisashi's lips, a long thoughtful one. He stared blankly at the ceiling. "Yes, that might be true."

"And I never really thought of a topic we could possibly dwell on."

"Yes, that might be the case."

Silence passed. Jiro noticed the ice cream was melting in record time. "Ne, are you still gonna eat some more?"

"No." His eyes never left the ceiling.

"Then I better put this back into the freezer before it turns into strawberry slush." Jiro made his trip into Hisashi's kitchen, the cans of beer left behind on the table. His observant self surfaced when he opened the door to Hisashi's fridge. /It's just like mine,/ he mused, studying the contents, although a lot messier. The brown orbs fell on the boxes of beer stacked beside the white kitchen appliance. /And I couldn't say the same about his stock./

On his way back, photos adorning the breakfast counter that separates the dining area from the kitchen distracted him. It was an odd collection that reflected all of Hisashi's life…one of Glay in their indies days, right before their first live, /God, what the hell was I thinking wearing black lipstick;/ photos of an nine-month-old Hisashi grinning with a tongue stuck out, /Who would've known he had chubby cheeks then?;/ the Tonomura family away at a beach trip, /Why was Hisashi's nose so sunburned?;/ another one of Glay, swigging mugs of beer early in the morning in Iceland, /Now that's what you call a good breakfast;/ a teenaged Hisashi with his first band, /I wonder when he experienced his growth spurt;/ the guitarist's high school photo, /He really looks like Pink Five in that sentai program;/ the group making every silly face possible at the height of D.I.E.'s birthday party, /Who took that?;/ and one of the band in Takuro's house during a drinking spree.

The last photo made Jiro smile. Teru, Takuro and Jiro were already seated on the leader's small couch for a picture when Hisashi strode in late. In haste to be part of it, Hisashi sat on the floor at one end of the couch-right by Jiro's feet-then propped his arms on Jiro's lap, the head resting upon the nest of his own limbs. /I had no idea he'd keep this one./ But Jiro was quick to put his feet back on the ground. Hisashi probably kept it for the memories and not for anything else.

Silence other than slow even breathing met Jiro back at the living room. He shuffled lightly across the floor to where a sleeping Hisashi was still sprawled over the couch. Ayu's condition must've really worn him out. The guitarist had shifted to lie on his side, the chin-length blue locks covering half of his face, prompting Jiro to wonder if the soft strands didn't tickle. Gently as he could, the bassist smoothed the hair away from Hisashi's temples, to reveal the face once hidden by the dyed mass. Jiro was glad the act had been worth it for no matter what angle he tried to see Hisashi from, the
same delicate features would welcome him. He examined the serene face, oblivious yet exuding the usual charm simply by napping.

/Do you even have any idea just how beautiful you are?/

Hisashi shivered slightly, but never opened his eyes. Finding no blanket within his view, Jiro took off his denim jacket and draped it over the sleeping form. He could've just as easily gotten a quilt from Hisashi's bedroom, but Jiro felt it wouldn't be right. Letting out a satisfied sigh, Jiro padded softly towards the door. He cast one checking glance at Hisashi before he turned the lights out and left.

* * *

Hisashi slowly opened his eyes to the dimly lit room at the sound of the door latch clicking. /How long had I been out?/ There was no way to find out. He had removed his watch earlier and the digital clock somewhere above his TV registered a mere blur, making him admonish himself for falling asleep with his contact lenses on. Sighing, he tried to recall the last thing he saw before he had drifted off…something about someone sitting on his armchair.

/Jiro./

Hisashi suddenly sat bolt upright. "Jiro?" he called out a few times, the faint echo of his own voice being the only response. The man who had been with him a while ago, the very person who had helped him out of his dilemma was gone, Hisashi was certain of it. He snorted. /Why wouldn't he be gone? I fell asleep on him./ He smacked a hand on his forehead. /Baka!/

He sunk back into his couch with a sigh, thinking how he could ever apologize to the bassist. Just when he felt like really taking the time out to get close to the other man, here he was acting like a complete idiot, embarrassing Jiro two times in a row in just one day. //Now he'll never know I'm sincere about befriending him.// In frustration, he grasped the garment that had slipped down from his torso and veiled it over himself.

Hisashi blinked. //I didn't have a blanket out here.// He sat up once again to examine the drape, his mouth taking in a gasp upon recognition of Jiro's blue jacket, the very same one the bassist had been wearing earlier. He brought the material to his nose and inhaled deeply, capturing the scent of Jiro's cologne wafting from the fabric. Clutching at the one thing he had of the bassist, Hisashi bit his lip then smiled. He had to see Jiro again.

part 3