*CRASH!!!*

Hisashi looked down the kitchen floor at the pieces of broken glass, the biggest shard missing his bare right foot by a few precious centimeters. Split cold water stained the marbled flooring where the glass had slipped from his grip. He stepped away from the debris and steadied himself on the counter stool.

Ayu pranced in from the living room, his tilted head and huge eyes fixated on his master for a moment. "I, uh…it slipped," Hisashi explained in a shaky voice as though uncannily having sensed the question on the cat's face. "I don't know anything else."

The cat walked on to round Hisashi's feet, rubbing at his master's slender legs in a plea for attention. Hisashi bent down and scooped Ayu in his arms to settle the feline on the kitchen counter. Hisashi retrieved a dustpan and a stiff broom from the cleaning closet then began sweeping. "I better clean up this mess first before you get yourself hurt, Ayu-ch -- OUCH!" A glass fragment had managed to prick his finger. "Or before *I* get myself hurt." Hisashi carefully took out the piece, letting blood ooze from the wound. "Shit. I hate the sight of blood." He sucked on it for a few seconds before finishing the cleanup.

Hisashi cradled Ayu back with him to the living room, putting the cat down beside him on the couch this time. He took a cigarette from his pack then lit it, only to realize that his hands hadn't stopped quivering. "Damnit!" he yelled, hurling the lighter and the Kool stick as far as he could. Ayu lifted his head questioningly at his master once again at the sound of the curse. This time, Hisashi wasn't as patient. "Oh, don't ask me what's wrong. I have not the foggiest notion what's wrong. The hell I don't know what's wrong!"

After his verbal aggression, he let out an exasperated sigh then leaned back to recall what had caused the glass incident. It bothered him that he didn't know what triggered it. All he could gather was that he felt the need for a glass of water and just as he brought the crystal to his lips, an unexplainable kind of fear speared into him, making his hold loosen and thus sending the glass into smithereens.

It made him uneasy. And anxious. And afraid. He'd had nagging feelings like this before and they all brought him news he wouldn't like hearing. He thought hard. Was it because he couldn't remember his solo in one of their new songs? Or perhaps those fangirls Teru thought he'd escaped from were lurking around the lobby of his apartment. Or maybe he'd forgotten to pay his water bill due that afternoon.

"No," Hisashi said, shaking his head. Those were minor, nothing that he couldn't take care of. But this feeling that was drilling into him…he couldn't put a finger on it but he knew he wouldn't like it. "God, somebody let me know now just what this is, please."

As if in response, Ayu let out a meow. Hisashi looked to his right to see the cat rubbing his face against the heavy plastic envelope between them. "Jiro," Hisashi murmured, recalling that the bassist had brought it earlier. He took the envelope and Ayu looked at him expectantly. He sighed, petting him. "You like Jiro, don't you?" Ayu purred. "Yeah, I know how you feel."

Hisashi's attention drifted back to the envelope--brightly colored, as characteristic of Jiro--and curious of its contents. //Correction, content//, he thought seeing the envelope contained one black covered album, apparently a clearbook or a portfolio. The breath hitched in his throat when he turned to the first page and his own image met his gaze. //The photo shoot//, Hisashi recalled, reeling his mind back to a few nights ago, to that night when he had been closest to admitting to Jiro his feelings of…

//Of what?//

Hisashi leafed through the pages, his eyes critically studying every detail of his face. He had to admit that for someone with no formal training in photography, Jiro was marvelous at the craft. They hadn't used any special lights then, just plain house fluorescents and a few candles for a gothic touch. Hisashi hadn't been wearing any makeup during the shoot; the rosy tints on his cheeks had been caused by insobriety. They weren't even in a real studio. Yet, the pictures appeared as though touched by Japan's most noted photographers. Hisashi was confident enough to compare; they've worked with practically all the best the country had to offer.

His gaze focused on one particular picture, a shot taken just after Jiro told him something. Hisashi felt his face redden upon recount of Jiro's words…//"You're beautiful, Hisashi, you know that?"// Without a doubt, Hisashi had been astounded. Still, he had managed to let out a small smile, one so fleeting which he hadn't intended to be captured on film. But the smile was there, glossily affixed on paper. He should've known better about shutter speeds.

Jiro's utterance still rang in Hisashi's ears. Had it come from Teru, the guitarist probably would've raised a perfect brow and sassed 'Yeah, I know' followed by a bitchy laugh enough to make Teru blush. It was easy to embarrass the vocalist. But when the compliment had come from Jiro, it made things totally different. He had initially felt surprised--because charming others was Teru's job, whereas Jiro's was to crack jokes and be totally annoying--and self-conscious--because Hisashi had never thought of himself to be beautiful. Vain, yes. Struggling to look gorgeous, that, too.

//But beautiful?// Hisashi shook his head. Being beautiful was having a charming cupid face, a long graceful neck, smooth full cheeks, haunting brown eyes and the most captivating and sensual pouty lips. Being beautiful was possessing a sunny, genki disposition, a brazen smile for anyone, and a caring and sensitive heart. Being beautiful was…was…//being Jiro.//

Hisashi bit his lip as he pursued the next page, the last one in the album. It was the photo of the two of them together, when Jiro had set the camera timer and joined Hisashi on the couch. He brought the book closer to his face, examining it closely. He hadn't really thought about how he had looked then but he knew happiness was flowing through his every nerve when it happened because he was sharing the frame with Jiro.

A genuine smile had adorned Hisashi's already pretty photogenic features and he looked as relaxed as the word could be. He didn't appear any different from any other pictorial, except for one detail: his eyes had been caught directed at Jiro who had been staring straight at the camera, donning his signature delectable smile.

Hisashi sat transfixed. Questions flooded him. Why was he staring at Jiro? Why had the camera caught it? Why did he look so goddamn happy? He caressed the photograph with the pads of his fingers. Another image of the two of them…together.

//Why does together look so right?//

He stared at Jiro's face, wondering what it was about the bassist that sent him to this thick pool of emotions he was wading through right now. God knew how much he had hated--or envied--the taller man before. Now that they had gotten to be better friends, now that they've gone past and beyond that awkward first step at trying to be tighter, Hisashi still felt there was something not right. Like something was missing, something unanswered, something that only he could provide light on.

//But what is it? What did you do to me, Jiro?//

Hisashi blamed the bassist, the one whose face had been bringing about the unexplainable sense of peace and comfort into him, whose company he'd been enjoying each minute they were with each other, whose mere presence could liven up his otherwise pathetic and dark existence.

Jiro spelled the difference in his life.

Then it hit Hisashi, like the lighting bolt outside had struck something far yonder. Tears fell from his eyes and landed on the plastic sheet covering the beloved photograph. It all came to him and it all made perfect sense…the great yearn to be with Jiro, the intense joy he felt whenever they were together, the impudent attempts at flirting, the faint hope that he had ceased ties with Reiko, the fear of being found in the same room with a scant Teru, the excruciating ache at seeing Jiro walk away from him. Lust had nothing to do with it. The emotions…they were all signs of the age-old consuming feeling he'd recognized but overlooked, savored but dismissed, felt but brushed aside.

Hisashi was in love with Jiro.

He'd always been; he just didn't give the feeling a name and instead ignored it, because Jiro was straight, because Jiro has Reiko, because Jiro saw him as no more than a bandmate and friend. Why else would Jiro reject his advances that night in his kitchen? Why else would the bassist hesitate when Hisashi asked him pointblank about his shaky ground with Reiko? Why else would Jiro give him the privacy the bassist assumed Hisashi needed with Teru? If Jiro loved him, he wouldn't have left him. Hisashi wouldn't have…because he loves him.

//And I should let Jiro know that.//

Hisashi wiped the tears away with his fingers then sniffed. Esteem started to build up inside him. No matter what happens, regardless of how Jiro felt for him, Hisashi knew he had to let Jiro know of his love. It may not promise him anything, it may all be in vain, but at least he tried. He'd escaped from a lot of things before, preferring to hide behind his mask of arrogance and coolness. It never brought him happiness. Deep down, Hisashi was clinging on to the thin fleeting hope that what he feared wasn't true, that love was right within his reach, that everything would turn out fine the way fantasies were made to be. It sounded naïve and too idealistic, but it was his only shot. //I will take the risk.//

In a huff, Hisashi sprang from the couch and picked up the cordless phone to dial Jiro's mobile number. He paced around his living room aimlessly, waiting to be connected to the other line.

"The mobile number you are calling is outside the coverage area or has turned its unit off," came the office-type recorded message.

"Damnit!" Hisashi cursed then redialed the number, only to receive the same monotonous message. At the fifth try, he was certain Jiro's mobile phone was useless. He was just about to dial Jiro's house phone when a knock came on his door. Praying it was the bassist, Hisashi dropped the cordless onto the couch and dashed for the door, not wasting a second in opening it.

"Jiro?" he wheezed.

"Uh, no. Sorry," Teru said.

"Did you find him? Did you find Jiro?" Hisashi asked, ignoring the downcast look on the vocalist's face.

"No. I didn't set out to find him."

"Oh." Hisashi looked down at his feet for a moment. "Forgot something?"

Teru shook his head. "May I come in?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." Hisashi stepped aside to make room, subtly wiping any residue of his tears away. "So, why'd you come back?"

Teru ran a hand through his shaggy brown mane. "Has Takuro called you up?"

"No."

The vocalist's eyebrows knit together. "So who were you talking to?"

"If you'd count that prerecorded message of Jiro's mobile network as a party, that's about it."

"Did you get through?"

"No. His mobile's off. I was going to call him up at his house but then you knocked. I thought it was him."

"That explains it."

"Explains what?" Hisashi linked his arms before him. "What's going on?"

Teru took in a deep breath. "So it means I'm gonna have to break it to you."

"Break what to me?" Hisashi cried impatiently. "Spill it, Teru. You're starting to make me damn nervous."

Teru stared into Hisashi's eyes as though studying the best route to tell him the news from the expression on the guitarist's eyes. "Hisashi, something happened to--"

The strident ringing of the phone came between them. "Hold that thought," Hisashi said, immediately whirling around to favor the equipment he'd used to hate over his best friend. He lunged himself at the phone and pressed the button before it could ring for the third time. "Jiro? Look, we need to talk. I'm--"

"Hisashi? It's me, Takuro."

"Takuro," Hisashi whispered, almost embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I-I thought you were…somebody else." He clamped a hand to his forehead to calm his nerves down. "So…what's up?"

"Hisa-chan, you've got to get down to the general hospital. Something happened."

The fear that had been eating at him since the glass quandary at the kitchen returned, this time much overpowering. He dreaded he was about to find out what had provoked it. Both of his hands gripped the phone. "What is it?"

"Jiro met an accident."

Hisashi's heart plunged to his knees. "WHAT?"

"Jiro met an accident," repeated the trying-hard-not-to-panic leader. "The cops called me up just a while back and--"

"How is he?"

"I don't know yet. I'll find that out when I get to the hospital."

Hisashi gulped, uncertain whether to ask the question in mind but braved up anyway to give it a go. "How did it happen?"

"He…he got into a car crash. He ran smack into a wall."

Hisashi took in a sharp gasp of air. "Oh my God!" His shaking hands severed their hold on the phone to cover his gaping mouth, letting the slim piece drop onto the floor. He felt his legs turn into water and gave way, making him slump into the couch. He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it that when Jiro walked away from him earlier, it was the last time the bassist would ever do that. It couldn't be happening.

Teru rushed to Hisashi's side and held a hand out to comfort the guitarist, the other to retrieve the phone and hear Takuro calling out Hisashi's name repeatedly. "Ne, Takuro, it's me, Teru…Yeah, Hisashi's right here…I'll explain later…I'll take him with me to the hospital…We'll see you there, okay?"

Hisashi had curled up in a ball by the time Teru brought his attention back at the small man. Instinctively, Teru wrapped his arms around Hisashi, trying to calm down the now freely crying man. One thing kept tumbling out of Hisashi's thin pink lips. "I caused it…I caused it..."

"It's not your fault, Hisashi," Teru consoled to the man he'd never seen cry openly before. "It was an accident. Nobody wanted it to happen. Nobody prayed for it to happen."

"But it was *my* fault. If I had run after him, he wouldn't have left. He wouldn't have been in his car. He wouldn't have met that accident. He would've been here with me, not there at the fuckin' hospital, probably fighting for his damn life. And I haven't even told him yet how much…how much I…I love him!" Hisashi had blurted it all out in one breathing, he wondered if he made any sense at all.

Teru sighed then pulled Hisashi to his feet. "C'mon, we need to get going."

"To where?" Hisashi asked between sobs.

"Tono-chan, I'm not the one who needs to hear all these." Hisashi opened his mouth to say something, but Teru's stern voice lorded. "Hisashi…let's go."

The guitarist had wanted to protest some more but when Teru used his 'big brother' tone on him, he fell silent. He'd always relied on Teru's guidance as much as he relied on his own brother's. Maybe Teru was right.

"How is he?" Teru asked Takuro once he spotted him walking back and forth down the hallway on the ninth floor where Jiro's room was, as informed by the nurse on duty at the station.

"Oh, thank God, you're here." Takuro combed his long fingers through his hair then managed a smile. "Jiro's doing okay. Nothing major, nothing grave. The airbags saved his life."

Teru looked up and mouthed, "Thank you." He heaved a big sigh of relief. "So, can we see the little brat?"

"In a few minutes," Takuro replied. "The doctor's in there checking up on him. Masahide's in there, too. I just had to get out because I didn't want to hear the nasty details of the accident."

"Will he be confined for long?"

"I don't think so. We're waiting for the results of the X-ray and the scan. If he doesn't have any fracture or internal bleeding, he'll be scot-free by the next day. But they'd have to keep him here overnight, just to be sure." Takuro shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid I may have to cancel the meeting for the video shoot tomorrow."

Teru couldn't believe his ears. "What the hell do you mean 'you may have to cancel'? You *have* to cancel. This is Jiro we're talking about!"

"Teru, calm down," Hisashi said coolly, trying to see if his attitude would rub off on the vocalist. Teru had this tendency to get riled up over things, especially when it had something to do with any of the band members. He'd been more than certain it had something to do with Teru's fraternal instinct working its butt off.

For the first time since they arrived, Takuro took a good look at the petite guitarist. "Hisashi?"

He crooked a brow. "Yeah?"

"What the hell happened to you? You look like you've ran into a bullfight."

Hisashi hurled the leader a quick death glare but then settled to shrug and embrace his elbows in an act of self-control instead. Although he still didn't look particularly pretty as he always did, he'd managed in one way or another to look somewhat presentable during the ride. But the swollen eyes must've given him away.

Takuro didn't seem to have any of Hisashi's silent admonitions and instead grinned amusedly. "Gee, nice attitude, too."

Hisashi was about to hurl out a string of invectives when the door to Jiro's room flew open. Masahide came out and shook hands with the doctor and the nurse who had headed for the other way. Takuro immediately ran up to him. "How's Jiro?"

"Strong as ever," Masahide said, smiling, the excess baggage of worry having obviously been lifted off his back. "It was good his car took more of the damage than he did. Otherwise…" The producer of Glay left his sentence hanging.

"Did he tell you how it happened?" Teru wanted to know.

"Yeah. It appears he wasn't able to immediately see the wall he crashed into. Poor visibility. The rain had really been falling hard."

"What was he doing driving out in the storm anyway?" Takuro queried this time.

"He didn't say. Maybe he visited Reiko."

"Reiko?"

"Yeah. I mean, who else would he visit at such a horrible weather like this except for his koibito?"

"Sou ka. I guess they haven't broken up after all." Takuro shrugged nonchalantly. "He must really love her that much."

Hisashi bent his head, feeling he was having enough of the conversation between Takuro and Masahide. He was already feeling as guilty, confused, hurt, sad and angry as he was; no need for another heap of coal into his already irate mood.

Takuro clapped his hands once. "Let's go then. Jiro sure could use company."

Everyone moved to enter the room but Hisashi remained stock still in his place. "I can't."

Takuro's head looked back at Hisashi fast, his neck made a snapping sound. "Could you run that by me again?"

"I…I can't see him. I'm sorry. I want to know if he's alright but, I just can't--"

The towering leader turned completely around. "Okay, you know what, Hisashi? I think you've taken this hostility thing with Jiro too far. He's a comrade, for crying out loud! And he's your friend, too, damnit, no matter how much you two give the word a whole new meaning. The least you can do is be there and act like you care about what happened to him." Takuro shook his head. "Jesus, you behave as though you had a hand in his mishap."

Hisashi gulped and the hands on his sides clenched into frustrated fists. No matter how less Takuro knew of the hidden story, the twinge in the leader's stern words made Hisashi feel more condemned. He still hadn't gotten over his own realization that he had almost killed Jiro.

"Ne, Takky, you go on ahead," Teru jumped in, making Hisashi feel somewhat relieved. The feeling didn't last long when the vocalist hinted at yet another round of talk with the words, "Hisa and I will follow you in a sec."

Takuro looked dubiously at Teru and Hisashi before he sighed. "Suit yourself." He draped an arm across Masahide's shoulders then left.

Hisashi slipped both hands into the back pockets of his jeans after the two had gone into Jiro's room. "Everything seems alright. I guess this means I should get going." He readied to whirl around for the exit.

Teru's hand stopped him before he could move any more. "You're not going anywhere, Tonomura."

Hisashi raised a defiant brow at Teru. "Now what?"

"Oi! Welcome back," Jiro grinned as his two friends made their way in. "Ne, the doctor didn't tell you something bad while you guys were outside, did he?"

"No, of course not," Takuro replied, sitting down beside Jiro on the bed. "But you didn't break you arm, did you?"

Jiro flexed both of his arms to see if there had been any damage. "No, they're fine." He smiled at Takuro. "Why? You're going to wait for my complete recovery if that had happened?"

"No, I would've replaced you."

"Replaced me?" The young man pouted. "With who?"

"There's this chimpanzee at the city zoo who could play the bass way better than you do. We'd just have to give him a few baths and he'll be fine."

Jiro lifted his body and used the pillow under his head to whack his leader's face without hesitation. Somewhere between getting hit and laughing, the tall man got hold of the pillow and snatched it away from Jiro's grasp. "Christ, you're more energetic than anybody I know after crashing into a helpless building!"

"I told you he was fine," Masahide prodded.

"I'm strong!" Jiro roared. "And I don't die easily…bad genes!" Everybody was sent into a fit of laughter.

"Hey, hey, are we having a party here or what?"

Jiro's heart stopped at hearing that same voice twice that night. His teeth gritted but he managed to put up an easy smile at the newcomer. "Hi."

"Hi." Teru walked closer to the bed and patted Jiro's hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Good, I feel so relieved."

//Like hell you are.// "I'm fine," Jiro assured one last time before his attention was stolen by the tall man scanning the restrains of the room. "What are you looking for, Takkun?"

"Teru, where's His--"

"Ne, Takuro?" Teru said, cutting the songwriter's words off. The vocalist scratched his head to buy for a few moments before he continued. "I'd like to have a word with Jiro in private if you guys don't mind."

//Oh, crap//, Jiro thought. If he had known the talk he'd vowed to avoid would come sooner than he had expected, he would've feigned unconsciousness the moment his doctor left. But it was too late for that now. He knew the time would come anyway.

"Sure, if…" The tall guitarist settled his questioning eyes on the patient, "if it's okay with Jiro."

//Might as well get it done and over with.// He cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's alright," Jiro replied. "Not a problem at all. I'll see you guys later." Both he and Teru waited until Takuro and Masahide closed the door behind them. Jiro offered Teru a smile at once, studying the other man's features. "So…what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked innocently despite having a pretty big picture about it.

Teru returned the smile as though his spirits felt a bit lighter at Jiro's friendly gesture. "Gee, I didn't think you'd agree to talk with me still, not after--"

Jiro's smile widened. "Well, apparently you're wrong."

"Yeah. I'm glad." The brown-haired man found himself a chair beside Jiro's bed and sat down on it. "Listen, Jiro…about what happened back there at Hisashi's house…"

"What about it?"

"Look, I just wanted you to know that there's nothing going between Hisashi and me. I was there because of an accident and if I had known earlier that he was expecting you, I wouldn't have showed up at all."

Jiro creased his forehead, letting the other man think he doesn't have a clue as to what had he'd just been told. "Why are telling me this?" he finally asked.

"Because you need to hear it and because I don't want you to be mad at both Hisashi and me."

"Mad?" the bassist cried incredulously, almost trying to stifle a laugh. "Why did you think I was mad? I'm not mad."

"Jiro, let's stop beating around the bush. You're mad, I know it. We've been together long enough for me to read you. You're like my brother and I know how hurt you must've felt."

"What?" Jiro exclaimed, not believing Teru's words. This time, a chuckle escaped his lips. "First mad, now hurt. Really, Teru, sometimes you just crack me up."

"Jiro, I know how you feel for His--"

"Okay, look, Teru," Jiro said before the vocalist could say more of what he had intended to. "Whatever's going on between you and Hisashi is beyond me. I'm out of it. And frankly, I'd hardly care about it."

"But--"

"I met an accident, Teru, because I'd been stupid enough not to take caution. But I'm okay. I could hardly fuss over anything else, not when I've been given another chance to live. I wouldn't want to waste this second lease worrying over something that's not even there." //Like Hisashi's love for me.//

Teru mistook the meaning. "Yeah, you're right. I mean, there's really nothing between him and--"

"Fine. So can we just stop worrying? If you feed me anymore of that nonsense, I wouldn't be able to get well enough to make it back to rehearsals." The younger man grinned mischievously. "Then again, that's kind of a good way to shirk out of Takuro's calls, right?"

Teru shook his head then exchanged laughs with Jiro. "I guess so. 'Think I could get into an accident myself so I could have the same excuse?"

"Try as you might, but you may not be as lucky as I am…or as bad weed as I."

Teru sighed in relief then got up from his seat. "Well, since we've got things cleared out, why don't I get Takuro and Masahide from outside so we can sneer even more at your blunder?"

"Sure. I'd need for Takuro to change my bedpan anyway." His whole body convulsed in giggles.

"Still evil after everything, ne?" Teru ruffled Jiro's hair before he finally left.

Once he was alone, Jiro stared at the ceiling, contemplating on the conversation he just had with Teru. It was even hardly talk, he himself admitted that. But he had to be the one to call the shots, cutting Teru's words off like he did. He couldn't let the vocalist spill what he had prepared to say. Jiro didn't think he could take everything without breaking down. Every time he looked into Teru's eyes, the image of Hisashi would come into his mind, reminding him of that moment when he arrived at the guitarist's apartment. And it still hurt him like hell, enough for him to lose his presence of mind and end up at the friggin' hospital after looking straight into the face of Death.

Jiro didn't hate Teru, he cleared that out to himself. God knew he didn't hate Hisashi either. With the days they've spent together, hate would be the last thing he'd harbor at the blue-haired man. But he hated himself for letting fall prey into the lair that was Hisashi's. Jiro should've known better than thinking it would last and that it was for real. //Stupid, stupid, stupid…//

His silent anguish and screams were suspended when the door opened. He looked at the doorway, expecting his three stooged friends. His mouth gaped open when a pretty man with soft blue hair met his eyes. "Hi," came the timid greeting.

"Hi," Jiro returned to Hisashi.

part 9