Eiri held Shuichi's small form close, his eyes squeezed shut tight and his breathing ragged. The idiot was safe. Thank Buddha, Shuichi was safe. After the explosions at the airport, there was no way in hell he was going to let the former vocalist out of his sight ever again. They would do joint book tours if they had to, but he would be damned if he ever let Shuichi go somewhere by himself ever again.

His lover's kindness and desire for attention . . . had saved him. Hell, it had saved Shuichi and Tohma. Eiri did not want to think of what could have happened if both his best friend and his lover had been at the airport when that race car had exploded. As it turned out, Tohma had stopped at a bookstore on the way to Narita, and Shuichi had followed him inside. Tohma had said something about getting a welcome home gift for Suguru, which had caused their delay in meeting Eiri to retrieve the young keyboardist. The moment he had stepped inside, Shuichi had been beset with fans. Most had wanted CDs signed, but a few had shoved copies of his books in front of him. The former vocalist had been gracious to sign everything the fans had put in front of him, and his kindness and yet selfish behaviour, his inability to turn away those who adored him, had saved his and Tohma's lives.

"Eiri . . ." He heard the question in Shuichi's voice and the slight plea.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight. Never."

A soft sigh escaped Shuichi.

"I kind of figured that out, but could you at least ease up your grip? I can't move!"

"That's the point, baka."

'That's the point.'