Warning: This chapter features trigger or offensive subjects: discussion of mental illness and mental illness stigma, medication use, and acts of violence. If reading about these topics these are possible issues for you, please stop reading now.

Also a response to the reviews:

Dearest Bright Skies,

Thank you so much for your delightful and supportive reviews. Its so wonderful to hear from you and to know you're following and enjoying my writing. I'm very grateful to hear that, and I always will be. And thank you for saying that you felt the same emotion when you read this story to when you first read Gravitation, because I can still remember how I felt the first time I saw it, and how it affected me in an emotional place. Your thoughts are so appreciated and treasured, and your positivity is a big source of encouragement to me, especially since this story is so different, and quite a departure from my other fics. And I'm always so happy when I have you guessing and imagining what lies in store for Shuichi and Yuki, and the story ahead, and that Eiri sassing Tohma made you smile! And yes, I found the idea of Tohma as a psychiatrist pretty amusing too. I hope to update quicker for you in the future. And yes, happy reading and I hope to keep you excited and guessing and that you enjoy this chapter as much as the last two!

I take the back way out. The way Tohma's patients take because they don't want to be seen.

Which is fair.

Because we all know , regardless of what the so-called enlightened people feign with that patronizing support-group accepting attitude , that its not 'ok' to be 'not ok'.

Its a stigma to be mentally ill, to be a burden to one self, and to others or to 'society' (if you want to get that broad with it.)

It's an penance to be afflicted and to not be self- sufficient. (But are any of us self-sufficient? Who cares. ) To have to seek professional help and be medicated in order to withstand yourself and your life. These kind of aliments aren't something you proudly or neutrally wear like a name tag. It doesn' t confirm you like an alibi.

Like guilt, its a liability.

A private thing.

Its something that you try and hide but affects and shows itself in everything that you do and say. Or don't do or say.

The greater it's extremity, the more you have to hide it, like how you might have to conceal a crime you've committed.

Tohma's voice comes back to me like a bad dream. A unpleasant memory- which it already is. "Having disturbed thoughts is not a crime Eiri."

Fine then. Or how you might cover up an nasty scar. That works too.

Its something you have to pretend isn't there, while its crushing the sense out of you, and clobbers you until you're backed into a corner and curled up in it, and it wrings the life out of you like sludge out of a dirty dish rag, and lodges and chokes you in the back of your throat like a chunk of rotting flesh, and you find yourself rummaging through your dumpster of a mind for something decent and unaffected by it, like someone homeless might sift through broken bottles, used diapers, and moldy trash for something edible. Your gradual submission to that losing battle, spreading throughout you , in you, everywhere, like a friend that never deserts you.

It's kind of comforting that way. Its something you can rely on.

Not that I'm speaking from personal experience.

So disregard the prescription in my pocket.

Because for the time being, I'm going to.

I tell myself; I don't need meds.

Not these ones. Not this time. (Not yet anyways.)

They're just back up. Like my knife and my brass knuckles. They're there ,just incase.

Incase of what?

Like a mosquito buzzing noxiously in my ear: "Your profession is not good for you Eiri... Alienating. Physical straining and psychologically grueling..."

That may be so. But its how I make my living and I live with it. So, there won't be any " just in case." Not if I play it smart and don't let down my guard. Whatever's coming , I'm prepared for it.

I can handle it.

I've handled worse.

Like a taunting nagging echo in my head, I once again hear Tohma's annoyingly superior and gentle lilt . "It upset you... You become defensive and agitated when you get upset... and we both know what happened the last time you got upset... "

Oh shut up the hell up Tohma. I think irritably.

Once again, my brother-in-law is wrong.

I'm not upset.

That's the last thing I am.

Its this lousy weather.

It puts me in a mood.

"You never discuss your cases with me Eiri."

No. I never do. For that reason. Its presumption that bothers me. That's what it is.

The power of suggestion- when people are wrong, but are so convinced and arrogant in their incorrect assumptions that they feel the need to inflict on and about you.

So much so, they have to speak it aloud, sow their seeds in your mind, diffuse their insidious influence into you- like a drop of sweetened venom in a glass of water.

Sweet.

The word sticks with me for some reason.

Sweet. Its a word I haven't used or thought of in a long time.

Sweet.

I grimace with disgust.

Sweet like... Shindou's trifling cotton-candy pink hair.

Sweet like that simpering saccharine writing that he felt the need to palm off onto me.

Sweet like his crumpled up love song.

Which makes me wonder: Why would Shindou give it to me?

What the hell am I supposed to do with it?

What kind of guy gives a love song, something so personal to another man? To a stranger he just met? To a private detective he's hiring?

And what was the kid expecting in turn? A nice review? A compliment?

(And a better question: why did I re-read the song one more time in my office before going to Tohma's? )

"One might surmise you have empathized with this particular young man."

Now that's what gets me agitated and defensive.

Not crying pink haired pop singers with no talent and insufferable lyrics.

And me? Empathizing with that stupid idiot? That damned brat?

Tohma is clearly out of his mind.

He's the one who should taking pills. Not me.

And people will make their assumptions as they as do. I mean about the ill. As is their right. They see psychological affliction as the sign of a personal failing, the inevitable outcome to a damaging and immoral past, or a case of somebody losing out with their predetermined and inherited weaknesses.

Bad luck as they say.

Is it?

I wouldn't know.

Tohma's voice comes again to me in a silken tease. "Flat affect. Scattered thoughts . Difficulty sustaining eye-contact."

Damn you Seguchi. I inwardly seethe. You smug bastard.

My thoughts aren't scattered. And by saying I seemed 'flat' , by picking on the subject of Shindou,Tohma knowingly agitated me, and put me on the defensive. Manipulated me into making a 'emotional' confession- and that's even when I came in unannounced and he was supposedly unprepared for my 'impromptu' entrance.

Unless Tohma has always been lying in wait and preparing himself for me to come in. Which I prefer not to think about. Just as I prefer not to be emotional.

As for eye contact- I've seen corpses in frozen rivers with more humanity and warmth in them than those unblinking dead pools Tohma calls his eyes. (Don't ask me where ) Can you blame me if I don't want to look directly into them?

Eye contact (or any contact) with Seguchi always feels like a strip and search. A punishment.

As for Tohma, and what I said to his face, it's always a psychological strip tease. Not only with me, but with all his patients. And all of us to him are his patients or we're patients who just don't know it yet, his subjects to beheld, fiddled with, examined as per his elegant perusal. He handles someone's delicate psyche, like someone might nonchalantly lick their fingertip as they flip through a book while smoking a cigar. Or coolly and lightly blowing on your consciousness like a pair of hot dice. In his cold pert manner, Tohma gyrates, surveys and eludes you. There's an illusion of a relationship and of intimacy between you, when in truth its the epitome of use and alienation. He appears to be giving you everything, but you never really see or get anything of him. My brother-in-law presents himself as a balm and cure, when he's only a temporary subterfuge that will worsen the problem, or he's acquiring information from you for his ends , to gain more ownership and oversight over you. While he does, he skillfully reveals just enough to keep you coming back and wanting more and to keep paying him as he does it. (Disturbing image isn't it.)

"Having disturbed thoughts is not a crime Eiri."

But I have to hand it to him.

Tohma is damned good at what he does. Most of the time.

But I'm better at what I do. All the time.

( I've been so far. Whether you subscribe this to chance or strategy is up to you. )

My venturing into Tohma's office was strategic. It served my purposes. It may have been a grating pain in the ass, but it got the job done. By asking him for meds and by acting 'wrought up' , I fooled him. By making myself appear more 'open' and 'including him in my life, pretending as if what he says actually affects or assists me, I made Tohma feel as though he 'owed' me, or was in a higher position where he could 'help' me. That made him more willing to give me the information I needed. Without actually giving him anything of myself.

It was my own ploy and it worked. (Was it ?)

But I'm focused now. I have a job to do. Like the ones I've done before.

What I know now is to wait.

I know because I understand Tohma's little hints.I understand his hints because I understand Tohma. I understand the way he thinks. His soft power. His infuriatingly indirect ways. His delusional need to be in control, because I do, I let him think he is in control, and that he understands me when I'm the one who's playing him. I let him think he has the upper hand.

Does Tohma have the upper hand on me ?

Still?

I can't let myself think about that.

There are more pressing matters.

For once (and maybe for the last time), I willingly take Tohma's advice.

I wait outside by the elevators.

After about 50 minutes, somebody comes out.

Its not Taki Aizawa.

Nonetheless, he looks familar.

Its Ma-kun. Ask's side-man. The guitarist as I recall.

Thats as good as it going to get.

I get to work.

I tail him.

I follow Ma-kun down the Ginza mainstrip and then several side streets. Its Saturday. A pedestrian day. As you might recall from earlier, it was raining hard, but its since stopped. The streets are still slick and soggy under the grayish sky. Due to that, its not as crowded as it usually is on the weekends.

It might start raining again.

Ma-kun appears to be wandering aimlessly.

Occasionally, the man looks over his shoulder, like he already feels unsafe. Drifting in purposely crowded places with his phone in hand. Possibly wondering if he should call someone. The police? No, not the police. Someone else. But who? Ma-kun looks at his phone over and over, face constantly vacilating with dazed or panicked expressions.

From what I observe,( and Ma-kun's not easy to lose sight of with his bleached blonde hair and his abominable throw-back to Miami Vice white and pink suit) Ma-kun seems to be indecisive, skittish, easily led astray from the way he's walking. Difting one direction then stopping, and rushing down another. He rubs his arms anxiously and slows down to a halt, and lurches the opposite way, and the cycle begins all over again.

We're walking in circles. This goes on for a while.

It may go on indefinitely.

Our Ma-kun seems 'misdirected.'

Is he impressionable? Not too smart? Easily spooked and pushed around?

Its likely. If he lets someone like Taki Aizawa call the shots.

I realize that Tohma probably prepped Ma-kun for me too. Toyed with him the way only Tohma can. Coldly and methodically. With professional and skillful indifference. Tenderizing his state of mind like a piece of meat. As I said earlier: Tohma likes to talk to people about their problems . I myself prefer the more hands-on approach.

Good.

I smile.

I love it when they're scared.

Because when people are scared, they make mistakes.

Ma-kun makes his final mistake when he makes a sharp left instead of a right.

Its down a quiet street, with a lot of convenient small and dark alleys.

Just my luck.

Finally when I see we're the only two people there. I approach.

I say behind him. "Not interested in shopping Ma-kun"

Old simple trick. Say someone's name. By instinct (and not being too bright), Ma-kun automatically turns around to see who it is.

Ma-kun looks startled to see thats its me. ( But I get that a lot.)

I ask. "Are you Ma-kun of the band Ask."

He tries to assess if I'm a fan- or a journalist. I know I don't look like either.

"Uh. I might be. " Ma-kun's eyes are shifty, like his body language. Nearly in flight-mode. He has a unpleasant voice, like that of a bull-frog and a slimy complexion of an amphibian. "Uh. Who's asking."

I grab him by the shoulder. "I'm asking."

" Yeah?" Ma-kun stammers. "And uh... who the hell are you?!"

Instead of answering that ,I shove Ma-kun back into the brick wall in the closest alley before he can yell. We 're between a grocer and a "Japantique" shop. Across the road, they're selling decorative paper. There is a small high-end sushi bar near by, hidden away down one labyrinth alley past this one. I happen to know it because its one of Tohma's frequent hot- spots , one I can't afford. (Even if I could afford it, they wouldn't let me in there. Good for them.)I wonder if that where Ma-kun's final destination was, if he was going to distract himself from his current woes with a nice late lunch, console himself with some toro and ikura and sake.

Not anymore. How quickly our plans change.

I say: "I could nobody or I could be someone that makes your life a hell." I go for the hilt of my knife in my pocket."Don't move. I'm armed."

I show him the handle. As far as Ma-kun knows, I could have a gun. Showing him the hilt has the desired affect.

Ma-kun looks afraid.

Not only that- he looks guilty.

It could be a unspecific guilt, an guilt caused by a long misbegotten deed in his childhood, or a guilt by association. While I don't know the cause , I recognize the look. I see it all the time- in the faces of so many people you wouldn't expect. Its the face that tells you he knows something he shouldn't. A face that says he has something to hide.

But don't we all.

" What do you want?!" Ma-kun yelps. "Are you mugging me? I uh- got money- "

"No." I say calmly. If only life were that simple. If only we were both fortunate enough to have such a brief and concise exchange. "I want your friend Aizawa. "

"He's...not my friend!" The other man gulps with a frog's ribbit. " W-What do you want with him?"

"We both know what I want. You've been recently involved with some things, haven't you Ma-kun? Keeping yourself busy with some disturbing business with your bandmate and your other pop star contemporaries. Is that why you're at the shrink? Did he help you with your psychological problems today?" I inquire in a low concerned voice.

" ...H-Have... you been ...following... me?" Ma-kun cowers back into the wall.

"But what else have you been up to lately Ma-kun. Why don't we catch up."I smile at him ."They say a picture says a thousands words. You must have a lot to tell me. Or maybe you're picking up some photography lessons on the side? Some very revealing photography? "

The blonde man croaks. "...You... you- know about that...?"

I let my charming smile drop. Slowly, threateningly.

"You've seen them- but how? He -only showed us the roll... and nobody else- " Ma-kun chatters. "Uh ! And I don't even know who you are! Listen- If you're in on it... in some way, you go ask Taki for your payout. Not me! "

"I'm not looking for a payout. " I say.

"Then what do you want?!" Ma-kun shakes his head frantically. "I uh- just don't want to be involved-"

"You cooperate and give me Taki." I tell him stonefaced. " You do that, I promise nothing will happen to you. But if you don't, I can't guarantee you anything."

Ma-kun sweats profusely, trembling. "I can't... I can't.. If you're a cop, its not my fault-I didn't have anything to do with uh... that okay?! It was all Taki's idea, yeah it was, now and again, he would mouth off some... crazy things but- I didn't know Taki would go through with uh- something like that! And to take pictures of it?! He even bragged about it- like he was proud ! The guy's out of his mind, he's crazy! I'm scared of him too- he's uh- threatened me -"

"I understand that, but I can be a lot worse." I say agreeably.

Ma-kun chatters . " Please-please, please, I'll do whatever you want. Please! I'll uh- cooperate. Just don't arrest me -"

" You'll cooperate" I nod. " but I'm not a cop."

Everyone lies to cops, but people don't lie to me. Not if I can help it.

"Then who are you ?! " Ma-kun wails.

I smack Ma-kun across the face. "I ask the questions."

Ma-kun gapes in shock and clutches at his cheek . " Jesus Christ ! You just... hit me!"

"Thats the general idea." I say impatiently. "And it will only get worse for you from here."

Ma-kun then tries to run but he's not fast. He's an inefficent runner, a zig-zagger and the type that won't attempt to fight back either.

I grab him by his blonde roots and slam his head into the brick wall.

Ma-kun shrieks with pain

"Not smart Ma-kun. Don't run. You know I'm armed so don't test me. Where are the photos." I slam his head into the water-streaked brick.

My other hand is gripped on his wrist. I wrench it behind his back.

"OW! I don't know!" Ma-kun struggles agianst me.

I jerk and twist his wrist again.

" OW! OW! OW!" He whines, nearly jumping up and down with pain with each twist ." They're with Taki! He keeps them!"

I growl into his ear. "Then where's Taki?"

Ma-kun babbles. "I don't know! I haven't seen him for a few days-"

From that, we now know Ma-kun is a liar. Not a good one either.

But not many people are.

The pictures were taken a day and a half ago. He already confessed to seeing the roll. Two reasons Ma-kun's lying: ethier he wants to protect Taki or he knows more, and wants to protect himself. Both are probably true.

Based on those probabilities, I slam his head into the brick again.

"Lets try this again. " I grit. "Where is Taki? Where can I find him? "

"I don't know! I swear! Goddamnit, please leave me alone! I didn't want to be any part of it, I never did- so help me God! " The blonde man bawls.

"Like I said. You give me Taki and I'll leave you alone." I announce (a half truth) " Or if you choose not to talk willingly, then you have some options left- I'll have two ways prying your mouth open- ethier painfully or very painfully."

Ma-kun starts to sob a little.

" But don't worry Ma-kun. " I assure him softly. "Nobody ever died of a little pain- "

Ma-kun interupts me. "Uh! No no no- If I knew I'd tell you but I don't know where he is!"

"Then call him. Get him for me." I demand. "Tell Taki to meet you."

"No, no, don't, don't make me see him- please, leave me out of this- whatever you think I did, I'm innocent- I'm being set up, you gotta believe me- you gotta believe me-" Ma-kun snivels.

Innocent of what I wonder.

But I don't have to believe anything. So instead of believing him, I let him go and kick him in the back of the knees.

Ma-kun falls to his knees in a puddle in some errant cigarette butts and with some colorful sounding language.

"This isn't the time to make requests." I say and kick him again, just to get the point across. I'm not feeling obliging. Today has already been stressful. "You call Taki right now."

Ma-kun groans and warbles, doubled up from where he is on the ground. "Ugh. And tell him what?!"

" I don't care. Tell him to meet for an impromptu jam session. No- " I change my mind. From what I know, Taki Aizawa is a gloater, a braggart. He likes to be flattered and to dwell on his successes. He likes women. Use what you know against him. Get him off his guard.

I instruct Ma-kun. " Tell him what you think he did- was smart. That you like it, you want to celebrate over it and reward him over what he did -with some exotic entertainment. Tell him to bring the pictures along with him because you want to see them again, just you and him."

"God no, I'm not going to say that!" Ma-kun cries up at me.

I raise my foot again

Ma-kun flinches . "Ok! OK! Don'! Don't- don't hit me anymore- I'll do it. I'll do it. "