Summary: Shuuichi pays a stranger to write the lyrics to a song he's supposed to write; then terrible things start to happen to him--could there be a connection?

His heart beat rapidly and his palms were sweaty as he sat at the bar, a blank piece of paper in front of him. How could he have gotten into this predicament again? You'd think he'd learn to keep his mouth shut, but no—he had to go on national television again and boast he could easily write the lyrics to his songs. He couldn't! He had no talent, no talent at all! And Yuki refused to help him out; he had to write the song, due this week, on his own, and he couldn't think at all!

"Well hey there; you seem down in the dumps, anything I can help you with?" Someone asked to his left, and he turned to see who it was. Shoulder length blond hair and green eyes, dressed in jeans and a baggy shirt, the person next to him was a woman stranger, and he tentatively responded.

"Who are you?"

"Call my Saya. You look like you're having trouble with something, anything I can help with? What's your name by the way?"

"Shindou, Shuuichi Shindou, and...um..." He looked at Saya wearily, wondering what she was doing here talking to him, a stranger when she grabbed the paper in front of him; a blank sheet of paper except for a few crossed out words.

"Trying to write something?"

"Yes, a love song." Shuuichi said, taking the paper back, a frown on his face. Then he sighed. "I'm supposed to have this finished this week, but..."

"Maybe I can help you, I'm not an expert but I write poems all the time—it shouldn't be too difficult for me to write a love song." Saya smiled and waited for Shuuichi's response.

"Really? I...will it be a good love song?"

"I guarantee it'll be better than what you have written so far." She chuckled and indicated the scribbles on the paper, at which Shuuichi turned red and was about to turn angry when Saya continued. "C'mon, of course it's gonna be good, I'm taking a class on creative writing and poetry in college and even had a poem of mine published."

"Really?" Shuuichi's eyes widened and a smile crept on his face. "Then can you write it? I...but...could you not tell anyone since I'm supposed to write it myself...?"

"Don't worry, of course I won't tell, but..." Her smile left her face and she placed her hand over her mouth.

"But what?"

"Not having the song under my name isn't good for publicity—I'm trying to make it as a poet so I need my name out there...why do you need this song?"

"I...I'm in a band and I told everyone I'd do it."

"A band? Really? Ah, yes, you do seem familiar, I think I heard of you—what is the band's name?"

"Bad luck." Shuuichi said holding in his annoyance that Saya didn't know who he was—it just proved he had to work harder to get more fans and publicity.

"Ah! Really? I knew I saw you before, to think I didn't remember that cute pink hair of yours—I guess that's what happens when I spend too much time studying and not enough relaxing and listening to music."

"You must be working hard in college."

Saya nodded then picked up the paper and pen, her attention still on Shuuichi. "How 'bout you pay me two thousand yen now and then, based on how successful this song is, you pay me more later."

"Two thousand yen...for a song?"

"It's reasonable—besides any of those professional song writers charge by percentage of what the song makes, and they wouldn't allow what they write to be used without them getting the credit."

"Then why are you?"

"I'm not in the professional category, I'm just starting out thus I can't charge so much."

"Makes sense." Shuuichi reached into his pocket and took out the money, counted the amount wanted and gave it to Saya. "Here, write it, now, quick as possible."

Saya quickly pocketed them money and then started writing, blocking the paper from Shuuichi's view. Twenty minutes passed before she finished, and handed the finished work to Shuuichi. After he took it, she turned away and left the building, not waiting for Shuuichi to look it over and comment.

The thought that he could've been had just flashed through Shuuichi's mind when he saw Saya walk away, but vanished as he read what she'd written—it was indeed a love song; and it was better than anything he ever wrote.

Two weeks later:

Shuuichi grinned widely as he read over the reviews of the new song—the new song that had his name tagged on it as the lyricist; it had taken a while to convince Hiro and Fujisaki that it was his work—even though it wasn't, but the girl had agreed to keep quiet, so he could claim it. Any qualms he had about using it were quickly forgotten when he saw the reviews.

"I can't believe how you did it, Shuuichi, but that song was excellent, it's nothing like the other songs you wrote." Hiro said, reading the reviews himself.

"Are you sure you were the one who wrote it?" Fujisaki asked in disbelief, at which Shuuichi hyperly exclaimed:

"What's that supposed to mean? You don't think I can write love songs? You think I lied?"

"Well, this song was a few time better than what you usually write—and, well, are you sure you didn't have help from someone else?"

"It's all mine." Well, I bought it from her so it is mine. Shuuichi narrowed his eyes at Fujisaki's continued disbelief and would've yelled at him if Hiro hadn't spoken.

"There was a blue moon two weeks ago, so that could explain Shuuichi's surge of talent."

"That must be it—unless the real Shuuichi was abducted by aliens and this one is a fake."

"I don't care what you guys think, it's my song."

Later that day, after work:

Gleefully, Shuuichi made his way home, to his and Yuki's house—really only Yuki's house but they lived together for so long he considered it his as well. Humming his new song, he reached and placed his keys in the door when he heard footsteps coming from either side of him. Fast, unfamiliar footsteps that sent shivers up his spine; the next moment three people surrounded him—one of them placing a knife to his throat.

"Make a commotion and you're dead." The one with the knife growled in a hushed tone and pressed the blade closer to Shuuichi's throat.

"Wha...what do you want?" Shuuichi asked in a small voice, trembling all over—he first thought was of shouting for Yuki in hopes the blond would hear him but then he remembered his lover had a book signing out of town today and wouldn't be home until midnight.

"Let us in the house and stay silent."

"Uhm..." He gulped and did as the person said, the keys nearly falling out of his hand once or twice from his trembling. Once inside, the person with the knife pushed him down to the floor and ordered one of the other two to stand guard while he searched the house.

Walking silently around the house the two not standing guard searched for money and valuables, checking every room in their search.

Ending his search satisfied, the one with the knife pocketed a wad of bills and headed for the door while the other one continued searching picking up every item of value in the house.

"You should stick with cash—it's not so easy to trace."

"Shut up, I'm getting as much out of this as possible."

"Suit yourself. I'm set, so I'm gone. See ya."

"Whatcha gonna do with the brat?"

"Nothing. You figure out what you're gonna do. I'm outta here before there's even a chance of getting caught."

Five to ten minutes later:

An anonymous call to the police station sent a police car and ambulance to the house, where the remaining two thieves were getting ready to leave—after tying Shuuichi up and turning on the gas, situating the pink-haired man right where the gas blew into the room.

Just as the two thieves left through the front door, the police caught them and then the paramedics searched the house quickly finding Shuuichi, tied up and already on the verge of passing out from the fumes.

Elsewhere, ten minutes later:

His blond hair blowing from a soft breeze, hand cramped from writing autographs all day, Eiri Yuki sighed and lit a cigarette, thankful for the small break from his fans. He couldn't wait until the day ended and he was home relaxing with a cold can of beer with the brat.

Before he inhaled once on the cigarette his cell phone rang and he looked to see who it was.

Tatsuha? What does he want? Don't tell me the brat's locked himself outside again. He thought bitterly, remembering the last time he was out of town at a book signing—the brat had locked himself out and waited outside in the rain until he returned from the signing. The brat had nearly caught pneumonia that time and ended up making Yuki miss his other signings in order to care for him.

Sighing and putting out his cigarette, he answered the phone with a brief what is it?

"You have to return home now, bro." Tatsuha's urgent voice interrupted Yuki before the blond could finish his brief sentence.

"Tatsuha, why? What's..."

"Shuuichi's in the hospital. Some burglars broke in your house when he was there and..."

"I'm on my way." Yuki quickly replied, hanging up, his heart skipping a beat at the words Shuuichi and hospital—he didn't need to hear the rest.

Barely taking the time to tell the person in charge of the signing he was leaving, Yuki jumped in his car and sped toward home.