Haaaah! It's been so long O_O
Hi there readers (is anyone still reading this?) I have risen from the ashes… not really I just got my ass in gear and took advantage of my sudden inspiration. Sorry for the long wait, I know lots of people were left hanging *bows deeply* But I'm happy to inform that here is a new chapter and that the next chapter is already being written so it may not be as long (^o^)

A/N: I started to put some pieces together since lots of things were implied but not explained. Note that my writing is rusty and has also undergone changes. Also, almost the entire thing was written in the after midnight and it is not beta so any and all mistakes are mine, feel free to point me any mistakes but do so in a civilized manner. I don't like rude people.

Warnings: Nothing major going on. Rape (not graphic, more like a memory), some OOC maybe O_o

Disclaimer: I own nothing just my original characters. Oh and my new Virgo mug, it holds 12oz of coffee *joy*

Chapter 12: So help me God

Shuichi didn't want to let Tony go. He knew he was being selfish, irrational even, but he just didn't want his lifeline gone. However he knew that it would be too much to ask, Tony had his own career to look after.

Shuichi sighed and turned towards his lover's voice, "You'll come back soon, right?" It sounded more like a plea than a question.

"Promise," Tony embraced Shuichi, kissing the top of his head and rocking them both lightly, "I'll be back as soon as I get things straight. Now, would you promise me something?"

Shuichi looked up meeting Tony's gaze, mirroring his sadness, "Anything,"

"Promise you'll remember this," he ran his hands over the singer's body like he did when they made love, "remember my touch, the way I light your skin on fire, and this…" he kissed Shuichi in a way he had never been kissed before and it made him sob but it also made him strong because he had to be strong, if not for him at least for this man.

Once their lips parted the singer smiled, "Always…" and it was probably the most genuine smile Tony had ever seen.

One red haired guitarist contemplated his options. He could knock on Yuki's door and punch his lights out as soon as he saw the blonde or he could go there and demand a fucking explanation and then punch him. After a few minutes standing at the building's entrance deep in thought, asking himself if he had enough money in the bank to hire a lawyer and thinking about the repercussions of a criminal record, he calmly opened the door and headed towards Yuki's apartment.

The knock was soft, audible enough to make the writer walk all of the 13 steps from the sofa to the door. "Yeah," he said, "what the hell do you-"

Hiro stood at the door with a look that might make a puppy pee on your carpet, "You owe me so I'm here to collect."

Shuichi laid on the sofa, looking at the ceiling and lost in his thoughts. Takeshi, the ever so vigilant bodyguard, stood by the window.

The vocalist tried to organize his thoughts which proved easier said than done. Tony's departure had him uneasy, as if his safety net had been pulled from under him leaving him to walk the wire on his unbalanced feet with nothing to catch him if he fell. Then there was the matter of returning to NG, the thought alone gave him chills. And of course, how could he forget Yuki's letter; that damned white envelope hiding underneath a piece of furniture. He couldn't bring himself to even speculate about its contents. He sighed and stood up, Takeshi turned to him immediately, "I'm just going to take a shower."

It was true that Hiro opposed vehemently to Shuichi's relationship with Yuki, by vehemently I mean he absolutely abhorred the idea of his best friend attempting to have that cynical bastard of a writer love him – but of course he wanted nothing more for his best friend to be happy so he kept his thoughts to himself. This time Hiro intended to give Yuki more than a piece of his mind. "I'm going to be blunt, I have questions and you have answers. Now I'm not here to pity your sorry ass or to take your bullshit so I'll start with the one question I should've asked before even thinking of helping you: why did Shu left?"

Yuki met the guitarist fierce stare, "I don't know." The second those words left Yuki's mouth his back met the nearest wall, the impact forcing the air out of the writer's lungs.

Hiro had his forearm on Yuki's throat, his other hand fisting the crisp white shirt, "I think I said I wasn't taking any of your bullshit!" he snarled, "You did something to him, not your usual whoring around forgive me love and everything is okay shit. Something happened to him and it was your doing you fucking son of a bitch."

Yuki coughed and gasped for air, both hands trying to pry the red head's stronger arm off his neck. Hiro released him, roughly shoving the blonde to the side. He paced, one hand on his waist the other on his head, "Shuichi… I knew something was off with Shuichi, I've known for a while… I mean he came to work late and drunk and sometimes out of it…" he looked at Yuki, "What happened between you two?"

"I came home drunk one night, I had stopped taking my meds and going to therapy and had started drinking again… I was angry, my publishing company rejected one of my scripts and wanted me to "go clean" or I would never publish anything else with them and… well, things between Shuichi and I were not fairing any better. I got home drunk, pissed and he was… he was just there…" Yuki's voice was distant, cold even, as he recounted the events that would forever haunt Shuichi Shindou.

Shuichi let the hot water run down his back, he felt so tired, almost drained of all energy. He worked the soap over his body, feeling the tense muscles under his touch and he remembered Tony's parting words "Remember my touch" and he did, oh how his body remembered every touch, every caress, every kiss and bite and lick. Shuichi lathered his shoulder, his hand softly caressing the skin from his shoulder and down his arm, then back up again. He thought of Antonio, his strong hands running down his body, then up to grab him behind his neck, lifting his chin up with his thumbs to gain access to his throat, placing soft kisses along his jaw.

Shuichi was breathing hard, almost feeling Tony's hand… squeezing his throat, a fierce mouth biting his bottom lip until he felt his own blood gush out of the wound. That hand squeezed tighter then shook him, slamming his head against cold tile. Shuichi screamed, flailing his arms and falling, knocking the shower caddy that stood in the corner. He tried to escape the blonde man, but he couldn't. Yuki grabbed the singer by his small waist as he tried to crawl out of the shower, "Please… Please Yuki don't… haaah…!" his plea was replaced by a heart wrenching scream as he was forcefully taken by the one he loved.

Takeshi had kicked the door down, he found Shuichi in the shower, laying on his side and shivering under the cold water. The bodyguard turned the water off, he went to wrap the singer on a towel when he started to yell, "Don't touch me… don't touch me… DON'T TOUCH ME!" kicking and punching the man.

Mizuki walked inside the bathroom, grabbed a towel and ordered Takeshi to get out. She looked at Shuichi who had one of the most terrified expressions she'd seen. "Come here my dear," she said softly as she draped the towel on the singer, "It's alright dear, everything is alright…" He couldn't breathe, he was so afraid it seemed his lungs had forgotten how. "Breathe, dear… breathe." He trembled and gasped for air, "Come on now, slow breaths, deep breaths… That's it…" Shuichi clung to the old woman, sobbing on her chest. She rocked him, rubbing his back as if he were a child, "No one is going to hurt you, not here, not while I'm around."

"He… Y-yuki…" he shivered, cold and terrified.

"There is no one here. Come now, you are going to get sick."

Shuichi was suddenly aware of his nudity; he covered his lower regions with the towel.

"I raised seven kids, two adopted and five of my own, not like I haven't seen one of those." Shuichi blushed but Mizuki just grabbed another towel to dry his hair with.

"I'm sorry… I…"

"Not a word. I'm here to serve the young master but I'm also here to nurture a broken boy in his absence." She smiled, her eyes wrinkling in the corners. "Now, are you okay?" Shuichi simply nodded, "I'm going to get dinner started. You get ready."

Hiro sat on Yuki's sofa, his elbows rested on his knees while he buried his face on the palm of his hands, "How…" he sobbed, "How could you? You are an animal! I can't believe this shit…"

Yuki sat across from him on the floor, his back to the wall and a cigarette dangling on his bottom lip. His right hand grabbed at his own hair, guilty, angry, but most of all ashamed. He wouldn't say it but Shuichi's face haunted him every night, those violet orbs filled to the brim with tears, looking at him with such sorrow, such anger… and so much disgust. Yuki's heart ached, and he shed tears, "Don't you think I know that already?" he said, "Do you think I enjoy feeling like this or that I enjoy knowing how much I hurt him… I never wanted to hurt him, I lov-"

"Don't you fucking say you loved him!" Hiro kicked the coffee table, sending it across the room, ashtray and coffee mug along with it. "You hurt him, you ruined him… you fucking crushed him, do you not see that?"

"There is nothing I can say to you or to him that will change that!" Yuki raised his voice for the first time since they started this conversation. "There is nothing I can do to make it better! No amount of I'm sorry or I still love you will ever erase it! I don't need you to act as my conscience and tell me that I fucked up because I already know…"

Hiro grabbed the novelist by the shirt, lifting him up from the floor. He raised his left fist, ready to strike him right on his face but didn't, "You know what? You are not worth it." He released Yuki and headed towards the door, "I hope you get to experience every bit of the misery and pain he went through."

"Ne, Mizuki…" Shuichi walked in to the spacious kitchen were Mizuki stirred a pot while Takeshi chopped some scallions and carrots, "hmm, something smells really good."

"I'm making Miso soup, should be ready soon." She swatted Takeshi who was munching on a piece of carrot. At that moment Hisashi entered the residence, which meant Tony was in route to Spain. He felt his chest get tight.

Just as his tears started to build up his phone rang, "Hello?"

"Hey, Shu."

"Hey… what's up?"

"Hm, I know this is not the best time for me to be calling… anyways, I found your box."

"Oh… great."

"Yeah, but I can't make it to your place in the morning." Hiro wasn't ready yet, he needed the night to clear his head and then the morning to clear the inevitable hangover.

"Is that so…" that sounded just find to the singer, he was in no mood to see anyone so early in the morning.

"Tomorrow around 1pm sounds good?"

"Fine… see you then." The line went dead with a click. It was the first time in all the years the two had been friends a conversation felt this cold. Shuichi knew that a rift had formed between them because you see Shuichi unconsciously blamed Hiro for a lot of things.

A bowl of Miso was placed in front of Shuichi, "Eat up." Said Mizuki.

"Thanks, smells delicious." And it tasted delicious too. "Where is Takeshi?" he hadn't seen the man walk out.

"Oh, that boy is probably eating outside." She said, throwing a kitchen towel over her shoulder.

"Hm," Shuichi ate his soup slowly, savoring the simple yet exquisite flavor. "Is he your son?" he asked, drinking the remaining broth.

"He is. I took him in when he was but a boy…" Mizuki took Shuichi's bowl, placing it in the sink, "Found him wandering around the market all beat up and starved. Didn't say much back then,"

"That hasn't changed."

"Haha, I guess, but he said even less as a boy. He had the eyes of a brilliant boy, brave too. Don't be afraid of him, trust him, he has that protection instinct engraved in his brain. Makes him a loose cannon sometimes but I guess that's perfect for this kind of work."

Mizuki turned to her chores. It left Shuichi thinking, wondering about his purpose in life. What good had he done? He lived for music and when Yuki entered his life he lived for him too. He'd stopped caring about living for a while and now he found himself not knowing what to do.

Shuichi thanked Mizuki for the meal and headed to the garden. Takeshi sat on the wooden porch, leaning on his elbows and looking at the sky. "Do you mind if I sit out here with you?"

Takeshi stood up, "Of course not, this is your house."

Shuichi didn't like how Takeshi changed from relaxed young man to rigid bodyguard, "Sit down, keep doing what you were doing… what were you doing?" The singer needed to clear his thoughts and nothing better than silly conversation.

The bodyguard sat back down, "I was looking at the sky, sir."

"Drop the sir, it makes me feel old." He said smiling, "Were you looking at anything in particular?"

"Stars… they look very bright tonight."

"Yeah," Shuichi lay back on his elbow, mimicking Takeshi's posture, "It's very clear tonight."

They sat for while like that, staring at the stars in silence. "You're going to catch a cold," they turned to see Mizuki standing behind them, her hands inside the sleeves of her dark green kimono, "I made hot chocolate.

Both men stood fast, apparently hot chocolate could make one forget about stars.

Hiro on the other hand was chugging down his sixth beer with no immediate intention to stop. He felt as guilty as Yuki, just as ashamed or maybe worse. He tied all of the strings in his head: the bruises that although covered with make-up, were still visible. The times Shuichi would collapse mid-recording, and all the times he said "What do you care" to Hiro. Now things made sense and it pissed him off that he wasn't there for Shuichi.

He pointed to his empty bottle, the bartender quickly replacing it with another cold beer. How could he possibly look his friend in the eye? But that was then, now he had his friend back and he would make sure to apologize to him properly. He would make anything related to Yuki his business. He would help Shuichi shine on stage and off it too, "So help me God."