Hiro's sick? How bad is it? Written in first person and partially third…I had contemplated making Eiri the one to receive my twisted tortures, what with his unhealthy habits and all, but figured that since I had tortured him a lot and I took the little Gravitation personality thing and turned out to be most like Hiro, followed by Ryuichi (get that) that I would torture Hiro cause I really haven't done that yet….Enough blabbering.

Two and a half million sales…three. It started around then, they figure, during one of our tours. Surprising how such a small thing can eat a person from the inside out, killing them slowly but surely…Hi, I'm Nakano Hiroshi, guitarist for the immensely popular group BAD LUCK. Shuichi's the main draw, and no, I'm not harping about him or our friendship or anything like that…it's just, I need to talk to someone, and he's busy planning for our next big move with K and Touma. Fujisaki's plunking notes on his keyboard and I don't think I could ever seriously turn to Sakuma-san for this. Which is why I got you…a stupid diary with little hello kitty's all over it…This is so not my style…but I guess you want the whole story, ne? Here goes…

I had been feeling a bit lethargic recently, but then, so had everyone. Touring was not easy business. Sluggish as I was though, I never botched a performance. I hadn't really been hungry, and if it wasn't for K I most likely wouldn't have eaten anything at all. I just wasn't hungry. When we finished I went home and collapsed, sleeping for two days straight.

Don't do that if you can possibly avoid it. It kills the back.

I had been hoping that the extended nap would take some of my almost flu-ish symptoms away, but no such luck. Some things just suck like that. I woke up still feeling slow and uncoordinated, and had developed a headache. Stupid me that I was, I didn't see a doctor. I had begun to visibly lose weight by the time we got together again a week afterwards, and K started in on me eating properly again. He may be insane, but he does watch out for us, I have to give him that. He ran through a list of questions he could have gotten from the back of one of those anorexia/bulimia pamphlets that the public health board posted occasionally, but none of the symptoms really matched me, so he gave up that avenue of investigation and ordered us all to go for supper together, just to make sure I ate something.

Stupid way to die, really, in a restaurant in front of god knows how many people. Another of those things that just plain suck ass. After practise we all loaded into one of the company vehicles, Shuichi sprawling across myself, Fujisaki and Sakano while K got behind the wheel as there weren't enough seatbelts. Not that I'm complaining…but K's driving…you need a seatbelt. We clung to him for dear life…his, not ours…as the car narrowly avoided hitting a semi, a minivan, two cars, a fire hydrant, and a lamp post or eight…

Don't start. I've given up on gaining Shuichi as anything more than a friend long ago. That doesn't change the fact that he _is_ my best friend and I would do anything he asked in a heartbeat, and, that in my own way, I do love him. I'm his best friend, and he's mine, even if he doesn't feel more than that towards me, I have learned that there are different levels of all consuming love, different types. I've also learned that they are all love, and never completely separate from each other. I do love Shuichi. Nothing will change that, ever. I know I was mistaken now, but then, then I was acting on my emotions, something I usually leave up to him. I'm the thinker, he's the doer. Yin and yang. Perfect set, part of one another…but he doesn't complete my circle. I guess I've stayed with him this long, and it's kinda become a habit…like those people that jump of cliffs with nothing more than rubber around their ankles, Shuichi is an adrenaline surge I cannot go without, but…I do have other entertainments, which, unfortunately, are _so_ not legal at the moment. I'm no pedophile, and I don't want to mess this up at all, so I'll wait the few more years it takes. It's not really that big an age difference, when we're eighty it won't matter. I'm patient…I have to be, to put up with the insanity that is my life.

So, back to bitching, we went to this restaurant. Not too fancy, but far from fast food. I really wasn't feeling well, and the smells from the kitchen nauseated instead of aroused my appetite. Not so for the rest of the troop, they could hardly wait to order. I looked at the menu, wincing, and eventually picked a half size garden salad sans dressing and a glass of water. I really was not up to this. I felt as though I would fall asleep at the table… which had been my state for the past month or so, so no one, not even myself, took real notice. My headache had returned full force and I drank the water as soon as it got to the table… I had been really thirsty recently too, but chalked it up to part of my having no appetite. Thirsty, not hungry, though drinking so much had it's natural results and I had to flush a little more often.

The water was good, fresh and ice cold, and tamed my headache for a moment. Only a moment though. I went to the washroom moments later with the un-disguisable urge to vomit…only water, dammit! I rinsed my mouth even though water is flavourless and left the washroom. I didn't feel any better on returning to the table under the concerned glances of all present. I glared as long as I could without this persistent headache hurting too much, a very effective three seconds it was too. Out of courtesy for the rest present, K took me aside, back to the washroom, and made me drink more water. I managed to keep it down.

"Can I go now?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose. God my head hurt.

"You have to eat everything you get, and I'll shut up, alright?" No one is dumb enough to completely ignore a tall, muscular gajin* waving a gun around in a public washroom, so K was not pleased when I just went back to the table anyways. The first of the meals had arrived, and mine came soon as well. I picked half heartedly, resisting the urge to puke with every mouthful, but dutifully ate the whole freaking salad.

I have never done anything that hard in my life! I was definitely not used to having something in my stomach and probably looked very, very bad if the looks my band mates were giving me were any indication.

"I'm taking you to a doctor tomorrow." K said calmly from across the table, everyone knew the comment was directed towards me. I didn't have the energy to put up any resistance, so I just nodded, wishing I was back home in my bed. God, this sucked. Suddenly, my entire stomach felt like it was going to explode. I'm sure I turned as green as the stuff that came flying out of my mouth not seconds after I pushed open the nearest stall door. This was too much! It fucking hurt! K was right behind me, holding my hair out of the way, but I didn't care. My vision blanked briefly and it was our manager that kept me from drowning in the porcelain bowl of yuck. I was beginning to like him there as he rubbed my back in small circles and held me as the heaving started again.

Shuichi came in just as what I hoped were the last of the bile and stomach acids came flying out. This was much more than a mere case of food poisoning, as I found out when dry heaves eventually brought up blood. It really didn't hurt too much anymore though…

"Sakano's calling an ambulance." Shuichi joined K in soothing my aching muscles and offering what comfort he could, even though his nose wrinkled at the stench surrounding us all. I did find his voice soothing, but I didn't have the strength to lift my head away from the seat, so I just lay on that cool surface until the wail of a siren broke my catatonia. K had gone to the door, leaving me to be supported by the best friends a guy could ever have…when had Suguru gotten there? I shook my head to clear my vision and try and banish the almighty headache from hell…and immediately regretted it as my body tried to throw up my intestines. It almost worked, more blood and some chunks came just as the paramedics arrived, pushing the other two members of BAD LUCK away to get to me. Guess there isn't much room in public washroom stalls. Who would have thought it?

I remember a bit about being lifted and placed on the stretcher, the cool hands of the paramedics heaven to my abused skin and the tube they put down my throat hurting like a bitch. My last conscious thought was that this really, really must be bad for the restaurant's business, having a member of the up and coming / already there BAD LUCK fall ill in their washroom and having to be carted off. I've said it before and I'll say it again…some things just suck.

* an uncomplimentary way to refer to someone of European background, usually American.

If anyone can guess what's wrong with Hiro, then you get a lemon, your choice of pairing… and my regard. Even though it's becoming more prevalent in North American culture, not too many people know the symptoms…and I have it, so I would know what they are. The physical manifestation is pretty much exactly as Hiro is describing it, though a bit more unpleasant in the legarthy and headache departments…

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