Title: Soul of a Healer

Author: Caer (caerfreeREMOVETHIS@tde.com)

Author's Note: Even though I know some of you like it, I do not like, get, or want Ryuichi with Tatsuha. He’s a cute kid, but I just don’t like that pairing. Partially, it is because I’m a rare pairing snob. No run of the mill pairings for me thank you... most of the time. But also, I just don’t get it. I just don’t see the attraction. But that’s just me. You won’t ever see that pairing from me. I do apologize.

Rating: PG

Warnings:

Pairings: TohmaxRyuichi

Status: Ongoing (Part 2)

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

~~

"It’s so scary. He was standing right there, and suddenly he wasn’t. The music was so loud, we didn’t even hear the gunshot." Noriko’s muffled voice could be heard through the door of the dark bedroom where Yuki sat.

"Did you see anyone?" Tatsuha had said that.

"They couldn’t have. The lights are way too bright to see anything in that crowd," came Hiro’s sensible voice.

Yuki scrunched his eyes shut, taking another drink of bourbon, as he sat at his desk trying to drown out the voices in the other room. Shuichi had invited everyone over to talk. Yuki had said "no", but the adorable little brat didn’t even listen. He never did. So the author had escaped to the other room with the excuse of needing to write. He wasn’t ready to talk to anybody yet. Well, that was status quo. He never wanted to talk to anybody. But right now, he needed to be alone. He did not need half of the music industry sitting in his livingroom drinking his beer. But Shuichi needed people to talk to and Yuki wasn’t the one for that kind of thing. He had enough trouble expressing his own feelings, let alone trying to deal with those of his overly sensitive lover.

He let the voices blur into noise as memories began to come unbidden. Tohma had always cared for him, always protected him. When he was 16, after he had shot Yuki, Tohma had taken him home. The pills he had taken had made him too sleepy, though he tried to stay awake. He lay in the throw of vivid nightmares and a feeling of sickness as he lay in the back of Tohma’s locked car, waiting. Once the blond had returned, he had held Yuki close, whispering comforts and stroking his hair. He had asked Tohma what he did. Possibly, screamed it, until he had broken down in tears, clutching onto Tohma’s sweatshirt until the drugs finally claimed his shattered consciousness.

When he had awoken in their apartment again, it had been days. He had been cleaned up. He smelled like fresh soap and shampoo. Tohma had fed him something sweet and made him take more pills. Then he sat in the bed next to Yuki, pulling him close once he began to remember what had happened. He had started trembling. He couldn’t cry anymore, but he couldn’t talk. He was too shocked to talk. He lay in that state in Tohma’s arms, clutching the young man’s T-shirt in a vice-like grip. Tohma’s voice cut in through the roaring of his ears.

"You listen to me Eiri-san. You are not to blame. Do you understand me?" He had pulled away and stared deep into Yuki’s eyes, a horrible cold light in them; something Yuki had never seen before. "I should have been there to pull the trigger myself Yuki. Not you. You were protecting yourself." He had pulled him closer, hugging him almost too tight. "We can’t tell anyone, Yuki. It would hurt you too much. I wish I could take you to see someone, but I can’t. " His hand had shaken as he ran it softly through Yuki’s hair. "If you need to talk, you’ll have to come to me, all right?"

Yuki had simply nodded. Only the two of them could ever know. For a month, Tohma barely left the apartment, spending every waking moment with Yuki. They didn’t talk about it much. They played video games and watched movies. They ordered a lot of pizza. Yuki threw himself into writing as much as he could. It was his only outlet besides Tohma. Unfortunately Tohma bore the brunt of his pain and anger, but somehow, they made it through the hardest part, and when Mika returned with her lover from Spain, though he knew he had changed, he could keep from her, what had happened. Though he was pretty sure she had eventually figured some of it out on her own.

Yuki shook the memories away, taking another drink of the burning alcohol, enjoying the way it stung his throat on the way down. He had been very unkind to Tohma. In a way, he had blamed Tohma, merely because there was no one else. He had blamed him for taking him to New York, for hiring Yuki as his tutor, for not getting there sooner... but it was just his anger speaking.

Tohma had known this and had loved him, unconditionally, even when he had refused to return to Japan with him, shouting insults and declaring he hated the man for ruining his life. He had hurt Tohma countless times, because, he was the easiest one, even punched him once. Still, Tohma had weathered through it, never losing his fierce affection for the young man. When he and Mika had finally left for Japan and Yuki had a chance to think about things, the anger slowly faded.

Yuki had realized Tohma wanted him. He had known him long enough to read his body language and his actions .He knew that the blond would watch him when he thought Yuki wasn’t looking. Hell, he had even milked it a few times, walking out of the shower in low-riding cargos and nothing else, dripping wet from the shower. Tohma would almost immediately excuse himself, claiming an appointment or a need to get to the office.

But he had never touched the author in anything more intimate than a tender hug, or a familial kiss. Even when they were close and he could see Tohma’s hands trembling, the older man had never taken advantage of the moment. A few times, Yuki had wanted him to. Until Shuichi had come along, Tohma had been the only other man he trusted intimately.

But he had never told him.

Yuki massaged his temple slowly, trying to ward off a headache. The voices in the other room were getting louder as more of his beer disappeared, he suspected.

"I just don’t understand. Who would want to kill Seguchi-san?" Shuichi said.

"The question is who wouldn’t want to kill him! I want to every day and I consider him a close personal friend!"

That voice was new. It was K. Yuki immediately stumbled from his torpor and his chair and opened the bedroom door, staring at the newly arrived manager. Everyone turned, including the brash imposing American, and stared at the writer, hanging in the doorway, wearing black sweats, his hair mussed. K smirked and shrugged his jacket off, hanging his holster on the coat rack but keeping his favorite gun in his hand for style.

It took Yuki a couple of seconds to find his voice again. When he did, it was shaky and unused.

"How is he?"

K nodded at the writer, speaking to him, even though everyone was waiting for the

answer."He’s better. He went home this morning with Ryuichi."

"Will he be safe there, K?" Noriko asked worriedly. Kei smiled.

"Don’t worry!" He said grandly, holding his semi-automatic up high. "I told the plainclothesmen around his house, what would happen to them if they failed! HAHAHAHA!"

The entire room could have won an award for synchronized sighing whilst hanging their heads at that remark.

Tohma awoke to the slow steady pounding of dull pain in his heavy head. Slowly he chanced opening his eyes, relieved to find that the room was pleasantly dark, with just a trickle of sunlight sifting through the drawn blinds. Deep gray shadows cast upon the walls in jutting corners of dull color seemed to indicate that it was morning, sometime after

dawn."I’m late."

Tohma took a breath and tried to prop himself on his elbows. Why had he slept through his alarm? That wasn’t like him. The room was still blurry in his sleepy eyes, but as he looked around, he started noticing that this room was looking less and less like his house, though whose it was, he couldn’t imagine. A hotel? He spent so little time at home, he was used to waking up in strange places, but not to being unaware of where he was. Pain shot through his shoulder as he lifted himself and he gasped. It was enough reference though, to bring back his memories of the hospital and his wounded head and shoulder, though he still didn’t have any memory of being shot. He tried to get up, but his body was so sluggish. He dragged one leg from under the dark green blanket and onto the floor, pushing the covers

away.Suddenly, the door creaked open and Ryuichi ran in.

"No, no no! Tohma needs to lay down."

That’s right. Ryuichi had offered to let Tohma stay there while he recovered. He let the overly motherly singer push him back down. He relaxed when he remembered where he was, though he didn’t really remember getting here. His leg still hung off the bed uncomfortably and he pulled it back up. Looking around, he now recognized the large master bedroom. Ryuichi had only owned it since he came back to Japan, but already, it was comfortably decorated with pink Kumagorou memorabilia here and there.

Ryuichi was leaning over him, looking at him with worry, his childlike eyes wide and shiny.

"It’s okay, Ryuichi, but I do need to go to the bathroom," he said softly, smiling.

"Are you sure?" Ryuichi asked seriously, holding his shoulders and staring intensely into Tohma’s eyes and grinning. "You’re not going to do something mean like sneak out are you?" There was worry in those blue eyes. "When we brought you home, you kept trying to go back to work. But K and Sakano can handle everything. Really."

Tohma stared up at his friend, confused. Did he do that? He didn’t remember. Still, he smiled gently, trying to assuage his friend’s worry. "I promise," he said quietly. "I doubt I would get much done in this condition anyway."

Then Ryuichi produced one of his amazing joyful smiles and the childish singer jumped on his knees on the bed, bouncing Tohma in the process.

"I’m so happy! The doctors said you can’t do any work for two weeks! So you get to stay here with me and play! Kumagorou even made breakfast, he made pancakes and orange juice and bacon and..."

Tohma couldn’t help it. Ryuichi’s joy was infectious. He felt a comfortable genuine smile creep onto his face and he realized how long it had been since he had spent any time with his old friend. Ryuichi stopped and Tohma started to chuckle softly.

"That sounds wonderful," he replied, relaxing. Ryuichi smiled and grabbed his good arm, helping him out of bed. Tohma found that he was dressed in an oversized pink Kumagorou t shirt and his underwear. He looked up at Ryuichi, to stare into wiser older eyes as Ryu smiled at him knowingly, his childlike persona gone for now. Tohma blinked.

"Ryuichi?" he asked, perplexed.

"This time, I get to take care of you." His hand tightened around Tohma’s waist and the blond gasped softly.

"After you poddy, then we’ll have breakfast right?" Ryuichi smiled. "Tohma needs to eat more."

Tohma laughed, shaking his head, unable to hold his mirth for his worldly, uncomprehendable friend.

The others had gone and now, Shuichi, Yuki and K sat on the couch. Shuichi was sprawled on the couch, his head in Yuki’s lap.

"Yuuuukiiiiii. I drank too much," he whined, holding his belly. Yuki looked down at him coldly. "As usual. Don’t whine for something you brought on yourself, idiot."

Shuichi’s eyes got big and watery. He turned and crawled up, clinging onto Yuki’s arm. "But Yuki, you’re supposed to take care of me! I’m trying to be all cute and cuddly!"

"And green. If you throw up on my couch, you’re buying me a new one."

"Hmph." Shuichi sat on the floor at the end of the couch, sticking out his tongue and crossing his arms. "You’re so mean." He moaned again sickly and held his grumbling stomach.

K just stared on, amused. He was a lot like Ryuichi.

"I wanted to talk to you alone, present company excepted."

"I figured as much." Yuki sighed, looking down at his silly lover, sitting curled up, his flushed face resting on his knees, his eyes scrunching as he tried to deal with an upset tummy. He sipped at his own drink conservatively. "Do you know who did it, then?"

"Not quite yet..." the blond replied gravely. "Though we did make an arrest." Yuki looked up, interested. "A man was found leaving the hall, carrying a gun. It matches the bullet type of the slug we found lodged in the speaker, the one that grazed Tohma’s skull, and it’s missing the right amount of bullets."

"I see." Yuki said quietly. "What’s the problem then?"

"For one thing, they haven’t run labs to make sure the bullets came from that exact gun. For another thing, the man kept babbling your name. He said you’re the killer if anyone is. Apparently he was sure Tohma was dead already."

Yuki’s hand tightened on his glass, but he forced a sarcastic laugh. "I’m a killer? I don’t even own a gun. Besides, I have an alibi, and absolutely no motive."

K raised a hand. "I just want you to know that you could be questioned. The police have no reason to suspect you of anything. You’re a popular author and this guy doesn’t have all his marbles. And unlike you, he seems to have plenty of motive. However, he did say some rather disturbing things about Shuichi and you and I thought I should talk to you."

Yuki’s eyes narrowed. "Can I ask who this guy is?"

"I’m not supposed to disclose this," K replied, "but I think you ought to know. The man they arrested, was ASK’s lead singer, Taichi Aizawa."

Ryuichi had sat him on the floor, propping him up with pillows against the sofa and serving him breakfast on a small TV tray in front of Saturday morning cartoons. Tohma took a bite of the overly syruped blueberry pancakes and grimaced. Usually he had coffee in the morning and that was it. He hadn’t had anything this sweet in a long time. His stomach protested and Tohma put his fork down, taking a breath and sipping some of the orange juice instead. Ryuichi was beside him on the floor, on his stomach, his chin resting on Kumagorou and his knees bent with his feet swinging to and fro as he watched TV. He looked over at the clink of the fork on the plate and frowned.

"Tohma-kun, eat, eat. You’re too skinny already." He got to his knees, clasping his hands and looking quite young and hopeful, even at 31 years of age. "You like my pancakes don’t you?"

Tohma smiled, his eyes closing. "Of course. They’re very good," he said sincerely. "It’s just that I don’t usually eat breakfast.

He got blinked at. Blink. Blink. Far too cute.

"No breakfast?" Blink. "No breakfast. That can’t be good for you." Ryuichi said, a serious look on his childish face. "No wonder you’re so sad all the time, Tohma!! You need lots of energy to be your best and sparkle bright, bright!"

He grabbed the fork and stabbed another piece of pancake, rubbing it in syrup and placing it to Tohma’s lips. "From now on, you eat breakfast every day, right?"

Tohma looked at him quietly. "Ry.." A piece of pancake pushed it’s way into his mouth.

"Right. Good answer." Ryuichi smiled. He fed Tohma until he had quietly finished an entire pancake. It was intimate, Tohma thought, the way he studiously cut each peace and gently fed them to Tohma, watching him quietly chew each morsel. Neither looked away from the other the whole time. The noise of the TV became When Tohma was beginning to feel like he couldn’t possibly force any more down, Ryuichi nodded in satisfaction and removed the tray from Tohma’s lap and replacing it with himself. The blond stiffened only a little. He was used to Ryuichi being cuddly and close, especially when no on was looking, though he hadn’t been alone with the singer like this in a very very long time. Mika hadn’t allowed it.

Tohma couldn’t help the fond smile at Ryuichi’s childlike closeness as he rested his hands carefully on Tohma’s shoulders and settled into a loose hug, laying his chin on Tohma’s uninjured right shoulder. "I was so scared, Tohma. You looked all broken and little when you got shot. I was afraid I would never see you again."

Tohma patted Ryuichi on the back, awkwardly. "Please don’t worry yourself. I’m okay now Ryu."

No you’re not, Ryuichi shook his head pulling away and staring into confused blue eyes. "You remember when you used to come play with me at the hospital?"

Tohma nodded.

"And you told me that you’d take care of me, and we’d sing songs and color and play games?" Again, he nodded. "And when I said I wanted to be a famous singer and you said you’d make that dream come true? And you worked so hard. And I told you that I loved you, but you never listened?"

"Ryu..." Tohma tried to speak, but Ryuichi put a hand on his mouth.

"I do know what I’m talking about, Tohma. And I’m not stupid and I’m not a child, and I’m not crazy. I know what love is," he said, answering Tohma’s retorts from long ago. "I wanted to take care of you too, but you wouldn’t let me. And you got broken somehow, without my knowing. And I could only watch while you died inside, giving yourself to everyone and everything, but never giving in to anything you wanted, and purposely wanting things you knew you couldn’t have."

Tohma couldn’t talk, but he shook his head. He didn’t want to hear this. His eyes flashed and he felt a cold anger building. He wanted to shut Ryuichi up. It wasn’t his concern. How dare he lay Tohma’s weaknesses bare like that? He began to raise his hand. He knew that if he slapped Ryuichi, it would shut him up and he would never say anything like that again. Tohma would put him in his place. But as tears began to well up in the childish man’s eyes, his hand froze at his side.

"I’m tired of it, Tohma. You don’t even seem to care that you almost died, because you’re almost dead inside anyway," he yelled. "I’m tired of watching you slowly kill your own heart, poisoning your body and weakening it, with all your medications and your coffee and not sleeping or eating or being happy."

"All those years I told you I loved you, you said you could take care of yourself, but you can’t. Because you’re stupid! Stupid stupid, Tohma. So now you’re going to shut up and let me take care of you because I don’t want you to die!"

That yelled, Ryuichi removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth, kissing Tohma desperately and wrapping his arms as tightly around the other man as he could, one arm over the good shoulder and the other around his waist.

Tohma’s lips were slack and didn’t respond as Ryuichi’s moved over them desperately, his tears falling heavy and fast and making the kiss taste salty as he sobbed, his shoulders shaking and his hands fisting in Tohma’s shirt.

‘I didn’t realize,’ he thought. When had he pushed Ryuichi so far away? Ten years ago? And all this time, Ryu had stayed with him, watching him, being his bright light while he paid attention to everything else.

He brought his hands up slowly, one to rest on Ryu’s hitching ribs, the other to fist in his hair and pull his head sideways to rest on his shoulder as he continued to cry.

His very best friend, he had pushed so far away until he was another face in the crowd. His best friend in words, but otherwise just a means to an end. And with one strike, Tohma had been ready to push him away forever, all for a false pride; when all Ryuichi wanted to do was help him.

When the dream had started, it had all been for Ryuichi. Tohma had wanted to make his dream come true... both of their dreams. He had fiercely defended the claims from everyone that Ryuichi was stupid, or retarded, or crazy. But at the same time, Tohma had pushed him away, thinking that he was just a child inside, that he couldn’t be capable of real love.

Just a child. He wasn’t a child. He wasn’t stupid, mentally challenged or crazy. He was just Ryu...ichi. Like his image stood, ‘The Worldly Ryuichi’ and that he was. Tohma had sold that image with fervor, and yet never stopped to really consider it himself, always caring for him as if he was fragile, as if he was incapable of normal feelings.

"Oh, Ryu." He hugged the sobbing man close to his chest. "I’m so sorry. I should have thought..." He kissed the soft brown hair gently, tears beginning to form in his own eyes. "I’ve really made you unhappy, haven’t I?"

Ryuichi mustered a smile and shook his head. "I’ve been very happy singing with you and Nori-chan." He put a hand in Tohma’s soft blond hair. "But I’ve waited a really long time for a chance to make you happy again. I’m... I’m..."

Their lips were close and wet from tears and this time, Tohma initiated the kiss, moving his mouth gently over the singer’s full, moist lips, savoring the taste, realizing how sweet the naïve, childish singer really was. They pulled away slowly and Ryuichi finished his sentence.

"I’m tired of being untouchable," he whispered. "I don’t want to wait for you anymore."

TBC

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