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Touru Ootohri.

Until that very day, Keigo Akamaru didn't know how much that name would mean to him. He sat in solitude backstage, as his bandmates and best friends Ken and Kyou got their instruments out of the car. The two insane men were very superstitious, and believed it bad luck to store instruments backstage before a show. Whenever they'd start on that superstition bullshit, Keigo usually just tuned them out.

He stood and walked toward the black curtain, parting it with his clean, uncalloused hands and peered out into the audience. His band, Darkwave, attracted all types. From where he stood, Keigo could see a girl in all pink with neon magenta hair standing next to a girl with pitch-black hair and an inverted cross on her forehead. Yeah, Darkwave attracted all kinds. Everything under the sun in Harajuku.

Suddenly, Keigo noticed a different sort of face in the crowd. This one wa small, pale, and delicate. Riddled with scars and bruises, mostly covered up by thick makeup. It was the face of a beautiful young girl, about thirteen or fourteen-looking. She wore a PVC corset, tight velvet-looking pants, and spiked armbands, plus a collar with a silver bell that made no noise as far as Keigo could hear. It seemed like the club had grown unnaturally quiet as the girl stared at him with those clear blue eyes, like fresh water flowing into an empty river.

Keigo sensed motion behind him. He turned to see Kyou looking at him with a stern expression.

"Now, Keigo-san." he stated clearly. "You know very well that peeking at the audience before a show is bad luck. What were you thinking?"

"That.... I was bored?" Keigo replied, putting Kyou on the spot. "I can't stand any more of your fucking superstitions, man."

"Hey, whatever!" Ken soothed, slinging his guitar over his shoulder. Ken was Kyou's twin brother, but they looked nothing alike. Ken's hair was pitch black, and very long, tied into a ponytail but spiked up at the top. His style was simple and elegant, like the silk black shirt and deep blue jeans he was wearing. Kyou, on the other hand, was much more extravigant, in his black tank top, spiked collar, and tight, destroyed jeans that showed thigh and ankle galore. His bright red locks were sticking up in odd angles as usual, his grey eyes rimmed with the lightest black eyeshadow.

"You're the one freaking out, Keigo-kun. Are you okay?"

Keigo didn't know the answer to that. He wasn't feeling his usual, chipper self; not since he'd seen the girl. And her blue eyes were still haunting him. He shook his head and grabbed his headset and guitar. "Let's do this thing."

Ken and Kyou nodded. They parted the stage curtain from either side, revealing Keigo first. The youn singer stepped out onstage, shortly followed by Kyou and Ken. Ken stood poised, bass in hand, and Kyou sat at the keyboard, fingers ready. Keigo stepped up to the front of the stage.

"Hello, ladies and germs!" he screamed, raising his hands in the air. He was met with several yells and cheers of apparent approval. "Okay, so I hope you're all having fun this weekend! We've worked really hard on this set, so we're praying you people are going to like it...." Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl plunge to the floor in a dead faint. He panicked and pondered over what to do. He trid to speak more, but all that came out was a stutter. Ken and Kyou looked at him questioningly.

Decisively, Keigo leaped off the stage, gathering the girl in his arms and darting out the door, a thousand screaming goths and punks streaming behind him.

Keigo thought quicky and ducked into an alleyway, watching the shrieking fans run past him. He still held the girl in his arms. The girl stirred, turning on her side, her head laying in Keigo's lap. Keigo glanced downward, along the hemline of her pants, and realized with horror that this was not a girl. How could he think it was? No, this was most definitely male, for Keigo didn't think that girls had that extra baggage. Keigo flushed a deep red as the young man fluttered his eyelashes, his eyes opening.

He sat up. "W-what happened?"

Keigo smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You passed out."

The stranger groaned. "Not again..." He tried to stand but fell back into Keigo's arms. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Keigo Akamaru. Lead singer of Darkwave, at your service." Keigo wanted to bow but couldn't very well sitting down. The stranger did not smile but bowed his head.

"I'm Touru Ootohri. Nice to meet you." Still no smile.

"Hey, how old are you? You look like you're sixteen."

"I'm nineteen. But I consider myself old for my age." Touru finally smiled. It was a beautiful thing. "Sorry I fainted. I do that a lot. I'm diabetic."

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

"It's all right. I don't care." Touru's smile dissapeared once more.

"Didn't you take your insulin shot this morning?" Keigo asked, trying not to pry.

"No. My mom doesn't let me sometimes.... she can be.... difficult." he looked down at his scar-ridden arms.

"You can't be saying... that your mother, your own mother, gave you all those scars?" Keigo asked, concerned.

"Not just her. My dad, too."

Keigo wrapped his arms around Touru in a hug. The younger man stiffened.

"Sorry." Keigo gushed, embarrassed. "I hug random people. It's a problem I have..."

Touru shook his head. "That's fine."

"Hmm.... you need to move out of your house." Keigo stated matter-of-factly. "You're too old to be forced to stay with your parents, right?"

"I have to. My mother sats that if I leave she'll hunt me down and kill me." Touru confessed, looking at the ground. He was still sitting on Keigo's lap. "I'm too scared to leave."

"That's ridiculous! Isn't there anywhere else you can go?"

Touru's eyes fulled with tears as the great blue river turned into a waterfall. "No." He stood unsteadily. "I'd better go." He started to walk away.

"Wait!" Keigo called after Touru pitifully.

Touru turned, his sleek black hair glinting in the dull moonlight, the PVC of his corset also shining as if calling Keigo to take it off. Keigo dismissed these thoughts from his head immediately and continued.

"You..... your parents are that violent, yeah?" he asked, moving closer to the timid young man.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. But it's not as bad as you think. Hey, I'd better go, or they'll lock me out again...."

"Lock you out?" Keigo repeated in bewilderment. "It's below zero out here! It's the middle of December!"

"They don't care." Touru replied, gazing at Touru with his liquid cool eyes again. "They don't want me... all I do is mess up. I know that. It's my fault..."

"No." Keigo scolded, grabbing Touru's arm. "It's never your fault. Look at you! You're sick from being left out in the cold, and you're covered in wounds!" To prove his point, Keigo pulled up Touru's sleeve. There was a long, still-fresh cut along his arm, from his wrist up to his elbow. The cut appeared to be sewed shut with something... maybe fishing wire, and Touru's pale skin was reddened all around the cut and where the fishing wire was threaded into the skin.

Keigo looked up at Touru. "They did this?"

Touru nodded, tears coming to his eyes. "Yeah. My mother was busting me for failing a test at school. She took the knife from the counter where my father was cutting peppers, so it burned. Then, as if she was a little girl playing doctor, she cut, nice and clean, and then took out the fishing wire." His voice broke and he started trembling. "She attatched the wire to a sharpened chopstick she'd used on me that last day. And she sewed my arm back together. It hurt so much, I fainted again. I faint a lot, ever since they started beating on me." He was now shaking uncontrollably. "My doctors say that I'm a serious case, and that all my insulin reactions are caused by stress." Keigo wasn't sure what to do, so he stepped forward and embraced the younger man, letting him sob on his shoulder. Passerbys stared, some even stopped to gawk at the sight of the two men embracing, one crying and beaten, the other in stage attire, including light eyeliner and some blush so he didn't look dead onstage.

"Keigo...." Touru whispered.

"Touru...." Keigo pulled away slightly and looked down on the thin young man he was holding.

"This is so weird...." Touru tried to pul away but collapsed against Keigo's chest again. "I don't even know you...."

"Come here, hun." Keigo said kindly, scooping Touru into his arms and carrying him down the street. "Come home with me. You'll be safe."

Touru closed his eyes and whispered. "Thank God."

- - -

Touru awoke to the sound of pots and pans clanking. He sat up and realized that he must be at Keigo's apartment, for bits of musical equipment lay everywhere. Sunlight streamed through the window above Keigo's bed, which, Touru reasoned, he must be lying on. He felt too comfortable for comfort and realized that Keigo had taken his clothes off (probably to wash them) and that he was now wearing an oversized black t-shirt of Keigo's, which reached his knees because Keigo was almost six feet and Touru was just a little taller than five.

Touru yawned and stretched, getting out of bed and stumbling down the hallway blearily. In the well-lit kitchen, Keigo was preparing breakfast, wearing what looked like the t-shirt Touru was wearing only in white and his black boxers. Touru tried not to stare as Keigo put a steaming bowl of miso soup in front of him.

"Eat up. We're going to court today."

"What?" Touru spit out the miso he had already put into his mouth.

"I called the cops last night, of course. Your parents can't do that to you. Especially since you're over the age in which you have to have a legal guardian. No sir, they can't keep you there against your will. I'm charging them for abuse. After that you can stay here."

Something in Touru's eyes awoke. "Really?"

Keigo nodded happily. "Don't ask me why, but I love having you around. It's like when you're here, my mind can finally rest and everything's okay. Wars stop, rain clears, grey skies turn blue.... it's like hell turns into heaven, but it goes right back to hell when you leave."

Touru blinked. "That.... was the best thing anyone's ever said to me."

Keigo smiled. "I meant it. Now, eat up. We leave at noon, and you kinda woke up late, so..."

Touru glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty.

"What? Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

Keigo sort of blushed, looking away from Touru. "To be perfectly honest, I've been awake for the past hour watching you sleep. You're very cute."

Touru went red. "Erm.... thank you....."

Keigo smiled pleasantly. "It's true." he pointed to Touru's clothes, draped over the back of the couch. "How do you wash those, anyway? There's so many buckles and chains on them, if you welded it all together you could build a car."

Touru rubbed the back of his neck. "It's an art." He touched his forehead, realising that the foundation he'd been wearing was gone. "You washed off my makeup?"

"Yeah.... it's not good to sleep with all that crap on your face." Keigo pointed out. "Why do you wear that anyway?"

Touru's eyes half closed. "That too, is an art... the art of visual kei!" he had to stop himself from leaping onto the table.

"Hmm.... well, I guess it's just not my cup of tea."

"I can let you borrow some of my CDs if you want." Touru offered.

Keigo smiled. "I'd like that."

Touru smiled in return, his first real smile since he was about five, and wondered what living in this house with Keigo would change in his life, and in himself.