Jiyong's hair was getting longer and longer as he spent less and less time in the dorm with us. He'd work day and night at the recording studio on his solo album in Korea while making phone calls or confronting the Japanese album producers about lyrics in Japan. When we had free time off our schedules in Japan, Jiyong would just sleep like a dead man in his room and warn me not to bother him. Judging from his blood-shot eyes and dull skin, I knew better than to disobey.

I wanted him to be happy, but he seemed only tired and stressed. I wanted to comfort him, I really did, but now the roles were reversed and Jiyong was the one giving everything into solo promotions while I was left alone. The difference between Jiyong and I was that he didn't need me for help or support on solos. He was the real adult, I wasn't.

Even so, I was going to help him. I wanted to be useful and give him back the comfort and affection that he had given me all these years, even when I didn't want it.

I bought some books in Korea and brought them back to Japan with me to read. Some were how-to books on being successful and bringing positive energy, like Winning Habits and The Business Note of a Mentor, full of quotes and inspiration. Another book I bought to help out Dad with the family debt was Start Studying Economics Immediately, and then I bought I Love You But I Won't Love You on a whim.

I stacked them all up in a pile at my desk in my dorm room and quietly read through them while I had down time.

In the end, I'm not really sure the books helped me much, but I tried new tactics with Jiyong anyway. He'd just smile when I would tell him about the little facts I was learning.

"Hyung."

Jiyong was in the small kitchen area at our Japan dorm heating up a cup of ramen. He nodded his head to acknowledge me walking towards him while keeping his back facing me.

"Hey Seungri," he replied rather dully, keeping his eyes on the time left on the microwave. I looked over at the cupboards above Jiyong's head.

"I want to eat with you."

"Sure, whatever."

The microwave hummed and beeped and Jiyong carefully took out his styrofoam cup of hot water and sat down at the cream-colored sofa in our little living room. He set down the cup on the end-table in front of the sofa and surfed the channels on the tv.

"Yah, get me a napkin."

I rolled my eyes, suddenly thinking of a chapter I read in that business book about good customer service.

"Sure, hyung. Do you need something to drink too?"

He smirked, still pressing buttons on the tv remote.

"I like this."

He kicked his legs up on the end-table and placed his ramen in his lap, finally content with the channel, airing an anime series.

"Huh?"

"I'm the prince and maknae is my slave."

I almost dropped the water bottle that I was getting out of the fridge.

"I'm what?"

He leaned his head back and laughed, patting the seat cushion beside him.

"Yah, hurry up and eat with me."

I scrambled along the kitchen space to get to my own bowl of ramen waiting in the microwave and sat by him. We ate side by side, shoulders touching, watching cartoons battle with robots and explosions that I'm sure Jiyong didn't even know to translate. We were too lazy to get out the Hangul-Japanese dictionary.

After the episode ended, we put up our dishes and I cleaned at the sink while Jiyong wiped down the end-table in front of the sofa that had some spills on it. He was really stringent about the hostel dorm being clean.

I started sweeping the floors when Jiyong nearly belly-flopped into the couch. He lay out on his stomach with his legs dangled over the arm rest at the end.

"Aaaagh~ Kimochii~," breathed out Jiyong into the cushions, practicing his Japanese. "Feels good."

"Don't sleep there, hyung. It'll hurt your back."

Jiyong groaned and kicked his feet back and forth over the couch's edge.

"The prince can sleep wherever he wants."

I sighed, stowing away the broom and dust pan into a closet. I made my way over to the couch to get him to move.

"Seungriyaaah. Let me stay here."

I plopped down on an empty corner space of a cushion, close to sitting on him.

"No hyung. Get up. You can't get hurt."

Jiyong chuckled.

"Aww. My slave cares for my well-being."

I rolled my eyes, resting my hand over his back. Jiyong was silent for a moment.

"Yah. Could you do me a favor? As Seungri, not as my servant."

"Sure, hyung."

He pursed his lips together in a straight line, looking down at the floor with his head propped up onto his hands.

"Could you...stay here for awhile?"

He twisted his neck around to look at me. He had that familiar sad look in his eyes again and kept quiet. I nodded and he looked relieved, laying his head back down into his folded arms.

Do something good for your fellow employees. Show them that you care, I thought as I stared blankly at my hand still resting atop Jiyong's back. I picked up the hand and carefully glided my fingers over his back, tracing circles and rubbing at parts of the back over the thin cotton of his shirt that felt tense. He let out a deep breath and settled himself more deeply into the sofa cushions.

"Is this okay, hyung?"

"Its perfect. Don't stop yet."

The word perfect echoed into my thoughts. Its perfect.

I wanted him to happy. I wanted to be perfect for him. In the silence of our little living room, sitting on the cream-colored sofa, I smiled to myself and noticed that he was smiling too.

A/N edit: Gri's dorm in Japan, Ri's books, and the slave comment ;) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oo1Q3moZb4E