Most people would consider coming home to be the ultimate pleasure, especially if they were a musician. After a long branch of a tour; fifteen-plus hour studio sessions; physically and emotionally draining (yet fulfilling) concerts; or just any ordeal that involved leaving the house, being able to take comfort in a place that was all your own was a heaven sent. "Home Sweet Home," they did say, and how often were they wrong?

But things were different for Aoi. While falling into his own bed and getting some alone time was nice, coming home to an empty apartment was also a reminder of just how lonely he was at the end of the day. Things may have been different if he had a wife and children of his own, he reasoned, but as it was he enjoyed the experience of being out 'n about with his band and their staff, able to see and perform for his fans in as many locations as possible. The other Gaze guys seemed to appreciate their breaks a little more than he did and didn't often humor his requests for company outside of work related matters, so Aoi sometimes had to improvise when the empty space got to him.

Aoi's latest emprise was a local karaoke bar. It might not have been the most original idea, but he'd figured that such a lively place would liven him up, regardless of whether he had a buddy with him or not. Places like that had a tendency to bring strangers together, and Aoi had decided that pretty much anywhere on earth was better than his empty apartment.

He felt a little lame sitting by himself at the bar, though. There wasn't anyone else there -- they were all in parties at their own tables -- so Aoi felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. Would he be recognized more easily? The pink hair was a dead give away. Being picked out in a crowd hadn't happened all that often when he was able to blend in a bit better, but now that he was such a stand-out (in more ways than one) Aoi had a gut feeling that it was only a matter of time until he was accosted by a fan. Having to speak to fans one-on-one, especially when he wasn't in his stage persona, always made him a little uncomfortable. As energetic as he was in the band environment his true nature was significantly less charismatic. He worried that he'd accidentally offend someone with his somewhat stand-off-ish behavior in the real world and tried to avoid confrontations whenever possible.

It was as he was weighing the pros and cons of crawling back home that a young woman walked up to the bar. Or did she wobble? Aoi wasn't sure what the politically correct jargon to describe the gait of a pregnant woman was, but the woman was clearly pregnant, and so her walk wasn't as effortless as walking normally was. She maneuvered herself onto a bar stool two seats away from him, having some difficulty with that task as well. Aoi was caught between standing up to assist her and staying put, but he spent too much time debating and missed the chance to play good Samaritan. The woman settled after a moment or two regardless, taking a few deep breaths and looking around for the bartender, Aoi figured. With that came his second chance to play hero.

"I think he went to the restroom," Aoi said. His voice came out a little softer than intended but the woman still picked up on it, turning to him with her brows merging into her hairline. She was pretty, he thought, but looked a little too young for him. If he were only five years younger he might have been more excited about the chance encounter.

(And if she hadn't been pregnant, of course. It was pathetic how Aoi could overlook such a thing when he had relationships on the mind.)

"Oh," the girl supplied, her lips remaining parted. There was a pause. "I hope he washes his hands afterwards."

Aoi wasn't sure if it was meant to be a joke or a practical statement, so he just twisted his lips up and turned back to his drink. He hoped she was there to order a water and not a martini. At least the bar was smoke free.

Aoi could feel that the woman was still staring at him, and some shifty work with his peripheral vision clarified. He was pretty sure he knew what was coming next, so he just sat and waited for the inevitable.

"Hey," the woman's voice explored. Aoi looked over. "You're Aoi-san, aren't you? From The GazettE?"

And there it was.

Aoi smiled, one of his hands reaching up to tug on his earring. "Yeah."

He waited for a reaction and wasn't disappointed. The woman grinned, wide and genuine, and shifted her position so that she could face him.

"I can’t believe I ran into you in a place like this," she gushed, placing a hand on her expanded stomach. "I’m a big fan." Her gaze dropped to her developing child, and she caressed the bump once before looking up. "I lost my ity to you, you know."

At first Aoi nodded along, anticipating the short monologue as the sort of thing most fans said. When he processed the last sentence, however, he startled.

Maybe he had misheard her. Or maybe misunderstood her? Without being too lecherous about it, he scanned her up and down, playing the closest attention to her face. The entire study only took about two seconds, but that was all it took for Aoi to be sure that, if he knew the woman, it wasn’t well enough that he remembered her. And if he didn’t know her well enough to remember her, then he certainly didn't known her well enough to have slept with her.

Apparently Aoi’s face gave away his inner turmoil, because the woman let out a breathy laugh.

"I mean, I had a playlist of all the band’s ballads on in the background, so I was listening to you," she clarified. Aoi let out a breath, somehow feeling relieved. But the sentiment only lasted a moment; the woman's explanation made it sound as if it was all a precontrived plan for her to lose her ity listening to his band. That was a little…

Aoi didn’t know what to make of it all, but he did know that he didn’t want to dwell on it. He might have been letting his boredom get a little out of hand. There were very few of those completely crazed, fan-fiction archetype fans out there in the real world, and there was no solidified reason for him to label this woman as one.

But still, was it really necessary for her to tell him something like that? Wasn't it too personal? Was he supposed to be impressed?

"Well," Aoi said, wanting to redeem himself for his negative thoughts, "it’s nice to meet you, even if it was unexpected." He rearranged the glass in his grip before taking a large gulp from it. It was still half full.

The woman’s smile turned somewhat sheepish, and she seemed to find comfort in cupping her middle. "Actually," she went on, "I lost my ity using your condoms, too. And that landed me with this baby."

Aoi felt a pang in his own gut, one that hit him like one of his nephew's punches. She'd gotten a faulty ? Did that mean to whole batch had been bad? Were there more pregnant woman out there like this? Did they blame the band? Did the band deserve to be blamed? Were they going to be sued? Did this woman want to take legal action?

Reading his mind (or, more likely, his expression) the woman continued, "Don’t worry, I’m not upset about it. I couldn’t be happier, actually."

Again, Aoi couldn’t help but be relieved, yet at the same time tense. Even if that one woman was glad to have a child it didn’t mean that anyone else in her position would be. Selling those condoms as tour goods was supposed to stop that sort of thing from happening; there could be other girls out there without unwanted pregnancies or STDs because of the products they provided. How was he supposed to just let that go? Should they announce a recall or something?

"The way I see it," the woman began saying. Aoi was slow to tune in, his mind whirling in more directions than he could handle. "…it’s like you guys are the fathers of my baby. He was conceived by the GazettE in more ways than one. You were practically there for the conception, between hearing your voices through the music and feeling you watching from the posters. And I'm such a big fan and used your condoms but still managing to get pregnant... It's just too much of a coincidence, isn't it? It's fate. A miracle." She giggled. "A Gaze Miracle."

Her confession made Aoi’s tongue arch back into his throat in a heave. He took a moment to try to get a hold of himself before looking in her direction. She was as content as ever, rubbing the area above her protruding belly button, a serene smile on her lips.

No sign of humor. It wasn’t just another abominable joke. She could actually be some completely crazed, fan-fiction archetype fan. It was getting harder to give her the benefit of the doubt. She just looked too normal while saying something so cracked.

What the hell was going on? Aoi had to wonder if the woman's oddity was something new or not. Could his band be the cause for, not just her baby, but her psychotic break?

As much as Aoi wanted to flee the scene, he still felt at least partly responsible for the women’s situation, whether she was happy about it or not. He couldn’t leave without doing something.

Aoi in a deep inhale and brought a hand up to rub his brow. It was all too much for him. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t have his manager’s card on him, and he wasn’t about to hand over any of his personal information, not to her. His mind was buzzing, making it hard for him to think. Could he give her the company’s phone number? Someone there could probably connect her to whoever was supposed to handle the type of problem that was present. If they even had anyone to handle the type of problem that was present.

Aoi parted his lips, knowing he had to say something. He hadn’t quite decided what that something would be, but the women ended up cutting him off before he could say it anyway.

"I’m not saying that I want your money or acknowledgment or anything, and I don’t mean to imply that you purposefully made this happen. It just happened. So my point is only that it must have been fate, right?"

What did that even mean? How could they have "purposefully" made this happen? Did she think they knew about the defects and just didn‘t care? Or "purposefully" coated the condoms with their seed? If that was the case, they would have just sold vials of rather than condoms.

(Against his will, Aoi imagined the kind of hysteria that would arouse from the female fans if that were to happen. It would be the reaction to the condoms, times three thousand and seventy two.)

"I broke up with my boyfriend, too, you know," the women went on. Contrary to the usual mood associated with that sort of news, though, she appeared amused by the idea. Of all times for her to be amused… "He doesn't understand why I'm refusing to let him claim patronage of the baby. He doesn’t understand that he’s not the father, not really. He doesn’t get that my devotion is finally being recognized, that someone out there or up there or whatever sees that I'm the purest and most loyal of your fans, and that I'm the best choice to carry your offspring. On the birth certificate, I’m signing ‘The GazettE’ as the father. "

This time, Aoi was sure he wouldn’t be able to come up with anything to say if he tried. She had to be joking. Really. Was that even legal, to forge the name of a band on a birth certificate? At least she wasn’t going to try to forge his name only. God, he hoped she didn’t change her mind and try to forge his name. Or try to get him to sign his own name.

He hoped he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. This sort of fanatical phenomenon wasn't possible. Was it?

"But, I mean, it’s like I said, I’m not asking anything from you," the woman assured a dizzy Aoi. Maybe she was mistaking his sudden pallor for something other than traumatism. "Me meeting you here today was fate, too, so that I could let you know I've accepted this task. If we’re meant to meet again then we will. But other than that, I know my place isn’t to interfere with your life. I just have to raise this baby to the best of my ability and make him into a great man who will follow in his fathers’ footsteps. And I will, I promise you."

Aoi wasn’t just in shock any more, but a little disgusted. She made it sound like the baby was Jesus, and his band God. That poor child. And that poor guy who had been dating this girl. That poor guy who might never be able to meet his progeny because the child’s mother was, for lack of better words or diagnosis, insane.

Should Aoi call the police, or child services? This woman probably wasn’t capable of being a mother even if she would, apparently, cherish the baby as a bona fide gift from above. Was it his duty as one-fifth of a father?

The bartender emerged from a back room at that moment, immediately taking notice of his only two customers. He approached and asked if there was anything he could get them. Aoi was petrified where he sat, his stomach churning, but the expectant mother sent Aoi an understanding beam before addressing the bartender.

"No, thank you," she said, moving to get up. She settled on her feet, her eyes falling on Aoi once again. "I got what I came here for."

She reached out and grasped his hand. Aoi knew he should have had the instinct to pull away, but his muscles refused to move for some reason -- they were tingling and tight, and he couldn't feel his fingers. He was able to bring his gaze up to catch her wink, however.

"There’s a red string between us, Aoi-san. Don't forget."

And with that she was one her way out. Aoi watched her go, stunned. It was like seeing a ghost. He'd seen a ghost before. It was just as terrifying and surreal as he remembered.

When the mommy-to-be was out of sight, Aoi was able to float back down to earth. A part of him still wondered if it had all been real. Was his loneliness getting to him? Was that only his imagination sending him delusions as some kind of message from his subconscious?

It had to have been a dream. A day-dream. Aoi had been thinking about getting married and starting a family too much. His head didn't like it. His head wanted him to it up, keep playing music, and let his fingers take care of his every need.

Aoi faced the bar again. His was suddenly able to feel his body again, which was when he noticed that he had been numb in the first place. He felt like he was made out of lead, but his skull was full of helium.

Desperate for some kind of diversion, Aoi squinted up at the bartender, who was watching him, looking as concerned as a stranger could be. Aoi answered the look with a sluggish shake of the head. His eyes lowered, and he took in the details surrounding him.

"I'll have another one," he said after a moment, motioning to his beer. It was still one third full, but that didn't seem like nearly enough anymore.

Whatever his subconscious (or maybe fate) was trying to tell him, Aoi had reached his own conclusion. He was never having again, regardless of whether or not he ever got married. They could just adopt. And who knows? That kid may just be his spiritual spawn anyway.

Suddenly, Aoi's empty house and life of romantic solitude was looking better than ever.