I do not own the lyrics "Hunger" by ASP. Nor do I profit from using this song for my chapter titles. Remember, this be fanfiction. Not real. For free. Enjoy~
Dangerous Play
Chapter 16: Trapped Without Cure
"You'll be trapped in your disease and I am not the cure..."
“
Well, that went well,” Sin said with a smile – then stretched out luxuriously. “But it's good to get back into more comfortable clothing... although, I gotta say that the costumes are amazing this time around! That's Kisaki's touch for you, I guess!” Asagi eyed the ever cheerful Sin and wondered where the man's everlasting enthusiasm sprang from. It was several weeks after their short break, and the regularities of life had taken everyone into a whirlwind of activity. The pace had increased – the pressures climbing as the new band Syndrome began to accumulate a small following. There was much to be hopeful for – and no room for second-guessing or weaknesses. Not that Asagi was feeling particularly gloomy... Not that I have anything to be gloomy about, amended Asagi with a grimace. I have a singing career in the making, a great man to work with... and a growing name for myself. All the rest of it... Here, his mind veered away from the memory of Kisaki's tongue on his nipples the night before. There other things as well... Such as the increasingly odd behaviour on the part of his lover/band mate/boss. Something is up, Asagi sighed. Ruiza-san has been fretting even worse these days... and the stresses of going major are looming as we become more and more popular. What are people thinking about us? Are our work relationships strong enough to withstand the pressures of tour life? How are we taking care of ourselves physically? All these kinds of things to consider – and Kisaki seems to be in his own little world. And dragged you into it, another part of him had to point out in an annoying fashion. You're never going to get out of it. You'll just be another fuck-toy until he's bored and by then, you'll have a name for it – and the only gigs you get from now on will always have these kinds of strings attached. Also... there's Ruiza... Ruiza was smoking more often now, Asagi noticed – watching the short blond light up yet another cancer stick. Asagi frowned and then sighed. It's not like I can lecture on unhealthy lifestyles anyway. But... Asagi's dark eyes noted the small sharp details which seemed to stand out. Sharp bones, the loss of weight, the dark circles and the nervous twitch. Kisaki wasn't the only one with shaking hands, Asagi guessed. And it was a little unnerving to consider that this was their main guitarist – and their manager. In this kind of state... how far can we go? “
... of course,” Sin was still chattering on about the costuming. “there will be better fabrics then -”
“Ah?” Asagi turned. “What? When?”
“I was saying there'd be better fabrics when we get backing -”
“Backing...”
“Yeah... you know – when we go major!” Going major, eh... Asagi tuned out Sin's cheerful chatter as he considered the future. It's something I have sacrificed almost everything for, Asagi bit his lip. Something I expected – an assumption, I guess: to think there was a future... but perhaps Ruiza is right... perhaps, it was just a dream. Just a butterfly's dream...
-0-0-0-
Kisaki, later on that night, watched Asagi strip down silently and slip into their bed. It wasn't so new now – the sharing of the bed – and Asagi had quickly learned the value of silent obedience in this matter. Without further ado, the vocalist let the bassist draw him closer into a warm embrace. For a moment, they lay there in the dark. Then: “
You seemed a little... out of it today,” Kisaki murmured into the back of Asagi's neck. The vocalist stiffened. “
I'm sorry,” Asagi apologized almost automatically.
“It is nothing to apologize for,” Kisaki's voice seemed light, but there was a slight tinge of annoyance colouring his words.. “Just wondered what that was all about.”
“I guess... we all are under pressure...”
“... true...” Kisaki's reply was short.
“Ruiza-san doesn't seem to be all that well,” Asagi hastily pointed out – in case Kisaki thought his comment was a slur on Kisaki's own state of health. “I thought with his new lover, he'd find some sort of equilibrium... but... I guess, with all the busy-ness, it's been put on hold?”
“Sometimes you have to give up things for the sake of the future,” Kisaki pointed out.
“Hmmm... but at the cost of yourself?” Asagi softly replied. The vocalist fell silent then, as he realized that he could very well be talking to himself on this matter. Asagi sighed – and then stiffened again as Kisaki's fingers wandered down the side of his ribs. There was a slight trembling in the touch, but Asagi didn't mention it. “
Collateral damage,” Kisaki whispered and then kissed Asagi's shoulder. “We will risk it all together, won't we?” He bit down on the soft skin leaving a mark where his lips and teeth had been. “
If we go down,” Kisaki smiled. “We'll go down together.”
-0-0-0-
When Asagi finally fell asleep, Kisaki raised himself up on his elbow to watch the serene face of his vocalist. His vocalist. Asagi was his. It still raised a protective feeling within the bassist. Asagi for all his elegance was still naive. Still innocent in many ways, he thought. There were so many things Kisaki wanted to show him... But time was running out. Kisaki could feel in his bones. In the tensions and in the sharp glances of Ruiza. The young man was no man's fool, after all – and no doubt was suspicious about Kisaki's behaviour. Still... there was a part of him that was so stubbornly tenacious. He wanted to keep this moment for ever. This man at his side. This promise of hope. Even if it meant an eventual downfall so great that it would destroy their careers - So it would be his secret. Shaking hands and visits to the doctors. Nervous pains, heartburn and all. Leaning sideways to his nightstand, Kisaki fished out some pills and swallowed a few of them quickly. Leaning back, he drew Asagi closer to himself. A part of him regretted the whole circumstance – the dependence of his equilibrium on the pain of another. I am sorry, Asagi-kun... But this is how it must be. Even if only for me to hold onto my dream for one second longer...
-0-0-0-
Syndrome's lead guitarist bit his lip as he stared at the paper which Shion had given him. For the first time in many weeks, he had the chance to slip away and double check the address. It was the key to the mystery of Kisaki's lying... and increased disappearances, he was sure. But of course, the promise of what he would find haunted him. Another deluded boy toy? A mistress? A wife with a family? Another perverted club? For the past few days, Ruiza's imagination had worried over the possibilities. More than ever he found his cigarette stash in his pocket empty – and he knew that Asagi's eyes noticed this as well. So, this for my peace of mind, he told himself. Asagi doesn't need to know if it turns out to be something as bad as I think it is... That weekend, while Kisaki and Asagi disappeared yet again for one of their extended “dates”, Ruiza found himself on an empty grey street. It had just rained – the concrete spotted still with wet patches. Above, the skies seemed lower with yet more rain. Pedestrians who had been shopping scurried quickly from shop to shop, evidently hoping to return home before the next rainfall. His eyes jumping from small shop to small shop, Ruiza counted the street numbers upward. The buildings above the shops – seemingly endless skyscrapers – were also busy, he knew, with the businesses of Tokyo. Teeming with office workers who never saw the light of day as they worked in front of their computers. Thinking on that kind of life, Ruiza felt, suddenly, rather thankful for his line of work which enabled him to meet so many different kinds of people from all walks of life. All of us bound by our love of music, he smiled softly to himself. It may be frightening at times – but vistas are endless... Then, there it was! The building he had been searching for. Entering a rather luxurious lobby – free of any shops or tiny stores – Ruiza found a snazzy register on the wall. Carefully reading through the long listings, the guitarist wondered what Kisaki had come here for. There were five companies for microchips and other esoteric technological equipment. A company for textiles. A dentist's office... Ruiza was quite sure Kisaki hadn't gotten his teeth done lately. A law firm. More promising. Two stockbrokers. Believable. Another health clinic which had an “occupational therapist” and a couple of psychologists... Ruiza considered the concept of Kisaki visiting a psychologist. It's not within the realm of impossibility, he conceded. In fact, I'd be the first to suggest him to get help... still... I guess, I'll just have to ask around. His eye was caught by a perky secretary who was chatting on the phone with someone. Drifting closer, he could catch phrases like 'karaoke' and 'party'. With a smile, he watched as she hung up – and then Ruiza approached. “
Hi there,” he smiled. The girl looked up and then paused. After a moment, she smiled back, cheeks pink. Ruiza's grin broadened, as the guitarist tried to maximize his cuteness factor by a couple hundred degrees. “
I kinda... need some help.”
“Sure,” the secretary nodded. “How can I help you?”
“Well... I wanted to know... perhaps you've seen this person?” Ruiza fished out a photo of Kisaki and Asagi together.
“Ahhh....” For a long moment, there was no response. Ruiza glanced at the secretary anxiously, wondering if there was any way she could remember such a person after seeing so many people every day. What was I thinking? He groaned to himself. This is impossible! “
Well... he kinda looks familiar,” the girl smiled, pointing at Kisaki. “His friend is cute though!”
“Uhhh... yeah...” Ruiza wanted to snatch back the photograph – but didn't want to come off as rude.
“Hmmm... I think I've seen him more often lately. Goes to the ninth floor.”
“Ninth floor. Okay. Thanks!” Ruiza dashed off to the elevators.
-0-0-0-
The next day, Asagi decided to slip into the studio for a bit to practice his vocal scales. Kisaki had found the regular exercises annoying – and Asagi was more than happy to find some alone time, even if it was only in the studio. It was quiet in the small room that Kisaki had found for them to practice in – but comforting. Here, Asagi remembered why he had begun this whole adventure. Here, there was music, unadulterated – to him, untarnished. After the usual scales, trills and vocal exercises, Asagi tried out a few of Syndrome's newer songs. The lyrics he sang were interesting - and the tunes were created for his voice and skill... yet... For the first time, Asagi wondered what it would be like to sing about what he felt was in his heart. The questions in life that he wondered over... the feelings deep down which he could never vocalize. Kisaki, as the manager, had the ultimate say in what was creatively produced by Syndrome – and for the most part, Asagi had no complaints. For the most part. However, although Sin enjoyed what kind of place Kisaki had brought them to – Asagi wondered what world he could enter would he have the key. The key. What was the key? Before he knew it, an hour had passed. Asagi, feeling rather accomplished, shut off the lights and, closing the door behind him, paused at the sight of a familiar guitar sitting on the chairs in the hall. Ruiza-san. “
Ruiza-san's here?” Asagi blinked – and looked around. There was no sign of the short blond.
-0-0-0-
The tall vocalist found his friend on the roof, sitting on the edge of a concrete block, smoking a cigarette thoughtfully. Asagi shook his head and sat down beside Ruiza silently, withholding an almost automatic scolding. The young man, lightly dressed in the still cool weather, seemed to be in another world. Together, they sat in silence. Gazing out onto the city vista. Ten minutes passed. “
Something on your mind,” observed Asagi softly. “Anything I can help with?” Ruiza glanced at the vocalist in surprise – as if suddenly seeing him there. “
Nothing you can help me with,” was the short reply.
“Ah.” Asagi dipped his head and, putting his hands in his pockets, hunched his shoulders, slightly disappointed. “Sorry to bother you then,” he said stiffly.
“Wait,” Ruiza's light hand stopped Asagi's rising. “Sorry.” He sighed then, letting out a large cloud of smoke. “It's just – so complicated.”
“Hm.”
“It's not even about me.”
“Hm.”
“I mean, I am involved in a way. As are you...”
“It's our band? It's us?” Asagi's dark eyes were troubled as they slowly rose to meet Ruiza's. “I'm sorry -”
“No.” A beat. “
Never mind,” Ruiza huffed, suddenly finding Asagi's pussy-footing annoying. “It's Kisaki, okay?”
“Oh.” Asagi drew back. There as another, shorter silence. “
He's going to a psychologist.”
“Who?”
“Kisaki.”
“How do you know?” asked Asagi carefully.
“I went there.”
“You went to a psychologist?” Asagi blinked. “You are not feeling well? Feeling unhappy?” His slim hands suddenly gripped Ruiza's arm. “Don't tell me... you want to leave this life for a better one?”
“What?” Ruiza laughed then, short and bitter. “No. Not me – Kisaki-san.”
“Kisaki-san is suicidal?”
“Who knows?” Ruiza shrugged. “I'm not the patient. And the doctor isn't telling. You know – confidentiality... But... it's troubling if he has to go to such a doctor. Have you been noticing anything odd.... er... about Kisaki-san?”
“I... I don't know...” Asagi frowned. “He's... well... very private.”
“I thought you and he were together,” Ruiza's eyes glanced at Asagi sharply. Asagi blushed. “
We – we are... it's just not that kind of a relationship,” he admitted. “I would be more than happy to know him better – but... still... It's not like we're boyfriends or anything...” Asagi trailed off.
“Then what is it?” Ruiza demanded.
“You'd know better than me.” Ruiza drew back at Asagi's bitter tone. Tilting his head, he watched as Asagi turned away to sigh heavily in the wind. The guitarist knew better, however, than to comment on it. “
Well, whatever you have – or don't have -” Ruiza shook his head. “It's got a time limit. People in this kind of business, when they break, tend to fall hard.”
“He's taking medication, I think,” Asagi noted absently. “I could find the name for it and we could work backwards to see how bad this could get.”
“Yeah. I'd do that if I were you.”
“What? Aren't we in this together?”
“To a certain extent,” Ruiza nodded, then shrugged. “But you're the one whose ass is in danger.”
“Kisaki is careful -”
“For now.”
“It'd never get that bad,” Asagi protested. “He's... complicated but he does care. Really. Besides, I wouldn't allow it.” Ruiza looked askance at the vocalist – but held his tongue. Although he knew that Asagi meant well, the guitarist had a feeling that things could and would get worse before anything got better. And it's not me who's going to be the most damaged person here... My career will be in ruins... but Asagi is risking even more.
-0-0-0-
“
You're late,” Kisaki's soft voice froze Asagi just as the vocalist set down his bag on his small couch. “Where were you?”
“At the studio, practising.” Asagi turned away, moving to the kitchen ever so aware that Kisaki followed him, eyes dark and hard. Kisaki leaned against the wall, watching as the vocalist filled his kettle and set it on the slowly heating stove top. Donna hopped up on a chair meowed demandingly. Asagi petted her head for a moment and eyed the cats' dishes. After a second, he filled up the water bowl. “
You know how my voice coach tells me I need to keep my voice flexible.” Asagi paused, set down the bowl and turned back to the kettle, then added, “I guess things ran later because I bumped into Ruiza, so we hung out a bit, talking – and -” Kisaki ended Asagi's sentence with a hard slap followed up by another back-handed one which reddened Asagi's face and sent the tall vocalist reeling back against the kitchen counter. His hand automatically rising to cradle his cheek, Asagi looked up at Kisaki confused. “
We – it's true!” He protested indignantly. “I thought I'd practice and -”
“And what about me?” Kisaki growled. “Hanging around all day waiting for you to get your sorry ass home is not what I think constitutes this relationship. Am I a housewife that you can just dismiss? Someone you can so easily forget?” Asagi's face, already flushed with the slaps, reddened in indignation. “
Of course not, Kisaki-san -”
“Kisaki-sama,” corrected Kisaki forcing Asagi up against his small counter. “What did I tell you?” Kisaki's hand fisted in Asagi's shirt, lifting the light vocalist up slightly onto the counter. Before he could protest, Asagi found his thighs parted by Kisaki's hips. Glancing around the small corner of the room, Asagi bit his lip. Getting fucked senseless on his kitchen counter was the last thing he wanted to do. Kisaki, however, had other plans in mind. Trying to ignore the tightly grasping fingers of Kisaki's fingers on his thighs, Asagi attempted to make himself a little more comfortable as Kisaki's mouth assaulted his own. The bassist would have none of it. Feet barely resting on the floor, Asagi found himself balanced precariously on the edge. His hands scrabbled along the slick surface of the counter top – until Kisaki's hands caught his and pinned them above his head to the cabinets behind his head. Whimpering as Kisaki's lips punished his own – teeth nipping, lips bruising – Asagi tried to find more purchase only to find himself suddenly flung – without warning against the tiny fridge. He found himself falling – legs buckling – and the last thing he saw was Kisaki's foot coming down.
-0-0-0-
When Asagi's eyes opened, there seemed at first to be nothingness. Then, as his senses slowly returned to him, the vocalist realized that he was blindfolded. A few seconds later, panic set in – Asagi couldn't lower his arms from restraints which held him up on his knees. The blindfold wasn't budging – and neither could he! After a moment, Asagi forced himself to calm down. Carefully, he assessed his situation. The soft surface below his knees – that was his bed. Not good. The cuffs holding his wrists were padded. Not so bad. Above his head, he guessed the hook once placed there by Kisaki was finally being used again. Just the memory of what had happened previously brought on a cold sweat. Asagi focused on breathing. Once he had calmed down again, Asagi tested his movement further. His legs were also restrained – keeping him from moving upwards or sideways. Somewhere, there was a sound of soft rustling movement. One of his cats batted at his skin playfully. Kisaki... “
Kisaki-sama...” Asagi tried to twist around. But there was no response to the name. It was unnerving – the silence. Heavy and filled with things that Asagi could only begin to put a name to. When a hand finally trailed down Asagi's back, the vocalist nearly jumped out of his skin. Panting hard, he fought back tears as he realized that he was totally naked and vulnerable. “
Kisaki-sama -” Asagi begged, trying to inject some sort of apology into his voice. “Please -” Kisaki's only response was a warm hand on Asagi's cock. It felt foreign and blistering on his skin – Asagi moaned as Kisaki's slow stroking sent tingles of arousal throughout his body. His response was ready – Some thing slipped around his balls – Asagi bit back a cry as Kisaki tightened his favourite cock ring around the vocalist's erection. “
Tell me you want it,” Kisaki whispered harshly into the vocalist's ear as his fingers bruised Asagi's hips, digging into the skin. Scraping. Drawing blood. The fingers wandered further down to spread Asagi's ass. “You know you do.”
“P-please – I – I – “
“Suck,” Kisaki commanded, slipping something long and hard into Asagi's mouth. Asagi complied immediately, understanding quickly where the foreign object was most likely to go. The better lubricated something was, the better off for him. A lesson well learned, but often learned the hard way. Kisaki didn't let it linger long in the vocalist's mouth, preferring those delectable lips to be more busy with something like his own cock. After teasing Asagi a little, Kisaki slipped the sex toy into Asagi. It wasn't as big as some of his other favourites – but it would do the job. The vibration was switched to on and Asagi's breathless responses hardened his cock further. Under his hands, Asagi's hips arched upward, displaying his glorious arousal even more. When Kisaki stood and jerked Asagi's chain to press the vocalist's face against his own hardened member, Asagi understood immediately. Kisaki delighted in Asagi's apparent enthusiasm. Carefully taking in the bassist's cock, Asagi's tongue ran up and down the warm member, teasing Kisaki in a most satisfactory way. Kisaki's balls tightened in pleasure as Asagi's lips deftly kissed, as his teeth nipped and scraped – as his tongue played along his growing erection. Kisaki had not expected to find pleasure so quickly – but it came: a glorious white daze – riding Asagi's mouth, hands clenched in Asagi's long hair. The bassist pulled away, gasping, with Asagi's name on his irreverent lips.
-0-0-0-
Asagi was left then for a time. His own erection unattended to – aching and driving him crazy with need. Holding his tongue was important though. Kisaki had not given him permission to speak. So he knelt there, biting his lips – feeling as though his whole world was on fire. Kisaki returned after a moment. There was a long period of silence. When Asagi strained his ears, he could hear the bastard sipping tea. Asagi wondered what kind of person he was – to allow himself to be displayed so – in front of a man drinking some tea while his innards turned into molten lava. An idiot? A pervert? A whore? He could almost hear those voices in his head again – those accusing, hateful voices which told him that he was ugly. He was useless. He was nothing but a plaything for some psychotic. It brought back all those memories of high school when he had been in that gawky, lanky, awkward stage. The girls had laughed at him, his skinniness, soft voice and his big nose. His father had also disapproved of his son's general appearance. “
You are going to be a doctor one day, right? Look more professional. You need to look more serious – and less like some rock star wannabe!” “
What's with the singing? A waste of time, I tell you! No son of mine is going to be encouraged to get involved in such activities. Singing like a woman!” And yet, as he wallowed in those dark feelings, he could feel desire feeding off it. Revelling in his humiliation, he felt even more aroused than before. It wasn't right. It was twisted. He needed help. “
You want it, don't you?” Kisaki murmured. Asagi twitched as Kisaki's hand slapped his buttocks, causing the dildo to shift inside his already hyper-sensitive body. Nails dragged down his back – marking him in blood. It would sting later, Asagi knew, under the blast of his shower. If I survive that long, he thought hazily, trying hard to stifle an involuntary moan. Without warning, Kisaki lowered Asagi's arms, pushing the vocalist's head down. Asagi complied without complaining – hoping that this would lead to his so needed release. Chains clinked – lazily looping around his hands and neck. Smirking down at the compliant vocalist, Kisaki found that he couldn't keep his eyes off the bowed, yet strong back of his vocalist. His vocalist. Mine.... Asagi shivered as Kisaki's fingers trailed over the vocalist's exposed backbone. Roughened fingers ran over the scratches and old weals which so deliciously decorated Asagi's back. They were his marks – and so they were beautiful additions to an already prized object. Kisaki was proud of him. Asagi was doing so well. So obedient. Well, he learned from the best. The more experienced man eyed his student critically. Asagi's head was bent, hands bound together, still securely. On his spread knees, the vocalist looked like a gift for the taking. It was heady stuff – still – after all this time – it felt so right. To harness this – this package of innocence, experience, hope, despair, earthiness and elegance. Captured and controlled by him. By him. And he would do with it as he pleased. Kisaki tilted his head back in ecstasy as he rubbed his cock sensuously against Asagi's buttocks. He enjoyed it all – the quiver of Asagi's desperation, the power of being able to release and withhold... Here, all those pressures of life which threatened to destroy his sanity seemed to roll away. Here at least, he was in control. Underneath his hands, Asagi followed his direction blindly, allowing himself to be forced forward and down to allow Kisaki better – easier – access. Vulnerability made Kisaki sick – but Asagi wearing it looked so much better, he thought. Quickly withdrawing the dildo, he lubed himself and slowly penetrated Asagi – enjoying the initial tense response – the physical fight as it were of the vocalist's subconscious and his desires. He could feel Asagi trying to relax – and grinned as suddenly pushed in further – suddenly with no verbal warning. Asagi bit back a cry. Kisaki drew out again – almost to the tip and then slammed back into Asagi. Asagi was whimpering now, attempting to dig down further into the mattress. Kisaki would have none of it. The vocalist was his – not something that could escape so easily. He found the chain end and jerked on it, depriving his toy of much needed oxygen. The response was terrific. With his legs, twined around Asagi, Kisaki rode out Asagi's sudden bucking as the vocalist tried to free himself. The vocalist's tension was incredible – and the pressure on his cock was so pleasurable, Kisaki nearly came right then and there. He let the chain go immediately. As soon as Asagi had caught his breath, Kisaki began the rhythm again. Fast and hard. Asagi didn't protest this time – the bassist supposed the vocalist had begun to quietly cry. As usual. After a couple of seconds, Kisaki yanked Asagi back riding into the vocalist again, roughly, enjoying the sudden tightness of Asagi's arse as the struggle for air began again. He came several seconds later – a fantastic wild moment – hands slipping down to free Asagi's erection. Biting Asagi's shoulder hard, he remembered a sound ripping from within the both of them, more like animals than men. In the daze that followed, he let Asagi sag forward, coughing – choking and sobbing. Warm and slick with sweat, they lay there crumpled together, dirty yet satiated with their passions.
-0-0-0-
As was sometimes his habit, Kisaki slept like the dead. But Asagi could not sleep. He wondered if he would ever be able to shut his eyes to the night again. The visual suffocation of the senses – and the restraints frightened him. Dark night surrounded him – but he dared not turn the light on. Slipping out from Kisaki's limp grasp, Asagi managed to disentangle himself from his bonds and hobble to the washroom to wash himself. After carefully and thoroughly cleaning himself, Asagi found his way to his apartment's small closed balcony. There was a tiny chair out there which he had enjoyed curling up on – back in the day, when he had been a freer man. On nights like these, he could watch some of the richer neighbours in the city, enjoying their gardens. The scents of the roses and the other flowers had drifted up hazily through the large screen windows, entrancing him with their scents. After a long day of auditions or rehearsals, this had been a haven. Now it was a temporary shelter. Asagi had in the past found peace in other places. But, thinking back to the man who now inhabited his bed, he was sure that the garden behind the Kamogawa Parish could no longer invite him. Ruiza's voice came back to him sharp and clear: "I'll dream enough for both us ... until the day you wake up out of your frightful reality." Any kinds of white-washing could not hide the truth of it now. The question of whether all of his ambitions were worth it – that was another matter to consider. But then, he supposed bitterly. I had signed a pact with the devil – with my eyes open, to a certain extent. As Kisaki had pointed out, such things carried a risk. He was alone. It is my burden. Mie was asleep on the dining table chair – but Donna appeared at his side, nuzzling the quietly crying man under the chin. Her rough tongue comforted him a little, easing the heavy loneliness and he drew her close in a light hug, sinking his face into her fur. And I have risked it all. And gained nothing. -
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