This is my first ever Revenge fanfic. I watched every single episode that has come out for a very short amount of time and felt really inspired to write something. Anyway, this is a mixture of stories from Aiden's point of view during their time in Japan in the past and Emily's life in the Hamptons in the present. Keep in mind that since it is in the past Aiden might be a little OOC :) I hope you like it and I would love to read all of your reviews and recommendations :)


He still wonders sometimes how he ended up here. Life in the past few months has been nothing but a film strip – he doesn't remember everything, just the highlights of his days. He doesn't understand; he is not at all naïve and trusting and yet he immediately followed a certain long-legged blonde to the other side of the world, when being promised to learn the act of revenge. As skeptic and filled with grief and anger as he was, he was surprised to hear the conformation 'Yes' when Emily asked him if he wanted to join her in Japan. When he finally landed on Japanese soil he had shook his head and just then had he realized he was there, with Emily standing next to him. It was as if he had been in a trance all along the journey.

He truly wonders what he is doing in Japan. He isn't handling himself very well – or so is Takeda saying. He is still very much caught up in his emotions and according to both his sensei and the blonde girl, that travelled with him, emotions are a liability they cannot afford to have. And he is also quite ashamed, actually. Emily is better than him at everything. Shooting – she's better at it. Knife-fighting – she's better at it. Camouflage – you guessed it! She's better at it. One thing he was good at, and they never really let him train with her in order to prove that he is better.

He thinks it is kind of pathetic, always being in desperate need to prove himself to her. Not Takeda. Her is who he wants to impress. And he doesn't even understand that about him. They don't even talk – they only train. He did try to start a conversation once, but Emily just interrupted him, saying that she doesn't really care and that she wasn't there to make friends, she was there to learn how to ruin the Graysons. And so he stopped trying to make small talk. He doesn't know why but he catches himself staring at her during dinner time. She's tossing the little beans around the plate with her fork, she's taking small sips of her glass of water, and her worked up face and heavy lids suggest that she needs to sleep. But she doesn't. She stays up till late and swims during the night. He sometimes hears her when she comes back to her room, which is only a couple of rooms to the left of his. Sometimes he can hear her in the dead of night returning from her swim crying. Sometimes she's laughing – she's alone, but still, a small chuckle escapes those pink plump lips of hers. And just before he finally falls asleep he catches him thinking of her. And he accepts that with a bitter-sweet smile – they can never be anything but two strangers passing each other in the hallway. He's used to not getting what he wants. He'll get over her. He knows it.

'Wake up, Aiden.' Her soft voice fills his ears like the chime of a bell. Like a sweet symphony. He smiles and opens his eyes and there she is. She is his only. Her golden locks, her deep brown eyes, her slender figure. Everything she is.

And then he gets a kick to the side of his abdomen. He grunts in pain as the memory of an old beating starts to burn through his flesh, where a foot met his ribcage. He still has stitches there – a wound courtesy of a Russian mobster. He opens his eye yet he doesn't even think twice. He grabs the female leg and pulled it over his body, collapsing an annoyed blonde next to him. His defense reactions are in full gear. He turns so that he can be towering over her and presses her against the pillows with his free hand.

'How can I help you?' Aiden asks as his eyes finally focused on the tiny blonde, who is breathing heavily pressed against his body and his bed. His voice is sharp and he can see the surprise in the woman's face. He stands up and makes a rash step backwards, knocking off everything that is standing on the top of his small dresser. Emily Thorne stands up and smooths the freshly appeared wrinkles on her tank top with the palms of her hands. Aiden then notices a small tattoo on her right wrist, but he needs to be closer to her to really make out the image, forever imprinted on her skin. He can now see her toned body, her slim waist, her chest, still rising up and down, because of that little stunt of Aiden's.

'You overslept.' Her voice is cold, diplomatic. Her face is lacking emotion – her cheeks are relaxed, her lips are straightened into a tight line, her eyebrows are a little furrowed. Only her eyes can give away what she is thinking at the moment. But when Aiden's eye meet those of Emily she looks away and for a second he can swear on his loving sister, he sees her blush. 'Takeda is absolutely furious with you.'

They stay like that for a couple seconds, both avoiding each other's gaze as if it is toxic. An awkward silence settles in, filling the small room with its thickness.

'Oh my God' Emily gasps and with one leap, she jumps on the bed and lands on its other side, where Aiden is standing. It is then when he starts to feel the warm liquid that is oozing from his wound. His stitches are undone. 'I did this?'

Aiden looks down and sees a growing red spot on his grey t-shirt. He curses under his breath and is surprised when the young blonde is lifting his shirt without any kind of permission whatsoever.

'Are those…?

'Yes. Dmitri.'

She bites her lip as she coyly touches the newly opened wound. 'How did that happen?'

'You kicked me while I was sleeping, don't you remember?'

'You need new stitches.' Emily says, the slightest bit of worry showing through that diplomatic emotionless voice of hers. The Britt then takes off his shirt and throws it to the ground.

'Why were you poking me with your toe anyways?' asks Aiden, biting the inside of his cheek in a struggle not to show just how much Emily's reaction entertained him. He doesn't care about the stitches. For all he knows, he could have pulled them in his sleep. He is sleeping rather restless as of recently.

'Takeda sent me to wake you up.' He catches her glancing at his naked chest. Then her eyes turn to the bloody mess his right side is and presses her lips together, probably because she never meant to hurt him. Here they teach about revenge and hurting people, but only those who truly deserve it. And Aiden certainly didn't deserve Emily's wrath. 'I tried telling you to wake up, but you'd just smile and turn to the other side. Seemed like you were having a nice dream. After the lack of any kind of response from you I took matters into my own hands.'

'Feet, you mean.' Mathis chuckles and pulls out a drawer with a first aid's kit inside of it.

'Do me the honors, will you? Since you are the one responsible.'

He sits down on his bed and gestures an invitation next to him. Emily sits down but there is still enough room between the two of them. She takes the needle and thread from the little case and starts puncturing Aiden's skin, each stitch accompanied with a grunt from the Britt.

After that she sterilizes the wound and leaves the room. At the door she stops and turns to face Aiden again.

'Go talk to Takeda. I wouldn't want you gone.'

Aiden just nods and Emily is gone. He is all alone in his room, wound stitched. The touch of Emily's gentle fingers though still lingers on his skin. He tries to ignore it but the places where Emily's hands touched him burn just as much as the wound itself.

Aiden Mathis is never late and he explains that to Takeda. The sensei doesn't take it well and punishes him with more knife fighting and more shooting at targets, more time spent with Emily in awkward silence. More time in which he tries to gain her attention and to impress her. Mission impossible. She ignores him and if she notices that he is standing too close, she moves a step in the other direction.

It is as if nothing has changed. Not that anything grand has happened but Aiden hopes he can get some reaction out of Emily.

Nothing. They continue passing each other in the hallway; they exchange small half smiles one will only notice if they focus really hard on their expressions. He still watches during dinner time; he is far from where she is sitting but he is still able to notice how her chest rises and falls softly, relaxed. He catches her looking sometimes but all he can see is that expressionless face of hers, her beautiful pink lips pressed in a tight line, as if she is unhappy with him.

He is good at reading people usually. Yet he finds the task of reading her almost impossible.