Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: Between the 1st and 25th of December, I kept posting one fic/update a day over at my LJ, lumelle. These updates were in series of five fics sharing a theme.

The last series of five was five continuations -- either sequels or updates to old fics. This is a sequel to Strange Dreams and Corrections.


Something Old, Something New

There was no chime of the doorbell, no questions from the door phone. Instead, Kabaji only barely caught the sound of keys in the lock before the door was opened and he heard the slightly tired, "I'm home."

"...Welcome home." He stepped into the hallway, looking at Atobe. "...You look horrible." He really did, too, tired and pale to the point of looking sickly. All in all, Atobe was more like someone returning from a funeral than from a wedding.

"Why, thank you, Munehiro. I can always count on you to say the sweetest things." Atobe gave him a wry smile before shrugging off his jacket. Kabaji accepted it automatically as it was handed to him, hanging it in the closet. Atobe toed his shoes off in an almost off-hand manner before walking further into the apartment, already peeling off his tie. "Where's Yume?"

"She just fell asleep in the living room," Kabaji replied, following Atobe. "I didn't dare try to move her yet lest she wake up again."

"Silly little creature." Atobe smiled faintly, walking to the living room, where a little child indeed lay asleep on her brightly-coloured blanket. "Takes after her father, obviously." He fluidly sat down next to her on the floor, absent-mindedly pushing a couple of baby toys out of the way. "Right, Yume? We're both such silly things..."

Yume didn't reply, happily asleep, oblivious to the words that carried much more meaning than her little mind could possibly comprehend. Kabaji was quiet, too, seating himself on a couch, looking at Atobe with concerned eyes.

"...Don't look at me like that, Munehiro." Atobe glanced at him reprimandingly. "I am fine. I will be fine, in any case. I'm long since over her."

"Are you sure?" Kabaji asked slowly, following closely even the most minute changes in his friend's expression. "It... can't have been pleasant."

"Of course it wasn't pleasant," Atobe replied with a dry tone. "If it was, my father hardly would have forced me to attend. Pleasant things rarely are effective in driving home a point." He shook his head slowly, reaching a hand to softly caress Yume's dark hair. "It was... painful. Of course it was painful. Who would enjoy seeing the one they love marrying another? But it's over now, and I've accepted it, and it's not like I could do much about it in any case."

"...Sometimes, I hate your father." Kabaji said this with complete sincerity – sometimes, he really did. He hated Atobe's father for stepping in, in the first place, and he hated him for stopping Atobe from claiming his own child, and hated him for bringing his cruelty to such levels by forcing Atobe to personally witness all that slip out of his hands. Yet at the same time, a very small part of him... a very small, very selfish part of him couldn't think it was entirely bad. After all, it was because of all this that he'd gotten Yume.

"Me too, Munehiro. Me too." Atobe fell silent, then, quietly petting Yume's hair, apparently lost in thought.

"...How was she?" Kabaji finally asked quietly. He'd only seen her a couple of times, the last time being the day Yume had been born.

"Wonderful. Radiant. Stunning, just as a woman should be on her wedding day. She was the most beautiful bride I've ever seen," Atobe said quietly, eyes locked at Yume's sleeping face but not really seeing anything. "Of course she was. She always was the most beautiful woman ever."

Kabaji was quiet for a moment, looking at his old friend. "...And the groom?"

"A proper young man, I guess. More name to his family than himself, but then that never stopped anyone from thinking much of themselves. I'm sure he'll make her happy in his own way." Atobe paused momentarily. "I'd have made her happier."

"I'm sure you would have." Kabaji nodded.

"I'd have been glad to marry her." Atobe twirled a lock of soft baby hair around his finger, his skin seeming pale in contrast with the midnight-black hair. "I'd have gladly married her and given her my name and raised children with her and made her the happiest woman ever to live." He chuckled humourlessly. "Guess it's not that easy in reality..." Very carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping child, he picked Yume up, holding the slumbering child to his chest. "I only have a little bit of her with me... and that's all thanks to you, Munehiro."

"I am selfish," Kabaji simply said. And selfish he truly felt, looking at the two. He had these two wonderful people... he, and not the woman who could have had it all.

"You gave up your own comfort and freedom to care for my child." Atobe glanced at him. "That's hardly selfish." Holding Yume close, he stood up, somehow managing to look elegant even as he checked her diaper. "It's about the time she went to bed, ahn?"

"Usu." Kabaji stood up, too, hovering close as Atobe walked to the one room in his far too large apartment that had been designated the nursery. Kabaji could no more even remember what had been the reason Atobe had given for having them both move in, but the fact remained they had, and Kabaji wasn't about to complain. Atobe got to spend more time with Yume, and Kabaji got to make sure Atobe ate and slept properly, and both were happy with the situation. Yume, for her part, was hardly going to complain about having two people spoil her rotten every day instead of just one.

"There you go," Atobe murmured, gently easing off Yume's daytime clothes and slipping the little child into her pyjamas before lowering her into her crib. Yume pouted in her sleep, turning her head as though to chase Atobe's hand as he drew it away. Atobe smiled down at her, his expression softer than Kabaji had ever seen it in all their shared years. Not that he could blame him. Yume truly was the most wonderful child ever.

"Shall I make some late dinner for us?" Kabaji offered quietly. "You look like you could use something to eat..."

"Please," Atobe sighed. "I could hardly eat a thing at the reception."

They walked out of the nursery, both quiet. They still didn't talk as they went to the kitchen and Kabaji started preparing a dinner, Atobe curling up in a seat in the corner of the room, blue eyes following closely each and every one of Kabaji's movements. Some might have found the constant attention disturbing; Kabaji, however, found it almost… comforting. There was so much to Atobe's life nowadays, his time was often scarce at best. When Atobe actually had the time to simply sit down and give Kabaji his undivided attention, it was a nice reminder from the old days back in England, when the world had been the two of them and not much else.

The silence continued as they ate, though this time it was Kabaji who kept an eye on Atobe. He was worried to see just how pale his friend seemed, but hopefully a few days with proper food and sleep would cure some of that. As for the heartbreak… well. That was something Kabaji's cooking skills could not alleviate.

"You should go to sleep," Kabaji said as Atobe finally pushed his plate away, apparently not about to eat any more. "You look like you need it."

"Ever so observant," Atobe sighed, then looked at him sharply. "I'm not the one bouncing up in the middle of the night whenever Yume decides to whimper. You're going to sleep, too."

"…Usu." Kabaji finished his own dinner, then stood up, collecting the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Atobe lingered while he did so, standing up and stretching as Kabaji finished. They fell almost instinctively into the familiar pattern, Kabaji walking just slightly behind Atobe, steps silent despite their weight. In the corridor they parted, though, both heading for their own bedroom.

"Munehiro?"

At the sound of Atobe's voice, Kabaji turned to look at him, one hand on the doorframe. "Keigo?"

Atobe seemed to think for a moment. Finally, he spoke, slowly. "...Good night."

"...Good night, Keigo."

Kabaji went to bed, but he didn't fall asleep until quite a while later.