Hatsumi slipped a finger through the handle of her coffee mug and released a sigh. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a small sip.

Ice cold.

How long had she been sitting here spacing out? Not that spacing out wasn't a part of her daily routine. A bitter smile graced her lips at the thought. 'Space Cadet'. 'Dimwit'. 'Goddamn Idiot'. 'Slut'. 'Bitch'. 'Fucking whore.'

She'd gotten used to the degrading names over the years. She'd gotten used to believing they were true, too. No matter how much she loved him, Ryoki had always needed more from her than she could give. At first it had started fairly simply. He had needed her time, her attention, her body, and she had thought... her love. After their marriage, Hatsumi found that no matter what she gave him, he always needed more. Need, need, need. It had turned from needing her, to needing to use her as an excuse. It was her fault he couldn't get ahead at his job. She was too stupid, too graceless to fit in with high society. It was her fault he spent all night drinking and out at clubs. She was boring in bed, never willing to experiment, never willing to let him use her how he wanted.

A small shudder ran through her.

Hatsumi had known love once. Ryoki, she really believed, had loved her once. When they first married, his touch was cherished, and while not always gentle it was never truly cruel. As the years had passed, and as Ryoki had continued his downward spiral, making love had turned to torture. Towards the end of their marriage he had raped her numerous times. His touch had once been something that made her blood turn to fire, now even the thought of him near her turned her veins ice cold.

She had never been the smartest or strongest person. That's why she had been drawn to Ryoki. Hatsumi had fallen in love with him because she had thought he was exactly what she needed. She had stayed with him because she knew it was what he needed. And maybe, just maybe, if she loved him unconditionally he could change.

Boy had she been wrong on that one.

Ryoki wasn't capable of change, or of compromise. Hatsumi knew that now. It only took, what? Nearly ten years of abuse and neglect to figure it out? Now she had lost everything.

A quick glance around her apartment was enough evidence of that. Not that she cared about losing the fancy houses and cars. She had never wanted a relationship with Ryoki for status or money, she just wanted to love him, and to help him understand love. A lot of good it had done her.

Her apartment was tiny, with yellowing walls from previous tenants who had smoked. Paint was chipping in places, and wallpaper peeling in others. The carpet was threadbare and stained. Her furniture was sparse. A shabby old futon sat in the center of the living area in front of a tiny box TV set. A floor lamp, bent slightly from where Ryoki had smashed it to the floor in one of his rages, sat in one corner. A small basket with a few pillows and a blanket folded neatly on top was next to the futon where she slept. The finishing touch was a folding card table and two chairs that served as her dining room set. Not that she had a dining room. The only 'room' that even had a door was the bathroom, and that barely counted considering the damn thing threatened to fall off the hinges at any moment.

A quick glace at her wristwatch told Hatsumi she would have to start getting ready for work soon.

After filing for the divorce, and then a restraining order when Ryoki had nearly beaten her to death upon being served the divorce papers, Hatsumi had gone into hiding. She had even gone so far as to lie to her new employers about her name. She had found a small 'mom and pop' cafe, and had started working as a waitress. The owners were kind and generous people, and though the wages were small, she was just able to get by. For now.

Hatsumi put her hand against her stomach. She really wasn't showing much yet. Probably because she didn't eat enough. No one knew yet, and that was just the way she wanted to keep it. She didn't want this child, in fact, she hated it. It was part of him. When the police had found her beaten near to death at the condo in Tokyo, no one had asked what had happened. The evidence was written on her body with bruises and blood. But Ryoki had taken her again, raped her over and over that night. She wouldn't let the doctors perform a full examination, but the pity in their eyes told her that they knew anyway.

Her family didn't know though, and no one would ever know about this child. She was going to give it up for adoption, and she needed to hide away long enough to be able to do that. The only person who knew her whereabouts was Akane, and after everything that had happened, she knew her sister would never say a word.

A knock at the door jolted Hatsumi from her reverie.

Shit. That was probably Taku-san coming to pick her up for work. He was a nice guy... she could tell he had a crush on her. They worked together at the Cafe, and after a couple of days Taku had noticed her walking home. He had offered to give her a ride whenever she needed. At first she wanted to decline, but sometimes she worked late... and she was honestly just... scared.

Sliding the folding chair back she dashed to the tiny kitchenette and dumped what was left of her cold coffee down the drain.

"Coming!"

Sliding the locks back, Hatsumi suddenly realized she probably should have checked the peephole. Too late now. Edging the door open slightly Hatsumi found herself peering up at a face she hadn't seen in a decade.

No. It couldn't be. How was he here? Why? It didn't matter. Joy sprang up in her soul like dam bursting against floodwater, sending her heart pounding to her ears.

"Shi...no...gu?"

He looked just the same. Just the same. Her wonderful brother... her precious friend.

"Hey Hatsumi."

…..

To Be Continued...

A/N

Hey ya'll, it's been a while eh? I nearly forgot this story... and then I found my old Hot Gimmick Manga books and decided to re-read them. I can still read Manga when I'm 30. Shut up.

This, however turned out to be a poor decision because I forgot how much I really, really, really, really really, REALLY can't stand the ending... or Ryoki for that matter. Yes I have painted him as quite the villain in this story, so if you're a fan, well, get over it. Lol.

Aaaaaaanyway, back to my original point. I decided in a fit of rage to see if anyone had written any SxH fanfiction and found my own damn story. Like I said, I had pretty much forgotten I'd ever written it, but I think it's about time it got finished. I believe it's been over six years since I've updated, and frankly that's just inexcusable. So, here's chapter two, and I promise it wont be six years to wait for chapter three.

xoxo