A/N: And I bring you dialogues (lots)! lol Yay!

WARNING: Graphic descriptions of implied sex.


Chapter 3: Intuition

Akihito leaned against a tree, taking shelter in the shades after a day of hard work. He continued to stand there watching the orphanage kids helped the adults collect all the sports equipment. Some of them were too young to be helpful, dropping things more often than picking them up and haphazardly messing up, but they persisted with a cheery attitude. He smiled, forgetting the ache and pain momentarily.

It was just a little half past 1 pm, but the somber sky had taken a turn for the worst as the threat of rain and a possible storm overshadowed everything else. Akihito was only obligated to stay until 11, but his enthusiasm supplanted even the back pain, which got worst from all the crouching.

Even after getting enough materials, he wanted to stick around a little longer, relishing the day's worth of fun with the children. It wasn't until the director announced that they would return to the orphanage earlier than scheduled, which resulted in an outcry of protests from the children that he broke out of the trance. It was silly because he had forgotten that he was still on the job.

"Takaba-san, thank you for today. I hope you didn't have any trouble with the photos. I look forward to seeing them," a voice came from behind him.

Turning around to see that it was the director who found him spacing out again, which he had been doing a lot all day. He blushed for being so unprofessional in front of the man.

"Maeda-sensei."

"I know we are offering you very little compensation for this, and after seeing how much effort you put into it despite the fact, I couldn't help but feel that I at least owe you a personal thank you."

Akihito flashed him a genuine smile, "I really enjoyed taking their pictures. I should be thanking you."

The man gave him an apologetic smile instead and a small pat on the shoulder before turning around to leave. But before he was able to walk away, Akihito called out, "Maeda-sensei, I will drop by with the pictures tomorrow, but there's someone I want to see while I'm there...with your permission."

The director stopped to face him again, "Someone?"

"Yukio-kun," he paused, "He seemed curious in photography so I promised to show him some of my photos."

With that the older man stood with his mouth slightly opened, obviously surprised at the request, though Akihito didn't really know why. After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, the younger man shifted nervously, wondering if he had unintentionally upset the other for some reason.

"Takaba-san. You really surprised me there. In the one month he had been with us, he refused to befriend or even talk to anyone. I was the only one to get any response from him, but even that was a rare thing."

It was Akihito's turn to be surprised, "I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries..."

"No, not at all! Takaba-san, you don't know how pleased I am right now to hear this," the man said with a genuine glee in his voice, his eyes sparkled a bit. "Now I'm further indebted to you. Please...be his friend even if it's just for a little while..." The director gave him a sincere bow.

"No, I'm happy to help, but you really don't owe me anything," a nervous chuckle escaped him as he was unsure of what to make of the situation.

"Then...I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow." Akihito nodded in acknowledgement and the director gave him a last look before walking away.

Akihito was a little perplexed at the new knowledge, but he decided that he'd rather know more from the kid himself. No use making guesses. He pushed away the thoughts and proceeded to say his goodbyes to the children.


In a small, isolated room only big enough for four and half tatami mats, the yakuza sat in silence; his expression remained cold, distant, and vaguely uninterested. He kept a fixed gaze on the talking man with half-lidded, gray eyes detached of emotions and warmth. The signs of aging marked his features as well as the mix of gray and white colors of his crew cut hair almost made him appear docile and harmless. But beneath that facade, there was only the excess shell of a man once familiar with human warmth. Across from him, his second-in-command continued to update him on the outside world, the details about his rival, the organization, and the activities of the underworld.

"Takamura-sama. Asami Ryuichi is making his move. We suspected a few rats in our group, but I haven't given the orders yet. What do you want me to do with them?"

The yakuza laughed, the deep baritone breaking the stillness of the room. A few seconds passed before his expression resumed the coldness. "Ignore them. I want to let him keep guessing and running in circles like a dog on a chain leash."

"I've already set up the meeting with Murata. He's proving to be a useful tool like always," the subordinate snickered. "If the paperwork goes through without any trouble, we can get you out sooner than planned."

"The photographer." It wasn't a question, but a demand for information.

"We've been watching him. Asami hired an old acquaintance of yours to keep watch on the boy. Maybe he thinks that would prevent us from doing anything, what a joke."

The yakuza shot a death glare at his subordinate, "Send Asami a gift once you confirmed the release date. Make sure it's memorable."

The subordinate smiled wickedly, understanding the meaning of 'gift' as 'warning'. Nobody had dared to take on Asami Ryuichi for the last 5 years and the Matsuda group's influence declined considerably. After wiping out the last of Izumi-gumi's members, the group had been laying low, avoiding direct conflict with Asami. It didn't take long for Asami to assert his authority, controlling Tokyo's underground like his personal playground. It also didn't help that their boss had been unresponsive until now. The current head of Matsuda was just a puppet, a placeholder for Takamura as he directed the game from his prison cell.

His order to send a gift was a blessing to take action and it was said without hesitation, as though it was just child's play to him. Even after spending years trapped in this place, the man's menacing lust for blood and vengeance didn't fade.


Akihito didn't arrive at the penthouse until a little after 3 pm. He had stopped by the store on the way home to pick up some groceries, fully intending to cook something for Asami before leaving for the interview. The man might not be around much, but he knew Asami would always eat the food he left. All of it. It was something that secretly made him happy.

When he first started staying here, he'd find anything to do in order to avoid being a freeloader. Asami told him to just leave it and stop fussing, but he refused to be some complacent house pet. He'd contribute however meager his effort might have looked like to the older man. Over time, he had learned to pick up Asami's subtle gestures and it warmed him inside every time he thought about them. Though the man's incredible sexual energy was a force to be reckoned with. There was no holding back once the insatiable lust kicked in and the aftermath would consist of him spitting cusses at the man.

He checked the time again, dropped his camera bag on the bed, and headed straight for the bathroom for a good long soak in the tub. An hour went by before he appeared from the bathroom with only an underwear and a towel. As he made his way to bed to grab his clothes, the phone went off and he glared at the caller's name.

"Seriously, do you have cameras installed? I was only joking, but now I'm suspicious."

A low chuckle on the other line could be heard in reply to the cheeky remark, "Would you prefer that? I'd enjoy watching you touch yourself whenever you think of me."

Akihito narrowed his eyes. Bastard. "Asami, if you're going to check up on me every few hours, you must have a lot of time on your hand."

"Do you miss me that much? It seems I've neglected you for too long."

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"Did you just get out of the shower?"

"What?" Or more like...how the hell did he know? Akihito's eyes darted around the bedroom, checking for potential hidden cameras.

"Akihito," Asami drawled, "what would you do if I were there right now? Do you want me to touch you?"

Akihito could feel the hair on the back of his neck react to the tease. The blunt question threw him off guard, but he had a vague awareness of what Asami was doing. He remained quiet, refusing to give in to the tease.

"I'll claim those luscious lips...they're made only for me. Sucking on it, savoring your taste...slowly, leaving you struggle for air. Your hands try to resist me, but I won't let go...you'll give in to me. Melt into the pleasure I give you."

Akihito almost gasp at the memory of how Asami had a knack for making him breathless with his passionate kisses.

"Can you feel my left hand on your back nudging you to come closer as it's slowly making its way down...further...brushing over the sensitive bumps of your back?"

Akihito breathed in sharply.

"Lie down Akihito. Feel the heat of my body against yours...the body that will only respond to me."

Akihito unconsciously obeyed, his face already blushing at all the lewd words. He could almost feel Asami's warm body against his as he closed his eyes and gave in to the imagery, not caring anymore.

"My lips are now on the delicate spot behind your ear, nibbling on a soft lobe...gently teasing. Feel the heat of my breath as I whisper into your ear. I continue to lick...down your neck, licking...my warm breath on your skin. I can almost taste it."

A shiver ran down his spine. His heart was racing in response to every word.

"My fingers are brushing against your sensitive spots. I know you like it when I touch them. Can you feel my lips against your right nipple now? I'm licking it, claiming it in my mouth... biting into it until you beg for me to touch you more."

Akihito was already hard at this point as his hand trailed to his nipple, teasing it, pinching it, and imagining Asami's skillful mouth playing with it. He swiftly removed the underwear he was wearing like it was in his way.

"Don't touch yourself yet, Akihito. I won't let you. Watch me...watch me lick your swelling flesh. My tongue is stroking it from the hilt...up...slowly...just stopping at the tip...licking up that delicious juice. Watch me claim all of you in my mouth. Feel the soft, wetness within as I continue to swallow you deeper ..."

The photographer shuddered at the thought of Asami's tongue on his erection. He took the erection in his hand and began to stroke slowly. The pre-cum dripped on his hand, making it easier.

"Open up for me, Akihito. Let me see that you want me...want me to touch you."

Akihito did so, following Asami's suggestions without protest. He was already breathing harder than before and he knew could hear him.

"Put me on speaker. I want you to use your other hand."

The younger man obeyed, placing the phone close enough to his right ear.

"Use your hand to massage your balls. Take your time. I want to watch you..entice me," Asami drawled.

Akihito groaned at the feeling of his balls being massaged. The added sensations sent every nerve in his body tingling. Asami's deep voice next to him made him crave for man's touch even more.

"Use your fingers...imagine they're mine...use them to touch your puckered opening."

His fingers gently brushed against the opening and he jerked a little, slightly surprised at how sensitive his body was.

"What do you want me to do Akihito?"

"Asa...mi..." Akihito whimpered. "I want to-"

"Do you want me to fuck you...drown you in pleasure?"

Akihito let out an incoherent sound.

"I'll allow it. Use your fingers, Akihito. Watch me enter you slowly as your body give in to me...watch me push pass your tight hole."

Akihito inserted two fingers, getting impatient as he desperately tried to obey Asami and tending to his own need for release. The moment he did though, he arched into it and his body shuddered in response to the invasion. He almost came at the pleasure because his other hand never stopped stroking the hardened flesh.

"Do it faster. Watch me bury it inside you every time. Harder. Swallow all of me."

"Ugghhh..." Akihito cocked his head to the side as he began to move the fingers in an out and stroking himself at a faster pace.

"Let me know how much you want me."

Akihito was panting hard into the phone. Despite being so far away, he could feel Asami's presence next to him. The way Asami would touch him, send him over the edge with every touch, and ultimately claim him in complete euphoria. He breathed in deeply, imagining Asami's smell; a mix of musk, tobacco, and cologne. He stroked faster while his fingers penetrated his opening as he rocked his hip into them.

"Come for me, Akihito"

"Asami!" Akihito moaned loudly as the wave of pleasure washed over him, creating a rippling mix of sensations, and his body convulsed slightly as he rode the last few seconds of his climax. He continued to lay there gasping for air, recovering from one of the most intense masturbation he ever had. He was slightly embarrassed that Asami would know how to make him feel this way with just his voice even if they weren't physically together.

"Perverted bastard..." he managed to utter breathlessly before hanging up.

On the other line, Asami could hear Akihito's hard panting before calling out his name. He waited with closed eyes. He wanted to hear the boy's breathing, imagining himself next to him, resting on his chest and listening to the familiar rhythm of his heart. To be able to bring Akihito to such a state without being there himself was something he didn't expect. He didn't think the photographer would be so responsive to him and it made him proud.

He smirked at Akihito's insult before disconnecting and finally looked down at the painful bulge in between his legs. The wet stain was already visible through his dress pants. He stood and made his way to the private bathroom. It looked like the boy's mouth would need some discipline later.


Akihito arrived at the chief editor's office a little bit before 7 pm with camera equipment packed and ready. The older man greeted him with enthusiasm and introduced him to a young man who was sitting in the office when Akihito walked in.

"Takaba-san, I want you to meet Kichirou, our new journalist. He's only one year younger than you," Kohei spoke up when he saw Akihito looking at his the other boy.

"Hello Takaba-san. I've heard a lot about you. I'll be in your care," the younger man stretched out his arm to offer a handshake. Akihito responded to it with a smile, secretly hoping the things he heard weren't bad things. Even he knew about his knack for getting into trouble.

"Nice you meet you too. I didn't expect to meet someone younger than me in the field."

Kohei continued, "Kichirou will be conducting the interview, but he'll need all the help he can from your guidance, Takaba-san. I've already contacted the other party that you will be there by 8. If there's anything you need to ask me, you can reach me on my cell." The older man handed Akihito a piece of paper with the address and a manila folder with paperwork for the interviewee to sign. Both men bowed before exiting the office.

As soon as they stepped out, Kichirou spoke up again, "Takaba-san, how do you plan to get there?"

"I have my scooter, so I can meet you there."

"Why don't you ride with me in my car? I can drop you off here once the interview is over."

"Uh...sure." Akihito didn't know why Kichirou was acting so familiar with him, despite the fact that they have only just met barely 5 minutes ago.

They made their way to the underground parking area and walked for a while until they stopped before a small, compact-looking, navy blue Nissan. He got into the car all the while smiling at his musing. The old detective would be pissed since he parked his Vespa on an outside street and walked here, so the old man would think Akihito was still in the building. Oh well.

The two young journalists sat in the car in semi awkward silence. Akihito took the chance to size up the other. The kid had dark, black hair which contrasted greatly against his pale skin. He didn't look like the athletic type, but he didn't weak either. The dark aura around him made him appear much older than his age and it was strange. Akihito didn't know what to make of it. The air of mystery that surrounded him was almost as thick as Asami's.

"Is there something on my face, Takaba-san?" the younger man spoke up, obviously aware that Akihito was watching him.

"You can call me Akihito since I'm only one year older," the photographer replied, his voice steady, but cautious.

Kichirou smiled. "You seemed to be suspicious of me."

"Huh? Oh...no I was just wondering why you called yourself Kichirou instead of introducing your full name."

"Well, I want to keep that a secret at the moment since I'm still exploring the field. I have a personal reason as well, but I didn't mean to come off as rude. My last name is Miyazawa."

"Your family doesn't want you to get into this field huh?"

The boy shifted his gaze from the road to him for a few seconds, his eyes showing both surprise and awe. "You have sharp instincts, Takaba-san."

Akihito laughed. He couldn't tell the truth about his relationship with Asami and their daily bantering, the tactical bargaining he had to do to fight the domineering bastard, which he'd lose miserably most of the time anyway.

They arrived about half an hour later at an expensive looking house that looked like it belonged to a prestigious owner. It didn't occur to him that the person they were interviewing was Murata Naoko, wife of the Minister of Justice Murata Seiichi. The interview went very well and he stood in the background snapping away. He had thought Kichirou would be nervous for a first time interviewer, but the younger man carried himself flawlessly. He was eloquent, calm, and respectful throughout. Akihito almost believed that he was watching an experienced professional.


After they left the residence, Kichirou invited him to dinner, and Akihito was about to refuse when the other insisted that it was to celebrate his first successful interview, so he accepted. They found a friendly ramen shop a couple of blocks away. It was mostly empty, except for a couple of the locals chilling and talking in the background. It wasn't until after they ordered food that Kichirou spoke up again.

"You seemed like the ramen shop type, so I chose this place. I hope you don't mind."

"Isn't this your celebration dinner? You didn't have to choose it because of me..." Akihito responded.

Kichirou gave him a nervous smile. "I'm sorry. Was I being too forceful? I'm just shy around new people."

"It just felt like you knew more about me than what I know about you."

Kichirou didn't respond to the allegation. He kept his gaze downward as though he was thinking hard about something. A few minutes passed before he looked directly at Akihito, a glint of what appeared to be longing flashed across his eyes. Akihito didn't know what to make of what he saw. It confused him even more.

"I came across your photos once and I really liked them. Your technique and skills are exceptional. When I found out you were only a year older than me, I was very surprised," he paused to deliberate over what he was about to say. "You reminded me of someone I knew. She was a journalist. Maybe a part of me wanted to understand why she chose this path."

Akihito was about to ask who the person was, but Kichirou answered as though he had read his mind, "She was my mother."

"I didn't mean to make you remember something painful." Akihito shifted nervously in his chair. He felt the pang of guilt for feeling like he had forced the younger man to reveal something personal. His defensiveness came from the paranoia of strangers after what happened in Hongkong. He gave Kichirou an apologetic smile. God, I must have acted like an ass.

Kichirou, as though reading his mind, returned the smile, "Don't worry Takaba-san, it's normal to be suspicious in your line of work. I heard that criminal photojournalism is your actual passion."

"I like the occasional thrill," Akihito admitted without hesitation.

A waiter interrupted the conversation to deliver two large bowls of ramen. Akihito dug into his tonkotsu ramen with kakuni topping gleefully, eager to fill his stomach and taste the familiar and hearty flavor, unaware that Kichirou was quietly observing him. He was halfway through the bowl when the younger man spoke again.

"Did you know why we had to interview Murata Seiichi's wife, Takaba-san?"

Akihito looked up, evidently confused by the question. "I thought because they donated a large sum to the charity for handicapped children." He had picked up the bits of information here and there during the interview.

"Yes. Did you know that Murata Koji, Murata Seiichi's second son got into a car accident a little over two months ago? A family of three was in the other car. The parents never made it and the sole survivor, the son, was in a coma for a month. He was sent to a local orphanage when he woke up."

Akihito narrowed his eyes, his ramen temporarily forgotten. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"There was no witness when it happened, so the case was declared an accident. Murata Koji claimed that he was hit by the other car, and the court ruled in his favor. Nobody knows the truth because there were no news about it," Kichirou divulged the information in a cool manner, as though it was yesterday's news. But to Akihito, it touched a nerve as the contents were both disturbing and frightening.

"You didn't believe it, didn't you? Something was off about the whole thing and you want to know the truth."

"Yes, that's why I want to recruit your help. The rumor was that Murata Koji was intoxicated when he drove that day. There was a witness, but the man never showed up to report to the police."

"How did you know so much about this? And if that's the case, why did you agree to do the interview?" Akihito narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of everything.

"I have my sources. I wanted to do the interview to confront Murata Koji who had been hiding in his house ever since the accident."

Akihito frowned as he digested the information, the red lights in his mind lit up like wildfire, screaming at him to get to the bottom of things. But the last time he tried to play the hero, he was caught up in a war between two of Asia's biggest crime lords, and that wasn't something he wanted to deal with again.

"Are you telling me the donated money would go to the orphanage with the surviving victim?"

Kichirou nodded.

The photographer continued, "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because I think you'll help me. Others would cower and pretend not to hear, but I think...believe you are not like them."

Akihito snickered at the comment. He had always dived headfirst, chasing scoop with very little consideration for his own safety, but Hongkong had taught him a valuable lesson. There is a consequence to everything. He could still remember the moment when he was shot, the fear that shook him to the core, the image of the other end of the barrel ingrained into his memory.

"I'm not the hero you think I am," Akihito sighed, his body suddenly feel weary and his appetite now gone.

Kichirou watched the photographer let his shoulders slumped a little. There was an internal battle in the other man that he could not see. "Takaba-san. I won't force you to help me because this could be dangerous, but I will wait for your phone call tomorrow. There will be a meeting between Murata Seiichi and a yakuza group's top lieutenant."

Akihito thought about it, weighing every word. "What's the orphanage's name?" He sat still as Kichirou revealed the name, his eyes widened at the realization, and a feeling of sadness overcame him.


Author's End Note:I do research for almost everything I write mostly because habits die hard, so sometimes I spend hours working on one paragraph. Oh the distractions! I watched this one hour youtube video on Japanese prisons to get an idea and man it was so interesting! Then I watched another on American prisons and that was interesting too. And my story isn't even about prison life, but now I feel...enlightened! lol Just something I want to share with you guys. I didn't get the information I wanted though, so I ended up just making it up. XD

Bet you guys didn't expect phone sex lmao. I have my reasons. I want to thank all who left reviews/comments. They really helped. Special thanks to Sunflower1343 for her helpful/encouraging comments too.