"The only victories which leave no regret are those which are gained over ignorance." - Napoleon Bonaparte

"I asked where you were last night?" Akihito gritted out, word by word.

Asami was wracking his head hard, wondering what had gotten into his boy. 'Why was he acting like that? Why did he sound so hurt? ' Every nerve in his body was screaming to reach out and engulf that seemingly frail body and chase away the hurt in his voice and that forlorn look in his eyes. But Akihito had slapped his hands away. 'Why?'

He stood for a moment taking in the dishevelled appearance. Akihito had hardly slept at all judging from the dark patches under his eyes. They were also red and strained, as if the blond had cried all night. Again the questions bubbled within Asami. There were bloody scratches on Akihito's hands and some on his feet, Asami suspected from the now muddy looking stains on the carpet and the floor. Asami could feel the anger beginning to boil from within him. Nobody touched what was his. Not even Akihito himself. The blond had no right to damage or hurt his body in any way.

Asami looked back to his Akihito. Concern for the boy was temporarily keeping the anger at bay. The hurt and – was that accusation in his eyes – hurt Asami in ways he did not want to admit. It made his throat constrict painfully, his stomach roil and the he could feel an uncomfortable heat slowly claw at his insides - and it frustrated him.

But it was the anger and disgust on Akihito's face that spurred him to reach out and pull the boy in arms. He could not help it. He needed Akihito within his embrace. He needed Akihito's warm breath on his skin – a reminder that Akihito was his and his alone. His fingers had barely touched Akihito when Akihito's face contorted like a cornered wild animal, a snarl erupting from the young man as his hands came up to roughly shove the older away with strength and vehemence that Asami would normally not associate with his younger lover.

Akihito's behaviour was beginning to rub on his nerves and as much as Asami did not want to admit it, things were slipping out of his control. Akihito's behaviour was not just a little strange but entirely out of character and for the first time in the entire duration of their relationship, Asami did not know how to handle the situation. He could always threaten the boy the way he did with his rivals and enemies but Akihito was not part of that life. He was special and Asami acknowledged that even if he did not explicitly say it. A thought suddenly occurred to him, his mind going over the events of the past two days. Could his lover have learnt of it? 'Did he know? But he couldn't have.'

Asami pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. It was simply not possible. Akemi had been here only two days after all. Asami decided that it was time to change tactics. He did not like this lack of control and so he decided that would make Akihito tell him exactly what it was that was eating at him like that. Asami resolved that he would clear whatever misunderstanding the blond was clearly under and things would go back to normal between them – but not before some punishment in bed for the mental (and emotional) torture his boy was putting him through right now.

"If you had bothered to answer your phone, you'd know that I was late at the office, but what brought on this wave of possessiveness? Did you miss me?" Asami smirked as he asked the last question, trying to goad the boy into telling him exactly what it was that was pissing him off so. He felt a little better now, anxiously hoping to put this scary episode behind them. He expected Akihito to lash out at him in a tirade of self- indignant protests as he usually did whenever Asami goaded at him but Akihito merely stood there like a broken doll, looking as if he had been slapped in the face.

The deadish look in his lover's eyes sliced at Asami. 'Why did he have to look so… wounded? But Asami kept his face neutral. He needed to act as normal as possible so that he could pull Akihito out of it and not sink into this… whatever this is. Asami waited for a full minute, then two, which then became five full minutes before sighing. Akihito had hardly moved. He really did seem like a broken doll. To Asami, it seemed like the kid did not even exhibit signs of life, such as breathing. Not even a twitch in his facial muscles was apparent. It was as if the kid had blocked him out and that scared Asami. He would have laughed if it was not for the lifeless limbs and fear that was beginning to numb him. Imagine that, the biggest Kingpin in all of Tokyo and southern Japan, and he was scared shitless by a brat who did nothing except to do nothing. He could bet that nobody saw that coming. Asami ran a hand through his head in an attempt to get it all together. 'Shit. I should have come home last night. Regardless of what Akemi said or wanted – I should have been home. What the hell happened? I wish I had the security tapes from last night right no-'

"I saw you. With her. And your son."

Asami almost swore that his boy had not spoken. That the words had simply floated in out of nowhere. In fact, he was absolutely certain that they were the product of his imagination but his head shot up anyway at what seemed to be the sound of Akihito's voice. There was repulsion in the face that greeted his and there was an acrid hatred that laced his next words.

"Where were you last night?"

Asami could see the allegations of betrayal that radiated from Akihito in all directions, eyes glinting with anger and unshed tears. Asami's heart lurched painfully in his chest. Asami had not been sure if he had a heart and he wondered briefly if this was what it felt like when your heart was being wrenched. But there was nothing Asami could do; the die had been cast long ago. And there was no need for lies between them; there never was and for once, Asami truly wished that he could simply lie - lie to Akihito, lie to Akemi and lie to his son – but he respected Akihito too much and Asami himself was above such pettiness and he would not stoop so low as that. "I was with her, naturally," Asami drawled, this time moving away to lean against the wall as he drank in the sight of his most beloved person. He needed to capture Akihito as he was right now and embed it in his memory. This was the price of betrayal. In the end, it was he himself who brought in betrayal into their relationship. A look of pure hurt crossed Akihito's face before it hardened, a vein throbbing above his temples, hands curled into fists by his side. Despite the numbness in his hands, Asami's muscles itched to run a hand over the throbbing vein and unclasp Akihito's fist to grip them with his own hands in comfort.

Akihito's pain was tearing him apart.

"That's it, then?" Akihito hissed, slamming a fist against the wall. Asami's anger rose. 'Did the kid have to cause damage to himself like that?' Asami was torn between the desire to keep Akihito with him without his consent and allowing Akihito that choice. A part of him wanted Akihito to stay with him willingly but he dared not hope for such because he knew the boy's pride, his temperament. Akihito would not tolerate any kind of two-timing. Asami was proud of that because it also meant that Akihito would not two-time him. But this was worse than two-timing. Because this time, Akihito would be his mistress.

"That's all you have to say?" Asami's only response was to draw out a cigarette and stick it in his mouth as normally as possible. He needed the nicotine boost if he was going to go through with this. It had never been his intention to let his lover go. Sure, he knew it was expected of him – heck, he expected him of himself but when it came to Akihito, he always would react in ways he never expected. He could see Akihito's broken heart slowly shatter into tiny pieces. He wished he could gather them and put it back together but knowing his sin, he did not expect the boy to welcome his assistance. Simply knowing that the boy would never again want him near, he could feel something crackle and burn inside his chest.

"So is she your lover then?" Asami was trying to keep the heat in his body contained and he could hardly speak when he was thrown the younger man's hate-filled question. Asami had lit his cigarette and he now inhaled on it deeply, not wanting his anger to show. He could almost hear a voice telling him to simply beat the boy for daring to question him in the first place. He cared for the brat and Akihito knew that. Akihito belonged to him anyway; so what if he had a wife? But Asami knew that even if Akihito was his, he would never belong to Akihito in the same way. The knowledge hurt. No doubt that knowledge would hurt Akihito but it hurt him too knowing that despite his feelings, Akihito could never be his number one. "No."

Behind the thin screen of smoke, he could see Akihito's face transform into that of disgust. Asami had always thought that he would be happy if he could look into Akihito's passionate eyes but now those very eyes were looking at him with accusation in their depths and hurt that he himself has put there. He had never in his wildest dreams think that he could hurt the brat like that and now he found that he could not forgive himself. Asami breathed in the cigarette again, knowing that his next words would do irreparable damage. "She's my wife."

Akihito's knees buckled and he shrank back into the wall, his eyes closed , eyebrows drawn together. Asami fisted his hands at his side, needing to let Akihito decide for himself if he would leave or if he would stay. He desperately needed Akihito to stay but he wanted Akihito to want it too. He knew that it was unlikely and it would bring problems on later but a part of him believed that the Akihito who loved him would never leave him.

He heard the laughter bubble from Akihito, a few bursts of laughter before it erupted into maniacal hysteria. He had done this to his Akihito. Akihito might be laughing but he was crying too. Tears streamed from his red eyes, leaving wet trails down his now blotchy face when his cheeks flushed against the paleness of his forehead and dark circles under his strained eyes.

Akihito stood up, wiping all traces of tears and saliva and dried discharge at the corner of his eyes. The sight of it struck Asami cold. "I want out. I refuse to play the fool any longer."

Asami waved a hand, as if to block out the words he did not want to hear. He could feel the heat in his midsection spread to his throat and behind his eyes. He was beginning to regret not lying to the teen. If only he had persuaded the teen that everything was a lie… Asami turned away, feeling tears prick from behind his eyes. His throat worked soundlessly but he managed to bite out a sentence, resentment at his lover creeping into it for discarding him so easily. "By all means."

Asami expected the teen to fight, leave, scream, cry, charge at him but Akihito did nothing and the long silence was beginning to grate on Asami's nerves. He could feel the anger burning just beneath his skin. He wanted to slap his younger lover for even thinking about leaving him - he wanted to strike and mark the body he worshipped for the past year with pain. He wanted Akihito to himself. He could feel the need to wring Akihito's neck suffuse his hands and he clasped them together without looking at his lover.

"I loved you, you know."

That sentence completely undid Asami. He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled the suffocating smoke. He could hear Akihito move; he heard the bathroom door at the end of the hall open and close, the sound of the shower turning on. Behind the cigarette smoke the older man was crying. He felt the wet tears soothe the heat, anger, pain and guilt that churned away inside him. Asami held his head in his hands and sobbed silently, his body trembling with the force of his sobs and he understood suddenly that he was going to regret this for the rest of his life as Akihito's voice kept playing in his head.

It still played in his head, two years later.

Akemi had lost the child and it had affected her badly as she spiralled into depression. For months after he lost Akihito, he blamed his childhood sweetheart. He could admit now that it was his fault. He should have told the boy sooner. He could have divorced Akemi and kept both the kid and Akihito. Hiroaki would love Akihito. He was sure of it. But he knew that Akihito would never come back to him now. And so Asami spent most of his time with his son.

His son often spoke to him about his encounter with an angel. Initially, it had angered Asami that Akemi had filled his heir's head with such rubbish but Hiroaki's angel was not your average angel. This angel was not kind to everybody but only towards Hiroaki. This angel protected him and hugged him even though most people were uneasy around the child. Most of all, the angel Hiroaki described took on Akihito's form in Asami's mind for some reason. Asami had noticed that the child had that effect on certain people. Even the usually unruffled Kirishima had told him once that the 'Bocchama' gave him the shivers, as if he could see through the older man. Asami saw that as a compliment. His child was truly gifted with leadership qualities.

However, he never forgot the price he had paid for this domestic bliss. The day Akihito walked out of his life, he had stopped trailing him, stopped thinking about him, stopped watching out for him but he could never get rid of Akihito's parting words. It came to him on cold nights, warm afternoons, stroked him to arousal in the middle of the night, while eating, sometimes when he was brushing his teeth, and once while he was fucking a prostitute with blonde hair and small, taut breasts. No matter what he did, it stayed with him – calming him, soothing him, angering him, saddening him…

I loved you, you know.

.+.

If anything, Asami had become even more brutal over the years.

He ignored Akemi most of the time, except when he was mad and fucking her into the mattress. Asami had expanded his territory aggressively in the last six years. The corpses that he left behind had multiplied like flies. Asami ignored all of it. They had stood in his way and they had been eliminated.

His life was basically perfect. He had recently snatched millions worth of a weapon shipment that was heading for Russia – to a Mikhail Arbatov. Asami hated the man with a vengeance, especially now that he no longer had Akihito with him, his resentment for their past association grew to mountainous proportions. He wanted to see the Russian fall and break into pieces the way Akihito had during his kidnapping. Asami gripped his hand hard. He hated it when he thought back to Akihito. He hated that he still cared. The boy was still single, still handsome and still breathtaking. He had glimpsed his ex-lover once as he was crossing the street a couple of months back with his two friends in tow and it rankled – that he could live without Asami when Asami could hardly live without thinking of him.

And it was true. He thought of Akihito all the time. He missed Akihito's fire, passion and tactlessness. He missed Akihito's anger and teasing and shy smiles. Most of all, he missed the way the young man always seemed so lost in love with him – to the extent where he did things he normally wouldn't do. Asami felt lonely and incomplete. It was that void that was eating at him now, causing him to become reckless. Kirishima had warned him that he was making too many unnecessary enemies and in reply, Asami had laughed.

Asami was not afraid of death nor pain. He remembered the last time he had felt scared and the image of a broken and hurt Akihito floated into his thoughts. 'Yes, that's what I did to him.' He wanted to deny it but the image still pricked at him, guilt ripping at whatever remained of his heart.

His recent sex interest and mistress was what he collected as interest from a recently bankrupted CEO of a pharmaceutical company. Usually, he collected his dough in cash or valuables but when the girl came to him to plead for her father's life, it reminded him too much of how Akihito had looked after the kidnapping, when he shot Yuri in the chest. He took her then and there and then forced her into prostitution. Months later, when Akihito haunted his thoughts, he came to her. This time she had been willing and she fucked herself on him all night long. She had even dyed her hair blonde at his request. He did not even know her name.

So one night when Akihito voice repeated themselves in his head, he had Kirishima drive him to a hotel where he had his rendezvous with the girl. As usual, she took him in the mouth after he cruelly and brutally grabbed at her breast and bruised her arm. Not much later, she was impaling herself on him and continued to push down on him as he gripped at her hips hard while muttering coldly for her to move. In his head, it was Akihito's broken form he saw, sitting among the broken glass in the shadow of the sofa, whispering "I love you.."

When the girl suddenly pulled out a gun from under the pillow as she pushed herself on his hard arousal, cocked her head to side and smiled, "Hey, thanks for the fuck. Mikhail says he'll miss you but he'll be glad you're gone, you bastard", and pulled the trigger. But Asami heard none of that. As his eyes closed for the last time, it was Akihito's face he saw and Akihito's voice saying…

"I loved you, you know."

{Note}

Firstly, I'd like to thank everybody for all the reviews and follows and generally the support and encouragement that you guys gave me. I'd especially like to thank Setsuna24 and Yamiga for their advice and support. I took some their pointers and deliberated a bit longer about how to proceed with the story. Without that, this chapter would not be possible because I was originally going to move on with another time gap. The next chapter will be a more comprehensive POV that will take place across several timelines.

I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's sensitive to Asami's POV and sympathetic towards him. It's kind of sad. I felt crying as I was writing the end. It's just too sad but I wanted to show that despite the cruelty within him, he decided to let Aki go - even if that meant his death and destruction. i hope this makes sense to you guys because I wrote this in five 3 and the half hours straight and I'v hardly had time to edit but it feels right.

I also apologise for the delay because I recently got a job as a part time customer service personnel and I've been super drained everyday. It's tough and the pay isn't much (pittance, really) but i love it and my colleagues are really fun - except for a sexist, misogynist and chauvinist newcomer... I regret being so nice to him now.

Gotta go. It's late this side of the world and I have the morning shift.

{Footnotes}

Bocchama – short for Obocchama, means yound Master.