The drive to Ryuuken's house was made in silence. There was nothing that could make Uryuu start any kind of conversation with his father, and his blood was still hot from the fight and the anger. At the same time, Ryuuken was concentrated on the road, looking completely calm.

A-what-seemed-like-an-eternity later, they reached their destination. Still without exchanging a word, the two men got off the car and walked through the garden to the luxury house. Nothing has changed in all these years? Was Uryuu's first thought as he walked in. The house was almost the same as it was when he left. Only a few slight changes were made. But what captured his attention was how cold this house was. Not on terms of temperature –on that point of view, it was warm enough, almost hot-, but it seemed cold because it was like no one lived in it. Everything was so clean, so clinical, so abandoned. Like no one lived in there.

The silver-haired man didn't let his son stare at the house for long. With a nod, he made him follow him to his study room-the room Uryuu remembered his father spending most of his time in. Upon entering, Ryuuken headed to his desk and opened the bottom drawer. He took out what seemed like a big, old, dusty book. After blowing some of its dust off, he placed it on Uryuu's hands.

"What is this thing, Ryuuken? I'm not in the mood for your games."

"Why don't you take a look at it, then? I'm not going to say anything to waste your time."

Uryuu scowled and left the room. He went straight into the living room and sat on a chair, then he set the book on his lap and opened it. The 'book' was proved to be an album full of photographs. The boy was not prepared to face what was in this album.

Numerous pictures. Pictures of an era that seemed almost lost in time. Pictures that seemed to him impossible to exist. A beautiful woman, with a calm, serene smile. Holding a young man's hand. The man, tall, handsome, was looking at her with a loving look. Ryuuken?Another one. This time, this man, holding something covered in a blanket. Smiling wide-nothing like the stiff man that was looking at him from the door.

"What is the meaning of this, Ryuuken? What are all these?"

"What I meant to show you. Do you think things were always like this? Well, let me get you out of your little fantasy."

Uryuu narrowed his eyes. That's not something he could believe. Ryuuken was never the loving kind of man. Isn't this the reason he grew to hate him in the first place, anyway?

"Let's move on." Ryuuken moved towards the stairs and nodded for Uryuu to follow. He complied, walking speechless behind him. They walked until they reached Uryuu's old bedroom. Ryuuken refused to go in, so Uryuu turned on the lights. Nothing's changed on here either.His old bed, his old desk, with the books and the toys he loved to use as a kid, everything on place. Unused, forgotten in the dust of memory for years. And all still there.

"Ryuuken…." He tried to say, but his father cut him off.

"On your desk, there is a green notebook. Take it, along with the album, and go to your home. I'll drive you there."

Uryuu understood and went silent. His father seemed tenser than he used to be as he descended the stairs and walked slowly to his car, with his back turned on him. They both climbed into the car and they didn't talk again until they reached Uryuu's apartment.

"Off you go, Uryuu. Have a good day." With these words, Ryuuken turned his head away from his son's gaze and reached for the cigarettes on his pocket. He lit one and inhaled deeply, waiting for his son to get off the car. Even though Uryuu wanted to say something, he nodded in consent and jumped on the sidewalk. A cloud of dust was raised as the car took off fast and he gazed at the things at his hands before walking up the stairs to his apartment.