Chapter 11: Desperation


"Takato-chaaaan, take pity on me huh? I'm dying here."

"Then you're gonna need a burial soon, buddy, cuz the Boss ain't moving." The voice was dry as the woman on the other side of the phone answered him. "In fact, I've never seen him so lethargic. Are you sure he has the hots for Nami-chan?"

"The hots? Try a whole bonfire." Tsuchiura shot back. "Something which I'd rather not think about at the moment. Or any moment. Come on, sweetheart, you have to know something. Being the ace reporter for StarMedia and all…"

"Sweetheart? Man, Ryou-kun, you must really be desperate."

"Isn't that what I've been saying?"

"Well, I'm sorry I can't help you. Nami-chan just gave in her two weeks resignation and skedaddled." He caught the mild concern, and that helped to relax his jaw. A bit. "I mean, what's up with that? She had such a good career and everything, then just chucked it out the window and flew to America. Didn't even tell us why."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Women.", and sighed. "Well, if anything comes up…"

"Yeah yeah sure. I gotcha. Hey, if you ever see Nami-chan again, tell her we at Channel 57 miss her, yeah?"

"Will do."

He clicked off, and thumbed another number. "Yo. Len."

"Tsuchiura."

"Ryou-kun! Ryou-kun! Ohayo!"

"Settle down, Kahoko."

Tsuchiura smirked.

"Anyways, what do you want? On a Sunday morning, no less."

"Morning? Kid, lemme tell you, around here we call anything after twelve 'afternoon'."

"…Kahoko, check the time for me?"

"Kay! It's two, Len-niichan."

"…"

Tsuchiura smirked again. "What'd I say?"

"Whatever. I'm a busy person here, Tsuchiura. What'd you want?"

"Amou's location. Gimme."

"What? She's staying with us, naturally."

"Ok. Ok. Can you keep her there for another month?"

There was a sigh from the phone. "Impossible."

"Oh, come on man, what do you mean 'impossible'?"

"Do you have difficulty deciphering the spoken English language, Tsuchiura? Or is your brain naturally akin to that of an ape's? Impossible means impossible."

"Don't get smart on me, boy. I still have them contacts down at Immigration."

"It's hard not to, you make it too easy."

Feeling his molars grind away at each other, Tsuchiura unclamped his jaw again. "Ok, whatever. Tell me why it's so impossible to keep Amou there."

"She's was never planning to stay in the first place." Len said patiently. "She's moving somewhere else."

"…And you have no idea where."

"None whatsoever."

"…Oh. Shit."


Len clicked the phone shut, and turned to face Amou. She sat on one of his immaculate sofas, sipping coffee. "I have five dollars," she said dryly, "that says Ryou-kun is on the phone with the boss man. Right now."

"If he decides to find you, you won't be able to run for long, you know."

"No worries. He won't come here just for me." She took another sip. "And besides, even if he does…well, he's not the only one with contacts."

"He's the only one with his kind of contacts."

"Still." Face set, she set the cup down with a clink. "He won't find me. Even Yunoki Azuma can't access my personal information, and that's the least he's gonna need. Unless you interfere…"

"I gave you my promise, didn't I?" Len asked her, irritated. "If you want to be idiotic and stubborn, far be it for me to stop you. But this won't work."

"It will."

"It won't."

"It will!"

"Amou, be reasonable." Len said. "This is Yunoki we're talking about."

"I don't care." she said stubbornly. "He can be the King of England as far as I'm concerned. Besides…" her voice shook a little. "It's irrelevant. Azuma will never come to look for me. I'm just doing this because I know he travels to New York a lot, and I'd rather not let him know that I'm here."

I want to disappear from his life forever.

Len's eyes shifted and locked onto Kahoko.

"Nami-chan, you're leaving us?" she whined on cue. "But you just got here! Kaho wants you to stay!"

Amou smiled, and patted her hair. "Sorry, Kaho-chan. I just came for a short vacation, you know? Gotta find me a job and start eating again, 'cause you know, Len doesn't stock anything edible here."

"What's wrong with yogurt?" he muttered.

"Nothing if you're on a diet." she retorted.

"Kahoko's fine with it."

"You mean, Kaho-chan doesn't complain about it."

"There is nothing wrong with eating healthy."

"Fine. We'll ask her." Amou turned, only to find that Kahoko disappeared as soon as the argument started. "Huh. She's gone. Smart kid."

"That she is." Len said, smiling. He leaned his arm on his thigh, and propped his head on his other fist. "Amou, think about it. What's the point of all this moving?"

"Len, please."

"How will we contact you after you're gone?" he continued relentlessly. "We won't know where you are, what you'll do, nothing. We won't even know if we'll see you again."

Amou ducked her head and sniffed. "Come on. You're acting like I have some terminal disease."

"You do. Stupidity."

"Hey. Don't confuse me with Tsuchiura, thanks." She raised her head, and he was a bit relieved to find her smiling. "Now, stop ragging me Len. I'll be fine, like I told you before. Unless you want me to start on Kaho-chan…"

He beat a hasty tactical retreat, scowling. "Fine."

"Ok then. Well…" Cup rattling, she picked it up and moved to the kitchen. "I'm ready to go whenever." He could hear her bustle around the kitchen as she rinsed and put the cup away. "Call the taxi, would you? I think I'm going to make some tea. This coffee is complete crap."

"Sure, whatever." he muttered. "First my manhood, now my coffee. I never get any peace around here."

So saying, he picked up the phone again, and dialed.


He couldn't concentrate.

The voice droned on from the speakers built-in under the grand marble table, surrounded by lawyers and executives with him at the helm. "Our company would be glad to join Yunoki Industries…within these limits…our lawyers have written them out…"

An administrative assistant ran up to each lawyer and executive, placing hard copies of the negotiations in front of each person. At the other end of the table, a big screened television captured the images of another boarding room, one that was not quite as grand as this one, with another set of grim faced executives and their equally grim CEO. Small wonder, Yunoki thought, as their company was going under.

But for the first time since that disastrous day months ago, he couldn't focus, and the blame again lies at Amou's door.

"Journal Daily is to be a corporate arm of StarMedia, under these following provisions. That our employees would not be fired nor replaced…"

He was letting them dictate their own terms, and that must not happen. But he can't seem to concentrate enough to pull it together.

"And that our head of departments be allowed to stay at their posts unless specified otherwise, and in that instance, a pension of this amount be awarded to them…"

He flicked a hand to ward off Daily's CEO, and nodded at a woman in purple sitting at his right. To those who sat at the Daily's boardroom, they were too worried at the turn of events that signal might cause to notice that the others who sat with Yunoki were also surprised. "Yunoki-sama…?"

He merely quirked a brow and they desisted. The woman he nodded to merely raised a brow in a similar manner, and magicked more papers out of thin air. "Very well. Mr. Steinberg." she said in precise English, "Please allow me to speak in our president's place. As head of the legal department representing Yunoki Industries…"

He kept his eyes on theirs across the screen, face blank, and gave no other indications of his unrest.

The haggling continued for hours more, with both parties throwing veiled threats and shoving weight at each other, but in the end, Journal Daily bowed its head and admitted loss. To lessen the hostility and lubricate any rough edges, Yunoki agreed to keep their CEO as the manager for Yunoki Industries' newest corporate news arm.

The screen blanked off on eleven unhappy faces as Yunoki stood up to address his team. "You did well." he said, smiling slightly. "Please continue your good work on this project and all future endeavors. Dismissed."

They all filed out, straight as a file as he sat, piling papers. He didn't notice the woman in purple nod his secretary away, and settled behind him. She hugged him from behind as the door clicked shut behind him.

"Why are you so weary today?" she asked him, her cheek resting on the top of his head.

"Hmm?" He shrugged, and barely resisted a sigh as she squeezed his shoulders. "Not really. It's just been a long day."

"It's barely 12."

"I had an early morning. And Kobayashi offered me some tea. Chamomile. It's just catching up with me right now."

"Kobayashi? You've been down at Star Media's news station?"

"Contingency meeting regarding Daily Journal. We had to prepare for the absorption of another company."

"I see." And she did see. Rarely have the great Yunoki Azuma deigned to worry about trivial matters like the take-over of a second rate news company in the Americas. She leaned over to kiss the top of his head. "You should stop being so stubborn, and just chase after her. Onii-sama."

He frowned at the casual address. "Don't be impertinent, Miyabi."

She frowned at him mockingly. "Don't be so idiotic, brother."

He really did sigh, but leaned his head back against her. "Miyabi…really. Why do I keep you around?"

"Because I'm the head of legal defense for your company, brother. And as a certified lawyer, I'd advise you to drop the tough guy act and start getting the girl back."

"Advice rejected, counselor."

She straightened. "Don't let grandmother poison whatever happiness you could have had with Nami-chan. She may control the family, but only you control your life."

"Grandmother?" Yunoki let out a short bark of laugher. "Without grandmother, I would have never known that she ended whatever life we'd made between us. God…I still cannot believe it."

"And here I am with the world's tiniest violin." she quipped. "Stop it. There is no way Nami-chan would have an abortion just because grandmother offered her money."

"The medical bills, the doctors…."

"This is grandmother we're talking about." she said impatiently. "Ms. Family-Honor. You knew she hated Nami-chan from the start."

"And I suppose even our infamous grandmother could magically generate false photographs, huh?" Yunoki said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "As well as bribe a good doctor and falsify bills, medical records, statements, and the like? With her skills, I'm surprised that Yunoki Industries only control the Japanese economy instead of global trades and universal stock markets."

"Well, she had to leave you with something, after all." Miyabi said good-naturedly. "And I'm not quite sure our PR could've taken care of grandmother's style of rapid world domination at any rate."

"Yes. Well…" he placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "Whatever. Be a darling and check my schedule for the day. It's in the planner there."

She picked up a handsome, leather bound address book. "No PDA?"

"I hate those things."

"Hmm." Lips pursed, she flipped through list upon list of appointments, meetings, and notes written out in neat, slanted print. "Well, lookie here. You're free for the rest of the day."

"What?" His eyes popped open. "That's not possible. Give it here."

"Nuh uh. I guess you'll have to wait till tomorrow to extend our economic reach past Japan. Don't make me throw this out the window." she threatened as he made to stand up and make a reach for it. "You know I'll do it."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would." She sat at the other side of the table, smiling. "You know, of course, that this is merely done out of our company's concern for our much beloved President."

"Really?" He bared his teeth. "Fine. Miyabi, you're fired."

"Really?" She pumped her free arm. "Freedom! And for my first deed among the ranks of the unemployed, I bid you sir, good day. Oh, and I'm taking this with me."

She sailed out with his appointment book clamped securely under her arm. "I expect to hear my dearest brother make plans to visit Daily Journal. ASAP."

He could only groan. "When she comes back," he muttered. "I'm demoting her."


Murder. It was all she could think. It was murder. She wants me to murder it. She wants me to kill this dear little life growing underneath my own heart.

The tea sat in front of her, cool and untouched, and looking at it made her want to cry. She clenched her teeth to stop the hot tears from spilling out.

Oh, God, no.

She didn't know how many times she repeated that, or how long, but all she could remember was the feeling of helplessness, of repeating the same words until her joints ached and the mantra was a slur behind her throbbing eyes. Godnononopleasegodnobegyou- it all bled into a murmur, until her plea was a wordless, whirling, sickening thing.

Run.

Gentle eyes and soft hands covering her raw face.

Run.

She looked at the girl in front of her, and wondered. How was it possible that a monster could produce two such wonderful, beautiful people? She clasped at one of the wet hands like a lifeline. I don't know how. I don't know where. Miyabi, please, if there was anything-anything-

She just shakes her head. I'm sorry.

Sorry.

What a simple word.

Sorry.

A simple, wonderful word.

Sorry.

Let it erase everything.

She ran underneath dark, pouring skies.

If I can't have that life-

"Taxi!"

If I can't have that life-

The rain, sloshing over sidewalks and running down the window of the car-

Please. I only want one thing.

Cars surrounding them and the driver stopping while she curled into a ball and hoped that it was enough-

Just one thing.

"Get her out of there!" Men in black suits, dragging her out of the back seat. One of them held a needle in his hand as bruising hands gripped her still.

"No. No. NO!"

A wrenching fall into the darkness.

Just one thing.

Waking up to find herself in the clean, soulless room of a hospital, her once engorged stomach now deflated, knowing that she had failed to protect the one last thing that was left of her life-

Please. Let me save my baby.

"Oh. Oh God. Oh God."


She opened her eyes as the tall buildings of Manhattan flickered by, the vibrant blue dimmed by tears.

Oh, God.

Why didn't you answer me?


"Why don't you answer me?"

The picture in his hands crinkled as his hand closed into a fist.

Why don't you ever answer me?

"Azuma, what's the point of going over the past?"

"What's the point? You dare ask me that?"

I only want to understand.

" It's my turn to ask the questions. Why did you run? Why did you abort our baby?"

He willed her to look him in the eye and say something. Anything. But she just laid there in the small van, monitors flickering blue light over them both. "Why won't you answer me?"

"There's nothing to say!" she shouted. "It's done! It's over! I…I…I just don't want to talk about it anymore."

He could only be shocked at the vehemence in her tone, and she took the chance and escaped from his grasp. "Please, Azuma. Don't approach me anymore. Don't talk to me anymore. I never want to see you again. From now on…From now on, we're truly finished."

It's done? It's over?

He stared at his hands. A crinkled sonogram laid between them, a remainder of those happy days before the world collapsed around him.

It's finished.

Like hell.

The phone was in his hand before he knew it. "Takashi."

"Sir."

"Book me a ticket to New York. Ten AM."

They weren't finished by a long shot.