Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Eleven

"Ma….kino."

Makino stopped her frantic overwrought pacing and looked at Rui leaning against a pillar in the airport, looking down at his nails. His eyes glanced up at her and smiled. He noticed the way her body seemed to suddenly relax and he stood up straight to approach her.

"She'll be here," he assured her.

Akira sat in a chair watching the exchange shaking his head. He could almost understand Makino's mad nerves. It had been so long since any of them had seen Yuki. Nearly eight months. His arms rested on his knees and his hands twitched in anticipation. Yes, they had talked on the phone almost daily, but it just wasn't the same. Hearing her voice on the phone only made him miss her more, but he knew she needed this. She needed time to herself…time to become Yuki again. His eyes scanned the airport quickly. Soujiroh was about a foot away from the row of chairs Akira sat in, two women by his side and that usual arrogant smile that always seemed to rope him in a couple more girlfriends. Some things just didn't ever seem to change.

As the plane landed, Yuki felt her stomach jump into her throat. She was excited to be back and scared at the same time. Part of her didn't know what she would do if Soujiroh was there with the others. She just spent eight months getting past him, rebuilding herself and not to have it crumble the moment she saw his face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself, remembering Kenji's words when she saw him off at the airport only a week ago.

"I'll be waiting for you at the airport in Japan," he had whispered into her ear, sending chills through her body.

She opened her eyes and looked out the window at the terminal. She was home…she was finally home.

They all stood there waiting and watching each person that stepped off that plane and into the terminal. Soujiroh had already sent the two girls away with his number and now he looked just as nervous as the others. Still, a twinge of regret bit at him. The others got to see her off. The last time he had seen her, she dropped that chawan and swore to never let him hurt her again. The look on her face that day haunted him for eight months.

The Yuki that stepped off that plane was not the Yuki that had left on one. It wasn't the Yuki Soujiroh remembered seeing last in her room. This Yuki walked with her head held high and a smile on her face. Her eyes took in each face, not flinching at his presence. This was more like the Yuki that had stormed out of the room on him way back when Makino was first dating Tsukasa. This was the more confident, stubborn Yuki he remembered. This was an unbroken Yuki.

Makino rushed forward to hug her friend, Rui standing behind her to greet her and Akira stood there waiting for his greeting, unsure where their friendship stood when it could only grow so far via phone. Yuki stepped up to him. She lifted up her hand so that her sleeve fell back revealing the delicate platinum bracelet he gave her.

"Thank you," she whispered to him and then did the unexpected. She reached up on tip toe and kissed his cheek.

"Welcome home, Angel." He smiled, hugging her as he took the small bag she carried from her. "Let's get you home. Nishikado-san has been driving us all crazy calling every two minutes waiting on your return."

Yuki giggled and stepped to follow the path out of the airport. Soujiroh was standing there though, still observing this rebuilt Yuki. She stopped in front of him, everyone growing quiet wondering what would happen, if she would be okay. The seconds seemed like minutes. And then, Yuki bowed ever so politely.

"Nishikado-san," she said just as politely, not an ounce of hope in her voice, no lingering desire for attention…nothing. And then she stepped right past him, leaving him standing there.

It was an odd sensation when she did that. A strain of some sort in his chest. That hollowness that seemed to exist when she disappeared from his life seemed to grow when she treated him as nothing more than an acquaintance, if that.

Soujiroh turned to follow them when Yuki suddenly stopped. Something had caught her attention. Everyone stopped, heads looking up to see what was so fascinating to their missed friend.

The automatic doors of the airport had opened. A tall man, dark hair tied at the nape of his neck, swaggered in. He was obviously a businessman, his tie having been untied possibly while stopped in traffic on his way here and the top buttons of his white shirt lay open revealing a hint of the well toned chest beneath. Makino heard her friend sigh unconsciously next to her and turned to look at her almost amused and ready to tease her a bit.

She didn't get the chance to.

This man was so obviously in a hurry, running late, and looking for someone. But he didn't seem to look very far. The moment his eyes focused directly in front of him, his path did not waver. In quick long strides, he rushed up on Yuki, wrapping an arm around her to pull her to him and cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand as his lips crashed down on hers. A week was simply too long.

Akira and Soujiroh both jumped slightly, startled at the sudden ambush of Yuki and wondering if they needed to protect her, but she seemed to welcome his affections, giggling into the kiss at first.

"Next time," Kenji said in between kisses. "We take the same flight."

Soujiroh had watched this horrid display in front of him…this blatant disregard for the fact that not only were they in public, but this man was all but mauling Yuki in front of her friends, though Makino was smiling quite obnoxiously. Rui noticed the signs. The way Soujiroh's lips puckered in dissatisfaction, the way his cheeks seemed to suck into his face and the gleaming hate dancing in his eyes. And then, Soujiroh stepped forward and Rui had to act fast, reaching out and grabbing Soujiroh barely reaching him, pulling him back by the arm of his shirt. Soujiroh turned his glare to Rui, but by the time he turned back around, that man had already removed his lips from Yuki and Makino was shoving her way to the forefront of Yuki's little welcoming committee to meet this man, a huge delighted smile on her face.

His anger was so great that the words around him were muffled sounds of nonsense. It wasn't until Akira, who had been so quiet during all this, suddenly spoke knowing the man that had had his hands on Yuki.

"Kenji-san?"

Kenji looked up, recognition and realization on his face. He bowed his greeting and smiled.

"I had no idea the Akira-san my Yuki-chan was talking to all this time was you!"

Akira smiled in agreement. She had never mentioned Kenji, but he was not going to tell him that.

"Kenji-san," Yuki said. "You know Akira-san?"

He smiled down at her and nodded.

"Our fathers are old friends."

Yuki seemed to be working something out.

"So," she said. "Does that mean that your father…that he is also…" she wasn't sure how to say it, how to not sound insulting when asking such a question. She knew what a big name Akira's father was in the underworld of Japan.

Kenji smiled though, able to read her every facial expression and nodded.

"Yes, Yuki-chan. Our fathers are in the same business, but Akira-san and I are not."

She nodded satisfied with the answer. Kenji kept his hand on Yuki, whether it was on her shoulder, gently holding her hand, or wrapping his arm around her to pull her closer, he made sure some part of him was in contact, as if that alone sent a message. Then, his eyes landed on Soujiroh. His smile was gone from his face as he looked at this member of the infamous F4.

"And you must be the one that broke my Yuki-chan's heart."

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For some reason it was a relief when they all stepped through the door of the Nishikado house and Natsumi immediately pulled Yuki into a tearful hug, reminding her of how much she had missed the young woman. There was something satisfying in knowing that his family saw her as a surrogate daughter of sorts. It was as if the very thought and reality of his mother's feelings for the young woman verified his very right to still protect her.

But his mother welcomed Takahashi Kenji into her home, her eyes briefly searching her son for some sort of reaction to this man's appearance in Yuki's life, but she could find nothing. Soujiroh looked inquiringly at his mother, offering her one of his charming smiles that more often than not reassured her. His mother however was less skilled at hiding her thoughts and feelings.

Natsumi sat on the sofa, pulling Yuki into another hug, glancing at Kenji over Yuki's shoulder.

"This young woman is like a daughter to me. I've missed her so. And one day, she just may be my daughter."

Her eyes flickered to Soujiroh before setting Kenji with a cold look of disapproval. Finally, she released Yuki, smiling almost uncomfortably as she looked her over. Kenji chuckled slightly and pulled Yuki against him.

"I don't think I can allow that," Kenji said, silencing the room in a cloud of discomfort. His eyes flickered back to Soujiroh, a small smile on his face.

"I don't believe your son will allow that either," he added, pointing out what he knew about Soujiroh and his history with Yuki. "I believe that might just interfere with his…recreational activities."

"Kenji-san."

Yuki's voice caused a change in Kenji's facial expression. The cold hard look he had set Soujiroh with suddenly melted into a pool of warmth as he turned to look down at Yuki with a smile.

"Forgive me, Yuki-chan," he said softly. "The thought of losing you drives me a little crazy."

Natsumi laughed, quite uncomfortably, looking around at the young faces and standing up.

"I will give you all time to catch up and get to know Takahashi-san," she said. "There are snacks prepared in the kitchen and plenty of movies and such to entertain you." She bowed politely to the room and turned to leave them all for the evening.

She slowed down to a pause on her way out of the room right next to Soujiroh and Akira. Her eyes darted between the two boys before she set her son with a disgruntled look.

"If you are not honest to yourself soon, Soujiroh, you will lose any chance you had at happiness."

Natsumi swept from the room ignoring the mumbling sounds of Soujiroh's distaste for his mother's warning. Over by the sofa, Makino and Yuki were discussing watching a movie. Akira turned his eyes from Soujiroh. He would not watch the game Soujiroh liked to play with her. He simply would not allow it this time. He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.

"Yuki-chan, you choose…this is your welcome back gathering."

He despised being there in that room, sitting on the other side of Yuki, in the dimmed light of the TV. Kenji never seemed to let go of Yuki, keeping his arm around her as if afraid she would naturally drift away from him. There was something distinctly uncomfortable and bothersome about being there with them when no one else seemed to exist to them.

Had Soujiroh gotten into an accident on the way to the airport and he was damned to hell?

Akira sat in a chair off to the side of the sofa, eyes on the movie, but mind racing around all his memories trying to remember if there was anything about Kenji he should be concerned about. There wasn't much. Kenji was older than him. As kids, when their fathers would get together, Kenji and Akira didn't have much to do with each other, either do to age difference or the fact that Kenji always kept to himself. And as they grew up there was one thing about Kenji Akira remembered.

Kenji did not play well with others.

And then there was one more thing…one important point to Kenji Akira could remember, something that probably made him such an outstanding business man.

Kenji did not take losing very well, in fact, losing was not an option.

Concern trickled down Akira's spine and through his nerves. He turned slowly, eyes resting on Yuki sitting between the man that broke her heart and the man that could potentially break her.

But how could this be that cold businessman Kenji grew up to be? He saw his face in the airport. The panic when he first stepped in, knowing he was late, the warmth and relief on his face when he saw her. Even now, with Yuki curled up against him there was something gentle and warm in his face. Akira looked away. At least she seemed happy.

Yuki suddenly sat up straight.

"I'll go get the snacks haha said was in the kitchen."

At her words, Kenji looked up.

"Yuki-chan? Do you often call Nishikado-san, haha?"

She looked at him with wide innocent eyes and nodded.

"She made it very clear when I first came here that she wished to be another mother to me…though not to take mine's place."

Once again that satisfying feeling filled Soujiroh. Kenji turned back to the TV as Yuki left the room. He looked anything but happy. But still, it was just more proof not only to Kenji but to Soujiroh that Yuki was so ingrained into Soujiroh's life that she would never truly be gone. Even with Kenji around. After all, Yuki very comfortably called his mother, mother. And where that scared part of him into a nervous desire to run, it still stirred something, embellished the feeling that his displeasure with Kenji was justified…as her protector…as a surrogate brother.

Yuki didn't hear him come into the kitchen. Her back was to the doorway, facing the open refrigerator. It wasn't until she found the tray of fruit and pulled it from the refrigerator, turning around to set it on the counter for the moment that she noticed Soujiroh standing in the doorway. She froze.

"Nishikado-san!"

His eyes seemed to look through her. At the sound of his name, so formally spoken on her lips, he glanced away, eyes falling on a bowl of fruit. He picked up an apple, anything to not look at her, to not having that confusing amalgam of feelings stirring. He still didn't say anything to her. He heard her sigh and then go about her work, grabbing drinks to distribute and doing everything she could to ignore his presence in the room. When he heard her movement, he looked up. She moved so comfortably about his family kitchen. It was like she really was at home there.

Yuki pulled drinks from the refrigerator, eyes avoiding Soujiroh. How could he do this? How did he have that kind of power? It had been eight months. Long enough that she believed…hoped she was over him enough that his presence could not affect her. But his presence still dominated any room she was in with him. Surrounded by others that power was muffled, tampered down by the presence of others, but alone in that kitchen it was suffocating.

She felt like someone was holding a pillow over her face and she fought to keep her breathing calm, reminding herself how happy she was without him. She no longer had to fight and struggle to reach some level for Soujiroh. She no longer had to try to please him.

He was nothing.

She turned toward the counter, reaching for the cabinet where the glasses were kept. She had only sat two on the tray in front of her when she felt his overpowering presence behind her. She automatically tried to pull away from the heat of his body, but found the counter she was pressed against stopping her. She could feel his body move as he reached above her, grabbing a glass and setting it on the tray in front of her, one hand resting on the counter on her right, his left reaching around her to set the glass down.

His eyes looked down at her still form. She didn't appear to be breathing as he pulled the glasses one at a time down, slowly setting them on the tray. She fought it. She fought his overwhelming powerful presence and refused to become the old Yuki. She closed her eyes, fighting to remember how she was hurting…how long she spent away from her friends to get past him.

Her scent was oddly intoxicating. It was nothing new, the sweet scent that always seemed to follow Yuki. Perhaps it was the absence of that scent tickling his senses daily that created a drug like reaction in him now. He closed his eyes and inhaled, slowly and deeply.

"I missed you, Yuki-chan," he whispered, convincing himself there was nothing wrong with that admittance. She was a friend after all.

Yuki opened her eyes and turned around, intent on leaving, but found herself boxed in between Soujiroh's arms and the counter.

"Let me go, Nishikado-san," she whispered.

With his hands on the counter on either side of her, he was forced to bend down toward her slightly; still she had to look up to look at him. Her words were whispered while appearing to look him straight in the eye as if her physical reaction would show him her defiance of his game, but her quavering voice did nothing but show her…fear. She feared him. And with that thought Soujiroh felt like someone had just dumped ice water over him.

"I just want to apologize," he said softly.

He watched her falter. Her eyes flickering around, looking away from him and settling on some spot on the floor to the side of them.

"I don't want your apology," she whispered, refusing to look at him.

Soujiroh could not take it any longer. Why wouldn't she just look at him and let him apologize? He dropped his right hand from the counter and reached out to gently touch her…to gently lay his hand across the line of her jaw and guide her back to him. The moment the skin of his fingertips brushed the delicate line of her jaw, she cried out as if he had caused her pain.

"Soujiroh!"

"Yuki-chan!"

Soujiroh didn't have time to even turn at the sound of his name. Yuki was tore from him, pulled into the arms of Kenji and she gladly clung to him as if Soujiroh was something to be saved from. The moment Kenji had her in his arms, safe and warm he reached out and grabbed Soujiroh by the front of his shirt, shoving him hard against the counter and keeping him there as he leaned into his face. Yuki watched, shoving the memory of Soujiroh essentially doing the same thing in her name once out of her mind.

"You touch my Yuki-chan one more time…you cause her any pain, emotional or otherwise and I will tear you apart with my bare hands and mail you piece by piece back to your precious mother."

One more good push against the counter and Kenji let him go. Soujiroh's temper was getting the best of him. When Kenji turned with Yuki to leave, Soujiroh stepped forward.

"Soujiroh," Akira said from his position by the door.

Soujiroh looked at him. Akira shook his head and waited for Yuki to leave the room with Kenji.

"I thought these games were over, Soujiroh," Akira said stepping farther into the room.

"I was only trying to apologize."

"I don't think an apology can fix what you've done."

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He tilted the small cup, pouring the liquid fire down his throat, wincing only slightly at the burning sensation that was slowly numbing with each shot.

"I don't like him," Soujiroh said as he slammed the glass down on the table in front of him, picking up the bottle and pouring more.

Akira poured his own glass of fire down his throat, not disputing Soujiroh's assessment of Kenji. He poured another glass as well and sat back. This was different. This wasn't Soujiroh inadvertently hurting Yuki…this was someone else. Akira remembered writing the note he put with her gift the day she left. Slight regret was creeping in. She wasn't ready to hear anything like that and yet he had written down his hopes on that little piece of paper, a piece of paper that seemed forgotten.

Soujiroh took a deep breath and laid his head back on the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. The Yuki that came back wasn't the same. He didn't know what he expected though. Did he expect her to come back full of that never ending hope, still following him around? Did he expect everything to go back to the way it was?

If he was honest with himself, everything was back to the way it was before he had helped her get a bit of revenge on her cheating boyfriend. He was perfectly free to leave places with varying women without having to hear how he was hurting Yuki, without seeing that face…that fallen face of lost hope. He wouldn't turn around and find her there following him anymore. It would be like before he picked her up crying on the street corner. It would be like his life before Yuki had so abruptly become a part of it. It would be…everything he had hoped for all that time…everything he hoped would happen had happened. He snatched the glass off the table and angrily poured the fire down his throat, nearly throwing the glass back on the table.