Word Count: 5,424
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane-sensei. OCs are mine.
Beta: PrincessofTor
A/N: The fanfic gods sent me a princess to beta this fic. Thank you, princessoftor XD. I tinkered with it some more after she edited it, so any leftover error is mine. It took me forever to find time to write this, and since I haven't written anything for a while, it was a little bit harder. O.o Thank you for your patience. Also, this is one angsty chapter. Sorry about that. But I already warned you guys ages ago. You're stuck on this ride with me now. *pats your back*
Chapter Summary: Defiant Akihito + Stubborn Asami = Frustration
* Warning: Some violence and mature language
Chapter 11: Dissension
A strong gust of wind blew past the withered leaf clinging desperately to its last anchor, a weather-beaten branch of an old plum tree. But the branch itself eventually gave way and broke from its source with a loud snap, which caught the attention of the man who had been standing at a short distance from it. He bent over to pick up the stray branch. Using his fingernail, he scratched at the branch's dry and flaky outer layer, digging in further and further until the rotten core was visible.
He scrutinized the dying tree. Only five years had gone by, but what a sorry state it had become, sharing the same fate as the rest of the objects in this ghastly-looking garden. Neglected. Forgotten. And for a moment, images from his past began to flood into his consciousness, but he ruthlessly blocked them. They had no place in his present. With very little effort, he snapped the branch in half and tossed the pieces into a pile of decaying leaves on the ground.
The sound of shoes on gravel drew closer until it stopped just a few feet from where he was. He ignored the intruder.
"Takamura-sama, Fujita-san is here. Do you want me to direct him to the garden?"
The man didn't answer, and his subordinate didn't dare to speak any further. They were all well taught to keep their mouths shut unless spoken to.
"I'll be in the tea house," he finally answered. With one last look at the garden, he added, "Burn the tree."
The yakuza boss followed the gray and white gravel path that led him to the place where he had first met her. Half-hidden among the overgrown flora was a small, traditional tea house built when he bought the temple ten years ago. Unlike the main building and garden, the tea house was the only place well-kept. His men had taken care of it per his request. The rest of the temple grounds didn't concern him; she cared more about them than he did.
Sliding the shoji door open, he peered inside to see that everything was exactly the same as he had left them. It was here that he contemplated the cause of her death after burying her cold, lifeless body. And it was also here that he swore to put a bullet through the head of Izumi-gumi on her death anniversary. Unfinished business had led him here once again, and he would see it to the end even if it killed him.
A tapping on the door interrupted his thoughts. He settled into one of the black zabutons. "Come in."
Fujita, his second-in-command, entered the small space followed by another underling carrying a tray with tea pot and cups. Fujita knelt on a zabuton across from Takamura as the other underling placed the tray in front of him before returning to his duties.
The yakuza poured himself a cup of tea.
"Takamura-sama, let me deal with Asami. The others are getting restless," Fujita said with clenched fists, "That scumbag killed too many of our men. If you let me, I will-"
Takamura gestured for the other to stop. Without answering, he reached for a bottle of pills from his pocket and produced two white capsules. Fujita watched him with a mix of fear and frustration.
"Boss?"
"I'll deal with Asami," was all the yakuza said before swallowing the capsules along with some tea.
Although Fujita's face was strained with contained irritation, unable to hide his dissatisfaction with his boss' nonchalant reply, he didn't dare voice his protest. Takamura poured some tea into a different cup.
"You shot Nojima. I don't remember giving you that order."
Fujita tensed instinctively after realizing where this might be headed. He served the man long enough to recognize the edge of danger in the yakuza boss' tone of voice. "I didn't have a choice, Boss. He was helping that little punk, and if it wasn't for him, we would've gotten Asami's pet by now and my men wouldn't have had to die in vain."
Takamura watched his subordinate with an unreadable expression. Asami was his enemy, but also a cunning and cautious man. Although he had not expected a retaliation in the form of an ambush, it was a gesture and Asami's answer to his invitation to war. Fujita failed to understand that Asami was more than capable of procuring information through other means. He greatly underestimated their enemy and paid a heavy price, the loss of his two lieutenants.
"All I wanted was to teach him a lesson for interfering with our business," Fujita added, desperate to strengthen his excuse.
"Have some tea," the yakuza said as he offered the cup he poured earlier, "I insist."
Fujita looked at his boss with uncertainty. The man's cold, gray eyes betrayed his kind offer, and the boss knew that he hated tea. He held out both hands to accept the cup because it was an offer he couldn't refuse. But Takamura lifted the cup higher and began to slowly pour its content into the other's outstretched hands. The scalding liquid seeped through the delicate flesh in between his fingers and dripped onto the tatami mat. Fujita grunted in pain, but didn't dare to withdraw his hands.
"Have another." The yakuza boss poured a second cup in the same manner, all the while, maintaining an apathetic attitude as he watched his subordinate's struggle. Every muscle in Fujita's arms screamed for him to do everything, but subject himself to the torture. The skin on his hands was now raw, displaying an angry red, the sign of nerve damage from exposure to extreme heat.
After the third cup, Takamura finally stopped, and despite his shaking hands, Fujita thanked his boss for the tea.
"My orders are absolute. Don't disappoint me again."
Fujita bowed. "Thank you for giving me a second chance, Takamura-sama."
Meanwhile, unknown to the occupants inside the tea house, a young man in his mid-twenties stood outside, waiting for the opportune moment to interrupt. He had heard everything, but chose not to interfere as it wasn't his place to comment on a superior's method of punishment. Digging into his suit pants pockets, he found the dark chocolate bar he always carried with him for these situations. He popped a piece in his mouth, savoring the bitter taste before knocking on the door.
"Come in."
Fujita looked over to see who it was as he had not expected the boss to meet anyone else but him. "Tetsuya?" Fujita said with shock evident in his voice. "Why..."
The man named as Tetsuya ignored the other and bowed to his boss before making himself comfortable on a zabuton. Sitting side by side, their differences were like night and day. Tetsuya was milder in appearance as his fair complexion wasn't marred with scars or tattoos like Fujita. Save for the crimson short hair he was sporting, which stuck out like a sore thumb, he looked nothing like a high ranking member of a Yakuza family.
Tetsuya stole a quick glimpse of the blisters on Fujita's hands before addressing his boss. "Takamura-sama, I've done everything you asked me to."
"You seemed upset, Tetsuya." Takamura took a sip of his tea.
"No, I'm just a little sad that you didn't tell me about your release until now, but I'm in no position to question your motive."
The yakuza boss watched the younger man's blunt attitude in quiet amusement. Following in his footsteps, Tetsuya was the next senior adviser in charge of handling the group's political and financial affairs. Promoted to the position when he was only 21, Tetsuya was an adept tactician, despite his unique personality.
Tetsuya continued, "Some of the junior executive members who are loyal to the previous boss are upset with your upcoming appointment. They're questioning your claim to the leadership, especially after five years of absence."
"Then they should realize that the previous boss was nothing but a useless puppet. Maybe if I have a gun pointed at the back of their skulls, they could see things a little clearer," Fujita interjected.
"And how do you plan on doing that? A hostile takeover of the group? Would you like to kill the rest of our members too?" Tetsuya quipped.
"What do you know? You haven't shed a single drop of blood for this clan, so don't act all high-and-mighty. I have had enough of your sissy bullshit. Don't tempt me."
Takamura regarded the bickering before him with disinterest. If they could agree on anything, it was that they openly hated each other, but at the same time, both served as a power check in case one of them had any idea of betraying him.
Turning back to his boss, Tetsuya casually ignored Fujita as if he was just some bug on the wall. "Takamura-sama, I wouldn't put it past Asami to try and interfere with our meeting with the other clans."
"The men you sent today did well in distracting Asami. His men didn't show up during my release."
Tetsuya looked at his boss wearily. The man rarely complimented anyone. Did he screw up somewhere along the way? At 8 am in the morning, he received a phone call straight from the man himself to send over a few of their political allies, more accurately, clients of Asami who were secretly indebted to Matsuda-gumi. The distraction tactic worked, but he didn't know that the boss would be released much earlier than expected. The man had kept him at arms' length in these matters until the last possible moment, always careful that none of his subordinates knew more information than the others. In fact, he had only learned about their deal with Murata just two weeks ago.
Next to him, Fujita offered a mocking laugh. "That scumbag wouldn't dare to do anything stupid in front of the police even if he knew. If he thinks he can ambush me a second time, I'll pull the trigger on his little bitch before he can even blink."
''Asami is a smart man. He'll figure it out sooner or later," Tetsuya fired back. "The higher body count on our side is a testament to that. And maybe you should consider using that tiny pea-sized brain of yours to think before you speak. Your blatant incompetence did nothing but put Takamura-sama in an unfavorable position with the group."
Fujita's temper flared because that was the last insult he could withstand from some 26-year-old kid who probably never held a gun in his life. Just because the punk could handle a few of the group's affairs, he thought he could walk all over him. Fujita reached out to grab Tetsuya's shirt collar and yanked him closer until their faces were inches apart.
"I'll kill you right here if you make one more stupid comment. Don't tempt me, you little punk," Fujita spoke in a low growl.
"Enough," Takamura finally intervened when the two looked like they were about to rip each other's throat out. "Tetsuya, don't provoke him any further."
Fujita reluctantly let go of Tetsuya who fixed his shirt as if nothing had happened. "I'm sorry, Takamura-sama. I'm just frustrated that I was kept out of the loop for so long. If you had given me the chance, we wouldn't have lost so many of our men."
"I only need you to worry about the group's finances and the government. Fujita can take care of everything else in my stead."
There was a moment of silence as Tetsuya debated over the next subject. It'd be unwise to antagonize the boss in his current state. Despite his calm exterior, Takamura's temper was much worse than Fujita's and his taste for punishment was a reflection of that. But he also didn't want to come here for nothing. He made a promise to someone, and he intended to keep it.
"Takamura-sama, you allowed me to leak the meeting location to Kichirou because you knew that he would contact Asami's lover, didn't you?"
The Yakuza boss watched his subordinate with quiet indifference, but his eyes dared for the other to continue.
"At the time, I didn't understand why you didn't stop me, but now, after knowing, I couldn't help but feel that I've betrayed him. He came to see me not too long ago, upset because he thought that his own father had used him to set a trap for someone else."
"He came to you for information out of his own volition. I don't control who he sees or doesn't see."
"He wants to talk to you," Tetsuya added.
"That's unnecessary. If you don't have anything else to report, you may leave."
"Takamura-sama-"
The yakuza boss shot his subordinate a chillingly cold glare, warning the other not to take the subject any further. And after several more seconds of tensed silence, Tetsuya was sure that he would never be able to convince the man otherwise. The two subordinates took their leave shortly after.
After leaving the temple ground, Fujita walked over to Tetsuya to deliver what he had been holding back the entire time. "You always mocked me in front of Takamura-sama, but I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to say those things in front of him. I swear I won't hesitate when he orders me to slit your throat," Fujita said with a manic grin on his face. "I'll enjoy every moment of it."
But Tetsuya was undaunted even if he knew that Fujita wasn't the type to make empty threats. He shouted after the other man, "We should go out for ice cream sometime. Maybe I can recommend a good mental health doctor for you while we're at it."
Once Fujita's car was out of sight, Tetsuya heaved a heavy sigh, relieved that he didn't have to continue wearing the mask of sarcasm anymore. Meeting with Takamura in person always made him feel as if he was being summoned to a trial...with a potential death penalty on the table. Popping another small piece of bitter chocolate into his mouth, he wondered if the boss would contact him any time soon, or should he stay this way, not knowing when the bloodbath would take place. The situation had taken a turn for the worst, and he was growing anxious with every unexpected development.
Akihito checked his digital watch for the umpteenth time, the gray pixels on its tiny screen ticked ever so slowly, as if time had slowed down considerably whenever he was with Asami. He resumed what he had been doing for the last thirty minutes, which was staring out the car's tinted window. Surprisingly, he didn't know he had it in him to practice patience when it came to Asami, and the bastard always mocked him for it, but this time, as he told himself, he wouldn't let Asami get his way.
Shifting his attention to the outside world once more, he focused on the blurred outlines of cars as they zoomed past in the opposite direction. The August sun was just beginning to set, and its orange glow formed a radiant backdrop against the dark silhouettes of tall buildings, the prelude to Shinjuku's famous night life. People of both worlds would come out to play and mingle during these hours. The enticing sweet words of a host or hostess, the false promise of a lucky break in pachinko parlors, and even the temporary bliss of a drunken stupor all drew honest wage earners to these nighttime establishments like moths to a flame. But behind the bright light, neon signs, and flashy LED screens lay a vast network of corruption, businesses with pseudo legitimacy and the people that controlled them.
It was the norm that publicly prominent men would shake hands with underworld players, sealing secret deals behind closed doors in the VIP section of an elite club somewhere. And deals made between men with such agendas always gave him the highest kick of an adrenaline rush. If only he could see the look on their faces when they discovered photos of themselves caught in the act on the front pages of every major newspaper.
But the irony of his situation suddenly dawned on him. He should be out there, free to chase a lead somewhere, finding purpose and pride in working and supporting himself. Not sitting here like some captured pet being chauffeured back to his fancy cage. If a divine being did exist, he surely liked to jest because sitting next to him was none other than Asami Ryuichi, a man whose involvement with the underworld seemed to extend far beyond his imagination. An elite and powerful player in this sleepless city.
The deep voice drew his attention back to the presence next to him. He looked over at Asami who was still preoccupied with a phone call as usual, conveniently ignoring him like he was just there for the ride. The man barely said anything to him since he last uttered the other's name. Perhaps it was more unusual that Asami simply waited for him to leave the safety of the bathroom and followed closely behind in every step. Midway to the car, he thought about making a run for it, but fought off the idea as this was probably his only chance to confront Asami.
Though for some reason, he couldn't find the right words, and the urges died just as soon as they came up. Could it be that Asami's silence had set off his unease? He had expected some show of disappointment or even a condescending comment or two, which he was fully prepared to throw back at Asami, but none was given. Maybe this was Asami's way of punishing him. He had no idea. Not that he was feeling guilty for eavesdropping, no, but he was sure as hell not giving in to the silent treatment if it meant Asami would win.
He continued to watch Asami quietly, completely in denial of his own frustration until Asami turned his head a little, as if sensing he was being watched, and their eyes met. Asami held his gaze as he continued to speak to his important client on the phone, his expression, the normal facade of indifference, but Akihito watched him long enough to notice the hint of irritation in those golden orbs. He wanted to win their little staring battle, he really did, but something was bothering Asami. It was a fact. Asami wasn't smoking either which only made his unease worse. This wouldn't end well for him. Asami was holding back something, and he wouldn't like it.
Goddammit. He'd rather deal with the usual insults than this.
Scratching a not-so-itchy spot on the back of his head, he grumbled something incoherent and fixed his gaze outside once more, letting his mind wander to anything else, but Asami.
On the window's glass surface, a small, mysterious glob of something sat in the corner, barely visible to the naked eye. He wondered what it was. Asami usually kept his possessions clean and orderly; the man was like a neat freak. Reaching out to investigate, he stopped midway and withdrew his hand. The pair of eyes was still watching him. Asami would just make fun of him for being so easily distracted by some stupid smudge. The man had a way of making him feel...small, openly fascinated with his behavior, like an adult who patronized a child's struggle to understand the world.
Ten minutes later and the car arrived at the front entrance of Asami's building. He practically jumped out of the car before Suoh and Kirishima could reach the door in time and slammed it shut, albeit rather loudly. As soon as his feet reached solid ground, the thought of escaping popped up again, but the sting in his knee convinced him otherwise. He breathed in deeply, as if he had been denied of proper air for a long time.
Whatever Asami was doing, it was working. There. He admitted it. But two could play this game.
Feelingly slightly vindictive, he walked briskly over to the elevator and ignored the concierge's greeting. If he could beat the others to it, he would enjoy watching Asami's face as the elevator doors shut on him. But alas, things would never go his way because Asami and his henchmen were right behind him.
The elevator trip, however, was even more awkward than the one in the car. The suffocating silence was beginning to grate his nerves. He even considered banging his head against the back wall to escape it, but thought better of it. So he focused intently on Asami's broad back instead. The fluorescent lighting within the elevator accentuated Asami's dark suit fabric in great detail, revealing small wrinkle. The slight tension in Asami's shoulders betrayed his normally cool composure.
Asami was the first to walk out once they reached the top floor, but Kirishima and Suoh let him past before following. It was a rather strange gesture. Something was up. Maybe Asami had ordered both of his best men to guard duty this time, seeing as how his other men were too incompetent. He convinced himself that must be the case.
But something told him otherwise when Suoh and Kirishima didn't enter the penthouse, and the heavy tension pervaded the air that surrounded them just like how it was in the car. Well, shit. Suddenly feeling as if he had been led like a lamb to the slaughter, he looked over to Asami with a confused expression, panic growing from within.
Asami didn't pay Akihito any attention and simply headed for the living room. Akihito followed him half-heartedly, vacillating between confronting the man and retreating to his room to think of a better plan. Something was wrong, Akihito was sure of it. If it was a normal backlash to his disobedience, he could deal with it, but Asami's unusual show of restraint reminded him too much of the time they had talked after the night of the stakeout incidence.
Asami dropped his leather briefcase on the coffee table, took off his jacket, and settled on the sofa as if the thick unpleasant cloud above them was nonexistent. Asami procured something from his jacket and threw it on the table before lighting a cigarette.
'Oh, now you're smoking.' Akihito thought as he narrowed his eyes on the object. It was just a white envelope, seemingly harmless in appearance, but he had a feeling that he wouldn't like its contents very much. It was always a do-or-die thing with Asami. So he remained at a distance, not that Asami would hurt him, but the man had a nasty habit of punishing him in ways he'd rather not think about at the moment.
A few minutes of absolutely nothing passed. Not a single word was spoken.
Bastard.
Growing impatient, Akihito bit the bullet and went straight to the subject. "My memory card, you have it, don't you? Give it back to me."
"Are you done with your little tantrum?"
Akihito wanted to punch the bastard, but that would only further reduce his chance of getting the memory card back. "Is this your thing now? Treating me like a child because I asked for something that actually belongs to me? You won't tell me anything and now this?"
"The little stunt you pulled today wasn't enough proof of that? Tell me, Akihito, why should I trust that you won't just hand yourself over to the enemy like you're doing now?"
"They're your enemies, not mine. You told me to stay out of it, but disclosed nothing about this Takamura guy or why I should be afraid of him."
Asami stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. He fixed an intimidating gaze on the photographer. "Don't be naive, Akihito. The job you're so proud of and the world it belongs to is filled with my enemies. However, my business with Takamura is none of your concern, so stop acting like a brat and do as you're told."
"So these were the words you meant to say to me that night. What made you hold back? Pity? Because you thought I blamed myself for getting someone else hurt? Was that why you told me about Matsuda-gumi and their illegal business?" Akihito said bitterly, his hands now curled into fists at his sides. "You thought that feeding me some information would be enough to scare me away. How pathetic I must have looked for believing for a moment that you took me seriously."
"No, I told you about Matsuda-gumi because I wanted to get it through your thick head that these men are dangerous, far more than the typical gang you're used to. Although I would've chained you to the wall if I knew you'd be stupid enough to walk into enemy territory."
'Asami, just how far do you have to go to undermine my work?'
Akihito bit his lower lips hard enough to draw blood. He knew about the danger that entailed this type of work, but he wasn't suffering from a delusion of grandeur either. He didn't think he was a hero or even a vigilante, out to rid the world of all its crimes and corruptions. As much as he wanted to cuss out the bastard's arrogant assumptions, he was already at his wits' end. The promise he secretly made to Yukio that day-to return Yukio's parents' honor, he intended to keep or at least try his best before giving up.
Using sheer willpower to clamp down on his anger, Akihito spoke in the most controlled tone he could muster, "Those pictures, I need them." He had only begged Asami once before. It was the time when Fei Long was holding his friends hostage, and Asami mocked him for it. But he had already gone too far to back down now. "Please give them back to me. There's someone I want to help with those pictures, and they're my only chance."
"You can't help him," Asami answered in his usual matter-of-fact tone of voice, but Akihito looked up at him in shock.
"You-you knew about Yukio?"
"There's nothing that you can hide from me that I won't find out eventually." Asami approached the photographer. Using a thumb, he wiped away the small droplet of blood on Akihito's lip, but Akihito pushed his hand away.
"Then you should understand the reason why I want that memory card. Do you think it's funny to lead me around in a circle like this?" 'How much more do you want me to beg you?'
Asami turned to retrieve the white envelope from earlier, and Akihito suddenly wondered if it contained pictures-his pictures. Now that he thought about it, he never even got a chance to look at them as he was too busy running for his life at the time.
"You're leaving Japan in two days," Asami dictated as he handed Akihito the envelope.
But Akihito could only stare at it in disbelief, convincing himself that he must've misheard the man somehow. "Wh-What? What do you mean I'm leaving?" He wanted to be told otherwise, that he was wrong, that he was hearing things, but the envelope's content only confirmed one of his worst fears. Inside the envelope was a first class plane ticket to a city whose name he couldn't even recognize somewhere in Australia.
"Is this your answer?" The question slipped from Akihito's lips. When the reality of what was really happening finally dawned on him, his heart sank. The weight of the piece of paper was heavier by tenfold. Everything was beginning to make sense now. All the dodging, the show of restraint, and the lack of a punishment were all for this reason. So that he could stay quietly in his little cage until he was ready to be shipped away to some foreign land for God knows how long. It had always been Asami's plan from the beginning.
'You're a very cruel man, Asami.'
As tears of anger began to cloud his vision, he struggled to read the bold print on the ticket over and over again. But the thought of being forced against his will to leave his friends, family, and life behind invoked a deep-seated frustration that never left him since the Hong Kong incident. Why do people like to do whatever they wanted with his life as if he was only an invisible spectator coming along for the ride? No, not like this. Not again. He would fight to the bitter end.
He hastily wiped away the tears and steeled himself. "No," he paused and their eyes met, "I don't want to leave. I won't."
Asami saw the fierce and defiant will burning in those hazel orbs, but he couldn't afford getting Akihito caught in the crossfire in his feud with Takamura. "That's no longer an option. Keeping you here will only interfere with my plans."
"You can think whatever you want, but I'm not a piece of property. I have my own life, a job, and people I care about here. I can't just drop everything and leave because you think some sociopath is out to get me, who by the way, is still a freaking mystery because you refused to tell me anything." Akihito looked at the ticket one last time before crumpling it up and throwing it back at Asami. It bounced off Asami's chest and landed near his feet.
"I also won't subject myself to living like this-living in fear, not knowing when that bastard will try to hurt my friends too.
Asami took a step forward, his expression a shade darker than before, but Akihito had made up his mind to fight, so he held his ground.
"Don't test my patience, Akihito." Asami's voice was low and dangerous.
"If I'm just a hindrance, then kick me out. I came here of my own choice, so I'll leave the same way," Akihito said before turning to leave, half expecting that Asami would stop him. However, Asami didn't even lift a finger, let alone stop him.
Without bothering to grab some extra clothes, money, or any of his belongings, he made his way to the penthouse door. But upon opening it, he found Kirishima and Suoh standing right outside, blocking any chance of escape. He stood there dazed for a moment because he had forgotten about them. Asami really did plan everything.
A hand grabbed him from behind and he instinctively flinched. "Let go of me, you bastard!" He tried to yank his wrist away, but that only caused Asami to tighten his grip. And much to his dismay, he was pinned against the genkan's wall before he could protest any further.
"Calm down, Akihito."
"You're a goddamn bully, that's what you are!" Akihito spat back. But all his shouting and struggling were to no avail. Both of Asami's hands firmly gripped Akihito's shoulders, holding him in place, and no matter how much he pushed agaisnt the strong chest, the bastard wouldn't budge.
'Why must I feel so helpless against this man?'
Tears began to well up in his eyes again, threatening to flow, and he was afraid he could no longer hold them back. Trapped. Powerless to change the situation, Akihito knew he was fighting a tough opponent. He needed to get out. Somewhere. Anywhere, but here.
Asami simply waited until Akihito regained some of his composure again. He admitted that for a split second, he lost the rein on his temper when Akihito threw the ticket at him. He wanted to teach the boy a lesson and break that stubborn will. But after seeing Akihito...in this state, finally breaking down after putting up a tough front, his heart had softened considerably. Loosening his grip on the now slumped shoulders, he lifted the boy's face to see the hurt behind those hazel orbs.
But Akihito diverted his gaze, feeling too mentally and physically exhausted to fight the other man. He dragged himself to his bedroom, and Asami didn't stop him, but didn't follow him either.
"Asami-sama," Kirishima spoke up when his boss seemed lost in thought. He and Suoh had been quietly watching on the sideline, preferring not to interfere with the man's private affair.
Asami sighed. "Print another ticket. He destroyed the first one."
"I understand. Do you want me to get the car?"
Asami thought about how he had been ignoring Akihito for the last couple of days. "No, I'll work from here. Cancel the rest of my meetings."
A/N:
- Updated the Character Guide. I only have one name left to add, I promise lol.
- The main antagonist's POV was interesting to write. I was stuck for a while trying to decide if I wanted to reveal a key detail, but it felt right post-writing it.
- Note: All the POVs in between chapters 8 and 11 are supposed to show two sides of the same coin (a slow burn to Asami and Akihito's argument). Humans are complicated creatures. Our words don't always reflect what we truly feel, and I wanted to convey that through the two main characters. Akihito is a little more honest with his frustration than Asami, so his POV should identify more with the reader.
- That slow burn though . *runs away*