Serious time were squeezed out for this chapter, won't say much more other than this: Please enjoy!
Chapter 13: Horizon Line
It was positive.
The little white stick trembled in her hand as she sat down on the toilet in disbelief. Two pink lines. Positive. It was the fifth test, and all had had the same result. "Oh…oh shit."
How was she going to tell Azuma about this?
But a larger part of her had eclipsed the worry with an overwhelming joy. A baby. She made a baby with Azuma. They were going to have a baby.
She rubbed a hand over her still flat stomach, wondering just how far along they were. "A baby…"
She knew she should be anxious and worried. There was nothing she knew about being a parent. They were both only twenty three, and although younger women than she had raised children without a hitch, there was no denying that she was not prepared to be a mother.
But still…a child…
On impulse, she tossed the stick out and rushed out of the bathroom to grab up the phone. Before the receiver had time to pick up, Amou had blurted out as fast as she could. "I'm pregnant!"
And within half an hour, had settled down with tea, a couple of tissues, and a comforting ear.
"I still can't believe it, Nami-chan." Yunoki Miyabi sat next to her, her hands cradling one of Amou's. "Pregnant. With Azuma-nii's baby."
"I know." Amou said, hushed. She gripped Miyabi like a lifeline. "A baby. I still can't believe it."
"Did you make an appointment with the clinic? Sometimes these pregnancy kits make mistakes."
"Al l five?" Sandy brows raised over her expressive eyes as Amou looked at Miyabi in disbelief. "Surely not? And I-I can't even think of making one right now."
"You must." Miyabi said firmly. "Tomorrow. I have a friend who works for a wonderful maternity clinic, I'll get her to squeeze you in for an appointment." She smiled for the first time. "A child. Oh, congratulations Nami-chan! I know you and Azuma-nii would make good parents."
"Ah," Amou eased her hands away, and twisted them together. "I…I…don't know. I didn't tell Azuma about the child. We weren't supposed to conceive, we both made such precautions, and well…Azuma might not want it." she finished in a whisper. "We're not even married."
"He doesn't know? You told me first?" Miyabi placed her hands on Amou's shoulders, shaking her slightly. "You must tell him. If it's his baby, then he has a right to know."
Does he really? Amou bit her bottom lip. There never were words of commitment between the two of them, and if it had made her uneasy as their relationship had progressed, she never paid attention to it, knowing full well that there would be no such thing as marriage between them. There was no way the matriarch of the Yunoki Empire would let someone such as herself sully the bloodline. A middle class commoner had no business on the Yunoki family tree, and it was something she had made clear three years ago when Yunoki had bought Amou there.
It had been her first visit, and her last.
"We wouldn't get married, at any rate." Amou knew without looking at Miyabi that she had understood why. "And I don't want my child to live shuttled between the two of us. Also, when Azuma decides to marry and start a family-" Her voice broke slightly, but she took a deep breath and continued. "When he does, I don't want him to do so knowing that he'd conceived with someone else first. It's too much to handle for both. I'd rather my child live without that kind of pressure."
"Don't be stupid, Nami." Miyabi snapped. "You're going to deprive your child of a father, and Azuma-nii of his child. It's not fair to them." Her voice gentled as Amou's eyes started to water again. "And it's not fair to you either. Nami, I'm sure if you told Azuma-nii, he'll find a way to make everything alright."
She wants me to depend on him? Amou nearly laughed. If there was one thing she learned in her relationship with Yunoki all these years ago, it was to never depend on him for matters that were out of their control. But maybe…
"If." Amou said hesitantly, "If there is a right time, I will speak to him about it."
"Atta girl." Miyabi smiled again, and brushed a hand down her cheek. "But in the meanwhile, you won't mind if I come over a lot more, right? I have to make sure that my future nephew or niece gets thoroughly spoiled, and what better than to start early?"
And for the first time in a long while, Amou laughed. "Oh, Miyabi-chan. Fire away."
Sitting at an ornate oak desk, the sun pooling behind her back, her hands clenched as she read the detective's report. A few key points had jumped out at her, and pulling out another sheaf of paper, her face had turned even redder.
Whore. Bitch. Slut.
Three years ago, when her Azuma had started…started…interacting with the commoner, she had hired the first detective. It hadn't mattered to her that the girl was bright and vivacious, or that she had been Azuma's schoolmate for years at Seiso. It hadn't mattered that Miyabi liked the girl, despite her criminally low social status. And it definitely hadn't mattered that Azuma looked happier and smiled more often since.
She was not of a high enough tier to be worthy of a Yunoki.
She had made sure to impress this upon the girl, and of course, the girl had not dared to contradict her. What more is there to be said? She was bright, she'd give her that. The girl knew marriage was out of the question for the two of them. But after two months had passed, she couldn't hold it back anymore.
That's when she hired the second detective.
She hadn't pushed all that much, simply because it wasn't time for Azuma to marry yet, and boys will be boys. Wild oats must be sown before they settled down. Of course, she hadn't expected this kind of behavior from him, but if it was done discreetly, then what was the harm?
But now-
The biweekly reports came in as normal, and although she was getting uneasy with the long tenure of their relationship, she let it go. It was her mistake. She saw it as a name continued to come up in relations to that of Amou Nami.
Yunoki Miyabi.
She had hired a third.
Report: Target seen entering one Amou Nami's residence, exited three hours afterwards. Established pattern notified by report, schedule attached.
Report: Target seen exiting residence with Amou Nami, both seen entering Moto Health Clinic via private car.
Report: Target seen entering one Amou Nami's residence, following established pattern.
Report: Amou Nami is confirmed pregnant, see attached doctor's report and medical bill-
Report: Amou Nami is confirmed pregnant, see-
Report: Amou Nami-
First Azuma. Then Miyabi. And now…now…very calmly, she picked up the elegant ivory penknife and ripped each report to shreds. Now, the bitch was pregnant with Azuma's child. A lowly, disgusting, dirty commoner was carrying the baby of the man who stood to inherit one of Japan's most powerful corporations, as well as her most established family bloodline.
That simply must not happen.
Twenty-one years of living as a daughter of the Yunoki household had taught Miyabi many things, the most useless of which were the tedious flower arrangement and tea ceremony classes. But she could not deny that living with a woman like her grandmother also taught her some very useful skills. One of which was becoming very handy right at that moment.
A flip of her compact and some clever angling confirmed her suspicions. Grandmother. The man might have been dressed casually and his blonde head might have been bent over his laptop, but his spine was too stiff. Nor did his carefully casual pose hide the tense, ready to move stance of his body. She sighed in disgust, wondering if it was possible to lose this one. The last four certainly hadn't made it easy for her.
She didn't have anything to hide from her grandmother certainly, but dammit, it was the principal of the thing. Keeping the compact open, she took a couple wide steps forward, and smiled as the laptop closed. Knew it. She shut the compact, and eased it into her bag.
Then broke into a run.
She relied on the years of afterschool track club training that had carried her past numerous bodyguards and others hired to keep an eye on her, training that had started ever since she realized that the man who was trailing her home every evening was hired by her family. "It's the bodyguard, or the driver every morning and every evening." her grandmother had told her firmly when she complained.
She had picked the bodyguard, but that didn't mean she had to keep him.
She had an innate talent for dodging pedestrians and sideway obstacles, and it showed as she swerved around a startled grandmother doing her grocery shopping, the guard hot on her heels. She chanced look over her shoulder, grinning as he was stopped by the granny and given an earful. He tugged on his jacket with a snarl.
"…young punk, bumping into people and not even apologizing!" she squawked after him
The chase continued for a good twenty minutes, but by the time she had to stop to take a breath, the man was nowhere to be seen. Making her way to Amou's apartment, she watched in surprised as several men in suits exited the building and drove away. Eyes narrowed, she made her way upstairs.
One look at Amou's face as the door opened had her heart dropping. "Nami-chan?"
Amou's face was swelled and reddened from crying, eyes blank from shock. "Miyabi-chan…" With a wail, she slumped on the younger woman, sobbing hard.
She rubbed her back, pulling her inside. "Nami-chan, what's the matter? Here…" Dragging her friend inside, she kicked the door shut and led her to the couch. "Come on, Nami-chan, all this crying's bad for the baby. Tell me what's wrong. Is it Azuma-nii?" she said, teasing. "Did he do some stupid man thing again? I'll help you bust him to his knees, he has quite a few weak spots."
Amou just shook her head, her sobbing subsiding to whimpers. "I'm sorry, Miyabi-chan. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"For what?" Her voice carried a tinge of impatience as she patted Amou's face with a tissue. "I promise I won't get mad, whatever it is. At least until the baby's born."
"He won't be born!" Amou yelled. "He won't, he won't, he won't. Not my baby. Oh-"
"Stop that." Miyabi said angrily. "What do you mean, he won't be born? Don't tell me you changed your mind?"
"Me?" Amou took her head from her hands, and laughed hysterically. "Me? How could I change my mind? My baby…"
"Then for God's sake-"
"It's your grandmother," she said, defeated. "Your grandmother. She found out."
It took Miyabi several seconds to find her voice. "No. Oh, no."
"I don' t know what to do." Amou said, her voice shaking again. "She said-she told me to kill-my-my-I can't-"
"An abortion?" But Miyabi didn't have to look at Amou to know the answer. Sick at heart, she watched as her friend turn paler and paler. "Oh..."
"I can't do it!" Amou cried out. "I can't! I won't! Not my baby, not the baby I conceived with Azuma-I already love him so much," she finished quietly. "It's like he's already real to me. My son. Or my daughter. I don't care. It's my child! How could she- how could she ask me of this?"
"No more." Miyabi hurried to her friend's side, and wrapped her arms around her as Amou wailed. "Honey, please. No more."
"I'm so scared." Amou said. "I'm so scared, Miyabi. I don't know what to do. I can't have that abortion. But Azuma…what will I tell him? She tells me I have until next week to have the operation. Miyabi, I don't want that."
"Of course not." Miyabi said fiercely. "And you won't. A plan." She looked around in desperation, still holding on to Amou with both arms. "We need a plan."
Her hand clenched as her eyes settled on an empty suitcase in Amou's open closet, before sliding up to cover Amou's wet face. "A plan…"
Amou looked up before following Miyabi's line of vision. "Oh…" One simple word, and it held all the understanding and heart break in the world. It was all she could say. "Oh…oh…"
"I'm sorry Nami-chan…I'm sorry..."
I'm sorry.
She wished she could say more.
Sick guilt churned in her belly as she sat in her room, thinking about how she had packed Amou's things that very day, Amou herself sitting on the sofa, shock and exhaustion bleaching her skin white. Miyabi hadn't had the heart to make her friend do it herself, and so had rushed around the apartment, finding essentials and shoving them haphazardly into a suitcase. "Passport…ID…"
"Nami-chan, let's go."
"Oh."
She had gone first to make sure that there were no guards standing outside, and when she saw that the coast was clear, had gone to call a cab from her cell phone. She had stayed long enough to see that Amou was safely in the car before slamming the door shut and giving the driver rapid instructions. "Narita Terminal Airport. Hurry please."
"Yes'm."
Her biggest regret was not being able to say goodbye.
But at home, when the summons from her grandmother's personal secretary came, she knew that it had all been for naught...
The matriarch of the Yunoki clan, dressed impeccably in a silk kimono and seated behind her grand hardwood desk, had calmly told her granddaughter of Amou Nami's decision to have an abortion. "The surgery is done."
It was an accusation, and although Miyabi was composed, her hands clenched together on her lap. Fear and anger added to the guilt rolling greasily in her stomach.
You made her do this!
"She no longer bears a child of the Yunoki family-"
No-
"-and as such, there is no more reason for a woman of your status to associate with a woman of hers-"
Oh, no-
"One who would give up her child for money."
She felt like weeping.
She could feel the cold eyes of her grandmother boring through her own, and it took hard effort to not burst into tears in front of her. She wanted to rage and scream, and rip at the perfectly coiffed hair and carefully arraigned silk, and-
"Do you understand me, Miyabi? I will not allow this impertinence of yours to continue any longer. Obey me."
"…Yes, Grandmother."
"Good." she had said, as small, stingy smile stretched across her lips. "Then I trust you to act as accordingly. Never forget your family honor, Miyabi. Never."
"I shall be the one to inform Azuma of this." she continued. "Dismissed."
Oh, Nami-chan.
I'm sorry.
So sorry.
Although the apartment was little bigger than a broom closet, she had still hoped to make it a cozy, comfortable home. There was very little furniture, but she made up for it with playful splashes of color among ceramic vases and furry rugs scattered on the polished hardwood floor. Straightening one of the rugs, she looked up and smiled. Years of living in similar apartments- of moving from motel room to motel room on some assignment somewhere- had taught her the value of living in frugality, but nevertheless, there was nothing of her old life in this small, cramped apartment.
If there was a feeling of something lacking here, she chose to ignore it.
Mint green curtains framed what the landlord had generously called a window, and a teruteru bozu hung whimsically outside, smiling at the room. Bowls filled with colorful pebbles sat at the windowsill, and she crossed over to take one of them in her hand.
The buzzer sounded suddenly, and she dropped the pebble back into the bowl before running over to the intercom. "Yes?"
"Nami-chan!"
"Kaho-chan! Len's with you, right? Come right up guys."
Dressed in another frilly dress of Len's choosing, Kaho looked up as the buzzer sounded and the door opened, her hand swinging of its own accord. "Demo…Nami-chan doesn't know. That's ok, isn't it? Nami-chan won't be mad at Kaho?"
The hand holding hers tightened briefly, before Azuma smiled down at her. "It's fine, Kahoko-chan. She'll be so mad at me, she won't even have time to be mad at you. Now, don't get Tom-san in trouble, ok? I'll see you later."
"Hai!"
Azuma turned to the silent man who trailed behind them. "Make sure you keep an eye on her at all times." he said in a menacing whisper. "Just one hair…"
"Yes, sir."
And with that, he walked into the building.
He knew who she was expecting, and so, had merely smiled at the stunned shock on her face once she opened the door. "W-w-wha-"
"Hello, Nami. Mind if I come in?" He brushed her numb fingers from the doorknob, and propelled her into the room. "Len's a little busy, so he asked me to bring Kahoko-chan instead. This is a nice apartment." He continued, looking around. "Bit cramped though, if you ask me."
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "No refreshments for your guest? My, what poor hosting."
She found her voice again after working her jaw for several more minutes. "What is this, Azuma? Why are you here? I told you to never appear in front of me again. Oh god, where's Kaho-chan?"
"Kahoko is fine. She merely expressed a desire to explore the city, and so I left her to the care of my chauffeur." He sat, and smiled despite her flushed face. "It'll give us time to chat."
"We have nothing- god, Azuma. There is nothing!" She turned, but before she could reach the door, Yunoki's hand had already turned the lock with an audible click.
"No." He said softly. He shifted his body until she was caged between him and the door. "No more running away. Not anymore."
Before either of them saw what was coming, she slammed a fist into his stomach. He gave a strained gasp, and slumped over her.
"Well," he coughed out. "At least you didn't go any lower." He caught her hand before she could punch him again, and they struggled with each other before he threw his weight behind him onto a rug. They rolled until she was underneath him, his hand bracketing hers.
Panting, he caught the look on her face, and burst into laughter.
"What," she said between clenched teeth. "Is so damned funny?"
"This. Us." His free hand came up until it framed her face, her hair caught between his fingers. "Remember how we would always end like this after an argument?" He sighed. "My dear, you always had an unfortunate inclination for violence."
"I-I can't help it! You're so damn stubborn and hard-headed. It's-it's the only way for someone like me to win." she said, frustrated, unaware that she had started to cry. "Why couldn't you just have left well alone?"
"There, there." He shifted again, her head cradled against his chest. "There, there…"
"You don't understand." she sobbed. "After all, you're just a man. Just a stupid man."
"I suppose so." he said soothingly.
Her sobs petered out moments after, and she shifted her head to the side, embarrassed. "Sorry. Your shirt was silk and everything."
"Don't be stupid."
She sniffed once, and smiled. "I forgot. Your biweekly paycheck's the kind that could buy you not only the shirt, but the factory that manufactured it."
"Don't forget the store, sweetheart." he murmured, irked.
"Right, right. Well. Can I get up now?"
"No."
"…Azuma." She looked up at him, and even with her puffy, red rimmed eyes, he couldn't help but think her rather cute. "Nami." he said just as solemnly. "D' you know that, right now, you look so very much like a rabbit?"
"Oh, shut up." she said, sniffing again. "And stop changing the subject. Let me up."
"No." Her face tilted away from his, and he used his hand to shift it back. "Look at me."
"Don't wanna."
"Nami. Please. I…I…I just want to know. Just to know." His forehead brushed hers as he lowered his head. "Please…"
The truth? He wanted the truth. "You wouldn't believe me anyways."
"Try me." He reached down to intertwine a hand with hers, and bought it up to his lips. Brushed it once, twice. "Try me." he whispered.
She could feel the rough, scratchy rug on her back, his lips, the proximity of his face to hers. Just like before. In another life, they would have laid on the floor, in laughter instead of tears. And it was the remembrance of themselves as they were that finally prompted the story, the pain and loss and regrets that had been stored up in her very being vying to let loose. She took a deep breath.
And told him everything.
Long, shapely legs peeped out from beneath a deep wine skirt, a gold pin glistening from the lapel of the matching suit jacket. It was undeniably a good color for the brunette, and he imagined that she knew it too. Unable to help himself, he whistled.
Damn, but she's grown up fine.
He pushed down the sunglasses so he could get a clearer view; at the same time, her eyes flickered and landed on his. He could see just a bit of a sneer curl her lips; then her eyes narrowed as he grinned at her, and tapped a finger on his hat where a similar gold pin glistened.
He saw her smile as she walked towards him. "Tsuchiura-san."
"Don't you mean Creeper-san?"
She laughed at that. "I'm sorry. I thought you were, uh…"
"I was." He roared with laughter at the look on her face. "Kidding, darling. You don't mind if I call you Miyabi-chan, do you?"
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse the sudden intimacy, but his smile was so very engaging….and he had her bags in his hand. "Oh. Sure."
"Atta girl." He took her arm, and weaved them both around other passengers boarding planes at JFK International Airport. "Damn, I hate major metropolises. This is almost as bad as Narita."
She winced as a blonde woman bumped her, and another man stepped on her foot. "I wholeheartedly agree."
They both breathed a sigh of relief as wide automatic doors opened, and they stepped out into a lane filled with taxis and people. She looked down at his hand on her arm as they rushed past the throngs of New Yorkers coming home from business trips and vacations, frowning. It was disturbingly broad and tanned from the sun. What the hell was a musician doing with tanned skin?
Despite the rapid clip they were moving at, she tried to tug her arm free from his grip. It loosened slightly, until his hand was once again tightened at her wrist. "Tsuchiura-san, I can walk by myself-"
He only raised a brow at her, and looked down at her three inch heels. "I'm sure you can. But I don't want us separated."
"Demo-"
"No buts, princess." He grinned, and wriggled his eyebrows. "Unless you'd like for me to carry you?"
She just glared at him. "It's fine."
Within minutes, she found herself seated in a compact electric blue sports car before they slid away from the bustle of airport traffic and speeded down an expressway. The top was left open, and she put a hand up to her hair.
"No, don't do that." She turned around as Tsuchiura grinned again, his eyes on the road. "I think you'd look better with it loose."
She frowned, and jammed pins back into the neat bun. "My hair isn't any of your concern, Tsuchiura-san."
"What a pity." he sighed. "This isn't a business trip, Mademoiselle."
They barreled down the Brooklyn-Queens expressway in silence, Miyabi faintly irritated. She didn't care for the immediate intimacy of the man. The fact that he was rather attractive added to her perplexity, instead of easing her mind.
It wasn't until they were cruising along FDR drive, coasting along the ridge of highway hugging Manhattan's Upper East Side, that she spoke again. "Tsuchiura-san."
"Hmm?"
"My brother…when he had left Japan... how did he seem to you?"
His eyes rested on Roosevelt Island for a minute before he responded. "Huh. Well, to think about it…he got pretty bombed."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Sloshed, inebriated, totally plastered." He turned to smile into her stare. "Shocking, I know. But even the great Yunoki needs to unwind now and then."
Her brother, unwinding? "Are you poking fun at him?"
"Honey, he sucked down a good bottle of Jim in less than three hours." he said unsympathetically. "Took him another day to throw off the hangover. But then he went, pretty as you please, to call up a limo and dragged Kaho-chan after him." He sat back with a sigh of amusement, hands light on the wheel. "Well, Azuma was never someone that lacked balls, that's for sure. It runs in the family?"
"I certainly hope not." she said faintly. "My liver would give in a week at that rate."
"That it would." he said, and jerked the wheel as they swung out of the highway and onto the street. Miyabi picked herself up from Tsuchiura's side where the momentum had thrown her and looked around, expecting the same skyscrapers and elegant condominiums that had been stacked some yards behind them. Instead, stubby brick projects squished together, and where there had been elegant grass walkways intertwining with wrought iron gates and small ponds, instead was a crisscross of cracked and dirty pavement, stained with things she doesn't even want to think about. Stocky men stomped around in their dusky, sunburnt skin, shouting at passerbys. Tsuchiura's cheerful cursing blended in with the cacophony of ill mannered honks and screeches of the cars surrounding them. "Tsuchiura-san, I thought we were going to see Tsukimori-san first. Where are you taking us?"
"Figure we bothered Len enough these past few days." Tsuchiura said casually, and swerved just far enough to avoid clipping another car at the left. "Poor guy looked like playing nursemaid for your brother was going to kill him, so what the hell, might as well give him a bit of a break. No, we're heading straight off for Amou's."
"But I thought Azuma-nii was there now." Miyabi said. "Wouldn't we disturb them?"
"That, or we might get the best seats in the house." he said, with another one of his grins. "Got popcorn and twenty that says pretty boy'll be down on all fours, wearing a collar and whimpering like a puppy by the time we arrive."
She grinned back, showing teeth. "You obviously don't know my brother, Tsuchiura-san. Better make that a fifty."
He roared with laughter again. "Deal."
They pulled up underneath the shadowy outline of the Brooklyn Bridge, and she stared past his profile to watch several men dangling lines over the side of the East River. "Do they actually eat their catch?"
"Hmm? No." He didn't bother to look over as the car swung right. "They sell them."
"I can't imagine the fish would be fit for human consumption."
"Well, you do what you gotta do." He shrugged, and then stopped in front of a dusky brown apartment complex. "There we go."
"We're here?" She tipped her head up, frowned. "It's rather…rather…"
"You do what you gotta do." he repeated, leaning over. Then chuckled as she stiffened.
"What, Tsuchiura-san," she said frostily, "Are you doing?"
"Well…" he let his eyes slid up from the pin on her lapel until they met hers. "Got some ideas, do you? Hold onto them, we'll try them later." And with that, he flicked the lock off the door with a finger. "After you, ma'am."
They rang the bell, and looked at each other when the buzzer sounded immediately afterwards. "I don't see Azuma-nii's car."
"He took a limo here. Maybe he told it to take off for a while."
Worried, Miyabi bounded behind Tsuchiura, past the rickety elevator. They both leapt on the smudged stairs, her heels clicking hard on the cracked tiles.
"Careful you don't twist your ankle on those silly heels of yours." he said, looking behind him.
She just huffed. "I won't."
They ran up four flights of stairs, both gasping slightly. Tsuchiura straightened first, and took her arm. "This way."
They stopped in front of a door at the end of a dimly lighted hall. Miyabi raised her arm to knock, but Tsuchiura just twisted the knob instead. The door swung forward easily, and they both stepped into silence.
"Nami-chan? Azuma-nii?"
"Miyabi-chan! What are you doing here?"
Miyabi whirled around to see Amou standing in front of the bathroom door, her eyes tinted red. "Nami-chan. Oh, Nami-chan." She ran forward, and hugged Amou as hard as she could. "I haven't- I-"
"I missed you too, Miyabi-chan." Amou lifted a hand until it rested on Miyabi's dark hair. "You look so sophisticated now! I almost didn't recognize you." She looked over and saw Tsuchiura. "Hey, wait. What the hell are you doing here?"
"Forget that." Miyabi said impatiently, pushing herself straight. "Why are you here by yourself? Where is Azuma-nii?"
Tsuchiura looked from Amou to Miyabi, and back again, confused when the older woman only smiled.
"He's gone." Her smile widened even as her eyes became wistful. "Back to Japan."
Annndd that's it! End of an arc, but definitely NOT the end of the series! Definitely look forward to upcoming chapters, and as always, your reviews (long, loooong reviews!) are always deeply appreciated. Thank you~!