Hikaru awoke amongst FeiLong's hair, but he didn't open his eyes.

His mind, still numbed with sleep, suggested him not to move, not to raise his eyelids, not to do anything that could make this dream - whether this was a dream - vanish.
He felt tapering fingers gently brushing his hips, and his eyes, still warmed by sleep, opened between the lips of the older man.
"The baby is pretending to sleep?" FeiLong asked, in a teasing tone, tilting his head to watch him better.
"No. .. I was... ehm...But, what time is it?" The boy asked, slightly blushing.
"6.30 am..." the Chinese man whispered, brushing aside a wisp from the boy's forehead.
"I'm sorry Liu-sama... I fell asleep in your bed last night ..." Hikaru continued, rising to sit.
"I don't dislike when you're in my bed..." replied the other, with a mischievous smile.
In that dark dawn, a pale and tired sun had difficulty escaping the blanket of haze that floated on the ocean.
As the lips of the older man met his own, and his arms held him, Hikaru thought that this is how life diddles you. It is in ambush, waiting... and then it takes you by surprise when you have lowered your guard for a moment. While your soul is distracted, overwhelmed by its concerns, life sows in you the image of two obsidian eyes, the scent of exotic spices, the sound of a velvet voice and the caress of silky hair. Sights, sounds and scents that you will not eradicate from your soul. No more.

And this is happiness, or worse, it is desire, or worse, it is love.

The ring of a telephone distracted the boy's attention from his thoughts.
With a rush of disappointment FeiLong moved away from Hikaru and took the receiver.

"Liu Laoban, I am very sorry to disturb you, but there is someone here who asks for you..."
"Who dares to bother me at this time, and without invitation?"

"Asami Ryuichi, Laoban."

....

"Far be it from me to give you the idea that your visit would not be welcome, Asami..." - FeiLong said, with a slightly ironic tone, as he entered the beautiful living room where his henchman had taken Asami - "... but I wonder what leads you here, at this hour in the morning, and without notice," he added, stopping a few steps from him, and greeting Yoh with a wave of his hand.

Yoh returned the greeting with a bow and then left the room, so that the two men could talk face to face.
"I simply need an answer as soon as possible. Mishaps have arisen, some of which require my full attention ..." he said, fishing the packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one of them.
"What if I have not decided yet? In this case your trip so far was an unnecessary way to divert even more of your attention from these so very urgent mishaps of yours... " the Chinese man retorted, heading towards the full-length window, with a hint of annoyance at the idea that the agreement with Baishe for Asami was just something that diverted him from mishaps which were requiring his full attention.
"My life, and the one of someone I care for, are in danger, and that requires my attention..." Asami said, strangely without sarcasm, while he almost crushed the entire cigarette in the jade ashtray on the low table.

FeiLong was surprised. Asami had given him, by his own will, sensitive information about himself. Actually, the collaboration between their organizations would become so close in the future that some significant 'news' like this would circulate from now onwards.
FeiLong glared at the sun that was fighting the haze, and succumbing to it regardless.

This was a sad dawn.

"Asami Ryuichi is worried about someone else's life? Interesting..."
The older man approached the window too, and remained standing next to the Chinese man a few moments before speaking again.
"I don't want him to die. It's strange that you have difficulty understanding something simple like that..." he said.
The Chinese man didn't turn his head towards Asami. He continued to watch the sky.

It seemed that Asami would remember every single word that he had said to him in the past and drew it out in other contexts only to irritate him.

Anyway, he wonders who that someone is.

Considering the way Asami had referred to him, Akihito was excluded.

In another time, in another life, the Chinese man would probably have done everything that was possible to know who he was. FeiLong knew that to begin to live free from the past meant erasing Asami from the picture, and he wanted to ignore what the older man had just said.
The tone of Asami's voice, however, when he replied, was different from usual... it was concerned....
FeiLong only remembered hearing Asami use that tone the once....
The time his consciousness was rushing in the dark.
The time when he was sure that from the darkness he would no longer be released.
The time the smell of blood, his own, filled the room.
He instinctively brought his hand to his chest, feeling the familiar roughness of his scar, beneath the silk of his cheongsam.
The time Asami had said, "Don't die". He really had said that.
The Chinese man immediately chased those memories from his head and his heart and repeated the decision he had taken: no personal involvement, no relationship with nothing and nobody who was linked to Asami. Never again.
"You are lucky, I can give you an answer right now..." continued FeiLong, with a neutral tone of voice, walking away from the Yakuza to sit on the sofa's armrest.
"Well..." Asami said, turning and leaning onto the doorpost of the window overlooking the beach, while he looked for another cigarette.
"I have thoroughly analyzed your proposals. I have looked in every folder to find any possible blemish could be, and I am surprised at not finding any..."
Asami gifted FeiLong with his usual grin "There isn't..." he said simply, lighting a cigarette.
"It would be the first time that you don't try to trick me...." the other retorted, giving him a significant look, while with one hand he brushed a long wisp of his hair behind his back, and then moved his head with grace to make them go to their place.
"Points of view..." said the Yakuza, his gaze roaming his interlocutor's body, with a smug smile that proved that the sight was welcome.
FeiLong ignored it ostentatiously. "The agreement can be done...." - He said - "the terms meet my interests and they show future gains beyond what was probably feasible. If you are of the same opinion, from this moment, I consider you my associate..."
"Well, your word is the only thing I need. About the details, we could reach an agreement calmly: when a business is profitable for both sides, it is very simple..." Asami said, moving away from the windows and going to sit down on one of the armchairs covered by soft alcantara, facing back to the door.

FeiLong smiled. With that simple gesture, Asami had shown with more than a hundred words that he trusted the other. None of those who lived in their world would ever place their back to a door, if not in an environment that it is considered safe.
"I agree. Only, for the details, you'll have to discuss them with Wang... I regret that he is not here. I would have introduced him to you, at your convenience... but you were not expected... " he said, stressing the last words.
Asami narrowed his eyes, but did not say anything ... he knew that FeiLong would soon explain this news, with great detail.
"Asami, you and I know that the idea of this collaboration was suggested by you for the obvious gain that you'll obtain..."
"... and that you'll obtain, too..." the Yakuza clarified, overlapping his long legs and making himself more comfortable in the armchair.
"... and that the Baishe will obtain, too, of course. Whether it is me who will deal directly with you or one of my most trusted men, for your interests, nothing will change... I am informing you about this only to be fair. I am not required to do so and there is no reason that this situation will create problems or doubts for you..." the Chinese man explained.
"Yes, indeed there are no problems for me. I was just a little surprised."
"Besides, your interest is the Baishe, beyond my presence. As usual..." FeiLong added, repenting immediately of what he had just said. It could seem recriminating, and perhaps it was. But now these things no longer had any importance to him. The only effect that could carry was a sarcastic reply from Asami, that FeiLong would gladly receive.
But the joke did not come, surprisingly.
"So this is a farewell...." Asami said, and FeiLong seemed to perceive a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"I would say rather a long goodbye...." FeiLong corrected the older man, although he knew very well that, if it was not a definite farewell to Asami as a person, it was certainly an attempt at a definite farewell to what Asami had represented to him so far.
Asami nodded and rose from the armchair, and so did FeiLong.
Anything else to say about their common interests would be said by Yoh and Wang.
They would meet again, certainly, because there were many "official" occasions at which the two men had the duty to be seen together, to prove to the world that their agreement was solid and how much power they had in their hands.
One-on-one, they looked at each other: today, both were gaining a lot, both were losing something. They knew what they were gaining but didn't know exactly what they were losing: at this point, neither would go out of his way to wonder what.
The meeting was finished.
FeiLong moved towards the door, followed by Asami, who seemed to remember something and suddenly stopped.
"Come to think of it, the next opportunity that requires us to meet, FeiLong, will not be so far away." Asami fished, from his pocket, an envelope made of refined silk paper and gave it to the Chinese man.

FeiLong looked at him with suspicion in his eyes.

"You can't get out of attending a reception so important for me, your brand new partner... sorry, associate, or none of our "colleagues" will believe in the solidity of our agreement." The Yakuza said, with his trademark grin.

***

Hands gently caressed the sheets of black silk. Akihito opened his eyes...

Obviously the bed, beside him, was empty.

Obviously sleeping with Asami almost always warranted waking up alone.

Obviously the photographer hoped that this was only a statement of fact about his present and not a metaphor for his future life...
He sat on the bed, looking around the room for his clothes, but he did not find them.
Akihito sighed... he had no idea what Asami, or who in place of him, had done with his clothes, but he sincerely had no desire to go out of his way to find out.
He got up, and the contact of the warm surface of the parquet floor under his feet gave him a sense of well-being.
Naked and with bare feet, the photographer directed himself into the privacy of Asami's bathroom. The room was enormous and he was slightly taken aback at the size, intimidated somewhat by the large space, but then it really shouldn't come as a surprise given its relation to the bedroom.
Putting his feet on the blue granite that cobbled the room made a shiver run along Akihito's back. The photographer sat on the edge of the whirlpool bath and put his feet on the soft, warm carpet beside it.

The room was absolutely in western style: despite the splendid and sophisticated furniture, it was not a place to relax, like traditional Japanese baths, it was a functional place, as everything else that surrounded Asami was required to be.
Akihito realised that he had met Asami in his home only a very few times... often, the Yakuza had literally dragged him into a hotel room. Deluxe, no doubt about that, but still far from his "private" world.
Akihito smiled, stretching a little.
Maybe taking him here and then leaving him in his house while he was not here, could really mean something to the older man.
Sleeping together, waking up in his house... Akihito blushed slightly.
He took one of Asami's bathrobes and headed out of the bathroom. It was nice to be wrapped in that soft sponge that was scented with the foam bath of the man he loved.

The photographer stopped for a moment to reflect on what had just crossed his mind, and he felt terribly ashamed that he could have this kind of thought, that even a teenager at her first crush would consider too sappy to think! He called himself stupid, and came out of the bedroom.
His empty stomach claimed Akihito's attention and so he noticed that he was very hungry. Very much.
Someone had already served breakfast in the large dining room. Frankly, Akihito would have preferred to sit on a stool in the kitchen and eat toast with a glass of milk or a cup of coffee along with Asami then stay here alone in this big empty room, where everything seemed so sterile and impersonal. It made him feel uncomfortable.
The large choice of desserts, fruit juices and jams put him in a very good mood again, and Akihito granted himself the richest breakfast that he ever recalled.
After overindulging with food, the photographer began to walk from one room to another: the house was over the top, too luxurious, too big and too cold.

As he walked into the penthouse, he became more and more irritated in his realization that in this huge house he had till now, only seen Asami's bedroom.
"Damn sex fiend!" he cursed.
Akihito sat in the video room and turned on the huge television, looking for a music channel.

He set the volume low and stretched out on the sofa.

"It would not be difficult to get used to a life like this," he thought.
Sleep was beginning to lie heavy again on his eyelids: the few hours of sleep he had had last night were not enough. The previous day had been horrible, and Akihito was trying with all his strength to not think about Hikaru, about the fact that he was Asami's lover for years, about his adoption, about his ring and about when he would come back...
The telephone rang.
Once. Two. Then the answering service played.
"I'm obviously not here. Talk after the beep." the peremptory voice of Asami sounded in the empty house. "What a laconic message! Just Asami's style." Akihito thought with a smile.
After the "beep", he heard the voice of a woman. The photographer seemed to recognize the voice of a lady he had often met at Sion.
"Good morning, Asami-sama. Matsunaga Rumi here. Sorry, I thought you were at home. Updates about the receiving: the printer has called to know exactly how many other invitations they have to print. I will hold them off for now. If we cannot trace Hikaru-san, maybe we should postpone the party for his official presentation and reprint the invitations. In addition, you have not confirmed what kind of flowers you prefer as decoration for the banquet hall. Let me know, please. If you want them to come directly from Holland, I must inform the trader in advance. I will be in the office at Sion until noon, and then I'll go and inspect the work at Shinjuku. Have a good day, Sir."
"A wedding receiving, Asami, right?" Akihito whispered, while his eyes were blurred by tears.
Could he endure this reality? Really?

***

In the end, the sun had not completely surrendered but had compromised to survive, the haze condensing into low and transparent clouds. The sun is shining and it is raining, too. FeiLong looked at the sea, laid out, with his back to the doorpost of the terrace of his bedroom, smoking his long ivory pipe.
This would have been a sight to watch along with Hikaru.
The strange and beautiful boy would probably have elaborated on his own appreciation of the sight he was witnessing, in some belief that the light of sunset was wonderful. Only to go on and state that the beauty of sunshine entwined with rain is an even more beautiful occurrence. Then perhaps he would speak of the feelings such a scene can create within people.

An emotion. One of the things for which it was worthwhile to be alive.

You must be really stupid, or mad, to have such strange thoughts...
You must be really stupid or crazy to miss, terribly, someone who has these kinds of thoughts.

The Chinese man turned his gaze, for a moment, inside the room. The housekeeper was finishing preparing his luggage, although within a few days he will be forced to return for the receiving. The bed was still unmade. Gritting his teeth he turned his eyes away from it and returned to look outside.

When Asami left, FeiLong opened the envelope that the Yakuza gave to him.
And he understood.

He understood that Hikaru was bonded more to Asami, in this world, than he could ever be to him. He was his son, his heir and, thinking back to what the boy said to him in the past few days, Hikaru was also his lover.
When FeiLong and Hikaru met, in that same room, shortly after Asami's leaving, there was no need to say anything.
The boy had seen Asami from the terrace.

Hikaru had looked at him. The tears that blurred his eyes, while he tried to fight them back, increased the golden flakes in his pupils.
He looked at the wonderful man in front of him and understood that Asami had not come here for him, but for FeiLong...
Hikaru had approached him, had unbuttoned, with his long and tapering fingers, the first frog of the other's cheongsam and had caressed the scar on his chest.
"Ryuichi is involved with this, right?"
FeiLong nodded.
The boy suddenly felt cold.

Asami was the person who had forced FeiLong to build a wall of loneliness around himself for years. He did not know what he had done, but he knew very well what he was able to do: use you, hurt you, tear up your soul and then leave you to collect shards that were as sharp as blades. And despite this, you cannot continue to do anything but reply to his call.

FeiLong surely wanted to disconnect himself from Asami... whilst, trying to put together the pieces of the mess that was his life, he needed to return back to Asami.

Opposite needs.

Hikaru bowed his head: this was a goodbye.

The last tribute that FeiLong had to pay for his freedom from the past, and another of the many tributes that Hikaru would still have to pay due to his captivity.
The Chinese man took, in his hands, the delicate face of the boy who was looking with an unbearable sadness in his eyes, and kissed him... again and again.
How could you desire someone so much, only to voluntarily allow that person to move away from you?
And then all became hands, and skin, and sadness, and taste, and sex, and sadness, and smell, and lips, and pleasure ... and sadness: a man who has seen and experienced too many things, and a boy who has seen almost nothing, one inside the other, an hungry lovemaking, in that strange spring day in which the sun could not defeat the rain.
Words are useless; both knew that they had already lived what the Fate had written for them.
Their ways were splitting.


FeiLong shook his head to remove from his mind the images of their last night together, and long hair moved as black silk ribbons were caught by the wind.
Those images remained in his eyes, as pics that marked moments of happiness. Because this is how life diddles you, sowing inside you an image when you are too distracted, or too happy. You'll discover it later, when it is too late and you're already a thousand miles away from that moment.

***

"Selling boys and heroin are the activities that best suit my nature.

I was born to make people cry.

Revenge, anger, envy are not for me.

Hate, cold and pure hate, is the feeling that marks me.

In my flight to Tokyo, after five years of exile, I feel a bit of exaltation.

Asami Ryuichi, before I kill you, I'll take away everyone you care for. Again."

***to be continued***