Never Be the Same

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Chapter 20

Amu was beginning to feel the guilt sink into her system as she stared intently at Ikuto's eyes.

His face was only inches from hers, and their foreheads were pressed together gently. Amu had kissed him once more, then dared to open her eyes – biggest mistake she'd ever made.

His midnight blue eyes were filled with the most sadness and sorrow she'd ever seen him display. They were glazed over with the distant look that he got when he was remembering something painful; she'd seen it all too many times. The flames of the fireplace reflected and flickered in his eyes – like a midnight ocean on fire – licking at her conscience and burning inside her, punishing her for pressuring him to tell her everything.

She felt nervous butterflies in her chest just at the thought.

Ikuto had never told her hardly anything about his past. His childhood was one big blur – even he claimed not to remember most of it. The only things she knew were that his father had disappeared when he was young, and his mother had died when he was a teenager. His little sister was a famous, well-to-do singer who could take care of herself.

But she knew that there was so much more than that.

There was detail in between the cracks and crevices of his simple background. And if her assumptions were correct – if she could read his eyes as well as she thought she could – she was about to hear about them.

Ikuto pulled back, and sat back in his chair. The white t-shirt he had recently donned was in stark, bright contrast to his dark blue features; his porcelain moonlight skin was transformed to a creamy, tan color. Amu looked at their intertwined hands, and watched his thumb idly stroke the back of her hand. His voice was low and even.

"It all started a really long time ago."

Those were the words that he'd chosen to begin the story with. Amu could not have felt more guilty now – he looked and sounded pained. He was drudging up thousands of painful memories, about to unleash them to a simple girl who had no right to know.

She wanted so badly to know what he was hiding… but she couldn't.

"It was in about 1970, I think."

"You don't have to tell me," she suddenly blurted.

Ikuto looked at her with slight surprise. Amu shook her head back and forth, holding his hand in hers. She tried to avoid looking him in the eyes, which seemed to be her downfall every time; but she was positive that the look of guilt on her face gave away everything.

"I-I know you don't want to," she said quietly. "It must be hard to talk about your past. You don't have to tell me… anything."

She felt a gentle touch of fingers beneath her chin, and couldn't say she wasn't expecting it when Ikuto gently tipped her face up to look at him.

But what she didn't expect was for him to suddenly pull her forward into a kiss.

It was gentle and soft, but not hesitant or reluctant – he meant to do it. She found herself wide-eyed for a partial moment –then, winding her arms around his neck, twirling his hair into her fingers. His hands rested gently against her cheeks; she felt protected and secure.

He released his lips from hers, and cupped her cheek in his hand and grasped her shoulder with the other. She looked into his eyes to see care; deep compassion and genuine gentleness.

"I want to." He kissed her forehead softly. "I do."

He looked her directly in her honey-golden eyes, sparkling with a touch of fire. He couldn't help but smile slightly at the adorable look of concern on her face; she would always bring out the best in him at the worst of times.

"Are you sure?" She asked quietly, placing her hand softly over his hand on her cheek.

Ikuto was not about to turn her down, no matter how killed inside he felt.

"Positive," he whispered, smiling.

He would tell her everything.

"In the 70's, my stepfather met a girl. Her name was Souko Takahashi," he said, clutching both of Amu's hands, turning his gaze to the fire. "Hoshina was practically insane for the girl, but she was in love with Aruto Tsukiyomi. When Souko and Aruto announced that they were going to elope, Aruto asked Hoshina for some money. Hoshina was angry; but nevertheless, he gave his friend some money, and watched the married couple sail away. Aruto promised that he would pay him back."

Amu digested everything slowly. He was starting way back – to his parent's story? She couldn't help but wonder this story tied into everything in the end, but listened nonetheless.

"Years passed. Aruto's face appeared on every magazine cover, on every channel – he was a famous violinist. He and Souko had a kid. Hoshina saw them on TV every day, and as the years went on, he grew more and more angry. Eventually, he just lost it; that's when he got crazy with money and power. Then one day, Aruto Tsukiyomi… disappeared."

Amu gulped. She clutched his hand tighter. Up until this point Ikuto had spoke in a clear, low, even tone, remaining stoic and expressionless – utterly calm and collected. Now was when the story became hard to tell. Ikuto's expression became angry.

"He didn't disappear," he said in a lower, more caustic tone. "He ran to Hoshina."

Amu's eyes widened. She had not seen that coming. She had no idea…

"Aruto heard that Hoshina had become a business tycoon – naturally, he wanted more money." That was when Ikuto's expression took a sharp turn for the worse. "Hoshina beat the hell out of him and kicked him out."

"Oh my god…" Amu whispered, in shock.

"A couple months later, Hoshina went to see Souko." Ikuto continued relentlessly. "He knew she was having a hard time caring for her son with her insufficient funds, and no husband to bring home money. So, he made her an offer – she would marry him, and she would have all the money in the world."

His eyebrows were taut and creased in sheer anger.

"She accepted," he growled lowly. "For her son. Like Hoshina promised, they had all the money in the world. They had a daughter, too. Everything was going exactly as he planned. The boy took up the violin; the girl took up singing. More money for him. Souko did nothing but sit around all day and cry; he didn't care, as long as she didn't get in his way. Everything was going perfect for him."

"Ikuto…"

Amu stroked his hand gently, slightly fearful of the expression cast upon his face. He stared into the licking, smoldering fire with a look of sheer hatred; the same look she'd seen on his face when Yoru had come to call. Amu was beginning to feel colder as the minutes progressed, despite the heat of the slow dying fire.

Amu realized, staring at his expression, that if Ikuto had held this inside him any longer, his hatred would have distended into his heart and melted, leaving a permanent scar. Amu, too, began to feel the hatred that he felt toward the man that was his stepfather – Kazuomi Hoshina.

Suddenly, his expression of hatred dissolved into no emotion at all. His eyes glazed over. His tone grew flat.

"Then, Souko died."

Amu felt a heavy burden on her heart as he spoke the words. She remembered so distinctly the exact moment that he'd heard the news, and remembered how he'd dealt with it – not a tear spilled from his eyes. He felt nothing but anger; at least, that was the only emotion he'd shown her.

But now, as he turned his head toward her, she could see the true sadness in his eyes. Deep in his dark, dark irises, there was an emotion he refused to show anyone – hurt. Sadness.

His mother's death had affected him after all.

"Hoshina couldn't cared less. After her death, he saw no reason to treat his children civilized anymore. As of that moment, they became his slaves."

Ikuto's body tensed suddenly, and his eyes narrowed, blazing with anger and fire.

"But Aruto came back."

His hand squeezed Amu's tighter than ever.

"Hoshina held a debt over his head. He told him that the reason Souko died was because she grieved day and night about his disappearance. He pretended like he cared about her. Hoshina drilled it into his brain until he couldn't take it anymore. Aruto… he just lost it. He went numb." Ikuto's jaw clenched, his voice quieted. "He couldn't even look his son in the eyes."

Ikuto finally looked at Amu, and faced her directly. His expression softened – his anger dissolved.

"Hoshina put my father in captivity and told me that if I'd do whatever he wished if I wanted my father to live. I was 20. You were 16."

Amu felt a heavy feeling in her chest. Her eyes widened. Could he be…?

"Hoshina was taking his business abroad; he told me I was to go on tour. He told me to leave all distractions and acquaintances behind, or he would remove them forcefully. I was to cut myself off from the life I knew." He clutched both of her hands in his own. "I came to your house and tried to persuade you to come with me. I knew that if you didn't, I'd never be able to speak to you again – Hoshina would track you down and kill you."

Amu's throat constricted. Her stomach clenched into a knot. The weight hit her full-force, dragging down her heart. Ikuto cast his gaze to the ground, clearly distraught.

"If I'd stayed in Japan, my father would die. Everyone I knew would be hunted down and taken until I decided to join Hoshina and receive the company someday. I… I didn't know what to do..."

Suddenly, Ikuto found his shoulders crushed beneath a flying embrace, and rush of strawberry scent wafted through his nose. Amu wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing as tight as she could. She pressed her head against the back of his neck, tears streaming down her cheeks. She let out soft sobs, clutching the fabric of his shirt in her tiny hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, choking on her sobs. "I'm so, so sorry…"

She felt cold and guilty; the fire's warmth no longer warmed her – Ikuto's arms did. Every feeling of hatred she'd ever felt for the violinist for leaving her five years ago came rushing back to her at the speed of light, and the guilt melted upon her heart. Every moment she'd spent blaming him for everything, every time she'd heard his name and was overcome with sorrow; she couldn't stop the tears from falling, and she didn't want to.

He'd been protecting her.

"All along," she whispered, "a-all those years… I-I thought…"

Ikuto gently hushed her crying, holding her and gently kissing her neck. Her stood from his chair, and held her close, gently trailing a hand up and down her back, rubbing it softly. He placed a hand on her head, stroking her hair tenderly.

"I should've told you," he whispered lowly.

"I should've just believed you!" She cried, pulling back and looking into his eyes with guilt and shame. "I should've known th-that you wouldn't… y-you'd never…"

Ikuto placed his hand on the back of her neck, and brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking into her eyes.

"I would never just leave you," he said softly, tenderly.

Amu smiled softly, sniffling. She looked down, embarrassed by her tears. Ikuto lovingly brushed her moist cheeks with his thumb. Boldly, Amu placed her hands on the sides of his face, and leaned up on her tip-toes.

She kissed him.

She kissed him long and hard, pouring out every ounce of passion that had built up for five long, painful years. Ikuto seemed surprised, but quickly complied, and dipped her back. Amu felt like she was floating atop the highest clouds – among the moon and stars, fireworks and meteors and cosmos exploding around her. She put her arms around his neck, and held on for dear life as he dipped her back and pulled her forward; she felt like she was on a roller-coaster ride.

They pulled away and Amu wasted no time in flinging herself into his embrace again.

"Thank you," she whispered breathlessly, smiling ear to ear.

"Anytime," Ikuto laughed, overwhelmed by the passion she'd just exerted.

Amu felt warmth again, hearing Ikuto's laugh. It had been so long since heard his real, genuine laugh, and when she pulled away and looked him in the eyes, she saw true, real happiness in his smile.

She felt like she would overflow with joy.

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, and all the joy disappeared in a blink. Ikuto's joyous expression vanished just as quickly.

"What's wrong?"

Amu looked worried. The uncomfortable weight on her heart came back. She encountered his eyes, and almost hesitated to ask.

"What about your father?"

Ikuto released his hold of her, suddenly looking very grave and angered. Amu cursed herself – but she had to ask. She was worried for him.

"You said that if you ever left Easter, your father would be k-killed."

Guilt settled in her chest once more. Ikuto looked overcome with sadness and trepid anger. Amu couldn't help but think the worst - was he dead?

He looked as if he was about to say something, when suddenly, a door opened and burst of light flooded the dark room.

Dia Misaki stood erect in the dark, ominous office, awaiting an answer; some sort of reply.

"Trust me, sir. You will have Tsukiyomi in the palm of your hand," she said calmly.

Hoshina rubbed his chin contemplatively. The tiny hairs on the back of Dia's neck stood on end – he was trying to make her crack and run away, crying. But she would not let him see the anxiety inside her. Hoshina stood from his chair, and let out a low chuckle.

"It's perfect."

Misaki felt a surge of success rush through her veins.

"Notify the corporation to set the date on every calendar. Prepare a task force capable of a small, discreet operation. Do not send out any search parties until that day."

"Yes, sir."

Hoshina grinned maliciously.

"Congratulations, Misaki. Tell Sanjou to get the hell out of here – we've got a new female supervisor."

Misaki smirked.

"Thank you, sir."

"Now get out," he barked.

Misaki whirled around, and waited for Seiichiro to open the large double doors. She exited the office, and clip-clopped swiftly down the hall with her shoulders back, grinning.

"Thank you, Seiichiro…" she said lowly; menacingly. She turned to him and kissed his lips swiftly. "…for going to high school."

"Well, your clothes are dry, and I've made up a bed for – oh," Nagihiko walked in the room with a pleasant expression that soon transformed into surprise.

Amu and Ikuto stared at him, blinking.

"I-I'm sorry, I've interrupted –"

"It's alright," Amu reassured him, although she was hoping that he'd arrived just a moment later.

At least we hadn't been kissing or anything, she thought with relief. She took a look at Ikuto. He still seemed trapped in the moment that Amu had presented to his thoughts; his father. She wished she could ask him right now, but she knew that it would only bring up painful memories again. She'd heard enough for one night; Ikuto had confessed enough for one night.

"My apologies," Nagi smiled. "If you like, your room is ready, and the bathroom is just attached."

Amu smiled at him, and ushered for Ikuto to come with her. They both walked out the door, into the cold hallway, and Amu missed the warmth of the fireplace, but she also was tired beyond belief. She looked at a clock as they were passing the kitchen; 4:24 a.m. Before they entered the room, Amu turned around and smiled at Nagihiko.

"I'm so sorry for troubling you so late," she said worriedly.

Nagi waved a hand in the air. "It's no trouble at all – I'm always there for you when you need me, remember?"

Amu nodded, and hugged him softly.

"Thank you, Nagi."

"Anytime, love. Now get some sleep; you've had quite a rough night," Nagi said, smiling.

Amu nodded again, and smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Nagihiko."

"Goodnight, Amu," he said softly, and Amu could've sworn she heard a trace of sadness in his voice.

Amu entered the room, closing the door behind her. She turned around, and nearly had a heart attack.

"Oh my g-god," she whispered, luckily subdued.

Amu stared in shock at the well-defined muscles in Ikuto's back. Luckily, he didn't hear her sudden outburst, and she slithered off to the bathroom before he could catch her blush. He's GOT to stop randomly removing his shirt, she thought, trying to snatch herself out of her fluster. She closed the bathroom door halfway, and removed her leggings from under the massive t-shirt that reached half-way down her thighs. The sleeves nearly reached her elbows. Now, she had a makeshift nightgown. She had no idea that Nagihiko wore such large recreational clothing – he didn't seem this big of a size…

She brushed her teeth, and washed her face. She finally pulled the door open, only to find a tall mass of six-pack perfection leaning against the door.

"You take a long time," he said huskily.

Amu diverted her eyes abruptly, trying her hardest to hide her blush. Since when did she blush so furiously when he was shirtless? She'd seen his upper half thousands of times in the past couple weeks, but now…

Now, it just seemed like an entirely different experience.

"What are you staring at?" she snapped, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to appear like she was washing her face... again.

She dried her face with a towel, praying to God that he couldn't see the conspicuous, heated blush that was surely covering her cheeks. Suddenly, she felt a long arm wrap around her waist, and yank her forward to a firm, smooth surface. She looked straight ahead, and all she could see was… chest.

Perfect… abs.

Oh… god.

"Your blush," he finally answered with a smirk.

Amu looked up at him, entirely entranced by his utterly stupendous ability to look ridiculously gorgeous whenever he wanted to. His dark, mysterious blue eyes penetrated directly into hers, and she found her hands wandering up his defined, gorgeous chest. His silky skin tingled beneath her light touch.

She smirked.

She whipped out the towel and tossed it behind his neck, grabbing both ends. She tugged on the towel, pulling him closer to her until she could feel the breath from his mouth on her lips. She pressed her body up against him, and gave him a swift kiss on the lips. She whispered seductively in his ear –

"Your turn."

– and walked out the door.

She smiled to herself. She felt successful as she swatted his butt with the towel and proceeded to not look back. Though, she was dying to see the expression on his face at that very moment in time. She wished she had eyes in the back of her head – but when she left his expression to the imagination, she was fully satisfied. She let out a grin, and tucked herself into bed.

Ikuto splashed water on his heated face. He smirked at himself in the mirror.

That was hot.

Nagihiko walked down the slender hallway to his room.

He stopped as he passed their room, and put an ear to the door – they appeared to be asleep.

Good thing, he thought. It's already five in the morning.

He sighed heavily, and sat down on the couch. He couldn't help but feel a slight bit of jealousy. Even though he'd sworn to leave Amu to Ikuto, he still felt that he was entitled to run away on an adventurous escapade with her.

He nearly felt betrayed.

Nagi rid his head of such thoughts, and laid down on the couch. He simply sat there for a while, not feeling tired in the slightest. He had to sort his jumbled thoughts.

If Amu and Ikuto were running from a very serious corporation, they were in serious risk of being found. And when they were found at his apartment, what would happen to him? He was most likely tangled up in the mess without even doing anything. His hospitality toward the love of his life and her boyfriend could cost him his life.

He sighed. He might as well just forget about it and face what comes. Once again, he forced his feelings for Amu to the back of his mind, and to the bottom of his heart.

But he knew he was going to have a hard time keeping it from her friends – once again, he was stuck with the task of keeping their secret.

Suddenly, it came to him; like a strike of lightning, an idea flashed through his brain.

He pulled out his cell phone, and dialed a number. He waited, and just when he was about to give up and end the call, a soft, irritated voice pierced the ringing.

"What do you want."

"Hello, Rima."

"Do you know what time it is, dimwit?" She huffed into the phone. "I haven't even woken up for work!"

"You were about to," Nagi said sweetly.

"That doesn't –" she huffed again. "What the hell do you want?"

"Can you come over on your lunch break?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Why?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Something important. I need to show you something."

There was a pause of silence.

"Like a surprise?"

Nagihiko smiled. "Yes."

Another pause.

"I'll see you at noon."

"Thank you, Rima."

And the line was dead. Nagihiko smiled.

He really couldn't go to sleep now.

The room was dark and cold.

Drops of sweat poured down the man's face.

He looked at his son with a look of pathetic sorrow. His eyes read complete horror and numbness, and a stream of blood poured down his face; next to his ear. His hands were bound behind him. His prison cell smelled of rotting corpses; mold and leakage dripped from the ceiling.

Ikuto stared at him.

Was this the man that all the fuss was about?

"Son," he coughed. His raspy voice was unnerving. "I did not kill your mother."

Ikuto felt anger rush through his veins.

"I didn't kill her – she'd been ill from the start. I just wanted to be free, son! Do you understand that?"

"You never loved her."

"That's not true, son!" The man coughed again. "Th-that's not…"

He squirmed in his bounds. He coughed uncontrollably.

Ikuto didn't believe him.

"I loved your mother. I just wanted to be free; to start a new life!"

Ikuto clenched his fists.

"I was just like you, son."

Ikuto flew forward, and furiously punched the man in the face. The chair toppled over, including the man bound to it. Ikuto grabbed his collar and yanked him up with one arm. He growled.

"You are nothing like me!"

And as he walked away, he could hear the screams of agony as the torture commenced.

"DAD!"

Ikuto shot up, eyes wide open and bloodshot. He felt like he'd held his eyes open under water – his head split with agony.

Amu's head shot up immediately after the sudden outcry.

"What the –" she looked over at Ikuto, panicked. "Oh god, are you okay?"

Ikuto held his head in his hands, and rocked back and forth. The covers were kicked completely off the bed. He wouldn't answer. Amu leaned over to his side of the bed, and placed a hand on his leg. Worry clouded her mind.

"Ikuto?" She reached up to his face, placing her hand on his cheek. "Ikuto, look at me."

Amu turned his face toward her, and he stopped his rocking back and forth. He looked at her.

Amu could not believe it.

"I-Ikuto, it's okay," she whispered tenderly, running a hand through his hair and stoking his cheek. "It's okay now."

Ikuto wrapped his arms around Amu faster than she could comprehend. She continued to stroke his hair, and kissed the side of his face, still shaken. She felt his hair against her shoulder, and felt his face buried deep in her neck. She could feel his trembling lips, quivering against her shoulder. His coarse hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt. Amu kissed his face again.

"It's okay," she whispered quietly.

She didn't know whether she was trying to comfort Ikuto or herself.

For the first time in her life, she saw… fear in his eyes.

Absolutely nothing but fear.

Ikuto released himself from her, slowly. He laid down in the bed, dragging Amu with him. He wrapped his arms around her lower back, and Amu found her face directly in front of his. His eyes were closed – his heavy, shallow breaths told her that he was already asleep. She stroked his cheek with her fingers, brushing his soft, navy hair from his face. He looked so innocent and helpless when he slept – she felt like she was comforting a little boy, lost in a nightmare.

A nightmare about his dead father.

She placed her hands on his chest, feeling so small and insignificant in his tall embrace. Finally, she laid her head against his smooth, firm chest, wrapping her arms around his back and listening to the lullaby of his steady heartbeat.

She closed her eyes.

"It's okay..." she whispered one last time.

Then, she was asleep.

(A/N) - wow. can somebody say "intense?"

goodness glaciers. this chapter was HARD. and it's probably gonna get even harder from this point on... although i'm not really sure, cuz like i said, i haven't planned this story yet :3 but i do have a plotline. no worries. it's gonna be sicknasty.

so? SOO? are you impressed with my ultra-fast updating? no lie, i wrote this chapter in ONE day. one single, solitary day. it may be 4:00 in the morning, but I DID IT. i realied heavily on coffee and sugar cookies :3

i also relied heavily on a couple musical inspirations. the song "Romance Is... (Acoustic)" by LIGHTS was a huge inspiration to that last scene. also, the song "Glitter In the Air" by P!nk was like a lifesaver for the intensity relief.

SO! i have a question for all you readers. should i change the title of this story? if so, throw your suggestions at me. see, originally, this story was kinda supposed to be a one-shot... a really depressing song-fic. the prologue thingy? yeah. that was supposed to be it. but then i just got this insane idea in my head and went with it :D so give me some title suggestions already!

now, i'm gonna go eat somethin. i'm starving. hmm... sugar cookies... omnomnomnom~