A/N: Hey, everyone! I know this fic isn't as popular as Heartbreak Cure, but as a prequel it is important to me and kind of serves as a foundation for HC's storyline. Thus I've been working on this one whenever I have the energy, because there's a certain arc I want to finish before I get back to to business. I'm actually very close to finishing it (the arc, not the fic!), so if my health keeps improving as it did yesterday and things don't get too busy, I should be getting back to writing HC soon.

In the meantime, I had fun writing SEVEN new chapters this month (shoutout to the Jaime x Brienne tag on Tumblr for introducing me to "Finish It February," seriously BLESS YOU ALL). Here's to more WIP success onward! Maybe I'll even finish a certain other AB piece, one I'll just introduce as "Overnight in an Abandoned Mall." Y'know, as a while-you-wait thing.

Enjoy!

[Chapter 14]: Beseech

Monday morning breakfast was silent, save for a derisive comment from Kimito when his wife joined the table with her tea. ("You see that, Ayato? Your mother already has a mug.")

Ayato acknowledged him monotonously but didn't look up. He didn't want to look at either of them very much today.

The only thing that even slightly appeased him was that Kimito thought the gift had been meant for his mother. He still didn't know about Yuri. After all, who else could it be for? Who'd want to be friends with his pathetic liar son? Who would even bother?

In a twisted way, it was lucky Kimito thought like that. But now it didn't really matter who he'd actually made the mug for. There was no mug to speak of. It was in the garbage, just where Kimito said it belonged.

What a waste.

After breakfast, Ayato and Kimito convened at the store. The latter painted in the back while Ayato stocked shelves until they were ready to open up. As usual, Kimito barked orders at him and coolly asked him questions about things like inventory as if last night had never even happened. Ayato supposed, sarcastically, that it meant he'd just done such a fine job tending to his split lip that Kimito figured he'd imagined the whole thing.

Not that he could've left it as it was. Kimito wouldn't let him open up shop with a busted lip or a shiner unless he was confident he could wave off any questions from nosy customers with "he got into a scuffle at school" and a quip about teenaged boys. Those excuses didn't fly during summer break. Not everyone minded their own business, so Ayato usually had to make the evidence go away or Kimito would promise to make it worse later.

Most of the time, Kimito was wise enough to make his mark on places that could be covered up – legs, arms, back, stomach – but there were times like Sunday night where Ayato made him so furious that he acted impulsively. He always blamed him for it afterwards. Then it would get covered up and he'd go on to pretend that bygones were bygones.

Customers came in and out, Ayato greeting and dismissing them as he should, them not noticing anything or anyone but the merchandise. Young couples came in looking tanned or sunburnt and ready to buy teapots, cookware, and flowerpots for their new place. Who went to buy pottery right after going to the beach? That's what he kept wondering.

One man, a few years older than him, tapped a woman on the shoulder and surprised her with a pretty lapis lazuli colored mug. She immediately went starry-eyed.

"That's perfect!" Beaming, she kissed him on the temple. "This is exactly what I want."

Ayato frowned and glanced away, returning his focus to scrubbing the counter. Public displays of affection were so strange.

He elected to pay attention to the little kids with colorful mouths who were coming in while spending time with their grandparents. They'd clearly indulged in some kakigōri, and had a proclivity towards touching shelves, counters, and shiny ceramics with their sticky fingers.

Ayato spent a lot of the work day cleaning and ringing up purchases. Just when he was thinking the less time he spent with Kimito the better, the man demanded that he come to the back room and wedge the clay. Of course.

On the bright side, Kimito let him do his work instead of pushing him out of the way to correct him. Maybe he was too busy to care, meticulously painting intricate designs on some vases.

"What day is it?" Kimito asked out of nowhere, breaking the stony silence between them.

"July 26th," Ayato said, not missing a beat.

Kimito grunted. "We're not as off schedule as I thought."

Ayato didn't care about a stupid schedule. Of course they weren't off schedule. He was off from school, and they were bursting with productivity thanks to him. That paint and clay shouldn't have made a goddamn difference.

"Go home," Kimito said shortly. He side-eyed him for a millisecond, and his lip curled. "I'll close up tonight."

Ignoring what was left unsaid, Ayato checked out the window. It was pitch black with another bright, round moon. Who knows, maybe a werewolf would put him out of his misery. He pulled off his work apron, hung it up on a hook, and left without a word. If Kimito wanted to close up and make sure to search every inch of the shop for hidden treasures or stolen paint, Ayato had no problem with that. The longer the man stayed there, the better.

He walked the ten minutes home alone – for the most part. A creature howled once in the distance and briefly got his hopes up. He only stopped in his tracks when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. A rustle in the grass and thicket.

Alright, he was bluffing. He admired wolves, certainly, but if they still existed in these parts he didn't want to get mauled by one. Taking a breath, he turned his body slowly and carefully to the left to see what he was dealing with.

A doe. It was a doe, standing close enough to him that he could have tossed her a snack. She peered at him with glowing yellow eyes, stock still and alert. Though wary, her gaze turned almost gentle, like she wanted to tell him something.

Hayato had met a deer once. Or so he said, in the midst of a game of hide-and-seek when he had failed to find a hiding place in time and Ayato had cried triumphantly that he had found him. His brother had said he did find a place, but then the deer approached him because he was alone and being quiet. He swore that the animal had come really close to him, and he'd let it smell his hand. It had only run away after it heard Ayato coming.

Ayato had chosen not to believe it, because he was already fuming at the idea that a deer had wanted to meet Hayato and not him. That was bad enough. It would be worse to think that an animal had run away from him. He had been so jealous, he didn't want to believe it existed.

Now, he understood the sparkle he'd seen in his brother's eyes. The way he'd found him standing there in the forest, his mouth wide open like he'd seen God.

The doe lowered her head slightly, as if nodding at him. Her ears lost their pricked forward stance. She continued to stare at him, and he stared back. Pins-and-needles static fuzzed inside his head. He felt like he was frozen in time, savoring the moment. Or channeling another life.

He shook his head sharply, clearing the haze. No, there was no other life but this one he was living right now. The one where Kimito would be storming his way down the path any minute.

It was better that he walk away first. Even if she didn't run from him like the one in his childhood, she would just be scared off by Kimito eventually. He wasn't foolish enough to hold on to moments like these when he knew Kimito would end up destroying them.

Ayato nodded at the doe reverently, turned, and kept walking towards the estate. The forest stayed eerily quiet behind him.

Tuesday started out a little different from yesterday. He had another dream about that school again, but he couldn't remember a lot of it because Kimito was dragging him out of bed in no time. He needed to stop having these weird school dreams; they kept making him sleep in because they were too interesting.

Mostly what he remembered was that one guy who reminded him of Hejjiguchi rounding up a ragtag baseball team and challenging him and the student body president to a game. This may have been the same guy who told him in a previous dream that the president was an angel. In that dream, it had sounded plausible and really freaked him out. Now he believed it a little, but it was not quite as compelling as sitting in the bleachers and watching this guy and some girl tie each other into pretzel knots on the baseball field.

He thought he might have even heard another peal of villainous laughter in the distance near the fence, except it sounded like it was coming from a walkie talkie.

"-you sound like a villain," said some girl on the other end.

The dream had abruptly ended there, and later while he opened up shop he found himself wondering which team won. He wouldn't be surprised if the idiots' team came close but sabotaged themselves with another one of those ridiculous wrestling matches. If this were a story, that'd be the ending he would've written.

The only frustrating thing about these dreams was that as soon as his mind started trying to tell him the faces looked familiar, they faded and fuzzed in his memory. The voices became garbled. It was like grasping too late for a pencil that rolled off his desk, far beyond even his foot's reach.

He didn't mind forgetting about this one, though. It being about a baseball game, he was sure it was just his subconscious reminding himself how much he missed Yuri. Maybe the two idiots wrestling symbolized something, like playfulness, or being restrained by Kimito, and the emotionless angel president was one of his parents—

"Ayato!"

Blinking, he instinctively straightened his shoulders and followed the voice by turning to the right. Kimito frowned at him from the entrance to the back hallway.

"Daydream on your own time," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Sorry, sir." Ayato scrutinized the shop. It was a little after noon, and the morning flow had ebbed. "It's just gotten quiet in here."

"A slow day is no excuse for a slow mind," said Kimito, beckoning him with a hand. "If you're so bored, come back here and be helpful to me."

Repressing a sigh, he followed him to the back and got a broom shoved into his grip. Ayato clenched his jaw as he swept up clay scraps while Kimito sculpted handles for mugs. So that was why he wanted him back here. His father was so petty.

It wouldn't do him any good to linger over it. Kimito was right, no matter who he meant. She didn't need his stupid gift. Her parents could get her something so much better, like a car that she wouldn't even be able to drive for another year, or an adorable kitten that could give her the company she couldn't get from him outside of school.

By all accounts, he really shouldn't have bothered. What could he possibly offer Yuri that her parents couldn't buy a whole store's worth?

After all…

"Are your daydreams clogging your eardrums?" Kimito snapped.

The broom stilled in Ayato's grip. His autopilot had kicked in and now he wasn't so much sweeping scraps as he was… displacing them.

"What," he said carefully.

Kimito's features hardened, but he didn't look like he was about to raise his voice. His jaw set, he returned his attention to the little mug handles he rolled like worms. And then, as if speaking to a child: "The bell, Ayato. The front door?"

Sure enough, when Ayato listened closely, he could hear at least one customer out in the front. Some footsteps and then a cleared throat.

"Go out there and deal with them," Kimito said, waving him away. "You're obviously useless to me in here."

Ayato did as he was told, setting aside the broom and leaning it against the doorway before making his escape into the hall. It was a relief that Kimito found as little joy in his company as he did with him. Compared to Kimito, he would rather see anyone else.

He stepped out into the front room, emerging behind the counter, and opened his mouth to greet the customer.

"Welcome to the store—"

The words strangled him when his eyes saw clearly.

Standing in the middle of the room, grinning triumphantly like she'd just won an unspoken bet, was none other than Yuri Nakamura. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot as if he'd kept her waiting. But just as suddenly as she'd appeared, so did the expression on her face transform into innocent cordiality.

"Hi – you remember me, right? We're in the same year at Akuma High." She arched her neck to look over his shoulder. "Is your father here?"

Her acting skills were uncanny. Ayato blinked twice, then nodded, playing along.

"Just a moment…" He had no idea what the hell was up her sleeve, but he returned to the hallway anyway and called for his dad. "It's the Nakamuras' daughter!"

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sound of water running in the sink. Kimito emerged fifteen seconds later with moderate haste, wiping clay residue from his hands with a cloth. His expression remained stoic when he saw Yuri standing in front of the counter, but at his side, Ayato quietly imagined the man's pupils sharpening into yen signs.

"Is there something I can help you with, Nakamura?" he asked, in a gruff yet still abnormally cordial tone. For a moment, he seemed to be looking straight past her, and when Ayato followed his gaze, he could see why. Outside the door, a familiar couple was waiting on the sidewalk chatting to each other. Then Mrs. Nakamura held up a finger and took a call, while Mr. Nakamura looked mildly interested in window-shopping.

Catching onto their unspoken question, Yuri got straight to the point.

"Yes, actually." She gestured lazily over her shoulder. "But my parents won't be coming in, because we agreed that if they come in and look around, it'll be sundown before I'm able to drag them out."

Kimito stared stonily back at her. As long as their visit ended in him counting stacks of their money on his desk, that wouldn't be much of a problem to him.

Undeterred, she pressed on. "As much as they love your work, Mr. Naoi, they promised we'd spend the day at the beach for my birthday. That's the real reason I'm here." She flashed the man an astonishingly chipper smile. "They said I could invite my friends and classmates along, and I figured, who better to ask than the potter's son?"

At first Ayato struggled not to react, but then masked his wide eyes as baffled humility. Going after Kimito's desire for influence and high regard, especially among her rich parents? Impressive.

"So," Yuri leaned over the counter just a bit, almost conspiratorially, "can I borrow him for a while, or is he something I'll have to buy off your hands?"

Ayato dared a look in his father's direction. Every bone in Kimito's face tightened, and he was breathing like a bull with his mouth pursed in such a thin line. Occasionally his eyes darted to the window, where Yuri's parents were still waiting. He was keenly aware that he had an audience. Even Mrs. Nakamura glanced inside while the phone was pressed to her ear.

They didn't expect their daughter to take so long. After all, their beloved Yuri was asking for something for her birthday. Even if his son was working today, would the esteemed potter really deny something to his most loyal patrons? It was all Ayato could do to keep himself from smirking gleefully.

Kimito was trapped. Yuri had him completely trapped.

What would he do now?

Briefly, Kimito side-eyed Ayato, who inwardly scrambled to look solemn and obedient. Of course he would never dishonor the family business by ditching. But if it would make their best customers happy…

"I'll allow it," said Kimito. As clearly as the odds were stacked in their favor, it didn't stop Ayato from nearly choking on his own tongue. It actually worked? Then, as if sensing his son's lack of composure, Kimito rounded on him with a firm staredown. "If you can make up for lost productivity afterwards. But you better behave yourself today, Ayato."

Ayato nodded very seriously, biting down on his lip hard so as not to let loose the dangerous words that had come to mind: If there's one thing you've taught me better than pottery, it's to keep my hands to myself.

"Yes, sir," he said instead.

He hung up his work apron on the hook and walked straight out the door beside Yuri without looking back. There were two or three more angry bull-snorts, and then Kimito's footsteps disappeared into the backroom.

Seconds after he and Yuri emerged from the store, as soon as the walls blocked them from Kimito's view, Ayato pulled Yuri into his arms. She tried not to laugh too triumphantly, and muffled most of it in his collarbone. Her gleeful hum vibrated pleasantly against his skin while his "happy birthday" got lost in her hair.

When they broke apart, he kept his hands on her shoulders as he got a good look at her. Had her eyes always been this green? He'd forgotten.

"Didn't think I could pull that one off, did you?" Yuri jabbed, looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Remember what I told you about 'the girl who cried wolf,'" Ayato said. Yet he was having a hard time wiping the grin from his face after holding it in for so long. "But still, I had no idea it would be that simple."

"Simple!" Yuri feigned indignation, placing both hands on her hips. "I'll have you know that was a well-thought-out operation."

Ayato laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Hey now," came a deep voice from behind them. "It's bad manners to flirt with a girl in front of her father without at least shaking his hand first!"

They both spun around, red-faced. "Dad!" Yuri complained, aghast.

"Kaishou, don't embarrass them like that on her birthday," Mrs. Nakamura scolded him, clicking her phone shut and dropping it in her purse. Then she adjusted the straps of her bag to free her long hair (usually partially in a bun, probably worn down for the beach day) and reached out to take Ayato's hand. "It's nice to see you outside of work, Naoi."

"Thank you for having me." Ayato cleared his throat, trying not to show that he was sweating already. She had a point; they'd never really spoken outside of a business context. What if he poorly represented his father's company? He was in a situation where he could accidentally insult the Nakamuras, tarnish Kimito's business, and ruin Yuri's birthday in one fell swoop!

No, he couldn't think about that. It was kind of embarrassing. He was Kimito Naoi's son – what was he doing, being terrified of Yuri's parents?

"Our Yuri wouldn't have it any other way," said Mr. Nakamura as they shook.

Mrs. Nakamura nodded her agreement, beaming. "I'm not surprised she was so eager to invite you. We've heard nothing but good things about you since April. Every time we get back from a trip or give her a call and ask for an update, you're the first thing she—"

"Ahem!" Yuri gave her a wide-eyed, extremely distressed look.

"Am I talking too fast?" Mrs. Nakamura said innocently. Yuri's expression didn't waver; she tapped a sandaled foot and whined slightly, which made her mother laugh. "Alright, alright. Let's get going, then!"

They stopped by Ayato's house, where he made record time in finding the trunks he hadn't even worn since his last mandatory swimming class. For once he was glad he ever took that class, or else the only other option he'd have would be the pair he wore when he went swimming with Hayato. He couldn't even remember the last time Kimito let them go to a pool. He changed, threw on a different shirt, and made his way downstairs… only to find the Nakamuras talking in the foyer with his mother.

She perked up when she spotted him. "So! You and Yuri are going to the beach today, right?"

Part of him wanted to say something snide. It was taking a lot of willpower, but disrespecting her in front of Yuri's parents wouldn't be ideal for anyone involved. He held his tongue and nodded. "Yeah. Father already told Yuri it was okay." Once Mr. and Mrs. Nakamura stepped outside first, he couldn't get out the door fast enough. "I'll see you when I get back."

"Ayato."

He slowed on the porch, and begrudgingly turned around.

At first she blinked, as if she hadn't expected him to listen. Then she smiled hesitantly and bowed her head. "Have a good time."

"Thanks."

The door shut behind him. He headed down the trail and caught up with the Nakamuras at their car, where Yuri was already waiting for him in the back seat with a snack in hand.

"Your mom is so nice," Yuri said, nibbling at something powdery white with a yellow center. "I told her it was my birthday, and she said 'I heard!' and gave me this lemon bar. Was that your idea? I told you that you didn't have to get me anything."

"No, that was all her." Ayato tried not to sound glum. A lemon bar was just a morsel. Did his mother really think that could ever compare with… or even make up for… ugh, he couldn't afford to think about it. "Besides, her present was that box lunch of your favorites. Remember? On the last day of school?"

Yuri hummed her approval, leaning back against the seat. "Your mom is a great cook."

"Getting a little jealous up here," Mrs. Nakamura said, while Mr. Nakamura put the car into gear and started driving away.

"Sorry, Mom. I'll save you a bite."

Mr. Nakamura snickered so hard into his fist that his wife had to glare at him to stop. All the same, he played innocent. "She's allowed to sass you, Ehana. It's her birthday!"

"Both hands on the wheel," Mrs. Nakamura said coolly.

The ride went pretty smoothly despite that. Yuri's parents didn't seem to mind each other's teasing or sarcastic comments, but that was the distinct difference between them and his parents – the comments were lighthearted. Flirty, even. Laced with chemistry and genuine affection. A couple of times, Ayato glanced over at Yuri with a raised eyebrow when her mother teased her father about his driving, and her father just laughed. Did that really just happen peacefully? A kid could grow up well-adjusted exposed to stuff like this.

Their banter went on uninterrupted for quite a while. In fact, twenty minutes passed before Ayato realized something. They hadn't made any other stops. Not since they dropped by his place.

"Aren't we picking up anyone else?" he asked, turning to Yuri with a furrowed brow. "I thought your parents said you could invite a bunch of your friends and classmates along."

Yuri waved it off dismissively. "Yeah, but I only told your dad that to make it sound like some big bash." She opened one eye, glancing out the window as she spotted a road sign for the beach just ahead. Then she turned back to him. "This is just you and me, okay? Since we don't get a lot of chances to spend time together outside of school."

"Hm," he said, and let her change the subject. That made sense, but…

It was her birthday. Why wouldn't it be a big bash? He half-expected to get out of the car and have Hejjiguchi, Ami, Kurimu, maybe half their grade waiting with noisemakers. Not that he wasn't grateful to have her all to himself today.

Though honestly, now that he thought about it, Yuri's social life was a total mystery to him. She could be going to parties every curfew-less school day after walking home with him, or having sleepovers with her other friends all summer and he wouldn't even know.

"Tell Yuri I said…"

Ayato frowned as an image of blue eyes and red-brown hair invaded his thoughts.

Hisakawa. Yuri had never mentioned a Hisakawa.

"Hey!"

Fingers started snapping in front of his face; Yuri quickly brought him back down to Earth. He could see sand and ocean not too far off in the distance, outside Yuri's window.

"Sorry," Ayato said sheepishly. "I zoned out for a second."

"Zoning out like that," Yuri scoffed, feigning offense. "You haven't even seen me in my bikini yet."

Ayato laughed, but in the rearview mirror, Mr. Nakamura looked very depressed. "Daughters shouldn't say such things on their seventh birthday."

Yuri's entire face seared crimson. "Seventeenth, Dad!"

"Seventeenth?" he echoed, wrinkling his forehead. Turning slightly, he whispered aside to his wife, "How long were we gone this time?"

Yuri buried a groan in a double face-palm, while Ayato snorted with laughter. Mrs. Nakamura simply shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Naoi. We haven't embarrassed our daughter like this in a long time."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Nakamura. I'm taking notes," Ayato said politely.

"Ughhh…" Yuri covered her face with a towel.

Ayato smirked at her as the car came to a stop in the beach parking lot. This was going to be more fun than he thought.

Preview:

"I've never known a Naoi to be lecherous."

"You can't even wait for one whole minute?"

"What did you trust her with, anyway?"

"That girl kind of reminded me of you."

"It's your fatherly duty!"

"He's a hard sell."

"Maybe we can work something out."

[Chapter 15]: Persuasion.