Authoress here.

How long can a story run before it gets old? Hopefully I still have a few chapters left before it gets annoyingly long. I really like this story!

(sings) I need a Hiro, holding out for a Hiro till the end of the night... Sorry.

START CHAPTER

"I love you," Alira had whispered.

"Me too," Hiroshi replied quietly.

They stood there in front of the hospital, enveloped in each other's arms, not seeming to care what was happening in front of them. Before Alira could react, camera flashes began going off all around her, blinding her.

"Shit," Hiroshi muttered, tightening his grip around her and blinking to rid himself of the flashbulb floaters obscuring his vision.

"Paparazzi?" Alira guessed, looking up to meet his eyes.

He nodded, glancing carefully over the cameras to avoid the flashes. His gaze roved for a moment. "They're Americans."

"Really?"

Hiroshi nodded, listening to them jabber and spout questions he could not understand. "They're speaking English, and they're blonde with blue eyes."

"How long have you two been dating?" one of them shouted.

"Is it true that Alira is the newest member of Bad Luck?" cried another.

"Alira, are you still wanted by the police?"

"Shit," Alira muttered, frowning at the ground.

"You can understand them?"

She nodded. "I'm half American. I made it my business to learn the language."

"That's the least of our worries. They're blocking the way to my motorcycle."

Alira let her eyes drift over the crowd until she saw something distinctly familiar. "Oh shit," she whispered.

Hikaru Aki was heading towards her through the crowd, his face set, one of his hands on handle of his gun. He knew she would run unless he did something drastic.

Hiroshi noticed Alira tense up. "What's wrong?"

Alira's breath came in short gasps. She hadn't done anything wrong when she ran away from home, but the police force was in her father's pocket. She would get arrested if Hikaru caught up to her, and she knew it. "We have to get out of here." She met Hiroshi's eyes. "I'm still wanted by the police."

"Fuck."

Hiroshi wrapped an arm around her, and pushed his way through the crowd, barely ahead of Hikaru when they reached his motorcycle.

"Stop right there." Hikaru had drawn his gun from the holster. "Alira Montosuwa, you are under arrest. You are charged with theft, aggravated assault, attacking a member of the medical staff, and fleeing justice."

Hiroshi pulled her tighter. "Would you really shoot her in front of all these people if she tried to get away?"

"If it came down to that, I might," he replied coolly.

Alira was confused. "Theft? What did I steal?"

"A katana and a butcher knife from your father's home."

Alira's eyes narrowed. "We don't own a katana."

Hikaru replied evenly, "But you do own a knife."

"I didn't take it," she answered. She shifted a little, and remembered that there were bandages on her right hand from punching through the window. Great. Now the hospital staff would be after her too.

"Aggravated assault."

"My father's staff. They attacked me."

Hikaru was growing more and more impatient. "Attacking a member of the medical staff."

"Verbally."

"Pardon?"

Alira smiled. "I swore at her, and called her a whore."

"Fleeing justice."

"I'm not guilty of anything you said previously, so why would it be fleeing justice for me to run? I'm innocent."

"Your father wants you to come home. This has gone far enough, Miss. Montosuwa," Hikaru reminded her calmly.

Alira was angry now, angrier than she had been in the past couple days. "He wants me home?" she asked quietly. "He wants me home? I'm eighteen. I won't go home." Her eyes filled with tears. "He...he killed my mother," she gasped.

Her breath was coming in shallow gasps. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were slowly closing. Alira was at her side, cradling her in her arms and repeating her name over and over again. She was sobbing, old enough to know her mother was dying.

Tears flowed down Alira's cheeks to match those in her memory. "He drove us home when he was drunk. My brother was at some kind of Boy Scout camp, so he wasn't there when...he crashed into another car. The other driver was fine, and so was he. Mom..." she trailed off, vaguely noticing that Hiroshi had tightened his grip around her and added his other arm to the embrace.

She had never told anyone about that night. In passing, she had shouted accusations at her father, but no one knew that she remembered exactly what had happened. The other driver had been blamed. Driving under the influence, the documents said. Her father was the one at fault, and he had escaped with bumps and bruises. The other driver was in his twenties, and sent to prison for thirty years.

It had been fourteen years by this time. For fourteen years, her father had functioned as though nothing had happened. He had been having an affair with Tachikara Kazumi, his secretary, and Alira knew that. Even without proof, she knew.

"Teizo Montosuwa is guilty of child abuse!" she finally cried. The paparazzi mumbled amongst themselves until one that spoke Japanese and English translated what she had shouted.

Hikaru, startled, lowered his gun an inch or so. "What?" he whispered, his eyes wide.

Alira nodded tearfully. "He never hit my brother...just me."

Yuki and Shuichi had been watching the news with Tairu, and Yuki had sped the three of them to the front of the hospital. He was stepping out of the car when he heard her cry out, admitting the most painful memories of her life.

"She's telling the truth." Head turned to Eiri Yuki, the charming novelist. "She ran away from home, and I took her in. She had a black eye from her father punching her. She tried to cover it up with makeup, but I noticed."

"Lies," snapped a woman of medium height from the front of the crowd. Her hair was glossy and black, twisted up into a bun with one wavy piece falling in front of her eyes. Two ivory chopsticks were pushed through he bun.

Alira felt a jolt pass through her body.

"Lies," she repeated, stepping forward. "Her father never hit her."

Hiroshi felt Alira tense up, and knew enough to hold onto her tightly. He was worried that she would jump at the older woman. Moments later, she spat, "Tachikara Kazumi!"

The woman brushed the piece of hair behind her ear calmly. "Alira Montosuwa. Good. Now we know each other's names. Teizo never laid a hand on you, you rotten little liar."

"You wouldn't know, you bitch!"

Tachikara chuckled. "I'd prefer it if you called me 'Mom' instead." Alira was speechless as Tachikara held out a delicate hand to show her a golden band looped around her ring finger. "Your father and I are engaged. We're getting married later today." She pulled her hand back and pressed her index finger to her lips. "Oopsies, I suppose we should have mentioned that earlier, huh?"

"You fucking whore," Alira cried, tears of rage falling from her eyes.

Tachikara frowned. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You shouldn't swear at your mommy."

"You are not my mother," Alira replied coldly. "And you never will be. Get out of my life! I don't want you here!"

Hiroshi kept his arms locked around her waist. Alira was sagging against him, helpless to Tachikara's irritating remarks that she knew were touching a nerve.

"By the way, how would you like to be the flower girl?"

END CHAPTER

Tachikara is a bitch, huh?

Authoress out.