A/N: Sorry I can't respond to individual reviews here like I used to. Evidently ffdotnet is no longer allowing authors to respond to reviews at the beginning or end of chapters anymore. Why? Who knows? Ours is not to reason why…etc. etc.

CHAPTER TWO

(Tokyo, Japan 1967)

The years passed.

Izumi heard from Momma only intermittently. 'Guilt phone calls' Father called them. Months would pass between them, until at last Izumi didn't get any more phone calls at all. The only time he heard from her was when she'd send him expensive gifts on his birthday.

The house was quieter without Momma in it, Momma who'd played her records endlessly, and danced around the room. Father fired Mrs. Iwata and found a new housekeeper who only spoke Japanese. She packed up all of Karen's and Momma's belongings and sent them away to America.

Izumi wondered when Father would send him away too. He decided to be the best son, and the best student he could be. Maybe if he did his best, Father would let him stay.

He came straight home from school and studied as hard as he could. He started getting the highest marks in his class, but Father wasn't around enough to notice.

Father spent most of his time at the office. He didn't come home until late, sometimes not until after Izumi went to bed. One night Izumi stayed up to show Father his report card.

Father took the paper from him solemnly, and read it quietly.

"You did well," he said at last.

Izumi had high marks in all his classes except Physical Education, and even then he passed with a presentable grade.

Izumi beamed. "Thank you, Father, I…"

Father sighed, causing Izumi to break off and look at him questioningly.

"You look a lot like her," Father said, and Izumi understood at last that looking like Momma was not a good thing. He waited for Father to go on, but Father just turned and went to his office.

It was the P.E. grade, Izumi told himself. He'd just have to work harder at it, and that would impress Father. If he were a better son, then Father would forget how much he looked like his mother, and Father would love him again. It had to work. It just had to.

o-o-o

Izumi turned twelve the week Father brought the woman home.

"Izumi. This is Suzuya. She is going to be your new mother. I want you to respect her and obey her wishes."

Izumi felt his eyes go wide. He'd had no idea Father wanted another wife. He looked at her, standing next to Father, and expected her to be like his mother, beautiful and full of life, but she wasn't.

She was Japanese, with wide brown eyes set in a smooth but unremarkable face. She had bangs and short hair which only came down a little past her chin. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and Izumi was surprised to see that she was trying to keep them from trembling.

She bowed low at the waist to him.

"I am very glad to meet you, Izumi-chan. I will try to be a good mother to you. I hope you will come to like me in time."

Blinking, Izumi looked to his father for guidance, but his father only nodded at him brusquely.

Father obviously wanted Izumi to agree to let this woman become his new mother, so he did the only thing he could. He bowed back politely and said, "Yes, thank you. I'm sure I will."

He didn't see much of Suzuya until after the wedding. They were all to move into an apartment that Suzuya's father bought for them in the heart of Tokyo. It was in a very nice district and Izumi would have to switch schools, but Father seemed pleased, so Izumi didn't dare complain. He'd been too busy with studying to have much time for friends at his old school anyway. Nothing must keep him from succeeding, because succeeding in school was the only thing he knew to do to make Father love him again.

The apartment was big. It took up nearly a quarter of the floor of the large apartment building and had many rooms. Izumi's room was twice as big as the one he'd had back at the old house. Suzuya and he were alone in it with the servants much of the time, because Father was always at the office, as usual.

Izumi told himself that he didn't mind. He wasn't going to be like Momma, always complaining that Father wasn't around. Father worked hard. He had to, even if he had married the company president's daughter.

Izumi understood the need to prove oneself. He came home from school each day and hit the books hard.

Sometimes when he'd finish triple checking his homework, he'd find time on his hands. He always hated that.

One night he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water. It was a little too early to go to bed, but it was late enough that the servants had all gone home. That was why it was a shock to see light under the kitchen door.

Izumi pushed it open. He was twelve now, and twelve was too big to be afraid of burglars.

There, sitting at the kitchen table, was Suzuya, a cup of tea and an open magazine in front of her. She wasn't reading it though. She was staring out the window over the sink, with a sad expression on her face.

He'd caught her off guard. He'd never seen Suzuya with any other expression than a gentle smile, especially when his father was around. Feeling like the intruder he'd thought her, he backed out of the doorway.

"Izumi?"

Too late. She'd caught sight of him and turned in her chair, planting that smile of hers back on her face.

"Yes," he acknowledged.

"Please, come in. Did you want anything?" Suzuya's smile broadened welcomingly.

Izumi shifted his weight, wondering if he should deny it, but it seemed stupid to do so. "I wanted a glass of water. I'm sorry. I'll come back later." He turned to go.

"Wait, please." Suzuya stood. "I'll get you water, or tea if you'd prefer. I'm having tea, so it's no trouble."

She looked so eager, how could he refuse?

"Tea would be…nice."

Suzuya beamed. There was no other word for it. It was like a light was switched on behind her face. It made her look almost…pretty. And she wasn't pretty, not really. Not like Momma was.

Izumi felt guilty for looking down on Suzuya because she wasn't beautiful, so he sat at the table and was extra polite when he thanked her for the tea she placed in front of him.

Once they'd both settled at the table, it seemed they had nothing to say. The silence droned on, and Izumi had to resist an urge to squirm. Suzuya began to look as uncomfortable as he did.

"What are you reading?" he asked at last.

"Oh this?" She picked up the magazine and showed him the cover. It was a business weekly.

"Is it interesting?"

Suzuya opened her mouth to answer glibly, considered a little, then grinned. "Not especially. I only read it so I'll have something to talk about with Izumi, I mean Izumi senior, your father." She turned slightly pink as she muddled through her words, then sighed. "I miss him when he's not here."

Izumi blinked. Could it be that Suzuya was shy? Father had drummed it into Izumi for days before the wedding that Suzuya came from an important family, and that she was used to being treated with respect, and Izumi wasn't to bother her in any way. Izumi assumed she didn't want to be bothered, so he'd left her strictly alone. He regretted that now.

"Me too," he said.

They finished their tea and went off to their respective rooms.

Things were different after that. When Izumi got home from school, Suzuya would make a point of stopping him to ask how his day had been. Each night she would bring him tea in his room and talk to him a little bit as he drank it. A 'study break' she called it. It was never more than ten or fifteen minutes, so he never resented the lost time, and oddly enough he seemed to be able to focus better afterwards.

One night he found the courage to ask her. She was sitting primly on his bed, the tray that she'd brought the tea in on beside her.

"Suzuya, how do you know about study breaks?" Izumi turned in his chair at his desk to face her.

She smiled and got a far off look in her eye. "My mother used to insist on study breaks for me. My father was determined that I get into a good school, so he made me study very hard, even in Junior High School. After my mother died, I didn't get study breaks any more."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Izumi slurped his tea nervously. He'd made her sad. Now she'd get angry like Momma always did after someone made her sad. He braced himself.

"You don't have to be. It happened years ago, right before my first year of High School." Suzuya pulled her knees to her chest and smoothed her long skirt around her ankles. "So you see, I know what it's like to grow up without a mother."

Izumi looked into his tea. Momma never brought him tea when he was little. Momma always had Mrs. Iwata do everything. He admitted to himself, finally, that even though he missed her, life was much quieter and less stressful when she wasn't around.

"But I'm not growing up without a mother," Izumi whispered softly. "I have you." He could feel his cheeks coloring, and kept staring intently into the teacup.

"Oh, Izumi." Suzuya slipped off the bed. Her arms came around Izumi's shoulders and she hugged him gently. "It makes me very happy that you think of me as a mother. I will do my best to be a good mother."

He recognized that determination in her voice. It was the same determination he had to please Father. It looked like he and Suzuya had a lot more in common than he thought. Setting down his tea on his desk, he hugged her back.

o-o-o

Izumi and Suzuya were going shopping. Father's birthday was in a few weeks, and Suzuya promised Izumi they would go on a Saturday afternoon. Father would be busy meeting with an American executive in town for the week.

Halfway to the store, Suzuya remembered that she'd left the paper with Father's sizes on her desk back home. She ordered the limousine to take them back to the apartment building. Smiling, she made a joke about how forgetful she was, but Izumi knew that she'd been flustered when the American had shown up at the apartment half an hour early, just as they were leaving.

She'd been anxious to go. Izumi noticed it even though she'd greeted the tall, sandy haired American formally with a bow.

He'd asked her about it in the limousine.

"Do you not like Bob-san?"

Suzuya blinked. "The American? Why would you ask that?"

"You wanted to leave before he came."

"Oh, that."

Suzuya considered a little before answering quietly. "I don't know this Bob Spencer at all. Your father doesn't like it when I'm around his colleagues from America. He doesn't trust them very much, but I think it is different with this one. Bob-san is the younger brother of a man your father worked with in America. He told this man that he would 'show him the ropes' while Bob-san is in Japan. I just don't want to do anything that might make your father…uncomfortable." She smiled. "But let's not talk about that. What would you like to get your father? A new tie perhaps? I was thinking of getting him a shirt and…"

Suzuya began rummaging through her purse. "Oh no! I left the paper with your father's sizes on it at home!"

This was how Izumi and Suzuya wound up quietly opening the apartment door. Suzuya hadn't wanted to ring the bell – which would have alerted the servants and disturbed Father and his guest.

As they crept inside, Father's voice rang out from the den.

"…if you really want to get ahead in a Japanese firm, the best way is to marry the boss's daughter."

Suzuya froze. Izumi glanced up at her, not really understanding why until the significance of his father's words sank in. Was Father speaking of himself?

Father continued. "Business in Japan is run differently. Ability matters, yes, but it's the connections that matter most. So the best advice I can give you is, if you plan to stay in Japan and make a success of yourself, then marry the daughter of the highest CEO you can find."

Bob laughed uncertainly, then asked, "What about love?"

"Love?" Izumi heard the ice cubes in father's drink rattle together as he paused to take a swig. Then Father's voice rang out clearly, harshly. "Love is for fools. Find a wife who'll help you get ahead in business. Think of it as a business transaction, nothing more."

Suzuya dropped her purse and ran back out the door.

Izumi stood for a second, hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to go tell father what he thought of him for hurting Suzuya's feelings like that, but this was Father. How could he confront Father? And what about Suzuya? His concern for her outweighed his brief spurt of rebellion.

Izumi pivoted and ran after her. He made it to the marble tiled hallway just in time to see the elevator doors close. Skidding to a stop, he regarded the smooth metal expanse and wondered what to do. The stairs were at the end of the hall, but Izumi had no illusions about his physical prowess. P.E. was his worst class. If he tried to run down the stairs he'd just end up gasping and wheezing for breath by the fourth floor down, and he'd never catch up to Suzuya. There was no help for it, he'd just have to wait for the elevator.

Jamming his finger against the 'down' button over and over didn't make the elevator move any faster, but Izumi did it anyway. By the time the elevator doors opened again he was fairly dancing with impatience.

He dashed inside and waited for the doors to close behind him. Eyes glued to the panel at the top of the doors, he watched the lighted numbers of the floors count down until finally the elevator stopped at the first floor.

Izumi began running before the doors even opened, skidding slightly on the marble foyer before shoving the glass entry doors open hard, and bursting out onto the sidewalk.

"Hey!" the doorman exclaimed.

Ignoring him, Izumi glanced frantically right and left. The limousine was still parked in front of the building, doors closed. He could see that she wasn't in it, so where had she gone?

He was just opening his mouth to ask the doorman if he'd seen her when he heard squealing tires and the sickening noise of impact.

A woman screamed.

Izumi looked to his left and saw a crowd gathering at the end of the block. The woman who'd screamed had her back turned to him and was staring at something in the street. She'd dropped her shopping bag and was beginning to sob.

Izumi began to run towards her. More people were rushing toward the intersection at the end of the block now. He had to push past people to get to the edge of the sidewalk. Cars were stopping, unable to get through the intersection, and some began to honk their horns.

He pushed and shoved through the gathering crowd until he came to a stop by the sobbing woman. Distantly, he heard her saying, over and over, "She just walked right out into traffic, she didn't look! she didn't look!"

Then his mind filled with a sound like rushing water and it filled everything, blotting out the noises around him until only the sight in front of him registered.

There was Suzuya, her body broken and her eyes staring sightlessly, lying on the roadway in a spreading pool of blood.

She was dead.

Suzuya was dead.

That was two mothers who'd left him now. Izumi continued to stare, his eyes noting and storing details and images in his brain that would haunt his nightmares for years to come.

A drop of water hit his eye. Another splashed against his cheekbone. Izumi raised his head and stared up at the gathering clouds above.

It had begun to rain.