Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation or the characters portrayed within it. They belong to the wonderful Maki Murakami and I'm only using her ideas and a bit of my own artistic license to write a story.

In wings of Channel, she walks in the twilight.


Chapter Three

Riders on the Storm

The street Tohma walked down was empty. He checked his wristwatch again: 07:48 am, Sunday. He did the math in his head and quickly calculated it was 5:48 pm, Saturday, in New York. He wrapped his long coat tighter around his neck, but neither the coat nor the hat he was wearing stopped him from getting wet. The rain that had started the previous night hadn't let out and he hadn't found an umbrella at Ryuichi's apartment before he'd left, so now he found himself entirely at the mercy of the elements – a strong wind and an unforgiving downpour characteristic of Japan's rainy season. Apparently his friend didn't mind getting drenched in the rain. Either that or he'd taken his umbrellas with him to Australia, in which case he would be in for a surprise. Tohma almost smiled at the vision of Ryuichi holding an open umbrella in the middle of sunny Sydney, or better yet, the Aussie Outback.

Quickening his pace Tohma reached his destination: a public payphone down the street from Ryuichi's apartment complex. A few chain department stores flanked both sides of a road that on any other day would have been fairly busy, but that on a Sunday morning was completely deserted. Not a soul was in sight.

He picked up the bulky, green receiver and cradled it against his shoulder. He put in some change and dialed a number he knew off by heart. The number started with the two international digits and he followed it with the code for the US, the prefix for New York and a home telephone number. It wasn't long until he got a ringing tone and Tohma was waiting in the rain with his eyes closed. He found the sound and sensation of the heavy drops pelting down on his head soothing to his senses. Crystal-clear droplets of water hung onto the edges of his hat, like morning dew about to fall from a mushroom. On the seventh ring someone picked up.

"Andrew?"

A brief pause followed before he got a reply. "Who's this?" the voice at the other end inquired in American accented English. The line was clear, but the payphone was not enclosed, and the sound of the rain drowned the voice of the speaker a little. Tohma covered his right ear with a hand.

"Andrew?" he repeated.

"Tohma? Is that you? You sound kind of funny."

"Yes, it's me," Tohma replied in the same language Andrew had used to address him.

"Jesus Christ! It's about fricking time you called. Where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over for you since yesterday morning. I even left a few messages in your phone because I heard you were feeling sick when you left the office on Thursday. Are you all right?"

When Andrew spoke of Thursday Tohma once again had the strange notion that time was being warped around him. Thursday's events were already blurry in his head, as though they had taken place a long, long time ago; or as though they belonged with the fuzzy and convoluted memories more commonly associated with the stupor of drunken nights. "I'm… okay. Well, kind of." Tohma's voice came out raspy, and he had to clear his throat to speak. "Listen—"

"Man, you owe me big time," Andrew cut in, "I had to cover your ass at the office yesterday. When everybody started asking I told Nicky you'd called me in the morning and told me you wouldn't be able to make it to work, but that I'd forgotten to tell her. You should have seen how she looked at me when I told her with a straight face. It was almost ten by the time I figured you weren't coming and I think she smelled something fishy was going on, but she won't say a word, so don't worry."

Tohma was shocked at the conversational tone of his friend, when he remembered that the rest of the world wasn't immersed in the same turmoil that he was. "I'm sorry to have imposed on you, Andrew. Thank you for the trouble. Was everything okay yesterday?" Tohma tried to sound normal, but his words came out drawled. He felt slightly dizzy and had a headache like he hadn't had since the first few crazy months of Nittle Grasper. It felt as though his brain was coated with drying cement. He took a deep breath through his nose, to clear his head.

"Yeah, it was all right, don't you worry." Andrew chortled. "I never get tired of you being all proper and Japanese, you know? But, seriously, it was no trouble at all. We are friends, right? You'd have done the same for me. Besides, Mr. Riley went to some weekend conference in Philadelphia so everybody was doing the Friday afternoon slacking ritual anyway."

Tohma couldn't help a small smile at the memories of slower-paced Friday afternoons in New York. People always seemed to be friendlier on Fridays, a message of 'Have a good weekend' thrown over their shoulder as they sneakily left the office early with a twinkle in their eyes.

"What were you doing yesterday if you weren't sick?"

A drop of water fell off Tohma's hat and found its way down a lock of hair and onto the side of his neck, where it precipitated further down the collar of his shirt and the base of his neck. Tohma shuddered. "It's a long story," he said. Sighing, he decided to start with the obvious. "The truth is I'm in Tokyo right now." Tohma rested his arm on the payphone and pressed his forehead to it, letting his head roll to the side over his damp jacket sleeve. Through the small gap between the payphone and his arm he could see the outline of a person walking towards him in the far distance. The image was just a distorted dark blur moving under the rain, further up the street. Tohma rolled his head back on his arm to look at the little screen on the receiver and to check the status of the line.

"Andrew?"

"Sorry, I was looking at my watch. Are you serious? You are in Tokyo right now? This very minute? What time is it there? Is everything okay?"

Tohma sighed and looked to the floor. Needles of rain fell all around him, initiating little ripples when they hit a thin layer of water around his feet. "No, everything's not okay, actually."

"Oh, no. Nothing too serious, I hope." Andrew's tone sobered up, exuding genuine concern.

"The truth is things are very complicated right now. It's a family problem. Something serious unfortunately," Tohma talked around his situation without being specific. His hat had tipped forward slightly and the back of his hair was now getting wet as well. He was getting soaked in the rain, but he didn't care. Any punishment, be it self-inflicted or otherwise, was welcomed by him.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Andrew said and awaited further elaboration. Tohma didn't provide it, however, so Andrew filled in the void in the conversation with a simple, "I understand." Tohma remembered a time last year when Andrew received a phone call early in the morning. Afterwards, he took off without giving any explanations and it wasn't until the next day that they learnt what had happened. His brother's wife was involved in a car accident and had died instantly. Andrew had rushed back home to Chicago right after hearing the news. He'd forgotten to tell their bosses about his circumstances, but lucky for him Riley had been understanding, and Andrew didn't even get a reprimand for not giving notice of his sudden departure.

"I'm sure you do," Tohma said.

"Listen, Tohma, whatever it is, I'm sorry. If there is anything at all I can do to help, just give the word."

"Thanks, Andrew." Tohma was stalling. He knew Andrew must be wondering the purpose of the call. The two men were quite close, but not close enough for Tohma to call and pour his heart out to Andrew.

"I guess this means you won't be coming in on Monday then. Don't worry about the meeting with Gordon, okay? We'll manage without you. I'll get John to help me with it. Also Riley will be back by then."

Tohma cursed inwardly. The truth was that wasn't the reason he was calling; in actuality, he had completely forgotten about that meeting. He hated letting people down, no matter what his personal circumstances were. However, the sudden realization that he was being unreliable at work seemed like a trifling matter next to the other instances in his life where he felt he had failed over the last few days. It was just a drop of water in an ocean of self-disappointment, a meager drop of rain in a downpour of emotions.

"Yes, that's right. I won't be back for the meeting with Gordon, but you know I keep the folders in the cabinet in my office. I didn't lock it on Thursday, so just help yourself to them," Tohma improvised a reply.

"Will do," Tohma heard through the line. "Andrew, the other reason I was calling is to check if you could do me a favor before I talk to Riley myself. I think he won't like what I have to tell him and I'd like you to get some of my stuff from my office before I turn in my resignation."

"Your resignation?" Andrew asked scandalized, but he quickly got himself under control. "Your resignation?" he asked again, this time more calmly.

"My resignation," Tohma said in a low voice.

"Tohma…" The sound of Andrew's half-frustrated sigh came out clear through the line. "There must be another way. If you need some time off, I'm sure they'll give it to you."

Tohma didn't say anything.

"You haven't been with us long, but you already have a better track record than people who've been working here a lot longer. I don't know what advice to give you since I don't know the particulars, but I can tell you one thing: think about this, don't throw all your hard work away. We are a team, you and I, remember?"

"I don't think I have an alternative at the moment." This time it was Tohma who sighed.

"Perhaps you could arrange a long-term leave. Or maybe–"

Tohma shook his head, "Andrew, listen to me. The truth is I don't think I'm coming back there any time soon. It's over. I'm sorry."

"I need to sit down," Andrew exhaled, sounding bewildered. Andrew Leighton was a little more than Tohma's best acquaintance at the office. He had proved to be an open and friendly guy with Tohma from day one, welcoming him warmly as part of the team despite the competitive nature of their posts. In a world where everyone was waiting for their chance to see you stumble and fall, Andrew had given Tohma all the right advice and shown him the ropes of the trade over the first few hectic weeks. Additionally, the Japanese way of life and culture were radically different to those of the western world. Luckily for Tohma, though, Andrew had smoothed out those differences for him, making the transition from a continent on the other side of the world a lot easier than it would have been otherwise. Tohma knew that part of the reason he had settled down so soon professionally, and by default outside of work, was thanks to the man who was now waiting for some sort of explanation at the other end of the line, half way across the world. Tohma knew he owed that explanation to him. Moreover, Tohma wanted to give it, and to share his burden with someone. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

"I'm sorry I can't be more explicit right now." As soon as the words left his mouth Tohma felt a pang of regret and relief at the same time. He would not be foolish and rash in sharing his emotions. This burden was just the first of very many he would have to carry on his own.

"That's… that's fine." Andrew sounded disappointed, as though he'd expected Tohma to confide in him after all. Tohma could picture the sad smile that was certainly at the other end of the line, but he pushed his hesitations aside. "I'm sorry I can't tell you anything at the moment. It's complicated."

"Nah, forget it." A short stretch of silence followed before Andrew spoke again. "Tell me, old buddy, what can I do for you?"

Tohma proceeded to tell him. When he was almost done Tohma glanced to his right again. The person who'd been walking towards him was clearly visible now. It was a woman. A pair of long, slender legs peeked out from under a black skirt that hugged her thighs and stopped before the knees. Her face was hidden under a black umbrella she was holding in front of her to stop the rain that came down at an angle. She had a stylish and slightly coquettish way of walking, positioning one foot in front of the other to make her hips sway subtly. Her scarlet-red high heels tapped against the large concrete slabs of the pavement, and when Tohma turned to face the payphone again, he could hear the constant tapping of her footsteps moving closer over the pitter-patter of the rain.

"Is that all? Anything else you'd like me to do?" Andrew asked.

"Yes, don't tell anyone at the office you've spoken to me. I'll explain tomorrow. I'll call you again." The approaching footsteps were getting louder, and Tohma tried to focus his attention on the phone conversation.

"All right, if that's what you want. You can call my home or mobile phone any time, okay? And I mean any time. I don't know what the time difference is, but it doesn't matter. The wife might mind it if it's in the middle of the night, but I'll handle her."

Tohma smiled a little. "Thank you, Andrew. This time I definitely 'owe you big time'." A light chuckle reached his ear through the phone line just as the woman passed Tohma on the otherwise empty street. A cloud of sweet perfume trailed subtly behind her as she did, and Tohma caught her scent mingled with the damp air and the mist of rain. He could almost taste it on his tongue. He breathed in again. The fragrance was fresh, familiar, and it somehow triggered a memory; a memory that was still fuzzy and abstract as it tried to come into focus and to full life in Tohma's brain. Instinct told him that it was a nice memory.

"Don't mention it. I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Take care, Tohma."

"Yes. You, too. Thanks again." Tohma put the receiver down, wondering if he'd done the right thing by calling Andrew. He shook his head; it was too late now to regret calling. Tohma turned right to walk to the other place he'd meant to visit on his outing, but he halted straight away, feeling something in his surroundings was out of place. He soon realized what it was: the footsteps had stopped, and the white noise of rain washing the streets was all he could hear. He turned around slowly and looked up. The woman who had passed him a minute ago was standing still with her back to him, a couple of meters away from the payphone. Now that he could see her back, he could see she was quite tall and that her hair came down to her shoulders. She turned around almost immediately after he did. Sleek tendrils of chestnut hair whipped around for a fraction of a second before the umbrella turned around with her, hiding her hair and her face.

Suddenly, the memory materialized in Tohma's brain, hitting him with the force of a ton of bricks. A fashion show. New York. Two months ago. The exclusive perfume he'd bought. The nice feeling surrounding the memory turned to one of dread. Tohma staggered backwards slightly. Out of all the possible people he could bump into in a lonely street of Tokyo at eight in morning; out of all the possible people he could meet on his first day back in Japan… this had to be the worst possibility. Tohma's mind concluded it had to be an illusion.

The black umbrella lifted slowly. Each thing next happened as if in very slow motion. First he saw the small, heart-shaped mouth, painted the same hue as the stiletto shoes. Then he saw the small, slightly pointed nose, and lastly were the widest brown eyes he'd ever seen. Tohma's suspicions became a reality. A heavy feeling of sickness settled at the pit of his stomach. The world suddenly got very small, much too small, and it was spinning out of control right under his feet. He felt trapped in the illusion.

"Seguchi-san? I thought it was you. But it cannot be!" Her big brown eyes were wild with incredulity. Her voice was just like he remembered: a bit on the shrieking side, strong, full of commanding power. For a second he almost believed her. It couldn't be! Of course it couldn't be, his brain screamed. It was all an illusion. An elaborate illusion created by his overactive brain. Blood rushed through his temples and he heard her speak as if through a thick wall.

"It cannot be because you are supposed to be in America with—"

"—your brother," he heard himself interrupt her. "Uesugi-san, something terrible has happened. I know not where to begin explaining." Despite the rain, Tohma felt his body start to sweat under his layers of wet clothing.

She was gawking at him as though she was sure he was an illusion as well. Tohma sighed, "Would you accompany me to the supermarket?" His request sounded surreal even to his own ears, despite knowing what he had meant to say. The jumbled statement and cryptic question definitely weren't the first thing he'd pictured himself telling his fiancé in person on their first meeting back in Japan. For better or for worse, however, those were the words that came out from his mouth. He couldn't take them back now. She knew something was horribly wrong and it showed on her face.

Tohma entered the supermarket. It was one of the hundreds 7-11's that were sprinkled all over Tokyo city, with large kanji symbols displayed on the glass windows. Horizontal fluorescent tubes hang from the ceiling by short, plastic cables, lighting aisles packed with fruit, vegetables, canned food, freezers, and rows of video games, consoles, DVDs and alcohol. Their bright white light reflected off the cheap, plain tiles of the floor where he was leaving a wet puddle with his drenched clothes. His shoes made a squelching sound whilst Mika's red stilettos made a clacking sound behind him, similar to the one he'd heard on the street, but sharper. Their walk was a periodic rhythm that drilled into his heavy head, along with Mika's eyes on the back of his head. Squelch, squelch. Clack, clack. Squelch, squelch. The 7-11 was as lonely as the street outside and its sterile appearance added to Tohma's sense of chillness. Cold sweat ran down his spine and he shivered.

"What are you doing in Tokyo, Uesugi-san?" Tohma asked his fiancé, addressing her politely in an even voice. Despite having been engaged for some time, they hadn't met each other many times or spoken to each other enough to be on a first names basis yet.

"I could ask you the same question, Seguchi-san," she replied just as dryly. A million and one questions seemed to be hanging from her lips, but she didn't utter a single one of them. Instead, she kept her little mouth tightly pursed and her walk brisk. He'd told her he would explain everything, and asked her to give him some time to figure out how to tell her exactly. Tohma was glad she had complied and followed him to the supermarket where he planned to buy some breakfast for Eiri and himself, since Ryuichi didn't have any food in the apartment. Tohma stopped and scanned the shelf with his eyes, picking up a couple of items from it and putting them in a basket. He knew he couldn't stall for much longer, however. He had been avoiding Mika's inquisitive stare ever since he'd turned around and walked away from the payphone. She had walked behind him all that time, close enough for part of her umbrella to shelter his back from the downpour.

"Seguchi-san," Mika started, her tone questioning, "Where's my brother? Is he with you?"

Tohma knew when his time had run out. He went straight to the point. "Uesugi-san, there was an… incident in New York this Thursday. Eiri's tutor is dead."

Mika Uesugi drew in a sharp intake of breath and took a small step back. It was clear that wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear. It was shocking news, but nothing compared to what he hadn't told her yet. "Kitazawa-san is? How? When? What happened? Is Eiri okay?"

"There was an incident. I shouldn't have let it happen, Uesugi-san. I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about? Where's my brother? What happened?"

"Your brother is at my friend Ryuichi's apartment. He was asleep when I left him and I was hoping to get back in time to wake him and give him breakfast. I would like for him to find me there if he wakes up. As you will probably understand, he's in a very fragile state at the moment. We need to go back as soon as possible." Tohma mustered enough energy to look at her then. His gaze was tired and defeated, his eyes bloodshot. He offered her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll explain on the way."

"I don't understand what the message on the answering machine has to do with Kitazawa's death." Mika's voice came in a whisper as she and Tohma stepped inside the elevator. Tohma thought the words Kitazawa's death and Mika Uesugi shouldn't happen together.

"Like I've explained already, the message was very confusing. He talked in a rush, and he sounded afraid or confused; I don't know. His voice was very low, as though he was whispering. All I could really grasp was that Kitazawa-san was acting strange, and then I heard someone say something in the background and the phone call ended." The elevator arrived and the doors opened but both of them stayed put. With the hand he wasn't using to hold the bag of groceries, Tohma held onto the key, keeping the lift doors open. He didn't pull the key out and the lift stood still in the top floor of Ryuichi's tall building.

"I'm so sorry," Tohma whispered.

Mika awaited further explanation. It was obvious she was getting tired of going around in circles. She wanted to hear what he was so sorry for, the reason he kept apologizing over and over again, without ever telling her what he was to blame for.

"I got home early on Thursday, but I wasn't feeling well, so I forgot to check the answering machine on my way into the apartment. I went and had a shower instead, and then I got changed." Tohma's voice grew quieter and quieter with every spoken sentence; his eyes were fixed on the fingers holding onto the elevator's key.

"Around forty-five minutes must have passed before I sat down and went through the answering machine messages. Eiri's message was from an hour before. I didn't know I had a message from Eiri, Uesugi-san. Usually he would be studying in the library all afternoon and he wouldn't call. If only I had known, then perhaps… perhaps if I had heard the message sooner I would have been able to do something. Even if I'd only heard it five minutes earlier, or if I had run more quickly, or even called the police…"

Mika frowned at the mention of the police. "The police? What do they have to do with this? Tohma, what happened?" She was growing more fearful and impatient by the minute.

Tohma's eyes were still open but they were unseeing. His mind was lost in the events of that evening. "I remember something inside me went wild with worry. A sixth sense told me that something was very wrong. I tried calling Eiri's mobile phone straight away, but it was switched off."

Mika hung onto every word that left Tohma's lips, her ears straining to listen. "Then I tried calling Kitazawa but his mobile phone was also switched off." Tohma swallowed and licked his dry lips, "I tried his house and someone picked up. Well, not exactly. It sounded more as though the phone had been knocked over and then I heard some loud voices. I thought I heard Eiri in the background, but I couldn't say for sure. Then the line went dead. When I called again I couldn't get through; the line had been disconnected."

Tohma's reddened eyes shifted to look into his fiancé's. It was as though he was hoping he could transmit to her what had happened next with will power alone, through the intensity of his eyes only. It seemed to work somewhat, for her mouth trembled and her breath hitched. The words resonated inside his head, but he couldn't speak them. Tohma didn't know what would happen if he said the words out loud. He didn't know if he could utter them because they would finally make the last few days real. It wouldn't be Eiri and Tohma's secret any longer. What he had allowed to happen would be something someone else in the Uesugi family would know; something someone else in the world would know. New responsibilities would have to be shared, and judgments would be passed on. He knew the time to face up to the facts would eventually come, but he wasn't prepared for it to be this soon. His head was spinning, his mouth was dry and his stomach tied up in knots. He was fighting the urge to be sick. This was the moment he had been dreading from the instant he'd realized his fiancé, Eiri's own sister, had crossed his path in a lonely street of Tokyo under an ashen, turbulent sky.

Their eyes stayed locked together for a moment that seemed to stretch to eternity. A sense of foreboding was etched on Mika's face – her jaw set firmly, her eyes unblinking, her breath now arrhythmic. The tension of unspoken words inside the lift was so palpable it could almost be sliced with a blade.

"When I got there he was dead already, Uesugi-san." Tohma's hands started to shake and the plastic bag he was carrying rustled against his leg.

"I don't understand, Tohma!" Mika's hands flew to grab Tohma's wet coat. Her long, red fingernails dug into his chest, but he didn't even flinch. She looked at him with confusion and fear in her dark pupils. She shook him, trying to extract from him the last few pieces of the puzzle. Tohma's almost inaudible words, however, only added more dimensions to the riddle. His shoe. Assaulted. The shot. The gun. Blood. Dead.

"He killed him, Uesugi-san. Eiri-kun killed him," Tohma whispered. His eyes bore an expression of horror, as if he were only processing the information for the first time himself. A gasp escaped Mika when she heard those words. Her hands immediately left Tohma's lapel to clasp tightly over her mouth. Her eyes really were the widest brown eyes he'd ever seen.

A door clicked open along the corridor and they both turned to look. "Eiri," they whispered simultaneously. Eiri stood at the door like the image of a ghost, wearing a loose t-shirt and white baggy trousers. His hair was disheveled, his skin pale. He was as thin and lanky as a rake. His body went rigid and his eyes wide.

The moment Mika's foot stepped outside of the elevator Eiri reeled back and bumped against the door behind him. His arm came up in front of his chest in reflex, and when Mika grabbed it he flinched visibly. She pulled him towards her and wrapped her own long arms around him. At first it was as if Eiri was rooted to a spot on the floor by some invisible force. An expression of puzzlement and fear was etched on his face. Then, all of a sudden, his head slumped forward. Mika placed a hand to his neck, and drew him towards her chest. His hands came up and curled around the fabric of the back of her jacket in shaking fists forceful enough to make his knuckle go white.

"Mikarin…" he whispered. When she heard Eiri call her with the name he'd only used as a little child, the grown woman standing before them started to cry. Silent tears fell down her face, blurring her mascara.

Tohma stepped outside of the elevator and the doors closed behind him. The keys in his hand jiggled. His step was shaky and his legs turned to jelly. His knees gave way under him and he stumbled sideways. His right shoulder crashed against the wall of the corridor and his neck suddenly seemed to him too weak to hold his head upright. His head fell forward and the hat he was wearing dropped in front of him, spitting drops of water everywhere when it hit the carpet. The grocery bag slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. Some of its contents spilled out and all he could do was stare at them and the umbrella on the blue carpet. His throat was constricted, his eyes stung and he was finding it hard to get the air all the way to his lungs. A deep red flush covered his face and the rest of his body. He felt hot all over. He was drowning in shame.

For a while they lost track of time until Mika's feet shifted on the carpet and she sniffled, bringing them all out of their personal nightmare. She stopped crying, wiped her face with her fingertips and smiled awkwardly at her brother. "Eiri, you look so grown up," she said a bit shakily. A rush of breath went out of her mouth when she tried to smile again. For a moment it looked as though she was going to say something, but couldn't. She held his face and touched his cheeks with her slightly wet thumbs. "And you have grown so tall, too. I dare say you need a shave." She fumbled with his hair and straightened down his wrinkled shirt, then reached down to take his hands in hers and gave them a firm, re-assuring tug. "Seguchi-san here says you should be hungry. Now, why don't we go in and let me cook you something with the things Seguchi-san has bought?"

Mika turned around and watched Tohma. He looked up at them, but he didn't meet their eyes, looking past them and into Ryuichi's apartment instead. "I'll admit instant dried noodles would not be my choice for breakfast, but it will have to do," she said softly, smiling at him. His legs were weak still but he thought he managed to bend down and pick up his hat without showing it. He put it on and started picking up the groceries from the floor, feeling awkward by Mika's motherly attitude towards them both. He was a grown man and Eiri, though he didn't act like it sometimes, was on the verge of becoming a young man, too. Mika was only twenty-two. Tohma was the oldest and he thought he should be the one showing aplomb and taking care of them instead of acting like a kid whom had been handed too many responsibilities and broken down upon not delivering.

"Ryuichi-san has a rice cooker," Eiri said suddenly, sounding the most normal he had in the last few days. "He's also got some rice in a cupboard. I can cook some rice."

"Okay, then. You do that, and I'll see what else I can put together." Mika put a hand to Eiri's shoulder and steered him into the apartment. Tohma followed them shortly. Before long, the door was shut behind them and the three of them were minutes away from a world that would become theirs alone for years to come.

Mika opened the windows and removed the sheets off all the furniture in the lounge. Tohma went into the bathroom where he changed into dry clothes and Eiri started rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Mika took the liberty of quickly shifting through Ryuichi's CD collection, but was disappointed to find it was composed mostly of modern Japanese pop and rock. She switched on the stereo and went to a classical music radio station. Soon, the clear notes of Chopin's Prelude in D flat major otherwise known as 'Raindrop', filled Ryuichi's apartment. The piece earned its nickname because of the raindrop effect caused by a softly repeating D-flat note. The repeating note added a note of sadness to the otherwise tranquil opening of the melody; it haunted the rest of the piece and climaxed in an apparent downpour before the initial calm returned. She turned down the volume and left the melody as background music.

The kitchen, a medium sized room full of modern appliances with all of the manufacturer's stickers still on, looked as though it had never been used. Mika went inside it, where she and Eiri worked together in silence as they prepared a simple meal. They moved slowly and languidly around each other, their arms brushing together tenderly every now and then. Mika donned small physical gestures of affection on her brother – a hand on Eiri's shoulder, a ruffle of his hair, warm smiles and soft eyes. Eiri was never a touchy-feely person, but he welcomed all the contact and reassurance his sister gave him now, and he even seemed to seek it. In the meantime Tohma set the table.

When they finished, Mika and Eiri took the plates into the dinning room. The music that reached their ears now was that of the more dramatic and fast-paced opening to Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu, but it wasn't coming out of the speakers. Tohma was sitting down in the corner of the lounge, by the large glass windows. Weak rays of light came from behind him, cutting out his silhouette against the overcast background. His eyes were closed and his body tense as his hands danced upon the large array of black and white keys of a majestic grand piano. The piano was still partially covered by a white sheet; its excess fabric draped softly onto the wooden floor.

The melody stopped suddenly, leaving a void of silence behind. "We need to talk," he declared looking at his fiancé. Mika nodded and Eiri looked to the floor.

"I won't tell you what happened," Eiri said and put his tray down on the table. Mika did likewise. "All right… You don't need to be specific, but if I ask you some questions, will you answer 'yes' or 'no'?" Mika was asking but something in the way she said it left no room for argument.

Tohma got up and closed the lid of the black-lacquered grand piano with a soft thud. "Let's eat first," he said. And eat they did.

Half an hour later, they all sat around a small Japanese table, their legs folded and tucked under them in the Japanese way. After a moment, Eiri shifted on his spot, probably not accustomed to seating that way anymore. Eiri and Mika had been doing it for a lot longer and hence didn't have the same problem. His hands rested neatly on his lap and he was holding his breath. A nervous blush covered his cheeks.

Mika served some tea and spoke first. When she did, her voice was calm, non-accusative. "First of all, I would like to know why you flew over to Japan without as much as calling Kyoto first." Eiri and Tohma stayed silent. Mika sighed, "I don't care about Kitazawa," she said, glancing first at Eiri and then at Tohma. "If he did something to my brother that he shouldn't have done then he got what he deserved." She said the last sentence with her teeth clenched. A thin sheen of sweat coated Eiri's forehead and he wiped it with the back of his arm. "I'm most worried about you, Eiri," she added, looking at him.

"I'm fine," he said, wiping his hands on his lap.

"Uesugi-san," Tohma spoke finally. "If you don't mind I'd like to talk to you in private." He turned to look at Eiri and put a hand on his shoulder under Mika's watchful eyes. "Would you mind leaving the room for a moment?" Tohma asked. Eiri looked at his sister, asking for approval with his eyes. She nodded briefly and Eiri got up, bowed slightly and left. Tohma and Mika's eyes followed him to the door. When it closed they looked at each other, but said nothing.

Tohma's hands clenched in fists on his lap. He hadn't tried his tea.

"Seguchi-san?"

"There's no easy way to say this, Uesugi-san, so I'll make this as brief and painless as I possibly can for the both of us." Mika nodded, understanding.

"I think Kitazawa raped him." The words ripped through the air and lingered, full of meaning. Mika looked away from him, flinching and closing her eyes. She took in a deep breath. Tohma rested his elbows on the table, and interlocked his fingers together, making an inverted V shape with his arms.

"How can this be?" Mika whispered. Tohma pressed his mouth to his hands and when he spoke his voice came out quiet. "I think Eiri-kun loved him, Uesugi-san. In a romantic sense."

"What? How do you know that? What evidence do you have?" She sounded hurt and confused.

"It's hard to say. You had to see him when he was around his sensei to tell."

"Seguchi-san, why did you never say anything about this to me before? I'm his sister, and you are, you are – " Mika's voice trailed to silent. Her lower lip quavered.

"I'm nobody, I know," Tohma said flinching. Mika covered her mouth with her hand. "That's not what I meant to say," she said truthfully. "It's the truth, though." Tohma looked saddened. "I guess I never told you because I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination." Tohma swallowed. His mouth was dry but he didn't lick his lips.

"Even so, you should have shared your suspicions with me." Mika's tone was stern. "I can't believe this." She looked through him rather than at him.

"Uesugi -san, I'm only saying this now because I found something in Eiri's room last week that finally convinced me of his infatuation with his sensei. I know it may seem like a violation of his privacy, but I accidentally came across a stack of poems, written in Japanese, when I went into his room looking for a stapler. They were vague but I understood them because I know Eiri. One of them stood out in particular – A Winter's Encounter was the title. The poem was full of metaphors, but it spoke of discovering first love, of mixed feelings and –" Tohma lowered his voice; he seemed to hesitate a moment before he uttered, "secret desires." Tohma couldn't handle looking at Mika whilst remembering the powerful poem and how it had left him feeling dizzy with realizations for two days after he'd read it. His hand reached out to grab the tea cup and he drank a little, softening the inside of his parched mouth. The tea was still warm.

Mika seemed to be finding her bearings. "Do you think he – they—" Tohma shook his head before she could finish the question. "I don't think so. I think his feelings weren't returned."

Mika sighed in relief. "Did you… did you speak to Kitazawa about this?"

Tohma closed his eyes and, slowly, he nodded. "God help me, what did I do?" His breath hitched.

Mika hesitated and put a hand on her future husband's shoulder. "It's not your fault, Seguchi-san," she said. "No one is to blame for the perversion of a wretched man." Tohma's shoulders slumped and he covered Mika's hand with his own. He hadn't planned to fall apart, but it seemed like he was falling through an endless pit whose bottom he couldn't see and he desperately needed to grab onto something solid. He fought the urge to cry. He breathed in deep, but the more he tried not to let the knot in his throat untangle, the tighter it seemed to squeeze him.

"I was in Kitazawa's building when I heard a gunshot. Eiri… he – he…" Tohma paused and swallowed. Mika moved closer to Tohma and put her other hand on top of his on the table. Tohma shook his head as if willing himself to speak. "It was a horrible sight, Uesugi-san. I'll never forget it." His hand squeezed Mika's on his shoulder, a bit too forcefully. His gaze was lost on the table and his cheeks were on fire. "If I'd arrived a few minutes sooner I would have shot the bastard myself," he said between clenched teeth. He looked at Mika then. His eyes were glassy and his voice a little high-pitched, but not a tear slid down his face. He was only crying on the inside. "Believe me, Uesugi-san, it was in self-defense."

"I believe you," she said quietly. "Tohma," she addressed him by his name for the first time ever. It was an act that came out naturally to her, for she now felt they shared a bond and an intimacy close to that of husband and wife. If Tohma noticed the change, however, he didn't show it. "What happened afterwards?" She whispered the question.

Tohma sighed and closed his eyes. "I covered up the scene of the crime, Uesugi-san. I took Eiri with me away from there and I ran away from it all. My body seemed to act on his own volition and I did some things I'm not sure were so wise anymore."

"What things?" she asked softly.

Tohma told her everything that he'd done. He told her about the prostitute, the cocaine, the taxi and the hotel.

"But if it was in self-defense, why did you feel the need to cover it up?" she asked. Tohma looked at his fiancé. His body had turned around and he was facing her now. Her hands rested on his lap, reassuringly.

"Because," Tohma's gaze hardened, "I don't want him to go through what happened to him ever again. I've lived in America long enough to know how the system works. I knew if they found out Eiri's feelings they might turn things around and say he'd killed Kitazawa because he was rejected." Mika's eyes went wide, as though she couldn't possibly conceive the idea of anyone not believing her brother.

"They would ask painful questions and try to break him, Uesugi-san. The system protects minors, but he's a foreigner and," Tohma hesitated a moment, "and possibly homosexual." Tohma seemed to choke on the last word, not being used to ever saying it, much less about someone he knew and loved. "They might be lenient but it would be painful for Eiri, nonetheless. He's had enough suffering already. I don't want him to face any more pain. I don't want him to re-live his experience over and over again just so that some prejudiced people in a jury can take pity on him and declare him a victim." Tohma was almost shaking. "I wanted to bring him here and help him forget everything, Uesugi-san." Tohma's eyes were almost pleading now.

Mika nodded, understanding. "I would like for that to happen, too," she said smiling sadly. "Do you think it's possible? Do you think he can forget?" She asked, almost desperately. Tohma didn't know the answer to that question, so he didn't lie. "I don't know, but I hope so. I'm severing my ties in America and I shall hope for this all to blow over and never haunt us in Japan." He took her hands in his and felt a tear fall on the back of his hand. It belonged to Mika.

"We can rebuild a new life for Eiri here, Uesugi-san. We can put this behind us." He wasn't simply trying to sound re-assuring. Tohma was trying to convince her and himself things would really be that way.

"I'm glad you care about my brother so much," she said, pulling one hand away from his to wipe her tears. "You are part of the family already." She looked up at him and smiled. For some strange reason, Tohma felt a new wave of sadness and fear grip his insides again when he heard those words. He cared about the woman sitting next to him, and for the first time he felt he was getting to know her, but he didn't know if he considered her family. He certainly didn't care for her the way he did for Eiri, but he knew that's not how it was supposed to be. He supposed all that would change from now on. One day Mika Uesugi would be his wife. The thought dawned on him as if for the first time ever. He didn't understand why but now, more than a moment ago, he felt himself like crying.

"I'm really grateful for all that you have done so far for us, but you shouldn't carry the weight of all of this on your own anymore. You have been too kind already. We are not a family yet, but soon we will be. In the meant time, Eiri is my little brother and he's my responsibility only, not yours." It was the truth, and the way things worked in Japan, especially between arranged marriages. But this was no common arranged marriage. And this was no common relationship between brothers in law. Tohma felt dismay. A pit seemed to open up under his feet again and once more he was falling through the dark void. This time, however, there was nobody to ground him.

"I'm eternally grateful to you, but this is not your burden to bear anymore. I shall take Eiri to Kyoto with me and we'll keep in touch. You can come visit us there and I'll keep you updated of his situation. Do you have someone with whom to stay in Tokyo? Are you going to be okay on your own here?"

Tohma didn't hear the rest of what Mika said. Her voice sounded far away. The room seemed to tilt around him. He was feeling dizzy again. A cool hand on his forehead made him realize just how hot he was.

"Tohma, can you hear me? Are you feeling okay?" Tohma looked at Mika. She still sounded far away, but he could see she was right in front of him. Her other hand was stilling him. He had stumbled to the side and almost knocked the tea over.

"I think you have a fever," she said. "You are burning up."

A flash of white blinding light came through the windows and bounced off every wall in the room. The air after the jolt of lightning felt electric with charge, making Tohma's skin fill up with goose bumps. "Kyoto…" Tohma's eyes drifted over his lap. There were little drops of water there, mottling his jeans. He licked his lips and tasted salt. He realized he didn't know when the tears had broken loose. Not even a split second passed before a deep roar of thunder scratched the sky with an agonizingly long rumble. The storm, it seemed, was right over head.

To be continued