The Sun Scratched in the Stars

A Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS fanfic

Summary: A boy on the run from a dangerous home situation falls asleep at a dojo in the countryside. Discovered and taken in by the owners, he grows to understand what love – and loss of that love – truly means, with the help of a rambunctious, fiery-spirited boy close to his age.

Chapter 20

Homura Residence, Shirakawa

Ryoko put the clay cup of green tea to her chapped lips, some of the liquid dribbling down the side of her mouth. Tamiko sat across the low table, little Benji strapped around her front, his chubby little arms and hands grabbing at thin air, cooing as he did so. Ryoko smiled, putting a hand to her stomach.

"Tami-chan, I appreciate this," Ryoko said, setting the cup on the low table and wiping her bottom lip with a bright red cloth napkin. "Everything is such a mess right now."

Tamiko smiled, stroking Benji's thin dark blue hair. "Little Takeru will be fine. Your parents are handling it, aren't they? You have enough to deal with as it is."

"I know, I know," Ryoko sighed. "But for Takeru to be sick for this long, for Mom and Dad to say I still can't see him—it's like he's back in the hospital. It's got to be hard on him. I just want to be there for him, you know?"

"Of course," Tamiko said. "No mother wants to see or hear her baby is upset or in pain. I've been that way when Kiku got sick that one time. Benji being sick would devastate me." Tamiko bounced Benji, who squealed, his small eyes crinkled.

Ryoko smiled. "Benji's getting big, isn't he?"

"Sure is." Tamiko adjusted her grip. "I have to use more muscle to lift him."

Laughing, Ryoko said, "At least he's not kicking you in the face."

"True," Tamiko laughed as well. "He's not much of a squirmer, but who knows even several months from now? Kiku and Takeru both grew up before we knew it, already so different from when they were babies."

Ryoko rubbed her stomach. It was true. In a blink of an eye, Takeru was no longer the helpless baby who couldn't sleep without her in the room, scared by the slightest sound, even from within the house, who was so shy, he couldn't even look at her parents in the eyes. Though, to Takeru's credit, Dad could be frightening to people who didn't know him.

But Takeru, even with everything he's gone through, surgery after surgery, procedure after procedure, medicine after medicine, was so much livelier, more outgoing, more independent-minded than before. It gets him in so much trouble with Hito and his parents, but Ryoko couldn't be prouder of him, of how far he's come.

"It's almost like Takeru's a completely different person now," Ryoko said. "I wonder . . . if this baby will be anything like him."

"Two Takerus in the Homura household? I'm sure Hisahito would enjoy that a lot," Tamiko said, a sly expression on her face.

"He better. He wanted kids too," Ryoko said, more abruptly than intended. Tamiko's face changed immediately. Ryoko prayed to whatever force was out there that she wouldn't inquire, but when Tamiko said nothing further, Ryoko exhaled a silent sigh. The last thing she needed was anyone else—yes, even her longtime friend Tamiko—prying into their household affairs.

Ryoko closed her eyes as she listened to the humming of the neighbors' voices next door, the screeching of the boisterous school children on their way to the one school townhouse in the center of the village—the same one Takeru and Kiku would be attending in a few short months. And in a few short years, this baby resting inside her will be on their way to that same school.

Ryoko smiled. "I still can't believe it—that I'm pregnant again. It doesn't even seem that long ago the doctor said I was pregnant with Takeru."

"Yes, yes. To which you replied, 'No way in hell am I pregnant, you quack doctor!' and proceeded to nearly slug him. Even Hisahito had problems holding you back." Tamiko nodded, Ryoko's face warming as she recalled that incident.

"I was so used to him saying for years I wasn't!" Ryoko said. "But then he just says, 'Surprise, you're pregnant.' You saying you'd believe him on the spot?"

"Maybe not, but I wouldn't try beating him up either," Tamiko said. "Your temper is something else."

Ryoko sighed. "Yeah, yeah, my in-laws say the exact same thing. At least I didn't do that when I found out I was pregnant again. I deserve some credit."

Tamiko laughed as she undid the harness, holding and rocking Benji as he slept, not a care in the world. Ryoko looked on, an ache blooming in her heart. Tamiko smiled, and the ache disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I'm happy for you, Ryoko," Tamiko said. "You've tried for years, and now you'll have two little ones."

Ryoko slowly rubbed her stomach, feeling a churn, as though the baby were somersaulting. She smiled. "Well . . . hopefully, three soon, with Ryoken."

"Ryoko . . . you're seriously considering adopting him? That's an awfully long process too, you know."

"But it'd be worth it. I can't . . ." Ryoko bit her bottom lip, "I can't let Ryoken go back to where he was before. Hito and the in-laws say otherwise, but I just know. I just know Ryoken's not safe if he goes back. And the foster care system is so corrupt, so broken. I can't put him through that."

"But what if people are looking for him, Ryoko?" Tamiko asked. "Legally, he belongs with them."

Hito . . . Hito had said the same thing.

"To hell with what's legal!" Ryoko slammed a hand on the table. "A child's wellbeing is more important than the fucking law. Ryoken's staying with us, no matter what." When Ryoko looked up, Tamiko's eyes were wide, holding Benji closer to her. Oh, whoops. " . . . I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

But Tamiko closed her eyes and waved a hand. "How long have we known each other? It's fine. You haven't . . . talked like that in a while, that's all."

Ryoko's stomach dropped—the part of it that didn't belong to the baby inside her. Things were tense at the house, with prepping for the baby, with Takeru's illness, with him needing to take that entrance exam and Hito constantly harping on that, with that date fast approaching—it was too much. Everything was too much these days.

"Still . . ." Ryoko said.

That didn't mean she had to take it out on Tamiko.

But Tamiko's eyes only stayed soft, attentive. Ryoko didn't know what Tamiko looked like when she was angry, and Ryoko was glad she wouldn't have to find out.

"It's okay," Tamiko said. "I know you're juggling a lot right now."

"If you only knew," Ryoko said, laying her head on the table.

"But back to the baby. Do you know yet if Takeru's getting a baby brother or a baby sister?"

"Next doctor visit in a couple of days, we'll know," Ryoko said, smiling. "Hopefully, Takeru feels well enough so we can take him to find out too."

Tamiko raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't even know you're pregnant though, right? You only told Ryoken?"

"Well . . . yeah, he doesn't know . . ."

"I don't get it," Tamiko sighed. "I couldn't wait to tell Kiku she was going to be an older sister, even though I didn't know the sex of the baby yet." She laughed. "Even though Kiku then said she'd rather have a puppy than a baby human."

"Really?" That was hard to believe. "But you said she's always playing with him and taking care of him, right?"

"Right." Tamiko smiled. "They're almost inseparable now. Kiku's accepted her big sisterness very well."

Ryoko sighed, staring at her empty cup. "I . . . Well. I don't know, Tamiko. So far, the only other person his age Takeru gets along with is Kiku. He was always fighting with the other kids at the playground. That's why Hito says he can't go anymore. So what if . . . ?" Ryoko looked at her stomach, not able to finish her sentence, the night she made that choice to separate Takeru and Ryoken in her mind like a movie.

"There you go worrying again," Tamiko said. "Takeru will be a great older brother. I know it."

"How can you be so sure?"

Tamiko stared at Benji, asleep still, his small hands curled up in fists. "Takeru got to hold Benji last time he was at our house. Five years old, and he already knows how to properly hold a baby. My ten-year-old nephews can't even hold him right. And Benji loves him."

At the sound of his name, Benji's eyes shot open, eyes wide as he stared at Tamiko. He made a cooing sound.

"Is that so . . . ?" Ryoko's heart warmed, imagining her baby boy holding another baby. Adorable. "I have to see this for myself."

"Next playdate, for sure," Tamiko agreed. She glanced at her phone that flashed the time and a message from her husband. She frowned. "Ugh, I have to get going now. My husband needs me."

Ryoko sighed deeply. Normally, she didn't mind Tamiko leaving . . . at least, not so much. They weren't kids anymore, and it's not that they were far apart. The Kamishirakawas were only a few houses down.

But Tamiko visiting was a good distraction from how lonely the house felt without Takeru, especially with him being ill. Yes, of course, Hito was still in the house too, his parents across the courtyard. Lately, though, Hito stayed longer and longer at work, well after the sun sets, always coming home in a horrible mood. Ever since that spat-out between him and her father, he doesn't want to speak with anyone, not even his parents. When he does speak, he's always yelling about something. His own parents didn't even stand up to him, so Ryoko endured his blazing wrath.

While it wasn't physical, Ryoko didn't know how much more she could take.

Ryoko, however, only mustered enough energy to smile, thanking Tamiko again for the visit and the fresh-caught salmon her husband had prepared the night before. She moved to be on her feet, but Tamiko said there was no need—she can walk herself out. And that's exactly what she did. And the house was an eerie silence again . . . a silence cut short by a phone ringing.

Ryoko hastened to her feet, but the ringing stopped as soon as it started. A wrong number? She strode towards the hallway anyway, her heart pounding. Instead of just seeing the black telephone by itself on the wobbly wooden table, Hito was there, phone to his ears, his shoulders stiff, eyes sharpened. She swallowed. When did he get home?

Cautiously, Ryoko walked towards him. Was he in a good mood? Bad? Indifferent? Who was on the phone? Then, Hito clicked his tongue as he ripped the phone away from his ear. She heard a loud voice coming from the phone. Oh god, Dad and Hito were at it again.

Ryoko walked faster until she was next to her husband. Before storming off in a huff, he merely glanced at her before thrusting the dark black phone in Ryoko's chest. Ryoko massaged the middle of her chest, wincing. Hito didn't seem to be in a good mood today either.

That didn't matter. Maybe, just maybe, even though Dad and Hito were arguing, Dad would say Takeru's well enough to come home. If he wasn't . . . Ryoko bit her bottom lip. No. No, she wouldn't accept that other possibility.

"Dad? Dad, it's me, Ryoko."

Izayoi-Hogan Residence, Neo Domino

Crow slammed the phone, exhaling slowly, Takeru's violent coughing echoing, bouncing off the walls.

Well, that went to shit.

Not that Crow expected Ryoko to take the "welllll, Takeru's well enough that he's not getting worse, but he sure ain't getting better" news well, but damn, the way Ryoko reacted, one would've thought Crow told Ryoko that Takeru was in the intensive care unit at the hospital, hooked up to all the machines imaginable, hanging on for dear life. Of course, when it comes to her kid, the one she desperately kept trying to conceive for years, anything less than healthy was going to make her absolutely, fantastically lose it.

But the sound of Ryoko's cry just then, her holding on enough to converse normally, but the high-pitchiness in her voice—something was very wrong.

Crow thought of what Takeru had said before—how the Homuras were ganging up on Ryoko, how that damn asshole was yelling at her. Her! His wife! It didn't matter how strong of a person one was. Being in that situation all the time will take a toll, it will kill. Crow had heard it repeatedly when he and Aki fostered. It started with microaggression. Then the parents yelling at each other. Or if it was a rare single parent situation, the parent taking it out on the child. Then it would get physical. Then it would get out of hand very quickly.

To the very little credit that he has, if Hisahito was upset, he wasn't taking it out on Takeru.

Crow grimaced. At least, not yet.

"Crow?"

"Oh, Aki,"

Aki looked at him, then at the phone. "Another upsetting conversation with Hisahito?"

"And Ryoko," Crow sighed. "She's just not taking Takeru's illness well."

Aki crossed her arms. "Remind me who it was who would scream 'Take her to the doctor! Take her to the doctor!' when Ryoko had the slightest cough as a baby again? Of course she's upset."

"Okay," Crow said, "but something is going on too. She seems more upset than she'd normally be."

"And you said the same thing about me when I was pregnant with her," Aki said, looking all the more unimpressed. "She's pregnant, Crow. What are you getting at?"

That's right . . . Crow hadn't told her what Takeru had said. The little firecracker had said not to tell Ryoko he knew what was going on. He never said anything about not telling anyone else. The way Aki tried to be nice to that asshole despite the man he is, even though it's clear as day she doesn't like him, despite everything that's been said—she needed to know.

So Crow told her what Takeru had said, about how unsafe he felt back with the Homuras or how he'd noticed Ryoko being the brunt of yelling and screaming, particularly from her loving husband. Aki listened, her eyes widening.

When Crow had finished speaking, Aki sighed deeply, staring at the phone next to him.

"Takeru can let his emotions get the best of him, but . . . he wouldn't lie for attention," Aki said. "Still. Still, I find it hard to believe. Especially when Ryoko was so determined to marry him."

Crow laughed, but it was hollow. "'I don't care what you say or what you think of him. We're getting married.' Ryoko wouldn't listen at all," he said. "As much as we don't like him, we—I don't want to think Ryoko made a terrible mistake . . . but . . . we can't afford to stay out of this."

Without a word, Aki walked to one of the upper wood cabinets, which hid her doctor tools, compresses, and Takeru's medicine. She stared at the contents for a long while. Then she grabbed two of the compresses and some of Takeru's medicine.

"Crow."

Crow's eyebrow shot up.

"What you told me . . . what Takeru is going through now . . . it's similar to that time, isn't it?"

"That time?"

Aki slammed the door shut. "When Ryoko had that terrible fever just shy of her seventh birthday. Something she could usually overcome in a matter of days, it took two months to get over."

Crow hit his head against the thick wall. Oh damn, he had forgotten. After all he and Aki did so Ryoko didn't have to repeat that year in school—the many, many teacher conferences, the fights that almost turned physical with the principal, the doctor visits that did more harm than good for Ryoko, the hospital visits, waiting for hours on end for Ryoko's medicine at the pharmacy, hearing Aki crying those nights during that unusually cold August—how could he have possibly forgotten all that?

But . . . it was strange for Aki to bring that up.

"I had forgotten, but . . . other than how long this is all taking, I can't see how it's the same."

Aki sighed. "You've forgotten more than I thought. Ryoko told us right before her crying spells started, before she got sick, she was tired of school, tired of the boys picking on her and pulling her hair. The unbelievable stress she had at six years old made her sick."

Crow's eyes widened. "And she would make progress, but when we told her she was getting better, she'd go back to where she was before . . ."

Aki nodded, putting the towels over her shoulders. "I saw it all the time as a doctor. Most people would want to feel better when they're sick. But if feeling better means going back to those circumstances they'd rather avoid, they don't want to feel better. The physical pain feels better than the emotional pain."

Crow let another laugh escape. "So, Takeru's choosing not to get better because he doesn't want to go back to that jerk and his folks? Is that it?"

Aki sighed, probably disappointed with his very on-point descriptions of the man Ryoko married.

"Apart from when he was a baby and apart from this last hospital visit, Takeru might take longer to get better than someone else with a healthier immune system At least he gets better relatively quickly. But," Aki turned toward the hallway, "for him to not get any better after five days—that has to be why\."

Another bout of coughing echoed through the hallway, then a "Baa-baa! Baa-baa, weird stuff is coming out of Takeru's mouth again!" As much as he'd rather Takeru and Ryoken and Ryoko stay with them, it was impossible. Not with the current laws in place. Not when Hisahito was pulling so many strings that it just wouldn't work.

Damn, Crow was getting a headache.

One thing at a time. First thing's first, Takeru had to feel better and go back to Ryoko.

He had an idea.

"I'm heading back there," Aki said. "Think you could prepare lunch while I tend to the patient?"

Crow smiled. "Okay, but let me know when you're done and if he's awake and well enough to have a talk."

Aki's eyes narrowed. "Are you aware of how unlikely that is? Crow, what are you up to?"

Damn. "Woah, woah," Crow waved his hands. "Don't treat me like some bad guy! Just a sagely conversation between an aging man and his grandson. That's all!"

Aki huffed as she walked towards Takeru's current room. "Okay, Crow. Ryoken has to listen in, though. Kiku can stay if she wants, but Ryoken has to be there."

"Ryoken? Why?"

But Aki didn't explain, only a stare that made the room that much colder.

"O-okay, fine, fine! Ryoken will be there," Crow said. Aki gave a small smile before she headed towards Takeru's temporary room. Crow sighed, his life once again spared. But he was still puzzled. Ryoken? Why was it so important that the pretty boy was there?

Well, whatever. Crow laughed. All this thinking was driving him nuts. Closing his eyes, Crow listened for the birds cawing and chirping. Strange—he didn't hear any crows or thrushes. Well, it's getting colder, and it's almost November. They all probably flew down to the warmer parts already.

Oh, to be able to just fly away at the slightest sign of trouble.

Crow laughed at himself. When did he get so soft? So soft to the point of wanting to fly away because of all the Homura nonsense going on? Fatherhood and grandfatherhood must've been taking their toll. Jack would have a cow over how feeble-minded he'd gotten.

There's no way he'd be able to convince Takeru to get better and be with Ryoko if he thought that way.

In surprisingly very little time, Aki returned, motioning to Crow. Crow grabbed his cane, breathing deeply through his nose, and exhaling all the pent-up energy in his lungs as he made his way to Takeru's room.