For Orangeorlemons, with gratitude.

A Romeo and Juliet Story

Chapter 7

It is only now that he is this close that I can see just how far away he is.

I can see the fine hairs on his cheeks but I am no nearer to him than I was on that first day under the moon. It's as if he stands on a pinnacle and I, being below it, cannot see the whole of him. I am only aware of the parts that exceed the edge, the parts that he allows to be visible. Trying to understand him, trying to pin him down, is like trying to catch the wind in a net. Even what I am most sure of seems an illusion at best, and is just as insubstantial. But I want him to be real. I want him so much.

I draw back from his soft sleeping form which is in such opposition to his hardened wakeful one. This physical closeness I know is not an acceptable substitute. I can't delude myself over it. No matter how long or how hard I press my lips to his, nor how hot his fire under my fingertips seems, my fiercest, most violent efforts wouldn't touch his soul. And I… I am at a lost as to what to do. Never have I felt so helpless.

It doesn't matter how long I stare, all I can see is perfection. There's not a single flaw in his veneer. Even when he is sleeping like this, it's impossible to see what is underneath. Whether the innocence I think is there is my own determined imagination or whether it's real doesn't quite hold. I want to believe in him. Will that be enough?

He was dreaming again after so many tolerable nights. The girl was there as if she'd never left. She probably never had. Her hair was stuck to the side of her face with the tears that continued to fall even after all these years.

She was staring at him, the blue-eyed boy who'd been her afternoon playmate. But of course he looked different now. He was taller, bigger, almost a man while she remained her eight year old self.

It was amazing how quickly children could make friends. For her it had been just a few hours spent playing together, although for him it had been half a lifetime.

Her mother was there too, sitting in the armchair as she had liked to do on quiet afternoons. Today, however, she didn't comfort her crying daughter. She only stared at her blankly as if confused; slumped sideways in the seat, blood pouring from the hole in her forehead.

And the girl's tears… what were they for? For her murdered mother, or for the childhood splattered in red gore across a cream carpet. Or perhaps for the boy in front of her who would never be able leave this place.

Did she realise in the final minutes of her short life that he was the one who would be eternally trapped in this moment?

That although he would soon leave her side, she would never again leave his and that that would be her revenge, more complete than she could ever hope?

He turned his gun upon her

and pulled the trigger.

Kaede sat bolt upright with a gasp.

The eerie twilight glow immediately filled his vision and drove the daytime scenery of his dream away. Above him the gaudy sky was streaked with reds and oranges like the last desperate clawing of the recently set sun; blood running down a plane of glass.

The now familiar beach where he'd spent most of the day looked different in the blue-hour light. Less real, somehow. The strange sky gave an odd, crinkled effect to the outline of Akira's figure sitting nearby, looking out towards the dark waters as if he too were part of a melting veracity.

Kaede blinked in confusion.

"I... fell asleep?" he murmured puzzled, causing Akira to look back at him.

"Yeah."

Actually, you passed out.

Kaede's fingers strayed to his lips as he gathered his recollections. How terribly distorted the world suddenly seemed.

He could remember the heat of being touched, held, and kissed so clearly it was as if the warmth was still lingering on his skin, but when he ran his palm over his bare forearm it felt cold to touch. He noticed Akira's distance from him and was aware of it as if it were the distance between victory and defeat. Mere millimetres could turn a basket into a failure, but Akira was far beyond his arm's reach. Kaede ached with the space.

"Why…" he began to ask some question he didn't even know, but he stopped short as the thing that had roused him from his dream a moment ago came to his attention.

Vibrating in his jeans pocket; the silent call of his mobile phone. Groggily he fished it out and blinked at the display, recognising the familiar name there. Seeing those words flashing so insistently at him made his throat constrict uncomfortably.

It was too soon. He wasn't ready to leave this place yet, even though it was dissolving around him faster and faster with each passing moment, as if the vibration of the phone in his hand was shaking the stardust from his eyes. He pressed the green engage button and brought it to his ear,

"Akagi-san?" he murmured.

"Kaede-sama," the voice came through the phone's earpiece.

Kaede could feel Akira's eyes fix on him anxiously. It was a cheerless moment, to remember that Akagi was Kaede's ally but Akira's enemy. Another crack across the spider-web glass. He heard Akira shift and lean closer in order to hear the conversation more clearly, but only succeeding in making the distance between them seem even greater.

"There will be a meeting to discuss the Maki event at eight and your presence is required."

It was a summons, an order; there wasn't even any pretence of it being a request. But still he couldn't help relaxing in relief, as if worse news had been avoided.

"I understand." Even his voice sounded a little relieved.

There was a pause which continued for longer than it had a right to, causing Kaede to prompt;

"Is that all, Akagi-san?"

"Actually…"

Akira noticed the way Kaede immediately tensed, his whole frame becoming stiff in anticipation of whatever might be said next, almost as if preparing himself to receive a blow.

Something about the honestly of such an anxious motion drew him. It was uncharacteristic of Kaede to be so obviously readable, to display his discomfort so clearly, and due to it Akira's attention focussed fully on his companion to such a degree that couldn't fail to see what happened next;

"…there's been a new request for kitsune. If you are free I will meet you to discuss it later this evening."

A shudder, an odd convulsion of muscles as if in reaction to the sight of something foul ran through Kaede's thin frame. It caused Akira to move closer in concern, to look into the face of the boy beside him. Kaede's eyes looked quickly away and refused to meet his own.

After a few non-committal murmurs into the handset, Kaede disengaged the call and glanced down at his watch in some confusion.

"I have to go."

He seemed disorientated, although perhaps that was simply because he had only a few moments ago woken up. Looking down at his own watch Akira noticed it was already seven o'clock. If Kaede was going to make the eight o'clock meeting it was true that he would have to leave now.

But he couldn't just let this strange incongruity go. He'd heard Akagi use the two names Kaede-sama and kitsune separately, almost as if they referred to different people. It was more than enough to rouse Akira's indomitable curiosity. He opened his mouth to form the beginnings of a query, but then he noticed Kaede's posture and paused. His eyes were downcast, his shoulders rounded, his whole body slumped, protectively anxious. It made Akira stare. He'd not seen such obvious discomposure from the boy before.

The Kaede he knew was always strong and always proud. To see him looking so uncharacteristically defeated made the as yet unformed syllables in his mouth dissolve into innocent breaths of silent air, his unspoken questions sounding only in his mind.

"I have to go," Kaede muttered again.

It was probably this redundant repetition of words more than anything that awoke Akira to the fact that something really was wrong. That everything might be about to slip away from him without warning. That their newly grown interest in each other was still as delicate as the dew.

"Wait..." he may even have stretched out a hand towards the figure that was already standing and turning to leave.

What did Akagi mean? What request?

"…Kaede..?"

What is 'kitsune'?

"…Kae…"

His words were in vain. It was as if Kaede wasn't even aware of Akira's presence any longer. His recent stir of self-awareness had receded, sinking back down into the gloom of his subconscious so that the momentarily expressive eyes returned to what they had previously been; empty.

It was as if the timid face of Kaede's soul which Akira had with such patience coaxed up to the windows of his eyes had suddenly darted back into the darkness of the house. Still there no doubt, but no longer visible; hiding away from the world.

Watching him leave reeked of powerlessness. He hated it. He kicked at the sand in his frustration even as the motorbike started up with its signature roar. Hadn't they been getting somewhere? Yes, Kaede was still distant but the gap had been closing.

Just a little more and maybe...

Just a little and perhaps…

...but then this.

Why had Akira lost sight of him yet again? It didn't seem fair.

Alone and despondent he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and looked up at the blackening sky with a long sigh. He had no sure way of knowing when or even if he'd see Kaede again, and there were so many unresolved questions that it was maddening.

A part of him wanted to hurl something at the sea in a rage, but he managed to retain his outward calm.

In the silence a vague memory of Kaede's words came to him.

I read…

And all at once an idea presented itself.

But to himself so secret and so close,

So far from sounding and discovery.

Akira kicked off his shoes and tossed his bag carelessly into a corner of the entrance way. They would be collected and taken to his room by a housemaid later on. He didn't want to waste any time. He intended to go straight to the archives and see if he could find any information on this kitsune that seemed to be something more significant than he'd originally realised.

Not just an innocent nickname for those blue fox eyes but something more ominous entirely.

He began to walk through the large hallway towards the rear stairs where the door to the basement was situated, but was suddenly stopped by a familiar voice calling him from a reception room to his left.

"Akira!"

Very few people called him anything other than 'Sendoh-sama' so the list of possible candidates was narrow.

He turned and saw Hanamichi standing in the doorframe and gesturing irritably at him. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to get back? Your phone is off in case you didn't realise."

"Ah… oh yeah, sorry, I er…" Akira scratched his head, conscious that he'd spent most of the early evening watching Kaede sleeping on the beach and temporarily unable to form an excuse from that image.

"Forget it!" Hanamichi spread his hands in aspiration "Dad's called us for a discussion about the bloody Maki thing. I swear if I hear that damn name one more time I'm gonna head-butt something!"

Akira grinned "that bad huh?" He found it pleasingly ironic that he was in the same situation as Kaede and it lightened his mood a little, as if he'd just rediscovered the breadcrumb trail between them.

"Let's just get to the stupid meeting before its gets any later," Hanamichi grumbled, grabbing his brother by the elbow and practically dragging him away from the archives' doorway towards the large conference rooms in the east wing of the mansion.

Reluctantly Akira allowed himself to be led, a little annoyed that satisfying his curiosity about the kitsune would have to wait.

The two brothers burst into a spacious room occupied by seven people clustered around one end of a long conference table which could comfortably seat a dozen more. The table was covered with a huge number of papers and files apparently pertaining to the discussion. Their father, Taoka, sat at the head of the group, leaning forward on his elbows, clearly having just had his speech interrupted by the entrance of his two sons. He didn't look too impressed about it.

Six close allies flanked him. There was Shinobu Koshino, Ryoji Ikegami and Hideo Fukuda as well as the huge hulking figure of Uozumi. These four men all stood and bowed from the waist as Akira and Hanamichi entered. Akira responded with a dip of his head.

Of the final two individuals, the person sitting furthest away and frantically scribbling down minutes was the young Hikoichi Aida, Akira's first cousin and junior. The person occupying the position at Taoka's immediate left was Hikoichi's father, Masaya Aida.

Masaya was the overseer of the archives and head of the intelligence team, and easily Taoka's most trusted ally, not to mention his brother in law. He had a face which showed that his youth was far behind him. There were soft greying streaks in his hair and wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled, which was often.

He'd been a prominent figure in Akira's childhood and was something of a favourite uncle as a result. Time had revealed him more in love with his books than with confrontation so the last decade and a half had been spent moderately in an office, reading and calculating and spinning the webs that enabled the Sendohs to compete with the Rukawas on an even field.

Unlike the others in the room he didn't stand up to bow but simply smiled warmly at his two nephews as they entered, greeting them with a friendly gesture of his arm. He made a stark contrast to the glowering anger of their father sitting heavily in his seat right beside him.

Akira took his seat in the vacant chair reserved for him directly at his father's right while Hanamichi sat himself further down the table as dictated by protocol.

"As I was just saying," Taoka enunciated clearly, glaring at the latecomers as he did so, "not knowing who Anzai will choose as his two delegates puts us at a real disadvantage."

Koshino was busy surveying the mountain of papers on the table disheartedly.

"So we should research every possible person?" he queried as he picked up the nearest file which displayed the name Myagi Ryota. "It looks like Aida-san has brought half the archive up with him."

Sorting through the vast quantity of documentation seemed an impossible task.

"But since the Rukawa house has two sons," Hikoichi piped up from further down the table "can't we assume that Anzai would choose them as his delegates just we have chosen Sendoh-sama and Hanamichi-sama?"

The query seemed entirely reasonable to Akira, however it was met by an oddly stretched silence as all eyes turned to Hikoichi. Taoka stared at the young boy for a long moment as if trying to determine whether he was being serious or not before bursting into unexpected laughter. Many of the other faces around the table made faint echoes of him by smiling coolly. Akira raised his eyebrows at the strange reaction.

Apparently unable to control his amusement Taoka waved a hand at Masaya, indicating that he should explain. With a patient smile Masaya immediately leant forwards on the table in indication that he would speak.

"You are correct Hikoichi, the Rukawa house had two sons." He reached into the pile of files and pulled two towards him. One red file was scrawled with the name "Hisashi Rukawa" and the other blue one read "Kaede Rukawa" with "(Kitsune)" following in brackets. Akira only had a moment to register Masaya's use of the past tense before the man continued to speak.

"However the younger boy, the so-called kitsune, was disinherited several years ago."

Akira saw Hikoichi gape and mentally did the same.

"Why?" Akira asked, a little too quickly.

"Ah… it's complicated. But basically he was convicted of a pretty horrific double murder. A child and her mother."

Akira's eyes could not have widened further. "Did he do it?" he blurted out, and knew immediately that his curiosity had overstepped some invisible boundary when all eyes turned him. Did he do it? was of course not the obvious question to ask.

"Of course he did Akira, don't ask stupid questions," his father said irritably.

"But what does it mean…?" Hanamichi asked with curiosity "…to be disinherited? Isn't that like being exiled or something?"

"Oh no, nothing like that. Just think of him as no longer being a true member of the family. He's lost most of his influence, respect, as well as any claim to main seat of the house. Really, in terms of the hierarchy, he's little more than a dog."

Hanamichi sent Akira a brow-raised glance down the table, but Akira avoided meeting his eye.

Masaya continued, "The judge ruled that it was a random killing and pronounced him mentally unstable. Rumours about it circulated for months. With his reputation so inexorably ruined Anzai was left with little choice. A boy that twisted might serve as a useful tool, but can hardly be acknowledged as second to the line. This is a business after all."

Akira stared at the mahogany table, but didn't see it at all. All he could see was Kaede under the midnight moon by the weeping willow, utterly beautiful and heartbreakingly alone. It couldn't be true. It had to be a mistake. How could anyone confuse that exquisite, unobtrusive boy with some kind of unstable murderer?

No, it wasn't possible. There was definitely something wrong here. Something Masaya wasn't telling them.

He must have been innocent, falsely imprisoned, or else Masaya and Taoka had confused the facts. For surely, if it were true, then the moon would have had no business in adoring him like that. Surely she would have winked her great eye and cast him into darkness.

Further along the table Hanamichi's lips were pursed, "Then… he is… irrelevant?"

Taoka smirked, "Let's put it this way…" he reached out to the two files Masaya had pulled out and with a neat flick of his wrist he sent the blue one bearing Kaede's name spinning away down the entire length of the table "…one thing we can be sure of regarding Anzai's choice of delegates is that he will not be choosing that trash."

Akira wanted to wince with every inch of the file's trajectory. The whole thing was made that much worse by the knowledge that it was precisely that file which Akira had been intending to find only minutes earlier, and that the words and pictures it contained he would have given worlds to peruse. It was hard enough to even manage to restrain himself from reaching out to catch it as it passed him by. There was nothing to stop its ignoble flop off the far end where all its leaves, so valuable to Akira, scattered like so much waste paper over the carpet.

A terrible feeling of guilt passed over him. Didn't he owe Kaede more than this? Ought he not defend him somehow? It was true that he didn't know exactly what may have happened in the past, but he seized with the conviction that not a single person at this table knew Kaede as well as he did. How could he be wrong about this? He couldn't possibly be so badly mistaken. He trusted Kaede.

For the first time he became aware of the profound shift within himself. For the time it took for the file to make its shameful journey down the table under the sneering stares of everyone present he was not among friends but among enemies. They looked down on Kaede as if he were nothing, not even worth their attention, and Akira wasn't one of them. Not anymore. Perhaps not ever again. It seemed to him at that moment that Kaede had more strength, more dignity and more competence than the lot of them together. There was nothing like adversity to set your winding road dead straight.

A moment's silence followed while everyone considered the discarded file as if it were a gruesome carcass. Then Koshino once again began to speak, bringing their attentions back around to business; "In that case, what are the chances of Anzai choosing Hisashi as one of his delegates?"

"Very high…" Masaya started to reply, but Akira was no longer listening.

This is betrayal… he realised with sudden clarity, mad only in the sense that he hadn't realised it before. Not so much the acts of meeting Kaede, talking to him or being with him; those things were innocent enough. But instead where those things would lead him – to care for him, to wish to defend him, ultimately to trust him even above his own family – that was where treachery lay.

Was he already a traitor or only on a path to becoming one? Did such a distinction matter? Could it be avoided? Do I even want to avoid it?

Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.

Once the meeting had ended, Akira jogged to catch up with his uncle who was making his way back to the basement archives to return the files he had brought up with him. A couple of the house servants were assisting him by carrying boxes containing the papers which had previously been scattered over the table.

"Uncle!"

The older man turned and smiled at his approach.

"Sendoh-sama!"

Akira immediately winced at the formality of the name, coming to a stop beside him.

"How many times have I asked you not to call me that?" he complained, reminding himself of an indignant child before his older relative.

"Ahh…" Masaya gave a good-natured chuckle "…but your father is so strict about these things."

Akira sighed and spoke his position directly, "Uncle, I want to know more about Rukawa Kaede."

Masaya's eyebrows disappeared into his fringe with surprise at the unusual request. "The kitsune?"

When Akira gave a short nod of confirmation, Masaya continued, "But why would he interest you?"

"It seems to me…" Akira picked over his words with utmost delicacy, not wishing to repeat his earlier mistake of over-enthusiasm "…that the Rukawa house has kept him in shadows over the past few years. I didn't even know his name until recently. If they have something to hide, isn't it natural that I should want to know about it?"

Masaya smiled "In shadows you say? That's a surprisingly apt way to put it," he seemed amused by Akira's choice of words, "you'd better come in."

He turned and led the way down the stairs and into the basement. He instructed the servants to put the boxes of files into his office so he could sort them himself later on.

The said office was annexed to the main section of the basement which was devoted to the vast quantities of documentation which made up the Sendoh archives. It was almost a perfect mirror to the library of the Rukawa house, although Akira was unaware of such a parallel. While the metal cabinets gave the main room a cold, surgical feel, Masaya's small office was comfortably furnished with welcoming colours and soft furnishings, although a little claustrophobic due to the lack of windows and natural light.

Upon entering the room the older man proceeded to prepare two cups of tea for himself and Akira using the modest kettle set on a side cabinet. Once finished he sat back in his office chair, opposite Akira on the other side of the desk, took a delicate slip of the scalding liquid and looked thoughtful.

"The kitsune you said?"

Akira gave half a nod, "Yes… Rukawa Kaede".

"Well… what do you want to know?"

Everything, he thought. "What is the significance of the name kitsune?" he asked aloud.

The name was beginning to seriously trouble him. He didn't understand why everyone insisted on using it. Thinking back to the meeting he realised that he hadn't once heard anyone refer to the blue-eyed boy by his given name.

Masaya gave a sad smile. "Your father probably would not approve of me discussing this with you but..." he gave a sigh, "...you are the next head of this house. And you're old enough now to know."

Akira stared at him blankly.

Masaya sat back. "Alright, well, it will make more sense if I start from the beginning."

At Akira's nod, he set his cup down and began.

"Let me tell you a bit about the Rukawa boys. When they were both young, it was found that the younger son had a natural skill in gunmanship. In the light of this, Anzai became fixated on what he thought was an excellent idea for the future of his house. He planned to have each son become specialised in order to create an invincible front, a kind of double-team as it were.

"For Hisashi, who is of course his heir, he envisioned the perfect businessman; sharp, intelligent, moderated, and he has spared no expense to educate him. As Hisashi's counterweight and support he decided to make use of his younger son's natural abilities and mould him into a dangerous fighter. I won't deny that it was an elegant concept. Together the two brothers ought to have been invincible."

Akira thought about the impression he had of the older Rukawa son derived from all the stories Hanamichi had told him.

"But… that doesn't sound much like Hisashi," he commented slowly.

Masaya nodded briefly.

"You're correct of course. Anzai completely failed to fulfil his vision. It very soon became obvious that Hisashi was the more aggressive and confrontational of the two, and the younger one the quieter and less impulsive one. In short, Anzai had their personalities completely backwards.

"But by the time the mistake was obvious, he'd already pushed the younger one so far against his natural grain that he was no longer… well... normal. If you ever meet him you'll find he is a very peculiar young man. Empty, almost as if he's not all there, totally emotionless. I wouldn't go so far as to call him mad, but he certainly is very strange."

With a jolt Akira realised that he could recognise this description of Kaede. He remembered how the boy had acted as he was leaving the beach, right after receiving Akagi's phone call. He had been so absent, almost robotic, as if he were moving without thought or reason in actions that were programmed and automatic.

At the time Akira had thought that such behaviour was exceptional, but Masaya seemed to be implying that it was his usual conduct.

I thought I hadn't touched his soul but I…

Was I mistaken?

Was I closer than I could possibly have realised?

"You should be extremely cautious of him," Masaya said gravely. "Hisashi may be the more aggressive of the two, but the kitsune is far, far more dangerous. He is a hardened killer. He's worked as an assassin for many years now. Even your father's attempt to get rid of him didn't totally work."

Wait, what?

"What do you mean, 'assassin'?" Akira demanded. "And what about my father? What did he do?"

His confusion must have been visible on his face because Masaya's eyes turned sympathetic.

"Kitsune is the alias the boy trades under," he elaborated. "He is probably one of the most highly paid assassins in Asia. Our last approximation estimated that he makes up about one fifth of the Rukawa house's entire turnover. That's a fairly monstrous figure, as I'm sure you can appreciate. He's been commissioned by most of the larger syndicates at some point or other, including Maki and the Sawakitas…"

Akira stared at him.

It was obvious from his countenance that Masaya believed what he was saying to be fact. His eyes revealed no trickery, no falsehoods, perfect honestly.

But… an assassin? It made more sense than a deranged murderer, but not by much.

"But the girl? What about the girl he killed? You said that was a random killing."

Masaya gave a short, humourless chuckle. "Oh no, I only said that the judge deemed it so."He continued. "The boy was caught and he took the fall. Protected his house. Anzai paid huge bribes resulting in his early release two years later. The amount of money that must have changed hands gives us some indication as to how valuable the kitsune is..."

"When?" Akira interrupted him suddenly, his voice oddly hollow.

"Hmmm?" Masaya looked quizzically at his unhappy nephew, not understanding the question.

"You said he was released. He is not in prison now so, when was this?"

"Oh…" the older man appeared to think for a moment, "…it would be about six years ago now."

Six years ago…

"But then, at the time he must have been…" Akira stopped, unable to continue with the realisation that had just struck him, but Masaya seemed to understand.

"Right. He was ten years old."

Akira could only stare at him.

No way.

What kind of demented childhood would admit a ten year old boy to commit acts of murder?

Kaede… what the hell did they do to you?

He bit his lip furiously. "Then tell me, what did my father have to do with all this?"

Masaya hesitated.

"Tell me," Akira insisted.

"The girl. The woman that was killed. That was… he was caught when…" Masaya chewed over his words. "Well, in short, it was a set up," he admitted finally. "It was your father's commission. He needed someone punished, and he arranged to trap the kitsune at the same time."

"You're saying that it's because of my father that he killed that girl, went to prison, and now has been disinherited?"

Masaya gave a hopeless shrug.

Akira's face became a scowl. "And you didn't tell me about this because…?"

"Your father didn't want you to know until you were older." Masaya peered at his nephew. "It's just business, Akira. A sad story, for sure. But it is what it is. Besides, it shouldn't make any difference to you. You don't have any reason to have contact with the kitsune. Not yet, anyway."

Akira sucked in his breath.

Is it possible that I am nothing more than his target? Has everything up until now been some kind of elaborate trap? Is he trying to use me to get to my father?

He has every reason to hate me. To hate my family.

Damnit, I…

Perhaps seeing the clench in Akira's jaw, Masaya frowned and moved an arm to draw his attention.

"Akira, you shouldn't waste pity on that boy. Whatever the circumstances of his past, it doesn't change or excuse what he has become. He is a killer, and a dangerous one at that."

Akira's hands curled into fists of anger at the injustice of it all.

They called him trash he remembered, suddenly incensed. They all laughed at him when they knew, they knew what had happened. That he had been nothing more than a child. That his own family broke him and threw him away before he was even old enough to make a decision for himself.

He forced himself to appear calm.

"Uncle, are you sure Kaede still works as an assassin?"

"Oh yes. Anzai wouldn't have paid his way out of Kanto if he didn't think it would be profitable for him."

But…

I trust you, Kaede Rukawa.

"Uncle…" Akira almost stammered over the word in his indignation, wanting to say so many things to counter the unkind insinuations;

Do you know how many opportunities he has had to kill me but taken none?

Do you know he saved my life, and even took punishment on my behalf?

Do you know his whole body trembles just at the sound of that damn name kitsune?

Do you realise that just below his exterior there is a soul, tenderness, warmth, and humanity just as there is in any one of us?

I am not wrong.

No matter what you say or what may have happened in the past I know I am not wrong about him.

In the end the words remained unspoken on his lips; there was just no way for them to say them out loud. When he left Masaya's office he was still dragged down by them so that even lifting his feet took effort. He chewed those thoughts up resolutely; shedding them the walls and air around him, until he left with only a single realisation;

Kaede… I was so incredibly lucky to meet you before I met your reputation.

~tbc

Updated Version: Dec 2018

So I recently thought that the song "Map of the Problematique" by Muse is definitely Akira's theme tune for this fic.

"Bitter Glass" by Feeder could (maybe) be Kaede's?

"Who wants to live forever" by Queen? Hahahaha, now wouldn't that just be depressing…? (Beautiful song though!)

The characters "Shinobu Koshino" "Masaya Aida" and "Hideo Fukuda" are the father's of the more familiar "Hikoichi Aida", "Hiroaki Koshino" and "Kicchou Fukuda". The father's names are actually taken from the names of the voice actors for those characters in the anime series.

Please leave a review if just to say "ah… Kitsune-kun~", "oh…. Kaede-kun~" or "wah…. dissociative identity disorder~".