A Romeo and Juliet Story

Chapter 11

October 3rd 5:15am

Sendoh Akira is my lover. That was what he had said.

There was the knife. His own knife. And his arm twisted behind his back. Why did you miss? He struggled against Tetsuo's weight. Answer me, you son of a bitch! Hisashi aimed a vicious kick into his face and he gasped on a throatful of dirt.

The blade eased inwards. Slowly. Slowly until it rested against bone. Stinging pain so sharp, so intense and bright that he struggled to bear it. Again he asked, Why did you miss?

Because Sendoh Akira is my lover. The thought sounded like thunder.

"Why did you miss?"

"Because Sendoh Akira is my lover."

Right into Hisashi's horrified ear.

Kaede rolled over and found himself looking at the grey ceiling of his own bedroom. The night was breaking into unconnected shadows as the sun crept slowly up the horizon. The dream remained bright and clear in his head. Except it wasn't a dream. It was a memory. It had happened.

He thought he'd had it all decided. He knew what he was doing. Every inch of his logic, his judgement, even his gut told him that the plan would work. Then why… why did it return as nightmares? Why was his subconscious betraying him like this?

Never having been one to be swayed by the whims of the subliminal he rolled over in irritation and returned to sleep, one eyebrow ticked in annoyance at the inconvenience of his fear.

7:20am

In another bedroom in another part of the mansion, Kogure opened his eyes to the morning sun with a powerful sense of foreboding. The rays were tossed like discarded clothes over the bed sheets. Ahead he could see the lines and indentations of skin and muscle and bone that formed the barrier of Hisashi's chest; the barrier between flesh and soul. He twisted in the warm, constricting arms about him.

What was this feeling?

He felt dizzy with anticipation, a horrible gnawing in his lungs, the feeling of the vicious world grinding onwards without pause or mercy. Silently he clung to Hisashi and trembled.

Bitterly begin this fearful date.

11:13am

Kaede entered the conference room silence as usual, intending to be as unobtrusive as possible. He was late, but the meeting didn't seem to have started yet. He was forced to stop short however when he noticed that his usual seat was missing. Akagi and Ayako were sitting shoulder to shoulder as if they always had, as if Kaede had never sat between them before. He looked at them, and they kept their eyes uncomfortably on the table.

He hesitated in spite of himself, but this wasn't really an unexpected development. This was the third meeting now following the Maki fiasco and it was only a wonder that it hadn't happened sooner.

He recovered himself, irritated that so much attention was being forced his way when he hadn't wanted to be noticed, and silently looked towards his father. He knew both Anzai and Hisashi were angry that he had failed to kill the two Sendohs. And he knew he was on borrowed time since he no longer had the level of skill that the house had come to rely on. But he was still surprised when Anzai gravely indicated the chair at the furthest end of the table for his use. The lowest chair.

Kaede froze.

The symbolism of such a demotion was obvious. It was as if Anzai had demanded he sit on the floor like a dog.

And as if to make everything worse: there was Hisashi in his prominent seat directly at Anzai's right smirking infuriatingly. Kaede's pride twisted torturously.

Suppressing his anger, forcing it away, Kaede took a breath and gathered what remained of his self-respect around him like a shield against the stares. The silence stretched thin like wire as all eyes scratched his skin. They were all waiting to see how he would react. Perhaps they were hoping he would lose his cool, hoping that they would finally be allowed to see inside him – his pride and his pain.

Well, they would be disappointed.

Kaede pursed his lips slightly and then turned as if he wasn't aware of the implications of the new seating arrangement and walked with every appearance of dignity down to the end of the table. Each footstep sounded like a drumbeat in the silence. Every pair of eyes watched him in morbid curiosity, the same kind of curiosity as the braying crowd pressed close around the scaffold waiting to watch a hanging. Scrutinising him closely for any suggestion of a crack in his façade. Sick.

Taking his place in the lowest seat he put both his hands on the mahogany table top where everyone could see them clearly – the left one whole, the right hopelessly maimed – and then glared silently at all of them as if daring someone to make a comment. No one did.

He'd always known that he'd been living on borrowed time. First he'd lost his name, and now he was no longer even useful- just another broken tool – he shouldn't be surprised. He'd always been waiting for this moment. Truthfully he'd had years to prepare himself for it, but it didn't make it any easier to bear the humiliation.

Have they already forgotten what I am capable of? He pondered furiously. Is their fear so easily dispelled? Fools to think all my worth could be counted on two fingers.

Anzai started the meeting with a rustle of papers.

"Today" he announced "is the handover day for the Sendoh-Maki contracts. We will be continuing with the plan as finalised."

Kaede's eyes flashed up to the head of the table and met with his brother's stare. Hisashi was still smirking theatrically but his eyes revealed wariness; the only one in the room who seemed to realise that Kaede was more of a threat than he perhaps seemed at this moment. Kaede met his stare head on and felt the twitch of an ironic smile touch his own lips. Hisashi's intense suspicion gave him a strange sense of satisfaction. The memory of their exchange on the night of the Maki meeting came back to him.

Because Sendoh Akira is my lover.

What an intense couple of seconds had followed his words. That outrageous revelation. If Hisashi had harboured any suspicions at all, and Kaede didn't believe that he had, he most certainly would not have expected them confirmed. And yet there it was, perhaps Kaede's greatest secret delivered almost like a gift.

But telling Hisashi wasn't necessarily the madness it first appeared to be. The time it took for Hisashi to decide what to do with such dangerous information was what Kaede was gambling on. He had baited the trap; that was all.

Even now Hisashi stared at him down the table as if trying to work him out. It was obvious that Hisashi couldn't discern his motives in making such a confession and of course Hisashi couldn't repeat such an improbable statement to anyone without any proof. To do so would be to invite ridicule; it was just too unbelievable. Perhaps Hisashi didn't even believe it himself. Who would believe it? Everyone knew that the kitsune had no heart, no soul and no mind. It was ludicrous to believe that he was capable of keeping anything like a lover. And the heir to Sendoh, no less! But how dark and wonderful it had felt to say it aloud. What a light-headed victory Kaede had momentarily stolen at his brother's mortified expense.

He held Hisashi's gaze now with a look in his eye that hinted challenge. Just like a chess game it was Hisashi's turn to move. It had been two months now and Kaede knew it was only a matter of time before Hisashi would move against him.

Kaede sat back in his seat and dismissed his brother's stare with a tiny yet infuriatingly arrogant flick of his head. Hisashi's eyes narrowed dangerously in response.

For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring

1:35pm

Taoka couldn't help grinning as he finished the last signature with a flourish, tapping the small collection of papers on the teak desk with an air of importance. He slid the pristine white sheets into a plain, black briefcase with the kind of care one might show a priceless piece of chinaware. There were only a few sheets but they were fundamental; stamped and signed personally by himself rather than by Masaya who usually handled such matters on his behalf. The final documents which would formalise the Sendoh alliance with the Maki Syndicate.

And then, by definition, when Maki became a Sendoh ally then they would also become a Rukawa enemy. With such a powerful crime ring behind them, the Sendohs would be able to out-compete with the Rukawas with much greater ease. Taoka actually trembled at the thought of it. He had achieved this. He had swiped this from right under Anzai's nose. All that was left to do was to deliver the papers, a task that was more symbolic than anything but which would set the foundations to the business relationship and couldn't be left to chance. He would be entrusting the job to the most reliable people he had.

He looked up at his two sons who stood silently by the door watching him. Akira's face was solemn and serious while Hanamichi's was bored as he fingered the gun at his waist absentmindedly. They made a good team, Taoka mused. Akira was already quite brilliant in business and a cornerstone in all the family's ventures. A natural genius, or so they said. When the time eventually came for him to pass leadership of the house onto Akira he knew it would be passing into capable hands.

The two boys before him were the future. He smiled at them. He didn't do such a thing often, and it drew a look of puzzlement out of Akira. Hanamichi, still fiddling around, didn't notice anything. Taoka allowed himself this brief moment of fatherly pride as he snapped the briefcase shut and handed it to his eldest son.

"It's finished" he said "all that is left is to deliver this to Maki-san's representatives."

"Great!" Hanamichi stretched and yawned, glad no doubt to be able to leave the office and head out into some action "let's go!"

"Are you sure you're up to this, Hanamichi?" Masaya queried from Taoka's side.

Hanamichi gave a derisive laugh, "Come on uncle, it's been two months already!" He jiggled his previously wounded shoulder as if to prove the point, "See?"

Akira swallowed. Two months. Two months since he'd last seen Kaede. The agony of separation and uncertainty was almost unbearable.

"The two of you will go together." Taoka was continuing, "You will go in Akira's car as we discussed, and you will be escorted by three men on motorbikes." He gestured to Hanamichi's friends Yohei, Noda and Okusu who stood waiting a little way to the side. "We don't know what the Rukawas intend to do, though we expect they will probably make some attempt to intercept you. If there is any emergency Akira will take charge. Hanamichi, you will follow Akira's lead."

Hanamichi made a noise like a complaint while Akira took the briefcase solemnly and nodded to his father. Without further words or ceremony the group of five young men left the office.

1:36pm

There was not a single chink of natural light in this basement room in the bowels of the house. Only an artificial amber glow from a shadeless bulb cast shadows about the place. Kaede grunted in pain as Tetsuo's fist buried itself in the muscles of his stomach. He tried to twist away or curl his body protectively but his wrists bound tightly to the beam at his back restricted his movements. He gasped as another blow caught his chin and sent his head snapping into dramatic profile. Blood mixed with spittle flew from his bruised lip.

Away to the side Hisashi looked on silently. After a few more blows he approached and Tetsuo obediently stepped back. The room was silent apart from Kaede's painful rasping gasps and Tetsuo's laboured breathing.

Using an index finger Hisashi lifted Kaede's chin and peered into his face.

"You think you're so fucking smart, it makes me sick," he hissed, his breath hot on Kaede's cheek. "I'm going to kill Sendoh Akira. You know that, right?"

Kaede's eyes slid anxiously closed. His voice was weak and unsteady as he murmured, "you can't. You need him alive."

Hisashi seemed momentarily taken aback, but then he laughed coolly. "Well, perhaps you're right, I might need him alive, but it's not necessary for him to be intact, is it?" He felt Kaede trembling and smiled broadly. When there was no reply, he withdrew his finger and let his brother's head drop.

"You just stay right here," he continued with a smirk "while I go and play with that arrogant Sendoh bastard for a while. I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun. If you like, I'll bring you back a souvenir. How about some ripped fingernails? I could pull a few teeth?"

Kaede didn't have the energy to retort, and Hisashi turned away in amusement, motioning for Tetsuo to follow him.

"Don't feel bad," Tetsuo added sneeringly as they left, "we'll be back to play with you later, Kaede-sama." He smiled and licked his lips.

The room was plunged into blackness as the door closed. Kaede heard the bolt being drawn from the other side, tugged hopelessly at his binds and groaned softly in pain.

Hisashi met Kogure on the other side of the bolted door. The boy was as white as a sheet, leaning against the wall to support himself.

"Been listening in, have you?"

Kogure raised his wide eyes to meet Hisashi's in a daze.

The taller boy leaned down and delivered a gentle kiss to his lips. Kogure immediately reached out with two trembling hands and clung to him, burying his face in his lover's chest.

"Hisashi, I'm afraid."

"Kiminobu…" Hisashi murmured soothingly, stroking his hair in comfort, "let him out in a couple of hours, okay?"

Kogure pulled away, his expression changed to one of surprise. "Let him out?" he queried "Kaede?"

Hisashi nodded, "In two hours."

Kogure's brown eyes blossomed with confusion. "Okay," he said uncertainly.

"I love you" Hisashi told him sweetly, kissing his nose.

"…I… love you too… Hisashi..." Kogure whispered hoarsely.

3:10pm

The city was busy, the traffic lights irritating, and the progress hopelessly slow.

"This is crazy" Hanamichi complained, looking about, "can't you go any faster?"

Akira was forced to pull on the brakes yet again as a van pulled out of a side street in front of them.

"We don't want any attention," he pointed out.

Hanamichi rolled his eyes. "If we didn't want attention, we wouldn't be driving through the middle of Yokohama in a neon-yellow supercar."

"It's not neon" Akira protested weakly.

"I just don't like this," Hanamichi grumbled, settling deep in the seat and folding his arms.

Suddenly the intercom gave a beep and Yohei's familiar voice came through into the car;

"Sendoh-sama, look behind."

By my head, here come the Capulets.

Both brothers looked up simultaneously. In the mirror they could see a commotion occurring on the pavement some way back. It appeared at first as if there was a bicycle travelling quickly on the walkway, but it soon became apparent that it wasn't a bicycle at all – it was a motorbike – and it was approaching them rapidly as people attempted to jump out of the way.

By my heel, I care not.

"Rukawas?" Hanamichi exclaimed in excitement.

Akira didn't wait to find out. He swung the car out of the queue for the lights into the lane of oncoming traffic, gunning it forwards. Horns immediately blared but he didn't hesitate or slow.

"Go!" Hanamichi urged him.

The acceleration gripped them.

3:20pm

Light – so painful. It felt like it was burning his skin rather than just his eyes. In his disorientation he wondered whether the fires of hell were licking him finally. Had his long overdue penance come upon him?

He had to close his eyes to the pain and felt himself entirely helpless, like a newborn blinded by its first morning. He couldn't even see who it was that had opened the door and happened upon him in his helplessness. Unable to see, unable even to move his lashed wrists, heaven or hell could fall upon him and he'd be unable to do anything. So vulnerable. He hated it. His skin festered and crawled with it.

He felt a hand cup his sightless face and a delicate thumb caress his cheek, wiping away blood and bitterness. He stiffened, but then recognising the touch he leant into it.

"Sempai" he greeted with a sad sigh.

He felt the small body press up against him, curling like a cat seeking warmth. The weight made his bruised stomach and chest ache in protest, but he wouldn't have pushed away this shared despair for all the world.

They sat together in silence for some minutes, listening to each other's breathing as they both struggled to come to terms with what they were about to do. They both realised that this was perhaps the last time they'd share this strange affection; realised that they loved each other more than ever: two caged birds that sang so sweetly.

"Kaede, I don't understand." The voice was so small, so like a child that had lost its way that Kaede ached for him, and all the more for knowing that there was no longer a path to be found. No route out of this dark place.

Gentle hands encircled his waist like an embrace, and Kogure's head rested so trustingly on his shoulder as fingers pulled at the knots which held his wrists.

"Wait…" the protest fell painfully from Kaede's dry, bloodied lips. Kogure stopped.

Kaede turned his head towards the sound of Kogure's breathing and cursed his own foolishness. Hadn't he already decided? Why on earth was he so weak? Why was there still this fearful part of him which wished that his chance to confront Hisashi, to save Akira, would vanish and leave him once again hollow; a shadow creature only capable of bearing the weak light of Kogure's half-smile?

Kogure had paused in his actions of releasing Kaede's hands and only pressed himself against him so that Kaede could feel every ragged sodden breath of sorrow that he took. He seemed to understand what Kaede couldn't fathom.

"You and I are the same" he said, his voice steady yet crushingly sad. "Both cursed to make a choice between the two things we cannot live without."

His senses finally adjusting to the blinding light, Kaede found he could open his eyes. But it wasn't his eyes but his mind that saw the dust-laden beams of light projecting from the open door forming the swifts and drifts of Kogure's shapeless feathered wings. Everything he'd ever loved, ever cared for, was here pressed against him. Through years of blood, of torture and pain, he'd known no love but that gifted to him by Kogure's tormented heart. It was so beautiful and so sad; how they'd clung to one another, and how they would let each other go.

Such a choice. Now, here, finally upon him and though he'd thought he'd known the answer, it was every bit as difficult as he had feared. This guilt, this torn soul, would always be his alone to bear.

Stay or go.

Kiminobu or Akira.

"Sempai" he said softly, "please… untie me."

Kogure's tears fell like knives upon the cold floor as he released Kaede's wrists.

"Please, don't make him suffer" came the broken plea, "when you…." the voice splintered into a whisper "…when you kill Hisashi."

Kaede was stunned for a moment, but then he leant forward and kissed the tears gathered in Kogure's eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. The only promise he'd ever made – broken. The first and final betrayal.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost

Upon the sweetest flower of all the field

Kaede was still climbing the stairs out of the basement when he heard it. He froze, one foot still on the stair above, and looked back towards the open door of the room he'd just left. He didn't need to go back to see what had happened.

He remained standing there for several minutes nonetheless, just in case there was some sound to be heard, but there was nothing. When he put his hand to his face, it came away soaked with tears.

Kogure had been right – the choices forced upon them were unfair, and to live with the guilt was a hard thing. And Kaede knew, as he'd always known, that to choose between Kaede and Hisashi was something Kogure just could not do.

He almost forgot to breathe. It was so tempting to just stay frozen there. Just listening, just breathing, feeling as though time had stopped. Clinging to that moment, that hour, that day which belonged at last to Kogure. Wanting it never to end – never to be tomorrow. Wanting never to leave that place. So tempting just to drown.

But…

He'd made his choice. He forced himself to remember it, and although it was the hardest thing in the world, he turned and ran.

But that sound – loud crack, single gunshot. How strange that such gentleness should leave the world as if slamming the door behind it. The sound of what he loved moving beyond his reach.

The final despair, and the final farewell. He'd never forget it. Never.

Goodbye, sempai.

3:43pm

They thundered across the intersection and skidded back onto the correct side of the road. Yohei, Noda and Okusu kept close to them, having a far easier time weaving through the slow traffic than the wide Veyron. Behind them, the Rukawa bike had also increased its pace and was mirroring each of their twists and turns until there was no doubt that it was truly in pursuit.

"I'll go back round and fall in behind him," Okusu spoke through the intercom, his bike thundering alongside Hanamichi's window.

"He won't be alone," Akira cautioned, but Okusu only lifted a gloved hand and flashed a thumbs-up through the window. The next moment he'd pulled off to the side and vanished down another road.

On the other side of the street came the first sudden burst of gunfire. A second bike had appeared there, running counter to the traffic and firing almost blindly at the convoy. Hanamichi immediately snatched up his gun and released an answering hail of bullets through Akira's window. The crack of igniting gunpowder and billowing powdered glass hurt Akira's ears, but he kept himself focused on driving; weaving through the slow moving traffic violently. Several cars had stopped in the road at the sound of gunfire making steering through the obstacles even more difficult.

When a third bike appeared ahead of them, Hanamichi swore loudly. The newcomer released rounds of bullets over his shoulder, many of which burrowed harmlessly into the Veyron's bonnet, although one caught Yohei in the chest, causing him to double over his handlebars with the shock of pain.

"Yohei!" Hanamichi called in alarm through the intercom, seeing the bike wobble and tilt dangerously "Yohei!"

"Sorry… michi… I…"

"Drop back!" Hanamichi's voice was unusually panicked, "Get out of here! Noda, get him home quick."

"No…" Yohei gasped "…have to…"

"Sendoh-sama?" Noda had drawn his speeding bike closer in concern, and Akira remembered that he was the so-called leader of this group. He was supposed to make the decisions.

It was obvious that Yohei could not carry on, but if both Noda and Yohei fell back then he and Hanamichi might be left without any support at all. He narrowed his eyes.

"Do as Hanamichi says" he said finally, and Yohei's weak protests for their safety were ignored as Noda forced him off the main road. "Okusu, where are you?" Akira demanded.

There was no reply.

"Shit."

The Veyron jumped energetically into the gaps that opened in the traffic but was nowhere near as manoeuvrable as the bikes which were constantly behind. Hanamichi was reloading his gun with violent desperation. "We have to get onto the freeway" he exclaimed, "We can't get away from bikes on these city streets."

In agreement Akira turned them towards the major road but the problem, he quickly realised, was that this was the route that the Rukawas have evidently expected them to take. The three riders already keeping pace with them were soon joined by three more, each armed and none apparently concerned about firing upon them despite the highly populated area. The rear window was soon so peppered with holes that it was all but impossible to see out the back.

Akira felt his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. This was looking really bad.

"They're gaining" Hanamichi commented breathlessly, gun in hand as he looked back over his shoulder, "try to keep her straight on the turns."

"I'm trying" Akira said through gritted teeth as they whirled around another corner, tyres screeching in protest. The finger of the speed dial quivered at the 80 mark. They were travelling at such speed on such congested roads it was difficult to maintain pace; the last thing they needed was to lose control and hit something. Akira couldn't risk going faster, but the bike group was constantly behind them and constantly getting closer.

More experimental shots were fired at the yellow Veyron and Hanamichi and Akira were forced to duck their heads as low as they could. The view was now even more restricted. Akira cursed under his breath. How could he keep this up?

Hanamichi had opened the passenger window and was unloading a continual stream of bullets at the pursuers.

"Don't get yourself hit!" Akira warned him as he yanked the steering wheel to the left, careering unsteadily across the road. It was only a matter of time now before the tyres were hit and they were overtaken. What would happen to them if they were caught? Akira's mind clouded with the dark possibilities. Would they be killed outright, ransomed, tortured? He shuddered and swung the steering wheel violently to the right to narrowly avoid an emerging lorry. The tyres squealing angrily as he dodged back into the lane.

Through his mounting black thoughts something pervaded: Kaede. Almost like a drug Akira couldn't resist thinking of him, wondering where he was. Had Kaede known about this ambush? Was he planning something, or was he unable to help them? If they really were caught, what would Kaede do then? Akira knew that everything was hopelessly uncertain, but there was no one else he could rely on. Everything depended on that boy. Akira gripped the steering wheel tighter and clenched his teeth.

As if in direct response to his thoughts he heard Hanamichi suddenly swear and turned his eyes back to the road. There was a minor street running almost parallel to them and further up it joined the main one they were on. It was little more than a residential lane, but there was another bike there. It was travelling as fast as they were and it took the corner to join the main road just ahead of them at speed. The rider leaned so far to the side in the turn that his knee touched the floor and the machine drifted sideways around the corner. Smoke poured from the screeching types. For a moment Akira was convinced that the bike was going to spin out of control, but somehow the rider managed to straighten the wheels and right himself. Green, with a thin red zig-zag motif. It was Kaede's bike. It was Kaede.

"Fuck! There's more?!" Hanamichi leaned out of the window again and aimed his gun forwards at the newcomer.

"No!" Akira's voice sounded firmer than he'd imagined himself capable, "Don't shoot."

"What?" Hanamichi looked dubious but he withdrew from the window as instructed.

"Don't have time to explain," Akira continued to struggle with the car.

Ahead of them the single rider turned and looked back at them through the visor of his crash helmet. He stood slightly in his seat to do so. The turning of his head was obviously an acknowledgement or greeting. Akira could almost hear Kaede speaking to him.

I see you Kaede, he responded in his mind.

More bullets ploughed into the rear of the car and Akira winced. This was it then. Akira put all his faith into the speeding bike ahead of him. There wasn't any other choice.

Using only one hand to steer the bike Kaede joined Hanamichi in firing back at the pursuers. Akira saw two fall almost immediately, although what with his having to steer simultaneously Kaede's shots were less accurate than usual. They careened onwards; Hanamichi kept continually busy with gunfire didn't have any time to question Akira about their unexpected assistant.

The sound of distant sirens joined the chaotic noise of their loud progress through the city. If the police got unnecessarily involved this would become even more complicated. The whole thing was already a nightmare; since Kaede had decided to assist them so openly the complications would be mountainous. How would the Rukawas react to this betrayal? How was Akira supposed to explain it to his own family - assuming, of course, they even managed to survive this situation? It was a completely unpredictable scenario. Akira's brow furrowed with concern – did Kaede hope to deflect to Sendoh? To throw himself on Taoka's mercy? It seemed so unlike him, but Akira couldn't see what else he could possibly do what with the current turn of events.

A bullet took out his wing mirror and Akira forced his attention back fully onto the road. All at once a noise like a fog horn pierced the air and he saw with horror a huge petrol tanker emerging at an intersection directly blocking their path ahead. Having seen and heard the fast approaching commotion the driver was already hauling on the breaks, but the behemoth truck was continuing forwards on its own momentum, meter by meter such that the gap through which Akira and Kaede would have to squeeze was smaller by the second.

Akira didn't have time to deliberate on what to do. He put his foot to the floor. The car responded immediately, growling like it had been unleashed and charging onwards with phenomenal pace, desperate to make it through that shrinking space.

Akira felt a thrill of hope. If they could make it through perhaps the tanker would slow down or even stop the Rukawas behind them, allowing them to get away. With that possibility foremost in his mind he leaned forwards in concentration, gripping the wheel of the car tightly, not even blinking as the tanker rushed up upon them.

As they darted through the closing gap, Kaede was riding so close to the car that his knee was actually pressed against the side, but somehow they made it. Akira couldn't resist but to look disbelievingly into the rear-view mirror to see the gap close, the bikes trapped on the far side the truck's barrier. It seemed like luck was truly on their side. He let his breath out in a long rush and felt fully victorious. He exchanged a look of relief with Hanamichi.

"…what's he doing now?" Hanamichi queried, turning his eyes out of the window upon Kaede who still rode nearby but unlike them hadn't relaxed at all. In fact, he still had his gun in hand and was aiming back at the blockage with much more care than before. Akira watched as Kaede fired several rounds of bullets back into the side of the tanker, causing liquid petroleum to spew forth onto the road. One final shot to the ground brought up a collection of starry sparks amongst the rising fumes.

A beautiful blue veil like silk rose from the ground like something living, carried gently on the fuel's vapours.

There was a strange lull, a moment of perfect quiet where Akira's ears were full of a strange humming which seemed to drown out the noise of the Veyron's engine, the distant sirens, screams and commotion. Just a brief moment of respite and then, with undeniable magnificence, in the centre of that crowded and congested intersection, the tanker exploded.

Hanamichi's mouth hung open, "Holy fucking shit" he gasped.

Akira's pulse thumped in his temples. "No…" he stammered in disbelief

The giant sphere of flame billowed outwards, engulfing not only the truck and the bikes but everything, everyone, around it.

The explosion cast Akira's astonished face with a thousand shadows, his eyes disbelieving.

How many people did he just kill?

He could only be silent in horror. Had he been too naïve? Had he not understood what Masaya had told him, warned him about? Had he not appreciated just how dangerous Kaede really was?

This is why he rode so openly with us, he realised numbly; because he never intended to leave any survivors.

"Akira…" Hanamichi's voice was tense, he sounded as shocked as Akira felt. "…this guy is…" he looked sideways at his brother, "...he's that kitsune, isn't he?"

Akira hesitated but then nodded slowly.

"You can't trust him!" Hanamichi exclaimed in anger, "What the hell is wrong with you? Didn't you see what he just did?"

"He's…" Akira began, but trailed into silence.

Kaede give a gesture for them to follow him. Akira felt utterly confused, numb, and strangely betrayed. Taking lives so readily was… awful. They'd been finished. They'd pretty much got away. There had been no cause to… to…

He shook his head.

Something seemed… wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it. It was as if there was something he ought to have remembered. Something Kaede had said or done but… he just couldn't work it out.

Akira felt overwhelmed by adrenaline following the chase, and emotion following the explosion. He needed to talk to Kaede. There seemed to be no other choice except to follow him despite Hanamichi's protests.

Trembling with suppressed emotion he continued to follow Kaede as he led them on through the city, leaving the noise of sirens and mourning behind them.

Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

After several twists and turns they arrived in Tsuzuki – the disputed territory. Kaede turned the green bike into the abandoned Tsuzuki docks and Akira followed.

The docks were comprised of ugly, industrial yet valuable buildings which were the primary reason that the Tsuzuki region was under such fierce contention between the two families. It had the potential to bring great profits as a connection to more distant districts. As it was however, the place was long neglected and had fallen into disrepair.

Today, as usual, the docks were deserted. It didn't look like anyone had been here for a long time. Certainly no one made use of it anymore. There were no barges docked, and the cranes were still and silent in the late afternoon sun. Akira looked up at the steel structures looming imposingly above and felt suddenly very small. They cast sinister stripes of shadow across the ground like the bars of a cage. He shivered involuntarily. The place felt cold and lonely despite the warmth of the day.

Kaede drew up beside one of the rusted-iron warehouses and dropped both feet to the floor. He stretched his arms up in the air as though the ride had cramped his shoulders. Akira, still following along behind, parked his car across at the other side of the clearing alongside an empty storehouse.

"Akira…" Hanamichi gave his brother a pleading look from the passenger seat of the car "…please. Don't trust him."

Akira looked up again at Kaede's leather-clad figure.

"I understand but… I have to… ask him… why," he tried to explain helplessly.

Steeling himself, he opened the car door to step out. Hanamichi, after a moment of hesitation, did the same, keeping a tight hold on his gun and looking around suspiciously.

Akira watched as Kaede dismounted and stretched again, his pale hands going up to tug his helmet off. It was at that moment that he finally realised what had been bugging him since he'd first seen Kaede earlier. With a cool thrill he recalled that Kaede had been steering and shooting with his right hand – the hand that was injured. For a moment he couldn't make sense of it.

Kaede removed his helmet, shook out his hair and lifted his familiar blue eyes to meet Akira's.

But something was wrong.

The blue eyes. The jet black hair. The tall, thin frame. The similarities were endless. But the fact remained that it was not Kaede at all.

Akira stared in shock.

It was Hisashi.

The older Rukawa's face broke out into a grin and he opened his arms in a gesture of welcome.

"Hello, Akira Sendoh."

Akira didn't have time to reply. He might have opened his mouth in astonishment, but at that moment something heavy hit him on the back of the head and he fell face forward onto the gravel, out cold.

~tbc (don't hate me!)

Poor Kiminobu. Oh Kaede, how could you do it? :(

Please leave review if only to say "I want a happy ending!" "It should have a sad ending!" or "Ending! Thank god it's finally ENDING!"

Just one more chapter to go. Thanks for sticking with this story for so long! You rock.