Yes, I know. I'm being so much of a liar - telling you I won't be updating till after two weeks. But when I had the chance to check my account, I found out that someone had added this sequel to her favorites. And thank you!

So, here's the update. Please enjoy yourselves!

The Rose In Between

by four-eyed 0-0

CHAPTER ONE

This day had just been as exhausting as any day had always been. And in accordance to his daily ritual after work, he would sit back down on the couch and watch the news for the day while drinking a nice cup of tea to soothe his nerves. Other times he would prefer a glass of wine.

He stared around his room. His emerald-green eyes automatically landed upon a framed picture sitting peacefully on his bedside table and from there he would be driven back to those blissful memories seven years ago. And that Christmas night when everything ended. And all because of her disappearance did he have to tell the shaken mother of his all about him and her. It had been rough and agonizing, but after it all, everything had been fine between his mother and himself. She married his boyfriend and he now had a stepbrother who ironically had the same name as him. They were now working in his stepfather's company while their mom simply stayed in the house as the loving mother and wife she could be.

Everything was relatively fine, except for himself and Anikka.

Sometimes his thoughts would drift toward her. How is she now? Is she living a normal life? Is she also working? Where is she? What has she been doing for the past years? He would ask himself these questions then with utter horror, a question would pop into his head: Is she alive? Then almost immediately, he would conclude that she was, living a healthy and happy life. Is she dating? He would skip that question. He himself was not. He had never dated anyone ever since she went away. Does she still love me?

This question would go over and over his head like madness. She left when Karasu managed to touch her, thinking that she had done something wrong to him. Something he would not forgive her for. But no, he perfectly knew that he came right on time. And even if he did not, he would love her for what she was. He had waited for her so long. He had done everything to make her happy. But why did she think of anything like that? He would accept her unconditionally. He loved her so. Until now.

He stared at the picture for longer than necessary. It bore her happy face, her brown eyes, her brown curls. His arms were around her, red hair so vivid, and cheek pressed to hers. He could still feel her in his arms. He could still feel the burning he felt every time she glared at him. He could still feel her lips upon his. He could still feel her warmth around his shaking body the night he made love to her.

He snapped his closing eyes open and stared back at the table. There sat the silver necklace, its pendant of rose-shaped diamond glinting against the light. It had been hers. She had been wearing it since she turned eighteen and till the day of her running away. Then another familiar thought would slip into his reverie. His eyes travelled to his left hand and there, shimmering, was a silver band bearing her name. She had not thrown her ring along the necklace, he would tell himself yet again. That mere fact would make his hopes soar sky-high, a hope that she had not given up on him at all. That perhaps she was just bidding her time, healing herself and one day she would come back to give them another chance.

"Ni-chan!"

He was startled at the sudden call. His neck snapped up to see his stepbrother smiling at him, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yes, Kokoda?" Kurama asked, sipping from his teacup.

The younger of the two nodded toward the television that he had completely forgotten about. "Korin Takizato died in an accident!" he said, plopping down next to him on the couch.

Kurama watched the news flash. The great owner of the Takizato Group of Companies died in a car crash thirty minutes ago. Korin Takizute was one of their pending investors and the redhead bit his lip. Perhaps this would be one failed account all because of the death of the businesswoman. He was about to have a scheduled meeting with her in a matter of days. Terrible. He felt sorry for her.

Kokoda stared at him. "Too bad. We wouldn't have the deal. How unlucky it is that she died even before we could have the investment!"

He turned to his younger brother and smiled. "Is that all that matters to you? You should feel sorry for her. She died, all right? Don't be like that." He reached and ruffled his dark hair.

"Oh, stop that, ni-chan!" he commanded, pulling a face. "You may be three years my senior but I'm twenty-two. I'm a legal adult for four years and fiddling with my hair is a disgrace."

Kurama chuckled. "Sorry. But to me, you'll always be my little brother," he said, tousling Kokoda's hair again, receiving a scowl. They both turned back at the news to see a beautiful young woman's picture flashing just before the newscaster's own countenance came into the picture. Kurama blinked. And blinked. Was it only him or did that woman really look like Anikka?

"Her daughter, Inoue Takizato, who is currently the top graduating student in the University of London would be boarding a private jet by noontime in England, meaning it would be around nine in the evening here at Tokyo, for the businesswoman's wake in the mansion's chapel."

"She's got a daughter?" was all the redhead could say just as a commercial break was commenced. They never knew that she had one.

Kokoda just shrugged. "Well, that's what the news said," he said simply, standing up. "But, goody-goody. She's a beautiful daughter at that."

"You like her?" He could not believe himself for asking that like a jealous boyfriend.

"Nah. She's just lovely. Anyway, father would surely be dragging us tomorrow to the wake."

Kurama just nodded and then his brother was gone in a snap. He blankly stared at the television. How come did he think that woman looked like Anikka? And that she actually was Anikka? He had been so sure. Brown eyes, brown curls, and that smile. There was no mistaking that she was Anikka. Yet it was just a sight possibility. It must have been because of his previous musing that he thought she was Inoue Takizato. Anyways, they would be going over to express their condolences. Tomorrow would hopefully do him good.

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It was the first time in many years that he had been deprived of his composure at work because of a woman besides Anikka. He had never been so jittery and semi-conscious of things going around work especially of the door of his office was closed and that he was left to his own solitude. Inoue Takizato kept bugging him. Even though he kept assuring himself that he would know later after work who she really was, his mind had not been ridden of all his questions.

Then a startling thought knocked in his brain. Was it because of his being so loyal to Anikka did he become so paranoid about a woman who appeared to look like her? He shook his head, throwing it back on the headrest of his chair. Goodness.

When lunchtime arrived, he went down to the cafeteria where Yusuke and Kuwabara would be waiting for them. He had given the two chances to work in his company since they had looked for jobs and he was glad that they were around. They had always been amusing, and he always looked forward to lunch because of them. And it was ever gladdening when he arrived to see them grinning as always. He immediately queued up and walked to their favorite table by the corner.

"Hey, Kurama," greeted Kuwabara, his mouth full of food.

"How's our senior vice president?" Yusuke added, grinning still.

He smiled, picking his chopsticks. "Fine. How are you, dear security heads?"

"Ah," Kuwabara interjected, spraying little rice onto the table with which the redhead swiftly lifted his tray out of the way. Yusuke was too late to respond. His juice was sprinkled. "Sorry," he muttered, before swallowing. "Well, as always, we are fine."

"Never been exhausting." Yusuke laughed. Kurama had to admit, ever since they worked for the security department, these two friends never failed him, much to his stepfather's happiness. Occasionally, yes, there would be some troubles, but it never surpassed their control.

"By the way, how's Keiko?" It had been a year from now since Yusuke and Keiko got engaged. The girlfriend pursued her dream for being a teacher and was now working at the elementary school half a kilometer away from this building.

"Oh, the same. Still the noisy little girl she could be." He seemed uninterested.

Kurama nodded. "Yukina?" he asked the carrot-top boy. "I heard you have been dating." Much to his surprise, though. Hiei must have been murderous. Good thing was that he was at peace in Makai.

Kuwabara automatically smiled and simply replied, "Yeah."

"How about you?" Yusuke chirped in.

Kurama shrugged. "Still the single but faithful man I am."

The Spirit Detective snorted. "When will you move on, man? It's been seven bloody years!"

"All hail to Youko Kurama!" said Kuwabara sardonically, with which Yusuke laughed and both of them bowed their heads in mock reverence. "You're one-of-a-kind, dude. Do you still believe she'll be coming?"

"I've told you every day that I'll never give up on her. And to tell you the truth, I'm sure she's coming." Not so sure, truthfully. But he was the sly fox that he had always been.

Yusuke stared at him incredulously. "Now, that's new. And very thick at that. How do you know? She's been gone for years and just then she would come back?"

"I thought I've told you why she went away. She wanted to heal, right? And that's precisely why I let her run away." He was somehow getting more and more impatient of the two. He sipped his juice.

"Just a piece of advice, man. Don't dwell on the past." Kuwabara looked very much serious.

Yusuke nodded feverishly. "Yes. Do what you have to do and when someone else comes, be open for the new opportunity."

"I know. And thanks," he told them, all of a sudden back to his calm. This was just another lunchtime spent with people who knew him to the bones. "Tomorrow you shall know whether I'm right or wrong with the premonition."

"No matter what the outcome is, just be sure you'll be fine," said Yusuke before spooning rice into his mouth.

"I will."

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The redhead pulled into the parking lot and his stepfather and -brother quickly got off the car. They started toward the chapel situated ten meters from the large mansion, which was already full of friends and mourners. Kurama felt his heart racing as they neared the double doors and there, standing alone by the coffin, wearing a black sleeved dress, her oak-brown curls hanging loose about her shoulders and her back turned at them, was unmistakably Inoue. Once he caught sight of the woman, he felt a familiar tugging at his belly and an assurance that she was her washed over him. Sutoku steered the two of them toward the dais and when they were feet apart did she turn around to look at them.

He did not know whether it was really shock that shone in her tear-glistened eyes once she caught sight of them for she bowed the next half of a second. Kurama just stood there, bowing absent-mindedly, still shaken by the sight of her. She was Anikka. He was now sure of it. His hands itched to reach for her. His lips shook with the restraint of planting a lingering kiss on her temple. He wanted her in his arms. She was Anikka. Despite the sheer changes that her countenance had gone through after all these years, her brown eyes still shone like those days when he looked into them. He had never been so sure in his life since she had gone until now.

Suddenly, Sutoku's voice broke him out of his reverie. "Our condolences, Takizato-san."

She smiled, very much like the way she would before. "Thank you." Her Japanese sounded somehow twisted. Probably staying in London had done the good of her. He could almost hear the English accent she had been so fluent in before even as she spoke the native language now. "I've heard that your company ― "

Sutoku waved her sentence off. "Now, don't be so worried about the deal. It's time to mourn and not to discuss those things." Kokoda nodded, almost shaking his head off his neck. Kurama winced at that.

He suddenly realized something. How come could his stepdad not recognize her? There was no hesitation in his voice when he talked to her. Like they were indeed acquaintances. Perhaps he just did not know her that much. As for Kokoda, well, he had never met Anikka until now.

"We're really sorry for the news," his brother suddenly said, making him jump nervously. Now he was the only one who had not spoken. Kokoda elbowed him very discreetly, steering him to speaking.

"I ― it must have been hard," he finally stammered, so that she had to look at him warily, almost shyly, "being in London when it happened."

Unexpectedly, she beamed at him, as though there was nothing weird happening. "It is, but I managed to arrive just around noontime. Thank goodness." A wave of nervy calm overwhelmed him when she said this.

"You are about to graduate as summa cum laude, right?" he asked, eager to hear more of the voice he had missed so much.

"Well, yes, I am," she replied coolly.

"That's really great," Kokoda suddenly budged in, making the kitsune give him a sideways look. His stepbrother's eyes were sparkling. What was that about?

When he was to open his mouth, Anikka suddenly gave an "Umpf!" as small arms wrapped around her thighs, unbalancing her for a split-second. She paled, saying, "Excuse me," and got hold of the hands clasping her skirt to reveal a two-and-a-quarter-foot high boy, hair incredibly as red as Kurama's and eyes very much like the emeralds that he had. A jolt in his stomach made goose bumps grow on the skin underneath his business suit.

Blood rose to his face at the sight of the boy whose face bore his own calling Anikka, "Mum!" in English. His heart was racing, ready to tear out of his chest. A weakening sensation filled him as he watched the mother kiss her son on the cheek, carry him and rock him lovingly. He could not move. He was aware that his mouth was slightly open, but he could not bring himself to close it. It was as though he was watching himself when he was younger and it felt like his knees would give way to how fragile he felt at the very moment.

Anikka smiled at them. "Uh, well, gentlemen, this is my son, Akihiro, also known as Hiro."

"Your son?" Kokoda blurted, taken aback. Kurama felt slightly offended.

Anikka merely shrugged, looking at the boy fondly, her brown eyes sparkling. "Hiro, meet Messieurs Hatanaka and Minamino," she told the child, gesturing over them, and Hiro stared, taking their appearances in.

"Hi, sirs!" he greeted, waving at them cheerfully, his English accent still dominant. Kurama felt his heart sink to his abdomen. Tears were almost pooling in his eyes but he willed all of his courage to blink them back from their ducts.

"Hello, handsome little boy," said Sutoku and Kokoda waved at the child too. It was his turn.

Hiro gazed at him with those big, innocent green eyes and grinned. "Long-Haired Mister!" he called, making him blink. His mother chuckled and pinched Hiro's cheek.

"I'm sorry for his being like that," she said to Kurama almost uneasily.

"I ― it's fine," he finally managed to say, his mouth and throat so dry. "Hi, Hiro. How are you?"

"I'm fine; thank you," the boy replied, all the time smiling at him. He turned to his mother, now addressing her in English. "Mum, I want to play with Long-Haired Mister." He cupped Anikka's cheeks. "Please?"

Anikka bent down and set him on his foot, crouching to speak to him. "Now, Hiro, this is not the place to play," she explained, brushing his red hair. "This is a chapel and a chapel is for praying."

Hiro frowned. "But you were talking to them."

"That's because they are Granny's visitors. Later they will also pray. Do you understand, Hiro?" She smiled. Kurama wanted to stoop down and help her explaining.

"Okay, Mum. But I wish to stay and speak to Long-Haired Mister," he stated, pointing at the kitsune.

Anikka scowled and Kurama almost concluded that she did not want her son to be close to him at all when she said, "It's rude to point, Hiro. I've told you that many times before." Kurama released a breath so that Kokoda stared at him. He merely smiled.

"Sorry. Won't do it again," Hiro immediately uttered. He turned to Kurama, saying, "Would you mind talking to me, Long-Haired Mister?"

"I ― "

Anikka cut him off. "No, Hiro. They will pray after this and you cannot talk to them." She patted his shoulder patiently. "Now be a good boy. Go back to Rosella and you can play with her."

"But, Mum ― "

"Ah, Takizato-san," said Kurama, surprised with himself. "He can sit down with us and I promise I will make him pray." He could not help it.

Hiro's eyes sparkled. "Yes, Mum. I will pray with him!"

Anikka looked defeated and disturbed. Was it a sign that this child had something to do with him? Was Hiro their lovechild? There was no other way to explain why he resembled him so.

"All right. Promise me you'll behave."

Hiro nodded fervently and before he knew it, Kurama was being pulled to a nearby pew, the small hand clutching at his sleeve. There was a tingling sensation in his chest when the child stared at him, grinning, waiting for him to speak. He was still weak, still shaken. And he could not think of a proper statement. As he gazed at the boy, his heart raced. Is this how it feels when you are near a long-lost relative? Is it instinctive? Can you feel your blood rising, your flesh swarming?

"Long-Haired Mister," Hiro began, startling him form his void. "You're so quiet."

Kurama straightened and beamed at the boy, regaining his nervous composure. "I'm just like this."

"What's your first name, sir Hatanaka?"

The kitsune swallowed. "Ah, no. I'm Mr. Minamino. Shuichi Minamino."

"Shuichi?"

He nodded. "But some call me Kurama," he said, before he could even stop himself. He felt a need to tell the boy that certain truth.

Hiro knitted his eyebrows. "Kurama? Is it your nickname? Isn't that far-fetched from Shuichi?"

Kurama laughed quietly. This boy was turning to a chatterbox. Stealing a glance back at Anikka, he could see that Kokoda's eyes were almost cloudy. That made him stop laughing. He turned back to Hiro. "Well, it is a nickname my friends call me."

"A pet name?"

"Yes. A pet name."

The boy nodded in understanding. He looked over at his mother and the two men who were still speaking to her. "Tell me, do Messrs. Hatanaka also call you 'Kurama'?"

"Oh," Interjected Kurama, "they do not."

"Why, aren't they your friends?"

Kurama shook his head. This would be a long conversation, he reckoned. "They are. But you see, elder Hatanaka-san is my stepdad and the younger Hatanaka-san is my stepbrother. They have known me as Shuichi even before they met my friends." It was true. They knew that he was being called Kurama but only Shiori knew the whole truth.

"Ah." Hiro looked at them then back to him. "They're your stepdad and stepbrother. Where's your real father? Do you have a real brother or a sister?"

The kitsune gulped. This boy was really a chatterbox. "Uh, well… I grew up without a father. And I do not have any sibling."

"Wow. We're the same. Only that my Mum did not marry at all."

Kurama nodded. He wished he could tell him how he wished he could marry his mother.

"By the way, where is your mother?" Hiro asked yet again.

"She's at home."

"Is she as beautiful as my Mum?"

The kitsune felt a twinge in his belly and a blush crept to his cheeks. "Yes."

Hiro smiled. He was so talkative. How old was he? If he was right, he would be five or six.

"Hiro," he said. "How old are you?"

"I'm four and in October I'll be turning six."

October. It all fit. If he was really Kurama's son, he would have been indeed born on October, nine months from that December night. His heart jolted yet again.

"How about you?"

"I'm twenty-four. And," he replied, thinking of how preoccupied he was for not realizing that his birthday was just a week from now, "on the twenty-second of this month, I'll be turning a year older."

Hiro's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really? Will you have a party?"

"I think so."

The boy suddenly grabbed the sleeve of his coat and he shivered with the urge to pat his head fatherly. "You will invite me and Mum, right?"

"I will."

"Yes!" he exclaimed, then covered his mouth when Anikka, Sutoku, and Kokoda shot them curious glances. Kurama felt a scorching heat on his face. The boy mouthed, "Sorry," to his mother and smiled, trying to save his neck from any scolding. The mother tilted her eyebrow, with which Kurama blanched, and turned back to the father and son.

"Be careful, Hiro. We are disturbing those who are already praying," he told the boy who merely grinned.

"Okay."

Kurama smiled. He was growing fond of the boy. Was this really because he was his father?

"Why do you look like me?"

Kurama flinched, a sickening feeling building up in his chest. Why did they look alike?

"I've always been wondering who my father is. And every time I ask Mum, she simply says that he's gone forever and we do not have to be bothered about him." The kitsune fought the urge to clutch at the stitch in his chest. How come did she stand lying to her son all these years? "But I'm smart enough to know that most parents and children look alike. I've been searching for my father. Perhaps he too has red hair and green eyes like mine. Do you think I'm right?"

How would he respond to this? Questions were still racing in his mind. How did Anikka become Korin Takizato's daughter? Was it by any chance that she ran across the late businesswoman when she ran away? Did she merely change her name and then give birth to their son, to this boy he was talking to at the very moment?

"I don't know." He leant on the backrest and sighed. "But as much as I know, there are times when a parent and a child do not look alike. As for example, you do not look like your mother ― "

"Then I must look like my father, right? If not, I wouldn't have been the son of any of my parents, right?"

Hiro himself caught the great Youko Kurama off-guard. He was correct. And now he was proving himself right that this boy was his flesh and blood. No other child would be as smart as him if not being his.

"Long-Haired Mister?"

Kurama straightened. He looked at the expectant Hiro. "I guess you're right."

"Then you're my father?"

The kitsune blinked. I am, perhaps. "I guess not, Hiro. I had never met your Mum till now." With this the boy's eyes were steered downward and he felt a sting of guilt for lying to him. He had been so sure. But he should leave that to Anikka. She raised him all by herself and it was her right to decide. In desperate wanting to make the boy feel better, he said, "You see, Hiro, there are billions of redheads in the world who also have green eyes like the two of us." He felt a sudden doubting of his paternity when he said that. "Perhaps, your Dad must be one of them." What if what he was saying was right? That he was not Hiro's father at all? He shook the thought off his mind.

"Maybe." Hiro gave him a crooked smile and was about to say something when Anikka came to fetch the him.

"Sorry to interrupt," she told Kurama who simply shrugged. "Hiro, it's thirty minutes before eight. You need to shower before bedtime, remember?"

The boy sullenly nodded.

"Now say good-bye to Minamino-san."

Kurama looked at the boy who jumped off the seat, touching his knees. He felt a shiver run down his spine once again. "Bye, Ku-kun."

"Ku-kun?" he interjected. Anikka noticeably twitched.

Hiro nodded affirmative. "You told me friends call you Kurama. I am your friend so from this day on I'll call you Ku-kun for short."

He could not help but smile and with the expression Anikka wore, he could conclude that he told Hiro too much. "Okay."

"Come on, Hiro," said Anikka, who carried the boy in her arms. Kurama stood up and bowed at them.

"Bye, Ku-kun," the boy finally said, giving him a slight kiss on the cheek. Anikka looked beside herself.

"Bye, Hiro-kun."

Anikka curtly nodded her head and the two of them were gone in a second's notice. Sutoku and Kokoda made their way to him and were ridden of the clump of flowers that he had forgotten they brought.

"Call it a night?" his stepfather said, grinning.

Kurama shrugged. "I suppose."

"Come on. I've already bidden good-bye to Takizato-san."

The three of them went out of the chapel and a feeling of foreboding lingered through Kurama's mind. Was this the end of his long wait?

"I really find Takizato-san lovely."

Kurama flinched with his stepbrother's statement as they were pulling to the driveway. "You like her?"

"Yeah."

That was all it took the kitsune to be silent and suddenly morose all the way home.

See? Next chapters are considerably lengthy, unlike my prologues. Haha. And whoa. Here's Hiro! And Inoue. And Kokoda. [Actually, I've been debating mentally which name of Kurama's stepbrother to use. I know that they had the same name (Shuichi) but found out that in the English dub of the anime, he was called Kokoda and here in FFnet, he's called Koto. I preferred the former. Haha.]

Anyway, there's it. How did you find this chappie? Kurama being jealous of his brother? Haha. :D

I EAT REVIEWS. So please serve me one. :D Thanks!

~four-eyed 0-0