Still Raining
Sequel to: Street of Dreams
I Want Us To Be A Family Series
Written by: chochowilliams
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Summary: There was one woman at the press conference that refused to leave well enough alone. Two years later, she's back and causing trouble. She's determined to prove that Aizawa isn't the biological father of little Takanori. What if she's right?
Warning: AU, Angst, Drama, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fantasy, M-Preg, Language, M/M, Hentai, OCs, OOC, Hermaphrodites (referred to as "Neutrals"), Christian Extremist POV, Various Bashing
Pairings: Shuichi/Eiri, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, one-sided Eiri/Ayaka, Mentioned: Shuichi/Taki & Shuichi/OMC
Inserts: flashbacks to previous chapters & to Street of Dreams
A/N: Enjoy!
oOo
Chapter 3: And The Truth Shall Set You Free
In route to Kita-ku, Kyoto, Japan
One of eleven wards of Kyoto, Kita-ku-meaning "North Ward"-was home to four universities. There was Bukkyo University; Kyoto Sangyo University; Ritsumeikan University, Kinugasa Campus and Otani University.
There was also the famous Rinzai sect temple Daitoku-ji, as well as the Kami Kamo Shrine-that was one of the oldest shrines in Japan-and Kinkaku-ji, or the "Golden Pavilion" that was one of the Japan's most famous temples. These three temples were three of the most well-known in Japan.
As of 2008, there was estimated to be a population of about 122,391 people residing within Kita. One of those people just happened to be Shuichi Shindou's ex-lover, Yakuza mob boss Rique Kizou.
With his elbow resting on the lip of the window and his chin cupped in his hand, Shuichi gazed blankly out the window of the speeding train as the scenery whizzed by in blurs of colors.
He felt nauseous and it had nothing to do with his pregnancy and everything to do with the man whom he was on his way to see.
Growling, Kizou clenched his hands into tights fists of fury. "Get out," he said slowly in a dangerously low voice.
Shuichi's laughter was silenced as if a switch had been flicked. Blinking, he sat up and looked at him in confusion. "What?"
Kizou rounded the bed and grabbing Shuichi's arm dragged him off the bed and out of the bedroom.
Suddenly sober, Shuichi tugged against the painful vise-like grip on his arm. He planted his feet on the floor. "Kizou," Shuichi whined. "You're hurting me! Kizou!"
The other occupants of the house were startled away as Kizou continued to drag Shuichi kicking and screaming through the house. Whispers followed the couple. "What's going on? What's happening?"
"What did I do?" Shuichi asked the man as tears flowed down his face. He tried prying off the hand clamped around his arm. "Kizou! Please!"
Kizou slammed open the front door in a fury and disgusted haze. He marched down the drive past the cars, still pulling a reluctant and hysterical Shuichi behind him. He tossed the boy down the driveway. Shuichi lost his balance and fell, hissing in pain as he skinned his shins and elbows. "Get out of here," he snapped. "Now!"
Shuichi rolled around onto his back and stared up at the tall man who had been his entire world for the past year. "Why? What did I do?" he cried as the tears flowed down his face. "Please! I don't understand!"
Kizou gazed at his little lover and felt like a complete heel. All he wanted to do was pull the boy into his arms and never let go. He wanted to wipe that expression off his face. A smile suited Shuichi best. He truly did love this boy and he knew Shuichi felt something for him. It may not be the same feeling that he felt for him, but there was some sort of connection between the two of them. And he knew this was the only real home the boy had. But he just could not do it. He had a reputation to uphold. Besides, with the way things were right now, he could not continue to guarantee Shuichi's safety. The last thing Kizou wanted was to pull Shuichi into the dark underworld of this organization. This way Shuichi had a chance to give the child that was growing within him a much better life than the kind of life he would have if both mother and son remained here with him. Someday, Shuichi will thank him for this.
Steeling himself, he marched towards the boy and hunched over his quivering, half-naked form. "I. Don't. Like. Freaks," he hissed. It broke his heart to witness Shuichi's complete world shatter around him. But it was all for the best. He just had to continue saying that to himself. It was all for the best.
Had that really only been three years ago? It seemed more like several lifetimes had come and gone since then. The person he had been then was not the person he was now. The Shuichi of three years ago and the Shuichi of today were two completely different people. It was difficult to even contemplate they had at one time been one and the same.
Back then, he had been utterly and completely alone. His father had adored Ryuichi and had raised him as if he were his own flesh and blood. When Maiko was born, their father had been the proudest parent on the face of the planet. He'd radiated happiness and glowed with pride, but when it came to the son he had actually fathered…Shuichi could have been a speck of lint on his sleeve. For the only attention his father had ever shown him was when he brushed him out of his way.
As for his mother…She claimed to love him, but in the end, what she loved was the image of him she had in her head.
Then there was Maiko…Though they were siblings, they could not be any different. She was popular, smart and beautiful. She did not sleep around, did not drink, did not experiment with drugs, did not hang around with questionable people and had a future ahead of her that could "put food on the table". Essentially, she was the perfect, ideal child. She was everything that he was not, a child that a father could be proud of.
Ryuichi was the only one who had ever loved him for who and what he was. Ryuichi had never seen him as a failure or a mistake. Ryuichi had loved him and cared for him when nobody else had. Ryuichi had raised him like his own. Unfortunately, though, because he was the lead singer of Nittle Grasper, Japan's hottest rock band, he hadn't always been there. Ryuichi had always been out on the road, in the studio, at a photo shoot or being interviewed for some program or magazine. His career had come first before anything else, even Shuichi. During those few times when Ryuichi had actually been around, he had been overtly overprotective and had spoiled Shuichi rotten in an attempt to make up for all the time when he was absent. When he was younger, Shuichi had eagerly awaited what little time they could spend together. He'd loved all the attention and gifts Ryuichi showered him with. As he grew, though, the anticipation and excitement had dwindled and died. No amount of presents in all the world could make up for not having his big brother around and where the "over-protective elder brother" routine used to make him feel proud and special, it had grown quickly into an embarrassment. He could not express adequately enough what an abhorrence it had been to him.
With a father who hated the ground he walked on, a mother who chose to pretend her son was something he was not, a sister who seemed to want nothing to do with him for one reason or another and a brother who was never there for him when he needed him, he had been left all alone.
Yes, there had been Hiro and Suguru and even Tatsuha, but it was not the same. Tatsuha was just his big brother's partner and Hiro and Suguru were his friends.
But, no, that wasn't quite accurate, he decided.
When it came right down to it, they were not just his friends. Having known one another their entire lives and being in a band together, Hiro and Suguru were a pseudo-family in a way, but still, it was not quite the same. Being acknowledged by his friends was one thing, but being accepted by your parents was something else altogether and it was that recognition that he had craved though had never received.
That despair of being all alone in the world had sent him into a downward spiral. It was like that patch of black ice on the road in the middle of winter. Even though you could not see it, you knew it was out there somewhere. It did not matter how careful you were, for when you find it there was nothing you could do to stop your vehicle from careening out of control. All you could do was go alone for the ride and hope that when you stopped you could walk away with only minor cuts and bruises.
In his depression, he'd had thoughts of just ending it. Nobody would miss him anyway. His father never acknowledged his existence. His mother would never miss something she never wanted to know existed in the first place. Maiko had been so caught up in her own little world that she might as well have been an only child. Ryuichi was never around in the first place so what he did not know would not hurt him. As for Bad Luck, the guys could always find a new singer. It happened all the time. Bands replaced members like normal people changed their clothes.
Then Kizou had entered the picture. He had walked into that disgusting, cockroach infested, and urine-smelling bathroom in that seedy bar with his ever-present shadow at his side and offered to turn his frown upside down.
When he entered Kizou's world, though he had been surrounded by the prostitutes, junkies and countless other vagabonds that Kizou employed, he had still felt that desolate despair and it slowly continued to eat away at him. So he tried filling that hole with whatever he could. He polluted his body with those experimental drugs Kizou continuously offered him. Though Kizou forbid it, he'd even started drinking. Though Kizou and Taki were the only ones he had ever actually slept with in that house, he had given out and accepted "party favors" from countless others. It was all so that he could forget that he was nothing more than a good for nothing piece of shit.
The more the sex, the drugs and the alcohol failed to make him forget, the more the hole within him widened and the more aggressive his usage became. It would have killed him eventually. He could say that with absolute certainty. The sad part was that back then he would not have minded. He would have welcomed Death with open arms.
All that changed one night when a tall, mysterious blond haired, blond eyed writer decided to go for a walk through the park to clear his head. His whole life turned around the night he met Eiri. Even if their one night together had remained just that, Shuichi knew he would not have minded. Like a person who had been blind since birth being given the miracle of sight, that brief rendezvous had opened up a whole new world of possibilities.
Today he had a wonderful life. He had a husband who worshipped the ground he walked on, a beautiful son; he was carrying his husband's twins and his dream of being a professional singer had come true when Tohma had honored the contract Bad Luck had won from L8r Records at the Battle of the Bands. He finally had a relationship with his sister Maiko and he had a father who was always there for him and who loved him no matter who or what he was.
As painful as Kizou's words had been on that day, the man had actually done him a favor and for that he would be forever grateful.
oOo
NG Productions Executive Offices
As the ringing continued, Tohma swiveled his chair around. He took in the view of his city spread out before him. It was indeed a remarkable sight. The metal and glass landscape seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see.
He was not sure how he felt about Shuichi agreeing to have a paternity test done. It could be argued that this was the only option they had to get Nami Mataguchi off their backs once and for all, but anybody who knew anything about terrorist negotiations knew that people like that were never going to be satisfied. Besides, who said that Nami Mataguchi would be satisfied with the results? What if it was discovered that Taki Aizawa was indeed little Takanori's biological father? There was no way Nami Mataguchi would accept that. She would be out there screaming about conspiracies. People like her were not satisfied unless they were proven to be right, whether she was or not. Then there was the opposite. What if her claims were proven to be true? What if Shuichi was wrong and Taki Aizawa did not father little Takanori like she has been insinuating ever since Eiri and Shuichi's relationship was exposed? There was no way she would stop there. With the proof to back up what she has been saying all along in her hand, her inflated ego would go on the rampage.
"If they were hiding something like this, then what else are they hiding?"
She would pick apart Eiri and Shuichi's relationship. Whether they had anything to hide or not, even the most in love couple could not stand up against the constant barrage of attacks from the media. He had seen it enough times to know.
What was there to stop her from pressing an issue she had only insinuated at once over a year ago?
"It's clear what the truth is, Mr. Seguchi. Why don't you just admit it? Ryuichi Sakuma and Shuichi Shindou's relationship is more than just that of mere siblings, isn't that true?"
They were lucky that Shuichi had not pressed the issue. He was not sure what they would have told the young singer.
But if Nami Mataguchi was proven correct in her assumptions about little Takanori, then…
Little Takanori was only two years old, so all this fighting over who actually fathered him was something that would not truly affect him. Shuichi himself had told him not long after little Takanori was born that he would make sure that his son grew up knowing the truth. But if the truth came out that Ryuichi was actually Shuichi's biological father and that his mother was locked up in a psychiatric center for the mentally insane because he'd tried to kill himself while still pregnant with Shuichi before Ryuichi could actually speak to Shuichi first…all hell would break loose.
There was a click and then a masculine voice broke into the silence. "Yes. This is Takashi Iba."
Tohma spun his chair back around and grabbed the receiver. "Yes, hello. This is Seguchi from NG Productions."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Seguchi. Hello, sir."
"I do apologize for calling you so early, Mr. Iba, but if you do not mind I would like to get right down to business."
"Of course, sir," Takashi replied. "It's no problem at all. What can I do for you?"
"I have an artist here at NG Productions who would like to have a paternity test done. Can you explain a little on how this is done?" Though he was not mentioning any names, he had a feeling that Takashi Iba knew to whom he was referring. Unless he had been living under a rock, everyone in Japan knew all about the challenge Nami Mataguchi issued. The Wicked Bitch of the East was probably gloating right now over her success. Oh, how he wished he could have used his connections to silence her. Unfortunately, that would have caused more harm than good.
"O-of course, sir. Well," Takashi continued sounding a little nervous, "in a standard DNA paternity test, the tested parties include a child, the alleged father, and the mother. It runs about 45070 yen. We start the testing process with a 9500 yen non-refundable partial payment."
With a nod, Tohma jotted down some quick notes.
"The mother's participation helps to exclude half of the child's DNA, leaving the other half for comparison with the alleged father's DNA," the man continued. "However, we can perform a paternity test without the mother's participation. Though this involves additional analysis, there is not any additional charge."
Good to know.
"Either way, the results are equally conclusive." The man cleared his throat. "We also can test additional children or alleged fathers if needed, though there is an additional 18595 yen fee for each additional tested party."
Tohma hoped that service would not be needed, though knowing what little he knew about Shuichi's past, he had a feeling his hopes might just be dashed. This was one time he hoped he was wrong.
"Motherless tests are guaranteed to have at least a 99.9% probability of paternity for inclusions and 100% for exclusions."
Good. That way it would be easy to include or exclude Taki Aizawa as the father of little Takanori Uesugi. "Now, how would you go about getting a DNA sample for testing?"
"Usually, we use the painless buccal-"
"That is…?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. What we do is swab the inside of the cheek to collect samples."
Ah. Jut like those police dramas. Tohma frowned. There was one problem with that method. "And if the alleged father is deceased?"
"Oh, well, there are several options in that case. If there is a pathology or autopsy sample from the hospital or morgue from the deceased alleged father then that could be used. If not, then we can collect samples from one or both of the deceased alleged father's parents. If they are not available, then we can test multiple 'first degree' relatives of the deceased. This is when we collect samples from at least three known biological relatives of the deceased."
"Good. Good. That should be simple enough." Hopefully. Truthfully, he was not sure how the Aizawas would feel about this whole affair. Taki Aizawa had been an only child and his parents had only been able to move passed their son's death because they had believed that he had left an heir behind. Tohma was not sure what this would do to the grieving Aizawas if it were discovered that their grandson was not really their son's child.
"I am taking it that the alleged father is deceased?"
"Yes, he is. He was in a car accident not long after discovering that he was to be a father."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but as I said, we have several other options available if needed."
"Hm. How long would it take for the results to come in?"
"You will receive the results within three days time."
"That fast?"
"Yes, sir."
With his pen gripped in his hand and the phone held to his ear with the other, Tohma reclined in the leather chair behind his desk in a smooth motion. He beat the pen against the desktop rhythmically. "And I do not have to remind you that this is of the utmost confidential."
"Of course, not, sir. I trust all of my employees whole heartedly."
"Good. I would not like any leaks to-impair our relationship. You will fax all the necessary paperwork to me here at NG?"
"Y-yes, sir. Of course."
"Thank you."
Returning the handset to the cradle, Tohma set his pen down and sitting back, steeples his fingers under his chin.
What a mess.
oOo
In Route to the Uesugi-Sakuma Residence - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
What the hell had possessed him to agree to allow his pregnant husband to travel alone to visit his ex-Yakuza-lover? It was one of the stupidest decisions that he ever made-allowing Shuichi to move out for several months being the other asinine choice he ever made.
His regret over allowing Shuichi to go visit Kizou in Kita had nothing to do with the fact that the two of them used to be lovers. What was there to be jealous of? Shuichi chose him over that man didn't he? No, the problem was the man was as dangerous as a starving lion at a buffet. He was a mob boss guilty of ordering the deaths of countless people, drug trafficking, weapons possession, smuggling, dealing in prostitution and then there were his so-called "legitimate" business that included gambling halls, banks, restaurants and apartment complexes to name a few. He has been under investigation by the PSIA for years. Just because the Public Safety Intelligence Agency has never been able to find any solid evidence to convict the man did not mean anything.
Having any sort of association with someone like Kizou was dangerous, but what if what Shuichi believed was true? What if Kizou was indeed the biological father of little Takanori?
Eiri shook his head. No. That was impossible. It had to be.
"Back off," Taki barked. He was glad his voice did not betray how terrified he actually was of this dude. Inside he was trembling like a leaf. "If he's pregnant I have the right to know!"
Oh, God! I do not do this, Shuichi silently begged.
"If he's far enough along that he's thinking of getting an abortion, than that rules you out as the father, Romance Man," he snapped, poking a finger into Eiri's chest. He was gaining more confidence as he went along.
Shuichi's head snapped up and he paled, this time for a different reason. What? Oh gods no. His stomach churned. This was not happening. Shuichi had always known, but he had not wanted to face the truth.
Taki smirked smugly at the stunned writer. "And ever since Kizou had testicular cancer, Man Land just has not been the same," he pouted.
Eiri slowed to a stop at a red light.
When that ass from ASK made such a presumptuous statement, everyone had believed him. They all just assumed that Kizou was unable to have children, but what if they leapt to the wrong conclusion? If Eiri was to believe Shuichi's claim that they were the only two other than him who he had ever slept with, then by a process of elimination, if it wasn't Taki then Kizou had to be little Takanori's biological father.
He was not sure he particularly cared about that fact.
A squeal had him looking into the rearview mirror. He smiled at the sight of his son who was strapped into his booster seat behind him.
Well, in the end it did not really matter who fathered little Takanori because…
"I-don't-care. I'm not going to get a paternity test done just to prove who fathered my son. You are his father and that is all that matters."
Still…
His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
…it did not mean he had to like the idea of his baka, his pregnant baka mind you, traveling all alone to Kyoto. He knew he should have gone with him, but all Shuichi had to do was give him that look and he found himself caving in to all of Shuichi's whims.
When the light turned, green, he blew through the intersection.
That still did not mean that he was jealous.
II
The Trinity Offices - Setagaya, Tokyo
At one time, the idea of a true intersexed person was thought to be impossible. It was laughable to think that a person could be born with perfect, fully functioning male as well as female parts. Thanks to a one-hundred and fifty year old manuscript that was found in the bottom of a steamer trunk in a forgotten corner in the attic of some elderly woman's house somewhere in Upstate New York, what used to be nothing more than a fantastical element in stories was now part of reality.
Oh how she wished that old woman had tossed her historical find into the trash.
You could call them by whatever name you preferred, but a Neutral by any other name was still going to be nothing more than the immorally sinful, wicked creatures that it was. Though their existence had still to be acknowledged by Islamic nations as well as several Christian sects, the existence of the Neutrals fast become a natural part of society, for some people anyway. For others like her, they knew the truth hidden behind the deceitful lies.
She would be the first to admit that she may have a slight problem with seeing the so-called "third sex" as anything more than an abomination and a plight upon the world. They were what was wrong with the world today. If Neutrals were eliminated, so many of the problems that corrupted this planet would be alleviated. How could they be considered anything close to Man's equal? There was no way around it. It was obvious that God had placed his trust in the wrong people when these-these…things were conceived into this world.
Her phone buzzed.
"Yes?"
"Ms. Mataguchi," her secretary's soft voice called over the speakerphone. "There is a Ms. Usami on the line for you?"
"Thanks, Kana." Nami Mataguchi picked up the receiver. Her hand hovered over the button flashing red. It was trembling. Whether it from excitement over the fact that her challenge had actually been accepted or if it was due to something else she was not sure. Straightening her back, she cleared her throat. Taking a deep breath, she plastered a smile on her face even though she knew the caller would not be able to see it. "Hello Ms. Usami," she said cheerfully into phone. "I take it you heard the good news?"
oOo
Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
She replaced the handset into its cradle.
Finally all of her hard work was coming to fruition. This was something she has been striving for for the past three years. She would prove what a fallacious slanderer Shuichi Shindou was. That man-No, he was not a man. He was a thing. A mutation. A misuse of flesh and blood. A waste of space. He was no more than the toxins that polluted the air they breathed, the land they walked and the water they drank. He was something that should never have been given human life. It did not matter what it took or how long, she always gets what she wanted. This was not going to be any different.
Her grip around the phone tightened.
"Ayaka honey?"
The contorted harsh lines smooth out. "Yes, Mother," she called out over her shoulder.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
With a flourish of her brown skirt, Ayaka turned to greet her mother; an aging woman in her mid-sixties that despite the steel gray hair secured atop her head in a traditional Japanese bun and the wrinkles was still beautiful.
"Have you seen your father?"
"I believe he went to visit Mr. Uesugi."
Her mother clucked her tongue in disappointment. "Those men," she breathed heavily. "Gossiping like a couple of women."
Ayaka giggled.
Her mother retreated down the hallway towards the kitchen.
As soon as her mother vanished through the swinging door, the smile vanished from Ayaka's face. Glancing over her shoulder at the now silent phone, she fisted her hands into tight balls of fury. Things would continue as planned. There was no doubt in her mind. In the off chance that something unexpected arose, there were always her contingency plans. One way or another, she would get what she wanted.
She reached into the breast pocket of her white blouse and pulled out a small photograph not was much larger than the width of her hand. Her face softened as she gazed at the boy in the picture who had his arm around her tiny shoulders and a big goofy grin on his face. Her finger traced his blond hair.
"I can wait no longer…Eiri."
oOo
Aizawa Residence - Tokyo, Japan
It's been an hour. That was how long Tohma has sat behind the wheel of his car in front of the childhood home of Taki Aizawa where his parents still resided. Apparently, after the death of his son, Taki's father wanted to move. The memories of his only son who lost his life when he stepped into the street directly into the path of an oncoming car had been too much for him to bear, but the mother would not hear of it. So they had remained in the house where they had lived with their only child where they were sure to forever remember him.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. It was the only indication that hinted that he was not fully in control.
How was he supposed to ask for a sample of their deceased son's DNA in order to prove that he was indeed the one who fathered little Takanori? What if they consented and the results were that their grandson was not their grandson as they had been lead to believe these past two and half years. It would be a devastating blow.
Tohma took a deep breath to clam the raging emotions within him.
It had to be done. That DNA sample was a necessity. One way or another he had to obtain it.
His decision made, he yanked his keys out of the ignition and grabbed his cellphone from its resting place in the cup holder. Opening the car door, he stepped out onto the sidewalk. The intense summer heat greeted him immediately. Sweat glistened in the bright summer sun along his forehead. Closing the car door behind him, he used the buttons on his key fob to set the car locks. A double beep echoed into the quiet neighborhood when he set the car alarm. With his phone safely tucked into the inner pocket of his suit coat and his keys pocketed, he straightened the collar of his suit coat before walking up to the gate. He rang the buzzer.
It did not take long before the door creaked open. A woman who looked remarkably like Taki Aizawa studied him from the safety of her shaded stoop. "Yes?"
"Mrs. Aizawa?" he questioned.
"Yes," she answered uncertainly.
"Ma'am, I'm Tohma Seguchi."
Her dark eyes brightened in instant recognition. "Oh, yes, sir, Mr. Seguchi. What can I do for you?"
"Is your husband at home?"
"Yes he is." A mask on confusion slid over her face.
"Do the both of you have a minute? There is something I need to speak with the two of you about."
She looked hesitant. "What is this about?" she asked in suspicion.
"Your son."
oOo
Kyoto, Japan
It happened when he was twenty-eight, a full fifteen years before Kizou would meet Shuichi Shindou.
It started as an ache in his abdomen, but because this happened so often, he thought nothing more about it. He figured that if he ignored it, it would go away as it usually did and within a day, the pain in his belly indeed vanished. Then not long after, he started to grow nauseous. Again, he ignored the symptoms. Like the belly ache, being nauseous was not anything new, especially if he was forced to be awake particularly early in the morning when he was used to sleeping in until sometime mid-afternoon. When he started vomiting, he chalked it up to something he'd eaten. It would not be the first time. At the same time, he'd began noticing a mild pain in his scrotal area, but it was not until Hasumi was giving him a full body massage one night that he realized just how serious these minor health issues actually were.
A week later, he was diagnosed with stage one seminomas testicular cancer.
After discussing the pros and cons of each, he opted to have surgery and then a round of radiation. However, according to his doctor, statistically he would have an eight-two percent chance of fathering children, it was better to be safe then sorry, so he took his doctor's advice and stored some of his sperm at a sperm bank beforehand.
"Having an orchiectomy rarely interferes with male sexual function or fertility; the remaining testicle produces enough sperm and hormones for normal sexual activities and reproduction."
Though he was warned that radiation therapy does interfere with the production of sperm.
"But you don't need to worry. Most patients are able to recover fertility after one or two years. You should be fine."
"Should" was the key word here.
Two months later, surgery removed the cancerous growth and several rounds of radiation starting a week after that had ensured that what remained of the cancer cells were eliminated.
It was not long afterwards that he was pronounced cancer free, a complete remission.
But not everything had been a success. It seemed as if the eighteen percent failure rate had overpowered the eight-two percent success rate at being able to father children, for even five years after undergoing treatment for testicular cancer, Hasumi was still not pregnant.
Discouraged, she insisted he go see his doctor and after an initial examination and a semen analysis, it was determined that he had less than 12.5 million sperm per milliliter, meaning he had a very low sperm count. Only a quarter of men in his position are able to impregnate their partners. It was a devastating blow to the already disheartened couple. Ultrasounds, testicular biopsies, blood and genetic tests could have been performed to discover the underlining cause, but it was obvious what had hampered his ability to impregnate his wife: the radiation therapy he underwent when he had testicular cancer.
The only option opened to them at that point was in vitro fertilization.
Another set back occurred when the sperm bank where he stored his sperm before he underwent treatment had been misplaced. It might have been gone, but they did not allow that to stop them from having a child.
…Five tries later, there was still no baby. Disheartened and disillusioned and on the verge of giving up, he was able to convince Hasumi to give it one last try, but it was all for naught. Once again, the procedure failed. Depressed and convinced that if she stayed with him, she would never be able to have a child, Hasumi filed for divorce. Ironically enough, it was five years to the day he was diagnosed with stage one seminomas testicular cancer.
Ten years later, he met Shuichi Shindou.
When he discovered that Shuichi was pregnant, what he would not have given for the child to be his! God knew how much he has wanted a child. He wanted it more than anything else. When he and Hasumi were trying to have a baby, he even went so far as to make a deal with God. If He could bless them with a child, he would retire from this lifestyle and become an honest Japanese citizen. Alas, it was not to be. After his wife left, he'd had his share of lovers, both female as well as the odd neutral, and even though they'd never used any kind of protection, he had never impregnated any of his partners.
It came down to one thing: he was unable to have children. There was no other explanation. According to his doctor and going by the results of the numerous tests he had been subjected to, though low in number, he did indeed have eager little soldiers ready for deployment. But if that were the case, then why hadn't his wife become pregnant? Why would a foolproof procedure like in vitro fail five times in a row? No, it was obvious what the problem was. No matter what the doctors and their tests claimed, he just could not become a father. Therefore, no matter how much he wanted it, it just was not possible.
The child Shuichi was carrying may not have been his, but instead of humiliating Shuichi as he did that day, he could have allowed Shuichi and the child to remain with him. He could have adopted the child as his own, pretended, much like that Eiri Yuki person did, but he knew that was not going to work. As much as Shuichi cared for him, it was obvious that the boy was head over heels in love for his new lover. Besides, the last thing he wanted was to drag another innocent child into this seedy underbelly of society.
It was for the best.
Distantly he was aware of the phone ringing, but his mind was elsewhere. Besides, Narata knew that unless it was an emergency, he was not to be disturbed.
He reached out for the picture frame on the nightstand just as a streak of sunlight found an opening in the blinds closed over the window above his bed. It reflected off the protective glass shield, veiling the image.
When there was a polite rap on his door, he scowled.
"Boss," came the unexpected voice. "Phone call from Hong Kong, sir. They said it's urgent."
Of course it was. When wasn't it?
Growling lightly, he flipped over onto his back and scrubbed his hands over his face.
"Boss?"
Tossing back the covers, he sat up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, padded naked to his dresser where he threw on a pair of jeans and a plain black T-shirt.
Narata raised his hand to knock again when the door opened forcefully.
"This had better be good," Kizou growled as he stalked bare foot through the house to his office.
Sweating, Narata followed him.
oOo
Uesugi-Sakuma Residence - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
With the steaming cup of tea clasped between his hands, Ryuichi Sakuma stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him. Seating himself on the railing, he raised the cup to his lips. The steam rising from the cup eclipsed his face. He breathed in the sweet aroma of the pomegranate black tea. The hot liquid trickled down his throat as he took a tentative sip.
"You going to tell him?"
Ryuichi shook his head. "No."
"But he's his-!"
"I know."
Tatsuha sighed.
"He gave up his rights…to our son…when he…" Ryuichi's throat closed over. "When he tried to…"
Tatsuha was right. Tatsuha was always right.
"You hate him. I get it."
"Do you?" Ryuichi rounded on his long time lover. "Do you really?"
Tatsuha chose to ignore that. "He's the mother of your son!" he protested.
"Yeah, the son he very nearly killed," Ryuichi shot back.
Bringing a leg up, he leaned back against the side of the building and took in the sight of the city.
"We had one night. That's it."
"Yeah, but that one night linked the two of you together for the rest of your lives," Tatsuha reminded his lover.
Ryuichi said nothing.
"Whether you like it or not, Ryuichi Sakuma, Yuki Kitazawa is going to a part of your life till the day you die because he is the mother of your son. You don't have to like him. Nobody's saying you have to. You're going to have to just grin and bear and grow the fuck up."
He just did not know what to do.
"…Are you going to tell him the truth? It's not like there's anything keeping you from telling him," Tatsuha pushed into the silence. "Not anymore. Not like there was."
Ryuichi dropped his head back and stared up at the clear summer sky.
III
Aizawa Residence - Tokyo, Japan
The couple sat in stunned silence in the living room of the house where they had raised their now deceased son.
"Mr. Seguchi…" Mrs. Aizawa spoke softly. She was unsure as to why she had spoken for she was unsure of what to say. Nothing they were just told made any sense. No matter how she tried to manipulate it in her head, she could not make heads or tails out of any of it. "Just…what are you saying?"
On the sofa across from them sat Tohma Seguchi, appearing somber and regretful. When he spoke, his voice was soft. His hands were clasped in his lap. "I am truly sorry for having to-"
"I had a feeling," Mr. Aizawa spoke up suddenly.
His wife turned towards him. "Masato?"
Masato Aizawa raised his head. He stared directly into the light eyes of the man sitting before him. "Alright. Whatever you need."
His wife shot to her feet. "Masato," she cried in disbelief. How could he believe the word of some man they did not even know? She did not care who Tohma Seguchi thought he was and she did not care. How dare this man waltz into her home and make such outrageous claims?
Tohma inclined his head in gratitude. "Thank you. I know it cannot be easy."
"Masato!" Now she was fuming. "How can you-?"
"Oharu." Masato turned towards her. It was said softly.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Oharu stalked out of the room in a huff. As soon as she was out of earshot of her husband and their guest, she burst into tears. She muffled her sobs into her apron.
Masato sighed. He was not angry with her at her outburst. How could he be? Being told that their only son's only child may not be their grandchild was not an easy statement to hear. What he wanted the least was it to turn out to be true. But what if it was? "Just…tell us when and where."
"Thank you," Tohma said softly as guilt swirled within him.
oOo
Black Dragon Compound - Kita-ku, Kyoto, Japan
Started by Kizou after his father died in a car accident when he was a second year in middle school, the Black Dragons started out as nothing more then a group of friends who could not seem to keep out of trouble. Back then "trouble" meant skipping class, talking back to the teachers and other administrative officials, breaking the strict school rules and policies, getting into fights (both on campus and off), stealing women's purses and men's wallets. It naturally snowballed from there. Little by little, they expanded their empire, taking out one group after another and absorbing their members into their own. They started dabbling in narcotics and drug trafficking, smuggling of illegal weapons and prostitution. Then there were the various legitimate businesses. There was not anything in Kyoto that the Black Dragons did not have their hands in in some fashion. What at one point had been nothing more than a group of juvenile delinquents had swiftly become a force to be reckoned with.
Like all of the various Yakuza groups though, the name "Black Dragons" was only a pseudonym. The group's real name was known to only its innermost circle. Most of the members of the Black Dragons themselves were unaware of what the group's real name was.
But he knew. Oh, yes, he did. Shuichi Shindou knew many of the Black Dragon's secrets. When dealing with the mob, they sometimes had a habit of forgetting that their little sex kitten had a brain in his head. Like when there was a child in the room, you had to be careful about what came out of your mouth. Otherwise, things best left in the shadows came spiraling out into the light of day. Out of the mouths of babes, as the saying went. Many of the secrets that he was privy to could bring down Kizou's little band of misfits in a single, swift stroke. What the PSIA wouldn't give to get inside his head. If only they knew.
The Black Dragons have been under investigation for many years now by various agencies around the world, including the Public Security Intelligence Agency here in Japan as well as Interpol and the FBI in America. All of the countless investigations over the years have proven to be fruitless ventures though. They could dig and dig and dig until their hands were red, raw, and bleeding, but they would never find anything to back up their suspicions because Kizou made sure there was no proof. He was no imbecile. All the agencies investigating the Black Dragons have nothing to go on but their knowledge that you did not become part of the Yakuza family by helping little old ladies across the street, though the Black Dragons were known for that as well. Without evidence to back up the charges, a Grand Jury was not going to indict a suspect.
Shuichi rounded the corner and came to a halt.
Before him, standing proudly at the top of the hill like a sentry guarding over the city was what had once upon a time been a Buddhist Temple, but that had been over half a century ago. For reasons that were still unclear, the Temple was abandoned virtually overnight not long after it's founding. It'd sat abandoned on the outskirts of the city until Kizou purchased it about twenty years ago. It had fallen into serious disrepair and had cost close to a fortune to bring it back to its state of glory. Some tried to talk him into tearing the old Temple down. It would cost less to rebuild from scratch. Others tried to talk him into buying a house somewhere else, for fear of the grounds being cursed, but Kizou wouldn't hear of it. So a year after he purchased it, Kizou was finally able to move into the converted ex-Temple. Ironically, it was not long afterwards that Kizou was diagnosed with stage one seminomas cancer
Shuichi ghosted his hands over his belly. He could not remember a time when he was more nervous. He could only imagine the look on Kizou's face when he found the lover he had forcibly kicked out two years earlier on his doorstep, pregnant.
What had been an attempt at lightning the mood fell flat.
Taking a deep breath, he fixed the strap of his black messenger bag and took one tentative step forward and then another and another.
oOo
Ryugan Temple - Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
The phone's shrill ring continued to echo down the hall.
"Can you get that dear? My hands are full of batter." An older woman's voice emanated through the still house.
"Yes, Mama," replied a younger sounding female voice. Stepping out of the kitchen where she and her mother were baking cookies, Ayaka was drying her hands with a white kitchen towel as she marched purposefully down the hall towards the phone. She draped the towel over her shoulder and picked up the phone mid-ring. "Hello, Usami residence. This is Ayaka speaking."
There was silence. Then a male voice spoke, "Oh! I'm sorry. Wrong number."
Ayaka pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down at the receiver when she was greeted with the dial tone. "O-kay."
"Who was it?" her mother called from the kitchen.
"Nobody Mama. Wrong number." Replacing the receiver in its cradle, Ayaka yanked the towel off her shoulder and returned to the kitchen.
oOo
Location Unknown
He was alone in a room packed to the ceiling with various electronic equipment. It would remind an outsider of a hoarder's house. There was a narrow path that cut through the clutter (or "crap" as his boss put it) that led from the door to the workstation. Trying to maneuver your way through the rest of the cramped office was like trying to get into Jakarta, Indonesia in a timely manner: impossible (1). The U-shaped desk before him was covered with half a dozen computers and an assortment of other knick-knacks. Each computer monitor showed something different: some with documents, others with formulas. Sitting behind the desk was a man in his early thirties with dyed blond hair that tickled the collar of his plaid button down shirt. A silver hands-free headset was secured around his ear. This left both of his hands free to do what he did best. His dark eyes sparkled from behind a pair of black rimmed glasses.
"Found you," he whispered with a pleased smirk.
oOo
Sakuma-Uesugi Residence - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Ryuichi heard the distant sounds emanating from the kitchen. The clinking of glasses. The clattering of dishes. The rattling of silverware. The banging of pots and pans. The heavy footsteps on the tiled floor. The opening and closing of cupboards. The cacophony of noises dimmed as he strolled down the hall away from the kitchen to the master bedroom. The noise dimmed even more when he shut the bedroom door behind him. Rounding the bed and skirting the dresser, he stopped before the closet door. Sliding the pocket door into the wall, he stepped into the dimly light space and slid the door shut behind him. The darkness swallowed him. Striding forward cautiously, he reached out blindly for the pull string. Finding it after some fishing, he yanked on it. Immediately the closet was flooded with light.
Hidden on the top shelf in the back of the closet, concealed beneath assorted articles of clothing was a shoebox. Just before he unearthed it, he glanced over his shoulder and listened attentively. It was muted, but he could still hear Tatsuha in the kitchen.
Good.
Pulling the box out of its hiding spot, he settled on the floor with it on his lap.
The shoebox was a rather large one. Once upon a time, it held a pair of black snowboard boots, which had since been misplaced. He was not sure what happened to them. A month before he (and the rest of L8r Records) discovered Yuki was pregnant with Shuichi, the executives at L8r Records sent him, Tohma and Noriko to Happo One-that is said to be the jewel among Hakuba Valley's five skiing resorts-on a promotional venture. He'd purchased the boots at some shoe store-that has since gone out of business-a week before the trip. By the time he returned home from Happo, the boots were gone. Oh, well. No big loss. He hadn't particularly cared for the boots anyway. Even though they had been a size too large, they had pinched his feet something fierce. Their shoebox had come in handy since, though it was more tape then cardboard now. Maybe it was time for a new one. If Tatsuha had his way, he would toss the box, as well as its contents, into the trash.
Lifting the lid off the shoebox, he set it on the hardwood floor behind him. Reaching inside the shoebox, what he pulled out first turned out to be a photograph.
In the background was a dirty brick building with someone's version of artistic freedom covering its façade. Leaning against the driver's side door of a black Mustang with arms crossed over a bare chest, was a young man who appeared to be at least twenty years old. In actuality, this twenty year old had been more like sixteen around the time the photo was taken. His jean-clad legs were stretched out before him. His ankles were crossed. Smiling smugly into the camera, his mused black hair was a glint with golden highlights. The yellow color contrasted sharply against the natural darkness of his hair. And maybe it was his bias, but there seemed to be a sinister gleam in those violet eyes.
The photograph had been taken somewhere in New York City the summer before the two of them met backstage after one of Nittle Grasper's concerts at Radio City Music Hall. That brief encounter would turn out to be the catalyst that would change both of their lives.
Nittle Grasper had quickly gained quite a name for itself in North America thanks to several of their songs being featured in a popular anime. While they were virtual unknowns to the mainstream populace, they had quickly become an underground sensation. Their manager at the time had decided to cash in on their rising popularity by agreeing to a series of concerts at a series of conventions around the United States and Canada. It was at the Ani-Con in New York City where he met Yuki for the first time.
Yuki confessed later that he had not even known what a "Nittle Grasper" was when he bought the tickets to the Anime Convention. He hadn't had any idea what a "manga" or what an "anime" was either. Just because he was Japanese did not mean anything. He had been born and raised in America just as his parents and grandparents had been before him. His girlfriend was the huge anime fan he claimed. She was the one who pressured him into buying the tickets. The night before Nittle Grasper was to take the stage as part of the opening ceremonies, though, he found out she had been cheating on him with his best friend. Instead of dumping her right then and there, he decided to go to the concert anyway. He just forgot to mention to his girlfriend that she was no longer coming with him. At the concert hall, he simply gave his extra ticket away to some old man who had been looking for a ticket for his granddaughter.
It was not until Nittle Grasper walked on stage did Yuki start to understand his girlfriend's obsession. His began the moment he laid eyes on Ryuichi Sakuma for the very first time.
Yuki said he'd been determined to get backstage to meet him, but with the heavy security, he thought it would be an impossible fete, but would chance it anyway. Even if he were caught, it would be better than spending the rest of his life wondering "what if". Ryuichi had not been able to fault that logic, even today. As it turned out, there had been virtually no security, making it easy for Yuki to slip backstage. No one had given him so much as a second glance amidst the chaos.
From the very beginning, he told Tatsuha that while Cupid's arrow hit its mark with Yuki, the god of love had missed him. The arrow had gone right over his head. Looking back as the man he was now and knowing what occurred because of their brief rendezvous, he did not want to believe that he'd had any sort of special feelings for Yuki. How could he? The man was clearly suffering from some psychosis. Why else would he threaten to jump if Ryuichi did not promise right then and there that they could be a family?
"Love me! Ryu! Love me!"
Those words continued to echo in Ryuichi's head to this day, haunting him. How could he love someone like that? How could he have any sort of feelings for someone like that? For years, he even succeeded in convincing himself that his attraction to Yuki had been nothing but purely physical. Oh, how he wished that were the case. He would like nothing more than to believe that he felt nothing but contempt for Yuki Kitazawa, but if he wanted to be completely open and honest with himself, he would have to admit that was not accurate. It was because he had fallen in love with a boy three years his senior that he found himself feeling such hatred towards him now.
After Nittle Grasper's set at the opening ceremonies at the Ani-Con, he'd walked off stage with Tohma and Noriko in tow and there he was, leaning casually against the far wall and trying not to look nervous, trying to act as if he belonged. There'd been something about this mysterious boy that had drawn him in. Then, as if sensing eyes on him, the boy had raised his head. Over the sea of bodies, their eyes met. It was only for a second, but it seemed to last for an eternity. He'd forgotten who he was, where he was, everything and everyone except for the owner of those incredible violet eyes, eyes that their son had inherited. They were what would do him in. But at this particular encounter, their security personnel, who appeared literally from out of nowhere Yuki said later, swept him, Tohma and Noriko out of the building before he had the opportunity to speak to the boy with the beautiful eyes. When he'd glanced back, the boy was nowhere to be seen, lost amidst the anarchy. And that was that. He and the others had been pushed into their limo and driven to the airport where they caught a flight back to Japan. He'd thought he would never see that handsome older boy again.
How wrong he had been.
Ryuichi sighed heavily. Falling backwards, he draped an arm over his brow and stared unblinkingly up at the ceiling with the photograph still clasped in his hand.
It should have been a warning sign. Looking back now, seeing Yuki backstage after their concert at Zepp Tokyo here in Japan mere weeks later should have forced him to slam on his brakes. It didn't though. He'd been too astonished to see him. To realize that the boy with the violet eyes he'd seen back in New York City was more than just a figment of his imagination had blown whatever misgivings might have been there out of his mind.
Lifting his hand, he stared at Yuki who was smiling down at him.
"Whether you like it or not, Ryuichi Sakuma, Yuki Kitazawa is going to a part of your life till the day you die because he is the mother of your son. You don't have to like him. Nobody's saying you have to. You're going to have to just grin and bear it and grow the fuck up."
Tatsuha was right.
Once upon a time he may have had feelings for Yuki and even though that all changed in an instant when Yuki threatened to jump from the roof of L8r Records, which would have killed not only him but the child he was carrying, Yuki Kitazawa was still Shuichi's mother.
"Dammit," he cursed with a hiss.
He was startled out of his musing by a sudden buzzing that echoed throughout the condominium.
"Ryu," though muffled, Tatsuha's voice still reached to where he was hiding, "Eiri's here!"
Sitting up, Ryuichi stared down at the photograph in his hand as he heard the sound of muffled voices.
oOo
TCN Studios - Setagaya, Tokyo, Japan
The high back, black leather office chair squeaked as Chishin reclined backwards behind his cinnamon and slate L-shaped desk in the executive office of the President of TCN Network. He heaved a tired sigh. Swiveling his chair around, he stared out the floor to ceiling, two way, mirrored window that overlooked the bustling street below.
Idiot. That was what was going through his mind over and over again.
Agreeing to Nami's request last night was the biggest mistake he's made since taking over the floundering Christian Network. When she threatened to take her services elsewhere unless he complied, he should have just let her. It was not the task of this network to promote bigotry, prejudice or hatred of any kind. The mission of The Christian Network was to communicate the teachings and the beauty of the Christian faith and to help people grow in their love and understanding of God and His infinite mercy (2). For wasn't it written in Leviticus 19:18? "Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself"? Yes, it was definitely a mistake to continue to be manhandled like a marionette.
Nami Mataguchi's abhorrence of the Neutrals as well as her dedication to slandering Shuichi Shindou and Eiri Yuki's good names went against everything this station stood for.
A buzz sounded behind him.
Chishin swung his chair around. "Yes," he called over the intercom.
"Sir, there is an Isoroku Tokudaiji on the phone for you," replied his secretary's voice.
That was quick, he thought. Aloud he said, "Thank you." Picking up the phone, he pressed the flashing red button. "Hello! Isoro?"
"Hey, Chishin," came the tired sounding masculine voice over the line.
He met Isoroku Tokudaiji back in high school through a mutual friend. "You sound tired."
A yawn was his answer. "Seeing as I've been up since, uhm, five yesterday morning, tired is an understatement, but it was worth the lack of sleep-"
"You found something," Chishin interrupted. His excitement was mounting.
"That I did."
Mentally cheering and quite literally at the edge of his seat, Chishin's grip on the phone tightened. "And?" he prodded.
"What I used was a-well, that doesn't matter," Isoroku interrupted himself. "Anyway," he continued without a pause, "I was able to procure Nami Mataguchi's phone records for the past two years for both her cellphone as well as her number at The Trinity-and if you ask me how I will have no choice but to kill you-and I searched through those to find the numbers that she called the most, but that yielded the same old same old: her parents in Akita, older sister in Kagoshima, younger brother in Aichi…"
Same old Isoroku. How he was able to say all that in one breath was beyond him.
"So I thought maybe she doesn't call them. Maybe they call her. So I went back through her phone records and this time I found it." Isoroku sounded excited.
"Found what?" Chishin had to admit, he was too.
"'Who', my dear Chi-Chi," Isoroku corrected. "I found the 'who'."
"And who did you find?"
"Usami. Ayaka. Usami."
Before he could stop it, a gasp escaped passed Chishin lips.
"I take it you know her?"
It was as if all his energy was sucked out of him at once. Chishin collapsed back into his chair. "A-are you sure?" His voice came out barely above that of a whisper.
There was a noise over the line that clearly expressed Isoroku's disgust with the question. "Of course I am. So who is she?"
"Sh-she…" It did not have to mean anything. Could be just a simple coincidence. It happened. Somehow, he was not buying that explanation though. But if Ayaka Usami was indeed the force behind Nami's crusade…
"She what? Come on man! I did not lose a night's sleep for free. Who is she?" Isoroku demanded.
"Fiancée," Chishin muttered. He was beyond flabbergasted, but it made a sick sort of sense. Put her into the picture and it all finally started to make sense.
"Huh?"
"Ayaka Usami was supposed to marry Eiri Yuki," he explained in a stronger voice.
"No kidding?"
"Actually," Chishin corrected, "their fathers arranged for them to get married, but Eiri decided to marry Shindou instead."
"Well. Well. Interesting."
Chishin was not so sure that "interesting" covered it.
oOo
Park Axis Ochanomizu - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
With a "thank you" tossed kindly over her shoulder, Mai Shindou stepped off the bus and onto the sidewalk. The sweltering heat encased her immediately. Of course, she had to choose one of the hottest days of the year for this little fieldtrip. Lucky her. At least her husband was at work. He never would have allowed her to do this.
As the bus pulled away from the curb and started down the street where it vanished around the corner, she glanced at the unfamiliar surroundings, trying to get her bearings. She had no idea where she was. She hoped she hadn't gotten off at the wrong stop. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a lined sheet of paper that had been ripped out of a spiral bound notebook. She unfolded it and tried to read the chicken scratch scribbled on it. Her daughter's handwriting was atrocious. "Park Axis Ochanomizu," she read the unfamiliar name slowly. She glanced up from the paper at the buildings around her. They all looked alike. How was she supposed to tell which was which? "Excuse me," she called after a man in a business suit. "Can you tell me where the Park Axis Ochanomizu building is?"
"Oh, yes," he replied kindly and pointed across the street at a glass and metal high-rise building.
Mai breathed a sigh of relief. She had gotten off at the right stop. After thanking the man, she waited for a break in the traffic and darted across the street.
oOo
Ryugan Temple - Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
It was a beautiful day. Oh, yes it was.
Humming the wedding march happily, she strolled, practically skipping, around the koi pond behind the house, picking the flowers that grew wildly along the back wall. The bouquet's sweet fragrance tickled her senses. Maybe she could use these same flowers in her bridal bouquet. She was sure her grandmother would love it for it was her grandmother's grandmother who originally planted the flowers.
She giggled gaily. Never before had she felt as fortunate and ecstatic as she was at this moment.
Shindou was willing get the paternity test done.
But…
The smile slipped and the merriment she has been feeling since she received the news this morning died a quick death. Stopping her leisurely walk around the pond, she frowned into the colorful bouquet of flowers clutched in her small hand. She thought about what that could mean, really thought about it for the first time. As much as she did not want to think about the possibility, she could be wrong. That Aizawa guy could be the biological father of Shindou's son. It could explain why he was confident enough to agree to her challenge.
She shook the negative thoughts away.
No. She knew she was right. She had to be. It was not as if Shindou had agreed. No, he had caved in under the pressure. Why else would it have taken so long for him to agree to get the DNA paternity test done? If he had been so confident of his son's biological genes, he would have agreed right away, right? Yes, the statement that he released claimed that he had "nothing to prove". That no matter what the results came back as, "Eiri was little Takanori's father". So his reluctance could be chalked up to pride and stubbornness.
But…
What if she was?
No. It didn't matter, she decided. There were always other ways after all.
One way or another she would crush Shuichi Shindou and Eiri would be hers.
She wondered if Eiri would not mind having the ceremony here. Of course, her father would be the officiate. His father could not very well do it. First, though, before they could be married, he had to divorce that little whore of his. But that was an easy fix. Then, of course, there was that waiting period required by law…
Ayaka blinked down in confusion at the crushed flowers in her hand. How did that happen, she wondered.
oOo
Park Axis Ochanomizu - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
"May I help you?" asked a soft, but demanding voice from behind her.
Startled, Mai spun around. With a hand over her racing heart, she laughed lightly at being caught unawares.
Standing before her was a young girl about the same height as her son, though she wasn't as lithe as he was. Her hair had been pulled into a side ponytail, the long strawberry blond tresses hanging freely over her shoulder. Casually dressed in a way too short jean skirt, a black velvet zip up hoodie over a white T-shirt, black stockings and black leather heeled boots, she seemed to be scrutinizing her, as if trying to decide whether or not she belonged in the building or not.
"Is there something I can help you with?" the girl reiterated.
"Oh, uhm, well, I'm trying to find my son's apartment." Mai glanced down at the sheet of paper still clutched in her hand. "Apartment number 2108?" She glanced at the girl hopefully.
"You mean Shu?"
"Yes," Mai confirmed with a nod and a grateful smile. "Yes. That's him. Shuichi Shindou."
The girl crossed her arms over her chest and regarded her with suspicion. "You're Shu's mother?" It sounded as if she did not believe her.
"Yes I am." Technically, he was her son's son, thus making him her grandson, but when the executives at L8r Records decided that one of their rising stars was too young to become a parent (not too mention what it would do to their record sales if the news were to get out that Japan's newest teen idol had a kid), she had decided to adopt Shuichi and raise him as her own so that he would not become lost within the system.
Raise him as her own. She had to wince at that. After voluntarily taking her grandson into her house, she'd done a lousy job as a mother, hadn't she? But that was why she was here. Hopefully it wasn't too late to make things right.
"Funny. He always said his mother was locked away in some loony bin."
Mai blinked. "What?"
The girl continued to regard Mai with open hostility. "Look, I don't know what's going on here. I don't know if you're really Shu's mother or what and it's not really any of my business, but he hasn't been here since yesterday morning."
"He's not here?"
"Yeah. He left with a small overnight bag and said depending on how things went, he just might be moving out."
Mai mulled that over. Moving out? Did that mean that he and Eiri had gotten back together? One could only hope. "Thank you," she mumbled, half distracted by her thoughts, as she exited the building.
"He always said his mother was locked away in some loony bin."
What did that mean?
…To Be Continued…
(1) At the time I wrote this, apparently, this was a real problem in Indonesia.
(2) This is the real mission of EWTN, which is a Roman Catholic cable channel here in the States
A/N: Thought you guys would find this little factoid a little interesting. "With the ability to do early ultrasounds, we have learned that many pregnancies start out with two babies, but one is lost in the first few weeks. The loss is so early that even the woman does not know about it; without ultrasound, we would never have known this was happening." Found it on: .com (slash) pregnancy (dash) possible (dash) miscarry (dash) one (dash) .