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, Bashing
Pairings: Shuichi/Eiri, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, one-sided Eiri/Ayaka, Mentioned: Shuichi/Taki & Shuichi/OMC
Inserts: None
A/N: Enjoy!
oOo
Chapter 9: The Boomerang from Hell
Later That Evening - TCN Studios - Setagaya, Tokyo, Japan
A small portable radio sat behind the reception desk in the lobby of The Christian Network studios. Nobody could remember anymore to whom the radio belonged. Currently, it was tuned to local Christian radio station WLOF, known as the "Station of the Cross" (1). A soft Christian rock song trickled softly out of the speakers.
Isako Kinku looked up as the lobby doors opened. "Evening," she smiled.
The man approaching was clad in a brown uniform. He was carrying a package not much larger than a jewelry box and a clipboard. "Hello. I have a package here for Chishin Yamada. Sign here." He handed over the clipboard.
Kinku signed at the bottom. "Thank you," she smiled again and handed back the clipboard in exchange for the package.
"Have a nice day."
"You too." Kinku turned the small package over. There was no return address. That in and of itself was not surprising. Setting the package aside, she reached for the phone.
"Isa!"
Kinku looked up. A tall woman with blond dyed hair secured into a bun and wearing an olive green skirt suit was rushing towards her. The click clack of her black heels echoed loudly against the tiled floor. "Ririko."
Ririko Zenigata had not always been a friend. They hadn't even been acquaintances. Kinku couldn't even say honestly that they used to be rivals. In fact, when they hadn't been trying to avoid the other as humanly possible, despite working for the same small television studio, they used to butt heads quite often, but what else would you expect from two people who each believed "their God" was the one true god? Each believed it to be a blessing that neither had to deal with the other outside of work, until that was exactly what they'd been forced to do.
It was at a family gathering two summers ago. Her brother had arrived with his new girlfriend, who turned out to be none other than Ririko. She had no other option, at that point, then to swallow her malice for the over Christianized woman-she was sure she used a stronger word back then. If her brother was in love with this woman, if Ririko made her brother happy, then who was she to stand in their way? Six months later, they were married. Six months after that, Ririko came to her, crying, in the middle of the night. She'd walked in on her husband with another woman. Strangely enough, after that, they two became best friends.
"Turn on the news," Ririko was demanding in a breathless huff. "Turn on the news!"
"Why?" Kinku furrowed her brow in confusion.
"You know how there's been this whole…" Ririko flailed her hands about as she rushed around the reception desk and grabbed the radio, "…thing," she decided, "about who the father of Shuichi Shindou's child is and everything?" She fiddled with the dials until she came to one of the public broadcasting radio stations. "Well, I guess the results came back," she continued without waiting for an answer.
With her heart beating wildly within her chest, Kinku spun the chair around to face the other woman. She leaned towards her, her dark eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. "And?" she pressed eagerly.
"I don't know! They didn't-"
"And now we bring you to the press conference live from NG Productions," the DJ cut into their conversation.
Ririko shushed her. "It's starting," she whispered eagerly. Despite her skirt, she squatted down behind the reception desk besides Kinku.
Both women huddled around the radio.
Kinku turned up the volume.
"Thank you all for coming." The male spoke softly, yet there was something commanding about his voice. It made you sit up and take notice.
Kinku exchanged a knowing glance with Ririko.
"Tohma," the other woman mouthed.
Kinku nodded.
"As you may know, in response to the influx of demands all wanting to know who the biological father of one Takanori Eiri Uesugi is, Mr. Shuichi Shindou decided to order a DNA paternity test done. Earlier this afternoon, we received the results."
Both women held their breaths and pressed theirs ear to the speakers of the tiny portable radio.
oOo
It was too perfect.
Chishin felt the laughter bubbling up inside of him. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't stop it from bursting forth and once he started he could not seem to stop. All too soon, there were tears in his eyes and a stitch in his side.
"I don't think it's that funny, Yamada," said the male voice over the speakerphone. "After all, she was partially right."
Well, didn't that just suck the amusement out of the situation? Chishin rolled his eyes at the phone. "I don't think Nami being right about Aizawa not being the father is anything to worry about, Iso." Besides, one did not need to be a rocket scientist or have the results of a paternity test in hand to realize that something had been off with the claim that Taki Aizawa fathered Takanori Uesugi. It should have been obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes.
"No, but," Isoroku argued, "some people aren't going to be satisfied with the results. If Shindou lied about whom the father of his child was, then what else has he been lying about? This is just going to add fuel to the fire."
Chishin had to give Isoroku that. He made a valid point, but still. "Some people aren't going to be satisfied no matter what," he reminded his friend. Those people were in love with the sound of their voice. What other reason could these people have for speaking out against everything? "Besides, Mr. Seguchi's explaining about that right now."
"The father of Shuichi Shindou's child is a man named Rique Kizou." Tohma spoke the name of the half-Japanese half-French men carefully. "He and Mr. Shindou were together for many years, but he was never considered as a candidate because Mr. Kizou suffered from testicular cancer some years before he and Mr. Shindou…"
Isoroku hummed over the line. "Testicular cancer."
"It happens." Chishin was not sure if he personally knew anyone who had battled cancer, but he had friends who had relatives who had. It definitely was not an easy situation to deal with for anybody, whether it is the person with the cancer or a relative of said person.
Now, he did not know much about this particular cancer, but he did know that there was a possibility it could leave a man sterile. If both Shuichi and this Kizou guy believed that to be the case then of course they would never suspect that the child that Shuichi had conceived belonged to him.
"Yeah, but it seems-"
"Too convenient?" Chishin finished.
"Exactly."
Chishin sighed. Nothing to be done about that. People find out someone is lying and demand to know the truth, but when they are told the truth, the truth is so shocking that they automatically assume they are being lied to again. That just goes to show that most people, even though they say they want the truth, in actuality, want a pretty lie. Sometimes an untruth is easier to accept than the truth.
Speaking of which, he wondered how his old friend was taking the news.
oOo
The Trinity Offices - Setagaya, Tokyo, Japan
Well, Nami thought. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events. She definitely had not seen this one coming. However, the knowledge that she had been right-at least partially-had her doing a happy jig in her chair-or at least mentally. Despite the surprise outcome, she was satisfied. After all, she'd only set out to prove that Shuichi Shindou lied about the father of his child-that was her story and she sticking to it-and the results of the paternity test proved just that…Well, guess it really depended on how you looked at it. Can someone truly lie if what he or she knew at the time was not the whole truth? Or so the claim was being made. Whether or not that was the case was up for debate. Frankly, she did not care one way or another now.
Her prejudices with the so-called third sex were well known. After all, it was not as if she ever tried to hide them. She found them to be a disgrace, disgusting, immoral, a waste of human flesh…So on and so forth. But she was not about to storm their home in the middle of the night with torches and pitch forks, string them up the nearest tree while a mob curses and spits and beats them like a piñata or tie them to a fence in the middle of nowhere and beat them senseless and then maybe drag them down the street behind the car for miles. She was not that much of an idiot. As long as they left her alone, she would leave them alone. It was as simple as that.
If one of Them hit on her, it wasn't as if she went postal. Maybe slap him and call him a derogatory name or two.
Nami grabbed the remote, aimed it at the giant flat screen TV secured to the wall opposite her and pressed the red power button. The image on the screen froze and then faded to black.
Besides, she'd only seemed to be so obsessed with Shindou because, well, the truth of the matter was, she and Ayaka had come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. Of course, this little tidbit of information was on a need to know basis and at the moment, nobody needed to know. Unless your name was Chishin Yamada and you had friends in high places.
Speaking of which. That reminded her.
As she sat back, her eyes fell to the phone.
She wondered if Ayaka knew yet.
oOo
Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
Ayaka was not happy. She was not happy at all. This just would not do. Oh, no it would not. Nami had warned her that something like this might happen. She should have listened. Why hadn't she listened? Oh why had she ignored what had so obviously been sound advice from her very best friend? Well that was easy. Because she'd been so sure everything would work out in her favor. As far as she'd been concerned, there hadn't been any need to not be certain of the outcome. Her hopes had been so high that she'd been convinced that Nami's constant negativity would bring her down. So instead of embracing what had turned out to be sound advice, she'd basically told the girl to sod off.
No matter.
What's done was done. The past was the past. Nothing short of a time turner or another sort of time machine was going to aide her into doing anything about the past. What she could do something about was the future. Yes, the future. It hadn't been written as of yet. There was still hope. Oh, yes there was. As long as there was breath in her body, there was still a chance that everything would work out, maybe not exactly as she'd planned, but why argue over insignificant details? The desire for something did not die just because the road to it was blocked. If anything, it only intensified the desire. All you had to do was follow the detour around the blockade. If there wasn't one, then you had to create one. It was as simple as that.
As simple as that logic was, it did not cease the flood of bitter emotions sweeping through her.
The plan had been so simple, so easy. It'd been foolproof. All she thought she'd had to do in order to split Eiri and Shuichi up was prove that as a mate, Shuichi was undesirable. And what type of person was the least desirable? A liar. Who would want to share a bed with a liar? How could you trust someone who only knew how to spew untruths?
She should've known that her plan was too good to be true.
As the saying went, "If it's too good to be true, it usually is."
So deeply engrossed in her anger-fueled ministrations was she that the sudden cracking noise sounded like a gunshot in the otherwise silence of the house.
A reporter for the twenty-four hour news station she happened to land on when the news broke was now speaking to an expert in the field of cancer research.
"Oh yes," the man was saying. "It is certainly possible. Now I am not familiar with specifics of Mr. Kizou's case, but I had a patient a few years ago in a similar…"
Slowly, Ayaka shifted her unblinking gaze down at her clenched hand, which was in the process of strangling the life out of the television remote. Unfurling her hand, one finger at a time, she did not so much as grimace at the sight that greeted her. There was a fine spider web of cracks spiraling out from the lower portion of the remote. A particularly long crack raced up the center.
"-reporting live from outside NG Productions. Thank you Wakamiya."
With more difficulty than she thought possible, she tore her gaze from the destruction her anger had brought upon the innocent remote control, and glanced at the television.
"In other news, a police chase on Route 4 this morning had traffic tied up for hours. Take a look at this."
The picture changed from the live feed to a prerecorded one.
Ayaka squinted at the unsteady image that had obviously been captured from the inside of a vehicle of some sort. If the loud siren was anything to go by, she assumed the vehicle in question was a police cruiser. It was weaving in and out of traffic. There was the occasional vehicle that thought it was better than the rest of society, or maybe it knew something the rest of the world did not know, because it refused to pull over for the emergency personnel coming up fast behind them.
Judging by the scenery whizzing by along the sides of the screen, the chase was racing through some city that she could not identify.
"This was taken from the dash cam of an Arakawa police cruiser."
She watched in fascination as the cruiser continued to meander its way through the heavy traffic. At one point, the driver lost control and started to spin out, but thankfully, he was able to regain control before the car was flipped over into a ditch. That was when she caught glimpses of the other police cars.
The suspect vehicle, going well above the speed limit, suddenly swerved sharply to the right. It crossed several lanes of traffic, dodging any number of accidents just by sheer dumb luck, jumped the median and emerged on the other side going northbound. The problem was that traffic was heading southbound, towards the suspect vehicle.
Ayaka gasped in horror.
"Watch again. The suspect vehicle jumps the median into the southbound lane. He weaves around a semi onto the shoulder, but an SUV who'd decided to pull over, suddenly looms before him. Before either driver has a chance to doing anything, they collide head on."
Ayaka cringed away from the scene. It seemed worse in slow motion.
"The driver of the SUV walked away with a couple of broken ribs, a broken wrist and minor cuts and bruises, but alive. The suspect was not as lucky. He died later at the hospital.
"It had since been revealed that the suspect fled when cops attempted to pull him over for a broken taillight because apparently he was already out on probation and had empty beer bottles in his car."
As horrid as the ending of the chase was, it did give her an idea.
A sly grin crossed her face.
Oh, yes. This time it would work out. She was certain. Eiri will be hers.
oOo
On the hill behind the Usami residence, amidst the shadows, Shiho dozed lightly. It was the one drawback of being a mercenary. Since it was not a nine to five type of job, it was somewhat difficult to get those ten hours of sleep each night that was said a person needed to function. Despite the severe lack of sleep required to perform her duties, though, she would not change jobs for anything in the world.
What she could do without was the rude wake up calls.
Before she could fully comprehend what she was doing or what was happening, she'd snatched her gun from its thigh holster and had it cocked and aimed before she was even on her feet.
She blinked at the tall blond man before her. For several long seconds everything went still. Then the tension rushed out of her all at once. She released her pent up breath in an explosive sigh.
"K."
She started to lower her gun.
"Son of a…"
A tearing pain suddenly ripped through her head. It doubled her over. Pressing the heel of her free hand to her head, she hissed out a long series of colorful phrases through gritted teeth.
Why K could not greet someone as if he were a normal human being was beyond her. Honestly, this man was going to be the death of her one of these days.
Seemingly unconcerned with any injuries he possibly could have inflicted,-after all, she's lucky it was just a steel toed boot upside the head and not a Molotov cocktail shoved up her ass-the American demanded, "Where's the target?" How dare she fall asleep in the middle of an assignment?
"In the house," Shiho managed to spit out. "Goddamn it!" Her head felt as if it had been cleaved open. She bet she had a concussion. Despite it holding her gun, she brought her other hand to her head. "Where's she been all goddamn day." Damn him!
K shot a look through the trees to the Usami residence at the base of the hill, taking in every detail in a matter of moments.
"Where the hell did you come from anyway?" Shiho questioned. When the only reply was the cry of the squirrels and the chirping of the birds, she raised her head and frowned. "What the fuck?" Dropping her hands, she slowly stood up, wincing once as her head gave a particularly painful throb. "Where the hell did he go?" If she didn't know better, she would swear the man was a ghost.
oOo
It was way too quiet. That was what K noticed immediately as he crept up onto the side porch off the tatami room. He did not have a good feeling about this.
Drawing his trusted magnum, K flattened himself against the outer wall of the house besides the sliding door, which had been left open. He waited and listened. No movement. No sound. No nothing.
He did not like this. Not one bit.
Maybe the target was asleep. Entirely possible. Who would leave a door open if they were going out?
Someone who wanted his or her valuables stolen?
Ignoring that little voice in the back of his mind that continued to niggle at him, K slowly stepped into the house-not even bothering to remove his shoes.
Tatami room. Empty.
From there, he had a clear view into the kitchen. It too was empty. As was the first floor bathroom, or whatever the Asians called it.
Technically speaking, the "bathroom" was not what Westerners would call the bathroom. What you stepped into from the hall was called the dressing room. The only thing remotely bathroom-y in the room was the vanity and the storage closets. Sometimes, the toilet was in a separate room of its own. Sometimes it was located in the dressing room. The actual "bathroom" was a separate room off the dressing room in which was the bathtub.
From there he swept the living room. Empty. Warmth flooded through his hand when he touched the back of the television. Someone had been here not too long ago. It was just as Shiho stated.
Despite his large physique, K swept up the staircase to the second floor as silently as if he were a ghost. He cleared the second bathroom, three bedrooms and finally the attic.
The house was empty.
"Shit," he hissed with feeling.
The target was gone.
oOo
Shindou Residence - Kyoto, Japan
"How do you think this will affect Mr. Shindou's career? Having the father of his son being a Yakuza boss?" asked the reporter on the screen to one of her guests, an editor for some entertainment magazine. "Could Mr. Shindou's life, as well as that of his son, be in danger?"
"That's hard to say…"
Mai reached for the remote and shut off the television. Concern lining her face, she glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen at the phone she could just see from her position on the couch. She bit her lip, rubbing sweaty palms up and down her jean-clad legs.
"Could Mr. Shindou's life, as well as that of his son, be in danger?"
The thought of both her son as well as her grandson being placed in harm's way because some bitch with a fucked up view of neutrals could not leave well enough alone infuriated her. Before she had time to fully process what she was doing, she was flinging herself off the sofa and into the kitchen where she wrote her husband and daughter a quick note on the white board on the fridge and marched through the house to the front hall closet, grabbed her purse, slid her feet into her shoes and stalked out of the house like a mother on a mission.
II
En Route - Kyoto, Japan
There was a tumult of emotions coursing through the man known simply as K. The most prominent of those being anger. No, it wasn't anger he was feeling, or more accurately, the feeling raging through him was not so simple to identify. The closest he could come to describing the emotion was fury and even then it did not do the feeling justice. Even calling it a feeling was not right. It was more a state of being and it was currently eating him alive.
Never had he failed so miserably at an assignment. Actually, he'd never failed. Not once. Before today, there hadn't even been a single smudge or smear or black mark. His track record had been so clean you could have eaten off it. It had taken more years than Shiho has been alive to gain the level of respect and trust that he had and for it all to be destroyed in a single instant was unacceptable.
How could this have happened?
This violent feeling boiling within him screamed to be let out. It was slowly seducing him, luring him with sweet words and even sweeter promises. It was telling him that once unleashed, it would make him feel like a king!
Oh how tempting it was! Alas, not tempting enough.
Having his judgment clouded would not be an effective strategy to complete his assignment and he intended to see this assignment through to the end no matter the consequences.
He may have lost Ms. Usami, but it was a momentary glitch. He would find her and when he did-not if, but when-he would first thank her for being able to give him-him of all people-the slip, which he had to admit with a mixture of pride and annoyance, had never happened before.
"Bravo, Ms. Usami, bravo."
This once in a lifetime hiccup was to be praised, definitely, but he had every intention of never allowing it to happen again.
It did lead him to wonder if the target had known she was being followed. Could that be why she slipped out of the house unseen? Or was it a freakish accident? K was more inclined to believe that the target hadn't wanted to be seen leaving the residence by anyone at all. But why? Whether or not she was aware that she was being spied upon, her ability to shake them off had been a brilliant play. Under different circumstances, Ms. Usami could have become a very valuable addition to this ragtag band of miscreants. Shame.
With a smoldering cigarette clamped between his lips, his long blond hair pulled up into a ponytail and reflective shades over eyes bluer than the Mediterranean, he rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt as he waited at a red light. The straps of his shoulder holster squeaked as he moved. When the light changed, he floored the gas pedal. The car that some kind old man had been kind enough to allow him to borrow shot forward. The scenery became a blur of color.
He pressed a button on the rearview mirror that had a white phone etched onto it. "Call Tohma," he commanded. He signaled before switching lanes as the call was put through. It would not do to be pulled over on a traffic violation.
"Yes?" a soft-spoken male voice flowed into the car moments later.
"K here, sir."
"Status?"
K cringed. Never before has the urge to lie during a briefing been so strong. What the boss did not know would not hurt him right? Yeah, until it came back to bite you on the ass, came the thought. "Yellow, sir," he confessed. There was a long, silent pause. It caused K to squirm. He was more uncomfortable listening to the even breathing over the phone than he had been at his own wedding and that was taking his wife into account-who was even more psychotic than people claimed he was.
"Excuse me?"
Even though the tone of Tohma's voice did not change, it still sent a chill down K's spine. Suddenly, he was glad he decided to call. If this debriefing had been made in person, he might very well be minus his favorite body part right about now.
"The target, sir…she, uhm…we lost her. She's in the wind." He wondered if he sounded as pathetic as he thought he did.
In his office in Tokyo, Tohma leaned back in his chair. The leather squeaked. The springs creaked. He leaned his elbows on the arms of the chair and laced his fingers together before his lips.
"Uhm, sir?"
"Find her," Tohma replied simply and with calm he did not feel. He dropped his hands. "Find her. NOW!"
K jumped at the uncharacteristic yell. It caused the car speakers to buzz with static. "Yes! Yes sir." He slumped over, exhaling in relief as the line went dead. Tohma Seguchi just had to be the scariest man on the face of the planet. He answered his cellphone went it buzzed seconds later. "Yes?"
"Sir, I think I may know where the target is heading," came Shiho's voice over the car speakers.
"Where?" he demanded to know.
"Tokyo."
"What are you basing this from?"
"Results of a paternity test."
K cocked an eyebrow. "And?"
"They involve Shuichi Shindou's son."
K stilled his fingers that had been drumming on the steering wheel.
Normally, the specific details of a case mattered little to him unless they pertained directly to the job. If a husband hired him to off his wife, the why and what did not matter. All that concerned him was the when and how: when would be the best time and how should it be accomplished. There were times, though, when he felt he needed to know more about his client as well as the target. This had been the case this time.
The target was one Ayaka Usami. She was an only child. Father was a Buddhist monk who ran the Ryugan temple. Mother was a housewife. Preferred a quiet night at home with a good book to hitting the clubs. Non-smoker. Non-drinker. Reserved, but could be outspoken when she had to be. Did not have many friends. Had one obsession: her ex-betrothed Eiri Uesugi, known by the pseudonym Eiri Yuki, who just so happened to be married to Shuichi Shindou.
He understand how the target may see Shindou as a threat if she was as obsessed with Uesugi-or was it Yuki?-as he believed she may be. It was the reason why he had been hired to keep to an eye on the target in the first place. And watch her he did. Watched her walk right out the front door. But why would she go after Shindou now? What did this paternity test have to do with anything?
"I contacted a hacker friend of mine and he tells me that it appears as if the target's been speaking to a Nami Mataguchi a lot lately."
"That is?" And he should care…why?
"She's the owner of The Trinity. It's a Christian extremist magazine. Religious zealot. Complete nutcase. Ya know, one of those people who claim Harry Potter is evil because it promotes witchcraft and shit like that, but she's better known for her extreme abhorrence of neutrals. She's pretty outspoken in her beliefs and doesn't apologize for them. Lately, she seems to be obsessed with discrediting Shindou."
K latched onto this eagerly. That was very interesting, especially since Shindou happened to be married to the target's ex-fiancé. "So you're saying this whole paternity thing may have been a way to try and discredit him? Maybe cause discord between him and Yuki?"
"That's what my contact believes."
K expertly wove in and out of traffic as his mind worked fast and furiously. "You think they're working together then? The target and this Mataguchi chick?"
"Yes. My contact is almost positive."
Unfortunately, it made complete sense. He just wished it didn't. The target has proven to be smarter and more cunning than he'd initially given her credit for. Things could quickly escalate out of control.
K's curse flooded the silence that had filled the car. "Who's the closest?"
"D'Wayne."
"Get him on the phone."
"What about his assignment?"
"Reassign it. Cancel it. I don't care. Get. Him. There. Yesterday."
"Sir."
Ending the call, K placed a call to Tohma. "Where's Shindou," he demanded without any preamble.
Over the line, Tohma cursed.
oOo
Shindou-Uesugi Residence - Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Standing guard outside condominium N802, Yutoshi scowled.
This sucked. This sucked big time. As happy as he was that his boss was a father, a desire Kizou was forced to abandon due to circumstances beyond his control, the idea of his boss having said child with Shuichi Shindou of all people made him nauseous. The brat was-was…annoying!
Just when he thought he had rid himself of the incompetence and stupidity of the teenager, said source of constant irritation comes whirling back into his life like a boomerang from Hell.
"Dammit."
He was cursed. It was the only explanation. He wondered if it was too late to be blessed.
oOo
In the kitchen, Eiri was making tea for himself, Shuichi and their guest. As he was feeling too lazy to get the good tea mugs down from the top shelf, which any good host would have done, he'd decided to just use the coffee mugs. He did not feel the least bit guilty over their lackluster appearance. Why should he? Cups were cups. What did it matter if they were chipped or stained? Their guest should feel honored that Eiri was feeling gracious enough to offer him something at all.
Eiri was pouring boiling water from the stainless steel teakettle-its bottom was scorched thanks to a certain baka singer-into the three mugs when his son came stampeding into the kitchen. The toddler made a beeline straight for the refrigerator. Stretching up onto his tippy toes, he wrapped a small hand around the handle of the fridge and made a futile reach with the other to the freezer.
Eiri watched his son's antics with a cocked eyebrow. A smile twisted his lips. "What are you doing?" He kept his voice light and free from accusations. After all, he was merely curious as to what type of mischief the two year old was attempting to get into now.
"Can't reach." Little Takanori's voice came out strained.
"I can see that," Eiri observed with a light chuckle. When the mugs were filled nearly to the brim with the boiling water, he turned to the stove and set the kettle back down onto the back burner so that it was out of reach of his rambunctious son. "Do you want some help?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He strode across the travertine-tiled floor to the stainless steel refrigerator.
Little Takanori stepped aside as his daddy opened the freezer without any difficulty.
Eiri did not have to ask what it was his son wanted from the freezer. He grabbed a red freezie-pop off the shelve on the door and using a pair of scissors from the butcher block sitting on the counter along the wall besides the sink, he snipped the top off. "Here you go," he said as he handed the icy treat to the toddler. He tossed the snippet of plastic into the garbage.
With a thank you tossed over his shoulder, little Takanori raced out of the kitchen into the living room where he was watching Blue's Clues.
At least little Takanori has some manners, Eiri thought with an amused shake of his head as he stepped into the pantry where the tea was kept. There were at least a dozen different varieties to choose from thanks to Shuichi. He decided on herbal, seeing it was the only box opened, and grabbed three teabags. He placed a teabag into each of the mugs, making sure the tag was hanging over the lip of the cup. Instantly, the water began turning a dark amber color. The aroma wafting up out of the mugs was delicious. Placing the mugs onto the whicker tray besides the plate of teacakes they'd purchased the other day from the bakery located-conveniently-down the street, he weaved his way carefully out of the kitchen.
"-town this weekend," Kizou was saying.
"We've never taken him there," Shuichi said. He grinned up at his husband as the other man set the tray down on the table.
They exchanged a quick kiss.
"What're you talking about?" Eiri wanted to know as he pulled out a chair besides Shuichi and sat down.
"Kizou was saying that he wanted to take Takanori to Palettetown this weekend," Shuichi reiterated as he handed one of the mugs to Kizou and took one for himself.
Eiri eyed the Yakuza. "Is that what you told him at NG?" He grabbed the remaining mug off the tray.
With a shrug, Kizou took a sip of his tea. "This is good."
Eiri inclined his head in thanks.
"Not really," Kizou was saying in answer to the question. "I just said that we'd do something cool this weekend."
"I don't see why not," Shuichi said. "I mean he is your son." He glanced over his shoulder at Eiri for conformation.
Sitting back, Eiri took a sip of his own tea as he contemplated the situation.
Until little Takanori started school in three years (dear God did he really?), which was when they would have to reevaluate the visitation schedule, it had been agreed upon that little Takanori would spent the weekends with Kizou, except when there was a family function or some other planned event, and one day during the week, which would vary depending on Kizou's schedule. As for the holidays and little Takanori's birthday, which was in February, they were thinking of joint celebrations for now.
"Whenever you're in town," Shuichi had said, "and want to spent time with him, you're free to do so. I mean, he is your son after all. I'm not going to become one of those parents who refuse their ex access to their own children. Our son deserves to know who his parents are."
That had Eiri thinking about Shuichi and the parentage that Ryuichi had been keeping from him.
If Eiri wanted to be honest, he was terrified at the idea of sending his two-year-old son off with a man who he has not known for more than a fortnight, a man who was a Yakuza boss and dealt with all types of unsavory characters. Who knows what could happen? Just how safe was his son with this man?
But Shuichi was right. This man, this Rique Kizou, was little Takanori's biological father and he had every right to see his son. Or did he? He was not sure what the law said about something like this. Did a biological father's rights supersede those of the adoptive father? Was an adoption negated because the biological father had not been aware that he had a child until after the fact? Or would the biological father be told, "Tough luck"? If Kizou were to petition the court for custody and/or visitation rights because Eiri had gone over Shuichi's head and told Kizou to fuck off and leave them alone, whose side would the court be on? They could very well lose their son. A cold chill raced down Eiri's spine. It wasn't worth the risk. Besides, what would that do to his and Shuichi's relationship? Eiri snorted. What relationship? Shuichi would boot his ass out of the house so fast, he wouldn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.
Eiri sighed.
His first instinct was to tell Kizou to go to hell. That he was not to go anywhere near his son. As strong as the urge was to keep his son locked up in his room until he was thirty, Eiri knew that would be unfair to both little Takanori as well as to Kizou.
With more effort than he would ever admit, Eiri heard himself agreeing.
"But if you make him cry for anything other than his own stupidity, you will be answering to me," Eiri promised.
Shuichi gasped. "Eiri!"
Kizou shook his head at the teen. "No, Shu, it's okay." He turned towards Eiri. "You have my word. I would give my life to protect my son. Thank you." He inclined his head in gratitude at the man who'd raised his son for the past two years. It was obvious that Eiri Uesugi loved Takanori very much and thought of the boy as his own. It was also obvious how difficult it was on the other man to agree to allow a virtual strange to spend time, alone, with his son. Kizou was more grateful than he could ever express to be given this chance to get to know his son. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
His violet eyes swimming in unshed tears, Shuichi reached across the table and smiling up at Eiri, clasped their hands together.
Trying to pretend his face wasn't growing warm, Eiri shrugged indifferently. Honestly, he knew what it was like to be kept in the dark. Even though Shuichi was unaware of it, so did he. Besides, he added, if he were to protest Kizou's involvement with little Takanori, Shuichi would have his balls on a platter with sashimi, rice and soy sauce.
"Anyway, I was thinking of buying a place here in the city," Kizou was saying. "It'd be easier when Takanori comes to visit."
"Oo! That's a good idea," Shuichi agreed. "You know, you should talk to Tohma about that. He's the one who…"
Turning his hand over, Eiri laced his fingers through Shuichi's and leaning back, took a sip of his rapidly cooling tea as Shuichi and Kizou went on to discuss potential housing options.
This was nice. He was still worried about the safety of his son now that it was known nation wide that he was the child of the leader of the Black Dragons, but for now, being able to sit here and have tea amicably with his husband's ex-lover was a welcome change from the hostile environment he'd grown up in.
oOo
That Night - Uesugi Residence - Kyoto, Japan
The man who was more commonly known as the father of Eiri Yuki was sitting on the back porch of the house where he'd been forced to raise his three children alone after his tyrannical mother ran Kaoru (2) out of town.
It was something hi mother, Maki Uesugi, had threatened to do when he'd confessed one night at dinner that he'd had "the audacity" to fall in love with, impregnate and propose to a neutral, but Hideo had never believed she would go through with her threats. His mother was known more for her bark then her bite after all. And he'd been right, or so he'd believed at the time. For when his mother met Kaoru the next night and saw for herself that his intended was in fact pregnant with their first child, a daughter they would name Mika, she turned into a doting future mother-in-law and grandmother-to-be. It wasn't until he returned home late one night from the temple a month after Eiri and Tatsuha (3) were born to find Kaoru and his things gone did he realize that his mother hadn't actually accepted the neutral into her family.
The police paid him a visit an hour later. Kaoru, who'd been sick with a severe case of the flu, had been wondering the streets for hours in the middle of a blizzard when witnesses claim he collapsed. He'd been rushed to the hospital, but by the time Hideo arrived, it was too late.
Hideo literally hasn't spoken a word to his mother since, though that did not stop her from nagging his ear off.
Bitch.
The light breeze whipped his robes about and swept at the gray haze curling from his cigarette.
Leaning sideways against the post, he tipped his baldhead back. They were far enough away from the city to be able to see the night sky twinkling with a sea of stars. It was like diamonds laid out on black velvet. It was breathtaking. Kaoru used to love stargazing, Hideo remembered suddenly. Shaking his head, he sat up, cleared his throat of a mysterious tightness, and blinked his eyes rapidly several times to clear them from an equally mysterious mist.
As he brought his cigarette to his lips, the tranquil silence of the night was shattered by the sudden ringing of the house phone. His hand stilled. He shot a brief glance over his shoulder at the open shoji doors that lead into the tatami room that was off the kitchen.
He did not need to be psychic, or have caller ID, to know who was on the other end of the line or why that person was calling so late at night.
Hideo took a deep drag from his cigarette and ignored the shrill ringing of the phone.
He envied Eiri. His son did what he has never been able to do.
oOo
Uesugi Residence - Kanto
"What is the fool son of mine up to?" head of the Uesugi family Maki Uesugi snapped as the line continued to ring. "Why isn't he picking up?"
Knowing it was rhetorical, Aki kept her mouth shut. It was difficult. She had a dozen snappish comebacks just waiting in the wings to be let loose. Since she was left washing the dinner dishes, again, she had her back to her mother and settled for just rolling her eyes.
Maybe she should accept Ichiro's proposal. Her beau of a mere five weeks had proposed the night before. She was glad she hadn't turned him down. Asking to think about it was turning out to be a good move. Moving to Hokkaido would be a welcome change to the fiery temper that was Maki Uesugi. If her mother was not careful, she would give herself a coronary…God forbid, she remembered to add.
oOo
NG Executive Offices - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
He was at a loss.
Sitting in the black leather upholstered chair and leaning forward over his desk with his elbows resting on its surface and his hands held as if in prayer against his lips, Tohma stared blankly at the closed door that lead out into the reception room.
His green amber eyes flickered to the phone.
There really was no evidence to support the theory that Ayaka was coming to Tokyo or that she had some sort of misguided grudge against Shuichi. A theory was just that. A speculation. You could not convict someone on an assumption. Then again, being prepared for when nothing happened was better than not being prepared for when the shit hit the fan.
Lacing his fingers together, Tohma heaved a deep breath into the hollow pit between his cupped hands.
He would never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to Shuichi and neither would Eiri. Little Takanori would probably end up becoming K's protégé and come back to assassinate him as he was having a quiet dinner at home with Mika.
That reminded him. He had to call his wife and tell her he'd be late getting home.
Tohma sighed as he reached for the phone.
oOo
Shindou-Uesugi Residence - Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Chuckling, Eiri stood up from the armchair and wandered his way into the kitchen when the phone started to ring. He was sorely tempted to let the answering machine pick it up. "Hello?" he chuckled into the phone as he turned and watched Kizou chase their son around the coffee table. Shuichi was sitting on the sofa laughing. Eiri felt a twinge of jealousy as he watched the interactions between Kizou and little Takanori. At the same time, he was relieved that the transition had gone so smoothly. As he was only fifteen months, Eiri had to wonder though if his son actually understood all that they'd told him.
"Where's Shuichi?" demanded the familiar male voice in his ear without any preamble.
Eiri snapped out of his contemplations at the sound of panic in the voice. He pushed away from the counter and walked further into the kitchen. "Why? What's going on?" he demanded with a frown.
"Eiri please."
The plea was laced with an urgency that had Eiri's pulse racing. Something happened. "In the living room."
There was a sigh and a mumbled, "Thank God."
"Why?" His question was met with silence. It did nothing for the fear that was starting to rise within Eiri. "Seguchi. What's going on?"
"…I'm not sure," Tohma admitted truthfully.
"Seguchi!" He did not believe that for a second.
"I'm not! Just…Just keep Shuichi in the house. I'm sending over guards."
He did not like this. Not at all. "What the hell is going on Tohma?"
"…You remember that betrothal you turned down?"
Eiri blinked. "To what's-her-name? Yeah. Why?" What did one have to do with the other?
"Let's just say there is a very good possibility that she did not take the rejection well."
No more needed be said. Eiri swore.
III
That Same Night - Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
It was late by the time Masahiro Usami returned home from the temple. Almost immediately, he noticed the family car was gone. The only reminder that a car used to sit in that very spot was the oily stain on the blacktop.
"Huh," he muttered, "must be a leak." Masahiro felt strangely detached from the scene before him.
Minus the possible oil leak, the silver Toyota was as close as a five year old car could come to being in "like new" condition. Its near perfect condition was thanks to not only the meticulous tender loving care Masahiro showered the vehicle with, but also from how rarely the car was used. There was no need. Using it when everything was within walking distance was a waste of gas. Even his oldest and dearest friend, Hideo Uesugi, was a quick fifteen-minute bus ride away. One of the only times the car was used was on long road trips. The car not being in its usual spot was therefore unusual, yes, but Masahiro was not worried. It just meant that his wife must have taken it for the day. It would not be the first time, but she usually let him know she was taking it.
"Maybe she left a note," he decided.
Pushing through the gate, and shutting it firmly behind him, he started up the walk to the house. He hadn't taken more than a step when out of the corner of his eye something sticking out of the mailbox caught his attention. Curious, he changed course.
"That fool girl!"
That day's mail had not been collected. There were bills, several magazines his wife subscribed to, and a postcard announcing that there would be a medical refuse collection at the local fire station the following weekend.
"What's she been doing all day?" he asked. There was an annoyed bite to his voice. "She better not have her face buried in one of those trashy romance novels again," he grumbled. Normally, his daughter Ayaka was a sweet obedient child, but lately…He was not sure what was wrong with her. She's been so absentminded as of late and was always on the phone.
Wait a minute. Back up.
Was it possible Ayaka met someone? Was she ready to give up on her childhood dream of marrying Eiri?
He hoped so.
Ayaka was groomed since birth to become the next Mrs. Uesugi and even though their betrothal was arranged, she'd quickly grown to love Eiri. She'd looked forward to becoming his wife, but when she was tossed aside, she'd been completely heartbroken. It'd been impossible to get her out of bed for months afterwards.
Her reaction was understandable. He'd been incensed himself at the callousness shown by his old friend's son, but he'd tried not to dwell on it-otherwise he would have done something most unfortunate-and as a result was able to move on. After all, it wasn't as if one failed marriage proposal was the end of the world. He went through several himself before meeting Aiko.
That his daughter had been able to bounce back from such a humiliating and public rejection as well as she had was evidence of how strong his daughter was. He was proud of her.
With the mail in hand, he strode up the walk to the house. Stopping to straighten the small potted fern a neighbor had given to them last week before moving abroad, he climbed onto the porch and strode to the front door. With the customary "I'm home" greeting ready on his lips, he grabbed the doorknob and discovered to his astonishment that the door was locked.
"What?"
Wondering if the door was just stuck, he jiggled the doorknob and pushed on the door, but it remained steadfast.
"Why'd she lock it for?"
As long as someone was home, the door was kept unlocked. It was only locked at night or when there was nobody at the house.
He rapt lightly and waited, but there was nothing but silence, so he knocked again, this time harder. Maybe Ayaka was upstairs or in the bathroom or something. He remembered the layout of his grandmother's old house was such that if you were in the kitchen it was impossible to hear the front door.
"Ayaka," he called loudly.
Even banging a fisted hand on the doorframe hard enough to send jolts of pain up his arm produced no results. The house remained as still as ever. He was beginning to wish he had fixed the doorbell last weekend as his wife had wanted him to do instead of pushing it off.
Beginning to grow angry, he muttered, "Where is she?"
"Masa?" a soft voice called from behind him.
Startled, Masahiro wheeled around. "Aiko." Striding up the walk towards him was his wife. He hadn't heard her. That was surprising. Had he been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard her pull up? As soon as he thought it, he dismissed it. Personally, he felt it was impossible to be so lost in thought as to not notice someone coming up behind you…well, maybe if you were hard of hearing, but that wouldn't be considered "lost in thought" though would it. If this had been a movie, a show on television or a book, it would add a measure of suspense to the storyline, but since this was real life, the only times Aiko-or anyone else for that matter-managed to get the drop on him was when he was approached silently. His wife had a tendency to be more silent than a cat. He'd lost count of how many times he's told her to "make more noise next time" and a car, even a brand new one, made some sort of noise. There was no way he shouldn't have heard her pull up.
"What are you doing?" Aiko asked her husband, her expression twisted in confusion.
"The door's locked," Masahiro said, distracted, as he peered around his wife. He frowned. "Honey, where's the car?"
Aiko frowned. She glanced over her shoulder. The spot where the car was usually parked, and it had been parked there when she left earlier that afternoon, was empty. "I thought you had it."
Confusion and unease swirled within Masahiro as he shook his head.
They exchanged a quick panicked look before Masahiro turned back to the door and started banging on it in earnest, shouting out for his daughter to open the door right now, while his wife flew up onto the porch and dug into her purse for her keys. In her haste, she dropped them.
"Hurry!"
"I'm hurrying!"
Her hands were shaking so bad that Aiko found it difficult to fish out her house key from among the key chains, the key fob and the various key tags from shops around town.
Having lost his patience, Masahiro snatched his wife's keys and unlocked the door. He flung the door open and stepped into the foyer with his wife right behind him. "Ayaka," he called.
Silence.
He quickly lost his shoes and flung himself into the living room, from there giving the tatami room a quick check before going into the kitchen.
"Masa!" he heard his wife call out to him.
Masahiro abandoned his search of the bathroom. "Did you find her?" were the first words out of his mouth when he raced back into the foyer.
Standing at the antique banquet table they had inherited from his grandmother, Aiko appeared to be gazing at a bamboo bowl that was sitting next to the house phone. "They car keys are gone," she said. They were usually kept within the bowl. "As are Ayaka's shoes."
Masahiro blinked. "What?" For some reason, what his wife was saying made no sense to him.
Aiko turned towards him. "I think Ayaka took the car."
Masahiro merely blinked again. "But…" He hadn't even realized that she had her license let alone knew how to drive. It made no sense. It was so out of character. It wasn't like Ayaka to go running off like that. Why would she take the car without asking or without even letting them know where she was going or when she was going to be back? Had something happened? Had there been some sort of emergency? No. That made no sense. No matter what came up, Ayaka would have left a note. He was certain of it. Ayaka was a good girl. She would never break her poor dear old father's heart by acting like some sort of hoodlum. No, something must have happened. That was the only way his precious baby girl would have disobeyed him.
By this time, he had worked himself up into a dizzying panic. He was sure something terrible had happened to his baby girl.
"P-police," he gasped. "We've got to call…"
While Aiko clasped her hands together and prayed that nothing serious had befallen her only child, Masahiro called the police to report that their daughter had been kidnapped.
oOo
TCN Studios - Setagaya, Tokyo
Chishin did not want to think about how late it was. These late nights were going to be the death of him. He just knew it. Unfortunately, they could not be helped. He had a television studio to run after all.
"I need a vacation," he mumbled around a yawn. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wishing he were home in bed.
With a jolt that nearly sent him tumbling onto his ass, the elevator arrived at the ground floor. Regaining his balance, Chishin fixed the strap of his messenger bag that had slid down his arm and stepped away from the back wall. A ping that sounded obnoxiously loud sounded and moments later, the elevator doors slid apart. Covering another yawn, he stepped out of the car and into the grand marble and glass reception hall of TCN studios.
"Night Kinku," he called as he crossed the lobby towards the front doors. It was a good thing that girl had the next day off. She worked longer hours than he did. Maybe he should look into giving her a raise. Or a promotion.
Isako glanced up briefly from the paperwork she was sorting through for Kinu who worked the front desk the next day. "Night, sir," she called back before returning to the pile of papers stacked before her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the small square-shaped parcel sitting besides the now silent portable radio. "Oh! Sir! A package came for you earlier!" She jumped out of her seat and grabbing the small package, jogged around the reception desk. Her black high heels made sharp click-clack sounds against the tiled floor. With the shocking revelation of who little Takanori Uesugi's biological father was and everything else that had been revealed at the press conference earlier that afternoon, she had completely forgotten about the package.
Chishin veered off course and met the young receptionist halfway. The package fit neatly into the palm of his hand. "Thanks." He gave it a once over before shoving it into his bag. "Night."
"Night sir," Isako said.
As Chishin exited the building, he slipped the strap of his bag over his head so it lay across his chest.
The cool night air enveloped him. After the smoldering heat of the day, the cooler temperature was most welcome.
The distant rumble of the highway drifted passed him on the breeze.
He made his way down the street to the parking garage where he'd parked his car this morning. The blood red Honda was one of the only vehicles on the ground level left. It was parked directly under a light near the security gate.
"Night," he called to the uniform clad man.
The guard inclined his head in return.
Grabbing his keys out of the side pocket of his bag, he disengaged the car alarm and then unlocked the driver side door using the key fob. A series of beeps echoed into the silent night. He opened the door and lifting his bag over his head, slid in behind the wheel. Settling the bag in his lap, he shut and locked the door. After starting the car, he sat back, staring at the beams of light from his headlights reflected in the glass façade of the building across the street. It was a dentist's office, he noted absently.
His mind went back to the package.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he reached into his bag and pulled it out. It was so innocuous. Smaller than a baseball. He turned it over. Nothing shifted. Maybe it was a pipe bomb, he thought with a chuckle. The chuckle died. His stomach churned instead. Shaking off the ludicrousness of such a thing, he moved his bag off his lap and into the passenger seat on top of a bunch of files. He unwrapped the standard brown paper encasing the package. There was no return address he noticed. The white cardboard box within would fit a ring case easily.
"Marriage proposal?" He chuckled at that. Better than a bomb sent by some anti-Christian nutcase.
He used his house key to slice through the tape. Inside was a piece of unlined paper folded into a square. He pulled it out. It was laying on a bed of cotton. He cocked an eyebrow at that.
"Pretty elaborate," he thought. Why not just use an envelope? Or better yet, get his email from the TCN website and send him the message electronically.
Setting the box on his knee, he unfolded the note carefully so as to not tear it. He flipped the switch on his rearview mirror. The light on the underside of the mirror snapped on. Leaning forward, he read the one line in the light.
"Small steps".
Chishin blinked. What?
Setting the note on the dashboard, he picked up the box and plucked out the cotton.
"Oh. My. God," he whispered around a racing pulse. Laying there on a second piece of paper was a small bone chip preserved in an airtight container. "Oh. My. God." His hands shaking, he picked up the bone fragment. It was shaped like an arrowhead and whiter than the cotton. "It can't be," he whispered. Tears stung his eyes and blurred his vision. His throat ached.
Setting the box back on his knee, he palmed the airtight container and unfolded the second note. He held it under the dim light emanating from the rearview mirror. As he scanned it, a smile spread across his face. It wasn't a note, but a copy of an editorial that was going to be in the next issue of The Trinity. "How the Devil Lead Me Astray," read the headline. The byline underneath read, "By Nami Mataguchi."
Replacing the bone fragment, he reached into his bag for his cellphone. Opening the address book, he scrolled down until he found her name and then pressed the call button. The line had barely begun ringing when she picked up. "Wanna go grab some coffee?"
Small steps, yes, but steps in the right direction.
oOo
Seguchi Residence - Tokyo Midtown Residence - Tokyo
As once again Mika was to have dinner without her husband, who has been wayward more and more as of late, she decided to scuttle previous dinner plans and order out. She thought briefly of the diet she had decided that morning-thanks to the scale claiming she put on ten pounds-she needed to go on.
"To hell with it," she decided.
There was always tomorrow.
After digging out the menus from the utility drawer in the kitchen and turning through them one by one, she finally decided on the lemon chicken from Shanghai located right down the street. She made the call and placed her order for delivery.
As she was returning the menus to the utility drawer, the picture of a large square-shaped pizza next to a platter of chicken wings on the front of the menu for Torpedo Pizza caught her attention. Instead of it starting her mouth watering and forcing a grumble from her empty stomach, a wave of nausea rolled through her. She could literally feel the color drain from her face as her stomach rolled and rebelled. Feeling as if she were going to be sick, Mika tossed the menus aside and raced to the bathroom. The water closet off the foyer being the nearest, she veered towards it. She made it just in time.
Something told her this was all Tohma's fault.
oOo
A Couple Hours Later - Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
A silver Toyota was parked along the curb in the shadows. The engine was idling. Behind the wheel was a nineteen-year-old girl. Her long mousy brown hair flowed freely down her back and her light brown eyes were filled with disgust and loathing as she watched a black limo pull away from the curb in front of the Koishikawa Park Tower and drive off down the street, vanishing from view as it turned the corner.
With the limo gone, the teenager standing on the sidewalk who she knew was eighteen, a year younger than she was, but looked only sixteen, came into view. In his arms was a sleeping child. Her harsh features softened as she took in the toddler's chubby features and the mused jet-black hair. She wondered if she'd be able to get him to call her mama. Wouldn't that be nice? She'd always wanted to be a mother. The revulsion she felt for the singer returned tenfold as her gaze shifted from the child to the slight protrudence that was the singer's belly. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She bared her teeth.
Beside the object of her hatred was her fiancé. She glared at the arm he had draped in an almost protective nature around the smaller man's shoulders.
He was dead! Dead!
And her chance came. Shuichi stepped out from under Eiri's arm and turned towards him. He said something to Eiri, which she could not hear for they were too far from where she lay in wait, but she could guess what was said as her betrothed nodded and took the sleeping child from Shuichi. This was it! Shifting the car into gear, she slammed her foot on the accelerator. The car pulled away from the curb like a shot. Heedless of the traffic and pedestrians, Ayaka Usami aimed her father's car straight at Shuichi Shindou.
"Die," she hissed through gritted teeth.
oOo
Aizawa Residence - Kyoto, Japan
With a whicker basket of white, baby blue, lemon yellow and black yarn at her side, Oharu Aizawa was sitting on the sofa watching a rerun of her favorite show while trying to finish the baby blanket she was making for her niece's baby shower that was this weekend. Her husband was in his usual place reading the newspaper and completely ignoring the television. She had no idea how he was able to do that.
"The same way you can knit and pay attention to the TV at the same time," was what he once told her.
When the phone rang, her hands stilled. She frowned. The click clacking of the silver knitting needles silenced, she spared a quick glance at the clock on the side table. Who could that be so late? She exchanged a glance with her husband who was peering at her from behind a folded down corner of the newspaper. From the look on his face, he hadn't a clue either.
Untangling the yarn from around her hands, Oharu set her work aside and crossed the living room to the foyer where the cordless phone extension was sitting on the sideboard. "Hello?" she breathed softly into the mouthpiece.
"…Uhm…hello," spoke the soft female voice hesitantly over the line. "…I'm…I'm sorry for calling so late…but…uhm…is this the Aizawa residence?"
"Yes it is," she confirmed. At the sound behind her, Oharu glanced over her shoulder. It was her husband.
"Who is it?" he mouthed.
She shrugged.
"…This is…Are you Taki's…uhm…Did you-?"
Oharu latched onto her son's name. Her grip on the phone tightened. "Did you know my son Miss?" For some reason, her pulse started racing.
There was a heavy sigh over the line. "Yes, yes I did," the woman said. She sounded more confident. "That's…that's actually why I called…uhm…Do you think…Tomorrow…That is…"
"Are you alright miss? Does this have to do with my son?"
"…Actually…it does."
Oharu held her breath.
"Look, uhm, your son and I…we had a…a…thing for a…for some time and…we had a falling out and…well…I never told him because I was angry at him for being…well…for being Taki and…and…and well…"
Oharu was hard pressed to make any sense out of what she was hearing. "I don't understand. Did you use to date my son?"
She felt her husband snap to attention behind her.
"…Sort of. Look, Mrs. Aizawa, the thing is…" There was another heavy sigh over the line. "Is there a time when we can meet?"
Oharu blinked. "Does it concern my son?"
Masato drew nearer.
"Yes."
"How about tomorrow afternoon? Will that work?"
"That's perfect. Thank you."
She relayed her address before saying goodbye and hanging up.
"What was that about? What did she say about Taki?" her husband demanded.
Oharu shook her head. "I'm not sure. She said she had something she needed to discuss with us about Taki and that she couldn't do it over the phone."
Masato frowned, his forehead lined in thought.
oOo
Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Mai Shindou had read about this happening in countless books. It had become such a commonplace phrase to use in fiction that it had since lost its effectiveness. The shock impact it used to convey was lost. It cannot be used without people rolling their eyes at such unoriginality or without the spelling/grammar check on the computer highlighting it as being cliché. Please consider using the following instead. Never had she once imagined that such a cliché impossibility could actually become possible, let alone be witness to such an event when she left the safety of her house in Kyoto earlier that day.
But here she was.
Time seemed to stop for a mere instant, but an instant was all that was needed. She stood frozen on the sidewalk. Her heart lay silent within her chest. Her breath frozen within her lungs. Her mind was blank. She could do nothing but stare at the scene unfolding before her.
When the instant dissolved, time did not return to its normal pace. In fact, it actually seemed to be playing reality at half speed. Like in those numerous books she'd read, it was as if she had all the time in the world to snap herself out of her stupor and tear down the street, pushing rudely passed the pedestrians that were hampering her ability to get to where she knew she had to be, but she pressed on.
She was not going to make it in time!
There was utter chaos around her. So many people were yelling and scrambling to get out of the way of the car careening out of control. Not her though. She was heading straight into the heart of the turmoil. She had to. There was no other option. It was her duty as a mother, as a grandmother, as a human being.
Her honey colored hair had come free of its restraint and was streaming out behind her and her bronzite eyes were wide in fear. Her breath was coming out in panting breathes. There was a stitch in her side.
When time slowed down, hope was borne within her. She believed she had all the time in the world to shout to her son and push him out of the way of the white-or was it silver?-car with a flying tackle she'd learned from watching American football, something that her husband had recently become obsessed with.
Her belief was justified.
The last image she had was of her son, her precious baby boy, laying sprawled out on the sidewalk surrounded by a contingent of black clad men and women who had appeared from out of nowhere.
"Thank God," she whispered before her body exploded in pain. She was smiling when the nothingness claimed her.
…To Be Continued…
(1) Actual radio station here in Buffalo, NY (it's a Catholic radio station).
(2) I mentioned in "On the Street of Dreams" ch. 14 that Eiri's mother's name was Kazuki. That was his last name obviously. Hideo and Kaoru weren't legally married because neutrals did not have the right to marry at the time.
(3) Remember, Eiri and Tatsuha are fraternal twins in this story