A/N:
Thanks again to Miyanoai, my wonderful beta. Also, this chapter marks the beginning of the violence. It is enough to bother me as I wrote it, but I kept it in there. I think it is important to the story, as well as character and relationship development.
I have been warned that Asami is a little OOC, but this is a totally OOC story, in my opinion, so I did not change it. I seriously debated scrapping this entire chapter, and doing a rewrite. At the end of the day, I could not think of any other way to communicate my points and move the story in the direction I intended.
***Sunshine***
Chapter Six:
Asami was itching for a fight. Looking for someone to punish. To throttle. To kill. Anything cathartic to help ease the gnawing terror in his gut. Akihito could not give him anyone to kill, but he could give him his body. Sex had always worked before.
"The fuck, Ryu?" he flung the limo door open. He told Mahdi, in a nice-to-meet-you kind of way to hitch a ride with someone else. It was going to get nasty in the limo.
Asami looked shocked that Akihito would dare to speak to him in a such a manner. He opened his mouth to say something vitriolic, but his boy did not give him the chance. "You should have told me."
"I don't owe you any explanation," the man snarled. "All you need to know is the things I tell you."
"So I'm just a hole you fuck?" Akihito shouted at the top of his lungs.
Suoh wisely chose to roll up the privacy screen after that comment. Akihito knew that he was in for it then. He was dangerously close to crossing a line that there was no return from. Asami was already a ticking time bomb over Hisana, and pushing him over the edge was deadly. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Oh shit, this was such a bad idea, but he was going to help Asami, make him feel better, and he would offer his body to do it.
Asami grabbed Akihito's upper arms with such brutish strength that the sensitive flesh immediately bruised. Akihito gasped from the stabbing pain, but Asami was so enraged that he did not care. He threw the photojournalist onto his back, which knocked the air from his lungs. Asami straddled him, keeping his weight on the boy's arms, effectively pinioning him to the seat. Said photographer kicked and flailed his legs, but he might as well have tried to move Mount Fuji. Asami wasn't budging.
"Don't you ever say that to me again!" the criminal roared. "Have I ever treated you like some disposable boy cunt? Never again, Akihito!"
"I have a right to know––" Akihito shouted but Asami quickly shook him to silence.
"My life! My child!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he bellowed. "It's none of your fucking business!"
He should have cowered, should have relented under Asami's outrage, but he kept arguing. This is what would help his lover. For once, Akihito was not scared. "What would you have done at Christmas? Your birthday? She's obviously a part of your life!"
"You were never supposed to meet!" the crime lord all but screamed. He was Alecto, a fury of Hades, so close to apoplectic rage that Akihito thought he might have a stroke.
Pain ripped his heart in two. That confession was unexpected, and the response it pulled forth from Akihito was very, very real. "Are you that fucking ashamed of me?" Akihito screamed at the top of his lungs as he renewed his thrashing with vigor. "Let me go, you bastard! Lemme go!" He fought hard, kicking and gnashing his teeth so close to Asami's face. Anything to get away from the crime lord.
Asami's eyes widened and he threw the photographer way, as if his words repelled him. "Do you think I don't know how wrong this is? I am almost old enough to be your father!"
"Out of everything that has happened between us, you thought that our age difference would bother me?" Akihito slipped to the other side of the limo. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his heart beating so rapidly that it was bound to burst from his ribcage. He could not believe his ears. Did Asami know how stupid he sounded? Yeah sure, murder and extort and rape and cheat people, but an age gap was a deal breaker! Or maybe he thought Hisana would disapprove because of their age. Asami certainly seemed to value her. "Is it because of Hisana?" he demanded.
"She's your age!" shouted the father. "SHE should be fucking you, not me!"
"You're a fucking idiot!" Akihito threw bruised arms into the air. Though he totally wasn't. It was surreal, to be dating a man who's daughter was just years younger than he was, and logic stated that they would gravitate to each other. Yet to suspect that Akihito would leave Asami for his daughter was ludicrous. He could not fathom being with anyone but Ryu.
"Watch your mouth," snarled his lover. This was the opening that the boy was looking for. Asami was close to his breaking point. Just a little more, and once more, Akihito was willing to go to extremes to soothe his lover. "I have been extremely lenient with you thus far––"
"Oh, whaddaya gonna do?" Akihito taunted in a sarcastic, dopey voice. He knew exactly which buttons to push, playing Asami like a fiddle. The crime lord knew every quirk of his lover, knew how to manipulate him, but he never suspected the photographer was also capable of such exploitation. "Spank me?"
Gold eyes glinted and then narrowed. Grabbing Akihito's wrists, he jerked him onto his lap. The investigative journalist gasped as his diaphragm spasmed, making it impossible to breathe. Asami tossed a leg over Aki's knees, locking him in place, as he viciously pulled his pants down.
A hard, slick crack echoed in the suddenly silent car. A blooming streak of pain set his ass on fire. Akihito tried to cry out and breathe at the same time, resulting in a barking, tortured sort of sound. The pain was deep and so hard that he could feel it traveling up his body to claw at his throat while gagging his mouth. The second blow came before Akihito had truly recognized and processed the first hit; the sound he made was even more torn and ragged.
"Gah!" he screamed as the volley of smacks landed on his rippling flesh. Asami struck him with a fury that the boy had never experienced, even during the roughest of sex. He immediately bucked up, and Asami growled wrathfully. The man forced him back down, pushing his neck with his large hand.
He could hear Asami start to breathe heavily, a sign that the harsh blows were taking a toll on him as well.
Akihito lost count of how many times Asami spanked him. He was walloping him with his full force, using his wide, open palm. Akihito's skin burned, tears gathering unbidden in the corners of his hazel eyes. Sweat slicked his entire body, his breathe shallow and harsh. The crime lord's grunts were primal, punctuating every blistering smack.
Finally, his arm slowed, the slaps lessening and lightening, until he stopped moving all together. He released his hold on Akihito's neck, but one palm stayed on the flayed, blushing skin of his butt. Asami collapsed on top of Akihito, his forehead dipping into the pool of sweat between Akihito's shoulder blades. His breathing was ragged, as if he had just climaxed, but he had not gotten hard during the punishment.
Akihito licked his dry lips, feeling Asami's exertion as his stomach, filled by deep pants, was pushing into Akihito's side. The photographer used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. They stayed like that for some time, maybe minutes, allowing their breathing to slow and their minds to calm.
Eventually, Akihito thought he might be able to speak, but Asami beat him to the punch. "Are you––I am––" He seemed to be wordless, only able to emote anything by exhaling forcefully through his nose. "Akihito, say something."
"Did I help?" His voice was raw and heated, but as strong as titanium.
Asami jolted away from the boy, drawing a deep, opened mouth gasp as if he were emerging from water. Akihito gingerly pushing himself up, spine cracking as he sat on his lover's lap. When his wounded flesh came into contact with Asami's hard thighs, the tears that cloistered in his eyes spilt over, wetting his cheeks.
"I wanted you to feel in control, again," he sniffed as Asami's hands stroked his back soothingly, misunderstanding the crime lord's strange face. "I knew you needed to let out some of your aggression, and sex has always comforted me."
Arms, strong as a shark cage, crushed Akihito to Asami's chest. The photographer hiccuped, his lips quivering and as the adrenaline wore off, he realized how utterly stupid he had been. "I'm sorry, Ryu," he blubbered, tears dripping onto the pressed silk suit. "I just wanted to help, and I thought…I thought…"
What had he been thinking?
"My beautiful boy," Asami's voice was strangled. "I am sorry, Akihito. So sorry. Please, forgive me."
Asami's voice trembled. Akihito pushed away from his embrace, his mouth hanging open. "Huh?" That was not what he expected.
"I broke the number one rule. I lost control, and struck you in anger," Asami could not look at his lover's lower lip trembling. He stared out the window, at the blurred neon lights and the silhouettes of people that danced like shadows in the night. "I'll have Suoh take you to the condo, so you can collect your things."
"What?" Akihito shrieked. He grabbed Asami's chin and forced the man to look at him. Gold eyes were empty, void of any emotion and that scared him more than anything else in his life. "How can you say that?"
Asami pulled his hands off of his face. "I beat you. I hurt you. And if I did it once, I am liable to do it again. It's better if you leave now, before it happens again. Before I hurt you worse than I already have."
What? No! That wasn't what was supposed to happen! "I'm sorry!" He fisted his lover's shirt, jerking it out of the belt and away from its neatly tucked confines in the Armani suit pants. He buried his head in Asami's chest. "I'm sorry, Ryu! Please don't make me leave!" he sobbed. "It's my fault! I pushed you to do it. I thought it would make you feel better. I'm sorry!"
Please, don't make me leave.
Fire burned in Asami's eyes. "You little fool," he whispered harshly. "It isn't your fault. It's mine. I should have known better, should have been able to control myself. This is my doing." He had lost control entirely, with his actions and his words. Such words were not fit for the boy's sensitive ears, and harsh blows were not meant for his delicate skin. A side of him he thought to be dead with Kokoro was reemerging, and Asami knew that it was going to get worse, before it got better. This only scratched the surface of what he was capable of, and Akihito did not need to see his demonic deeds. Being held hostage in Hong Kong ensured that he was ignorant of lengths Asami could go to––would go to, to avenge and reclaim. Oh yes, it would be much better if the relationship ended before Akihito's illusion was shattered by cold reality.
"No," Akihito furiously shook his head. "I wanted it. I wanted to help you, to give you that release. I know it makes you feel better. You feel better now, don't you?"
"Akihito," Asami whispered again. His hands ran up and down Akihito's arms, fearful of the bruises that encircled his upper arms like slave cuffs. "I don't deserve you. Seeing to my needs so selflessly. My beautiful boy. Thank you."
The boy sealed his own fate again and again. He was willing to be tethered to Asami, to bear witness to his egregious sins yet love him. He was willing to fall down the rabbit hole, to plunge into the inky abyss that was so deep, he would never surface again. Damned be his soul, Asami would not stop him. He would lock Akihito in a golden cage, and the boy would keep watch like a lighthouse shining through the darkness to ships lost at sea. He would be Asami's anchor to the sun, an angelic reminder to fight against the surrounding darkness.
At last, Asami Ryuichi accepted Akihito's love and permanence in his life. They would descend to Hell together, and rise up to Heaven as well.
"Did I help?" Akihito asked once more, sounding pitifully hopeful, even to his own ears. He was looking for a silver lining to this black storm cloud, something to salvage this car ride and keep Asami by his side.
"Yes," Asami breathed, and Akihito relaxed into him. He could tell that Asami was also more relaxed, the tension lifting now that some of his aggression had been exorcised. "Thank you," he brushed a kiss across Akihito's forehead.
The photographer flashed him a tentative smile as he climbed off his lap. He winced as the rough cloth of his pants scratched his red bottom. His eyes widened and his cheek flamed brightly as he looked at Asami's trousers. A dark cum stain bloomed like a flower. "Oops."
"It's fine, I assure you." Asami helped him adjust his clothes. "I can live with only my pants being soiled by our conversation." He was putting it politely, but Akihito understood what he was asking. He wanted to know if their relationship had been irrevocably damaged, if the trust had been severed. Taking Asami's hand in his own, he squeezed. "I meant what I said, Ryuichi. I love you."
Asami actually smiled at him, and pleasure burst in his chest. That smile said more than any soul searching kiss ever could. "Thank you, Akihito."
It was not a love confession, but it was a start. Akihito was immensely pleased with the car ride, despite his blushing butt. "Do you have any other secrets you need to tell me?" he chuckled, trying to mask his nerves. "Like, are you married or anything?" He would feel like a total whore if there was a Mrs. Asami somewhere in the world.
"No."
"What happened to Hisana's mother?" Akihito was not sure he wanted to know. Maybe Hisana lived with the woman, and that was why she did not have a room at the penthouse. But then, he remembered their conversation: busy parents kept her away from the family home. He kept her away. Akihito had probably even taken her room. Oops.
"Kokoro died," Asami replied tersely. He obviously did not want to talk about her. The car stopped. They had arrived at Sion.
"Oh." But he had to know. "Did you love her?"
Suoh opened the door. Mahdi and the other guards were getting out of the black Mercedes that had followed behind the limo. There were two more men, probably Mahdi's guards to have their boss's back, just in case Asami decided to kill the Arab. Asami put one foot out of the car. He looked over his shoulder to the boy who waited with baited breath. "No. I hated her."
Then she must have been hot. Why else would he have slept with her enough to procreate? No one said anything about Asami's stained pants. They rode the elevator up to Asami's office in silence. The fact that Asami hated this Kokoro was strangely comforting but also alarming. She was the mother of his child, yet was easily tossed aside. It would be all the easier to discard Akihito if Asami ever grew bored of them. Still, it gave him hope. As of yet, no one could claim Asami's heart, but Akihito wanted it more than anything. He was going to do his best to capture his prize.
He was going to start by finding Hisana, and reuniting the Asami family.
***Sunshine***
Kirishima, bless his soul, had a change of clothes waiting for Akihito in the office, and a stack of files for Asami. Akihito changed quickly, hissing when his starched jeans scratched his tender tush. The photographer took back every mean thing he had ever said about the secretary. Not having to hunt for Hisana while looking like Aladdin really bolstered his confidence. And what laundry detergent did Kirishima use on his shirt? It felt like he was rolling through soft clouds of Heaven.
No! Akihito focus. There was no time to trade laundry secrets. There was work to be done. Daughters to find. Holy shit, that sounded creepy. Asami had a kid…
The room was silent and tense when he stepped out of Asami's private bathroom. The men rimmed Asami's desk, watching the crime lord flip through files. It must have been the details of the possible suspects. Mahdi met his gaze, and nodded slightly. Akihito felt his face heat up. The Arab assumed he was some badass, worthy of Asami's ardor, and capable of handling himself under duress. The last part was definitely true; Akihito had been kidnaped, beaten, raped and ransomed enough to be able to not die in hostage situations.
"Where are we?" he tried to keep his voice steady. Half the battle was putting on the bravado act; people did not ask questions as long as you looked confident. The Arabs would never know it was his first rodeo on this side of the bull.
If Kirishima was surprised about Akihito's involvement, he did not voice it. He learned long ago to follow Asami's lead without question, and at the moment, the fixer allowed his lover to 'help'. So the secretary answered, "We have just started."
Duh. Asami had to change pants. That explained why he had not molested him in the bathroom. Then again, it might be hard to get an erection while thinking about your missing daughter. Because yeah, Asami had a daughter. Akihito was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around it.
"Feilong? Arbatov?" Akihito fired off the two biggest baddies he could think of, sans Asami.
"No," Asami set the first file down. "It is someone local, someone close to home." Though both crime lords had the nerves and the finances to pull this off, they would never think to target a child. The world knew of his family, but never her. They always targeted the photographer. Why attack a dragon's lair, full of fire-spitting elders, when his treasure moved unguarded?
Only the families she had touched knew that she even existed.
"Oh," Akihito shrugged.
"Asami-sama," Kirishima reported. "Those thirty-two files you have are all the families who are aware of, or have come into contact with Hisana. I have narrowed the list down to the five most likely candidates." To save time, he had to make some decisions about relevant information.
"Who?" Asami tossed the file on Matsumoto Natsuo away. The old fool was the saccharine headmaster of her preparatory school. He knew everyone's business, had blackmail on all the families who's young attended the institution, and made millions protecting those secrets. And the children, always the children. It was a breeding ground for the elite of the elite, for the few that would rule Japan openly or secretly.
Asami had been such a proud father, and naturally sent his prodigy of a daughter to Shinjuku Academy for Virtuosos. That school, and the students, had been more trouble than it was worth. If he had a time machine, Asami would insist on homeschooling Hisana, social development and skills be damned. Still, Matsumoto was a consummate professional. He would not have permitted this.
"Isegawa Tomomi," Kirishima pressed the button on his clicker. The flatscreen pulsed brightly in the dim room, and hooded eyes squinted as they adjusted to the neon light. Isegawa's mugshot slid onto the screen, along with his credentials. He was born in Fukagawa. No wife, but four children by three different women. He mostly dabbled in oil and fossil fuels. When fracking became popular, he nearly outbid Asami for the rights to the Ito District.
"No," Asami shook his head. That was business, and the Ito District was not worth the money he poured into it.
"Second is Benedict Edmundson." He was a Brit who had seen Hisana in Bora Bora. Asami had taken her there when she was sixteen, and the man had been smitten. He proposed marriage on the spot, and when he could not secure even an omiai, he tried to curry her favor. Four years later, his gifts were extravagant, but always trashed.
"Given the nature of the abduction, and the precursing attempt on Takaba, I doubt he is responsible," Kirishima said while the assembled party memorized his information. "Though given his prolonged obsession with Hisana, prudence required me to include him."
Mahdi sneered. Upon returning to Britain, he would send men to have a chat with Edmundson. He would not risk Hisana living in the same country with an obsessed man, who might stalk her or worse. Especially not after this failed birthday reunion.
Edmundson was too poor to have done this. Though moderately wealthy, he was an average middle class Englishman. He was not part of organized crime, of which this certainly was. However, he could have been manipulated, or coerced into giving up information on Hisana. Asami agreed it was best to keep tabs on him. The man was a ticking time bomb.
"Next is Matsuhara Tamaki," Kirishima swallowed. "He is the only one on the list who has a personal grudge against Hisana." The boy, for he was just a year older than she, and so young, had struck her after she refused to escort him to a party.
The fixer stilled, and no one dared breathe. Slowly, he set the file down, flinched, and then carefully folded his hands. He looked calm, statuesque, but Akihito could see how tightly clamped together his hands were. Skin was white, anemic-looking, and so taught it was about to rip. If he moved at all, he would break the bones in his hands. "That little shit––"
"Asami-sama," interrupted Suoh. He looked between the two men that he lived side-by-side with, as he stepped between them and the television, severing their link to the past. "Unless there has been a miracle, Matsuhara Tamaki is still comatose in Tokyo University Hospital."
"His family then," Kirishima glared daggers at the handsome boy on the screen. "They blame Hisana for Tamaki's condition." It was misplaced blame. The girl had nothing to do with it; that had been solely Kirishima's handiwork.
Akihito so wanted to know what happened to Matsuhara Tamaki. "Then why attack Takaba?" argued Suoh. "This seems to be directed at Asami-sama, not Hisana."
"I agree," Kirishima gritted out through clenched teeth. "Hence the rest of the list." The secretary was thorough, not discounting any possibility. Still, Suoh did not budge until he moved on to the next candidate. "Kawaguchi Akina––"
"Wait," Mahdi finally found his voice. He motioned for the secretary to go to the previous profile, wanting to look at the blinding smile of Matsuhara Tamaki, one of the last he ever gave. "What did he do to Hisana?"
"That doesn't concern you," Suoh was very protective of his boss, his daughter, and their personal lives. Though the boy may have courted her, that did not permit him access to their secrets. Or Kirishima's.
"It does if he took her!" roared the Arab. He was lithe and muscular, but only had a third of Suoh's body mass. If Mahdi towered over Hisana, Suoh was King Kong, and Akihito thought it was foolhardy to argue with him. He could crush Mahdi's skull like a grape.
"Suoh, stand down," Asami managed to extract his hands from their pallid death grip. "It's okay."
The bodyguard stepped aside so Asami could look squarely at Mahdi. The crime lord played his apprehension, like he would any other average joe who challenged him. He put a cigarette between his teeth, and lit it, before taking a long, slow drag. Blowing it out, he drawled, "He was another of Hisana's boyfriends." Asami said the word like a religious person whispered a swear. "But after she refused his advances, he struck her. Kirishima repaid him, tenfold."
Tamaki had been seeing Hisana for about four months when the incident happened. He had invited her to the country club, for an evening with his boys. Sensing what kind of arty it was, Hisana refused him in front of his entourage. He was a little boy, trying to be the bad ass all men feared, and had the trite short temper. He slapped her a few times, enough to bruise her cheek and split her lip. His daughter had fought back like the hellion she was, and managed to rip the boy's ear off. School security had separated them, and sent them both to Tokyo University Hospital, after informing the police. Asami had been livid, but Kirishima was enraged. He beat the boy senseless in his private room, while his buddies went out for coffee.
"Oh, shit," Akihito softly swore. Suoh was not the only one protective of Hisana. Kirishima gave him such a pounding that he was in a coma. The secretary did not look remotely remorseful.
"You should have just killed him," one of Mahdi's men grumbled. Behind his thick, curling beard, he was pale. "It would have been merciful."
"Mercy isn't what that punk deserved," snarled the four eyed secretary. "Let him, and his family, suffer!"
"Enough!" Mahdi stepped between the two, holding his arms out. "We can't change what happened, anymore than we can heal that camel shit. The first twelve hours are the most critical, and we can't waste time arguing!" His voice clapped like thunder. For a moment, he sounded like a young Asami, capable but still finding his way. Brown eyes looked at Kirishima. "Who is next on your list?"
"Kawaguchi Akina," Kirishima acted like the tangent had never happened. The rest of the room settled into uneasy silence, watching the stats flicker onto the screen. They memorized them as quickly as they could read, knowing every tidbit was vital. It was highly likely that one of these men had taken Hisana. Two hours down, ten remaining.
"He is an ex-business parter of Asami-sama. We had a weapons trade scheduled years ago, but after finding out that Kawaguchi bought and sold the weapons from a Honduras terrorist group, we backed out of the deal. He lost sixty-million and was forced to find a new buyer. Unfortunately for him, he found an undercover Interpol agent. He was sentenced to fifteen years in prison."
An arms dealer. Typical, Akihito scoffed. The other big shots had been original, but Kawaguchi was just a pissed off business parter. Maybe if Asami did not screw everyone over, he would have some allies instead of all enemies. At the same time, the photographer applauded his lover's scruples. Many would not care if they dealt with terrorists, but his lover refused. That alone reaffirmed Akihito's decision to stay by Asami's side.
"How does he know about Hisana?" Mahdi asked. His sharp mind was analyzing every nugget of information, looking for any lead. Though he had been intimately involved with Hisana for just over eight months, he had known her the entire time she was at Oxford. Something that seemed odd or random at the time could have an ulterior motive that lead them to the kidnapper.
"She threw up on him," Asami said stiffly. "At a state dinner for gifted children." She had been seven, and acted like the gold embossed invitation was for hanging the sun. She insisted they attend, so she could bask in her glory, and he indulged her. At the dinner, in her sparkling couture dress, she decided that she did not like tomatoes, and vomited the offending fruit all over Kawaguchi's plate and lap. The spoiled devil resumed eating as if nothing had happened, flicking any tomatoes off of her plate.
Mahdi chuckled, and Kirishima spoke over him. "Lastly, there is Kurosaki Hiroshi. Kokoro's father."
He would be the logical choice, but Asami was not convinced he had the balls or bucks to pull it off. Though Kokoro's family had money, it was not nearly enough to buy kidnappers. At most, they were aiding a more sinister partner. And that opened up possibilities like Feilong and Mikhail.
"Get men on all of them," the fixer ordered. "I don't care what they do, what laws they break, who they kill, I want all of them interrogated within the hour."
It was a tall order, impossible even. But Kirishima Kei specialized in the impossible. "Of course, Asami-sama," both he and Suoh lifted their cellphones to their ears.
Something was bothering Akihito, deep in his lower intestine. And it was not crappy sushi. The men who had tried to take him were foreign. They sounded almost Eastern European. Not Japanese. Was Asami looking at the wrong people?
"My entire arsenal is at your disposal," Mahdi was promising.
"I may use it––"
"Asami-sama," Suoh's low voice shook. He snapped his phone shut, and squeezed his eyes closed tightly, bracing for the lightning storm. "A package has arrived for you."
***Sunshine***
Thank you all for reading, as well as the Kudos and reviews. They keep me going, and inspire me to write! So a thank you to: MaximumXXcorruption, Shane, Mika Sun0802, Xxsakurachan97, SageSapis, finderlov, xDarklightx, rion-rion, Kunoichi of the Moonlit Night, The Yaoi Pimpette, Kichou, Miyanoai, Belle'Masque, Suspicious Crow, and one Guest. I read all of your reviews over and over again. This has been a particularly bad week for me, so thank you for the support. Being a part of this community is a pleasure, and I asm so grateful to every one of you!
And I am taking a poll: do you want drama and violence in the next chapter, or do you want the backstory on how Asami came to be a daddy? Both will be done, the order just depends on your preference. In the next chapter, we will find out what was delivered, who the foreign henchmen are, and who the baddy is. You lovelies get half of the say, and gets the other half. Whichever choice has more votes will be the one that is written. Until next time!