A/N:

I'm glad that everyone buckled their seatbelts for the bumpy ride. It's gonna get a little crazy up in here, but it wouldn't be Viewfinder if it was rainbows and sunshine.

Thank you Miyanoai for being my beta.

And has everyone seen the teaser for the Deadpool movie? I'm squealing my head off, over here. He's my favorite (hero, superhero, anti-hero, villain: you name it!) His movie is going to be amazing, and I think Ryan Reynolds is going to do him justice. The writing/dialogue certainly seems that way.

***Hurt***

Chapter Two: My Sweetest Friend

"You went where?" Asami Ryuichi's voice was dealt as he stared at the panting photographer. He had been in the middle of a very important phone call with a Saudi oil tycoon when his lover barged in, waving his hands. Kirishima knew to let him in immediately. It was rare for Akihito to visit him under the best of circumstances. To see him so pale, gasping for breath and not remotely perturbed that Asami was threatening to emasculate someone, had the fixer quickly ending his call.

Akihito waved his hands. "Yeah, I didn't know it was Sakazaki's club. But that isn't the point. He knows about Hisana."

Kirishima opened the door to let Suoh in so that the Chief Security Officer could hear the bad news. Asami's eyebrows nearly merged with his widow's peak. "That's impossible."

"No," Akihito's chest was heaving. He was in shape, but man it was a long run from Devisee to Sion. He licked his lips, looking for any moisture that he could find. "Kawaguchi…he told him."

Asami looked at Kirishima. "I thought I told you to eliminate him," he eyed his employee.

Kirishima pushed his glasses further up onto his nose with his third finger. "We dealt with him two months ago during a prison riot. He was killed along with four other inmates, including Matsumoto Rai."

Akihito remembered the riots. They were a bloody mess. Five inmates died, another eleven were injured as were two guards and one visitor. The media attributed it to gang violence. Matsumoto Rai was part of an Okinawa syndicate, but he had turned state's evidence in exchange for life in prison. It was unsurprising that his own gang had murdered him. He was responsible for several of them losing their lives and others being arrested.

Asami nodded, pleased. Kirishima continued speaking, "I did not anticipate him selling information to Sakazaki or others. Else wise, we would have ended him earlier."

"Our trip to the prison was not covert," Suoh interjected. He did not want his friend to be punished for not being able to anticipate every enemy's move. Further, they all were to blame for their carelessness that night. It was one where delicacy was a liability that they did not have time for. "He could have made a few inquiries and found out that we interrogated Kawaguchi."

"I agree," Asami knew that he was just as culpable as his men. He had been inconsolable in his apoplectic rage, and cared for nothing but finding Hisana. "It is likely that Sakazaki approached Kawaguchi, not the other way around."

Kirishima nodded his head, accepting Asami's judgment.

Golden eyes narrowed. "Find her, and have her brought back to the penthouse," he ordered his best men.

They both bowed, realizing that they had been dismissed. Suoh was pulling his phone up to his ear as he left the room while Kirishima shut the door. Akihito shifted uncomfortably, only now noticing the tension that radiated off of Asami. The crime lord's glare was molten lava, burning holes in his clothing. Kirishima and Suoh must have realized that Asami was upset. It explained why they were so quick to escape his office. "Did he touch you?" Asami's baritone voice was a hair's breadth above a whisper.

Oops. Akihito had not even thought about Asami's reaction to the pervert trying to grope him. Akihito did not like to be molested, but it so wasn't the issue. "Just to make a point," he tried to play it off like it was no big deal. "He was more interested in what I knew about your kid."

"What did he do?" Asami stood up behind his desk.

"He touched me and offered me a drink," the photographer gulped. He really was thirsty, though. "I don't suppose you have one, though? I told him no."

"A wise move," Asami's office had a water cooler. Not high tech or unusual, but the fixer kept it stocked with some ritzy water from Fiji. It was super expensive, and Akihito swore it tasted like all other water. He accepted the proffered glass, gulping down the water like it was fine wine. Then and there, it tasted like Olympian ambrosia, or better yet, like it was worth every single yen Asami spent on it. "Where?"

"Huh?" the photographer wiped his mouth. Turning his back on his lover, he refilled his glass. Damn, he must be dehydrated or something. He usually didn't need to chug water like that. Maybe it was the nerves. He still needed to tell Asami his theory that Sakazaki was Matsuhara's secret financier.

Bad idea to give his back to Asami. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, flipping his around. The crispy water arched in a glistering wave, drenching the floor and both men. Akihito yelped, but his lover did not notice. Briefly, Akihito wished he could keep his composure the way that Asami did, but when he looked into the man's eyes, all thoughts of coolness left his head. Asami looked like he was ready to rip someone's arms off. Considering how it was Akihito that he was holding, it was precarious situation for the photographer. "Ryu, what––"

"Where did he touch you?"

He managed to put the glass on something nearby without getting too far out of the fixer's hold. Akihito touched Asami's jaw tenderly, eyes scrunching. "It wasn't sexual," he promised his lover. "He was taunting me. That's all."

Asami knew his little lover very well. The fact that Akihito was dancing around the question let him know that he wasn't going to like the answer. Hands slamming against the wall, he refused to let the boy calm him down with tender touches. "Where, Akihito? Don't make me ask again," he snarled.

Akihito sighed. Grabbing Asami's hand, he pulled it down to his inseam. "Here," he thrust Asami's hand between his legs. Instinctively, Asami cupped his hand, grasping Akihito's pants and dick in one motion. "He asked me if I was still a man, or if I was the girl that you slaughtered a hundred people for."

The photographer looked away from his lover, embarrassed. Sakazaki kept getting one up on him, always causing tension between him and Asami. He was trying to get into Akihito's head, fuck everything up and more importantly, use him to ruin Asami. That was why Aki did not want to tell his lover exactly what happened with the yakuza: Asami would want revenge and might get reckless when he became carried away.

Asami stiffened. The blood left his face as his eyes turned red. "Are you all right?" Asami's voice was gentle despite the anger that syncopated his heart beat. It was more important to make sure that Akihito was not hurt. He could kill Sakazaki once his lover went to sleep. "Did he hurt you?"

Akihito sighed gratefully. He dropped his head onto the fixer's chest, slowly breathing in and out as he tried to calm himself. He expected his lover to lose his temper: shout, throw things, and rattle Akihito's bones. Asami had slowly been mellowing out over the summer. The assurance of Akihito's love was enough to tame the savage crime lord, but old habits die hard. The man had slipped into his old ways when provoked, and no one seemed to get under his skin like Sakazaki. "I'm fine, Ryu. I promise."

Asami titled his chin up. Gold eyes shined as he gently pressed his lips to Akihito's. "Good," he murmured, their lips still together. "You know how I worry."

Worry. Akihito was worried. Gripping his lover's wrists, he pulled Asami's hands away from him before he could get swept up in emotion. "I have a theory," he said. "I think Sakazaki was Matsuhara's backer."

"What makes you say that?" Asami's eyebrows furrowed. His body was flush against Akihito's, pinning the boy to the wall. When it was Asami, Aki did not mind being immobile. "He knew nothing of Hisana before Kawaguchi."

"Yeah but Matsuhara did," pointed out the photographer. "All they had to do was meet at an 'I Hate Asami Ryuichi Convention' and the rest would be history. He might even be lying about Kawaguchi to cover his tracks."

Asami ruminated for a brief moment. There were no such gathering as far as he knew, but it was well known that he hated Sakazaki. If Matsuhara wanted to get his revenge badly enough, he might have been willing to contact the scumbag. Sakazaki did not come cheap, and he had the balls to look overseas for hitmen. Akihito's theory was cogent, and Asami was slightly embarrassed that he had not thought of it earlier. They had clandestinely investigated some of his more influential enemies, especially ones with known ties to the west. Sakazaki had never left the country, nor did he do business with many foreigners. If he had wanted the element of surprise to make his move, he had chosen his moment well.

"I'll have Kirishima look into it," Asami pushed himself off the wall. He was back in business mode, straightening his impeccable suit jacket and running his fingers through his coiffed hair. This may have been the break that they were looking for. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he sent a quick message to his CFO.

Akihito followed his lover to his desk. "How much longer do you have?" It was a Friday night, and he had no plans. Not since his investigation was ruined.

Asami did not immediately sit back in his office chair, preferring to stand next to his lover. They both knew that Friday nights were reserved for 'off the books' business, of which Akihito usually shied away from. "A few more hours, at least. I need to call Tahan back and threaten to shove his balls down his son's throat. Among other things."

Akihito flushed, suddenly a little light headed. "Among other things?" he said faintly.

The corners of Asami's mouth quirked up. "Yes. Other things." Pressing a kiss to the twenty-four year old's forehead, Asami brushed a straying wisp of blonde away from the boy's face. "Go home to Hisana. I'll see you in a little while."

"Please be safe," the photographer gave his lover one last kiss. "I'll wait up for you."

"Always," Asami put his hands into his suit pockets. There were more pressing matters than getting his photographer undressed. Every instinct in his body chaffed as the boy walked towards the elevator. His blood thrummed at the thought of marking Akihito, erasing every touch and memory of Sakazaki. Asami knew that the photographer had chosen him, and would always choose him, but the thought of another man even looking at Akihito sent him into a rabid fury. He itched to rip Akihito's clothes off and fuck him hard against the elevator wall. He would, and soon, Asami promised himself.

There was one little bit of business that he needed to attend to before he could go home for the weekend. Akihito insisted that Asami be home for most of the weekend. It gave them a semblance of normalcy, as if they were a typical blended family. A family life was important to the young man, so Asami did as he was bid, and carved out most of the two days for his family. If only his child wasn't there. Then he could have Akihito naked for two full days a week.

As the elevators doors slid shut, Asami's cool facade cracked. Kirishima stood at attention, ready for the fixer's orders. He had briefly wondered why Asami claimed to have business to finish rather than go with the blond. Tahan Hassim had been the last item on the itinerary before the weekend. "Get the car," Asami's gold eyes were gelid. "We're paying Sakazaki a visit."

***Hurt***

"Okay, so I get why I was manhandled back home at ten o'clock at night," began Hisana. She lay on her back, head draped over the arm of the couch. She tossed a tennis ball into the air and caught it as she spoke. "And I get why you're a little freaked out."

Akihito snorted. Freaked out was putting it gently. He had known that the danger was not gone, not that it ever really was. But out of sight, out of mind, and he had forgotten how terrifying it was to wait for the next attack. At least they had gotten some warning rather than getting swept away in a sudden shit storm like last time. Now they could prepare for the onslaught.

"What I don't get is why I just got an email saying that my plane ticket to Barcelona has been refunded."

"Hmm?" He had no clue what she was talking about.

"You know how I was supposed to visit Charlisa over winter break?" It was Asami's birthday present to Hisana and Christmas present to Akihito. Let the girl visit with her friends and have some modicum of freedom, while Akihito could walk around butt naked for two weeks. Living as a family meant there was some lifestyle compromises, and neither had realized how stifling it could be. Usually the compromises were worth it, but Akihito did hate having to pull rough cotton over his raw ass after Asami plowed it for hours on end.

"Yup," he was looking forward to the trip.

"My plane tickets were just refunded to my account," Hisana pointed to her phone which sat on the coffee table.

"Your dad must have had Kirishima cancel the flight," Akihito bit his lip. He had been sitting at the end of the sofa, with her legs thrown over his lap. Standing up, he went to grab a beer from the fridge. Asami must have been taking his story seriously if he was canceling a trip that wasn't scheduled until after Christmas.

"But why?" Hisana whined when she was displaced. She dropped several inches off the sofa, her head nearly touching the floor. Akihito glanced behind him. All he could see was her long hair spilling onto the floor. It looked kinda like the grudge was laying in wait for him, and he so didn't want to go back into the living room. "I mean, it's three weeks away. We'll have this business wrapped up long before Christmas."

"Do you really think so?" he popped open the imported beer. They had to get a bottle opener because, like father like daughter, both Asamis preferred a bottle to a can. "It's been months and Ryu hasn't managed to get a tangible lead."

"Grab me one too!" Hisana called when she heard the beer fizzing. "And what are you talking about? He got one tonight!"

Akihito kicked the fridge shut, "We'll have to see if it works out. Here."

Hisana grunted as she pulled herself upright. "Thanks," she took a quick swig of the dark beer. "It's going to. Dad hasn't made it home yet."

Akihito glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. "You noticed too?"

She nodded. Grabbing a game controller, she flipped through the game settings while Akihito untangled his cord. "I'm betting he went to have a chat with Sakazaki."

"That one," Akihito nodded to the desert scene. "He said that he needed to call a man named Tahan."

"The oil guy?"

Akihito shrugged. His dexterous fingers danced over the game controller like Kirishima's on a keyboard. Yoshi's tongue shot out, making Link stumble backwards. "I guess. I don't keep track of these people like you do."

"I don't know why you don't," Hisana pouted as Samus flew off the edge of the screen, surrounded by a softly glowing ball. "It's kind of your job."

"I don't want to cause trouble for Ryu," Akihito admitted. Samus charged Yoshi head-on, and he had to fight to keep her at bay. "Plus, the papers don't pay much for that kind of story. They're much more interested in local smut."

"Like Hitachori Naoyuki?"

Akihito nodded absentmindedly. "Exactly," he said as Captain Falcon blasted Yoshi. The little green dinosaur cried out as he flew off the platform, flailing as he fell into the bottomless pit off screen.

"Sorry that you didn't get your story," Hisana shot at Captain Falcon and Link, who tried to gang up on Samus. "I know you like to work."

He did enjoy maintaining his independence, even if it was only in his mind. Plus, he had birthday and Christmas presents to buy. Why did he fall in love with a ridiculous rich bastard and the bastard's daughter, who was ironically a genuine bastard. "I'll get a new scoop on Monday." If Asami could not work on the weekends, neither could Akihito. Rules were rules.

"I'll sleep with him," Hisana offered nonplussed. "We can set him up that way."

The screen went black, thankfully, because Akihito's brain shut down. "What? No way!" His mouth dropped open as the controller slipped through his fingers. "You can't be serious. He's got to be forty years older than you!"

"So?" the girl shrugged insouciantly. "I'm sure I've done worse––"

Akihito threw his hand in front of her face. "I don't want to know. Oh God, I can't know!" He drug his hands down his face, pulling his lower lip down to his chin. Fuck, he was going to be sick. Hisana wasn't supposed to be having sex with anyone after Mahdi, especially not some epicurean sexagenarian. Even if it wasn't gross, Asami would forbid it if he found out. He didn't like another guy looking at Akihito, so the photographer could only guess how terrible it would be if someone hit on his precious daughter. "Besides, Ryu would kill me."

"You? Never," was her blasé reply. "Hitachori most definitely."

Akihito was firmly against the death penalty, regardless of the scenario. All human life was priceless in his eyes, and worth protecting. No matter what. "He needs to have his nuts cut off," the photographer amended.

Hisana shrugged. She could live with that.

"So…how was your date?" he had been dying to know. She had met some boy at a meet-and-greet for Keio University. She still argued with Ryu about Oxford, and it seemed that the crime lord was relenting. That was why she was visiting Charlisa at the end of the month, to see if she could handle herself out of the country. Now that the trip had suddenly been canceled, it was good that she had looked at the school just to pacify her father. If Akihito had not known better, he would have thought that Asami arranged the entire thing.

"You mean, the hour that I was there?" Hisana furled her lips. "Fine. The lobster was excellent."

Of course it was. The kid was from old money, like a super old family and all that jazz. They owned a dozen casinos spread across Asia. They had been out a few times, but Aki got the distinct impression that the family did not approve of Hisana. Though Asami was her public last name, no one had publicly connected her to Asami Ryuichi, and Asami paid a pretty penny to keep it that way. They probably thought she was a gold digger trying to get her claws into the family heir early.

"Did he seem upset that Ueda whisked you away so quickly?" Akihito tried to sound like a sympathetic friend and not a nosy parent. Leave that to Ryu.

Hisana shrugged. The new game started. Now Akihito played as Kirby. Hisana refused to give up dibs on Samus. "He's got suits following him around. Shichirou understands."

"Shichirou?" Akihito wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You're on a first name basis already?"

"Pff, please," Hisana rolled her eyes as Samus sucker punched Mario. "This is modern Japan, and we're young. No one from our generation uses last names. It's so anticipated and you know I don't do old."

"Unless it's Hitachori," Akihito could not resist the taunt.

Hisana spit out her beer. "Eww!" she squealed and rapidly stomped her feet.

Aki joined in, laughing until it hurt to breathe. "So…sorr…sorryyyyyyy!" he nudged her shoulder playfully. The girl was laughing and shuddering and completely disgusted at the thought of touching some old dude's dick. So much for her cool bravado earlier. "I couuullllld…n't hellllllp iiittt!"

"I mean," Hisana's chest heaved as she gasped for air, breathing in loudly through her nose. "I know I said I would, buuttt…" the girl shuddered dramatically. "Bleh!" she stuck out her tongue like she was gagging. Obviously, the offer was recanted and Akihito was slightly proud that he was able to make her rethink bad decisions covertly.

Levity quickly fading, Akihito really looked at Hisana. She seemed happy, her eyes glittering and her smile genuine. She and Kou were still hanging out, though even Kou was speaking in terms of friendship and not omias. Still, he had to ask. "Hisana, have you heard fro––"

"No," the teen cut him off. Her gaze was as murderous as her father's. "We don't talk about him." Five months with no contact made Mahdi Al Madani a touchy subject. Nursing a broken heart was a lengthy process, one that the photographer understood easily.

"Okay," Akihito did not press her. She would come to him when she was ready to talk. "Tell me about Kihara Shichirou."

***Hurt***

His family was fast asleep by the time that Asami walked back into his home. Dawn was almost rising in the east, and he was more tired that his machismo would let him admit. The hunt for Sakazaki had taken most of the night. The man had fled Club Devisee by the time Asami had arrived. It was obvious that he expected Akihito to go running to the fixer, and for Asami to respond immediately. They searched in all the obviously places for the man, but when nothing turned up, Asami decided to call it a night. Not because he was giving up on the hunt, but because he was suspicious of the cacafuego. It seemed like he was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for Asami to follow, and the last thing the fixer would do was be played. Kirishima was investigating the man more thoroughly over the weekend, and they would resume the chase on Monday.

"You're home," was what he assumed Akihito murmured as Asami slipped into the bed beside him.

"I told you I would be home soon," Asami pressed a light kiss into his boy's hair after the blond sluggishly rolled into his arms.

Akihito mumbled some incoherent response, before falling right back asleep. Asami knew that the journalist would not remember the stinted conversation in the morning. Arms snuggly wrapped around Akihito, the fixer quickly fell into a deep sleep. The last thing he thought was that there was light at the end of the tunnel. He was close to finding Matsuhara's backer, and permanently eradicating the threat.

***Hurt***

"You look good enough to eat," Akihito leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Asami was straightening his bowtie in the bathroom mirror. "No one will be able to keep their hands off you."

"Jealous, kitten?" Asami smirked. "That's usually my line."

The photographer rolled his eyes. "Don't let it go to your head. I'm not happy that you're going out on a Saturday night. That's all."

"I would take you and Hisana if it was safe," the fixer stopped combing his hair to look at his boy. "You know that."

Akihito shrugged. Asami had presented him with a new suit, clean and pressed, the week before. He would have gone as Hisana's date, and had to watch socialites fawn over his supposedly unattached lover. The thrill of seducing Asami all night without speaking to him, of looking at everyone but his lover, of pretending he was the elite like Asami, made his blood burn. Hisana would slip off with Kihara and Akihito would suddenly be tossed in the back of the limo, Asami stripping him with practiced efficiency. It would have been a good night. "I know," Akihito replied.

"I'll be home before one," Asami buttoned his cufflinks as he walked out of their bedroom.

"So early?" Hisana asked dubiously. His daughter was displeased by the sudden lockdown. She was just getting used to her restored freedom, and like any unpragmatic adolescent, did not believe that the danger could touch her.

"These galas are full of people who like to hear themselves talk, nothing more. I'll be bored to tears by midnight," Asami answered. "Have a good night with your mother."

"Stop that!" Akihito bristled.

Hisana giggled. "You too, Daddy. We'll try not to make mess."

Asami hummed as he walked to the front door. "Is Kou coming over?" The mess grew exponentially when the brunette meandered in. Being friends with both Akihito and Hisana gave the tech analyst the idea that he was welcome anytime he pleased. If he didn't make his family so happy, Asami would have broken his legs long ago. At least the little shit head stopped hitting on Hisana. Friendship or not, Asami would have stepped in then.

"Not tonight," Akihito followed his love. "He's got a date."

Good. Let him try to get between someone else's legs. Little shit.

Akihito rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what Asami was thinking. "I'll be waiting up for you," he pressed a kiss to the man's lips. "Be safe."

"Always," Asami pulled the grinning boy close. "Stay inside tonight."

"Only because you asked so nicely," Akihito glanced over his shoulder. His arms were still wrapped around Asami's waist, their pelvises pressed tightly together. He groaned, low in his throat. It felt so damn good. "I'll keep an eye on her tonight."

"Thank you," the fixer drawled. His little lover had no idea that Hisana had made the same vow about an hour earlier.

"I'll see you tonight," Akihito called as the front door closed. Locking it, he tottered back into the kitchen. "You want pizza for dinner?"

Gold eyes glinted. "I had a better idea," she smiled devilishly.

***Hurt***

Asami was bored out of his mind. He had only gone to the party for one reason, and so far, that reason had yet to arrive. Until then, he was stuck faking pleasantries and glaring at anyone who talked too much. Camera lights flashed. Socialites swirled in their couture gowns, dancing with any man that they wished to. Laughter echoed boisterously in the ballroom, and the violinist was off pitch. It was so trite that Asami didn't bother to talk to anyone unless he had to. He was above all of this, and Japan knew it.

"ETA on Kihara Shichirou?" he asked his secretary for the third time.

Kirishima raised his eyebrows, but answered regardless. "Fifteen minutes. He is arriving with his mother, Kihara Naomi. His father was too ill to attend tonight."

Kihara Sasakibe had stage three colon cancer. He ran the family businesses from home on his good days, and let his wife manage them on bad ones. Rumor had it that the son was a bit of a goodhearted idiot, who talked more with his dick than his mouth. Asami didn't like him already.

"Have someone grab him the moment he walks in here," Asami ordered.

Kirishima nodded, and pretended his boss hadn't said that twice already. "Of course, Asami-sama."

***Hurt***

"This is ridiculous," Akihito rolled up the sleeves on his silk shirt. "We look ridiculous."

"Fix your tie," Hisana ordered. "And we do not. We look fabulous."

Akihito looked down at his fatuously expensive suit. The same suit that he was supposed to wear out. "We're having a candlelit dinner in the middle of our kitchen, in formalwear," Akihito reminded her. "How is this not ridiculous?"

Hisana crossed her arms. "I have a really pretty dress, and nowhere to wear it. So shut up, and play dress up with me."

She did look stunning in her silver dress. It was cut high, but had a plunging back. The teen insisted that they doll up right. She made Akihito shower, and fix his hair before putting on his suit. In turn, her stick-straight hair was curled and tossed over one shoulder. He would go along with the dinner, just to make her happy. Akihito swore to himself that he did not enjoy dressing up at all.

"This is the stupidest thing I have ever done," he declared just to be contrary.

Hisana smirked. "I don't believe that for a second."

***Hurt***

"That's him," Kirishima whispered into Asami's ear.

The fixer turned away from Takeda Hoshida, who had made his millions from diamond mines, just in time to see a handsome boy walk into the ballroom, a much older woman on his arm. Kihara and his mother. The boy was Hisana's age, and dressed in a crisp gray suit. His hair was slicked back, giving him the look of a movie star, and not the heir to an East Asian casino monopoly.

"Grab him," Asami ordered. He accepted a flute of champaign from a waiter. "I don't care if you're discreet."

Kirishima would be discreet. It was in his nature. But he would move quicker if he felt he had some freedom. Asami would kill the mother if necessary.

The champagne was cool as he sipped from his glass. Takeda's lips pursed, but he nodded in understanding. The rumors of a girl––Asami's new pet, perhaps––had swept across Japan. The miner undoubtedly believed Asami's response to the fop was because of her. "You will have to excuse me for a moment," Asami said to the man.

"Of course, Asami-sa-–" Takeda stopped talking as the glass flute slipped through the fixer's fingers. It shattered loudly on the floor, exploding into ebullient fragments that glittered like diamonds. Everyone turned to stare.

Asami was falling backwards. His legs were stiff under him, his muscles contracting simultaneously. His shoulders drew up around his ears, his jaw locking and his back seizing. As he tried to stretch out, to force his body to move, mind numbing pain crept up his spine. Eyes wide, the fixer realized that the thrashing was his. That his body spasmed and seized, flailing like a skittish colt. He could not breathe, could not see anything except bright lights and blurry outlines.

People were shouting and screaming. Something cold grabbed his face. Glasses fell onto his nose and off of his body as Kirishima shouted to him. Asami could not hear a word the man said. He stopped moving as suddenly as it began, the pain fading until it was a memory.

Darkness clawed at his eyes. Blacking out. He was slipping into the unconsciousness of death. It had happened at last. Someone had finally managed to take out the immortal Asami Ryuichi. His last thought was about his child and his lover. At least, they had not come along. They had not seen him like this. They had not been poisoned and murdered. It had been a good life. Asami could die knowing that.

***Hurt***

A/N:

I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

I had this plot in my head the moment I first thought of My Sunshine. I never thought I'd have the balls to do it. But here we go: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Or is it: you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. It's one of those two idioms.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

I love you, Wade Wilson!