A/N:

Thanks to Miyanoai for looking over this. And thank you for the support that you all have given the fic. I know it's been a bumpy ride, so I appreciate you all more than you'll ever know!

I hope that the last chapter wasn't too traumatic. I just had to do it! It's been on my mind for a while, and I think it's important for us to see the characters outside of Asami. He's so overpowering that everyone else can get obscured, and I'm trying to get away from that.

There is quite a bit of dialogue in the chapter, and the next one as well. I have to get everything set up for the action and drama. Bear with me, because once it starts, it's going to be a gory shit storm. Enjoy!

***Hurt***

Chapter Three: In the End

"Move!"

Hisana shoved a nurse out of the way. The woman stumbled, bumping against the white wall with a startled gasp. The tray in her hands clattered to the floor, but they did not stop running. Hisana was in flip flops, and her dress flared behind her like a bell. The duo had barely made it through their first course when Ueda knocked on the door.

Akihito's heart hammered in his chest. No. It was impossible. This couldn't be happening. It was Asami. He was invulnerable. Not even Fei Long managed to kill him, and the Baishe leader had impeccable aim. No. Not Ryu.

It was a media circus outside the hospital. Suoh managed to keep them out of the actual building, but it was only a matter of time before a lowlife vulture snuck in. They were clamoring about the death of Asami Ryuichi. Cameras flashed, paparazzi screamed out horrible questions. Did anyone know if there was blood? Had he suffered? Was it true that he barfed all over himself? Or that he had bitten through his tongue? They circled like sharks, embellishing any detail they could glean. It was the story of the century, and no one wanted to miss a second of it.

The limo pulled into the parking garage until its nose touched the elevator doors. Journalists and photographers took as many shots of it as they could, trying to see what heiress or actress was in it. Surely the man's rumored love would come to comfort him in his final minutes. They had no access to the garage, so neither Akihito nor Hisana tried to hide their face as they ran for the lift.

"He's fine," Akihito kept muttering over and over and over and over again. The elevator slowly crept up the floors, taking its sweet time. He could hear every turn of the gears, every shift of weight as the jam-packed lift rose. Suoh was taking no chances, and it looked like every goon was on duty. "It's Ryu. He's fine. He has to be fine. He's been through worse. Yeah, he's totally okay."

Hisana said nothing. Her face was as white as milk, as she stared off into space, lost in her own thoughts. Akihito did not notice. He could only think of Ryu, of his large hands, his deep voice, of the vitality that coursed in his blood. Yes, his lover was strong. He might be hurt, but he would pull through. Asami always did. Tonight was just another bad night, but it was not the end.

Please. God, please let him live.

"Where is he?" the heiress demanded, her breath coming in harsh snorts.

Ueda could barely keep up with her. "The private ward, Musume-sama," he panted. "344."

"Directions, Ueda!" She did not have time to wander through the labyrinthine halls.

"Left, and then two rights," the guard had become extensively familiar with the hospital while Hisana was in surgery.

Two guards stood on either side of his room door. They barely moved out of the way before Hisana burst in, Akihito on her heels. "Daddy," she gasped.

Kirishima and Suoh both rose. They had been sitting beside the crime lord, who struggled to breathe. Akihito's stomach plummeted to the ground. Asami was hooked up to a respirator. There was barely any movement in his chest. His lungs were not sucking in enough life sustaining oxygen, and the skin beneath his swollen eyes and saggy cheeks was tinted blue. IVs were plugged into his arms, rushing medication and fluids into him. He did not move, did not stir. If it weren't for the faint beep of the heart monitor, Akihito would have thought that he was looking at a corpse.

No, Akihito floundered to a stop, his heart stilling in his chest. That could not be Asami. Impossible. The strong body that he knew so intimately was struggling to live: to draw in his next breath, to keep his heart beating. He had just seen Ryu a few hours ago. His lover could not have been reduced to such an enfeebled state so quickly.

"Daddy," Hisana's breathy exclamation was as weak as her father's heartbeat. Dropping to her knees, she tentatively reached for his stiff hand. The fingers did not even twitch as she kissed his palm.

"No, no, no" Akihito wailed. His throat was swollen, but he could not cry. It was so surreal. Not Asami. The fixer couldn't die. Not now, not like this.

"Kirishima," Hisana's voice warbled, but there were no tears in her voice either. Could no one cry for Asami Ryuichi? "What happened? How…? Daddy, no…"

Kirishima took a deep breath. His own body shook from fatigue as his adrenaline wore off. The moments after Asami's seizure happened so quickly. Kihara boy forgotten, the secretary had rushed to his boss's side. The fixer's tense body had gone lax, and he had not been breathing. Kirishima had only reacted, not able to process what was happening. Shoving his fingers down Asami's throat, he pressed as hard as he could. The fixer had wretched, and his body convulsed. His stomach contents rushed back up, spewing over Kirishima's hand. The man managed to turn Asami on his side so that his vomit would not choke him, but it pooled onto the floor and soaked into his suit.

"He was poisoned," the man reported, his gravelly voice faltering. "It was a cocktail of tetrodotoxin and pavulon. Homemade."

The girl's eyes flickered as her brain decoded the information. "That's…fugu. I mean, a sodium blocker and a paralytic. That's almost… but that's not the right inhibitor. Kirishima, that doesn't make sense."

"The doctors say that there was no anesthetic in the cocktail," Kirishima supplied.

Anesthetic? That struck Akihito as odd. Why would someone mix an anesthetic with a poison? Dead was dead, and poisons were meant to murder. He was so confused, but Hisana seemed to understand what the CFO was saying. Her cheeks etiolated, her red mouth dropping. "Oh my god," her face scrunched up, and she looked like she was going to be sick. He didn't understand what they were talking about. "What sick bastard would make it like that? Why––how is he not dead?"

"What's the big deal?" Akihito interrupted. Frustration surged in his blood. It did not matter what type of poison was used. Asami was still nearly murdered, might be murdered if he did not pull through. "Why are we worried about the poison when it's already killing him? Do we not have the antidote for it?"

Hisana inhaled wetly, but it was Suoh who answered. He had been silent until then, but the sight of Hisana's hands shaking as she felt for her father's pulse was too much. Walking around the metal bed, he gently lifted the teen up. For a moment, Akihito thought he was going to hug the girl. Then the giant pulled his arms back, and led the girl to a chair.

"A lethal injection is given in three stages," he told Takaba. "First, an anesthetic is administered to prevent pain. Then a paralytic. It is usually a potassium blocker, which prevents the muscles from contracting, and stops the patient from breathing."

Akihito immediately recognized the difference. He did not know much about physiology, but Asami had not relaxed. He had seized up. Hisana had said something about a sodium blocker, so that must have been the difference. Licking his lips, the photographer wished that the body guard would stop talking. It was clear just how Asami had been poisoned, and Akihito suddenly wished that he did not know it.

"Lastly, the condemned is given pavulon, or a similar drug that stops the heart," Kirishima finished the explanation. "That's how the government executes people."

"How is he not dead?" Hisana repeated. "Ingestion is not as fast acting as intravenous injection, but it's still quick."

"The doctors think that he expelled most of it from his system when he vomited," Kirishima told her. "And since the cocktail was premixed, it had time to separate. Those are the only two things that may have saved his life."

"May?" Akihito gasped. There was still a chance that Asami might die. A lethal injection was designed to kill, and to have no cure. It would be touch and go for a while.

"You said tetrodotoxin," Hisana accepted the tissue Suoh offered. "That's the same poison found in fugu. Is that why they're filtering his blood?"

Kirishima nodded. "Yes. He's also scheduled to receive regular transfusions until he is stable."

"So they're going to bleed him," Hisana's eyebrows furrowed. Akihito shuddered. Leeches made him sick.

"Yes," the secretary did not hold back on the gory details. If Asami's family wanted answers, then he would give them. "Asami-sama will also be on the respirator until the poisons have been flushed from his system."

"Oh my god," Akihito groaned as he ran his hands through his hair. This couldn't be happening. Not Ryu. The way Kirishima spoke gave Akihito some glimmer of hope that the fixer would survive. Hisana's agonized expression belayed her disbelief. "What are his chances?"

Kirishima looked helplessly at Suoh, who kept his hands on Hisana's shoulders. They both were just as devastated. "You can't quantify something like this, Takaba." The breath left the photographer's body. Not good, was the translation. Kirishima did not think that Asami was going to survive.

"Can we trace the agents?" Hisana asked. "It's not like it's a common mixture."

"We're already sorting through it," Kirishima replied. "It's going to take several hours, though. Apart they are not extremely rare. Pavulon is a watched drug, but tetrodotoxin isn't." The girl sat in her chair, leaning forward and her hands clasped. It didn't look like she could move or tear her eyes away from her beloved father.

Akihito jumped to his feet. Restlessness grabbed ahold of him, demanding that he do something. Energy coursed through his blood, tinged with desperation. There had to be something more than they could do besides wait. He itched for adrenaline: to do something, anything. Something to help Asami.

"Aaaugggh!" he raked his fingers through his hair.

Kirishima's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. "What––"

A camera flashed several times. Akihito turned slowly, eyes wide as Hisana's out dropped open. A man with slick back hair and dark brown eyes snapped a few more pictures, zooming in on Hisana's etiolated face and Asami's chest tubes. Akihito recognized him instantly. Mita Yuuta was a freelance photographer. He chased after every celebrity that had ever breathed. Nothing was sacred or off limits to him, and he had the balls to keep pushing for a better shot. Out of everyone in Japan, Akihito was not surprised that he was the paparazzo who managed to finagle a way in to the hospital.

"Smile, Missy!" he grinned as he held the camera up again.

"Suoh!" Hisana cried out, instinctively holding up a hand to block her face.

The gargantuan man lunged at the sleazy journalist. He grabbed the camera in one swipe, gripping it so tightly that Akihito could hear the plastic crack. Mita's eyes widened in irked disbelief, but as persistent as ever, he pulled another camera from his trench pocket, albeit a much smaller one. He quickly snapped a succession of pictures, making sure he got each person's face. A newspaper would pay big money for the names and faces of Asami Ryuichi's inner circle.

Akihito saw Mita's eyes flash in recognition when he looked at Akihito's face. Fuck. Unless he acted quickly, his entire life was going to be blown wide open. The world would know that he was in love with Asami, and his career and credibility would be shot. Reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. Swiping left, the flash lit up the room and he heard himself shouting, "You aren't stealing this scoop from me!"

Hisana snorted, and then glared at both of them. Akihito took several quick photos. They were useless, but he wasn't actually going to send them to print. "Like hell it's your scoop," Mita snarled. The idiot believed that he stumbled in on Akihito trying to get a picture of the heiress. Perfect.

Suoh and Kirishima understood his plan quickly enough. Kirishima grabbed at his phone, yanking it from his fingers. Taking ahold of the photographer's wrist, he spun him around. Akihito's arm was pinned behind his back as Kirishima slammed him into the wall. "Ow," he muttered, face squished tightly. That had actually hurt.

Kirishima released some of the pressure on his back, but did not let go. It looked like he had just taken down an assailant, and Mita was eating it up.

"You can't do that!" the greasy guy was protesting vehemently. "That's assault!" There was another flash off to Akihito's right. Mita must have taken a picture of Kirishima manhandling Akihito. "This will make it into the papers, too! You can't beat up journalists because you feel like it!"

Yeah, Akihito really would not call what Mita did journalism. Neither did Hisana, because her voice joined in the din. "Get them both out of here!" she cried. Her acting was a little too hysterical for Akihito to fully believe it, but it conveyed her message. "Out separate entrances. And confiscate anything with a camera. No one needs to see him like this."

"You heard the lady," Suoh roughly grabbed Mita's sleeve. "Get out.

"This is stealing!" the man whined. "You can't take my property! I paid for that camera! For both of them!"

"Let's go," Akihito heard Suoh lift Mita off of the ground. The man gasped and wheezed, but still struggled. Kirishima pulled Akihito off the wall, arm still pinned behind him. The blond put up a struggle just for show. The secretary's grip on him was not tight, and if he wanted to, Akihito knew that he could twist free.

"Pay attention to everything, Takaba!" Mita shouted over his shoulder as Suoh manhandled him to the stairwell. "We'll sue the shit out of these dicks! And Asami's estate!"

Suoh shoved Mita through the door. It clanged open, slapping against the cement wall. Akihito jumped, startled by the loud noise. "Keep calm, Takaba," Kirishima whispered to him. "Just until Suoh gets him out of the building and searches him."

The door slammed shut behind Suoh and Mita, Kirishima released Akihito's arm. Still looking at the stairwell, the photographer rubbed his aching wrist. Damn, Glasses was strong. "Can you tell Suoh that Mita usually has cameras stashed everywhere? He's infamous for getting the shot, no matter what happens."

Kirishima nodded. Suoh was professionally thorough, and he had never missed a camera. Still, Takaba Akihito seemed to rarely send them on wild goose chases. "I'll let him know," he took out his cell phone.

Akihito walked back into Asami's room. "Hisana, we've gotten rid––"

Hisana stood over her father, gold eyes blazing and a gun in her shaking hand. The soles of his shoes squeaked as he skidded to a stop. Fuck. He had not thought to take Asami's gun, nor had the guards apparently, which was weird because said fixer was in a hospital gown and nothing else. Akihito had never seen such unbridled hatred, but it danced like flames in her molten eyes.

"Hisana––" he started to speak, but fell silent when a man in a white coat spoke over him.

"He'll need to say overnight at the very least. Thirty-six to forty-eight hours would be ideal.

"No, ideal would mean that he was healthy and at home, and the bastard that did this was dead," Hisana snarled. She did not look at Akihito who choked on his own breath. He knew enough about Asami's illicit world to know that you weren't supposed to go around listing everybody who you wanted dead. Or your intentions to kill them.

The doctor glanced at Akihito but reverted his attention to Hisana. Being the one with the gun, she was the one who needed it. "Asami-chan," the man said softly. "He's going to make it through this. I haven't let either one of you down, yet."

"It isn't safe for him to stay here," Hisana said softly. "Those vultures are swarming."

The doctor nodded, and Akihito realized that he was probably looking at Reiko-sensei up close for the first time. This was the man who was entrusted with the lives of the Asami family. He was most assuredly the best doctor in Japan if he could handle such a responsibility. "I just need the night to stabilize him. Besides, it's going to take some time to set up a viable room. I can't release him to just any place, even if it under your care. It has to be sterile, and up to code."

"How long will that take?" Hisana looked over Akihito to Kirishima, who had silently entered the room.

"I can get started on it as soon as Reiko-sensei gives me a list of the requirements for such a room," Kirishima replied, an iPad in his hands. "Beyond that, it should just be hours to complete the project. You own a sizable share in Chiba Emergency Medical Center, and your father was a donor to Keio University Hospital. We should be able to get all the necessary equipment between them."

"Do it," Hisana ordered. "The sooner we get him out of here, the better."

"Where will we go?" Akihito finally found his voice. He noticed that Kirishima referred to Hisana as the owner of the hospital. Akihito wondered if she owned properties and investments outside of her father. It would make sense that Hisana would diversify and not wait for Asami to relinquish his business to her. The likelihood of that ever happening was slim to none. "Another safe house?"

Hisana shrugged, and opened her mouth to answer, but Suoh interrupted her unknowingly. "Mita Yuuta has been escorted off the grounds," the man reported as he walked back into the room. "We've also pushed the barricade back another three meters."

"That won't stop them," Hisana ground her teeth together. "They're going to keep coming after him."

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way," a thought struck the photographer. All four heads turned to look at him, finally giving him attention. It wasn't like he had been talking or anything. He pulled out his cell phone. "The only reason that they're trying to get in here is because it's all a big mystery. They want to see Asami. Maybe we should let them."

"Expose him when he's most vulnerable?" Hisana's eyebrows knotted on her forehead, her words venomous. She did not possess her father's implacable calm, nor was she able to control her emotions so easily. Then again, she was still young and had never sat on this side of the hospital bed. Akihito was freaking out, too, but people did not feel the need to console him the way they coddled Hisana. To be fair, she was the one holding the gun. "That would be like offering his head on a silver platter to our enemies!"

Akihito held up his hands. "We can control it if we release it to the press. Make them focus on something besides Ryu."

Kirishima ended his phone call. "What are you suggesting?" The twenty-four year old was cunning, and Asami had always trusted him.

"Let's take a picture of you," Akihito gestured to Hisana. "Give them the face of the girl people whispered about all summer. It would be all people want to talk about, and it would take the focus off of Ryu."

Her scowl softened, and she nodded her head. "Let's do it."

Suoh stepped between them, looming like a mountain over them. "It will put an ever larger target on your back," he told Hisana firmly. "And it will destroy all the measures your father enacted to protect you. I strongly advise against this."

"I'm with Suoh-san," Reiko-sensei spoke up. Akihito had forgotten that the doctor was still present, and had not realized that his opinion was valued until Suoh nodded. "Your father would not approve of this. He wanted to keep you safe. Both of you," he looked between Akihito and Hisana. The photographer's stomach turned. He had not realized that Reiko-sensei had a dossier on him, and was responsible for his healthcare as well. Had this been the man that treated him after his close calls, his escapes and bouts of unconsciousness?

"It isn't up to either of you," Hisana replied coolly. She nodded at Akihito. "Mom can take the pictures. Mita already saw him, here. It gives him a readymade story to tell his colleagues."

Akihito held up his cell. "I can get the pictures off this," he suggested. "Unless someone has a camera on them."

"Everybody out," Hisana motioned with both of her hands. "We need to make this look good."

***Hurt***

It took roughly thirty minutes to get the right picture, but once he saw it, Akihito knew that it was perfect. It conveyed the emotion, the drama, and the surprise all in one look. So when he sat, two days later, looking at the picture that fronted every paper in Tokyo and maybe Japan, he felt a swelling pride. Yes, it was a good photograph, but he was more pleased that his plan worked perfectly. People still talked about Asami Ryuichi's life hanging on by a thread, but now they were not so interested in the macabre. His empire would not go to waste, would not be stripped by his opponents and eventually dissimilate.

Heiress Found!: Unknown Daughter of Asami Ryuichi Surfaces!

He was quite proud of his article. Kirishima provided the necessary documents to back up his claims, and gave him enough filler to make it a full page spread. Akihito talked about Asami's boyhood flings and how such promiscuity would come back to haunt the billionaire. He wrote about Hisana's education, her time in Europe and even hinted that she was romantically involved with another of Tokyo's bluebloods.

He tried to keep it as realistic as possible while keeping the family in a good light. His editor loved it. He did not even question Akihito about the sources or how he was able to dig up so much unknown information. The picture was really what did it. Hisana was in the middle of standing up when he snapped it, her hand outstretched and her body hunching over Asami's protectively. Her eyes positively glowed, her hair still curled but haphazardly twirling around her face and her pointy teeth were bared, as her burgundy lips snarled. She looked like a Eumenide, snarling and snapping her teeth. There was even a good bit of cleavage in the shot, which he had wanted to Photoshop out but his editor disallowed.

Other tabloids and papers quickly picked up the photo and the story. They all bought copies of it from his paper, which earned him a high stipend. Once upon a time, Akihito would have been thrilled; now he was only sickened. Some people slandered the family, blatantly accusing Asami of being involved in Kurosaki Kokoro's disappearance, and others focused on the scandalous illegitimacy of it all. Bastard took on a whole new meaning for Akihito in those days.

"Good morning, Takaba," Suoh entered the condo without knocking. He and Kirishima had been in and out constantly the past two days. There an entire army of goons staked in and around the penthouse. Suoh obsessively stalked the perimeter, checking for weakness in the defense, switching their shifts at random intervals with almost no warning. His dark eyes scanned the room, making sure that nothing had changed. He was as a regimented perfectionist as Kirishima, and he seemed to take his job even more seriously now, something Akihito had not thought was possible.

"Morning," the photographer poured a second cup of coffee. He quickly learned how the behemoth took his. "Did you get any sleep?" Suoh had been over until the wee hours of the morning the previous night.

"A few hours," the man accepted the steaming mug gratefully. It was the third of many to come. "Enough to get through today. Is Kirishima here?"

Akihito pointed to the terrace. "He's taking a phone call."

"Hmm," the blond murmured, taking another sip. "I need to brief Ueda and Nakao before we leave. They'll be the ones in charge of the security here."

Akihito shifted. It was a big day: the first day of business without Asami at the helm. Monday had come at last, and it meant that it was time to return to Sion. The business had been neglected for two days, so it was imperative that today went well. Today they would know if Asami's empire would stand strong, or if it would crumble. "Okay," he gripped his mug tightly. He was staying home today, much to his editor's chagrin. They were contemplating releasing another story, but wanted to see how today went first. If they gave the article a green light, Akihito would rather work from home, and stay by Asami's side.

"How is he doing?" Suoh asked, his back to the photographer. Akihito pretended that he did not hear the trepidation in his voice, as Suoh pretended that he was not afraid to visit Asami's bedside. No one wanted to see the waxen faced fixer struggle to breathe.

"No change," Akihito's voice struggled to stay audible. "Reiko-sensei is taking him off the anesthesia this afternoon, so he will wake up soon."

Suoh nodded, but did not say anything as he walked away. Akihito's shoulders slumped. They just had to make it through today. Resilience and optimism straightening his spine, he walked into the third bedroom. Originally it was his workroom, but once he knew where they were moving Asami, he insisted that they use it for his sick room. It had the most outlets, and the medical equipment had a lot of plugs. Hisana was fluffing Ryu's pillow. "Hey," he said softly.

"There's more color in his cheeks, don't you think?" she brushed back Asami's flaccid hair, her voice shaking. "He looks like he's getting stronger."

"Ryu is a fighter," Akihito replied just as quietly. "He's going to be fine." She sniffed loudly, and looked up, trying to keep the tears in her eyes. "You look beautiful," he told her, because, fuck, she was as beautiful as her father. Her long hair slicked back into a tight bun, and winged eyeliner slicked above her eyes. She looked every bit the powerhouse that Asami Ryuichi was. For the first time in two days, hope flared in his chest. "You'll do great today."

"I won't let him down," Hisana promised. "I can do this."

"He would be proud of you," Akihito reassured her. Not many people would dare fill his shoes so quickly, or presume that they were capable of running his company. When Hisana announced at dinner the night before that she would run her father's business while he was incapacitated, Akihito was stunned. Honestly, it had never entered his mind that she could or would do it. He assumed that Kirishima would keep things afloat until Asami was back on his feet, and that Suoh would step in if necessary. Hisana was young and had absolutely no experience in the business world. The readied acceptance of Suoh and Kirishima startled him further, but looking at her now in a power suit with her father's stern expression, Akihito found his faith burgeoning. "And I'm proud of you, too."

Hisana flung her arms around him. "Thanks, Mom," she whispered into his chest. Akihito hugged her back tightly. God, it felt like his world was slowly falling apart at the seams, and there was nothing he could to fix it except wait and pray.

There was a knock on the door frame. "Asami-sama," Kirishima spoke softly, but the look in his eyes was that of a proud father. "It is time to go."

Hisana pulled away with a jerk of her chin. Smoothing her skirt, she buttoned her suit jacket. "Have a good day," he told her, as if he was saying goodbye to Ryu. "I'll see you tonight."

"You too," she said while Kirishima helped her into her trench coat. It was snowing outside, beautiful thick flurries that begged to made into snowmen. If it had been a normal weekend, they would be bundling up to play in the snow and saying good day to Ryu. Every eye in the condo was fixated on them, listening to their conversation. Akihito was getting so used to their hovering presence that he almost forgot that they were there. The guards watched the transition of power, the passing of the torch, and in that moment, Akihito knew that they would obey her as if she were Asami. "Call me if you need anything."

Akihito nodded. "You too," he scratched Asimov behind the ears. The massive pit bull, who had gotten slightly portly during his months in Japan, sat beside the photographer. He had not left Hisana's side since the fixer was first wheeled in to the penthouse, giving her the support and love she needed. Now that she was leaving, the faithful mutt gave his affection to Akihito.

The door closed behind her. He stood in the genkan until the elevator doors chimed as they slid shut. Ueda and Nakao said nothing as they followed him back to Asami's side. The rest of the guards kept their vigils, and prayed that nothing happened during their shift. Sitting back down in his chair, he was grateful that Ueda and Nakao chose to wait outside. He just wanted a few moments alone with his lover.

"Hey," Akihito said as he took Asami's limp hand. "She's right, you know. You're looking better every time I see you."

Asami was unresponsive, not reacting to the photographer's voice or touch. Reiko-sensei said that the fixer could hear everyone who spoke to him, so Akihito talked his ear off. "It's Hisana's first day as CEO. I'm sure she'll do flawless," he chuckled mirthlessly. "She is your kid after all. She's got to be an asshole at heart, just like you.

"Please, Ryu. You need to wake up. You can beat this, I know you can. Please, for me. I can't do this on my own. I love you. So please, come back to me."

Asimov trotted into the room. With soft whine, he laid down beside Akihito's chair. Together, they kept watch as they waited for Reiko-senei to come. It was going to be a long day.

***Hurt***

A/N:

Of course Asami isn't dead! I've been thinking about killing him off, but I haven't decided yet. I am honestly not sure if I have the balls to do it. Also, if I don't know, the characters don't know and that keeps their fear a little more genuine. In my opinion, anyway.

Have a great week everybody!