Well, this is pretty big plot wise, once again, feedback greatly appreciated.
This is the most nervous I have EVER been to post something. Purely because of the content.
Asami stared down at the paper Kirishima brought up to the penthouse that morning. His secretary was shifting nervously, waiting for the order on what to do.
Waiting for Asami to roll the dice. The throw that would change everything, and everyone.
He looked down at the photo on the front page, and the crime lord knew, he knew that this photo was different from all the others.
Asami and Kirishima had been stopping these sorts of photos before they hit the publishers for a long time, ever since Takaba came into their lives, only a few here and there, the photographers had all been disposed of, gone without a trace, along with the photos they took.
Most of the photos could have been covered up with a lie or a story, but not this one.
There was only one truth in this photo, and it was out there, for the entire world to see.
Asami had to admit, he knew it was bound to happen, sooner or later.
He was prepared for it, he knew what he was going to do, but this photo… was not like all the others. It changed everything.
It hit him with a truth that even he hadn't realized till now.
Did he really look at the boy like that?
Did the empty wind of his heart caress the trees and whisper all the unspoken words between them?
Did his golden eyes really look as if they burned for only him?
Did it really look like he built his empire to untouchable reaches just for him?
Had he always cupped the boy's chin that way, so preciously?
Since when did he loom that protectively, his shoulders a shield to protect the smaller figure embracing him?
He looked back up to Kirishima, and Akihito entered the office to stand there, half dressed and shivering. He looked like he was freezing.
Asami could tell he knew about the photo somehow, for Akihito stood there expectantly, waiting.
He could see the uncertainty in his eyes, could see his mind ticking over on the precipice.
There would be no pretending anymore, the media would be out like a flock of hungry carrion birds, it didn't matter, Asami would shoot them all down, and he would keep shooting them down. Akihito was his and he would not give him up to anyone or anything. Akihito didn't have a choice. He never did and he never will.
"Kirishima, stop any further publication, send the paper into bankruptcy and find the photographer that took this photo."
He turned to Akihito, who still looked vulnerable standing there in his own skin, baring his soul for Asami to either crush or caress.
His question still hadn't been answered.
"Akihito, put some clothes on, or I will take it as an invitation."
With that, Asami tossed the paper in the bin next to his desk, certain that his choice was the right one.
The boys eyes lit up for a second, sparks blazing in the endless fields of hazel. The fire of mischief, the fire of his Akihito.
"Yeah right, bastard, I will wear what I want in my own house."
"Oho, is that right? Kirishima, I'm taking the day off, it seems Akihito needs to be reminded of who holds his leash."
"Yeah yeah, yeah, you say that all the time, don't mind me Kei."
Akihito turned on his heel and strutted out of the room, Asami knew there was more on the boys mind, it was a much bigger issue then this.
That photo, there was no way to cover up that photo.
"Kei, I really am taking the day off." Asami said as he rose from his chair to follow Akihito back to the bedroom.
He found the boy shivering in bed, his phone on the comforter in front of his crossed legs, staring at it as if it were poison. It was in a way, filled with venomous messages from colleagues and reporters, toxic stingers were hidden in each message.
"My dad…." Akihito said, forlornly.
There it was, Asami hadn't got there in time to stop the entire blast, the damage had already been done, and they both knew it.
Making his way onto the bed, he pinned the body underneath his, rubbing the fabric of his suit against Akihito as he rested on his elbows, trapping his lover beneath him.
He nuzzled into the soft skin of Akihito's neck, breathing in the source of his contentedness. The scent of his ambition and his driving force, the reason for his unquestionable role as King of the dark.
He knew that photo didn't lie, he could feel it in his bones as he kissed that sweet neck. Connecting with a person like he never had before.
Asami, the darkness of yin, had found his other half, the light of yang, Akihito.
"It doesn't matter Akihito," the crime lord whispered into his neck, "All you need to do is trust only me, breathe only for me, exist only for me. Don't ever forget it."
And so he did, the light existed only for the dark, until it was overrun.
They made the relationship public, sending Tokyo into a frenzy.
The backlash from the media was enormous, Akihito lost his livelihood, his passion, no one would hire him again.
In fact he had trouble getting any jobs at all.
He couldn't even go out in public for fear of the harassment.
He tried meeting up with Kou and Takoto, who eventually forgave their friend for hiding everything from them, but they only ended up getting sucked into the media's storm, so Akihito stopped seeing them altogether, not wanting to involve his friends in his problem.
He took it all on his shoulders, the weight of their relationship finally resting heavily on the younger man.
Akihito didn't belong anywhere, Asami's people looked at the boy with disgust and disdain, the rich snobs never bothered to hide their hostility.
He had no place in the world, he was an outcast, a recluse that didn't fit into any of the molds of society.
So he confined himself in the penthouse, locked himself away from the world.
He did indeed exist only for Asami. He breathed for Asami, the only thing he had was Asami.
The only place he belonged now, was the penthouse on the 31st floor in Shinjuku.
But it wasn't enough. Waiting the long days at the penthouse for Asami to come home started to take its toll.
The light started to dull, living for Asami wasn't enough.
He was trapped in a cage of their own creation.
Trapped in the webs of their messed up relationship. The poor little fly struggled to break free of the web, but he had entangled himself much too much, he was stuck the moment he met Asami Ryuichi.
He gave up struggling.
The yakuza tried everything, he went to the Takaba family, only to have the older Takaba, Akihito's father, sneer at him and slam the door in his face.
On his way back to the limo, a hysterical woman, Akihito's mother, came pelting down the pathway, pummeling her weak tiny fists into Asami's arms, crying for her boy back. It looked so pathetic.
'Give him back to me' she said.
Asami couldn't do that, Akihito was his.
He went to his friends, and they asked him to let Takaba go.
'He doesn't belong with you.' They said.
To Asami, that was the only place that Akihito belonged.
To Asami, the only place Akihito belonged was the penthouse on the 31st floor in Shinjuku.
Asami had trapped him in a cage, where Akihito was on display only for him. It was wrong, Takaba was meant for the world, he was meant to shine for everyone.
The fire that was Akihito couldn't burn with Asami as the only source of fuel.
He should have known that from the start, but his need to possess had blinded him.
And so the crime lord could only stand by and watch as Akihito started to shrink away before his very eyes, the eyes glazed over, clothes became loose and skin became pale.
After a few months, the fire went out, doused by alcohol and sleeping pills.
That was the only way the young man got any sleep at night.
He refused to acknowledge his depression, he kept claiming he was alright, he wouldn't let anyone in to quell his madness.
He kept on trying to carry the burden alone.
Asami came home, later then usual one night, thinking he had a solution to the problem, he had brought a giant estate outside of Tokyo, intending to move his head quarters there, there were mountains and valleys, wild life and endless fields of green. Fresh air and new life.
It wasn't the stagnant white penthouse that reeked of day old hate and rotting self-contempt.
He hoped it would unlock the confines of Akihito's mind, hoping the fresh air would stoke those flames once more, burning the venomous thoughts inside his mind away.
The toxic thoughts that had been recycled for months on end in the penthouse, re-circulated into the boys head without anywhere to be purified, gradually building up their noxiousness.
Kirishima and Suoh followed him into the dark penthouse, Akihito normally left the lights on for them, and no matter the time, was still usually there to greet them, it was the only thing he had to look forward to each day.
Cautious, the trio drew their guns and begun to stalk throughout the penthouse suite.
They heard the gunshot that came from the bedroom, and made their way as one to the source of the noise.
Asami's heart was frozen in his chest, it knew. It knew that its source of heat was gone. Asami knew exactly what gun fired that shot.
They found Akihito slumped against the headboard, his head lolled to the side in death.
His life essence splattered in a display of red on the pristine white wall behind him, the bullet had gone all the way out the other side.
Asami's world stopped as he made his way to cradle the frail figure in his arms, feeling the boy's last warmth drain from his body, feeling the still warm blood ooze out the giant hole in the back of his head.
The last warm thing Asami Ryuichi would ever feel. He was already going cold, going colder faster then the lifeless body he was rocking against his chest.
Colder then the antique steel that Akihito still had in the hand that pulled the trigger, the very antique gun he had tried to throw out once, if only Asami hadn't brought it back home. If only he had come home at the usual time.
If only he had made the right choice.
He sat on that bed all night, cradling the small body, whispering thousands of apologies, he whispered all the unspoken words that he never said, he whispered until his lips were numb, all the words that he should have said.
And then he cried, each silent sob a confession of his feelings.
He sat on that bed all night until the red stopped flowing, until the blood went cold, until the red on the wall dried and turned black.
Until everything turned black.
His two loyal friends stood vigil the entire time, listening to each whispered word in that quiet bedroom, searing it into their minds lest they forget.
Lest they forget the memory of Takaba Akihito.
Takaba Akihito, the resilient young man that had brought them all a little out of their own darkness.
They paid their respects to their young charge, the weight was finally too much, he had finally given up his fight and freed himself from the cage the only way he knew how.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
It was 3am the morning after the first explosion at Sion when the crime lord woke with a start, he found his lungs empty, and his bones hollow, clutching the pillow that Akihito once slept on.
Once he stilled his beating heart and managed to breathe again, he got up and made his way to the secret room, to make sure that that gun was really gone.
He had gotten rid of it after the first night he had that dream, months ago.
He told Kirishima to simply throw it away, and the secretary had looked at him like he had two heads. It was worth a small fortune.
But to Asami it represented everything he loathed, it represented the figurative gun that Asami had selfishly pointed at Akihito's life.
To him it was worth nothing.
He checked the gun safe to make sure it was really gone, and it was.
Not that it mattered anyway, he made the right choice this time.
These walls wouldn't trap him, couldn't cage him. Asami had made sure of it.
He made his way back to the bedroom, double taking as the bulge of blankets looked too close to what the lifeless body in his dreams had looked like on that bed.
Instead, he went to linen cupboard for new blanket and settled on the couch.
He couldn't sleep in that bed again, the bed that reminded him of his worst nightmare.
Well, it's midnight and I just finished typing this, and am eager to post it to get it the nerves out of my system and sleep.
If you couldn't tell, the italics were Asami's dreams.
Any questions message me, if you have flames keep them to yourself.
Hope this chapter makes sense hahaha. I am tired.