*flips rock* Oh, look what I found; Bound to Happen!
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He lay in a holding cell, sprawled across the thin futon covered in who knows what from criminals who put shame to the label, in one of his best suits. A black suit, it made his gold eyes stand out against the midnight fabric that armored him.
Black and gold. The definition of Asami Ryuichi.
The secrecy of that color black, it cloaked him, the supremacy of that color gold, it empowered him. And for those two colors; he was King.
A colorblind King, who lay flat on his back, his arms crossed behind his head for menial comfort, staring at the ceiling and marveling at the color he could now appreciate; even though the cell was dank.
He'd never considered himself blinded in anyway, he saw everything down to the finest detail, it would be fatal if he missed even one miniscule spec of dust that anyone else would deem insignificant.
He knew the color red, the color that drained from people as their life pooled on the floor about their corpse.
He knew the color black, the black of his suit, the black of his gun, the black of the abyss that was him.
He knew the color white, pure, untainted; free of black.
He knew the color grey, grey was once white, but it had been infected, once that happened, grey could never go back to being white.
Every other color though, was that miniscule spec of dust to him before. Not because he deemed them so, purely because there had been a lack thereof that he wasn't able to see.
He could see it now as the white of the holding cell walls oppressed on the invading black suit in the room.
He could see the color hazel, and the multitude of colors that made it, browns of Italian leather and Cuban cigars, greens of the pacific ocean and dollar bills, and he could see the eyes that belonged to that initial color; hazel.
Takaba Akihito, who'd opened his eyes to every other color, and now he could see the full spectrum.
He would see him, soon. By now, Kirishima would have made the call, and Feilong would have shown Akihito the article he'd arranged to have published in the paper.
He'd done something special to organize that particular part of his plan:
The look on Takaba senior's face would have had Asami laughing any other day, standing open mouthed at the doorway to the Takaba house as he looked at Asami, who was alone with a discrepant brown envelope in his hand.
A man could hate on Asami Ryuichi all he wanted in the press, but when it came to being faced with the real life version, 99% of any media type personnel, shied away in fear, like the timid horse that could feel the dragon coming.
That 1% that was different was the breed like Akihito; and his father.
Once that shock wore off, hostility boiled to the surface, and Takaba snarled as he tried to slam the door shut on the King's face, the man who could go anywhere, wasn't welcomed beyond the threshold of this abode.
This white dwelling with not a speck of black to be found.
He'd been expecting that much and more, so Asami's lightning hand shot out before the door could slam its last word in his face.
The offending door was jerked back, and Takaba senior scowled at him with angry eyes that looked like they hadn't been sleeping much of late. Asami knew that glare well.
There was nothing he could ever possibly say in this situation to explain himself, so instead he handed the man the envelope and let its contents speak for him.
"Is this some attempt to pay me off for ruining my son?" the envelope was taken, but the man no made to move to look at it.
"Look." Was all Asami said. Everything would become clear once Takaba saw the contents of that envelope.
Frowning, Takaba did as Asami suggested, and took out the sheaf of papers and photographs, and his face promptly went back to the one of disbelief as he went over each sheet of information.
Asami waited, waited until Takaba had been through each page, the article written specifically by Kuroda that would have nothing incriminating in it, but would be enough to paint Asami as the villain and Akihito as the hero. That was the truth at least.
The photo of his son that Asami picked out especially for the front page, along every single snapshot of Akihito and him caught together, with the dates on, that Asami had ever halted from print before the one that slipped through his fingers.
"Can you do it?" the crime boss questioned.
No matter if he couldn't, he could get in on the front page any other way, but it had more meaning this way. Asami just didn't have a message to send to the public, he had one to send to Akihito's friends and family as well.
Takaba senior knew the truth about Asami, there was no getting around it, the only option left with this man was to tell him Akihito's true worth.
"What is my son to you?" Takaba eventually asked the question Asami knew would come, the question was empty though, because Akihito's father already knew the answer.
Asami decided to humor him anyway, he stared impassively down at the man who'd raised Akihito, turned him into the person that brought all Asami's walls down and taken away his monochrome lenses; he deserved an answer.
The hiss of flint on steel whispered as he lit a much-needed cigarette, before turning and simply saying; "Everything."
He walked back down the path away from the house Akihito grew up in; and knew that he'd gotten the message across, because just like Akihito, he could read Takaba senior like an open book.
That was how four days later; Asami found himself in this cell, with his plan panning out seamlessly as a plan devised by him only could.
However, from here on out it was out of his hands.
He allowed himself a smile; Takaba Akihito would get the say in what happened next, and like everything Takaba, it never went according to plan.
After what felt like hours of staring at the four corners of the white walled cell, hearing people walk by, and the mummers of the officers who directed stares of disbelief in the direction of his lockup, he heard the colorful ruckus of what could only be one person.
He was here, and not too happy by the sounds of it, he chuckled despite himself, he missed that noise of life.
The fulfilling presence it gave his condo, his office, or anywhere else Takaba Akihito walked. His fire was infectious.
There was a loud buzz, indicating that the door to his confinement had been unlocked, urging Asami to stand as the door was opened.
Officer Yamazaki was standing in the door, looking torn between shutting it again, or stepping aside, but his decision was made for him as a blonde haired anomaly pushed the man aside and stepped into the cell.
Asami didn't see anything else, didn't register Feilong and Yoh appear in the door way, nor the way Yamazaki looked caught between one horrifying beast and another, because there he was.
Akihito snarled, shoving the copy of the front page at Asami's chest. "What the fuck is this?!"