Still Raining

Still Raining
Sequel to: On the Street of Dreams
Written by: chochowilliams
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Summary: Ayaka is used to getting what she wants and what she wants now is Eiri. And she’ll do whatever it takes to make him hers. Anything.
Chapter Summary: Eiri discovers Ryuichi’s little secret.
Warning: angst, drama, romance, m-preg, language, m/m, hentai
Inserts:
A/N: Thank you to CrimsonBlood363, kaname-luvr, idontsurf, ferler, Mrs Hatake Itachi for your reviews. You people are the best! Hey, if you guys are on myspace or facebook, look me up and add me as a friend. Check my profile for details and links. Thanks!

+---+---+---+

Last Time

Shuichi ran his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt and then tugged at the hem to make sure it was lying straight, which was not very given his current state. Next, he straightened out his collar. Then he smoothed out any wrinkles or creases fixing his collar might have produced. He caught himself as his hands wandered down to the hem of his shirt.

“Stop it,” he reprimanded himself. “Just ring the damn bell already.”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and raised a hand to the buzzer located on the wall besides the double wooden doors. Either the buzzer was moving or he was shaking. Pulling back, he inhaled, taking a deep breath in through the nose, held it, and then exhaled slowly out through his mouth. He did this several more times until he felt the tension start to slowly melt away. It was a technique Ryuichi taught him years ago in order to deal with his stage fright. But this was nuts! Why was he so nervous? It was only Kizou after all. At that, he tried to laugh, but it came out sounding sickly. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he squared his shoulders, stepped forward once again and rang the buzzer.

+---+---+

Chapter 10: Surprises Are Bad for the Heart

Black Dragon Compound - Kita-ku, Kyoto, Japan

It did not take very long for his arrival to be noticed.

There was a loud clang from the other side of the doors. In the silence of the hot morning, the sound seemed unnaturally loud. It startled Shuichi, causing him to jump and utter a little gasping yelp. The twins growing within his belly seemed to sense his fright, for they woke suddenly from their slumber and made their presence known. He rubbed his belly in soothing circles, making soft hushing noises to get them to calm down, while at the same time, his own anxiety was at an all time high. One of the two large wooden doors creaked open. He gulped and fidgeted nervously. When a familiar head popped out, he stilled. “Narata?”

The large dark eyes blinked at him slowly. First, his face was carefully blank and then the surprise and shock took over. “Shu?”

Shuichi grinned at the sight of his old friend.

At forty-five, Nagataka “Narata” Matsushina was only a few years younger than Kizou, which made him nearly twice as old as almost every other member of the Black Dragons. In a past life, he used to be a police detective here in Kyoto. He started his police career in Homicide, then when he made detective, he transferred to Special Victims, but quickly transferred back out. He wound up in narcotics where his first assignment turned out to be an undercover job. His mission? Infiltrate the Black Dragons. He was to gather enough evidence that would bring the gang down for good.

Things did not turn out exactly how his superiors had envisioned.

Narata was the first person to befriend him when Kizou wrangled him into joining the Black Dragons. Narata was the only one who’d had no sexual interest in him. While that knowledge had been a huge relief, it had also been taken with a grain of salt. In a household where more often then not, you woke with someone’s hand down your pants and someone else’s tongue down your throat, Narata’s abstinence had been very suspicious. It took some time for Shuichi to be able to trust that what Narata claimed was true. After that, the two of them became very good friends and would sit and talk for hours at a time, sometimes about nothing at all.

Narata opened the door wider and stepped out. He glanced the singer over, pausing briefly on the swelling belly. If possible, his eyes grew wider. “Holy crap! You’re pregnant!”

Shuichi chuckled. “Yah.” He ran his hands over his belly. Somebody’s foot slammed against his hand. It was hard enough to take his breath away.

“You okay?” Narata asked him. Concern was written all over his face. He had stepped forward with his arms outstretched, but he hadn‘t touched him. While he looked worried that something serious had happened there was also uncertainty because he was unsure what it was he should or could do if it turned out something serious was wrong.

Catching his breath, Shuichi nodded. “Yeah. Just kicked a little hard.”

Relief flooded through the ex-police officer. Instead, Narata tossed his head back and laughed. “My oldest was like that! Always kicking and moving. My wife was convinced Abi was claustrophobic.” He laughed again.

An unborn baby claustrophobic? Was that even possible? It sounded ludicrous.

“And then when Abi was born, she proved just how much she disliked tight spaces, you know, where she did not have the space to move and flail about, by screaming every single time she was put in her stroller or her car seat,” Narata laughed.

Shuichi shook his head at that.

“Anyway,” Narata continued, “you look great.”

Shuichi blushed madly. “Thanks.”

“What brings you by? Have a concert in the area or something?” Crossing his arms over his chest, he centered his weight and regarded the younger man before him.

“…Actually.” Shuichi dropped his gaze to his sneakers. They contrasted sharply against the blackness of the surface of the road. “I need to speak to Kizou.”

Narata blinked. It took his brain several moments to process what it was he just heard. “With the boss?” Even then it made no sense. It surprised him that Shuichi would want anything to do with Kizou, especially given the way the two of them had parted.

Shuichi nodded, but said nothing.

“Shu.” He wondered what would bring Shuichi all the way from Tokyo to see an ex-lover that had, quite literally, thrown him out with the trash. If Kizou were able to have children of his own, then Shuichi confessing in his drunken stupor that he was pregnant would not have been such a big deal. Even if the child turned out not to be his, he still would have raised it as if it were, but the fact that he could not have children, having Shuichi hanging around, pregnant, was like being sucker punched. Besides, it was obvious that Shuichi had a bright future ahead of him. The last thing Shuichi needed was the shadow of the Black Dragons hanging over him like a black cloud.

“Please, Narata. I need to see him.” Shuichi lifted his head and gazed at his old friend, his violet eyes pleading with him to understand. “Is he in?”

There was a slight hesitation before Narata spoke. “Actually.” He glanced over his shoulder at the manor. “He’s extremely busy this morning.” He turned back to face the pink haired, pregnant singer. “There was some sort of trouble in Hong Kong,” he explained. Yes, it would be better if Shuichi just turned right back around and went back to Tokyo.

“Please. It’s…Tell him it’s, it’s about…his son.”

Narata’s eyes grew wide.

+---+---+

La Esperança Cafe - Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo

With a crumbled piece of paper in her hand, Mai Shindou stood out on the sidewalk outside the café where she had grabbed a light brunch. On one side was her son’s address. On the other side was a second address. This one was only a short train ride from here. She’d gotten the address from her daughter who was home from school early because of a water main break at the school or something. Her nerves were starting to flare back up. The longer she stood there staring down at the address, the worse they became. One of Shuichi’s neighbors claimed her son was going to be spending the night with Eiri. As he had not been at his place, this was the next logical place to search. Should she drop by? What if they weren’t home? Then again, what if they were? Would Shuichi slam the door in her face? Would he welcome her warmly? All this uncertainty was making her nauseous.

The condominium her son started renting after he and Eiri split up, or so the tabloids claimed, was located right down the street. Shuichi and Eiri had released statements, both together and separately, several times denouncing what the tabloids continued to spew. They were not on the verge of a divorce. Yes, they were currently separated, but still very much in love. Of course, most people did not believe them. How could they? It was clear that Shuichi Shindou had taken his son and moved out of the condominium he had shared with Eiri Yuki for the last two years. That it happened not too long after Shuichi was caught by paparazzi going into a local pharmacy and buying a pregnancy test did nothing for his denies of infidelity. She understood now that the test he was caught buying was for Maiko, but others refused to believe the truth. The question on their mind was this: if there was no infidelity and they were still together, then why did they not live together any longer? Of course, under certain circumstances, sometimes couples were forced to live apart. She, honestly, could not understand why a happily married couple could not live together, no matter what the circumstances. A marriage was not a marriage if nothing changed after the vows were exchanged. Long distance relationships never worked.

No matter what the reception her visit received, this was something she had to do. The longer she stalled, the worse her relationship with her son was going to become. She did not want to become a stranger to not only both of her sons, but her grandson as well as her sons-in-law.

Steeling herself, she folded the crumbled piece of paper and stuffed it into her pocket before heading down the street to the train.

+---+---+

Sakuma-Uesugi Residence - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan

As Tatsuha pushed through the swinging door into the living room, he heaved a tired sigh. A hamster running in its wheel. That was exactly what he felt like when he was speaking with Ryuichi about Shuichi and Yuki. It did not matter how hard, fast or long he ran. He was going nowhere quick. The man was more stubborn than a mule. It was hard to believe, but Ryuichi Sakuma was the type of person who held a grudge, especially if the slight was against someone he cared about. The fact that Yuki’d had no qualms about throwing his pregnant self off the roof of the old record company building was not something Ryuichi was going to easily forget or forgive. And he understood that. He really did, but still, no matter how much Ryuichi wanted to erase the fact, Yuki Kitazawa was Shuichi’s mother. It was something Ryuichi was going to have to deal with eventually and the sooner the better, though, knowing Ryuichi like he did, Ryuichi would prefer later over sooner. He just hoped it did not back fire on his husband. Okay, so maybe that was not exactly accurate. Part of him wished it would. Petty it may be, but true it was nonetheless.

“Woh there,” he cried out. Just as he stepped into the living room, a blur of color sped passed him. He grabbed the squirming mass, nearly losing his balance in the process as the two year old, despite his un-lithe-like body structure, was very much like his mother: swift and flexible. “Trying to make a break for it, huh?” He held his nephew- or was that grandson? - over his head. The door swung shut behind him. “Huh?” He tossed little Takanori up into the air. “Huh?”

Little Takanori squealed with laughter.

Eiri broke off his conversation, if it could be called that for he was not doing any of the talking, with his husband’s brother and glanced around sharply. Honestly, his son was too much like his mother. You took your eyes off him for a second and he disappeared. They both needed leashes. Or maybe tracking devices. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted his son with his brother.

Ryuichi chuckled lightly at the changing expressions on Eiri’s face. “You’re such a father.”

Eiri rolled his eyes. Whatever. “Better be careful,” he warned turning towards his brother. There was a mischievous glint in his eye. “He just ate.”

“…Yeah, hello to you too, Aniki,” Tatsuha greeted his, slightly, older brother as he put an immediate halt on tossing his nephew into the air. Instead, he held him under his arm like a stack of books. “So, you really did let Shu go off to Kyoto alone,” he commented with a glance around.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he regarded his brother. “I did not ‘let’ Shuichi do anything,” he corrected.

“Oh, really,” Tatsuha smirked. He had to laugh at the expression on Eiri’s face. It looked like he was sulking.

Little Takanori started squirming and proclaimed loud and clear that he wanted to be put down.

Eiri narrowed his gaze. He knew exactly what was going through Tatsuha’s head and he did not like it one bit. “Shuichi made the decision to go talk with Kizou by himself and once Shuichi decides to do something there is no changing his mind.”

“So you didn’t even try to talk him out of it?” Tatsuha he set little Takanori down before all his squirming caused him to drop the boy.

Little Takanori ran across the living room to the large steamer trunk where his toys were stored.

Eiri rolled his eyes. What was he? Suicidal? “Please.”

“Afraid to end up on the couch?” Ryuichi teased.

Eiri snorted. “Damn right.” Except for one or twice, up until last night, he’d been on a forced abstinence ever since Shuichi decided that he needed to see what being his own man was like. Withdrawal was an ugly, ugly mistress. He never wanted to go through that again. Ever.

“But,” Tatsuha spoke up. All the teasing had vanished from his voice and his expression. He was all seriousness. “Do you really think that man is really little Takanori’s father?”

“Who knows,” Eiri shrugged.

“Have you ever seen him?”

Eiri shook his head.

“Hm.”

Ryuichi glanced over his shoulder at his grandson. He’d never seen Shuichi’s ex-Yakuza boyfriend either, thank God for small favors, but all it took was one glance at little Takanori to tell that there was someone else looking back at you, someone who was not Yuki Kitazawa or Taki Aizawa. He blinked. “Where’d he go?”

“Who?”

“Little Takanori.”

Eiri whipped around. His son was gone. Again. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake.” He really needed to implant a tracking device in that boy. He swept his gaze over the living room. The door separating the bedrooms from the living room was moving. He sighed. “I’ve got him,” he announced, moving towards the door his son had just gone through.

“Slippery little devil isn’t he?”

“Oh, you’ve got no idea,” Eiri mumbled.

Tatsuha’s laugh was cut short by the door swinging shut.

The first room he came upon was the bathroom. Empty. Ryuichi’s home studio. Empty. Shuichi’s old bedroom. Empty. The guest room was next. It also functioned as the prayer room. That too was empty. The last room was the master bedroom. At first, it appeared to be empty, but then he noticed that the closet door was slightly ajar.

Eiri sighed. Always getting into something.

Crossing the room, he pushed the pocket door into the wall and stepped into the closet. The darkness swallowed him instantly. After some fishing, he found the light switch. Once the closet was flooded with light, he spotted his son in the back sitting on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

At the sound of his father’s voice, little Takanori whipped his head around. “Hi, Daddy,” he greeted with a smile.

It was his mother’s smile. Dear God., Eiri thought. “Hi, Takanori.” He squatted. “You know you aren’t allowed in here, right?”

“Eiri?” came the distant call from his brother-in-law.

“In here,” he called back.

“Here Daddy.”

Eiri frowned as his son handed him a pen. “Where’d you get that?”

Instead of answering, little Takanori handed him the yellow piece of paper he’d been doodling on.

“What’d you get into now?” Curious, Eiri took the proffered paper. He hoped this was not something important. Little Takanori had a habit of drawing on anything and everything. Once upon a time, he used to have a first edition of Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass that had been in mint condition and estimated at about two hundred thousand American dollars. “Used to” being the key word. Now it had colorful doodle marks all over the first five pages.

It appeared as if what little Takanori had been doodling on was a document of some sort. There was official looking writing on the back, but it was hard to make out underneath his son’s pen marks. Great. This was why Shuichi always kept his sketchpad on him at all times. “Takanori,” he sighed. What was he going to do with him? When he flipped the yellow document over, he went still. “What. The. Hell?”

“You find him?”

A wave of anger washed over him. Slowly, Eiri turned around. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom with Tatsuha behind him was Ryuichi Sakuma. His eyes went hard.

At the expression on Eiri‘s face, Ryuichi began to panic. “What happened? Is-?”

“What the hell is this?” Eiri demanded.

Ryuichi recognized the yellow paper in Eiri’s outstretched hand. The color drained from his face. He suddenly did not feel so well. “Oh, God.”

“You have some explaining to do.”

---TBC---

Preview: “Confession Is Good For the Soul”

A/N: Short I know, but I wanted to get it out. Besides, in the next chapter, Shuichi sits down with Kizou and Ryuichi sits down with Eiri. Stay tuned!