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:
Warning: fantasy, angst, drama, romance, m-preg, language, m/m, hentai, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, Eiri/Shuichi
Inserts:
A/N: Thank you to Kaname-luvr, Selina, ferler, Stoic-Genius for your reviews. I appreciate it a lot that you guys take the extra five seconds to let me know what you think. It lets me know that I’m not talking to myself here. Your reviews are the catalyst that pushes me into finishing what I started. Otherwise, I woulda given up long ago. Thank you!

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

Last Time

He studied Kizou. In the two years since he was forcibly evicted, Kizou seemed to have aged. He looked more as if he was sixty-five rather than the forty-something he really was (or claimed to be). There were lines in places there hadn’t been before, especially around those slightly pinched and up tilted golden eyes that were so much like little Takanori‘s. His mocha brown hair appeared to be thinning and even had sprinkling of gray throughout. There was several days’ worth of growth along Kizou’s chin and jaw. Even sitting down, it was obvious how tall Kizou was. Shuichi was not sure how tall, exactly, Kizou was, but he was definitely taller than Eiri and Eiri was six feet tall. Kizou really did look haggard and worn out, as if he was being stretched too thin. A rubber band can only stretch so far and that was what Kizou reminded him of now: a rubber band on the verge of snapping.

“Doctor’s orders: no caffeine,” he said, choosing to ignore the biting retort. He cleared his throat violently.

Narata glanced down at the younger man. Shuichi was trying to hide it, but it was obvious that he had been hurt by not so much what Kizou said, but by what was not said.

“Hm.” Kizou settled back in his chair behind the desk with his cup of tea. The look on his face clearly said he did not completely believe the answer he’d been given.

“Would you like some juice then?” Narata spoke up. “Or-?”

Shuichi shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Narata inclined his head. “If that’ll be all then…?”

“Yes, thank you,” Kizou dismissed the ex-police officer.

With a bow, Narata escaped as quickly as he could without it being blatantly obvious that he was doing so. He threw one last glance over his shoulder just before shutting the door behind him. “Good luck Shuichi,” he whispered.

+---+---+

Chapter 13: Shattered Hopes and New Promises for the Future

Shindou-Uesugi Residence - Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan

When the elevator came to a stop, Mai Shindou felt her stomach bounce up into her chest and then back down. There was a momentary feeling of weightlessness that accompanied the temporary relocation of her internal organs. She wondered if she would ever get used to it. Shaking off the slightly nauseated feeling, she pushed away from the back wall, unclamping her death grip from the railing, just as a ping resounded. The doors slid open to reveal a brightly lit hallway carpeted in medium burgundy tweed. The walls were painted a tan khaki color. Every several feet there was a wall sconce.

Stepping out of the elevator, she glanced around to get her bearings as the elevator doors slid shut behind her. The crumbled piece of paper that she had scribbled her son’s address on was even more rumbled now than had it had been earlier thanks to her death grip on the railing during her brief ride in the fright car. Maybe she should have put in her purse. If their condominium wasn’t on the eight floor, she would have used the stairs instead of taking the elevator. She wasn’t too fond of elevators, not since she was seven and ended up being stuck in one with her parents during an earthquake. She had never before or since been so terrified. It wasn’t to say she now had a phobia of elevators or of tight confined spaces all together. She just was not a very big fan.

Smoothing out the rumbled piece of paper as best she could, she read the apartment number several times to make sure she had it, and then glanced around. There. It was the door at the end of the hall to her left.

Folding the paper, she slid it into her purse and gathering herself, took a deep breath and forced her feet to start moving.

The more steps she took, the longer that distance seemed to become. She kept chanting repeatedly in her head, “I can do this.” But the closer she got to her son’s door, the more the chant wanted to become, “I can’t do this.” But she steeled herself and her nerves and chased away the doubts.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she stood before the door. The gold numerals glistened as the sunlight streaming in through the windows that lined the hall behind her hit them.

Fixing her purse strap that did not seem to want to stay in one place, giving her hair a little fluff and smoothing out her clothes so they lay straight and neat, she raised a trembling hand to knock.

“Hello? Miss?” called out a soft female voice behind her.

Startled, Mai spun around. Standing behind her was an older woman. It was hard to tell how old the woman was, but she had to be over sixty at least. Her black hair, sprinkled with gray, was secured in a tight bun. She was wearing black dress slacks, a white blouse and carrying a gray carrier. Beady little eyes stared back at her through the bars. “Hello,” she returned with a polite bow.

“If you’re here to see Mr. Uesugi or Mr. Shindou, you just missed them.”

Mai felt disappointment swell within her. They were gone? Oh, no! Here she was, proud of herself, if not slightly sick to her stomach with nerves, that she’d finally been able to gather the courage to come and speak with her son (or to at least try) and possibly get to know her son-in-law and grandson and they weren’t even home. How typically cliché and ironic. Now what was she supposed to do? It had been so hard to come here today. So very hard. Harder than she wanted to have to admit. She’d nearly chickened out several times since she left the house this morning, but she’d taken a big girl pill and beaten back her fears in order to be here, to try and work things out with Shuichi before it was too late. But the welcoming effects of the big girl pill were starting to wear off. She could feel her fears returning. Her courage was failing her. There was no way she would be able to return later when they were home. “O-Oh?”

“Said something about visiting relatives.”

Relatives? Mai latched onto the tidbit of information. Did that mean Ryuichi? “They didn’t happen to say which?”

“Sorry.”

The tiny spark of hope burst. Disappointment rushed in to take its place. “Thank you very much.” She should have known it was too good to be true.

The older woman bowed in return and took her leave.

Her hands clasped demurely before her, Mai pondered. Now what? It seemed ridiculous to turn around and head back home after coming this far, but just like she and Shuichi, she and Ryuichi had their own set of issues. There was no way Ryuichi would allow her to see Shuichi, if that was where he even went. No amount of begging or pleading would get her in through that door. The trust Ryuichi had bestowed upon her to take care of his only son had been shattered, the pieces tossed back into his face. He was never going to forgive her. Ever. While there was a slim possibility of having some sort of relationship with Shuichi, there was absolutely no possibility she would ever be able to repair her relationship with Ryuichi. Some sins cannot be forgiven.

+---+---+

Ryugan Temple - Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan

“Make sure to bring the tea to your father before it gets cold,” Mrs. Usami called over her shoulder to her daughter as she slipped into her loafers.

“Of course, Mother,” Ayaka said from the foot of the stairs.

“Try not to bother him too much,” Mrs. Usami continued as she shouldered her oversized straw bag. “He’s supposed to be meeting with Mr. Raikatuji and his fiancée.”

Torao Raikatuji and his high school sweetheart, Moanna Hyobanshi, had finally gotten engaged, much to the delight of both of their parents, after being together, off and on, since they were teenagers. They had chosen to be married here at the Ryugan Temple by her father next spring, but before the ceremony can take place, it is mandatory that all couples meet with the priest who is to be their officiate for pre-marital counseling (1).

“I won’t.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Okay.”

Ayaka crossed to the front window and watched as her mother strode down the front walk to the street, stopping briefly to say hello to their neighbor, Mrs. Nozaki, before vanishing out of sight. She then turned to the phone sitting on the elm wood thirteen drawer buffet table that her father had inherited from his great grandmother (2). Her slim fingers flew over the keys, dialing a number she knew by heart. Why wouldn’t she? Soon it would be her in-law’s phone number. It only rang three times before the line was picked up and a familiar voice spoke. “Hello, Ms. Mika.”

There was a brief pause. “Ayaka?”

Ayaka giggled. “How are you? It‘s been a while.”

Another pause. “Yeah, I suppose it has.”

“I have a quick question for you.”

“For me?” This was said with surprise.

“If you don’t mind that is.”

“No. No. I guess not. What can I do for you?”

“Well, you know Eiri, right?”

There was a snort. “He is my brother so I should hope so.”

“Well, I was wondering if you would know if he would prefer a traditional wedding or a more Western one.”

Silence greeted her inquiry. It went on for so long uninterrupted that Ayaka was beginning to wonder if maybe they hadn’t been disconnected.

“Why are you bringing this up?” Mika finally asked.

“Why? Silly! Because I wouldn’t want to offend Eiri on our wedding day by walking down the aisle in a modern wedding dress if he would have preferred me in a traditional wedding kimono.”

The silence this time was longer, but finally Mika spoke up. Speaking carefully and with deliberate precision, she said, “Ayaka, dear, you do know that your betrothal to my brother was called off?”

Ayaka’s smile slipped slightly, but she caught it before it fell completely. “Nonsense,” she brushed aside lightly.

“…Ayaka-”

“Really, Ms. Mika. There isn’t any need to pretend any longer. I know the truth.”

“Truth?”

“Of course! When Shindou got pregnant, Eiri had no other option but to marry him. It is the proper gentlemanly thing to do after all. I would never expect anything less from someone as modest as Eiri.” A rush of anger coursed through her at the thought of Shuichi Shindou. Stupid Shindou! Trapping her Eiri into a loveless marriage like that! That tramp! Slut! Whore! Apparently, that Aizawa guy hadn’t been enough for him. No, he had to go after Eiri as well. There was no telling for whom else that little bitch spread eagle. There could be dozens, hundreds even! The possibilities were endless when it came to who had fathered little Takanori. That poor boy. Having to grow up with a mother like that.

“…Ayaka, I don’t know where you got that, but Eiri is happily married to Shuichi. He never intended to marry you. Besides, when Eiri decided to defy the family by marrying Shuichi instead of going through with the betrothal with you, he was readily disowned. He is no longer of any concern to the family,” Mika stated pointblank. “My brother has moved on and so should you,” she added in a more gentle tone.

“Never.” The smile had all but vanished. A determined gleam flashed in her eyes. “Eiri was promised to me.”

“Ayaka-”

“Eiri is mine and I will not give up until he is. No matter what it takes, Eiri will be mine.”

+---+---+

Seguchi Residence - Tokyo Midtown Residence - Tokyo

Mika pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down at it. A mixture of emotions flashed across her face.

This was not good.

Like the majority of the family, when Eiri turned down the arranged betrothal with Ayaka Usami in favor of Shindou, who turned out to not only be a neutral, but already pregnant with his ex-lover’s child, she’d believed her little brother’s relationship with the pregnant teen could only end one way: in disaster.

Their mother had abandoned them not long after Eiri and Tatsuha were born. That knowledge that he had been abandoned and rejected by the one person who was supposed to love him unconditionally had greatly affected Eiri, even more so than it had either she or Tatsuha. The fact that their mother was in fact a neutral had only added to his growing prejudices. Those same feelings remained with him even today, though to a lesser degree, but they were still there in the shadows just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Before Shuichi entered her brother’s life, the prejudices within her brother had kept him from entering a committed relationship. What was the point? To Eiri there’d been no point in getting close to someone who was just going to abandon him in the end anyway. And when it came to neutrals…They’d been a waste of space. Immoral. Disgusting. An insult to everything being human meant.

But then Shuichi came along and her brother seemed to change virtually over night.

The scandal of Eiri’s relationship with Shuichi had been kin to blasphemy. It brought about dishonor and embarrassment for their entire family…according to their grandmother anyway. Her father had not had any opinion either way. He’d also kept his peace when their grandmother, the overbearing matriarch of the Uesugi family, had decided to disown Eiri when it became known that Eiri had actually adopted little Takanori as well as married the child‘s mother. Up until then, there had been some spark of hope left in the family that maybe Eiri would “come around”. She, at first, had been just as irate as well as worried that being involved with Shuichi would bring more harm than good to her brother, but her opinion changed the first time she’d seen them together. It was obvious that the two of them were very much in love.

She could not be happier for Eiri.

So where did that leave Ayaka Usami? Mika had believed that the girl had moved on after the betrothal was cancelled. What reason was there to linger on someone who did not return your feelings? There was a quote she’d read somewhere that said, “Just because someone else likes you doesn’t mean you’ll like them back. I don’t think you have to. No matter how wonderful that person is, or how great they are (3).” Everybody dreaded been turned down by the person they loved and had a crush on and moving on after being dumped was easier said than done, but it had to be done. It was not going to do a person any good to remain affixed on someone who did not intend to ever return their feelings.

And what was this nonsense about Eiri being promised to her? Mika could remember no such thing taking place. They’d been betrothed. Nothing more. Nothing less. It wasn’t as if the Usamis and her father had set up an arranged marriage. One had nothing to do with the other. Not in these modern times anyway. Ayaka only would have married Eiri if Eiri had accepted her. That was what a betrothal was. Even if Shindou had not appeared, Eiri still would have turned the offer to marry Ayaka down. That was the type of man her little brother had been back them.

Ayaka has always had a crush on Eiri, ever since they were little. At first, they used to be good friends. Buddies. Then Ayaka had become too clingy. It was a major turn off for Eiri, who’d stopped hanging out with the girl soon after. Of course, Ayaka had not seemed to understand that she was unwanted. It was apparent she still didn’t.

A buzzing sound tore her out of her thoughts. It was coming from the phone. She replaced the receiver. Her hand still on the slick white handset, she pondered whether or not to inform her husband of this…worrying, she decided, phone call. It could be nothing at all. Empty promises. Empty threats. But what if it wasn‘t?

That was when her mind leaped to that woman that has been all over the news. What was her name? Mami? Nana? Mari? Nari? Whatever. It was something along those lines. She was from some sort of left wing Christian rag or some such nonsense. Probably one of those conspiracy nut jobs. Saw shadows where there weren’t any.

“Whatever it takes.”

She wondered…

Picking up the phone, she dialed her husband’s cellphone. There was no point in dialing his office number. He was rarely there.

He answered after the first ring. “Mika, darling. What-?”

“I just had an…enlightening conversation with Ayaka Usami,” she said, interrupting him.

+---+---+

NG Productions - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan

Tohma frowned as his wife outlined her phone call with Eiri’s ex-betrothed. In all honesty, he had forgotten all about Miss Ayaka Usami. He wanted to reassure his wife that she was indeed making something out of nothing. That there was nothing to be worried about. For some reason, he could not bring himself to say those things. It felt like empty promises.

He did not really know all that much about Miss Usami. What he did know was that she and Eiri used to be friends once upon a time and that she was the only child of a couple who ran the Ryugan Temple. Other then at the get-together several years ago when Mr. Uesugi had tried to set his son up with Ayaka, he’d seen her maybe two other times. Each time, she’d come off as a nice girl, if a bit on the quiet side. This girl Mika was describing seemed like a very different person from the one he’d met.

“So?”

Good question.

NG Productions was in sight. He headed towards the underground parking garage.

“There’s not much I can do, but I’ll have a talk with her.” That, unfortunately, was the most he could do at the present time. Unless, that is, she tried something, which, God forbid, she wouldn’t, but if it came to that and she did try something, then hopefully, it wouldn’t be too late for him to act. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to his family.

“Tohma…”

His wife did not sound pleased. Who could blame her?

“My hands are tied, Mika, but like I said, I’ll try talking with her.”

There was sigh. Then, “At least keep an eye on her just in case?”

That he could do, especially if it turned out she was indeed in league with that Nami Mataguchi. He just hoped that was not the case. A cornered animal was a very dangerous animal.

+---+---+

Black Dragon Compound - Kita-ku, Kyoto, Japan

Scared. No, not scared. Terrified. He was absolutely terrified.

“So, Shindou,” came the gruff, husky voice, breaking through the heavy silence that had followed Narata’s exit.

Shuichi jumped at the suddenness. He was glad in that instant that he had turned down the offer of tea. Otherwise, it would be all over him instead of in him. How uncouth would that have been, especially in front of an ex-lover?

It was not so much as doctor’s orders that he was not allowed caffeine, for his doctor had said it was alright in moderation, as it had been Eiri who had forbidden him to consume anything sweet (unless by sweet he was referring to him) or caffeinated beverages. Surprisingly, even decaffeinated beverages had some caffeine in them, so they were not an option either. Eiri was such a party pooper. When it came to his ingestion of food and drink during his pregnancies, Eiri turned into a ruthless dictator. It was sweet, but at the same time very aggravating.

“Or is it…What was that guy’s name? Yuki?”

“That’s his pen name,” Shuichi answered automatically.

“Ah!”

“And no, I didn’t change my name.”

“So noted.”

Silence fell once again. It was shattered only by the sounds of Kizou sipping his tea.

“Was there something you wanted? Or did you come back for the…stimulating conversation?”

Hot tears prickling his violet eyes, Shuichi blushed hotly, but said nothing. He stared down at his hands clenched tightly in his lap. How was he supposed to bring up something like what he had traveled all the way to Kyoto to say? He was not sure why he just couldn’t come right out and say, “I think little Takanori is your son.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. If it were-

The sound of choking coughing forced him out of his thoughts. When several droplets of liquid landed on his hand, another on his cheek, he lifted his gaze. Panic and a surge of adrenaline rushed through him immediately at the sight of Kizou. The man was red-faced. His golden eyes were wide and glistening with moisture. “Oh my God!” He pushed to his feet. Was he choking? “Kiz-!”

“I’m fine,” Kizou managed to say between his coughing fits.

Biting his lip, Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at the closed office door. Should he go find Narata? Was anybody else awake at this hour? Probably not. Maybe he should call 911. Or-?

“What was that,” there was another series of coughs, “about your son being mine?”

Shuichi went completely still. His violet eyes went wide. All thought fled his mind. He even forgot how to breathe. Had he actually said that out loud? Dear God. He hadn’t meant to! “I-I don’t,” he stuttered without meeting Kizou‘s penetrating gaze.

“Don’t even start Shuichi Shindou,” Kizou snapped. He coughed again. “You better sit your ass down and start explaining yourself. Now!”

Wincing at the irate tone, Shuichi’s mind raced along at lightening speed as it tried to search for a way out of his sudden predicament. He could not help but feel as if he had somehow been transported back in time to that fateful day when, drunk off a single beer, he had opened his mouth to admit to something that he’d been suspicious about for sometime, but had been too afraid to prove either way.

“Shuichi!”

Swallowing a gasp, Shuichi jumped. What was said was said. There was no way he could take any of it back now. What was the point in trying to come up with an excuse to explain what he had let slip? Was this not why he’d come here to see Kizou in the first place?

Clasping his hands over his belly, he rubbed slow, lazy circles in an effort to calm and sooth the suddenly agitated residents.

A stray tear rolled down his cheek. If asked, he would not be able to say why he was crying. Hormones? Or something else? Was it Kizou? Had he, subconsciously, come here in the hopes that everything would be as it had been before? Was he hurt because of the cold callousness he was being shown?

Kizou grabbed a napkin from the lacquered tray and started mopping up his tea spittle. It had even landed on the invoice. Great. Just great. This was all he needed. The sound of sniffling caught his attention. He lifted his golden gaze to Shuichi. His anger dwindled slightly as he took in his ex-lover’s defeated and silent posture. Frowning, he balled up the wet napkin and tossed it into the trashcan beside his desk. He had forgotten how sensitive Shuichi was, especially now that he was pregnant. Sighing, he retook his seat. “So. What‘s this about little Takanori being my son,” he asked again in a gentler tone. When Shuichi turned to face him, he wasn’t surprised to see tears coursing down his face. The sight had his heart breaking. “What makes you think he’s mine?”

Silence.

Kizou sighed again. As much as he would love to be able to father children, to admit that yes, Shuichi may in fact be correct. Little Takanori Uesugi may well in fact be his. Unfortunately, from prior experience, he knew it to be impossible. It was an exercise in futility to even dream such an outlandish possibility was more than just a dream. He could not have children. No amount of wishing, hoping or praying was ever going to change that fact. Life had dealt him a double whammy. First, he’d always had a low sperm count. One of his doctors blamed his lifestyle as one of the possible reasons. Or more accurately, the stress of his chosen lifestyle. Then, when he underwent treatment for testicular cancer, the results of the radiation had not only dissipated the cancerous growth but had also ended up cutting his production of sperm down even more. So, while technically it was possible for him to father children, it was unlikely.

Scrubbing at his wet face, Shuichi reached for his bag and searched among the rubbage for his wallet. When he finally found it, he pulled a small wallet sized photograph from the back pocket.

“While I’m flattered to be in contention as your son’s father, unfortunately, that is not-What’s this?” he interrupted, eying what Shuichi was holding out to him.

There was a determined gleam in the younger man’s face as he shoved the picture towards Kizou.

Shock rocked him to his feet when it took what turned out to be a photograph. “What the hell?! Where the hell did you get this,” he demanded. Burning golden eyes turned to face Shuichi. He took in the wince, the slightly crestfallen expression intermingled with confusion, but ignored it. The face staring back at him from the picture was one he had not seen in more years than he cared to remember.

Without a word, Shuichi twirled his finger in the air.

“What,” Kizou snapped. What the hell was that supposed to mean? With a frown, he flipped the photograph around. Was that what he was indicating? There was something written on the back of the photograph in blue ink. He stilled when he read what was written. Takanori Uesugi. “What the fu…?” It couldn’t be! Turning the photograph back around, he took in the toddler smiling that beautiful smile that he realized now he had seen numerous times before. It was Shuichi’s smile. What he also saw was his little brother.

Lucien Kizou.

At the tender age of six, his brother ran into the street to retrieve his ball. Any other day at any other time, it would not have mattered, but as it turned out, on that particular day, a farmer had been driving past their house to bring fresh produce to sell at the farmer’s market. Lucien had literally appeared from out of nowhere when he‘d jumped out from behind the ancient stone wall and row of hedges that had marked their land. Old Mr. Rye had not been able to stop in time. After that day, their family sold the old family estate and moved into the city. All the photographs containing images of his only sibling had mysteriously vanished sometime during the move. “This is…?”

“My son…Your. Son.”

Kizou slowly shook his head, back and forth, over and over again. It couldn’t be…! It was…! His legs gave out, sending him tumbling back down into his chair. “But I…”

“Can’t have kids?” Shuichi supplied.

Kizou’s head snapped up.

Shuichi saw the astonishment and the confusion on Kizou’s face.

“But…how…?” For some reason, he’d never told Shuichi. Other than his doctors, only his ex-wife and Narata knew. Narata was his right hand man, his lieutenant. He could tell the man anything and vice versa without fear of being judged.

“Taki.”

Kizou frowned. Taki? As in Takanori Aizawa? But how…? Then he remembered. He’d been in a meeting with Narata and his various other “Cabinet members” discussing what should be done about their infestation problem. The E Street Gang had been a small band of hoodlums that had been causing him an exorbitant amount of trouble about five years back. After preparations were made for an all out extermination, Narata had pulled him aside to talk to him about his girlfriend at the time. Apparently, Narata had overheard her on the phone with a girlfriend. Chitose and he had been together going on eight years at that point and it seemed as if she was beginning to wonder why she was not yet with child. It was not as if they’d been actively trying to get pregnant, not that she would gotten pregnant anyway. They hadn’t even discussed it. It was, in fact, something she’d been trying to do behind his back. Most likely as a stunt to get him to marry her. After he’d thanked Narata for the information, saying he would handle it, he’d stepped out of the office where the meeting had been held to see Taki skirting around the far corner. He’d thought nothing of it at the time, but now he new. Taki had been eavesdropping. Made sense that he would. Taki had always been jealous of those within his inner-circle and angry that he still wasn‘t part of it.

“He said something about…” Shuichi’s forehead scrunched in thought. “…man land not being the same ever since you had cancer…or something.”

Massaging his temples where a headache was just beginning to make itself known, Kizou sighed. If Taki wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him. Dropping his hand from his forehead, he held up the photograph. The boy was definitely not a lithe waif like his mother. The fact that little Takanori, instead, looked almost identical to his long deceased brother gave him pause, but…Was it possible? After countless women and neutrals had remained barren, after artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization had failed numerous times, had this boy sitting before him finally done the impossible?

But…

What if…?

“How do you know?” He wanted to be absolutely sure before he got his hopes up.

Shuichi shook his head. “I just do.”

Kizou felt a hand clench around his heart. “Shu…”

Shuichi‘s face contorted in irritation. “Look at him!” He jumped to his feet and pointed at the picture. “You look at him and tell me he isn‘t!”

Little Takanori did resemble his brother quite a bit. That had to be more than just coincidence. “I’ve…”

Shuichi held his breath.

“Always wanted a son.”

Shuichi felt the tension ease from his shoulders. “So you’ll do it?”

“Do what?”

“A paternity test.”

Kizou gazed at the boy smiling up at him. He didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah.”

---TBC---

(1) I highly doubt this actually happens in Buddhism (if something similar does happen then let me know), but it is mandatory for Roman Catholics. They have to be activate participants w/in the church for a year prior to the wedding and they also have to meet with the priest for a pre-marital counseling session or something.

(2) Go to “orientalfurniture (dot) com” then click on “furniture” then “Japanese Furniture”. The 13 Drawer Buffet Table will be the first one in the third line down beneath the Butterfly Blanket Chest. They have some beautiful pieces.

(3) This quote is from “Desire” (the novel) and is said by Toru.

A/N: On a side note, if you guys have some time, could you please go and read my original series? Go to my profile for links. I need some feedback. There’s a little bit of everything. And if you haven’t already done so, please check out “Fallen”, “Still the One” and its sequel, “Rain” and tell me what you think. Let me know what you think.

Till next time…!