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. She’ll do whatever it takes to make him hers. Anything.
Chapter Summary: Tohma gives Ayaka a warning.
Warning: fantasy, angst, drama, romance, m-preg, language, m/m, hentai, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, Eiri/Shuichi
Inserts: --
A/N: Thank you to RRW, Kaname-luvr, ferler, Selina, sarah83654123, Stoic-Genius, Arcus Pluvius for your reviews and continued support. I am so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter out. I’ve been so busy with half a dozen other things. I’m not going to make any promises about getting the next one out sooner, because I cannot guarantee that. But I will try my best. Anyway onto the next installment!

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

Last Time

Massaging his temples where a headache was just beginning to make itself known, Kizou sighed. If Taki weren’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.”

+---+---+

Chapter 14: I Was Having a Good Day

Kyoto, Japan

Coming here had been a bad idea. What had he been thinking?

Shuichi hesitated on the sidewalk in front of his old house. A hand lightly grasped the closed gate. The other rubbed his agitated belly. He made soft shushing noises. “Hush now, Kita, Kaya,” he whispered.

Violet eyes ghosted over the buzzer uncertainly before raising to take in the dwelling before him. Even now, he felt unwelcome. He gulped as he studied his old house that had never truly been a home.

It was strange. Except for the potted plant on the front steps, still slightly titled and uneven from an earthquake that had shaken the city before he was born, nothing appeared to have changed. The white paint on the house’s façade was still peeling, only in much larger chunks. Debris still filled the porch light. He wondered if the gate still squeaked. It used to drive him up the wall, which was why he’d always left it open, which had driven his father insane. Shuichi chuckled at the memory. To get the gate to stop squeaking his mother used a household remedy: cooking spray. As strange as it sounded, it actually worked…For a time. Eventually the squeaking started back up again, only worse. It was a never-ending cycle.

For some reason he had been expecting something to have changed, but everything was exactly as he remembered it- minus the plant. Instead of nearly three years having passed since he last step foot anywhere near this neighborhood, it suddenly felt as if it had been mere hours, as if he was just coming home from spending the day at Ryuichi’s studio with Hiro and Suguru practicing for some upcoming gig. Well, if he’d had a normal childhood, he supposed that’s what would have happened. Reality was something all together different. Instead of returning here after practice, he would have, in reality, gone back to the Compound.

He wasn’t sure he cared for the feelings being here was stirring up.

When he felt the pressured sting of tears, he wasn’t sure if it was from hormones or memories.

Three years. Had it really been that long? Little Takanori was now about two. He’d been halfway through his first trimester when he’d been forcibly ejected from the Shindou household. So yeah. Just about three years. More or less. Wow.

He remembered having his pregnant ass hauled out of the house. Oh, yes. That day had been forever emblazoned on his soul. Every time he looked at his son, he remembered the humiliation and the anguish, the anger, the despair. He also remembered the look on both of his parents’ faces: the devastation, betrayal…the disgust.

There was also something else he saw when he looked at his son: a miracle.

He scanned the front yard. There! Suddenly he felt nauseous. He hugged his arms around his belly and started to slowly back away, fighting tears. That was the exact spot where he’d landed.

As he’d been pregnant at the time his father kicked him out of the house, literally tossed, he was lucky the fall hadn’t caused him to have a miscarriage, but then that was probably what his father’s aim had been all along. Couldn’t have any freaks under his roof. Fortunately, the only injury he had sustained when to his heart.

Yes. Coming here had definitely been a very bad idea. There was nothing left for him here. Nothing at all. His parents had made that very clear three years ago.

Turning his back on the aging structure, Shuichi started down the street towards the train station. It was time to head on home.

+---+---+

Bored. She was so bored! It had only been…what? Maybe four hours? Five since the school officials had cancelled classes for the day? And she was already going out of her mind. It was so frustrating! And to think her mother did this every single day. How did she stand it?

It had quickly become apparent that there was nothing good on daytime television. Talk shows. Infomercials. Game shows. Soap operas. The same old nonsense that was interesting the first five seconds that quickly became redundant. Her cat, dead since she was five, could come up with a much more interesting schedule than the obviously illiterate producers of daytime television could.

The radio wasn’t any better. Only crap polluted the radio airwaves nowadays, with the exception of her brothers’ music of course. No originality. Apparently, talent was an alien concept these days. It was the same old cookie cutter crap. Just interchange the name of the singers and bands on any album cover in any music store in the country. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Whatever talent these so-called “entertainers” might have had at one point obviously died a hideous death, along with whatever brain cells they used to possess, the moment they stepped foot inside a recording studio. There must be some sort of toxin polluting the air of music studios. It was the only explanation. She would have to remember to bring it up with Shuichi the next time she saw him.

You would think the internet would alleviate her seemingly endless boredom, but as it turned out, there was only so much to do on the internet. It only ended up adding to her already mounting frustration.

If she would have known she’d have only half a day of school, she wouldn’t have finished Eiri Yuki’s latest novel last night and in record time, a mere five hours after purchasing it. It didn’t help that “Fallen” was more a novella than a novel.

She could always help her mother out with some of her chores…well she could if the house wasn’t spotless. You could literally eat off the floor.

Maiko flopped down into the armchair, exhaling an explosive breath of air.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bor-

Maiko cocked her head. She’d turned to look out the picture window when a flash of pink caught her eye. Immediately, her mind leapt to Shuichi, but she just as quickly shook the assumption aside. It couldn’t be Shuichi. Her brother was in Tokyo. What would he be doing here in Kyoto?

But still…

She could not shake the feeling that it had been Shuichi.

There it was again! Another flash of pink between the neighbor’s hedges caught her attention.

Leaping out of the armchair, Maiko rushed through the house, slipped on the first pair of shoes she saw and burst out of the house and down the front walk. She pushed through the gate and skidded to a halt.

“Shuichi,” she called. “Big brother!”

Oh, she hoped it was him. Otherwise, she was making a complete fool out of herself.

+---+---+

Almost there. Why was it the closer the destination becomes, the farther away it seems? Or was that just him? Either way, Morihiro Shindou could not wait until he got home. This heat was killing him. Maybe he should have moved to Hokkaido when he had the chance. Wasn’t it supposed to be cooler there? If he was lucky that position he’d turned down might still be available. The central air at work had finally up and failed early this morning, too, which hadn’t exactly helped matters either. Talk about Hell.

He and his fellow co-workers have been complaining for years about needing the central air replaced. The old one was, well, old. In fact, it was older than dirt and he was not exaggerating- by much. Of course, the powers that be, time and again, claimed that there was nothing wrong with the current system. The fact that it was cooler outside than it was inside during a heat wave in the summer and colder in the building than outside during a blizzard in the winter apparently had not been much a reason to switch the system out. Now the system was fried. Completely. There was no salvaging it. Or so claimed the repairman. Guess the bosses had to ante up for a complete new central air system. Bet they were kicking themselves in the ass.

Morihiro chuckled.

He rounded the corner to his street and came to a halt. There, not more than one hundred yards down the street, stood Maiko and…

“Shuichi.”

Not wanting to be seen, Morihiro quickly ducked back around the corner, flattening against the stone wall. He could feel the coolness of the stone at his back through his suit. A surge of panic flooded through him. Had he been seen, he wondered over the fierce beating of his heart.

His mind churned. What was Shuichi doing here? It could not be a coincidence. Their street was a cul-de-sac. There was no outlet. For him to be there in front of their house meant that he had come there deliberately, but why? He has snubbed them for the passed three years. What possibly could have happened that would cause him to change his mind?

Laughter floated passed him. Curious, he carefully poked his head around the wall. Maiko was laughing at something Shuichi was saying. As he was too far away, he could not make out what was being said, but if the nearly identical grins on both of their faces were any indication, it was clear the two of them had patched things up. He was glad. Until his dying day, his father regretted not being able to work things out with his brother. That was not a fate he wanted for his children.

He watched Shuichi drop his hands to his belly. This time Shuichi laughed at something Maiko was saying. Hearing his son laughing brought a smile to his face. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had seen Shuichi smile let alone laugh. It was obvious that Shuichi was happy. He was glad. Maybe kicking him out of the house and signing away his parental rights back to Ryuichi had been the right decision after all.

+---+---+

Black Dragon Compound - Kita-ku, Kyoto, Japan

How long he sat there staring at the photograph of the child that could possibly be his son, Kizou was not sure.

Was this really his son? Could it truly be possible? Was years of hoping and wishing and praying coming to an end? It was hard to believe this wasn’t just another one of his dreams. It just seemed too good to be true.

He knew he shouldn’t be getting his hopes up. After all, there was always the possibility that little Takanori Uesugi was not his son, despite what Shuichi insisted.

“You look at him and tell me he isn‘t!”

It was not something he cared to advertise let alone dwell upon, but Shuichi had not exactly been faithful during their brief courtship. The only lover he was aware of was Taki Aizawa. Had there been others? Possibly. Shuichi claimed there hadn’t been, but you never know. Why would Shuichi admit to their existence if he were all too aware any possible lovers he took would only get their asses handed to them? Of course, he’d like to be able to say with confidence that there hadn’t been any, but after learning that Shuichi had actually slept with that sleaze ball Aizawa, he really couldn’t do that. These “others”, if they did in fact exist, would have just as much chance of being little Takanori’s father as he did, regardless of how much the boy looked like his deceased little brother. Though, the likelihood that little Takanori was his child remained and he couldn’t help but grasp onto it with both hands.

It was hard to say what he was feeling. He might have actually fathered a child. It was a dream come true.

But…

The giddiness eased back as the reality of the situation set in. As much as a time for celebration as this was, it was also one of caution. He was, after all, a mafia boss, leader of the Black Dragons, a Yakuza. The question went from, “what if he’s mine?” to “what if he is mine?” What if? If it turned out little Takanori was indeed his son and if he were to acknowledge him as such, there was the possibility that his enemies could use the knowledge to get to him. Had he not used that same technique countless times against his enemies? To get the upper hand, you had to find your enemy’s weakness and exploit it.

Kizou pushed that all aside for the time being. There was no need to obsess over milk that had yet to be spilled. If little Takanori did indeed turn out to be his son, then only then would he mull over the possibilities of what he would do.

Setting the photograph aside, he reached for the scrap of paper sitting a top the invoices that were now stained with tea. On the torn piece of paper was written a phone number with a Tokyo area code. Kizou smirked at the barely legible chicken scratch. It seemed Shuichi hadn’t improved his handwriting skills much.

Picking up the phone, he dialed the number. As the line rang, he sat back. Spinning the chair around, he gazed out the window. He could see the koi pond out back. Shuichi used to love sitting on the large boulder beside it writing in the notebook he always carried around.

“Tohma Seguchi speaking,” a voice broke into his thoughts.

“Yes, hello.” Kizou turned from his reminiscing. Unconsciously, he found himself sitting straighter. Everyone knew of this man. Tohma Seguchi was infamous, especially among the Yakuza. Nobody messed with him. Well, nobody messed with him and lived to tell the tale. “My name is Rique Kizou-”

“Shuichi told me you would be calling,” Tohma interrupted smoothly. “Shall we get right to it then?”

Kizou gulped, suddenly nervous.

+---+---+

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

“You’d better tell him, Sakuma, before I do.”

How long ago had Eiri left? Ryuichi wasn’t sure, but his parting shot still resounded in his head. It dogged his every step like an unwanted specter, though, he had a feeling it was because he knew Eiri was right, which made the fact that he could not get what Eiri told him out of his head that much more annoying. It being almost the exact same thing Tatsuha has been telling him for years now did not help. Knowing he had to confess the awful truth did not make it any easier to do.

Ryuichi let his head fall forward. His forehead banged sharply against the closed sliding glass door that led out onto the balcony overlooking the city.

Shuichi deserved to know the truth and he deserved to hear it from him. If Shuichi were to find out from some other source it would only cause an already tense situation to become even more so. But he did not want Shuichi to hate him. There was no question that if…no when he confessed the sorted details of his birth to Shuichi, his son would not look too kindly upon him. Maybe if he were to tell Shuichi that at the time he’d thought it for the best? Ryuichi abandoned that explanation as quickly as it was formed. Good intentions or not, nobody appreciated being told, “It’s for your own good”. It was not exactly a compliment.

From across the room, Tatsuha watched Ryuichi silently. A rush of sadness overcame him. He had no idea what the older singer was going through or what he was feeling. Honestly, he was glad he didn’t and hoped he never did. Though he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do or say in this particular situation that would help, he still wished there was something he could do. His heart ached as he watched the turmoil in Ryuichi’s eyes, the avalanche of emotions cascading down his face, and still, there was nothing he could do.

+---+---+

En Route - Chiyoda-Ku, Tokyo, Japan

It was almost too quiet, Eiri decided as he wove expertly through traffic, but he was not about to start complaining. Even the smallest reprieve was most welcome. It gave him the opportunity to think over what he’d just been told: Ryuichi Sakuma was Shuichi Shindou’s biological father. If he hadn’t seen the proof with his own eyes, he would have accused Sakuma of having a brother complex. Even he could not have written something as…as…well, as fucked up as this. It was like a storyline from one of Mika’s annoying soap operas.

“You’d better tell him, Sakuma, before I do.”

What he’d told Ryuichi had not been a lie. He would tell Shuichi the truth if Ryuichi didn’t man up, though he would rather Shuichi learn the truth from Ryuichi and not him. Shuichi would not appreciate hearing something like this from him.

Finding out you’d been living a lie was like being sucker punched by some guy on the street you did not know and would never see again. It was not a pleasant feeling. You wanted to hide from the rest of the world, to just curl up in some corner and die. You didn’t want to believe it, though you couldn’t not believe it, because somehow you knew what you’d just learned was the truth. Things suddenly made sense. Those missing pieces you never seemed to be able to find no matter how hard you searched suddenly appeared before you.

Eiri was forced to slow down as the traffic light turned red.

Almost three years ago, he’d been right where Shuichi was on the verge of treading. It was a very dangerous precipice nobody should scale, alone or otherwise. Would Shuichi accept his hand if he were to hold it out to him or slap it away?

+---+---+

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

Mai stood in the opulent foyer of her son’s building. A plain white envelope was clutched in her chest. Printed in her signature block writing on the front of the envelope was Shuichi’s name. Maybe she should have disguised her handwriting. As soon as Shuichi picked up the envelope, he would know it was from her, even without there being a return address.

Was this cowardly?

Giving the envelope one final glance, she stepped forward and slipped it into the mailbox she hoped belonged to her son. After it vanished from view, there was a brief moment of regret.

Too late now, she decided.

With a sigh, she made her way out of the cool interior of the building into the sweltering summer heat. Immediately she began to perspire.

She paused momentarily to gather her bearings before heading towards the train.

+---+---+

NG Productions Executive Offices - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan

“Alright. Thank you Mr. Iba. I appreciate you taking the time to oversee this yourself.”

“It was my pleasure Mr. Seguchi.”

“Good day.”

Hanging up the phone with a heavy sigh, Tohma quickly checked the clock on the far wall. He was cutting it pretty close. He had to be at Energy, one of his newest venues, to check out this new band that was quickly making a name for themselves. Apparently, they were supposed to sound as if someone had thrown m.o.v.e, Koda Kumi and BOA into a blender and sprinkled a little Abingdon Boys School on top. Interesting. If he liked what he heard, NG might just have a new acquisition.

He had just enough time to swing home to freshen up before heading out to the club. If he would have known he would be cutting it this close, he would have brought a change of clothes with him to the office, but at least everything was set for tomorrow.

Tomorrow afternoon, a representative from the DNA Diagnostic Center- or DDC- would arrive to take a buccal sample, which- he had been assured- was going to be a painless procedure, from both of the alleged fathers as well as from little Takanori. As one of the alleged fathers was deceased, Masato Aizawa- Taki Aizawa’s father- had arranged for a DNA sample from the morgue that had performed his son’s autopsy. In case that fell through, he would be bringing some of his son’s belongings.

Oharu Aizawa still had not come to terms with the knowledge that her grandson might not be her deceased son’s child. Who could blame her? Tohma wasn’t sure if she would show or if it would only be her husband.

Then there was Rique Kizou.

Not only had Kizou, leader of the Black Dragons, willingly agreed to take part in the DNA test to determine the paternity of little Takanori Uesugi, but Kizou had also willingly agreed to shuffle his schedule around so that he could come in person to Tokyo to partake in the test. For some reason Tohma was surprised by this. That was not to say he wasn’t glad Kizou had decided not to fight or deny Shuichi’s claim that little Takanori was his, for his was, but he was amazed that Kizou had agreed without putting up a fight. Weren’t men in Kizou’s position supposed to buy their accusers silence? Or hold a press conference so that he could deny the claims in front of all Asia? Kizou had done the exact opposite. It was almost as if he wanted Shuichi’s claims to be true.

Strange.

Tohma pushed his chair back. Using his arms as leverage, he half rose out of the chair, but paused when his earlier conversation with his wife flitted back through his head.

“I don’t trust her Tohma,” Mika said pointblank.

“Mika. Dear. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“No I do not,” she answered without any preamble.

“Mika,” Tohma sighed.

“Tohma.”

Leaning back in his office chair, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “So…what? You think she‘s in league with Nami Mataguchi?”

“Yes.”

Surprised by his wife’s serious reply, Tohma dropped his hand.

Was it possible? Was Ms. Ayaka Usami something they should be worried about? It seemed ridiculous, ludicrous even. The Ayaka he knew was shy and quiet, demure almost to the point of prudish. She was definitely the type of woman you would be proud to take home to Mother. To think she was this insidious mastermind behind a plot to break up Eiri and Shuichi was not something even the most talented writer could imagine.

But…

If he were to consider Nami Mataguchi and her seemingly odd quest and now Ayaka’s obsession, it did make some semblance of sense. He just wished it didn’t.

Dropping back down into the chair with a heavy sigh, he picked up the phone and dialed home. Guess he would have to be a little late to the club. As expected, his wife answered after the first ring. She must have been waiting by the phone. Knew him well she did. “Give me her number,” he said without waiting for Mika to say anything.

Surprised, but pleased, Mika rattled off the Usami’s phone number. “And…thanks, Tohma.”

Don’t thank me yet, he thought as he reminded her that he would be home late.


+---+---+

Tohma sat staring at the number he’d copied down. He really hoped this turned out to be nothing, though something told him that was not going to be the case.

It didn’t take long for the line to be answered.

“Hello? Usami residence,” answered a quiet female voice.

“Hello. I’m looking for Ayaka.” Tohma reclined back in his chair. He swiveled it around to face out the wall of windows.

“This is she,” the girl, Ayaka, answered.

“Ayaka. This is Tohma Seguchi.”

“Ah! Mr. Seguchi! Hello! I was just speaking with Ms. Mika-”

“Let’s cut the small talk,” Tohma interrupted her. Not too long ago he had been having a really good day.

“…Uh, sir?”

She sounded confused. It only added to his rising irritation. She had better hope she had nothing to do with the turmoil Nami Mataguchi was causing. Nobody messed with his family and got away with it. “I want you to stay away from Eiri and Shuichi. You hear me?” The words were threatening, but his tone was light, as if he were just shooting the breeze with an old friend.

Even over the phone, he could tell when the atmosphere changed. His grip on the phone tightened in reaction.

“I’m sorry Mr. Seguchi, but I cannot do that.” Like him, her tone was also light and carefree. Just two friends catching up. But her words were not.

Tohma frowned. “Aya-”

“Eiri is my betrothed.” This time she was the one to cut him off. She paused, as if waiting for him to say something, but when he remained silent, she continued. “I will tell you what I told Ms. Mika. I will do whatever it takes to make Eiri mine.”

With that hanging between them, the call was terminated.

Tohma stared down at the receiver. This did not bode well.

Swiveling his chair back around, he dialed a number he’d hoped he would never have to dial again.

“Yeah,” a gruff male voice answered in American accent English.

“K this is Seguchi. I have another job for you.”

+---+---+

En-Route - Tokyo to Kyoto

Mai Shindou leaned her head against the cool wall of the speeding train. She felt like a coward for retreating when she did. Her only saving grace, if it could be called that, was the letter she’d left. Hopefully Shuichi would get it. Even if she had to wait until she was on her deathbed, she would do whatever it took to get Shuichi to forgive her for her indiscretions.

Just as another train sped by going in the opposite direction, she pushed away from the wall and carefully picked her way across the aisle. She sat down gratefully. As bummed as she was for not being able to speak with Shuichi, she could not wait to get home.

+---+---+

En-Route - Kyoto to Tokyo

Humming softly, Shuichi sat with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. A smile played with his lips as he rubbed soothing circles on his belly.

It still amazed him how easy it had been to convince Kizou to partake in the paternity test, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Lifting his head, Shuichi watched as the scenery flew passed in a blur of color. He couldn’t wait to get home. It has been one hell of a long day.

---TBC---

A/N: K! I cannot believe I actually introduced him into one of my stories. This has to be a first. No. Wait. I had him in briefly in “Kin no Shuichi”. But that was a bit part. He has more face time in this story but not as BL’s manager. Frankly, he’s a terrible manager.

Anyway, Kizou is French-Japanese. Born and raised in France by a French father and Japanese mother (hence the French name).

I wonder if you can guess what other job Tohma had K do.

So what you think?