Still Raining
folder
Gravitation › AU - Alternate Universe
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
28
Views:
3,537
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gravitation › AU - Alternate Universe
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
28
Views:
3,537
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
15: Give Me Strength to Do What Must Be Done
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:Plans are set in motion
Warning: fantasy, angst, drama, romance, m-preg, language, m/m, hentai, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, Eiri/Shuichi
Inserts: On the Street of Dreams chapter 17, Still Raining chapter 13 & 14
A/N: Thank you to sarah83654123, Arcus Pluvius, Selina, kaname-luvr, a lataye, Namikaze naruko14 Mrs. Hatake Itachi for reviewing. Did anyone guess that Shuichi and Mrs. Shindou passed one another in the trains? Shuichi was en route to Tokyo and Mai was en route to Kyoto. By the end of this chapter, you should have some idea as to what K’s last job for Tohma was.
+---+---+---+
Last Time
“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.”
+---+---+
Chapter 15: Give Me Strength to Do What Must Be Done
Somewhere in the United States
It has been exactly two years, nine months, three weeks, three days and thirteen hours since he last spoke with Mr. Tohma Seguchi. Not that he was counting. And it certainly wasn’t as if he’d enjoyed the last job he’d done for the man and had been waiting eagerly for the chance to work for him again. It was just a fact.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” K’s voice rumbled in an otherwise silent room. Currently, he was temporarily residing in a rather drab hotel room half the size of a shoebox on the top floor of a dingy rundown hotel in an equally, if not more so, dingy part of town that saw it’s heyday back at the turn of the last century.
With the crash of the stock market in 1929, known hence forth as Black Tuesday, the life was sucked right out of this once vibrant neighborhood. It was a shame too. Underneath the squalor and the stench of hopelessness that seemed to linger like a black cloud upon the residents, glimpses of the past could still be seen: from the movie theater constructed in 1926 to what had at one point been City Hall.
Billed as “The Showplace of the City”, the old Rivera Theater was said to be patterned after the Italian Renaissance with painstakingly handpainted murals (1).
An Art Deco masterpiece, the colossal edifice once called City Hall, for less than a decade, had an architectural style that was said to be modern without “being modernistic” (2).
Both had been since left to rot and decay.
He was known simply by his code name, K, to both allies and enemies alike. Of course, there was the occasional curiosity seeker who somehow was able to stumble upon his true identity, but you know what they say, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Knowing what he knew of Tohma Seguchi- once just the producer and one of the keyboardists of Nittle Grasper and now the closest thing to a mafia boss without actually being a mafia boss- he would not put it passed the man to know every last detail about his life, including what size underwear he wears or the name his wife and son knew him by: Claude Winchester.
Instead of holding his cellphone, thus potentially turning himself into a target should his location by compromised, K was speaking to Tohma using a hands-free Bluetooth headset. The new BlueAnt Q1 was voice controlled, which left his hands free to grab his derringer that rested at the small of his back, his shotgun currently under the bed- but within arm‘s reach- or his trusted magnum in its shoulder holster.
The derringer was actually a Cobra Enterprises Derringer Pistol that he‘d bought from one of his contacts who just happened to live right around the corner. He was a man with the type of work ethic and motto that suited K’s type of profession: Don’t ask. Don’t tell. With a chrome finish, .22 long rifle caliber, alloy frame, pearl grips, fixed sights, its 2 round capacity and 2.4-inch barrel, the derringer could easily fit within a woman’s purse without it feeling as if she had a brick in there. His wife swore by it, which was one of the reasons why he’d decided to purchase one for himself. One of the unfortunate cons of an otherwise sweet weapon was its muzzle flash and the fact that it was very loud when fired, but it produced no recoil. It definitely was not the ideal weapon of choice, at least not in his line of work. It was merely a backup tool just in case. One never knew.
The semi-auto shotgun was the 10505 Benelli Vinci ComforTech Plus Semi-Auto Shotgun. It is reported to be “the fastest-shooting, softest-kicking, most reliable lightweight 12-gauge shotgun in the world” (3). This 12-gauge shotgun with its 26-inch barrel length, 3-inch chamber, 3 +1 capacity and its black synthetic stock was simple, efficient and lightweight at only 6.8 pounds. It had soft recoil thanks to the new inertia recoil system. Overall, his new shotgun was quite impressive.
But if he had to choose, his weapon of choice would definitely have to be his Magnum Research BFR .30/30 Winchester Revolver.
As stealth, efficiency and swiftness was of the utmost importance, the derringer, shotgun and the magnum would not do. Instead, he chose Remington’s M-24 Sniper Weapon System, which was said to be “the finest long-range system available today” (4). Designed originally for use by the United States Military, the Remington was now used by various agencies and organizations worldwide- from SWAT teams all across the States to the international military and government agencies- for its accuracy was unsurpassed.
“For now,” came Tohma’s voice in his ear, “just a little surveillance.”
Crossing to the room’s only window, K pulled down the slats of the aluminum mini blinds that were yellowed with age- and who knew what else- and gazed out into the night. The lights were on in the room across the street. Excitement flowed through him. Was this it? A quick check through his binoculars had his anticipation dying a quick death.
“Damn,” he grumbled. It was only the husband. Where the hell was that little bitch? If she had gotten wind of the hit and split town, he was not going to be a happy camper.
“How soon can you be here?”
“Not sure,” K answered truthfully. What should have been a straightforward job was quickly turning problematic. There was no telling when he would be free to take on another assignment. “How soon does this need to be completed?”
“Yesterday.”
K hummed in thought. He lowered the binoculars and stepped away from the window. The blinds returned to their past warped state. There was nothing he despised more than having to turn down a job, especially one in which he would be so well compensated, unless it was stepping away from a job. Once he took on a job, there was no turning back. Not even for a husband who had changed his mind at the last minute. From past experience, he knew that if Tohma Seguchi was calling him then the man meant business. Tohma’s requests were not to be taken lightly. “If it’s just surveillance-”
“For now.”
K nodded. “-then…” There was someone who came to mind who might be able to help until he was free to personally oversee the assignment. “Let me make a call.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I trust no one,” K stated candidly, “but she has proven herself. I‘ve worked with her once before.”
There was a pause. “Alright,” Tohma finally said. “Make your call, but K…”
“Yes sir,” K said. Nothing more needed to be said.
+---+---+
Somewhere in Japan
It wasn’t anything fancy. It was just another family restaurant where the food wasn’t horrible, but neither was it something to write home about either. The portions were large enough to feed three people. The prices were just as oversized. The tables were so crowded together that you could not pick up your napkin without elbowing some poor soul in the eye. It was so loud you could not even hear yourself think. It reminded Shiho of grade school. It was not a pleasant thought, but as her latest beau was yum-o, just this once she would overlook this lapse in judgment, but next time- if there was one- he might not be so lucky.
“Really?” Her eyes were wide in combined fascination, wonder and horror.
“Oh, yeah,” Ken nodded. His dark eyes were twinkling in merriment. A grin was plastered on his face. He had all the appearances of a man who was delighted that someone else found his story just as enthralling as he did.
Shiho giggled behind her hands.
“And he was like-”
Buzzing emanated from her purse.
She pulled her purse towards her and reached inside. Bypassing her iPhone wrapped in a pink Gogo case with its handpainted white and black butterfly design; she instead fingered the lining of the center partition. A slit appeared. Reaching inside, she pulled out a slim prepaid phone. “Sorry. Gotta take this,” she apologized sweetly. “Excuse me,” she said. Without waiting for a reply, she shouldered her purse, slid out of the booth and made her way through the packed restaurant. “Yeah,” she answered curtly as she stepped outside. Leaving the suffocating atmosphere and her boring, though too cute for his own good, date behind her was a welcomed relief.
“It’s me,” said the English speaking male voice.
“Hey! It’s been, what, like forever.”
There was a snort. “More like two years, nine months, three-”
Shiho rolled her eyes. Her loud sigh drowned out the rest of his sentence.
“I have an assignment for you. Interested?”
A sly grin crossed her face. “Always,” Shiho purred in English. There wasn’t a trace of an accent as she spoke.
“Good.” His tone was suddenly serious. “This isn’t going to be like your last assignment. This is just surveillance.”
Shiho pouted. “Well that’s no fun.”
“Well, you never know. Depending on how things go…” The rest was left hanging, but the meaning was clearly conveyed.
The sly grin slow crawled back onto Shiho’s face. “I might get to play bumper cars again?”
There was a low chuckle in her ear. “Maybe.”
Shiho could not wait.
["He just came out of nowhere," she sobbed wide eyed in what Tatsuha could clearly see was shock. She began panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Oh God! It was as if he just fell out of the sky! I…I just…I didn't have time to stop…!"]
Oh how she could remember that day so clearly even now. It’d been her first assignment and she’d passed with flying colors. Maybe she should have become an actress. It was too bad she had to ruin a perfectly good car though, but with the money she’d earned, she’d just bought a new one.
“I’ll email you the details when I get them.”
Shiho Daidoji wondered what role she should play this time. Last time she worked with K, she’d been the panicky brunette. Guess she would have to wait and see.
+---+---+
Uesugi-Shindou Residence - Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Had it only been twelve hours since he last saw his husband and precious baby boy? It seemed more like a hundred years…Okay so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. He’d left about six this morning, not long after sunrise, to catch the bullet train to Kyoto and now here it was just after six in the evening. It would be an understatement to say that he was dead tired. All he wanted was to curl up in bed with his husband and sleep.
Unfortunately, before he could surrender to the blissful lull of sleep, he had to get something to eat. He was absolutely famished. Other than a breakfast burrito this morning and an egg salad sandwich this afternoon from the vending machines at the train station, he hadn’t eaten anything. Better not to mention this to Eiri.
As Eiri would demand to know, he’d have to tell him about how his trip to Kyoto had turned out. It still surprised him how relatively easy it’d been to get Kizou to comply with his request, but it wasn’t as if he were about to start complaining. Even Tohma had been taken aback at the simplicity of the outcome.
At noon tomorrow, all the parties would gather at NG Productions and three days after that was when the truth would be known: whether or not Taki Aizawa was little Takanori’s biological father or if it was Kizou. Part of him hoped it was Kizou. Buddha bless his corrupt, evil little soul, but even in death, Taki gave him the creeps. Hopefully in his next life Taki would be a better person.
As much as he disliked Taki, even if death, it would be better for everyone if Taki was indeed little Takanori’s father, for if Kizou was indeed little Takanori’s father, everything was going to change and, possibly, not for the better. Kizou was not just a Yakuza, but the leader of the dreaded and infamous Black Dragons. They’d tried to keep it silent that he’d once been part of the Black Dragons, but once it got out that Kizou was being scouted as a possible father, all hell was going to break loose. There was no way of telling how news that he’d been involved with the Yakuza would affect Bad Luck. And what about Eiri? How would this affect his book sales? And what about little Takanori?
Yawning, Shuichi scrubbed his hands over his face.
The only certainty he was sure about at the moment was that he wanted the truth to come out. He could care less one way or another, but Eiri was right. Little Takanori was going to want to know one day. There was always the possibility that his son might not want to know. It could turn out that little Takanori was one of those people who would be satisfied with the life he currently leads instead of the truth. Maybe he’ll see Eiri as his father, just as he did, and not care about anything else. But it would be good to know the truth just in case.
Sounding unnaturally loud in the tight, almost claustrophobic confines of the car, a ping resounded, announcing the elevator had arrived at its intended destination.
Pushing away from the back wall, he stepped out of the elevator and into the eerily silent hallway. For once, he was not about to start complaining about the quiet. It was exactly what he needed after being stuck in a train for the better part of the day. His eardrums were still ringing.
Pulling his keys out of his bag, he quickly unlocked the door to the condominium he shared with his husband and son.
That was something else he had to do this weekend: move. Wonderful.
Had he signed his lease renewal? He couldn’t remember. At the present moment, he could care less. That was something he could worry about later.
The low murmuring of the television greeted him when he pushed open the door. Nostalgia washed over him. It brought a smile to his face.
Thank God, he was home.
Stepping into the foyer, he shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. “Hello,” he called loudly as he tossed his keys onto the sideboard. Lifting the strap of his messenger bag over his head, he set his bag down on the floor. “I’m home!”
He chuckled at the immediate stampeding of tiny feet. “Mama,” yelled the accompanying voice.
“Hey you,” he greeted as his two year old son flew into his arms.
Imitating a koala, Little Takanori wrapped his tiny body around him.
“Were you good for Daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“’Bout time,” grumbled a male voice.
Shuichi lifted his head. Standing with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips before him was Eiri. “I’m home.”
Eiri smiled. It softened the harsh lines on his face. “Welcome home…Baka,” he added.
+---+---+
Ryugan Temple - Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
A peaceful lull had fallen over the Usami household. The only interruptions came from the low murmurings in the living room where her parents were relaxing in front of the television and the clinking of the dishes as she cleaned up after another mundane meal.
[“Ayaka, dear, you do know that your betrothal to my brother was called off?”]
As Mika Seguchi’s callous words echoed back through her mind, her grip on the sponge in one hand and a dinner plate in the other tightened. Her fingers squeaked as they rubbed down the slick slippery surface of the plate. A plume of soapy water shot from the sponge.
[“He never intended to marry you.”]
Liar! Why would someone spout such hateful lies?
Did Mika not love her bother? Did she not want to see him happy? Wasn’t that the goal of all older siblings? Weren’t they supposed to watch out for their younger brothers and sisters and make sure they did not falter and stop them from making the same mistakes they made? How could she possible sleep at night knowing that she’d taken such a misstep when she gave her precious younger brother her blessings? How could Eiri possibly be happy when he was forced into marrying some whore that had gotten pregnant after they’d slept together just once? How could someone find happiness from an obligation?
[“My brother has moved on and so should you.”]
That was such total and utter bullshit. When you’re shackled, it was impossible to move beyond a certain point. You’re confined to a narrow space with no room to breathe. How can a person be happy that way? Being tethered to a leash and being forced to watch as the world passed you by…How is that moving on? It wasn’t. No. Eiri was stuck in a rut. He had not moved on. What a sad, miserable existence Eiri now led.
[“I want you to stay away from Eiri and Shuichi. You hear me?”]
Usually people trip over themselves in their haste to do the bidding of one Tohma Seguchi, for that man’s bark was nothing compared to his bite. All he had to do was smile that infamous smile of his and he had you wetting yourself. Nobody disobeyed the great and powerful Tohma Seguchi, nobody except her that was. She had no intention of complying with his suggested order. What she stated to both him and his wife was the absolute truth: Eiri belonged to her and no matter what it took or how long it took, she would see to it that there wasn’t a soul that did not know that.
Nothing was going to stop her, nothing and nobody.
---TBC---
(1) Based on the Riviera Theater here in North Tonawanda, NY where I live
(2) Based on Buffalo City Hall located in Buffalo, NY (about 15-20 min car ride from where I live)
(3) ableammo (dot) com (slash) catalog (slash) product (underscore) info (dot) php?products (underscore) id (equal sign) 113654
(4) Remington (dot) com (slash) rifles (slash) m24 (dot) htm
(5) On the Street of Dreams chapter 17
A/N: Did you guess what K’s last assignment from Tohma was? Here’s a hint: K hired Shiho to perform the hit. Anyway, I apologize each chapter takes so long to get out, but life gets in the way as does watching “Bleach” and writing poems/stories for various contests. I hope it was worth the wait. Oh! And you can Google the Riviera Theater and Buffalo City Hall online if you want to see pictures and read the history and whatnot of both if you’re interested.
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:Plans are set in motion
Warning: fantasy, angst, drama, romance, m-preg, language, m/m, hentai, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, Eiri/Shuichi
Inserts: On the Street of Dreams chapter 17, Still Raining chapter 13 & 14
A/N: Thank you to sarah83654123, Arcus Pluvius, Selina, kaname-luvr, a lataye, Namikaze naruko14 Mrs. Hatake Itachi for reviewing. Did anyone guess that Shuichi and Mrs. Shindou passed one another in the trains? Shuichi was en route to Tokyo and Mai was en route to Kyoto. By the end of this chapter, you should have some idea as to what K’s last job for Tohma was.
+---+---+---+
Last Time
“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.”
+---+---+
Chapter 15: Give Me Strength to Do What Must Be Done
Somewhere in the United States
It has been exactly two years, nine months, three weeks, three days and thirteen hours since he last spoke with Mr. Tohma Seguchi. Not that he was counting. And it certainly wasn’t as if he’d enjoyed the last job he’d done for the man and had been waiting eagerly for the chance to work for him again. It was just a fact.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” K’s voice rumbled in an otherwise silent room. Currently, he was temporarily residing in a rather drab hotel room half the size of a shoebox on the top floor of a dingy rundown hotel in an equally, if not more so, dingy part of town that saw it’s heyday back at the turn of the last century.
With the crash of the stock market in 1929, known hence forth as Black Tuesday, the life was sucked right out of this once vibrant neighborhood. It was a shame too. Underneath the squalor and the stench of hopelessness that seemed to linger like a black cloud upon the residents, glimpses of the past could still be seen: from the movie theater constructed in 1926 to what had at one point been City Hall.
Billed as “The Showplace of the City”, the old Rivera Theater was said to be patterned after the Italian Renaissance with painstakingly handpainted murals (1).
An Art Deco masterpiece, the colossal edifice once called City Hall, for less than a decade, had an architectural style that was said to be modern without “being modernistic” (2).
Both had been since left to rot and decay.
He was known simply by his code name, K, to both allies and enemies alike. Of course, there was the occasional curiosity seeker who somehow was able to stumble upon his true identity, but you know what they say, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Knowing what he knew of Tohma Seguchi- once just the producer and one of the keyboardists of Nittle Grasper and now the closest thing to a mafia boss without actually being a mafia boss- he would not put it passed the man to know every last detail about his life, including what size underwear he wears or the name his wife and son knew him by: Claude Winchester.
Instead of holding his cellphone, thus potentially turning himself into a target should his location by compromised, K was speaking to Tohma using a hands-free Bluetooth headset. The new BlueAnt Q1 was voice controlled, which left his hands free to grab his derringer that rested at the small of his back, his shotgun currently under the bed- but within arm‘s reach- or his trusted magnum in its shoulder holster.
The derringer was actually a Cobra Enterprises Derringer Pistol that he‘d bought from one of his contacts who just happened to live right around the corner. He was a man with the type of work ethic and motto that suited K’s type of profession: Don’t ask. Don’t tell. With a chrome finish, .22 long rifle caliber, alloy frame, pearl grips, fixed sights, its 2 round capacity and 2.4-inch barrel, the derringer could easily fit within a woman’s purse without it feeling as if she had a brick in there. His wife swore by it, which was one of the reasons why he’d decided to purchase one for himself. One of the unfortunate cons of an otherwise sweet weapon was its muzzle flash and the fact that it was very loud when fired, but it produced no recoil. It definitely was not the ideal weapon of choice, at least not in his line of work. It was merely a backup tool just in case. One never knew.
The semi-auto shotgun was the 10505 Benelli Vinci ComforTech Plus Semi-Auto Shotgun. It is reported to be “the fastest-shooting, softest-kicking, most reliable lightweight 12-gauge shotgun in the world” (3). This 12-gauge shotgun with its 26-inch barrel length, 3-inch chamber, 3 +1 capacity and its black synthetic stock was simple, efficient and lightweight at only 6.8 pounds. It had soft recoil thanks to the new inertia recoil system. Overall, his new shotgun was quite impressive.
But if he had to choose, his weapon of choice would definitely have to be his Magnum Research BFR .30/30 Winchester Revolver.
As stealth, efficiency and swiftness was of the utmost importance, the derringer, shotgun and the magnum would not do. Instead, he chose Remington’s M-24 Sniper Weapon System, which was said to be “the finest long-range system available today” (4). Designed originally for use by the United States Military, the Remington was now used by various agencies and organizations worldwide- from SWAT teams all across the States to the international military and government agencies- for its accuracy was unsurpassed.
“For now,” came Tohma’s voice in his ear, “just a little surveillance.”
Crossing to the room’s only window, K pulled down the slats of the aluminum mini blinds that were yellowed with age- and who knew what else- and gazed out into the night. The lights were on in the room across the street. Excitement flowed through him. Was this it? A quick check through his binoculars had his anticipation dying a quick death.
“Damn,” he grumbled. It was only the husband. Where the hell was that little bitch? If she had gotten wind of the hit and split town, he was not going to be a happy camper.
“How soon can you be here?”
“Not sure,” K answered truthfully. What should have been a straightforward job was quickly turning problematic. There was no telling when he would be free to take on another assignment. “How soon does this need to be completed?”
“Yesterday.”
K hummed in thought. He lowered the binoculars and stepped away from the window. The blinds returned to their past warped state. There was nothing he despised more than having to turn down a job, especially one in which he would be so well compensated, unless it was stepping away from a job. Once he took on a job, there was no turning back. Not even for a husband who had changed his mind at the last minute. From past experience, he knew that if Tohma Seguchi was calling him then the man meant business. Tohma’s requests were not to be taken lightly. “If it’s just surveillance-”
“For now.”
K nodded. “-then…” There was someone who came to mind who might be able to help until he was free to personally oversee the assignment. “Let me make a call.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I trust no one,” K stated candidly, “but she has proven herself. I‘ve worked with her once before.”
There was a pause. “Alright,” Tohma finally said. “Make your call, but K…”
“Yes sir,” K said. Nothing more needed to be said.
+---+---+
Somewhere in Japan
It wasn’t anything fancy. It was just another family restaurant where the food wasn’t horrible, but neither was it something to write home about either. The portions were large enough to feed three people. The prices were just as oversized. The tables were so crowded together that you could not pick up your napkin without elbowing some poor soul in the eye. It was so loud you could not even hear yourself think. It reminded Shiho of grade school. It was not a pleasant thought, but as her latest beau was yum-o, just this once she would overlook this lapse in judgment, but next time- if there was one- he might not be so lucky.
“Really?” Her eyes were wide in combined fascination, wonder and horror.
“Oh, yeah,” Ken nodded. His dark eyes were twinkling in merriment. A grin was plastered on his face. He had all the appearances of a man who was delighted that someone else found his story just as enthralling as he did.
Shiho giggled behind her hands.
“And he was like-”
Buzzing emanated from her purse.
She pulled her purse towards her and reached inside. Bypassing her iPhone wrapped in a pink Gogo case with its handpainted white and black butterfly design; she instead fingered the lining of the center partition. A slit appeared. Reaching inside, she pulled out a slim prepaid phone. “Sorry. Gotta take this,” she apologized sweetly. “Excuse me,” she said. Without waiting for a reply, she shouldered her purse, slid out of the booth and made her way through the packed restaurant. “Yeah,” she answered curtly as she stepped outside. Leaving the suffocating atmosphere and her boring, though too cute for his own good, date behind her was a welcomed relief.
“It’s me,” said the English speaking male voice.
“Hey! It’s been, what, like forever.”
There was a snort. “More like two years, nine months, three-”
Shiho rolled her eyes. Her loud sigh drowned out the rest of his sentence.
“I have an assignment for you. Interested?”
A sly grin crossed her face. “Always,” Shiho purred in English. There wasn’t a trace of an accent as she spoke.
“Good.” His tone was suddenly serious. “This isn’t going to be like your last assignment. This is just surveillance.”
Shiho pouted. “Well that’s no fun.”
“Well, you never know. Depending on how things go…” The rest was left hanging, but the meaning was clearly conveyed.
The sly grin slow crawled back onto Shiho’s face. “I might get to play bumper cars again?”
There was a low chuckle in her ear. “Maybe.”
Shiho could not wait.
["He just came out of nowhere," she sobbed wide eyed in what Tatsuha could clearly see was shock. She began panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Oh God! It was as if he just fell out of the sky! I…I just…I didn't have time to stop…!"]
Oh how she could remember that day so clearly even now. It’d been her first assignment and she’d passed with flying colors. Maybe she should have become an actress. It was too bad she had to ruin a perfectly good car though, but with the money she’d earned, she’d just bought a new one.
“I’ll email you the details when I get them.”
Shiho Daidoji wondered what role she should play this time. Last time she worked with K, she’d been the panicky brunette. Guess she would have to wait and see.
+---+---+
Uesugi-Shindou Residence - Koishikawa Park Tower - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan
Had it only been twelve hours since he last saw his husband and precious baby boy? It seemed more like a hundred years…Okay so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. He’d left about six this morning, not long after sunrise, to catch the bullet train to Kyoto and now here it was just after six in the evening. It would be an understatement to say that he was dead tired. All he wanted was to curl up in bed with his husband and sleep.
Unfortunately, before he could surrender to the blissful lull of sleep, he had to get something to eat. He was absolutely famished. Other than a breakfast burrito this morning and an egg salad sandwich this afternoon from the vending machines at the train station, he hadn’t eaten anything. Better not to mention this to Eiri.
As Eiri would demand to know, he’d have to tell him about how his trip to Kyoto had turned out. It still surprised him how relatively easy it’d been to get Kizou to comply with his request, but it wasn’t as if he were about to start complaining. Even Tohma had been taken aback at the simplicity of the outcome.
At noon tomorrow, all the parties would gather at NG Productions and three days after that was when the truth would be known: whether or not Taki Aizawa was little Takanori’s biological father or if it was Kizou. Part of him hoped it was Kizou. Buddha bless his corrupt, evil little soul, but even in death, Taki gave him the creeps. Hopefully in his next life Taki would be a better person.
As much as he disliked Taki, even if death, it would be better for everyone if Taki was indeed little Takanori’s father, for if Kizou was indeed little Takanori’s father, everything was going to change and, possibly, not for the better. Kizou was not just a Yakuza, but the leader of the dreaded and infamous Black Dragons. They’d tried to keep it silent that he’d once been part of the Black Dragons, but once it got out that Kizou was being scouted as a possible father, all hell was going to break loose. There was no way of telling how news that he’d been involved with the Yakuza would affect Bad Luck. And what about Eiri? How would this affect his book sales? And what about little Takanori?
Yawning, Shuichi scrubbed his hands over his face.
The only certainty he was sure about at the moment was that he wanted the truth to come out. He could care less one way or another, but Eiri was right. Little Takanori was going to want to know one day. There was always the possibility that his son might not want to know. It could turn out that little Takanori was one of those people who would be satisfied with the life he currently leads instead of the truth. Maybe he’ll see Eiri as his father, just as he did, and not care about anything else. But it would be good to know the truth just in case.
Sounding unnaturally loud in the tight, almost claustrophobic confines of the car, a ping resounded, announcing the elevator had arrived at its intended destination.
Pushing away from the back wall, he stepped out of the elevator and into the eerily silent hallway. For once, he was not about to start complaining about the quiet. It was exactly what he needed after being stuck in a train for the better part of the day. His eardrums were still ringing.
Pulling his keys out of his bag, he quickly unlocked the door to the condominium he shared with his husband and son.
That was something else he had to do this weekend: move. Wonderful.
Had he signed his lease renewal? He couldn’t remember. At the present moment, he could care less. That was something he could worry about later.
The low murmuring of the television greeted him when he pushed open the door. Nostalgia washed over him. It brought a smile to his face.
Thank God, he was home.
Stepping into the foyer, he shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. “Hello,” he called loudly as he tossed his keys onto the sideboard. Lifting the strap of his messenger bag over his head, he set his bag down on the floor. “I’m home!”
He chuckled at the immediate stampeding of tiny feet. “Mama,” yelled the accompanying voice.
“Hey you,” he greeted as his two year old son flew into his arms.
Imitating a koala, Little Takanori wrapped his tiny body around him.
“Were you good for Daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“’Bout time,” grumbled a male voice.
Shuichi lifted his head. Standing with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips before him was Eiri. “I’m home.”
Eiri smiled. It softened the harsh lines on his face. “Welcome home…Baka,” he added.
+---+---+
Ryugan Temple - Usami Residence - Kyoto, Japan
A peaceful lull had fallen over the Usami household. The only interruptions came from the low murmurings in the living room where her parents were relaxing in front of the television and the clinking of the dishes as she cleaned up after another mundane meal.
[“Ayaka, dear, you do know that your betrothal to my brother was called off?”]
As Mika Seguchi’s callous words echoed back through her mind, her grip on the sponge in one hand and a dinner plate in the other tightened. Her fingers squeaked as they rubbed down the slick slippery surface of the plate. A plume of soapy water shot from the sponge.
[“He never intended to marry you.”]
Liar! Why would someone spout such hateful lies?
Did Mika not love her bother? Did she not want to see him happy? Wasn’t that the goal of all older siblings? Weren’t they supposed to watch out for their younger brothers and sisters and make sure they did not falter and stop them from making the same mistakes they made? How could she possible sleep at night knowing that she’d taken such a misstep when she gave her precious younger brother her blessings? How could Eiri possibly be happy when he was forced into marrying some whore that had gotten pregnant after they’d slept together just once? How could someone find happiness from an obligation?
[“My brother has moved on and so should you.”]
That was such total and utter bullshit. When you’re shackled, it was impossible to move beyond a certain point. You’re confined to a narrow space with no room to breathe. How can a person be happy that way? Being tethered to a leash and being forced to watch as the world passed you by…How is that moving on? It wasn’t. No. Eiri was stuck in a rut. He had not moved on. What a sad, miserable existence Eiri now led.
[“I want you to stay away from Eiri and Shuichi. You hear me?”]
Usually people trip over themselves in their haste to do the bidding of one Tohma Seguchi, for that man’s bark was nothing compared to his bite. All he had to do was smile that infamous smile of his and he had you wetting yourself. Nobody disobeyed the great and powerful Tohma Seguchi, nobody except her that was. She had no intention of complying with his suggested order. What she stated to both him and his wife was the absolute truth: Eiri belonged to her and no matter what it took or how long it took, she would see to it that there wasn’t a soul that did not know that.
Nothing was going to stop her, nothing and nobody.
---TBC---
(1) Based on the Riviera Theater here in North Tonawanda, NY where I live
(2) Based on Buffalo City Hall located in Buffalo, NY (about 15-20 min car ride from where I live)
(3) ableammo (dot) com (slash) catalog (slash) product (underscore) info (dot) php?products (underscore) id (equal sign) 113654
(4) Remington (dot) com (slash) rifles (slash) m24 (dot) htm
(5) On the Street of Dreams chapter 17
A/N: Did you guess what K’s last assignment from Tohma was? Here’s a hint: K hired Shiho to perform the hit. Anyway, I apologize each chapter takes so long to get out, but life gets in the way as does watching “Bleach” and writing poems/stories for various contests. I hope it was worth the wait. Oh! And you can Google the Riviera Theater and Buffalo City Hall online if you want to see pictures and read the history and whatnot of both if you’re interested.