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: You can run but you cannot hide…for long. Ayaka learns this the hard way.
Warning: AU, fantasy, angst, drama, romance, M-Preg, language, characters death, M/M
Parings: Ryuichi/Tatsuha, Eiri/Shuichi
Inserts: ---
A/N: Hopefully this chapter will answer some of your questions, but if you’re still confused then drop me a line. Enjoy the final chapter of Still Raining!

oOo

Last Time

Deciding it would be quicker to take the stairs rather than the elevator, Tohma raced up the five flights to his executive suite while trying to look as if he wasn’t hurrying. He had no idea if he’d pulled it off. Part of him did not care either way. Some things were more important than modesty, decorum and what people thought when they saw the lead keyboardist for one of the nation’s hottest bands and the CEO of a record label that had become more of a household name than Google racing through the halls like a lunatic. This would be one of them.

He burst into his office and snatched up the phone. “Tell me you found her,” he demanded without any preamble.

“We just received a tip from someone who says she may be hiding out in Honshu.”

Tohma frowned. “Honshu?”

“Apparently, Mrs. Usami and her brother inherited ten acres of land five years ago when their mother died. The old family homestead burned down seventy-five years ago when lightening struck the house and instead of rebuilding, the family moved to Kyoto, but the land still remains in the family. I know the area. My cousin lives around there. There’s nothing around for miles. It would be a perfect place to disappear.”

Tohma didn’t like it. If there were nothing there, not even the old family home, then why would Ayaka go there? Even if it was in the middle of nowhere, it was still land her family owned. It would be folly to think of it as a place to lay low, at least for more than a day or so, but it was a lead, which was more than they’d had half an hour ago. “Thank you Sergeant.” Despite the lack of it being the ideal location to disappear when you had the entirety of Japan- and most assuredly several nations outside of Japan- after you, Tohma was hoping Ayaka Usami was just that moronic.

oOo

Chapter 27: Running On a Treadmill

Honshu

It may have taken a month and a tip from one of Tohma’s contacts within the Tokyo police, but K was finally able to track down the target. It wouldn’t have taken as long as it had if he would have considered the possibility that the target would not only still be driving around Japan in the same car she used to plow down Mrs. Shindou, but had decided to hide out in such an obvious of places. He had actually come across mention of this parcel of abandoned land awhile back, but had dismissed it as a ludicrous possibility.

“I take it back. She’s not as smart or cunning as I first thought she was,” K said.

You would think someone who was wanted by the authorities regarding the vehicular murder of a fifty-year-old homemaker- and not just any ordinary homemaker at that, but the mother to Shuichi Shindou and Ryuichi Sakuma, two of the hottest singers in Japan- would have dumped the car somewhere along the line.

Oh, well.

He was not about to start complaining now.

Lying among the waist high grass on top of a hill under a dead tree better suited to a haunted house than the countryside, K peered through the scope of his M-24 down at the target in the valley below as she paced around the damaged Toyota, biting her nails.

The target appeared to be apprehensive- scared. That was when they were the most dangerous.

“Target is in sight, sir,” K breathed into his Bluetooth headset. “Should I take the shot?”

O

NG Executive Office - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo

Sitting back, Tohma rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and lacing his fingers together, rested his steepled forefingers against his lips. There was no doubt about it. Ayaka Usami had to die. She deserved to after everything she put his family through. But was acting on his need for revenge worth it? Of course it would be. But would it not be better to bring her in? Let justice do its thing? But what if she was acquitted? Or got a reduced sentence? What if she was found to be mentally unfit to stand trial and was remanded to some state facility somewhere until she was medicated back to health? The bitch would be back on the streets a free woman instead of rotting in prison for the rest of her life. On the other hand, if he gave K the go ahead, which he was leaning towards doing, then wouldn’t the truth go with her?

O

Honshu

His finger twitching restlessly over the trigger, K watched the target through the scope mounted to his M-24 with a frown. “Just what are you up to?” he whispered as the target pulled a cellphone out from a hidden pocket in her skirt. “Who are you calling?”

O

La Verde Café - Setagaya, Tokyo

Nami Mataguchi was not sure she would ever change her opinion of neutrals, but learning to let go of her bigotry, to be more tolerant and open-minded, to love her neighbors, to do unto others as she would have them do unto her and to drop the fistful of stones was helping to bring her closer to God. It was helping her become an even better Christian. After all, it was her mother- who had desired to become a nun when she was a child, but had been talked out of it by her parents- who taught her that God was an unbiased God. She told her that there was one alone who was allowed to judge the actions of man and that was God. God loved everyone equally, including those who man found to be undesirable.

“Live by Jesus’ example,” her mother told her on the day of her confirmation and that was exactly what Nami was determined to do. Jesus had accepted everyone into His fold, including a prostitute. Who was she to turn her back to someone He would have welcomed with open arms?

She did not want to have to try to explain to God on Judgment day about the hate that filled her heart.

“Is that your phone?” asked her male companion.

“Huh?” Nami cocked her head and listened and sure enough, she heard it, a soft buzzing sound. “Oh!” She pulled her clutch into her lap and dug out her phone. As it continued to vibrate in her hand, she glanced at the name on the display screen. With only the slightest hesitation, she pressed ignore and tossed her phone back into her purse.

“Who was it?”

Nami shrugged as she reached for her condensation-coated glass. “Wrong number.” She took a sip of her water before continuing. “So, Chishin, what did you do with that Artifact I sent you?” she asked just as their server arrived with their meals. Her mouth started watering at the aroma.

As her old friend started telling her about having framed the bone fragment in a shadow box and keeping it in his office for the time being until the shrine his employees had voted on creating for it in the lobby was completed, Nami could not stop from grinning.

This was nice. Yes, she definitely made the right choice.

O
Honshu

Ayaka was pissed. Fuming, she pressed redial. Nobody hangs up on her. Nobody! Holding the phone to her ear, she hugged her other arm around her waist and tapped her foot impatiently.

As she listened to the line ring, she gazed around nonchalant.

How she despised the country, almost as much as she hated a certain singer. She sneered at the memory. Damn him and damn that meddling mother of his! If she weren’t already dead, she’d kill her. In fact, she’d run her down then back up over her just for good measure. Then she’d run her over once more just because she could.

A glint on the hill caught her attention. Curious, she pushed away from the car and lowering the phone, took several steps forward and squinted. What was that?

O

K cursed softly as he and the target locked gazes. “Sir? Should I take the shot?” It was now or never.

O

NG Executive Offices - Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo

Tohma heard the urgency in K’s voice.

Dropping his hands, he spun the chair around and gazed out the window at the city spread out before him.

He felt for the Usamis. He really did. It was never easy to lose a child, but he was not about to take the chance that Ayaka would get away with what she did.

“Do it.”

O

Honshu

“Yes sir.” K could not quite hide the eagerness from his voice.

With his finger hovering over the trigger, he watched the target through the scope as she carefully made her way up the hill towards him. Bringing her into the crosshairs, he took a deep breath, held it and counted to ten. He exhaled slowly. Quietness washed over him. There were no thoughts, no emotions. He had no conscience. He felt no guilt. There was nothing. The world narrowed down to just him and the target. It was time.

He pulled the trigger.

Through the scope, he watched as the target’s head snapped back, her body jerked and tensed before crumbling to the ground.

K smirked.

Rising to his feet, he shouldered his rifle and made his way down the hill. He knelt besides the target and felt for a pulse. There was none.

“Mission completed,” he relayed as he sat back on his heels. “Target destroyed.”

oOo

That Evening - Usami Residence - Kyoto

Sometimes Lieutenant Asaga really hated his job. “Should’ve been a dentist,” he grumbled as he stood before the closed gates of the Usami residence. His father had wanted him to be a dentist. Take over the business after he retired in order to keep it in the family. Right about now, he was really regretting his decision to become a cop. He wondered if it was too late to change careers.

He pushed through the gates, flinching as they squeaked loudly in protest.

Taking a breath, he steeled himself and started up the walk to the front door. With each step he took, the knot of dread in his stomach grew. Was it cowardice to pray that nobody would be at home?

He was climbing the porch stairs when there was a sound of a chain sliding across the door.

“Damn,” he muttered.

Several moments later, the front door opened and a woman appeared. She was pale, had dark circles and bags under her eyes. Her hair was unkempt and was beginning to show signs of gray. A white blouse was tucked haphazardly into a long brown skirt. Both hung loosely around her skinny frame, as if she’d recently lost a tremendous amount of weight and had yet to buy new clothes.

“Mrs. Usami?” he inquired cautiously.

The woman didn’t answer. She just continued watching him with that blank stare.

“Ma’am?” Concern for an already distraught mother welled within him, but he forged ahead. “Ma’am, I‘m Lieu-”

With a whimper, the woman collapsed to the floor at his feet.

“Ma’am!” Lieutenant Asaga rushed to the woman’s side thinking: yes, sometimes he really hated his job.

oOo

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

With his husband at his side, Shuichi strolled across the silent parking lot to their building. There was the distant rumble of traffic and the occasional vehicle that whizzed by on the street. Somewhere, a dog bayed.

Stopping in the middle of the lot, Shuichi dropped his head back and gazed up the modern building they resided in. With a hand on his pregnancy-swollen belly, a nostalgic smile graced his tired face.

It was good to be home.

Though they were gone for only a month, it felt more like ages, which, now that he thought about it, was strange, especially considering that he was gone longer when Bad Luck went on tour a little over a year ago. It hadn’t felt like this then, but that might have something to do with the differing reasons for his absence. You can’t exactly claim that time was flying by because you were having so much fun at a funeral.

Shuichi shook the gloomy thoughts aside and jogged to catch up to Eiri who either hadn’t realized he’d stopped or didn’t care that he had. The latter sounded more plausible.

He smiled at his son who was sound asleep in his daddy’s arms. Little Takanori’s mouth was hanging open and a little wet spot was forming on Eiri’s sleeve. “What about the bags?” he inquired with a soft snicker. He brushed his fingers lightly through little Takanori’s silky black locks.

“I’ll get them in the morning.”

Shuichi nodded around a sudden yawn. Good thinking. He was half-asleep on his feet as it was.

Right here in front of this very building a month ago his world had been turned inside out and flipped upside down. The woman whom had raised him and loved him to the best of her ability had been a victim of a hit and run. He could not classify it as an accident because it had not been accidental. It’d been a deliberate act of violence.

As they passed within meters of the spot where his mother had pushed him out of the path of the car, he kept his gaze averted, but the desire too look was nearly overwhelming.

They hadn’t been able to find a pulse at first, but by the time the EMTs arrived, his mother had one. It’d been faint, but there. The doctors at Seiryu, where they’d taken her, managed to stabilize her long enough for his father and Maiko to arrive from Kyoto. Half an hour later, she flat lined. At least they’d all been able to say good-bye.

“I have my people on it, Eiri. We will find her,” he’d overheard Tohma telling Eiri at the hospital last month. “She won‘t be able to get far with all of Japan looking for her. Don’t worry.”

Tohma had better keep his word because Shuichi hadn’t forgotten his promise. He would hunt the bitch down himself and make her regret the day she ever heard the name Shuichi Shindou.

“How’re my kids?”

Shuichi shook off the murderous thoughts. “Sleeping.” Thankfully. They were pretty active for much of the drive home. “I’m tired and hungry, but glad to be home though. Thanks for asking!”

The sarcasm had Eiri rolling his eyes. “Baka.”

Shuichi stuck out his tongue, which Eiri took quick advantage of. He leaned over and nipped it lightly, causing Shuichi to blush a nice shade of red. Eiri chuckled.

As Eiri’s hand were currently full of sleeping toddler, Shuichi held open the door, making a big sweeping gesture as Eiri stepped into the lobby. Eiri snorted as his overly dramatic behavior. Shuichi followed him inside. They crossed the deserted lobby to the elevator. Shuichi pressed the call button.

A voice called out to them just as a ping sounded and the elevator doors slid open.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder. A woman who looked vaguely familiar but whose name he could not remember was walking towards them.

“I believe this is yours,” she said handing over a white envelope. “Someone put it in my mailbox by mistake weeks ago. I’ve meaning to give it to you, but with everything that happened…” Her voice trailed off.

Shuichi swallowed passed the lump in his throat and pasted a smile on his face. It wasn’t entirely fake. “Thanks.”

The woman bowed and slid into the elevator just as the doors were closing.

“What is it?” Eiri asked.

“Don’t know,” Shuichi said. He turned the envelope over. Other than his name on the front, there was no other writing on the envelope, not even a return address, stamp or postmark. Whoever it was from must have hand delivered it.

Eiri frowned down at the unobtrusive white envelope.

Deciding to deal with it later, Shuichi shrugged and stuffed it into his back pocket. He pressed the call button and when the elevator arrived, stepped into the car with his husband and son right behind him.

The ride was short and uneventful. They did not meet anybody else either getting on or off. That was not unusual given the late hour.

Digging out his keys, Shuichi unlocked the door to their place. He stepped aside and allowed Eiri to enter the condominium before him. Then he stepped inside and shut and locked the door behind him. He groped the wall for the light switch. A moment later, the front hall was flooded with soft light.

Eiri had already toed off his shoes- how he did this without jostling little Takanori enough to wake him, Shuichi had no idea- and was already making his way through the house to put their son to bed.

Shuichi slid off his own slip-on sneakers and squatted down to pick up both his and Eiri’s shoes in order to place them in the shoe closet. He did not want to hear Eiri bitching later about tripping all over the shoes that had been left out haphazardly. Something in his pocket crinkled as he moved. Standing back up with his shoes in hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope that woman had given him down in the lobby. Clamping it in his teeth, he picked up Eiri’s shoes in his other hand and used his foot to slid open the closet. He set the shoes in their appropriate places and stepped out. With the envelope in hand, he was about to shut the closet door when footsteps sounded behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at his husband.

“Here.”

Shuichi took his son’s shoes and set them besides his own.

“Want some tea or something?” Eiri asked as he went into the kitchen.

As his stomach has felt like it was in the middle of imploding and has for sometime now, Shuichi was not surprised when his stomach gave a loud growl.

Eiri chuckled. “Guess so. What you in the mood for?” He peered into the fridge. There wasn’t much to choose from given they’d been gone for a month. They would have to go shopping in the morning.

Shuichi shrugged as he pulled out a chair at the dining table and sat down. “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.”

As banging and clanking emanated from the kitchen, Shuichi turned his attention to the envelope. Curious, he tore it open and pulled out what at first he thought was a piece of paper, but on closer inspection, it turned out to be a torn section of a white placemat. It actually looked like the ones from the restaurant down the street. Little Takanori loved them and so did he and Eiri- Eiri because he said it kept mealtimes quiet and Shuichi because some of his best songs were scribbled on the backs of them.

He carefully unfolded the placemat. There was writing on it. It looked like a letter of some sort. He flipped the makeshift paper over, looking for a signature. When he found it, his vision grew misty with the blurred sting of tears. His throat ached. It was from his mother. He slapped a trembling hand over his mouth to stifle the sobs.

How…? When had she…?

Clearing his throat, he dropped his hand and turned the letter over. Pushing back his tears, he started to read his mother’s last words. He hadn’t even read passed the first line when a wave of sorrow, guilt and even contentedness washed over him.

O

With two bowls of ramen, which was the one thing edible in the house, Eiri made his way to the dining room. He frowned as he drew closer. The sound of stifled sobs grew louder. “Baby?” he called softly. Setting the bowls down on the table, he turned towards Shuichi.

Shuichi turned a tearstained face towards him. He held out the letter. “From Mom,” he said with a tiny smile.

“What?” Gobsmacked, Eiri snatched it. From his mother-in-law? But how was that possible? Out of all of the possibilities of what the envelope could have contained, a handwritten note from Shuichi’s mother had not been among them. She obviously wrote it before she died, but when? How? Why had she even been here? There were so many unanswered questions floating around his head.

He scanned the letter.

“Shuichi,” it began, “Who knew writing a simple letter would be so difficult? But I guess it’s the contents of the letter and not the letter itself that makes this seem like an impossible mission. There’s a part of me that’s saying to just give it up and go back home. What’s the point? Not like you’ll actually read this once you realize who it’s from. I wouldn’t blame you. I’d be more surprised if you did.

“I’ve lost count of how many times I started to write to you over the years but gave up because even though there’s so much I want to say, so much that needs to be said, I can’t find the words. How I envy Mr. Yuki’s skill and talent right now. He makes this look so easy!

“As I write this, I’m in Akamatsu. As I used all the paper I had on me on the numerous failed drafts I’ve attempted in the last hour or so that I’ve been here, I’ve taken to using one of their placemats. I can see your place from my chair. They say you eat here all the time. I’m wondering if there’s even the slightest possibility of you stopping by while I’m here.

“Or what if you pass by on your way home?

“I wish I could say I’d call out to you, but I’m nothing but a coward. I’m actually relieved that you weren’t home when I stopped by. This way, I can say what I want to say, what I need to say, without fear of having the door slammed in my face before I can say my piece or me losing my courage.

“I didn’t set out this morning to come see you to beg for your forgiveness because I know I don’t deserve it. I just wanted to say that I love you and that I’m proud of you. I was honored to be your mother. I just wish I had been a better one.

“All I can do is apologize and hope that some day, you’ll be able to forgive me enough for us to at least be cordial to one another.”

It wasn’t until a gentle finger brushed at his face, did Eiri realize that he’d been crying. He scrubbed his wet face with his free hand just as the house phone started ringing. Handing Shuichi back his letter, he went to answer the phone.

Shuichi may not have said anything, but Eiri knew that his husband was feeling guilty over not having at least tried to make amends with his mother before her death. That her life had been cut short by a psychotic madwoman and any number of chances he would have had to make amends had been forcibly taken away from both mother and son did nothing to alleviate the guilt.

At least now, with this letter, Shuichi can finally start to heal.

With tears in his eyes, Shuichi reread the letter again and again. Each time, he lovingly ran a finger over the final two lines in the letter.

“I love you. Always.

“Mom.”

His stomach gave a particularly loud growl. “Okay. Okay,” he laughed. He sniffed and wiped at his wet face. Folding the letter, he held it to his heart and retook his seat at the table. Taking one of the still steaming bowls- the one with the most ramen- and grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the container in the middle of the table. Prying them apart, he muttered, “Itadakimasu,” before he dug into the noodles ravenously, still clutching his mother’s letter.

O

“…Are you sure?” Eiri spoke softly into the phone. He paced to the archway that separated the kitchen from the dining room and glanced at his husband who was sitting with his feet folded under him. A pair of pale wood chopsticks was clutched in one hand against the side of the black lacquered bowl that he was now sipping the broth out of. The other hand had a death grip on the letter. He had a feeling Shuichi was not going to let the letter out of his sight anytime soon.

“Quite.”

Relief flooded through Eiri, making his knees weak. He sagged back against the wall. If he were to be honest, there was part of him that was angry that he hadn’t been able to get a crack at Ayaka Usami. “How-?”

“Self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.”

Eiri cocked an eyebrow. “And the police are going to buy that?” he asked his brother-in-law skeptically. He knew he sure didn’t.

“Of course.”

Eiri snorted. “You do realize that most people who shoot themselves put the gun in their mouth.”

“Yes, well, Ms. Usami was not most people, Eiri.”

You can say that again.

As long as she was not going to pull an “in actuality, who you killed was my evil twin sister and now I‘m going to take my revenge because you took my beloved sister away from me despite the fact that she was a psychotic bitch and deserved what she got” like this was some second rate soap opera or a “back from the grave” stunt like from some crap horror sequel that never should have been made, then what did it matter either way? Dead was dead. The details mattered little.

“Thanks.” There was no way he would ever be able to properly thank his brother-in-law for everything he did for his family.

“My pleasure, Eiri.”

O

Shuichi was eying his husband’s rapidly cooling bowl of ramen- he was still starving- when a knock sounded at the door.

“Shu?” Eiri called from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Shuichi called back. He pushed the chair back and jumped to his feet. Humming Fefe Dobson, he made his way to the front door.

“Check to see who it is,” he heard Eiri call after him.

Shuichi rolled his eyes.

“Saw that.”

Huffing a laugh, Shuichi decided to do as Eiri “suggested”.

Seeing as whoever constructed the peephole had a misguided notion that every single person on the planet was over six feet tall, he had to stand up on his tiptoes to use said peephole in order to see who was at the door this late in the evening. He was taken back by who he saw on the other side of the door. Sliding back the chain and turning the deadbolt, Shuichi threw open the door. “Ryu.”

“Hey,” Ryuichi greeted with a halfhearted smile.

Shuichi stepped aside and waved the older man inside. “What’re you doing here? Did something happen?” They just saw one another not to long ago in Kyoto. In fact, Ryuichi was still there when he and Eiri left.

Ryuichi started to shake his head then rethought his answer and nodded. “Actually yes,” he corrected as he stepped into the condominium and took off his shoes.

Worry enveloped Shuichi as he shut and locked the door behind the older man.

Ryuichi turned around to face him. “We need to talk.”

“What about?” Shuichi asked as he led Ryuichi into the living room.

“Where’s little Takanori?”

“Bed.”

Ryuichi nodded. Good.

He caught sight of Eiri leaning against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. The man inclined his head in greeting, but otherwise said nothing.

Ryuichi patted his suit jacket to make sure the DVD was still in the inner pocket. It was. While he’d been in Kyoto for his mother’s funeral, he’d gone to a chain drugstore near his parents’ house and had the old VHS tape with that short snippet of an hours old Shuichi converted to DVD, including Yuki‘s message for their son at the end. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been all that expensive. Even if it had, it wouldn’t have fazed him.

Ironically, it’d been the death of his mother and not Eiri’s threats that had pushed Ryuichi into finally making up his mind to tell his son the truth. Life was too short. You never knew what tomorrow would bring. He already had so many regrets and he did not want to add to them.

It was time to come clean.

“This…It-it’s…It’s something I should have, something I should have told you a long time ago.” Ryuichi could not seem to get his tongue and brain to work properly.

Shuichi froze as he was lowering himself down into one of the armchairs.

His mind flashed to the papers he’d discovered years ago in the back of his brother’s closet.

It all started when he and Morihiro Shindou got into a fight when he asked him to buy him a keyboard. He’d been playing the piano since before he could walk thanks to Tohma and Noriko and much to the chagrin of Morihiro. For his seventh birthday, Tohma had given him his old keyboard, but two years later, it broke and he’d wanted a new one. Morihiro told him that he was finished playing pretend.

“It’s time to grow up and think about the future. Music isn’t going to pay the bills and put food on the table,” was what he told him.

In protest, he ended up storming out of the house. Nobody had come looking for him.

He’d ended up at Ryuichi’s place.

Since Ryuichi had been out on tour with the rest of Nittle Grasper and Tatsuha had gone with him, he’d had the place to himself. Ryuichi had given him carte blanch to do as he pleased, as long as he didn’t burn the place down and cleaned up after himself that is. It was a teenager’s dream come true. Until five hours later when that dream turned into a nightmare.

He’d been absolutely bored out of his mind and went to see what he could “borrow” from his brother. Buried at the back of Ryuichi’s closet, he’d found an old shoebox. He’d ignored that little voice that was telling him to leave it alone and pulled it out. Once he’d lifted the lid, he’d wished he’d listened to that little voice because that was when he discovered his big brother’s secret.

Shuichi lowered himself down in the armchair slowly.

His relationship with Ryuichi changed dramatically after that.

At first, he hadn’t believed any of it, but it quickly became obvious that whether he believed it or not, the truth was glaring him in the face. Suddenly everything made sense. But he hadn’t welcomed the discovery. Nobody in his position would. His whole life had been nothing but a lie. He grew despondent and angry and avoided Ryuichi as much as he could after that. He’d wanted nothing further to do with him. This hurt Ryuichi greatly. It broke Ryuichi’s heart, thinking it was because he was away so much that Shuichi had grown to despise him. Shuichi had been well aware of how his change in attitude had affected his “big brother”, but at the time, he hadn’t cared. He’d felt that Ryuichi deserved it.

Perched on the edge of the sofa, Ryuichi studied his hands clasped between his knees. His heart was hammering and his pulse was racing. He felt sick to his stomach. “Shu….Shuichi, I-”

“I know,” Shuichi interrupted.

Frowning, Eiri dropped his arms and pushed away from the wall. He…knew?

Ryuichi’s head snapped up and around. “What?”

Shuichi smiled at the older singer. “I know,” he repeated. “And…it’s okay.” He’d made peace with the knowledge that he was not Shuichi Shindou but was in fact Shuichi Sakuma. That his biological parents were not Mai and Morihiro Shindou, but were Ryuichi Sakuma and Yuki Kitazawa. Ironically, it was when he discovered he was pregnant with little Takanori that everything changed. Suddenly, he understood.

“Shu?”

That wasn’t to say that he’d be calling Ryuichi “father” or “dad” or anything like that anytime soon. If ever.

There were still some aspects of this whole Jerry Springer ensemble that needed to be clarified though. “Why don’t you just start from the beginning and we can go from there?”

With tears in his eyes, Ryuichi glanced at his son to his son-in-law who had come to stand behind his husband.

Eiri gave Ryuichi a nod.

Ryuichi took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “It all started in New York City almost twenty years ago…”

oOo

Mataguchi Residence - Avan Minami-Aoyama Manor - Tokyo

“We have late breaking news this evening out of Honshu,” reported a young blond woman. “Earlier this afternoon, police found the body of nineteen year old Ayaka Usami of Kyoto dead from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Ms. Usami had been wanted for questioning in regards to the hit and run accident that killed the mother to singers Ryuichi Sakuma and Shuichi Shindou last month in Chiyoda. Evidence gathered at the scene is leading investigators to believe that she may have been behind the wheel of the car when it struck and killed the forty-nine year old homemaker. A spokesperson for the singers had no comment for us this evening other than to say that Sakuma and Shindou will be releasing a statement in the morning.”

The wine glass halted its upward movement to Nami’s mouth.

This…This wasn’t…Oh God!

As tears filled her eyes and her throat began to ache, the wine glass slipped from her trembling fingers and shattered on the wooden floors. The red liquid coated everything in its path. She dropped her head into her hands and sobbed quietly for her friend.

oOo

Ryugan Temple - Usami Residence - Kyoto

Masahiro could be found in the same place every day, kneeling on the hard tatami floor of his temple before the altar praying. The burning incense mingling with the floral scent of the flowers soothed his fears, but today was different. Their once calming effect churned his stomach. They could do nothing to alleviate the emptiness within him. And the tears. He could not stop them from falling.

It was his fault.

His fault.

All his fault.

His heart wrenching sobs filled the silence of the temple.

His fault.

All his fault.

Sorrow like he never felt before was attempting to swallow him whole. He gladly welcomed it with open arms, embraced it like an old friend. It was slowly taking over his heart and soul, his thoughts and his actions.

All he wanted was to crawl into bed and never crawl back out, to fall into the blissful peace of sleep and never waken.

Why? God, please, tell me why? Why?

Earlier this afternoon, his whole world had crumbled and died.

Like after the Apocalypse, nothing was ever going to be the same again. Never ever again. He would never hear his daughter’s infectious laughter or see her beautiful smile. She would never come into the temple and change out the flowers with fresh ones, never see how proud she was of her garden. She would never sneak up behind him and stick the incense she bought under his nose, making him choke on their pungent scent. He would never come home again to find her sprawled out somewhere in the house or even in the yard with her nose in the book. He would never eat her wonderfully prepared meals- she could have been a chef. He would never…She would never…

Why would God take his only reason for living away from him? Why?

Masahiro crumbled, just as his world had, onto the tatami floor, sobbing for what had been and what would never be again.

O

Oharu, Masahiro’s wife and the mother to his only child sat in the recliner in the darkened living room. None of the lights were on. All the shades and curtains in the house had been shut. Slowly, she rocked- back and forth, over and over again- as she stared blankly at the wall.

---TBC---

A/N: I think I mentioned in “Street of Dreams” that there was a point in Shuichi’s life that he grew despondent with Ryuichi. That was caused by Shuichi’s discovery that his “brother” was not who he said he was.

I want to thank RRW, D. Gray Man Sorrow Invoked, Chen-chan, Selina, ferler for their reviews. You guys are the absolute best!