[fic] Retribution Ten
Oh hell, I haven't updated since November. It's unforgivable! I'm so sorry. I'll try to start the next chapter soon.
Title: Retribution Ten
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, Asami, Akihito, and OCs
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish, and newly added French translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
Special thanks to sunflower1343 for the insights to A x A ^_^
Retribution Ten
Fuck.
Yoh cursed as he propped himself up against a wall and pain shot through his body like an electrical current. Two bullets were still embedded in his body, one in his stomach, the other in his left shoulder. The bruises they gave him before he’d managed to fight them off and escape didn’t really help either. He usually considered himself pretty handy against a few foes, but there were five of them and each one was a well-trained assassin equipped to the teeth with professional weapons. Not to mention they had been ordered to kill.
Fuck. He threw a punch at the wall, and when it didn’t help he punched it again and again until there wasn’t much skin left covering his knuckles. How could he not have known someone was tailing him? Why the hell didn’t he insist that Fei Long take more men with him? How could he have let this happen on his watch? Somebody sent five assassins upon Fei Long and all he could do was watch them speed him away in the back of a car!
He hurled at the wall again and this time a loud groan forced its way out from the pain in his shoulder. His entire body felt like it was about to fall apart, although his control had long shattered the moment he realized Fei Long had been taken. He could not remember the last time he swore so much. Panting heavily, Yoh closed his eyes and counted to five.
One.
It had been far too long since the last time he’d lost control that he no longer knew how to deal with it. His pulse was racing, his heart was pounding so hard it made his wounds ache twice as much, and he could not stand still no matter how hard he tried. Calm down. Think. Think fast!
Two.
His hands balled. He tried to stop them from trembling. Both of his palms were slick with a mixture of sweat and blood. Stop shaking. Stop. They took Fei Long. They didn’t kill him on the spot. That means he should be safe - for now.
Three.
Wiping the blood from his brows, Yoh closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. That knife wound on his forehead was going to need at least ten stitches. But compared to what they would do to Fei Long, if he was still alive, it would be considered a scratch. That thought alone made him want to throw up. Fei Long is alive. He has to be. He bit down on his lip, his muscles hardened and strained as he continued to gain back control. His heart was still beating too fast and his head throbbed like it was about to explode. He needed to be able to think straight.
Four.
Breathe, you piece of shit. Breathe. If he could figure out for sure who ordered the attack, he would know where they were taking him. What did they look like? They were covered in black from head to toe and they all wore masks. Did they make a sound? What was their accent? From their built and style of fighting it was likely they were Asians. Was it Toh or was it someone else? No Chinese could make a move like this in Tokyo unnoticed. Someone had helped them or had been paid to turn a blind eye. Was it the Chinese at all?
Five.
To Yoh’s relief, his pulse had slowed down and his breathing was somewhat normal. But the pain in his stomach grew by the minute and his head was spinning. Damn it! He was losing too much blood.
Ignoring the bullet wounds and the fact that he could bleed to death in that deserted alley, he fished out a cell phone and stared at it for a full minute. But who could he call? Mikhail was in Russia, and for all he knew Baishe’s men could no longer be trusted. He couldn’t risk leaking the information that the head of Baishe had been kidnapped either. No, he couldn’t make a call. Before his body shuts down, he had to get himself to safety and track the kidnapper down before it’s too late.
Gathering whatever strength he had left, Yoh placed a hand over the wound in his stomach to help delay the bleeding and wobbled over to a car parked ten paces from where he stood. Making sure no one was looking, he threw a rock at the window and opened the door. It was the only way he could get out of there without being seen by the public. He was, after all, covered in enough blood to go in tomorrow’s newspaper.
Having to drive with one hand, it had taken him a little longer than he’d anticipated to get to the only place he could think of that would answer his questions. Buttoning up his jacket in an attempt to conceal the blood on his shirt, he stepped out of the car and tidied himself up the best he could as to not draw attention.
When he’d managed to drag himself to the building’s entrance, Yoh pushed the button on the intercom and prayed the man would be home.
***
A drop of freezing cold water fell on his forehead and rolled down the side of his cheek. Fei Long opened his eyes and blinked a few times until his blurry vision became clearer. The small, worn out room was dimly lit by a single light bulb in the middle of the ceiling. The air smelled like a mixture of sewage and rusting metal. The concrete floor beneath him was cold and damp, and to his right stood an old, empty chair that looked like it had been thrown against the wall too many times. On the wall behind him, running all the way up to the ceiling was a number of rusting steel chains permanently fixed into the concrete.
In the middle of the room, Fei Long had been suspended from the ceiling by the wrists, which would explain the stiffness he felt in his shoulder blades when he first gained consciousness. His toes barely touched the ground to support his weight, making his wrists ached and burned from the cuffs every time he moved.
An interrogation room or a torture chamber? Fei Long knew these rooms like the back of his hands. He knew how they looked, how they smelled, and how they were put to use. He knew the deep brown stains on the floor, the promise of pain, and the whispers of ghosts that usually lingered. But the distinction between the two was never that obvious.
Still a little dizzy, Fei Long shook his head to clear his mind and tried to get a grip on the situation at hand. He remembered it now. Someone had drugged him in front of that hotel as he was leaving, and they’ve taken him here. But who, and why? As the head of Baishe people usually want him as an ally or want him dead. Kidnapping him, on the other hand, meant that it was either the work of a suicidal idiot who thought he could earn some big bucks and live to spend it, or a very daring move of a man who had some very personal issues with him. Because the way they had taken him was far too well executed to be the first, it leaves the latter as the only sensible possibility. And there was only one man he knew who would take immense pleasure in torturing him to death.
He closed his eyes and began to laugh hysterically. It echoed back and forth in the room as if the spirits of past victims were laughing at him too. It sounded like his life all right. He had locked himself up in his own emotional jail for as long as he could remember and made damn sure all the happiness in the world would never find him. When he’d decided to come out and go for it, here he was, back in prison, waiting for execution whenever his enemy had had enough of hearing him scream. When he gets out of this mess he would seriously have to consider believing in God. Only a divine intervention could fuck up his life so much. If he ever gets out, that is.
He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious. They’d stripped him bare and put him in a pair of black filthy trousers that seemed to have been worn again and again, possibly by too many dead men than he’d want to imagine. His watch and all jewelry had been removed to make sure he carried no tracking devices. For once, he was glad to have returned the pendent to Mikhail. They would have taken it too, and an object that means so much to him would have been in possession of some scum who would pawn it away for a little sum of money.
The next thing he knew he was awaken by a bucket of ice cold water that stung him like a hundred needles all at once. That was how he knew he was not being held in Hong Kong. That water was naturally cold and there had been no ice in it. Hong Kong never gets that cold in winter and the air smelled different.
When he opened his eyes two Chinese guards in black were standing in front of him in a formal stance with hands behind their backs. Behind them stood a tall, slender figure in white cheongsam with an embroidered dragon that stretched from his right shoulder to his left hip.
“I was beginning to think you didn’t have the guts to show up here,” Fei Long said with a sneer, his voice trembled from the cold that pricked mercilessly at his skin.
The blow that followed swiftly on his right cheek felt like someone had slammed a chair at his head. Fei Long had never realized the man was that strong or that fast. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one whose strength often gets underestimated due to his appearance. A little harder than that and he would have lost a few teeth.
“Don’t give me a reason to rip out your tongue prematurely,” Toh said, shaking his hand a few times before wiping the blood off his knuckles.
Oh but you won’t. Not until you’ve heard me scream and beg for mercy, Fei Long thought. “No, that wouldn’t be too much fun, would it? You’ve been waiting for this chance for what? All your life?” Probably longer than he’d been obsessed with hunting down Asami at least, thanks to his goddamn mother who had to seduce Toh senior and got herself knocked up with a bastard in her belly. From what he’d heard, it had driven Mrs. Toh mad enough to hang herself in front of her own child. And that wonderful mother of his still had the nerve to get him adopted by a rival family who in turn raised the bastard up to finish off his own father. His existence had ruined two entire families - three if he were to count the Arbatovs. Isn’t that something?
Another punch landed on the opposite side of his cheek, this time by one of the guards. It didn’t hurt as much as his boss’ initial strike, but the knee in the stomach that followed did hurt quite a bit, and the force made him throw up on the floor.
Phillip Toh stepped around the mess with disgust and moved closer to the prisoner he’d long dreamt of getting his hands on. “What was it they say about you? The pretty and graceful Liu Fei Long of Baishe, was it?” Toh said, lifting the other man’s chin with the tips of his fingers. “Not so graceful now, are you? Although, I have to say you’re still very pretty. You have your mother’s eyes, did you know that?” Yes, he could still remember that woman’s face so vividly. It was the kind of beauty that could steal any man’s heart, and her son did not fall too far from the tree. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that later.”
Fei Long spat the mixture of blood and bile on the floor and sneered at the remark. “Why wait?” he asked laughingly. What Toh had given him so far was no more painful than what he’d endured in the past as the family’s assassin. His training had been harder than this, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been captured by his enemy either. Although, he had to admit not being beaten to a pulp for a decade did make it difficult for him to hold back his breakfast. “Still trying to figure out what you’re going to do when you’ve finished me off? You do realize you’ll have to go to war with Baishe while the Russians hunt you down like a dog,” Fei Long said with a smirk. By that time, Baishe would have known of his disappearance and the Russians would never let the golden opportunity of revenge slip through their fingers.
Toh’s lips curved up into an ugly smile as he listened. It pleased him immensely to know his plans had not been leaked and he was anxious to see that beautiful face twisted in agony once he reveals it.
“You’re right about one thing,” Toh said as he stepped forward, making sure he was heard loud and clear. “I will finish you off. Although, your resignation will be acknowledged long before your body turns up in a dumpster. I’d be surprised if by that time anyone at Baishe still gives a damn.”
It was the most ridiculous thing Fei Long had ever heard. The man must have lost his mind. “What makes you think I would resign?”
“Oh, but you already have,” Toh replied with a triumphant smile. “As of today you have left Baishe and have presumably gone off on vacation somewhere with your Russian boyfriend.”
Fei Long would have laughed if his lips didn’t hurt so much. Damn, that first punch still hurt like hell. “And you think anyone will believe that crap?” The entire organization knew he had no reason to resign and would never do something so foolish.
“Perhaps you’ve already forgotten, my dear little brother,” Toh said, his eyes sparkled in delight. “You are my father’s bastard. There isn’t a single drop of Liu’s blood in your body. That throne you’ve been sitting on has never been yours by right.”
“As of yesterday, while you were too busy fucking that Japanese man in Tokyo, Liu Yan Tsui has returned to Baishe and reclaimed his birthright - with your letter of resignation, of course.”
The realization suddenly struck him like lightning. Fei Long didn’t have to look at himself in the mirror to know the expression on his face at that moment would give Toh tremendous pleasure. He had neglected to consider that possibility that the moment Yan Tsui returned to Baishe, he would have to resign whether or not he was willing to. It was a perfect excuse for his disappearance and while many might find it questionable, over time such doubts would easily be forgotten. Until then Yan had been a suspect in hiding, but if someone like Toh wanted the case forgotten it would be too easy to accomplish with so many politicians in his hands. He had forgotten all about Yan and drowned himself in his personal issues. If Yan Tsui was truly working with Phillip Toh and Baishe was under his control, no one will even look for him.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Toh said with a sarcastic smile. Seeing blood drained from that face he’d despised with every breath he took brought him so much satisfaction he could hardly contain.
“And as for that charming prince you were counting on,” Toh continued slowly, taking an ample pause between his words. “Unless he has a change of heart, your knight in shining armor will just have to go down with you.” Oh he had plans for Mikhail Arbatov - ones that will make Fei Long toss and turn in his grave long after. “It will be too easy, with you in my grasp and him willing to sacrifice anything for you.”
Until then Fei Long had felt only spite and irritation in his heart, but the moment Toh mentioned his other plans, an uncontrollable rage consumed him. Fei Long lunged forward violently, tugging on the chains above him until the cuffs dug deeper into his flesh. “You son of a bitch!” he growled, gritting his teeth until his jaws ached as much as the pain on his face. “You leave him out of this! Your quarrel is with me.”
The reaction from his prisoner pleased Toh to no ends. Fei Long had been trained to endure physical pain to a great extent, so he thought the only thing that would truly tear the man apart was an attack aimed directly at those closest to his heart. Apparently, he was not wrong.
"Did you really think that I’ve kept you alive just to hear you scream over a few missing fingers and toes?” No, it would take more than that to satisfy him, much more. He would have Fei Long’s face twisted in agony the way his mother’s was every single day since that woman entered her life. He would have the man taste the pain he had to endure for years listening to the sound of her madness. He would have this bastard son of a whore die with the same agony on his face as his mother had the way he remembered her choking to death by a rope around her neck. “Make no mistake, Fei Long. I will strike at everything you love and treasure, and you will sit here and watch in hopelessness and despair. By the time I’m done with you, I will have you cry tears of blood and swallow hell.” This time he would be the one to destroy all that this man held dear. This time he would have his retribution.
“Give him twenty lashes. Wait one minute in between and dress his wounds afterwards. I want him alive and in a suitable condition for more. If he dies or tries to kill himself I will see to it that your entire family suffers the same fate,” Toh instructed one of his guards before he headed out the door.
***
The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Mikhail looked up and stared into the darkness that filled the distance between him and the door, waiting for a revelation that will change his life. For the past 28 hours he had been locked up in his room with minimal contact from the outside for fear that he may attempt to escape. The men had been instructed long before he'd arrived in Moscow to never allow him to leave the premises, and that should he try, he was to be confined in his room until Doctor Stefan says otherwise. He had taken comfort in the fact that they had locked him up in his own room where he could still have what he wanted, until his goddamn wife had proven just how well she knew him. The bitch had turned his room inside out the first chance she had and removed even the stash he'd hidden inside the mattress. It shouldn't have surprised him. She had been through all this before even though it had been almost two decades ago - she and Alexei.
It seemed like yesterday that Alexei was sitting right here, threatening to shoot the same drug up his arm if he didn't quit. "Do it, and remember that my death will be on your conscience for the rest of your life! Because that’s how I’d feel if you were to die," Alexei had told him with tears brimming in his eyes. He had never seen his little brother so frightened of anything before, save for that night in the storm. “You wanted to save me, you save me all the way!”
He’d managed to pull through his addiction then. But Alexei died anyway and his brother’s death was certain to be on his conscience for the rest of his life. Soon enough, when that door in front of him clicked open, his father’s death also, will be.
Doctor Stefan entered soon after with two armed guards behind him. What the hell did that old man think he would do? Stefan was an old family doctor who had helped his mother through the childbirth of both her sons. He was family - possibly the only family he would have left if the news he’d been expecting was true.
The old man entered reluctantly and seated himself on the bed, taking the younger man’s hand and squeezed it tight. He’d known Mikhail Arbatov since he was a baby, watched over him through countless colds and flu as a child and helped him through his drug addiction during his teen years. The last time he saw Vladimir’s firstborn with that expression on his face was the day before he was sent to the hospital from a heroin overdose. When Feodora called and told him to make sure Mikhail had no access to drugs, he had not been able to breathe freely or sleep soundly since. “Mishenka.”
“Is he dead?” Mikhail asked, fixing his eyes on an empty spot on the floor. The old doctor would only call him that name when he was about to say something that might affect him emotionally.
“No,” said Stefan. The man he’d helped raise was still as direct as ever. When it comes to something important, Mikhail Arbatov never beats around the bush. “His blood pressure is still quite high and he has a fever that goes up and down that we need to monitor quite closely. But other than that, Vlad should be ok.” For now. Seeing how things stand, one would never know what might trigger another heart attack.
Mikhail let out a sigh that sounded as if it had been released after a lifetime of suffocation. Stefan placed an arm around him and gave him a firm embrace. A grown man he may be, but deep down he knew his Mishenka still needed much reassurance during a time like this. He steadied himself as the younger man rested his forehead on his shoulder and squeezed his arm tight. As a boy he would always do this to stop himself from crying. At least that day he knew those unshed tears were tears of relief.
“He just woke up and has asked for you,” Stefan said, cradling the other man’s face between his wrinkly hands and slapped it softly a few times. “Clean up before you go in. Don’t let him see you like this. Don’t talk about Alexei, and don’t let him know about your drug problem.”
Mikhail nodded. For a moment there he thought he saw a strange look on the doctor’s face - one that told him the old man had more to say. “What is it?” he asked.
The doctor hesitated. “Nothing. Just go to your father.”
***
Vladimir Arbatov was lying on the bed with an IV line attached to his left arm. Mikhail seated himself by the bed and took his father’s wrinkled hand and noticed that it felt a little cold. His heart sank as he looked upon the man whose expression he had always remembered to be handsomely bold and commanding. He had never seen his father looked so old and frail. Even those deep blue eyes had turned almost grey.
“Do I really look so awful?” Vladimir asked, his voice coarser and drier than usual.
Mikhail smiled and shook his head. “You just seem...tired.”
“Don’t even bother lying to me. I can see it in your eyes. You were never as good at it as Alexei.”
Don’t talk about Alexei. Four decades of service and Stefan still didn’t know his father well enough. Vladimir Arbatov would be the last man to avoid talking about his dead son due to some kind of denial. The man had had his sizable share of sufferings and tragedies ever since he was born and had emerged victoriously as hard as a rock inside and out. Still, nothing would hurt a father more than losing a son. “Dad, don’t.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to die and leave you to deal with all of this mess,” Vladimir said as he closed his hand around Mikhail’s. It had been so long since he’d held his son’s hand or gave him an embrace. He could not remember when his boy had grown into such man - with hard edges around his face and his grip as solid as his own. He could not remember if Alexei, too, had become a proper man before he died. At that moment he could only remember his younger son smiling when he’d gotten his first bike for Christmas or when the boy cried over a scraped knee. It seemed to him that it wasn’t so long ago when he was still balancing Alexei on his shoulder, and now... “They’ve killed one of my sons, I will not let them break the other.” he said, gripping firmly the hand that held his. Mikhail was still alive - somewhat broken, but still alive. His life still had a purpose.
“I’m not that easy to break,” Mikhail replied with a faint smile as he stroked the back of his father’s hand. Even now, old, helpless and weak, his father still thought of him as a child he had to protect. As ridiculous as it sounded, and as much as he wanted to argue with that fact, deep down those words made him feel safe and protected, just as they had when he was six years old. Vladimir Arbatov lived for his family, never once losing sight of what was most important to him.
“That Liu Fei Long of Baishe... I should have known you would have never stopped until you had what you wanted. You’ve always been that way since you were a child.” As a boy, Mikhail had never given up on anything he’d set his heart upon. While Alexei would pounce on anything new and immediately disregard the old, his older son had his favorites no one was allowed to touch or part from him. Once he’d found an object he was fond of, no other toys in the world-- no matter how expensive or magical-- would get his attention. He should have seen his boy’s eyes when he looked at that man and realized that Mikhail would rather die than have anyone else. It was his job as a father to know, and he had failed at the task.
“I haven’t been the father you needed me to be. And for that Alexei paid for it with his life.” If he had been half the father Mikhail deserved, he would have supported the decision his boy so confidently made. Instead he had turned to the enemy and conspired against his own blood. Yet now the only son he had left was sitting here, blaming himself for his brother’s death when it was the result of his doing all along. He didn’t have to be told to see the guilt his firstborn was trying to swallow. When it comes to something or someone he loves being lost, Mikhail had always viewed it as his failure to protect. “Your brother’s death was not your doing, it was mine.”
“From now on you will always have my support. You have my word as your father,” he continued, his dry, rough hand trembled as it squeezed Mikhail’s tighter. Perhaps he, too, needed the strength from his own son. “I ask only one thing, and you will do this for me, for your mother, and for Alexei.”
“Put an end to your drug problem,” Vladimir demanded, his voice broken as tears rolled down his cheek. There would never be a day when he would forget the image of his son lying on the floor with his face as pale as a ghost’s, and he’d sworn to not let it happen again for as long as he lived. Somehow, somewhere he had lost sight of his own son and now he could no longer remember the last time he had seen Mikhail smile. His boy had been driven so close to that edge he’d once fallen from and he didn’t even notice. “You were such a beautiful and spirited boy. I will have my son smile again.” His time was running out, and he wanted to do at least one thing right.
It was the first time he had seen his father cried. Even when his mother died all anyone ever saw was the redness of his eyes that prolonged weeks afterwards. Mikhail felt his throat constrict as he realized his father must have known all along of his recent addiction problem, but by that time they had grown too distant over their quarrel to have a chance to sit down and talk about it.
Mikhail reached out his other hand and rested it on Vladimir’s arm. “You have my word as your son,” he said, his voice trembled as he tried to appear strong for his father. “For you, for mom, and for Alexei.”
Blinking away his tears, Vladimir Arbatov reached out to his son and ruffled his soft, blond hair. The last time Mikhail had cried in front of him was when he was thirteen years old. That boy was still there, and the sound of his sobbing was still pretty much the same. “Now, wipe those tears off your face and act like a man,” he slapped that face mildly and straightened his own expression. “Tell me everything I need to know.” They had powerful enemies at their doorstep and they must be dealt with quickly. He had no time to be lying helplessly on his sick bed.
“I’ll fill you in on that.” Stefan-- who had been in the room with them from the beginning-- cleared his throat and interrupted. “For now, there’s something else you need to know.” It was about time he gave Mikhail the news.
Mikhail winced at those words. He didn’t like the sound of it, and the look on the doctor’s face gave him a bad feeling in his stomach.
“Feodora just called. Apparently, someone has just taken over Baishe and shot all our moles. She wants to know where Liu Fei Long is, and was hoping you’d know.”
“He may be in Tokyo,” Mikhail replied blankly, still trying to process the information that had been thrown in his face so abruptly. “What do you mean taken over? Who?”
“Someone claiming to be Liu Yan Tsui - Baishe’s rightful heir.”
***
"Shit!" Akihito swore as he accidentally cut himself - again. His concentration had been off ever since Fei Long showed up at their door. And now that Yoh had just followed his boss' footsteps and had shown up too-- only with bullet holes, bruises, and knife wounds-- he hadn't been able to stop pacing back and forth and think straight even once.
What made him even more anxious, however, was Asami's reaction. The man had not said a word since Yoh passed out and the way he occasionally chewed on his cigarette told Akihito he was definitely not in a good mood. But then again, why would he be? From what he knew, Yoh had worked for Asami for a long time before Fei Long, and the first thing the man did when he showed up was shove a gun in Asami's face, saying that if he had anything to do with Fei Long being taken he would shoot him right here and now. Asami, as expected, just stood there with his eyes flashing an intimidating amber, staring the man down without a single explanation. And if Yoh knew anything about Asami at all, he would have understood the look in those eyes that the man had nothing to do with it, and that he’d found the accusation quite suicidal. Luckily, Yoh had collapsed from his wounds before the consequence of his action could be realized. To Akihito’s surprise, there was a strange look on Asami's face when Yoh jabbed the gun at his chest before he passed out in Asami's arms. It was as though the event reminded him of something disturbing Asami did not like to remember. It wasn't just anger Akihito saw at that time, it was something else - something more like a mixture of irritation and regret. He wanted to ask about it more than anything, but Asami would never tell him, and that added to the pile of things Asami pissed him off about every time he thought about it.
Whatever it was, the atmosphere in the dining room where Asami had seated himself for the past three hours smoking and making calls felt like a crime scene he was forbidden to enter. The newspaper sat untouched just as his breakfast and he was already on his second pack of Dunhill. Akihito stole a glance or two every time he walked by and overheard him talking to Kirishima on the phone about an airstrip, Baishe, and someone called Toh. But the way Asami treasured his words-- like he was losing profits for each one-- made it difficult for him to put things together without being included in the conversation. The way Asami stopped talking every time he was around also made it obvious that his involvement was strictly forbidden, which flung to the top of Akihito's pissed off pile considering that he knew both Yoh and Fei Long quite well.
It was lunchtime and Asami still hadn't moved from the spot or said a word. Akihito took it upon himself to make a quick lunch and laid it out on the table. It was then that a noise from the living room stirred Asami from his thoughts.
"No, don't get up. You will bleed again," Akihito rushed toward Yoh and supported him by the arm. Asami had called in a personal doctor to tend to Yoh's wounds within half an hour after he'd collapsed, but the man was in no shape or form to be walking around.
"I need to find him," Yoh said, his face twisted from the pain in his stomach that grew every time he breathed. A quick glance at the clock on the wall made him swear to himself. He'd been out far too long. By this time there would be no trace of Fei Long to track. That realization would have driven him to throw a few punches at the wall again, only this time he could hardly lift his arm.
"You’re not going anywhere until you're strong enough to walk, and then I will see to it that you get back to Hong Kong safely, if that's what you want," Asami said, his voice a little harsher than usual.
“Was it Toh?” Yoh asked after a brief moment of silence. If Asami had no hand in it - and from the man’s reaction Yoh had a feeling he wasn’t involved - he should at least know who ordered the ambush. He’d worked with the man for as long as he had with Fei Long, nothing happens in Tokyo without Asami Ryuichi’s knowledge.
“It was,” Asami nodded slightly as he tapped the ash off his cigarette. Kirishima had tipped him about some movements from the Chinese near Ginza, but he had paid it no attention and thought he would deal with it later. Things might have turned out differently if he had known beforehand that Fei Long was in Tokyo. It was foolish of Fei Long - having had enemies on all sides - to come to see him with so little security measures.
Yoh turned pale at the confirmation. Asami Ryuichi does not give out information he was not certain about. If the man said it was Toh, he must have had some solid evidence to back up his conclusion. He had prayed that it was someone else’s work - someone with less of a motive to hurt or kill Fei Long for the sake of it. But if it’s Toh... “I have to go,” Yoh said as he shook himself free from Akihito’s support. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to find Fei Long, and he had to find Fei Long before it was too late.
“Kirishima tracked down a jet that belonged to one of Toh’s subsidiary companies. It took off four hours ago. By this time he could be anywhere in China. You will not find him by foot,” Asami explained. The truth was, with Toh’s money and power, it would take weeks, if not months to find him - if they find him at all.
“Can’t you track where the plane landed?”
“I don’t have enough authority in China.” It was the Chinese government they were talking about. Information did not come easily if they didn’t want it known, and Toh had half the politicians in China in the palm of his hand.
Yoh could feel the strength being sucked out from his limbs just hearing those words. His legs gave out first, and he would have fallen on his knees if Akihito didn’t hold him up and urged him to sit down at the dining table. If Asami didn’t have the authority, the Chinese should. Baishe should have the power to get some information. However, Fei Long had left Hong Kong unofficially; they probably didn’t know what had happened. “I have to tell Baishe.”
“Liu Yan Tsui has taken back Baishe this morning with a resignation letter from Fei Long. That’s how I know it was Toh,” Asami said, pausing to take another puff on the cigarette. “You show up anywhere near Baishe and they will shoot you on the spot.”
“Who’s Liu Yan Tsui?” Akihito asked. By that time he’d realized the seriousness of the situation and could no longer stand being left in the dark. If he’d heard correctly, some powerful mafia named Toh had kidnapped Fei Long, on top of it all someone had snatched Baishe from him since he’d gone missing.
“Fei Long’s older brother. Liu senior's true heir,” Asami gave Akihito an irritated look as he replied and turned back towards Yoh, who now looked even more pale than when he'd first showed up.
“What are you going to do?” Akihito asked. He didn’t like the fact that Asami just ended the conversation as though the man had no more to say. Fei Long was in grave danger, and the man was just sitting there smoking his goddamn cigarette!
“Since when does this have anything to do with me?” Asami said with irritation clearly etched in his tone. He didn’t want Takaba to hear all this and get involved in the mess, especially this mess between Toh and Fei Long that apparently had not ended after seven years.
Akihito stood dumbfounded as he heard. He didn’t expect to hear such an answer, even though he’d known Asami to be cold and merciless under some circumstances. But with Fei Long, who the man had known for a long time, not to mention how they had “almost” slept together last night, he’d expected much, much more of a reaction from Asami. The anger he was feeling up until then had doubled due to that statement alone.
Yoh’s expression turned bitter as he realized the other man clearly had no intention to be involved. “I knew you didn’t care for him, but I didn’t know you would be this heartless.” To think that Fei Long had tortured himself over this man for seven years made him regret ever working for him.
Asami took a long draw from the cigarette and slowly blew out the smoke from his lungs as he showed no intention to respond. It didn’t surprise Yoh. Asami Ryuichi does not explain his decisions nor does he ever allow himself to be compelled to. “Never tell anyone what you’re thinking,” the man once taught him. It was a wise thing to do. But does anyone truly possess such control over his emotions to that degree? Does the man truly feel nothing for Fei Long or was it just his unshakable control?
“Will you at least help me keep Tao safe?” Fei Long had brought the boy along and left him at the hotel. If Yan Tsui had taken over Baishe, Tao would no longer have anywhere to go, especially anywhere safe enough for him to hide. If he was going to find Fei Long at all, he could not afford to look after the boy.
Asami took another puff on the cigarette and exhaled as he considered the request. He’d heard a lot about Fei Long’s squire from Akihito. Apparently the boy was considered dear to Fei Long and obviously would be in danger for that reason alone. “I can bring him to a safe place.”
“You know the only safe place for him is here,” Yoh said, staring back at those sharp, golden eyes, knowing ahead of time that would be the answer from the other man. Tao had to be kept here. Toh would not risk crossing someone like Asami Ryuichi, especially in his territory.
“I’m not going to babysit someone’s squire.”
He should have ended the conversation right there, but at that point, Yoh no longer cared what would happen to him. “You owe him that much.”
Asami’s eyes flashed a burning gold. “I don’t owe him shit,” he replied, slow and with a sharp edge to his tone. Every time he gets involved with Fei Long his life turned into one big mess, and according to that last incident, it was Fei Long who owed him for kidnapping Akihito and put the boy in danger.
That last sentence made Akihito snap. He kicked his chair back and stood up abruptly, staring at the older man with eyes full of conviction. “Then I will take care of Tao and go with him to Hong Kong.”
“Akihito,” Asami said with the tone that could have made a grown man shit himself. “Sit. Down.”
The entire room fell suffocatingly silent as Akihito continued to stand and stared back into those golden eyes.
“No,” the younger man said with his chin up and his voice ringing loud and clear. “Whether you like it or not, Tao is my friend and Fei Long was nice to me. I’m not going to sit here and do nothing while my friends are in danger.”
Nice? Asami would have laughed at that statement if only he wasn’t so agitated by the defiance in the boy’s tone. “Perhaps you forgot, he kidnapped and repeatedly raped you.” That was one thing he would never forget nor forgive Fei Long over.
“And you didn’t?!” Akihito threw those words back in his face without a moment of hesitation. “Look to thy own ass first, Asami. I’m going to help Fei Long. And you’re not going to stop me.”
“And how exactly are you going to help him?” Asami said with a sneer, even though all he wanted to do at that point was to shoot the man who’d brought this into his house in the first place.
“I don’t know,” Akihito replied firmly, despite the meaning of his words. “But that doesn’t stop me.”
It may have been his imagination, but for a moment, Yoh thought he heard the older man growl. And Asami Ryuichi does not growl at a nuisance, he eliminates it.
“I will not have you involved in this,” Asami commanded with a glare that gave Yoh a chill running down his spine. When the boss uses that tone, everyone knew it was final.
Apparently for Takaba Akihito, it wasn’t.
“Of course not,” the boy countered swiftly. “You’ve never involved me in anything you do unless you need a fuck.” It was true, and he’d tried to swallow it until he could swallow no more. He was too sick of always being kept in the dark and it was about time he was treated like a person, not a sex toy. He wanted to be included. He wanted to know more about the man than how well he can fuck. It pissed him off to no ends that everyone including Fei Long knew more about Asami than he did, and he was living with the man, goddamn it.
“Unless you get off your ass and do something about it, I’m going with him. And you can go fuck yourself instead when you need to.”
Yoh held his breath at the silence that followed. Perhaps his ears had malfunctioned due to being beaten up earlier that day, but did he or did he not just hear someone tell Asami Ryuichi to go fuck himself?
And then he saw it - the reason why Fei Long would never succeed or come close to making this man his. As infuriated as he was, Asami Ryuichi took out his phone and called Kirishima.
“Go to Park Hyatt and pick up Fei Long’s squire and bring him to me. And tell Suoh to get my jet ready. I’m going to Hong Kong.”
When he hung up the phone, he turned back to the boy with a glare that could peel paint off the wall.
“And you, Takaba Akihito. You are going to pay for this.”
***
P.S. I know I don't deserve it for taking this long to update, but if you're still reading this, please let me know your thoughts. From now I'll be writing a lot of Asami and Aki, but not much about their relationships, it'll more about their role in helping Fei Long. So for those who don't like Ax A, don't freak out. XD
P.P.S. this is for my translators, I have been utterly ungrateful even though you all have helped spread the Mik x Fei love into 7 languages and I have not updated my sidebars or thank you enough. I promise I will do that as soon as I can.
FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KNOW, THERE WAS A FEI BIRTHDAY FIC CONTEST LAST MONTH AND THE POLL IS UP RIGHT NOW UNTIL THIS SUNDAY AFTERNOON FOR YOU TO VOTE. I AM NOT SEEING A LOT OF FEI FANS VOTING. IF YOU'RE AROUND PLEASE MAKE THE DEADLINE AND VOTE. SHOW YOUR LOVE FOR FEI OR ELSE WE MAY NEVER GET TO SEE HIM AGAIN. PLEASE TAKE THE TIME AND SHOW THE WORLD WE ARE STILL HERE. YOU DON'T HAVE TO VOTE FOR ME, JUST VOTE (OR VOTE FOR MIKHAIL XD). THE POST IS HERE: http://yamane-ayano.livejournal.com/2397011.html. THANK YOU GIRLS.
Title: Retribution Ten
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, Asami, Akihito, and OCs
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All characters belong to YA sensei.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish, and newly added French translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
Special thanks to sunflower1343 for the insights to A x A ^_^
Retribution Ten
Fuck.
Yoh cursed as he propped himself up against a wall and pain shot through his body like an electrical current. Two bullets were still embedded in his body, one in his stomach, the other in his left shoulder. The bruises they gave him before he’d managed to fight them off and escape didn’t really help either. He usually considered himself pretty handy against a few foes, but there were five of them and each one was a well-trained assassin equipped to the teeth with professional weapons. Not to mention they had been ordered to kill.
Fuck. He threw a punch at the wall, and when it didn’t help he punched it again and again until there wasn’t much skin left covering his knuckles. How could he not have known someone was tailing him? Why the hell didn’t he insist that Fei Long take more men with him? How could he have let this happen on his watch? Somebody sent five assassins upon Fei Long and all he could do was watch them speed him away in the back of a car!
He hurled at the wall again and this time a loud groan forced its way out from the pain in his shoulder. His entire body felt like it was about to fall apart, although his control had long shattered the moment he realized Fei Long had been taken. He could not remember the last time he swore so much. Panting heavily, Yoh closed his eyes and counted to five.
One.
It had been far too long since the last time he’d lost control that he no longer knew how to deal with it. His pulse was racing, his heart was pounding so hard it made his wounds ache twice as much, and he could not stand still no matter how hard he tried. Calm down. Think. Think fast!
Two.
His hands balled. He tried to stop them from trembling. Both of his palms were slick with a mixture of sweat and blood. Stop shaking. Stop. They took Fei Long. They didn’t kill him on the spot. That means he should be safe - for now.
Three.
Wiping the blood from his brows, Yoh closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. That knife wound on his forehead was going to need at least ten stitches. But compared to what they would do to Fei Long, if he was still alive, it would be considered a scratch. That thought alone made him want to throw up. Fei Long is alive. He has to be. He bit down on his lip, his muscles hardened and strained as he continued to gain back control. His heart was still beating too fast and his head throbbed like it was about to explode. He needed to be able to think straight.
Four.
Breathe, you piece of shit. Breathe. If he could figure out for sure who ordered the attack, he would know where they were taking him. What did they look like? They were covered in black from head to toe and they all wore masks. Did they make a sound? What was their accent? From their built and style of fighting it was likely they were Asians. Was it Toh or was it someone else? No Chinese could make a move like this in Tokyo unnoticed. Someone had helped them or had been paid to turn a blind eye. Was it the Chinese at all?
Five.
To Yoh’s relief, his pulse had slowed down and his breathing was somewhat normal. But the pain in his stomach grew by the minute and his head was spinning. Damn it! He was losing too much blood.
Ignoring the bullet wounds and the fact that he could bleed to death in that deserted alley, he fished out a cell phone and stared at it for a full minute. But who could he call? Mikhail was in Russia, and for all he knew Baishe’s men could no longer be trusted. He couldn’t risk leaking the information that the head of Baishe had been kidnapped either. No, he couldn’t make a call. Before his body shuts down, he had to get himself to safety and track the kidnapper down before it’s too late.
Gathering whatever strength he had left, Yoh placed a hand over the wound in his stomach to help delay the bleeding and wobbled over to a car parked ten paces from where he stood. Making sure no one was looking, he threw a rock at the window and opened the door. It was the only way he could get out of there without being seen by the public. He was, after all, covered in enough blood to go in tomorrow’s newspaper.
Having to drive with one hand, it had taken him a little longer than he’d anticipated to get to the only place he could think of that would answer his questions. Buttoning up his jacket in an attempt to conceal the blood on his shirt, he stepped out of the car and tidied himself up the best he could as to not draw attention.
When he’d managed to drag himself to the building’s entrance, Yoh pushed the button on the intercom and prayed the man would be home.
***
A drop of freezing cold water fell on his forehead and rolled down the side of his cheek. Fei Long opened his eyes and blinked a few times until his blurry vision became clearer. The small, worn out room was dimly lit by a single light bulb in the middle of the ceiling. The air smelled like a mixture of sewage and rusting metal. The concrete floor beneath him was cold and damp, and to his right stood an old, empty chair that looked like it had been thrown against the wall too many times. On the wall behind him, running all the way up to the ceiling was a number of rusting steel chains permanently fixed into the concrete.
In the middle of the room, Fei Long had been suspended from the ceiling by the wrists, which would explain the stiffness he felt in his shoulder blades when he first gained consciousness. His toes barely touched the ground to support his weight, making his wrists ached and burned from the cuffs every time he moved.
An interrogation room or a torture chamber? Fei Long knew these rooms like the back of his hands. He knew how they looked, how they smelled, and how they were put to use. He knew the deep brown stains on the floor, the promise of pain, and the whispers of ghosts that usually lingered. But the distinction between the two was never that obvious.
Still a little dizzy, Fei Long shook his head to clear his mind and tried to get a grip on the situation at hand. He remembered it now. Someone had drugged him in front of that hotel as he was leaving, and they’ve taken him here. But who, and why? As the head of Baishe people usually want him as an ally or want him dead. Kidnapping him, on the other hand, meant that it was either the work of a suicidal idiot who thought he could earn some big bucks and live to spend it, or a very daring move of a man who had some very personal issues with him. Because the way they had taken him was far too well executed to be the first, it leaves the latter as the only sensible possibility. And there was only one man he knew who would take immense pleasure in torturing him to death.
He closed his eyes and began to laugh hysterically. It echoed back and forth in the room as if the spirits of past victims were laughing at him too. It sounded like his life all right. He had locked himself up in his own emotional jail for as long as he could remember and made damn sure all the happiness in the world would never find him. When he’d decided to come out and go for it, here he was, back in prison, waiting for execution whenever his enemy had had enough of hearing him scream. When he gets out of this mess he would seriously have to consider believing in God. Only a divine intervention could fuck up his life so much. If he ever gets out, that is.
He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious. They’d stripped him bare and put him in a pair of black filthy trousers that seemed to have been worn again and again, possibly by too many dead men than he’d want to imagine. His watch and all jewelry had been removed to make sure he carried no tracking devices. For once, he was glad to have returned the pendent to Mikhail. They would have taken it too, and an object that means so much to him would have been in possession of some scum who would pawn it away for a little sum of money.
The next thing he knew he was awaken by a bucket of ice cold water that stung him like a hundred needles all at once. That was how he knew he was not being held in Hong Kong. That water was naturally cold and there had been no ice in it. Hong Kong never gets that cold in winter and the air smelled different.
When he opened his eyes two Chinese guards in black were standing in front of him in a formal stance with hands behind their backs. Behind them stood a tall, slender figure in white cheongsam with an embroidered dragon that stretched from his right shoulder to his left hip.
“I was beginning to think you didn’t have the guts to show up here,” Fei Long said with a sneer, his voice trembled from the cold that pricked mercilessly at his skin.
The blow that followed swiftly on his right cheek felt like someone had slammed a chair at his head. Fei Long had never realized the man was that strong or that fast. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one whose strength often gets underestimated due to his appearance. A little harder than that and he would have lost a few teeth.
“Don’t give me a reason to rip out your tongue prematurely,” Toh said, shaking his hand a few times before wiping the blood off his knuckles.
Oh but you won’t. Not until you’ve heard me scream and beg for mercy, Fei Long thought. “No, that wouldn’t be too much fun, would it? You’ve been waiting for this chance for what? All your life?” Probably longer than he’d been obsessed with hunting down Asami at least, thanks to his goddamn mother who had to seduce Toh senior and got herself knocked up with a bastard in her belly. From what he’d heard, it had driven Mrs. Toh mad enough to hang herself in front of her own child. And that wonderful mother of his still had the nerve to get him adopted by a rival family who in turn raised the bastard up to finish off his own father. His existence had ruined two entire families - three if he were to count the Arbatovs. Isn’t that something?
Another punch landed on the opposite side of his cheek, this time by one of the guards. It didn’t hurt as much as his boss’ initial strike, but the knee in the stomach that followed did hurt quite a bit, and the force made him throw up on the floor.
Phillip Toh stepped around the mess with disgust and moved closer to the prisoner he’d long dreamt of getting his hands on. “What was it they say about you? The pretty and graceful Liu Fei Long of Baishe, was it?” Toh said, lifting the other man’s chin with the tips of his fingers. “Not so graceful now, are you? Although, I have to say you’re still very pretty. You have your mother’s eyes, did you know that?” Yes, he could still remember that woman’s face so vividly. It was the kind of beauty that could steal any man’s heart, and her son did not fall too far from the tree. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that later.”
Fei Long spat the mixture of blood and bile on the floor and sneered at the remark. “Why wait?” he asked laughingly. What Toh had given him so far was no more painful than what he’d endured in the past as the family’s assassin. His training had been harder than this, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been captured by his enemy either. Although, he had to admit not being beaten to a pulp for a decade did make it difficult for him to hold back his breakfast. “Still trying to figure out what you’re going to do when you’ve finished me off? You do realize you’ll have to go to war with Baishe while the Russians hunt you down like a dog,” Fei Long said with a smirk. By that time, Baishe would have known of his disappearance and the Russians would never let the golden opportunity of revenge slip through their fingers.
Toh’s lips curved up into an ugly smile as he listened. It pleased him immensely to know his plans had not been leaked and he was anxious to see that beautiful face twisted in agony once he reveals it.
“You’re right about one thing,” Toh said as he stepped forward, making sure he was heard loud and clear. “I will finish you off. Although, your resignation will be acknowledged long before your body turns up in a dumpster. I’d be surprised if by that time anyone at Baishe still gives a damn.”
It was the most ridiculous thing Fei Long had ever heard. The man must have lost his mind. “What makes you think I would resign?”
“Oh, but you already have,” Toh replied with a triumphant smile. “As of today you have left Baishe and have presumably gone off on vacation somewhere with your Russian boyfriend.”
Fei Long would have laughed if his lips didn’t hurt so much. Damn, that first punch still hurt like hell. “And you think anyone will believe that crap?” The entire organization knew he had no reason to resign and would never do something so foolish.
“Perhaps you’ve already forgotten, my dear little brother,” Toh said, his eyes sparkled in delight. “You are my father’s bastard. There isn’t a single drop of Liu’s blood in your body. That throne you’ve been sitting on has never been yours by right.”
“As of yesterday, while you were too busy fucking that Japanese man in Tokyo, Liu Yan Tsui has returned to Baishe and reclaimed his birthright - with your letter of resignation, of course.”
The realization suddenly struck him like lightning. Fei Long didn’t have to look at himself in the mirror to know the expression on his face at that moment would give Toh tremendous pleasure. He had neglected to consider that possibility that the moment Yan Tsui returned to Baishe, he would have to resign whether or not he was willing to. It was a perfect excuse for his disappearance and while many might find it questionable, over time such doubts would easily be forgotten. Until then Yan had been a suspect in hiding, but if someone like Toh wanted the case forgotten it would be too easy to accomplish with so many politicians in his hands. He had forgotten all about Yan and drowned himself in his personal issues. If Yan Tsui was truly working with Phillip Toh and Baishe was under his control, no one will even look for him.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Toh said with a sarcastic smile. Seeing blood drained from that face he’d despised with every breath he took brought him so much satisfaction he could hardly contain.
“And as for that charming prince you were counting on,” Toh continued slowly, taking an ample pause between his words. “Unless he has a change of heart, your knight in shining armor will just have to go down with you.” Oh he had plans for Mikhail Arbatov - ones that will make Fei Long toss and turn in his grave long after. “It will be too easy, with you in my grasp and him willing to sacrifice anything for you.”
Until then Fei Long had felt only spite and irritation in his heart, but the moment Toh mentioned his other plans, an uncontrollable rage consumed him. Fei Long lunged forward violently, tugging on the chains above him until the cuffs dug deeper into his flesh. “You son of a bitch!” he growled, gritting his teeth until his jaws ached as much as the pain on his face. “You leave him out of this! Your quarrel is with me.”
The reaction from his prisoner pleased Toh to no ends. Fei Long had been trained to endure physical pain to a great extent, so he thought the only thing that would truly tear the man apart was an attack aimed directly at those closest to his heart. Apparently, he was not wrong.
"Did you really think that I’ve kept you alive just to hear you scream over a few missing fingers and toes?” No, it would take more than that to satisfy him, much more. He would have Fei Long’s face twisted in agony the way his mother’s was every single day since that woman entered her life. He would have the man taste the pain he had to endure for years listening to the sound of her madness. He would have this bastard son of a whore die with the same agony on his face as his mother had the way he remembered her choking to death by a rope around her neck. “Make no mistake, Fei Long. I will strike at everything you love and treasure, and you will sit here and watch in hopelessness and despair. By the time I’m done with you, I will have you cry tears of blood and swallow hell.” This time he would be the one to destroy all that this man held dear. This time he would have his retribution.
“Give him twenty lashes. Wait one minute in between and dress his wounds afterwards. I want him alive and in a suitable condition for more. If he dies or tries to kill himself I will see to it that your entire family suffers the same fate,” Toh instructed one of his guards before he headed out the door.
***
The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Mikhail looked up and stared into the darkness that filled the distance between him and the door, waiting for a revelation that will change his life. For the past 28 hours he had been locked up in his room with minimal contact from the outside for fear that he may attempt to escape. The men had been instructed long before he'd arrived in Moscow to never allow him to leave the premises, and that should he try, he was to be confined in his room until Doctor Stefan says otherwise. He had taken comfort in the fact that they had locked him up in his own room where he could still have what he wanted, until his goddamn wife had proven just how well she knew him. The bitch had turned his room inside out the first chance she had and removed even the stash he'd hidden inside the mattress. It shouldn't have surprised him. She had been through all this before even though it had been almost two decades ago - she and Alexei.
It seemed like yesterday that Alexei was sitting right here, threatening to shoot the same drug up his arm if he didn't quit. "Do it, and remember that my death will be on your conscience for the rest of your life! Because that’s how I’d feel if you were to die," Alexei had told him with tears brimming in his eyes. He had never seen his little brother so frightened of anything before, save for that night in the storm. “You wanted to save me, you save me all the way!”
He’d managed to pull through his addiction then. But Alexei died anyway and his brother’s death was certain to be on his conscience for the rest of his life. Soon enough, when that door in front of him clicked open, his father’s death also, will be.
Doctor Stefan entered soon after with two armed guards behind him. What the hell did that old man think he would do? Stefan was an old family doctor who had helped his mother through the childbirth of both her sons. He was family - possibly the only family he would have left if the news he’d been expecting was true.
The old man entered reluctantly and seated himself on the bed, taking the younger man’s hand and squeezed it tight. He’d known Mikhail Arbatov since he was a baby, watched over him through countless colds and flu as a child and helped him through his drug addiction during his teen years. The last time he saw Vladimir’s firstborn with that expression on his face was the day before he was sent to the hospital from a heroin overdose. When Feodora called and told him to make sure Mikhail had no access to drugs, he had not been able to breathe freely or sleep soundly since. “Mishenka.”
“Is he dead?” Mikhail asked, fixing his eyes on an empty spot on the floor. The old doctor would only call him that name when he was about to say something that might affect him emotionally.
“No,” said Stefan. The man he’d helped raise was still as direct as ever. When it comes to something important, Mikhail Arbatov never beats around the bush. “His blood pressure is still quite high and he has a fever that goes up and down that we need to monitor quite closely. But other than that, Vlad should be ok.” For now. Seeing how things stand, one would never know what might trigger another heart attack.
Mikhail let out a sigh that sounded as if it had been released after a lifetime of suffocation. Stefan placed an arm around him and gave him a firm embrace. A grown man he may be, but deep down he knew his Mishenka still needed much reassurance during a time like this. He steadied himself as the younger man rested his forehead on his shoulder and squeezed his arm tight. As a boy he would always do this to stop himself from crying. At least that day he knew those unshed tears were tears of relief.
“He just woke up and has asked for you,” Stefan said, cradling the other man’s face between his wrinkly hands and slapped it softly a few times. “Clean up before you go in. Don’t let him see you like this. Don’t talk about Alexei, and don’t let him know about your drug problem.”
Mikhail nodded. For a moment there he thought he saw a strange look on the doctor’s face - one that told him the old man had more to say. “What is it?” he asked.
The doctor hesitated. “Nothing. Just go to your father.”
***
Vladimir Arbatov was lying on the bed with an IV line attached to his left arm. Mikhail seated himself by the bed and took his father’s wrinkled hand and noticed that it felt a little cold. His heart sank as he looked upon the man whose expression he had always remembered to be handsomely bold and commanding. He had never seen his father looked so old and frail. Even those deep blue eyes had turned almost grey.
“Do I really look so awful?” Vladimir asked, his voice coarser and drier than usual.
Mikhail smiled and shook his head. “You just seem...tired.”
“Don’t even bother lying to me. I can see it in your eyes. You were never as good at it as Alexei.”
Don’t talk about Alexei. Four decades of service and Stefan still didn’t know his father well enough. Vladimir Arbatov would be the last man to avoid talking about his dead son due to some kind of denial. The man had had his sizable share of sufferings and tragedies ever since he was born and had emerged victoriously as hard as a rock inside and out. Still, nothing would hurt a father more than losing a son. “Dad, don’t.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to die and leave you to deal with all of this mess,” Vladimir said as he closed his hand around Mikhail’s. It had been so long since he’d held his son’s hand or gave him an embrace. He could not remember when his boy had grown into such man - with hard edges around his face and his grip as solid as his own. He could not remember if Alexei, too, had become a proper man before he died. At that moment he could only remember his younger son smiling when he’d gotten his first bike for Christmas or when the boy cried over a scraped knee. It seemed to him that it wasn’t so long ago when he was still balancing Alexei on his shoulder, and now... “They’ve killed one of my sons, I will not let them break the other.” he said, gripping firmly the hand that held his. Mikhail was still alive - somewhat broken, but still alive. His life still had a purpose.
“I’m not that easy to break,” Mikhail replied with a faint smile as he stroked the back of his father’s hand. Even now, old, helpless and weak, his father still thought of him as a child he had to protect. As ridiculous as it sounded, and as much as he wanted to argue with that fact, deep down those words made him feel safe and protected, just as they had when he was six years old. Vladimir Arbatov lived for his family, never once losing sight of what was most important to him.
“That Liu Fei Long of Baishe... I should have known you would have never stopped until you had what you wanted. You’ve always been that way since you were a child.” As a boy, Mikhail had never given up on anything he’d set his heart upon. While Alexei would pounce on anything new and immediately disregard the old, his older son had his favorites no one was allowed to touch or part from him. Once he’d found an object he was fond of, no other toys in the world-- no matter how expensive or magical-- would get his attention. He should have seen his boy’s eyes when he looked at that man and realized that Mikhail would rather die than have anyone else. It was his job as a father to know, and he had failed at the task.
“I haven’t been the father you needed me to be. And for that Alexei paid for it with his life.” If he had been half the father Mikhail deserved, he would have supported the decision his boy so confidently made. Instead he had turned to the enemy and conspired against his own blood. Yet now the only son he had left was sitting here, blaming himself for his brother’s death when it was the result of his doing all along. He didn’t have to be told to see the guilt his firstborn was trying to swallow. When it comes to something or someone he loves being lost, Mikhail had always viewed it as his failure to protect. “Your brother’s death was not your doing, it was mine.”
“From now on you will always have my support. You have my word as your father,” he continued, his dry, rough hand trembled as it squeezed Mikhail’s tighter. Perhaps he, too, needed the strength from his own son. “I ask only one thing, and you will do this for me, for your mother, and for Alexei.”
“Put an end to your drug problem,” Vladimir demanded, his voice broken as tears rolled down his cheek. There would never be a day when he would forget the image of his son lying on the floor with his face as pale as a ghost’s, and he’d sworn to not let it happen again for as long as he lived. Somehow, somewhere he had lost sight of his own son and now he could no longer remember the last time he had seen Mikhail smile. His boy had been driven so close to that edge he’d once fallen from and he didn’t even notice. “You were such a beautiful and spirited boy. I will have my son smile again.” His time was running out, and he wanted to do at least one thing right.
It was the first time he had seen his father cried. Even when his mother died all anyone ever saw was the redness of his eyes that prolonged weeks afterwards. Mikhail felt his throat constrict as he realized his father must have known all along of his recent addiction problem, but by that time they had grown too distant over their quarrel to have a chance to sit down and talk about it.
Mikhail reached out his other hand and rested it on Vladimir’s arm. “You have my word as your son,” he said, his voice trembled as he tried to appear strong for his father. “For you, for mom, and for Alexei.”
Blinking away his tears, Vladimir Arbatov reached out to his son and ruffled his soft, blond hair. The last time Mikhail had cried in front of him was when he was thirteen years old. That boy was still there, and the sound of his sobbing was still pretty much the same. “Now, wipe those tears off your face and act like a man,” he slapped that face mildly and straightened his own expression. “Tell me everything I need to know.” They had powerful enemies at their doorstep and they must be dealt with quickly. He had no time to be lying helplessly on his sick bed.
“I’ll fill you in on that.” Stefan-- who had been in the room with them from the beginning-- cleared his throat and interrupted. “For now, there’s something else you need to know.” It was about time he gave Mikhail the news.
Mikhail winced at those words. He didn’t like the sound of it, and the look on the doctor’s face gave him a bad feeling in his stomach.
“Feodora just called. Apparently, someone has just taken over Baishe and shot all our moles. She wants to know where Liu Fei Long is, and was hoping you’d know.”
“He may be in Tokyo,” Mikhail replied blankly, still trying to process the information that had been thrown in his face so abruptly. “What do you mean taken over? Who?”
“Someone claiming to be Liu Yan Tsui - Baishe’s rightful heir.”
***
"Shit!" Akihito swore as he accidentally cut himself - again. His concentration had been off ever since Fei Long showed up at their door. And now that Yoh had just followed his boss' footsteps and had shown up too-- only with bullet holes, bruises, and knife wounds-- he hadn't been able to stop pacing back and forth and think straight even once.
What made him even more anxious, however, was Asami's reaction. The man had not said a word since Yoh passed out and the way he occasionally chewed on his cigarette told Akihito he was definitely not in a good mood. But then again, why would he be? From what he knew, Yoh had worked for Asami for a long time before Fei Long, and the first thing the man did when he showed up was shove a gun in Asami's face, saying that if he had anything to do with Fei Long being taken he would shoot him right here and now. Asami, as expected, just stood there with his eyes flashing an intimidating amber, staring the man down without a single explanation. And if Yoh knew anything about Asami at all, he would have understood the look in those eyes that the man had nothing to do with it, and that he’d found the accusation quite suicidal. Luckily, Yoh had collapsed from his wounds before the consequence of his action could be realized. To Akihito’s surprise, there was a strange look on Asami's face when Yoh jabbed the gun at his chest before he passed out in Asami's arms. It was as though the event reminded him of something disturbing Asami did not like to remember. It wasn't just anger Akihito saw at that time, it was something else - something more like a mixture of irritation and regret. He wanted to ask about it more than anything, but Asami would never tell him, and that added to the pile of things Asami pissed him off about every time he thought about it.
Whatever it was, the atmosphere in the dining room where Asami had seated himself for the past three hours smoking and making calls felt like a crime scene he was forbidden to enter. The newspaper sat untouched just as his breakfast and he was already on his second pack of Dunhill. Akihito stole a glance or two every time he walked by and overheard him talking to Kirishima on the phone about an airstrip, Baishe, and someone called Toh. But the way Asami treasured his words-- like he was losing profits for each one-- made it difficult for him to put things together without being included in the conversation. The way Asami stopped talking every time he was around also made it obvious that his involvement was strictly forbidden, which flung to the top of Akihito's pissed off pile considering that he knew both Yoh and Fei Long quite well.
It was lunchtime and Asami still hadn't moved from the spot or said a word. Akihito took it upon himself to make a quick lunch and laid it out on the table. It was then that a noise from the living room stirred Asami from his thoughts.
"No, don't get up. You will bleed again," Akihito rushed toward Yoh and supported him by the arm. Asami had called in a personal doctor to tend to Yoh's wounds within half an hour after he'd collapsed, but the man was in no shape or form to be walking around.
"I need to find him," Yoh said, his face twisted from the pain in his stomach that grew every time he breathed. A quick glance at the clock on the wall made him swear to himself. He'd been out far too long. By this time there would be no trace of Fei Long to track. That realization would have driven him to throw a few punches at the wall again, only this time he could hardly lift his arm.
"You’re not going anywhere until you're strong enough to walk, and then I will see to it that you get back to Hong Kong safely, if that's what you want," Asami said, his voice a little harsher than usual.
“Was it Toh?” Yoh asked after a brief moment of silence. If Asami had no hand in it - and from the man’s reaction Yoh had a feeling he wasn’t involved - he should at least know who ordered the ambush. He’d worked with the man for as long as he had with Fei Long, nothing happens in Tokyo without Asami Ryuichi’s knowledge.
“It was,” Asami nodded slightly as he tapped the ash off his cigarette. Kirishima had tipped him about some movements from the Chinese near Ginza, but he had paid it no attention and thought he would deal with it later. Things might have turned out differently if he had known beforehand that Fei Long was in Tokyo. It was foolish of Fei Long - having had enemies on all sides - to come to see him with so little security measures.
Yoh turned pale at the confirmation. Asami Ryuichi does not give out information he was not certain about. If the man said it was Toh, he must have had some solid evidence to back up his conclusion. He had prayed that it was someone else’s work - someone with less of a motive to hurt or kill Fei Long for the sake of it. But if it’s Toh... “I have to go,” Yoh said as he shook himself free from Akihito’s support. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to find Fei Long, and he had to find Fei Long before it was too late.
“Kirishima tracked down a jet that belonged to one of Toh’s subsidiary companies. It took off four hours ago. By this time he could be anywhere in China. You will not find him by foot,” Asami explained. The truth was, with Toh’s money and power, it would take weeks, if not months to find him - if they find him at all.
“Can’t you track where the plane landed?”
“I don’t have enough authority in China.” It was the Chinese government they were talking about. Information did not come easily if they didn’t want it known, and Toh had half the politicians in China in the palm of his hand.
Yoh could feel the strength being sucked out from his limbs just hearing those words. His legs gave out first, and he would have fallen on his knees if Akihito didn’t hold him up and urged him to sit down at the dining table. If Asami didn’t have the authority, the Chinese should. Baishe should have the power to get some information. However, Fei Long had left Hong Kong unofficially; they probably didn’t know what had happened. “I have to tell Baishe.”
“Liu Yan Tsui has taken back Baishe this morning with a resignation letter from Fei Long. That’s how I know it was Toh,” Asami said, pausing to take another puff on the cigarette. “You show up anywhere near Baishe and they will shoot you on the spot.”
“Who’s Liu Yan Tsui?” Akihito asked. By that time he’d realized the seriousness of the situation and could no longer stand being left in the dark. If he’d heard correctly, some powerful mafia named Toh had kidnapped Fei Long, on top of it all someone had snatched Baishe from him since he’d gone missing.
“Fei Long’s older brother. Liu senior's true heir,” Asami gave Akihito an irritated look as he replied and turned back towards Yoh, who now looked even more pale than when he'd first showed up.
“What are you going to do?” Akihito asked. He didn’t like the fact that Asami just ended the conversation as though the man had no more to say. Fei Long was in grave danger, and the man was just sitting there smoking his goddamn cigarette!
“Since when does this have anything to do with me?” Asami said with irritation clearly etched in his tone. He didn’t want Takaba to hear all this and get involved in the mess, especially this mess between Toh and Fei Long that apparently had not ended after seven years.
Akihito stood dumbfounded as he heard. He didn’t expect to hear such an answer, even though he’d known Asami to be cold and merciless under some circumstances. But with Fei Long, who the man had known for a long time, not to mention how they had “almost” slept together last night, he’d expected much, much more of a reaction from Asami. The anger he was feeling up until then had doubled due to that statement alone.
Yoh’s expression turned bitter as he realized the other man clearly had no intention to be involved. “I knew you didn’t care for him, but I didn’t know you would be this heartless.” To think that Fei Long had tortured himself over this man for seven years made him regret ever working for him.
Asami took a long draw from the cigarette and slowly blew out the smoke from his lungs as he showed no intention to respond. It didn’t surprise Yoh. Asami Ryuichi does not explain his decisions nor does he ever allow himself to be compelled to. “Never tell anyone what you’re thinking,” the man once taught him. It was a wise thing to do. But does anyone truly possess such control over his emotions to that degree? Does the man truly feel nothing for Fei Long or was it just his unshakable control?
“Will you at least help me keep Tao safe?” Fei Long had brought the boy along and left him at the hotel. If Yan Tsui had taken over Baishe, Tao would no longer have anywhere to go, especially anywhere safe enough for him to hide. If he was going to find Fei Long at all, he could not afford to look after the boy.
Asami took another puff on the cigarette and exhaled as he considered the request. He’d heard a lot about Fei Long’s squire from Akihito. Apparently the boy was considered dear to Fei Long and obviously would be in danger for that reason alone. “I can bring him to a safe place.”
“You know the only safe place for him is here,” Yoh said, staring back at those sharp, golden eyes, knowing ahead of time that would be the answer from the other man. Tao had to be kept here. Toh would not risk crossing someone like Asami Ryuichi, especially in his territory.
“I’m not going to babysit someone’s squire.”
He should have ended the conversation right there, but at that point, Yoh no longer cared what would happen to him. “You owe him that much.”
Asami’s eyes flashed a burning gold. “I don’t owe him shit,” he replied, slow and with a sharp edge to his tone. Every time he gets involved with Fei Long his life turned into one big mess, and according to that last incident, it was Fei Long who owed him for kidnapping Akihito and put the boy in danger.
That last sentence made Akihito snap. He kicked his chair back and stood up abruptly, staring at the older man with eyes full of conviction. “Then I will take care of Tao and go with him to Hong Kong.”
“Akihito,” Asami said with the tone that could have made a grown man shit himself. “Sit. Down.”
The entire room fell suffocatingly silent as Akihito continued to stand and stared back into those golden eyes.
“No,” the younger man said with his chin up and his voice ringing loud and clear. “Whether you like it or not, Tao is my friend and Fei Long was nice to me. I’m not going to sit here and do nothing while my friends are in danger.”
Nice? Asami would have laughed at that statement if only he wasn’t so agitated by the defiance in the boy’s tone. “Perhaps you forgot, he kidnapped and repeatedly raped you.” That was one thing he would never forget nor forgive Fei Long over.
“And you didn’t?!” Akihito threw those words back in his face without a moment of hesitation. “Look to thy own ass first, Asami. I’m going to help Fei Long. And you’re not going to stop me.”
“And how exactly are you going to help him?” Asami said with a sneer, even though all he wanted to do at that point was to shoot the man who’d brought this into his house in the first place.
“I don’t know,” Akihito replied firmly, despite the meaning of his words. “But that doesn’t stop me.”
It may have been his imagination, but for a moment, Yoh thought he heard the older man growl. And Asami Ryuichi does not growl at a nuisance, he eliminates it.
“I will not have you involved in this,” Asami commanded with a glare that gave Yoh a chill running down his spine. When the boss uses that tone, everyone knew it was final.
Apparently for Takaba Akihito, it wasn’t.
“Of course not,” the boy countered swiftly. “You’ve never involved me in anything you do unless you need a fuck.” It was true, and he’d tried to swallow it until he could swallow no more. He was too sick of always being kept in the dark and it was about time he was treated like a person, not a sex toy. He wanted to be included. He wanted to know more about the man than how well he can fuck. It pissed him off to no ends that everyone including Fei Long knew more about Asami than he did, and he was living with the man, goddamn it.
“Unless you get off your ass and do something about it, I’m going with him. And you can go fuck yourself instead when you need to.”
Yoh held his breath at the silence that followed. Perhaps his ears had malfunctioned due to being beaten up earlier that day, but did he or did he not just hear someone tell Asami Ryuichi to go fuck himself?
And then he saw it - the reason why Fei Long would never succeed or come close to making this man his. As infuriated as he was, Asami Ryuichi took out his phone and called Kirishima.
“Go to Park Hyatt and pick up Fei Long’s squire and bring him to me. And tell Suoh to get my jet ready. I’m going to Hong Kong.”
When he hung up the phone, he turned back to the boy with a glare that could peel paint off the wall.
“And you, Takaba Akihito. You are going to pay for this.”
***
P.S. I know I don't deserve it for taking this long to update, but if you're still reading this, please let me know your thoughts. From now I'll be writing a lot of Asami and Aki, but not much about their relationships, it'll more about their role in helping Fei Long. So for those who don't like Ax A, don't freak out. XD
P.P.S. this is for my translators, I have been utterly ungrateful even though you all have helped spread the Mik x Fei love into 7 languages and I have not updated my sidebars or thank you enough. I promise I will do that as soon as I can.
FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KNOW, THERE WAS A FEI BIRTHDAY FIC CONTEST LAST MONTH AND THE POLL IS UP RIGHT NOW UNTIL THIS SUNDAY AFTERNOON FOR YOU TO VOTE. I AM NOT SEEING A LOT OF FEI FANS VOTING. IF YOU'RE AROUND PLEASE MAKE THE DEADLINE AND VOTE. SHOW YOUR LOVE FOR FEI OR ELSE WE MAY NEVER GET TO SEE HIM AGAIN. PLEASE TAKE THE TIME AND SHOW THE WORLD WE ARE STILL HERE. YOU DON'T HAVE TO VOTE FOR ME, JUST VOTE (OR VOTE FOR MIKHAIL XD). THE POST IS HERE: http://yamane-ayano.livejournal.com/2397011.html. THANK YOU GIRLS.