[fic] Viewfinder: AU: Therapy: Ch 14
Title: Viewfinder: AU: Therapy: Chapter 14
Rating: R
All warnings (spoiler and otherwise), plus notes can be found with Chapter 1.
Notes: I just realized that this was the last day of Asami month at club_sion. How very appropriate that the story has reached this chapter today.
Previous chapters:
Prologue/Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Interlude, Ch 10, Ch 11, Sidestory: Crime and Punishment, Ch 12, Ch 13
Chapter 14:
Asami sat at his desk, going over the financial records from his latest acquisition, fingers punching at his calculator. Why the hell won't the numbers add up? He hit the enter key too hard and it stuck. He tossed the pages aside, and threw the calculator in the trash.
Why the fuck hasn't Hamada called? It's been two weeks. He should have called an hour ago. He tore the cellophane off yet another pack of cigarettes, ripped the box open, and lit one. Cigarette in mouth, he grabbed the cell phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial 4.
"We're sorry. Hamada-sensei is out of the office this week. If this is an emergency -"
Asami slowly rose from his chair. He placed the crushed phone on the desk and put his spare in his pocket. Why hadn't his men notified him? They had to have known. Betrayal was the only answer he could come up with.
"Fujimoto! I want Maeda in here now!"
Asami reached inside his jacket and smoothly pulled his 9mm out. He snapped off the safety and checked to make sure there was a round in the chamber, then stepped swiftly to the side of the door.
When Maeda walked in, Asami slammed the door, Maeda against it, and pressed the barrel of the gun against his lieutenant's forehead and his other arm against his throat. Maeda froze.
"Were you aware that Hamada was gone this week?"
"Yes, Asami-sama."
"Why didn't you inform me?"
Maeda swallowed. "For your own protection, Asami-sama."
The answer took Asami aback. "Explain." The gun didn't budge.
Maeda kept his eyes lowered. "You've been too volatile the last few weeks, doing more dangerous and erratic things. We were afraid -"
"We? Afraid?" Asami's voice was a dangerous purr. "You and others? Who else is in this little conspiracy? You've been deciding which information to feed me? You think yourselves more capable of making decisions than I am, do you?" First Akihito, then Hamada, then my own men. Who do they think they are? Who do they think I am? Asami's free hand slid over to encircle Maeda's neck and he crushed him against the door.
"I wonder if you've been withholding other things as well." Maeda's eyes shifted, and Asami's eyes narrowed. He shoved the gun harder against the man's forehead and his fingers tightened around his windpipe.
"I don’t like that look of yours, Maeda. What else have you been withholding? Business details? What?"
"No! No boss! Nothing like that." Maeda's voice was a croak. "Just about the boy. We fed you harmless stuff. About Takaba-san."
The room faded from view. All he saw was the gun and the head of the man in front of him. Maeda seemed to be speaking in slow motion. What had happened to Akihito? The gun began vibrating against Maeda's head, and his eyes widened in fear.
"Asami-sama! Let me talk! Let me explain! We can't afford a war right now. All the syndicates in Tokyo are ready to take us down! You're going nuts over this kid!"
Asami didn't answer. He just pushed harder on the gun, the barrel cutting skin. What had happened to Akihito?
Maeda knew better than to complain. He knew that at the wrong word he'd die.
Asami's eyes were boring into his head with as much pressure as the gun. "What have you been keeping from me about Akihito?"
Maeda swallowed. "We got some new information about Takaba-san. Last week."
Last week. A Whole Fucking Week Ago. "Go on."
"It seems he has moved into a house."
How could he afford that? Unless...
The gun started vibrating again. Blood ran down Maeda's forehead. "Who is he living with?"
Asami knew before Maeda spoke, but he had to hear it. Asami's voice was a growl of rage. "Who owns the house?"
Maeda closed his eyes. "Asami-sama. It's Liu Feilong."
Feilong. Asami closed his eyes against the spinning room. Akihito. His arms dropped to his sides. Feilong and Akihito? His lungs kept trying to draw more air in. It couldn't be. It made no sense. Akihito couldn't want to be there.
"Asami-sama?" Asami opened his eyes to see Maeda on the floor before him, head bowed in apology. The sight made him sick. His voice came out as a harsh rasp he didn't recognize.
"Get out. Get out you disgusting piece of trash. Get out of Tokyo if you want to live. Get out of Japan if you don’t want to live crippled."
Maeda ran.
Asami stared after him, paralyzed in his rage. He should have killed him. He should have blown his fucking head off. What the hell was wrong with him? He looked down at the gun in his hand willing it to move.
With a roar of rage he wrenched himself from the trap his mind was weaving. He raised his gun and emptied it into the plate glass window behind his desk. Shards of glass flew, coating his floor and desk with diamond-like particles, reflecting pieces of him back.
Blood dripped from his cheek. He replaced his empty clip.
"Fujimoto! I want the car. Now!"
**
Asami's limo stopped in front of the very upscale home. They'd been allowed past the gate after Feilong's guards had removed all their weapons. One guard had smiled and said he could keep his cell phone though. That guard wouldn't be speaking for months. Not with his broken jaw wired shut.
Asami seethed. He hadn't brought the men to win a gunfight because he had no idea who he could trust. He had to be careful. He had to take Takaba back and leave. Retribution would come later, for all of them, when Takaba was safe.
A maid was waiting at the front door and let him into the house, then led him to a sitting room. He froze at the sight awaiting him. Feilong and Takaba were curled into one another on an ugly couch, sharing what looked like a passionate kiss, a book forgotten between them. And Takaba looked more than willing.
He couldn't be...
Takaba would never...
All the times I've protected him...
His hands curled into fists to keep himself from ripping the two of them apart, the way he was ripping apart inside.
He knew it had been staged to provoke him, knew they realized just when he'd get there. But the fact that they flaunted it on purpose made his head throb and his chest ache.
Akihito?
The cut on his cheek was open again. He felt the blood dripping. He dragged the sleeve of his jacket across it, his eyes never leaving the couple. His anger was demanding release.
Not now. It's not the time. Do you want him to die in the middle of it? First get him out. First make sure he's safe. Then. Then....
Yes. He had to get Takaba out of here, where it was safe, away from Feilong's power. There were too many of Feilong's men around. Now wasn't the time. Besides, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd provoked him.
He had to project some cool. He'd been in worse situations than this. He made his breathing slow. He loosened his fists and walked into the room. He fell back on cutting with words alone, hurting the one who was hurting him.
"This is new for you Takaba. Since you always said he'd be the last man on earth that you'd touch, am I to assume you've already made your way through the rest of them? I know you were playing the slut, but this is taking it a little too far, isn't it?"
Asami moved to a chair across from them and sat, his hands fumbling at a cigarette.
Takaba and Fei finished their kiss, nuzzled one another, and looked at Asami. Takaba looked like he'd been swimming underwater and was coming up for air for the first time in ages. "What did you say, Asami-san?"
A spear of pain drove through his chest. His teeth ground through his cigarette. He spit it out and started to light another, but noticed his hand shaking, and simply held it in his lap. His mouth imitated a smile.
"You will come home with me right now."
Takaba's eyes widened. He looked at Fei, then back at Asami. "Excuse me? I don't believe I heard that correctly."
"Go and pack your things. You're coming home with me."
Takaba laughed. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Well of course I don't mean you have to pack everything at once. Just pack what you need for a couple of days, then I'll have my men take care of the rest." When they kill Feilong and his men. Asami was pleased with how reasonable he was being.
"No."
No? NO?
The cigarette snapped in half between his clenched fingers as he rose to his feet. "That was not a request. You will be coming home with me. From now on you will be living with me. You will not be seeing Hamada again. You will not be seeing Feilong again."
Takaba's face was red. "You will not be staying in this house a minute longer! What the hell do you think I am? A possession? Guess what? I'm not. I'm a person. And you can't own a person Asami, no matter how much you want to. No matter how much you want to control me, you can't. If you want me to do something, you have to learn to ask the way normal people do. If you want something to own and fuck, go buy a rubber doll. If you want someone to have a real relationship with, then learn to act like a normal human being. Otherwise you're nothing to me. Do you understand me? Nothing!"
Nothing.
Takaba words reverberated in his head, reaching past crumbling walls, down past his control, past hidden thoughts, past buried emotion, through the murk of his memories, until it rammed straight into his foundation.
And then pulled it out from under him.
Words poured out, unstoppable. "Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to Asami Ryuichi like that? No one talks to me like that and lives! I spent years getting to where I am now, fighting for the respect of every hood in the streets, clawing my way to the top, being the best at whatever I set out to do, being the strongest, just so NO ONE could ever look down on me and talk to me that way again. And you, you insignificant little flea, just because I enjoy chasing you and fucking you until you cry, you think that gives you some sort of hold over me that allows you to speak to me that way and demand things of me? You're nothing! Nothing! You're nothing. But me, I'm something. I made something of myself. I matter now. I matter. I..."
He gasped, staunching the flow.
He found himself standing in the middle of the room, no idea how he'd gotten there, alone, breathing heavily, feeling lost, shaking. He looked at his hands. Why are they clean?
What was happening? Waves of anguish were pouring through him. What had he said? My God, he'd said that. That was buried. Forgotten. He hadn't slipped up like this in years.
Where are all these feelings coming from? He tried shoving them back, but they wouldn't fit anymore. He looked around trying to find answers, still the wrong place to be seeking them.
Takaba stood and took a step towards him, hesitating. "Asami? ... Ryuichi?"
Asami focused on him for a second. Takaba. Takaba, with Feilong. Loving Feilong. He knew love when he saw it. Why did it matter? What is this pain? Everything was whirling through his head. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't breathe, couldn't function. He was too vulnerable. He spun around and stumbled from the room.
Then he was in the car, no idea how he'd got there.
"Where should I take you Asami-sama?"
Asami was still shaking. He tried to pull his thoughts together. "Maybe to the beach." The laugh was forced.
"I'm sorry, sir? Where?"
Where? He closed his eyes in resignation. He knew where he had to go.
"Start driving towards the highway. I'll give you directions."
--
The sun was low in the sky when they pulled up in front of a small apartment building, empty and old. Asami owned it, but he'd never been back since that day. It was just something he'd bought then set aside, locking it away so it never had to be dealt with again. It didn't look all that different. It had been rundown then. No one lived in it now.
He walked up the stairs, footsteps echoing in the silence, and made his way down to the familiar apartment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. He still had it after all these years. It was always on his keychain. It never left him. The lock was rusty, but he made the key work and the door swung open. He hesitated at the door, then stepped in.
"I'm home!"
"Get the hell in here and close the door. You're letting all the heat out. What's wrong with you?"
He remembered the heavy hand knocking him into the wall.
"But Mom, I'm still hungry. Can't I have more?"
"They feed you enough at school. You can have some of this when you start earning money too. Is that what you want? To earn money like Mom does? I could probably get some good money for you."
He remembered the emptiness inside him.
"Mom stop! Mom? Please. I love you!"
"You love me? What a laugh. That might matter if you were somebody, but you're nobody. You're nothing, as worthless as all the other men around here. I can't live like this anymore."
He remembered her blood, on the floor, on the knife, on him.
And he finally remembered why, why he'd gone through all of this, so that someday his love would matter. He realized that for all the money he earned, for all the power he had, he still didn't have anyone who wanted to hear him say that he loved them. He didn't even know if he could say it anymore. He was finally somebody and it still didn't matter.
Takaba.
He might have been able to say it to him. Takaba might have cared. But he'd ruined any chance of that happening.
Akihito...
The dust at his feet splattered with wet drops that fell more and more quickly as thirty-five years of pain came pouring out. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself, silent in his agony. His breaths came in gasps, his body too tense to allow him air. His chest felt like a fist had been driven through it. The pain was excruciating as he fought for control. But it became too much for even him, and he finally surrendered and let the grief take him back.
The loneliness. Standing among the children at school, among them but not a part. Clothes dingy, never any food but what the school would provide. Head held high despite it, daring anyone to say anything.
The hatred. Watching the men his mother brought home. Seeing them treat her like dirt. Her accepting it for the money. Some of them watched him like that too, some tried more. He'd wanted to kill at an early age.
The despair. Watching his mother slide into darkness. Seeing her drink more and more. Watching her drugs of choice get harder and harder. Keeping the knives away if he could. But one day missing one. Drugs and weapons and death. They would never control him. He would control them.
The pain. Sitting in the hospital, the caseworker assigned to him talking to her boyfriend. Looking for answers, looking for comfort, finding none. Sneaking into his mother's room, seeing death first hand. Knowing it was his fault. Knowing he could have prevented it. Vowing to become strong enough so that he'd never fail anyone again.
The emptiness. Standing by her grave. Knowing she wasn't there. Knowing no one was there for him but himself. Shutting it all away. Numb. Feeling nothing but purpose. He had something to accomplish, and he was better off not feeling anything until it was done.
He remembered it all, crying for the first time since he saw her use the knife. He cried for his mother, and for himself, tears washing away the dust on the floor as they washed the pain from his soul.
And so ever so slowly as it poured from him, the pain lessened until finally, finally, he felt empty of it. He felt clean. He shuddered and took a breath, then sat back against the wall.
He sat there quietly as the sun was going down, just resting. Thinking. He knew it was time. He'd achieved his purpose and it was less rewarding than he'd thought it would be. He was nothing if not practical. It was time for a change. Time to clear away the remnants of the fortress he'd built. Time to let himself feel again. To feel what had been pushing at the walls of his heart since he'd met Akihito, even if it was too late.
Akihito... He let the newly-freed emotions run across the raw places inside him, getting used to the feeling again, wondering if he should control it, but too tired to bother.
Instead he watched the day's last sunlight move across the wall, making the dust sparkle.
It sparkled like Akihito's eyes used to. Akihito carried his own sunshine. But his eyes when turned to Asami had dimmed.
That brought a fresh pain. He'd wanted to be strong for someone. Important to someone. Protection for someone. He'd wanted to love someone and have it mean something.
Instead he'd used his strength to overpower. His control to force. He had shut his own emotions away and pushed away the only true feelings that anyone had ever had for him. Instead of protecting Akihito, Akihito had needed protection from him. The taste of his failure was bitter. But his loss was worse. He had a gaping hole inside himself now, with nothing to fill it. Nothing....
He shook his head, clearing it. He wasn't going to let this happen again. He had to make another chance for himself. There had to be something left inside Akihito, something that would respond to him.
But should he?
For the first time in decades he considered an unselfish act. He'd seen the love between the two men. The pain of it had shattered all his walls. Could he even offer Akihito love?
And what of Feilong? Another man he'd wronged. Another man he could have cared for. Should have cared for. Blood on his hands there, too. He closed his eyes against the memory and sighed.
He'd never hated Feilong. He just hated what he did to Akihito. But if all that had changed between them, maybe they were better off together. Without him.
A small laugh escaped him at the thought. As if he'd ever allow that.
He couldn't give Akihito up. Not that easily. Not without making an effort. He was still selfish enough that he'd fight like hell for what he wanted. They'd work something out.
The light had dimmed by now. He felt so very tired.
He heard his men, arguing softly outside the door, wondering if he was alright. He snorted. How could he tell them the answer when he wasn't sure himself? God, there's another mess I made that has to be cleaned up. I wonder if Maeda's left the country yet? I owe him. He pulled out his cell phone and placed a call to Fujimoto, who assured him Maeda would be stopped. He'd talk to the man personally tomorrow.
He slowly got to his feet and brushed his clothes off. Armani never looked so trashy. For once he didn't give a fuck. He stopped at the doorway and looked back one last time.
"Goodbye Mom. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, but I did love you. And you know, that would have been worth everything if you hadn't pushed it away."
He turned around and left, the door swinging on its hinges, the key in the lock reflecting the fading sky.
Tomorrow he was going to start plans to demolish the place and build anew.
**
Takaba stood frozen in the middle of the living room, his heart torn in two by what had just happened with Asami. He turned helplessly to Fei, who walked over, folded him into his arms and spoke. "I think the plan worked better than we expected."
Takaba started to cry. "Fei, he was so hurt. I didn't want to hurt him."
"Akihito, you had to know that this would happen. We were trying to break him down. All that control had to be there for a reason, and you know the reason couldn't be a good one."
"God, what will he do now? He's all alone." Takaba looked up at Fei. "I can't leave him alone."
Fei looked down and wiped the tears away. "You realize if he really didn't break and you do return, you'll have a terrible time getting away from him. He may never see you as a person. And you may never get this chance again. We may never."
Takaba pulled away and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. I have to go and take that chance. I have to."
Fei smiled sadly. "I understand." He walked over and kissed Takaba gently.
"Fei…"
"Go on. You've been waiting for the chance for a while now. Go."
With one last regretful look, Takaba ran through the door and up the stairs.
**
Fei closed the door and stood alone in the room for a minute.
The last few days…
He walked over to the ugly couch and lay down, then curled up on his side. He would get up and act normal later.
**
Asami had his driver drop him off at the apartment. He just didn't feel like doing anything tonight. As he rode up in the elevator, he thought that maybe he didn't like this place anymore. Maybe he should buy a house. Someplace out of the city, where it was green.
He walked past the guard by his door and opened it. He stepped in and saw the shoes. He closed the door and paused, staring at them, curious, his thoughts too detached to make sense of them. Who would leave shoes? His mind wouldn't come up with an answer.
He toed off his own shoes and cautiously walked into the living room. It was empty. He stopped by the kitchen. Empty. Poked his head into the bathroom. No one there either. Then paused outside the bedroom. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Akihito was hanging clothes in his closet. Akihito's clothes.
He quietly stepped into the room and walked up behind him and stared. He pointed his finger and hesitantly poked Akihito's head. Akihito jumped and spun. "Goddammit Asami! What the hell was that for!?"
Akihito stared at him breathing heavily. Akihito was getting blurry.
"Asami? Are you alright?"
They met in a kiss. Not a kiss about power, or control, or force. It was a gentle kiss that they shared and gave themselves to, each tasting the other as if for the first time. As they fell to the bed, they found the desire was as strong as ever, but this time it was spent with joy. There was some fumbling, because they weren't sure how to make love, both being new to it, but when that happened they laughed and moved on to try something new. There were even words between them, spoken softly, full of meaning that was also seen in their glances and touches. And there were a few tears, not brought on by harshness, but because they always come with growth. And when their passion was finally spent, and they rested in each other's arms, they knew that they'd finally come home.
Illustration for Chapter 14
by mtarashidango
Chapter 15
Rating: R
All warnings (spoiler and otherwise), plus notes can be found with Chapter 1.
Notes: I just realized that this was the last day of Asami month at club_sion. How very appropriate that the story has reached this chapter today.
Previous chapters:
Prologue/Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Interlude, Ch 10, Ch 11, Sidestory: Crime and Punishment, Ch 12, Ch 13
Chapter 14:
Asami sat at his desk, going over the financial records from his latest acquisition, fingers punching at his calculator. Why the hell won't the numbers add up? He hit the enter key too hard and it stuck. He tossed the pages aside, and threw the calculator in the trash.
Why the fuck hasn't Hamada called? It's been two weeks. He should have called an hour ago. He tore the cellophane off yet another pack of cigarettes, ripped the box open, and lit one. Cigarette in mouth, he grabbed the cell phone out of his pocket and hit speed dial 4.
"We're sorry. Hamada-sensei is out of the office this week. If this is an emergency -"
Asami slowly rose from his chair. He placed the crushed phone on the desk and put his spare in his pocket. Why hadn't his men notified him? They had to have known. Betrayal was the only answer he could come up with.
"Fujimoto! I want Maeda in here now!"
Asami reached inside his jacket and smoothly pulled his 9mm out. He snapped off the safety and checked to make sure there was a round in the chamber, then stepped swiftly to the side of the door.
When Maeda walked in, Asami slammed the door, Maeda against it, and pressed the barrel of the gun against his lieutenant's forehead and his other arm against his throat. Maeda froze.
"Were you aware that Hamada was gone this week?"
"Yes, Asami-sama."
"Why didn't you inform me?"
Maeda swallowed. "For your own protection, Asami-sama."
The answer took Asami aback. "Explain." The gun didn't budge.
Maeda kept his eyes lowered. "You've been too volatile the last few weeks, doing more dangerous and erratic things. We were afraid -"
"We? Afraid?" Asami's voice was a dangerous purr. "You and others? Who else is in this little conspiracy? You've been deciding which information to feed me? You think yourselves more capable of making decisions than I am, do you?" First Akihito, then Hamada, then my own men. Who do they think they are? Who do they think I am? Asami's free hand slid over to encircle Maeda's neck and he crushed him against the door.
"I wonder if you've been withholding other things as well." Maeda's eyes shifted, and Asami's eyes narrowed. He shoved the gun harder against the man's forehead and his fingers tightened around his windpipe.
"I don’t like that look of yours, Maeda. What else have you been withholding? Business details? What?"
"No! No boss! Nothing like that." Maeda's voice was a croak. "Just about the boy. We fed you harmless stuff. About Takaba-san."
The room faded from view. All he saw was the gun and the head of the man in front of him. Maeda seemed to be speaking in slow motion. What had happened to Akihito? The gun began vibrating against Maeda's head, and his eyes widened in fear.
"Asami-sama! Let me talk! Let me explain! We can't afford a war right now. All the syndicates in Tokyo are ready to take us down! You're going nuts over this kid!"
Asami didn't answer. He just pushed harder on the gun, the barrel cutting skin. What had happened to Akihito?
Maeda knew better than to complain. He knew that at the wrong word he'd die.
Asami's eyes were boring into his head with as much pressure as the gun. "What have you been keeping from me about Akihito?"
Maeda swallowed. "We got some new information about Takaba-san. Last week."
Last week. A Whole Fucking Week Ago. "Go on."
"It seems he has moved into a house."
How could he afford that? Unless...
The gun started vibrating again. Blood ran down Maeda's forehead. "Who is he living with?"
Asami knew before Maeda spoke, but he had to hear it. Asami's voice was a growl of rage. "Who owns the house?"
Maeda closed his eyes. "Asami-sama. It's Liu Feilong."
Feilong. Asami closed his eyes against the spinning room. Akihito. His arms dropped to his sides. Feilong and Akihito? His lungs kept trying to draw more air in. It couldn't be. It made no sense. Akihito couldn't want to be there.
"Asami-sama?" Asami opened his eyes to see Maeda on the floor before him, head bowed in apology. The sight made him sick. His voice came out as a harsh rasp he didn't recognize.
"Get out. Get out you disgusting piece of trash. Get out of Tokyo if you want to live. Get out of Japan if you don’t want to live crippled."
Maeda ran.
Asami stared after him, paralyzed in his rage. He should have killed him. He should have blown his fucking head off. What the hell was wrong with him? He looked down at the gun in his hand willing it to move.
With a roar of rage he wrenched himself from the trap his mind was weaving. He raised his gun and emptied it into the plate glass window behind his desk. Shards of glass flew, coating his floor and desk with diamond-like particles, reflecting pieces of him back.
Blood dripped from his cheek. He replaced his empty clip.
"Fujimoto! I want the car. Now!"
**
Asami's limo stopped in front of the very upscale home. They'd been allowed past the gate after Feilong's guards had removed all their weapons. One guard had smiled and said he could keep his cell phone though. That guard wouldn't be speaking for months. Not with his broken jaw wired shut.
Asami seethed. He hadn't brought the men to win a gunfight because he had no idea who he could trust. He had to be careful. He had to take Takaba back and leave. Retribution would come later, for all of them, when Takaba was safe.
A maid was waiting at the front door and let him into the house, then led him to a sitting room. He froze at the sight awaiting him. Feilong and Takaba were curled into one another on an ugly couch, sharing what looked like a passionate kiss, a book forgotten between them. And Takaba looked more than willing.
He couldn't be...
Takaba would never...
All the times I've protected him...
His hands curled into fists to keep himself from ripping the two of them apart, the way he was ripping apart inside.
He knew it had been staged to provoke him, knew they realized just when he'd get there. But the fact that they flaunted it on purpose made his head throb and his chest ache.
Akihito?
The cut on his cheek was open again. He felt the blood dripping. He dragged the sleeve of his jacket across it, his eyes never leaving the couple. His anger was demanding release.
Not now. It's not the time. Do you want him to die in the middle of it? First get him out. First make sure he's safe. Then. Then....
Yes. He had to get Takaba out of here, where it was safe, away from Feilong's power. There were too many of Feilong's men around. Now wasn't the time. Besides, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd provoked him.
He had to project some cool. He'd been in worse situations than this. He made his breathing slow. He loosened his fists and walked into the room. He fell back on cutting with words alone, hurting the one who was hurting him.
"This is new for you Takaba. Since you always said he'd be the last man on earth that you'd touch, am I to assume you've already made your way through the rest of them? I know you were playing the slut, but this is taking it a little too far, isn't it?"
Asami moved to a chair across from them and sat, his hands fumbling at a cigarette.
Takaba and Fei finished their kiss, nuzzled one another, and looked at Asami. Takaba looked like he'd been swimming underwater and was coming up for air for the first time in ages. "What did you say, Asami-san?"
A spear of pain drove through his chest. His teeth ground through his cigarette. He spit it out and started to light another, but noticed his hand shaking, and simply held it in his lap. His mouth imitated a smile.
"You will come home with me right now."
Takaba's eyes widened. He looked at Fei, then back at Asami. "Excuse me? I don't believe I heard that correctly."
"Go and pack your things. You're coming home with me."
Takaba laughed. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Well of course I don't mean you have to pack everything at once. Just pack what you need for a couple of days, then I'll have my men take care of the rest." When they kill Feilong and his men. Asami was pleased with how reasonable he was being.
"No."
No? NO?
The cigarette snapped in half between his clenched fingers as he rose to his feet. "That was not a request. You will be coming home with me. From now on you will be living with me. You will not be seeing Hamada again. You will not be seeing Feilong again."
Takaba's face was red. "You will not be staying in this house a minute longer! What the hell do you think I am? A possession? Guess what? I'm not. I'm a person. And you can't own a person Asami, no matter how much you want to. No matter how much you want to control me, you can't. If you want me to do something, you have to learn to ask the way normal people do. If you want something to own and fuck, go buy a rubber doll. If you want someone to have a real relationship with, then learn to act like a normal human being. Otherwise you're nothing to me. Do you understand me? Nothing!"
Nothing.
Takaba words reverberated in his head, reaching past crumbling walls, down past his control, past hidden thoughts, past buried emotion, through the murk of his memories, until it rammed straight into his foundation.
And then pulled it out from under him.
Words poured out, unstoppable. "Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to Asami Ryuichi like that? No one talks to me like that and lives! I spent years getting to where I am now, fighting for the respect of every hood in the streets, clawing my way to the top, being the best at whatever I set out to do, being the strongest, just so NO ONE could ever look down on me and talk to me that way again. And you, you insignificant little flea, just because I enjoy chasing you and fucking you until you cry, you think that gives you some sort of hold over me that allows you to speak to me that way and demand things of me? You're nothing! Nothing! You're nothing. But me, I'm something. I made something of myself. I matter now. I matter. I..."
He gasped, staunching the flow.
He found himself standing in the middle of the room, no idea how he'd gotten there, alone, breathing heavily, feeling lost, shaking. He looked at his hands. Why are they clean?
What was happening? Waves of anguish were pouring through him. What had he said? My God, he'd said that. That was buried. Forgotten. He hadn't slipped up like this in years.
Where are all these feelings coming from? He tried shoving them back, but they wouldn't fit anymore. He looked around trying to find answers, still the wrong place to be seeking them.
Takaba stood and took a step towards him, hesitating. "Asami? ... Ryuichi?"
Asami focused on him for a second. Takaba. Takaba, with Feilong. Loving Feilong. He knew love when he saw it. Why did it matter? What is this pain? Everything was whirling through his head. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't breathe, couldn't function. He was too vulnerable. He spun around and stumbled from the room.
Then he was in the car, no idea how he'd got there.
"Where should I take you Asami-sama?"
Asami was still shaking. He tried to pull his thoughts together. "Maybe to the beach." The laugh was forced.
"I'm sorry, sir? Where?"
Where? He closed his eyes in resignation. He knew where he had to go.
"Start driving towards the highway. I'll give you directions."
--
The sun was low in the sky when they pulled up in front of a small apartment building, empty and old. Asami owned it, but he'd never been back since that day. It was just something he'd bought then set aside, locking it away so it never had to be dealt with again. It didn't look all that different. It had been rundown then. No one lived in it now.
He walked up the stairs, footsteps echoing in the silence, and made his way down to the familiar apartment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. He still had it after all these years. It was always on his keychain. It never left him. The lock was rusty, but he made the key work and the door swung open. He hesitated at the door, then stepped in.
"I'm home!"
"Get the hell in here and close the door. You're letting all the heat out. What's wrong with you?"
He remembered the heavy hand knocking him into the wall.
"But Mom, I'm still hungry. Can't I have more?"
"They feed you enough at school. You can have some of this when you start earning money too. Is that what you want? To earn money like Mom does? I could probably get some good money for you."
He remembered the emptiness inside him.
"Mom stop! Mom? Please. I love you!"
"You love me? What a laugh. That might matter if you were somebody, but you're nobody. You're nothing, as worthless as all the other men around here. I can't live like this anymore."
He remembered her blood, on the floor, on the knife, on him.
And he finally remembered why, why he'd gone through all of this, so that someday his love would matter. He realized that for all the money he earned, for all the power he had, he still didn't have anyone who wanted to hear him say that he loved them. He didn't even know if he could say it anymore. He was finally somebody and it still didn't matter.
Takaba.
He might have been able to say it to him. Takaba might have cared. But he'd ruined any chance of that happening.
Akihito...
The dust at his feet splattered with wet drops that fell more and more quickly as thirty-five years of pain came pouring out. He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself, silent in his agony. His breaths came in gasps, his body too tense to allow him air. His chest felt like a fist had been driven through it. The pain was excruciating as he fought for control. But it became too much for even him, and he finally surrendered and let the grief take him back.
The loneliness. Standing among the children at school, among them but not a part. Clothes dingy, never any food but what the school would provide. Head held high despite it, daring anyone to say anything.
The hatred. Watching the men his mother brought home. Seeing them treat her like dirt. Her accepting it for the money. Some of them watched him like that too, some tried more. He'd wanted to kill at an early age.
The despair. Watching his mother slide into darkness. Seeing her drink more and more. Watching her drugs of choice get harder and harder. Keeping the knives away if he could. But one day missing one. Drugs and weapons and death. They would never control him. He would control them.
The pain. Sitting in the hospital, the caseworker assigned to him talking to her boyfriend. Looking for answers, looking for comfort, finding none. Sneaking into his mother's room, seeing death first hand. Knowing it was his fault. Knowing he could have prevented it. Vowing to become strong enough so that he'd never fail anyone again.
The emptiness. Standing by her grave. Knowing she wasn't there. Knowing no one was there for him but himself. Shutting it all away. Numb. Feeling nothing but purpose. He had something to accomplish, and he was better off not feeling anything until it was done.
He remembered it all, crying for the first time since he saw her use the knife. He cried for his mother, and for himself, tears washing away the dust on the floor as they washed the pain from his soul.
And so ever so slowly as it poured from him, the pain lessened until finally, finally, he felt empty of it. He felt clean. He shuddered and took a breath, then sat back against the wall.
He sat there quietly as the sun was going down, just resting. Thinking. He knew it was time. He'd achieved his purpose and it was less rewarding than he'd thought it would be. He was nothing if not practical. It was time for a change. Time to clear away the remnants of the fortress he'd built. Time to let himself feel again. To feel what had been pushing at the walls of his heart since he'd met Akihito, even if it was too late.
Akihito... He let the newly-freed emotions run across the raw places inside him, getting used to the feeling again, wondering if he should control it, but too tired to bother.
Instead he watched the day's last sunlight move across the wall, making the dust sparkle.
It sparkled like Akihito's eyes used to. Akihito carried his own sunshine. But his eyes when turned to Asami had dimmed.
That brought a fresh pain. He'd wanted to be strong for someone. Important to someone. Protection for someone. He'd wanted to love someone and have it mean something.
Instead he'd used his strength to overpower. His control to force. He had shut his own emotions away and pushed away the only true feelings that anyone had ever had for him. Instead of protecting Akihito, Akihito had needed protection from him. The taste of his failure was bitter. But his loss was worse. He had a gaping hole inside himself now, with nothing to fill it. Nothing....
He shook his head, clearing it. He wasn't going to let this happen again. He had to make another chance for himself. There had to be something left inside Akihito, something that would respond to him.
But should he?
For the first time in decades he considered an unselfish act. He'd seen the love between the two men. The pain of it had shattered all his walls. Could he even offer Akihito love?
And what of Feilong? Another man he'd wronged. Another man he could have cared for. Should have cared for. Blood on his hands there, too. He closed his eyes against the memory and sighed.
He'd never hated Feilong. He just hated what he did to Akihito. But if all that had changed between them, maybe they were better off together. Without him.
A small laugh escaped him at the thought. As if he'd ever allow that.
He couldn't give Akihito up. Not that easily. Not without making an effort. He was still selfish enough that he'd fight like hell for what he wanted. They'd work something out.
The light had dimmed by now. He felt so very tired.
He heard his men, arguing softly outside the door, wondering if he was alright. He snorted. How could he tell them the answer when he wasn't sure himself? God, there's another mess I made that has to be cleaned up. I wonder if Maeda's left the country yet? I owe him. He pulled out his cell phone and placed a call to Fujimoto, who assured him Maeda would be stopped. He'd talk to the man personally tomorrow.
He slowly got to his feet and brushed his clothes off. Armani never looked so trashy. For once he didn't give a fuck. He stopped at the doorway and looked back one last time.
"Goodbye Mom. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, but I did love you. And you know, that would have been worth everything if you hadn't pushed it away."
He turned around and left, the door swinging on its hinges, the key in the lock reflecting the fading sky.
Tomorrow he was going to start plans to demolish the place and build anew.
**
Takaba stood frozen in the middle of the living room, his heart torn in two by what had just happened with Asami. He turned helplessly to Fei, who walked over, folded him into his arms and spoke. "I think the plan worked better than we expected."
Takaba started to cry. "Fei, he was so hurt. I didn't want to hurt him."
"Akihito, you had to know that this would happen. We were trying to break him down. All that control had to be there for a reason, and you know the reason couldn't be a good one."
"God, what will he do now? He's all alone." Takaba looked up at Fei. "I can't leave him alone."
Fei looked down and wiped the tears away. "You realize if he really didn't break and you do return, you'll have a terrible time getting away from him. He may never see you as a person. And you may never get this chance again. We may never."
Takaba pulled away and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. I have to go and take that chance. I have to."
Fei smiled sadly. "I understand." He walked over and kissed Takaba gently.
"Fei…"
"Go on. You've been waiting for the chance for a while now. Go."
With one last regretful look, Takaba ran through the door and up the stairs.
**
Fei closed the door and stood alone in the room for a minute.
The last few days…
He walked over to the ugly couch and lay down, then curled up on his side. He would get up and act normal later.
**
Asami had his driver drop him off at the apartment. He just didn't feel like doing anything tonight. As he rode up in the elevator, he thought that maybe he didn't like this place anymore. Maybe he should buy a house. Someplace out of the city, where it was green.
He walked past the guard by his door and opened it. He stepped in and saw the shoes. He closed the door and paused, staring at them, curious, his thoughts too detached to make sense of them. Who would leave shoes? His mind wouldn't come up with an answer.
He toed off his own shoes and cautiously walked into the living room. It was empty. He stopped by the kitchen. Empty. Poked his head into the bathroom. No one there either. Then paused outside the bedroom. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Akihito was hanging clothes in his closet. Akihito's clothes.
He quietly stepped into the room and walked up behind him and stared. He pointed his finger and hesitantly poked Akihito's head. Akihito jumped and spun. "Goddammit Asami! What the hell was that for!?"
Akihito stared at him breathing heavily. Akihito was getting blurry.
"Asami? Are you alright?"
They met in a kiss. Not a kiss about power, or control, or force. It was a gentle kiss that they shared and gave themselves to, each tasting the other as if for the first time. As they fell to the bed, they found the desire was as strong as ever, but this time it was spent with joy. There was some fumbling, because they weren't sure how to make love, both being new to it, but when that happened they laughed and moved on to try something new. There were even words between them, spoken softly, full of meaning that was also seen in their glances and touches. And there were a few tears, not brought on by harshness, but because they always come with growth. And when their passion was finally spent, and they rested in each other's arms, they knew that they'd finally come home.
Illustration for Chapter 14
by mtarashidango
Chapter 15