Future Dream
Title - Future Dream
Author - unwritten_ideas
Rating - PG
Word Count - 5,670
Pairing - Mutoi Ayami x Shiki Takashi
Characters - Mutoi Ayami, Shiki Takashi, Kotou Yuiko
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - Returns, reunions and revelations
Notes - contains spoilers for the entire season of Akumu-chan.
Follows on immediately from the end of the last episode.
Apologies for any liberties taken with canon.
Ayami couldn’t believe her eyes. It certainly looked like him - the hair was as messy, the eyes as piercing and the smile as lazy yet confident as it ever had been, but she couldn’t quite believe it. His sudden appearance only a few feet away from where she stood next to Yuiko felt like she was watching someone else’s dream. She tried to find a footing in a world that didn’t quite make sense anymore and grabbed hold of what felt familiar.
“Why are you here?!” Ayami said, disbelief mixing with misplaced and untrue anger, “I thought you were dead!”
Shiki’s smile faltered slightly but he pulled it back into place. “”Nice to see you too, Ayami.” He turned his attention to Ayami’s young companion and his smile widened. “You too, young lady.”
Yuiko was just as confused as Ayami, but for different reasons. Her mind was still full of the dream she’d had only a few nights prior and she looked at Shiki with new eyes, desperately searching for any family resemblance that would make her dream true. She’d never had a family, well, not a proper one at least. Her grandfather had done his best and she was forever grateful to him but it wasn’t the same as having a mother and father. Parents. Or, at least she thought it wasn’t.
“Ayami-sensei,” Yuiko said, lightly tugging on the sleeve of Ayami’s coat. “My dream!”
Ayami ignored her. “Did you follow us?”
“I wanted to talk with you,” Shiki answered.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you!” Ayami snapped back.
Ayami’s heart may have become more open over the months she had known Yuiko and Shiki, she may have learnt to trust and even to love but there were still defences and walls that hadn’t been completely torn down yet. Shiki’s “death” and the knowledge that it had been to protect her had hurt Ayami more than she had thought possible and she was angry at herself. Angry because she’d let him in… and angry that she hadn’t let him in enough.
“You’re angry and confused,” Shiki said, “I understand that…”
“You have no idea! These last few months since I met you have been…” Ayami couldn’t find the word to finish her sentence and instead resorted back to anger. “I don’t want to talk to you!”
Ayami turned on her heels and quickly walked away. Yuiko ran after her, almost falling over the uneven pavement as she kept turning around to look at both of the adults, as if she was fearful that if she took her eyes of either one of them for just a second they would disappear. Shiki followed too, but at a more leisurely pace. He knew that Ayami’s anger was only superficial and that it was hiding emotions far more complicated and deep than Ayami wanted to acknowledge at that moment.
Yuiko caught up with Ayami and grabbed her arm again. Ayami sighed and rolled her eyes but allowed Yuiko to stop her as she tried to ignore the sound of the slow footsteps that indicated that he had followed them again.
“Shiki-sensei!”, Yuiko called, “I think I had another dream.”
Shiki glanced at Ayami’s averted face for a few seconds before dropping to his knees next to Yuiko, a hand coming to rest on the child’s shoulder. “Before you tell me,” he said softly, “I want to say that I’m sorry if I ever scared you. I was always on your side and trying to protect you, but I made some wrong decisions. I’m sorry.”
Shiki paused and looked up at Ayami. She was still ignoring him, but he could tell she was listening to every word. “I’m sorry to both of you,” he finished.
Yuiko nodded and smiled. “It’s okay. I never felt scared with you, not even when we were on the boat with the scary men.”
Shiki smiled and was glad to see Yuiko return the gesture.
“Hey!” Ayami said, her arms folded across her chest and a stern look on her face as she looked down at the pair of them, “you might be able to placate her with a smile and an apology but I’m not as easy!”
“I didn’t think you were,” Shiki sighed. He squeezed Yuiko’s shoulder lightly before standing and letting go. “I did hope you’d be a little happier to see me though. I’m happy to see you.”
Ayami didn’t seem happy to see him, Yuiko realised. Yuiko was worried. She wanted to know if her dream meant that he was her father, but she could see Ayami driving him away before she had chance to find her answer.
“Ayami-sensei!” Yuiko said loudly, “my dream!”
“Not now, Akumu-chan,” Ayami said dismissively. “I’m still angry at him.”
Shiki glanced between the two and instinctively knew that whatever Yuiko’s dream was, it was a dream that concerned him. He thought that pressing for more information at that moment was a mistake and so decided to make no comment. He could ask for details later. Now, speaking with Ayami was his main concern.
“Can I explain a few things to you?” Shiki asked Ayami. “You can still shout at me if it will make you feel better.”
“I’ve heard your explanation already from Yamasato.”
“I think you should hear it from me,” Shiki stated firmly.
Ayami paused. The longer she was in his presence, the harder it was to hold onto the anger that was protecting her from the other emotions that were raging through her. Those emotions were harder to classify and accept, despite the progress she’d already made, but she knew she couldn’t hide from them forever.
“Okay.” Ayami turned to Yuiko. “Let’s take you home, Akumu-chan. Then, we talk.”
Yuiko protested as Ayami led her out of the temple grounds. “But my dream! Ayami-sensei! Is he…?”
“Not now!” Ayami reiterated firmly. “It was your dreams that started all of this mess! I don’t want to talk about them anymore.”
Shiki followed them out of the grounds and onto the street. The two of them were still arguing but it was with a warmth and familiarity that he had never thought Ayami capable of when he had first met her. She had travelled so far and grown so much as a person and he felt proud that he had, however little, contributed to that growth.
He also knew that no matter what Ayami said, her anger at him was only skin deep. Underneath that anger were the feelings he wanted to reach and he was sure that he would be able to break through and touch them. He had before after all, he could do it again.
*~*~*~
Ayami sat at the table in her apartment. The sounds of Shiki moving around her kitchen as effortlessly and confidently as if it was his own reached her ears but she tried to ignore them, her eyes resolutely fixed to the sparkling clean surface of the table before her.
Shiki was making tea for them both. It had been months since he had last done so and now that Ayami was sitting there as he filled two cups with hot water, it felt like no time at all. But that was wrong, she knew. So much had happened since those days when she would come home from school to a warm apartment, the enticing smells of whatever he was cooking, a soft smile and heartfelt “welcome home” that it was almost another life.
He had betrayed her. But he hadn’t.
He had sold out Akumu-chan. But he hadn’t.
She had hated him. But she hadn’t.
It was hard to believe how far things had gone, and how far things had come.
She was broken from her reverie by the dull thud of a cup being placed before her and the scrape of a chair being pulled back from the table. He was sat across from her now, close enough to touch, but he had never felt so far away. Ayami still couldn’t quite believe it was him.
Ayami felt like she was in a lucid dream that she had lost control of. He had been a regular fixture in those, as either himself or Yumeoji, since she had seen him fall. Their reunions were always happier than this but then again, the Ayami that lived in her dream world was never unsure, never frightened, never hurt and had never cried until she had no tears left. The real Ayami, however, had.
The anger that carried her through the meeting at the temple had long since disappeared. It had been her defence during that impromptu meeting - just like searching for Akumu-chan and devoting her time to the Christmas recital had been her defence against the pain she’d felt at Shiki’s apparent death. When she was busy and distracted, she didn’t feel. Now, every breath Shiki took was a reminder of the pain she’d tried to block out and she could feel her last defences crumbling with every rise of his chest.
He was alive. Ayami didn’t know how to react.
“I mourned you,” she said softly. “I’ve spent the last few weeks believing that you died to save me. I’ve relived that night over and over in my mind and tried to see if there was something else I could have done, another way out, that would have ended things differently.”
“There wasn’t,” he said firmly. “Things had to happen the way they did.”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? You’re here - risen from the dead like something out of Akumu-chan’s nightmares.”
“Would you prefer that I wasn’t here?”
“I’d prefer it if none of this had happened at all!”
The anger was back, but Shiki could hear the quiver in Ayami’s voice. It was forced anger and something he knew he could withstand. “I didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”
“No, nobody did,” Ayami agreed. “How did you survive?”
“Before you confronted me I’d called the police,” Shiki explained. “If half of the police force raids a ship then it attracts the attention of other ships in the area. I was rescued by a fishing ship that had come to see what was happening.”
Ayami stared at him in silence. “You never planned to survive, did you? It was pure luck.”
“I guess it wasn’t my time,” he shrugged.
“But that was a month ago,” Ayami said. “Where have you been since then?”
“In hospital mainly. I did take a dive into ice cold water, after all.”
“You’re okay now?” Ayami asked.
“I’m okay,” he replied.
“Okay then,” Ayami said simply.
Shiki couldn’t help but smile. “You could sound happier about that, too.”
“Happy? Your “dive” put Akumu-chan into a coma for a fortnight because the shock of thinking that I had killed you was too much for her to bear. She’s been blaming herself about your death since she was told the full circumstances and I…”
Ayami stopped abruptly.
“And you, what?” Shiki prompted. “I did what I felt that I had to do. My priority was saving you and Kotou Yuiko, not myself.”
“And you couldn’t have told me this?” Ayami asked. “You should have told me about your master plan.”
“You wouldn’t have believed me or trusted me,” Shiki responded. He paused for a few seconds. “I asked you to trust me, remember? And you didn’t.”
Ayami remembered well. The water pistol that he had threatened her with lay hidden but not forgotten in a drawer in the cabinet behind Shiki. Her eyes automatically drifted over to the cabinet as she thought about that night. She had been confused, desperate… and so, so sure that he had betrayed both her and Akumu-chan. If only she had trusted him, as he’d asked.
“You pulled a gun on me.”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t trust me enough to give me Kotou Yuiko if I had simply asked you. I was right, wasn’t I?”
Ayami didn’t answer.
“I wish I had told you everything as it happened instead of letting things go so far,” Shiki said, “but I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“From men that were willing to kill anyone who stood in their way,” Shiki said. “I didn’t want you to stand in their way.” He paused again, and smiled lightly. “And you would have stood in their way. It’s what you do when your students are involved.”
“So you put yourself in their way instead. For me?” Ayami asked. “Or for Akumu-chan?”
Shiki looked at her in confusion. Ayami was inferring something that he couldn’t quite grasp. “What do you mean? It was for both of you.”
“There was one thing that I wasn’t sure about when Yamasato explained things to me, but I think I understand it now thanks to Akumu-chan’s dream.”
Shiki didn’t respond.
“You put yourself - your reputation, your freedom and your life - on the line for me. Why?”
Shiki stared at her and didn’t blink once. “Because I love you,” he answered simply and honestly.
Ayami closed her eyes for a few seconds and felt a tightening in her chest. It was the answer she had expected, but it still filled her with a happiness that she wasn’t quite sure she knew how to embrace. This man, the one that had listened to her fears, stuck around when she didn’t want him there and had supported her in ways that he probably didn’t even realise and had ultimately sacrificed himself, was in love with her.
She had never thought it possible.
When she spoke next, it was with a voice thick with emotion. “Why did you do it for Akumu-chan?”
Shiki had no immediate answer and instantly, Ayami knew the truth. “Her dream was right, wasn’t it?” she said quietly.
“What dream?” he asked. “The one she mentioned in the temple?”
“She dreamt about us meeting in that temple,” Ayami began. “She dreamt that me and her were there and then we were joined by someone.”
“Me?” Shiki asked.
Ayami slowly shook her head. “Yuiko dreamt of meeting her father there.”
Shiki broke eye contact with Ayami for only a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Ayami to know the truth. Another of Akumu-chan’s prophecies had come true. There may have been no danger or lives on the line in this dream, but it shook and scared Ayami more than any of those nightmares ever had.
It seemed like forever before Shiki finally spoke. His voice was hesitant but strong, as if he was saying words that he had forgotten a long time ago and was having difficulty in recalling. “It’s true,” he said clearly, “I’m her father.”
“Does the Professor know”? Ayami asked.
“No,” Shiki replied. “The only living people who do are in this room right now.”
“Why have you never told him?”
“I made a promise,” Shiki replied.
“To Namiko,” Ayami stated.
Shiki was momentarily taken aback by the softness and familiarity with which Ayami had said Namiko’s name. It seemed out of place coming from someone who had never met her. “Did the Professor speak of her to you?”
Ayami shook her head. “I knew her. We were childhood friends.”
Shiki didn’t even try to hide the look of shock on his face. The shock was soon replaced by a realisation that only served to surprise him more. “It was you… you’re the friend she spoke of that had the prophetic dreams.”
Now it was Ayami’s turn to be surprised. “Namiko spoke of me?”
“She never mentioned a name but it has to be you,” he sighed and leaned back into his chair. “You had the dream about Yuiko, didn’t you? The dream that told Namiko she wouldn’t live to see Yuiko grow up.”
Ayami nodded to confirm that he was correct. She couldn’t find the voice to agree in words.
He removed his glasses and carelessly dropped them onto the table. “She became obsessed with that dream. Even when the doctors told her that she would make a full recovery from her illness and be fine, she was adamant that the illness would kill her and that she had to have a child beforehand.”
“And that was where you stepped in.”
Shiki took a sip of his rapidly cooling tea. He had never spoken about this to anyone and had never thought that he would, but somehow it felt right to tell everything to Ayami. The fact that she was the friend that Namiko had spoken of so fondly made it only more certain that the story needed to be finally told, and that it needed to be told to Ayami.
“We were dating,” he said. “The Professor had been very protective of Namiko since the passing of his wife and wouldn’t let her out of his sight. He wouldn’t have approved of us. Getting the position of his assistant was a dream come true as his research was making him famous. Everybody wanted the job and I was the one who got it. If he’d have known about us, he’d have fired me and I would never have seen her again.”
“So you hid it from everyone.”
“We felt that we didn’t have a choice,” Shiki explained.
“And then Yuiko happened.”
Shiki shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. “I didn’t want to have a child. I didn’t think it was fair to do so while we were still hiding our relationship. If we’d have been married and the Professor had known, it would have been different, maybe.”
“Why did you?”
“Because it was so important to Namiko,” he explained. “It was all she spoke of. No matter what the doctors said about her condition, about how she was getting better and would live a long and happy life, she insisted it wasn’t true and that if I cared for her I’d grant her this last wish before she died.”
“When did you find out she was dying?”
“A few months into her pregnancy,” Shiki said. “It was a self fulfilling prophecy.”
Ayami looked at him blankly. “What does that mean?”
Shiki paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. “The strain of being pregnant was too much for her body. It made her condition worse than it ever had been.”
The realisation of Shiki’s words slowly became clear to Ayami. “It killed her.”
“The doctors believed so, yes. They advised her to have an abortion several times.”
Ayami put her head in her hands. She could feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes. It had been her dream that had killed the only true friend she’d had in her childhood. She hadn’t killed Namiko’s mother like her dreams had lied to her - but she had killed Namiko.
“Ultimately,” Shiki began, “she died happy. She valued Yuiko more than her own life and I think she’d be happy to know that you’ve looked after Yuiko for her.” His voice became quieter but lost none of its strength. “I don’t blame you for what happened and I know Namiko wouldn’t either. Don’t blame yourself.”
“But if she hadn’t become pregnant because of my dream…”
“…something else would have happened. She simply wasn’t as strong as we all believed she was.”
The soft yet reassuring smile that Shiki gave her lifted Ayami’s spirits more than she thought was possible. She knew that he was right - the child Namiko had been utterly unfazed by Ayami’s dream and had been looking forward to having a daughter instead of fearing her own death. Even to the young Ayami it had seemed a strange reaction.
Ayami’s sense of guilt lessened, but still weighed her down.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Shiki stated firmly.
Ayami waved away his comment and decided to move on. She knew that lingering on the subject wouldn’t help anyone. She still had so many questions for Shiki to answer. “She asked you not to tell the Professor you were the father, even after her death?”
“We both thought it was for the best,” he replied. “Not only was I the father but I’d lied to him for nine months about it. We both felt that the only way I could remain in Yuiko’s life in a substantial way was to never tell the Professor and continue on as his assistant.”
“To look after your daughter.”
“It’s what Namiko wanted.”
Ayami looked at him in confusion. “But you tried so hard to get one of Akumu-chan’s dream cards and pulled some underhanded tricks to get one. That wasn’t looking after her.”
“Like I said to Yuiko earlier, I made some mistakes.” He paused before correcting himself. “Lots of mistakes. But I only ever had her best intentions in mind.”
“Going public wasn’t in her best intentions.”
“Going public was never my intention,” Shiki replied, “but on that dream card I had the identity of the man who had kidnapped your student. Was I supposed to keep that a secret knowing that doing so could result in the death of an innocent girl? I had to go to the police with the information as I couldn’t live with that on my conscience. I asked the police to keep the source of the information quiet, but it leaked to the press.
“After it did leak,” Shiki continued, “I tried my best to keep Yuiko’s identity a secret but there were too many coincidences about what she saw. Everything centred on your elementary school. There was nothing I could do but try and protect her as everyone else tried to track her down.”
“Okay, I can believe that you didn’t want to go public although you certainly seemed to enjoy the attention,” Ayami said pointedly. Shiki said nothing. “But why did you want her dream card so much?”
Shiki took a deep breath. “I told you that the Professor was becoming famous, didn’t I?” Ayami nodded quickly. “It was for dream research on children, mainly. He spent many years collecting the dreams of children while searching for the ability to have precognitive dreams.”
“So?” Ayami asked.
“When I started working for him he had already abandoned research on children and was focusing on adults. I asked him why he had changed, but he refused to answer. I had expected that it was due to the research not leading anywhere, but his refusal to admit that made me curious so I searched through his old papers.”
It was obvious to Ayami that what Shiki had discovered wasn’t good. “What did the papers say?”
“That capturing the prophetic dreams of children causes more harm than good. It results in the power being multiplied and the dreams becoming more and more vivid. The Professor never concerned himself with how to stop that from happening and I was worried about him continuing the research on Yuiko.”
“But you drew cards from her too!”
“Yes, I did,” Shiki said. “Do you know how it felt to be her father and to be locked out of what was happening? He told you everything, but told me nothing. I had to know if she could prophetic dream and if she could, I didn’t want him to be studying her. That’s why after I had the confirmation that she could dream, I tried to get her away from him.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you still drew cards too! You used me to confirm she could predict the future and then did the same as the Professor anyway!”
Shiki shook his head. “I never used you. Yes, I wanted to know the truth but I also wanted to know you. The two goals were inclusive.”
Ayami looked at him in disbelief. “Are you saying that even if Akumu-chan hadn’t have been a ‘goal’ you still would have…”
“..fallen in love with you?” Shiki asked. “Yes. Having Yuiko to discuss made it happen quicker, I think, but it would have happened anyway.”
Ayami felt that tightening in her chest again but did her best to ignore it. “And the dream cards?”
“We designed a new way of pulling the dream cards that wasn’t as invasive,” Shiki explained. “It shouldn’t have the same accumulative effect of making the nightmares worse like the Professor’s equipment does. It was safe and it was what Yuiko wanted.”
“She wanted it?” Ayami asked in disbelief.
“She wanted to help people,” Shiki answered. He was smiling slightly when he spoke next. “She really reminds me of her mother, sometimes.”
Ayami smiled too. “But what now?” Ayami asked. “Where do we go from here? Yuiko will demand an answer to her dream - will you keep lying to her?”
Shiki stood up, stretched his legs and took his now cold cup of tea into the kitchen. Ayami listened in silence as she heard him dispose of the tea and wash the cup. It was thinking time for him, Ayami knew, as he had always resorted to more practical things whenever she had asked him a question that needed a thoughtful answer.
Finally, he came back and stood next to her chair, his fingertips tracing patterns on the top of the table before her. “I think,” he said slowly, “that things have gone far enough now that the Professor can’t keep me away from Yuiko.” He paused again. “I don’t think he would want to keep me away from her anymore.”
“If Yuiko knew you were her father, she wouldn’t let him,” Ayami replied. “She wants a proper family so desperately.”
“I can only hope I won’t be a disappointment to her,” he said hesitantly.
It was the uncharacteristic vulnerability and uncertainty in his voice that finally broke Ayami’s anger for good. In the months that she had come to know him he had always been strong and certain, and confident and reliable. Hearing the full story laid out before her, of how he’d tried to keep her safe and how he’d silently watched over Akumu-chan all of these years made her wonder how he’d managed to conceal his doubts and fears from her so easily.
She had been so selfish in their relationship to date, she realised. He had always been there for her, but she had never been there for him. He’d confided in [kouhai] instead and Ayami knew that was just one more thing to add to the list of what she felt guilty about. If only he’d confided in her from the start - most of the mess they currently found themselves in could have been avoided.
Without that anger raging inside her, Ayami’s true emotions were easier to read.
She thought twice about it, but in the end Ayami decided to ignore her doubts and give into her heart. She cautiously reached across the table and entwined her fingers with his. The smile he gave her brought forth a warmth that she hadn’t felt since he had been a regular fixture in her life.
“You won’t be a disappointment,” she said.
“Am I forgiven for…” he paused, “…everything?”
Ayami scoffed. “Not by a long shot, Mister. But, I am glad you’re not dead.”
He couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“If you want to tell Yuiko and the Professor, I’ll be there to support you,” she said.
Shiki squatted next to Ayami’s chair. She was slightly taller than him like this, but it made it easier to speak to her. Their hands were still clasped together. “You’ve changed so much since I first met you.”
“Yes, I have,” she agreed. She’d finally begun to realise not only the full extent of the change, but that it was a positive change. “You have too.”
“I have?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “How?”
“The first time I met you was in my dreams on a white horse. You were infuriatingly cheesy.”
Shiki was puzzled. “I’ve never understood why your Yumeoji looked like me. You dreamt of him before you ever met me. Was it a prophetic dream of your own?”
Ayami considered the question. “Maybe, I used to think that was the case although I’d consider Yumeoji more of a prophetic nightmare than a dream. I’ve come to have another theory lately.”
“What’s that?”
“That Namiko sent you to me. I think she’s been watching me and Yuiko in our dreams as Yumenoke so I think she sent me Yumeoji also. It was her way of telling me that I should trust you.”
Shiki considered Ayami’s idea for a few seconds. “I would like to believe that is true,” he said softly, “as I guess that would mean that Namiko is happy for us.”
“She made you into a perfect Prince Charming that would do anything for me, gave you a flying white horse and gingerbread house. I think she was definitely saying she’d approve of us.”
“So there is still an us?”
Ayami hesitated. Her heart screamed one answer, but her fears screamed another. She thought of what an ‘us’ would mean and her mind quickly jumped to Akumu-chan. Shiki’s revelation that he was Akumu-chan’s father and that he wanted to acknowledge that meant that the girl was now part of the package. But, Ayami thought of something else, too. Akumu-chan had been scared of her nightmares, petrified even sometimes, yet she had faced them, embraced them and wanted to help. Ayami may be the teacher and Akumu-chan the student, but it was a lesson that Ayami thought she should learn from.
She had grown to love Akumu-chan as if she was her daughter over the past few months and as she looked down at Shiki, his face a perfect picture of patient nerves, she knew that she’d come to love a lot more than just Akumu-chan.
Follow your heart, not your fears.
She nodded. “Slowly… we should take things slowly as so much as happened.”
He smiled. Ayami had forgotten how truly beautiful his full, unreserved smile was. “We’ll go as slowly as we need to.” He paused before continuing. “There is one thing I have to ask you though.”
His thumb was tracing lazy patterns across the back of her hand and Ayami was amazed at how such a gentle touch could settle her nerves so much. “What is it?”
“You said something to me on the boat. It was the last thing you said to me and the thing I held onto when I was in the hospital wondering if my actions had caused more harm than good.”
Ayami knew what he was referring to. How could she not? “I told you that I had fallen in love with you.”
He smiled again. “Yes. The only time you ever said it and it was as you were trying to kill me.”
Ayami looked at him sheepishly. “I’m not good at saying how I feel and things like…”
“Say it again,” he interrupted her. “Just this once and you don’t need to say it ever again if you don’t want to. I just need to hear it, once.”
She felt guilty. He had, from day one of their relationship, made it clear how he had felt about her. She had never entirely believed him as she had at times suspected his motives and at other times wondered why anybody would care so deeply for her, but she had always known. She had never been as honest with him. Ayami had never truly listened to her heart and it had accumulated in that night when he had tried to take Akumu-chan from her by force, because he knew she would never have believed him enough to hand her over voluntarily.
Ayami knew that if things were to progress, she truly did have to let go of her fears.
“I do love you,” Ayami said, her words escaping in one big rushed breath, “and I always have it’s just that…”
“Sssh,” he said softly, trying to calm her, “it’s okay. That’s enough.”
Any further words of Ayami’s were silenced when he shuffled forward and wrapped his strong arms around her, the embrace taking her by surprise but being welcomed all the same. His position on his knees before her chair meant that his forehead came to rest against her chin and she took the opportunity to kiss his temple, feel the softness of his hair against her cheek and welcome the warm and familiar body that pressed against her.
It really was him. Truly.
Ayami felt the stresses and strains of the last several months unravel within her and she began to cry, her tears running down her face onto his sweater and onto him. Shiki whispered reassuring words she couldn’t quite hear and rubbed her back as he could do nothing more from his position - Ayami refused to let him go in case he disappeared again.
In the middle of her tears Ayami came to realise she no longer knew what direction her future was going to take. It had all been so easy and predictable before Shiki Takashi and Kotou Yuiko had come into her life. Her future was teaching, a job she thought she hated, and that was all it consisted of. But now, there were doors opening everywhere and she found that she was no longer scared despite not knowing what lay behind them.
There was still a lot to decide and a lot to discuss, she knew. Shiki had a tough conversation with the Professor in his future and a potentially even tougher one with Akumu-chan but she had meant it when she said that he would face them with Ayami standing by his side. She owed it to him, to Akumu-chan and more importantly, to her own happiness. She wanted to live her days in happiness instead of just existing like she had before. The man in her arms and his daughter were integral parts of that happiness and Ayami suddenly realised that she didn’t want it any other way.
Ayami didn’t know what the future had planned for her, but she knew she was no longer afraid of it.
~owari
Notes
1) I have no idea how likely it is that we will get anything more from Akumu-chan as I don't know what the ratings were like, so I decided to tie up the loose ends myself. I think I got and explained most of them. For the record, if there was a special or a second season I wouldn't want everything to be explained like this but this is fiction so I can do what I like!
2) I tried to keep it in character, I hope I managed it!
Author - unwritten_ideas
Rating - PG
Word Count - 5,670
Pairing - Mutoi Ayami x Shiki Takashi
Characters - Mutoi Ayami, Shiki Takashi, Kotou Yuiko
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - Returns, reunions and revelations
Notes - contains spoilers for the entire season of Akumu-chan.
Follows on immediately from the end of the last episode.
Apologies for any liberties taken with canon.
Ayami couldn’t believe her eyes. It certainly looked like him - the hair was as messy, the eyes as piercing and the smile as lazy yet confident as it ever had been, but she couldn’t quite believe it. His sudden appearance only a few feet away from where she stood next to Yuiko felt like she was watching someone else’s dream. She tried to find a footing in a world that didn’t quite make sense anymore and grabbed hold of what felt familiar.
“Why are you here?!” Ayami said, disbelief mixing with misplaced and untrue anger, “I thought you were dead!”
Shiki’s smile faltered slightly but he pulled it back into place. “”Nice to see you too, Ayami.” He turned his attention to Ayami’s young companion and his smile widened. “You too, young lady.”
Yuiko was just as confused as Ayami, but for different reasons. Her mind was still full of the dream she’d had only a few nights prior and she looked at Shiki with new eyes, desperately searching for any family resemblance that would make her dream true. She’d never had a family, well, not a proper one at least. Her grandfather had done his best and she was forever grateful to him but it wasn’t the same as having a mother and father. Parents. Or, at least she thought it wasn’t.
“Ayami-sensei,” Yuiko said, lightly tugging on the sleeve of Ayami’s coat. “My dream!”
Ayami ignored her. “Did you follow us?”
“I wanted to talk with you,” Shiki answered.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you!” Ayami snapped back.
Ayami’s heart may have become more open over the months she had known Yuiko and Shiki, she may have learnt to trust and even to love but there were still defences and walls that hadn’t been completely torn down yet. Shiki’s “death” and the knowledge that it had been to protect her had hurt Ayami more than she had thought possible and she was angry at herself. Angry because she’d let him in… and angry that she hadn’t let him in enough.
“You’re angry and confused,” Shiki said, “I understand that…”
“You have no idea! These last few months since I met you have been…” Ayami couldn’t find the word to finish her sentence and instead resorted back to anger. “I don’t want to talk to you!”
Ayami turned on her heels and quickly walked away. Yuiko ran after her, almost falling over the uneven pavement as she kept turning around to look at both of the adults, as if she was fearful that if she took her eyes of either one of them for just a second they would disappear. Shiki followed too, but at a more leisurely pace. He knew that Ayami’s anger was only superficial and that it was hiding emotions far more complicated and deep than Ayami wanted to acknowledge at that moment.
Yuiko caught up with Ayami and grabbed her arm again. Ayami sighed and rolled her eyes but allowed Yuiko to stop her as she tried to ignore the sound of the slow footsteps that indicated that he had followed them again.
“Shiki-sensei!”, Yuiko called, “I think I had another dream.”
Shiki glanced at Ayami’s averted face for a few seconds before dropping to his knees next to Yuiko, a hand coming to rest on the child’s shoulder. “Before you tell me,” he said softly, “I want to say that I’m sorry if I ever scared you. I was always on your side and trying to protect you, but I made some wrong decisions. I’m sorry.”
Shiki paused and looked up at Ayami. She was still ignoring him, but he could tell she was listening to every word. “I’m sorry to both of you,” he finished.
Yuiko nodded and smiled. “It’s okay. I never felt scared with you, not even when we were on the boat with the scary men.”
Shiki smiled and was glad to see Yuiko return the gesture.
“Hey!” Ayami said, her arms folded across her chest and a stern look on her face as she looked down at the pair of them, “you might be able to placate her with a smile and an apology but I’m not as easy!”
“I didn’t think you were,” Shiki sighed. He squeezed Yuiko’s shoulder lightly before standing and letting go. “I did hope you’d be a little happier to see me though. I’m happy to see you.”
Ayami didn’t seem happy to see him, Yuiko realised. Yuiko was worried. She wanted to know if her dream meant that he was her father, but she could see Ayami driving him away before she had chance to find her answer.
“Ayami-sensei!” Yuiko said loudly, “my dream!”
“Not now, Akumu-chan,” Ayami said dismissively. “I’m still angry at him.”
Shiki glanced between the two and instinctively knew that whatever Yuiko’s dream was, it was a dream that concerned him. He thought that pressing for more information at that moment was a mistake and so decided to make no comment. He could ask for details later. Now, speaking with Ayami was his main concern.
“Can I explain a few things to you?” Shiki asked Ayami. “You can still shout at me if it will make you feel better.”
“I’ve heard your explanation already from Yamasato.”
“I think you should hear it from me,” Shiki stated firmly.
Ayami paused. The longer she was in his presence, the harder it was to hold onto the anger that was protecting her from the other emotions that were raging through her. Those emotions were harder to classify and accept, despite the progress she’d already made, but she knew she couldn’t hide from them forever.
“Okay.” Ayami turned to Yuiko. “Let’s take you home, Akumu-chan. Then, we talk.”
Yuiko protested as Ayami led her out of the temple grounds. “But my dream! Ayami-sensei! Is he…?”
“Not now!” Ayami reiterated firmly. “It was your dreams that started all of this mess! I don’t want to talk about them anymore.”
Shiki followed them out of the grounds and onto the street. The two of them were still arguing but it was with a warmth and familiarity that he had never thought Ayami capable of when he had first met her. She had travelled so far and grown so much as a person and he felt proud that he had, however little, contributed to that growth.
He also knew that no matter what Ayami said, her anger at him was only skin deep. Underneath that anger were the feelings he wanted to reach and he was sure that he would be able to break through and touch them. He had before after all, he could do it again.
*~*~*~
Ayami sat at the table in her apartment. The sounds of Shiki moving around her kitchen as effortlessly and confidently as if it was his own reached her ears but she tried to ignore them, her eyes resolutely fixed to the sparkling clean surface of the table before her.
Shiki was making tea for them both. It had been months since he had last done so and now that Ayami was sitting there as he filled two cups with hot water, it felt like no time at all. But that was wrong, she knew. So much had happened since those days when she would come home from school to a warm apartment, the enticing smells of whatever he was cooking, a soft smile and heartfelt “welcome home” that it was almost another life.
He had betrayed her. But he hadn’t.
He had sold out Akumu-chan. But he hadn’t.
She had hated him. But she hadn’t.
It was hard to believe how far things had gone, and how far things had come.
She was broken from her reverie by the dull thud of a cup being placed before her and the scrape of a chair being pulled back from the table. He was sat across from her now, close enough to touch, but he had never felt so far away. Ayami still couldn’t quite believe it was him.
Ayami felt like she was in a lucid dream that she had lost control of. He had been a regular fixture in those, as either himself or Yumeoji, since she had seen him fall. Their reunions were always happier than this but then again, the Ayami that lived in her dream world was never unsure, never frightened, never hurt and had never cried until she had no tears left. The real Ayami, however, had.
The anger that carried her through the meeting at the temple had long since disappeared. It had been her defence during that impromptu meeting - just like searching for Akumu-chan and devoting her time to the Christmas recital had been her defence against the pain she’d felt at Shiki’s apparent death. When she was busy and distracted, she didn’t feel. Now, every breath Shiki took was a reminder of the pain she’d tried to block out and she could feel her last defences crumbling with every rise of his chest.
He was alive. Ayami didn’t know how to react.
“I mourned you,” she said softly. “I’ve spent the last few weeks believing that you died to save me. I’ve relived that night over and over in my mind and tried to see if there was something else I could have done, another way out, that would have ended things differently.”
“There wasn’t,” he said firmly. “Things had to happen the way they did.”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? You’re here - risen from the dead like something out of Akumu-chan’s nightmares.”
“Would you prefer that I wasn’t here?”
“I’d prefer it if none of this had happened at all!”
The anger was back, but Shiki could hear the quiver in Ayami’s voice. It was forced anger and something he knew he could withstand. “I didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”
“No, nobody did,” Ayami agreed. “How did you survive?”
“Before you confronted me I’d called the police,” Shiki explained. “If half of the police force raids a ship then it attracts the attention of other ships in the area. I was rescued by a fishing ship that had come to see what was happening.”
Ayami stared at him in silence. “You never planned to survive, did you? It was pure luck.”
“I guess it wasn’t my time,” he shrugged.
“But that was a month ago,” Ayami said. “Where have you been since then?”
“In hospital mainly. I did take a dive into ice cold water, after all.”
“You’re okay now?” Ayami asked.
“I’m okay,” he replied.
“Okay then,” Ayami said simply.
Shiki couldn’t help but smile. “You could sound happier about that, too.”
“Happy? Your “dive” put Akumu-chan into a coma for a fortnight because the shock of thinking that I had killed you was too much for her to bear. She’s been blaming herself about your death since she was told the full circumstances and I…”
Ayami stopped abruptly.
“And you, what?” Shiki prompted. “I did what I felt that I had to do. My priority was saving you and Kotou Yuiko, not myself.”
“And you couldn’t have told me this?” Ayami asked. “You should have told me about your master plan.”
“You wouldn’t have believed me or trusted me,” Shiki responded. He paused for a few seconds. “I asked you to trust me, remember? And you didn’t.”
Ayami remembered well. The water pistol that he had threatened her with lay hidden but not forgotten in a drawer in the cabinet behind Shiki. Her eyes automatically drifted over to the cabinet as she thought about that night. She had been confused, desperate… and so, so sure that he had betrayed both her and Akumu-chan. If only she had trusted him, as he’d asked.
“You pulled a gun on me.”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t trust me enough to give me Kotou Yuiko if I had simply asked you. I was right, wasn’t I?”
Ayami didn’t answer.
“I wish I had told you everything as it happened instead of letting things go so far,” Shiki said, “but I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“From men that were willing to kill anyone who stood in their way,” Shiki said. “I didn’t want you to stand in their way.” He paused again, and smiled lightly. “And you would have stood in their way. It’s what you do when your students are involved.”
“So you put yourself in their way instead. For me?” Ayami asked. “Or for Akumu-chan?”
Shiki looked at her in confusion. Ayami was inferring something that he couldn’t quite grasp. “What do you mean? It was for both of you.”
“There was one thing that I wasn’t sure about when Yamasato explained things to me, but I think I understand it now thanks to Akumu-chan’s dream.”
Shiki didn’t respond.
“You put yourself - your reputation, your freedom and your life - on the line for me. Why?”
Shiki stared at her and didn’t blink once. “Because I love you,” he answered simply and honestly.
Ayami closed her eyes for a few seconds and felt a tightening in her chest. It was the answer she had expected, but it still filled her with a happiness that she wasn’t quite sure she knew how to embrace. This man, the one that had listened to her fears, stuck around when she didn’t want him there and had supported her in ways that he probably didn’t even realise and had ultimately sacrificed himself, was in love with her.
She had never thought it possible.
When she spoke next, it was with a voice thick with emotion. “Why did you do it for Akumu-chan?”
Shiki had no immediate answer and instantly, Ayami knew the truth. “Her dream was right, wasn’t it?” she said quietly.
“What dream?” he asked. “The one she mentioned in the temple?”
“She dreamt about us meeting in that temple,” Ayami began. “She dreamt that me and her were there and then we were joined by someone.”
“Me?” Shiki asked.
Ayami slowly shook her head. “Yuiko dreamt of meeting her father there.”
Shiki broke eye contact with Ayami for only a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Ayami to know the truth. Another of Akumu-chan’s prophecies had come true. There may have been no danger or lives on the line in this dream, but it shook and scared Ayami more than any of those nightmares ever had.
It seemed like forever before Shiki finally spoke. His voice was hesitant but strong, as if he was saying words that he had forgotten a long time ago and was having difficulty in recalling. “It’s true,” he said clearly, “I’m her father.”
“Does the Professor know”? Ayami asked.
“No,” Shiki replied. “The only living people who do are in this room right now.”
“Why have you never told him?”
“I made a promise,” Shiki replied.
“To Namiko,” Ayami stated.
Shiki was momentarily taken aback by the softness and familiarity with which Ayami had said Namiko’s name. It seemed out of place coming from someone who had never met her. “Did the Professor speak of her to you?”
Ayami shook her head. “I knew her. We were childhood friends.”
Shiki didn’t even try to hide the look of shock on his face. The shock was soon replaced by a realisation that only served to surprise him more. “It was you… you’re the friend she spoke of that had the prophetic dreams.”
Now it was Ayami’s turn to be surprised. “Namiko spoke of me?”
“She never mentioned a name but it has to be you,” he sighed and leaned back into his chair. “You had the dream about Yuiko, didn’t you? The dream that told Namiko she wouldn’t live to see Yuiko grow up.”
Ayami nodded to confirm that he was correct. She couldn’t find the voice to agree in words.
He removed his glasses and carelessly dropped them onto the table. “She became obsessed with that dream. Even when the doctors told her that she would make a full recovery from her illness and be fine, she was adamant that the illness would kill her and that she had to have a child beforehand.”
“And that was where you stepped in.”
Shiki took a sip of his rapidly cooling tea. He had never spoken about this to anyone and had never thought that he would, but somehow it felt right to tell everything to Ayami. The fact that she was the friend that Namiko had spoken of so fondly made it only more certain that the story needed to be finally told, and that it needed to be told to Ayami.
“We were dating,” he said. “The Professor had been very protective of Namiko since the passing of his wife and wouldn’t let her out of his sight. He wouldn’t have approved of us. Getting the position of his assistant was a dream come true as his research was making him famous. Everybody wanted the job and I was the one who got it. If he’d have known about us, he’d have fired me and I would never have seen her again.”
“So you hid it from everyone.”
“We felt that we didn’t have a choice,” Shiki explained.
“And then Yuiko happened.”
Shiki shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. “I didn’t want to have a child. I didn’t think it was fair to do so while we were still hiding our relationship. If we’d have been married and the Professor had known, it would have been different, maybe.”
“Why did you?”
“Because it was so important to Namiko,” he explained. “It was all she spoke of. No matter what the doctors said about her condition, about how she was getting better and would live a long and happy life, she insisted it wasn’t true and that if I cared for her I’d grant her this last wish before she died.”
“When did you find out she was dying?”
“A few months into her pregnancy,” Shiki said. “It was a self fulfilling prophecy.”
Ayami looked at him blankly. “What does that mean?”
Shiki paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. “The strain of being pregnant was too much for her body. It made her condition worse than it ever had been.”
The realisation of Shiki’s words slowly became clear to Ayami. “It killed her.”
“The doctors believed so, yes. They advised her to have an abortion several times.”
Ayami put her head in her hands. She could feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes. It had been her dream that had killed the only true friend she’d had in her childhood. She hadn’t killed Namiko’s mother like her dreams had lied to her - but she had killed Namiko.
“Ultimately,” Shiki began, “she died happy. She valued Yuiko more than her own life and I think she’d be happy to know that you’ve looked after Yuiko for her.” His voice became quieter but lost none of its strength. “I don’t blame you for what happened and I know Namiko wouldn’t either. Don’t blame yourself.”
“But if she hadn’t become pregnant because of my dream…”
“…something else would have happened. She simply wasn’t as strong as we all believed she was.”
The soft yet reassuring smile that Shiki gave her lifted Ayami’s spirits more than she thought was possible. She knew that he was right - the child Namiko had been utterly unfazed by Ayami’s dream and had been looking forward to having a daughter instead of fearing her own death. Even to the young Ayami it had seemed a strange reaction.
Ayami’s sense of guilt lessened, but still weighed her down.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Shiki stated firmly.
Ayami waved away his comment and decided to move on. She knew that lingering on the subject wouldn’t help anyone. She still had so many questions for Shiki to answer. “She asked you not to tell the Professor you were the father, even after her death?”
“We both thought it was for the best,” he replied. “Not only was I the father but I’d lied to him for nine months about it. We both felt that the only way I could remain in Yuiko’s life in a substantial way was to never tell the Professor and continue on as his assistant.”
“To look after your daughter.”
“It’s what Namiko wanted.”
Ayami looked at him in confusion. “But you tried so hard to get one of Akumu-chan’s dream cards and pulled some underhanded tricks to get one. That wasn’t looking after her.”
“Like I said to Yuiko earlier, I made some mistakes.” He paused before correcting himself. “Lots of mistakes. But I only ever had her best intentions in mind.”
“Going public wasn’t in her best intentions.”
“Going public was never my intention,” Shiki replied, “but on that dream card I had the identity of the man who had kidnapped your student. Was I supposed to keep that a secret knowing that doing so could result in the death of an innocent girl? I had to go to the police with the information as I couldn’t live with that on my conscience. I asked the police to keep the source of the information quiet, but it leaked to the press.
“After it did leak,” Shiki continued, “I tried my best to keep Yuiko’s identity a secret but there were too many coincidences about what she saw. Everything centred on your elementary school. There was nothing I could do but try and protect her as everyone else tried to track her down.”
“Okay, I can believe that you didn’t want to go public although you certainly seemed to enjoy the attention,” Ayami said pointedly. Shiki said nothing. “But why did you want her dream card so much?”
Shiki took a deep breath. “I told you that the Professor was becoming famous, didn’t I?” Ayami nodded quickly. “It was for dream research on children, mainly. He spent many years collecting the dreams of children while searching for the ability to have precognitive dreams.”
“So?” Ayami asked.
“When I started working for him he had already abandoned research on children and was focusing on adults. I asked him why he had changed, but he refused to answer. I had expected that it was due to the research not leading anywhere, but his refusal to admit that made me curious so I searched through his old papers.”
It was obvious to Ayami that what Shiki had discovered wasn’t good. “What did the papers say?”
“That capturing the prophetic dreams of children causes more harm than good. It results in the power being multiplied and the dreams becoming more and more vivid. The Professor never concerned himself with how to stop that from happening and I was worried about him continuing the research on Yuiko.”
“But you drew cards from her too!”
“Yes, I did,” Shiki said. “Do you know how it felt to be her father and to be locked out of what was happening? He told you everything, but told me nothing. I had to know if she could prophetic dream and if she could, I didn’t want him to be studying her. That’s why after I had the confirmation that she could dream, I tried to get her away from him.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you still drew cards too! You used me to confirm she could predict the future and then did the same as the Professor anyway!”
Shiki shook his head. “I never used you. Yes, I wanted to know the truth but I also wanted to know you. The two goals were inclusive.”
Ayami looked at him in disbelief. “Are you saying that even if Akumu-chan hadn’t have been a ‘goal’ you still would have…”
“..fallen in love with you?” Shiki asked. “Yes. Having Yuiko to discuss made it happen quicker, I think, but it would have happened anyway.”
Ayami felt that tightening in her chest again but did her best to ignore it. “And the dream cards?”
“We designed a new way of pulling the dream cards that wasn’t as invasive,” Shiki explained. “It shouldn’t have the same accumulative effect of making the nightmares worse like the Professor’s equipment does. It was safe and it was what Yuiko wanted.”
“She wanted it?” Ayami asked in disbelief.
“She wanted to help people,” Shiki answered. He was smiling slightly when he spoke next. “She really reminds me of her mother, sometimes.”
Ayami smiled too. “But what now?” Ayami asked. “Where do we go from here? Yuiko will demand an answer to her dream - will you keep lying to her?”
Shiki stood up, stretched his legs and took his now cold cup of tea into the kitchen. Ayami listened in silence as she heard him dispose of the tea and wash the cup. It was thinking time for him, Ayami knew, as he had always resorted to more practical things whenever she had asked him a question that needed a thoughtful answer.
Finally, he came back and stood next to her chair, his fingertips tracing patterns on the top of the table before her. “I think,” he said slowly, “that things have gone far enough now that the Professor can’t keep me away from Yuiko.” He paused again. “I don’t think he would want to keep me away from her anymore.”
“If Yuiko knew you were her father, she wouldn’t let him,” Ayami replied. “She wants a proper family so desperately.”
“I can only hope I won’t be a disappointment to her,” he said hesitantly.
It was the uncharacteristic vulnerability and uncertainty in his voice that finally broke Ayami’s anger for good. In the months that she had come to know him he had always been strong and certain, and confident and reliable. Hearing the full story laid out before her, of how he’d tried to keep her safe and how he’d silently watched over Akumu-chan all of these years made her wonder how he’d managed to conceal his doubts and fears from her so easily.
She had been so selfish in their relationship to date, she realised. He had always been there for her, but she had never been there for him. He’d confided in [kouhai] instead and Ayami knew that was just one more thing to add to the list of what she felt guilty about. If only he’d confided in her from the start - most of the mess they currently found themselves in could have been avoided.
Without that anger raging inside her, Ayami’s true emotions were easier to read.
She thought twice about it, but in the end Ayami decided to ignore her doubts and give into her heart. She cautiously reached across the table and entwined her fingers with his. The smile he gave her brought forth a warmth that she hadn’t felt since he had been a regular fixture in her life.
“You won’t be a disappointment,” she said.
“Am I forgiven for…” he paused, “…everything?”
Ayami scoffed. “Not by a long shot, Mister. But, I am glad you’re not dead.”
He couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“If you want to tell Yuiko and the Professor, I’ll be there to support you,” she said.
Shiki squatted next to Ayami’s chair. She was slightly taller than him like this, but it made it easier to speak to her. Their hands were still clasped together. “You’ve changed so much since I first met you.”
“Yes, I have,” she agreed. She’d finally begun to realise not only the full extent of the change, but that it was a positive change. “You have too.”
“I have?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “How?”
“The first time I met you was in my dreams on a white horse. You were infuriatingly cheesy.”
Shiki was puzzled. “I’ve never understood why your Yumeoji looked like me. You dreamt of him before you ever met me. Was it a prophetic dream of your own?”
Ayami considered the question. “Maybe, I used to think that was the case although I’d consider Yumeoji more of a prophetic nightmare than a dream. I’ve come to have another theory lately.”
“What’s that?”
“That Namiko sent you to me. I think she’s been watching me and Yuiko in our dreams as Yumenoke so I think she sent me Yumeoji also. It was her way of telling me that I should trust you.”
Shiki considered Ayami’s idea for a few seconds. “I would like to believe that is true,” he said softly, “as I guess that would mean that Namiko is happy for us.”
“She made you into a perfect Prince Charming that would do anything for me, gave you a flying white horse and gingerbread house. I think she was definitely saying she’d approve of us.”
“So there is still an us?”
Ayami hesitated. Her heart screamed one answer, but her fears screamed another. She thought of what an ‘us’ would mean and her mind quickly jumped to Akumu-chan. Shiki’s revelation that he was Akumu-chan’s father and that he wanted to acknowledge that meant that the girl was now part of the package. But, Ayami thought of something else, too. Akumu-chan had been scared of her nightmares, petrified even sometimes, yet she had faced them, embraced them and wanted to help. Ayami may be the teacher and Akumu-chan the student, but it was a lesson that Ayami thought she should learn from.
She had grown to love Akumu-chan as if she was her daughter over the past few months and as she looked down at Shiki, his face a perfect picture of patient nerves, she knew that she’d come to love a lot more than just Akumu-chan.
Follow your heart, not your fears.
She nodded. “Slowly… we should take things slowly as so much as happened.”
He smiled. Ayami had forgotten how truly beautiful his full, unreserved smile was. “We’ll go as slowly as we need to.” He paused before continuing. “There is one thing I have to ask you though.”
His thumb was tracing lazy patterns across the back of her hand and Ayami was amazed at how such a gentle touch could settle her nerves so much. “What is it?”
“You said something to me on the boat. It was the last thing you said to me and the thing I held onto when I was in the hospital wondering if my actions had caused more harm than good.”
Ayami knew what he was referring to. How could she not? “I told you that I had fallen in love with you.”
He smiled again. “Yes. The only time you ever said it and it was as you were trying to kill me.”
Ayami looked at him sheepishly. “I’m not good at saying how I feel and things like…”
“Say it again,” he interrupted her. “Just this once and you don’t need to say it ever again if you don’t want to. I just need to hear it, once.”
She felt guilty. He had, from day one of their relationship, made it clear how he had felt about her. She had never entirely believed him as she had at times suspected his motives and at other times wondered why anybody would care so deeply for her, but she had always known. She had never been as honest with him. Ayami had never truly listened to her heart and it had accumulated in that night when he had tried to take Akumu-chan from her by force, because he knew she would never have believed him enough to hand her over voluntarily.
Ayami knew that if things were to progress, she truly did have to let go of her fears.
“I do love you,” Ayami said, her words escaping in one big rushed breath, “and I always have it’s just that…”
“Sssh,” he said softly, trying to calm her, “it’s okay. That’s enough.”
Any further words of Ayami’s were silenced when he shuffled forward and wrapped his strong arms around her, the embrace taking her by surprise but being welcomed all the same. His position on his knees before her chair meant that his forehead came to rest against her chin and she took the opportunity to kiss his temple, feel the softness of his hair against her cheek and welcome the warm and familiar body that pressed against her.
It really was him. Truly.
Ayami felt the stresses and strains of the last several months unravel within her and she began to cry, her tears running down her face onto his sweater and onto him. Shiki whispered reassuring words she couldn’t quite hear and rubbed her back as he could do nothing more from his position - Ayami refused to let him go in case he disappeared again.
In the middle of her tears Ayami came to realise she no longer knew what direction her future was going to take. It had all been so easy and predictable before Shiki Takashi and Kotou Yuiko had come into her life. Her future was teaching, a job she thought she hated, and that was all it consisted of. But now, there were doors opening everywhere and she found that she was no longer scared despite not knowing what lay behind them.
There was still a lot to decide and a lot to discuss, she knew. Shiki had a tough conversation with the Professor in his future and a potentially even tougher one with Akumu-chan but she had meant it when she said that he would face them with Ayami standing by his side. She owed it to him, to Akumu-chan and more importantly, to her own happiness. She wanted to live her days in happiness instead of just existing like she had before. The man in her arms and his daughter were integral parts of that happiness and Ayami suddenly realised that she didn’t want it any other way.
Ayami didn’t know what the future had planned for her, but she knew she was no longer afraid of it.
~owari
Notes
1) I have no idea how likely it is that we will get anything more from Akumu-chan as I don't know what the ratings were like, so I decided to tie up the loose ends myself. I think I got and explained most of them. For the record, if there was a special or a second season I wouldn't want everything to be explained like this but this is fiction so I can do what I like!
2) I tried to keep it in character, I hope I managed it!