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One Step
Written by: Kiasidira Ixari
Co-written by: Aventria
ROFLROFLROFL. HOMG. YOU GUYS SHOULD’VE SEEN YOU REACTIONS TO THAT LAST CHAPTER!! LAUGHS ARSE OFF Btw, that last chapter raked in the highest reviews and ratings since chapter 10. Keep it coming, people. XDXD And no, we didn’t do that because we wanted the reviews; we did that because we wanted to see your reactions. (Translation: torture you.)
Btw, don’t kill me. It was Tri’s idea. XD I’m just the… err, accomplice. XDXD
Tria: o LIAR!!! She’s just pointing fingers. . ; she was the one who said she wanted to end it there and I’m only the one that gave her the ‘GO.’ XP (haven’t used bleu for a while wheeeee AUI – annotating under influence XDXD wheeeeeee)
Kia: ……….Tria, I told you not to annotate while you were as good as DRUNK! For tennis’ sake…. (kneads forehead)
Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Audi. Sadly. (snicker)
AND SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KIA-CHAN! (September 20th)
Step Thirty-Two: Heir (Part II)
(Revised Version)
This was really not going the way he wanted it to go.
“Sanada,” he muttered silently, and Sanada immediately turned and bellowed an overpowering ‘Silence!’ over the crowd, with the unspoken promise of Sanada-slaps for anyone who disobeyed.
As expected, every single one of them shut up.
“Silence,” Sanada repeated in a loud but calmer voice. “How can you expect us to explain the situation when all of you are chattering into each other’s ears?!”
Tachibana crossed his arms behind Sanada, leveling the group with that glare that was communal when it came to captains, the glare that all had them scampering to behave and obey. It was a wonder how all captains seemed to have that commanding air about them—Mizuki as an exception, of course; commanding was a wrong word to describe him—but right now was not the time to ponder on that matter.
“All of you,” Yukimura began. “Listen up. We received a short message from Oshitari-san a few minutes ago. He’d explained everything; Echizen-kun was poisoned. The extent of the damage is not known yet, and the doctors are doing everything they can, but apparently, Echizen-sensei found him not breathing and without a pulse inside his room.”
Alarmed expressions flitted over numerous faces within the crowd. Worried yelps and gaps from some of them—especially from those who were in Seigaku with Ryoma—overrode the running whispers.
Yukimura continued in a deadened, silent voice. No one dared interrupt. “I want to know if anyone—anyone—saw Echizen-kun after dinner last night.”
Momoshiro raised his hand. “I walked him to his room,” he said, worry shining in his eyes. “I was asking him if he wanted to play some video games over at mine and mamushi’s room, but he said Nanjiroh-sensei asked him to arrange some house bills and stuff.”
“Was he feeling ill at that time, or did he look somehow off?” Tachibana clarified.
“No, he wasn’t,” Momoshiro shook his head in negation. “I know him; we were close. I’d at least know if there’s something bothering him, but no. He was behaving normally.”
There was a bit of silence disrupted only by occasional murmurs here and there.
“Anyone else?” prompted Sanada.
No one else raised their hands.
“Does anyone know if he went out after dinner?” asked Tachibana. He turned to the maids. “Perhaps to get some snack? To walk outside?”
“No, I didn’t see him go out,” interrupted Shishido. “Choutarou and I were chatting by the Cross Room; we’d notice if he went out to get snacks or have a walk. Unless he jumped off the window, of course.”
“So there’s no suspect?” Kamio pointed out. “We don’t even know how he got poisoned—wait. Won’t the maids know?”
All of them immediately turned towards the flustered maids, who tittered nervously at the gazes directed at them. The butler, Katsura-san, moved forth and bowed respectfully. “If you’ll allow me, young masters, I could call on the entire staff to be present for questioning.”
“Please,” Oishi nodded, fidgeting uneasily in his seat. “And please notify us when Tezuka and the others call back.”
“Of course, young master,” bowed Katsura-san, ambling hastily towards the small group of maids and dishing hushed orders. The maids scuffled away in haste. “They will be down in a few minutes.”
“Ryoma!!”
“Syuusuke, Syuusuke, they have to take him—“
He chanced a glance into the room Ryoma was currently being wheeled into, and he blanched. The nurses ripped his shirt apart and pulled up the defibrillator. He could hear them counting, and one was spreading the gel over the flat surface of the defibrillator, and—
“No response.”
His heart ached. He didn’t know how he managed to bear seeing this. Ryoma’s back arched sharply as the electricity coursed through his body, trying to shock his heart into life.
“No response. Heart rate: zero.”
“No, Ryoma!”
Flailing, struggling arms hit his chest as he pulled Fuji against him and held him close. He forced Fuji’s face into his neck, drawing him away from the scene, trying his best to protect him from the pain. Soon enough, Fuji calmed down and simply remained limp in his arms, heaving heavily shaking breaths. There were no tears—tears weren’t enough.
Ryoma was dead.
“Syuusuke. Calm down,” he whispered softly into the other’s ear. “Calm down.” He could hear anguished cries from behind him—it had to be Kevin; Toushi was trying to calm him down as well—and he could see a frozen Nanjiroh standing stock still by the door; it was as if he were nothing more than a statue, as if he were not the mourning father he was supposed to be.
“H-How can you—“ Fuji choked into his neck unevenly. The first sob of the night came out. “H-How—K-Kunimitsu—he’s d-d—“
He stuttered to a halt, unable to continue any further, unable to bring himself to even utter the dreadful word.
Sitting there, looking pale under the pale hallway fluorescent lights, he tried his best to isolate himself from the current situation. He was alone; he was all alone. There was no one else.
“Sir, are you alright?” asked a gentle voice from his right.
He looked up slowly, his blurred vision registering a blue scrub suit on a female’s form. It was a nurse. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, I just… want to rest for a while.”
“Of course,” nodded the nurse. And then, out of nowhere, she handed him a cup of hot chocolate. She smiled, and Tezuka was cozily reminded of a mother, or of a caring older sister. “Chocolate always helps, sir. It’s not just for kids.”
Tezuka paused for one second, and then gave her a brief smile of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“It’s no problem, sir,” she laughed as she straightened up. “Your companions are currently talking to the doctor. They are arranging the necessary procedures. When you feel okay enough to join them, they will be in Lobby 4, just down the hallway and to the right.”
Tezuka nodded silently in response, holding the steaming mug of hot chocolate with both his hands. He stared blearily down at the brown liquid.
“Kuni-bu!” chirped a bright voice from behind him.
Turning in slight surprise, his face evened out into a smile as he caught sight of a scantily dressed Ryoma standing behind him. The younger player was wearing another one of those oversized shirts he scavenged from Tezuka’s closet, as well as an adorable little smile. He had his arms behind his back, holding something carefully as he tipped back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“Ryoma,” he smiled, putting his book down and slipping the bookmark between the pages. He gently set it down on the patio table and turned to the younger boy. “Why are you wearing that again?”
Ryoma pouted. “You’re gonna scold me again,” he mournfully muttered. Then he whined. “It’s too uncomfortable! I don’t want to wear anything else! And besides, we’re not going anywhere today; we’ll be staying here at the manor for the whole day anyway since it’s raining!”
Tezuka sighed in defeat, knowing that he had no chance of winning this particular argument; they’d done it millions of times, and not a single one instance did he ever win. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, and beckoned Ryoma to him. “What’s that behind your back?”
Ryoma grinned gleefully at this. He leapt forward and presented a steaming mug. “Hot chocolate with cinnamon! I made it for you.”
Tezuka looked down at the brown liquid in surprise. How Ryoma knew it was his favorite, he didn’t know. “You made it?” he asked dubiously. He knew that Ryoma was a disaster in the kitchen; he almost didn’t know the difference between a spoon and a fork. “Is the snack bar downstairs alright?”
Ryoma scowled, and grumpily placed the mug of hot chocolate on the table before Tezuka. He huffed, spun on his feet, and stomped his way to the bed, body slamming the poor piece of furniture and burrowing his head underneath one of the humongous body pillows Keigo had especially provided for him.
He remained motionless on the bed, until he heard a chuckle from the patio. “It’s good.”
And a hint of a smile graced his face.
Tezukashook his head. He knew thinking about that kind of thing wouldn’t help the situation; it would only worsen it. He struggled to find some means to stop himself from recalling all those memories he had stored inside his head. It seemed as if everything he saw, everything he felt, everything he heard—it would all come back down to him.
To Ryoma.
He sighed heavily, lifting the mug to his lips. He frowned at the taste.
Not good enough.
What in the world is happening here? Why isn’t Keigo answering my calls?
He walked out of the plane, lifting his stroller suitcase as he descended the metal staircase aligned against the open hatch of his private plane. One of the men clad in suits approached him, and he nodded to them smoothly, handing them his baggage. They directed him to a waiting limousine, and he slid in with ease.
He pulled his phone out of its leather case, which was strapped to his belt. He held it to his ear after speed dialing Yukiko. “Yukiko?” he gruffly spoke.
“Robert! Why are you calling so early in the morning? I thought you were on vacation!” the voice from the other line came. His eyes narrowed. Yukiko was on edge.
The limousine started moving. “I’m currently on my way to the Main Manor, Yukiko. I just arrived from Paris.”
“…to the Main Manor? What—why? I thought you were—“
“You mean you don’t know?” he asked in a hushed voice, hitting the mute button by the limousine’s window. He didn’t want the driver hearing this.
“Didn’t know what?! Robert, what is going on?! Ryoma’s been poisoned—it’s pure chaos in here—Keigo’s unsettled—for goodness’ sake, it’s five in the morning!”
“Keigo knows, Yukiko,” Robert cut her off worriedly. “Keigo and Yuushi both know. I don’t know if they’ve told anyone else, but they know. Everything.”
“…what are you talking about?”
“Sayo!” Robert hissed sharply. “They know who Toushi is, who Ryuuka is, who Syuusuke is! They know all of it! And what do you mean Ryoma’s been poisoned?!”
Yukiko struggled on the other line, completely at a loss on what to say. “He—oh—never mind! Meet me at the West Office in fifteen minutes, Robert—I’ll pass it on my way from the Manor. Miyagi’s out running errands to try and sort out this mess. I’m headed for the hospital; I’m with Rinko. Let’s just… we’ll talk about everything later. I’ll see you in a bit.”
As he walked towards the white car, he saw that neither Yukiko nor Rinko were up for niceties. The two seemed to have been through virtual hell. There was neither life nor warmth in Rinko’s eyes; they were dead and cold. Yukiko was a bit lighter and less frayed on the edges, but she too had the same atmosphere about her, as if someone had just died.
And so, Robert asked. (And tactlessly too, at that.)
“Did someone just die?” he asked gruffly as he got into the back seat.
Yukiko hissed sharply at him, and he wisely shut his mouth. “We’re going to the hospital,” Yukiko muttered silently, pulling out of the 10-minute parking slot and heading for the hospital. Miami was starting to stir; the sun was rising. “We’ll meet Keigo and Nanjiroh there. Ryoma’s been poisoned.”
Robert opened his mouth to ask, but Yukiko raised an arm to silence him. Robert grumbled and closed his mouth. “We know nothing, Robert. That’s why we’re going there; to find out what happened.”
All the while, Rinko said nothing. The other woman simply stared out of the car blankly, with those deadened, cold eyes. Robert cursed inwardly. This was not how things were supposed to happen. What was happening to the world? Why were the plans being totally messed up? How did Keigo and Yuushi find out?
He sighed and gave himself a slap over the back of the head.
Who did he think he was referring to? Keigo and Yuushi were smart young men—brilliant, in fact—perfect for inheriting the companies. Of course they’d figure it out.
He sighed again, putting his head in his hands. He should’ve known it would turn out this way. He should have somehow prepared for the day when everyone would find out. Now he was trapped in the middle, without any way out. And he could also consider this the end of his (almost nonexistent) relationship to his brother, Richard. This would wreck whatever he’d manage to salvage between the two of them; the revelation of his betrayal, of everything he’d done for Sayo, of everything he’d taken away from his own brother.
Then he started berating himself.
This was really not the time to be reflecting on his own mistakes and submerging himself into a guilt trip.
Soon enough, they arrived at the hospital. Yukiko quickly found parking space—no one was up yet, so the roads and parking lots were not crowded all that much—and the three of them strode forward to the looming pristine white building. He could hear the clacking of Rinko’s shoes quickening as they approached the swinging double doors; he knew that the woman was eager to know his son’s condition.
Yukiko didn’t even need to check with the desk; she simply strode into the threshold and headed for Lobby 4, where she knew the others were staying.
As soon as they entered the room, Rinko broke down.
“Nanjiroh!” she cried, flying into Nanjiroh’s arms. The coach simply held her silently, not saying a single word as she sobbed her heart out.
The atmosphere inside the room was morose.
Keigo was standing off by the window, looking out blankly, while Yuushi was leaning against the wall beside him. He recognized Kevin, and—he gaped—Toushi; the two of them were leaning against each other tiredly, as if they’d just undergone an intense psychological torture session and they’d barely survived with their minds intact. There was one young man he didn’t recognize, but he did recognize the pale brown hair nestled within the unnamed young man’s arms—Syuusuke.
A rush of breath left his lungs.
No wonder they figured it out.
“Well? What happened?” demanded Yukiko, placing a hand on her hip. Robert knew that pose. He knew that when that pose was on, there was no stopping the Atobe matriarch.
He found himself a comfortable seat near Syuusuke—who remained motionless within the bespectacled young man’s arms—and settled in to listen to another story as Yuushi slowly unpeeled himself from the wall to face Yukiko, taking on himself the duty to tell the story since he was the only one who was capable enough to do so.
“No! Ryoma!”
Yuushi struggled to calm Keigo, who was flailing about just as violently as Fuji was. He saw, from the corner of his eyes, Toushi and Tezuka doing the same thing with their own charges. Kevin was giving wailing, anguished cries as attempts of resuscitation failed and failed again. He saw Fuji crumple within Tezuka’s embrace, and he saw the Seigaku captain struggle to maintain hold on his own emotions, whispering calming words into Fuji’s unheeding ears.
The doors to the Emergency Room swung close just as Ryoma was given a third shock from the defibrillator. If anything, he was thankful that none of them would have to see the doctors do whatever they had to do to save Ryoma. Seeing the teen lifeless and limp was more than enough of a trauma. He dreaded the extremes to which Keigo’s protectiveness would escalate to after this dilemma they had, and he pitied the poor pet for being Keigo’s favorite doting toy.
He watched as Keigo went straight for the wall and leaned his forehead against the cool concrete. One nurse approached him and started asking questions regarding the patient’s case, and Tezuka helped along, since no one else was capable of answering. Nanjiroh was reduced to a helpless statue now sitting motionless by the door.
The rest of the unbearable thirty minutes they had to wait he spent observing. He stood by one corner, taking care of the procedures with the nurses until someone else regained coherency to do so in his stead. He watched Keigo pace hopelessly in front of the room’s door, while Kevin was echoing his steps by one corner.
They had rushed Ryoma in at roughly four in the morning, and now it was already nearing 4:30. He wouldn’t dare show it, but he himself was starting to get unsettled.
And that was when the doors swung open once more.
He was quite old, but not that much; he had a receding hairline, graying hair, and the other common symptoms of aging. However, he looked quite respectable with his framed eyeglasses, black stethoscope, and that immaculate air of intelligence that he carried with him.
The only thing that was somehow off in the image was the haunted look in his eyes, as if someone had died.
He looked up as Keigo approached expectantly. “Are you the relatives?”
“Yes, yes, we are,” Keigo hurriedly nodded. There was fear and apprehension in his eyes. “How… how is it?”
“…I’m sorry, but we did everything we could have done,” the doctor solemnly said, bowing his head as if offering a deep apology. Right at that moment, Yuushi couldn’t help but wonder what possessed these people to take up such a job that required them to be the bearer of death, and to be subject to the blame from a deceased patient’s family, however irrational it may be.
And he couldn’t help but admire them, also. He knew that if it was him, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the truth, especially if that look on Keigo’s face was on the face of every single expectant parent or sibling or lover or son he would face.
Keigo charged into the Emergency Room.
“KEIGO!” he yelled after his friend, catching Keigo’s arm and pulling him back.
“NO! ORE-SAMA WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS!” screamed Keigo. He was positively waking up the entire block (or three). “RYOMA IS NOT DEAD! RYOMA CAN’T BE DEAD!”
Yuushi’s heart would have wrenched, had Keigo not been making an entire fool of himself. “Keigo, look—“
"NO! O’ ALL YOU HOSTS OF HEAVEN!' (1) ORE-SAMA WILL PERSONALLY WRENCH YOU DOWN FROM YOUR HITCHING POSTS IF NEED BE TO RIGHT THIS WRONG! IF ORE-SAMA NEEDS TO SUBSTITUTE FOR RYOMA'S LIFE, GIVE ORE-SAMA A VICTIM!" He made a lunge for the nearest bloody scalpel as if to emphasize his point.
“Keigo!! Mind yourself!” snapped Yuushi, trying to calm the thrashing, flailing Keigo. “Keigo! Look—”
“ORE-SAMA WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! ORE-SAMA DEMANDS ORE-SAMA’S RYOMA BACK!!” he screeched. He was done with pretenses. He swung his arms out and hit one of the nurses up under the chin, and kicked Yuushi’s knee sharply with his heel. The nurse knocked backwards into the doctor they’d just been talking to, who was trying to figure out what in the world was happening. Yuushi’s knees buckled slightly and he growled, promising to himself that he’d bruise Keigo’s knee later as well.
Unnoticed, Fuji and Tezuka slipped past them towards the bed by the corner.
“ORE-SAMA WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS, FOR ORE-SAMA’S WORD IS ULTIMATE! ORE-SAMA WILL NOT ALLOW IT!” Keigo continued to screech his head off like a banshee giving birth. Yuushi placed a hand against his forehead. “ORE-SAMA DOES NOT BELIEVE THIS—ALL OF YOU ARE A BUNCH OF TRYING HARD, SECOND-RATE—”
Yuushi groaned, thanking whatever gods Keigo were damning that the other nurses and doctors didn’t understand the Japanese gibberish Keigo was babbling.
“—COPYCATS! GIVE ME BACK MY RYOMAAAA!”
“Goddammit, Monkey, shut the hell up!” roared a voice from the bed.
“SEE?!? YOU ALL ARE GODDAMN COPYCATS! ORE-SAMA CAN STILL HEAR RYOMA’S VOICE, BECAUSE RYOMA’S NOT—”
Silence.
“…dead? R-Ryoma?” he repeated.
The entire Emergency Room, including the neighboring deceased patient’s family, was deathly silent. Even the machines seemed to stop working to make way for Keigo’s four in the morning epiphany.
“RYOMA!” screamed Keigo, shoving another nurse aside—the poor guy’s nose rammed into the wall and broke—and throwing himself over his beloved Ryoma.
“Oww,” groaned Ryoma weakly, coughing as he rasped. His voice was faint, but there was a heartbeat. There was warmth, there was breath; there was life. “Goddamned Monkey can’t shut up,” he grumbled. “Why is it that every time I’m hospitalized, you execute a stage play that features you and your fucking dulcet tones that grate on my ears?”
Keigo blankly stared at Ryoma, and then blurted out, “Why aren’t you stupid?”
Silence.
“Huh?”
“Your neurons die after a certain period of time without oxygen,” Keigo stated, as if it was the most normal thing to say to someone you’d thought was dead the first time you talk to them again. “So why aren’t you stupid?”
“Well, if you don’t count that nurse Keigo rammed into the wall, sure, no one died,” deadpanned Yuushi.
“He did not die and I did not…’ram’ into him, as you so inaptly phrased,” Keigo sniffed indignantly, pouting like an offended child. “Besides, it was the nose’s fault for being in the way of the wall.”
“…are you sure you didn’t hit your head on a wall too, Keigo?” Kevin muttered from his corner incredulously.
“Never mind him,” Yuushi waved dismissively. “He’s always like that anyways. It’s probably just aggravated by acute post-psychological trauma aftershock.”
Robert didn’t know whether he should gape openly at the immaturity Keigo was showing, or to simply dissolve into a puddle of laughter. As such, he simply dismissed this issue and moved on to the next. Just like those math teachers say, when assaulted with too difficult a problem, move on to the next one and simply go back to the previous later to maximize time.
“You haven’t answered my question yet,” Robert said flatly. “Why are you all mourning?”
“Ryoma was put into a medicine-induced coma to pull out the rest of the poison that might have spread to his internal organs through the lymphatic vessels, Uncle Robert,” Fuji relayed silently, speaking for the first time since they’d taken Ryoma into the ICU. “The doctors say that they’d managed to pull out quite a lot, so there’s a possibility that none of it managed to damage much, but…”
Kevin’s face crumpled as Fuji trailed off. Toushi picked up for Fuji, continuing softly, “…the poison might have damaged some tissue in the neighboring torso muscles. If that did happen, he would have a really hard time to recover fast enough for the tournaments—no, actually, depending on which muscles are damaged, he might even be permanently disabled, never able to play tennis ever again.”
Deathly silence permeated the room after this statement.
They all knew how precious tennis was to Ryoma; they shared the same passion, after all. Losing tennis would be like dying for the young man. He’d known nothing but tennis his entire life. Tennis was his life.
Nanjiroh’s eyes were dark and unreadable as he held a horrified Rinko. Out of all of them, he was probably the one experiencing the most profound pain. As a father and an idol for Ryoma, he’d molded the boy’s future for tennis. He’d taught his son—he gave his son the one single thing he had in this superficial world. He really had nothing else to give to the boy; he had money, but what good would that do? Fame would fade away after time, and it wouldn’t help his son any better than money would. He wasn’t all that smart; that was Rinko’s area.
Tennis was really the only thing he could give as an inheritance to Ryoma. Seeing it taken away from his son forcefully by something like this…
“He’ll pull through,” Tezuka firmly stated. “I know he will.”
The same fervor burning inside Ryoma’s eyes whenever he saw Tezuka had somehow transported itself into Tezuka’s eyes instead.
Fuji rushed to Ryoma’s bedside and grabbed the limp hand. He smiled. It was limp, but warm. As if mentally willing the poison to leave Ryoma’s body alone on its own accord, Fuji sat down and gazed at Ryoma’s face with a steady, hard stare. He promised on his love for Ryoma that he’d find whoever did this and make sure that whoever it was, he or she would experience the worst terror they could in their entire life. (And he made sure to exclude leaving them whole in his mental promise. He really didn’t want to break any promises to Ryoma, even though they were uttered without him knowing them.)
The doctor standing by the door was speaking in calm and reassuring tones, but the voice didn’t really reach him.
“It was a slow-acting poison that he most probably ingested hours prior to when you found him—around dinnertime, I’d wager,” the doctor explained silently. “I’m not surprised you thought he was dead; this particular poison very slowly lowers heartbeat—you wouldn’t be able to sense it using normal physical means if it has dropped low enough. However, when you’d arrived here, his heart was already receding into tachycardia—that is, it wasn’t beating properly anymore; it was just having spasms instead of solid beats.”
Yuushi and Nanjiroh conversed with the doctor for a few more minutes, and then the doctor left them to themselves, bidding them a good day. A hand landed on Fuji’s shoulder gently. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
“He’s going to be fine, isn’t he?” Fuji murmured silently, pressing his lips against the now warm palm he was holding.
“He’s strong, Syuusuke,” Tezuka murmured back, however unnecessary. They both knew this, but they both needed reassurance. Somehow, saying the words pushed a little bit more certainty into the statement.
“Even strong ones fall,” Fuji smiled gently. He didn’t say anything further than that; he didn’t need to. Tezuka squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, and started to settle down beside him.
“I suggest you start getting ready to leave, Fuji,” Yuushi said from behind them silently.
Fuji didn’t move an inch from his spot, while Tezuka merely leveled a questioning gaze—bordering on a glare—at Yuushi. Ryoma almost died; couldn’t they be granted some time with him?
“Fuji,” called Keigo from the hallway. The Atobe heir seemed to have recovered completely from his prior hysteria, and no trace of the earlier scandal was visible on his now cold, stony countenance. Tezuka did a double-take. Keigo still seemed to be worked up about something. “You’ll want to do what Yuushi says.”
“And who are you to tell us what to do?” Fuji challenged in a frigid tone. His eyes narrowed, but he had yet to move from his spot.
“Trust me, Fuji, you’ll want to hear this,” Keigo insisted, matching Fuji’s retort with his own steely tone. His eyebrows knotted together. “Mother and Rinko-oba-san will stay with Ryoma. Nan-ji-chan, you’ll have to come with us too. This is really important.”
Fuji turned to level a scalding glare on Keigo, but the glare faltered slightly at the look of complete sincerity and grim determination on the other’s face. The seriousness with which he spoke darkened his eyes considerably. It seemed the issue really was quite weighty if Keigo was being like this.
Tezuka reluctantly released his hold on Fuji’s shoulder. “Syuusuke,” he prompted the tensia. Fuji was looking at Ryoma with longing, but he sighed and stood up anyway. Placing a small kiss on the sleeping teen’s forehead, he moved after Atobe. “I’ll take care of him. He’ll still be here when you come back later,” Tezuka promised. Fuji simply nodded blankly as they exited the room and closed the door behind them, leaving an unsettled Yukiko and a quite curious Rinko with a sleeping Ryoma.
As soon as they were out of the hospital, Fuji turned sharply and bore down on Keigo. “Atobe Keigo. For your wellbeing and mine, this had better be worth leaving Ryoma behind,” he hissed into Keigo’s face lividly.
Keigo simply closed his eyes and accepted the threat gracefully, heading towards the waiting limousine. He knew how much he was asking of Fuji by telling him that he had to leave Ryoma while the young man was in this state.
But it had to be done.
“You won’t be disappointed, Fuji. In fact, this might just be enough to wipe Ryoma from your mind even just for a full five minutes.”
“How’s Ryoma?” Oishi called after Fuji, who replied with a silent ‘fine’. The rest of the players were left with befuddled but somehow relieved looks behind them as the group moved out of the hall and into the hallway that would lead to Keigo’s secure and soundproof study.
Kevin gripped Toushi’s arm as they walked. He had a feeling that this somehow involved his boyfriend, given that Ryuuka—he knew that Ryuuka was Toushi’s father—was also coming with them to the office. He wondered why the Atobe head of clan was not present, but waved it off. Of course Miyagi had other business-related problems to deal with. Today was just another ordinary working day, after all.
However, as he moved into the office, he did a double-take. Miyagi was already seated by Keigo’s table, waiting quite impatiently for them. The patriarch looked like he knew something about what was to be discussed, yet raised an eyebrow as he saw Robert file in. He stood and moved forward, opening his arms and catching Robert in an embrace.
“And what pulls you out of your hole in Paris?” Miyagi asked jokingly.
“Ah, well, your son has quite the knack for pulling Parisian moles out of their holes,” shrugged Robert. “He says he has some things he wants to talk about which concern all of us.”
“Yes, yes, I do,” Keigo’s voice overrode the room. He slammed the door shut, and there was a near-silent click as the lock engaged. With a few well-practiced taps on the security pad by the door, all the cameras shut down, as well as all security precautions placed on the room. “Please turn off all phones; we don’t want this escaping when we’re not ready.”
“Honestly, Keigo, what could be so important for me to—“”
Keigo cut his father off, “Trust me, father, this is very important.” A single serious look from Keigo, and Miyagi caved in. He hated it when Keigo was in his dominant mood; the heir allowed no one to stand in his way. Not even those above him. And while this was a good trait in foresight, it could also become a weakness an opponent can exploit.
“So, then, tell us what you pulled Robert out of his hidey hole in Paris for, Keigo,” Miyagi demanded as he turned off his phone and flipped it shut. Around him, phones beeped as they shut down one by one.
When Keigo had ascertained everybody had turned off their phones, his full-force glare bore down on Robert. “We’ll start there then. Paris.”
Robert’s eyes tightened.
“Isn’t it curious that both Toushi and Fuji know you quite intimately, Uncle Robert?” Keigo started, his eyes narrowing as he started to cross-analyze the situation he was slowly unfolding. He felt like he was the writer and this was his scene; he felt as if he was a conductor and this was his melody. He was pulling the strings; it was the best and highest delight. “Fuji, who grew up in a completely ordinary Japanese family—granted, he was quite segregated from normal children because of his gifts; nevertheless, it was still an ordinary Japanese background. He was just one of the smart ones.” Keigo turned towards Toushi. “And then there’s Toushi; very well-exposed due to having to grow up all over the world with his father, who is a world-class award-winning photographer whom you just happened to know!”
Ryuuka blanched. This conversation is bad.
“What are you getting at, Atobe?” Fuji hissed. “Ryoma is in critical condition right now—I don’t have the time for dilly dally—“
“If you go now, Fuji, you will never know who you really are,” Keigo stated in a dead tone, leveling a flat gaze on Fuji’s blazing eyes. “You will never know who your real mother and father are; you will never know how you came to be a ‘Fuji’ and not a ‘Lent’. You will never know who your real blood relatives are; who your real younger brother is.”
Fuji’s eyes widened, along with Kevin’s and Toushi’s. “What are you saying…?”
“If you want to know, then stay put and listen,” Keigo snapped sharply. He turned back to Robert. “Let’s do this the easier way,” he said, pausing for a bit and bowing his head, as if thinking of what to say. “Uncle Robert. I know that you—along with a few more people who may or may not know about how the entire thing connects—kept this guarded secret for sixteen years for a reason. It must be a good one to convince an honest man like you to lie like this. But now that the secret is out, I want you to tell the truth.”
Robert frowned, dipping his head low.
“Uncle Robert, tell me: did Aunt Sayo get pregnant somewhere between 1985 and 1986 with her first child—that is, Yusuke?” Keigo asked slowly and carefully, trying to make sure that everyone was understanding what he was saying.
Robert closed his eyes tightly.
“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, she did. She was pregnant with Lent-Shimizu Yusuke—her and Richard’s first born—and she gave birth to Yusuke on the 29th of February 1986. That would make Yusuke 21 years old today.”
“Did she take good care of him?”
“Yes, she did,” Robert answered solemnly. His tone was telling of conflicting feelings; of relief that he was able to relieve himself of the burden he’s been carrying, and of worry of what would happen next. “She loved the child very much. They both did—her and Richard. At least, for the first four-and-a-half years.”
“Explain,” Keigo demanded. This part he was eager to hear.
Robert sighed heavily, sinking into the chair nearby. He leaned against the backrest and took a deep, steadying breath. “He was a very quiet child. Yusuke was very quiet; very smart, yes—we could see he was going to be nothing short of a genius when he grew up, but he was very introverted and very unsociable, except to a few select people—one of them being Sayo. At first, we only saw it as normal; Sayo had an introverted streak about her as well, see. So we attributed it to that, and let it go.
“But Richard didn’t see it that way,” he frowned. “Richard was being judgmental, and at the same time, he was being a good father; he was worried for his son. He wanted to know if there was something wrong, because it looked like something was definitely wrong. So he brought Yusuke to a famous children’s psychiatrist. The child was four then—he was a tiny child, absolutely adorable, and frighteningly smart. He could talk in straight sentences and write very legibly by that age. He could even perform some mathematics.
“The psychiatrist saw nothing essentially wrong with him at first,” Robert continued, fiddling with the mantelpiece covering the table before him. “He was smart, albeit a bit shy; that was common in children. But that was until one day, when Yusuke’s winds all of a sudden changed drastically. It was as if he was a completely different person; I remember Richard saying that his eyes were rather different that day. Yusuke had turned vicious and terribly aggressive; he started bullying some of the kids in his daycare, while he was under observation of the psychiatrist.
“Of course, if you’d view it in a wider perspective, the other kids were bullying him first, so he had the right to fight back in self-defense. However, ‘fighting back’ isn’t Yusuke! He was all about retreating and going to his own corner and resuming his work; he never fought back! So this was where the psychiatrist’s interest was piqued. The focus shifted, and soon enough, Yusuke was diagnosed with chronic bipolar disorder,” Robert finished with a sigh. “This devastated Richard—his first born, chronically ill! But he—Richard—noticed that Sayo wasn’t surprised. In all truth, Sayo also has chronic bipolar disorder; Yusuke simply inherited it.”
“And knowing this, Richard got mad,” Ryuuka muttered silently from where he was sitting, mouth covered by his interlaced fingers he was holding up to his chin. “Richard started abusing Sayo and Yusuke—he claims he never really meant any of it, but I know better. After only three months, Sayo couldn’t bear any more of it, and took Yusuke to Seattle, where I accompanied them. There, she settled for an entire year. There, she got pregnant with Toushi.”
Toushi chose that time to take a terribly shuddering breath, biting his lip. This was a huge admission for Ryuuka, who had never even once mentioned knowing Sayo as intimately as he did. No one even suspected of an affair; and to think that Toushi was the fruit of an affair…
“I don’t think I have to explain how love works here,” Ryuuka chuckled wryly. “I’m pretty sure all of us don’t need love workshops. And I’m no good a teacher anyway; I’m a bumbling idiot who made many mistakes. But one thing I know is that I don’t regret—we don’t regret—having had Toushi come into our lives.” He reached over to Toushi, who was sitting beside him, and cuffed the back of the teen’s head affectionately. “He’s a good kid; a loved child, like Sayo used to say.”
Toushi smiled a faint smile at his father, still shaken from the outright revelation. He’d always known it, but somehow, it was different hearing it directly from his father’s lips.
“The night Toushi was born—August 25th—was a very eventful night,” Robert continued explaining. “I can’t even begin to put into words how I almost crumpled under the pressure that night. But somehow, I knew that I had to go through with it.” He sipped a bit of water from the glass that was on the table. “You see, Richard knew that Sayo was pregnant. He thought it was his—Richard’s—and not Ryuuka’s. He does visit Sayo in Seattle—”
“Not the nicest of nights, those ones,” muttered Ryuuka darkly, his hands clenching in anger.
“—and so, there were chances of her getting pregnant with Richard’s child,” Robert picked up as if Ryuuka hadn’t spoken at all. “But extensive testing showed that the child was Ryuuka’s. We all wanted to make sure, so we could plan the steps; Richard would kill the child if it was not his. In actuality, Sayo wasn’t due until the tenth of October, but the added pressure had forced her into labor.”
“Added pressure of what?” Keigo sharply asked.
“Added pressure of having her first born—Yusuke—kidnapped,” Robert corrected himself. “Yusuke had gone missing early that morning; we were all in panic. Sayo had called Richard about it, and so Richard started ‘searching’ as well. The day went on; no sign of Yusuke. Soon enough, Sayo gave into labor, and we took her to the hospital, with promises of finding Yusuke. Around five in the early evening, Richard called and informed us that Yusuke had been kidnapped; it did nothing but worsen Sayo’s condition.
“While Sayo was giving birth—Ryuuka kept her company instead of Richard—I asked Richard if there was any way we could steal Yusuke back. Richard kept evading my questions—I attributed it to his being panicked that time. But then I heard a faint humming tune through the phone in the background, a soft humming that Richard probably didn’t pay attention to in his act,” Robert said. “The tune was Pachelbel’s Canon in D. It was a tune Yusuke was attached to and loved to hum. That was when it all clicked; it was a trap. Richard had planned it from the beginning; he wanted to get rid of Yusuke since a new child was on the way—a ‘healthier’ child, more fit to inherit and lead. He still thought Toushi was his and not Ryuuka’s.
“So I left Yukiko with Ryuuka and Sayo, and I rushed to my car. Richard controlled a part of a cartel here in Miami that has branches all over the United State. But I have some… contacts within his network, and with quite a large bribe, they agreed to go behind Richard’s back and steal Yusuke away. They’d told me about the plan; they would leave Yusuke inside and detonate the bomb planted inside the wharf they were in. So it went as planned; when Richard set off to ‘pretend’ he was searching, they stole Yusuke away and detonated the bomb on time. They met me and gave me Yusuke; I immediately hid him in my car. He was a smart kid, and he followed all my instructions.
“I rushed back to the hospital—I was too late, though. Richard had told Sayo that Yusuke had died, and with severe depression, she died on her birthing bed,” Robert stopped here. There was a long silence, in which they all were thoughtful. “And then after that, it was a blur of escape. I took Ryuuka and the baby—Toushi—and Yusuke. I brought them to the airport, and sent them to Paris. Yukiko knew of this, and so did Miyagi. All of this. When Richard came back, we told him the child and the mother had died due to birth complications.”
“And so you now have Yusuke, Toushi, and Ryuuka in Paris,” Keigo nodded. “And it so happens that Fuji Ichiro, and long time friend of yours, and his entire family, were still staying in Paris, correct?”
“No,” Fuji immediately said in horror. “No… what are you saying?”
Toushi was frozen stiff in his seat, while Ryuuka had his face buried in his hands. Robert’s head was bowed, and he showed no indication of a willingness to speak further. Keigo granted him that bit of reprise; he’d spoken enough for tonight.
Keigo looked Fuji straight in the eye, and said with pure honesty, “You, Fuji Syuusuke, were formerly known as Lent-Shimizu Yusuke. You were brought to Paris at the age of five, and when you were given to the Fuji family for adoption, they changed your name and age on your birth certificate. You were then known as Fuji Syuusuke, second child to the Fuji family, age two.”
“…t-that’s impossible,” Fuji stuttered, backing away and running right against the wall behind him. How he wish those warm arms of Tezuka would wrap around him again. “…I’m… I can’t be…”
“But you are,” Keigo solemnly said. “You are my first-degree cousin, legal heir to the Lent family. You are Toushi’s older half-brother. Robert is your uncle in law; Richard is your father. Sayo is your mother. And, by the way, you aren’t eighteen years old. Not really. You’re twenty-one.”
Tsuzuku
(Revised Edition)
IMPORTANT NOTICE:
For those who want to see the “crack” versions of 32.1 and 32.2 of OS, go to my profile. It’s under the “One Step” area; just scroll down. XDXD I promise you’ll enjoy reading the crackier versions, complete with our comments, the colors, highlights, cross-outs, first drafts, jokes, and what-not. XDXD Also, there are custom-made family trees for you. Links are posted in my profile page. Go there and go see if you’re confused about the Atobe family relations.
--;; I am SO gonna be late tomorrow again. Ledamns. RAWR!! AND THAT’S CHEMISTRY TOMORROW!!! YOU READERS’ FAULTS! IT’S 02.05 IN THE DAMNED MORNING AND I STILL AM NOT IN BED!! (9.18)
Edit: And again, it is 1.50 AM and I am still not in bed. (9.19) --;; See how hard I work for you guys???
Edit(2): ……………………still ain’t in bed. And it’s 2.28 AM.
Kiasidira Ixari / Aventria
Draft: 09.18.07
First Revision: 09.18.07
Crack-otated: 09.20.07
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