Author's Note: Finally after over a year and four stressful rewrites, I bring you chapter 18. The results ended up being something entirely different than I have planned, and I can only hope that you guys will like it. That is if most of you are even still around and interested in this story anymore. I get the feeling that I've lost most of my readers after such a long hiatus. :p As a side note, there's now also a prologue for this story in case you didn't catch it when I updated the fic a few days ago. Chapter 1 and 2 have also been rewritten and the rest of the chapters up to 9 is currently under the process of revision. I hope you will find these changes good. :)

---

Pictures on the Wall
by Téa

Chapter 18: Defining Moments

Nishimura Tomo watched his cousin's fingers come to an abrupt halt as they landed on the cold metal of the door handle. They had only just arrived at the outdoor parking lot nearby the tea shop and were still sitting in his car. Silently, he turned to open his own door and sensed her jump slightly at the sudden sound that invaded the quiet interior of the car.

Suppressing a sigh, Mo climbed out of the car and turned around to lock his door when he found her staring at him from across the roof of the car. She looked as though she wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words. He met her eyes briefly before she averted her gaze and lifted her hand to run her fingers through her hair, the action not so much to tame her hair but rather a need to do something. He noticed her hands trembling, and it pained him to see her so vulnerable.

"Nao," he called out softly. When she looked up at him, he turned his eyes towards the tea shop and said, "It'll be okay."

He didn't turn around to see the emotions that he knew would flit across her face. Instead, Mo only waited quietly until she took the step forward to come to him. And when she did, he moved to take her hand in his. Then as they walked hand in hand towards the tea shop, he looked down at her and said, "The worst is over, you know?"

Nao nodded, but he didn't think she believed him.

---

Ishida Nao saw her mother the instant they stepped into the tea shop. The soft bells of the door opening made her mother turn as well, and they seemed to have spotted each other at the same moment. Her mother started a little as though she didn't really expect Nao to show, but before Nao could properly react, she felt Mo take her arm.

"Come on," he said. "Your mother's waiting over there."

Nao struggled to keep her face neutral as Mo pulled her along towards her mother's table by the window on the far corner of the tea shop. She was vaguely aware of Mo inclining his head in a respectful bow, but then he suddenly turned around and nudged her forward.

Stumbling a little from the unexpected movement, Nao straightened up and found herself staring down at her mother. She had intended to glare at her, but somehow unable to as their eyes met. She took in the dark circles under her mother's eyes that no amount of make-up could conceal and had the sudden urge to look away in shame. She had been so absorbed with wallowing in her own problems that she barely paid any attention to how her mother had been doing. And judging by what Mo had said, she had a feeling that things had been hard for her mother as well.

With a defeated sigh, Nao sat down and looked up at Mo when she found him still standing. "Aren't you going to sit?"

Mo surprised her by shaking his head. "I think you both need this time alone." When it looked like Nao was about to protest, he added, "Besides, I have something I need to do right now. I'll be back to pick you up later."

With a brief nod at his aunt, Mo patted Nao's shoulders and walked away towards the exit. She turned to stare at Mo forlornly, watching him slip past the door as though willing him to return. Nao was aware of her mother's gaze but couldn't bring herself to turn back to face the situation that sat before her.

"Nao." Her mother's voice was soft, almost beckoning, but Nao remained unmoving.

There was a short pause, and then her mother asked, "Do you want to order anything to drink? Or eat?" Her mother reached over and touched her hand. "You haven't had anything to eat all day, have you?"

Nao didn't know why, but hearing the concern in her mother's voice somehow made her feel utterly betrayed. Squeezing her eyes shut for a brief moment, she snatched her hand away and finally turned to look at her mother.

"Why didn't you tell me I have a brother?" Her voice rang flat, almost accusingly. Nao watched her mother's stunned face crumble before her eyes as the question hung between them. Then flinching slightly, her mother looked away as though she had just been slapped.

Nao watched her mother staring out the window, visibly trying to pull herself together. For a moment, Nao almost wished she could take back what she had said. And just when she felt as though she could no longer bear the heavy silence that surrounded them, her mother finally spoke.

"I wasn't allowed to." Her mother's voice was quiet as she let her words settle in. Then turning away from the window, she looked at Nao and softly said, "I gave up the right to talk about him when I agreed to send him away."

---

Kurosawa Isao pushed the door open and immediately shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun. The staircase he had been climbing was dark, and he had to blink a few times to allow his eyes time to adjust before he walked out on to the roof of the old building. Rounding the corner, he spotted his friend leaning against the railing and staring out at the spread of buildings that surrounded them.

Without turning around, his friend casually commented, "The view hasn't changed much, has it?"

Isao walked up and stood next to his friend for a quiet moment as they both took in the view of the city. Placing a hand on the rail, he agreed, "No, I suppose not."

Being back there was bringing back old memories of a time when five friends had often hung out together, experiencing carefree childhood days. Apparently, his friend must've been thinking the same thing.

"Remember when we had that barbecue here and Satoshi burned his eyebrows off trying to get the fire to work?"

The corner of Isao's lips lifted. "Yea, who could forget that. We had to listen to him grumble about it for weeks before they finally grew back."

His friend chuckled a little, then he sobered up and quietly said, "I never did get to see them grow back."

Isao turned away from the railing to lean his back against it and took the moment to survey the rest of the roof. He had left school, intent on speaking to Shun when he suddenly received a call from Tomo asking to meet him alone. It felt rather strange to be there after so many years, and he idly wondered again as to the significance of his friend's choice in meeting there. After all, the last time all five of them were together was on this roof.

Throwing his head back to look up at the sky, Isao finally replied, "You know, for the longest time, we were pretty mad that you left without telling any of us." Pausing a little, he added, "You never did tell us why either."

Isao felt, rather than saw, his friend shrug. "Would you believe me if I told you I didn't know I wasn't coming back when I left?" Then as though Mo didn't care to hear the answer, he straightened up and said, "I suppose it's all moot now anyway. Why I left and why I didn't come back were two separate issues anyhow."

He waited for Mo to elaborate, but when it looked like that wasn't going to happen, he sighed and asked, "Tomo, was there a reason you asked me to meet you here?"

Mo turned and looked at him then. Eyeing the rather large bruise on Isao's face, he frowned slightly. "I'm not going to apologize for that." When Isao's eyes narrowed at the response, Mo met them evenly and said, "You were protecting Hideo."

Isao gave his friend an incredulous look. "What? I wasn't protecting Namura. I was trying to stop you from killing someone!"

Mo's face twisted in anger before he retorted spitefully, "You should've let me kill that bastard then."

Isao shook his head wearily. "Now you're being unreasonable, Tomo." When Mo didn't respond, he pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Are you even going to tell me why?"

For a moment, several conflicting emotions flashed across Mo's face as though he couldn't decide which one to settle on. Isao didn't think it could be any more apparent, the gap between them as friends that now existed, as he watched him. It used to be that Isao could read Mo the best among all their friends. They were always the closest after all. Now, after three years, he found that he could no longer be sure of what went on inside his friend's head.

He looked on as Mo, seemingly closed off, began walking along the railing of the roof. Reaching a small ledge to the side, Mo bent down to settle himself against it. Then leaning back on his elbows, he squinted at the sky and suddenly asked, "Don't you ever get tired of it, Isao?"

Isao had been walking up to where Mo now sat and the unexpected question made him pause. Before he could even properly decipher the question, Mo spoke up again.

"You know, people like us..." Then chuckling, Mo shook his head. "I really shouldn't be saying us. I'm no longer a part of it after all."

Isao frowned but said nothing. Mo turned, seeming to study him. Then he said, "Well, you know what I'm talking about. The people of the high society." Shrugging, he continued, "The ones with money and the ones without...the lines are always there. Even among the ones who have money, there's that differentiation between new money and old money, who has more and who has less..."

Isao stood, looking down at Mo. He wasn't sure where his friend was going with all this talk, but he sat down all the same. Staring straight ahead, he waited for Mo to continue.

"No one talks about it, but we all know how it works. People outside the high society are always saying how money doesn't matter and how important things like friendship should never be defined by money. But we know different, don't we?" Mo gave a short laugh then. "In the high society, money is everything and those who try to say otherwise only make themselves look like hypocrites. You have money, then you have everything. If you have enough, it'll even buy you friends and love."

Isao turned to stare at his friend with that last comment. He couldn't decide if Mo was being sarcastic or not, but he could no longer stay silent. "When did you become this cynical, Tomo?"

Mo only laughed again at the question. "How do you think we all ended up being friends? You, me, Satoshi, Shun, and Kanjirou?" Then waving his hand in dismissal, he said, "If you think it wasn't money that brought us together, then you're only lying to yourself."

Mo seemed to let his declaration hang in the air, as though allowing Isao to let it all sink. Somehow, Isao only found himself getting annoyed. In a quiet voice tensed with underlying anger, he asked, "Is that what you think of our friendship now, Tomo? After going away and giving up your name, do you think yourself better than all of us now?"

Mo only looked away and said, "You still don't get it, do you?"

The expression on Isao's face darkened. "You're right, I don't get it." With his jaw clenched tightly, he took a deep breath. Then glancing sideways, he said, "You've changed, you know? I don't know what happened after you left Japan, but I find it really disappointing."

When Mo didn't respond, Isao continued, "I'm almost glad that the rest of them aren't here to listen to you." Shaking his head in disgust, he retorted, "What utter bullshit. You left without a word and now that you're back, you throw this on me and insult all of us by saying that our friendship is based on money. What the hell has gotten into you?"

For the first time in their conversation, Mo seemed almost sorry. But still, he said, "Isao, all five of our families sat at the topmost of our society. It wasn't by chance that we became friends, and even you should realize that by now. Think about it. Why did we never play with other people as children? It's always been just the five of us."

Isao sighed then and ran his agitated fingers through his hair. "You may be right that we became friends by status. But I would like to think that we've long gone past that." Pausing a little, he added, "I thought you felt the same."

Mo seemed to be deep in thought, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then standing up, he walked up to the railing again and leaned forward to look at the street down below. Tightening his fist on the bars of the railing, he conceded, "I suppose you're right. We did go past that."

Sensing that it wasn't the end of the conversation as Mo had made it seem, Isao narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the stiffness in the way his friend stood. Sure enough, Mo quietly asked, "What do you think would've happened if one of our families suddenly had a downfall back in those years?"

Isao frowned. He understood right away, the implications of Mo's question. Refusing to take the bait, he took a different route and replied, "You're here now, stripped of your Nishimura title. It doesn't change anything."

Mo shook his head and turned around. "That's really not the same, Isao. I gave up the strings that attached me to my name." Leaning back against the railing, he looked down at his childhood best friend. "You know, even now, people are still wary of me because by birthright, I am a Nishimura. I may be scorned by the people of high society, but they're still cautious around me because my name alone still holds power. So you see, it's not the same at all."

Isao tilted his head up to meet Mo's stare evenly and firmly stated, "Even so, it wouldn't have made a difference to us. You should know that by now."

A faraway look shadowed Mo's face for a short moment, and then he nodded. "That would be the best, of course."

"But you don't believe it," Isao shot back.

Sighing, Mo merely replied, "I only hate to think of what would happen if it were tested." Closing his eyes, he said in a tired voice, "You'll do well to remember what you said if, God forbid, something like this should ever come up."

---

Out of all possible things Nao could've said, Ishida Sayuri had not expected her to ask about her brother. She realized that Mo must've told Nao about him before they arrived, and she wasn't sure if it was going to make things easier or harder. Sayuri had intended on starting from the beginning, but now she found that she was left with only the end to work with.

She studied the blank expression on her daughter's face and felt her heart squeeze tightly in her chest. She could only pray that Nao would understand, and as though she was willing it to happen, Sayuri slowly began to speak.

"He goes by the name of Hagiwara Katsumasa. He's 25 years old and is currently living in France." Hesitating a little, she gently continued, "And as you already know, he is your brother, Nao."

For a moment, all Nao could do was stare at her mother. It was unbearably painful to hear it. She hadn't realized she was hoping all along that it might've been a drastic joke Mo had told in order to get her to come. Slowly blinking once, Nao looked away and blankly took note of pedestrians who walked by the window.

"He wasn't always called Katsumasa." Her mother's voice was almost regretful as she spoke once more. "His name by birth was Kazuto. Kuroda Kazuto."

Hearing the name Kuroda snapped Nao out of her detached mood, and she turned to stare at her mother in shock. She didn't know what she was expecting, but her brain could not fully register the significance of his name and all she could do was whisper, "Kuroda?"

It was a while before her mother finally spoke again. The minute seemed to suspend in mid-air as Sayuri sat gripping the handle of her teacup, her eyes fixed on her own wavering reflection in the liquid. And when she finally returned her gaze to Nao, there was a faraway quality in them as though she was recalling a memory that had been long buried.

"I had named him Kazuto because he was born outside of Tokyo, away from where his father was. I didn't think he would ever know his own father, but I wanted him to at least have the surname of his birthright." There was a painful pause before Sayuri finally added, "When your grandmother sent him away to France, she had his name changed to protect his identity."

Nao's fisted hands clamped down tightly on her lap as she sat there staring at her mother. The words kept ringing in her head, and she desperately tried to grasp some sense in them when it suddenly hit her. He was nine years older than her and three years older than Rie.

Looking at her mother, she felt as though her world had just crumbled, and she could not keep the betrayal from creeping into her voice. "He's Uncle Satoru's son, isn't he? He was born even before you married him."

Nao's words seemed to startle her mother, but Sayuri only smiled sadly. "You're right, Katsumasa was conceived two years before I married your uncle." Then sighing almost inaudibly, Sayuri said, "Though it may have been easier if he was your uncle's son. Perhaps, then, everything would've been different."

Nao's breath came in shallow gulps until she held it in altogether. Her eyes widened, she watched her mother shake her head. Then the corners of her mother's lips lifted, and Nao thought it made her look almost bitter. "No, Nao. I only met your uncle a week before the wedding."

The image of her mother sitting in front of her blurred and Nao felt all the blood drain from her face. She suddenly realized how apparent it was that she knew nothing at all. And she became completely fixated on her mother's lips as they began moving once more, giving her the one confirmation that took away all the balance she had struggled to maintain.

"I never told you this, but I met your father long before I married into the Kuroda family. Katsumasa is and was always your father's son."

---

Isao leaned back against the wall and chuckled under his breath. It took him a while to figure it out, but he thought he finally understood what his friend was on about.

"So is that it, Tomo? You're testing my loyalties because I didn't trust your judgment when it came to Namura?"

When Mo gave him strange look, Isao sighed and explained, "Last night, you said you figured me to be on Namura's side."

There was a pause as Mo gave him a measuring gaze. "Are you?"

Isao held his friend's eye, but he refused to answer. It was Mo who finally looked away.

"What I was talking about...it had nothing to do with you. It was just something that had rolled around my head for the past three years. Shortly after I left-" Mo said and then he seemed to hesitate. "I think I truly realized the extent of damage that the high society could do, and the kind of person it turns you into. I didn't want to be a part of that."

The two friends sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Isao found that he had nothing to say to his friend that wouldn't sound like empty words. It was the first time Mo had ever referred to the reasons as to why he had never come back to Japan, and Isao wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Then in a quiet voice, Mo said, "You came between me and Hideo at a bad time."

Isao nodded once as he digested his friend's words. He knew that it was Mo's way of saying sorry, and that was enough for him. Keeping his eyes on Mo, he carefully said, "Tomo...about Namura-"

Mo stiffened and cut him off in a clipped tone, "It was unfinished business." Narrowing his eyes in raw hatred, he said, "Hideo's the worst of our kind, remember that, Isao."

Isao recalled the brief talk he had with Namura the night before and sighed. From Mo's words, he could already tell that his friend wasn't going to take well to his question, but he had to ask. "This is about Ishida, isn't it?"

Mo snapped his head around and gave him a piercing look, but Isao looked away. "I saw Namura kiss Ishida at the ball last night."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Isao knew right then that Nao didn't tell her cousin about what really happened at the ball. Mo's face was completely stark with horror, and in a stilled angry whisper, he asked, "What did you say?"

Isao tried to shake the sudden feeling of guilt that washed over him. Leaning his elbows against his knees, he looked at the ground and said, "When Hamano told me they were good friends, I believed her. She brought Namura over and seemed enthusiastic to have Ishida meet him."

When only silence greeted him, Isao closed his eyes and continued, "Ishida didn't say anything, and I thought..." His words trailed off and he took a deep breath. Shaking his head, he said, "It was after everything that I had Kanjirou call you. I thought he told you what happened."

Isao could almost feel the tension that clung to the air, and he finally lifted his head to look at his friend. The expression on Mo's face was one that Isao knew he would remember for a long time to come. It was as though all the strength had drained from his legs, because Mo suddenly sat down against the wall with his palms pressed hard upon his eyelids.

Isao knew Mo was upset, but he hadn't realized how serious things were until that moment. He barely knew what was going on, and it frustrated him to no end. "I'm sorry, Tomo. If I hadn't-"

Mo didn't seem to be paying attention to him at all. Instead, he whispered hoarsely, "I never thought she would go this far."

Isao's eyebrows creased in confusion. "Who?"

He waited for Mo to respond, but he had the impression that his friend wasn't even listening. It was as though Mo's focus was on something entirely different than what he could even begin to comprehend. His face frozen in an unnatural calm, Mo asked, seemingly out of nowhere, "What's going on between you and Chiyomi?"

Isao blinked and frowned at the abrupt question. "Hamano?" Unsure of what to say, he slowly replied, "Not much."

Mo nodded vaguely and a twinge of unease tugged at Isao's gut. So much had happened since Mo came back to Japan that Isao had completely forgotten to talk to him about Hamano Chiyomi. He was the only one among their friends to have known that Mo and Chiyomi were set to be engaged roughly a week after he left Japan three years ago...except he never came back. Now, Isao couldn't help but wonder if Mo was bothered by the fact that he was being paired with Chiyomi. Was this what Mo had meant when he said money could buy love?

"About Hamano," Isao started, only to stop again. Sighing, he finally said, "Well, you know how it works. They're talking of a merge between-"

Mo waved him off almost impatiently. "If you're telling me this because you're worried that I would mind, don't bother. I don't care about that." The expression on his face was still serious, but it was also laced with agitation. Then looking at Isao carefully, he asked, "So you're okay with the arrangement?"

Isao knew what his friend was asking, how the question came stacked with meanings hidden within yet more questions. The truth was, he didn't really have an answer to any of those questions. He had long accepted that this was how things would work for him, and whether he liked it or not was an irrelevant matter. In the end, he resorted to shrugging by response.

Mo seemed to expect it, and he didn't press him. Instead, he stood up and absently dusted the backside of his pants. Turning his head towards the setting sun, he squinted slightly and said, "Don't underestimate her, Isao."

The comment had taken Isao by surprise, even though he had a feeling that he shouldn't be. Nodding slowly, he gave Mo a searching look but he knew he wasn't going to get anything more out of him. Standing up himself, he stretched his back and cocked his head at the direction of the exit. "You're leaving then?"

"Yea," Mo replied, glancing at his cell phone for the time. Then pocketing the phone, he lightly massaged his temples and said, "I have to be somewhere right now. You staying?"

Isao appeared thoughtful. "I may." Waving his hands at the sky, he added, "I haven't seen the sunset in a while."

Mo cracked a smile and muttered, "Sensitive fool." Walking away, he lifted his hand and said, "Later then."

He had barely taken three steps when something suddenly occurred to Isao and he called out, "Tomo."

Mo turned around with a questioning look. And before Isao could change his mind, he quickly said, "Ishida...she didn't come to school today."

Mo didn't reply, but his eyes were challenging Isao to say something more. With only a slight pause, Isao finally asked, "Is she okay?"

Mo's gaze hardened. "You don't know what you're getting into, Isao."

Refusing to look away, Isao met his friend's eyes evenly. A certain weariness settled over Mo then and he turned away to leave, throwing his words in the air.

"No offense, but Nao's not the kind of person someone like you can get involved with. Both of you will be better off if you just leave her alone."

---

Nao had never openly admitted it before, but she was always a little angry at her mother. She had never understood why her mother had willingly subjected herself to the life that she now led- how she could marry one man only to become the mistress of her husband's brother. And after the scandal blew apart, she couldn't help but blame her mother for her foolishness.

It was true that ever since Nao could remember, her mother and Satoru had never seemed close. Rather, it was often her father, whom she thought was her uncle at the time, that came over to check on them. In the past years, Nao had wondered if it was perhaps out of loneliness that drove her mother to the person who was always there. But sitting there, watching her mother, she realized that she knew nothing. That nothing were as it had ever appeared.

Nao looked at her mother with such clarity then. She took in the eyes that were now rimmed with the redness of unshed tears and the broken expression filled with an unspoken plea for her to understand. Nao didn't know if she could understand, but she knew that she could no longer deny her mother the chance to be heard. Bowing her head, Nao stared at her lap and waited for her mother to begin.

Seeming to sense the shift in her daughter's thoughts, Sayuri nodded and recalled a time that had somehow railroaded her into the chain of events leading her up to this point. She talked of the story as though she was reliving it once more...of the pain, the happiness, of the roads she had chosen, and of paths she had been forced to walk. And somewhere along the way, Nao's tears began to slide down her face, rolling off her chin and dripping on to her clasped hands. It was one of those defining moments, forever imprinted on both women's lives, of who they were and the places they inevitably held in life. And it was in this position that Mo found Nao when he came back, with tears flowing freely in such a way that he had not seen in years.

-to be continued-

---

Author's Note: First off, I'm sorry this chapter didn't get to cover Sayuri's story and reasons. Originally, there were supposed to be no more questions about the past after this chapter was done, but I tried and tried again and couldn't make it fit well. So I changed the ending of this chapter completely and decided to have an interlude chapter come up next to cover that section of the story. It shouldn't be too long before that happens because I already have a good portion of it written.

In the meantime, I truly hope you can review and let me know how you felt about this chapter. It's been so long since I've written this story that I think I must've lost it so I'm feeling rather depressed at the moment. :p

All things said, if you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will respond to your review since there's now a feature for it. And of course, you can always join the PotW yahoo group as well, where you can see awesome fanart among other things. You can find the link in my profile. Finally, thank you for reading! I can't believe I've updated!