Ocean Avenue   von MakikoIgami
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                             Kapitel 1: Back Home
                             --------------------


It had been almost exactly 20 years that Youichi Hiruma had last set a foot into
Narita airport. He stretched and yawned, feeling his joints crack from sleeping
much too long – over 6 hours, longer than he usually slept – in a position
that was not exactly healthy, although those seats in the first class were
definitely better than anything business class could offer. Sometimes it came in
handy that he did not have to concern himself with financial matters.

Shouldering his bag that hardly passed as hand luggage, he made his way down the
stairs that led him to the passport control, frowning as he read the sign above.
"Welcome home!" was written in big Hiragana letters, obviously directed at all
Japanese citizens who returned to their home country after a long and tedious
travel to the rest of the world. Somehow, the English "Welcome to Japan!" did
not sound as warm as the native version. 

Hiruma ignored the sign though, wondering what had led him back to his home
country when all it held for him were memories, most of them tinted in a painful
emotion called regret and envy. Not that he would ever admit he felt something
like envy to the ones he envied, but it was true that he felt it nevertheless.

Checking his watch, he readjusted it to Japanese Standard time, and walked into
the queue of the passport control. As expected, it went quicker than that of the
foreigners, still Hiruma knew that it would take a little longer with him.

"Your passport please," the officer said mechanically, glancing quickly into it,
staring at the picture for a heartbeat longer than he did with the person before
he looked up, the frown prominent on his forehead. Hiruma gave him the most
innocent look he could muster, blowing a bubble that popped just when the
officer closed his passport and handed it back to him.

'Must have been the eyebrows,' Hiruma pondered, 'or the hair? Well, it could
also have been the ears…'

"Please renew your passport as soon as you can. It's been expired for over ten
years…"

For a moment, Hiruma was caught off-guard, but it only took him half a heartbeat
to cover it up. "I will see to it as soon as possible."

"Very well," the officer said and handed him back his passport. "You may pass.
Welcome home."

Hiruma snorted, already too far away to really shout back an answer. As fast as
he could he went to the vast place where one could reclaim his luggage. As soon
as his other bag arrived, he shouldered it on his other shoulder and made his
way over to the customs, where he first wanted to take the green route –
meaning, he had nothing declare – but as he saw a vaguely familiar face
waiting at an empty queue, he changed his plans quickly.

"Do you have anything to declare?" the man asked as he put down his back with a
considerable clunking sound.

Hiruma grinned. Of course the officer would not care to look up at him, none of
these idiots ever did. Why should they? They would never see the person again
afterwards, so why over-exercise their brains by memorizing the face in front of
them?

"I have weapons of mass destruction," he admitted openly, sounding like an
average person.

"I see," the man mumbled and opened the zipper of the blond's bag. Then he
frowned, obviously recognizing something about the other's voice, just to look
up with wide eyes into an even wider grin.

"Hi-Hiruma-san?" the officer gasped, making the blond laugh throatily.

"Yeah, it's me," he grinned. "Don't look all surprised, even I have to go
through customs."

"Yes, well, but… You see… I thought…" Tatsuo Ishimaru stammered, making
Hiruma's ears twitch in curiosity.

"What did you think?" he asked, content with seeing the other twitch.

"Well, when you… when you disappeared, we thought… well, we didn't think you
went abroad…"

Hiruma shrugged, looking away with a poker face. "I never disappeared. I just
went to study abroad."

"But, you never told anyone, not even-"

"Not even who?"

"Well, you know… We've all been worried that something might have happened to
you. But when we didn't hear anything about your whereabouts we just-"

"-assumed I was alright? 'che, it's funny how easy to predict all of you are,"
Hiruma snorted. "So, do I have to declare anything now or what?"

"Ah, um," Ishimaru said, looking down at the numerous rifles and guns inside the
smaller bag, "well, in a case like this I, um, have to call my superior, but
well…"

"Well…?" Hiruma repeated, his eyebrows rising up high.

Resolutely, Ishimaru closed the bag and handed it back to the former Quarterback
with a crooked smile. "Welcome home."

Taking the bag from the other's hands, Hiruma smiled back. "Thank you."

~*~

The first thing he did after he bought his tickets for the express train was to
sit down and check his stuff on his laptop. His eyes flickered over an old
folder that had made it onto each and every computer he had used over the past
twenty years, a folder filled with old memories, memories that would trigger
emotions he would rather not feel, so he left it where it was and skimmed
through his messages.

He wrote a few short messages afterwards, slightly bored because nothing had
really happened. He didn't bother changing the system time, he just looked at
the date.

April first.

He grinned.

Nobody would believe Ishimaru if he told anybody that he had met somebody from
the past. All of them though think that it was just an April Fool's joke.

On the other hand, it meant that it was his birthday the next day. No matter how
much he tried to forget it, he always remembered his birthday, even in the last
minute. He ground his teeth because he remembered it again this year, but did
what he always did when he remembered this particular day: He opened that folder
filled with emotions.

While the previews loaded though, he decided that he did not need pictures and
videos anymore. He shut down his laptop without taking the time to close that
folder again and decided to take a slightly different route than he had
initially planned. So, he did not change trains in Tokyo Main Station, but got
off a few stations before and changed trains so that he was taken to a place
that he had loved 25 years ago and hoped that it still existed.

Maybe he could get over what had happened 20 years there, too…

~*~FLASHBACK~*~

"…Why Anezaki?" Hiruma asked, his mask so thick that Musashi knew he was
pouting.

Snorting in mild amusement, the older looking young man tried to explain it the
best way he knew. "Well, it did not work out between the two of you, you know?
She said you just… didn't match."

"Yeah sure, it doesn't look good on her reputation that she dated the guy she
loathed most during her first two High School years in her last year and when
she entered university," the blond muttered bitterly, still nursing his hurt
pride for being dumped by that girl all these years ago.

"That and… you know. You two are just too different," Musashi added, wishing
he had not said that when an ice-cold digger hit him through Hiruma's eyes.

"But you two match? Is that what you want to say?"

"Well, um, that is what she says…" Musashi admitted sheepishly. He was still
puzzled himself that this thing he and Mamori had went so well, even over years
now.

"You know, when I first heard you were dating her, I shot the person and told
them that it was a bad idea lying to me, but he claimed to be telling the
truth…"

Musashi sighed. The time Hiruma had found out about that was worse when he had
left High School to help out in his father's business. They had not talked for
months, let alone looked at each other until he had finally enough and punched
Hiruma in the face. The fact that Mamori had yelled at him for letting his best
friend become a complete wreck had helped a lot to harden his resolve and his
fist. Afterwards, there had been this silent hostility from the blond to the
girl, but things had gotten back to a relative normality.

Until today.

When Hiruma learned that Musashi would be marrying Anezaki in June.

As soon as those words had left the carpenter's mouth, Hiruma had put on a poker
face so indistinguishable that he thought that not even a hammer with a diamond
tip would be able to get through.

"And now you're telling me you're going to marry her?" Hiruma snorted. "Tell me
it's an early April Fool's day joke."

"I hardly ever tell jokes around you. You don't like if somebody makes a joke on
your costs, remember?"

There was the pout again.

"Besides, it's not like I could have you the way you want it-"

"Bullshit!" Hiruma burst out, "You could have had me all the way you wanted if
you really and truly wanted me."

Musashi sighed. He had expected that outburst. But he also knew that Hiruma knew
that this was not true. "You know it's not like that. I have plans for my
father's business and you know-"

"Fuck it, you're sprouting so much bullshit these days," Hiruma laughed and –
most surprisingly – it did not sound cold or harsh, but warm and gentle, like
he was talking to a child that did not understand the ways of grown-ups. "It's
not your father's business anymore; it's your fucking business now. And it's
been like that for the past fucking 3 years, ever since you father died."

Musashi stiffened. Hiruma had always been good at pointing out the obvious.
Nevertheless, it stung.

"And it could be so much more already, if you just-"

"What?" Musashi interrupted, his own voice stern, reprimanding Hiruma like he
always did when he thought that the blond went to far. "Are you telling me what
could have been if you helped me? I'm doing a fine job myself, I think, thank
you very much."

Hiruma stared at him, eyes shooting daggers at the carpenter. Reading between
the lines, he knew that Musashi told him not to press farther, he had done that
before and he had not moved either. His will was just as strong as that of the
blond and when he said something could not be done, the blond had to live with
it. That was his power over the blond.

"…Fine," Hiruma said, taking a sip from his coffee.

Musashi sighed, glad that the discussion seemed to have ended with that. It
still felt a bit strange that Hiruma gave in so quickly, so he tried to clear
things up a bit more.

"You… know how I feel. About you," he said, not able to say the words he
wanted to say though, "it's just that the society we live in, that I want to be
successful in, is not ready… to acknowledge what you want."

Hiruma snorted, setting his mug down so loudly that he broke off the handle as
he pushed himself up to a stand. "Too bad for you."

With no further word, he left the table and the café, not caring that Musashi
had to pick up the tab for him, too. That bastard deserved it, for being an
insensitive ass.

~*~END FLASHBACK~*~

The blond remembered the conversation with a frown, getting off the train at
Deimon Station, where he did not take the familiar steps towards his old High
School, but into the other direction. His steps led him quickly to that old
café where almost all his most sacred memories came from, where everything had
happened that had been a milestone in his life. The only place where they brewed
coffee that he liked.

Almost fondly he looked out at the old, worn-out sign that said: "Ocean
Avenue."

Time to start things over.



                                Kapitel 2: Kids
                                ---------------


The alarm went off at exactly 7:00, but when Takekura Gen awoke, he was alone in
his bed. To make things worse, he had a hard-on so bad that he was wondering
what he had dreamt before. He remembered only holding somebody in his dreams,
sleeping peacefully in a too small bed, nothing like the queen-size bed that he
shared with his wife.

Groggily he sat up, rubbed over his face and decided to take a really cold
shower. Maybe that would help him both to wake up and get rid of his problem
south. Feet searching for slippers, he padded over to the bathroom and shed his
pajamas, dropping them somewhere on the floor. He could take care of them later.
Raking a hand through his tousled black hair, he stepped into the shower and let
the icy water rain down on him. As soon as he was able to open his eyes without
difficulties, he heated up the water and started to wash his hair and body. He
continued to ignore his slowly dying hard-on until it was completely back to
normal just to get out of the shower as soon as he was done with his washing.

Toweling his hair, he went back to the sleeping room and went to look for some
boxers. When he did not find the ones he was looking for, he gave up and
resorted to being a typical husband: Clad only with the towel around his waist,
he yelled down towards the kitchen: "Honey! Where are my favorite boxer
shorts?"

"They're on your dressing chair, honey! With your favorite dress shirt, suit and
tie!" a female voice yelled upstairs, while the smell of freshly brewed coffee
slowly made its way to the man's nose.

He inhaled deeply, thanking the gods for such a considerate wife and went to the
chair standing and the foot ending of his side of the bed, where he found the
items she mentioned. Smiling as he saw the little red bats on the otherwise
black boxer shorts, he thanked the gods that he had not gained much weight over
the years, else than other people he knew that were of his age. Of course, he
had grown a bit more stomach compared to the time when he was twenty years
younger, but not too much. Also, he was still able to lift the same weights as
twenty years ago, which came in handy when he decided to help out on one site or
the other.

Those occasions became less and less though and nowadays he visited the sites
that Takekura Constructions was working on only seldom. He saw that as a sign of
success, that this expansion from the rather small business his father had built
to a big corporate group with other small businesses – the one that Tamahachi
had built up, for example – had been the best idea he had ever had. It also
meant that the money his family had spent on his studies had not been in vain,
even though he had told them he would take over the business as soon as he was
done with High School. But everybody had pursued him to study, saying that "it
would be a waste of his intelligence", if he did not go. Thus he enrolled at the
Tokyo University together with his now wife and… Hiruma.

Gen stopped moving, right in the middle of tying his tie, remembering what he
had dreamt of.

~*~FLASHBACK~*~

It were the days after he had come back to High School in his second year. After
he had left for over a year and half, giving up everything personal to help out
in his father's business. He knew that the one that had been hurt most thanks to
his betrayal was not he himself, not matter how much he wanted to believe it,
but Hiruma.

While trying not to let it show outwardly, one look to the blond's eyes told
Musashi everything that he needed to know then. Hiruma missed him, thus avoided
him and thus missed him even more. And Musashi let him, because in his
self-torture he had thought that it would be best for him and the blond if they
did not see each other anymore. He despised that Hiruma seemed to seek solace
somewhere else, but he did not say a word. In fact, he ignored it the best way
he could and that was by working hard.

But then, quicker than he thought he would, he was kicking balls again, thanks
to that monkey-ish boy and the one with the fast legs. Still, he tried not to
think about American Football anymore but failed miserably. In the end, he
admitted that he missed Football and Hiruma more than anything in his life and
came running back to both.

It was hard not to pull Hiruma into his arms on the field, right in the middle
of the match against the Seibu Wild Gunmen. He rectified that after the match
though, and Hiruma being Hiruma was not happy with it until they had made up
properly in the shower afterwards. And in the locker room. And the toilet… and
his room, his bed, his bathroom and almost everywhere in his flat. In the end,
they had fallen into an almost comatose sleep, the blond holding onto him like
his life depended on it – and it probably did.

Musashi on the other hand was happy to hold the other tight the entire night,
waking up with him in his arms afterwards. And Hiruma sleeping soundly in his
arms was a memory he would never forget, no matter how many other happy memories
he had made over the years.

~*~END FLASHBACK~*~

Takekura Gen cursed his affection to that memory. The moment he had recalled it,
he felt his hard-on growing again and even though he was able to will it away,
his skin kept tingling as if he was still a High School boy madly in love.

It also was not so much the memory of having sex with Hiruma that had turned him
on, but more the fact how it felt, sleeping with the blond in his arms, the
trust and gratitude he was rewarded with by the blond still being with him in
the morning. Not even the memory of holding his first-born child managed to take
that away. It came in the spot, but he did not cherish it more than that memory,
for what reasons ever.

Sighing deeply, Gen finished tying his tie and put on the jacket of his suit and
went back into the bathroom, where he brushed his hair out of his face, fixing
it with some gel. He had shaved the evening before, so that he was now sporting
his characteristic stubble again, as he would for the rest of the day. After
all, it was his birthday, and what would he do, looking any different than any
other day?

Finally done with his morning ritual, he went downstairs, just to be greeted by
his wife and the youngest of his children.

"Mmmm, that's yummy, isn't it, Sachiko-chan? Yes, it is," Mamori chanted as she
fed the little girl some pulp. The baby girl giggled, laughed and clapped her
little hands together, obviously happy with whatever her mother was giving to
her.

Gen smiled, helping himself to a mug of steaming black coffee as he ruffled the
little girl's ginger curls.

"Good morning, you two. Have you slept well?" he asked.

"Oh, I did," Mamori answered, a little sourly maybe, "until this little lady
here decided that I had to change her diapers about 2 hours ago. Isn't it so,
you dirty little girl?"

As an answer, Sachiko only giggled and wrapped her little hands around the
plastic spoon Mamori was holding. The woman shook her head with a smile and
continued to feed her.

Gen snorted softly, now knowing why he woke up alone this morning. Also, he knew
why he dreamt of Hiruma so suddenly, because he only seemed to do that when
Mamori was not sleeping next to him.

"Oh! I almost forgot about it!" Mamori suddenly said and handed Sachiko the
spoon, who tried to eat the pulp herself, but rather smeared it all over her
face than put it into her mouth. Watching her from a safe distance, Gen shook
his head with an amused smile and wondered why all of his children rather wanted
to play with their food than eat. Or maybe all children did it? He did not quite
know.

"Hey, I dreamt of Hiruma just before I woke up," Gen said while his wife checked
the refrigerator.

"Oh, really? What was it about?" she asked, putting something big onto the
counter next to her, kicking the door of the fridge shut.

"Good ol' times," Gen answered, finally taking the spoon from Sachiko's hands to
feed her properly. "I'd give you details, but we have children in the room."

Mamori laughed as she lit a match. "As if Sachiko would understand what you
said."

"Who knows? Don't want to spoil her such a young age, huh?" Gen said, cleaning
her mouth with the spoon as well as he could.

"Well, maybe it's a sign or something? You don't dream very often of him, do
you? And every time you do, something happens," Mamori suggested, just before
turning around to her husband with a large cake in her arms. "Happy Birthday!"

Gen's eyes turned big like saucers. "Did you make that for me?"

"Yes, I did bake it yesterday and put some icing on it while you were in the
bathroom last night… It's not completely dried yet though, I think," she said,
looking unhappy about that.

Putting the spoon down, the man stood up and kissed his wife on the cheek.
"Thank you very much. I bet it's tasty."

"It better is! I put a lot of effort into it… and it's your favorite!"

"Hm, Chocolate Cake…"

"Did I hear the word 'cake'?" a cheeky voice said from the entrance.

"Youichi!" Mamori greeted her oldest son, "Good morning!"

"Good morning, mom," the blond young man said, kissing her on the other cheek.
"Is that Dad's cake? It looks perfect!"

"Yes, it's mine, and nobody will get a piece of it, unless they ask me nicely,
understood, young man?" Gen grinned.

"Hey! I always ask nicely, dad," Youichi protested. "Happy 45th Birthday, by the
way."

"Don't remind me how old I am, please?" his father winced. "It's bad enough that
I will hear it for the rest of the day."

"What should I say? I'll be turning 20 in a month, I'll be old then! Not a Teen
anymore, you know?" the young man protested, receiving nothing but
uncomprehending looks from his parents. "Don't look at me like that! That's…
that's bad, you know?"

"…says the one, who's practically the second in command of Takekura
constructions," Gen chuckled, patting his son's shoulder. "Don't forget your
studies though, okay?"

"Of course I won't," Youichi pouted. "I only have lectures this afternoon though
and thought I'd do something for my business until then. I'd not be missing much
anyways if I didn't go."

"I know," Gen sighed. "Better than you think I do. But do that for your mother
and me, please? It'll make the future easier for you."

"I don't know what this has got to do with anything, but I'll go anyways. This
way I'll get to see my friends," Youichi said as he helped himself to his own
mug of coffee, putting some whitener into it.

"…good morning," another voice said, followed by the sound of feet shuffling
on the kitchen floor. A tired lump fell down onto the chair next to Youichi,
just to let his head fall down on the table.

Mamori sighed. "Takeshi, if you did not play video games until late at night you
would not be this tired every morning."

"Ye~s," the ten-year-old boy mumbled, barely able to lift up his head again.

"…Why do I even bother? You won't stop playing anyways," Mamori sighed as she
placed a bowl of cereals in front of him. "…Haven't you forgotten anything?"

"Hm? Oh," Takeshi mumbled and tried to sit up, but he only managed to roll his
head around so that he was looking at his father, who sat down on the other side
of the table, snatching a toast from the basket in the middle of the table.
"Happy Birthday, dad. Hope you have a nice day and such…"

"Please, cover your mouth, I don't think your dad wants to see what you ate last
night," Mamori reprimanded the boy, making Gen chuckle softly.

"You don't need to make him say that. Let him wake up a little first," he said,
suddenly noticing the missing set on the table. "Where is Ken?"

"Already at school, you know how devoted he is to his training," Mamori
explained. "He left about 5 minutes to 7."

"Just before I woke up," Gen snorted bemusedly. "Well, I'll see him tonight,
right?"

"Yes! Our little family party tonight! I already prepared the meat," Mamori
beamed. "Just the best! Oh, and for dessert there will be creampuffs from
Kariya, you know, they still make the best in town and-"

"I know you'll do your best to make it a night to remember," Gen smiled as he
finished his toast and his coffee. "I'll miss my secretary today."

"Aw, I'll be back tomorrow," Mamori smiled fondly. "But you understand that I
need this day off-"

"Of course I do. I just said that I'll be a little lonely, answering all these
calls on my own."

"You'll survive it, I'm sure," his wife winked. "But you better get going now,
or you'll be late."

"Hm? Oh, you're right," Gen mumbled after he glanced at the clock. "Well, I'll
be going now. I'll see you later. Youichi, work hard for your studies,
understood?"

"Yes, dad!" the blond mumbled, chewing on his second toast. "I always do, you
know that."

"Of course I do," his father said as he grabbed his briefcase. On his way out he
ruffled Takeshi's hair. "And you young man, do what your mother says. Sitting in
front of the computer for a long time is not good for your eyes, understood?"

"Yes, dad," the little, black-haired boy mumbled, his face half-hidden by the
bowl of cereals.

His wife kissed him good-bye on the cheek. "Have a nice day, honey."

"I hope it will be full of surprises," Gen said, his eyes twinkling slightly
with mischief, making his wife shake his head. "See you tonight."

"Be careful!"

"I will!"

Takekura Gen did not know which surprises the day held for him. It would be the
biggest surprise of his life.



                         Kapitel 3: Anywhere But Here
                         ----------------------------


Youichi Hiruma ordered his sixth coffee in a row, typing away on his laptop, too
busy to notice the world around him. If he would though, he might have noticed
the pair of big brown eyes from the new-arrival that stared at him in utter
disbelief from the entrance of the café.

Soon, he felt the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge though and,
disturbed by that, he looked up with a frown, just to meet these two incredulous
eyes. As a result, his own two eyes became big as saucers.

It was the one person he least wanted to see from all the people in Japan at
that very moment.

~*~

Gen Takekura tried to go through his day with the same patience as every day,
but with all the calls of people that wished him a Happy Birthday, the myriads
of presents that arrived at his office and the various invitations to go out and
eat with business partners, it was near impossible. At 14:00, he decided that he
would get nothing done and devoted himself completely to answering the phone
that would not stop ringing.

Around half an hour later, when even his mother had called him at work even
though he had told her that she should call him in the evening, when he was home
again, he decided to call it a day.

To celebrate his birthday though, he decided to reward himself with a coffee and
a snack before he went home to his family. Sometimes, he needed a break from all
of them, no matter how much he loved them all. They, and especially his oldest
son, reminded him just how different his life would have been had he listened to
his heart over 20 years ago. It would have been a lot more difficult than it had
been the way he chose in the end.

Maybe he was a masochist, but he returned at least once a week to the place
where his life had a crucial turning point. He always told himself that it was
just for the coffee, but that was not completely true. The real reason why he
returned to the café that he used to go to during his School time thanks to
Hiruma, were the memories that seemed to get alive at this place. But they still
made the best coffee Gen had ever tasted, even after so many years, therefore
that was also a reason.

Thus, after a rather long ride with a few public trains, Gen stood in front of
the café that held almost as much memories for him as the twenty years of
living with his family did. For a moment, he hesitated to step inside, having a
funny feeling in his stomach, but then he shrugged it off and opened the door,
looking around the familiar furniture and decoration, just to let his eyes fall
upon a too familiar mop of spiky blond hair…

For a moment, he thought that he was imagining things. However, the picture
stayed the same, even when he blinked. Then he tried to think that it was just
some weird cosplayer, who dressed up as one of these Visual-K-musicians that all
looked the same to him. Some of them even more, but when that person looked up
from his laptop, he was sure that he did not imagine things.

"Hiruma," he breathed as he saw the other's shocked expression. Obviously, the
blond had recognized him as well.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, he walked over to the blond's table where he asked
if he could take a seat.

"It's not like I can stop if you do," Hiruma grumbled, taking off a delicate
looking pair of glasses. Obviously, he needed them when he worked on the
computer for a longer time, because now seemed to be shutting his laptop down.
From close on, Gen was able to see that Hiruma did not change much. His hair was
still blond, maybe a little shorter than he remembered it, but it stood up
anyways, his eyes were still green, even though he suspected him to be wearing
contacts most of the time. The ears were still big and pointed, two loops in
each of them and his mouth was still as big as it used to be. Hiruma looked
matured though, older, but what else would you expect from somebody who was
Gen's age? He had some wrinkles in the middle of his brows, around his mouth and
mostly on his forehead.

Still, it was unmistakably the Hiruma Gen knew since his Junior High School days
in all his glory grumpiness. The man's heart skipped at least a beat or two.

"It's been a very long time," he said softly, ignoring the hostility he felt
from Hiruma.

"Obviously not long enough for I still remember your face," the blond grumbled,
looking outside a nearby window and thus avoiding Gen's eyes.

The man snorted. "Well, it's a good thing then that your face will always stick
out in the crowd. Makes it easier for me to find you."

"Hey, you were the one who broke up, now don't try any of this romantic shit,
understood? It won't work with me."

But Gen knew that it did. Hiruma was talking in more than one sentence to him,
which was a good start. He should play Hiruma's game though to regain a bit of
their old trust.

"I know," he mumbled with a smile, pausing as the waitress put down his order in
front of him. "How long has it been now?"

~*~FLASHBACK~*~

"We're going to marry."

"What? Because she's pregnant? You know how easy it is to get rid of the
child-"

"We're too old for that. Besides, it doesn't make a lot of a difference. I
just… I don't want the child to be born without their parents being married."

"'Che. You're a hopeless romantic. Ever was, ever be."

"You never complained before."

~*~END FLASHBACK~*~

"It's been 19 years, 363 days, 23 hours and-" Hiruma said in a bored tone after
he took a look at his watch.

Gen frowned. He did not keep track of the dates just like Hiruma did, but he
remembered that day as clearly as if it had been yesterday. And something about
the blond's calculation was a little off.

"Wait, what day do you think we have today?" he asked, receiving a lifted
eyebrow.

"What's so important about it? It's not like today's a special day or
something-"

"No, it is important. Because we've seen each other-"

"-on your 25th birthday. Yeah," Hiruma finished the sentence for him. "And your
birthday is tomorrow. So, nothing special, unless you think that April Fools' is
a special day… What?"

"You're wrong… it's not the first today. It's already the second," Gen
explained.

"…Wait, that would mean that…"

"Yes, it's my birthday today."

"…"

"…"

"That's a joke, right?"

Gen shook his head, "I wish it was, but, no. It's the truth. April Fools' was
yesterday."

Hiruma suddenly looked like he wanted to bang his head against the table.
"Shit."

~*~

The moment Musashi had entered the café, Hiruma knew exactly what he wanted to
do, but he was more than sure that the other man would not agree to "Hey, let's
skip the entire talking and just go to the next love hotel, if you know what I
mean." Unfortunately.

Contrary to what he had said, it had been such a long time that he had forgotten
the effect Musashi had on him. First there came this hunger, where he wanted to
tip off the clothes of the stronger-looking man and then there was the calm. Not
that he was not calm before on the outside, it was just that Musashi's proximity
seemed to give him an inner calm that he was never able to get when he was
alone. Primarily, his hunger had to be satisfied and when he was denied that
little bit, he could never reach the calm.

The fact that he had lost an entire day by crossing the International Date Line
without him noticing made things even worse. Because now he had to deal with
Musashi on his freaking birthday and while he did not care about these kinds of
days at all, it meant that it had been indeed exactly 20 years since they last
saw each other.

Hiruma gritted his teeth and suppressed a sigh. Really, it would be so much
easier to just leave this place without saying another word and go to the
nearest love hotel. However, from the look on Musashi's face that was really no
option. The man looked like he was bursting with things he wanted to tell him,
all the stuff that had happened during the past 20 years. And those were the
last things Hiruma wanted to hear.

He suppressed another sigh and forced out a "Happy Birthday, then," taking a
moment to take in the other's features. Surprisingly, Musashi had not changed
much over the years; he still looked like the old man he looked like when he was
17. A few more wrinkles maybe, mostly around his eyes and mouth, indicating that
he smiled a lot, but also a few on his forehead, meaning that he had to deal
with a lot of crap that gave him a headache or two on an almost regular basis.
His hair was still black, although a few grey hairs were showing now that Hiruma
looked closer. Nothing like Musashi's father though, who had been completely
white at 45.

"Thank you," Musashi smiled as he took a sip from his coffee.

Inwardly Hiruma calculated how fast he could leave the café if he really wanted
to.

"So, how have you been? I didn't hear you take over the world so I guessed that
something was not happening the way you wanted it to be."

At least two minutes. Too long to make it without any explanation. But the way
this conversation was leading made a quick departure necessary.

"Look, I have to check into my hotel until 17:00 and that's in less than an hour
and I have to go through half of Tokyo to-" Hiruma explained lazily, not in the
mood to make up a better excuse. Musashi would have been able to look through it
anyways.

"You didn't look like you wanted to leave soon when I came here," the man said
matter-of-factly as he took a bite from his sandwich.

"…So what? I looked at the clock now and-"

"But if you booked your room from the first, and you didn't come yesterday, they
have probably given away your room to somebody else," Musashi argued, looking
like he had a plan.

Hiruma frowned and shot a glare into his direction. Why did he have to make this
mistake in the first place?

"That's none of your concern," he growled. "I can find a room anywhere if I want
to."

"So you still have no problem getting money? That's nice to hear," Musashi said
softly, before he looked up from his plate. "Look, we have a guest room at our
house and I know that Mamori would love to see you and-"

"So, you two are still married?" Hiruma interrupted him, wanting to confirm that
fact.

Musashi blinked, slightly taken aback by the suddenness of these words. Then he
nodded. "Yes, we still are. Somehow we… we seem to work well."

"So you don't love her?" Hiruma prodded further, his eyes cold as ice.

"…It's not like that," Musashi mumbled, staring down at his half-finished
sandwich. Why did he have such problems explaining his relationship to Hiruma?
To everybody else he knew it was easy, he loved his wife and his children and
that was it. Deep in his heart though, he knew that he could never love anybody
as much as he loved Hiruma.  "You should know that love is not that easily
explained-"

"Kekeke, you're still sprouting as much bullshit as you did 20 years ago,"
Hiruma cackled, feeling his mood rising somehow at these words. He could not
quite explain it, but somehow the option of dragging Musashi to the next love
hotel did not seem as unlikely as it did before. In addition, he was glad that
his long absence had not been in vain. "It's an easy yes or no question; even a
fucking old man like you should be able to answer that."

Musashi frowned. Somehow, he had not expected to hear that nickname ever again.
"Well, I love her. I love my kids, my family, if that's what you want to hear. I
love my job too, I love-"

"It's alright, it's alright, you don't need to tell me your favorite color,"
Hiruma cackled some more. "Fine, I'll come home with you for the evening, but if
I don't want to stay the night you help me find a hotel and carry all my luggage
for me, understood?"

Musashi snorted. "Fine with me."

"Are you really sure? You don't know how heavy my stuff is," Hiruma teased,
snatching a stripe of ham from the other's plate.

"If you can carry it, I can carry it, too," Musashi smirked. "Don't forget that
I'm still a carpenter, no matter the suit."

"But you have gotten old, fucking geezer," Hiruma grinned. "Be careful not to
break your bones."

"Well, you're not 17 anymore as well. And what do you say about wine? The older
the better, right?" the other man shot back, suddenly looking at least 10 years
younger with that certain twinkle in his eyes. Somehow, it felt as if nothing
had happened all these years ago, but Hiruma reminded him that it was
otherwise.

Else, Musashi would not be taking him home to his wife and kids.



                        Kapitel 4: One Year, Six Months
                        -------------------------------


"I really don't know how you put up with him," Mamori sighed as she dropped down
on the grass next to Musashi. "Every time I see what he does, I just want to
yell at him and tell him that it's not right… But he always ignores me."

The older looking one snorted with amusement, knowing many things that he could
say to that, but he knew that the girl only wanted to vent some anger. 

"I don't know what I saw in him," she sighed, looking up at the sky as if it
could tell her the secrets of life. "It's been… one year and six months? Has
it really been that long? That we've been together?"

"At least that's what I know," Musashi nodded, trying to read his book though.
It was one of the most boring books that he had ever read but he had to read it
because it was the main source for the questions of the next test. At least that
was what the upper classmen had said.

"I really don't know how he managed to convince me," the girl sighed again. "I
don't know… he seemed like a totally different person then…"

Musashi kept silent, knowing that it was because Hiruma actually had put some
effort in convincing her. Right now, he was more on the defiant side, hurt by
the fact that she had dumped him because she could not cope with who he was.

"He was so nice, so… much like a gentleman, you know, if you don't count the
weapons of mass destruction or whatever they are," she rambled on and Musashi
knew that she would tell him a story he knew like the back of his hand, from
both her point of view and Hiruma's.

"I don't know… maybe it was because I was young, innocent and wanted to do
something wild then," she shrugged, unpacking her lunchbox. "Yes, I guess it's
because I wanted to do something wild then. And boy, wild it was."

Musashi grinned to himself as he saw her blush deeply. It must have really been
something, because she always blushed like that when she talked about her time
together with Hiruma. On the other hand, Musashi knew exactly what Hiruma was
capable to do when he wanted something. And from a lover, he mostly wanted sex,
dirty, wild and hot.

Musashi knew that, because he was the one to provide that to the blond before he
finally managed to get together with Mamori, and only the gods knew for how long
Hiruma had had a crush on her. He did a good job hiding it from the world
though, but who really knew was not surprised to find out on New Year's Day
after the Christmas Bowl they played in that he was going out with the Devil
Bats' manager. Musashi felt a little left out that day, but as he watched the
pair pray, bicker and mainly the girl helping Hiruma do all the things he could
not because of his broken arm, he thought they were a wonderful pair and gave
them his blessing.

For the next one and a half year, he did nothing else but to study and pass the
tests for the Tokyo University, so that he could study there with Hiruma,
Mamori, Yukimitsu and everybody else from Deimon. Kurita had chosen to become a
disciple at his father's shrine, so he did not have to study that hard, now that
his dream of the Christmas Bowl was fulfilled. He did his best to cheer on his
comrades though, providing them with rooms when they needed it and everything
they needed. It was very convenient.

It was funny though, how Musashi knew that whenever Hiruma and Mamori
disappeared together, arrived a little later than planned or were away for a
little longer than normal errands too, that they were having sex. Mamori's
flushed cheeks did not help one bit either. He had tried to smile at them, tried
to pretend that he did not know what they did, but he did not quite succeed.

He felt a little guilty, but when Hiruma and Mamori started arguing more and
more during their last days of High School, he prayed inwardly that they would
break up. Why, he did not know. They were both his friends, very good friends,
too, but somehow they were too similar and too different at the same time that
they could really work out. Hiruma needed somebody he could rely on, who stood
behind him in whatever he did – not necessarily to support him, but he did not
want somebody who criticized his every move – and who did not care that he was
a crazy genius. Mamori on the other hand wanted somebody she could support, whom
she could pamper and mother, somebody with whom she felt safe and who supported
her.

In addition, she seemed like the kind of girl who wanted a family and was
willing to give up a successful career for that if necessary. Moreover, Hiruma
did not want family. He had too many issues with his own that he could even
start to think about raising kids himself. Somehow, thanks to Hiruma's needs and
playfulness, they had gotten a little careless about protection though and
Mamori had become pregnant during their second year together. Just after Hiruma
had found out about it, he had dragged her to the next abortion clinic and
convinced her that it was the best for her if she got rid of the fetus.

At that time, Musashi had not known what had happened, but all of a sudden, the
atmosphere around the pair had gone from steamy to icy. When Hiruma came to him
one night though, with black shadows under his eyes and with such a foul mood
that the sex was more like a fight to death and they were bleeding all over the
sheets afterwards, he found out the whole story. Mamori was giving him the cold
shoulder, she did not answer his calls and did not come to any classes they had
together and avoided him where she could. Consequently, Hiruma had gotten
frustrated with her. Thus, he went to the only source of solace and trust that
he still had, and that was Musashi. Being the person that he was though, he
first needed to vent his anger via sex, before he was able to form any coherent
words about his personal problems.

Musashi had listened without saying anything at first, treating both their
wounds with band-aids, but inwardly he had shook his head and wondered, what a
big idiot Hiruma was. He was not surprised by Mamori's actions anymore; had he
been a girl he would have done the same exact thing. Moreover, the poor girl
must have been completely traumatized by what Hiruma did to her.

When the blond was finished and looked up at him for any kind of advice, Musashi
had hit him square over the head and told him in non-too-nice words what he
thought of him. Then he told him he should give Mamori an honest, heart-felt
apology along with a few presents at least. After that, the blond had thanked
him and left without another word.

He seemed to have followed his advice, because after that, he and Mamori seemed
to get along better again, but something was broken between them. The girl
started to notice all the little things that she had ignored willingly before,
Hiruma's antics, the way he did things with blackmail, suggestions and
everything that she despised and about half a year later, when they entered
university together, they went separate ways.

Somehow, Musashi had ended up taking half of the lectures that Mamori also
attended and since they knew nobody else there and had gotten along quite well
before, they became really close friends. So close that Musashi soon knew
details of her relationship with Hiruma. It was somewhat funny picking apart the
opinions that he got to put them back together to facts, but it also made him
feel awkward to stand right in the middle of these two hot-heads. Thus, he did
the best that he could: he listened to what they both had to say, but he refused
to ever take a standpoint again.

These days, Mamori started to rant about Hiruma and his way to do things
whenever she caught him doing something. It was hard for Musashi not to roll his
eyes at her, but he did the best that he could, listening to her patiently.

Luckily, Hiruma's ways of coping with the situation were the same as usual:
Either he schemed something or he came to Musashi, looking for sex.

Today, while he was listening to Mamori's endless rant, he wondered though why
he let him. Was he just some sex toy to him? Why did he not just close the door
in front of him when he saw that hunger in his eyes? Why was he not able to deny
him what he wanted? Did he have to make up for the year and a half that they did
not see each other that much? For the time they did not have sex?

Musashi knew that had it been any other person, he would have kicked them so
hard that they were not able to sit down for the rest of their life, but with
Hiruma, it was different. The blond just had to be there and Musashi's mind went
blank. He had tried dating other people, had tried to have sex with somebody
else, but in the end it just came back to him that he only wanted Hiruma.

The worst thing about it was though, that he knew that he could never have him.
His father would be against it, his mother might understand, but she would be
against it, too and all of his coworkers would also be against it, even
Tamahachi, who knew him better than anybody else. Still, he could not stop
thinking about Hiruma. He even went so far as to imagine what life would be like
with him in twenty years, but what he imagined was not what he wanted, what he
was supposed to be. Should he really confess that he was in love with a man and
try to lead a successful business… He would have to do many illegal things and
that was nothing that he could do. Also, he knew that the only assignments that
he would get then were the ones that Hiruma got him through blackmail. And he
wanted that even less than a happy life. Still, he kept thinking about only
Hiruma like a stupid teenager. Well, maybe he was just the biggest masochist on
earth.

On the other hand, his father kept prodding him when he would find a girlfriend
that he could marry so that he could produce a Gen Takekura junior to ensure the
continuation of the Takekura bloodline. He kept telling him that he was too
young for that and that he wanted to complete his studies first, but his
father's condition was worrying him. It got worse and worse with every passing
day and the doctor did not give him much more time to live. So he needed to find
a woman to marry soon, so that he was still able to introduce her to him.

"Ah, if only I could fall in love with somebody like you," he heard Mamori sigh
suddenly and he looked up at her in surprise.

"What?"

"Do you realize that you're everything a woman could wish for? You're tall,
intelligent, patient and by the way, you also look good with all these natural
muscles… I bet you like kids, too," she laughed, actually managing to make him
blush and look back down onto his book. "Really, you and Hiruma, you are like
two opposite poles, just how do you get along at all?"

"Well, you know about opposites being drawn towards each other? I guess that
explains it pretty well," he mumbled.

"But, I must admit that you are really brave, too," she continued as if she did
not listen to him, "I mean, I know about same sex relationships from a few of
Suzuna-chan's manga, but it's not easy to do that in reality, is it? I mean…
don't you get looked on funnily? Like, when you two are on a date or
something?"

Musashi snorted. "It's as easy as that: we don't 'date'. We have sex, that's
about it. And while we're not having sex, we get along pretty well, too."

"So, it's not about love?" Mamori asked, curiosity peaked.

"…Not… exactly," the young man answered with a frown. "It's never been about
love between us, it's more like… a mutual need of the other. I… can't
explain it well, you know? I've never been good with words."

"That's not important," Mamori smiled openly at him. "I've never seen Hiruma
trust anybody as much as he trusts you – maybe Kurita or Sena – so you're
actions must be worth more than any words anybody can say to him. I don't think
that he ever trusted me as much as he trusts you."

Musashi wanted to protest, wanted to say that he did not do much, that he let
Hiruma down so many times, he did not think that he blond trusted him all that
much, but on the other hand, what she said had some reason behind. Still, it
irked him that he was unable to quit Hiruma when there seemed to be no emotion
behind the things they did.

Rationally regarded.



                        Kapitel 5: Rough Landing, Holly
                        -------------------------------


The ride from the café Ocean Avenue to the Takekura's residence a little
outside the city was long, but not as bad as Hiruma had feared. It was
surprisingly easy for him to go back to the usual bantering with his friend,
teasing him about his age, his looks and everything that he could think of. He
tried to tease him about his company, that he was still running his father's
stupid construction company, but everything that came out of his mouth was
simple praise for getting it as far as Musashi had gotten it. Takekura
Constructions placed third in the ranking of numbers of buildings they built in
Tokyo, and fifth in all of Japan, closing in on the next higher ranked one these
days. A few more new contracts and Takekura Constructions would be ranked second
in Tokyo, which was a lot more than Hiruma had expected the other to do when
they had parted.

"You underestimated me," Musashi smirked. "You didn't think I'd get that far
without you."

"Of course not," Hiruma snorted. "You're too soft, it's an entire surprise that
you managed all of this."

"Well, I have to admit, it was not my doing alone," the older looking one
admitted shyly. "If it weren't for Mamori by my side, I'd-"

Hiruma started laughing loudly, scaring away a few people around them. "How did
I know she played a major role in this? You obviously didn't marry her for her
good looks, did you?"

"No… not… not really," Musashi sighed. "I managed to build up a lot of
valuable relationships with architects and other companies thanks to her. If she
hadn't talked to other wives at certain social gatherings of Tokyo's upper
class, I would have never talked to their husbands and well… Takekura
Constructions wouldn't be where it is now. Also, it helps to have friends in
politics."

"Mhm, I heard that Juumonji will be a candidate for the prime minister in the
next elections," Hiruma said, having kept track of all of his ex-teammates from
abroad.

Musashi nodded, "he and Haruto have been very good friends of us during all this
time-"

"Haruto? Sakuraba Haruto?" Hiruma interrupted him suddenly. "Since when are the
two of you friends? You never talked to each other the entire time I knew you."

"Well, um," Musashi mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up a little and hoped that
it did not show, "we knew each other since High School, right? One day we just
met behind the scenes of some TV production and started talking. Then we had
some coffee, I invited him over and he brought Ichiro along-"

"So the rumors are really true then? I mean, a lot of things come over to the
US, especially if there's a cute gay guy on a popular TV-show in Japan, but most
of the time it's just some kind of fake. You have absolutely NO idea how wild
some those women abroad get if they see some guys kissing," Hiruma shook his
head, grinning to himself though.

"Well, it did make a lot of waves when he announced publicly that he was dating
a very attractive and skilled doctor. He almost had a nervous breakdown before
and broke down crying afterwards when he only received positive reactions to his
outing," Musashi explained with an almost fatherly smile on his lips. "I'm happy
for him. He doesn't realize yet just how much he achieved through his outing,
though. Thanks to Juumonji-kun politics are seeing the matters a bit more
liberal now and they are really loosening up."

"A lot has changed, huh?" Hiruma asked quietly, feeling a little empty inside.
Had things been like they were today…

"Not really," Musashi sighed. "It's only been ten years since Haruto's public
outing; society needs a lot longer to cope with a shock like that."

"From what I know, they're doing a pretty good job," Hiruma said flatly, arms
crossed in front of his chest.

"On the outside, yes," Musashi agreed. "But, well, many companies have stopped
hiring Haruto since his outing. Still, he gets enough screen time to be popular.
Ichiro has lost a few patients, too. Some even went as far as to insult him
right in his face..."

"People are stupid," Hiruma concluded with a low growl and Musashi happened to
agree.

~*~

"Honey! I'm home!" Musashi yelled through the house after he had closed the door
behind him and Hiruma. He took off his shoes before he stepped inside, hearing a
"Welcome back, honey!" from the kitchen. He smiled to himself as he smelled his
favorite food – steak with baked potatoes.

"I'll show you around in a second," he said to Hiruma, who just shrugged and
tried not to look uncomfortable, before he snuck over to the kitchen and kissed
his wife hello.

"How was your day?" she asked as she turned back around from the stove and
smiled at him. "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"Oh, it was okay. I got nothing done at work, you know?" he said lightly. "My
mom called me, along with the rest of the city."

"Ah, so, the same as every year," Mamori chuckled.

"No, it was worse this time," Musashi grinned. "It seemed like everybody wanted
a piece of me today."

"Well, it's your 45th birthday, that's something to celebrate," she said and
turned back around to check the steaks.

"Yeah, unfortunately," Musashi sighed as he went over to the table and glanced
at the bag from Kariya's. Then his face lightened up. "You won't believe what
happened then. Come with me for a moment, could you?"

"In a moment, can't you see I'm cooking? They're almost done…"

"No, it really can't wait," Musashi insisted, having a goofy grin on his face.
"You need to come with me now. Close your eyes," he instructed as she gave in
with a sigh and he took her hands.

Carefully he directed her a few steps into the hallway, where Hiruma stood,
looking slightly nervous, even for his standards.

"What is it? Did you get something nice as a present that you can't show me
later?" she said, sounding annoyed in a very amused way.

Hiruma found himself staring at her though. She had not changed at all over the
year. In his eyes, she was still beautiful, the lines around her eyes enhancing
her features instead of making her ugly. Her hair was up at the back of her head
so that they did not fall into her face. It still had the same color he
remembered. A pair of simple, but expensive looking earrings underlined her
graceful neck along with a simple golden necklace. Right then, she was wearing a
pink Rocket Bear apron over a kneelong skirt and a white t-shirt. His lips
curled up into a smile at her affection towards that old mascot, that had
obviously not changed over the years.

One look told her that she was happy now and that was all he needed to know
about her right then. It lifted a heavy weight from his chest.

"Look what I found," Musashi mumbled as he gestured for his wife to open her
eyes again. Hiruma made a conscious effort to hide the smile on his face, giving
her a bored look.

"Did you bring home another pet…" she started, her eyes still focusing on the
tall figure in front of her. Her eyes became as wide as saucers and she clapped
her hands over her mouth as she gasped in surprise.

"H-Hiruma…" she breathed, her eyes watering.

Despite feeling nervous because of her reactions, Hiruma managed to grin and
taunt her. "What, are you going to cry, fucking mother hen?"

"Hiruma!" she cried and ran towards him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight
embrace while tears started to run over her cheeks. "Welcome back!"

The blond felt uncomfortable with the weight that was suddenly clinging to him,
but before he realized what he was doing, he had his arms wrapped around her and
smiled once more. "Thank you," he breathed.

He felt Musashi's eyes on him and as he looked up over the mop of Mamori's hair,
he could see him smiling softly. For a moment, he wished things would stay like
this, but then he was shoved away by the woman.

"You! You stupid idiot!" she yelled at him, tears still streaming down her
smiling face. "What did you think when you disappeared like that? Twenty years
ago? Did you think nobody would miss you or what?"

"Kekeke, I had my reasons and you know it," he chuckled, patting her head. "Stop
crying, will you? It'll only mess up your make up."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Mamori protested, but it sounded more like a laugh.
"When did you come back?"

"Today," Hiruma answered curtly. "Your fucking husband over there picked me up
by chance and dragged me here."

"I met him at the café," Musashi explained sheepishly. Her eyes narrowed and
she pointed her index finger at him.

"I told you I'd make dinner tonight and you still go there to get something to
eat? You're not getting anything today! And I don't care if it's your
birthday!"

"Aw, honey, I just went there for the coffee… Besides, if I hadn't gone there,
I would not have met Hiruma," Musashi said defensively, raising his arms.

Her anger seemed to cool down at that, and she sighed. "You're right. Hiruma,
please, you must be tired. Why don't you go get a shower? I'll prepare the guest
room for you after dinner."

"How can I deny such an offer?" the blond grinned.

"Honey, you show him around, okay?"

"Alright," Musashi smiled. "By the way, where are the kids?"

"They're not yet home from school and work respectively. You're a little early,
you know? Sachiko and Takeshi are in their rooms though," Mamori explained,
already on her way back to the kitchen.

"Okay," the man nodded before he turned back to Hiruma. "I'll show you around.
Give me some of your luggage, please."

Wordlessly, Hiruma let him carry the heavier bag as Musashi led them into the
living room where he dropped off the bag in a corner. It looked exactly like one
of those living rooms from those movies, with cozy looking sofas, a huge TV set
and a mantle piece, with a dining area at the backside of the house with a door
to the gardens. They were small and the next house was just a few meters away,
but it still let in some light from outside. The table was already set for five
people, with a children's chair next to one chair.

"Four kids, huh? And a very young one, too?" Hiruma said after he observed the
situation.

"Yeah," Musashi chuckled. "I know what you want to say, we've been very
productive, I know. The youngest one is Sachiko, she is two years old and a
latecomer. Her next brother is ten years old."

"What, so Sachiko's been an accident?" Hiruma started to tease him.

"Somewhat," Musashi admitted with a sheepish smile. "We had not wanted to get
anymore children, but somehow… it just happened. And it's not like it's a bad
thing. She's a lovely little girl."

"Well, I hope she doesn't call me 'Elf' or something equal stupid. I've met
enough children in my life that thought my ears were funny," Hiruma snorted as
he opened his bag to get some fresh clothes out of it.

Musashi simply shrugged. "I don't know… she doesn't seem prone to calling
people funny names."

"I take your word for granted," Hiruma said, then smirked. "Care to join me for
a shower?"

The other grinned back. "I'm sorry, not with the kids awake in the house."

"Oh, so later? When they're asleep?" Hiruma joked, his ears twitching slightly.

Musashi simply laughed and exited the room. "The guest bathroom is here," he
said as he opened another door. "The bedrooms and our bathroom are upstairs,
I'll be showing you that later, now go take a shower. I bet you must be looking
forward to one after that long flight from America."

"I'm craving one, actually," Hiruma admitted. "Sure you do not want to join?"

Musashi shook his head with a smile. "See you in the living room later."

Hiruma grinned to himself as he closed the bathroom door behind him. It would
have been to easy like that anyways.



                        Kapitel 6: Words, Hands, Hearts
                        -------------------------------


As Musashi went upstairs and redressed, he realized with shock just how close he
had been to give in to Hiruma's offer. Even though he had just seen how happy
the blond was to see Mamori again, and even though he knew that his youngest
children would be hearing everything they did as their rooms were just above the
bathroom and adjacent to the kitchen…

He suppressed a shudder and closed his eyes to focus, calming himself with a few
deep breaths.

But who could have known that Hiruma was even sexier now than he had been twenty
years ago? Whoever wanted to tempt him with his reappearance, they were doing a
pretty good job. He somehow wished that he had not invited Hiruma over; it was
only worsening his temptation. If nothing happened, he knew that he would use
the first opportunity to bend the other over and have his way with him.

After he had thought that thought, Musashi froze in his movements and realized
what had just crossed his mind. His face heated up and he covered it in shame.

After all, he was really just a perverted old man.

~*~

Mamori had been right, Hiruma needed that shower. It relaxed a few muscles that
he thought were not tense to begin with, but obviously they had been. Still, he
cleaned himself quickly, washing his hair that felt as if it was covered with a
thick layer of grease although he had just washed it the day before he took that
flight back to Japan. He sighed as his hands reeked through the soft tresses
without resistance, rinsing for a long time.

Stepping out of the shower, he took the towel closest to the shower stall and
quickly dried himself before he put on his fresh clothes. Just as quickly, he
dried his hair, after he found a hairdryer and some hair gel, which he used to
make his hair stand up again in its characteristic way. As he was finished with
his work, he looked into the mirror, regarding himself with no small amount of
satisfaction. He knew that Musashi had been hesitating when he offered him to
join him in the shower. It was only a matter of time until things were back to
where they had been 20 years ago between them, but Hiruma had to be patient. He
knew that Musashi would come back to him out of his own free will some day, so
he just had to wait until then. If he rushed anything, it would only narrow his
chances of getting back together.

Hiruma was fully aware of how unfair this all sounded, but he had his reasons.
One of them was a certain event twenty years ago and another was the way Musashi
hesitated to answer the question if he loved Mamori. Oh yes, this personal
little scheme would make things all the better for Hiruma. But first, he had to
go through the hell of one happy family celebration.

He made a bored face and stuck out his tongue at himself in the mirror, when he
heard Mamori shouting loudly, "Youichi? Could you please help me get the plates
into the living room when you're finished with your shower?"

Hiruma frowned at her loudness since he was only in the adjacent room and then
wondered when she remembered that she had started to call him Youichi at some
point and not Hiruma anymore, just to do the latter a few moments ago. He
gathered his dirty clothes and exited the bathroom, walking over to the
kitchen.

"Sure I can help you, but can I have a plastic bag for my stuff first?" he said
calmly, but somehow he managed to startle her so much that she jumped up a few
centimeters.

"Y-you! Don't scare me like that!" she reprimanded him and looked at him
nervously.

Hiruma frowned. "What?"

"N-nothing," Mamori said a little too quickly maybe as she started to rummage
one of the cupboards for a plastic bag. "There you are… If you got more
though, you can give it to me and I'll wash them for you."

"That'd be too nice," Hiruma nodded as he put his stuff into the bag without
much love. Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, he heard somebody
else enter the kitchen.

"You yelled for me, mum?" a tall, slender and lithe boy said, and if Hiruma had
not known any better, he would have said that his younger self was standing in
the doorframe. Of course, he did not have pointed ears, his hair was not
standing up as much as his did, but his hair was blond and he could not
determine whether or not it was natural, but he probably bleached it just a
little bit. The youth's eyes were narrow with dark lashes, even the shape of his
eyebrows was similar. Hiruma's eyebrows crinkled up into a deep frown and he
stared unconcealed at the one that was obviously the Takekura's oldest son.

"Who's that?" the boy asked after he looked just as incredulously at the other
blond in the room.

Mamori, who was suddenly very, very nervous, laughed sheepishly and had no other
choice but to introduce the two. "Um, Youichi, this is Hiruma, you know, a very
good, old friend of your dad and me. Hiruma, this… this is Youichi. Our oldest
son."

The words sunk heavily into Hiruma's consciousness as he was not able to stop
staring. Then, he blinked, and stared down at the woman, who was still looking
very nervous. "You named your oldest son after me?!"

"Well, um, yes?" The woman laughed sheepishly.

"What the fuck?!" Hiruma growled and grabber her shoulders, just about to shake
her, when a strong hand grabbed his wrist and pried it away from the woman's
body.

"Hey, don't treat her like that!" Youichi stepped in, glaring at the older man
hostilely.

"You don't tell me anything, fucking… fucking boy!" Hiruma snapped back,
pulled his wrist out of his grip and glared at the boy.

Mamori sighed and stepped between the two hotheads. Somehow she had expected
something like that to happen.

"Hiruma, Youichi, both of you, please calm down. I promise I'll explain
everything later, but first, please help me carry these into the living room,
okay?" she said and handed each of them a plate with baked potatoes.

The two blonds glared at each other for another second for good measure before
Youichi snorted and turned around to walk into the living room. Hiruma just
shook his head and followed him.


~*~

"Dad, please, ask Kurita-san or Kobayakawa-san to teach our team!" Ken begged
his father, who sighed, because they had had this discussion endless times.

"You know my answer to that. They are all busy men, working hard. I already
asked them before and everybody said that they're not fit to teach anybody
anything. Yukimitsu said that he would, but he's so busy with his job as a
lawyer, he really doesn't have the time," Musashi sighed and lifted Sachiko up
into her chair.

"You know, I'd ask mom to train us, but I fear that the other guys don't want
her to," Ken argued. "I know she'd be more than able to chase us around, but-"

"You do know how busy the both of us are. That's why we're glad you spend so
much time at school, really," Musashi sighed and put a hand upon the shoulder of
his second oldest son.

"But, dad. We really want to go to the Christmas Bowl this year, you know? It's
our last chance, too. Deimon doesn't allow their third years any club
activities," Ken kept on begging.

Musashi sighed. He probably knew best, because he had went through all of this
himself when he was 17, just a few months older than his son now. And with the
minor change that he did not go to High School because of his father.

Besides his looks, his second son had inherited his kicking abilities, but was
not only limited to that. In fact, he was also a decent runner, which made him
the ace of the team. In fact, he was the team, as nobody else seemed to be
interested in American Football theses days. He had two good friends that helped
him keep the club alive, but other than that… They were off pretty bad.
Unfortunately – or fortunately – Ken did not have Hiruma's attitude to
blackmail other clubs' members into helping them out, therefore they had yet to
play in one tournament.

It was not as if Musashi did not understand his son, no, he probably knew
exactly how he felt, and he had really asked everybody that he could think of,
even Seijuro Shin, but all of them had to refuse due to the lack of time and
interest. Shin had been a special case; Musashi had been sure he would have
agreed to train a High School Football team, but even he had to refuse, because
he had already been hired as Japan's National trainer and for a High School team
in America. Musashi had not had the heart to tell his son the entire truth, so
he had kept the High School part to himself as he had told him about it.

"I know, son," he sighed. "But there's nothing I can do about, sorry. Hey,
Takeshi! Stop playing and sit down at the table."

"In a moment, dad, I'm just about to win this game," the youngest son mumbled.

"You said that the last time I asked you. Just save the game and come to the
table, understood?" Musashi said sternly.

"Yes, dad," Takeshi sighed and did as he was told.

"Oh, by the way, we have a guest tonight," Musashi said suddenly. "You don't
know him, so try to behave… and do not stare too much, okay?"

"Why, who is it, dad?" Ken asked, brow furrowed.

At that very moment, Youichi came in through the door, followed closely by
Hiruma and Mamori.

"It's him," Musashi mumbled as he watched how his sons' eyes became as big as
saucers.

~*~

Thanks to Mamori's iron discipline, they managed to sit down at the table and
started to eat before any vital questions could be asked. Hiruma was still a
little irritated by Youichi and kept glancing over to him with a frown, but he
was even more irritated by the looks he got from the other two sons. It seemed
like his fears that the youngest, Sachiko – who was a spitting image of her
mother by the way – would be his biggest problem were absolutely without
reason.

"Alright, fucking kids, stop staring right now," he said after a while, putting
down his knife and fork rather forcibly. "Yes, the ears are real. Is that why
you were staring? Yes? Then you know it now, so stop it already."

He looked at the big eyes that were still looking at him. "…What?"

"I know you," the youngest boy suddenly said. "Yes, I know you! You're that
demon-guy from that old game that also has dad in it!"

"What are you talking about?" Hiruma asked with a frown, too irritated to
remember his own schemes from over 25 years ago.

"You know… that game… that you blackmailed some people to make… about the
Deimon Devil Bats," Mamori said lowly. "We… have a copy here. And well, it's
Takeshi's favorite game."

"Second-" the boy tried to say, but was interrupted by his older brother.

"Please! I'm begging you! Train our team so that we can go to the Christmas Bowl
this year!" Ken said suddenly after he had jumped up to bow low in front of
Hiruma. The blond just looked at him with a surprised look, then snorted.

"Fucking old man, fucking mother hen, could you please tell me what's going on
here?" he growled, not caring one bit about the glare that Youichi shot him. "I
get the part about the game, but what does he want?" Hiruma pointed at Ken, who
still bowed low in front of him. "And why the fuck does he", he pointed to
Youichi, "look like me when you named him after me? Am I responsible for his
existence or what?! Was I the one who knocked you up 20 years ago?!" Hiruma was
yelling by now and glared at Mamori, feeling somewhat betrayed by the only two
people he had ever let very close to him.

"Calm down, will you? I'll explain it," Musashi mumbled, looking decidedly
uncomfortable.

"Make it quick, my patience is running low," Hiruma grumbled as he leaned back
in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

Musashi sighed, exchanged a look with his wife and shot his oldest son an
apologetic look. Then he took a deep breath, before he started to explain.
"Youichi was born about one month after we married… After you disappeared."

"But you're not my dad!" Youichi chimed in, obviously pissed off by the pure
thought of it. Hiruma opened his mouth to say something in return, but Musashi
continued to talk.

"We, Mamori and I, we missed you and we both… like you very much, you should
know that. And we wanted to thank you in some kind of way, too-"

"Stop being so mushy, I think I get it. You named him after me as some kind of
tribute, right?" Hiruma snorted, still not happy with the whole situation, but
highly amused by it.

"Right," Musashi nodded. "At first, we did not think much of it when he got his
first blond hair… and then the next and so on, but when they still didn't get
darker when he reached puberty, we… made a paternity test. Secretly."

"What?!" Youichi gasped, his anger now directed at his father. "Why didn't you
tell me about it? That kind of stuff is important to me, too, you know?"

"Calm down," Musashi sighed, "the results of the test confirmed unmistakably
that I am your biological father."

"It seems like Gen has some European genes in him, too, from his
great-great-grandfather," Mamori chimed in. "It seems like it was something the
Takekura family tried to forget over the years. But it explains why Gen's beard
started growing so early… and other things."

Hiruma grinned at her blush, knowing exactly what she meant. "You mean the size
of his-"

"Anyways," Musashi interrupted quickly, before Hiruma was able to finish his
sentence. "It's a strange coincidence that Youichi is the spitting image of
you… Minus a few features."

Hiruma snorted, still grinning broadly because he was amused of something. "I'd
say it's a cruel joke of nature. At least your other kids look like yourself.
That doesn't explain though, why he," he pointed down, "is still down on his
knees there."

"Ken, get up!" Mamori said quickly. "Ask properly and explain yourself before
you do."

Reluctantly the boy stood up again and sat back down at the table. Then he
sighed and looked at Hiruma with big pleading eyes. "Please, you have to be the
trainer of my team. You're the best football strategist that I ever heard of and
we really need some drastic measures. See, it's only me and two friends who keep
the Amefuto-Club at Deimon alive and we really, really want to go to the
Christmas Bowl this year. It would be an honor for us if you trained-"

"Not interested," Hiruma said flat out, resuming eating.

"What?! Why!?! But we need you!!" Ken protested.

"Ask somebody else. I stopped playing football when your father did and that was
27 years ago."

"But-"

"Didn't you hear me, fucking wimp? I said, I'm not going to train you and that's
it! Stop begging like a spineless idiot!"

"Hiruma…"

The teenager's eyes narrowed as they started to water with anger and
frustration. At the same time, his brows furrowed and he started to pout.
"…Fine. I won't ask you again. If it's that what you want, I will make you beg
to train our team!"



                          Kapitel 7: Light Up The Sky
                          ---------------------------


After dinner and watching Gen unpack his presents from his family - with Hiruma
sitting in a corner, cackling to himself – Mamori dedicated herself to the
dishes, while the rest of the family split up. Youichi went to his room to call
his girlfriend, Ken mumbled something about homework, Takeshi resumed his game
and Sachiko was allowed to play with her father's beard until Mamori was done
with her chores.

The dishwasher was running when she went upstairs and passed Youichi's room,
hearing him talk heatedly on the phone. She smiled to herself, secretly wishing
for a wedding and some grandchildren soon, although she had enough to do with
Sachiko. Walking on, she got to the room of her second son and knocked.

"I'm coming in~!" she chanted before she opened the door. She saw her son
sitting at his desk, glaring at some books with mathematical formulas. He was
tapping his pencil so hard that he kept breaking the tip of it. Mamori chuckled
softly, because she knew just how hard Ken was taking the flat-out refusal.

"Still sulking?" she asked gently, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Is he still laughing?" Ken asked back, grudgingly.

"I fear so," Mamori admitted sheepishly, remembering how Hiruma had cackled
under his breath as she had collected the last dishes.

"God damn, I can't believe that you and dad think so highly of him, mom," he
growled. "I can't believe I thought he would just train our team because he
liked to play football. Now I understand why You-nii was ticked off that
easily."

Mamori smiled her best motherly smile as she remembered Hiruma during his High
School days. "It's… complicated. He achieved what he wanted; he has no more
goals with American Football nowadays so he's not interested in it anymore. Just
like… your dad."

"Yeah, but dad's working hard for another dream," Ken argued. "I have not heard
with what this guy is earns his money."

"Believe me, you don't want to know that," Mamori laughed sheepishly. "It's
probably something hardly legal, but he'll be good at it."

"Hardly legal?" Ken frowned.

"Something like… gambling. The last time I saw him, he was an expert at any
card game, but mostly Black Jack," Mamori explained. "It's an easy game for
somebody with photographic memory and profound statistic knowledge."

Ken nodded. "Tamura does the same, he's just… very lazy about it. He would be
so much better in school if he actually paid some thought to what he should do
than what he wants to do. Ah, I just wish he is going to be more of help
recruiting other members than the last time we tried…"

"He is very direct, isn't he?" Mamori asked, listening to her son's worries.

"Too direct for his own good," Ken sighed. "The last time he admitted something,
he was rewarded with a week detention because he called his sports' teacher a
'lazy ass' – although it's the truth. I hope he doesn't scare away anybody by
telling them that we never played in an actual game… It sounds better when I
say that we never lost any game. Ah, what would I give if we had a famous coach
like Hiruma-san."

Mamori patted her son's back as he plopped his head down on the table in an
exasperated motion. "Well, just make it clear to him that he loves the game.
Then you'll be able to convince him to train you."

"Yeah, but how can I do that? I tried my best during dinner, but he just kept
laughing," Ken pouted, thick brows knitted tightly.

"Just… do what you can do best," Mamori advised. "If you manage to recruit
some people for your team tomorrow, he may see that you're serious about this
matter and he might reconsider what you said… Do you know what? I'm making him
get you from school tomorrow. I'll send him in a little earlier so that he can
see how good you are doing."

"But, mom! We don't have practice tomorrow!" Ken protested.

"Well then, you better have, because it may be your only chance to leave some
impression," Mamori grinned and patted her pouting son's shoulder again. "Make
up a good training plan for tomorrow, I'm going to see Sachiko to bed."

Before Ken was able to voice any protest, his mother had left the room, content
with herself.

~*~

"Daddy, why is You-ji still laughing?" Sachiko, who sat in her father's lap,
asked innocently as she pulled on her father's new tie. Musashi chuckled, glad
that she pulled on the end that would not choke him to death.

"I don't know, love," the man sighed and shot the blond a glare. "Maybe he
remembers a really funny joke that somebody told him?"

"Oh!" the girl clapped into her hands happily. "Can he tell us that joke? I want
to hear a good joke, too!"

"Kekeke, fucking princess, you wouldn't understand it anyways," Hiruma cackled,
already holding his stomach from laughing so much.

"But You-ji," the girl said sternly with a look that resembled one of her
mother's, "it's not nice to laugh without telling the others why you're doing
so."

"She's right," Musashi chimed in, looking expectantly at the blond. "So either
you stop laughing right now on behalf of my son or-"

"He got both your and his mother's stupidity," Hiruma said quickly. "And you,
fucking princess, I thought you weren't prone to making up names for people."

"I'm not making up a name for you," Sachiko pouted. "Uncle Hiruma is just too
long to say-"

"And it makes me sound like an old pervert," the blond stated, a fleeting wave
of shock washing over his face.

"You are an old pervert," Musashi mumbled, not loud enough for his daughter to
hear though. Hiruma on the other hand – being blessed with superhuman hearing
– heard it well and grinned broadly.

"And You-ji is a lot more easier to say," Sachiko concluded, fully ignoring what
the men were bantering about.

For a moment Hiruma looked at her as if he was going to bite her head off. She
never backed up though and held his gaze defiantly, her arms crossed over her
chest. Musashi watched the silent battle and shook his head in semi-amusement.
Really, if he needed another confirmation that his daughter was just exactly
like her mother, it was this staring-contest with Hiruma. Just the same as back
then. They used to argue about everything as well and it always ended exactly
the same way.

Hiruma started to grin and then chuckled again, patting the girl's head. "Fine,
I like your guts. You can call me You-ji."

"Yay!" the girl cheered, jumping up from Musashi's lap just to hug Hiruma
quickly, before he could back off, around his neck. Overwhelmed like that,
Hiruma had no other choice but to wrap his arms around the little body and
before he knew it, he had his arms full of her and lifted her up.

Musashi's smile grew and decided that Hiruma needed to spend more times with
kids. His kids especially, since he needed to warm up to them, if he wanted to
spend more time at his house.

The man frowned, wondering what he was thinking about now when suddenly, he
heard Mamori enter the room.

"Alright, little lady, it's time for you to go to bed now!" Mamori said loudly,
announcing her presence. A loud protesting sound followed this and Sachiko
pressed her face against Hiruma's shoulder, hiding her face so that he mother
would not see her. All three adults' eyes widened in surprise, and Hiruma looked
down at her head in surprise.

"You don't want to go to bed?"

Sachiko shook her head, still hiding her face against his shirt.

"Oh, well, I don't like to sleep either," Hiruma admitted, grinning down at her
when she looked up at him in surprise.

"You don't?" she asked, sounding hopeful that he would help her in her quest to
prolong sleeping time successfully this time.

"Hiruma…" Mamori warned, her voice warning him not to tell her anything
stupid.

"No, I can't sleep well," the blond admitted. "I have so many things to do, so
much stuff to take care off that I don't want to sleep."

"Yes! So much to do!" Sachiko nodded seriously. "I have to finish that puzzle
that I got for my birthday! It's really important!"

"Oh really?" Hiruma said. "You know, your father once told me that he needs his
sleep, more than anything. I told him he was stupid for that, but he said, he
would not be able to think, walk or talk straight if he was sleepy. I brushed it
off, but I knew that he was right."

"Really?" The girl's big round eyes looked up at him and he had to suppress a
toothy grin, but only managed half-heartedly.

Hiruma nodded. "I brushed it off, but I soon drifted off to sleep in the most
ridiculous places… it almost bordered on narcolepsy."

"Narco…?" Sachiko repeated, her brow furrowing.

"It's a really bad sickness," Mamori chimed in. "Do you want to get sick?"

The girl shook her head viciously.

"Well, then I'll get you upstairs and get you to bed, okay?"

"No!" Sachiko shook her head again. "I want You-ji to carry me to bed tonight!"

"But-" Mamori tried, but Hiruma shook it off with a laugh.

"It's fine. I haven't told her the whole story yet and she deserves it."

"If you just leave out the… adult parts," Mamori mumbled, giving him a dark,
warning look.

The blond grinned. "Don't worry, I won't. I don't want to have both your wraths
directed at me for corrupting your youngest offspring."

"Ne, ne! Tell me! What happened then?" Sachiko bounced up and down in his arms,
giving him a hard time to hold her.

"I tell you once you're in your bed, okay?"

"Okay!"

Musashi watched in disbelief as Hiruma followed Mamori out of the living room,
the child securely holding onto as if her life depended on it. And he did not
look unhappy about it, too. Maybe things had changed more than he had thought at
first.

~*~

After a tour through the rooms upstairs – led by Sachiko herself, who eagerly
explained every detail to her new uncle – Hiruma had carried her from the
upper bathroom to her bed.

"You know, the only one who can make me sleep soundly is your father," he said
silently, so that nobody else in the girl's room could hear it. "But it's a
secret that I never told anyone, okay? So you have to keep it to yourself,
understood?"

"Yes! I won't tell anybody! I will take it to the grave!" she said cheerily.
"How does he do it?"

Hiruma chuckled. Of course she wanted to know. "I can't tell you yet. Your
mother would kill me if she knew that I did…"

"Aww..." Sachiko pouted, making Hiruma grin.

"Well, you can say he gives me a special goodnight kiss," the blond explained,
watching with amusement how the girl's eyes grew in surprise.

"Really? Mommy gives me a special goodnight kiss, too! She does it every night,"
she said, nodding wildly, "it makes me feel good! First she kissed my forehead,
then my left cheek, then my right cheek and then kisses my nose! It tickles a
bit, but it cheers me up every time!"

Hiruma laughed softly. "Yeah, something like that. Come on, I'll get her for you
so that you can sleep-"

"No! No!" Sachiko interrupted him. "I want you to kiss me goodnight today!"

Too surprised to say anything, Hiruma's eyes widened considerably and he almost
forgot to breathe so that he did not break out into laughter. Instead, he
managed to only snort, but shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. I'm not your mother or your father-"

"But you're uncle You-ji!" Sachiko reasoned. "You can kiss me goodnight because
I said so!"

"Maybe another day," Hiruma mumbled as he turned away from the bed. "Sleep
well."

"Aww… Okay! Sleep well, too! Bye-bye!" Sachiko waved at him. "But tomorrow
you'll kiss me goodnight, okay?"

But Hiruma had already left the room. Mamori smiled wryly as he stepped closer
to the bed and delivered the goodnight kiss to her daughter. "Don't bother him
too much… he's not a family person."

"I think he was doing pretty well," Musashi said softly as he put a hand on her
shoulder. "His only problem is with getting close to somebody…"

"I know," the woman sighed, patting her husband's hand. "Come on, go after him.
I'll say goodnight to the boys and then go to bed myself… I bet you two have a
lot to talk about, don't you?"

Musashi did not know what to say to that, but he nodded anyways and followed his
wife's advice.



                          Kapitel 8: Sorry, Try Again
                          ---------------------------


Musashi found Hiruma sitting on the couch in the living room, doing nothing else
but staring at the photos on the mantelpiece. All of them showed a happy family,
the kids that grew over the years and their parents that aged slowly, but
steadily.

The blond's gaze seemed to flicker towards one picture in particular though, one
that showed the Takekuras at the beginning of their marriage, a one or
two-year-old Youichi on his proud father's arms, holding a football in his too
small hands. The boy's hair already stood up into all possible directions and he
looked very much like his namesake. The fact that his ears seemed to be a little
larger than normal did not help matters much.

Hiruma snorted, and turned his head to look at Musashi. "You do remember that
I'm not a natural blond, don't you?"

The other man shrugged, smiling enigmatically as he sat down in the armchair
next to the couch. "I do. And Mamori does, too. But I also remember that you
promised to kill both of us should we ever tell anybody about it."

"'Che, yeah, I did say that, didn't I?" Hiruma snorted, continuing to stare at
the pictures. The second son, Ken, was a spitting image of his father at that
age, minus the beard and the prominent cheekbones. He still looked like a normal
teenager and not like some old man who had lost his way into a high school.
Involuntarily, Hiruma started to wonder what his kids would look like had he
ever produced any.

"You did," Musashi smiled. "Also, Youichi would not have believed the story
otherwise. He needs proof for everything that creates a doubt inside his mind."

"So that paternity test was a blatant lie?" Hiruma asked, snorting as Musashi
gave him a crooked grin. "Fucking old man, you've come a long way to your own
downfall."

"Sometimes a lie is better than the truth if it gets you what you want, wasn't
that your motto?" Musashi pointed out, suddenly remembering one of their first
encounters during junior high school. "I still have no idea what your parents
are doing, by the way."

"They're dead," Hiruma dead-panned, without any emotion in his voice.

The other's eyes widened at that, this time knowing that it was not a lie, or at
least the closest to the truth that Hiruma would tell. "I'm sorry."

Shrugging, the blond replied, "Don't be. I hardly knew them anyways anymore. And
don't try to tell me that they were my parents and all, because, really, I don't
care about those fuckers at all."

For a moment, Musashi stayed completely silent, just watching his friend's face.
Then he snorted.

"What?" Hiruma asked, suspecting something.

"You were doing a pretty good job with Sachiko," the other pointed out. "I never
thought that you'd be good with kids."

"It's nothing else than taking care of a bunch of football-kids," Hiruma
shrugged again, glad that Musashi decided to change the subject. "You know, like
back then, during high school."

"I know," the man chuckled, "I always thought of you as the mother of the team.
And Mamori as the super nanny."

"What the fuck?!" Hiruma glared, sitting up straight at once. "You dare to…
What the fuck?!"

"Aw, come on, don't tell me you didn't know about that," Musashi laughed.
"Everybody thought of you as the center of the team and since we were
practically your family with you in charge of everything… Sena also called you
the mother of the team when he held the speech on the tenth anniversary of us
winning the Christmas Bowl."

"'Che. The fucking shrimp is stupid. How the hell can I be called a mother
figure?" Hiruma mumbled, looking away in embarrassment.

"I don't know, but everybody wholeheartedly agreed on what he said and
congratulated him on his speech. You can imagine how uncomfortably he felt
afterwards," Musashi told him with a fond smile. "All he could say was 'I'm glad
that Hiruma-san isn't here… he would have killed me straight on the spot.'"

"Damn right, I would have!" Hiruma growled. Then he started to chuckle. "Did he
call you the father of the team, too? Because that's what you were-"

"Heh, I remember we had a talk about that, once, too," Musashi interrupted him.
"That time? In the toilet on Mamori's birthday? When we were playing that video
game?"

"Kekeke, yes, I remember. Everybody was scared shitless that I took a fucking
princess," Hiruma cackled, remembering happier times. "You know what? I haven't
given you a present for your birthday."

Smiling, Musashi waved it off. "You don't have to. You coming back to Japan is
the best present I've had in years."

The blond blinked, surprised by that sudden confession. "What? Not even the tie
your daughter made for you this year was better than this? It's a real piece of
art, too," Hiruma cackled, holding up the multicolored piece of cloth.

Musashi chuckled sheepishly. "I get these every year… You should have seen
Youichi's first tie… It was so brightly colored that you could only look at it
with sunglasses."

"That kid knows how to use colors? And here I thought he must have inherited his
artistic skills from his mother," Hiruma grinned, standing up and straddling
Musashi's waist without any prior warning. "Now, could you please stop talking
about them? It annoys me when I wanted to give you my present…"

Almost involuntarily, Musashi's hands found their way to the blond's narrow
hips, holding him securely in place even though it was the last thing that he
wanted to do. "I've already got you, what else can you give me?" he mumbled,
knowing exactly what he was provoking the other to say and do.

Long, slender and pale arms hooked up behind his neck, long-fingered hands
threading through his hair, gently massaging his scalp as Hiruma leaned in close
to his ear. Close enough that he felt every breath but too far away to touch.
"You know exactly what I have to give to you. And I know you want it, badly,"
the blond husked, thrusting his groin against the other's. "I bet you didn't
have a decent fucking in all these years that I left you… I know I didn't."

Musashi chuckled, his cheeks turning a little pink at the prospect of having
Hiruma for himself again, but his responsible self made him hold back. "Oh, you
know best how Mamori can be in bed, if stimulated in the right way…"

"And you're the best to stimulate anybody in bed, huh?"

"Besides you, that is," Musashi grinned back, realizing that his hands had been
sliding up and down the blond's sides all the time. This whole situation was
making him hard, harder than he had been in years. It must be something that
Hiruma emitted, some pheromones that just screamed: "You know you want to fuck
me!" And Musashi was an easy prey to those.

He inhaled deeply, reveling in the feeling of Hiruma's muscles under his hands,
a feeling that he had missed for twenty years. The little hairs on his back
stood on edge and a shudder ran down his spine and all he wanted to do was rip
the clothes off that delicious body to try and see if they still fit as well as
they did all these years ago.

"Oh, I don't deserve that praise," Hiruma mumbled, leaning in for a kiss, when
all of a sudden they heard the door open.

"I'm going to bed now, honey! Don't take too long, you know you have to get up
early!" Mamori said from the entrance to the living room. "Oh, and don't forget
to show Hiruma the guestroom, okay?"

"Alright, honey!" Musashi managed to answer, even though he was completely red
in the face, but Mamori was not able to see that because Hiruma's back was
covering her view.

"See you later," she smiled and waved at them before she left. "Have a good
night, Hiruma!"

"Thank you," the blond mumbled, all of his mood gone suddenly. "You, too," he
sighed as he climbed off Musashi's lap reluctantly, sagging down onto the couch.
"Fuck, talk about a mood killer."

Musashi sighed deeply, once more willing away a raging hard-on and glad that his
wife knew about how he felt towards that blond demon. He figured that he would
be sleeping on the couch tonight if she were the jealous type… And he knew
that if he had been condemned to sleep on the couch, he would find his way to
Hiruma's bed quicker than anybody could say "American Football." This would be
the beginning of the end.

But damn, he wanted it so much, every cell in his body was drawn towards Hiruma
so badly that it almost hurt. He tried to breathe it away, but the feeling was
still there and he had to force himself to stay seated.

"…You should go to sleep," Hiruma said suddenly, sounding just as emotionless
as he did when he was talking about his parents earlier.

"…You're right," Musashi sighed and finally pushed himself up to a stand.
"Come, I'll show you the guest room."

"I'm fine with the couch," Hiruma tried to protest, but the other would not let
him.

"Come on, you need a bed to sleep in and we happen to have a spare one," Musashi
argued, pinching the bridge of his nose. His headache from earlier was back,
full force. He really needed some sleep soon, or he would not be able to do
anything at all.

"I slept during the flight. A full 8 hours," Hiruma said in a flat tone.

"…Wow. That long?" Musashi asked, truly astounded.

Hiruma snorted. "Yeah, that long. Don't act that surprised, despite what I told
your daughter, I am able to sleep on my own."

"How long do you usually sleep?" Musashi asked, ignoring the last stab.

"That's none of your business anymore," Hiruma said, glaring at him. "But if you
insist, show me that fucking guest room of yours."

Musashi shook his head with a small sigh, smiling wryly. Obviously, Hiruma had
not changed his habits at all. Then, he stood up and waited for the blond to do
the same, watching him gather his bag and stuff before he led him upstairs into
the one empty room that Sachiko had not shown him earlier. On the way upstairs
they met Yoichi though.

"Where are you going, young man?" Musashi stopped his son mid-step.

"Out," was the short answer. Hiruma raised an eyebrow, watching the scene
curiously.

"At this time?"

Youichi shrugged, not looking into his father's eyes. "Yeah, why not? It's not
like I am not allowed to, am I?"

"Well, I can't stop you, that's right, but-"

"Look, dad, I'll be back around midnight, and I'll be up before you tomorrow
morning, too. I don't need as much sleep as you do," Youichi shrugged.

"You're not meeting Emi, are you?" Musashi said sternly, making Hiruma wonder
who this Emi-person was.

"Dad, you know she has school tomorrow. Do you think I'd be so irresponsible and
meet her that late at night? 'Ch, you know that both Mom and
Suzuna-ba-san[sup]1[/sup] would kill me if I did," Youichi shrugged. "I'm
meeting a few friends from university. We're going to a Karaoke-bar, nothing
serious."

Musashi looked at his son over for a few moments and Hiruma had to hold back a
chuckle as he could see the boy quiver slightly under that stern gaze.

"Alright, but if I'm up earlier than you tomorrow, I will have a word or two
with you," he said.

"Whatever you say, dad," Youichi grinned and sprinted down the stairs, grabbing
his keys and his jacket. "Good night!"

"Yeah, yeah, good night! And try to have not too much fun, okay?"

But Youichi was already out of the door.

"You know that he was lying, right?" Hiruma asked quietly.

Musashi shrugged. "I know. He's probably seeing Emi no matter what, but well,
it's not like I can stop him. I just have to listen to Suzuna complain about her
little girl's grades dropping every Sunday," he sighed. "But really, they have
not gotten any worse since they have gotten together. On the contrary, I think
that Youichi has been helping her with some of her not-so-favorite subjects."

Hiruma cackled slightly and decided to wait until Sunday to find out if he
assumed correctly about the girl's father.

~*~

Musashi was in a surprising hurry to show Hiruma the guest room and then excuse
himself to go to bed.

"Meet me for lunch at Ocean Avenue tomorrow. I want to show you something," he
said before he closed the door behind him, not leaving Hiruma any chance to
confirm or refuse the offer. But the blond just shrugged. He did not have
anything better to do tomorrow either, so why not meet the other for lunch
again?

~*~

"Did Youichi go out again?" Mamori asked as Gen entered the bedroom.

"Mhm," her husband hummed, slowly undressing himself.

"That boy… when will he learn that Emi needs to sleep more than he does?" The
woman sighed, putting the book that she had been reading onto the nightstand.

"He said he's going to meet a few friends for Karaoke," Gen said, pulling out
his pajamas from his side of the bed.

"And you believed him? Gen, Gen, when do you learn-"

"No, I didn't. Hiruma did neither," the man grinned, looking like a teenager
himself. "But he's young and I said it's alright if he gets up earlier than me
tomorrow morning."

"Honestly?"

"Mhm."

Mamori laughed gently. "You guys, you're all the same. You only think with your
brain down there."

"That's not true, and you know it," Gen said as he climbed into the bed next to
her.

"Oh, really? That looked a little different just a while ago," Mamori chuckled.
"When Hiruma was all over you."

"Please…"

"No, it's alright," she said, smiling gently. "I know what he means to you. And
I also know what you mean to him. You two share a bond that we were never able
to build, I know that, despite all the years that we've been together."

Musashi blinked, slightly surprised by his wife's insight.

"He's your first love… and you're… you're probably the only one he loved
completely unconditionally, because you never questioned his ways… that's
something… something I was never able to do," she mumbled sadly, staring down
at her hands.

Gen looked at her for a few moments, at the same time incredibly happy that she
was his wife and just as sad that they were not the perfect couple that people
saw in them, that there was Hiruma between them. Gently, he put a hand on her
cheek, making her turn her face towards him.

"…I'm sorry… would you… would you rather have him make advances towards
you?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She looked at him wide eyes before she started laughing. "Hell, no! I've been
over that for over twenty years. You can do anything you want, you hear?
Anything. You two can… have your way like you did during High School and
university… I just… I just don't want all of this to crumble and fall into
pieces… We put so much effort in building up this life for the both of us and
our children… Don't throw it away for a dream that cannot come true. You're
not a teenager anymore."

Musashi chuckled wryly. "I know… I know. Although sometimes I wish I still was
17." He leaned forward and kissed her softly. "You're too kind for me. Sometimes
I don't think that I deserve you."

"Oh, you don't," Mamori answered quickly, grinning back at him. "But you're the
best father figure I've ever encountered, that's why I have you where you are
now."

______________________________

[sup]1[/sup]ba-san – aunt



                            Kapitel 9: Twentythree
                            ----------------------


Mamori stared at the man sleeping soundly beside her and shuddered, pulling the
blanket closer around her naked body. For a heartbeat she wondered how things
had come to this, but then again, it had been a sequence of logical events.

The evening had started with her and Musashi studying together at his place for
a test, the last test of the semester. They had taken up a habit to study
together because they had taken mostly the same courses. Hiruma sometimes joined
them in, when he felt like it, but most of the time it was just the two of them.
The girl had never thought anything of it, it was just her and a good friend
studying. Of course she had admired Musashi for his looks, his personality and
friendliness, but it was nothing than a deep friendship to her. Of course she
had played his girlfriend once when he was visiting his fatally ill father to
give an old man the illusion that his son had found a woman to produce the next
heir, but in her mind he was off-limits.

Then, a few hours prior, Musashi’s telephone had rung. He had answered it and
while he did, all the color slowly vanished from his face. Worried, Mamori
walked over silently, putting a gentle hand onto his shoulder, but he did not
seem to notice here, just talked mechanically into the phone. From what she
heard though, she gathered that his father had died. It was a relief really,
because of his long sickness, his weakened bones and all, but still it seemed to
be a shock to this otherwise so calm person.

Gently she had rubbed his back, soothingly, when he had ended the phone call,
his face as white as chalk, his hands shaking and cold as he hugged her close
and started to cry. It was both a terrifying and heart-rending scene to see Gen
Takekura cry over the loss of a close family member. It was even more terrifying
because he was literally soaking her blouse.

She had tried to calm him down, she had done her best, really, but he kept
shaking and crying until Mamori had no idea anymore what to do and started to
kiss away his tears. Alas, this did not have the wanted effect and instead of
calming Musashi down, he kissed her. On the mouth. Deeply, so that she had to
gasp and give way to her mouth.

Overwhelmed, she realized what Musashi was up to as he made quick work of her
blouse and was surprised to find that she did not mind. She knew that this had
probably no meaning the next morning, but it was not like she was averse to
having sex with him at that moment, if it helped to calm him down…

Maybe her wild side had not really died down after her relationship with Hiruma
that had ended with a disaster. Luckily though, they had started talking again
and while Musashi was around, they could be described as good friends, too.
Still, things were a little chilly between them and they ensured to keep a safe
distance from each other most of the time.

So, being touched and loved by Musashi the way he did right when he led her to
his bed, felt a little blasphemous to her, but it was more than just easy to
ignore it while it lasted. Now, that the waves had calmed down though and she
was alone with her thoughts, all that she could think of was, “Oh my god!
Hiruma is going to kill me!”

It was like an unwritten rule; nobody who was in his right mind laid a finger on
anything that was precious to Hiruma. The only exception was Musashi, who was
allowed to do a few more things than an average person could. For a few months,
Mamori had been in that favorable position, too, but after that, Musashi had
moved up in that list again, just above her.

Therefore, she had done the unthinkable; she had slept with the only person that
Hiruma still loved. She felt somehow blasphemous, dirty and as if she had just
defiled the purity Musashi meant to her, namely that Hiruma was the one and only
for him and she was only the coverage.

But wait, it had been him that had attacked her. She had tried to convince him
otherwise, even if it had been – admittedly – a little half-heartedly, but
he had not stopped. So, her conscience supplied, it was not her fault at all, it
was entirely Musashi’s.

Next to her, the young man stirred, rolling from his front to his back as he
sleepily rubbed his eyes. “What’cha doin’ there… Get back t’sleep,”
he mumbled, making a lazy movement with his arm to signal her to lie down on his
chest.

She blushed again, but no reason to refuse the offer came to her mind. Thus,
with a deep sigh, she crawled back under the covers and rested her head on his
broad chest, listening to his strong and steady heartbeat, that soothed away her
fears and worries until she finally fell asleep.

~*~

The next day he asked her with a cute little blush to accompany him to the
hospital and the necessary places to take care of his father’s funeral. Being
as faithful and nice as she was, she did all these things with a smile, even as
her worries because of Hiruma grew. However, these days they were so busy that
she was not even able to look back on everything herself, and when she was
finally able to breathe again, she realized that a whole year had passed and
that there was only one semester of university left for her, Gen and Hiruma.

Naturally, she indulged herself into studying more, along with Gen and also
Hiruma, who seemed to take this thing that was going on between her and Gen
easier than she had expected, he even encouraged them once to hold hands in
public to keep the picture. With no sadistic stab behind it, like he usually
like to include. Mamori suspected that it had something to do with the fact that
the two have them had just spent the better of a weekend together.

Gen was always better at explaining things to Hiruma than she had been, mostly
because Hiruma actually bothered to listed to his words whenever he said
something, unlike to her. Sure, they talked, he reacted to what she said, but he
never listened to her. Over the time she realized that it had always been like
that and that – despite everything that had happened – this was the real
reason, why she had broken up with him. He was all right as a friend, very
loyal, too, but the fact that he knew everything better than she did got so much
on the nerves that it became unbearable to her.

She still wondered where Gen took all his patience from concerning Hiruma.
However, she understood better and better each day why these two felt drawn so
much towards each other. It was as if they were two opposite sides of a magnet.
The other could not live without the other, but there was just too much in this
world that stopped them from being together.

One, Gen thought it was impossible to be successful in this world if you were
openly gay, even though there were a few examples from other countries. Two,
Hiruma did not want to be open. He wanted to be together with Musashi, but
nothing steady, just some simple kiss-and-run relationship that went so much
deeper than he let on. Mamori honestly thought that it was sad that they
happened to agree that their relationship had no future when it was all that
they wanted.

~*~

“Maybe we should just marry,” Gen said during a vacation – courtesy of a
company that was impressed by Takekura Constructions’ good work and its CEO
– with his ‘fiancée’ on Hawaii.

Mamori looked at him with wide eyes. “Is that a proposal?” she asked,
incredulously.

The other just shrugged. “A suggestion, maybe. To be honest, I… have to
marry soon. Somehow, my life has already attracted too much public interest as
it is, everything else… Everything else I could do from now on would just harm
the success we both have worked for so hard. And… it’s not like I have the
time or energy to look for another woman to share my life with.”

She looked at him for a long time, sea-gulls shrieking in the air above them.
The sea washed against the shore in soothing movements, the sky was blue, but
Mamori’s mind was on only one thing. Or rather person.

“What about-“

“You know about… him,” Gen interrupted her rudely. “It’s not like I
could marry him. Unless he was a woman, would not run around with his weapons as
he loves to and would not do all the things that he does because he can’t
change who he is.”

“…I understand.”

Gen looked up at her from behind his shades and sat up straight, apologetically
caressing her cheek. “…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

She shook her head, smiling wryly. “No, no, you’re right. It would be easy
for you to marry Hiruma… if he was not what he was... the demon we both like
so much.”

Gen smiled back at her just as wryly. “I just… want to assure you that I
don’t see you as a substitute for him.”

Laughing out loudly, she patted his arm. “I’d never thought you’d do that,
really. Hiruma and I are just too different to serve as some kind of substitute
for the other.”

“Oh, there are some similarities, really,” Gen chuckled. “You’re both
very motherly.”

Her laughter increased. “Oh, oh! I just had the greatest picture in my head:
Hiruma in a pink apron in front of the oven with kids hanging at his arms while
he desperately tried to prepare something to eat. And-“ she laughed harder,
“he’s wearing make-up!”

Gen chuckled slightly, agreeing on the fact that the sight would be very funny.
“Add a skirt and he would have a very happy husband,” he mumbled lowly, just
so that she could hear it.

Her laughter bubbled away to something softer, but her eyes showed a deviousness
that could rival Hiruma’s. “Oh, so that’s your secret fetish? …Wait! Is
that the reason why you ‘borrowed’ my uniform during High School before that
one Halloween?”

As the man did not answer, but bit his lip sheepishly, a little blush gracing
his cheeks, she hit him playfully. “How many times did you two do it that
night?”

“…You don’t want to know,” Gen mumbled as he recalled the angry look she
had given them when they arrived at the Deimon’s Halloween party. He also felt
as if he was suffering a heatstroke as he recalled just how irresistible Hiruma
looked when he was wearing a skirt…

He looked down onto the sand and hoped that no blood was dripping from his
nose.

“Is… is that a nosebleed?” Mamori asked, sounding incredulously amused.
“You’re not bleeding from your nose, are you? Yes, you are!”

She could not stop her laughter after that anymore, and she laughed so hard,
that Gen had to shut her up in the most elegant way that he knew.

~*~

One month after that vacation, Mamori stood in front of Gen’s door, looking
not very happy. He let her in, worried about what was wrong and promptly asked
her. He was never one to waste much time with pretty words and she respected
that. So she simply said those three little words.

“I am pregnant.”

“…” Gen stared at her with wide eyes.

“…” Mamori did not dare to look up, remembering the last time she had said
these words.

“Really?”

She nodded feebly.

“Well, then, we’ve got no other choice,” Gen sighed and took out his cell
phone.

“…What are you doing?”

He just grinned enigmatically and kissed her forehead. “Stupid. We are going
to marry.”

“…Really?” She thought that she was dreaming.

“Remember what I said to you on Hawaii? I meant it,” Gen said, “and now
that you’re… that you’re carrying our child it’s even more important. I
can‘t let my child grow up without a family.”

Mamori just stared at him, totally baffled. “But… but… What about-?“

“That’s not important right now. Right now, everything that matters are you
and the child,” Gen said.

The young woman still stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open. Once
again, it showed that Gen and Hiruma were just the complete opposite. She was
moved so much that she did not notice how a tear ran down her cheek.

“So, what’s your answer?”

“Huh?”

“Will you marry me?”

One year later, Takekura Constructions’ rise to one of Tokyo’s biggest
constructions companies started.



                             Kapitel 10: Drifting
                             --------------------


The night had been surprisingly eventful for Hiruma. He had heard Youichi return
home around one o'clock, but around two he heard some noise from Ken's room, as
if the younger Takekura-son had some late night visit or had sneaked out. For a
moment, he looked up from his laptop, frowning at the noise, as he had not
thought the boy was prone to such activities. About an hour later, he heard
another noise, again from Ken's room, as if somebody was leaving this time, but
he still shrugged it off as nothing.

Three hours later, he had finished off everything he needed to take care off and
shut down his laptop. He had managed to arrange for a new hotel room starting
later that day, and he planned to reduce the rent by telling the hotel owner he
knew what he had done 22 years ago. Nothing important, just his usual way on
bargaining for something fair instead of the horrendous prices normal people had
to pay.

While he still wondered if he should take a nap or so to bridge the time gap
until the rest of the family was awake, he heard little feet running through the
hall outside. Curiosity peaked, he stuck his head outside to see if somebody was
already awake and if he could go down and make himself some coffee.

"Good morning, You-ji!" Sachiko greeted him cheerfully, bouncing up and down on
the balls of her feet in front of him. "Let's have breakfast together!"

He raised an eyebrow and knelt down in front of her, just to be hugged tightly.
Thus, he had no other choice but to pick her up as he straightened up into a
stand. "I think your mother should-"

"Good morning, Hiruma," Mamori greeted him as she suddenly appeared from her and
Musashi's bedroom. 

"…Morning," the blond mumbled, slightly annoyed by the over-excited child that
clung to him. "Good morning, mum!"

"Good morning Sachiko," Mamori smiled, leaning up a bit on her toes to kiss her
daughter's cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes! I did!" Sachiko cheered, starting to tell her mother about her dream in
vivid colors. Hiruma rolled his eyes, sighed again and wondered if he would ever
be able to get rid for good of that bundle in his arms. Suddenly the door to
Ken's room opened and a very sleepy looking bed-head moved out of it.

"…Oh. Everyone's awake already," the teenager mumbled. "'m gonna take a shower
quick… Mom, where is my-"

"I put your training clothes back in your bag," Mamori answered his unfinished
question as she pressed a kiss to his cheek as well. Suddenly Hiruma was glad
that she had not kissed him as a greeting. "Aren't you a little late? Usually
you're already down in the kitchen around this time…"

"Yeah, I know. I kinda… overslept. But it's not like I'll miss anything.
Tamura and Ohkawa won't be at the field until half past eight... Lazy asses," he
added as an afterthought, glancing over to Hiruma who was still dressed in the
same clothes as last night.

The blond tried not to grin too much, suddenly realizing what kind of noises he
had heard last night from the boy's room. He did not know if his parents knew
that he had a nightly visitor, but he thought nothing of it. He was 16 years
old, he was allowed to have some fun at night. Hiruma knew that the boy's father
had not been any better at his age, with the only difference that Musashi had
been working instead of going to school.

Ken's gaze wavered a little under his grin and the blond was sure to spot a
little blush on the teenager's cheeks, but neither of them dared to say anything
and the boy quickly fled into the bathroom for his shower.

Hiruma intended to hand Sachiko over to Mamori, but somehow the woman managed to
talk him into taking care of the girl by changing her diapers, helping her dress
and braiding her hair into pigtails. He was surprised by the lack of resistance
he put up, but – save for the part with the diapers – it had not been that
bad. The diapers though… that was a completely different story. Hiruma simply
decided that he would never ever again change any diapers in his whole life. It
just was not worth the nerves he had lost. At least his flamethrower had been
useful as he got rid of the offensive stink bomb.

Physically and mentally exhausted, he carried Sachiko down into the kitchen, put
her down in her chair and plopped down on one himself. About a moment later, a
mug full of steaming hot coffee appeared almost magically in front of him. He
looked at it curiously and sipped at the black liquid, just to raise his
eyebrows in surprise.

"…You have gotten better at this," he mumbled, seeing her blush slightly under
his praise.

"I had twenty years of practice," she said. "I hope you didn't have too many
problems changing Sachiko's diapers."

Snorting, Hiruma took another gulp of the coffee and waved it off. "It wasn't
the worst thing I have ever done in my life… but I won't do it again. Ever.
Don't bother asking."

Mamori chuckled softly as she took the empty plate from Ken who had just
finished his breakfast, already standing up to get ready to leave for school.
"Those were exactly my thoughts when I first changed Youichi's diapers. Really,
that smell is ungodly."

Hiruma snorted again and shook his head, watching how Mamori prepared Sachiko's
food. The girl had gotten uncharacteristically silent, only clapping into her
little hands as she saw how her bowl of pulp was placed in front of her. As
Mamori started to feed her though, he looked away, involuntarily wondering what
it would have been like if he had married her and they had had children. Would
they have lived in a house like this with lots of kids? Or what would have
been?

He quickly closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, because this thinking
would get him nowhere. He knew that he was no family guy, that he would have
been a horrendous father and that he did not really like all this family stuff
at all. Sure, it felt nice to be pampered by a mother like Mamori once in a
while, but after a few weeks it would drive him insane. It almost did 25 years
ago, so he had spent most of the time with her with fucking her senseless to
make her stop worrying about him.

Frowning deeply, he almost did not notice how Youichi entered the room. "Good
morning!"

"Good morning, Youichi," his mother greeted him, smiling a smile that just
screamed danger. Hiruma grinned to himself. No, he really did not like the idea
of a family. You just had to explain yourself too much to the mother. "I heard
that you went out again last night."

"Oh, um, yes I did. I went to karaoke with some friends," the younger blond said
quickly. From sitting right next to him, Hiruma could see that the younger blond
had a piercing in his ear, just where his started to get pointy. He chuckled and
watched the scene unfold itself in front of him.

"Karaoke, yes? I hope it was really just karaoke. I hope you didn't do elsewhere
with Emi, hm?" the woman asked, feeding Sachiko her pulp as if she was not
threatening her oldest son between the lines.

"Yup, just karaoke with some friends from university. You can ask them if you
want to," Youichi said, chewing away on his slice of toast as he studied the
newspaper.

"Oh, it's not that important. If I recall correctly you had an arrangement with
your father that you can do everything as you wish as long as you're up earlier
than he is. And you are, so there should be no problem for you," Mamori answered
and the "but" at the end of the last sentence was so clearly audible that even
Hiruma felt a little guilty himself even though he was the one that had done the
least wrong.

"…But?" Youichi asked as the silence became unbearable to him.

"Oh, if I hear any complaints from Suzuna-chan, you know what expects you,"
Mamori said almost cheerfully, and all Hiruma wanted to do was break out
laughing loudly, but he just leaned back with a snicker.

The other blond rolled his eyes though and shook his head. "One month of
housework, I know. Geez, don't get so worked up over it. It's not like I'm
making her skip school or anything. We're just… having fun, just like normal
teenagers do, alright? I'm even helping her with school when she has problems.
Honestly. It would be too great if you and Suzuna-ba-chan would stop pestering
me about it. I'm no bad guy, okay?"

"Oh, it's fine," Mamori said, putting down Sachiko's spoon for a moment. "I
trust you that you know what you're doing, just do it well. You don't know when
something's going to happen that will change your life."

"…Whatever you say, mom," Youichi mumbled with a frown. He turned back to his
breakfast, just when Musashi walked through the kitchen door.

"Good morning, everyone," he greeted his family and Hiruma, sitting down next to
his son, since Hiruma had claimed his seat unknowingly. "I see you're up early,
son. That's good."

"Please, dad, mom just gave me the lecture before you came in. No need to do it
again," the younger blond rolled his eyes.

"Oh, nothing like that had been on my mind, really," Musashi said, feigning
innocence, but Hiruma could see a little twinkle in his eyes. "I just hope you
had fun last night."

"Yeah, it was quite alright," Youichi grinned. "I'll tell you details later, if
you want to, but now I'm off for university. I'll be late today, because I'm
needed at that site in Yokohama, so don't wait up for me. I'll eat out, so you
don't have to leave me dinner either."

Hiruma finished his coffee as Mamori tried to make her son admit that he just
wanted to meet Emi after school instead of working, but he insisted on it until
he left. Musashi just finished his breakfast, too, when the blond stood up to
pack up his things.

"I found a new hotel to stay at, so don't count me in for dinner tonight
either," he said as he left the kitchen.

"That's too sad… I really wanted to make your favorite food," Mamori said, but
just saw him shrug as an answer. She sighed deeply. "And here I thought that he
could be a part of our family, too."

Musashi smiled sympathetically. "You know that this is not his cup of tea. Give
him some time, maybe I can convince him to come over for dinner."

~*~

Around noon, Hiruma left the house of the Takekuras with his bags that he wanted
to place at the hotel, but he ended up at Ocean Avenue Café to wait for Musashi
instead, just like the old man had asked him to. If the old man wanted to meet
him that badly, he could carry his stuff, too. That was the least that he could
do to make up for the fact that he had to change some kid's diapers, among other
things.

Just before she had left, Mamori had tried to convince him to go and see Ken's
after school training, but he had told her directly that he had other plans. In
the end, even she had to give in and let him be. She just took out her phone and
wrote a quick message to somebody, probably to tell Ken that Hiruma would not
come to get him later that day. As if he cared that much. He just wanted to get
out of this family, because he had gotten in too deep already anyways. The only
thing he really wanted to do now was to spend some time alone with Musashi.

At around 2p.m. the old man finally arrived at the café, but he did not sit
down to drink some coffee with him. He just ordered two sandwiches and two cups
of coffee to go before he led Hiruma outside to his car.

"Wow, where are we going?" Hiruma asked as he sat down in the left seat in the
front.

"You'll see," Musashi smiled as he sat down in the driver's seat after securing
the food in the back.

"Hey, how far back can you put these seats?" Hiruma asked, looking for the
handle to try it out.

Musashi grinned. "All the way. But that's not what I wanted to show you."

Hiruma looked at him with a raised eyebrow where he lay on the now lowered seat
next to him. "Well then, what is it?"

"Just wait and you will see," Musashi said as he backed out and drove off
towards the south of the city.



                           Kapitel 11: Space Travel
                           ------------------------


After twenty minutes of driving, Hiruma peeked one eye open from his relaxed
state in the passenger's seat. Musashi still did not look like they would arrive
at their destination soon, so he dared to ask, "How long?"

"Not that long," Musashi said, still having this goofy grin on his face. Hiruma
frowned, slightly irritated by that grin, but chose not to prod further, closed
his eyes again and lay back in the front seat again. It was easy for him to
relax completely in the given situation so that he almost drifted off to sleep,
thanks to spending the last night awake.

Just when he finally dozed off, Musashi stopped the engine and shook him awake.
"Hey, we're there, stop sleeping," the older man said, made sure that Hiruma
opened his eyes and then left the car. While the blond stretched and yawned,
Musashi went and got his baggage from the trunk.

Hiruma got out of the car and looked around. They stood in front of an entrance
to an underground automatic parking lot, the car waiting to be put in there by a
very serious looking young man.

"Welcome back, sir," he greeted Musashi and took the keys to the car from him.
"I saw you brought a guest? That's rare."

"Yes, I did, Tetsuma-san," Musashi nodded. Hiruma raised an eyebrow as he heard
the name. "A very old friend of mine."

"Very well," Tetsuma said and nodded. "The same place as usual?"

"Yes, please. I will be leaving around 7," Musashi said and closed the trunk as
he handed the keys to the young man.

"Understood. Well then, enjoy your stay as usual," Tetsuma said just before he
sat down in the car and drove it into the elevator. Hiruma did not see the rest
of the procedure as Musashi had already led him towards the nearest elevator.
Inside it, he fumbled a key out of his pants' pocket and pushed it into the hole
on the panel with a lot of buttons to all the floors of what seemed to be a very
high building.

Hiruma frowned when the elevator started to move, not to slow, too. "Alright,
stop the secrecy. Where are we? What kind of building is this?"

"If you hadn't slept through the last part of the drive you would have seen it,"
Musashi said, a small smile playing around his lips. "Now you have to wait until
we're upstairs."

"Upstairs means what?" Hiruma said, glaring at the doors in front of him as
glaring at Musashi would not get him anywhere. He wished for a bubble gum so
that his ears would not hurt from the quickness that took them upwards, but for
now, he had to relax his eardrum otherwise.

"Upstairs means upstairs, until the top," Musashi said, leaning back against the
wall of the elevator.

Hiruma rolled his eyes and wondered when the other had started to become so
secretive, but then again, Musashi had never told him everything, so why should
he start now.

"Until the top?" he repeated and looked at the buttons to the floors again. The
last one that he saw was a 110. That was over 100 floors smaller than that one
hotel Hiruma had once visited in Dubai, but something about the number struck
him. While he wondered if it really meant what he thought it meant, he quickly
changed the subject.

"Tetsuma-san isn't Tetsuma's son, is he?" Hiruma asked. "He's too old to be his
son."

"Yes, he isn't his son," Musashi confirmed with a nod. "He's his younger cousin.
Tetsuma is still working for Kid… they're inseparable."

"They've always been," Hiruma snorted. "They were even worse than Sakuraba and
Shin."

"Or Sakuraba and Takami," Musashi added.

"Or those fucking three brothers," Hiruma ranted on. "Damn, this elevator's
taking really long. You could have sex and reach orgasm before you get to the
top at this snail pace."

Musashi snorted bemusedly. "If you say so."

"Kekeke, did you ever try it?" Hiruma asked. "I'm sure you come here often for
some 'alone time' with the fucking mother-"

"No, never," Musashi interrupted before the blond could even finish the
sentence. "Mamori doesn't know aboutthis place – Ah, we're there."

The elevator was in fact slowing down and the doors opened before Hiruma was
able to ask his next question. "She doesn't know? Why?"

"Just because," Musashi said as he put the key back into his pocket, took
Hiruma's baggage and stepped out into a small hallway. He kicked off his shoes
with practiced ease, not caring where they fell as he moved on into the next
room that already promised to have the most amazing view outside from the place
where Hiruma stood now, too surprised to take off his shoes.

Right then, he was looking straight at the sky, with a hint of the city and the
ocean underneath. The sun was very low already and you could see that there was
going to be a beautiful red afterglow of the sunset. The view was only perturbed
by a few potted plants outside on the roof of the building and the glass front
that separated the living room from the roof.

"…What is this place?" Hiruma asked as he finally managed to take off his
shoes and walk inside, seeing that it was not just a living room but an open
room that included a dining table and a kitchen on the right as well as the
aforementioned living room in front of him and a little to the right with a big
cozy couch. Behind the couch were a king-size, soft-looking bed and a wardrobe
at the wall to the hallway. From each spot of this little luxury place you had
the same breathtaking view onto the city and the ocean. 

"This is my little refuge," Musashi smiled, putting the luggage down next to
smaller sofa. "I built most of the things here myself in what little free time I
have. It took about two years to get everything done."

Hiruma stared disbelievingly at the perfectly crafted wooden furniture. "…You
made all of this yourself?"

"I just told you so," Musashi said and opened the door outside onto the
terrace.

Hiruma snorted as he watched the older one water the plants. "You are the
strangest person I've ever met."

Musashi smiled as he said, "I'm giving back that compliment to you."

~*~

About an hour later, Hiruma sat on the couch, their coffee drunk and their
sandwiches eaten, and they were talking about old times, new times and what had
happened in between. So far, Hiruma had found out that Musashi had been allowed
to keep the rooftop of this building as it was the highest one that both
Takekura Constructions and their client, Mushanokoji industries – hence they
had a Tetsuma working for them there – so as a personal little celebration
that they were able to finish this project within less than a year, TC was given
a rather generous reward.

Musashi, being the good guy that he was, gave his money to his workers and asked
– in a very nice way that he had learned from Hiruma – for this little gem.
Originally, Mushanokoji senior had wanted this place to be his son’s hideaway
with his girlfriend, but since Kid was not going to get himself a girlfriend
soon, Mushanokoji junior had agreed happily to leave this place into Musashi’s
hands. It was not like he was going to use it anyway and his father had agreed,
because Kid did a good job as it was and he could not risk that anybody would
tell the press that his son was gay.

Hiruma sighed. In other places of the earth it was possible to become a renowned
governing mayor when you were a homosexual, but in Japan – despite
Sakuraba’s open campaign – it was still impossible to be famous and famed if
you were gay.

“So, why are you showing me all this?” he asked suddenly, interrupting
Musashi’s never-ending stories of his kids. “I mean, it’s not like were
going to have sex now, since this was the longest time that we’ve been
together in one room and talked. Just talked. Like this.”

The other blinked, then chuckled softly. “Right, I’m not showing you this to
have sex with you. I knew for a fact that you would have found out about it, not
matter what. So, I thought that maybe you would like to stay here...”

“...Me? Stay here?” Hiruma asked, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Sure, why not," Musashi shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of free time to
appreciate this place, now that I'm done with it."

"…That's a really inviting offer," Hiruma said and sat his bottle of water
down on the table. Slowly, almost tantalizing, he walked over to Musashi and
flopped down across his lap, just like he had done the night before. "I bet you
want me to do something for you in return."

“We never really talked, did we?” Musashi asked suddenly, surprise written
visibly over his face.

“What has that got to do with anything?” Hiruma frowned, puzzled; leaning a
bit back to have a better look at the other's face.

“I just... noticed,” Musashi smiled wryly. “We just... understood each
other without words until-”

"Until you decided that it was more important for you to become a valid member
of community instead of staying an individual," Hiruma said coldly.

"That's not true," Musashi gave back, his voice just as icy as Hiruma's. "You
know it isn't."

Hiruma shook his head. "No, I don't know anything about you anymore. 20 years
are a very long time, even for me. I cannot forget what happened. I cannot
ignore the life you live, with the fucking mother hen at your side and your
fucking kids."

Sighing, Musashi put a hand onto Hiruma's cheek, gently caressing it with his
thumb. He was surprised that the blond did not push him away. "Neither can I.
Sometimes, I wonder what would have been if-"

"You know that'll get you nowhere," Hiruma interrupted, finally pushing his arm
away, just to lean in closely, so close that their noses were almost touching.
"There's not 'what if' there's only the here and now."

"…You're right." Musashi sighed, but his eyes showed no regret when he looked
back into Hiruma's eyes. "That was the same conclusion that I came to."

"So why are you telling me about this then?" Hiruma asked, starting to get
annoyed, but he still looked very comfortable in Musashi's lap.

"Because during these 20 years there was not a singly day or night that I did
not dream of you," Musashi said honestly, earnestly and openly.

Hiruma blinked, too surprised for a few heartbeats to say anything in return.
Instead, his heart missed a beat and he suddenly had a hard time breathing. He
tried to cover his sudden insecurity with a snort and a shrug. "So what? We went
through a lot together, during school and university, it's nothing
extraordinary."

"Tell me that you weren't thinking about me everyday," Musashi suddenly
demanded, obviously seeing through Hiruma's façade. The blond felt himself
blush and he tried in vain to stop it. Of course, his thoughts had always been
with Musashi in Japan, he had not been able to think of anything else but to get
him back, just as he had during High School. Back then, it had been for a
reason, but this time it was purely personal. But it was not something that he
could admit right into the other's face, not at this time.

"…I'm sorry, you don't need to answer," Musashi sighed, shaking his head. "My
mouth got away with me again."

Hiruma snorted and was glad that the other changed the subject. "Yeah, that's
one of your virtues. How did you manage to become this influential?"

"Mamori gave me a kick to the shin every time I said something stupid," Musashi
admitted, chuckling sheepishly. "Simple, but effective."

"I bet," Hiruma snorted. "So, what do I have to do for staying here?"

Musashi looked at him sternly, large hands on the blond's lithe shoulders.
"Just… stay here. Don't leave, not without telling me where you're going.
Never again, understood?"

"… I can't promise that," Hiruma said just as earnestly. "If it's not enough
for me, I can't just stay here. I have to move on if I have to."

The older man looked at him for a long while, then nodded in understanding.
"Fine. Then I hope you don't mind if I ask you to baby-sit my kids from time to
time. Oh, and I hope you will come to my birthday party on Saturday."

Hiruma's eyes narrowed and he glared down at the other. "That's your punishment,
right?"

Musashi smiled, "'Punishment' is such a harsh word… I'd say it's some 'special
persuasion'. Many people that you know will come, too, and I bet you're dying to
know what they're doing right now… of those who haven't become famous."

The blond's glare intensified, but then he sighed in defeat. "Fine, you won. I
expect you to pick me up though. On time, that goes without saying."

"Of course," Musashi nodded. "But I have to leave you now. Dinner's server at
7p.m. and I need to drive through-"

"Yeah, yeah, understood, just get going," Hiruma replied, getting off of the
other's lap with a fluid movement. "I'll make myself a home while you're gone."

"I'll pay you a visit tomorrow," Musashi promised as he went to get his jacket.
"Oh, and please try to keep this place tidy… Don't throw your guns around like
a three-year-old."

"Yes, daddy," Hiruma mock-saluted, but was already sitting in front of his
laptop, deeply indulged in some tables and charts that Musashi was unable to
read.

The older one shook his head in amusement. "I'll leave the keys on the counter.
If you need something, ask Tetsuma-san. He will help you."

"Thanks, but I'm not planning on leaving this place. Unless I run out of gum,"
Hiruma said, popping one of those into his mouth.

Musashi smiled almost fondly at him. "Old habits never die, do they?"

"Obviously, not."

"Well, then, I'll leave the keys on the counter. I have spare ones in my office.
See you tomorrow."

"Mhm," Hiruma mumbled, already too focused on his computer.

When Musashi arrived back home, he had to explain Mamori why he had not brought
Hiruma with him again and told her that he had been tired and decided to stay at
his hotel. He interrupted her when she looked at him with her special mixture of
sadness and anger to tell her that he had managed to make him come to their
wedding anniversary party. The look of surprise on her face was priceless.



                           Kapitel 12: Waiting Game
                           ------------------------


It was Saturday and Hiruma had almost forgotten what Musashi had said about his
birthday party. So, when the door opened and he heard Musashi enter the room, he
rushed over to the door and threw his arms around the other's neck.

"Welcome home, honey! How was work today?" he chirped falsely, grinning his
toothy grin as Musashi stared at him in pure disbelief.

"…Who are you and what happened to Hiruma?" the older looking man asked,
glaring down the blond as he tried to cover up the fact that he wanted to throw
up.

"What? Wasn't that what you were thinking of when you showed me your other
bedroom?" Hiruma asked, a grin so bittersweet and false on his lips that Musashi
wanted to vomit.

"In fact, no," he ground out between clenched teeth, pushing Hiruma away from
himself. "I was just thinking that I finally wanted to have a place to call
home. I'd even give up what little of my own time and space I had for that."

Hiruma snorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest before he looked up
levelly at the other. "You can tell that to yourself, I'm not buying that."

Gen rolled his eyes as he took off his shoes and coat. "Listen, you are the
first person I ever showed this place and I didn't lie when I told you that not
even Mamori has been here. No one had been here, just Tamahachi, Youichi and the
plumber and electrician. Because, no, I'm a carpenter and I can't do anything on
my own, either."

"That still doesn't mean that-"

"I was not done yet!" Gen bellowed, blinking slightly in surprise when Hiruma's
eyes widened with a hint of fear. "Sorry, I didn't", Musashi started, then shook
his head, and his look was as firm as before. "Look, through all the years, I've
been faithful and believe me, it wasn't easy. Only now, that you're back…"

He stopped right there, staring down at the ground while his cheeks turned
beet-red like he was still a teenager. "Forget what I said. Let me get a few
things and then we should get going."

Still having to work through what Musashi had just told him, Hiruma frowned and
decided to slip the first bunch of questions that came to his mind that had to
do only with the two of them in favor for the one that was most important right
then. "Go where?"

"Odaiba," Musashi said on his way to the kitchen to get something out of a
drawer. "Remember? I asked you to come to my birthday party to meet some old
friends-"

"Wait, Odaiba? Why don't you celebrate your birthday at home?" Hiruma's frown
deepened.

"Because Mamori would kill me if she had to cook and do the dishes for a good 50
persons," Musashi elaborated, putting the object that looked like a little
present to Hiruma into his pocket.

"What?! Why do you invite so many people to your birthday?" Hiruma glared. "I
thought you didn't like that many people in one place either."

"Well, I know a lot of people and – you know how that works – you have to
invite the right people at the right time and do nice things to them to get the
things you want, right?" Musashi now smirked, obviously done with what he wanted
to do as he returned to the entrance and started to put his shoes back on.

"Right…" Hiruma mumbled, not looking happy at all. "Well, then, you have to go
alone, because I don't have anything to wear that matches your suit. I don't
have any clothes for a funeral."

With a shrug he returned to his laptop on the couch, fully expecting Musashi to
let him have his peace and leave. He did not have such luck though.

"What do you think you're doing? You're worse than Mamori when she's on PMS.
You're coming with me and if I have to drag you out by your collar or
something!" the man ordered, making Hiruma feel like a schoolboy. His eyes
narrowed and he glared full force at the other.

"Who do you think you're talking to? One of your sons?" he asked in an icy
tone.

Musashi rolled his eyes. "Look, I don't have time for any of these games, I
promise we can talk about it later, but now, please put on something or come as
you are or whatever just…"

"…You're late," Hiruma pointed out, finally recognizing the reason behind
Musashi's harshness with a knowing grin.

"…Yes, I am," Musashi sighed, "now, please, don't make it harder than it
already is."

"…Fine, but only because it's you."

~*~

About an hour later, after Hiruma had taken a very quick shower, redressed in
something more presentable than black pants and a short-sleeved turtleneck, he
and Musashi arrived at the hotel on Odaiba where the party took place.

Hiruma frowned when he read the text on the signs on their hurried way inside.
He did not read much of a birthday party, more of a wedding anniversary. But
Musashi was so fast that even he had a hard time keeping up with him, especially
since the older looking man had his wrist in a vice-like hold.

Music was coming from the room they were going to, rather loud, too. Wincing,
Hiruma returned to glaring at Musashi, but the other did not notice, because he
was not even looking at him. Instead, he made his way straight to the door.

As he opened it, they were greeted by a loud and cheery "Happy Anniversary!"
which was followed by a few very loud gasps and Hiruma rolled his eyes.

"Hi-Hiruma-san… Is that you?" a man in his forties – like most of the people
here – stepped forward, large eyes staring at him in disbelief.

"Che, fucking shrimp, you had twenty years to get a new haircut and you still
look the same?" Hiruma snorted, trying to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling in
his chest.

A blond man in the corner snorted and said to his two friends: "Heh, it's really
the same old-"

"HIRUMA~~~~~!!!"

Every muscle in Hiruma's body was suddenly alerted to jump when he heard a too
familiar loud and a very happy cry. He could not yet make out where it came
from, but by the way it had suddenly gotten darker, he knew that Kurita's
approach was close. Musashi's catlike reflexes were the ones that saved him from
being crushed though.

"Aw, Musashi, why don't you let me hug Hiruma? It's been such a long time that
we saw him," Kurita pouted, still the same round person that he was during
school. Somehow it felt nice that nothing had changed at all, Hiruma noticed
with more fondness than he would ever admit.

"The last time you hugged somebody, Takami had to do some immediate surgery to
get their bones back in place and you know you crushed a car in your hug once,
remember?" Musashi reprimanded him with a fatherly and fond smile. Hiruma
remembered his little comparison from earlier and shook his head. Seems like he
took his father role a little too seriously.

"It's alright, fucking fatty, if you're careful. Like Daddy here said, don't
crush you friends in your bear hugs- huff!"

Hiruma was not able to say more as he had already been lifted off the ground by
Kurita, who had him tightly in his arms. It felt a bit bone crushing, but not
too much. In fact, the only other time that Kurita had actually hugged him like
this was when they had won the game before the Christmas Bowl and that was
nothing compared to this hug. Hiruma winced at the memory of his broken arm
then, but then used his legs to kick the other as hard as he could into his big
round belly.

"That's okay! Stop it! Ugh!" The blond struggled until he was put back down
safely on the ground, just to take a deep breath. Taking a good look at his
oldest friend, he shook his head with a grin. "Damn, you really haven't changed
one bit. You still the same old fatty you were in Junior High… minus the
beard."

"Huh? What? Oh! You mean this," Kurita said with a sheepish laugh, running his
hand through the beard around his mouth. "I've had it for so long that I don't
remember that I have it."

"Hiruma-san, it has been a really long time," the man with the large eyes from
before stepped in, smiling genuinely at him. It took Hiruma a heartbeat to
transform this face back into that of a young man in his early twenties and then
he was able to tell who it was that he was talking to.

"It has, fucking shrimp," he grinned fondly down at the one who moved passed
each and every obstacle on the football field back during their days in High
School together. "You've grown a lot since then… And your forehead, too."

The younger laughed sheepishly. "Yeah, I fear that I've inherited this from my
father. But it's okay, I'm not-"

"He doesn't need to look good," a woman with dark bluish black hair about the
same age as the man in front of him said, "he's got me for that."

"I see you haven't changed at all, either," Hiruma grinned down at Suzuna and
Sena. "And I see that you did marry in the end."

"Yes!" Suzuna cheered. "But it took him 3 years to finally come up with the
courage to ask me. You know how shy he is."

"Suzuna!" Sena protested in a high-pitched voice, sounding just like he did back
during High School.

Hiruma grinned. "At least he grew a few centimeters."

"Oh yes! Doesn't he look good now? So manly, but not too much, not like
Shin-san, but," she started and purred, making Sena blush completely.

"Suzuna! Would you please stop that?! You know there are minors around…" Sena
protested, glancing towards the girl that was holding hands with Youichi right
now, watching the scene with a cute little blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, believe me, Emi knows what she wants," Suzuna grinned.

Still grinning, Hiruma watched the pair banter about raising kids, when their
daughter eyed him just as suspiciously as her boyfriend did. He walked away from
his friends and towards the younger pair, offering his hand to the girl. "You
must be Emi. I already heard of you… from your future parents-in-law."

"Um, yes, I am…. Nice… Nice to meet you," she mumbled, taking his hand and
shaking it with a side-glance to Youichi, who still glared at him. "And you
are?"

"I'm Hiruma Youichi, the role-model for your boyfriend here," the older blond
introduced himself with a grin. Youichi's glared intensified and he took a
half-step forward, raising his fist in warning.

"Really? But I never heard him mention you… But my dad said you were a great
person, even though Takekura-kun tries to tell me differently…" she mumbled
with another side-glance to her boyfriend.

"Oh, that's because his parents decided for him," Hiruma cackled and patted her
head. "But don't worry, I bet he's a really nice guy underneath all his glaring
at me." With a grin he leaned in so that he could whisper in her ear, "And I bet
he's a real bomb in bed if he's anything like, his father or his mother…"

"What are you whispering to her?" Youichi demanded as Emi turned beet-red,
trying to get images out of her head that she never wanted to have there in the
first place. "What did you tell her? How dare you to embarrass her like that?
Get your fucking filthy hands of her, she's mine, understood? Nobody touches her
but me! And you won't touch her most of all people!"

Hiruma laughed loudly at that, and patted his shoulder as he walked. "Despite
what you think of me, boy, I like you. And not only because you remind me of
myself at your age. You irritate the hell out of me, but I like you. Keep that
in mind when you plan to kill me."

"What the-?! Why should I?" Youichi mumbled as he stared at the blond's back,
who walked away towards the buffet, but he was not able to make even two steps
without being stopped by people that knew him and that wanted to talk to him. Of
course he did not want to, but most of these people were people he had once
cared about so he was just not able to brush them off like any other stranger
and answered their questions with as much patience as he could gather.

When he had finally reached the buffet, he filled his plate with things that
looked as un-sweet as they could and snuck out of the room as soon as he got the
chance to. Unfortunately this was the moment that Musashi held his
thank-you-speech and wanted to propose a toast to his sake.

~*~

"Here you are."

Hiruma looked up from the skyline of Tokyo where he was leaning on the rail
outside of the hotel. He acknowledged Musashi's presence with one look before he
turned back around.

"I thought you had vanished again."

Snorting, the blond shook his head. "Not that soon. I was just tired of all the
questions."

He half-expected Musashi to tell him that those were his friends, that they had
a right to ask so many questions after twenty years, but the other just snorted.
"I know how you feel. It's okay that you fled here."

"…What? No reprimanding from Daddy this time? Guess I must be lucky then,"
Hiruma chuckled.

"Maybe you are," Musashi said silently, sighing himself. "I've been on so many
meetings that I just wanted to hide from because people kept asking me questions
I didn't want to answer… But I never did it. Guess that makes me a stupid
person."

"Perhaps," Hiruma mumbled. "Perhaps I'm the stupid one for running away like
that. Perhaps I should have stayed and faced my problems like a man…"

"It's okay," Musashi shook his head. "You did what you did, then and now, it's
not as if you could change it now."

"No, I can't change it," the blond sighed, turning to face the other. "But I can
regret it now… At least a part of me."

"Since when did you ever feel regret?" his best and closest friend asked with a
soft chuckle. "That's the first time I heard you say that."

"I regret a lot of things, but one thing more than all the others," Hiruma said.
"Do you remember the day before your wedding or rather the night?"

Musashi frowned. "Why are you asking me that now?"

"Doesn't matter, just… tell me, what do you remember?"

"I just…" Musashi started, frowning as he tried to recall the day 20 years
ago, but everything was clouded by the fog of one big hangover. "Not much,
really. Just that… it was my bachelor's party, I was… kind of missing you,
but suddenly you were there, but I don't remember what happened then."

"You don't remember anything from that night, do you?" Hiruma asked with a
snort, shaking his head as if he had expected such an answer.

"The only thing I remember that I asked the hooker somebody booked for me to go
home and keep the money she got," Musashi admitted. "I didn't want this complete
stranger to-"

"It's a pity you don't remember, but I do," Hiruma interrupted him before he
could finish his story. "It's a good thing that you don't remember what you said
to me then."

"What do you mean?" Musashi asked with a frown.



                        Kapitel 13: Something of Value
                        ------------------------------


Hiruma stared at the window of the hotel room he currently sat in, glaring at
his own reflection against Tokyo's nighttime skyline. He did not care that he
had raised a few thousand Yen out of his fund to set this up, he did not care
that the fucking mother hen had told him he looked gorgeous in his current out,
he simply cursed her for still having that much power over him to make him do
this without second thoughts.

"I can't do this in my current state," she had said to him one week ago, "and I
know he'd like to have a present from you that would be hard to forget." Hiruma
had wanted to roll his eyes and told her they had done things like that before
so many times that even he had lost track. He admitted that those times were
always great.

"That's why I am asking you to do this," Mamori had pressed on. "I'd give you
money, everything, really. I just know that he would deny any hooker without
second thinking. But it's different with you."

"Oh, so I'm just a high-class whore to you then?" Hiruma had asked, raising an
eyebrow at her. He had snorted when she had winced at his harsh words.

"No… you aren't. But… Look, I'm only asking you of this, I won't ever ask
anything of you ever again and I know that Gen will still see you when we're
married because… because the bond that you share is deeper than anything we
could ever have," she had explained, caressing her growing belly thoughtfully.
Her eyes had shone with a sadness that only women possessed and that even Hiruma
was weak to.

So, he had sighed and scratched the back of his head as he thought all of this
over. "Fine. Have it as you like. But you pick the clothes for me."

Now he sat there with the result of her shopping spree. He bet it had not been
cheap at all and she had had to buy two of those, one for herself and well, one
for him. At least he had been able to contribute to this stupid idea with some
of his money. Not that he cared much about it anyways.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Hiruma decided that he did not like White much
for a reason. Still, it was tradition to wear it on such a day, so he did not
think too much about it. Thankfully, Mamori had not picked some of these "other"
Whites for him like apricot or rosé. Pink was only good if you wore it as an
apron, it was nothing for this occasion, at least in Hiruma's opinion.

For a while, Hiruma continued to muse over the reason why he was doing this
again. He came to the conclusion that he had a bad conscience about a lot of
things. Not that he would ever openly admit it, mind it.

But he felt guilty for causing so much pain for the two people he probably cared
about most in the world. And that's why he decided it was his turn to suffer for
a while. He thought of the one-way ticket to Hawaii in his suitcase for a plane
that would leave tomorrow morning and told himself again that this would be the
best for all of them. He would not stand between Musashi and Mamori and their
wish for a happy family anymore and maybe he would be able to forget about both
of them, too.

A clean cut he decided it to be. It was not like there had ever been feelings
involved between them. He knew they both were not the type for pretty words, but
words like "I like you" or "I love you" were never said between them. So, it was
easy for Hiruma to assume that it was just the sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

Damn it, he had even said "I like you" once, when he had been together with
Mamori. And that relationship had not been as deep as the one he had had with
Musashi.

Thus, he had to leave. He knew that he would come back to the other, forcing him
to do things that would endanger his perfect little family, but as Hiruma knew
him, he would probably give in easily, without much persuasion. As long as he
was around, he would be a temptation. That was why he had to leave.

But before that, he would give himself – and Musashi – a nice good-bye gift.
He already got Mamori the dress and he did this because she asked him to, so
that was more than enough. But he knew nothing that he could give to Musashi
besides this, thus it was the easiest and best choice. Also, it would be the
best way to remember his lover like this, probably with a little pain in his
ass, too.

Hiruma grinned to himself as he recalled the last times he dressed up. On the
days afterwards, he was always unable to walk properly, but the sex made
definitely up for it. In fact, those were the times when they had the best sex
ever. Sometimes it was so good that he even forgot why he had dressed up in the
first place, but well. This definitely would not happen this time. This very
last time he would do something like that.

Or so he had vowed to himself.

~*~

When Musashi finally showed up, it was way past midnight. Hiruma had already
considered leaving without giving him his parting gift, taking off these
ridiculous clothes, but every time he finally decided to do it, he told himself
that Musashi would come, because he had told Sena and the Fucking Fatty to drag
him up should the stupid old man fall asleep somewhere in his own vomit.

But Hiruma had been wrong about that. Instead, he found Musashi walking into the
room on his own two legs, looking surprisingly sober, although he sure did not
smell like it.

"…Hiruma? Is that you?"

"Yeah, who did you expect? The Easter bunny?" Hiruma grumbled, slightly pissed
off because he had to wait so long.

"Well, no, but," Musashi started, then looked Hiruma up and down, frowning as he
did so. "I definitely didn't expect you to wear a wedding gown. Especially not
one day before the wedding."

He laughed good-naturedly, walking over to Hiruma, who wore a simple dress –
coming  down to it – but it was pretty nevertheless. A white corset kept his
shoulders bare, as well as his arms except for a pair of satin gloves that went
up to his elbows. He was also wearing a white billowy skirt with two underskirts
and many frills that peeked out from underneath. His hair was straightened a bit
and put up into a tight little knot with a white pin holding it all together.

Musashi tried hard not to, but thanks to this breathtaking sight and the amount
of alcohol in his blood, he staged a few times as he walked over. Hiruma
wrinkled his nose when he smelled the alcohol on Musashi, but he did not protest
when the other put his arms around his waist, pulling him close.

"Thank your fucking fiancé, old man," he grumbled instead, just to bite back a
moan when Musashi proceeded to rob him off his breath by kissing him soundly.
When they broke apart, he was so much out of breath that he needed a few moments
to steady himself.

"Hm, what would you say? Have I been a good guy for sending away the hooker that
my friends paid for seducing me just to have sex with a guy dressed in a wedding
gown like some fucked up bride-fantasy I have?" Musashi slurred, obviously more
drunk than he let on.

"No, you're stupid," Hiruma snorted. "Really, you the most foolish person I have
ever met."

"Still, you're doing this for me," Musashi pointed out, pulling Hiruma closer
with his hands on his ass. The blond gasped as he crashed their crotches
together. "Guess you must be even stupider than I am."

"Probably," Hiruma mumbled inaudibly as Musashi kissed him again. It was a
sloppy kiss, nothing planned or well-aimed like the ones they usually shared,
but something raw and primal.

"Gods, you're so sexy in dresses," the older one mumbled dreamily after he broke
the kiss. Hiruma took advantage of the man raveling in his beauty and pushed him
back up against the nearest wall, where he took over the kiss and slipped one
gloved hand onto the other's crotch, massaging him impatiently as he tried to
find a hair-free spot on his neck to leave a mark on.

Musashi moaned, his hand moving up onto Hiruma's shoulders involuntarily and
uncontrollably. But the other understood quickly and knelt down in front of him,
making quick work of his belt and zipper, so his pants and boxers were soon
lying on the floor. Hiruma's hands – inside those white satin gloves – felt
perfect on his hot cock, a little cooling and soft, but also rough since their
fabric was nothing compared to his hands, that were calloused from throwing
footballs uncountable times, but still soft compared to his own worker hands.

Just as he had finished comparing the feel of their hands, Hiruma put his mouth
around his cock, sharp teeth carefully in check as he descended down on it until
his nose touched Musashi's stomach. The older looking man made a conscious
effort not to move too much, to not shove his cock deeper into the blond's
mouth, because he knew that Hiruma was doing his best not to gag on him.

Then he started bobbing his head up and down, using just the right pressure with
his tongue to massage him in just the right places. Musashi threw his head back
so that it bumped against the wall, feeling Hiruma's hands and mouth on him.
Those hands moved from where they were steadying him on his hips down to his
balls, massaging them roughly, but gently, just the way Hiruma knew he could get
off Musashi the fastest way. He also slipped one hand between the older one's
ass-cheeks and Musashi knew that he would have inserted a finger to trigger his
prostrate had he not been wearing those gloves.

Still, it did not take the blond long to get the darker haired one off. With a
primal growl, Musashi shot his load inside Hiruma's waiting mouth, who –
against everything he usually did – swallowed all of it and wiped the last
small drops off the corner of his mouth. He looked up with a raised eyebrow,
expecting Musashi to say something, but the older man was still a little too far
off.

After a few breaths, Musashi simply pulled him up and kissed him once again hard
on the lips. He moaned, as he tasted his own seed inside Hiruma's mouth,
something that had not happened very often in their relationship, but he decided
he liked his. He then proceeded to explore the blond's mouth further as he
stepped out of his pants and maneuvered them both towards the bed, where he
threw the other down on the covers, pushing up the skirt as far as he could.
Thanks to the ruffles though he did not get very far though, but it was enough
to catch a glimpse of the underwear that Hiruma was wearing.

"Hm, garters…" the older looking man purred, rubbing his cheek against
Hiruma's white satin-covered crotch while some of the ruffles fell back in place
over him. The blond pulled them up again so that he would be able to see the
other's head, but Musashi had already gone to work.

He pulled down the sating string that Hiruma was wearing, freeing his erection
that had already been looking out underneath the thin garment. After the panties
landed somewhere on the other side of the room, Musashi pushed up Hiruma's legs,
so that he was almost bent in two and started licking his asshole.

"Shit!" Hiruma cursed and threw his head back into the cushions. Musashi gave
his asshole a good, hard, long licking, so good that he almost came from that
alone. But the ruffles of his skirt got in the way most of the time, so before
the blond was able to feel really comfortable, they had both gotten frustrated
with it.

"Take it off!" Musashi commanded while Hiruma was already searching for the
little zipper on his left side. Once he had found it and pulled it down, Musashi
was very impatient to pull it off his body and the skirt landed somewhere close
to the panties. This left him only with the corset of the gown, the garter belt
and stockings and the gloves so that his most vulnerable places were more than
just open to the other man.

Said man continued where he left off, pushing Hiruma's legs upwards as he
proceeded to eat out his ass. This time, he had one free hand though and he used
that one to part his ass-cheeks further, then lube it up with his saliva just
before he pushed his middle finger inside the wet and tight hole. Hiruma moaned,
biting his lip when Musashi impatiently inserted a second finger,
unintentionally hurting the blond a bit, but nothing serious. He made up by
massaging his prostate a second later though.

"Che, you wanna get even for me making you come so quickly?" Hiruma gasped, but
not really caring much.

Musashi was too busy trying to push his tongue inside Hiruma's asshole though
which stopped him from talking and also prevented Hiruma from complaining any
further. The blond all but squeaked, hands moving from covering his mouth to be
buried inside the other's hair, until he came with a roar, shooting his load all
over himself, thus ruining the white corset. Not that he had expected
otherwise.

Musashi grinned as he climbed back up, kissing the other sloppily as his lips
felt a little numb from the prior exercise. Hiruma glared at him, but was too
spent to actually say something. Meanwhile the other was playing with his
softening erection, his own standing out against the white sheets of the hotel
bed. He had this predatory look in his eyes that he only got when he had
something in mind.

"Now bend over, bitch, so that I can fuck you properly," Musashi mumbled, the
grin still on his face.

Normally, Hiruma would have been offended by this name, but his mind was gone so
far that he did not really care. In fact, he thought that Musashi had every
right in the world to insult him, for several reasons. Also, he felt just like a
bitch in heat, but that was a general effect Musashi was having on him.

"What should I bend over, oh great fucking master?" Hiruma mocked him
nevertheless, because that was just the way he was.

"Put your hands against the wall, that will do," Musashi said as he took the
lube off the bedside table and coated himself. For a few moments he watched how
Hiruma tried to turn around, balanced on his weak knees and then braced himself
against the wall. He coated his fingers with lube and pushed two of them inside
the still slightly open hole.

Moaning, Hiruma pushed himself back, his own erection re-hardening. Musashi
watched him intently, following the lines of the garter belt and the straps to
the stockings as his fingers moved in and out more smoothly with every second,
inserting another one when it was loose enough. Then, he removed his fingers and
pulled the other's pelvis back, so that he had easy access. With one swift
motion and a bit of drunken fumbling beforehand, he pushed inside the tight hot
tunnel.

Hiruma cursed and Musashi grunted, but together they moved in unison until
Musashi decided that he did not like this position anymore. Thus he slipped out
without prior warning and lay down on the other side of the bed. Hiruma
understood what he wanted to do without asking and just sat down on his cock
again, riding him like he had never done before. He changed his rhythm
frequently, going slower and faster from time to time until he felt Musashi's
hands on his hips urging him own. Damn, those hands were a massive turn-on and
Hiruma almost missed how he moved faster to complete his own orgasm. Clawing on
the other's chest, he came with another primal roar, feeling how Musashi shot
his load inside of him after a few more thrusts.

~*~

They had sex a few more times that night, until Musashi passed out from
exhaustion. Hiruma shook his head at the other's lack of stamina, but then again
his ass felt so worn out that he feared he would not be able to go to the toilet
normally for the next few days. At least this was all over now.

While his lover and soon going to be husband of Mamori, the fucking girl, slept
peacefully, Hiruma took a shower, folded the wedding gown and wondered what to
do with it, just to decide to keep it where it was, with Sleeping Beauty there.
Then he redressed in his normal clothes and got ready to take his leave, but not
without taking a moment to watch Musashi sleeping for a few moments.

It made Hiruma wonder if he had made the right decision, leaving his friends
without a warning. It made him wonder if it was the right decision to leave
Musashi like that, with a very able wife that would probably be able to give him
lots of children and a good reputation that he needed for his job.

Finally he realized why he was doing all this.

He would not be able to stand the pain.

While it was not as if he was unable to live with physical pain or some
mindfuck's schemes, he would not be able to see his friends, the people that
were closest to them, live a lie. A lie that would only be endangered by his
sheer presence. So, the only logical way to keep this lie alive was for him to
vanish from the surface of the earth, at least for them.

His resolve hardened like that, he got up to take his final leave when he felt a
strong grip on his wrist suddenly. He turned around to looked annoyed at
Musashi, who was still fast asleep, and tried to pry his hand away when the
other startled to mumble something in his sleep.

"Please… don't ever leave me, okay?" The man mumbled, obviously dreaming about
something. "Hiruma, you hear me?" The blond froze as he heard his name. "You
just… can't leave, you know? I… I love you and I need you by my side…"

All color drained from Hiruma's face at those three words that Musashi had just
mumbled. Even if they were in his sleep, his name was connected to them and he
knew for a fact that Musashi did not lie in his sleep. But why did he just say
those words now? After all these years that they had been together without even
thinking about saying them at all? Why now that Hiruma had already closed this
chapter of his life?

"Fucking old man, you know just how to shake me off my path, don't you?" the
blond mumbled as he pried his hand away with a sigh. Those three words were just
another reason for him to leave, as he was now even surer that he would endanger
the perfect marriage of Takekura Gen and Mamori by his pure presence.

He leaned down to plant a kiss on the sleeping man's forehead. "I promise I'll
be back… but don't expect me too soon, you hear me? Now have your perfect live
for the rest of the world… Until I take what has always been mine."

Then he turned his back to the sleeping man and left the room without taking
another glance back.

The next days, the billboard press was all full with the fairy-tale marriage of
Takekura Gen and Mamori.



                               Kapitel 14: Grey
                               ----------------


Hiruma stared at Musashi in the moonlight, memories coming back to his mind,
unbidden. Yes, he recalled every little detail of the last night that he had
spent in Japan, the last night that he had spent together with the other man.
His plan had been to reveal everything to him now, to force him thinking about
what they had done and what he had said… Those dreadful three words that he
had said unconsciously, words that were never needed between them. But as he
looked into his eyes, those deep dark brown eyes filled with confusion, he knew
that he would never be able to use anything he knew to his advantage towards
this man.

Therefore, he just snorted and tore his gaze away and looked down on the
ground.

"Well, you said you'd miss me." At least that much was true.

For a moment, Musashi looked as if he had expected something else, as if he had
hoped that Hiruma would say something else. The blond smirked to himself. So he
did remember a bit more than just that fucking hooker.

"I don't remember that you were there…"

"I wasn't. At the party that is," Hiruma explained, deciding that he would tell
him a little bit more of the truth.

"…Oh god," Musashi groaned, looking as flabbergasted as one would who had just
found out that he had an evil twin. He staggered forward to the rail and buried
his face into his palms as he leaned on it with his elbows. "Don't tell me you
wore a wedding gown that night…"

Hiruma smirked openly, so that Musashi could see his amusement over him
remembering correctly.

"Oh shit," the older man cursed, rubbing his hands over his face, before he
laughed bitterly at himself. "And I wondered why I had a feeling of déjà-vu on
our honeymoon a month later…"

"Spare me the details," Hiruma said, his laughter having died on his tongue.

"Sorry," Musashi sighed, staring down over the rail that he leant heavily on,
trying to come up with the right words to resolve the tension between them. He
really wanted to be things as they were twenty-five years ago; he wanted the
friendship that he and Hiruma had back.

"I did miss you though," he mumbled, trying to get back to the subject that
Hiruma had started.

Hiruma chose to say nothing, because everything that he could have said would
have sounded false and kitschy and nothing like him, so he stayed silent. He did
not need to say that he missed Musashi, too. If he had not missed him, he would
not be standing there with him.

"You may not believe it – I know it's difficult, because you only saw me with
my family – but there has not been a night that I have not dreamt about you."
The words kept bubbling out of him, unstoppable. He did not want to say them,
but on the other hand he knew that Hiruma had the right to know the truth, since
he was the only person that he had ever been truly honest to, except for the
truth about his feelings. "I… I thought that my mind was so sick to replace
Mamori's face with yours in that wedding gown, but now… now I… I don't know
what is real anymore."

"Sheesh, don't freak like that, old man," Hiruma said with a soft snort, turning
around so that he leaned with his back against the rail, not looking at
Musashi's face. "Both are real. Mamori and I. But it's nice to know that you
missed me that much."

Musashi smiled weakly, his mind still in turmoil over the sudden revelation,
trying to sort out the rights and wrongs, where he belonged. He tried to think
of something else, because this was really not the time and place to think about
fundamental things, but now that he knew that his dreams were based on reality
he did not know what to do. He loved his family more than anything, but had
marrying Mamori really been the right choice when he dreamt of somebody else
each night? Of something real, not something his sick mind supplied him with.
Especially if the last part of the reoccurring dream was also true…

"Hey, it's your wedding anniversary, shouldn't you be with your wife?" Hiruma
asked, changing the subject quickly.

Shrugging, Musashi answered, "I probably should… but there are too many people
inside and I don't want to talk to them right now. I talked too much today
anyways.”

“Yeah, you’ve never been much of a talker, have you?” Hiruma smirked.
“Honestly, I was always wondering how you could do what you have to do for
your job. Talking to other people, being polite and keeping your own opinions to
yourself most of the time…”

“Oh, shut up, I know that. I have enough black spots on my leg to prove that
Mamori knows, too,” Musashi explained, grinning lightly. “Plus, it’s my
birthday party, thus I want to spent some time with the best birthday present I
had in years.”

Hiruma snorted as he turned back around. “So, now I’m a mere present? A few
moments ago I was still a person.”

“Personally, I consider you as a present from the gods to me, for I have been
such a good person over the last 20 years. Ask the yellow press, they don’t
even know my name unless some of those idiots read some news that are not just
scandals.”

“Yeah, you lead a fairytale life. With the perfect wife and the perfect
children. At least on the outside,” he added quickly before Musashi could
interrupt and say that his family was not perfect but perfectly normal. “It
has been a good thing that you did not let your heart decide whom you wanted to
spend the rest of your life with.”

There, he said it. Not clearly, but hidden underneath a thick layer of inklings,
but easily seen even for a thickhead like Musashi. Now it was his choice to
react to it or just let it slip as if he had not heard it. Nervously Hiruma
watched the older one closely. He expected him to look over to him in surprise
– or anger – something with a hint of emotion, maybe he would even have the
honor of seeing the other blush slightly.

“It was,” Musashi mumbled though, his voice devoid of any kind of emotion,
he just sounded awfully thoughtful.

Hiruma’s brows furried, surprised by this lack of anything that the used to
expect from a man like Musashi at such a statement he had just thrown at him.
Maybe he was getting old, he was definitely losing his touch during these days.
Back in the days, he would have had Musashi in his bed any time, he would have
stirred at least some emotion from him, but the way it was then was kind of
boring.

This conversation obviously over now, Hiruma suppressed the urge to sigh and
lean his chin on his hand in an exasperated motion, as Musashi next to him
straightened suddenly and mumbled some excuses that he had to go somewhere now.
Shrugging in response, Hiruma continued to stare onto the sea, the city and all
the little boats that cruised in the moonlight.

~*~

A few hours later – it was well after midnight – Hiruma stepped out of the
elevator that led to his current residence. He looked completely pissed off, but
his gaze softened gradually when he saw somebody sitting on the great balcony,
the steady sound of wood being carved with a knife sounding somewhat familiar
over the sounds of the sleeping city.

“There you are,” the blond mumbled as he stepped outside to sit down on a
sun chair, laptop propped onto his lap.

“Mhm,” Musashi mumbled, looked at the piece of wood in his hands, continuing
to carve after he found a spot that was not yet to his liking.

“You know, your fucking wife has been giving me hell over your absence, she
even blamed me for it,” Hiruma continued evenly as if they were talking about
the weather.

“Sorry,” Musashi mumbled, it being the only hint that he was listening to
the other.

“You could have at least taken me with you, you know?” The sourness on
Hiruma’s face had made it to his voice. “I had to ask your fucking son to
take me here, because he was the only one on the party who knew of this dreaded
place. You can imagine his mood. Especially since I had to forcibly extract him
from the fucking shrimp’s daughter.”

Musashi’s only answer was an amused chuckle.

“That’s not funny, fucking old man,” Hiruma glared at the broad back. “I
had to listen to everybody’s stories, it was fucking annoying to hear about
every little shit that doesn’t interest me the least.”

“Welcome to my world,” Musashi grinned, taking a last look at the figurine
he just made before he put away his knife and placed a little wooden Cerberus
onto the ground, dusting splints off his pants.

“I said it’s not funny, fucking old man!” Hiruma pouted openly now at the
man standing in front of him. “That was exactly the reason why I did not want
to go! I knew this was going to happen and I wanted to avoid-“

He was suddenly cut off by a pair of warm, chopped lips on his own and a strong,
rough but gentle hand on the back of his head. That pair of lips effectively
stopped him from speaking until he melted into the kiss, involuntarily. As
Musashi backed off with a soft grin, he needed a heartbeat to get his composure
back just to glare up at the other.

“Damn it, your timing is still as worse as it was back then,” he chided the
other, “This is your fucking 20th wedding anniversary-“

“No, it isn’t,” Musashi said calmly. “It’s just a day that we chose to
celebrate it on. The actual day was a few days ago, you remember? It was the day
after my birthday.”

Still pouting, Hiruma narrowed his eyes.

“I left because I had some thinking to do. Some serious thinking,” Musashi
started to explain, kneeling down so that he was now at eye-level with Hiruma.
“About my life, my feelings and how I want my future to be like.”

“Well, by the way Yoichi and Emi are acting around each other, you will soon
be a granddad.”

Musashi nodded with a fatherly smile. “Yeah, I know.”

“You look good with your kids, and you’ll probably look good with
grandchildren, too,” Hiruma declared, sounding curious instead of his hurt
sounding words.

An enigmatic grin made the corners of Musashi’s mouth twist upwards.
“Sometimes I watch over the kindergarten at the office when Mamori and the
other secretaries are out for lunch. My office has the biggest space to keep all
the kids in. They love listening to my stories of the blond demon that led a
group of underdogs into a war against the biggest and strongest armies of the
countries around them just to show them that you did not need to be a noble to
win in war…”

Hiruma snorted and broke out into laughter. “You made up a nice story out of
that? So, what happens in the end? Did the princess marry the demon or the
strong carpenter of the underdogs?”

Musashi shook his head. “I never get to that part. The kids always fell asleep
after I finished telling them about the second fight against the White Knights
of the East.”

Hiruma’s laughter grew. “I always knew you were not able to tell stories in
an interesting way!”

“No, unfortunately not,” Musashi chuckled softly. “And I’m also not
built to lead a company.”

“You’re doing a fucking good job for not being built for it,” Hiruma
argued, still unsure where to this whole discussion was leading.

“I know. It’s just… I’d rather be outside and help the workers on the
sites than actually lead them on. This entire fine talking and acting tires me
endlessly. It takes a lot of self-control to stay calm most of the time; I would
be nowhere if it had not been for Mamori leading me the right way. Yoichi will
be old enough in a few years – after he finishes his studies – and he shows
much more interest and talent in handling the things I have to face every day.
In less than three years, I can finally go back to being a normal man instead of
being the head of a billion-dollar-company. I can be myself again. At the young
age of 50.”

“…And that’s why you built this little house up here,” Hiruma said,
knowing that he had done it to preserve the man that he once had been and
obviously still was subconsciously, despite all the changes that he went through
over the years.

Musashi simply nodded. “I… I knew you would be coming back. To be honest
though, I thought you’d return in five years though, when Yoichi would be old
enough to take over the company from me. Missed me that much, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Hiruma said calmly, even though his
insides were in a turmoil.

“All those times I have wondered what I would say to you once you were back,
but now that you’re here, everything that I wanted to say to you sounds
absolutely foolish.”

“Everything you say sounds foolish. Especially if you’re talking about your
feelings,” Hiruma deadpanned, making Musashi laugh despite himself.

“Well, then I won’t say anything anymore,” Musashi said and closed the
short distance between them for a kiss.

Hiruma allowed it for a while, but as Musashi tried to deepen the kiss, he
backed away and looked up into his eyes. “What about Mamori?”

“She knows my feelings, better than I do most of the time,” the older man
said, voice husky with desire.

“She always did, didn’t she?” Hiruma mumbled, licking his lips in
anticipation of another kiss.

“Mhm,” Musashi mumbled, watching that tongue sneak out between the other’s
lips hungrily.

“Fuck, who cares,” the blond said suddenly and slammed his laptop shut, put
it on the ground just to pull Musashi down at the edge of his shirt. “I’ve
waited 20 years to do this again, so you better do it right, understood?”

“It will be a pleasure,” Musashi grinned and let himself get pulled down
into a deep and hungry kiss.



                             Kapitel 15: Sureshot
                             --------------------


Hiruma awoke the following Sunday, because some annoying ring tone woke him up.
He tried to move, to put his hands out of the bed, but he was tucked comfortably
under somebody's chin and held tightly in said somebody's arms. He tried to
remember what had happened last night when suddenly he was hit by the memory.

He had talked with Musashi who had admitted that he had been living a lie; that
he was fed up of faking his own personality for the better good, even though he
had planned to continue doing that for five more years. Hiruma had laughed at
him and they had made up afterwards, kissing wildly and hotly until Hiruma
decided to put up a little show and take off his shirt in front of the other
slow and tantalizing.

Obviously he had been a little too slow, because the next thing that he heard
was loud snoring. Instead of watching him, Musashi had fallen asleep, too
exhausted from the prior days. First, Hiruma felt neglected, but he was not able
to be pissed off for long as he saw Musashi sleeping like a little child, waking
not even when Hiruma tried to wake him up by pulling on his hair. Thus, he
decided that he had no other choice but to lie down next to his lover and try to
sleep as well. Fortunately, with Musashi lying next to him, he did not have any
problems falling asleep.

And now, the other man held him so close in his arms that he was hardly able to
breathe, but that was not what had woken him up.

"Hey, old man," he said, not too loudly, because he was not quite yet awake
himself, "wake up. Your phone's ringing… Hey! Wake up!"

Musashi grumbled and groaned, blinking his eyes open drowsily. "Hm? What?..."

"You're phone is ringing," Hiruma repeated, starting to get impatient. "Oh, and
while you pick it up, it would be nice if you gave me some space to breathe."

Musashi grumbled something unintelligible as he turned to lie on his back,
reaching blindly over to the nightstand where he found his mobile phone lying
around and he picked it up. "Hello? …They hung up."

Just as Hiruma finished rolling his eyes, the phone started ringing again. This
time, Musashi picked up the call more quickly than before. "Hello? Oh, it's
you… What?... I promised to watch your match today? …Well, yeah. Sorry. I
forgot. When does it start? … In two hours? Fine, I'll try to be there as fast
as I can. Love you, bye-bye."

Hiruma pouted. He had hoped that he would get his make-up-sex now, after Musashi
had fallen asleep on him so indignantly the night before, but with only two
hours to get to Deimon High School that would only leave a quickie in the shower
as an option. And that was something that not even Hiruma wanted, no matter how
deprived he was. Even he wanted something that could count as celebration.

Thus, he turned his back on Musashi, closed his eyes and tried to get some more
sleep. Naturally though, the other man had other plans.

"Hey, come on, get up," he cheered, wrapping himself around Hiruma's back,
kissing the sensitive spot right beneath his ear. "We've got to go to a football
match, Deimon Devil Bats against the Shinryuuji Naga."

"What, they're still using these old names?" Hiruma snorted, not turning around
though.

"They're good names, both of them," Musashi smiled against the blond's neck,
breathing out and smiling when he felt Hiruma shiver.

"They can have whatever names they want, for all I care," Hiruma mumbled, still
not moving an inch. "I won't be going."

“Oh yes, you will,” Musashi countered, using his strength to wrap his arms
around Hiruma’s waist and pull him over onto his lap. Hiruma squeaked despite
himself, struggling against the other’s strong hold. Back in the days he would
have hit him or worse for that, but right then he was so surprised that he
didn’t even manage to struggle free.

“You will come with me because you promised my wife, me and most of all
Ken,” Musashi elaborated, emphasizing his point with a gentle nip at
Hiruma’s left ear, eliciting a moan from the blond that made him all the more
want to ignore his son’s request.

“Fuck you! Fucking old man, let me down!” Hiruma cursed, kicking his legs up
in the air.

“Only if you come with me later,” Musashi cooed, biting the blond’s ear
again.

Hiruma bit his lower lip not to cry out or mewl or make any other strange
sounds, but ceased his struggling. “I refuse. I already accompanied you
yesterday against my will.”

“But that was for your own sake. This time it’s because you actually made a
promise to a member of my family,” the other man elaborated, “and also
because I know you want to see a good football match.”

Hiruma said nothing, but glared up at the ceiling. “You say that like Deimon
is really good… Well, they have to if they play against Shinryuuji right at
the beginning of the term…”

Musashi said nothing to that, just smiled and released the blond out of his hold
so that they could go and take their showers respectively.

~*~

“Or Shinryuuji has gotten extremely bad over the years,” Hiruma sighed at
the end of the second quarter. “How the fuck could that happen?”

Musashi chuckled, not exactly happy with the outcome himself. “Well, ever
since the old Sendouda died things have gotten worse for the Nagas. Kongo Unsui
had tried to take over, but taking care of his mental brother and the family
business was taking up too much of his time so they never got a good coach
again.”

Hiruma snorted. “What a pity.”

“Yeah, I know,” Musashi sighed. “Somehow American Football has lost a lot
of fans since you left Japan. Thus, the funds that had been used for those clubs
have flown into other clubs… Really, it’s a pity.”

Hiruma shrugged, pretending indifference to the compliment.

“Come on, it’s undeniable that thanks to you American Football has gotten
popular during that year we made it to the Christmas Bowl. You did one hell of a
good PR-job back then,” Musashi poked him further.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t have anything to do with that farce they call game
down there on the field,” Hiruma grumbled.

“Well, both teams lack a good coach,” Musashi said and the blond made a face
due to the hint behind his statement.

“I’m not going to train them, understood?”

“I’m not trying to talk you into it, I’m just stating the facts,”
Musashi explained, watching his son’s team moving over to their side of the
field, obviously talking about strategies to turn this match around.

“They’re not that bad,” Hiruma mumbled, his mouth for once working faster
than his brain. “The quarterback is good… What year is he in?”

“From what I heard he’s a first year and that’s his first football match
ever,” Musashi explained, wrecking his brain for the name of the boy, but
somehow it deluded him, no matter how hard he tried.

“A natural, that’s good,” the blond said. “I take it the fatty in the
line and the receiver are in your son’s year?”

Musashi nodded, “Yes, they have been training together during the past year.
The other two boys stayed over a few nights and Mamori and I had to tell them of
the old times. They watched all the videos from our old games one night… They
remind me of us back then…”

“The other guys play like shit,” Hiruma stated as if Musashi had not said
one word.

“Yeah, they’re all first years, the only ones that seemed to be interested
in such a club. I bet a lot of them will leave after this game,” Musashi
sighed. “And they had just found enough people to form an entire team…”

“I need to take a piss,” Hiruma said suddenly and stood up.

Musashi looked up at him in surprise, mumbled something that they were still
where they were when they left school and asked if he should show him. The blond
ignored him though and said that he was well able to take a piss by himself.
Thus he left without saying any other word.

When he returned about ten minutes later, he had a look on his face that he
usually had when he had found a strategy to defeat the opponent.

“…What did you do?” Musashi asked as he looked at the other sitting down.

“I took a piss. Nothing else,” Hiruma said, looking smug.

“You know I don’t believe you, don’t you?” the other man said, raising
an eyebrow with an amused smile.

The blond just shrugged, saying nothing. A few moments later he was saved from
answering any more questions as the match continued.

It was Deimon’s offense, the score was 7:8 with Shinryuuji in lead, 43 yards
to go. All other offenses before had ended up with nothing, except for one where
the receiver had luckily managed to catch one of the quarterback’s more
well-aimed throws. This time though, they seemed to be going for a run, because
as soon as the ball was thrown back, the tall, thin running back dashed forward,
welcoming the ball from the quarterback just to keep on dashing forward right
into the awaiting arms of Shinruuji’s defense.

But as everybody focused on the running back, nobody noticed how the quarterback
put up the ball in a kicking stance. Ken, who had stayed behind as a last line
of defense, took a small start-up and then kicked the ball with all his might.
The visitors of the game jumped up from their seats, following the ball with
wide eyes and loud cheers as the cheerleaders jumped up and down, singing some
supportive chants. Everybody stopped moving because the ball was soaring so high
that nobody would have been able to stop it; now the only thing that mattered
was the fact whether or not the ball would fly through the poles or not.

Musashi, who was standing just as almost everybody else, squinted a little, but
he knew from experience that the ball would be inside the poles. Still, he held
his breath just like everybody else as Hiruma beside him chewed on his bubble
gum as if nothing was strange at all. When the ball finally flew through the
poles and fell down on the ground like it as supposed to, Hiruma popping his gum
went under in the loud cheerings.

“How did you know that he was able to kick the ball that far?” Musashi asked
Hiruma as he sat down again.

The blond just shrugged. “I asked him. He said the farthest successful kick
that he had ever done were 56 yards and that happened only once, so I figured
this would be easy for him. The feint was their own idea though.”

“…Well, thanks to that, they’re leading now 10:8,” Musashi noted.
“Let’s hope it stays like this until the end of the match.”

“Oh yeah, it will make the fucking match even more boring,” Hiruma mumbled,
blowing another bubble with his gum.

In the end, Deimon tried to use some surprising moves a few more times, as did
Shinruuji, obviously goaded on by Deimon’s try. The result was close, but with
17:18 it was Shinryuuji’s win. Hiruma stood up as soon as the game ended,
fully intending to leave the place, but Musashi caught his arm first.

“Hey, Ken! Good game!” the man yelled down to his son, blinking in surprise
when the captain of the cheerleaders came running towards his son, jumping into
his arms and kissed him viciously, making Musashi shake his head with a fatherly
smile.

“Oh, I remember that girl,” Hiruma said next to him in a bored tone. “From
the night that I stayed over at your family’s house.”

Musashi just rolled his eyes. “Well, great. Come on, let’s get going.”

“Gen! There you are!” a familiar voice cried out. “I thought we’d meet
before the game!”

“I’m sorry, honey, but we overslept a bit,” Musashi apologized to his
wife.

“Oh, I know. Ken told me that he called you,” Mamori smiled. “I hope you
had a good night. Hiruma…”

The blond looked indifferent, but that was only to cover up a slight pang of
guilt. How could he look at her without feeling guilty after what her husband
had told him last night?



                             Kapitel 16: Only One
                             --------------------


Since Ken was the captain of the team, he stayed behind to talk a bit to his
parents and Hiruma while everybody else had already gone showering. Thus, he was
alone in the lockers afterwards, undressing and sorting things out, since
everybody had already gone ahead.

Well, not completely alone.

“So, what are you doing now that you’re out of the spring tournament?”
Youko asked, still in her cheerleader uniform, all over Ken.

“Train, of course,” the boy grumbled, frustrated with himself that he had
not been able to score better in the game. “There’s still the autumn
tournament… What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Youko looked up where she had started to undo the laces of his pants.

“I’m eating a cake, what does it look like?” she asked, with an innocent
look that never reached her eyes or the rest of her body. “You always get a
hard-on after the game and seeing you kick this ball so far has made me all wet
and horny-“

“I promised to hurry up so that I could meet with my family to go out and eat
lunch with them,” he mumbled, not holding her back though. “And I still have
to take a shower.”

Youko pouted. “And what about me? You never take me to your family. Do you
think I’m that embarrassing?”

Ken hesitated, the first words on his lips “yes, because all we ever do is
fuck and that’s not something I can tell my parents,” but then he thought
his answer over. What exactly was so bad about introducing Youko to his family?
He knew that Youichi and Emi were behaving like rabbits all of the time as well,
but on the other hand… Emi was cute and petite, had hardly any chest and was
his mother’s little girl, because all she ever had were boys and so Emi was
something like a daughter-substitute to her.

Youko on the other hand though… Was not “cute” at all. Not like Emi that
is. She was cute in her own way, when she was trying to make him do things the
way she wanted them, or when she cried out his name at the peak of…

But other than that, she was tall, had bleached blond shoulder-length hair,
always wore a lot of make-up, hiked up her skirts and was an D-cup, making Ken
feel like he was drowning and suffocating every time she pulled him close. And
her ass… so sound and perfect it was almost criminal. She was nothing like
Emi, who was more like a little girl compared to that full-fletched woman
Youko.

“Come on, I won’t bother you if you just let me suck you-“

“How about you come with me later? For lunch, I mean. And maybe afterwards to
a hotel, but only if you behave there,” he added quickly as he saw how her
eyes started to shine. Because despite everything, despite the fact that Youko
looked like a perfect slut on the outside, he loved her with all his being.

“For real?” she beamed.

“Yeah, for real,” Ken smiled back, patting her head despite the fact that
she was one year older than him.

“Oh god, I love you so much!”

The boy almost doubled over as his girlfriend threw herself at him, throwing him
off balance.

“But I can’t go like that! I have to take a shower! I don’t have the right
stuff to wear! Oh my god! What should I do??”

“…Just wear your school uniform, or anything else that you have. I’ll make
sure they don’t mind,” Ken mumbled, tempted to massage the soft lumps that
were pressed against his chest. “And um… Well, the showers are completely
deserted since everybody already left…”

Youko grinned predatorily. “And who just told me to stop?”

~*~

The little café Ocean Avenue was closed that day. It was always closed to
public when the Deimon Devil Bats had a game these days. The Takekuras would
invite everybody with them to go there and since they had been regular customers
for over 20 years, the owner was always happy to hold those little family
parties.

Today was no exception.

“Ken-kun, your kick was amazing! Just like your father at that age!” the
shop-owner praised him, hitting his back so hard that he almost fell forward
onto the table.

“Wasn’t he? I always knew that he could do he, he just has the power in his
legs and his hips-“

“Youko!”

“I’m just telling the truth here! Ask him, he was the one who suggested
it!” Youko giggled as she pointed directly at Hiruma, who sat on the other
side of the table, sipping on his coffee thoughtfully, wondering when all of
this celebration was over.

Surprisingly, everybody had accepted Youko easier than Ken had expected; his
mother had smiled at him fondly and with something like nostalgia in her eyes as
she said that they looked good together. His father had hid his smile behind his
hand, obviously nervous because of something, but Ken wasn’t the cause. 

On the other hand, Hiruma was just as nervous so something must have happened
between those two, but Ken could not imagine what. He was just glad that he and
Youko got along so well that they could have been father and daughter. And they
had the same opinion on most things, too, which was kind of scary if you took a
moment to think about it clearly.

“Yo, sis’, what did you do to make Ken bring you here? He usually refuses to
let you anywhere near his family,” the wide receiver who had run the feint
earlier asked, leaning over the quarterback’s lap to talk to her. The tall boy
did not move one inch though, he just sat there like a stone.

“Well, isn’t my right as the leader of the cheerleader to be here?” she
snapped back, flipping him the finger. “And how do you dare talk back to me?!
I’m your older sister, wait till we get back home and I’ll show you who’s
the stronger one of the both of us.”

Musashi chuckled where he sat next to Hiruma, opposite to his wife. “Somehow,
she reminds me of somebody...” he chuckled silently.

“Does she?” Hiruma asked in a bored tone, not really interested in the
quarrel going on. “I don’t get it, why are we celebrating when we lost?”

“Because it’s fun and a tradition. We did it when Youichi was still at
Deimon High and we just kept doing it after every match, just because,”
Musashi explained.

“Is that so,” Hiruma sighed. “Maybe those guys should train more than
celebrate.”

“Do I sense criticism? You can still become their coach if you want to.”

“Never.”

Musashi laughed heartily. “Yeah, just like you never wanted to form a football
team at all during Junior High.”

“Shut up, that was then. What is more important, when are you going to tell
Mamori?” Hiruma asked, staring up at the other through his bangs.

Musashi blinked, taken aback for a heartbeat, then scratched the back of his
head sheepishly. “Um… I… Well, I don’t know how to tell her.”

Hiruma wished for one of his guns so that he could point it at the other man
now, but in the rush earlier he had forgotten to take one. “Just say anything!
She knows your non-existent way with words, you big stupid fucking geezer.”

“Tell me what?” Mamori asked suddenly, making both man look at her in
surprise, as if she has just caught them in the act of something dirtier than
just talking.

“Um… Well… it can wait. Until we get home,” Musashi said, buying himself
some time. “It’s nothing that should be discussed on a party.”

Hiruma rolled his eyes again and wished again for his guns, so that he could
cause some commotion in this place.

“I still think training would be better than a party.”

“And I still say that you should stop moping and become the coach of this
team, if it’s bothering you so much,” Musashi grinned.

“Who is moping, fucking geezer?” Hiruma mumbled. Irritated he looked over to
Tamura Kouichi, who had been eyeing him strangely for a while now, wondering
what the hell he would want from him.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said to Musashi, giving the boy a stern look so
that he would follow him a little bit later.

Outside, around the corner, he stopped and turned around to see the boy just
behind him.

“What do you want from me,” he demanded immediately, any fine speech
completely forgotten.

“Whoo, straight to the point, that’s cool,” Kouichi grinned.

Hiruma raised an eyebrow, giving him the ‘you annoy me, you die’-look for
good measure.

“Whoa, scary!” Kouichi said, raising his hands in a defensive motion.
“Well, it happens you’re exactly my type.”

Hiruma’s eyes widened considerably in surprise and he wasn’t exactly sure if
he should kill this boy right on the spot or laugh out loud.

Neither option was favorable, so he just stood there, waiting for the boy to
explain himself.

“You heard that right, I think you’re hot. Wanna try me?”

…Hell, even Musashi was more subtle than that.

“…Kouichi, right?” Hiruma asked, his tone flat.

“Tamura Kouichi, that’s right,” the boy grinned. He was not tall, he was
not very muscular, but had long legs and long arms. With the right training he
could become a decent receiver, a fast one even. Perfect for long passes, and if
Hiruma judged the quarterback right, he was one who could throw long hard
passes, just like he did when he was younger.

“You know how old I am?”

“Yes, you could be my father. Maybe my grandfather. Still you’re a hot piece
of meat.”

Hiruma made a face. The youth and its language.

“Listen, if you don’t want me to kill you on the spot keep your mouth shut,
understood?” Hiruma growled, eyes hidden under his bangs.

“Y-yessir!”

“Fine, now that we cleared that up, come here for a moment,” Hiruma said and
beckoned the boy closer. Kouichi obeyed, looking almost eager. “Now face the
wall… a little closer… put your hands next to your head… yes, perfect.”

And faster than Kouichi could react, Hiruma had put his hand on the back of his
head and banged it against the stone brick wall.

“Ow! That fucking hurt!” the boy protested, struggling against the
steel-like grip.

“It did? Good,” Hiruma said and repeated the movement. “Hopefully it helps
you remember that I’m not interested. Not at all. You’re like… 20000years
too late.”

“Could you stop banging my head against the wall? It got it, I got it!”
Kouichi mumbled, tears streaming over his face from the pain, a lump already
forming on his forehead.

Hiruma threw him against the wall one more time for good measure before he let
go of him. “Very well. And now tell me what you really want? You can’t be
that desperate for a fuck, can you? Just ask one of your fellow students or
something. I bet they’re less declined to you than I am.”

“I would, but I don’t think that Atsushi’s into that kind of stuff,”
Kouichi said, trying to measure the damage done to his head. “…Oops…”

“Oh, I don’t think that he would be completely against it. He would have
shoved you away earlier if he were,” Hiruma grinned.

“But… Ken didn’t seem like he would be completely against it either… and
still he refused. And now he’s fucking my good-for-nothing, stupid older
sister,” Kouichi complained, trying gingerly to cool his forhead by putting
saliva on the lump.

“Well, maybe, just maybe, he’s not gay. Or he doesn’t want to endanger
your friendship. You’ve known each other for a long while, haven’t you?”
Hiruma asked, not moving to help him clean up.

“Yeah, and I’m glad that I’m still his friend despite… everything,”
Kouichi sighed as he leaned the back of his head against the wall. “…I just
tell them that I tripped and hit my head. That will be a magnificent
headache.”

“That would be better,” Hiruma agreed. “...Let’s go back inside.”

Kouichi picked himself up, staggered a little from the dizziness before he was
able to walk straight. They had not walked very far when they heard two voices
– one male, the other female – arguing heatedly.

“How do you think I will be able to raise the kids alone? What have you…
Just how?!”

“Please calm down, I have a plan, a good plan. I won’t leave immediately, in
5 years maybe, so there will be enough time to prepare everything. So please
calm down-“

“I knew that this day would come! I knew it when he left, when he agreed on
doing that! He never said it out loud, but whenever I see him looking at you
it’s like ‘He’s mine bitch and you know it! And I’m here to take him
from you!’ And I can practically hear him cackle-“

“Mamori, please calm down, you’re not yourself. You know he won’t ever say
anything like that-“

“The fact that he doesn’t say it doesn’t mean that he won’t do it! And
you should know that best!”

Musashi sighed. “Please, calm down. It’s not like you ever loved me, just
like I never really loved you.”

Hiruma stared in disbelief and the couple in front of him. That had to be the
first time that he ever saw them argue, no, fight. And he wondered what happened
to the time that Musashi had bought earlier.

“This… looks bad,” Kouichi said next to him, a thin trickle of blood
making its way down along his eyebrows.

Somehow, things had taken a turn to the worst possible scenario.



                            Kapitel 17: Inside Out
                            ----------------------


Mamori glared her hardest at her husband, even though she did not quite mean it.
She just hated the fact that she had known things would come to this. She had
always known that she would be the one losing out in this complicated triangle
of love, lust and necessities because Gen and Hiruma were destined for each
other and that was nothing that she could change.

And even though she had come to love him over the years and had thought that
maybe he had too, it kind of hurt when she had to realize that there was no way
for her to win against that one true love.

On the other hand it was pretty romantic, just like the kind of love she read
about in her novels, to keep loving somebody over the years and physical
distance and everything, but she could not help to feel angry with her husband
to do things like he had done them.

A few meters away, Hiruma stared down at the boy who had been so brazen to hit
on him. Not that there had not been many like him before, but he was definitely
the youngest so far. A part of him honestly respected him for his courage.
Still, he regretted nothing. The kid was definitely one who had to learn things
the hard way.

“How long do you plan to lie on the ground like this? Come on, you have a loss
to celebrate.” With that, he started walking back to the café.

Kouichi picked himself up, coughed and wiped away some blood, staggered a little
from the dizziness before he was able to walk straight. They had not walked very
far when they heard two voices – one male, the other female – arguing
heatedly.

“How do you think I will be able to raise the kids alone? What have you…
Just how?!”

“Please calm down, I have a plan, a good plan. I won’t leave immediately, in
5 years maybe, so there will be enough time to prepare everything. So please
calm down-“

“I knew that this day would come! I knew it when he left, when he agreed on
doing that! He never said it out loud, but whenever I see him looking at you
it’s like ‘He’s mine bitch and you know it! And I’m here to take him
from you!’ And I can practically hear him cackle-“

“Mamori, please calm down, you’re not yourself. You know he won’t ever say
anything like that-“

“The fact that he doesn’t say it doesn’t mean that he won’t do it! And
you should know that best!”

Musashi sighed. “Please, calm down. It’s not like you ever loved me, just
like I never really loved you.”

Hiruma stared in disbelief and the couple in front of him. That had to be the
first time that he ever saw them argue, no, fight. And he wondered what happened
to the time that Musashi had bought earlier.

“This… looks bad,” Kouichi said next to him, a thin trickle of blood
making its way down along his eyebrows.

Hiruma found himself forced to agree, especially when Mamori’s palm connected
soundly with Musashi’s cheek.

“You didn’t have to say that!” she cried out, almost screamed as even from
this far away Hiruma was able to see the tears in her eyes from the hurtful
words that Musashi had just said. “I loved your and our family with all my
heart and I really thought that you had, too!”

“Oh shit,” Kouichi whispered, then suddenly his vision went black and he
collapsed next to Hiruma, unconscious.

“Fuck.”

Never had this word been more appropriate for any kind of situation, Hiruma
thought, suppressed to hit his forehead with his palm and picked up the
unconscious boy. For a second he wondered if Kouichi would have been happy to be
this close to him, but then he directed his attention towards the bickering
married couple.

“Oi, you two! Could you lend me a hand here?”

Musashi’s head whipped around, staring at the blond first. “Hiruma! How long
have you-“

“Kouichi!” Mamori cried out instead, her mother instincts taking over before
anything else. With one look she ascertained the situation, saw the blood
trickling down the boy’s face and glared at the older blond as if he had done
something. “What happened?”

“He hit on me,” Hiruma dead-panned.

“…You mean, he hit you,” Mamori corrected.

“No, I hit him when he hit on me,” the blond said, not looking into her
sapphire blue eyes.

“You did WHAT?!” Mamori exclaimed and practically pulled Deimon’s current
wide receiver out of the blond’s hold. “Why would you do something so
unbelievably ridiculous?!”

“I told you, he hit ON me! Had to teach the dumbass a lesson,” Hiruma
mumbled, not really happy with the consequences of his actions. Still, he did
not regret them, but he would a fool to rub that into the mother hen’s face.

“…Gen, get here,” Mamori ordered and since Musashi was never the man to
disobey any orders when he knew he was at the shorter end of the line, he walked
over reluctantly, his left cheek turning crimson. He took his son’s teammate
out of his wife’s arms, threw his arm over his shoulders and watched in horror
how Mamori aimed and took a well-aimed swing and hit Hiruma hard and square in
the face.

Musashi winced as Mamori watched – with a certain amount of satisfaction that
kind of scared the older man – Hiruma fall to the ground in slow-motion as she
shook her now aching right hand.

“So, and now one of you calls the ambulance while I tell the others that the
party is over.”

~*~

A few hours later, Musashi and Hiruma said in the waiting room of the local ER,
both with a cooling pack pressed to their face. Mamori was currently busy
telling Kouichi’s parents what the doctor’s had told them earlier, namely
that the boy’s injuries were not so bad, just that he fainted due to the loss
of adrenaline and something else, Musashi had not really listened to all of
this.

He was much more concerned with the fact that somebody might have overheard his
quarrel with his wife.

“…Fear of paparazzi?”

“…yes,” Musashi admitted with a sigh. “I will have to explain this
tomorrow… I have a meeting.” He motioned to his swollen cheek.

Hiruma snorted and then hissed as a wave of pain shot through his face. “At
least you only got the palm… I got the full fist and a black eye for free in
addition to that.”

Musashi cast his eyes sideways and snorted at the pathetic picture of the blond.
Mamori really had not held back with her punch and his left eye was already
almost completely swollen shut. He held the cooling pack gingerly to it and
tried to hide it mostly behind it. Well, there was no doubt that Mamori had a
strong right arm.

“I’m sorry,” Musashi chuckled. “Good thing you don’t go out that
often… and that you don’t have to meet people who can ask uncomfortable
questions.”

“Yeah, but just me being here causes you that,” Hiruma said, absolutely
serious. “I shouldn’t have come back now.”

“…No,” Musashi said after a moment’s hesitation. “No, it’s a good
thing that you came back now,” he sighed. “In three or five years – maybe
when Youichi is married and produced some kids on his own – I wouldn’t have
the courage to follow you… I’m not getting younger and sometimes I notice
it, no matter how much I want to deny it.”

He shifted the cooling bag against his cheek absent-mindedly. He knew that he
would hurt a lot of people as a consequence for his actions and he still
hadn’t figured out just how to do it, but… he would do it. Stubbornly see it
through, just like in the old days.

“…You’re a sucker for kids, aren’t you?” Hiruma teased, a small smile
playing around his lips. “You just like to take care of them, don’t you?”

Musashi stared at the blond, surprised by the sudden soft jab that lacked any
malice or teasing that he had expected from the other. “I…” he started,
but then snorted. “You seem to have a soft spot for kids, too. The way you
handled Sachiko-“

“I had to take care of an abandoned kid once, while her mother was shopping.
She called me all sorts of names and was the brattiest brat that I had ever
encountered,” he elaborated, staring at the tips of his shoes. “I hated her.
But her mother forgot her just like that, when she was such a lively girl, I
couldn’t understand it. And it took her until fucking midnight to figure out
that something was missing, too!”

Watching in poorly concealed awe, Musashi didn’t know what to do with that
explanation. He had always thought that kids would run away screaming from the
self-proclaimed demon, but to argue with him and make him get fond of them while
he did not like them before… that was a new one.

“That was the most educating day in my life,” Hiruma sighed. “That brat
showed me how to change diapers with her doll that kept on busting her fucking
diapers, and it was just a doll, for fuck’s sake! And it had the most
obnoxious voice, too! Like this, ‘Mama! Mama! I made poopoo! Change my
diaper!’”

Musashi restrained himself but somehow the image of Hiruma getting unnerved by a
doll was just too amusing. First, only chuckles bubbled out of him, but with his
imagination running wild, it turned out to be a full fletched roar of laughter.

“That’s not funny! That brat made me change that fucking doll’s diaper for
twenty fucking one times! Twenty-one! As if she knew the meaning behind that
number!”

By then the older man was laughing so hard, that he had to hold his sides, tears
of joy streaming over his face. “Oh, stop that, will you? This cheeks hurts
like a bitch, just so you know. And laughing doesn’t help either.”

The devilish ex-quarterback grinned. “That’s why I told you it’s not
funny! Geez, fucking old man, you never listen to me!”

Being unable to answer, Musashi just kept on laughing until his wife returned.

“…What are you laughing about?” she asked, incredulously, looking
sheepish.

“Nothing important,” both man said in unison, Hiruma’s tone slightly bored
while Gen just kept on grinning. She raised an eyebrow at that, but did not ask
for further explanation. They had probably just been making fun of somebody.

“…How are your cheeks?” she asked in a small voice. “I’m so sorry for
hitting you, really, I thought I had grown a little over the years, but-“

“It’s okay,” Gen smiled. “I’m sorry I hurt you, too. Let’s talk
about it later, okay? Just the two of us…”

Hiruma just kept his mouth shut, knowing that Musashi would inform him of the
outcome anyways, but his wife did not think so.

“No, this involves Hiruma just as much. He should be there, too,” she said
firmly. “Let’s go eat somewhere later-”

“No. Let’s talk at home. I don’t want to risk anybody overhearing what is
going to be said, today was risky enough,” Musashi interrupted her train of
thought.

For a moment, they stared at each other, battling for dominance until Mamori
sighed and gave in. “But I am not cooking… and you buy the alcohol. I know I
will need some.”

“Sounds good to me,” Musashi said with a bemused snort. “Do they still
need us here?”

“No, everything’s fine so far. I explained to Kouichi’s parents that he
had had a rough day on the field, I’m not sure how well they would react to
the revelation that a full grown man beat up a highschooler just because he felt
disturbed by his choice in partners,” she said, glaring down at the blond, who
chose to ignore her and cross his arms in front of his chest defiantly.

“Let’s hope somebody remembers to tell Kouichi that this is what he’s
supposed to say…” Musashi sighed, not quite happy with those lies, but he
had more important things to tend to than dealing with teenage boys.



                              Kapitel 18: Way Out
                              -------------------


May passed, just like June, July, August, September, October and November and by
the time that it was December, Hiruma's instincts were telling him that he could
not live like this. He was itching to move on, do something before he was going
to go insane.

The talk with Mamori back in April had gone well, better than he had expected,
they had agreed on a specific date and everything to complete Musashi's plans -
4 and a half years from now - but it just wasn't enough.

The worst thing was that they had not had sex yet.

At all.

After nine fucking months.

Some kissing, a bit groping, a lot of cuddling in front of the TV or skyline,
but nothing else. Musashi behaved like he was some fucking saint and every once
in a while Hiruma wondered if Sachiko was really his daughter. But then he took
a look at her eyebrows and there was no doubt left that Musashi was really her
father.

Thus, Hiruma wondered what he would have to do to seduce that self-proclaimed
saint or if he had decided that they did not have to have sex until the time
that he was finally free from his marriage. And if that was really the case,
Hiruma swore that he would kill himself within the next few months.

Which brought him back to his original plans.

So far he had been able to spend a lot of time looking for a place to stay at,
for a way to get there without being noticed and other important details. He had
cooked up a master plan, thought of each and every possibility, he had even
considered the impossibilities. Now he was getting bored and while that
apartment of Musashi's was still great, it was getting colder outside and Hiruma
was getting fed up with everything.

To put it frankly, he was so frustrated and pissed off that he lashed out at
everybody who dared to say a wrong word to him. On top of that, he intentionally
ignored Musashi, waiting for the other to make the first move into the direction
that he wanted. But that did not work as well as he had hoped, since it drove
the other further away from him. Perhaps he had spent too much time being
anti-social that he had forgotten how to make Musashi interested in him?

Hiruma sighed and realized that drastic measures had to be taken. He sighed and
closed his laptop, making plans to leave the apartment for his old storage
room.

~*~

As Musashi returned from his work that day, stressed out and dead-tired, he did
not trust his eyes at first. He blinked, shook his head, pinched himself, but
Hiruma was still wearing a maid's outfit. Complete with a little headpiece,
stockings and probably a garter underneath, too. He could not help it; he had to
lick his lips at that.

The blond bit back a smirk as he bowed lowly, talking in a voice as sweet as
candy, "Welcome back home, master. How was your day?"

"...What's with that outfit?" Musashi asked, too distracted to notice that
Hiruma took his coat and scarf and put it away, just to lead him to the dining
table.

There he sat him down and the man stared at the perfectly laid out plate and
cutlery. Even a pair of candles and a small but pretty bouquet that consisted
mainly of a single red rose, but with the skyline in the background, the night
sky and the whole ensemble, Musashi felt like during his university time again:
Romantic, full of dreams... young.

"Oh, nothing, I just wear a dress because I fucking like wearing dresses all the
fucking time, I just didn't want to you show this fucked-up side of me yet,"
Hiruma shrugged as he put the dinner in front of him. Home-cooked, not burnt for
once and perfectly arranged traditional Japanese dishes that made Musashi wonder
if Hiruma had really cooked all of this by himself.

"Oh, okay," Musashi said with a smirk as he started eating his soup.

Hiruma sat down on the other side of the table and started to eat his own share
of the dinner he made, always feeling Musashi's eyes on him.

"...What," he said, raising a delicate eyebrow.

"Nothing," Musashi smirked.

Hiruma wrinkled his forehead and narrowed his eyes. Glaring at the other as they
savored their dinner, the blond started to feel slightly uncomfortable in his
garter belt. And the other thing that he was wearing, especially since he had to
sit for longer than he had anticipated.

"This is really good," Musashi said after he finished the fish. "Did you cook
all of this yourself?"

"Pfft, no, I have no time to cook myself. I mean, I just sit here all day and
night, do nothing and... Oh! I wear dresses when you're not there and slip back
into my usually clothes once I hear the elevator coming up here," Hiruma lashed
out as calmly as he was able.

"You're really pissed off, hm?" Musashi mumbled, but looked slightly amused
nevertheless.

Glaring even harder, Hiruma wished he had not packed away his gun; it would have
been so handy right then.

"No, what makes you think that?" he said in a bittersweet voice, baring his
fangs.

"Hm, I don't know, but I think the fact that I had to exchange the sofa three
times this month thanks to the shot holes in the cushions. Oh, and those burnt
toasts I have to share with you every morning," Musashi smirked as he started to
eat the rice. He raised his eyebrows at the slightly different taste.

"How did you make that? It tastes good."

"Oh, that's a recipe I learned in America and... What the hell? You're not
interested in it anyways," Hiruma pouted, put away his chopsticks and crossed
his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a little child.

Musashi could not help but chuckle, even though he knew exactly what was going
on here. By all he means, he knew that it was his fault, but he wanted to know
just how far he could push Hiruma nowadays. Then again he was also unsure about
his own abilities, it had been years since he had done anything with another man
and while he was sure this was just like riding a bike, he could not help but
feel self-conscious about his abilities.

On the other hand, he followed the tactics of keeping Hiruma at bay until the
other was so depraved that anything would seem like good sex to him. So, maybe
tonight was the night.

Looking at Hiruma's seething face though, he knew he had better get it on
tonight or he would drive him away completely... again.

Thus, he also put away his chopsticks - he had finished dinner anyways - and
wiped his mouth before he stood up and walked over to his pouting maid for the
night.

"Thank you, it was delicious," he said as he placed a kiss on a bared part of
the blond's shoulder. The tense muscles under his lips relaxed a little, but not
nearly as much as to seem comfortable.

"Fuck, you don't know anything," Hiruma grumbled, still pouting. "You don't know
what's for dessert."

"Oh, I think I know," Musashi smirked and nipped at the other's point of ear.

He could see him shudder and sigh and the blush that spread across the blond's
cheeks which made him smile softly. Maybe he was not so rusty after all.

"No, fuck, this is not it. This is the after-dinner snack, not the dessert,"
Hiruma growled as he leaned his head to the side, granting the older one more
access to his neck. "The dessert is crepes with red bean paste and vanilla
ice-cream... and not this."

"Don't tell me you object," Musashi mumbled with his mouth around Hiruma's
sensitive ear and his hands on the other's thighs. The stockings felt nice on
those almost too thin legs and for a split second the man wondered how his lover
had managed to stay this skinny in America, of all places. Not that he minded,
but he started to feel a little self-conscious because Mamori's cooking had not
ceased to have its effects on him.

Ah, wealth, the downfall of every six-pack if you did not pay attention.

For a moment, Gen was hesitant about his next move, but then Hiruma had put his
hand behind his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. What was that movie
called? Spiderman? Back in the beginning of the century... Anyways, kissing like
that was quite uncomfortable, even more than he remembered. Consequently, it did
not take long for them to break the kiss.

"Hey, uh, how about we take this... to the other side of the room?" He asked
softly, his voice laced deeply with lust.

"What, dessert in bed?" Hiruma smirked. "This'll get messy, you know?"

"I'm counting on it," Musashi grinned back as he stepped back to make space for
Hiruma to push back his chair. Then he took the blond's hand and led him over to
the other side where his queen-sized bed stood.

But they did not even manage to get that far. On their way, Hiruma tackled the
slightly taller man down and they landed non-too-softly on the ground, their
fall thankfully softened by the thick carpet Musashi had put down in his
couch-corner.

The blond's thin lips were on his, a strong, familiar tongue deeply in his
mouth. He sighed, giving back as much as he received and let his hands roam over
the cotton fabric of the maid's costume. It felt so nice under his hands, but he
knew it would only get better once he reached under the ruffles of-

"Oh no, not yet," Hiruma smirked as he pushed himself up and to his knees in one
fluid motion, helping his lover to do the same, and together they managed to
make it the last missing meters towards the bed.

Hiruma smirked when the backside of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he let
himself fall down on it, taking good care that his clothes billowed around him
nicely, the short skirt riding up so high that Musashi could see he was not
wearing any underwear besides the garter belt. The older licked his lips and a
few seconds later Hiruma felt a strong and calloused hand ghost over the
sensitive skin of his thigh.

"Come on, old man, it's not like it's going to bite you," the blond smirked as
he put up his other leg, thus making the skirt ride dangerously high.

Musashi licked his lips in anticipation before he leaned down and resumed to
kiss the other. Meanwhile, his hand had finally reached its destination and with
a gentleness that the former quarterback was not used from the other, he started
rub up and down on the hardening length.

He moaned dutifully, but he also pressed his pelvis further against Musashi's
hand, demanding more friction. At the same time he pressed his knee against the
other's crotch, making him feel just how impatient he was. Unfortunately for
him, Musashi was still not convinced that easily.

"Fuck, I've been waiting for over 20 years for this, I would encourage you to
minimize the foreplay and get on with it!" Hiruma hissed, burying his nails into
the other's back.

Musashi inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut in pain for a moment, before
he glared good-naturedly at the blond.

"Fine, but I have to warn you: I'm a bit rusty," he said, before he sat up and
pushed up the layers of the skirt non-too-gently.

Hiruma squeaked and instinctively tried to push down the hems of his skirt, but
as soon as Musashi's mouth enveloped his erection with his mouth all thought of
covering him up decently were washed from his mind and he just reacted by
arching up and pushing himself deeper into the other's mouth.

The older choked and backed up a bit, took a deep breath and then tried again
while relaxing his whole body. With his thumb and index finger around the base,
he concentrated on twirling his tongue around the head of the blond's penis, and
massaged the underside of it as well as he was able to.

Moaning, Hiruma buried his fingers into graying black hair and massaged the
scalp underneath. Taking this as his encouragement to go on, Musashi doubled his
efforts and started to move his hand in addition to his mouth, trying to
remember what Hiruma had liked once.

To his horror, he remembered nothing. So he simply improvised, just like the
times when he did not know what to say in business meetings.

Frowning, he pushed away any thoughts about work and concentrated back on the
present and the cock in his mouth. Obviously he was doing something right,
because the blond started to writhe uncontrollably, pushing his pelvis up now
and then. Smirking, Musashi doubled his efforts once again, but it was not
enough.

"In... Inside me...." The blond moaned and spread his legs further, inviting the
other to complete his work. Musashi licked his lips, knowing exactly what Hiruma
wanted and - with a very sudden movement - he jumped off the bed to rummage
through his drawer.

"Hey," Hiruma said as he propped himself up on his elbows, "are you looking for
this?"

As the older turned around to look at his lover after he was about to rip out
the drawer of his nightstand.

"When did you...?"

"Oh, I put it in my little apron here, hoping that you'd have me before dinner,"
Hiruma said in a fake hurt tone and threw the little bottle at him, which the
other caught with little problem.

"...Would have been a waste of food," Musashi concluded while he spread some gel
onto the fingers of his right hand. He crawled back between the blond's legs and
continued to work on the neglected erection, while his fingers searched for the
hidden entrance. Since Hiruma showed so much impatience, he would give him what
he wanted quickly.

So, with much difficulty he did not remember from the last time, he managed to
get one, two fingers inside the tight tunnel, pushing deeper, feeling around
until he had found what he had been looking for. He gently caressed the little
nub, which resulted in him having problems to keep the blond down as he bucked
up with a howl. Musashi smirked and repeated his movement a few more times until
Hiruma started to break out into spasms and tried to warn him that he was
cumming. Warm seed coated the man's throat and he had a hard time controlling
his gag reflex as he tried to swallow everything.

When Hiruma had calmed down and was breathing normally again, Musashi had
already managed to widen him enough for more. Feeling a little playful, he
pushed in three of his fingers as far as he could once the blond opened his
mouth to say something to him. Thus, instead of words, only another gasped moan
came out of the kiss-swollen lips.

"Fuck! Do you want to kill me?!" Hiruma yelled after the older man had pulled
out his fingers with a grin.

"Nope, just being playful," Musashi grinned and crawled up to kiss the other's
lips, spreading his legs in the process. Calloused hands moved over the backside
of pale, thin legs, strong fingers grabbed the firm ass tightly and he tried to
push inside the widened hole, but he quickly realized that it would not work
without proper guidance.

Hiruma chuckled as the other readjusted himself. "I'm not a fucking woman with
self-lubrication ability; I really thought you'd remember that- Ack!"

"Sorry, I'm getting old and my bra-ah!-in is not working at full capacity right
now," Musashi smirked back after he had guided himself into the still tight
tunnel. He pushed forward, not once hesitating until he was completely sheathed
inside.

Hiruma clawed at his back, his long nails leaving dark red lines underneath his
shirt and Musashi reveled in the pain that distracted him from feeling so
wonderfully ecstatic inside of the only man he had always treasured more than
himself.

"Shit! Don't move so fast! I wasn't ready yet!"

"Oh, but I do think you were ready a long time ago," Musashi smirked and lifted
the blond's ass up, so that he could move freely, but before he started moving,
he took a few moments to look at Hiruma on his bed, hair and costume deliciously
disheveled, and with the barely reawakened erection and the joint point where
his own cock was deep inside him, it was more than just a wet dream.

It was the best damn thing that had happened to him.

In that moment of weakness he almost blurted out the three words, but he caught
himself instead and simply started moving. He started with long, slow strokes,
watching Hiruma's face as it displayed emotions of various kinds, starting with
pain and ending with pleasure, just to moan loudly when he plunged back inside.

From Musashi's point of view it looked very nice and used all of his mind-power
not to be overwhelmed just by the feeling of Hiruma around him and concentrated
on the visual arousal, mostly because he wanted to appreciate Hiruma in the
maid's dress in all of its glory.

The blond thanked him by moving most sexily, writhing with his thrusts, holding
on to his forearms as his legs wrapped around the older one's waist, his ankles
hooked against his knees for stabilization as he moved up against Musashi's
thrusts. Letting himself fall forwards, supporting himself on his arms on both
sides of the blond head, the former kicker fixed his eyes on his face, letting
his hips work on their own, while Hiruma did his best to destroy his rhythm and
take the upper hand.

He did not succeed though and Musashi determined the rhythm until Hiruma pulled
him down to kiss him. They continued moving and Hiruma's now fully erect cock
rubbing against his stomach did the rest to make Musashi come with a howl and
spill his seed deeply inside of the blond.

Hiruma mewled in response and when Musashi used his remaining batteries to wrap
his hand around the other's cock, it only took a few tugs to make him come
again, staining the maid's uniform in the process.

"Oh fuck it!" Hiruma gasped out once he had caught enough breath to speak again,
"that was fucking great!"

Musashi grunted, lying right next to him, spread eagle, because he was too lazy
to move.

"Okay, give me a few moments," the blond said and tried to sit up, but gave up
quickly and just turned around to lie on his stomach, fumbling with the fastener
of the dress, struggling out of it. "Better."

"...What now?"

"I said, give me a few moments," Hiruma gasped, "Next I'll be on top."

"...You want to do it again?" Musashi asked incredulously.

"Hey, I have to make up for over 20 years without you."

Musashi blushed and felt his weakness coming back to him, but before he was able
to say anything, Hiruma had captured his mouth in another kiss.

~*~

"I want to leave now," Hiruma mumbled as they lay there in the aftermath of
their lovemaking, the blond tracing lines on the other's chest.

Musashi sighed. "I can't do that. You know why."

"Fuck, yeah, I know, but I can't stay here like that forever! It's been nine
fucking months! I can't bear to live in this place like this, waiting for you
all day to come home to me as the only distraction of an otherwise boring day!
Hell, I even enjoyed making dinner today," Hiruma growled and let his nails run
over the other's sensitive nipples.

Hissing, Musashi squeezed his eyes shut and tried to listen to the other's
complaints. But there was nothing that he could do. He had to wait until Youichi
was old enough to take over the company, he could not leave until then and he
had thought he had made that clear to the blond during the last months.

"I don't want to become a housewife," Hiruma sighed after an almost endless
tirade of what he had done during the day. "I'm not MADE to be housewife!"

"...I'm sorry for making you stay here all the time," Musashi sighed. "But it's
not like you want to go out."

"No, but that's because it's no fun going out here in Tokyo. The fact that I
could meet people I don't want to meet and things I don't want to see and...
Fuck, I feel claustrophobic here. And I sure as hell won't be able to stand this
for much longer. And definitely not for 4 more years," Hiruma complained.

Musashi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that this
conversation would come up, but he had not expected it to come up so fast, or
after some mind-blowing sex. In fact, he had hoped that it would never come up
but he also knew that he would never be that lucky.

"Listen, I told you I can't go-"

"Of course you fucking can! You just don't want to!" Hiruma interrupted him as
he sat up before he was able to finish his thoughts. "What are you doing all
day? Signing papers that you don't even read and looking after the children of
your employees! You know that both Mamori and Youichi and everybody else in your
fucking company can take care of what you're doing and that it's not you who
makes all the decisions, but your fucking wife!!"

"Yes, but-"

"Oh, shut up! You know you can leave today! The fucking mother hen knows about
your reasons for leaving and if she really needs it, she will find ways to
contact you," Hiruma bellowed. "You are just not coming with me today because
you are too fucking chicken to take a step towards something you don't know!
Towards something you can't control, towards me! Because you are not used to me
anymore."

"But this is your own fault," Musashi tried to argue, "you left."

"Oh, thank you Sherlock, for reminding me," Hiruma yelled as he threw his hands
up in the air. "But fine, if you want to put all the blame on me, great! I can
leave any day and you will never see me again."

With these words, the blond jumped off the bed, naked ass glistening in the
moonlight and started packing what little he had for his belongings, which meant
that he disconnected his laptop and threw his clothes into his small suitcase.

"What are you- Hey! Where are you going?!" Musashi asked as the blond started to
dress back into his black turtleneck and black pants.

"As if I would tell you," the former quarterback snorted. "I'm leaving; I don't
want to be confined here anymore."

"But... but... You cannot do this!"

"See me doing it!"

"No! Stay! I need you!"

As Musashi had said these words, Hiruma, laptop in a bad around his shoulder,
suitcase in next to him, hesitated a few moments. Then he grinned. "Well, sorry,
I don't need you anymore. I want you, but I don't need you. You're twenty years
too late for this shit."

"But... Hey! There must be a way to-"

In a fit of soap opera dramatics, the blond wound one arm around his lover and
pulled him into a short, but very intense kiss. "If you want to show me that you
really want to be with me from now on, I'll see you tomorrow at 6p.m. at Narita
airport," Hiruma said breathlessly afterwards. "Here, take this."

"What is this?" Musashi asked, staring bedazzled at the piece of paper in his
hands.

"Oh, you will figure it out yourself. Now let me go, I have a taxi to take," the
blond pushed his lover aside and took the last few steps towards the elevator.
"...Good-bye."

"Hiruma, wait!"

It was too late though. Before the older man could take the last important steps
towards the elevator, the doors had slid shut and Hiruma had disappeared from
him.

He was reminded too much of the last time that he had left.



                             Kapitel 19: How I Go
                             --------------------


“Mom! Tell me this is NOT true!“ Ken yelled as he made his way into the
kitchen, the newspapers in his hands. The first page was full of big letters and
a big picture of his father.

“What do you mean,” Mamori asked in a bored, almost stoic tone as she
prepared the rice for everybody’s lunchboxes. Sachiko sat in her stool in the
back, happily munching away on her piece of toast while Takeshi watched the
whole scene over the top of his handheld player.

“Mom, don’t give me this! They surely must have called you already! He must
have been brought to a hospital first, right?!”

“Please, Ken, calm down, what is going on, I have absolutely no idea what you
are talking about,” his mother said in her stern motherly tone, the one that
told her children that she knew more than she tried to let on.

“Mom! Stop fucking with me-”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” the woman interrupted him and raised the
rice-scooper to hit him with it.

“I’m sorry for using swearwords, yeah, I know, you don’t need to berate me
on that,” Ken defended himself, “but shouldn’t they inform you if your
husband had a fatal accident on a construction site?!”

“What?!” escaped Takeshi’s mouth and he dropped the handheld onto the
table. “Dad died?!”

“That’s what they say here,” Ken said and pointed wildly onto the big
headline which read: “Fatal Accident! Boss Takekura Gen dead!”

“What?! How did that happen?” Takeshi asked as he grabbed the newspaper out
of his brother’s hands and skimmed through the article underneath it, and then
the ones on the next pages.

“Ken, Takeshi, please calm down. I did not receive a phone call last night,
from nobody, not even those reporters. I don’t know what’s supposed to
happen, but I do think that if something had happened a site of your father,
somebody would have informed me-“

“Sorry mom, for being so late,” Youichi mumbled as he stumbled into the
kitchen and helped himself to a cup of coffee. “There was an accident…”

“I know! They say dad died in it!” Ken jumped in before his older brother
could even start explaining what had really happened.

Youichi just stared at him with his amber eyes and then sighed. “Damn, I had
really hoped to be faster than the newspapers. Yeah, he had had an accident.
He’s not with us anymore,” he sighed, but did not sound very sad about it.
In fact, he sounded more annoyed than sad.

“How can you say such a thing without making a face?! How… how can you tell
us about the death of your own father without shedding a single tear?!” Ken
cried, his own eyes watery and blinking as he grabbed the older one’s collar
and shook him.

“…Youichi, come, we need to talk in private,” their mother said suddenly,
wiping her hands clean on her apron. “Ken, you stay here and keep an eye on
the rice. We… we will see about things later.”

“Yes, mom,” Ken said, but wanted to follow the two to listen in on them. He
knew his mother well enough though that he would not be able to stand a chance.
Thus, he sat in the kitchen with his crying little brother, trying to console
him while he himself wanted to wail like a baby, throw a tantrum and seek
revenge on whoever was responsible for that stupid accident.

Sachiko on the other hand did not quite understand what was going on, but she
knew that it was better to be quiet now than to start seeking for attention
herself. Still, the ongoing silence between her two brothers was making her
nervous and she also wanted to know what was going on.

“…Ken-nii?”

“Hush, Sachiko, everything will be alright,” Ken lied for the sake of his
little sister. “It’s just that… we won’t be seeing dad for a long
time.”

“Really?… why?” she asked, tears starting to well in her eyes already.

“He… he went on a business trip. For a longer time. We… we don’t know
when we will back. So, until then, we have to manage on our own, do you think
you can do that?”

Sachiko smiled and grinned self-assured. “Of course I can! I still have
mom!”

“Yes, we still have mom! And Youichi and me and our friends…” Ken sighed
and patted Takeshi’s head to cheer him up as well. It helped him to know that
he could depend on his family in these hard times, but he still wanted to seek
revenge on whoever killed his father.

On the other hand, what happened to his father’s friend, Hiruma? After that
disastrous game against Shinryuuji he had not really seen him again, but it
seemed like he was staying together with his father, so he should have known
what was going on during then nights that he had not been with his family.
Sometimes his father had dragged the blond to their family dinners, but you
could see clearly that he was not very happy to be there and Ken often wondered
why. He should be happy to be with them, because they seemed to be the only
family left for him, at least if you believed what the head of the
Takekura-family said. Also, his mom seemed to be quite keen on including him in
every family-business, too.

Suddenly he heard some rustling with the door that opened behind them, and three
pairs of eyes looked at their mother in waiting expectation.

Mamori looked pale, sad, but also very angry. She managed to keep herself down
though to explain to her children what Youichi had just told her. “Your
father… he has gone far, far away. He won’t be coming back soon.”

“So he’s really dead?!” Ken blurted, unable to hold back anymore.

The woman flinched slightly, but the only affirmation that the boy got was a
small, almost unnoticeable nod from her.

“Since… since he’s not around anymore, I will take the lead of Takekura
constructions in the mean time, until Youichi finished his studies. You know
that he will be done in about two years, so that won’t be much time. Your…
your father would have wanted that.”

“But mom! I can help you! You don’t have to work more than you already
do!” Ken protested, but one look from Youichi shut him up immediately.

“Don’t you think I tried that already? It’s not like I’m really needed
in university, but she insisted that I finished my studies. I mean, we’re all
old enough to look after ourselves, so there should be no problem if we both
take turns to look after Takeshi from time to time, right?” the older
Takekura-son said calmly.

I still disturbed Ken how his mother and his brother could be so absolutely calm
about this whole thing while still wanted to go around and get the head of that
guy who was responsible for this!

“How did he die?” Takeshi asked suddenly in a quiet voice. All eyes turned
to him and then to Youichi, who seemed to be the one to know most about it.
“I… I mean, I read in the newspaper that he fell from the 20th floor of an
unfinished building into the mould of a pillar with was filled with quick-dry
concrete that was still wet then, but already completely hard when they started
searching for him.”

“That’s… about correct,” Youichi said, scratching the back of his neck
in an embarrassed notion. “I really don’t know how it happened exactly
either, but it seems like Tamahachi saw him standing up there with somebody, but
when he looked again, there was nobody there. So he thought that he had imagined
things, until there was the sound of something falling into wet concrete. Then
he saw that dad’s car was still there and even though he looked everywhere for
him, he was nowhere to be found. Hence, he assumed the worst, called the police
and me, then the press got wind of it and that’s about it.”

“…So there’s the chance of that other person pushing him down?” Takeshi
asked silently and voiced Ken’s thoughts with that.

“Please, why should there have been another person? It was night, it was dark
and Tamahachi said he could not quite make out if there was another person or
not. He’s not even sure if he saw dad there, but since this is the only
solution and he’s not answering his phone anymore, we have to assume the
worst.”

“…So we don’t know anything, really,” Ken concluded, hope rising in him
that this was just one giant misunderstanding and that their dad was in fact
still alive and kicking.

“…If you want to look at it like that, then yeah. We don’t know anything,
other than dad has disappeared from the surface of the earth to god knows
where,” Youichi admitted. “But it’s no use to wait for his return if we
don’t know what happened and the public sees him as dead already.”

“Yeah...” Ken nodded, while Takeshi was biting his lower lip.

“Okay, then, you will go to school like every day, okay?” Mamori said and
started to prepare their lunchboxes. “If… when I know more, I will write you
a mail or call you, okay?”

“But mom! Our father just died! Can’t we stay at home and help you with
things?” Ken protested.

“No, I will be fine. I won’t be home much anyways, so it will be better for
you if you’re at school, doing something that’ll bring you further in life
instead of chasing stupid wishes that aren’t true anyways,” Mamori said
sternly. “Youichi and I will take care of everything, understood?”

“Yes, mom,” Ken and Takeshi sighed in unison, but they both knew that
neither of them would listen to that.

“Good, now finish your breakfast and hurry up or you will be late for
school,” their mother continued preparing their lunchboxes with mechanical
efficiency. Her children sighed and continued their breakfast, even though they
didn’t have any real appetite anymore.

~*~

“Mamori-san! It’s been a long time! How have you been?” Yukimitsu Manabu
asked as his current client entered his office. He smiled as he showed her to a
seat, getting her a glass of water himself instead of asking his personal
assistant to do so.

“Oh, it’s been rough times lately,” the women smiled serenely. “I think
you read the newspapers?”

“Yes, I did,” the almost bald man said as he sat down across the desk of
her. “I believe it’s all lies?”

“Unfortunately not,” Mamori sighed. “I know what happened, but I fear that
there will be a lot of voices for a public trial, which is absolutely
unnecessary.”

“But it will get you a lot of publicity,” the lawyer said, trying to
overcome his surprise of the sudden announcement of one of his schoolmates and
friends.

“Yes, but that’s probably not the best thing for Takekura Constructions. We
never wanted to be in the spotlight of society and tried to play in the
background while others took the front row for us. They deserved it more than we
did, we only did hard work while they entertained the public,” Mamori
reasoned. That had been her husband’s doctrine and she tried to continue
living by that.

“I understand. But by the way that things happened, it will be hard to stay in
the background. You know that people will try to put their noses into things
that they should better not know?” Yukimitsu said, already starting to take
notes. “But first things first. In case of a trial or just an investigation
for murder, we should be prepared for everything. I need all witnesses,
everybody who knows just the tiniest bit of what could have happened that
day.”

“I will arrange that. Are you free any time soon? I can show you around on the
construction site where it happened. You can ask everybody there.”

“Well, I lost the last case and ever since I have been getting a bit less
clients, so I’m actually free for the rest of the day and all day tomorrow,”
the other said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, if that’s fine
with you, I would like you to show me the site today? Before too many policemen
trampled over all those evidences left.”

Mamori laughed softly, reminding the man of their high school days, during the
spare times that she had been able to laugh so freely. Secretly he wondered
though how she was still able to laugh like that when her husband had just died.
“I’m sorry, but of course you can come with me today,” she smiled. “I
only have to be at the kindergarten at the right time to collect Sachiko.”

“Oh, your youngest one, right? How is she doing?” Yukimitsu asked curiously,
hoping to distract her from her worries to see her smile more often. “And what
are your sons doing? I heard that your second is trying to make the Devil Bats
as successful as they were back in our days.”

“Oh, yes, he is. But they are still lacking the right coach. He asked Hiruma,
but he refused up to now,” the woman told him.

“Oh? He’s still in Tokyo?” Yukimitsu inquired, but only got a shrug in
response. “I don’t know. I know that Gen knew where he was and that he
dragged him to some of our family dinners, but I don’t know where his hotel is
or anything. The only one who knew that was Gen…”

For a moment the balding man looked her thoughtful face and wondered what was
going on in her mind and behind this cryptic story, but before he could ask,
Mamori spoke up again.

“I do have a feeling though that he is nowhere near anymore,” she said with
a crooked smile. “I don’t know why, just call it female intuition.”

“Oh, I learned to trust the subtle feelings of a woman before all hard
facts,” Yukimitsu chuckled. “So I will be very unlucky to see him again some
time soon.”

“I think, we all will be very unlucky with that,” Mamori agreed. “Oh, I
have another favor to ask. I need a personal legal advisor in a special case. I
will tell you everything on the ride to the construction site, is that okay?”

Yukimitsu nodded and told his assistant that he would be leaving the office for
the rest of the day and that she was allowed to go when she was finished with
that day’s paperwork, too.

She thanked him and set them off with a smile.




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