Three Yakuza and a Baby, Chapter 7
Title: Three Yakuza and a Baby, Chapter 7: Asami's unrest
Author: priestess_grrrl
Series: Viewfinder, which belongs to the wonderful Yamane-sensei, not me.
Pairing: Asami/Akihito
Rating: PG 13
Notes: Once again, thank you for waiting!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7: Asami's unrest
Something was wrong.
Asami could feel it as he punched the redial button with his thumb just a little too hard, dialing Takaba’s number for the third time. No answer. Granted, Akihito was at work, and he could very well be busy or just have his phone turned off, but Asami was not satisfied with that explanation. Akihito knew better than to ignore his phone calls. The fact that it had been over an hour and he hadn’t called back was definitely reason to be concerned.
A feeling crept up Asami’s spine that might have been paranoia, if he ever allowed himself to be paranoid, which he did not. Worrying did not solve anything. Anxiety was both weak and useless. Action was always better than sitting around fretting like some nervous housewife. Asami had been a man of action his entire life and he wasn’t about to change now.
The question was, however, what was the appropriate action to take at this time? His men had already told him that they had nothing to report. Everything seemed to be running smoothly. No sign of trouble at Takaba’s building. Feilong was still quite busy spending Asami’s money on trinkets for Kokoro. None of his other subordinates had reported any problems. Everything was quiet.
Yet the feeling persisted, and Asami couldn’t shake it. He flicked open his cell phone and redialed Kirishima’s number. “Asami speaking. I need you to find Takaba and bring him here as soon as possible. Let me know immediately if there are any problems.”
Though he knew that Akihito would be angry for being pulled out of work, Asami didn’t care. Right now the only thing that mattered was that he knew where Takaba was and that he was safe. Everything else was inconsequential.
Running a hand through his dark hair, Asami stood and resumed pacing his office like a caged panther, his fingers involuntarily twitching toward the hilt of his sheathed gun. He’s probably fine. If something has happened, I will deal with it. This is not a problem. It’s probably just Takaba being Takaba.
More than once since he had returned from Hong Kong, Akihito had thrown Asami and his men into code red by deciding at the last minute to ditch his previous plans and do something spontaneous. It would start with a phone call from Kirishima reporting that Takaba had slipped off their radar and that they couldn’t locate him. Asami would be strapping on his guns and preparing for war, only to find Takaba ten minutes later, sitting on a park bench with ice cream all over his face, grinning like an idiot.
Asami had scolded him about this repeatedly, but Akihito was incorrigible. Even after all he had been through, he stubbornly insisted on sailing through life like a leaf on the wind, gliding wherever he fancied. In Akihito’s world, the new flavor of ice cream at the 7-Eleven was the most pressing matter in the world, despite Asami’s persistent arguments to the contrary. There was nothing Asami could do. His little butterfly insisted on flying free, which left him only two choices: to let him go, or to crush him underfoot, which he could not make himself do.
The truth was, though he was loathe to admit it, ever since nearly losing Akihito, Asami had become fiercely protective of his lover, to a point which he knew was unhealthy. Worse than that, it was dangerous. Asami did not like having weaknesses, especially not the kind that were glaringly obvious to everyone even remotely associated with him.
Takaba’s kidnapping and subsequent rescue were so widely known that they might as well have been posted on the Yakuza Daily News. Asami had been so focused on getting Akihito back that he hadn’t had time to consider the fact that he was basically giving everyone in organized crime an open manual on how to get Asami Ryuichi by the balls.
It was a classic conundrum, and one that up until now Asami had prided himself on avoiding. Many a seemingly invincible crimelord had been rendered completely impotent once his enemies had discovered that he had a woman stashed away in some remote province for whom he would give up everything he had in the blink of an eye. Asami had watched their empires tumble like houses of cards, marking their mistakes and swearing that he himself would never be so foolish.
Before Takaba had been kidnapped, Asami had been convinced that he was entirely immune to such a fate. He certainly wasn’t attached to Akihito; the boy was a plaything, nothing more. Playthings were replaceable. Empires were not. It was very simple.
Yet since then, things had gotten more and more complicated. Asami now found it difficult to go even two or three days without seeing Takaba, without making sure with his own eyes that he was safe. He thought maybe this would go away after a couple of weeks, or even months, but if anything, the feeling had only gotten stronger. Just about the only time he wasn’t worried about the boy was when he was directly on top of Akihito, with his arms locked around him. The rest of the time he had to suppress the urge to gun everybody down who stood between them.
The worst of it - which Asami would admit to no one - was that if he let it go too far, images would start appearing his mind, unbidden. A single shot ringing out in the night. Akihito falling, as if in slow motion. Asami running, running down the stairs, as fast as his wounded leg would carry him, not fast enough, never fast enough. Akihito lying splayed out on the ground, covered in blood, his soft features pale, his bright eyes closed. His skin had been so cold when Asami had touched his face. For a few unbearable seconds, he thought he’d been too late. Too late. He’s gone. I’ve lost him. How could I have let this happen…?
Asami kicked his desk drawer closed angrily. This is not helping. His own weakness infuriated him. Why on earth should he be having flashbacks, like a traumatized twelve year old, as if this were the worst thing that had every happened to him? All the people he had watched die, many of them by his own hand, and this one shot, not even fatal, was going to haunt him forever…? What the hell was wrong with him?
This had to end, and it had to end now. It was impossible to run a business under these conditions. He was just going to have to tighten the reigns on Akihito, whether the boy liked it or not. Asami had a connection in the tech business who could provide him with the right equipment to have Takaba monitored 24-7. He hadn’t wanted to take it so far, but he was through fooling around. The time had come.
The sharp ring of his cell phone jarred him back to the present moment. “Asami speaking.”
Kirishima’s voice was clipped. “Problem.”
Asami swallowed, once. “Report.”
“Takaba is MIA. No one has seen him since 0900 when he arrived at the building. The darkroom shows signs of struggle.”
“What kind of signs?”
“Spilled chemicals, broken equipment. General disarray.”
“Any sign of Takaba?”
“His cell phone was found at the scene. Also…”
“Also?”
Kirishima hesitated. “…the last picture he was developing… it was yours, Sir.”
The last picture. Akihito had woken him up this morning with the flash of his ever-ready camera. Damn it.
“Scour that room. Go over everything with a fine toothed comb. I want to know exactly what happened and I want to know now. Get everyone on it. Report to me immediately when you find anything.”
“Will do, Asami-sama. We will find him.”
Asami hung up and just barely resisted the urge to hurl the phone across the room. He settled for collapsing on the leather couch with his head in his hands. Macabre images immediately began flashing through his brain, and he pushed them away angrily. There’s no time for this. I have to think. Someone had taken Akihito. Someone wanted his attention, badly. Why?
It must have to do with the baby. The chances of them being unrelated were slim to none. Only it made no sense. Whoever had left the baby with Takaba obviously trusted him. Why would they then turn around and kidnap him? Was it a second party, then? But why snatch Akihito, if it was the baby they were after? Asami needed information, and he needed it fast.
Feilong. It was unwise to call him at such a desperate moment, knowing Feilong’s temperament, but at this point, Asami didn’t care. He knew how skilled Feilong was at information gathering; he surely knew something by now. The more facts Asami had at his disposal, the better. If he had to put up with Feilong’s antics, so be it. Takaba was more important. Takaba was the most important.
The phone rang numerous times before Feilong finally picked up, fraying Asami’s already thin patience.
“Wai! Hello! Miss me already, Asami-chan? Hang on a sec…”
He could hear Feilong’s insufferably high voice twittering on in the background. “Yes, we will take both the silk and the satin, thank you! Tao, tell the nice lady we’d like them gift wrapped. Don’t forget the bow on top!” Asami tried not to break the phone in his tightening grip.
“Okay… so where were we? Did you want to invite me to lunch? I know this great place in Chinatown for roast duck - ”
“Feilong. I need you here now. As in immediately.”
“Sheesh, someone has their Calvin Kleins in a bunch! What’s the matter, your little dog giving you trouble? I told you, he responds well to punishment - ”
“Feilong.” The tone Asami was currently using made lesser men wet themselves on a regular basis. In Liu Feilong’s case, however, it only managed to make him more irritating, if that was possible.
“Alright already, I’ll be there. Send your stupid Yakuza limo to pick me up; I'll be in front of Saks Fifth Avenue. Tch, and they were about to give me a complimentary manicure, too. Really, Asami, your timing is - ”
Asami hung up on him and immediately dialed his limo driver. You will get here, and you will get here now, and so help me God if you get in my way, I will pull out all of that girly hair of yours until you tell me everything I’ve ever wanted to know.
He sat back down on the couch and took a deep breath, gripping the hilt of his gun. The dark images kept coming. Not good. Not good at all.
Author: priestess_grrrl
Series: Viewfinder, which belongs to the wonderful Yamane-sensei, not me.
Pairing: Asami/Akihito
Rating: PG 13
Notes: Once again, thank you for waiting!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7: Asami's unrest
Something was wrong.
Asami could feel it as he punched the redial button with his thumb just a little too hard, dialing Takaba’s number for the third time. No answer. Granted, Akihito was at work, and he could very well be busy or just have his phone turned off, but Asami was not satisfied with that explanation. Akihito knew better than to ignore his phone calls. The fact that it had been over an hour and he hadn’t called back was definitely reason to be concerned.
A feeling crept up Asami’s spine that might have been paranoia, if he ever allowed himself to be paranoid, which he did not. Worrying did not solve anything. Anxiety was both weak and useless. Action was always better than sitting around fretting like some nervous housewife. Asami had been a man of action his entire life and he wasn’t about to change now.
The question was, however, what was the appropriate action to take at this time? His men had already told him that they had nothing to report. Everything seemed to be running smoothly. No sign of trouble at Takaba’s building. Feilong was still quite busy spending Asami’s money on trinkets for Kokoro. None of his other subordinates had reported any problems. Everything was quiet.
Yet the feeling persisted, and Asami couldn’t shake it. He flicked open his cell phone and redialed Kirishima’s number. “Asami speaking. I need you to find Takaba and bring him here as soon as possible. Let me know immediately if there are any problems.”
Though he knew that Akihito would be angry for being pulled out of work, Asami didn’t care. Right now the only thing that mattered was that he knew where Takaba was and that he was safe. Everything else was inconsequential.
Running a hand through his dark hair, Asami stood and resumed pacing his office like a caged panther, his fingers involuntarily twitching toward the hilt of his sheathed gun. He’s probably fine. If something has happened, I will deal with it. This is not a problem. It’s probably just Takaba being Takaba.
More than once since he had returned from Hong Kong, Akihito had thrown Asami and his men into code red by deciding at the last minute to ditch his previous plans and do something spontaneous. It would start with a phone call from Kirishima reporting that Takaba had slipped off their radar and that they couldn’t locate him. Asami would be strapping on his guns and preparing for war, only to find Takaba ten minutes later, sitting on a park bench with ice cream all over his face, grinning like an idiot.
Asami had scolded him about this repeatedly, but Akihito was incorrigible. Even after all he had been through, he stubbornly insisted on sailing through life like a leaf on the wind, gliding wherever he fancied. In Akihito’s world, the new flavor of ice cream at the 7-Eleven was the most pressing matter in the world, despite Asami’s persistent arguments to the contrary. There was nothing Asami could do. His little butterfly insisted on flying free, which left him only two choices: to let him go, or to crush him underfoot, which he could not make himself do.
The truth was, though he was loathe to admit it, ever since nearly losing Akihito, Asami had become fiercely protective of his lover, to a point which he knew was unhealthy. Worse than that, it was dangerous. Asami did not like having weaknesses, especially not the kind that were glaringly obvious to everyone even remotely associated with him.
Takaba’s kidnapping and subsequent rescue were so widely known that they might as well have been posted on the Yakuza Daily News. Asami had been so focused on getting Akihito back that he hadn’t had time to consider the fact that he was basically giving everyone in organized crime an open manual on how to get Asami Ryuichi by the balls.
It was a classic conundrum, and one that up until now Asami had prided himself on avoiding. Many a seemingly invincible crimelord had been rendered completely impotent once his enemies had discovered that he had a woman stashed away in some remote province for whom he would give up everything he had in the blink of an eye. Asami had watched their empires tumble like houses of cards, marking their mistakes and swearing that he himself would never be so foolish.
Before Takaba had been kidnapped, Asami had been convinced that he was entirely immune to such a fate. He certainly wasn’t attached to Akihito; the boy was a plaything, nothing more. Playthings were replaceable. Empires were not. It was very simple.
Yet since then, things had gotten more and more complicated. Asami now found it difficult to go even two or three days without seeing Takaba, without making sure with his own eyes that he was safe. He thought maybe this would go away after a couple of weeks, or even months, but if anything, the feeling had only gotten stronger. Just about the only time he wasn’t worried about the boy was when he was directly on top of Akihito, with his arms locked around him. The rest of the time he had to suppress the urge to gun everybody down who stood between them.
The worst of it - which Asami would admit to no one - was that if he let it go too far, images would start appearing his mind, unbidden. A single shot ringing out in the night. Akihito falling, as if in slow motion. Asami running, running down the stairs, as fast as his wounded leg would carry him, not fast enough, never fast enough. Akihito lying splayed out on the ground, covered in blood, his soft features pale, his bright eyes closed. His skin had been so cold when Asami had touched his face. For a few unbearable seconds, he thought he’d been too late. Too late. He’s gone. I’ve lost him. How could I have let this happen…?
Asami kicked his desk drawer closed angrily. This is not helping. His own weakness infuriated him. Why on earth should he be having flashbacks, like a traumatized twelve year old, as if this were the worst thing that had every happened to him? All the people he had watched die, many of them by his own hand, and this one shot, not even fatal, was going to haunt him forever…? What the hell was wrong with him?
This had to end, and it had to end now. It was impossible to run a business under these conditions. He was just going to have to tighten the reigns on Akihito, whether the boy liked it or not. Asami had a connection in the tech business who could provide him with the right equipment to have Takaba monitored 24-7. He hadn’t wanted to take it so far, but he was through fooling around. The time had come.
The sharp ring of his cell phone jarred him back to the present moment. “Asami speaking.”
Kirishima’s voice was clipped. “Problem.”
Asami swallowed, once. “Report.”
“Takaba is MIA. No one has seen him since 0900 when he arrived at the building. The darkroom shows signs of struggle.”
“What kind of signs?”
“Spilled chemicals, broken equipment. General disarray.”
“Any sign of Takaba?”
“His cell phone was found at the scene. Also…”
“Also?”
Kirishima hesitated. “…the last picture he was developing… it was yours, Sir.”
The last picture. Akihito had woken him up this morning with the flash of his ever-ready camera. Damn it.
“Scour that room. Go over everything with a fine toothed comb. I want to know exactly what happened and I want to know now. Get everyone on it. Report to me immediately when you find anything.”
“Will do, Asami-sama. We will find him.”
Asami hung up and just barely resisted the urge to hurl the phone across the room. He settled for collapsing on the leather couch with his head in his hands. Macabre images immediately began flashing through his brain, and he pushed them away angrily. There’s no time for this. I have to think. Someone had taken Akihito. Someone wanted his attention, badly. Why?
It must have to do with the baby. The chances of them being unrelated were slim to none. Only it made no sense. Whoever had left the baby with Takaba obviously trusted him. Why would they then turn around and kidnap him? Was it a second party, then? But why snatch Akihito, if it was the baby they were after? Asami needed information, and he needed it fast.
Feilong. It was unwise to call him at such a desperate moment, knowing Feilong’s temperament, but at this point, Asami didn’t care. He knew how skilled Feilong was at information gathering; he surely knew something by now. The more facts Asami had at his disposal, the better. If he had to put up with Feilong’s antics, so be it. Takaba was more important. Takaba was the most important.
The phone rang numerous times before Feilong finally picked up, fraying Asami’s already thin patience.
“Wai! Hello! Miss me already, Asami-chan? Hang on a sec…”
He could hear Feilong’s insufferably high voice twittering on in the background. “Yes, we will take both the silk and the satin, thank you! Tao, tell the nice lady we’d like them gift wrapped. Don’t forget the bow on top!” Asami tried not to break the phone in his tightening grip.
“Okay… so where were we? Did you want to invite me to lunch? I know this great place in Chinatown for roast duck - ”
“Feilong. I need you here now. As in immediately.”
“Sheesh, someone has their Calvin Kleins in a bunch! What’s the matter, your little dog giving you trouble? I told you, he responds well to punishment - ”
“Feilong.” The tone Asami was currently using made lesser men wet themselves on a regular basis. In Liu Feilong’s case, however, it only managed to make him more irritating, if that was possible.
“Alright already, I’ll be there. Send your stupid Yakuza limo to pick me up; I'll be in front of Saks Fifth Avenue. Tch, and they were about to give me a complimentary manicure, too. Really, Asami, your timing is - ”
Asami hung up on him and immediately dialed his limo driver. You will get here, and you will get here now, and so help me God if you get in my way, I will pull out all of that girly hair of yours until you tell me everything I’ve ever wanted to know.
He sat back down on the couch and took a deep breath, gripping the hilt of his gun. The dark images kept coming. Not good. Not good at all.