Title: ResolutionAuthor: IkakoPairi

Title: Resolution
Author: Ikako
Pairing: Asami/Takaba
Warning: Mentioned sex
Notes: We finally finished it! Yay! Happy New Year! Even if it is a bit late ^_^
Disclaimer: No. We don't own them.

Attemps at Normality Series:
Part 1: Heart
Part 2: By Ikako: Confession
Part 3: Meet the Parents
Part 4: By Ikako: Heartbeat
Part 5: Love
Part 6: By Ikako: Happiness?
Part 7: Comprehension
Part 8: By Ikako: Subtle Things
Part 9: Questions
Part 10: By Ikako: Resolution
Epilogue: Epilogue



“Ah, there’s my driver! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have one last business meeting that I need to prepare for,” Ryou explained courteously. Asami gave him a sidelong glance.

“I figure you can use the time to talk seriously. It was nice to see you again Takaba-san, take care,” he continued, turning his attention to Akihito’s grandfather and bowed to the elder.

The remaining two lapsed into silence. In Jiro’s mind, he knew this was the perfect opportunity to corner him but at the same time, after learning about the dangers of Asami Ryuichi, it didn’t seem like such a good idea to confront him alone.

Should’ve called for back up… Jiro thought to himself.

“Do you have time now?” Asami asked, his tone revealing little of what he was thinking or feeling at the moment.

Jiro was flustered by the sudden inquiry. “Well, I can spare some time in my schedule,” Jiro bluffed, trying to make himself sound more busy than he really was.

Asami looked up at his blond guard. The man reacted quickly, hopping into the driver’s seat to start the engine. Asami jerked his chin at his limo. His usual gracious demeanor had disappeared.

Oh god let me live through this… Jiro’s inner thoughts panicked, his face flickered with a hint of panic but recovered soon after. The elder Takaba climbed into the back gingerly.

Asami watched Jiro with amusement.

Is this what Akihito is going to be like fifty years from now?

Jiro was by no means the stereotypical geriatric. The older man still carried a powerful charisma, similar to the aura of a feisty and wild prey that Akihito had so well inherited. Jiro’s sense of fashion was casual but not outdated, which was more than what Asami could say for the younger Takaba’s taste in clothes (which consisted mostly of ratty jeans and printed T-shirts, with the occasional vintage wear that threw back to the 70s).

Once on their way, Asami flipped open his cell, his blackberry in his other hand, flipping through page after page of electronic documents.

Jiro felt… mocked in a way. Asami seemed to be completely ignoring him and making it point to show how busy he actually was now that they had entered his world.

How pretentious!

Jiro allowed his eyes to wander around the cabin of the limousine until his eyes caught sight of a row of buttons, presumably for the automatic windows. Jiro tested one out, which ended up scrolling his side of the window all the way down. A blast of hot summer air attacked the cabin, shocking its passengers.

The window began scrolling upward immediately. Jiro turned to see Asami controlling the windows from his side. His cell was momentarily off his ear.

“I wouldn’t recommend that Takaba-san. We’ll be entering the highway,” Asami explained, his stoic expression recovered. Another clicked echoed in the cabin, signaling the child-proof window locks were firmly in place.

Jiro flushed in embarrassment. “Yes sir,” he replied sheepishly. Jiro turned away from the yakuza and sat through the rest of the trip in silence. The painful ride lasted for about half an hour, a miracle in Tokyo’s congested traffic. The limo pulled up to Club Sion, where Asami’s other guards rushed over to open the car door.

Jiro got out, albeit a bit awkwardly and followed Asami into the building. The club was silent and empty, as expected as its customers did not arrive until later. The staff was quietly setting up for that evening’s patrons. The employees bowed as their boss & guest walked past through the lounge.

Jiro trailed from behind, down a long corridor, a left corner, and then a right turn and into an elevator. Six floors up, they got off, past a secretary who acknowledged them both and through a pair of large mahogany double doors. They had arrived in Asami’s office.

“Have a seat, Takaba-san. My secretary will bring some tea in shortly. I need to make one more call. I apologize in advance for the wait,” Asami explained, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

Jiro sat down on the leather seats, and took in the scene. The man was truly a workaholic. The cell seemed permanently attached to his ear, the blackberry was an extra limb. Files were stacked like mountains on his desk. Asami was constantly talking to someone about something.

Why is my grandson enamored by such a man?

Jiro took the opportunity to watch this dangerous creature. He knew his grandson was wild and had a taste for trouble. Akihito wasn’t that different from when Jiro was young. The elder Takaba had a knack for making life difficult for himself years ago. In his teenage years he was treated like a gaijin because he spent much of his early childhood in South America. He had trouble adjusting to the foreign culture that was supposedly his birthplace and became a hateful youth, picking fights with schoolmates when he could. In his time, that alone was enough to make him a delinquent.

Asami truly represented power; a man of status, wealth and connections. The tone of his voice was cold and merciless when faced with a business partner (or was it a lackey?) but the man knew when to turn on the charm when need be. The secretary snapped Jiro out of his observations.

Asami snapped the cell off and joined his guest. “I hope you enjoy this brew. I believe you particularly enoy this brand. Cabrales Gourmet? I heard it’s a secret indulgence of yours,” Asami said, making small talk as he took his coffee black. Jiro stopped midway into stirring his fifth spoon of sugar into the black brew. Akihito didn’t know of it and Hitomi has made him cut coffee out of his diet for years (although he did sneak a cup or two occasionally behind her back).

“How do you know?” Jiro’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

Asami smirked. “I am very resourceful.”

Asami: 1; Jiro: 0 … the elder Takaba’s inner voice chimed.

“Let’s get straight to the point Asami-san,” said Jiro.

“Yes, let’s. I had to move a lot of appointments for this,” Asami agreed, doing little to make Jiro feel less uncomfortable.

Jiro took a deep breath. He might as well ask, as he seemed to have pushed the man’s patience already and he’s lived out most of his life anyways.

“Do you love my grandson?”

Asami’s lips pursed. His coffee cup hovered in front of his lips. Slowly, they curved upward. “What do you think?”

“You do not answer me with a question.”

There was a short pause. Outside, a siren passed by, screaming past the building. It slowly faded into the distance.

*****************************************

There was no mistaking that ringtone; Ryouichi knew it was his mother calling him on his mobile before he fished it out of his trousers’ pocket.

Sighing, he answered the call. The view outside the airport windows was pitched black and illuminated only by the lights on the runway.

“Do you know what if feels like to hear second-hand that a mother’s son had come back home but didn’t bother to give her a call, much less a message that he was going to be back?” was the greeting Ryouichi received when the line connected.

“Okaasan …” he trailed, feeling a twinge of guilt but annoyed at the same time.

“Would it kill you to let me know what you are up to? You and Ryuuichi are so alike sometimes, unfortunately,” Aya lectured through the phone. Her son could hear her rustling some sort of paper from the other end.

“I was only going to be in and out of Japan for a few days, strictly for work purposes. I didn’t even tell Ryuuichi that I was going to be in the city. He looked me up on his own. I didn’t even pay Fujita-ojiisan a visit,” Ryouichi pleaded his case while referring to an old familiy friend to justify his in-town trip as he scanned at the monitor above quickly. The PA announcement echoed in the background, informing passengers of the latest flights to leave its gates.

“What is all that noise? Where are you?” Aya inquired.

“I’m at the airport. I’m taking the red-eye out back to Washington in less than an hour. My schedule was very heavy this time,” Ryouichi explained as he lugged his briefcase with him towards his gate, while trying to tuck away his plane ticket carefully without dropping his phone. It was surely a multi-tasking feat.

“You’re leaving already?” his mother asked. Ryouichi could see the expression on his mother’s face just by the tone.

“Okaa-san, I promise, I’ll visit you the next time I’m back in town. I’ll even bring Sara with me.” Ryouichi pulled out his bargaining plea.

“How is she?” her tone softened a little. Sara was a second generation Japanese-American that Ryouichi had an on-and-off romantic relationship. However, it was enough to leave Aya feeling satisfied that at least one of her sons had a more stable relationship and she often had a soft spot for her son’s girlfriend.

Ryouichi sighed, but this time out of relief. He had found his gate.

“She’s good. Still as bitchy as ever but I guess that’s what makes me love her … do you remember our conversation from the dinner party awhile ago, the one where Takaba-san and his family joined us?” he inquired, switching gears.

“Yes, what about it?” Aya asked.

“I think I might be right this time about this one… I honestly believe he’s seriously, even if he’s just a kid.” Aya paused to think about her son’s words.

“Perhaps,” she finally replied. Ryouichi chuckled. The ground attendants were beginning to board passengers on the plane.

“Listen, they’re starting to board so I ha