The Thread, a hana yori dango fanfic

Disclaimer: As everyone knows, I do not own the characters from Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers.

Nor do I own The Thread by Art Garfunkel, Buddy Mondlock & Maia Sharp

Thank you, Kamio-sensei!

The Thread

A Hana Yori Dango SongFic

By Janice Rips

At the corner of 53rd and the summer of '62
The first time I felt the tug of what I call the thread of you

'We will always see each other.'

It's her first time visiting him since he decided to come to New York. The streets are still loud, crowded, confusing, the subway even more so. Somehow she's found her way here, albeit fifteen minutes late. She glances about her, frustrated. 'Where is he?'

"Makino! What are you looking over there for? I'm right here, baka!" 'Look at me, touch me, reassure me...'

"Doumyouji!" She throws herself into his arms. 'Finally!' "Who are you calling 'baka', baka?"

"You're late... as usual. Ne, forget about it, I'm used to it by now," he waves off her apology. "Come sit, we need to plan what we want to do with the day."

There at the Lever House
Street map across our thighs tracing the getaway
Leaning in close I'm feeling your fingertip

'Ohmigod, he's got his hand...! If it wasn't for the map... I knew I should have worn a longer skirt!'

"Makino! Have you been listening to a word I said?" His brow crinkled in irritation.

"G-gomen nasai... What were you saying?" She flushed red with embarrassment.

"I was asking you where you wanted to go for lunch! Where is your head woman? See, right here on the map," he pointed, running his finger over the lines representing the city streets, "we're here, and we're going there, and we could stop to eat here or... Ne, Makino, what's with you?" he paused, peering curiously at her pinked cheeks.

"H-hand!" she squeaked.

"Huh?"

"Hand! Your hand! Doumyouji, your hand is--"

He glanced down, only just noticing that he'd been tracing patterns all over her bare thigh through only a thin sheet of paper.

Now they both blushed red as beets.

This time, this place
This state of grace
The promise of tomorrow
Your thread runs through
Park Avenue
Street of dreams and sorrow

It was over lunch when he reached across the table, took her hand.

"Doumyouji?"

"Here." He pressed a small velvet box into her palm. "This time, I want to do it right. Open it."

The solitaire diamond winked up at her, looking as startled as she felt. "Tsukasa??"

"Tsukushi. Marry me."

"B-but I can't!" she panicked.

"WHAT?!" Heads turned at his outburst. He glared at them, and they quickly found their own meals fascinating. "Why not?"

"Ano... I have to finish school, and you're here and I'm there, and--"

"Baka onna! I don't mean right this minute! I mean, agree to marry me. After you graduate, and I come home. Promise me."

O-okay, I can do that," she stammered, red-faced. Suddenly she found herself engulfed in his embrace. "Tsukasa??"

"You've made me so happy! Thank you." He squeezed tighter.

"Just hurry up and come home. I promise I'll make you happy then."

Seven years up the road and two blocks south
On the run from a sudden rain with too much to talk about
On our knees we choose to end in St. Bartholomew's

"Come on!" His strides were impossible for her to match.

"Tsukasa, wait! We need to talk about this!" She tried to pull him to a stop.

"But do we need to get soaked? Come on, in here," he gestured.

"But that's a church!" she objected.

"Yeah, so? It's dry." He held the door. She huffed inside, pausing to genuflect. He tapped his foot impatiently. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"I want to know, what do you mean, you're staying in New York?"

"I told you, I can't leave, not now."

"But the four years were up four years ago! How long until we can be together?"

"Well, if it makes you so unhappy, why don't you move here?"

"You know I was offered an associateship at a firm in Tokyo! Why can't you transfer back to the Tokyo office?"

"Why do you have to work, anyway? And I can't come to Tokyo, I'm needed here."

"You promised to come home!" she shouted.

"I am home!" he hollered back.

She just stood there, fiddling with her engagement ring, letting the reverberations of his words wash over her. "Fine, Doumyouji. Have it your way," she murmured, staring at her feet.

He looked stunned. "You've been calling me 'Tsukasa' for years. Why is it now 'Doumyouji'?"

"Because it isn't proper for a single woman to be so intimate with a man who is already married."

"What are you talking about?!"

"You! You're married to your company! You always put me second to its needs, and I'm sick of it! So that's that, Doumyouji. We're through!" She reached out and slapped him hard, left-handed."

"Agh! Tsukushi!!" he cried out, clapping his hand to his cheek.

"I told you to keep all your promises, Doumyouji. Until you decide to do that, you can keep this!" She tore the engagement ring from her finger, threw it to the floor at his feet. She ran out of the church and past his startled driver.

The driver was doubly astonished upon entering the church and coming face to face with his employer. "Sir, you're bleeding!"

He took his hand from his face, stared dumbly at the blood in his palm. Wordlessly he stooped to pick up the ring at his feet, briefly pondered the crimson tarnishing the stone that ripped his cheek, then stuck it in his pocket.

"Should I go after her sir?"

"No," he sighed, "let her go. After all, I suppose I already did."

This time, this place
This fall from grace
The promise of tomorrow
Your thread runs through
Park Avenue
Street of dreams and sorrow

"I'm not discussing this any further, Nee-chan."

"But Otouto-kun, what of the family name?" She wrung her hands.

"What of it?" His tone was ice.

"But Otouto, Okaasan is very concerned that you haven't even married, much less--"

"Look, she knew how I felt. She kept me so busy, I didn't notice until it was too late. In my effort to do what was right for the company, I lost sight of what was important to me. She accomplished what she set out to do. Now she can live with the consequences."

"Tsukasa, I know you miss Tsukushi-chan, I miss her, too, but--"

"Don't. Do Not." His eyes blazed. "If it matters that much to you, Tsubaki, then why don't you pop out a kid? Then Okaasama's precious company can stay in the family. But don't look at me. As far as I'm concerned, the future of the Doumyouji family name died the same day as my dreams."

This town is my every day but sometimes the grand design
Marries a common road to an uncommon time

"You wanted to see me, Takehito-sama, sir?"

"Ah, yes, Makino-san! Come in." He waved her to the chair opposite his desk. :Please, sit down." She bowed respectfully to her employer, then perched herself on the edged of the seat and looked at him expectantly. "You're probably wondering why I asked to see you. Let me assure you, nothing is wrong. On the contrary, you're doing an admirable job. You are quite the asset to our firm, and as such, I wish to offer you an unprecedented opportunity."

"Thank you, sir. I am uncertain of my worthiness, but I will do my best to represent our firm. Please, continue."

"The position, should you choose to accept it, will involve a promotion, and with it, a commensurate increase in responsibility. We are opening a new office specializing in corporate law. We would like you to head up the new branch, and, as such, you would be made a full partner in the firm. There is a particular account we hope to acquire. Should you close that deal successfully, your future here would be assured. But the competition to gain this particular account is fierce. Frankly, Makino-san, I need your answer within the week."

"Of course, Takehito-sama, I would be proud to represent our firm! I will close the deal. You can count on me."

"Good, good! Take the rest of this week off to pack, we'll send professional movers to help you, and more to settle you into your new apartment on the other end. Your flight leaves Saturday morning."

"Excuse me, sir... my flight?" She grew apprehensive.

"Oh, yes, I didn't tell you, did I? Our news offices are on Park Avenue, as is your new apartment. Your personal assistant, a native Manhattanite, will fill you in."

"Manhattan? As in, New York??" Her stomach lurched.

"Yes, yes," he affirmed, "we really need this account, and the company's president, a young man about your age, wishes to choose his representative personally. He has a reputation for being shrewd, but quite stubborn, and refuses to complete the deal at his Tokyo offices. If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, the mountain will go to Mohammed. This deal is important, Makino-san. It could make or break this firm."

The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach increased tenfold, but she put on a brave smile. "And the name of the company, Takehito-sama?"

"The Doumyouji Corporation, of course."

"Of course. Thank you for your belief in me, sir." 'Oh, Kami-sama.'

By the Waldorf Astoria at 49th and now
Out of the uptown flood
Your face appears somehow in a passing car
Wearing a tiny scar

'It was nice of Takehito-sama to put me up in such a nice hotel while the movers unpack my stuff into the apartment. Not that I have all that much to unpack, mind you. He must have a lot of confidence in me, to give me this assignment. I just wish I had as much in myself. If it were anyone else, I know I could close the deal, but Doumyouji's a loose cannon under the best of circumstances. And this is definitely not the best of circumstances. He's bound to make it personal. That could work for or against me, depending on how he approaches it. That is, if he even remembers me.'

As she stepped to the curb to hail a cab, she thought she saw a familiar head of curls topping a once-dear silhouette in a sedan driving past. 'Doumyouji... He hasn't changed much... I hope I can get a cab soon, it won't do to be late...'

As he shuffled papers at his desk, his secretary paged him. "Mr. Doumyouji, your 1 o'clock is here."

"Refresh my memory, Miya-san?"

"The representative from Takehito and Associates, sir."

"Ah, yes. Send him in, please."

"Her, sir."

"Alright, whatever. Her then. Please send her in."

He didn't look up from his papers and contracts. Lawyers were a necessary evil. And he hated dealing with female executives, they always grated on his nerves. Should he decide to work with Takehito's firm, he'd have to make this clear. Takehito should have come to see him personally. Ah well, might as well hear what this woman had to say before he dismissed her summarily. "Welcome to New York. Please have a seat, Miss...?"

"Makino. Makino Tsukushi, Esquire, at your service. Takehito-sama sends greetings and his most humble apologies for not attending this meeting himself." She spoke matter-of-factly, as though this were any average business meeting.

He went very still. This was a voice he'd thought never to hear again, but saying such foreign things. Slowly he looked up. A thirty-something woman impeccably clad in a plum-colored business suit, her hair in a sleek chignon, sat opposite him, her legs demurely crossed at the ankles, hands in her lap. Her smile seemed confident, but slight strain showed at the corners of her eyes. "Makino," he breathed.

"Doumyouji-sama." She inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you for consenting to see me. I am certain our firm can meet your needs quite capably. I'll be handling all the contracts personally." Fierce determination burned in the doe-like eyes that met his own.

He looked her over carefully, took in the quiet air of confidence, the self-assured poise. Remembered her sense of justice, her willingness to fight for what she felt was right, was important. This woman would be formidable in a court of law, and her frugal nature would ensure that all the deals she negotiated for his company would be lucrative, indeed. Then he noted the plain gold band adorning her left hand. "No."

"Sir?" She cocked her head, confused.

"No. I can't work with you. I won't." He looked away.

She began to bristle. "Doumyouji-sama, that's not fair. You haven't even listened to our proposal, and--"

"I'll hear what Takehito has to say, just-- I can't work with you. Send someone else."

She stood, stared at her shoes. "I see. Thank you for your time... Doumyouji." She turned to go.

"Tell me, Makino, is he a good man?"

She looked up, puzzled. "Takehito-sama? He's an excellent employer. He--"

"Not him." He wouldn't look at her. "The man whose ring you wear. Your husband. Is he a good man? Why didn't you take his name? Does he make you happy?"

Understanding dawned on her face. "Ah. My ring. No, he's not a good man. He makes me work long hours, I constantly have to earn his respect, and I come home to an empty apartment and a lonely bed every single night."

His brows knitted in irritation as he glared at her. "Why would you marry a man like that, Makino? You deserve better."

She laughed, but there was little humor in it. "Why indeed? You're right, I do deserve better. Much better. At one point, Hanazawa Rui told me I deserve only the best. It may sound spoiled of me, but I agreed with him, too.

And you know something? I really thought I was getting the best. I worked hard, I persevered. I went through hell. I put aside all my doubts, my fears, my preconceived notions... everything except love and trust. I believed. I wanted the best, and I dared to believe that I could have him."

There it was, that fire, that flame that made him want to reach out and grab her, hold her and never let go. But he knew firsthand that her flame could as easily burn him as warm him. And that slim gold band said clearly, 'Don't touch.'

"The best." She shook her head. "He was a diamond, you know. Often a diamond in the rough, but still a diamond, all the same. But this gem had one flaw, a tiny one that shouldn't have made such a difference. But it did. He broke the promise he made to me, to both of us. My clear-eyed champion, the man who set his sights on a goal and achieved it, found himself caught between duty and honor. And I did understand-- how many times did I put duty first? But the same man who taught me that duty has its limits, forgot that lesson himself. I waited and waited, but his duty became never-ending. Finally, I gave him back the token of his promise and told him to hold on to it until he intended to fulfill it. Then I bought this ring, put it on my finger, and tried to keep living my life in a way that would make him proud, should he ever come back to me."

Shock washed over his features. "Wait a minute-- you bought the ring yourself? Then... you're not really married?"

"Oh, I'm married, all right! I'm married to a promise, an ideal, a memory. A dream. In the meantime, I work hard. I earn my boss' approval, my coworkers' admiration. I take the best care of my clients. I go home and sleep alone. While I sleep, I dream of what might have been, what might still be. Then I get up and do it all again. It's not easy. And today was the hardest, leaving everything that was easy and familiar behind and coming to face you, not because I stopped waiting, but for the sake of my job, my firm, my boss. I don't want to be here, doing this, but I'm no coward. So I ask again, Doumyouji-sama, please consider my firm's proposal. Don't let personal feelings interfere with business."

"You waited." He stared at her incredulously.

"Yes. I waited. I'm still waiting... baka."

He closed his eyes, sighed deeply. 'Baka. No one's called me that in years. They wouldn't dare. I should be insulted, but the truth is, I've been longing to hear her say it, from the moment she walked in here.' Then all thought flew from his head. He went very still. She was touching him.

Her soft fingers tentatively explored the small puckered scar in his right cheek. "Doumyouji... your face. What happened? Who did this to you?"

He rubbed his face against her palm, savoring her touch, before he answered her. "I had a fight with the most beautiful woman I've ever known. As we fought, she toyed with the ring I gave her, and when she slapped me, the stone was inside her palm." She gasped, but he chuckled as he continued. "She always said that stone was too damn big. 'Ostentatious.' Yeah, I mesmerized that word."

"You mean 'memorized'," she corrected.

"Ah, damn it... You know what I mean. Anyways, I guess she was right. It hurt like hell. When she slapped me, it tore up my cheek. But when she threw it at my feet, it tore up my heart. I never knew she was still waiting for me to keep my promise. She told me we were through."

When she spoke, her voice was so low he had to strain to hear, barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. Your beautiful face... I'm so, so sorry. Doumyouji-sa--"

"I swear, if you call me 'Doumyouji-sama' one more time, I'll go mad. Don't look at me like that! Is that all that's left? Am I just another deal to close? Damn it, Makino, don't pity me, and don't treat me like just another client! That's why I can't work with you! I don't want you to see me that way! I'm not the Doumyouji Corporation, I'm just a man!"

"You were never 'just' anything! How am I supposed to see you? As the man who turned my world upside down? As the man who bullied his way into my heart? Who forced me to feel things I never had before, to look beyond my own front door? Who believed in me, believed I could do anything, be anything, that I wanted to, then set out to prove it to me, to make me believe it, too? And, having done all that, then broke my heart and left me to fend for myself, without his love, his strength behind me?

As long as you believed in me, the world was mine for the taking! But when you pushed me out of your heart, all I could do was get back up and try to build a life for myself, throw myself into my work and go on as best I could. And now, you're the man who can make or break my career. If I don't get this contract, then I go back to Tokyo in disgrace, to push papers and handle minor cases in ignominy for the rest of my days. My career is all I have left, Doumyouji. I need it. Don't make me see you as the man who took that away from me too," she pleaded desperately. "Please. How should I see you?"

"How about as the man who is still so madly in love with you?" His words dropped into the silence.

"D-Doumyouji?"

He chuckled. "You still stutter when you get nervous."

"It's 'stutter'," she corrected.

"I know. That is what I said."

"A-are you sure?"

"I'm sure." He advanced on her.

"Oh." She backed up. He followed. He caressed her cheek, drew her to him. He bent to kiss her. She put a hand to his lips. "Wait."

"I won't wait. Not anymore." He moved her hand away and kissed her, tenderly at first, then fiercely, like a man starved for affection. He pulled back, gazed down at her.

"You're still too short."

"You're still too pushy."

"You still blush too easily."

"You're as red as I am."

"You're argue-tentative."

"You mangle the language."

"You talk too much."

"Shut up and kiss me."

This time, this place
This state of grace
The promise of tomorrow

Miya was shocked to see Mr. Doumyouji smiling, smiling and laughing, actually, as he came out of his office with the lawyer from Takehito and Associates. "Sir??"

"Miya! Clear my afternoon schedule and hold all my calls. I'm going to show Miss Makino around town, then take her to dinner."

"Yes sir!" She nodded frantically. 'That young woman is no mere lawyer, she's a miracle worker.'

"You're kidding!" He laughed at her.

"No, I'm not, I've always wanted to eat there! Isn't it good enough for you?"

"It's not my first choice, but it's fine, in that regard... still, Benihana? Are you sure? It's such a cliché!"

"Please, Doumyouji?"

"Okay, but next time, I pick the restaurant."

"Deal. Now about that contract..."

"Makino! Must we? We're having such a nice time."

"Do you want me to stay in New York?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then I need to close this deal, Doumyouji."

"No you don't, you could just stay with me."

"No! At least, not yet. It's too soon."

"Too soon?! How can you say that?! Besides, it's not like you would need to work if you were with me."

"Doumyouji, I love my work! And besides, if you support me--"

"--We won't be equals. Yeah, I know, I remember. You're so stubborn... Okay, we'll discuss the contract over dinner, but only on two conditions."

"And those would be?"

"One, we discuss the contract only over dinner. Over dessert, we talk about us."

"And?"

"And two, that you stop calling me 'Doumyouji'. Please, call me 'Tsukasa', like you used to."

"Okay, but not at the office. There, you're still at least 'Doumyouji-san'. It would be bad for business to act too familiar."

"Well,--"

"Also, I can't call you 'Tsukasa' if you keep calling me 'Makino'. It sounds weird."

"Thank you again, Tsukasa. Takehito-sama will be very pleased."

"Ah-ah, no more business, we're having dessert now... And, once again, you've ordered something sweet and sticky."

"And, once again, you're only having coffee."

"I like coffee."

"And I like sweet things. Want a bite?"

"No, thanks."

"Come on, try it."

"Don't want it."

She shoved a forkful at him. "It's delicious."

"You're so stubborn." He eyed the fork with distrust, but took the bite to please her. He grimaced and shuddered. "Ugh! How can you eat this stuff? It's too sweet!"

"Baka. Dessert should be sweet."

He watched, fascinated, as she took another bite. "Hey, you didn't wipe off the fork first."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "After all the spit we swapped back at your office, I should worry about germs now?"

He shook his head. "You still don't have a romantic bone in your body, do you?"

"Not really. Guess I'll have to leave the romance to you."

"Well... okay then." He pulled a small box from his jacket pocket, pushed it toward her. "Here."

"Tsukasa?" She stared at him, shocked.

"Open it," he urged.

"No." She shook her head, started to push it back towards him.

He reached out to stop her, covered her hand with his own. "Why not?"

"I... I couldn't. I don't want it. Not after all that happened."

He took her hand, and the box, in both of his hands. "Tsukushi... don't worry. It's not the same. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then... it's not that ring?"

He shook his head. "No, I got rid of that ring a long time ago... I misunderstood, I thought you were through with me... And, it just didn't seem right to keep it, like it was bad luck."

"I don't understand. If you didn't think you would ever see me again, then why do you have this? You didn't have time to get it today."

He blushed deeply. "I was angry for a long time after that day. Angry at myself, at my mother, at the whole situation. And I thought a lot about what I would have done differently, if I had it to do over again. I would have paid more attention to you, to your tastes, your needs. I realized that I fell in love with you, so why would I want to change you, force you to fit into my world? After all, you're the only woman I will ever approve of. I love you. So I thought really, really hard about what kind of ring you might like. And I went out and bought it, and swore that if I ever saw you again, and if you could ever see fit to forgive me, I would give it to you."

"Tsukasa..."

"It doesn't have to mean a commitment on your part. I just want to give a present to the woman I love. Just open it. Onegai."

With trembling hands she opened the box. Nestled inside it lay a lovely but modest ring, a heart-shaped diamond flanked by two small rubies. "It's beautiful. But Tsukasa, how can you be so sure? It's been years."

"If I wasn't sure of my feelings, I wouldn't have given you this. Tsukushi, today I feel the best I've felt in a long time. It's still true, days have no meaning without you there. Without you beside me, I'm a lost cause. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks, I lost you once, I don't want to lose you again." His grip was painfully tight. Desperation shone in his eyes.

"Baka. Why on earth did I ever fall in love with such a baka otoko? haven't you figured it out yet? Every time we part, the thread connecting us grows stronger. If you don't come to find me, eventually I will come to find you. You couldn't lose me if you tried. So yes."

"Yes? You mean...?"

"I mean yes. If you still want me, I'll still marry you. I'll wear your ring, and give you my promise."

He took her hand, removed the plain band and replaced it with his ring. Then he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Welcome home."

She hugged him back. "I'm home."

Your thread runs through
Park Avenue
Street of dreams and sorrow

Street of dreams and sorrow

The Thread was written by Art Garfunkel, Buddy Mondlock & Maia Sharp. Here are the lyrics: