Start.

"You're dead."

The man and woman stopped talking and looked down at the boy who had suddenly appeared in front of them. His words were addressed to the woman and he said them in an unsteady voice. "You're dead…he said you were dead!"

The man clearly had no idea what this was about, but since his date wasn't responding he stepped between them. "Kid,you're gonna be dead if you don't get out of her face."

Junpei ignored him. "Mom, listen--"

"Wait, you have a kid this old?" Suddenly he didn't seem so passionate to defend her.

"Of course not. I don't know who he is." The woman turned her back on Junpei and strode off. The man hovered uncertainly for a moment and then followed her.

Junpei didn't go after them. He just stood there rooted to the spot, staring after her. The past four months of his life had been hell, and for what? All so his old man could save himself some embarrassment? In that moment he had no idea who he hated more.

That night, as they ate together in silence, Junpei fought with himself over whether he should tell his dad what he had seen. He had almost made it to the end of the meal when the impulse finally became too much for him.

"Hey, I have great news. Mom's not dead after all." He said it in a conversational tone as he helped himself to more rice.

His father acted like he hadn't heard. Junpei knew he should leave it at that, but he couldn't resist twisting the knife a little. After all, his dad had lied to him.

"She was with some guy though."

The next moment he was sent sprawling across the room, his rice bowl skittering in the opposite direction and rolling on its side before coming to rest. He heard his dad say "Clean it up" the moment before the door slid shut with a wooden bang. Junpei stayed there for awhile, the side of his face stinging, staring at the grains of rice on the tatami mat.

Fast Forward.

Her dark eyes flickered behind pale lids. He traced her collarbone, watching it rise just slightly to meet his fingertips, and brushed the hair away from her left shoulder. He was often intent like this, but this time it was subtly different and he knew she was trying not to notice. His jaw set and he focused on making her forget.

When it was over she seemed like she wanted to ask him, but couldn't. Her shy moments were rare and usually private to the two of them, and normally he liked to prolong them for as long as possible. He knew it would be cruel to do that now.

"This…it was the last time, wasn't it." He always used her mirror when he redid his tie and he watched her reaction in it now.

Her eyes widened and she looked panicked…but not nearly confused enough. In an uneasy voice, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"You finally fell in love. It's something you should be happy about." He turned and smiled at her, reassuringly if a little sadly. "I just wish it could have been with me." Then he frowned. Her shoulders had started to shake. When he went to touch her, she shrank away.

"This isn't what I wanted. You have to believe me."

"I believe you," Akihiko said quietly. "Stop crying." Mitsuru let him hold her, then. He felt the wetness soak all the way through to his shirt, but he didn't ask her to stop again.

Later that night he calmly asked Minato to continue leading SEES. In the background he could hear Junpei angrily demanding why it had to be him. Akihiko had wanted to ask Mitsuru the same thing earlier, but he had more restraint. He lifted his chin and told Minato he was entrusting him with a lot.

You don't know how much.

Fast Forward.

The day was unseasonably warm and Junpei had decided to take advantage of it. He had managed to sort out most of his feelings by now, but he didn't feel like apologizing to Minato quite yet. He knew he was going to have to admit he'd been immature and unfair, and it wasn't the most appetizing prospect. So, that Sunday, he had gone to what he had always thought of as "his" lot, to practice. It was just one of those odd dusty strips that hadn't been developed yet, and what little grass that grew there was brown this time of year, but nobody else used it and he liked it.

He tossed his ball and then swung. He hit it well, and Junpei's breath caught in his throat as he watched it. The ball went soaring across the lot, landing by the chain-link fence that bounded its far side. It was the kind of swing he wished someone had been there to watch. Maybe if Minato had been there, he would have been impressed. Junpei knew that whether he wanted to admit it or not, he admired Minato, and he thought that just once it would be nice to do something Minato would admire. But no one watched whenever Junpei did anything impressive.

"Are you gonna go get that?"

Junpei jumped slightly at the unexpected voice behind him and then slowly turned. He felt oddly relieved that it wasn't Minato, maybe because that would have been too much of a coincidence, but he was still a little disturbed to see Akihiko standing there.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" Junpei hoped his voice sounded normal.

"It should be obvious." Akihiko had clearly been running. The sweat was still standing out on his forehead, and even though it was silent his breath was still coming hard.

Junpei felt a little stupid for asking and to cover it up he said, "Yeah, well, you're a mess if you haven't noticed."

Akihiko looked down at himself and his eyebrows raised. His legs were painted with dust from the lot. He tugged at one of his socks in distaste.

Junpei was amused. Akihiko was apparently the kind of person who didn't like to get dirty if he could help it. He shifted the bat to his other hand and asked, "What did you think would happen if you kicked a bunch of dust up while you were all sweaty?"

"Well, excuse me for coming to watch. I'll never do it again." Akihiko's sounded annoyed.

Junpei's grin lost some of its edge. "So you saw? You saw me hit it?"

Akihiko didn't look at him. "Yeah, that was pretty good."

The wind stirred the dust in the lot. Junpei found himself staring at the brown grass at their feet. "There's that park a couple of blocks over. They got a water fountain." He shifted his gaze up slightly to include Akihiko's shins. "I'll get my ball and then you can go get cleaned up."

"Because I need so much help," Akihiko remarked.

But he waited.

Fast forward.

"It's funny. Your calluses are on your knuckles and mine are on my palms."

"I can always give you a closer look at my knuckles if you're that interested."

Junpei took the hint and let go of Akihiko's hand. "Sorry, it's just I almost never see you with your gloves off."

"Well, there's a reason for that." Akihiko held his hand up with the back toward Junpei and flexed it. The pale skin stretched taut over bone and muscle, revealing every mark and imperfection. The tape left faint red patches here and there that didn't always go away immediately. They were strong hands and they were very obviously used often. "Not exactly pretty, now is it?" His voice died as Junpei took his hand again and put it to his mouth.

Pause.

They stood there, frozen like that, for awhile. Akihiko was uncomfortably conscious of the slick heat engulfing his fingers. Junpei's eyes were shut as if he were sleepwalking. Even after he opened them again they stayed lowered, as if he were suddenly afraid to face him. Akihiko watched silently as Junpei slid his fingers out of his mouth. It left them feeling cold.

When Junpei looked up at him again it was obviously in anticipation of being hit, or at least sharply criticized. Akihiko studied Junpei's expression, which was something like shame and something like fear, and then turned and walked away.

Fast Forward.

Somehow they were walking together to his father's house. Junpei had remarked that he had to go back home to get something, and through some hidden process of implications Akihiko had ended up joining him.

As he unlocked the front door Junpei explained that his father generally got home late. Akihiko didn't have to ask why. From what Junpei had let slip every now and then, Akihiko knew that Junpei's father routinely went out drinking after work.

Junpei opened the door to his room and then froze on the threshold. It was more of a store-room now than a bedroom. His shoulders tensed as he surveyed the untidy array of boxes and empty bottles that littered the floor.

Akihiko walked past him, sending one of the bottles rolling. He looked around for a place to sit down and chose a pile of boxes near the single window. Junpei watched open-mouthed as Akihiko leaned back against them, ignoring the dust, and remarked coolly, "It looks a little different from the last time I saw it."

Junpei finally found his voice. "I can't believe he did this."

Akihiko merely looked back at him. He had a feeling that they weren't going to find whatever it was Junpei had needed. For all they knew, it had been sold. He knew he should say something, and was about to when Junpei unexpectedly spoke up.

"What do you remember about your dad?"

Akihiko turned his head and ran his hand along one of the boxes. Normally he wouldn't have considered answering something so personal, but he knew Junpei must really be bothered about his own father to ask a question like that. After considering, he said, "He was nice to Mom…and Miki had him wrapped around her little finger, of course." He paused and shut his eyes, remembering. "He was kind of on the quiet side. Except when his matches were on. Then he got excited and kept turning the TV up until Mom scolded him."

"Matches?" Junpei asked, even though he knew the answer.

"…He liked to watch boxing." Akihiko looked up at him then, defiantly, as if daring him to say the next thing on his mind. Junpei didn't say anything. They sat in silence.

Finally Junpei said softly, "I heard somewhere all guys want to beat their dads at something. I wonder if that's kinda true?"

"Yeah, well. I can't exactly do that."

Junpei nodded. "Death has a way of making people perfect." The way he said it made Akihiko look at him a little harder. Junpei's hands were resting in his lap and he seemed to be staring at them.

"Take my mom," Junpei went on. "Dead, she's perfect. Alive, she's just a--" His words were arrested by something warm that carried the faint scent of leather.

"Don't." Akihiko let his hand slip from Junpei's mouth. "Don't say that about your mom."

Junpei looked like he was about to retort with something, but instead he frowned and said, "Yeah, I'm sorry." Akihiko shook his head. The silence returned.

The edges of the boxes started to lose a little of their sharpness as the light in the room changed. Akihiko looked out the window even though there was nothing to see but wires stretching across the sky. Junpei moved to sit between Akihiko's knees.

There was no real shyness or surprise, only a little strangeness. The air was cool against his chest, but Akihiko didn't shiver. When Junpei leaned forward to kiss him he only shut his eyes and didn't try to stop him. Nothing broke the silence except for the occasional stray breath.

Akihiko was starting to forget the time and the place and Junpei had long since forgotten. He had never done this before and when he met no resistance it forced him to try and think of a next step. Akihiko watched him quietly, remembering what that sense of excitement had been like for him. He felt himself gradually being infected by it.

The door slid open.

Pause. Slow.

A man with Junpei's features (hardened and aged) looked down at the two of them through the space between the door and the wall. Akihiko was facing him, his hand on the back of Junpei's head, shirt draped over the box at his back. There was nothing for it but to look back at Junpei's father unblinkingly. He refused to show him any shame.

Junpei only realized what had happened when his father broke the silence with a sudden staccato burst of cursing. He whipped around, eyes wide, stammering an excuse. Akihiko reached for his sweater. By the time he looked up again he was alone and he could hear the sounds of a fight beginning in the next room. He got dressed hurriedly, impatiently kicking another bottle out of his way as he left.

Out in the main room a lamp had already been broken and the table was still rocking slightly from where one of them had knocked up against it. Junpei's father was shouting things, hurtful things, accusations that were both insulting and degrading. Junpei was more furious than Akihiko had ever seen him and was shouting back, saying all the things he had probably thought up until now and held back. Akihiko knew his own voice wouldn't be heard, so he waited until they got nearer and quickly moved between them.

"Stop it! He's your son." He had assumed that since Junpei's dad was an adult, he could reason with him, but he was wrong. A moment later he was looking to the side, his jaw tight. Akihiko knew how to take a punch, even from someone a lot bigger, but it had still hurt.

"You're the one that made him like that, aren't you? Get the hell out of here!" Junpei's father grabbed Akihiko's shoulders roughly and tried to shove him aside, and Akihiko's instinct took over. When he came out of it he was looking down at the man on the floor, shocked, as Junpei spoke to him frantically and pulled him back.

"Senpai, come on. We're going. We're going. …Okay?"

Outside it was night now, and cold. They had run for awhile, without speaking. As they slowed their steps to walk Akihiko passed a hand over his eyes and muttered, "Oh God."

"It's fine."

"It's not! I hit him."

"He hit you first. It's fine." Junpei gulped and then his jaw set and his voice got firmer. "It's fine, so shut up."

"Don't tell me to shut up," Akihiko said automatically.

Junpei glared at him, his hands clenched at his sides. His breathing was rough, either because they had been running or because he was angry. Akihiko wondered who he was more angry with, his dad or him for hitting his dad.

"Look," Akihiko said quietly. "Hit me. Okay? That's fair."

"That's stupid."

"No it isn't. You'll feel better, so hit me." He looked at Junpei calmly.

"…at least close your eyes."

"Fine." Akihiko closed his eyes. A minute later he grabbed Junpei's arms convulsively and took a step back. When Junpei pulled back they were both breathing hard.

"The dorm…I want to get back. Now." Junpei's voice was barely audible but Akihiko could hear everything he said.

"…Fine."

Fast Forward.

They fell back, panting. Junpei seemed to have something on his mind, so Akihiko kept silent and waited for him to speak. Eventually, Junpei propped himself on one elbow and said, "Have you decided yet? Whether or not you want to keep your memories?"

Akihiko stayed quiet for a long time before answering. "I'm not completely sure…but I think I want to stay like I am. I want to fight."

"Then, you think we can win?" A little hope crept into Junpei's voice and he leaned forward. "You think maybe, somehow, it'll still work out…and we'll all live happily ever after?"

"You know there isn't such a thing as a happy ending, right?"

"Wow, that's pretty jaded."

Akihiko stretched and looked up at him unapologetically. "Well, there isn't. What people call a happy ending is really just somebody ending the story in time, that's all."

Junpei knit his brow. "…eh? That's a little confusing."

Fast Forward. Fast Forward.

She calls sometimes. They never got back together after Minato died. He hadn't expected them to. She did come to visit once, unannounced. He pretended to be asleep when she left in the cold hour before dawn, because he knew she wanted him to be asleep. The way she leaned down and kissed his forehead was the same.

He sees Junpei sometimes on the television. He drinks quietly and watches him swing, that swing that impressed him a long time ago. He still boxes, mostly underground. He uses the name Aragaki. It's as good as any other name.

When he boxes, he feels alive.

Rewind.

"Well…eventually, everything goes away. People die or they change. But if you pick one good moment, a moment like this maybe, and end the story, it'd still be a happy ending. You just have to stop the story in time." Akihiko paused, feeling like he'd been rambling. He didn't normally talk so much.

Junpei looked down at him. He shifted a little and said quietly, "Would you end the story now…here?"

Akihiko wasn't the kind to say embarrassing or touching things during moments like this. He unconsciously dug his fingertips into Junpei's arm as he looked to the side and said, "Maybe."

Stop.