a/n: just wanted to write a oneshot, seeing as i've been neglecting this fandom. also, darker than black is proving difficult to plan, and i'm going through otp withdrawal. so, here's some random fudou/haruna. and, the tenses kinda switch around, so it might be confusing. ish.

disclaimer: don't own ie. do own chocolate.

summary: The fourteen times he saw her and the one time he really looked. – Fudou/Haruna.

of seashells and lavender candles

you must be the change you wish to see

one

The first time Fudou set eyes on Haruna, it was at the Kanto regionals. He had snuck into the enormous stadium and was staring everywhere in awe. He knew he wanted to go to a school like this some day. Some day when he didn't need to feed a suicidal mother, a day when he didn't need to track down a runaway father, a day when he didn't need to scrounge up money to satisfy hungry debt-collectors.

Then the ceiling came crashing down.

He knew of the reputation Teikoku Gakuen had garnered for itself, and so seeing such a dirty trick wasn't surprising. What was a surprise were the looks of astonishment on the Teikoku players.

All but one.

The captain, Kidou Yuuto, remained impassive as ever, his eyes, his secrets, his lies hidden behind those goggles.

Fudou felt a thrill of excitement run through his veins.

He wanted to break the genius gamemaker in the only way he knew how.

He watched that game carefully, making note of any weaknesses, all strengths, and his so-called 'morality'. Psychological warfare was something Fudou excelled at, mind screwing to the ninth degree.

So he watched as the young Raimon manager hurried her way over to the Teikoku captain, and fixed his ankle. Watched as she blinked away tears of happiness. Watched as he gave a gentle smile.

Everyone had a price.

Otonashi Haruna was his.

two

It was the Soccer Frontier finals by the time he saw his pawn again. This time, he examined her more thoroughly, ignoring the rest of the game and the tinny commenter's voice. Even as the TV screen flickered on and off, he studied her dark blue – who'd ever heard of blue hair? – hair, most likely dyed. He stared into her huge blue – almost purple – eyes and saw the fear and hope glimmering there.

Before he could watch her reactions, or see the end of the game, the screen shut off and Fudou stood up tiredly, knowing that the electricity bill hadn't been paid that month.

But images of the blue-haired beauty haunted his dreams at night, her mouth always mouthing two words, over and over.

Why me?

It was then that he changed his plan yet again.

three

A month later and Fudou was nowhere near accomplishing what he had set out to do. The bills were piling up, one after the other, the debt-collectors hinted at even more taxes and his mother was in the hospital yet again, this time because she had OD'd on sleeping pills.

Fudou had held the empty bottle of his sleeping pills, the one luxury he splurged on, trying to get enough sleep so he could get to school on time, get good grades, become somebody – somebody his mother could be proud of – and shook, his trembling hands grasping the empty bottle like a lifeline, a single tear running down his face.

He sold the house to pay for her hospital bills. That night was the first night he slept on the streets.

He skipped school for nearly two weeks, working at back-breaking labor and going to school in the dead of night to pick up the classwork he had missed.

It was then that he found the Aliea meteorite.

The power he held in his hands was unimaginable, the desire to be somebody rushing through his body.

He put it on, hacked into a police database, freed Kageyama, persuaded Sakuma and Genda and finally faced Kidou on the soccer field.

The look of surprise on his face was almost worth it.

Almost because of the heart-rending look Haruna had shot Kidou when he attempted to block the full power of Emperor Penguin X.

Almost because of the darkness the Aliea meteorite fed him.

Almost because he nearly killed two of his teammates, almost because he abused his position as a captain, as a leader.

Almost because he had turned to Kageyama for help.

It was after the explosion, when they were taken into police custody, when the injured players of Shin Teikoku were pulled into the waiting ambulances, when the full force of the guilt of what he had done hit him, that he broke.

The police were old friends, thankful to Fudou Akio and his gang of teenagers. Thankful for keeping the streets of a crime-overridden town safe. Thankful for keeping a bunch of violent, aggressive, unstable children working in something productive.

So when he said he needed time alone to think, the officer snapped his cuffs off and let him go, with a sad look on his face.

When he turned back, Haruna's repulsed glare was all he saw.

It was only later that he discovered she was Kidou's sister.

four

Fudou had all but given up on his plan. It had been months since he had slept in a house. Months since he had gone to school at the correct time. Months since his mother looked at him like something other than his father's son.

It had been an extremely tiring time. He would get up, go work at any odd jobs that needed to be done. When it became nightfall, he would join up with the rest of his gang – Anzen, as the townspeople called them – and patrol the streets, breaking up fights, bringing criminals to justice, etc. When dawn broke, he would head over to the small, dilapidated school and catch up on his classwork. He would crash on his couch for an hour, first making sure his mother hadn't killed herself yet, and get up to repeat the whole cycle again.

It was the little things that made Fudou's day, like the white hair dye the gang had saved up money for as his birthday present.

During a bout of particularly nasty fighting, when a gang member from the city came to mess everything up, Fudou and Anzen carefully guarding the people who trusted them to keep them safe – who can I trust to keep me safe? – the old man arrived.

He offered Fudou a proposal he simply couldn't refuse, despite the bravado he put up. Forget the chance to play for the world's best, Fudou was getting a chance to sleep in a real bed, to have company other than scarred and abused orphans, to be taken care of instead of being the one taking care.

Then he realized 'world's best' includes the very same gamemaker he severely pissed off.

And his harpy of a sister.

five

She had cornered him, one day, after practice, warning him that if he ever betrayed or hurt Kidou and Sakuma again, she would personally castrate him.

Fudou was left staring slack-jawed after her and for days afterward, would immediately move to protect his family jewels whenever she was around. He even sniffed his food for poison every time he ate.

But he had kept up the cold, arrogant, cocky demeanor – okay, so the arrogant part was true, so sue me – around everyone. However, four months of constant stress and back-breaking labor, of an hour of sleep a day and patrolling the streets at night was starting to take its toll.

He could tell that the Coach had noticed, and made a show of acting pissed whenever he was delegated to the bench.

Secretly, he was happy. Happy that for once in his life, he could go to sleep at night without a knife in his hand and wake up somewhere other than a dingy alleyway.

He avoided Kidou and Sakuma in practices, mealtimes, and games. Pretending to be an ass was much easier if he did to people he actually was an ass to, not to a gamemaker likely to read through him and the boy whose life he had nearly wrecked. And besides, Fudou was self-reliant – was, is, always would be. He didn't want others' sympathy.

And he did not want his rival finding out everything about him, things he had buried, things he wished to keep behind him.

That's why he always moved forward. Because he was always afraid the past would catch up to him.

Unfortunately, lately it seemed like a certain loud-mouthed blue-eyed manager was getting in his way.

Especially the one time he accidently walked in on her taking a shower.

That was the first time Fudou thought of Haruna as someone other than Kidou's sister.

six

After nearly getting killed by Haruna's vicious tantrum, life fell into a routine. She promised not to tell Kidou about the incident – Fudou liked his face intact, thank you very much – if Fudou promised to help her in her secret passion. Baking.

So Fudou again got up in the middle of the night, this time to help her make whatever other crazy cake she dreamed up, slowly forming a friendship with manager, bonding over flour and eggs and measuring cups and ovens.

Every time one of his teammates complimented her on the desserts she served that day, Haruna met his eye, winked and giggled. Fudou would have a content look – if you scrutinized really hard – on his face the rest of the day.

It was hard to get the reclusive gamemaker to open up to the happy-go-lucky mischievous manager. They had spent one whole week in silence before Haruna finally threw an egg at his head.

- "Are you always so quiet?"

"Are you always such a bitch? –

Aki and Fuyuka walked in that morning to see Fudou and Haruna cleaning the last vestiges of cream off the countertops, both grinning madly. The team didn't have dessert that night.

Slowly, their late-night rendezvous' grew into regular conversations. She told him about the death of her parents and he told her about his good-for-nothing father – it was no use keeping it a secret. Coach Hibiki had blabbed most of his childhood to Kidou – must've gotten it from an Anzen member – and Toramaru was listening. That kid was the biggest gossip this side of the Pacific.

She told him that the scent of lavender always calmed her down, and that her favorite place was on the top of her roof. She told him of the countless candles she had stashed away and how her adoptive parents unsuccessfully tried to get her to buy different aromas.

In return, Fudou had told her about the beach, the place he visited once, when he was two or three, when everything was right with the world, up was up, down was down and black and white were distinct. He showed her the pendant hanging around his neck, the soft patterned seashell, worn with time. The shell he never took off, except when he had worn the Aliea meteorite – another score to settle with Kageyama.

It was one day, after a particularly harsh practice, that he realized how close they were, how lucky he was to have her.

Kudou had been particularly brutal that day, working them to death in the pouring rain and a mud-splattered field. He had faced off against Kidou late in the practice, both of them too exhausted to even exchange taunts as they faced off. He was so exhausted – a good kind of exhausted – that he fell asleep in his muddy clothes, completely forgetting to assist Haruna in her latest culinary masterpiece.

He woke up the next morning, completely refreshed, but cringing at the thought of an angry Haruna, when he saw the cake.

It was in a curious half moon shape, rather like a shell, with patterns of vivid orange and muted yellow, light brown dancing around the edges. It was an exact replica of the shell he wore around his neck, his good-luck charm, his reminder that the world could be kind, sometimes.

He didn't know how she did it. He hadn't ever shown her the shell, ever, but the cake was a copy, down to the small abrasions he had scratched into it to signify it was his. Ignoring her triumphant look, he took a slice of cake that she was offering everyone and finished it in five bites.

"It's terrible," he had said, walking up and depositing the plate in the sink without a glance at her. He could clearly see Kidou's furious glare as the gamemaker tried to stand up, Sakuma holding him back.

He had paused at the door and looked back at her, an inscrutable look in his eyes, "You forgot the lavender."

He left, but he could see Haruna's peals of laughter echoing down the hall after him and he could imagine the looks of confusion on everyone's face.

He had resolved to never miss a baking session again if this is what she did when he wasn't there to supervise her.

Next time, she might even bake a wedding cake.

And put Kidou and him as the bride and groom.

seven

His troubles were far from over though. Kidou had started to – grudgingly – accept him, though Sakuma remained as wary as ever. It was actually the gamemaker himself that suggested they make a hissatsu together, after the success of the last one.

But never had he dreamed that its first match would be against the formidable puppeteer that inspired it.

Contrary to popular belief, Fudou didn't actually hate Kageyama. He hated the fact that he was weak enough to rely on him. He hated the fact that he had convinced Fudou to join his power struggle. He hated that he wasn't confident enough to resist.

So when he had seen a vaguely familiar man stepping out of a limousine into Italy's area, he used the first chance he got to piss Kidou off.

But then he got the call.

- "What do you mean; they're dying?!" –

He had received a report from Anzen, expecting nothing more than the usual, not to hear that five of his best members – his best friends – were in the hospital with dangerous stab wounds. Wounds inflicted by Kageyama's henchmen. They were losing blood, fast and their bills were likely to be astronomic. If the surgeries didn't kill them, the debts would.

Seeing red, Fudou stalked Kageyama across the island, not resting until they had defeated him, Sakuma joining them to create the ultimate hissatsu.

See, he had hissed as he drove his foot onto the ball, reveling in the look of surprise on his face, see how much we have advanced, see how we don't need you, how we never needed you. See how we can take your corruption and purify it. See how we can create life out of your death.

He came back, victorious, seeing the sadness in Haruna's eyes as she looked over his dirt-streaked form. Victorious, but with the hollow pit of guilt sinking in his stomach, the knowledge that revenge hadn't done any good.

All he wanted to do was collapse in her arms; sink into sleep as she murmured soothing words in her gentle voice. But in front of his coach, his team, her brother, all he could do was turn away.

He called Anzen back and tears threatened to choke his throat at the reply. Two had lived. The other three were dead.

He curled up in bed, fighting against the tears, the nightmares, the horrors. He felt a soft presence halfway through the night, the touch relieving some of his fears. He didn't know whether it was a dream, or reality.

But for the lavender candle burning softly on his table.

eight

It was when things were going right, that it went horribly wrong. All because of that damn bracelet Rika had to pick up. Haruna had put it on, and suddenly the world had cracked open, lightning searing the skies, a strange boy appearing out of nowhere and picking the girl – his girl – up and leaving.

Kidou had tried to stop him, but was left with bruised ribs while Fudou could do nothing but stare after the person – demon – that had kidnapped his baking partner.

Swearing revenge – again – Fudou set off with the rest of the team, ready to take on Makai Gundan Z, the army of hell.

They apparently wanted to sacrifice her to the Devil, to bring him back to life but Fudou could care less about their reasons. Channeling his rage into his playing, he focused every thought on the game, the fear and terror in her screams wrenching his heart, his mind overloaded with images of his mother, his friends, his teammates calling to him in those same terrified voices, begging him to save them.

This time, he would.

These demons had obviously picked a bad time to piss off Fudou Akio.

They finally won; Kidou and Fudou, two whirlwinds of rage and destruction on the soccer field. Haruna ran straight into Kidou's arms, staying there until they gently pried her off of him.

Later that night, when the respective coaches, teammates, managers had stopped hovering over her, when Kidou was sound asleep on the chair next to her bed, he slipped inside her room, tying his seashell pendant around her neck, hoping that the charm would bring her peace.

He had placed a soft kiss on her forehead before he left, murmuring words of comfort.

He could've sworn that Kidou's fingers twitched.

It looked like the genius gamemaker wasn't such a sound sleeper, after all.

nine

They had won. Finally defeated Cotarl's Little Gigant. Defeated Endou's grandfather, the former Japan national, the formidable Daisuke himself. Held the shining trophy up in the air to the roar of millions, the chant echoed across the world.

They had finally reached the peak. The world's best.

During the increasing celebrations, in which Fudou was slowly slinking away, getting a headache from the bright lights and loud sounds, the after-effects of insomnia catching up to him, berating him for partying all day and all night, Haruna had found him, quickly dragging him off, saying that she had a surprise.

She had taken him to the beach, where she had spelled out 'Congratulations!' in seashells and lavender candles. It had become something of an inside joke, seeing the flames flicker and the seashells dance.

In the spur of the moment, he kissed her.

- "Wha – what – why – why did you –"

"Shut up," he kissed her again, effectively stopping her incoherent mumblings, "We'll deal with the consequences in the morning."

"You baka, it is morning!" –

They had an enjoyable flight back, enjoying their new status as celebrities. He traded winks and subtle signals with Haruna, poor Kidou looking between them in confusion.

Or at least that's what Fudou thought. He couldn't see the calculating glare behind that tinted glass.

But all was right in the world. They had won the championship and would be returning home as heroes. Kidou and Sakuma seemed to forgive him. He had kissed Haruna. Anzen would finally have enough money to buy the house they were thinking of, a sort of dorm for those who didn't have homes to live in. Maybe his mother would even be at the airport, waiting to receive him with wide-open arms, happy that her son was such a success.

It's when everything is going right that something goes wrong.

They had disembarked the plane to general cheers, Kidou and Haruna running to their Otonashi – Kidou clan/family thing, other players greeting family, friends and fans that had gathered there. Fudou scanned the crowd happily, searching for the light brown hair of his mother.

Imagine his surprise when he saw the green-streaked bangs of Suga, the multiple piercings glinting in the light, the grim look on his face twisted his normally cheerful features.

Fudou's heart had plummeted.

He had hurried over to him, noting the other members of Anzen standing around him, scuffing the ground with their worn shoes, looking somber and sad.

- "What's wrong? What happened?"

Suga looked Fudou in the eyes, "It's your mother." –

What was supposed to be a night of celebrations and happiness quickly turned sour as Fudou got into the waiting cab, going to the hospital, noting with rising hysteria, the number of tubes in his mother. It increased every time she was in here, every time she tried to leave this world behind.

He had barely listened to the doctors telling him that she jumped off a cliff, the nurses advising him to send her to a psychologist – where was the money? – Suga standing beside him and telling him that she had attempted suicide an hour before the finals began.

He held his mother's frail hands and – for the first time – looked at her in disgust. He did everything for her. He held her when his father left. He kept her alive, he fed her every day. He cleaned the streets to keep her safe; he worked odd jobs to pay the debts. He worked hard at school to avoid his father's mistakes. He had won the world championship only to see the approval in her eyes.

He would give his life for her.

But she wouldn't stay alive for him.

ten

Life had fell into a schedule after that. Using the enormous prize money, he bought a house for Anzen, and tasked its members – his brothers, his sisters – in keeping his mother safe after he was discharged from the hospital. He received a scholarship to study in Teikoku Gakuen and accepted it, leaving his small town early in the morning and coming back late at night.

But therein lay the problem.

While the members of Inazuma Japan got over their animosity, partly due to his help in defeating Kageyama, there were still others who bore a grudge.

One Genda Koujirou, in particular.

He had used every chance he got to belittle the arrogant gamemaker, whether it was on the field or in the classroom. However, after fourteen years on the streets, Fudou wouldn't get riled up by petty taunting.

Unfortunately, as much as Kidou was captain on the field, Genda and Jimon were captains off of it.

Jimon wanted no part in the war that was raging within the high walls of his academy, but Genda was adamant. No amount of reasoning by Kidou and Sakuma was going to stop him. He wanted the cocky Shin Teikoku captain on his knees, groveling for forgiveness.

Fudou, in response to this, grew even more cold and withdrawn. He did his best to get good grades and play fairly on the field, despite the mocks and taunts. The highlight of these dark days was the once-a-month visit to Raimon. No one hated him in Raimon, and he was content to sit in the clubhouse and laugh with his former teammates, or bake with Haruna, trying out crazier and crazier recipes.

However, it was the very same relationship with the blue-haired manager that finally triggered Fudou's rage.

It had been a long day, as he woke up to his mother trying to set herself on fire. He had firmly pulled her into the shower and washed the kerosene off, as his mother shrieked at him, calling him a demon and a devil, telling him that he was not her son. His first period was Chemistry, and he had received a paper with a D and a note to tell him to visit the teacher. The next period, Biology, was taught by Genda's aunt, who gave him a detention for stepping into class thirty seconds late. Detention meant he would be late for Anzen's patrol and would have to deal with their dirty looks as well.

So when Genda cornered him in the hallway, calling him good-for-nothing and telling him that he lied and betrayed everyone around him, Fudou gave him and the entire school what they'd all been waiting for.

He lost his temper.

- "Does Kidou know what you're up to? Do you think he'd be so quick to defend you if he knew what you've been doing with his little sister? How exactly did you coax her into even coming near filth like you?" Genda said, eyes narrowing at Fudou's impassive form.

But for him, it was the final straw that broke the camel's back.

"What exactly have I been up to, Genda-senpai?" Fudou spat back, temporarily startling the elder, "Am I recruiting her for a Shin Raimon team? Or perhaps you think I've been sleeping with her?"

"For all I know, you could be," Genda sneered, "You always betray everyone in the end."

Fudou started laughing at the absurdity of the statement, "Name one person – one person, Genda-senpai – who've I've betrayed or tricked. Did I betray you when I blew up the ship we were on? Oh, wait, that was Kageyama. Did I betray you when I faced off against my best friend and his teammates? Wait a minute, that was you."

Genda opened his mouth to respond against Fudou's accusations but Fudou was sick and tired to dealing with people and their complications. They had no idea how he really lived, how the rest of the world worked beyond their limos and fancy uniforms.

"When did I betray anyone? I convinced you to join Shin Teikoku, yes, I freed Kageyama, yes, I nearly succeeded in putting you and Sakuma in the hospital, yes, but who did I lie to? Who did I deceive? Didn't I tell you exactly what we were going to do, the exact consequences it would have on your body? I told you the risks. I persuaded you against them. But I wasn't the one who drove you to hell. In the end, you were free to say no. You said yes."

Fudou continued, unmindful of the people watching them, the students and teachers coming out of their classrooms to stare, stare at the normally levelheaded second-year yelling.

"It was not my choice. I did nothing against you and Sakuma. Kidou, I can understand, but after all I did to him, he still forgave me. Don't you think that's curious? Did you even ask me what would've happened if the game went my way? Do you think I liked watching my teammates get into ambulances? Do you think any captain worth a damn enjoys the sight of his teammates in agony?

"You were the one who betrayed, who lied, who deceived. If you want to blame your crimes on me, get in the fucking line. But don't you ever scorn the people who have actually accepted me!" –

Fudou had stalked away, not hearing the dead silence that met the words he'd been dying to say for weeks, seeing red, the furious look on his face discouraging everyone from drawing close to him. He went directly home, enjoying a few hours of luxury sleep, delighting in playing with the younger members of Anzen, whose childish innocence still had not been washed away.

But he was so very, very tired.

All he wanted to do is sleep and for the first time, he kind of understood where his mother was coming from, trying to leave a world where there was nothing for her. When he mentioned that thought to Suga, along with a casual statement saying that he might be missing school for the next few weeks, his second-in-command grew pale, and immediately rushed off to make a phone call.

One hour later, Haruna had walked in and slapped him so hard he saw stars. She started yelling at him, screaming about how he couldn't give up and what his mother – his sane loving mother – would've thought if she saw him like this. She scolded and shrieked and screeched at him, until her voice grew hoarse and the afternoon light had long given way to twilight shadows.

Fudou merely blinked and stared.

Finally, at the end of her tirade, she had collapsed in Fudou's arms, clutching him and sobbing.

- "Will you leave me? Just like that?" –

He had awkwardly put his hands around her as his shirt grew wet from her tears, trying to calm her down, murmuring reassuring words as the shadows grew longer and finally disappeared. How long they had sat there, half kneeling on the ground, arms entwined, each supporting the other in the only way they knew how, was something he did not know, but when he looked up again, it was morning, and Haruna was fast asleep in his arms.

He had thought he'd seen his mother standing in the doorway, an approving smile on her face. But when he blinked, she was gone.

Unfortunately, Haruna couldn't be pacified with just one screaming session.

After she had woken up, Fudou had started freaking out, wondering what her parents – who seemed to like him, if only it was for the fact that their daughter was supervised in her culinary endeavors – and, more importantly, her brother would say when Haruna came home at that time in the morning.

The aforementioned girl, however, seemed to be likely to send him to an early grave.

She had insisted on accompanying him to Teikoku, and innocently suggested that she would get a ride home from her brother. Kidou's reaction when he saw her, though, was not something Fudou wanted to envision.

Finally, he had relented; tired of her banshee screeching and Haruna took the subway into Teikoku, an evil grin on her face the entire ride.

She had skipped through the imposing metal gates and set off through the hallways, humming a cheerful tune under her breath as students stopped and stared at the blue-haired girl in a rumpled Raimon uniform.

- "Fudou," a dark, murderous voice was heard, "Why the fuck is my sister here?" –

Fudou had massaged his temples as he glared at the pint-sized blue whirlwind that he had the misfortune of taking an interest in, nearly a year ago.

She had skipped right up to Genda and tilted her head to one side, smiled, and neatly punched him in the face, breaking his nose while she was at it.

- "Taking my brother wasn't enough; you have to steal my boyfriend as well?" –

Fudou had frozen and very steadfastly ignored Kidou's suddenly homicidal glare burning a hole through his shirt.

eleven

After weeks of whispered death threats and murderous glares, Kidou had finally acquiesced to Fudou, unwillingly agreeing to let him date his little sister.

It was pretty difficult to argue with Haruna when she had her puppy-dog eyes open wide.

He had left a bewildered Fudou a list of what his sister liked, the unspoken 'if you ever hurt her' lying like the elephant in the room.

Surprisingly, Genda had slowly accepted the gamemaker, though Fudou suspected Haruna's involvement in that as well.

Things were going smoothly, or as smoothly as things could go with a mother who hadn't attempted suicide in days and a girlfriend who delighted in giving him heart attacks, and school which still sorta kinda maybe hated him.

But Fudou knew better.

He had kept an increased watch on his mother, inwardly panicking when even a butter knife was passed into her possession. He had watched Haruna with the eye of a hawk, coddling her so much that she was beginning to get irritated. He had patrolled longer and longer each night, watching the streets with increasing paranoia. When he finally collapsed in his bed, even sleep had eluded him as he thought of all his enemies, why they would want revenge. He dreamt of Kageyama rising from the grave, of Garshield landing in his over-the-top plane.

He was so stressed out, like a tightened string, scanning, analyzing, watching every second of every day that when his father showed up on his doorstep one day, out of the blue, he immediately slugged him across the face.

Most of the Anzen members were out that afternoon, Suga telling him to relax for once. Fudou had been almost alone, with only his mother and the youngest kids for company. So when the doorbell had rung, Fudou, more paranoid than ever, opened the door with a knife in one hand and a gun in arm's reach.

When he had seen his sainted father standing at the doorstep in a shiny tux a size too small, a tie that seemed to be choking his neck, with a black briefcase in one hand, Fudou didn't think, he reacted.

It was only when his father was on the ground, holding a hand to his now-broken nose, shock written across his features that Fudou fully took in the situation. There was a fancy black car behind him, two bulky men in black suits and sunglasses sitting in the front seats. His suit was Armani and the briefcase was embossed leather.

His father had left them in a taxi, wearing rags. He had come back in a limo, wearing silk.

- "What in fuck's name do you want?

"That's no way to speak to your father. A son should learn some manners."

"I don't have a father and I'm certainly no son of yours."

"Such rudeness. You must've got it from your mother."

"I don't have much time and I don't waste it on scum like you. But since your ears are too used to hearing simpers and flatters, I'll repeat myself. What in fuck's name do you want?"

"What does any father want, Aoi? I want to be a family again. I got a new job, and you and your mother can come live in the city. Wear fine clothes; get out of this crime-ridden town. You can even tell me about that little tournament you were in, with that soccer of yours."

"My name is Akio." –

He had listened to his father, his temper rising with every word. After Fudou Takumi had finished, waiting for his son's immediate approval, Fudou laughed, telling his father that the one thing he remembered listening to was his father's long-ago words of caution.

- "Don't accept candy from strangers." –

He had taken his knife and shoved it in Takumi's throat, stopping just short of actually killing him. With his father's fear-ridden eyes looking in Fudou's cruel ones, he stated, once again, that he didn't have a father and told him exactly where he could stuff his proposal.

It was then that the shit hit the fan.

He had heard a gasp from the opposite end of the street and knew, without looking, that Haruna and Kidou where standing there. Suga with half of Anzen turned the corner and he knew, also without looking, that they'd beat his father black and blue if he'd given half a chance.

It was rare that people like them got a chance for vengeance – a chance for retribution against abusive fathers and druggie mothers, against corrupt cops and local gangs, against the world breaking them, piece by piece.

But Fudou had controlled the anger, noting with vindictive satisfaction that this man deserved nothing.

Hate and love were the same things, just under different circumstances. But this pathetic cockroach of a man deserved nobody.

Fudou had planted a foot on his chest and kicked him away, turning around and going back up to the front porch. He had paused at the front door, and called back, warning this man who masqueraded as his father, of the consequences that awaited him if he dared step back in this town.

The true opposite of both love and hate was uncaring, cold, emotionless apathy.

And that was all Fudou gave.

twelve

He hadn't noticed his mother standing in the window on the second floor, staring down at the situation. He hadn't noticed the tear stains on her cheeks as her heart yearned for a man yet again out of reach.

Out of reach because of her son.

He hadn't even noticed the blood leaking out of his mother's room.

It had been Haruna who screamed, Haruna who sank to a limbless pile on the floor, Haruna who saw his mother drowning in a pool of her own blood.

Haruna who dialed for the ambulance with trembling fingers and stuttered into the phone, her eyes never leaving the pale skin, and the crimson liquid that coated it.

It had been Haruna who pressed cloth onto his mother's wounds, trying, desperately, to keep her alive, to keep the blood flowing in her veins.

It had been Haruna they found waiting outside the ICU, staring at the walls, shaking so hard and looking so frail that Fudou thought she would snap in his arms. He had held her, comforting her, as her breathing eased, as her fingers stopped trembling, as some color reached her cheeks, the haunted look slowly leaving her eyes.

He knew she wouldn't ever truly recover of seeing a body like that, a life thrown away so unceremoniously, a mother unwilling to bear her son, a woman in so much pain that she'd rather kill herself then live to see a new day.

He hadn't recovered the first time he saw his mother, drifting, clammy and pale, in the neighborhood lake. He still had nightmares of her bloated lips. He hadn't told Haruna about his mother for this very reason.

They say Death changes a person.

But watching someone teeter on the edge of oblivion, watching as your words and actions have no effect, watching as they take the steps to jump, watching and waiting –

That would break someone. Sometimes send them over the edge themselves. Fudou was lucky that his six-year-old self gave himself a goal, to work hard and make his mother proud, to make her happy enough to live.

But his goal was crumbling in front of his eyes and the only thing Fudou could hold on to was the blue-haired, blue-eyed spitfire sleeping in his arms.

Was it enough?

thirteen

By the time Fudou reached his sophomore year of high school, his life had become 'normal' as in the rich kids' terms. He had finally consulted for a psychiatrist for his mother, using Kidou's vast wealth and connections to do so. He sent the Anzen kids off to various fancy boarding schools across the country, most of them thrilled at the opportunity. He begged, pleaded and bribed half of Japan to ensure that his brothers and sisters were financially secure.

Fudou had no place for pride.

He didn't think anything of taking Kidou's offered money and Haruna's offered gifts. He didn't lose any sleep over getting on his knees and entreating for favors. At least, it didn't bother him by day, but at night, while he lay awake, his chest burned, tears coming at how he accepted money so easily, how he tied himself to so many people without a care.

If his father's debts had taught him one thing, it was accountability. Whether the debt was on paper or in blood, whether it was a favor or a promise, Fudou knew he owed these people something.

He owed them things he couldn't give.

But his opportunity finally came when six gang members decided to bomb an influential hospital in the middle of downtown Tokyo.

It had been an ordinary day. But if Fudou's past had taught him anything, it was that the most ordinary of days had a tendency to end in blood and death.

He, Kidou and Haruna had taken a trip to Tokyo General Hospital, to visit Sakuma, who had twisted his ankle in the last match. Haruna had bought him a bouquet of flowers and magazines to cheer him up, and Fudou and Kidou cracked jokes about what had happened the last time Sakuma was in the hospital, of the Aliea meteorite and Shin Teikoku.

Fudou supposed it was a mark of how much they'd improved, how they had cleansed their past, that they were able to talk of something so scarring with so much humor.

Also, as Tokyo General Hospital was a breeding ground for movie stars, politicians and various other celebrities, Sakuma exchanged gossip that he had heard the nurses talking about.

Fudou ignored it, for the most part, irritated by the rich and their flippant attitudes to life. However, there was one piece of information that caught his attention.

- "You know Kenzaki Mizuki? The leader of Kenzaki Corps? The one who's dabbled in double-dealing and blackmail? He's here, in this hospital, guarded by half the mafia, looks like." –

Fudou remembered Suga – who, at 18, had joined the Tokyo PD – mentioning something about Kenzaki. Apparently, there had been several attempts on his life, and numerous death threats. Suga had been complaining because they were forced to protect Kenzaki's life, even though he was also one of the bad guys. Unlike the strict black and white of Anzen's justice, the police force operated in shades of gray.

Sucked for him.

Fudou had smirked at this thought, reveling in his stress-free life, in the clear distinction between right and wrong, moral and immoral. For the past few years, Anzen had worked in the seedier parts of town, getting rid of prostitution, closing the brothels, one by one, buying the freedom of most of the whores. If Kidou only knew where his money went…

Haruna had sauntered over to him, and asked him what he was grinning about, a saucy smile on her face. He had drifted his eyes to her lips, staring at her lustfully. He probably would've kissed if not for the sound of someone clearing their throat hastily.

After all these years, still Kidou hadn't gotten used to the fact that Fudou, his sworn rival, his fierce enemy, the person that single-handedly managed to turn his friends against him and aid an evil man's rise to power, was dating his supposedly sweet, innocent, kind-hearted younger sister.

Fudou knew a lot of things about Haruna, but sweet and innocent did not feature high on the list.

It was when they were walking back towards the exit, talking of going for ice cream before they left, that the trouble began.

Screams had suddenly rent the air, people panicking, hysteria rising. They had seen nurses and doctors running away from the glass double-doors, a split second before they shattered and gunshots rent the air.

Haruna and Kidou moved into action quickly, their instincts honed by the battles they had fought, helping the children move inside, telling everyone to stay down, watching out for more bullets.

Fudou, however, hadn't bothered with any such caution. He had strolled up to the doors and stepped through the empty frames, his feet crunching the glass shards, the gritty powder sticking to his soles.

The first thing he saw were the six boys standing opposite him. Boys no older then him, dressed up in black jackets and ski masks, playing assassin with .37 guns and sniper rifles. Boys picked off of the streets, starving and fighting to stay alive.

Fudou had snorted. Amateurs.

He had also heard the sirens wailing, the police cordon outside the hospital gates, the officers waiting, assessing the potential hostage situation, not daring to get too close.

The leader of Anzen had no such qualms.

- "What the fuck are you doing?" he sneered, staring at the six. They quickly got into a formation, surrounding him so that his only avenue of escape was inside, back into the hospital, back to endangering the lives of many patients and doctors.

"Get your hands up in the air!" one of them shouted, the gun in his hand shaking, trembling, "Get them up, or I'll shoot!"

Fudou laughed at that, "Shoot? You couldn't shoot a chicken if it was dancing in front of you. You don't have the guts."

"Maybe he doesn't," the leader stepped up, cool, calm, confident, "But I assure you that the rest of us do not share his reservations."

"So you're going to shoot an unarmed person, just like that?" Fudou looked at them, sounding unaffected. He could see the police straining to hear every word they uttered, every step they took on this line between life and death, the dance they twisted on an altar of gore.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to," the voice was just as apathetic as his, "Unless you quietly get out of the way."

"Get out of the way to do what?"

"There is a man named Kenzaki inside that hospital. He's committed many crimes, yet still manages to snare the help of the government. Our employer decided more drastic action should be taken," the boy held up a grenade, a fanatic smile visible through the mask. Fudou realized, with a chill, just how dangerous these people were. "Don't worry. He won't be missed."

"You're planning to blow up the hospital?" It was always his mouth that got him in trouble, Fudou knew that, but this was barbaric, this was evil to the core. Kenzaki may have deserve fire and brimstone and the depths of hell, but to sacrifice so many people…

"You want to kill a building full of innocent people?" Fudou shouted, "A building full of people who are dedicated to saving lives?"

"If they're so dedicated to saving lives, then they'll be able to save their own," another raspy voice sneered, the rest of them joining in with guttural laughter.

The leader stepped up to him, gun level with Fudou's forehead, "It looks like you won't step aside. You seem like the kind of person who'd go to hell's gates to follow justice. Pity you're siding with Kenzaki. You're the kind of person I'd have wanted by my side."

"That's funny," Fudou bit out between clenched teeth, "You're the kind of person I'd hate, at anybody's side." –

The other had never saw the punch coming.

Fudou had knocked him back a good two feet, sending his gun spinning to the pavement. The other five attacked then, punching and kicking, not even bothering to use their guns. Fudou had blocked them all, fighting two or three at once, giving as good as he got. He couldn't evade every attack, however, and even his infamous speed was starting to slow down. Bruises were slowly starting to form, and a kick to the chest had Fudou gasping for air, the knifing pain in his sides warning of broken bones.

There was no way he could win, that was for sure, he only meant to stall, slow them down, wait for the police to get their shit togetherand attack – why aren't they attacking, why are they just standing there?

With the sharpness of pain dulling his perception, Fudou had failed to notice that they still had guns, still had a grenade, still could blow them all sky high.

Haruna had come to stand at the glass doors, watching, horrified, as he was punched, kicked and taunted, watching as he didn't even bother to defend but only went on offense, returning their blows, matching them. Kidou shouted at her, telling her to come back into the relative safety of the hospital, and was on the verge of dragging her back when one of the gunmen broke free from the fight and trained a gun to her head.

The fighting had stopped, but it was only now that Fudou had fear in his eyes, only now in the entire period of time that he had felt honestly, truly, terrified. He watched as the gunman mocked him, pressing the gun into her skull. He saw Haruna, calm and collected, raise a high-heeled foot, and bring it crashing down on his shoe.

The boy howled with pain and pressed the trigger, sloppily aiming for vengeance but Fudou had taken off running before Haruna had even raised her foot, knowing what was happening, hoping, praying, he wasn't too late.

When he felt the searing agony of the bullet lodging itself into his upper arm, relief flooded his body and he finally collapsed, dragging down Haruna with him, lying on top of her like a dead-weight as she struggled to get him off her, protecting her even as consciousness slipped away.

The knifing pain in his ribs had intensified and Fudou howled, black spots dancing across his vision as the leader pressed one booted foot on his ribs, pressing down hard. His lips were mouthing words but Fudou was too lost in his world of torture to care, the only thing going through his mind, the inescapable urge to dive into oblivion. Offhand, he wondered if that was what his mother felt like, every day.

Out of the corner of his peripheral vision he saw Suga standing at the front of the policemen – see? he was already hallucinating – his drawn, pale face showing cold determination. He lifted a gun in a white-knuckled hand and pressed the trigger.

If Fudou thought he had been in pain before, this was ten times worse, an explosion of blood and fire in his ribs, his heart beating to a futile rhythm as he gasped for breath, too much in agony to even scream, to even move, the previously merciful darkness crushing him, setting his lungs on fire.

Then, just as suddenly, the pressure was gone. Fudou had dimly registered Kidou pulling the leader off of him, the boy shrieking in pain as he clutched his shattered knee, Suga shooting the others in the legs as well, incapacitating him, Haruna cradling his head, shouting something he could not hear, the grenade being carefully packed by the bomb squad as the police cordoned off the hospital and restored order in the hospital.

He had time for one last thought – I saved them, I saved them all – before he fell into the waiting arms of the darkness.

fourteen

When he had woken up, it was his mother sitting by his side, his mother cheering him up with hastily-written cards and slowly dying flowers, his mother stroking his hair and crooning a lullaby.

Fudou had been so surprised at this uncharacteristic reversal of their roles that he had asked Haruna whether the strangely cheerful woman really was his mother or a cleverly disguised imposter. Haruna had laughed and told him that his mother had been responding to counseling very well, and would soon be going back home.

Even with her reassuring words, Fudou had still watched with suspicion as his mother laughed and smiled and joked, as she taught the younger kids of Anzen, as she helped him through the duties he had shouldered alone, as she clucked over him like a mother hen, coddling him and his wounds.

He kept waiting for her to pick up the kitchen knife and stab it in her heart.

But, after awhile, as his mother slowly eased him back to full health, as she cooked and cleaned, as she preformed the duties she had neglected as a mother so long, he embraced it, having someone worried about him, a parent, a family.

He had never expected to have a different kind of family so soon.

It had been two weeks after graduation that Haruna came to him, in tears. She slowly, hesitantly explained it to him, shoved doctor's results in his hands and broke down in hysteria, as if that would help. He had not uttered a word, but merely stared at the incomprehensible words, the shock preventing the idea from taking root. When he didn't respond to her urgent pleas, she fled, running like the wind, one arm curling protectively around her stomach.

He had watched her go, silently.

For the next two weeks, Fudou had done nothing but stare at that damning sheet of paper. He refused all food and sustenance, it was only his mother who could force a bowl of soup down his throat. He didn't breathe a word to the others, but took to the roofs, staring at the sky, at the light-blue expanse of day, at the ink-black, star-splattered canvas of night. He didn't sleep, merely dozed off to wake an hour later. He had jilted, torn dreams, dreams where he was running after a little boy – who looked suspiciously like Kogure – or chasing a pretty blue-haired woman. Dreams where he shuttered down, broken, in the face of so many debts, so much money to owe and nowhere to get it from. Dreams in which he heard the woman corrupt the boy, whispering lies in his ears – grow up, be strong, do not turn into your father – and staring at him with hate in her blue eyes.

And then there were the other dreams. Dreams of a woman laughing, chasing a young boy on the beach. Dreams of her lying in his arms, smiling up at him as if he was the most valuable thing on earth. Dreams of the young boy happily skipping through a market, holding hands with him and the woman.

Fudou didn't know which future he feared more. However, it was the present, many of his brothers and sisters were worried about. Not eating, not talking, not sleeping, just staring at the sky, listlessly, and Fudou had won the great honor of calling someone to snap him out of his latest trance.

Haruna hadn't answered her phone, not even once of the many times they'd called her, and Kidou and Sakuma were also blatantly ignoring the calls. So, responsibility fell to his oldest and best friend.

When Fudou had seen Suga walking across the roof in the heat of day, sure-footedly making his way to Fudou's perch, he had wordlessly handed the sheet of paper he had been clutching for the past fortnight.

Suga had took one look at it and narrowed his eyes, uttering the words in so cold a tone that Fudou could've sworn that the world turned to ice.

- "No child should grow up without a father." –

And that was it. End of discussion.

His mother hadn't said a thing when she saw him coming down, Suga by his side, only clucking in disapproval at his dirt-smudged, mud-streaked clothes. Suga gave his silent approval before leaving and his mother gave him a conspiratorial smile, though she did warn him to take a bath first.

After bathing, eating and getting a good night's sleep, Fudou left for Kagami, the best jeweler in town. She was known for her delicate cuts and slyly cheap prices, for turning dusty heirlooms into priceless treasures. In a town with not a lot of money and a whole lot of crime, Kagami was welcome, with her no-nonsense attitude and leniency when it came to money. The woman was young, less than thirty years of age, and, curiously, it had been Anzen to had rescued her from the streets and helped her to achieve her goals.

A major side-effect of Fudou's little gang was that now, after most of its original members had left to make their mark on the world, Fudou had far-reaching connections, connections forged by blood and sweat, by loyalty and love.

Still, Kagami hadn't made it easy for him.

- "Well, well, well," the petite brown-haired woman sneered from behind the counter. She wore her traditional short shorts and tank top, revealing so much more skin than few others beside herself would be comfortable with. Her dragonbone earrings glittered from each ear and the color of the week for the single streak that ran down her spiky hair was neon green. "Never thought the big boss of Anzen would wander into my lil' shop."

"You know what I'm here for." Time was running out, and Fudou didn't waste words.

"Fudou Akio," she said into the air, tasting the name on her tongue before spitting it out like poison, "I believe I owe you a favor."

"It's time to pay up."

"Not so quick, kid," Kagami grinned at him, "We haven't agreed on the price."

Fudou grew weary of the complicated mind games Kagami played. She truly was a master of duplicity, like the mirrors that had given her name. He tore the seashell necklace – which, over time, had softened to a polished jewel, the whites and reds and oranges lending an unusual hue to the shell – from his neck and tossed it on the counter, the shell clinking against the glass.

"Nothing will be enough to repay a life," he said brusquely, "Get me a chain to match that shell."

Kagami took one look at the trinket and smiled, her crooked, devilish grin spreading across her face, "It's about time, kid. You've kept her waiting too long." –

She had agreed to create the necklace and had left Fudou wondering, yet again, how everyone seemed to know so much more about him and his life then he, himself.

But there had been no time for distracting thoughts.

His biggest obstacle was a certain furious gamemaker. The same person to who he had sworn to keep Haruna safe. The same person who knew he had broken his promise.

A person who'd give him the beating he deserved.

Kidou welcomed him with an upper right to the jaw. Fudou stood his ground, not even bothering to block his murderous teammate's punches, not responding to his increasingly louder words, wincing at the mention of how much he had hurt the girl he loved.

When Kidou had finally finished pummeling Fudou within an inch of his life, he stood on his porch, panting, chest heaving with exertion, red eyes showing rage he still hadn't spent. Fudou was lying on the ground, one hand at his bloody nose, the other elbow weakly supporting his torso as he looked up at Kidou with empty grey eyes.

- "Why'd you come here anyway, bastard?" Kidou wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, "After all the damage you'd done, I'd have though you'd sent a repairman instead."

"Hearts can't be repaired, Kidou," was his reply, "They only heal."

"You didn't answer my question," the murderous glare hadn't left his eyes. Offhand, Fudou wondered why Kidou's eyes were red, and Haruna's blue.

"I came for your blessing," Fudou slowly stood up, flinching as the action pulled the bruises he had accumulated, "I cannot ask your permission, it is too late for that. But you are her only family, and your acceptance would mean a lot to her. And to me." –

Kidou had stared at him with incredulous eyes. It had taken the better part of four hours – four hours spent in the luxurious Kidou mansion, with the gamemaker's constant interrogation – to convince him that allowing Fudou to marry Haruna was a good idea.

Once he got his blessing, he went straight to Haruna's, the seashell necklace clutched in his hand. Before she could even say a word in surprise at seeing him on her doorstep, he knelt on one knee and begged for her hand in marriage, pleading with her until she finally interrupted him and squealed a yes, tugging him to his feet and kissing him.

When she had asked him what took him so long, he had joked that it was the prospect of having blue-haired children running about the place, then asking her, twisting a lock of her hair, if it was really blue, or the product of a childhood paint experiment gone wrong. Haruna had chased him around the house for that one.

His insecurities fell away as he ran from her, playfully holding his hands up to stop her assault, seeing a future he had never envisioned, a future with her by his side, a future with his unborn child in her arms.

However, it was only two years later that Fudou finally saw it come true.

fifteen

Haruna had been stressing about the wedding preparations for three months, and, knowing her, would probably be still stressing about it now. Fudou, however, standing at the altar in a black tux with an uncomfortably tight collar, Suga standing at the side as his best man, Sakuma and Genda waiting on the steps as his groomsmen, hadn't worried about it for a second.

Until now.

One-year-old Fudou Aria sat in the front on the groom's side of the hall, her blue hair intricately twisted into a knot by his mother, her grey eyes showing impatience as she fidgeted in her seat, until his mother, seated next to her, whispered something in her. Aria quieted instantly, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Fudou inwardly groaned, wondering what his mother had promised her this time.

Between Kidou – who doted on his niece – and his father – who must've secretly wanted a daughter – to his mother and the Otonashis – thrilled by the prospect of a granddaughter – his baby daughter was extremely spoilt. And that didn't include Suga, and half of Anzen.

But Aria wasn't in the spotlight today.

Fudou nervously wrung his fingers as Yuuka, as flower girl, happily skipped down the aisle. As Aki, Natsumi and Fuyuka walked down the carpet, looking stunning in bridesmaids' dresses of robin egg blue; Genda, Sakuma and Suga waiting to escort them.

And then the song started. The doors opened one last time, revealing Kidou; his goggles removed for once, his red almond eyes scanning the room. And Haruna, on his arm, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a dress of trailing chiffon, of white silk and netted veil. She ascended the steps to the altar, Kidou laying her hand in his. The priest started the sermon, rambling long lists of vows but Fudou didn't hear him. Fudou didn't see the crowd eagerly listening to the priest, the women sighing over Haruna's beautiful dress.

"I do."

"I do."

For the first time, Fudou had eyes only for her.

le fin