What pisses me off about Junjou Romantica is that some things are just very unclear. Such as why Akihiko thinks he'll hurt Misaki or why his father thinks Misaki is a troublesome existence and shouldn't be with his son? Well, I've come up with some of my own theories and made them into a story. Akihiko's past is extremely dark in this story.

Not everything in the story will match the real storyline or facts in the story. Get over it. It's a work of FICTION.

And if you like rock music, each chapter is a song! And the whole story is based on the song My Demons by Starset. You should look up the songs if you don't know them. It'll greatly enhance your reading experience!

Chapter 1: Remember Everything - Five Finger Death Punch

I woke up from my reoccurring nightmare drenched in sweat. My heart was pounding even as the adrenaline left my body. It took several minutes for my breathing to even out. The images in my head were still so vivid, even though the dream was over.

It was 10 years ago. Why can't I forget?

It's all over. It's in the past. Nothing can change what has happened. It's time to move forward. I've learned from this and it has made me a better person. I have to forget.

I knew I had to get my mind off the nightmare, so I imagined myself with the love of my life, Takahashi Takahiro. I imagined us walking hand in hand down the street. His hand was warm and he had the biggest smile on his face. I turned to him to tell him that I love him.

Suddenly, the scene changed, drastically. We were in bed, making love. He was lying below me, looking up into my eyes. His own eyes were full of lust and passion. The picture of us making love felt so real that I was getting hard.

Dream Takahiro arched his back in pleasure. "I love you, Usagi," he moaned, using my nickname he has given me years ago.

The image shattered after that, as it normally does whenever I daydream about him. I'm still not sure why I can't imagine anything past his confession to me. Maybe the reasonable part of my mind shuts the whole thing down because it knows that it will never happen.

At least my mind is no longer on the past.

I got out of bed and took a quick, cold shower. I changed into a light gray suit and black tie with bears on it. My entire wardrobe consists of suits and ties. I have to look nice for the public, mostly because my editor would kill me if I looked bad. I also enjoy living a sophisticated and wealthy lifestyle. It's what I grew up with.

I am the youngest heir to the Usami cooperation. My whole family is rich. I grew up in England until I was 10. I then lived in a mansion in rural Japan with my mother, father, and older half-brother. Of course, various maids and butlers also lived with us. I never bothered to learn their names, except for Tanaka-san. He was a nice guy who left me alone.

Because of coming from such a wealthy family I never really got to live a normal childhood with toys and playing with other children. So I started collecting when I moved out on my own at age 18. I have hundreds of stuffed bears. Bears are my favorite animal: strong and menacing, yet cute and fluffy. I also like stuffed rabbits (hence Takahiro's nickname for me) and toy trains. My penthouse looks refined, but there are several rooms devoted to toys and other childish things that my family never gave me.

I have never gotten along with my family. My mother ignored me, my brother (who wasn't her son), and my father. She loved living the lifestyle of the rich and the famous. She's the one who made us all live in England when she married my father. She caused all the trouble, I guess you could say. My father brought me and my brother back to Japan once they got a divorce, but all he talked about was me helping take over the company with my brother one day.

And my brother… I don't even want to think about him today.

Anyways, my biggest passion has always been writing. My senpai in England was always reading. I wanted to be just like him, so I would read all the time as well. I began creating my own stories as soon as I could write. Senpai told me I had a gift for writing, so I kept doing it.

I fell in love with how somebody could create vast worlds of characters using just words: nothing but squiggles on paper that people interpret and draw meaning from. Words, books; they're just scribbles on paper. Wars have been fought over books. Blood has been shed over words. They cause so much chaos and elicit deep emotion. The pen isn't just mightier than the sword: the pen becomes the sword.

I became the sword.

My first novel was published when I was 17, thanks to a good friend of my brother who is now the director of the publishing agency that publishes my work. It received remarkable reviews and soon I was swimming in money, so to speak. I continued writing best-selling novels and got to work with some challenging editors. Deadlines seem to be my ultimate downfall. At least my editor now helps me get my boys love novels published.

On an even more exciting note, just last month I won the prestigious Naomori Award for my latest novel. What makes that even more exciting is that I was the youngest ever to receive that award. I was so incredibly honored to win, but mostly I just wanted to rub it in my family's faces. I thought they'd finally see that writing is my true calling and leave me alone.

Suddenly my phone began to ring, pulling me out of my thoughts. I took my time walking downstairs to the phone. It was probably just Aikawa-san, my editor, bitching about me getting the draft of my newest novel done before the deadline. I wish she'd just learn that artwork takes time.

I picked up the phone by maybe the 7th ring. "Yes?"

There was a short pause. "Akihiko." The familiar voice was harsh. Just hearing him brought bile up into my mouth. "How are you?"

Like he cares how I feel. "Fine. Why are you calling?" I don't even try to hide the annoyance in my voice. I don't want to be civil with him.

He sighed. "Straight to point, Akihiko. Fine. I want you to come back home and-"

"No," I interrupted. No way in hell was I going home. "I'm 28 years old and an extremely successful author. There's no need for me to work in the family business."

"It's what father wants, Akihiko."

My hand was squeezing the phone so tightly that I thought it might break. "You can handle running the company by yourself when he retires."

He sighed again. "Akihiko… I'll be honest with you now."

Why is he saying now? My brother has always been one to speak his mind anyways, especially to me and about me. He never had a problem telling me and my mother and father how much he hated me. He never had any trouble making my life miserable and taking everything away from me.

"Winning that award was huge for you, especially since you're the youngest person ever to win it. You're only going to get more famous now. You're going to attract a lot more attention. People are going to start snooping around in not only your present life, but also your past life."

My blood ran cold as he said that. Memories of the dream I had rushed to my head. I felt weak and empty inside. I remembered everything. I remembered it all within the span of a few seconds before my brother spoke again.

"Akihiko, we can protect you if you come to the company. I know things won't go well if word gets out. Our father will make sure you'll be safe if you just work for him."

I knew it was true. My father is so rich he can make anything happen. He would protect me… protect us. But I can't work for him. I want to live my life and make it all worthwhile. I don't want to be tied down in his company and not work for myself. Besides, writing is my one true passion. It's the only thing I'm good at.

"No," was all I said before I hung up the phone and unplugged the cord from the wall.

Before I could do anything else the doorbell rang. I smiled. Takahiro was here. Everything that happened that day, from the nightmare to the phone call, disappeared when I thought about spending some time with my love. Just being close to him gave me comfort and happiness.

When I walked over and opened the door, Takahiro did not look very happy. His brow was furrowed over his gray eyes and the lovely smile he normally wore was missing. He was looking down at a piece of paper.

"Takahiro?" I asked. "What is it? What's the matter?"

He looked up at me, sighing. "Usagi, I'm not sure what to do."

I stepped out of the entryway and let him through. He took off his shoes and made his way to the couch. He has been in my penthouse suite so many times now that he knows where everything is. It's practically a second home to him. I wish he would just live here with me already.

"It's about Misaki," he said as I sat down on the other end of the couch.

Oh yeah… I forgot about his little brother. That kid means the world to Takahiro. He's the only family he's got. Their parents died in a tragic car accident 10 years ago; around the time a great tragedy happened to me as well. I guess that's what drew Takahiro and I closer together. I understood the pain he was going through and I was able to calm him down.

He was already 18 when his parents died. His brother was only 8. He probably would have gone into foster care if it wasn't for Takahiro. He stepped up and said he would take care of Misaki. It was hard watching him being thrust into parenthood like that. It was hard for him to adjust at first, but he got the hang of it quickly and the two brothers became best friends. In fact, Misaki is all he ever talks about. It's like he's a real father after all.

"Ah, yes," I said, feigning interest. "How is he doing?"

He handed me the piece of paper, sighing. "Not good."

The paper was actually a book report. It was only one paragraph long. Just three sentences. It wasn't a paper. It wasn't even a book report! All it said was that the book was super, it made him feel touched, and that he could have never written that. Obviously he could never write a book judging from this terrible homework assignment. I couldn't help but groan.

Is this kid some sort of idiot? Why is Takahiro praising him all the time?

"Uhh…"

Takahiro sighed again, leaning his head back. "He has D's in all his classes. He's a bright kid, he really is, but he just doesn't do well on test or homework assignments or anything school related really. He's taken two practice college entrance exams and received D's for every college both times. I've tried helping him but he doesn't seem to be getting any better in school."

Seriously? This idiot is the kid that Takahiro talks about non-stop and thinks is the greatest?!

"Has he always done poorly in school?" I asked.

"Yes. I guess I'm just not a good teacher."

I wasn't sure what to say. Luckily, I didn't have to say anything because at that moment he shot forward. His eyes beamed and his mouth hung open in a smile. I could almost see a light bulb click on above his head. I definitely was not expecting the idea that he had come up with.

"I know! Usagi, please tutor Misaki for me!"

Tutor… The word brought bile back up into my throat. My stomach twisted into a knot. The memories flashed in my mind again. I remembered everything…

Takahiro must not have noticed the turmoil I was in. He kept smiling and looking up at me with pleading, yet happy eyes. His hands were clasped together and I thought he might actually get down on his knees on the floor to beg.

"I know you can help him, Usagi! You graduated at the top of your class at T University! You just won the Naomori Award! You're the smartest person I know. Can't you please tutor my brother?"

He looked so incredibly cute when he begged. How could I say no to the love of my life? I swallowed my pride, and the disgusting taste in my mouth, and smiled at him. I nodded slowly, which made him beam even brighter with happiness.

"Okay, I'll tutor him," I said, nearly choking on the word. "But of course I'll have to get compensated for my troubles."

"Name your price!"

I smirked. "Your homemade miso pork soup. That's all I want. I'll be happy to help you out, Takahiro."

I had never seen the man so grateful before. He hugged me tight. It took all of my restraint not to touch him or kiss him. Luckily, he pulled away before I lost all self-control. He left, promising to be in touch to set up a date when I could meet the boy I would tutor.

Tutor…

Once Takahiro was gone, I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. The past gnawed at my brain and begged me to think about it. I fed the memories whiskey to keep them at bay. They retreated, leaving me with a numb feeling all over in my body as well as my brain. Before I knew it, the whole bottle was empty and I was falling into a dreamless slumber.