I always wanted to write something about Ikuto and Aruto meeting again, but I've never been quite sure how to put it together ^^''' With things like this I just start writing and can't seem to stop, so blame any OOCness or anything bad on that. Also I'be never written anything particularly happy about the Tsukiyomi family, so it's weird to do something positive involving them.

The cold winter wind whipped at the young man's navy blue hair, sending chills up his spine. He gripped his jacket closer to his body and pulled the hood closer to his neck in an attempt to keep warm.

Feeling a little more comfortable, Ikuto reached for the strap over his shoulder and held onto it tightly. The violin case on his back felt like it was slipping. He was perfectly aware that the instrument was quite safe in its casing, but he didn't want to take any chances. That violin was precious.

Reassuring himself that his violin was safe enough, he continued to walk through the town, his mind completely devoid of thoughts. His feet seemed to lead the way, taking him wherever they felt like. But he didn't mind. He preferred it that way and just waited to see where he'd end up.

He walked slowly and titled his was up to the sky. It was a peaceful sky. In the early hours of a new day it was still fairly dark. The heavens were a darkish sky blue in colour, but there were distinct orange and pink splashes here and there near the horizon that told him the sun would soon rise.

Sighing to himself, he watched as the small cloud of mist created by his breath rose upwards, floating and eventually dissipating into the air. It looked peculiar as if it were one of the many thin clouds appearing in the foreign sky.

He chuckled slightly. 'Foreign sky'. That was an odd thought. He was on a different part of the Earth to everyone he knew and loved, but the sky they stood under, the one he looked up at right now... it was really the same one, wasn't it?

The thought occurred to him that the reason he was here, his father, was also living under the same one as well.

Finding his dad was just as bigger task as he'd expected. For the last few months Ikuto had been wandering the European continent in search of the elusive violinist with no luck so far. France, Italy, Germany and Austria hadn't gotten him any closer. In fact whilst he was in Germany he'd heard a rumour from someone he knew that his father was in France and so he'd gone all the way back for a second search there. But still nothing.

Right now Ikuto was in Luxembourg, Belgium in a small town and had been staying there for a few days now. It was... pleasant to put it simply. There was nothing he overly loved about it, but there wasn't anything he particularly disliked there either. Well, except maybe the inn he was nearing.

Honestly, it was, what? Almost five in the morning? And still there were a few rowdy folk in there chugging down the drink and singing drunkenly. Oh and loudly. Very, very loudly. He could hear them from the end of the street.

Ikuto shook his head to himself. What was keeping these people in there in the such early hours of the morning? Why was the please still even open? To accommodate travellers at whatever time they arrived he suspected, but this was a bit much. It wasn't even travellers who were in there; most of them were locals who didn't have to go to work during the day. Never would Ikuto let him self get caught up with that crowd. Never. He wasn't a lover of alcohol anyway, so that was enough to keep him at a distance, and even if he did he wouldn't be too keen to doing so at almost five in the bloody morning.

He shook it off. This was a regular thing around here and he'd be leaving the town soon. No need to get worked up about it. Instead of listening to them, Ikuto tuned out the sound of the drunks indoors and continued on his way to who knows where.

He'd begun to think of where his next destination would be in his search for his father when he felt his shoulder bump into something. Hard.

Whipping his head round, he noticed that the entrance to the noisy inn was just closing, the light that pooled from the gap in the door shrinking into nothing. He also noticed a tall figure stumbling. It didn't take more than a second to realise he'd walked into something.

Having to take a moment to remember what language the town spoke (he was fairly sure it was German), he apologise quickly.

"Es tut-"

Ikuto stopped halfway through his apology. As did his heart.

His dark eyes widened and he allowed his jaw to drop open as he stared at the 'stranger' in the street.

There stood less than a metre away from him was a man with midnight blue hair similar, yet a little longer, to his own. He recognised the rich sapphire eyes that with so many hues almost resembled a galaxy and the lightly tanned skin that seemed to glow in the faint light from the windows nearby.

Ikuto didn't have to think twice to figure out who this person was. If the unusual eye and hair colour didn't make it obvious then the facial features certainly did. The strong jaw, slightly pointed nose and the perfect cheekbones were very much alike to the ones Ikuto saw in the mirror almost every morning.

"I-Ikuto?"

His expression nearly identical to his son's, Aruto struggled to speak. His voice was a whisper only just louder than his breathing.

"Ikuto? A-Are you..?"

Nothing was said for a few seconds. The only noises audible were the ones from the bar at the inn and their own steady breathing.

Eventually Ikuto managed to get a few small words out of his throat which had become very dry. It was so dry he was afraid his voice would falter and there was an uncomfortable lump beginning to form.

"Father..."

Unfortunately for Ikuto, he didn't get past one word without his voice wavering a little. It was already becoming increasingly difficult already to keep his composure. So many years he'd wanted to talk to his father even if it was just to give him a piece of his mind, but when the one and only Tsukiyomi Aruto was actually stood there he wasn't quite sure how to act.

How should he speak? Should he yell? Should he just come out and say what a horrible father he's been for the last ten or so years? Should he say hello? Should he pour out his emotions that had built up in the absence of this important father figure?

"Father... You're-"

Aruto was quick to interrupt his son who he was positive was equally as shocked and as nervous as him.

"Ikuto, what are you doing here?"

Ikuto had to take a moment to process these words. Just hearing his father's voice was strange to him after all this time.

"I came..." He contemplated what to say. "I was looking..." Was it okay to admit he was searching for him? Was that out of his character? "I was looking for you. Mother, Utau... they miss you."

"Oh..." Aruto whispered. "Is that so?"

Ikuto once more couldn't find his voice, so he settled for a small nod and looked down, unsure of how to continue.

By the time he raised his head again Aruto had moved closer. He stepped back in surprise. His father had come quite close.

At this close proximity he noticed that the older man's eyes had lit up. That galaxy seemed to shine all on its own under his dark hair. A smile tugged at his lips as he set eyes on his son for what was the first time in years. Too many years.

"Ikuto."

And then without warning the young man found himself being wrapped into a warm, welcoming embrace. It was strange. It was a feeling he recognised from years ago and all of a sudden past images began to appear in his brain. He remembered as a child being held by his dad like this back when everything was okay.

Despite this sudden feeling of nostalgia and the urge to return the hug, Ikuto's body still tensed up.

Aruto must have sensed this as he loosened his grip and pulled back, but still appeared completely content.

"You've grown." He told him. This time he'd managed to speak a little louder, but it just wasn't possible to miss the pain it held. As fondly as he viewed his child it wasn't enough to hide the despair it had caused him to leave behind his family.

Ikuto's response was bitter, as cold as the winter air that surrounded them. "That's what happens when you leave your children behind for ten years."

That sentence felt like a stab in the heart to the older violinist and he let go of his son completely. His voice threatening to start shaking, he shook his head and looked Ikuto in the eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said, his facial expression alone showing the honesty of his apology. "I'm so sorry. Ikuto, I understand how badly you must think of me. I've made the wort decision of my life. It's something I can never make up for."

"I don't wanna hear that." Ikuto sighed heavily.

Confused, Aruto raised an eyebrow waited for him to continue.

"I don't care right now! You can save your apologies for later! I came here to find you which I did. Now I need to know: are you coming back to see your family or not?" There was a moment of stunned silence on Aruto's part before he added, "And if you're worried about getting back then you should know that Easter's no longer a threat to you."

It sounded a little more forceful than he intended to, but he seemed to have gotten his point across. Aruto's pained expression from earlier had vanished entirely and now he let himself smile, a thing he didn't do often anymore.

It was then that he pulled his son in for another, tighter hug which, to Aruto's surprise, was returned as Ikuto momentarily let go of whatever resentment he held towards his dad.

It was cliché, but his reunion with his long-lost father left him wondering if that feeling loneliness that he had lived with for most of his life was beginning to disappear. That feeling had become horribly familiar to him ever since his family had faced its troubles and since then it had been growing as Easter began to meddle in his life.

But now, as he was freed from the company's chains and as he came into contact again with one of the most important people in his life, it was as though his wounds were beginning to mend. After all, everything had cut him deep. His father leaving, his mother's illness, his cruel stepfather and the work he had been forced into. They all left him with scars that he hadn't known how to heal, but now it was different. His mother wanted nothing to do with Kazuomi and encouraged him to go and look for her husband, his work at Easter was over and his stepfather had turned out to never have married his mother in the first place.

And now he was stood in a cold, empty street in Europe in the same town, in the same street, on the same continent, under the same sky as his father and was willing to give him a second chance after all their time of separation.

It was a while before either of them broke the hug. In the end Aruto reluctantly released his son from his grip, but placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're a fine young man now you know, Ikuto. I assume your sister's grown just as much."

A tiny smile of amusement appeared on his face as he remembered his fiery-tempered little sister. "She has. You'd better come back and see for yourself."

"I plan to." He stated seriously. Then he glanced up at the sign above the inn. "We've got a lot of catching up to do though."

Seeing where Aruto's attention was directed, Ikuto looked the same way and instantly scowled as the drunks still howling away could be heard from outside the building.

Aruto laughed at his expression and shook his blue head. "Come on," his hold on his son's shoulder becoming slightly firmer, "we'll just go inside. No need to join in." When Ikuto didn't come round that easily he sighed, though the humour on his face didn't fade. "Don't worry, they'll be gone shortly."

Making some sort of grumbling noise, Ikuto drew his eyes away from the inn, a sign that he'd give up and allowed his father to lead him into the warm, overly noisily building.