And Then, They Fell in Love

A/N: I'm going to put this at the top, because after you read the end of this chapter, you're probably NOT going to want to listen to me blabber forever and a day. Yes, this is a long chapter, and it does have many parts to it. Again, they really could not be expanded upon tons. I am now going to go take a very long break and go see a happy film. All I can say is - I am very, very, very sorry. Please do not kill me, or stop reading the story. Please don't hate me too much - along with writing this chapter/posting it, I had to put my guinea pig to slep last night. In other words, I'm not having the brightest of days. Thank you


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“You did what?”

For the billionth time today, Sara wished she could crawl into a hole and not come out for a week. She clenched Osamu’s hand tight, looking up at him for support. Osamu was staring at his father with a cool gaze. “We got married last night.”

And audible groan went through the adults. Rika buried her head in her hands, while Aoi and Kenji exchanged looks of sheer panic. Sara felt a twinge of remorse for their sake - how do you explain to your friends that while their child was under your care, she eloped with her boyfriend? Sara had indeed put them in a bad position.

Nothing mattered, though. They couldn’t do anything to stop them now. They were graduated, eighteen, and married.

Sara had her husband and her baby. That was all that mattered to her.

Shin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Osamu . . .” He slammed his hand against the wall, cause everyone in the room to jump. “What the hell were you thinking? Maybe that’s it. Maybe you weren’t thinking! Did you two seriously think that this would go over well? ’Let’s just go get married right after graduation.’. We panicked last night when we couldn’t find you two! Do you realize how much you scared us?!”

“We’re sorry we scared you,” Sara said in a small voice. “It was just impulse. Osamu and I have been planning on marriage for a while now, and it just seemed like the right time to get it done. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“We told you we would be gone most of the night.”

“You failed to mention the wedding part of this,” Shin said dryly. “Did you think of Sara’s parents? They’re in America and have no idea what has just happened. Someone’s going to have to call them, and I can assure you they’re not going to be excited and thrilled.”

“I can deal with them, sir.” Sara mumbled.

Shin focused his attention back to Osamu. “Do you even have any idea how this is going to look.”

“Ah-ha!” Osamu exclaimed, pointing a finger at his father. “There it is. Exactly what I was expecting. God forbid, Father, that you consider anything else than appearances. We always have to have the ‘perfect appearance’ because we’re Ichijouji’s. What is that supposed to mean? A family name! We’re not even honorable! Think, Dad. What’ ‘honor’ do we have? Grandmother hates us, Tenshi is gay, I’m schizophrenic, and good God, don’t get me started on Maka! At the very least, he was a pedophile -”

Smack

Osamu’s head jerked to the side suddenly as Shin’s hand came in contact with his cheek. Osamu blinked for a few moments and slowly raised his hand to press against his cheek. Shin straightened.

“I know that our family is not one that can say we are perfect, but this tiny little family of four can say that we at least tried to make a difference in how people look at the Ichijouji’s. Pulling a stunt like this doesn’t help matters any. Osamu, I am not worried only about appearances. I worry about you. You’re my son. My first born. What are you going to do for an home? Or a job? You said you planned to move to America, but where are you going to live? If Sara becomes pregnant, how are you two going to support a baby while going to college and working a job?”

“You and Mom did it.”

His father frowned. “Your mother and I did a lot of things that we regret. We will be the first to tell you that we married far too young, and had you way too early. We weren’t ready, Osamu. It was a lot harder than we thought it would be. I wish I could convince you of that.”

Osamu was silent, his eyes focused on the ground. Sara rested her chin on his shoulder and squeezed his hand again. He took a sharp breath, and met his father’s gaze. “We’ve already made our decision. Sara and I are married, and whether you like it or not, we will be staying that way. You can either help us with this, or you can desert us to make our decisions by ourselves. Which is it going to be?”

Kenji cleared his throat. “I have an idea, if I may, Ichijouji-san?” At Shin’s nod, he continued. “Sara’s room at our apartment is large enough for the two of them right now. Osamu can keep this things here, taking his essentials of course, and the two could move in to our spare bedroom. In the meantime, they can start looking for apartments in the area, or if they’re serious about the move to America, they can wait until Sara is ready to go back home.”

The entire room was silent. Finally, Shin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose once again. “That may be our only solution for now. All we can do is pray it doesn’t crumple beneath us.”


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Osamu frowned at the towel on the bathroom floor, expressing his distaste at the item. “You leave your clothes and towels on the floor?”

“Oh no,” Sara laughed. “This isn’t one of those ‘I need to pick up my towel to make you feel loved’ things is it? And yes, I do, as a matter of fact.”

He rolled his eyes. “It has nothing to do with love. It has to do with cleanliness. How can you stand that?”

With their first week of marriage behind them, Sara found that Shin was right. It was a lot harder than she had originally though. Though she had stayed at the Ichijouji apartment countless times, and had been a part of Osamu’s morning routine, learning to fit them both into their schedules was harder. With only one guest bathroom in the apartment, they found themselves a little cramped. Sara found herself bumping into Osamu as she reached for the toothbrush while he shaved. He complained that she used too much of the hot water in the apartment.

Sara was too messy. Osamu was obsessive-compulsive about cleaning. Needless to say, this was going to be an interesting match for a while.

“I have a confession.”

She’s been reaching down to pick up the towel when Osamu blurted that out. “A confession?”

He nodded. “Yes. You need to know about it.” At her nod, Osamu fiddled with his fingers and leaned against the door frame. “For the past . . . Month or so, I have been having these dreams. Bad dreams. Dreams about something that might possibly happen. I don’t claim to be a psychic, or able to see the future, or whatever, but sometimes things that come to me in dreams come true. When I was about seven, I had a dream about a baby - that was the week Mom found out she was pregnant. When I was fourteen, I had a dream about something snapping - the next day, Ken fell off the swing-set in the park and broke his arm.”

“What is your dream about this time?”

“Death.”

Her stomach twisted painfully. “Death? What kind of death? Yours? Mine? Ken’s?”

“I don’t know,” Osamu shook his head. “The strangest one I had was when I was talking with Maka.” His face twisted into a grimace. “Could have lived without that one. . Although he did apologize to me.” Osamu snorted. “But they’re getting worse. Closer together. I want to figure this out before something does happen.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I have to open for that new Math and Science building they just added on to the college tomorrow afternoon. That should be utterly thrilling. To be on television again. However, Tani called me this afternoon from the States. She said that she should be getting in day after next and wanted to know if she could take us out to eat before she completely died because of jet lag.”

Sara laughed. That sounded exactly like Tani. “Of course. We should make her take us to the most expensive place we could possibly find.”

“Knowing Tani, she’d complain until we died.” Osamu grabbed the towel that rested limply in Sara’s hands and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you. Please, please. No matter whatever happens between us, or whatever my dreams mean . . never, ever forget that.


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Something was poking at her. It took Sara few drowsy moments to realize it was her Osamu‘s finger pressing into her arm. She peeked and eye open to see the clock, and groaned at the time. 3:49 a.m.

“Sara?”

“Osamu?” A little of her sleepiness went away. “What’s the matter?”

“Are you awake enough to have an intelligent conversation, or should I wait for another hour or so for you to wake up a little more?”

She sat up and rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes. “I’m awake. What’s going on? You were tossing and turning a lot.”

Osamu’s arms were around her in an instant, and he buried his head in the crook of her neck. It took Sara a moment to realize that her husband was shaking.

“What’s the matter?” she asked again, rubbing little circles on his back. “Why are you shaking?”

“I had to see you,” Osamu whispered, clinging to her tighter. “I had to see you, Sara. I had to wake you up. I felt as though, if I couldn’t see you now, I wouldn’t be breathing at dawn.” He took a shuddering breath.

Sara pulled away from his grip, and looked him in the eye. “You’re having those dreams again.”

He nodded. “They’re worse. More intense. Something is building, Sara. Something is going to happen and it’s going to be bad. I’m scared. For you. For the baby.”

“The baby and I are fine,” Sara insisted, pulling him closer again. She leaned her head against his chest, feeling him rest his chin against her head. “You need to see someone about these dreams. A doctor, or a psychologist, maybe.”

Osamu tensed. “I’m crazy enough without having someone confirm that further. Diagnosed, remember?”

“You’re ridiculous.” Sara muttered, rolling her eyes. “Do something. For me. For our child. Do something before what you’re scared of happens. Please? If nothing else, he could give you sleeping pills.”

It was Osamu’s turn to roll his eyes. “Hooray for pills. I don’t even take the pills that I’m supposed to take,” he said, continuing their conversation. “Why would I voluntarily take some?” He sighed and pulled her closer, letting her cheek rest against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic.

“This is really scaring you, isn’t it?”

A nod. “I worried at first that it might be Ken. Since we had that fight, we haven’t been on the best of terms. But now. . I feel as though it’s going to be someone closer. It’s going to hit home, and it’s going to hurt. I . . .really don’t know what to do. I wish I could stop it.”

Sara clung to him, her fingers winding tightly into his shirt. “You have me,” she whispered against his neck, placing small kisses as she did so. “And we have each other, and our child. Don’t worry, my love. Everything is going to work out.”

Osamu smiled. “You think so?”

She nodded reassuringly. “I know.”


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The afternoon was hot and muggy, not typical for a spring afternoon. Thousands of students gathered for the opening of the newest building, most of them science or mathematicians, some of them teenage girls hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol from onstage. Sara found her seat about halfway through the crowd, and began scanning it for her husband.

Husband. The word still gave her tingles.

“Sara!”

Itaria and Yukio stood behind her, waving frantically. Well, Itaria waved frantically. Yukio stood emotionless, simply nodding toward Sara. She gave them a smile and turned back toward the stage as the crowd hushed, and Osamu made an entrance.

He looked nice this afternoon. Dressed up in a suit and pants, her husband was the best looking male there (or at least in her opinion). He smiled lightly at the crowd, and began to speak. Although Sara had been living in Japan almost a year, there were still terms that she did not quite understand in the language. What Osamu was talking in now, she did not understand. It didn’t matter. Hearing his voice was the only thing in the world she wanted.

That was when the gunshots broke out.

Someone behind her screamed, and the entire place erupted.

Chaos was the only word that could describe the scene that had unfolded before Sara. She watched in horror from her seat as she saw Osamu crumble where he stood. Someone screamed for help, and before anyone could stop her, Ichijouji Rika was bolting up to the stage.

Sara attempted to push her way through the crowd, but in panic, everyone kept pushing her back. She jumped, hoping that she could see over someone’s head.

“Here miss.” A chair was shoved her way. Sara thanked the man and climbed on top. What she saw made her stomach clench unpleasantly.

Rika was holding Osamu’s head in her lap, stroking the hair back from his eyes. The left side of his head and neck were almost completely covered in blood, and it seemed as though he were trying to curl into a ball. There was another large bloodstain forming on his left side. Osamu muttered something to Rika, who shook her head and kissed his forehead, not seeming to care there was now blood all over her shirt and pants as well.

An ambulance pulled up quickly, and paramedics hopped out of the vehicle, immediately surrounding the Ichijouji’s. They pulled Osamu away from a tentative Rika, who held on to his hand until they strapped on the equipment. Sara didn’t like the way that Osamu’s body looked limp.

Sara caught sight of Yukio in the crowds, and she jumped off her chair and quickly made her way to him. “Yukio!” she cried. “Can you believe what just happened? Who would do something like this?”

Yukio looked at her as if she were crazy. His eyes narrowed, and he glanced up at the stage with a small sneer on his face. As quick as it had appeared, his expression changed to one that looked similar to fear. “I know.” he choked out. “This will . . Certainly make headlines. Excuse me, Sara. I need to go.” He broke away from her and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Sara to stand there.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. She spun around, ready to swing at her attacker. Ichijouji Shin caught her fist in mid-air and pulled her closer, almost into an embrace. Sara wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head into his shoulder, not caring in the least that she was receiving odd glances from those around her. This was her father in law. And a son and husband had been shot. She needed this comfort.

Shin pushed her away, smiled, and ran a thumb under each of Sara’s eyes, wiping away her tears. “Go home for now, Sara. There is nothing that you can do for him. He’s . . . in God’s hands. Always has been, I think. Go home, Sara. We’ll call you when they are letting visitor’s in.


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The hospital smelled. Not the typical smell of antiseptic, or unknown bodily fluids that were not so appealing, but of something completely different. This night, the hospital smelled like death.

It had almost been four hours when Shin called, telling Sara they were allowing visitor’s, but for only a brief period of time. She thanked him, and was out the door in an instant. She hardly remembered the trip between their small apartment and the hospital.

The waiting room was almost completely empty except for the Ichijouji family. Little Ken sat in a corner, pouring over some book he found in the gift shop. Every few seconds he would look from the pages to the doorway, as if expecting to see his brother there. Rika was leaning on Shin, her eyes closed, and a weary look on her face. She looked so much older than Sara had ever seen her. Tired and weary. Shin’s eyes were focused on the television seeing, but not seeing the evening news. He flinched when yet another report on the shooting appeared. The TV flickered off.

Three pairs of eyes moved toward Sara as she entered the room. Ken sprang up from his corner, flying into her arms and burying his face in her stomach. “Nii-san,” he choked out. Sara brought a hand to his hair and ran her fingers through it. She gave him a small smile, then met the glances of his parents.

“How bad is it?”

Rika and Shin exchanged glances. Shin swallowed and spoke, his eyes meeting the floor. “It is bad, Sara. Very grave.”

Her stomach knotted again. “Can I see him?”

Rika looked hesitant. “Sara-”

“I’ll take her.” Shin interrupted. He moved his wife from his shoulder and stood, his bones popping in protest as he did. He waved for Sara to follow him, brushed past her, and took off down the hall.

She jogged to catch up with his long strides. Shin might have been shorter than Osamu, but both Ichijouji’s had the same long paces that left her out of breath. “Ichijouji-san, please. Don’t let me go in that room unprepared. How bad is he?”

They stopped abruptly. The older man pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “He is in very critical condition, Sara. The doctors are all tip-toeing around the subject, but I managed to squeeze information out of one of the younger ones. The odds that are not good. He has only a 30 survival rate, and about a 10 chance of full recovery. The doctors have said they have seen stranger things happen, and I do believe that God works miracles. . .but I don’t think that is what He has in mind for us tonight.”

“Is he going to die?”

“Yes.” Shin’s answer was blunt. “I will be surprised if he lives until dawn.”

Sara’s heart plummeted to her stomach. Please, God. No

“He is bandaged up. They just brought him out of surgery. He has tubes in him, of course and some bandages. .but it isn’t like was in a car accident. There is no bruising or anything. They’ve cleaned up most of the blood. . . Just be prepared. He does not look the best.” Shin led her to the intensive care unit, stopping just outside the door. “They will only allow two people at once, and since I’ve been three times already. . . I informed them that his wife would be coming through, and not to mess with you. They shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

Shin nodded at her, turned on his heel and left her standing at the doors. Sara took a deep breath, convincing herself she could do this. She was strong. Taking another breath, Sara pushed the doors open and was immediately surrounded by a series of beeps from the surrounding rooms. A nurse stopped her, wanting to know who she was visiting and why she was in there.

“Ichijouji Osamu.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “His wife?”

Sara nodded once, and the nurse pointed to the door to the left. Sara thanked her and moved toward the open room, closing her eyes and stepping into the small space. When she opened her eyes, her heart almost stopped.

Shin was right - Osamu didn’t look that bad. The doctors had cleaned most of the blood from him, leaving only traces of it in his hair and a little where it had stained his skin. Tubes were hooked to almost every vein on his body - his arms, his nose, his wrists, and Sara swore she saw one from beneath the covers. A heart monitor kept track of his pulse, and another clicked as it pumped air in and out of Osamu’s lungs. Without all the equipment around, Sara could have almost convinced herself he was sleeping. Almost.

Sara approached the bed cautiously, afraid she would knock something out of order. Wires were everywhere around the room, making Sara nervous. She stepped over them and looked down at Osamu, swallowing back the emotion. “Osamu,” she whispered, wishing she knew if he could hear her or not. “I’m here. I can’t stay long. . The doctors won’t let me, but I wanted you to know that I’m here. I’ll always be here. . Just like you told me you would be for me. .”

A tear streamed down her cheek. “You can’t break your promise now. We’ve got everything ahead of us, Osamu. We’re married, we’re moving to the States at the end of next month. . Dad said he’s try to find us a cheap apartment. . We have a baby. You have to stay alive for the baby. You just have to. You can’t leave me.”

She took his hand, squeezing it momentarily. Bending down very slowly, Sara placed a kiss on Osamu’s forehead, while a few tears fell on his face. She smiled sadly at him, and squeezed his hand three more times - their secret code.

A nurse poked her head in. “Ma’am . .the doctor says that you need to leave now.”

“I know. Thank you for letting me see him.” She turned back to Osamu, gave one last squeeze and let started to let go. Suddenly, she gasp in shock.

The nurse looked alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“I. . I’m fine.” Sara breathed, allowing herself to be lead out of the room. The nurse checked Osamu’s stats looking back at Sara in worry. Sara wanted to keep this feeling to herself. She assumed the nurse would just think she was upset about his accident, or and the possibility of facing his death. While that was defiantly a factor it wasn’t why she gasp. Sara had squeezed three times to say that she loved him.

And she swore she felt him squeeze back.


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Sara pushed into the apartment, not even noticing for a moment that Aoi and Kenji sat on the couch. They exchanged worried glances before Kenji stood. “Sara,” he said quietly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. It was something Sara noticed he did when he was nervous. Funny how she’s never noticed it before. “Is everything okay? Osamu? Is he going to be alright? What about his family.”

She wanted to tell them. She wanted to say what had happened that night. She wanted to tell them about the squeeze she had felt from Osamu’s hand (had she dreamed that?). She wanted to tell them about the baby. About their plans to move to the States in a few weeks. About everything. But only two words came from her mouth.

“Osamu’s dead.”