And Then, They Fell in Love

Osamu was flat out ignoring her. Instead of being bitter like she had expected him, Osamu wouldn’t even take a glance at her. He had moved his seat across the room, as far away from Sara as he could physically get. While she understood that he was mad, and understood why, she though that he was taking things a little too far.

Why did this hurt so badly? They had hardly been dating three weeks.

Students whispered in the hallways. Some snickered, mostly girls glad that “Ichijouji had come to his senses”, a few were sympathetic, and a few guys wondered if they could score with her now. For the most part, Sara ignored it all, wishing they would all disappear. School was becoming tougher, her homework piling up more and more. . And to top it all off, she thought she was coming down with a cold.

All in all, the past two weeks were hell.

Sara pushed her way through the halls, determined to get to her locker as quickly as she possibly could. If she moved fast enough, she wouldn’t have to meet Osamu in the hallway. She wasn’t aware of her lack of attention until she ran headfirst into another person, spilling their books across the hallway.

“I am so sorry!” she cried, dropping to the ground and began to frantically pick up the books. With her luck, it would once again be Osamu.

It wasn’t.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, grabbing the books from her and catching her eye. A small smile appeared on his face. “You’re Sara Adams.”

Sara groaned. “Am I that hated?”

He let out a small chuckle. “Not completely. You have been the subject of great interest. . . Being an American, dating Ichijouji. . . We usually do not get that much attention. You’ve livened things up.” The teen shrugged and shifted his backpack onto his shoulder. “Takanouchi Yukio.” He made a small bow.

Sara returned it. “Nice to meet you, Takanouchi-san.” She muttered, hoping she had the right suffix.

Takanouchi gave her a smile. “Yukio, please. If Ichijouji can be on first name basis with you, I can as well. I’m sure that it would make you feel more at home. Are you adjusting well to Japan?”

“It’s taking some time,” she began slowly, moving to her locker. Yukio followed her, smiling. “Osa-- Ichijouji-san has helped me a lot. With the language and the etiquette. Your culture is completely different than mine in America. I’m going to have to adjust again when I go back home.”

Yukio frowned. “You’re going home?”

She blinked. “After graduation, yes. Unless, of course, I find a college here that I could apply to. But by that time I’ll be homesick.”

“You already are.” He observed.

She was homesick. Especially in the last two weeks since Osamu had started his cold war against her, she wanted nothing more than to buy a plane ticket to Oklahoma and leave. But she knew that would not only hurt Aoi and Kenji, but it would throw her sleeping cycle back off. The last thing she needed was to flunk her last year in high school. Her best shot was to stay in Japan. . . Even if it hurt her.

“I’m adjusting.” Sara repeated, gathering her books and shoving them into her school bag. “Sure, I miss my parents everyday, but there are some great people here too. My “foster parents”, Itaria, and a few other students.”

“But you’re lonely.”

“Sometimes.” Sara agreed.

Yukio took this into consideration. Suddenly, he smiled at her. “Let me take you somewhere. Out to eat. Even if it’s just for ramen or McDonalds. It would be a chance to get your mind away from school.”

And other things Sara thought. She shrugged and gave him a smile. “Sure. Why not.”

A grin lit up Yukio’s face - not unhandsome. Though he was no Osamu (Sara could be biased), Yukio was cute in his own way. His face still hadn’t lost all of it’s boyish roundness, giving him a youthful appearance. But his light brown eyes and reddish hair mixed well. When he smiled, it lit up his face and reached his eyes. She liked that.

He took her to a sushi bar not far from the school, and sat her down while he ordered. Nervously, Sara stared around the small restaurant. . Until her eyes landed on one person in particular.

Ichijouji Osamu.

Fate had to hate her. Sara’s stomach did an unpleasant lurch and an odd sensation racked her body. Almost like pain, but different. Something that she couldn’t describe. It started in her chest and went to her stomach. An empty, hollow feeling. Like something was majorly wrong.

Yukio returned with a plate of different sushi and two large bowls of rice. He sat them in front of her, and placed both chopsticks and forks next to them. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m not, honestly. I haven’t been hungry lately.”

A frown crossed his face again. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten a proper meal?”

“I had a pop-tart this morning.”

“Sara. A full fledged meal. Morning, afternoon, and evening.”

How long had it been? She wasn’t a breakfast person, so skipping the morning meal was no big deal. . But she couldn’t remember when she’d last sat down and ate dinner with Aoi or Kouji. “At least a week or more. Probably closer to three.”

The frown was etched further into his features. “You need to eat,” Yukio muttered, pushing the rice toward her, and setting a fork on top of it. “You are going to get sick if you don’t eat.”

“I’m already sick.” Sara argued, taking the fork and shoving food in her mouth. The taste of the rice made her stomach churn in an unpleasant way, and she had to force herself to swallow it. She chocked it down and managed to smile in Yukio’s direction, although she really wasn’t seeing him. Osamu was sitting at the table behind Yukio, and was watching her from the corner of his eye. For a brief moment, their eyes met. That odd pang in her stomach was back.

“Sara?”

Her attention focused back to Yukio. “Sorry. I have a tendency to daze off sometimes.”

Yukio frowned. “Are you okay?”

Sara meant to reply, but the room was getting hot. Too hot. She waved her hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool off, but it wasn’t helping. Spots were beginning to appear in front of her eyes. That was never a good sign. In the background, she could hear Yukio’s concerned voice, but didn’t understand what he was saying. Osamu’s interest was perked as well, for he scooted his chair from the table slightly. Nice to know he was so concerned. Slowly, she rested her head against the cool table and shut her eyes, breathing deeply.

Yukio wasn’t convinced she was okay though. He stood from his chair and walked to the her side of the table, grabbing one of her arms. “Let me take you to the nurses station. You’re ill, Sara.”

She was ill? No kidding. Sara was too dizzy to make a sarcastic remark, and let Yukio guide her from the chair. Maybe the nurse had something that would take this away.

“Sara?”

Osamu’s voice broke through her haze, and before she could blink, he was in front of her. “What’s the matter?” he demanded, reaching out for her. Yukio blocked his way.

“She’s sick,” Yukio all but snapped, staring at him from between narrowed eyes. “I was on my way to take her to the nurses office. You needn’t bother, Ichijoui. I can handle her.”

Osamu was good natured, ignoring Yukio’s coldness. “I disagree. I consider Sara to be, somewhat, my responsibility. I can take her from here, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind.”

Violet eyes rolled. “I’m not going to hurt her. Don’t worry - you won’t find her body in the dumpster later.”

“What, you mean they’ll never find me?” Sara managed to get out, staring between the two boys. Apparently, hersarcasm hadn’t left her.

Something flashed in Osamu’s eyes. She’d hit a nerve and she knew it. Instead of the tirade, she expected, he kept his cool. “I meant,” he growled. “That you will be safe with me. Sara,” he leaned closer, his mouth next to her ear. She shivered. “Trust me. Please.”

The room was spinning. Sara could hear Osamu’s words, but he could have been telling her to square dance naked for all she knew. She didn’t care. Blindly, Sara reached out to grab something as she fell, and heard Yukio and Osamu’s panicked voices. A pair of arms caught her, and she saw Osamu’s face one brief instant before everything went black.


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She was uncomfortable. Bright lights seeped through her closed eyes, causing her to scrunch them tighter, and she let out a small groan. At the noise, Sara heard a few voices - Aoi . .and one that sounded like Osamu. Though still drowsy, a strange beeping noise, and something poking her hand caused her from drifting. Instead, she opened her eyes and squinted, staring at the white walls around her.

A hospital? Why was she in a hospital?

Osamu’s voice came from her right. “She’s awake.”

It seemed that everyone she knew was crowded into the small hospital room. Aoi and Kenji, Osamu, Yukio, Itaria, the Ichijouji’s . . . did they expect her to die? She glared at all of them. “This is totally unnecessary,” she grumbled. “All I did was pass out. I’ve done it before - I’ll do it again. Stop acting like I’m on my death bed.”

She heard a chuckle. “Nice to see she has her attitude back.” That was Osamu. Yukio suppressed a grin.

Kenji patted her arm. “The school called and told us they had taken you to the emergency room. All we knew was that you had passed out. We were worried, Sara.”

Sara tried to sit up - bad idea. The room started spinning again. “I’ve passed out before. I appreciate your concerns but I really don’t need all of this worry. How long have I been out?”

“Sixteen hours.” That was Yukio, who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. She must have looked shocked, because he launched into an explanation. “You were already unconscious when we brought you to the hospital. . . And the medication they gave you continued to make you sleepy. You’ve been “awake” a few times, but not exactly conscious. If that makes sense.”

A nod was sufficient. There was complete silence in the room, before Osamu broke it. “May I please have a few moments along with Sara?”

Yukio was immediately defensive. “What for?”

“I need to explain something. Something between me and her.” He smiled at the rest of the family as they began to pile out. Only Yukio stayed. “I promise not to hurt her, stress her out, or make her cry.” With slow steps, watching Osamu’s every move, Yukio exited the room, but Sara had a feeling he wasn’t far away.

Neither spoke for a moment, both staring at different objects in the room. Unable to take the silence any further, Sara sighed. “Are you speaking to me again?”

“Yes.” Osamu ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I am. I decided it was ridiculous not talking to you.”

“Really?” Sara didn’t restrain her sarcasm. “Just like it wasn’t completely ridiculous to literally throw me out of your apartment?”

“I over-reacted.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Stop it!” Osamu snapped. “Stop being sarcastic with me. I’m trying to apologize - can’t you tell?” He glared at her for a few moments, before groaning in exasperation. “Sometimes, Sara, you can be the most absurd person on this planet. Do you realize how hard it has been these past two weeks not talking to you? Seeing you every day in class and ignoring you? Watching you starve yourself to death, watching you cry, and knowing that it was my fault?”

His observations rattled her. She wasn’t aware he had noticed her lack of an appetite. Or the fact that he had seen her crying. Sara refused to be the broken girlfriend who bawled on someone’s shoulder until the boyfriend came back to her. Unfortunately, that’s what he made her out to be\.

“I don’t need you.” she whispered.

“I know. You’re a grown woman - you’ll survive.” Osamu agreed. “But that was a hard way to have your first boyfriend dump you.”

Her hand twitched, itching to slap him. The wall was suddenly becoming very interesting as Sara tried hard not to stare at Osamu. He continued.

“You deserve an explanation.”

“You’re right.”

Osamu was silent for a few moments. When he finally did speak, Sara had to lean closer to hear him.

“I did shoot him,” he all but whispered. “At eight years old, I shot and killed someone. But it wasn’t what the press made it out to be. I wasn’t some psychotic child that had a gun. I fired in self-defense. And I wasn’t aiming for his stomach - I was trying for his leg. But what eight year old aims well?

“Maka was my uncle. He’s the youngest sibling in my father’s family. Total black sheep for many reasons. He was rebellious, didn’t really care about what others thought of him. The Ichijouji’s are very traditional, just so you know. And very closed minded. However, despite all of his shortcomings, Maka was probably the most loved sibling in that family.” Osamu rolled his eyes. “Mama’s little boy. He couldn’t do anything wrong.

“When I was about six, my parents started letting him watch me during the summer and after school. At first everything was great. He was sort of like a big brother. We went to parks, movies. I loved being around him. Maka was a people person. He could charm anyone. Unfortunately, he was too much of a charmer with the women. Too many times he would bring his girlfriends home while I was there. He wasn’t very decent with them either.”

Osamu paused, as if not sure how to tell the rest of the story. Sara couldn’t really see where all of this was going, but she trusted Osamu. His hands were twisting into her blanket, and he was staring at the ground.

“I guess you would call him a pervert. Even at six, I knew some of what was going on. And I knew that it wasn’t something I should have been seeing or hearing.” He bit his lip and took a breath. “I kept silent about it, hoping that maybe he would stop. . Because before and after, he was still a great buddy of mine. . . But that changed. I made the mistake of coming downstairs one day when he was with one of his girlfriends. . . . . I guess he decided I should join.”

It took Sara a brief moment to understand what he was saying. “. . . He molested you?”

“Sort of. The girlfriend did most of the job. I kept my mouth shut because I did not think my family would believe me. Who would have thought quiet, soft-spoken Maka was involved in pedophilia? My Grandmother to this day refuses to believe any of the “lies” as she calls them. She doesn’t even know the half of it.

“To sum it up, my parents left me with him one night to go on an anniversary. Their eighth, I believe. Maka decided by this time that he wanted to take things a step further. . . He was through with being kind. I knew roughly what was about to happen, I got scared, and I grabbed the gun he always kept on his dresser and I shot.” He took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t intend to kill him.”

Sara’s arms were around his neck before she could stop herself. She was surprised to find herself holding back tears. Tears for something she had so misjudged and tears for Osamu. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his hair, stroking the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Osamu muttered pulling away. “I have spent so much of my life under a camera. . . My privacy is something I value very highly. And the one thing you happened to intrude on. . . It’s a secret I have been hiding for years. My parents don’t even know most of it.”

He reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. “We need to focus on you getting better. Eat, Sara. I’m not worth starving yourself over.”

“I wasn’t starving myself,” she argued. “When I’m stressed, I don’t eat. Believe it or not, the whole world is not about you.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Stop being so self-cen--” His lips covered hers before she could finish the sentence and she melted into the kiss. She had missed this. Slowly, Sara twined an arm around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. . Only to have him pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, grinning sheepishly. “It seems to be the only way to get you to shut up.”

This time, she did slap him - on the arm. Osamu laughed and moved from her reach, bending to gather his school bag in his arms. “I need to get back home. The doctors said that you should be out of here by tonight or tomorrow morning. Promise me something?”

“What?”

“When you get home, call me. We need to discuss a few more things.”

She blinked. “Like what?”

Osamu bent down until his forehead was touching hers, his breathing cool on her face. Gently, he lifted his lips to her forehead, kissing her gently. “Things like this. Be safe, Sara.” He pulled away, but not before cupping her face. Sara could feel herself blush under his gaze.

“Aishiteru, Sara.” With those words, he gave her another small smile, and headed out the door.


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Authors Notes: Now you know why Osamu reacted so strongly to Sara's discovery. That topic is not an easy one for him to discuss. Some might be wondering what was wrong with Sara --- she didn't eat. The character reflects me in the way that, when I am stressed or hurt emotionally I do two things 1) I will usually stop eating and 2) I will get sick. I myself have never passed out, but I have had all the other symptoms described here.
Also, thank you SOO much for those who have been reviwing every chapter. I really appreciate that you guys like the story so much. Be aware we're starting to get into the darker parts of the novel. It isn't exactly a happy one ^^