From: mattj@icnet.net (Inaba) Disclaimer: As always, my thanks and gratitude to the genius Matsumoto for creating such pliable characters for me to shape to my evil will ( insert meniacal laughter here ). Please do remember while you read this that it is only for fun, and I do not mean it to be taken very seriously, although it might not be as offensive as others that I've released. Distribution, as always, is at the whim of the reader, and is not meant, nor purposefully distributed for profit, or gain. Or more to the point, these characters are not mine, only the situations they have been put into. And thus, all copyrights, real or imagined, are differed to their original holders. Foreword: I tried to keep the original feel of the series in this fic, and I do hope I suceeded. It's meant to be placed in the KOR timeline a scant twenty years after the end of the Manga, but WITHOUT Madoka ever coming back to answer Kyousuke's question. I do hope you enjoy it, and for all of you who haven't yet read the manga, I hope I didn't spoil it for you. ^_- Prologue - To Be A Star Madoka threw the door open, not waiting for a moment as it bounced back into the man's face. "Serves you right!" she called over her shoulder, and stalked off. The man, rubbing his nose smirked at her back. She'd been increasingly hard to deal with lately, he thought: Must be her time of the month or something. But still, as he went back inside and sat down, beginning to make the apologies, he couldn't remember when, in the last eighteen years he'd been her agent, and manager, had she ever been *this* difficult. "Terribly sorry, gentlemen. It seems she's had to run. But we were talking." he said suavely, and nodded to the man on his left. "You said you had an offer? Let me assure you, Madoka would love to be on Baywatch, but it won't be easy to fit it into her schedule." Madoka couldn't believe the gall of that man! What was he trying to do? Kill her career by putting her on in the middle of a dozen Gerotal commercials? True enough, Baywatch had been on for more than fifteen years, but that didn't make their stars any younger. Most of them looked like a poster child for depends! She pushed her hands into her pockets, digging around for the cigarettes she'd had in the restaurant, then stopped short. They were still in the restaurant. She turned about furiously, ready to march right back, spit in his face and grab her cigarettes on the way out. But, when she thought about it, stopped short. She didn't want to be anywhere near that place right now. For if she was stupid enough to go back, she would be stuck there, or without a career. She knew what Davis had done for her, and her reputation was such that no one else would take her on. the tales of her tantrums were widespread across Neo-Hollywood. She huffed, then slouched. It was just too much. She was getting tired. Too tired to run around acting like she was thirteen all over again. She turned about, shoving her hands back into her pockets and began to wander down the sidewalk. Two blocks down she stopped at a news-stand and grabbed a pack, stuffing a cigarette in her mouth, and lighting it. "That's bad for your voice." she heard her agent intone in her mind, and pulled a drag in. At least the feel of the cigarette, almost like tempting the fates just that much more made her feel better. It was reviving in its own way to be a bit rebellious now and then. She pulled her shoulders up, drawing herself in as she cursed, realizing that she'd forgotten her sunglasses too. She wasn't in very much danger in LA, where just about everybody was famous anyway. But it still made her feel odd. Like one of those paper targets the cops used to train, waiting to get shot. Even the town seemed oppressive. She needed to get out. Just get out of LA for a while. Let her head get straitened out before her life was filled again with whatever project they shoved in front of her. That was really the only way she'd survived after her marriage had ended, eight years ago. When she was too busy to think about anything else, she couldn't worry. But now. She just had to get out. She took the Vine lift to the station, and hopped on the monorail to the mainland. As the ground swept away, and the clumped, city streets faded into the small rift of ocean that separated LA from the mainland, she breathed a sigh. It had been so long since she'd been away from that place. Out, away from all the lights, and faceted smiles. Out where real people lived. A man bumped into her as the car shook, hitting a too high support. She readied herself with an angry retort, but bit it back. She didn't need that anymore, she told herself. She could be herself now. Away from the city. She looked up to the man, and for the first time saw him. It was only a profile, and he hadn't even noticed her, but... That face was familiar. She searched her mind, frowning at the thought of running into a co-worker here. But for the life of her, she couldn't place where she'd seen him before. He wasn't too tall, with dark hair and a mustache that did little more than line his top lip, not bushy enough to give the impression of sloppiness. He was built about average. His shoulders not big, but he probably did something that required him to be on his feet for a living, for he wasn't at all paunchy. His black hair and dark brows framed his firm, almost old eyes. His eyes. That was it. She knew where she'd seen this man before. She just couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. She opened her mouth to speak, and clamped it shut quickly, hugging herself to the wall absently. What would she say? What COULD she say? After twenty years.... Kyousuke stepped up to the doors as the LA monorail slid into its docking port. He'd been in the states only four hours, and was already tired, ready to go home. The airport had been on the mainland, and he'd had to get an air taxi to take him out, missing the first monorail. But still, he hadn't minded. It was a much smoother ride, and more quiet than trying to think while surrounded by people, even though he knew he'd known he couldn't afford it and would have to take the monorail back. To top it, Kazuya hadn't been in his office when he'd gotten there. To be sure, he'd been late, but only by a matter of minutes. He certainly didn't deserve to wait an hour in that stuffy waiting room of his cousin's. Then, when he finally did get to see him, they'd spent almost the entire time talking, leaving the business that he'd come to discuss alone until there hadn't been time. Kazuya had taken the files of course, and said he would look over them first thing. But Kazuya, Kyousuke thought: has always been a bit of a procrastinator. The man's present situation proved it. Kyousuke frowned as the doors swooshed out of his way, making the large clock that ticked away on the opposite wall visible. He'd missed the last ballistic shuttle to Tokyo. Another expense. Soko wouldn't be too pleased with him when he got home. At the thought of his daughter he felt a bit better, if tired. She'd always been there. The only woman in his life that was always happy to see him. Or had been when she was young. Things were a little tougher now that she'd turned sixteen. Another worry to busy his mind. He'd asked Manami to look after her, but that girl had the strangest way with his sister. As a matter of fact, she was probably having a party right this minute. He found his way to the first hotel cheap enough for him to stay a night, and checked in, glancing over his shoulder nervously as he scribbled his name out in English. He'd had the oddest feeling of being watched all the way there. He put it out of his mind. Traveler's woes, he thought, and cramped his signature into the little box and handed over his card. The man scanned it quickly and directed Kyousuke to put his thumb on the pad. He did so and the box whirred softly. "Number 99." the man said as he passed the card back over. "All the way up, at the top of the steps." Kyousuke nodded and hoped the doors were numbered bilingual. His English was rusty at best. Trying to get the cab where he'd wanted it to go had been a chore. He started up the steps as the door chimed behind him. A voice rolled to him when he reached the fifth, "Do you have a room?" He stopped dead. That voice. He wanted to turn. See who it was. But brushed the thought aside. It couldn't be who he thought it was. It just couldn't be. Madoka turned slowly, pulling her head up from her hands to watch his back as he moved up the stairs. Something had caught his attention. Could it have been her voice? She didn't dare think it was. She was still engrossed in thought when the man behind the desk waved a hand in front of her face. "You okay, lady?" he said, then smirked at her lost expression when she turned to him. "We don't like toppers in this hotel. You keep that in mind." "Oh, uh...." she began, but couldn't find the words she wanted. She could've come up with a retort. Always did at any other time. What made today different? she thought as she handed over her card, but her eyes were still on the man's back. Could it be? "Hey...." the man said slowly, his eyes wandering upwards in awe. "You're..." Shit! she cursed to herself: What was I thinking?! Then pulled a couple of hundred notes out of her pocket, shoving them into the man's hand. "There's more where that came from if you can keep this to yourself." The man looked down to his hand in awe, then back to her, a cynical smile crowding his pudgy features. "Sure, whatever you say." he said, and nodded his head up the stairs as he shoved a keycard into her hand. "Take room 100, at the top of the steps. I'll let the maid know not to clean that room. Just call down if you need anything. I'll be right here." Madoka grimaced. She was sure he would be here. Four hundred notes was more than he made in a week. To get in one day he'd lick her shoes. "Thanks." she called to him, and started for the steps, climbing them two at a time. By the time she got three-quarters of the way up she was huffing for breath. How high is this damn thing? she mused, and pushed on. She'd just reached the last flight when she stopped short, pulling back around the corner quickly. He was there, even now pushing the door open before him. She peeked around the corner, but he was already gone. Silently, she wondered what she would have done if he'd actually seen her. And for that matter, would he even recognize her? She had no idea. She went to her own room and pushed the keycard in, letting it whirr, then click open. She peeked in, checking around the small, rudimental room. There was a small old-style refrigerator below the terminal, and a bed that slumped lazily in the middle. The other furniture, where it was stable, consisted of a small, battered end table, and a pristine copy of the Gideon Bible atop it. She slumped onto the bed, thinking. There had just been too much happening. Was she being a fool? Did she really think...? Yes, she sighed to herself, she did. She knew it was Kasuga. Knew it in her bones. But that didn't mean that she had the right, or cause to follow him around. And it definitely didn't mean she could.... she shied away from the thought, and dug for a cigarette. She pulled the pack out, lifted her hand to the pack, then stopped, staring at it. Old words ran through her mind. "If you smoke now you won't have healthy children!" She chuckled at the thought, then remembered what had happened afterward. The shocked look on his face when her hand connected. She winced. "That's just like you, Madoka. When you want something you just have to treat it like shit." She threw the pack of cigarettes down and looked about the room. The sight was almost as depressing as her thoughts. The old place looked like she felt. She went to the frige, pulling it open. There wasn't much to choose from. There was some vodka that looked like a domestic, some JD, and two little shooters of Capt. Morgan's. She took the rum and sucked one down right away, feeling it tingle through her nerves. Un. she thought, a drink was just what she needed. Too much had happened today. She pulled out a soda and mixed it with the rest of the rum, adding a few cubes of ice that looked more like rust. She woke up the next morning, an ache growing in her head, and her eyes squeezed shut against the dawn light seeping through the curtains. She pulled her eyes wide, then rubbed her palms into them. When the room came into focus enough for her to realize where she was, she shot out of the bed. Where the hell am I? she thought, then slowly remembered the day before. Her lips moved slightly, and a small, almost whisper filled the room, "Kasuga-kun....." She grabbed at her jacket, and threw it on, threw the door open and pounded at the door across the hall. She stood for a moment. Listening. She pounded again. No answer. She ran down the stairs, taking them two, three at a time while her mind ran through the possibilities. Could he have seen me? she though, but immediately discounted the idea. She like to think that she wasn't that scary. But then.... had she slept through the only chance she'd had left?! She came upon the man at the desk. A different man, she mused, still huffing for breath as she leaned on the desk for support. "The man... " she huffed. "In room 99...... has he checked out?" "Huh?" the man intoned. "He left a couple of hours ago. Why? Is he your husband or something?" he said, then leveled his eyes at her. "You're not gonna' give me that, I got the cash, are you?" "I paid yesterday!" she fumed, angry to the bone. Why had he gone? And.... what was she to do now? Foreword: I tried to keep the original feel of the series in this fic, and I do hope I suceeded. It's meant to be placed in the KOR timeline a scant twenty years after the end of the Manga, but WITHOUT Madoka ever coming back to answer Kyousuke's question. I do hope you enjoy it, and for all of you who haven't yet read the manga, I hope I didn't spoil it for you. ^_- Chapter 1 - Looking Back Ayukawa pushed the door open before her, her eyes absently scanning the large suite about her as she pushed one foot into the carpeted parlor of the room, her hand waft across the dials that were built into the wall on the right. At once the lights came up, if only slightly as the speakers began to intone it's welcome in a young, feminine voice, "Welcome to Holiday Inn Tokyo. Please help yourself to complimentary drinks at the bar located to your left." Ayukawa's eyes traced to the small, but adequate -for her purposes at the least- bar, then scanned the rest of the room as she pushed herself past the threshold, closing the door behind her, her concentration still consumed by the voice that rang from the wall. "This evening, for your viewing pleasure, Aya Hisagawa Live is available at Fifth Way dot com on your terminal in the suite proper, as well as many other pre-recorded selections which are available in the bearou beneath the main interface." Ayukawa nodded harshly, dismissing the standard hotel customer harassment all rooms were programmed to commit upon entry and strutted to the bar. She hadn't had a drink since she'd gotten on the bullet shuttle from New York. She'd heard all the reports on how 'safe' and 'harmless' those damn ballistic shuttles were, but she still believed in the very fabric of her bones that you didn't need to go all the way to the heavens and back just to go half-way round the globe. She thumbed the bar terminal abruptly, her nerves still jangled from the ordeal of traveling as the impersonal voice of the computer answered her call, "How may I help you?" Ayukawa cringed at the annoyance. She was too tired to be nice to a machine. "Sake." she barked at the screen, "Tepid." "Hai. Chotto mate kudasai." the computer chimed merrily, sending another cringe through Ayukawa's bones. She swore the hotel industry had lost something when they had replaced actual humans with these infernal machines. At least you could get mad at a human and not feel absolutely stupid about it later, or at least, not much. The machine hummed quietly, then slid an opening wide in the top of the rectangular box implanted into the wall and with a barely audible whir slid a half full porcelain tumbler up into view. Ayukawa grabbed at it immediately, pulling it to her lips and taking a slow drink from the tumbler. Her muscles relaxed slowly as the warm tingle of the liquid ran through the extremities her body. "Ah...." she replied contentedly into the glass as she pulled it down from her mouth, allowing herself a moment to center herself before she took another sip, letting the steam curl slowly around her features as the enforced relaxation of the drink came. She turned quickly, looking to the terminal that held most of the rear wall of the main room and smiled tranquilly. She didn't really like Aya too much, her style was a bit too... well. But she might find something in the hotel's stock of DVCD's. She nodded to herself firmly and turned back to the bar terminal and keyed it quickly to transfer it's functions to the main room before that infernal voice could spark her anger again, but it responded merrily, as if to taunt her, "Arigato gozaimasu." Ayukawa clenched her teeth, her eyes starting to register the indescribable cringe that took her body and calmed herself consciously, forcing a calm smile to her lips and thrust a finger at the off button, silencing that 'quaint little voice'. She nodded to herself firmly, her eyes finding the pleasure of at least one argument won today, then turned toward the main room and made her way through the threshold of the entry-way and across the room. She placed her now cool sake on a temp-coaster, keying the pad to 84 degrees ferenheight, then turned toward the main terminal, her eyes glinting across the varying panels until she found the one marked 'Entertainment'. She pressed her thumb against the panel as she lowered herself to the floor, setting herself on the back of her ankles. The drawer opened wide before her as her eyes fluttered across the array of selections. She had to admit, they hadn't spared any expense on their video library. "Drink, please." she murmured as her index finger ran itself down the first row of selections. The end table obediently shushed it's way along the chair rail along the wall to her side. She lifted her hand to the table as it stopped, her eyes still amused with the array of titles that lay before her, her finger just starting down the second row. She pulled another sip from her glass, the liquid bringing another tinge of relief into her form, allowing the muscles of her arms become pleasantly slack as her eyes fumbled across one of the selections in the list. "Masaka." she mumble to no one in particular, her finger following her gaze back up to the title that had caught her eye. "LIVE!! The Price Of Love - Ayukawa Madoka" "Hohoho!" she chuckled aloud, her eyes squinting under the pressure of her humor as the laugh began to enthrall her, then calmed slowly. She hadn't expected to see her own name in the list of so many, most especially from such a distant concert. Actually, it had been the first of many. She smiled brightly and ran her finger down the list again. There were more of hers there, as well as the one movie she had ever made. Laughter licked at her ribs again as she remembered how bad that movie actually was. She had been one of the many singers to who had taken a shot at a career in acting at that time, and the one her agent had picked up for her was a veritable disaster. The writers had no idea what they were doing, no idea what kind of image she wanted to project, and the director, the DIRECTOR! had spent more time chasing her around the set than actually directing the picture. She could still remember his name, even now. 'Moroboshi.' she chimed to herself as another gust of laughter hit her again. She wasn't likely to forget *him*, or his wife, she chuckled lightly to herself. "Tzzzzzt!" she mumbled to herself, then burst out laughing. No, that was one experience that she didn't think she would *ever* forget. "Mmmm..." she sighed to herself as the storm subsided, her eyes a-glaze with memories. Even that had been a very long time ago, more time than she had ever imagined there was, so long ago. Abruptly her smile disappeared as the thought ran through her mind. That was the truth of it, 'so long ago'. That was one thing she did regret. Time. Kyousuke pushed himself along the sidewalk, his eyes diligently drawn to his feet, as if he were not willing to see so much of himself in the dim faces that passed him on the late Saturday evening. He straitened his form and nodded abruptly to the two men who faced him, murmuring an apology as he squeezed himself between them. It had been quite a while since he'd been out of the house by himself, much longer than he'd thought as a matter of fact, but one didn't have much time when trying to raise a teen-age daughter, most especially *his* teen-age daughter, Soko. It seemed that she was always getting into trouble, in one way or another. As a matter of fact, she was the only reason he was out this late. She had gone out on a date with one of her schoolmates, who, by some miracle of happenstance, reminded him somewhat of himself when he was that age, which was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all. He remembered too much about those days, and what kind of schemes he had come up with to interest the various girls in his past. In that knowledge, he couldn't help but make sure his 'baby' was all right no matter how early the young man had promised to bring her home. Even she was too much like someone he knew all to well for him to be certain about her safety. And so, he had found himself here, walking the same street he couldn't remember how many times, looking into one particular window each time he passed. It really wasn't too bad, he told himself. He had gotten incredibly bored standing outside the movie theatre, trying to stay in the shadows in case they had decided that particular showing didn't suit them. He chuckled to himself at the thought. He really must learn to trust her sometime. Even if he could find the time he would surely run out of energy before she did. His relatively old bones couldn't take going out every night for hours on end. His metabolism wouldn't put up with it. But nevertheless, he was here, walking this street, and making sure his daughter hadn't run into any problems on her 'date', although he refused to think of it as such. It wasn't his fault that none of her so-called boyfriends weren't good enough for him. He pulled his eyes up from the pavement beneath his feet, scanning the streets as his mind ran over every part of the evening with a critical glare. He could already see the danger signs in this one. He had that far-off look of a dreamer, which was all right as far as it went, but then again -even though he remembered the same look in his own eyes- such boys weren't noted for their.... His feet stopped abruptly, breaking his thoughts as he found his head painfully pressed up against the broad shoulders of a very large man staring into the window of small electronics shop with a sudden THUMP! "Hey!" the large man responded, turning to Kyousuke fiercely, "Watch where you're going!" then turned back to the Terminals in the window tuned to a news site. "Hahahaha!" Kyousuke stuttered out, his palms beginning to sweat nervously, hiding one hand behind his head "Go.. Gomen." One thing he most definitely did not need was to attract any kind of attention. If his daughter caught him again there would be hell to pay. His hoarse throat still remembered the last time she had seen him following her on one of her dates, and remembered the shouting match that had insued after she had caught him alone. He couldn't help it if he was a bit protective of his only daughter. It was just his way, even though it did seem to suffocate anyone who knew him, or so Manami told him every time she saw him. But he pushed the thought back to deal with later as he bowed slightly to the man's back, chuckling nervously, all too eager to remove himself from the situation when the light tone of the large terminal in the window caught his attention. He stood consumed by the screen as the young blonde anchor continued with her monologue, "And in other news today, the singing sensation Ayukawa Madoka has disappeared from her California home, missing the first scheduled appearance of her new tour entitled 'Unique' at Radio City Music Hall. Her agent and Manager, Mr. Davis has issued a press release denighing the rumors of her early retirement from her singing career and assures the public that she will most certainly attend her next scheduled event, dated April 22 in Chicago. However, sources close to Madoka state that..." but Kyousuke's mind was elsewhere, drifting through memories that he had never thought exhausted after all this time. "Papa!" a voice sounded out from behind him as he jumped out of his skin. "Oooaagh!" he sounded, his mind quickly turning to the situation at hand as he turned slowly. 'Shimata!' he sounded to himself. She'd caught him. "Ah! Soko-chan," he smiled to his daughter, then nodding noncommittally to her young counterpart, "what a coincidence!" he tried to explain futily as the sweat began to pour down from his forehead, hiding his hand at the base of his neck as he gave a nervous chuckle. She brushed his comment aside as she always did in this situation, and poised herself for her usual 'dim' response, "Papa, Seigi-san's going to walk me home, so don't stay out too late, okay?" "Ahhaha!" Kyousuke struggled, trying to come up with something that would counter his daughter's quick blow. "Hai." then chiding himself fiercely for not coming up with something that could at least be considered a sentence. "Ja ne, Papa!" she turned quickly, grabbing her date by the arm and pulling him after her. She had no compulsion to stay here and listen to his excuses. She could do that at home. "Ja!" Kyousuke called after her as they swept through the crowd of people gathered along the sidewalk, then sighed to himself as they dropped out of sight. It had already been a rough night, and was surely likely to get worse. But who could blame him for not trusting a boy with a name like that? And the way he looked at her. What had possessed her to associate with such an obvious 'H'?! He liked to think that it was her mother that inspired such things in her, but he knew better. He hadn't exactly been an angel all his days, most especially when he'd heard the phrase 'Just the two of us.' no matter who it pertained to. He pulled his head up quickly, his eyes fierce with the light of recognition, as the thought passed through his mind. At his doorstep, just the two of them. "Shimata!" he bellowed aloud, his mind caught in the fury of the thought, and broke into a feverish run. If he could just get there before they did, he could stop the inevitable, as if that was something that was possible. But he most surely didn't want her to repeat the mistakes that he'd made, and he felt sure -as he did about any boy who entered his home- that Seiji was one of them. "Out of my way!!" Madoka groaned as she turned onto her side, the mass of dark hair that covered her face sent almost electric tingles throughout her features as her eyes fluttered open. It had been a hard night, and even now, as she woke, if slowly, she could still feel the presence of what it was that she had run from the night before. Ayukawa grimaced at the pains that wracked her stomach, yet pushed herself upright nevertheless. She had become somewhat accustomed to the nagging of her stomach that waited at each morning to greet her, most especially after the nights that she had chosen to drink a bit too much, which was more often than she liked to admit. She was somewhat surprised at the force of her explosion the night before as her eyes scanned the room. Drinking might be average for her at this point in her life, but violence surely wasn't, and from the look of the room around her, she had been quite violent in her attentions the night before. "Hummph." she grunted remorselessly to herself. Just one of the numerous things that her agent would surely begrudge her about the next time they talked, which was also more often than she liked to admit. She couldn't help it if he was the only one that treated her as if she was an actual person, although his schemes might not even leave room for any kind of compassion, much less human emotion, she laughed mirthlessly at the thought of his keen eyes and hollow voice. Even if he didn't know it, he was more human than most. His open cynicism had helped her even her temperament more than once, or so she told herself. She pushed her legs over the side of the bed, not surprised at the fact that she hadn't bothered to muss the sheets the night before, or that she had slept in her clothes, such was customary of one of her benges. She flapped her arms uselessly at the evidence of her drunken inaction and pressed the heel of her hands into her abused eyes, trying to make them focus, although even she couldn't really think of a reason her eyes would see anything she wanted to see. And yet, even though she most definitely didn't want to, there were things she had to do today. That was the entire reason she was here, after all this time, finally returning to her home. She huffed angrily, letting all the air fall from her lungs, then pulled in a deep breath, her chest straining painfully at the thought of actually going out in public, something else she hadn't done in a *very* long time. She held the air inside her lungs for but a second that seemed like much longer as her eyes squinted shut against the barrage of thoughts that entered her mind. All the excuses that had kept her from doing this very same thing for so many years, then with all the force she could muster, she pushed them aside. If she didn't do it now, she never would. She pushed herself up from her bed and stalked to the bath to prepare herself for the day. There had been many a day that she had dreamt of this, and now, almost as if it were another dream, she couldn't believe it was about to occur. Chapter 2 - Tools Of The Trade Manami sat at the bar of the small pub, her dazed eyes staring unwinkingly out into the masses of people that thronged, even at this hour, to and from wherever people went at this time of the morning. She leaned back slowly, her mouth opening wide in a yawn as she tried to tune out what was being said around her, her thoughts too deep in other things to bother with anything as trivial, yet enjoyable, as neighborhood gossip. She couldn't help but feel a bit restless today, as her body admitted by making her almost unbearably uncomfortable in the vinyl padded booth she and the other 'hens' always sat in. To be truthful, she didn't really care to hear about what Mrs. Komatsu from across the way was doing with her off time, or which lover Ushiko had this week. It was just a way to pass the time, and not feel so dreadfully alone. She had a husband, to be sure, and kids, more kids than she ever imagined she would have ever found the time for, but still, lately she seemed to want something more. The past few days, at the least, she had been increasingly uneasy when washing the daily dishes, or cooking a large supper for her ever expanding family, her brother's one daughter, and her twin's two sons often frequenting her home on the supposition that no one else could cook like Aunt Manami, which she assumed to be correct, knowing the two of them as well as she did. It almost seemed as if there was something missing from her life, something that she had lost a very long time ago. But she knew that was nonsense, and told herself so firmly at every chance she could find, although that still didn't stop the hunger inside her, the small part of her that said she had somehow misplaced something valuable. "Hmmm..." she sighed to herself as she watched a group of businessmen walk past along the paved side-walk out front of the small pub, her eyes following their feet for a while, then moving on to the next clump of people she didn't know, and had no care to at this moment, her mind was still on other things when the door sounded to her right, breaking her morose self-analysis. Manami pulled her eyes up from her lethargy to the sound that had so rudely disturbed her thoughts, and for one instant, had thought she had seen something so stimulating it would have been worth actually getting out of bed. 'Demo...' she responded mutely to herself, still caught in the blind confusion of what she had thought she saw. It was impossible, to be sure, after all this time. Ayukawa strolled down the strip of shops that now lined Orange Road, her eyes taking in the changes that had occurred over the 20 years that she had been gone, or as well as they could after a night like the last. She hadn't been too 'hip' on the idea of leaving the moderately safe seclusion of her hotel suite, most especially for something as ludicrous as this. After all, her agent could possibly get in touch with her if he really wanted to. That damn receptionist was all too eager to take her bribe when she had checked in, and she was all too sure that the girl would happily take a larger bribe to reveal her secret. But nevertheless, she had bought some time with her not-so hard earned cash. It would take him at least a few days to find her in this town, even if he knew where to look, which she kidded herself, hopefully, that she hadn't betrayed that as well. But there was no time for thinking about that. It would happen no matter what. A public figure like her wouldn't go unnoticed for too long, and when her merry-go-round did finally come to an end she hoped she had accomplished at least some of what she had come for. And so, she trudged on as fast as her now sore feet would take her to all the memorable sights that had stuck in her mind no matter what she put into her body, letting her legs lead her to the familiar places where her memories were kept. It hadn't taken her long to find it, not after so many days and nights of going to and from during her small scholastic career. It seemed almost as if it hadn't changed at all. The sign still declared nobly that this was where she had worked for so many nights, sweeping the floors and doing the dishes. It had even held the characteristic tilt of the C in A B C B. She chuckled at the sight. She thought that Master would have had time to fix it by now. She stepped up to the latticed door, her fingers slowly moving over the wood and glass lattice work that had been imprinted in her mind after so many days, and noticed only the new coat of paint, the exact same shade as it had always been atop the scarred edged of the glass. Abruptly, she pulled away as a young couple entered the establishment, her hand moving quickly up to her sunglasses, pulling them up over her eyes to hide her features as she apologized, "Gomen." and moved quickly out of their youthful way, the young man moving toward the door to open it for his companion. "Domo, dah-ling." the young girl answered, forcing an all-be-it subdued chuckle from Ayukawa as she moved to enter after them, a light smile moving across features that were definitely not accustomed to the strain. Ayukawa stopped in her tracks, the familiar sound of the bell that hung lazily over the door chimed gently in her ears, at once, as if it were the insolent stroke of a cat, she felt at home. She pulled in a slow breath, peeking over the rim of her sunglasses at the room laid out before her. It was as if it hadn't changed a bit. The customary coffee pot she'd used who knows how many dozens of times still sat in it's place at the counter, and table number four in the corner still seemed a bit out of place with it's harsh old rot-iron legs in contrast to the newly chromed supports of the others. Yes, she was finally home. She drew herself up quickly and strutted toward the bar, finding a vacant spot between the couple she had followed in and an old fashioned paper poster that hung drearily on the wall, one corner leaning down lazily to greet her. But she paid it no mind, as she did the humorous, at least to her, ramblings of the blonde girl that played at flirting with her cohort at the other end of the bar. Her usual speculative cynicism had seemed to have left her. She hopped up onto the stool at once, and, looking to a small menu card before her, she found not much had changed there either. Oh, a few new items, and a few zeros here and there, but basically, as far as she could remember, the same. It comforted her in a way that she couldn't begin to describe. "What can I get you, ma'am?" a voice said from directly in front of her, snapping her back from her visions of too many yesterdays. She drew her eyes up to him, self-consciously wondering how long she had been staring at the card, and the rest of the pub for that matter, but put it to the back of her mind as she searched her thoughts for what would be a good choice. "Mmmm.." she mumbled, still undecided when it caught her. 'Yes,' she thought, her eyes resting on the old antique that stood in it's rightful place on the counter, then replied aloud. "A cup of American Coffee would be nice." absently adding a smile to her words. "Hai." the bartender nodded, turning about to face the terminal behind him. Ayukawa, her eyes following him as he moved, stared dully at the man's back as he punched the buttons of the terminal, feeling almost affronted that she would have to, even here, drink the ready-made blended crap that they passed off as coffee these days. "Umm..." but it wasn't that at all. "Ee?" the young waiter turned in answer. Ayukawa's eyes darted nervously to the antique coffee maker that sat on the bar as her voice tried to explain what it was that bothered her, "Aren't you going to use..." trying with all her might not to become the bitch everyone who knew her said she was. "Eh?" the young barkeep looked to her in response, a puzzled query with a bit of contempt that he didn't try too hard to hide. "What do you mean?" 'AAAaaahhggg!' Ayukawa cried to herself, her mind flashing with the anger that always came when anyone treated her as such, but with effort, she was able to hold back the scream long enough to explain, if feebly. "Well, it's there, isn't it?" "You must be joking." the boy stated flatly as he stared, bemused into her eyes. "Don't you know?" Then, with a huff of exasperation he idled up to the bar, leaning to her slightly to give his almost conspiratorial whisper more force, "Ayukawa Madoka herself used that coffee pot when she worked here, over 20 years ago." pointing his finger accusingly at the old glass coffee-maker, Madoka's eyes following it slowly, then darting up to the wall where *her* poster, her *first* poster hung disorderly on the wall. Ayukawa tried to force back the surprise that enthralled her, tried mightily not to allow any inclination that she might be even the slightest bit interested, but it was too late. The boy was still talking, "But personally," his eyes scanning the room once as his voice lowered in volume slightly, "I just think he keeps it around 'cause it's good for business. The yokels around here will believe anything." he pronounced with a decisive slash of his wrist as Ayukawa tried not to giggle. Apparently the boy felt some kind of affinity for the hard, cynical lines around her eyes. She tried not to giggle, tried hard, and, mostly, succeeded. But if she had betrayed anything, he surely didn't bother to bring it up, for he was again at work at the terminal, punching in orders that were now a bit backlogged for cause of their short observation. It seemed to her hopelessly sentimental, if a bit silly, but she had missed that coffee pot. It -and she was sure Master agreed with her- in a way represented her time here. Like an old style photograph in disrepair from being shoved into a wallet one too many times. A bit tattered around the edges, blurred and faded by time and sweat, but more valuable in ways that one couldn't begin to describe. The young man was back with her coffee in what seemed like seconds. 'At least the service has improved.' she thought, the humor of her statement sinking through to her bones. But she didn't feel like laughing as she nodded to the young man who placed the steaming cup in her reach. Something essential had been lost. She took a sip from the cup and felt the bitter tones of the black liquid edge into her body. The almost tangible absence of sentiment couldn't quell the hunger inside of her, the thirst for what was. She looked up from the cup, letting her hands absently place it almost out of reach as she raised a hand in plain view, flagging down the boy who rushed behind the counter, obviously busy in his own right, and more than willing to dismiss a customer who had already been a problem. Nevertheless, he came, if slowly, "Anything else?" Ayukawa stopped for a moment, trying to put into words what she had thought, and what she needed, "Where is the owner?" her voice carefully free of any resentment. "Hey," the boy chided jokingly, "you're not going to tell on me, are you?" Ayukawa bowed her head slightly and flashed an all-knowing smile for the bartender, remembering all too well how it felt to hear that same sentence from his perspective. "No," she replied, unable to keep the slight chuckle out of her voice, "you could say we're...." pausing to find the right word for it, "old friends." "Really?" the boy responded speculatively, obviously a bit weary of her story. "Well, always happy to have a friend pop back in." his eyes watching hers for any sign of malice, but, as she had made sure, there was none to be found. "Unfortunately," supposedly making his decision, for better of worse, "he's not here right now," pulling himself back from the counter, then hooking a thumb over his shoulder, "but I could ring him for you." a trace of distrust still ambient in his eyes. "Hmm.." she chuckled slightly, bowing her head to her coffee, then, as she gripped herself for the contact, she decided against it. That wasn't what she had come here for, she knew that, knew it without having to think. "No, that's okay." she said with a waft of her wrist, dismissing the subject, "I'll catch up with him later." She could at least afford some dignity. But she didn't have much time to contemplate her decision, it seemed to her that fate wouldn't allow it. She knew that confrontation was inevitable, if not immanent, but when she felt the eyes on her back, and heard the tell-tale, "Ano..." she couldn't help but feel the urge to run, and keep on running until she had reached the relative safety of her hotel suite. Fate didn't allow her that chance. The woman stepped forward behind Ayukawa, flanking her right, leaving only the slim space between herself and the wall for a getaway, but even that surpassed her. She was stuck, compelled by circumstance, and her own emotion to listen to whatever the woman had to say. "Um..." she began, her hands clenched tightly together before, kneading each other under the tension of such a question, "Don't I know you?" 'Eeaaaww...' Ayukawa grunted to herself, her body cringing with the full force of her annoyance. "No," her eyes trained on the coffee cup that sat in her hands on the bar, "I don't believe so." She could almost hear the words before the woman continued. "Mmmm..." the woman mumbled, moving closer to get a better look at her prey as her eyes widened in surprise. "It *is* you!" Ayukawa wanted to hurl. "I can't believe it!" the woman droned on, her excitement most definitely not shared by the woman she accosted. What was she to do now?! She'd never even get the chance that was her right! But the woman persisted in invading Ayukawa's thoughts, "Onee- chan! Don't you recognize me?" Ayukawa groaned. 'Not one of THOSE!' "Manami!" Ayukawa's heart skipped a beat. "Kasuga Manami!" It was as if an intolerable weight lifted from her chest. She couldn't believe, no, *wouldn't* believe it. Fate couldn't be so cruel as to put her through all *that* just to give her what she wanted. But, as she turned, she couldn't denigh the reality of the woman who stood before her, the dark hair, still long she noticed, the glass rimmed brown eyes, even the moderate, if a bit fuller proportions. "Manami!" she cried, jumping from her seat to bear hug the woman who stood before her, stunned by Madoka's reaction. "Ah!" Ayukawa chimed as she let the slightly distraught woman go, her eyes nearing tears, "It's so good to see you!" Chapter 3 - Enter Stage Left Ayukawa sat in the center of the couch, her eyes intently studying the glistening coffee that swirled round in a miniature maelstrom in the tumbler she'd only sipped throughout the last hour. There was so much going on that she couldn't seem to pin down what it was that bothered her. She had learned from Manami what had happened over the past few years, and was well on her way to a nervous breakdown. So much had happened in what seemed such a small amount of time. Both the twins were married now, as well as Akane, and Kazuya, although you couldn't really call the relationship Kazuya was in 'married'. He, unlike the other Kasuga's had had a hard time of it where relationships were concerned, and was well on his way to his second divorce. Manami had become Mrs. Hanawa, as she had married a somewhat simpleminded schoolteacher she'd met while on her own educational training. They'd had three children so far, and, as Manami had put it, didn't plan on any more popping in to say hello. But where Manami had been enamored with the idea of marriage, her twin sister hadn't, or at least while in the last years of her high school career. She'd somehow ended up doing a few things she shouldn't have, with on son on the way, been proposed to by Yuusaku, of all people. It had turned out well for them in the end, for they both knew each other's dispositions very well, sharing most of their overt traits, as do their children, or so Ayukawa had heard. But the family's ability to screw up didn't end there. Akane had been some kind of dancer for a while, and had continued on with her usual sexual habits until one of her lovers had made a point of embarrassing her quite willfully. The offending party was never put back together properly, but Akane, after seeing a bit of the dark side, and a bit of her own side, had decided on a woman she'd met while shopping. They'd been married not two years now, and were considering adopting their first child even now. It warmed Ayukawa's heart to think of it, even though that wasn't the life she'd have hoped for if it had been her. And then there was Kazuya, who had so much resembled Kyousuke -Ayukawa degressed fondly- when he was young who had the brunt of the matter. Now on his second wife, Kazuya hadn't really had a great time of it. Even though he hadn't borne any children upon either consummation, he still had the alimony to make and was yet to receive the bill from yet another. He'd been good at what he'd chosen to do after college, and made a good sum, or so Manami said. But unfortunately, for all concerned, his taste for women -most especially secretaries- hadn't been anything but trouble for him. It had cost him one marriage, two jobs, and was about to cost him another wife, and another hundred thousand in divorce lawyers. But, if anything, that was Kazuya. Ayukawa couldn't help but hope that Kyousuke's story had been different, if at least somewhat, then chided herself for even thinking on it. She didn't have the right, after all this time, to come waltzing back into his life. She knew that. Knew it in her bones. But the more she thought about it the more she wanted to ask. Fortunately for her, Manami was busy in the kitchen or she would of. But there was more on her mind that just Kyousuke. There was the old style photograph above the mantle, and Manami's 'surprise' that she had so deftly hinted at but didn't explain. The photograph was an old color job, much like the ones that she could remember Kasuga Takashi taking of the eight of them. And, strange enough, the photo didn't look that old. To be sure, Kyousuke hadn't had a mustache when they'd been in high school, and Manami hadn't been pregnant either. But there was something else. Ayukawa, even in her most inebriated states, could count quite well. She'd dropped out of high school, to be sure, but she still had ten fingers, even if the prop department of her tour, and the few movie sets she'd been on tried mightily to get at least one of them. Manami's twin girls were there, and Kurumi's two children, as well as Kazuya's step-daughter, Aichi. But that only accounted for all but one child in the picture. She was pale, with light brown hair that hung long and deep over one eye, although braided taughtly in the back. Even from the place where Ayukawa sat she could still see the deep green of the girl's eyes. The shape of the mouth and chin that all but said, Kasuga. But who were her parents? The girl stood between Kyousuke, and Akane and her Natsume, but held a firm resemblance to any of them. Could that be Akane's adopted daughter? No. Manami had said that they were 'expecting', not quite parents yet. But that only left... The door chimed aloud, calling her thoughts from the terrible assumption she almost knew to be true, backed by Manami's sweet voice as she peeked her head round the corner, "Ayukawa-san, could you get that for me?" her hand covered with dish-soap. "Sure." Ayukawa replied, nodding back to the woman as she pushed the tumbler onto the coffee table and stood upright, straiting the loose fit of her slacks. Whoever it was, she might as well look her best. Soko stood at the door, her eyes moving over the bright brass ornamental sculpting that laced the doorbell, and video camera. She pushed her finger into the center of it for a second time as her mind worked through what it was that bothered her. Papa had been so obstinant last night. Even going to the point of jumping out from the bushes and screaming at her date! Seiji had been so deliriously scared that he'd ran through the street, dead and strait, uncaring about at least ten motorists piled up in a jamb. She cursed as the scene crossed her mind. Papa just didn't understand what it was like for a girl her age. She liked Seiji well enough, although sometimes she didn't know why, and surely couldn't think through the butterflies in her stomach. But that was what made it so great, Soko thought: The way he makes me feel. Just because Papa doesn't have anyone to fill his time, doesn't mean he can invade mine! But she'd known as soon as she thought it that her own words had been cruel, even if not heard. Her Papa had done well for her. She never wanted for anything. Except privacy, she muttered. Ever since she could remember it seemed that Papa was always just a step behind her, ready to mend a scratch, or keep errant boys away. The door swung wide, pulling her eyes to a woman that she didn't know, standing in the thresh hold, staring directly into her eyes. The woman almost seemed familiar somehow. Strangely so, even as she spoke up softly, "Yes? May I help you?" Soko, caught by the transition, forced the words up from her belly as she peered around the woman, trying to find out if she'd picked the wrong apartment or not, "Hi... um... is oneechan Manami here?" "Sure." the woman replied, peering at her around a pair of dark sun-glasses, "Please, come in." and moved out of her way. "Mm. Domo." Soko replied, not sure what to say. She had the right apartment, to be sure, but who was.... but never finished the thought. "Ahh! Soko-chan!" Manami smiled brightly as she rushed from the kitchen, throwing her arms around the young girl. "But what are you doing here so early?" she queried, then glared playfully at the girl, "Are you ditching school again?" the mystery woman behind her giving a slight chuckle. "Ee." Soko replied, "Gomen. Don't tell Papa, okay oneechan? He'd have my neck if he found out." then dropped her eyes slowly, feeling more than a bit self-conscious at the presence of more than just her aunt. "It's just that...." and let her voice drop softly into the background. The woman, her long, dark hair bouncing with the flip of a hand, stepped forward slightly, pulling the door open again as she injected her words into the silence, "Oh, I'm sorry. Domo, Manami-chan, but I don't want to put you out. I've got a few things to take care of anyway, so I'll just..." But Manami didn't let her finish, "Oh, I won't hear of it. After all, you haven't met Kyousuke's daughter, Soko-chan." gesturing to Soko. "Nani?!" the woman replied, her eyes agape as she stared at the girl sending slight rumbles of nervous energy through Soko's body. Manami giggled lightly, her hand over her mouth smothering an all out chuckle before she made her two guests so overcome with nerves to speak at all. "Soko-chan. I'd like you to meet a friend of your father's." turning her to face the woman, her dark sunglasses hanging sloppily on the tip of her nose. "Kasuga Soko-chan, meet Ayukawa Madoka." "EEEEeeee?!" Kyousuke moved along the street slowly, his eyes lazily taking in the scenery around him although his mind was far away, deeply entombed in other matters. It had been a hard day for him, as it always was when he and Soko argued about something or other. But this day had been harder, as the argument the night before had gone on much too long to be anything but painful to remember. But nevertheless, his mind wouldn't let it go. It wasn't his fault, to be sure, that Soko meant so much to him. She was his only daughter, and all he had left after her mother had left, screaming at him of the very same charges, which was what had been bothering Kyousuke all day. Could it be that he was being too hard on her? Being too suspicious of the boys she dated? No, he thought, his mind calling up an image of the boy, his arms around Kyousuke's little girl. He was right to be suspicious of a punk like that, with his wild ideas of how he would pay for the things his daughter would need in her lifetime. A band, for heaven's sake! Who, in their right mind, made their living off being in a band?! "Well.." he mumbled, but pushed the thought aside. He was right, damn it. The boy was too young, as was she. Only sixteen and wanting to date all too often. She'd even had a party at the house last month while he'd been in L.A.! He'd come home to find the place wrecked, all the food gone, and his entire collection of DVCD's draped across the floor, including his Ayukawas!! Such was sacrilege in Kyousuke's mind. But that still didn't inhibit the feelings that kept rushing into his mind. No matter how he tried, he couldn't help but love her, and want to understand what she was going through. Hell, he knew how he, and her mother had been during their days in high school, and Jr. High for that matter. He just couldn't condemn her for things that he, himself would, and had done. He scuffed a foot along the concrete, kicking a pebble across the pavement as he chided himself. No, that wouldn't do. She needed structure in her life. Needed his eyes around every corner so she wouldn't make the same mistakes that had dictated his life. She was a Kasuga, and in turn had the Power. Those with the Power didn't just marry anybody. He, himself, felt the point of that statement more than most. Kyousuke stumbled into the Aa Ba Ca Bu, his eyes still on the ground and his mind still on Soko. He'd been walking for hours, but still, despite all his efforts, couldn't even come up with the answer to his problem. Well, he told himself, I really should give her some room, as the door swung back, coming to rest at the jamb with whoosh of air that picked at his hair. He might as well, or he'd stand a chance of losing her as well. And so, with no answer, but a half-formed conviction in mind, he moved slowly back around the bar, and went to work. Master had left much to do when he'd sold the bar to Kyousuke, leaving things exactly the way they'd been so many years ago. But still, that's what Kyousuke liked about the place, even if the mortgage payments were a little too high for his taste. After a good cleaning, and adding on a new washroom in the back, along with a few terminals to replace the old, gas-fire grill, he'd left the place as it was in his memories. Had even commissioned a few high school students to work the counter for him. But his nostalgia had cost him, he reminded himself as he nodded to Ryuu, his waitress who looked and acted more like a boy than he would admit in front of her, and Macky, his part time barkeep who was constantly drawing one mech design or another. Kyousuke had considered talking to the boy about it, but it never really got in the way of his work. Or, at least, not much. But looking at them run around the pub, a smile in Ryuu's eyes, one of the few he'd ever seen, he couldn't bare to let them know how very much he was in debt, and how much longer he could afford to pay them. Kyousuke sighed drearily to himself at the thought of trying to confront either of them with that news. The phone didn't let him finish the thought. Macky picked it up, and waved to him after only a moment of listening to the voice at the other end. "It's Soko." he mouthed, keeping his voice quiet, "Are you here?" Kyousuke stood erect, trying to draw up enough courage to speak to his only child. There'd be a few things that she'd want to talk about and would most certainly start over the phone if she had her way about it. "Un." he nodded, and stepped in front of the one public terminal he'd put in to replace the old-fashion telephone box that had rested in the corner. "Moshi, moshi." and braced himself for impact. "Papa!" she chimed through the receiver, catching Kyousuke off guard. He was sure that he'd get a reaming. Had planned on it, and even, in a way, felt he deserved it, but this was all the more disconcerting. "Are you done there? Manami oneechan wants us to come over for dinner." Kyousuke grimaced at the thought. He knew exactly why Soko had gone to his sister's house, as she'd done so often when they'd had a fight. Knew she'd wanted a safe place to keep their troubles hidden, and in that knew that she wouldn't be able to chide her, or she chide him. He didn't like to let things fester, but it seemed the wisest way. Soko always did know, he degressed, what was best for the two of them. "Hai. Wagata. I've got some paperwork to do, so it'll be an hour or more." He'd have to have time to go home and change clothes at least. His attire, however proper, wasn't something he liked to show in front of Hanawa-san, Manami's husband. "OK!" Soko called back merrily, sowing the seed of worry in Kyousuke's mind. She was much too happy. There was something he didn't know. He could feel it. "Then we'll see you at six. Ja ne, Papa!" and the phone went dead in his hand with a firm click! Kyousuke replaced the phone back in it's cradle and turned, regarding the restaurant about him with it's few customers, and fewer workers. He'd planned on working late with them tonight. More hiding from Soko than anything, he mused. But still, there were things to be taken care of before he could go. H immediately flagged down Mackey. "Oi! Mackey! Ryuu!" and, as the two strode up to him, "Can you work late tonight? Gomen ne, shikashi..." But Mackey knew when he was needed, for he stood upright, his chest out, "I'd be glad to. Been trying to save up for a stereo anyway." And all eyes were on Ryuu as pushed a stray lock of hair that always seemed to be in her way. "Hai." she sighed, "I guess I could close up with Macky." a bit of color finding her cheeks. "Ah, doomo. Saturday it's lunch at the Ambassador!" and smiled as he took off for the office to put the few things in order that must be done before the days end, Mackey returning to his spot behind the bar, and Ryuu back to her rounds. Ryuu turned, coming back from table number four and trying to ignore the lurid stares from behind her as she regarded the young man she'd gotten to know quite well in the last few months. "Don't tell me you're that happy about working late." "Maaa.." Mackey chimed merrily, wiping an invisible spot from a tumbler. "Just got a date with Soko-chan tomorrow night, and then lunch at the Ambassador on Saturday." and regarded his comrade smugly, too unaware of the subtle differences in Ryuu's stature. "Ah! Life is good!" "Ooo! And where are you going to take her? Toys 'R' Us?" she snapped, and rushed away with pad, and pen in hand. "Ee?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Please direct all comments to mattj@icnet.net ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------