{These characters are not property of me, except for that of Ryuuji. I would n` to claim them as my own. This story may not be used without my permission, and may not be used to make money in any way, shape or form. Characters and certain situations were created by Rumiko Takahashi, so don't try any funny stuff!}
by Lara Bartram
"Listen to me. I'm only going to say this ONCE more." She held up her index finger for emphasis. "You are not going. You are only 13 and that is far too young to be going to downtown Tokyo at night."
"But Mom..."
"None of that! It's final. This discussion is over!"
"But Yujiro..."
"Don't give me any bullshit about Yujiro. You are not Yujiro and I am not Yujiro's mother. If I was, I would have whipped his butt into shape a long time ago."
"But Dad..."
"Damn it, Ryuuji. Your father is brainless when it comes to you. He'd give you a nuclear missile if you asked for it. Now why don't you just go to your room and end this conversation right now." She was angry, but sad as well. She didn't want to fight with Ryuuji.
Ryuuji opened his mouth to say something.
"So help me, Ryuuji. Go to your damn room."
"Yes, Mom." He hung his head, ashamed, and walked away.
"I heard you downstairs. He was putting up quite a fight."
"I swear, I don't know what's gotten into him lately. And you know you don't help at all."
"I know. But I just can't..."
"Me either, but if I let him go and something happens... I could never forgive myself." She turned to her side in bed and switched off the light. "I just couldn't live with myself."
***
"You know what? I don't care. I don't make the mess, I only clean it up. And you are that mess. I'm calling it all in. Oh, but don't you know? I CAN do that. No... Thank you." Nabiki hung up the phone, feeling inordinantly pleased with herself. "Well that went easier than I planned..."
***
"Mom! How could you?" How could she DO something like that? "You know he was my friend!"
"And I have nothing against him. His father, on the other hand, was causing problems. He had to be dealt with. I'm sorry your friend got caught in the middle."
"No you're not! You don't care about how I feel at all! All you care about is money! I hate you!" Ryuuji's anger was overpowering. "Why do you ruin my life? Why can't you do anything good for a change? I hate you!"
"Oh, I see. I should just sell everything so we can play saints. Well, why don't you give me back the CD player, TV and computer you got for your last birthday and I'll see what I can do for your friend's father? How does that sound?"
Ryuuji stared at her. She was right, of course. But it just wasn't fair! He turned and started to leave.
"And just where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to Aunt Akane's. She doesn't try to ruin my life." He walked out, leaving the door wide open.
Nabiki walked to the door to watch his figure quickly move out of sight. "Oh yeah, just run off to Akane! Just remember she's not your mother! She'll never take care of you the way I do!" she called after him.
He turned a corner and was gone.
"Damn kid," Nabiki muttered and shut the door.
***
"She does it on purpose! She always does stuff to hurt me."
"Now you know that's not true." Akane set down a glass of lemonade for him. "She wouldn't do anything to hurt you on purpose. She's just been through a lot..." She sat down next to him.
"I know it's hard for you. Trust me, it was hard when we were younger. But things get better, really they do. You just need to understand how important her job is to her, and that it allows her to take care of you how she wants to. She wants to do everything for you that she can."
"You really think so?"
Akane nodded. "Ever since... your brother, it's the only thing she thinks about. She's only worried about you." She looked seriously at Ryuuji. "And don't take this wrong, but I think she's been too soft on you. She always let you get away with things that now you're a little... out of control. Of course, I'm sure a large part of that comes from being her son."
She leaned back and smiled. "And she's right, you know. Tokyo isn't exactly a vacation spot anymore."
Ryuuji rolled his eyes. "Not you, too."
***
"I'm home," he called hesitantly. He knew he was in trouble.
"It's about time," Nabiki said, walking out of her study. "I didn't want you doing chores in the middle of the night."
Ryuuji lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom. It was a mean thing for me to say."
"Yes, it was. Now why don't you get started on the dishes."
"Yes, Mom," Ryuuji answered then walked dejectedly into the kitchen after removing his shoes.
Nabiki watched him go, then went back to her study. She had one more person to deal with... Mr. Koyama should have learned not to write checks his ass couldn't cover.
***
"Ryuuji."
Ryuuji startled. He hadn't heard her at all. He looked up from the table he had been cleaning. "Yes, Mom?"
"Why don't you head up to bed now. It's getting late."
Ryuuji stood up straight, feeling his back protest. "OK." He trudged off, making his way up the stairs.
Nabiki watched him ascend, noting his slumped shoulders. She knew he would be back to his normal, mouthy self in the morning. He was as hard to keep down as his father.
She watched some wetness hit her hand. She hadn't realized there were tears running down her face and dropping onto her hand. Ryuuji was impossible to keep down like his father; Ryoichi hadn't been so fortunate. He had been more like Nabiki. She sat down heavily in a chair, stunned by her sudden memories.
Ryoichi had the hair, like a raven at midnight, of his father, but his eyes had been wide and innocent like Nabiki's when she was younger. He had been lithe and agile like a cat. Even at the age of 7, the potential could be seen in him to be a fabulous athlete. He had spurned sports of any type and martial arts, though. More than anything, he had liked drawing and painting.
Draw and paint. Nabiki went back to her study and opened a drawer of her desk. She pulled out a thick stack of papers and stared at the top sheet. It was one of his later drawings. He wasn't all that good, but he had enjoyed drawing immensely. She was looking at a race car, drawn in three quarters view; it was done simply but with great effort.
She still could remember the book Ryoichi had seen it in, and how he had thought it was so neat. She could hear the thudding footsteps as he came down the stairs as fast as he could with the paper gripped tightly in his hand.
"Look! Look what I drew!" he would yell.
Nabiki would be feeding Ryuuji or doing work when he would come running in, waving the paper in the air. He had been so spirited, so full of energy.
He... He had really been something special. Not just because he was her first born son; there was just so much she could still remember about him. She could remember every detail about the time she and her husband had made love to get Ryoichi. She could close her eyes and, in perfect detail, picture the hospital and her entire family, all the smells and sounds fresh in her mind, the day she had given birth to Ryoichi.
Every single minute detail about his abbreviated life... She could remember them all. His first word, the day he took his first step, his first day of school, his first birthday, his last birthday... The list went on and on.
She smiled to herself. It was a smile without humor; a bitter and lonely smile. She could reminisce herself into insanity and what good would it do? Slowly, gathering her strength, she put the pictures back in the desk. She couldn't bare looking at them. Then, with great difficulty, she pushed all thoughts of Ryoichi from her mind.
Why? Why anything? She just didn't care anymore. Some days it got to be too much and she would want to... Well, she didn't want to kill herself, but she wished a luxury liner would fall from the sky and land on her.
She looked at her desktop. There was a file there, looking back at her. She opened it and it greeted her happily with 'PAYMENT DUE: 300,725 yen'. Small change really, but it was a week late.
Then she smiled genuinely and picked up the phone. A little midnight intimidation would get that payment to her much quicker than any of her more orthodox collection methods.
A slurred, tired sounding voice answered the phone. "'lo?"
"Don't forget I know where you and your family lives," Nabiki said with as much malice as she could find in her heart, and hung up.