A/N: Before anything else, I'd like to warn you guys that this is an unedited version of the chapter. I know I should upload the final version but I'm afraid I won't have the time to edit it for the following months. If grammatical errors outweighs the joy of reading, then please don't read it and just wait for the final version. I Just wanted to upload this for the sake of those who can't wait.

Chapter 6

A Heart That Beats For You

The Past

Otani Atsushi was not an eloquent man. Sure, he has a quick wit and an honest disposition, but partner that with a huge mouth that spouts words faster than his brain can filter would most likely make him tactless.

Nonetheless, having this-less than socially accepted-trait would not entirely brand him as the bad guy. As far as his family and friends are concerned, Otani is a plethora of hues; you can't just paint his persona with plain charcoal-black and white were not his colours. No. With Otani everything is complicated and you can never peg him as good or evil-it has to be in between...

...which leads us to his current predicament. Taking the form of an auburn-haired siren, Koizumi Risa, has recently relinquished her title as his girlfriend. Brooding over their breakup he paced back and forth in his dorm, stopping only for a bathroom break here and there.

"God dammit!" he howled as he stubbed his toe against the foot of his shared double decked bed.

Jumping wildly, he grabbed his throbbing foot; hopping in circles desperately trying to alleviate the pain. Sitting unceremoniously on the carpeted floor he stared at the offensive bed balefully. Stretching his left leg he brought over his other limb to rest across his knee. Pulling his right ankle closer to his nose he fingered his injured toe.

He gave out a hiss when he touched a tender part of his toe, which was starting to swell like a tomatoe. Gently lowering his foot on the carpet, he swore again. Good thing his roommate was out for the night or he would've earned a reprimanding glare from all the cursing and shouting he's been doing.

"Stupid giant," he muttered under his breath as he inspected the damage, "wouldn't even let me explain myself."

His eyes fluttered to his study table where an alarm clock stood. It was almost ten in the evening and he had yet to study for his test tomorrow. He was supposed to hit the books right after his class, but was postponed when he got a call from her.

It started out nice, she was in a good mood-ecstatic, even-as she described how her day went. Then the conversation steered towards a different direction. All of a sudden she was telling him about her preparations for their trip. He frowned. Strange. He didn't recall anything about a trip. He almost asked her about it when realization dawned on him.

Shit.

Their trip to Hokkaido, which conveniently escaped his mind, was scheduled the same day he made an appointment with his thesis advisor.

When he told her she flipped out. Risa started yelling over the phone, accusing him of being a heartless good-for-nothing oaf. Otani reasoned with her-told her all about his piling schoolwork, exams and papers he needed to write. He groused about the long hours he stayed stuck at the library reading tons of books that were taller than him.

That seemed to douse her fire and she was beginning to sympathize with him, but things took a turn for the worse when he unintentionally made an insensitive comment about her lax schedule; thus trivializing her problems at school. Risa silenced at that.

Otani tried to get her to talk and did what he usually does to get a rise from her-that is to insult her. He called her names and inadvertently mentioned Kate's name into the conversation. Finally, he got something out from it, only it wasn't what he was expecting.

A sob escaped Risa's lips. Her angry ridden huffs were slowly changing to erratic hiccups and wet sniffing. He felt a twist at his heart.

She was crying.

What was wrong with him? He knew how she felt about her bombshell of a thesis mate, yet his mouth wouldn't cooperate and took the form of a machine gun as it spewed out words incessantly.

Risa was statuesque, she had the perfect face and body of a runway model. But she was insecure.

And what better way to fuel that insecurity?

Pit her up against a woman bursting with confidence.

Kate, the savvy socialite in his year was the very epitome of female coquettishness; with her manicured nails, fine line of arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, burnished golden locks and her bountiful br- err... curves, any male would assume she's a flirt.

However, this wasn't the case for Kate. Kate is not your typical ditzy blonde; she's smart, opinionated and very passionate about her beliefs. Yes, they were close, but his feelings for her are purely platonic...

But Risa didn't know that, and the more promises he breaks, the more doubtful he appears to be. Why can't she believe him? He was having trouble juggling tests, unyielding professors and deadlines as it is; he can't even iron his own clothes or brush his hair for god's sake. How she manages to think he had the time-and the energy-to have an affair was mind boggling.

He didn't want to admit it, but it hurt. It hurts that she doesn't trust him-that she didn't have enough faith in his feelings. Granted that saying the 'L' word wasn't an often occurence, but she should've know better. Otani was just about as smooth as a sandpaper when it comes to articulating his arduous sentiment.

With a heavy sigh he stood up and made a move to reach for his backpack. Rummaging through his things he spotted his cellphone and took it. Flipping it open the entire screen came to life and he was greeted by a picture of him and Risa together. He regarded the picture with a rueful smile. Surely, the gods were mocking him.

He was grinning from ear to ear-eyes crinkled with a youthful glee-as he threw an arm over Risa's shoulders. Risa was hugging him around his waist; her head tilted pressing her lips against his dimpled cheek. They look every bit as happy in that picture. A sense of longingness bloomed in Otani's chest.

He missed this, he missed those days of pure bliss whenever they were together. He missed their petty fights and their unconventional terms of endearment...

... but above all he missed her.

Putting his hands in his head, he burried his fingers in his thick hair and tugged at his mane. Damn! He was such a jerk.

What kind of a boyfriend makes fun of her girlfriend's shortcomings? What was he? Ten? Did his stunted growth also infect his logic? And what kind of a man would whine and bitch about his responsibilities that he so willingly chose to accept? Responsibilities that would help him-mould him-into the perfect and functional adult that he would become in the future.

He released his hold on his head. This won't do. He needed to correct his mistake. With renewed vigor, he dialed his professor's number. He wasn't going to give up yet. Not when his heart still beats for her. He will fix this no matter what. Grades be damned!

The Present

I was standing in the middle of a busy studio brimming with tall, beautiful and exotic people-PAs hot on their trail with their luggage and whatnots.

Today we are shooting a commercial for a foreign company-Suede. The said company, which I have worked with in New York boasted a wide range of cosmetic products-from anti-ageing creams, facial wash, whitening soaps, and to a full-blown line of makeup collection. Right now Suede is trying to penetrate the Japanese market, starting with its brand of lipsticks.

When my good friend, Richard Andrews-CEO of Suede-heard about my moving back to Japan, he made the necessary arrangements for me to be a part of the company's advertising campaign; which means I get to call the shots with regards to the overall theme of the advertisements.

Borrowing inspiration from the heavens, we decided to make the models emulate angels; thus, using their gentle and pure quality to make the striking colors of the lipstick pop.

With the theme decided, I quickly finished each models' look-working my brush with ferocity until their faces transformed from blank canvases into celestial beings. I was almost done with all of them, except for one.

Hands in both sides of my hip I studied the misplaced moustache on a scantily clad female model. Watching me through her thick false eyelashes, she wore a bored expression.

"Are we done yet?" she asked, looking like she would rather be anywhere else but here.

I summoned every ounce of my receding patience and smiled, "Your makeup should be done in an hour. I just have to figure some things out." And by 'some things' I meant the hairs sticking out from above her lips.

"Whatever, just make it quick," she scoffed, flinging her hair back to the side with ease.

Who died and made her the queen? I tried to hide a scowl. I hate working with arrogant and pompous people who only knows how to gripe and treat people with contempt. They are so self centered that they neglect others around them-and this model was no exception.

Blowing air into my bangs I turned and motioned towards my assistant. "Hey, Noriko, can you come here for a sec?" I yelled.

The twenty year old minx lifted her head from another male model. Smiling at the half naked adonis she patted his shoulder, "Be right back, George," she purred as she sets down her stippling brush and made a beeline for me. "What's up?"

"Please tell me you know of a way to conceal..." I contemplated before continuing, "...whiskers?" My eyes darting to the facial hairs growing on the prima donna's upper lip. Because of the product, the camera would most likely focus on the face, more specifically on the lips...and never in my life have I seen a lipstick commercial with women sporting beards or moustaches on them.

I'm inventive and a bit eccentric but I don't think I could pass this one up as one of the oddities of the fashion industry-well, one that would at least sell.

Noriko arched a brow and switched her gaze from me to the person sitting in front of us. "Hide what? Oh...oh I see..." her eyes widened. Then out of the blue she snorted, "The hell's wrong with this one?" she whispered with barely contained mirth.

The model turned her head upwards, "Is there something wrong?" she challenged, raising a brow.

We both shrank, "No. Nothing, I was just-ah, deciding what lipstick you should wear!" Noriko chittered.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and before Noriko could add anything else I grabbed her arm and pulled us out of earshot.

"Shhhh..." I gently chastised, "she's going to hear you." Sparing a furtive glance over my shoulder, I checked to see if she heard. The lanky model scowled suspiciously at us and did nothing but crossed her impossibly long legs.

I cocked my head in her direction and gave her a fake smile, "Excuse us just a minute, Tiffany. I swear this won't take long."

She responded with a grunt and I turned my head back to Noriko, "It's not that bad, right?"

"Not that bad?" she frowned, "Are you kidding me? It's like one of her eyebrows fell on her lips," she jested. I almost bit my tongue off from holding in my laughter.

Noriko worked herself into composure, "Okay, okay, okay. I think I got this," she said pensively, then her eyes lighted up like a lightbulb, "Why don't we shave it. Or better yet, wax it?" she grinned mischievously.

I quirked a brow, liking her idea, but thought better of it. "Nah, she doesn't want to take it off."

Suddenly, I was jolted by the buzz of my phone.

"Seriously?" Noriko chance a glance behind me-letting her eyes wander appraisingly at the model. "We have our work cut out for us."

By this time I was fishing for the smartphone in the pocket of my jeans-half aware Noriko's jokes. "She probably thinks it completes her androgynous aura-whatever that is," she quipped.

I smirked then darted my eyes breifly on my smartphone. An unknown number registered on the screen.

"Maybe we can bleach it?" Noriko suggested, still looking at the queer woman.

"Yeah, sure..." I answered distractedly, "...listen, I need to get this, but, please, just do whatever it is you think you can do to cover it. I don't want any of that hair on my angels' lips. It just doesn't go with the flow," I threw my hand in the air to emphasize my point.

"Roger that," Noriko saluted in assent and trotted back to Tiffany.

I looked at the phone in my hand and swiped at the touchscreen. "Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Good evening ma'am, is this Koizumi Risa?" the disembodied voice of a man spoke.

"Yes, this is her. May I know whose calling?" The line was unstable and I could hear his voice breaking in choppy sentences that I could barely understand.

"This is Ta- Soujiro...calling on behalf...Wakamiya Medical Hospital..." my eyes narrowed-straining my ears to catch some of the words, "...son, Koi- Yuuta is... here..."

"What?!" My stomach churned painfully. Hearing the words son and hospital set my alarms off.

"How...W-when? Is he okay?" I sputtered.

I got another robotic response and I bolted for the door to get a better reception-bumping against a few bodies on my way out. My mind was racing a hundred miles per minute as I thought of a million reasons how Yuuta could have ended in the hospital.

"Well, he's...staying...broken bones... in danger..." the man continued, but too much static was filling my ears and I never got to hear the end of it when my phone went dead.

"Shit!" I almost flung my smartphone in frustration. Expelling all of the air in my lungs, I exhaled loudly-slowly calming my nerves. Glancing back at the phone I clicked my tongue. Just my luck for forgetting to charge it this morning. Suddenly, my mind recalled pieces of the conversation.

broken bones...

in danger...

Those words filled me up with so much dread and it got my heart pounding loudly against my chest; my insides twisting in knots. How did this happen? First her mom, and now her son. Were the gods testing her? Was this her punishment for not telling him about Yuuta? I shook my head to clear my thoughts. No, you can't go there, I warned myself. I willed my mind to squish that notion before it spread all over.

With a one-tracked mind I spun on my heels and went inside the studio. My eyes scanned the room landing hard on my handbag. I made a dash forward grabbing my things before a hand stopped me.

"Hey, where are you going?" Noriko quizzed.

I raised my head meeting her gaze, my eyes were glassy from unshed tears and my breath came in shallow bursts of air. When Noriko caught wind of my emotion she held my hand, "Is it your mom?"

"No," I choke out blinking back tears. I was shaking and Noriko must have noticed it as she led me to the nearest chair. She was about to ask me more but stopped when Tiffany approached us.

"Excuse me? Are you guys done yet?" she loomed over us haughtily. "I've been sitting here for ages, my butt hurts and my neck is sore. I was supposed to be done thirty minutes ago," she complained in her nasaly voice. Jutting her hips to the side, she continued, "I'm paid to model and endorse, not watch all this drama unfold. You have one job..." she raised a finger, "...one job, and you can't even do it right."

At this Noriko whipped her head upwards, "Look here she-male," she pointed at her chest, "my friend here is very upset...and unless you want to keep your spot here in the commercial-much less your job as a model-I'd suggest you zip your mouth and walk away."

Tiffany's mouth drops open from shock.

"And FYI," Noriko added hotly, "you might want to shave off your moustache," Tiffany gasped, "it doesn't really suit you."

The entire room went silent from Noriko's outburst. Tiffany went beet red and steaming mad but she took Noriko's advice and shut her mouth. With a bruised ego she strutted back towards her seat.

Noriko smiled triumphantly and returned her attention to me, "Risa, what's the matter? Who called you?"

I cleared my throat, "It's the hospital... Yuuta is in the hospital and-and I think he was in an accident."

"Oh no," Noriko's hand went to her mouth. "You sure you can drive alone? I mean I can come with you if you want?"

"No. No," I protested, "Jiro needs you," I cocked my head towards the photographer. "You're the only one I can trust to oversee things around here. So stay, don't worry about me," I gently pleaded.

She was skeptical-indecision marred her countenance. She was about to say something but I beat her to it, "Noriko, it's okay, you still need to bleach Tiffany's moustache, remeber?" I peered over her shoulder to the pouting model, "and we're already behind schedule."

Noriko sighed in resignation, "Okay fine. But if you need anything-anything at all-don't hesitate to call me."

I smiled weakly and took my handbag, "Of course."

A little later in the evening I found myself speeding through the expressway with my old red beelte. The road was free-except for a few cars that littered across the expanse of the highway. With both hands gripping the wheels I recalled the last conversation I had with my son. He was so happy and excited; a cherubic smile lighted his face as he gave me a hug. My vision blurs with unshed tears and I rub it away with the back of my hand. I can't break down right now. I need to be strong for Yuuta, I scolded myself.

Strengthening my resolve I took a right turn and exited the expressway; the road was much thinner in these rural parts and the ride was less swifter. The scenery gradually changed into fields of greener pastures-its luxuriant crops unnoticeable in the blackness of the night.

A few more blocks I noticed the ascend of a three story building. It was well illuminated and the white walls reflected the fluorescent lights hanging at the facade. A sign bearing the words Wakamiya Medical Hospital was perched on top of the structure.

I veered off to the road and rolled my car to a stop in the open space beside the hospital. Slinging my handbag on my shoulder I immediately opened the door and stepped outside. The cold air kissed my face making me shudder. I regretted not bringing a jacket or a cardigan so instead I brought my arms across my chest and rubbed my palms against them to produce heat. Jogging towards the double doors I pushed my way inside. I let my gaze wander the interior of the building.

It was quaint and very homey for a hospital. The cold and clinical feel that I usually get from these institutions was toned down by the soft tones of yellow and brown painted on the accent walls.

The receiving area was situated in the middle of the open space; purple couches were backed up against the wall to provide visitors with their much needed comfort. Further into the area was a counter, which was manned by a nurse. Her head was bowed, a frown encroaching her face as she perused a manual-cross-referencing it to the monitor in front of her.

I strode towards her and tapped the counter. That got her attention and she immediately dropped the frown. "Hi, how can I help you?" she asked warmly.

"Uhm...Do you have a patient here named Koizumi Yuuta?" I said breathlessly.

"Just a moment please," she was typing at the keyboard, her eyes going back and forth as she searched through the names.

I shifted from foot to foot-anxiously waiting for the details.

"How are you related to the patient?"

"I'm her mother."

She returned her eyes to the monitor again. I was antsy and was ready to bolt, my patience was strung too tight. I needed to see my son right now. "Miss, can you please hurry up?" I urged

I know I was being difficult but I didn't care. We're talking about my son here, nothing takes precedence.

The nurse raised a brow, "Room 2e," she said flatly.

Without saying my thanks I sprinted towards the stairwell; my feet pounding mercilessly againts the flight of stairs, not stopping to take a breath. I was panting by the time I reached the second floor; cocking my head to the right I followed the sign where '2a-2f' was written. Passing through a hallway I examined the numbering on the doors-using it as a guide.

2a...2b...2c...2d

Aha!

I yanked the door open to Room 2e, "Yuuta! Yuuta?" I cried frantically, eyes skimming around the room as I took note of a few details.

There were two beds inside; a thick white curtain separating each patient. I couldn't see past the first bed as the curtains were drawn down; granting the tenant an ample amount of privacy afforded by a shared room.

I would have to transfer my son to a private room once I'm done examining him, I thought dimly. My gaze flitted to the next furniture near the window; eyes landing on the the form scooted on the far side of the wall. His whole body was covered in blankets-forming a cocoon around him. I couldn't see anything except for a thick massive ginger hair sprouting on the space above his head.

I felt my chest constrict and then swell with relief. Without thinking I pounced on the bed and wrapped my arms around him-tight.

"Yuuta?" I muffled, burrowing my face on his hair. "What happened to you? Are you alright? I was so worried." The tears that I was keeping at bay broke like a dam-streaming down my cheeks and soaking the blankets that covered him.

I heard him give a squeak and I loosened my hold, "I'm sorry baby, did I squeeze too hard?" I asked lifting the blankets off him.

The garment slid down his shoulders, then his chest before stopping at his lap.

I inhaled sharply.

"Hey mom!" a head popped out behind the curtain covered bed. "I think you got the wrong person," Yuuta chuckled, the same ginger-colored hair slipping down his forehead and into his eyes.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Katsu-sensei," he introduces as he stepped in beside me. "Katsu-sensei, this is my mom," he smiled proudly.

I turned my head to the side-my eyes widening into saucers. Sitting on the bed with a sling on his arm was a ghost from my past. His eyes bored into me-confusion written all over his face.

"Otani," I breathed nervously.

A/N: I'd like to thank my readers-especially those who followed, favorited and reviewed my fanfic. You have no idea how much it means to me. I was about to give up on this story, but knowing that you guys are still there cheering me on, gives me the strength and motivation to write. Alas! After five chapters Risa and Otani finally meets! So... What do you guys think about this chapter? Comments are always welcome!