A/N: Hullo my gorgeous readers! I have returned with another chapter that stars the oh-so lovely Fuuto! There is a song featured in this chapter. It's called "My, My Love" by Joshua Radin. I recommend that you give a listen sometime before, during or after this chapter. Obviously it's not mandatory ^^;;.

Big thanks to this chapter's beta reader Jordeng2! *confetti!* :D

As for the next chapters, I most likely will be taking a longer time writing them out. Life had decided to pile up a bunch of work for me all at once, so I do not know when the next chapter will be out. I may have to put this project on hiatus. Boooo ;-;. I will let you all know if it comes to that.

Enough with the bad news, off you go to Fuuto's chapter!

Ema stepped out into the hall with a small folder in her arms. She had been tasked by the school his next assignments to do while away on tour. Due to his upcoming tour, the school agreed to accommodate his schedule and send him the work he would miss while away so he didn't fall too far behind. The idol was slated to leave by the end of the week, but he hadn't come to school to get his homework. Ema wanted to believe that he hadn't come in because of work, but a small part of her knew that he just didn't want to do any of his assignments. She could recall numerous times that he had expressed how he thought school was a waste of time and that it wouldn't help with his singing career anyway.

The gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar floated through the empty house and Ema had to strain her ears to hear the lyrics Fuuto was singing.

"My, my love" He breathed, the words dropping softly from his lips, "I've been without you too long."

Ema's brows knit in confusion and her grip on the folder tightened. Why was Futto rehearsing at home? Didn't he have a studio for this? Plus, the song seemed to be outside of Fuuto's typical techno/ pop genre. Ema slid her socked feet across the wooden floor until she was just outside his door. She peeked around the frame just enough to see Fuuto sitting on his bed with a worn acoustic guitar in his lap. A furrow had formed between Fuuto's brows and a frown pulled at his lips. His fingers stilled on the strings and ran through his disheveled hair – he looked like he just woke up from a nap.

He gave an exasperated sigh and started to strum out the opening chords, but his voice stopped short of the first verse. Ema pressed closer to the door; she had never heard him play acoustically and it was captivating. He lost the forceful brashness that made his live concerts so entertaining.

Ema slid closer still, but bumped the door which opened with a mighty creak. Fuuto's head snapped up, his expression morphing from agitated to playful as he watched her gape with the embarrassment of being caught peeping.

"Ohhh? Is nee-chan spying on her brother now? That's supposed to be my job, didn't you know?" He wagged a finger at her and smirked, "Naughty, naughty."

Color rose high on Ema's cheeks and she hid her face behind the folder. It was a good thing that a few of the other brothers were home; it had looked like she really was secretly peeking at her sibling.

"I…I…I…" Ema stammered out, but Fuuto cut her off before she could continue.

"Well, I guess I could invite you in," he said mockingly since she was already inside his room, even if it wasn't by much. Ema stepped farther in and he winked at her, laughing as her blush intensified. "Jeez, Nee-san, you're acting like one of my fangirls."

Trying to ignore the comment, Ema held out the folder. "I-I wasn't trying to…um, I have your homework."

Fuuto narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in contempt. Those damn teachers were so persistent about their homework and grades. Why couldn't they understand that he was a very busy man and didn't have the time, nor the interest, to do such trivial work? Maybe he should simply pay some dweeb to do it for him; he had the money.

"Put it on my desk," he commanded.

Ema set the folder on top of some new music score, the notes and marking a foreign language she could never hope to understand. Come to think of it, she had never been in his room before this, not that she would have ever had a reason – Fuuto was barely home as it was. The white walls were plain and bare, except for the small clock hanging above the desk. A flatscreen TV sat surrounded by an elaborate sound system and her fingers left trails in the thin layer of dust that seemed to coat everything, even the guitar in Fuuto's hands. A half-packed suitcase had been haphazardly kicked under the bed. The closet door was left ajar, revealing its empty interior.

The bedroom left much to be desired and it now made total sense as the why he enjoyed taking naps in the living room.

"Did you write that?" Ema asked to break the awkward silence. She wasn't sure if she should stay or simply leave her brother alone; he seemed very busy.

"It's a cover," Fuuto said, like it should be obvious. Ema blinked at him, her lips slightly parted, poised to ask another question. Fuuto continued before she had the chance, "It's some song written by an American. My manager thought it would help diversify my image and go great with an upcoming drama I'll be in. He told me the song may help my acting career, you know," he waved his hand, "help show directors a softer side; more romantic, I guess." Fuuto plucked idly at the guitar, the notes reflecting his suddenly melancholic mood.

"That's great," Ema said, but Fuuto just glowered and her smile dropped, "Right?"

"Sure," Fuuto grumbled sarcastically, "If I was cast as the lead."

"You're not?" Ema asked surprised.

Fuuto shook his head, "I was cast as a minor role." He rolled his eyes and laced his fingers behind his head. His idiot manager wanted to "play it safe" by starting Fuuto off small before shooting for the silver screen. The young idol felt confident in his acting abilities, but several big name producers wanted him to gain more experience before hiring his as an actor. Fuuto was still a little heated about the decision, though part of him recognized that he should probably start small. Not that he would ever admit to that. He was Asakura Fuuto, number one pop sensation - he could do anything he set his mind to.

Ema fiddled with her fingers nervously, "It's a good start, though, isn't it? I mean…I would watch the show." She offered him a small smile of encouragement.

Fuuto stared at her a moment, wrapping his minds around the thought of her supporting his acting. He knew she and their other siblings already supported his singing and touring, but this was different. This was Ema, in his room, telling him she would support him. His heart did a weird little flip in his chest and his lips tugged upward into a genuine smile for the girl who stood awkwardly in the middle of his room. She understood him, sometimes a little too much. The thought of her watching him act brought him more excitement that he would, could, acknowledge. "Did you want to listen?" Fuuto asked suddenly, not wanting her to leave.

"Oh, um… I don't want to get in your way or anythi-"

"You already interrupted with all that homework business," he snarked, but patted the bed beside him. The brunette hesitated, not wanting to intrude further, but understanding that the spark in Fuuto's eyes was his unspoken desire for her to stay. She sat tentatively on the mattress, her feet tucked under her. Fuuto shifted so that he was facing her, his back leaning against the headboard. With a sly grin, Fuuto began to play. His fingers slid easily across the steel strings, falling into place on the fret board with hardly a thought. His other hand began plucking and strumming to create the appropriate notes.

Then Fuuto began singing, his eyes locked on hers and she was trapped. She tried listening with a critical ear, but wasn't familiar with how the song should sound. Instead, she focused instead on the words and how Fuuto was singing them. The song was sweet, tender even, and Fuuto sung it with finesse, his voice soft. His eyes reflected the loving feeling of the song and she felt her heart tremble as a pink burst across her cheeks.

Finally, he broke eye contact and closed his eyes, falling into the passion of the song himself. Spellbound, Ema let the music sway her and she slowly started rocking back and forth with the tune. From behind his sandy brown hair, Fuuto peered at her relaxed form, a smile playing across his lips. His fingers strummed out the last cord before reaching up and caressing her burning cheek. The last words he sang were a whisper and held a caress of their own.

"But then you came along."

Ema gasped, her eyes locking again with Fuuto's. She tried to pull away, but his nimble fingers glided down her skin and grasped her chin. Embarrassed, Ema tried to look anywhere but at him.

"So what did you think?" Fuuto asked, his voice like caramel, warm and low.

"I-It was beautiful." Her face was flaming scarlet now and Fuuto's lips curled into a wicked smile.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the show." He placed the guitar against the side of the bed where it wouldn't topple over. In a flash, he leaned in so close to Ema that he could have easily kissed her if she hadn't pulled her head out of his grasp and scurried back.

Soon, Ema found herself trapped against one of the large speakers to the massive entertainment system; the one he was using as a makeshift footboard. Fuuto's face was mere inches away from hers. One hand caressed her cheek and while the other was planted firmly on the speaker behind her, keeping her stuck between himself, the speaker, and the wall.

Ema screwed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side, unintentionally exposing the length of her neck to him. Her heart hammered against her ribs when she felt Fuuto brush his lips against her ear.

"Now," he whispered, his breath warm and dangerous, "it's time for my payment."

Ema could only guess at what he wanted, but couldn't find her voice.

Fuuto pulled back slightly, "You didn't think that you would get a private show with one of the most popular idols for free, now did you?" He purred as his eyes traced her delicate features.

"Fuuto…" She made this so easy for him.

"How do you intend to pay me back, hmmmm Nee-san?" He tilted her head so he could capture her eyes. His lips came ever closer to her own and his eyes danced with anticipation. "Because I have some ideas…"

Before he could advance further, a young voice came from the doorway, halting Fuuto in his tracks.

"Fuu-tan?

Wataru stood just inside the open door clutching his stuffed rabbit to his chest. The pink haired boy stared at the two with a curious look in his eyes.

Fuuto snapped his gaze to his youngest brother and scowled — the moment was entirely ruined. With an aggravated sigh he reluctantly fell back to his original spot, leaning against the headboard. Ema exhaled audibly and placed a hand over her chest. She silently thanked Wataru for interrupting when he did.

"What are you doing here, onee-chan?" The small boy asked innocently.

"Nothing," Fuuto scoffed, answering for her. He folded his arms across his chest and he suddenly refused to make eye contact with her.

Without an invitation, Wataru entered the room and bounded over to Ema's side. "Ne, ne, I heard you singing Fuu-tan!" He exclaimed, climbing onto Ema's lap. She giggled and pat him on the head. "It sounded really good. Can you sing it again? Please?"

Fuuto's nose wrinkled. Out of all his brothers, the idol didn't expect the youngest Asahina to be his biggest fan. It was endearing at first, but had quickly grown annoying. Especially since he had just ruined his moment with Ema.

"No,"

"Please!" Wataru begged.

"I said no." Fuuto narrowed his eyes at his youngest brother. "Now, get out. You two are bothering me."

The watery-eyed Wataru pouted and gingerly slipped off Ema's lap. "That's not fair," he said with a sniffle. "You sang to onee-chan but not to me!" Wataru stomped his feet in frustration and stormed out.

"W-wataru!" Ema followed after her crying brother.

Annoyed and alone, Fuuto's lips twisted into a scowl as he got up and slammed his door shut.

"I didn't sing to her," he grumbled to himself, but an image of her serene face as she listened to him perform flashed before his eyes. Fuuto couldn't help the smug feeling that gave him and smiled. It seemed his dear step-sister couldn't escape his charms. Though she also seemed to pluck at his heart strings.

That song had been a pain in the neck for Fuuto. He had felt no love or compassion when playing it when that's what it should have been full of. The song was meant for a highly anticipated drama and the way he had been singing it barely made it passable for a silly high school play. That is, until he played it for Ema.

Fuuto's cellphone began buzzing with his manager's number flashing on the screen. Plopping on his bed, the idol snatched the phone and accepted the call.

Fuuto dropped back on his mattress, already bored, "What?"

"Fuuto," his manager acknowledged, ignoring his rude greeting, "How's the song coming? Any progress?"

He nibbled his bottom lip a moment before answering. He was tempted to proclaim his annoyance with the song, but that wasn't a problem anymore. His muse had returned to him in the form of his step-sister.

"It's…I'm ready. To record, I mean." He heard a great sigh on the other side of the line.

"Good, good. I'll let the studio know and get things set up before you get here."

Fuuto rolled onto his side. "Yeah, sure. Anything else?"

"One thing, yes. You've been having problems with this song for weeks. I thought you were ready to call it quits…What changed?"

The idol ran his fingers through his tousled hair and squeezed his eyes shut. "Nothing. It just finally clicked. Later." Fuuto hung up the call before his manager could get another word in.

Fuuto flicked through the pages on his phone and tapped open the picture app. Amidst the ocean of selfies and promotional photos, he came across a few of Ema. His older brother Hikaru had been generous enough to share them with him. Fuuto clicked on his favorite; Ema smiled from the screen in a light blue dress, her chestnut hair flowing down her shoulders.

Sitting up, he gently propped his phone against his pillow before picking up his guitar again.

Inhaling deeply, Fuuto closed his eyes and began to play the song one more time.