Ginoza laid there, unable to move, unable to swallow, unable to think. The room was as white as the cotton balls lingering in his mind, slowly eating away at his consciousness. He couldn't feel anything, not yet.
The pain would come later, he was sure. As would the denial. Because this wasn't real. This couldn't be real. His arm was just fine. There wasn't a heavy, hunk of metal attached to his body. His father was still alive. Still agitating him with his existence. Still stinking of the whiskey and the cigarettes and the failure at being a father. He was still there to guide him and firmly remind him when enough was enough.
Kougami didn't leave.
Yeah, the doubt would come later. Along with the anger at himself. At Makishima. At Kougami. There was already a rage settled low within him. It had been skulking around since the beginning, pacing like a caged beast that was ready to tear itself out. It demanded to know why. Why he couldn't ever have something good – something real. Why his father had to cloud his hue so dark from return. Why Sasayama had to die and change Ginoza's relationship with his partner forever. Why-
Ginoza took a breath, staring at the white ceiling - cold and distant.
Ginoza wasn't sure who he would bargain with. He didn't believe in God. He wasn't sure what he truly believed in. He believed in the facts, in the evidence. In what was concrete and solid in front of him.
He wasn't sure he believed in his father anymore.
He wasn't sure he believed in Kougami anymore.
The depression stage would be easy to deal with. It would be like a close friend coming back for a visit. A visit that would leave him sobbing and shaking and clutching onto his arm while trying to break the hideous reminder apart. Because the imposter would be nothing but that, a reminder of what he had lost. Instead of a real arm and a real father and a real Kougami, Ginoza would have a fake arm. Yes, he would gladly welcome that all too real hollowness he was used to.
But for now, Ginoza just laid there, staring up into the nothingness that was his life. There were thoughts that flitted through, here and there. Memories, warm and frigid. He didn't allow himself to dwell on his father. That past history was too much. It was always too much.
So Ginoza let his thoughts drift to better memories. Well, maybe not always better, but they reminded him of the life he had once had and should have cherished. The life he could have had and should have strode for. Of the fondness he felt for that token crooked smile. That wild, mess of hair. That irrepressible smell of ash. Those incredible steel gray eyes. That fascinating focus and whit. That impossible strength and confidence.
The best partner he could have ever hoped for.
The best friend he had loved since forever.
The man he would never see again.
Ginoza stared at the pitiful lump on the floor, simply blinking dumbly at the guy who had only moments ago been knocking his fist into his face something fierce. A drop of blood fell onto his hand, awakening him from his stupor. Sliding his forearm beneath his nose, Ginoza let his gaze slip to the new teen before him.
Kougami Shinya. Ginoza recognized the guy from class. He seemed intelligent, easily answering whatever questions the teachers threw at him. He liked to read, too, as he had a different book every time Ginoza spotted him outside of class. Ginoza also noticed that he didn't seem to care much for the other students around him, despite the easy smile and the effortless charm he used on classmates when approached.
What Ginoza didn't know about the guy, was why he had just knocked out one of his most aggressive bullies. A hand was held in front of his face and Ginoza looked warily from the blood smeared limb and into the eyes of its owner. It was only with minor trepidation that he took the proffered hand and let it lift him easily off the ground.
"You okay?" Kougami watched him give a slow nod in response before his eyes slid back over to the broken man before him. Faintly, Kougami wondered if the guy was afraid of him now, the look in his eyes certainly made it seem that way. But then that look was gone, replaced by a stern gaze that was directed at him.
Ginoza wasn't entirely sure what had happened here. Was he getting a new bully in exchange for the old one? Or was this some form of charity? Because he didn't need anyone's charity. "What did you do that for?"
Kougami shrugged, still keeping his eyes trained on the smaller man before him.
Ginoza Nobuchika. Kougami had also taken notice of his fellow classmate. It seemed that all he did besides fend off the lowlifes of the school, was study. He had a tremendous amount of focus and a killer work ethic – if his test scores had anything to say about him. He wasn't the friendliest of people, but as Kougami had continuously heard the gossip about him and had seen how he was treated, he really couldn't blame the guy. He wore the frown on his face like a shell, a protective barrier just like the glasses that hid any real piece of the Ginoza that wasn't the hardened loner book worm.
"'Cause I could. I don't like pompous thugs who torment others for no real reason." And having a latent criminal for a father was no reason at all.
Charity, then. Ginoza let out a sigh and gave the punk on the floor one last glance before he turned and began his usual walk towards the nurse's office. "Thanks." He didn't spare Kougami another look as he continued forward. He didn't need anyone's help, anyone's pity.
That was supposed to have been the last time he would have spoken to Kougami. The cold shoulder and half assed show of gratitude should have been enough to let the guy know that he wasn't interested in any random acts of kindness. He just wanted to be left alone. But that was too much to wish for, it appeared, as his new acquaintance had chosen to sit across from him at lunch.
Kougami considered taking up his usual seat outside on the bench where he could normally get in a good read while consuming the cafeteria's slop, but then his eyes caught sight of lonely little Ginoza, solemnly chewing the sandwich of his packed lunch. Their earlier interaction should have put Kougami off, but instead it only intrigued him more.
"What are you doing?"
Kougami looked up to acknowledge the question, looking at him like it was obvious. "Eating," he replied simply, the metal chair scraping loudly against the floor as he sat down. "I'm Kougami, by the way. Kougami Shinya." He held out his hand, yet again, only mildly surprised as it was ignored this time.
"Ginoza Nobuchika."
"I know." The shock on Ginoza's face was severe enough to rival his earlier expression when Kougami had punched that asshole's face in. Kougami quite liked the expression on Ginoza. It was a welcome change from the usual. Vaguely, he wondered what other expressions he could pull from him. What exactly was hidden under all of that armor?
Kougami tried again, hitting his mark spot on for the seventh time in a row and watched as the paper ball he'd been tossing at the back of Ginoza's head bounced back onto his desk and into his hands. He knew he was ignoring him. Ginoza sat rigidly in his seat, almost painfully regal in his position. With each hit, he got tenser. On a normal day, Kougami would be amused, but right then, he was just irritated.
When the eighth strike heeded no results, he sat forward and began to poke and prod at the back of his agitating friend's shoulder with the point of his pencil. He was not at all surprised that their teacher hadn't caught him yet. While being rather nice on the eyes, the woman was an oblivious idiot who was a textbook teacher. Kougami did not care for teachers so strict on the curriculum, yet so uninterested in their students.
In his growing impatience, Kougami gave a poke that ended up being much more like a stab, eliciting an aggravated hiss from Ginoza. Finally. He had gotten his attention. Ginoza turned around slowly, tension bunched up in his brows as he glared at Kougami through his lenses.
"What," he hissed.
"Damn, Gino. I was about ready to serenade you if it would get your attention."
His eye twitched. "Please, never do that."
"We need to talk."
Ginoza's jaw clenched as he had known that this had been the reason behind all of the pestering. He considered Kougami, the concern in his eyes, before giving him a small, curt nod and turning back around.
When class finished, Kougami had practically dragged Ginoza outside before rounding on him. "Why haven't you been answering my calls or messages? You're ignoring me. Why?"
Ginoza's hands clasped around his arms, gaze falling from Kougami's. He knew ignoring Kougami had been a bad choice. But what was the worst that could have happened? Kougami finally realizes just how useless Ginoza is and walks away? Big deal. Everyone left eventually. What was one more person?
"I thought we were over this." Kougami thought that maybe after all of this time, he was finally beginning to break into his shell. Slowly, but surely, Kougami was peeling back layer after layer and he was only becoming more fascinated by the person he was finding underneath.
They'd spent the past few months since their rocky start getting to know each other, letting each other in. Kougami had gotten to see Ginoza's coin collection, watched his mask slip and heard his voice go just a little horse as he'd talked about how his father had given him his first coin, an American dime. He'd watched Ginoza tend to his mother's garden while he studied, saw how Ginoza seemed to relax, his bitter frown falling into an eased smile as he hummed lightly when he thought Kougami was too engrossed in his homework to notice. He had even gotten to see Ginoza laugh. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen, the way his eyes lit up. And he would never forget the sound. "I thought we were friends, Gino?"
There was that nickname again…
Kougami's tone had Ginoza's eyes snapping up to meet his. It sounded like he was… almost… hurt. But that would be ridiculous. "We are," he answered, a little more than uncertain. He supposed that what they had would be considered something of a friendship. He had gotten to know Kougami more than anyone else.
He had watched him box, something Kougami considered relaxing and stimulating all at the same time. He had even been coerced into training with him, a time or two. Ginoza now knew that Kougami liked to read fiction, exploring worlds far beyond his own, outside the little box they were kept in - or so Kougami would say. And he knew that, for some reason, Kougami seemed to brighten whenever he was around. That cool disinterest that the man usually held was dulled when in his company, especially when Ginoza would allow himself to relax, because that was easier around Kougami.
Or maybe he was imagining things.
"Then why have you been ignoring me?" They stood there for a few minutes in silence, Ginoza staring down at his shoes while Kougami stared at him. It took a few moments of really looking at him, but Kougami saw that he was shaking. Ginoza had his arms around himself, fingers clenched in the fabric of his jacket, like he was holding himself together.
"I wasn't trying to."
"Bullshit," Kougami snapped, and he knew it was the wrong move the second he said it.
Ginoza's head jerked up, anger flaring in his eyes, mixed with the overwhelming amount of sorrow there. "It has nothing to do with you, Kougami!"
Kougami couldn't watch him walk away. If he let him leave, he knew that would be the end of it. There would be no more layers to pull back. No more sides of this intriguing human being to get to know. No more Ginoza Nobuchika.
Hands yanked Ginoza back around and suddenly he was swallowed up in Kougami's arms, his strength and warmth securing him there. For a long, horrifying moment, Ginoza didn't know what to do. Of course, these moments were becoming increasingly common when around Kougami. Ginoza found that he was constantly caught off guard by the other man.
"Something's wrong." The trembling was back, so Kougami held on tighter. "If something's going on with you, then it has everything to do with me. What's wrong?"
Ginoza took a shaky breath before his arms cautiously made their way around Kougami as well. He let one lone tear slip down his cheek, but kept his voice even. "My mom's gone."
Kougami had never known exactly what he wanted to do with his life. It was a heavy question that he had faced with a nonchalant shrug. He had always thought that he would just let himself carry on wherever he was meant to go. That he would eventually find something so fantastic, so amazing that he would clutch onto it and never let go. Or that he would just wander. Wander and test the limits and boundaries of the world around him, breathing in and feeling all that there was, all that there could be.
It was an extremely childish and romanticized outlook on his future, but Kougami could never really envision anything else. A normal and boring nine to five wasn't what he wanted. Actually, it was how he envisioned his soul dying. Crushed by the dull, mundane world that would murder any whimsy from his life. That would slice off the wings he could grow.
And then Ginoza had told him that he wanted to join the CID of the Public Safety Bureau. It had been quite jarring, considering his father. Kougami had thought that Ginoza would have wanted nothing to do with that life, as he had shown nothing but disdain and maybe a small amount of stifled dejection towards the man and the system that had locked him up.
When he had voiced his thoughts, Ginoza had stated simply that they were wrong. That everyone was wrong. He was going to prove to the world that his coefficient wasn't going to deteriorate like his father's. He was going to be an inspector and uphold the law of the city. He was going to make it more peaceful, so no more children had to watch their fathers be dragged from their lives. He was going to protect what was right, what was good.
It was empowering, Ginoza's conviction. He knew what he wanted and was ready to grab onto the reins of his destiny with both hands, steering himself towards the future that he could create. And the more Kougami thought about it, the more he realized that he longed for that kind of clarity.
It only took until the day after Ginoza's confession about the PSB for Kougami to declare that he wanted to be an inspector too.
"What?!"
Ginoza was more than a little surprised.
Kougami smiled, looking out onto the horizon, happier than he'd been in a while. Graduation was drawing near and he finally had a purpose. And a person to share that purpose with…
"You can't be serious. You don't just decide this kind of thing over night."
"Is it a problem?"
"Well, no, but-"
"Then it's settled." They were on the roof of an abandoned building in Kougami's neighborhood, watching the sunrise. Only a few hours until their first class. Only a few weeks until he would be striving towards his new goal. "We'll be great." He slung his arms around Ginoza's disgruntled shoulders. "I can see it already. Kou and Gino, Partners in Justice." He laughed. "Or some corny shit like that."
Ginoza looked over at Kougami like he was nuts. Who decided their career path in one night? But even as he couldn't fathom how his friend had come to such a conclusion, he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips.
"So, Division One. Congrats, Gino." Kougami collected two beers from the fridge and popped off the caps before slouching down onto the couch beside Ginoza, passing one over.
"I'm sure you will be surpassing Division Three in no time, Kou."
Kougami responded with a small half smile, still a little disappointed, but still too happy about his new position to really care. "It's no Partners in Justice, but it's something," he spoke, taking a swig.
Ginoza chuckled at that. He couldn't believe Kougami was still on about that. All throughout the Academy and their time in the Instruction Center, Kougami had referred to them as Partners in Justice, something that had originally baffled him – why Kougami would intertwine their destinies so closely together – but now Ginoza only accepted it with fondness. "We'll get there."
Moments of easy quiet passed as the two sat, just soaking in their day, the fact that within the next twenty-four hours they were going to be leading their own teams, solving crimes, saving people. Kougami was excited, to say the least. His gaze travelled over the apartment, noticing, once again, how bare it was of anything personal. It didn't surprise him. Ginoza wasn't the sort to decorate. It wasn't practical.
"You going to wear those on the job, too?" He watched Ginoza start, turning toward him with widened eyes, lips slightly parted. Kougami gave him a deadpan stare. He couldn't believe he thought he wouldn't notice how useless his glasses were. "Because you and I both know that you don't need them." He didn't, not to see, not to hide. Ginoza had to hide from no one.
Ginoza's expression ran blank as he studied the bottle in his palm, the cool sweat beading around the glass. He had been wondering that too. The glasses had been how he had seen the world, how the world had seen him. They were both a mask and a barrier. They started out as an easy way to separate him from the reality that was too harsh. Now, they were a part of his identity. He needed them. "Yeah, I suppose."
"You shouldn't"
"Leave it alone, Kougami."
Kougami backed off, not because he was conceding, but because he didn't want the argument. Not today. He was still chipping away at Ginoza's deep seeded insecurities. His glasses were his biggest and toughest obstacle, it would take more than one night to convince him that he was much better without them.
Her last words hung in the air around him, lingering in his ears, festering in his brain. There was no getting them out. No matter how much he tried, they stuck to him like glue - like the blood that wasn't rinsing off of his hands.
"You'll be like this one day too. Facing one of your friends. Watching them pull the trigger!"
Ginoza shut off the water with a sigh, bracing himself on the sink as he stood before the smudged and dirty restroom mirror. He should have gone home and changed, but his body wouldn't permit him to leave. He couldn't go home to the stillness and the silence that would only scream out his solitude. It would only remind him of how true her words were.
He knew if he wasn't going home, then he should be working. His report still needed to be written. Enforcer Yoshida had been harmed during the whole affair and he needed to check on her status. There was also the chief who needed to be spoken to.
But he couldn't move. His fingers gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white. The words were sinking in, further and further with every second that passed. He had always struggled with it - the possibility of becoming a latent criminal. That possibility had a permanence in Ginoza's life that he just couldn't shake. Not since his father had left, locked up like the emotionally volatile dog that he was.
"Freak."
"Criminal!"
"PSYCHO!"
The taunts and the jokes from previous years came when he was at his lowest. It was a past sorrow and frustration that still kept up its cruelty in the present. Especially now that he worked right alongside his father - the model that everyone based his future on.
Sure, everyone on their team saw Masaoka as an experienced detective with a killer instinct, a keen eye, and a nose for sniffing out the dark hues. Because he was all that. Ginoza knew that. He could recognize that, though he did tend to demean the man anyway. But the rest of the world, Chief Kasei included, knew just what he really was. A criminal. And his status marked Ginoza's ending since he could remember.
Ginoza locked eyes with his reflection. The bloody splotches on his lenses tinted his world with the insides of his first kill. Sneering, he wrenched his useless glasses from his face and threw them in the sink, finding a small amount of satisfaction settling within him as one of the lenses cracked.
It wasn't enough.
It was never enough.
That was how Kougami found him. The man, the only person in the world Ginoza could call a friend, slung his arm around his shoulders, uncaring towards the sticky mess that would no doubt mark his suit as well.
Kougami stared at Ginoza in the mirror, the other man's eyes remaining locked with his hands clenching the curve of the counter. The moment Ginoza had pulled that trigger, he knew that his partner would need him. Taking a life, no matter his or her Pass, wasn't something you just got over. He'd have been more concerned if Ginoza had easily slipped back into his chair and gone back to work.
Kougami knew the toll it could take. His first had landed him at a bar down the street, attempting to drink and mindlessly flirt his anger and pain away. It wasn't until Ginoza had shoved his way in and stolen him from his stool that he realized it wasn't working. But his talk with his partner afterwards had helped. Ginoza had helped him, so of course he'd repay the favor.
A familiar hand ran up and down his back, its assuaging capabilities dulled in light of recent events. Ginoza grew tense, wanting to drag Kougami into his arms and never let go and, at the same time, shove him out of the room and tell him to never come back. Because he was toxic. He was toxic and Kougami should have never saved him.
"It was a good shot. She would have kept killing people. She knew there was no other way out than that." His words sounded lame in his own ears, but it was all true. Ginoza's iron grip lessened, though his eyes still wouldn't meet his. "C'mon, Gino. We need to get this off of you. And then we'll have a drink."
He finally looked at his partner then, seeing that same damned crooked smirk that Kougami tended to pull out with only the slightest provocation. He hated what it did to him. He hated it and he loved it, but there was no place for that emotion in his life.
Ginoza took one last look at himself in the mirror, a mess of black and red and disappointment staring back, and then he finally let it go. He'd put the criminal down as he was supposed to. His team was safe. The city had one less killer within its limits. He did his job. And he was going to go home and let Kougami take his thoughts away from it all.
Because he was the only person who could.
It felt like an electric shock jolted through him. He looked down, feeling Ginoza's fingers slip against his as he passed him the tablet. It was a sudden, sharp feeling of instant satisfaction that had his heart racing, craving for more.
After a while of staring dumbly down at the tablet in his hands, Kougami looked up, watching as Ginoza simply sat down at his desk, engrossed in his job, completely unaware of the acute desire flying between them - of the sparks that were still driving Kougami's mind haywire.
Plopping down at his desk, Kougami dropped the tablet containing the file from archives down before him. He didn't look at it, not yet. His focus was way off course. These moments had been happening more and more recently. When they would bump or touch, when they locked gazes and Kougami could see into the depths of those striking green eyes, when Ginoza would laugh, it was like a chord being abruptly struck in a silent, enclosed room - loud and demanding of his attention. And in these times, Kougami could practically see the taut line drawing them together, the space between only growing smaller with time. Their connection was palpable now, more so than it ever had been.
Kougami couldn't stand it any longer.
He watched as Ginoza typed out reports, dashed his way through the case files. Those slender fingers breezed over the keys efficiently, yet elegantly, as if performing on a grand piano. Kougami didn't know how he could make something so basic, look so damn alluring.
"You're spacing again, Kou," came Ginoza's gentle reminder.
Kougami's eyes zoomed back onto the file in front of him, hating the fact that it wasn't as entertaining and beautiful as his partner sitting mere feet away. "It's not my fault all we have are boring reports. Why can't we have a case? I much prefer chasing down suspects than this." Kougami lit up a cigarette, watched as Ginoza scrunched up his nose in disgust, the action making him look like a disgruntled kitten. It drew a chuckle from the elder inspector.
Ginoza looked away, trying to ignore the habit of his partner's once again. It reminded him of his father. The smoke would engulf the house, covering everything in the horrifying cases his father would obsess over night after night.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ginoza watched Kougami smoke and he could see the similarities highlighted before him. It scared him. Ginoza wanted to snatch the horrible vice away from his grip, tear it apart, and steal Kougami away from everything that could go wrong.
He didn't. He never did. He let Kougami smoke away his boredom, his anger, his worry, his pain, and shoved his own feelings down. Kougami was fine. Kougami was capable - much more capable than his father was in any day.
"So you would prefer there was an incident? That someone was in trouble or harming people?"
"That's not what I said."
"Besides, Division Two and Karanomori need the help. It wouldn't be that much work if you would just focus. And if I remember correctly," Ginoza turned, giving Kougami a small wry smile, "you were the one that volunteered for this, anyhow."
That was before I knew how distracted I would be… They'd been at this for hours. All of the enforcers were already back in their quarters, leaving Kougami and Ginoza alone. "Yeah, well, I owed Karanomori, so of course I had to." Kougami got up and sat on the edge of the taller man's desk, an expectant expression growing on his face. "That doesn't explain why you're here, though."
"It's a long job, I thought you could use the help." That was only half true. Ginoza simply didn't want to go home. He needed to do something, work on something, keep himself busy. And this way, he wasn't alone. "Do you have to smoke that?" It had been burning his nostrils with its close proximity, giving him flashbacks he didn't need to endure while on duty.
"You don't mind Sasayama or Masaoka smoking around here."
Ginoza pushed up his glasses, giving Kougami a pointed glare. "I do, actually."
"But you don't say anything."
"It's different."
"Why?" Kougami watched as Ginoza tensed, his shoulders squaring off with the built up tension, but his partner said nothing else. He only averted his gaze and set back to work, jaw clenched with unspoken words. Shit. "Alright, alright. Fine." He walked the cigarette back over to his desk, stubbed it out. "We should probably be headed out, anyway."
"We're not finished."
Kougami winced at the clipped tone. Something was going on with Ginoza. Something he wouldn't say. His mood had been ruined for the better part of the day since he had come in that morning. He couldn't figure out why. Kougami had only been going over some old case files with Masaoka when Ginoza had begun to get even more snappish than usual. "Yeah, but Division Two can handle the rest. We helped them out plenty." He walked back over, his hand settling between Ginoza's shoulder blades, rubbing out the tension.
Ginoza cocked a brow at the contact. Kougami had been touching him more often lately, far more frequently than usual and with less necessity. It was odd, but Ginoza found comfort in it - a small sense of ease. His hands stopped working, resting over the keys. "Alright."
Kougami gave a relieved sigh as Ginoza conceded. It wasn't often that he was able to talk his partner into leaving with him. Ginoza was usually there after he went home, and there when he came in. Kougami had begun to worry that Ginoza was living there.
Ginoza stood and Kougami's hand fell back to his side. He was about to move and collect his things from his desk when he was assaulted by Ginoza's natural scent, fresh and light, yet overwhelming to his senses, like a cool breeze over dew covered grass.
It instantly drew his thoughts away. To a world that was quiet and free. To a life that wasn't smothered by society's overbearing rules and the caustic suppression of the soul. And in it, he wasn't alone…
"Kougami?"
He couldn't resist the urge this time.
He captured Ginoza's lips, stepping further into that reality that seemed so much closer in Ginoza's presence. There was such a warmth there, a feeling that was so right, Kougami couldn't fathom how he had managed to wait so long for this.
And then Ginoza pulled away. He wouldn't look at Kougami, bangs obscuring his vision as he nearly sped away, leaving him to wonder in silence.
Kougami stood there, staring at the space Ginoza had left. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but that certainly wasn't the reaction he had wanted. It left a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, a lead weight of dread that sunk down and stayed there. Had he just ruined the most precious thing he had in his life? Why did he always have to fuck up everything he touched? Everything he wanted?
Ginoza stood with his back against his kitchen counter, sipping at the wine in his glass. His thoughts were frayed and he needed to calm down, but all of his willpower couldn't take on such a massive job. He scoffed as he waved off the new alerts of his darkened hue. As if he didn't already know how damaged his psyche was becoming. A pounding at his door jerked his attention forward, his glass nearly disturbed from his grip.
Kougami shifted his bags to his other hand, praying that he had managed to grab everything he needed. Ginoza had been icy with him even more since the kiss and he needed to fix it. He couldn't ignore this tension, these feelings, any longer. He could hear Ginoza come to the door, waited as he knew that Ginoza was watching him through the hole. He wondered, as that weight reappeared in his stomach, if Ginoza was going to ignore him, leave him out there, hopes dashed and food rotting.
He didn't. The door gently swung open to reveal a severely haggard Ginoza, still in his suit, though his jacket and tie had been discarded. Kougami brightened and didn't allow for Ginoza to even think of dismissing him before he could get a word in. "You haven't had dinner yet, right? I thought I could cook us something up. I brought the supplies." He shook the bags in his palms, hoping to at least get inside and soften Ginoza up before he broached the subject of the kiss.
Glancing at the bags and a winded, frantic Kougami, Ginoza pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned against his doorframe. "I think we should both just get some rest. It's late."
"Not too late for dinner." Kougami slid his foot in the door, physically keeping himself in Ginoza's space. "Gino, you need to eat something. I know you skipped lunch. Let me cook something. I promise it won't kill you." He threw in his most charming grin, for good measure.
Ginoza begrudgingly gave a tired smile and shook his head as he let him inside, Kougami practically bounding into the kitchen. "You cook now?" It wasn't something Ginoza knew of Kougami. The only thing he could remember of his cooking prowess was that it was non-existent. A few burned bags of popcorn and a pot of extremely mushy noodles in the past could attest to that.
"I started trying out some recipes", he called from the kitchen. In truth, Masaoka had been showing him some new cooking techniques and recipes over the past year, but Ginoza didn't need to know that. It was nice to make his own food instead of ordering some meal that was instantly tailored to his current diet and vital statistics - the meal made all the more satisfying by the company he was sharing it with.
Ginoza sat in the living room, the news on the far wall barely garnering his attention. Kougami had told him to stay put, that he wanted to cook for him. So he stayed, keeping his mind focused on the present and stabbing down his curiosity.
When they ate, it was peaceful, quaint in a domestic way that Ginoza hadn't experienced in years. Neither of them had, he suspected. The news was muted in the background as the two ate on the couch, the movement of tableware the only sound to permeate the apartment. That, and the thoughts that he couldn't ignore. "When did Masaoka teach you this recipe?"
There was far less bite to the question than Kougami would have expected. He paused, food halfway to his mouth as he gave Ginoza a look that asked how he knew.
Ginoza only returned this with a look that asked how he could not.
Kougami set his food down to the side, sheepishly running a hand through his untamed hair. "I'm sorry. I probably should have thought this through more."
"Probably." Ginoza stared at the last half of the meal on his plate, remembering when it was that he had eaten it last. There had been a time when his father had cooked for the family. A time when Masaoka was a father and husband first, when he wasn't just an inspector with a family.
Quickly losing his appetite, he set his plate to the side as well. "This was nice, but…" Kougami needed to leave before his need to scream and punch something overwhelmed him. He was about to ask when he was caught off guard by Kougami's hands sliding into his.
"We should talk about this, Gino. About us."
Kougami's expression held so much emotion, so much built up want and hope that Ginoza had to turn away from it. "What about 'us'?"
He didn't know how to say it. The right words just seemed too far out of reach. So he did as usual. He let his actions speak for him. Kougami tried again, this time cupping Ginoza's face as he leaned in. Ginoza leaned back, expression purposely impassive, and Kougami had to ignore the sting of rejection pricking at his heart.
He let go and quickly cleared the living room of the food, cleaning up the kitchen as he heard the sound of the news coming back on. He sighed, wondering how he could have been wrong. He could have sworn that there had been something so much stronger going on than a one-sided infatuation.
Grabbing his jacket off of the back of the couch, he jumped as his sleeve was caught by his partner. Ginoza wasn't looking at him, but his grip was firm, desire clear. He wanted him to stay.
So he sat and waited, half-heartedly watching beside him. Kougami held himself back and accepted Ginoza's need for space. He had been told that he could be a little over zealous with his intentions and he didn't wish to scare him off. Not Ginoza.
Ginoza couldn't face him, but for as much as he had wanted him to leave just minutes before, he couldn't let him go. He wanted him to stay, needed him to stay, because he'd been spiraling more often than not and Kougami seemed to be the only person that could keep him calm, keep him sane. He was the only one that could instantly bring him comfort and joy, simply with his proximity. And maybe he'd had those same feelings for Kougami all along and had only suppressed them. But as he sat there, he couldn't imagine how he had ignored the magnetic pull dragging him to Kougami all this time.
By the time the news had finished out and a following program began to run, Ginoza had made up his mind. He turned off the holo projector and allowed himself to finally meet Kougami's searching gaze. When Kougami leaned in this time, he didn't hold himself back. He succumbed to Kougami's desires, and his own.
A wash of relief came over Kougami and he held on tightly to the younger inspector. Ginoza kissed him back with a fervor that was almost too much. Like the entire world had contracted and all Ginoza had was Kougami to hold on to. And that was just fine with him. Ginoza was his world, he'd love it if he was Ginoza's too.
Ginoza struggled in the midst of all of the kisses, all of the bare and raw affection. Kougami's kisses were consuming in a way that spoke of a passionate need. It was so strong that he could feel Kougami sucking him in, carrying him home. Ginoza wished that he could be happy, let himself go and float carelessly into Kougami's arms.
But all he could feel was the pain, the hurt that would come when Kougami would leave, because he would.
Kougami could feel him pulling away. "Hey", Kougami spoke, a hushed whisper in his ear. "Gino, I'm right here. Please don't stop. Please let me care for you. Let me love you."
"But, Kou, this… this is dangerous-"
He silenced him as he dragged their mouths back together, drowning himself in Ginoza. Kougami didn't care for anything else. It was true that he hadn't really considered all of the negatives and risks that would come from loving his partner, but he couldn't think about that now. Because Ginoza was in front of him, he could feel him and kiss him and keep him from self-destructing, from drifting away into nothingness while he gave his whole being to his job.
He didn't know what it was, but he had no choice. It was a burning desire, a want that lit his nerves aflame. Ginoza was what he wanted, and he would go to the ends of the Earth for this man. He would give up everything, just to protect him. "Let me love you."
Whatever they were was still so new. Neither of them had bothered to talk about what they were, where this was going. They were content as they were, letting their friendship take its natural course and evolve into something that was completely unknown to both of them.
The calm quiet eclipsed them into their own little world inside of Kougami's apartment. Kougami sat on the couch reading one of his many old paperback novels. Ginoza laid beside him, his head in his partner's lap as he continued to flit through the file on their latest case on his tablet, hoping to find something new that could get them out of their rut. Kougami had wanted Ginoza to quit working and relax, but they'd found a compromise. Ginoza worked quietly, easily, while lying there, Kougami's fingers running through his hair, massaging his scalp.
Occasionally, Ginoza would look up and see Kougami just staring at him. His eyes would seek out a kiss, and Ginoza would grant him permission with an easy tilt of the head.
This was how they spent most of their shared time off. No pressure, no conflict, just uncomplicated time together. They tried, as much as they could, to keep their professional lives out of it. Although, there were times where a case was particularly hard and they would break their rule to work on it together at one of their homes after their shift ended.
And somehow, they just worked. Their relationship wasn't perfect, but they were together.
"So, are you going to tell me what's in that giant box over there?" Kougami stared at the large cardboard box by the door, his attention zeroed in on it, mind plagued by curiosity.
"I don't think so."
Kougami scrunched up his brow, disappointed. "Why not?"
Ginoza bit his lip to hide a coming laugh as he heard Kougami nearly whine. "I would think you would rather just find out for yourself."
"Really?" At Ginoza's amused nod, Kougami got up, his book carelessly dropping onto the floor in his excitement. His eyes trailed around the beaten, battered box and he resisted the urge to lift it up and shake it, like an overly enthusiastic child getting a present. But he was endlessly thrilled at just the prospect of receiving something from Ginoza, no matter what it ended up being. Kougami never figured Ginoza as the gift giving type.
The more time that began to lapse over as Kougami simply appraised and inspected the box, the more Ginoza began to shrink into himself, insecurity high. It hadn't been his intension to give Kougami anything that day. It wasn't like they were celebrating anything special. He had just been perusing one of Kougami's favorite old shops at the edge of town that Kougami loved to drag him to and saw something that he couldn't resist buying the other man - whether it cost an exceptional amount of money for an old piece of the previous century, or not. "It's not going to open itself." Ginoza didn't like how agitated he sounded, but Kougami was driving him insane with his study of the outside of his present.
Giving a laugh, Kougami flipped open the flaps, only finding himself stunned silent by what he found. He'd only heard of them in his books, seen them in old pictures and the old movies Sybil allowed through the system. He couldn't believe Ginoza had found one. "No way." Digging into the box, he drew out his present, a little surprised by its weight and how Ginoza had gone through the trouble of bringing it over despite that fact. "How did you find this?"
The awe on Kougami's face easily assuaged any of Ginoza's doubts and fears. "I have my ways." A giddy Kougami was more than worth the hassle he had gone through.
Kougami shook his head, turning back around to slide his hand over it. A record player. It wasn't in the best condition, but after so long, nothing really was. It had aged well, considering. "Does it work?"
"Am I really the type of person to get you something that doesn't at least function?" Kougami's smile only increased in its severity, if that were even possible. "Check the box. I believe you missed something."
With a tilt of the head, Kougami gazed back in, quickly snatching up the rest of its contents. "You found some actual vinyl records, too? How in the hell did you manage something like this?"
Ginoza merely shrugged. "There were only four. One of them apparently skips pretty badly, but I figured you would appreciate it anyway."
Kougami just stared at it all in front of him. He was quite surprised by his partner now, especially since he knew for a fact that Sybil wouldn't approve of this music and considering how much Ginoza valued Sybil's opinion, it was shocking that he would ever even touch the records. Not to mention, Kougami knew that Ginoza didn't understand his love of 'old junk', as he called it. Ginoza had to have ignored a lot of his own disapproval and discomfort to get him such a gift. This present was completely for Kougami's benefit and it warmed his heart to the core.
"Gino." Before Ginoza could blink, Kougami pounced on him, hugging him tightly around the waist and kissing him deeply. "I love it." He kissed him again and stared into his gorgeous green eyes. "I love it all so much, Nobuchika."
Visibly startled at the use of his first name, Ginoza quickly grew flustered, but welcomed the tenderness and endearments. This was all still so incredibly new, and it scared the crap out of him, but it also made him realize how much he needed this. How much he needed and loved this man. "I'm very glad, Shinya."
Ginoza stood in front of the elevator, his shell of calm slowly cracking as a fury boiled under the surface. His meeting with the chief had not gone well, not at all. Added onto his current troubles, and Ginoza was ready to crack.
He resisted the urge to punch the wall as he heard steps approaching. He knew those heavy footfalls anywhere.
When a hand was felt at his back, he violently ripped himself away with a growl, grateful that the elevator had chosen that time to open as he stepped inside. To his dismay, his pursuer followed.
Kougami surged forward, not allowing Ginoza to get away this time. After blowing up on their enforcers, Ginoza had stormed off back to the office without even a glance back. Kougami had tried to follow, but had ended up staying to handle the scene he was left with.
He could see in Ginoza's irate expression that he wanted to be left alone, but he wasn't going to let him stew in such anger. So, he followed the silently fuming inspector out onto the balcony, the place that usually gave Ginoza peace.
Leaning against the railing, Ginoza took a steady breath out and then in, trying and failing to rein in his emotions. It had been getting even harder recently.
Things had been going fine. And then the bodies started showing up…
"Gino, I don't-"
"Don't, Kougami. Just don't." He could feel Kougami coming to his side, but he only gazed out at the city. The view usually helped give him perspective, but right then it only reminded him of how much he was failing the city he was supposed to protect.
"You know what? No." Getting angry himself, Kougami grabbed his partner and turned him to face him. "I don't care if you're mad at our team, or me, or this entire fucking city, I'm not letting you do this to yourself." Ginoza grit his teeth as he ran a hand over his face, but he remained facing Kougami; the elder inspector took that as a good sign. "Now, what's the matter?"
"What's the matter?" Ginoza scoffed. "You undermined my authority! Again! I don't know why I'm even surprised. Anything I say doesn't matter, does it?"
"Of course it does," Kougami replied softly.
"Then why? Why did you go when I specifically told you not to?!"
Now Kougami became really angry. "I don't work for you, Gino! I'm not an enforcer that you can just order around and treat like a dog. We're partners. We make the decisions together. Or have you forgotten that? We got a lead and I couldn't ignore it." Throwing his hands out, he found his tone rising. "And look! We found another body. I refuse to apologize for that."
"And what if the culprit had still been there? You could have been killed. You could have gotten Sasayama and Masaoka killed. You don't think. You never do. These rash decisions are going to-" Ginoza stopped himself, turning away with a sneer.
Dropping his hands back to his sides, Kougami stared at the man beside him. Sasayama's lead had been good and he hadn't understood why they had been ordered to ignore it. It didn't make sense. So when Ginoza had gone down to Karanomori's lab, he rounded up Sasayama and Masaoka and went to check it out. He didn't want to go behind his partner's back, but he knew, in his gut, that it was the right move.
Ginoza swallowed heavily. "It wasn't just my decision." He looked at Kougami, watching as his confusion morphed into understanding.
He had thought that maybe Ginoza's prejudice against the enforcers had been clouding his judgment, as it tended to, but now he realized that there had been more to it than that.
"The chief ordered us to leave it alone. I wasn't trying to treat you like one of them, Kou."
The guilt flashing in Ginoza's eyes made him want to throw up. If he hadn't assumed he'd known everything, this wouldn't have happened. Of course, they wouldn't have found the body then, either. "I'm sorry for not listening and for… thinking I knew what was going on, but I won't apologize for following my intuition."
Ginoza's expression hardened. "The chief thinks you're too reckless."
Kougami had to fight the smirk threatening to break out on his face. She didn't want to know what he thought of her. "Doesn't everyone?"
This time, Kasei had been even more disappointed with him and his partner. Kougami was too reckless, too wild. Apparently, he needed to be monitored more closely and get his act together or his position was going to be reconsidered. Ginoza needed to gain a handle on his partner and his team, or his was to be reconsidered as well.
Ginoza couldn't handle this.
Kougami gave an agitated grunt as he leaned his back against the railing. "And this all had to happen tonight, of all nights."
The taller of the two rose a brow. "What was so special about tonight?"
Kougami shook his head and noted that he needed to rethink his plan. Today was out of the question. He wanted Ginoza to say yes, and Kougami couldn't be sure that in his currently emotionally exhausted state that the man would.
As much as he didn't want to, and as much as he had already been waiting desperately to approach Ginoza with the subject, he would have to put off asking to move in together.
His fourth call ended without an answer, as they usually did those days. He couldn't get ahold of him - no one could.
Since Sasayama's murder, Kougami hadn't been the same. Ginoza hadn't seen him outside of work since before, and when he was at work, all he would do was comb over file after file of the Specimen Case, staring at photos, tracing over the scenes and the autopsies. His obsession was quickly threatening his Coefficient.
Even after the case had been closed, Kougami didn't stop. Even as his hue grew darker by the day, he continued. He ignored his need for therapy, ignored his crumbling sanity.
And yet, Ginoza was still surprised when he was told that his partner wouldn't be his partner anymore.
Ginoza visited the isolation facility during the wee hours of the morning, ignoring the stern chill that grated against his nerves as he entered. He hadn't seen Kougami since before his demotion, but he had put off this moment for too long already.
He had been assured that the man was asleep before he came upon his room. He couldn't face him yet. Although, he knew he would have to eventually. He knew the course of action Kougami would take. Because he knew Kougami like the back of his hand. Or he used to.
Putting his hand to the glass, Ginoza could see Kougami sleeping inside. He looked peaceful, nothing like the monster his new Pass made him out to be. Ginoza wanted to think it all a lie. An outrageous and unjust lie that Ginoza could prove untrue.
But as he raised the dominator at his side, as he appraised Kougami's Coefficient, he could see the blatant truth. Kougami had gone dark, driven himself out of his reach and too far from salvation.
Kougami had chosen to chase shadows, instead of staying with him.
The dominator clattered to the floor as Ginoza found it hard to take in air. He couldn't breathe and tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he couldn't fall apart here. Sybil's eyes were watching, always watching, and he couldn't afford to let his guard slip.
Straightening up, Ginoza slipped his mask of harsh indifference back on. Kougami was gone. He wasn't his partner anymore, in any sense of the word. He was a latent criminal now and he needed to be treated as such. There was nothing that he could do for him now except make sure that his transfer back into their division would go smoothly when the time came.
Sliding his hand back onto the glass, Ginoza breathed in deep, taking in all of the memories, all of their time together, and let it all out in one swift breath. He had known this would happen. He knew Kougami would leave, but he didn't understand why it still hurt. His preparation for the pain had been nothing but a flimsy bandage, inadequate for handling this kind of loss.
After one last long look, Ginoza picked up his dominator and walked away.
Kougami allowed his eyes to open as he listened to Ginoza withdrawing from the facility. His lack of visits hadn't been surprising, but it still stung. His eyes glimpsed around his cell as he rolled onto his back, arms beneath his head. He'd hurt Ginoza, most likely irreparably so.
It wasn't personal. He hadn't meant to affect Ginoza so deeply. All he had wanted was justice for Sasayama's murder, for all of the people that had been strung up and displayed as some sick animal's idea of art. He couldn't let it go. Even if this case had landed him in the isolation facility, even if it had taken his job, his family, his love, and his freedom…
He didn't regret it. He would find whoever did this, and make them pay.
Kougami hadn't been an enforcer for long, but he was already fed up with Ginoza's cold, stringent attitude towards him. He wasn't sure if Ginoza's current treatment of him was on par with how he treated Masaoka or worse. Kougami now had an even greater respect for the elder man and his easy calm in the face of Ginoza's cold wrath.
He wouldn't look at him. Even when speaking to Kougami, which, in itself, was rare, Ginoza's gaze remained stubbornly just above his head. Except, of course, when Ginoza was angry, when Kougami had done something wrong, had been a little overzealous in pursuing or capturing a suspect, or gotten a little careless towards the rules, Ginoza's strong gaze would bear into him with all of the fury and scorn held within his heart.
The reaction was predictable, perfectly normal, even, given the circumstances and Ginoza's personality, but he figured that most of the animosity would have worn off eventually, at least for the sake of professionalism.
He was wrong.
This wasn't what he wanted. He had yet to find the murderer responsible for so much suffering, including his own. He had yet to bring justice to the victims and their families. But he had lost everything, and for what? He hadn't given up. He spent most of his nights after his grueling workouts pouring over the files, most of their contents painting the walls of his chambers, but he was nowhere near an answer. He was in as much of a rut as he was back when he still had his badge.
As Ginoza stood from his desk, leaving with that now completely permanent frown on his face, Kougami followed, attempting to stop him just a few steps outside of the main office. "Hey." When his call went ignored, Kougami grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him toward him with a growl. "Gino, will you stop," he shouted, exasperated.
"What do you want, Enforcer?"
Kougami didn't flinch. "Can we have a civil conversation? Without you barking down my throat?" Ginoza straightened up, expression livid, but he didn't say anything. Kougami knew he wanted to. "Gino, thi-"
"Don't call me that. We aren't-"
His face fell and Kougami was given a small glimpse of the raw hurt gnawing at his ex-partner. It was a little more than he could bear.
His mask reappeared. "You don't get to address me with that kind of familiarity. Not anymore. I am your superior. Treat me as such." Taking a step away, Ginoza readjusted his glasses, needing to keep as much space between him and the enforcer as possible.
"I didn't mean for this to happen. You have to know that I didn't mean to hurt you. This isn't personal, Ginoza. I just want whoever's behind this to pay." He reached out, only to get shaken off as Ginoza leveled his gaze to the floor. "This doesn't have to break us, you know. My feelings haven't ch-"
"You left me!" Ginoza's eyes widened as he stood shocked by his own statement. The thoughtless words had wrenched themselves out and he so desperately wanted to yank them back in. He couldn't do this. He had already made peace with Kougami's demotion and their subsequent separation.
Kougami could read his mind, hear the unspoken words broken from his sentence. Just like everyone else. And they hurt him, because he wasn't like everyone else. He had promised himself that he would never become just another disappointment in Ginoza's book. "I didn't leave. I'm right here."
"You left a long time ago, Kougami." And then Ginoza walked away.
Kougami let him go.
Ginoza watched as Tsunemori aimed the dominator at her enforcer. She was shaking and yelling and obviously torn. All Ginoza could think was God, please don't let it be too high. Not here. Not now.
The newly minted inspector shot with a cry and Ginoza's heart stopped.
Kougami dropped, each second that passed shocking Ginoza's heart back into its usual rhythms. He was okay. The stupid moron was going to be fine.
Passively, he watched as Tsunemori talked the freed hostage down, the lighter slipping through the crazed woman's fingers. With little feeling, Ginoza pulled the trigger on the hostage, watching her too fall to the ground, paralyzed.
He stood as Tsunemori gaped. Her first day on the job held some tough lessons for her. He almost pitied her, but it was better this way. Kougami on the ground with a face full of gasoline was proof of that. He was her hound and she was his shepherd. If he did anything that she didn't approve of, she was to pull his leash and yank him back. It was a lesson well learned.
At least, he thought so.
As time passed and his many warnings were dismissed, he saw how the two bonded. Tsunemori quickly became Kougami's devoted pupil, completely disregarding the threat posed while being so close to him and his methods. Her hue was sure to be clouded by such irrational instincts and the teachings of a latent criminal. She was going to end up just like Kougami.
But she remained stubbornly clear, her number so low. Even in the face of everything the job entailed, Tsunemori's psyche held up. Even after the system had failed her, letting a man kill one of her closest friends while she was helpless to stop him, her Pass withstood. She was inspiring, when she wasn't infuriating.
Ginoza sat in his therapy sessions, spoke out his worries, his fears, his dreams, but he could still feel his emotions winding up into a coil that was always too hard to untangle. He felt like he'd been stripped of his skin, tender in the most painful way.
He broke a glass. And then two. Then three. Until his cupboard was empty and he needed to restock on dishware. Dime padded over to the kitchen, bumping his nose against his human's hand with a whine. Ginoza looked down, tears coming to his eyes as he knelt down beside the massive husky. "I'm sorry, boy." His voice broke, shattered like the dishes mere feet away. "I'm so sorry." He hugged the dog and Dime nuzzled against him, held him up as he sobbed.
Funahara Yuki died and Tsunemori was fine.
Kougami was still alive and Ginoza was falling apart.
He didn't visit Kougami while he was being hospitalized, but Tsunemori did. As did Masaoka. Ginoza shouldn't have cared. He did and he hated that he cared so much. More than anything he wanted to rip out his firmly ingrained desires and insecurities and toss them into an abyss so deep that they could never be recovered. He couldn't rid himself of them, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't capable.
Kougami didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Makishima had escaped. They had caught him, they had him, and they let him escape.
He punched harder and harder, his muscles and fists burning as he focused all of his rage and let it out. Hitting and kicking the stupid dummy, Kougami found his fury building into a fire he soon could not contain. Makishima would continue to kill until he realized the secrets of Sybil. There would be no arresting him, no capturing him. The only possible way to save everyone from his future attacks was to put him down. One final punch sent the human-shaped punching bag back into the wall of his kennel with a harsh smack.
He let his arms drop to his sides, taking in deep breaths as he calmed himself back to normal. Without anything to do, Kougami lit up another cigarette, piecing together his frayed nerves.
Makishima was free. Kagari was missing and was most likely dead or worse. The entire MWPSB was in a panic and the city didn't know what to think. All that and Kougami had been taken off the case. He was being forced to heel and watch as the world ripped itself apart and as his colleagues, his friends, were dying in the wake of a murderer's search for the truth.
The worst part was that there seemed to be no way around it. Tsunemori, as sharp and promising as she was, effectively held no power in her position as number two, and Ginoza was stuck as a puppet bound to dance at Kasei's fingertips as long as he was the executive officer.
Although, he was proven wrong as he found himself being led down by the two inspectors to meet with Division Two. He wasn't going to be actively searching for Makishima, but he was going to be looking for Kagari, which might, in turn, lead him to finding a clue to Makishima. Kougami was almost proud of Ginoza's plan and newfound rebellious side. That is, until Kasei stepped in and ordered him into custody.
Ginoza's blood ran cold. His quick assurances were cut off sharply by Kasei, her gaze cutting into him like a razor. With a few easy words, she ripped his flimsy excuses apart and even gave him a test to prove his loyalty.
Tightening his jaw, Ginoza raised his weapon against Kougami, the dominator switching into paralyzer mode before the chief stepped beside him, her cold hand sliding over his and his gun. Almost instantly the modes switched. Devastation sprung up from the depths of his soul as his dominator charged itself for lethal elimination.
He was being ordered to kill Kougami.
Kougami was stunned stiff, his body confused as to whether it should fight or flee, before resignation relaxed his limbs and he closed his eyes, turning away. He should have known.
A jarring shock jolted his eyes open as his body seized up. Kougami fell to the floor, saved by Tsunemori's dominator.
The young inspector stated that Ginoza's dominator was broken, although nobody there was convinced this was true. All he could do was reply with a weak, "Yeah," before Kougami was being taken to the infirmary, Tsunemori following him as the chief left with a look of displeasure. Ginoza didn't move from his spot until Aoyanagi tugged his dominator from his grip. She didn't speak, instead she gave him a look that spoke volumes and squeezed his shoulder tightly before leaving with her partner.
Ginoza walked back to the elevator mechanically, his movements lethargic as his hands shook with dread. He had almost killed Kougami. The enforcer had done nothing wrong, but he had been a breath away from pulling the trigger.
Bile sprung up into his throat, nothing but stomach acid as it had been nearly two days since he'd last consumed anything. He held the urge to vomit back, keeping himself as tightly constrained as usual, though he couldn't wipe the horror from his expression.
He couldn't protect the city. He couldn't protect his team. He couldn't even protect the people he loved. He was too weak. He was always too weak.
And then Kougami escaped – slipped right out from under their nose. He had help, of course. Karanomori had supplied him with the helmet; Masaoka had given him a place to hide with supplies to use. Ginoza scarfed down all of those betrayals, keeping them from the chief because he not only wanted to keep his job but because what was done was done and he needed what was left of his division.
He continued to work, ignoring his most basic needs and his therapy sessions. He blocked out Tsunemori and Masaoka's concerned glances. He disregarded the pain that came as he found that Kougami had left a letter for Tsunemori, but not for him. He didn't have time for any of that. He was slipping, slowly slipping down into his own hell, but he couldn't let go yet. He had to find Makishima and Kougami. He had to get to Makishima before Kougami or he knew there would be no saving his ex-partner this time.
And he had to get to Kougami before anyone else could. Kougami wasn't going to end up a pile of waste in the street. Ginoza wasn't going to let that be his fate - no matter what his dominator decided.
An explosion caught his attention and he sped towards its direction, a satisfied smirk coming to his face as he came upon his target. He raised his weapon, ready to take out Makishima only to miss his mark, the bullet whizzing past his head before the man turned and ran. Kougami ran forward, intent on following until he came to realize the scene he'd stumbled into.
Ginoza was on the floor, his arm horribly disjointed and bloody at his side, leaning over Masaoka who was half blown to hell.
"Tot-san!" The affectionate nickname slipped out in a yell. Kougami gritted his teeth as his hands clutched tighter onto his weapon. Ginoza glanced up at him and the agony in his expression was too much to bear. He will pay for this.
He couldn't stay, even though he wanted to tend to Masaoka, the only man that had ever been like a true father to him, even though he wanted to help and soothe Ginoza, his Nobuchika, he didn't have a choice. He couldn't let Makishima escape.
He turned away and sprinted after Makishima, Ginoza's cries following him until they faded out.
Kougami laid a trembling hand over his face as he stood in the middle of his cabin. He was safe in the ship, free from the city, and now he allowed everything to finally settle within him.
He shook out a cigarette from his pack, put it to his lips and was ready to light it, only for the want to just die out. An unnatural distaste crawled across his tongue and he crumpled the smoke within his fist before he blindly tossed it off into a corner. Nothing, not even his strongest fix, could help piece him back together now.
Dropping down onto his bunk, Kougami stared at his hands. There was a physical weight there. A weight he'd been holding onto since all of this had started. He had thought that with all of the time that had passed, and with the deaths of those responsible, the weight would have lifted. Instead, it had only grown heavier.
Everything that had been taken by Makishima was all still gone. He couldn't bring back Sasayama or any of the other victims, their dismembered and plastinated bodies forever burned to his retinas. He couldn't bring back Kagari, who Kougami was now convinced was dead. He treasured his place in Division One and the family he held there; there was no way he would have run. He couldn't bring back Masaoka, the old man and his wisdom now gone for good. The only thing he had been able to leave the man who had done so much for him was a key and a few quick words of gratitude at his gravesite.
Kougami couldn't resurrect his Pass from the depths it had sunken into. Nor his job or his status in society. Although, he really didn't wish to. His fall from grace had opened his eyes to the messed up society they all lived in and had given him a new purpose – to free everyone else from Sybil's corrupt judgement.
And Kougami couldn't save his relationship with Ginoza. Couldn't give him back his father or his sense of security in the system he had believed in so completely.
Makishima had taken too much and he had not paid nearly enough for everything he had taken. But did Kougami regret his choices?
No, he felt no regret for what he had done, no remorse for who he killed, nor no shame in how he had killed him. But he did feel guilty. It was a deep, lingering guilt that would more than likely stick with him until the day he died, for he couldn't undo all that the man had managed to accomplish.
Now, as Kougami sat there, his mind could only focus on his failures, those he'd let down and the disappointment he held in himself.
Sasayama's body all broken and rearranged into a monstrosity. The looks of pity he'd received from his colleagues after the demotion. Kagari's empty, silent desk. Masaoka's dying body in the arms of his son. Tsunemori's horrified look of devastation as he'd taken the shot.
Ginoza's tears and terrified cries that would always haunt him.
For a while, a long while, Kougami had doubted his love for Ginoza. Maybe he never truly loved him. How else could he have just allowed their fire to burn out like that? How else could he have allowed himself to put his job and revenge over the man he would have readily given his life for? How else could he have let Ginoza end them with only a few words of finality and a cold shoulder?
If he really loved him, how could he have seen him there with his dying father and not helped? Not grabbed him and held him until Ginoza was whole again?
How could he have chosen to leave without a goodbye?
His fist met the cold hard wall of the ship, the bulky metal biting against his skin and bone. There was nothing he could do now – nothing but wait. When he reached those shores that had once seemed so far and unattainable, he would find a way.
He would find a way to tear down the Sybil System and make up for all of his failures.
Laying down on his bunk, he finally let his eyes close, his mind wandering through what he wanted, who he truly wanted. To that strict expression that would finally crack into a small smile with enough pestering. Those soft locks that he could still feel the traces of lingering on his fingertips. Those hands that would gently caress over his skin. That light, fresh scent that had birthed a want of quiet freedom inside of him. Those captivating emerald green orbs. That natural intelligence and calculative nature. That easy warmth and tenderness underneath all of the bitter sorrow.
The only partner he ever wanted.
The only friend he would have followed to the far reaches of the Earth.
The man he would love until the end.
