"Hey, old man. Do you want some candy?"

Jakurai blinked once, looked up from his desk, and sighed deeply at the the sight of Ramuda. It wasn't that he openly hated the leader of Fling Posse and his former teammate, but he grew deeply tired of his antics from time to time. The other's strange, almost one-sided hatred was also troublesome to deal with, too, namely because Jakurai could never get farther than basely taunts when it came to insulting Ramuda.

But, Jakurai dealt with it all, nonetheless. And against his better judgement, he responded with: "Can you at least knock before you enter my office, Amemura-kun?"

"No way," Ramuda simply answered. His voice was acid that didn't match the sickly sweet expression on his face. "Anyway, just answer the question, Jakurai. Candy or no candy? To be or not to be?"

"Shakespeare aside, I suppose it all depends on the candy," Jakurai said. "I'm not a big fan of sweets, I'll have you know."

"I know. That's why I asked you, of course."

"But of course."

Ramuda remained strangely silent after that. Because in addition to his rude way of intruding on Jakurai's space, he had to make sure that the conversation ran at his pace, above all else. He sidled over to the large desk, and propped himself up on the emptiest space of the surface he could find. Without a doubt, that meant a few folders and papers went flying and askew, and several pencils rolled to the side and cluttered to the floor.

Ramuda ignored the mess, and stared at Jakurai with a curious expression in his bright blue eyes. He leaned forward, one hand placed behind him on the desk for support, the other hand reaching out and offering Jakurai something.

It was candy. Sweet, bright, and colorful candy. It was a lollipop, just like the one that sat in Ramuda's mouth with no intention of leaving until it was nothing but a soggy plastic stick. And like a lollipop, the inner of Ramuda's lips were stained bright blues and reds, mixing together in a bruise-like purple at the middle where his mouth morphed into a shape worthy of a kiss.

Jakurai glanced at that purple color, before looking back at Ramuda and gently shaking his head side-to-side. "No thank you, Amemura-kun. I don't have a need for sweets right now."

"You're turning me down? And my awesome candy, too?" Ramuda asked this in a high voice, accusatory and fake but not unenthusiastic. "There's something wrong with you, old geezer. You must be turning senile. Don't you know that candy's the best thing in the world? Right next to freedom and fashion?"

"You're quite chatty today," Jakurai noted. "The last time you spoke to me this much, Dirty Dawg was still together."

"Ha. You're a sentimental sack of shit, you know that?" Ramuda leaned back, twirled the lollipop in his mouth for a few turns, then took it out and pointed it at Jakurai with an unnerving smile. He brandished the second, refused lollipop in the same manner.

He might as well have been holding daggers.

Jakurai stared, unblinking.

Ramuda continued.

"You're always whinin' about how mean I am to you. Then, when I show you a shred of sentimentality, I get nothing in return? Talk about playing hard to get!"

"You're the one that's indecisive, if anything else. You refused to talk to me at all before, and now suddenly you've opened your heart and you're willing to spill out everything? What do you take me for, Amemura-kun?"

"A fool, obviously. A big, stupid, absolute fool."

"That may be your opinion on me, but that's all it is. An opinion and nothing more."

"It's a fact, actually. Only fools would choose to be doctors in this trying time. Only fools would use the hypnosis mics for something as useless as healing others. Only fools would do what you did, do, and will do. Only fools, Jakurai."

Ramuda laughed this time, and threw the two lollipops in Jakurai's direction. One of them stuck to the white coat he always wore, while the other tumbled off his body and fell on the floor alongside the fallen papers and pencils.

Jakurai said nothing, although he met Ramuda's indignant glare with his own sedate expression. He didn't show it, but a large part of him quite relished the unsavory look on the other's face.

Even better was the sound of his voice, which–once sweet and cute–turned bitter and acrid at this point. "I hate you," Ramuda hissed. "I hate you more than anything else in the world right now. And I really mean this world, Jakurai. The one we're so desperate to try and change."

"I know."

"I hate the way that you still try to chase after me, especially considering what happened."

"I know."

"I hate your stupid, pretty face, which is ten times more stupid than it is pretty."

"I know."

"I hate how you think that you have the right to talk to me after the incident. I hate it all."

"…I know."

"Then why bother trying to fix things? You've got Matenrou and I've got Fling Posse, so why do you even still care about me? Why do you even bother?" His eyes narrowed, and his voice peaked to new, repulsive heights. Ramuda sprung forth, slender fingers clenched around the soft fabric of Jakurai's collar. He grasped tightly, and pulled the other so closely to him that their breaths were only a few steps away of disappearing into each other–that their teeth were only a few arguments away from baring and biting at the other's exposed skin.

They were so, so close to each other, it was maddening to think that once, Jakurai wished for this closeness. Even more maddening was the fact that Ramuda wanted this at some point, too.

Now all Jakurai wanted was for it to stop, already.

Ramuda continued, enlivened by his own rage and frustration.

"How dare you. Jinguuji Jakurai, you're a coward. You're nothing but a coward and a phony and I'm gonna beat you to a pulp at our next battle. I'll leave you stinging so badly that your stupid healing powers can't heal a paper cut, of all things. I'll destroy you."

"Amemura-kun, just listen to me. We–"

"No, don't try to reason with me. I said I hate you already. Leave it at that."

"…Very well. I've no need to explain something to you when you refuse to listen."

"Say what you want. The one who refuses to listen is you."

Jakurai expected a few lashes at his face, or at least a biting verse from Ramuda's annoyingly flashy hypnosis mic. He received none of those things, however. In a very fluid motion, Ramuda swung his feet off the edge of the desk, and hopped off the surface entirely. The papers flew again, flustered by the wind of his shifting weight. And as he stood at full height, Jakurai entertained the idea that Ramuda was still shorter than him even when he was seated, although a difference in physical appearance meant little to him now.

Because Ramuda outmatched him in a way that couldn't be remedied by height and height alone. And Jakurai knew this well.

Ramuda knew, too, and even when he didn't smile as widely as he should have, Jakurai had the feeling that the other man was somehow satisfied with this outcome. Even if all it did was fester more hate between the two, Ramuda seemed so pleased. He hummed underneath his breath, fingers curled around candy wrappers, and eyes shining with a far away smile.

Oh, but Jakurai learned long ago to ignore the things he saw in Ramuda's eyes. His eyes were a sea of uncertainty, meant to draw in the naive and witless–meant to drown those who were weak at heart.

There was a time that Jakurai wanted to sink deeply into that sea, until the crystalline waves and crests all but swallowed him into their depths. There was a time where, Jakurai, lover of decision and precision itself, would dabble into the unknown, and become as spontaneous and free as the wind beneath Ramuda's wings. And those times were so long, but not so long ago. They were ages ago, but it felt like just yesterday.

It seemed like a dream, nightmare, or a feverish imagination, but the burning stare in (the oceanic) blue eyes reassured him that everything was real.

From the flown papers to the scattered wrappers, all the way down to the awkward glances and the sticky candy–everything was apparent to Jakurai now.

And yet he knew nothing.

All he knew was the sound of Ramuda's heart breaking in millions of pieces, and all he knew was the feeling of those very same shards piercing him throughout his entire body. But he still had the audacity to try and glue the fragments back together? He still had the nerve to try and care, despite knowing the outcome of this argument long ago?

He still tried to fix the irreversible gap between the two of them? And for what? For a long-dead dream of happy smiles and feather-light kisses, or for a current fantasy of bloody defeat and winded helplessness? For the prosperity of Shinjuku's neon lights, or for the desecration of Shibuya's pop art graffiti?

For what, for what, for what?

Why, why, why?

Jakurai finally understood Ramuda's frustration with him–at least in this regard. There were so many things he could never hope to know about Ramuda, despite the years he had gone through with him at his side in their Dirty Dawg days. Back when the sun bled orange and red, and the four youths faced the undetermined future with vigor and will. Back when there was no such thing as Buster Bros, Mad Trigger Crew, Fling Posse, or Matenrou. Back when the only words people mouthed in fear were "The Dirty Dawg" and "Dirty Dawg is here!" Back when everything made sense.

But those days were far gone, and Ramuda intruded to remind Jakurai of that. He came to cause havoc, make a promise, and see to it that the promise is fulfilled one day. He came to do everything that Jakurai couldn't, not back then and certainly not now.

He arrived here, to see Jakurai, despite every string and vessel of his heart telling him not to. And if there was one thing that Jakurai was sure about Ramuda, it was that he usually always listened to his heart.

So, was Jakurai an exception? Or was he an anomaly?

Even when Ramuda's back turned on him—even when his cute and lovely voice morphed into obscenities and threats before his burdened ears, and even when the pastel image of him turned dim and downtrodden under the glow of purple light—Jakurai couldn't tell. He couldn't tell where he stood in Ramuda's eyes, and it bothered him so, so much.

He still cared about the other. He still wanted to know what those vast oceans could hold, and what they couldn't. He still imagined what it would have been like, if their stupid conversations and what-if scenarios back then came true, and if Jakurai was standing by Ramuda's side right now, instead of being away from it.

He still thought, felt, and breathed in the possibilities of tomorrow. And no matter how much Ramuda hated him for it, he would never stop.

Ramuda slammed the office door closed (leaving Jakurai to wonder how he got past his nurses and security guards in the first place), and his footsteps rang hollowly in his ears until they faded away beyond the door's boundary. Then, there was no evidence that Ramuda Amemura had even been there at all, save for the mess he made of Jakurai Jinguuji's nearly immaculate office.

The mess which included the fallen lollipops. Jakurai never took him up on his offer, which was quite rude of him to do, now that he thought about it. But he was never a fan of sweets, and that was a choice that (hopefully) had nothing to do with Ramuda. No, he just wasn't a sweet guy at all. He was beer, wine, and antiseptics–not juice, candy, and happiness. Before, he thought that would be alright, because he would leave the tooth-rot to Ramuda, since he was so good at it.

But now, Ramuda was as bitter as him, and Jakurai knew it was his fault for that.

He threw away the sticky candy that clung onto his jacket, and fixed up a few papers here and there. His office returned to the way it was before, although one little anomaly stuck out from the others.

The second, untouched lollipop remained in perfect condition. Wrapper and all, it was perfectly good and safe–Ramuda really wanted him to have it!

Jakurai glanced at the door. He wasn't nervous about another sudden interruption, since the nurses and other staff members were far more courteous than Ramuda when it came to entering his domain. So, knowing that he couldn't possibly be caught off guard at this point, Jakurai picked up the candy, and began to unwrap it.

Saturated pink was the first thing he saw, followed by clean white plastic at the bottom. He remembered Ramuda talking about candy in great detail before, and how the pink ones were usually bubblegum-flavored. Jakurai didn't even remember what bubblegum tasted like, so he couldn't tell if he liked it or not. But it was a gift from Ramuda, after all, and he had good taste–even if it widely differed from Jakurai's own preferences.

So, finding no reason to deny it at this point, Jakurai put the candy in his mouth. He savored the sweet, spunky flavor of bubblegum, and sighed deeply as he let the stick dangle out the corner of his lips.

He wasn't sure if bubblegum was supposed to be good, but he liked it. Probably because it tasted heavy, saccharine, and bright.

Probably because it tasted like Ramuda.