This takes place a while after STAND ALONE COMPLEX. (You just want to give Togusa ice cream, or a hug, or something -- anything to make take that beaten look out of his eyes...)

The second chapter of Spring Cleaning is being very obstinate, so I decided to write some Aoi/Togusa for a break.

Doesn't matter much to anyone, anymore. But hell, sometimes Aoi thinks that he's the only who cares. Talk about ironic. It used to be that Togusa had simply skidded off the tiny bubble of attention that Aoi had expanded into the world. He just hadn't existed, except as the new guy at the aid center that was too stubborn and too intelligent. Even at the Sunflower Society, he hadn't really mattered; just that someone that had been stupid enough to get caught in the crossfire. Aoi had always thought of him as an extension of Major Kusanagi: her doll, her puppet, capable only of mouthing whatever words would please her the most.

He regrets that now.

It was too easy to sneak past his teammates. Even Kusanagi was duped; she never noticed that she had been hacked, or that Aoi stole some of her cash to buy one of those energy bars from the vending machine that Togusa liked so much.

And then, there he was; standing outside the closed door of Togusa's workroom with the bar clutched in his hand, feeling foolish.

Togusa had always been different from the other adults. He never got angry, or frustrated -- or if he did, he didn't show it. He simply gave them his strange crooked smile; the one that only looked happy out of pure coincidence and was simply the mask he put on so his agony wouldn't frighten other people.

He was the only one who had taken an interest; he was the one who had managed to coax Momo and Lara out from under the computers before that bitch Murata could come and hurt them again.

Aoi knew that this was a horrible idea, and that he would most likely end up embarrassing the both of them. He reached out along the net, feeling the hundreds of minds gliding, flying, swimming, through the sea of data. So many colors and patterns, like the fabrics Aoi's used-to-be-mother liked to touch and admire. So many minds, so many personalities. Surely, there was someone out there that had tried this kind of thing, and succeeded? Surely, his case wasn't so hopeless?

Togusa often bounced his ideas off of Aoi as he pushed him to their next destination. Aoi supposed it was because he didn't want to bother with writing it down; or maybe the one-sided verbal communications helped him connect.

Aoi found that he didn't really mind. There was something comforting in listening to the quiet tones of Togusa's deep voice. He didn't try to fill the air up with nervous babbling like others, and didn't speak in the raspy whispers that Aoi hated. Togusa talked when he wanted to talk and was silent the rest of the time. Aoi remembers mistakenly thinking how much of a pity it was that Togusa was Kusanagi's puppet.

Aoi pulled away from the free-for-all net, and narrowed his focus to the building.

Kusanagi's faded violet, that she was always trying to convince herself was royal purple, was with Aramaki's stretched navy blue in his office. Batou's yellow ochre was sulking in his own workspace; while Pazu's cyan and Saito's polished dark sapphire snuggled on a couch.

Boma's color was a grassy green, surprisingly enough. That was in the dive room, sitting near the muted orange that was Ishikawa. No threats there.

Then there was a rumble and a vibration -- and it took Aoi a moment to realize that he had entered Togusa's room. Not that it was hard to figure out; Togusa had heard him and looked up now, surprised.

His expression startled Aoi for some reason. It just wasn't what he had expected: he was taken aback, but he looked...happy, too. Like Togusa'd been wanting to see him.

Aoi held out the energy bar silently.

There had been something there when Aoi had hacked Togusa at the aid center. Something black and gold, something that had roared with laughter while he replaced his face with his logo in Togusa's memories. Something that had malevolently, gloatingly, chuckled and stroked Aoi's mind, saying, "You're interesting. Come around sometime, and we'll have a chance to play."

Togusa looked at the proffered energy bar silently. Then he smiled that crooked agony-smile, and pointed at his desk.

"What's up?" he asked as the boy hopped up onto the smooth surface.

Aoi shrugged and scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground. "Just wanted to...talk, I guess."

"About what?"

"Have you...have you ever --" Suddenly Aoi felt very young, and shy. Togusa was sitting there and being so patient, trying to understand --

"Drugs are bad," Togusa said suddenly. "Don't take them. They do things to you." He squinted at his young companion. "That answer your question?"

"Wha -- no! That's not why I'm here!"

Togusa quirked his eyebrows. Aoi swallowed. He knew it wasn't Togusa's fault, but those wolf-gold eyes were so unnerving.

They stirred something inside him, though; it all just started coming out.

"I...I think I'm...that I l-like someone, but he's just -- not available. And I thought --"

Togusa held up a wry hand. "I'm not any good with romantic entanglements of any kind."

"I -- wasn't thinking that."

"Then, what?"

Aoi's mouth had gone dry. He stared at the floor. "Promise you won't get mad," he muttered.

He felt the pressure of a warm hand on the top of his head and swallowed again. "Promise. Cross my heart, and hope to eat donuts another day."

Aoi laughed and sobbed and flung himself at the natural man. Togusa grunted as he struggled to compensate for the sudden addition of Aoi's weight. He didn't have much of a chance for that, though. Aoi clumsily mashed their lips together, painfully aware that he had never done this before, not even with a girl which Togusa most certainly wasn't and never would be, trying to find the right spot where they fit --

They fell in a tangled heap on the floor. Aoi somehow ended up straddling Togusa's waist, still trying to find the right -- ah.

Togusa sat up, and Aoi was shaking so badly, because he finally knew what he wanted. A soft, damp noise as their lips parted. Arms around him. It didn't seem real.

"Aoi," Togusa said sadly as he held him. "Oh, Aoi, I don't. I just don't."

Aoi buried his face in Togusa's neck, and his consciousness in the crimson satin of the detective's mind.