Author's Note: Although the stories aren't exactly contemporaries, I think Ash would have a few choice things to say to Ryo on the subject on thinking you'd be better off separated from the people you care about.
The thought that ditching the guys in the back streets of Chinatown wasn't the brightest idea didn't actually hit until Ryo started to pay attention to where his feet had led him. An evening market bustled around him, the mass flow of people pulling him along helplessly—human flotsam. Not that he felt that was at all an inappropriate analogy. He allowed the crowd to pull him along into a battered little restaurant, Chang Dai, where he followed a boyish looking waitress to a table too big for him. He ignored the myriad of reactions he received, ranging from curious to downright insulted. Maybe having the crap kicked out of him would help.
Help what he didn't know. Help deal with Luna's death? Her murder?
"Hey," the waitress thunked a bottle of sake and a cup in front of him and pointed to an older blonde American a few tables over. Ryo forced a grin but wasn't quite sure if he was at the 'death wish' threshold yet. He contemplated the bottle, running a strong finger around the mouth, playing with it like a listless cat.
He could feel the blonde coming to join him and had half a mind to say thank you and bolt out again, suddenly more than willing to continue his map-less journey through unfamiliar streets.
"Sorry if I'm butting in, but if you'd sat there with that expression on your face any longer, I would have never forgiven myself."
Ryo paused before replying. For being as stereotypically American looking as they got, the guy's Japanese was flawless.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. The name's Ash."
"Sanada Ryo. So is this what you do? Wait around all night and wait to buy Japanese guys drinks?"
This time Ash paused. Ryo guessed it was to figure out the odd mix of accents Ryo was throwing at him. Hanging out with Rowen had given him a little bit of that Kansai twinge that must have been jarringly unfamiliar.
"No, but...you reminded me of someone I knew once. You come to America alone?"
"With friends."
"Waiting for them?"
"I...no. One of them got hurt. I'd just be bothering them right now."
The blonde's face twisted in an expression that Ryo knew all too well—the kind of melancholy remembrance that only someone who had fought their all and lost everything could re-create. It was impossible to fake. Ryo knew it like he knew the guilt and the anger stewing in his stomach.
"It's no bother to me. I'm kinda trying to get away from people myself right now. Do you mind?" Ash motioned to the bottle.
"You bought it." Out of polite habit, Ryo held the cup still while Ash filled it to the brim. He downed it like a shot, swallowed shakily, and said under his breath, "He said the exact same thing whenever something was really eating him. It's why I got so goddamn involved." Ash snorted, a combination of saddened and amazed.
"Who?" Ryo asked.
"My friend who's just like you. Although, he might not be anymore..."
"You're afraid if you see him again, something bad will happen?"
Ash nodded. Ryo held out his hand for the cup and Ash went ahead and poured for him.
"I can do one better," Ryo said dully, "I can't help but hurt and worry my friends wherever I go, and people who spend a lot of time with me tend to have very short life-spans." The ebony-headed boy drank slowly and placed the cup between them. "And no matter how much they say it doesn't bother them, I know I'm hurting them and I can't help it. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be better if we just never saw each other again."
Ash managed a sarcastic laugh, signaling the waitress for another cup. He didn't speak until the sake had brought an artificial blush to his cheeks.
"You don't want what I got, Ryo. It might seem like the way to go but...god, you miss 'em. And it's worse when they're alive...you know you'll see the dead again, the living...it's a gamble, you know?" Ash put a hand over Ryo's and stared directly into his blue depths, standing out like oasis against planes of pale skin. For a moment they reflected in each other's eyes, mirrored souls sharing something Ryo was totally unprepared for from a complete stranger. As if the current of humanity had brought him to nestle temporarily into a niche on the side of the stream that had enough strength to anchor him just long enough to regain his bearings. Find a direction.
"Yeah, it is." Ryo replied.
Bells jangled by the door and a little boy, maybe a few years younger than skip had been, spotted Ryo and bolted to their table without hesitation. The intrusion shocked Ryo out of getting totally lost in the green oblivion of Ash's gaze.
"Nii-chan, here you are! Everyone's been worried sick since you left--" the boy noticed Ash and said, a little embarrassed, "He wasn't getting you down, was he mister?"
Ash pulled his hand away from Ryo's, stood and reached down to ruffle the boy's dark chestnut hair.
"Takes a lot more than a long face to bother me kid," he replied, "and have a little more faith in your nii-chan, huh? Right, Sanada-kun?"
For the first time that night,he turned a true smile on Ash.
"Yeah...thanks, Ash. Maybe you'll visit Japan one of these days?"
The blonde shook his head, wondering if all Japanese had the ability to turn his advice so easily back on him. Lord knows someone else had been an ace at it.
"Maybe. Depends on how the dice fall. Take care." Ash slapped money for drinks down and shuffled off, and just as quickly Ryo was swept up in a flurry of words coming from Yulie. Part of him wanted to stay a little longer, maybe even try to talk ash into taking the plane back to Narita with them. But there was no need--flotsam like them had a way of drifting to exactly where it needed to be eventually.