The One Place Left to Run To.
For some reason it felt appropriate that Ryuuji was returning to Domino as autumn slowly begun to swallow summer. Gold and green had already been tainted bronze and brown, the sun becoming more mallow and faint by the day. It was not only the landscape that was dulling under the fading warmth of summer, colour appeared to seep in waves from the people as well, until they all seemed to blend monotonously into one mere afterthought of indifference.
Yes. Autumn certainly seemed appropriate.
He rested his head wearily against the glass window of the bus, ignoring the light covering of grime that acted as some sort of anti-protection. Once brilliant emerald eyes that had become as dulled as the people and places they shared the city with glanced distantly over the after effects of a long summer.
Home.
Domino.
The only place he had left to run to.
He had never been one to run, at least not unless he was being chased by some monster in a twisted virtual world, and the old Ryuuji would have been mortified to learn that this newer version of himself was doing exactly that, and without even the smallest hint of moral outrage.
He simply didn't care.
He was too tired to.
As rolling hills gave way to a concrete wall of commercialism, Ryuuji decided that there was simply no better word to describe his state of being. Tired. He was tired. It was not the sort that could be solved by sleeping a week away or soaking for hours in a spa, but the bone weary kind that had sunken deep beyond the soul and into somewhere undefinable.
The bus finally stopped at the appropriate stop, and the first thing that Ryuuji did was to stalk out the closest café. With a warm smile that barely touched his lips yet still managed to created the desired allusion, he was given permission to use their 'Customer's Only' rest room. It was reasonably clean, which was all that Ryuuji could really hope for, considering that he was hardly in one of the better neighbourhoods of Domino. He placed the small shoulder bag on the sink bench, momentarily forgotten, as he studied his reflection in the slightly smudged mirror, disdained eyes raking over imperfection after imperfection.
Once, he'd been able to look in a mirror with a sense of arrogant pride.
Angry hands dived into his bag, pulling out an overly expensive hairbrush before almost violently dragging it through his hair. Mousse soon followed, then a gel that supposedly smelled like strawberries but reminded Ryuuji more of the special kiddie toothpaste he had used as a child, and then lastly eyeliner.
"It's no surprise you spend so much time attempting to make yourself look beautiful – it's to hide the ugliness that you have inside." The smug voice commented, dark eyes glaring down emerald ones.
There. Better. This time when he looked at his reflection he saw not a battered soul but a perfectly calm and attractive 21 year old, who surely had no problems at all in the world. This time the smile was slightly wider as he exited the rest room as he nodded towards the owner. She smiled back uncertainly, her middle aged features furrowed slightly. He had made it almost to the door before she called out to him, her voice deep and concerned.
"Are you alright, sir?"
He stiffened at the words, a certain kind of fear lacing down his spine. The smile he forced this time was absolutely perfect – it was one he had spent many months perfecting over the last few months.
"Of course I'm fine, dear. Why would you think otherwise?" He spoke the words as he turned back to her, hoping the charm that worked so well on most people would not have finally found someone immune to it.
"Well, it was just that you were in there for almost two hours …" the words trailed off uncomfortably.
"Oh, I'm sorry about that. It's just that I'm proposing to my girlfriend today, and my car broke down not far from here. I got it started again, but was such a mess afterwards!" The lie came easily, and worked in a way his early series of smile obviously had not. After a quick wish of luck and a comment about how nice it was to come across a boy who wanted to look perfect for his future wife, he managed to escape.
Too close. Much to close.
Slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder, he dug out the tattered postcard and reread the address on the back, even though he had memorised it on his flight over. The bus driver had pointed him roughly in the right direction when he had exited the bus, and if he remembered correctly it was only about a five or so minute walk. A wail of a police siren punctuated the air that was stained with a smell that Ryuuji couldn't quite place. This wasn't the Domino he was used to, there was nothing upmarket or fresh about the rundown buildings and the tattered people who seemed to be nothing more than walking ornaments on the pavement.
One left turn. One right. Third building on the left.
For a moment Ryuuji thought he'd got the wrong address, as the 'building' he was expecting was nothing like the building before him, and was instead a two storied house squashed in between others in a row of two storied houses. But there was a plaque a top the door that proclaimed "Monoi Youth Centre" in bold lettering, and the street number matched up perfectly.
Now that he was here, he had no idea what to do.
Shaking off the self-consciousness that had become an unwanted addition to his personality lately, he strode up the steps, ignoring the small group of kids who sat there and walked hesitantly through the open doorway. He was met by a blast of air conditioning that was hardly needed at this time of year, and which appeared to contaminate the air inside as opposed to cleanse it in any form. With a quick pat of his hair to make sure it was still all in place after the short walk, he approached the front desk, and smiled another practised smile at the man sitting behind it.
"I was wondering if I could speak to Jounouchi Katsuya?" It was right at that moment that Ryuuji decided that this had been a very bad idea. Standing before a haggard looking man in a building that was not the building it should be, in a street he would never *ever* have visited, chasing down a past that he had only ever really a spectator in. He couldn't even remember why he was here, anymore.
"He's out with the kids in the court yard," came the instant reply, the man having no idea of his guest's indecision. "Just down the hallway – you can see the doors leading out once you turn the corner."
"Oh, I though perhaps I could just wait here for him, but if he's busy I can just leave a mess…" he trailed off as the man went back to his paper work, effectively dismissing him.
Well. THAT was certainly something that was exactly the same, regardless of which side of the poverty line you were on.
Ryuuji stood there, simply glancing at the corridor he had been directed to until suspicious eyes lifted from the papers on the desk and glared at him. Smiling weakly, he made his way then past white wallpaper that was pealing slightly in places and around the pre-mentioned corner. It was only then a hop, skip and a jump to the double glass doors that he approached with wariness.
"And another three pointer to the King of the court, the Jou-meister!"
Resting casually against the open frame of the door, a small, genuine smile finally settled on Ryuuji's lips for the first time in months as he watched his old school-mate dash around the court, one moment passing the ball to one of the teens on the court with him, the next intercepting a pass from a player that Ryuuji was sure had been on Jounouchi's team only moments before. The same fading sunlight that highlighted the poor quality of the court and the tattered fences that cordoned it off from the houses on either side seemed to shine fondly still on Jounouchi, playfully tangling in blond locks and dancing over smiling features.
There was something remarkably bittersweet about the fact that it looked like time had hardly impacted on Jounouchi at all, when it served as Ryuuji's on personal albatross. Trying to out-run the present, seeking out a past that never was. Well, if anything, Ryuuji was still as melodramatic as ever.
"King of the court, huh? Perhaps King's Jester would fit better." The words flowed easily when Jounouchi stumbled after the ball was stolen from him, ending up sprawled on the concrete unceremoniously. It appeared that Jounouchi was about to snap back at whomever it was who had insulted him, until his eyes landed on the 'guilty' party.
"Ryuuji!" Before he could even complain about the improperness of Jounouchi referring to him by his first name, Ryuuji was wrapped in a tight hug, had a pair of knuckles rubbed into his hair and was dragged into the middle of the court. "It's been what, 6 years?" There was genuine happiness in Jounouchi's voice as well as surprise, and some of the fear that Ryuuji had been feeling began to slowly melt away. "Guys, this is an old school friend of mine, Otogi Ryuuji." Jounouchi warmly introduced him to each of the teens, and Ryuuji smiled at each of them in turn, at least pretending that he intended to remember their names for longer than a minute or two.
"So, when did you get back? Last I heard you were looking to merge with some company in New York?" Jounouchi began with a smile once they had left the courtside and ventured into the small staffroom, a pot of jasmine tea sitting between them. "Not that it isn't great to have you back, Ryuuji – you've been gone far too long."
A pang of a different kind struck Ryuuji. Perhaps it had been too long, Perhaps it had been the wrong decision to leave in the first place. But that wasn't what Jounouchi had asked, so Ryuuji plastered a smile on his face as he poured himself a drink.
"How long have I been back? I suppose almost seven hours, now. I'd forgotten how long the trip from the airport into Domino really is."
"And I'm the first person you decided to see? I'm touched." Jounouchi's grin was contagious. "How long are you back in Domino for, anyway? I bet you have some fancy hotel already booked for your stay."
"I'm here to stay, I think." His answer came out softly, and was directed at his small cup. Because of this, he missed the way the smile dropped from Jounouchi's face. "To be honest, it was kind of spur of the moment – you know me, I've never been exactly predictable." When he finally lifted his gaze from his cooling tea, the smile he was wearing wouldn't have fooled anyone. "I was actually wondering-"
"Of course," Jounouchi replied before Ryuuji could even finish. "No spare bedroom, I'm afraid, but the couch pulls out.. Honda seems to think it's comfortable enough when he's down here during the holidays."
"If it's a problem, I can book into a hotel," he protested weakly in response, priding himself for not stiffening over Honda's name.
"Don't be stupid. You can stay as long as you like – there is so much we both need to catch up on." It was said with a smile, but there was a definite hint of determination in Jounouchi's voice. "I take it you left your bags at the door? My shift's just about over, and I'm sure that a couple of the kids wouldn't mind helping lug some of your stuff over to my apartment. No car at the moment." The last part was said with a hint of barely concealed shame, and for the first time since they'd met up again, Ryuuji felt uncomfortable being in Jounouchi's presence. Here he was, imposing on someone he had barely kept in contact with over the years and who was quite possibly struggling financially, as Jounouchi had always done. Money was not something that had ever been issue to Ryuuji, and this was the first time that he had been made to feel acutely aware of the differences between himself and Jounouchi.
"Actually, this was the only bag I brought with me," Ryuuji motioned towards the small bag he had dropped on the table. "Like I said, kind of a spur of the moment decision."
"We definitely need to catch up, Ryuuji." This time it came out more as a warning. Strange, how he'd thought that Jounouchi would be the last person to pick up that his return to Domino wasn't as innocent as it should have been.
"As you say, Jounouchi," he responded, deliberately stressing the other man's last name. Previous thoughts forgotten, Jounouchi grinned back cheekily at him.
"Come on, Ryuuji. You've been in the United States for six years, surely you're used to people calling you by your first name?"
"What time did you say your shift was finishing again?"
"Heh. Round one to me." Glancing down at his watch, Jounouchi let out a whoop. "And I was officially supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago. Lets go."
It took just over half an hour to walk to Jounouchi's apartment. Jounouchi pointed out local 'landmarks' and they both idly commented on the differences between the U.S and good old Domino. Domino had better food, they both agreed, although Jounouchi seemed to think the weather had been better in the U.S, or at least in Brooklyn where he had grown up.
"Well. Here's my building." An uncomfortable silence fell as they both stood outside the multi-storied building that had obviously been through better days. With a self-conscious cough, Jounouchi punched in his password into the keypad before bowing extravagantly.
"Guests first."
The first thing that Ryuuji noticed was that the smell that clung to everything outside was present within the apartment foyer as well, if not somewhat tainted by a hint of dampness and cigarette smoke. Brown walls, brown carpet, brown furniture.
"Oh, fucking hell." He almost jumped when Jounouchi swore as he closed the door behind them, annoyed eyes glaring at the 'Out of Order' sign on the elevator door to their left. "Once, just once, I'd like the bloody thing to be working when I have a guest." Apologetically, Jounouchi gestured towards the stairwell. "I'm on the seventh floor, not as bad as it possibly could be, but … yeah." Jounouchi was obviously embarrassed, a wry smirk taking the place of the smile that had been so prominent earlier.
"My apartment used to be on the 15th floor in the States – you should have seen me after a long day when I'd come home to find that the elevator had broken down." Ryuuji had once considered himself the king of games, it appeared he'd swapped the title for the king of little white lies. "I'm sure you can imagine the ear-bashing I gave the people in charge. It always happened just when I'd worked a 15 hour day and had been stuck in rush hour traffic for over an hour."
Jounouchi's answering laugh was filled with relief, and the two began their long trip up to the apartment. It was a good thing he hadn't brought any luggage, Ryuuji thought sardonically as he adjusted the strap over his shoulder. It would have taken them half the night to lug his usual load up the flight of stairs.
"Number 7-28. Home." The wary grin was back in place as Jounouchi slipped his key into the lock. However, instead of then pushing the door open, Jounouchi turned back to Ryuuji. "But before we go in, we need to sort out a couple of rules." Rules? Ryuuji just nodded in reply. He could deal with rules. "One. You're welcome as long as you like. And I mean that." The smile became warmer. "So no bitching or moaning over how you're being a burden or anything. It's nice to actually have some company. Two: It's Katsuya. Kat-suya. I refuse to share the same apartment with a friend who calls me by the same name as the kids at work."
"Can I call you Kitty for short?" He responded innocently, ducking under a playful punch.
"Three. If you want to drink, fine. But if you're actually drunk, you better be some place else." Joun – Katsuya said it with a seriousness that was so unlike the other boy, that Ryuuji forgot his own problems at the moment and studied his friend. A sadness that he had not spotted previously had darkened once honey eyes a different shade.
"Four." Katsuya interrupted his thoughts before they could develop any further. "Um…" Katsuya grinned sheepishly before scratching his head. "I'm sure there is a number four. If I remember it later I'll let you know. So do we have a deal?"
"I think I can handle your rules, although I reserve the right to terminate our agreement if I find rule number four unacceptable once you remember what it is," Ryuuji replied with mock seriousness.
"I'll keep that it mind," was the wry response as Katsuya opened the door and ushered him in. He had not been expecting much, had in fact prepared himself for more of the brown on brown on brown that the rest of the apartment complex seem to favour as its decor.
"This is nice." And it was. Oh, it was a far cry from his apartment back in New York, or some of the fancy hotel rooms he'd stayed in over the years. But there was something fresh about the simple white walls with interesting and dynamic art scattered across them in contrast, and the wooden floors that were a hell of a lot cleaner than his back home. Everything was clean, Ryuuji noticed, and not just in a rushed sort of a way, but as though the place was always as tidy and dust-free as it was now. The furniture was tattered a little bit, and obviously second hand, yet the couch seemed more comfortable and natural looking than the stiff furniture he was used to.
"It's small, I know," Katsuya commented quickly as he dumped his backpack on the long bench that served as the only barrier between lounge and kitchen. "Yugi and I painted it last spring, ripped the crusty carpet up not long after. Of course, my landlord doesn't exactly know about that last bit," he added on reflection. "But all that brown made me feel as though I was living in a coffin."
Ryuuji listened on with a smile as Katsuya prattled on, slowly making his way over to an overflowing bookcase on the far wall as Katsuya dug something out of the fridge. He was surprised at the range of titles that littered the shelves or were stacked up neatly on either side of the bookcase. Manga, duelling journals – those things Ryuuji had expected. But there were novels in both English and Japanese as well, Psychology books and Sociology hardbacks, a handful of art books and a 'Do it yourself' guide to electronics. He pulled out a business book that seemed even more out of place amongst the other titles, flicking briefly through the manual.
"Oh, please. You can't seriously believe that others are interested in investing in you because of your business sense, Ryuuji? You're pretty looks may be blinding, but they're not good enough to make anyone believe your anything more than the attractive face of your company."
"Oh, I remember what rule number four was!" Katsuya proclaimed in the middle of a sentence about how the door to the right led to the bathroom, while the other one was obviously the doorway to Katsuya's own bedroom. Ryuuji placed the book back in its place, his hand shaking ever so slightly. He turned to his friend, and only just in time, it turned out, otherwise the cold drink that Katsuya had just thrown at him would have connected rather painfully with the back of his head.
"Please tell me it doesn't include being the sole person responsible for keeping this place as clean as it already is?"
"Like I'd ever believe you even know how to use a vacuum cleaner, let alone a mop," Katsuya scoffed as he walked around the counter and leaned against the couch. "No. Rule number four is much more important than cleaning."
"But not as so important that you'd actually remember it," he attacked back, enjoying a verbal battle that was friendly instead of poisonous.
"Ha, ha. You're a real clown, Ryuuji." Luckily, Katsuya missed the way his comment caused Ryuuji to freeze momentarily. "But rule number four, buddy?" The joking tone was suddenly gone from Katsuya's voice. "You have to tell me what the hell happened to you in the States."
To be continued …
In Chapter two: Ryuuji catches up on where Katsuya's life has been taking him, discovers more layers to his roommate than he'd ever expected, and manages to do a tiny amount of sharing in return. Kind of.