Disclaimer: Wild Adapter belongs to Kazuya Minekura. My only connection is that I love her beautiful boys. But not in a creepy, stalker kind of way. -blinks innocently- Honest.
A/N: One of the things I love the most about Wild Adapter is the delicious ambiguity of Kubota and Tokito's relationship, so it's something that I've done my best to maintain, even with the addition of another character. I don't intend for my OC to be romantically involved with either of them, but rather to orbit them and, just maybe, become part of the whole "are they or aren't they" question. Hope you enjoy it. Comments welcome!
Kubota Makoto took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette as he contemplated the stray curled on his couch, marveling that it had been Tokito who'd insisted on bringing her home. But, in retrospect, maybe he really shouldn't have been surprised.
She'd been locked in a cage in the hold of the tanker where Tokito had been held and had been a silent witness to the whole bloody, chaotic affair. Once he'd gotten the piano wire unwound, he'd made to drag his partner bodily to safety and been thoroughly surprised when Tokito pulled out of his grip and knelt by the cage. He was even more surprised to realize there was a girl with Tokito's eyes inside staring back at them in abject fear.
"We can't leave her here, Kubo-chan! She... she's like me."
And so she was, at least for the most part. Her claws were shorter, the fur longer and finer and reaching almost to the elbows on both arms, but it was obvious that she was part of the same twisted drug experiment that Tokito had escaped from. She'd flinched when he'd shot the lock off her prison and hesitated at the proffered freedom, her face filled with distrust, until Tokito had reached out his right hand in invitation and Kubota had watched the doubt in her face fade into a kind of cautious hope, then her hand was in his and they were running again into more blood, more death, more chaos before finally plunging into the waters of Yokohama Bay.
And through it all, their rather morbid conversation, the tense, shivery boat ride with Kou (who barely raised an eyebrow at the newcomer), the oddly ordinary elevator ride, she never made a sound. Once in the apartment, Tokito collapsed on the bed and it took all of Kubota's remaining energy to toss a spare blanket to the girl and tell her she could crash on the couch before following him.
And so here they were.
He glanced up as Tokito made his appearance, hair still damp after a much-needed shower. Kubota frowned at the myriad bruises blooming spectacularly across his partner's face. He felt a flash of rage at Sanada for daring to even think about touching his cat. He squashed it with some effort – he had other things to think about first, but Sanada would pay.
He asked mildly, "Feel better?"
"Yeah, mostly. She still asleep?"
"Yeah."
Tokito came to stand beside him and Kubota gently tossed a companionable arm over his shoulder. They stood that way a moment until Tokito cautiously asked, "She can stay, can't she?"
'As if,' Kubota thought, 'I could deny you anything.' "Yeah."
"Thanks, Kubo-chan."
"Yep. Think I'll start breakfast. Hungry?"
"Starving!" Then, softly, "Hey. You're awake."
Kubota turned to find the girl regarding them solemnly. He hadn't even heard her stir.
Tokito spoke to her softly, like she was a spooked kitten. "Kubo-chan's gonna cook breakfast. You wanna, y'know, shower or something before you – we – um, eat?"
She glanced at Kubota, who gave her a wave and a cheery, "Morning," and was rewarded with a ghost of a smile. He was immensely amused by the blush dusting Tokito's cheeks as she turned back to him and gave a tiny nod.
"Okay, the bathroom's there and there's a ton of clean laundry. You can wear whatever fits you."
Another small smile and a shy duck of her head and she scrambled for the bathroom with Tokito staring after her.
"You do realize the only clothes that might fit her are yours, don't you?"
"Yeah, that's okay. Y'know, until she has her own."
"That's very generous of you."
"I told you before that I have a vast heart."
"Ah, yes. Now I remember."
There was a quiet moment, then Tokito ventured, "She doesn't talk much, does she?"
"Doesn't seem so. It's kind of a nice change."
He waited for that to sink in, smiling when Tokito finally sputtered, "What's THAT supposed to mean?"
They were halfway through breakfast when the bathroom door finally opened and the girl emerged. She stood stock-still at the threshold and seemed for all the world to be scenting the air. This, combined with her tawny coloring, made her resemblance to Siamese cat uncanny. A pair of drawstring shorts and a tank top (both Tokito's) hung from her too-thin frame.
"Hungry?"
Her eyes snapped to the pair at the table and she nodded vigorously. Kubota grabbed his plate, stood and gestured to his empty chair before turning to retrieve the girl's breakfast from the counter. When he turned back around, he was surprised to find the girl already seated. The silence and speed with which she'd moved vaguely unsettled him.
Tokito, on the other hand, was in awe. "That was so cool!"
She gave him a confused look.
"The way you moved, all quiet-like. You were over there and then, poof! You were here and I didn't hear ANYTHING! How'd you do that?"
She shrugged somewhat bemusedly.
"Don't you think that was awesome, Kubo-chan?"
"Mm. Poetry in motion." He didn't mention that he'd missed the whole thing as he set a plate in front of the girl. She attacked the food with telling ferocity. Kubota glanced at Tokito, pleased to see that, although he was practically exploding with questions, he had the good grace to at least let the girl get some food in her first. And she needed it. Kubota noted how bony her shoulders were and wondered at himself for picking up another half-starved stray.
It was then that he noticed the myriad scars that covered her shoulders and upper arms and disappeared into the fur just below her elbows. Some were straight and clean, made by something sharp. Some were ragged, like deep scratches, and others were small, perfectly round scars that could only have been cigarette burns.
And he, jaded killer Kubota Makoto, was dumbfounded by the abuse evidenced on this girl. Without thinking, he ran a finger over the uneven surface of her skin and felt her stiffen into perfect stillness at the touch.
"It's alright," he murmured. "I won't hurt you."
She turned to look at him with eyes full of misgiving, then turned to Tokito, who nodded reassurance at her.
"I'm gonna look at your back, okay?"
Kubota expected her to back away from him in fear or to lash out with fists and claws as Tokito had at first, but she simply gathered her hair over one shoulder and turned her attention back to her breakfast, allowing him to do as he wished.
And that bothered him. Still, he felt this was something he needed to do, to know, so he lifted her shirt as gently as he could.
Something in his face brought Tokito to his feet asking, "What is it, Kubo-chan?"
He said nothing, instead letting his housemate see for himself the criss-crossing of scars that covered her back.
"Shit," Tokito breathed. "What did they do to her?"
"It appears that they beat her, severely, and on numerous occasions."
Tokito reached out and ran clawed fingers down her back, raising goosebumps in their wake. Then he stepped around and crouched next to the chair.
"Hey."
The look she turned on him was uneasy.
"Look, you're with us now, okay? We're not gonna let anyone hurt you like that ever again." There was an earnestness in his voice that Kubota rarely heard. "You're safe now," Tokito continued, holding out his furred hand to her. "I promise."
Rather than immediately taking the proffered hand, she studied Tokito's face, taking in the cuts and bruises, then turned to the lanky figure leaning on the counter.
Said lanky figure found himself impressed with her apparent acceptance of them as a unit, where a promise made by one would be all the stronger with the assent of the other. What she didn't know (yet) was that a promise made by one automatically bound the other, so he gave her his softest smile and the gentlest of nods.
His affirmation seemed to break something in her and her eyes filled with tears. Turning back to Tokito, she bypassed his hand completely and flung herself against him. Caught off-guard, he threw his arms around her and teetered a moment before falling back against a suddenly-there Kubota, their combined weight and momentum knocking him over, too, so they all ended up in an undignified heap on the floor.
Flat on his back, with Tokito's head on his stomach and his cat's arms filled with a wide-eyed girl, the pure, unadulterated absurdity of the situation hit him like a freight train. And, for the first time in memory, he, Kubota Makoto, aider and abettor of illegal Triad activities, annihilator of Yakuza and general bringer of large-scale destruction, chaos and death, laughed.
Maybe it was the pent-up worry about Tokito's welfare. Maybe it was the intense relief of having his stray back where he belonged and in one piece. Maybe it was that his stray went and picked up a stray of his own. Whatever the reason, once the laughter bubbled up, he couldn't seem to stop it. He laughed until tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Then he propped himself up on his elbows, where the sight of two pairs of blue eyes, one set confused, the other outright scandalized, set him off again.
Tokito was the first to crack and, snickering, pronounced, "S-stupid Kubo-chan!"
The girl took a moment to regard them like they'd both gone completely off their respective rockers before shaking her head helplessly and breaking into quiet, breathy laughter.
Kubota thought her smile was about the prettiest damn thing he'd ever seen.
