Hello, laksanabayushiryuu here! So, this is the first ever K fanfic under this account. After long conversation which consisted cups of tea and good food with ashAksara, I started to watch K and...well, I ended up writing this fanfic. It's an AU DaikakuAdolf story and I will probably write more about this pairing in the future. Please check out my page for other stories and if you speak Indonesian, I happily recommend ashAksara's MikoRei/SaruMi fic Kings. Thank you and have a nice day :)


Nocturne :: in G minor, Op. 37, No. 1


The sky was already darkened when he stepped out of the building.

His clock showed ten thirty and he had just finished his a hundred-page report that he had needed to submit by tomorrow morning. He had spent thirteen hours in front of computer, armed with crappy instant coffee and protein bars which had tasted like rock—not like he had eaten rock anyway. His fingers were sore and his eyes were squinted. He glared at the street lamps on parking lot while trying to figure out where the hell his car was. Then he just realized that he had come to campus by bus. The dark haired man with black trench coat groaned inwardly and was ready to kick any nearest object when a kitten suddenly jumped from camellia bushes.

"Fuck!" He cursed and jumped a little. He stared at the innocent creature that looked back at him in such wide eyes. "What the hell? It's only a kitten."

The kitten meowed.

"No, I don't have any food. Go away," he said.

Meow.

The man sighed. "No, don't look at me with those eyes. It's not that damn Shrek movie. You can't deceive me. Now, go."

Meow.

"Hmph, whatever..." He turned back and started to walk quickly toward the bus stop to catch the last bus.

.

HOMRA was located just behind the very important business complex in Shizume City. With its classic interior and well-arranged lighting which created such calm ambience, the bar had gained its reputation since three years ago. The owner and bartender, a man in his early thirties with blond hair and bright smile, charmed every customer and successfully turned them into regulars in no time. Ladies adored him. Men spilled their sorrow—the secret they could only share with him, about failing marriage or secret affair even unrequited love. He, the bartender, loved the attention even though sometimes he had to face some clingy clients—mostly young women—who demanded his attention. But again, it was his job, right? A true bartender was not only about mixing great cocktails but also keeping the customers happy.

Yes, Kusanagi Izumo was proud of his profession.

Humming, he cleaned a highball glass then opened the cabinet where the bottles were stored. He needed to restock it soon. Cognac was on high demand and he made a mental note to order some bottles of fine French wine. His attention was averted as he heard a bell hung on the entrance door jingling softly.

"Welcome," he greeted and caught a sight of a tall man he had known for two years now. "Hello, Kokujouji-san, it's been a while."

The man nodded, taking a seat on stool. "Whiskey on the rocks," said Kokujouji Daikaku, "and tequila shot."

Kusanagi smiled. "Planning to get wasted?"

"I deserve a break after working on a hundred and seventeen pages." Kokujouji removed his trench coat, placing it on the stool next to him. The bar, he noticed, was not as full as usual—perhaps because of cold winter night when people preferred to stay at home.

"As expected from an assistant professor." Kusanagi replied as he slid the glass of whiskey. "Have you eaten anything? I can prepare snack which get along really well with your drink."

"Oh, god, yes…please."

Somewhere around two in the morning, Kusanagi helped Kokujouji to get into taxi and could not help but sigh at the sight of the drunken man.

.

He hated weekend.

He hated weekend when he would do nothing but sat on his living room, watched television idly, and drank cups of coffee. At least the coffee part did not sound that bad… However, waking up with pounding head on entrance way and an urge to puke had made Kokujouji's weekend worse than usual. He hurriedly stood up and stumbled into toilet just in time he began emptying his stomach. He felt like a pregnant woman who had morning sickness. Heck, even morning sickness was not this bad—according to his mother, of course. Five minutes later, Kokujouji was left glaring at the toilet bowl and he almost thought he had developed love-hate relationship with his toilet.

Great.

Since when had he treated a toilet bowl as a living being?

Kokujouji pushed his aching body away from the ceramic bowl. He grunted as his head began to spin and he had to press his forehead against the cool bathroom tile for support. Pathetic, he thought. Apparently, working until you could not think anymore was not a good distraction. He had only ended up with more and more workload. Seminars, journal articles, meetings with another university for joint-research… Yet, Kokujouji always found himself staring at his phone screen as if he was waiting for a single call.

A call from a man who had made him hate weekend.

… a man who had introduced him to gentle touch and soundless kisses in the middle of night.


Several months before…

"Senseeeeeeeeeei!"

"Misaki, your voice is much more annoying than the girls'."

"Shut up, Saru!"

"Speak to yourself."

"Oi!"

Kokujouji stared at the two students who were standing on the entrance of classroom. Yata Misaki and Fushimi Saru…something; he had remembered those two clearly because they were already known as the troublemaker. Honestly, how those two had landed on his class was quite a misfortune even though that Saru boy was brilliant student and one of his the best students so far. However, the problem was Fushimi and Misaki were somehow inseparable. Misaki was like a rebellious baby kangaroo who had decided to stay inside Fushimi's pocket for good so he could easily follow him everywhere. Alright. That was an unnecessary metaphor.

"Yata-kun, Fushimi-kun." Kokujouji nodded as they took their seat on front row. Actually it was more like Fushimi had dragged and forced Misaki to sit there.

"Did you have nice summer vacation, Sensei?" Misaki asked in loud voice.

Gosh, Kokujouji wished the boy had had a mute button.

"Misaki, lecturers don't have summer vacation. Idiot." Fushimi sighed and covered his hand on Misaki's mouth before his friend could ask more stupid question. "It's nice to have your lecture again, Sensei." He turned his attention to the tall man.

"Heffh meeh gewwh!" Misaki tried to pull away from Fushimi. "Yeuff stahfeed, maankhhy!"

Or, perhaps Fushimi had decided to be a mother monkey for Misaki.

Bad metaphor.

Kokujouji began to develop headache. He wondered why these two had chosen to pick his class. Certainly his class was one of the most boring—he had admitted long time ago—and dreadful subjects ever. His class was not popular, not like his next door neighbor Professor Totsuka Tatara who taught English for International Politics. Students loved Totsuka's class because he had such unconventional, creative method like board game and plenty of watching historical movies. After all, it would be very difficult to learn about political science theories from board game.

Ten minutes later, other students were coming and soon the seats in the room were full. Kokujouji began his lecture with an explanation on how Kenneth Waltz had come up with neo-realism theory. From the corner of his eye, Kokujouji caught a student yawning. Yep. Boring class, he knew. The man hoped he could finish the class before all his students—excluding Fushimi—fell asleep. Luckily, since it was only the first class in this fall semester, Kokujouji spared his students from two and a half hours lecture and dismissed those students around thirty minutes after he had started. The student lightened up and scrambled on their feet to get out of the classroom.

Misaki and Fushimi were the last to leave. "Sensei, I heard from Totsuka-sensei you received research grant from Ministry of Education for second time," said Fushimi.

Totsuka and his big mouth…

"Yes, I—"

"Wuaaah, Sensei! You are so cool!"

"Misaki, stop acting like a kid." Fushimi pinched Misaki's nose, making his friend cry in surprise. "Sorry, Sensei, he still needs some training."

"Good…luck with that, Fushimi-san."

Fushimi nodded. "Thank you, Sensei, and congratulation for your research grand. We'll see you next week. Misaki, stop whining or I'll make sure you can't inhale oxygen anymore."

As the two boys disappeared behind the door, Kokujouji put away his belongings into his bag and moved swiftly to his office. He had no more lecture for today so he decided to work on his journal article and prepare for tomorrow's class. He taught two subjects this semester along with a joint-research with Faculty of Law. Taking an elevator to fourth floor, Kokujouji's mind arranged tomorrow's hectic schedule. He was a man of schedule. That was why his schedule book was filled by notes and numbers in which for other people seemed so random. The elevator door slid open and Kokujouji was still in his own world making the schedule. Morning meeting with the dean, lecture before lunch, check the research progress, go to the administration office to ask for—

"Are you going to stand there and let the door squish you?"

Kokujouji looked up just in time the door was about to slide close. He hurriedly stepped out of the metal box but halted right before a video camera. "Are you recording this, Totsuka?" he asked, frowning.

"Why of course." Totsuka smiled cheerfully. "Okay, Kokujouji-san. You are going to be my subject for today. So, everyone, this man is Kokujouji Daikaku-san, an assistant professor in Faculty of Political Science. He was born—hmm, when were you born?"

"September 30," answered Kokujouji instantly. "I need to go back to my office."

Totsuka ignored him completely. "Kokujouji Daikaku-san was born in September 30 in Tokyo. He attended local high school and studied Political Science in public university focusing on Political Theories, National Defense Policy, as well as uhmmm…"

"Japanese Military History." Kokujouji added. Wait a minute. Why did he keep providing his colleague with such information? "Totsuka, stop fooling around and do your job."

"Yes, yes…just a moment please. So, as you can see, people, Kokujouji-san isn't a kind of man who likes to joke. I don't think he ever jokes, though. Anyway, Kokujouji-san has some good points. He's super smart and…rather handsome, isn't he?"

Kokujouji sputtered. "W-wha…"

"Ooooh, he's blushing." This time, Totsuka grinned. He changed the angle of his camera so now he was shooting Kokujouji's reddened left cheek. "How surprising. Kokujouji Daikaku-san is easily embarrassed by a simple compliment."

The taller man groaned. He covered the camera lens with his big palm then half-ran into his office. From the corner of his eye, Kokujouji caught Totsuka smiling smugly. Damn the man and his weird sense of humor. Kokujouji closed the door and put the class material on his desk. His office was located on the edge of hallway and had two windows that showed him parking lot and garden with row of ginko trees. He liked looking at those trees during autumn. The yellow color went along with the clear autumn sky and red/brown leaves of maple trees on background. Autumn was definitely his favorite season.

Recently, he had just noticed how the scenery behind the window had not changed since five years ago when he had moved to Shizume City's Ashinaka Academy University to take a position as an assistant professor. Ashinaka Academy was famous and well-established academy located in man-made island which was connected by a bridge to Japan's main land. Schools and research centers dominated two third area of the island while the rest was dedicated to support its residents' needs such as apartment complex, entertainment district and department store. Kokujouji himself had decided to live in the island even though there was no rule for faculty staff to reside there while most of students aged 15 and above stayed in academy dormitories. Because of the island's complete and great facilities, Kokujouji had no need to step out of this place so often.

Since when did my life become this dull?

Sighing, Kokujouji sat down on his chair and turned his laptop on just in time Totsuka made another appearance. The brunet man had not bothered to knock. Kokujouji suppressed an urge to flinch when he saw the video camera on his colleague's right hand. "What is it, Totsuka-san?" asked Kokujouji while flipping through a monthly university magazine.

"Are you busy this evening?"

Kokujouji unconsciously twitched a little. The last time Totsuka had asked him the exact same question, he had ended up being dragged to a night club. "Yes, I am busy."

"Really?" The man in front of him began studying a book shelf and pulled a thick encyclopedia in German language.

"I have papers to grade."

Totsuka smiled without turning his eyes from the encyclopedia's front cover. "You are such a bad liar, Kokujouji-san. So, are you busy this evening?"

Among his colleagues, Totsuka Tatara—despite two years younger—was the only one who could talk to him casually. After all, people did not really talk to Kokujouji. His too-serious demeanor made people keep some distant. Kokujouji did not mind since he preferred to be left alone. He was no good in social interaction, unlike Totsuka who easily mingled with new people. He was not a kind of person that would go spend a day off having lunch with friends. Heck, he did not even know whether he had another friend beside Totsuka.

When Kokujouji did not say anything, Totsuka smiled. "Great, let's have a drink in HOMRA then! See you, Kokujouji-san!" He waved and stepped out of the office.

Kokujouji muttered something about how carefree Totsuka was before putting away the university magazine. He had a journal article to write for the rest of this afternoon.

Around seven in the evening, Kokujouji and Totsuka met at faculty lobby then walked to bus stop. They had decided to take the train to main land since neither would take any risk driving under alcohol influence. Besides, today was Friday and tomorrow they did not need to show up for work. It only took around five minutes from the Ashinaka Station to the main island. They shared the ride with many older students who would also enjoy the Friday night. While the middle and high school students had curfew applied for dormitories, university students had more freedom. The dormitory rules were not strict and they could choose between living in dorm and private housing recommended by academy's student welfare office. Lately, house sharing was so popular among undergraduate students.

Kokujouji was about to exit the Shizume City main land's station when he bumped into someone's shoulder. "Oh, sorry!" said than person then bowed slightly. Kokujouji caught a glimpse of slender body and silver hair that somehow reminded him a lot of winter sky in Germany.

"Kokujouji-san?" Totsuka's voice called his name.

The taller man blinked and he only saw crowd of people. "I'm coming," he said, following Totsuka to the street outside the station.

They reached HOMRA around fifteen minutes later.

"Welcome, Kokujouji-san," greeted the bartender warmly, "Oi, nice to see you Tatara! How are you two doing?"

Totsuka smiled at the man while Kokujouji only nodded. They settled down on their usual seat on the bar. "We're doing great, Izumo," said Totsuka, "I see the business is going well. Did you buy new set of sofa?" He gestured at sofa beside a window.

Kusanagi nodded. "Yeah, I had it sent from England."

"I hope your Seri-chan didn't lecture you about buying more antique furniture," Totsuka laughed.

"Actually, Seri-chan was the one who picked the sofa." Kusanagi shrugged as he poured them drink. "She has great taste on interior design but too bad she has no interest on it."

"Of course, she is." Totsuka reached for his cocktail then sipped a little. "Excellent…"

"Thanks," said Kusanagi, beaming from the approval.

Kokujouji observed those two quietly. Totsuka and Kusanagi had been friends for a long time, even before Kusanagi had opened the bar. They had attended high school together shared apartment during university time. Totsuka had introduced HOMRA to Kokujouji two years ago and since then he had been a regular. HOMRA, Kokujouji had admitted, was a nice place to spend an evening. He enjoyed listening to classical and jazz music played from a gramophone behind the bar. The customers here were mostly adults in their late twenties to early forties so he did not have to worry about noisy youngsters. More importantly, Kokujouji enjoyed Kusanagi's company since the blond man never pushed him into conversation.

Kusanagi began telling Totsuka and Kokujouji about his daughter, Anna. The little girl would turn eight next December and he planned to give her birthday surprise. "I don't know what kind of present I should buy for her," Kusanagi sighed, "Anna is...you know; she's a very unpredictable child. She's much more mature than girls around her age."

"Hmmm..." Totsuka hummed. "I think Anna will like anything you give. After all, you are her favorite person."

"After Seri-chan, of course." Kusanagi laughed and noticed Kokujouji's now empty glass. "Kokujouji-san, do you want more—"

His sentence was cut by a jingling bell hung on the entrance door.

A man stepped into. He wore a pair of black plants and plain light blue bottom up shirt with grey cardigan. His hair was shoulder length and framed his face perfectly. Kokujouji was stunned by its color—silver. The color he had just seen less than an hour ago at train station. The color of winter sky that he had missed so much. The man on the entrance looked up and glanced at the bar's direction. His eyes met Kokujouji's briefly and at that moment Kokujouji felt his presence was absorbed into those blue orbs. The man was breathtaking and beautiful but it was not a kind of beauty that made him want to see more. Then what was it? His stomach was twisted all of a sudden, turning the world into blurry surface—strange yet so pleasant.

"Welcome to HOMRA." Kusanagi's greeting almost startled Kokujouji who had been sitting so still like a marble statue. "Is it your first time here?"

The silver haired man looked at the three at the moment before nodding. "Yes, I... I didn't know they got this kind of place in this area. I thought I was back to England."

"Well, you didn't get it wrong though. The previous owner imported this bar from England." Kusanagi patted the wooden surface and gestured his new customer to sit. "What would you like to drink this evening, Sir?" He asked.

The silver haired man laughed. His voice sounded like a distant wave on the ocean—at least that what was Kokujouji had imagined. "I'm feeling like drinking Cognac."

"What about a glass of Stringer?" Kisanagi offered.

"You read my mind." The man smiled again. He turned into other two men who sat next to him. "Hello."

"Hello. You did choose a great place. He..." Totsuka pointed at Kisanagi. "won the first prize on last year's national cocktail competition."

"Really? Congratulations!" He said genuinely.

"Thank you, Sir." Kusanagi poured cognac and crème de menthe into mixing glass before shaking it.

"Please, you can stop with formal addressing. Call me Adolf. What's your name, Mr. Bartender?"

Kusanagi poured the mixed drink to the glass. "My name is Kusanagi Izumo. My regulars often call me owner while my friends here...well, they can address me whatever they want."

"Oh, you are also the owner, very nice. I'll call you Kusanagi."

Totsuka extended his right hand. "My name is Totsuka Tatara, a regular and Izumo's friend. And this man..." He pointed his left thumb at the black haired. "His name is Kokujouji Daikaku."

Adolf smiled widely and shook Totsuka's hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, guys."

Next to Totsuka, Kokujouji did not know whether had to shake the man's hand too or just kept staring at the floor. Well, he could start counting scrape marks on the old, dark wooden surface... A small nudge on his ribs from Totsuka and suddenly Kokujouji's head jerked up to meet Adolf's blue eyes again. Kokujouji opened his mouth to speak but he failed to form any word as soon as he saw the corner of Adolf's mouth curled into soft smile.

Great.

Just great...

Luckily, Kusanagi came into rescue. "Did you come from Germany?"

Adolf turned his head to Kusanagi. "I was born in Berlin but my family moved to Kyoto when I was three, and have been in Japan for all my life except a year in England for exchange program."

"Interesting...," said Totsuka, "Oh, Kokujouji-san here also speaks German. He has so many encyclopedia and other thick books in German language."

Kokujouji threw a deadly glare at Totsuka as Kusanagi snickered loudly. Adolf was looking at them in such interest. No, he was looking at Kokujouji in such way that made the taller man fidget. Kokujouji wanted to bang his head into bar counter, cursing himself. He had to stop acting like a high school student with raging hormone. Wait...raging hormone?

Get a grip, Daikaku.

Suddenly they heard beeping sound. Adolf quickly pulled his smart phone out of his pocket then tapped on its screen several times. "It seems that I have to go now," he said, placing two thousand bills on the counter but Kusanagi quickly handed it back to Adolf.

"First time is on the house."

"Then, I guess I'll see you later?"

"You're always welcome." Kusanagi smiled. He had already taken a like on the man. Adolf was really easy to get along with.

Adolf stood up and straightened his cardigan. He looked down at Kokujouji and Totsuka. "I hope we can meet again next time."

When Adolf closed the door, Totsuka glanced at Kokujouji. "Please don't be sad, Kokujouji-san..."

Kokujouji could not help but blush furiously and Kusanagi threw his head back, laughing loudly.

The next morning, Kokujouji woke up with the strangest feeling ever. He had had a dream about winter sky and blue clouds. The man shook his head, thinking how weird his dream had been. Rolling lazily on bed, his eyes narrowed a little as the first sun ray hit the room through the space between window curtains. He remembered about last night—the drinks and the conversation. The silver hair and blue orbs. Gods... Kokujouji immediately jumped out of his bed to take a long cold shower and emerged just in time for morning news on TV. Kokujouji put kettle on stove and rummaged through his kitchen cabinet then noticed he had nothing but canned soup there, not even a slice of bread. He needed to do grocery shopping soon.

The joy of being single man, he thought, that you can skip breakfast without getting any long lecture about healthy lifestyle from anyone.

Well, except from his mother. She often nagged about Kokujouji's living habit. She complained on how many times Kokujouji had ordered take-out or eaten convenience food lunch box. She also asked a lot whether he had already had girlfriend yet. Daikaku, you must at least have someone in mind, said her. And it was a sore spot to discuss, especially during family gathering. All his brothers had gotten married and his oldest nephew was engaged already. Kokujouji's father was no different. The old man could not stop pushing him for going to arranged marriage. Every time Kokujouji went home, his father had been ready to give him picture of potential wife. You are not getting any younger, Daikaku; you have already run out of excuse, his father scolded, and, no, being the youngest child doesn't mind you can slack off. No son of mine will be a single man for his entire life. Meanwhile, his sisters-in-law had somehow joined force with his parents as they tried to introduce Kokujouji to any single female friend.

Loud whistling sound brought Kokujouji back from his over thinking mind. He turned off the stove and poured the boiling water into French press, observing how the water gradually turned into darker color. He leaned against kitchen counter then watched the news on TV. It was a live report from one Arabic country that was currently on civil war. Living in peaceful place like Japan made the image of running people and armed civilians roaming around city looked like a dream from distant world. Human beings are only small fragments in this big world. They always wanted more, yet they did not know about anything. They often were left gaping, staring helplessly at unfortunate things they could not even prevent, like Mother Nature—the tsunami in 2011 and the recent eruption in Mount Ontake that killed more than thirty people.

Kokujouji lit up a cigarette.

Thinking too hard on Saturday morning would bring him nothing good. Why did he tend to overanalyze everything? Oh, how he wished his life could have been less complicated.

Kokujouji stared at the swaying smoke coming from his cigarette. Suddenly he remembered the silver haired man again. Damn.

The man—Adolf—had caught him off guard. Yes… Adolf was beautiful—a beauty he had rarely seen in this place yet seemed so familiar. Adolf's hair was a sky during the coldest days of winter. His pale skin was a falling snow on deserted, unknown open field. Yet, the blue eyes were warm ocean water on midsummer, drawing you closer and deeper—leaving you wanting for more. His voice was sweet autumn wind teasing just above the ground. And the smile… Gosh, his smile was something.

He growled. He had just thought dreamily about a man he barely knew.

Crazy.

.

.

tbc