I was considering doing something with the tradition/concept of shudÅ but this fits the theme so much better lul.
Galleth will probably be next~
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The safehouse is quiet when Sly steps in.
He expected that, of course. Bentley and Murray are out collecting fish, and Rioichi's quiet pretty much no matter what. Came with being a ninja. The problem is, this isn't the right kind of quiet. To use a cliched but oh-so-true phrase, it is too quiet...
Sly shifts his grip on his cane and creeps forward. Worst-case scenarios flash through his mind - safehouse trashed, van stolen, Rioichi missing or dying or dead - god, Rioichi dead, how could they even begin to fix that...?
Turns out that the safehouse is not, in fact, trashed. The contents of the shelves and table are exactly where they were when he'd left, and the van's in its proper place, too, nestled in its nook. At first glance Rioichi appears to be missing, and Sly's stomach clenches at the thought of his being captured. Again. There is a joke about terrible ninjas waiting to be made, but now is most definitely not the time.
By his third survey of the room, Sly still hasn't spotted Rioichi, and now he's really getting worried. There's no sign of a struggle, which is about the only thing stopping him from panicking. On the other hand there isn't any indication of where he's gone, if he's at his restaurant or went out for a walk, or anything. Okay, he is a grown man, he is more than able to take care of himself, but Sly figures he has every reason to worry. This is kind of a life-or-death situation, and -
Oh.
Rioichi sits crosslegged on the floor, half-obscured by one chair, chin dipped against his chest. It's amazing how well he blends into the rock despite his coloration. The quietness makes sense, now; Sly recognizes that as a meditative pose. Probably best to not disturb him...
Except as he gets closer, he can see that something is... off. Rioichi isn't actually perfectly quiet, nor perfectly still. He's taking quiet, shuddering breaths, tensed from his shoulders to the tip of his tail. That in itself is worrying. As is the fact that he apparently hasn't noticed Sly's presence yet. Not even a twitch of an ear to say 'I hear you crashing around over there'.
"Rioichi?"
When he doesn't respond to that, either, Sly frowns, coming to stand beside him and leaning down to put his hand on his shoulder.
The reaction to that is instant; one moment Rioichi's more or less still, the next he's whipped a dagger out of his belt. The movement continues up and forward, and Sly flings himself backward in a desperate attempt to dodge the slash aimed at his throat.
It doesn't work. Rioichi moves with him and they both topple backwards, water splashing up around them. The breath whooshes out of Sly's lungs as he hits the floor, because Rioichi may be stick-thin but he's still plenty heavy to cause breathing issues. He's also plenty strong; Sly struggles to get his legs under him to kick Rioichi off but he's having none of that, deftly twining his limbs around Sly's to keep him in place -
And then the dagger presses against Sly's neck and he goes still. For a single terrifying moment all he can think is this is it, this is how I'm going to die...
Something snaps Rioichi out of his sudden homicidal streak, the blank focus in his eyes abruptly switching to surprise. The dagger's pulled away as fast as it came out, vanishing back into its sheath, and Rioichi seems to retreat into himself. With a murmured, "My apologies, Sly-san," he returns to his meditative pose.
Sly belatedly realizes that not only was Rioichi's knife hand shaking, his entire body had been. What is going on?
They sit there like that for a few minutes - Rioichi apparently trying to go back to meditating, Sly slowly sitting up and trying to figure out what to do. Rioichi seems to have stopped shaking, but he's still gasping more than breathing. Something obviously isn't right, and he has to do something, but apparently touching is a bad idea. Maybe talking is a bad idea, too, that isn't very conducive to meditation. But that kind of reaction...
Sly shuffles closer, turning his body and raising his shoulder so his neck isn't so exposed. "Rioichi?"
There's no reaction. Sly's not sure what he was expecting. But it isn't like he can just... give up. Rioichi will push him away if he doesn't want him there. Okay, the 'attempting to stab you' would probably count as pushing away, but that seemed more like an automatic reaction than anything else. Like he wasn't entirely in control of himself.
So he tries putting his hand on Rioichi's shoulder again. If he throws me off, Sly tells himself, I'll leave him alone.
He doesn't. He actually leans into it, this time, and then farther, pressing himself into Sly's side. The shaking still hasn't stopped - he was just hiding it better. With Rioichi pressed against him, he can feel every tremor in the painfully bony body. (And that's strange, too, he'd thought Rioichi was heavier than that, not least because he'd just had the man lying on top of him - the fur and the clothing hides a lot, it seems.)
And that... Sly doesn't know what to do with that. This is way past his experience. Especially with Rioichi Cooper, of all people. The Thievius Raccoonus, historical records, and now Rioichi himself had always given the impression of stoicism even in the most dire of situations. He was, Sly had thought, not a man given to bouts of emotion.
Doesn't change the fact that he needs help, though. Sly remembers Murray's perpetual nervousness from years and years ago, and, well, this can't be too different, can it? So he wraps his arm around Rioichi's thin shoulders and pulls him to his chest.
Rioichi's clipped breaths pause, and then he starts taking deep, slow ones instead. There's a slight pressure on Sly's knee, and he looks down to see Rioichi's fingers tangled in the fur there, gripping but not pulling.
Bit by bit, the trembling slows, then stops.
Rioichi's calm, or as near as Sly can tell he is; his breathing is even and slow, and the tenseness has left his body. He doesn't move, and Sly isn't inclined to make him. It's sort of... comfortable like this, even if his side's cramped up from leaning just a bit too much sideways, even if his ass is half-frozen and uncomfortably damp. It's like sitting on his dad's knee, years ago, just with the positions reversed; it's like sleeping in the blanket forts with Bentley and Murray, piled on each other as much as the stolen pillows. It's... family.
Of course, Bentley and Murray choose that exact moment to return. Sly would have no problems staying right where he is, because it's them, but Rioichi apparently disagrees. One moment he's there and the next he's... not, having disentangled himself and risen to his feet in one absurdly graceful movement. By the time Bentley and Murray enter the safehouse proper, Rioichi's across the room examining the treasures scattered over the shelves, giving absolutely no indication that he'd been sitting on the floor five seconds before.
Sly, of course, still has his butt planted on the cold floor, and he's quite aware he looks rather silly. Murray kind of stares for a second before accepting it and moving on, while Bentley raises an eyebrow. Sly shakes his head, hyper-aware of Rioichi's close attention. He may be looking away, but he's got ears, he's got a brain. Explaining will have to wait until later.
Bentley shrugs and accepts it, too, launching into the details of their just-completed mission and the steps in the next phase of the plan.
Sly relocates to his chair and tries to pretend he's not rubbing circulation back into his butt. None of them buy it; Bentley's smirking the whole time he's talking, Murray keeps chuckling, and Rioichi looks distinctly amused. (And why isn't his butt frozen too? Life is just not fair.)
Then when Bentley's not looking, busy gesturing at his holoprojection, Rioichi gives Sly a short, curt nod, and Sly supposes that is the most emotional thank-you that Rioichi can give.
x-
"Sly-san."
The quiet voice makes Sly turn. Rioichi stands with his hands clasped behind his back, body half-obscured in shadow - old habits die hard, and Sly's glad he's not the only one with that particular habit. Drove Carmelita nuts, when she thought he'd had amnesia... and that was most definitely not something he needed to be thinking about right now.
"What's up, Rioichi?"
Rioichi looks up at the ceiling, first, still not used to that particular bit of slang, before giving Sly an unimpressed look. Sly grins and mutters a mostly-sincere apology. Wasn't like he'd done it on purpose, and the reaction was kind of amusing...
Rioichi's gaze slides past his shoulder, and Sly's smile fades. A glance over his shoulder reveals that Murray's there, messing with something or other on the van, and a second look at Rioichi reveals he's refocused on the exit, at which point it becomes obvious what he wants.
"Hey, Murray? Rioichi and I are going to go out for a minute. Let Bentley know whenever he emerges, will you?"
Murray looks back and forth between them, at Sly's fake cheer and Rioichi's lack of expression, and whatever people say about Murray's intelligence, he is more than perceptive enough to know this isn't something he can ask about quite yet.
"Sure, Sly. Don't take too long, you know how he gets."
"Sure thing, pal."
They step outside and Rioichi takes the lead, walking in the shadows with the assurance born of years following the same paths. Sly's no slouch at stealth, but Rioichi is undoubtedly the master. He blends apparently without effort into things he has no right to be able to blend with; every step is whisper-silent, without even a breeze to rustle leaves. Sly has absolutely no clue how he does it, and imagines he never will. So he follows and admires and hopes he ends up absorbing some tiny bit of knowledge.
(Every several steps Rioichi makes an odd flicking motion with his wrist, apparently on automatic. It takes Sly a few minutes to figure it out, and then he kicks himself for it because he does the exact same thing. It's the lack of cane where there should be one, the attempt to adjust a grip that doesn't exist. It really is a Cooper thing, then.)
They arrive at Rioichi's restaurant, and though El Jefe's guards have scattered Rioichi apparently isn't taking any chances. He climbs up to one window, Sly following, and they slip inside.
It's dark and empty, as is expected. There's also bottles of booze scattered everywhere, which is less expected but not particularly surprising. Rioichi wrinkles his nose and mutters something that Sly doesn't quite catch, but there is definitely a lot of... feeling in there. He grins. Apparently Rioichi's capable of being irritated after all.
They head into the kitchen, delicately stepping around broken glass and pottery. Sly doesn't envy Rioichi the job of cleaning all this up, and probably replacing it, too. It's going to be a while before this restaurant is producing delicacies again.
Rioichi picks up his cleaver and one of the cutting knives, and Sly tries to make it look like he isn't putting the counter between them. His last encounter with Rioichi and pointy objects is still fresh in his mind. Not that putting the counter between them will do much good, mind you, but it makes him feel slightly safer.
Rioichi ignores him, however, instead beginning to gather together cooking implements and ingredients. Sly tries to hide the disgust when he brings out the fish; he likes sushi and all, but Rioichi's sushi is definitely not the same as the sushi he's used to because it smells like a bad combination of rot and Bentley after burrito night.
(Then he notices Rioichi's making a face, too, and then he's more preoccupied with trying not to laugh than trying not to look disgusted.)
There is a certain fascination to watching Rioichi work. He approaches meal preparation the same way he approaches everything else: with precision, speed, and grace. It's mesmerizing, in a way, almost as good as the clink of coins or the weight of a priceless artifact under one's arm.
The kitchen is silent for several minutes, save for the thok of Rioichi's knives against the cutting board. Sly trusts Rioichi to talk eventually, whenever he works up the courage, or figures out what he's saying, or whatever's going through his head right now. And sure enough -
"I am grateful for your presence here. You have my thanks, Sly-san."
Sly has a feeling he's not really talking about the watching him cook thing. "No problem. I'm glad to help."
"The tiger may be the most feared hunter, but it is not without its weaknesses," Rioichi continues. He appears to be focused on cutting a piece of fish; he must be trying to distract himself enough to actually say what he came here to say. Sly stays quiet this time, letting him talk. "I have honed my crafts for years but I am still subject to the imperfections of my own mind. There are times when I become... paralyzed with an unusual type of fear. I often do not know what causes these events. Sometimes they are in response to difficulties I face, but it is more common for the reasons to remain hidden from me."
And that... kind of explains that weird behaviour in the safehouse, doesn't it? And later, too, the freezing and the beginnings of panic when El Jefe stole his cane. Mystery solved, then.
"I have learned to calm myself during those times through discipline and meditation. Sometimes, it is not enough, and so I have trained myself to react defensively if disturbed."
He looks up, watching Sly from under his hood, and Sly pretty easily works out the meaning behind that, too. The whole 'trying to slit your throat' thing really had been an automatic reaction, then, which was definitely a relief. No murderous ancestors here.
"For many years I have controlled this fear alone. The path of the ninja is a solitary one." Rioichi looks back down, and... hesitates. It feels like he's forcing the words out through sheer willpower. "But many years ago, when I was a child and my father still lived, he would guide me through the fear." There's another pause, longer this time, and Sly almost says something before Rioichi's quiet voice interrupts him again. "You are very much like him, Sly-san. It is... comforting."
Rioichi falls silent and still, his expression impossible to make out. It takes Sly a second to realize he's embarrassed, and probably afraid he's going to be laughed at or disbelieved, too. So he reaches across the counter, taking ahold of Rioichi's wrist. Rioichi looks up, and for a moment he looks strangely... vulnerable.
"I'm glad to help," Sly murmurs, and desperately tries to figure out what to say because he hasn't the faintest clue of where he's going with this, but this is important, this is make-it-or-break-it. "I really mean that. I admire you a lot, Rioichi, and - you're family. If there's anything I can do, anything at all, just... say the word."
Rioichi studies him for several long seconds, and then he lets go of his knife and returns Sly's grasp, like they're in the middle of some kind of weird fraternity handshake or something. "Return before I die. I would like to see you again before my time comes. ...Please."
The message is clear: I don't want you to leave me. That hidden request, he can't fulfill that one, but the other - well, it isn't like he can refuse that, can he? Not that he'd ever want to. "Of course. I will. That's a promise."
Rioichi rewards him with a small, shy smile, and Sly grins back. Then the fact that he's leaning directly over the bit of food responsible for the stench suffusing the room really hits his nose, and Rioichi's smile turns amused.
"I do not think the career of sushi chef is in your future, Sly-san."
"No," Sly agrees, and leans back before he starts gagging. "Don't think I'm cut out for that."
With his hand freed up again, Rioichi goes back to cutting, and... and he's smirking. He is definitely smirking. "It may do you good to become used to the smell, however. This dish is a gift for Bentley-san, Murray-san, and yourself."
"...You are evil. The van's going to smell for weeks."
"Indeed."