14.
"Jirou, stop pacing."
"It's seven thirty," Jirou said, refusing to stop his pace. "Why isn't Atobe back yet?"
Jirou didn't even get why he was worried. Atobe knew all of his cabins' land like the back of his hand. But he was still worried. He was worried Oshitari killed him and dumped him in the lake. He was worried Oshitari and him had a fight, and he was up in the mountain with a major concussion.
But what scared Jirou the most was that Oshitari had come back alone and immediately went to check on Mukahi. It wasn't his actions that worried him… it was the smirk he gave Jirou when he walked by to go upstairs. It was the fact that everyone besides Marui left him to eat dinner. It was the fact that no one seemed to care that Atobe hadn't come back yet, not even Kabaji.
"You should go eat," Jirou said, finally stopping.
Marui shook his head. "Niou said he'd get me some bread or something if we don't come in before dinner ends. I'm fine, really." His stomach growled. "Er… I mean, I can wait."
Jirou walked over to the sofa that circled the fireplace and sat down, sighing. "Where is he?"
Marui walked over to the blonde and sat down next to him. "You really like him, don't you?"
Jirou's face turned beat red and he shook his head furiously. "No," he said, not sure if he was lying or not (at this point, he wasn't sure what he was feeling). "It's just – well, he's my best friend. How would you feel if it was Niou out there?"
Marui rubbed the back of his head. "I'd probably be outside screaming until I lost my voice."
"Exactly," Jirou said, his voice weak. "I'm scared. He's never late. Even when he says he's going to the restroom and will be back in a minute, he's always back in exactly one minute. He's just weird like that."
"Then he'll be back," Marui reassured him.
Jirou groaned, tossing his head back. "I don't get why I'm not outside screaming my lungs out."
"Because Niou and Atobe are different; Niou would kick my ass if I didn't go out to look for him, and Atobe would kick your ass if you did – they're like polar opposites."
"Yeah, they are." Jirou pulled his head back up and tucked his knees into his chest. "How mad would he get if I ran outside looking for him?"
"He'd shove his foot up your ass."
Jirou made a whimper-like noise, rubbing his back – it was hurting again, and he really needed another massage. The stress of Atobe being missing really wasn't helping his pain, either. "Why am I so worried?"
Marui watched his friend bury his head in his knees, and felt a lump in his throat. He knew that Atobe could be an ass at times, but he never expected him to do this to Jirou.
.
Outside, by the side of the cabin, Atobe was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed up against his ear.
"I know it can't wait any longer," Atobe said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but I don't want there to be just a forty-two percent success rate. I found a doctor in Italy who –"
Atobe kicked the side of the house. This guy was really starting to piss him off.
"I know the surgery needs to be performed immediately," he hissed, "but I told you, the doctor from Italy could be here by –" Atobe was cut off. He sighed, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down until he was sitting in the grass. "Can't it wait one more day? Is that really going to kill her?"
"Yes," the man replied.
Atobe never knew that one world could make his stomach turn like that.
"Okay," Atobe said after a moment, "do the surgery. But if anything goes wrong, you'll never practice medicine in Japan again."
Atobe snapped his phone shut and held it between his hands, closing his eyes. He tossed his head back, hitting it against the side of the cabin. He took in a few deep breaths and then got himself together. He could handle this. His father had raised him to be a strong, composed man.
Why should I listen to what my father says? He's the reason she's…
Atobe opened his eyes and looked at the mountains in front of him, wishing Jirou was next to him. Jirou always knew how to make him laugh. Jirou always knew what to say. Jirou always knew when to shut up and just sit next to him in complete silence. Jirou understood him in a way that no one else could.
Atobe forced himself up, slipped his phone into his pocket, and then turned to walk towards the front of the cabin. He let himself in, hoping to just sneak up to his room and sleep. However, much to his displeasure (and pleasure), the first thing he saw was Jirou – the pleasure being seeing Jirou, the displeasure being the petrified expression the blonde was wearing.
"Why am I so worried?" Jirou asked with his head in his knees.
Does he realize I'm here?
"I don't know why," Marui said. "Either he's not your best friend, or he's something more."
"What do you mean?"
"Best friends trust each other, so if he's your best friend, you wouldn't need to worry. But if he's something more to you, then you have every right in the world to worry."
Atobe closed the door behind him, causing Jirou and Marui to look over at him.
"Atobe?" Jirou shot up off the sofa, jumped over the back, and rushed over to Atobe. He wrapped his arms around his torso, unable to reach his captain's neck. Atobe wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Jirou, to make that sad face go away, but he couldn't, not with Marui watching, not with his façade.
"Jirou," Atobe said, blinking slowly. "Why are you hugging me?"
Jirou pulled back a bit, just enough to look up at him, but kept his arms on Atobe's sides. "You idiot – I was worried about you! Where were you?"
"Outside." Atobe grabbed Jirou's wrists and moved his hands off of him, knowing that if Jirou kept his hands there any longer he would probably never want him to let go. "I received a call just before I came inside. Oshitari said he would tell you where I was."
"Well," Jirou said, taking a few steps back, suddenly feeling very self conscious, "he didn't tell us anything."
Atobe nodded, unsure of what to say. "Why don't you go get something to eat?"
Jirou nodded back, honestly just happy that Atobe was okay (AKA: Oshitari didn't murder him). He grabbed Marui's wrist to drag him along, but the red head said he would be in a moment. Jirou nodded to him, too, and hurried into the dining hall to eat.
When the door shut, Marui turned to Atobe. "What the hell is your problem?"
Atobe raised an eyebrow. "My problem?"
"You scared him half to death. If you scare him again, I'll break your neck."
"Like you could break my neck," he said, using his best poker face. He knew he had scared Jirou half to death, and he felt terrible for it, but he didn't need someone from retarded Rikkaidai shoving it down his throat.
"Just don't hurt him again," Marui said. He walked into the dining hall after that, giving Atobe a glare that could kill before closing the door behind him.
Atobe pinched the bridge of his nose and walked upstairs. He quickly entered the suite he was sharing with his teammates, hurried to his bedroom, and locked the door behind him. He never locked doors, but he just didn't want someone to come barging in.
He collapsed on his bed face first, and then rolled onto his back. He covered his eyes with his palms, his fingers clawing at his hair. He moved his hands, grabbed a pillow, sat up, and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. He touched his sides, right where Jirou's hands had been. He swallowed hard and lied back down, trying to will Jirou's face out of his mind.
No matter how hard he tried to deny it, Jirou drove him insane.
A/N: I am switching to an every-other week updating schedule. To be honest, I am extremely behind on this story, and, well, I'm busy. I'm sorry, but I'm the author, so get over it.
Side Note: I. Love. Baccano! Vino is pure evil, Issac and Mira are fantasticly funny, and the English dubs rock. I highly recommend this anime, if you love the mafia, guns, psychotic killers, and a few laughs.