Title: The Language of Love
Author/Artist: Amethyst Hunter
Pairing: Ban/Akabane
Fandom: Get Backers
Theme: #4 – "our distance and that person"
Rating: R (violence, language, disturbing war imagery)
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for both Ban's and Akabane's pasts.
Notes: A companion piece to Crossroads, so it will make more sense if you've read that one.
- Don't worry, Kagami fans. I may love to torment him, but he doesn't die in this. Really.
- Due to recent health issues and fic length, I'm posting this one in chapters.
Disclaimer: I'd love to own GB's wonderful characters, but guess what? I don't. :cries:
Summary: Call to me, and I will hear you even in the distance…
--
I: Awakening
That does it. No more snacks before bedtime, Ban vowed, rubbing away the crust of evaporating visions from his eyes as Medusa the cat staked her claim on his lap. He shivered, reliving the last several moments of the whopper he'd just had. He and Akabane had been traveling on some kind of cruise ship that had sunk after slamming broadside into an iceberg. The memory of being dragged under the freezing water by the suction of the sinking ship was still fresh, and he clutched the bedcovers tightly.
Normally he wasn't one to put much stock in dreams borne of slumber, but the ones he'd been having lately had given him pause for thought. Ironic, considering that he had the power to weave illusions for others out of sheer will.
Never in his wildest imaginings had Ban ever dreamed that he'd end up with someone, anyone, much less someone like Akabane. He was used to being alone, had spent the majority of his life in solitude despite being surrounded at times by various relatives and acquaintances. At first, when the exasperated tolerance he'd felt when initially dealing with Akabane had melded into a more mellow acceptance of their mutual attraction to one another, Ban had been content to accept the casual comforts of such a relationship. They got along reasonably well (minus the fighting), had enough interests in common, had great sex, and made one hell of a team when working together, both with and without Ginji.
Now things had changed, shifted ever-so-slightly into a paradigm where they had fumbled beyond acceptance into a cautious intimacy that was alien to both of them, for various personal reasons. Talking took place more often than fighting these days, pieces and patchworks cobbled together of each other's lives, thoughts, feelings, unearthed as painstakingly as any buried treasure. A unique trust – once a concept so foreign to Ban, until Ginji had demonstrated to him that it needn't be completely beyond all reach – had flowered between them, and they found themselves asking questions that neither would have dared breach before.
Ban idly scratched Medusa's back while he contemplated this. He couldn't place exactly when this transition had happened, but the difference between then and now was starkly illustrated for him one day not long ago when they had been sparring. Never one to pull punches, Akabane had launched a restrained attack against Ban that the latter had had little difficulty in blocking. Ban remembered the sly twinkle of purple eyes in his face, and the tiny quirk at the corner of his lover's mouth made clear that Akabane was purposely holding back, that he was aware of it, and that this decision wasn't derived solely from a sense of personal amusement at the other man's expense. After that it got harder for Ban to deliver his own blows, even though they'd done this plenty of times in the past without regard to the potential for serious damage – they were both tough enough to withstand most anything the other dealt.
Ban had never been particularly concerned with the consequences of physical altercations he had with the few people he considered close – though he would never have brought malicious harm to Ginji or Himiko, he wasn't shy about handing out a few good smacks to either of them if he felt they deserved it. This had been the case with Akabane as well, during the early stages of their relationship, until Ban quickly learned that such actions could provoke a storm of violence he wasn't prepared to take on, since Akabane misinterpreted them as invitations to battle. Jackal soon adapted to his lover's prickly nature as easily as one accepts the changes in weather, and was quite tolerant in allowing Ban all manner of abuse, up to and including the occasional pummeling in response to something he said or did that irritated Ban.
These days, something in Ban rebelled at the idea of causing harm, however slight, to a person he had begun to care about in a way that exceeded the boundaries of friendship or exasperated tolerance. If Ginji was his brother in the spiritual sense, and Himiko his sister, then Akabane was a kindred soul, a match highlighted by the jackal's own intrigue and willingness to lay aside old wounds in favor of exploring this new avenue of interest. In scaling back his unappealing hobbies, Akabane was almost amusingly eager to please, hungering for attention the way an adoring pet might try to prove its loyalty to an owner – but like a cat aware of its self-image in the eyes of others, he was reserved in how he chose to express his affections. When it was just the two of them, alone, they both found it easier to indulge their emotions.
Ban pondered the dream he'd had, and others similar to it. The night before he'd dreamt that he was speeding down the freeway in the Ladybug, and Akabane had been headed towards him in the opposite direction in his associate No-Brakes' truck. The previous night before that he'd dreamt that they were racing around the top towers of Mugenjou and had ended up clashing in a hold that sent them spinning off solid footing into oblivion. There had been others that had woken him in a sweaty, anxious grip of unease.
Could this latest one be a slice of evidence, proof that fate intended for them to remain eternal adversaries? Was the relationship that they'd managed to create, in spite of all odds, headed for eventual destruction?
Ban didn't like to think about that. It involved opening up the way for other, hidden ideas and truths he was ashamed to admit that he was…afraid…of facing up to. He covered his disturbance with extra sarcasm and gruffness, and if anyone else tried to bring up certain subjects to him he'd shut them down in an instant. He'd even nearly bitten off Ginji's head.
That made him feel guilty, which in turn made him feel more anxious, which made him twice as cantankerous. Poor clueless, eternally softhearted and wonderful Ginji. For all his prowess as a former gang leader he was in many ways ill-equipped to grasp the challenges of the real world. Most Mugenjou denizens were, Ban had noticed. As unpleasant and disturbing a place that was, it was self-contained, a world unto itself, and the rules inside vastly differed from the outside's schedule. Institutionalized, they called it. Somehow Ginji had managed to transcend that baser environment while retaining an unsullied core.
There was still the threat of Raitei, of course. But that was easily dealt with so long as they stayed the hell away from the infinite fortress, whose mysterious atmosphere seemed to draw out the savage in Ginji – and in Akabane – almost like blood through a needle. Mugenjou, Ban knew in his heart of hearts, was more than just a virtual mix of real and alter worlds – it was a strange, chaotic magic centered along principles of its faceless creators' doings.
And magic, he well knew, came in many forms.
Names, for instance. A name was more than just a form of address. It held valuable clues to the essence of a thing, or a person. Entire theologies had been devoted to the naming of children alone.
In naming what could not otherwise be clarified with spoken language, one attained a sort of power over that which formerly escaped and defied categorizing. It was one of the key principles Ban's grandmother had drilled into him from an early age, and sometimes it scared him to think on just how much of her instruction had stuck with him, despite his attempts to rebuff or even ignore it. Much though he hated to admit it, that knowledge had saved his butt on more than one occasion.
In putting a label, a name, on the unorthodox relationship he and Akabane shared, Ban would have had to admit what shook him to his deepest core. That vulnerability wasn't something he was certain he could risk in its entirety.
Or could he?
The future isn't written, he'd said to Ginji and Makubex when the latter expressed his despair over the predictions said to have originated from the Archive, the entity through which the lords of Babylon City drew their inspiration. A couple of bizarre nightmares didn't necessarily mean that fate or the gods or whoever had it in for Ban Midou.
Unless, of course, they actually did.
Given his history of being dogged by arcane factors and those that despised them, Ban wasn't entirely willing to discount that possibility. His own grandmother had set a god-patron on him, and one who was arguably less than thrilled about being bound to a mere corporeal form at that. Ban had always suspected that the real reason Aesclepius stuck with him was not simply because of the complex bonding spells invoked by the Witch Queen, but because the god had his own agenda at heart that necessitated his use of Ban as a medium to act upon the world. Aesclepius could be ruthlessly opportunistic that way – not unlike Ban himself, others might have pointed out.
Ignoring Medusa's indignant chirp as he stopped petting her, he sighed heavily and rested his face in his hands. Where, then, did Akabane play into this equation? By all rights they should be continually at each other's throats instead of shacking up together, much less falling – Ban shook his head.
It was hard, sometimes, to know exactly what was going on inside his boyfriend's mind. They'd made progress, but Akabane kept his own counsel more often than not, and had mastered the art of the runaround reply so that by the time questioning lost its appeal, nothing of substantial value had ever been gained. By all appearances, he appeared content with his lot. But were the hints of something deeper than mutual affection for real, or just a smokescreen for Jackal's own shifty nature?
Some part of Ban argued that this was the real thing, and not just because he wanted to believe it was so. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how to bridge that gap he felt still existed between Akabane and himself – and keep the both of them alive in the process.
--
II: Tongues and Tales
The afternoon was running slow. Hevn hadn't called and none of the flyers he and Ginji had plastered all over town were garnering any responses, and he didn't feel like sitting around the apartment all day, so Ban decided to get some fresh air. Akabane was out on a job; the transporter wouldn't return until late.
He prowled the downtown area for a while, not finding much to interest him, although he wasn't really looking anyway. The dream from this morning and his subsequent musings had taken up precedence in his mind.
Small wonder, then, that he eventually found his way into a bar he'd liked to frequent back when Yamato was still alive. They'd occasionally come here to locate contacts, and Yamato had introduced Ban to the joys of alcohol. After Yamato's death and before he met Ginji, Ban had found dreary solace in the bottoms of many an ale mug as he'd drunk himself into a stupor. The only reason he hadn't descended into flat-out alcoholism was because his pride was too stubborn to permit him that disgrace.
When he entered the bar he was gratified to see that not many patrons were milling about. It was early. Ban sat down in a back corner, preferring to drink and watch and be alone with his restless thoughts.
It was when the server brought him his order that he felt a peculiar sensation, like the prickles of an insect's legs on his skin. Irritated at the idea that some nosy teetotaler might be spying on his broodfest, Ban chanced a scowling look over his shoulder and froze as the hair on the back of his neck jumped to attention. His memory was still fresh from the Venus incident, even if he and the Mirokus had later settled on an uneasy truce. Ban turned back to his drink, wondering if it was worth the risk to approach Natsuhiko.
The other man gave him little time to make his decision. Just as Ban had decided to toss out some coins for his beer and leave a hand clapped down on his shoulder and a cool voice murmured near his ear. "Fancy meeting you here, stranger."
Ban fought the urge to throw off the hand touching him, until Natsuhiko had withdrawn to the seat next to him. He regarded his former childhood friend with wary studiousness. "You're not here on business, are you?"
Indigo eyes fixed him with a level stare. "Are you here on retrieval interests?"
"No."
"Then I'd say you have nothing to worry about," Natsuhiko returned smoothly, tapping one side of his beer mug with a finger.
"Seeing your bunch is always cause for worry," Ban grumbled, sloshing away the last of his beer. He signaled the bartender for another round – might as well get thoroughly soused if he was going to hang around Miroku.
"Still as argumentative as ever," the other man chuckled. "I suppose it's nice to know that some things never change." Natsuhiko sipped his beer and they sat in silence for several minutes while Ban's fresh glass arrived and he drained a fourth of it before they returned to conversing.
"You ever get paid for your stint as a protector on the Venus job, or did your employer stiff you after we got away with the arms?" Ban asked, mainly because he couldn't think of anything else to discuss and that mess was something they could both relate to, even if from opposite ends.
"We were paid. As unpleasant a woman as Hera-san was to deal with, she was honorable in her word. That much I can give her." Natsuhiko glanced at Ban and when next the retriever blinked, he was facing Yukihiko.
"How's Ginji-kun doing?"
Ban looked into the swirls of foam decorating the inner sides of his mug. "He's fine."
Yukihiko smiled. "Please tell him I said hello." Ban nodded and looked up again to find Natsuhiko back in place.
The other man offered a wry smile. "Had to let the squirt say his piece. He was quite taken with your friend when they met that time."
"Most people are when they get to know Ginji." In spite of himself Ban smiled, remembering his own initial encounter. "But you didn't come here to talk about that," he added after another drink of beer, suspicion coloring his tone.
Natsuhiko nodded. "I didn't."
"So what do you want?"
"Just to pass on something I heard recently."
Ban raised a brow. "It's not like you to bother with street gossip."
"Unless it's corroborated by legitimate sources." Natsuhiko's eyes narrowed slightly. He took a long pull at his lager before elaborating. "Word is that you've made a powerful enemy."
"Feh. Tell me something I don't know." Ban gulped another swig of ale.
"It's not something that would be terribly remarkable," Natsuhiko agreed, likewise having another drink. "However, in your case, I think it's noteworthy that you've almost single-handedly managed to incur the wrath of someone from a society as secretive and notorious as the Brain Trust."
"Tell them to take a number and get in line. They want their crack at me, they can wait for it like everyone else," Ban snapped.
Natsuhiko snorted. "I'd have thought witch hunts were a thing of the past for you after you left Germany. Don't tell me you're a nostalgic at heart?"
Ban remained silent, glowering at his drink.
Natsuhiko continued. "Is that why you seem to have fallen for a certain Jackal? The two of you make an interesting couple, I have to admit. And you do seem to have a lot in common. The love of the fight and first blood – "
Ban seized the other man's shirt at the neckline. "Cut the crap, Natsuhiko. We're not here to talk about history."
It wasn't Natsuhiko who replied, however. In the next instant Ban found himself shoved roughly backwards by a sneering Ukyo. "You're a dumb motherfucker, aren't you?"
"Speak for yourself. Put Natsuhiko back, asshole!"
"Fine. I didn't want to talk to your sorry ass anyway," the Miroku hissed. "But if you have any fuckin' brains whatsoever you'll pay attention to my brother. You're in deep shit, Midou, only you're too fuckin' clueless to realize just how far down the poop-pit goes."
"That's enough, Ukyo," a stern tone barked. It was Ukyo's mouth forming the words, but Natsuhiko's was the voice emanating from it, and a second later Ban was looking at the head Miroku himself. If Natsuhiko was unsettled by his brother's crude warning he didn't show it, although his eyes appeared a trace more apprehensive than before. Ban felt a stirring of unease again and wondered if there really was such a thing as fate...
Natsuhiko spoke again. "I won't say that you're in any immediate danger. But there are those who have a window on you. Sooner or later they plan to make their move. I hope for your sake you're prepared to counteract their actions should such a day ever come."
Ban glared at him. "Is that a threat?"
Natsuhiko looked thoughtful. "Consider it a piece of advice from an old friend."
He rose, leaving his half-empty mug on the countertop, and set a hand on Ban's shoulder as he leaned over with a parting murmur.
"Watch your back, Ban. These are strange times we're living in. Who knows what kinds of demons are lurking beneath our noses."
Ban frowned. Strange times indeed, if he could have a conversation with Natsuhiko without it turning into ugly accusation over events long past. He whirled around in his seat then, intending to demand what the hell the other man had meant by that, but the only thing he saw was a flurry of white coat clearing the door, and then Natsuhiko was gone.
--
His old friend's information continued to grate on him like a raw blister, which left Ban in a persistent sour mood even when Akabane arrived home early and they decided to go to the Honky Tonk for coffee and pizza. Akabane tried to greet Ban with a kiss and found himself abruptly rebuffed; puzzled as to what had annoyed his lover but not overly concerned, he chalked it up to Ban's having had a bad day and left it at that.
They entered the Honky Tonk and found the usual assortment of rag-tags gathered – thread-spool, monkey-man, touchy-feely massager and the samurai boy wonder. Shido must have been in a particularly foul state because he immediately started in on Ban, and it wasn't long before Toshiki joined in, the two of them haranguing the retriever with all manner of insults designed to spark off a riot.
Ban did his best to ignore them for the most part. With Natsuhiko's words on his mind he didn't feel like devoting his energies to a battle of wits with those morons. His silence encouraged them, and the nasty taunts kept flying. Since Ginji was absent on a visit to Makubex, they considered Ban fair game for their smear campaign.
Occasionally Akabane would sip his tea and look from Ban to the others, baffled as to both the reason for the hostile escalation and his lover's obvious refusal to take up the gauntlet. Finally he set his cup down and stood up.
"Jackal," Ban muttered warningly around a mouthful of leftover pizza crust, sensing trouble brewing.
Akabane walked over to the gang's table. "Excuse me. I'll thank you to stop that, if you please."
It was as if an iron curtain of silence had suddenly been dropped over the Honky Tonk. Rena's dishes clattered to a halt; Paul's newspaper rustling instantly stilled. Kazuki's and Juubei's conversation went mute. Even Ban was left staring.
If Emishi Haruki had been present, he doubtless would've invented some lame joke about the looming stillness crackling with more tension than his whip.
For his part, Shido was feeling just ornery enough to push the verbal envelope. He leveled a glare at Akabane and growled, "We're not saying anything that isn't true, you know."
"Perhaps." Akabane held the glare with one of his own, his slender brows creasing minutely the way they were wont to do on the rare occasions he was truly angered. "I still don't appreciate your slandering of Midou-kun."
Toshiki snorted. "Well, maybe we don't appreciate his attitude. Did that ever occur to you?"
Akabane's smile was ice. "Such ingratitude for the man who once saved your life."
"Shut up." Toshiki's face had turned a reddish hue. He didn't like thinking about that incident where Ban had had to revive him via mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. "We both did what we had to do. That doesn't change the fact that he's a backstabbing bastard with a forked tongue."
"How odd. Midou-kun has never lied to me before." Akabane cocked his head at them. "Are you perhaps referring to the dispersal of Ginji-kun's former gang and the subsequent dissolution of your association with Fuuchoin Kazuki-san and Kakei Juubei-san? I assure you, such events probably would have happened in time even without Ginji-kun's leaving. Midou-kun is just a convenient scapegoat to blame your dissatisfaction on."
The snarl rising in Toshiki's throat was proof that Akabane's words had hit home. "What do you know about anything? Mugenjou was fine before that snake came along and screwed it all up. We had order. We had peace. We had our friends – our family," Toshiki spat bitterly. "A heartless killer like you wouldn't know about any of that."
"Toshiki – " Kazuki put a hand on the blond's forearm in a futile attempt to restrain him.
"Us, on the other hand, we're loyal to each other. We take care of one another's backs. And from what I've heard, you're more likely to carve up a person's back than protect it." Toshiki stood and jabbed a finger into Akabane's chest. "So don't you tell me how I should or shouldn't behave around people my gut tells me not to trust."
Akabane's calm mask didn't waver. "I can't say as I'm surprised that you would cling so stubbornly to your self-delusions. Humans are notoriously resistant to the idea of change." He glanced at Toshiki's clenched fists, noting the white-knuckled strain. "You fought in the Beltline, did you not? You lived for years in Mugenjou, eking out a living as a hired thug. Can you honestly say that such a place was truly in order and at peace? Was it ever? At least half of the denizens you call friends and family there don't even exist as flesh and blood constructs. Do you think they will ever really know what it is to feel alive? Is it possible for them to die at all? Or do they go on living as puppets in a macabre play, heedless of the moment when their rulers flip the switches to decide who remains onstage and who goes out in a blip of electrodes?"
"Why should you care?" Toshiki snarled. "You were going to help them destroy Makubex when you agreed to transport bomb materials!"
"And you were helping them to destroy Kazuki-san and Juubei-san by agreeing to collaborate with Kurusu Masaki-san," Akabane shot back swiftly. "I daresay you have no firm ground to stand upon when it comes to claiming higher morals, Toshiki-san. Until you do, I think you ought to refrain from criticizing anyone else's choices."
"Oh yeah? Let's see you criticize this!"
Rena screamed and Shido bellowed, as Toshiki swung at Akabane. Even before the first punch had been thrown Ban was already up and out of his seat, intending to grab his lover and drag him away from the group in hopes of preventing a bloodbath in the very literal sense of the word. Toshiki may have been strong but everyone except he himself knew he was no match for Dr. Jackal's lightning-quick blades.
Kazuki and Juubei had had the same thought as well and were likewise moving to pull Toshiki away with string and hold him at needlepoint, lest the challenge go too far.
Akabane was faster. He caught the blow, held it, and wrenched his opponent's arm until Toshiki was howling in agony. In the next moment the blond's back was crashing into the wall and a spray of silver surrounded his exposed throat as scalpels burst from a white glove.
Everyone froze.
Stony purple met electric blue as Toshiki found himself staring into the face of his certain death. Akabane smiled, but there was no warmth in it, only a cold edge sharpened with a hunter's razor instincts that craved blood.
He spoke quietly, slowly. "Know that I hold your life in my hands at this instant." The knives holding Toshiki hostage poked into his skin, scratching tiny beads of red to the surface. "I could kill you with a flick of my wrist, slice open your carotid artery and watch you drown in your own blood." His voice cut as coldly and cruelly as his knives. A scalpel protruded from Akabane's free hand and nicked a tiny spot of fabric from the belted coat around Toshiki's waist. "I could eviscerate you with my mark and feel the heat from your steaming entrails as they pour from your belly."
No one breathed. No one moved.
Akabane withdrew his scalpels, and stepped back from his opponent.
"Know that today I choose not to do so, out of respect for those gathered here. May I recommend that in the future, you take the time to get to know someone before rushing to sit in judgment of them, Toshiki-san. Not all demons are inherently wicked." He cast a brief, softening look at Ban. "Midou-kun may not be the purest of heart, but neither is he as terrible as you would believe. If you still doubt this, you should ask Ginji-kun what he thinks, and if your doubts persist, ask Kazuki-san if his former emperor is not correct in his estimations. The answers ought to give you something to think on."
He left a still-petrified Toshiki and a stunned Honky Tonk crowd in their places, approaching Paul with an offering of money for his and Ban's dinner and drinks. "My sincerest apologies, Wan-san. It was never my intent to cause a scene, I assure you."
Paul's throat worked for a second as the Adam's apple yo-yoed up and down. Finally he said, "Don't worry about it." He waved away the proffered currency, but didn't protest any further when Akabane laid it on the counter and walked out of the shop. Ban could feel everyone's eyes on him as he slunk after his lover.
--
Outside Akabane was standing on the curb, patiently waiting for Ban to join him. They fell into a measured stroll fraught with lethal possibility. Immediately, Ban knew not to say anything, in spite of the seething irritation he felt as a result of Akabane's well-meaning intentions. He sensed that they were balanced on the hair-point of an edge pointing toward a strange place where words might not mean what they were intended to, and the wrong conversation could have disastrous consequences. If anything was to be exchanged now Akabane must be the first to speak.
At length, he did. A slender arm wound itself around Ban's, the gloved hand gently squeezing his own. "I hope I haven't caused you any trouble back there, Midou-kun."
Ban fought the urge to snap at him and partially succeeded. "I can fight my own battles, you know," he muttered.
"I know," Akabane said. "But it's good to have someone at your back. No? After all, I am perfectly capable of handling any challenge directed to me, yet I appreciate it when Himiko-san stands watch for me on a job." He ignored Ban's low huff and said, "Do you think that Wan-san will be terribly upset with you and Ginji-kun as a result?"
"I probably won't be welcome back at the Honky Tonk for a while, but I doubt anyone will say anything more." Ban shrugged and squeezed Akabane's hand back, letting him know that his actions weren't entirely unappreciated. "I've heard a lot worse than the crap they were flinging."
Akabane glanced at him, a shade of something almost foreign in its sadness dimming his lavender eyes. "Is it not customary for lovers to defend each other's honor?" At the quirked brow he received in response he said, "It made me uncomfortable, hearing them talk about you like that."
"Don't worry about it. There isn't any epithet or slur that I haven't heard before," Ban said grimly, stopping to dig his smokes and lighter out and light one up. "When you grow up hearing almost nothing but, you desensitize yourself to it after a while. It's the only way to get through it without snapping your hinges." He paused. "Some of it actually is true. It's the way they have to constantly rub your face in it, that's what stings more than anything else."
"There's no shame in being yourself, Midou-kun. I could see that it hurt you." Akabane drew closer, hovering almost protectively near Ban. "It displeases me to see you upset."
He kissed Ban's cheek. "For what it's worth, I wouldn't have killed that boy in spite of what I said. Oh, he would have been a minor amusement in a fight, with such passion and fury, but in the end it would be over too quickly. And it was clear that Kazuki-san and Juubei-san were rather fond of him, even if he displays a fierce temper." Akabane cocked his head thoughtfully. "I think perhaps he is to them what you are to me. Hmm?"
Ban made a sound halfway between a grunt and a snort. "You could say that." He started walking back to their apartment, not feeling like talking any more about the merry trio that used to make up three-fourths of Fuuga.
Akabane followed, hurrying along in a way not unlike the kind of puppy-dog manner that Ginji often displayed, although his actual pace was restrained. "Midou-kun? Is something wrong? You seem worried."
"What?"
"You've been tense all day. I can tell that something's bothering you."
"Just some job stuff," Ban replied, not looking at him. "Money hasn't been coming in for a while, that's all."
"Mmm." Akabane's hum was clear in its implication: you aren't fooling me. "I can't help but have noticed, Midou-kun. Whenever the Get Backers are low on funds, Ginji-kun has a tendency to panhandle Wan-san instead of risking trips that might hamper his questionable sense of direction." A little chuckle. "He's quite vocal about his desire for food, isn't he?" He nodded at the cigarette that was fast immolating itself in Ban's fingers. "You smoke less because you're unable to purchase cigarettes due to the lack of money, and as a result, you pick more fights as you become more ill-tempered than usual because of the lack of nicotine in your body."
Ban wasn't about to relent. "Your point being?" he grumbled.
Akabane tilted his head a little. "I told you. I don't like to see you upset. You're nowhere near as much fun to be with when you're in a bad mood."
"So you're bored and want a fight, is that it?" Ban willed the flush heating up his skin to fade away before it could embarrass him. He knew he was treading on thin ice here, but dammit, Akabane didn't know when to quit and now it was beginning to piss him off.
The transporter pressed his case. "Not if you aren't going to be serious. You're acting as if you're a prey animal being hunted. I can tell," Akabane said knowingly. "I was serious when I said that it bothered me to see you being attacked by those people."
"And I told you," Ban said, clenching his teeth and trying his best not to lapse into an argumentative state. "It doesn't matter what those jackasses think. You could tell 'em I shit pure sugar and hold out a bowl of the stuff as proof, and it still wouldn't keep them from mouthing off every chance they get. It was just dumb luck that they had to be there at the same time we were." He paused to spit out the now-extinguished cigarette butt. "If you want to know the truth, I ran into Natsuhiko today while you were out."
"Natsuhiko? Miroku-kun?" Surprise lifted Akabane's voice somewhat. "He came to visit?"
"No, I met him downtown," Ban said, fishing out another cigarette, finding that he was out, and muttered a curse. "Look, you'd be wound up too if you bumped into him. I don't like wondering if I'm in the clear or if I'm about to have a horde of protectors playing soccer with my skull."
"Did he threaten you?" Akabane's tone was deceptively mild.
"No." They reached the building's entrance; Ban yanked open the door and stalked inside, not waiting for his lover.
Akabane scooted inside just before the door could trap the tails of his coat and continued up the stairs after Ban. "Midou-kun..."
"Christ. Will you relax, Jackal? I told you. It's nothing. Nobody's going to fight anybody," Ban stressed, wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut. "Natsuhiko mentioned something about some people Ginji and I knew that gave us trouble before. He thinks they might be a problem on another job, that's all. You know how protective Yukihiko and Ginji are of each other."
Akabane was behind him on the stairs, so Ban couldn't see his frown, though he definitely heard it in the other man's voice. "Oh."
They came to the floor their apartment was on and headed down the hall.
"Trust me, I have zero intention of taking any job associated with hard times," Ban said, lowering his voice to avoid attracting attention. He dug his keys out of his pocket as they approached their door. "I don't like being broadsided by bad news."
"Mmmmm." This hum was more thoughtful. "I can't imagine anyone who does, Midou-kun. These...rivals, they must be very dangerous if even Natsuhiko-kun seems concerned about them."
Ban made a wordless grunt in reply and unlocked the door. He entered their apartment, deciding that he needed to renew his beer buzz to take some of the rekindled agitation off.
He was halfway into the kitchen when Akabane suddenly said, "Is it Brain Trust?"
Ban froze, the refrigerator door already opened and his hand extended to grab a bottle of Germany's finest. He turned around to bark at Akabane.
His lover had divested himself of his boots and hat, and was now looking at him with an almost ferocious intent, all traces of his constant smile nowhere to be glimpsed. Purple eyes glittered with diamond strength as Akabane softly repeated, "Is it?"
Ban stared back at him. That feeling of the pendulum abruptly swinging back into dangerous territory knocked his heart hard against his chest.
"No," he said at last. "No, it's not them." Not yet, anyway, he thought.
Akabane's intense gaze pierced him as viciously as any of his scalpels could, and the terse silence held a few more seconds. Then the moment evaporated, dissolving into the ease of a transporter's calm smile. "Good."
He began walking towards the bedroom. Ban watched him leave, momentarily forgetting about his quest for alcoholic refreshment. Akabane had always displayed a peculiar antagonistic indifference to the Trust in general when the topic was brought up, and it never failed to intrigue Ban. He knew he wasn't the only one who had noticed Jackal's reactions. Ginji had said before, he'd felt things coming from Akabane that weren't normally there, and both Himiko and the thread-spool had speculated on separate occasions when, after having met with Akabane during Mugenjou-based missions, that he'd talked of certain things related to it and the Trust as if he'd been speaking from personal experience.
Then there was the spook, that weird little girl who hung around Mugenjou's upper tiers and popped up outside of the fortress from time to time, evidently getting her kicks from watching the whole lot of them. By Akabane's own admission, they'd spoken briefly several times and she'd once offered him God-only-knew-what hidden inside a candy. Ban had been furious when he'd learned from Ginji that she'd given him one too, and the monkey-trainer as well. The effects may have been positive overall, but Ban loathed the thought of himself or the select few he gave a damn about being manipulated on any level by outside forces.
Some of the others had said that it seemed like Hakase – the specialist – knew Akabane on a level that wasn't solely connected to his profession as a transporter, and Ban was inclined to agree. He had yet to figure out what part of the puzzle she fit into, but he knew it couldn't be anything good. Things operating in conjecture with Mugenjou, as a general rule, seldom were – it was the true nature of the beast.
Considering his own postulations on his lover's personal history, all of this had always made Ban curious, but not so much as to risk a knife in the back by possibly angering Jackal if he dared broach the touchy subject. It was something he himself could appreciate, after all. Ban no more enjoyed discussing parts of his own past than he did having busybodies pry into it without his permission.
A small part of him muttered that maybe, just maybe, he was being a little two-faced about his denial to Akabane, given that it was Ban who had first established the rule of honesty in their shortly-to-be-consummated relationship. He silenced that voice with the slam of the refrigerator door – sans beer – and went to find the comfort of a hot shower instead.
Akabane was hanging up his coat in the closet. He greeted Ban with a slightly warmer smile than earlier. "You had me wondering, Midou-kun."
Ban pulled off his white shirt, which he tossed onto the bed. "Oh?"
"For a moment there I thought I was going to have to have another chat with Kagami-kun."
Akabane had turned around to remove his gloves and undo his tie, so he missed the sight of his lover's eyes widening. "What?" Ban demanded, not quite raising his voice.
"Didn't I tell you?"
"Obviously not."
Akabane finished unknotting his tie and slipping it free from his now-unbuttoned shirt collar. He laid the tie on the dresser and turned around to look up at Ban with the same relaxed smile. "I ran into him some time ago while on an assignment. I found it necessary to remind him of the wisdom of not interfering with my enjoyment."
His contentment shifted into a subtle but charming malice as he began to stroll towards Ban, casually flexing a scalpel-studded hand. "He got the point, I assure you."
Ban hissed. "You killed the bar host?"
Some of the tartness melted away from Akabane's smile. "No. Though I would have liked to, I admit. He has potential as a worthy opponent."
He came closer to Ban and reached for him with a hand that no longer held knives. Long pale fingers threaded through Ban's hair and slender arms wound around his shoulders and waist as Akabane kissed him.
"But I remembered our promise."
It never failed to startle Ban, this seamless blend of intrigue and gentle manners that could so easily switch to cold-blooded purpose and back again in less time than it took to blink. Akabane's flesh was warm and inviting, his mouth tender against Ban's as they kissed, so close together that the soft waves of the transporter's hair tickled Ban's face, and the swipe of fluttering eyelashes dusted his cheek. Inside this attractive package beat a heart of solid stone...or so most believed. If one knew what to look for, where to find it and apply the right pressure at the precise points, even a jackal was capable of experiencing and returning human affections.
Maybe it was possible for old dogs to learn new tricks...it was sustaining this momentum that was the obstacle...
"Our promise..." Ban murmured aloud as the kiss separated and he found himself looking into Akabane's eyes. When the light hit them just right, the pupils seemed to shimmer with an iridescence that made it appear as if quicksilver had merged with the purple and brought to Ban's mind a gorgeous image of a close-up photograph of a wolf he'd once seen in a textbook as a boy. The animal had stared back at the camera with equal parts fascination, curiosity, and a sense of kinship that living beings attuned to all senses within the natural world were instinctively aware of. There had been no ferocity, no hostility, no fear or shame or lust for bloodshed in that gaze – just that feeling of shared companionship, an awareness of a life force that was both their own and still greater than. Sometimes Ban wondered if this was what it was like for the monkey king, with his vast legions of creatures that traveled by means of other than two legs.
Sometimes Ban secretly admitted that he envied Shido that soul-bond.
He had Ginji, of course, and in a way that was far worse vengeance than any slander his rival could ever hope to visit on him. But Ginji was something else, something pure that Ban couldn't bear to taint, because he had the lingering fear that doing so would snuff out the one light that had kept him from completely plummeting over the dark cliffs of his worst days.
Akabane had danced along those edges many times; he knew what it was to look over the empty beyond and see the fathomless hunger reflected back in one's own self, to drink deeply from the poisoned wells of loathing and doubt and forever come up thirsting for something that was both more of the same and somehow different than before. It would have been classic miserable company – but for the sheer fact that in each other, their struggles were somehow made less painful, less lonely, and their strengths tempered and transcended those weaknesses into an alloy made stronger only by the heart.
It terrified Ban to think of what vulnerability a man as precise, as calculating, as lethal as the one he held in his arms might carve from the meat of his soul.
Not because he might intend to, either out of deliberation or rage. Ban was capable of shutting that gateway down before it could be forced all the way open.
The threat lay in the possibility of the other alternative recognizing the danger this new avenue presented, and an irresistible call for blood sacrifice would be summoned. Akabane would be helpless to deny such cravings. Ban would have no choice but to unleash his own last, desperate gamble, and that way lay madness of an unfamiliar stripe.
Akabane nibbled slow kisses along Ban's lower lip. "Yes. Our promise," he purred, giving his lover an inquisitive smile. "You do still want me to abide by the terms of our original agreement...don't you, Midou-kun?"
It was twice as frightening for Ban to imagine the devastation should he be careless enough to slaughter the precious discovery he'd worked so hard to draw back from the abyss. Once had been more than enough for him to have done the ripping-out-of-hearts. If he screwed this up, he may as well tear out his own and toss it into the grinder too.
"Yes. Yes! Definitely!" Ban sputtered, twisting back out of his lover's reach and making a beeline for the shower.
Akabane smiled at his retreating form before following him inside the bathroom. "As you wish, then."
Ban managed to pull off his tank top and flick the catch on his belt before he was accosted once more. "Now what?"
"Good behavior is usually rewarded, isn't it?" Akabane wrapped himself around Ban's body like one of his form-fitting gloves.
Ban groaned, not from arousal. "Do we have to fight now, or can it wait till later?"
The other man's chuckle was endearing in its wickedness. "I had something else in mind. However, if you wish to play, I'm certainly willing to accommodate you."
Ordinarily Ban would've latched on to this kind of opportunity with a stranglehold. But try as he might, he couldn't muster enough enthusiasm right now for their usual sequence. Damned Brain Trust. Damned Natsuhiko. His libido was getting trampled by his concentration.
As carefully as he could – mindful of Jackal's eagerness to play regardless of the 'battlefield' – Ban grasped Akabane and pushed him away. "Ah – it's not a good time. I want a shower," he explained.
Akabane didn't take the hint. Still smiling, he reached for Ban's zipper. "I don't mind. We can still enjoy ourselves in the water."
Ban smacked his hand away from his pants. "Not this time. Downstairs isn't ready, in case you haven't noticed."
"I can fix that." Hardly had his lover uttered the lascivious declaration than Ban saw him drop to his knees in front of him. Nimble fingers sought and attacked the zipper once more; Akabane managed to get one hand inside Ban's pants and almost succeeded in withdrawing what he wanted before Ban was able to struggle loose of his grasp.
"Akabane, quit it. I'm not in the mood."
"It's not polite to tease, Midou-kun." They were at it again, Ban trying to shove him away, Akabane trying to entice his lover into joining him. He got both hands inside Ban's pants this time and leaned forward with his mouth open.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm sure it's not a physical problem, Midou-kun. But just in case this doesn't work, there are always medications that can be prescribed..."
"I don't need pills, damn you! Let go!"
"Poor Midou-kun. You're so tense. Let me take care of that."
Part of him warned that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to interrupt someone whose teeth were millimeters away from a vital portion of his anatomy, but it was overruled by the half of him that was irritated and upset over the day's events, and Akabane's refusal to accept dismissal fueled Ban's anxiety. He clutched a fistful of dark hair at the back of his lover's head and yanked backwards.
"Ah! Ah! Midou-kun!"
"Goddammit, I said knock it off!"
Akabane ceased his efforts and looked up at Ban, pressing a hand to his abused scalp. Confusion, and perhaps a little bit of hurt at being so unceremoniously rejected, deepened his eyes to a subdued violet. "That wasn't necessary!"
"Got your attention, didn't it?" Ban snapped as he finished tucking himself back into his pants. "Now beat it so I can have some peace for a bit."
Wrong thing to say. That purple gaze narrowed into frost, as Akabane's bewilderment shifted to annoyance. Glaring at Ban, he got up and crossed his arms against his chest. "What's wrong, Midou-kun? This isn't just about your meeting with Natsuhiko-kun, is it?"
"It's none of your business."
"I beg to differ. You've been most disagreeable lately and I'm not sure I care for much more of it," Akabane finished with a quiet growl. "I was only trying to help. You didn't have to be so unpleasant."
Ban slammed a bar of soap on the counter. "Well, you could've taken the first couple of hints I put out instead of horning in on your own satisfaction like you always do."
Akabane made a small noise of anger. "Excuse me? I was trying to make things more enjoyable for both of us."
Ban started to snap back at him, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed a pair of scalpels had extended and were tapping against Akabane's thigh. A surefire sign that his lover was vexed was when he fidgeted with his knives; an action disquieting enough had they merely shone their usual ethereal blue-white energy instead of currently sporting a bleeding red. Provoking an outright battle between them wouldn't do either man any good.
Swallowing his pride and his temper, Ban silently counted to ten and took a deep breath to mentally prepare his damage control before he answered. "Look, Akabane. I know you didn't mean anything by it. I know you just wanted us to have fun. I'm just keyed up right now, from talking with Natsuhiko and having a lot of other things on my mind lately. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
Somewhat mollified by his lover's semi-apology, Akabane relaxed, and the scalpels' crimson tint faded into a neutral hue. He tilted his head at Ban, still frowning. "You can tell me if something's wrong, Midou-kun. I wouldn't have forced the issue if I'd known you were this upset."
Ban sighed, bracing his hands on his hips and looking at the floor for a moment, then back up to Akabane. "I'll tell you when the time is right," he hedged at last. "Right now I need some space. It's more my problem than it is yours anyway," he added, which was half-truth, at least in regards to his own conflicted feelings. "Okay?"
Akabane didn't look happy about it, but neither did he appear as though he were contemplating manslaughter anymore. He studied Ban for several minutes, apparently giving his words some consideration. Finally he gave a slow nod. "All right."
Feeling abruptly guilty over his rough treatment (and in turn pissed about that), Ban cautiously approached the other man in case he was still harboring aggressive thoughts. "Hurt much?" he asked, indicating the spot where he'd pulled Akabane's hair.
"No." Akabane shook his head gently as he spoke, the motion sending tendrils of ebony rustling along his face and the sides of his neck. Ban reached up and carded his fingers through the soft mane, lightly rubbing the sore area at the back of Akabane's head.
"Sorry."
Akabane stepped in closer to Ban, tentatively laying a palm – scalpel-less, thankfully - on his shoulder as if to inquire whether the advance was welcome. When Ban made no move to disallow it, he slipped both arms around his lover and leaned in to touch their noses together. "All is forgiven, Midou-kun," he murmured.
Relieved that extra misery had been averted, Ban exhaled another long, slow breath. He suddenly felt very tired, even though the day's stress had been a picnic compared to some of what he went through on a typical retrieval job. But that was physical, his inner critic pointed out. Mental – emotional – stress was a minefield twice as aggravating to navigate and he'd had no short supply of that. He lifted his hands to the other man's shoulders to break their casual embrace, and was surprised when instead he shifted the pressure of his fingers so that he was bringing Akabane in closer.
They stood like that, together, for a while, indulging in a hug that doubtless meant different things to each man. For Akabane, it was reassurance that he wasn't wholly being turned away, and that his companion was, in his own roundabout way, apologizing for his brusqueness. For Ban, it felt like an odd security, a constant source of strength willingly lending itself to his support. He and Akabane shared some of the same characteristics they both admired. Foundations like that were inherently valuable, and rarer still to find –
A series of demented electronic warbles coming from atop the dresser interrupted their genuflections. Akabane's cell phone launched into an obscenely cheerful melody, signaling an incoming call from, most likely, a potential client.
They looked at it, then each other, the spell broken by awkwardness. After the fifth ring Akabane offered Ban a chagrined tidbit of a smile. "I suppose I should answer that."
"Yeah."
Fingers caressed the side of Ban's face. "Perhaps we could talk later?"
"Maybe, yeah."
Akabane smiled, a real one this time. "I would like that, Midou-kun."
Ban let go, and watched his lover pad back into the bedroom to deal with the bastardly device. Recognizing an opportunity when it presented itself, he closed the bathroom door and flicked on the shower's faucet.
What had just happened?
Past arguments hadn't been nearly as intimate. Knife-play aside, Akabane tended towards icy silence when angered. With Ban it was profanity-laden rants. He saved the brunt of his fury for easily replaceable objects. But this time he sensed that his lover had actually been hurt, and strangely, he felt a pervasive guilt over having inflicted those invisible wounds.
Ban thought back to his earlier questions, the dreams he'd had. The revelation was particularly disturbing, in light of these musings, for guilt implied a real concern not unlike that of –
"Crazy," he muttered to himself as he peeled off his remaining clothes and got in the shower. "I can't be falling for that trap."
He decided it was better to ignore the suggestion threading its sinuous way through his head that it might already be too late.
--
TBC