STORY WARNINGS:
–Yaoi – Male/Male.
– Rating: Mature. ADULTS ONLY. Contains coarse language, explicit sexual content both consensual/non-consensual, forced/willing submission, bondage, BDSM, edging, safewords, aftercare, graphic violence, torture, adult themes, guilty pleasure fantasy where you want someone to be a bit too forceful.
A/N: So much for 27, it's going to be 29 now!
This one's been tough. I hit a wall, I had no words, I had too many words, I was distracted with some later scenes (soooo much fun *ahem!*), these two(!), all the rest of it hitting me in one go, typical chronic over-writing and ending up with a totally unwieldy 30k+ words... The list goes on.
Long story short, what were previously the last two chapters have each been split in two, so Click is going to be 29 chapters! I'm pretty sure that's it now, but I'm calling author's privilege. No promises because I've clearly called it wrong since I first announced it was going to be 25 chapters and kept inching it up! *D'oh!* They won't all be jumbo chapters but this gives me wiggle room at least.
Confession time. 1 – I actually can't remember if we ever saw Akihito's parents in canon... If we have, they don't appear here! I've made them up. This is how I picture Akihito's family who nurtured him into the character we know and love.
2 – You know when you say a word too many times and it loses all meaning? This chapter has become a bit like that, maybe because it's been such a battle and I've been going over it so many times I have no idea if it's ready. But I need to draw a line under this because I'll never be able to move on otherwise so I'm just going to post it. So I'm really sorry if it's terrible. Don't be surprised if parts are revised later!
(Has anyone else experienced something like this? How did you get through it? I'd love to hear from fellow writers! Even to tell me it happens to everyone and I'm just being a wimp! XD Honestly, fire away! haha)
Finally, just a note that I'm going with the English convention of saying 'Mum and Dad' rather than the Japanese order of 'Dad and Mum'. It just sounds odd otherwise in English.
Part 2 in a week or two hopefully! (Barring another wall... Hopefully not!)
~ Nyx ~
DISCLAIMER: The Finder series and all recognisable characters belong to Yamane Ayano sensei.
Click
Chapter 26
Best prank ever. Had to be. An optical illusion, a hologram, some kick-ass next-gen VR concept where there was no need for a headset...
Except his mum's hands on his face had that dryness they always did going into winter. And there was a waft of the same cheap aftershave his dad had used since forever; a.k.a. ever since an 8-year-old Akihito had forked out all the money he'd earned fixing a neighbour's computer and was chuffed to bits with the birthday present he'd chosen all by himself.
They were speaking to him – or, specifically, his mum was – but he didn't really hear, his rabbit-in-headlights gaze finding Asami. The man was leaning against the window, as casual as you like, on the phone. On the phone. Mid-conversation and all, to all appearances, when Akihito was still blooming exactly like Asami had been about to kiss him only five seconds earlier. In what universe was that fair?
"Sweetie, come on, speak to me. It's your mother. Do you remember?" She peered into his eyes, pushing up his eyelids.
"Cut it out, Mum!" Akihito flapped her away. "I was just surprised to see you, is all."
"You were surprised? We were woken up at the crack of dawn by a stranger calling us to say you're out of intensive care now, how do you think that felt?"
"Better than if they'd said I was still in intensive care?"
"Don't get smart with me, young man. We've been on the train for hours and we've been worried sick and we haven't had any breakfast or lunch so don't try me."
"Ah, you're hangry. Makes sense now."
"Of course I'm bloody hangry so stop being so lazy and come here and greet your poor mother properly."
"I'm lying in a hospital bed fresh out of intensive care, how exactly am I being lazy?"
"I don't know, do I, you're too busy being a smart mouth to tell me what's wrong."
"You haven't let me get a word in edgeways!"
"You're doing plenty of yapping from where I'm standing."
"Yeah, well, I'm not the only one," Akihito grumbled. He caught Asami subtly turning away, his mouth twitching, his shoulders shaking – "Oi, stop that! It's not funny!"
Asami gave his best innocently surprised face. The phone had disappeared at some point.
Dad was used to waiting until the other two let off steam. It was also a good indicator that there was nothing urgently wrong.
He was far more effectual with his words. Figured, he used to be a journalist. "How are you?" Three words, job done.
Akihito quietened down. "I'm ok. I can't move much yet but I'll be ok."
"Oh, sweetie –" His mum rushed close but then hovered, reaching out, pulling her hands back, fluttering, not knowing where she could touch.
Akihito caught her hands, squeezing. "I'll be alright, Mum." He cleared his throat. "Thanks to Asami."
Yep. He was going to do it. It was like a band-aid, right? Just rip it off.
His parents turned to the window, to the other person in the room, all tall and broad and lean and immaculately dressed and looking insanely perfect and oh-so-ridiculously droolworthy...
Ay caramba. Akihito bought himself a precious few seconds by introducing his parents first.
"These are my parents, Takaba Sana and Tatsuhiro. Mum, Dad, this is Asami, uh, Asami Ryuichi, he's... uh... uhhh..."
His? Could he even say that? His what? Boyfriend? Fricking hell that didn't belong in the same sentence as Asami. Lover? He nearly had a meltdown. Friends with the biggest (ahem!) benefits? Unofficial roommate who tended to sleep in the same bed most of the time? A possible significant someone Akihito might have a thing for, and hey, surprise, he might be gay or bi or maybe he's actually Asami-oriented he hadn't actually worked it out but he wasn't really bothered?
Just as Akihito almost called him 'the guy who owns a dojo, how awesome is that?' just to fill the awkward-ass pause that had stretched to infinity already, Asami stepped forward, all fluid and suave, his considerable aura tempered down until he emitted about as much menace as a two-day-old puppy. Perfectly nice, like when he'd met Akihito's surrogate grandparents on their (not a date!) dinner out that Akihito happened to pay for.
"Asami Ryuichi," he bowed. "I met your son at Sion."
His parents bowed back. "Pleasure to meet you."
"I hope you can forgive the late notice about your son being injured," Asami apologized without apologizing. "Events overtook us all rather quickly and with the doctors making sure he pulled through, it didn't occur to have the call placed until he was out of danger."
"Goodness me, please," Sana said, her expression all wide and open and shocked. "I'm just glad you both pulled through. Are you alright?"
For just a moment, in the space of a single blink, Akihito thought Asami looked taken aback. "I appreciate the concern but I'm perfectly fine. Unfortunately it was Akihito who took the brunt of it." He gave a half smile. "I'm sure you want to catch up. I have business to attend to so please excuse me."
He gave a small bow to them again before passing the bed, heading for the door.
Akihito went to speak, but 'How long you gonna be?' lodged in his throat. Asami had only just returned and he was off again, when until that morning he'd been such a constant ever since Akihito had regained consciousness. Sudden unease about Asami's absence clashed with being acutely aware of his parents being in the same room and he had no idea how to deal. It was all too sudden.
But Asami caught his foot, a press of warmth through the sheets that made breathing just a little easier. "Sagano and Nakatani will be outside," he murmured, "and you have the call button."
Akihito nodded, frowning at himself. "Later then." It might have sounded like a throwaway sayonara [farewell] but there was an underlying question...
Asami confirmed it with a nod.
Akihito tried not to watch Asami leave, as his mum fussed and fired off a million questions.
His dad was quiet, watching more closely than Akihito realized.
"– My personal failure and what it cost you will stay with me for the rest of my life. There is no apology that is adequate. I will forever endeavour to make amends for my severe shortcomings –"
"S-Sagano-san?" It was Akihito's rather horrified voice that cut through the bodyguard's monologue. "Jesus, I can't even see you. Come on, you gotta get up."
Akihito had only asked his parents to 'holler at one of the guys outside' because he had a question. How that had led so quickly to Sagano prostrate on his knees beside the bed was beyond him, but the moment the bodyguard had set eyes on Akihito he'd dived to the floor faster than a hammer striking an anvil. And he still hadn't resurfaced.
"Sagano-san, please..." Akihito sounded like he was going to cry.
That might have been the only thing that made Sagano finally, slowly, return to his feet. He looked like Akihito had died or something...
Akihito knew the precise moment that was making Sagano act like this. "You were trying to get me to safety. There wasn't anything you could've done against a stampeding hoard of panicking people. No one blames you for anything, least of all me. You know that, right?"
Sagano was staring at the floor, endlessly replaying that moment he'd let go of Akihito in the Sion foyer, chasing magical variations of preventing Akihito's abduction. What if, what if, what if –
Akihito would have never foreseen the day he'd paraphrase Asami of all people. "You could lose your life in what-ifs, Sagano-san. Asami told me that once. What matters is the here and now. And here and now, I'm right here. A bit of a glitch, that's all this is." He grinned encouragingly. "I'll be right as rain in no time and we'll all look back and be totally in awe of my awesome badassery, right?"
It was a long while before Sagano looked up. But he did eventually.
"Ok?" Akihito checked.
"...Ok," Sagano said, still with a great deal of uncertainty.
"Ok," Akihito nodded back. No doubt it would be a long time before Sagano let go of his guilt but Akihito would pester and nag and cajole and irritate the man until he did.
He cleared his throat. "So I was actually going to ask if you know if the police are coming later?" Hint hint – what the fuck am I meant to say?
"I'm not sure. I will make enquiries, Takaba-sama. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Yeah, can you stop with the 'sama'? It makes me all nervous, like I'm supposed to be standing straighter or be older or something."
Sagano bowed. "I apologize, it wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."
"You don't have to bow..." Akihito whined.
Sagano bowed again, even deeper. "Apologies again. Excuse me, I will enquire regarding the police." He bowed again at the door.
Akihito groaned as the door closed behind him. "He seriously needs to chillax..."
"Was he the one you spoke to?" Dad was speaking to Mum, even if he was still watching Akihito. They both were, actually, a bit shocked at the exchange.
Mum shook her head. "I think the name was Kirishima."
"Nah, that was Sagano just now. Kirishima's the one in the glasses."
"Who's Kirishima-san?" Mum asked.
"Asami's secretary." Easiest to leave it at that.
"Who's Sagano-san?" Dad asked.
"Uh... Asami's bodyguard. One of." Akihito was just starting to realize how this looked.
"So all those other men we saw in the same black suits...?"
Akihito pulled a face. "Also Asami's bodyguards?"
Mum was practically squinting at him. "Who exactly is this Asami-san?"
Great question. Akihito wanted the answer to that too. Being no closer to unravelling his conundrum than he'd been a few minutes earlier, he came out with, "He owns Sion."
Then he wished he hadn't. Though it was bound to happen sooner or later.
Her eyes went saucer-shaped. "Don't tell me he's the Asami Ryuichi? The business tycoon? The billionaire? Goodness me! I thought I recognized the name, why didn't he say he was the CEO?"
His dad went the other way, his brow descending along with him sinking into silence.
"How on earth do you know someone like Asami-sama?" Mum asked.
Akihito sighed. There it was, the inevitable 'sama'. More respectful, in some respects. But also more distant, from another point of view.
"I think I just realized why he didn't tell you," he pondered aloud. "Can you just call him Asami-san?" He sniggered at the sound of it off his tongue. Asami was just Asami to him.
"We can't do that, he's one of the richest men in Japan! However did you meet him? Is that why you're in this private hospital? Is he paying for this? Because I know you can't afford that on your health insurance. Or did you do another big bug-testing job? What on earth happened? Oh, my poor boy –"
His mum grabbed his head and planted multiple kisses on his forehead and cheeks.
Akihito pulled a face but endured it, knowing how worried she was. "Is this what I'm like?" he lamented at his dad. He knew he took after his mother and they could both talk till the cows came home, but this was worse than usual. Even more like Akihito if that was possible.
His dad was looking at him strangely. "Is Asami-sama paying for your medical bills here, Akihito?"
Uh oh. The serious voice had made an appearance. Akihito felt a bolt of unease. "I think so."
His father kept looking at him.
Akihito fidgeted. "Yeah." It hadn't even occurred to him to ask.
"You still haven't told us why you're in a hospital in the first place," his mum pressed. "What happened?"
Akihito was getting nervous about the way his father was looking at him. Like he knew. And wasn't impressed. How much had his dad picked up before poor health had forced him out of journalism in the big city? That was about ten years ago, as Asami was solidifying his world domination. Shit. The last thing Akihito wanted was his parents hating Asami.
There was one thing he could make absolutely clear. "I'm here because some sick psycho creep tried to kill me and Asami saved my life. I'd be dead if it wasn't for him."
"Akihito...!" his mum gasped, and he felt a bit guilty for his bluntness. Well at least he hadn't mentioned the hitmen, and the earlier shooting too, and the mugging before that...
She embraced his head again. "What on earth's been happening here? You said you were doing well in Tokyo." Sniffling, tears slipped from her eyes.
What she said next made his heart plummet in a way he'd never expected.
"Aki... Come home."
Creaking chains. Rasping breath. Clattering teeth.
It only took Asami one glance to gauge levels of fatigue, pain, tolerance, lassitude, consciousness...
The man dangled naked and limp from his wrists, head hanging low. Dried red riverbeds ran from the gnawed skin under the steel manacles, along the arms and torso and down the legs. Scratched, grimy feet trailed in a watery pool of blood. No doubt the floor had been washed down at some point, more for the comfort of the host than the guest. Asami could still detect the toll of the last few days in the cold air, the distinct metallic tang, the sharpness of bodily excretions.
"I can be creative waking you up if that's what you're after," he said flatly.
There was a hacking snicker, the chains jangling. The man found his feet, setting them slowly, creaking to stand rather than just hanging from his wrists.
Scarface looked up, the scar pulling in a hideous grin. "Thank you for visiting me, Asami-sama. It gives me a real sense of achievement."
Asami very nearly rolled his eyes. "Your aspirations are pitiful. No wonder you amounted to so little."
He headed for the only chair in the bunker, a hard metal thing beside the usual tool table. He draped his coat over the back of it and took the seat, slipping out of his suit jacket but leaving it draped over his shoulders. It was chilly, after all.
"You can't hide it," Scarface taunted. "For you to do all this, I really got to you, didn't I?"
Asami made a rotating sign with his finger. Suoh came forwards, roughly grabbing one of Wakajima's shoulders and swinging him in a slow circle. Bloody feet scrambled on the slippery floor as Scarface grunted. The chains creaked from where they were bolted to the ceiling.
There was a dagger hilt sticking out from between the ribs, but not much else.
"Were you holding back?" Asami asked lightly.
"I only need one knife wound to fill the bunker with noise, sir," Suoh replied.
The big guard resumed his position off to the side. Calm, easy, feet planted, he could have just as easily been guarding Asami's office door as having spent the last three days attending to their latest houseguest's nerve endings through that single stab.
"But are you satisfied? I gave you free rein so long as he was still alive and coherent."
Suoh smiled faintly. "I will be. When you're done."
Asami smirked back. "Tape it," he ordered. "We wouldn't want to risk the knife slipping out before we're done, would we?"
It was just a flicker. The discomfort, before Wakajima shrugged with just his face. His shoulders weren't moving any time soon. "Makes no difference to me."
Asami ignored him. "Any sleep?"
Suoh shook his head as he headed back to their guest with the gaffer tape. "The new drug has been effective in keeping him awake, though there appears to be side-effects. He becomes extremely agitated whenever he's dosed up. He mentioned something about burning."
Scarface's eyes twitched to more syringes laid out neatly on the table.
Asami smiled thinly. "We should test it further then to catalogue the effects of long-term exposure."
"That seems prudent, sir," Suoh agreed solemnly.
"What, so it's drugs, sleep deprivation and stabbing me a bit, is it?" Scarface spat. "That all you got?"
"Don't fret, Wakajima-san. My agenda is quite simple." Asami started rolling up his sleeves. Neat, precise, controlled, the inner demon tightly leashed. "Did you know Akihito has nightmares? He can't say your name. He can't move without being in pain."
Wakajima laughed, even as he flinched at the scrape of the knife against a rib bone.
"It's good that that pleases you," Asami said, dangerously soft. He removed his watch – Rotonde de Cartier, complete with scratches as he'd worn it since the mugging – and left it on the table for safekeeping. "Because I'm going to grant you the same favour. I'll let you feel everything Akihito feels."
He reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out a long thin object wrapped in a handkerchief. He unfolded it, one peel of the material at a time... To reveal another knife.
No, scratch that, the knife. Wakajima recognized it instantly. It was his own, the one he'd stabbed Takaba with.
"Your guard's already seen to that," he pointed out, sounding bored.
"Is that what you think?" Asami's eyes keenly followed the sharp curve of the blade. "Akihito never liked knives to begin with, but you had to go and use one on him. So it's only fair that I use the same instrument, isn't it?"
Scarface sneered. "Torture me all you like, I'm used to it. You can see my face, can't you? They almost took my eye and they got nothing from me. Your man didn't get anything from me either, and neither will you."
"Do you remember all the places you touched? Were you even paying attention? I certainly was. Temple. Cheek. Around the neck. The whole of the back, from the neck to the feet." No matter his soft voice, an unearthly fire burned in Asami's gaze. "Do you think you'll learn the meaning of regret, Wakajima-san, when you lose all the places you touched?"
Scarface went ashen. It was just starting to sink in what Asami was planning. "I– I'd be dead long before all that," he stammered.
"That's why we're going to take our time," Asami explained with mocking kindness. "We'll keep you fed and watered to keep your heart ticking along, drugged to keep you conscious. You won't perish prematurely, I assure you."
"But – but –" Wakajima was getting desperate now. "He was wearing clothes! I didn't even touch his back!"
"Do you think he didn't feel you as you held onto him?" Asami snarled. "As you made him bleed? As though any of that was your due?"
He let it simmer, took a breath, reeled himself back. With reinforced calm he pocketed the starched white cloth, leaving the knife in his hands. "Akihito is strong. Soon all this will be nothing more than a forgotten memory. He'll live, he'll thrive, he'll be brilliant. But you?" Asami rose, like a spectre of death, looming closer. "I will be the only thing left to you. I will be your worst nightmare. My name alone will bring you terror. And who will mourn you? Who will remember you?" His lips thinned in a cold smile. "Not a soul."
He shrugged off his jacket. It was caught fluidly by Suoh.
Asami scratched the blade tip along the silvery scar on the blanched face. And smiled. "Shall we begin?"
Say nothing.
Which was all well and good and simple, except for Dick 1 being a complete and utter dick.
"So what absurd tale are you going to spin for me this time?" Sakazaki sneered nastily. "Or was it all a blur again?"
"Yeah, it kinda is," Akihito shrugged. "You know, things blew up in my face and all. I think I'm still in shock."
"That was three days ago, you punk. Shock doesn't last that long."
"Wow you can give a professional opinion? That's amazing! 'Cos I personally couldn't even have a stab at medically assessing myself. Ugh, I hate puns..."
A muscle twitched under the manicured beard-line of Sakazaki's jaw. "Let's have it, whatever bull–" he glanced at the mother and reworded – "nonsense you've agreed on with Asami."
"You shouldn't cast aspersions without proof, Sakazaki," Yamazaki warned.
Akihito glanced at the other detective. There had been something about Yamazaki since they'd arrived. Subdued perhaps. Quietly serious.
Yamazaki ignored Dick 1's glare and turned to Akihito. "We just need a statement then we can leave you in peace."
"Uh..." Akihito fidgeted as his parents and both detectives stared expectantly. How was he supposed to say nothing, exactly? With a load of very substantial waffle, as it turned out.
"Ok, yeah, it was, I mean, everything was going, you know? It was all happening, who knows what was going on. People were everywhere, everyone going everywhere, we were trying to go too but with everyone going everywhere we couldn't really go, then it's like this bash and all of a sudden I'm there and it's all going crazy! Real crazy. Yeah..." He twist-chewed his lips as everyone stared.
And stared.
"What the fuck?" Sakazaki said flatly.
Takaba senior threw the detective a sharp glare but it went unnoticed.
"Seriously?" Sakazaki snapped, veins popping on his temple. His slimy disdain was gone, it was just pure rage. "That's all you got? That's even less than last time! If you're going with this garbage at least feed me the same garbage as Asami!"
"How the hell am I supposed to know what he's told you?"
"Oh that's a good one. Need a cue? You were kidnapped, remember? Go on, you can say it: they wanted Asami's money for ransom."
Akihito's mum gasped softly, her hand flying to cover her mouth to hear this, and Akihito silently cursed the detective.
But all at the same time Kirishima was striding in, Yamazaki sucked a sharp inhale loud enough to hear, his dad's shocked gaze flew to the detective.
"Is this your accustomed method of taking statements from victims of major crime, Detective Sakazaki?" Glasses asked with perfect calm. "Because that sounded like you were coaching the witness."
Dick 1 froze. He took stock of the others all staring. He glanced at the camera on the mini-tripod, the red light blinking innocently from where it sat on the pull-out table over the foot of the bed.
"No – ah no, I was... I was confirming his statement."
Akihito could practically see the verbal backpedal. He didn't get it but it seemed a big deal to the others, including Dick 1.
"I don't recall Takaba saying anything about a kidnapping," Yamazaki muttered.
Kirishima spelled it out. "You were feeding him lines to say, Detective. It seems you've made him an unreliable witness. He can no longer give evidence."
Hang on a second, was this what Glasses had been aiming for when he'd told Akihito to say nothing? It sure saved him from committing perjury.
"No..." Sakazaki shook his head, looking for backup from Yamazaki. He got none.
"I have no choice but to lodge an official complaint on your conduct with the Public Safety Commission," Kirishima informed him.
Sakazaki stood up so fast the chair fell over. "This is all bull! He was stalling on purpose!"
"Bull, you say?" Akihito arched his brows. "I was unconscious then woke up with a mammoth concussion. I don't know what kind of superhero you expect me to be to know the blow-by-blow account of what was going on through all that." If his parents weren't there he would have been more inventive with his language.
Sakazaki sought someone to back him up but he was stonewalled by the hostile, glaring faces. He jabbed a furious finger at Akihito lying in bed. "You're in so far over your head it's gonna bite you in the ass. Just like Sudoh. You know what happened to him. I know you know. I'll be dancing on your gravestone soon, you fucking punk, you'll sink right along with this stinking sinking rat ship! A load of fucking bull!"
He stormed out, slamming the door.
Frozen silence ruled. But only for a second.
Glasses didn't look phased in the least.
Yamazaki was looking carefully neutral. "Interview terminated," he announced, reeling off times and dates and change in attendees before turning off the camera.
His parents were furious. "We'll be making an official complaint too," his dad insisted to Akihito.
His mum nodded adamantly. "You can count on it. You were kidnapped –" her voice cracked –"for money, and to treat you like that..."
Suddenly there was a cold knot of worry. Would they blame Asami for the kidnapping, even indirectly...?
"It was Z4m4 M1r0," Akihito blurted before he could think. He looked between them, Yamazaki too. "It wasn't Asami they were after. It was Z4m4 M1r0."
Ok so Scarface had been after Asami as well, but Z4m4 M1r0 had been the target from the outset. It wasn't Asami's fault, was all he could think. He was only alive because of Asami.
"Oh, sweetie...!" Mum looked like she was about to break down. "No... No...! I told you it was too dangerous, I told you..."
His dad's eyes dropped closed, as though he'd always known this day was coming.
Dad had known about Z4m4 M1r0 since Yama-san had first arrested him. Mum had only found out when he'd been arrested again this year and she hadn't come to terms with what he'd been doing all these years. Perhaps she never would.
This was big. Yamazaki was aware of that, more than the punk himself. Someone of Asami's standing, getting mixed up in a violent case like this with a hacker investigator who'd brought down yakuza heads? The dockyard explosions had already been headline news all weekend, this would be the cherry on top of the icing with extra candles thrown in. If the press got wind of it, so would the yakuza, and Akihito was finished. Asami was his only hope.
Yamazaki understood Takaba enough to know that he was only saying it to shield Asami from blame. The young man wouldn't see the further consequences, he simply wasn't wired for self-preservation.
Takaba might not realize it but Yamazaki knew what he was being given. A second chance. No way was he going to fuck up a second time.
"I didn't hear that," the weathered detective told them all, with a meaningful glance at Kirishima for good measure. For Takaba's sake, he'd keep it quiet. "And I'll keep an ear out. There might be an advantage to being partnered with that jerk after all."
Akihito just looked confused. But Kirishima gave the detective a single nod. Yamazaki left in search of his partner.
His mum was squeezing Akihito's hand. But it wasn't the hand Akihito wanted. He felt the absence of a very specific kind of warmth along his entire side as acutely as the injury. Since when had he come to depend on that bastard so much? The bastard who kept saving him time and again, who'd stayed with him through the worst of the twisted nightmares...
His parents were discussing complaints and formal procedures with Glasses. He rolled away from them with an effort and curled into the pillow.
Asami's scent still lingered.
Sana stared in wordless plea at her husband. It broke her heart to see her son so clearly traumatized. The injury was also taking an obvious toll; Akihito was clearly exhausted when he'd asked them to leave.
Tatsuhiro turned to the so-called secretary, whom he suspected was so much more. "Is that why there's such high security around our son? The yakuza were really after him?"
It wasn't just the two men on the door. There were more pairs of bodyguards dotted along the corridor and at the nurse's station, and they'd passed them all through the medical clinic too when they'd arrived.
Kirishima inclined his head. "The immediate threat has passed but Asami-sama is taking no chances."
"Why would he do this for Akihito?"
Kirishima paused. "Asami-sama cares a great deal for your son's welfare. Beyond that, I cannot say."
The two men exchanged a look, heavy with questions and meaning.
"Call me," Kirishima said simply to Sagano and Nakatani guarding the door, who bowed back, before turning to the parents again. "There is a comfortable waiting room just along here, if you'd allow me to show you. Would you care for refreshments? Early dinner perhaps?"
Asami returned later just as Kirishima was trying to stop Sana and Tatsuhiro from leaving.
"I already took the liberty of arranging a comfortable suite for you at the Royal Spire," Kirishima was saying to them. "It's just a 10-minute walk from here."
They turned as Asami swept down the corridor, his coat tails flapping in his wake. The two guards behind him slipped away as he approached.
"Good evening," Asami greeted, inclining his head. In the space of that single gesture he transformed into the easy air they'd felt before, if a little rushed.
The couple nodded back. "We were just heading out to arrange accommodations," Tatsuhiro said.
"There's no need," Asami insisted, "Kirishima has everything arranged at the Spire. Shall I send the limo for you?"
"Goodness, no!" Sana objected, making Asami hide a smile at the family resemblance. "I mean, thank you, but no. We couldn't possibly impose on you so much. You really didn't need to go to so much trouble or expense."
"I assure you it was neither, as I own the hotel." They only looked mildly surprised. Asami continued lowly, "Besides it's the least I can do after getting your son involved in such unpleasant business, so please. It would allay my own burden to a degree if you could accept."
The couple looked at each other, hesitating.
It was enough for Asami. "Excuse me." He started towards Akihito's (his) room.
"He didn't want us there," Sana blurted.
Hand on the handle, Asami paused to decipher the tone. Warning or accusation? Forewarning that he might not be welcome was very different to asking why he would be welcome if they weren't.
This wasn't someone he could just brush off. This was Akihito's mother. He considered his words. "We experienced something very difficult together. Perhaps he feels a connection..." His voice dipped, introspective. "Perhaps that's easier right now." He stilled, his own words striking a chord. It was troubling.
"Good evening." He disappeared into the room.
The Takaba couple were still watching the door after it closed, wondering what they'd just seen.
It was Tatsuhiro who suddenly asked, "Was Asami-sama saying it was his fault? But didn't Akihito say it was him they were after?"
"They seem to feel responsible for each other," was all Kirishima could say.
Asami said nothing as he entered. He knew Akihito was awake. Coat and suit jacket over the chair, gun and holster in the bedside drawer, waistcoat and tie over the jacket. Shoes off. Wordlessly he squeezed into bed and arranged his arm and shoulder under the smaller man, the sheets over them both.
Akihito pressed his nose towards Asami, took a deep breath –
"You showered again."
"Hmm."
"All ok?"
"Hmm."
Akihito didn't ask anything more. He didn't need to.
He was soon asleep.
Tuesday
Dr. Fujimoto pulled back the sheets. "Ready?"
"I was ready hours ago but someone wouldn't leave. I'm sick of staring at the same walls all the time."
"Why did Asami-sama need to leave first?" Mum asked.
He wasn't talking about catheters and dicks with his parents, thank you very much. "It's a surprise," he said instead. "I'm gonna be up by the time he's back."
They'd had an awkward breakfast together when his parents had arrived to find Asami already (still) there, working at the table, in a fresh set of clothes. His mum seemed genuinely puzzled to see him there, though Akihito was sure that his dad suspected something. Akihito had still said nothing about it. How the hell was he meant to, anyway? He'd never considered how to 'come out' to his parents before 'cos it had never been an issue until Asami had barged into his life. It had never occurred to him that he was anything but as straight as one of those laser beams you could project onto the moon.
But first things first. Aiming for a smooth motion in one go as the doctor had told him, he grabbed the hand rail and rolled to the side and dropped his feet off the bed and tipped himself to sit upright – "Fuck...!"
Clearly his parents were concerned enough not to pick him up on his language. His mum rushed forwards –
"No!" He could only gasp sharply, breathing to bear the pain. For some reason Asami's soft rumbling to Relax, you're alright Akihito sounded in his mind, which was so the wrong time and place and he found himself half snickering as his face contorted. "This sucks..." Which just set off even more grimacing giggles 'cos his mind was still in totally inappropriate places.
His mum was still hovering. "Akihito?"
"I'm alright. I can do it."
After the initial rush of agony, it ebbed away to a background throb that he could tolerate. He gingerly eased himself onto his legs, sliding his feet into the slippers, his ass off the bed. He steadied himself on the handrail for a moment before letting go.
Slower than a tortoise with a Zimmer frame but so what? He was standing on his own two feet.
He looked up, his face bright with the biggest grin they'd seen in a long while. "Woohoo!"
Two minutes later – because it took that long just to traverse the big room – "Holy sh–moly!"
They'd given him an undercut on one side where Scarface had bashed him, revealing an ugly mosaic of black and blue that wouldn't have even passed for modern art. The bathroom lighting wasn't helping his ghastly complexion any. The unhealthy pallor and bags sinking his eyes must have been even worse a day ago.
"I'm so not digging this look."
"The bruising will be gone in a couple of weeks," Fujimoto's reflection reassured. "Your hair will grow back."
"I know," he said. "It looks worse than it is, right?"
"To an extent. But the internal damage was substantial. You need time to heal."
Akihito started his wobbly, shuffling way back to the bed. "Asami said that too."
She was a persistent shadow at his elbow, close by in case he fell, monitoring his movement, holding the catheter drainage bag. Splendid. "Then he must be right."
"Oh no, not another groupie who worships the ground he walks on and can't think for themselves!" Akihito joked.
Fujimoto grinned. This young man was a breath of fresh air.
His mum was doing her brave smile. "You're doing really well, sweetie."
His dad watched quietly, nodding encouragingly when Akihito caught his eye.
Finally at his destination, Akihito eased back onto the edge of the bed. Fujimoto hooked the wee bag back on the side of the bed – the only one pulling a face was Akihito – and then she herded his parents out, saying she needed to check dressings and they needed privacy.
But as she closed the door, she suggested, "Why don't we see about removing that catheter before Asami-sama comes back?"
He grimaced. "I really want to, but I also don't."
"Don't worry, I've seen it all before. Yours too."
"That doesn't make me feel any better, you know!"
She laughed. "At least you didn't get an erection when I was inserting it. That happens surprisingly frequently."
Humming innocently, she left to fetch sterile gloves, surgical drapes, disinfectant, cotton swabs, all in a disposable tray... It was good to see some colour back in the young man's cheeks, she was pleased to note when she came back.
Fortunately for Akihito, when it came to removing the damn thing Fujimoto was completely professional about it, and the catheter was out with minimum fuss and discomfort – and luckily no embarrassing boner – with still no sign of Asami.
That was when it happened. His parents returned from their wander around the clinic with a newspaper.
The docks, no problem. Explosions, fine too, though probably because he deliberately skipped away from it. What slammed him like a fist to the chest was the barrage of incidents involving the Nishizuma Group. The Oyabun and the top lieutenants had been shivved in a prison riot in what police were calling a targeted attack. And dozens, dozens, many of the top advisors and muscle and regional heads of gangs and lawyers and accountants, had fallen to a catalogue of supposedly natural causes and unfortunate accidents – heart attacks, drug overdoses, an electrical fire, vehicle or other road accidents, a collapsed building –
"Akihito?" His mum saw his face. She immediately thought he was looking at the sequence images of the entire length of the dock exploding into an inferno, taken from across the bay. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have brought that in here –"
Akihito snatched it back, crumpling the paper. He'd lost his place – where was he – where was he – there! Wakajima. The only top lieutenant missing from the body count, still missing, presumed dead in the explosion.
A systemic wipe-out. That's what the police were calling it. An entire Yakuza group eradicated, the likes of which hadn't been seen since the Shinjui-Kan was obliterated nearly three decades past. Speculations were rife about a takeover, or a new player in town, or an unprecedented crack down for some unpardonable transgression... The only ones spared were minors and their parents.
It wasn't like he didn't know what Asami did. He even understood why. He was also acutely aware of the hypocrisy of knowing – or at least knowing enough to be able to imagine – what might be happening with Scarface with so little qualm it was practically negligible. But this? All of this? Because of what had happened at the docks? ...Because of Akihito?
"Oh god..."
The millstone was too heavy around his neck. He couldn't bear its weight.
Akihito felt the eyes on him.
He blinked, bleary, finding himself staring at the windows. It was quiet.
He glanced at the tables and settee. Nope. He finally turned his head towards the rest of the room. His parents were gone.
Asami leaned against the closed door, hands in pockets. His face was blank. No amusement, no arrogance, no maddening smugness.
Akihito's stomach squirmed to his feet.
Asami knew. He knew Asami knew. His parents must have told him about the newspaper, but unlike them Asami would know what was really eating away at him.
Akihito scowled. "Were you hiding it from me?"
Asami considered. "Delaying, perhaps."
"'Cos you knew I wouldn't approve?"
Asami's gaze narrowed. "Since when do I require your approval on how I handle my associates?"
"Wow. You're in a pissy mood."
That had stung. Maybe true, but it stung all the same. Or maybe it was just the way Asami said it. It was beyond frigid. Like sub-zero.
"I knew you'd react like this," Asami told him – why did it sound like a rebuke? – "and that it would be easier with some distance. When you had recovered some."
"Is that right?" Akihito grabbed the rail, swung his legs off the bed as he swung himself to a sitting position. He grit his jaw, bore the flare of his aching side until it ebbed to a background throb. "I'd say I've recovered some. And hey, newsflash asshole, still sucks."
Asami absorbed all this without a flicker of expression. But then again he was doing his brick-wall thing. Akihito could have started breakdancing on his head and a trilobite fossil would have been more impressed.
"I guess you weren't kidding when you said you have your moments, huh?"
"Is that what you think this is?" Asami said coolly.
"Isn't it? I'd say it qualifies. But it's beyond aggressive, you know. Out of control."
That provoked a sneer, about as warm and bright as the six sun-less months of Antarctic winter. "On the contrary. It's perfectly controlled. Meticulously planned. Exactly as I conduct all my business."
"Revenge is business?" Akihito asked in disbelief.
"Reckoning is business. Nishizuma was diversifying into human trafficking but he knew I'd never permit it. He was the one who sourced the explosives for Wakajima, in the hopes of taking me out. I do not tolerate mutiny."
"But the whole group?" Akihito exclaimed. "Everyone?!"
It was just the slightest angle. Asami's head tilted, dangerous, a warning. "Every one?"
"Ok, not every one, not families with underage kids. I saw that. But near enough."
"Everyone would have included closing down Ozumi and Kitano too, and Daigoku and Junai," Asami said to the growing horror on Akihito's face. "Targeting you was a direct attack against me and as such I'm owed restitution. But I granted mercy, a suspended sentence. Many would agree I have been extremely generous. Those groups have a chance to reflect on Nishizuma's fate that could have befallen them and prove their penance."
"I – I can't be responsible for this..."
"Why would you be. This is my world to direct and control."
"How can I not feel responsible, you're doing this 'cos they came after me!"
"Motives are rarely so clear cut," Asami declared, stalking towards the bed. "Multiple factors play into every decision. I destroyed the Nishizuma group because theirs was a coordinated insurgence against my word as law. What if I let them go unpunished? Nishizuma would open up Japan to human trafficking. Where one leads, others will follow, and in no time at all the black market would once again run riot with little regulation or control. The clans would battle for supremacy, throwing the country into the gang wars and infighting of old. It would be anarchy. Japan will be stained with the blood of innocents caught in the crossfire.
"But I also destroyed the Nishizuma group because it's the only way to remove the crosshairs from Z4m4 M1r0. Too many people know who you are now. They found you once, they'll find you again, and if it's not one group it'll be another. The law alone wouldn't deter them. Even if a few of them receive life sentences, they'd deem it worth the sacrifice to protect their livelihoods, their clan's way of life. Perhaps next time they would target your family, your friends, to get to you. Perhaps next time they'll succeed. Only the threat of complete obliteration will remove any question of targeting you again."
Why? Why did those authoritative words have to make perfect sense? Akihito could only wonder how far down Asami's blackness he'd already lost himself.
Asami's hand ran through the blond hair. "And I'm doing this because there can be absolutely zero doubt in their minds –" he fisted and drew the hair back, forcefully, carefully, tilted Akihito's face up – "I consider this entirely personal." His other hand pressed over Akihito's temple, slid down to his neck – both places Scarface had touched. "As though he had any right," Asami hissed. His hand dropped lower to the ribs, a trembling caress. "Any right..."
Asami had taken the fight right out of him, left him in thrall. Akihito could only sit there staring, pliant in Asami's firm hold.
Resolute and absolute, Asami's gaze and his dark baritone both. "Your every breath. Your every drop of blood. Only I can take it all from you. If anyone dares touch what belongs to me, they will know my vengeance."
Akihito drew back a little – or he tried, in any case. Asami didn't let him go far.
There was a warning bite in Akihito's voice. "Ok so I know you're one hell of a possessive bastard and this is how you roll when you get all territorial and shit, but let's just get one thing clear. That better have been rhetorical or metaphorical or whatever 'cos, straight up, nuh-uh. I'll have you know I like my breathing and blood exactly as it is."
"As do I. And the fact remains, I'll have every last inch of you."
"Fact?" Akihito spluttered. "It's a fact now, is it? Fucking hell, you're fucking messing with me..."
"What's there to joke about?" There was no warmth in Asami's sneer. "Just who do you think it is that you belong to?" Harsh. Deliberately so.
Akihito's temper flared. "What the fuck, Asami? Why're you being such a gigantic dick?!" He tried to twist out of Asami's grasp, his side burned for his efforts, but of course Asami didn't release him. "Let me go, damn it!"
"It's far too late to be backing out now, my dear Akihito," Asami rumbled darkly.
"You are such an arrogant, bull-headed – mmph!"
Asami silenced him with a hard kiss.
Always the same three knocks, the same measured timing. Akihito was beginning to recognize the signal.
Asami immediately broke off the kiss, holding Akihito long enough to check he was stable sitting up, before releasing him and stepping back from the bed. Not a second later Sagano opened the door to let his dad in.
"Am I interrupting?" his dad asked, seeing the two glaring daggers at each other.
"Excuse me, I was just leaving." Asami nodded curtly as he swept out.
"Yeah, great, run away, why don't you!" Akihito yelled after him, still flushed and a little breathy from the fierce kiss.
"Sure, of course," Tatsuhiro said in surprise as he stepped out of the way, his surprised look swinging from one to the other.
"I suppose it saves me trying to storm out on you!" Akihito carried on. "'Cos that's not gonna happen any time soon, is it! Argh!" He flung his hands, about all he could do. "He does my head in!"
As he considered if it was worth the effort of (very carefully) throwing himself down in a huff, his dad closed the door.
The older Takaba watched him quietly. "You always did jump heart and soul into the things that mattered to you."
Akihito was fuming too much to hear. He'd gone from starting to think he agreed with the bastard to being totally infuriated in the blink of an eye, so fast he was almost dizzy.
He knew Asami was possessive but that had been a whole other level of fucked up. Was that really what lay at that bastard's heart? Objectifying him, to own and use and ruin and discard as Asami saw fit? He started wondering if it had all been an act – protecting him 'cos it was easy for Asami, holding Akihito through his nightmares just to make him drop his guard...?
No. It wasn't. The incredible depth to which Asami had shared of himself, how he'd risked everything at the docks to try and save Akihito – there was no faking that. And Asami's voice... Akihito could still hear his name, raw with such emotion that made his chest squeeze even now, in that moment when they'd thought he was tumbling to his death.
Asami cared, in whatever capacity such a man was capable. Akihito was sure of it. He let out a turbulent sigh. Maybe it was just the ruthless face of Asami the crime lord, at the forefront what with dealing with the Nishizuma group and Scarface. Which meant what? That Asami wasn't himself? Or that this actually was his true self?
Akihito groaned. He was only going in circles like the endlessly rotating loading wheel of a computer jammed up with system updates and badly needing a defrag. And his dad was sitting by the window, simply looking out at the courtyard down below.
"Uh, hey, Dad," Akihito mumbled.
His dad turned and smiled easily as though Akihito hadn't just yelled after Asami and then disappeared into his thoughts.
"Where's Mum?"
"She's picking up some sushi. Hungry?"
"Asami-sama will return after dinner."
Akihito folded his arms. "Tell him he's only welcome if he's grovelling in apology for being a gigantic ass."
Glasses looked at him for a moment, his face blank. Probably surprised. "I will... pass on the message."
"Thank you," Akihito said politely, because he had no cause to be mad with Glasses.
Asami returned. There was no grovelling.
Fujimoto knocked briskly and entered the private room to find them at loggerheads, arms crossed and glaring at each other, a stalemate if she ever saw one. She had to mentally shake her head. These two...
"Fujimoto-sensei, can you please tell this obstinate buffoon that I am my own person and don't need him to monitor my every move and he should observe the clinic's visiting hours and get his ass out of here?"
"I can choose to spend the night here if I wish, Akihito. You have no bearing on my decision."
"I do if it's my bed you're choosing to impose yourself on. There isn't enough room."
"You'll find it's technically my bed you're lying in –"
"You know what I mean! But fine!" Akihito threw back the covers. "If you're so precious about it, take your damn bed!" He pulled a face as he rolled onto his side and sat up. "I'll find myself somewhere else to sleep!"
"Don't be absurd, you're still recovering."
"Then leave me alone and let me recover!"
Fujimoto cleared her throat none too subtly, injecting herself firmly before her patient became more agitated. "I need to change the bandages so you'll need to take a break from this discussion until later." She wasn't asking. "Asami-sama, if you have any business to take care of, now would be a good time. You may return in an hour."
Asami levelled her a hard look. It was unnerving but she held her ground. Her first priority was her patient, regardless of who was paying the bills.
Eventually he cast a last glare at Akihito. "I'll be back later."
"Don't bother!" Akihito yelled after him. "You should turn him away when he comes back," he muttered to the doctor as the door closed. "If he comes back."
He carefully slid off the bed, needing to let off steam, not used to being so cooped up unless he was immersed in his coding or investigations, adding to his irritability.
She was still there when he returned from the bathroom. "I heard from the nurses you've cut down on your painkillers. Doesn't it hurt still?"
"It's bearable but yeah. A bit. Sometimes a lot. I sneezed earlier, man that hurt like a b– uh, a lot."
She smiled at his toning down his language for her. "Good."
"Good?"
"It means your nerves are healthy. If you weren't in pain I'd be worried."
"Oh." He drifted over to the window, looking down at the courtyard. He remained silent and still, both of which were unnatural to this patient, Fujimoto had learned by now.
She followed leisurely, providing company but giving him space. She followed his gaze down.
Two children were kicking a ball around. Not old enough to be very coordinated yet, they missed as often as they sent it pinging unpredictably. They carried on happily... until the ball landed in a flower pot, squashing the yellow flowers. The kids grabbed the ball, their little heads turning this way and that... then fled the scene of the crime, presumably back to their parents out of sight from this angle.
Lost in his own thoughts, the troubled look didn't once budge from Akihito's face.
She was watching him thoughtfully. "Keep up with your physio and breathing exercises as we showed you, and by around New Years you should barely feel any discomfort," she told him gently. "But in many ways, the wounds that you can't see are the last to heal. The mental scars can last the longest and have the greatest impact."
The clouds thickened. Was he going to be plagued by more nightmares? Jumping at shadows and needing Asami close just to get through the day?
"Asami-sama told me of the ordeal you went through recently. Only in so far as to the recently healed wound on your arm," she hastened to add as his eyes flew to hers. "He told me of the physical injury but was extremely brief on the details." She kept her tone kind, but matter-of-fact. "But you already struggled with several nightmares under my watch –"
"I'm dealing with it," he muttered as he made an about turn – very slowly – and ambled back to the bed. Damn the oversized room and his stupid injuries.
"I'm sure you are. Everything I've seen of you tells me that you're a fighter. But even the strongest of us needs a helping hand sometimes."
"If you're going to bug me about counselling, I swear I'll discharge myself from the clinic right now." 'Cos what could he say, anyway, that wouldn't be betraying Asami? It was out of the question.
She smiled. "I figured you'd say that. Which is why I wasn't going to mention it." She helped ease him back onto the bed and stretch his legs out. "There would be little benefit in it if you're that averse. But there is someone who could help."
"You're talking about Asami, aren't you?" Akihito hid a wince as he shifted to straighten out his slacks. "I'm not going to go all mushy and cry on his shoulder, you know." Though he might be game for some snotty revenge on the pristine suit with the way Asami was behaving.
"It's not a weakness to want to be close to somebody. The desire for companionship is human nature. But you're not the only one who needs the support." She was so serious it made him anxious. "You didn't see Asami-sama when you were first brought in. He refused to leave your side."
Akihito's brow pinched. He wrapped his fingers behind his neck, hanging his elbows. "Yeah, you mentioned that."
"I'm not sure that I really explained," she said, surprising him with her insistence. "I'm truly sorry to tell you like this but I think it's important for both of you that you know. Asami-sama was wet, and he was covered in your blood. But he refused to leave the waiting room to change in case he missed an update about your condition. It was six hours later when you came out of surgery that Kirishima-san managed to persuade him to get cleaned up, because otherwise he wouldn't have been allowed into the ICU to be with you. Then he might as well have been glued to your bedside. Every time you were agitated or woke up, every time you so much as twitched, he was right there. When I say he refused to leave your side, I mean, he refused to leave your side."
Akihito was staring, a tight lump wedged in his throat.
"It's clear to anyone that you mean a great deal to him. To see somebody you care about, in the condition that you were in, so close to dying, even to a man like Asami-sama it would leave a mark. He needs you right now as much as you need him, whether he realizes it or not. So let him help you, and you don't have to tell him – actually I'd advise that you don't – but think of it as helping him too."
Akihito didn't know if he was shocked or guilty or still mad. Was all this why Asami was being so insufferable, more than usual? But what he'd said... Did this make that ok? He found himself in muddy waters, unsure.
But there was also a silly giddy voice in his head that latched onto proof of how serous Asami was about the two of them, and he was also awash with a fair amount of relief.
"Ugh..."
She patted his shoulder. "I know. Japanese men and their emotions, I might as well be talking about aliens coming for tea. Come on, let's change the dressings."
Akihito was awake when Asami returned. It was 51 or 52 minutes past midnight, he knew because he'd been religiously checking the time on his phone. But he lay there, feigning sleep, as the soft tread approached the bed and Asami stood watching him in the dim gloom. Asami would know he was awake but he kept his eyes closed anyway.
They stayed like that, both of them waiting – for a look, for a touch – but too stubborn to bend.
After what felt like several minutes Asami turned and started walking away.
Something pulled at Akihito. A need, a frantic worry, a sudden notion that something would change if Asami walked away now, that a wall would come up between them and solidify overnight and it would be near impossible to breach –
"Asami..."
The tall man paused. He only half turned.
The mental wall was still materializing, the picture a future-Asami appearing through super-reinforced glass, forever a little distant... Unfounded imagery or not, it frightened Akihito more than anything.
"Since you came all this way..."
He winced. It wasn't how he'd wanted to say it at all.
He couldn't guess what was going through Asami's mind as he remained there, still half-poised to leave. But then he turned a little more, just enough to catch Akihito's eye.
He didn't know what Asami saw. As for himself he couldn't read Asami at all, it was like staring at a slab of cold, black granite.
Another pause, then Asami headed for the door.
Akihito could only stare helplessly as Asami opened the door, took a step outside –
"I won't be needing the limo again tonight. Have Kirishima meet me here in the morning."
"Yes, sir," confirmed the guard.
Closing the door, Asami walked back over. "You have quite the look on your face," he observed as he shed his outer clothes. They all ended up over or under the chair beside the bed.
Akihito said nothing as the holster, gun and watch went in the bedside table. He was still silent as Asami slid in beside him, as the larger man gently slotted them together. Akihito let Asami's warm arms surround him.
Asami's breathing relaxed and deepened. His heartbeat pulsed reassuringly under Akihito's ear.
"You came back."
Asami inhaled, exhaled. "You called me back."
Akihito frowned at a crease in Asami's shirt. "I thought you were going to leave."
"I intended to."
Akihito's gut sank.
Until Asami added, "But only until morning."
That was more comforting than Akihito would admit aloud. Not only that but Asami's warmth, his solidity, his scent – it all calmed him. But Akihito knew sleep wouldn't come just yet. There was something he had to know, something he had to ask while it burned in him. If not now, he might never find the courage again.
"Would you ever kill me?"
There was no immediate reply. Would Asami answer? Akihito wondered. Or worse perhaps, would he believe the answer? The question hung in the air, a quiet tension –
Until Asami's chest started shaking.
Akihito drew back. "What...? Are you laughing? You're seriously laughing at me? What the hell, it was a serious question!"
A warm hand soothed along his arm, reassuring even as the smirk never left Asami's face. "Trust you to ask me such a thing, Akihito. Not many would. Or could."
Akihito threw him a look. "And that's meant to be funny how?"
"Merely the irony of you being the one to ask."
"Are we on different planets right now 'cos I have no idea what you're on about."
Asami shifted, mindful of Akihito's injuries as he slid free and let the smaller man back down on the pillow. Braced on an elbow, he said nothing for a while, simply staring down at Akihito, his gaze golden and mesmerizing.
His voice was a rumbling declaration. "I would see you outlive me if it's the last thing I do. How could I take your life?"
Stunned. Swaying in astonishment. Akihito was actually speechless for a moment. There wasn't even anywhere to hide 'cos the bed was too small for two and Asami was staring down at him intensely enough to spark a small fire.
"You could've just told me that earlier, you know," Akihito mumbled at length, 'cos he didn't have the first clue how he was supposed to respond to something like that. "You were being such an insufferable dick I almost didn't let you come back."
Long fingers carded though his hair, finding purchase with the lightest pressure, tantalizing with the shadow of Asami's usual MO. It was just enough to produce the softest gasp from Akihito.
Asami smirked. "You should know by now, Akihito. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
Akihito rolled his eyes, his lips tugging into a grin. "Selfish bastard," he muttered as Asami buried him in a kiss that left him with no doubt as to where they stood.