LEGAL DRUG (GOHOU DRUG) FANFIC
Title: Sanguine
Written By: RinoaDestiny (Ann Koo)
CHAPTER 23
Nagoya was different from Tokyo, despite being another city. This, Kazahaya surmised as he looked down at the stretch of cityscape from the tiny balcony of their new apartment. Nagoya was not only more wintry – snow still on the ground and ice in the air – but everything about it felt unique. A lot more tradition in terms of shrines – Atsuta being the main one – and a lot of museums from the pamphlets Saiga-san gave him. Art museums with those fancy paintings and sculptures. Neat, if only he could see them. Breathing in, he exhaled a frosty puff of air.
A few more weeks and then March. Spring rolling through and the sheen of ice and mist gone, pulling back to let in the sun and flowers. He wondered how Kakei-san was holding up – if he was okay after that trick he'd pulled – and how Saiga-san was as well, mentally. The man didn't speak much and Kakei-san's suggestion prodded at him. He'd seen the man open his phone, stare at the screen, close it, and return to whatever he was doing.
For Saiga-san, that'd be sleeping.
Behind him, the door rolled open and closed, sliding back smooth and quiet. Footsteps, slow and cautious edged around him, moved next to him. He knew those arms, sleeved in weatherproofed black fabric, cuffed at the wrists. He knew those hands, scars on individual fingers; bones straight and elegant except on the one that had been broken. Kazahaya knew but didn't look. He waited. The wind passed them by, carrying the last few traces of a fading season.
Waited and heard silence.
"Kazahaya."
His name dropping into that silence like a bird in mid-flight, wings opening to soar. Rikuo's voice low, as if afraid to vocalize more. Without saying a word, Kazahaya reached out, touched his hand. Waited. Felt Rikuo reciprocate, fingers closing around his in a gentle grip. A small gesture of theirs, if Rikuo was willing. That was always the key. Let Rikuo decide – don't push him. Not now. Not ever.
"Couldn't take it in there anymore?"
"Saiga's sleeping. It's too quiet." That got his attention; he turned, looking at Rikuo. It disconcerted him to see Rikuo's discerning gaze, calm beneath the storm. Easy to forget that in that turbulent mind, Rikuo was still thinking, trying to put the broken pieces together. His eyes in this light were clear green. "Couldn't stay in there to hear myself think."
"Are you a mind reader now?"
His light teasing went over Rikuo's head, slid off him like snowflakes. "No."
"Oh. I just thought...you know, that I thought you knew –"
"It's not my specialty, Kazahaya." Pause. "Don't know what I am now."
"You're still a telekinetic, Rikuo." His turn to stop; to judge his words. "That hasn't changed. You just need to...what's the term...relearn it? I'm sure Saiga-san will help."
"Kakei knows more about that than Saiga does."
"Oh."
"Besides," Rikuo leaning against the railing, windswept dark hair cresting over his eyes, "I can't ask him now." Another pause; one too many. "I think he misses Kakei."
The other man being asleep wasn't strange, considering the circumstances. Then again, wasn't Saiga-san always sleeping, even if his pillow of choice was Kakei-san's lap? Kazahaya flushed, remembering. His cheeks felt warm, probably pink in the light and obvious in the chill. He hoped Rikuo would pass it off as something else. Next to him, his fellow psychic fell silent, staring out at the wide expanse of city beneath them. Nagoya stirred in the winter winds, just another city in everyday Japan.
"Why did you do it, Rikuo?"
Rikuo didn't say anything at first, as if shying away from his question. His hand tensed, clutching Kazahaya's fingers hard. Kazahaya winced. The pressure immediately lifted; Rikuo's fingers loosening in agitated haste.
"Sorry."
"It's okay."
Rikuo stood transfixed, as if pinned down by the enormity of answering. To Kazahaya's chagrin, Rikuo's expression subtly changed. Walls in his eyes and a sudden shield between them. He felt it, dammit and stood rooted in place as well, watching Rikuo struggle. Listening to the sibilant whispering of the wind around them, adding in sound where none existed. Overhead, some birds flew by, migratory patterns in full emergence.
He counted more than two minutes.
Three.
Four.
He was about to tally five when Rikuo spoke. "You know why, Kazahaya."
"You don't want me involved."
"It's more than that." Never much of a speaker, Rikuo looked as if the words were stuck in his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as reflexive swallowing overtook speech. Here on the balcony, in a space so small, Rikuo was so tall and yet, so overwhelmed. Another step and he would be closer to him. Close enough to hug and convey "I understand." Kazahaya didn't move. Just stood, waiting.
"I want you safe. I want you away."
"From them."
"From me." The words hit him hard but he glimpsed the painful blow uttering them did to Rikuo. He reached out; taking that step and Rikuo let him. There was a glimmer in those eyes but Rikuo didn't cry. Not today. Not right now. "I can't let them get you, you know that, right?"
"But why do they want me?"
"I can't say."
He doesn't hug Rikuo; felt Rikuo wasn't ready. Instead, he stood aside, hands tucked into his jacket pockets and waited. Tension around Rikuo's mouth, muscles tight and apprehension in his green gaze. Almost as if he wanted to say something. The hands behind the psychic curled around the railings, scars stretched shiny. The veins pop, too prominent against thin skin.
"Kazahaya...you shouldn't get so close to me."
"But I thought –"
"I don't really..." Rikuo's eyes closed. Opened. "I know what you're trying to do but...I see the way you look at me sometimes and..."
"Rikuo?"
"It scares me, Kazahaya. I don't want...I don't need to..."
"I'm not trying to hurt you, Rikuo. I just want to –"
"I know." Pause. "That's the problem, Kazahaya. I can't go through that...again."
"Oh."
Overhead, more birds flew by, following an internal compass to warmer lands. Their clothes rustled, weatherproof fabrics rippling in the wind and Rikuo's dark hair fell over his eyes. Kazahaya was at a loss; didn't know what to say. He dared not bring up Tsukiko; although, Rikuo indirectly referred to her. The center of that core of pain, regardless of what else he'd suffered. He wouldn't re-open that wound, if it ever closed.
Silence. The temperature warming as the sun wheeled above, light and heat coming down.
Rikuo pushing off the railing, heading indoors. Not a word uttered.
The glass door sliding left, then right. Closing with a silent click.
Kazahaya followed him inside.
Found him sitting on his bed in their room, face to the wall; hands between his lap. His profile still but not serene. A slight trembling of the lower lip, quickly reined in. Private pain; he shouldn't be intruding. Kazahaya lingered, unsure what to do. Rikuo was still hard to read in some regards – this being one of them. But he couldn't leave now that he was here. What was he to do?
"Do you want something, Kazahaya?"
Pain leeching into Rikuo's voice. It pained Kazahaya just to hear it. "I...uh..."
"If you have something to say, say it."
Or else leave me alone. That was the gist he got from Rikuo's tone, weariness softening the ragged edges of pain. Rikuo hadn't turned around to see him. Having been through this before, Kazahaya kept the seed of impatience from taking root. Didn't move. Considered the situation, Rikuo's behavior, and his words.
Said them.
"Rikuo...I don't know what you want. You seem to...how to say it? You want to be near me but then you're afraid to get close. Pushing me away even though you want to protect me. I...don't know to deal with that, Rikuo. I'm not you. I'm just..."
That got Rikuo turned around, facing him. "Don't go there, Kazahaya."
"I can't help it, Rikuo. I just..."
They could've been frozen in this room, encapsulated in this box for eternity and Kazahaya would've waited, forever, to hear the conversation close. Sunlight falling from the window opposite Rikuo, warm light spilling onto double beds swathed with dark gray comforters and finished with plumb white pillows. Rikuo's hands on the bedspread, fingers tensed and the silken sheen of black fabric twisting around the younger man's arms.
Kazahaya waited.
"You care too much, Kazahaya."
"That's not a bad thing."
"It is." An admission of sorts. "Look at me."
The unspoken name. Tsukiko. Look at me...look at how I cared...how much I lost. Which meant that Rikuo did care, which meant... Kazahaya had to sit down. Hoping his knees weren't weak and trembling, he managed to walk over to his bed and lie down. The pillow was puffy – new? – and the comforter was some insane thread count. Trust Saiga-san to shell out the yen to make this a home away from home.
Green Drugstore. Kakei-san.
He closed his eyes.
"Rikuo?"
A moment of silence. Sunlight golden in the curved periphery of his eyelids.
"What?"
"I don't mind caring. I just...well...need to know if you..."
"If I care."
Trust Rikuo to know him well, still. Something in Rikuo's tone there, akin to getting a fishhook snagged in his throat. A longer pause that filled the room, flowing into the gap between them. He allowed Rikuo his silences, understood where they came from. The thread count beneath his hands was extraordinary, like something out of a hotel. Saiga-san really didn't have to go through all this trouble, he thought. He didn't know if Rikuo was aware of it, yet.
A faint squeak from the other bed. He opened his eyes. Sat up.
Rikuo was on the floor, arms around his knees. He knew this posture, this withdrawal. Waited yet again, along with all the prolonged silences that made up this afternoon. Nothing but this waiting between them – psychic to psychic and none of their abilities made a difference.
"Kazahaya..."
"Rikuo?"
"Can you leave me alone for a minute?" An apology framed in that morose green gaze. "I'm sorry...I just can't..."
"It's okay, Rikuo. I understand." He did.
"Thank you."
This time, they had a door. Quietly, gently, Kazahaya closed it on his way out. Took a deep breath and went back towards the balcony. The light had changed, subtly, and he could spend his time out there, waiting. Waiting while seeing Nagoya in its paler glow, birds overhead.
Time enough until dinner to head back in.
Time enough for Rikuo to come to terms with that unanswered question.
"Kakei," Saiga-san on his cell phone, device glued to his ear, "what are you saying? They're gone? Left you alone?"
From where Kazahaya stood, he heard his boss's sharp pronunciation over the speaker. He couldn't make out what Kakei-san said but it was easy to infer from Saiga-san's replies. Scooping rice into three small ceramic bowls, he placed the scooper back into its place on the rice cooker and closed the lid. Saiga-san reached over and took one from him, nodding towards the other bowls. "It's all right," he said. "Lighten your load."
"Thanks, Saiga-san."
"Huh? Oh, that was me helping the boy out. Not Rikuo. He's in their room now. I don't know what for. He's okay, Kakei. I don't think they had a fight." A small shrug in his direction. "So, Mr. Fancy Suit is gone, huh? Where are you right now?"
The chopsticks went on the table. It was round, not square and some sort of plastic mimicking wood. The chairs were simple, plastic with metal supports. Not that Kazahaya wanted better – this was better than nothing.
"But they couldn't have... You think they did? That's why you're in the break room?"
Noise over the phone.
"I see. Watch yourself, love. A shame I can't be there."
Silence.
"Kakei?"
Some more noise over the line, syllabic gentleness.
"I love you, too. Take care, okay? Try to get some sleep tonight – don't worry yourself over us too much. Heh, I know. I'll be careful, too. Good night."
He waited until the older man put the phone away and joined him by the table. "How's Kakei-san doing?"
"He's okay. Seems Yoshiro left but Kakei thinks they might have surveillance on him. Still playing it safe, just as we are. Shame I can't take you boys out. Nagoya's supposed to be beautiful once March rolls around."
"We're staying in, huh?"
"'Fraid so, my boy. Can't have anyone tracking us, see. They already know we ended up in Nagoya as far as I'm concerned. Don't need to give them any extra help. Rikuo's not joining us?"
"I didn't say I wasn't."
Kazahaya turned, removing his hand from a dish of soybeans before he could drop it. Rikuo looked at him – unreadable expression – and nodded at Saiga-san. Didn't ask any questions about Kakei-san or if he'd missed anything. How much had he heard and how long had he been behind them, also waiting? So much of that today, as if time extended for them both.
"Good to have you here, Rikuo."
"Thanks, Saiga." Rikuo pulling his chair out, sitting down with them. The sensation was strange; it'd been a while since they'd eaten together like this. Saiga-san was a weird addition, come to think of it. The man dwarfed them with impressive size alone. Placing his palms together, Kazahaya joined the others, preparing for gratitude for the meal.
"Itadakimasu."
Gratitude given, he picked his chopsticks off the table and started on the rice. Nice to see that Saiga-san adhered to polite convention. Rikuo murmured it but the effort seemed halfhearted. It wasn't like Rikuo to give thanks for the food; never had, always had the paper with him. Kazahaya remembered that detail and also recalled Rikuo's refusal to touch a newspaper ever again. Something about Tsukiko's death and subsequent disappearance.
He wasn't about to bring it up.
"You feeling better, boy?"
"I'm all right." Rikuo's voice low and colorless. "It doesn't hurt...now."
"How's your sleep?"
Silence. "I manage."
Kazahaya kept quiet, knowing a lot about Rikuo's sleep cycles. Rikuo was still having nightmares but like the other boy told him, he was getting good at waking himself up. He'd no idea how many times he'd slept past that, leaving Rikuo to a solitary battle. But how does one – how would Rikuo or he – fight those images, those impressions, those memories corroded deep into the soul? Stamped into the mind awake or asleep? How?
He didn't know the answer.
"Are you taking the pills?" Saiga-san's tone gentle.
"Only if I have to."
"Don't begrudge them. Take them if you need it. I can always call Kakei."
"Did Kakei call?"
Saiga's chopsticks lowered, clinking against the rim of his bowl. The bowl of rice went back on the table. Kazahaya thought the older man looked bereft, suddenly, in that moment. Missing someone. Missing Kakei-san.
"He did. We need to be careful, Rikuo. He thinks someone might've bugged the place. Might be listening in. We have to take extra precautions. This goes for you and the kid."
"But if..." Pause. "If he's bugged, how's he –"
"Kakei's smart. He improvised. Found a place no one's getting into."
"Where?"
"You probably know it. Can figure it out."
Rikuo's expression changed, puzzlement turning into awareness. The flicker of that understanding lit his eyes, effused his face. "The break room."
"Right. Clever, isn't it?"
"It's your bedroom. Did Kakei count on that?"
Saiga-san shrugged and reached for the bowl and chopsticks again. Some soybeans went from the plate into the older man's mouth. Kazahaya picked at his rice, decided against it, and reached instead for a platter of fish. Rikuo, he'd noticed, wasn't eating much.
"He's the boss. He'll know best."
"Ah." The slight sound of plastic against ceramic.
"Eat some more, boy. Got some good stuff for the both of you – don't let it go to waste."
"Saiga-san cooked the fish," Kazahaya said, eating a sliver of the meat. "I did the rice."
Rikuo shook his head and that motion, somehow, comforted Kazahaya. It felt normal. It felt...felt like Rikuo all over again.
"It's good."
"Only the best for you boys."
An easier silence, one that Kazahaya felt he could move in; let the conversation idle down and fade without strangeness. A simple dinner. Fish and soybeans and rice. Saiga-san with his black shades, eyebrows and tone of voice giving away what his hidden eyes couldn't. The older man was the first to finish his meal, excusing himself. Kazahaya caught sight of the cell phone in Saiga-san's hands again, fingers clicking away over the miniature keyboard. Possibly another text message to Kakei-san.
Good to know he wasn't the only one feeling the loss.
"Kazahaya."
Rikuo's voice catching his attention, drifting him back towards his roommate. "What?"
"The rice was a bit dry."
"What?" Decibels rising out of surprise. "But how? I measured and –"
"I thought about what you asked me earlier."
That clapped his mouth shut, even as a part of him realized what Rikuo had done. Realized and wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. They haven't destroyed you completely, Rikuo. Don't you see? Can you hear yourself?
"You asked me if I cared. For you. I..."
Waiting.
"I guess...I think..."
Don't say anything, Kazahaya. Listen.
"I mean...I do but...I can't..." Another moment of silence. Rikuo looking at him but as if past him. As if something was there, obstructing him. "Kazahaya, I can't let go of her. Not yet. I'm sorry."
Tsukiko.
He should've seen it coming. Still, the knowledge that her death lingered long, effectively blocking Rikuo's affection for him, hurt. A pang in the heart – small; nothing in comparison – and Kazahaya blocked his own pain, remembering Rikuo's. Seeing the expression in his eyes, on his face – lines of guilt and anguish and the images of blood and a girl – and Kazahaya decided he had to move them past this moment. Past sitting here at a lonely kitchen table, utensils and bowls unkempt and he came across the idea. Quite normal, actually.
It just might work.
"Rikuo, um..." His nervousness wasn't feigned. "Can you help me with the dishes?"
"What?" Rikuo easing out of the past, expression focused on him. "The dishes?"
"Yeah. Saiga-san helped me before, because there's a lot of plates and bowls and...I can take some. You don't need to help me with all of them."
"Do you need me to dry them?" The tone was pure Rikuo, albeit without sarcasm.
"That'd be nice."
"Where'd you like me to start?"
"I dunno. Maybe your own?" Kazahaya picked up his bowl, giving his hands something to hold. He didn't touch Rikuo – not after that look in the other boy's eyes. "I think I might need some help with the fish platter. Saiga-san took care of that one."
"I see why."
"Thanks, Rikuo."
Another pause. A day of waiting. "I'm sorry, Kazahaya."
"For what?"
"For earlier."
"It's okay, Rikuo." His own silence, falling into the gaps. "Come on, let's get this done. Saiga-san said Nagoya's quite beautiful at night. I've only been out on the balcony during the day. Would like to see it tonight. Would you, uh, like to join me?"
"I...don't see why not."
"Okay. Well, the fish goes in the refrigerator and...I'll take care of the rice."
"You would."
"Rikuo...oh never mind."