Anchor

Written by: RinoaDestiny

#35 – The Invitations

The sealed envelope in his hand with its telltale red wax stamp – a quaint throwback to older days – bore a seal he'd never seen before. It wasn't Antonov's, Rugal was long dead, and Kagura had no involvement in its planning this time around. That meant a new player – someone else financing and organizing this tournament. If the person was sane like Antonov, then at least they wouldn't have to fight them at the end. However, if it was another megalomaniac like Rugal…

Shit always happened during the tournaments. Less would be nice, though.

Iori waited by the door, putting all that aside. Receiving the invite also meant Kyo was soon to arrive, which he looked forward to. It'd only been days since their trip to Tokyo ended and yet…. Staying at the clan estate, away from the city bustle and in proximity to his childhood nightmares was…subtly taxing. Being in his apartment, surrounded by familiarity and with Kyo close by was comforting. Tomorrow was another day in the estate – he'd deal with it then, not now.

The envelope creased between his fingers, paper fine and smooth. He'd left the seal unbroken, so he and Kyo could do it together – Kagura undoubtedly would call – to find the exact details. Besides that, he wondered what else they'd do today. Maybe he'd put some jazz music on and they could just relax.

A slight crackle on the intercom. "Yagami, I'm here."

Iori undid the chain, threw the bolt aside, and opened the door. Kyo, hair bronzed by sunlight, took one step in and kissed him. Grabbing him by the shoulder, Iori repositioned him against the wall and kicked the door closed. Kyo's fists in his shirt, pulling him closer and Iori leaned into it, just as hungry for physical contact. The invite dropped from his hand. Warmth uncurled in his belly, as though Kyo brought more than himself across the threshold.

When the kiss finally broke, Kyo clasped a hand around the back of his neck and nestled against his shoulder. "Didn't surprise you, did I?"

"At least the neighbors are out." The underside of his lip was swollen. "Should lock the door."

"Hmmm," Kyo said, sounding blissful. "Got a lot to tell you."

"Oh?" He should move – make sure they were secure – but it was nice like this with Kyo's weight against him.

"Yeah." Kyo shifted and something heavy banged against the wall. "I brought those records. Also stopped by Lawson for some fried chicken. You ate already?"

"Had lunch, but we can have those with beer."

Kyo sighed, sounding content. "Great."

Iori smiled and gently extricated himself from Kyo, seeing for the first time the laden canvas bag at his side. "Would be great if we moved." Locking the door, he bent to retrieve the dropped invite, left the entranceway and headed for the eat-in kitchen, Kyo right behind him. Grabbing a few cans of cold beer, he put them alongside the carton of fried chicken Kyo had removed from his now open bag. A quick glimpse inside revealed several bound volumes stacked side by side.

"Knew you'd go for those," Kyo said, a smile in his voice. "Dad thought you might be interested in those first. He picked them out." The scrape of a chair leg and then the sharp crack of an opened beer can. "Said you can keep the rest till we're done with them."

"Generous of him." Pulling his own chair out, Iori sat and went for the bite-sized pieces of fried chicken.

"He gives you his thanks."

"What for?"

"Getting me to study." Kyo took a swallow of beer and gazed at him. "It means a lot to him, you know. Seeing me interested for once."

Iori looked at the morsel in his hand before popping it into his mouth. "I didn't do anything."

"I tried to recite a play 'cause of you. Badly, but still."

A snort escaped Iori before he could stop it. "It was bad, yes." He reached for a beer and opened it, downing a gulp. "But you did it yourself. You could've refused."

"For a bet I lost?" Kyo scoffed. "What'd you take me for?"

"Not industrious."

"We still have a hockey game to play."

"Haven't forgotten." Iori drained the rest of his beer and reached for the crumpled invite on the table. "Did you open yours yet?"

"No." With a flourish, Kyo removed his invite from his jeans pocket and held it between two fingers. "Knew you'd want to do it together. Don't recognize the seal, though."

"An unknown factor."

"Hope it's not trouble."

"There's always trouble," Iori said, sliding a finger beneath the envelope flap. "Let's see the conditions this year." The sight of Kyo preparing to rip the side of his envelope open, foregoing the wax seal entirely, brought forth another smile. "Ready?"

Kyo's grin was answer enough; together, they opened their envelopes, the sound of tearing paper and the crack of wax momentarily taking over brief silence. Withdrawing a cream-colored card, Iori studied the elegant English script and then the subsequent Japanese translation beneath. Next to him, Kyo turned the card over, as if looking for more clues.

"You are hereby formally invited to this year's King of Fighters tournament. We will be delighted to see you at the starting arena in Southtown, United States on the thirtieth of May. Additional details are on the back."

"I already checked," Kyo said, holding up his card like a sign. "Travel expenses are on us for the initial flight to Southtown. Accommodations like hotels and food, except everything off schedule, will be fully paid for by the tournament organizer. There's even a small map showing the location of the arena."

"So there is." Iori squinted, finding the small text unreadable but the bolded landmarks familiar. "Same as all the previous times, then."

"Yeah. Except we don't know if it comes with a jackass at the end."

"There's always a jackass at the end."

"Antonov wasn't."

"Verse was."

Kyo made a face and placed his invite on the table, reaching for his beer. "The Shun'ei kid is still around. It's not done yet." A small sigh. "At least we have a month before it starts. Maybe Kagura-san can figure something out."

"Have you decided –" His question to Kyo was interrupted by the sudden vibration in his pants pocket. Digging his phone out, he glanced at the lit screen. "Speaking of which…been expecting you, Kagura."

"Thank you for picking up this time, Yagami-san."

"Hmph," Iori huffed.

"I take it you and Kusanagi-san received your invitations?"

"We did."

"He's there with you, I presume."

"Hey, Kagura-san!" Kyo waved, despite it not being a live video call. "Yeah, I'm here. Got mine today. We've already looked over the details."

"Any questions?"

"Who's the organizer?" It was, after all, the first detail he and Kyo noticed – the unknown seal imprinted in wax. "Do you know?"

"Nothing yet." Chizuru's voice was calm, collected as always for all the years Iori knew her. "I'll need further observation of all participants. At this time, they have not posted all the teams, yet. I do know, however, that the Orochi three are back."

"Which three?" Kyo asked before Iori could.

"Chris, Shermie, and Yashiro Nanakase. They've called themselves Team Orochi."

Iori felt his face contort with distaste. "Quite obvious."

"As are we."

"You just called us Sacred Treasures?" Again, Kyo beat him to the punch with the question, although Chizuru's statement already answered it.

"Might as well let them know we know."

"Like a hunting hound on prey."

"Yes, Yagami-san. Glad you see the point."

Yashiro Nanakase. A name Iori never wanted to hear again, nor see the bearer of it. Shoving his feelings about that aside, he refocused his attention elsewhere. "So the snakes are back and the organizer is a mystery. Anything else important?"

"Hotel room lodgings at the initial site. I'm going to room with one of my former colleagues. What about you and Kusanagi-san?"

"One room," Kyo said, no hesitation whatsoever.

"One bed." Better to make it clear right now, since it sounded like Kagura was arranging it for them. "All the amenities, too, since it's on their bill."

Beside him, Kyo snorted.

"Just don't make a mess." There was playfulness to Chizuru's usually serious tone; Iori guessed she wasn't talking about broken fixtures or fire and water damage. "I'll make sure you and Kusanagi-san get the mini-bar, too."

Kyo chuckled, his laughter warm.

"Oh, Kusanagi-san…did you get the replacement sponsor?"

"I did. Thank you."

"I'm happy for you. Since you're all set, we should hope for a less catastrophic year."

"Catastrophic and King of Fighters are inseparable," Iori said with a slight growl. "Especially since they're back."

"We'll try mitigating any possible ripple effects. Our focus should be Verse, though."

"Agreed."

"We'll see you there next month, Kagura-san," Kyo said, tone light and just shy of flippant. "Yagami and I will take care of travel details."

"Take care of yourselves, then. Might be best to train a bit, no?"

Iori guffawed at the sudden change in Kyo's expression. "We are behind on sparring. Next month, Kagura."

"See you then, Yagami-san. Kusanagi-san."

His phone screen showed call ended. Turning it off, Iori pocketed the device and the invitation card and went for another piece of fried chicken. He couldn't resist giving Kyo an amused smirk, for the pout hadn't left his lover's face. "You make it too easy for her."

"She doesn't go after you."

"I don't give her reasons to." He'd found out early on that giving Chizuru less hassle meant less headaches for everyone involved. "And she's right. We need to prepare."

"A month, Yagami. We have time."

"Until we don't." Finishing the carton of chicken, Iori rose to toss it into the trash. Kyo's gaze was as a mild burn on the periphery of his awareness. "I was going to ask…what was it again?"

"If I've been practicing?"

"No." He'd been about to ask Kyo about his…before Chizuru called. It tugged on his memory and he chased it, unwilling to drop the thread of thought. When it came, as bidden, he wondered how he forgot in the first place. "What are you wearing to the tournament this year?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"So it's another leather jacket, jeans, and a T-shirt?"

"You're just as bad as Kagura-san."

"So that's a 'yes', then."

"No, it's not." Kyo stood – beer can abandoned – and strode over to him. They were nearly of a height and Kyo's eyes were like lit amber. "Guess you'll just have to find out. Like me."

"With another wallet chain –"

"Oh hush." A soft brush of lips against his. "Enough about me."

"Don't think I quite anticipated your study going like this."

"I'm comfortable, you're warm, and I'm not moving." Kyo's head was pillowed against his shoulder, hair soft and messy. "'Sides, only you can read those. I'll just listen."

Their ankles were crossed together beneath the bedspread, their clothes were strewn all over the floor, and somehow, they'd taken Kyo's bag into the bedroom and left it on the chair. After an extended session of lovemaking and a brief nap, Iori had roused himself, cleaned up, and then turned his attention to the volumes. He started with the first one, curious about the Kusanagi clan's dealings in the early 1800s.

"What does that mean?"

Iori followed Kyo's finger to a complex set of kanji. "It's the official order to expel foreign ships from Japan. Gaikokusen Uchiharai Rei. Just a continuation of Japan's isolation policy." A quick glance at the year written in clean brushstrokes confirmed it. "Eighteen twenty-five."

"My ancestors were involved with this?"

"Didn't think the Kusanagi clan dealt with merchants. But Osaka was a mercantile city."

"What about your clan's records?"

"I'll need to check. Don't have those with me right now. But someone must've gone to Edo at least to bring back the latest news and rumors, and also some trade goods."

"Huh."

"Look here." This time, it was his finger Kyo's gaze followed, trailing down several columns of script written with that same immaculate brushwork. "Without foreign trade, some of your clan's resources ran short. They had to scramble to find new commercial connections."

"With who?"

"Certainly you recognize these characters."

Beside him, Kyo squinted, as if trying to decipher the brushstrokes. "China and…"

"The Dutch. Everyone else was barred."

"But why?"

"There was an incident before all this." He flipped the page, careful of the aged paper. "Before the black ships arrived, Japan maintained its closed door policy. It didn't affect my clan much, since we kept to ourselves but it did limit goods in the region. Sounds like your clan spent more time trying to make foreign connections."

Kyo's leg shifted against his, calf muscle solid. "Why?"

"Your clan's wealthy. Foreign connections promise power and money."

"So why didn't your clan care?"

"We already had power and money. There was only one purpose."

"Destroying the Kusanagi clan."

"Yes." It would've been awkward discussing this in the past but they were beyond dodging this now. "We left you to your games with the foreign powers, while we focused on becoming better than you."

"But your clan failed in its goal."

"Thankfully."

"Remember that clan meeting I mentioned?" There was a change in Kyo's voice, directing Iori's attention away from the book. "It was about finances. It went kinda long and I got bored, and…don't look at me like that." A minor pause. "Anyway, the head elder noticed and pounced on me. Asked if I was contributing my share to the clan."

"What'd you say?"

"Didn't know what to say. He blindsided me."

"You weren't paying attention." Not surprising and yet, still somewhat disappointing. "So what happened?"

"He forced me to mention your name, tied it in with my finances, and then insulted both of us at once."

"What?"

"I'm not repeating it. Anyway, my dad stepped in, made him apologize, and now I need to see how much I have 'cause Dad needs to know." Kyo sighed and snuggled closer to him. "Dad's gonna make sure my percentage is fair. He's also starting to teach me how to steer a conversation and win an argument."

"This elder is that formidable?"

"He is."

The facing pages listed a few names – none that Iori knew and he doubted Kyo recognized them – along with some notable titles (the Kusanagi used to hold several ranks?) and a detailed account of how those were conferred. While his interest in how the Kusanagi managed to capture the attention of the shogunate was strong, Kyo's current dilemma (was it?) proved more arresting. "So you have an opponent."

"For now. Need to turn him into an ally."

"Your old man's instructing you?"

"Yeah."

"You'll be fine, then."

Silence between one breath and the next. "He defended you, you know."

"Against the head elder?"

"Yeah. You should've seen it." Kyo, exhilarated with pride, extended his hand and closed it around his fingers. "Shut him up good. And if he ever does that again, well…I'd like to do the same."

"Then you better learn fast."

"Oh, I will."

Iori dipped his head, red hair casting soft shadows around their joined hands. The Kusanagi chronicle beneath, pages telling of bestowed court ranks during the Tokugawa shogunate. There was still much to study – much to read, so that Kyo could learn – but now, he wished to leave this mood undisturbed.

"Yagami?"

"Huh?"

Kyo's voice like a silken thread, turning his head towards those warm eyes. "Come here."