Mea Culpa

Summary: Ban is dead sure he doesn't know why everyone likes Kazuki. But that's until Kazuki starts to drive him mad, obliviously. On-going. KazukiXBan.

Disclaimer: I don't own Get Backers. I only hope I own Shido's heart.

One line is borrowed from F. Madox Ford.

A/N: before we kick things off, allow me to say that the names' spellings may or may not coincide with yours. I'm not sure why, but my downloads seem to have made a point of messing with the spellings in each episode; sometimes Kazuki is Katsuki, Mido is Midou, Jubei is Juubei et cetera, et cetera. I don't really know which among these are official which is why I'm going to use the easiest ones. Hence. In any case, I hope my misspellings and whatnot don't confuse you.

And oh, before positive preconceptions take the better of you, this fic's plot is just nonexistent. I think I have to explain that my creativity is, say, sub-par and that I'm just writing because my major occasionally requires me to rehearse my wordplay. So take this as a semblance of warning. As always, I'm being my normal self; not having the remotest notion what a plot is.

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Chapter I

He swings inside Honky Tonk with no other special intention than to say hi to his old friend Ginji and perhaps, to help himself with a warm cup of coffee to jumpstart an any-weather day. He has generated the habit of doing this, sometimes just varying in time in a matter of minutes, sometimes alternating the days and even getting delayed too long; at any rate, he comes and the Honky Tonk people can count on seeing his smile sooner or later.

'Good morning,' He will say and flash his signature feminine smile, the smile that doesn't scream much of anything beyond wishing everyone a good day but is nevertheless loved by all and sundry. He will have a nice exchange or two with Ginji, say his goodbye later and glide off the scene, taking with him a certain radiant air that he has always wrapped around himself like an invisible sweet odor. Little does he know that every time he cuts himself away from the place, more sighs are drawn than ever before. Those disappointed exhalations appear to have become a protocol within the four corners of Honky Tonk; it would be quite a surprise if no 'I wish you'd stay a little longer' was said to him. They have begun to take pleasure in his sight, in his breathtaking beauty that seems to reduce the dampness inside the otherwise gleeful café; and yes, it will be such a good idea to have him around for an hour more. But 'an hour more' seems so short a period it never really suffices anyone's wish. It passes by indefinitely and unmarked as always and before anyone acknowledges it, it's time for Kazuki Fuchoin to say goodbye. No one knows for certain whether or not it's his intention to leave the place more elevated than when he found it. As far as everyone's concerned, he will walk out the door seemingly clueless of the fact that he's leaving admiring stares behind.

'He's gone, I can breathe comfortably now.' Mido Ban mutters on a sunny morning. He's plopped himself on the usual spot he and Ginji occupy and is currently assuming that typical flippant expression that borders on sleepiness and ignored hunger. He hasn't bitten anything in 8 hours but looks quite alright; anyway the difference between not eating in 8 hours and 3 days doesn't show in him. He is so good at containing himself like that nobody even bothers to find out how miserably starved his intestines are. 'Thank god.'

No sooner than it gets said than the group's attention whirls into focus. All eyes are now fixed on Ban as he rolls his pupils behind his honest-to-God purple sunshades. Needless to say, their enormous disbelief has just been cinched by that godawful 'thank god.' Their slackened-jaw amusement already pretty much speaks for it, let alone the large-eyes silence.

'Ano…Ban-san, that isn't a nice thing to say. We always enjoy having him around.' Natsumi pipes up in her naïve school girl voice. She's always taking meticulous care not to run in disagreement with someone, which easily complements the fact of her sheltered existence; at least until she got tangled up in a pleasant mess with Ginji and Ban. She is in the process of wiping a table clean when she gets stilled by Ban's bold but calm words. This rarely happens as she always does her chores quite efficiently; apparently, only outlandish things like Ban's 'thank god' will make her stop in her tracks.

'Whatever. He's a bugger.' Ban replies in a matter-of-fact tone, which all the more extracts surprised glances from the company. It's as if he just uttered a taboo that requires the severest corporal punishment. How he hates to be at the receiving end of this kind of look and yet, it doesn't even occur to him to conjure up second thoughts. True, up to this point he refuses to play-act encomiast to Kazuki Fuchoin; he just can't, never can, make his frame of mind follow the same pathway which leads to admiring Kazuki with watery eyes and all that.

'Ban-chan, I didn't know you dislike Kazuki.' Ginji says with a sorry-assed smile while nursing his currently hollow stomach with caresses. He, too, is tied around the thought that the likelihood of anyone NOT liking Kazuki is calculated between any negative digit and zero. Hearing Ban say those words though doesn't amount to much disturbance in him. He may not have liked what his best friend just said but that doesn't do anything to minus his still-your-number-one-fan/hero-worship affection for Ban. Plus, he knows better than to contend when the other's equipped with a flimsy temper.

'Dislike is a strong word.' Ban begins to feel pissed off huge time. It's a pity these people can't pretend to own intelligence to save their lives; perhaps he needs to lend some to them. 'I'd rather take 'unimpressed'.'

Once again, this philosophical-sounding line from Mido Ban perks up the group's collective ears and cause them to swap curious stares. To say that they're interested in hearing Ban's say is an understatement. Hell, they're all noses and ears to it now. More than anything at that moment, they want to get behind Ban's abrupt and seemingly unreasonable disposition towards Kazuki. Surely, he can't dismiss the subject just like that? If he can help it, why not make his vague words mean something that'll cater to the Ginji type, i.e. underfed, brains?

'Why—'

'Shouldn't we be hunting for a client, Ginji?' Ban cuts him short with an annoyed jut.

'But Ban-chan, isn't today rest day?'

It transpires to Ban that today is the first day of their ever so awaited 2-day day-off. Beyond this and tomorrow is another endless period of money-chasing and wacky odd jobs that cause them greater exhaustion than they ever have bargained for. It's only right to savor this day. Damn too right. Indeed. Much as Ban hates to admit it, Ginji overtakes him on this point. Ginji, he emphasizes, that thick-as-two-short-planks stereotypical blonde with nothing but toddler logic wheeling inside his tiny skull. Yeah, that's him. Finally, the former Thunder Emperor comes up with something that will later be seen as a proof of outsmarting the eternally reliable, untiringly clever Mido Ban. Hurrah! It's one notch up on his IQ count!

Sometimes Ban shocks himself for negating things that he's been looking forward to; this for instance. It has been on his mind, engraved therein, for a whole week that to forget it will be defining clear-cut impossible. Unless he contracted permanent aphasia, he can't be excused on any ground.

So rest day it is, he got it. Got it diamond clear as a matter of fact.

Ban isn't sure what it is that cancelled his train of thought in such a short notice. A couple of days back, he and Ginji were happily squabbling about said 2-day day-off and it did look as though they were never going to stop jumping up and down in their exclusive delight. They were both spring-loaded on taking a stride along the shores, sight-seeing, you know the kind. And suddenly here comes amnesia saying hello to him. He really can't tell why his consciousness would jump from full tank to empty. No, it's not like he hasn't forgotten things in large quantities in the past; he has. But not so exacting as this, because the non-issue of rest day is actually just an independent part of his profession and assuredly isn't something that will in any way amount to permutated domino effect. Simply put, it's just a day his career can easily do without.

Ban can only suspect that he and Ginji, the never-die Get backers, are just so short of cash and so long of bills as of the present that getting a task comes so naturally. Considering their unspeakable condition, being unimaginably broke, shouldn't they be doing double overtime? Or will he be breaking poor Amano Ginji's heart if he drags him away at this instant and force him to play rescue-a-treasure mission? Or have they auctioned themselves excessively enough to insane missions that they'll be over-working themselves again? They have, at least to Ban's estimation, even to the point of nearly whoring themselves to cheap ones. Just to earn a fucking yen.

Or…?

Ah. Information overload. He can't bear to think of it one more fucking second, you can tell it no-frill judging by his composure, or the obvious lack thereof. At that precise moment, he blanks out his mind altogether.

'Ban-chan, why don't we drive around the beach and check out swimsuits?' Swimsuits being a euphemism for girls in g-strings and barely-there tops.

'Put me down for the count. I'll just walk…somewhere.' Ban shakes his head. He uses that voice that sounds as though it were coming from a deep slumber. Lost in musing, more like. Unlike any other time prior to this, he doesn't feel too smart to be instructed. Usually, he just slurs over a request not in favor of his and does what he wills, being so locked in his ego and all. It's just so odd witnessing him like this. Yet, what's odder, what's far, far odder is the fact that he is in no appetite to watch girls in bikinis. For a moment, in his subconscious, Ginji sees in Ban a wolf that has suddenly lost interest in a slab of lamb chops and turns away without looking back. He's Mido Ban for fuck's sake; his eyes aren't so penetrating because of nothing. They're for fun, partly however, and Ban likes to have fun, right? Hell knows what makes him decline such offer of indulgence and more to the point, with grave one-liners.

'Are you running a fever or something?'

'I'm fine, Ginji.' Ban stretches up from his seat, suddenly sporting his usual stance; hands buried in his pockets and back slightly reclining. All dead set to go. 'You enjoy yourself.'

Swift as a blink, he has detached himself from the café. There at the far end of the street, his figure becomes smaller and smaller as his footsteps progress. None of them inside can name the moment in which he took to swoop off from his seat all the way to the door and out of sight. For all they know he's turned to smoke and his space is now cleanly vacated. Again, he's exhibited reflexology quite impeccably. He is so fast and subtle in his movements that no one bothers to express surprise, anymore.

'I wonder if he's alright. I think I'll go after him,' Ginji says, obviously without thinking twice. He has taken a huge leap towards the door when Paul speaks up.

'He's fine. He wants to be alone, Ginji. Let him.' Ginji halts dead as though a tangible something has just come to obstruct his way. But no; it's only Paul exercising command over him, bidding him avast. If it's Paul who says it, there's virtually no chance of pursuing the argument. Ginji doesn't know where this older guy's knack comes from; specifically he doesn't know whether he really has the talent to convince people his way or only has that which makes convincing seem his field. Whichever, Paul, to Ginji, is a good coaxer, who always gets the desired effect from the younger lad, take it or leave it. And he does it effortlessly. He is like the long-lost father to Ginji in the latter's post-Mugnejou days, always reading him through and through but never a harsh word from him. Trying to resist; Ginji might as well try to move a continent with a pair of forks. Hell, his words are gospel to him. In which case, "Forget it" is the most sensible thing to do.

Ginji emits a low groan then, slowly pads away from the exit and languidly assembles himself on the bar stool. Nothing of his best friend's behavior that morning tipped him off of something like this; in point of fact, it was at the furthermost of his head that he'd be spending the day-off sans Ban. Cheek propped up on palm, he mumbles, 'I still think something's gone on with Ban-chan.'

Darn right.

TBC

A/N: It's kinda uneventful, isn't it? I hate to agree with you there, truly. Well, this fic is already finished. I started it off as a one-shot but it sort of reached around 9,000 words so I decided to chop it in chapters. I'm going to update soon after I'm done revising the next parts; there are some sentences in them that still sound awkward to me. In any case, I'm NOT going to ransom the following uploads and demand reviews. I will update with or without reviews. Thank you for bearing with this.