Kurogane'd known it was time to give up on any hopes of falling asleep when a knock on the door of his childhood bedroom sent Biggs bolting from the bed to see what was up. He'd been well aware it was well past time to get up and around for the day, but that didn't mean he had any immediate plans to actually get his ass up and open the door to help the furball investigate. He was tired as hell, and his mood was shit.
Hiking out to his parents' house usually put him in a better mood when he got stressed out—but after the shit Fai had pulled, he'd basically tucked tail and ran home just so he didn't have to think about what the fuck had just happened.
Home home.
Not that shitty one-bedroom he'd had to rent when he'd gotten his job at the Tokyo PD that he'd taken Fai to after he'd pulled him over. Kurogane hadn't even stopped to grab anything for the long holiday weekend—wasn't ready to think about why he'd invited Fai inside in the first fucking place. He really didn't want to think about the fact that he'd agreed to meet the bastard after the new year to set shit straight once and for all. He sure as hell didn't need to watch Biggs obsessing over the bedding after listening to the confused whining that had started up as soon as Fai'd gotten out of the car and disappeared into the house, and they'd driven away.
Biggs had been somber the whole ride back to his parents' house—but thankfully perked up as soon as it was time to explore the house and see what had changed since the last time they'd been out a few days ago.
Getting away from Tokyo and back home with his family had helped his mood a lot at first—he'd hardly slept yet, sure. Still, the routine of getting up early to help with the dogs, taking his ma to run errands, carrying the shopping, and heading to the bar to watch the Taiho-Jutsu tournament reruns from earlier that day had him feeling almost fucking stable again.
The only real peace he'd gotten lately had been on days Kurogane lucked out with getting assigned afternoon shifts, and traffic was light enough on his way to and from his parent's house that he could swing the longer commute and still have get a decent nights sleep if he wanted too. He'd been opting to drink himself stupid with his old man most of those nights, sure—but the hour-plus commute gave him time to get his hangover under control before he had to do any real socialization. Might not be the healthiest routine, but it had been healthier than sitting in his fucking apartment thinking himself in circles over Fai.
That blond fucker hadn't even been able to make it 24 hours without contacting him again with a new line of bullshit that didn't even make fucking sense, and his mood went straight to shit again. Apparently, there was an emergency that couldn't wait—but not a big enough emergency that Fai could spit it out over the phone.
With how calm his voice was, Kurogane wasn't falling for it and was angry at himself for answering the phone at all—damn well knowing if he hadn't, the mental image of how broken and terrified Fai had been crying in his living room, talking about how safe the cop made him feel, would have had him worry himself sick over something actually being fucking wrong. Instead, answering the call left him pissed the fuck off while trying to explain the who, what and why of the sudden 180 in his mood.
The emotional mind fuck of how the hell was the sweet blond that lived with his parents and wooed both Kurogane and his dog the same monster in those reports going round and round in his had again like a god damn hamster wheel, and he hadn't slept a wink even though Fai shouldn't fucking matter this much—he shouldn't have that kind of sway—Kurogane shouldn't care.
Tonight was his second night with damn near no sleep because of that rat bastard and he was sour about it.
The doorknob turned slowly, and the door clicked as it was pulled open just far enough for Biggs to stick a paw in the gap—a low familiar chuckle sounded, and Kurogane didn't need to roll over and look to know it was his dad.
"Excuse me, Sir—last I knew, furballs kept their pushy little paws off my nice wood doors." His pops yawned just as Kurogane rolled over onto his back so he could watch the exchange—more interested in figuring out where his blanket had gone than watching Biggs back up and thunk his furry ass down onto the ground with a loud thump so the door could be opened.
Two birds with one stone, though—his pooch had pulled the covers right off the bed with him as he'd hopped down, and they were hanging off him like a lopsided cape—which was pretty friggin cute even if Kurogane was covered in goosebumps at the sudden temperature change.
He might not have slept worth shit last night, sure—didn't mean he hadn't been comfortable tucked up under the heavy blanket. As if getting trampled by the heavy dog on his way out of bed wasn't enough—he'd pulled the entire blanket with him as he went, and Kurogane knew by the pitying look his old man shot him as the older man leaned against the door that he likely looked as shitty as he felt.
"If Shiva knew Biggs got to sleep in bed and under the covers, she'd probably go on strike, you know—" yawning again and stretching his arms above his head, the older man addressed the dog while nodding slowly. Biggs tilted his head slightly right when he heard his name, and the rest went right over the dog's head. "You must have been a very good boy for him not to make you sleep in the cold hard dog bed all by yourself, hm?"
Kurogane rolled his eyes and let out his own yawn as he pushed himself into a sitting position—Biggs knew what good boy meant—and his head had tilted back the other way, and his curled tail started to swish its way free from the blanket he was still sitting on.
The 'cold hard dog bed' was made out of high-quality memory foam and was at least as thick as the human bed it sat next to—said bed had not one—but two large blankets thrown on top of the plush protective cover. Damn thing cost more than the mattress the cop had back in Tokyo—and there were two identical beds back at the apartment, as well.
Biggs was spoiled, all right—not because Kurogane'd let him sleep under the covers with him, though. Usually, the overgrown furball preferred his dog bed over Kurogane's bed or the oversized sectional couch unless Fai was over—and Kurogane had more dog bedding than human bedding at this point. Mainly to make laundry easy—with a thick double coat and working rain or shine outdoors—keeping his entire apartment from smelling like a wet dog took some serious work.
Mentioning that Biggs got to sleep in Kurogane's bed wasn't what had annoyed him, though—thankfully, his old man didn't seem fazed by his son's cranky attitude and just quirked a brow in query.
Kurogane was well aware his pops didn't mean anything by pointing out that Biggs had always preferred his bed over Kurogane's—Especially because his old man had the opposite problem with Shiva. She acted like making her sleep in her own bed was animal abuse, and she was all puppy dog eyes and big sighs any time she got booted from bed.
Had nothing to do with his father at all, actually.
Kurogane felt guilty.
And that made him angry.
Because why the fuck should that make him feel guilty? Why did he wish no one saw that Biggs had beggared his way not only into his handler's bed—but under the covers—and spent the entire night curled up against Kurogane's chest?
To find the logic in that, you had to go so far down the fucking rabbit hole you were just pissed the fuck off that there could even be this many things to fucking think about. Of course, Kurogane could say it wasn't that deep all he wanted—but if that were the case, he probably wouldn't be running on no sleep and feeling this fucking miserable.
The younger man shook his head back and forth and scrubbed both his hands over his face in hopes that his eyes would feel a little less tired and his mindless all over the fucking place. He was so done with all these fucking feelings that didn't make sense about shit that shouldn't even matter.
No one cared that his pooch went cuddle bug out of the blue on him—and he of all people should be indifferent about it. Likewise, not a damn person on the planet cared if Biggs had noticed Kurogane'd been upset and had decided to stick close to him to make sure he was ok—and no one gave a fuck if Biggs had just finally been spoiled enough by Fai's doting that he'd taken a liking to nighttime cuddles.
That he himself was wasting energy thinking about it was obnoxious—and the fact that Kurogane both didn't want to own up to how fucking upset he'd actually been since Fai had crash-landed on his doorstep soaked, shaking, and bloody, pulling on every protective instinct in his entire being—and that he had been both overjoyed and jealous seeing HIS dog—that he'd poured his own blood, sweat, and tears into earning every scrap of trust Biggs could afford—fall head over heels in love with Fai just like he had—left Kurogane so fucking mad he could hardly stand it. Biggs didn't freely offer that kind of trust to just anybody—Fai didn't even realize how big of a deal it was that Biggs had attached to him like he had…
So yeah—he felt fucking guilty—for being stuck on Fai when he knew he was a fucking monster in disguise—for being jealous that Biggs had freely forked over trust to someone like Fai—and for not choosing better people to have in his life so Biggs could keep whomever it was he decided was worthy of trust in his life. He never wanted to take something Biggs loved away from him—and wouldn't have to if he hadn't ignored the mountain of red flags.
There wasn't a damn thing he could do about it but say his peace and move the fuck on at this point—Fai would be gone from their lives forever, and Biggs would go back to sleeping on the dog bed, or he wouldn't.
It was what it was.
Wasn't like he could delete Blondie from his pooch's memory—and if Fai had shown him that affection and cuddles from humans were enjoyable, then Kurogane would let him sleep in his damn bed. Even after years of training, Biggs was still so human selective he was downright dangerous for most people to be in a room alone with—any bit of progress when it came to his handleability was only a good thing.
His own old man seeing Biggs make that progress and actively seek affection from the people he trusted would usually make Kurogane proud as hell—but Kurogane hadn't been the one to help him make that progress—the cop-killing drug lord had without even fucking trying—and now Kurogane had to take that person away from his pup, and that sucked.
It all just fucking sucked, and he was so god damn sick of the situation.
When Kurogane didn't offer up any explanation as to the shitty attitude, his dad yawned one last time before leaning down to snag the blanket from underneath Biggs—and rather than moving his furry ass to make it any easier to yank the fabric out from underneath all one hundred pounds of him—the Shepard mix 'helped' by walking on the blanket the entire time it was pulled back towards the bed.
His old man found it more funny than annoying and playfully scolded the dog as he gathered up the folds of fabric before tossing them onto his son—hitting him right in the face with the bulk of the blanket.
Kurogane's annoyed grunt was brushed off as the blanket fell into his lap—and his pops sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress to call the dog up onto the bed as well. "You should go back to bed, kid—you look like you're ready for your own funeral."
He hadn't gotten a chance to look in the mirror—but he'd barely slept in the last two days. Staying in bed wasn't going to remedy that—he was too worked up to sleep. Was past ready to throw himself into the day and get his mind off Blondie and his fucking antics.
Kurogane shook his head back and forth and glanced at the clock on the bedside table—it was just past 6—and the perfect time to run the dogs before the trails filled up with the usual Sunday hiking crowd.
"Your ma and I will keep Biggs busy for a few hours—I can tell you didn't get any sleep—looks like you got two big ugly shiners. You want people to think you got your ass kicked?"
The little bit of worry that laced his father's tone was frustrating—his pops didn't often worry—and when he did, it was damn near impossible to tell.
Not only was Fai fucking Kurogane up emotionally—but now Kurogane's dad was worrying about him because of it.
"Fuck you too, old man—" Kurogane nudged his dad's arm with a loose fist as he yawned again. "What'cha want me to do? Raid mom's makeup so I'm less ugly?"
That earned him a grin—he watched some of the tension leave the older man's body as he laughed low and deep. "No—I want you to get your beauty sleep so you can grow up to be a big and strong boy."
"I'll skip it today—I already smack my head on normal doorways." Hell—they both did. He might be a bit taller than his old man, but they both towered over your average person in Japan. "Is there coffee yet?"
"Coffee, he says—" With a huff, his father got to his feet and offered his hand out, palm side up. "—no one can say you're not mine."
"Not like anyone could tell just by looking at us." Kurogane accepted the hand even though he didn't need any help getting up—and he held still as his pops tousled his hair roughly—then stepped around him to head over to his closet to find something comfortable to wear.
"People might start mistaking you for my brother if you don't stop running yourself into the ground, though, kid." Kurogane snorted. People had been mistaking them for brothers since Kurogane had matched him in height.
"Yeah yeah. I get it. Drop it." Frowning at the few shirts he had hanging up—Kurogane silently cursed himself for not grabbing more clothes before heading home. He'd bulked up a lot since moving to Tokyo—working out was really his only hobby these days, and there was no way he'd get his big shoulders into any of the shirts he'd left behind when he'd moved to the city, not even half a year ago.
The dresser was his next stop—snagging his bag off the top, he rummaged around for one of his uniform undershirts and pulled the wifebeater over his head. He'd do laundry when he got back from running the dogs—and maybe even spend a few bucks on some new shirts if he could find any that fit at a halfway affordable price.
He made shit money as a second-year officer—even with the special responsibilities they'd pinned on him—rent in the city wasn't cheap even in the shit neighborhood he'd found a pet-friendly building in.
Kurogane knew he should be pinching pennies—but there was no way in hell he was heading back to that fucking apartment until he absolutely had to.
Up until Fai had crash-landed into his life, Kurogane had been busting his ass to get a promotion up to Senior Police Officer—both because it came with a sizeable raise and because he wanted to make his old man proud. This last month, he'd been applying to anything he could find that would get him out of Tokyo after the raid on Akai Heya—and he couldn't give a shit about how much of a pay cut he'd have to take to get out.
Relocating wasn't cheap when you had to pay to break a lease—and he wasn't sticking around another six months to avoid paying out the ass after everything that had happened.
Kurogane hadn't had to do much digging to uncover how profound Fai's influence ran in the city—the senior officers had made it clear that Blondie had contacts at damn near every level of local law enforcement—from rookie cops fresh from the academy all the way up to the big wigs that decided department policy.
Hell—considering that two drug mules with connections to Fai's group just had charges dropped after getting caught with a metric shitload of coke in the trunk of their car—Fai probably had relationships with judges and city officials.
It was fucked.
Kurogane didn't want anything to do with it.
"You'll never get too big, too grumpy, or too old for me to worry about you, kid. Same goes for your ma—I'll drop it, but you know she's going to be up your ass about resting until you look halfway human again." The older man had wandered over to the door and was back to leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest—blocking Biggs in the room with his big body.
Kurogane was well aware—nothing he could do about it now—he'd keep busy till tonight and surely be tired enough to sleep at the end of it. "You want me to run Shiva or you gonna keep up with me this time?"
Just getting the fuck outta bed already had him feeling less shitty.
"Don't get cocky, brat—which one of us got a full 8 hours?" The subject change was accepted with a smirk, which only pushed the shit mood further from his mind. As soon as the older man moved out of the way, Biggs bolted past him and trotted up the hall to wait by the door.
He'd leave his phone off the rest of the day—might not even turn it back on till after the holiday was over just so he didn't have to deal with any more surprise contact from Fai sending him into a new round of brooding.
"We're doing a half marathon—no bitching out halfway through this time, got it?" They both followed in the same direction—finding Biggs waiting by the back door in the kitchen as expected.
"Same goes for you, zombie boy—worry about yourself—I could do the full marathon." His father chuckled as they entered the room—not because he was laughing at his own shitty joke—because the look Kurogane's mother gave him wasn't a good one—and he hadn't been exaggerating about how much she nagged her kids about prioritizing their health.
He looked shitty—but he sure as fuck wasn't sick.
"No one's running any marathons looking like that—what did you do to our son?" Kurogane stopped dead in his tracks and held still as his mom skittered across the room and reached up to cup both of his cheeks and gently pulled him down for a better look.
His pops continued on and let Biggs out to do his business and did his best to look halfway serious as he answered. "Wasn't me, darling—I know better—I said two beers and it was only two beers!" Closing the door again, he made a beeline for the coffee pot and brought two mugs of coffee back to the table before settling down.
"You don't feel feverish… Are you sick, sweetie?" Kurogane leaned back up and out of her reach as he shook his head back and forth.
"'m fine. Didn't sleep much—but I'll get caught up before I go back to work. Don't feel sick at all." Given the way her eyes narrowed the slightest bit—he knew his ma wasn't buying that. Wasn't a lie. Kurogane was healthy as a horse—just moody as fuck and stressed to hell.
She didn't argue as he stepped around her and settled at his usual spot at the table, though. "Why didn't you sleep? Is something wrong?"
No way in hell he would get into what was going on with work or with Fai. If she were worried now—she'd probably keel over at the sheer amount of fucked up shit Kurogane had managed to wander into via his unfortunate tinder match.
"Leave the boy be, dear. That pretty blond has him so twisted up and confused he couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag. He'll be alright—and he'll let us know if he's not. Right?"
Kurogane sipped his coffee and shot his old man a glare that was nothing short of a warning.
It wasn't a lie—but he wasn't ready for a family discussion about it. He hadn't talked to his mom about what had happened with Fai yet—hadn't really told his old man about it other than the basics. Not what he had found out about Fai D. Fluorite—just that the pretty blond that Biggs liked had ghosted him and randomly shown back up blackout drunk crying about a bad dream only to panic about the anniversary of his twin's death when he woke up the next day.
This was just his first big heartbreak as far as they were concerned. He'd been at the bar filling his pops in on the previous night when Fai had called him with his newest line of bullshit. He'd fill them in on the criminal shit after he'd gotten a job far away from Tokyo.
"Can we talk about literally anything else?" His mother and father exchanged one of those looks that you knew was the equivalent of an entire conversation, and he leaned his cheek on his palm and forced himself to relax his jaw from the defensive frown that wasn't helping his case. "—'m ok. Just didn't sleep good."
"Let the kid run out his energy—he'll sleep like the dead tonight, I'm sure." His dad got up to usher his wife to the table, and they both silently watched as he fixed her a cup of coffee with milk and sugar just how she liked.
Just like that—Kurogane could almost pretend like things were completely normal as he listened to his parents quietly talk about the day's plans between playful banter and teasing—him no longer the center of attention.
He couldn't have asked for better parents—and there wasn't any place he'd rather go to get away from his problems. They may only be a bit more than an hour away from the stress and danger of the city—but it felt like they weren't even in the same country anymore, given how peaceful it was.
Kurogane knew that once the new year's rolled around, it'd be time to meet Fai and settle things once and for all—that he'd have to go back to work and keep his mouth shut about the corruption that had allowed a drug ring to thrive right under the TPD's nose… and he'd have to deal with trying to get a new job—probably moving further away from his family…
Right now, he could just focus on enjoying the holiday weekend with his family. He would be dammed if he let Fai fuck that up for him. He'd fucked up enough—Kurogane wasn't giving the bastard another inch.
They had a simple breakfast of rice and miso before getting the dogs geared up and loaded into the family van to head out to their favorite hiking trail by the Tateishi park back behind Lake Suwa. He and his pops were police officers, but the family business was a kennel specializing in breeding working dogs for security, police, and military jobs.
His mom had been running her kennel way before she'd even met his old man—let alone had three kids with him—and their entire household functioned around the care of the dogs in their care. At max capacity, they had up to 30 dogs in their care—not only their personal K9's, but the dogs in their breeding program, clients' dogs in for additional training or foundations in personal protection, and a few pooches from past litters here for boarding over the holiday.
Just cleaning kennels and taking care of daily feedings was a full-time job—and everyone pitched in to make sure that every dog got out, exercised, and met their training goals for the day.
Kurogane preferred working the dogs to cleaning kennels and dog runs—and while he didn't have his mom's decades of experience when it came to training—he'd been helping her as a licensed trainer since he'd been old enough to do so legally. He was more than capable of handling the bulk of training when he was home with a bit of supervision from time to time.
His parents were happy to focus on deep cleaning and holiday preparations while he did so—and he quietly finished his coffee as they figured out who was going to do what today—nodding in agreement to the mountain of tasks that ended up on his to-do list—he wouldn't have time to think about shit today and that was exactly what he'd wanted.
Like most days—they'd start with running the higher energy dogs that wouldn't be getting much, if any, one on one training time today. But, they weren't anywhere near max capacity—hadn't been in years—and they only ended up with four dogs in the van as they set off.
Biggs always went—Shiva too—and Kurogane brought the two pups he'd taken to Tokyo that had come back with him for boarding over the holidays. Should be a stress-free run—just needed to work them up to a good pace that was challenging enough to free Biggs of his crackhead energy—but not too challenging for the less conditioned dogs.
Shiva was the oldest of the 4—and got the least amount of work currently. She'd taken close to a year off of active duty after tearing her ACL—and she'd only been back full time for a few months. She was still building her endurance back up to where it had been before her injury—they'd likely base the actual distance off what she could comfortably handle.
They all knew she was coming up on retirement age quickly, but for now, she still loved going to work every day—and they were happy to let her keep working until it negatively impacted her quality of life. If that meant they ran a little slower or took extra brakes, so be it.
Kurogane's Tokyo trainees were both under a year old and still growing—He made sure they were getting a good workout five days a week, but they had never done a half marathon—it'd be their goal—if they didn't make it today they'd try again in a few days after their joints had had a nice good rest.
They got a move on, and for the next 2 hours, Kurogane didn't have to think about anything. Not about work—not about Fai—not about what he was or wasn't going to do about either of those problems.
Most mornings when he and his old man would run one of the trails together, they'd have easy conversation going on between them. Today his pops seemed to get the picture Kurogane needed the uninterrupted quiet—and even on the drive back to the house, they just quietly enjoyed each other's company.
The peace lasted until they got back to the house—it lasted until Biggs hopped out of his kennel in the back of the van and decided he was done behaving and damn near pulled Kurogane off his feet trying to bolt towards the door.
While the hand that thankfully had a good grip on the leash stung like a bitch—this wasn't the first time he'd pulled that stunt. He did it when they were working damn near every time he got outta the car on a call—but it had been a while since Kurogane had had to worry about that high drive energy exploding while unloading from a vehicle beside his cruiser.
Wouldn't be the weirdest thing Biggs had done—but Kurogane should have known something wasn't right when he popped right back up out of his down-stay as soon as his handler turned his back. He thankfully had had the sense to switch him from the 12 ft long line and running harness to his flat collar and a 4ft leash—but Kurogane barely kept a hold of the leash as he launched forward again.
Biggs might only be five years old and still young enough to expect bullheaded shenanigans from—it had been at least two years since the last time he'd been this dead set on ignoring everything Kurogane asked him to do in favor of getting at whatever he wanted.
Dog's like Biggs never really finished training, there were always skills to brush up on and new scenarios to reinforce them in—and Kurogane was an experienced enough handler to at least try and make this a training moment.
Usually, Biggs corrected quick and worked with Kurogane out of frustration to get what he wanted faster, if for no other reason. Today his handler couldn't even get 5 seconds of solid attention, let alone basic leash manners out of the jackass. Biggs refused to load back up in the van—refused to hold a down-stay for more than half a minute, and had taken to redirecting onto the leather leash and would chew threw it given half a chance.
Kurogane had to accept that he'd pushed Biggs so far over threshold trying to get him under control that he was either going to break the hand he had the leash wrapped around, his pup was going to hurt himself while throwing his weight against the leash, or he'd chew threw the leash and get at whatever he wanted—and that meant bolting across the street and possibly getting hit by a car.
He'd get 'em inside, take him back to the kennels, and get him calm before coming back up front to see what he was losing his mind over before anyone got hurt. In the half-hour he'd been fighting the furball, they had yet to figure out what the fuck had gotten him so worked up in the first place.
"You're being a fucking asshole." Kurogane huffed and ignored the chuckle his old man let out behind him—three large, perfectly behaved dogs laying at his feet, watching the whole fiasco unfold. "Let's get him in, calmed down, and bring him back out and try again. He's hardly hearing me at this point."
"He was hardly hearing you from the get-go, kid." His dad closed the back of the van and hit the fob to lock things up while Kurogane wrestled Biggs back towards him and grabbed hold of the handle on his harness so he'd have as much control over him as possible as they crossed the street and headed towards the house.
"Someone obviously pissed in his cheerios—" Kurogane scanned across the street one last time, looking for any reason at all Biggs might be acting up like this and saw a whole lotta nothing. "You ok with all three of them?"
"I would'a put one back in the van and made two trips if I wasn't—'sides—your hands are too full to help, either way." His pops winked at him, and Kurogane tried to shrug in response—but Biggs had impeccable timing, and his shoulder ached in protest as he leaned back to get all four of his boy's paws back on the floor.
Taking a deep breath, he held firm and used his free hand to put pressure on the shepherd mix's hind end and paired it with a verbal command to sit—as soon as his ass graced the concrete, he marked the behavior with quick 'yes' and Biggs sprung right back up as his handler took a step towards the edge of the sidewalk.
Thank god they had a nice opening to get across the street and didn't have to wait for any cars to pass to get on the right side of the road. The closer they got to the front door, the more confused they both got about what the fuck the fuss was about because Biggs didn't seem to want anything but to get inside as quickly as possible.
They were downright shocked when Biggs knocked off the pulling, whining, chuffing, and high pitched barking as soon as they got through the front door—and Kurogane would kick his own ass if he could for not being suspicious over the sudden behavior change. He didn't notice the extra pair of shoes by the door—and he definitely couldn't make out what his mom called out to them from deep inside the house.
Huge mistake.
Kurogane had swapped the harness handle for holding onto the leash so he could pull the laces of his shoes loose. As tight of a hold as he'd had on that leash—he wasn't braced or ready for Biggs to throw himself forward with everything he had. Not only did he fall hard—he didn't even have time to throw a hand out to catch himself.
He didn't know what was louder—the loud FUCK he let loose at the sheer surprise of getting ripped forward with that much force—the sound of his face smacking into the ground—His dad's F-bomb at watching his adult 6'10", 280lb son faceplant with all the grace of a drunk toddler—or the loud "Biggs, NO!" from his mom in the other room right before something hit the floor like a sack of flour.
Kurogane knew which one caused the adrenalin dump that allowed him to completely ignore the pain of breaking his nose on the hardwood, though—the same one that caused he and his dad to book it in the direction Biggs just tore off in without even pausing to stop the gushing from his nose or even take their shoes off.
Kurogane had never heard his mother sound so terrified, and he could go the rest of his life without ever hearing that kind of fear saturate her voice again.
After a shout like that—the last thing Kurogane was expecting to hear was a chorus of familiar giggles; they hit the entryway to the living room ready to pull Biggs off of god only knew what.
It took several seconds for his mind to catch up with his body. Kurogane was next to his mom and looking her over for injuries before it even dawned on him that Fai— the fucking drug lord —was absolutely NOT supposed to be in the living room of his childhood home hanging out with his mother when he wasn't here.
Fai hadn't even noticed them enter the room yet, and the few seconds it took for the idiot to make eye contact with Kurogane was enough time for blind fucking rage to boil up in the cop.
Kurogane wasn't sure he'd ever been so fucking mad before.
It was the kind of anger that made it seem like time was moving in slow motion while simultaneously making his thoughts race at what might as well be light speed as he connected dot after dot.
Biggs had a hell of a nose, and it made sense that the excitement had been over Fai waiting inside… It also made sense his pooch had chilled just long enough to sniff blondies shoes before bolting to go find him—His mom had no way of knowing Biggs was coming in for a love attack and not to rip Fai's throat out… made sense why she'd shouted at the dog like he was about to eat a baby—which only left one question.
How the fuck did Fai know where to find him? How the fuck did Fai have enough influence on Biggs to get him to misbehave like that? He hadn't been over threshold. The furball had been so overexcited he couldn't even listen to simple commands. Why the FUCK had he been chilling with his mom in Kurogane's family home?
Whatever kind of threat this was supposed to be, Kurogane didn't care—all he saw was red as the bloody gruesome images of the dozens of murders that had been ordered or personally carried out by Fai D. Flourite in the police reports he must have read a few hundred times by now flashed by.
When Fai had called him demanding to talk last night, Kurogane had made it blatantly obvious that he was not playing this fucking game anymore—and the moron had not only shown up anyways—he'd somehow hunted down his parents' address to do it.
That wasn't ok.
There was nothing that was going to make this ok.
Kurogane closed the distance between himself and Fai in a few long strides. The dog got hoisted up and off the blond by a firm pull on his harness and was told to lay down. Biggs knew when Kurogane meant business, and his belly hit the floor while his tail continued swaying back and forth slowly—watching the two of them with a kind of uncertainty that Kurogane had never seen from him before.
His legs were tucked up under him—ready to bounce back onto his paws—and he'd zeroed in on Kurogane with the kind of single-minded focus he'd just spent a half-hour trying to get.
—If that wasn't his sign to check his anger before he really fucked up—
Biggs was thinking real hard about if he was going to let Kurogane do what he'd been planning to do next.
Which was like a slap in the fucking face.
He definitely didn't need Biggs trying to get between him and Blondie right now—not that he didn't feel a little proud that his boy knew when his handler was the one out of line—but that wasn't something he wanted to deal with.
Ever.
Fuck, he didn't even want to think too hard about it.
When he'd decided to take Biggs with him to Tokyo, it had been a gamble—Biggs had always been a wild card, and it had taken a lot of work to build the kind of trust needed for Biggs to follow his lead more often than not. Some days he was still prone to making bad decisions—but he'd come a hell of a way from the military reject that would rather rip a handler's throat out than load up in a car or even walk at heel.
Even with the hell of a fit the asshole had thrown today—It was a night and day difference to the damn near feral dog he'd flown almost 20 hours one way to pick up before he got a bullet in the head for mauling his handler. Fury fucker was lucky the kennel master at the military base honored the clause in the purchases contract that dictated the animal be returned to the breeding kennel before being re-sold or euthanized for any reason.
Back then, Biggs hadn't had a name—he'd had a number—and the last time Kurogane had seen him, he hadn't even had that much. His mom didn't name the puppies—they each got a colored collar the day they were born to make it easy, and Biggs had been known to them as the red male when they'd gotten in touch with the prospective buyers on their mile-long waiting list.
The last time they'd seen him, he'd been an eight-week-old puppy and one of three from his litter to be hand-selected by the kennel master to enter their training program. This wasn't the first time they'd worked with this particular kennel—they'd been a client of the Suwa family for over two decades and his mother had asked Kurogane to see if the dog was really as fucked in the head as they said—and decide if he was worth bringing him home at all.
None of them actually expected Kurogane to return with Biggs. Going out there at all was more out of respect for the long-time client than anything else. The kennel master knew what the fuck he was doing, and if he deemed the dog totally untrainable… he probably knew what he was talking about. Dogs bred for dangerous jobs like police or military work were supposed to have a high enough drive and big enough attitude to hold their confidence in dangerous situations—but when they started taking entire fingers off the hand that fed them…
Something wasn't right.
His mom had hit a rough patch in her health, and his father was swamped with working at the department and taking care of his wife. Kurogane'd gotten permission from the police school to take the week off to assess the dog—and this was the first time he'd been trusted with such an important task by his parents.
As soon as he'd arrived, Kurogane had been taken straight to the kennels after dropping his bags off in his temporary accommodations. Not surprisingly, the 26-kennel facility would have been five-star accommodations for any pooch. The dogs that were left in the large 6x4 indoor pens looked healthy and happy hanging out in the air-conditioned building—and everything he saw was clean and well cared for.
Except for Biggs.
But he'd been warned about that before even being allowed to enter.
K9-13—referred to by the kennel number he was kept in—looked rough. Not just because he was starting to lose his puppy coat in toughs—or because the almost five months old pup had the fucked-up proportions of a growing dog with too big feet, too-long legs, and oversized ears, making him look a little like a deranged hyena.
Other than the fact that he was scaling the chain link that was used to construct the kennel walls in an attempt to get at Kurogane and the kennel master while he barked his head off—but his kennel was fucking filthy. Kurogane recognized the 'chew proof' raised bed that had had the industrial-strength canvas fabric shredded to ribbons and aluminum frame bent out of shape as the same ones they used at home. They were damn near indestructible, and he had to wonder how the dog hadn't broken every tooth out of his mouth, destroying it. The stainless-steel food and water dishes had been similarly chewed to hell and the concrete floor of the kennel was covered in shit, piss, and random pieces of kibble—all of which had been trampled over repeatedly and tracked around by the dog pacing in circles.
Letting any living creature live in that level of filth was absolutely unacceptable—Kurogane didn't need to tell the Kennel master that, though—the older man had already explained to him that they had to use a catchpole to get him safely in and out of the cage to clean it, and did so three times a day. Since they couldn't catch him again if they let him loose in one of the big outdoor dog runs—they moved him back and forth between two kennels and kept things as clean as possible, "which was no way to live" and "an embarrassment on the entire facility."
Kurogane couldn't argue with those statements.
It had taken him the entire week to decide if Biggs was coming home with him. If the pup had recognized him from the first eight weeks of his short 19-week existence, he sure didn't act like it. Wasn't like they'd been buddy-buddy before he'd been sold—but the jackass had minded him, his parents, and even his baby sister as well as could be expected for a puppy. At almost 5 months old, he was just a juvenile—a big—immature—sensitive juvenile that didn't like anyone or anything and was still learning how the world worked.
There was no love at first sight moment like with Biggs and Fai.
Biggs had been hell-bent on chewing holes in Kurogane to get his way even months after he'd been brought back to Tokyo—and that first week, Kurogane had almost thrown in the towel more than once. Ultimately hadn't been able to give up on the furry bastard, though, even after the week of absolute hell he'd been put through.
After being repeatedly bitten through and around the muzzle, Kurogane had needed to head to the medical building for stitches 3 out of 7 days. It was evident to him that Biggs would rather see him dead than walk next to him on a leash after just the first few hours of trying to get the bastard out of the cage and muzzled up. The little asshole didn't stop trying to wiggle out of the muzzle or chew through the leash—didn't listen to any correction to matter how harsh—didn't have the barest hints of food drive even though he was obviously underweight—didn't want to chase any of the toys around the yard—didn't even want to sniff the ground when Kurogane had forced him outdoors.
It seemed pretty damn hopeless as they rounded into the weekend with no real progress to show for the hours of training they'd mucked through. Kurogane honestly hadn't seen anything from Biggs that gave even the slightest indication he might be well suited for a different career in dog sports or even as a companion animal for an experienced owner. The deciding factor that tipped the scale in favor of returning to Tokyo had come an hour before Biggs had been scheduled to meet his maker—and it had been the first glimmer of hope that maybe they could learn to see eye to eye.
Kurogane had taken Biggs into one of the offices attached to the kennels to wait for the vet—had him muzzled up and double leashed just in case—and was going to eat his lunch and do some homework because he didn't know what the hell else he was supposed to do. Kurogane couldn't stand just waiting around for the poor bastard to be put out of his misery. Biggs had taken to his usual destructive neurotic behavior at first—but as they'd figured out—as long as no one was looking at him and the room was quiet enough—he'd eventually lay down and just watch your every move.
Long after he'd finished eating and was steadily catching up on his neglected school work—Kurogane saw the overgrown pup move out of the corner of his eye. Up until now, the little killer would lunge at your face if you walked towards him—and he'd refused to get anywhere near Kurogane unless he was trying to scare him off or couldn't run away. Even when he'd left the kennel door open and walked away, Biggs wouldn't budge an inch unless he thought that Kurogane had completely left the room.
He'd watched Biggs out of the corner of his eye as discreetly as possible as he sat down next to the table just out of his reach. He gave Biggs his full attention and barely managed to keep the smile tugging at the corners of his lips at bay as he watched the overgrown puppy sniff at the lid of the pizza box, lick his chops, give his handler the briefest bit of eye contact before sniffing in the general direction of the pizza again.
Usually, Kurogane would nip any sort of begging in the bud before it became a bad habit, but he wouldn't deny a death row dog a slice of pizza—and offering good behavior to earn a food reward would be a huge accomplishment. Turning his attention back to his schoolwork, he continued to keep an eye on Biggs out of the corner of his eye with a poorly concealed smile as he watched the gears start to turn behind those huge brown eyes.
Was he trying to decide if he could snag a piece of pizza and scarf it before his handler could do anything about it? Or was he offering up what he thought was good behavior to earn a slice of pizza? After a few minutes, Biggs decided the best course of action was to stretch his nose out to bump the lid of the pizza box to get Kurogane's attention again and when he got that, went back to sitting and staring—tongue darting out to lap at his lips.
So either Biggs hadn't figured out that he got what he wanted when he behaved yet—or hadn't thought the trade-off worth it… Either way, there had been jack shit that would motivate the bite happy bastard not to do what he wanted to do—which was to be left the fuck alone.
So putting the leash on wasn't worth not walking around in his own shit for hours—he'd rather be left the fuck alone…but a piece of pizza was worth sitting within 4ft of a human?
That he could work with.
Kurogane had grabbed a slice and pulled off one of the greasy pepperonis and tossed it on the floor a little ways away—Biggs managed to shove his tongue threw the cage muzzle and slurp it up—and that was the start of their 'I'll help you if you help me' relationship.
Instead of sending him over the rainbow bridge, they sedated the shit out of him to get him in the travel crate—and together, they went home to Tokyo. Turned out Biggs was less screws too loose in the noggin—and more wound up so tight he was constantly way over threshold and desperately trying to feel better. With guidance from his mom—Kurogane kept Biggs in his room at night rather than out in the kennels with the other dogs—and only after a full day of work— eventually, they figured out what kind of job would suit him best.
None of them thought it would be in the same setting that had fucked him up to begin with—but it'd never had anything to do with the job the military had been trying to train him for. After he was put in an environment he could thrive in, Biggs had met every challenge Kurogane had thrown at him and decided for himself he was happiest spending 24/7 with a handler that left him the fuck alone when they weren't working—and work involved everything he liked to do.
Chew on people, chase people, bark at people, and generally get praised for being a terror.
Biggs trusted that Kurogane wasn't going to lock him up in a loud, hectic kennel any longer than necessary, so he could tolerate it for a few hours. He trusted that Kurogane would get him the exercise he needed, so he didn't have to shred everything in sight to get energy out on his own. He trusted that Kurogane wouldn't let people get in his personal space or bug him if he didn't like it—so Biggs didn't have to advocate for himself. Finally, because he trusted his handler—he had Kurogane's back through thick and thin and was fiercely protective of him.
The feeling was mutual—Biggs was his pride and joy, and Kurogane would do damn near anything for his health and happiness. The same ugly feelings from this morning slammed into him like a freight train, and Kurogane had to take a deep breath to calm down.
Course—given the fact blood was still pouring from his fucking sniffer after eating dirt on his way in—even though he had the sense to breathe through his mouth—his deep calming breath ended in a choking fit as he basically inhaled his own blood like a total fucking genius. Biggs held his command, but just barely when Kurogane started coughing—deciding the best way to help would be barking after every cough like he was trying to scare a squirrel out of a tree in the backyard.
After nearly a minute, Kurogane turned his attention back to the literal drug lord who'd had the fucking balls to invite himself in for tea and was right back to feeling his temper boil the fuck over as uncertain baby blue eyes glanced between Kurogane and Biggs like he thought something terrible was gonna happen to the furball. He would NEVER hurt his boy—in all the times he'd been bitten, scratched, or lashed out at, he had never once retaliated by hurting his dog.
So how was he the fucking bad guy in the situation?
A quick glance at his mom and pop showed they hadn't missed the burst of aggression from him, either—and the room had gone deathly silent as they all watched carefully for his next move.
God fucking dammit !
Kurogane leaned down and grabbed Fai's hand a hell of a lot more gently than he had originally planned to grab him by the neck—pulled him up onto his feet with surprising ease—and everyone in the room visibly relaxed as they continued to watch his every move.
Dropping Fai's hand—the younger man curled both of his fists tight enough that his knuckles audibly cracked—and he kept them both glued to his side as he stared down at those too blue eyes, trying to get his brain to come back online so he could figure out what the fuck to do.
It still felt like things were moving in slow motion as his brain ran on the loop of what the fuck do I do to keep my family safe? He wanted Fai to get as far away from his family as physically possible—and he never wanted to see him anywhere near them ever fucking again. Kurogane still didn't know why Blondie was here—and he didn't know what he needed to do to make sure he not only got lost—but stayed that way.
"You're—" Fai raised a hand up like he was going to touch Kurogane's face, and on instinct, he pushed the idiot's hand away and took a big step back. The pain finally registered—as did the gross feeling of the hot sticky blood oozing from both of his nostrils, the pat pat pat of the shit dripping from his chin all over the fucking place, and the pause in his own labored breaths as he closed his mouth to swipe at the mess on his face with the back of one of his hands, the way his throat burned from coughing so hard…
"I know." Kurogane was bleeding way more than he thought he'd been. He would have been better off not touching it and had only made the mess worse in his attempt to make himself look less fucking deranged standing in front of Fai.
"I—I'm sor—" Kurogane cut Fai off with a frustrated growl when Blondie took a half step forward.
"Don't you fucking start—" Kurogane instantly regretted the word choice—not because he didn't want to cuss the bastard out—because he saw his mother cover her mouth with her hand and shoot his father a look that made Kurogane feel like a piece of shit.
They didn't know.
They both probably recognized Fai from the photo of Biggs cuddled up behind him—they knew it was Fai—the pretty blond that had ghosted Kurogane and broken his fucking heart—but they didn't know how fucking bad this was.
They didn't know that Kurogane had never mentioned where the house was.
They didn't know what was in those reports—that there was no innocent reason that Fai had shown up unannounced like this—that this was some sort of flex meant to force their son to…
Well—actually, Kurogane didn't know that for sure, either. Maybe he needed help with whatever emergency he'd called about last night and was going to force the cop's cooperation one way or another—maybe there was another fucked up reason Kurogane couldn't even imagine.
He did know that this wasn't a good situation.
Kurogane looked like the fucking asshole right now because his family had no fucking clue what was going on.
Fai's worried eyes snapped down to look at his own feet, which only made Kurogane even angrier. Who the fuck did this bastard think he was, playing the fucking skittish victim card like this? Did he believe Kurogane's mommy and daddy would make him play nice if he came off like the helpless little innocent kid that their big bad son was being mean to?
No way in hell was he dumb enough to think that Kurogane himself was going to fall for his latest academy award-winning performance after a stunt like this.
Fuck that.
Fuck all of this.
"I just meant that—"
"Did I fucking stutter?" Kurogane cut him off again and glared hard as they locked eyes.
Fai didn't look away this time—his eyes got suspiciously shiny, and he just stared back at the cop with a thin frown and furrowed brows—either finally fucking listening or waiting for Kurogane to say something else.
Which would be awesome if he knew what the fuck to do or say about any of this.
He didn't.
As the silence stretched from a few seconds into damn near a full minute, he couldn't move past the loop of not knowing what to fucking do. Kurogane had never been one to panic—didn't know if this counted as panicked—but his brain was short-circuiting in a way he'd never experienced before.
"Son…" His mother's voice somehow managed to be both soft yet firm in the same gentle way he remembered being scolded in his childhood the handful of times she had needed to set his ass straight. "You're bleeding."
He took the opportunity to break the almost painful eye contact with Fai and turned to face his mother. Kurogane gave a single nod and barely resisted the urge to wipe at the sticky mess on his face again.
"Let's fix that, ok? Your father will handle things out here while we patch you up." His mom didn't give him time to argue—by the time she'd finished her sentence, she was standing right in front of him and had grabbed hold of his non-bloodied hand.
He watched his parents exchange another look with each other before his old man moved to get between Fai and Kurogane—a gentle pull on his hand got him moving forward, and Kurogane heard his father start to explain to Fai why Kurogane's nose was gushing blood—and assured him he'd meet them outside once he was ready for company.
Just getting some distance from Blondie was helping the cop get a grip on his emotions. His mom led him down the hall and into the master bedroom. Snagging one of the towels from the basket of laundry she'd presumably been folding before Fai marched his happy ass up to the front door to ring the bell—she held it out to him and told Kurogane to sit on the foot of the bed while she fetched the first aid kit.
Kurogane didn't have the energy to argue. Instead, he pressed the towel to his bloody schnoz and thunked down on the bed with all the grace of a dead body.
He could clearly see where Fai was now sitting on the edge of the engawa—watching his father kennel up the rest of the dogs while Biggs lounged next to him—head in his lap, getting the spot behind his ear scratched with long elegant fingers.
Never in a million years would he have thought his Biggs would be that fucking attached to a human being—why did it have to be him ? Why did Kurogane have to feel this betrayed and torn up over a monster like Fai? What kind of a sick fucking joke was this?
Kurogane didn't know what was setting him off the most.
The uncertainty and fear that came along with not knowing why the fuck the most dangerous criminal in Tokyo had hunted down the address of his family home and decided a surprise visit was in order—the fact that Kurogane couldn't do jack shit to keep his family safe from Fai D. Flourite if he really wanted to hurt them—or the fact that despite every fiber of logical in his body telling him to get the fuck over the person he thought he knew, and accept he'd been played like a fucking fiddle, he couldn't turn it off.
It stung watching him out there.
After he'd spent the night with Blondie and his dads, he'd wanted to bring him home to his own family so fucking bad. He'd wanted to see the shocked look on everyone's face when Biggs laid down with the idiot like he was doing right now. Calm as a cucumber and not only tolerant of the petting and fussing—but asking for the attention all on his own. He knew both his parents would fall in love with Fai's gentle mischievous energy right away—and they'd all get along like it was meant to be.
Would'a warmed his fucking heart…
Kurogane had to peel his eyes away from the door before he followed that train of thought any further. Now wasn't the time to be emotional over shit he'd never had control over and wasn't going to be able to change.
It might feel like Fai took that away from him—but you couldn't take something away that had never existed, and it was stupid to waste energy crying over daydreams.
He needed to stop the whiny woe is me and my broken heart pity party before he kicked his own fucking ass. Needed to calm down and figure out what he was going to do to send Fai packing—and getting worked up again over the same shit he'd been whining about for over a month wasn't going to help.
Kurogane hadn't gotten to look at himself in the mirror yet—didn't need to to know his nose was fucked bad enough to warrant a hospital visit to set it straight again. Tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling, the cop did his best to get as much of the blood up off his face and neck with the already bloodied towel while he waited.
He didn't have to wait long. His mom was back in almost no time at all, first aid box in hand, as she looked her son over with a frown. Kurogane'd never been very good at figuring out why his mom was happy or sad at any given time—he knew she was thinking about something—but he had no clue what.
Was she thinking about how fucked his nose was? Was she thinking about how she would scold him for being rude to Fai? Or was she trying to come up with the best way to break some sort of news to him that he didn't want to hear?
Kurogane had no fucking idea.
Didn't help that his brain had basically malfunctioned again—he was processing slower than usual—still stuck on how the hell Fai had figured out where his parents lived when he should have moved on to what the fuck did that bastard say to his mother? Had he threatened her? Scared her? Just lied through his fucking teeth to earn her trust so he could use that to fuck them over down the road?
"Oh, dear…" His mother sighed as she stepped forward to set the first aid kit down on the bed next to Kurogane and his entire body went tense as he waited for her to continue.
"What's wrong?" He couldn't stand the thought of Fai trying to manipulate his ma—if he'd tried to scare her?
He'd be a dead man.
"I always forget how tall you are—even sitting on the bed, you're still taller than me." He watched her press a hand to her cheek and tilt her head as she smiled fondly at him. Kurogane couldn't help the amused snort—he never would have guessed the obvious issue in a million years—too busy imagining the worst to even consider the mundane.
"Want me to sit on the floor?" Seemed easier than trying to boost her up—and he wouldn't mind losing his ability to see out the window and ignore how Fai was now sitting next to his pops carrying on what appeared to be a casual ass conversation.
"Other than the bloody nose, did you get hurt when you took that tumble, dear?" The slight frown was back, and he just shook his head back and forth to reassure her before moving. Everything that had made contact with the floor hurt—but not so bad that sitting on the floor would bother him past mild discomfort.
Taking care to make sure not to touch the pink duvet with his bloodied hand, he got back up onto his feet and plopped his butt down crisscross applesauce on the floor in front of the bed—back to the window.
His mom put her hand over his own to take towel duty over, and he closed his eyes and tried not to hiss as she got to work. Kurogane used the momentary silence to push all the messy ass emotions down further and come up with a plan of action for how to handle shit best.
He didn't get very far before his mother hummed to catch his attention again—first wanting to know if what she was doing hurt—duh—but he answered politely. Half a moment passed, and she tossed the bloodied cloth in the laundry hamper, grabbed another from the clean basket, and spoke over her shoulder as she walked to the bathroom to wet it. "Are you calm enough to explain what happened, yet? I know you fell—but did you trip over the dog?"
"No—" Kurogane glanced over his shoulder and found that everyone was more or less where they'd been the last time he'd looked. "Didn't know that idiot was here—Biggs bolted when he sniffed the bastard's shoes and pulled me over."
She didn't answer right away—not until the water had been turned back off and she was halfway back to the bed to her son with the warm cloth in hand. "You've never lost your temper with him like that—if you're going to be upset with anyone, you should be upset with me."
When she reached for him, Kurogane pulled his head back on reflex and shot her a confused look.
"Stop squirming—" His mother scolded quietly and used a hand on the back of his big neck to pull him closer again and held him there as she continued to fuss over the injury. "I should have let you both know we had a guest, so no one was surprised—I scared both you and your father half to death by squawking like that, and you lost your temper with the poor dog for being happy about a visitor."
Ouch.
Fucking ouch.
"I'm not mad at Biggs, and I am definitely not mad at you." Kurogane snapped back harsher than he should have—couldn't help it—he was fucking pissed.
Not at his ma. Definitely not at his pup. It was Fai's fucking fault any of this had happened in the first place—about twice as much after hearing that bullshit line of logic.
She didn't answer right away, and that only let him get close to boiling again over the blond fucker's visit having caused her to feel like she'd done anything wrong.
They sat in silence for what was probably less than a minute as the information was presumably mulled over as she worked. He didn't pull away again—holding still made it impossible to get a read on his mother's expression when she had used a hand on his chin to push his face up for better access to the rest of the residual blood that was dripped down his neck—but it also meant he couldn't assume shit about what she was thinking.
"And Fai?"
"Fuck him." The answer slipped out before he realized who he was talking to and Kurogane's mouth snapped shut before he fixed his mother with an apologetic look and endured the long, scolding, very familiar stare while rolling his shoulders to force the building tension out.
"Would you like to try that again?"
Kurogane looked back over his shoulder and glared hard at the blond, who was no doubt still diligently loving all over his pooch like he didn't have a single care in the world.
No.
He didn't want to try again.
Fuck Fai.
"Nope." Looking back towards her, he sighed low and slow at the way his mother furrowed her brows at his response. He knew that wasn't what she wanted to hear—but he sure as hell wasn't going to apologize for telling her the truth. Rude language or not sometimes—sometimes fuck them was all you could say when you felt a certain way. "But I will mind my language and temper."
His mom hummed in agreement and snapped a handful of tissues out of the box next to the bed before heading back to the bathroom to rinse out the washcloth. The bleeding had almost stopped, and Kurogane's brain was finally starting to work with him instead of against him.
Tilting his head back, he listened to his ma putter around the room and tried to scrape together a mental list of what the fucker might want and how he would handle it, and that only made his heartbeat tick up higher and higher.
When she returned, she had one of his dad's shirts, and a pair of his sweat pants folded neatly in her arms and set them on the bed before taking a seat herself. "You don't have to tell me why you're so upset with him—but if it makes you feel any better, he has been perfectly polite the entire visit."
That did make him feel a little better—not much—but enough to tone the need to clobber him back down to a controllable level. "He say what he wanted?"
"To apologize to you—I didn't want to pry into your business, so I left it at that, and we had a nice chat over some tea and pastries—" The fucker had brought a fucking hostess gift? Seriously—what the ever-loving fuck was he trying to pull this time? "You didn't tell us he owned that little bakery up the street from where you work. The Neko no me café?"
Gee—what a fucking coincidence—the drug lord that had half the department on his payroll owned the only decent place to get coffee within walking distance of the fucking police department.
"He never mentioned it…" Kurogane made a mental note to never stop there again. "Glad he wasn't rude—still pissed—but I'd kill him if he'd been anything but polite to you."
His mother chuckled, and he half-listened to her scold him on joking about such violent things. Wasn't a joke—he'd been seriously worried—and he was still seriously pissed at the ballsy move to show up here in the first place.
He didn't believe for a second Blondie had tracked him down to apologize—not after last night's call—that wasn't a fucking emergency and Kurogane was getting real sick of the games he was playing.
Pulling the tissues away and being satisfied with the lack of gushing blood—Kurogane made a move to get to his feet. He didn't argue at being told to hop in the shower and wash the rest of the mess off his body—and he made quick work of it while his mom tried to salvage his shirt and sweats by throwing them in to soak in the washer. By the time he slid the back door open to take care of business, you'd never know what a hell of a bloody mess he'd made aside from his now crooked nose and quickly bruising features. No more blood droplets in the living room or hallway and the washer was already running with his soiled clothes.
Biggs shot up from his spot next to Fai and pulled another stunt that was out of character for him—front feet lifting off the ground, he jumped up and slammed his paws against Kurogane's chest to balance as he stretched up as far as he could to sniff at his face and seemingly check him over.
Least the furry bastard realized he was hurt.
Maybe—
Could also be the smell of the disinfectant caught his attention. Didn't really matter. Kurogane plopped a hand down on his pooch's head and gave him a few rough pats in a silent apology for losing his temper earlier, and that was all the reassurance the furball needed. With all four on the floor again, he trotted into the house to check everything out—and Kurogane closed him in as soon as he was safely over the threshold.
He didn't have to chase his old man away.
Kurogane only half paid attention to him say something about a bear claw with his name on it before heading in himself with a promise to keep an eye on the 'grandpup' so they could talk unbothered.
He didn't look at Fai as he sat down where his dad had previously been chilling—Kurogane knew that he'd get pissed the fuck off no matter what expression was in those icy blue eyes—and it took more self-control than he wanted to admit to not let his temper boil up out of control as Fai watched him wordlessly.
They sat like that for a long time, but when Fai had had enough of the silent treatment, he knew how to push the cop's buttons to take him from zero to a hundred with a single question.
"Am I allowed to apologize yet, or are you going to keep cussing at me like an overgrown child?"