The night feels like the home he never had, Izana thinks. It's warm and full of gauzy darkness that wraps around him like a soft cotton blanket. The cloudless night sky of Tokyo is beautiful in a way that almost seems unreal when the rest is all so noisy, gross, and ugly.
There aren't very many things that are beautiful to Izana, but the nights spent with Ren are decidedly lovely, he thinks. They're secrets protected by layers upon layers of deception on both sides, something full of danger that almost tastes of devotion. It's nothing particularly special, but it's unquestionably theirs, and that's all that really matters.
"So you joined a gang," Izana drawls, standing in the entrance of Ren's bedroom, casually leaning against the doorframe, deliberately blocking his only exit. His eyes are partially hidden by his hair, but there's a familiar smile tugging at his lips that makes Ren's insides turn to ice, and he does not acknowledge his rising anxiety to focus on painting instead, one brushstroke at a time. Izana's arms are loosely crossed against his chest, and although his posture seems completely relaxed, every single muscle in his body is taut as the strings of a bow.
He lingers for a beat. For a moment, Izana allows himself to remember things long gone. He closes his eyes and listens to the wet sound of brush periodically dipping into the ink, and he thinks of gasoline and motor oil dripping on the floor. It reminds him of sticky blood seeping from matted hair and a lump forms in his throat.
Izana strains his ears to hear the even sound of Ren's breathing and inhales deeply. Life beats back in his veins, and his thoughts come alive, once again wandering down familiar, comforting paths.
Ren smells like menthol cigarettes on a summer day, and his black dyed hair looks just right in the correct lighting, but more than that, there is something about him that resonates in his heart. From the moment he first saw him, a child cast into the wrong mold, at the wrong time and place, translucent white skin hidden under black bruises, he's dreamed of futures he would never see – He's seen years into other futures, a bright snowy blonde boy, the silvery glint in his eyes looking entirely like Shin's gaze. In these futures, the boy's gaze would always dip to him so slowly, an achingly soft smile forming on his lips. The boy would be beaten down, lying on top of him with a sly grin, and Izana would think that this is the face of defeat. The boy would always triumph, and he would listen puzzled and amused, "We'll create a place where misfits like us will fit right in! So that we can all become part of something greater, eh? What a fine dream to dream, Kurokawa!"
Ren sighs softly and turns in his direction. The older boy stares at him critically through washed-out lashes and walks to him in silence.
"I did," Ren says quietly, "I don't think I had much of a choice though. Though the timing was awful, I think we can agree that Toman is a lesser evil, right?" Ren shrugs with artificial nonchalance, refusing to show his fear, and Izana feels something ugly coil in his guts. "We'll see how it turns out," Ren adds softly, meticulously cleaning his painting tools. "My friend Haru's joining too. He'll do well in Toman I think".
"Aa. Maybe," Izana says, a lump forming in his throat. "I definitely wouldn't expect anyone important to look for you in Toman" he admits, but the risks are still too great, and it infuriates him to know that Ren would rather seek refuge in Manjiro Sano's shadow instead of simply relying on him. "So it is reasonable" Izana reluctantly adds, and part of him hates Ren for causing him to worry so much when he could simply accept his protection, "I still don't like it".
"I don't like it either, okay?" Ren sighs, his shoulders sagging, and Izana can see waves of exhaustion settling in his bones, "But what can I do? I need a big gang's protection and If I go to the Black Dragons, Taiju Shiba will have me work against you because he doesn't give a fuck about anything but how much money my connections can make him. Hell, if Koko wasn't already trying very hard to cover my ass, I probably wouldn't have survived our encounter in Nakano." Ren says bitterly "Koko's not helping me out of charity, by the way" he adds pointedly, and Izana snorts derisively.
"It's a death sentence if I go to a smaller gang. With Toman, at least I can hope to go under the radar for a little 'cause no one wants to start a fight they're not sure they can finish. They're too big to get fucked, but they're still no-names as far as the really dangerous people are concerned," Ren blurts out anxiously, "More importantly, they don't know anything about me," he adds with an edge to his voice, "Look, there's no good solution at this point so I'll trust Haru's decision. He thinks Toman's the right place for us."
"But he doesn't know the whole story," Izana counters easily, "He has no idea of what you've done, right?" he says with a cruel smile "I bet he doesn't know what was done to you either. He won't understand you as I do. He'll get scared because at the end of the day he's just another child playing cops and robbers"
Izana presses a kiss on his crown, absently twirling a black strand of hair around his fingers "The less he knows, the better" Ren says firmly and Izana hums approvingly. He's the only one in the world to know all of Ren's secrets, and that makes something tantalizingly warm bubble in his chest. Izana leans further into Ren to hide a smile in the thick of his hair, inhaling deeply to fill his lungs with the artificial scent of mint that usually clung to the boy.
"You've changed," Izana says fondly, running his hand through Ren's feathery black hair. The boy leans into his touch with a sigh, and something tugs at his heart.
"Aa? What makes you think that?" Ren asks curiously, twisting on his chair to look at him with pale eyes, lids heavy with sleep. Izana feels a small smile tug at his lips and presses the back of Ren's head against his chest to plant another kiss on his crown. Ren tenses, but he does not pull back, and Izana relishes this small victory.
"I notice everything. I have to, otherwise, I never know what to expect, and I can't have that. I notice when the way someone talks to me starts changing, I can see every single movement you make as if it were in slow motion. I notice the little things that people do, and the little things they used to do, every single detail until I know exactly what they're going to do. You used to be so predictable," he pauses, lightly tugging at his hair.
"I'm glad you're growing up. It's good that you realize your friend is safer if he doesn't know about your past," Izana's smile is deceptively soft, but Ren can hear the dark undertones in his voice.
"But now, you're also doing things you shouldn't be doing. I didn't think you'd be so reckless," Izana adds softly, twisting a black strand of hair around his fingers, and pulling to force his neck at an uncomfortable angle, "You should come with me," he says, as if he hadn't asked a thousand time already, "I'd protect you," Izana adds with a dangerous lilt.
"You know I can't do that," Renge chokes out, leaning further back against him to alleviate the pain on his scalp, as if he were trying to melt into his chest, "I can't," he says more forcefully, and Izana feels something like anger and frustration claw at him, but more than that, he recognizes the premises of desperation, the ugly fear of losing someone precious rearing its head again.
So he does the things he does best and he takes out the gun tucked in his waistband, still warm from being pressed against his skin, and wordlessly sets it in front of them. Folded into each other as they are, he can feel Renge's heart skip a beat against his chest.
"I have conditions," Izana tells him airily while angling Ren's head so that he would meet his eyes, "If you want to keep doing whatever it is that you're doing," he says, and Renge tenses violently against him.
"What do you want?" Ren asks warily.
"You want to play with the other kiddies in their kid's gang and that's alright," he says mockingly, "but the people who want you dead won't let you off easily just because you're still a little kid. You've got a death flag on you, remember? The people your dad messed with will collect," Izana cups his cheek in faux affection. "Your little friends won't like it, but no matter what they say, always keep it with you."
Ren looks queasily at the gun, eyes wide and unable to form words.
"Take it" Izana insists, and Ren says nothing but looks at him with barely contained panic, his full attention focused on Izana's hand on the gun, so close to the trigger. "You know how to use it, right?" He asks softly, and Ren snaps back to his senses.
"No I don't, how would I know how to use a gun?!" Renge answers hysterically. "I don't want it," he adds as if it mattered. Izana presses the gun in his hand.
"I'm not giving you a choice," he says blandly.
"I don't want it" Renge insists brokenly, and it is so lovely, Izana feels something warm swell in his chest.
"It's okay" he coos, hushing Ren with a finger to his lips. "I'll show you how to use it" he adds, smothering Renge's panicked whimpers in his hands. Without another word, Izana pulls Renge to his feet and maneuvers him into a shooting stance.
Pressing the boy against his chest, Izana takes a deep breath against the crown of his head and picks up the gun. He puts it back in Renge's hand and wraps his fingers around his to point the gun in the direction of the opposite wall, removing the security with a slow click that has the boy's stomach sink below ground. Renge's breath hitches and Izana can feel his speeding heartbeat against his chest. The world blanks out for a moment and Ren's pupils dilate into something dark and lovely. Eternity collapses in a moment, and Izana sees perfection.
"You remove the security like this. Aim, and pull the trigger to shoot." Thankfully he does not demonstrate. He lets go of Renge with utter care, his fingers ghosting over his form, tracing feather-light patterns on his arms, and he slowly pushes him back down on his chair. Izana puts the security back on in a practiced motion and sets the gun on Ren's desk.
"No matter what, shoot first and ask questions later," he explains very seriously, casting a critical look at the boy's delicate frame, "Don't let anyone take it from you, and run if you can." Ren falters, "Call me if you need to use it on someone, I'll come to help you, or I'll send someone."
"I don't want to use it," Renge says urgently "I'll never use it," he adds.
"You'll never have to use it if you come with me," Izana offers with a smile. "You'll never have to worry about anything ever again if you do," he adds lovingly, and Renge thinks it could easily sound like a threat, "I'll never let anything happen to you," Izana says, sweet words like dripping honey. His breath is hot against his ear, and for a second, Ren forgets how to breathe.
It takes him a few minutes afterward for him to start processing what had just happened. When he comes back to his senses, Izana is already laying in his bed, half of his face bathed in moonlight, the other half wrapped in shadows, waiting for Ren to join him. In the obscurity, Ren can see the half-smile on his lips and silver hair spilled on his pillow, the tantalizingly slow motion of deep even breath, and the teasing glint in his eyes. Ren can imagine his warm breath like a caress on the side of his neck, and from the other side of the room, he can feel his dark purple gaze stripping him of his skin, leaving only bones and blood to cover his deeper self. He joins him in bed, and he thinks it would be so easy to lose himself, melt into him, and that maybe this is the only way they would ever be whole again.
In the morning Izana is gone, and Ren feels sore and unbearably cold. He pulls out his phone and dials a number he knows by heart. It's been a long time since he's seen him last, but he's fairly sure he would be willing to help him. The longer he could survive on his own, the less he would have to rely on Izana. When no one picks up the phone, Ren decides to leave a message.
"Hey, could we meet sometime this week ?" he pauses, taking a deep breath "I need your help with something. Call me back when you get this"
Ren hangs up and wonders.
Meetings with Izana always leave him in a black haze. They are always sleepless nights that leave him breathless for the following days. Ren stands at the top of the slide in the playground of his childhood on the other side of town, a thrilling sense of danger coiling in his guts.
He's trying to look beyond the sky creepers blocking out the golden horizon, and he wonders what the open sky would look like in the desert, where there are no city lights to block out the stars, no building to hide the colors of the sunset, a sky so blue he could touch it, and his heart fills with suffocating want.
He wonders why his grandparents never thought to leave Japan when there was so little they had to hold them back, and so much to lose in staying. But somehow, he could bring himself to imagine why. His father was dead, but his grandmother would never cease to wait for him at the door, hoping that he would come back, with part of him surrendered to the dark, but the rest bathed in light. Ren wouldn't forgive her for what she would invariably do when she remembers that her son is dead, but he can understand her sense of loss because it had been beaten into him.
Haru's sitting next to him, feet dangling from the platform, a book laying on his lap forgotten. His eyes are closed and his head is tilted back, long black hair blowing in the warm summer breeze. A sudden gust of wind blows clouds of dust that look like glitter suspended in the air and for a moment, time stands still and something like electricity fills the air.
Renge wonders if Haru would like to travel someday, go someplace very far away from here and never come back, and something like a powerful shock pierces through his skull
– He sees a black-haired man dipping his feet into the ocean, soulful black eyes set on the distant horizon. He speaks softly, and his voice sounds like a caress, "did you know that sometimes, you can see a green flash over the ocean at sunset? I want to see it". Behind them, palm trees are gently swaying with the wind, the air is thick with the scent of salt, and their skins are sticky with monoï and other flower oils. Ren grabs the man's hand and drags him back to the beach, a lump forming in his throat "I love it here, let's never leave", he says, and the older man smiles at him with sad eyes "Alright" he says, and the smile that blooms on his lips splits his heart in two.
But the vision fades as soon as it has come, and Renge is left with a splitting headache instead. Haru looks at him questioningly, soft golden brown eyes shimmering like amber in the last light of day.
"Are you in pain?" Haru asks, his voice barely above a whisper, and Ren wonders how it is even possible that someone as fearsome as Haru could be so quiet and soft-spoken, a boy of tempered steel with a golden heart wrapped in kindness.
"Nah, I'm fine," he says, but it is obvious that Haru doesn't believe him. "I got blinded by a flashing light"
Haru raises an eyebrow suspiciously "I didn't see anything"
"Lucky you. That's 'cause you're not looking," Ren teases him, "you're not paying attention"
"I'm paying plenty of attention to my surroundings. But you… you're always looking over your shoulder like you're expecting something bad to happen all the time" Haru counters with an edge to his tone and he remembers well that from the moment they've met, Ren has always been closed off and secretive.
"Bad things happen all the time," Ren says with an ironic smile, and Haru elbows him playfully.
"Right," Haru says sarcastically, and they fall into a comfortable silence.
Haru closes his eyes and breathes out slowly, blowing golden dust in Ren's direction "Is there something you're not telling me ?" he asks ever so softly.
Ren smiles crookedly, "there's a lot of things I'm not telling anyone" and Haru snorts, hooking pinkies with Ren. Haru tugs at his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He blinks, and then he sees a burning flash, the light passing through Ren's skin and blood glowing golden red as it comes out again.
The light scatters, and Haru ponders on the wall of silence that stands between them. "Would you mind telling me ?" he asks, flexing his hand. Ren winces and Haru reluctantly unhooks his pinkie.
Ren sighs deeply and brushes Haru's hair from his forehead "I can tell you some things, I guess. Things you probably already know, though."
"I don't know anything, really," Haru tells him honestly, and something unreadable flashes in his eyes, "You've never told me why I shouldn't enter the Black Dragons even though that's the gang everyone you know is part of."
"You've met their commander, right? Do you really think he's someone you want to follow?" Ren asks rhetorically. It's a conversation they've had countless times already, and Haru is convinced that it cannot be the only reason Ren would be so reluctant to get directly involved with the Black Dragons. Haru knows why he chose Toman, but he cannot understand why Ren did too.
"No, he's not" Haru concedes, because it's true, "But you fear Mikey," he says. He's seen the way Ren looks at Mikey, eyes filled with apprehension and bewilderment.
"True. He's too intense sometimes. He makes me uncomfortable," Ren reluctantly admits, "but he's still better than the others, and you're right to think Toman is better overall. You've got the same mentality as the people who created the gang, so of course, you'd do well here"
"I guess that makes sense," Haru says, still unconvinced. "What happened to you?" he asks, and the open question hangs in the air for a moment.
Ren pauses for a long time, "You know, people don't appreciate the little things that make the rest bearable. I don't remember much about my parents, but I don't think they were shitty parents. I think I can remember my Mom going on long walks with me, and Dad tying my hair with silly rainbow ties," he sighs, and Haru thinks he's never seen someone look so defeated before, and Ren's loss feels like a tightening noose around his neck.
"My Dad got into a gang when he was our age. He was the commander of some small group, and when he stopped being a delinquent, he became a criminal instead," Ren says numbly, and Haruhi grasps, "I don't remember much about him. I don't even remember the last time I saw him alive. I just remember that Mom didn't cry at his funeral. And it's funny, right?" Ren laughs hollowly.
He pauses to light a menthol, and takes a long drag on his cigarette, slowly exhaling sweet-smelling smoke "I get the feeling that there's a lot of important shit I just don't remember. From what my grandpa told me, Dad was involved with a big Yakuza clan and he was executed by his own men 'cause he sold information to the cops. The Yakuza aren't very kind to the people who betray them so you can imagine how it went. Grandma never recovered from what they did to him"
Ren pauses for a moment and turns to him with a sad smile
"I was too little to understand what was going on, but I remember seeing the bloody parcels we kept receiving for months. I never knew what was inside. No matter how many times we moved, or where we went, the parcels kept following us. Mom couldn't bear it so she left. She didn't even try to take me with her."
Ren pauses to look at the golden treetops swaying against the sunset.
"You know, Haru, I'm kind of jealous of the people who get to be functional human beings. I feel so damaged, like a piece of glass filled with inclusions," Ren hooks a pinky to his zipper and pulls until the fabric is fully stretched and the design of his jacket is completely distorted, "I can't imagine what it's like, not to struggle to get out of bed every day, just keep on living, even though life is shit, and the rest of the world would probably be better of without you," Ren says hollowly, and it reminds Haru of his father's quiet despair before he died. Something like the resignation in his eyes.
"Some people know what it's like to feel safe and secure, but I just don't. I'm so jealous of that," Ren sighs, and the air thickens around them.
"I said I'd protect you," Haru says, but it seems so insignificant and he feels so powerless, "I said I'd never leave you, so I won't," he hardens, "I promise you"
"I don't want you to promise me anything because no one in the world can protect me. I'm a traitor's son" Ren tells him with a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"I don't care, I really don't," and it was true. Loving Ren was like loving carnage, but it wasn't hard, it came to him easily. He's always protected him, even before he first said he would.
"It's not what I wanted," Ren sighs, and Haru impulsively grabs his hand. "I never wanted to be a burden," and Haru sees in his eyes that Ren knows all about the dangers he deliberately chooses to ignore.
After all, Ren had all the markings of an easy target. He was pretty and delicate, weak in the eyes of boys used to brawling in the streets. They took a single glance at Ren and called him a doll, the lovely foreigner who looked like a girl and maybe fought like one. They both knew what happened to dolls when they were left alone, and that was the reason why Haru never let him out of his sight during a fight.
Even then, there were moments Haru doubted it would always be enough. Ren could handle himself, but there was only so much one could do to protect themselves at every moment, especially when they should not expect to be in any danger in the first place. It was something Haru had learned to dread, because he had caught others looking during Toman meetings, and god it had made his skin crawl to see whose gaze had lingered for too long. Haru had wanted to get into Toman, and he had known that wherever he would go, Ren would follow.
It might not have been ideal, but it was an unchangeable fact of life. From the moment they had met, they were never apart, and he had no intention to change that. He had been glad for Ren's determination to enter Toman alongside him, but he had not realized fully how much he would loathe himself for possibly putting Ren in danger.
The Black Dragons had been an option he did not want to entertain because they were little more than mercenaries these days. He did not regret putting his morals first, he never would, just as he knew that he would never forgive himself if Ren were to suffer for his decisions. It was a fine line to walk and Haruhi could only pray that he would not come to regret it.
"What do you want?" Haru asks, and Ren softly beams. Ren squeezes his hand and the smile that forms on his lips is so achingly lovely that it takes his breath away.
"I want freedom," Renge smiles dreamily "I want to escape," he says, and Haru sees the light come back in his eyes, a sharp silver glint like an arrowhead that pierces his heart, "I want to see the golden summer in the Caribbeans, and go to Russia in spring, see the endless viridian forests near St Petersburg. Spend a winter in Siberia, see the tundra covered in white. I wanna find my mother and look at the colors of Saint Basil's Cathedral with her just like she promised we would," Renge smiles warmly, raising his other hand to playfully tug on the strings of Haru's hoodie.
Ren thinks of his previous visions, the fragment of light that crossed his eyes, and the world tilts on its axis – He wonders whether the boy that inhabits his dreams would understand the words he can't formulate, the things he can't say, and then he remembers that he doesn't care much about the words that escape him, that he could go on for days without saying a single word. He remembers that there is comfort in solitude.
Yet he yearns for this boy, the one with the black hair who's never got to be a child either, another son of grief he would never meet, and he feels a deep kinship with him. This surpasses the numbness that usually comes with contemplating the losses of others, the dullness of hearing countless cries for help coming from every direction and feeling nothing at all, no worry, no concern, no crushing emptiness in his chest, just a strange sense of familiarity. But the feeling vanishes, and something comes to his mind through the haze.
"I suppose I just want to live"
Koko is sitting in the main room of a trendy café in the center of Tokyo next to a big window with a view on a smaller paved street. The café is quiet, the only sound is the lull of hushed conversations, and the air is thick with warmth and wafts of chocolate and sweet-smelling vanilla cakes. Koko wraps and unwraps his fingers around his cup nervously. The door chimes open, and someone hurries inside, muttering apologies in his way.
Ren is making a beeline for their usual seats. "Koko !" Ren calls him, relief flooding his eyes. "I'm so glad you could make it" he adds with emotion, and Koko wonders how bad the situation really is for Ren to be so distressed.
Koko sees the people around them looking, and he knows how dangerous it is for both of them to be publicly associated, but the situation is already too desperate, and whatever safe space they had, had been overtaken by the Black Dragons. It was not impossible that soon Ren would have to go back to Yokohama and leave everything behind, and that was not something any of them wanted. Ren looked as if he hadn't slept in days.
"You're late" Koko remarks flatly, and Ren sends him a wary smile in return, "Next time I have to wait for you longer than 10 minutes, I'm leaving," Koko adds snidely, without really meaning it, but Ren slouches further in his seat at the threat.
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again" he apologizes, slightly bowing his head. Glossy night-black strands escape from his ponytail with the motion, teasingly brushing against his naked collarbone.
Koko clicks his tongue in disapproval, "You should be more careful, my time is precious"
"So is mine", Ren comments warily, "Let's get a drink first. My treat, since I was late" Ren's smile flashes invitingly.
"Alright, since you're paying" Koko drawls, "so, what did you want to talk about ?" he asks curiously.
"Things are moving in Shibuya, but I can't figure out exactly what's going on," Ren says uneasily, "Do you have any idea what really happened with the RD? Why is everyone talking about Moebius so suddenly ?"
"Well, as far as I know, Toman has always had border problems, right? Your turf is smack in the middle of Tokyo, that's to be expected. The RD got fucked, but now Moebius will definitely come at you. They're getting ready" Koko reasons "What's strange, though, is that it would happen now of all times," he adds.
"As you said, it's bound to happen at some point. The 5th is on the move, they got intel that Osanai is gathering his men on our border. Why is it so strange ?" Renge asks curiously. Koko merely raises an eyebrow in derision.
"It is bad timing for us, alright" Ren concedes thinking of the previous fight with the RedDevils weeks ago that had ended with dozens of boys sent to the hospital and a worrying increase in police rounds on their turf "But nothing so bad that it would be an invitation to attack".
"Oh, so you really don't know ?" Koko smiles widely, tapping a finger on his cheek. "The numbers of Mobius doubled this month, any idea why ?" He asks leaning forward, a predatory grin on his lips. He grabs Ren's drink and takes a swing, never losing eye contact with him. The younger boy pales visibly.
"What the fuck ?" Ren chokes "I'm more concerned about how the fuck I did not know about that, to be honest, but damned" Koko pats his hand condescendingly.
"Ah, they've upgraded their strategy, that's for sure" He purrs looking down at their linked hands on the table. "I'd start worrying about how to survive the coming fights if I were you because you have no idea the game these guys are playing" Koko adds while smiling pleasantly at the silently panicking boy. It takes Ren a moment to compose himself.
"I" He begins unsure "I'll be fine" Ren flexes his hands on the tabletop, and lifts his head to look straight into Koko's eyes. The older boy merely raises an eyebrow.
"If worse comes to worst, I have the means to protect myself" He adds with a disturbing sense of finality. Understanding flashes in his eyes and Koko's smile vanishes from his lips. He schools his expression into a blank mask and nods at the boy. The air between them thickens into something heavy and suffocating.
"I imagine you do. Have you seen that guy recently ?" Koko asks and the question comes out in an artificially neutral tone as if he were asking about the weather. Ren tenses violently.
"Yea, I've seen him earlier this week, but then I've got no news from him." Ren begins cautiously. It would be easy for Koko to use this information to harm him if he ever decides to. But lying was not an option, His tentative friendship with Koko was based on mutual trust and it was more necessary for Ren than it was for the older boy. He could not afford to get caught concealing the truth on that matter. Koko looks satisfied.
"I'm starting to get worried actually. At the very least I know he's not in prison" He lets his fingers trace the rim of his glass. Koko licks his lips reflexively. "That's not exactly a relief, but that's something, right ?" He clicks his tongue in distaste.
"He's dangerous," Koko says carefully "He's more dangerous than anyone you know. Anyone we know. He's deranged" He adds decisively. "The least you hear from him, the better". Koko curls his hands around his glass and sighs deeply.
"I know, I know he's dangerous. But he's genuinely looking out for me in his own way. Beggars can't be chooser, so I gotta work with the people who give a shit if I live or die."
"I suppose so" Koko concedes "But I don't think that guy could be your savior. You're betting on a losing horse".
Ren sighs and Koko clicks again his tongue in annoyance.
"Koko, you've seen the first generation of the Black Dragons, right?" Ren tries to steer the conversation toward another subject, "How were they? What are they doing now?"
"Most are dead or in prison. The others weren't doing too well last time I checked. They're all basically Yakuza now anyway," Koko raises an eyebrow.
"I figured as much. The Black Dragons have the most connection with the big Yakuza gangs, right?" Ren asks cautiously.
"It's true we work with the Yakuza, but we're not the most well-connected teenager gang in the area. There's another one out there that's going to be a problem in a few years," Koko grins predatorily, "hear me out, the top exec used to be part of the first-gen of the BD," he laughs, "what a small world"
"That's not unexpected, though," Ren remarks pensively, "the Black Dragons used to be the biggest gang around back then"
"Nope, it makes sense. But it makes me uneasy," Koko confirms, "Taiju's got a good idea of how to run a gang and make it prosper, but he's underestimating the people he wants to work with. This other gang does not."
"Aa? Why do you think that?"
"Look, you know how it works right? We do what everyone else does, just better. Once you're an adult, if you get caught committing a crime or wearing a gun, you go to prison, period. If you killed someone, you might get a death sentence. If you're a teenager, it's different. You might go to juvie for a while if you killed someone, but that's pretty much it. There are actually very few consequences for our actions. So we work with the adult gang, and it's a mutually beneficial arrangement: we do their dirty work cause we got it easier with the police, and they give us a cut of their benefits, and they directly appoint our leaders as executives in their organization when they become adults. From the kiddie's pool straight into the ocean"
"I know that"
"I know you do, but you don't understand, okay? Taiju's almost 18, right? He would probably be judged like an adult if he gets caught. Plus he's the leader of a gang that's notoriously violent, he's responsible for many deaths and he's technically in charge of all the drug trafficking in the area. How the fuck do you think he can afford a penthouse in Tokyo? He'd be sent straight to prison for a long time."
"So what's your point?"
"He wants to be promoted," Koko says exasperatedly. "But you've got to earn a promotion, right?"
"..."
"Right. He's getting restless, and his superiors don't like it. I'm half expecting him to just disappear someday, and if Taiju falls, I'm pretty sure the BD are done for. People within the black dragons don't all like him very much;" Koko smiles crookedly, "Some are very loyal, some are stupid, some are plain opportunistic," he laughs, "and some are very much done with his bullshit"
"So you think Taiju's going to get himself killed ?"
Koko nods "I think that's more complicated than that. I don't think the yakuza Taiju works with need to bother placing a hit on him if they want him dead. He's overreaching, and we've got competition; I think they'll just let him pick a fight he can't win with another gang and not do anything about it"
"Makes sense"
"We're probably going to get fucked at some point, but I'm not too worried about myself" he flashes a smile "I'm more worried about my friend who's got no idea what's coming for us. He's got no chill whenever the BD are concerned."
"Inui-san?" Ren asks, remembering the blonde boy that Koko loves, and Koko nods in response, "I'll try to keep an eye open. I can't promise I'll be able to know when shit's going to hit the fan, but I'll try to give you a fair warning if I learn anything interesting"
"Don't worry about that," Koko interrupts him, "I can create all the opportunities I need," he smiles widely, "It's a simple, simple game, really. Whoever strikes first, wins"
"You're different, Koko. You'll never become a good adult, right ?"
"I'm not playing" Koko shrugs "and neither are you," he says with a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"No one's playing" Renge huffs, but the calculating glint in Koko's eyes captures his attention.
"They definitely are. Everyone's playing. People in our gangs got here in the first place because it's exciting and fun. They don't do it for the money," he pauses " I'm doing it for the money, and because it's easy ."
Koko lies back in his chair.
"Most of our members are like us, teens between 16 and 19 years old. So you realize that most of them won't become career criminals. They'll stop being involved with gang activities at some point and become regular adults when they become 20 or 21 years old. Go to school, find a job, build a family, stuff like that. That's how it works. At some point, you gotta become the person you hate if you wanna fit in. You boys from Toman, I bet in ten years they'll bitch when people make too much noise at night cause it'll wake the kids." Koko smiles derisively, twirling a lock of hair around his fingers.
"People are people" Ren shrugs "But we knew that already" he adds.
"Yea, but it's still fun to watch hypocrites" "Right now, everyone's having a lot of fun, but it's not gonna last for long when they realize that the world they stepped in is more fucked up than they expected, that they can't just wash their hands of their past so easily and slip into normality again"
"No one wants to be normal"
"You can't imagine how many people want to be normal. But I agree with you, normal fucking sucks. Besides, it annoys the fuck out of me."
What they say afterward doesn't matter much, and when they leave the café, they walk in silence through the streets of Tokyo for a long time until they reach the stone-walled moats of the Imperial Palace and cross over to the East Gardens. The gardens are closed at night, but it's easy to enter the section that is usually open to the public. Koko pulls his hoodie over his head to hide his face and they cross the empty garden to the central hill that dominates the former palace grounds, following along the lines of ghostly gray walls, entrance gates, and ruined guardhouses of the old castle tower that was destroyed hundreds of years before and never rebuilt.
Koko gestures toward the gardens at the foot of the hill, with a finger to his lips, "Let's meet here next time" he says with a small smile.
"See you soon, I guess" Ren smiles genuinely for the first time of the night, "Take care Koko"
Mikey sits at the top of the jungle gym, legs dangling and head thrown back, bathing in the golden light of late afternoon. His eyes are closed, and he looks at spidery red veins through closed lids. The sun is warm on his skin, but his bones are cold, and his chest is aching. He takes a deep breath, and the cloying scent of overly ripe peaches and stolen candy fills his lungs.
He cracks an eye open and looks down to see that there are children playing and laughing on the swings and the seesaw, parents chatting on the benches and there's a dog barking in the distance. Everything feels too much, too bright, wrongfully alive, and something dark bubbles in his chest, simmering under his ribs. Mikey briefly wonders what it would take to make it all go quiet.
"I thought you'd be here," Draken asks with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Mikey turns to him and beams softly.
"You know me," Mikey says in muted wonder, "You know me well, actually" he adds, a slight lump forming in his throat.
"There's something bugging you" Draken states contemplatively, "wanna tell me what you're thinking about?" he asks, looking up at Mikey from the foot of the jungle gym, leaning against the fence surrounding the playground. Mikey hums softly, throwing his head back to look at the open sky above.
"I feel like there's something I'm missing," he confesses, and a sudden gust of wind sweeps his hair. Mikey takes a deep breath of warm air and exhales slowly.
He feels his guts clench, and he looks at Draken's figure bathed in the golden light of high summer. There is something in his eyes that reminds him of his lost childhood, the one that didn't last, tainted in loss and loneliness. The golden light and the beauty of sunset, the flares of red and purple dipping below the horizon, Shin and Emma's games in the late evening, and more than that, the pit of emptiness between them. Although he's never lost a fight, Mikey knows loss and defeat intimately, along with the bone-deep fear to acknowledge any longing. All that he has ever lost chipped at part of him he never recovered, not fully. He doesn't know the name of this feeling, but he thinks of his friends, of all that he has to lose, and something like anger and fear coil at the pit of his stomach.
"What do you mean by that?" Draken asks, slightly alarmed.
"I really don't know, to tell you the truth," Mikey says mulishly "But there's something odd going on" he adds calculatingly, "I have a bad feeling about it." Mikey sits up straight again, to look directly at Draken, "What do you think I should do, Ken-chin ?" he asks pensively.
Draken sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose to fight off his oncoming headache "I know what you mean, I've got the same bad feeling" he confirms to Mikey's quiet surprise. "I've looked into the people from Mizo. They didn't blab, but I also think there's something weird going on. I'm not comfortable with the fact they did stuff behind our backs on another gang's turf"
Mikey nods, eyes glazing over. "Whatever it is that they were really doing, we'll soon know, though. There's been an awful lot of movement around us lately"
"I thought so as well," Draken agrees. "I've asked Pah, and he's got no idea why Kiyomasa and the others tried something like this. He really wasn't involved," he adds.
"I never thought he'd do something like that in the first place." Mikey dismisses his concern easily.
Draken agrees with the sentiment. It felt ridiculous to even think Pah would betray them, but he had to ask in order to be sure. It would not be the first time the unthinkable happened, and what Mikey refused to consider, he had to deal with, "Me neither, but it's best to make sure everything's alright, though"
"You're so reliable, Ken-chin" Mikey smiles warmly at him, eyes full of fondness.
"It wasn't all useless talk though. Pah and I figured out something interesting that you might want to know. We think Pah's got a friend who's involved with another gang that got obliterated by the RD."
"So what?"
"The guy's a little desperate because the RD were targeting them for apparently no reason, and now that they're in a bigger gang, he thinks they'll come at him again"
"Pah's going to want to help his friend"
"Right, so we might have to get involved at some point"
"That would be bad"
"Ken-chin, what do you think is most important ?" Mikey asks so softly, Draken might have missed it entirely if he had not been paying close attention to him. He sighs, and Mikey leans back against the cold bars of the jungle gym, eyes closed and hands turned to the sky as if he were in prayer.
His head spins, and for a brief moment, Draken is back at the brothel, trying to ignore the noises around him, thinking of a mother's gentle touch that does not feel like perversion and a father's gaze that would not penetrate his bones. His home is vacant, but there is love within its walls, constrained and conceited, but it still exists, it's still better than nothing.
Draken does not answer, and Mikey softly snorts "What isn't important here ?" he asks instead with a small smile.
When Mikey asks about what he loves the most, what he deems the most important in his life, Draken knows Mikey understands that he's asking for something that does not exist outside the world they created, outside the frontier of their dreams. It was a simple truth, but Daken never had a family outside of Toman and sometimes it felt as if Toman was meant to be his grave.
"So what do you want most ?" Mikey asks again, and this time the question gives Draken pause. He tilts his head to the side to get a better view of Mikey.
"I want something of my own. A loving family," he says, and they both know love is hard until it becomes easy, "Bonds," he adds for his own benefit.
"You're so sweet, Kenchin," Mikey says softly with a bright, genuine smile on his lips, and it's almost enough to break his heart all over again. Ken-chin looks so small from up above, his blonde braid swishing with every movement, smoldering gaze zeroed on him and the black dragon on his temple guarding his eyes.
He thinks he's had so little time to mourn, and so much time to regret, and for the better part of an instant, he's overwhelmed, and the dark simmering behind his heart claws at his chest.
"What are you thinking about?" Ken-chin asks, and Mikey wonders what he sees in him. Does Draken understand? Part of him hopes he does.
"I'm thinking that it's easy to lose sight of what's important," Mikey smiles at him "One day you wake up, and you've got nothing left. One day you wake up, and you've got all you've ever wanted, and sometimes it's just not enough."
Mikey looks at Draken, and for the first time, he sees a child. "Sometimes I don't even feel like a whole person," he says, and Draken glances at him questioningly "Have you ever noticed you pick up little things from the people you spend most of your time with ?"
Draken snorts loudly, but the glint in his eyes shows that he understands what Mikey was trying to tell him. "You sure don't seem to pick up anyone's common scene" he jokes, and Mikey's mouth settles into a pout.
"If the people we love leave part of them with us, then it only makes sense that it hurts so much when they're gone." he says, and Draken's gaze sharpens, but Mikey shakes his head and keeps talking, "we're like a reflection of the people that we care about and the things they left stick with us for the rest of our lives." Mikey feels a small smile tug at the corner of his lips "We're patchworks of the people we miss"
Mikey stands at the top of the jungle gym and looks to the ground, wondering what it would feel to stand at the top of a building instead. But Draken's here, ready to catch him if he decides to jump, and that changes everything. Draken's smile is heart-breakingly soft, and Mikey thinks he's never seen something enduring in his life, and this might just be a testament to Draken's strength that Mikey himself could never hope to attain.
Mikey looks up and he sees a sky so blue he could touch it, fluffy white clouds slowly drifting above their heads. He takes a deep breath, the smell of hot asphalt and burnt grass scorches his lungs. It reminds him of the last summer he loved, filled with days spent at the swimming pool with Draken, drops of spilled water sizzling on the road, hiding behind Torii gates, and the scent of Shin's favorite blend of incense. Mikey remembers, and he thinks how odd it is that a failing heart never makes a sound.
"You keep your people close to your heart for when things get rough" Ken-chin says, and Mikey nods, but it's not all that there is to it, and maybe Draken doesn't see the hollow yet. Mikey hopes he never will, but it's almost a guarantee if he stays with him.
"When people leave, you don't realize right away that they're gone. For me at least, it doesn't feel like much at first," Mikey says pensively "It feels unreal, it's not like real solid grief, I'm just going through the motions. It's like no one died, except someone did, and sometimes you remember, but most of the time you forget. I'm always half expecting to see Shin walk through the door as if all that happened was just a bad dream" he smiles ironically, "But it's not a dream so it feels like he's died a hundred times"
Mikey stands still and looks at Draken pensively. He thinks Draken's taller and stronger than most adults he knows, but he's still a child who's been forced to grow up too fast, too soon. He wonders when that boy became his safe haven, one of the last tethers connecting him with life, and rampart against madness. Ken-chin blinks slowly, and his eyes are bright embers burning steadily. Mikey takes a deep breath and waits for the silence between them to thin.
"I forgave Baji, and it took all I had. I don't think I can do anything else now. I don't even know what I want most of the time. I don't know what's me and what's not" Mikey says dully.
"But it's a good question. What do you want now ?" Ken asks, and Mikey thinks Ken wouldn't want the same answer he would give just anyone.
"Something that lasts," he says, and he has a compulsion, a ray of darkness flashes through his eyes, and his heart opens to want, and even more wants – he sees a boy with long soot-black hair and pale ashen eyes and feels fire in his veins, a flare in his loins.
Mikey sees far into the past and into the distant future, things that were never meant to be blurring into things that could be. He sees a child who looks like him finger painting under the golden light of the late afternoon, sharing secrets with a white-haired stranger. The stranger wears his face like a mask, pale hair and cold dark eyes contrasting against the languor of summer.
Time tangles around his finger, Mikey pulls greedily and sees more, he sees the child and countless birthday parties and colorful holidays, a woman in black and the same stranger with a dead look in his eyes. He smiles triumphantly at her, and she shakes her head, he brushes his fingers on her swollen belly and she says something forlornly that he can't hear. Mikey pulls again on the thread and he's so close he can grab her hand in a luxurious penthouse, and he feels more at home than he has ever been, decades encompassed in mere seconds, years' worth of anguished routine that finally rings true, and it feels so safe, patient and slow-moving. Something wet weights on his lashes, and before Mikey can blink it away, the thread finally snaps.
"To disappear"
