STORY WARNINGS:
–Yaoi – Male/Male.
– Rating: Mature. ADULTS ONLY. Contains coarse language, explicit sexual content both consensual/non-consensual, forced/willing submission, bondage, BDSM, edging, safewords, aftercare, rimming, flogging, anal orgasm, graphic violence, torture, adult themes, public display of affection, innuendo, guilty pleasure fantasy where you want someone to be a bit too forceful, emotional roller coaster, happy ending, BAMF Takaba Akihito, BAMF Hacker Takaba Akihito.
A/N: I can't believe we're at the Epilogue... BUT! And it's a big But. The best But. I indulged and just let myself write freely... which, naturally, ended up long! So this is a whopping 15k words, and we also have a bonus chapter 30! Woohoo! I'm posting them together.
I've always wanted to do the ultimate cliché and call the last chapter 'The Beginning', happily it's fitting here. And since I've gone totally goo-goo over these two over the course of this story, this is total mush, as you'll see. There are a couple of dark snippets here and there, just to flag, but I'd say it's 99.9% mush. It's sickeningly sweet and I'll warn you for cavities but I make no apologies whatsoever. Have it.(*^3^)
Here's Part 1. See you in a few minutes for Part 2.
~ Nyx~
Epilogue: The Beginning – part 1
One year later.
Too fast to dodge. Too heavy to parry. And on top of that was the heckling. What kind of self-respecting dojo permitted heckling?
It seemed like only seconds since Doi had picked himself up that his legs were again swept out from under him and he had another solid encounter with the tatami. And yet again came the delighted taunt.
"Ouhhhh! Even I saw that one coming! You gotta mix it up more, bud. Blond Tank's handing you your ass! On a platter! With garnish!"
A muscle ticked in Doi's jaw. 'Blond Tank'? Silent and nimble, he rolled to his feet again. Faced the giant again. Set his guard again.
There was an easy laugh from the sidelines. "You're gonna feint high and go low again, aren't you? Trying to use his height against him? I know he's a big guy but c'mon, you've done that a gazillion times already and how many times has it worked? You know he can move like nobody's business."
A tendon twitched under Doi's eye. He barely ducked aside from a mallet of a fist in time, glancing heavily along his block. There was a glimpse of blond hair off to the side as he whipped back around. What was with that? The Chief of Security currently putting him through his paces was also blond, though his was trimmed with military precision.
"You can say it, you know. Am I annoying? I'm annoying, aren't I? Hey, Blond Tank, I think this guy's too pissed off to concentrate."
Who was he? Doi spared a flicker of a glance at the young man on the hardwood path around the outer edge of the dojo. He seemed out of place, and not just because he wasn't wearing the regulation suit. Jeans and a tank top was all Doi saw before he was flipped, legs up and shoulders back, and he was down again.
He landed hard on his back. Air whooshed out and didn't return.
He rolled to the side, gasping for air that his lungs couldn't take. He'd instinctively hunched to foetal. But before his training could kick in and he could straighten himself out, that flop of blond hair approached and hauled at his arm.
"Upsy-daisy," came the annoyingly cheerful voice. "Kneel up. C'mon, I can't lift you. Blond Tank could but I don't think he's too impressed with you right now. C'mon, newbie, kneel up."
Newbie? From this disrespectful windbag? It burned, even more than letting himself be winded like an amateur and not the 3rd Dan Black Belt that he was. Scowling, knowing he could have sorted himself out, Doi gathered his legs underneath him into seiza. He grunted as his shoulders were yanked back and a knee was jammed into his spine, forcing his chest to stretch out. And with it, his lungs found room to expand again, and merciful air returned.
"There we go. Still in one piece?"
Doi glared at the inappropriate grin as the young man let go and peered into his face. But he bit his tongue, it should be Suoh-sama curbing the man's inappropriate attitude.
Suoh glared down from his impressive height. "It counts for jack shit if you're unbeaten in your home dojo. If you can't keep a cool head, you're done for."
Doi bowed his head. "There are too many distractions here for focused quiet, sir."
The young man pushed to his feet, losing all his cheer all of a sudden. "Really? That's your excuse?" The smile had dropped off that bright face, red-hot seething taking its place. "What're you gonna do? There's a hit out on Asami but you're gonna tell them to come back another time 'cos you're distracted?" He sucked in a sharp breath, boiling over. "It's not just Asami either. You gotta have each others' backs too. These are real lives, real threats. Fucking deal with it before you let something happen you can't take back."
The young man stormed off, quick strides that spoke of real anger. All around them, the suited men mostly avoided eye contact – not with the young man, but with Doi.
An awful feeling was creeping up on Doi that he'd read the situation all wrong – that young man, his standing amongst all these serious men...
"Final test failed, Doi-san." Suoh's voice was as much ice as the other man's had been fire. "You still have a lot to prove if you want to join the elite guard. Assessments under controlled conditions only indicate a baseline standard. The real test is how well you adapt to your surroundings, not only maintaining focus but utilizing external factors to advantage. I'll leave you on probationary review for now but you'd best heed Takaba-sama's words. And fast."
Doi glanced in the direction the young man had stormed off. Takaba-sama?
Suoh gave several hand signals over his shoulder without looking. "Two-on-one, five bouts back-to-back, best of three rounds each. They won't hold back. Keep your head or you'll be beaten to a pulp." He walked away without another look.
There was a rush of men and Doi found himself in the middle of eight suited men marking the sparring area. A ninth and tenth stepped forward.
All around the dojo, traditional except for the unusual spaciousness, dozens of men were training, dedicated concentration punctuated by the rustle of their suits, the slap of break-falling, the grunt and yell of exertion. Familiar sounds. Familiar energy. Doi propelled his mind into familiar focus.
They bowed, raised guard positions and set their stances, when they heard –
"Sup, bitches."
Doi failed to block the fist to the jaw.
"You still steamed up about last time? I creamed you fair and square!"
"It was forty-five seconds."
"Exactamondo! Them's the rules – I stay on my feet for forty-five seconds, it's my win."
"Why don't we make it a minute from now on. Unless, of course, you want to take it slow, Takaba-sama?"
"Don't Takaba-sama me, I know you're just winding me up... And it's totally working!" A laugh. "Bring it on, a minute it is. Nakatani, can you do the honours? Me and Sagano gotta da~a~ance."
Any period of quiet was short-lived. Takaba kept up the constant barrage with a couple of guards several groups over. They were still at it half an hour later when Doi tried to walk and not limp off. None of the other men seemed affected by the small tornado of cheerful disturbance, taking it all in stride without a flicker of irritation. Indeed they seemed more amused than anything. Doi admired their fortitude. He kept getting distracted by the outlandish exclamations that kept flying over, and while he'd escape most of the bruising what with years of conditioning, he'd still taken too many hits he would have ordinarily dealt with. His jaw felt a bit loose, his ribs ached and his limbs were like dead weights.
"That thingamajib was cool!"
"Which thingamajib was that, sir?"
"That spinny leap to the side and Boo!-I'm-behind-you thingamajib! How d'you do it?"
The two guards started walking him through a block, side step, hook and throw manoeuvre. On Takaba's part it was accompanied by frequent laughter, mostly directed at his own clumsy mess-up of the sequence. Who trained like this? But even as the guards remarked amidst a lot of good-natured cracks that he was about as coordinated as a newborn foal, they never once lost their underlying respectfulness.
Doi had read this wrong, alright. There were far bigger dynamics at play here than he could have guessed at.
Then the Master arrived.
They all stood to attention, bowing in unison as Asami stepped into the dojo. All except that young blond. No one else seemed to consider it odd as Takaba continued standing there, scowling. Everyone returned to their bouts but the guards with Takaba were noticeably more subdued now.
Doi had only met Asami once before, in his last interview when he'd been left swimming with nervous sweat as every last detail of his private life and beliefs and values had been scrutinized before he was approved for Assessment. Coming from the larger group of Asami's security organization, only the cream of the crop was put forward for close protection duty. Joining this top cadre of bodyguards required passing an exhaustive Assessment – and although nobody had said as much, Doi couldn't help but feel that a nod from Takaba might actually be a de facto criteria.
Asami strolled around the dojo, pausing here and there – such fluidity of movement, noticeable even in something as simple as standing and walking. Pausing beside Suoh, they conversed quietly. Doi was stealing a breather until he was sent back into the fray, but he tried to look smart by the wall as Asami's cool gaze swept over him. He only remembered to breathe again as the sharp focus moved on, studying the other men as the Security Chief filled him in.
Asami's next stop was by Takaba's group who turned and bowed.
At least, the suited men did. Akihito alone stood tall, hands on hips. "I told you not to come!"
Doi was startled into a cough.
"Did you? I don't recall."
Doi blinked. Was that... teasing?
"Bullshit, I said I was gonna come train with the guys before whatever hush-hush skulduggery you're dragging me to tonight."
"Is that what you meant. Well don't stop on my account. Carry on."
"How can they carry on, you know what you're like whenever there's any contact involved, all evil laserbeam glare and everything! And hey, surprise, it's sparring so what do you think's gonna happen!"
"Oh, you want contact sparring, do you?"
"Baka, stop putting words in my mouth!" There was a beat of silence when Asami raised a brow, something glinting in his dark gaze. Takaba flushed beet red before he hissed. "Don't even go there!"
"Well, seeing as I'm here..." came the innocent response.
"Ugh, fine. Seeing as they're not gonna train properly with me now anyway, you big disruptive bastard. Later, guys." Takaba and the two guards bowed to each other before the blond headed off to another area further towards the corner, with Asami following.
The men's faces were mildly amused all the while. Doi, on the other hand, was staring stupidly. What just happened...?
Asami and Takaba were circling each other. They were further away now but Doi could still hear what he supposed was meant to be trash talk.
"I'm gonna run so many circles round you, you're gonna spin like a spinning top."
"I suppose that may be a good tactic for you, make your opponent dizzy."
"Mock away while you still can. I've got some new tricks you don't know about."
"Aside from tripping yourself over, you mean?"
"Hey! That was only the one time! And anyway it's all about the element of surprise."
Asami chuckled. "That it certainly was. You dropped out of my hold by falling over. I've never seen anything so... creative."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You just wait and see, I'll get you with that one of these days and you can worship my awesomeness from where you're flat on your ass."
Asami's gaze could have lit a small fire, his reply soft and intense. "Anytime. I'm already holding my breath."
Takaba blinked several times, clearing his throat. "Perfect. Yeah, you just keep on holding that breath 'cos you're gonna need it in a second. You ready?"
"Doesn't warning me rather ruin the surp–umph–" Asami broke off with a soft grunt as Takaba charged full pelt and drove his shoulder through Asami's stomach and hauled under both knees. On a lesser man Takaba would have had enough momentum and the right leverage to flip his opponent onto his back. Asami, however, was quick to drop his weight, ground his feet, absorb the impact, and deflect Takaba's momentum aside. But Takaba didn't go tumbling off along the tatami. Asami arrested the spin with a deft hand, letting Takaba lean almost horizontally against him, one leg flailing in the air, until nudging him upright again.
Takaba just gave him a look, both impressed and dismayed, as though thinking, Not only did that fail spectacularly but you also had time to keep me on my feet? "Gah, more practice needed!"
"Actually it was good, the placement, angle, timing."
"Not good enough."
Asami smirked. "Not against me."
Takaba rolled his eyes, though he was smiling again. "You arrogant ass."
They started sparring. Takaba's grin quickly faded, his face a study in concentration. He moved surprisingly well, better than what Doi would have expected having seen him getting tangled up in the new throw earlier. He didn't have a large variety of techniques but what he knew were developing well – good stances and footwork, balance sometimes off but the way his face scrunched up said he knew that. He had good connection and timing with his arms and legs and core, the beginnings of generating power beyond the limitations of physical strength. Hits and blocks were fast and direct, nothing flashy or surplus which would only slow him down and betray his intent. Not training for long, Doi would wager, but obviously under expert tuition.
Asami, on the other hand, was masterful. Even while obviously holding back, his ability was far superior to anyone in the room, reflexes lightning fast, expert control of every shift in balance and movement – not only his own but Takaba's as well. When he deflected or knocked the smaller man off balance, or if Takaba knocked himself off balance, Asami steered him back round again, always in absolute control and careful of the force he exerted. There was no surplus tension, everything just fluid and easy and the very definition of why martial arts was called an art form.
Doi was confused about the occasional swats against Takaba's elbow sticking out too wide or back when leaning forwards, until he realized that Takaba corrected himself each time. Neither mentioned it, the communication nonverbal, reading and understanding each other without even having to think about it – that was when it dawned on Doi that Takaba was being trained by Asami-sama himself...
Doi only got as far as his jaw dropping when a suited chest blocked his view. He looked up into Suoh's unimpressed face. Still fumbling with the implications of what he'd seen, Doi rushed to join some men who were just re-grouping into new bouts.
Takaba never stopped talking for long. "Gah, I almost had you then!"
And Asami always teased back. "Yes you almost... made me try."
"Oh, haha. You just keep talking like that, you smug bastard. Give it another year and I'll make you tap out, you'll see!"
Asami rushed in. There was a yelp and a flail of slender limbs before the young blond was down, but the slap of breakfalling was greatly muted as though someone had cushioned his fall.
A carefree laughter rang through the dojo. Distracted once again, Doi earned a heavy kick to the thigh before he managed to leap aside.
"Sweet!" came the bright voice. "I gotta learn me that. Think it'll work on you?"
"You're a hundred years too early to be pushing me down, Akihito."
"Yeah, 'cos you're that old," the young man taunted right back. There was a strained grunt and then he was sitting atop Asami, pinning him down.
Doi only managed to block a back fist coming for his temple in the nick of time. It was close enough that he felt it on his hairs.
"There, is that better?" the young man crooned. "You should take it easy, old man, you don't want to put your back out."
"Oh? So that's what you were after? You should have said."
In no time at all Asami flipped them over, lying over Takaba – lying, not pinning, there was too much body-length contact for it to be a legitimate pinning manoeuvre.
"I wasn't – Cut it out!" Takaba hissed. "Asami!"
The scales dropped, well and truly, from Doi's eyes. He stood there in numb stupefaction as an elbow caught his already tender jaw and a solid kick in the chest drove him clear out of his bout. But fortunately for him, all training was aborted anyway. Even before Suoh signalled a halt to the session with a code 8 evacuation, everyone had started bowing to training partners and heading for the doors.
"Sheesh... Your men are gonna get all lazy and slow if you keep interrupting their practice! Don't tell me you were secretly worried that today's the day I finally floor you in front of everyone with that scissor kickmmmpphhh –"
Doi stumbled out through the dojo doors.
He just stood there taking it in – the men bowing and exiting the dojo, the respectful discretion demonstrated in the way they kept their eyes averted until the doors closed, the pink-tinged forbearance of the two guards (the two Takaba had been training with) remaining on duty a short distance down the hall as well as the sometimes sympathetic, sometimes gleeful slaps on the back they received from the others heading off early for their next shifts.
Dedicated but with a camaraderie, not only duty but purpose. A sense of unity.
It had been a long time since a personal protection job had been more than a job, but if this, here, was what it meant to be accepted into this elite rank – Doi wanted in.
He turned to find himself staring at Suoh's formidable chest, close enough to feel cross-eyed. He looked up.
The look on the Security Chief's face wasn't one that Doi was ever going to mess with. "You'll only be warned this once. You don't touch Takaba-sama unless it's for his protection. And you would do well to remember that the confidentiality agreement you signed also applies regarding Takaba-sama, and it applies for life. Do you hear me?"
Doi couldn't bow fast enough. He had a lot of ground to make up, he knew, and he found himself more resolved than he'd felt in a long time.
The first three days of the new year, typically spent with families. As in, families. Not "families" with great big air quotes the size of mammoth tusks.
It was all perfectly, almost painfully, civil during the first introductions. No surprise there, with Asami radiating paralytic levels of authority and Arctic ruthlessness. It was when the Evil Overlord left Akihito's side to take a brief phone call that the gloves came off and he could see what was really lurking behind the sham smiles.
"I never expected to ever have the pleasure," greeted someone who could have passed for a perfectly ordinary business exec if they'd crossed in the street. There were a bunch of them in their forties to sixties, swaggering around in power suits.
It was unsubtle on Akihito's kind of epicness. Just 'cos odds were he should've been ashes in the wind by now, did they expect him to cower? He locked eyes and, perfectly politely, chucked the shit right back.
"Why, are you retiring or something? Are the stresses of working life too much for you to handle? I can speak to Asami for you if you're too daunted to do it yourself."
He smiled sweetly at the murderous glare that followed.
There'd never been an issue with Akihito bouncing business functions before. It was the first time Asami had put his foot down. Akihito heard the big fat capital M whenever Glasses mentioned the Meet in his boss' schedule, every time Blond Tank went over security details and endless iterations and contingencies, and he was wary as fuck. He vaguely recalled mention of it the previous year but he'd been kicking around with his friends then and Asami hadn't so much as twitched a regal eyebrow. But this year? "Your attendance is mandatory," was how Glasses had put it. Akihito was laughing... until Asami killed it with his filthy smirk. "You can attend of your own volition or I can handcuff you to me. Shall I decide, if you have no preference?"
The perverted bastard had actually kept a pair of cuffs on him all the while as he'd dragged Akihito grumbling and swearing to his personal tailor – who turned out to be Oda Hazumi. Go figure.
"Can you build Kevlar into his suits?" Akihito had blurted at her. He'd been answered by her exquisite, unearthly laugh.
Which was how Akihito had come to be in a suit, though sans shirt and noose, thank fuck for small mercies. He was wearing a dark long-sleeve tee, Hazumi had somehow managed to make it work under a sharp grey-blue suit. "I totally rock this!" he'd declared with some surprise. It didn't suit him, no. That pun was just too terrible.
There were fifteen guests, five couples accompanied by one aid each.
Not all of them looked traditionally formal or like ordinary businessmen. It was impossible to miss the flaming yakuza. The clichéd colourful oversized collars over pale suits and buzz cuts kinda gave them away. Akihito even spotted the odd pinkie shorter than was natural, smooth gnarled nubs from past 'apologies'. Ink leaped to life across the chest and neck exposed by half open shirts, works of art of stunning intricacy and colour.
Asami owned the place, a swanky business conferencing mansion nestled amongst mountains to the East of Tokyo. Suoh's men had scanned and frisked for weapons and all the serving staff were Asami's men in waiter uniforms so security was super tight, but it was still little comfort. Akihito would've preferred to streak naked through the place than to have walked in steered by Asami's hand on his back. Ok maybe not quite naked, but it was pretty fucking close. All because of the teeny tiny matter of the guests. Not that anyone had bothered to clue him in until Asami's men were sweeping open the double doors to let them in, of course. But the five couples weren't just yakuza. They were the Oyabun and ane-san ['older sister', address for the Oyabun's wife] of the five most powerful Yakuza "families" in the country.
And that large hand on his back told them all they needed to know about Akihito's position in the room. He might as well have worn a huge-ass crown on his head laden with jewels. Fabulous.
Akihito had tried to throw Asami the stink-eye 'cos seriously, would it have hurt to give him a bit of a heads-up here? There hadn't been time to give any lip let alone take it in. Every person in the room would have known about the previous bounty on Z4m4 M1r0, which meant they knew that Akihito was the one who'd landed the heads of the Daigoku and Junai clans behind bars, amongst various other equally 'traitorous' things from their point of view. They might be rivals but they were still compatriots cut of the same cloth. So it wasn't like Akihito was totally shitting himself here. Not at all. Right.
Not that Akihito was ever, in a million years, gonna give these mooks the satisfaction of seeing him all freaked out. Which explained his signature brashness. His usual bright spark was honed by fire and there was a pissed-off edge to him as he exchanged barbed greetings.
"It will be interesting having somebody new joining us ladies." That was one of the four women donning serious kimono, formal occasion black with traditional symbolism swishing brightly along the front. "Or will you be attending social functions with our husbands?"
The fifth woman in the room wore a pant suit, with killer outlines and killer heels and killer lips. She looked like a serial killer who'd stepped straight out of Kill Bill. "Don't mind her, of course a man can't join the ladies. Unless you fulfil the wifely role for Asami-sama?" she smiled. If a shark baring razor-sharp teeth could be considered to be smiling, that was.
Fine, she wanted to play? Akihito threw his own bitch smile. "Ah, that old chestnut, who really wears the trousers in the relationship? What about you? Can your man step up or do you find yourself naturally taking over?"
Serial Killer Lady regarded him anew as though trying to decide whether he really intended to insult both her and her husband, the Oyabun, in the same breath.
Asami glided beside him again, blanketing them all back in stilted civility. Akihito worried for a moment that he might have ruffled some big feathers and created a bit of a headache for Asami to handle –
But it literally only lasted a moment. Because that was when he happened to meet Asami's eyes.
Gleaming with laughter. Asami was practically pissing himself laughing inside! Akihito could read it clear as day, no matter how smooth the rest of his face might have been.
Akihito mentally floundered as it dawned on him. It had all been deliberate. Throwing him in amongst the pack of wolves or snakes or whatever it was the yakuza resembled, without warning, then leaving him alone. Suoh had been close at his back but that was only for physical back-up. Asami had wanted Akihito to be spurred into temper and obstinately standing his ground like a porcupine.
Annoyed and upset and riled that Asami had contrived it like this, he very nearly punched the bastard. He would have, if it didn't occur to him in the same breath that maybe Asami had known it was the best way to arm him. 'Cos for Akihito, Pissy Edge was his best weapon in this pit of black mambas. Pissy Edge was also edgey enough to keep him awake through the torturously banal conversation that followed about a new hobby in flower arranging that one of the ladies was having some existential crisis over whether to continue with or not...
Clearly business was off the table which sucked any hint of fun out of this "family" get-together. Either that, or they were having him on. Or maybe, just maybe, the top yakuza of the country were genuinely this mind-numbingly dull.
What a riot.
He didn't realize it could get worse until it did. The double doors opened and four suited men marched in and to the sides, to flank a – man? Yes, definitely a man, even with hair like that cascading like black silk all around his tailored Western suit accentuating his slim waist, his bewitching face somehow condescending and sultry at the same time.
All the yakuza in the room looked like they were itching for weapons they didn't have.
Dark eyes, all haughty and sensual and indifferent and hateful and seriously who the fuck was this guy? – swept the assembly, found Akihito, and stuck.
How totally bitchin'.
The gaze crawled up and down Akihito's length.
What's his problem? Belligerent, Akihito glowered back.
Drama Queen, as Akihito had already dubbed him, was blocked from view by a broad shoulder. Asami had stepped in front of him. It might have been one step but the gesture wasn't lost on any of them.
"Feilong," Asami drawled into the tense silence. "I didn't think you'd make it."
Feilong? Akihito wracked his brain. The name rang a bell.
Asami made no further move to go and greet the newcomer and Drama Queen was forced to make that concessionary step further into the room. He not only came forwards but slightly off to the side, coming back into Akihito's line of sight.
"How could I refuse, when the great Asami Ryuichi himself was so desirous of my company?"
The sarcastically melodious voice perfectly suited Drama Queen, though Akihito hadn't expected the faint accent. A foreigner? Chinese at a guess.
Drama Queen casually took in the suspicious faces all around. "Or do you just need my assistance in getting your dogs to heel?"
One of the yakuza aides jerked forwards but was held back by his Oyabun. Two of Feilong's men mirrored the threatening move, but were likewise signalled to stand down by the man on Feilong's right.
Asami merely smirked. "The way you model your brainless lackeys in Hong Kong? I'll pass."
Feilong waved an elegant brushoff. "I told you. It's just a matter of outward expression."
Akihito was trying his damndest not to react. Because as Z4m4 M1r0 he knew of most of the major players in Asia and Feilong and Hong Kong only meant one man.
Feilong turned to him. "Look at this pretty little thing."
Akihito's brow darkened. The fuck?
"So the sun finally rises in the West, Asami," Feilong sneered. "The way you were hiding him from me, I was beginning to think you feared I'd steal him from you."
"You do come up with the most amusing nonsense," Asami smirked, but his tone had bite. His hand was at Akihito's back again, both possessive and steadying. "My partner, Takaba Akihito." He glanced down at Akihito, gauging how close Akihito was to losing his rag. "Akihito, this is Liu Feilong."
Leader of Baishe or not, the fucker deserved payback. Akihito gave a cheery wave and feigned complete ignorance. "Hey, whassup. You one of Asami's flunkies?"
Pride was such an easy punch bag. Some of the yakuza sniggered.
Asami coughed. Like that fooled anybody.
"Care for a drink before dinner?" he offered smoothly. On the pretence of summoning Sagano who was acting as a waiter, he led Akihito away across to the open bar before the two could start a cat fight.
It was when the takoyaki [fried octopus dough balls which are a million times yummier than they sound!] came that it hit him. They'd had gourmet sushi, except it was two courses of it, which just wasn't done. They'd also had rounds of gyudon [beef on rice], yakisoba [stir-fried noodles] and okonomiyaki [savoury pancake with whatever meat or seafood of choice]. It was all cheap and cheerful fare, even if they'd been done the fanciest way in the history of Japanese street food. But no matter how much the dishes were dressed up, they were still comfort food of the commoners.
No way – Asami had arranged for all of Akihito's favourite foods! He watched these self-important mobsters trying not to pull weird faces at the highly unusual menu choice and offend their host, the haughty head of Baishe trying to delicately eat a takoyaki – which was plain impossible 'cos you just had to shove the whole ball in your mouth and just go with it with your cheeks bulging and getting sauce and mayo on your lips – and Akihito could barely hold his shit together.
He refused to look at Asami. He couldn't, 'cos he could feel those eyes gleaming with amusement and that would've been the last straw.
But then there were Pocky sticks sticking out of the ice cream and Feilong was tilting his head at it as though he had no idea what to make of it... Akihito lost it, dissolving into stitches.
"Hello, Goldilocks." Feilong managed to sound seductive and condescending and utterly indifferent all at the same time as he slipped into the empty seat beside Akihito.
"Hey, Drama Queen," Akihito greeted back without missing a beat. He saw Feilong's eyes narrow but really, what was the guy gonna do? Argue and prove how appropriate the moniker was?
As the shift in the air caught up with Feilong's arrival, Akihito had a whiff of incense and jasmine. He had the weirdest throwback to over a year ago – being crushed into the bed, Asami's face pressed to his neck, and learning all about the man named Asami Ryuichi. Was this the 'acquaintance' who could be sensitive and potentially dangerous for Asami?
Blond Tank had stepped close behind them, Akihito noticed, and not bothering to be subtle about it either. Asami was off holding court on the far side of the hall with several of the Oyabun, with Glasses at his elbow. Asami's gaze found him and checked Suoh's position, before returning to those milling around him with after-dinner drinks. Someone next to him was on the phone – and looking like he might faint.
Akihito had meant to keep himself out of the way here but people seemed to be taking it as an opportunity to steal a quiet word out of Asami's earshot. Serial Killer Lady had just been over too for more verbal sparring, and Akihito had been a bit put out until he'd realized that she was actually enjoying their barbed exchange. It wasn't too bad after that and they'd both been grinning when she'd left.
"Do you always have such poor manners in the company of your partner's associates?" Feilong sniped.
"I don't know," Akihito replied. His tone implied he really meant I don't care. "Who are his associates?"
The answer wasn't one that anyone should be putting voice to. Akihito had effectively shut him up.
Feilong's lips curved. "I can see the appeal." There was something in his voice. Part bedroom, part I'm carrying a gun and all I need is a target. What was in his eyes was worse. Akihito's skin crawled. "You're amusing."
And you're a creep. Akihito bit it back but judging by Feilong's sneer, the Baishe leader could guess at the none-too-flattering sentiment anyway.
"Careful," Akihito said lightly. "Asami might take exception if you find me too amusing."
"He does tend to be territorial, doesn't he?" Feilong mused like it was a common occurrence.
As if that bothered Akihito any. It went both ways anyway. But two could play this game and it was so easy to needle this man. "Oh? He owns you as well?"
Akihito could have so juiced it but he stopped there, not pushing too much, just in case. The guy was sensitive after all. He almost sniggered.
Feilong's expression hardened. He leaned in, but went no further; Suoh was close. "Your days are numbered. He's entranced with you for now but men like him, they go through toys like you until you're broken and spent and you'll be good for nothing but the whorehouse. If you're fortunate you'll be a mindless junkie without a care what ugly pig owns you or fucks you so long as you get your next hit."
Akihito drew back as though physically struck. Two men both running powerful crime syndicates, but how different could they be?
Was Feilong just testing or trying to drive a wedge? What Akihito and Asami had shared together, nothing and nobody could shake them now. It was pitiable, really, Akihito tried to tell himself, 'cos his guess was Feilong didn't have the first clue what that was like. But it was hard mustering much pity after such vitriol.
"Wow. I've met some pricks in my time but you're a fucking cactus."
Feilong's gaze hardened but Akihito had had enough of being a doormat. Besides, Suoh was bristling as though he wanted to leap in too, preferably fist first.
Akihito pushed to his feet. "I'd agree with you, but then I'd be just as monumentally, embarrassingly wrong as you are." He sauntered off without once looking back.
Feilong stared. It was one insolent thing after another, even though Goldilocks must have known who he was! But he could hardly go chasing after the scamp... As much as it galled him, he had to concede this round. Feilong arranged his face and limbs into casual disinterest.
He thought he'd been successful until he happened to catch Asami's eye. Even across the large room the arrogant smirk was unmistakable.
But it was underpinned by warning. Even for the Baishe there was a line that Asami wouldn't tolerate being crossed.
There was one Oyabun who still wasn't with the program.
There hadn't been any objections voiced but Asami didn't need words to know what was going through the man's head. It was one glance too many, the cold calculation of grisly ends and worse. Asami would know; he'd practically reinvented that look.
So the Oyabun received a phone call, buzzing in the man's pocket. Asami deliberately paused mid-sentence to draw the attention of all the Oyabun and aides gathered loosely around him.
"Don't let me keep you from any important calls," Asami drawled.
The Oyabun rushed to silence the call, grabbing the phone from his inside pocket. "I'm sure it's not urgent. I can take it later."
"Really, don't mind us. Go ahead."
Permission from Asami was as good as an order. The Oyabun moved with slow wariness as he answered and brought the phone to his ear –
A blood-curdling scream cut through the mike, so loud it screeched like speaker feedback. Everyone around them could hear it.
The Oyabun blanched, shocked to paralysis, the phone glued to his ear.
Seeing Feilong moving in on Akihito, Asami's gaze swept over them – Akihito was wary but not unduly concerned, Suoh less than a step away. Asami returned most of his attention to the shaken stillness around him.
The torn screaming carried on, and on, the stuff of nightmares, until it fell on a sob, dying to blubbering.
"Please! Please... I'll do it... I'll do it..." Broken and hoarse, between snivelling, rasping sobs. "I – I'm Shateigashira... former Shateigashira... Wakakajima... of the Nishizuma group... I – I beg... to pay... for all the wrong... I caused... Asami-sama... and Takaba-sama... Please... Please! Kill me already! Please! Please..."
The recording ended, throwing them into screaming silence.
The Oyabun knew Wakajima – used to know Wakajima. Cold, heartless, immune-to-torture Wakajima, the scar carved down half of his face worn as proof. At least, it used to be.
Feilong was leaning towards Akihito, clearly irritated, biting out words. Suoh inched closer but didn't intervene. Asami kept half an eye.
The Oyabun was shaking.
"Hmm? Anything important?" Asami mused.
"... Wr-wrong number," the man stammered. "It wasn't... for me..."
"Wasn't it?" Asami met his eyes dead on. "Good to know there are no missteps."
"No, Asami-sama. Certainly not."
There were no more calculating looks towards Akihito.
Who, incidentally, was now heading for the bar. Clearly words had been exchanged that bothered him, pushing him to subconsciously reinstate normalcy by bugging Suoh – "You're actually a total lightweight, aren't you? That's why I've never seen you drink, right?" – accompanied by a lot of shouldering. And the way Suoh broke from professional detachment, still keeping watch but coddling Akihito enough to very subtly, very lightly, elbow back, provoking a stumble and a laugh and renewed jostling – Suoh had also taken offence. Really, those two were like siblings sometimes, roughhousing in their own ways but without a doubt whose corner they fought when it came down to it.
The fact that Suoh hadn't signalled Asami meant it had been dealt with – most likely by Akihito, judging by how Feilong was desperately trying to pretend that he wasn't, as Akihito would have put it, on the verge of throwing a diva bitch fit.
It was what kept Asami on the right side of amused. For now. He would know the specifics later and would determine then if he was owed any reparation by the Baishe.
Asami's closing toast was simple and strikingly, frighteningly clear.
"I trust you found the evening as enjoyable as I have," he began.
Akihito snorted, hiding it poorly behind his fist.
"We begin this year with new prospects, new connections, following a year of adjustment after the Nishizuma group closed down."
Akihito blinked. Right, sure, throw that out there just like that, why don't you...
"More personally, my partner and I appreciate the cordial welcome you have extended him."
Ok, now Akihito was trying not to look at anyone.
"In many ways we have the hallmarks of a new era. The alliances between us are stronger than ever. Just as we have always enjoyed mutual generosity in times of good fortune, I know I can likewise count on your commitment, as we, as a group, all of us, carry the burdens of any hardships together. We do not act against each other. Neither do we turn a blind eye, for that is as good as a breach of trust. Good fortune or bad, our fate is of our own making. May we never again suffer the tragedy that befell the Nishizuma group."
Asami raised his glass. "Here's to the New Year and our health and prosperity."
Chairs scraped and clothing rustled as everyone rose to their feet. Akihito, the last to scramble up and crashing through the deafening silence as he almost knocked his chair over and Suoh had to right it for him, felt like the last to catch on.
This was why. Why Asami had considered it a smashing idea chucking Akihito into the shoal of piranhas. Because apparently an implied threat wasn't enough and it had to be official. Asami had effectively mobilized the Japanese Yakuza as Akihito's protection. And it didn't come as any surprise to the Baishe, if the exasperated-amused-aroused-indifferent-stilldefinitelyamused sneer on Feilong's face was anything to go by.
Wow. Shit. Shit.
They were all alternately bowing to each and every other person and drinking to the toast, Akihito registered vaguely, but mostly all he saw was... a... wink...?! Fucking hell, that was an honest-to-god wink that Asami gave him, dark eyes gleaming and fuck but Akihito could have so swooned right there. Fucking hell.
"I can't believe you made Feilong eat takoyaki!" Akihito laughed.
He looped out wide across the gravel driveway towards the limo parked further down. Multiple shadows moved alongside them, the guards ever vigilant.
"But I'm still mad at you. I'm never letting you drag me off anywhere without telling me what's going down, just so you know. 'Cos this was not cool. Capiche?" Akihito was determinedly ignoring the toast at the end where Asami pretty much Dark-Lorded over the East Asian underworld 'cos in no right mind should Akihito have been thinking that it was hot as hell.
"You handled it well. As I knew you would."
The amused pride warmed through Akihito. He scowled against it. "That's not the point. If you wanted me to insult all those hoity-toity bigwigs so much, you could've just told me that. I would've done so much better if I'd been geared up for it." He darkened. "Especially with that Feilong." His voice shifted as though every phrase was a different conversation. "If you're gonna try and be a smartass you have to be smart first, otherwise you're just an ass... You're mistaking me for someone who gives a shit... I'm busy, can I ignore you some other time?" Akihito grumped, "Yeah, it's all flowing now. Great."
Asami smirked darkly. "It's probably just as well it was toned down some. He may have taken exception with you in full stride."
"Cos he's sensitive, right?" Akihito's voice went into alternate mode again. "Someday you'll go far, and I hope you stay there." He slumped. "Ugh, stupid Drama Queen..."
"You're talking a lot about Feilong."
Akihito missed the careful blankness of Asami's remark. "He was annoying. You know what he's like. He's all, Ooh, look at me, I have supernatural hair and I can't decide if I want to kill you or fuck you so I'm just gonna make up crap like you're headed for junkie oblivion at the whorehouse." His voice was shaking by the end. He took a steadying breath. It wasn't steady. "I mean, I'm probably exaggerating. But he was still annoying."
They were approaching the limo. Asami hadn't said anything, which Akihito would have expected after blurting something like that. He glanced over – Asami's eyes were burning black and Akihito finally caught on.
"Uh..." His pulse thumped hot.
His ass had barely touched down when Asami was on him. The tongue hot and demanding, pushing him by the mouth across the leather seat, hands working fast on his clothes.
"Asami –!" Akihito half objected, half serious.
His suit jacket was yanked back regardless, trapping his elbows back.
"Phhhwait!"
Someone slammed the limo door shut, thankfully. Asami yanked open his button and flies.
"Asami!" That one was a bit shrill. Up front, either Glasses or Blond Tank hurried to raise the privacy screen as the limo drove away from the mansion. "Goddamnit, slow down!"
"You really expect me to wait another moment?"
Akihito was divested of his trousers and underwear. "Just hang on a second –!"
"After a comment like that?"
"Are you mad or just hornyyyyhhnnn...!"
Without any warning Asami's head was between Akihito's legs and the mouth was hot and wet on his dick, not quite a semi yet. Taking advantage of his floppiness, Asami swirled his tongue round and round and round as he sucked and sucked...
"Nnnnnhhhggg...!" Akihito found himself spreading his knees, pushing eagerly with his hips.
Asami wouldn't let up and in no time at all Akihito was fully erect, the arousal grabbing him fast and fierce.
Asami was driving him to completion with no sign of letting up but that wasn't any guarantee.
"If you don't... let me come..." Akihito was panting and writhing – "fuck..." But he was damn well going to get the words out. "I won't... let you... touch me... for a week!"
Asami didn't let up. In fact a finger slid into his ass.
"Oh guuuhhh..."
Where the hell did Asami get lube from? His fingers were slick and smooth and thicker – two fingers already. His mouth continued relentless. Three fingers – it burned as Akihito's muscle twitched and tensed against the too-fast intrusion. A deliberate groan sent vibrations along Akihito's hardness and then he was deeper, deeper down the throat and Asami was swallowing, hot fucking damn, and long fingers found the walnut core inside and Asami was stroking and swallowing and stroking and pressed –
Akihito erupted, a sudden burst that crested through, sucked down Asami's throat. He was still twitching in the descent when the jacket was yanked off his arms and his arms were freed and he was gathered into Asami's lap –
"Hhhaaaannggg...!"
From zero to coming and impaled, in two minutes flat.
Asami was too big and Akihito wasn't prepared enough and he was still spasming in the aftershocks and the entry stung, but he was full with Asami. After the showdown with Yakuza heads and Feilong too, it was almost a relief. Akihito thought he could understand the urgency that drove the crime lord, forcing all other thoughts aside.
He just breathed for a while as Asami held still, letting him adjust.
"You're such a fricking animal."
Akihito was amazed he could form the words because Asami's teeth were nipping along his ear and down his neck and all the charged bolts were seriously disrupting brain function.
"You love it really," Asami purred throatily and it went straight to Akihito's erection that was still going strong.
"Oh, I dunno," Akihito considered, hiding a grin, "you might have to persuade me some more. But it's cool, we can just sit here and talk if you don't have the energy."
Not that Akihito needed to provoke the horny, jealous bastard any but he knew how Asami got when he challenged like that aaaand... yep, there was the flash of the eyes, the smirk like the devil, the promise of heavenly agony and all the sweet desperate pleas to get there.
Much, much later in bed, Akihito was tumbling blissfully from post-sex haze to sleep, when he snapped awake.
"They were in the limo...!"
Asami's naked, muscley chest started shaking with silent laughter and Akihito didn't know whether to hide his flaming face against it or punch it.
He went with both.
It turned out that there was a reason for Mr Sour being sour. Aside from natural personality, that was.
"Which brings us here," Mr Sour summarized, after a whole spiel on leading a multidisciplinary team of developers, engineers, effects technicians, and graphic and sound designers, through every stage from planning, implementation, testing, release and ongoing operational monitoring, and consulting with psychologists, academics and medical professionals... "The Board has approved your appointment. We'd like to offer you a new position in EverEye World, as the Head of Software Engineering."
Akihito was pretty sure someone had hit Pause on his face.
Sion Global's new VR venture, with hundreds of millions already secured in funding on top of Sion's deep pockets, and it was going to have to be huge with that level of investment, and the Head of Software Engineering would be in the driving seat, and they wanted Akihito...?
So this was why Asami had been so smug that morning. Especially so. More than usual.
"Did – What did –" There was no polite way of asking Did Asami put you up to this? Akihito cleared his throat and tried another angle. "Who made the recommendation, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I did," Mr Thin and Mr Sour both answered at the same time. They exchanged a glance.
"We both did," Mr Thin said. "We interviewed a lot of promising candidates but we saw you in action during the consultation period. You impressed us with your candour, and not only your endless creative ideas and technical grasp, but also your insight with people, your sense of their skills and how to drive to their strengths."
"Surprisingly so," Mr Sour agreed reluctantly. "You were our top recommendation to the Board."
Akihito quirked a smile. "Surprisingly?"
Mr Sour was unapologetic. "Your age was a concern to some members of the Board, as well as, er, your dress code, but we see no grounds to say that anyone older or wearing a suit would be a better choice." He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact as Akihito grinned at the irony considering their first encounter in the Boardroom. "You're innovative. You have gumption. But you also have a complete lack of business acumen so you'll be reporting to me. We'll agree on development strategy together, striking the right balance between risk and return, then it'll be up to you and your team to deliver."
Akihito was serious all of a sudden, because he could do that too when it mattered. "But it's not all just stone-cold profit, is it? 'Cos if that's all it is, I'm out. Sion has a social and ethical responsibility to communities, not just locally but further afield. The clue's in the name, isn't it? Sion Global. Applications in things like healthcare and education might not be the biggest money makers but it has huge implications in supporting the planet's population growth and ageing demographic. Spin it as PR if you have to but surely we're big enough to cater for more than just spinning money."
The two serious men found themselves staring hard. They knew of Takaba's brilliant mind but it was a rare glimpse into the heart hidden in this young man – who today was wearing a top saying 'Sorry I'm late I didn't want to come'.
Mr Thin collected his thoughts first, and turned to his colleague.
Mr Sour was unreadable. Until he said, "You're prepared to back your case to the Sion Board with detailed proposals, I take it?"
Akihito grinned. Because that wasn't a No, which from Mr Sourface was a glowing endorsement. Finally, after over a year working together, Akihito was starting to get a handle on this guy. "Whatever you want, Shigura-san."
"Don't put this on me. It's entirely on your head."
Which was Mr Sour-speak for I'm backing you and the credit's all yours. "I'm touched. All those times you were poking holes you were actually testing me."
"Poking holes? I just like to be sure that whoever I'm speaking to is sure about what they're speaking about."
"And despite my 'complete lack of business acumen' and how much I wind you up, you still want to work with me? You flatter me, Shigura-san."
Mr Sour shook his head and got to his feet. "I may need to rethink this after all."
Akihito smiled wider. "Oh but think of all the paperwork and headache and hassle going back to the Board and all."
"It's almost worth it just to be rid of this insanity," Mr Sour mumbled as he left the room.
Akihito turned to Mr Thin. "Think I've won him over?"
Mr Thin was biting back a smile. "I think you'd best take the contract before he changes his mind. Read through it, sign them both, and return one to HR."
"Yes, sir," Akihito saluted.
"Asami-sama seemed keen to set up the new EverEye HQ on the 30th floor –"
"No! Impossible. Absolutely impossible."
Mr Thin gave him a look. "– but I suggested, in view of the reinforced structure and space and ventilation needed for industrial servers and for future collaboration with other industries such as robotics and all that that would entail, a purpose-built facility might perhaps serve better."
"Oh. And?"
"He agreed."
"Thank fuck. Uh, I mean, phew." Two floors down from Asami's office was never going to work, Akihito already had a hard time (ahem!) what with Asami's predilection for calling him up...
Akihito perked up. "I've got some ideas! We can go futuristic with a revolving walkway into a massive bullpen –"
"Oh, here we go –"
"– and it's all gotta be white 'cos future stuff is always white for some reason, and we also need one of those useless holograms of the globe with a load of text that's always moving but actually shows nothing but it looks cool, right? And –"
"And there is such a thing as a budget and a Board of Directors who holds the purse strings and a contract you still need to sign."
"Right. I just hope it doesn't say I have to wear a suit."
Mr Thin smiled. "Shigura-san himself had HR add a clause to allow you whatever dress code of your choice."
"He did?"
"He knows a dealbreaker when he sees one."
Akihito grinned. "Sweet."
And so there he went, upon completion of his court-ordered community service for misdemeanour computer trespassing where he'd targeted Sion and Asami, to full-time employment. Working... (indirectly)... for... Asami...
Akihito's head thumped down – on his new (temporary!) desk fitted out with multiple 4k monitors and top spec machines on the 30th floor of the Sion HQ tower which was where the 'Board' (a.k.a. Asami!) had ordered EverEye HQ to reside until their own design facility was built...
"Shit. I did not think this through..."
It always took a few seconds for Akihito to bring himself to open these emails. As usual they jumped right in without any attempt at a greeting.
Did you know they've got me working on fixing these ancient lumps of plastic and metal they pretend are computers? Like I didn't have my fill of the Helpdesk when I was at Sion. But it was that or laundry duty. Whatever will I do with so much excitement.
There had been a bunch of these now, short snarky snippets here and there. Supervised messages from inside. Glimpses of a colourless life.
Akihito blinked as another message came in barely minutes after the first. That was new. There had only been one at a time before, usually weeks apart.
I look like a tool in my jumpsuit. You'd love it. Come laugh at my expense some time.
Another first. There had never been any mention about a visit before. It was usually all just passive-aggressive bitching about this and that and rotas and the therapist. There were never any questions about Akihito but he'd long supposed that sending any emails at all was a way of reaching out.
But a visit? Fuck that. No way.
Almost half an hour later, a third email came in.
Sorry for all the shit, Takaba.
Akihito stared. And stared some more. Read it several times to be sure.
He sighed long and heavy, because he was already trying to think where to get hold of some teenage romance books 'cos Mitarai would probably hate them the most and Akihito had a feeling he was probably going to end up visiting a tool in a jumpsuit before too long.
"Waitwaitwait – lemme get this straight. You, want me, to help you. To help you. As in, you –"
"Yes, I get it already! You never saw this day coming, you never thought I'd be humble enough to ask for help, blah blah. I get it. Can we just grow up please?"
Akihito narrowed his eyes, his head tilting. "No, you don't get it. You threatened to have me shivved. You said you were gonna dance on my grave. You've been out to get me from the start and tried to use me to get to Asami. Why the fuck would I help you?"
Sakazaki glared. "I've been demoted all the way to re-training at the bottom of the ladder thanks to you!"
"Nuh-uh, you seriously don't get it at all 'cos what I just said? All of it? That's on you, you dicksmack."
Sakazaki pinched his brow. "Look, I just need... I need something, alright? They won't let me re-qualify unless I can prove myself."
"And you thought a big bust courtesy of the guy you threatened to throw in jail and have killed would do the trick?" Akihito laughed, shaking his head. "That's a good one." He waved in parting. "Have fun with that re-training. Looks like you'll be enjoying it for a long, long time."
He slammed the meeting room door behind him and the smile fell off his face. He stomped down the corridor, ducked into an office, and just breathed for a few seconds. Pacing, pacing some more, he let the anger out.
Eventually he dropped into a tired old chair, the cracked leather catching on his jeans. With a blustery sigh, he turned to Yamazaki watching him from behind the cluttered desk.
"So I've got my answer. Here's how it's gonna be. Show me the official warrant and I'm your man. Even if some sleazebag thinks they've destroyed evidence, I might still be able to dig something up so give me a holler. But everything's gotta be on the books. I won't be responsible for another Tsubasa. Even indirectly," he added, waylaying the detective before he could point out the same argument again. "I'm keeping my record clean."
That was a must, being close to Asami. At least officially. Yamazaki would know that too.
"That's more than I could've hoped for. I appreciate it, kiddo."
"If it's something for Dick 1, though, see if you can find someone else. I mean, I wouldn't obstruct an investigation, but I'd rather not help that jackass if I can."
"I was going to anyway."
"Yeah." Akihito heaved another sigh. He glanced around the teetering piles of case files, the cabinets lined with more of the same and folders and several sealed boxes, cluttered all around. A smidgeon of green hiding behind a book caught his eye – a cactus the size of his fist, more thorns than flesh. It didn't seem to have grown much in five years but it was still there.
"What a shit hole. I thought you only moved in here last week, Chief Inspector?"
"Shut up, punk. Not everyone gets a swanky high-rise office, you know."
Akihito grinned. "Wait till you see my state-of-the-art design lab next year." He swung back onto his feet. "I'll get you another plant. As, uh, an office-warming present."
"Don't bother. I'd just end up killing it."
"The last one's doing ok. We could maybe branch out to an air plant this time." Halfway out the door, Akihito lingered, gripping the doorframe. "Give Dick 1 hell, Yama-san."
There was a pause behind him. Olive branch and tentative trust, second chances – so many things implied in the simple request and the familiar moniker. Akihito knew none of them would be lost on the seasoned detective.
Neither cared that Yamazaki's grin was rather inappropriate for his senior position. "Oh, you can count on that, don't you worry."
They drove for nearly two hours. Half an hour in, they'd ditched the limo, transferring to a nondescript blue sedan in an empty tunnel.
"Yeah, 'cos this isn't shady at all," Akihito had said flatly. "Where are we going?"
Asami continued to be stubbornly uninformative. "You'll see," was all he'd said as a guard had quickly driven off with the limo as though they hadn't just switched vehicles.
Another hour and they hopped into a white car on a deserted mountain road. Then it was just the two of them and Glasses and Bond Tank, and from the outside they looked no different to the next car out there.
"So you remember how I said I wasn't gonna let you drag me off to god knows where without telling me what it's about? Or has your memory totally slipped? That was only last month, you know."
It wasn't even the suspicious-as-hell switching of cars that was giving Akihito the heebie-jeebies. It was Asami. He wasn't smirking or eyeing Akihito up like the finest dish or threatening people on the phone, which for Asami amounted to weirdness of the the-world-is-ending end of the scale. He'd spent most of the succession of car journeys quietly staring out the window.
Still watching the ramrod straight barks of the Japanese red cedar rushing by, Asami just gave the same reply. "You'll see."
Clearly Akihito needed to poke harder. Much harder. With a jousting lance, 'cos why not. "Which is what? A nice patch in the middle of nowhere where you give me a shovel and a bullet?"
Finally, result. Asami threw him an unimpressed look.
Akihito rolled his eyes. Dumbass. "Like you need to go to such elaborate lengths to make me disappear," he said. No, he wasn't crazy joking about this kind of thing. Asami wouldn't hurt him and Akihito knew that. Or maybe that was its own brand of insanity. So sue him, he was happy.
Asami wanted to roll his eyes too, Akihito just knew it.
"Where are we going?" he repeated for the hundredth time. At least it wasn't Are we there yet? on endless repeat – though if Asami kept this up for much longer he could well find himself on the receiving end of that incessantly charming irritation.
The car drew to a stop.
"Here." Asami opened the door himself before Glasses could get there and stepped out.
Blond Tank got Akihito's door because he was still sitting there. He hadn't expected that.
"Sorry, thanks," he mumbled and almost tripped as he rushed to follow. Asami was disappearing along the roughly beaten path through the majestic trees and up the mountain.
"Wow."
Breaking through the abrupt boundary of the towering red-cedar forest, Akihito stumbled upon the valley rolling away from them. Nestled between steep mountains, a small brook wove with the path, meandering between the swathe of bare cherry trees. There was an old teahouse tucked aside halfway down, and further down he could see the edge of a stone torii [Japanese gate] half disappearing back into the forest. Birds fluttered here and there but otherwise there wasn't another soul in sight.
It was already stunning on the tail end of Winter. It would be something else in the Spring with the entire valley filled with cherry blossoms.
Akihito jammed his hands in his jacket pocket, exposed to the cold wind without the trees around him but enjoying the view too much to move away. He inhaled a big lungful. And another. The air was crisp with Winter and the purity that only came with being so deep in the mountains.
He finally glanced around and found Asami a little ways off to the side, sitting on a stone bench overlooking the valley. Blond Tank and Glasses had made themselves scarce.
"Ok, I'll let you off this time," Akihito said as he went over and plonked himself down alongside. They were more sheltered here and it felt a couple of degrees warmer just being out of the wind. He nudged shoulders. "This is pretty awesome."
Quiet answered him.
Akihito chewed his lip. "You ok?"
Still not saying a word, Asami reached inside his jacket... and pulled out a box. A small cube of a box. He lifted the top half that formed the lid and held it, open, on his leg.
Asami let him gape at it for a full minute. Because it took that long to remember how to speak.
"That's –" Akihito rasped...
A brushed silver band, trimmed with gleaming jet black edges was what it was. It was... It was...
"Titanium."
Akihito mentally tripped, and burst into breathless laughter.
A ring. A ring. Masculine without being bulky. But still, a fricking ring! And titanium? The meaning wasn't lost on him. He thought he glimpsed something glinting on the inside.
"For you, Akihito, I'll go down on my knee anytime." There was a smirk playing at Asami's lips.
Akihito glowed. At a time like this?!
But the playfulness disappeared as Asami did just that. Taking the ring, looming large and sliding down on bended knee, with all the grace of a jungle cat, ensnaring Akihito with a fire that would never relinquish him.
"The greatest strength, the greatest weakness, all that we need and desire – it's everything. There will never be another as what we have." Asami's hand closed over Akihito's, warm and resolute while Akihito's trembled. "We were bound from the beginning, you and I. We will always be bound. I have never wanted anyone, as I want you. Or anything, as I want us." The ring was the promise, a tangible eternity. "Be mine Akihito, for however many lifetimes as may be."
"Oh fuck..." Akihito croaked, his throat tight. "Yes. I mean yes! Fuck – can we do that again?"
But Asami was coughing on a choked laugh and sliding the band onto Akihito's ring finger, nudging passed the knuckle, and Akihito was being crushed in steel arms, and he soon forgot about fumbling his reply.
Still on his knee, Asami pressed his face to Akihito's neck. Then came the quietest word in the history of all words, caressed on less than a hint of a breath, the whisper of salvation.
"Akihito."
Reverent, fearful, worshipful, it sounded so much more like I love you.
Akihito blinked furiously 'cos damn, it was too much... He tried to look at Asami, his arms tight about the strong neck, wanting to be closer, closer, but wanting to drown in those pools of gold.
"Only you, Ryuichi."
Akihito would never forget Asami's face in that instant, all his emotions flayed bare, before they crashed in a kiss so fierce that it hurt.
Much like how they'd met. Kou had thought they'd 'just sort of clicked' but that wasn't it at all. They hadn't so much clicked as collided and burst into brilliant fireworks, lighting the loneliest corners of their souls.
Gazing out over the valley, there was a different sort of quiet about Asami now. Contented. Had he actually been nervous before? Akihito swallowed the urge to tease and played with the ring.
Matt titanium. Trimmed with black titanium, Asami had told him.
It made sense now, all the undercurrent at the Meet. The whole set-up had been designed to further ensure Akihito's safety for when they were officially tied. A memory floated into mind – the ruined dockyards across the bay, Akihito not even being allowed to entertain the thought that Asami would be stronger without him – 'No more deaths. There are other ways.' How long had Asami been planning this?
Akihito slipped the ring down, keeping it around the tip of his finger still. He didn't want to take it off, feeling like it might break the connection somehow. So it might be silly but it wasn't every day that he got engaged. Engaged! He could've sworn a part of his brain was still melted mush...
Huh? A diamond? He peered around his finger – there was a single diamond embedded flush on the inside of the ring, hidden from the world but glinting at its heart. Perhaps Asami saw Akihito in that. But the one Akihito saw was Asami.
There were cursive letters A and R engraved on either side of the diamond too. He ducked his head to hide the small smile he couldn't fight, pushing the ring on again.
"Don't you get a ring?" Akihito pulled a face at his own question. "D'uh, says the person who hasn't got you one. I'll get you one. Uh – I mean, if you'd wear one, that is. Would you wear a ring?"
Asami chuckled at his babbling. "Do you want me to wear one?"
"'Course. Why not?"
"Everyone will know."
"...Oh..." It was like a flashbulb going off. The public, numerous business partners, not-so-legal associates, anyone and everyone would be curious as all hell the moment they learned that one of the – if not the – top billionaire bachelor in Japan was tying the knot. And the fact that it was a same-sex relationship would only fuel the gossipmongers further.
But in the same token, everyone would know. Akihito still got plenty shy and embarrassed about all sorts of things that Asami took an inordinate amount of devilish pleasure in teasing him about, but Akihito wasn't embarrassed about the two of them. He was sensible enough to know that he probably couldn't grasp the full implications just yet, but –
"Let them. We'll handle it, right?" Akihito's grin was confident until a thought occurred to him. "Unless... you don't want everyone to know?"
Asami's reply was to produce a second box.
Akihito opened it to find another ring. "You so did want to wear a ring!" It was Akihito who took it out this time, a relieved laugh bubbling out from him.
It was a bigger size but otherwise no thicker or wider, the mate to his own – a jet black band running in the middle where Akihito's was brushed silver, trimmed with matt silver where Akihito's was black. There was even the same diamond inside, bookended elegantly with A and R.
It felt... right. It was them.
And absolutely impossible to miss that they were matching. "You might as well have stuck a great big sign over our heads saying Property Of Each Other."
"Rings are less cumbersome," Asami deadpanned. "Besides, why wouldn't I? YOLO, wouldn't you say?"
There was a frozen moment before Akihito spluttered, "YOLO? Did you seriously just say YOLO? You're about fifty years too old to be saying YOLO... And you're not mean to say it... Do you even know what it means?"
"You only... live once."
The subtle pause, the emphasis – "Holy baloney, love? That's what you meant, right? You weren't even gonna say live! Oh my god, if anyone found out how cheesy you were at heart, you'd never live it down!" His eyes grew round. "The big cheese!" He doubled over with renewed laughter.
Asami smirked. He held up his hand, turning it front to back to front to back. "If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it –"
"Argh! Stop! Too much!"
It took a while before Akihito could scramble back from where he'd almost fallen off the bench, wiping his eyes. It was probably a lot to do with all the supercharged elation as well, it was all too much to contain. "Don't tell me you've been catching up on pop culture or something?"
"Only the classics."
"You're killing me..."
Asami just smirked.
The second ring had warmed in Akihito's hand by now. His laughter ebbed away as he stared at it. He could feel the weight of it, not just the physical ring, but all that it signified – his own claim on Asami for all the world to see.
Hazel eyes lit with determination and mischief and a spark of nerves as Akihito went down on one knee. "What? You can't just put it on," he defended at the surprised look. "You need to accept it properly, which means I need to propose too. Even if you're the one who brought me here... and bought the ring..."
Asami huffed a soft laugh.
Akihito raised the ring with a flourish. And promptly stalled. "Uh..." Maybe he'd been too optimistic. He didn't have a speech. He didn't do speeches. He was more of a rambler, blurting out whatever and –
"Just say whatever comes to mind," Asami suggested as though he could hear the internal monologue. He looked amused already.
"But –"
"Honestly."
"Honestly? That would be, you're arrogant and overbearing and your ego knows no bounds and you always just do whatever the hell you want and..." Akihito cut off, holding his breath for another moment longer before letting it bleed out into the wind. Quiet, earnest, he searched the steady gold. "And you let me in. ...And I don't want to be anywhere else. Will you marry me?"
Akihito grimaced, his face hot, but Asami's eyes were doing that intense blazing thing. "See? You did just fine," he murmured, his voice deep and warm as he brushed Akihito's right cheek. "Now what was it again – fuck, yes, yes, fuck –"
"Oh, shut up," Akihito laughed, grabbing the hand off his face on his way back to his feet and nudging the ring onto the ring finger. "At least I asked you to marry me. You just went all rumbly with your Be mine, grrrr."
"I can propose again if you like. Akihito, will you always take me in your most sacred place –"
"Aaaargh!" Red to his ears, Akihito slapped his hand over Asami's mouth. "That is not a proposal! Nyaah!" He yelped as Asami licked his palm. Snatching his hand back only revealed a shit-eating smirk as Asami tumbled him into his lap. Sitting sideways, Akihito wiped his hand on Asami's jacket in revenge. And again. And again – ah, who was he kidding, he just slapped it on there and gave a bit of a nudge but left his hand there. "Just remember it goes both ways. You're mine too and don't you forget it."
"Haven't you realized yet, Akihito?" Asami tipped up his chin. "You had me at... Wow you work weird hours."
Then Asami was trying to kiss him but mostly missing because Akihito was laughing too much.
Asami gave up with mock exasperation. "Hopeless brat."
"Movie references too?" Akihito said as he tried to catch his breath. "For real?"
Asami grabbed him and set him on his feet.
"Aww, don't be like that." Akihito might have pouted just the littlest bit.
Asami smacked his butt.
"Y-oww!"
"Come on," Asami said, setting off into the valley. "There's someone you need to meet."
Akihito glanced around as he rubbed his ass. "What, here?" He rushed after Asami again, very much feeling the ring on his finger as he skidded down the compacted gravel path. "Can you even walk in those shoes?"
Down beyond the old teahouse, the torii [Japanese gate] led into the towering trees to ishidoro [stone lanterns] and statues, which in turn led to a grave fit for a feudal lord.
A stone border marked the impressive stone monument, solid slabs rising up with a sphere balanced in there too and the ornate pagoda-shaped crown. Everything was made of grey granite, watched over by the ancient red-cedar, shielded from the world, a resting place of utmost peace.
Akihito turned aside at the odd repetitive creaking sound. Asami was pumping the handle of an old-fashioned well. Water spurted from the spout after a while and he filled two buckets sitting by the well. Akihito met him half way, taking one of them as they carried them and the bamboo ladles over to the grave.
They worked quietly together. This was far more elaborate and private than the tightly clustered graveyards commonly dotted around the country, but the process of cleaning, pulling weeds, and washing the stone down was the same. Someone, probably Glasses or Blond Tank, had already brought bundles of cuttings from the evergreen sakaki tree, considered sacred, and placed them ready for arranging at the base of the grave. Incense and matches were in a waterproof box in a nearby stone lantern. Asami took three sticks, lit and extinguished them, and set them in the stone incense holder. The wind stole away the scented smoke.
Akihito hung back as Asami stood in front of the grave.
"Come here, Akihito."
"Uh..." It felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Because this wasn't the biological mother. This was the one who'd become Asami's mother, the one that mattered.
"I brought you here, you're not intruding. Now, come here."
Was he that obvious? Akihito edged forwards and found himself hauled right alongside.
Asami was silent a while. At length he glanced at Akihito, then back at the monument. "Mother, I want you to meet Akihito..." A frown creased his brow as he looked down.
Akihito hesitated, but as clouds gathered in Asami's gaze, he reached for the large hand. Just a finger, just a touch... Asami grabbed his whole hand, interweaving their fingers. Asami's thumb found Akihito's ring and started twisting it round, part absent-minded, part focus.
"It's been 24 years now, the same age as he is."
Akihito blinked.
"If he hadn't already been born when you were killed, I might have thought you'd sent him to me, fated to be together." Asami smiled faintly. "But when it comes to Akihito it wouldn't have mattered. Destined or not, I was going to have him."
Akihito's eye-roll would have found voice – loudly – if they hadn't been standing where they were.
"You didn't always approve of what I did, but against the world you always had my back, even if I was in the wrong, even if you were mad at me afterwards. You understood me. You accepted me as I was. Akihito is the same." Asami's gaze lifted, unwavering. "Remarkable as it is, even after everything, he still stands with me and takes me as I am. I'd lay waste to the Earth to keep him, and keep him safe. There's no walking away, for either of us. For all that he'll call me a domineering bastard, and he's not wrong, the one who was lost from the beginning is me."
Asami squeezed the hand frozen in his.
"When you adopted me you made me promise two things. The first was easy, I have always looked out for Hazumi. You knew I would even if you hadn't asked. But the second – to let myself find my own happiness... I laughed at you then, but you understood far more than I did. That's been harder. Impossible really, until now. I can finally fulfil that promise." Still looking at the grave, his mind was light-years away. "You would have liked him, Mother."
Asami took a breath, refocused on the present. "I won't be coming on your anniversary for a while. Routines are dangerous and I can't risk it. Not anymore. I know you'll understand."
Releasing Akihito's hand, Asami knelt to the ground, sitting back on his heels. Hands pressed together, he bowed his head in prayer.
When he stood, his face was at peace. "Until next time, Mother."
Was it a tear that Asami had brushed away?
Akihito vaguely remembered leaning into that large hand. "Can I have a minute?"
Which was how Akihito came to be standing here alone.
"Uh... Hello, I guess. I don't make a habit of talking to graves so I'm not really sure what I'm doing..." He rubbed at the back of his neck, not knowing how to start. He swiped his palm across where it still felt wet in the corner of his eye. "It feels like I've been crying a lot lately," he said awkwardly, but then he remembered what a large portion of those tears had been about and blushed furiously.
"I so hope you can't see into my thoughts 'cos... well..." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, moving swiftly on. I, uh, I just... I wanted to say I think I understand. Asami told me about... lots of things, and I think I see what you knew, in that warehouse, when you chose him as the one to save. He's kinda like a fortress, isn't he? He keeps nearly everyone out, but he lets in just a few, and for them he's got a great big roaring furnace that keeps us warm and safe and... He said it was remarkable I was still with him, but it isn't really. It isn't at all. No one's done what he's done for me... What I'm trying to say is that I know he has a heart. Sometimes I think he doesn't think he does, and he can be ridiculously arrogant and smug and big-headed and stubborn and all, but he does. And I wanted to promise that I'll do everything I can to keep it safe. I..."
Blushing crimson, Akihito stared at his feet. "I've fallen for him so hard it's terrifying. And I know no one lives forever, and he..." He scrunched up his face, shook it off. "Yeah, let's not go there. What'll happen will happen. But every day we have is a day we wouldn't have had if you hadn't been there for him all those years ago. So thank you. And... it's kinda hard to ask permission when, uh, you're not exactly here, but... well... can you entrust him to me? Do we have your permission?"
He chewed his lip. "I guess I have to take signs from the universe for your answer. Maybe the 24 years is a sign?"
The wind shifted, wrapping him in the scent of incense.
"Or maybe that," he said, smiling a little, feeling the peace of the mountain and the grave.
Akihito knelt and put his hands together. His prayer was short but heartfelt.
At the crest of the valley, Ryuichi displayed no surprise as Hazumi stopped beside him. They were supposedly watching the spectacular view but it was the blond head in the distance that they were both following, as Akihito spoke to their mother.
Asami said casually, "We're getting married."
"Good for you."
Asami turned to regard her. He didn't fill the silence, waiting for her to explain her tone, petulant almost.
Eventually, she said, "My only brother is doing the inconceivable of getting hitched but there's an excellent reason why he didn't consult me on the choice of ring, I'm sure."
Of course she'd spotted him wearing the ring. Asami managed not to smirk. She would have eviscerated him for it. "Are you sulking?"
"At my age? It's hardly appropriate." But she really was. She blew through her lips. "Well, let me see it, then."
He made no move to show her but allowed her to lift his hand.
She peered at it. "That's not platinum."
He did smirk this time. "It's titanium." His amusement broadened at her horrified face. "You wouldn't understand."
Her sharp eyes and mind drew their own conclusions. "It's like that, is it?" she remarked, though her edges had softened. She turned the ring this way and that before letting go. "So you're the dark surrounded by his light. He has the counterpart, I take it?" She gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, if you're so loved up that you even have your own couple jokes, who am I to say anything untoward. You have my blessing, my dear Ryuichi."
He looked at her strangely. "That's it? No third degree? You realize he'll be taking the Asami name."
"Does he realize that yet?" she teased. "He'll wear it well."
"You're very relaxed about this."
A cryptic smile crept across her face. "You can tell a lot from one's friends."
"... What?"
Hazumi's laugh was a sprinkling of fairy dust. "Oh, even I can keep some secrets, no matter how closely you keep watch." She leaned on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure you'll enjoy all the perks of married life." With a wink she glided away, weaving her way down the path.
"...What friend?!"
Akihito was huffing slightly from marching back up the hill. He looked up, his nose pink from the cold, wearing that look of dazed alarm as he always did after encountering Hazumi.
"Your sister, I just passed her at the teahouse. She, uh... congratulated us."
Asami hummed noncommittally, something sharp in his gaze as he studied Akihito.
Akihito's eyes flickered as he tried to think what Asami was getting at. He came up blank. "What?"
After a moment Asami shook his head. He traced Akihito's cheek, addicted to the flush that his touch never failed to induce. His smugness must have shown, for Akihito jutted his jaw, tipping his head in a Yeah, so what? kind of expression. Always cheeky, always challenging.
Asami looked forward to the next reaction. "Ready to go see your parents?"
Akihito's face flipped through the equivalent of panicked gymnastics.
Asami let the laugh break free.
Sushi God B-) So u guys are coming to my yuinou, right?
There went the cat, well and truly sauntering out the bag, seemingly all nonchalant as though Akihito's heart wasn't trying to thump out of his chest.
Yuinou. The engagement ceremony that made an engagement an engagement. Every engaged couple had one. Social status usually dictated what they could get away with – for a billionaire businessman moonlighting as Japan's top crime lord, expectations would be sky high for a lavish event with every damned acquaintance under the sun. But Akihito was banking on Asami not giving a damn about that if he decided otherwise, hopefully that 'otherwise' being what Akihito could stomach – just a small dinner with immediate family. Which would be his parents, and Akihito's best buds too 'cos they were basically family, as well as Glasses and Blond Tank, Akihito had decided already, 'cos they were practically family, and Mori Baachan and Jiichan had to come 'cos his surrogate grandparents had pretty much unofficially adopted Asami too. He started thinking about Sagano and Nakatani as well who'd morphed into part of Akihito's shadow but then he wasn't sure where the personal/professional line lay... So just some good food, and exchange of rings 'cos there really was no getting away from that – or re-exchange of rings, seeing as they were already wearing them. What about Hazumi? Would she come? Could she even? Maybe she could just 'happen' to bump into them, without revealing her relation to Asami – but oh shit oh shit oh shit what if it was really her that Kou had hooked up with –
Dorayaki King WTF!?
Spew WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Dorayaki King dafuuuuuuuuuuuq
Spew UR GETTING MARRIEEEEED?!
Dorayaki King THIS
Dorayaki King IS
Dorayaki King SO
Dorayaki King FUCKING
Dorayaki King AWESOMEEEE
Dorayaki King !
Dorayaki King [pink heart] [pink heart] [pink heart] [pink heart] [pink heart]
Spew Can't believe u got there before me!
Dorayaki King I knew
Dorayaki King I totally knew
Dorayaki King Aki-chan's in luuuuurrrrrvvvee
Dorayaki King [two men kissing with pink heart] [two men kissing with pink heart] [two men kissing with pink heart] [two men kissing with pink heart] [two men kissing with pink heart] [two men kissing with pink heart] [two men kissing with pink heart]
"Oh man..." Biting his lip did nothing to stop the grin. Akihito buried his glowing face into Asami's pillow as his phone continued to flash and bleep long into the night.
