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Chapter Two: The Confrontation

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What brings you to Beijing?

Leon wants to scream. He can't imagine why he hasn't yet.

"Detective?"

Such a polite tone, so detached, and not worried at all, though he should be. Leon can't believe he was such a fool.

There is a rustle of cloth as D moves to stand just in front of him, covering Leon's vision with black and red and white. Leon's eyes travel slowly upward to meet mismatched ones, but wander away again after seeing the coolness there. He would give anything to see them soften, to hear that voice ask him once again to stay forever. Anything for it not to be a joke, an empty promise of what could be.

He hears a strange sound as something repeatedly touches the hardwood floor, and then T-chan moves into his line of sight. He stares at the goat creature, remembering the attractive boy he saw briefly on the ship. He wants D to explain, but knows there are more important things to be said. He just doesn't know if it's worth the effort.

D's voice startles him.

"Detective, do say something. Your silence is quite unnerving." In fluid movements, he lowers himself onto the couch next to Leon, keeping a distance between them that Leon is certain has never been there before. He doesn't tuck his legs underneath himself and turn his body sideways the way he used to, on those days when Leon would sit there with blood on his hands, seeking reassurance, needing someone to tell him that it wasn't his fault. No, this time his posture is prim and proper, though he certainly isn't dressed for it. One hand, slightly above his breastbone, is clutching together the thick fabric of his robe. The garment is only just managing to cling to the curves of his pale shoulders, and Leon fights to urge to grab them, to yell into his face that this isn't okay, that he needs the old D and he needs him now, because he's never felt so lost.

But the words never form, he's so horribly calm. Perhaps that's why D hasn't offered him tea.

"German doughnuts," he says finally, indicating the box on the table with an indelicate movement of his foot. "For you. Five days old. Throw them out if you like."

He sees D's hand reach for them, quick and excited, but then he pulls back.

"You certainly did not need to bring me anything."

"I'm aware of that," Leon answers flatly, regarding the box. There is a pause, and out of the corner of his eye, Leon can see D worrying the hem of his robe. T-chan, apparently bored, turns around to sniff the doughnuts before retreating to the other side of the room.

"Perhaps you should leave," D says suddenly, causing Leon's head to whip around in surprise.

"You're throwing me out?" Now he feels a little less calm. He jumps to his feet, tossing Pon-chan unceremoniously onto the couch. Both of his hands move up to his forehead and run frantically through his hair. They stay behind his head for a moment as he thinks, and then move outward, into a gesture of annoyance.

"Fine!" he says angrily, his voice rising at last. "You know what? Fine! I'll go. But before I do, before I go fly over the fucking ocean again, you will answer my questions." He can see that D is about to argue, so he points a warning finger at him and jumps right in. "Why did you come here? Tell me."

There is a pause, until at last D lets out a small, resigned breath and gazes at him from under dark lashes. "As you wish, Detective," he says, lips forming that artificial smile that never fails to delight the clientele. Having that smile turned on him is worse than being shot. Worse than falling out of an airship. "To answer your question, I came to Beijing because China has not yet signed an extradition treaty with the states."

That isn't what Leon meant at all. "I meant, why did you leave?"

D looks at him with amusement, as though the answer is obvious. "I left, my dear Detective, because I did not want to be arrested by your FBI." D's eyes are laughing at him, and Leon curses just to make them harden.

"Don't fucking lie to me, D. You couldn't have known the FBI was interested in you until after you left the first time. Why the fuck was your shop deserted?"

D doesn't answer right away. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but closes it again after only a moment. His mismatched eyes go unfocused, and he seems to be staring right through Leon rather than at him. When he speaks, the smile is there, but his voice is unreadable.

"It was time for me to move on."

That unfocused stare is unnerving, and Leon moves just to avoid it. "What do you mean, move on? Why was it time?"

D's gaze lands on him again, but it's distant. He's hiding, and Leon can feel it.

"It came to my attention that certain situations were becoming decidedly unhealthy. I felt it best to leave."

Leon doesn't know what the hell D's talking about, and isn't sure he'll get more than vague answers anyway. So he drops it, and moves on to the rather more important part.

He struggles to find the words.

"Look… I know you didn't want me on your ship, D." He can still feel those long fingers pressed against his chest, the wind against his body as he fell—and the contradiction of tears in D's eyes, but who knows what that meant? "But—but why didn't you tell me where you were going? And the first time—" He closes his eyes, swallows, trying not to picture those empty rooms. "The first time you disappeared—why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Empty rooms. Empty rooms. No car to chase after, just empty rooms. He remembers Harry, the hundreds of words left unsaid. Remembers the dreams, where the mere thought of losing D was worse than the real loss of his childhood friend. Knows what that means.

Knows he has to say it this time.

D's eyes are studying him, and his lips are forming a frown. He looks worried now, as though he's put the pieces together. Leon thinks it's about damn time—he wants D to know exactly what he's done, what awful parallels he has made. They are both quiet for a moment, Leon's question hanging in the air, but D doesn't seem to know what to say. So Leon takes a deep breath and tries to force out the words. He didn't come to China for nothing.

"Look," he says, moving closer, crossing his arms. "I know you're immortal, or whatever the hell it is, and I know you've got these weird animals, and I know you don't like humans much, okay? But none of that means you can just disappear without even giving people a chance to say the stuff they need to. That ain't right." The conversation trails into silence now, because he's losing his nerve. The idea that D would even care—it's so foolish. The man is immortal. He left without a goddamn word…

"Mr. Detective…" D's voice breaks through the quiet, and his eyes are softer. Leon feels a surge of hope. "I did try to warn you. But you were in such a mood, and I did not want an argument." He tilts his head to the side, regarding Leon suddenly with what seems to be affection. Leon's chest loosens slightly, and a rather stupid smile comes across his face in spite of his desire for it not to. "Though entirely appropriate, given our history, I did not want such arguing to be my last memory of you." Now, Leon does smile a little, willingly. D returns the look for a moment, but it becomes rueful. A small, uncharacteristically nervous readjustment of his hand causes one side of his robe to slip down further. Leon does his best not to stare, and D clears his throat softly. "I am—ah—sorry if my abrupt departure was reminiscent of other things. I did not realize it would be. But leaving was very necessary." He pauses, and his gaze slips to the floor for a moment, before resting very resignedly upon Leon. "Therefore, I feel it would be best if you said your piece and left."

Leon feels suddenly sick. D smiled at him—he doesn't understand why he's still being thrown out. And he still hasn't been offered tea. He backs away, wounded, confused. Obviously D doesn't want him here. How could he have been such an idiot?

He jumps when his back hits the door. Doesn't realize he's crying until the look D is giving him registers as frightened as fuck.

He tries to get out what he wants to say despite the tears running down his face, even though D probably doesn't want to hear it. Definitely doesn't want to hear it.

"I know I'm just a stupid human, D, and that you don't care, don't fucking care about me at all." The words are poison; he chokes on them, and they make him cry harder. But he has to break the cycle. The parallels end here.

"I didn't want to let you leave without telling you I loved you, okay? I didn't want to let you leave before I could beg you to fucking stay." He wipes his hand across his face, shaking his head, remembering his whole goddamn fucked up life in an instant. "Everyone is always fucking leaving." He closes his eyes, finds the doorknob with his hand. Turns it, turns his body, is almost outside, but turns back. D's still sitting on the sofa, more rigid than usual and looking stricken. Pon-chan and T-chan are right beside him, looking frantic. Leon just stares at him for a long time, trying to get his mind around the idea that he'll never see him again. He shakes his head, because it doesn't make sense.

"I really thought you meant it when you asked me to stay forever."

D opens his mouth, but Leon doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to be told what a stupid fucking idiot he is. He has said his piece.

He leaves.

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