Title: The Beginning of All Commotions - Epilogue
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Greece/Japan, mentions of other characters and minor/implied pairings in later parts.
Rating/Genre: PG-15 for this chapter /Mafia-AU, Humour, Action.
Warnings: Slight crack, gang warfare, language, fight scenes, booze & smoking.
In this act:In which loose ends are tied and Herakles bids farewell.
~.*.~
-epilogue-
March 14, 2kXX. 19:27 PM
Herakles stood on the rooftop of his office building, chewing on a cigarette as he carefully leafed through the glossy pages of a magazine. When he finally got to Elizabeta's fashion spread midway through the magazine, he paused, tracing a finger over the title – Lover, Beloved – printed in elegant white text over a sleek, black background. Displayed over six whole pages were black-and-white photos featuring two men in a number of poses.
His finger came to a halt at one of the photos. In it was Herakles himself, seated languidly on the floor and shirtless, his arms laced with lengths of silk ribbons which trailed across the ground and up the pale legs and thighs of a slender-build man standing beside him, his nude back facing the camera. Herakles couldn't help but smile appreciatively at Kiku's form, letting his gaze trail from those lean shoulders and down the curve of Kiku's spine, studying the definition in his muscles and the traces of faded scars.
They'd managed to come to a compromise for the photo shoot: Kiku agreed to let Elizabeta decide on their poses, while she promised not to take any up-close and direct shots of his face, so that he could preserve his identity from the public (and no doubt, his modesty). Elizabeta had even edited Kiku's butterfly tattoo off his shoulder from the photos and had placed a false chrysanthemum mark on the back of his left thigh instead.
Another photo just below first caught Herakles' gaze; in this shot, Herakles was lying on the floor as Kiku leaned over him, wearing a blindfold over his eyes, their faces so close together that their lips were brushing.
"'If my kiss offends you…'" Herakles recited aloud the quote inked below the photo.
"'… then punish me with yours.'"
At the sound of the familiar voice and of footsteps approaching from behind him, Herakles' smile grew wider. Soon enough, Kiku came in line of his vision as he stood beside him, looking out at the bustling city walkways far below them. Herakles offered the cigarette to the other man, and after only a moment's hesitation, Kiku accepted it and took a slow drag.
"You know," Herakles began, resting his chin lazily against his right hand, arm propped against the railing. "For all your propriety and your reticence, I have to say you're a fairly good kisser."
Kiku blushed slightly, but Herakles could see the smallest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of the other man's lips (he couldn't help but think then, that Kiku might be… interesting in bed, to say the least).
"Are you always such a tease, Mister Karpusi?" Kiku asked as he met his gaze steadily, releasing a tiny stream of smoke with each breath.
"More so with you, I think." Herakles replied without missing a beat, green eyes aglow with mirth.
Kiku could only chuckle softly at that, turning to gaze back at the streets below. The lights had blinked out slowly, one by one, as offices and shops ended their businesses for the day. The workers finally began to make their way home for the night; the steady crawl of executives in their dark suits a stark contrast in between the crowds of casually-dressed youths who were, no doubt, heading out for a night of drinking and partying.
A faint sound arose from a room several floors below, filling the lull in their conversation with the soft thrum music, of violins and cellos woven together in song. They listened, sharing the cigarette between them, smoke and ash lingering in the air against the medley of melodies and unspoken thoughts.
"The heirloom doesn't actually belong to Yao," Kiku began slowly. "In fact, it's not even his family's 'heirloom.' He had only been keeping it safe until he could hand it over to the rightful owner in due time. That was the last promise he had made to my father."
"So the stuffed cat belongs to your father?" Herakles asked, frowning in disbelief.
Kiku shook his head, nose crinkling in amusement. "No, the toy is Yao's and it was meant to be a decoy."
Reaching into his coat, he drew out a familiar blue box. "The boxes and rings are my father's. Apparently he'd managed to procure these items during one of his trips to Italy. He had meant to pass them on to me someday."
"But he never told you about these boxes before?"
"No, Yao said my father had wanted to wait till I was much older. Because he knew there were others who would be interested in such boxes, he'd requested for Yao's help to keep it hidden."
He paused, watching as the smoke from the cigarette rose into the air in a long thin wisp, only to be scattered into nothingness by a sudden breeze.
"They had not killed him out of envy alone," Kiku went on, this time in a softer voice. "Rumours of these new weapons soon spread after his return from Italy. And even though my father took great care not to speak of the boxes or the rings – except to my mother and his closest of friends – it seems he was eventually betrayed by one of his own men. Yao wanted to protect me, so he'd refused to tell me the truth… at least, up till now."
"I see," Herakles said. "What will you do now, with the boxes and the rings?"
"I'm not sure. I have yet to find any more substantial information about that strange man we fought, only that he goes by the name 'Kusakabe' and that he was last seen in Milan before his arrival here in Londinium."
"Is that where you would be heading to next?"
"Possibly." Kiku stubbed the cigarette against the top of the railing, putting it out completely, and then turning to face Herakles once more, dipped his head into a polite bow.
"I never had the chance to thank you properly, for all the things that you helped me with that day. I owe you my life, Mister Karpusi."
"You saved mine twice." Herakles pointed out. "It was only right that I got a doctor to see to your injuries."
Kiku's lips quirked at that. "Most people would have also sent me to the authorities after all that."
"My mother taught me to always return favours, regardless of who gave them." Herakles said, grinning. "And I'm glad to have met you, even if the circumstances were… well, it was quite unusual."
"As am I."
"Will I get to see you again?"
"... Perhaps. When time permits."
"I look forward to it then."
The moon rose higher into the velvety night sky, bobbing in and out of the clouds, casting a faint glow over the cityscape below it. Several blocks away, standing by the intersection, the neon lights of a digital clock glowed. In a few more hours or so, Herakles would have to head back inside and try to get some work done before turning in for the night. It was going to be a busy morning tomorrow; he would have to juggle his time overseeing the preparations for the next delivery to the East, before rushing to attend a business proposal in his father's stead.
(He made a mental note to remind his father to not get so wasted on alcohol and women that he couldn't even remember how he'd landed in a hotel room, five hours out of Londinium, with lipstick stains and hickies all over his neck and chest, but with absolutely no money or phone. They'd left his clothes though, at least.)
He glanced over to his side where Kiku had been standing earlier; there was a small plastic package placed neatly on the side of the wall, filled with white chocolate pieces covered in elegant swirls of pink and brown drizzles. It was tied simply with a blue ribbon, with a hand-written note attached to the front.
Until next we meet.
Herakles smiled quietly to himself.
-End-
:::
Notes
I would have loved to make sketches of all the poses Elizabeta came up with for these two, lol. But alas, I am no artist, and can only imagine that one of the poses would look similar to a Pixiv Giripan fanart - here I would include the link, but since FF eats up links, you can viewing all working links on my AO3, dA or LJ account.
"If my kiss offends you, then punish me with yours."A quote by Straton of Sardis, a Greek poet and anthologist living in the time of the Roman Emperor Hadrian.
Hikari to Kage no Futatsu no Cannon (Baccano! OST) was the songI had playing as I was writing out the epilogue.I think the first half of the song (up to 1:41) would be a perfect ending song to close up the scene... sometimes I like to imagine my stories as an anime in itself ^^;
Annnnd with that, I'm finally done with this story! I apologise for the lack of any actual Giripan smut in this, especially after all the awkward UST... but it just somehow didn't feel right to throw it in like that? I might be able to write separate piece for the smut though, like an omake of sorts (no one will say no to more Giripan porn, y/y?)
But anyway, here's a shout-out to everyone who has been following this story since the beginning: thank you for all the lovely comments you've left on my stories, and also for adding them to your favourites. They really mean a lot to me :')
I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've loved writing it all!