I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Chapter Eighteen: No Kau a Kau ~ For Eternity
"So, who is this guy?" Danny asked as he slid into Kono's car. "What are we meeting with him about?" He was so relieved to get out of the office and on the road to actually do something constructive, he was practically oozing with untapped energy. In heat of the sun, which had made the interior of the car a sweltering hotbox, he already knew that he needed to force himself to relax. He felt better than good but that could change in an instant with the slightest of stresses. He'd learned that the hard way by over-doing simple house chores and earning Doctor Fratelli's seething anger. As he had been so reminded, his full recovery would likely take up to two months, during which he would continue to feel fatigued for up to eight weeks after surgery.
"He's an old friend that I haven't seen in a very long time and I have a few questions for him," Kono said blandly. She glanced over before pulling out onto the main road while snorting with laugher when she spied his jouncing knee. "Calm down, Danny. Makoa is just an ordinary man and he hasn't done anything wrong; at least not yet."
"I'm all kinds of calm. If anything, I'm too calm," Danny replied smartly. He smirked at her tolerant laugh, instantly pleased that whatever this little adventure was had already perked up her spirits. "So, tell me. He's an old friend from where ... and when?"
"From ... before," Kono offered, keeping her smile but the reply extremely short. She bit her lip to keep from laughing again, knowing that her attitude would only serve to encourage him. Seconds later, he was twisting in the passenger seat to pester her with even more questions.
"Ah, I see. From .. before," Danny said. His amused tone readily accepted her challenge where she might try to not reveal her secret too early. "We're playing a game! Dare I ask from before what?"
"Nope. It's not worth it," Kono shrugged, baiting him intentionally. "You'll see when we get there." Her attitude was perplexing as she looked his way, laughing when she saw his baffled expression. "I want to talk to Makoa and I'm not sure what exactly's going to happen after we see him." That was as far as she truly wanted to go and her face must have expressed her genuine desire to put a halt to the questioning.
"Fine," Danny chuffed in exasperation, tapping his knee impatiently. He looked out the window, barely seeing the landscpae as it hummed by but his brain was actively whirling at the possibilities. "It's about my surfboard isn't it." His statement was just that ... a formal declaration full of a loaded expectation and Kono's instantaneous reaction proved him right.
"Danny! No guessing allowed!" Kono had to choke back her laughter, one hand smacking the steering wheel in protest. "You're acting as if you're five."
"Uh huh," Danny copied her original bland tone. "Sounds like I'm better than warm. What's his name again? Makoa who?"
"Hayashi," Kono murmured, shaking her head in frustration. ""Makoa Hayashi. You don't know him. Yet."
Completely intrigued, Danny smiled broadly as he settled comfortably back in his seat. He was incredibly pleased and as he glanced over to Kono again, he could easily see that she was battling another bout of laughter.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O*
Makoa Hayashi stared at the newcomers from underneath eyebrows so bushy and whitely bleached from sun and saltwater, he knew they likely couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or open. One he knew quite well because he had, after all, invited her back to his shop based upon her letter. The other - a blonde haole who screamed mainlander and cop simultaneously - he had no clue about and he was instantly perturbed with the young woman he'd agreed to see. But the man's presence gave credence to the broken board left by Kono Kalakaua and now, Makoa was beginning to understand the potential significance of the as yet undisclosed, favor.
Even though Kono was no longer a full-time competitor, she was o'hana. Rumors, both valid and invalid, had run through their tightly-knit surfing community worse than a wildfire. Makoa had certainly heard sketchy details about Cristo Reed, what he had done, and then ultimately of his fate. He had heard about Kono's abduction in snippets from various sources; some had been boastful, others were stunned or heartbroken. He had discounted much of this idle talk along the way, yet one thing always remained true: rumors were often at least valid at the root of their very foundation.
As he now reconsidered Kono's note, the broken board left on his doorstep, and her prompt arrival with a cop who had a fairly new scar healing over his temple, Makoa knew something else was going to be asked of him. He snorted softly under his breath at her audacity and was impressed once again. Even as a child, Kono had been brave and quite forthright. Fighting a raw knowing smile, Makoa would now need to decide the overall benevolence of his response. However, he wanted to know more and his final answer would require work on their combined parts.
"I didn't think that was your board," Makoa drawled rudely to Kono as if Danny barely existed until he jutted a scruffy white-ridged jaw in the haole's direction. "Is that why you brought him along?"
Makoa didn't move as the cop studied him from top to bottom. The blonde cop noticeably blanched when he saw what remained of the three fingers on Makoa's left hand. He did snort in amusement though when the blue eyes settled on the scarred divots of ruined muscle tracing his left upper thigh. He'd gotten such a reaction for as long as he could remember and it no longer bothered him. In fact, the old grievous wounds were those of a warrior and he showed them off proudly. Wearing shorts and forever bare-foot, Makoa had lost his vanity long ago.
He grinned at the haole's discomfort, intentionally flashing a tobacco-stained tooth before hawking a wad of thickly-stained brown saliva into the sand.
"Shit," Danny muttered under his breath just loud enough for Kono to hear. Makoa Hayashi was a big man, older but certainly quite fit. He struck an intimidating picture for someone who didn't know him, and it was obvious that Hayashi did so intentionally. "Who is this guy?"
"Hayashi-san!" Kono grinned happily, almost skipping forward to respectfully hug the old man. Behind her, Danny had stalled in place but she clearly heard his sarcastic 'seriously?' repeated twice in a row when she dared approach the intimidating character. "Thank you for seeing me! How was your trip to Uluwatu?"
"Ulu -what?" Danny coughed loudly not realizing that he was momentarily being ignored during their mutual greeting. He didn't notice because he was already distracted. Gazing upwards, his eyes were widening in wonder as they were drawn to the ancient chewed-out board hanging the long breadth of the shed's roof. If the vintage balsa surfboard had been bobbing in the sea, the entire left-hand side would have been a jagged wreck of wood and splinters. He realized then that Makoa Hayashi had literally been attacked by a shark and what he was now seeing was the remnants of a near deadly struggle; at least for the man.
Awe-struck, Danny looked from the impressively damaged board to the equally damaged man before him. With his remaining three fingers splayed across his bicep for all the world to see, Makoa had folded his arms across his wide chest, waiting calmly for the various clues to sink home and firmly into the mainlander's head with utmost patience.
"He's still out there. Somewhere," Makoa chuffed sarcastically and solely for Danny's benefit. With a mockingly grand gesture, he stepped to the side to hold the door to his workshop open wide. "Well, come on in and have a look around. I don't have all day and it seems we have something to talk about."
"No, thanks," Danny replied quickly, a pathetic look aimed towards Kono who had yet to cease smiling with an abandoned glee. He leaned forward at the waist in surprise as she disappeared blithely into the artisan's domain, leaving him entirely on his own near her car.
"Kono!" He called after her as she abandoned him to face Hayashi alone who seemed to straddle the darkened doorway to his workshop like the very shark who'd attacked him. "Kono? Seriously? I'd like to actually go home tonight and not get carved up into little pieces of chum by Ernest Hemingway gone sideways."
Danny smiled sickly at his new host, but refused to move a single foot forward. He blinked in concern and lost more color as he realized his words had been fully digested and were being weighed. Mentally, Danny chastised himself for not entirely thinking before speaking his mind as Hayashi seemed to grow ten feet taller.
"Ah, sorry. I ... ah ... didn't mean anything bad by that," Danny flinched through his apology. Hayashi was definitely standing square now, his shoulders impressive as they blocked the way into his workshop. His starkly white bushy eyebrows shielded his eyes like a furry helmet and for the life of him, Danny couldn't read the man's posture or facial expression.
There was a long pregnant pause during which Danny shifted uncomfortably in the blazing sun. He wondered if he could graciously escape to the sanctity of Kono's small car without too much trouble. But he didn't dare move as Makoa Hayashi cocked his head quizzically. An uncomfortable dearth of any sound continued until an odd chortled gasp emanated from the older man's belly. It broke the quiet and sounded like a pair of worn-out bellows causing Danny to pale even more where he stood frozen.
"Chum? Hemingway?" Makoa's laugh was loud then. "Sideways?" Another rusty sound much like unused hinges matured into a deeper bass guffaw which brought tears to the dark-brown eyes and reddened his face. As Makoa dissolved in laughter, Kono's peeked her head back out from the workshop, her smile now threatening to disappear.
"What happened?" She asked worriedly. But Danny's mouth only gaped open in shock just as he took a hesitant step backwards. "Danny, what did you say?"
"Oh no," Makoa strode the four steps it took to close the gap between himself and the haole. He wiped his tearing eyes as he continued to laugh in appreciation. He was taller up close, thick-chested and he certainly towered over the smaller detective. As the glare from the sun was suddenly blocked from his face, Danny flinched as Makoa's three-fingered hand fell companionably on his shoulder to insistently propel him forward. The man's thumb gripped the ridge-line of his clavicle while his remaining index and middle fingers dug into the back of his skin with a relentlessly strong pressure.
"Now, you have to come in. No one has made me laugh this hard in years!" Makoa chuckled while guiding Danny into the workshop. Once through the door, he waited for the man's eyes to acclimate to the difference in light. Then, the resulting stunned pleasurable gasp about the pristine shop made Makoa grin proudly.
"This is impressive," Danny commented. He relaxed when he realized the interior was brighter and airier than he'd anticipated. The smell was an odd earthy mix of polish, wax and sanded wood. "It's so ... big. Clean ... and it's absolutely perfect." The outside of the shed looked ridiculously ramshackle and rundown. It hid the truth of its rambling interior with its expensive materials and equipment. A variety of surfboards in an array of shapes, sizes and readiness neatly ranged the walls. Further towards the back and somewhat sectioned off, Danny could just see where two sat ready on sawhorses, apparently in the midst of being created.
Still chuckling to himself, Makoa watched as the blonde haole rocked to a stunned halt in front of his own broken board placed in one corner of the workshop. He looked from Makoa to Kono with an unabashed mixture of embarrassment and confusion. Makoa tried not to smile at the man's discomfiture because he'd not known that Kono had indeed already dropped the board off.
He waited patiently as Danny walked back to stand before him measuring him now eye for eye. Again no one spoke, and the lull gave Makoa more time to consider the broken board and the healing side of the haole's head where he clearly could see the scar. The hair there was just growing back and it would eventually cover the thin white line, yet the injury seemed suspect and wholly unrelated to the broken surfboard.
"What happened?" Makoa nodded once, inquiring if Danny had been injured while surfing when he was interrupted. "How ..."
"No. I broke my board surfing," Danny said curtly. "Not the head; that came later. From ... the incident in the parking lot." He looked meaningfully towards Kono who was now giving them room to get to know each other. Sensing that the mood had already improved, she was examining a line of finished boards stacked along the farthest wall.
"Cristo," Makoa barely breathed the name out in such a way it sounded as a curse. He glanced once towards Kono to see if she'd heard, but her back was to him. He sniffed almost angrily under his breath as he easily put the pieces together. "So, much of what I heard then was true? He attacked you both after your accident?" A sneer now curved his lips. One of anger and absolute disgust and Danny immediately changed his mind about the intimidating Makoa Hayashi.
"Yes," Danny affirmed equally as softly. "I should have been more careful on the way in; but there was something ... off. Though the board doesn't look like it; I do know better. At least most times; I messed up that day."
Makoa's jaw jutted out as he considered the implications of Danny's rueful comments and explanation. The head injury was severe and the cop was still recovering. Both people before him felt responsible for the other. But the blonde haole already looked tired and yet, was game to continue. He was an interesting juxtaposition of mainlander and surfer. An odd mixture of cop and yet something so much more which fit Kono's world of law enforcement and o'hana.
"You're not working?" Makoa asked astutely. He let the unspoken gaps fill themselves in; not all the details were important. He could sense the natural ingrained energy held at bay inside the smaller man and pursed his lips in consideration. The man was growing fatigued and yet eager to get his normal life back on track. Kono was eager to help him do just that and Makoa remained intrigued. "How much longer? What are your restrictions?"
"Another month of desk duty," Danny replied bitterly. If he was surprised by the personal aspect of the questions, he didn't seem to mind. "But much longer to resume normal activities and especially surfing or contact sports of any kind. I think Kono brought me to meet you to see if you might be able to fix my board?"
"Hmph," Makoa made the harsh sound in the back of his throat. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully towards Kono who continued to studiously ignore them as if finding his workshop a remarkable place to wander and poke. And it was; yet not that intriguing to the initiated, of which, Kono certainly was one of those long indoctrinated.
The haole - Danny - was duly impressed and unable to hide his interest from looking into every nook and cranny. Now, Makoa knew what Kono wanted of him and he shook his head at the bold but unvoiced request. The broken board was of average quality but could be repaired. It was easy, menial work that required virtually none of his talent except for his ability to impart knowledge.
She could have asked anyone to fix the board. Therefore, she was discreetly asking Makoa Hayashi for more. Something very unique and at least special to her ... and to her friend. And so, what would be the harm in that?
Makoa decided the answer was, of course, none at all. As o'hana, this request was critical to her though and he could understand the private need. He understood her connection to the haole and the dangerous thread which connected them all to Cristo Reed and so, he didn't require any more convincing.
He remained quiet as Danny moved away to gaze in awe at the custom board which had recently been finished for an Australian client. The board was a stunning work of artisanship and its surface would soon boast a well-buffed, shined sheen. He watched as Danny went to touch the board and then changed his mind entirely, wandering instead to respectfully stare at two completed custom models ready to be picked up by their new owners.
With what could be taken as a long-suffering sigh, Makoa folded his arms across this chest and waited for Kono to notice him. When she looked up and returned to stand before him, a plea echoed in her eyes and Makoa nodded in agreement.
"Yes, alright. I'll teach him."
~ to be continued ~