Asami's four letter words.
Cliché plot warning, and probably a dumb chapter. I'm sick and my hubby is away, so no one to look after me, so blegh, take what you can get :P big chapter though, so I hope some is good.
Oh, so tired.
Long Asami monologue. Seriously long.
Also, like I said before. Long. Slow. Angst. Train. BUT it will get to its destination. This journey is far from over.
Asami knew one thing as he stood trembling in his tarnished penthouse: he needed more whiskey. He'd just wasted half a bottle against the wall over there, the wall stained with his fury, the glass on the floor littering his perfect control, the blood next to it tainting the moat around his fortress.
He needed whiskey to wash all feeling away, he wanted the tide of alcohol to erase all coherent thought, so he could walk away from his own mind, even if it was just for a short while.
For a short while, he needed it to chase away that dream, he needed it to drink the pain down, until he had to go back to being Asami Ryuichi.
He understood now, why people drank their cares away, why people lived under the disguise of alcohol. All the money in the world couldn't do it, but alcohol could.
Love.
Alcohol could wipe that one four-letter word away, that four-letter word and everything associated with it, it could sweep away the complications, the turmoil, it could drown out the headlines, it could send everything away, not permanently, but the short respite was enough to make him lose himself in his tumbler
If he could, he would buy love out of the dictionary, out of existence, but even with all his fortune, it was something he couldn't accomplish with money, so alcohol would have to do.
If that word disappeared, then so would the cacophony of four letter words that went along with it.
Love….. hope, need, heat, gold, King, true.
Everything that Akihito had awakened in Asami. Hope for a happy ending, the need for his presence, the necessity of his heat, the heights of gold he reached just for him, crowning himself King, the truth was he did it all for those feelings, for Akihito.
To Asami, they all went hand in hand with another set of four letter words. They always had and they always would, he knew that now.
Hate, envy, pain, fear, cold, lies.
The increased hate for his enemies, the envy he felt for other's close to Akihito, the pain when he was in danger, the fear of not being able to protect him, the cold penthouse he left behind, the lies he told to himself.
All of those words held hands and walked a path that regrettably led to only one place, an inevitable destination for a man like Asami, all brought about by that first word. The destination was the worst word of all.
Ruin.
Love, if he could buy that one word away, that trigger word, then all the others would disappear, leaving only him and Akihito.
Love, he would get rid of it the only way he knew how. Alcohol.
He'd lost his muse, the amber liquor in the bottle could be his new one, the color made a mockery to the lustrous gold he once felt.
He fetched more from the bar, and began drinking anew before he even set himself down on the couch, next to the photo that started this mess.
He sat and drank, for a long time, going over realizations in his head.
He always considered himself a smart man. He was a smart man. Everyone knew it. He could solve any problem, broker any deal, negotiate the worst terms. Asami Ryuichi could find a way around anything and everything. That was who he was.
But it was he who was the problem this time, it would always be the problem, a cold hard truth he never wanted to admit.
Asami Ryuichi had never felt the weight of what he was more than what he did now.
This media ruckus would pass eventually, like it always did, he knew he could see it through with Akihito. He knew it. It was just a dream, but what the dream told him, what it represented, that was still the most important thing of all.
He could still hear the sound of the gunshot, the cooling blood on his hands felt so real, the glint of the silver pistol in the moonlight burning itself into his waking memory, along with the weight of Akihito's lifeless body against his chest.
All the images of that dream ricocheted inside his head, along with the realizations that went with it.
If it wasn't that, it would be another thing, Akihito would still lose his job, his family, all credibility. Even if he pulled through the worst of it, Akihito would still be left with nothing but Asami, the very person who caused it all.
And Akihito would come to hate Asami for it. Truly hate him.
Who wouldn't, after all that?
If it wasn't the press, it would be something else, his enemies, they would either target Akihito until he was dead, or Asami would die saving him. Both options left the other alone in the abyss anyway.
As long as Akihito was with Asami, he would always be at risk, he would always be a weakness that could be exploited, and sadly it worked both ways.
Asami was Akihito's weakness, snooping around the most dangerous of scoops at the mention of his name. Asami wouldn't be able to save him from them all if ever they went pear shaped.
Once already, one of the tips Akihito received about arms dealing and Asami had been fake, a trap to lure the pesky journalist and the master in so they could both be finished off.
That had been close. He should have realized then.
They could never have a normal relationship, Akihito's family wouldn't accept a man like him, just as Akihito didn't belong in the world that Asami came from. It really was the difference between black and white, both on the opposite sides of the color spectrum, separated by thousands of other colors that would forever be between them, obstacles, insurmountable walls.
It didn't matter what choice Asami made, there would always be something that would come between them, and Asami was the cause of that something, because of who he was, there would always be that something.
Asami was the eye of the storm, he was the noose around his neck, he was the shadow creeping in to taint the light.
He was the saviour, and the destroyer. One didn't need a saviour, if there was no destroyer though.
Akihito wouldn't need rescuing, because without Asami, there would be no danger, without Asami he wouldn't be on the front page, without Asami he would still have his family, without Asami he would still have his life.
Without Asami, Akihito could be Akihito, the criminal photojournalist, all Asami had to do was deny it all, tell the press it was all a farce, which he couldn't bring himself to do, not yet, that was one lie he didn't think he could tell. So he'd done nothing, he'd simply shut it all out.
That dream made him realize, it wasn't their relationship that was the loaded barrel.
Asami wasn't even the gun, or the trigger. He was the bullet.
The bullet that ended it all, the bullet that killed him.
Love, that four letter word was the trigger.
If he removed that word, and himself from the equation, it would all be fine in the end.
It was the only choice.
This was, in truth, the kindest thing he could ever do for Akihito, it would just take time for everyone to come to the same realization, to the same choice.
As he drifted off to sleep on the couch, next to that photo, Asami Ryuichi finally felt the burden of being King.
The crime lord gasped awake, his body cold and clammy, covered in sweat. He pressed his palms to his eye sockets to relieve some of the building tension caused by whiskey and stress. No matter how much he slept, he was always tired. The cold did that to you, and there was no warmth to invigorate him now.
Not anymore.
He looked down at his hands after a moment, expecting to see Akihito's blood covering them, they felt so heavy and so stained. Heavy with the weight of regret, stained with mistakes and bad choices.
He'd had that dream again, the dream that served as a constant reminder that he had to ride this one out. Time would pass and everything would go back to the way it was before. That's what he had been trying to do. He knew people thought he was insane, but for Asami, it was his only way of coping.
He didn't ever think, for one moment, that it would be this hard to live without his warmth, without his smile at breakfast, or the morning embraces under the sheets, without the person who made his house a home.
He chuckled a mirthless rumble. Of course it would be hard, there was no rain without clouds, no thunder without lightning. One without the other just didn't happen.
Asami found himself in the scalding hot tile shower of his bathroom, willing the stinging stream to inject warmth into his weary muscles.
The wound had begun to turn, and all the alcohol in the world couldn't disinfect it. He hoped a burning hot shower could at least rinse away some of it.
As he stood under the showerhead, he was reminded of another word that went perfectly in this mess, lust.
Only Akihito was capable of driving him crazy with that feeling, the mere thought of all the things they'd done in this very shower was enough to ignite that flame again.
His groaned as he thought of yet more words, kiss, lick, bite, suck.
All fuelled by his lust for Akihito, he pictured doing all those things to said person. Kissing those perfect lips, licking that soft neck, biting those sweet nipples, sucking his delicious….. just sucking everywhere. Marking him with another four-letter word, Mine.
He leant against the cold tiles, running his hand in the crease of his hip, just like the way Akihito did, Akihito loved that crease.
He pictured a smaller tentative hand grasping his hardness, with the will to please, stroking him slowly from base to tip, the way he'd been taught. How Asami liked it most, he groaned at the thought.
His breathing deepened as he pictured his hand as that smaller one, leaning up against the cold tile wall.
Stroking himself with the image of Akihito on his mind, he could almost forget everything, he could almost forget that it was all another four letter word.
Gone.
He stifled a growl as he quickened his pace, pulling the skin up and down, gliding his thumb over the tip, the way Akihito used to do it.
His breathing grew heavy as he gripped harder, driving his hips into his hand, he threw his head back as he whispered Akihito's name and shot his pearly white load all over the tiles to be washed away.
Everything was washed away, those words, the alcohol from his system, his momentary relapse in control, it was a new day, and he was back to being Asami Ryuichi. Back to being King.
The secretary shivered on the runway at the air port as the northern wind cut through his suit, it wasn't that he was cold, it was the plane he was waiting for that was the cause of his body temperature dropping. Feilong's private jet.
Kirishima was nothing short of bone tired right about now, for the past 3 days they had been trying to keep the incident of Asami shooting Sumewari quiet, for fear of their own men walking and rivals finding out about the organization's current instability.
He wasn't sure how much it would take for an enemy to find that chink in the armour.
Kirishima had to deal with two turncoats already. The culprits found themselves wrapped in a concrete blanket, sleeping at the bottom of Tokyo Bay.
The first had offered to turn double agent for a small time arms dealer, ironically enough, the person he approached actually worked for Asami as a spy in their midst, he contacted Kirishima while the man was still in his office, Kirishima and Suoh had been waiting for him outside the building when he came out, much to the mans mortification, and imminent death.
The second offered to give more information about Asami and Akihito's relationship to the press in exchange for money set up by a yakuza group, luckily, another subordinate who still knew where his loyalties lay, caught him on the phone and subdued him enough to bring him to Suoh's office.
Kirishima winced at that memory, Suoh had been mad, even with his shot up arm, the man wasn't recognisable as he sunk to the depths of Tokyo Bay, an angry Suoh was scary, especially when it came to Asami or Akihito.
Times might be… questionable, but to Kirishima and Suoh, it was never an excuse for betrayal. The secretary and bodyguard dealt with them personally.
Jun was still in an induced coma under the care of Asami's personal doctor. He was stable, but it would be a long time before he was capable of working again. The only thing that really covered their asses was his resignation prior to the incident, which meant they didn't need to explain his sudden absence from work.
Most seemed none the wiser. Asami was ready for work the next day. His eyes seemed a little darker, and the lines of his face more etched and cold. The crime lord persona was coming to the fore in his everyday life now, even in his legal business.
Kirishima knew though. He couldn't forget the sound of that bottle smashing. He knew his boss was hurting.
Everyday he still wanted to know why. Why now?
They had gone passed the point of no return long ago, which is why Kirishima still couldn't shake his unnerve as he stood with Suoh on the tarmac, waiting for Feilong's jet to arrive.
If Kirishima was unnerved, then Suoh would be considered frantic.
The only reason Kazumi had come, was to make sure the Baishe leader didn't pull anything dodgy with Akihito.
He wasn't too keen on the Feilong idea still.
His protective streak for Akihito was getting longer each day, Kirishima woke up to text messages from Kazumi asking how Akihito was that morning, and if he had eaten his breakfast or not, he really didn't want to see Akihito go.
If Suoh didn't live in the same building as Asami, no doubt Akihito would be at his house instead.
Asami wasn't backing down, they each approached him once on the matter of Akihito, and their boss had just told them to leave it and get back to work, forbidding them to bring the matter up again, every inch of him daring them to keep going lest that black flash to red once more.
Kirishima thought it was too soon for another lightning strike, so he let it drop for now.
Suoh stomped out of the office after his attempt, any other time, Kirishima would have laughed, it was hilarious to see Suoh in a huff.
It was rare for Asami to keep them in the dark about anything, but the one thing they wanted to know most, was something he wouldn't tell them.
Tension in the office was high, but luckily the damage seemed minimal in the three days after Sumewari's shooting, Kirishima should feel relieved, if it weren't for the jet landing on the runway.
He saw Suoh stiffen beside him as the plane slowed down on the runway to stop in front of them and their waiting car, it took a few minutes for the turbines to stop and be strapped in place, for the door and steps to be brought down, and finally for Feilong and Yoh to make their way down said steps towards them. The word relief was fleeing for its life as tension chased it away with its menacing claws.
Feilong walked up to them, serious and with all the grace of the trained assassin he was, Yoh inclined his head in greeting, knowing no words needed to be spoken to his former colleagues.
"Take me to him." was all Feilong said.
With those words, that tone, Kirishima trusted Feilong implicitly with Akihito, he saw Suoh let out a breath beside him, relieved at last.
The words not spoken in a rush, but spoken with the utmost care, with understanding, he understood what this situation needed, and he was the only person that could give it, and the look in his eyes said he would give everything he had.
Relief at last.
The four men quietly hopped in the waiting BMW and made their way to Kirishima's condo, silence accompanied them for the entire ride. Unlike Akihito's friends, Feilong and Yoh didn't need any warnings about what they would be seeing, they had seen it in Feilong himself years ago.
Feilong stood quietly in the hall as Asami's secretary unlocked his apartment, it was remarkable, how this strange bunch of men had come together, it was an impossible thought, everyone of them in the same space, civil, but here they were.
All in silent understanding, a weird sort of trust given to one another to let their grudges go just this once.
It was a comfortable silence in the company of Asami's subordinates.
There was the tall blonde, Suoh, a juggernaut if Feilong ever saw one, his eyes constantly on the move, always looking around him for threats, a man worthy of being Asami's bodyguard for sure.
Then there was Kirishima, the secretary, his eyes held wisdom, his stature carried calm and poise, but he looked so tired, weary. They both did.
Part of the reason was behind the door they were standing in front of.
Underneath it all, Feilong was anxious, anxious to get to Akihito, he wanted to wrap his arms around him and tell him he could weather this storm, just like Feilong had.
It might seem impossible to Akihito now, lord knows it had to Feilong, but the skies would clear eventually, and on the other side of the front, the sun would still be waiting, shining down on his back as he set forth on a new journey, warm once more.
"He will probably be on the couch staring up at the ceiling, he does that most days." Kirishima commented as he pulled the lever down, how long did it take to open a damn door, Feilong thought, the past three days had all slowed down to this moment.
If it weren't for business and meetings, the Baishe leader would have come right away, but finally he was here, Akihito was on the other side of that door.
Kirishima and Suoh turned to look at him expectantly as the door swung open, beckoning for Feilong to enter first.
His heart was beating with apprehension as he took a few steps into the abode of Asami's subordinate, into the open living space.
The couch was just there, it's high back hiding the body that belonged to the feet dangling off the edge.
Everything else faded out, he didn't register the other three come in behind him, the only thing there was right now was that couch and the person on it.
"Akihito." He called out softly as he made his way closer to the couch.
"F-feilong?" came the whispered question as the withered body sat up on the to look over the backing.
Feilong saw it all, he saw his previous self, the gaunt cheeks, the hollow eyes and pale skin, sucked dry of everything, a fragile shell that needed breaking so it could be put back together.
He saw the blank face register surprise before it happened, before he saw the pure anguish grip his soul, he witnessed as all the emotions that had fled him for the past two weeks spewed up from the great divide, he watched as the demons of loss devoured him.
He knew those feelings all to well, the constant raging from calm to hell, with your mind stuck somewhere in in the middle.
Kirishima stood and watched, the ability to breathe had escaped him as he saw two weeks worth of hell plague Akihito's face, he saw Feilong stare at Akihito, his brows pursed in tender concern, his eyes assessing with gentle care, not a shred of pity, just pure understanding. This was the right choice.
They were almost a reflection of each other, a mirror, except one was looking at past and one was looking at the future.
The small frame stood up from the couch, still unsure of the tidal waves ripping through him.
"Feilong, I…" he covered his face with his hands as it all finally hit home, Asami was gone, everything was gone, the past two years were meaningless.
He took a few steps to come out from the side of the couch, hands scrunched in his hair, holding on as if squeezing tighter meant he could come to grips with it, but it was a futile effort.
The sound of Akihito's panicked breathing whispered throughout the apartment, louder and more ragged with each passing moment, he was probably the only person actually breathing in the apartment right now, everyone else just waited, this had to happen, this part was crucial.
And it was happening, before their very eyes, the breaking, finally after two long weeks.
Those thin arms flopped down hopelessly as Akihito looked back at them, Kirishima could see the tide welling up in his eyes as the storm finally hit inside that mind, those eyes brimming with despair, the emotions pumped up from a well that only Feilong knew how to operate.
"Feilong…. Why?" Akihito choked as he sank to his knees with a thud, hands ripping at his hair once more, to stop them from trembling.
The first gut-wrenching sob polluted the silence, the first salty tears hidden by the palms trying to push them back in, trying to stop the dam from opening, and in that instant Feilong was there next to him.
Feilong sank to his knees on the floor of Kirishima's apartment and held Akihito tightly, his knees on either side of the body between them, he gripped the blonde firmly against his chest as he finally broke in his embrace.
The terror-stricken body wrapped in his arms was heaving now, racked with uncontrollable sobs, tearing through the past, ripping it all to shreds, rendering it all useless, something that couldn't even be recycled.
The Baishe leader shut his eyes and pulled Akihito's head against his chest, resting his chin on the shaking blonde's head.
His own black hair fell to fan in front of Akihito's face, a silken curtain to hide the worst of the display to come.
"Take me away Feilong." Akihito whispered into his chest, repeating the harsh words that Asami had said.
"Shhh, Akihito. We'll go back to Hong Kong, Tao will be happy to see you. I'll take you to see the Great Wall, and the Forbidden City, you can see the Terracotta Soldiers, I'll have them shut to the public and you can take as many photo's as you want from wherever you want without a care in the world. We need to get some meat on your bones first."
"I wont be able to if Tao steals my food like last time." Akihito said.
Ah, he was still there, underneath it all. The corners of Feilong's eyes lifted in a smile.
"Fufu, there won't be any of that this time around Akihito, I promise."
The moment passed, and Akihito went back to hitching breaths as his tears finally showed themselves.
Kirishima decided he much preferred the silence then what he was hearing right now, the frantic gasping between unintelligible cries, asking why, asking what had he done, asking all the questions that Kirishima and Suoh had no answers to, all the questions that they wanted to answer for him. That much he deserved.
He was only glad he couldn't see Akihito's face, Feilong's raven black hair had swept in front of it, the only shade of black that Akihito needed right now.
It didn't mean Kirishima couldn't see the tears falling on the floor though, it didn't mean he couldn't see Akihito fall to pieces right before his very eyes, the brittle vessel finally hit the floor of reality and shattered.
He let out the breath he'd be holding for so long, anything was better than this, he found himself wanting to shout, why the fuck should this be necessary when it shouldn't be happening in the first place.
Next to him, he heard Suoh tsk under his breath, his ever stoic friend was thinking the same thing.
What he wasn't expecting though, was for Kazumi to storm out of the apartment and slam the door behind him as he went.
He followed, relieved to have an excuse to get out, to be anywhere but in the living room of his own house right now.
Kazumi was pacing in the corridor of the complex, his teeth were gritted tight as he patrolled back and forth, Kirishima opened his mouth to say something, but Suoh spoke first.
"I can't take this shit, Kei!"
"Kazumi?" the secretary questioned.
"How is this protecting Akihito? For fucks sake, I would rather dive into a pit of mafia bastards or chase the brat around Tokyo for an eternity then this! God, I want to shoot someone right now, no, I want to beat the shit out of someone. We can protect him from enemies, watch over him, but we can't protect him from the worst fucking thing of all! We can't protect him from Asami!" He slammed his palms against the closest wall and hung his head between his arms.
"Wait, what did you just say then?" Kirishima asked, something in Suoh's rampaging speech stuck with him, the target invisible, but the words had still hit the right spot.
"What? That I wanted to shoot someone?" still looking at the floor between his arms.
"No, that last part." Kirishima urged.
"Hmmm, we can't protect him from Asami?... Oh. Kei, you don't think?" Suoh was staring at him now, comprehension lining his features.
"Yes, I do think." Kirishima had the answer to his question now.
"For all his smarts, Asami is still an idiot." Kirishima straightened, standing up from the wall.
"So, what now then?" He asked.
Kirishima had the question answered that had been eating away at him for two weeks, only to be replaced by another.
Suddenly, he didn't know what choice to make.