12
Kasaya and Bakugo were back at the table, sitting in the designated chairs for them right next to one another, but minutes before had had a conversation that sparked Kasaya's mind to tick at something, sending a pang of emotion to swarm briefly through his body:
"Hey." Kasaya let out his last puff, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray, bending the butt of it.
"Hah?" Bakugo responded, the 'Hah' relaxed, breathy. Sitting up, with a lazy elbow on knee, chin on fist, he looked to his left at him. Kasaya seemed relaxed, easy.
"I don't wan't'go back ovr'there." Saya cleared his throat in the darkness, lit only by metal lamps. The sky a haze of deep orange from the city he wished he could venture into, it was pretty. He was looking at it, The Golden had a good view. A few planes flickered in the sky. "Do'you?"
"D'nt give'a shit. I'm'hungry."
Kasaya laughed. "Same. Fuc'tho." He began pulling back his hair into a hair tie. White shirt thrown over shoulder.
Bakugo finished out his second cigarette too and butted it out in the ashtray, copying, slushing out words. "How'gon'are'you?" He wondered.
"It'z been'while. So... far."
"Yeh?" He watched Kasaya pulling that hair back, realizing he had a certain way he did it, fingers running through it on both sides, then arms above the back of the head to tie it up, middle the crown of his head, but it hung fairly low this time, from not caring too much.
"Mhmm." His mouth mumbled. How odd. They were just... talking? "You?" Ashley wasn't inside his head anymore. He wasn't even having deja vu moments, only considering what he should order for food.
"Worse." Bakugo coughed. Those cigarettes! 'Damn.'
Kasaya coughed too. "D'you hate it?" He looked, pointed to the butts in the ashtray, he dropped his arms from tying the bun, watching those maroon orbs blink at him.
Some time had passed, was he still feeling the same way about all this? Bakugo? He kind of shrugged earlier when he'd asked him his thoughts on drinking, he'd said 'Yeh' though. Would it be the same with cigarettes too?
"Dunno." A shrug.
That confirmed it. He was always sure of what the shrugs meant. Like he'd thought before on him, his roommate was the type that you couldn't get anything out of unless he directly told it to you. People like that were confusing, somewhat annoying, but Kasaya could careless. He just didn't feel much of anything anymore to give a shit. He was already numb, but the alcohol aided that even more.
The only thing he was pondering now was what had popped out earlier when he said they were both fucked. His mind was still remembering that. Bakugo was too? How?
The blonde's broad shoulders relaxed. He had something else in mind. "D'you drink in'th'room?"
Kasaya's mouth fell. 'What? How'd?'
They just stared at each other. Silence.
Kasaya suddenly felt deflated, hands awkward, crossing fingers in his lap. He felt flatly threatened. His way of life, would the jack-off cross him?
Bakugo smirked. Blue Bun's face. It told. "I don'give a'shit." He let it out. Info he'd gotten a bit, it was true. So, talking to him... it was proving resourceful.
He could at least think that much. Think enough to understand that if he wanted pieces of a puzzle to lay down, to paint a portrait, he'd have to start talking to it. Anyone else, he wouldn't care. 'Go fuck off' is what he'd say. But if being slight more communicative was providing clues, then well... looks like he'd follow that path.
He wouldn't lose.
His curiosity was aiding him this time, unlike when he'd left the room that one night, late, attempting to follow him, when he'd lied to himself. Soda the excuse. That, on the other hand, had produced no results.
"No?"
"No." He shook his head at him, blonde hair swished a bit. He ran his hands through it. It did feel good. He'd copied Kasaya by running his fingers through the sides, it was too short to swish behind his ear gracefully like Kasaya did though. It just would fall right back out, his whole head like one giant callic, his grandmother pissed him off when she made fun of it. His crazy ass hair that wouldn't obey.
It was thick. That was why. If he let it grow out too much, it started looking like an afro.
He'd had the same cut since he was five-ish, like a detailed maintenance schedule, he had to get monthly cuts, it sucked.
He'd never done that to himself before though, he'd never been that kind to himself, to run his own fingers through his hair. The touch felt good, even if it was his own fingers, it was actually pleasant... having his head touched.
"Yeh. I break'th rules. I don'care." Kasaya shrugged. He didn't fucking care! Listening closely to Bakugo's next words, he motioned to stand. As far as he was concerned, alcohol was a life-saver, and no one would step in his way of taking it from him.
"I'do too."
"Like wa?" Kasaya quirked his eyebrow, turning, watching him run his fingers through his spiky blonde locks. A 'Hero Class'er? Really?' What the hell was he getting at?
"I brek in' the back'a th'dorm." His mouth just spurted. "I let'fire out, I'should'nt." His hands came out, and fingers made a quotation type movement with his fingers like he was quoting someone sarcastically.
Probably a teacher.
Bakugo had not much control over what came out of his mouth, but he was curious after that spurt of detail, if Kasaya would cough up anything else. So far, interest. Bakugo was interested. He got that his first color was blue, so what would be the next one he could put on the brush to start painting the canvas with?
Ah. Kasaya knew. 'So y'seen me up there?'. "So y'seen me up there?" His mouth said the same shit, his head just rambled. Damn it.
"Smokin'yeh." Bakugo mumbled.
"Y'turnin' me'in er'wha?" Kasaya stared. He didn't want to fight this guy. But he'd caught him, how'd he know? He was too inquisitive that's why! Of course Bakugo would look at his surroundings, and spy him!
Kasaya knew from now on, he'd have to watch it, but what came out of Suki's mouth instead ushered a different feeling. Another inkling of trust.
"Nah'asshle." Bakugo sneered, and shakily stood.
Kasaya's face went hot, his mouth was clammed in astonishment, even with being drunk. He didn't care? Why?
Because they similarly broke some rules?
Surely not?
That couldn't be all.
What was the fucking catch?
Suddenly, Kasaya went from not giving a shit, not caring to know anything about him, to wanting to know the 'whys'. Which was a want to take just a small, little peep inside Bakugo's head.
Why did he not care? Why would he not turn him in? Why was he just as fucked? 'Why does he stare at me?'
And he'd find out what those answers were.
He similarly gained interest towards the blonde. (It is unknown to Kasaya that that is the whole exact reason why Bakugo was suddenly acting and speaking some to him; it was for the same cause: To find him out.)
They both now had formed an exact same want. A want to find answers and clues in the other, which was just another thing that made them equivalent in nature.
"Comin'?" Bakugo suddenly reached down and clamped down onto the railing of the outdoor couch they'd taken over. Off balance, he needed something to steady himself. It was a pun towards what Kasaya had said to him earlier in the dining area.
"Hang'on." Kasaya learched over and stood next to him. "Don'take it personl, K?" He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and watched as Bakugo's head suddenly rolled to the side, away to the right, and he said the word 'Fuck' super clear.
That conversation made Kasaya give in. He put his arm around him, and let the preconceived dislike of hauling a drunk shoulder-on-shoulder around everywhere go.
He let it go because of that conversation, because he was just as drunk.
If the biker cut had no issue with him doing whatever, then he felt a tad closer to the guy, even if he was leery of the reasoning. It was just Bakugo himself, generally he was dismissive and aloof, but the drinking Saya did didn't effect him, neither did the smoking, so he didn't care?
Perhaps, perhaps not? Something in Saya's gut felt weird.
It was a good foundation for them both to start standing on, together-ish perhaps. Maybe it'd make the room atmosphere even more calm which Saya would like.
But why would Bakugo, menace and terror of the Hero Class, straight A wiz, hot-head, suddenly accept an invite from his older brother, someone he had never fucking met?
Another 'Why' which led them both to this evening: Simple chat. Obligatory shoulder on shoulder. Stares. Sharing a cup. Now, they were sitting at the table, the Satoko's aside each other, Bakugo on Kasaya's right.
"Uh. Tha'one." Kasaya pointed the menu at the waiter. "Thanks."
The waiter moved on to Katsuki.
Kasaya's mind was on how Bakugo had actually asked him to light his cigarette for him. He never asked for help. What the fuck? That thought he didn't have an answer for. There was a small bond between them. Somehow. He felt it and wanted to ignore it. Still not sold on any of this shit. But it was hard. He was sitting right next to him.
What a weird night! Kasaya was stuck not really knowing what to do. He simply ordered a $53 chicken dish, and had moved onto pointing at the menu again after the waiter was done with Suki's order. "I wan'that." It was huge vodka cocktail.
Bakugo leaned left a little to peer over, interested.
"Nah." Hisashi snatched his menu. Both the seventeen's looked up eyebrows ruffled. "He's havin'this." He pointed at a different vodka item, it was a set of rainbow colored shot glasses. The waiter nodded.
"I'll kill'you." Kasaya bumbled out. Rainbow shots? Really? "Y'tryin't make m'lose? Won'happen."
Hisashi really was holding truthful with treating him, even though it was now clearly on someone else's wallet.
He busted up laughing. Kasaya really thought so foul. But he earnestly was trying to just be good to him.
"The'fucks that?" Bakugo spurt.
The women at the table laughed. One even commented that the blonde's voice was so rough for a teen!
Bakugo shouldn't of spoken up! "His'friend here too." Hisashi got bold, pointed at Bakugo. "Taste of'th'rainbow, you'll enjoy it."
"Hah?" Bakugo's bottom lip fell. 'What?'
Kasaya's mouth fell too. That son of a bitch! So that's what the hell he was up to! Kasaya started elbowing him in the side. Super pissed. He set this up! What an asshole! He wanted them to be friends! Kasaya knew something was going on! So this was it!
Hisashi laughed hysterically at Kasaya's crazed elbow jabbing, knowing full-well why he was doing it.
The older people at the table all thought it was hilarious watching to two brother's fighting.
Hisashi wrapped his arm completely around Kasaya's neck, which yanked him out of his chair some, and started roughing him up.
"Let'go y'piece!" Kasaya growled out. "Fu! My'hair! Le'go!" Hisashi was screwed around with his bun again.
"Oh let'em go Private Hisashi." An elder gentleman cooed.
"Fine fine." He suddenly dropped his grasp on his younger, shorter brother.
Kasaya instantly went to fixing his hair again, making it smooth and tightening the bun back up.
Bakugo silently watched, not having any idea what the rest of the night would entail, but not thinking about anything except Kasaya's fingers combing through his long hair.
The whole ride there was a complete blur. Suddenly his body was on a long bench seat.
In a vehicle.
Time had escaped him. Wasn't he just up on a balcony?
Thinking about that. Navy hair?
Had he eaten dinner?
Couldn't recall.
Hisashi hadn't seen someone that drunk in awhile. Those last rainbow shots put Bakugo down. Lion. Down.
Those shots killed almost everything Bakugo had left.
The whole limo ride, to Hisashi's car (for gear), back to the limo, then to the executive's penthouse wasn't long, but this entire time, he watched Kasaya, who had put an arm around Bakugo to help steady him and sit him up straight.
His younger brother smugly glared at him the whole way.
Bakugo's head just lulled around. Eyes opening a crack here and there and he heavily breathed, a moan of something here and there. No tangible words or anything.
How it made him laugh! Poor younger bro! He had a friend now! How bad could that be? Seriously?
What he didn't know though, was something that Kasaya had heard that nobody else did, as he was hauling Bakugo out of The Golden.
All the people up there were staring at the two drunk teens, grasping onto each other, but Saya swore to Gods he heard person say, 'Wait. Isn't that the one they had to put a muzzle on?' And he heard another: 'That blonde. Hooligan. Those cuffs served'em well.'
Kasaya seen the ill-approving half lidded eyes staring from that one specific table.
What the hell kind of impression did Bakugo leave on everyone!? Even aged adults? 'Muzzle? Cuffs?' What the fuck were they talking about? Jail? Kasaya wondered. That elevator door couldn't of closed fast enough for the restaurant. He was tired of that scene anyway.
Bakugo was fucking laughing in the elevator, leaning against the wall, hands in his hair and all over his face. It was crazy. Loud enough that Hisashi and Kasaya had a conversation about how much he actually drank, Kasaya both 'shh-ing' Bakugo (Bakugo having no ears to listen) and struggling to speak right to his brother himself, but Kasaya had really no recollection as he'd lost track and could barely stand upright too.
They clung to each other like baby kittens. Bakugo's head slumping down, bobbed around on the others shoulder. Saya's head back leanig the other way.
How the older party members could still even be drinking was ridiculous. Even in the limo!
Hauling Katsuki out of the vehicle, they stumbled into Grand Suites, and into the elevator, all in. The party of seven, plus too many extras.
It was cramped.
"Wha'where're we?" Bakugo whispered in a small moment of clarity.
This elevator a claustrophobic's delight, and somehow with no air conditioning.
Nobody was paying attention to them, they were the two bugs smashed in the corner.
Hisashi was chatting away opposite end. People blocked his view of the teens, but just as long as they were in there, that was the only thing that mattered, as he was keeping track of the two drunk ones, and he knew they were in, so, he blabbed away to the others.
"Grand'Suites." Kasaya mumbled back. His mouth by an ear. They were similar in height Kasaya realized then.
They were so close and smashed up, that Saya's sharp face was in his blonde hair with no room to move, just due to lack of space, but the hair, it smelled... nice. Much less rough than he thought it'd be. Soft.
And he was getting a rash exposure to it.
It was downright embarrassing.
Slammed up against a drunk man he barely knew, who was actually so handsome (one of those people) it was damn near sickening, stuck holding him, arms under his arms, palms on his back, in an elevator with so many people he didn't know, drunk off his own ass too, his head without any other way to really move it, except further into the other man's ashen hair, and finding it to be semi-pleasant?
It was like they were almost hugging.
Awkward. It was awkward.
His throat swallowed. Kasaya was heated, Bakugo was heavy, and he was beginning to pant. Too many people in this elevator.
"Whaz'that?"
"Pent'houses." Kasaya squirmed. Had. To. Find. Some. Space. Too overwhelming.
"We'on UA?"
"Yeh. Uh'hey."
Bakugo looked up at his roommate. His head upturning, a stupid smirk written on him.
Saya instantly wished he hadn't asked for his attention, because now he felt his cheeks flush. That smirk was different than his usual evil one, it wasn't bad on him, not at all.
"Hmn?" Bakugo hummed, his face was inches from Saya's. He noticed too how hot it was, he opened his mouth for more oxygen, breathing.
Both the air from their mouths was too warm and filled with such thick, heated alcohol, that they could smell it on each other. Taste it in the air between them. They were breathing each other's exhaustion, making the heat issue worse.
Kasaya was still in his black tank, Bakugo in his black V-neck, necklace out. Crimson, drunk eyes were deep into gray ones, firey. Kasaya wiggled, but was unable to let him go, because he'd topple on someone.
A rock of the elevator, soft, set Bakugo to instantly put his hand on the wall behind Kasaya's back in the dimly lit box, in a foggy moment that he'd fall if not, but not realizing it trapped Kasaya in... closer. He blinked his attention back to him, even amongst the loud laughing and banter inside the metallic trap they were in.
With bodies close, Bakugo was caught up by those gray, hollow orbs. He did not know his intent, drunken stare was making Kasaya feel strange. The other, leaner body's arms, grasped and squeezed him tight then, to hold him in again, aiding him once more from a nudge behind him into his lower back, but... that press caused Bakugo's chest to lightly touch the other's, this was... unavoidable. He was so drunk, thought was there, but not grasping his reality in the moment. A low rumble let go, throaty, flowing out.
No stopping it. One of mixed things.
Kasaya heard it. He was thinking more than the other, but was losing it. Fast. It was a heat exhaustion. Between the drinking, holding another man up, that body also overheated, and thrown inside a baking hot, tiny, dim elevator, he was losing his air.
(People inside were even commenting on how there is a ticket put in to get the elevator's Air conditioning fixed, but it just hadn't happened yet.)
Red eyes suddenly glided across a neck. Seeing. Inches. Breathy, looking at the deep v's by the collar bone. Blonde eyelashes batted, lowered.
Proximities being forgotten by both.
Kasaya swallowed, leaning his head back to let it tap lightly on the wall, looking down at Bakugo inspecting.
Warm alcohol aroma, spicy between them.
Suddenly, awkward was comfortable.
Kasaya... lost, confused. His mouth opened more at the heat, eyes closed, opened, he couldn't breathe. Head going distant. Licked his lips for wetness. Thirsty.
Heat exhaustion began to start being drunkenly mistaken on both men's ends... as other things.
Bakugo opened his lips too, same. Too hot. Needed air.
Saya felt the blonde's muscles twitch in his back under his palms.
Both men's eyes slits now. Kasaya felt preyed upon, as Bakugo's eyes did a panther movement back to his face, particularly, the lower portion of it.
Both panted, time escaping. Kasaya lowered his head back down to where it had been.
People kept getting on the elevator, it kept getting more cramped, that was what had lulled Saya's head back down, the elevator going, then stopping, then going, then stopping.
Both faces, drooped. Intensity.
Another push from behind. Abdomen's touching.
A second hand went on the wall behind Saya, Bakugo's head lazily tipping to the side and upwards.
Close. His breath tasty on the lips of the alcoholic.
Kasaya's whole back was now completely against the wall. Now, he actually... really was... trapped, but Saya, felt his palms began to fall, lowering, smooth. Lids blinkly, he was passing out. Alcohol was finally snagging him.
He tried concentrating on the little islands of deep orange inside those orbs of blood. Like the River Styx in hell, all fire. His cheeks grew hotter, felt his legs quiver, lungs empty. Losing it. Any second he'd drop.
Bakugo: A perfect, small smile. Chin tilting up more.
Kasaya: A slow blink to him. Breath.
Both lips quivering.
A soft hand moved off the wall to put a fingertip on a lower back. Then another. A light push in, a spreading of fingers at a waistline.
Movement. A thumb pressed into the V of a hip, grasping the bone there. A gentle touch. Other hand going higher, on the wall by Kasaya's face.
Kasaya closed his lids.
Unmistakable, he felt a close mouth. Then a soft brush of heated lips aside his own.
Unable to breathe at all, but just able to whisper: "Wha'do'y'want?" Kasaya's hands now fallen to the other's hips, getting lower.
It wasn't that he wanted to actually know. He was too far. It was random drunken babble.
Close.
Lips smoothly moved, caressing left and right across the corner of his mouth.
Kasaya's body panted. This depth. A mumble, mouth millimeters off his skin, moving to form words, but nothing came, just the sound of a smirk.
All was gone with soft lips.
They gently pushed into the side of Kasaya's face, near the corner of his mouth.
Passionate.
Lips slightly lifted slow, moving left to be directly on top the others. They began to press down and part.
All eyes closed.
It.
It.
The?
Soft.
It... lips.
Falling into darkness, Kasaya parted his mouth, allowing the pressing heat it's way.
Both heard the sound.
Wet.
One of deep kiss.
This was... ?
The elevator suddenly banged to stop. Rough. (Not their floor though). Both seventeens heads fell opposite directions. Kasaya coughed his head away, jerking it rather. Quick. Hot, drunk.
They were both rashly jerked out the state they were in. And it was forgotten, because of what follows:
Bakugo groaned at another push from behind. His head fell even more, and he passed out right then and there. Blacked out. Whole body becoming a deadweight.
Saya's head fell too, lulled, out of breath. Sudden heavy body all on him, he had been deprived of air too long. With blur closing in, he went down. Out. The first black out drunk he'd been in a long time.
After the elevator made it up to the top pent, it was Hisashi dragging them out of the elevator.
But how he'd found them had made him laugh, passed out all over each other, but still somehow upright.
Like two peas in a pod.
Bakugo snapped and looked up, almost falling out of the chair he was sitting in.
Suddenly in his crazed focus calmed from not knowing where he was (he'd blacked out in the elevator) to focus on the open area he sat in now, all hardwood floor, exquisite. People were sitting around in luxe chairs, suits, gowns, laughing drinking, the indoor area filled to the brim with cigar smoke. The room huge, ceilings high, vaulted.
Kasaya, his back turned to him, was off to the side, clad in a black kimono with red peonies. It took a few minutes for Bakugo to understand what he was staring at. Then it dawned, it was Blue Bun, dressed in older, traditional apparel. It looked weird. Weren't kimonos lounge apparel in tradition? What was he doing wearing that?
And it only partially covered. Bakugo forced his eyes away.
Distracted by sound, the biker cut was over-hearing a crowd. There were more than twenty. Weren't there only four old people to start with? Some got invited no doubt, and somehow, he was sitting upright and by some person. He had no idea who it was, a guy. Kasaya, he thought, undoubtedly, had to of been hating this attention.
It wasn't like he knew him, but still, he sort of did, in a way, he guessed.
"Ah. Finally awake mh?" The gentleman smoked on a cigar. "You don't know your limits. Here, have this water."
Bakugo slumped, took the bottle lazily, trying to sit up straighter, unsuccessful. 'Shit. Where th'hell am I?' His mind echoed: 'Pent'houses'
'Oh.' That's it, his roommate had said that where now?
Elevator. He'd said that in an elevator.
Small space.
Arm around him.
A strange vibe went through him.
Odd.
The voice. Hushed, a whisper speaking only into his ear: 'Pent'houses'.
Why'd he feel? Not right.
A small shake went up his spine. He closed his eyes and began chugging the bottle. Bakugo didn't 'get' the chill up his back just now. He tried to drown it out with how fucking thirsty he was.
Kasaya came over to Suki. He looked down on him, standing, his attire bore his bare chest from the kimono wrap, unwrapped a bit to low, nearly to his belly button. Clothes dropped nearby Bakugo.
Little did Bakugo know, Kasaya was still too drunk to really even get himself into that wrap the right way, and he'd thrown up six times in the bathroom, after he'd woken from being stone cold out. At least drank some water.
It was strange with how loose the kimono was, but the knot was super tight around his hips. If he couldn't get it to layer right aroung him, then Saya figured he better knot it tight, because if it'd fall off, nobody would want to see those horrors written all up and down his thighs in deep scars, or the one up closest to his groin that he was the most ashamed of. At least he had on shorts under it.
"Ye'got water, good. I'didn't wan'anyone t'see this."
"Wha?"
"You mean what you can do?" The older gentleman butted in. "Once your brother over there said that you and him were descendants of Masamune Date, I couldn't resist." The man puffed the cigar. "I collect ancient Japanese culture, y'know. I'd buy that sword of your's, for a decent price."
"No'chance." He turned back to Suki. "Y'got wrapp'd'up. Won't happen'again. It'z bullshit, I'kno. Thing's'll go back, tape'ull go bac'down."
The older gentleman looked confused. He had no idea what the teen was even talking about. He'd sworn he just watched them be 'close' in the elevator.
The old man had just spied it out of the corner of his eye. He didn't care, turned his head back away from it. But now they were aloof towards each other?
The dynamic of their relationship to the old man, who turned away again while sitting next to the blonde, was just downright odd.
(The man obviously had no idea that they didn't have a relationship, nor that they didn't even know each other well, nor that up until tonight they'd never really talked, looked at each other or anything. The old man didn't even know both passed out drunk in the elevator, and had forgotten what even happened there!)
Saya was pushing the subject... carefully, with soft voice. It was Bakugo after all, not that he knew him, but he remembered the room agreement.
Internally, now that he knew what Hisashi had been up to this whole time, he was hell bent on reversing it. Reversing it because he felt stupid for even giving a tiny amount of thought to it, to think that anything was there period.
What kind of idiot was he? For thinking that Bakugo speaking to him was a natural bond (albeit fishy the intent)? Now, that he knew it was one born of his older brother being a sap and forcing them together, the terms made more sense. Hisashi probably had said something before he's arrived in the room, that had somehow forced Bakugo to say yes to coming. That had to be it. He wondered if Hisashi had given him money or something.
He hoped not. But money was the only thing that made sense, because what didn't... was Bakugo's own personal actions: The things he told to him with his babbling. It seemed real. The Whys. He'd figure them out. He guessed.
It's true! Like a bulb flicking on, Bakugo's mind suddenly flicked on too. He felt his eyebrows furrowing crossly.
That moron drug his ass up here! He did him involve him in some random shit, the very crap that he hates!
Bakugo instantly became more alert. Where the fuck was the exit? He tried to stand, and he just flopped back down. Legs weak.
"Sit down for now kid. Or shall I call you Bakugo?" The older gentleman said, looking back.
Bakugo sneered.
"Ah, I know who you are." The older gentleman said. "You're the tournament winner."
Kasaya's eyebrows crunched. 'What tournament?' He seen red eyes flash meanly at the old man.
Ah shit. That was something the blonde didn't like. Didn't like it at all, Kasaya could tell. Would he use his fire in here? Surely he knew better than to use it while drunk, in a penthouse of all places, with the rich that lived up here. But honestly, Kasaya would put nothing past someone like him!
He was coming out of it pretty quick, cornered by someone he didn't know that knew him.
Saya had no doubt he'd be blown to bits tomorrow or something. Great.
He walked away, glancing back to Katsuki just one time. He didn't want to leave him there to fend for himself in his state with that old man, but he'd already gone and done it. He'd realized. He'd messed up. He was wrong to invite Bakugo along.
Kasaya hadn't followed his own rule in regards to him, instead he broke it. He assumed he'd want to come, and just haphazardly invited him.
God damnit, his alcoholic blabbing mouth!
Their eyes met, as that old dude next to Kugo keep rambling into him about some tournament or something.
Red. Gray.
Kasaya's face began to fall flattened again as they began staring.
Why'd he even think that this was possibly a thing? A friendship? How naive!
And again, a stare from Bakugo... at him, he put his cross necklace inside his v neck shirt. Slammed it inside of it, rather.
'Stupid.' Kasaya thought. The blonde's calm was gone, and a firestorm had began emitting again, blasting across their surface once more. It was a unique chance, and kind of pleasant to of at least seen his roommate in a different light, but it didn't last. It was over.
Kasaya knew, he just couldn't have friends.
Hisashi. Damn his kind nature. He had his brother, and as much as his brother tried, again, he'd just never understand. Bakugo was a complete psycho, perhaps like him in a way, but different. But even Hisashi thought that somehow he could drag their asses together, but it'd never happen.
With just one last look at the other, Kasaya didn't hope that it would come off as him implying a mere 'Sorry for all this', but rather that: 'I'm a waste of your time.'
Because that was what Kasaya actually thought. That he had wasted Bakugo's time, and that he was a waste of space, and a wastebasket of issues nobody needed to have around. Burnt up or not, tomorrow, things would go back to how they were.
He'd see to it. If not his silver tape, then he'd find some somewhere, and make that line be there again. They could never... be friends.
Bakugo caught that face.
It just kept falling as it stared at him, to have no emotion, nothing at all. Back to how it was before.
Before... tonight.
Somehow, it caused him to settle.
Even with this old idiot booming on in his right ear about his quirk and the tournament, the other opponents and such, like he was a damn celebrity, seeing Kasaya go from slight animation that he'd seen earlier as he'd drank with him on the patio, back down to just being this mysterious form again... everything around him was no longer noticeable. The old man's voice fuzzy, and not understandable. Like words fuzzing inside the books he tried to read while his head was in this.
What was happening in his mind right now? Bakugo didn't understand, just like that shiver. Suddenly, his own selfish anger from being dragged into something he didn't want, was lessened by his own want to 'get' his roommate. To understand. Kasaya's face said something and nothing. How the blonde was captured. Again, he wanted answers.
To Kasaya... Bakugo suddenly looked? Confused? Bakugo's crimson eyes twitched back and forth across his own face, like they were utterly consumed in thought, his pale face's frustrated tension beginning to lapse. Where'd that sudden flash of anger go?
What kind of looks were they were sharing?
Something hit Kasaya. 'Like he can'see thru'me.'
Saya shivered, turning abruptly, cutting it off, that thought a bit 'too real' for him.
He somehow remembered a finger sliding up his back. Where?
That strange thought shoved him off the opposite direction into a side room. It didn't matter. He'd find out the Whys then drop the subject. Not let Diasuta think more on it.
He might be confused about Bakugo's actions, whether they're selfish, unselfish or both.
The paper. Ibara.
But one thing was clear, it was that he'd over-stepped Bakugo's line, any type of 'anything' he thought was there, it was not. Bakugo would always just be the way he was.
And... he'll always just be the way he is.
He still hoped that someday he could still save himself. Somehow. But that hope was fading as the time was going by, he was just too pent up on it to say anything to anyone.
Just counting the days until he was old enough to head to prison.
As much as he wanted to stand up on that mountain and scream out his freedom, just as equally he felt condemned to a cell block.
He never said anything to anyone about how he felt. It was that... there was no one to listen.
Nobody.
Probably never.
Not even his own brother could get it.
Not a soul who could grasp the depth of his screwed up life.
For someone would have to be so patient and understanding to be able to muster it all.
How could someone understand unless they've experienced a similar screwed up path?
There was just nobody like that.
Kasaya came out.
Bakugo's eyes tracing every step. He was still mad and brooding that he was dragged here, and pissed that he couldn't escape without help, which was the last position he needed to put himself in, he couldn't even stand he felt so loose!
How jacked up this was! 'Stupid!' He cursed himself. He'd let this go to far! He'd let himself go too far! The fuck was wrong with himself? This game had brought him into a position of being dependent. His own selfishness and curiosity had done it!
He was rethinking drinking again... really damn quick.
Maybe he shouldn't drink ever again, if it brings him to this!
Dependency was sickening. Grossed him out. He was so pissed at himself, now alert and watching.
What was he about to witness?
As Blue Bun had come back out, and Hisashi too, they didn't look at anyone, only at each other, grasping hands, then letting go to sit on the floor in silence.
His roommate was dressed in light fencing armor, leather plating, and he sat on the ground across his brother, hair in a high bun on his head, sword across lap. Hisashi the same, except his armor was black. Kasaya's gear was white, unlike his dark hair. It looked like they were meditating, heads down, eyes closed.
Suddenly a gong rang somewhere, loud and metallic and it silenced everyone in the room. Announcement from some woman: "Samurais Prayer begins now. Please quiet your voices!"
The old man next to Bakugo, as his talking had revealed, was the owner of the suite, that had bought the liquor, whose work anniversary it was. The man was a tell-all type, that was just overflowing with stories and information.
It was like watching a movie with someone and having them talk to you through it the whole time, Bakugo was most annoyed.
"The samurai always pray before battle."
"Hm." Bakugo had his arms crossed. "Who'z Masamune Date?"
"Not too up on your history are you?" The older man hushedly whisped. He had on an expensive silk embroidered suit.
"No. Wors'subject." Why he even felt like entertaining this bafoon was a mystery. He'd paid for their $550 sake so he guessed he better form some damn words. So rarely it was that he bent to anyone. He'd rather just blow the place up!
"Masamune Date served lord Nobunaga Oda. He was his right hand man so-to-say."
Ah. Bakugo knew that name. That was ancient, ancient Japanese culture. Nobunaga Oda tried to unite Japan back in the day, died in attempt, but he was a hell of a warlord, so ferocious that he was called a demon.
"So, Date is their ancestor."
Bakugo looked at Kasaya and Hisashi. Silent on the ground sitting legs crossed in prayer of Bushido.
That was another tid bit. 'So.' He crossed his arms lackadaisically, put one of his legs over the other. The blue headed moron was a descendent of a samurai?
Everyone had powers these days, how not useful a sword was with quirks unless it directly influenced your quirk somehow. Perhaps that was the case?
"The sword that the younger one has, that was Date's himself. Priceless. Amazing it's still in tact."
Bakugo noticed the man was almost drooling. So, that was why Kasaya was so pissed his brother had brought it to him on campus? Told these people? He'd sworn he recalled somewhere tonight that the roommate mentioned using it for something too, and that he hated it because of that.
Kasaya hated the sword, but he wouldn't let that old man buy it? What was the deal with it then?
He had a sentiment to it. That was the only answer.
Bakugo scoffed. Gross. Sentimental value. It still wasn't shit that would make him hate living with him the rest of the year though... Why?
People whining over sentimental crap pissed him off. Just another thing about cannon fodder he hated. If it served you no good purpose, fucking get rid of it, and stop letting it sit and collect god damn dust! His stuff was all packable and ready in less than a few hours, if he had to bale out for any reason!
The difference was, Saya didn't throw it in his face. Bakugo had had no clue the sword even existed. The sentiment he had to it, it was an unspoken one. Just like every damn other thing. Only with some questioning tonight did anything bubble to the surface with him under the influence.
He doubted Kasaya would of said shit if the drink hadn't been enabling it.
He had used the sword though, in the past? For what? What would someone use such an old piece of crap, useless sword for?
Suddenly the two samurai in the middle of the room stood. Bowing to each other, turned and went to opposite sides of the room.
Bakugo watching Kasaya intently.
He will see this.
His shit show, this shit show. He better come out of this impressed. He crossed his arms deeper, huffing.
The first strike of a sword shook him up, the sudden metal on metal, raw, loud. Bakugo's head snapped, alert. The old man next to him clapped resiliently, like a little kid. How gross!
Bakugo couldn't take his eyes off him. Kasaya. Crouching down, Date's sword was fast, the way he moved was low, menacing, the sword, straight vertical, he paced on the attack.
Hisashi was facing him with his military sword.
Up, left, right, clash, growling from Hisashi, a push back, setting the taller off balance.
Kasaya jumped to the side, and surprisingly, with sword in right hand, and Hisashi throwing a blow, Kasaya still was able to meet the slash with his sword, letting his blade slide down the other sword, knocking it back, as his left hand helped him do an easy flip in full armor, and landed quiet, back into a defensive posture.
Like it was child's play.
Everyone in the room clapped at the show.
Bakugo smirked. 'Okay.' He was intent of seeing it through even more now. Blue Bun had some skills.
Hisashi suddenly started speaking. "Let's make'it more'interesting." He unsnapped his neck guard and threw it to the side exposing skin.
A gasp from the crowd. Skin exposure meant danger. Some people clapped. Bakugo didn't.
Kasaya did the same, except his face was flat and emotionless unlike his older brother's who was smiling and happy obviously. The one with the longer hair, walked his stuff over to set it down by Bakugo's dress shoes.
They didn't look at each other. Bakugo was pissed he was even in-charge of someone else's things. He was no ring-man like in boxing! He was contemplating screaming at him later! What bullshit.
The fight ensued.
It got dicey. Kasaya had Hisashi cornered. And in one movement, Kasaya elbowed his brother right in the face, locked his arm and took his sword.
"Match one!" A girl yelled. That had been short.
Hisashi slammed a hand down on Kasaya'a shoulder and shook him and Kasaya told him to get off.
A second match began. Less armor again, earning more squeals from the crowd as that meant more movement from the samurai. Less armor meant they could move easier acrobatically.
Bakugo really got that Kasaya was athletic. Perhaps as athletic as him, but in a different way. He knew things that Bakugo didn't know. That he got. He was actually... captured by it. How the hell did he pull of handling a weapon and moving like that?
He noticed passion. Fervor. Like with that paper he wrote.
The swords clashing, and Kasaya did a front flip, and combined it with an ankle lock, downing his brother, Hisashi swung his leg, but Kasaya flipped back, and swung to meet his sword.
Kasaya lunged in and out, somehow, now he was fencing, like a Spaniard, quick, and Hisashi couldn't hardly keep up, then suddenly he swished the sword across his military blade, and spun the sword right out of his hand.
It skidded twenty across the floor.
'Match two!'
They were down to kimono's now (they had under clothing underneath), but they were bare-footed, all armor gone.
Kasaya had light colored leg-hair like Bakugo had, he was just making a stupid comparison in his head as he watched idly by, now moving to sit up better in his tufted seat.
This added so much more to Bakugo's play.
He wanted him to spill it all to him.
How the hell did he learn this? Hisashi couldn't of taught it all to him, because the elder was struggling!
Bakugo had thought Kasaya was a total loser when he was in the room with him initially, pegging him as a soft, quiet husk of a person who was probably scared of him or some shit, like it mattered.
Bakugo was wrong. He was wrong.
There was ultimate heat all over Kasaya's face, cheeks pink from whatever forms of martial arts he knew, huffing, grunting, flipping, punching. His hits were powerful. It was like watching a cage fight, but the person also having a deadly weapon.
Hisashi stood no chance. A trained military academy student, set to graduate, set to be an officer... no chance.
The one with the bun had him cornered. Whipped. Beaten.
Bakugo was in fact, entertained.
His face, heated like that. It gave him another odd shiver as he'd thought for a second he'd seen it before. Recently? 'Damnit.' He moved to cross his other leg instead. Uncomfortable.
He focused on his eyes instead.
Hollow.
Empty.
How?
There was no passion.
There was no light.
He really must hate this. That was the only explanation.
Blue Bun hated fighting with the sword.
A deep hate that pales you in the inside.
Bakugo could relate. He'd felt that. So vengeful towards Deku that it literally numbed him. He still snarled around about it, what a self-absorbed little ass-hat, whining about not having a quirk, bawling. His childhood bother.
It sucked not having a quirk, but seriously what a cry baby!
And did he care at all about what had happened to him?
Sure, Deku always was asking 'Are you alright Kacchan? Are you okay Kacchan? Kacchan are you okay?' Blah Blah Blah. But the little shit never asked the right fucking questions.
No he wasn't fucking OKAY.
He'd never be OKAY ever again.
He heard a vivid animalistic growl, and watched his roommate's body learch back.
He had only taken his eyes off for a second, and missed it! Bakugo couldn't help but stir up in his seat. What happened?
It was Kasaya, like an angry tiger. He'd gotten cut. Blood leaked on the floor. His hand suddenly to his shoulder. The kimono ripped open there.
Someone suddenly screamed "MEDIC!"
A bloody hand came off of the wound, and it grasped onto the handle of the sword and it got into a defensive posture.
The man next to Bakugo waved the medic off.
Suddenly Bakugo was pissed! He was injured and he was going to let it go on?!
He was getting ready to give this dickwad earful of screams on fighting etiquette, but instead found himself glued to his chair.
Because... suddenly Hisashi was thrown at Bakugo's feet, and on his back on the ground, yelling at Kasaya to stop! Like he was screaming at a maniac!
The older man next to Bakugo jumped, and Bakugo?
His head just suddenly snapped up, arms still crossed. He was unable to move, Hisashi's worn out dead weight of a body on his feet, legs.
A whoosh sound, and Date's sword was at Hisashi's throat, and the tired, sweating Hisashi was gulping, as the flat sword was raising his chin, the point poking into his skin at his neck.
"Diasuta." Hisashi choked out. "Stop. Stop." A choke again. "Stop. Please stop."
'Wha? Disaster?' Bakugo quirked an eyebrow, looking at Kasaya. He noticed the sword. It was old, but it was not dull. It was a needle.
This. Bakugo then realized, this wasn't a joke.
The other didn't look at Bakugo at all, his black kimono with peonies open, and it had a slash in the shoulder of it, ripped, there was blood leaking on the hardwood, blood all around over his hands.
He didn't look like Saya anymore. The face was blank like a true killer.
Bakugo watched. What was going on? What the fuck was this bullshit?!
"Snap out'of it!" Hisashi's chin tilted up a bit more, sword underneath, a choking sound.
"Y'cut'my shell." Kasaya's voice was menacing, not his voice. Dark. Evil.
It had a texture Bakugo had never heard.
It moved him.
Red eyes squinted. Arms uncrossed, hands fell loose. Confused.
It was a haunt, the way he loomed over the other. Sadistic.
The whole room heard amongst the silence.
In a long drawn out minute, Hisashi kept choking, and Kasaya pushed the blade in just a bit into his upper neck, to let a small trickle of blood leak onto the blade.
"STOP! STOP!" Hisashi shouted. Stricken fear waved over him. Eyes bulging, he was truly scared.
The older man was horrified and started to move away.
Bakugo started to back away, was? Was Kasaya going to? To his?
Kill?
Shit!
He did the only thing he could think of. He learched an open palm in front of Hisashi's face.
"KASAYA!" Bakugo barked. "Ill blow y'up!" He got louder. "LET'HIM GO!"
That snapped him out of it. Kasaya suddenly looked up, Hisashi's blood trailing down the sword in a single long red strand.
Bakugo seen the strangest thing. A swirl. Like Kasaya had just had no idea what he was doing.
Suddenly, the sword fell from his hand and landed with a heavy clank on the floor.
Bakugo lowered his hand. Confused to all hell. His eyes! They were completely gray! There was only a pin prick of an iris! What the hell?!
Kasaya's silhouette swayed.
Then with no warning, his eyes lulled, and he tumbled to the ground.
A fall so abrupt that his whole body slammed into the floor, loud, heavy, head cracking on the wood.
Hisashi began to sniffle, and crawled to yank Kasaya up from the ground to his lap, where he was visibly terrified, and wrapped his arms around his younger brother.
Kasaya was like putty, his head lazily laying on Hisashi's shoulder like a child, and Hisashi began to run his fingers through his hair like someone would a pet.
He was whispering into Kasaya's ear.
But instead of a response, anything at all, Kasaya was blank, and motionless, grayed out eyes, far away, alien.
His eyes were open, but Kasaya wasn't 'there'.
Hisashi was calming the man who almost killed him, back down to reality?
Bakugo's face was suddenly shaken from the scene at his feet to everyone screaming and cheering in the whole room.
Of course, everyone had taken it as show!
Bakugo knew better! These idiotic fucks!!!
Bakugo was able to catch banter as Hisashi stood to carry him off bridal style, picking the swords up, both leaking thin trails of Satoko blood over the floor.
The elder brother hushedly cooing over and over to the gray eyed one, in his ear: "I'm so sorry. I got you. I got you. I got you now. It was an accident. I'm so sorry, it never should of happened. Shit. I didn't mean to cut you. I'm so sorry I woke it up Saya. Shit."
Through Hisashis hushed speech to him, Bakugo watched the strangest thing he sworn he'd ever seen. The irises of his roomate's eyes began to pulse, sporadically.
Out, in. Large, medium. Full, small, it was like they were reacting to Hisashi's words. Like they had a mind of their own.
Like they were reprogramming? Absorbing?
No. They were listening.
(Little did Bakugo know, it was Diasuta that was listening. A tale tell sign as the irises fluctuated in size. For Hisashi, by cutting his skin too deep on accident, caused Diasuta to take control on it's own, because Kasaya has no control over his own brain. No control of Level 2 or 3 at all.)
A man within an inch of his life? Apologizing to his almost murderer?
He, without a doubt, the blonde, had thought a man's blood was going to be spilled all over his feet tonight.
But why would the almost victim be apologizing to the murderer?
Sick irony.
His roommate. He was fucked up somehow. He got that clear now. Clear!
Real fucked up!
He wanted out of here now!
Bakugo realized he was able to stand, and made a struggling B Line out of the large room, looking for the exit, finding an elevator and pushing the button.