A/N: Dead Dove and problematic content reminder

████ ████, ██-██, ██-███, ███ ███, ████ oil, ████████, school girl attire, an angel-themed █████ outfit, and a studded paddle with the word '███' embossed on it to leave a nice message on someone who got lucky enough to have it used on them. Nothing like some good trashy shopping after eating a trashy Matsuya beef bowl being done by the trashiest of people.

Ichimatsu stared down into the black, nameless, over-sized paperbag he carried against himself with the sort of smile that would have anyone cross the street to switch the side of the road they walked on so they wouldn't have to be near him. How could he not be darkly beaming though when he had all these lovely little gifts for Karamatsu as a surprise? He would have gotten the catoninetails and the fuzzy handcuffs, but why when he had real handcuffs and whips already?

"Just a little bit longer, and then I'll make you mine for good~ . . .," Ichimatsu cackled to himself under his breath, "I do hope you are being a good boy while you wait for me, because-"

"Ichi!? Ichiiii! Hey!" An all too recently familiar voice rang out.

Oh no. It couldn't have been . . . It was . . .

Yanagita.

So easily that smile Ichimatsu had was sucked away as he looked up to see his old friend standing there as if he had stolen his grin. Not just that, but he felt as if all the blood from his body was suddenly being sucked out. The frigid sweat leaking down his face didn't do anything to help cool anxiety's heat.

And sure enough, with a single, quick glance to the side and back, there was the Akatsuka Hotel he had been passing by.

All these people were going out of their way so that they didn't have to step near the walking-dumpster fire that was himself; meanwhile, he should have been the one paying attention to make sure the he went out of his way not to take the street back where the Akatsuka Hotel was located on!

"Sorry!" Yanagita put his cigarette out, "I should have checked my messages sooner, but I guess I got lost in my thoughts out here while having a smoke," he started to reach in his pocket to take out his phone.

"But I didn't . . ."

"Hm?" Yana blinked once with a tilt of the head as he stared down at his screen. "Odd . . ., seems I didn't get any message from you. I guess the reception is bad here for my carrier." He shrugged, "Well, it doesn't matter. You're here now, so . . . Anyway, you brought something here?"

All within the same moment, Yanagita put his phone back, stepped forward, and glomped his arm around Ichimatsu. And still within that same motion, Ichi had dropped the bulky bag in which he held.

████ ████, ██-██, ██-███, ███ ███, ████ oil, ████ ████, school girl attire, an angel-themed █████ outfit, and a studded paddle with the word '███' embossed on it all slid out over the sidewalk around their feet.

Ichimatsu felt as if both his stomach and throat knotted. The two of them stared down at the pile of perversion with uncomfortable looks. Except Ichimatsu appeared more mortified while Yanagita appeared more uncertain with the limp smile he got. "Perhaps . . . we should go inside," he cleared his throat softly and then stepped back, knelt, and put everything back in the bag and stood up with it.

Forget sweating buckets. Ichi felt like he was sweating full bathtubs. He had to think of something, and quickly. He could do it. He was a lawyer. A top lawyer! It was part of the job to be able to come up with bullshit on the spot and have people eat it up.

He couldn't just grab his bag and leave without saying anything. Yanagita was going to be in the courtroom everyday. The conversation would surely be persistent no matter how many times he'd try to shoot it down.

Yet, it wasn't like he wanted to go into that hotel with the man either!

The whole predicament was just lousy. Yana was under the assumption that he had come here to see him for some cocktail meeting. So now, it appeared like he was here to chase some cock tail. Why did people have to assume so much?

"Ichi? Ichi . . .?"

How many times had Yanagita said his name?

Ichimatsu swallowed slowly with a couple blinking winces.

"Look . . .," Yana tucked the bag in one arm as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's really no big deal. I mean, we can talk about this. Yeah?"

No . . .

No . . .

No, they could not talk about this!

That was what Ichimatsu wanted to say to Yanagita, but the man was already walking with him towards the hotel lobby. If only he could snatch his bag and run. That wouldn't work though, because then it would present the persistent conversation problem.

Great . . . They were now past the lobby and entering into the elevator.

The close-doors button had been pressed. Floor number 14, which was actually 13, was pushed. They were the only ones within this moving closet.

Ichimatsu felt like each floor they ascended past was like another year snapped off from his miserable life.

This had to end now.

He had to take care of this before they reached the room.

"It's . . .," Ichimatsu mumbled the rest of the words.

"Eh?" Yana turned to face him, brow raised and head turned.

"It's . . . it's not for you . . ."

"Huh?" Yana tilted his head more.

Ichimatsu coughed once with a lightly shaky point towards the bag in which the other held. "It's not for us."

"Oh!" The weak smile Yanagita had came back with just as weak of a laugh as he looked down to the bag. "Of course! Of course it isn't-I was just ah . . ." Hastily he pressed another button on the panel. The top floor. "Holding it for you."

A further feeble laugh was tied within Yanagita's exhale as the elevator came to stop at floor 13, or '14'. He didn't budge though, nor did Ichimatsu. The only movement from Yana was the touch of the 'close-door' button.

Ichimatsu gave a prominent side-eye. What was going on here? Why floor 13, and now the top floor? Yana had exhaled, but Ichimatsu took an inhale as he was about to comment on their stage and just what kind of 'play' he was expected to be performing.

Before any such words could occur, Ichimatsu was having his bag squished back at his chest for him to take.

The trembling he previously had within his hand had traveled through his arms as he had no choice but to accept the bag back. That should have been a good thing. Still, the fact that Yanagita knew now what was in there . . .

The elevator chimed for a second time as it reached the final floor. The second the doors slid open, it was obvious what it was. The cocktail lounge.

"Well, here we are!" Yana stepped past Ichimatsu, lightly grazing his hand along his shoulder in the process which caused for him to almost recoil.

"Great . . . more lo-fi music," Ichi grumbled as he forced himself to walk after Yana. He still had damage control to complete.

"Hmm? What's wrong with lo-fi? I find it relaxing," Yana gestured at one of the plush chairs for Ichimatsu to take.

"Hmph. It's nothing but old 50s songs' instrumentals being ripped, slowed down, and then a single filter thrown over it." The claim of the chair was accepted by Ichimatsu, and he bitterly sat himself down with the bag tucked securely between his ankles.

"Hmm . . .," Yana placed a finger to his lip in thought as he sat across from Ichimatsu. Across, but still close. Their knees nearly touched, which Ichi did not find comfortable. Even with his foul expression and slight fidgeting within the chair, Yanagita didn't inch himself back. "I never realized that before. Way to be so blunt about something and ruin it," Yana laughed again, but this time it was back to being light-hearted and sharp.

And still with the joy of laughter, Ichimatsu did not perk up. He only gritted his teeth further. "Yeah. Well. I'm a lawyer. That's what I do."

"Mmh . . . Mhmm . . .," Yana nodded several times as the finger at his mouth went to stroking his chin now. "And you're going to win your brother's case, right?"

At those words, Ichimatsu's whole figure tensed as he even straightened out his back a bit. It wasn't the thought of winning or losing the case that did it, but just the mention of 'his brother' when he had all those things between his feet for him that he had to explain to Yanagita about.

Of course to Yanagita though, it appeared otherwise,"I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer to help you out. Because with a bit of tweaks, I'm confident you'll be coming out the victor here. A lot is on the line . . ." Moving his hand then, he raised it up some. "So how about we start with a high-five!"

The first vain within Ichimatsu's eyes pulsed. Gruffly he cocked his head away. "Tch-"

"Aw, c'mon . . .," keeping his hand up, Yanagita moved his other one to meet his fingers softly at the side of Ichimatsu's face in order to turn his head back to face him.

Without a split second delay, Ichimatsu raised his own hand and slapped Yana's away from touching him.

"Oh . . .," slowly Yana sighed and relaxed himself more in the chair, "I guess that is a start. Maybe your own brand of high-five."

"Shut up-"

With those two words, Yana's smile vanished. "Man . . ., I feel like I'm the star in my personal Invasion of the Body Snatchers flick. It's a shame, really."

"Shame? You're being so annoying!"

"But you were the one who decided to come here."

"Actually, I-"

"It's a shame, because I really liked who I thought you were, Ichimatsu."

Ichimatsu.

"Ehhhh-" an irritable smile arched Ichi's lips as he glared.

"I supposed that really is history though," he shook his head and tapped the call button for the server. "Because we're here now, in the present, for your future. For Karamatsu-kun's future."

A few seconds of silence loitered between them before the server arrived. Yanagita kept his eyes on Ichimatsu for a moment longer and the looked to the waiter, "I'll have a Lotus Martini, please."

The waiter nodded and then turned towards Ichimatsu.

". . ."

". . ."

"Hey . . .," Yana straightened out his posture, "order something, yeah?"

Ichimatsu turned his head to the side, looking away from the two of them. "Corpse River Number Two."

"Oh? Absinthe?"

"I already took an Advil today, and that didn't do a thing for my head," Ichimatsu reluctantly turned his sight back to the other brunette.

The server had taken the order and left. Now here the two of them were again, staring at one another. Ichimatsu could feel his eyes falling towards the ground, but that meant looking down into that bag. Yanagita didn't allow for the silence to last long between them, and Ichi wasn't sure if he appreciated that or not.

"Don't you think it's weird?" Yana idly rubbed at the side of his own face as there was almost something sullen about his expression.

"Hm?" Ichimatsu blinked once, slowly. 'What is weird? Me sitting across from a guy who I faked being best friends with where our legs are almost touching while I have a bag full of sex-gear between my feet?'

"I was trying to dissect the notes I took earlier in the cafe. Something really feels off after talking to Karamatsu-kun."

"O-oh . . ." Ichimatsu once more briskly turned his head away, the corner of one eyebrow twitching. That something could be a lot of things. Was Yana picking up on their messed up intimacy? Or was this just him trying to process the way 'things had changed' when it came to him and his brothers?

"He really doesn't seem like the type of guy that could kill thirteen people."

"Oh?" Ichimatsu cocked his head back swiftly. That's what the comment was about?

"But at the same time . . . I don't know what's up with you either. You didn't seem like the type of guy that would be so . . ."

"So what?" Ichi retook a glare.

"Well if we're talking about death, I feel like the Ichi that I knew died and right now I'm having a conversation with a stranger."

"Maybe he did die. Maybe Shittyma-Karamatsu murdered him too."

"Heh . . . well do we know?"

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"That's what is weird. I was talking about the Recycler Slayer."

"So Karamatsu then."

"Mmh . . . You really think he is? You're supposed to be defending him that he's not, Ichi. It's odd that the Recycler Slayer hasn't left a single thing behind at all at the previous crime-scenes. Not even a partial-print. Heck, even the murder weapons never belong to him. This guy was careful not to get caught. I mean . . . how many months have they been chasing him . . . or her . . . or anything. Fifteen months?"

"Sixteen months."

"Damn . . . really? I better get my facts straight if I'm going to be writing this article."

"Yes."

"Aha . . ., well regardless, I'm sure you've realized it too with being the high-grade lawyer that you are-that something just doesn't seem right about this whole situation. Do you really think someone so careful like the Recycler Slayer would let himself be caught on camera? Even if it was just his back? It's weird . . . because that video . . . really did appear to be Karamatsu-kun with that . . . jacket."

"Shut up."

"W-what?"

"Like you said, I realized this all too. I don't need to hear your thoughts on the case. Save it for your dumb article. I don't need your help."

Yana parted his lips to retort, but stopped himself with hesitation. Or, maybe it was the return of the waiter with their drinks that had paused him. He thanked him wordlessly with a tip even though the practice was uncommon. It had been more of something to channel his restless energy into.

"I don't know . . .," Yana sighed as he stared down at his martini. "I think you do need my help." A deeper uncomfortable frown crossed over him as he glanced back up to see his old friend already downing half his drink without a single flinch. Seriously, what was Ichimatsu now? "Maybe not about the details of the case like that, but this date was supposed to be about reshaping your disposition if . . . this is who you are now."

"Eh-" The glass was so roughly slammed down on the side table, Yana was worried for a second that Ichi would end up breaking it. It was clear though, Ichimatsu was not happy at all on multiple levels. "That word again. Date. Stop it. You know I have someone already!" The bag was kicked, it once again tumbling over and half the items sliding out where Ichimatsu made no effort to hide them or display any shame this time. "And what do you think I am!? A dog? A fucking dog for you to train!? At least call me a Scottish Fold!"

"A-A Scottish what?" Yana shook his head and tried to casually slide the risque items out of sight and back into the bag some with his foot. "Look, I'm sorry about my choice of words, okay?" A slight laugh came from him, though forced but honest. "I mean, it's obvious you have someone already with that stuff," he took a sip of his cocktail and slightly pointed towards the flopped over bag," and I'm quite surprised with the way you're acti-with whatever you're going through right now. So you have to satisfy my curiosity then. What is she like?"

"Huh? Who?" Ichimatsu stared as confusion took over his anger within a flick of a switch at that statement.

"Er . . . your girl. Is it someone I know too? Did she go to school with us?"

"Ah-" rapidly Ichimatsu re-picked up his Corpse River and inhaled the rest of the other half of the sinful beverage.

". . . Should you really be drinking that type of alcohol like that . . .," Yana mumbled under his breath.

"My . . . My . . ."

Again the glass was aggressively put down on the table, this time a crack really did travel up the side of it.

With a hard breath, Ichimatsu wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "My girl- she's . . . she's um . . ."

"Ichimatsu . . .," Yana lost any sort of mirth he had as the weight of grave gravity took over his poise, "is this relationship consensual?"

Stop.

How many times had Karamatsu told him to stop and he didn't?

Karamatsu . . .

That's not what they were talking about now. No, they had moved on from that topic. Now, they were talking about some girl that didn't actually exist.

God. Even with the Absinthe, somehow Ichimatsu's head still hurt and his eye brow still wouldn't stop its cringing. "What the hell do I need for some relief, a Goddamn cyanide pill?" he grumbled to himself.

"What was that?" Yanagita was slowly inching himself forward, closer.

"Hm," with a slight tilt of the had down, Ichimatsu closed his eyes and let a smile take over his face. "Of course it's consensual."

"That so . . .," Yanagita took another sip of his drink and rested an ankle over a knee. "Okay then. She tells you 'no'. What is your response?"

The smug smirk Ichimatsu had was so easily taken away by that return question. He just barely opened his eyes as he stared deadpan across to his very much unwanted company. "Is this a conversation we need to be having-"

"It is."

"As if you need to know about my mating habits."

"No, not particularly, but I said I was going to give you some pointers on how to present yourself so that you win against Atsushi. He was part of our group too, and there was a point where I ended up spending more time with him during senior year. And from what I have seen, it seems like you should be treating the courtroom as if it was a romantic partner."

Not a single twinge of a muscle, not a single shift within Ichimatsu as he continued to keep his eyes netted over Yanagita. And yet despite this, it appeared as if the rings around his eyes were sinking deeper as a dark shadow overtook him. There was absolutely zero relish in this 'help' of 'pointers' at all.

The bar's lo-fi music faded into the background. Each click and clank of a glass being filled or delivered pierced Yanagita's ears. Ichimatsu may have been utterly without motion, but he found himself starting to squirm and shifted within his seat due to those cold eyes burning into him.

The stare outstayed its welcome.

And just as Yanagita was about to get up to excuse himself to visit the restroom, the page was flipped back to where Ichimatsu was smiling again.

Slowly Ichi leaned forward, fingers interlocking as he brought his hands to his face and placed his weight on his elbows over his knees. "Well then . . ., what answer do you want?"

Yana stiffly sat back without being conscious that he was moving further away from Ichimatsu. "Huh? For . . .?"

"For when she says no," Ichi's grin grew more. "Why do you think I went shopping," he reached down and pulled up the packaged ███-ball without removing his sight from Yana. "Shove this in her mouth . . ."

At once alarm drew Yanagita's eyes wide and mouth open.

"Oh? Don't like that answer? Well . . . that's okay." Still with keeping his leer in place, Ichimatsu nonchalantly dropped the gag-ball only to reach down and pick up a smaller package to flash between them. The ████ tablets. "Or, I could force these down her throat instead until that no becomes a yes."

Quickly Yana shook his head in protest, "Ich-"

"Still not satisfied with that? Because the simplest answer of them all . . . is that I could just knock her out so that she can't say anything."

Ichimatsu could visually see Yanagita swallow. Yana had placed his hands on each arm of the chair. His heels dug into the carpeted floor, and with a press of his body weight, he pulled the chair backwards to create a good foot between them now. No more were they at risk for their knees to touch.

"What's the matter?" Ichimatsu slowly sat up straight, actually straight instead of being hunched over for once. "Don't you think it's weird? How we can spend our whole lives thinking we know someone . . ., how someone can just act so flawlessly to convince you in thinking they are one way, when really . . . all along, they are only someone you thought you liked, because that someone was who they wanted you to believe that they were. Or no . . . that's the easy explanation. That's not so weird, really . . ."

In the continuous slow-motion manner, Ichimatsu moved his right hand up between them, breaking his eye contact at last. He stared at his hand, turning it around to look at his own palm. "What's weird is when you find out they weren't acting for you . . . but for themselves. They wanted to convince themselves they were someone else . . ."

Ichimatsu still surveyed over each line and callus of his hand, something he saw making him frown instead now. "But after a while, it gets so tiring because . . ." in a gradual sway of his arm, he re-took his empty martini glass from the side table.

Holding it at the base, Ichi proceeded to drift his fingers up and down along the crack that had damaged it. Up and down, up and down, up and down until the slightest of crimson smears tinted along the glass from the slice it made from under his fingertip. "People are so fragile. In the end . . . find the right pressure point, and they'll break. No matter what they have inside of them. So . . ."

Gently the martini cup was placed back down. And with that, Ichimatsu's shifty smile had returned all over again. "How about it then?" He raised his hand up between them, a thin line of red liquid seeping from his index, "High-five~?"

Turning his eyes from that other set over to Ichimatsu's hand had made Yanagita realize just how much the air within the room was stinging him. He had not had a single blink, and he actually felt cold. As before, he shook his head. This time much more stiffly. He moved his mouth to say something, but his throat stung just as much as his skin did.

"Hmph~" Ichimatsu lowered his hand, all the way down, and shoved his supplies back into the now-crinkled black paperbag. He stood up with it and peered down at his ex-friend. "Cat really got your tongue, huh- But you get it now, Yanagita? You've came here wanting something that you are now so sure that you don't, because I've changed your mind. In just a few words, I've taken away any questions you have had about someone and who they are. I've gotten rid of any hesitancy of the unknown of what is the actual truth now. I've left you . . . completely speechless. So don't worry~"

The bag shifted as Ichimatsu moved it to carry against himself with one arm only. With that same hand that had been previously been asking for the high-five, he gave Yanagita exactly two light pats over his head. Enough to wipe the blood from his finger within his hair. "Because I'll do the same with the courtroom as I have done with you. Just like a romantic partner."