Fic: Stealing Kazuya
Title: Stealing Kazuya (fic for help_japan )
Rating: PG-14
Genre: AU, Crime Fiction, Humor
Word count: 13,500
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies
Summary: Jin is an art thief thinking his latest assignment will be the heist of his life. Instead of a painting though he somehow found himself in possession of a complete dork painter named Kamenashi Kazuya.
A/N: Written for nanaenam , redjae and gyelle9 for their bids in help_japan. Thank you so much, ladies.
Stealing Kazuya
Ten years ago
He watched across the street, partly hiding his face with the newspaper he was pretending to read. He tried to keep his expression bland even as his anger boiled within him. He had taken great pains to fortify himself and temper his emotions. He needed to. He had first learned to when he was still a boy to survive the tragedy of his young life. Then later because it was necessary for his chosen profession. He did not reach the height of success and wealth by giving in to weaknesses of emotions. The one time he let his guard down and allowed himself to care he was betrayed. But that was over. He would not allow himself to slip again. And he would get retribution.
As he watched the scene across the street, he scoffed inwardly. It was easy to get revenge by taking away all that was precious to someone but he would not. Not just yet. He would not allow himself to be lulled by the impatient dictates of uncontrolled anger. Revenge must be inspired and created with painstaking effort. One could not rest until every element was in its proper place. It must take time for its value to appreciate. Revenge is an art.
♥
His head hurts like shit.
He opens his eyes but as soon as he does light blinds him and cuts through his brain. With eyes shut tight again, he props himself up. He runs his fingers through his hair and, sure enough, he feels a lump at the back of his head. He groans.
"Are you okay?”
His eyes fly wide open. The light cuts through his brain again but he endures the pain and keeps his eyes open. Right in front of him, on a low cushioned square stool, sits one of the dorkiest-looking person he has ever seen. “Who are you?”
“Oh. You're hurt bad. You probably have amnesia.”
Amnesia? Panic starts to well inside him. He doesn't know the worried-looking man in front of him. He immediately digs through his brain and ticks facts he can recall about himself:
Name: Akanishi Jin, Age: 26, Occupation: Thief, Agent: Pi, Current Employer: a certain JK, Current Assignment: Get hold of most the precious work of art in Japan
Jin calms a little knowing he still remembers essential facts about himself. At the very least, he doesn't have total amnesia, if he has amnesia at all. He looks at the dork in front of him.
“I don't remember you. Do I know you?” he asks.
"I don't know. Do you?”
"I don't think so,” Jin says, unsure. There is something about the other one that stirs something in him but, try as he might, he cannot recall ever meeting the guy before.
"Oh, so I guess you don't have amnesia," the other man casually concludes.
Jin is confused. “Who are you?”
"I should be asking you that,” the dork says. “Anyway, I'm Kamenashi Kazuya. I believe you just broke into my home.”
Jin's about to protest that he is an art thief and not some common house burglar but the lump on his head starts to throb. The dork just said he is fully aware Jin has broken into his house yet sounded not the least bit alarmed nor even angry.
Baffled at such oddness, Jin stammers, “I...No...I...Your home?”
"Yes, I live here in the gallery. I own this place,” Kazuya casually explains. "Would you like some tea?" He stands up. A baseball bat rolls from beside his feet towards Jin.
The throbbing spreads out and Jin feels like his head is about to explode. He knew something was weird with this assignment.
A Week Ago
Jin had been seriously contemplating his career of choice. He had been a thief half of his life and he had yet to make a name in the thieving community. Either he makes the heist of his life or go for early retirement.
As luck would have it - or so Jin thought that time - his agent called a couple of weeks before and told him that a certain JK wanted to get his services.
It was a simple job - break in the art gallery called K2, get the target and he would be paid ¥100 million. The yen sign shone so bright in his eyes it blinded him to accept the job immediately.
The gallery - an old 3-storey building mostly done in bricks but with old wooden doors - was located in the corner of a street lined up with similarly built old establishments. The street probably had its heyday during the 70's. Its ambiance reminded Jin of his old senpais who still live in happy haze for smoking too much joint in their younger years.
A Gothic-looking young man came and opened the gallery a little before 9 in the morning. Jin observed that not much people go in. Mostly old people or odd-looking ones or odd-looking old people.
Jin went inside the gallery as a pretentious nouve riche complete with a blond bimbo wife (in fact, his “trainee”, Koki Tanaka). The Gothic-looking young man - who grudgingly introduced himself as Ueda Tatsuya - was the only person who manned the gallery. He had dark hair, dark nails and dark aura. He did not smile and barely talked. When Jin and his "wife" entered the gallery, Ueda looked at them once then ignored them.
Jin's "wife" inquired about the most expensive painting they can purchase supposedly for their new palatial home but Ueda said all paintings on the first floor costs the same - ¥20,000.
Jin wondered who in their right mind would pay that much for such ghastly works. He had studied art and history to better his craft as an art thief but even if he didn't anyone with two eyes beyond the age of six would not be awed by the paintings on display in K2 Gallery. The works on exhibit, all done by a certain “n”, were mediocre bordering on being downright ugly.
The oil paintings were mostly done in primary colors with no hues and depths. The subjects were people and places in everyday scenes - couples in the park, children at school, families at home and the likes. Jin thought that if the piece he was to steal was done by “n” - which Jin thought probably stood for “no talent” - he was certain it was not worth stealing for a hundred million yen fee. The value of the paintings would not appreciate to a million yen even three hundred years into the future.
On the second floor were similar paintings but were not on sale. The patrons sat around the round tables drinking coffee or tea and to Jin's bewilderment were all in awe at several paintings set in elegant frames far more expensive than Jin thinks the actual paintings deserved.
When Jin asked their opinion on the exhibited works, most looked at him strangely then ignored him except for one old man.
“They're fine,” the old man said who seemed enthralled with a garish painting of the gallery building's facade. Jin tried not to look aghast.
He presumed his assignment must be hidden somewhere in the third floor which, the snooty Ueda flippantly said, was the stockroom and was off limits.
Later that day, Jin and Koki, posing as phone linemen, surveyed the perimeters of the gallery for possible alarm devices. There were none. Only dark curtains were all that hid the view inside the third floor. One window was even strategically placed beside the fire exit.
Jin found it weird that an art piece so valuable would be hidden in a gallery pretty much left alone between 6 in the evening and 9 in the morning.
"This is way too easy," Jin said to Pi over the phone. "Even a blindfolded Tanaka on three-inch heels can pull off the job."
Pi chuckled. "Tanaka would not know fine art if he married one."
"You sure this isn't a set-up?" Jin asked. It's a standard question.
"I assure you, it isn't. JK wants a clean, precise job."
Something nagged at Jin about the assignment but he couldn't put a finger on it. From experience, he knew anything that seemed simple was nothing but. Yet something tugged at him to accept the job. Of course, he was reeled in by the money.
"Okay. I'm in," Jin said.
"You swear on Mona Lisa's smile you'd go through this?" Pi asked. It's his standard question for assurance. Jin answered in the affirmative but Pi had a follow up question which was not at all standard. "Do I have your word for it?"
Jin found unusual Pi's need for further assurance."You know you do," Jin said. "There is honor among thieves."
"Good. Fail and it's the end of your career."
Jin grimaced reminded of his first foray into the world of thievery he was thirteen and filched the wallet of a man who turned out to be a policeman in plain clothes. His handler gave his "amateur" hands a beating so bad he could not hold chopsticks for three days.
Not that Pi would beat him should he fail but it could be worse. He could land on TV - World's Worst Robberies.
"I won't fail, Pi. Now give me the details," Jin said.
It was their standard operating procedure: Jin gets the details as soon as he gives his word he would take the job.
"What details?"
"Don't fuck with me, Pi..." Jin warned. "Give me the details."
"I have no details,” Pi said. “That's the challenge, see? JK said anyone who gets the job done deserves what he's paying. Oh, and you have five days to do it." With that, Pi hung up.
♥
Jin curses himself. He knew better than to let his pride get in the way. Instead of taking on the challenge, he should have went straight to Pi and killed the bastard together with that old fart named JK. He should not have let himself be blinded by the money. The combination of pride and greed was a sure ticket to damnation.
And damnation feels imminent as Jin studies the person in front of him. Kamenashi Kazuya is wearing the most hideous looking purple flannel pajamas with huge pink turtle prints and a pair of clunky black army boots. His straight dark brown hair is tied on top of his head. He is wearing horn-rimmed glasses so thick, his eyes are distorted. Behind his glasses peeked thick bushy eyebrows.
“So this is how you look like up close,” Kazuya abruptly says.
Jin snaps out of his silent scrutiny. “What did you say?”
"I said this is how you look like up close.”
"What do you mean?”
Kazuya rubs the length of his index finger across his nostrils, making a squishing sound. “You were a few days ago."
“You saw me?” Jin asks.
"Yes. You look better up close, " Kazuya says. Jin studies Kazuya, thinking the latter is simply bluffing but he is proven wrong when Kazuya adds, "Your wife looked better when he was phone line man."
Jin is stunned. He has been seen. Observed even. By Kamenashi.
Yet, neither he nor Koki knew the guy existed at all. Jin wants to bang his head on the wall. He has been nothing but stupid lately. Another proof is that very moment, when he should have gotten out of that room fast there and then, he remains sitting on the bed, transfixed, and even accepted the offered cup of tea.
"Who are you again? And why are you here?" Jin asks
Kazuya clucks, exasperated. “Kamenashi Kazuya. I live here," he says and adds, "Did you come to get me?”
Jin is once again caught by surprise and he chokes on his tea. “What? No!”
"Why did you break in then?”
For the life of him, Jin cannot understand why he is totally being disarmed of his savvy. By a complete dork, no less. He is even more surprised at himself when he blurts, “I came to steal something.”
Kazuya makes another squishing sound with his nose then snorts. “Steal what?”
"I don't know,” Jin replies and he hates himself. For one, he just told the truth to his would-be victim and, two, it made him sound like a completely inept thief.
Kazuya yawns and Jin notices the metal braces on Kazuya's lower teeth.
“You’re wearing braces? Are you nine?” Jin asks, incredulous.
"I'm 24.”
“You must have one hell of a crooked set of teeth.”
"They aren't crooked. They have gaps.”
"An inch apart?”
"I just had the braces a year ago. What's your problem with my braces? Are you planning to steal my teeth?” Kazuya retorts.
Jin falls silent wondering himself what's his preoccupation with the painter's mouth. He shakes his head. It must be the damn beating his head took.
He places his cup on the bedside table and impatiently demands, “Just give me the damn painting and I’ll leave.”
Kazuya frowns. “What painting? Mine? Take all of it if you want.”
Jin grunts. “If you mean the ones exhibited in the gallery, forget it. They’re not worth shit.”
He belatedly realizes, Kazuya is “n” but the painter doesn't seem to be insulted at all. Still, Jin feels sorry for being too blunt.
“I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just I'm looking for something else.”
"There’s nothing else here except my work." Kazuya places his cup on the floor then pulls in his legs under him.
Jin thinks either Kazuya is one hell of a liar or he was seriously fucked by Pi. Before he can say another word, he hears a faint sound coming from below. His instinct kicks in. He lunges at Kazuya and clasps a hand around the painter's mouth. He cocks his head, strains his ear while Kazuya tries to pry his hands off.
“Shh,” Jin whispers and Kazuya stills. “Is anyone still here? Does anyone else live here?” he whispers in Kazuya's ear. Kazuya shakes his head.
Jin looks around. He lets go of Kazuya, takes their empty cups and stashes them under the bed.
"What...?" Kazuya tries to say but Jin's hand are on his mouth again while the other hand reaches out and turns off the lamp.
The sound of footsteps gets louder. In one quick move, Jin grabs Kazuya’s waist, yanks him off the bed and drags him out of the window, making sure to close it shut.
He pins Kazuya against the brick wall. As they stand on the ledge, he is thinking how he will beat the living shit out of Koki who is supposed to be his lookout that night. He also thinks the painter feels delightfully warm against him. Jin shakes his head. He must focus.
In a few seconds, the light is turned on inside the room.
"No one’s here but somebody obviously lives here,” says one voice.
"I think he's the painter," says another.
There's shuffling inside the room.
"I seriously doubt it’s one of these. Maybe the painter who lives here can tell us where it is.”
Jin's mind whirls. The job is not exclusively his; others are in on it. Pi definitely fucked with him.
"Let’s just wait for him then," says the first voice. “Turn off the light.”
The room goes dark.
Jin weighs his options. He can go back inside and shoot it out with the others but he's a thief, not a killer. Besides, he hates mess. Or he can just slink away and take the painter with him. His choice becomes clear when he feels the man in front of him lean heavily towards him. Kamenashi Kazuya has fainted.
♥
Jin opens his eyes and he almost bolts off the bed when he sees an unfamiliar familiar face. He is lost for a moment before the strange event of the night before returns to him. And it gets stranger. The painter is on his bed, sleeping peacefully.
He nudges Kazuya. Kazuya grunts. He shakes Kazuya.
“What?” Kazuya snaps.
"What are you doing here?” Jin asks.
"You probably took me here,” Kazuya mutters groggily.
Jin clucks. He knows he took Kazuya to his apartment when the latter collapsed against him but he also clearly remembers leaving the unconscious painter on a futon he laid out by the foot of his bed. “I meant what are you doing on my bed?”
"I sleep on bed,” Kazuya mumbles and goes back to sleep.
Jin watches Kazuya and realizes that with long hair disheveled and without the eye glasses, the painter does not look as dorky. He shakes his head. He needs a cold shower.
“What?” Jin asks.
“What?” Kazuya asks back.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“Does it bother you?”
“Yes!” Jin says because he has just taken a shower and is about to get dressed but Kazuya's sitting on the bed watching him. It unnerves him. “Stop staring,” he snaps.
Kazuya lies down on the bed and covers his face with a pillow.
Jin hurriedly slips on a pair of boxers and pants before he tugs off the towel wrapped around his waist. He frowns when he's done, wondering why he's acting like a priggish virgin.
“I have to go somewhere,” he says as he puts on a white button-down shirt.
Kazuya grunts. He has apparently gone back to sleep. Jin kicks him.
"What?” Kazuya asks, taking the pillow off his face.
"I said I have to go somewhere.”
"Okay,” Kazuya says and turns away from him.
Jin briefly considers tying up the painter but the thought of Kazuya bound to a bed troubles him in a way that has nothing to do with kindness. He adjusts the crotch of his pants.
♥
"Did you set me up, Pi?”
Pi looks up from the newspaper he is reading. He breaks into a wide smile as if seeing his best friend.
"Well, good morning to you, too. Come in, sit down and have a drink.”
Jin remains standing beside Pi's table. He knows he looks odd wearing white button down shirt tucked inside a well-fitting black slacks in a manga cafe - Pi's legitimate business where he transacts all his illegitimate businesses - but Jin doesn't care.
"Sit down, Jin.” Pi repeats as he gently folds the newspaper and lays it down beside his coffee. He leans back and straightens his red suspenders. He waits for Jin to sit. When the latter does, he asks, "What seems to be the problem?”
Jin's eyes bore into Pi. “I'm asking you again. Is this a set-up? Because if it turns out it is, you know I will fucking kill you to bits.”
Pi laughs. “Why would I bite the hand that feeds me? What happened?”
Jin stares into Pi’s eyes. “There were other guys who came in after me looking for the painting.”
Pi smiles. “So, it was a painting. Did you get it?”
Jin does not reply. Pi knows very well that if he got the painting he would be there collecting instead of confronting.
“Am I not the only one on the job?”
Pi shrugs. “If JK commissioned others, I don't know. You're not the only thief in Japan. Though I was hoping you'd get the job done first. Should I give the job to a stiletto-wearing Tanaka as you suggested earlier?”
Pi is obviously taunting but Jin thinks better than to take the bait. “Speaking of, where's that dumbass?” he says, changing the subject.
"He's in a hospital somewhere. Got beaten up senseless last night,” Pi replies, dismissively waving his hand in front of his face.
"Too bad,” Jin says. “I was hoping I'd be the one to beat him senseless.”
Pi raises an intrigued eyebrow but Jin merely smiles. He is not about to tell Pi that Koki completely failed as a lookout which lead him to take home a painter and not a painting. If his agent does not know of Kamenashi Kazuya's existence, he wants it to remain that way. They are lawless men, after all. Trust is a foreign word among them.
"You still on this job?” Pi asks when Jin keeps quiet.
Jin smiles. He's got Kamenashi Kazuya. He will get the painting. “I got five days, right?” With that, he stands up.
"Only four now now including today,” Pi says, standing up.
Their staring match is interrupted when firetrucks noisily zoom past the street outside.
♥
Jin stands back and watches the commotion. People are running out of the building guided by firemen and the police. Other law enforces are already blocking off the street with yellow ticker tape while two firetrucks are poised in front of the building. Black smoke hovers above the building. Red orange flames taunt the firemen from a window of a corner room on the uppermost floor. Firemen on hoisted ladders of the firetruck train their water-spewing hoses towards the source of fire.
Jin is enthralled by the scene. There is something captivating about watching a disaster unfold in a place otherwise ordinary and familiar. He watches until no more people comes out of the building and the firemen signals to the police that everyone has apparently been evacuated.
He turns away and is about to leave when it strikes him that indeed everything seems familiar. He stops and turns back and looks around. The street looks familiar because he is actually standing on his street. He looks up and is stupefied when he realizes that burning building is his apartment building. And in that building he occupied a corner unit on the uppermost floor.
When it fully dawns on Jin that it is his apartment burning, his first thought is the painter he left inside that morning.
"Kamenashi!" he exclaims and is about to run when he hears a voice speak from behind him.
"What?"
Jin turns and sees the painter standing behind him. Jin is so relieved to find the painter safe, he unself-consciously hugs him tight. Kazuya stands unmoving and simply watches the smoke coming out of the building.
"I hope no one's hurt," the painter remarks.
Jin lets Kazuya go. Kazuya is just in pajamas. He is about to comment on it when Kazuya cuts him off.
"I'm sorry I burned your house."
♥
"I'm hungry," Kazuya complains.
Jin just keeps walking briskly, tightly clutching Kazuya's wrist.
"I said I'm hungry."
Jin abruptly stops. Kazuya bumps into him.
"You burned my apartment, Kamenashi!"
Luckily, the fire was contained in Jin's apartment and no one was hurt. When the police started asking around for the gutted apartment's owner, Jin decided it was time for him and Kazuya to leave.
For two hours, Jin has been dragging Kazuya up and down streets as he tries to calm himself. Except for his personal belongings and several fake ID's, he did not lose anything of value.
Still, he is rendered homeless because Kazuya, upon waking up, cooked noodles. Then he heard a kitten meow and went to look for it, totally forgetting that he was cooking. By the time Kazuya found the kitten, thick heavy smoke was already coming out of the locked door. Jin was only thankful Kazuya had enough sense to pull the fire alarm.
What ires Jin the most though is that he cannot get mad at Kazuya. On the contrary, he blames himself. He should not have left the painter alone in his apartment. Kazuya should not have been in his apartment in the first place. He doesn't know what possessed him to take the painter home.
"I said I'm sorry," Kazuya says but does not sound a bit remorseful. "And anyway, you stole me."
Once again, the painter manages to astound the thief. "What do you mean I stole you?" Jin asks.
"You broke into my home last night and said you were going to steal something. Then you took me. So, you stole me," Kazuya says, matter-of-fact.
Jin seethes especially because Kazuya makes sense. "I rescued you," Jin says. "Those thieves who came after could very well have torn you to pieces to get what they want."
Kazuya just looks back, face blank. "I said, I'm hungry," he says as if he was not just told that his life was in danger.
"God you're weird!" Jin exclaims.
♥
"Whose place is this?" Kazuya asks as they stand in front one of the doors in a posh apartment building.
“A friend's,” Jin says and takes a leather billfold from his jacket's inner pocket. He opens it and retrieves a couple of lock picks.
“It's okay for your friend to pick his lock?” Kazuya asks. Jin ignores the painter and continues picking on the lock. “We are breaking in, aren't we?”
“No,” Jin says and mutters a triumphant “yes” when the lock clicks. “It's voluntary house-sitting.” He turns the knob and the door opens and shoves the painter inside.
♥
Jin places the bowls of rice and pork on the low table then sits on the floor while Kazuya, sitting across, watches him. “What are you staring at?” he asks.
“You,” Kazuya says.
“Why?”
Kazuya shrugs and doesn't say anything.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Why?”
Jin clicks his tongue. “I don't like being watched.”
“Why not?”
“I'm a thief. Thieves don't like being watched” Jin says. He pushes a bowl of rice towards Kazuya then takes the other.
Kazuya looks at the food offered him for a moment before he takes it and starts eating. After a while he asks, “Why do you steal?”
Jin almost chokes on his food. "It's my livelihood," he replies and warily watches the painter. “Where's your family?” he asks before the painter grills him again.
“Dead,” Kazuya answers.
Jin frowns at the deadpan reply.
“My parents died when I was five. My grandpa took me in.”
“Where's your grandpa?”
“Dead,” Kazuya says then asks, “Where's your family?”
“What?” Jin asks, taken aback by the quick volley back of questioning. “I...they...I don't have one.”
“Why? Were you plucked from a tree?”
Jin narrows his eyes at the painter.
“Are they dead?”
“No!” Jin exclaims. He hopes his jerk of a father is but not his mother and his younger brother.
“Where are they then?”
“Away,” Jin says.
“Are they in jail?” Kazuya asks.
Jin scrunches his face, finding incredulous the painter's train of thought. “Why would you think they're in jail?”
Kazuya shrugs. “When people say someone is away they usually mean locked up in jail.”
Jin stares at Kazuya, wondering where the hell Kazuya gets his ideas. Probably his grandfather.
“So, your grandfather left you the gallery, huh?” Jin says, steering the conversation away from him again.
Kazuya nods, busy eating.
“What's he like?”
Kazuya shrugs. “Old.”
Jin clicks his tongue. “Is there something you can tell me that will help me?”
Kazuya looks thoughtful for a moment then says, “Stop stealing.”
Jin narrows his eyes at the painter and scoffs. “Dork,” he says.
“Thief,” Kazuya says.
Jin's jaw drops at the retort. He has always been proud - privately - of being a professional thief. Kazuya just made him sound like he is some petty criminal.
“Well, you burned my house. That makes you an arsonist.”
Jin simmers when Kazuya just smirks at him.
Jin lies wide awake that night. There is something that bugs him about everything. He just can't figure it out. He can't get his thoughts together and it's partly because Kazuya's fast asleep beside him, shirt has ridden up exposing so much flesh and pajama bottoms has ridden low and Jin can tell there's nothing else underneath.
He groans, turns away from the painter and squeezes a pillow between his legs.
♥
"You look tired," the takoyaki vendor comments. “Anything wrong?”
Jin merely grunts even if he was tempted to rant about how his life turned upside down since he found himself in possession of a strange painter. It was the takoyaki vendor's job to talk, not his.
"Things are pretty interesting around here," Junno says when Jin remains quiet. "It's hush hush but apparently there's been a break in at the K2 Gallery.”
“Yeah?” Jin asks. “Has anything been taken?”
“Yes,” Junno cheerily says.
Jin's heart skips a beat fearing someone has beaten him to the painting. Still, he manages to casually ask, “What?”
“A painter.”
Jin slowly looks up from the takoyaki in front of him that has turned into complete mush. He forces a smile.
“It gets better,” Junno says. “Now every thief and his henchman in Tokyo got in their wallets a picture of him because, apparently, the guy's the key.”
The smile freezes on Jin's face. He pays Junno way more than the food actually costs and walks away before he gives in to the temptation to knock the cheerful smile off the food vendor's face because he just officially turned from thief to kidnapper. He's in deep shit.
♥
As he rides a taxi back to his “borrowed” apartment, he mulls over the whole situation.
His contact in the police department confirmed that Kazuya's parents did die in a car accident in 1991 and that Kazuya was taken in by Shin, Kazuya's paternal grandfather. What baffles Jin is that Shin seemed to not have existed prior to this.
Stranger still, Jin found out that there were no reports made to the police that Kazuya is missing and that the K2 Gallery remains open and running as if nothing happened.
Jin thinks about the painter and wondered if Kazuya has woken up and ate the breakfast he made before he left (he didn't want Kazuya near the stove).
With the whole thieving community after the painter, Jin wondered what he will do with Kazuya. His mind is suddenly swarmed with thoughts of what he can do with Kazuya that has nothing to do with keeping Kazuya from other thieves and everything to do with him possessing Kazuya in so many ways.
He takes a deep breath. He's in serious deep shit. He looks out the taxi and sees a pharmacy. He asks the driver to pull over. He knows what he has to do.
♥
Kazuya yelps and tries to push Jin away.
“Stop moving, dork!”
“It hurts!”
“Of course, it does! Keep still so it won't hurt more,” Jin pulls away a little and stares at Kazuya who is glaring at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Just a little more,” he says and bends over Kazuya once more.
“I don't...aww!” Kazuya tries to push Jin away again.
Jin swats Kazuya's hand away and tightly grabs his jaw. “Shut up and let me finish!”
A few seconds more and Jin releases Kazuya. He stands back and smiles. “Done.”
“I hate you!” Kazuya exclaims. He puts on his glasses and gasps when he sees his reflection on the mirror. “What have you done to my eyebrows?”
Jin smiles. He takes out the hair dye and the pair of hair scissors he bought together with the tweezers in the pharmacy.
♥
“Don't you have money? Couldn't you just have bought me clothes?” Kazuya asks.
“Why buy when you can steal?” Jin says. “You should consider yourself lucky we didn't end up in a girl's apartment. Now change.”
Jin's heart jumps when Kazuya starts unbuttoning his pajama shirt right in front of him. He quickly turns around and curses at how his heartbeat is racing. He remembers how he longingly looked but forgone buying from the pharmacy his two favorite brand names - “Trojan” and “Glide”.
“Look at me,” Kazuya says after a while.
Jin turns around. His breath hitches. After plucking the annoying thick brows, he has cut Kazuya's hair and dyed it three shades lighter. And with the ugly pajamas replaced with normal jeans and black shirt, Kazuya is completely made over.
“I look hideous,” Kazuya says, frowning.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jin asks. “You look extremely fuckable.”
“I look what?”
“It's an expression,” he mutters softly, realizing his slip. He clears his throat. “Anyway. You clearly have no sense of aesthetics.”
“I do,” Kazuya says, indignant.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Kazuya says. “As a matter of fact, I think you're beautiful.”
Jin goes still. Kazuya stares at him completely guileless. It's Jin who turns around to hide his face because he feels a blush creep up his face like he's a 14-year old infatuated girl.
Hating how silly he feels. he stalks towards the door but when he turns around, he sees Kazuya has gone to the kitchen and is writing down something on a note pad.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jin asks.
“It's a thank you note. My grandpa taught me manners,” Kazuya says then adds, “You should leave money for the food we consumed and the clothes we took.”
“I'm a thief. I don't do manners,” Jin says but Kazuya doesn't move and just stares at him. He grumblingly takes out his wallet.
♥
"Is this where you hide your loot?" Kazuya asks as soon as they step inside a small studio-type apartment.
"I don't have loots. I am not a looter. I'm a professional thief," Jin says, indignant. He locks and bolts the door behind him. Jin tries not dwell on the insanity of his decision to take Kazuya to his safe house. But he figures he ought to take Kazuya where he temporarily stashes his stolen goods since, as Kazuya said, he "stole" the painter.
Kazuya, meanwhile, stands in the middle of the room and looks around the bare room save for a small wooden table, a wooden chest and a huge steel cabinet.
"You don't have much here either like in your apartment."
"I'm minimalist," Jin quips. He smiles but Kazuya just stares at him blank-faced as usual.
"Do you have anything stashed in here now?"
"No, I don't keep them here long." Jin places on the table the plastic bag from the convenience store. "I don't keep them. Period."
"What's the biggest you've ever stolen?" Kazuya continues with his inquest.
"You," Jin immediately replies. He chuckles briefly when Kazuya smirks at him. He sits cross-legged on the floor and starts taking out the contents of the plastic bag.
"I mean, what's the most expensive?" Kazuya sits on the floor, too, across the other man.
Jin peels off the lid from a plastic bowl and steam rises up from it. "A samurai sword." He pushes the bowl towards Kazuya.
"Really? Is it beautiful?" Kazuya looks at the steaming bowl then pushes it back towards the thief. "Mine's extra hot with green onions."
Jin takes back the bowl of steaming noodles and hands the painter the other bowl. "It was exquisite. Almost kept it, too."
"Why didn't you?" Kazuya asks.
"I told you I don't keep what I steal. They don't mean anything to me," Jin answers. When he looks up, there is an unreadable expression on Kazuya's face.
"You should really stop stealing," Kazuya says sounding like stealing is just a some bad habit and not a crime.
“I will,” Jin says, “As soon as I get rich enough.”
Kazuya looks thoughtful. Jin is grateful when Kazuya doesn't ask any more questions and starts eating.
"So, you actually live off your paintings?" Jin asks, jumping the gun before Kazuya ask more questions because Kazuya seems to be very good at steering their conversations towards him.
Kazuya nods as he noisily slurps the noodles.
"No offense but people actually buy your paintings?"
"Yes." Kazuya sets down the bowl and fans his face with his chopsticks. His face is flushed "And my grandpa left me money."
Jin offers a bottle of water unable to peel his eyes off Kazuya's lips unbelievably red from the "extra hot" noodles.
"Thank you," Kazuya says, taking the bottle. "He left me quite a sum."
"And how much is quite a sum?" Jin asks, intrigued. He knows Kazuya could not possibly live off his paintings. Very few artists do.
Kazuya takes a couple of swigs of water then wipes his mouth with his hands. "I'd survive even if I don't work for the rest of my life."
Kazuya's lips are still red. Red and moist. Jin licks his lips and swallows.
"Do you like art?" Kazuya asks.
"What? Yeah. I appreciate 'em," Jin answers. He frowns and looks away from Kazuya.
"What kind?"
"I prefer artifacts. You know, swords, potteries, jewelries. Though I like paintings, too."
"I like ukiyo-e most." Kazuya resumes eating his noodles.
"Woodbox print? Why?"
"Why not?"
"They're like mass-produced paintings."
"They're not. And anyway what's wrong with mass produced prints? There are really beautiful woodbox prints," Kazuya defends.
"There are many of them." Although Jin would have to agree that there are beautiful woodbox prints, they just don't compare to individually hand-made paintings.
Kazuya frowns. "What's wrong with that?"
"It takes inspiration and painstaking effort to create genuine beauty. It cannot be done twice, much less several times," Jin argues. "A replica is exactly that. A replica."
"Prints are not replicas. And why should something beautiful not be reproduced?"
Jin cannot not understand why he is arguing with the painter or why he is having that kind of conversation with him in the first place but he cannot stop himself. "Why should it be reproduced?"
"Why not?"
"A beauty is enhanced by its individuality. It's value lies in its inaccessibility," Jin says, his tone higher than usual.
But the painter refuses to give in and counter-argues, "If something really is a thing of beauty, why should only one own it? Isn't it better if it's appreciated by more?"
"No!" Jin exclaims, aghast at Kazuya's idea. "Imagine if everyone owns a real Mona Lisa. It'd be like gang-raping her." When Jin sees the baffled expression on Kazuya's face, he falls silent.
For the first time, Kazuya breaks into a genuine smile. "So you really like art," Kazuya says. "You're like my grandpa."
Jin is embarrassed at his uncalled for outburst. Sheepishly, he says, "He ranted like a lunatic, too, when talking about art?"
"Yeah, he's possessive about art like you," Kazuya says. He finishes off his meal by drinking up from the bowl what remains of the noodle soup. He places down the empty bowl and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "He was also a thief like you."
Jin chokes on his noodles.
Part 2