fffffffff does not have JOKER icon for this
Written for impynymph, for je_whiteday. ♥
Title: A House By The Sea
Drama/Pairing: Joker: Yurusarezaru Sousakan; Kudo Kenji /Miyagi Asuka (Nishikido Ryo and Anne)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them. -Kahlil Gibran
A/N: To impynymph, when I saw the ‘pairings/etc/females you’d like to receive’ part of your request, I instantly latched onto the idea of writing a JOKER fic. I really, truly hope you’ll enjoy this. Happy White Day! <3 (Love-and other drugs XD-to my beta readers tinyangl and frostbittenlove for the input, and sinonymity for the professor-like edits and criticism. <3)
The police headquarters where Asuka asked to be transferred operates like a well-oiled machine: calm, quick, quiet and efficient. It's exactly what Asuka wants, except there are some days when she thinks it just might be too calm and quiet, and it makes her miss the way Date yelps when he spills hot coffee on his shirt, and the way Kudo barges into the office and tries to chat her up before being banished back to his storeroom-turned-forensics room. There are days when, utterly frustrated with a case she’d be currently handling, she’d find herself pushing her chair back with every intent to escape to Kudo’s room-submitting herself to his not-too-subtle advances was a welcome distraction, at times-only to realize a beat later that she wasn’t in the same division, the same office anymore. He wasn’t going to be there.
Asuka reaches for her mug of freshly-made coffee and takes a gulp, burning her tongue but managing not to spill it on her shirt.
Her phone beeps. Asuka-chan, the mail begins, followed by a barrage of smiling emojis. I’m bored. Entertain me.
Usually when Kudo mails-which was actually usual-Asuka’s first instinct is to always ignore it. But today she decides that maybe she’s feeling a little sentimental.
I’m busy, she replies. Kudo-san, is there any current news about JOKER?
You replied! comes his quick answer. Ah, but does Asuka-chan care more about JOKER than me?
Asuka finds that she can’t quite bring herself to answer the question honestly. Quietly she tucks her phone back in her pocket, after saving his mails in the phone folder designated especially for them.
You’re not very fun even though it’s been a month since we met.
She wonders sometimes if Kudo somehow gets a perverse kick out of it, still relentlessly pursuing her after all this time. She wonders if it could actually mean he likes her for real, or if he really is just that desperate for a kiss. She wonders if, should she oblige him with a kiss, he’d expect something more. That particular thought makes her flush and take another throat-scalding gulp of her coffee.
It never occurs to her to think that maybe he is lonely. Just like she is.
We’re in a world where we can’t put away the villains.
A picture is attached to his next mail: chopsticks digging into a bowl of ramen so delicious-looking it makes her stomach rumble. Asuka realizes just then that she hasn’t had lunch yet for the day. Having ramen with Date now, it says, accompanied, as usual, with smileys. We should eat out too, some other time.
I’ll go join you right now, she finds herself replying, and picks her coat up before striding out of the building with a faint smile on her face.
When she gets to the ramen shop-she doesn’t even have to ask where-she finds only Kudo at one of the tables. It isn’t hard to spot his usual Hawaiian-themed shirt among the throng of customers.
“Date-san had to go,” Kudo explains the moment she slides into the seat in front of him, but not before yelling “Asuka-chan!” and waving like a maniac when he sees her. “I can stay, though, so I waited for you.”
“Is he busy?” she inquires, after asking for pork ramen from the woman who had come over to take her order. “What case are you currently working on?”
“It’s not current. He’s asked to re-investigate the case of the missing eight-year-old from six years ago.”
“That one… but isn’t the statute of limitations almost nearing its expiry?”
“That’s why he’s looking into it.” Kudo’s voice is almost amused, but Asuka can’t help but note that there is a touch of pride to it. “The last person she was seen with is still around. Evidence points largely to the man, but-”
“He can’t be prosecuted,” she finishes for him, feeling that familiar sickening emotion that always rose up from the pit of her stomach at the idea of yet another unsolved case on their tally. “And then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“JOKER will step in, right?”
Kudo doesn’t answer. She presses on, “JOKER will take matters into his own hands again, won’t he? That’s what will happen.”
Her ramen arrives just then, but suddenly Asuka isn’t very hungry anymore. “Kudo-san, don’t do it. Don’t help him.” She doesn’t like how he suddenly can’t quite meet her eyes. “Why do you do it?”
“Someone has to,” he finally says after an eternity. “If they can’t be legally brought to justice-”
“But it’s wrong!” she cries. Several patrons look up from their meals, not too pleased with having their lunches disturbed. Shame-faced, Asuka ducks down and takes a quick slurp of her soup, wincing as it burns her tongue and inwardly hating herself for having done it one too many times lately.
“The world isn’t painted in black and white, Asuka-chan.” Kudo’s voice is low, and there is none of the playfulness it usually possesses when he is around her. To her surprise, he rises from his seat.
“You’re going?” She hates how she sounds almost disappointed.
“Maybe next time we can go on a real date.” To her relief, a smile, though rueful, is back on his face. Just before he leaves, he adds, “And… the world doesn’t revolve around JOKER. I hope you remember that.”
I’ll be sure to show you I can create a world where JOKER is not necessary.
“So do you have a boyfriend?”
The man who asks is another government officer in the same department. He sits on her desk with an air of suaveness while simultaneously crumpling her neat pile of papers, something Asuka loathes. She barely spares him a glance, reaching for another file while calmly answering, “You are aware, aren’t you, Harada-san, that such questions can have you penalized under the anti-sexual harassment law in the workplace?”
It’s as effective as shooting pepper spray into his face. Harada makes himself scarce, and Asuka lets out a huff of irritation as she tries to iron out her files.
Name, Kudo Kenji. Place of birth, Kanagawa. Blood Type O.
Family. Mother deceased.
Father: Kudo Shohei. Currently residing at the Mahoroba Nursing Home.
Known physical characteristics.
Keloidal scars spanning left and right shoulder blades. Believed to have been caused by prolonged physical abuse.
“He’s cute,” comes a voice over Asuka’s shoulder, and she doesn’t even jump, only too used to how people read over other people’s shoulders in the police force. A fresh cup of coffee is placed on her desk. The girl somewhat resembles Takigawa Mina-chan from her old police department, but her name, if Asuka remembers it correctly, is Takanori. She murmurs her thanks, and Takanori beams. “So is he your boyfriend?”
“Please,” Asuka groans, reaching for the coffee and making sure to blow on it first before taking a careful sip. “Not you, too.”
“I really admired the way you handled Harada-san earlier, though,” the girl confesses, clutching the tray to her chest. “He’s a creep. He tried to hit on me, too.”
“The next time he does, kick him in the nuts,” Asuka mutters a bit savagely, and just as savagely turns a page. Takanori edges away from her and mutters something about having other jobs to tend to before leaving Asuka alone.
She sighs and reaches for her phone. Kudo hasn’t mailed for days.
Someone tried to hit on me, but I scared him away by saying it was sexual harassment. Which it was, if you think about it. She presses ‘send’ before she can change her mind.
Asuka-chan, you mailed first, comes the reply, with a heart. Does that mean you miss me?
“Idiot,” she mutters, though she’s not entirely sure if she’s referring to him, or herself. Cheeks pink, she shoves her phone away and bends over his file again.
It’s painful. I don’t know what to do with myself.
The people at the Mahoroba Nursing Home strictly follow the protocol of having only known family members visit their residents, but they bend, if grudgingly, when Asuka flashes her badge. She looks around in fascination as she is led inside.
“Kudo-san is surprisingly lucid today,” the nurse informs her, walking down a stone pathway leading to an open garden.
“Lucid?” Asuka echoes, brows furrowing slightly as her heels click against the ground.
“He suffers from dementia. It’s a degenerative illness that commonly occurs in old people. Not only does loss of memory occur, but also loss of patterns, feelings, and abilities. Well, Kudo-san isn’t that old, but his records do say he was an alcoholic… that’s also a huge contributing factor.” She glances at Asuka with a curious look on her face. “You’re a police officer? Do you know his son, then?”
Asuka hardly gets a chance to open her mouth to reply when the woman plows on. “He comes here sometimes, but Kudo-san doesn’t remember him. He keeps asking the young man who he is each time he visits. Ah, here’s Kudo-san!”
They approach a man with a stooped back and a slightly balding head sitting on a wheelchair. Papers with scribbles drawn on them are perched on his lap. His hand is tightly clutched around a blue crayon, and he eyes them with slight suspicion and, Asuka thinks, guilt in his gaze. “Yes?” he says, voice raspy like sandpaper.
“Kudo-san,” the nurse chirps, all sugar and smiles. “You have a visitor today. Her name is Asuka.”
“Asuka,” the older Kudo repeats, squinting up at her.
The nurse leaves them alone. Asuka gives him a nervous smile, but sits down on a nearby bench. “You draw well,” she says politely.
He glances down with a bemused smile that eerily resembles his son’s. “No, I don’t,” he corrects her with a chuckle, and Asuka flushes slightly at the lie she’s told. “Kenji drew it better. He can do a lot of things, that boy. He must be all grown by now. It’s been years. But I think he still hates me.” His face crumples, and for one horrible moment Asuka thinks he will cry. “I never did right by him. He was a good boy.”
She doesn’t know how to respond, but finds that she doesn’t really have to when he speaks again. “A man comes here sometimes. I see Kenji in him, but he doesn’t talk like Kenji. My Kenji always laughed. That man never smiles when he talks to me. It’s almost like he’s angry with me.”
“Kenji,” Asuka begins, saying Kudo’s name for the first time, “is always laughing… he still does. But when he’s angry, it shows.” She smiles gently, leaning forward to place her hand over one of his, squeezing it lightly. “I don’t think he’s angry with you, though. I think he’s forgiven you.” He said he wouldn’t see you again, but he has. Oh, Kudo.
The older man gapes up at her. Then a curious look, like a veil passing over his eyes, comes over his face, and he slouches slightly in his seat. “Where am I?”
Asuka reels back, blinking, slightly terrified that she might have rattled him out of lucidity. A nurse hovering nearby comes to her rescue. “There’s nothing to worry about, this is normal. It comes and goes. His condition has a rather rapid progression.” The woman looks at her wrist watch pointedly. “Are you almost done? The head nurse gave you permission to be here only for a limited time.”
“Ah, yes.” Asuka stands up, still not entirely sure what brought her here in the first place. “Kudo-san, it was nice meeting you-”
“I want to go home,” he mumbles, head drooping slightly. “Kenji…”
There’s a lump stuck in Asuka’s throat. “Don’t worry, Kudo-san. I’ll tell him to take you home.”
His hand reaches out, taking hold of her wrist with a surprisingly strong grip. “Kenji… give this to Kenji.” He gestures to the piece of paper on top of the pile on his lap, and Asuka takes it after he lets go of her.
It’s a child-like drawing of the sea with a father and son holding hands on the shore.
When I’m feeling down, it helps to have someone be there with me.
Their actual date happens in none other than the ramen shop, both of them coming from their respective shifts at work. Kudo is hungry and it’s near, and Asuka isn’t fussy. She does take care, however, to wear a skirt, release her hair from its usual ponytail and add a touch of lip gloss, too self-conscious to add anything else. Still, the look he gives her when she walks in convinces her that it’s enough.
“Next time I’ll take you somewhere nicer,” he says, grinning, as their ramen arrives.
“Who says there’ll be a next time?” she shoots back reflexively. Much later, though, she says, “It’ll always be a date as long as you pay.”
His father’s drawing is folded and tucked neatly in her purse. She avoids talking about him. Kudo leads the conversation, telling her about another occurrence of Date’s infamous pants-wetting non-habit and making her laugh.
He loves the beach. He’s been to one before, he tells her, when he was a kid. He’s never gone back, but he hasn’t forgotten it. Someday, if maybe luck came his way, he’d want to have his own house on a beachfront.
He doesn’t say if the house will include a family of his own. She doesn’t ask.
What she does ask is, “Who were you with?”
“Mm?” His hand is close to hers, their fingertips almost grazing, and she likes how he doesn’t take advantage of the fact to hold her hand outright.
“At the beach.” She raises her eyes to meet his gaze. “Who were you with when you went?”
“My dad.” He doesn’t elaborate.
It’s late when he accompanies her home. They both have work early the next day. Her apartment is small and neat, nothing like Saeko’s airy place. Asuka always liked how bare it was and never felt the need to clutter it with unnecessary items, but feels unsure when Kudo steps inside.
“Ah, it’s very Asuka-chan,” he remarks, walking up to the small sofa that takes up most of her living room space.
The comment makes her smile, which turns into a shy one when he turns around and smiles back at her. “Have a seat.”
Can I kiss you?
No.
She laughs when their noses bump awkwardly, amused at the notion that he just might not be as experienced as he makes himself out to be. He pulls back, embarrassed; it is she who leans forward to press her lips to his.
They taste of sea breeze, candies, and tomorrow.
There will be no tomorrow for you.
The ringing of his phone wakes both of them up. Kudo is out of bed in a flash to answer it. She sits up, hair tousled and but instantly awake like he is. “Who is it?”
“It’s nothing,” he says, quickly retrieving his clothes from the floor and putting them on, having trouble slipping on his polo shirt before he realizes it’s her blouse. “Go back to sleep.”
He knows her well by now, and he knows better than to expect that would be enough to convince her to stay put, but he’s in too much of a hurry to say anything else. She knows better than to get involved in something she doesn’t want to have anything to do with, but it’s the one time too many of him sneaking out in the night, weeks and months spent doing the one thing she doesn’t want him doing. She always feels that familiar sickening emotion every time he returns to her bed, barely managing to peel the gloves off of his hands before his eyes crash shut, tired from catering to the one thing she wants to destroy.
Asuka follows him down the street and sees him get into a black van with Date behind the wheel. Heart pounding, she hurriedly hails a taxi and tells the driver to follow the vehicle in front of them.
She arrives just in time to hear a shot ringing out. A man falls to the ground as she rushes in. She’s sure that the shock on Kudo’s face when he catches sight of her is mirrored on hers.
( ”The world doesn’t revolve around JOKER, you said. Does it? Answer me that now, Kudo. If you think it does for me, isn’t it the same for you?”
He doesn’t answer. She punches him in the face because slapping doesn’t do enough justice and because she could.
“You asked me before if I care more about JOKER than you,” she says, hating the way her voice shakes, hating the way she feels.
“Now that I care about you, what are you going to do?” )
Kudo Shohei dies on a rainy day. Rain drops blur the windows, and Asuka thinks it should suffice, if only because her own tears refuse to fall. Beside her, Kudo is equally-if not more-stone-faced, though she knows only too well that he’s struggling to hold back his emotions with the way his eyes are rimmed red and his jaw is clenched.
He doesn’t ask why she’s there. It’s been weeks since they’ve last seen each other. She keeps her distance because she can’t bring herself to impose.
“That’s why you went out with me, isn’t it,” he later says to her, more of a statement than an actual question. His tone is disdainful, the way it gets when he’s absolutely sure of something he can’t possibly be wrong about. “Because you found out about my dad.”
She understands exactly what he’s implying, but the way he puts it almost makes her want to laugh if not for the fact that it nearly makes her cry.
“The world isn’t painted in black and white, Kenji-kun.”
The world would be better off without him.
It’s Date who tells her that Kudo has handed in his resignation. The department chief who had replaced Chief Izutsu accepted it without question, but the rest of them were baffled-even Kurusu, despite his scoffing that with Kudo gone the department would finally get the peace and quiet it should have.
Asuka tries not to feel hurt that Kudo hadn’t told her anything. She fails, shoulders drooping over her bowl of ramen, sipping the soup half-heartedly while Date slurps up his noodles noisily beside her.
“He’s always barged into things without thinking about it thoroughly first,” Date says, finally putting his chopsticks down. “But his heart has always been in the right place. This time, though, I’m not too sure if it is.”
To her it sounds as if he’s telling her to convince Kudo otherwise, and it makes her want to ask, Why did you let Saeko-chan go, then? But she doesn’t. She chews slowly, more to give her time to not say anything than actually thinking of what to say.
When she looks up, Date’s looking at her with that smile of his that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, that always makes her feel that everything would work out somehow. “I’ll pay,” he says, tone slightly teasing, knowing, “But it’s not a date.”
So will you see me again?
He asks her to help him pack up his things, and she agrees, if only to see him for the last time. She brings over the things he’d left at her place, and she’s almost surprised how bare it looks again without them. They work silently, side by side. Asuka feels a weird sense of déjà vu, both of them doing the same thing when they cleared Saeko’s apartment almost a year ago. She wonders if this is how it will always be. Saeko and Date. Her and Kudo. Her brother dying and leaving her alone. His father dying and leaving him alone. Broken relationships, ties severed, death and life, and life goes on. Nothing to live for but a solitary existence.
His voice startles her when he speaks, shattering the almost deafening silence between them. “I hated my dad,” he says plainly, taking down a couple of hangers in his closet that, as expected, contain a multi-colored collection of Hawaiian-printed shirts. “I’ve always lived my life thinking that. You could say it’s what motivated me to keep going. But he’s dead now.”
He seems to be struggling a little to find the right words, and Asuka realizes this is his explanation to her unasked question of why he is leaving. “You could say there’s nothing left for me here now.”
She can’t trust herself to speak. She doesn’t say much of anything until the last box is packed. Goodbyes have never been her strong suit; the people she should have said goodbye to have long been dead before she could.
Just before Asuka leaves, she takes out a piece of paper from her purse and unfolds it, handing it to him with a rueful smile. “Be careful. Be safe.”
Then she’s gone.
Kudo stares at the scribble that he could almost swear had been drawn by his own hand, a lump forming in his throat. Then he turns it over, recognizing her neat handwriting on one corner.
Take me with you to the sea next time.
Her name is an echo inside his empty apartment. The paper flutters to the floor as he runs to catch up to her, sunlight illuminating the crayon blue of the sea.
Fin.
Title: A House By The Sea
Drama/Pairing: Joker: Yurusarezaru Sousakan; Kudo Kenji /Miyagi Asuka (Nishikido Ryo and Anne)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them. -Kahlil Gibran
A/N: To impynymph, when I saw the ‘pairings/etc/females you’d like to receive’ part of your request, I instantly latched onto the idea of writing a JOKER fic. I really, truly hope you’ll enjoy this. Happy White Day! <3 (Love-and other drugs XD-to my beta readers tinyangl and frostbittenlove for the input, and sinonymity for the professor-like edits and criticism. <3)
The police headquarters where Asuka asked to be transferred operates like a well-oiled machine: calm, quick, quiet and efficient. It's exactly what Asuka wants, except there are some days when she thinks it just might be too calm and quiet, and it makes her miss the way Date yelps when he spills hot coffee on his shirt, and the way Kudo barges into the office and tries to chat her up before being banished back to his storeroom-turned-forensics room. There are days when, utterly frustrated with a case she’d be currently handling, she’d find herself pushing her chair back with every intent to escape to Kudo’s room-submitting herself to his not-too-subtle advances was a welcome distraction, at times-only to realize a beat later that she wasn’t in the same division, the same office anymore. He wasn’t going to be there.
Asuka reaches for her mug of freshly-made coffee and takes a gulp, burning her tongue but managing not to spill it on her shirt.
Her phone beeps. Asuka-chan, the mail begins, followed by a barrage of smiling emojis. I’m bored. Entertain me.
Usually when Kudo mails-which was actually usual-Asuka’s first instinct is to always ignore it. But today she decides that maybe she’s feeling a little sentimental.
I’m busy, she replies. Kudo-san, is there any current news about JOKER?
You replied! comes his quick answer. Ah, but does Asuka-chan care more about JOKER than me?
Asuka finds that she can’t quite bring herself to answer the question honestly. Quietly she tucks her phone back in her pocket, after saving his mails in the phone folder designated especially for them.
You’re not very fun even though it’s been a month since we met.
She wonders sometimes if Kudo somehow gets a perverse kick out of it, still relentlessly pursuing her after all this time. She wonders if it could actually mean he likes her for real, or if he really is just that desperate for a kiss. She wonders if, should she oblige him with a kiss, he’d expect something more. That particular thought makes her flush and take another throat-scalding gulp of her coffee.
It never occurs to her to think that maybe he is lonely. Just like she is.
We’re in a world where we can’t put away the villains.
A picture is attached to his next mail: chopsticks digging into a bowl of ramen so delicious-looking it makes her stomach rumble. Asuka realizes just then that she hasn’t had lunch yet for the day. Having ramen with Date now, it says, accompanied, as usual, with smileys. We should eat out too, some other time.
I’ll go join you right now, she finds herself replying, and picks her coat up before striding out of the building with a faint smile on her face.
When she gets to the ramen shop-she doesn’t even have to ask where-she finds only Kudo at one of the tables. It isn’t hard to spot his usual Hawaiian-themed shirt among the throng of customers.
“Date-san had to go,” Kudo explains the moment she slides into the seat in front of him, but not before yelling “Asuka-chan!” and waving like a maniac when he sees her. “I can stay, though, so I waited for you.”
“Is he busy?” she inquires, after asking for pork ramen from the woman who had come over to take her order. “What case are you currently working on?”
“It’s not current. He’s asked to re-investigate the case of the missing eight-year-old from six years ago.”
“That one… but isn’t the statute of limitations almost nearing its expiry?”
“That’s why he’s looking into it.” Kudo’s voice is almost amused, but Asuka can’t help but note that there is a touch of pride to it. “The last person she was seen with is still around. Evidence points largely to the man, but-”
“He can’t be prosecuted,” she finishes for him, feeling that familiar sickening emotion that always rose up from the pit of her stomach at the idea of yet another unsolved case on their tally. “And then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“JOKER will step in, right?”
Kudo doesn’t answer. She presses on, “JOKER will take matters into his own hands again, won’t he? That’s what will happen.”
Her ramen arrives just then, but suddenly Asuka isn’t very hungry anymore. “Kudo-san, don’t do it. Don’t help him.” She doesn’t like how he suddenly can’t quite meet her eyes. “Why do you do it?”
“Someone has to,” he finally says after an eternity. “If they can’t be legally brought to justice-”
“But it’s wrong!” she cries. Several patrons look up from their meals, not too pleased with having their lunches disturbed. Shame-faced, Asuka ducks down and takes a quick slurp of her soup, wincing as it burns her tongue and inwardly hating herself for having done it one too many times lately.
“The world isn’t painted in black and white, Asuka-chan.” Kudo’s voice is low, and there is none of the playfulness it usually possesses when he is around her. To her surprise, he rises from his seat.
“You’re going?” She hates how she sounds almost disappointed.
“Maybe next time we can go on a real date.” To her relief, a smile, though rueful, is back on his face. Just before he leaves, he adds, “And… the world doesn’t revolve around JOKER. I hope you remember that.”
I’ll be sure to show you I can create a world where JOKER is not necessary.
“So do you have a boyfriend?”
The man who asks is another government officer in the same department. He sits on her desk with an air of suaveness while simultaneously crumpling her neat pile of papers, something Asuka loathes. She barely spares him a glance, reaching for another file while calmly answering, “You are aware, aren’t you, Harada-san, that such questions can have you penalized under the anti-sexual harassment law in the workplace?”
It’s as effective as shooting pepper spray into his face. Harada makes himself scarce, and Asuka lets out a huff of irritation as she tries to iron out her files.
Name, Kudo Kenji. Place of birth, Kanagawa. Blood Type O.
Family. Mother deceased.
Father: Kudo Shohei. Currently residing at the Mahoroba Nursing Home.
Known physical characteristics.
Keloidal scars spanning left and right shoulder blades. Believed to have been caused by prolonged physical abuse.
“He’s cute,” comes a voice over Asuka’s shoulder, and she doesn’t even jump, only too used to how people read over other people’s shoulders in the police force. A fresh cup of coffee is placed on her desk. The girl somewhat resembles Takigawa Mina-chan from her old police department, but her name, if Asuka remembers it correctly, is Takanori. She murmurs her thanks, and Takanori beams. “So is he your boyfriend?”
“Please,” Asuka groans, reaching for the coffee and making sure to blow on it first before taking a careful sip. “Not you, too.”
“I really admired the way you handled Harada-san earlier, though,” the girl confesses, clutching the tray to her chest. “He’s a creep. He tried to hit on me, too.”
“The next time he does, kick him in the nuts,” Asuka mutters a bit savagely, and just as savagely turns a page. Takanori edges away from her and mutters something about having other jobs to tend to before leaving Asuka alone.
She sighs and reaches for her phone. Kudo hasn’t mailed for days.
Someone tried to hit on me, but I scared him away by saying it was sexual harassment. Which it was, if you think about it. She presses ‘send’ before she can change her mind.
Asuka-chan, you mailed first, comes the reply, with a heart. Does that mean you miss me?
“Idiot,” she mutters, though she’s not entirely sure if she’s referring to him, or herself. Cheeks pink, she shoves her phone away and bends over his file again.
It’s painful. I don’t know what to do with myself.
The people at the Mahoroba Nursing Home strictly follow the protocol of having only known family members visit their residents, but they bend, if grudgingly, when Asuka flashes her badge. She looks around in fascination as she is led inside.
“Kudo-san is surprisingly lucid today,” the nurse informs her, walking down a stone pathway leading to an open garden.
“Lucid?” Asuka echoes, brows furrowing slightly as her heels click against the ground.
“He suffers from dementia. It’s a degenerative illness that commonly occurs in old people. Not only does loss of memory occur, but also loss of patterns, feelings, and abilities. Well, Kudo-san isn’t that old, but his records do say he was an alcoholic… that’s also a huge contributing factor.” She glances at Asuka with a curious look on her face. “You’re a police officer? Do you know his son, then?”
Asuka hardly gets a chance to open her mouth to reply when the woman plows on. “He comes here sometimes, but Kudo-san doesn’t remember him. He keeps asking the young man who he is each time he visits. Ah, here’s Kudo-san!”
They approach a man with a stooped back and a slightly balding head sitting on a wheelchair. Papers with scribbles drawn on them are perched on his lap. His hand is tightly clutched around a blue crayon, and he eyes them with slight suspicion and, Asuka thinks, guilt in his gaze. “Yes?” he says, voice raspy like sandpaper.
“Kudo-san,” the nurse chirps, all sugar and smiles. “You have a visitor today. Her name is Asuka.”
“Asuka,” the older Kudo repeats, squinting up at her.
The nurse leaves them alone. Asuka gives him a nervous smile, but sits down on a nearby bench. “You draw well,” she says politely.
He glances down with a bemused smile that eerily resembles his son’s. “No, I don’t,” he corrects her with a chuckle, and Asuka flushes slightly at the lie she’s told. “Kenji drew it better. He can do a lot of things, that boy. He must be all grown by now. It’s been years. But I think he still hates me.” His face crumples, and for one horrible moment Asuka thinks he will cry. “I never did right by him. He was a good boy.”
She doesn’t know how to respond, but finds that she doesn’t really have to when he speaks again. “A man comes here sometimes. I see Kenji in him, but he doesn’t talk like Kenji. My Kenji always laughed. That man never smiles when he talks to me. It’s almost like he’s angry with me.”
“Kenji,” Asuka begins, saying Kudo’s name for the first time, “is always laughing… he still does. But when he’s angry, it shows.” She smiles gently, leaning forward to place her hand over one of his, squeezing it lightly. “I don’t think he’s angry with you, though. I think he’s forgiven you.” He said he wouldn’t see you again, but he has. Oh, Kudo.
The older man gapes up at her. Then a curious look, like a veil passing over his eyes, comes over his face, and he slouches slightly in his seat. “Where am I?”
Asuka reels back, blinking, slightly terrified that she might have rattled him out of lucidity. A nurse hovering nearby comes to her rescue. “There’s nothing to worry about, this is normal. It comes and goes. His condition has a rather rapid progression.” The woman looks at her wrist watch pointedly. “Are you almost done? The head nurse gave you permission to be here only for a limited time.”
“Ah, yes.” Asuka stands up, still not entirely sure what brought her here in the first place. “Kudo-san, it was nice meeting you-”
“I want to go home,” he mumbles, head drooping slightly. “Kenji…”
There’s a lump stuck in Asuka’s throat. “Don’t worry, Kudo-san. I’ll tell him to take you home.”
His hand reaches out, taking hold of her wrist with a surprisingly strong grip. “Kenji… give this to Kenji.” He gestures to the piece of paper on top of the pile on his lap, and Asuka takes it after he lets go of her.
It’s a child-like drawing of the sea with a father and son holding hands on the shore.
When I’m feeling down, it helps to have someone be there with me.
Their actual date happens in none other than the ramen shop, both of them coming from their respective shifts at work. Kudo is hungry and it’s near, and Asuka isn’t fussy. She does take care, however, to wear a skirt, release her hair from its usual ponytail and add a touch of lip gloss, too self-conscious to add anything else. Still, the look he gives her when she walks in convinces her that it’s enough.
“Next time I’ll take you somewhere nicer,” he says, grinning, as their ramen arrives.
“Who says there’ll be a next time?” she shoots back reflexively. Much later, though, she says, “It’ll always be a date as long as you pay.”
His father’s drawing is folded and tucked neatly in her purse. She avoids talking about him. Kudo leads the conversation, telling her about another occurrence of Date’s infamous pants-wetting non-habit and making her laugh.
He loves the beach. He’s been to one before, he tells her, when he was a kid. He’s never gone back, but he hasn’t forgotten it. Someday, if maybe luck came his way, he’d want to have his own house on a beachfront.
He doesn’t say if the house will include a family of his own. She doesn’t ask.
What she does ask is, “Who were you with?”
“Mm?” His hand is close to hers, their fingertips almost grazing, and she likes how he doesn’t take advantage of the fact to hold her hand outright.
“At the beach.” She raises her eyes to meet his gaze. “Who were you with when you went?”
“My dad.” He doesn’t elaborate.
It’s late when he accompanies her home. They both have work early the next day. Her apartment is small and neat, nothing like Saeko’s airy place. Asuka always liked how bare it was and never felt the need to clutter it with unnecessary items, but feels unsure when Kudo steps inside.
“Ah, it’s very Asuka-chan,” he remarks, walking up to the small sofa that takes up most of her living room space.
The comment makes her smile, which turns into a shy one when he turns around and smiles back at her. “Have a seat.”
Can I kiss you?
No.
She laughs when their noses bump awkwardly, amused at the notion that he just might not be as experienced as he makes himself out to be. He pulls back, embarrassed; it is she who leans forward to press her lips to his.
They taste of sea breeze, candies, and tomorrow.
There will be no tomorrow for you.
The ringing of his phone wakes both of them up. Kudo is out of bed in a flash to answer it. She sits up, hair tousled and but instantly awake like he is. “Who is it?”
“It’s nothing,” he says, quickly retrieving his clothes from the floor and putting them on, having trouble slipping on his polo shirt before he realizes it’s her blouse. “Go back to sleep.”
He knows her well by now, and he knows better than to expect that would be enough to convince her to stay put, but he’s in too much of a hurry to say anything else. She knows better than to get involved in something she doesn’t want to have anything to do with, but it’s the one time too many of him sneaking out in the night, weeks and months spent doing the one thing she doesn’t want him doing. She always feels that familiar sickening emotion every time he returns to her bed, barely managing to peel the gloves off of his hands before his eyes crash shut, tired from catering to the one thing she wants to destroy.
Asuka follows him down the street and sees him get into a black van with Date behind the wheel. Heart pounding, she hurriedly hails a taxi and tells the driver to follow the vehicle in front of them.
She arrives just in time to hear a shot ringing out. A man falls to the ground as she rushes in. She’s sure that the shock on Kudo’s face when he catches sight of her is mirrored on hers.
( ”The world doesn’t revolve around JOKER, you said. Does it? Answer me that now, Kudo. If you think it does for me, isn’t it the same for you?”
He doesn’t answer. She punches him in the face because slapping doesn’t do enough justice and because she could.
“You asked me before if I care more about JOKER than you,” she says, hating the way her voice shakes, hating the way she feels.
“Now that I care about you, what are you going to do?” )
Kudo Shohei dies on a rainy day. Rain drops blur the windows, and Asuka thinks it should suffice, if only because her own tears refuse to fall. Beside her, Kudo is equally-if not more-stone-faced, though she knows only too well that he’s struggling to hold back his emotions with the way his eyes are rimmed red and his jaw is clenched.
He doesn’t ask why she’s there. It’s been weeks since they’ve last seen each other. She keeps her distance because she can’t bring herself to impose.
“That’s why you went out with me, isn’t it,” he later says to her, more of a statement than an actual question. His tone is disdainful, the way it gets when he’s absolutely sure of something he can’t possibly be wrong about. “Because you found out about my dad.”
She understands exactly what he’s implying, but the way he puts it almost makes her want to laugh if not for the fact that it nearly makes her cry.
“The world isn’t painted in black and white, Kenji-kun.”
The world would be better off without him.
It’s Date who tells her that Kudo has handed in his resignation. The department chief who had replaced Chief Izutsu accepted it without question, but the rest of them were baffled-even Kurusu, despite his scoffing that with Kudo gone the department would finally get the peace and quiet it should have.
Asuka tries not to feel hurt that Kudo hadn’t told her anything. She fails, shoulders drooping over her bowl of ramen, sipping the soup half-heartedly while Date slurps up his noodles noisily beside her.
“He’s always barged into things without thinking about it thoroughly first,” Date says, finally putting his chopsticks down. “But his heart has always been in the right place. This time, though, I’m not too sure if it is.”
To her it sounds as if he’s telling her to convince Kudo otherwise, and it makes her want to ask, Why did you let Saeko-chan go, then? But she doesn’t. She chews slowly, more to give her time to not say anything than actually thinking of what to say.
When she looks up, Date’s looking at her with that smile of his that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, that always makes her feel that everything would work out somehow. “I’ll pay,” he says, tone slightly teasing, knowing, “But it’s not a date.”
So will you see me again?
He asks her to help him pack up his things, and she agrees, if only to see him for the last time. She brings over the things he’d left at her place, and she’s almost surprised how bare it looks again without them. They work silently, side by side. Asuka feels a weird sense of déjà vu, both of them doing the same thing when they cleared Saeko’s apartment almost a year ago. She wonders if this is how it will always be. Saeko and Date. Her and Kudo. Her brother dying and leaving her alone. His father dying and leaving him alone. Broken relationships, ties severed, death and life, and life goes on. Nothing to live for but a solitary existence.
His voice startles her when he speaks, shattering the almost deafening silence between them. “I hated my dad,” he says plainly, taking down a couple of hangers in his closet that, as expected, contain a multi-colored collection of Hawaiian-printed shirts. “I’ve always lived my life thinking that. You could say it’s what motivated me to keep going. But he’s dead now.”
He seems to be struggling a little to find the right words, and Asuka realizes this is his explanation to her unasked question of why he is leaving. “You could say there’s nothing left for me here now.”
She can’t trust herself to speak. She doesn’t say much of anything until the last box is packed. Goodbyes have never been her strong suit; the people she should have said goodbye to have long been dead before she could.
Just before Asuka leaves, she takes out a piece of paper from her purse and unfolds it, handing it to him with a rueful smile. “Be careful. Be safe.”
Then she’s gone.
Kudo stares at the scribble that he could almost swear had been drawn by his own hand, a lump forming in his throat. Then he turns it over, recognizing her neat handwriting on one corner.
Take me with you to the sea next time.
Her name is an echo inside his empty apartment. The paper flutters to the floor as he runs to catch up to her, sunlight illuminating the crayon blue of the sea.
Fin.