[KinKi AU] Mobster verse #4
A longer episode this time, and getting a bit more serious than expected. For all I know I might be undoing my own progression of this series. 0_0
Disclaimer: This writing is fictional and has no commercial purpose. Characters are real persons belonging to themselves.
Pairing: None per se, some exploration of KinKi relationship
Genre: Underworld AU, episodic series
Rating: PG for the criminal setting because I'm paranoid
Summary: Set in the "Hey! Minna Genki Kai" PV universe, after the events in the PV. A reminder of boundaries.
Continued from: First | Second | Third
---
The knock on the thin wall startled Kouichi, and he paused his game with trained speed while inwardly cursing himself for the slackening guard.
Murasaki was already beside the monitor. He knocked a knuckle on it. "Final Fantasy VII? Isn't this like, ancient?"
"It's classic," Kouichi rebuked, as they began their transaction.
A gleam reflected off the screen where Murasaki's left hand rested, and Kouichi noticed that the man still had his --Kouichi's-- proposal ring on his little finger. It was all a little disturbing, even if the thing was actually bought with the man's money.
"Didn't you say that ring was ugly?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral while counting the cash.
"Hm? This?" Murasaki drew the offending hand closer, turned the palm this way and that. "Not the best choice, surely."
"Then why are you still wearing it?"
Murasaki waved in that annoying way he had. "It doesn't matter. Everything look classy on me."
Kouichi rolled his eyes while tucking the envelope into his jacket. "Doesn't it bother you to be wearing a ring intended for someone else?"
"Waste not, Kouichi-kun." Murasaki took off his suit and placed it on the back of the other chair, then took his time settling down and getting comfortable on the seat. "Unless you want it back?"
"Hell no," Kouichi replied instantly.
"I can get you a better one, if you want to propose to your new girlfriend. Consider it your bonus."
"Duh. I don't need you to get me any ring."
"Because you can buy it yourself, or because you haven't gotten a new girlfriend?"
Kouichi scowled, and didn't answer.
Murasaki only chuckled, and pulled out a packet of M&M's. "Well, let me know if and when you decide to employ my expertise to pick up jewelry. I'd expect to be invited to the wedding, too, of course. Candy?"
Kouichi averted the remains of his glare to the proferred colourful buttons. "No thanks. Do you have any other business to discuss? If not, I'll be leaving."
Murasaki made no move to get up, merely watching the game screen disappear with the command from Kouichi's fingers. "Aren't you going to finish the game?"
"Nah, I'm going home."
"You should finish the game, Kouichi."
Kouichi paused just before he hit the confirmation button for the system to shut down, and turned to meet Murasaki's gaze.
His given name had been uttered in a tone strange and low -- almost the same chill from their very first exchange, but even more... personalized. Just as Kouichi knew the hundred different angles for twisting a wire inside a lock, Murasaki knew the hundred different vocal shades for impressing his intention upon an opponent, from a mild suggestion to an informative statement that you're dead meat.
This one said If you know what's good for you you'll do as I say, because I know -- I know you and I know where it would hurt.
"I've just closed it," Kouichi said slowly.
"Start a new one, then." Murasaki's hand drifted silently out of his pocket. Kouichi saw a glimpse of the familiar revolver, and went stiff.
What was this about? Did he find out about Kouichi's hacking commissions? Was any of them used against his organization without Kouichi's knowledge?
Kouichi was so focused on that weapon hand that he reacted too late to a sudden movement by the cubicle door. Before he could turn to see, Murasaki's suit flew towards his face, blocking his sight. He heard the chair topple over, the click of the revolver hammer cocking, then silence.
Kouichi stood up and wrenched the suit off his face in a single movement. The sight that greeted him was Murasaki's gun barrel pressing against the back of a man's head, face pushed onto the opposite wall.
The man was lean, dressed in casual shirt and jeans, and, formerly, a cap that had fallen to the floor. An average, normal-looking person, in fact. All the more dangerous; he wouldn't have suspected.
Murasaki pried the intruder's gun from his fingers, then threw it to Kouichi, who caught it by reflex. "Don't speak. Don't let him see your face. Just pass me that suit."
Silently, Kouichi lobbed it to him. Murasaki draped the suit over the man's head and tightened it.
"I'll suffocate!" came the muffled protest through the thick cloth.
"And why wouldn't I want that?" Murasaki replied. He dragged the man out.
Kouichi stood unmoving where he was, and waited.
Murasaki returned minutes later, sans prisoner. Kouichi assumed his men outside were taking care of that issue.
He headed straight to Kouichi and retrieved the confiscated gun from Kouichi's hand. His own revolver was nowhere to be seen. "Find a different cyber-cafe, mail me the location," he instructed. "And dress differently each time you leave home."
"Was he after me?" Kouichi asked, keeping his voice low. He could still hear the noises drifting in from beyond the walls: the unfriendly voices, the dull thuds of heavy objects on flesh.
"He tailed me here to find out whom I've been dealing with." Murasaki picked up the bag Kouichi transacted with him earlier. He didn't flinch at all when the gunshot sounded. "There could be others. Stay alert."
Kouichi took a moment before he too started to gather his belongings. He'd managed to do his job stealthily for so long, he'd forgotten that he was flitting at the edge of death every minute of his life. It had been easy to forget, with Murasaki's antics around him, with how casual their interaction had grown to be, that even the mob boss himself would briskly get rid of him if it meant protecting his own interests, their existing deal notwithstanding.
"You leave first," he told Murasaki. "It's best that we're not seen together."
Murasaki's lips twisted up. "You learn fast." He glanced down at the ring on his finger, perhaps instinctively, and suddenly Kouichi understood why he'd been wearing it.
The ring was a memento of how they came to be acquainted, a reminder of the true nature of their faithless relationship. You left your woman. You trust nothing...
It would seem, then, that even Murasaki had found himself forgetting what danger they truly were to each other.
Strangely enough, Kouichi felt suddenly safer, if only because he'd glimpsed that much more of Murasaki's mind.
"Take care, Kouichi-kun," Murasaki said, waving as he left, his back to Kouichi. He sure could afford to do that, Kouichi noticed, having carefully ensured that he alone held all the firearms in the room.
"You too," Kouichi replied evenly, fingering the sharp edge of a lockpick in his pants pocket.
If Murasaki noticed that subtle change in Kouichi's tone, he didn't say anything.
---
Disclaimer: This writing is fictional and has no commercial purpose. Characters are real persons belonging to themselves.
Pairing: None per se, some exploration of KinKi relationship
Genre: Underworld AU, episodic series
Rating: PG for the criminal setting because I'm paranoid
Summary: Set in the "Hey! Minna Genki Kai" PV universe, after the events in the PV. A reminder of boundaries.
Continued from: First | Second | Third
---
The knock on the thin wall startled Kouichi, and he paused his game with trained speed while inwardly cursing himself for the slackening guard.
Murasaki was already beside the monitor. He knocked a knuckle on it. "Final Fantasy VII? Isn't this like, ancient?"
"It's classic," Kouichi rebuked, as they began their transaction.
A gleam reflected off the screen where Murasaki's left hand rested, and Kouichi noticed that the man still had his --Kouichi's-- proposal ring on his little finger. It was all a little disturbing, even if the thing was actually bought with the man's money.
"Didn't you say that ring was ugly?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral while counting the cash.
"Hm? This?" Murasaki drew the offending hand closer, turned the palm this way and that. "Not the best choice, surely."
"Then why are you still wearing it?"
Murasaki waved in that annoying way he had. "It doesn't matter. Everything look classy on me."
Kouichi rolled his eyes while tucking the envelope into his jacket. "Doesn't it bother you to be wearing a ring intended for someone else?"
"Waste not, Kouichi-kun." Murasaki took off his suit and placed it on the back of the other chair, then took his time settling down and getting comfortable on the seat. "Unless you want it back?"
"Hell no," Kouichi replied instantly.
"I can get you a better one, if you want to propose to your new girlfriend. Consider it your bonus."
"Duh. I don't need you to get me any ring."
"Because you can buy it yourself, or because you haven't gotten a new girlfriend?"
Kouichi scowled, and didn't answer.
Murasaki only chuckled, and pulled out a packet of M&M's. "Well, let me know if and when you decide to employ my expertise to pick up jewelry. I'd expect to be invited to the wedding, too, of course. Candy?"
Kouichi averted the remains of his glare to the proferred colourful buttons. "No thanks. Do you have any other business to discuss? If not, I'll be leaving."
Murasaki made no move to get up, merely watching the game screen disappear with the command from Kouichi's fingers. "Aren't you going to finish the game?"
"Nah, I'm going home."
"You should finish the game, Kouichi."
Kouichi paused just before he hit the confirmation button for the system to shut down, and turned to meet Murasaki's gaze.
His given name had been uttered in a tone strange and low -- almost the same chill from their very first exchange, but even more... personalized. Just as Kouichi knew the hundred different angles for twisting a wire inside a lock, Murasaki knew the hundred different vocal shades for impressing his intention upon an opponent, from a mild suggestion to an informative statement that you're dead meat.
This one said If you know what's good for you you'll do as I say, because I know -- I know you and I know where it would hurt.
"I've just closed it," Kouichi said slowly.
"Start a new one, then." Murasaki's hand drifted silently out of his pocket. Kouichi saw a glimpse of the familiar revolver, and went stiff.
What was this about? Did he find out about Kouichi's hacking commissions? Was any of them used against his organization without Kouichi's knowledge?
Kouichi was so focused on that weapon hand that he reacted too late to a sudden movement by the cubicle door. Before he could turn to see, Murasaki's suit flew towards his face, blocking his sight. He heard the chair topple over, the click of the revolver hammer cocking, then silence.
Kouichi stood up and wrenched the suit off his face in a single movement. The sight that greeted him was Murasaki's gun barrel pressing against the back of a man's head, face pushed onto the opposite wall.
The man was lean, dressed in casual shirt and jeans, and, formerly, a cap that had fallen to the floor. An average, normal-looking person, in fact. All the more dangerous; he wouldn't have suspected.
Murasaki pried the intruder's gun from his fingers, then threw it to Kouichi, who caught it by reflex. "Don't speak. Don't let him see your face. Just pass me that suit."
Silently, Kouichi lobbed it to him. Murasaki draped the suit over the man's head and tightened it.
"I'll suffocate!" came the muffled protest through the thick cloth.
"And why wouldn't I want that?" Murasaki replied. He dragged the man out.
Kouichi stood unmoving where he was, and waited.
Murasaki returned minutes later, sans prisoner. Kouichi assumed his men outside were taking care of that issue.
He headed straight to Kouichi and retrieved the confiscated gun from Kouichi's hand. His own revolver was nowhere to be seen. "Find a different cyber-cafe, mail me the location," he instructed. "And dress differently each time you leave home."
"Was he after me?" Kouichi asked, keeping his voice low. He could still hear the noises drifting in from beyond the walls: the unfriendly voices, the dull thuds of heavy objects on flesh.
"He tailed me here to find out whom I've been dealing with." Murasaki picked up the bag Kouichi transacted with him earlier. He didn't flinch at all when the gunshot sounded. "There could be others. Stay alert."
Kouichi took a moment before he too started to gather his belongings. He'd managed to do his job stealthily for so long, he'd forgotten that he was flitting at the edge of death every minute of his life. It had been easy to forget, with Murasaki's antics around him, with how casual their interaction had grown to be, that even the mob boss himself would briskly get rid of him if it meant protecting his own interests, their existing deal notwithstanding.
"You leave first," he told Murasaki. "It's best that we're not seen together."
Murasaki's lips twisted up. "You learn fast." He glanced down at the ring on his finger, perhaps instinctively, and suddenly Kouichi understood why he'd been wearing it.
The ring was a memento of how they came to be acquainted, a reminder of the true nature of their faithless relationship. You left your woman. You trust nothing...
It would seem, then, that even Murasaki had found himself forgetting what danger they truly were to each other.
Strangely enough, Kouichi felt suddenly safer, if only because he'd glimpsed that much more of Murasaki's mind.
"Take care, Kouichi-kun," Murasaki said, waving as he left, his back to Kouichi. He sure could afford to do that, Kouichi noticed, having carefully ensured that he alone held all the firearms in the room.
"You too," Kouichi replied evenly, fingering the sharp edge of a lockpick in his pants pocket.
If Murasaki noticed that subtle change in Kouichi's tone, he didn't say anything.
---