Fic for tia-junan (7/9)

Apr 22, 2012 21:03

+part six


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A couple weeks later, Kame meets Jin for drinks on a Wednesday night before the holiday weekend. Hands him a navy blue handled paper bag and watches as Jin leans toward the opening with furrowed brow.

He pins Kame with a sharp gaze. "What did you do?" he demands accusingly.

Kame shrugs, half in embarrassment at his own spur-of-the-moment extravagance. "Just open it," is all he says.

Jin reaches inside and somewhat reverently lifts out a foam insulated box and places it in the middle of the table. Sneaking a look at Kame, Jin pulls the lid off and peers inside at the packages of vacuum-packed Grade A free-range Hudson Valley duck foie gras surrounded by frozen gel packs.

"Fuck, Kame," Jin says in awed tones. "You shouldn't have. This is. I mean, this is really generous."

Kame smiles and shifts across the table from Jin. "Just think of it as - well, let's just say, I missed a lot of birthdays. I know you'll enjoy it. Put it to good use."

"Oh, my god." Jin rubs his lips with one hand and stares down at the beautifully pale, nearly kilo-sized whole lobes of duck liver. "They look so fucking gorgeous. Kame, you know I can't eat all this by myself."

"So have a party," Kame says matter-of-factly, leaning back in his chair. "Feed your friends."

Jin throws Kame a strange look. "I will," he says. "You'll come, of course. I'll make something special for you."

Kame shakes his head ruefully. "I can't. I'm heading down to Washington in the morning. Two of my brothers arrive on Friday with their families for the next week. And you know, the Americans have Independence Day on Sunday, so."

Jin's face falls in clear disappointment. "Well, shit," he says. "That sucks. I mean, for me, of course. I'm sure you'll have a great time with your family. If your brothers remember me, you should tell them I said hi."

"You'll live," Kame says lightly, hiding his face in his beer glass. He can feel Jin studying him and it makes him feel itchy. "And of course they remember you. You practically grew up with us. I'll tell them." Kame fixes on Jin's convulsing throat.

"Thank you," Jin says at last, sounding overwhelmed. "This is..." He stares down at the foie gras before looking back up at Kame, eyes bright. "-an amazing gift."

Kame nods, spinning his glass between his fingers. When he looks up, Jin's still watching him with something like affection. Kame manages a smile.

"Happy birthday, Jin," Kame says, raising his glass. "Salud."

--

As if to balance the long, snowy winter, summer that year is a scorcher with soaring temperatures and disgusting humidity all along the East Coast. By August, Kame and Yamapi's workloads creep up as, in anticipation of Meisa's upcoming maternity leave, they try to spread some of her responsibilities out among themselves with Nina and Tegoshi's help - although, if truth be told, it's more like Nina and Tegoshi share out Meisa's role with Kame and keep Yamapi far away from anything having to do with managing money.

"Congrats, man," Yamapi says to Jin one night in September over plates of chili noodles, vegetable fried rice and a platter of barbecued ribs in K-town. They've already done a number on the beer tower whose level has dropped precipitously.

"Thanks," Jin says with his mouth full, beaming.

"So, what does this make now, five?" Kame asks, referring to the very positive press Jin's been receiving for Lupo, and also his dramatically rising profile as a private chef.

Jin shakes his head before taking a long draught from his glass of Killian's Red. "Are you kidding? Try seven in the last three months alone. And that doesn't include the bloggers. I can't believe the Times' Diner's blog mentioned Lupo, or what the Village Voice wrote. Those were both huge - we got hundreds of new signups to the mailing list."

"So Lupo must be doing really well, then," Kame says.

Jin's face takes on a regretful cast and he shakes his head. "I'm booked solid through Christmas with private dinners and events. I had to cut back on Lupo dinners because I'm already overscheduled. We're down to twice a month when back in June, you know-" He looks at Kame, "-when you came, we were doing eight Lupo dinners in a month."

"But that's good, isn't it?" Kame says, "that you're busy?"

Jin doesn't look so certain, though. "It's good money," he hedges. "-and I get to cook what I want, so that's something. Clients usually have a few requests but lots of them have some idea of what I do, so they want me to do my thing."

"But that sounds perfect," Yamapi says, nose-deep in his almost-empty noodle bowl.

"It's just...I love doing Lupo," Jin says simply. "This other stuff, I do enjoy it, and it pays the bills, and don't get me wrong, I'm definitely glad there's enough demand that I get to pick and choose what jobs I take, but I don't love it the same way. It's not the same."

Kame makes noises of understanding, silently reflecting that another drawback of Jin's growing popularity is that these opportunities to meet are getting rarer. It's just luck that the three of them could hook up at all; Kame had arranged to meet Yamapi for a midnight dinner but while Kame was on his way, Jin sent him a short message, as he's been doing of late, just to say hi, so Kame asked Jin to join them - not expecting Jin could.

And here they are, all of them devouring food as though they've hardly eaten all day. Kame certainly hasn't.

"This is fucking weird," Yamapi says suddenly, looking from Kame to Jin and back to Kame. "Don't you think this is weird?"

"What," Kame says absently, tossing down a bone and licking his fingers. When he looks up, Jin is watching him with a strange expression.

"You have some-" Jin says, pointing at his own face.

"Thanks," Kame mutters, finding a paper napkin and cleaning off whatever he's got smeared on his cheek, licking at the corner of his mouth.

"This," Yamapi says pointedly. "This is weird."

That gets Kame's attention, and he looks across at Yamapi, with an uncomfortable inkling as to what Yamapi means.

"A year ago," Yamapi says, "if someone told me I'd be having beers with you two idiots, I would've - well, I never would've believed it." He stops, eyeing the two of them in turn before pushing a slice of brown hair out of his eyes. "But here we are."

Kame shifts, unable to stop himself from shooting a guilty look at Jin. Jin's chewing his lower lip.

"And you guys," Yamapi continues, "well, you aren't trying to kill each other."

"So...win?" Kame says.

"Definitely win," Jin says in a decisive tone.

Kame clears his throat. "For what it's worth," he begins, deciding he might as well just say it and get it out of the way. He throws his crumpled napkin on the table. "I'm sorry. I know I - I put you in the middle of - of-" He pauses and awkwardly gestures between himself and Jin. "-of this. And that was unfair." He shoots a quick glance at Jin where he's sitting elbow to elbow with Yamapi.

"Me, too?" Jin says, quirking a grin at Kame before turning to Yamapi.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Yamapi says dryly, rolling his eyes. "Everyone's sorry. Awesome. Let's not all have a moment, okay? I just had to say something because you guys are creeping me out. It's almost as if you're friends."

He doesn't say again, but the word hangs in the air, unspoken.

Jin's expression is bland as he tilts his head to one side. "We are friends," he says in an even tone. "Right, Kame?"

"Sure," Kame says, feeling slightly bewildered, as if there's a conversation going on between Yamapi and Jin that he isn't privy to.

"See?" Jin says. "Okay, then. So let's move on. I have a proposal."

"No," Yamapi says.

"You don't even know what-"

"No."

"Just listen," Jin says.

"If this is one of your hare-brained ideas-"

"I do not have hare-brained ideas!"

"Now, now, kids," Kame interjects, "play nice."

Yamapi shoots a mock-glare in Kame's direction while Jin says gravely, "Thank you, Kame." He clears his throat.

Yamapi drums his fingers and purses his lips. "Some time this year."

"So I have a line on organic free-range turkeys from upstate. What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving this year? I was thinking about hosting an open house for anyone who needs a place to hang."

Kame stares at Jin for a few seconds. "Uh..."

"That - that actually sounds like a good idea," Yamapi says, not bothering to hide his surprise.

"I know, right?" Jin replies with a grin before looking across the table at Kame. "What do you think?"

"You certainly have the space for it," Kame says.

"Now see, that's what I'm saying," Jin says enthusiastically. "And I have a few days off around the holiday right now that I'm trying to keep free." Jin goes on, describing how he wants to do the turkeys at least three different ways and mess around with his own spin on Turducken. Yamapi shakes his head in mock-alarm as he listens to Jin describe some kind of sous vide chorizo-stuffed turkey-duck-chicken thing fused together with meat glue before it's deep fried.

Kame smiles into his beer, torn between amusement and fear. Watching Jin, he tries to convince himself that the sudden warmth suffusing his chest is just too much drink and nothing to do with the company.

--

In late September, Meisa and René welcome their sleepy-eyed morsel of a daughter into the world. Kyoko Kuroki-Lavell is born with her father's brown skin and fine dark hair covering her tiny head. She's a grave, serious-eyed baby, with a strong set of lungs and a fierce grip. Kame, entranced by her powerful concentration and her little kicking limbs, falls in love with her immediately. Holding her that first time, he's struck with the pang of regret and longing he sometimes feels around other people's children. And yet, when he looks down into Kyoko's Meisa-like eyes, Kame is glad - glad that at least he gets this, to be a part of this child's life in whatever way he can.

Unsurprisingly, Kyoko's arrival is an adjustment for her parents, so Kame and Haruka, and some of the other company cooks conspire to make sure Meisa's freezer and refrigerator are stocked with meals for the exhausted parents. Sometimes Kame wishes someone would do the same for him. The autumn blurs by in a haze of too much work and barely any time at home.

Days and weeks sometimes go by without Kame meeting Jin. And yet, despite their crazy schedules, Jin makes time to message Kame regularly. Sometimes he video calls, especially in the middle of the night just before Kame crashes to bed. Kame won't admit it, not even to himself, but he looks forward to those brief conversations, to the emailed links and videos, to Jin's advice or his questions. He chooses not to examine it closely, but he's happy to have Jin around. It's nothing like it used to be, but that's okay. It's good. It's enough.

--

In October, Sanjay drops an unwelcome bomb on Kame during one of his visits to Washington.

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Sanjay asks from his desk in his tiny office at Sesamo. He's hunting around for something while trying to pack up his bag to leave. It's half-past midnight.

Kame looks up from where he's standing in the doorway, swiping his way through a spreadsheet on his pad. "Uh-" His mind goes completely blank for a second before he can come up with the words. "Jin Akanishi-" Sanjay nods so Kame continues: "he's hosting an open house. I think most of us are going to try to drop by."

"Oh, right," Sanjay says, looking slightly crestfallen. "Yeah, he emailed me an invite."

"You coming?" Kame asks.

Sanjay shakes his head. "My mom would be so disappointed if I don't show up. I see them little enough as it is."

"Right, of course," Kame murmurs. Sanjay's parents moved from Roanoke to Reston to be closer to their three children who all ended up in the Washington/Northern Virginia area.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to join us again," Sanjay says sounding only a little awkward. "Mom asked me to make sure you knew you were invited."

Kame looks up and stares at Sanjay, his mouth open. "Oh," he says, and then: "Sanjay, your mom is such a sweetheart. I'm sorry I can't make it."

Sanjay chuckles, still sounding a bit off. He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd be able to come, but I promised her I'd ask anyway."

"Make sure you tell her I said 'thank you' for thinking of me. You know what? Never mind. I'll give her a call myself."

"Yeah, Mom loves you all right. She says you keep me out of trouble," Sanjay laughs, but his mirth dies as he shoulders his backpack and heads toward Kame. "Things are pretty crazy right now, huh?"

"What?" Kame asks, shutting his app down and looking up. "Oh, yeah. Crazy." He rubs the palm of his hand against his forehead before knuckling at his eyes. "That's a fucking understatement."

"Kame, you gotta get some sleep, man."

"I know, I know." Kame stifles a yawn, following Sanjay out into the narrow hallway, watching him lock his office door. "There's always so much to do."

Sanjay heaves a sigh and comes to a stop. Turns around and looks at Kame with a guilty expression.

"What," Kame asks, beginning to frown. "What is it?" He feels this sense of impending dread drop down around him like a sheet of lead.

"I need to talk to you about something. A work thing."

"All right."

"Not here. Can we just-"

Kame nods, distractedly. It's late, and they're both tired and standing in the hallway isn't exactly the best place to have any kind of serious conversation.

Sanjay waits until they're back at his house, take-out bags tossed carelessly on the table, and a couple beers waiting for them. Kame throws himself down on the couch and leans his head back, the heels of both hands pressed against his eyes. When Sanjay comes back from the bathroom, Kame hears him moving around for a moment until Led Zeppelin's "No Quarter" fills the late-night quiet.

Kame drops his hands from his eyes, and rolls his head toward Sanjay. He huffs before he says, "Dude, that's fucking ominous."

Sanjay chuckles weakly, dropping onto the couch beside him and digging into the take-out bags. "Here," he says, shoving a stack of napkins toward Kame and opening cartons.

Sanjay's quiet as he pokes chopsticks into one of the containers of dumplings, dipping into the accompanying sauce and stuffing the whole dumpling into his mouth. Kame goes to work himself, exhausted but starving. Seven minutes later, "No Quarter" finally fades into "D'Yer Maker," and Sanjay clears his throat.

"So I'm guessing you haven't been reading the roundtable lately. Or spoken with Andrew in the last week."

Kame hesitates for only a second before he shakes his head and lowers his chopsticks. He drops his container to the table, appetite suddenly fled. Both he and Yamapi have been delegating more and more to Haruka and Sanjay in recent months; one of those things has been moderation duty of the nightly roundtable. Kame's only been skimming through the emails in the most superficial way, trusting that anything truly important would be brought to his attention.

"No. What happened." Kame takes up his beer, curling one socked foot up under him and shifting slightly to face Sanjay on the couch.

Sanjay laughs mirthlessly and soft. "It's not exactly what's happened yet," he begins. "It's what I think is coming."

"And what do you think is coming?" Kame closes his eyes briefly against whatever Sanjay's about to tell him, and says a brief prayer of gratitude that for whatever fears he once entertained about Haruka, she's assured him many times over that she has no plans to leave the family, that she's extremely happy and she'd never abandon him without plenty of warning. So at the very least, he knows that whatever it is, it isn't her.

"I'm pretty damn sure you're gonna start seeing an exodus," Sanjay says, sighing before he turns his eyes to Kame, looking tired and sorry. "I don't know what's going on at Sesamo in New York, or with Andrew, but things have gotten pretty hostile between him and most of his cooks, they're sending these crazy emails back and forth and no one seems to care that the rest of us can see all their bitching. I called Andrew last week, just to check in with him and see if he had any ideas to fix that foaming dashi sauce we've all been working on for the scallops? And he - well, he ripped my head off. Called me your pet butt boy-" Sanjay breaks off with a strangled laugh and scrubs his hands into his hair, whether from embarrassment or frustration, Kame isn't sure. "-and then went off on both you and Yamapi for I don't know what. I hung up after a few minutes."

Kame listens with a sinking feeling but he's not nearly as surprised as he should be. All summer Andrew's been growing inexplicably prickly and difficult, and as recently as September, he'd made it clear to Kame that he's less than thrilled with Sanjay, in particular, taking on greater responsibilities within the company. Yamapi, however, has agreed with Kame that Andrew's attitude has been less than desirable - he's been quick to take offense, easily stressed, and too unstable lately to entrust with other things. Kame and Yamapi both agree that they'd rather Andrew just focus on cooking and supervising his own operation rather than help out with some of the administrative and vendor issues they've been letting Sanjay and Haruka take care of for them.

Yamapi has tried to talk to him, figure out what changed to generate whatever's at the root of the situation, but Andrew shuts him down every time.

"What going on with his cooks?" Kame asks.

"Beppe's told me flat-out that he's looking for something else. He's planning to have a chat with you when you get back to New York. Suze, well you know how she is, loyal to the bitter end, but I don't think she's been happy lately either. She told me yesterday two line cooks quit last week."

"What?" Kame's blood pressure skyrockets. "Why don't I know this?" Normally he has spies and whisperers at Sesamo in New York, but he realizes now, with a start, that they've been uncharacteristically silent of late, and he's been too busy to follow up.

Sanjay pinches the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, boss. I hate to be the bearer of bad news."

"So Andrew's keeping personnel issues from us."

"I think he thinks he can take care of it and get them replaced without involving you."

"Six months ago, I wouldn't have doubted that," Kame snaps with a deep frown. "But I still expect to be informed when we lose cooks. And if Beppe is ready to jump ship..."

"I know." Sanjay drops his carton onto the table with an expression of distaste and falls back against the sofa with his beer in hand. He tips the bottle back for a long gulp before resting it in his lap.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Kame asks after a while.

Sanjay shrugs. "Nothing we can't handle." He rolls his head to look at Kame. "But if Beppe takes off and you have problems with Andrew, it could be bad, right?"

Kame hesitates for only a second, before he jerks his head in a quick nod. "Yup."

"What do you think you'll do?"

"You mean, other than look for a new sous chef?" Kame shakes his head. "I don't know. Maybe there's something we can do for Andrew to make him happier? He's still a terrific cook. We'll just have to deal with whatever happens."

The both fall silent, listening to the music, and Kame closes his eyes after a few moments.

"Hey, man, listen," Sanjay says, with a hand on Kame's shoulder. "It's late and you look beat. Why don't you stay?"

Kame blinks, recoiling slightly.

Sanjay cracks a grin. "Not like that! I just meant you can crash here if you want to. The guest room is all set up."

Kame's cheeks flare with embarrassment. He struggles to push himself up through the drag of weariness.

A moment later, he says: "Thanks."

"Of course," Sanjay says as he leans forward to begin gathering the debris of their meal.

"No," Kame says, "I mean, thanks for-for stepping up. It's been huge, you helping out. All three of us really appreciate it."

Sanjay meets his eyes briefly before looking away. "Oh." He tsks impatiently. He stands, empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers, trash in his other hand."Come on, Kame. I'm proud of what we do, you know that. I'm glad to help. Just let me know if you guys need something done, and I'll do my best, okay? I'm sure Haruka would say the same."

Kame nods, feeling exhaustion weigh down on him. Sanjay's quiet as they clean up. It isn't until later, after he's brushed his teeth, that Sanjay comes to the door of the guest room and watches as Kame collapses onto the futon and bends to unlace his shoes.

"So um," Sanjay begins, prompting Kame to look up. Kame waits for him to continue and the moment drags out before Sanjay coughs and says: "So I've been meaning to ask you-" He breaks off and smiles awkwardly. "Uh...is, uh. Is Jin the guy?"

Kame's too tired and confused to understand the question. "What?" His eyebrows draw together in puzzlement.

"A while back you told me there was a guy, remember? Before Kitagawa died? You said it was a friend." Sanjay eyes are steady now and assured, as if he knows he's right.

The connection snaps into place. Kame does remember. He feels his cheeks burn and he's glad for the shadows to hide his blush.

He nods at last, looking at his shoes briefly before he meets Sanjay's eyes.

"Yeah," he says. "Yes."

Sanjay nods once in response. "I had a feeling," he says. He smiles, a fleeting thing, before he turns to go. "He's a good guy."

Kame swallows, uncertain what Sanjay's trying to tell him, if anything, or how he feels.

"Good night," he says and manages a weak smile.

"Night, Kame," Sanjay says, slipping out to the hall.

--

Beppe is gone by November and the formerly unflappable Susanna looks like she has one foot out the door, as well.

"What the fuck is happening?" Yamapi says, running both his hands through his hair. They've just finished a long, disheartening conversation with Suze, and now both he and Kame have converged on Meisa's flat where she's just returned from a walk in Central Park with Kyoko. Kame watches as Meisa lifts her fussing daughter out of a huge boat of a baby carriage and settles down in a corner of the couch by the window.

"Sorry, guys," Meisa says, "I have to feed her."

"That's fine," Yamapi says with a dismissive wave, turning back to Kame. Kame hands him a cup of green tea and then carries a cup for Meisa and one for himself the short distance to where Meisa is now discreetly feeding Kyoko under a drape.

"Thanks," Meisa says to Kame when he leaves her cup within reach. "So, talk to me." She keeps her voice quiet and her eyes telegraph that she expects them to do the same.

"I think we have to fire him," Yamapi says, staring moodily into the mug cupped between his palms.

"Why?" Meisa asks.

Yamapi looks up. "Because his bullshit is dragging that entire restaurant down. Andrew's a complete mental case now. Uncooperative, temperamental, irritable, verbally abusing anyone who happens to be around, and-"

"-and last week he threw a pot of boiling water at one of the dishwashers," Kame finishes heavily. "We're damned lucky the kid was fast enough to get out of the way."

Meisa's mouth falls open. "Andrew?" She blinks rapidly. "Okay, what the hell happened to him?"

Kame shakes his head. "I don't know." He tries to temper it so it doesn't come out nearly as frustrated as he feels, but truthfully, it's driving him mad. "I can't get a straight answer out of anyone over there. Maybe no one really knows. It didn't just start - that much I do know. Suze tells me it's been building for months, little things for a long time, but no one's entirely sure what brought it on."

"His personal life? Bad breakup? Sick relative? There has to be something." She looks down at Kyoko for a second before glancing back up. Kame shakes his head and Yamapi shrugs.

"Can we ask him to see someone, maybe do something for anger management?" Meisa suggests. "Maybe he's having a mental health issue. Look-" she cuts sharp eyes to Yamapi who's already beginning to protest. "We are not just gonna cut this guy loose without trying to help him. We're not. That's not the kind of business we run. It's not who we are."

Yamapi deflates.

"Andrew's been with us for five years. He isn't just some guy," Meisa points out. "We've never had a problem with him before."

"You're right," Kame says. "I'll talk to him. Again."

"Good," Meisa says. "And Kame? He could have seriously hurt someone. He needs to know we won't tolerate that. No second chances. We provide health insurance, so he sees someone and this ends, okay?" She narrows her eyes. "Make it an ultimatum."

--

By the time Thanksgiving roll around, the crisis has deepened. Kame finds himself leaned against the counter in Jin's loft, describing his meeting with Andrew as he watches Jin pipe Virginia country ham mousse into a tray of small, round cheese puff pastries.

"How'd Andrew take it?" Jin asks with a sidelong glance.

Kame makes a face. Andrew, bristling with hostility, had only grudgingly agreed to get help. Kame wasn't sure how their crumbling relationship with him was going to survive this. "Not well," Kame says.

"Hmm," Jin replies, pausing to adjust his grip on the pastry bag. "So what now?"

"I haven't told you the best part yet," Kame says bitterly, lowering his beer to the counter and reaching for one of the puffs. "May I?" Off Jin's nod, Kame pops one of the bite-sized puffs into his mouth and washes it down with another swallow of beer. "The mousse is good, not too salty," he says when he's done. "-and the pastry is perfect. I approve."

Jin looks pleased.

"So the latest is that our chef de cuisine, Susanna, just resigned. She just couldn't take it anymore and went to work for a catering company rather than stay on under Andrew." Kame says, picking up the earlier thread of the conversation.

Jin stops to stare, frozen in mid-squeeze.

"No," he says, shock clearly written on his face. "Yamapi didn't tell me."

"It just happened," Kame says, his expression bleak. "So, yeah. It's a toxic fucking nightmare right now."

"Fuck."

Kame knows Jin understands the implications of Susanna's departure - as chef de cuisine, she was second in charge of Sesamo and without her or Beppe, it means that the last tempering influence in place at Sesamo New York is gone. Furthermore, the newer cooks aren't experienced enough so they're having trouble keeping up with what needs to be done at Sesamo.

Which means Yamapi and Kame have both been pulling shifts at Sesamo a couple times a week, trying to get their cooks up to speed while also trying to find a new chef de cuisine as soon as possible. It's been crazy. Today is the first time Kame has seen Jin in weeks.

"So..." Jin asks, resuming the pastry bag to finish filling the puffs.

"We wait and see," Kame says. "Not much else we can do. Andrew's still cooking, and even if morale is pretty bad over there, we're all limping along for now. We got this guy in to replace Beppe, Rowan gave me his name, and he seems to be working out. He's actually pretty great. Koki Tanaka, do you know him?"

Jin frowns. "Name sounds familiar. Maybe?" He squeezes the last bit of mousse into the final cheese puff and sets the pastry bag down on a plate, flexing his right hand.

Behind them a cheer rises up from the group around the tv watching the second quarter of the eight o'clock Thanksgiving day football game. Both Jin and Kame turn to catch the replay of a touchdown. When Kame looks away from the replay, he registers how close they're standing and Jin's warmth all up and down his right side. There's an alarming curl of heat low in his belly.

"Can I get you a drink?" Kame asks, shifting away toward the refrigerator with a stab of panic.

Jin, leaning back against the counter's edge, points out his choice while Kame holds the refrigerator door open. Jin accepts the bottle from Kame's hand and Kame doesn't think it's an accident when Jin's fingers linger over his. After they toast, Jin gives him a long measured look as he puts the bottle to his lips, enough so Kame feels like squirming, until finally Jin looks away, back toward the football group.

"What I wouldn't give to watch a real football match right now," Jin says. "Not this American football crap. Americans have an entire national holiday simply to eat and watch the wrong sports."

"Dude," Kame says, relaxing a little. "World Cup's next summer. Spain will crush, and we'll all go home happy."

Jin laughs outright. "I like your optimism," he says before going on to discuss Japan's chances with their strong backline or the rising U.S. team which has finally found a reliable pair of strikers. By unspoken agreement, they don't discuss Italy at all.

"You need a hand with those?" Kame asks after a while, lifting his chin to indicate the cheese puffs. Jin glances over his shoulder and nods. "Yeah. Thanks."

They plate some of the mousse-filled puffs on the buffet table loaded with what's left of the Thanksgiving feast Jin and others had prepared. Despite the hour, there are still late-comer guests stalking about with plates in hand. The rest they pile on a few trays to circulate among the football crowd and Kame watches as the pastries begin to disappear. Between the sports fans and the other guests, not to mention the music that's still cranking from the stereo, there's a cacophony of voices and Rolling Stones that could be either festive and fun or just exhausting. Jin leans in to talk to a few people, gets snagged by Josh and Tatsuya, and seems genuinely happy amid the chaos as he winds around with a tray of snacks in each hand. Kame watches him play host and decides to find Yamapi when he spies Meisa with Kyoko and-

"Kyoko-san!" Kame exclaims, stepping closer to lean down to the couch and embrace the older woman for whom Meisa's daughter was named. "You made it! I didn't see you earlier. Where've you been hiding?" She is, as always, beautifully-coiffed and elegant, even while dressed informally for Jin's ultra-casual anything-goes Thanksgiving.

Kyoko Koizumi smiles, her eyes crinkling up in obvious pleasure. "I was saying the same to Meisa about you."

"I'm so glad to see you," Kame says, squeezing onto the couch beside Meisa so he can chat with them. Kyoko-san, a wealthy art dealer, was and remains Kayakuya's primary investor; her faith and generosity were solely responsible for keeping the fledgling company afloat during Zenzero's nearly-disastrous early days. Meisa calls her their fairy godmother.

"And I you," Kyoko-san says. "Meisa tells me things have been...difficult of late."

Kame nods and hums in the affirmative. "We're handling it. We're in a rough patch right now, but I think we'll be okay," Kame says, far more positively than he feels.

"I'm sure you will," Kyoko-san replies. She catches Kame up on what she's been doing lately and Meisa hands baby Kyoko to him to hold while she goes off to find the bathroom.

"Jin still throws a lovely party," Kyoko says once Meisa is gone, leaning toward him confidentially. "How is he?" She reaches out to pluck invisible lint off Kame's t-shirt. Kame glances at her sharply, sees the speculative twinkle in her sharp dark eyes. Kyoko-san knows all about Jin, of course; she first met both of them back in the Kitagawa days.

Kame can't resist looking around for Jin who's on the far side of the loft, leaning down to where Yamapi and Toma are squabbling over a single beanbag chair like a pair of children instead of respectable thirty-somethings.

Kame bites his lip, watching Jin laugh, doubled-over and unrestrained. When he turns back, he realizes his arms have tensed up around baby Kyoko, although fortunately, the infant is only making tiny sleepy-baby sounds against his left ear.

"He's good," Kame says, forcing himself to loosen up and avoiding the question he sees in Kyoko-san's eyes. After a beat he relents and says: "He's really good. Things seem to be working out for him."

"And you, Kame? How are you?"

Kame manages a smile and shifts carefully, so as not to disturb the baby. "I'm good, too," he says lightly, refusing to acknowledge the squirming knot that's been living in his stomach. "Things are crazy right now, but-" He cocks his head. "You know me," he says, "I'm not sure I'd enjoy my life if it was less interesting."

Kyoko-san throws her head back and laughs out loud.

"What'd I miss," Meisa asks, returning and looking down at them curiously.

"Kame," Kyoko says, "is enjoying his interesting life." She glances up at Meisa and makes a show of wiping the corners of her eyes. "Oh, Kame."

"You know I'm only happy when the house is burning down," he says with a crooked smile. Meisa frowns at him.

"Don't say that," she says. "I'd rather not tempt fate, if you don't mind."

Kyoko-san says: "Kame's always tended to flirt with disaster." She's still smiling, but there's something deeper there that he's afraid to touch. "And yet somehow, no matter how often he brushed against it, or-" She inclines her head in allowance, "-or it brushed against him, somehow he's always made the best of things."

"Well, thank goodness for that," Meisa says in a dry tone.

"What can I say? I have a gift for turning things around," he says airily. "Sometimes I might need a little help," he admits, "but usually things work out in the end."

"Well, I like that outcome. Let's make sure we get to the happy ending part of this movie, okay?" Meisa says as she squeezes back onto the tiny free piece of couch beside Kame and holds her arms out for the small bundle propped against Kame's shoulder.

Kame shakes his head minutely. Baby Kyoko is starting to fuss a bit with little clucking sounds, but he's enjoying her wriggling warm weight on his chest, her tiny face snuggled into the crook of his neck.

"You two relax," he says, getting to his feet and nodding at Kyoko-san. "I'll just take her for a walk. Be back soon."

Kame slowly strolls around the crowded flat where there are people clustered everywhere and children of varying ages scampering about underfoot. It's noisy and chaotic and it makes Kame feel inexplicably happy. The guests are a wide cross-section of Jin, Josh, Tatsuya and Yamapi's friends, so there aren't only restaurant people, but writers, editors, artists, scientists, engineers, programmers and financial types in the mix; friends of friends, significant others, children.

When Kame realizes Kyoko's fallen asleep once more, he winds up in the kitchen area again, propping himself in the corner of the counters where he can easily see the football game from a comfortable distance. Carefully he shifts Kyoko until she's nestled in the crook of his left arm and he can watch her squished-up sleeping face. With a light finger Kame strokes the downy curve of her plump, brown cheek. It's nothing short of incredible how she can sleep through the howls and cheers of the American football fans and the shrieking laughter coming from the group near the buffet mingled with loud music to create a nearly-deafening din bouncing off the hardwood floors and high ceilings.

When Kame looks up, Jin's standing nearby watching them with an odd expression. Jin clears his throat and smiles sheepishly, steps a little closer.

"I don't know how she can sleep through all this," Jin says, echoing Kame's thoughts.

Kame shakes his head, looking back down at Kyoko. "Me neither," he says. From behind the fringe of hair falling into his eyes, Kame glances back at Jin. "So what's going on over there?" he asks quietly, tilting his head. Jin follows his gaze to where Yamapi and Toma are sitting very close together. Even as they watch, Toma turns his head to rest his chin on Yamapi's shoulder and appears to say something into Yamapi's ear. After which Yamapi turns unmistakably pink.

Jin's hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. He ducks his head which he shakes briefly. "No idea, man," Jin says. "Didn't see that coming."

"Yamapi's been carrying that torch for years," Kame says. Yamapi was already friends with Toma by the time Kame and Jin met both of them working for the Kitagawa Restaurant Group. Kame's watched Yamapi pine over Toma for a very long time.

Jin crosses his arms over his chest, hugging himself. "Yeah," he says. "I know."

"I wonder what changed," Kame muses.

"Everything?" Jin says. "Maybe nothing. Who knows."

"Hey," Kame says, and Jin's eyes snap to his, his expression tight and closed. "You want to hold her?"

Jin perceptibly relaxes and nods, moving in so he can take Kyoko in his arms. They're both quiet, watching her sleeping face, an oasis of peace amid the noise everywhere else.

Kame isn't insensible to the moment, much as he wishes he could be.

"She's a beautiful kid," Jin says.

Without looking away from Kyoko, Kame nods and hums his agreement. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, prompting Jin to look at him, catching Kame's eyes and holding them for a long, airless moment. At last, Jin nods, as if to himself and glances down again, and then back out at his guests.

"Do you think you'll be ready?" Jin asks before he amends with: "We. Do you think we'll be ready."

Kame's breath catches and he stares at Jin. It takes several long seconds for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he's at once relieved and grateful for the change in subject, even if it's a reminder of one more current source of anxiety.

"Oh, uh..." Kame shifts away and slumps back against the counter. He rubs his forehead. "Fuck me," Kame mutters. "I don't know. Did you like the jerk seasoning I used for the duck hearts?"

"Yes," comes Jin's decisive answer. "And Yamapi and Rowan liked it, too, didn't they say? I think the pineapple carpaccio works as a foundation, but I think it needs something green, maybe a bit of cilantro? Or fresh thyme - thyme might work. We can work on it this weekend. We're still on for Saturday night, right?"

Kame nods. In two weeks, he and Jin will debut at the chef's table, Outlandish, inside Rowan's newly-opened Bell Bar. As if he doesn't have enough on his plate, there's scant time left to put the finishing touches on their tasting menu. Kame knuckles his eyes and heaves a sigh.

He looks up when he hears Meisa's voice: "There you are!" and he sees her approaching around the island.

"If I didn't miss her already, I'd be sorry to take her back," Meisa says softly to Jin. "She looks so content with you."

Kame wonders if he imagined the flash of reluctance when Jin returns the infant to her mother.

Meisa draws a tender finger around Kyoko's crushed-petal face and coos, "Hey, baby. There you are. Hi. I got you." Kyoko immediately reacts to her mother's presence, rooting for her next meal-time, her miniature starfish hands curling and extending. Meisa looks up with a besotted smile touched with regret.

"I think I ought to feed her before we head out. Jin, do you mind if I use your room?"

"No," Jin says, "of course not. It's the right door opposite the bathroom. Make yourself at home." They both watch Meisa nod before she moves off.

Jin thrusts his hands into his jeans' pockets, and leans back against the counter beside Kame, not leaving any room between them. Kame suppresses the urge to immediately shift away and instead tries to quiet the butterflies that have taken up residence. He stares hard at the middle distance and gnaws on the tip of his thumb, expecting Jin to move off after the minutes stretch out. Cheers erupt over another touchdown. The refrigerator gets raided for beers by an irregular stream of people who nod at Jin or stop to chit-chat before wandering off again. Kame stays still, as if his motionlessness can somehow control the maelstrom of concerns vying for his complete attention.

After a while, Jin gives him a sidelong look and clears his throat.

"Okay, I know you're worrying," he says, just loud enough to be heard over the din. "I can hear you. You need to stop that. It isn't good for you."

Kame snorts but he doesn't speak. After a moment he shakes his head and tips his chin down to his chest.

Jin turns, leaning into him slightly, and he says, closer to Kame's ear. "You forget."

Kame rolls his eyes. "What did I forget."

"You forget that I know you."

Kame doesn't have a response for that. Once Kame would have been angry to hear Jin play that card. Jin hasn't known him for years. Except-

Except for all the ways that he does. Kame tightens his jaw and stares hard at his shoes.

"Everything will be fine," Jin continues. "All of it. Sesamo, Andrew, Outlandish-"

"Do I have a slot in my head that says 'deposit pep talk here'?" Kame pokes his forehead.

Jin bumps his shoulder, hard enough to push him off balance and stumble to the side. Kame glares: "Hey!"

"Hey yourself," Jin says with that stupid lopsided grin that's both brittle and hopeful at the same time. "Relax. Okay? Trust me."

Kame finds himself inexplicably obeying, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little.

"Okay," he mutters, "okay."

Jin doesn't look convinced. "When's the last time you hit a bag? Maybe you just need to blow off some steam-"

"I'm going Saturday afternoon, ojiisan."

"Good." Jin has his hands on his hips.

"Why are you riding my ass about this anyway," Kame grumbles. When he turns to look at Jin, he's surprised to see something like hurt flash across Jin's face before it's replaced by a blank expression. Jin folds his arms over his chest and avoids Kame's eyes.

"Self-interest," Jin says blandly. "I need you to be on top of your game if I'm gonna do this Outlandish thing with you. Can't have you dragging me down. Anyway I have way more to lose than you do. At the end of the day, you have three restaurants and a successful company. If we suck, most people will say you had an off day. Me? I'm still building my rep in this city."

And even if Jin's just messing with him, he sounds so infuriatingly reasonable-

"Hey," Kame frowns, "what makes you think I don't need to worry about you making me look bad?"

Jin throws him a look that says yeah, right.

"As if," he says with an eye-roll. "Nah, you just get your head in the game. Don't gotta worry about me. I'm cool as a cucumber."

Jin nods emphatically as if to underline his pronouncement, and Kame laughs, despite himself.

+part eight
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