Murder III Chapter 26
Title: Murder III
Rated M for violence and mature scenes
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Chapter 26
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2 weeks later
The bell to the Shun family store chimed cheerfully and Izaki looked up from his book he’d been reading to see who the new customer was. They’d been busier than usual lately.
“Ah.” He muttered softly as Sugihara and Honjo trudged into the store, shaking off the rain that had soaked through their school uniforms. “Where’s Kirishima?”
“Tutoring.” Honjo walked over to the snack food isle and began picking out things, not even looking up from his book.
Izaki raised an eyebrow. “Tutoring?”
“Miwako-sensei.” Sugihara put in as a way of explanation, and Izaki saw his cheeks turn a bit pink at the mentioning of the new teacher. Izaki snorted, closing his book and leaning back in his chair. Really…he had never expected the trio to ever be tamed by anyone, let alone a teacher.
It takes all kinds, I guess, he thought wryly as Sugihara leaned against the counter, elbow brushing the cash register.
“You ok?”
“Fine.” Izaki looked back down at his book. He knew that Sugihara and Honjo had come to check up on him. He wondered who they were doing it for. Genji? No, they disliked him too much to follow orders and report back to him. Tamao? They hated him as much as they hated Genji. Tokio? He didn’t think so. So maybe they were just checking for themselves…but it didn’t make it any less annoying.
He’d been discharged from the hospital a week and a half earlier and had gone straight home. His mother hadn’t been pleased with the arrangement and he couldn’t quite understand why. Aki was glad. His father was happy that he had someone to help out at the store again. Why hadn’t his mother been thrilled?
He kept his cell phone on him at all times, in case Tokio or the others called him. They hadn’t yet, and he was a bit relieved. The day he’d left the hospital had been awkward. The ‘agreement’ had hung over all of them since that night and they’d been tense and uncomfortable around each other. And then Izaki had simply left, saying he’d be back in a while after he spent some time with his family.
Not that he’d live long enough for that.
He could already feel his body getting sluggish and achy again. It wasn’t bad, like before, and the doctors had said he was fine when he went in for his last check up a few days ago. He supposed he should trust them.
But it was hard, because his body told him he was going to die.
“If you’re going to buy cigarettes do it quickly. My dad is out back.” Izaki finally muttered as Honjo walked up to the counter with his snacks.
“Ah, yeah.” Sugihara grabbed a pack and placed it on the counter and Honjo did the same.
Izaki began ringing up the items, and the silence stretched. He could hear the rain outside, but the sound was dulled by the walls and it wasn’t enough to distract him. The soft sound of his father stacking crates in the back of the store was rhythmic, but not loud enough for anything useful, really. Even the soft beep as he scanned each item didn’t take away from the tense atmosphere.
He finished scanning Honjo’s items and waited as the younger man fished in his pocket for his money. He finally handed it to him and Izaki opened the register to take out the change. His hand stilled above the button and he swallowed.
His entire body felt chilled, and he could feel goosebumps rising on his arms. He resisted the urge to grimace.
“…I’ll be right back. My dad needs something.” He muttered, standing and heading for the back.
“What the…?”
He heard Honjo mutter something else, but his ears were ringing so he didn’t quite catch it all. He slipped through to the back storage room and was glad that his dad was too busy checking inventory to notice him as he opened the door to outside and into the rain.
He promptly doubled over one of the empty crates and vomited onto the cement.
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“Wa…it’s been forever since we’ve met up here.” Chuta slumped back against the couch inside of the bar, looking around with a small grin. His eyes caught the glass window in the corner and he remembered when it was only him, Genji, and Ken. When he’d been telling them the hierarchy of Suzuran.
When life was so much simpler. A sobering thought, and he could already feel the mood dampening.
Makise nodded, though he wasn’t smiling, knowing that Genji’s gaze was hardly amicable. “Yeah. It feels like the good old days.”
The original three of GPS sat in silence for a few moments, mainly because Genji failed to respond. He turned his glass around in his hand. It amazed him how no matter how much the glass turned, the ice stayed in one place. Izaki had explained why to him at some point, something scientific.
Izaki.
He hadn’t seen him for a week. When he’d been discharged from the hospital it had been awkward, but nothing could be as awkward as when he’d woken up that morning with the biggest hangover in the world to find himself asleep on Izaki’s bed with the other man lying beside him.
He felt like shit. He didn’t know what was going on, only that his head was throbbing and he felt nauseous. He was lying on his side, curled up in an awkward little ball. His feet were pressed against something and his head was turned at an odd angle to keep from pushing against whatever was above him. Something warm was pressed against his back.
He figured he was probably lying on a bed but he didn’t have the strength or courage to open his eyes. Anytime he moved them beneath his eyelids pain spiked through his head. His face was pressed against a smooth, cool surface. Sheets. They didn’t smell like the sheets at home. It wasn’t a ‘laundry’ clean smell but a ‘disinfected’ smell.
He slowly cracked his eyes open.
Hospital.
He knew because the first thing he saw was the couch that sat across from the bed. It was empty, but a blanket had been haphazardly folded and lain out on the couch arm. Then the soft beeping of machines filled his senses and his head began to throb again.
Genji let out a small groan and breathed in deeply. He caught a distinctive smell, the soft scent that he would recognize anywhere. The warmth at his back made sense now, as did the hospital room.
He was lying on Izaki’s bed.
Izaki was lying beside him.
What on earth had happened? He managed to sit up and the world began spinning. He felt sick and made to stumble to the bathroom but was stopped by a voice.
“Put your head between your knees and take a few deep breaths and calm down.”
He complied, mostly because moving meant he’d throw up faster and he felt that Izaki probably knew what he was talking about. He did so, and his head blanked and went fuzzy before it began clearing and the nausea began to subside. He remained where he was, however, with his forehead pressed against the fabric of his business slacks. He hadn’t changed out of his work suit then?
His cheeks felt tight and disgusting, as if something were stuck to them. He lifted up a hand and rubbed. His eyes were dry and he blinked a few times so they’d stop burning. Had he been crying? Why had he been crying? And then it hit him, like a second wave of nausea and he really wanted to throw up this time.
His mother was here. She’d found him. The woman that had abandoned him had found him. More than sad, he felt angry and hurt. He wanted to punch something, even as his hands fisted tightly. What right did she have to leave him and then come back whenever she damn well felt like it? Didn’t she understand anything? Mom’s didn’t do that.
“Are you feeling better?”
What an ironic question. If he meant whether or not Genji felt like throwing up then yes, he felt much better. If he meant whether Genji felt like he’d been punched in the stomach then no, he felt like shit.
“Yeah.” Because it was better if Izaki didn’t know anything. Izaki had enough shit to deal with and he probably still hated him. Why the hell had he even been allowed back in the hospital room? He had figured Izaki would hate him forever.
A hand on his shoulder. “Tokio went to class and Tamao left with Atasuke-san for the office. Atasuke-san said to let you sleep.” The warmth from Izaki’s hand spread through his shoulder and it eased the pain a bit. Atasuke…did he know? He seemed to know everything. He assumed his father knew. The bastard always knew. He’d probably set it up to make Genji look like a complete idiot.
Izaki shifted on the bed, making it creak, “Do you want to go and get something to eat?”
“Is it ok for you to leave the hospital room?” Fuck, stupid question to ask. Why the hell had he done that? Didn’t he ever learn that talking about Izaki’s illness would just end with Izaki pissed off? The hand on Genji’s shoulder stiffened a bit before it left its perch. Genji’s shoulders sagged. Dammit…what had he done?
“I’m getting discharged tomorrow so I think it’ll be alright. Come on, let’s go.” His voice was the same calm that Genji was used to. There was no hint of anger at all. He slowly looked up and saw that Izaki was standing beside the bed beside him. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his sweat pants-they were tied tightly so that they wouldn’t hang off of his hips-and his shirt was looser than it should have been. His black beanie fit snuggly on his head and he looked…stronger. He looked healthier than Genji had seen him in weeks.
“I can’t give you anything for your hangover if you don’t eat something first.” Izaki continued, raising an eyebrow and giving Genji the usual ‘what the hell is your problem?’ look that he seemed to shoot him often. Or maybe not so much now. It had been a while since he’d gotten that look. It reminded him of Suzuran. It reminded him of Izaki not being sick, and that was enough to get him to stand.
They headed toward the door, but before they reached it, Izaki spoke again.
“You shouldn’t give up on your mother just yet.”
He hadn’t known that Izaki knew about his mother at the time. He had assumed he had walked into the hospital room drunk off of his ass and had passed out on the bed and Izaki had let him stay there. He hadn’t thought that he would have talked to Izaki about his mother at all. But apparently he had and that had led to the most uncomfortable breakfast he’d ever eaten with anyone else. No one had talked and Genji had simply stared at Izaki in shocked silence, watching him eat.
He hadn’t gotten the courage to ask him what he’d said about his mother that day. The next day he had left the hospital with his mother and sister and Genji still hadn’t built up the courage to call him and see how he was doing.
“Genji-san.” Chuta’s voice broke him out of his thoughts and the ice cubes in his glass clanked against the side of the cup loudly as his hand jerked back.
“Uhn?” He muttered, blinking and looking up to see both Chuta and Makise watching him intently.
“How’s Izaki?” Makise finally asked, and Genji realized that neither Chuta or Makise had been able to see Izaki for weeks, even when he was hospitalized. They were both busy working, trying to make a life for themselves in a world that didn’t accept their fists.
He’d wanted to offer them jobs at one point, but he’d realized that working for the yakuza…it wasn’t something he wanted them to do. He didn’t want anyone from Suzuran to work with him. He was pissed off enough as it was that Tamao had joined without his consent. What if he got shot? Tokaji had almost died. Genji wouldn’t be able to handle it if anyone actually did.
“…he’s been discharged…”
“We knew that already.” Chuta leaned back in the chair. “How has he been doing at home?” Because they obviously thought that Genji was keeping in touch.
“Fine.” Genji answered automatically, because if he didn’t, they would know he was lying. Chuta nodded, accepting the answer, going back to his drink. Makise, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes a bit in suspicion. He didn’t say anything, simply raised his beer bottle to his lips, but his gaze never left Genji’s face.
Genji really couldn’t lie to save his life.
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“Iwahara-san, here’s the money from the Mahjong parlor on seventh street.”
“Ah, good. Take it back to the office and give it to Marima-san.”
“Hai.”
Tamao let out an angry sigh, leaning against the black Lincoln as he watched Atasuke interact with the other men from the organization on their rounds. He’d been doing this for a few days now and all he could think about was how boring it was. It was really a lame ass job. He didn’t want to be stuck trailing Atasuke. The man kicked his ass enough, he didn’t need to follow him around like a little puppy too.
It didn’t help that after a day of this he got to head back to the office and train. He hadn’t shot a gun yet because Atasuke thought he’d end up killing someone. So he’d been watching others, and he’d been shown how to take the safety on and off. It didn’t seem hard at all.
The gun was heavier in his hand than he’d expected it to be.
But none of that made any of this any better or any more enjoyable. Tamao stuffed his hands into his coat pocket and stared down at his feet. Feet that were covered in shoes. Shoes that probably cost more than his entire yearly intake of ramen. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind the outfit-he felt badass and he knew that everyone else knew he was badass when he wore it-but…it wasn’t his style. He preferred his Hawaiian shirts and rolled up jeans.
Button up shirts, slacks, ties, suit jackets, and Dockers were not something that Tamao was used to. And it was stuffy. The weather had begun to warm up even more as summer neared and he was sweating like a fucking pig. The rain earlier in the day hadn’t helped. It had only made the air feel wet and muggy. He reached up a hand and loosened his tie. The thing felt like it was strangling him. He could feel the sweat collecting around the collar of his shirt, making it stick to the back of his neck.
It was times like these that he realized how nice short hair was.
Footsteps. Tamao looked up to see Atasuke walking back toward him and the car. He gave that slow, calculating smile-it was a sneer, that man thought he owned him, the bastard-and nodded, “One more stop and we’ll head back to the office.”
“The fuck?” Tamao growled, “What about Genji? Dammit Atasuke what is-”
“Address me as Iwahara-san.” Atasuke opened the car door and slipped inside. “Now that you are working for the Ryuuseikai you need to learn the hierarchy.”
Tamao’s eyes narrowed but he simply jerked open the back door and got inside, slamming it behind him. “Where are we going now?” Because he knew that his question wasn’t going to get answered. Ever since the night he’d left early beating Tamao-it wasn’t something Tamao liked to remember-Atasuke had been distracted. He’d been avoiding any conversation about Genji and hadn’t seemed to interact much with him at all.
Tamao knew this because Tamao was always with Atasuke and since he hadn’t seen Genji, he knew it meant that Atasuke hadn’t either. Something had happened and Tamao wasn’t quite sure what it was. Had Atasuke and Genji fought?
Or was Atasuke pissed off because Genji was paying less attention to his duties as the Boss because he was distracted by Izaki’s illness? Tamao hadn’t talked to Izaki since he’d been discharged. He hadn’t known what to say. Izaki had agreed to Tokio’s plan.
Saying that Izaki had agreed to Tamao being his lover was awkward and stupid. Lover itself was a word that Tamao didn’t think he’d ever use to describe himself or anyone else. It was a romantic word, and it was a cliché word. Tamao didn’t like that. Tamao told it how it was and he just didn’t feel like there was a word to describe what he and Izaki could be.
Whatever Izaki and Genji were now, he supposed. But he didn’t know how to describe that either.
So Izaki had left and returned home. Tamao figured he was doing alright. He had to have been. Reiko would have come to them if she thought that something was wrong or if Izaki had to be taken back to the hospital or something.
But that wouldn’t happen. Izaki was fine now, right? He was healthy. The treatment had worked. Izaki would be back to his old self in no time. Tamao wondered if that would change things. Would it make Izaki reject Tokio’s offer? Once he realized he was going to live, would he tell them all that it was a lie?
He didn’t know. Izaki didn’t break his word so it wasn’t likely, but there was a part of Tamao that felt that this entire thing was off. Izaki had some kind of hidden agenda for it all and Tamao had no idea what it was.
The car slid to a halt and Tamao felt the seatbelt rub against his chest. He turned just as Atasuke opened the car door. “Come on, this is the last stop.”
Tamao undid his seatbelt and got out on the other side, closing the door. He rested his hand on the top of the car as he looked around. A gigantic home loomed above him. “…who are we here to see?”
“Hamaguchi-san.” Atasuke murmured, slipping on his sunglasses. “You’ll recognize him when we seem him.”
Recognize him? How would Tamao know someone in the yakuza? But he gave his usual smirk, slipping on his own sunglasses. Whatever, he didn’t care who the old fucker was, as long he got to go home and eat something afterwards.
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“Tokio-kun, what do you think about remodeling the kitchen?”
Tokio looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow. “Remodeling?” He was sitting in the kitchen at the table, books and papers full of notes scattered across it. A black pen was stuck haphazardly behind his ear while he held a red pen in hand. He’d been circling mistakes in his term paper that he needed to fix before he submitted it and well…now his mother was talking about remodeling?
“Mother, we just moved here.”
He had moved in with his mother right after Izaki had left the hospital. There wasn’t a need to live anywhere else and his mother had wanted to spend time with him. She’d finally rented her own apartment, moving out of his grandmother’s house. She’d said that it was her first step toward behind independent. She’d tacked a large list-the handwriting wasn’t her own-to the fridge and one of the first things on it was to move to her own apartment.
He wasn’t sure who had made the list or why, but he figured it was a rather helpful one. If only his mother was less herself and more the type that could survive living on her own. “We just got this apartment and you don’t have a job yet. We can’t afford to remodel anyway.”
“Ah, right.” His mother gave a sheepish smile but it was a bit pained. He knew that his mother couldn’t stand living like this. She’d never had to support herself before. She’d always relied on his own parents or his father and by being cut off, she was setting herself up for a fall. Tokio didn’t want her to go back to his father by any means, but he didn’t think he could stand watching her stumble around with this new lifestyle like a baby just learning how to walk.
If she fell, there wasn’t really anyone to catch her.
He was afraid she would still go back to his father because this would prove to be too much for her. His mother hadn’t met with his father to discuss a divorce and Tokio knew it was because she was too afraid to meet him. She’d always been intimidated by him.
“When are you going to see your friends?” His mother finally asked, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a juice carton, pouring herself a drink.
“No time.” Tokio muttered, and he hoped his mother would end it there. She was always pestering him about them, wondering why he hadn’t moved into Genji’s house. She seemed to be under the impression that the four would be moving in together when Izaki had gotten out of the hospital.
Tokio had been under that impression too but that had changed rather quickly with Izaki’s decision. And even if Tokio had wanted to move into Genji’s house with just himself, Genji, and Tamao while they waited for Izaki to have his alone time to think things over it would have been impractical.
Tamao always slept over at the Ryuuseikai office when he wasn’t off working with Atasuke.
Genji…Genji was just plain busy.
All of them were just too busy to even think about the agreement in the first place. Or maybe they were keeping themselves busy so they wouldn’t have to think about it. He knew it was a touchy subject and that none of them quite wanted to deal with it at the moment, but he also knew it was something that needed to be done.
He also knew that even thought they were all busy, all of them wanted to go and see Izaki to check up on him. Even if he was out of the hospital there was a chance for a relapse-it wouldn’t happen, he knew it wouldn’t but sometimes you just had to plan for these things-and Tokio wanted to make sure he was doing alright.
He knew that Tamao had gotten up the courage and called Aki once just to see if Izaki was ok, but none of them had called Izaki directly yet.
Cowards.
But he supposed that made him a coward too.
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Chapter 27: http://lady-hanaka.livejournal.com/25156.html