That Mafia!AU Pikame Fic Part Two (for Real)
Title: Gravity Is Not The Only Thing Holding Me Back.
Fandom: JE
Pairing: Pikame
Rating: PG15
Warning: unbeta’ed, tenses change like WHOA, character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and no profit is made.
Summary: AU. Mafia verse. “Because even if I could turn back time, I would totally make the same choices all over again - if only so that I would still be here, at this moment in time, standing in front of you and speaking to you.”
Part One: Yamapi | Part Two: Jin | Part Three: Kame
.
Most of what I remember makes me sure
I should have stopped you from walking out the door
(You Could Be Happy - Snow Patrol)
.
This is how the world ends:
Imagine coming out of an elevator in your office, a cup of coffee in each hand; imagine the semi-darkness of your workplace, with only half the lights on, because it’s late in the night and nobody’s supposed to be there at all; imagine walking down the corridor slowly, your mind trying to form the perfect excuse for dropping in unannounced on your fiancé’s office, your heart thundering furiously at the prospect of finally seeing your fiancé again after months of separation;
imagine opening his office door only to see him in another person’s arms, with the business end of gun pressed against his temple.
Imagine stupidly opening your mouth, saying, “…Kazuya?” only to hear the most terrifying sound in your entire life, as the gun went off.
Imagine charging at the other person, only to have them break through the glass wall and jump from twelve story office.
Imagine rushing to your fiancé’s crumpled form on the floor, cradling his body to yours, eyes open, blood gushing freely from the wound on his head.
Imagine feeling his heartbeat slowing down to a stop.
There’s a deafening roar in your ears as you feel your whole world come crashing down.
-
(This is the things he wants to say to Yamapi but never does: I’m sorry. Let me help you. Don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. Take care of Toma. Take care of yourself.
And, most of all, we’re still friends, aren’t we?)
-
It was not Jin’s fault.
Really.
He’d been alert for the last sixty five hours tracking a suspected drug trafficker all around Tokyo while at the same time he also had to supervise his team’s cases procedures in the courthouse. He was dirty and still clad in the same clothes he wore three-days ago, with nothing but bad coffee and chocolate bars fueling his body for just as long. And to top it all, by the time he reported back to the Police Department HQ, Takki, the heartless boss that he was, forced him to attend the briefing about the latest threat of terrorism, with the assholes from the National Security Office as the speakers.
All things considered, he thought it was actually a miracle he only felt cranky at the moment, and not, say, murderous.
Although it all could change if that twat agent from he National Security Office didn’t shut up in the next minute.
“…therefore in the event blah blah blah over the general public, we should expect blah blah blah and blah blah blah the police blah blah blah…”
The next agent who took the floor, this lanky guy dressed in slick suit with a pop-star hairstyle (where does he think he is anyway? A music pop concert?), wasn’t much better. In fact, Jin thought he was probably the worst of them all.
“…blah blah blah if only the police took this kind of threat seriously from the beginning, this kind of accident would never happened; not to mention also the fact that apparently, every other thing that’s happening in the whole Police Department Headquarters is leaked out to the public - including some that are not exactly public consumption material. We strongly advise you to screen what you tell the media from now on. On that matter, the bombing case in Shibuya will be taken over by the National Security Office since-“
Seriously.
He was only a human; there was only so much he could take before he snapped.
“Oh fuck you!”
A stunned silence. Then the whole hall looked in his direction, and Jin realized he was the one who had shouted that out loud, and that he had slammed his desk and stood to do it. Huh.
“Pardon?” the pop-haired Agent said coolly.
Too late now. If he was going down, he was going down flaming. “I call you bullshit - that’s what. You elite pansyass could criticize us Police from your fancy Office all you like, but we all know out of every ten cases you took over from us, we ended up solving five by ourselves, while you only solved two and let the rest unsolved. And to fucking top it all, you took the credits for all of them without even giving us an inch!”
“Detective, I assure you-“ the Agent began, but Jin was far from done.
“Remember the drug cartel in Osaka two years ago? Or the clusterfuck that is Yamamoto case? Or the Nagoya bombing case? All the national newspapers say you guys took care of it.” Jin snorted. “They were right, if by ‘took care’ they meant arresting all the suspects in front of reporters after the police raid the place and captured them.”
“Listen, detective-“
“No, you listen. Why don’t you take that stick out of your asses and do your own fucking dirty job for once? Oh right, why should you, if you could just bully us into doing it for you and take the credits after?” he spat. “For all your talks about having better relationships with your sister law force, you sure do a fucking good job doing it, taking advantage of us and undermining our authority at every turn. Besides, if this is your version of ‘better’, I would hate to see your version of ‘bad’.”
Even graveyards had never been this silent. All of the people in the hall were staring at him wide-eyed, some even with open mouth. He could feel Koki’s grin from three aisles over, wide and excited, laced with admiration.
“Fuck this.” He claimed decisively, and heads out to the door, people giving him wide berth as he passed. He slammed the double door on his way out for good measure.
It was only much, much later, sitting on a closed toilet seat in the men’s room, a lit cig held firmly between his middle and forefinger, that Jin was hit with a sudden realization.
Holy shit, he just metaphorically stripped down the representative for the National Security Office in front of the whole Police Department. He’d be lucky if Takki didn’t literally shoot him on sight later.
Really, it was not Jin’s fault.
One of these days, someone was bound to believe it.
-
(Jin pays the bills for Kazuya’s cell phone long after he’s gone, so that he could hear his voice on the voicemail whenever he wants. Sometimes he leaves a long-ass message, talking incessantly until the timer runs out. Sometimes he just breathes into the phone, pretending he could still hear Kazuya’s heartbeat on the other end. But most of the time, he just says, “Come back to me. Come back to me. Come back to me, please.”)
-
When Jin was summoned to Takki’s office that day, he walked with the heavy steps of a man walking to his death. He didn’t doubt Takki was a fair man, but when it came to the National Security Office, all reasons kinda got out the windows. If he wasn’t gonna be dead, then at the very least he was gonna get sacked.
He couldn’t be more wrong.
“You want me to what?” Jin stared at his superior in disbelief.
“I said I want you to work together with Agent Matsumoto Jun here--” Takki gestured to the only other person on the room, the pop-star-haired pansy ass Agent from yesterday’s briefing - the one Jin had mouthed off to. “-to work on a highly confidential case. Imai Tsubasa-“ Jin had to repress a snort at that, “--from the National Security Office agreed that it’s time for us to stop competing with each other and join forces instead.”
“Takki-san, were you even aware of what happened in the briefing yesterday?” Jin tried to appeal. The Agent sneers at him just off Takki’s peripheral vision. Bastard.
“Perfectly, detective.” Takki replied calmly. “Hence this joint forces thing.”
“With all due respect sir-“
“Akanashi.” Takki leveled him with a look. Then he nodded to the pansy ass from their sister Office. “Agent.”
With a smile that was sharp enough to cut, eyes glinting dangerously, the Agent offered his hand to Jin. “Matsumoto Jun.” I’ll bring you down.
Jin took his hand, showing his own smile, baring way too many teeth to be called ‘friendly’. “Akanishi Jin.” Bring it on.
“Gee, I can see the beginning of a beautiful relationship.” Takki commented impassively, still in that calm tone of his.
Jin really couldn’t decide whether it was only sarcasm or genuine sentiment.
-
(Despite the fact that the temporary joint-forces thing is commandeered by both Jin and Matsujun, some things, Jin finds out later, he’s not privy to-simply because he’s in way too deep in a certain case: Kazuya’s murder case. He could always ask Matsujun’s teammates, but they’re all loyal as fuck to him, so of course he has to go back to his own teammates, except. Except they’re all acting clueless without even avoiding his eyes. Jin finds this unsettling.
“You’re hiding something from me.” Jin says.
“Yes.” Nakamaru says.
“Regarding Kazuya’s murder.” Jin says.
“Yes.” Nakamaru says.
“Tell me.” Jin demands.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense.” Jin says, and leaves, disgusted.)
-
A week into their ‘joint forces’, Matsujun brought him to the underground facility beneath the National Security Office central building. This was so spy-movie-esquee that Jin didn’t even bother to point out the cliché nature of it all. Down three levels, Matsujun gestured to him to a small room, where Sakurai Sho, Matsujun’s teammate (also the sanest one out of them all) is waiting.
Jin blinked.
In the other side of the glass window was a man (a boy?); he was shirtless and only clad in prison-standard trousers; his head bent down, so his long hair mostly covered his face; he was on his knees, with his hands suspended in the air by a pair of chain - though Jin noted there were pads (bandages?) on his wrists where the chains encircled them; thin as hell too - though whether it was from lack of food or if he was built that way, Jin couldn’t be sure. Scars and dried blood were lined all over his body - across his chest, near his hips, down his abdomen.
He raised an eyebrow at Matsujun, who was also watching the window. “I thought you guys were too high and mighty to resort to plebeian means such as torture…?”
“We never tortured him physically, if you were referring to those scars on his body.” Matsujun’s voice was even, bland, bored. “Those are already on his body when we captured him two weeks ago. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink, couldn’t function normally at all. Very violent, too. We had to feed him through IV line straight to his vein when he’s asleep like this, or risk major bodily harm.”
Jin looked at Sho, who watched them all impassively. “Who’s he?”
“We believe he’s an Eraser from The Syndicate we all know and love.” Sho frowned. “Or an ex-Eraser, as the case may be. The only reason we managed to detain him at all was because he was being chased left and right and his leg and his neck was shot. He would be dead by now if Nino wasn’t there patrolling. In fact, the report Nino admitted to your HQ,“ Sho looked right at Jin, “was that he was dead.”
A realization suddenly dawned on Jin. “Hence this joint forces thing.” Of course Takki wouldn’t waste an opportunity to gain a leverage against the National Security Office.
Sho nodded curtly.
Jin cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the observation glass window. “So what do you need me for? Obviously you’ve got everything squared away.”
Matsujun and Sho exchanged a glance.
“I thought Takki told you about that.” Matsujun said, looking amused and irritated at once. “I should’ve known. Clever bastard.”
Sho sent Matsujun a reprimanded look. Then he let out a long-suffering sigh and shuffled through the sack of folders in his arms. “The thing is, we believe he’s suffering from genuine amnesia. We also believe that the reason he’s been so hostile toward us despite having no memories of us is because when he first woke up, he was handcuffed to the table, in an interrogation room with its sparse glory.”
Jin snorted. You think?
“Takki and Imai-san agreed it’s in our best interest not to let him out of our sight, so we’ve assigned him a new identity.” Sho continues. “We’ll be sending him into a sedative-induced coma for a week before relocating him into a private hospital and reawaken him.”
“Still not seeing what I’m doing here.” Jin said impatiently.
Sho looked him right in the eye, and said, “He’s your new roommate.”
Jin looked at him blankly.
Sho sighed. “Read this.” He handed him a folder.
A moment later, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
-
(“Nakamaru’s hiding something regarding Kazuya’s case, and I need to know what it is.” Jin asks Ueda.
“No.” Ueda says. “You don’t.”
Jin narrows his eyes. “What, you’re in on this too?”
Ueda stares at him in that mildly creepy way of his. “If it’s any consolation, I was the one asking him not to tell you.”
It’s not.)
-
“Your roommate.” The thing repeats to himself. The tone is bland, flat, like testing new territory: careful and wary.
Jin shakes his head. He really needs to stop calling the killer-no, the person-in front of him the thing. After all, it-he, Jin reminds himself-he has a name.
Even if it was a borrowed one.
So give him a nickname, Koki said. Call him something that wouldn’t remind you of the partner you knew and loved. After all, it’s not his fault that he lost his memories. When Jin gave him an incredulous look, Koki added, well, you know what I mean.
Even as his eyes keep trained on Jin, his hands are trying out the restraints on his wrists-tugging and pulling lightly. “Is this really necessary?” he asks, not so much frustrated as curious.
Jin shrugs. “Just a precaution, mind. You thrashed so much the nurses had to refrain you from hurting yourself.” He lies. Considering the person on the bed never showed any sign for a flight upon waking up, the restraints are no longer necessary. The amnesia thing is genuine, apparently.
“What do you remember?” Jin asks.
The thing looks at him. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Something in the way he says it, in the tone he uses, makes Jin’s hackles rise. “Excuse me?”
“Look, the first thing you did after seeing me awake was introduce yourself as my roommate, using your full name. Do you see the odd thing here?”
Jin blinks.
Then, with a put-upon sigh, the kid continues, “If you were really my roommate, then you wouldn’t feel the need to introduce yourself, since obviously I would know you. For a moment I thought you’re a fraud, or a crazy person, but considering I’m the one strapped down to the bed despite the fact you look sicklier than I am, clearly something is wrong with me, and not you.”
For a few moments, Jin only stares at him. And then, “…a fraud?” Jin repeats stupidly. And then, “Wait, how do you know all these things anyway?”
“You can’t be one,” the person on the bed says, waving a hand dismissively. “A fraud needs to be comforting and confident. You, on the other hand, have been broadcasting your irritation and impatient quite loudly.” He pauses. “You also seem quite wary; although I don’t know you enough to decide whether it’s because of me, or any other reason.”
Strangely, it all seems… logical. “Or maybe I’m the kind of fraud who operates by appearing grumpy; have you ever thought of that?”
“Nah.” The kid rolls his eyes.
“Why the hell not?”
“Buddy, you stink.”
Jin abruptly stands up from his seat, sputtering. “Excuse me?”
“Your jacket is filthy, your shirt is stained, your jeans are ripped and dirty, your stubble clearly hasn’t been shaved in a month, and your hair looks like it hasn’t been washed for years.” The kid tilts his head slightly. “In short, you look so beyond homeless even the real homeless people would take pity on you.”
Jin resists the urge to slam his head onto the nearest wall. Or better yet, the kid’s head. The kid hasn’t even been up for five minutes and Jin already wants to strangle him.
But since he’s a responsible adult, he settles for the next best thing: he glares.
The kid is not impressed. Instead, he looks at Jin in a way that makes Jin feel as if he was staring him down through his nose-despite the fact the kid’s lying horizontal (and strapped!) on the bed and therefore wouldn’t be able to do so.
“For one amnesiac kid, you sure don’t act like it.” Jin mutters under his breath.
The kid blinks. “Amnesiac?” and then, “so that’s why I can’t remember my own name.”
Now Jin feels like kicking himself in the head. This is why Ueda never lets him anywhere near interrogation room. “You didn’t answer my question: how do you know all these things?”
The way the kid looks at him right now? Makes Jin feel like an idiot, and promptly the urge to strangle the kid reappears with a vengeance.
“Doesn’t everybody?” the kid says. “I mean, it’s common knowledge, after all.”
Jin just continues glaring at him.
The kid clears his throat. “So. What am I called anyway?”
“You.”
The kid regards him with a look that manages to convey both just how unimpressed he’s with Jin right now and how he wonders how such an idiot like Jin is let loose in this world.
Jin grips the papers in his hands hard to prevent himself from strangling the kid.
“So you told me. But see, I don’t think any parent is actually cruel enough to name their kid ‘You’. The kid will grow up with a complex.”
Jin stares at him.
The kid sighs. “Look, you obviously care enough to stay with me here. So why can’t you just tell me my name? I mean, I must have one, right?”
The kid’s voice falters at the last sentence, and Jin just knows it’s genuine. Koki and Nakamaru’s been giving him pep talks about this, but still he hesitates.
It’s still not too late to change it - to round up another plan, maybe. Something else that wouldn’t require him to give up Kazuya’s entire life to a fucking nameless, amnesiac sociopath.
But if there’s something Jin knows how to do, it’s to follow through; so he just smiles (grimaces) and says, “Kamenashi Kazuya.” He clears his throat, hoping the tightness in his throat would dissipate. “Your name’s Kamenashi Kazuya. Usually I just call you Kame, though.”
The grin it earns him is slow, warm, and infectious. “Cute.”
Jin blinks. For a second, he could swear he sees the shadow of Kazuya’s grin on the face of the sociopath (Kame, his name is Kame now). He tightens his grip on the papers.
Jin’s throat tightens again.
“Kamenashi, huh?” the kid says the name in this strange tone, like’s drawing it out, like he’s tasting it on his tongue. Like he’s trying to remember. But there’s no recognition in his face, and there wouldn’t be. For that alone, he feels a pang of pity for the kid. After all, he knows all about the power of names.
“Wow, having the combination of turtle and pear in my name, I must’ve gotten teased a lot in my formative years.” The kid is saying.
“Um.” Is Jin’s intelligent reply. The smile that surfaces on his face is rueful at best. “Yeah. You did.”
Right name, wrong place, wrong time, wrong person. If he tightens his grip on the papers any further, he’s going to tear them to pieces.
“So you and I are really roommates?”
Jin frowns. “Unfortunately.”
“Which means I’m a bum, too.” The kid sighs.
“A bu- Excuse me?”
“You mean you’re not?” the kid looks honestly hopeful Jin can’t decide if he’s just messing with him or not. “Oh thank God. Does that mean you just have a thing *against* hygiene then?”
Jin swears if he’s going to say ‘excuse me’ one more time, he’s so going to strangle the kid, consequences be damned. So what if he hasn’t found the time to take care of himself?
To hell with it.
“You know what? Let’s just keep the restraints a little longer, shall we? I think you’re still a bit hysterical.” He says maliciously as he saunters to the door, and--
“Oh my God. So you’re actually into bondage?”
---promptly walks straight into the doorframe.
-
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” Koki says.
Jin kicks him under the table. “So glad to know somebody’s taking pleasure in my misery.”
“For someone claiming to hate his ass, you sure looked like you’ve warmed up to him.” Ueda says mildly.
Nakamaru coughs.
Jin glares. “I did not.”
“The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.” Ueda smiles teasingly over the rim of his drink, safe in the knowledge that despite his height and weight advantage, Jin still has a hundred years before he could beat him in a fight.
Jin’s glare intensifies.
“So what did you end up calling him as?” Nakamaru says in a rush, ever the peacemaker.
“Kame.” Sullen, sullen, you’re Akanishi Jin’s new bestfriend.
“Cute.” Koki says, unerringly reminding Jin of Kame’s first comment upon hearing his nickname. He shakes his head. Koki raises an eyebrow. “I can’t believe we never called Kazuya that.”
A pause.
A coin could drop right now, and it will be the only thing that could be heard over the profound silence that suddenly settles over the table. Right. A fucking year has passed and yet still it feels like someone’s trying to squeeze the life out of him every time Kazuya is mentioned.
He really needs to get over it; after all, he’s going to live with the kid who inherits (steals) Kazuya’s name starting tomorrow.
“Has he inquired about the ring on his pinky?” Ueda asks.
“No, I don’t think he noticed it yet.” Jin discreetly tries to examine the matching ring on his right pinky. It still stings, even after a year has past, that the original owner of the other ring is no longer with them.
“You do remember what you’ve got to say when he does, though, don’t you?” Koki raises an eyebrow at him. His tone is light, but still Jin recognizes the concern for what it is.
“As if I could ever forget.” Jin mutters, and drinks his beer in a breath.
-
(Ever since then, Jin can’t sleep without seeing the scene where Kazuya got shot over and over. From those dreams (nightmares) alone, he gathers that the assailant was of the same body build and height as Kazuya, if a bit lankier. Same cat-like eyes, even. When Jin tells Ueda of what he remembers, the profiler immediately calls Nakamaru, who forces a bottle of Valium into Jin’s hand and threatens him with various bodily harms if he doesn’t take it with him before bed.
He stops dreaming afterwards.
“Stop torturing yourself; you know damn well if Kazuya’s here he wouldn’t want you to see him killed over and over again.” Nakamaru’s saying.
“But he’s not here.” Jin says, numb.
“Yes, but now you can devote your day time into finding the killer rather than wandering the office like a ghost.”
Jin concedes defeat with the sag of his shoulders.)
-
There’s a pair of rings on the table. Nondescript rings. Nondescript silver rings. Nondescript matching silver rings. Jin can’t stop staring incredulously at them.
“What the fuck.”
“Language.” Nakamaru chides.
“What the fuck.”Jin repeats, tone slightly higher.
“I swear I didn’t know anything about this!” Koki claims, his eyes looking anywhere but Jin.
“That’s why I’m asking you.” Jin growls, glaring at Nakamaru. “What the fuck, man?”
“Well, we believe a ring is more practical than a necklace or a bracelet, on the ground that one rarely replaces a ring as often as one replaces a necklace or a bracelet. Besides which, these rings are nondescript enough it wouldn’t clash with one’s clothing, and most importantly, one’s fashion sense.” Nakamaru explains reasonably, hands gesturing every which way excitedly.
“That’s not what I’m asking and you know it.” He hisses out, eyes still glaring. “Those are my engagement rings.”
“Well,” Nakamaru coughs. Koki inches closer to the door.
“It was my idea.” Ueda says out of thin air from Jin’s left. Jin turns to him, eyes narrow further. “I called it ‘moving on’.”
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Jin bites.
“Of course I’m smart. I also got my graduate degree in psychology, so if you think this is enough to rail me, think again.” Ueda’s voice is drifting somewhere between casual and soothing, slow, like he’s got all the time in the world. Like nothing could ruffle him.
Jin wants to punch him.
“Um.” Nakamaru clears his throat. “Look, Jin, Tatchan didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? Besides, I agreed to it because of the practical advantages of rings compared to other jewelry.”
Jin redirects his glare to Nakamaru’s direction.
“You’re being a child about all this and you know it.” Ueda says mildly, completely casual, leaning back on his heels with his hands in his lab coat pockets.
“Replace it.” Jin insists, looking at Nakamaru pleadingly. “Please.”
Nakamaru frowns, his hands fiddling with his lab coat collar. “We can’t. Takki said we’re gonna pull out the sedatives tonight, which means the kid’s gonna wake up the day after tomorrow at the latest. You know we’ve spent a week on this, Jin. There wouldn’t be enough time to make it out of something else.”
“I don’t care. Just-please, let it be anything else.” Jin’s close to begging by now.
“Technically speaking, they’re not your engagement rings; although I admit they’re modeled after your rings.” Ueda says, his tone completely calm. “Unless you could get Takki to change his mind regarding the kid’s awakening, there would be no remodeling.”
Right. As if anyone could ever make the Superintended Takizawa Hideaki change his mind.
Jin only glares.
-
(“How does it work anyway?” Jin asks.
Nakamaru glances at him. “The rings? They’re already programmed with your DNA specifics, so they won’t work on other people. Do not take it off for more than thirty seconds, if you do not want the whole Police Department bearing down on you.”
“Huh.”
“The rings function as tracking devices and alarm system and. Um.” Nakamaru clears his throat uncomfortably, “as stunner.”
“Stunner?”
“This one,” Nakamaru points to the slightly bigger ring, “is the controller. If you take it off for more than half a minute, then the wearer of the other ring,” he points to the smaller ring, “will get hit with enough electrical charge to bring down a horse. This is only a preventative measure though, so proceed with caution.” He pauses and looks at Jin with a frown. “Don’t abuse your authority.”
Jin doesn’t bother to hide his smile.)
-
“Jin,”
“Tatchan. What’s up?”
There’s a brief pause from the other line. And then, “Koki’s dead.”
“What?!”
“A slash wound across his stomach, deep, neat and precise;” Jin’s blood runs cold at the description. A professional, definitely. “Another body is found near him; three bullet wounds in his right shoulder, upper left chest, and left thigh. The bullets are definitely from Koki’s gun.”
Jin swallows a lump in his throat. “How…?”
“Check Kame for me, will you?”
Without wasting any second, he walks over to Kame’s room. He opens the door softly, peering into the room. There’s a considerable lump in the form of cocoon of blankets on the bed, dark reddish hair barely visible underneath. He closes the door and brings his phone back to his ear.
“Kame’s asleep in his room.”
An exhalation of breath, like a relieved sigh. “Nakamaru’s checking the ID of the other person on the database right now, but we suspect he might have been sent for Kame.”
Jin stiffens. “What do you mean?”
“Just yesterday Koki reported an unfamiliar man was seen near Kame, although it appeared the man didn’t make contact. He’d been shadowing Kame ever since, until he was found dead at the Ueno park at 10 pm last night.”
“I’ll be there in ten, okay?”
Another sigh. Although this time, it sounds tired. “No, I think we could handle it right now. Can you watch Kame for two or three days? Ask him not to leave the apartment?” another pause. “And don’t tell him anything.” Ueda adds.
“Koki’s also his friend, you know.” Jin says, frowning, and glances at Kame’s closed door.
“I’m aware of that. Just… for now, just let it be, okay?”
Jin tears his eyes away from Kame’s door and walks back to the living room. “Fine. But you owe me an explanation.”
-
(This is the thing Jin wishes to forget but never does:
Jin’s hand around Yamapi’s wrist, preventing him from leaving. “Don’t go.”
Yamapi’s eyes were wild and caged and despairing and everything Yamapi was not. “But Toma-“
“Don’t go,” Jin repeated. “Let’s find help, or - or another way, something.”
“You don’t understand,” Yamapi said, frustrated and angry.
“Of course I don’t understand! You two never told me anything anymore!” the unexpected bitterness in his voice took him by surprise, and in that second, Yamapi managed to wrench his wrist free, staggering backwards unsteadily, a flash of hurt in his eyes. Jin took a step forward, but Yamapi took two steps backwards, looking at him with such confusion and pain and something else that Jin didn’t dare to name. “Yamapi-“
“No.” Yamapi said, voice so small it might as well be a whisper, “no.” he was shaking his head, like it might actually lessened the confliction he had in his mind. “I can’t-I don’t want to leave him alone. I just-no.” then he lifted his eyes to meet Jin’s, pain written all over his face. “I’m-I’m sorry.”
Jin was hysterical enough to laugh. Sorry? For what? For leaving me here? For choosing one friend over the other? For cutting me off from your little circle? For being unable to stay? For what, dammit!
But it all boiled down to this: What does Toma have that I don’t, that makes you choose him over me?
“I’m sorry.” Yamapi repeated, stepping backward once more, before turning around and walking away from Jin-forever.
Jin has never quite forgiven him since.)
-
“You’re upset with me.” Jin observes on the dining room, ten minutes after Yamapi leaves them.
“Gee, I wonder why.” Kame says prissily, stuffing his mouth with such speed and vigor as has never been seen before.
Jin sighs, moving his chopsticks around in his miso soup bowl idly. “You could at least pretend you’re not trying to get away from me as fast as possible.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my chomping and biting around.” Then he emphasizes his words by doing exactly that: chew his food noisily with his mouth open, which is disgusting and so unlike the ever graceful Kame that Jin can’t help but laugh.
“Fine. I get the point.” Jin concedes, smiling ruefully. “You can stop sulking any second now.”
“I’m not sulking!” Kame barks sharply, glaring at Jin. “It’s just that, I’ve been planning this night for days, only for you to ruin in under five minutes! I still can’t believe you chose tonight of all nights to rain in my parade and come home early…” he continues to mutter under his breath.
Jin puts down his chopstick on his plate carefully, and watches Kame. Is he even aware Yamapi is a wanted man? Not only by one organization, but all three at that?
“He seems a little too old for you, don’t you think?”
Kame looks at him like he’s crazy. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of all the reasons you could come up, and you chose the lamest one? You told me yourself he was your childhood friend--which means he’s got to be the same age as you, or at least near your age! So what does that make you then?”
Jin narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about! That’s the point! Oh screw this!” He throws his hands up in despair and stalks to his room, his whole body radiating irritation and annoyance.
“I just don’t think he’s right for you!” Jin shouts after him, “You don’t even know anything about him!”
“Screw you!” then he slams his bedroom door for good measure.
Jin sighs. Kids these days.
-
(Later, Jin would bring him a box of cake and ice cream as peace offering, and they would once again seated at the dining table, only with a much lighter atmosphere this time around.
Then, as Kame forks his cake delicately, Jin would ask, “So. How did you meet him anyway?”
Kame would stare at him, as if scrutinizing him, before settling for the truth: “He fell into a hole.”
Jin doesn’t stop laughing for hours.)
-
The thing is-the thing is, he knows what it’s like to lose someone who means the world to you, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Ever. Even a ruthless killer.
That’s why he tries to get Kame to stop meeting Yamapi - and he knows Kame’s still meeting Yamapi despite his warnings and his concerns.
It’s not even because he thinks Yamapi’s a bad guy-more like misguided, really. If there’s one thing Jin always know about his childhood friends, it’s that they always have their hearts in the right place, even if they do have the most absurd (and often misguided) ways in achieving it.
With the Police Department, The National Security Office, and The Syndicate themselves hot on his ass, Yamapi’s death is a novelty in its inevitability.
While Kame… So long as he stops seeing Yamapi, The Syndicate wouldn’t even notice their dead ex-Eraser is still alive.
He’s only trying to keep at least one of them alive. Is it so much to ask?
-
(“You’re excited.” Jin noted.
“Yes.” Kazuya smiled. “A month, and my undercover assignment would be over. Aside from that, I believe I have convinced one of the Erasers to turn to our side.”
“I don’t care about that.” Jin urges. “I just want you back here.”
“But Jin, I think you’d like him. He really resembles me, in certain ways.”
“Just… come back home safe, okay? That’s all I ask. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He lied.)
-
“Hello?”
“Jin, that’s you?”
“Hey, Yokoyama, something’s up?”
“You alone right now?”
“I could be.” Then he steps into the corridors, passing his cellphone to his left hand, and heads out for the emergency stairs, nodding in greeting at the fellow officers he passes by. “I am now.”
“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you about this since apparently this is some high-clearance shit right here, right where I’m not supposed to have access to, so if anyone asked, you didn’t hear it from me, you understand?”
“Go on.”
There’s the sound of rustle papers, and then Yokoyama continues, “Remember the DNA sample you got me from Kazuya’s crime scene? Right. Of course you do. Here’s the thing: we’ve got a match.”
Jin’s had to grip the wall beside him for support. After all this time… “What? How-I mean, who?”
“There’s still high chance this is only a coincidence. Or that the tests are foiled somehow, or. Or maybe the sample itself was contaminated from the start, so nothing is definitive yet and you shouldn’t take it for granted since there’s a probability this is a mistake and-“
“Yokoyama,” Jin interrupts him, “Who is it?”
A pause. Then a deep breath, and Yokoyama’s voice, when it comes, is uncharacteristically pained and not a little strained. “It’s…it’s Kame.”
Jin can only see red.
-
(The day before that fateful night, Jin sends Yamapi an email to his old email address:
Look, have you even considered that this all might have been an elaborate plan to get rid of you? You don’t seem very well-liked over there, and all the Police have over you are only circumstantial evidences. The National Security Office may have more, but I’m assured they don’t want you dead. So whatever it is you’re gonna do tomorrow, drop it, okay? You’re smart; you should’ve figured out it’s a trap. So. Don’t do it.
Bakanishi.)
-
“What are you doing here?” Jin asks, not bothering to open his eyes. He’s sitting sprawled on the floor with his head thrown back over the coach seat, a cold can of beer pressed over his temple.
Jin hears Matsujun’s even footsteps getting closer, not a second delay on his stride, like he doesn’t even notice the strewn of broken glasses and shredded things all over the floor.
“Nishikido Ryo’s in town.”
Jin’s head shoots up. “What?” then he winces as his migraine comes back with a vengeance. He presses the heels of his hands over his eyes to ride out the momentary dizziness. “When was this?”
“Three days ago. One of the cameras at the heart of Akihabara caught him.” Matsujun’s voice is clipped and rather irritated, so unlike his usual smooth and silky come hither tenor. Something’s clearly on his mind, and the fact the Special Agent doesn’t even try to cover it up - especially in front of Jin - is rather troubling in itself.
“You think he let himself get caught on purpose.” It’s not a question.
Matsujun sits at the armrest of the couch, his forefinger tapping his neatly-pressed pants-covered thigh restlessly. “That’s the thing: I know for sure he was caught off guard. There was a promotion event for the newly released game in front of one of the stores at the time, and at such crowded place, with over-excited freaks everywhere, even an intimidating force like him would find difficulty passing through-especially if he didn’t kill anybody in the process.” He drops a thin blue folder onto the couch, nearly hitting Jin’s head.
“You’re worried.” Again, it’s not a question. Jin opens the folder and tries to read the report and the accompanying report slowly, mindful of his migraine.
“Very.” Matsujun says, his tapping getting faster. “If even someone as invisible and careful as Nishikido Ryo got careless enough to get recorded on a cctv camera, something big must be going on - big enough to unnerve even the most cool-headed individual like Nishikido.” He pauses, taking a second to look around, before going back to Jin. “Where’s your charge?”
“He’s at Nakamaru’s.” At Matsujun’s raised eyebrow, Jin holds up a hand. “Leave it, okay?”
“Why, far be it for me to meddle in your domestic affair, but do you think this is the right time to pick a fight with him?”
“Seriously, leave it.” Jin glares.
Matsujun sighs. “I don’t think you understand me here. We need you to not fight with him, because we need him to trust you implicitly. With Uchi Hiroki’s missing, there’s a possibility Nishikido may try to contact Kamenashi. ”
“Wait. Uchi Hiroki’s missing?”
“None’s seen him for a week now. Also, did you know that Yamashita Tomohisa, our Top Priority case, is back in Tokyo right now?”
“What?”
“See, this is what happens when you keep deleting my emails without even opening them. Please stop doing so from now on. Besides, it hurts my feelings.”
Jin pointedly ignores Matsujun’s mock hurt expression. Carefully, he tries to stand up, only to stagger unsteadily and end up on the couch.
“Speaking of, you must have one hell of a fight, for your apartment to be in this…chaotic mess.” Something flickers behind Matsujun’s eyes. But Jin is too wrung out to deal with Matsujun’s shit right now, so he doesn’t even try.
“Can it, okay? I mean it.” Again, he presses his hands over his eyes, willing the pressure to lessen. What exactly did he drink after Kame left anyway?
Something hits him on his head. He cracks an eye open and brings the thing to his line of sight. It’s a small bottle of…something. Of dubious content. Highly dubious content, judging from the color.
Jin eyes it suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Our very own homemade hungover medicine slash anti-headache.” Matsujun examines his (perfectly manicured) nails absently. “A hundred percent guaranteed to clear your head.”
“Clear your head as in clear your head? Complete with the brain matter removal?” Jin states incredulously. “Look, it’s not that I don’t trust Aiba; It’s just that I really, really don’t trust his inventions.”
Matsujun waves a dismissing hand. “Oh don’t worry about it. Unlike those mechanical devices I gave you, we’ve tested this thing ourselves.”
“You gave me untested experiment devices?!”
Matsujun continues as if he didn’t hear him. “Your head would feel like it’s been flattened by a train for like, two minutes, but let me tell you, it’s better than feeling like shit all day.” He looks critically at Jin. “And I need you steady for now. There’s been suspicion that Yamashita’s still working for The Syndicate, despite all evidence - or lack there of - to the contrary.”
And now they’re back on the job. Not that they ever go anywhere else, but still. “You think Uchi’s disappearance and Nishikido and Yamashita’s reappearance are related somehow?”
“I know they’re related; I just haven’t figured out how.” Then Matsujun clears his throat. “You know what? Why don’t you take some of those,” he gestures to the bottle of pills in Jin’s hand, “so we could get going? Sho-chan’s debriefing your team - minus Nakamaru - as we speak.”
Right. Of course. He takes three pills out and swallows them dry. The effect is immediate; Jin makes it into the sink in the kitchen in record time, heaving onto it, but nothing comes; he feels like he’s on fire, like his blood is about to go up in smoke, like his brain is about to ooze out of his ears; two decades later, hands gripping the edge of the sink hard, dry-heaving still, he tries riding out the residual nausea, cursing Matsujun and his merry band of crazy teammates all the way.
Matsujun clears his throat again. “Also, someone’s been digging Kamenashi Kazuya’s record.” Jin’s head snaps at him lightning fast. “As in, your former partner, not your current charge.”
“What?”
“That was why we tried to find Uchi Hiroki in the first place.”
“Anything stood out?”
“So far, only one file is missing from your former partner’s reports.” Matsujun pauses, eyeing Jin in that weird way he sometimes does, one that Jin haven’t been able to interpret.
Jin’s eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me: it was the drug cartel report in Osaka from two years past.”
“Stop looking at me like that. Do try to remember that I wasn’t the one who killed your former partner.” Matsujun says dryly. Jin would’ve totally ignored his casual remark if not for the unexpected tightness at the end of Matsujun’s sentence.
Jin’s eyes narrow further. “Something on your mind, Agent?”
“Yes, actually.” Matsujun drags out the word ‘yes’, until it sounds like two syllables instead of one, until the ‘s’ sounds like a hiss. “Do I need to remove your from the case? Like, some time in the immediate future? Because if I do, then I’d like to know about it now.”
Jin’s lips thin, and he has to bite back the first thing that comes to mind upon hearing that. “If you’re insinuating that I’ve been compromised, Agent, then let-“
“Aren’t you, though?” Matsujun doesn’t move from his spot on the armrest of the couch, but some subtle change in his breathing, in the set of his eyes, tells Jin he’s being watched - and possibly judged too. “A little bird told me of the nature of your relationship with Yamashita.”
Jin only looks at Matsujun steadily, eyes hard and unwavering. “My fiancé is dead, Agent. As I’ve told you before, the only reason I put up with you assholes from the National Security Office is because I want the party responsible to be punished - even if it was my own childhood friend.”
“Huh.” Matsujun says, am eyebrow raised in amusement. “I knew you’re totally a ‘hos before bros’ type!”
Jin grits his teeth. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Pack your things. We’re flying to Akita Mountain.”
A pause. “…Akita?”
Matsujun stands up and straightening himself. “There’s been a report that Nishikido and Yamashita’s been in contact at a hot spring inn there.”
“Are you saying Nishikido’s joining Yamashita?” Jin’s brows furrow. He tries to remember the last time he saw Yamapi here with Kame, trying to remember anything that seemed out of place, or any sign of insanity, really. Because one had to be fucking insane to even want to team up with Nishikido ‘The Sadistic’ Ryo.
Matsujun shrugs and walks over to the door. “Or maybe Yamashita had a change of heart and decided to come back.”
Jin snorts. Yeah, he wishes. As if that stubborn ass could ever do anything halfway.
Matsujun turns at him expectantly. “You coming, detective?”
Jin glances at the mess that is his living room, at the open door of Kame’s room, at the memory of seeing Kame and Yamapi laughing together that first time. Then he recalls Kame’s frightened look last night, huddled in the corner with his hands raised around head, as if to shield himself from blow, from Jin; and then Nakamaru’s voice a moment later, tired and weary, as he covered Kame with an overcoat, This is exactly why Tatchan and I agreed not to tell you. Don’t even think of calling him before you got your shit together again.
He couldn’t even summon the energy to feel betrayed that his friends would choose the killer (Kame)’s side over his.
He looks back at Matsujun, sees that complicated quirk on the corner of his lips, like he’s smiling and smirking at the same time, and feels something tugging deep in his chest, warm and familiar and reassuring. He should feel alarmed that he has such a reaction to Matsujun, except. Except he’s still tired and confused and couldn’t even remember what he’s trying to do at all, and so he steps forward, takes Matsujun’s hand, and follows him out the door.
As if he had any choice.
-
(After the Journal incident, Jin stops taking the Valium. He doesn’t know when it begins, but these days, every time the name Kamenashi Kazuya is mentioned, the face that comes to mind is Kame’s and not Kazuya’s. It’s even worse when Kame decides to change his hairstyle, because to say the change is startling would be an understatement.
He knows Kame has the same willowy build as Kazuya, the same cat-like eyes, the same cheekbones structure. He just never realizes how much Kame looks like Kazuya until the kid lets go of his initial cut and starts to dye his hair with streaks of reddish brown, letting it fall around his shoulders in waves.
He looks so much like Kazuya that Jin would be surprised if anyone would mistake him for someone else.
Logic demands he makes nice with this Kazuya’s doppelganger. Romantic notion demands he falls in love with his dead-fiancé’s look-alike for his looks, only to realize later that he’s been in love with the real him all along.
He does none of these things.
Instead, he feels cold fury on the pit of his stomach, a horrible feeling that starts at the tip of his fingers only to spread to his entire body, making him a stranger in his own skin; making him want to bash Kame’s head in and demand what the hell does he think he’s doing, that is it not enough that he tries to adopt Kazuya’s name, Kazuya’s identity, even Kazuya’s mannerism through his personal journal, but now he actually tries to adopt his looks too?
But before he could act on his instinct, Matsujun accosts him along the way, accidentally (on purpose) dumps his glass on Jin’s shirt and basically makes himself a nuisance (and a distraction) until Jin could start thinking clearly again and stifle some unseemly urges.
That is the first time Jin starts thinking of him as Matsujun in his head instead of the usual ‘that pansy ass dick from their sister law force’.
Koki dubs it as a ‘crush’, but none listens to Koki after midnight, so his observation mostly falls on deaf ears and is lost on the sea of ‘things better left forgotten.’)
-
For the second time in his life, he’s letting someone else dying right in front of his eyes, unable to do anything to stop it from happening.
He keeps screaming to his fellow officer to bring in the paramedics now you incompetent idiots can’t you do anything right for once I swear I’m gonna fire your asses so fast you don’t even know where’s the paramedics GOD!
His shirt is stained with blood despite the Kevlar vest he’s wearing, and he can’t stop thinking what an idiot Yamapi is for staging a bomb explosion without even wearing a Kevlar vest. The rain still pouring down on them heavily, masking any other trace of liquid on their faces.
He’s aware he’s sprouting some nonsensical things to Yamapi, just to distract him and maybe keep the inevitable a little longer, since he can’t even keep track of what it is he’s saying at all, over the roar of please don’t leave me here alone you’re the only one left of my past oh God please don’t let go I can’t bear to lose you too not this time not for a second time oh my God please--
And then he hears the word ‘necklace’ and ‘Kame’ and ‘info’ from Yamapi’s mouth, being repeated over and over, and just like that he hears himself say, “You know Kame’s waiting for you, right? Don’t you even dare do this to him, you hear me? I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS TO HIM!”
But Yamapi keeps staring unseeingly at him, heartbeats slowing down, and Jin just can’t keep deluding himself that it isn’t tears running down his cheeks, competing with the harsh rain.
He should’ve stopped him from walking out that door; should’ve stopped him that first time-instead of catering to his own brokenheart at being left behind.
He really, really should’ve stopped him.
.
.
End.
Next one: Kame. :))
Fandom: JE
Pairing: Pikame
Rating: PG15
Warning: unbeta’ed, tenses change like WHOA, character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine, and no profit is made.
Summary: AU. Mafia verse. “Because even if I could turn back time, I would totally make the same choices all over again - if only so that I would still be here, at this moment in time, standing in front of you and speaking to you.”
Part One: Yamapi | Part Two: Jin | Part Three: Kame
.
Most of what I remember makes me sure
I should have stopped you from walking out the door
(You Could Be Happy - Snow Patrol)
.
This is how the world ends:
Imagine coming out of an elevator in your office, a cup of coffee in each hand; imagine the semi-darkness of your workplace, with only half the lights on, because it’s late in the night and nobody’s supposed to be there at all; imagine walking down the corridor slowly, your mind trying to form the perfect excuse for dropping in unannounced on your fiancé’s office, your heart thundering furiously at the prospect of finally seeing your fiancé again after months of separation;
imagine opening his office door only to see him in another person’s arms, with the business end of gun pressed against his temple.
Imagine stupidly opening your mouth, saying, “…Kazuya?” only to hear the most terrifying sound in your entire life, as the gun went off.
Imagine charging at the other person, only to have them break through the glass wall and jump from twelve story office.
Imagine rushing to your fiancé’s crumpled form on the floor, cradling his body to yours, eyes open, blood gushing freely from the wound on his head.
Imagine feeling his heartbeat slowing down to a stop.
There’s a deafening roar in your ears as you feel your whole world come crashing down.
-
(This is the things he wants to say to Yamapi but never does: I’m sorry. Let me help you. Don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. Take care of Toma. Take care of yourself.
And, most of all, we’re still friends, aren’t we?)
-
It was not Jin’s fault.
Really.
He’d been alert for the last sixty five hours tracking a suspected drug trafficker all around Tokyo while at the same time he also had to supervise his team’s cases procedures in the courthouse. He was dirty and still clad in the same clothes he wore three-days ago, with nothing but bad coffee and chocolate bars fueling his body for just as long. And to top it all, by the time he reported back to the Police Department HQ, Takki, the heartless boss that he was, forced him to attend the briefing about the latest threat of terrorism, with the assholes from the National Security Office as the speakers.
All things considered, he thought it was actually a miracle he only felt cranky at the moment, and not, say, murderous.
Although it all could change if that twat agent from he National Security Office didn’t shut up in the next minute.
“…therefore in the event blah blah blah over the general public, we should expect blah blah blah and blah blah blah the police blah blah blah…”
The next agent who took the floor, this lanky guy dressed in slick suit with a pop-star hairstyle (where does he think he is anyway? A music pop concert?), wasn’t much better. In fact, Jin thought he was probably the worst of them all.
“…blah blah blah if only the police took this kind of threat seriously from the beginning, this kind of accident would never happened; not to mention also the fact that apparently, every other thing that’s happening in the whole Police Department Headquarters is leaked out to the public - including some that are not exactly public consumption material. We strongly advise you to screen what you tell the media from now on. On that matter, the bombing case in Shibuya will be taken over by the National Security Office since-“
Seriously.
He was only a human; there was only so much he could take before he snapped.
“Oh fuck you!”
A stunned silence. Then the whole hall looked in his direction, and Jin realized he was the one who had shouted that out loud, and that he had slammed his desk and stood to do it. Huh.
“Pardon?” the pop-haired Agent said coolly.
Too late now. If he was going down, he was going down flaming. “I call you bullshit - that’s what. You elite pansyass could criticize us Police from your fancy Office all you like, but we all know out of every ten cases you took over from us, we ended up solving five by ourselves, while you only solved two and let the rest unsolved. And to fucking top it all, you took the credits for all of them without even giving us an inch!”
“Detective, I assure you-“ the Agent began, but Jin was far from done.
“Remember the drug cartel in Osaka two years ago? Or the clusterfuck that is Yamamoto case? Or the Nagoya bombing case? All the national newspapers say you guys took care of it.” Jin snorted. “They were right, if by ‘took care’ they meant arresting all the suspects in front of reporters after the police raid the place and captured them.”
“Listen, detective-“
“No, you listen. Why don’t you take that stick out of your asses and do your own fucking dirty job for once? Oh right, why should you, if you could just bully us into doing it for you and take the credits after?” he spat. “For all your talks about having better relationships with your sister law force, you sure do a fucking good job doing it, taking advantage of us and undermining our authority at every turn. Besides, if this is your version of ‘better’, I would hate to see your version of ‘bad’.”
Even graveyards had never been this silent. All of the people in the hall were staring at him wide-eyed, some even with open mouth. He could feel Koki’s grin from three aisles over, wide and excited, laced with admiration.
“Fuck this.” He claimed decisively, and heads out to the door, people giving him wide berth as he passed. He slammed the double door on his way out for good measure.
It was only much, much later, sitting on a closed toilet seat in the men’s room, a lit cig held firmly between his middle and forefinger, that Jin was hit with a sudden realization.
Holy shit, he just metaphorically stripped down the representative for the National Security Office in front of the whole Police Department. He’d be lucky if Takki didn’t literally shoot him on sight later.
Really, it was not Jin’s fault.
One of these days, someone was bound to believe it.
-
(Jin pays the bills for Kazuya’s cell phone long after he’s gone, so that he could hear his voice on the voicemail whenever he wants. Sometimes he leaves a long-ass message, talking incessantly until the timer runs out. Sometimes he just breathes into the phone, pretending he could still hear Kazuya’s heartbeat on the other end. But most of the time, he just says, “Come back to me. Come back to me. Come back to me, please.”)
-
When Jin was summoned to Takki’s office that day, he walked with the heavy steps of a man walking to his death. He didn’t doubt Takki was a fair man, but when it came to the National Security Office, all reasons kinda got out the windows. If he wasn’t gonna be dead, then at the very least he was gonna get sacked.
He couldn’t be more wrong.
“You want me to what?” Jin stared at his superior in disbelief.
“I said I want you to work together with Agent Matsumoto Jun here--” Takki gestured to the only other person on the room, the pop-star-haired pansy ass Agent from yesterday’s briefing - the one Jin had mouthed off to. “-to work on a highly confidential case. Imai Tsubasa-“ Jin had to repress a snort at that, “--from the National Security Office agreed that it’s time for us to stop competing with each other and join forces instead.”
“Takki-san, were you even aware of what happened in the briefing yesterday?” Jin tried to appeal. The Agent sneers at him just off Takki’s peripheral vision. Bastard.
“Perfectly, detective.” Takki replied calmly. “Hence this joint forces thing.”
“With all due respect sir-“
“Akanashi.” Takki leveled him with a look. Then he nodded to the pansy ass from their sister Office. “Agent.”
With a smile that was sharp enough to cut, eyes glinting dangerously, the Agent offered his hand to Jin. “Matsumoto Jun.” I’ll bring you down.
Jin took his hand, showing his own smile, baring way too many teeth to be called ‘friendly’. “Akanishi Jin.” Bring it on.
“Gee, I can see the beginning of a beautiful relationship.” Takki commented impassively, still in that calm tone of his.
Jin really couldn’t decide whether it was only sarcasm or genuine sentiment.
-
(Despite the fact that the temporary joint-forces thing is commandeered by both Jin and Matsujun, some things, Jin finds out later, he’s not privy to-simply because he’s in way too deep in a certain case: Kazuya’s murder case. He could always ask Matsujun’s teammates, but they’re all loyal as fuck to him, so of course he has to go back to his own teammates, except. Except they’re all acting clueless without even avoiding his eyes. Jin finds this unsettling.
“You’re hiding something from me.” Jin says.
“Yes.” Nakamaru says.
“Regarding Kazuya’s murder.” Jin says.
“Yes.” Nakamaru says.
“Tell me.” Jin demands.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense.” Jin says, and leaves, disgusted.)
-
A week into their ‘joint forces’, Matsujun brought him to the underground facility beneath the National Security Office central building. This was so spy-movie-esquee that Jin didn’t even bother to point out the cliché nature of it all. Down three levels, Matsujun gestured to him to a small room, where Sakurai Sho, Matsujun’s teammate (also the sanest one out of them all) is waiting.
Jin blinked.
In the other side of the glass window was a man (a boy?); he was shirtless and only clad in prison-standard trousers; his head bent down, so his long hair mostly covered his face; he was on his knees, with his hands suspended in the air by a pair of chain - though Jin noted there were pads (bandages?) on his wrists where the chains encircled them; thin as hell too - though whether it was from lack of food or if he was built that way, Jin couldn’t be sure. Scars and dried blood were lined all over his body - across his chest, near his hips, down his abdomen.
He raised an eyebrow at Matsujun, who was also watching the window. “I thought you guys were too high and mighty to resort to plebeian means such as torture…?”
“We never tortured him physically, if you were referring to those scars on his body.” Matsujun’s voice was even, bland, bored. “Those are already on his body when we captured him two weeks ago. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink, couldn’t function normally at all. Very violent, too. We had to feed him through IV line straight to his vein when he’s asleep like this, or risk major bodily harm.”
Jin looked at Sho, who watched them all impassively. “Who’s he?”
“We believe he’s an Eraser from The Syndicate we all know and love.” Sho frowned. “Or an ex-Eraser, as the case may be. The only reason we managed to detain him at all was because he was being chased left and right and his leg and his neck was shot. He would be dead by now if Nino wasn’t there patrolling. In fact, the report Nino admitted to your HQ,“ Sho looked right at Jin, “was that he was dead.”
A realization suddenly dawned on Jin. “Hence this joint forces thing.” Of course Takki wouldn’t waste an opportunity to gain a leverage against the National Security Office.
Sho nodded curtly.
Jin cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the observation glass window. “So what do you need me for? Obviously you’ve got everything squared away.”
Matsujun and Sho exchanged a glance.
“I thought Takki told you about that.” Matsujun said, looking amused and irritated at once. “I should’ve known. Clever bastard.”
Sho sent Matsujun a reprimanded look. Then he let out a long-suffering sigh and shuffled through the sack of folders in his arms. “The thing is, we believe he’s suffering from genuine amnesia. We also believe that the reason he’s been so hostile toward us despite having no memories of us is because when he first woke up, he was handcuffed to the table, in an interrogation room with its sparse glory.”
Jin snorted. You think?
“Takki and Imai-san agreed it’s in our best interest not to let him out of our sight, so we’ve assigned him a new identity.” Sho continues. “We’ll be sending him into a sedative-induced coma for a week before relocating him into a private hospital and reawaken him.”
“Still not seeing what I’m doing here.” Jin said impatiently.
Sho looked him right in the eye, and said, “He’s your new roommate.”
Jin looked at him blankly.
Sho sighed. “Read this.” He handed him a folder.
A moment later, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
-
(“Nakamaru’s hiding something regarding Kazuya’s case, and I need to know what it is.” Jin asks Ueda.
“No.” Ueda says. “You don’t.”
Jin narrows his eyes. “What, you’re in on this too?”
Ueda stares at him in that mildly creepy way of his. “If it’s any consolation, I was the one asking him not to tell you.”
It’s not.)
-
“Your roommate.” The thing repeats to himself. The tone is bland, flat, like testing new territory: careful and wary.
Jin shakes his head. He really needs to stop calling the killer-no, the person-in front of him the thing. After all, it-he, Jin reminds himself-he has a name.
Even if it was a borrowed one.
So give him a nickname, Koki said. Call him something that wouldn’t remind you of the partner you knew and loved. After all, it’s not his fault that he lost his memories. When Jin gave him an incredulous look, Koki added, well, you know what I mean.
Even as his eyes keep trained on Jin, his hands are trying out the restraints on his wrists-tugging and pulling lightly. “Is this really necessary?” he asks, not so much frustrated as curious.
Jin shrugs. “Just a precaution, mind. You thrashed so much the nurses had to refrain you from hurting yourself.” He lies. Considering the person on the bed never showed any sign for a flight upon waking up, the restraints are no longer necessary. The amnesia thing is genuine, apparently.
“What do you remember?” Jin asks.
The thing looks at him. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Something in the way he says it, in the tone he uses, makes Jin’s hackles rise. “Excuse me?”
“Look, the first thing you did after seeing me awake was introduce yourself as my roommate, using your full name. Do you see the odd thing here?”
Jin blinks.
Then, with a put-upon sigh, the kid continues, “If you were really my roommate, then you wouldn’t feel the need to introduce yourself, since obviously I would know you. For a moment I thought you’re a fraud, or a crazy person, but considering I’m the one strapped down to the bed despite the fact you look sicklier than I am, clearly something is wrong with me, and not you.”
For a few moments, Jin only stares at him. And then, “…a fraud?” Jin repeats stupidly. And then, “Wait, how do you know all these things anyway?”
“You can’t be one,” the person on the bed says, waving a hand dismissively. “A fraud needs to be comforting and confident. You, on the other hand, have been broadcasting your irritation and impatient quite loudly.” He pauses. “You also seem quite wary; although I don’t know you enough to decide whether it’s because of me, or any other reason.”
Strangely, it all seems… logical. “Or maybe I’m the kind of fraud who operates by appearing grumpy; have you ever thought of that?”
“Nah.” The kid rolls his eyes.
“Why the hell not?”
“Buddy, you stink.”
Jin abruptly stands up from his seat, sputtering. “Excuse me?”
“Your jacket is filthy, your shirt is stained, your jeans are ripped and dirty, your stubble clearly hasn’t been shaved in a month, and your hair looks like it hasn’t been washed for years.” The kid tilts his head slightly. “In short, you look so beyond homeless even the real homeless people would take pity on you.”
Jin resists the urge to slam his head onto the nearest wall. Or better yet, the kid’s head. The kid hasn’t even been up for five minutes and Jin already wants to strangle him.
But since he’s a responsible adult, he settles for the next best thing: he glares.
The kid is not impressed. Instead, he looks at Jin in a way that makes Jin feel as if he was staring him down through his nose-despite the fact the kid’s lying horizontal (and strapped!) on the bed and therefore wouldn’t be able to do so.
“For one amnesiac kid, you sure don’t act like it.” Jin mutters under his breath.
The kid blinks. “Amnesiac?” and then, “so that’s why I can’t remember my own name.”
Now Jin feels like kicking himself in the head. This is why Ueda never lets him anywhere near interrogation room. “You didn’t answer my question: how do you know all these things?”
The way the kid looks at him right now? Makes Jin feel like an idiot, and promptly the urge to strangle the kid reappears with a vengeance.
“Doesn’t everybody?” the kid says. “I mean, it’s common knowledge, after all.”
Jin just continues glaring at him.
The kid clears his throat. “So. What am I called anyway?”
“You.”
The kid regards him with a look that manages to convey both just how unimpressed he’s with Jin right now and how he wonders how such an idiot like Jin is let loose in this world.
Jin grips the papers in his hands hard to prevent himself from strangling the kid.
“So you told me. But see, I don’t think any parent is actually cruel enough to name their kid ‘You’. The kid will grow up with a complex.”
Jin stares at him.
The kid sighs. “Look, you obviously care enough to stay with me here. So why can’t you just tell me my name? I mean, I must have one, right?”
The kid’s voice falters at the last sentence, and Jin just knows it’s genuine. Koki and Nakamaru’s been giving him pep talks about this, but still he hesitates.
It’s still not too late to change it - to round up another plan, maybe. Something else that wouldn’t require him to give up Kazuya’s entire life to a fucking nameless, amnesiac sociopath.
But if there’s something Jin knows how to do, it’s to follow through; so he just smiles (grimaces) and says, “Kamenashi Kazuya.” He clears his throat, hoping the tightness in his throat would dissipate. “Your name’s Kamenashi Kazuya. Usually I just call you Kame, though.”
The grin it earns him is slow, warm, and infectious. “Cute.”
Jin blinks. For a second, he could swear he sees the shadow of Kazuya’s grin on the face of the sociopath (Kame, his name is Kame now). He tightens his grip on the papers.
Jin’s throat tightens again.
“Kamenashi, huh?” the kid says the name in this strange tone, like’s drawing it out, like he’s tasting it on his tongue. Like he’s trying to remember. But there’s no recognition in his face, and there wouldn’t be. For that alone, he feels a pang of pity for the kid. After all, he knows all about the power of names.
“Wow, having the combination of turtle and pear in my name, I must’ve gotten teased a lot in my formative years.” The kid is saying.
“Um.” Is Jin’s intelligent reply. The smile that surfaces on his face is rueful at best. “Yeah. You did.”
Right name, wrong place, wrong time, wrong person. If he tightens his grip on the papers any further, he’s going to tear them to pieces.
“So you and I are really roommates?”
Jin frowns. “Unfortunately.”
“Which means I’m a bum, too.” The kid sighs.
“A bu- Excuse me?”
“You mean you’re not?” the kid looks honestly hopeful Jin can’t decide if he’s just messing with him or not. “Oh thank God. Does that mean you just have a thing *against* hygiene then?”
Jin swears if he’s going to say ‘excuse me’ one more time, he’s so going to strangle the kid, consequences be damned. So what if he hasn’t found the time to take care of himself?
To hell with it.
“You know what? Let’s just keep the restraints a little longer, shall we? I think you’re still a bit hysterical.” He says maliciously as he saunters to the door, and--
“Oh my God. So you’re actually into bondage?”
---promptly walks straight into the doorframe.
-
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” Koki says.
Jin kicks him under the table. “So glad to know somebody’s taking pleasure in my misery.”
“For someone claiming to hate his ass, you sure looked like you’ve warmed up to him.” Ueda says mildly.
Nakamaru coughs.
Jin glares. “I did not.”
“The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.” Ueda smiles teasingly over the rim of his drink, safe in the knowledge that despite his height and weight advantage, Jin still has a hundred years before he could beat him in a fight.
Jin’s glare intensifies.
“So what did you end up calling him as?” Nakamaru says in a rush, ever the peacemaker.
“Kame.” Sullen, sullen, you’re Akanishi Jin’s new bestfriend.
“Cute.” Koki says, unerringly reminding Jin of Kame’s first comment upon hearing his nickname. He shakes his head. Koki raises an eyebrow. “I can’t believe we never called Kazuya that.”
A pause.
A coin could drop right now, and it will be the only thing that could be heard over the profound silence that suddenly settles over the table. Right. A fucking year has passed and yet still it feels like someone’s trying to squeeze the life out of him every time Kazuya is mentioned.
He really needs to get over it; after all, he’s going to live with the kid who inherits (steals) Kazuya’s name starting tomorrow.
“Has he inquired about the ring on his pinky?” Ueda asks.
“No, I don’t think he noticed it yet.” Jin discreetly tries to examine the matching ring on his right pinky. It still stings, even after a year has past, that the original owner of the other ring is no longer with them.
“You do remember what you’ve got to say when he does, though, don’t you?” Koki raises an eyebrow at him. His tone is light, but still Jin recognizes the concern for what it is.
“As if I could ever forget.” Jin mutters, and drinks his beer in a breath.
-
(Ever since then, Jin can’t sleep without seeing the scene where Kazuya got shot over and over. From those dreams (nightmares) alone, he gathers that the assailant was of the same body build and height as Kazuya, if a bit lankier. Same cat-like eyes, even. When Jin tells Ueda of what he remembers, the profiler immediately calls Nakamaru, who forces a bottle of Valium into Jin’s hand and threatens him with various bodily harms if he doesn’t take it with him before bed.
He stops dreaming afterwards.
“Stop torturing yourself; you know damn well if Kazuya’s here he wouldn’t want you to see him killed over and over again.” Nakamaru’s saying.
“But he’s not here.” Jin says, numb.
“Yes, but now you can devote your day time into finding the killer rather than wandering the office like a ghost.”
Jin concedes defeat with the sag of his shoulders.)
-
There’s a pair of rings on the table. Nondescript rings. Nondescript silver rings. Nondescript matching silver rings. Jin can’t stop staring incredulously at them.
“What the fuck.”
“Language.” Nakamaru chides.
“What the fuck.”Jin repeats, tone slightly higher.
“I swear I didn’t know anything about this!” Koki claims, his eyes looking anywhere but Jin.
“That’s why I’m asking you.” Jin growls, glaring at Nakamaru. “What the fuck, man?”
“Well, we believe a ring is more practical than a necklace or a bracelet, on the ground that one rarely replaces a ring as often as one replaces a necklace or a bracelet. Besides which, these rings are nondescript enough it wouldn’t clash with one’s clothing, and most importantly, one’s fashion sense.” Nakamaru explains reasonably, hands gesturing every which way excitedly.
“That’s not what I’m asking and you know it.” He hisses out, eyes still glaring. “Those are my engagement rings.”
“Well,” Nakamaru coughs. Koki inches closer to the door.
“It was my idea.” Ueda says out of thin air from Jin’s left. Jin turns to him, eyes narrow further. “I called it ‘moving on’.”
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Jin bites.
“Of course I’m smart. I also got my graduate degree in psychology, so if you think this is enough to rail me, think again.” Ueda’s voice is drifting somewhere between casual and soothing, slow, like he’s got all the time in the world. Like nothing could ruffle him.
Jin wants to punch him.
“Um.” Nakamaru clears his throat. “Look, Jin, Tatchan didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? Besides, I agreed to it because of the practical advantages of rings compared to other jewelry.”
Jin redirects his glare to Nakamaru’s direction.
“You’re being a child about all this and you know it.” Ueda says mildly, completely casual, leaning back on his heels with his hands in his lab coat pockets.
“Replace it.” Jin insists, looking at Nakamaru pleadingly. “Please.”
Nakamaru frowns, his hands fiddling with his lab coat collar. “We can’t. Takki said we’re gonna pull out the sedatives tonight, which means the kid’s gonna wake up the day after tomorrow at the latest. You know we’ve spent a week on this, Jin. There wouldn’t be enough time to make it out of something else.”
“I don’t care. Just-please, let it be anything else.” Jin’s close to begging by now.
“Technically speaking, they’re not your engagement rings; although I admit they’re modeled after your rings.” Ueda says, his tone completely calm. “Unless you could get Takki to change his mind regarding the kid’s awakening, there would be no remodeling.”
Right. As if anyone could ever make the Superintended Takizawa Hideaki change his mind.
Jin only glares.
-
(“How does it work anyway?” Jin asks.
Nakamaru glances at him. “The rings? They’re already programmed with your DNA specifics, so they won’t work on other people. Do not take it off for more than thirty seconds, if you do not want the whole Police Department bearing down on you.”
“Huh.”
“The rings function as tracking devices and alarm system and. Um.” Nakamaru clears his throat uncomfortably, “as stunner.”
“Stunner?”
“This one,” Nakamaru points to the slightly bigger ring, “is the controller. If you take it off for more than half a minute, then the wearer of the other ring,” he points to the smaller ring, “will get hit with enough electrical charge to bring down a horse. This is only a preventative measure though, so proceed with caution.” He pauses and looks at Jin with a frown. “Don’t abuse your authority.”
Jin doesn’t bother to hide his smile.)
-
“Jin,”
“Tatchan. What’s up?”
There’s a brief pause from the other line. And then, “Koki’s dead.”
“What?!”
“A slash wound across his stomach, deep, neat and precise;” Jin’s blood runs cold at the description. A professional, definitely. “Another body is found near him; three bullet wounds in his right shoulder, upper left chest, and left thigh. The bullets are definitely from Koki’s gun.”
Jin swallows a lump in his throat. “How…?”
“Check Kame for me, will you?”
Without wasting any second, he walks over to Kame’s room. He opens the door softly, peering into the room. There’s a considerable lump in the form of cocoon of blankets on the bed, dark reddish hair barely visible underneath. He closes the door and brings his phone back to his ear.
“Kame’s asleep in his room.”
An exhalation of breath, like a relieved sigh. “Nakamaru’s checking the ID of the other person on the database right now, but we suspect he might have been sent for Kame.”
Jin stiffens. “What do you mean?”
“Just yesterday Koki reported an unfamiliar man was seen near Kame, although it appeared the man didn’t make contact. He’d been shadowing Kame ever since, until he was found dead at the Ueno park at 10 pm last night.”
“I’ll be there in ten, okay?”
Another sigh. Although this time, it sounds tired. “No, I think we could handle it right now. Can you watch Kame for two or three days? Ask him not to leave the apartment?” another pause. “And don’t tell him anything.” Ueda adds.
“Koki’s also his friend, you know.” Jin says, frowning, and glances at Kame’s closed door.
“I’m aware of that. Just… for now, just let it be, okay?”
Jin tears his eyes away from Kame’s door and walks back to the living room. “Fine. But you owe me an explanation.”
-
(This is the thing Jin wishes to forget but never does:
Jin’s hand around Yamapi’s wrist, preventing him from leaving. “Don’t go.”
Yamapi’s eyes were wild and caged and despairing and everything Yamapi was not. “But Toma-“
“Don’t go,” Jin repeated. “Let’s find help, or - or another way, something.”
“You don’t understand,” Yamapi said, frustrated and angry.
“Of course I don’t understand! You two never told me anything anymore!” the unexpected bitterness in his voice took him by surprise, and in that second, Yamapi managed to wrench his wrist free, staggering backwards unsteadily, a flash of hurt in his eyes. Jin took a step forward, but Yamapi took two steps backwards, looking at him with such confusion and pain and something else that Jin didn’t dare to name. “Yamapi-“
“No.” Yamapi said, voice so small it might as well be a whisper, “no.” he was shaking his head, like it might actually lessened the confliction he had in his mind. “I can’t-I don’t want to leave him alone. I just-no.” then he lifted his eyes to meet Jin’s, pain written all over his face. “I’m-I’m sorry.”
Jin was hysterical enough to laugh. Sorry? For what? For leaving me here? For choosing one friend over the other? For cutting me off from your little circle? For being unable to stay? For what, dammit!
But it all boiled down to this: What does Toma have that I don’t, that makes you choose him over me?
“I’m sorry.” Yamapi repeated, stepping backward once more, before turning around and walking away from Jin-forever.
Jin has never quite forgiven him since.)
-
“You’re upset with me.” Jin observes on the dining room, ten minutes after Yamapi leaves them.
“Gee, I wonder why.” Kame says prissily, stuffing his mouth with such speed and vigor as has never been seen before.
Jin sighs, moving his chopsticks around in his miso soup bowl idly. “You could at least pretend you’re not trying to get away from me as fast as possible.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my chomping and biting around.” Then he emphasizes his words by doing exactly that: chew his food noisily with his mouth open, which is disgusting and so unlike the ever graceful Kame that Jin can’t help but laugh.
“Fine. I get the point.” Jin concedes, smiling ruefully. “You can stop sulking any second now.”
“I’m not sulking!” Kame barks sharply, glaring at Jin. “It’s just that, I’ve been planning this night for days, only for you to ruin in under five minutes! I still can’t believe you chose tonight of all nights to rain in my parade and come home early…” he continues to mutter under his breath.
Jin puts down his chopstick on his plate carefully, and watches Kame. Is he even aware Yamapi is a wanted man? Not only by one organization, but all three at that?
“He seems a little too old for you, don’t you think?”
Kame looks at him like he’s crazy. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of all the reasons you could come up, and you chose the lamest one? You told me yourself he was your childhood friend--which means he’s got to be the same age as you, or at least near your age! So what does that make you then?”
Jin narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know what I’m talking about! That’s the point! Oh screw this!” He throws his hands up in despair and stalks to his room, his whole body radiating irritation and annoyance.
“I just don’t think he’s right for you!” Jin shouts after him, “You don’t even know anything about him!”
“Screw you!” then he slams his bedroom door for good measure.
Jin sighs. Kids these days.
-
(Later, Jin would bring him a box of cake and ice cream as peace offering, and they would once again seated at the dining table, only with a much lighter atmosphere this time around.
Then, as Kame forks his cake delicately, Jin would ask, “So. How did you meet him anyway?”
Kame would stare at him, as if scrutinizing him, before settling for the truth: “He fell into a hole.”
Jin doesn’t stop laughing for hours.)
-
The thing is-the thing is, he knows what it’s like to lose someone who means the world to you, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Ever. Even a ruthless killer.
That’s why he tries to get Kame to stop meeting Yamapi - and he knows Kame’s still meeting Yamapi despite his warnings and his concerns.
It’s not even because he thinks Yamapi’s a bad guy-more like misguided, really. If there’s one thing Jin always know about his childhood friends, it’s that they always have their hearts in the right place, even if they do have the most absurd (and often misguided) ways in achieving it.
With the Police Department, The National Security Office, and The Syndicate themselves hot on his ass, Yamapi’s death is a novelty in its inevitability.
While Kame… So long as he stops seeing Yamapi, The Syndicate wouldn’t even notice their dead ex-Eraser is still alive.
He’s only trying to keep at least one of them alive. Is it so much to ask?
-
(“You’re excited.” Jin noted.
“Yes.” Kazuya smiled. “A month, and my undercover assignment would be over. Aside from that, I believe I have convinced one of the Erasers to turn to our side.”
“I don’t care about that.” Jin urges. “I just want you back here.”
“But Jin, I think you’d like him. He really resembles me, in certain ways.”
“Just… come back home safe, okay? That’s all I ask. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He lied.)
-
“Hello?”
“Jin, that’s you?”
“Hey, Yokoyama, something’s up?”
“You alone right now?”
“I could be.” Then he steps into the corridors, passing his cellphone to his left hand, and heads out for the emergency stairs, nodding in greeting at the fellow officers he passes by. “I am now.”
“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you about this since apparently this is some high-clearance shit right here, right where I’m not supposed to have access to, so if anyone asked, you didn’t hear it from me, you understand?”
“Go on.”
There’s the sound of rustle papers, and then Yokoyama continues, “Remember the DNA sample you got me from Kazuya’s crime scene? Right. Of course you do. Here’s the thing: we’ve got a match.”
Jin’s had to grip the wall beside him for support. After all this time… “What? How-I mean, who?”
“There’s still high chance this is only a coincidence. Or that the tests are foiled somehow, or. Or maybe the sample itself was contaminated from the start, so nothing is definitive yet and you shouldn’t take it for granted since there’s a probability this is a mistake and-“
“Yokoyama,” Jin interrupts him, “Who is it?”
A pause. Then a deep breath, and Yokoyama’s voice, when it comes, is uncharacteristically pained and not a little strained. “It’s…it’s Kame.”
Jin can only see red.
-
(The day before that fateful night, Jin sends Yamapi an email to his old email address:
Look, have you even considered that this all might have been an elaborate plan to get rid of you? You don’t seem very well-liked over there, and all the Police have over you are only circumstantial evidences. The National Security Office may have more, but I’m assured they don’t want you dead. So whatever it is you’re gonna do tomorrow, drop it, okay? You’re smart; you should’ve figured out it’s a trap. So. Don’t do it.
Bakanishi.)
-
“What are you doing here?” Jin asks, not bothering to open his eyes. He’s sitting sprawled on the floor with his head thrown back over the coach seat, a cold can of beer pressed over his temple.
Jin hears Matsujun’s even footsteps getting closer, not a second delay on his stride, like he doesn’t even notice the strewn of broken glasses and shredded things all over the floor.
“Nishikido Ryo’s in town.”
Jin’s head shoots up. “What?” then he winces as his migraine comes back with a vengeance. He presses the heels of his hands over his eyes to ride out the momentary dizziness. “When was this?”
“Three days ago. One of the cameras at the heart of Akihabara caught him.” Matsujun’s voice is clipped and rather irritated, so unlike his usual smooth and silky come hither tenor. Something’s clearly on his mind, and the fact the Special Agent doesn’t even try to cover it up - especially in front of Jin - is rather troubling in itself.
“You think he let himself get caught on purpose.” It’s not a question.
Matsujun sits at the armrest of the couch, his forefinger tapping his neatly-pressed pants-covered thigh restlessly. “That’s the thing: I know for sure he was caught off guard. There was a promotion event for the newly released game in front of one of the stores at the time, and at such crowded place, with over-excited freaks everywhere, even an intimidating force like him would find difficulty passing through-especially if he didn’t kill anybody in the process.” He drops a thin blue folder onto the couch, nearly hitting Jin’s head.
“You’re worried.” Again, it’s not a question. Jin opens the folder and tries to read the report and the accompanying report slowly, mindful of his migraine.
“Very.” Matsujun says, his tapping getting faster. “If even someone as invisible and careful as Nishikido Ryo got careless enough to get recorded on a cctv camera, something big must be going on - big enough to unnerve even the most cool-headed individual like Nishikido.” He pauses, taking a second to look around, before going back to Jin. “Where’s your charge?”
“He’s at Nakamaru’s.” At Matsujun’s raised eyebrow, Jin holds up a hand. “Leave it, okay?”
“Why, far be it for me to meddle in your domestic affair, but do you think this is the right time to pick a fight with him?”
“Seriously, leave it.” Jin glares.
Matsujun sighs. “I don’t think you understand me here. We need you to not fight with him, because we need him to trust you implicitly. With Uchi Hiroki’s missing, there’s a possibility Nishikido may try to contact Kamenashi. ”
“Wait. Uchi Hiroki’s missing?”
“None’s seen him for a week now. Also, did you know that Yamashita Tomohisa, our Top Priority case, is back in Tokyo right now?”
“What?”
“See, this is what happens when you keep deleting my emails without even opening them. Please stop doing so from now on. Besides, it hurts my feelings.”
Jin pointedly ignores Matsujun’s mock hurt expression. Carefully, he tries to stand up, only to stagger unsteadily and end up on the couch.
“Speaking of, you must have one hell of a fight, for your apartment to be in this…chaotic mess.” Something flickers behind Matsujun’s eyes. But Jin is too wrung out to deal with Matsujun’s shit right now, so he doesn’t even try.
“Can it, okay? I mean it.” Again, he presses his hands over his eyes, willing the pressure to lessen. What exactly did he drink after Kame left anyway?
Something hits him on his head. He cracks an eye open and brings the thing to his line of sight. It’s a small bottle of…something. Of dubious content. Highly dubious content, judging from the color.
Jin eyes it suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Our very own homemade hungover medicine slash anti-headache.” Matsujun examines his (perfectly manicured) nails absently. “A hundred percent guaranteed to clear your head.”
“Clear your head as in clear your head? Complete with the brain matter removal?” Jin states incredulously. “Look, it’s not that I don’t trust Aiba; It’s just that I really, really don’t trust his inventions.”
Matsujun waves a dismissing hand. “Oh don’t worry about it. Unlike those mechanical devices I gave you, we’ve tested this thing ourselves.”
“You gave me untested experiment devices?!”
Matsujun continues as if he didn’t hear him. “Your head would feel like it’s been flattened by a train for like, two minutes, but let me tell you, it’s better than feeling like shit all day.” He looks critically at Jin. “And I need you steady for now. There’s been suspicion that Yamashita’s still working for The Syndicate, despite all evidence - or lack there of - to the contrary.”
And now they’re back on the job. Not that they ever go anywhere else, but still. “You think Uchi’s disappearance and Nishikido and Yamashita’s reappearance are related somehow?”
“I know they’re related; I just haven’t figured out how.” Then Matsujun clears his throat. “You know what? Why don’t you take some of those,” he gestures to the bottle of pills in Jin’s hand, “so we could get going? Sho-chan’s debriefing your team - minus Nakamaru - as we speak.”
Right. Of course. He takes three pills out and swallows them dry. The effect is immediate; Jin makes it into the sink in the kitchen in record time, heaving onto it, but nothing comes; he feels like he’s on fire, like his blood is about to go up in smoke, like his brain is about to ooze out of his ears; two decades later, hands gripping the edge of the sink hard, dry-heaving still, he tries riding out the residual nausea, cursing Matsujun and his merry band of crazy teammates all the way.
Matsujun clears his throat again. “Also, someone’s been digging Kamenashi Kazuya’s record.” Jin’s head snaps at him lightning fast. “As in, your former partner, not your current charge.”
“What?”
“That was why we tried to find Uchi Hiroki in the first place.”
“Anything stood out?”
“So far, only one file is missing from your former partner’s reports.” Matsujun pauses, eyeing Jin in that weird way he sometimes does, one that Jin haven’t been able to interpret.
Jin’s eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me: it was the drug cartel report in Osaka from two years past.”
“Stop looking at me like that. Do try to remember that I wasn’t the one who killed your former partner.” Matsujun says dryly. Jin would’ve totally ignored his casual remark if not for the unexpected tightness at the end of Matsujun’s sentence.
Jin’s eyes narrow further. “Something on your mind, Agent?”
“Yes, actually.” Matsujun drags out the word ‘yes’, until it sounds like two syllables instead of one, until the ‘s’ sounds like a hiss. “Do I need to remove your from the case? Like, some time in the immediate future? Because if I do, then I’d like to know about it now.”
Jin’s lips thin, and he has to bite back the first thing that comes to mind upon hearing that. “If you’re insinuating that I’ve been compromised, Agent, then let-“
“Aren’t you, though?” Matsujun doesn’t move from his spot on the armrest of the couch, but some subtle change in his breathing, in the set of his eyes, tells Jin he’s being watched - and possibly judged too. “A little bird told me of the nature of your relationship with Yamashita.”
Jin only looks at Matsujun steadily, eyes hard and unwavering. “My fiancé is dead, Agent. As I’ve told you before, the only reason I put up with you assholes from the National Security Office is because I want the party responsible to be punished - even if it was my own childhood friend.”
“Huh.” Matsujun says, am eyebrow raised in amusement. “I knew you’re totally a ‘hos before bros’ type!”
Jin grits his teeth. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes. Pack your things. We’re flying to Akita Mountain.”
A pause. “…Akita?”
Matsujun stands up and straightening himself. “There’s been a report that Nishikido and Yamashita’s been in contact at a hot spring inn there.”
“Are you saying Nishikido’s joining Yamashita?” Jin’s brows furrow. He tries to remember the last time he saw Yamapi here with Kame, trying to remember anything that seemed out of place, or any sign of insanity, really. Because one had to be fucking insane to even want to team up with Nishikido ‘The Sadistic’ Ryo.
Matsujun shrugs and walks over to the door. “Or maybe Yamashita had a change of heart and decided to come back.”
Jin snorts. Yeah, he wishes. As if that stubborn ass could ever do anything halfway.
Matsujun turns at him expectantly. “You coming, detective?”
Jin glances at the mess that is his living room, at the open door of Kame’s room, at the memory of seeing Kame and Yamapi laughing together that first time. Then he recalls Kame’s frightened look last night, huddled in the corner with his hands raised around head, as if to shield himself from blow, from Jin; and then Nakamaru’s voice a moment later, tired and weary, as he covered Kame with an overcoat, This is exactly why Tatchan and I agreed not to tell you. Don’t even think of calling him before you got your shit together again.
He couldn’t even summon the energy to feel betrayed that his friends would choose the killer (Kame)’s side over his.
He looks back at Matsujun, sees that complicated quirk on the corner of his lips, like he’s smiling and smirking at the same time, and feels something tugging deep in his chest, warm and familiar and reassuring. He should feel alarmed that he has such a reaction to Matsujun, except. Except he’s still tired and confused and couldn’t even remember what he’s trying to do at all, and so he steps forward, takes Matsujun’s hand, and follows him out the door.
As if he had any choice.
-
(After the Journal incident, Jin stops taking the Valium. He doesn’t know when it begins, but these days, every time the name Kamenashi Kazuya is mentioned, the face that comes to mind is Kame’s and not Kazuya’s. It’s even worse when Kame decides to change his hairstyle, because to say the change is startling would be an understatement.
He knows Kame has the same willowy build as Kazuya, the same cat-like eyes, the same cheekbones structure. He just never realizes how much Kame looks like Kazuya until the kid lets go of his initial cut and starts to dye his hair with streaks of reddish brown, letting it fall around his shoulders in waves.
He looks so much like Kazuya that Jin would be surprised if anyone would mistake him for someone else.
Logic demands he makes nice with this Kazuya’s doppelganger. Romantic notion demands he falls in love with his dead-fiancé’s look-alike for his looks, only to realize later that he’s been in love with the real him all along.
He does none of these things.
Instead, he feels cold fury on the pit of his stomach, a horrible feeling that starts at the tip of his fingers only to spread to his entire body, making him a stranger in his own skin; making him want to bash Kame’s head in and demand what the hell does he think he’s doing, that is it not enough that he tries to adopt Kazuya’s name, Kazuya’s identity, even Kazuya’s mannerism through his personal journal, but now he actually tries to adopt his looks too?
But before he could act on his instinct, Matsujun accosts him along the way, accidentally (on purpose) dumps his glass on Jin’s shirt and basically makes himself a nuisance (and a distraction) until Jin could start thinking clearly again and stifle some unseemly urges.
That is the first time Jin starts thinking of him as Matsujun in his head instead of the usual ‘that pansy ass dick from their sister law force’.
Koki dubs it as a ‘crush’, but none listens to Koki after midnight, so his observation mostly falls on deaf ears and is lost on the sea of ‘things better left forgotten.’)
-
For the second time in his life, he’s letting someone else dying right in front of his eyes, unable to do anything to stop it from happening.
He keeps screaming to his fellow officer to bring in the paramedics now you incompetent idiots can’t you do anything right for once I swear I’m gonna fire your asses so fast you don’t even know where’s the paramedics GOD!
His shirt is stained with blood despite the Kevlar vest he’s wearing, and he can’t stop thinking what an idiot Yamapi is for staging a bomb explosion without even wearing a Kevlar vest. The rain still pouring down on them heavily, masking any other trace of liquid on their faces.
He’s aware he’s sprouting some nonsensical things to Yamapi, just to distract him and maybe keep the inevitable a little longer, since he can’t even keep track of what it is he’s saying at all, over the roar of please don’t leave me here alone you’re the only one left of my past oh God please don’t let go I can’t bear to lose you too not this time not for a second time oh my God please--
And then he hears the word ‘necklace’ and ‘Kame’ and ‘info’ from Yamapi’s mouth, being repeated over and over, and just like that he hears himself say, “You know Kame’s waiting for you, right? Don’t you even dare do this to him, you hear me? I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS TO HIM!”
But Yamapi keeps staring unseeingly at him, heartbeats slowing down, and Jin just can’t keep deluding himself that it isn’t tears running down his cheeks, competing with the harsh rain.
He should’ve stopped him from walking out that door; should’ve stopped him that first time-instead of catering to his own brokenheart at being left behind.
He really, really should’ve stopped him.
.
.
End.
Next one: Kame. :))