Iridescence PART 2
At first they are just dreams - images that come up while he sleeps - Kato wrapping his arms around him, Kato pushing him up against the wall in the shower, Kato saying his name, over and over. But then it changes. It happens everywhere, anywhere, at any time. Flashes that shine behind his eyes, filling his mind. Sometimes they come from nowhere , unrelated to what he’s doing at the time, but other times they seem to be triggered - while reading a book Taguchi gave him, Ryo remembers Kato telling him he reads weird books, and Ryo sees himself telling Kato he can read whatever he wants, but he’s teasing, and Kato’s smiling, and Ryo puts his book away to pull Kato close and kiss him on the mouth.
Little things, seemingly unimportant things, jab at him, poke and strike and nudge him, and he sees these scenes of himself doing things he doesn’t remember, being in completely foreign places, with nameless people.
Kato tells him anything can trigger a memory, any word, an object, a person, a place. Ryo still doesn’t know if what he’s seeing are really memories or just figments of his imagination, things his mind makes up to deal with the emptiness and loneliness he feels.
He still can’t find it in himself to tell Kato that he sees things about him. What if they really aren’t memories? What if it’s just his mind tricking him? The last thing he wants Kato to know is that he keeps seeing him everywhere. Kato is the only person - maybe even the only friend - he has and he doesn’t want to screw that up. Unless he can figure out for sure that he and Kato knew each other before his accident and were in some kind of relationship, for that matter, he plans to keep those thoughts to himself.
-
Everything but those images of him and Kato Ryo continues to write in his journal, his pen scraping along the thin paper, kanji that comes easily to him unlike everything else in the world. He thinks he should be glad he can still remember that - how to write, read, and speak. But sometimes he thinks he would gladly trade those in exchange for the life he once lived.
Kato reads the entries at their next session, Ryo watches his eyes move back and forth across the page, taking in the recent scenes Ryo has visualized - working as a taxi driver, recording the conversations of specific passengers from a five-star hotel, piloting an airplane alongside two familiar men - colleagues, he assumes, but never remembers - who are dressed as flight attendants, and something simple, walking along inside a large, busy building, almost like an agency, white walls, business suits, passing by a door that reads Intelligence.
“This is good,” Kato says when he finishes, his voice a little choked, like he’s unsure what to say, and Ryo notices he hasn’t yet met his eyes. “W-What do you think about all of these different scenes?”
Ryo shrugs. “I don’t know.” He looks down at the floor, examines the deep red color of the carpet. “It just confuses me. There are so many different things. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.”
“Maybe they are all real.”
“Is that possible?”
Kato walks around his desk, hands Ryo back his journal, and sits in his armchair across from the couch Ryo is occupying. “Anything is possible,” he replies, meeting Ryo’s eyes finally. “You just have to believe it is.”
-
Ryo stares out of the window in Kato’s office, the sun is high in the sky and crowds of people are walking along the streets in the city below. Ryo itches to go out, to see the world for himself. He knows he’s in Japan, in Tokyo, but he doesn’t remember any of it. The buildings, the streets, the people, the weather, the street lights, or stop signs, the pavement, or the crosswalks. He sees it all on the news when he watches it occasionally, and it feels familiar like most things do, but still like something from another world, another time, place, another life.
He’s wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Kato’s entered the room until he’s standing beside him, looking out through the glass. “What’re you doing?” he asks.
“I don’t remember any of that,” Ryo says, nodding at the city, his voice is quiet, subdued, and Kato turns to look at him.
He says nothing, though, and a few moments later moves to sit down in his usual chair. Ryo continues to stand at the window as Kato grabs his pencil and notepad, and Ryo hears him scribbling something down. Then he snaps the notepad shut and rejoins Ryo by the window. He glances outside, smiles, and turns to Ryo.
“What do you say we get out of here for awhile?” Kato asks lightly.
Ryo turns to him quickly, eyes widening in delight at the prospect. “Can we?”
Kato nods. “Why not?” he replies and starts walking towards the door. “Come on!”
Ryo blinks at him, a little dazed, then feels himself smile and rushes after him, excitement searing in his veins.
Kato takes him to a high-class restaurant for lunch. Ryo is practically pressed up against the window of Kato’s car the entire ride there, staring out the glass and taking in everything and anything his eyes can see. He used to be a part of this world, used to walk these streets, smell this air, feel this sun. He’s fascinated by it, this world he doesn’t remember, and more than ever, right now, aches for his memories to return. He can’t imagine living a life without knowing such a place existed.
“You could have gone out on your own, you know,” Kato tells him when they are seated at a small table for two in the spacious restaurant. Dimmed lights and white tablecloths, shiny, bright chandeliers hanging from the ceilings.
Ryo fiddles with his napkin, pulling the utensils out of it before positioning it across his lap. “I know,” he says. “But where would I have gone? What would I have done? It scares me as much as it intrigues me.”
Kato nods solemnly, flips through his menu. “You should have told me you wanted to go out, then. I would have taken you anywhere,” Kato says.
“Well, I know that now,” Ryo replies, offers him a grateful smile.
A waiter stops by and takes their order and Ryo watches as he walks away, weaving his way around tables full of people, his gaze falling onto another waiter on the other side of the restaurant, doing the same thing, a large circular tray resting in his hand. Ryo feels his heart race, his hands clenching in his lap, palms suddenly sweaty as he glances around frantically, a strange feeling overwhelming him.
He shuts his eyes and light flashes behind them; he sees himself, in a restaurant, just like this. High-class, top of the line, full of people. He’s a waiter, snaking his way between tables and chairs, serving glasses of wine and plates of pasta. He doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to be doing other then serving, but it doesn’t last long, and he goes home. Home, where he’s not alone. Home, where Kato’s waiting for him, soft smiles and touches and kisses and words.
“Ryo?” Kato’s voice, loud, and clear, and close, and Ryo snaps back to reality, gasps for breath. He meets Kato’s eyes the second he opens his own and his heart skips a beat, his mind replaying the scene he just remembered.
“What’s wrong?” Kato asks, concerned.
Ryo shakes his head quickly. “N-Nothing’s wrong. I just. I think I remembered something,” Ryo says quietly, putting a hand to his head, and when Kato’s eyes widen, Ryo tells him what he saw, leaving out the last scene, leaving out Kato himself.
“This is great news,” Kato says, beaming. “Coming here was a good idea.”
Ryo nods, slowly, swallows away the thickness in his throat, his heart finally slowing down. But his mind is still racing, still flashing bits and pieces of him as a waiter, him with Kato, over and over again. He doesn’t know what to think - this is a memory, right?
Kato seems to notice his sudden depression because he asks, “What’s wrong?”
Ryo bites his lip, twists his napkin in his hands, and after a few moments looks up to meet Kato’s eyes. “I know I should be happy that I’m remembering something, but, I wish it all made more sense. I’m just confused.”
“Well, you didn’t think remembering would be easy, did you?” Kato gives him a lopsided smile. “Don’t get yourself down, Ryo. You’ll remember. I know you will.”
“How do you know?” Ryo demands.
“I know,” Kato replies simply, and the way he looks at Ryo as he says it makes Ryo want to believe him, too.
-
“I think I may have done undercover work,” Ryo admits during a session.
Kato looks up from where he’s flipping through Ryo’s journal and asks, “What makes you say that?”
“I keep seeing myself in different situations, with different people, different jobs. They can’t all be the me from before, can they? I can’t have had that many jobs. I’m not that old. So, I must have had a reason to be in so many different situations.”
“Hence undercover work.”
Ryo nods slowly, gauges Kato’s reaction but his therapist gives nothing away. “A-Am I right?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Kato answers and hands back Ryo’s journal.
-
A few days later Kato takes him to a dojo. The sun is beating down on them as they walk through the small garden to the entrance. They have only just stepped into the genkan when a young man comes up to them and greets them with a bow, which they return. “I’m Tegoshi, it’s nice to meet you Nishikido-kun. Shige told me you were coming.”
“Tegoshi is one of the masters of this dojo,” Kato explains quickly while taking off his shoes, and Ryo pauses to give Tegoshi a long look up and down. He is a slim, pretty little thing with soft hair curling around his face and a smile that is nothing short of adorable.
“Shige,” Ryo leans in to whisper in Kato’s ear, “He looks like a girl.”
Kato glances at him, then he laughs. “Oh, you’re in trouble now.”
Ryo throws Kato a confused look, then turns back to Tegoshi who is looking back at him with a very sour expression.
“I can hear you, you know.” Then he smiles, a dangerous glint in his eyes that makes Ryo gulp at the possibility of impending death, “Let’s have a little sparring session, shall we?”
-
Ryo is surprised to find that he can hold his own quite well, pulling moves he has only seen on television - or maybe it’s his dreams. The problem is that Tegoshi seems to anticipate them all, and by the end of the afternoon Ryo is a very sore lump of human slumped on the training room floor.
“Come on, you old carcass,” Tegoshi nudges him with his foot.
“I don’t know why, but you seem to be suffering from the delusion that I will get up again.” Ryo pouts, sending Tegoshi his best glare, which doesn’t seem to faze him at all.
“You had enough, then?” Tegoshi smiles prettily, tilting his head slightly.
“You,” Ryo lifts his finger importantly - quite possibly the only part of his body he can move at the moment - “Are a murder bunny. And I am dying. You owe me flowers.”
An unknown face pops into Ryo’s vision. “You look like you could use some food.”
“Not now Massu, he’s dying.”
Massu’s face takes on a pensive expression, “I always feel that food is especially gratifying while dying.”
Tegoshi blinks. “And how many last meals have you had?”
“Um. Well, the last one was the last one.” Massu frowns in thought, “Does breakfast count?”
Another unknown face joins them, “Not if you just have coffee.”
Kato appears as well, squeezing in between Massu and the other person, “But we know that that’s not very likely, Pi.”
Tegoshi sighs, “Let’s just go eat.” Then he pokes Ryo with his foot once more for good measure.
-
“I hurt,” Ryo pouts, poking the takoyaki around his plate.
“I know,” Tegoshi smiles compassionlessly, “Eat your food.”
“Wow, what did you do to receive that treatment?” Pi asks, looking interested, shoving a whole takoyaki in his mouth in one go.
“He called him a girl,” Kato chirps cheerfully, and Ryo has to fight the blush that is inexplicably creeping up his face as Pi guffaws.
“Oh, nobody has called him that since- since...” He pauses, thinks. “You know, I can’t actually remember.”
“I can,” Koyama, who has also joined them, grins from across the table, “But I am not telling.”
“Sure you will,” Pi comments lightly, “After we get a couple beers in you.”
Massu laughs, and Tegoshi pitches in, “Oh Shige, I didn’t mean to drop your new radio transmitter in a tub of sulfuric acid. It just happened.”
“And I had thought it was Akanishi all along,” Kato smiles.
“That’s nothing on you though,” Koyama counters, his face slightly flushed, “Koyama,” he pretends to hiccough drunkenly, waving at Kato with his glass, “You are my best, best friend, let’s go canoeing.”
They all laugh as Kato turns an interesting color, glancing awkwardly at Ryo. It’s strange, but Ryo feels at home in the atmosphere, with these people. It feels familiar, like something he has done before, like déjà vu. He shifts slightly in his seat, trying to put less pressure on his bruised behind, and his knee accidentally brushes against Kato’s beneath the table. He glances at Kato apologetically, but Kato just smiles slightly at him, and a heartbeat later presses their knees together fully. Ryo isn’t sure what to think, so he doesn’t, just smiles and drinks up when Pi orders him another beer.
-
After the trip to the restaurant, Ryo has been more and more eager to set foot outside of the facility. He hates being confined inside one place; the only areas outside his room that he can go are Kato’s office and the common room on the same floor. Most of the other patients keep to themselves, so even if he finds himself in the common room, he does nothing but idly stare at the television, curled up in a corner of the old couch.
He doesn’t want to go out on his own - where would he go, anyway? He doesn’t remember the city; he doesn’t know what sorts of things are out there. He watches the news and he sees the streets and the people and the different kinds of shops but none of it rings a bell. They feel slightly familiar, places he once probably knew the name of, places he may have even visited, but he has no clue how to get there. He has no money, either. He has nothing, really, if the sparsity of his room is any indication. Nothing brought to him after his accident beside some clothes and shoes, and he can’t even be sure those are really his.
There’s nothing in here that will ever help him remember who he is, nothing that ties to his forgotten memories. Other than Kato, there is nothing remotely interesting about this facility he’s stuck in. Everything - the questions, the answers - they’re all outside, out there. And staying inside, protected, shielded, will never get him anywhere.
So he asks Kato if they can go again. Kato just eyes him carefully, looks thoughtful. Eventually, he asks, “Where do you want to go?”
Ryo hangs his head, turns away from the window in his room. He shrugs after a few moments, feeling Kato’s gaze on him. “I don’t know,” he answers finally.
“Maybe you should think about where you want to go before I take you out again,” Kato suggests.
Ryo nods glumly and turns back to look out of the window.
-
“I want to see where I lived,” Ryo tells Kato a few days later.
Kato looks up at him quickly, startled. “What?” he breathes.
“Where I lived,” Ryo repeats. “I want to go there.” He’s surprised by Kato’s sudden anxiety, but decides not to dwell on that now, instead fisting his hands at his sides with determination and continuing. “You said to think about where I wanted to go. Well. I want to go home. Or at least see what my home looked like. I can’t…I can’t even remember that.”
Kato’s eyes are dark, unfathomable, but Ryo is certain he sees sadness there, the same look he had when he’d told Ryo he could not give up. Ryo stares him down, hoping desperately inside that Kato consents, because Ryo hasn’t wanted to do anything more than this for a long time.
Eventually, Kato seems to crack, breaking eye contact with Ryo as he sighs and sinks back against his armchair. And Ryo notices for the first time how tired and worn-out he looks. He wonders what’s wrong, but keeps it to himself, waiting for Kato’s answer.
Kato meets his eyes again and gives a small nod. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll take you there.”
-
He’s pressed up against the window again on the drive to his apartment, staring with eyes wide as at the buildings and streets that they pass. Everything feels familiar yet looks foreign, and Ryo is starting to really hate it - knowing that he has probably been here, walked these streets, but yet doesn’t remember it is becoming old. He just wants to remember, wants to feel whole again. He grips the doorhandle tight between his fingers, and hopes that going home will help joggle his brain, even a little.
He doesn’t know why Kato knows where he lives or why he has a key, why he even nods at the doorman when they walk inside as if he knows him personally. He doesn’t ask, either, too eager and too excited, his mind buzzing as it tries to keep up while he glances everywhere and anywhere. It’s a short ride up the elevator then down a dimly lit hall, Ryo counting off the numbers of the apartments as he passes, finally stopping at 1023. Even the number, gold and shiny, on the white door feels familiar, and Kato hands him the key, nods at him like it should be Ryo’s right to open the door and step inside.
So he does, his hand shaking a little as he turns the lock, heart pounding in his ear, because if this didn’t work, if he couldn’t remember anything after coming home, Ryo wasn’t sure what else he could do. So he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then lets go. The door softly hits the inside wall and Ryo opens his eyes. It all definitely feels familiar - but so do a lot of things, so Ryo doesn’t get too excited right away - and instead he slips out his shoes, and walks out of the genkan.
The walls are white, he sees the kitchen off to the left, but heads right instead, into the open sitting room. A couch against one wall, a television in the opposite corner, a glass coffee table in the center. A tall shelf is next to the television, filled to the brim with books of varying sizes along with DVDs and CDs.
He stands in the middle of the room, and unlike everything else he’s experienced in the past four months, being here, in his place, feels the most familiar out of all of it. He glances around and around, taking it all in, and it’s almost like he’s been hit by a bus, the way the images come rushing at him, filling his mind. He doesn’t know what to take in first, spasms of visions, of memories, flooding him all at once.
Here, at the apartment, sitting on that couch, Kato laying beside him, his head in Ryo’s lap.
Kato pulling book after book off the shelf, a pencil on his ear, glasses pushed up on his head as he rubs his eyes and Ryo comes from the kitchen, hands him coffee.
Ryo lying on his stomach upon the couch, Kato straddling his hips and carefully pressing gauze along his bare back, Ryo wincing in pain every once in awhile. “You have to be more careful,” Kato is saying quietly, a worried look on his face.
In the kitchen, Kato is making breakfast, cracking open an egg over a pan, when Ryo joins him, yawning, and Kato presses a kiss against the corner of his mouth, welcomes him with a sunny “Good morning.”
Ryo feels like he’s been caught in a storm, a whirlwind of memories enveloping him, lighting up inside of him one after the other. Every one of them takes place in the apartment, with him, and with Kato, just the two of them, and no one else. Ryo’s not sure what to think of that, as he starts to feel a bit dizzy, closing his eyes, trying to block out the flow of recollections.
“R-Ryo?” Kato’s voice reaches his ears and immediately snaps him back to reality. Kato meets his gaze, frowning in worry, as he asks, “Are you okay?”
Ryo slowly nods, not trusting his voice yet after what he’d just seen - what he’d just remembered.
“Do you…Do you remember anything?” Kato ventures quietly, a glimmer of hope in his voice that Ryo doesn’t miss.
“I don’t know,” Ryo says. “It might be a memory.” He pauses, looks right at Kato. “Could you be in my memories?” Kato doesn’t say anything, just watches Ryo with a curious expression on his face, so Ryo continues. “Maybe you were standing over there,” he points to the shelf, “and I was over here,” gesturing towards the couch. “You were looking for a book, and I was…I was playing the guitar.”
Ryo looks at Kato, tries to read his expression, but Kato’s face is blank, giving nothing away. He presses on. “And you couldn’t find what you were looking for,” he says, stepping a bit closer to Kato now, not letting his gaze waver from the younger man’s face. “And I noticed it was just there, sticking out from under the couch, under all of my sheets of music.”
“And then what happened?” Kato questions, finally breaking that mask, and letting Ryo see the anticipation, the longing in his eyes and hear it in his voice, and moves closer to Ryo as well.
“Then, you grumbled with irritation, gathering up my stuff into a pile, muttering about me being a slob.” Ryo’s lips quirk at the corner and even Kato lets out a little laugh.
“So what did you do?” Kato says. “You didn’t just take that, did you?”
“Of course not,” Ryo replies easily, still smiling as he steps even closer. “So I put down my guitar and said-”
Kato closes the space between them, so close Ryo can practically count his eyelashes, and breathes against his skin, “And said, shut up, before you-”
“Did this,” Ryo responds before pressing his mouth against Kato’s.
And this is the most natural thing in the world, Ryo thinks. This feels right, this feels good, this feels complete.
His arms find their way around Kato’s back, as Kato does the same, only gripping onto the back of Ryo’s shirt with such a ferocity Ryo thinks he might be able to tear right through the fabric. It makes him smile into the kiss though, and deepen it, remembering the way Kato tastes, the shape of his mouth, the smoothness of his lips.
When Ryo starts to pull away, Kato doesn’t let him, clutching onto him tightly and relentlessly. Ryo presses his forehead against Kato’s, murmurs soothing words, calms him down, calms himself down, suddenly aware of how his heart seems eager to beat straight out of his chest. He threads his fingers through Kato’s short hair, and after a few more minutes, Kato pulls back, his grip relaxing just a bit.
“Shige,” Ryo says quietly, coaxing the younger man to look at him, and when he does, he seems to finally let go.
“Ryo,” he whispers as he tries hard not to cry. “Oh my god, Ryo. I-I’ve missed you, so much.” He takes a shaky breath, and pulls him close again. “I’ve missed you so much.”
-
They are tangled under the covers, falling gradually from that indescribable high. Ryo is certain he’s never felt better than he does at that moment, pressing soft, lingering kisses along Kato’s jaw, cheek, hairline, down his throat and along his shoulder. Kato with his eyes closed in bliss, a small smile at his lips, and reaching out to clasp his hand with Ryo’s, intertwining their fingers, touching palms.
“You okay?” Ryo asks him, and Kato opens his eyes, grins brightly and blushes.
“Never better,” he answers. “Are you?”
Ryo nods, traces a finger along Kato’s skin, watches as Kato’s chest rises and falls. Kato frowns, noticing the look in Ryo’s eyes, and leans up on his elbows, Ryo’s fingers falling off, and says, “Ryo?”
Ryo looks up at him, smiles and shakes his head in response to the worry in Kato’s eyes. “I’m fine,” he insists. “Just a little confused, still. Trying to piece together the rest of the puzzle.”
Kato nods, falls back against the pillows. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says.
“We worked together,” Ryo says eventually. “Well, not together, but. In the same company.”
When Kato nods again, Ryo continues. “I was a field agent. I really did do undercover work.”
Kato smiles. “You did.”
“What did you think when I mentioned that to you the first time?” he asks with a grin.
“I wanted to jump up and down with joy,” Kato replies. “It was hard, keeping it in.”
Ryo nods solemnly but says nothing, and Kato quickly nudges him to keep going. “You worked in intelligence,” he says. “And, Pi, and Massu, Tegoshi, Koyama…they all worked at the company, too.”
Kato nods again. “They were happy to see you, that day,” he says. “And Koyama, that day at the facility. He told me he was trying hard not to cry when he saw you playing.”
Ryo laughs and shifts to lay on his stomach, crosses his arms over Kato’s chest, and drops his chin upon them. He glances at Kato thoughtfully, then says, “I taught him, didn’t I? How to play?”
“You did,” Kato affirms.
“They…They felt comfortable. And familiar,” Ryo says. “Like I knew them before, had seen them before, been with them before.” Ryo smiles. “We were all friends.”
Kato smiles and nods again, reaches out and swipes a strand of hair from Ryo’s face, his fingers lingering along Ryo’s cheek. His eyes are soft, warm, as they move along Ryo’s features, and Ryo notices the relief, the happiness in them, leans in to kiss him once, gently.
“The accident,” he says when he pulls back and feels Kato stiffen a little as he recalls the events.
“Do you remember?” Kato asks and Ryo nods, slowly.
“I fell,” he replies.
“God, Ryo,” Kato breathes. “You gave me a heart attack, that day.” He shakes his head, a wry smile at his lips, then adds, “You, a top agent who has gone on some of the most dangerous missions imaginable, and what do you do? You fall down some stairs.”
His tone is light, but Ryo sees the fright behind his eyes. He tightens his fingers against Kato’s, pulls up his hand and kisses the back. “It’s okay, Shige,” Ryo says.
“No, it’s not,” Kato replies. “You fell down the stairs. You almost died, Ryo.” He closes his eyes, forcing himself to calm down, lets out a deep breath and opens them again. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry,” Ryo says, and Kato laughs at that, the crystal-clear laugh Ryo remembers so vividly now, and pokes him in the side, grinning harder when Ryo yelps and squirms away.
“You should be,” Kato says, teasing, and Ryo smiles. “Do you have anything else you’re wondering about?”
“Why were you at the facility? As a therapist, no less. And Taguchi ? What the hell was he doing there?”
Kato laughs again. “We had to make sure if you did remember something, you didn’t go blabbing about it to the wrong sorts of people,” he explains. “We couldn’t risk you remembering top-secret missions and telling a random stranger.”
“So you pretended to be my therapist so that I’d tell you what memories I could recall?” Ryo says and Kato nods.
“It was hard, you know. To not just blurt out the truth,” Kato murmurs.
Ryo turns onto his side, pulls Kato close against him, fingers in his hair, breath against his neck. Kato slides his hands around Ryo’s back, holds him tight like he’s done all evening since Ryo’s memories returned, as if reminding himself that this is real, that this is happening. He pulls back first, takes Ryo’s face between his hands and kisses him soundly. It’s sweet and slow and soft, this kiss, and neither seems eager to let it end, pouring everything and more into this perfect, perfect moment.
“There are so many things I never got to say,” Kato tells him sometime later, when they’re still pressed against each other, warmth seeping through their veins.
Ryo tilts his head, noses the soft spot behind Kato’s ear. “I’m here now,” he says.
“I love you,” Kato breathes.
Ryo grins. “I already knew that.”
“I’m glad you’re back,” Kato says.
“I knew that, too,” Ryo replies, eyes bright with mischief when Kato pulls back enough to look at him.
“Fine,” Kato says. “Maybe you should tell me something, then.”
Ryo laughs brightly and pushes Kato onto his back, straddles his hips and leans down to catch his lips in another searing kiss. When he pulls back he says, “I’m sorry for taking so long.”