[fic] A World of Lies and Love - Chapter 3 {3/7}
Title: A World of Lies and Love
Pairing: RyoKame (Nishikido Ryo x Kamenashi Kazuya)
Words: 52 106
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Their biggest strength was that they could hurt each other like no one else could, but they could also love each other like no one else could
Previous parts:
Chapter 1 |
Chater 2 : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 |
Chapter 3 : part 1 | part 2 |
--
Kazuya sat in the middle of the room, eyes turned downward to the picture of a younger Ryo - as well as a younger Uchi. Even without being allowed outside, Kazuya could tell that there was something going on. From the nearly elated look on the face of the one who brought his lunch in earlier, Kazuya could guess at what it was. Something had happened - something good - with the search for Kazuya’s foster family.
Ryo’s lead had been right then.
Kazuya wondered what would happen now, and as he did, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what he had found out in the last few days about Ryo; was he over thinking everything?
But no, he couldn’t be the only one thinking like this right?
Whoever had sent that video to him, it had to have come from within the household, he had realized. He had already gotten enough evidence to know that Ryo had blocked off any incoming emails from IP addresses that weren’t approved; as whoever this was didn’t want Ryo to know about the video or the email, Ryo probably hadn’t approved him, and Kazuya had a feeling that just like everything else, it seemed, when it came to Kazuya, Ryo didn’t allow anyone else to interfere with what he did with Kazuya.
So, the only explanation Kazuya could come up with was that the email had been sent to him from inside this building. Because it shared the same IP address, it would make it through the block.
But who would do that? And for what reason?
From the sounds of the sender of the email, it was almost like he wanted Kazuya to rethink what he knew about Ryo, knowing what conclusion Kazuya would come to when he heard that recording.
The recording was further proof that it was from someone in the building; who else would have had enough access to apparently place recording devices to be able to capture that conversation?
But why would someone want to make him rethink Ryo’s actions, going over each and every one in his mind, in light of what he heard? It was like there was some annoying, extremely irritating, puzzle that nagged at Kazuya’s mind, nearly complete, but still with a few missing pieces. And maybe, a few pieces he had mistakenly put in the puzzle that didn’t belong in it.
One sure thing came from all this…
There was someone trying to misdirect him, leading him to the wrong conclusions. The question was whether it was Ryo, though he didn’t dare hope too much for that, or the one who had sent that email.
Kazuya ran his thumb over the younger Ryo in the picture he held, turning the picture over for a moment when he felt something that didn’t feel like the smooth back of the photo. He squinted at it before inhaling sharply in surprise; he hadn’t noticed that before!
There, on the back, in faded yellow marker that practically blended in with the faded back of the photo, was writing that could barely be made out. Kazuya quickly headed over to the desk where he turned on the light, peering at the photo in earnest curiosity.
It was still nearly illegible, the marker mostly faded and blending in with the back of the photo, but he could still kind of make out the childish writing.
He stared at it for a little longer, lips turning up into a half-smile, a sad one as well. With a sigh, he soon let himself fall backwards onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling, a contemplative look on his face.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, a few minutes or a few hours, but he was only brought out of his thoughts by the door opening and familiar footsteps sounding to stop next to him.
“Ryo,” he greeted even before he looked at who it was; he recognized Ryo’s walk, the strength of his footsteps.
He sat up to properly greet the older man, and he saw in Ryo an almost triumphant expression, “The lead led me to your guardian.” He said bluntly.
Kazuya nodded in understanding, “I’d guessed…” he said quietly, “Even from here, I can tell there’s something going on out there.” He added.
But it was still different to hear it from Ryo himself; before, it was just a guess that had little chance of being wrong; now, it was confirmed, the truth, and Kazuya couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. What would happen now?
Ryo looked at him piercingly for a moment, before he nodded, “It’s your foster father, by the way,” he added, “I’ve interrogated him a bit to get the location of the other two, or any other useful information, or even a confession - though that’s unneeded. Running away was confession enough.”
Kazuya could only nod in response, a bit numbly; he would have much preferred it to be Natsuki or his foster mother to be honest, but he also knew that his foster father was possibly the most useful out of all of them. He had the potential to be a goldmine of information, and he would have been the hardest to track down.
“He’s not cooperating, naturally,” Ryo spoke again, not taking his eyes off Kazuya now, “If he continues not to cooperate, I’ll bring you to see him. Perhaps a familiar face will make him let something slip.”
Kazuya swallowed at the prospect, but nodded; he had known that would happen eventually. He could get a reaction out of his foster family, because he knew them well, and because he was familiar to them, they were more likely to let something slip.
But…
“Can I…” Kazuya started, swallowing heavily.
Ryo, who had stayed where he was, still staring at Kazuya intently, raised an eyebrow.
“Can I…maybe see Uchi Hiroki again?” he asked in a hopeful, but soft, tone.
Ryo’s face almost immediately morphed into an expression of surprise, then pain at the reminder of Uchi, and then confused irritation, before settling for an expression of suspicious anger, “Uchi…” he repeated in a blank tone.
“I want to see him, before I see my foster father again,” Kazuya hurried to explain, “To remind myself of what a monster he is; I don’t want to give into him again, like I always used to do. I want to remind myself that they’ve done something horrible and I shouldn’t feel sympathy for him…please…” he added the last word in an even softer tone.
Ryo stared at him for a long moment, before he scowled, “Tomorrow, then.” He said finally, not denying or approving Kazuya’s request, but Kazuya knew from the lack of blatant rejection, that Ryo was in his own way saying yes.
“Thank you,” Kazuya said quietly, contemplatively, as Ryo left.
Ryo paused for a moment, before quickly continuing out the door.
Kazuya smiled sadly as he looked at the closed door; it certainly wouldn’t be possible that Ryo was the one misleading him, rather than the mysterious sender of that email. Ryo certainly had no reason to mislead him; what he knew about Ryo was true, what he thought about Ryo was true. There was no way Ryo was misdirecting and misleading Kazuya into thinking that the older man had no feelings whatsoever for him; there was no misdirecting because it was true, no matter how much that little hope in his chest nagged at him.
Kazuya took the photo out of his pocket, turning it over to the backside.
Ryo-chan, I’ll never let anyone make you sad again!
He wondered, if - no, when - Uchi woke up, would he end up hating Kazuya, not only for what Natsuki did, but because he had done to Ryo the one thing Uchi had promised not to let anyone ever do again.
He turned the photo over and smiled sadly at the two best friends in the photo.
His family had nearly destroyed the body of one, and attacked and injured the heart of the other.
Kazuya’s own heart felt as broken as what had become of the pair in the picture.
* * *
The room was nearly silent, filled with the sound of the monitors around the bed; the dark haired man on the bed, encased tightly by the white sheets, was unmoving, unresponsive, and it was only the strangely reassuring sound of the monitors that indicated that he was still alive, still breathing.
Kazuya took a step forward, holding his breath for what seemed like the longest time; maybe it was because he hadn’t seen him since that first time, or maybe it was the memory of the younger Uchi - grinning like there was nothing to lose - in the picture he had, but Uchi almost seemed even frailer than he had the first time. Kazuya could only stare, open-mouthed, at the unresponsive man.
He was standing behind Ryo, watching as the older man stood by Uchi’s bed for a long moment, his back to Kazuya, but Kazuya could see the stiffening of his body, even as he probably tried to hide the pain that came from seeing his best friend like this.
It was after a moment that Ryo turned back around and, with a pointed scowl and a searching look, he said roughly, “You have ten minutes, then we’re going.”
Kazuya nodded in understanding; honestly, ten minutes was much more than he expected.
He stood by Uchi’s bed, just staring down at the younger man, before he let out a wounded sigh; even as he stood here now, looking at the one person Ryo had done all this for, he could feel his heart recoil in indignant fury at what his foster family had done.
“Can…can he hear me?” Kazuya wondered aloud, hesitantly.
There was a pause, and Kazuya didn’t dare turn around to look at Ryo; he didn’t want to see what emotion would be etched on Ryo’s face at his question.
“The doctors say he might be able to,” Ryo said in a cold tone, that had traces of pure sadness laced into it - traces that Ryo couldn’t hide, “But it’s impossible to know whether he really hears or not.”
“Oh…” was all Kazuya could say. He swallowed, “Is it…is he permanently like this?” he asked, trying not to let his voice crack; this was a horrible fate to have, trapped in a bed, and even worse if it was true that Uchi could hear them, because that meant he knew he was trapped.
Ryo’s voice was like ice when he answered, “I’d hope not,” he said with a snap in his voice. Then, there was another long silence before he replied scathingly, “The doctor said that his body shut down on him to deal with the trauma of his injuries, one of the only reasons he was able to survive those. It’s highly hopeful that, now that his injuries are fully healed, he’ll come out of it on his own.”
Kazuya turned to Ryo, and this time, he couldn’t hide the sadness he felt.
Ryo must have seen it, and maybe Ryo wasn’t sure how to react to him, someone who was guilty by association, feeling pain over what had happened to his best friend, or maybe Ryo just felt like telling him, but he suddenly added:
“It’s already started to happen, in little bits,” Ryo said, and though his expression showed no change, his eyes couldn’t hide all his emotions completely, “Every so often, more lately than ever, the monitors show activity, and at times he’ll move a little, just a twitch of his fingers, but it’s more than enough of a sign.”
Kazuya nodded, feeling sudden relief in his heart; at least Uchi was beginning to recover, at least Ryo seemed to have hope that Uchi would recover - and soon - from this.
He paused, knowing his time was nearly up, and placed a hand on Uchi’s pale one for a moment; as he did, almost as if on cue, Uchi’s hand twitched in response a few moment later, and Kazuya’s eyes widened.
“He moved…” he whispered in surprise.
Ryo was suddenly beside him, and he had a hand on Uchi’s arm; there was an overwhelming sad, and proud, look on his face that he couldn’t seem to hide - or perhaps didn’t even try to.
“I told you he moves every now and then,” Ryo said with a snap, but Kazuya noticed it seemed to have less ire in it; he could tell that Ryo didn’t seem to have it in him right now to be hateful toward him, too consumed by the pain of seeing Uchi like this, just like Kazuya was in his own way.
Ryo said softly to the unresponsive man, “You’ll wake soon, I know…you’re fighting so hard to wake up again.”
Silence descended upon them, and a few moments later, Ryo tore himself away, “Ten minutes is more than up; let’s go.” He said roughly.
Kazuya could only nod and begin to follow Ryo; before he did though, he turned back to Uchi one more time, taking in the frail, unresponsive man, and committing that image to memory - he would need that image to keep himself strong against his foster father.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly to Uchi. Then he added as an afterthought, before he left the man’s bedside, “And thank you.”
* * *
Kazuya’s foster father had always been a source of both fear and coveted acceptance for him; he held the acceptance that Kazuya wanted so much while he had been growing up, but it was always something that came at a price. He would get that acceptance if he did well in school, or if he did the best in something else; it was never unconditional acceptance. As he grew older, and was able to compare his friends’ parents to his guardians, he had slowly begun to accept that perhaps, he would never get their acceptance in that way - but it didn’t stop him from trying.
Right now, as he looked through the crack in the doorway at his foster father, sitting in a dank, dark, little room, unable to do anything but stare blankly down at the table in front of him, Kazuya could only wonder what he had always been so afraid of, and why he had ever wanted acceptance from this man.
He was unshaven, looked like he hadn’t showered for maybe two days, and he had lost a lot of weight - he looked like a broken shadow of the man that had become Kazuya’s father figure as he grew up.
This was the man who he had feared for so long?
This was the man whom Kazuya had always needed to gather up all his courage to stand up to?
Kazuya could only stare as he stood there; as the door swung open and he could see more of the man and the room, Kazuya was left speechless. It was like taking a deep breath and going after a monster in a closet, only to find out that the monster was nothing more than your abandoned pile of toys.
That was how he looked with his head bowed, looking as though he was drifting off, at least.
“I’ve brought someone to see you,” Ryo announced in a cold sneer, causing the nearly frail looking man to snap his head up, “Do you even recognize him, Kuroda?”
Kazuya stood behind Ryo, watching his foster father with wary eyes, but also wondering why he was losing that wariness - did the man seem that unthreatening to him now?
“Of course I recognize the ungrateful brat,” Kuroda hissed out in a voice that he didn’t seem capable of - it was venomous, full of spite and anger.
Kazuya flinched, his wariness going back up again; he didn’t need to feel sorry for this man, he shouldn’t feel sorry for this man. No matter if he looked like this now, he had done something terrible, and he wasn’t going to change for any reason.
“It’s been a while,” he forced himself to say calmly, watching Kuroda with a sharp look. He wasn’t going to let his guard down, he refused to. Long gone were the days when Kazuya had to fear him, when Kazuya could do nothing but fear him.
“Kamenashi is going to sit with us for your questioning,” Ryo said blandly, “I’m sure you don’t mind.” He said sarcastically; it was clear that even if he did mind, it wouldn’t matter to Ryo anyways.
The remark seemed to make Kuroda wilt a little, and his expression suddenly turned pathetic; Kazuya watched all this warily as he took a seat next to Ryo across from his foster father. He knew firsthand how good Kuroda was at manipulating emotions, and he wouldn’t put it past him to be able to manipulate his own.
“I see you’re doing well for yourself,” Kuroda suddenly remarked, staring at Kazuya, “While the rest of your family has been trying to survive, I see you’ve managed to turn the situation to your favour.” He commented almost idly, but Kazuya could see the flash of righteous anger in his eyes.
Kazuya could feel Ryo move next to him, but he didn’t let his guardian get to him, retorting with a, “Considering it’s your fault I’m in this ‘situation’ in the first place?”
Kuroda’s eyes flashed, “And got some nerve too.”
“It comes from realizing what you are.” Kazuya felt his ire build; his foster father dared to be angry at him when it was because of Kuroda’s actions that all of this even happened?
His foster father opened his mouth to say something, but Kazuya quickly cut him off, “I think Nishikido-san has some questions for you, Kuroda.” He said, forcing the strange sentence out. It was strange because he had never referred to his foster father that way before; he had always been incredibly polite and respectful toward his foster father, but now, he was being more polite in referring to Ryo than he was Kuroda, which was bound to anger the man.
Taking advantage of the cue to change the subject, Ryo spoke, “That’s right. You have nowhere to go, Kuroda, which has been made clear already. You may as well answer a few questions, or your stay here will be severely uncomfortable.”
“What, not going to offer me a deal like you’ve obviously done to the ungrateful brat there?”
Kazuya startled, but kept his expression cool and neutral; he tilted his head toward Ryo though, and was surprised to see a sardonic smirk on his face.
“Unfortunately for you, the most I’ll ever offer you is the promise not to starve you,” Ryo retorted almost harshly.
Kuroda took a moment to glare at the two of them for a moment, “I won’t answer any of your questions, Nishikido; not with that offer.”
“Well, you can enjoy starving then,” Ryo responded, “Because honestly, I don’t care whether or not you live. Your family is going down no matter what you try. Not telling us will just make it more painful for yourself.”
“Better than selling out,” Kuroda sneered, directing his comment at Kazuya again.
Kazuya’s jaw clenched, and he glanced at Ryo for a moment; it was after a short pause that the older man nodded reluctantly.
“At least I’m not as good as a murderer,” Kazuya retorted tightly, scathingly.
“I’m not a murderer,” Kuroda commented so idly that he seemed to be talking about the weather; Kazuya could feel his rage grow as his foster father spoke, “I do things that benefit myself and my family.”
“Oh, because you’re benefiting so much right now.”
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Kuroda snapped, “You have no idea what I do for my family -” he cut himself off and, suddenly, he smirked, something that caught Kazuya off guard - and Ryo as well, judging from the way the older man suddenly tensed next to Kazuya, “You really have no idea what I do for my family…” he repeated, staring almost maliciously at Kazuya, with a clear look in his eyes that he was willing to do whatever it took to hurt and destroy Kazuya.
Kazuya stared warily at him, confused but not willing to show it. What was his foster father going on about? Kuroda was laughing to himself now, in a derisive manner; Kazuya didn’t need to ask what he was talking about, because Kuroda was obviously more than willing to share - as long as it shook them up, it seemed.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why the hell I took you in, and made sure you had no choice but to marry my daughter?” Kuroda asked tauntingly, “Surely you realized that I had been grooming you from the start to become her husband.”
Kazuya gave a start at that; he had realized that, with the way he was always made to spend time with Natsuki, but he had always thought that it was because of the crush Natsuki had had on him, and that it was all out of an attempt to make his daughter happy. Was there something else?
“What are you talking about?” he asked in a tight tone.
His foster father gave a sarcastic smile, “May as well put this out there since there’s no way my plans will go through now. You were a stupid child, allowing what happened in that fire to completely block out most memories of your real parents; now, you only remember the happy times, and the sad times, but not the inconsequential, barely significant times, or things they’ve told you instead of just events. If you did, you would have remembered something they had mentioned to you - and us - at a small dinner a few months before the accident.”
Kazuya blinked and then his eyes narrowed, “My parents…?”
He could feel a horrible sense of dread fill him; his parents had always been something that his guardians had avoided talking about - to an extent. He remembered the first and only time his parents had ever come up with his foster parents; they had sat him down in the living room nearly two months after the accident. His teacher had complained that they hadn’t shown up to a school event, because Kazuya had never given them the newsletter. Kazuya still remembered how she had told him to ‘give it to his mommy and daddy’ and a month later, when he had been taken to visit their graves, had placed the newsletter on the graves instead of giving it to his foster parents.
The conversation they had had with him consisted of berating him for not realizing that she meant his guardians, and that his parents were gone, so he should treat them as he would his parents from now on.
Except that they had never treated him like they treated their own child, so that never worked out. Children weren’t stupid and Kazuya certainly wasn’t - he would have only been able to forget his own parents if his guardians had truly loved and accepted him. They never had, and he had a feeling that he would be finding out why soon enough.
“Did you know, Kazuya,” his foster father said in a drawl tone filled with drops of anticipatory triumph, “That your parents looked out for you even after their deaths? Or were you so stupid that you blocked out that they had enough money to live more comfortably than even my family?”
Kazuya could feel his insides freeze a little, as pinpricks of familiarity nagged at his mind. He tried to keep it from showing up on his face though, as he glanced over at Ryo for a moment. Why did the older man have such a tense posture when it was Kazuya who was going to be affected by this?
“In case anything happened to them, they left a will ensuring that until you turned twenty and became of age, a monthly stipend be given to your guardians to provide you with the very best of everything. Did you know how much that was? It was enough for my company to engage in riskier projects and not fear losing the money, because even if we did, we had the money we got for your upbringing to rely on.“
Kazuya could only stare, and he felt something stir inside his heart that he didn’t want to let out - it was a burning, disbelieving rage at what he was hearing and what he was putting together. He had to control himself, because if he didn’t, he would just attack his foster father.
This was the man who had made it so very clear that Kazuya should be grateful to his family for raising him, making him loyal to the family in a way that other people called abuse, who had not only not paid for Kazuya’s upbringing with money from his own pocket, but he had also been spending it on his own selfish desires instead of Kazuya’s upbringing like Kazuya’s parents had asked.
“You didn’t give me the best things.” Kazuya said flatly, even though he knew what the answer would probably be to that, “I went to a public school; Natsuki was the one who went to a private school. If I wanted top quality clothes when I was in school, I had to ask so many times, promise so many things, or I had to get a job to pay for it myself. That’s only the start of it though…”
Kuroda laughed almost hysterically, “Because I only saved a little of it for you, you brat. That was the only reason we took you in - and then we tried to encourage Natsuki to like you, and for you to like her - though that didn’t end up particularly well. For all the times you were so obedient, when it came to that topic, you rebelled so much - it was so troublesome.”
“Because there’s no way you can control who I like,” Kazuya hissed, gripping his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white, “But out of curiosity, why did you do that? So that if I ever found out about this, I wouldn’t kill you? So that I wouldn’t kill you for stealing my parents money? For taking advantage of my parents’ will like that?”
Kuroda didn’t say anything, but merely smirked at Kazuya, something that made Kazuya tighten his grip on his chair, attempting to control all his emotions that were threatening to erupt to the surface and overwhelm him.
It was then that Ryo finally spoke, a cold voice that Kazuya, strangely enough, found reassuring; as he listened to each syllable that came out of Ryo’s mouth, he felt his control over his emotions become stronger - they weren’t gone, but at least it didn’t seem as though he was going to lose control of himself.
“Well, that does clear up some questions,” Ryo said in a frigid tone, “Though that does just leave one. All this planning you’ve put into it, how long have you planning this?”
“This?” Kuroda’s smirk slipped a little to give way to confusion.
“I mean,” Ryo said in a tone that had Kazuya shivering, and from the way Kuroda looked right now, his foster father was no less affected, “How long ago have your murderous tendencies been active? Did you, knowing what you did about the Kamenashi’s resources for their son, should anything happen to them, happen to have a hand in the fire that killed them?”
Kazuya felt his blood go cold; he hadn’t even thought about that! He knew now that his foster father had been a selfish, greedy, man who had only taken Kazuya in for the money, and not because he was a friend’s son - a friend that his parents hadn’t known the true colours of apparently. But then again, Kazuya had been raised by that man and he hadn’t known either. But his foster father was capable of murder too, wasn’t he? The proof, Kazuya had seen that proof with his own eyes just before coming here - in the form of Uchi Hiroki.
Obviously, Ryo had jumped to that possibility more quickly than Kazuya had.
Kuroda’s eyes had popped wide open, giving himself a very unsettling appearance, and then he settled down with a nearly hysterical laugh, “No, but you won’t believe that I didn’t have anything to do with it anyway.” He paused, “Though I suppose, in a way, they should be grateful that they didn’t live past that night; imagine what they would think of their son now, their son whose loyalty means nothing, and who’s become nothing but a cheap whore -”
Quicker than Kazuya could try to hide his flinch, and quicker than Kuroda could see the telltale signs of danger he had been drawing closer and closer to with each word, Kazuya’s foster father found himself holding a hand to his jaw after a resounding crack echoed through the room.
Kazuya stared, wide-eyed, at his foster father, and then at Ryo, who had stood up; Ryo’s chair had skidded backwards, hitting the door behind them, and Ryo was standing with an expression on his face that Kazuya could only describe as cold fury.
Kuroda was flinching in pain now, holding his jaw, and Kazuya kept staring at Ryo.
“Your attitude is really beginning to piss me off,” Ryo said, as he walked around to the other side of the table, and grabbed the front of Kuroda’s shirt in a way that made the older man give out choking noises, “You don’t seem to understand your situation. You have absolutely no power; nobody here wants to make any sort of deal with you, and even the one person who might feel any sort of sympathy toward you - well, I doubt he feels that way now.”
“So what? Are you going to kill me? Turn me over to the police? What proof would you have of anything I’ve done?”
“From the past hour alone? Confessions of extortion. I’ve also found out, from the way you just gave up your plan involving Kamenashi, that you have no idea where your wife and daughter are and was trying to distract me by revealing all that to Kamenashi. Which may have worked, except that you have the charisma of a slug and because of that, you’re not all that convincing when it comes to lying.”
Kazuya couldn’t tear his eyes off of Ryo, and was unable to ignore the way Ryo’s hand twitched as though wanting to hit Kuroda again.
“And let me tell you something you probably don’t know,” Ryo said with a near sadistic gleam in his eye, “Uchi Hiroki? The one your daughter was supposed to kill…she failed.” He said just as the door opened and two menacing looking men walked in, “And I’m not going to kill you,” he hissed in a voice so low that only Kazuya and Kuroda could hear him, “I’m going to wait until Hiroki can see me beat the shit out of you. And what comes after that…” a smirk graced his lips, “You’re going to spend the rest of your pathetic life in misery.”
Ryo turned to the two men who had come in, most likely from the sound of the chair hitting the door; Kazuya wondered if it had really been only a moment or two ago that Ryo had punched Kuroda.
“Take this scumbag back to his room,” Ryo said, drawing the last word out sarcastically.
As Kuroda was dragged out, he sent a scathing glare at Ryo, and then an even worse one at Kazuya, but at this point, Kazuya was practically shaking from anger that came from the knowledge of the extent of Kuroda’s betrayal; he didn’t care what his foster father thought, he didn’t care at all.
Ryo turned to Kazuya, his face blank, but for a moment, Kazuya thought he had seen something in the older man’s eyes.
“I’ll take you back to your room,” Ryo said in that same detached tone; Kazuya nodded numbly, the effects of hearing the truth from Kuroda finally settling in, and he had to take a few deep breaths to keep up his composed front and continue on after Ryo.
No matter how angry he had shown himself as, he was mostly hurt by what had been revealed. The realization that the man who had raised him had been betraying Kazuya’s parents in such a way, and that he had taken in Kazuya for selfish and greedy reasons was a blow that Kazuya hadn’t been prepared to take.
His entire childhood, spent being told how grateful he should be to his foster parents, was a lie - he had nothing to be grateful for, when they didn’t spend any of their own money on him. They had barely spent any time on him, and certainly hadn’t wasted any semblance of affection on him!
But it still hurt.
At least, before, he had had that little thought that perhaps his foster parents had taken him in for a good reason - because they cared enough not to let him go to an orphanage, but now…
Kazuya wasn’t sure how he held it together until he got to his room, and even then, he could feel himself unravelling; his hands were shaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was from anger, shock or hurt - or maybe all three. He wanted nothing more than to collapse somewhere and escape in the sweet bliss of sleep, because the more time he spent awake and alone, the more time he would have to think about it. Thinking about it was something Kazuya wanted to avoid - he didn’t want to think about how he was nothing more than a tool to be used, a means to get to an end.
He wondered if he was just a gullible fool for believing in the people around him.
He had fallen for Ryo’s lies back then easily enough; and now, he had just found out that Ryo hadn’t been the first one to lie to him like that, to pretend to care about him like that.
But at least he could understand Ryo’s reasons; he couldn’t understand how his foster parents had used him for their greed, he didn’t want to understand how he had been nothing but a source of income and money for them.
The walk back to his room was done in silence, and as Ryo unlocked the door, Kazuya took a deep shuddering breath, prepared to be shut in, alone with his thoughts until he could manage to escape into the bliss of dreams and darkness.
He looked up, surprised, when Ryo walked in after him.
“I’m going to be busy explaining why I pretty much broke his jaw later,” Ryo said as he pulled at his tie, “Unless seeing him has changed your mind about our deal.”
Kazuya gave a start, and shook his head, trying to ignore the way his foster father’s words taunted his mind, but the words seemed to dim, just a little, and then even more, when he felt calloused hands on his arms, and then on his shoulders, pushing him to the bed; it was so easy to pretend that this was because Ryo was concerned for him, that this was Ryo’s way of distracting him. It was easier to pretend this, than to pretend that he had never heard the truth - here, at least, Ryo’s presence, just Ryo, was enough to numb the pain in his heart that he was feeling.
It was so easy to wash away the hurt, numb the pain of the truth of his childhood, when he was consumed in the essence that was Nishikido Ryo.
* * *
When Ryo had been there, as fingers had hooked onto the waist of his jeans, and tugged them off, and as hands had wandered over the slowly searing skin of Kazuya’s body, he had been able to forget just a little. The feel of his body against Ryo’s had allowed him to do nothing but think of what was going on at the moment, able to push the pain and the truth into the back of his mind.
Now, as they were settled in Kazuya’s bed, Ryo sitting against the headboard but not moving in an attempt to get as far away from Kazuya like normal, Kazuya could feel that heartbreak coming back. It was so similar, wasn’t it, to what he had felt when he had found out the truth about Ryo.
It was the feeling of having your world shatter into a million pieces of glass around you, cutting you with each shard that broke.
Except, then, he could understand the reasons behind Ryo’s actions - he could understand the desperation to do what was needed for the ones he loved.
He couldn’t begin, or even try, to understand reasons of greed and pure selfishness.
Kazuya could feel his body begin to shake again, as his foster father’s face sneered in the back of his mind, his words cutting through Kazuya like they were supposed to; how was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to deal with a betrayal so pointless that he couldn’t rationalize the pain away?
It was so stupid, his reasons - they hurt so much because they had been for something as horrible as greed. It hurt because, if he had to be hurt, he’d rather he be hurt for a good reason than for a reason like that.
He wrapped an arm around his naked torso, burying his face into the pillow, and tried to stifle the pained tears that wanted to free themselves from his eyes; he didn’t want to cry. It was stupid to cry over his foster father; it was stupid to cry over someone who cared nothing about him.
It was stupid to cry…
It was stupid to cry when there was no one to tell him not to cry. He had never realized it, until now, but his friends’ don’t cry over people like them had meant more to him then he knew at the time. The fake sympathy that Ryo had shown him the few times he was upset was something he missed; even if it was fake, at least he got to hear it.
Kazuya felt movement on the other side of the bed, and he tensed, waiting for the telltale sounds of Ryo getting ready to leave. When he didn’t hear anything, but the soft rustle of the sheets, he frowned in confusion - and then froze when he felt familiar fingers brush against his shoulder blades as a sheet was pulled up over him. What was Ryo doing?
“People like him will never understand how precious trust is,” Ryo said in a tone that made Kazuya draw in a sharp breath, “It was better that you found out now rather than later.”
Kazuya turned around to face Ryo, holding the sheets to his chest, like a child’s security blanket; he didn’t understand this almost…sympathetic tone Ryo was using with him. He didn’t understand most of Ryo’s actions lately - Ryo wasn’t supposed to feel sorry for him. He wasn’t supposed stay behind and keep Kazuya company as though he was concerned; he wasn’t supposed to offer little tidbits of sympathy when he should be leaving Kazuya alone in the room.
But any ideas that Kazuya was imagining this were soon shot out of his mind.
Although Ryo’s words seemed sympathetic and soft enough, his expression wasn’t - he had an expression of tightly controlled fury, as though there was something more to his words than Kazuya could ever understand. He was a vision of anger and comfort, no matter how contradicting those were, to Kazuya.
“Ryo…” Kazuya breathed out.
Ryo was staring piercingly at him, and he moved with a sharp turn of his head, “Just remember that.” He said, “There are people in this world who will take your trust for granted.”
Kazuya frowned in confusion; there was something in Ryo’s tone, in Ryo’s presence right now that seemed like he knew firsthand what it felt like to have that trust broken. Did Ryo really know what Kazuya felt like right now? Was it possible that Ryo was being softer, for lack of a better word, to him right now because he knew how it felt?
But Ryo had never shown him any sympathy before…
But he was right now - well, as close to sympathy as Kazuya was going to get. But…
Kazuya watched Ryo’s back as the older man left, taking note of how he paused in the doorway as though wanting to say something, but then changed his mind with a shake of his head. Kazuya watched all this; did being able to relate to Kazuya make Ryo lose that hatred for him temporarily?
Or…
As Kazuya remembered that video he had been shown what seemed like ages ago, but had really only been a few days ago, was there something else?
Was it possible to feel sympathy for someone you hated with all your heart?
Do you not hate me as much as you want me to believe? Is this you letting down your defences…or just another lie?
Is there a reason why I’m suddenly doubting all your masks, and everything I think I know about you?
* * *
Perhaps it was what had been happening around here, or perhaps it had just been a coincidence, but barely a few days later, not even half a week later, Kazuya woke up to the feeling that something had changed, and when he found out what exactly it was, although he was both surprised and shocked, the timing that it happened seemed just right.
The news had shocked him, elated him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised at the timing of it all. It seemed almost fitting, nearly perfect, that it was now that Uchi Hiroki broke out of the coma that he had been trapped in. Maybe it seemed fitting because Kazuya had seen the younger man only a few days ago, and seen first-hand how Uchi had obviously been close to waking up, or maybe that had been what it seemed like to those who wanted him to wake up.
Or maybe it seemed fitting because now that Kazuya’s foster father, one of the ones behind what had happened to Uchi, was here and imprisoned, as though possessing a sixth sense attuned to his would-be murderer, Uchi woke up.
Whatever it was, it was fairly perfect, the timing, and when Kazuya heard, from one of Ryo’s lackeys who brought him his meal, he wasn’t sure which feeling overwhelmed him the most.
The shock from it happening, the relief because he knew how much Uchi meant to Ryo, or confusion as he wondered what would happen now. What would happen, with Kazuya, with Kazuya’s foster father, with…everything?
Uchi was the reason Ryo was so hurt and so angry all the time; would Uchi’s return to consciousness change that in Ryo? Would he be less hateful toward Kazuya, or even more so?
Or would he continue down that confusing path he had been on lately, and continue to make Kazuya doubt whether that hatred was real or not?
Or…
Kazuya could only ask himself these questions, unable to receive an answer. He knew, though, that Uchi Hiroki would change many things; he just didn’t know what…
Or if he would like those changes…
Kazuya wondered if those little insecurities of his showed later that night, when he was in bed with Ryo, as his feverish skin rubbed against Ryo’s body that was just as warm; he let out a low groan that was stifled by a mouth on his, and he wondered if Ryo could see the nearly needy way Kazuya was gripping onto him, or how he couldn’t seem to stop looking straight at Ryo, for once not indulging in his little deluded fantasy.
After they were both done and exhausted, Kazuya turned to Ryo, his brown eyes trying to hide the hesitation he felt inside.
Ryo stared back for a moment, and Kazuya wondered why he saw none of the usual irritation in Ryo’s eyes; was having Uchi back doing this much for Ryo?
“Hiroki’s awake,” the older man announced, although he must have known that Kazuya already knew that.
“I heard…” Kazuya said softly, raising his eyes to look at Ryo.
“He’s really weak, but at least he’s awake,” Ryo continued, and his eyes flickered toward Kazuya’s eyes for a moment. As their eyes locked, Kazuya could see a dozen or more emotions swirling around in those obsidian eyes. He wondered if it was normal to feel more hesitant right now than he had before Ryo’s angry episodes; what if this meant that Ryo was giving up on finding the rest of his foster family and no longer needed this deal between them to exist? Kazuya was scared that he would have to let Ryo go - as much as he hated it, he relied on Ryo’s thirst for revenge to keep Ryo by his side, no matter how little Ryo thought of him.
What if this changed it all?
“I might not come in the next few days,” Ryo said finally, looking at Kazuya still. Kazuya was confused; why was Ryo telling him this? Ryo had never really needed to tell him if he was going to be away or not; he came and went as he wished.
But hadn’t Ryo been acting strange ever since that meeting with Kazuya’s foster father?
Was it sympathy for Kazuya? Pity? It didn’t make sense to Kazuya that Ryo would pity someone he hated, but it made more sense than the other option - that everything he knew about Ryo’s feelings toward him was another lie. He didn’t dare think it was the other option; the person who had sent that video was wrong and trying to lead him onto a path where he would hope so that whoever it was could crush his hope and destroy Kazuya. He couldn’t dare think that it was anything more than perhaps pity Ryo was feeling. There was no way that Kazuya’s pain would have affected Ryo in any other way.
“Alright…” Kazuya said softly.
Ryo gave a sharp nod at that, and breaking his gaze away, he began to hastily pull his clothes back on; in record time, he was on his feet and heading toward the door.
“Ryo,” Kazuya called out, causing the older man to pause, “I hope he recovers quickly, and…tell him I’m sorry…for what they did.”
Ryo had frozen at Kazuya’s words, and Kazuya could see the familiar cold look cross Ryo’s face, as the older man balled his hands into fists; he nodded shortly before leaving the room.
Kazuya stared at the closed door for the longest time, lost in thought, lost in the possibilities that Ryo’s actions meant, and wondering if it was okay to believe in something he logically knew couldn’t be.
But trusting in his heart never worked for Kazuya; he shouldn’t start now, especially not now. It would lead to him falling all over again…
* * *
Next part ----------->
Pairing: RyoKame (Nishikido Ryo x Kamenashi Kazuya)
Words: 52 106
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Their biggest strength was that they could hurt each other like no one else could, but they could also love each other like no one else could
Previous parts:
Chapter 1 |
Chater 2 : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 |
Chapter 3 : part 1 | part 2 |
--
Kazuya sat in the middle of the room, eyes turned downward to the picture of a younger Ryo - as well as a younger Uchi. Even without being allowed outside, Kazuya could tell that there was something going on. From the nearly elated look on the face of the one who brought his lunch in earlier, Kazuya could guess at what it was. Something had happened - something good - with the search for Kazuya’s foster family.
Ryo’s lead had been right then.
Kazuya wondered what would happen now, and as he did, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what he had found out in the last few days about Ryo; was he over thinking everything?
But no, he couldn’t be the only one thinking like this right?
Whoever had sent that video to him, it had to have come from within the household, he had realized. He had already gotten enough evidence to know that Ryo had blocked off any incoming emails from IP addresses that weren’t approved; as whoever this was didn’t want Ryo to know about the video or the email, Ryo probably hadn’t approved him, and Kazuya had a feeling that just like everything else, it seemed, when it came to Kazuya, Ryo didn’t allow anyone else to interfere with what he did with Kazuya.
So, the only explanation Kazuya could come up with was that the email had been sent to him from inside this building. Because it shared the same IP address, it would make it through the block.
But who would do that? And for what reason?
From the sounds of the sender of the email, it was almost like he wanted Kazuya to rethink what he knew about Ryo, knowing what conclusion Kazuya would come to when he heard that recording.
The recording was further proof that it was from someone in the building; who else would have had enough access to apparently place recording devices to be able to capture that conversation?
But why would someone want to make him rethink Ryo’s actions, going over each and every one in his mind, in light of what he heard? It was like there was some annoying, extremely irritating, puzzle that nagged at Kazuya’s mind, nearly complete, but still with a few missing pieces. And maybe, a few pieces he had mistakenly put in the puzzle that didn’t belong in it.
One sure thing came from all this…
There was someone trying to misdirect him, leading him to the wrong conclusions. The question was whether it was Ryo, though he didn’t dare hope too much for that, or the one who had sent that email.
Kazuya ran his thumb over the younger Ryo in the picture he held, turning the picture over for a moment when he felt something that didn’t feel like the smooth back of the photo. He squinted at it before inhaling sharply in surprise; he hadn’t noticed that before!
There, on the back, in faded yellow marker that practically blended in with the faded back of the photo, was writing that could barely be made out. Kazuya quickly headed over to the desk where he turned on the light, peering at the photo in earnest curiosity.
It was still nearly illegible, the marker mostly faded and blending in with the back of the photo, but he could still kind of make out the childish writing.
He stared at it for a little longer, lips turning up into a half-smile, a sad one as well. With a sigh, he soon let himself fall backwards onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling, a contemplative look on his face.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, a few minutes or a few hours, but he was only brought out of his thoughts by the door opening and familiar footsteps sounding to stop next to him.
“Ryo,” he greeted even before he looked at who it was; he recognized Ryo’s walk, the strength of his footsteps.
He sat up to properly greet the older man, and he saw in Ryo an almost triumphant expression, “The lead led me to your guardian.” He said bluntly.
Kazuya nodded in understanding, “I’d guessed…” he said quietly, “Even from here, I can tell there’s something going on out there.” He added.
But it was still different to hear it from Ryo himself; before, it was just a guess that had little chance of being wrong; now, it was confirmed, the truth, and Kazuya couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. What would happen now?
Ryo looked at him piercingly for a moment, before he nodded, “It’s your foster father, by the way,” he added, “I’ve interrogated him a bit to get the location of the other two, or any other useful information, or even a confession - though that’s unneeded. Running away was confession enough.”
Kazuya could only nod in response, a bit numbly; he would have much preferred it to be Natsuki or his foster mother to be honest, but he also knew that his foster father was possibly the most useful out of all of them. He had the potential to be a goldmine of information, and he would have been the hardest to track down.
“He’s not cooperating, naturally,” Ryo spoke again, not taking his eyes off Kazuya now, “If he continues not to cooperate, I’ll bring you to see him. Perhaps a familiar face will make him let something slip.”
Kazuya swallowed at the prospect, but nodded; he had known that would happen eventually. He could get a reaction out of his foster family, because he knew them well, and because he was familiar to them, they were more likely to let something slip.
But…
“Can I…” Kazuya started, swallowing heavily.
Ryo, who had stayed where he was, still staring at Kazuya intently, raised an eyebrow.
“Can I…maybe see Uchi Hiroki again?” he asked in a hopeful, but soft, tone.
Ryo’s face almost immediately morphed into an expression of surprise, then pain at the reminder of Uchi, and then confused irritation, before settling for an expression of suspicious anger, “Uchi…” he repeated in a blank tone.
“I want to see him, before I see my foster father again,” Kazuya hurried to explain, “To remind myself of what a monster he is; I don’t want to give into him again, like I always used to do. I want to remind myself that they’ve done something horrible and I shouldn’t feel sympathy for him…please…” he added the last word in an even softer tone.
Ryo stared at him for a long moment, before he scowled, “Tomorrow, then.” He said finally, not denying or approving Kazuya’s request, but Kazuya knew from the lack of blatant rejection, that Ryo was in his own way saying yes.
“Thank you,” Kazuya said quietly, contemplatively, as Ryo left.
Ryo paused for a moment, before quickly continuing out the door.
Kazuya smiled sadly as he looked at the closed door; it certainly wouldn’t be possible that Ryo was the one misleading him, rather than the mysterious sender of that email. Ryo certainly had no reason to mislead him; what he knew about Ryo was true, what he thought about Ryo was true. There was no way Ryo was misdirecting and misleading Kazuya into thinking that the older man had no feelings whatsoever for him; there was no misdirecting because it was true, no matter how much that little hope in his chest nagged at him.
Kazuya took the photo out of his pocket, turning it over to the backside.
Ryo-chan, I’ll never let anyone make you sad again!
He wondered, if - no, when - Uchi woke up, would he end up hating Kazuya, not only for what Natsuki did, but because he had done to Ryo the one thing Uchi had promised not to let anyone ever do again.
He turned the photo over and smiled sadly at the two best friends in the photo.
His family had nearly destroyed the body of one, and attacked and injured the heart of the other.
Kazuya’s own heart felt as broken as what had become of the pair in the picture.
* * *
The room was nearly silent, filled with the sound of the monitors around the bed; the dark haired man on the bed, encased tightly by the white sheets, was unmoving, unresponsive, and it was only the strangely reassuring sound of the monitors that indicated that he was still alive, still breathing.
Kazuya took a step forward, holding his breath for what seemed like the longest time; maybe it was because he hadn’t seen him since that first time, or maybe it was the memory of the younger Uchi - grinning like there was nothing to lose - in the picture he had, but Uchi almost seemed even frailer than he had the first time. Kazuya could only stare, open-mouthed, at the unresponsive man.
He was standing behind Ryo, watching as the older man stood by Uchi’s bed for a long moment, his back to Kazuya, but Kazuya could see the stiffening of his body, even as he probably tried to hide the pain that came from seeing his best friend like this.
It was after a moment that Ryo turned back around and, with a pointed scowl and a searching look, he said roughly, “You have ten minutes, then we’re going.”
Kazuya nodded in understanding; honestly, ten minutes was much more than he expected.
He stood by Uchi’s bed, just staring down at the younger man, before he let out a wounded sigh; even as he stood here now, looking at the one person Ryo had done all this for, he could feel his heart recoil in indignant fury at what his foster family had done.
“Can…can he hear me?” Kazuya wondered aloud, hesitantly.
There was a pause, and Kazuya didn’t dare turn around to look at Ryo; he didn’t want to see what emotion would be etched on Ryo’s face at his question.
“The doctors say he might be able to,” Ryo said in a cold tone, that had traces of pure sadness laced into it - traces that Ryo couldn’t hide, “But it’s impossible to know whether he really hears or not.”
“Oh…” was all Kazuya could say. He swallowed, “Is it…is he permanently like this?” he asked, trying not to let his voice crack; this was a horrible fate to have, trapped in a bed, and even worse if it was true that Uchi could hear them, because that meant he knew he was trapped.
Ryo’s voice was like ice when he answered, “I’d hope not,” he said with a snap in his voice. Then, there was another long silence before he replied scathingly, “The doctor said that his body shut down on him to deal with the trauma of his injuries, one of the only reasons he was able to survive those. It’s highly hopeful that, now that his injuries are fully healed, he’ll come out of it on his own.”
Kazuya turned to Ryo, and this time, he couldn’t hide the sadness he felt.
Ryo must have seen it, and maybe Ryo wasn’t sure how to react to him, someone who was guilty by association, feeling pain over what had happened to his best friend, or maybe Ryo just felt like telling him, but he suddenly added:
“It’s already started to happen, in little bits,” Ryo said, and though his expression showed no change, his eyes couldn’t hide all his emotions completely, “Every so often, more lately than ever, the monitors show activity, and at times he’ll move a little, just a twitch of his fingers, but it’s more than enough of a sign.”
Kazuya nodded, feeling sudden relief in his heart; at least Uchi was beginning to recover, at least Ryo seemed to have hope that Uchi would recover - and soon - from this.
He paused, knowing his time was nearly up, and placed a hand on Uchi’s pale one for a moment; as he did, almost as if on cue, Uchi’s hand twitched in response a few moment later, and Kazuya’s eyes widened.
“He moved…” he whispered in surprise.
Ryo was suddenly beside him, and he had a hand on Uchi’s arm; there was an overwhelming sad, and proud, look on his face that he couldn’t seem to hide - or perhaps didn’t even try to.
“I told you he moves every now and then,” Ryo said with a snap, but Kazuya noticed it seemed to have less ire in it; he could tell that Ryo didn’t seem to have it in him right now to be hateful toward him, too consumed by the pain of seeing Uchi like this, just like Kazuya was in his own way.
Ryo said softly to the unresponsive man, “You’ll wake soon, I know…you’re fighting so hard to wake up again.”
Silence descended upon them, and a few moments later, Ryo tore himself away, “Ten minutes is more than up; let’s go.” He said roughly.
Kazuya could only nod and begin to follow Ryo; before he did though, he turned back to Uchi one more time, taking in the frail, unresponsive man, and committing that image to memory - he would need that image to keep himself strong against his foster father.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly to Uchi. Then he added as an afterthought, before he left the man’s bedside, “And thank you.”
* * *
Kazuya’s foster father had always been a source of both fear and coveted acceptance for him; he held the acceptance that Kazuya wanted so much while he had been growing up, but it was always something that came at a price. He would get that acceptance if he did well in school, or if he did the best in something else; it was never unconditional acceptance. As he grew older, and was able to compare his friends’ parents to his guardians, he had slowly begun to accept that perhaps, he would never get their acceptance in that way - but it didn’t stop him from trying.
Right now, as he looked through the crack in the doorway at his foster father, sitting in a dank, dark, little room, unable to do anything but stare blankly down at the table in front of him, Kazuya could only wonder what he had always been so afraid of, and why he had ever wanted acceptance from this man.
He was unshaven, looked like he hadn’t showered for maybe two days, and he had lost a lot of weight - he looked like a broken shadow of the man that had become Kazuya’s father figure as he grew up.
This was the man who he had feared for so long?
This was the man whom Kazuya had always needed to gather up all his courage to stand up to?
Kazuya could only stare as he stood there; as the door swung open and he could see more of the man and the room, Kazuya was left speechless. It was like taking a deep breath and going after a monster in a closet, only to find out that the monster was nothing more than your abandoned pile of toys.
That was how he looked with his head bowed, looking as though he was drifting off, at least.
“I’ve brought someone to see you,” Ryo announced in a cold sneer, causing the nearly frail looking man to snap his head up, “Do you even recognize him, Kuroda?”
Kazuya stood behind Ryo, watching his foster father with wary eyes, but also wondering why he was losing that wariness - did the man seem that unthreatening to him now?
“Of course I recognize the ungrateful brat,” Kuroda hissed out in a voice that he didn’t seem capable of - it was venomous, full of spite and anger.
Kazuya flinched, his wariness going back up again; he didn’t need to feel sorry for this man, he shouldn’t feel sorry for this man. No matter if he looked like this now, he had done something terrible, and he wasn’t going to change for any reason.
“It’s been a while,” he forced himself to say calmly, watching Kuroda with a sharp look. He wasn’t going to let his guard down, he refused to. Long gone were the days when Kazuya had to fear him, when Kazuya could do nothing but fear him.
“Kamenashi is going to sit with us for your questioning,” Ryo said blandly, “I’m sure you don’t mind.” He said sarcastically; it was clear that even if he did mind, it wouldn’t matter to Ryo anyways.
The remark seemed to make Kuroda wilt a little, and his expression suddenly turned pathetic; Kazuya watched all this warily as he took a seat next to Ryo across from his foster father. He knew firsthand how good Kuroda was at manipulating emotions, and he wouldn’t put it past him to be able to manipulate his own.
“I see you’re doing well for yourself,” Kuroda suddenly remarked, staring at Kazuya, “While the rest of your family has been trying to survive, I see you’ve managed to turn the situation to your favour.” He commented almost idly, but Kazuya could see the flash of righteous anger in his eyes.
Kazuya could feel Ryo move next to him, but he didn’t let his guardian get to him, retorting with a, “Considering it’s your fault I’m in this ‘situation’ in the first place?”
Kuroda’s eyes flashed, “And got some nerve too.”
“It comes from realizing what you are.” Kazuya felt his ire build; his foster father dared to be angry at him when it was because of Kuroda’s actions that all of this even happened?
His foster father opened his mouth to say something, but Kazuya quickly cut him off, “I think Nishikido-san has some questions for you, Kuroda.” He said, forcing the strange sentence out. It was strange because he had never referred to his foster father that way before; he had always been incredibly polite and respectful toward his foster father, but now, he was being more polite in referring to Ryo than he was Kuroda, which was bound to anger the man.
Taking advantage of the cue to change the subject, Ryo spoke, “That’s right. You have nowhere to go, Kuroda, which has been made clear already. You may as well answer a few questions, or your stay here will be severely uncomfortable.”
“What, not going to offer me a deal like you’ve obviously done to the ungrateful brat there?”
Kazuya startled, but kept his expression cool and neutral; he tilted his head toward Ryo though, and was surprised to see a sardonic smirk on his face.
“Unfortunately for you, the most I’ll ever offer you is the promise not to starve you,” Ryo retorted almost harshly.
Kuroda took a moment to glare at the two of them for a moment, “I won’t answer any of your questions, Nishikido; not with that offer.”
“Well, you can enjoy starving then,” Ryo responded, “Because honestly, I don’t care whether or not you live. Your family is going down no matter what you try. Not telling us will just make it more painful for yourself.”
“Better than selling out,” Kuroda sneered, directing his comment at Kazuya again.
Kazuya’s jaw clenched, and he glanced at Ryo for a moment; it was after a short pause that the older man nodded reluctantly.
“At least I’m not as good as a murderer,” Kazuya retorted tightly, scathingly.
“I’m not a murderer,” Kuroda commented so idly that he seemed to be talking about the weather; Kazuya could feel his rage grow as his foster father spoke, “I do things that benefit myself and my family.”
“Oh, because you’re benefiting so much right now.”
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Kuroda snapped, “You have no idea what I do for my family -” he cut himself off and, suddenly, he smirked, something that caught Kazuya off guard - and Ryo as well, judging from the way the older man suddenly tensed next to Kazuya, “You really have no idea what I do for my family…” he repeated, staring almost maliciously at Kazuya, with a clear look in his eyes that he was willing to do whatever it took to hurt and destroy Kazuya.
Kazuya stared warily at him, confused but not willing to show it. What was his foster father going on about? Kuroda was laughing to himself now, in a derisive manner; Kazuya didn’t need to ask what he was talking about, because Kuroda was obviously more than willing to share - as long as it shook them up, it seemed.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why the hell I took you in, and made sure you had no choice but to marry my daughter?” Kuroda asked tauntingly, “Surely you realized that I had been grooming you from the start to become her husband.”
Kazuya gave a start at that; he had realized that, with the way he was always made to spend time with Natsuki, but he had always thought that it was because of the crush Natsuki had had on him, and that it was all out of an attempt to make his daughter happy. Was there something else?
“What are you talking about?” he asked in a tight tone.
His foster father gave a sarcastic smile, “May as well put this out there since there’s no way my plans will go through now. You were a stupid child, allowing what happened in that fire to completely block out most memories of your real parents; now, you only remember the happy times, and the sad times, but not the inconsequential, barely significant times, or things they’ve told you instead of just events. If you did, you would have remembered something they had mentioned to you - and us - at a small dinner a few months before the accident.”
Kazuya blinked and then his eyes narrowed, “My parents…?”
He could feel a horrible sense of dread fill him; his parents had always been something that his guardians had avoided talking about - to an extent. He remembered the first and only time his parents had ever come up with his foster parents; they had sat him down in the living room nearly two months after the accident. His teacher had complained that they hadn’t shown up to a school event, because Kazuya had never given them the newsletter. Kazuya still remembered how she had told him to ‘give it to his mommy and daddy’ and a month later, when he had been taken to visit their graves, had placed the newsletter on the graves instead of giving it to his foster parents.
The conversation they had had with him consisted of berating him for not realizing that she meant his guardians, and that his parents were gone, so he should treat them as he would his parents from now on.
Except that they had never treated him like they treated their own child, so that never worked out. Children weren’t stupid and Kazuya certainly wasn’t - he would have only been able to forget his own parents if his guardians had truly loved and accepted him. They never had, and he had a feeling that he would be finding out why soon enough.
“Did you know, Kazuya,” his foster father said in a drawl tone filled with drops of anticipatory triumph, “That your parents looked out for you even after their deaths? Or were you so stupid that you blocked out that they had enough money to live more comfortably than even my family?”
Kazuya could feel his insides freeze a little, as pinpricks of familiarity nagged at his mind. He tried to keep it from showing up on his face though, as he glanced over at Ryo for a moment. Why did the older man have such a tense posture when it was Kazuya who was going to be affected by this?
“In case anything happened to them, they left a will ensuring that until you turned twenty and became of age, a monthly stipend be given to your guardians to provide you with the very best of everything. Did you know how much that was? It was enough for my company to engage in riskier projects and not fear losing the money, because even if we did, we had the money we got for your upbringing to rely on.“
Kazuya could only stare, and he felt something stir inside his heart that he didn’t want to let out - it was a burning, disbelieving rage at what he was hearing and what he was putting together. He had to control himself, because if he didn’t, he would just attack his foster father.
This was the man who had made it so very clear that Kazuya should be grateful to his family for raising him, making him loyal to the family in a way that other people called abuse, who had not only not paid for Kazuya’s upbringing with money from his own pocket, but he had also been spending it on his own selfish desires instead of Kazuya’s upbringing like Kazuya’s parents had asked.
“You didn’t give me the best things.” Kazuya said flatly, even though he knew what the answer would probably be to that, “I went to a public school; Natsuki was the one who went to a private school. If I wanted top quality clothes when I was in school, I had to ask so many times, promise so many things, or I had to get a job to pay for it myself. That’s only the start of it though…”
Kuroda laughed almost hysterically, “Because I only saved a little of it for you, you brat. That was the only reason we took you in - and then we tried to encourage Natsuki to like you, and for you to like her - though that didn’t end up particularly well. For all the times you were so obedient, when it came to that topic, you rebelled so much - it was so troublesome.”
“Because there’s no way you can control who I like,” Kazuya hissed, gripping his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white, “But out of curiosity, why did you do that? So that if I ever found out about this, I wouldn’t kill you? So that I wouldn’t kill you for stealing my parents money? For taking advantage of my parents’ will like that?”
Kuroda didn’t say anything, but merely smirked at Kazuya, something that made Kazuya tighten his grip on his chair, attempting to control all his emotions that were threatening to erupt to the surface and overwhelm him.
It was then that Ryo finally spoke, a cold voice that Kazuya, strangely enough, found reassuring; as he listened to each syllable that came out of Ryo’s mouth, he felt his control over his emotions become stronger - they weren’t gone, but at least it didn’t seem as though he was going to lose control of himself.
“Well, that does clear up some questions,” Ryo said in a frigid tone, “Though that does just leave one. All this planning you’ve put into it, how long have you planning this?”
“This?” Kuroda’s smirk slipped a little to give way to confusion.
“I mean,” Ryo said in a tone that had Kazuya shivering, and from the way Kuroda looked right now, his foster father was no less affected, “How long ago have your murderous tendencies been active? Did you, knowing what you did about the Kamenashi’s resources for their son, should anything happen to them, happen to have a hand in the fire that killed them?”
Kazuya felt his blood go cold; he hadn’t even thought about that! He knew now that his foster father had been a selfish, greedy, man who had only taken Kazuya in for the money, and not because he was a friend’s son - a friend that his parents hadn’t known the true colours of apparently. But then again, Kazuya had been raised by that man and he hadn’t known either. But his foster father was capable of murder too, wasn’t he? The proof, Kazuya had seen that proof with his own eyes just before coming here - in the form of Uchi Hiroki.
Obviously, Ryo had jumped to that possibility more quickly than Kazuya had.
Kuroda’s eyes had popped wide open, giving himself a very unsettling appearance, and then he settled down with a nearly hysterical laugh, “No, but you won’t believe that I didn’t have anything to do with it anyway.” He paused, “Though I suppose, in a way, they should be grateful that they didn’t live past that night; imagine what they would think of their son now, their son whose loyalty means nothing, and who’s become nothing but a cheap whore -”
Quicker than Kazuya could try to hide his flinch, and quicker than Kuroda could see the telltale signs of danger he had been drawing closer and closer to with each word, Kazuya’s foster father found himself holding a hand to his jaw after a resounding crack echoed through the room.
Kazuya stared, wide-eyed, at his foster father, and then at Ryo, who had stood up; Ryo’s chair had skidded backwards, hitting the door behind them, and Ryo was standing with an expression on his face that Kazuya could only describe as cold fury.
Kuroda was flinching in pain now, holding his jaw, and Kazuya kept staring at Ryo.
“Your attitude is really beginning to piss me off,” Ryo said, as he walked around to the other side of the table, and grabbed the front of Kuroda’s shirt in a way that made the older man give out choking noises, “You don’t seem to understand your situation. You have absolutely no power; nobody here wants to make any sort of deal with you, and even the one person who might feel any sort of sympathy toward you - well, I doubt he feels that way now.”
“So what? Are you going to kill me? Turn me over to the police? What proof would you have of anything I’ve done?”
“From the past hour alone? Confessions of extortion. I’ve also found out, from the way you just gave up your plan involving Kamenashi, that you have no idea where your wife and daughter are and was trying to distract me by revealing all that to Kamenashi. Which may have worked, except that you have the charisma of a slug and because of that, you’re not all that convincing when it comes to lying.”
Kazuya couldn’t tear his eyes off of Ryo, and was unable to ignore the way Ryo’s hand twitched as though wanting to hit Kuroda again.
“And let me tell you something you probably don’t know,” Ryo said with a near sadistic gleam in his eye, “Uchi Hiroki? The one your daughter was supposed to kill…she failed.” He said just as the door opened and two menacing looking men walked in, “And I’m not going to kill you,” he hissed in a voice so low that only Kazuya and Kuroda could hear him, “I’m going to wait until Hiroki can see me beat the shit out of you. And what comes after that…” a smirk graced his lips, “You’re going to spend the rest of your pathetic life in misery.”
Ryo turned to the two men who had come in, most likely from the sound of the chair hitting the door; Kazuya wondered if it had really been only a moment or two ago that Ryo had punched Kuroda.
“Take this scumbag back to his room,” Ryo said, drawing the last word out sarcastically.
As Kuroda was dragged out, he sent a scathing glare at Ryo, and then an even worse one at Kazuya, but at this point, Kazuya was practically shaking from anger that came from the knowledge of the extent of Kuroda’s betrayal; he didn’t care what his foster father thought, he didn’t care at all.
Ryo turned to Kazuya, his face blank, but for a moment, Kazuya thought he had seen something in the older man’s eyes.
“I’ll take you back to your room,” Ryo said in that same detached tone; Kazuya nodded numbly, the effects of hearing the truth from Kuroda finally settling in, and he had to take a few deep breaths to keep up his composed front and continue on after Ryo.
No matter how angry he had shown himself as, he was mostly hurt by what had been revealed. The realization that the man who had raised him had been betraying Kazuya’s parents in such a way, and that he had taken in Kazuya for selfish and greedy reasons was a blow that Kazuya hadn’t been prepared to take.
His entire childhood, spent being told how grateful he should be to his foster parents, was a lie - he had nothing to be grateful for, when they didn’t spend any of their own money on him. They had barely spent any time on him, and certainly hadn’t wasted any semblance of affection on him!
But it still hurt.
At least, before, he had had that little thought that perhaps his foster parents had taken him in for a good reason - because they cared enough not to let him go to an orphanage, but now…
Kazuya wasn’t sure how he held it together until he got to his room, and even then, he could feel himself unravelling; his hands were shaking, though he wasn’t sure if it was from anger, shock or hurt - or maybe all three. He wanted nothing more than to collapse somewhere and escape in the sweet bliss of sleep, because the more time he spent awake and alone, the more time he would have to think about it. Thinking about it was something Kazuya wanted to avoid - he didn’t want to think about how he was nothing more than a tool to be used, a means to get to an end.
He wondered if he was just a gullible fool for believing in the people around him.
He had fallen for Ryo’s lies back then easily enough; and now, he had just found out that Ryo hadn’t been the first one to lie to him like that, to pretend to care about him like that.
But at least he could understand Ryo’s reasons; he couldn’t understand how his foster parents had used him for their greed, he didn’t want to understand how he had been nothing but a source of income and money for them.
The walk back to his room was done in silence, and as Ryo unlocked the door, Kazuya took a deep shuddering breath, prepared to be shut in, alone with his thoughts until he could manage to escape into the bliss of dreams and darkness.
He looked up, surprised, when Ryo walked in after him.
“I’m going to be busy explaining why I pretty much broke his jaw later,” Ryo said as he pulled at his tie, “Unless seeing him has changed your mind about our deal.”
Kazuya gave a start, and shook his head, trying to ignore the way his foster father’s words taunted his mind, but the words seemed to dim, just a little, and then even more, when he felt calloused hands on his arms, and then on his shoulders, pushing him to the bed; it was so easy to pretend that this was because Ryo was concerned for him, that this was Ryo’s way of distracting him. It was easier to pretend this, than to pretend that he had never heard the truth - here, at least, Ryo’s presence, just Ryo, was enough to numb the pain in his heart that he was feeling.
It was so easy to wash away the hurt, numb the pain of the truth of his childhood, when he was consumed in the essence that was Nishikido Ryo.
* * *
When Ryo had been there, as fingers had hooked onto the waist of his jeans, and tugged them off, and as hands had wandered over the slowly searing skin of Kazuya’s body, he had been able to forget just a little. The feel of his body against Ryo’s had allowed him to do nothing but think of what was going on at the moment, able to push the pain and the truth into the back of his mind.
Now, as they were settled in Kazuya’s bed, Ryo sitting against the headboard but not moving in an attempt to get as far away from Kazuya like normal, Kazuya could feel that heartbreak coming back. It was so similar, wasn’t it, to what he had felt when he had found out the truth about Ryo.
It was the feeling of having your world shatter into a million pieces of glass around you, cutting you with each shard that broke.
Except, then, he could understand the reasons behind Ryo’s actions - he could understand the desperation to do what was needed for the ones he loved.
He couldn’t begin, or even try, to understand reasons of greed and pure selfishness.
Kazuya could feel his body begin to shake again, as his foster father’s face sneered in the back of his mind, his words cutting through Kazuya like they were supposed to; how was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to deal with a betrayal so pointless that he couldn’t rationalize the pain away?
It was so stupid, his reasons - they hurt so much because they had been for something as horrible as greed. It hurt because, if he had to be hurt, he’d rather he be hurt for a good reason than for a reason like that.
He wrapped an arm around his naked torso, burying his face into the pillow, and tried to stifle the pained tears that wanted to free themselves from his eyes; he didn’t want to cry. It was stupid to cry over his foster father; it was stupid to cry over someone who cared nothing about him.
It was stupid to cry…
It was stupid to cry when there was no one to tell him not to cry. He had never realized it, until now, but his friends’ don’t cry over people like them had meant more to him then he knew at the time. The fake sympathy that Ryo had shown him the few times he was upset was something he missed; even if it was fake, at least he got to hear it.
Kazuya felt movement on the other side of the bed, and he tensed, waiting for the telltale sounds of Ryo getting ready to leave. When he didn’t hear anything, but the soft rustle of the sheets, he frowned in confusion - and then froze when he felt familiar fingers brush against his shoulder blades as a sheet was pulled up over him. What was Ryo doing?
“People like him will never understand how precious trust is,” Ryo said in a tone that made Kazuya draw in a sharp breath, “It was better that you found out now rather than later.”
Kazuya turned around to face Ryo, holding the sheets to his chest, like a child’s security blanket; he didn’t understand this almost…sympathetic tone Ryo was using with him. He didn’t understand most of Ryo’s actions lately - Ryo wasn’t supposed to feel sorry for him. He wasn’t supposed stay behind and keep Kazuya company as though he was concerned; he wasn’t supposed to offer little tidbits of sympathy when he should be leaving Kazuya alone in the room.
But any ideas that Kazuya was imagining this were soon shot out of his mind.
Although Ryo’s words seemed sympathetic and soft enough, his expression wasn’t - he had an expression of tightly controlled fury, as though there was something more to his words than Kazuya could ever understand. He was a vision of anger and comfort, no matter how contradicting those were, to Kazuya.
“Ryo…” Kazuya breathed out.
Ryo was staring piercingly at him, and he moved with a sharp turn of his head, “Just remember that.” He said, “There are people in this world who will take your trust for granted.”
Kazuya frowned in confusion; there was something in Ryo’s tone, in Ryo’s presence right now that seemed like he knew firsthand what it felt like to have that trust broken. Did Ryo really know what Kazuya felt like right now? Was it possible that Ryo was being softer, for lack of a better word, to him right now because he knew how it felt?
But Ryo had never shown him any sympathy before…
But he was right now - well, as close to sympathy as Kazuya was going to get. But…
Kazuya watched Ryo’s back as the older man left, taking note of how he paused in the doorway as though wanting to say something, but then changed his mind with a shake of his head. Kazuya watched all this; did being able to relate to Kazuya make Ryo lose that hatred for him temporarily?
Or…
As Kazuya remembered that video he had been shown what seemed like ages ago, but had really only been a few days ago, was there something else?
Was it possible to feel sympathy for someone you hated with all your heart?
Do you not hate me as much as you want me to believe? Is this you letting down your defences…or just another lie?
Is there a reason why I’m suddenly doubting all your masks, and everything I think I know about you?
* * *
Perhaps it was what had been happening around here, or perhaps it had just been a coincidence, but barely a few days later, not even half a week later, Kazuya woke up to the feeling that something had changed, and when he found out what exactly it was, although he was both surprised and shocked, the timing that it happened seemed just right.
The news had shocked him, elated him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised at the timing of it all. It seemed almost fitting, nearly perfect, that it was now that Uchi Hiroki broke out of the coma that he had been trapped in. Maybe it seemed fitting because Kazuya had seen the younger man only a few days ago, and seen first-hand how Uchi had obviously been close to waking up, or maybe that had been what it seemed like to those who wanted him to wake up.
Or maybe it seemed fitting because now that Kazuya’s foster father, one of the ones behind what had happened to Uchi, was here and imprisoned, as though possessing a sixth sense attuned to his would-be murderer, Uchi woke up.
Whatever it was, it was fairly perfect, the timing, and when Kazuya heard, from one of Ryo’s lackeys who brought him his meal, he wasn’t sure which feeling overwhelmed him the most.
The shock from it happening, the relief because he knew how much Uchi meant to Ryo, or confusion as he wondered what would happen now. What would happen, with Kazuya, with Kazuya’s foster father, with…everything?
Uchi was the reason Ryo was so hurt and so angry all the time; would Uchi’s return to consciousness change that in Ryo? Would he be less hateful toward Kazuya, or even more so?
Or would he continue down that confusing path he had been on lately, and continue to make Kazuya doubt whether that hatred was real or not?
Or…
Kazuya could only ask himself these questions, unable to receive an answer. He knew, though, that Uchi Hiroki would change many things; he just didn’t know what…
Or if he would like those changes…
Kazuya wondered if those little insecurities of his showed later that night, when he was in bed with Ryo, as his feverish skin rubbed against Ryo’s body that was just as warm; he let out a low groan that was stifled by a mouth on his, and he wondered if Ryo could see the nearly needy way Kazuya was gripping onto him, or how he couldn’t seem to stop looking straight at Ryo, for once not indulging in his little deluded fantasy.
After they were both done and exhausted, Kazuya turned to Ryo, his brown eyes trying to hide the hesitation he felt inside.
Ryo stared back for a moment, and Kazuya wondered why he saw none of the usual irritation in Ryo’s eyes; was having Uchi back doing this much for Ryo?
“Hiroki’s awake,” the older man announced, although he must have known that Kazuya already knew that.
“I heard…” Kazuya said softly, raising his eyes to look at Ryo.
“He’s really weak, but at least he’s awake,” Ryo continued, and his eyes flickered toward Kazuya’s eyes for a moment. As their eyes locked, Kazuya could see a dozen or more emotions swirling around in those obsidian eyes. He wondered if it was normal to feel more hesitant right now than he had before Ryo’s angry episodes; what if this meant that Ryo was giving up on finding the rest of his foster family and no longer needed this deal between them to exist? Kazuya was scared that he would have to let Ryo go - as much as he hated it, he relied on Ryo’s thirst for revenge to keep Ryo by his side, no matter how little Ryo thought of him.
What if this changed it all?
“I might not come in the next few days,” Ryo said finally, looking at Kazuya still. Kazuya was confused; why was Ryo telling him this? Ryo had never really needed to tell him if he was going to be away or not; he came and went as he wished.
But hadn’t Ryo been acting strange ever since that meeting with Kazuya’s foster father?
Was it sympathy for Kazuya? Pity? It didn’t make sense to Kazuya that Ryo would pity someone he hated, but it made more sense than the other option - that everything he knew about Ryo’s feelings toward him was another lie. He didn’t dare think it was the other option; the person who had sent that video was wrong and trying to lead him onto a path where he would hope so that whoever it was could crush his hope and destroy Kazuya. He couldn’t dare think that it was anything more than perhaps pity Ryo was feeling. There was no way that Kazuya’s pain would have affected Ryo in any other way.
“Alright…” Kazuya said softly.
Ryo gave a sharp nod at that, and breaking his gaze away, he began to hastily pull his clothes back on; in record time, he was on his feet and heading toward the door.
“Ryo,” Kazuya called out, causing the older man to pause, “I hope he recovers quickly, and…tell him I’m sorry…for what they did.”
Ryo had frozen at Kazuya’s words, and Kazuya could see the familiar cold look cross Ryo’s face, as the older man balled his hands into fists; he nodded shortly before leaving the room.
Kazuya stared at the closed door for the longest time, lost in thought, lost in the possibilities that Ryo’s actions meant, and wondering if it was okay to believe in something he logically knew couldn’t be.
But trusting in his heart never worked for Kazuya; he shouldn’t start now, especially not now. It would lead to him falling all over again…
* * *
Next part ----------->