Proper Life (Weiss Kreuz; Nagi/Mamoru; PG-13)
Title: Proper Life
Author: daegaer
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nagi/Mamoru
Warnings: highlight to read: (inexplicit) incest, off-page minor character death
Word count: 3013
Prompt: Nagi/Mamoru; AU - Mamoru discovers to his shock that he's not the only Takatori bastard around
Notes: Thank you to puddingcat for beta -reading!
Summary: Mamoru lost his family once, he doesn't want to lose it again.
"Are you bored, Mamoru?"
Mamoru tried to swallow the rest of the yawn and kept his gaze steady and respectful as he looked down the table at his grandfather. "No, sir," he said quietly. "The room's just a little airless."
Grandfather sighed and tided his papers. "Perhaps we should take a break, if that is convenient to you, Arai-san? I'm sure that my grandson will be able to pay proper attention once he has had some fresh air. Let us say we shall meet again in half an hour."
"Of course, Takatori-san," his lawyer said. "I have no other appointments this afternoon." He swept his documents into his briefcase and stood. "Takatori-san," he said, bowing to Grandfather. "Mamoru-san." The bow was far less in degree this time.
Mamoru watched him cross the room and leave. When the door closed he would have to turn and face Grandfather's annoyance. The best defence is a good offence, he thought, just like Nagi-kun says. "Shouldn't he call me Takatori-san too?" he said.
Grandfather raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure he will, once you stop acting like a child with whom he can be more familiar."
Mamoru lowered his eyes to the table. Grandfather made even softly-spoken mild regrets more of an offence than Mamoru felt he had ever wielded. "I'm sorry, Grandfather."
"You must pay attention in these meetings," Grandfather said. "Arai won't talk, but others will - do you wish to gain a reputation for not paying attention? Who would take you seriously once I am no longer here to help you?"
"Grandfather, please," Mamoru said, "It really is just that the room was stuffy - "
"Mamoru," Grandfather said, and stood. He waved Mamoru back down to his seat as he hurriedly stood, eager to show he could meet Grandfather's views on proper respect. "Child, I know it's hard, but you need to be the sort of man who can take over the company and Kritiker once I'm gone. I know you try -" His hand landed briefly on Mamoru's head, one stroke to his hair, as if Mamoru really were a child who could expect nothing but affection from his grandfather. "Try harder. You're all I have left."
He walked away, leaving Mamoru alone in the room.
* * *
"I thought I'd killed that little fool," Mamoru said bitterly. "But my grandfather speaks gently to me for once and suddenly I'm stupid little Omi again, just wanting to belong." He downed the beer left in his glass and signalled the waiter for yet another. "I'm a disappointment to him. I'm disappointed at how much that hurts." It did hurt, he thought, remembering Grandfather’s hand on his head. He had to do better, to restore the family’s reputation. He wanted to make his grandfather proud.
"You're drunk," Nagi said.
Mamoru shrugged. "So? You're here, aren't you? Keeping me safe?" Nagi was always there, solid and immovable, a rock he knew he could cling to. His fond thoughts were disrupted when Nagi plucked the fresh glass from the waiter's tray and kept it out of reach.
"I'm keeping you from getting maudlin," Nagi said, fending him off easily. "Come on, you're going home before you start whimpering about how much better it was to be a terrible florist."
"I was a good florist," Mamoru said indignantly, keeping his eyes on the beer.
"Right. It must have been someone else who said he was happy not to be stuck eating nothing but ramen the last week of every month. Up!" He pulled Mamoru up and shoved him none-too-gently ahead of him out of the bar. "Do you need me to carry you?" he said watching Mamoru swaying in the chilly night air as the beer caught up with him.
"No," Mamoru said vaguely. "Where's the car? Why didn't I have the car waiting?"
"That's what I said," Nagi said in dry amusement. "You wanted to be ordinary. Which means you're paying for this -" He waved at a passing taxi and dragged Mamoru over as it stopped. Mamoru climbed in without prompting and watched the door close behind Nagi. He shut his eyes, trying to count the beers he'd had, and coming up with different numbers each time. Maybe Nagi had spiked his drink, he thought, and sniggered at the idea of Nagi wanting to get him drunk.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Mamoru giggled. Nagi's long-suffering sigh made him snigger all the more. "Are you going to stay tonight?"
"Will I be sleeping on the sofa while you snore?"
"No," Mamoru said, smiling. He reached out, eyes still shut, to see if he could find Nagi's hand. His fingers met a smooth wall of - he opened his eyes - nothing. Nagi looked at him sidelong.
"There is a time and a place," Nagi said, looking dead ahead once more, though his voice wasn't angry. "Maybe you're too drunk and you'd regret it in the morning."
"Maybe you just need to catch up," Mamoru grinned. He had long since decoded when Nagi was teasing. "I still have that scotch."
"Oh, proper alcohol," Nagi mused. "OK." He turned his head and there was something almost like a smile on his lips. "You know the way to my heart."
"And to your co-"
"Mamoru," Nagi said in reproof, and the almost-smile was more evident. "You're an idiot."
"But you'll stay?"
Nagi ignored him, looking out the window at the other cars and the bright lights. A band of pressure wound itself around Mamoru's wrist and squeezed just enough to be a reassurance and a promise. Mamoru sat back and closed his eyes again, smiling all the way home.
* * *
Mamoru swallowed two more paracetamol and downed another half-litre of water. Grandfather knew he had a hangover, of course, but he was hoping he had disguised it at least a little from the other board members. At least he'd been able to answer a few questions semi-intelligently. As you should, he told himself. He'd studied the business for months, after all. He should apologise to his grandfather, though, before he took official notice of the hangover, and officially disapproved. He scrubbed his face and brushed his hair until it was as neat as it would ever be, and walked quickly to his grandfather's office. His hand was raised to knock when he heard his own name said inside. Mamoru lowered his hand, and looked around carefully. There was no one in the corridor. He stood a little closer to the door and listened.
" - out for most of the night," Grandfather said. "I doubt he's sober yet."
"Young men," another voice said sympathetically. Arai-san, Mamoru thought.
"He needs to leave his youth behind," Grandfather said. There was a pause, then, "I push him hard, and he tries, but -" Another pause. "He doesn't have the instinct for the business. For either of them; Shuuichi trained him to be a tool, not the hand that wields it. It's a waste, and I blame myself. I should have insisted the ransom be paid - I should have cared for him if Reiji wouldn't take him back." He laughed bitterly. "The poor boy, I failed him then and I'm failing him now."
Mamoru leant his head against the doorframe, feeling tears prick his eyes. Grandfather, he thought.
"I must keep trying," Grandfather said. "So help me, he's all that I've got."
Arai cleared his throat. "Takatori-san, if I might be frank, I think it's time you read this report."
"It won't change anything," Grandfather said. "I regret asking you to look into it."
"Takatori-san, if you're worried about Mamoru-san's abilities you must read this. If you could spare Mamoru-san the burdens you now put on him -"
Mamoru frowned and shifted a little closer.
"It would be kinder," Grandfather said slowly.
"Then read this, Takatori-san. He is not all you have. There is another with a better claim."
Mamoru found he wasn't breathing. He stepped back, slow, silent steps, his heart hammering. Who? he thought. Who was better than a son of Grandfather's son, even if he were a bastard? Who was taking the life he was slowly getting used to? It was his, and he wasn't going to let it be taken from him, not after so many years had already been stolen. He turned and walked away, cursing the headache that made it so difficult to think.
* * *
It was, in the end, simpler than he thought to read what Arai had given Grandfather. Mamoru was a boy who tried and who didn’t quite live up to Grandfather’s expectations, after all. That he was still to some extent Omi, and that Omi was trained in surveillance and espionage, seemed to have been forgotten. All it took was being patient for a week while he slowly and carefully bypassed the security system in the offices, sliding past obstacles with the aid of the information that the security personnel and programmers weren’t as careful with as they should have been in front of the heir to the company. At first he wished he’d asked Nagi to help, then was pleased to work alone, feeling that he was back in a world he understood and could manipulate.
There was only one copy of the report, carefully bound and locked away, for Grandfather trusted physical security far more than electronic for things he considered important. Standing in Grandfather’s office, the safe opened and the mostly hand-written report in his hands, Mamoru was more glad than ever that he had done this himself. He felt ill, looking at the photos of Nagi, the timeline of Nagi’s life with the years-long gaps filled by terse phrases. Orphanage. Austria: Eszett facility. Eszett operative (locations unknown). Mamoru sat, feeling light-headed. He didn’t want to know this, he thought. He had to. He read on, skimming page after page of genetic test results he only vaguely understood, the lists of people Nagi had come into contact with as a child and who had needed to be silenced. Damn you, Reiji, Mamoru thought wearily. It was clear that Nagi’s mother had been one of them. He bit his lip, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh. My own sister, he thought, and now my brother? I suppose I can at least say I’m sure I have a type.
He paused, reading one sentence again. Regarding the nature of Naoe Nagi and Takatori Mamoru’s relationship, Arai had written, both parties should be influenced to choose more appropriate partners before the truth of Naoe Nagi’s parentage is revealed to either. Mamoru-san has been surprisingly discreet, and knowledge of the affair will quickly dwindle to no more than references to friendship. Mamoru grimaced at the condescension as he turned the page and paused, his eye caught by the word nephew. He frowned, and flicked back to the pages of DNA results he had skimmed, reading more carefully, his eyes widening as he read. He closed the report at last and locked it away. No wonder they thought Nagi might be better than him, he thought. All those references to Reiji and Shuuichi, and he had missed the most important name. Takatori Saijou.
Nagi was Grandfather’s son.
* * *
"What’s wrong with you? If you’re going to sulk all night I can leave."
"Sorry," Mamoru said and pulled his gaze away from the ceiling and back to Nagi. "There’s a lot on my mind."
"There always is." Nagi propped himself up on one elbow and leant over to kiss him. "Stop thinking, it distracts you from what you want to do."
Mamoru kissed back, wrapping his arms round him and feeling better than he had for the entire day. Nagi’s hand stroked down his body and settled at his groin, and Mamoru started, shoving him away.
"What the hell?" Nagi said, looking surprised.
"Just - don’t," Mamoru said, and wished he could somehow take the words back as Nagi’s face took on the professional blankness with which he covered real emotions.
"I’ll let you get some rest," Nagi said and got off the bed.
"Nagi, wait -"
"Let me know when you’ve got over your weird mood."
"Nagi, wait," Mamoru said, and got up to stop him getting dressed. "I’m sorry, it’s just -" Nagi gave him an exasperated look; it was such a familiar and oddly comforting expression that Mamoru found himself undone. What the hell, he thought, a little wildly, and tried to kiss Nagi. at least I’m not fucking my brother. As the thought registered, he laughed - too hysterically if Nagi’s expression was anything to go by, and then he was crying. Nagi was his uncle and everything was irredeemably fucked up, just as it had been ever since the kidnappers had pulled him into their van.
"Hey," Nagi said uncomfortably, and awkwardly put his arms round him. "Get hold of yourself -" He patted Mamoru’s back. "Stop this, come on -"
It’s not fair to do this to me, Mamoru thought. What the fuck did I do in a past life to deserve this?
"Mamoru, come on, tell me what this is about. You tell me who did it and I’ll kill them, OK?"
"Promise?" Mamoru said. He doesn’t know, he reminded himself, hanging on as if he were drowning and Nagi was the only means of rescue. If he doesn’t know, this doesn’t have to be wrecked.
There was a pause and then, "Yes," Nagi said, and now there was anger in his voice. "Who do you want me to kill?"
"Don’t you want to know why?" Mamoru said.
"Who will do, for now."
"Arai," Mamoru said. "He thinks I’m not fit to inherit the company, and he’s working on Grandfather to have me sidelined."
"Your grandfather would never do that," Nagi said.
"He would if I wasn’t a Takatori," Mamoru said, and knew how he was going to sway Nagi as inspiration struck. "Arai says I’m not Shuuichi’s son, that my mother had many affairs, I could be anyone’s. He says the board would never stand me inheriting and that he’d have to tell them unless Grandfather pushes me aside."
Nagi looked at him closely, as if he’d never seen him before. "You don’t really look like either Reiji or Shuuichi," he said reluctantly.
"No," Mamoru said, thinking, I look more like you - slighter and shorter. Like Grandfather. The next thing he had to say was harder. He was a disappointment, he knew, but Grandfather loved him, and all he himself had ever wanted was a family. But Grandfather knew about Nagi, and he was clever and had stayed alive and untouched by scandal all though his older sons’ disastrous lives. If Arai died he would be suspicious of everyone and sooner or later he’d come to the right conclusions. "If it’s true, I find it very convenient that my mother killed herself. Maybe she was killed so the scandal could die with her." I’m sorry, Mother, he thought, but they did it to Nagi’s mother. "I think Grandfather -"
"Shh," Nagi said. "You don’t have to say anything else."
Mamoru smiled, feeling hope return. When they were dead he could have his proper life back.
* * *
No one could have been disappointed in him at the funeral, Mamoru thought. He had been respectful and reserved, his obvious grief kept under control as he thanked the mourners for coming to pay their respects. Arai had looked at him sidelong, but said nothing. After the terms of Grandfather’s will had been made public, Arai rang him, apparently unwilling to see him face-to-face.
"I regret I must be out of Tokyo for some time," Arai said. "A matter of family illness - I hope you will understand, Takatori-san?"
"Of course," Mamoru said politely.
"My cousin is very poorly," Arai said after a moment. "I may need to stay for an extended time, in fact I have been wondering if at my age I should not take retirement somewhat early, to allow myself to devote myself purely to my family. I hope you will understand and be forgiving, Takatori-san?"
"Family is the most important thing," Mamoru said. "You must do exactly as you think best, Arai-san."
When Arai hung up, he turned to Nagi. "Arai doesn’t have family outside Tokyo, does he?"
"No," Nagi said. "He bought a ticket to Guam this morning. Don’t worry." He smiled wryly. "Family is the most important thing? You’ve grown cynical."
"You’re my family," Mamoru said. "I'll see you later, won't I?"
"Of course. I'll take care of things."
Nagi nodded in farewell, and Mamoru smiled as he felt an invisible touch press against him. When Nagi was gone he went back to work, looking over his notes on Arai's report, to see who would have to be dealt with next, before turning to all the other reports that had come from both the company and from Kritiker. It was a lot of work, but he had found at last the ability to keep on top of it all. Grandfather would have been proud, he thought as he worked. He looked towards the window - the day was warm and the room had become hot and stuffy, but it didn't bother him.
He supposed he had at last simply become used to being a Takatori.
Author: daegaer
Fandom: Weiß Kreuz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nagi/Mamoru
Warnings: highlight to read: (inexplicit) incest, off-page minor character death
Word count: 3013
Prompt: Nagi/Mamoru; AU - Mamoru discovers to his shock that he's not the only Takatori bastard around
Notes: Thank you to puddingcat for beta -reading!
Summary: Mamoru lost his family once, he doesn't want to lose it again.
"Are you bored, Mamoru?"
Mamoru tried to swallow the rest of the yawn and kept his gaze steady and respectful as he looked down the table at his grandfather. "No, sir," he said quietly. "The room's just a little airless."
Grandfather sighed and tided his papers. "Perhaps we should take a break, if that is convenient to you, Arai-san? I'm sure that my grandson will be able to pay proper attention once he has had some fresh air. Let us say we shall meet again in half an hour."
"Of course, Takatori-san," his lawyer said. "I have no other appointments this afternoon." He swept his documents into his briefcase and stood. "Takatori-san," he said, bowing to Grandfather. "Mamoru-san." The bow was far less in degree this time.
Mamoru watched him cross the room and leave. When the door closed he would have to turn and face Grandfather's annoyance. The best defence is a good offence, he thought, just like Nagi-kun says. "Shouldn't he call me Takatori-san too?" he said.
Grandfather raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure he will, once you stop acting like a child with whom he can be more familiar."
Mamoru lowered his eyes to the table. Grandfather made even softly-spoken mild regrets more of an offence than Mamoru felt he had ever wielded. "I'm sorry, Grandfather."
"You must pay attention in these meetings," Grandfather said. "Arai won't talk, but others will - do you wish to gain a reputation for not paying attention? Who would take you seriously once I am no longer here to help you?"
"Grandfather, please," Mamoru said, "It really is just that the room was stuffy - "
"Mamoru," Grandfather said, and stood. He waved Mamoru back down to his seat as he hurriedly stood, eager to show he could meet Grandfather's views on proper respect. "Child, I know it's hard, but you need to be the sort of man who can take over the company and Kritiker once I'm gone. I know you try -" His hand landed briefly on Mamoru's head, one stroke to his hair, as if Mamoru really were a child who could expect nothing but affection from his grandfather. "Try harder. You're all I have left."
He walked away, leaving Mamoru alone in the room.
* * *
"I thought I'd killed that little fool," Mamoru said bitterly. "But my grandfather speaks gently to me for once and suddenly I'm stupid little Omi again, just wanting to belong." He downed the beer left in his glass and signalled the waiter for yet another. "I'm a disappointment to him. I'm disappointed at how much that hurts." It did hurt, he thought, remembering Grandfather’s hand on his head. He had to do better, to restore the family’s reputation. He wanted to make his grandfather proud.
"You're drunk," Nagi said.
Mamoru shrugged. "So? You're here, aren't you? Keeping me safe?" Nagi was always there, solid and immovable, a rock he knew he could cling to. His fond thoughts were disrupted when Nagi plucked the fresh glass from the waiter's tray and kept it out of reach.
"I'm keeping you from getting maudlin," Nagi said, fending him off easily. "Come on, you're going home before you start whimpering about how much better it was to be a terrible florist."
"I was a good florist," Mamoru said indignantly, keeping his eyes on the beer.
"Right. It must have been someone else who said he was happy not to be stuck eating nothing but ramen the last week of every month. Up!" He pulled Mamoru up and shoved him none-too-gently ahead of him out of the bar. "Do you need me to carry you?" he said watching Mamoru swaying in the chilly night air as the beer caught up with him.
"No," Mamoru said vaguely. "Where's the car? Why didn't I have the car waiting?"
"That's what I said," Nagi said in dry amusement. "You wanted to be ordinary. Which means you're paying for this -" He waved at a passing taxi and dragged Mamoru over as it stopped. Mamoru climbed in without prompting and watched the door close behind Nagi. He shut his eyes, trying to count the beers he'd had, and coming up with different numbers each time. Maybe Nagi had spiked his drink, he thought, and sniggered at the idea of Nagi wanting to get him drunk.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Mamoru giggled. Nagi's long-suffering sigh made him snigger all the more. "Are you going to stay tonight?"
"Will I be sleeping on the sofa while you snore?"
"No," Mamoru said, smiling. He reached out, eyes still shut, to see if he could find Nagi's hand. His fingers met a smooth wall of - he opened his eyes - nothing. Nagi looked at him sidelong.
"There is a time and a place," Nagi said, looking dead ahead once more, though his voice wasn't angry. "Maybe you're too drunk and you'd regret it in the morning."
"Maybe you just need to catch up," Mamoru grinned. He had long since decoded when Nagi was teasing. "I still have that scotch."
"Oh, proper alcohol," Nagi mused. "OK." He turned his head and there was something almost like a smile on his lips. "You know the way to my heart."
"And to your co-"
"Mamoru," Nagi said in reproof, and the almost-smile was more evident. "You're an idiot."
"But you'll stay?"
Nagi ignored him, looking out the window at the other cars and the bright lights. A band of pressure wound itself around Mamoru's wrist and squeezed just enough to be a reassurance and a promise. Mamoru sat back and closed his eyes again, smiling all the way home.
* * *
Mamoru swallowed two more paracetamol and downed another half-litre of water. Grandfather knew he had a hangover, of course, but he was hoping he had disguised it at least a little from the other board members. At least he'd been able to answer a few questions semi-intelligently. As you should, he told himself. He'd studied the business for months, after all. He should apologise to his grandfather, though, before he took official notice of the hangover, and officially disapproved. He scrubbed his face and brushed his hair until it was as neat as it would ever be, and walked quickly to his grandfather's office. His hand was raised to knock when he heard his own name said inside. Mamoru lowered his hand, and looked around carefully. There was no one in the corridor. He stood a little closer to the door and listened.
" - out for most of the night," Grandfather said. "I doubt he's sober yet."
"Young men," another voice said sympathetically. Arai-san, Mamoru thought.
"He needs to leave his youth behind," Grandfather said. There was a pause, then, "I push him hard, and he tries, but -" Another pause. "He doesn't have the instinct for the business. For either of them; Shuuichi trained him to be a tool, not the hand that wields it. It's a waste, and I blame myself. I should have insisted the ransom be paid - I should have cared for him if Reiji wouldn't take him back." He laughed bitterly. "The poor boy, I failed him then and I'm failing him now."
Mamoru leant his head against the doorframe, feeling tears prick his eyes. Grandfather, he thought.
"I must keep trying," Grandfather said. "So help me, he's all that I've got."
Arai cleared his throat. "Takatori-san, if I might be frank, I think it's time you read this report."
"It won't change anything," Grandfather said. "I regret asking you to look into it."
"Takatori-san, if you're worried about Mamoru-san's abilities you must read this. If you could spare Mamoru-san the burdens you now put on him -"
Mamoru frowned and shifted a little closer.
"It would be kinder," Grandfather said slowly.
"Then read this, Takatori-san. He is not all you have. There is another with a better claim."
Mamoru found he wasn't breathing. He stepped back, slow, silent steps, his heart hammering. Who? he thought. Who was better than a son of Grandfather's son, even if he were a bastard? Who was taking the life he was slowly getting used to? It was his, and he wasn't going to let it be taken from him, not after so many years had already been stolen. He turned and walked away, cursing the headache that made it so difficult to think.
* * *
It was, in the end, simpler than he thought to read what Arai had given Grandfather. Mamoru was a boy who tried and who didn’t quite live up to Grandfather’s expectations, after all. That he was still to some extent Omi, and that Omi was trained in surveillance and espionage, seemed to have been forgotten. All it took was being patient for a week while he slowly and carefully bypassed the security system in the offices, sliding past obstacles with the aid of the information that the security personnel and programmers weren’t as careful with as they should have been in front of the heir to the company. At first he wished he’d asked Nagi to help, then was pleased to work alone, feeling that he was back in a world he understood and could manipulate.
There was only one copy of the report, carefully bound and locked away, for Grandfather trusted physical security far more than electronic for things he considered important. Standing in Grandfather’s office, the safe opened and the mostly hand-written report in his hands, Mamoru was more glad than ever that he had done this himself. He felt ill, looking at the photos of Nagi, the timeline of Nagi’s life with the years-long gaps filled by terse phrases. Orphanage. Austria: Eszett facility. Eszett operative (locations unknown). Mamoru sat, feeling light-headed. He didn’t want to know this, he thought. He had to. He read on, skimming page after page of genetic test results he only vaguely understood, the lists of people Nagi had come into contact with as a child and who had needed to be silenced. Damn you, Reiji, Mamoru thought wearily. It was clear that Nagi’s mother had been one of them. He bit his lip, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh. My own sister, he thought, and now my brother? I suppose I can at least say I’m sure I have a type.
He paused, reading one sentence again. Regarding the nature of Naoe Nagi and Takatori Mamoru’s relationship, Arai had written, both parties should be influenced to choose more appropriate partners before the truth of Naoe Nagi’s parentage is revealed to either. Mamoru-san has been surprisingly discreet, and knowledge of the affair will quickly dwindle to no more than references to friendship. Mamoru grimaced at the condescension as he turned the page and paused, his eye caught by the word nephew. He frowned, and flicked back to the pages of DNA results he had skimmed, reading more carefully, his eyes widening as he read. He closed the report at last and locked it away. No wonder they thought Nagi might be better than him, he thought. All those references to Reiji and Shuuichi, and he had missed the most important name. Takatori Saijou.
Nagi was Grandfather’s son.
* * *
"What’s wrong with you? If you’re going to sulk all night I can leave."
"Sorry," Mamoru said and pulled his gaze away from the ceiling and back to Nagi. "There’s a lot on my mind."
"There always is." Nagi propped himself up on one elbow and leant over to kiss him. "Stop thinking, it distracts you from what you want to do."
Mamoru kissed back, wrapping his arms round him and feeling better than he had for the entire day. Nagi’s hand stroked down his body and settled at his groin, and Mamoru started, shoving him away.
"What the hell?" Nagi said, looking surprised.
"Just - don’t," Mamoru said, and wished he could somehow take the words back as Nagi’s face took on the professional blankness with which he covered real emotions.
"I’ll let you get some rest," Nagi said and got off the bed.
"Nagi, wait -"
"Let me know when you’ve got over your weird mood."
"Nagi, wait," Mamoru said, and got up to stop him getting dressed. "I’m sorry, it’s just -" Nagi gave him an exasperated look; it was such a familiar and oddly comforting expression that Mamoru found himself undone. What the hell, he thought, a little wildly, and tried to kiss Nagi. at least I’m not fucking my brother. As the thought registered, he laughed - too hysterically if Nagi’s expression was anything to go by, and then he was crying. Nagi was his uncle and everything was irredeemably fucked up, just as it had been ever since the kidnappers had pulled him into their van.
"Hey," Nagi said uncomfortably, and awkwardly put his arms round him. "Get hold of yourself -" He patted Mamoru’s back. "Stop this, come on -"
It’s not fair to do this to me, Mamoru thought. What the fuck did I do in a past life to deserve this?
"Mamoru, come on, tell me what this is about. You tell me who did it and I’ll kill them, OK?"
"Promise?" Mamoru said. He doesn’t know, he reminded himself, hanging on as if he were drowning and Nagi was the only means of rescue. If he doesn’t know, this doesn’t have to be wrecked.
There was a pause and then, "Yes," Nagi said, and now there was anger in his voice. "Who do you want me to kill?"
"Don’t you want to know why?" Mamoru said.
"Who will do, for now."
"Arai," Mamoru said. "He thinks I’m not fit to inherit the company, and he’s working on Grandfather to have me sidelined."
"Your grandfather would never do that," Nagi said.
"He would if I wasn’t a Takatori," Mamoru said, and knew how he was going to sway Nagi as inspiration struck. "Arai says I’m not Shuuichi’s son, that my mother had many affairs, I could be anyone’s. He says the board would never stand me inheriting and that he’d have to tell them unless Grandfather pushes me aside."
Nagi looked at him closely, as if he’d never seen him before. "You don’t really look like either Reiji or Shuuichi," he said reluctantly.
"No," Mamoru said, thinking, I look more like you - slighter and shorter. Like Grandfather. The next thing he had to say was harder. He was a disappointment, he knew, but Grandfather loved him, and all he himself had ever wanted was a family. But Grandfather knew about Nagi, and he was clever and had stayed alive and untouched by scandal all though his older sons’ disastrous lives. If Arai died he would be suspicious of everyone and sooner or later he’d come to the right conclusions. "If it’s true, I find it very convenient that my mother killed herself. Maybe she was killed so the scandal could die with her." I’m sorry, Mother, he thought, but they did it to Nagi’s mother. "I think Grandfather -"
"Shh," Nagi said. "You don’t have to say anything else."
Mamoru smiled, feeling hope return. When they were dead he could have his proper life back.
* * *
No one could have been disappointed in him at the funeral, Mamoru thought. He had been respectful and reserved, his obvious grief kept under control as he thanked the mourners for coming to pay their respects. Arai had looked at him sidelong, but said nothing. After the terms of Grandfather’s will had been made public, Arai rang him, apparently unwilling to see him face-to-face.
"I regret I must be out of Tokyo for some time," Arai said. "A matter of family illness - I hope you will understand, Takatori-san?"
"Of course," Mamoru said politely.
"My cousin is very poorly," Arai said after a moment. "I may need to stay for an extended time, in fact I have been wondering if at my age I should not take retirement somewhat early, to allow myself to devote myself purely to my family. I hope you will understand and be forgiving, Takatori-san?"
"Family is the most important thing," Mamoru said. "You must do exactly as you think best, Arai-san."
When Arai hung up, he turned to Nagi. "Arai doesn’t have family outside Tokyo, does he?"
"No," Nagi said. "He bought a ticket to Guam this morning. Don’t worry." He smiled wryly. "Family is the most important thing? You’ve grown cynical."
"You’re my family," Mamoru said. "I'll see you later, won't I?"
"Of course. I'll take care of things."
Nagi nodded in farewell, and Mamoru smiled as he felt an invisible touch press against him. When Nagi was gone he went back to work, looking over his notes on Arai's report, to see who would have to be dealt with next, before turning to all the other reports that had come from both the company and from Kritiker. It was a lot of work, but he had found at last the ability to keep on top of it all. Grandfather would have been proud, he thought as he worked. He looked towards the window - the day was warm and the room had become hot and stuffy, but it didn't bother him.
He supposed he had at last simply become used to being a Takatori.