House of Cards - 1/5 (JE, Akame)
Title: House of Cards
Category: JE
Pairing: Jin/Kame
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 42,000
Notes: kizuna_exchange fic for becroberts (yes, from 2011, I am lazy when it comes to archiving, okay)
Huge, huge thanks to matchynishi and misao_duo for their help and support. ♡
Summary: Starting over is easier said than done. A kidnapping leads Jin back to the past-to the Suicide King and the Black Court. His new, normal life is at stake, but is it really worth keeping?
The cards fall where they may. ALL IN or FOLD?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
He picked up the call after the third ring.
"Takumi," he said, straightforwardly rude yet matched by perfunctory politeness. He slipped two fingers between the plastic slats of the window blinds and parted them to reveal a slash of pale dawn light. Shades of gray permeated Tokyo for time being.
Those who dealt with Takumi in person compared him to an actor, but they couldn't say whether he was a good one; his mannerisms were a little too practiced, the degree of his bows a little too precise, his words too carefully selected but at the same time too brazenly spoken. The foreign directness wasn't masked, merely dressed in cultural courtesy for a while. But it was difficult to say just how much pretending was going on beneath that.
As he listened to the voice in his ear he withdrew his hand to press over his eyes, almost as though to hide his weary expression. "You called this number just to tell me that?" The man called Takumi sank into a chair, the straight line of his back beginning to uncharacteristically slouch. "No, don't bother. I don't want to even hear that name."
He listened some more, then frowned and sat upright again. "Eh?"
His back was to the window, expression shadowed, but his next words lashed in brief, precise strokes. "Fine, but be discreet. No one else is to know. If nothing comes up, drop it." His fingers tightened on the phone. "If that happens, I'll take responsibility. Don't contact me again on this line."
He ended the call. After a moment's thought he also turned off the phone and tossed it in the vicinity of the bed, taut lines going slack again as he slumped backwards. The cracks between the blinds slowly brightened by degrees and he closed his eyes against them. It would be good if Takumi could just disappear for a while until night fell again.
♥ || ♠
The large minute hand of the obscenely expensive watch on his wrist said it was about fifteen after as Jin blew through the revolving glass doors, and barely avoided getting the large duffle bag swinging from his shoulder caught in them. He hadn't meant to be late-in fact he'd been aiming for early, but things happened as they happened and Yamapi would understand. The girl waiting for him, however, might not. That was the incentive that made him hurry across the posh lobby, giving the concierge a quick wave that also happened to flash the diamonds adorning his watch as if to say, look, I belong here, I'm not suspicious at all!
Of course, it probably would have helped if he'd dressed up rather than his usual down, but even multi-millionaires and business tycoons had casual days, right? And it was Sunday morning on top of that. Only a very special person could get Jin up and moving on such a day, and at such an hour.
Jin hopped into an elevator, jabbing the floor number and close doors buttons before the staff could think to question him. He wasn't accused of theft very often; that would involve getting caught. Not that he had reason to be caught either. Not usually.
The elevator rolled to a gentle stop and dinged cheerily as the doors swept open. Jin breezed down the expanse of ugly carpet that pervaded even luxury apartment complexes until he reached door number 3506.
"Hey," he said sheepishly when Yamapi opened up. "Sorry I'm late."
His friend quirked a brow at him, and was still in the process of putting his tie on. "Actually you're on time. And since I was anticipating your usual pace, in that sense you're early. Congratulations, you may be an adult yet."
"No shit?" Jin stepped in and checked his watch again but the display still read a quarter after. His phone was the same. "Oh," he said, realization punching him right in the gut. Rosa had kept the clocks set ahead and must have changed his personal belongings to match. She was kind of a control freak; it was either her way or the highway. And, well, Jin had no choice but to hit the road after what felt like being unceremoniously dumped on the sidewalk.
"That bad?" No surprise Yamapi could tell with just that single utterance. Never mind they hadn't seen each other in over a year. Although the fact that Jin saw fit to come back to Japan after the breakup probably said a lot, too.
Jin dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, mumbling, "Whatever." He'd done most of his moping already, back in LA. Once there'd been a ring fund, and a couple days later there was a plane ticket (as well as a fee for breaking his apartment lease). That was over and done with. Jin puffed out his cheeks and injected some cheer into his tone. Probably wasn't the least bit convincing, but points for trying. "Anyway, I'll have you know there's only one true love of my life."
Yamapi threw open his arms and deadpanned, "Come. Leap into my bosom, and we'll shed manly tears."
"GROSS." Jin was unable to help laughing, gloom dissipating in the face of Yamapi's proposal. "Your unspeakable man boobs aside, what would Keiko say?"
"She'd rescue me from your vile, gold-digging clutches and take away your visitation rights," Yamapi said smugly.
Jin's eyes went wide with horror. "Keiko can keep your fat ass, but not my Raimu-chan!" He leaned over to peer around Yamapi and brightened when he saw the little girl peeking out at them from her bedroom. "Hi, Raimu-chan!"
"Who the hell is your Raimu-chan?" Yamapi muttered too low to be heard by young ears. "She probably doesn't even remember you."
"Language!" Jin hissed back, elbowing Yamapi aside to crouch down at level with his friend's daughter. If you asked him she had her mother's looks and not a bit of Yamapi's stupid face. "Of course she remembers me, don't you, Raimu-chan? I was the totally awesome guy who sang at your birthday party."
"That was her fourth birthday party. She's five now," Yamapi pointed out.
"Five already? Wow, that's a lot. Do you know how many that is?"
Raimu stared at him with big eyes, holding a fist in front of her smiling mouth. Then shyly, she thrust her hand forward with all five fingers splayed. Jin stuck his palm out too and slapped it lightly against hers, grinning ear to ear.
"Good job! You must get your brains from your mom."
Raimu giggled and high-fived him again.
"Oh my God," Yamapi groaned as if just now realizing his mistake. "When I come back you'll have brainwashed her against me. She's too innocent to know better."
Jin gathered her up in his arms and regarded her seriously. "Did you hear that? Your dad insulted you. How dare he! You know a great guy when you see him."
"It's not too late to call her usual babysitter," Yamapi warned, but then he was met with not one, but two faces of puppy-eyed sadness.
"I want Jin-niichan," Raimu said, proving she did in fact remember him.
Yamapi crumbled like a sandcastle to a pair of bullies at the beach. Jin whirled Raimu around in a victory dance.
When Yamapi finished beating his head against the wall in defeat things had settled down and both Jin and Raimu were seated at the table with cups of yogurt. Judging by the look he gave them Jin knew he was thinking: one kid babysitting another... Jin stuck his tongue out (he was twenty-nine and nine at heart), and decided not to tell Yamapi he had a red spot on his forehead, made all the more conspicuous by his combed back hair.
He didn't entirely know what Yamapi did for a living anymore. Probably wasn't allowed to know and definitely didn't want to know. Jin was sure the business card boasted something impressive and legit, and the credentials were real, but there was definitely something imperceptibly missing on the résumé. In any case, Jin didn't think he'd ever be used to things like the upscale three bedroom apartment he was crashing in for a while, but Yamapi was still Yamapi and that had nothing to do with anything else. The emergency business travel on weekends must suck, though.
"Hello?" Yamapi paused in putting on his designer Italian shoes to answer his cell's no-nonsense business ringtone. Jin made a mental note to change it to something suitably incriminating later. "Yes, I'm on my way, just leaving now in fact. There's no trouble with the flight, is there? Good. Actually, we conned some moron who's back in Japan into watching her for free. Uh-huh."
"Hey," Jin protested, frowning. He hunched down a little in his chair as if that would help hide him from whoever Yamapi was talking to. Any mutual work acquaintance of theirs was not likely to remember Jin fondly.
"Okay, fine, if you insist." Yamapi sighed and hung up.
"Who was that?" Jin asked suspiciously. The alarm grew when Yamapi aimed his phone at Jin and snapped a picture. "What's that supposed to be, my mug shot?"
Almost immediately, Yamapi's phone alerted him of a new email. "Ryo says you're as ugly as ever and you owe him money with three years' interest," he conveyed.
Relief washed over him before it was burned up by outrage. "Oh, I've got a message for him then."
"Not in front of my daughter," Yamapi said patiently-and knowingly, as Jin aborted making his rude gesture. Once he finished with his shoes, Raimu slid out of her chair to bring him his briefcase. Jin almost whimpered with how cute she was, and even Yamapi looked kind of sweet when he ruffled her hair and leaned over so she could peck him on the cheek. "Thanks for watching her for us, Jin." He had on a big, dumb grin that Jin couldn't bring himself to make fun of.
"Hey, when a friend needs a favor..."
"Yeah, you're welcome. We're not even charging you rent while you get over your 'artistic slump'." His smile faded a bit as he glanced down where Jin had dropped his bag. "Make yourself at home and all that, but is this everything you brought?"
Jin shrugged and fiddled with his spoon. "I wasn't exactly living in a high rise condo in LA. Starving artist, you know. Fu-freaking bohemian and everything."
Yamapi shook his head wonderingly. "Being able to pack up and leave just like that. I guess it suits you."
"Yeah?" He perked up. Pfft, who cared about Rosa. She was a nag, didn't like children, couldn't cook. Terrible marriage prospect. It never would have worked. "I like my freedom."
"You like attention." Yamapi looked like he was about to say more, then thought better of it. He gave his head a small shake. "So I should be back by Wednesday. Keiko might arrive sooner depending on how filming goes."
Jin wondered if there was a correlation between being successful and being secretive. "Where's the movie being shot?"
"New Zealand."
"I should've been an actor."
Yamapi looked at him very pityingly. "You couldn't act your way out of a cardboard box."
"Neither could you."
"True fact. You know who can, though?"
No, Jin thought with a ballooning sense of dread and sent Yamapi murderous telepathic vibes to not go there at any cost.
"My wife."
A whoosh of relief. Jin sagged. Then scowled. "This conversation is retarded. Go catch your plane before I'm stuck with you."
Yamapi kissed Raimu goodbye, and then audaciously blew Jin a kiss too because he was a freak like that. Jin fell out of the chair pretending to gag his brains out.
♥ || ♠
When Jin asked Raimu what she wanted to do with her newfound freedom no longer under her father's oppressive regime (in more or less those words), her immediate answer was: "Disneyland!" And so, hell, Yamapi had left him with spending money, Disneyland it was. Jin stashed things like bottles of water, sunscreen, and towels into a backpack, pulled a cap on over his head, took Raimu by her tiny hand, and hopped on the train.
The usual crush of people was pretty bad at first, but later on Jin managed to get a seat and hold Raimu safe in his lap. She wasn't a very chatty child, but when she had something she wanted to say or something she wanted him to do then she didn't hesitate. At first she wanted him to braid her hair-"the way mommy does it." This was very nearly a disaster as Jin quickly realized that the way mommy did it was also the complicated way that seemed to involve twice as many hands and/or professional technique that all girls must be born with. He couldn't even manage a respectable normal braid. He could do pigtails though, the cute, bouncy kind that sprouted from high up on either side of the head, and even that was a process of aligning them just right so they weren't lopsided. For anyone else's sake this would have been insane, but by God Raimu was going to have the straightest pigtails in all of Disneyland if he had to retie them a gazillion times.
By the time they reached the resort Jin was a self-proclaimed pigtail-tying master. Raimu's hair bounced and swayed eagerly as they crossed the pavement towards the ticket booth. Once inside the park she went still, eyes huge, a little girl overwhelmed by an immense world. Then Jin hoisted her up onto his shoulders and she erupted into delighted giggles.
"I can see Cinderella's Castle!" she exclaimed from her perch. Her hands were considerately placed on top of Jin's head, neither yanking his hair nor getting all over his face.
"Really? Where?" He could see it towering in the distance; it was pretty hard to miss. "Ah, over here?" He started walking in the opposite direction.
"No, no! That way!"
"Which way?"
"That way!" Raimu shrieked happily as he finally ambled in the right direction, carrying the princess onward towards her dreams.
There were rides and shows and more junk food than even Jin knew what to do with. Yamapi had said something about not spoiling her too much but house rules didn't apply to theme parks. Candy and caramel popcorn were the order of the day. Jin began stocking his iPhone with pictures of Raimu sticking her tongue out while brandishing a soft serve cone, posing with every character actor they came across, and tossing a coin into the wishing well at Minnie's House. There was also a minute-and-a-half video of her perched on the back of a prancing white horse, bobbing up and down along to the cheery carousel theme.
"Having fun?"
"Yeah!" Her heels kicked the sides of her mount and she gave a great big grin.
"Say hi to your daddy."
Raimu giggled and waved, the camera zooming in on puckered lips to pass along a kiss: "chu!" Then it swiveled around to show Jin, or at least a portion of his face. "Wish you were here. Not." He smirked and waggled his fingers. "Ciao."
It was a while later as they were browsing the Kingdom Treasures shop that Jin got Yamapi's text reply: "I hope you drop dead from her cute, usurper."
"LONG LIVE THE NEW KING," he sent back and pocketed his phone.
They were standing in front of several long, long shelves-more of a wall that spanned one end of the store to the other-featuring rows upon rows of Disney character plush toys. Raimu had walked up and down the entire length, considering each one. They came in various sizes: small, medium, large, and enormous. On her second pass-over she lingered in front of Minnie and almost seemed decided when a voice made her head turn.
Just some dorky-looking high school guy with his girlfriend; he was holding up Donald and saying something in that near-incomprehensible duck speech. The girl laughed and playfully smacked him. Encouraged, he went on with the lame imitation.
Emphasis on lame, and Jin tore his gaze away while swallowing the inexplicable lump in his throat. Stupid, he told himself. Just dumb ancient history. All of a sudden Jin wanted to leave.
He couldn't, because Raimu was blocking his way with a medium-sized Daisy and quizzical eyes. Jin mentally kicked himself and pasted on a smile, but that only increased her visible alarm. Okay, so even small children could read him like a picture book. Plan B was to snatch the plush doll out of her hands and stuff it back on the shelf, then stretch up on his toes to snag the enormous version and plop it in her waiting arms.
Her eyes went wide and shiny with an unspoken, Really??
The smile came more readily now as he steered her towards the cash register. She could barely see past Daisy's huge head.
"Thank you," Raimu said as they exited the shop, smiling angelically with her chubby cheek smooshed against padded felt, hugging her prize. Another picture was sent to Yamapi with the message: "replacing u in her ♥ 1 ginormous toy at a time."
Twenty-odd minutes later he received back: "AWWWWW!!"
Followed by: "But I've gotten her like 50 toys."
Jin retaliated with a picture of Raimu wearing the iconic Mouse ears (Minnie version, naturally, with the bow) and: "WELL I DO HER HAIR."
♥ || ♠
Long lines, apparently, could make even sweet little girls cranky. The last word Raimu had deigned to utter to him five minutes ago had been a curt and sullen, "No," when he asked if she wanted to find something else to do. Thus far that one little dismissal had been the worst thing she'd ever said to him and Jin fell into a bit of a sulk himself. He suspected she was in need of a nap which sounded like the best idea in the whole world to him, but the stubborn way she clung to the fence where they waited in line for Alice's Tea Party warned him not to push it. If it had been him, and his parents were trying to drag him off for his own good, he'd pitch one hell of a fit. He probably would have done just that in the past if his mom had ever taken him and his brother to Disneyland.
...But that was a pointless thought, and he pushed it out of his mind. Fairytales were well and good for Fantasyland, and for little girls dreaming of dashing princes on white horses.
Raimu swung back and forth, hands curled around the iron bars as she watched the cups spin round and round. With any luck the ride would tire her out. Then Jin could worry about how to carry a sleepy child and her giant plush doll back to the apartment. Maybe he should have gotten her something that would fit in the backpack instead-but no, the huge toy he was stuck toting around made her happy.
For now he was bored. Switching Daisy to the other arm he fished his phone out of his pocket, inspired to send his friend another obnoxious text. Never mind Yamapi hadn't responded to last one and was probably holed up in a boring meeting or whatever he did in that fancy suit. Schmoozed. Played golf. Smoked imported cigars.
Maybe Jin could give the "being successful" thing a go. Not that he wasn't happy with "doing whatever the fuck I want" but success was more likely to involve sexy cars and stunning supermodels. Besides, because of his slump he hadn't done any composing in weeks.
He nearly dropped his phone when someone bumped his arm.
"Oh, I'm sorry, excuse me." The woman ducked her head briefly, embarrassed smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Young, early- to mid-twenties, wearing casual clothes and light, natural-looking makeup; refreshingly attractive.
Jin slipped his phone back inside the wide pocket of his hoodie. "No harm done. But cutting in line, I don't know about that." Teasing rather than accusing, and it came easily. But he also noticed there was no one else with her. Who the hell rode spinning teacups all by themselves?
She laughed and rested a hand on the rail. "I'm not in line. I just wanted to be able to see my kids. I told them there was no way I was getting on those with them."
Jin's eyebrows flew up. "Kids?"
The look she sent him was both knowing and long-suffering. "I'm older than I look."
"And how old is that?" He took the bait, checking her hand in a glance. No ring.
This time she smirked, "I'll leave that up to your imagination." She then took notice of Raimu; the little girl stared back with reproach, apparently still stewing in her temper. "Yours?" she asked Jin.
"For time being. I've kidnapped her for a while." Before Jin could feel awkward about his choice of words paired with Raimu's total disregard of him, she decided she was done ignoring him and went to cling to his leg. Jin internally praised her sense of timing and tugged one of her pigtails.
The woman laughed-it had a startled sound but her eyes crinkled with mirth. "Cute. Mine are over there, the boys trying their best to make themselves sick." She rolled her eyes and emphasized boys.
Jin surveyed the dizzy array of brightly-colored teacups and found a pair of young boys. The older one was turning the wheel with manic, single-minded intensity while the younger had given up and was just clinging to the edge of the cup, alternatively exhilarated and green around the gills. If he puked like that the mess would go absolutely everywhere. Eeeeww, Jin thought, half-dreading and half-hoping it would happen.
"So what's your name, sweetie?" She was addressing Raimu, not him. Jin was almost offended, but while he knew he wasn't too shabby he had nothing on adorable little girls.
Raimu didn't answer, she just hugged Jin's leg some more. He should probably scold her for being rude but she was cute like that, damnit. Besides, he wasn't her dad. He was like the really cool, favorite uncle. Except not old. Yamapi had tried to tell her Jin was older than him, but the fact was met with all the magnificent distrust a five-year-old could muster. Best little girl.
"Looks like you've got a jealous one," the woman said with an amused smile.
Jin could barely contain the warm, fuzzy feelings tickling his insides. He beamed down at Raimu and nudged her. "Come on, Raimu-chan, say hi."
Reluctant, but in the end polite (a credit to her upbringing, not that Jin would ever say so to Yamapi's face), she detached from him and quietly said hello.
"Nice to meet you, Raimu-chan. I'm Mizuki. Say, can you introduce me to your friend here?" Mizuki's gaze lifted to meet Jin's with a conspiring gleam.
This time Raimu was more forthcoming, at least enough to apprehensively surrender a name. "...Jin-niichan."
"I see. Jin-san seems really nice."
She gave a decisive, pigtail-bouncing nod.
Mizuki sighed and cast a brief look over her shoulder where the ride was still in full-swing. "Truthfully I've always wanted a girl. You know, to dress up, play with her hair..." Self-consciously, Raimu twirled the tip of one of her pigtails. "Jin-san is very lucky."
Bad mood lifting, Raimu reached up to tug on Daisy. Jin-finding the whole exchange awkwardly endearing-let her have it and she hugged the doll proudly.
"Wow," Mizuki marveled. "He got that for you? Don't let my boys see or they'll get jealous."
Raimu buried her face in the soft plush to hide her smile.
Mizuki reached out to stroke her head. "She really is precious."
"Aa." Jin knew he had a doofy expression on his face. Whatever. It took him a moment to realize the line was moving. "Oh, uh, I guess you better find your kids."
"Right. Of course." She hastily straightened up and peered around to where the exit was.
Someone jostled him. He'd have hardly registered it-and indeed, most people would only notice the jab of a sharp elbow in their ribs-but some instincts never went away. Noticing the deft slip of agile fingers where they didn't belong, for instance.
Jin moved, but not fast enough. Other skills, it seemed, did deteriorate from disuse. He slapped a hand over his pocket, felt loose fabric where there should have been the distinct outline of his phone, and mouthed a soundless curse. Karma, a bitch? Who knew? Raising his voice he cried, "Thief!"
Heads turned this way and that. A smart pickpocket blended.
This one wasn't that smart. A ripple spread out through the crowd as someone pushed and shoved through.
"You-" Jin cut off with a choked gurgle in an effort to not blister any innocent ears. "He took my phone!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, watching in agony as the perpetrator got farther and farther away. No one tried to interfere, drawing back in alarm and keeping their kids close. Jin took several aborted steps to give chase, straining forward the way a dog would against a leash.
"Go," Mizuki urged. "I'll keep an eye on Raimu-chan. We'll wait for you here." She reached for Raimu's hand and the little girl accepted it, puzzled but unperturbed.
"Thanks," Jin let out in an explosive burst, backpack sliding down his arm to hit the pavement. "I'll be right back!" And then he was pounding ahead, squeezing through the closing gaps of the crowd. A few people commented on his rudeness and he nearly tripped across a stroller, but he kept the target in his sights.
It was someone small, definitely a kid, marked by a bright orange t-shirt. The figure wove through the throngs of people with practiced ease. Well, Jin wasn't a scrawny boy anymore and hadn't been for a while, but he'd run through plenty of busy streets in his time. Chasing wasn't exactly the same as being chased, it lacked that "OH SHIT, OH SHIT" adrenaline, but the punk had taken his phone. It was like, his second most valuable possession, after the obvious. And even if the kid had lifted something relatively useless Jin would still be after him as a matter of pride. Or something. Someone else could psychoanalyze his actions; all he knew was "mine!" with the occasional afterthought of "you fucker!"
A flash of orange veered right towards the Haunted Mansion. Jin gained a couple feet trying to cut him off. The kid broke through the line winding around the perimeter of the mansion and had actually scrambled halfway up the wall before Jin fisted a handful of loose t-shirt and yanked him down in front dozens of confused onlookers.
"Kids these days," Jin grated out for their benefit with a strained smile. Maybe they'd think he was reining in an out of control sibling, but just in case he got a better grip on a flailing, skinny arm and hauled out of there. "You little shit," he hissed under his breath, panting a bit but not completely winded. He wasn't sure if he should feel pleased or dismayed by the fact.
The barrage of words that came at him was also hushed, but definitely not Japanese. Jin stopped short-they were out of sight of the people in line at least-and got a good look at the pickpocket. He revised his earlier hope: no way could they be mistaken as related. The boy was young, maybe ten at a stretch, with brown skin and a mop of wiry black curls. His dark eyes seemed too big for his face, and part of that had to do with the lean way his skin clung to his bones. Jin's hand was huge where it clamped around a thin wrist. His clothes were dirty and ratty, and the smell-well, it wasn't "I'm a rebel who isn't going to bathe for a day or two because that'll show my parents!" If he even had parents.
Great. Jin sighed heavily and ignored whatever language the kid was gibbering in; he could guess the meaning and interpret the emphatic gestures. All variants of: "I'm innocent! What do you want with me? I wasn't doing anything!" The pleas of the guilty never really changed. The boy tried his damnedest to wriggle free but it wasn't happening.
A familiar word slipped out as Jin searched all his pockets. "Pervert."
"Oh, gross, don't even." Jin snorted and withdrew his hand-now holding his phone, along with a wallet. He kept what was his and flipped the wallet open one-handed, maintaining his stubborn hold on the would-be thief. Credit cards under the name Ichikawa Masayuki, some crumpled receipts, a furtively-creased working girl's card, and several thousand yen. Unhesitatingly, he peeled off a few bills and slapped them into the boy's upturned palm. "Get out of here before security comes after your skinny butt. People like you and-you stand out here."
He didn't have to say it twice; once Jin let go the kid took off again. Maybe he'd obtain another wallet or another phone on the way out. Telling him it was bad to steal would have been a waste of breath, and turning him over to the cops or what passed for child welfare here... Jin turned his back on the uncomfortable thoughts. Not his problem.
He kept Ichikawa's wallet-to drop off at the Lost and Found later, of course.
♥ || ♠
The recovery of his property hadn't taken long, but the line for the ride had definitely shifted when he got back. Jin followed the trail of people, circling around to the entrance and then to the exit when he didn't see Mizuki or Raimu. Still no sign of them as people poured out of the silly teacups and migrated towards the gate on dizzy feet. Jin spun and stalked around the perimeter again, keeping an eye out for that gigantic Daisy plush, for a single young woman and a little girl in pigtails. And two boys, he remembered as, changing course towards the nearest restroom.
Two boys came out of the building as Jin approached and he stared, unable to recall if the faces were the same, but the younger one did have that pale grimace of just-tossed-all-the-contents-of-my-stomach. They were being led by a squat woman who fussed with wiping their faces with paper towels.
"But moooom..."
Suddenly nauseous himself, Jin looked around but didn't see any other pair of boys of similar ages in sight. No Raimu. No Mizuki.
He dashed back to Alice's Tea Party, stomach churning in a way that had nothing to do with motion sickness. Maybe they'd missed each other. Maybe-or maybe Mizuki had lied about the boys and was one of those crazy, desperate women who stole babies from hospitals. Small children at theme parks were kind of close to that. It was like shopping for the cutest, sweetest kids.
Jin skidded to a halt with his heart thundering, almost blocking out the sound of his name being called over the PA system.
"Would Akanishi Jin please report to the Main Street House located at the World Bazaar. Again, that is Akanishi Jin, please report to the Main Street House located at the World Bazaar. We have something here that belongs to you."
♥ || ♠
Jin all but collapsed at the front desk, ignoring the outraged protests from the people in line he'd pushed aside. They could rot. "Where is she?"
The clerk leveled a disapproving frown on him. "Sir, these people have been waiting patiently-"
"Where's Raimu? You called me, I'm here, where is she?"
"Sir," the woman began, but a glance at Jin's face and the way he clung to the front desk-someone would have to pry him off-made her change her mind. Efficiency won over fairness. Huffing, she crisply asked, "Name, please?"
"Akanishi."
Another young woman scurried off to the back room and only then did Jin graciously move aside for the next person in line. He leaned on the desk, drumming his fingers impatiently while trying to tell his heart to calm down. It didn't want to cease its frantic hammering, at least not until the woman came out with her arms full of humongous plush toy and a backpack, but no Raimu.
Then it just stopped. Jin stilled, every inch of him, and as the items were placed on the desk he stared hard at the doorway waiting for a little girl to appear in it. He didn't care if she just materialized, teleported, as long as she had those bouncy, perfectly aligned pigtails. "Wait, what?" He'd missed the first part of what the woman was saying to him.
"Your friend left these things here and said he had to go."
"Friend," Jin repeated, confused. "Mizuki?"
"I'm sorry, the man didn't say his name."
What the hell. "Did he have a little girl with him? What did he look like?"
"No, sir." His alarm must have been catching because her eyes widened. "I-I can't really remember, there wasn't anything that stood out... he was well-dressed, I suppose, for a theme park. Is something wrong?"
Ffffff- Jin grabbed Daisy and turned it all around, but there was nothing unusual or out of place, all the seams were intact. He unzipped the backpack next, rifled through the contents. Nothing missing, but there wasn't anything valuable in it to begin with. Something new, though: a folded sheet of paper that Jin withdrew with trembling fingers.
It was plain white everyday paper, sporting only a couple lines of typeface print.
We have Raimu-chan. Cooperate and you'll get her back.
Inform the police and there will be consequences.
"Sir?"
The note offered a date, time, and place. And an amount. Jin shoved it inside the backpack again, zipped the flaps, and slung it over his shoulder. He grabbed Daisy by her big, purple bow. "Thanks," he tossed back on automatic, and pushed his way out of the building.
♥ || ♠
He left Daisy on the train. Originally he meant to take it back to the apartment, but the thought of returning there without Raimu made his conscience squirm with guilt. As if security would see him come in without that little girl clinging to his hand and immediately come down on him with questions. Realistically, of course, they wouldn't notice or suspect a thing. Somehow that was just as bad.
Jin emptied the contents of the backpack on his way to the bank, leaving the junk in a pile of someone else's trash. Then he emptied his account, not that it held much, and the weight of his worth wasn't much heavier than what he'd been carrying before. Second-best thing to useless, then. It covered a bit more than half of the ransom. The kidnappers hadn't asked for a whole lot, not like the millions that splashed across the headlines on TV. You’d think only the rich and affluent ever had their kids held for ransom. Most cases were simply never reported. This one certainly wasn't going to be, and not just because of the threat.
Yamapi could have afforded a couple million, and would have, if Jin said anything. He nervously turned on his phone, half-fearing a call or message from his friend the moment it was on. Jin was a shit actor who couldn't pretend things were fine, although radio silence on his end was probably equally suspicious. Hopefully Yamapi would assume his battery was dead and never have to know a thing. At least not until later.
For now, though, Jin punched in a number. When the other line was picked up he pitched his voice in a wheedling whine, "Hey, Josh. Do me a favor? I'll pay you back..."
It wasn't the first time he'd asked for such favors from certain friends, monetary or otherwise. Occasionally the requests were truly bizarre. No one asked questions; it was usually better not to know.
Piece of cake, Jin thought after making a few more calls and stops, collecting what he needed until the backpack was bulging. Dusk was starting to settle over the city, streetlights blinking on and signs going up in neon. The exchange was noon tomorrow. Jin thought about crashing at a friend's place and wouldn't have hesitated several years ago, but that was several years ago. A lifetime ago. Never mind that it had been the sort of life that went untouched by time, as evidenced by the effortless way he could pick the pieces of it back up. But they were just pieces, not guaranteed to make a whole and he wasn't at all eager to put them together again. He already knew what the picture looked like.
Jin's face was lit by an orange glow as he cupped a hand around the tiny flame under his cigarette. The diamonds on his wrist sparkled. "Damn," he muttered half-heartedly, the word carried along with a plume of smoke. The watch was worth way more than the ransom demanded. He'd sell it in an instant if he needed to, if it meant getting Raimu back. Hell, it'd even be fitting, maybe good for him. But he also could have pawned it anytime in the last four years, particularly when he'd been barely making his rent, and it wasn't as if the thought never occurred to him. He just never went through with it. There was always some other way.
Always other ways. He could come clean to Yamapi, and after Yamapi annihilated him the money would be paid easily. He could disregard the threat and go to the police. He could disregard the ransom and go in alone like a goddamn superhero.
Jin nearly choked on the smoke-bitter laugh that scraped out of his throat. There was something under his skin, close to the surface, a pulse running quick and electric through his veins that wouldn't be ignored. For the first time since he set foot on Japanese soil again he felt at home.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ," he scoffed to himself, at himself, and ground his cigarette out beneath his toe. Some flames were easier to extinguish.
He caught the train back towards the empty, extravagant apartment waiting for him. Figured at least the money would be safest there. Plus, like all the filthy rich, Yamapi kept a well-stocked liquor cabinet.
♥ || ♠
The sun was contrary today, shining down merrily upon Tokyo with nary a cloud in sight. There were probably thousands of people enjoying the warm, early spring weather; housewives throwing windows open and students gazing longingly outside during class. Jin, on the other hand, wished for overcast skies to hide his skulking form as he made his way through winding streets of the shitamachi neighborhood. The buildings here leveled off, no more than a couple stories high, making him feel even more exposed to the sun's watchful, glaring eye.
He wasn't hung-over, that would have been dumb even for him. But he wasn't anything close to well-rested, either. Hitting some of Yamapi's single malt scotch had failed to take the edge off, instead having more of an opposite effect that left him honed and ready for the exchange.
He'd had to ask a friendly old woman for directions but checking his watch he figured he'd be on time. Maybe even early. His fingers tightened on the strap of the backpack digging into his shoulder and he started to jog down the gentle slope of the street.
It wasn't long before Jin found the site without having to check the address. Abandoned auto shop was almost as obvious as abandoned warehouse. Sheets of rusting metal clung like patchwork to the walls of the building, its single garage door graffiti-ed over. Raimu-chan better not get tetanus in this place, geez. Jin checked up and down the street, then stepped up to the door and raised the back of his hand to knock.
And froze with his knuckles inches from the door as something thudded behind it. He waited, and the sound came again, sharper, followed by scuffling on the ground. Bending close to put his ear near the door he heard a low curse, another dull thump, and finally nothing. Well, wasn't that curious-and alarming, because Raimu was in there. Jin grabbed the knob, took a steady breath (for Jin that was as much as he ever looked before he leapt), and yanked.
"Oh, shi-!" He yelped and scrambled out of the way. The body hit the ground at his feet; male with floppy bleached hair, and several facial piercings that glinted wetly in an explosion of blood around his nose and mouth. Jin prodded a limp arm with the toe of his boot and it moved-was dragged, rather, back into the building.
Jin's eyes followed the body to a pair of leather-encased hands gripping the unlucky guy's ankles. Up to a flash of lean biceps that disappeared under rolled up dark jacket sleeves, filled out shoulders, mussed black hair. The face was lowered, intent on the task at hand, but Jin could recognize him by his cheekbones for crying loud. By the tips of his fingers peeking out from the fingerless gloves, every other short nail painted black. By the efficient way he yanked and dragged until the body was fully inside along with several other men, some of them groaning and whimpering as they rolled miserably on the dusty auto shop floor.
When Kame straightened up the look he sent Jin was one of sour annoyance. "You're early." He casually stepped on someone's back as he made his way over to Jin.
"What-" was all Jin could get out before Kame's hand covered his mouth. Leather, sweat, and blood flooded Jin's senses, made his breath come fast and his stomach flip-flop. A light push was all that was needed to force him to take a stumbling step backwards, inhaling desperately for air.
Then the door swung shut in his face. The lock clicked as it was turned. Jin blinked disbelievingly at it.
"Hey. Hey!" He jiggled the knob. Kicked the door hard enough to make it rattle on its rusty hinges, but it held. Jin battered on it noisily with his fist. "KAMENASHI, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"
No response, of course. Jin tch'ed and went down on one knee in front of the door, fingers slipping into his boot and drawing out the weathered case that held his lock picks. It was a set he made himself from bits of thin road sign metal, making for a colorful array of STOP-red, CAUTION-yellow, and NO TRESPASSING-white. He grinned at his own cleverness even now. This was another skill that hadn't been left by the wayside, as he'd proven last night when he broke into Yamapi's liquor cabinet. And at various other times over the years. It came in handy, all right?
He eyed the lock with an air of disdain. It was a simple pin tumbler as old and worn as the rest of the building; he was mildly offended Kame would even bother. The tension wrench slid into the bottom of the keyhole and Jin applied light pressure in a clockwise direction. Then his short hook pick worked its magic on the pins. Click... click... click... one after another they were raised to shear until all five were set and the cylinder turned, quick and easy. An amateur could have gotten that one, but the electric thrill of success was always a welcome feeling; it kick-started something awake and aware inside him. Jin opened the door again, this time sans falling body.
Kame was still there, crouched down and checking someone's pockets. He didn't look up but commented mildly, "You still keep your picks?"
"Sentimental value," Jin replied, almost flippant as he slipped them back into their case which was then returned to the sheath inside his left boot. The right concealed a different surprise; the kind with three inches of stainless steel.
"Sentimental." Kame repeated the word, making it flash silver-edged against black matte finish. "Just the word I'd use. In fact it's perfect for someone who's retired."
Jin's lip curled but he grabbed onto his self-control with both hands and held on. Forced his gaze elsewhere, anywhere but Kame. The interior of the shop was much the same as the exterior, rust and graffiti spanning the walls and dust motes swirling in beams of sunlight through chinks in the roof. There was a backdoor. There was an empty office. There were tables shoved up against the walls and overturned buckets to serve as stools. But aside from them, the punks strewn on the floor, and rats and cockroaches nothing else stirred in the building.
Kame spoke up before Jin could give voice to the question and make the truth horribly real. Quieter, claws sheathed, he rifled through a man's wallet without taking anything and said, "She was already gone when I arrived. We're looking."
Jin let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Motherfuck," he bit out succinctly. He began to pace, kicking a guy's legs out of his way, dragging a hand through his hair and tugging as if that would help him think straight. Kame was here. Why was Kame here? Why was Kame here? "So-wait, does Yamapi know?"
Kame spared him a withering glance. "You're still in one piece, so no. But after this he might be informed. Besides, he's not stupid and you can't avoid him any longer."
Jin dismissed Kame's accurate reading of his actions with the ease of habit. He also chose to ignore his impending dismemberment at the hands of a wrathful father. His brow furrowed and he self-consciously adjusted the band of his wristwatch when his thoughts snagged on the broader implications. "And how did you guys know? I'm not, like, being monitored am I?"
Kame's only response to that was icy silence. That was a no, then.
Jin threw the backpack down. He was just getting warmed up. "And last time I checked hide-and-seek wasn't part of paying a ransom. What's the deal here?"
Kame straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to Jin with a look that was only half annoyance. There was also a fair amount of disgust, and Jin took an unconscious step back. "Stay out of this, Akanishi. You can't pick and choose. Spare me your guilty baggage and get lost, this doesn't concern you anymore."
"I'm not-"
"Remember how well it went last time?"
Jin blanched. His clenched fists trembled, and he was a nanosecond away from stalking up to Kame and grabbing his lapels and shaking that sneer from his face, softening the hard, disdainful twist of his mouth. In that brief, tangled moment, he wanted to punch him. For a crazed instant he wanted to kiss him. Both were deeply ingrained responses set beneath skin and muscle and into the marrow of his bones.
But with the effect of a tripped alarm, he was warned off. Self-preservation mode kicked him in the ribs and left a bruising ache, reminding him with every blood-swelled thump in his chest. In a jerky motion Jin bent over and snatched up the backpack, slinging it violently over his shoulder. It hit his back but he didn't rise. His eyes were caught on the slightly rounded corner peeking out of a man's shirt pocket. White with a splotch of red.
Jin slid it free and stared at the familiar face card
The King of Hearts. The Suicide King. And looking the part, too.
"Kamenashi," he began. Stuttered. Didn't resist as the card was plucked from his numb fingers. His pads remained dry, no wet residue. The blood hadn't come from any of these louts. "Kamenashi."
Kame didn't seem inclined to grace him with a response. The card disappeared inside his jacket and then he turned to go. Just like that.
Jin grabbed his arm with a hiss that better suited a wounded animal. "Kamenashi. That is my card. You can't tell me I'm not involved-what the fuck is going on?"
Kame didn't try to shake him off, just gave him a baleful, straightforward glare. "Could you be any more of an egoist? Everything isn't always about you-no, shut up, fine. Listen. We've been working on them for months. Whenever we go in for the kill the real players go to ground and we only get the cannon fodder. They know enough about us to leave juvenile taunts so there's been a card at every site." Jin's grip tightened on his wrist, digging into the fine bones there. Kame finally grimaced, reached around the back of Jin's neck as if to caress but instead took him by the scruff and shook. "It's random, you paranoid lunatic. They don't know that much."
Jin let go. He swatted Kame's arm away as an afterthought. "That's still way too much for comfort. And how come you're not a neurotic basketcase over it?"
"Unlike some people, I can cope under pressure."
One jab deserved another. Jin took a swing. Kame clearly expected it; deflected with his open palm and brought the other up in a closed fist. Jin didn't remember him being that fast. Nor did he remember much else after the raised knuckle of Kame's middle finger connected precisely with his temple.
Part 2