Sequence of Upsets: A Heisei Kumi Fanfic (6/23)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Keito/Shoon (Shoto?), with some side Ariyama and Chiitaro
Rating: R, for violence and dark themes
Genre: Slice of life/Angst
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: Keito has been in the Heisei Kumi for nearly 2 years now. He has a wonderful boyfriend, and he's become a strong fighter and an important member of the Kumi. Life has been good, but life as a Yakuza can never stay peaceful for long. This is a direct sequel to my first Heisei Kumi ficMy New Family. This fic may be confusing if you haven't read that one, which you can find here. This fic takes place 8ish months after My New Family ends, so...yeah. I hope you like it!
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Keito took the distance between their residences at a light jog, his bangs bouncing in his eyes, and as he climbed the stairs to Shoon’s apartment he felt anticipation buzzing in his chest. He took a quick moment to catch his breath before knocking on the door. It opened to reveal Shoon standing there in nothing but an old pair of ratty jeans that hung low on his hips and a black silk tie, tied professionally around his pale neck. His white chest, scarred impressively from his time with the Kumi, was muscled, arms strong, and though it was a sight Keito had seen before, it still struck something low in his stomach. Shoon looked up at him, his big doe eyes looking innocent for one moment, but when he opened his lips his tone was anything but.
"Come inside." Shoon pivoted, revealing his tattooed back, the huge image of the sun, rising over a small town still striking, and he turned back into his apartment. Keito stepped over the threshold, and he had barely gotten the door shut before Shoon had him up against the wall, lips on his throat, and Keito inhaled sharply in shock. Shoon pulled away for a bit, immediately checking Keito's face, his gaze sweeping over it, affection mixing with the passion he held there.
"Your bruises are looking a lot better."
"You...you're not mad?" Keito wrapped his arms around Shoon’s hips, letting himself slip some fingers into the waistband of his jeans, and when he wasn't met with the feeling of elastic, he realized with a jolt that Shoon wasn't wearing any underwear. Oh. He blushed a bit at the realization, and Shoon grinned mischievously when he realized what was going through Keito's head.
"No." He murmured, crashing their lips together, and Keito responded to the kiss at once, passion flowing between them as Shoon pressed him up against the wall, fingers flying over the buttons on his shirt. When Shoon broke the kiss Keito gulped for air, chest heaving, and Shoon ran his fingers across the three long scars on his torso. They were still bright pink against his pale skin, stark reminders of the last time he had nearly died. Shoon leaned down, kissing Keito's bare chest, and when he returned to his full stature Keito cupped his boyfriends face, leaning in to kiss him but stopping right before their lips connected, the words falling out of his mouth.
"I love you." Time froze, and for a second he thought Shoon was about to cry, but then the young lawyer's expression changed completely, and he grinned mischievously, pulling away from Keito, backing down the hall toward his bedroom door, and with a surprisingly immature giggle he said
"You will after this." Keito's mouth went dry, and he asked
"So...we're still sleeping together?" Shoon stopped his retreat, losing the flirty act and returning to his serious self for a moment.
"There's no point in stopping, besides, if I had known you were a minor before, our first time would have been tonight, so..." He paused, loosening his tie, and after a moment he said
"You coming?" Keito nodded, pulling his shirt from his shoulders and casting it aside in a wad before following Shoon to the bedroom.
His birthday celebration was...amazing. But after it had ended and they had gone to bed, despite how tired he was he couldn't fall asleep. He felt something nagging at the back of his throat. A weird, half conscious concern that, as he lay there half under Shoon’s bare chest, slowly brought itself to light. It had been the way Hikaru had looked at him, so frantic. He wasn't sitting up waiting for him, was he? Hikaru had almost always kept a close eye on him. He'd make sure he knew where Keito was nearly every day. Yuto figured it was because of the way that when any of them went missing they always turned up bloody and bruised, and since Keito was the newest he was considered the weakest link. Recently, Hikaru'd been more lax, but...
The mental image of Hikaru sitting up on the couch, staring at the clock, a small frown on his lips caused Keito to untangle himself from Shoon's sheets, the movement waking his boyfriend. Shoon had been laying on his stomach, hair in his eyes, his bare back muscled, his tattoo still impressive despite how dark it was. He shifted, and Keito immediately felt embarrassed.
"Sorry! Sorry, go back to sleep." He whispered, but Shoon blinked up at him.
"What're you doing? Come back to bed." He sounded confused, and he reached out for Keito, hand catching on his shoulder. Keito nearly did fall back into the mattress, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, but he forced himself to stand, searching out in the dark room for his clothes.
"I need to go back home." He told Shoon, and Shoon moaned a little in protest, but he sat up, and groggily said
"Alright you sexy beast, where did I fling your underwear?" Keito blinked over at him in surprise at the flirty phrasing, but then he realized that Shoon was literally still half asleep, and he wasn't actually paying attention to the words falling from his lips. He grinned, wrapping his arms around Shoon’s shoulders from behind, feeling the ridges of uneven and knotted skin where scars were, and he planted a kiss on his shoulder, murmuring
"I love you." Shoon stilled.
"God, I love you too." His words were tender. He took Keito's hand, giving it a tight squeeze, and after a quiet moment they got up, Shoon slipping on a pair of sweatpants, and together they found all of Keito's clothes in the dark. He stood just inside the front door buttoning up his shirt, and once he had finished Shoon wrapped his arms around him in a long, warm hug. In Shoon’s arms he always managed to feel safe, which was something that amazed him. Something that he cherished. Once they had broken apart he pulled open the door, stepping outside into the cool April night, and he leaned forward for a quick kiss, murmuring
"Goodbye, Shoon." Shoon nodded, and Keito turned to go, but Shoon lurched forward suddenly, as if remembering something.
"Oh, and Keito..." Keito stopped, turning to look at him. "Happy birthday." Keito smiled, nodded, and took off down the stairs, into the abandoned streets. He checked his watch in the light of the moon. It was nearly three in the morning. He was tired, body exhausted, the night breeze chilly through his shirt, and he was hoping that he was crazy, that when he got home he'd find Hikaru asleep in his own bedroom. His hopes were dashed however when he pushed open the front door to find Hikaru sprawled out on the couch, head leaning against the back at an awkward angle, asleep.
Playing cards littered the coffee table, and from the arrangement of the cards it looked like a bunch of them had sat up playing poker. He glanced back down at Hikaru. Should he wake him up, or let him sleep? While considering this question he leaned down, picking up all of the cards one by one. He was just reaching for the eight of spades when his foot caught on the coffee table and he fell to the floor with a thunk. He heard Hikaru bolt awake somewhere above him, his housemate muttering curses under his breath. Keito moaned a bit at the rug burn he felt from crashing his knees into the carpet, and he glanced up to see Hikaru pulling himself to his feet. When Hikaru caught sight of him he scrunched his face up, sighing.
"You woke me up." He complained.
"Sorry."
"What the hell were you doing?" Hikaru asked, pulling Keito to his feet. Keito showed him the stack of cards.
"Picking up."
"Go to bed, leave that for someone else." Hikaru ordered. Not really knowing what to do, and exhausted, Keito just nodded and together they went up the stairs. On the way up Hikaru bumped into him from behind, their bodies pressing together for a moment, and Hikaru grumbled a bit that Keito wasn't moving fast enough, but soon they were up the stairs. Once at the top Hikaru broke away from Keito, and much less gruffly than before he said
"Good night." Keito could have almost sworn he was smiling.
"Good night." Keito said back, wandering down the hall to his own room, climbing the ladder to his bed and falling asleep without even changing out of his clothes.
He woke to something hard and painful digging into his hip. Confused and not yet fully cognitive he rolled over, hand digging in his pocket. He pulled the thing out and examined it, blinking the sleep from his eyes. It was a large butterfly knife, the two sides closed by a red ribbon tied in a lopsided bow. There, on the pieces that opened up was an engraving. Okamoto Keito -20 one of them read. The other said April 1, 2013. It was beautiful. Where had it come from? As he slowly began to wake up properly he realized. Hikaru must have slipped it into his pocket late that night after he'd come home.
He rolled it between his fingers, feeling the weight of it. His first knife. He slipped off the bow, carefully pulling the pieces of the handle in opposite directions, revealing the blade. It was bigger than most of the knives he'd seen the others carry, omitting of course Yamada's katana and that overgrown blade Ryutaro sometimes carried-too short to be a sword and too long to be a pocket knife. It resembled Inoo's personal knife in design-Keito remembered seeing his housemate use a butterfly knife similar to this one in raids. Perhaps Inoo could teach him how to use it. It was sharp, the blade menacing looking, and after examining it and testing the weight-it was heavier than he'd expected-he slipped the latch back across the two halves of the handle, sealing the blade safely inside. Finally he got out of bed, taking a shower and changing into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, slipping the knife in his pocket and heading downstairs for breakfast.
Upon arriving downstairs he found the five oldest crowded around the near side of the dinner table, talking seriously in low voices. At his appearance they all looked up from their work, surprised.
"Didn't expect to be seeing you." Takaki said, sounding thoroughly confused as to why Keito was at home instead of at Shoon's apartment wrapped around his boyfriend. Hikaru just frowned at the group, not even acknowledging Keito's presence and pointedly pulling the others attention back to their meeting. Keito just smiled at them and waved at the two others hanging out in the living room. Yuto and Yamada were sprawled out on the couch, a chessboard between them, but they paused in their game to offer him an explanation as to the plotting going on at the table.
"They're convinced the Wakaba're gonna attack soon. They're trying to come up with some sort of strategy or something." Yuto announced across the joined rooms, his words followed with a harsh snap.
"Shut up!" Chinen had just emerged from his office, and he was glaring at Yuto, eyes slightly bloodshot. Yuto was taken aback, but he nodded.
"Yes Kumi-cho, I'm sorry-"
"No just...don't talk. My head..." Chinen grumbled, and their littlest member buried his face in his hands, a small whining noise pitting itself in the back of his throat. When he lifted his head Keito noticed the dark circles carved out under his eyes, and the cringe waiting in the wings on his dry lips. He looked almost sick, his tiny frame pale and slow moving, but not wanting to imply that their leader was weak in any way Keito didn't ask if he was okay or offer him anything and instead made for the fridge, digging around inside for the eggs. It was then that he noticed that his birthday champagne was no longer on the shelf he had placed it, or anywhere else for that matter, and as he straightened up and turned back into the room where Chinen was returning back to his office with his hands around a cup of coffee it all suddenly fell into place.
Hungover. Their Kumi-cho must have drunk Keito's birthday champagne. That was unusual. Chinen never drank ever-he'd never even shown an interest in alcohol. But had Chinen drunk alone? None of the others seemed to have any symptoms of a hangover, all talking quietly with each other; perfect pictures of health aside from the scars and fading bruises. Keito contemplated all of this as he made himself some eggs, eating them scorching hot straight out of the pan. Once he had finished his breakfast he tapped on Inoo's shoulder, pulling his attention away from whatever Daiki had been saying.
"Um, I was hoping you could teach me how to use this..." He pulled his knife from his pocket, and Inoo glanced down at it for a moment before nodding and waving Keito away with a quick
"Later." Nodding, Keito left them to their discussion, and joined Yamada and Yuto over on the couch, watching as slowly but surely Yamada destroyed Yuto's little fictitious army, eventually capturing his king for the victory. With a pout Yuto handed over 1,000 ¥, and they put the game away. Yamada tucked the money into his back pocket, snatching his katana from where it had been laying next to him on the couch and heading for the front door, talking as he went.
"Since I won you have to spar with me, yeah? You can come too Keito." Keito and Yuto shared a look before shrugging and following their friend out the door into the alley. Yamada tucked his actual sword into a corner, keeping his sheath and gripping it as if it were a katana, facing the two of them. After a moment he said
"Attack me." They both jumped at their housemate at the same time, and Yamada swung out with his makeshift blade, spinning to keep them a bay. The fight was long, lasting over an hour, and despite being smaller than both of them, as well as being out numbered, Yamada was probably winning, the extra reach his katana gave him perpetuated by his amazing mastery of his weapon of choice. Keito was starting to get tired, his limbs aching, but then Yamada whacked him on the thigh with his sheath, and ouch! A stinging wave of pain radiated from the area Yamada had struck, and Keito's wandering mind snapped back to focus, the pain bringing with it a rush of adrenaline, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder he pivoted, throwing a punch at his attacker. As he whipped around he realized in a split second that it was an unsuspecting Inoo he was defending himself against. Panic shot through him like a bullet, and he redirected his punch at the last second, barely missing Inoo's face, the muscles in his arm straining from the effort of trying to redirect the force he had put into the swing. Inoo didn't even blink, he just let his hand drop from Keito's shoulder, saying
"We finished the meeting. You wanted my help, yeah?" Keito's heart was still racing, and he gasped out
"Sorry-shit. Are you okay?" Inoo raised his eyebrows.
"Keito you didn't even hit me."
"I know but I nearly did, and-" Inoo was grinning amusedly at him.
"Keito, I'm Daiki's best friend. I've been hit with unexpected friendly fire for years, and he's got less of a conscious than you do. Trust me; I can take whatever the hell you decide to send my way." Keito took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead, and he sighed, relief washing through him, relaxing his muscles. Inoo just shook his head in amusement.
"Damn."
"What?"
"You're still so...I dunno...soft. I don't get how you can be the Oyabun's son and still be such a fuckin' sweetheart." Keito didn't respond, just giving Inoo a little half smile. Inoo got serious.
"You wanted me to teach you something?" Keito nodded, pulling the knife from his pocket.
"I got this for my birthday, and I thought it was a lot like yours-I want to know how to use it properly." Inoo stretched out his hand for it and Keito passed it to him, Inoo taking it in his palm and examining it closely, fingers brushing over the engraving and the smooth metal of the double handles. He flipped the safety clasp off with his thumb, and with a flick of his wrist he spun the knife into the air, blade falling out and becoming exposed as it twisted, and Keito flinched and shied away, the knife spiraling through the empty air catching him by surprise and making him very nervous. Inoo however plucked it out of the air, and with a twist of his digits both parts of the handle were wrapped safely in the curl of his thin fingers, and he flipped one piece up, releasing it and with the sound of metal on metal it shut, and he slipped the clasp deftly over the handle pieces, shutting it and examining it again.
"This one’s a bit longer than the standard; heavier too. Most of these types have these holes cut out of them on the handle-" He dug into his pocket, getting out his own butterfly knife to show him as an example. Sure enough there were little circular holes carved out of the handle pieces. "-I think that's to make it lighter or something. I don't really know; but yours is solid, and it’s a lot heavier than mine. It's really nicely made though." He handed it back to Keito. "I think it's a custom job." Keito took his knife back, staring down at it in awe. Custom? He'd known Hikaru had gotten it engraved, but to have had it completely custom made...
"So what did you want to learn exactly?" Inoo asked.
"Um...how to use this without hurting myself or messing up the hinges or something. I dunno. Some tricks or whatever, I guess." Keito spoke train of thought, not really knowing what it was specifically that he wanted. Inoo grinned.
"Tricks?" He said, and with that he threw his knife up into the air, the blade and handle parts twisting and twirling around him in a deadly dance as with one flick of his wrist or twist of his fingertips whenever it came down would have the blade soaring through the air above them. He continued this for a minute or two, even catching it behind his back at one point, causing Keito to flinch, before with one last flick it was closed and safely restored to his clenched fist.
"So, there're some tricks for ya." Inoo said, giggling a little. Keito let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and he looked down at his knife, feeling all of a sudden very unworthy of the weapon.
"How about I learn to open and close it." He suggested. Inoo nodded, and they got to work; Inoo showed him how to flick his wrist, sending one part of the handle cartwheeling around his hand before wrapping his digits around the piece, locking it into place and exposing the blade. Keito and Inoo worked on it for hours, Inoo's patience wearing thin as Keito repeatedly failed, often cutting himself, the drying blood sticky, smeared all along the handle. The rest of their housemates had all wandered off, leaving the two of them alone in the alley, Keito repeatedly flicking his blade open and closed, pinching his fingers and fumbling the knife, even dropping it a few times to his great embarrassment. Eventually though, Keito managed it consistently, the parts of the knife whirring out like wings before he deftly snatched them up, ready. He grinned at his success, and Inoo nodded, pushing off from where he'd been leaning against the exterior wall.
"Good job. That's it for today, yeah?" Inoo said, and Keito nodded.
"Thank you so much Inoo." Inoo just responded with a nod to Keito's bloody hands and a quick
"Go clean yourself up." Keito followed Inoo back into the house, carefully cleaning all of the little cuts decorating his hands and washing the dried tacky blood from his knife, digging it out of the engraving and all of the little nooks and crannies, and checking the hinges before drying it off and returning it to his pocket, the weight of it against his thigh something he'd have to learn to get used to.
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