Sequence of Upsets: A Heisei Kumi Fanfic (23/23)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Keito/Shoon (Shoto?), with some side Ariyama and Chiitaro
Rating: R, for violence and dark themes
Warnings: Character Death
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 fic My 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!
A/N: This is the last chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it!
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22
It was a little after lunchtime when the rest of the household came by. They sat and stood around the room, and Shoon woke, talking with them for nearly an hour. They talked about lots of pointless things, interspersed with the occasional question about his cancer. Shoon answered them all honestly, and his responses were short; not just to the cancer questions, to everything. He only spoke when directly spoken to, and he'd cut his sentences off once the listener understood what it was he was trying to say, as opposed to what he had managed to get out. He kept a grip on Keito's hand, often glancing back over at him, as if assuring himself that Keito was still there; that he hadn't disappeared. This only lasted however, until his eyelids drooped, and he fell back asleep right in the middle of listening to Daiki attempting to divert the conversation away from his and Yamada's five year anniversary plans; as the special day was the day after next. Daiki and Yamada seemed to have 'made up' in light of Shoon's illness, and they were practically glued to each others' side as they stood there in the hospital.
They all stayed for a few hours after Shoon had fallen asleep, but then it was getting to be around dinner time, and Shoon wasn't moving or showing any signs of caring that they were there at all, and in groups of twos and threes they all left. As they did they all got silent, and the grief and shock they had been so successfully covering up in front of Shoon made its way onto their faces and into their body posture. They all dropped any smiles they had; those that had lovers clinging to them for mutual support, and some shed a tear or two, others practically running from the room. Keito barely noticed his housemates. Shoon had not once let go of his hand, and he scooted his chair up closer to the bed, laying his head down on the edge, snuggled up against Shoon's hips, not wanting him to feel alone, and not wanting to leave.
He must have fallen asleep, because he was jolted awake to the sound of the door shutting, and when he sat up he realized that the sun had changed positions; it was now nearly completely set, just a few last rays of light gracing the sky. His eyes swept over Shoon. He hadn't moved. In reflex his line of vision went straight to the heart monitor, the little green line still jumping evenly, and he felt his immediate panic wain, and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, yawning. He readjusted himself in the chair, and he gave Shoon's hand a light squeeze. I love you.
He sat there late into the night, keeping vigil, his stomach growling, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day, and as he sat his mind wandered. This-him being here this late-surely wasn't standard procedure. Hikaru or Shoon or perhaps just their reputation, the fact that this was their territory must be allotting them special treatment. He was grateful. He was starving. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since his last meal. His belly felt hollow, and for a moment he considered going out and getting food, but he dismissed the thought. He didn't want to leave and then risk not being able to get back in until visiting hours opened up the next day. He got lost in fragmented, half formed thoughts, his emotions manifesting inside of him without words to describe themselves, and he wandered inside his own mind for a while, Shoon's pulse manifesting itself in the beeping of the monitor, a constant assurance that he could let his mind wander.
A yawn broke him out of his silent contemplation, and he checked his watch, its crystal face gleaming in the moonlight now pouring in through the window on the far side of the room. It was nearly ten o'clock. He yawned again, his eyelids heavy. It wasn't late, but it had been a long day. Sure, he'd gotten a nap, but he was tired, and with the lack of food his blood sugar was low, his energy level very small. He pulled his chair up as close to the bed as he could, resting his head on Shoon's belly, gripping the bed sheets. Shoon's scent, like flowers, and honey, and tea, greeted him and he felt a sense of security settle in his stomach, as if on reflex.
He placed a few kisses to the spot he had rested his head, snuggling in as close as he could, ignoring the incessant growling in his stomach, and the way his whole body ached from sitting so still for nearly all of the day. He ignored the wave of grief waiting in the wings to wash over him as soon as he lowered his guard, and the fact that the hospital was freezing and smelled of bleach, and he buried his nose into his boyfriend's stomach, feeling it expand and contract with every breath, and feeling the heat radiating from his body, his heartbeat audible through the thin sheets. He focused on its sound, and it eventually lulled him back to sleep.
Keito woke the next morning to find a tray of the hospital food sitting on Shoon's bedside table. On the tray was a note written in sloppy, barely legible handwriting were the words This is officially for Yamashita-san, but he's not going to want it, or even be able to eat it. Keep your strength up Okamoto-kun. Keito sighed, looking over at Shoon, remembering how in the past few weeks he'd gradually lost his appetite. Remembering how he'd eventually had a hard time with even the smallest portions. It was true that Shoon would not eat the meal provided.
Reluctantly Keito took the tray onto his own lap. The doctor was so kind. He shoveled the food into his mouth, cringing internally a bit at the dry, bland, meal. But any food was welcome, and he ate everything provided, clearing it and setting the tray aside, his stomach still not full, but much better than before. He was amazingly stiff, his whole body aching, a dull headache-probably due to slight dehydration-amassing his skull. He stood and stretched, joints cracking as he straightened his limbs. He checked his watch again. Nearly eight in the morning. Wow. He'd slept pretty well. He let his eyes trace over Shoon's form, almost eerie in that he hadn't shifted at all in his sleep, his body in the exact same place it had been when the rest of their housemates had been by.
Keito took his boyfriend's hand, and found his fingers ice cold, and he grasped it in both of his own, using his own body heat to warm him. It was unusual; Shoon rarely ever got cold. Keito reached up to feel his face, and found it actually rather hot. Did he have a fever, or was this some symptom of the cancer? He felt Shoon's forehead, trying to gauge his temperature, and when he did, Shoon's grip on his other hand tightened, his eyes slowly cracking open, big and brown, and he blinked hazily up at him, a smile on his lips.
"Keito." Shoon mumbled, his voice slurred and gravely, and Keito doubted he would have understood if the word hadn't been his own name. Shoon tilted his head back a little, and Keito leaned in, gently putting a kiss to Shoon's lips, savoring the feeling and trying to commit every fleeting second to memory. When he pulled away he gently brushed Shoon's bangs from his forehead, feeling the smooth skin of his cheek under his fingers. He choked back tears, taking care not to let his fear, his despair show on his face. But Shoon's eyelids were already drooping once more, and he seemed unaware of Keito's emotions. Despite this his grip on Keito's hand stayed strong, and he murmured "Talk."
So Keito did. At first he tried to ask what Shoon wanted to talk about, attempting conversation, but eventually he realized that Shoon didn't have the energy to keep up verbal response, and he stopped asking questions and just spoke. He told stories his father had told him when he was a kid. He told Shoon about his first experiences in the Kumi. He told their stories, their dates and their firsts and the things he remembered most from the past year. He told Shoon just how much he loved him. He talked for hours, and for a long time Shoon would nod the tiniest of nods, or give Keito's hand a small squeeze to show that he was still listening, despite the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes open. When Keito would remind him of something funny a grin would bloom on his lips, and Keito would feel accomplished.
Throughout the evening the rest of them all stopped by, this time in small groups of twos and threes, much less overwhelming. They all gave Shoon hugs, the older man weakly returning the gesture, and he planted kisses on each of their foreheads before they could pull away, the action a tender one that spoke of just how much he loved each and every one of them. To Keito's surprise, they all gave him special attention as well, putting comforting hands on his shoulders and giving him nods of encouragement. Many of them cried, and when they did the tears ran down their cheeks and their faces grew red and splotchy, their breath rattling in between sobs. It was disconcerting, leaving a foreboding feeling in the room, and Keito hated it when they cried, because when he cried, he couldn't see how broken he looked. He didn't have to watch, like he did when the others-all of them so much tougher and braver than himself-broke down.
This continued more or less, for the next few days. Keito lived at the hospital, not really showering, barely eating or drinking. He was brought clothes by the others, and sometimes food. He only left Shoon's side to change and relieve himself, and he continued to sleep half folded onto Shoon's bed, spending the rest of the time keeping vigil, just in case. Shoon was only awake willingly for perhaps twenty minutes of the twenty-four hours in the day now. He would stay awake longer when the others came to see him, but it obviously took great effort. He barely spoke, and when he did his voice was throaty and his words so slurred that it was very difficult to understand, and it was always in those moments, seeing him struggle so much, looking so withered away, that Keito felt despair wash over him like a tsunami.
And while at first Shoon kept a tight grip on Keito's hand, it gradually relaxed, and as the days passed, the more it relaxed it became, the harder it was to wake him once he had fallen asleep. His breathing was shallow when he slept, and Keito could tell by day four that Shoon's pulse had grown weaker, his heart monitor's incessant beeping alerting anyone in the room that Shoon's heart was having to work twice as hard as it had previously to get his blood through his body. Soon Shoon slipped into a nearly unrousable state, only rarely giving Keito's hand the smallest of pressures to let him know that he was...still there. Whenever he did this Keito would talk to him, fulfilling Shoon's last request by murmuring nonsensical things in the vague hope that somehow it could help.
Keito suspended his grief during the day, as nurses and occasionally a doctor would pass through. His housemates too decided by the evening of the fourth day that-numbers be damned-they would join him. They mostly sat on the benches lining the hall just outside, silent and miserable, the expressions on their faces a reflection of Keito's own grief. Occasionally one or two of them would pull up a chair next to him by the bed and sit a while, but no one knew what to say. He only cried when he was alone, and knew Shoon was asleep, feeling more helpless than he ever had felt in his life, and irrationally angry at some nameless god or the hospital, or modern medicine, or genetics for inflicting this on someone so obviously not ready to give up. Or perhaps it was just him that wasn't ready. If the others heard him, they didn't mention it.
It was in the next twenty-four hours that any attempts to get a response from Shoon finally failed. He was still alive; Keito could feel his pulse, affirmed by the heart monitor beeping incessantly next to the bed. The doctors called it a coma, stating that there was nothing left to do. And shortly after that diagnosis Shoon's breathing grew ragged, rattling deeply in his throat, a cross between a dog’s growl and a person with a sinus infection snoring. Keito vowed to himself that from that point on he himself would not sleep, instead watching as the day turned to night and the moon arced over the sky. But, despite the fierce will with which he decided on his goal, early in the morning he drifted off.
He woke suddenly, jolting up in his chair to the horrifying sound of the heart monitor, its shrill voice constant and unwavering, and panic crashed over him and he reached out desperately in the dark for Shoon's hand. It felt the same as he remembered, the same as before, but the cruelly flat line of the heart monitor told him that it wasn't like before. It was completely different. His eyes wandered up to Shoon's face-the big doe eyes still closed, his petal pink lips upturned a bit in a calm smile-and Keito stared at it for a moment, numb with shock and disbelief. Then suddenly doctors and nurses spilled into the room flicking the lights on, the space suddenly full to bursting with light and movement and life, and there was something so inherently wrong about that. The droning, dead sound of the heart monitor, flat and spiteful overtook everything, and Keito was forced to take a step back to let the medical professionals near their patient.
The arrival of the medical staff woke his housemates, all of them sleeping out in the hallway by Shoon's door, and they too burst into the room, and despite all of the movement no one was speaking, everyone mute, and wide eyed in horror. For a few moments the doctors and nurses bustled anxiously about Shoon's bed, but then they all just stopped, dropping their hands to their sides, and the doctor that Keito had previously considered to be so kind called Shoon's time of death. The words, that hopeless, cold announcement elicited choked gasps and harsh curses, and a few desperate sobs from Keito's housemates, and the medical professionals turned off all of Shoon's machinery and filed out silently, leaving them to themselves. Keito stared down at Shoon, his body a shell of its former glory, his muscles small and weak, his hair stringy, his beautiful face too still, and he sank into the chair, his grief roaring in his ears, silent and deafening all at once. He felt so burdened with it that he did not know if he could ever find the strength to stand again. Keito leaned forward in the hard plastic chair of the hospital room, his elbow propped on the chair's arm, whole body numb and overflowing with a torrent of anguish. He could barely look at the beautiful face he'd gotten used to over the last two years. But something some small logical part still nestled inside him made him look; reminding him that this really was the last time he would ever see it.
And he looked down at the empty body, and found himself utterly and completely alone.
A/N: So....I don't really know what to say. I feel like this has been a bit of a journey for me. Thank you everyone who has supported this fic, I really appreciated everyone's comments and encouragement. This has been my longest fic to date, at over 60,000 words! If you liked, or simply read my story, I'd love to hear from you, please don't be shy! Also, if you like the Heisei Kumi Universe, let me know, because I know that I personally really like this AU...and I have already plotted out a follow up story to this one...which I'm currently considering writing, once I finish the fics I'm working on right now. So it would be a while before you all got it, but I might write a part III. So, yes, tell me how you all feel about that.
Also, since I finished posting Gaining Your Love I have been getting a lot of comments asking for a Chiitaro-centric Heisei Kumi fic. In an attempt to fulfill that request I am currently about 10,000 words into another Heisei Kumi spinoff, centered around Chinen. It starts back in 2006, and it really explains what Chinen's relationship with Takaki is, and how he meets and subsequently falls in love with Ryutaro. It also shows how Chinen is introduced to the Kumi, and how he ends up becoming Kumi-cho. Hopefully it will be something you all can enjoy. It's going to cover a lot of backstory for the Kumi, and I'm really excited about it. It's going to be called You Found Me, so if that sounds like something you are interested in reading, tell me to hurry up and finish it!
Okay, one last thing. If any of you are interested, starting next week I will be posting my next fic. It's completely different from my Heisei Kumi fics. I've mentioned it before, in my A/N at the end of The Prince and The Pauper; a kind of silly little Ariyama fic called Tea & Lace. It's an AU fic where basically Yamada and Daiki are college students and best friends, and they share an apartment together. Yamada gets laid off at work and in his desperate search for a job he ends up working at a maid cafe owned by Yabu and Hikaru, where he meets new friends, encounters some exciting events, and may or may not realize his eternal love for his roommate. It's not a genderbender, despite all of the JUMP members running around in girl clothes, and there's lots of fun side pairings, so...yeah! Look forward to that!
So sorry this has dragged on for so long! I really appreciate you reading my fic, and for persevering through my rambling. I really love you guys, you're the best!!!