Up in Smoke: A Heisei Kumi Fanfic (3/36)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Hikato, Chiitaro, Ariyama
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Minor Character Death, Strong Language
Genre: Slice of life/Angst
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone.
Summary: After months of peace an attack leaves the Heisei Kumi reeling, and when an old enemy returns to the area reclaiming that peace starts to feel impossible.
A/N: The next installment in my Heisei Kumi AU, this one starts in the last days of December 2016 and continues on into 2017. If you'd like to read the other stories in this AU, please check out my masterlist. All Heisei Kumi fics have 平成組 next to their titles, to mark them as part of the AU! I'm so sorry I missed last week, I'll try not to miss again.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2
Keito felt Yuto stiffen up next to him as the words left their Kumi-cho’s lips, and on reflex he pulled Yuto in, turning away from the rest of their housemates and throwing his arms around Yuto’s shoulders as the implications of the Kumi-cho’s announcement wormed their way into his brain. Wakaba Ichinojo was a name he’d heard before, his housemates’ mentions of it always accompanied by hard set jaws and furrowed brows, anger and grief in their voices. He had been the leader of the Wakaba Kumi for some time before Keito had joined the kumi. He’d been the one in charge when Taiyo had died. And now he was the one responsible for all of the dead boys from tonight. A lump formed in Keito’s throat as he thought about it, and as he squeezed Yuto tighter a burning hot anger pitted itself in his stomach.
“Are you sure?” It was Chinen that voiced the question, his voice relatively calm amidst the sounds of their housemates’ emotions; and there was a low whine from Hikaru, before their leader said
“I can’t prove it...but this has to be him. He’s been out of the area for years now, and things have been better, and now suddenly the whole world goes to hell, and I get this-” There was a pause, everyone silent. “The Wakaba would never do this without his influence.” There was an indistinct sound of agreement from Yabu, and Yuto shifted in Keito’s arms, as though he were thinking about pulling away, but changed his mind at the last moment. After a short silence Yabu brushed past him, carrying the dead boy’s little body in his arms as he left to return it like Kouchi had requested. There was a sharp grief filled tension in the room, and there was a long pause after Yabu had left, before Inoo’s voice behind Keito asked
“Now what, Kumi-cho?” This time Yuto did move, raising his head from where he’d tucked it back into Keito’s neck, and instead propping it on Keito’s shoulder to look over at their leader. Keito wanted to look too but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to dislodge Yuto, so he stayed still and shut his eyes, listening as Hikaru said
“Now we get proof.” His voice was high with emotion, and Keito could picture him without having to see, knowing that Hikaru’s hands were tense, the veins in his arms and neck prominent, his jaw clenched, his eyes the only thing betraying the grieving. It was a sight Keito had seen far too many times in their years of knowing each other, and just hearing the note of pain in Hikaru’s tone had Keito’s own emotions going through an upheaval in his stomach, and it was suddenly much harder not to cry. Hikaru’s next few words were more measured, more controlled, and Keito took a deep breath as he listened.
“Everyone should get cleaned up; did anyone get hurt?” There was a mulled consensus of denial, no one declaring their injuries to rank any higher than a two, and Hikaru sighed. “Good. Tomorrow, after everyone's gotten some sleep and eaten we’ll check back in with the underlings, and then as soon as we can we’ll hit the Wakaba back. They need to be punished for this. They-” He paused, sighed again. “-I’m sure some of the underlings will want to join in the raid, and I’m going to let them. Those fuckers deserve to feel the pain they inflicted on us, on our boys, and I want to dish it out just as bad-worse than they did.” Yuto nodded against Keito’s shoulder, and he pulled back a little, Keito twisting around just enough to see the rest of their housemates, taking care to keep his arms wrapped around Yuto’s shoulders, not planning on letting go for a long time. Not until Yuto felt better, or asked him to stop.
“Fucking good.” Daiki growled from where he was standing sandwiched between Inoo and Yamada, both of his companions looking rather teary. He wasn’t crying however, his face hard, voice betraying his anger. It was an anger that they’d seen less and less of over the years, and one that had all but disappeared in the peace and happiness that had come into their lives around the same time that Daiki and Yamada had gotten married. It was almost nostalgic to see the familiar fury written all over his housemate’s face, but this time instead of feeling a wash of fear in response, Keito felt a kinship. This time he more than just platonically understood Daiki’s anger; this time he participated in it. And as he did a quick sweep of his housemates’ faces, he found that he was far from the only one.
Takaki was the first one to turn away from the group, going into the kitchen and digging around in the cabinets for a few moments, before seeming to remember that they’d taken all of their first aid kits to the underlings, and instead he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the tap, calling out over his shoulder
“Inoo, get in here.” Those words seemed to break the stillness, and within seconds everyone was in motion, all of them digging around for hand towels and washcloths of their own to wash any blood off of each other’s hands and faces. Yuto wiped at his face with the back of his hand, and he pulled away from Keito completely, moving to get a towel of his own, and in his absence Keito immediately turned to Hikaru, wanting to kiss him, but knowing that Hikaru wouldn’t like that, not in front of everyone, and so he settled on running his hands up Hikaru’s arms and across his shoulders, not sure of what he should say. Hikaru sighed, falling silent for a moment, before he stiffened up suddenly, as if realizing something and he asked, tone serious
“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Keito shook his head, the tension in Hikaru’s shoulders falling out of them as he murmured
“I’m okay. I didn’t even get hit.” Hikaru nodded, sounding almost distracted as he said
“Good, that’s good.”
“What about you?” Hikaru shrugged.
“I may have a bruise or two in the morning, but it’s really nothing.”
“Keito!” Their conversation was cut off by Yuto, calling out for him, and Keito knew that Yuto knew he was butting in and he didn’t care. Because Yuto needed attention. He needed to be taken care of; he was afraid of being left alone with his grief. Keito turned to Hikaru, wanting to stay, to clean him up and then perhaps drag him back to his room and curl up together and maybe cry for a while, but instead he said
“He needs me.” Hikaru nodded, seeming to understand the situation, and he asked
“Will you be coming to see me at all?” Keito nodded, leaning in closer, so that if he tilted his head a little their foreheads would touch.
“I want to. I-”
“Keito!” Yuto’s voice cut him off, and Keito leaned in, maintaining eye contact and knocking their foreheads together for a moment before pulling away and waving to Yuto, taking in the little station he’d set up for them, with a damp hand towel and a bowl of water set on a small patch of their kitchen table.
“Sorry.” Keito said, once he was close enough, but his apology wasn’t really acknowledged, Yuto instead reaching out with the towel and wiping it across Keito’s cheek. Keito was surprised when the cloth came back with a stripe of red. He hadn’t thought he’d been all that dirty. Sure, he’d carried and tended to bleeding people, but despite that he’d felt that compared to some of his housemates he’d had far less reason to be bloodstained. The amount of it that Yuto wiped away made him reevaluate however, and he stayed for the most part still, letting Yuto work. Yuto had regained most of his composure, no longer crying, but he didn’t speak, and he seemed laser focused on his work, eyes still red, still watery, and Keito knew that the wall his friend had managed to put up was paper thin, and would crumple in the slightest breeze.
Once Yuto had declared him cleaned up, Keito took the towel and rinsed it off in the bowl of water, before getting to work on Yuto’s own face. It wasn’t until he used his hands that he realized they were trembling from fatigue, and his knuckles were bruised over and swollen, making it a bit harder to use them, his range of motion more limited than usual. Yuto didn’t seem to have as much blood on him as he’d wiped off of Keito’s skin. He only had a few smudges on his face and neck, probably left there from his own fingers, subconscious touches that had probably happened throughout the course of the night. The state of his hands seemed to backup that theory, those much more covered in blood, a pretty solid coating of drying, flaking blood up to his wrists and onto his sleeves.
Yuto pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the table, and he let his legs hang down, his whole body rather limp, allowing Keito to simply do as he pleased, Keito fiddling with his fingers and scrubbing his face with the towel to no reaction. He wasn’t really present, his gaze directed in the space next to Keito’s right shoulder, but he didn’t seem to be focused on anything. For a while Keito let him be, not saying anything until he was nearly done, setting down one of Yuto’s hands to reach for the other one, saying softly
“Yuto?” Yuto blinked, jerking a little at the sound of his name, and looking up at Keito. He looked lost, he looked like he was in pain, and it reminded Keito of the times that they would go to Raiya’s grave, only this time the wounds were fresh, and he was feeling them much more sharply than the old scar of his brother’s death. Words died in Keito’s throat, and he finished cleaning Yuto up hastily, offering “Let's go to bed.” The fact that the sun had just come up for the day didn’t seem to bother Yuto, and he nodded, seeming on the verge of tears once more. They went up to their bedroom together, Keito leading the way, taking Yuto by the hand and making sure he followed behind.
They changed out of their bloodstained clothes, shivering as the cold winter air hit their bare bodies in the brief moments between outfits, before they settled into Yuto’s bed together, Keito not really even given the option to go to his own bunk, Yuto clinging to his arm, dragging him onto his mattress. He was crying again, when he’d started Keito didn’t know, but Yuto had fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping off of his chin and the end of his nose, and Keito fought to keep his own emotions under control, wanting to comfort his friend, to be there for him, and be strong for him. He swallowed a lump in his throat, whispering as he leaned his side into Yuto’s own and wrapped an arm around Yuto’s shoulders
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t...don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” Yuto shook his head, trembling hands coming up to cover his face. His voice was rough, even more so than usual, and he could barely be heard, shaky, gulping breaths hindering the word as he said
“No.” Keito shook his head, rubbing circles on Yuto’s back and feeling Yuto curl into him, his head back under Keito’s chin, fingers curling into Keito’s shirt, his tears seeping into the fabric and running down Keito’s neck. They sat like that for a long time, the two of them slowly sinking further and further into the mattress. Keito tried to comfort his friend, tried to say sweet things, but it seemed that his presence did more for Yuto than any of his words could, and so eventually he stopped talking, instead rubbing circles on Yuto’s back, and holding him close until he fell asleep. Keito cried some. Quietly, once Yuto had for the most part stopped moving, and he felt sure it wouldn’t be noticed.
He was exhausted, he was miserable, and he had more than half a mind to just close his eyes and fall asleep right there. But he wanted Hikaru. He wanted to see Hikaru, to touch Hikaru, kiss him, so badly that it almost hurt, and so once Yuto was fast asleep he slowly slid out from under his friend’s heavy body, rolling Yuto onto his side with trepidation, but Yuto didn’t wake up. Relieved, Keito practically ran from the room, moving hastily down the stairs, finding the whole house quiet. It looked as though everyone had retreated to their rooms. Perhaps Yuto wasn’t the only one sleeping. That thought made him slow down, and he took more care to remain quiet as he moved through the living room, passing through Hikaru’s office before pushing open the door to his boyfriend’s bedroom, hoping that he was still awake.
Hikaru was sitting up in bed, his guitar in his lap, but he wasn’t playing it, and when Keito peered through his doorway he looked up, meeting Keito’s gaze. He’d been crying too, his eyes red, tear tracks shining on his cheeks, and he motioned for Keito to come closer, Keito crawling up into the bed with him at once. He could feel the false air of strength he’d put up around Yuto already beginning to crumble, and as he leaned in to kiss Hikaru a small sob escaped him, Hikaru just leaning in faster when he heard it, meeting his lips and kissing him with a sort of eager, sad desperation that comforted Keito, let Keito know that he was happy to see him, that he wanted him, and still retained in it Hikaru’s sadness, and his grieving and fear about the murderous attack they’d just been through. It was wretched, and lovely, and Keito didn’t want it to stop.
When they both finally pulled away they were both crying, and Hikaru said softly, his voice trembling slightly as he regained some composure, his body moving, reaching over the edge of the bed to set the guitar off to the side
“I had started to wonder if you were coming.”
“I...um...it was Yuto. He’s asleep now, but…” The words came out in a jumble, nonsensical, mixed up in deep breaths in an attempt to get his tears under control before they truly got out of hand. Hikaru nodded, and he wiped at his face, before pulling the duvet on his bed back, inviting Keito in underneath, and Keito slid in, reaching out and wrapping himself around Hikaru, feeling Hikaru do the same to him, their arms around each other, faces close, breathing heavy, and Hikaru kissed him again, Keito having to break the kiss because he was crying too hard, the horror and fear and sadness that had been building inside of him all night finally spilling over, and there, in Hikaru’s arms he finally let himself go.
Next
A/N: Just a quick announcement! I've decided to start backing this journal up over on Ao3! I'm going to start reposting everything I've posted here over on my new account over there, which can be found here. I just finished posting My New Family over there tonight, and I'll be spending my free time trying to get everything over there. I'll still be posting here, and even after I get everything all caught up on Ao3 I plan on continuing to post to both platforms, so it will just be another resource if you want to use it, but you certainly don't have to!