Up in Smoke: A Heisei Kumi fanfic (28/36)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Hikato, Chiitaro, Ariyama
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Minor Character Death, Strong Language, Explicit Sex, Major Character Death
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!
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27
The next day before dinner Keito went to pick up his anniversary gift for Hikaru, Inoo trailing along with him, as no one went out alone anymore. Not that Inoo would really have been much use in a fight. The older man was mostly trying to rebuild his muscle mass, long bouts of physical activity leaving him immensely tired ever since he’d woken from his coma. Still, he seemed to enjoy being out of the house, and he cooed teasingly over the present Keito had chosen-a golden wristwatch, which he’d had engraved. He’d gotten the idea from the knife Hikaru had given him for his birthday a few years prior, and he’d had the jeweler emblazon the back of the face with the words ‘All my time is yours’.
They talked casually as they made their way home, Inoo a little slow, Keito having to consciously match his pace to make sure Inoo didn’t drag behind. It was nice, peaceful, the spring dusk lit up in red as the sun passed behind the buildings, and Keito tried not to think about how it looked like blood and instead focus on the anniversary. It was a good thing. After these past few months of violence and terror he deserved something good. They all did. He sighed, and Inoo treated him to a knowing glance, reaching out and clapping Keito on the shoulder, grief in his eyes.
It wasn’t until they were nearly home that there was a shout, the sound of someone yelling from off in the distance, and Keito felt a nervous sinking in his stomach, his body tensing up, his hand running over the bulge at his hip where the Sig Sauer was tucked into the band of his pants. Inoo had fallen a little behind, but he too seemed to sense that something was wrong, his eyes blown wide with fear. It was an inexplicable gut feeling that something was wrong, but then he turned the last corner to see the door to their home swung wide on its hinges, more shouts echoing out into the street, and his fears were confirmed.
Inoo cursed sharply, and fumbled for his gun, and Keito glanced over at him, a cold stone of panic sinking in his chest. Inoo wasn’t prepared for this. He simply wouldn’t be able to win this fight. Scenarios flashed through Keito’s mind, most of them ending with Inoo’s dead body sprawled across their living room floor, and he spun around, shoving the watch box into the older man’s hands and saying
“You turn around.” Inoo stared at him incredulously, rage visibly rising up in him.
“What?! Fuck you. No.” The stark anger was startling, but Keito didn’t have time to process it, or to care about Inoo’s feelings. He could only process his own fear.
“You can’t die too. You’re not ready and you can’t die. You just-just walk away, and keep the watch safe, and-”
“I’m not going to fucking run away, and leave the kumi to fight without me! What kind of person do you think I am?!” Inoo growled.
“Fuck.” Keito hissed out, tears already welling up in his eyes, and he didn’t have time for this argument, not right now, not when there was a big crashing noise coming from inside their house, one of the Wakaba running out, his face covered in blood. So Keito gave up, and instead he grabbed his knife from his pocket, flicked it open, and ran down the rest of the alley, toward their home. He didn’t look back to see if Inoo was behind him, leaping up the stairs and crashing full force into Yanagishita Tomo, the Wakaba member stumbling backward, as Keito fell to his knees with a thud.
There was more cursing, and Keito grabbed at Tomo’s legs, pulling him down onto the floor and crawling on top of him, fist connecting with the older man’s face a few times before he got to his feet, looking around the house. It looked like the fight was nearly over, only a handful of Wakaba members left, with almost everyone still on their feet, Keito’s eyes scanning the room, counting heads. Hikaru was in the kitchen, and he had two unconscious Wakaba at his feet, and a third guy in a headlock. Yamada and Daiki were back to back behind the couch, which was tipped on its side, and while Daiki was covered in blood, he was moving fast, Yamada’s sword out. Takaki meanwhile was standing in front of a bloody Yuto, who was crumpled on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes just barely open, Chinen crouched down next to him, hands running carefully over his face.
Keito moved to help the Ariokas; as that seemed to be where most of the enemies were, but he only got in a couple of punches before the last of the Wakaba were scrambling for the door, and they were left alone. Keito’s heart was still pounding, adrenaline pulsing through him, fear fueling terrible questions in his mind.
“Yuto?” Hikaru asked, blood running down one side of his face, his bare chest heaving, and it was Inoo who answered, talking through a bloodied lip that suggested that he hadn’t taken Keito’s request to sit this one out, as he wrapped an arm around Yuto’s waist, and lugged him up, heading toward the kitchen table
“He’s a four. He’ll be fine. He just took a few hits, and he might need some stitches for one of these cuts.”
“I’m okay.” Yuto declared, voice rough, and it was almost comical, because he certainly didn’t look okay. But Hikaru nodded, eyes running over the rest of them, and he said sternly, voice full of concern
“Numbers for the rest of you?”
“Two.” Daiki said, wiping blood from his mouth, and next to him his husband nodded, saying
“Two.” Takaki was also declared a two, with Inoo, Chinen, and Keito only considering their injuries at a one, Keito having received one kick to the ribs that might bruise, his bloody knuckles the only place he had broken the skin. Hikaru visibly relaxed once he’d heard that they were all more or less okay, and they got to work patching each other up. Keito ended up handing out wet washcloths to everyone, while Inoo and Hikaru focused their attention to Yuto. Takaki and Daiki upended the couch so that it was back on its feet, and it was then that Chinen voiced the question that was on everyone’s minds
“Do you think they knew?” They all fell silent, Keito feeling rather nauseous at the thought, but Hikaru shook his head.
“I think if they knew we’d killed Haruma and Takeru they would have brought a bigger force. Ichinojo wasn’t even with them tonight. And only two of them had guns.” He paused, sighing, looking drained and weary. “I think if they had figured it out, at least one of us would be dead.” He paused, setting his jaw. “They don’t know our plan. They didn’t find the kerosene, they didn’t find the keys. We got out of this fight extremely lucky. Tonight’s fight isn’t going to change anything. We’re prepared, and in forty-eight hours we’re going to hit them hard, and send them up in flames.”
They finished the clean up and got Yuto to bed, Keito feeling a little bit better, Hikaru’s words convincing him that he was right. The Wakaba didn’t know. After everything was taken care of they tried to resume dinner, but they all ended up simply sitting around the table eating leftovers, everyone exhausted after the adrenaline wore off, no one wanting to cook. They all went to bed early too, Inoo treating Keito to a glare before tossing him the watch box and retreating to his bedroom. Keito cringed, and yelled after him, the words said to Inoo’s back
“I’m sorry!” Inoo didn’t stop, or turn to look at him, and Keito sighed, looking down at the box in his hands, as Hikaru walked over to him, treating him to a look of confusion. Keito shrugged. “I said something to him I shouldn’t have. I’ll fix it.” Hikaru nodded.
“Is it bad?” He asked, and Keito shrugged.
“Nothing he won’t forgive me for...I mean...it was stupid, but I think I can fix it.”
“Okay.” Hikaru sighed, and Keito asked
“Want to go to bed?”
“I want to check on Yabu, but how about you go get ready and I’ll be in soon, okay?” Hikaru offered. Keito nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Hikaru’s cheek. A small blush dusted Hikaru’s skin, and the sight of it made him happy.
“Okay. But I want to be the big spoon tonight.” He murmured, trying at teasing, and Hikaru’s lips hitched up in a small smile, and he said
“Fine.” That night Keito barely managed to keep his eyes open long enough for Hikaru to crawl into bed and into his arms, and he slept like a rock, only torn from sleep when Hikaru pulled out of his arms to sit up, breathing heavy, body trembling. It was jarring, and Keito sat up with him, his bruised ribs aching at the movement, and he said, his voice rough with sleep
“Hey, what is it?” Hikaru didn’t respond, and Keito pressed himself close, able to feel the way Hikaru was quivering, like he’d woken from a nightmare, and after a long pause the older man finally said
“Am I doing the right thing? I-killing all of those people.” His head hung, hands clutching the sheets, and Keito wasn’t sure what to say. He sat there, hands rubbing slow circles on Hikaru’s skin, and thought for a long time, before he finally said
“If you decide not to do it...that’s okay. But...but if you don’t, then the war doesn’t end. The Wakaba want us pushed out, want our territory, and you don’t have to kill them. But they will kill us.” He paused, biting at his lip for a moment. “They won’t stop just because you do.” Hikaru let out a deep, shuddering breath, and he turned to Keito, nodding, and Keito could tell he’d been crying.
“Thanks. You-you’re right. This is the best plan.” He sighed. “No more of our boys can die because of my weakness.” The words sounded rough and focused, like he’d become reassured in his choice, and Keito leaned in, wiping away his tears and placing a kiss on his lips.
“Try not to think about it tonight. Just think about how in the morning I’m going to kiss you and fuck you until you forget everything but me.” Keito said the words lowly, lips brushing Hikaru’s skin as he spoke, and Hikaru leaned in, pressing a long sweet kiss to his lips, the touch reassuring. He didn’t seem to be trembling any longer. “Want to try and get some more sleep?” Keito asked, holding back a yawn, and Hikaru nodded, pressing another kiss to Keito’s lips and saying
“Yeah, but this time I’m the big spoon.”
Keito woke up in the morning to Hikaru’s hands running along his chest, and he smiled, Hikaru kissing him before he even opened his eyes, his boyfriend pressing in close to him, and Keito hummed contentedly, eyes finally cracking open when the kiss broke, a smile blooming over his lips, and he cooed
“Happy Anniversary.” Hikaru smiled at him, body totally relaxed where it was pressed up against his own, and he murmured the phrase back, Keito leaning in to plant a kiss of his own. They spent most of the day in bed, kissing and cuddling, and sometimes that would escalate to sex, and other times it would devolve into contented silence. And it was nice, it was really lovely, but there was a somber air that kept trying to creep in, and while it used to be that Hikaru could really get him to laugh in bed, this time no one was laughing. They were desperately clinging to this moment of peace and joy they’d deliberately carved out for themselves. Afraid of the night, afraid of it ending.
They didn’t bother with clothes most of the day, instead lying around in their underwear, if anything at all. Keito loved just looking at Hikaru, sitting still and tracing every curve and angle of him, his body all the more beautiful for every scar. Around midday he gave Hikaru the watch, and Hikaru was rather flustered by the gift. He always seemed to get that way about presents on any day that wasn’t Christmas, unused to them for so long that he wasn’t sure what to do. He meanwhile, gave Keito a new guitar, a beautiful thing made of cocobolo wood, the date they got together burned into the neck of it. It was stunning, and they spent the afternoon curled around each other, Hikaru and Keito both taking turns fiddling with it, in between the kissing and the sex.
As evening crept in they got in the shower, the two of them stepping in together, taking turns washing each other’s hair and pressing wet kisses to wet skin. After that Keito retreated to his own bedroom to get ready for their dinner date, Yuto helping him pick out his suit and tie from where he was once again confined to his bed. As soon as he was alone thoughts of the plan to burn the Wakaba out of existence swamped his mind, and Keito had to fight to focus on the dinner he was supposed to be getting ready for.
Keito and Hikaru had only been on proper dates a handful of times, and the prospect made Keito a little nervous. The hard line of his Sig Sauer pressed against the small of his back, as well as the familiar weight of his butterfly knife in his pocket made him feel a little better however, and he looked himself over in the mirror, tucking some of his long hair behind one ear, before stepping out of the room. He’d been about to go downstairs, hoping that perhaps this time he’d managed to somehow be ready before Hikaru was, when he heard Hikaru’s voice coming from Inoo’s bedroom, and he turned from the steps, crossing the hall to peer through the cracked door.
Hikaru was in there alone with Yabu, and he was all dressed up for their date, looking stunning in a navy suit and gold tie, the golden tiger head cufflinks Keito had gotten him one Christmas stark against the dark blue cuffs on his jacket. He was sitting on the bed, holding one of Yabu’s hands in his own, while his other hand brushed Yabu’s hair away from his forehead, so he could see the big red scar that cut through his face. He murmured something lowly, Keito unable to hear, his eyes running along the mark, and it was then that Keito entered the room, pushing the door open to announce his presence.
Hikaru looked up, frozen in place for a moment, and Keito smiled at him, trying to keep his attitude positive, and Hikaru gave him a lingering once over, announcing
“Fuck. You’re so hot.” The blunt nature of that statement made Keito blush, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, saying
“That means a lot, coming from you.” Hikaru raised his eyebrows bemusedly at Keito’s flirty tone, and he played along, asking as he got up and walked over
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Keito said, reaching up to straighten Hikaru’s tie once he was close enough, just for an excuse to touch him. “You’re the sexiest guy I know.” Hikaru’s hands settled on his waist, and Keito stepped in, kissing him for a moment, before asking “Are you ready to go?” Hikaru nodded, his head turning to look back one last time at Yabu, still unconscious on the bed, before he said
“Let’s go.”
Dinner was lovely, the restaurant just large enough that no one really noticed them, or the edges of tattoos peeking from under their collars and their cuffs, and the food was delicious, Keito reminded of just why his father loved the place as soon as his meal arrived. Hikaru did a good job of taking Keito’s mind off of the looming darkness threatening to overwhelm him, keeping conversation going and asking Keito about his dad, about his food, and surprising him by asking the waiter to take their picture at the end of the night, the action startling in how much it reminded Keito of his very first date, on which Shoon had done the same thing.
The memory made his chest ache in sadness, and he found himself begging the universe, pleading with some god that he wasn’t sure he believed in, to let this time be different. To let him still have Hikaru after tomorrow. To let this photograph just be a snapshot of one moment in their lives, together, and not a memento of a time that once was, one of the few things proving that Hikaru had been in his life. Like the photo of Shoon and himself now was. The thought was petrifying, and after the picture was taken he found himself unable to hold his tears back, thick wet drops running silently down his cheeks, and Hikaru’s brow furrowed in concern, and he reached across the table, grabbing Keito’s hand, and he asked
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Keito shook his head, wiping at his eyes, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to pull himself together. All he managed to say was
“I just love you. So much.” Hikaru smiled, giving his hand a squeeze, and he said quietly, affection in his voice
“Hey, it’s okay.” Keito nodded, his eyes scrunching shut in an attempt to get the tears to stop, and Hikaru offered
“Want to go home and drink whiskey in bed, and cuddle until we fall asleep?” Keito nodded, his voice watery as he said
“Okay.”
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