Archive of Our Own

Aoba didn't want him.

It really came home for Koujaku after the events of Platinum Jail. All he wanted to do then was to help Aoba in any way he could. He felt so helpless, so impotent, when he lost Aoba on the way there. But he managed to find the others, and working together, the four odd allies who all had their own reasons to help Aoba got into the ultra-private resort through an alternate entrance. (Koujaku had never been so glad the police in Midorijima were uniformly on the take.)

They were nearly too late, fighting their way up through Oval Tower only to find Aoba in the clutches of Virus and Trip. Koujaku had never felt such relief in his life as when they burst into the weird room full of orange vats and rescued Aoba. But then security guards poured into the room, joining the brainwashed men already there, and he had to force himself to focus on the fight ahead.

Besides, Aoba was on his own mission. They had to let him go.

Afterwards -- after the collapse of Oval Tower, getting everyone out and to safety -- Aoba was absorbed in his own trauma. Along with whatever else had happened in there, Ren was no longer functioning as he should have. He only barked in response to Aoba's words, behaving as if he had been reset to the factory defaults.

It wasn't until much later that Koujaku learned what Aoba had been through. He'd visited often, checking in on Aoba to make sure he was all right; one evening, Aoba finally told him about how he'd met his twin brother, Sei, and how he'd learned that Ren's personality had been part of his own consciousness as a child -- the restraining factor to the impulsive Desire, keeping Aoba's rational mind balanced. How Ren had transferred himself into the Allmate's body to help continue to keep Aoba steady in the years when Aoba had all but lost himself to destructive impulse. How Ren had manifested in Aoba's own mind once again, and how Aoba had begged him to stay.

Aoba even confessed, shy and beet-red, that he loved Ren. He said he knew it was weird that he had feelings for what was essentially an extension of his own self, but Koujaku understood -- sort of, anyway. Ren was his own personality now, even if he had been born within Aoba's own mind. Aoba's cheeks had flared an even deeper shade of red after that, and the way he refused to meet Koujaku's eyes suggested he had, perhaps, done other things than just talk with Ren in that mindscape.

Koujaku was fine with not hearing about that. It was difficult enough accepting that Aoba would never love him.

It was fine, anyway. It didn't matter. He would never stop being Aoba's friend. He'd continue to care for and support Aoba in the only ways that he could. He would never, not in a million years, let on to Aoba that he loved him.

Koujaku didn't even know when he'd come to realize that his feelings for Aoba were more than friendly. They'd played together as children; he'd taken pride in defending Aoba from other kids at school who would pull his hair and tease him about looking like a girl. When Koujaku had come out of a blank haze at his father's house and found himself surrounded by blood and bodies, the only thing that had gotten him through it was remembering how Aoba would smile at him: a child's smile of innocent trust. When he came back to Midorijima, he'd been struck dumb by how tall and handsome Aoba was now, his body lean and lanky, his legs shaped by the tight jeans he wore...

No, Koujaku knew exactly when he'd figured it out. It was when he'd jerked off one night while thinking about Aoba. He'd never had even the slightest interest in men physically, but he'd seen Aoba shirtless that day -- they were at Aoba's house, he'd spilled something on his shirt and heedlessly pulled it off to change, and Koujaku's mouth had gone dry as the desert.

He'd excused himself, gone out to have a drink, thought about picking up a girl, but then went home and barely even got his kimono off before he'd collapsed on the bed and pictured pushing Aoba face down into the mattress and opening him up with his fingers, thrusting into him--

Orgasm hit him like a freight train, and with it, a wave of embarrassment and self-loathing.

After that, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Aoba. It didn't matter, though. Aoba would never want him.

Mizuki was the first to notice. Koujaku stopped by his hospital room regularly to make sure he was recovering well. It was a long, slow process; even after Mizuki woke up, he had to go through physical rehabilitation to make his brain remember how to use his limbs, to walk and hold things and dress himself again. (That power of Aoba's really was frightening; Koujaku was glad that it seemed to have disappeared completely.)

That particular day was a good one for Mizuki; he'd been to physical therapy and was tired, but had walked back to the room under his own power, and was sitting up in bed. He grinned when Koujaku poked his head into the room, waved him in. "There's a sight for sore eyes," Mizuki said.

"Well, I can't visit too often," Koujaku chuckled as he stepped in, Beni on his shoulder. "Wouldn't want you to get bored of my face."

"Never." Mizuki's smile was natural; the color had returned to his skin at last, and Koujaku thought it might not be too much longer before Mizuki was released. He made a mental note to make sure everything was ready for Mizuki at home.

"Anyway, tell me how things are going," Mizuki invited as Koujaku took a seat. There wasn't much to report, but Koujaku had been filling in, helping Dry Juice get back on its feet while its leader was hospitalized, and he gladly reported that a few more of the members of the Rib team had recovered, how they were working on reclaiming Dry Juice's territory one alley at a time.

He was in the middle of describing a scuffle that had gone down between Beni-shigure and Noiz's Rhyme team, the Ruff Rabbits, when Mizuki gave him a look that stopped him mid-sentence.

"What?" he asked.

"You haven't mentioned Aoba at all," Mizuki said.

Koujaku blinked. "So? Haven't run into him in a bit. He's been by to see you, right?"

"Yeah, he dropped in the other day," Mizuki nodded. "He's been different, have you noticed?"

Koujaku made himself continue to meet Mizuki's gaze. "After Oval Tower, yeah. He's not the same without Ren. I feel bad for him. Did he tell you about it?"

"Sort of." Mizuki sat back, arms folded across his chest. "I didn't really understand, but you know, my head's still kinda foggy sometimes. But I got the gist of it, I think." Mizuki's head tipped, his eyes piercing Koujaku's. "How are you doing?"

"What?" Koujaku coughed to cover his surprise. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Mizuki shook his head. "Right," he said. "Like I haven't seen the way you've looked at him ever since you came back to the island. You can lie to everyone else, but at least be honest with yourself."

For a moment, Koujaku stared openly at Mizuki. Then he dropped his eyes to the floor instead.

"What I feel doesn't matter," he said, throat working against his collar. "I'm not important."

"Bullshit," Mizuki said. Koujaku's head snapped up to meet Mizuki's narrowed gaze. "You keep saying shit like that, you'll start to believe it. Trust me, I know what it's like to want someone who doesn't want you back." Mizuki's voice went softer for a moment, and Koujaku wondered if he had felt the same way about Aoba once. He wouldn't be surprised. Aoba was easy to love. "Anyway, I don't want to hear that crap out of you anymore. Beni, you give him a good peck if he gets like this, got it?"

"With pleasure!" Beni chirped. Koujaku groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

Koujaku went back to flirting with his customers, resumed home appointments for a little while. He thought if he could just distract himself enough, eventually he'd get back to feeling like normal -- regardless of the fact that he hadn't been feeling anything like normal for a long time now.

Normally, when he had women over to his apartment to do their hair, it was for more complicated styling than he could do on the street: perms or coloring, that sort of thing. It was always implied that if she was interested, he'd indulge his passions as well; rarely had he had a home appointment that didn't end with them in bed. But now he found himself sending them home before any further activities could occur.

He heard the whispers when he was out and about. Koujaku wasn't stupid; he knew his reputation was changing. Sometimes he overheard speculation that he couldn't get it up anymore, but more often, the gossip revolved around the baseless rumor that he'd taken a secret lover, a girlfriend who didn't take kindly to him sleeping around anymore.

It helped, having things to do. While Mizuki was recovering, Koujaku worked on getting Dry Juice back to its former state. Most of the men who'd been taken by Morphine came out of their hypnosis soon after the collapse of Oval Tower with no lasting damage; they regretted the part they'd played, even if they'd had no control over their own actions (Koujaku could sympathize with that), and nearly all of them pitched in to help clean up the Morphine tags from walls and signs and the stairs leading up to Black Needle, restoring the old tags where they could. For a time, Dry Juice's territory shrank, but Koujaku made sure Beni-shigure were backing them up at every step. By the time Mizuki was released from the hospital, a good six months after everything went down, his shop was clean and waiting for him.

The look on Mizuki's face when he saw the place was worth it. The Dry Juice guys had put every effort into cleaning until even the floors shone, restocking everything that had been lost; they'd made sure his apartment above the store was ready for him to return to as well. Koujaku could only admire the loyalty Mizuki inspired in them. Then again, he cared for every single one of them as if they truly were his family; it wasn't really that surprising.

Koujaku cared for his guys, of course, but he'd never felt quite the same way. While he wanted everyone in Beni-shigure to be strong and healthy, he wasn't as involved in their lives; he mostly concerned himself with making sure they behaved in public, that they adhered to the team's codes. That was enough for him.

He kept away from Aoba.

Even the Old Residential Quarter was large enough that people could go without seeing each other if they really wanted to. Koujaku kept to the southern district for his impromptu salons: it was good business, anyway, as life began to flow back into the island with the tourism industry resuming. A hairdresser working on the street, wearing traditional clothing and making a little show of styling hair -- he drew crowds, and he was happy to work whatever angle he needed to in order to make money.

Beni-shigure's territory, on the other hand, butted up to Dry Juice's, all of it not far from where Aoba both worked and lived. And while Koujaku wanted to do his best to avoid Aoba, he couldn't avoid his own team's needs. Nor, it seemed, could he avoid Mizuki, who seemed to be on a mission to force Koujaku to confront his feelings.

Like you're going to change Aoba's mind, Koujaku thought, the third time he got a text from Mizuki telling him to come by Black Needle for drinks after work. Aoba was in love. Nothing would change that; Koujaku certainly wasn't going to try. He'd seen firsthand how strong Aoba's feelings were. Koujaku would hate himself if he so much as mentioned his own feelings.

'By the way, I know you said you were in love with Ren and everything, but just so you know, if you ever get tired of waiting, I'm here.' Even the thought made him cringe. What sort of honorable person would do something like that?

He texted back that he had plans already for that evening, leaving it vague so that Mizuki could draw his own conclusions.

Bring her with you, Mizuki responded, and Koujaku had to stifle a laugh. Of course he wouldn't just let it go.

What if it's a him? he texted back instead, hoping to surprise Mizuki into unresponsiveness.

Then bring him. Or them. Just stop fucking around. Aoba's been asking after you. Mizuki's words, toneless in black and white text, nonetheless somehow managed to convey annoyance at Koujaku.

Koujaku bought a bottle of whiskey on the way home, intending to drink himself blind instead.

He woke up to water being splashed on his face.

"What -- what the fucking--" he spluttered, pushing up off the couch. The couch? Last night was a blur, but he thought he'd made it to bed--

A blurred form stood over him; Koujaku made out blue hair and a frown. "Had to wake you up somehow," Aoba said.

"Fuck off," Koujaku muttered. His head throbbed as he sat upright; dropping his face into his hands, he rubbed at his eyes, hoping to mitigate at least a tiny amount of the hangover beating at his skull.

"Here."

Koujaku cracked one eye open, saw a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin being held out to him. His throat worked as he took them both, dry-swallowing the pills and then opening the water bottle to gulp at least half of it in one go. Beside him, the couch creaked as Aoba sat down.

"How'd you get in?" he croaked, setting the bottle on the floor and then pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead.

"Mizuki gave me your spare key." Aoba briefly produced the key, then tucked it back into his pocket. "He was worried about you after you didn't show last night."

"'M fine. Nothing to worry about."

"Right, because you always drink half a bottle of whiskey by yourself in your apartment." Aoba leaned forward, picked up the bottle laying on its side on the floor. At least Koujaku had managed to cap it before he'd passed out, as a good amount of alcohol remained inside the bottle and not spilled over the rug. Aoba retrieved the glass he'd been using along with another that must have been the source of his rude awakening, then stood up, taking everything to the kitchen.

"Gonna make some tea," he called.

"Fine," Koujaku mumbled, then took the water and finished it. Whatever got Aoba out of here the fastest.

By the time Aoba had finished making the tea, Koujaku was feeling marginally better. He'd gone to the bathroom to clean himself up a bit, and while there wasn't time for a shower right now, he could at least put on a clean shirt (since his kimono was a bit worse for wear at the moment). Beni was still in sleep mode on his perch; Koujaku decided to leave him there for now, not needing another lecture.

"Here you go," Aoba said, setting the cups down on the table. "Still a bit hot."

"Thanks." Koujaku reached for the closer one, then sat back with his eyes closed, cradling the cup in his hands. He could feel Aoba looking at him; after a moment, he grudgingly opened his eyes again to see what the fuss was about.

To his surprise, Aoba jerked his gaze away, staring at his own cup. "Sorry," he said after a moment. "I just -- I didn't realize that tattoo went all the way down your arm."

"Oh." Koujaku glanced at his right arm, where the thick black lines ran to about the middle of his forearm. Normally it was all hidden by the sleeves of his kimono, but he hadn't thought about it before pulling the t-shirt on. At least the one on his back remained hidden. "Yeah, I don't like showing it off," he said.

"Guess not." Aoba sipped at his tea, his eyes darting back towards Koujaku. "When did you get it done?"

Koujaku felt a throb at the nape of his neck. He wasn't sure if it was pain or old anger, or perhaps a combination of the two. "I... I guess about six or seven years ago," he said. He had no desire to expand on the subject, but he could feel the unasked question hanging in the air between them. Aoba's curiosity might be innocent, borne of the desire to know what had happened to his friend in the time they'd been separated; even so, how could Koujaku tell him about it? He didn't want Aoba to know. It was better if Aoba kept that image of him as a good person.

Aoba's gaze fell to his cup again. "You don't have to tell me," he said after a moment, "but I'm always gonna wonder."

It was already too late, then. Koujaku closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of the tea while he thought about where to begin.

"Guess there's no point in hiding it," he said finally. "My dad was yakuza. Still is, probably." He remembered meeting Aoba's so-called friends, Virus and Trip, and how baffled Aoba had been at Koujaku's instant dislike of them. Of course, Aoba couldn't have known. "He had a wife, but she couldn't have children. My mother was his mistress, and when she had me... his wife hated her even more than before. She made her life a living hell, so Mom finally decided to move back here with me. And for a while, we were fine."

He sipped from the tea, letting Aoba digest that part of it. Aoba had turned a little to look at him, his eyes wide.

"And when you left..?" he prompted at last.

"My father wanted a successor. His wife still wasn't able to conceive, so..." Koujaku shrugged. "He decided I was the only choice. Mom couldn't say no, not without him making her life a living hell. I didn't want to go, especially after I knew what he was, but it didn't matter. Neither of us mattered, really, except for what value we could bring him.

"So we went back. He formally stated I'd be his heir, and then to make it official, he had me tattooed. I couldn't do a thing about it." Koujaku closed his eyes again, a memory of blood and pain and cruel laughter echoing through his brain. "It wasn't until later that I finally got away. I ended up coming back here to try and... I don't know. Deal with it all. Plus, with Toue shutting down any travel to or from the island, my father couldn't send anyone after me, so I knew I'd be safe here."

Aoba swallowed. His hand came to rest on Koujaku's arm, just for a moment; his fingers were warm from the cup. "What about your mom?" he asked, voice quiet.

"She's gone," Koujaku said. He couldn't quite stop his voice from shaking.

"Oh." Aoba sounded genuinely unhappy, no doubt remembering sunny afternoons in their kitchen, a more innocent time for all of them. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Koujaku managed a smile for him, weak though it was, and pressed his hand atop Aoba's in thanks.

"Anyway," he said, after another sip of his tea, "that's about the long and short of it. You didn't miss much."

"I wouldn't call that 'not much'. You're a whole different person," Aoba said. He'd reclaimed his hand, but he leaned forward and set his cup down on the table now. "I'm kinda angry at myself for never asking about what happened while you were gone, honestly. What kind of friend just goes on like -- all that time passed, and I never even asked, not once."

Koujaku shook his head. "Not like I was offering." It had been easier to keep Aoba at a distance, after all, especially after he'd realized how he felt about his friend.

Maybe this was good, though. He'd been able to talk to Aoba -- and about some pretty serious subjects, no less -- and hadn't once thought about his feelings for Aoba or how Aoba's proximity made him want to do things--

Koujaku gulped the rest of his tea to try and hide the flush rising to his cheeks. "Anyway," he said, "I should go take a shower. You don't need to stick around, I promise I'm not going to drink myself to death."

Aoba's head tilted as he watched Koujaku stand up. "You OK?" he asked, blinking.

"I'm fine." Koujaku rubbed a hand over his face. "Don't forget to give Mizuki his key back."

"So I just get kicked out like that?" Aoba said. A note of annoyance had entered his voice.

"Aoba," Koujaku said, feeling suddenly very tired. Here he'd thought they'd managed to bridge a little of the gap between them... No, he told himself, that wasn't fair. One brief chat, even if it had touched on some deep topics, wasn't going to fix everything.

"I'm sorry," he said instead. "I'm still kind of feeling out of it. You want to hang around, I won't kick you out, but I do need to get a shower."

"Don't need to tell me," Aoba replied, looking away and waving a hand before his nose.

"Oi," Koujaku growled. He felt a smile tugging at his lips as he headed back to the bathroom again. As he stripped down, he could hear the clinking of tableware: Aoba back in the kitchen, tidying up. It made him feel hollowed out, like someone had scooped everything out and left only his ribcage intact; all too clearly, he could picture this as a typical evening, getting the dinner dishes cleaned away while one or the other of them got ready for bed...

His throat working, Koujaku started the shower up, cranking the water as hot as he could stand it.

Koujaku felt a bit more like himself once he'd showered and dressed. As he finished with the last few details, tying his hair back and sliding his hairpin in, he blinked. He could smell coffee now, and heard something frying in a pan. What in the world--?

Aoba was cooking. In his kitchen.

Koujaku stared. He didn't think he'd ever seen the kitchen quite so clean: not that he was a big slob, as he didn't like to present a slovenly image when he had women over, but Aoba had scrubbed every surface. And now he was making eggs in a pan, a simple scramble with some cheese, the smell of which made Koujaku's stomach rumble.

"What's this?" he said, blinking.

"Breakfast," Aoba replied, glancing over his shoulder and smiling at Koujaku. He'd taken off his jacket; he made a slender figure standing at the stovetop in his dark-blue shirt and jeans. Koujaku's throat ached. He wanted more than anything to step up behind Aoba and wrap him up in his arms.

Carefully, he stepped around Aoba to the counter where two mugs of instant coffee were waiting. "When did you start cooking?" he asked, taking one of the mugs and cradling it in his hands. "Taking lessons from Tae?"

"I mean." Aoba shrugged, turning his focus back to the pan. He'd added some freshly diced bell pepper into the scramble now; he was busy tending to it, but Koujaku could see the pleased little smile on his face. "I figured it was time I start trying to do some of this sort of thing myself. Can't depend on Oba-chan forever."

Koujaku stepped to Aoba's other side to retrieve the little bottle of milk from the fridge. "I'll get the rice started," he said.

"Already done." Aoba nodded toward the rice cooker, which Koujaku saw now was gently steaming, its cycle complete. He shook his head in amazement.

"I'm about to ask you to move in with me," he said, adding milk to his coffee. "Damn."

"This is what happens when you leave me alone for too long," Aoba said. Though the comment didn't sound hostile or even annoyed, Koujaku felt his shoulders hunch anyway.

"You seemed like you needed space," he muttered.

"Where are your plates?" Aoba asked. Relieved at the topic change -- though he knew it wouldn't last -- he put down his coffee and reached to an overhead cabinet to take a couple out.

The food might not have been quite as good as Tae-san's, but Koujaku wasn't going to complain when he was getting a home-cooked breakfast. He wasn't even sure he'd had cheese or bell peppers -- or eggs, even -- in his fridge, which meant Aoba must have run out while Koujaku was in the shower.

"It's good," he said after the first bite of the scramble, because it was -- and because Aoba's smile at the compliment warmed Koujaku more than it should have.

This was bad. It was so bad. It was exactly the reason he'd been avoiding Aoba all along. Worse, the time spent apart had only made Koujaku even more keenly aware of everything about Aoba: the softness of his eyes, the plushness of his lips, his pale clear skin, the way his hair bounced when he moved, the length of his slim fingers on the chopsticks as he took bites of egg and rice.

Koujaku hadn't thought it was possible to hate himself any more than he already did. Fuck you, Mizuki, he thought, resolving to tell Mizuki exactly how much of a shit he was for doing this -- for loaning Aoba his spare key and sending him over here, for deliberately torturing Koujaku like this. What kind of friend--

"Koujaku," Aoba murmured, and Koujaku realized he'd stopped eating to fume about Mizuki.

"Sorry," he said. He made himself take another bite, than another. "It really is good, I swear."

Aoba side-eyed him, but went back to eating after a moment. Koujaku sighed quietly, relieved, and focused on his meal. Silence descended for a little while, then, comfortable, as Koujaku filled his belly and sipped at his coffee. For a brief time, he could pretend things were normal between them.

"So when were you going to say something?" Aoba said, out of nowhere.

Koujaku somehow managed to swallow the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken, rather than spitting it out. It made his throat hurt; he coughed, rubbing at his neck. "About what?" he croaked when he could speak again.

Annoyingly, Aoba was snickering at Koujaku's distress. When Koujaku glared at him, he flapped a hand and managed a "Sorry" in between his giggles.

"Whatever," Koujaku muttered, and started to push to his feet with the intent of getting some water. Before he could stand, Aoba's hand darted out, closing on his wrist.

Koujaku looked at his arm, with Aoba's hand covering the wrapping at his wrist, and then over to Aoba. "What, I'm not allowed to get up now?" he asked.

"You didn't answer my question," Aoba said.

"I don't know what you want me to say." Koujaku tried to free his arm. Normally, he wouldn't have had a problem shrugging off Aoba's grasp, but Aoba's fingers dug in, keeping a tight hold. He clearly didn't want to let Koujaku retreat, even if it was only to the kitchen.

"Mizuki told me."

Koujaku stared at Aoba. Behind the explosion going off in his head, one thought repeated: I am going to kill Mizuki.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Koujaku said, finally -- with an effort -- reclaiming his arm from Aoba's grasp. "Whatever he told you--"

He didn't even have a moment to try and get up, to get space between himself and Aoba. No sooner had he shaken his arm from Aoba's hand than Aoba was climbing into his lap, framing his face in those long-fingered hands, and glaring at him.

"Asshole," Aoba swore, and kissed him.

Stunned, Koujaku let it happen for a few seconds, even started to respond to the heat of those soft lips; then, as if suddenly remembering, he put his hands on Aoba's shoulders to push him back and break the kiss. "What the fuck," he said. "Aoba."

Aoba shook his head. His eyes blazed, angry and bruised. "I'm not stupid," he said. "I know you have feelings for me."

Koujaku felt heat rise to his face. "That doesn't mean--"

"Koujaku," Aoba said, his tone rising. "I know this is why you've been avoiding me ever since Platinum Jail. Why didn't you say something? Why--"

"What do you want from me, Aoba?" Koujaku's throat hurt again, for different reasons this time. "I can't do this. Not when you love Ren."

Aoba flinched at that name, as if Koujaku had slapped him with it. "Koujaku," he said again, softer, his voice raw.

"I know it hurts," Koujaku muttered. "I know you're lonely. You miss him."

"It's not that simple." Aoba swallowed hard. He sagged against Koujaku; despite his best intent, Koujaku let his arms slip around Aoba's body. He could allow himself this much, he thought. Aoba's head came to rest on his shoulder. He breathed in the faint scent of Aoba's hair, felt Aoba trembling in his arms.

"Aoba," he said, quiet.

"I love him," Aoba said. "But I love you, too." He lifted his head again, his eyes dark as they met Koujaku's again. "It doesn't make sense, I know--"

Koujaku had reached the very end of his restraint; now, seeing Aoba's eyes again, hearing those words, he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He pushed in to kiss Aoba again, an arm tightening around his waist. Aoba made a little surprised sound, but he met the kiss, his arms coming up to circle Koujaku's neck.

After the past several months, it didn't seem real to have Aoba in his lap, kissing the breath out of him. Koujaku couldn't resist sliding his hands under the hem of Aoba's shirt, feeling the warmth of Aoba's skin there. It was worth it for the helpless, hungry sound Aoba made into his mouth; encouraged, Koujaku rucked the shirt up more, baring Aoba's chest to his exploring hands.

"K-koujaku," Aoba said suddenly, his voice low. Koujaku blinked dazed eyes at Aoba. "No, you're, it's fine, but..." His face had gone red; now he gave Koujaku an apologetic smile. "I have to go to work."

"You're shitting me," Koujaku said.

Aoba laughed weakly. "I wish I was. I didn't... I only came over here to talk to you, and then it felt weird to just leave after we talked, so I thought, breakfast, right?" He was awkwardly tugging his shirt down again; guiltily, Koujaku helped him, tucking the shirt back into Aoba's jeans. "And then... all this--"

"It's OK," Koujaku said, though he couldn't help a laugh. He tipped in for one more kiss, keeping it sweet as he could, and was rewarded with a little sound from Aoba that made him shake. It was all right. He could be patient now. He had everything he wanted.

When he saw Mizuki later that day, he gave his friend a smack upside the back of the head and then tugged him in for a quick, one-armed embrace. Surprised, Mizuki laughed and rubbed at his head.

"Can't be too mad at me," he pointed out.

"You're as bad as a meddling old woman," Koujaku snorted, and got a smack of his own for that.

He texted Aoba during the day, a brief message asking if he wanted to go out and get dinner later. Now that Koujaku knew where they stood, he didn't want to waste any more time. He'd spent almost four years pining after Aoba; he intended to make up for every minute of it now.

Aoba's response was equally brief: 'sounds good, I'll let you know when I'm done here'. It ended with a little blushing smiley face that made Koujaku smile like a fool and stare at the message for several seconds. Then his customer peevishly asked if he was going to get back to her hair, and he apologized, closing his Coil screen and picking up his scissors again.

Koujaku made sure to close up shop before five o'clock. He knew Aoba's hours varied, depending on what tasks Haga-san needed him to run, and that Aoba often ended his days with deliveries that could take time -- especially if he got bogged down at Yoshie-san's shop. Still, when he hadn't heard from Aoba by six, he couldn't help but begin to worry a little.

'Haga-san keeping you late?' he typed; he was heading back towards his apartment, styling bag over his shoulder, wondering if he should linger in Beni-shigure territory for a bit. There was no telling where Aoba might have been sent, but if he was leaving right from Heibon, Koujaku could meet him there.

No response. That worried Koujaku, especially since Aoba had texted him back almost immediately last time. Biting his lip, Koujaku dialed up Heibon next. Maybe Aoba had been kept late there.

The line only rang, though, until the after-hours greeting came on; sighing, Koujaku ended the call. He couldn't do anything if Aoba wouldn't answer him, but it seemed odd in the light of this morning's revelations.

Sighing, Koujaku decided to head back over to Black Needle. It wasn't far from his apartment, and Aoba was as likely to turn up there as he was anywhere else.

"You again," Mizuki said with a grin when Koujaku approached the steps leading up to Black Needle. His smile faded as Koujaku came up to him, though, and he tilted his head.

"Something wrong?"

Koujaku sighed, dropping down to sit on the steps next to Mizuki. "Not really, no, just..." He rubbed at the back of his neck and then glanced over at Mizuki. "Has Aoba been by?"

Mizuki shook his head. "Not today. I was planning on asking him to thank me for sending him over to your place this morning, actually. Haven't gotten to gloat sufficiently yet today. Why?"

"Oh, just..." Koujaku wondered suddenly if he was overthinking things. Surely Aoba was just busy. Yoshie-san probably had him trapped at Delivery Works, making him try one of her overly-sweet creations. "It's probably nothing. I was hoping to take Aoba out to dinner tonight, but he hasn't texted me back since about noon. Tell me I'm being stupid, Mizuki."

Mizuki gave him a gentle cuff on the shoulder, though his smile was sympathetic. "It's not really like Aoba not to respond at all," he said. "Even if he was busy, he'd get back to you eventually."

Remembering the time last year when Aoba had disappeared, Koujaku couldn't help but suck in a breath. Then, he'd been kidnapped by that giant Mink, who was after Aoba for reasons of his own. If things were starting to happen again...

Mizuki's hand was gentler on his shoulder this time; Koujaku looked up at him, trying to force a smile to his face.

"Come on inside," Mizuki said. "I'll make you a drink."

An hour later, night had fallen and the bar was busy. Beni-shigures mixed with members of Dry Juice, starting friendly arguments, boasting about recent accomplishments, loudly proclaiming friendship for one another. Koujaku didn't feel better with a beer and a shot in him, especially after last night, but munching on pretzels at the bar was better than drinking at home alone.

When his Coil went off, he nearly leapt from the barstool. Mizuki laughed at him as he pushed through the crowd to the doors, answering as he did so.

"Aoba?" he said breathlessly.

"Koujaku, I'm so sorry I didn't get back to you earlier--" Aoba sounded like he'd been crying. Koujaku's hand went to the hilt of his sword. Whoever had hurt Aoba wouldn't live to see the morning.

"It's OK, just tell me where you are, what happened. Are you all right?"

"Oh!" Aoba sounded genuinely surprised; he hiccuped, then laughed. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I'm fine. There was -- I'm at the hospital, but it's not, nothing happened to me. Or Oba-chan," he added, before a new fear could rise in Koujaku's mind. "No, it's. You're not going to believe it."

"What is it?" Leaning heavily on the wall outside Black Needle, Koujaku felt a slow surge of dread sinking in.

"It's Ren. He's here."

Koujaku walked to the hospital in shock. He could have taken a bus or a taxi, he supposed, but he needed the time to process Aoba's words.

Aoba hadn't been quite clear on it, which made Koujaku wonder if some of the explanation would need to be kept quiet. He'd said that he'd received an odd phone call that afternoon, from an unknown number, saying that a family member was at the hospital and had requested his presence.

"Of course, I thought it was Oba-chan, but she was out helping someone and got mad at me for even suggesting she might have had an accident." Aoba had given another of those hiccuping laughs at that. "And then I got here, and they just said the person's name was Seragaki, so I was super confused..."

Logical, Koujaku thought, since the only Seragakis on the island were Aoba and Tae-san. Aoba's parents had left Midorijima sometime during the time when Koujaku himself was on the mainland; they'd only communicated infrequently since then, Aoba had told him, so it couldn't be them.

"And it's. I walked into the room and it was Ren. Sort of. I'll explain when you get here," Aoba had concluded. The tone of his voice there had told Koujaku what he already suspected: that whatever had happened, it was something to do with the strange circumstances of Aoba's history.

He remembered Aoba telling him what he'd learned during his journey into Platinum Jail. To be honest, it still didn't make a lot of sense to Koujaku, who tried to approach the world as pragmatically as possible. He believed what he saw, the evidence of his eyes and ears; he wasn't particularly spiritual, though he knew he himself had been through some strange things that couldn't be rationally explained.

Aoba himself was the product of genetic engineering, and there was no denying that he had a special power that could influence people's minds. Koujaku had felt it firsthand when Aoba had stopped an argument between himself, Mink, Noiz and Clear -- one that would have absolutely escalated into a fight if it had been allowed to go on. Koujaku remembered his anger rising, and then a blank calm as he agreed that fighting wouldn't help them at the moment, not when Tae-san needed to be rescued.

If that was possible, then there were no doubt other things in this world that existed beyond his comprehension as well. His own belief, or lack of belief, wouldn't change that.

So maybe the person who had come back to Aoba was Ren, his consciousness somehow placed into a body to become a whole physical being. Koujaku had no idea how that could work, or whose body it might be, but that part seemed almost irrelevant. The main fact was that Ren was back with Aoba where he belonged, and Koujaku had just become a completely useless third wheel.

At the hospital, he found Aoba pacing in the waiting room, nervous energy evident in every movement. His head snapped up when Koujaku came in, and a smile of relief crossed his face.

Koujaku's heart turned over in his chest. It felt like a million years since that morning, when Aoba had climbed into his lap and kissed him. That moment would have to remain safe in Koujaku's memory now, a touchstone to keep him warm.

Before Aoba could say anything, Koujaku came up to him, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Tell me what happened," he said. He'd have to be the one to set the boundaries, he knew; that would start now. Aoba swallowed and nodded.

They found a small seating area near the elevators; Koujaku bought drinks from a nearby vending machine and pushed one into Aoba's hands. Aoba popped the can open, tipping it up and all but pouring juice down his throat, while Koujaku carefully didn't watch how his Adam's apple bobbed as he drank thirstily.

"So." Aoba sank against the bench with a sigh. "I told you most of it already, I think. This is gonna be the part that sounds super fucked up. You know Ren was part of my mind first, before he became my Allmate." Koujaku nodded -- he had retained that much, even if it didn't make sense to him -- and Aoba went on, his eyes trailing up to meet Koujaku's. "When we talked in my head, at the end -- he said he had to leave, because his own persona had developed so much that he couldn't just go back into my mind. I didn't want him to go, but he left anyway. And right after that was when Sei asked me to destroy him, because he was dying but he couldn't go. Because of what Toue did to him."

Koujaku nodded again. Aoba's hand crept over to cover Koujaku's. Despite his earlier resolve, Koujaku couldn't push him away. Not right now. Aoba needed the emotional support.

"So... what I think happened, anyway, is that... Sei died, and." Aoba had to pause, his voice low and rough; moisture shimmered in his eyes, and Koujaku fought the impulse to pull him into an embrace. "I think Ren's mind went into his body. Because he... he sort of looks like Sei, but he doesn't, at the same time. Sei had black eyes, and Ren's, they're gold now, like he looked in my head, or when we were in Rhyme."

That didn't make sense, either, but Koujaku reminded himself of what he'd been thinking on the way over, of things that were beyond his knowledge, and didn't object to it. Instead, he turned his hand under Aoba's so that their palms pressed together, curled his fingers around Aoba's hand.

"And you're sure it's Ren," he said.

Aoba nodded. "It was his voice. And he... he licked my nose. Like Ren used to do." That made him giggle for a moment. "We talked a little bit, but he's still really weak, and he had to sleep. He said he was in a coma for a long time, but he woke up recently, and... whoever's been taking care of him, he didn't know, they just brought him here and had him admitted. He was on the mainland, I guess."

A mysterious benefactor, caring for a stranger. It sounded too good to be true, and it probably was. Still, they'd done a good thing, so Koujaku didn't feel too inclined to investigate. "I'm happy for you," he said instead. "After all this time, especially since -- I mean, this shouldn't even have been possible, him coming back."

Again, Aoba nodded, and this time Koujaku saw a streak of wetness slip down Aoba's cheek. Aoba rubbed at his face with his free hand. "It's real," he whispered. "It's really him. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't touched him and felt him breathing, but it's real."

As gently as he could, Koujaku released Aoba's hand. "You'll finally get to be with him for real," he said.

Blinking, Aoba looked up at Koujaku again. "Wait," he said. "Koujaku."

"I won't come between the two of you," Koujaku said.

"But--" Aoba sat up straighter now, hurt in his eyes. "Koujaku, this doesn't change what I said--"

"Of course it does." Koujaku raked a hand through his hair. "Everything's different from how it was this morning, Aoba. I can't possibly -- not now that he's actually here--"

Aoba was still staring at him, his face gone pale. Too late, Koujaku wondered if he even should have brought this up now. Was it too soon? Was he jumping to conclusions? Why was he even thinking about things like their feelings for each other at a time like this?

"Aoba," he started, "I--"

"No, it's fine." Aoba stood up suddenly, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Sorry I bothered you. Go ahead and take off if you want."

Koujaku stared at Aoba. He hadn't expected this brittle hostility all of a sudden. "Aoba," he said again.

"God, everything I said this morning and you just act like it was nothing at all?" Aoba whirled on him. His voice dropped to a hiss as he stepped in close; Koujaku stared up at him. "I honestly can't believe you think that little of me. Not to mention of yourself." His hands came to the panels of Koujaku's kimono, gripping them; Koujaku could feel him shaking. "I don't even know why I can't stop feeling this way, but I love you. Asshole."

Aoba's kiss bruised his mouth, fierce and angry. Koujaku wanted to push him away, to pull him closer. They were in a public space, in open view of anyone who might walk by. He didn't care. When Aoba pulled back from the kiss, his lips were glossy and his eyes dark.

"We should maybe get out of here," Koujaku said in a low voice.

Aoba managed a rough laugh. "Yeah, I guess." He shook himself, made his hands unclench from Koujaku's kimono, and stepped back, taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna go say goodnight to Ren, and then let's go somewhere and talk."

Koujaku nodded. Before Aoba could step completely out of reach, he reached to grasp for one of Aoba's hands, pulling it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. He didn't deserve this moment of grace, and he knew that, but he could at least show Aoba he was grateful for it.

Aoba's cheeks went pink, but he was slow to step away and take his hand back.

He didn't want to go back to his apartment right away, but a loud place like Black Needle wouldn't do for the conversation they needed to have, either. In the end, they returned to Aoba's house, where Tae-san had left dinner warming for them in the oven. Aoba dished up beef and potato stew for them, and they ate quietly at the table, Aoba's foot pressed to Koujaku's underneath.

After they ate and cleaned up, he followed Aoba upstairs to his room. It was habit to head for the balcony, reaching to his belt pouch for a cigarette and matches; he caught himself before he actually took anything out, though. He wanted the open air more than he did a smoke right now.

Aoba followed him as far as the open door, where he stood, leaning on the doorframe. Koujaku turned toward him; leaning on the railing, he felt the pressure of his haircutting bag and slipped it off his shoulder. He'd put Beni in there in sleep mode when he'd left Black Needle to go to the hospital when Aoba called. Sighing, he unzipped the bag and took Beni out, activating him with a tap to the head.

"Phew!" Beni said at once. "You gotta clean that thing out, man, it stinks in there--" Hopping to his shoulder, Beni looked around, head tipping this way and that. "Why are we at Aoba's? What's going on?"

"Hey, Beni," said Aoba, raising a hand. He looked relieved, some of the tension eased from his stance. "We were just hanging out."

"Hn." Beni's sharp gaze went from Aoba to Koujaku, then back again. "Something's going on that you're not telling me about."

Koujaku had informed Beni that morning, after Aoba left for work, about what had happened; he knew Beni would never have forgiven him otherwise, Allmate lack of emotion or no. Now he'd have to fill Beni in on the rest of the day's events; he wasn't looking forward to that one bit.

"Ren's back," Aoba said. "Sort of. It's a long story, but he's human now."

"What!" Beni hopped up, zooming over to Aoba and fluttering in front of his face. "And you didn't tell me?! You're such a jerk, Aoba!"

Laughing, Aoba made a grab for Beni, who easily avoided him. "I'll take you to visit him, I promise! He's in the hospital right now."

With a glower, Beni landed on Aoba's raised hand. "You'd better. He's my friend too, you know."

"I will, I swear." Aoba gently rubbed a finger on Beni's head; Beni closed his eyes, leaning into the light pressure with a coo of contentment. Koujaku couldn't help but smile: this was exactly why he'd taken Beni out, hoping to return that light to Aoba's eyes. He couldn't make up completely for what he'd done at the hospital, but this could go a little way, maybe.

"Anyway, Koujaku and I need to talk," Aoba told Beni. "If you don't mind."

"I'm gonna hear everything anyway," Beni promised, but he flew back into the room. Koujaku tilted his head to watch as Beni landed on the still Allmate form that Ren had once inhabited. It made his heart hurt a little; Beni had lost a friend, too, even if he couldn't mourn the way people did.

Aoba's smile faded only a little as he came over to the railing next to Koujaku. "So," he said.

Koujaku swallowed. "Yeah, I'm an asshole. I know. You don't have to tell me."

Aoba let out a sigh; he turned, elbow resting on the railing, to face Koujaku more directly. "You say that so easily," he said. "I know you believe it, and I hate that so much. Do you think I would have fallen in love with you if you were really an asshole?"

How could he say things like that so casually? Koujaku closed his eyes, rubbing his face with one hand. "No," he admitted, quiet. "But you don't know everything about me, either."

Maybe he should have told Aoba earlier, he thought ruefully. If he had, Aoba wouldn't have kept trying to make this work. He'd just be with Ren, and everything would be like it was supposed to be.

Aoba's hand covered his where it gripped the balcony railing. "Tell me," he said. "Koujaku, I promise I won't judge you."

"I can't." Koujaku's voice rasped out of him. He was so pathetic; even now, he couldn't make the words come out, couldn't bear to feel Aoba's scorn, his hatred. He wanted to cling to this tendril of affection, no matter how small it was. "Aoba, I can't."

"Koujaku." Aoba's voice had gone low and persuasive. Koujaku made himself look at Aoba, saw Aoba's eyes burning golden. "It's all right. Talk to me."

Somehow, his mouth opened; the words began to spill out against his will. He heard himself babbling about the tattoos, the artist who'd come to his father and begged for the privilege of tattooing the heir to the clan. How it had taken months, how excruciating the pain had been. How, when it was finally over, everything had gone blank. He didn't remember anything, even now, except that he'd come back to himself with blood everywhere, soaking into the floors and walls of his father's house.

"I remember lifting the katana," he said, "and realizing it had been in my mother's body." Aoba was still watching him with those bright gold eyes, his expression serious, but his eyes went wide at that. "She wasn't gone yet. That was the worst part. She told me... she told me she was sorry--"

He felt like a fist had squeezed all the air out of his chest. He sucked in a huge gasp, then let it out again in a sob. Aoba's arms pulled at him, dragging him into an embrace; shaking, Koujaku could do nothing but let it happen. He felt himself sobbing like a child into Aoba's shoulder, shaking, wailing like he hadn't since it had all happened.

When he came back to himself, they'd both sunk to their knees. He was sniffling, and he wiped a hand across his nose, pressing his eyes into Aoba's shoulder and the wet patch he'd made there.

"I k-killed so many people," he whispered, voice raw. "I killed my mother. I wanted to die for what I did. But I couldn't. I couldn't make myself." Aoba's hand stroked up and down his back, a mercy he didn't deserve. "Every time I tried, I th-thought about your smile. When we were kids, when we'd play together. I couldn't... I couldn't do it. I should have, but I couldn't."

"Koujaku." Aoba's voice was soft. "Koujaku, I'm so glad you didn't. I'm so glad you're here."

"You shouldn't be." Wretched, Koujaku tried to pull away from Aoba, who only clung to him even tighter. "I'm a killer. Even now, if I get angry, I... I don't know what happens. I get lost in it."

Aoba continued to hold him. Koujaku couldn't understand why; how could Aoba even touch him after what he'd confessed? After a moment, Aoba drew back, but only so that he could clasp Koujaku's face in his hands. His eyes were their normal hazel shade now, green shading to soft brown around the pupils, making Koujaku wonder if he'd imagined the difference in color.

"I'm not gonna say it doesn't bother me," Aoba said, soft, serious. "But I know that's not who you are. I know you, Koujaku, and I know you don't just go around killing people because you can. You're always so careful when you have fights on the street, or with Beni-shigure. You're not a bad person."

Koujaku shook his head, his throat working hard as he fought a new wave of tears. "You didn't see it," he said. "You weren't there."

Aoba's thumb brushed under Koujaku's eye, wiping away the wetness there. "Maybe not," he said. "But it doesn't change how I feel about you now."

"You know how crazy that sounds, right?" Koujaku hiccuped in spite of himself. "I told you all that and you don't have a problem with it?"

"Look, I won't lie and say it isn't scary as fuck. But I knew there was a lot of stuff that happened when you were away. I did some pretty stupid shit, too, and I didn't even remember some of it until... until Platinum Jail." This time, it was Aoba's turn to look away, his eyes dark. "Like playing Rhyme, getting into a lot of fights and shit, really hurting people. I'm not saying it's on the same level," he added, before Koujaku could protest. "I'm just saying there's stuff we still haven't talked about."

Koujaku closed his eyes, nodding and letting Aoba fold him into his embrace again. He was suddenly so very tired; the day had been long, and after all of the emotion of their conversation, he felt drained. When Aoba urged him upright and inside to collapse on the bed, he went without protest. Tomorrow, he thought, he'd make all this right somehow.

He awoke to a sweet weight laying across him: Aoba, sprawled like a starfish, taking up as much space as he possibly could. All things considered, he thought, it was certainly a better way to wake up than yesterday morning had been. Granted, he still had a headache, but this time it was because of all the tears he'd shed, not from half a bottle of whiskey.

Gingerly, he shifted, moving to rest on his side. Aoba rolled with him, making an unhappy sound but letting it happen. Aoba always had been slow to wake; that hadn't changed about him, and it made Koujaku smile as Aoba shifted against him once more, curling up against his chest. Koujaku brushed a delicate hand over the rumpled cloud of hair, breath caught in his throat. When Aoba didn't respond, he let his hand sink into the soft wealth of Aoba's long hair.

He'd wanted to do this ever since he could remember. Even when they'd first met, when Koujaku had thought Aoba a girl because of the length of his hair, he'd wanted to run his fingers through it and feel its silkiness. For a while, he'd been able to pass off his curiosity as professional interest: after all, hair was Koujaku's business, and he could hardly let Aoba mistreat his hair on his watch. But it was soft and fine under Koujaku's palm, with only a few dry ends that might need a bit of maintenance -- and that wasn't enough to make Koujaku want to stop touching it.

"Enjoying yourself?" Aoba mumbled against Koujaku's chest.

His hand froze. "Sorry," he said, lifting it up as guilt flooded through him.

"'S fine." Aoba tipped his head up to blink sleepy eyes at him. "Doesn't hurt or anything. Lost most of the feeling in it after last year, anyway."

Oh. Koujaku carefully lowered his hand again, though he simply allowed it to rest there, cupped at the back of Aoba's head. "I didn't know."

"I didn't say." Aoba slipped a hand between them to cover a yawn, then nestled himself in against Koujaku some more. He was so warm like this, half-awake and loose-limbed; Koujaku barely wanted to breathe, afraid he'd wake up and find it had all been a dream. "But yeah, play with it if you want."

Another sensation was beginning to rise as Koujaku began to stroke Aoba's hair again, fingers cautiously sorting through the strands, untangling locks here and there. He couldn't deny he loved the feeling of Aoba's hair under his palm, but he'd never have thought the action of petting it would actually turn him on.

Aoba's head tipped up again; his eyes were dark, whether from sleep or other things Koujaku wasn't sure. One thigh slid between Koujaku's, a hand slipping around Koujaku's waist, more thoroughly winding them together under the bedspread. Koujaku had removed his kimono last night, and the heat of Aoba's hand on his bare skin dizzied him a little.

"Do you have to go to work today?" Koujaku whispered.

A smile teased at the corners of Aoba's mouth. "No," he replied, and pushed in to kiss Koujaku.

This was still a bad idea. Koujaku knew this. But it seemed as if he couldn't say no to anything Aoba asked anymore, and so when Aoba pushed him to his back and climbed over him, he let it happen. Aoba straightened up and tugged his shirt off; mesmerized, Koujaku ran his hands up over Aoba's chest, only pausing when Aoba suddenly giggled and bent double over him.

Grinning, then, Koujaku attacked Aoba's sides in earnest. He wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slip by. Aoba's laughter rang out openly; it was only when he pushed at Koujaku's hands, breathlessly begging him to stop, that Koujaku finally let up.

He rolled them over as he did, settling himself atop Aoba to kiss him again. He couldn't help a little tremor of pleasure; Aoba was so long and lean beneath him, so warm and sweet.

"Is this real?" he murmured. "Is this really happening?"

Aoba's hands came up to cradle Koujaku's face, and he leaned up for an easy kiss. "It's real," he said, his face glowing. "I swear."

In the end, there wasn't time to do more after all; Tae-san started calling Aoba for breakfast, and Koujaku pulled back from kissing Aoba with a guilty smile. He volunteered to go downstairs and smooth things over with her, but Aoba shook his head as he pulled his shirt on.

"You don't need to cover for me," he said. "Anyway, at least I'll be on time for breakfast for once."

Somehow, Tae-san didn't seem all that surprised to see Koujaku, though he didn't know if that was because she'd seen his shoes in the hallway or heard him with Aoba last night or this morning. He apologized to her repeatedly for the intrusion in any case, offering to help with the cooking, but was told in no uncertain tones to sit down and eat.

Afterwards, Aoba walked him to the door, stealing another kiss while Koujaku sat to put his shoes on. "I'll call you later," he promised, and Koujaku felt himself smiling uncontrollably as he left the house.

He'd planned to set up shop in the southern quarter today; a brief stop to his apartment to get cleaned up and gather his supplies, and he was on his way. Afterwards, Koujaku couldn't have described one customer at all. It was a miracle, he thought, that he didn't make any huge mistakes or trim anyone's hair too much. He brushed and combed hair, arranged and styled, all on automatic, his mind somewhere else entirely. At least no one complained, though there were the usual sighs and moans once he announced he was done for the day.

Koujaku gave the standard apologies, promised to let them all know when and where his next session would be, tucked his tools away. He thought he might go for a drink, or see what Aoba was up to.

Instead, he turned east and began to walk.

"Koujaku," Beni said, fluttering around his head. "What's happening? Where are you going?"

Ignoring him, Koujaku kept walking.

"Koujaku!" Beni landed on his yead and grabbed a lock of hair in his beak, tugging at it. Koujaku swatted a hand at the Allmate, who launched himself into the air again. "I'm talking to you, you jerk," Beni chittered at him.

"We're going to the hospital," Koujaku finally muttered.

Blinking, Beni settled to his shoulder again. "Are we going to see Ren?" he asked.

Koujaku nodded. He didn't know how to explain the impulse, wasn't even sure he could explain it. If he started to think about it, he might change his mind, and he knew that he couldn't let himself do that.

He loved Aoba. He knew that now, as sure as he knew anything else in his life. He had things he still hadn't told Aoba, but he thought those would come out in time, and somehow they'd get through that. He had the chance, now, to be with Aoba in the way that he'd yearned for -- as a partner, as a lover.

Despite the whirlwind madness of the past couple of days, though, of Aoba's stubborn insistence on confessing his feelings to Koujaku, not letting Koujaku push him away -- even getting him to open up last night about what he'd gone through on the mainland -- there was one thing that remained heavy in Koujaku's mind, the constant that had kept him from pursuing Aoba in the first place.

No matter what, Koujaku had to face Ren. He couldn't move forward in his own head until he'd done so.

A brief consultation with an attendant at the front desk, and Koujaku was on his way up to the floor where Ren's room was located. Beni had gone quiet on his shoulder, for which he was grateful; he'd been able to talk things out with his Allmate in the past, but now wasn't really a good time for that.

Part of him had wondered if he'd run into Aoba here, since he knew Aoba wasn't working at Heibon today. He'd refused to entertain the notion for more than a moment, though, since it might have made him turn around and go home instead. But when he knocked on the door and then opened it, the room was empty save for the bed and the man resting there.

To be sure, Koujaku had no idea what he'd expected to see. His mental image of Ren was still a small, fluffy, blue-furred dog with big eyes and a spiked collar. The man in the bed was tall and lean, with dark hair fanned out on the pillow around a long, handsome face. His arms rested above the covers, hands with long shapely fingers draped across his midsection, and he turned to blink golden eyes at Koujaku as he entered.

That handsome face lit up in an unexpected smile as Koujaku put a foot into the room. "Koujaku?" he said, and Koujaku couldn't stop a shock of surprise. That voice, at least, he knew very well.

It was Beni who reacted first, though, launching from Koujaku's shoulder and darting into the room. "Ren!" he shouted, circling Ren's head several times in excitement before coming to land on one of Ren's hands. "Ren, it's you!"

"Beni," Ren said, and his smile was softer this time but no less genuine. Swallowing, Koujaku came all the way into the room and closed the door behind himself.

"Thank you for coming to visit me." Ren's eyes flickered up to Koujaku now; Koujaku swallowed, made an awkward bow.

"Sorry we didn't bring anything," he said. "It was kind of an impulse decision to come see you."

Ren shook his head, dismissing the apology. As Koujaku drew a chair up to the bedside, he saw that Ren's lack of movement wasn't simply tiredness: he looked drawn out, weak as an infant, skin pale and wan over too-thin limbs. While he might not have been familiar with how Ren should have looked normally, he was fairly sure that this was far from any sort of typical appearance.

"I truly am glad to simply see you," Ren said. "Even if I am still adjusting to seeing you -- or anyone -- from this perspective. Did Aoba tell you what happened to me? How I came to be like this?"

Koujaku nodded. "He did. It didn't really make sense to me, but I don't really understand a lot of what happened between you and him, or... everything else that happened in Platinum Jail, for that matter."

"As long as you understand that I am Ren." Ren's smile was fainter, this time, but Koujaku thought he saw just a hint of the old warmth in Ren's eyes from his time as an Allmate. "I don't know quite how it happened myself, to be honest. I remember being there when Aoba had to end Sei's existence, which was traumatic for him, and..." He shook his head. "I believe that with the absolute last bit of himself, Sei reached for me and brought me into his body. It felt rather like a blessing, if such a thing can be comprehended."

Koujaku remembered Aoba's arms around him last night as he sobbed. His throat worked, but he only nodded.

"Apparently someone removed this body from Oval Tower before it collapsed," Ren continued, gesturing at himself, "and took it away to the mainland. I still don't know who, nor do I understand why, or how they could have even known I was alive. I was in a medically induced coma for the past year -- none of which I remember, of course. When I awoke at last, it was in this room, in this body, with a nurse telling me I was here on Midorijima.

"She informed me that I'll be able to make a full recovery, but it will take time. Sei was also made to be comatose for most of his life, so his body was quite frail already. Still, I can't complain. I am alive, and I have an amount of agency that I never did before."

Koujaku nodded. He couldn't help but feel ashamed about his reaction to Aoba's joy at Ren's return; he'd leapt so quickly, too quickly, to the inevitable conclusion that the two of them would find their path together. But why wouldn't he think that way? He'd known from the start that Aoba loved Ren, even when there was no hope or thought of Ren somehow coming back.

"He told me that he confessed his feelings to you, too," Ren said suddenly. Koujaku looked up, wide-eyed, his heart pounding painfully.

"He -- he did," he confirmed, feeling lame, and swallowed hard. "But now that you're here--"

Ren's hand reached out toward Koujaku, stopping his words with that simple, graceful gesture. Beni hopped and then re-settled on Ren's other hand, his head tipping one way and then another as he watched each of them in turn.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Ren said. "I have this body, now, and it's mine. It's changed as I slept, I'm told. I'm taller than Aoba now, and my eye color is different than it was."

Koujaku blinked at him. He wasn't sure where Ren was going with this, but it seemed inappropriate to interrupt.

"I know you're used to seeing me only as an Allmate," Ren went on. "It doesn't help that for a long time -- including all the time in which I knew you -- I thought I was one as well. It was only after Aoba and I went into Platinum Jail together, and I was infected with a bug, that I regained all my memories and knew who I was. So I don't expect you to have feelings towards me. In a way, we've just met. But..."

His fingers flexed. Without thinking, Koujaku took the hand that Ren was holding out to him. It was warm, the skin soft and smooth. Ren inhaled; Koujaku saw color come into his cheeks.

Oh, he thought with some surprise.

"Perhaps it isn't so strange after all." Ren's low voice was soft, now, his eyelashes lowered so that his gaze was focused on their joined hands. "I was part of Aoba a long time ago, before I became his Allmate. He had feelings for you even then; though, as children, those feelings manifested as more of a simple, honest attachment. It's only natural I would have shared those feelings, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is." Koujaku rubbed his thumb along the soft skin between Ren's thumb and index finger. Was this weird? Without a doubt it was. Still, Koujaku thought, there was a lot of weird in his life these days. What was one more level of oddity?

"So it doesn't bother you," he went on, slowly, "that I love Aoba too?"

Ren shook his head. Wisps of dark hair fluttered around his face. "If I hadn't come back," he said, "I would have wanted him to be happy with someone who loved him. Me being here -- my feelings for you--" Ren took a breath, then continued at a steadier pace. "I know it's all rather complicated, and it doesn't help that this sort of thing isn't exactly common in human society."

Oddly, Koujaku felt the urge to move in and hug Ren, to comfort him. He restrained himself, only giving Ren's hand a gentle squeeze in response. "Tell me about it," he said, managing a smile. "I stayed away from Aoba for months because I didn't want to hurt him, and then he -- he told me about he felt about me literally the morning you showed up here, and it's been confusing the living hell out of me." Inhaling, he lifted his eyes to meet Ren's. "But. We both -- we both love him. And he seems to want both of us, too. So. I want to try to make this work if you do."

Ren's smile wavered a little and then widened. "I do," he said.

Koujaku let go of a slow breath as the fist that had been gripping his heart finally eased up. He didn't know how he felt about Ren, it was true, but he had time to figure that out now. They all did, really.

The door opened again. Koujaku hastily let go of Ren's hand, letting it rest on the bed again, his head turning at the same time. Instead of the medical personnel he'd expected to see, though, Aoba was stepping into the room. His mouth opened as he saw Koujaku there already.

"Hi," Koujaku said with a brief smile.

"Come in," Ren said, even as Koujaku stood up from the chair.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here." Aoba closed the door, though he lingered by it. Shaking his head a little, Koujaku stepped away from the chair and gestured to it. Aoba's eyebrow went up as he went over to the chair. "What were you two talking about, anyway?"

Koujaku couldn't help a smirking little glance over at Ren, who met it with a smile of his own. "Oh, things," Koujaku said. "Anyway, I'll give you two some privacy."

"Don't go too far," Aoba said, reaching for Koujaku's hand. He gave it a quick squeeze; Koujaku brought their clasped hands up, kissing Aoba's knuckles briefly. Aoba's cheeks reddened. Grinning, Koujaku let go of his hand and slipped out of the room, Beni soaring after him.

"No, you go ahead and get the door. I've got him."

"Koujaku--"

"Shut up and let me do this, all right?"

Aoba shook his head, stubborn to the last, but finally took the key Koujaku held out to him and climbed up the last set of stairs. As he did so, Koujaku turned to Ren, offering his arms.

"If you must carry me," Ren said with a heavy sigh, "at least let me ride on your back."

"Oh, fine." Koujaku rolled his eyes, but he turned and lowered himself, grasping at Ren's thighs as the man carefully hooked his arms around Koujaku's neck. With only a brief grunt of effort, Koujaku straightened again and began climbing the stairs.

To everyone's surprise, Ren had been released from the hospital after only a couple of months. Though weak when first admitted to the hospital, his energy had grown by leaps and bounds, as had his determination to get out of the hospital bed and learn how to live as a human being.

"He'll stay with me," Koujaku had said, when Aoba was fretting about how to tell Tae -- who still didn't know that Ren was now human instead of an Allmate. He didn't doubt that Tae would understand, somehow, but then there were living expenses to consider, not to mention that the house didn't have that much space. Koujaku's apartment had a second bedroom and bathroom: everything a recuperating convalescent might need.

At the landing, Aoba had already unlocked the door and now stood, waiting impatiently as Koujaku took the steps one at a time. Ren was nearly as tall as him, but still underweight and light; even so, he seemed to weigh more with each step up. At last they reached the landing, and Koujaku carried Ren on into the apartment itself.

In anticipation of Ren moving in, Koujaku and Aoba had cleaned up the second bedroom, bought and put together a bed. They'd had time to do little else, since Ren had been discharged quicker than anyone thought he would, but at least it had been made up already, covered with sheets and a duvet. Koujaku continued into the bedroom, turning his back to the bed so that he could set Ren gently down.

Ren's feet settled on the floor; a moment later, he came down on the bed, sitting hard. Koujaku turned at once, an instant's worry relieved when he saw that Ren was simply sagging into the soft bed, his eyes surprised.

"Softer than the hospital bed, huh?" he said.

Ren nodded, one hand smoothing over the soft fabric of the duvet. "Everything's nicer."

"Anything's nicer than the hospital," said Aoba from the doorway. He'd paused to remove his boots; reminded, Koujaku hastily shucked his off, while Ren toed out of the thin canvas sneakers Aoba had bought for him to wear out of the hospital. Hastily, Koujaku gathered everything up and went back to put their shoes back by the front door.

When he looked back into the bedroom, he saw that Aoba was sitting on the bed next to Ren, one of Ren's hands held between both of his. Ren's head was tilted towards Aoba's, while Aoba had raised his face to Ren. It wasn't the first time Koujaku had seen them close this way -- hell, the first time had been that day at the hospital when he went to talk to Ren; when he'd come back to the room, Aoba had been leaning over it, and he'd broken away from Ren with a guilty smile -- but now, here, in his apartment, it did something to him.

The two men he cared for most in the world were here. He'd been a little scared about how it would all work, but here and now, he knew without any doubt in his mind that it would.

Inadvertently, he made a little sound in his throat. Aoba flinched, but then relaxed, turning toward him with a relieved smile.

"You're too far away," Ren said, holding out his free hand.

Swallowing, Koujaku stepped into the room.