Work Text:
‘I, Kuze Hibiki,’ was all the paper said.
It was unfinished, for sure, because the pen was still there on the mahogany desk that was the main centerpiece of the study but-
Hibiki was all the way on the other end of the mansion. Locked in his room. Daichi heard the click of the lock before even taking a look at the new person Hibiki had over today.
Daichi looked around for any scattered papers because it didn't make sense. To walk all the way here to write an unfinished sentence? Then to walk all the way back?
What did it mean…?
The place didn't smell. The place looked near untouched except for that paper in the middle of the desk with some unwritten proclamation.
… what could it mean?
… Daichi didn't know if he'd ever know. The distance between them was too large to reach and just ask. No matter how close Daichi could physically get- no matter if Daichi was inside Hibiki's room.
The people Daichi escorted out of Hibiki's room today were a man and a woman. He went through his standard routine of seeing them out the door and getting some sort of payment so they could go safely. The woman, her brown eyes so like his own, looked to the side and pushed the money back into his hand.
“I assume you are Shijima. You are as thoughtful as he says. But you don't need to pay me anything, we’ve had it all taken care of.”
The man said nothing.
When they'd left, Daichi locked the door.
And walked to Hibiki's room for answers, because he wanted them no matter the size if that rift between them.
He didn't know what he expected when he turned the knob. For it to be locked? It wasn't- which meant Hibiki was very likely still in bed. For Hibiki to immediately tell him that he didn't need anything? Hibiki said nothing, the whole mansion had settled into a silence more still than average.
He wasn't expecting a fully clothed Hibiki. In a suit and tie and lying face down on top of his covers like he’d collapsed.
“... Is there something you forgot to tell me?” Hibiki mumbled, “I'm exhausted. Tell Shijima please, he’ll translate your terms a lot easier than… than… what was his name…?”
“Master?”
Hibiki’s mumbling stopped. His voice became a lot clearer.
“Hotsuin. That was his name. I think,” Hibiki pushed himself up and turned his head to Daichi, “But I really don't care. Why are you here?”
Blunt. It was like Hibiki's etiquette lessons never existed at all. But he took them years ago, and what applied back then didn't really apply now.
“U-Um- who were those people?”
Hibiki stretched and took his time too. He deliberately arched his back before shrugging his blazer off.
“They aren’t those types of people if that’s what you mean. They didn't make any mess for you to clean either, so that's that.”
Daichi noted how distant Hibiki’s voice was. There was no imperfection to it, no betrayal of what Hibiki might have actually felt. Daichi couldn't read him at all anymore.
“I didn't mean that- um- you aren't…”
“Naked? Drunk? A mess?” and then Daichi noted the bitterness, slowly creeping in Hibiki's tone. Slowly. Slowly, “It's okay to speak your mind, Daichi, I want to hear it from you.”
“That's not… I-I’m just- just curious about why these people are here. You didn't tell me they were coming so I assumed that they were…”
Hibiki was quiet. Waiting. And when Daichi said nothing more, he sighed.
“They’re here to help me with sorting out paperwork. That's it. Is that all?”
Hibiki pushed himself to stand on the ground, and Daichi didn't know how to act but step back out of the room.
“No, Master-”
Hibiki's expression went from perfectly neutral, to bitter. Bitter and unhappy.
“M-Master? Are you-?”
“I'll be in the study for an hour. Clean whatever needs to be cleaned here.”
And then Hibiki passed him, walking, but quickly.
“Master- wait,” he didn't wait, “I have another-” Hibiki didn't seem to want to wait- “Hibiki!”
And then he stopped.
He didn't turn to face Daichi. He didn't say a word. But he stopped.
“What is that paper- the one in the study? I'd… I'd found it when I was doing my rounds and…”
Hibiki laughed. Lowly. Small. Sad. Daichi surprised himself at the fact that he could read a low sound from Hibiki who wasn't even facing him. Surprised that he’d read anything at all.
“Don't worry, Daichi. You won’t have to be disgusted any longer.”
There was nothing to truly be disgusted about. Nothing that'd drive Daichi away.
Not the women Hibiki called to the estate.
Not the smell of alcohol that followed Hibiki on the frequent occasions where Hibiki drank himself into a stupor. Not even the rarer occasions when Daichi found Hibiki outside, smelling of cheap alcohol, sobbing into his hands loud and uncontrolled.
Not the even men Hibiki started bringing home. Not the way Hibiki’s room smelled of sweat and musk and unfamiliar cologne that made Daichi's chest ache.
… there wasn't even a body, a body that was to rot, that Daichi could be disgusted at.
Just a paper that was laid on top of Hibiki's tidy untouched bed.
‘I, Kuze Hibiki,’ it read, ‘leave all possessions, property and wealth to my dearest friend Shijima, Daichi.’
Was all it read.
And all of a sudden, Daichi no longer had to take care of the house. No longer had to do anything.
He was almost glad, really. He didn't do much except read those words over, and over.