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His target was a man with brilliant amber eyes. He was an easily distinguishable guy: pierced ears, a band-aid over his nose, ginger hair, atrocious fashion sense.
The target also had a warm smile and a loud voice and hated being tickled to the point he once threatened Junichiro with his gun. He hogged all the blankets and was a lousy cook, but made the best coffee in all of Yokohama.
He knew one day it would happen.
When Junichiro met Tachihara, the latter didn't notice he was there. Fukuzawa had sent him to dispose of Fyodor Dostoyevsky, leader of an underground organization.
As fate had it (or as Junichiro called it, Mori Ougai), he wasn't the only one sent to kill Dostoyevsky. When he was finally close enough to dig his knife on the target's heart, the large window of the room shattered and a bullet pierced his head right in the middle of the forehead. He turned furious to see who took his target to find Tachihara unmounting a sniper on the building across the street. He looked calm and perfectly poised, unaware of Junichiro's existence.
He left when all the members the Rats of the House of the Dead entered the room to discover their leader was dead. He didn't stay long enough to find out that wasn't Dostoyevsky.
When he arrived to report what happened Fukuzawa explained Dostoyevsky had a fight with his lover so said lover hired ten assassins to kill him, he was left baffled. Especially the part where Dostoyevsky knew about his lover's schemes and hired lookalikes to get killed instead of him. He didn't get too involved with that.
He mentioned Tachihara, but Fukuzawa disregarded him and said that if someone wanted his target, he only needed to be better.
The second time he met Michizou he was drunk and complaining about how he killed the wrong guy and still got paid. The bartender seemed unsettlingly unbothered.
Junichiro wanted to punch him; who cared as long as he got paid? As long as he could support Naomi, it didn't matter who he had to kill.
It would've been a nice dinner with Naomi if not for Tachihara drawing his attention the entire duration of the meal.
When they were done and getting ready to leave, he saw the person Tachihara was with carrying him out. Whoever that long-haired person was Junichiro respected them for putting up with Tachihara's whining without smacking him at least once.
They kept meeting after that; on every job, he noticed him somewhere in the distance.
Sometimes Junichiro got the target, sometimes Tachihara did.
Every time Junichiro took the target the other assassin went to lament his failure with a bottle of whiskey by his side. And whenever that happened, Junichiro celebrated with a row of tequila shots before going home.
Moreover, whenever Tachihara took the target, he would celebrate in the same way, and Junichiro would sulk with more shots than when he won against Tachihara.
It hurt his pride to admit it, but Tachihara was good at what he did: efficient, crude and done with one bullet.
It was beautiful in Junichiro's eyes until he was the one who took the bullet.
To be fair, it was an accident. Tachihara couldn't have known Junichiro was about to slit the target's throat, and Junichiro had no idea of Tachihara's precise location. It was only a scrape really, but enough to make Junichiro lose focus and for Light Snow to waver for just a fraction of a second before he realized what had happened and activated it again. It was a fraction long enough for Tachihara to know who was the one who sometimes took his targets.
That day it was Tachihara's win, and that day he didn't see the cute redhead who frowned whenever he celebrated and laughed with pride while he drank his shame away. Junichiro knew they were dots easy to connect, so he didn't go to that bar again.
After that, Junichiro won the targets over and over again. He knew Tachihara was somewhere near ready to pull the trigger, but he never did. It was more infuriating than getting the target stolen from him.
Was Tachihara taking other jobs? Was he getting paid? Was he getting in trouble for not getting the targets? Was he eating? With the fifth target, Junichiro saw an opportunity and decided he had had enough.
It was a couple; Sugimoto Junsa and his fiancé Yamagiwa. Yamagiwa had been investigating a politician who had much to hide. So it was placed in Junichiro or Tachihara's hands to deal with them.
They lived in a charming apartment on the fifth floor of an old building with a dining table next to the balcony, to appreciate the landscape they paid so much for.
Junichiro placed himself behind Yamagiwa during what would be their last dinner and deactivated Light Snow as he slit her throat.
Sugimoto had gotten up and pointed his gun at Junichiro. A bullet went through Sugimoto's head.
It was like the moment he first saw Tachihara, expect he knew where Junichiro was.
He turned to face the assassin on the neighboring building and winked before disappearing with Light Snow. Now, how would he explain this to Fukuzawa?
He chose to tell the truth: each of them took one target out. Maybe some details were neglected, but it wasn't like Fukuzawa had to know that.
Following that event, their next jobs became a game of who was faster. Junichiro would let Tachihara something that would reveal his location; a finger, the gleam of his knife, his piercing, anything that would give him an inkling of his current position. And even with Junichiro with the situation under his control, sometimes Tachihara still won the target, and after almost eight months of their games, Junichiro went back to the bar.
There, Tachihara was drinking his usual bottle of whiskey after winning a match. He was nervous, but he couldn't go a day longer without knowing who was the guy he admired so much and who made him put Naomi's sustenance as a wager on a game.
Junichiro sat in front of him with a smile on his face and congratulated him. Tachihara dropped the bottle, and Junichiro wished he had taken a shot or two before engaging in such a ridiculous interaction.
That day they learned each other's names. They were no longer the other assassin. In a career where they could change their names anytime, and where all the information about them was the one that left their lips, to each other, they were now Tachihara Michizou and Tanizaki Junichiro, and that meant nothing and everything at the same time.
They began to see each other after every job; they would criticize the loser and glorify the winner. They had fun, and then they went home.
Neither noticed when they started to go to other placed when they left the bar: to the arcade where Junichiro beat Michizou at everything, to the library where Michizou got the latest book of a saga he loved, to eat fast food and Michizou warned Junichiro to not do it often and he flipped him off, to walk around the park where they threw up after chasing each other drunk. In retrospect that had been a bad idea, but they were drunk and running around a park when drunk seemed like the perfect plan at the moment.
Several months passed until they began to wonder why they were thrown against each other. It was difficult to find the link between them. The information they needed had been buried, far from anyone's reach. But Junichiro knew a guy who knew a guy who had a gift when it came to computers and how to dig dirt on others.
They discovered their bosses used to have an alliance but, due to a certain circumstance, they concluded it in a bitter tone. That circumstance being Yosano Akiko, an ability user that Fukuzawa "took away" from Mori. Junichiro knew Yosano, she was their doctor, and the one that left him like new when Tachihara shot him.
Moreover, their relationship became irredeemable when Dazai left Mori's side to join Fukuzawa's.
The two worked in the Agency, a cover for Fukuzawa's illicit activities and where the ones who didn't want to kill worked.
Kyouka following Yosano and Dazai's steps was the last drop. Her joining the Agency matched with the first time he saw Tachihara. Either Mori was extremely petty, or they had something going on.
Not pleased with what they found out, the two assassins decided to turn themselves with the targets. Before each kill, they'd toss a coin. Junichiro was heads and Tachihara tails.
At some point, they exchanged phone numbers and texted constantly. Jobs arrived every two weeks on a typical month, so they didn't get to see each other much. It was during a calm morning when Michizou sent him a text asking if he'd like to have breakfast with him before heading to work. Junichiro gladly agreed. It became a regular thing for them: one would be somewhere and, if the other was free, he'd come to join them. On one of their spontaneous trips, they had their first kiss. They were walking back from watching a shitty movie, and they reached the crossroad where their paths separated but neither said goodbye. Junichiro fondled Michizou's hair and asked him if he could kiss him. Michizou later proceeded to laugh, said “I thought you'd never ask”, and then pulled Junichiro to kiss him, foiling his plans to initiate what he hoped would be their first kiss of many.
One night, while they were drinking after one of Michizou's kills, Junichiro suggested taking the matter to their masters. Ask them the reason behind their actions. Michizou bided against it; if he started to ask questions, Mori would have his head. But Fukuzawa was better than Mori if Junichiro asked he wouldn't kill him.
Seeing Junichiro enter the Agency building through the front door was a rare occurrence; most times he snuck in through the window.
He ignored all the puzzled stares and knocked on Fukuzawa's door. He heard a faint " come" in from inside and Junichiro did as he was told.
"I'm sorry to interrupt director, but there is a pressing matter I'd wish to discuss with you."
"And what might that matter be?"
He was as stern and imposing as always. With such demeanor, it was tough for Junichiro to speak. He slowly inhaled; this was the man who took him and Naomi in when they had nowhere else to go, he acted as the paternal figure they lost. He exhaled. He could do this. "For a while now there has been another assassin taking some of my targets," he started. "You told me to be better than him, and I've been trying, but I want to know if you know why he's always there."
Fukuzawa's expression didn't change; he remained as unreadable as usual. Was he expecting Junichiro's curiosity to get the better of him?
"Junichiro," the redhead stood straight at the mention of his name. "The Agency is under a grave threat, and you being placed against another assassin is my method of dealing with it. You have eleven kills, and he has thirteen; I need you to pull through. The Agency depends on it."
What in the fresh hell did that mean? Junichiro hated asking questions; it wasn't like him to distrust what Fukuzawa told him. Fukuzawa had always been truthful with him, and he never kept the information he required from him. If he wasn't telling him something, it was because he judged it was better that way.
"Why?"
Fukuzawa seemed as surprised as Junichiro felt. His master sighed, and he explained.
It turned out Mori wanted his assassins and his doctor back, but Fukuzawa wasn't having any of that. Mori threatened to destroy the Agency, but Fukuzawa proposed to have a match. Each of them would send their best assassin to all the requests they got, and whoever got the most targets after six months won. If Fukuzawa won Mori would desist on getting any of his former employees back, and if Mori won, he'd have the right to chose one member of the Agency to join him.
"And what if it's a tie?"
Junichiro felt ill as he left. They had a month.
When Michizou asked if he found out anything Junichiro lied and said Fukuzawa had refused to answer.
He started to use Light Snow to make it look like heads. He would keep the score even.
The month passed, and they were both left with fifteen kills. And as their deal called for it, they'd start again.
One year after he saw Michizou for the first time they both had thirteen.
So they started again.
And again.
And Mori grew tired of their draws. Michizou wasn't giving him the results he wanted, so he was useless to him.
Then Junichiro received a new target from Fukuzawa: the man he loved. The man he woke up with every morning, the man he loved and cherished, the man he lied to every single day to selfishly keep his happiness.
It was his fault.
He left Fukuzawa's office through the door. In the office, Naomi talked to Yosano, and Kunikida scolded Dazai while Atsushi tried to calm him down. Kyouka ate sweets with Ranpo as the guy spoke about one of his many solved cases and the little girl saw his with stars in her eyes. Eyes that were dead the first time Junichiro saw them.
Lying to Michizou hurt like a dagger permanently embedded in his heart, but the mere thought of losing on them made Junichiro feel his heart being ripped out.
He'd guard their happiness. He'd protect their laughs and hopes, their ongoing prank war and their Christmas parties. He'd keep together the family they made even if it was the last thing did alive.
Michizou left one evening to complete a job; the first one he'd gotten without Junichirou involved.
Using Light Snow, he followed Michizou to an abandoned building in front of a five-star hotel. The ginger set up his equipment and, while he did, Junichiro pointed a gun at him. All he had to do was pull the trigger.
He could do it.
For Naomi.
For the Agency.
Now or never.
Do it before you regret it.
He pulled the trigger, but the bullet never came out. A force took his firearm from his hands.
He froze when he saw a gun pointing straight at him. It didn't hurt when the bullet pierced him. He didn't register the pain. There was only place for confusion in his mind. Then he fell, Light Snow deactivated, and Michizou caught him as gently as he could. He was hurt, but the pain he felt didn't come from his abdomen.
"How—"
"I always know where you are," he explained and started to remove his hair from his face. "And I too have an ability."
Michizou extended his hand towards Michizou's gun, and it moved to him. The gun rotated in the air, and the bullet fell from the muzzle, then Michizou let it drop. "When Mori said he hired you I knew you'd try to kill me. I knew you'd do anything for your family, that's one of the things I love about you."
Junichiro panicked at the sight of his blood. Was he going to die? What would happen to the Agency? Michizou then moved his hands to his eyes, where he wiped the tears he didn't notice were falling. "Fukuzawa did the same to you. It was all part of their plan: to see who was truly the best."
"Michizou," he managed to breath out. "I'm sorry."
"I know you faced a horrible decision, but don't worry when I have my revenge I'll join you."
Michizou had talked about his brother, and how he died during the war. But he never spoke of revenge. Junichiro couldn't think clearly. He felt heavy.
"When Mori picks Yosano, it'll be easier to kill her. Once she's dead, I won't let you be alone anymore."
Did he know, for how long? Was it before he showed himself, was it after they slept together, was it when he asked Junichiro to move in with him?
"Don't hurt her," he begged with the last drop of energy he had.
"I'm sorry, my love, I'll make sure Naomi is safe."
He could barely see, barely feel, but there were things engraved in his muscles, things he wouldn't be able to forget in a lifetime. What he could feel were Michizou's lips against his; their last kiss of many they shared. The last one of many he wished they could've had.
Junichiro moved his hand to his pocket and took out his knife. With one hand he pushed Michizou's face to see his eyes one last time. He directed him a weak smile. "I can't wait for you," he whispered as he pierced his lover's heart with the blade and then pulled it out.
It took a couple of seconds for Michizou to react. He let out a dry laugh. "I fucking love you Junichiro."
Michizou fell back. Junichiro closed his eyes, and with his last breath he said, "I love you too, Michizou."
But it fell on dead ears.