Chapter Text
“But the place you return to is always slightly different from the place you left. That’s the rule. It can never be exactly the same.”
-Drive My Car, Haruki Murakami
These Aligning Contingencies
Ash had no appetite for bombshells. None of the sort, thank you very much. Surprises can turn deadly, especially on the Upper East Side.
Here was Ash, on the cusp of fifteen, snarling on the roof deck somewhere in Manhattan, the grip of his Smith and Wesson sticking out like a goddamn sore middle finger on his left side. Just behind him were Alex and Skip, more keenly intent to spread info about their impending doom than the hobo prophet outside.
“Arthur’s really out for blood for the shit we pulled,” Alex said. Ash could hear a flick of a lighter in there too. “Best we lie low for a while. Bones and Kong will be in Queens. I’ll be somewhere in the Bronx with my pals. You and Skip should go to Shorter in Chinatown-”
“No way in hell am I gonna ask that fishbowl bastard for help,” Ash huffed.
“He’s no longer a fishbowl bastard now that he’s grown a rooster crown-“
“Hmph, whatever,” Ash scowled at Skipper. His men have been giving the kid some pointers. He’ll polish this kid’s snark into a fucking diamond in a few years’ time. “Best we scram. Tell the others if Arthur catches ‘em to not die like dogs by begging for mercy or go looking for fights at all. You go with Bones, Skip.”
“What about you, Boss?”
“You shouldn’t be calling me boss or shit. Arthur wants my head. You lot rebelled like me, that’s all.” He looked at Alex and his already smokeless cigarette. “I guess I’ll go make sure he keeps his eyes on me.”
“Boss- Ash, we can’t have you, of all people-“
“You bastards won’t last five minutes,” Ash then turned to their direction and gave them his wickedest grin. “I’ll be back before ya’ know it.” He made his way towards the emergency exit, hand already affixed towards his gun.
He fixed his eyes at the windows of the buildings surrounding him, searching for rats. It was growing dark. Must be six around this time. Summer was ending.
No one was picking him up. Blanca had a meeting with that bald geezer tonight. He cocked his gun. He finally saw one of Arthur’s goons a meter away around the left. Time to raise some hell.
--
Half an hour later, Times Square was a shoot-out. The target was winning.
Ash ripped the sleeves of his shirt to tie a makeshift bandage around his leg. Thank fuck the bullet only grazed him. Jesus, he should really try befriending that sketchy doctor downtown. Blanca and he met him during Ash’s usual life-and-death matches and Blanca admitted he didn’t want to receive another helping of Dino’s fits for not keeping a keen eye on Ash’s shenanigans.
He looked around. Usual lifeless mooks on the pavement, a couple of store windows broken, same old scenario. No innocent blood spilt tonight, at least. Ash yawned. Blanca would have a field day tomorrow morning scolding him for getting sluggish. He scratched his head and felt something sticky. The lack of light showed congealed blood and some hair. Shit, fucker even nicked my scalp. He stole a glance behind the antique store he cooped himself from. Not a single soul in sight. He began to walk awkwardly, shifting most of his weight away from his injured leg. Guess he should take a cab and make that meathead pay.
He couldn’t believe his eyes though when he saw a lone figure in front of him, about four yards away. Ash immediately brandished his pistol and pointed it just between the fucker’s eyes. The shattered lanterns were just making this troublesome.
“Speak, or I’ll shoot your brains out,” Ash said. He definitely should build up his vocabulary to spin better threats.
The figure was still. Ash did not take another step and tightened his grip.
There was another of Arthur’s men missing from the carnage earlier. Ash pulled the trigger. Whoever that fucker was, it was behind this stranger.
By then, Ash managed to take painful strides to check if he performed a fatal shot. The other stranger, a boy who looked only a few years older, remained gobsmacked and was now on the ground, his forefinger trembling as he pointed at the corpse and then at Ash.
“Yeah, he’s dead,” Ash said absent-mindedly as he checked the glassy eyes and his silent wrists. The older boy covered his mouth then to stop himself from screaming. He looked Asian, his unruly pitch-black hair just a cut above his shoulder. His glinting black eyes seemed large. He wore a jersey uniform, the colours barely visible. “You’re not from around here, huh? Should’ve known Times Square’s famous for its massacres 24 hours a day…” He felt his skin prickling as the man’s eyes remained transfixed at him as he straightened himself, wiping the dust off his arms and pants. “Go home, your hotel or something…”
The man kept his beetle-black eyes at him. He kept sitting up, his legs still shaking. Guess he’s still looking at me to stop himself from looking at the dead body, huh? Ash thought as he went on ahead. This nutty dude should go home. Doesn’t look like he’s been hit. He made sure to sling his gun behind his back again. His eyes then shifted behind him. The boy was still there, in the same sitting position, looking attentively at the body a few inches from him.
Well, shit. Ash gritted his teeth and turned to the boy. “Hey, you Bambi bastard! Come with me!”
--
Fuck him. Fuck all of this. Blanca will be out for blood either tonight or tomorrow scouring through New York, that’s for sure. He kept his fingers coiled around the boy’s wrist as they rode the subway.
The stranger only kept blinking back at him with that look of genuine wonder on his face, mouth closed.
“Hey, you should keep close to me. Lots of bad shit goes down here,” Ash muttered, eyes ahead. No response. Fuck, who the fuck does this bastard think he is? He yanked him nearer, but with enough distance to aim fire at any asshole who tries taking a step near them. He peered at every passenger in case Arthur or any gang leader tries making a move.
The boy then began prodding at his clamped fingers. Ash turned to him. He was doing his best effort to point at his chest and at Ash’s hand. His mouth then wormed into a small smile.
Funny, but that expression wiped his mind blank and loosened his grip. The boy then had him carry his backpack which unexpectedly weighed a ton for Ash. “Hey, what’s the big idea-“ He snarled as the boy removed his jersey jacket, revealing fucking toned guns from his powder blue shirt. He then gave it to Ash.
“I’m not that cold…” Ash insisted before sneezing. Fucker saw me shoot someone and acts like my big brother- He felt his cheeks flame as he snatched it. The boy covered his mouth and giggled. He extended his free hand towards his direction again. This guy looked like an athlete. Posture was straight and if he gouged out his googly eyes he was pretty built. His body didn’t look as impressive as his teacher’s, but he looked capable.
By then, they stepped out of the Canal Street station. Ash keeping him close, unafraid of touching the skin as they ambled past the night markets in full swing and made their way towards the bend. “Ya don’t understand me don’tcha?” No answer. Figures, he snorted. His ‘hostage’ kept looking around him in restrained delight as they navigated through people selling mandarins and loquats and bok choys and mooncakes. Soon enough, they stopped at the dingy abode of Chang Dai tea parlour. “Yo big sis,” Ash said when they grabbed a table and had Shorter’s sister serve them. “I need to talk to your brother. We’ll get the rice rolls with spare ribs and egg rolls, please. Yeah, two-“
Nadia’s eyes shifted to the kid with him, who shot her the same smile he gave Ash earlier. This made him deflate a little. Must be his default expression, he thought. She gave the boy her own smile of disbelief before rushing to the counter.
“Look,” Ash said, grabbing his reddened wrist again to get his attention. “The one we’ll be meeting is gonna bring you back to your place, alright? If he’s in the mood, he’ll let you spend the night here. Pretty sure you can talk to him-”
“God, this is what I hate about you white people,” someone said to their right, decked in red robes and that red dumpling hat. “You think all Asians are Chinese.”
“Well fuck you,” Ash clicked his tongue. “Was raised a country hick so I don’t know shit.”
“This chap’s Japanese,” bearded man, Shorter, said as he pulled himself a chair and sat down between them. He craned his head closer and cocked his head at the boy. “What’s yer name, son?”
“Fuck you, like you’re any older-“ And not like this Japanese can understand him. He kept looking at Shorter warily. Shorter grinned and wagged his index finger on himself.
“Shorter,” he said in a slow and clear voice. He then pointed at his friend. “Ash,” he said now with coy undertones before pointing back at the boy. Shorter then repeats.
Instantly, his eyes lit up. Ash broke into a crooked smile as the boy rummages through his bag and takes out a foot-wide sketchpad. He then leafs through the pages and flips it to them.
A four-lettered foreign word was written neatly in block letters. It was upside down.
“Eiji,” he said, then pointing at himself and at the word, his face now scrunched up in steely determination. This made Shorter guffaw and receive a punch in the arm for the trouble.
“Shut the fuck up,” Ash snarled at Shorter before turning to Ash. “So… Ei- Gee, huh?” Ash pointed at him. Eiji beamed back.
“Eiji,” he repeated.
“Fuck you guys, I’m Shorter,” he said and extends his hand at Eiji. He shakes it tentatively.
“Eiji,” he said, smiling at him. Ash nearly choked on his glass when he saw him turn pink.
“And I’m Nadia,” Shorter’s big sister then said before landing a chop on Shorter’s head. “Your boys are outside looking for you. It’s the second time this night.”
“Yeah, yeah, tell them I’m out sick or something. I’ll meet them tomorrow,” with this, Shorter leaned in closer to Eiji, who hastily moved his head back. “So, what’s a fine man like you doing in a dump like this?”
“Eating the best food in the world that’s what,” Ash made sure to sock him away and signalled Eiji to eat. “My treat. Get as much as you like.”
“Hmm… the monsieur gave his pet treats for the week, I see,” Shorter said, twirling his braid.
“I’m getting back before they do another manhunt for me again,” Ash said, eyes vapid as he peers at Eiji blowing at his food before taking a bite. His cheeks glow before nodding assiduously at the both of them. “See?” he then laughed. “He likes them too.”
“What about him?”
“Let him stay here for the night and return him to wherever he came from,” he said in a flat voice. “Don’t think he can last a couple of minutes here without getting robbed or something. He saw me shoot one of Arthur’s henchmen and didn’t flinch when I dragged him here.”
“Really?” Shorter said, also fixating himself on Eiji’s eating. He left half of the rice rolls and was now devouring an egg roll. “This little guy trusts easily, eh?”
His friend nodded back. “I also got lucky this time around. Didn’t kill a bystander. Almost did, but-“
Eiji now looked at them both rather sheepishly, eyes shifting to his left. He pushes the plate of meat to Ash.
“What the hell, I said it was my treat-“ Ash said angrily before receiving an exasperated bonk from Shorter.
“Dumbass, he’s telling you to eat-“ Shorter then clapped his hands. “Give these two gentlemen another helping of their order, plus two pork buns and shrimp dumplings.” He cuffed Ash again on the head. “Read the mood, why don’t cha? He’s probably saying thanks.”
“Fucker, you should’ve just said so…” Ash muttered. Eiji pointed at the untouched food and then at him. Ash tentatively took the plates. “Yeah… thanks…” He flushed.
“You do look your age when you turn into a tomato like that,” Shorter said. “Even your ears are red-“
“Shaddup, dipshit-“ Ash flared up before looking at his meal and stuffing his mouth full.
Eiji nodded at him and didn’t laugh at Ash and his hamster cheeks.
--
An hour later, as Shorter and the rest began cleaning up the restaurant after closing, Ash as Eiji shift through the pages of his sketchbook. Pretty sure someone responsible knew this would happen. This also confirmed that this isn’t the first time Eiji got lost in a crossfire (do they have those in Japan?) and someone must have written an address here somewhere. Sure enough, three pages after Eiji’s name was an address written in the same block letters. Lotte New York Palace, Madison Avenue, Midtown East.
“The one near St. Patrick’s huh? Easy, I’ll get him there tomorrow,” Shorter waved off. “Now get out of our resto. I’m cleaning here.”
Eiji pointed at himself then at the two friends, and then at the noted address. Ash shook his head at this. “I’m going now. Shorter will bring you there tomorrow.” He felt a hard tug on the jacket. He turned and saw Eiji looking down. He tugged again. Right, he forgot about that. He took off the jacket and handed it to him. Eiji shook his head earnestly. He extended out that reddened wrist again.
“Dumbass, you want me to bring you there now? It’s dark outside dammit!”
Eiji pointed at Ash and then at himself, and then at the floor. This man’s so goddamn stupid. What’s the floor gotta do with anything?
“He’s asking you to stay, you blonde monkey,” Shorter slapped his forehead. “God, for someone who’s good at fighting and auditing, you’re pretty dumb.”
Ash gnashed his teeth. “I can’t stay. I should report to that bald geezer and my meathead teacher.” He remembered Dino putting holes in almost all the fucking residential buildings when Ash didn’t show up. “Look, I-“ he turned to Eiji. “I’ll come back to spend the night here, alright. Just gotta talk to my teacher first. It’s alright, innit?” He hollered at Nadia who was busy cleaning the kitchen.
“Pay for your meal, you shitty brat!”
“Yeah, yeah, will do later. For the extra room too!” Ash said, stuffing his hands in his pockets now. He looked at Eiji again and gave him a thumbs up.
Eiji nodded and returned a thumbs up too.
--
“You’re like a timid lamb, you know that?” Ash said two hours later on the floor of the Wongs’ guest room. He managed to knock on Blanca’s window and told him his plans, asking for him to make up an excuse for Dino (and extra cash). Blanca also dressed up his wounds, something he had forgotten on the way. Maybe that was why Eiji kept his stares but was too apprehensive to vocalize them. By the time he returned to cough up his due, Shorter waved it off. Eiji already paid for the meal.
“Guy’s loaded,” Shorter grinned. “Guess it’s true what they say about the Japanese. You should leech off him while you still have the chance.”
Ash made sure to get a good hit to his bald head before opening the door then. Eiji was still sitting on the full-sized bed wearing a fresh set of clothes, his eyes glinting at the sight of him. He gave a thumbs up.
“Uhm, thanks for paying. I’ll handle the transpo later,” he said. God, he should just keep his mouth shut. Not like he’d respond or understand you anyway. Eiji then turns on the lamp on his right and then points at Ash and the bed.
“Nah, we won’t fit,” Ash laughed. Eiji kept insistently pointing, however. He gets off the bed then and sits beside the American at his own makeshift one.
“Ashu,” he said. He even got the pronunciation wrong, Christ. He then pointed at the bed.
“Know what, you can scoot over here. Just take the blankets. It’s not that cold anyway,” he said, now pulling the covers. Eiji immediately nodded and began helping him set up. Ash yawned. Fuck, to be sleepy now of all the nights… He took out his gun and put it on his pillow.
Eiji looked at it.
“Yeah, it’s real,” Ash said after a beat and handed it to him. Eiji grunted when he took it with both hands. Made him remember the first time he took the gun from his dad’s collection as well. He doesn’t know where that gun was now, or how it felt when he hit his first target. Did his eyes gleam like this boy’s as he examined every cranny, felt the cool metal and wood? Ash made sure the barrel wasn’t fixed at Eiji before he could reminisce further.
The older boy bowed as he returned it on Ash’s hands. “重い,” he said.
Ash only nodded. He had no idea what Eiji just muttered, but he understood.
“It’s supposed to be,” he said as he hid the gun under his pillow. He honestly did not want to sleep yet. Eiji kept looking at him. He couldn’t get a whiff of what Eiji wanted, but he wasn’t looking at his face then his body.
Whatever might as well make him more comfortable. Ash took off his shirt. The older boy responded with an ear-splitting shriek.
“What the fuck-“ Ash managed to cover his mouth as Eiji closed his eyes. “Don’t wake up big sis, you dumbass virgin-“
Eiji kept signalling Ash to put on his shirt. Fuck, it would be nice if Shorter’s air conditioner was working. “Fine, I’ll put it on, ya wuss-“ Ash managed to sneak in more invectives under his breath. The Japanese by then rummaged through his bag and pulled out a white shirt with a fishbone printed on it. He took it out from its plastic.
This idiot was letting him wear his souvenir, Ash chuckled. Sure enough, he mumbled thanks as he replaced his clothes and took off his pants. Now that he noticed it, Eiji was wearing the same damn shirt. He pointed at them excitedly. His expression was infectious. Geez, you really know how to light up the damn room, you man-baby. Eiji patted his head, ticking him off. Was he some kind of dog now?
“You got your sketchbook?” Ash asked, signalling for something square. Despite his nature, Eiji had enough common sense and took out his ring bound papers. Ash then pointed at himself and his gun. “That’s what I do. I’m part of a gang,” he then began to do his best effort rendering Bones (a stick with fangs), Alex (a straw figure with extra tufts on its head for hair), Kong (a massive blob almost half the page), and Skipper (a thick bonsai with extra bushes on top). He did not bother drawing them guns. Don’t want to jinx them. “What about you?” His fingers flit at the jersey and then at Eiji before handing him the sketchbook.
Even under the lamplight, he knew Eiji was red. He then covered half his face with his arms and began to shake his head.
“Come on, you a gymnast or something? You’re not that bulky, but too toned to be some benchwarmer. I swear, I won’t laugh, no hahaha’s alright?” he made sure to cross both hands together. “I won’t laugh. You didn’t laugh at me when I made a fool of myself too, so-uh-“ It was his turn to hide half of his face. Eiji was looking at him again.
What was it that Eiji saw? Sees?
He then takes the papers, ruffles through a blank page and takes out his pencil that Ash had blunted. His hands then begin to sketch. All throughout, Ash would finally get his revenge and stare back. At the curve of his brow, the way he would subtly smack his lips together as he concentrates, and how his eyes would shine.
If eyes were windows to the soul, Ash could see galaxies. Meteor showers, comets, tilting planets, a trillion stars… It was fathomless, unfairly antinomical… He could feel his mouth parting in honest awe. Despite the vastness of those eyes… he doesn’t feel any kind of fear at all. Instead, he remembered the winters in Cape Cod, and how he huddled beside the fire, his brother’s hands on his. He finds it funny how the familiar feels so alien to him now.
Eiji’s eyes met his, making Ash turn away, hiding his face with his arms.
“Ashu,” he said, prodding him gently. This made Ash wipe his eyes as Eiji scooted closer to him, their shoulders touching. He laid the sketchpad on his lap horizontally, letting it land on Ash’s leg too. The younger boy couldn’t help but gasp. He’ll rip his sketches and toss them to the grill tomorrow. He could draw. The linework was clean, and the shading wasn’t as refined, but it was definitely leagues better than his.
“Eiji,” he said, pointing at the man on the farthest end of the picture. He was inside a dome and on the other end of the picture was a thin bar nestled on tall… sticks?
“You’re… a pole vaulter?” Ash asked incredulously. Him? He was taller than Ash, but he has seen bigger male athletes.
He nodded in reply. At least he could understand the words. Ash looked at the sketch and then at Eiji again, whose look of unease was present in his face at Ash’s loss for words.
“Wow,” was the only thing Ash can say. “You’re… incredible. Wow.”
Eiji bowed his head in response. “Sankyuu.”
“So you’re here in New York,” he pointed down and then at the sketch. “Cause of this?”
He shook his head. “Ibe-san,” he said.
“What the hell’s an Ibe son?”
“Ibe-san,” Eiji now pointed at the man just beside Eiji, not really visible. The man’s face was hidden by a camera.
“Oh…” Ash looked at Eiji and then at the sketchbook. “So he- he brought you here?” he pointed at the picture and then at Eiji and then down. This pointy business was confusing him. “Uh, ok just to clear up, you can understand me if I speak really slowly, like this?”
Eiji blinked back at him. Alright, he can still pick up the words then. Not much conversation to be mined though. It would be cool to listen to his stories about pole vaulting though. Like how he props himself in the air like that, how it feels to be on top of the world for once. How it feels for people to clap for you. Ash’s stomach squirmed at this. What a lucky bastard.
“Ashu,” Eiji’s face was just a few inches from his, making him yelp back. God, he still can’t find himself getting used to someone his age. He then wrote 17 in large thin writing just on top of his self-portrait. He pointed at Ash.
“Oh, I’m 14…. Yeah…” He’ll be fifteen this August though and still a shrimp. Goddamn, he definitely should drink more milk. He doodled the number beside Eiji’s handwriting.
The older teen proceeded to ruffle his blonde hair before giggling. “Onii-chan,” he pointed at himself. Ash felt a vein pop. Is that an insult?
“Fuck off.” Ash folded his arms and made his way to lean on his pillow and hit the gun for his trouble, he pushed it over and moved his body away from the person beside him. “Goodnight.” He could’ve done him in if that fucker knew passable English. Guess he had to resort to brasher tactics tomorrow. He’ll definitely own this smug bastard.
--
“Guess what? Eiji’s leaving tomorrow morning,” Shorter sang out as he handed each of them a bowl of congee and egg pancakes for breakfast.
“How the hell did you know that?” Ash asked as Eiji kept slurping on his meal with nary a clue who they were talking about.
“Duh, I gave him a calendar and pointed at a picture of a plane. In the end, I really am of more precocious stock than Ash Lynx.”
“Big deal. Anyone can do that. I, on the other hand, know he’s a pole vaulter and some Ibe-san brought him here.”
“You know that Ibe-san’s just a friend of his right? They tricked Eiji’s parents that it was a mandatory school trip.”
“How the hell did you know that?”
“All in Eiji’s sketchbook, babe. You know, you should work on your sketches. Rectangles aren’t round, dumbass.”
Ash snatched Shorter’s pork bun.
--
Turns out Shorter’s knowledge of Chinese characters was enough to keep Eiji’s attention on him, that motherfucker. This stinks. Wonder why the hell out of all the races, Ash would be some dumbass white. He should really learn some second language.
Eiji was also smiling more with that motherfucker. He can’t blame him though. Ash was just some snotty kid to this teenager. Maybe that’s why he let Ash hold his arm like that. Fuck him. Fuck them.
“Heard from my boys that Arthur’s mad as hell and looking for your men over the Eastside,” Shorter sighed. They were now on the subway with the early commuters. “You really gave it to him during your shootout last night.”
“And might pay my due if I ain’t too careful.” He was wearing Eiji’s jersey again. Japanese Luke Skywalker insisted that he kept himself warm. Ash also donned a cap (courtesy of Eiji again) to hide his wounds. He also asked Shorter to have him borrow his sunglasses, which was a firm no. “After dropping him off, might hole myself in the bald geezer’s mansion. At least I’m sure that rat ain’t gonna try killing me then.”
“It ain’t gonna be easy, bub,” Shorter signalled the touristy map of NYC on Eiji’s hands. “Eiji’s looking for Ibe-san, I think. He hasn’t returned to the hotel last night. That’s why our boy over here went out to look for him.”
“He might be there now though.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll check that first but if he isn’t…”
“You seriously want to help him?” Ash whined.
“That’s because I’m a hero of justice, little boy. I listen to the cries of those in need.”
“You have a crush on him, that why innit? You’re one sly motherfucker.”
“Watch your mouth, babe,” he patted Ash’s head when Eiji turned at them quizzically. He craned his head to whisper to Ash’s ear. “If Eiji finds out, I’ll do Arthur a favour and send him your pretty little head.”
“You really believe I’ll sell you in on that, man? Your secret’s safe with me.” I only need five minutes to wreck your life, you damn rooster. He’ll definitely give a 411 of Eiji’s reaction.
“You slept on the floor together too. I’m not asking for your bullshit.”
“Pass, dude’s definitely not interested.”
“You still hung over her, huh?”
“It’s only been a month, yeah,” Ash looked at the floor. “You really had to remind me.”
“Sorry. Arthur should pay for that.”
Ash shook his head. “He wasn’t responsible for anything.” He sighed and looked at the map on Eiji’s hands. He kept pointing excitedly at Central Park. “Ok, we’ll go there after we visit your hotel first.”
Eiji peered into his eyes once more and hesitatingly gave him a thumbs up.
He was lost for a moment and was unable to respond. By then Eiji extended the usual arm at him. “Ashu,” he offered, eyes brimming with determination.
Ash held his wrist and looked at Shorter. “I’m really that easy to read, aren’t I?”
His best friend shrugged and leaned closer to his ear again. “He’s just seeing you for who you really are, and he’s not afraid.”
“He should be.”
Shorter grinned. “Well so far, he isn’t. Either he’s seen worse, or he sees you’re worth something.”
“He’s just grateful I didn’t kill him,” Ash huffed. Eiji gave him a small smile before looking around the train again. Who’s the kid around here again?
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, But Arthur chose the right time to pick a gunfight with you,” Shorter said as they reached their stop. “Now let’s get Ibe-san and enjoy Eiji’s last day in New York!”