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The porcelain trembles beneath Choe's unsteady hands as he prepares Makishima's tea. He gathers everything on a tray and composes himself before stepping into the room, appearing before his boss. He's silently thankful that the younger man is reading, Choe simply sets the treats on a nearby table and exits the room without any ado. It's been hours since their visit with Mido-san, yet Choe can't shake the visit, the memories clinging to him like the smell of Sugawara's blood.
Choe readies himself for bed, though the mundane task does little to ease his frayed nerves. He sinks into the bed, burying himself in the sheets, but he can't shake the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He's never been good around blood, and though that little detail seems the first thing one would inform their blood thirsty, sociopathic accomplice, it was simply something that never came up in conversation, nor had it really needed to. Though Choe performs all kinds of tasks for Makishima, he's never partook in or been around for the murders he so often orchestrates; not until today. He flips and turns about in the bed until the late hour finally claims him, dragging him into a fitful sleep.
He dreams in red. Shapeless figures move about, screams and cries of agony can be heard in the gaps of gunfire. Choe finds he's running, until something catches his foot and he falls face first into the muddied ground. He pulls away to discover he's actually fallen unto a body, or what's left of it. He quickly moves away as not to retch on the poor soul, though vengeful ghosts are the last thing on his mind, even if he feels he's walking through a graveyard.
He's on the move again. Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he struggles to run away from the enclosing shouts and sounds of warfare. The figures finally close in on him and an explosion rips through his head. Red taints his vision once again as the man in front of him, the man who slept in the bunk next to his last night, is torn to shreds. Blood splatters across Choe, the liquid is warm and life like, as though he's been sprinkled with the man's very soul. The smell is strong and pungent, and he can't seem to get away. No matter where he runs, people are dying and falling to pieces all around him, until the blood flows like a river beneath his feet, and despite all the death, Choe wonders why he's still alive.
The faces start to become familiar. Friends. Family. Fellow soldiers. He thinks of all the people they're leaving behind, of the ones he left behind, how he'll never see any of them again. At last, through all the death and chaos, he sees Makishima Shougo. Joy and relief wash over him as he runs. As Choe reaches him, all hope vanishes as Makishima is pulled apart by the bright, blue beam of a Dominator. He screams, his voice joining the chorus of agony heavy over the battlefield. He screams until there is no sound, his throat raw from exertion. He falls to his knees and begins to claw at his eyes, in the hopes of being able to unsee everything. His fingers dig desperately into his flesh, blood runs down his face like tears and he can't help but think how ironically poetic it is.
A hand on his shoulder startles him through his despair and mourning. He moves to attack, all he can see is red. He lets instinct take over, his years of training and survival kick in. His attacker lets out a small gasp and Choe's fingers find his throat.
"Gu-sung." His name cuts through the pain and confusion.
"Gu-sung, it's me." The voice encourages as a hand cups the side of his face. Their thumb caresses the curve of his cheekbone, each gentle stroke brings him back down, one slow step at a time, until the cool air of early morning finally hits him, ushering in with it reality.
The first thing he notices is Makishima pinned to the wall and his hands around his throat. He quickly pulls them away.
"M-Makishima-san..." he stutters, guilt, fear, shame and embarrassment struggling to dominate within.
"It's okay. You didn't hurt me." Makishima says in his usual calm voice, though Choe still takes a step back.
"I thought I heard unusual noises from your room," Makishima begins, hoping his voice will have a calming, "and I became... curious, so I came to check on you."
Choe sits on the edge of the bed, his heart still threatening to break from his chest, his eyes nervously flitting about.
"It was in my head," he mumbles at last, to the younger man's relief.
"A nightmare, then?" Makishima inquires politely.
"No. More like," Choe vaguely waves his hand, a characteristic much unlike him, "...memories."
"Oh?" Makishima encourages. He watches the older man careful as he moves to the bed to sit beside him. "They were painful memories."
"From the war," Choe continues.
"Ah," Makishima remarks.
"I'm sorry, Gu-sung," Makishima places his hand over Choe's, his palm smooth and cool. "I would not have asked you to come along to Mido-san's had I known you'd react so negatively to it."
"Why... didn't you ever tell me?" Makishima asks, his hand never leaving Choe's.
"I don't know." Choe replies dumbly. It wasn't like he had a good reason and it wasn't a conscious decision.
Makishima drops the conversation, not wanting to fill the silence wit his usual book quote and anarchy talk in respect to the situation. Instead, he curls his slender fingers around Choe's hand, his thumb tracing his knuckles. A comfortable silence befalls the pair, the tensions of the night retreating to the shadows.
"Choe Gu-sung, please never hesitate to tell me if I've placed you in a situation you're uncomfortable with."
The older man's brows knot in confusion.
"That's an odd thing to say for someone who's intent on testing mankind to go beyond their limits to face their true selves."
"You thought I've been testing you?" Makishima asks with an air of amusement.
"Well, yes and no. It's only nature to test your subordinates to prove their loyalty."
"Choe..." Makishima breathes, his name somewhere between and sigh and a laugh. "No two people are the same, therefore no two people will be tested the same way."
"Are-Are you saying..."
"I tested you long ago, Choe Gu-sung. I know I can trust you. Why else would I have kept you by my side all this time?"
"I... Well, I thought you were just in need of my services."
Makishima smiles brilliantly, is face radiant in the darkness.
"Well, yes. But I enjoy your company as well." He shifts, ruffling the sheets as he moves to rest is head on Choe's shoulder, his white hair soft against his neck. They watch as dawn breaks through the cold dark of night and the shadows begin to fade.
"Gu-sung?"
"Yes?"
"You are not a subordinate, you are an accomplice."
"Oh. I've been promoted."
"You still have to make breakfast, though," Makishima teases.
Choe watches as the light outside grows bright, illuminating the room in a golden glow, as though trying to imitate Makishima's own amber eyes. The sunlight greatly fails in comparison, Choe thinks.
"I should get started on that," he replies, heavy with the realization he only got a few hour's rest. Makishima's hand tightens just a fraction around his own.
"It's been a long night," Makishima remarks. "Perhaps staying in bed for a few more hours would be beneficial."