Chapter Text
Fukka had been friends with Iwamoto since they shared their first job. All they had to do was go along as extra muscle to intimidate some people who owed their boss money, but it was an experience neither would forget, as it made them realize just what they were getting themselves into. And that brought them together.
It’s not that Fukka had always wanted to get into organized crime. He never really knew what he wanted to do. But after dropping out of high school and spending years cycling through a stream of mind numbing part time jobs, getting treated like dirt, he decided something had to change. That was when one of his friends told him about his “job”. It sure sounded better than what he was doing before. More thrilling at least.
Iwamoto was younger than him, but more than made up for it in determination. At first they moved up through the ranks together, helping each other out allowed them to stand out amongst the other footmen. Recently Iwamoto had gotten a promotion by himself, placing on that allowed him contact with the boss. Fukka wasn’t jealous though, he had always admired Iwamoto and was happy to see his friend getting recognized for his tenacity.
But the promotion had changed their dynamic in an unexpected way. Iwamoto was in charge of more... subtle work now. Work that didn’t require as many people, only one or two of his choice. And his choice invariably included Fukka. At first the time they were spending together simply solidified their friendship, but lately Fukka was starting to feel something else. He had always thought his friend was handsome, but now the attraction was much stronger. Iwamoto was behaving differently around him too. Probably because their original age-based power balance had shifted, Fukka guessed that the younger man was a little bit uncomfortable around him now that he had to boss him around.
Last night they had to go give someone warning. Nothing too involved, just show up and act threatening. Iwamoto was startlingly good at it. They had to wait in the car for about an hour before the man arrived. Just the two of them. Fukka wasn’t ready to admit it but moments like that had become his favorite. Sitting together, alone, sharing the thrill and expectation. Sometimes they would talk, and sometimes they would sit in comfortable silence. And then Iwamoto would terrify someone. With only a look and a few words. And if Fukka was completely honest, it was kind of... sexy? And if Fukka was completely honest he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Last night Iwamoto asked him to kick the door open before the man could close it. Then he towered over the man and with barely a word left him a trembling mess. And it was specially sexy. So much so that Fukka felt on edge as they got back in the car. Iwamoto looked over at Fukka and it seemed like he was about to say something, but instead he turned away and said “Start the car”.
The ride back has been tense, Iwamoto seemed oddly fidgety. He seemed more fidgety lately, maybe it was the stress. Fukka had also noticed he wasn’t receiving as many pats on the back or casual hugs as before. Probably because of the new ranks. On the one hand it made it easier to not get flustered, but on the other... he kind of missed it.
When he was finally home by himself, Fukka flopped onto his bed feeling his heart pounding. Why had the car ride made him this nervous? He wasn’t sure, but it sure would be nice to take the edge off by leaving the house. As if on cue, his phone lit up with a Tinder notification. Nothing like a casual hookup to relieve some stress. Fukka changed into something more casual and less threatening and headed out to his favorite bar.
Surprisingly, Fukka’s date had invited him to spend the night. And, perhaps more surprisingly, he had agreed. As he relaxed in bed after a wake-up round, he let his eyes roam over the unknown bedroom. Everything seemed pretty standard, a table that doubled as a desk, four empty beer cans from the night before, a dresser where a stubborn pair of socks kept one of the drawers half open, a school portrait... Fukka’s eyes stayed on the portrait, where a group of boys smiled from a football field in matching uniforms. Then his gazed stopped on a smile that he knew, and it wasn’t the smile of the man lying next to him. It was Iwamoto’s smile. But it didn’t make sense. Iwamoto said he was from Osaka, his date had said he was from Sendai.
“Let me guess, you’re surprised I was on the football team” Fukka’s date had noticed him looking at the photo.
“Uh, kind of. Did you go to school with a guy named Iwamoto?” Fukka asked, trying not to seem too interested.
“Oh yeah, Hikaru. He was pretty good. Definitely better than me.”
“Are you sure you’re talking about Iwamoto? Isn’t his name Kenji?” Fukka felt uneasy, the info didn’t match up with what we knew, but that was definitely Iwamoto in the picture.
“No, I’m sure its Hikaru. My sister always made signs to cheer him on because she had a crush on him. I can’t blame her, but it was kind of annoying.” He gave Fukka an inquisitive glance, “How do you know him?”
Fukka had to think twice before the automatic response (work) came out. This guy had seen his tattoos, so he probably had a pretty good idea about what he did for a living.
“Uh, just a friend of a friend.” Fukka lied.
Back in his own room, he stared into his coffee cup feeling rather hurt. It wasn’t uncommon for people to lie or be vague about their past in this line of work but Fukka had though Iwamoto considered him a close friend, close enough to reveal something like this. He remembered some of the times when they had talked about high school and their hometowns and wondered how much of it was a lie.
Eventually, he decided moping around wasn’t going to help him. He had to confront Iwamoto as soon as he got the chance.
As it turned out, this “chance” wasn’t very easy to come by, as that week they had to do a few jobs that required more man power and barely got more than a few minutes alone. Iwamoto seemed to realize something was up though, as he kept glancing at Fukka with a mix of inquisitiveness and worry. His worry seemed to be more pressing than his friends’ desire to find out the truth, because it was Iwamoto who managed to get them both in a room together with enough time and privacy to have a conversation.
“Hey, Fukazawa, you’ve been acting a little bit odd this week. Is something wrong? Have I been making you uncomfortable?”
The last question struck Fukka as strange, but that wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.
“I could say the same about you.” He paused “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
Iwamoto seemed startled by the question, and seemed to be thinking of a response.
“It’s ok, you can tell me. We’re friends.”
Fukka noticed the other man flinch at the word ‘friends’.
“I don’t know if I can tell you. I’m afraid you won’t want to be my friend if I tell you.”
The expression on Iwamoto’s face did genuinely look scared. Fukka was starting to feel scared too. They were in organized crime, what kind of secret could ruin their friendship?