Work Text:
The woods were dark this late at night, sucking in and killing any semblance of light until you’d think that the sun never even existed. Nishiki hadn’t realized it until now. Before, the car's headlights had illuminated him and his kyodai in a sickening dim yellow. The engine had hummed in the back of his mind, grounding him in the moment. But both of those things were gone now, along with Kiryu, and Nishiki was left strikingly alone in his silence. The light rustle of leaves overhead did nothing to calm him.
His throat felt tight and painful, and he swallowed again to relieve it, shifting his back lower against the tree he was leaning on. He winced, chewing on his lips; a nervous tic he’d never been able to get rid of. Small drops of blood entered his mouth, making his head spin at the sudden taste of it. He tensed his body, idly rubbing his hands against wet cheeks to clean them.
He needed a cold drink. He really needed a smoke.
He needed Kiryu.
Just the thought of him made Nishiki’s eyes start to sting again against his better wishes. It was uncontrollable and unwelcome. Kiryu never cried- he took everything head on and came out on top without even a struggle. Christ, the man had managed to get nearly the entire Dojima family out for his head and wasn’t even phased about it. Despite what he craved to be true- how much he wanted to be exactly like his kyodai- Nishiki was nothing like that. He was too emotional, too reliant on his allies for help when things got rough; never strong enough. Oh, he could dish out a fair fight if he wanted to, but it wouldn’t ever be enough to satisfy himself. It was like what Nishiki had said to him, he was nothing without Kiryu.
It wasn’t fair to compare himself to him, though, he knew that. Kiryu was born amazing. A little socially impaired and quiet, but perfect nonetheless. It was those tiny cracks in his solid exterior that Nishiki filled. Where one was lacking, the other was not, and between the two of them, they could almost have the semblance of one true Yakuza; strong, charismatic, and fearsome. Nishiki used to feel like he was okay with the fact that Kiryu would always be a few steps ahead of him- a fully grown dragon to a wishful koi fish- but after tonight, he wasn’t so sure.
If Kiryu wasn’t so headstrong and stupid then he’d never have gotten into this mess. We could be hanging out like normal, eating yakisoba and beers, singing karaoke, just the two of us. That stupid stupid murder! I never would have had to try and… Nishiki let his mind trail off, a wave of shame over taking him. He had been able to hold back his second wave of sobs until now, but the memory of the gun and how his eyes instinctively darted to where it sat on the ground set him off.
He hated crying. Nobody liked it. He couldn’t stand the way his throat closed up like he was suffocating; the pitiful gasps he made for air; how his shoulder shook and his mouth trembled. To him, Yakuza shouldn’t cry so much; maybe even at all. Nishiki quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, attempting to stop the tears before they got out of control again. It was almost worse when nobody was around to tell him off, ensuring that he had to calm down by himself. Pulling miserably at his overgrown hair, Nishiki replaced his anguish with rage- rage at what had happened to Kiryu and what would happen to him if he continued like he was. Was he back in Kamurocho already? How long had it been since he’d renounced their brotherhood and left him alone in the middle of nowhere?
Nishiki swallowed a sob and told himself that Kiryu hadn’t really meant it. He couldn’t have. They were kyodai- and even more than that, they were true brothers. Brother by oath and by childhood. They loved each other, willing to do anything to help one another. It wasn’t like either of them could one day abandon Yumi as their sister, so why could Kiryu do exactly that to him? He didn’t mean it , Nishiki told himself again, looking at the highway with dead eyes and a soft frown. He didn’t mean it- he didn’t. He was just saying it. He’d never betray me like that, and I’d never betray him. Brothers don’t do that.
The metal barrel of the gun caught the faintest gleam of moonlight, reminding him of a world outside of here. It was a world he had to return too; no use staying here forever. He sighed and forced himself to straighten his posture- compose himself just a little more. He grabbed the gun and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket, knowing he couldn’t leave it. His fingerprints were on it, afterall. He’d return it to Kashiwagi, hopefully without him ever knowing it was gone in the first place. A sudden wave of guilt overtook him concerning that, hastening his shuffle to the highway.
The gun felt heavier than it should be. It weighed him down as he started his trek down the road back to Kamurocho, having nowhere to go but home. What if I see Kiryu there? I can’t see him that soon , Nishiki abruptly thought. God, what do I do if he is there? Act like nothing happened? I’m not that much of a fucking coward. Nishiki bit his lips in anger, grabbing onto the sides of his sleeves with his arms crossed across his chest. It wasn’t exactly warm out in December, especially in the middle of the night at such a high altitude. I hope Kiryu’s warm. Where’s he going? Will he get into another impossible fight? Is he-
“Stop it,” he scolded himself aloud, watching the pavement as he stepped loudly over it. He needed something to fill the eerie night silence. Talking to himself wasn't a crazy-person act given his situation, he reasoned, wanting to roll his eyes. “Focus on yourself. Kiryu left you alone and you can live without him for a few goddamn hours. I don’t need him…”
Nishiki paused his walk and looked around, surrounded by the darkness. He suddenly felt more exposed than he’d ever been in his life; humiliated all the more. The painful (and likely internally bruised) spot on his nose began to sting again, reminding him of the actual most humiliating moment of his life. Who cared, though. Nishiki grit his teeth and pulled out his cigarettes, putting one between his lips as he fiddled around for his lighter, unable to find it.
You gave it to Kiryu, remember? He has it , taunted the voice in his head. He’s probably lost it by now, knowing him. Nishiki stood dumbly on the edge of the road, unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, achieving nothing. He snatched it out quickly, grasping it tight enough to crumble it. You can't even smoke right , he told himself, seeing that it was backwards. He huffed, curling in on himself defensively.
I need to calm down.
——
Nishiki felt his stomach rumbling by the time he made it back to the heart of Kamurocho. He was thankful to the driver who’d seen him and lent him a ride, knowing that he’d be much worse off if he would’ve had to walk the whole way. If only there were phones more easily transportable. He could have called Kashiwagi and been back at the Kazama Family headquarters instead of halfway across town. He could have called Kiryu to see how he was doing. Did he make it home alright? How many more fights did he get shoved into on the way there?
Stop it, you’re doing it again. Stop worrying about Kiryu. He’s strong enough to beat anyone, even Kuze or Awano. He doesn’t need me to fret over him like a girlfriend. Nishiki shook his head, following the busy night crowds of Kamurocho, only vaguely making his way to where he wanted to go. He was nervous to face Kashiwagi. That man could read him like a book, having every page, crease, and word memorized. Or maybe it was that Nishiki was just that easily taken apart. He didn’t do well hiding his emotions after all. The feelings of not wanting to lie to Kashiwagi and knowing that he’d have to fought in his head like a summer storm; chaotic and unwelcome.
Nishiki again wished for his lighter. Digging up the few coins he had in his pockets, he also wished for his wallet. He was starving and thirsty, having exhausted all the liquid in his body through his tears. No money and an empty belly forced his hand. He didn’t want to bother Reina so late at night after what she’d been through earlier. He also couldn’t add anymore to his ever growing tab. But luckily for him- or perhaps unluckily, given his current state of mind- the Kazama Family headquarters was just down the street from the Serena. Kashiwagi would never turn him away, as pitiful as he looked at the moment.
I need to tell him what’s happened to Kiryu, too , he thought, seeing the building coming closer. He needs to know that he’s okay, at least for now. And as okay as someone like Kiryu can be. Nishiki sighed, fiddling with loose strands of his hair as he entered the front doors, nearly stepping back outside in shock.
“Kashiwagi-san,” he blurted out, surprised to see the man halfway through putting on his jacket.
“Nishikiyama,” the captain said, the smallest trace of relief in his tone. “Where have you bee-”
“Kiryu’s coming back to Kamurocho and is going to keep fighting the family and get himself killed and he… he doesn’t care at all!” Nishiki blurted out. “I don’t know what to do for him, he’s insane! Kashiwagi-san, you have to help him! Please, sir!”
Unchanged, Kashiwagi folded his jacket back up and motioned for Nishiki to follow him. “Calm down, first of all, and come upstairs. We can talk there.”
“… Sorry.”
Nishiki dropped his shoulders as he followed Kashiwagi up the staircase, his hand dragging pointlessly on the railing. He felt worse than ever now, hating that he was burdening Kashiwagi. The man had been about to leave, probably for something important with who he was within the Dojima Family, and here he was, making him stay. No, this is important, too. He needs to know what’s all happened , Nishiki told himself, cursing the irrational part of his brain. As they entered the upper floor, Nishiki straightened up, forcing a strong diligence into his face. The room was still an organized mess; the shelving unit that Kiryu had fallen into still askew.
“I figured you’d come back here after we got the orders to hunt for Kiryu. But it’s too late for that to be the case. What were you doing, Nishikiyama?” Kashiwagi fetched a bowl and plate from a cabinet, along with a package of soba noodles that he opened before turning on the kettle.
“I was with Kiryu,” he confessed, watching Kashiwagi, unsure if he should sit down yet. “I trailed him- well, actually I trailed Awano who I thought would be near him- and picked him up in my car.”
“We aren’t meant to be helping him.”
“I… I wasn’t helping him.”
“Oh?” Kashiwagi muttered, watching the kettle intently, waiting for it to whistle.
“I drove us out of town, up towards the mountains. We didn’t talk. Kiryu just fell asleep, like he hadn’t rested in ages. But I guess he really hasn’t. Then I drove for a few hours in silence.” Trying to work up the courage to go through with my plan , he added silently to himself. He swallowed loudly, unsure how to proceed. “And Kiryu… We had a smoke. I gave him my lighter. It was quiet.”
“Nishikiyama,” Kashiwagi scowled, warning him to not get sidetracked.
“I know we’re all meant to be looking for him and bringing him to Kuze, but Kiryu is my kyodai, I couldn’t stand to see that happen. I know what they'd do to him, even after he gave up Tachibana’s location or whatever it is they want from him. What kind of a person would I be if I just let that happen?”
“One that’s loyal to his family, to the clan. You’re letting your personal biases sway you too sharply. You can't be loyal only to Kiryu, you-”
“I almost killed him,” Nishiki interrupted, his voice cracking high even if he tried to prevent it. Kashiwagi stopped what he was doing, a faint hint of surprise making its way onto his face. Nishiki felt his body straining and forced himself to blurt out the rest of the story. “I took one of your guns, I’m sorry. I tried to shoot Kiryu and give him a quick death but”- a whimper escaped him as hot tears began to roll down his face, blurring his vision-“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do one thing for him. I just started crying like an idiot and watched him drive away back here. He could be suffering right now because I couldn’t pull a fucking trigger. He even said we weren’t brothers anymore! I failed him!”
“ Nishikiyama !” Kashiwagi nearly shouted, his intimidating presence lessened by the bowl of noodles and tray in his hands. He glared, but it was plain to see that he was anything but angry with him. “Quit crying. You did nothing wrong.”
“But Kashiwagi-san, I-”
“Quit interrupting me as well. I wasn’t finished,” Kashiwagi stated as he sat down, placing the tray down gently on the table. The bowl was covered with a plate, trapping the hot steam inside.
Nishiki waited a few seconds before he spoke, just in case. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and stifled his oncoming sobs. “Sir, I let Kiryu go… He was going to let me shoot him after I told him, and I still couldn’t do it.”
“You wanted to offer Kiryu a quick and painless death. Even if you didn’t, you were prepared to do so out of love for your sworn brother. You didn’t help him escape town with the intention of hiding him. I don’t see anything wrong with what you did, Nishikiyama, besides taking my property without asking. Calm down.”
“I’m sorry, Kashiwagi-san,” Nishiki said, reaching into his coat pocket to give the gun back to him. He froze as Kashiwagi shook his head.
“I have no use for it; but you do. Let it be a reminder for when you’re older,” he said simply, waving his hand dismissively.
“A reminder of what?”
“Come on now, Nishikiyama, I don’t need to tell you that much.” Kashiwagi let out a faint smile, turning to the window beside them as he stood up, brushing down his suit sleeves. “You’ll see Kiryu again, and you two will settle things. Don’t let this one night define your friendship or you’ll always stay like you are now- in Kiryu’s shadow.”
Nishiki couldn’t help but flinch under Kashiwagi’s words. “Sir-”
“Your noodles should be ready by now. Don’t eat them too quickly, alright? I have to leave, don’t stay too late.”
Before Nishiki could voice a squeak of protest, Kashiwagi placed a firm hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. His unreadable yet genuine and understanding expression did more to calm him than anything before. They stayed like that for a few more seconds before Kashiwagi gave him a curt nod, exiting down to the staircase, leaving Nishiki alone in the office. He stared at nothing, finding no more tears to come. That was good; he’d cried enough for one night.
His stomach rumbled again, reminding him just how much he felt like he was starving. He gingerly lifted the plate from the bowl and set it aside, wincing at the hot steam that came rushing forth. This is for me? he wondered, gazing at the mouth watering soba noodles. He fidgeted for a moment before giving in, a twinge of guilt hitting him for being so relaxed in Kiryu’s time of peril. Despite what Kashiwagi had said, Nishiki couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d failed Kiryu. Maybe if he’d just toughened up a little bit more- been as fearless and strong as Kazama- he could have done it. He could have saved Kiryu from all the trouble he’d be facing for the rest of his life, however long that was now.
Nishiki chewed on his meal as he stared out the window and into the night-life of Kamurocho. The lights were as beautiful as ever, shining brilliantly, unaware and uncaring of the lives around them. He wished he could be like that, awful as it would be.
Kiryu… I’ll protect you. Please don’t worry. I have to be there for you.
I’m your kyodai, afterall.