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Chaos .
The only word appropriate enough to describe the atmosphere of the lobby inside a small hotel in the outskirts of Yokohama.
The poor clerk trying to understand the demands of the four strange men in front of her looked back and forth between a clown showering a pale man with magic tricks (the flowers he pulled out of his coat look oddly familiar…), A man with choppy half-and-half hair with a vein bulging out of his head, and a tired middle-aged man carrying a suspiciously large bag trying to talk over them. And, well, working where she did, she'd seen worse, but.
She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her face. She didn't get paid enough for this.
—–
Nikolai strolled through the hallway with his arms behind his head, whistling merrily. His friend, Fyodor, walked by alongside him, matching his speedy pace effortlessly. They reached their room door, Fukuchi and Bram having strolled to the opposite end of the hallway after getting off the elevator together. Sigma followed behind them, though passed their door to the room right beside it. Although Nikolai had thought that Sigma would be sharing a room with him and Fyodor or with Fukuchi and Bram (since technically Fukuchi and Bram only took up one bed, Bram sleeping in a coffin and all), Sigma had absolutely refused to accept these arrangements, damning them to hell and back and screaming aloud that he'd “much rather sleep outside in the pavement with racoons than to share a room with any of them.”
So although Fyodor wanted to cut the costs by having the Decay of Angel members share a room, it would be quite inconvenient to have one of its members eaten in their sleep by the evil, evil creatures that racoons were. Or perhaps racoons weren't as vicious in Japan as they were in Russia. Nikolai didn’t know.
Why were the Decay of Angels members checking in a cheap hotel in a foreign land? Because they'd come all the way from Russia to Japan to put the plans they had into action. The only ones familiar to the country here were Fukuchi, being a native although they'd all met in Russia, and Dos-kun, having visited a couple of years before. They had yet to find a base or a hideout as they had just arrived, and although staying in a hotel room was risky for them, as long as they kept their heads low nobody should be suspicious. At least, that's what Fyodor had told him, but Nikolai thought perhaps they hadn't been doing the best job of that.
Nikolai jumped right into the room the moment Fyodor unlocked the door, looking around him, interested. The hotel they were in wasn't particularly rundown, but it wasn't top notch, either. They got what they paid for, and considering the price they paid wasn't particularly high, neither was the quality of the hotel. But Nikolai had been through much, much worse, so staying a night or two in a shabby hotel wouldn't hurt him.
The view outside the nearby window showed nothing but black, the same view he had seen through the glass in the lobby. It was already late in the night, and he would have to go to sleep soon. That having crossed his mind, he opened the door to what he assumed could only be the bedroom, after he'd seen Fyodor open the only other door in the room, which had led to a bathroom. What he saw in the room drained his body of his soul. He gasped loudly, the breath having been stolen from his lungs, and he staggered backwards a few steps, his coat flurrying after him. Fyodor, concerned, quickly paced towards him to see what was inside. Upon seeing the sight, his shoulders sagged, though he still had the temper to throw Nikolai an exasperated look over his shoulder at the unnecessary drama from the clown.
There was only one bed.
There was only one bed.
"Oh no, Dos-kun," He exclaimed to the man, walking up beside him, "There's only one bed for us!"
How would they sleep tonight if there was only one bed? The bed in the room was extra-big, nothing you'd expect to see in a room for a single person, which must've meant…
"They must've given us a couple's suite!"
"Hmm. Indeed," Fyodor muttered blankly, staring up ahead at the bed.
"That's so strange! Why would anybody think we're a couple?"
"..."
Flashback time. Nikolai thought back to the scene at the lobby, where he had been showing magic after magic trick to his friend, who had been trying to talk to the clerk, but kept getting interrupted. Of course, the 'magic' from most of the tricks was spoiled by the fact that Fyodor was more than well aware of his ability, which he used for most tricks. The other ones, that relied entirely upon Nikolai himself, could be easily figured out by Fyodor even as they were being performed. Still, it was only when Sigma began to yell at him and shake him by the collar, telling him to "Shut the everlasting fuck up," that he stopped, right after having given his friend a bouquet of flowers he stole from the clerk's desk. The rest of his memories were a haze between having their leader constantly attempting to discipline them, like an exhausted father trying to keep his children in line (it wasn't working), laughing hysterically while Sigma argued with him — bursting a vein or two in the process, losing sight of Fyodor only to find him walking up to the clerk a moment later, and then having all of the men around him walk wearily to their rooms.
Hmm… maybe it was the fact that he had been constantly around Fyodor? Or maybe all the blame went to the bouquet he had given the other! Perhaps they just had a natural charm together. Anyways, with all the yelling and disorder that the lobby had been burdened with, it wouldn't have been surprising if she accidentally gave them the wrong keys, or maybe even just gave them any random keys to get them as far away from her as soon as possible. So, he suggested;
"Should we go back to the clerk and get her to give us a new room?"
Nikolai didn't mind sharing a bed with the other man. After all, Fyodor was his dearest, most intimate friend! But he knew that his friend was very touch-sensitive. The only time he ever touched another human being was to murder them, Crime and Punishment style. Nikolai didn't want to risk rolling over in his sleep or anything of the sort, and making him uncomfortable. He respected his personal space, after all!
" Sigh… it'd be quite troublesome… is this a problem for you?" Fyodor looked at Nikolai questioningly, an eyebrow raised.
He seemed so tired… and as Nikolai had mentioned, he was fine with it… not to mention, the bed had plenty of space…
"Not at all!"
"Alright. In that case, I'll start my work," Fyodor replied, heading over to sit on the bed and pulling out his laptop from the bag he had brought. What a workaholic! And yet it made sense that he would be so urgent to find them a permanent place of residence. But as for Nikolai, he was going to take a nice, cold shower.
—–
Nikolai yawned, draped on the rickety table in the center room. In his hand was a tv controller, a small television positioned opposite him playing some animal discovery channel. He was currently learning about the life cycle of a blobfish. His hair had been unbraided, still damp from his shower. He wanted to go to sleep already, because he was, for one, bored, but he was also tired. He was just waiting for his friend to come out of the bathroom, blow-drying his hair after showering, unlike Nikolai, who had been too lazy to do so.
He wondered how the other still had the energy to not collapse on the bed and fall straight asleep. He truly was impressive. After all, he was so tired that he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom earlier while Nikolai was showering! He wasn't even focused enough to look away when he saw Nikolai's form through the transparent curtains. It wasn't until Nikolai splashed him with the cold water after calling out his name several times that he snapped back to attention, apologized, and left. What had he even wanted there? Whatever it was, he must've found it later, since he went to shower right after him.
Nikolai had been hoping that the cold water from the shower would help him stay awake, but now its remains stuck in his hair just made him uncomfortably chilly. His eyelids were heavy on his face, gravity pulling them down, though he tried his best to keep them pried open. A battle between gravity and a mortal, lids fluttering open and closed rhythmically, like a ship bobbing up and down on water.
He still had to ask if Dos-kun had a side of the bed he preferred, you know, to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable. He leaned back in his chair, tipping it backwards while groaning loudly. He swung his chair back and forth, just short of collapsing on his back entirely when he felt a hand in his hair and realized belatedly that he no longer heard the annoying noise of the blow dryer.
"You seem tired, Nikolai. If you request it, we can go to sleep."
"Dos-kun! Finally! You were taking so loooooong I thought you'd never come out of the bathroom."
Fyodor felt Nikolai's hair, a small frown on his face.
"It's not good to sleep with wet hair."
"Well, technically, my hair is damp, not wet."
"Don't test my patience."
"But, Dos-kun! I'm too tired! I wanna go to sleep!"
Fyodor sighed, but relented nonetheless. The dark circles under his eyes made themselves ever the more present in that moment — he definitely didn't have enough energy to argue back, even if he did care about the wellbeing of Nikolai's hair. So rather than arguing back-
"I'll dry it for you."
Nikolai froze in place, chair still pushed backwards. He stared with wide eyes up at the man before him. His eyes almost shone with stars and sparkles that would’ve put the entire galaxy to shame — he was awed. He had no idea his friend cared that much!
"Well," he began, "If it's Dos-kun offering, I can't say no!"
And such was how they were currently in this situation, Nikolai sitting on the carpeted floor, criss cross applesauce, while Fyodor sat on a chair just behind him. He had brushed his hair with the most attention Nikolai had ever seen somebody give hair, precision in his every move, as if he was afraid to break even a single strand. After that, he plugged in his blow dryer to a plug nearby and began drying Nikolai's hair with the same precision. Wasn't it weird for him to pay so much attention to detail while he was so obviously tired? What a good friend he was! He even re-braided Nikolai’s hair afterwards so it wouldn’t get tangled while he slept!
And yet the moment was over in a flash, Nikolai's hair having already been half dried and not needing to have too much time dedicated to it. It was a few moments later when they decided to lay down to sleep, neither of them daring to look at the wall clock in fear of seeing the almost-certainly little amount of time they would have to rest before rising again.
Nikolai tucked in the blanket around himself, feeling Fyodor do the same behind him, his own back turned. As Fyodor turned off the lamp on his side of the bed where an old, moldy nightstand remained, Nikolai whispered a goodnight to his dear friend.
"Night night, Dos-kun."
"Goodnight." He sounded… strange, in a way. Was it the fatigue? Poor guy.
"Don't let the bedbugs bite!"
The other just hummed back. It was weird to Nikolai how close he sounded. He turned back around just enough to catch a glimpse of the other – and nearly bumped noses with him. He was already breathing slowly, troubled eyes already closed. And yet he had fallen asleep so close… Nikolai could feel the heat radiating off of him, warming him more than the blanket covering them both.
Nikolai turned back around and closed his eyes, replaying the busy day's events in his mind. Arriving in Japan, seeking out a hotel, the moments at the lobby, everything after that… he was drifting off.
It was a few moments later when a random sleepy thought kicked his brain. His eyes were suddenly thrown back open, an invisible light bulb blinking to life in his head, a sort of jingle twirling in his mind, something akin to the sound of guessing the correct answer on a gameshow. And it was like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle he didn't even know he was completing had suddenly clicked in place, his final picture laid out before him before he could realize it.
He whipped back around swiftly, bumping noses and all, no traces of his earlier fatigue left.
"Dos-kun."
No reply.
"Hey, Dos-kun."
Still nothing but silence. And yet he knew the other was a light sleeper — if he was even sleeping.
"You did this on purpose, didn't you?"
And, ladies and gentlemen, there it was! The moment the entire aura in the room changed, the first twitch in the character of Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
"I don't know what you're talking about," the suddenly very awake man murmured back, eyes remaining closed.
"Oh, but you do."
He knew the other would be seeing a manic glee in his eyes if he opened his own, because ohoho, he'd figured it out, motherfucker.
And now he would lay down all his reasoning for his conclusion, a detective displaying their evidence. Even if his theory had begun on instinct alone, the clues scattered throughout the land were evidence enough of his accuracy in his conclusion.
"Number one," he began, just like an actor on a stage, voice pitched dramatically, "My dear friend, you have been a very efficient man throughout the entire time I've known you! Hehehe, no need to thank me for the compliments, but -. For every plan A you have, there is a backup plan B, and then a plan C, and so on and so on! What I'm trying to say is — you are always prepared. You already have a hideout for the Decay of Angels and the Rats alike, don't you?"
The accused man just narrowed his eyes, having opened them at the beginning of Nikolai’s grand speech.
"Number two! Fukuchi, our leader, is a war god! Super rich! Even if we haaaad to cut the costs, which we don't, by the way, because you have lots of money ready for the Angels and Rats, you could easily convince him to pay for our individual rooms!"
"Number three! You very specifically asked for us to get a couple's suite, because-"
"Don't be foolish," Fyodor interrupted, clearly irked by Nikolai's accusations – he was usually very polite. "You were hanging onto me like a leech the entire time we were down there. When would I have had time to consult the clerk for a couple's suite?"
Nikolai giggled. How fun this is!
"Well, when you walked away from me, just as Sigma started yelling at me, of course! I had almost forgotten about that, but — If not asking for our rooms, what was it you were talking about with her?"
"And you disregard the simple chance that she made a mistake?"
"But that's not the case. Because you didn't want to go back and correct her about it, even though Dos-kun is usually very strict about his demands."
"Number four," he continued, not giving the other a chance to speak, "Dos-kun is an over-worker. I've personally seen you working around the clock many times! I even remember having been notified on a mission before that you got sick because of overwork! Therefore, you're used to staying up late and working for days in a row. Which means ," Nikolai dropped his announcing tone, voice dropping low,
"Dos-kun was very much aware when he walked into me showering, wasn't he?"
The wide grin Nikolai wore suggested more that he was ecstatic rather than scandalized, if anything, and yet the man across from him remained quiet, positioning his head so that his hair hid his eyes. Sneaky, sneaky.
"And number four! Fourth of all! Last but not least! Drumroll please," He whisper-yelled, back to his announcer tone, "Dos-kun is very antisocial! Wait no that didn't come out right-"
He cleared his throat.
"Dos-kun doesn't like touching people. He doesn't like being close to people either. I know because the only time I've seen him touch somebody was to kill them! So, why did you lay down so close to me when there's lotsa' space behind you?"
He laughed openly, his breath fanning across the other's face, still partly hidden by his hair.
"Am I special in your eyes, Dos-kun? Because all this could only mean-"
He lifted up a hand and grabbed the other's chin, tilting it upwards to see his ruby-red eyes again. They shone with confidence, even if his pale face was tinted by a slight shade of pink. Just the slightest.
"-That you just wanted an excuse to spend a night with me."
A few seconds passed with the giddy makeshift detective and the accused criminal staring, boring holes into each other's eyes.
And then-
Fyodor chuckled. Mirth reflected in his eyes, his lips curled upwards, yet still to no extent of the other's. Nikolai's jaw dropped — he'd never heard the other laugh before, not even once.
He thought it was probably one of his favorite sounds.
"It seems I've been caught. You surprise me, Nikolai Gogol. I didn't expect you to catch on quite so quickly," he murmured, traces of amusement still lingering in his voice.
"But of course. I must go above and beyond your expectations, always!"
"And that you did."
Nikolai smiled, all toothy and content, as he leaned forward and rubbed noses with his friend.
"Silly Dos-kun," he murmured back, "What is it that you were expecting from this mere clown?"
"Who knows?" Fyodor responded, inching ever closer. "Perhaps I wished to see more of your magic tricks."
Their lips connected not a second after.
—–
In the room beside theirs, a man trembled violently under his bedsheets. Sigma's eyes, which were covered by the pillow he pulled over his head, were just about ready to bulge out of his eye sockets. He had thought that being in a room without any of the other organization's members would make his stay easier, but unlucky for him, his room was the one right beside Fyodor and Nikolai. Even unluckier for him, the hotel's walls were paper-thin. As such, he could hear everything going on in the room beside him. Everything .
Whose god-awful idea was it to put Fyodor and Nikolai in the same room?!
He’d never look at either the same way again.
He should've bought the vodka he saw in that liquor store when in passing to the hotel, but noooo , he just had to have told himself that it would be better to stay sober in case something happened. Maybe if he had bought the alcohol, he'd have a chance of forgetting all that he heard the next morning if he drank enough.
He pulled the pillow tighter over his head, shutting his eyes and begging his brain to fall asleep.
Perhaps he'd take his chances with the racoons outside after all.