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"Tsujita?"
The rain hammered down in sheets just outside the alley, but it wasn't enough to prevent Kantarou's characteristically booming voice from reaching Nagiri's sensitive ears.
"TSUJITA?!"
Lately, Kantarou’s use of that name was provoking conflicting emotions in him; emotions very much at odds with the precariousness of his current situation.
Dumbass. I don’t want to see you.
Nagiri jumped swiftly into the deep shadow created by a building awning, freezing in place as he watched the man's silhouette pause in the contrast of the street lamp. He didn’t think he’d been seen; but fuck , it was hard to stay still when he was so damned cold. His tattered brown cloak clung to his body, his black hair hung in damp clumps around his face– a steady stream of raindrops dripping lazily off the tip of his hood before his eyes.
Stupid fucking rain. He silently willed the man to give up, to go away and leave him to this familiar misery.
"TSUJITA!!"
Kantarou’s sudden change in volume and tone indicated to Nagiri that quite the opposite had occurred– he’d been spotted.
Fuck.
Had he learned nothing from all these months skulking around, hiding from predators? Sure, he had lost the greater part of his vampiric ability, but he had thought if there was one thing on which he could still rely, it was his powers of evasion. After all, what the hell was a vampire without the ability to sink seamlessly into shadow?
Pathetic , that's what.
"TSUJITAAAA!"
Ah– but maybe it could be blamed less on his own ineptitude, and more on Kantarou’s single-minded insistence on ensuring he never experienced a moment’s peace. Nagiri wasn’t sure which was worse.
“TSUJITA!! I found you!!”
No shit. But did the man always have to be so damned loud ? He sighed, grimacing as he stopped to listen to the sound of heavy boot steps approaching; refusing to turn before he composed himself against the barrage of the man's enthusiasm.
As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Nagiri could picture him approaching. Excited grin plastered across his scarred face, wide eyes sparkling as he shakes raindrops off a VCD-issue umbrella with one arm, extending the other to–
Nagiri flinched as a large hand was placed on his shoulder. Though he had been expecting it, he was still unaccustomed to being touched so casually.
"Tsujita…” The name spoken much more softly this time.
“Why are you running from me?!” Louder, but at least the man was considerate enough to not yell it in his ear.
“Why do you th–” Nagiri began, but the words died in his throat as he whirled around to meet the officer’s gaze.
Ah, he was just as Nagiri had pictured him. But along with the characteristic goofy grin, there was something more. Was it… concern that furrowed his brow like that? Admittedly, Nagiri still found it difficult to read and interpret human emotion…but somehow this was unmistakable.
Concern. …for me?
Wait, what had he been saying? Oh, right. He was going to call Kantarou an idiot and say: The same reason as always. Because you're stupid and annoying and every time I'm near you I have some fresh new disaster inflicted upon me.
And of course it was true. But it wasn’t the entirety of it. He tried again, adding a little more vehemence this time. “Why do you think—-”
Ah, he was sounding like an idiot!
“Nevermind!” He huffed, turning on his heel. He hustled away toward the beacon of the streetlamp at the far end of the alley, cringing at the sensation of the hem of his cloak clinging to his legs.
But Kantarou, unperturbed at this apparent dismissal, hastily caught up to him. “TSUJITA!! You’re soaking wet!!” He exclaimed. Against the harsh glare of the streetlamp, it was impossible to not notice Nagiri’s apparent misery. Hurriedly undoing the buttons of his overcoat, Kantarou shrugged it off and extended it toward the man’s turned back.
Nagiri sighed reluctantly before turning. He glanced down at the garment in disdain, making no motion to accept it. Maybe he should take it; maybe that would be enough to placate this hurricane of a man. But no, he couldn’t ! The fearsome Tsujigi Nagiri– reduced to wearing a pristine white VCD coat? Surely just the thought of it was undignifying.
But Kantarou was still gazing at him imploringly. "PLEASE?! I know you're cold. I can see you shivering!"
Of course he wasn't wrong. Fuck, why was this form so weak? Nagiri focused, making a concentrated effort to stop the involuntary movement of his body, but quickly stopped when he found it futile. The attempt must have resulted in him making a ridiculous face, because Kantarou chuckled softly, taking advantage of Nagiri's momentary distraction to cross the distance between them and throw the coat over his shoulders.
“HA! There!”
This time, Nagiri hadn’t resisted. After all, was there ever any point in doing so when Kantarou was involved? He couldn’t help but let out a sigh as the heavy garment was draped around him; he sincerely hoped it sounded more "exasperated" than "comforted", though he had his doubts. While he had steeled himself for a feeling of indignation, he had instead been taken aback by the sensation of warmth; and not just warmth, but something else like it.
In truth, he had thought about this coat a lot, in moments of weakness. But in his imaginings, Kantaro was still wearing it– enveloping in his arms, where he felt warm, safe, shielded from–
Stop.
He could never let on that he was starving– not just for blood, but sometimes, just for such small comforts such as those. “Now you’re going to be cold, stupid!”
"I'm fine ," Kantarou laughed in response, then paused, suddenly remembering. "OH RIGHT! I brought you something!” He bent and picked up a colorful bag he must have placed on the ground when he had taken off his coat.
As he extended the parcel, Nagiri could see the contents were colorful as well.
“Chocolate!” Kantarou exclaimed triumphantly.
"...what's the occasion?"
"A guy isn't allowed to show appreciation for his partner?"
Partner? It wasn’t the first time Kantarou had referred to him as such, but it was surprising nonetheless– Nagiri hadn't done shit to help Kantarou recently, and had, in fact, been actively avoiding him (to an even greater extent than usual).
Nagiri raised a non-existent eyebrow, as if to say you came all the way to this derelict part of Shin-Yoko for that ? He half expected to be dragged off by Kantarou in pursuit of his quarry any minute now.
Of course, Kantarou, eternally incapable of staying quiet, immediately caved under the scrutiny. "OH! Ah…" He began, scratching the back of his head in what Nagiri could only assume was…uncertainty? Embarrassment?
"I–it's White Day and they were selling all these fancy sweets, and I just thought–"
But Nagiri didn't get to find out what Kantarou had thought , because the man actually had the presence of mind to stop babbling for once. He couldn’t help but wonder at the rare display of self-awareness.
What the fuck is White Day? It had been an age since he had such connections to human culture– long prior to his time spent as the vampiric serial killer Tsujigiri Nagiri– and of course, these days had only a vague idea of what season it was, nevertheless the calendar date.
But Kantarou seemed to be looking at him expectantly, eager brown eyes gleaming.
"Ah," Nagiri replied awkwardly; at this point, too embarrassed to ask. But Kantarou seemed nonplussed at this response, shaking the bag enthusiastically at him as if coaxing a stubborn cat with treats.
Admittedly, it was getting harder and harder for Nagiri to say no to these offerings. After all, it had been so long since his blades had tasted the sharp metallic tang of blood... He was always longing, he was always hungry , but somehow, these increasingly frequent treats were helping to ease the ache.
In a matter of seconds, he had snatched the bag out of the officer’s grasp, dropping to his haunches to make quick work of the contents’ decorative packaging with a single razor-sharp nail. The pristine hem of Kantarou’s coat pooled on the dirty brick, but he didn’t have the presence of mind to care.
He remembered to mutter a hasty “thanks”, but only as the first chocolate hit his tongue. It was cherry-filled, it was delicious, the consistency was—
“OF COURSE, TSUJITA!!” Kantarou exclaimed affectionately– overcome with emotion at Nagiri’s enthusiasm– as he joined the vampire on the ground across from him, apparently uncaring that the rest of his clothing was being dirtied as well.
Nagiri stopped stuffing his face just long enough to glare at the officer as though he had grown a second head. Kantarou, oblivious, stared back; the passionate– adoring?! -- expression on his face quickly becoming of great concern to Nagiri.
But Nagiri couldn’t be bothered right now, intent as he was on digging in the ornate box for his next sweet victim .
Fortunately, Kantarou likewise busied himself with fishing around in the discarded gift bag, from which he promptly retrieved two bottled drinks. …Tea , which Nagiri hadn’t even noticed in his haste.
Hunger sated for the time being, Nagiri felt somewhat more agreeable. He accepted the bottle offered to him. “So…” He began, twisting off the lid and taking a drink as he stalled for time. He struggled with “small talk”, just as much as he struggled with lying, but would do anything to fill the silence, do anything to stop Kantarou from looking at him like that again.
“White Day…don’t you have somewhere better to be on such an occasion?” A shot in the dark, but it was something.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!!" Kantarou replied, a little too fervently as he leaned in close to Tsujita. Then, collecting himself, "I mean, no. Oh– I was at the department earlier– can you believe how much candy Hinaichi got?! It was stacked a mile high on her desk!! You wouldn't think someone like her would be so popular with guys." This was followed by a jovial laugh.
Agreed , Nagiri thought. He shuddered at the recollection of his brief run-in with the VCD vice-captain. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to give her—
Wait. “Candy”? “Guys”?
WHITE DAY??
The puzzle pieces swiftly came together in his mind, leaving him with only one apparent conclusion. He ran through the night's events, this time viewed through this new lens.
Oh surely not.
But before he could act on this information, Kantarou interjected.
"Ah, this weather!” The man gazed in dismay toward the alley’s opening, where rain still fell in sheets. “I'm sorry I couldn't bring hot tea."
"Tsk. It's fine, I have a cat's tongue." Nagiri muttered absentmindedly, busy as he was planning his emergency escape route.
Kantarou glanced at him in surprise at this. "But how do you drin–"
"Wh–?" Oh . Nagiri berated himself for this misstep. Blood, you idiot . Of course, a normal vampire– as Kantarou presumed him to be– would typically partake of such orally , and not through meter-long blood blades. He couldn’t remember the last time he had tasted blood in the "normal" way; to him, this carried a suggestion of intimacy that he was disinclined to share with….victims.
"Oh, uh…that's different. I meant…human food." He spoke hastily. He was terrible at lying; and somehow it never seemed to get any easier.
But as always, Kantarou accepted this explanation without question. "I'll remember that!" He replied, as enthusiastic as ever, chasing the words with a drink of tea.
Nagiri, watching him, froze. "...that was mine."
"Huh?" Kantarou said, then quickly realized what he was referring to. "Oh. O–oh!" He set the drink down hurriedly, chiseled face reddening a bit. “SORRY!” He paused; considering, as the color in his cheeks deepened. "TSUJITA!! This is like…like…" He drew in a breath in preparation.
“AN INDIRECT KISS!”
Nagiri cringed so hard he could feel a tiny fraction of his remaining power leave his body.
But regardless of how it was delivered, it was the confirmation he hadn’t even known he had been seeking.
"Kantarou." He spoke evenly.
The officer's blush deepened at the sudden unexpected eye contact– and at Nagiri’s near unprecedented use of his name. "W–what, Tsujita?"
"You are a fucking idiot."
"Wh– ? I just MEANT— I– O-of COURSE I didn’t meant to PRESUME or anything lik–"
It’s fine…shut up . He wants to say. After all, some things were better said under the guise of a joke. Would Nagiri have allowed himself to accept a confession delivered in any other way?
But Nagiri can think of a better way to make the fool shut up, but it's a terrible idea. It's a wonderful idea. It's–
What he wants . And while he’s less certain about Tsujita – Tsujigiri Nagiri always gets what he wants.
“WH–?” Kantarou exhales one more startled exclamation, just as Nagiri’s lips crash against his own.
It’s so awkward– he’s leaned across Kantarou’s lap haphazardly, tea bottles sent flying in his haste to take action before he changed his mind– but it doesn’t matter, because it’s done .
Nagiri opens his eyes for a moment, pulling away momentarily to observe the kaleidoscope of emotion that washes over the man’s face…confusion, surprise… joy . All because of him?
Kantaro– for once– is speechless, but Nagiri needs no more affirmation. He closes his eyes, once again relishing what is his, if only for this moment.
Kantarou draws a hand up to touch his nape, fingers lacing in his hair as they come to rest at the back of his head, gently deepening the kiss.
All of a sudden, it’s almost too much . Nagiri finds he’s shivering again, but not from the cold. He hasn’t been touched this way, didn’t even know he wanted to be touched this way.
He feels like he should pull away, but he doesn’t think he can.
Maybe he doesn’t deserve this, but maybe it doesn't matter. Tsujigiri Nagiri is greedy in a way Tsujita is not. From here on, things would undoubtedly be messy. But what was Tsujigiri Nagiri if not messy ? For once, for ONCE in this new life, consequences be damned– he would deal with those later.
Right now, he can’t think– he’s too overwhelmed with sensation– with warmth, with sound . He can hear Kantaro’s heartbeat– the blood pulsing at his neck, at the wrist of the hand he has grabbed in an effort to steady himself.
Just being in proximity to this heat, he feels alive in a way he hasn’t since a time he can’t recall.
It’s delicious ; he’s certain he could make an exception…just this once.