Work Text:
The smell of human blood was different.
He’d been to butchers before, to meat markets, to fish markets, to all those places that dripped with blood -- but animal blood was different, even when it was fresh. It didn’t smell the same. It didn’t feel the same between his fingers. Was there more iron in human blood? It smelled so much more metallic and surreal.
Aoyagi wiped his fingers on his painting smock. When the blood dried, it wouldn’t look too different from paint, and the smell of linseed and poppy seed oil easily overpowered the strange, unique smell of human blood. The color wouldn’t be discernible, really.
He held the kitchen knife against the arm and pressed down slowly, carefully, with both hands. Aoyagi was small, but he was strong, and the body gave a small, satisfying lurch as he pushed the blade through the bone, cutting through it cleanly. He put the piece into the bag with the rest, then moved onto the next section.
It took a long time to process the entire body, but it wasn’t hard work, at least. He lost track of the minutes as he often did when he was painting. When he finished, he was surprised at how little space the pieces took up. Pigs at the butcher’s were smaller, but they never looked that way.
Aoyagi placed the knife in a bowl of ammonia to soak, then tied up the trash bags. There were three altogether, each triple bagged and mixed with actual trash: the smell of rotting bananas and rancid meat, too, easily overpowered the smell of human blood.
Quietly, he hauled each bag out and put it into a different, but nearby, dumpster. The trash truck would arrive in an hour. On his last trip, he stepped on a pair of glasses. The lenses didn’t break, but the frame got bent out of shape. Nudging it aside gently, Aoyagi closed the door behind him, and disappeared down the hall.
***
Aoyagi jumped when the front door opened. He slid the sketchbook he had been drawing in under the the small stack of other books and loose sheets of paper on the drafting table and stood abruptly. His body relaxed immediately, though, when he saw that Teshima was looking down, fighting to get a stubborn shoe off his foot.
“Welcome home,” Aoyagi said softly. He smiled and padded over to the entryway, where Teshima won his fight with his shoe and lifted his head directly into a kiss.
“Thanks,” Teshima said, grinning. He stepped into his slippers, then flung his bag onto the couch.
“Sorry, I’m late! The trains were being dumb, and I really should’ve just taken my bike today, but whatever! We should really get going if we’re gonna make it to the party though, huh? It’s stupid they’re having it so far away from work, or I would’ve probably just gone straight there!” Teshima ran a hand through his wavy hair and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, just lemme change real quick and then we can go! Are you ready?”
Aoyagi nodded, then glanced briefly to his drafting table.
“You’ll have it cleaned up by the time I’m finished changing, and anyway, it’s not like anyone’s gonna see the mess before we get home!” Teshima laughed as he disappeared into the bedroom.
With his boyfriend out of sight, Aoyagi retrieved the sketchbook he’d been drawing in and buried it in the bookshelf alongside a dozen others that looked exactly same. He felt his heart lurch a little with the too-familiar guilty, unsettled feeling. The sketchbook was already half-filled with unpleasant fantasies, but Teshima would see through him sooner or later. He always did.
Teshima emerged from the bedroom with a fresh shirt, only partially buttoned, and a hair tie in his mouth as he gathered up his unruly black hair into a ponytail.
Aoyagi sighed and moved to finish buttoning the shirt, failing utterly in suppressing a small smile. Teshima grinned and kissed him on the nose when he’d finished. Aoyagi made a face, then pushed himself up on his toes to return the favour.
Teshima blushed a satisfying pink, then turned towards the door. “Okay, okay, let’s go!”
They put on their shoes, and Aoyagi took hold of Teshima’s hand as they left the apartment.
***
Aoyagi did not let go of the hand for most of the evening.
But even so, he had a hard time staying focused on the conversations. Many of the topics were dull, or at least, esoteric and related to the business -- they were numbers and statistics-heavy, and everything started to sound the same. Now and then, Teshima would squeeze his hand and offer a sideways glance and apologetic smile, but Aoyagi would only squeeze back and shake his head.
Teshima was having fun. Teshima was laughing and joking with his co-workers and getting into the discussions and playful banter. The words passed over Aoyagi, and instead, he focused on his partner’s smile, the edges of his lips, the small gap in his teeth, the motion of each curl of hair, and shine in his eyes and the happy tears every time someone told a particularly good joke.
Aoyagi had never been good at telling jokes.
A brunette woman with a wide smile and too-tall heels patted Teshima on the shoulder when she left the conversation to get another drink. Teshima waved after her, and Aoyagi focused all of his energy on not tightening his hold on Teshima’s arm. If there was the slightest change in pressure, he would notice.
Teshima turned to Aoyagi, and Aoyagi immediately averted his gaze, though he realised in the same heartbeat that that was probably even more suspicious.
“Are you okay?” Teshima asked him. His voice was gentle, concerned.
Aoyagi breathed out slowly and looked up. Teshima’s eyes were soft. Aoyagi wanted to murder his co-worker for touching him, but he smiled as naturally as he could and nodded.
Teshima looked apologetic. “Sorry,” he said. “I know you’re bored… Hopefully things will wrap up soon.”
Aoyagi shook his head. “It’s fine. This party’s important. It’s okay if I’m bored.”
Teshima squeezed his hand again and kissed him on the top of the head, only to be immediately interrupted by another co-worker and former schoolmate.
“Get a room,” Koga said, by way of greeting.
Teshima kissed Aoyagi again, insolently on the lips, then turned to Koga to grin and return the greeting with a “Don’t be jealous.”
Aoyagi wanted to think about how nice the kisses had been, but instead he fixated on the fact that Teshima had initiated the second one because of Koga, and the fact that they were laughing together a lot. Maybe the jokes were actually funny, but he couldn’t parse any of their words. He thought about stepping on glasses, again and again, and hurling three trash bags into separate dumpsters. Koga lived alone and far from them. It would be easy, probably.
The brunette from earlier would lose her balance easily on those high heels. If she fell down a flight of stairs, he wouldn’t even have to worry about the body. It’d just be an accident, that’s all. Teshima worked near the top of a twenty story building. The elevators could break down one day. It would be easy.
Teshima’s loud, smart-mouthed boss lived out in the country and commuted far every day. It would be easy.
Aoyagi didn’t want to think about it, but he could picture it so readily, the way the man would look as he suffocated, the different colors he would turn, the way his eyes would probably bug out a little just before he finally died. He could see the endless fields of rice and wheat. He could see the pigs, the crows, and the country dogs who wouldn’t care what meat they were fed; he could see the rivers that flowed too quickly for anyone to catch a bit of blood.
***
Aoyagi woke suddenly, just before dawn, and stumbled to the bathroom to retch into the toilet.
He hadn’t eaten much at the party, and no matter how hard he heaved, nothing came up except bile and spit and the lingering taste of expensive sake. His stomach churned and he wanted to cry. His chest was so tight. The guilt was so heavy.
“Hajime?”
He heard the lamp on the bedside table flick on and could imagine perfectly Teshima blinking blearily towards the bathroom. Aoyagi sat on the tile floor and stared into the empty toilet, envisioning swirls of blood. After another minute, Teshima rose from the bed and made his way to the bathroom.
“Hey…” Teshima sat down next to him and gathered him into his arms. “I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he said, hugging tightly. “We should’ve left earlier last night. I’m sorry I made us stay so long.”
Aoyagi shook his head, but he couldn’t find his voice.
“Do you think you can stand?”
When Aoyagi didn’t respond, Teshima didn’t press or ask again. He just sat and held him and stroked his hair -- and Aoyagi started to cry. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be taken care of like this.
“I really appreciated it, you know,” Teshima said softly into his shoulder. “It was an important party because lots of upper management was there and all that. I’m really glad you came because your just being there calmed me down a lot, you know? I know it was really boring for you though, so I’m sorry about that…
“Do you think it was something you ate? You didn’t even eat much though… I don’t think you drank that much either, but maybe you shouldn’t have drank at all without eating more? I’m really sorry…Honestly, I don’t even think I made much of an impression on the higher-ups.” Teshima laughed quietly. “S’not worth you getting sick anyway.”
Aoyagi shook his head again and found Teshima’s hand to squeeze it.
“Come on,” Teshima said, wiping away some of Aoyagi’s tears. He stood slowly, carefully pulling Aoyagi to his feet and steadying the smaller man against him. “Get back to bed. I’ll make your favourite soup.”
***
There was something Aoyagi wasn’t telling him.
But for once, Teshima didn’t have the slightest idea what it could be. He didn’t think Aoyagi was hiding anything, per se, but there was definitely something that the blond was avoiding.
Teshima worked more slowly than usual, slicing up the winter melon into extra-thin pieces so that after they were softened in the soup, Aoyagi would be able to swallow them without chewing.
Whatever the problem was, it probably hadn’t started with the party. Was it something he’d done? But Aoyagi was usually very forthright when it came to calling him out. If Teshima forgot to do the laundry when it was his turn or forgot to get the mail or milk or anything like that, Aoyagi would tell him. If Teshima snored or forgot to lock the door when he left in the morning or made too many bad puns, Aoyagi would tell him.
Aoyagi was usually happy to vent about his work too, about gallery managers and curators and magazine editors, about not being able to mix the same colour twice, about the lighting in the studio changing too quickly in the fall.
Teshima didn’t know where else to look for a problem, but he could see easily enough that guilt was eating away at Aoyagi. Guilt. What could Aoyagi possibly be feeling guilty about? Teshima wished there was anything he could do. He didn’t want to force Aoyagi into telling him anything he didn’t want to, but he wanted to make things better, somehow.
When he returned to the bedroom, Aoyagi was lying awake in bed, staring distantly at the ceiling.
“Hey.” Teshima said from the doorway. “What’re you thinking about?”
Aoyagi closed his eyes. Teshima set the bowl of warm soup on the bedside table, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
“You know I love you no matter what, right?”
Aoyagi inhaled sharply, but Teshima didn’t expect him to say anything, and he didn’t.
“Here,” Teshima said, taking the bowl into his hands again. “You should have your soup.” He grinned. “Do you need me to feed you?”
Aoyagi sat up slowly and shook his head, though he avoided meeting Teshima’s gaze. “I can do it,” he muttered.
Teshima handed him the bowl.
“We’re out of garlic,” he said. “So I might pop out and grab some from the store. Is there anything you want? Or do you want me to hang out here with you? I already called work, but I’ve got plenty of chores I could do too if you just wanted to sleep. I do think you should sleep. Does your head hurt?”
Aoyagi swallowed a mouthful of soup and shrugged. “I’m just tired,” he mumbled. “I’ll sleep. Don’t worry about me.”
The blond lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped the rest of it hungrily. Teshima smiled fondly and wiped the corner of Aoyagi’s mouth with a napkin after he set the bowl back down. Aoyagi made a face, and Teshima took the empty bowl from him.
“Thanks, Junta...” Aoyagi laid back down and looked again at the ceiling. “Sorry.”
Teshima leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Get some rest.”
***
Aoyagi recovered quickly, physically, as he always did, but Teshima began to notice small signs of his partner’s anxiety everywhere.
Aoyagi flinched at sudden noises. His eyes darted in a dozen directions every time anyone approached them at the store or at the bike shop. He frowned into his food when Teshima talked about certain co-workers. He closed his sketchbook suddenly anytime Teshima entered the room. He seemed afraid to look Teshima in the eye.
Teshima didn’t want to push or pry. He didn’t snoop in Aoyagi’s sketchbooks when he had the chance. He didn’t ask Tadokoro if he knew anything. He believed in Aoyagi, but he really, really wanted to find a way to make things better, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t know what was wrong.
On Saturday, a week and a half after the work party, Teshima went to the market at dawn to gather all the freshest vegetables and meats, then hunkered down in the kitchen for the rest of the day to cook.
Aoyagi sat at the kitchen table and watched him. Occasionally, he pulled out a sketchbook and doodled, and Teshima caught glimpses of sketches that looked like him in the pages, but mostly Aoyagi just watched him quietly, ate the small dishes Teshima put in front of him, and tasted whatever Teshima asked him to taste, all while wordlessly asking what he was doing.
Dinner was too many plates to fit on the table and dishes covered the countertops, an extravagant buffet for two.
“I hope you can finish all this,” Teshima laughed, sitting down for the first time in several hours. “I mean, I guess it’ll be great if we have leftovers for a week, but everything tastes better when it’s fresh, right?”
“Junta.” Aoyagi sounded anxious and uncertain. “What’s all this for?” he finally asked.
“Ahh...well.” Teshima glanced at his boyfriend, then out the window, then down at his hands. He had never been good at hiding things from Aoyagi. He had always loved that he didn’t need to. “I’m really worried about you? I know something’s wrong, but I can’t figure it out… I didn’t want to pry because maybe it’s not my business at all, but I really want to help, if I can… and I mean, even if I can’t do anything, you know you can always talk to me, right?”
Teshima looked up. Aoyagi was staring at him, but he couldn’t read his expression.
“I love you,” Teshima said. “I love you, and I always will. You can tell me anything, and that won’t change, okay? Or you can just have dinner. I’ll still love you. I just want you to know you’re not alone, okay?”
Aoyagi inhaled slowly, then looked away.
“I keep thinking about killing your co-workers,” he said, exhaling, barely audible. “I hate it when they smile at you, when they touch you. I know you don’t notice, but some of them like you. They flirt with you. I hate it. I want them to die.”
“Hajime…”
“I have a sketchbook full of your murdered co-workers,” Aoyagi continued in a low, dead sort of voice. “I keep thinking about how I’d kill them. How I’d get rid of the bodies. Hide the evidence… I’ve dreamt about it. It scares me. What if I actually do it? Junta… What if I actually do it?”
Teshima rose from his seat and sat down next to Aoyagi, wrapping an arm firmly around him and pulling him close.
“If you actually do it, I’ll help you get rid of the body,” he said quietly.
Aoyagi looked at him, eyes wide. Teshima squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “You really don’t like Kimitaka, huh?”
Aoyagi stiffened but said nothing. Teshima laughed softly. “It’s okay, Hajime… thoughts are just thoughts. I think if you don’t obsess over how ‘bad’ they are, they’ll go away more easily. Thinking about that stuff doesn’t make you a bad person though. I don’t think you’ll kill anyone.”
Teshima kissed the side of his head. “But if you do, I’m still on your side, okay?”
“Junta…”
“Come on. The food’s getting cold.”
***
“Do you feel better?”
Aoyagi nodded sheepishly and leaned back in his chair.
The table was covered in finished and half-finished dishes. Teshima’s own plate was still mostly full, but he continued to pick at it.
“How were you going to kill him, by the way, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Aoyagi blinked at him, then sighed. “Sneak into his apartment. Slit his throat. Chop up the body into little pieces. Dump them in his own dumpsters.”
“Not bad, not bad,” Teshima said, chewing thoughtfully. “Sneaking into apartments is harder than it sounds though… Koga’s building’s pretty old, but that also means you can’t just swipe a key card or whatever. I guess it’d be easy enough to sneak in after some other tenant goes in or out, but what about his actual unit?”
“....Junta.”
“What? It’s just for fun, right?” Teshima grinned. “Anyway, maybe if we talk about how hard this would actually be, it might help you to not think about it as much anymore? Though actually, I think you’re probably strong enough to force open a door, if you really wanted. Koga would hear that though...”
Teshima played with his chopsticks. “Maybe you could overpower Koga, especially since he’d be caught off guard. He’s taller and heavier than you, but it’d be easy enough to beat him over the head with something? Oh, but that could leave prints… It could all be over really fast after you get him knocked out though, and you’d probably have time to wipe everything.
“After he’s dead, you cut him up, right? That’d take forever, but I guess if you didn’t make a ton of noise, you’d have time. Most neighbours would probably just be glad the noise stopped, anyway. Hmmm.”
Aoyagi made a face at him. “You’re having too much fun with this.”
“Well, it’s like a puzzle!” Teshima laughed. “Puzzles are fun!”
“Your puzzle is murder.”
“Details!”
Aoyagi rolled his eyes and rested his head on one hand, elbow propped up on the table. He couldn’t hide his smile though. “I can’t believe I was worried about this.”
“Well, I hope you aren’t worried about it anymore!” Teshima said brightly, and Aoyagi nodded fondly. “Anyway, you said you were gonna cut up the pieces and just dump them, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not bad, I suppose, but they’d probably find the pieces fairly soon. Trash gets processed pretty quickly, so maybe within the day, even? It’d be best if the pieces weren’t found for a while, or if they weren’t found at all? If someone just disappeared, they wouldn’t immediately assume it was murder, right?”
Aoyagi nodded again, but Teshima could tell he was already losing interest in the details.
“Oh!” Teshima accidentally knocked a chopstick off the table in excitement. “If we ate him, there’d be no evidence!”
Aoyagi stared at him, and Teshima grinned devilishly. “If we’re careful with the butchering and packaging, we could conceivably bring the pieces to market to sell, if we don’t just cook him ourselves. Then there’s no way they’d ever find anything!”
“That’s really gross,” Aoyagi said, though he was shaking his head and laughing soundlessly. “I bet he’d taste gross.”
“Well, maybe, maybe not. A lot of meats taste really similar though, and with enough seasoning and spice, who could tell?” Teshima winked cheekily.
“You’re ridiculous,” Aoyagi said, standing. “You should finish your food. I’m going to start cleaning up.”
“Okay, okay,” Teshima picked up his chopstick from the floor. “But I’m about done anyway. I’ll just start packing bentos? I can’t believe you ate most of that though. I really was expecting to have leftovers for a while…”
Aoyagi moved the empty dishes from the counters to the sink, then slipped his arms around Teshima from the back. “Thanks, Junta,” he mumbled into the back of his neck.
“I love you,” Teshima said, taking his hands in his own. And he could feel Aoyagi’s lips move against his skin, echoing the same.
***
There was still light in the sky when they left the apartment, hand in hand, for an evening walk.
Teshima was relieved and grateful for the lack of tension in Aoyagi’s fingers, for the shy, slight smile half-hidden behind his hair. The air was crisp, and the grey city streets looked beautiful in their own way.
“Oi, Junta!”
Teshima turned. He felt Aoyagi’s hand tighten around his, and from the corner of his eye, saw his boyfriend’s smile fade to neutral, and then into the slightest of frowns. Koga was coming up behind them, arms laden with packages.
“Forgot you lived around here,” Koga said, stopping in front of them. He nodded towards Aoyagi. “Good to see you again, Hajime.”
“What brings you here, Kimitaka?” Teshima asked, grinning broadly.
“My aunt lives in the area and wanted me to pick up a bunch of things that my dad left here when he crashed with her years and years ago? She just wanted it out of her apartment, so I guess I’m shipping them back home at some point. What a pain in the ass, right?”
Teshima scoffed. “What, she couldn’t mail them herself?”
“Like she’d go through the effort! She wanted my dad to come get them himself and threatened to just toss them out, but I’m conveniently here, so here we are.”
“Well, at least it isn’t more boxes than that,” Teshima said.
“If it were, I’d say throw them out too,” Koga said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I guess I’ll leave you sappy love birds be, eh?”
“Well, hey,” Teshima said, as Koga started to walk past them. “Gimme a shout next time you’re in the area. Hajime and I would love to have you for dinner.” He grinned, wide and toothy.
“Sure? I guess your cooking is at least edible.”
“You know you like it,” Teshima said. “But good. Don’t be a stranger!”
Koga nodded and waved.
Aoyagi smiled.
