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“He’s over there!”
Majima ignored the shout, as he weaved through the alleys of the city, his body working into exertion. He sprinted on sore legs and heaving breaths as he jumped over sprawled crates, toppled fences, and a man too drunk to notice. He looks behind him and manages to make a gleeful smile despite his exhaustion, the apple of his eye: Kiryu Kazuma. He was chasing after him too, gun drawn with a look of determination. He raises the gun and shoots at Majima’s legs, but he turns just in the nick of time to hear the bullets chip at the building’s corner.
This wasn’t part of Majima’s original plan. He only had intentions to scope out his target. Wanted to see the type of man he was, the business partners he was meeting with, and maybe finally get a taste of the high life. He sat tucked in a corner of the restaurant, watching over the man carefully as he ate his fancy roasted boar meat with whatever herbs the server informed him about. He couldn’t stop his mouth from gaping in surprise as he saw the man’s food brought to him with a silver cloche over it, revealing a golden plate. A gold plate! Majima only saw those antiques in the most high end imported stores, enclosed in glass with a price tag that had too many zeroes Majima couldn’t bother dreaming about having. And he was eating off it!
It grinded his gears to see him treat the servers like shit, but it pissed him off knowing that most of the money he gained was from cutting payments off the top from the already bending backwards miners and farmers working for him. And he was wasting it on gaudy bullshit like this.
All Majima wanted was to take a bit from the smug ass guy that had more money than he knew what he could do with it. He wouldn’t even miss it.
Oh yeah, and that lady’s deed. Majima recalls the memory of finding a desperate widowed woman, weeping about how in a desperate attempt to pay off her husband’s debt, she sold the land for a meager couple of coins. It wasn’t until after the deal had been made before she discovered that she sold it for way less than it was worth, leaving her nothing but the clothing on her back and the portrait of her husband in her hand. He could already picture the pot bellied man guffawing about scamming from someone so helpless. Majima usually wasn’t the type to lend a helping hand, but it was hard to say no to someone who already lost everything.
After he watched the guy snarl at the young server who was practically sweating buckets, threatening him to get him fired, Majima made up his mind. He quickly finished eating his food on his regular plate, like a normal person, put up his bandana and started barking orders.
“Alrighty everyone, this is a robbery! Put yer hands where I can see him!” he shouted, shooting twice into the roof of the fancy restaurant, the chandelier swinging and the glass sparkling as it rained around him. Not his scene anyway.
Frightened yelps and screams echo through the room, everyone, slowly but surely, raising their hands upwards. Majima had to make it quick, his one eye could only see so much and it wouldn't take long for someone to try to sneak a shot at him.
He stomped up to the quivering man, his hands dropping the utensils, and pointed the gun to his forehead.
“Get up, now.” he said in a deepened voice, his eye boring into the man’s glassy ones. He nods shakily and Majima grabs him by the neck and drives him through the back door, their footsteps padding on the red wine carpet.
They burst through the back door with a thud and Majima tosses him to the ground. He falls with a scared whimper.
“H-Hold on, I’ll give you anything you want! Just don’t hurt me!” the man blubbers, as he tries to scamper away, hitting the fence with his back. He put his arms up in a feeble attempt to protect himself.
“Yeah?” Majima drawls as he squats down, keeping his gun trained on his target. “Then empty yer pockets, I want all yer valuables in my hand. And that missus’s deed, the one you took for some measly coins.”
“B-But - ”
“Oh, I’m sorry, are we negotiating?”
Majima takes a step forward, his left boot rising to harshly pin the guy’s shoulder to the fence, his gun still aimed at his head. The man groaned in pain.
“Now then, you save me the trouble and tell me where it is,” his voice suddenly lowered, he leaned closer right next to the man’s face, being able to smell cigars and horse shit, “or I blow your brains out.”
He nods and sniffs, “O-Okay…fine. Just don’t hurt me.” The man scrambles to search his pockets. He drops his thick wallet to the floor, takes off the many accessories adorning his wrists and fingers, and even manages to snag off his golden belt buckle. He drops it in front of Majima in a haste, the items clacking to the ground. He puts his arms back up. “The - The deed is back at my old base. Near the mountains, a big house, you can’t miss it! That’s all to it, I swear!”
Majima smiles, making sure his grin is wide enough to make it look like he’s about to devour him whole. The guy looks like he’s gonna piss his pants. Or maybe he already did.
“Wonderful.”
He hears clamoring inside the restaurant, frantic voices and hurrying footsteps. Guess that was his cue. Just as he was going to run for it, he heard a familiar deep voice among the chatter, and he held his breath. The door swung open, and Majima’s heart leaps with joy.
Deputy Kiryu Kazuma. The Dragon of the West.
Majima’s latest obsession.
Quickly, he lunges for the man and holds him under a tight necklock, gun pointed to the side of his head. He felt him stiffen in fear and thankfully Majima didn’t feel any wet spots. Kiryu and Majima locked eyes with each other and Kiryu’s frown deepened, his hand to his side, ready to draw.
“Yo Kiryu-chan! It’s been a while, huh?” Majima asks, as if he’s catching up with an old friend he ran into at a saloon.
“Majima,” he said slowly, “Let him go.”
“Sorry sugar, can’t afford to do that.” he said, jostling his captive around, the man stumbling over on shaky legs. “I got unfinished business to take care of, so I can’t let ya take me in. Damn shame.” he said with an exaggerated sigh.
“Just let him go, Majima. You don’t have to do this.” Kiryu spoke calmly, his voice deep and rich.
Majima looks at him. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown but the sun gave his eyes an extra sparkle that nearly had Majima mesmerized. After a moment, he shrugs and nods slowly, easing on his hold and begins to lower his gun, watching Kiryu’s eyes soften, yet still trained on him.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Majima already shoves the guy towards Kiryu, who nearly tripped over himself with a yelp. Kiryu caught him and when he looked up, Majima was already running out of the restaurant's alley.
And here he was. Really, to have Kiryu chase him down again let up a certain thrill in him that made him grateful he started that havoc. It wasn’t intentional, but it was fully welcomed.
He ducked and ran, hearing the whistles of bullets firing near him, changed routes and ran into a busy street, filled with incoming riders on tall horses, heavy wagons being pulled, and people walking around enjoying their hot Saturday afternoon.
Majima, with a knack of ruining peaceful areas with just his mere presence, bolted in front of an oncoming coach, its horses shaking their heads and shrieking in surprise. Majima narrowly missed getting run over as the coachman yelped and spit curses in surprise, but Majima barely registered it. He turns on his heel and makes a dash uptown, not minding the looks and stares of the townsfolk. He runs towards a large crowd at the end of the block, gathering to watch a traveling circus perform on stage.
He slipped and nudged his way through, before making it to the other side and darting into another alley. Majima made several twists and turns, almost certain that Kiryu lost his trail, and ended up in a dead end. He heaved, his hands bracing on his knees as he tried to catch his breath and remember what street he turned into. Just as he gathered his bearings, he looked up to hear an echo of rapid footsteps that stopped a couple meters in front of him.
Good.
“Damn, Kiryu-chan! Really have me running for my money.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a wheeze, almost like a train whistle, “Ha! In more ways than one!”
Kiryu had an unamused look, his maroon vested chest heaving and sweat trickling down the side of his face. His gun was still drawn in his hand. His brown hat casted a small shade over his face, matching his boots caked in dirt, grazing his worn out blue jeans. His deputy’s badge glistened in the sun, still clean and held proudly on his suit. From where Majima stood, he looked like a real lawman.
“Ah well, I was kinda hoping you could keep up.” Majima said, putting his hand against his hip and letting his head hang to the side, feigning for a casual look while trying to tamper down his much needed gasps of air. “‘Cause it ain’t much of a crime if I don’t have some fun out of it!”
He drew out his knife from its sheath. It had a fancy looking engraving on it, covering the wooden handle in snakes and petals. Its sharp silver blade gleamed in the sun. It almost looked like an antique, if not for Majima’s regular use of it. He took the holster that held his gun, outstretched his arm to the side and let it fall from his grasp, landing with a soft thump on the dirt below. He watched Kiryu do the same, his eyes never leaving Majima’s good one, as he slowly inserted his gun back into the holster and placed it on the ground in front of him. He stepped over it and raised his fists.
Ah, how he missed this. Upon first meeting him, fighting was something he never thought to exist in this world, not with guns and dynamite. No one wanted a good old fashioned tussle anymore. That was until he met Kiryu.
It was a drunken fight, both men not bothering to take their guns out as they exchanged blows in a world of blurry lines and a tilting axis. Majima didn’t remember much, didn’t even know why they started fighting, but he remembered feeling great, satisfied, as he lay sprawled on the floor with a pleasant weight on his legs, looking up at the warmest pair of eyes he’s ever seen. When Majima woke up the next day, with a massive hangover and a sour mood, he could only remember the pleasant feeling of his knuckles hitting muscle and fired up eyes.
Fast forward a week later, after getting nearly caught with robbing a mansion, he saw him again. Majima was running from an angry man caught with his pants down (quite literally, leaving an unpleasant sight), shooting his shotgun along with his screeching wife. As he ran past the front door, Majima saw him standing in the entryway. It suddenly felt like he was in slow motion, his eye momentarily meeting his, the look of surprise etched on his face. His eyes matched Majima’s faint memory of that night, but apparently he couldn’t recall his handsome face. And thus, with a face to match the mystery man’s strength, began Majima’s obsession of craving a fight from the rumored Dragon of the West.
There was a tense air between them, waiting for the other to snap. Majima felt like there could be a well timed tumbleweed to pass through. Kiryu lunged for him.
Majima held his knife loosely, dodging blow after blow aimed at his head, feeling the air whoosh in his ears. He adjusts his knife into a reverse grip and slashes at Kiryu’s wrist, who manages to scuff Majima across the chest. Kiryu hissed, drawing back his fist and opted for a kick square on Majima’s chest.
Majima lets out a surprised gasp, his back hitting the wall of the alley that expanded at its dead end, barely having enough time to dodge the next kick. Majima strikes back, his knife whistling through the air in wide slashes as Kiryu tries to guard himself, his sleeves getting slit open into thin stripes. Majima leers at the bit of blood that drips from the seams, not realizing the smile on his lips growing wider to the point it aches. He adjusts the knife again, the tip pointing forward, and dives for his chest. Kiryu grabs his wrist just as it nicks his vest, grips it outward, and a large fist strikes at Majima’s stomach. Majima wheezes and elbows Kiryu’s nose, who lets out a pained groan and loosens his hold. Swiftly, Majima places his foot right behind Kiryu and shoves him. He stumbles backwards, but not without grabbing Majima’s jacket and pulling him down with him.
As Majima struggles to get back on his feet, Kiryu grips his leg and pulls it out from under him, raising his fist for the final blow. With his other leg, Majima manages to kick at Kiryu’s chest with enough force to send him falling backwards into a pile of discarded crates. Majima, ignoring the throbbing in his chest, gets on his feet, his knife ready in his hand.
“Whatsa’ matter, cowboy?” He jeers, “Slacking on the job?”
Kiryu slowly gets up, wiping at the blood that drips from his nose, and readies his fists again, eyes burning bright with resolve and strength. He brushes off the splinters and broken wood, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose sniffing away the blood. Kiryu launches himself at him, and just as Majima swipes at his face, Kiryu suddenly ducks and is wrapping his arms around his torso, the tackle sending them both down. Using his weight to hold him down, he sits on top and raises his fist, delivering blow after blow, before Majima goes limp on the fourth strike.
Desperate gasps and breaths were taken, the alley finally becoming quiet again. Majima pats his arm around, trying to find his knife, and slightly lifting his head to see it far from his reach. Ah well, it was a good run.
He lays his head back down, the shadow of Kiryu’s large figure covering him from the sunlight. Black spots decorate his vision, barely able to see Kiryu’s shadowed face looking down on him, his hat long gone, the loose strands of hair falling into his face. Majima immediately remembers their first meeting, the similar feeling of being high on adrenaline with a handsome man resting on top of his lap. Despite the pain in his face, the new bruises definitely blooming across his skin, and the trickle of blood that dripped from a split lip, Majima grins up at him as Kiryu pants, feeling the hot breaths on his face.
“You’re… gettin’ stronger.”
Kiryu didn’t say anything, his face still determined and focused. He grips onto Majima and turns him over roughly onto his stomach, sitting on his thighs. Majima turned his head to watch him take out his rope and began tying his hands together.
“Easy there, big guy. I play rough but it don’t mean ya gotta tie me up.” he teases, half heartedly squirming underneath him. He felt Kiryu’s thighs encase his legs tighter, the weight on him getting heavier. Majima could practically feel the muscles through the jeans. Not bad.
“I’m not taking any chances, especially from you.” Kiryu grunted, tightening Majima’s wrists with finality. He turns, still sitting on Majima, and grabs for his legs while he playful kicks Kiryu’s hands away.
“C’mon Kiryu-chan, I’m sure ya can find it in yer heart to go easy on me! We had fun last time, remember?”
Kiryu finally grabbed both his legs, securing them with his rope and got off. He crouched down, put his arms around Majima’s waist and lifted him onto his shoulder with a huff.
“My, my! Ya really know how to sweep a guy off his feet! Ya sure ya want to take me back to that ol’ jailhouse? Maybe I can make it worth yer while…” Majima croons, trying to wiggle his ass. After getting no reaction, he sighs and hangs his head. Guess he didn’t have a choice.
He hears Kiryu let out a small whistle, and the faint neigh of his horse. Hooves pounding against the stone-tiled street towards them, turning into a faint trott as it neared. Kiryu grabbed his reins and whispered small praises, before heaving Majima onto his horse, securing his binds to the saddle. Satisfied, he walks back into the alley and picks up their discarded guns and Majima’s knife, then grabs for his hat. Kiryu dusts the dirt off and puts it back on his head, the small shadow casting across his face once more. He mounts his horse, takes up the reins and with a quick command, the horse trots forward.
“Oi, ya wanna know somethin’?” Majima rasps, still trying to recover from the fight. No response. He continues anyway, “that guy… I held up, back at the restaurant? Well, he was another piece of shit that don’t deserve much of what he got. Hell, I saw him eat off a gold plate! A gold fucking plate, the only shit ya see in those fancy-ass antique stores! Like, I do crazy shit time to time, but I also have standards, ya know?” He chatters, taking in the great scenery of people curiously watching an eye-patched man stuck on the backside of a horse like a sack of potatoes and the horse’s ass moving with rhythm, the tail flickering once in a while.
“So, yeah, maybe I did put up a gun to his head, but ain’t that expected in this life? I’m sure with his shitty attitude it happens more often than ya think! I mean, the guy’s still breathing ain’t he? Am I really the bad guy here?” Majima turns his head from where it hung, trying to avoid the incoming headache from the blood rushing to his head. Kiryu still isn’t paying attention, his back ramrod straight, his head looking forward. Majima sees him give small nods in greeting to some of the likewise riders passing his way. Majima smooshes his cheek against the horse, taking in the back of Kiryu’s suit’s intricate patterns and linings to the swell of his ass perched on the saddle. Shit, now that’s a sight.
The sun was beating down on his neck and head, his hat long gone, probably fell off during the fight. Other than the cool fur of the horse, his whole body ran hot. Majima took the time to calm his still racing heart, taking in deep breaths and thinking of ideas on how to slip through Kiryu’s fingers again.
After their first meeting (the other first meeting, not the one where he drank ‘til he was shit faced), Majima searched through the nearest towns to find anything on Mr. Handsome. He learned that Kiryu was a deputy in a nearby, sizable town, and is often known for bounty hunting and being “just the sweetest man around” as an old lady put it. Majima, determined to meet him again, plotted nearby robberies and hold ups to get his attention and sure enough, Kiryu came to the rescue.
After reliving another exhilarating fight (on the insistence of ‘using no guns or shit’ as Majima eloquently put it), Majima knew there was no going back.
The rest was history. Majima would rob some rich fucker who could spare some of his wealth, have someone report him, and await Kiryu's arrival. Majima would give him a taunt or two, they would have a good fight and Majima would be skipping away into the night as soon as he was satisfied. Majima wasn’t sure why he was doing this, he had never been this determined to get the attention of one man, considering the life he led was more of a solo ride, but it was practically addicting.
Sometimes he’d let Kiryu take a few wins, have him tie him down and haul his ass to the jailhouse, let him get his bounty reward and escape. Rinse and repeat, going back like a moth to a flame. A powerful and enticing flame that could very well burn him alive.
Even Kiryu knew the routine at this point, the first few times met with confusion and bewilderment, now with a sigh and readied fists. Majima learned quickly that despite Kiryu’s occupation, he upheld a moral code of avoiding killing unless it was necessary and would rather go through the extra effort to keep his captures alive. Oh yeah, Kiryu was a real special treat.
Suddenly, Kiryu pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted. Majima, who was too distracted to notice, realized they were already here, the county jailhouse that rested at the corner of the town. Majima didn’t bother struggling, as he felt Kiryu’s arm loosen his ropes from the saddle and pick him up on his shoulders again. Underneath their combined weight, the floorboards gave a loud creak as Kiryu entered through the door. He grabbed the keys underneath his desk that stood nearby, opens one of the cells and tosses Majima in.
Majima fell with a grunt, felt hands loosen his binds and shot up quickly, ready to kick at Kiryu and make his escape. He then felt the same hands on his shoulders and was met with a harsh headbutt.
“Ow!” He cried out, more in surprise than pain and before he knew it, Kiryu already closed the door on him. There goes his only chance.
“Aw, c’mon Kiryu-chan, at least talk to me.” Majima whined, staggering towards him and pushing as much as his head could fit through the bars, his arms hanging and outstretched. “I know ya really don’t want to keep me in here! With my bounties, yer making as much money as I am!”
“Your bounties are from the government and people who demand your capture, dead or alive. Sooner or later, you’re going to get yourself killed by someone who really wants your head. You’re better off staying here.” Kiryu said, walking back to his desk, not bothering to turn to him.
“Aw, ain’t ya a softie. But you’re liable to get yourself killed too ya know, with yer high and mighty ‘no killing’ rule.” Majima sneers, watching him open a drawer and bring out a pile of paperwork, his wooden chair creaking in protest as he sits down.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you. I live my life the way I like it, you do the way you like it.”
“Ya still don’t want to think about my offer?” Majima suggested, “pretend to capture me, reap yer rewards and then let me escape? I’d say it’s a win-win!”
“I didn’t become a deputy to depend on an outlaw, much less you. I still don’t understand what you would get out of it.” Kiryu said, finally looking up at him, a frown tugging on his lips.
“I told ya, didn’t I? You get yer money from my bounties, I get my money from those pompous assholes and a fight from you! If anything, I’d say yer getting the short end.” Majima said, putting on his best charming smile and a little wink. Or blink, at this point.
Kiryu stares at him, like he’s struggling to understand Majima in a different language. He narrows his eyes and Majima leans on the bars with a small clatter, his head tilting with a smirk.
Kiryu shakes his head and looks back at his papers, “I can never get a read on you…” He mutters, Majima barely catching it with the strain of his ears.
Majima watches him busy himself before letting out an exasperated sigh. Guy was stubborn as a damn mule.
He turns back to his cell and flops onto the thin layer of a dirty mattress and hole-ridden blanket. Might as well enjoy it, Majima wouldn’t mind getting some shut eye with a roof over his head and without worrying someone was gonna kill him in his sleep. He braces his head on his arms and after some adjusting to the lumpy bed, he lets his body relax and drifts.
**********
Majima wakes up to a fly zipping around his head, sleepily waving away at the nagging noise. At one point, Majima was sure it flew into his ear and he woke up with a start. He bats at his ear, only to find it flying away and out the cell, as if taunting him.
Majima yawns, stretches his arms above his head, letting out a relieved sigh. He leans his back onto the bars and rubs at his eye, feeling the satisfaction of a well rested nap seep into his body. The windows are casting rays of vibrant orange, making the jailhouse look like a comfortable home and not a place that stores crooks and criminals. Majima can see the bits of dust floating in the air, and the long shadows of the other cell bars. He reckons that it’s about sundown now, the air cooling into a comfortable warmth compared to the hot afternoon and less chatter outside, the inhabitants of the city returning home after a long day.
On a wooden wall on the opposite side of Kiryu’s desk was a billboard, with several Wanted posters and some smaller advertisements. Majima could see his poster on the forefront of the array of papers: The Mad Dog: Dead or Alive! with some smaller words Majima couldn’t make out. But he could see his picture well enough, a sketch of himself with his malicious smile, trademark eyepatch, and his wild eye.
Majima could give a few pointers on how to improve the image, (his hair was not that shaggy looking and why the hell is the eyepatch on his right side?!) but other than that, it was pretty spot on. He let out a snort in amusement, wondering how they managed to get such an accurate picture in the first place.
Majima shifts his attention to Kiryu who is still working diligently, not realizing that Majima woke up. He also spots the keys to the cells hanging from his jeans. There was his ticket out of here.
“Oi. Kiryu-chan.” he calls out, seeing Kiryu startled out of his focus. He looks up at Majima expectantly.
“What is it?”
Majima rolls his eye. “Can’t a guy want some conversation? C’mere, wanna talk to ya.” He said, waving him over.
Majima can see Kiryu eye at him suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a tight, thin line. He gets up from his chair, and walks over to Majima’s cell, stopping in front of him, keeping his distance.
“C’mon, have a seat,” Majima gestures to the wooden chair behind Kiryu.
Kiryu turns to look at the chair before deciding he doesn't need it, and looks back at Majima.
“I’m not taking up on your offer.”
“Yeah yeah, I know,” Majima said, as he hoisted himself from the ground, sauntering to the end of his cell. He braces his arms on the bars, out of reach from where Kiryu stands. “But I realized we never really had the time to talk, ya know? I’d like to get to know my favorite lawman. So, how about a little chat? Tell me somethin’ about yourself.” He brings an arm in to rest his chin on the back of his hand, giving him something similar to an inviting grin.
“Is… that it?” Kiryu asks, never moving from his spot.
“Just a little thing. And if ya do, I’ll tell ya somethin’ about myself.”
Kiryu observes him carefully, inspecting him from top to bottom like he was expecting a hidden weapon anywhere. But Majima’s arms were completely in his sight, and the gun and knife he usually held were safely tucked into the desk’s drawer.
“Alright…” Kiryu nods slowly, “Let’s see…”
Majima sees his face contort into focus, like the face he had when he was writing up his paperwork. His arms raise up, one hand holding onto his own chin while the other braces underneath his elbow. He tilts his head while he wracks his brain for a bit of information he can freely give out without consequence. Kiryu’s eyes close, and he lets out a small hum.
Adorable.
After a moment, Kiryu’s eyes shoot open, like he experienced a life changing revelation. He locks eyes with Majima.
“My horse’s name is Sunflower.”
Majima snorts, hurriedly taking the hand he was resting on to cover the smile he couldn’t smother down. “Oh… I-Is that so…?” he asks, his voice shaky and on the verge of laughter.
“Yes. Is there a problem?” Kiryu replies hotly, folding his arms.
“N-No, not at all Kiryu-chan! Just… surprising is all.” Majima said, clearing his throat. “Very cute name, fits your horse perfectly.”
Kiryu nods, satisfied, the smallest bit of a smile growing on his lips. “I had Sunflower when I was just a boy. She ate everything but her favorites were the sunflowers that grew on the farm. My brother and I had to move the flowers out of her reach, but sometimes I would sneak one in as a treat.”
Majima drank in the sight of Kiryu recollecting his fond memories from his childhood. The smile caught Majima off guard, being so used to seeing the man have expressions of anger or annoyance. He was convinced Kiryu wasn’t able to smile at all, not with how his resting face looked like if someone took a shit in his breakfast. Majima didn’t realize he was staring until Kiryu looked back at him.
“What?”
“Nah, nothing.” Majima shook his head, trying to focus, “guess that means I gotta share somethin’ right? Hmm…”
Majima taps at his chin, suddenly unsure of what to share about himself. Most of his first thoughts were untasteful or brought up bad memories. It might surprise you, but even Majima had a sense of self preservation, despite his goading on Kiryu. As trustworthy as Kiryu seemed, Majima didn’t want to take the slim chance that the information he gave out would stab Majima in the back.
After a few more hums, Majima got something.
“Ya ever seen a knife like mine?” Majima asks. Kiryu shook his head. “Exclusive imported steel. Was a real bitch to get my hands on. The engravings were made by an ol’ friend. The last thing he gave me before he kicked the bucket.” Majima sighs, suddenly wistful.
“A great man, he was. Old, cranky to high hell, but his work was undeniably the best in the country. A damn good poker player too.” Majima chuckles.
Kiryu seems to be a little more intrigued now, he looks up thoughtfully as he seems to recall the knife that was cutting him up earlier. “That’s amazing… I’m sorry for your loss.”
Majima shrugs, “Eh, it was a long time ago. He’s lived a long life and he died on his own terms. I’m sure he’s enjoying poker with all his buddies in heaven or whatever.”
Kiryu nods, “He sounds like a remarkable man.”
“Okay!” Majima shouts, Kiryu flinching at the sudden noise. Majima was trying to avoid the depressing shit but he didn’t think he would go for the sentimental route. “Yer turn, Kiryu-chan!”
“Right.” Kiryu said, but he didn't continue. Kiryu looks at him with a lost look on his face. “I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”
“I’m sure ya can think of somethin’!' Majima encourages, “How ‘bout yer lady? You a married man or what?”
Kiryu pauses, his mouth opening and closed. “No,” he finally said, “I don’t have anyone.”
“Haw? Ya serious? Pretty boy like you don’t have a sweetheart?” Kiryu squints at him and shakes his head. “Shit, guess we’re all fucked.” Majima remarked, scratching his head. At least he didn’t have to worry about accidentally making some poor woman a widow.
“Alright, let’s change it up a little. How ‘bout this time, you can ask me anything ya want.” Majima said with a clap of his leather gloved hands.
“Why do you keep getting into trouble?” Kiryu asks immediately. Oh, that was quick.
“Well, aren’t ya eager? Ya curious about yer favorite outlaw?” Majima teases, watching Kiryu fidget a little.
“No, just… I really don’t understand you at all.” Kiryu said, his frown returning, “You constantly run around town stirring up trouble, and just wait there, like you’re expecting me. But not to kill or rob, but to fight? Most guys, they do whatever it takes to survive and kill whoever they have to, not worrying about their dignity or honor. And whenever they get too close for comfort, they take the chance to skip town.” Kiryu's warm eyes meet Majima’s curious gaze.
“And well, I’ve heard of you before. The Mad Dog, the man who would travel all throughout the country to start up any and all types of trouble just for kicks, only to slip out numerous times. But lately, you’ve seemed to stick around. I thought that if you had your fun, you would get your fill and move on.” He pauses and Majima only realized that he took a step closer to him. “But you didn’t. I’d catch you, you’d escape, and yet… you keep coming back. You’re still here. I just don’t understand why.”
Majima didn’t know what to say. He didn’t realize Kiryu paid this much attention to him, he just thought of himself as just another nagging fly coming back to buzz in Kiryu’s busy ears. It was hitting a little too close to home.
Majima lets out a big sigh. He hated it was going to come to an end like this, now that he seems to be regrettably growing fond of this town’s deputy.
“Ya really wanna know why?” Majima asks, looking away from him to look at the jailhouse’s wooden walls.
Kiryu doesn’t say anything but his silence speaks for him.
“It’s… well…” Majima starts, mumbling into something incoherent.
“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.” Kiryu takes another step closer.
“I said…” Majima mumbles again, looking down at his steel capped boots.
“You need to speak up, I can’t hear you.” Kiryu’s right in front of him now, his feet in Majima’s vicinity.
Majima takes the chance to grab at his vest, pulling Kiryu to the bars with a loud rattle. He lets out a surprised noise, his body tensing beneath his grip before relaxing again. Majima was willing to guess that Kiryu still thinks he wasn’t a threat, due to the absence of his weapons or with the bars dividing them. Kiryu probably thought he could overpower any move Majima tries to pull on him.
We’ll see about that.
Majima leans as close as he could, whispering right next to Kiryu’s ear. “‘Cause I like ya.” He rumbles, his gravelly voice contrasting his usual high lilting tone. He doesn’t miss the shiver that ran through Kiryu’s body.
“You’re a fun guy, Kiryu-chan. You really get me going. Thought I could stay in town just to see what else ya can do.” He let his other hand reach out through the cell bars to touch Kiryu’s chest, his hand moving slowly, appreciating the muscle beneath the layers of clothing. “You know how to give a good fight, satisfying that itch I can’t scratch.”
He gives an obscene hum and hears Kiryu’s breath hitch. “Ya throw me so well, I can’t resist keeping away from ya. Hey, Kiryu-chan? Do ya like me too? Am I good enough for ya that ya can’t resist me? Hm?” Majima turns his head slightly, he sees Kiryu’s face in a stone faced expression, but Majima didn’t miss how his cheeks were glowing a slight red, refusing to meet his eye. Majima smirks.
The hand groping at Kiryu’s chest snakes around him. Kiryu’s back arches slightly underneath Majima’s slow descent to the small of his back.
“Then how ‘bout this? Maybe we can have some fun together. No strings attached, just some foolin’ around.” Majima’s hand drifts to Kiryu’s hip.
“Whaddya say, cowboy? Want me to take ya for a ride?”
Kiryu pushes himself out of his grip, stumbles backward over the chair and falls to the floor with a grunt. Majima couldn’t stop his laughter bubbling out of his throat, his sound loud in his own ears. He gazed appreciatively at Kiryu's new look, his face flushed to the tips of his ears and down his exposed chest. Kiryu stumbles back up, frantically dusting himself off and adjusting his clothing.
“Y-You can’t… Don’t think you can get away with this.” Kiryu starts, wiping away at his face, a weak attempt to pull himself together. His glare was losing its usual effect with the heavy blush.
“Ah…” Majima sighs, coming down from his cackling, “But ya see, I already have.”
Confusion crosses Kiryu’s face before the cell door bursts open, knocking him back down. Majima takes the chance to grab onto Kiryu’s vest and deliver a similar headbutt, keeping him disoriented. He hauls Kiryu onto his wavering feet and into his own open cell.
Kiryu’s cell now.
With a shake of his head, Kiryu looks up to see Majima already locking the cell door. He runs up to the door and grabs the bars, jostling it as much as he can. It rattled and clanged, but it didn’t budge. Kiryu took a chance to grab for Majima through the openings but missed him, Majima backing up just out of his reach, spinning the keys on his finger.
“Sorry ‘bout this Kiryu-chan. I had a pleasant chat, really. But ya said it yerself, I gotta get movin’!” Majima said cheerfully, humming a short tune as he fetched his gun and knife.
“You were great company,” his voice slightly muffled as he searched the multiple drawers. He raises his head, a pleased smile spreading across his face. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned! “I’d recommend ya to any of my buddies if they happen to get their asses caught. Ya know, if they even have a say in the matter!”
Majima strolls back to the front of Kiryu’s cell, gazing upon Kiryu’s infuriated face, the traces of his flush lingering. His hands were still gripping tightly to the bars, his knuckles turning white. Majima takes a grand bow, still out of Kiryu’s reach.
“Majima, don’t you dare - !”
“‘Til next time Deputy!” Majima sang, turning on a heel with a skip in his step. He tosses the keys onto the desk and he waltzes out the front door.
Majima already couldn’t wait to see him again.