Chapter Text
The rain had stopped, but the city was still soaking wet. Puddles reflected the early morning sky, a canvas of grays and whites. Sanemi stepped out of his penthouse, buttoning up his black trench coat, and took a deep breath. The scent of wet earth and concrete filled his nose as he descended the stairs, the sound of his shoes echoing in the quiet hallway. As he reached the street, the world began to stir. Cars splashed through the puddles, and the distant chatter of early risers grew clearer.
He continued walking, the mist kissing his cheeks, leaving tiny beads of water that soon became one with his skin. The buildings around him looked like they had been washed clean, the grime of the city temporarily wiped away by the storm. His eyes scanned the horizon, noticing the buildings' tops shrouded in a lingering fog. Sanemi felt a sense of calm, as if the storm had washed away the stress of the week, leaving behind a new, unblemished day.
The sidewalks were slick, and the occasional gust of wind sent leaves pirouetting around his feet. He picked up the pace, the cold seeping into his bones. His office was a good twenty minutes away he had a car to drive, but the brisk walk always helped him wake up, clear his head.
As he turned the corner, a 24 hour café emerged from the mist, lights flickering to life like a beacon. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out, mingling with the damp air. Sanemi's stomach rumbled; he hadn't had breakfast. He glanced at his watch - 6:45 AM. Plenty of time before the morning meeting. A warm cup of coffee sounded heavenly.
Pushing open the door, he was greeted by yelling. "Sir! You've You've here for hours if your not going to order anything then leave!" The barista was a young woman with her hair pulled back into a messy bun, clearly frazzled by the early morning rush. Sanemi raised an eyebrow, the unexpected aggression jolting him out of his tranquil state.
She was yelling at a young man around Sanemi's age. He was drenched head to toe in rain with a pale face and haunted eyes. His clothes clung to him like a second skin, and his shivering was almost violent. The man looked up at Sanemi, and for a moment, their gazes met. Sanemi felt a pang of empathy; the storm had been brutal, and the man clearly hadn't had the luxury of a warm, dry home to wait it out.
"If I buy him a drink can he stay?" Sanemi asked, approaching the counter. The barista's expression softened, nodding curtly. "What do you want to drink?"
The man's eyes widened in surprise, then relief. "A... a hot tea, please," he stuttered, his voice shaking almost as much as his body.
Sanemi ordered a black coffee for himself and the tea for the stranger, handing over a crisp bill. "Keep the change," he told the barista, who murmured a quiet 'thank you'.
The man took the tea gratefully, wrapping his hands around the warm mug like it was a lifeline. Sanemi sat down at the table across from him, taking in the shivering, rain-soaked figure. "Rough night?" he asked, his voice calm and even.
The stranger nodded, taking a tentative sip before speaking. "Yeah, you could say that." His teeth chattered slightly as he spoke.
Sanemi studied him over the rim of his coffee cup, noticing the bruises peeking out from beneath the wet fabric of his shirt. "Looks like you could use a hand," he said, his voice a blend of concern and curiosity.
The man's eyes searched Sanemi's, looking for a sign of judgment or insincerity, but found only genuine interest. "I couldn't afford my rent... I had no where to go..." He took a deep breath, the warmth of the tea seeping into his bones. "I've been out there all night."
Sanemi leaned in slightly, his gaze never wavering. "What's your name?"
The stranger took another sip of tea, the warmth spreading through his body. "It's... it's Giyuu," he replied, his voice still shaking.
Sanemi nodded, taking a moment to process the situation. He knew what it was like to face hardships; he'd built his company from the ground up. "Look, Giyuu, I've got a meeting in a bit, but I can't just leave you out here. You need to get somewhere safe and dry."
Giyuu's eyes remained fixed on his tea, avoiding Sanemi's gaze. "I don't have anywhere to go," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the café's espresso machine.
Sanemi leaned back in his chair, considering his options. He had a soft spot for those in need, a trait that he got from being the oldest sibling. "Tell you what," he began, his voice firm but kind. "You come with me to my office. You can clean up, get some rest. After that, we'll figure something out."
Giyuu's eyes shot up, filled with a mix of hope and doubt. "Why would you do that?" he asked, his voice still trembling.
Sanemi took a sip of his coffee, his expression unreadable. "Let's just say I know what it's like to face a storm without shelter."
Giyuu studied him, unsure of what to make of the offer. After a moment of silence, he nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered, his eyes brimming with gratitude.
Sanemi gave a curt nod, finishing his coffee. "Good. Let's go."
They walked in companionable silence, the city slowly coming to life around them. Giyuu's shivering had subsided, but his eyes remained haunted, darting around as if expecting trouble to jump out from every shadow. Sanemi knew that look; it was the same one his mother had whenever his father was around.
When they arrived at the office, it was still mostly deserted. Sanemi led Giyuu to a small bathroom in the back, handing him a towel and a spare shirt from his office. "Make yourself comfortable," he said, his tone gentle. "I've got to prep for my meeting."
Giyuu nodded, his hand shaking as he took the items. Sanemi watched him disappear into the bathroom, then turned to the mirror and took a deep breath. He hadn't anticipated this detour in his morning routine, but something about Giyuu's plight resonated with him. He knew what it was like to feel lost and powerless.
As he sat down at his desk, his mind raced with questions. What had led Giyuu to this point? Was there something more to his story than just a missed rent payment? Sanemi had seen the desperation in his eyes, and it was a look that didn't come from a single misfortune.
The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled him from his thoughts. Giyuu emerged, looking slightly less bedraggled in the dry clothes. The oversized shirt hung on his slim frame, but the warmth had brought some color back to his cheeks.
"Thank you," Giyuu said, his voice stronger now. "I can't remember the last time I felt this warm."
Sanemi nodded, gesturing to the couch in the corner of his office. "Why don't you rest there for a bit?"
Giyuu gratefully took a seat, the cushions enveloping him in a soft embrace. Sanemi turned his attention to the paperwork sprawled across his desk, trying to focus on the upcoming meeting, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the stranger. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Giyuu's story, something that the rain had washed to the surface but not quite revealed.
As the minutes ticked by, the office began to fill with the murmur of employees arriving for the day. The scent of fresh coffee and the hum of early morning chatter filled the air. Giyuu remained on the couch, his eyes closed, but Sanemi could tell he wasn't sleeping. The tension in his body was palpable.
Sanemi's assistant, a young man named Obanai poked his head through the door. "The team is assembling for the meeting," he said, his eyes flicking to Giyuu before returning to his boss.
Sanemi nodded. "Give us a few minutes, will you?"
Obanai cast a curious glance at Giyuu but retreated without question. Sanemi turned back to Giyuu, who now sat up, his eyes alert.
"Look, Giyuu," Sanemi began, leaning back in his chair. "I've got a penthouse not far from here. It's pretty spacious, and I could use the company. Why don't you stay with me for a while?"
Giyuu's eyes widened in shock. "With you?" he repeated, as if the words didn't quite make sense.
Sanemi nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, with me. You need a place to stay, and I could use someone to keep me on my toes." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "Take the time during my meeting to think about it. There's no pressure."
Giyuu sat there, the weight of the offer settling on him like a warm blanket. The kindness in Sanemi's eyes was almost too much to bear after the cold, hard world he'd faced all night. "I... I don't know what to say," he murmured, his voice cracking.
Sanemi clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the office. "Don't say anything now. Just think about it. Now, I've got to go handle these vultures," he said with a wry smile, gesturing to the boardroom. "But remember, you're not alone. I'll check on you when I'm done."
Giyuu nodded, still in disbelief, as Sanemi left the room. He took a deep breath, the warmth of the office enveloping him like a gentle hug. He looked around the space, the sleek lines and modern decor a stark contrast to the cold, damp world he'd just left. The couch was more comfortable than any bed he'd slept in for months.
Exhaustion overtook him like a tidal wave, and before he could even process the gravity of the situation, his eyes grew heavy. He leaned back, the cushions seemingly molding to his body, and let sleep claim him. His mind swam with images of the stormy night, the cold, and the fear, but they were quickly replaced by a sense of safety, the kind he hadn't felt in a very long time.
Giyuu's breathing evened out, and his muscles relaxed as the warmth of the office lulled him into a deep slumber. The couch, which had been his only shelter from the storm mere minutes ago, now felt like a throne in a palace of kindness. Sanemi's words echoed in his mind: "You're not alone." It was a simple phrase, but it held a power that no amount of money or shelter could ever match.
Sanemi stepped into the boardroom, his mind still with Giyuu. The team looked up, expecting their usual leader, but found a man with a softer edge. He took his seat at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the faces of his employees. They were all so focused on their work, so insulated from the struggles of the outside world.
The meeting began with the usual reports and updates, but Sanemi's thoughts kept drifting to the man in his office. He found himself wondering if he was making the right decision. Inviting a stranger into his home was risky, but something about Giyuu's desperation called to him. He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the numbers and strategies presented before him.
As the meeting dragged on, his mind kept returning to the bruises on Giyuu's body. They weren't the kind you get from a fall or a bar fight; they were the deliberate marks of someone who had been hit, repeatedly and with intent. Sanemi felt a spark of anger, a flame that grew stronger with each passing moment. Who would do such a thing? And why?
The meeting concluded with a round of nods and murmurs of agreement. As his employees filed out, Sanemi's thoughts raced. He needed to know more about Giyuu, to understand the depth of the storm that had brought him to this point. He stood, straightening his tie, and headed back to his office.
Giyuu was still on the couch, though he'd shifted slightly in his sleep. Sanemi approached quietly, not wanting to disturb him. The bruises on Giyuu's face had turned a darker shade of purple, standing out against his pale skin. The sight stirred a protective instinct within Sanemi, one he hadn't felt since his siblings were small and vulnerable.
He sat on the edge of the couch, placing a hand on Giyuu's shoulder. "Hey," he whispered, gently shaking him. "Giyuu, wake up."
Giyuu's eyes fluttered open, and he sat up with a start, his hand shooting to his face instinctively. Sanemi could see the fear momentarily flash across his features before it was replaced with relief.
"You okay?" Sanemi asked, his voice low and steady.
Giyuu nodded, rubbing his eyes and looking around, momentarily disoriented. "Yeah, I'm... I'm fine," he murmured, still reeling from the sudden shift in his fortunes.
Sanemi studied him for a moment before speaking. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I'm serious about my offer. You can stay with me until we figure out what's next."
Giyuu's eyes searched Sanemi's, looking for any sign of deception, but all he found was sincerity. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.
Sanemi sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Because everyone deserves a break from the storm," he said, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "And I have a feeling yours is far from over."
Giyuu looked down at his hands, twisting the towel around his fingers. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Sanemi leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Nothing more than for you to get back on your feet," he said firmly. "You don't owe me anything, except maybe helping out around the penthouse. Cook a meal, keep the place tidy."
Giyuu nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. He knew he had nothing to lose, and the alternative was too dire to consider. "Okay," he murmured, "I'll do it."
Sanemi gave a firm nod, his eyes searching Giyuu's face for any sign of doubt. "Good," he said, standing up. "Let's get you to my place."
"Already? Don't you have work to do?"
Sanemi's smile was reassuring. "My schedule's flexible. Besides, I think we both know that you're not going to get any more rest here."
Giyuu nodded, his eyes still glued to the floor. He didn't know how to process this sudden turn of events. "Thank you," he murmured.
Sanemi took the lead, guiding Giyuu through the bustling city streets, the early morning crowd parting around them like a river around a rock. The penthouse was a sanctuary above the chaos, a bastion of luxury that Giyuu had only ever seen in magazines. The view was breathtaking, the city sprawling out before them like a giant, gleaming playground.
Inside, the warmth of the penthouse enveloped Giyuu like a warm embrace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a place so clean, so... safe. Sanemi showed him to a guest room, and Giyuu took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the grime of the night. The towels were fluffy, the soap smelled of sandalwood, and the shampoo left his hair feeling cleaner than it had in months.
As he stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The bruises stood out against his pale skin.
Sanemi waited in the living room, going through some emails on his laptop. He heard the shower turn off and knew Giyuu would be out soon. The quiet was suddenly pierced by the sound of the bedroom door opening.
Giyuu emerged, his hair still damp, wearing a pair of Sanemi's sweatpants and a t-shirt that was too large for him. He looked around the room, taking in the grandeur of his surroundings. The plush carpet felt like clouds under his feet, and the smell of clean laundry was almost overwhelming.
"Your place is... amazing," Giyuu said, his voice filled with awe.
Sanemi glanced up from his laptop, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's home," he replied, his eyes scanning Giyuu's reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. The oversized clothes made him look younger, more vulnerable.
"Home," Giyuu repeated, the word feeling foreign on his tongue. "I haven't had one of those in a while."
Sanemi nodded, understanding more than Giyuu could ever know. "Well, for now, it's yours too," he said, shutting his laptop with a decisive click. "Make yourself comfortable. There's food in the fridge if you're hungry."
Giyuu nodded, his stomach growling at the mention of food. He hadn't eaten since the day before, and the tea had only reminded him of how empty he was. He padded into the kitchen, the smell of fresh brewed coffee still lingering in the air.
The fridge was stocked with an assortment of fruits, meats, and cheeses, more food than he'd seen in one place in months. He grabbed an apple and took a bite, the tartness making his mouth water. As he ate, he couldn't shake the feeling of disbelief. How had he gone from the cold, hard streets to this warm, luxurious penthouse in the span of a few hours?
Sanemi watched Giyuu from the living room, his mind racing. There was something about the way Giyuu moved, the way he held himself, that spoke of a strength that had been tested and not yet broken. He knew that he was taking a risk, but his gut told him that this was the right thing to do.
As Giyuu finished his apple, Sanemi cleared his throat. "If you like I can take you shopping tomorrow, get you some clothes and shoes."
Giyuu's eyes widened, the offer hitting him like a wave. "That's... that's really kind of you," he stuttered, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.
Sanemi waved a hand, dismissing his words. "Think nothing of it. You can't live in my clothes forever, they're too big for you."
Giyuu's cheeks flushed with a hint of a smile. "Thank you," he said sincerely, feeling the weight of his situation lift slightly.
Sanemi nodded. "Now, if you're feeling up to it, I'd like to hear more about what happened. Maybe I can help you figure out your next steps."
Giyuu took a deep breath, his eyes flicking to the floor before meeting Sanemi's. "I... I don't know where to start," he admitted, his voice shaky.
Sanemi nodded, patience etched into every line of his face. "Start with what you're comfortable sharing," he said gently. "You don't have to tell me everything if you don't want too."
Giyuu took a deep breath, the weight of his story heavy on his chest. "I-I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it... I'm sorry..."
Sanemi's eyes softened. "It's okay. Take your time. But know that when you're ready, I'm here to listen."
Giyuu nodded, his gaze lingering on the floor. He knew he'd have to tell Sanemi eventually, but the words felt lodged in his throat, heavy and painful. He took a deep breath, trying to push the memories back down.
Sanemi, sensing Giyuu's discomfort, changed the subject. "How about we get some dinner instead?" he suggested, his voice gentle. "I know a great ramen place nearby. It'll be my treat."
"You've already treated me enough," Giyuu said, his voice still heavy with emotion. "But... I could use a good meal."
Sanemi nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Good, I'll grab my coat," he said, standing up.
Giyuu followed him into the hallway, his eyes scanning the rows of coats and shoes neatly organized by the door. He found a pair of sneakers that looked close to his size and slipped them on.
As they stepped out into the cool evening air, the sounds of the city rushed back to greet them. It had started raining again, but Sanemi had brought an umbrella to cover them both. "Do you want to walk or drive?" he asked Giyuu.
Giyuu looked up at the rain, he didn't want to get wet again. Even though they gad an umbrella, misfortune always found it's way to him. "Let's drive," he said, his voice still carrying the heaviness of his untold story.
Sanemi walked over to the garage, and with a beep from his key fob, the sleek black sedan's lights flickered to life. He opened the passenger door for Giyuu, watching as the man slid into the plush leather seat with a look of wonder. Giyuu had never been in a car like this.
They drove through the city, the rain creating a rhythmic symphony on the car's roof. The wipers swiped the windshield, clearing the path ahead. Giyuu stared out the window, Sanemi remained silent, giving him space to process everything.
The ramen place was a small, unassuming spot, nestled between two larger buildings. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of steaming broth and the sound of slurped noodles. Sanemi led Giyuu to a cozy booth in the back. The warmth from the kitchen wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.
"What's your favorite?" Sanemi asked as he opened the menu. Giyuu's eyes scanned the options, his mouth watering at the thought of a hot meal. "I usually go for the shoyu ramen," Giyuu said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sanemi nodded. "Good choice. That's what I'll have too."
The waitress took their order, and they sat in a comfortable silence, the only sound the sizzle of the kitchen and the pitter-patter of rain outside. Giyuu couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. The warmth of the restaurant and the smell of the food made his stomach rumble. Sanemi took out his phone, checking messages, but his eyes kept drifting to Giyuu, studying him as if trying to piece together the puzzle of his life.
The food arrived, steaming hot, and Giyuu took a tentative sip of the rich, salty broth. It was heavenly, warming him from the inside out. He'd never tasted anything so good. Sanemi watched him, his own hunger momentarily forgotten. "You know," he began, setting his chopsticks down, "you don't have to hide everything. I can tell you've been through something... something serious." He didn't want to push Giyuu into sharing but he desperate to learn more about the man who had stumbled into his life.
Giyuu paused, the noodles hanging from his mouth. He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Sanemi's. "It's complicated," he finally said, his voice tight with emotion.
Sanemi nodded, his expression understanding. "I'm not asking for details, not yet," he assured. "But if you ever need to talk, I'm here."
Giyuu took a deep breath, his eyes filling with gratitude. The warmth in Sanemi's voice was something he hadn't heard in a long time. "Thank you," he murmured, before returning to his meal.
As they ate, the conversation remained light, but Giyuu could feel the weight of his past pressing down on him. Sanemi talked about his work, the office politics, and the challenges of running a company. Giyuu listened, nodding along, but his thoughts were a whirlwind of memories and fears.
When they finished, Sanemi paid the bill and they stepped out into the night, the rain now a gentle patter on the umbrella. Giyuu felt a pang of sadness as they approached the car; the comfort of the warm restaurant was being replaced by the cold reality of his situation.
As Sanemi began to drove back, Giyuu felt his head falling. He was exhausted but he had to stay awake until they got back.
"You can rest," Sanemi said, noticing Giyuu's heavy eyelids.
Giyuu nodded, his head lolling against the headrest. The warmth of the car and the fullness in his stomach were too much to fight. He closed his eyes, letting the gentle hum of the engine lull him into a doze. Sanemi watched him, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to ensure Giyuu was okay before focusing back on the road.
When they arrived back at the penthouse, Giyuu was fast asleep. Sanemi carried him to the guest bedroom, placing him gently on the bed. He pulled the covers over Giyuu, watching him for a moment.
The bruises on Giyuu's face stood out like dark constellations on a moonless night. Sanemi studied them closely, his eyes narrowing as he traced the patterns with his gaze. They weren't random; they told a story of calculated cruelty. His stomach turned at the thought of what Giyuu had endured.
He turned away, leaving Giyuu to his rest. In the quiet of the penthouse, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to echo through the vast, empty spaces. Sanemi walked into his own bedroom, his mind racing with questions and concerns. Who had hurt Giyuu so badly? And why?
Sanemi knew he had to tread carefully. He'd seen the fear in Giyuu's eyes when he talked about his past. It was a fear that went beyond the pain of bruises and cuts; it was the fear of someone who had been through hell and wasn't sure if the devil was still chasing him.
He went to bed, his thoughts swirling with images of Giyuu's bruised face. He lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, the rain's lullaby playing outside his window. He wondered what had brought Giyuu to this point, what demons he was running from.
Finally, unable to fight his own fatigue any longer, he drifted into a restless sleep, his dreams haunted by shadows of the past and whispers of an unknown future.