Chapter Text
DEC 1, 2015
The sunrise is beautiful. Somber darkness bleeds through to reveal a mellow orange in the skies above. The frosted mountains peer down upon the sleeping city nestled in its valley. Its presence blends this newfound light with a gentle blue hue, finally bringing life to these muted layers of snow.
How peaceful it seems. Each role is fulfilled with such grace, nearly untouched by human turmoil.
The morning wind bites. Its teeth fiercely graze Kai’s cheeks. Every inhale aggravates his scarred throat, still sorely scraping against his lungs after sprinting to the Chidouin residence. Tending to the family within had allowed him a brief reprieve, but standing in the crisp air again lights the tender wicks aflame.
Once the door behind him opens, a familiar stride hits the wooden patio and echoes through the hollow floor beneath—for as deliberate as it appears, Kai notes a slight weight upon the right leg which forever spites this man's attempts to conceal his limp. A hand meets his shoulder, and only then does he glance beside himself. Master Chidouin settles at his left side, finally resting his briefcase before the stairs. With his hand free, Hikari pulls out a cigarette pack from his inner suit jacket and takes one for himself, offering another for his assistant. Shaking his head, Kai instead asks: “Is Atsuko-san ready?”
“Just about,” and the words scarcely leave his lips when he ignites the lighter.
“She’ll be alright,” Kai promises, tentatively raising his hand to rest upon his elder’s—firmly clasped upon his shoulder, as though he fears to lose his support. Ever slightly, Kai inclines his head Hikari’s direction. “In a half hour alone, she has regained her strength.”
Hikari exhales, letting the smoke trail off in a bitter whisper. The acrid taste stings Kai’s tongue, though he quickly suppresses the rising cough. It disperses into the cold dawn, its source clear as the day to come: this is the second seizure Atsuko has had within four days, meaning they cannot hold off on their intended appointment with Asunaro’s hospital any longer. It is only natural for Hikari to rely on this habit more than before, even if it betrays the unspoken worry eating away at him. The sight is a painful one, knowing aloud the most he’ll ever allow is: “I know.”
Though the phrase exists as an effort to reassure, those few words plant an inexorable dread in Kai’s chest.
Even so, when Hikari lets go of his hand to bring him into a half-hug, Kai finds it difficult to cling to anything but the warmth of his embrace.
“Asunaro’s got it handled.”
As if an ember has broken from his hearth, his words burn upon Kai’s chest with abrupt guilt. His fists curl around the railing. Despite ensuring the Chidouin parents are no longer ignorant of its truth, Asunaro continues to seep into the every day lives of its candidates, presenting its unwavering support without word of its ulterior motivation. After all, Hikari’s past as an aide to his father—a provincial minister—secures him as a valuable asset for its present political ambitions. None within Asunaro’s core facility would dare lay a finger upon such a high-profile patient.
Kai selfishly lets himself lean against Hikari’s shoulder. The tobacco is strong, but somehow nostalgic, and he finds himself wondering if he’ll be able to remove any ashy undertone from this new suit. A separate wash wouldn’t suffice, considering the material warrants a thorough dry cleaning.
“Hey, now. What’s the frown ‘bout?” Hikari asks, nudging his shoulder.
“Ah…” Thinking too much, is what Hikari would undoubtedly tease. Always one to live in the moment. In lieu of his other concerns, Kai puts forth one of his more immediate worries: “Did you remember your medicine?”
“Yeah. I’ve got just about everything.” He takes another drag and idly taps the end against the railing. With a gentle squeeze, he casts a grin Kai’s way that does little to rid the worried crease in his brow. “Really, I oughta thank you for coming out so early to help us with this.”
Kai simply bows his head. “It is no trouble.”
To that, Hikari scoffs a weak laugh and fondly pats Kai’s back; for as strong as he is, he stays mindful to never push very hard. Kai recalls thinking him too abrasive, with a strangely forward approach he once considered synonymous with disingenuity. The first months with this line of thought couldn’t be more crooked. As the years have crawled on, Kai has learned Hikari. He has seen the fractures which eventually gave way to such a compassionate soul—the very same he must’ve recognized in Kai himself, to so dauntlessly bring him from the abyss.
Even now, he keeps him close. Never to lose again.
Behind them, the door creaks open once more to reveal Atsuko. A large coat covers her dress; she pulls the hood over herself and lets her braided auburn hair rest on her shoulder. Though she shares her husband’s wry smile, refined over years, there exists a subtlety in her expression which Hikari refuses. Rather, he is reliant on confidence alone to carry his facade through.
With no more than a polite cough, she quickly catches Hikari’s attention—his red earring spacers flicker in the light when he turns on his heel. He immediately crushes the cigarette under foot, kicking it to the pavement below so he may place all focus upon her. Atsuko graciously accepts his efforts to stabilize her with some murmuring; however, when he delicately brings a hand to hold her cheek…
…for their sake, Kai glances away when Hikari begins to whisper. While lip-reading is a useful practice, it’s become unfortunate second-nature. Instead, he moves past them and into the entryway. If anything has slipped their mind after the morning’s disarray, responsibility then falls to him to find it.
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” and Atsuko’s gentle laugh shines with the wind chime, now singing as the breeze picks up.
“That it is,” Hikari agrees, but just as he clears his throat—Kai returns with the thermos bottle in hand, silently offering the tea to Atsuko. “Oh, thanks kid.”
“Of course, sir.” Kai again bows. “Atsuko-san’s suitcase is already in the back seat. Is there anything more you require?”
“Always the thoughtful one, this one,” she teases, lightly patting her husband’s shoulder before taking the canister; still, her hands tremble. Kai finds the edges of his frown deepen. It seems she consciously tightens her hold before daring to address him directly: “No, that’s quite alright, Kai-san. Thank you.”
Kai nods, finally raising his head to meet Hikari’s fond eyes.
“And I’ve got all I need here.” He picks up the briefcase, showing it off with an easy grin. “I’ll be sure to call you if we’ve gotta stay the night.”
Atsuko scoffs and pulls him forward, turning her back to the staircase—much to Hikari’s chagrin. He quickly brings an arm behind her for further support, leaving no excuse for Kai to follow. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll have me stay the night just to soothe you. You really are such a worrywart, you know.”
“For good reason, Atsuko-san,” Kai wryly points out. “Please do take care.”
“It isn’t anything we haven’t dealt with before,” she says as if it assures. For all her bravado, she nonetheless allows Hikari to guide her down the steps and toward the car.
“Sure, but I’d just hate to see you deal with it again.” Hikari shakes his head in exasperation, fretting over her with such pain in his eyes. “The doctors should’ve figured this out years ago, but—”
“But perhaps we’re just unlucky,” she finishes with a kiss upon his cheek. “Now, go on. I can open the door myself, dear.”
Hikari sighs, but his gaze only softens as he concedes. Naturally, he strays close enough to catch her if need be until she's prepared. Kai lingers beneath the awning and says nothing. Unlucky doesn’t begin to describe it. Multiple sclerosis has no viable cure. No amount of research Asunaro has poured into these degenerative conditions will amount to much. Morbid it may be, Kai cannot help but think its scientists only ever excel in tangibly worsening the human status. Many of its recent developments have made their debut in torture, often resulting in the target begging execution—if they were still capable of speech. Even Father’s own medicinal discoveries have been left idle for nearly a decade in favor of Asunaro’s confidential projects.
Were Hikari to increase the percentage he funneled into Asunaro’s clean research, the money would inevitably slip into sponsoring far less ethical means of progression. The only worth he held to them without a political position was in the information he had sworn away. A retiree from public eye has no right to sway Asunaro’s decision. Retracting will not harm them, and condemning them will only bring a gun to his head.
The car rumbles to life, and Kai slowly draws away from his musing.
“Seeya soon, Kai-chan!” Hikari calls cheerfully. His smile doesn’t quite meet his weary eyes.
“Farewell, sir.” With effort, he barely manages to mirror his expression.
Even with the pain it invokes, unhelped by the cold, he’s comforted to see Hikari brighten ever slightly at this feeble smile of his. He has always expressed gratitude for these small gestures, going as far as to say the rarity somehow makes them all the more special.
Only when the car hisses and backs out, does Kai finally allow his smile to fade into his usual flat affect. Alone, quietly looking out upon the patio, the wind only seems to lash out harsher than before. The relentless chill will surely cause his muscles to cramp if he stays much longer, but he wishes to remain where they once were.
Asunaro will fight for Atsuko, but the truth of the matter remains: she is not a real priority. No, that mantle falls to their child.
If anything worse were to happen to Atsuko, these would be their last moments… hanging in the air, stained with the lasting tinge of tobacco. While unwise for her condition, she never asked her husband to quit, meaning it was hardly Kai’s place to suggest anything. Last March, on the eve of her birthday, she even asked Kai to let her have this little indulgence as they spoke on the back lanai. She had poked fun at him, then, for offering to light her cigarette so soon after warning her against it. Kai said nothing of the respect weighing the action.
A sigh leaves his mouth, and his breath forms mist. As the sun raises to dispel it, the cold firmly stands its ground.
Kai supposes he should start arranging the house; he eases himself into its entrance and finally locks the door. The home’s warmth tenders his frigid bones, steadily ebbing away at the aching tension.
He drifts toward the living room where Hikari had first found her. In spite of the initial commotion here, the area appears relatively untouched. Kai pulls the curtains close and shuts off the television, only kneeling to pick up one of the pillows used to elevate her head. Hikari removed her bracelets, and it seems she hadn’t wished to bring them with her; he slips them onto his wrist as a reminder, affixing the magazines left on the coffee table and picking up her glass of water.
Before leaving, he gives one last cursory glance. The photos lining the wall are all as they should be, with all but one of Hikari’s few novels in the shelves. Kai internally smiles. He often offered to read them to Atsuko on days like this, though their favored genres could not be further apart. When her illness was not quite as detrimental, she had prided herself in crafting several suspenseful playscripts—none of which included the overt romance he was so fond of in manga.
Of course, that is manga. Rather ironically, in proper books Hikari favors memoirs and other journalistic writing.
In any case, Kai continues his path to the kitchen and rinses Atsuko’s glass for the dishwasher. Sara had already cleaned out the bowls from breakfast, leaving very little else to be done in the kitchen but save the grocery list.
Kai closes the cupboards and starts up the stairs.
Atsuko’s jewelry case is in the master bathroom, and beyond returning these bracelets, he also intends on seeing if Hikari had indeed remembered his antiarrhythmic medicine. The frantic morning hardly gave him time to gather all he would need for work. Truthfully, even then he spent most of his time helping Atsuko prepare rather than tending to himself. Without Kai, he very well might have left the house with his tie still undone.
He lifts Hikari’s spare suit jackets from the bed and hangs them, then swiftly moves into the bathroom. Its counters are clear, save for Atsuko’s washcloth. Kai simply drapes it on the shower and shifts his attention to the medicine cabinet: only Hikari’s spare bottle is here, amidst all else, meaning he has indeed taken his current prescription with him.
Now for his office, then. Afterward, Kai can gather groceries in preparation for dinner.
As always, the room is left dark with no window for the sun to peer through. Kai approaches the lamp beside his desk and flicks it on. Mahogany bookshelves line the walls, keeping a soothing tone against the deep red.
Kai trails behind the desk, pausing for a moment to look over the framed photo of the Chidouins after Sara’s kendo tournament. Hikari had insisted they commemorate it properly—together. Sara dons her uniform, holding her shinai proudly while her father holds her shoulder and tucks her helmet under his other arm. He wears a dress shirt Kai hasn’t seen in months: a soft orange matching the autumn weather this was taken in, with modest embroidery compared to Atsuko’s own outfit. She loosely wraps an arm around him, wearing a simple white button-down beneath her black vest, leading into a long skirt with floral patterning along its hem.
…Sara quit kendo soon after this, though neither parent speaks of why.
Regardless, it is not his place to inquire. Kai drags his gaze across the rest of the desk. Hikari has taken his laptop with him and shut down his desktop computer, but has left various files scattered about. His coffee has already gone cold as well, left upon a makeshift coaster (his notepad). Kai sets the mug aside so he may gather the folders into one pile.
Kai does not have the key for the filing cabinet. Though, supposing he did have one, he doubts he would understand how Hikari wishes to organize these. Each contain a variety of businesses he’s insured over the years, in no discernable order of importance: from an orphanage, to an unused venue, to Asunaro’s primary facility. A few in the topmost folder seem to have been considerations for a new deal, but he wouldn’t wish to presume. Carefully, he sets the papers upon the cabinet for Hikari’s future use.
The rest of his desk is much easier to arrange. Kai places all but one of the pens back in the drawer, keeping the last one with his notepad just beneath the monitor. Inspecting the floor, he notices a black flash drive he must’ve dropped when arranging the files; he quickly prepares to place it in the main drawer, but pauses before doing so. His fingers brush against a strange indent, and he turns it over only to realize it’s engraved with a number.
No, not just a number.
Kai holds it up against the light, feeling over the etching once more. A mark precedes the 59 written here. Go-ku is its immediate reading, and dread urges him to test it once more under the light for dou. Even so, when including its preface of ten-goku, he finds his heart hasten: Heaven.
While innocent in connotation, this reading boasts the same pride his mind inferred: gokudo, the extreme path. His only path.
…Truly, only a yakuza would assume gokudo as their first thought.
Still, he finds himself staring at this piece in his hand. Its title is unnerving compared to Hikari’s usual joking labels, or lack thereof, imprinted upon his other flash drives. The very nature of its subtlety raises several questions his mind cannot silence.
Despite himself, Kai impulsively pockets the flash drive and kneels. He pushes aside the chair in search of the few spares Hikari keeps in these lower drawers, leaving his heart to pound in his ears, screaming for him to stop—there is nothing else engraved on these—to calm down—even as he brings it to light in hopes of an answer, there is nothing else engraved on these.
Nothing resembles the key in his hand. Heaven.
Kai’s blood runs cold, but it runs; it’s never felt more like poison shooting through his veins, unbearably burning through him with humiliation right on its heels. In honesty, he wishes nothing more than to rein himself in before he irrevocably oversteps. Only he was the Chidouin’s traitor. Did he have no respect for the family which granted him life? No longer survival, but a real life?
An aide should not doubt his master.
A yakuza has no right doubting a civilian.
Yet, he cannot still his hand. It powers the computer on and shakily lifts him to the seat. However foolish, he must see this through to dispel any remaining doubt, lest this spiral into something truly uncontrollable. Any self-contained apprehension may then be spat out into baseless mistrust—Hikari has already endured the worst of Kai’s initial revulsion, he mustn’t suffer any further in the name of supposed vigilance. This paranoia, however well it may have once kept him alive, now only serves their detriment.
Kai brushes his hair aside, swallowing hard as he lifts his hands to the keyboard. Even if he hadn’t asked for suggestions, the password is terribly simple: 15_02. Strawberry, as indicative of Sara’s favored treats, alongside her birth year. Hikari had remarked it looked as though the password was squinting. Kai didn’t understand, but the laughter which soon followed was endearing in its own way. He’s always found joy in such small things. He’s always loved life.
When Kai plugs in the flash drive, his hands freeze above the keys. The computer rings to indicate it’s locked.
Strawberry. 2002. Sara, my angel.
It unlocks—
{ ASU-NARO : ULTIMATUM }
—and in that very moment, Kai chokes.
If it came down to it, would you protect her?
The Ultimatum, which even Asunaro’s own patriarchs had resented. Declaring it an unnecessary relapse of the Hades Incident that had already determined the Godfather. The wake of the Assassin’s Trial only proved their misgivings justified—with no one to care for the heir, what worth was there in sacrificing any more of their own?
Very few knew the cullings by name. Kai hadn’t dared to detail it to the Chidouins until he felt it absolutely necessary. Asunaro has killed people for less.
Yet here, it glowers down at him.
It cannot be real.
Hikari—the Chidouins, they would never—Sara should never have to endure such a harrowing role.
Father raised Kai with every intent of crafting his body into a ruthless weapon. The trials, even as they dragged his soul across the ricasso of Death’s scythe, were forgiven for the higher purpose of creating something worthy of surviving. If not Father, then another would’ve stolen that role and broken him until his only fate was to meet with the rest of the martyred children. The same chastized desperation clouding his superior’s judgement saved him and now indicated this as the only solution. Countless years, excising the humanity he felt he’d infected him with, until only a husk remained—forgiven, knowing all he sought was to look upon a breathing body and say this is my son.
There exists no cost greater than losing this last tie to family.
So why?
Why? When Hikari raised Sara with such care, fortified her with hope and fueled her passions, allowing her to live and love freely. Enacting everything to provide a joyous life for his child, while acutely aware this was never to last. Her own father has staged himself as its executioner. For all the time spent nurturing her for a life longer than his own, he would willingly douse his only child in Asunaro’s poison?
Asunaro is filled with sin. Laced with blood of the innocent and guilty alike, none of whom have deserved the bodily desecration done in the name of efficiency. There is no end to its hunger; it’ll consume its own if it must to march forward without impediment.
Yet after witnessing its reality, salvaging Kai from its depths, Sara’s own guardian intended to plunge her below its surface?
A weak heave breaks Kai’s frozen form. A hand tightens around his chest as if that alone would keep it from constricting; he blinks back the stinging in his eyes. Unable to stop himself, he reads further—each word becomes acid, gnawing away at his resolve, until his vision blurs and shatters before him. Not only Sara, but nearly half the other sacrifices will still be children once the final bells toll.
…In the midst of all his affectation, Kai had been deceived just as well. Having spent so long in its darkness, Hikari’s own light blinded him to the truth.
Despite every warning engraved into his skin, Hikari’s generous warmth had been enough to assuage the sensitive scars. Enveloped in his embrace, he swayed the foreboding silence into something softer, gently guiding Kai out. Providing a semblance of safety, promising stability, was all he needed to wear away at the barrier without retaliation. With pitiful ease, he adeptly wrung Kai’s very soul and hung it bare—mindful as he pierced deeper than before, smiling as he carved his place into his heart.
Hikari knew well before Kai even understood: he had begun to love him in turn.
Kai wants to scream, but he can only grip the desk and cough out the boiling bile trapped in his throat, daring to break through with unbidden tears. Without the table, he can scarcely manage to keep himself upright with this excruciating weight in his chest. His lungs are left abandoned with the rest of this desolate body, instinctively begging for air, clawing at his sore throat for any breaths amidst the weak excuses for laughter that rise from his lips.
After all: to save the many, there is but one way to proceed.
⊱ ☼ ⊰
Kai conceals amiodarone in the meal.
Ibushi Gin (age 8) — Nakamura heir, year 13. Currently housed with single biological mother. Neither are affiliated with Nakamura. AI in progress.
Hikari had never disposed of it properly, despite being weaned off in preparation for tricyclic antidepressants. Amiodarone decompresses the ventricular left of the heart; the negative chronotropic effect causes medication to linger longer. Of course, had he stayed on it, he would notice his other functions begin to slow with it. Kai himself had been the first to suggest another antiarrhythmic in its stead. The two prescriptions, together, would undoubtedly stop his heart.
Mishuku Hinako (age 9) — Myojin heir, year 14; Hiyori subsidiary. Currently housed with paternal aunt, sparse communication with maternal grandfather (Myojin). Upon the end of father’s term in 2009, any remaining contact held with Chidouin had been duly neutralized. In 2012, her mother followed closely in suicide. AI in progress.
As the evening leads on, he may notice irregular arrhythmias. He would never dare speak of it. Hikari is all too proud—all too careful—to not warrant undue concern. A strong, respectable man. And yet his aide now holds his trembling arm to guide him up the stairs. He gathers the medicine on Hikari’s behalf with soft chiding; the voice is not his own, his hands unusually gentle as he presents something to calm his unsteady heart. The medicine will surely placate it quickly enough, so again he tugs Kai’s strings close: why not stay?
Kizuchi Kanna (age 10) — Uehara heir, year 15; revived with Tsukimi’s blood. Officially adopted into the Kizuchi family. None are affiliated with the Ueharas or Tsukimis. AI is nearly finalized. Final notes: suspected development with her sister requires attentive, short updates.
Thank you, the elder says. His elder, though Master has never been more apt.
Chen Anzu (age 11) — Chen heir, year 16; new branch with Ogasawara and Rikuno support. Currently in Asunaro Orphanage custody. AI is up to date.
Of course, the agent says. Staring with Asunaro’s eyes, unwilling to let his gaze break again. Never again.
Kageyama Ranmaru (age 12) — Shirogane heir, year 17; Gotō subsidiary. Currently adopted into the Kageyama family. AI requires update once foster family is finalized; dismiss detailed updates for families prior to Tran.
As the chemicals still in his blood, as his heart seizes, as his hand clutches a cold glove—Satou leans close.
Chidouin Sara (age 13) — My ANGEL…
"I will bear this sin myself.”