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Movies love portraying the stories of people who've been diagnosed with terminal illnesses, showing these individuals complete a bucket list, find love, fall into depression, become superheroes, anything that could represent a big change in their lives.
Kitaoka wasn't interested in any of that. It came as no surprise when the doctor told him that he only had a few months left to live. Somehow, he knew that no miracle could ever give him eternal life, no matter how much he fought.
But that was fine. Despite having only just reached his thirties, Kitaoka felt nothing but satisfaction and happiness when he thinks about his life. He sits in his luxury desk chair, looking at the multitude of files containing the details of people who depend on him, smiling with pride at the various magazine and journal clippings of his own face that decorate an entire wall of his house.
However, it's the smell of various spices being masterfully used by the person currently working in his kitchen that brings him the most joy. Regardless of the several people he went out with every other day of the week, coming home to his assistant was what made Kitaoka feel the most satisfied with the life he was living.
Gorou walks into the room with a platter covered in food, a shy smile on his face as he notices the way Kitaoka was looking at him, full of admiration for the one who protected, cared, loved him at any time of the day.
"Thank you, Gorou. This is wonderful." Is all Kitaoka says before digging into the variety of curry his assistant had cooked for him, preparing himself to get back to working on what he promised to be his last big case.
Asakura Takeshi received the most media coverage out of any other criminal of the new century, his eccentrics in court and remorseless smiles whenever the media caught him on tape, fear and fascination making the mass murderer well-known throughout the country.
He was the ideal client for Kitaoka. A case many claimed impossible to defend, a client no newspaper would ever keep quiet about.
And then there was the strange connection Kitaoka felt towards the criminal. Pity, envy, fear, camaraderie. Something told him that he knew his client better than anyone, and that dropping his case would be a major mistake.
Today was going to be the last big trial. Kitaoka takes a deep breath while still sitting in his car, adjusting his hair. "How do I look, Gorou?"
"Perfect, as always." Gorou smiles in the mirror, and Kitaoka replies with one of his own. "Good. The pictures they'll take of me today will find their way into history books for decades to come, after all!"
And he wins. The fact that Asakura would spend his next few years in therapy rather than behind bars meant little to Kitaoka compared to the hundred of journalists and photographers waiting for him outside the courtroom.
Gorou stays by his side as he answers the media's questions, making sure the cameras don't come too close, pushing aside the people who aggressively shouted at Kitaoka for letting a mass murderer walk free.
Kitaoka closes his last case two weeks later, yet another success on his hands.
Gorou places a fresh cup of coffee on his desk, ready to go back to his duties when Kitaoka breaks the silence. "My dear Gorou. Are there any countries you dream of visiting?"
"Any location in the world would seem like a dream if I were there with you." Kitaoka bursts out laughing at Gorou's typical unintentional cheesiness, taking a sip from his mug when his laughter turns into a flattered smile.
"How about the Maldives, then? The beaches seem beautiful, and their food might even rival yours, Gorou." His assistant simply smiles, and Kitaoka could swear he saw his cheeks get rosier.
Gorou walks towards the desk to pick up the empty mug, but Kitaoka grabs his hands instead. Constantly surprised by how soft and dainty the man's fingers were, Kitaoka brings them to his lips, a light and loving kiss placed on them before looking back up towards the one he wanted to spend the last few weeks of his life with.
"Let's go. Together. Tonight."
Kitaoka has stopped counting the days now. His watch had been set aside, sleeping only when his body asked for it, eating five meals a day, drinking first thing in the morning. He wanted to enjoy each second of his life fully, no worries or regrets associated to the knowledge that each breath he draws might be his last.
White sand warm against their bare feet, blue waves pushing their bodies close, vibrant sea life swimming by their side, gentle hands massaging sun screen onto his shoulders, a kiss shared while sunbathing on a rock.
Flavorful meals made out of the most fresh of seafood inspire them to visit the markets themselves, Kitaoka buying any ingredient Gorou required to make his own versions back at the hotel.
Quiet naps shared in the middle of the day, Gorou holding Kitaoka closer and tighter than he could ever remember, evening massages turning into nights of passion, Kitaoka inviting his beloved to do things they never tried before.
A beach quieter than any other, stars reflected on the water surface their only witnesses as Kitaoka sits on the sand, pulling on Gorou's fingers so that his assistant sits next to him before intertwining their hands.
Kitaoka moves his free hand to Gorou's temple, fingers brushing hair aside while taking in every detail of his beloved's features. Gorou leans forward to kiss him, gentle as always, tightening his hold on Kitaoka's hand while his other caresses the lawyer's nape.
It's only after several minutes of affections that Kitaoka dares talk, his honest emotions challenging his usual overly confident demeanor. "Gorou... I want you to be happy. I want you to keep enjoying your work, and I want you to keep smiling. Even if it's for someone else, I won't mind."
Gorou opens his mouth to object, but Kitaoka stops him with a light kiss before continuing. "I don't want you to be held back from happiness because of me. However..."
Kitaoka digs into his shirt's pocket, a small piece of jewelry in the palm of his hand. "Regardless of how selfish of a request this is... I would ask you to never forget about me."
The ring is light, a fine band of gold decorated with the purest of diamonds and two small emeralds, a delicate ring to complement the dainty hands Kitaoka loved so.
Kitaoka looks up from his palm, slightly distressed to find Gorou crying in front of him, his assistant completely silent as a flow of tears pour out of his reddened eyes.
Kitaoka stifles a laugh before hugging Gorou tightly, chuckling as he rubs his back in the least awkward attempt at comfort he's ever managed to display.
They stay like this for a few minutes, Gorou smiling despite watering eyes when he finally pulls away. "Even if you hadn't asked... I could never forget the way I feel about you. I promise this."
Kitaoka chuckles in uncharacteristic embarrassment, kissing Gorou's hand before slipping the band onto his ring finger.
"Good. Someone is going to have to correct whoever doesn't portray me in all of my grandeur, after all!" The both of them laugh, Gorou pushing Kitaoka down on his back before covering him in kisses.
The gentle rocking of waves hitting their boat lulls Kitaoka into a state of daydreaming, comfortably resting under the warmth of the sun.
He remembers his family, his studies, the early days of his career, all the struggles he went through and all the questionable decisions he made to get to where he was now.
Memories of his failures are vague and vastly outnumbered by all of his victories, nothing but satisfaction in his heart as he recalls all of the attention and coverage he received from his last big successful trial.
Asakura. He thinks of him and there's streaks of purple, metal ringing against his ears, an array of gunshots. Blood, death, fire, mirrors.
He remembers other people then, a journalist he missed a date with, a boy with long hair and a ridiculous smile besides a pool. An unfashionable brat who couldn't make friends, a girl in a cap, a fortune teller so gentle and kind. A bunch of other kids who never should've been involved in a war.
They're safe now.
He can't move his hands anymore, and his eyes refuse to open when Gorou calls out to him, his voice barely a whisper to Kitaoka's buzzing ears. All he can feel is the soft hand caressing his cheek and an overwhelming feeling of affection.
Kitaoka smiles as everything grows quiet.