Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Good evening, Mister Nelson.” Otomo’s familiar voice says as Foggy stares at the slowly spinning man.

“Good…evening. Um…” Foggy glances up towards the second person in this little scene he is interrupting, unsure exactly how to interpret what he has just stumbled upon. “Spider-Woman…Is there a reason you have Matt Murdock’s chauffeur strung up like a piñata?” He asks as the bound man’s body makes another slow rotation.

“Because he’s a secret ninja?” Spider-Woman offers which…Foggy has no idea what to do with.

“I’m pretty sure that’s profiling or something.” Foggy says as he eyes Otomo who, even upside down, is looking just as calm and collected as ever. His complete unflappability is something that Foggy has always appreciated in the face of Matt’s…Mattness.

“He’s got knives. The ninja kind. You can check.” Spider-Woman offers. Foggy isn’t completely sure how he is supposed to do that with how much webbing is on the man, but he isn’t exactly in the mood to do a vigilante supervised strip-search anyway.

“Like this one?” Foggy says instead as he pulls up one of his pant legs to show off the small knife holster he has strapped there. He reaches down and pulls the knife free. He isn’t exactly sure what Spider-Woman means by ‘the ninja kind’ but the one that slips cleanly out of his holster is ornate, almost decorative, but thankfully fully functional. With a sigh of resignation Foggy moves to start cutting Otomo free.

“Why do you have that?” Spider-Woman asks, she’s gone a little tense which puts Foggy on edge. He really hopes she isn’t about to attack him for helping release her captive.

“Because we live in New York? I think you, of all people, should know how dangerous that can be.” Foggy offers as he starts to cut at the webbing. He feels like that should be obvious. He doesn’t mention that it was a gift from Matt, nor the fact that he has never actually used it for anything besides cutting off the little shrink wrapped plastic around the tops of his antacid bottles. “What were you even trying to accomplish here anyway?” He presses, hoping that if he starts to ask questions then she will ask him less.

He doesn’t get an answer and, when he looks up, Spider-Woman has vanished. “Guess I scared her off.” He mumbles to himself before turning to continue cutting Otomo free.

Only the man is already free. Well. Kind of. He’s still covered in webbing and one of his arms is trapped awkwardly to his side, but he is standing instead of hanging upside down and his free hand is lightly brushing at his pants, obviously trying to get some of the webbing still there off with very little success. “Hu…” Foggy mumbles, it seems his knife worked better than expected.

Otomo looks up at him after a moment of Foggy just standing there. He seems surprised that Foggy wasn’t leaving and, after a moment, he bows. “Thank you for your assistance, Mister Nelson.” He intones formally before he straightens back up like that’s supposed to be it. Foggy thinks maybe he should let that be it but…

“You want to come back to my place to clean up?” He offers as he watches the man blink slowly at him, “I’m, um, not too far. Which…you already know. Obviously. Since you’ve driven me home before—“ he’s letting his mouth run ahead of himself now that the small amount of adrenaline he felt during this mini-stand off has started to run its course. He forces his mouth shut and swallows. Letting his brain catch up. “Which is to say: these streets are obviously dangerous right now and I’ve got an in-unit washing machine and a shower.”

Otomo’s changes in expression are always very subtle and Foggy doesn’t really know the man well enough to always catch them, but this time he manages to see the thoughtful downturn of his lips and the slight glance he sends upward before he replies. “Your hospitality is appreciated, Mister Nelson.” Foggy manages a smile at that, although it’s probably a little strained, and leads the way back to his apartment.

————

Master Murdock’s… ‘companion’ is as accommodating as Otomo expects given the few instances that he has been around to observe Murdock and Nelson’s more…friendly interactions. He is as talkative as he has always seemed, filling the air with inane chatter with no real meaning or purpose behind it, even after they enter into his apartment and he starts bustling around. Otomo watches in silence as the man keeps talking as he moves to the large floor-to-ceiling windows — they would have looked magnificent in a higher-end apartment but here just look out of place — and pulls the curtains over them shut, one after the other. It isn’t until he’s done that he finally goes quiet. For a moment at least.

“Right.” He says, more to himself than Otomo. “Right. Well. Uh.” He turns back to him and Otomo watches the DA’s eyes slowly look him up and down. “You’re shorter than Matt, but about the same size, so I should have something I can lend you until we’ve got your clothes clean.” He tells him as he moves towards the single bedroom. Otomo can hear the man pulling open some kind of drawer before he starts rummaging as he keeps talking. “I keep a number of sweats in Matt’s size for when he drops by and I’m sure I’ve got an unused pair somewhere— ahha!” He says and Otomo gets to the bedroom door just in time to see the DA pull out a pair of sweatpants, which do look new, before he starts digging for something else. Otomo watches in continued silence as the man mumbles to himself, his face slowly scrunching in concentration as he pulls out shirt after shirt and tosses each away in turn. It’s an absolute mess by the time Mister Nelson sits back on his heels in obvious perturbation. 

“Okay so a shirt in your size is a no-go but I can grab you one of mine instead.” He says as he stands, his back popping as he does, “you’re going to be swimming in it but it’s better than the blood-stained ones Matt has to offer.”

“I do not require a shirt.” Otomo assures him, still standing at the door to the bedroom. While it's not ideal given his scars, he isn’t a stranger to walking around without cover, and he’s pretty certain that Mister Nelson is decently acquainted with the scars that Master Murdock himself displays.

He watches as a blush slowly starts to come over Nelson’s face at the offer before the other man clears his throat. “Um. Sure. Whatever works for you I’ll just…leave some options out…”

Mister Nelson’s bathroom is attached to the single bedroom and he takes a moment to show Otomo how to work the shower before he heads out with a ‘just throw your clothes out the door before you jump in and I’ll put them in the wash!’ Which Otomo does easily enough. 

He showers as efficiently as ever, getting the webbing out of his skin with quick and easy strokes. He notes the fact that Master Murdock’s preferred bathing supplies are here alongside what must be Mister Nelson’s. It’s easy to decide to go with Master Murdock’s selection, knowing full well the likely consequences of choosing otherwise. 

He exits the shower and grabs the towels that had been set out, drying off before donning the offered sweatpants. They are soft and warm and likely expensive given that they were supposed to be Master Murdock’s as well. Otomo doesn’t let himself worry too much about that fact as he leans down to roll up the bottom of the pants to keep them from dragging on the floor.

Which just leaves the shirt.

Otomo looks down at the shirts that Nelson has laid out for him, contemplating each one. He is well aware of just how possessive Master Murdock is of ‘Foggy’ Nelson, and he is also aware of just how sensitive the man’s nose is too. He is likely already playing with fire by being inside Nelson’s apartment, much less his bedroom, so, after some careful consideration, he simply finishes tying the sweatpants around his hips and exits the bedroom shirtless and barefoot.

He finds Mister Nelson standing in his kitchen, the sink running as he purses his lips in annoyance. 

“Is something the matter?” Otomo asks and watches as the DA startles. Something metallic hits the sink right before Foggy’s hand fly’s up and he presses his finger into his mouth. It takes a second for Otomo to realize that the man has cut himself. He moves over to him, a little too fast it seems as the man startles again, even as Otomo pulls the finger away from the other man’s mouth. It’s left a bloody stripe against his bottom lip but the cut itself is, thankfully, shallow. It beads with a few more drops of blood but it’s far from needing stitches so Otomo simply reaches for—

He pauses as he remembers he has none of his supplies on hand. He had left everything neatly hidden in the DA’s bathroom before he had handed over his clothes for washing.

A drop of blood slowly runs down the DA’s finger and onto his own hand.

“I’ve, um…got band aids in the bathroom…” the man offers, his face red as his eyes keep darting around anywhere but at him. Otomo slowly nods. He’s only just realizing how much he has crowded into the other man’s space. He takes a careful step back. 

“I will retrieve them.” He offers with a nod before turning to do just that.

When he returns Foggy once more has his cut finger pressed between his lips and Otomo makes sure he is a little more tactful as he helps to bandage the injury. As he does so his eyes move to the object that caused the injury in the first place: the ornate knife sitting in the sink. It glistens in the harsh light of the kitchen, deceptively beautiful for its sharpness. 

“I think I ruined it.” Foggy says after a moment, sounding dejected as Otomo looks at him — Otomo is once again standing too close and he is starting to realize that maybe Master Murdock isn’t at fault for the way he constantly crowds into this man’s space. It’s like the other man has a magnet in him — “I can’t get the webbing off. Matt’s going to kill me. He was really intense about giving me that knife.”

‘For good reason’ Otomo thinks but doesn’t say. Mister Nelson’s obliviousness to the knife’s meaning is hardly his problem.

“I don’t get it.” Foggy goes on, ever the talker. “This stuff always washes off no-problem in the washing machine. I don’t get why dish soap isn’t working.”

Otomo knows the answer to that. Spider-Woman’s web fluid reacts differently to metal compared to fabric. He doesn’t say that out loud either, for the same reason they both don’t acknowledge why Mister Nelson knows how easy it is to get Spider-Woman’s webbing out of clothes. Instead he takes a step back and tilts his head towards the sink. “If you wish, I can give it a try. I may have better luck with other detergents such as the shampoo in your shower.” He offers. Of course he won’t be using the shampoo. He has a special chemical in his supply that is meant to counteract Spider-Woman’s webbing after all, but Mister Nelson doesn’t need to know that either.

Foggy looks up at him at the offer, his eyes looking genuinely hopeful. “Will you? I just don’t want to have to throw it out.”

“You won’t.” Otomo assures him as he reaches around the other man for the knife. “I will be right back.”

“Hey! You want something to drink?” Foggy calls after him as he makes his way back to the bedroom for the third time that night. “I’ve got beer, coffee, tea, I could even open a bottle of wine—“

“Tea would be welcome.” Otomo offers before leaving the man behind. He really should leave, insist that he can come pick up his clothing at a later date. That would be the smartest thing to do after all…

When he returns, knife good as new in his hands, Foggy has just finished pouring out two cups of green tea. He approaches the kitchen once more, this time keeping the island between them, as Foggy scoots over a mug towards him.

“Here you go, buddy. Tea at two-o-clock.” Foggy tells him as he taps the rim of the cup. Otomo stares at it before his eyes slowly move up to Nelson’s. They look at each other for a long moment as the other man’s cheeks slowly redden. Nelson looks away first, breaking eye contact. “Sorry. Habit. Matt’s the only person I ever serve tea to.” 

“I see,” Otomo says before carefully placing the DA’s knife onto the counter. “Your knife, Mister Nelson, good as new.”

He watches as Foggy lights up at that, his hand (the bandaged one) reaching out for the hilt again. “You’re a miracle worker!” He praises as he turns it over in his hands. “Not that I didn’t know that already, given that you put up with Matt every day.” He jokes and Otomo feels the corner of his mouth twitch. He takes a drink of his tea to hide it. Foggy lets out an awkward giggle in response, maybe thinking his joke had fallen flat, before he turns away and bent over to return the knife to its holster.

“Soooo, you, um, went the no shirt route I see.” Foggy comments and Otomo watches as the man visibly cringes at his own words. It’s oddly fascinating just how awkward this man truly is in private, given just how terrifying he can be in a courtroom (a setting that Otomo has seen the man in far more than this one). The dichotomy is almost mesmerizing. 

“I did mention that I didn’t need one.” He comments in return and watches as Foggy’s adam’s apple bobs in a nervous swallow. “But if it will make you feel better I can go retrieve a shirt.”

He watches as Foggy’s eyes dart down to his chest, sees them trace over the worst of his scars, before they dart back up again to catch his own, that blush from before back with a vengeance. “No! No, it’s fine! It’s fine! Whatever you are comfortable with—“

The washing machine goes off with a sickly kind of ‘beep’. It’s just loud enough to make Foggy jump and quickly push past Otomo towards the closet that holds the appliances. “I’ll just get those.” he’s already insisting, filling the room again with nervous chatter as he does. Otomo watches as he pulls the suit out and checks the tags, seeing how and if they can be put in the dryer (something Otomo could have easily told him if he had asked) before shoving them in in a skittish kind of motion. It’s…cute.

Foggy Nelson is cute.

Master Murdock is going to kill him.

He sips at his tea, watching as the other man purposefully keeps himself busy, and writes his own obituary in his mind. 

————

It’s past midnight when Otomo finally leaves Mister Nelson’s apartment (‘It’s Foggy when I’m home, it’s a rule,’ he had insisted but that had felt a little too dangerous with everything else.) and Master Murdock is already on the roof waiting for him.

“Care to explain what I just witnessed?” Matt demands of him. He is tense, angry, but Otomo’s head is still on his shoulders so he is taking that as a good sign.

“There were some complications with Spider-Woman tonight.” He offers, “Mister Nelson simply stepped in to…offer his assistance.”

“By having dinner with him?” Matt hisses out, his teeth bared in a snarl. Otomo, perhaps contrary to the threat Master Murdock is currently posing, feels himself relax slightly. He had already been re-dressed by the time Mister Nelson had insisted he stay for dinner . (‘It’s late and I’m hungry anyway so you might as well stick around’).

“I felt it necessary to ensure Spider-Woman didn’t decide to pay Mister Nelson a visit after his interference.” He offers, using all of his training to ensure his heart beat ‘true’. “He is also a very difficult man to say ‘no’ to.” He adds, just in case.

He watches as Master Murdock’s face twists in annoyance, his hand tightening and twisting on his cane-sword, obviously wishing to draw it. After a moment however his expression settles out. Still pinched and annoyed but no longer looking like he is about to kill Otomo where he stands.

“ Don’t let this happen again.” Murdock snarls at him before vanishing, likely to Foggy’s apartment, and Otomo doesn’t let himself sigh in relief. He isn’t out of the fire just yet. 

After all, he had already agreed to join  Mister Nelson for dinner again next week.

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Master Murdock’s silence had been deafening after he had left Mister Nelson’s apartment that morning. Otomo had expected something from his slip up that night, but instead Master Murdock had simply ignored him as he slipped into the backseat of his car. Again the car ride had been silent, something that was, in truth, a rarity for his Master as the man liked to talk about his plans at length when he had a captive audience. Otomo wonders if the man is waiting for him to bring up the topic. But if his Master will not do it then neither will he. 

However, the continued silence on the topic of Foggy Nelson is…worrying. If he wasn’t so well trained, it might actually start to get to him. As it is he knows there is nothing he can say or do to change his Master’s ultimate choice on what Otomo’s fate will be. Instead, he meditates a little as the morning turns late and then decides to get his effects in order.

One such effect being his promise to Mister Nelson. 

He has the day off to ‘recover’ — an order that was delivered to him via an underling rather than Master Murdock himself. A bad sign — and, while it was a deadly choice to make, he has already crossed a line he could not step back from so he might as well make sure he didn’t die in dishonor.

———

“Just a second!” Mister Nelson calls out from within his apartment. It was mid-afternoon by the time Otomo had made his way over, and he was thankful that the man was home to receive him. Otomo waits patiently as he hears the locks on the door slide open and then Mister Nelson is looking out at him—

“Holy shit! What happened?!” Is the first thing out of the other man’s mouth and Otomo blinks, unsure if that’s a real question or not. The man had been present the night before. He knows exactly what happened.

Before he can decide if he should answer or not, Mister Nelson is grabbing his arm and dragging him through the door. “don’t answer that. It was rhetorical or something. I don’t know.” Otomo forces back a smile as he watches the man fuss with closing and locking the door again — An event he hadn’t actually planned for. This was meant to be a quick drop-off job — Mister Nelson is starting up that rambling he always seems to do when he is nervous. It’s endearing. It’s also one of the reasons Otomo’s life is currently hanging in the balance and one of the reasons he should make this visit quick.

“Ignore all that.” Mister Nelson insists as he pulls Otomo along to the living room and forces him down onto the couch. “Are you okay?” 

Otomo feels his heart flutter at the question, the treacherous thing. It’s been acting up since seeing Mister Nelson on that platform yesterday. If Master Murdock doesn’t cut it out then he will have to do it himself. He’s going to need to start practicing ‘perfect control’ every day just to keep these reactions down. “I am fine, Mister Nelson. My injuries are mostly superficial.”

“Mostly.” The other man squeaks out, his eyes roaming over Otomo’s body. Otomo doesn’t feel self conscious about it but he feels something that he is having less trouble than he would like in naming. He cannot let his mind go down those paths. Not with this man. “I can see bandages peeking out of every edge of your turtle neck man! You want to tell me which isn’t superficial?!”

Otomo considers how to answer. None of his injuries were deadly, the worst being a few of the deeper cuts and a few broken bones, so he decides to answer in a way he thinks the other man will appreciate, that is, if he has read him right. 

“The three broken ribs.” Otomo deadpans and watches as the other man’s expression pauses. Twists with annoyance, and then twitches into laughter. It’s just a chuckle and Otomo can tell the man is annoyed at himself for giving in, but Otomo lets himself smile in return at his success.

“Damn it. You idiots.” Foggy grumbles but it’s a fond thing. Otomo’s heart responds again and he forces himself to breathe. To exude control.

“I did not mean to cause you distress.” Otomo offers once he is certain he can. Mister Nelson snorts and rolls his eyes. 

“I’m rolling my eyes at you, which I know you can see, I'm just emphasizing the point.” He insists, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what did you plan to cause me?” 

Otomo hates to admit it, but he fidgets at the intense scrutiny from the other man’s gaze and he can feel his face heating slightly. He imagines this must be how a witness feels during a cross examination by the man. In response he holds up the tupperware container in his hands. “I believe I promised you miso dengaku, Mister Nelson. As Master Murdock has given me the day off to…recover I thought I would take the time to fulfill my word to you.”

Mister Nelson stares at him for a very long moment. Otomo lowers the tupperware.

“I’m sorry, Matt gave you a single day off? He is supposed to be taking at least a few days for himself! He promised me! And he only gave you one?!” If Otomo is being truthful he actually thinks the ‘day off’ is more Master Murdock not wanting to see him and less concern for his health, but he doesn’t mention that.

“Master Murdock did take the brunt of the—“

“Accident. Car accident. Right, Otomo?”

“…Of course Mister Nelson.” he acquiesces and watches as the man runs a hand down his face in obvious familiar exasperation. 

“Alright, strip.” Mister Nelson orders and Otomo blinks up at him. 

“Mister Nelson, I do not think—“

“Nu-uh.” Mister Nelson instantly shuts him up. “If it makes your sensibilities feel better then just think of it as you getting comfortable. After all, you have been shirtless here before, right?”

Otomo considers this argument for a moment. He continues to be surprised by this side of Mister Nelson. He has observed it a few times in regards to Master Murdock’s injuries, but it is far more intense when he is the target of it. It is no surprise, then, that Master Murdock simply lets Mister Nelson care for him when the Hand’s rules demand otherwise.

He finally agreed with a nod and puts the tupperware aside to ‘strip’. He hears Mister Nelson’s breath hitch before he has even managed to pull his shirt fully off and hopes that he hasn’t bled too heavily through any of his bandages. He has already upset the man enough.

“Well, I guess you don’t look half as bad as Matt did.” Foggy allows once Otomo’s shirt is finally off, revealing the patchwork of bandages he had applied the night before. “Although I can’t tell if that’s because you are already bandaged up or not.” He sighs. “Alright. I’ll only ask this once because I know the rules but: Is there anywhere that needs bandaging or stitching that you couldn’t get to on your own.”

Otomo hesitates a moment at that question — really he shouldn’t keep being surprised by just how much this man knows — before he shakes his head. “No Mister Nelson.”

“I told you, it’s Foggy when I’m home, and especially when I am reprimanding you for being reckless.” he pauses then, his anger melting into raw worry as his eyes trail over Otomo’s chest. “How many of these were because of me?” He finally asks, so softly that Otomo barely picks it up (he wonders if it is the tone that Mister Nelson uses when Master Murdock is injured to keep from hurting him further). He imagines it must be.

“Very few of them were from me escorting you from the scene.” Otomo offers in reassurance, although Mister Nelson still looks skeptical. “I promise you, M….” He trails off, reluctant to use the other man’s name, It…feels too intimate, but also not wanting to go against the direct request to not call him ‘Mister Nelson’ while in his home.

Still, his words seem to be enough as he watches the man’s shoulders slump, not in relief, but in resignation. “All right. All right, I believe you. But I am still going to call Matt and demand you get more time off. Later though.” He quickly adds before Otomo can insist otherwise, his hand held up to stop Otomo’s protests. “Now, tell me again what you brought?” 

Otomo grabs the tupperware and once more holds it out. “Miso dengaku. As promised.” 

———

“Have you ever made mochi before?” Mister Nelson asks as they stand around his kitchen island eating skewers of the marinated and grilled tofu. Otomo had planned on simply leaving the Tupperware with the man but Mister Nelson had insisted he stick around and ‘share’. Otomo was happy to let Mister Nelson have the lion's share of the food, seeing as he had made it for him. Still, he did take a few skewers for himself just to make the other man happy.

“A few times, yes.” Otomo nods. He was thankful that the other man seemed to be enjoying the meal and had seemed to take an interest in finding out what other foods Otomo could make. It was a safe conversation topic. “I broke three fingers on my first attempt.”

The other man pauses with his latest skewer in his mouth, his eyes wide for reasons Otomo can’t fathom. “I’m sorry, what?!” He finally asks after he swallows. 

“Mochi is made, traditionally, by pounding short-grain rice with a mallet known as a kine. If one is not fast enough when turning the mochi it is possible to get hit.” He explains which does seem to alleviate some of the man’s worry. Otomo decides to explain further. “The incident was my fault, of course, I was out of sync with my partner and they caught my hand with the kine. However, I managed to work through the pain and was successful in learning the integral lesson I was being taught.” He assures the other man. He had been quite proud of himself that day.

“And, uh, what lesson was that?” Mister Nelson asks, his expression oddly careful for such a light topic

“To be out of sync with the greater goal of the clan is to injure oneself.” Otomo offers up easily enough. It is, after all, one of the core tenets of the Hand.

Foggy lets out a nervous kind of laugh at that which seems like an odd response. Otomo furrows his brows at it, wondering if he has misstepped somewhere. “Right. Ya. That’s a perfectly reasonable lesson.” The other man offers in that still slightly off tone. “So, um…how old were you exactly when this happened?”

Otomo is hesitant to answer given Mister Nelson’s response to this information so far but, after a moment, he replies. “Three. It was early on in my training.”

“Three?!” Comes the squeaked out response and Otomo is surprised to see the skewer — empty thankfully — in Mister Nelson’s hand snap in half.

“Is there something wrong?” Otomo finally just asks. He had assumed, given everything else that the other man knew, that such mundane childhood stories wouldn’t have caused quite a stir.

“No. No. It’s…it’s fine.” Mister Nelson assures him, quickly busying himself with throwing away the broken skewer. “Just, you know, different childhoods. Really different childhoods. I didn’t get my first broken finger until I was five! Which—why did I say that? You don’t need to know that. God I’m rambling again. Sticking my foot in my mouth—“ Otomo watches as the man went on, his face slowly turning redder and redder until he grabbed another skewer and shoved it in his mouth to stop his rambling. It was cute.

Otomo studiously controls his heart's reaction as he takes his own final bite of his dengaku.

“Have you had mochi?” Otomo asks, throwing both of them a bone to get out of where this conversation has unexpectedly gone. He watches as the other man shoots him a thankful look as he finally swallows the bite he had been using to shut himself up.

Cute was, perhaps, the wrong word but Otomo didn’t let himself explore that thought too deeply.

“I’ve had the ice cream kind.” The other man offers, “I don’t know how authentic that is, but it’s pretty good.”

Otomo blinks at that, trying to picture the confection Mister Nelson was talking about and coming up blank. “I’ve never had something like that. Red bean paste is traditional although I have had ones with a full strawberry inside as well.” 

“Really? Well, the Asian market not too far from here has some, if you are interested?” The other man offers, his expression lighting up once more, “might be a good post-tofu treat.” He offers like he is attempting to tempt Otomo into agreeing. It’s not something he has to work too hard at.

“As I said, I have the day off. I see no reason not to try.” He agrees with a nod and watches as the other man smiles happily.

“You are in for a treat, mi amigo!” Mister Nelson declares as he moves around the kitchen counter to grab Otomo’s arm. “Come on, I’ll lead.”

———

The Asian market was more a bodega that just happened to sell asian goods than a proper ‘market’ but Otomo was familiar enough with these kinds of places, including this particular store, that he knew what to expect when entering. He nods a small greeting to the store clerk, an older Chinese woman who he has conversed with a few times when coming here for small things. She, in turn, gives him a small nod and raises an eyebrow as she tilts her head towards Mister Nelson who is filling the air with idle chatter. She looks a little surprised by his company but, thankfully, makes no comment as Mister Nelson notices her attention and waves a hand.

“Hey Mrs. Lin! We’re just dropping in for some mochi ice cream, we’ll be out of your hair in no time!”

She waves at Foggy, but it is Otomo that she addresses with a teasing lilt to her mandarin. “Gǎnjué dàfǔ bīngqílín bú tài xiàng nǐ huì xǐhuan de lèixíng ne.”

“Gǎnxiè nín de guānxīn. Qíshí wǒ hái méi chángshì guò dàfǔ bīngqílín, dàn wǒ de lǚbàn jílì tuījiàn, suǒyǐ juédìng lái tǐyàn kànkan.” Otomo replies formally which has the woman laughing lightly as she waves a hand at them. “Go. go.” She finally addresses Mister Nelson, “I suggest the matcha flavor for this one.”

Mister Nelson smiles and shoots the woman a thumbs up before pulling him towards the back display freezers. It’s a part of the store that Otomo doesn’t usually find himself seeing as, the few moments he has time to cook, he prefers to do so with fresh food. The freezer section is mostly lined with boxes of different products from all over the Asian continent including a large selection of dumplings, bao, meatballs, rice cakes, frozen vegetables, and, of course, the ‘mochi ice cream’ that Mister Nelson had mentioned. 

He isn’t actually sure what he is expecting but the individually wrapped ice creams looked similar, if slightly bigger, than the more traditional daifuku mochi he was familiar with. He catches the one tossed at him by Mister Nelson and Otomo is a little disappointed when the plastic wrapping declares ‘Mochi Bubble: Premium Matcha Green Tea Ice Cream wrapped in Mochi!’ In English without a single Japanese kanji in sight. Still, given the content, he has to imagine this is likely an American invention anyway. 

“Let me know if you want something besides matcha. I’m grabbing pistachio for myself but they also have strawberry, mango, ube, and, uh….cookies and cream?”

“If you’re buying for everyone, Mister Nelson, I’ll have the strawberry.” Miss Stacy comments from the end of the aisle, causing Mister Nelson to jump and drop the ice cream he was digging through with a curse. Miss Stacy lets out a small laugh, barely there, as she approaches. Otomo turns his attention towards the girl. She is fully ‘Gwen Stacy’ right now, no sign of her Spider-Woman getup in sight. Her presence here is unexpected, unwelcome, and poses an issue, hero-outfit or not. It has reminded Otomo of something very important. Mainly that his visit to Mister Nelson was meant to be short. 

“Gwen? What are you doing here?” Mister Nelson asks, surprised by the young woman’s appearance.

“Obviously I came for the free ice cream.” She comments as she waves her hand at the freezer, “and maybe to also, you know, see how you were doing. Dad said you got caught in that subway mess yesterday. Nasty business, Mister Nelson.”

Both Otomo and Foggy pause at that last part, likely for the exact same reason. Miss Stacy had, momentarily, sounded very much like Master Murdock with her words. A fact that spoke volumes for how much time the girl was (forced) to spend in his Master’s presence. It almost sounds like she was getting ready to extort them. Something, Otomo is realizing, she very well could do if neither of them want this little outing to get back to Master Murdock. Not that he thought it would actually do much good. Matthew Murdock is a difficult man to keep a secret from. He doubts this ‘outing’ will go unknown for long. Still, ‘Gwen Stacy’ is truly becoming troublesome for him if she is going to keep showing up at these inconvenient times. 

“Dang it, I forgot I told your dad I would give him a call this morning to let him know I was okay.” Foggy says as he runs his hand down his face. “I hope he didn’t just send you all this way to Hell’s Kitchen to check on me. I have a phone, you know.” He says and Miss Stacy shrugs.

“He might have mentioned it, but I don’t mind, it’s good to get out, you know. Speaking of ‘out,’” she turns towards Otomo and gives him an unimpressed look. “Can’t say I expected to catch you on a date, Mister Nelson, and with Murderdock’s chauffeur no less.”

Otomo blinks at that and feels mortification pushing its way through the control he has been forcing over his body most of the day, a feeling that Mister Nelson must share as he lets out a squeaked “Date?! That’s— it’s not— that’s a complete misreading— I’m sorry, did you just call him Murderdock?” He finishes as if his brain had finally caught up with her words.

They all freeze, Otomo because he knows this situation can go bad on a dime and he needs to be ready to do damage control, and Miss Stacy and Mister Nelson — DA Nelson — as they both seem to realize their misstep at the exact same moment. Otomo watches as they meet each other's gaze in panicked calculation. Then—

“Anyway, Gwen, you said you wanted the strawberry? I guess I can treat you since you came all this way to check on me.” Mister Nelson transitions immediately, his voice a little higher than normal as he digs through the freezer again. He’s choosing to ignore the slip up (like he seems to do for a lot of things in his life) it’s up to Miss Stacy then to take the out. 

“Actually Mister Nelson, I should probably run, but you and Otomo have fun on your date!” She calls as she makes a fast retreat down the aisle.

“It’s not a— don’t let people hear you say that!” He calls after her as Otomo watches her leave. “Really hope Matt isn’t close by.” Mister Nelson grumbles as Otomo turns back towards him. He can’t help but return the sentiment.

———

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Foggy asks unexpectedly. They had taken their ice cream down to Pier 84 at Mister Nelson’s insistence and, while Otomo knew he really should start putting up an objection, he simply let the man drag him to the next location. “I almost completely forgot you’re cut up like Swiss cheese right now. Matt would have been whining ages ago.” Mister Nelson comments as he polishes off the last of his mochi. Mister Nelson’s words offer an interesting tidbit of information about his Master that he personally has never witnessed. Otomo has to assume this ‘whining’ is some kind of act that Master Murdock puts on in Mister Nelson’s presence. Likely a ruse to get more attention from the other man. Otomo can’t say he understands that particular impulse but he also cannot deny that he has let this man drag him to three distinct locations without objection.

“I am fine, Mister Nelson.” Otomo reassures him as he carefully folds his empty mochi wrapper for disposal later. The treat had been surprisingly good. The mochi softer than he expected given the contents and the ice cream only mildly sweet, offset by the matcha flavor. It’s an indulgence, but one he may allow himself again. “I assure you, my injuries truly are superficial. They are nothing you need to worry about.”

“Even the broken ribs?”

Otomo’s lips twitch in a smile before he remembers he is meant to be maintaining perfect control. Still, he offers up a little teasingly in return, “yes, even those.”

Mister Nelson snorts out a laugh and shakes his head before pulling out his phone. “Still, I promised I would text Matt and demand more days off for you. Let me just—”

Otomo’s hand shoots out and covers Mister Nelson’s own on the phone before he can get so far as even unlocking the device.

“While I appreciate the offer, Mister Nelson, Master Murdock is already displeased with me and I believe such a message is likely to only worsen the situation.” Otomo admits, his hand around the other man’s tightening, just in case, to keep him from doing anything with the device. “One day is more than sufficient for my recovery.”

Nelson looks up at him at that, his eyes catching the reflection of the Hudson in their gaze. Otomo thinks about how many dead bodies lie at the bottom of that river. That he might be soon to join them. He does not think Master Murdock will return him to the hand to be brought back.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Mister Nelson asks. Otomo makes no reply, the answer is obvious enough. After a moment Mister Nelson sighs and loosens his hand on his phone in surrender. Otomo’s loosens in return, relinquishing his hold on the other man’s hand as they both fall into a knowing silence.

“Look.” Mister Nelson eventually starts, his gaze moving away from Otomo and out over the river once more. “I’m not going to pretend to understand all the intricacies of…whatever your lot has going on. And I’m not going to, you know, make you do something that’s going to put you into some kind of danger, but…it’s been a while since I’ve had a real friend besides Matt and…I’ve really enjoyed today so I’m really hoping that this isn’t about to turn into a ‘we can’t see each other again’ talk.”

Otomo thinks that that is exactly what he should be turning this into. An apology and an explanation and a ‘I cannot allow myself to do this again’. Another rejection to keep himself safe. To keep him from Matthew Murdock’s wrath. Only…

Only Master Murdock hasn’t truly done anything to him regarding this. Hasn’t reprimanded him besides to yell at him for not keeping a close enough eye on this man. Hasn’t given him orders regarding this. In fact all his Master has been is silent.

Otomo doesn’t know what the silence means just yet, but right now it isn’t a direct order of ‘no’.

He reaches into his pocket for his wallet and, with only a small moment of hesitation, draws out a sleek black business card.

“What…is this?” Mister Nelson asks as Otomo hands it over to the man.

“My phone number.” He explains, “While I cannot promise that I will always be able to answer, it is, perhaps, better that you have it should you ever find yourself contemplating taking the subways again.”

“So it’s your work phone. Like a ‘call me if you need a chauffeur kind of thing.” And Mister Nelson sounds a little dejected at that. Otomo shifts.

“The phone is also set up to receive texts if…you prefer that mode of contact.” Otomo offers and he is proud when his heart keeps a steady rhythm at the shocked then radiant smile he gets in response.

————

“You are developing a singularly dangerous habit these days, Otomo.” Master Murdock tells him as he stands by his penthouse windows, arms folded behind his back. His pose is oddly relaxed in a way that Otomo hadn’t expected from the man, given the circumstances. It’s disconcerting to feel this off kilter about a man he had thought he knew how to interpret. Then again, he has always struggled with understanding Master Murdock when the subject of Mister Nelson came up.

“No words in your defense?” Master Murdock asks, his head tilting back slightly towards him, listening. Otomo’s heart is steady though. He has had the time to get it under control. At least for now.

“No, Master Murdock.” He answers and watches as the man’s hands tighten at his back, knuckles going white. That’s the tension he had expected. 

“I have a job for you.” Master Murdock goes on, it’s both a change in subject and not. The job and his ‘dangerous habit’ are inexplicably linked, Otomo is sure. “I expect that it will take you a few weeks to complete.”

Otomo bows his head. The last part is an order, not an estimate. This mission will take Otomo a few weeks. It is the longest he has been sent away from Master Murdock’s side since he had been assigned to the man. The Hand is bound to be displeased. But Otomo is loyal and Matthew Murdock is his superior, he will do as he is told. He will simply need to find someone to take over his duties in the meantime.

“As you wish, Master.” He acknowledges before turning to leave.

“Oh, and Otomo?” Master Murdock stops him before he can go, his head still tilted in his direction. “Consider this job and me not simply driving my sword through your chest as my thanks for protecting Mister Nelson yesterday. However, I expect you to get that overactive heart of yours back under control before you return. Am I understood?”

Otomo hesitates, thinking about the number he has just left with Mister Nelson, and bows once more. “Yes, Master Murdock, you are understood.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Chapter Text

The job, it turns out, had come from Master Samura and was, expectantly, months past due for completion. Why their superiors didn’t just contact him first instead of Master Murdock he will never understand, especially given that the man has a habit of ignoring orders anyway. Still, he supposes the job was more busy work than anything else and, while below his own ranking, he has no issue seeing it to completion, especially once he meets the newest trainee that the order pertains to. Otomo is immensely grateful that Master Murdock had sent him to retrieve the boy and had not come himself – or sent another who might not fully understand the risk this boy represents. He does not think the Hand would have survived if his Master had been here and found out what they had done. 

The young man in question bows to him upon their introduction and Otomo immediately notes that the direction is slightly off, like the boy isn’t quite sure where Otomo is, but is making his best estimation. Given what has been explained to him upon his arrival it is expected.

“He is one of few who survived the trials,” he is told by the Hand scientist standing next to him, “and he is the only one who has progressed enough to start proper training. I trust Master Murdock is up to the task?”

Otomo knows he isn’t. Master Murdock is too preoccupied with his individually chosen successor to take on a trainee, much less one like this, but Otomo nods his consent anyway. He will figure it out. That is his job after all. To smooth out the wrinkles of Master Murdock’s rule to make it work for the Hand. This will be no different.

Otomo is left with the child then and, although he is told that the boy is eighteen years of age, he is small in his formal red robes. He keeps his head bowed even after they are left alone but Otomo sees the way the child tenses as he approaches. Perhaps anticipating an attack? It is likely seeing as the boy has, at least, received and passed the earlier training tests with Master Samura. Still, he does well not to react when Otomo stops in front of him. “Head up.” Otomo orders and the boy does not hesitate to do so. He even stays perfectly still when Otomo’s hand wraps around the top of his mask and pulls it away.

Sightless eyes flutter nervously in every direction once they are revealed. Otomo takes in the waxy chemical burns that surround them. The way the path of the chemicals has been smeared across the boy's face, like two hands have reached up and swiped at his eyes, blinding him.

The scars are familiar. Too familiar. And Otomo is very thankful that Master Murdock is not here to witness any of this, even if he, himself, would not have been able to see the extent of this transgression.

————

A text comes through that evening and Otomo hesitates before opening it. It’s a photo along with a message. The photo contains a picture of the outside of Mister Nelson’s apartment. Specifically, the top of the building caddy corner to him where  he can see his Masters form standing menacingly in the late-evening sunset. The text that comes right after reads ‘tell Murdock if he wants something he can come and ask, otherwise he needs to stop scaring the pigeons.’

Otomo isn’t exactly sure what to do with a message like that. In fact, he isn’t all that sure how to text in anything but a formal manner (much less in English). Still, he supposes the answer he should give is obvious.

‘I apologize, Mister Nelson, I am currently away on work. Please reach out to Master Murdock directly if you wish him to stop.’ He types out but hesitates on hitting send. Unsure if that is an appropriate reply. It is hard to tell if Mister Nelson is meaning his words in sincerity or as a joke. If it is meant as a joke then surely Otomo’s response is inappropriate and lacking?

He is used to having to tread carefully with his words, especially around Master Murdock, but this is a singularly difficult task. After a moment more of hesitation he hits send.

He gets a text back in short order.

‘Hopefully it’s the kind of work that has some time for a vacation? Have a few drinks for me buddy.’ Is Mister Nelson’s response. Otomo frowns down at it before looking across the darkened hotel room at the new ‘Trainee’. Mister Samuel Chung is curled up on his side on one of the beds, deep in sleep. It is probably the first true bed the boy has been permitted to sleep in since he got recruited by the Hand Research Facility. The depth of the boy's sleep makes it obvious that his body is taking advantage of that fact. It also, maybe, helps that Otomo has ensured their room is on the highest floor of the hotel and far away from the bustling Shanghai city center. He isn’t sure if Mister Chung’s senses are as advanced as Master Murdock’s, but it felt appropriate to assume as much. 

He hasn’t really planned on where to take the boy after he retrieved him. The Hand simply expected him to return to New York, something they haven’t given him a timeframe for — likely assuming he would return immediately— which thankfully gives him the room to follow his Master’s own orders. Now that Mister Nelson has reminded him of the idea of a ‘vacation’ his next destination seems obvious.

He turns back to the text.

‘I will be gone for a few weeks. However, I have been given the opportunity to briefly return to my home.’ He sends and, after another moment of thought he adds, ‘ while I do not drink, I can bring you back some sake if that is something you would enjoy?’

The next message comes quickly enough. Given the twelve-hour time difference Otomo has to assume that the man is currently relaxing after a long day at work. It is a…soft image, one that Otomo tries not to let himself linger on. ‘Hey! That’s great to hear buddy. And don’t bother yourself if it’s too difficult, but sake would be great.’ 

‘It is no trouble, Mister Nelson. I will deliver it to you upon my return.’ He promises.

He gets a simple ‘thumbs up’ emoji in response and He finds himself having to actively keep from continuing the conversation further. There is nothing more to say on the topic and it would be foolish to inquire on how the man’s day had gone or, worse, to ask for any kind of verification for the image his mind had painted earlier. Mister Nelson’s state of relaxation or dress is of no concern to him. 

He puts his phone away and closes his eyes. Jet lag and the revelations of the day have not let him sleep that night. Perhaps, then, he will let Mister Chung rest a little longer while he attempts to meditate away these images and impulses. 

————

The flight from Shanghai to Osaka is a short one and, while it would be a simple two hour train from there to his clan’s residence in Iga, Otomo makes them walk. He has time to kill and the three-day trek is a good opportunity to study the boy’s balance and ability to map out new locations on his own. He has little issue in the city, although he shows obvious signs of getting overwhelmed as the day goes on, but the forested paths outside of Kizugawa start to cause issues. The uneven earth under his feet causing the child to stumble more than once on their journey. He can read the growing frustration each time it happens, but he makes no comment or reprimand. Right now he is just here to observe. Corrections will be made later.

In the meantime he is a little surprised to be…not inundated with messages from Mister Nelson — there are too few to call it that — but to be receiving them at all. He had, he supposed, only really expected to get texts requesting his presence. He hadn’t actually expected ones just to converse. 

For the most part the messages are simple. Little check-ins really, most of which involve Master Murdock in some way. The most current one comes across as they are setting up camp for the night. It contains a picture of his Master smiling his usual sharp smile with the very familiar background of Marico’s. A date night then, even if Mister Nelson likely doesn’t realize as much. The connected text reads ‘I think Matt’s lonely without you around. This is the second time this week that he has demanded dinner here.’

Otomo is pretty sure it’s not loneliness that is driving such demands, but instead possessiveness. It reminds him that he is supposed to be meditating to work away his own feelings. Still, he replies back with a simple ‘I am certain he is simply enjoying your company, Mister Nelson.’ 

‘Given that he is picking fights I would argue to the contrary.’ Comes the reply and then, a few moments later, ‘But then again this is Matt we are talking about. He lives to be argumentative.’

Otomo isn’t sure what to say to that. He is still having trouble figuring out the tone to use in these messages. Still trying to find the balance. He writes a few options in his mind, but before he can actually send one off, a new text comes through. ‘Now he’s pouting demanding to know who I’m talking to. It’s very cute.’ Mister Nelson adds another picture of Master Murdock pouting just as advertised. He certainly lets himself be vulnerable around the DA in a way that he never is around others. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not telling him it’s you. I get the feeling that wouldn’t go over well.’

‘Your discretion is appreciated.’ Otomo finally manages to text back, that response far easier to put together than one to the prior message.

‘I told him it was DeWolff instead.’ Comes the next response. Otomo absolutely does not laugh, but it is a near thing. Too near. He decides that tonight he will set aside time to properly meditate and work through these impulses that Mister Nelson seems to so easily pull from him. It is, after all, for the best.  

———

His clan's compound is just outside of Iga within the mountainous forests that surround the city. It’s not exactly hidden, but it is certainly off the beaten path. If he was a more emotional man, entering through the front gates embellished with the 月 might be nostalgic. Instead fighting his way in through his own clan members to get into the compound simply feels like protocol.

“You are as skilled as ever.” Master Sanada comments as Otomo takes out the last of his opponents, the woman falling prone to the ground before him. “Your student on the other hand…” the elder trails off, looking past Otomo to where Samuel lies incapacitated among the other bodies Otomo had feld.

“He has just been released from basic training.” Otomo comments, personally having ranked Mister Chung’s fighting abilities as above-average from this display, especially given that he had not given the boy any warning that this would happen. “Our own training has not yet begun.”

“Ah.” Is all Master Sanada says at that information before turning away and walking further into the compound. “Either way, your appearance here is unexpected. You will report to me.” Otomo bows his acknowledgment and leaves both Sam and his fellow clan members to pull themselves back up, as is expected of anyone associated with the Hand.

——— 

‘I need to stop letting Matt sleepover. The man dumped my whole snack drawer before he left this morning.’ Is the message Otomo receives that afternoon as he is helping with the household chores. While ranking somewhat matters in the compound in certain circumstances, household tasks do not apply. Everyone is expected to contribute equally. It is busy work at least, which Otomo appreciates about as much as he appreciates the messages from Mister Nelson. Small distractions to get him through days that would normally be full to the brim with tasks needing completion. Otomo thinks it’s almost ironic then that he is likely being given more time to converse with Mister Nelson now in his exile that he would have had if his Master simply let him stay in New York.

‘Would you like me to bring you some food items when I return?’ He offers as he allows himself a small break from preparing that afternoon's meal. He seems to remember Master Murdock complaining about Mister Nelson’s snacking habits while also feeding said habit by ordering him quite the selection of treats from Japan.

‘I don’t want to be a bother. You already said you would bring me sake.’ The next message comes, reminding Otomo that he does need to ask Master Sanada what sake he would recommend. Otomo might not partake, but that didn’t mean others did not, and Master Sanada was known to have a refined palette. 

‘It is not an imposition, Mister Nelson. I simply wish to know if you would like anything in particular. Otherwise I will simply bring a selection.’ Otomo assures. He doesn’t remember if Mister Nelson ever conveyed a specific preference to Master Murdock, but the man can always request something if he wants it.

‘In that case, a selection sounds great. I would say I owe you, but I really don’t know how I would pay you back.’ Mister Nelson agrees.

‘You need not concern yourself. It requires very little effort on my part.’ Otomo assures him and makes a note to himself to take on the next supply run for the clan so he can do this more personal shopping. 

———

The dining hall is silent as the clan eats (those that are able to attend at least) and Otomo watches as Mister Chung picks up his shibazuke. The child chokes on his bite almost immediately and starts heaving and coughing. It is too late of course, the poison is fast acting and only requires a passing of the lips to take hold. 

No one else in the room makes a move to react as Mister Chung struggles, simply continuing their own meal. Otomo silently pulls out the antidote which he forces down the struggling boy's throat while holding his neck steady in a tight grip. It takes a moment for Sam’s breathing to recover and even longer for him to stop dry heaving once Otomo has released him. He simply waits for the episode to pass before addressing the boy. 

“I suggest you take a moment to familiarize yourself with the scent of this poison, child, so this doesn’t happen again.” he tells him as he reaches out to grab the small bowl containing the poisoned shibazuke and places it directly into the boy's hands. 

“Y-yes Master Otomo, sir.” Mister Chung says around a still choked voice. Otomo finishes off his own meal while keeping a close eye on the child, just in case. He will introduce a different poison to Samuel tomorrow and, hopefully, he will catch it before he ingests it.

———

‘Matt’s been hovering in my office like a poltergeist today’ Mister Nelson texts with an attached picture of Master Murdock looking agitated in a corner of the man’s shoddy office. It has only been a week since Otomo has left and he really hopes his Master isn’t shrinking his duties to haunt Mister Nelson’s steps.

‘I hope he isn’t causing you distress, Mister Nelson.’ He texts back.

‘No more than the usual anxiety when he decides to pull this. If it becomes an issue I’ll spray him with a spray bottle.’

Otomo looks at that message and a smile tries to make its way to his face. It is inappropriate to laugh at one’s superior but… 

‘I believe perfume would be more effective, Mister Nelson, if you are trying to drive the man away.’

He gets a laughing emoji for his boldness and a ‘I’ll invest in some next time I get the chance.’ 

A few hours later he gets another photo, this time of a bottle of perfume sitting in the middle of Mister Nelson’s paper covered desk. ‘I take it this is from you?’

‘Consider it compensation, Mister Nelson, for the anxiety Master Murdock causes you.’ He replies, a confirmation enough.

‘Inventive by Mayor. You are a villainous man, this is DeWolff’s perfume isn’t it?’ 

A smile twitches onto Otomo’s lips.

‘I wouldn’t know Mister Nelson.’ He offers, thinking that he will need to allow himself a few extra hours of meditation this night for letting Mister Nelson to egg him on like this. Still, the teasing response of ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t.’ almost feels worth it.

————

The text comes through just past 3am that night and it takes a moment for Otomo to fully understand what he is reading. ‘I hate to interrupt your vacation with bad news, but I think you need to know what just happened.’ The message says simply with an attached article. It’s a breaking news story titled ‘Former Detective in league with Spider-Woman’ and a picture of George Stacy with his hands behind his head. Otomo frowns as he scrolls through the short article. The whole thing is more speculative than concrete fact but it gives him enough to understand the events that had transpired that day in NewYork. He exits out of Mister Nelson’s messages and scrolls to Master Murdock’s. He sends a quick message to let his Master know he will be returning in the next few days and moves to go and buy some tickets–

A reply comes back almost instantly. 

‘No.’ 

Otomo stares at it even as, a few moments later, the notification vanishes from his screen. He is unsure how to respond before determining that this is obviously a conversation best held vocally.

“I said ‘no’ Otomo.” Comes Master Murdock’s voice before he can even speak. “I hardly think that is an order that requires clarification.”

“I would argue otherwise, Master Murdock.” Otomo replies, voice steady, “The news of George Stacy’s arrest, I believe, warrants my return.”

“Then you believe wrong. I ordered you to go.”

“For a few weeks Master, not months. ” He reminds his Master, a bite to his own tone. It has only been a week so far, but he is already getting the feeling that his exile is going to stretch. 

“You will return when I say you will. Not a moment sooner.”

He clenches his fist in frustration around his phone as he reminds himself to keep his composure. His duty is to Master Murdock, no matter how idiotic his orders may be. Otomo should be there to smooth things over after such a large chess piece has been removed from the board–  

“…as you wish Master.” He forces himself to say. He is loyal. He will follow his orders to the T. 

“By the way Otomo, how did you—“

He hangs up before Master Murdock can finish his question.

———

He texts Mister Nelson first this time, a level of frustration driving the act. After all, his orders did not bar him from conversing with Mister Nelson (it is hardly his fault that Master Murdock is unaware of their exchange of numbers), just that he ‘leave’ and ‘get his heart under control’, and he is following his orders to a T .

Besides, It is not him who is letting his relationship with the DA effect his work. Even in the face of this growing relationship with the man, Otomo knows he has been nothing but effective and efficient in his duties to the Hand. Sure, Otomo will admit, he had made a few missteps when it came to Mister Nelson personally, but It is Master Murdock that is causing the issue to balloon unnecessarily. Exasperating something that could have been left well enough alone. Otomo isn’t stupid enough to pursue an already claimed man. He could have worked through his feelings in New York where he could have continued his job , but Master Murdock had to be possessive and send him away instead. As if it truly made a difference where he was. 

(A part of him wants to be spiteful and text his Master ‘ 惚れた病に薬なし ’ but he isn’t suicidal.)

So instead he texts Mister Nelson. It’s a simple ‘Master Murdock has decided to extend my job away. I apologize I cannot be around to help smooth things over’ . It’s a passive-aggressive message and he half regrets it as soon as it goes through, but there is nothing to be done for it now.

‘ 惚れた病に薬なし ’ indeed. 

_______

He gets a response back, but it's a delayed thing. Otomo has to imagine that Mister Nelson has been kept quite busy with the arrest of Captain Stacy. 

‘I’m sorry to hear that, buddy. I could have used some stability right now.’

Otomo isn’t sure his presence would have constituted ‘stability’ but he supposes Mister Nelson would know best on what he would consider such in his life. He is certain that Master Murdock isn’t being as consistent as Otomo would have forced him to be at the very least.   

‘I will do what I can from here.’ Otomo offers him and hopes that he can hold to that promise as he moves to contact the underlings he left in charge in his absence. They won’t have the sway he would have, but he is hopeful that they can do something. 

Mister Nelson texts him a picture later that night of the take out that Otomo had ordered delivered to the man's office. It’s not much of a meal, a greasy thing from Burger Bell. It certainly won’t do the man’s constant heartburn any good, but the added message of ‘You are a saint’ attached to the photo makes the small effort to get the ‘comfort’ food to the man worth it. 

—---------- 

It is both easier to control his heart and easier to text Mister Nelson after that. The combination of no longer caring what Master Murdock thinks and his growing frustration with the man causing the wall of formality he had been trying to force between him and Mister Nelson to crumble. His heart no longer picked up in that nervous rhythm every time he messaged the man, instead it finally held steady in his conviction that he would not care.

On the other hand Mister Nelson’s growing anxieties about George Stacy continued to build, so while Otomo’s own emotions were stabilizing out to a solid center once more, Mister Nelson’s were jumping every which way. It gives them more of a reason to converse as the man so obviously tries to find some relief from everything involved in that case and Otomo does his best to alleviate the man’s anxieties from afar. Failing that (which is often the case) he at least tries to give the DA a distraction as the days and weeks begin to build up between them. 

It is exactly two weeks after George Stacy’s arrest that Mister Nelson sends him a photo of Master Murdock passed out in what Otomo, sadly, recognizes as Mister Nelson’s bed with the caption ‘the birthday boy drank too much. Haven’t seen him this happy in years.’ Which, for a normal person, might be a simple sign of having too good of a time, but for Master Murdock it is likely a signature of further mental decay. The same almost manic states that Otomo has been witnessing more and more frequently from the other man as he tries, again and again, to self-sabotage himself. Otomo has to wonder if Mister Nelson sees the same thing he does in that picture of Matthew Murdock: a man on the verge of collapse.

Otomo thinks, again, that he should be there to smooth things out and to try and regulate his Master. But every time he has tried to return by purchasing a ticket back to New York it had, without fail, been canceled within the hour. 

‘I hope he wasn’t too difficult for you tonight.’ Otomo offers by way of condolences. 

‘A little stir crazy.’ Comes Mister Nelson’s response. Otomo has to imagine that the man is laying out next to Master Murdock in bed, likely making sure the man doesn’t asphyxiate in his sleep. ‘Even made me track him down before he dragged me around half the city to multiple dive-bars hosting live performances. Something that probably would have been less exhausting with you and your car around. My feet are killing me.’

‘I did leave someone in charge of chauffeuring Master Murdock around. Were they unavailable tonight?’ Otomo asks, already texting some of his underlings to ensure they are watching Mister Nelson’s apartment that night. Master Murdock is hardly in a state to keep himself safe.

‘Unavailable or unused to Matt.’ Comes the next response as Otomo gets a few verification messages from his ninjas. At least they haven’t fully forgotten their duties. He intends to reply to the man when a secondary report comes through that sheds more light on the circumstances of the night's events. It seems his Master’s over indulgence in his ‘birthday celebration’ likely has to do with Miss Stacy’s official submission to Master Murdock’s will. His little ‘hobby’ finally falling into place, a ‘hobby’ that Otomo is certain will lead to his Masters downfall. Otomo wonders if Miss Stacy knows she had chosen to deliver her surrender on his Masters birthday or if it was just a happy coincidence.

Otomo sighs. He is certain that Mister Nelson can handle his Master in such a state far more than anyone else can. He re-opens his messages. ‘I will have fresh sheets delivered to your apartment by noon tomorrow’ he assures the man, sending the order along to a different number. While Master Murdock is unlikely to actually get sick on Mister Nelson’s bed, ensuring the man doesn’t have sheets that smell too much of alcohol is a small sign of gratitude that he can send along for looking after his Master in such a state (Not that he thinks Mister Nelson would have done otherwise anyway).

————

Otomo attempts to purchase tickets back to New York the next day. This time it takes six hours before they are cancelled. He wonders if that means progress has been made or if it is simply a sign of his Master's hungover state.

_______

‘Hey buddy, just checking in. Hope things are going better for you than they are for me.’ Mister Nelson’s latest message comes and Otomo frowns at it as he pauses in his self-chosen task of cleaning his clan’s engagement knives. He carefully places the current one aside as he takes up his phone. 

‘My vacation is pleasant if dragging, Mister Nelson, although it is nothing I cannot handle. May I ask what has put you in such a mood though?’ He texts back. Mister Nelson’s message had been loaded and Otomo can’t help but wonder at the man’s mental state.

‘Just work. The George Stacy stuff is…I probably shouldn’t text about it but it’s a lot.’ comes the response as Otomo glances up at the time. It is late in New York right now. ‘ I really don’t want to press charges but, well, public opinion is pressing in pretty hard.’ 

It has been over a month now since the arrest, October having come and gone, and Otomo knows from his time working under Master Murdock that the man only has 45 days to formally file charges and that time is rapidly counting down. 

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mister Nelson.’ Otomo replies sincerely, ‘While I doubt I can help by way of advice, perhaps there is something else I can do to take your mind off of these issues? It is two am for you, so I have to assume you are having trouble sleeping.’

Mister Nelson’s reply is slow to appear. Dots appear and then vanish a number of times before a simple ‘what did you have in mind?’ Comes through.

Otomo frowns at that response. He hadn’t actually had anything in mind. In fact he had been hoping that Mister Nelson would throw out a suggestion that he could follow up on, but it seemed that wouldn’t be the case. He didn’t really know what to suggest that could be done at a distance. After a second of thought though he simply decides to call.

It took a few rings but eventually it was answered. “Pretty sure this is going to wrack up your phone bill.” 

“It is of no concern.” He assures and gets a sleepy kind of hum back followed by the sound of shifting sheets. “Would you like to hear about my day?” He offers, it’s the best idea he can come up with to keep the other man’s mind off of his worries. Mister Nelson so often just fills the silence like that, talking just to talk, and while it isn’t something that Otomo himself is used to doing, he has to admit that he has found it oddly relaxing to just listen to the man speak. He hopes the opposite will prove true too.

“Sure buddy.” Mister Nelson agrees and Otomo can hear him shift again, “tell me what you’ve been up to.”

He ends up talking idly about his ‘trip’ (exile really) so far. Giving Mister Nelson mundane facts about the places he has taken Mister Chung for training, the food they have consumed, a bit about his clan’s residence, anything to fill the air with ‘chatter’ as he once more takes up cleaning the engagement knives. He is pleased that, by the time he has finished his work, he can hear the other man snoring softly on the other end of the line. 

———

While there was a lot of busy work he could do at his clan's compound, it was just that: busywork, and with Master Murdock’s continued ‘no’ s for his return, even now that a month had been passed, it finally felt necessary to transition to some actual duties. He took over what he could from his temporary replacements he had left with his Master, mostly organization and paperwork that could be done long distance, before deciding there was also no reason to delay Mister Chung’s full training any longer. The boy had shown skill in his combat while at the compound, but he was still lacking in his soft skills such as poison detection, stealth, and socialization. While he cannot necessarily address all of the boy’s shortcomings, He thinks that he can, at least, start to address the urban skills the boy will need. After all, Tokyo is a fair comparison to Manhattan. 

He purchases train tickets that night. 

———

“So all I have to do is lose you?” Mister Chung asks, a smile slowly spreading over his face. He is obviously excited at the prospect of slipping the leash Otomo has had on him the whole day.

“I will give you a ten minute head start.” Otomo replies in confirmation as the boy rocks back and forth on his feet, clutching the cane he has been forced to use that day. They had spent the morning and most of the afternoon in Tokyo visiting ‘prospective’ universities to train the child on assimilation within the general public. There was much that could be gotten away with in a city, especially one like New York, but it was best if Mister Chung learned how to play the role of a normal college student when needed. 

“That seems pretty generous, Master Otomo.” Sam says, voice entering into a mocking lilt. He is projecting that he is getting ready to bolt but at least he is waiting for the official order before doing so. It seems this little trip truly has helped to bring the boy out of his shell. Otomo isn’t a fan.

“It isn’t.” Otomo informs him, “Your time starts now.” 

The kid is gone as soon as the last syllable leaves his mouth which is a good sign. The boy might not have been properly trained on the soft skills such as poisons and first aid, but he was proving to be promising at the harder skills of combat, weapons use, and hopefully would prove skilled at stealth and evasion as well.

As Otomo waites out the promised ten minutes he finally takes out his phone to check the messages he has recently received. They were all from Mister Nelson — unsurprising — and are the requested information about his time spent with Master Murdock at university…kind of.

‘That’s kind of a loaded question, buddy.’ Mister Nelson’s first message reads in response to Otomo’s initial inquiry of ‘were there any traits or things that Master Murdock did during your time at university together that made him seem unsocialized?’

‘I’m trusting you to secrecy on this. None of this gets to Matt. Ever. I can’t afford a defamation case right now.’

‘First off: injuries. That guy came back to the dorms way too hurt way too often and acted like nothing was wrong. That’s a 🚩 bud.’

‘Second: vanishing for weeks without an excuse. Another 🚩.’

‘Third: he was weird about food but, you know, having gotten to know the guy I think that is just how Matt is. So, not really a red flag but definitely odd when we first met, especially when he kept throwing all my snacks.’

There was a long time difference between that message and the next as if Mister Nelson had just thought up more things.

‘His personality was pretty off putting to a lot of people. I think it was the intensity. Matt was always super intense about everything. It’s not something I minded but I know it drove a lot of people off of him.’

Otomo thinks there is a missing part to that text. A final, unwritten ‘off of me.’ That is meant to be there but isn’t. Otomo looks at the time and finally texts back.

‘Thank you Mister Nelson. This is informative and I promise it will stay between the two of us.’

The response is near instantaneous. ‘No problem. You going to tell me why you needed it?’

Otomo hesitates in thought before determining that Mister Nelson’s assistance might actually be helpful in this matter. ‘We have a new recruit. I intend to enroll him at one of the local colleges to ensure his proper socialization.’

‘Not sure that will work. I mean, look at Matt. I haven’t even managed to get him to text me back all week. The guy's socialization skills are in hell.’

‘Precisely why I requested your input. Your hands-on knowledge is invaluable in this instance.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s the kind of compliment I want on my CV. ‘Foggy Nelson, DA of New York and man who knows how not-to-human from living with Matt Murdock for three years’ 

‘Not-to-human? I couldn’t help but notice that your first two red-flags also apply to me and our short time knowing one another, Mister Nelson.’

‘Hey, you said it, not me!’ Otomo smiles at that, entertained by the banter before he noticed the time. 

‘Apologies, Mister Nelson, I need to go knock some humility into a child.’

‘Good luck. Hopefully he isn’t too much like Matt or it will never work. Talk again soon?’

‘Yes. I will message you soon.’ And then he is off.

———

It takes five minutes for Otomo to find Mister Chung and, once he does, he sends the child flying into oncoming traffic with a swift kick. The move certainly earns him looks but not enough for people to comment. 

When Samuel finally does re-join him, slightly disheveled but nothing more, Otomo simply informs him that “you will be given eight minutes this time. I suggest you try harder.”

———

Their evasion training goes long into the night, and while Mister Chung is never fully able to slip from him, Otomo is pleased enough with the progress to call it a night once the child starts to flag. He is injured – after all there was little point in such an exercise if there weren’t consequences for failure – but, for the most part, they are non-life threatening. 

He is a little surprised when, halfway to the hotel that Otomo had booked for them that night, Mister Chung comes to a stop. Otomo turns to look at him, wondering if, perhaps, the boy was more injured then he had let on, when he tilts his head in a very familiar sign of listening. 

“Hey, Master Otomo, can we stop somewhere real quick?”

The place that Mister Chung wants to stop ends up being a twenty-four hour arcade and Otomo watches as the kids face lights up with elation at the sound of it. The child obviously cannot see any of it, but even so he makes his way quickly into the dark building that is only illuminated by the LED and neon lights of the games. Otomo silently follows after, noting the few other patrons as Mister Chung makes his way through the machines. He stumbles a little, either too tired or too overwhelmed to fully comprehend the layout around him. Watching the kid as he simply takes in everything Otomo thinks he can probably use this. 

The next day when they start training once more, Otomo tells Samuel that, if he is able to evade him for longer than thirty minutes then he will be allowed to return to the arcade. It takes the child a full three days before he manages the feat, but Otomo holds true to his word and lets the boy return. 

There is little the child can do in the arcade given his blindness, but he seems content to simply wander around and take in the sounds. He even manages to point out specific games from the sound-bites and music associated with them, a sign that Mister Chung can likely be properly trained to use his remaining senses as Master Murdock does. Otomo decides then that, if they are going to be here, he might as well turn this into another training opportunity. He has Master Chung attempt the claw machines, which he fails spectacularly at, unable to sense anything through the glass (unsurprising as even Master Murdock has trouble with such a thing), but near the back Otomo manages to find a few ski-ball and small basket-ball games which prove to be far more effective training tools. Otomo observes the child’s progress silently as more and more of the balls find their marks on each game when his phone goes off. He fishes it out and is unsurprised to find a new Message from Mister Nelson.  

‘You’ve been pretty quiet, buddy. Everything still alright where you are?’ The message asks and Otomo realizes that it has been a few days since they have conversed. It isn’t something that he finds all that concerning, seeing as he has been busy with his training of Master Chung, however it had obviously caused Mister Nelson some amount of distress.

‘I apologize for my silence. I have simply been busy with work.’ Otomo offers, wanting to note that Mister Nelson had also been uncharacteristically silent these last few days as well, although he is well aware of the stress the man is currently under. 

‘Nothing too terrible I hope. Are you okay?’ It’s an innocent enough question, but given that Mister Nelson is well aware now of what his ‘job’ is, it makes a flood of warmth go through his system. His heart is steady though, and that is all Master Murdock had ordered him to fix.

‘I am perfectly fine, Mister Nelson. I am simply training the new recruit. There are no broken ribs for you to worry about this time.’ 

The next message is a little slow, but Otomo still smiles when it comes through. ‘I hate that that made me laugh.’

‘I happen to find your sense of humor endearing, Mister Nelson.’

‘Flatterer. I’m just glad to hear you are alright.’ 

‘And what of you? Are you doing well?’ Otomo inquires, knowing the stress that hasn’t left the man yet.

‘As good as I can be.’ Foggy sends along, ‘Did Matt tell you he was taking on George Stacy as a client?’ Otomo had been aware of that, but only because he had, once more, taken on what work he could from a distance. Master Murdock hadn’t told him directly. ‘He’s using it as an excuse to avoid me now, not that he needs excuses. Says he’s ‘refusing to cross the aisle’. Even turned me down for Thanksgiving.’

“Who do you keep messaging?” Mister Chung asks, pulling Otomo away from his phone. Otomo narrows his eyes, not that the boy can notice.

“I do not believe that is any of your concern, child.”

“Is it the same person I’ve heard you talking to sometimes?” The boy presses on as if he hadn’t heard the reprimand in Otomo’s tone. “Is he part of the Hand too? Are you, like, talking to him in code or something?” 

“Mister Chung, none of that is any of your business.” He states more sharply, “Nor should you be listening in to my private conversations.”

“I mean, it’s kind of hard not to, super hearing you know?” He says as he tosses another ski-ball and gets it perfectly into the 100 point hole. “I was just curious. You sound…happy when you talk to him. Or, I don’t know, like you don’t have as much of a stick up your a–ouch!”

“Mister Chung, we have discussed your language.” Otomo reprimands as the boy rubs his ear in pain. “Such things are wholly inappropriate to say to a superior and it will not be tolerated. Let this be another lesson for you: when it comes to matters of which you have not been explicitly asked your opinion, you are to keep your mouth shut and not speak on it. Words and information are meant to be used sparingly, child.”

“Are you telling me to shut up?”

“I am giving you advice to keep yourself alive. Now, let's try the claw machine again.” he orders to a groan from Mister Chung. 

It isn’t until much later that he sees the message that he had missed in the interim of Samuel’s interruption. A simple ‘so if you get back in time, maybe we can do something? I really can’t afford to leave the city this year anyway.’ 

Otomo looks at his calendar. He has been gone for over a month. Surely his Master will let him return–

The flight he attemptes to book is canceled by the time he wakes up the next morning. 

______

Their trip to Tokyo ends up aligning with Tori no Ichi and Otomo decides that the festivities would be a good opportunity to truly test the extent of Mister Chung’s sensory capabilities. The boy’s powers certainly aren’t as extensive as what Master Murdock is capable of, but they are far more advanced than a normal human. Otomo finds himself hoping that the child is able to properly improve upon his skills, otherwise the Hand is likely to execute him as a failed experiment.

They travel to the Asakusa district by subway. It’s a chance to further get the child used to spaces that can easily induce a sensory overload if not skillfully navigated. Otomo takes the time to grill Mister Chung on all the information he can pick up about their fellow passengers. He does well, but certainly not good enough for the Hand. Otomo is Hopeful, though, that the sub-par descriptions are more a lack of expertise and unfamiliarity than a lack of ability.

The ‘Rooster Market’ is in full swing when they arrive at midnight to attend its opening. While the Hand has its own matsuri’s that they celebrate in honor of the Beast throughout the year, they are far less welcoming than this one (and involve far more bloodshed). Here they stand in the crowd of both locals and tourists as they shuffle through the shrine gate and the lanterns that adorn it. Venders line the market just on the other side and the scent of freshly cooked street food fills the air. It’s packed to a point of discomfort but Otomo easily ignores the press of humans around him, although Mister Chung visibly struggles to do the same. Good, that means that Otomo’s goal for bringing him here is being fulfilled.

A flash of a camera light goes off from a tourist nearby and Otomo blinks the spots from his eyes before another set goes off. Tourists taking pictures as they make their way through the market and take in the celebrations. It makes him think of all the photos that Mister Nelson has been sending him over the duration of his exile and makes him realize he has been sorely failing to return the favor. He is certain that the man would enjoy pictures of his travels and is a bit ashamed that he hadn’t thought as much sooner.

He takes the moment then to pull out his phone and snap a few photos of the market as best he can before sending along a caption. ‘I still do not know if I will be able to return in time for your American holiday, but please enjoy some images from 酉の市’ 

It takes a bit for a response to come through and Otomo hopes it isn’t because the man is skipping his lunch hour for work. Still, it does eventually come through. ‘It looks like you are having way more fun than me. Honestly, If I could afford the vacation, I would be flying out there myself to meet you instead of being cooped up in my office.’

So skipping lunch it is. Otomo sends an order to get something delivered to the DA’s office. On the other note, though, the idea of taking the man on a tour of Japan is certainly appealing. In fact, Otomo thinks that he would like that quite a lot. ‘I would be happy to host you if that is something you wish.’ 

‘Maybe after all the dust settles with the Stacy case. I definitely think I’m going to be needing a long vacation after that.’ Otomo thinks the man likely will too, and Mister Nelson is only half-aware of everything else going on behind the scenes in that case. Master Murdock, he knows, likely has a lot more planned for goals that Otomo himself can hardly comprehend. (And If he is being truthful he doesn’t actually think that Master Murdock has any final goals with all of this and is, instead, burning himself to the ground).

‘When that moment comes, Mister Nelson, I will be happy to coordinate a trip with you.’ He offers before turning back to the festivities.

———

“We’re going to be going to New York eventually, right?” Samuel asks him as they sit just outside of the market with the yakitori that they had procured.  

“Eventually yes.” Otomo replies, sure of that fact. Otomo cannot stay in exile forever. He was assigned to Master Murdock and, whether the man likes it or not, eventually that order will override his current one and he will either be allowed to return by his Master himself or the Hand will step in to send him back, something that Otomo is becoming more and more tempted to call in. The 26th was fast approaching after all… 

“If I’m allowed, Master Otomo, I…would like to request permission to visit someone while I am there.” Sam asks, causing Otomo to look back up at the boy and away from the latest message on his phone. Mister Nelson seemed to be quite enamored by the lucky cats that Otomo had photographed. He made a note to get a Kumade with one on it for the man. He could certainly use the luck. 

“A friend?”

“My mother and little sister.” Sam corrects and Otomo pauses at this new information.

“You are from New York.” He had been unaware of this. He wonders why the Hand hadn’t informed him.

“China Town, not born but raised.” Sam agrees with a nod, “My mom and sister are still there…I think. I doubt my mom would have moved too far from the church.”

“Which church?” Otomo asks, aware that he had likely just gotten his answer to why he had not been fully informed of the boy’s origins. He is pretty sure he knows exactly which church the child had come from.

“The Church of the Sheltering Hands.” The kid confirms Otomo’s suspicions, “I was told it was part of the Hand?”

“It is.” Otomo agrees. He is, reluctantly, familiar with the church and Master ‘Tenfingers’, who holds rocky standing within the Hand. He is one of Otomo’s hits should the man ever attempt to betray them. He has many such people on his list residing in North America. ‘Problem’ individuals who have been sent far away as a matter of safety for the Hand as a whole. Master Murdock is top of said list, but Otomo can’t help but hope that his Master never forces the Hand to take those measures, even though he knows that is a foolish hope. Which is, of course, all the more reason to keep Mister Chung a safe distance from the man.

“You were recruited from there?” Otomo asks, just to verify his speculation.

“All of us were.” The boy offers and Otomo nods, more to himself than the child who cannot see it. He wonders if the choice was one of convenience, an attempt to reduce outside variables, or if it was meant to be a slight on Master Murdock. The Hand’s research branch does not need permission from any but their Masters to do as they please. They have free reign to do what they need to get the results the Masters want and none of them are to stand in their way. 

——

Otomo listens as Mister Nelson drinks from what he has to assume is an antacid bottle on the other end of the line a few days later. It has been forty-five days and the DA is an agitated mess.

“I told him to leave it alone. To drop his whole vendetta against the Stacy’s, I gave him my professional legal judgment that no one would convict, and what did he do? He went on a personal manhunt! God, I even dropped hints to Dewolff hoping that she might be able to talk some sense into him and what do I have to show for it?! Castle blowing up an apartment building with some illegal Stark-tech and George Stacy in jail! I should have just gone to Matt first. Should have asked him to do something about Frank—“ he hears the man take another drink and Otomo has to hope it’s the antacid and not something stronger. He wonders if he should mention to Mister Nelson that Master Murdock had already gone after Frank Castle as a little show for George Stacy. That Otomo himself had almost cut off the man’s head before being called off. He doesn’t think it will help all that much besides to confirm to the man that this whole thing is a set up by his Master.

“At least with the holidays coming up I can draw things out for a while longer as far as getting the actual case started and getting Stacy in the courts, but it only buys me so much time. Stacy wants to go on the stand. Wants to air all of our dirty laundry and I…damn it. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Otomo finds himself wishing he could help but, right now, he doesn’t think there is anything he can do to change this situation, even if he was there. He might not be in New York, but he knows from the reports he has gotten, that this little stunt of Castles has made everything with Spider-Woman fall into place just as Master Murdock wanted. This is likely exactly how his master wants things to be, Mister Nelson’s situation and all.

“God, this isn’t even why I called. Just— do you think you’ll be back before thanksgiving?” There is an almost pleading lilt to the other man’s tone. “I don’t want to cut your vacation short buddy, but You’ve been gone over a month and I…” he trails off and Otomo shifts against the rooftop of his hotel as he looks up at the moon. 

“I’ll be back in a few days, Mister Nelson, in time for your American holiday” Otomo promises. Masters orders or not, He has been gone long enough and it’s about time he got physical eyes back on Matthew Murdock to monitor him once more. It has been more than a few weeks and Otomo’s heart has long been brought back under control. He will not let his Master delay his return any longer. “Please take care of yourself until then.”

“Ya buddy,” Foggy replies, his voice heavy, “you too.”