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Kuzan parked his car across the street from a flowershop. Sakazuki’s flower shop. He remembered visiting it when it opened and almost getting punched when he joked about how Sakazuki took his old call sign from the marines a little too seriously.
He placed a hand over his chest, “Calm down. It’s only been four years since you last saw the guy.”
Taking a deep breath, he got out of his car. The door to the flower shop opened with a chime of a bell, a man with green hair was spraying some flower displays and looked up.
“Welcome,” The tone was something akin of a thug about to rob an old man.
“Who are you?” Kuzan asked, his words coming rougher than he intended.
“What do you mean who am I? Who do you think you are?” The man turned over, his shirt revealing the logo of the flower shop. Employee then, not some thief with a weird hobby.
Kuzan walked toward the backdoor, the man quickly blocking his path, “Oi, where do you think you’re going!?”
Kuzan paused, his head turning to look past the man’s shoulder, “Where’s Sakazuki?”
“What do you want with Sakazuki-san?” The man’s tone grew even more aggressive and he crowded Kuzan. Unphased, Kuzan was about to push his way through when the backdoor opened.
“What’s with all the yelling?” Sakazuki growled out, his eyes darting from Aramaki and then narrowing when it landed on Kuzan. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Kuzan said, his arms crossing over his chest. “Are you ready to go?”
“Give me a minute.” Sakazuki grumbled, turning to his employee. “Aramaki, this is Kuzan. He’ll be the one driving me to Sengoku’s. Kuzan, Aramaki.”
The man, Aramaki, turned to Kuzan, his eyes scanning him from head to toe. The nerve of the guy.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Sakazuki-san? I can still drive you there—”
“We already talked about this.” Sakazuki dismissed him, “You need to handle the shipment for the wedding. I’ll be back in a few days, and I expect the shop to still be standing by then.”
“Yes sir!” Aramaki beamed, flashing a thumbs up with a grin. The almost instant switch in mood threw Kuzan in a loop. What a weirdo.
Not wanting to stay in the place for too long, Kuzan turned to leave. “I’m parked just across the street. Come to the car when you’re ready.”
Sakazuki grunted, not even looking up from the tablet he was holding.
Kuzan headed back to his car, shutting the door gently and relaxing as the cool air hit his skin. Honestly, of all the times Sengoku forced them to come, why did it have to be smackdab in the middle of summer. Kuzan pulled out his phone and played some games while waiting for Sakazuki. As he died another time, he looked up and saw Sakazuki standing outside his flower shop, a phone against his ear.
It struck Kuzan how different he looked and yet he was still the same overbearing and grumpy guy. He watched as Sakazuki’s shoulders lowered but then tense as he dropped the call. A weirdo employee and now a mysterious phone call. Maybe that was expected from a weird and mysterious guy.
Sakazuki headed to his car and Kuzan unlocked it.
He peeled off from the side of the road and thus began their little roadtrip.
They were driving for roughly an hour now, the sound of jazz filling the silence. Kuzan didn’t mind long drives but Sakazuki was all tense in the passenger seat and it was ruining the mood. So, Kuzan did what he always did wat he wanted and poked the bear.
“That farm will be mine, you know.”
Sakazuki huffed, “In your dreams.”
“I’m just saying. You don’t need all that land anyway. What are you going to do? Start a flower farm or something? Last I heard you already have the best shop in town.”
Sakazuki turned to him, a scowl on his face, “That’s why I need it. I need to expand my catalogue. Getting my own supply means I can give more options to customers and lower the prices.”
Typical Sakazuki. Practical. Ambitious.
“Well I need it more.” Kuzan said petulantly. “My brewery’s doing good and I need more land. Tell Sengoku you don’t want it and I’ll give you a lifetime supply of liquor.”
“I don’t drink.” Sakazuki rolled his eyes.
“Then sell it to your customers. That can be your shop’s gimmick, right? I don’t mind giving you the rights to do it.”
“You can take that offer and shove it up your ass!” Sakazuki yelled, “And focus on the goddamn road!”
Just to be an asshole, Kuzan swerved the car. The street was empty so there really were no risks but Sakazuki’s face grew red. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”
“Lighten up.” Kuzan teased, “It’s not like we’re going to crash or something.”
“You’re a bastard.” Sakazuki retorted, hand white where he was gripping the handle. “Pull over.”
“What? Gonna walk all the way there?”
“No you idiot, pull over to the gas station. I have to piss!”
Kuzan did not want his car stained and smelling for weeks so he pulled over. He headed to the convenience store attached to the station and got some snacks and drinks. While munching on a chocolate bar, he saw Sakazuki coming out from the restroom with his phone against his ear again. Who could that bastard be talking to? Clients? No, he had that man, Aramaki, to handle that for him surely. Or maybe not. Sakazuki was the type to micromanage people and he was enough of a workaholic to handle things all by himself.
Sakazuki got back into the car and Kuzan did not share his snacks with Sakazuki.
The trip to the countryside was peaceful. There were buildings everywhere in the city. Watching the cement structures turn into more traditional, wooden houses was relaxing. Felt like coming back home, back to a time where everything was simpler.
It was noon when Kuzan picked up Sakazuki. Now that the sun was no longer shining down as hard, he rolled the windows down and they enjoyed the fresh air unique to rural areas.
“It’s been a while since I’ve went to the farm.” Kuzan said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Have you been there again?”
Sakazuki hummed, “A few times every year.”
“Did you go to see him?”
There was a brief pause, and he glanced at the corner of his eye to see Sakazuki turning his head to the window, “I did.”
Kuzan nodded to himself, making a noise of acknowledgement. A poor attempt at an olive branch or something. Anything to not disrupt whatever this moment was.
“I go there sometimes to give Garp and Sengoku some beer. Garp nearly knocked me out when I was late one year. You should’ve seen Sengoku beat his ass.”
“Serves the old bastard right.” Sakazuki smirked.
Kuzan laughed, “Tsuru’s bar is doing alright too. She asked me to pass along a message since you never visit her.”
“What is it?”
“Garp started a tab on your name. You owe her a bunch of money.” He laughed.
Sakazuki sat up straighter, “What!? She could have refused to make one!”
“You have plenty of time to convince her once we get there.” Kuzan replied, a wide smile on his face. Serves Sakazuki right.
“I’m going to beat that old man’s ass first.” Sakazuki humped. “The nerve of that man. ‘Didn’t even bother to let me know himself.”
Kuzan scoffed, “Good luck with that. He still has a mean left hook.” Kuzan’s jaw ached at the memory.
“Have you…” Sakazuki started, his tone turning soft and hesitant, “Have you seen him…since then?”
Kuzan’s smile slowly vanished from his face. He thought about what to say. In the end, he came up with, “A few times. I…yeah.” He let the sentence hang, not knowing how to finish it.
Sakazuki was silent for a few seconds before saying, “Then you have plenty of time when we get there.”
Kuzan didn’t know what to say. That he didn’t feel like he could stand to see Borsalino? That he didn’t know what he’ll do when he goes there?
They spend the next hour in silence.
Kuzan was getting tired. Six hours of driving can do that to a person. The traffic got heavy every time they passed a town and as the sun set, it was around the time that trucks were filling the roads.
Which means heavier traffic.
“It’s getting late,” Sakazuki said, “Let’s stop at an inn.”
Kuzan yawned, the reminder of the long journey just made things worse. “I can still drive. We’ll get there quicker if I drive through the night.”
Even without looking, he could feel Sakazuki’s scowl. “We’re still hours away, what are you talking about.”
“Stop being such a hard ass.” Kuzan said, looking at Sakazuki.
“Then stop being reckless!”
Kuzan ignored Sakazuki. Ignored him when he pointed out the rest stops they passed. Ignored him when he yelled for Kuzan to stop being a moron.
When they were stuck in almost an hour at a four-lane road that became a one-lane due to construction, Kuzan began thinking that Sakazuki might have had a point and wasn’t just an overly paranoid bastard.
“I told you so.” Sakazuki muttered as he got out of the car and headed inside a motel to check them in. “We could have skipped that nonsense if you just did as I said!”
Kuzan stayed in the car for a while to decompress. Sakazuki was so overbearing. They were stuck at that junction for over two hours and they were moving at a snail’s pace. Kuzan was close to throttling Sakazuki and he had a feeling any more time stuck in his car and Sakazuki would have throttled him as well.
Sakazuki returned and knocked on his window. “Here’s your room key, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He tossed the key to Kuzan and walked away.
What a bastard.
Kuzan took a few more minutes to himself before heading inside.
The room was alright considering what it was. A carpet with weird patterns, loud AC, and the sheets smelled like they just sprayed it with fabric refreshing spray instead of having it washed.
But a room is a room and a bed is a bed.
After hours driving, the firm mattress felt like heaven. Sakazuki was on the room opposite his. Thank goodness they weren’t sharing a room. Kuzan doesn’t think he can spend anymore time in close quarters with the guy.
They shared rooms when they were younger. Three young boys in a small room with glow in the dark stars stuck on the ceiling. It had been…nice.
Kuzan reached over to the plastic bag of snacks he brought along and pulled a few cans of beer he picked up. He rubbed his chest as he drank the room temperature beer. It had been a truly long day and he deserved a little treat for himself. “Damn Sakazuki isn’t even grateful I’m driving him there.”
Three cans in and he decided to grab a bite to eat from the canteen beside the motel. There was something comforting about eating a cheap burger with a beer in the parking lot. He just finished his second burger when he saw Sakazuki exiting the motel, their eyes meeting. Kuzan saw how Sakazuki scowled as he saw the beer on the hood of the car. Wherever he was going seemed to become the second priority as Sakazuki stalked toward him, anger clear in his face.
“What the hell is this!?” Sakazuki asked.
“Dinner.”
“You’re drinking? How many have you had?”
“As much as I wanted. And more.” Kuzan prodded, exhaustion turning into anger. “What’s it to you?”
“That swill will kill you.”
“So? A lot of things can kill me but I don’t spend my time being afraid.”
Sakazuki stepped closer, fists tight against his side. “I’m not afraid!”
Kuzan scoffed, “Could’ve fooled me.”
“You goddamn—”
They ended up fighting in the parking lot.
It brought forth a lot of memories. Of chiding voices and the sting of antiseptic. Being forced to apologize in a room too small for three hormonal boys to share.
A security guard came to pull them apart and Kuzan headed back to his room. He doesn’t know if Sakazuki did the same and he didn’t care.
He drank the rest of the beer he bought and then some. “I was saving this for when I was in the farm but fuck it.” He opened another beer, “Damn controlling bastard.”
Sakazuki was so much easier to deal with when Borsalino was with them. One word from that man and Sakazuki would melt. But only when Borsalino wasn’t being the little shit that he was and was goading them into fighting more. He used to do it a lot when they were younger. Always stroked the fire and got them into more trouble.
He only ever really started stopping them when they got older. When he began to look at Sakazuki as more than a friend.
Kuzan blinked, “Goddamn it.” He finished the rest of his beer in one go and decided it was time for bed.
“Uncle! This is Kuzan!” Borsalino said, holding Kuzan by the wrist as the door opened revealing an old man with glasses and a braided beard. “He has no parents and he’s been fighting with Sakazuki a lot in the playground.”
Kuzan was fourteen years old then. Borsalino was sixteen and Sakazuki fifteen. Kuzan was minding his own business in the park. He’s been fighting kids his age for some cash. For a few days, he noticed both boys at the park and Sakazuki got it into his head that Kuzan was some kind of drug dealer.
It was always just taunts between them but today was just different. Someone took a swing and they ended up duking it out. Kuzan got a few bruises and no money. He had nowhere to stay so when Borsalino dragged him to his home, he didn’t put up a fight.
The man, Sengoku he would later learn his name was, sighed and let them in.
“You gotta stop bring home strays, Borsalino.” Despite the man’s words, he did pull out his first aid kit and led Kuzan to the kitchen. He looked over Sakazuki first who was stewing at the table and then Kuzan.
Borsalino was somewhere in the house, probably watching something on the television after dragging Sakazuki away. It was only Kuzan and Sengoku now.
“You can call me Sengoku. You don’t have any folks I have to call?” The man was putting ointments on the cuts on Kuzan’s hand.
“No.”
“You can stay here. I’ve seen you around town before. You the kid punching teens around for some dough?” Sengoku leveled a hard stare at him.
Kuzan looked away, nodding. There was no point in lying. He’d be thrown out anyway, might as well get it over with.
“I figured. You can stay here. But no more fighting, you hear?”
“I’ll be gone in the morning. Sir.” He added, trying to be polite to the man that just patched up his wounds. He wasn’t a total bastard.
Sengoku sighed, putting away the kit and cleaning up. “You don’t expect me to throw you back out there, do you? You’re staying here. I’ll get the paperwork done in a few days.”
As if marking the end of the conversation, Borsalino’s head popped in the entryway, his smile bright and wide, “See! I told you he’d say yes!”
From the living room, Sakazuki’s voice rang out, “I’m not sharing my bed!”
Kuzan woke up. His body felt heavy and the world was spinning. Despite getting a shower, he still felt like shit. Sakazuki was already waiting for him outside his car.
Kuzan opened his door but Sakazuki closed it. Not in the mood for his nonsense, Kuzan glared at the man, “What the hell do you want now this early?”
“You’re still drunk. Go sober up before getting in.”
Kuzna rolled his eyes, “I’m fine. I can drive.”
“I said no.”
“We’re already going to arrive late. Unless you’re going to drive us there, I see no point in wasting any more time.”
Sakazuki stayed rooted at the spot. Kuzan sighed, exasperated and annoyed. “Why can’t you just listen to me for once in your life?”
Sakazuki didn’t answer, his gaze going toward the canteen. Kuzan followed it and saw the security guard from the night before looking at both of them with a glare.
“You’re not honestly planning on reporting me to a security guard? They can’t even arrest people!”
“If you won’t listen—”
Kuzan threw his hands in the air, “Fine! Fine, we’ll get breakfast but you’re buying.”
They headed to the canteen and Kuzan ordered a full breakfast, the most expensive thing on the menu. Sakazuki didn’t bother looking upset. They ate in silence, the chatter from a small radio the only sound in the empty place.
As Kuzan lugged a cup of coffee, he did start to feel better. Still with a little headache but manageable enough to not snap at Sakazuki every time the other opened his mouth. In front of him, Sakazuki had already finished his meal and was tinkering with an old flip phone.
“What the hell is that?” Kuzan asked with his mouth open.
“Shut you’re mouth, you’re disgusting. And this is a phone.”
Kuzan rolled his eyes, “I know that. But what are you doing with it? Don’t you have one of the more recent ones? Unless you’re one of those old people who hate technology.”
Sakazuki glared, “It gets the job done.”
The clacking of the keys added to the ambiance. Kuzan almost wanted to snatch the old thing from Sakazuki just to see what was so interesting on it. Surely he wasn’t taking orders from that ancient relic? “The only people who use that sort of thing are criminals. You’re flower shop isn’t some money laundering scheme is it?”
“Shut up and eat!”
Kuzan truly must be feeling better if Sakazuki’s anger wasn’t causing him annoyance but joy.
After eating, Kuzan filled up the car with gas and they headed toward the farm. Just a couple more hours and he could get some space from the bastard.
With nothing better to do, Kuzan talked about his brewery and its successes. The Aokiji Brewery was one of the biggest breweries in the country and they’re planning to export more of their goods abroad. Their European partners were interested in investing more on the company and Kuzan was planning on moving there, “For a change of scenery, you know.”
“Then why bother fighting me for Sengoku’s farm?” Sakazuki asked, eating some packet of sweets he bought at the convenience store.
“Probably the same reason you refuse to hand it over to me.”
Sengoku had called them on the landline a few weeks ago to announce his upcoming retirement. “I‘m getting too old to manage the place, and you boys are the only people I trust to handle it.”
They talked over each other to convince the old man to hand it to them but Sengoku yelled at them to shut up, “I’m not talking about this through the goddamn phone! Get your asses here and we’ll discuss it like men!”
Both of them tried convincing Sengoku to change his mind but the old coot refused to budge. On the background, Garp’s laughter can be heard.
“I say make them fight conqueror’s style!”
“Shut your trap Garp!”
Sengoku spoke directly to the phone, Garp’s laughter fading into the background. “There’ll be no fighting here, you hear?! And one more thing! Regardless whether you want it or not, I expect both of you here. If one of you doesn’t show up, I’ll sell it to some big shot millionaire with the condition of both of you never setting foot here or being able to buy it.”
It was impossible to change Sengoku’s mind once it was made up.
“Do we really have the same reason?” Sakazuki asked, his eyes flicking to Kuzan.
“I think we do.”
Around noon, they stopped at a restaurant to eat. Kuzan wanted to order from the drive-thru but Sakazuki was being difficult again.
It was there that Kuzan broached the subject, “That man in your store. Who is he?”
Sakazuki seemed surprised but answered, “Aramaki? He’s just an employee.”
“Doesn’t seem like you to hire someone so…passionate.”
Kuzna remembered their interaction and how Aramaki seemed to practically grow flowers in his head whenever he spoke to Sakazuki or mentioned his name.
Sakazuki chuckled, surprising Kuzan, “He’s an old cop. Wouldn’t stop pestering me to hire him. Eventually, I agreed just to get him off my back. He’s good with the flowers and…people.”
“That was never your strong suit was it?” Kuzan chuckled, “I can’t even picture you saying ‘Welcome’ to your customers.”
“They don’t need me to be nice. They want my flowers so they go to my shop. If they have a problem with that, they can go somewhere else.”
Now that Sakazuki’s guard seemed lower, Kuzan tentatively asked his true question, “Have you…thought about that restaurant business we were all thinking about starting?”
Sakazuki’s expression twisted before morphing into a stoic mask. So predictable.
“No. It…doesn’t feel right.”
Kuzan hummed. “Maybe we can ask for Borsalino’s permission when we get to the farm.”
Sakazuki dropped his fork and it clattered against the porcelain plate. Kuzan continued, ignoring how Sakazuki seemed to be glaring daggers on his skull, “It’s been, what, four years since we all got together.” Kuzan paused, meeting Sakazuki’s eyes, “You didn’t actually think that Sengoku’s ordering us to go there just to discuss business, right?”
“Meddling old fool.” Sakazuki muttered.
Kuzan left the conversation at that. He was feeling raw as well. Talking about Borsalino, just mentioning his name sent a pang through his chest.
They paid for the meal and Kuzan paused at the door, his hand going to his pocket and feeling the worn velvet within. Four years since they were all together. Five years if he considered—
He sighed and followed Sakazuki to the car.
They spent the rest of the ride saying nothing. Kuzan didn’t even bother putting up some music. He rolled the windows down and didn’t say anything when Sakazuki took out a cigar and smoked.
They were supposed to arrive in around five more hours but there was another traffic jam in the last city before Sengoku’s farm. The sun was setting and Kuzan stopped at another rest stop inn a few hours short of the farm.
That night, they had a short dinner at some diner across the inn. Both of them couldn’t sleep. Kuzan headed to the parking lot for some fresh air and saw Sakazuki already there sitting on a bench, still fiddling with his relic of a phone.
Seeing him approach, Sakazuki stopped, moving over as an invitation for Kuzan to sit by him. Kuzan thought about rejecting it but dismissed it.
“Did you mean what you said? About the restaurant?” Sakazuki asked.
“I did. The three of us said we’d start one once we were out of the Marines. Just because…just because we’re a few years late doesn’t mean we can still try, right?” Kuzan replied, pulling out some chips he brought with him but not the beer.
After a moment of silence, Kuzan said, “The day is coming up, isn’t it? Think that’s why Sengoku set this up?”
Sakazuki chuckled without humor, “Knowing that man, he probably did. Can’t just mind his own business.”
Kuzan hummed. “That Aramaki fellow…” he started.
“What about him?”
Kuzan blinked, chewing his chips slower to assess Sakazuki, “You’re not blind, are you? You gotta know how he looks at you?”
Sakazuki froze, “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? I was there five seconds and I can see he practically worships the ground you walk on.”
Sakazuki remained silent.
“It’s been years. Surely you’re still not—”
“Not all of us can sleep with a bunch of people whenever the mood strikes.” Sakazuki interrupted.
“That’s not—”
“And what about you? Every article that features you, you have a different woman in your arm and a bunch of booze in the other.” Sakazuki growled out.
Sakazuki was reading articles about him?
“This isn’t about me—”
“The hell it isn’t!” Sakazuki slammed his fist against the bench.
Kuzan tried again, “Look, if you’re thinking about Borsalino, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you moved on. It’s been years—”
“You don’t know what Borsalino wants.” Sakazuki growled out, facing him with a glare.
“Well it sure isn’t this!” Kuzan retorted with a scoff. “You’re becoming a hermit.”
“What do you want me to do? Be like you? Drink everything away despite—” Sakazuki stopped, his eyes flickering down. That made the anger in Kuzan rise.
“Say it! Say what you’ve always thought but didn’t have the balls to say to my face.”
Sakazuki looked to be on the verge of exploding but he took a breath to calm down, eyes still not meeting Kuzan’s. That just made Kuzan angrier.
“Forget it.” Sakazuki stood and Kuzan stood with him, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away.
“No, we aren’t through talking!”
“Yes we are!”
Sakazuki pulled his hand away but Kuzan grabbed at his shoulder. The movement caused the phone in Sakazuki’s hand to drop. Feeling petty, Kuzan took it from the ground.
“Don’t!” The sheer panic and desperation in Sakazuki’s voice almost made him comply. Almost.
“What the hell is so special about this anyway? What? Talking to your boy toy? You have some nerve lecturing me when you’re probably out there probably moving on—”
“Give that back!” Sakazuki lunged at him to grab the phone but Kuzan was too quick. He pocketed it and threw a fist.
Because how dare Sakazuki. Perfect Sakazuki who seemed to have gotten his shit together, moved on like nothing ever happened meanwhile Kuzan is out here being haunted by guilt and memories that only goes away when he poisons his body.
Sakazuki punched him in the face and it felt like absolution.
Kuzan countered his fist and it felt like retributive justice.
They continued fighting, punches and kicks not too dissimilar to how they fought as teenagers.
Like that night.
Sakazuki pulled at his shirt and the buttons were undone, revealing a massive scar. Sakazuki’s eyes were drawn to it and froze.
“Look at me you damn bastard!” Kuzan punched Sakazuki in the jaw and it sent him tumbling down. He continued punching but Sakazuki’s eyes remained on the scar. That damn scar.
Eventually, Kuzan pulled away. Sakazuki was still on the ground and Kuzan sat next to him. He spat out blood and opened up the phone, seeing that it was opened on a voice mail.
Looking at Sakazuki who was still laying down, eyes stuck on the sky and fists held tightly on his side, Kuzan put the phone on his ear and listened.
He expected some gruff voice, maybe even a feminine flirty one.
“Hey love,” Kuzan felt his blood turned to ice. Borsalino.
“Looks like the bartender still has your phone. I thought you were going to talk to Kuzan not punch each other’s lights out. We talked about this, didn’t we.” The playful voice made his heart clench.
“You’re lucky the bartender was so kind not to call the cops on you or I would’ve let you two spend the night in jail. Anyway, I’m coming to pick you up now. See you soon. Love you!”
Kuzan felt all the strength leave him.
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding against his ribcage. “You’re an idiot,” he said, not knowing who he was talking to.
Kuzan offered a hand to Sakazuki and lifted him up. He handed the phone back without a word. They headed to their room, a single room with two beds this time because the inn was packed.
They headed to their beds. The only light came from the inn’s neon sign by the window.
“He left me a message.” Sakazuki said, out of the blue.
“What?”
“That night. He left me a voice message while I was unconscious. I still haven’t listened to it.”
Kuzan’s voice was stuck in his throat. “Why not?”
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to hear what he said to me during that time.”
Kuzan stayed silent.
“You remember our fight in the bar, right? I told you I was going to propose to him.”
Kuzan remained still.
“I don’t know if he would have said yes, if he would have said no. Maybe he blamed me for what happened. If I just kept my cool and stayed calm then maybe—”
“He wouldn’t blame you.” Kuzan choked out.
Sakazuki grunted, “And he wouldn’t blame you, too.”
It felt like ice water poured down his veins. After a moment, Sakazuki added more quietly, “i don’t blame you.”
“You should.” Kuzan said. Digging deep into his heart, Kuzan drew the strength to do what he should have done years ago.
“You should know something too…”
“What is it.”
“Borsalino would have said yes.”
Sakazuki scoffed.
“I’m serious. I know he would have.”
“How could you know? And don’t give me that nonsense about feelings or whatever.”
Kuzan dug around his pocket and fished out a worn velvet box. “All these years I thought you’ve moved on. That you were doing alright since that day. I didn’t want to open up old wounds—” He stopped, “No. That’s not true. I was selfish. I loved him for a long time and I was jealous. I didn’t want you to—”
Sakazuki was silent.
Kuzan took a breath, “Before you invited me to that bar, Borsalino spoke to me. Here,” He tossed the box to Sakazuki. Despite the low light, he could see Sakazuki, sitting up and freezing as he felt the box in his hands. “He told me he was going to propose to you. Told me to keep it until he was ready because you would have probably found it in your house.”
Sakazuki opened the box and Kuzan looked away, giving him what little privacy he could.
“I was just going to keep it until after…after. But then we met up in the farm a year after and you beat the shit out of me. Do you know how it felt? I was drunk off my ass and you’re there looking picture-perfect. Like it didn’t even hurt you. Like you’ve already moved on.”
“Only because you’re destroying your body, destroying the last piece—”
“I know! God I know. It was my fault, alright!? If I could have just kept my feelings to myself, I wouldn’t have fought you in that bar. He wouldn’t have had to go out and pick us up.”
“The truck—”
“No! We wouldn’t have gotten hit by that truck if he didn’t have to go to the bar in the first place. Maybe you two would have been married by now,. He’d have gotten the farm and both of you would probably be so insufferable but he would be alive!”
The silence was stiff.
“You probably hate me, don’t you?” Kuzan muttered, “If you didn’t already because of the accident, then this would.”
“I don’t.” Sakazuki said. “I’m upset, angry that you kept this from me. But…”
“...”
“I don’t know what I would have done if I knew he felt the same way.” Sakazuki admitted. “I was…not myself for a few months after the accident. Sengoku…he had to talk some sense into me. Told me to stay strong and all that shit. But he doesn’t understand. If I knew Borsalino—” he choked, “If I knew Borsalino wanted to marry me as well… I don’t know if I could have moved past it. I still haven’t. My life would be different if I knew.”
Sakazuki continued, “It’s true I blamed you for a time, but I blamed myself more. I still do. Both of us threw punches that day. We chose to fight instead of talking. We still choose fighting despite everything.”
“I’m sorry.” Kuzan said.
“I’m sorry too.” Sakazuki replied.
Kuzan woke up in a pure white room with the sound of beeping and hissing. The last thing he remembered was swinging at Sakazuki and Borsalino scolding them at the car. There was a bright light and—
His eyes flew open. He looked around, and saw Sakazuki sitting on a chair at the foot of his bed. He had a hospital gown on. His eyes were red.
Kuzan tried to sit up but there was a sharp pain in his chest. “Wh..ere…?”
Sakazuki was silent, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Were those tears in his eyes?
Sakazuki stood and exited the room, taking his IV drip with him.
They didn’t leave the inn until after lunch. Kuzan woke up with Sakazuki gone, a note saying he’ll be back by lunch time. Kuzan wasn’t in the mood to eat breakfast so he just turned over on the bed and slept more.
They arrived at the farm just as the sun was setting. Sengoku was at the porch of his house, and he waved at them as Kuzan parked.
“I was beginning to think you two wouldn’t show up.” He said, patting them on the shoulder as they set their bags inside their old room.
“You have no idea what we went through just to get here.” Kuzan said, his tone light though his eyes drifted to Sakazuki.
“Garp should be getting home in a few minutes.” Sengoku turned to Kuzan, “He wants you to meet his apprentice in the dojo. I’ll call him to let him know you two have arrived.”
Kuzan paused, “Have him bring the kid tomorrow.”
Sengoku looked at him then at Sakazuki, seemingly feeling the heavy air that surrounded the two men.
“Alright, let’s have dinner like old times then!” Sengoku said. “Having Koby arrive tomorrow would be for the best I think. I have a feeling he wants you two to have a spar.”
Sakazuki scoffed, “Count me out of that.”
“I was talking to Kuzan!” Sengoku rolled his eyes, “But you and I can have a round or two if you prefer. Gotta make sure you haven’t forgotten what we thought you!”
Kuzan frowned, “He doesn’t want us to spar just to see who would get the dojo, right?”
Sengoku let out a laugh, “You already rejected his offer! I’m guessing he wants to see if his new apprentice can go toe to toe with his former favorite pupil.” Sengoku winked and it caused Kuzan to smile.
Garp came to the house one day and decided he would train the three of them. Borsalino dreaded every session, preferring a different style of fighting. Kuzan took it very well. All his energy went to something productive, a good outlet where he can beat people up while honing his skills.
“I’m heading out!” Sakazuki shouted over his shoulder, the door already slamming behind him.
“That kid still doesn’t have manners.” Sengoku grumbled before turning his eyes to Kuzan. “So, anything interesting happened on the drive here?”
Kuzan sank into the couch, Sengoku sitting opposite him on an armchair. “I gave him the ring.”
“Is that why you two are covered in bruises?”
Kuzan chuckled, “That came before.”
“And now?”
Kuzan shrugged, “I don’t know.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Sengoku said and Kuzan scoffed.
“I’m serious, Kuzan. I’ll repeat this as many times as it takes to get it through your thick skull.”
“I got your nephew killed. He got me from out of the streets, shared his home and family with me. And I just kept wanting more—”
“Kuzan.” Sengoku stopped him, reaching out to hold his hand, “You didn’t know what would happen that night. The driver ran a red light and you were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Kuzan couldn’t stand the kindness in Sengoku’s eyes, the softness of his voice, and how he freely gave forgiveness to the person who got his remaining blood relative killed.
“I’ll go find Sakazuki.”
Sengoku hummed, leaning back on the chair. “Take your time, I’ll leave the food in the oven if you feel like eating later.”
Kuzan found Sakazuki exactly where he thought he would find him. Just past the small orchard lay a single oak tree. Borsalino didn’t want to be buried in some fancy cemetery and made arrangements during their time in the marines to be buried in the farm. At home.
Sakazuki was sitting in front of the grave, his back to Kuzan. Kuzan deliberately stepped on some fallen leaves and Sakazuki stiffened at the sound.
Kuzan didn’t say anything, opting to sit behind Sakazuki, their backs touching. The only comfort Kuzan could give without it feeling too much.
He could feel Sakazuki take deep breaths, felt him shuddering as he stifled the sobs.
“I listened to it.” Sakazuki said, his voice soft and shaking. “He…he mentioned you, too.”
Sakazuki handed him the old phone and Kuzan grabbed it. Looking at it now, it looked so worn.
“I just kept calling his number just to hear his voicemail. Sometimes I send him messages and call just to hear his voice.” Sakazuki took a breath, “I never listened to that because—”
Kuzan interrupted, “You don’t have to tell me.”
It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Every time Kuzan saw Sakazuki with his ear on the phone, he was probably listening to Borsalino’s voicemail. Every time he was tinkering with it, he was texting an old number knowing he will never get a reply.
Without a word, Kuzan put the phone against his ear and listened to what Borsalino’s message from five years ago.
“Hey there, love.” There was a cough, the voice so soft that Kuzan had to press the phone closer just to hear better, “I’m sorry. Looks like I’m not going to come home with you. I want to, God how I want to. The doctors told me that there’s nothing to be done. But…Kuzan’s heart was damaged in the crash and we’re a match. Don’t be jealous now, Saka. I’m gonna give you a kidney too. Take care of that, y’hear? Guess that’s a good way to stop you from drinking.” There was soft laughter that devolved into a groan, “Don’t go blaming yourself alright, both of you. And Kuzan, you better treat that heart good, too.” There was a beat of silence, then, “I gotta go now. I love you, don’t ever forget that, alright?”
Click.
Kuzan leaned against Sakazuki.
“I’m sorry.” He said, putting a hand against his borrowed heart. He hadn’t taken good care of Borsalino’s heart.
Maybe in more ways than one.
He offered the phone back to Sakazuki, their fingers brushing up against each other. Sakazuki didn’t let go, instead, he took Kuzan’s hand as well, squeezing it tight before letting go.
“I’m sorry too.”
Kuzan moved to sit beside Sakazuki, eyes watering as he gazed at the headstone.
“I wanted to turn this place into a vineyard.” He said quietly, “Borsalino always preferred wine over beer. Thought about naming it after him…”
Sakazuki hummed, “They…” He paused as his voice broke, “There are wines made from flowers, right? Maybe we don’t have to fight over the farm…?”
They were both stuck in the past for so long.
A single weekend cannot mend years of guilt and resentment. But this is a start.
Kuzan swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice steady, “That sounds good.”