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Somehow, he’s made it out of this cursed town. Even more incredibly, he’s also managed to help others along the way; for once, he’s been able to save lives instead of ending them. That barely makes up for all the heinous acts he’s committed in life, but it’s a start.
The train has resumed its course, meaning that soon he’ll arrive at his destination, everyone will. It feels strange thinking that soon he will have to say goodbye to the people he’s spent the most traumatizing couple of days with, but everyone has their lives to go back to, it’s only fair that they do.
There’s no sense of accomplishment for what he has done, only relief that it’s finally over, as well as something else that he’s tried to ignore until that moment, that sense of something left unsaid and undone that keeps gnawing at him in the back of his mind, the cause of it being the same person that has just passed him while walking to the luggage wagon, motioning with his head for him to follow, before disappearing from his view.
He can’t help but wonder what he might want, so after waiting for some time to pass in order to be as inconspicuous as possible, he follows to the other wagon.
Once he’s inside of it, he finds only him, the salesman he’s come to know during this crazy voyage, who had soon became a trusted companion and – at least on Marcoh’s part – a friend.
He looks lost in his thoughts, not unlike his state when they first met after the train had stopped, to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s not alone anymore until he catches his attention. “Hey, Tanaka,” he says in fact, “you needed something?”
“Oh, Marcoh, greetings!” he replies, hesitating before adding something.
From the way he’s acting, it doesn’t seem that he actually had a reason for wanting Marcoh to follow him. Still he waits, partly because he feels that, eventually, he will say something, partly because it dawns on him, now more than ever, that these are the last moments he will ever spend in the company of the other man.
“I just wanted to say– I’m not sure why we couldn’t have this conversation inside the other wagon, but since we’re here I wanted to thank you, for everything you’ve done for me,” he eventually manages to say. Not the most moving speech, but it still feels weird for Marcoh to be thanked, and for what? For having shown him a few tricks to use in fights? That wasn’t anything special.
“Um…” He doesn’t really know how to respond, especially when he considers Tanaka’s earnest tone. To say that he feels embarrassed would be an understatement. “It’s nothing, really. Didn’t do much anyway…”
“Nonsense!” comes the immediate reply. Marcoh tries to look Tanaka in the eyes, but he can’t bring himself to hold his gaze for too long. “You’ve instilled courage in everyone, and always gave a helping hand when we needed it. If it weren’t for you, I’m sure our numbers here would be much inferior to what they are.”
He’s making him sound like such a hero, when in reality he’s anything but.
In his mind, every kind word turns into an accusation: he’s making himself look like something he clearly isn’t. If he were a hero, he wouldn’t be running away from the Family, he wouldn’t have joined them in the first place even.
His hesitation in accepting the praise must’ve been easy to notice, because Tanaka frowns. “Did I offend you somehow?” he asks, having however misinterpreted the effects his words are having on Marcoh’s mood.
“No, no, of course not,” he’s quick to reply in fact. He scratches the back of his neck, unsure on how to proceed. There’s a reason why he tends to keep quiet in conversations. “We all did our best, not just me. That’s all.”
Tanaka looks at him in a way that makes him feel like he’s under scrutiny – he definitely is – but then a smile graces his lips. Something has changed inside the room, Marcoh can tell that much, a shift in the equilibrium that was holding everything together.
He should probably go back to his seat, but he can’t bring himself to leave Tanaka; he can’t lie to himself: he’s attracted to him, something he had already realized but has managed to ignore thanks to the deadly situation they all were in. Now that they’re safe, however, these feelings are getting harder and harder to ignore and hide, so perhaps Tanaka has caught wind of something and is doing something about it.
What’s surprising is that Marcoh feels a reciprocation coming from him, but he must be reading him wrong, right?
“You’re being too modest,” Tanaka says, however, taking a step towards him.
Marcoh has never shied away from a confrontation, despite trying his best to avoid them in the first place, but this time he steps back, then he does it again since it doesn’t look like Tanaka’s stopping, until his back hits the wagon’s door.
When the other man kisses him it’s rough, assertive, not at all like Marcoh had imagined but he’ll take the real deal over his imagination any time.
Now that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore, he lets all the feelings he’s had to repress until that moment come forth: he grabs Tanaka by the waist, dragging him closer until he can feel the weight and warmth of his body against his own, before anchoring his hands on the back of his buttoned-up shirt; he must have bulked up while in Prehevil, because he can feel how the fabric is struggling to contain his body mass now, though he surely isn’t helping with the way he keeps holding onto it. He hopes Tanaka has brought a spare with him, because even if he tries his best to be as delicate as possible, he might still rip it.
His energy is matched by Tanaka, who kisses him like a starved man who has finally managed to procure himself something to eat: he too pulls him closer by the scruff of his jacket, giving him barely any space to breathe. When he pushes a thigh between his legs, Marcoh gasps, barely able to resist the urge to grind against it: he has to remind himself that, although they’re alone at the moment, they’re still inside the train; certain behaviors are better kept for more private occasions.
He feels dizzy when Tanaka pulls away, but he still chases his lips, kissing him again and again, each kiss growing softer than the last as the rush of adrenaline they’ve both felt begins to die down.
In the end, they find themselves staring at each other while catching their breaths, both incredulous about what has just happened but also glad it did.
“I’ll write to you,” says Tanaka, still a bit short of breath, breaking the silence. “We can keep in touch.”
Keep in touch. Marcoh wishes he could do that, but he has to remind himself that he’s still on the run: he’s supposed to be hard to find, and keeping a correspondence seems the worst way to go about it. Besides, what if the Family finds out about this? They wouldn’t stop at anything to hurt him, which means that he’d be putting Tanaka in great danger just because the two of them are close.
If he wants to protect him, he has to let him go. It’s for his own good.
“I’d like that,” he still says, because he can’t bear telling him no.
Surely, once Tanaka returns to his old business life, he’ll be so submerged in work that he won’t even have the time to remember who Marcoh is. Hopefully, he’ll forget him and live his best life – he deserves it.
If there are shadows on his face, Tanaka doesn’t notice them, because after cupping his face between his hands, he kisses him again, then again, and again, until Marcoh completely melts and stops thinking altogether.
It’ll be best, for Tanaka’s sake, to forget about him once they step out of this train, but his determination to make sure this happens isn’t as solid as he believed it would be.
Perhaps there is a way to make this work out, but that’s a thought for a later time, as Marcoh makes the decision to enjoy this moment while it lasts.
He’s learned to never expect anything from the future, anything good at least, so he won’t delude himself of the fact that they’ll get the happy ending both he and Tanaka wish for.
Still, he can’t help but hope for it.