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“Back away.” Kinjo's voice is low and dangerous. “Now.”
“B-but he’s…” Teruya attempts, both hands raised. The sudden icy glow in his classmate's scarlet eyes stops him in his tracks. But though he can't move forward, he can't turn away, either. Not when a still and quiet form lies in the room, filling the air with the scent of blood and broken bonds.
Again. Again, again. It always came to the same place, didn't it?
But somehow, he'd never imagined it could ever be him.
In the back of the laundry room, a familiar figure is slightly curled, lying limply over a small pool of drying blood. Several red marks hang over his open collar, creeping up his neck.
His eyes are closed, and his ginger hair is messy, tangling over his ears, and trailing onto the bloody floor. A gash carves from his back to his side, ripping into the soft, tan weave of his sweater vest. A makeshift gauze of fabric is pressed into the wound, but it isn't bleeding. Not anymore.
There's no point in trying to get past him… Teruya surrenders, backing up towards the doorway. It's… too late. At this point, they're just waiting for the BDA to play.
Why hasn't it yet? Could he…?
Oh, right. It's just us in here. Not enough people. Of course.
“What the hell are you up to now, Psycho-Cop?” A new voice appears from behind. Teruya jumps a little, then sighs under his breath in relief.
“M-Mekaru…” Thank goodness.
“What's going on here, Otori?” She looks down at him over her glasses, tone serious.
“It's… it h-happened. Again.” he manages to say. “It's Y-” his explanation is cut off as Mekaru shoves quickly past him to look inside. The moment her shadow passed into the dorm from the doorway, Kinjo bristles once more.
“Get out. Both of you. Don't make me say it again.” His voice is quiet, and cold. From time to time, an odd film flickers over his gaze, like a sheet of ice over a lake.
“Maeda…” Mekaru's expression falters a bit, but she quickly rearranges herself, falling into the sharp affect Teruya has gotten used to seeing on her face. The one he needed in this situation, instead of whatever was going on with Kinjo. A calm, unbending attitude which makes it easier for Teruya to keep hold of his own disintegrating emotional state.
“Did you hear me? Get the hell out.” Kinjo’s eyes flicker from ice to flame, fury and desperation glowing like embers. Teruya manages to mostly stifle a yelp, and backs up a little, behind Mekaru. She frowns, and crosses her arms.
“Are you trying to obstruct our investigation?” She asks coldly. There’s no humor in her tone. Teruya swallows nervously, gaze flipping between the two.
“This isn't an investigation!” Kinjo snaps, voice turning hoarse at the end. His face is raggedly holding on to fury, for fear of it turning to something else.
“Quit being a pain in all of our asses. You're a police officer, and I know you aren't stupid enough to believe-”
“Shut up!” The yell pierces Teruya's ears. Tsurugi Kinjo has said many terrible things. None of those times had been quiet, or gentle. No, they hadn't. But never, has he heard him shout like this.
“You're wrong.” His tone dies. The fire cools again, to something bone-chillingly cold. Teruya glances up at Mekaru. Don't tell him he's wrong again, please…
“Denial doesn't suit you, Kinjo.” She says.
“You're wrong.” Like a broken record, the same words come back, but quieter this time.
“I am, am I?” Mekaru glares right back. There's no being delicate with her. But then, maybe being kind would have been no better. Teruya doesn't know. He almost feels bad, watching them, but he knows that in this scenario, running away from the truth is deadly. So if he has reservations about Mekaru's approach, he keeps them to himself.
Kinjo is silent for long moments, even after she presses him for evidence. When he speaks, his arguments are uncharacteristically feeble. But it doesn't matter, because the stalemate remains. Eventually, all they can do is retreat, and hope that when they return with reinforcements, that will be enough.
It's only several minutes later that anyone else realizes the body discovery announcement had never gone off.
Tsurugi Kinjo can't bring himself to look away, yet can't truly look. If he examines too closely, the evidence would line itself up before him in traces and outright markers. In the back of his mind, logically, he already knew it was impossible, yet somehow he keeps turning his gaze away from the truth. It couldn't be the truth. Not him, not like this... Desperately, he waits for evidence to anchor his fleeting hopes, and somehow, despite all odds, he receives some.
“Hh…” A small, choking breath suddenly captures Kinjo’s full attention. He immediately leans over the slumped body, watching him closely. The sound comes again. He leans in closer, grabbing a limp hand and squeezing it tight.
He feels the ghost of motion stirring between their fingers. The chest next to him shakes with a quiet, rattling breath. At last, eyes slowly, painfully force themselves open.
A shuddering gasp nearly escapes Tsurugi's throat. Pain lights those eyes, and fear flickers below, but Kinjo still trembles with relief.
“Yuki…”
Yuki opens his mouth, but nothing comes out except a hoarse, choked wheeze, and his breath is faint and ragged.
He can’t speak yet… Kinjo muses. It makes sense. His vocal chords were probably…
Eyes snap towards him, desperate. Tsurugi cuts off any further thoughts, and instead meets his gaze. Words leave him, so instead, he leans down, shielding Yuki’s body, careful not to move him too much.
A rough, broken shard of a sound vibrates quietly from Yuki’s throat. His body shakes against Kinjo’s chest.
“Everything will be alright, now." He says in a steely tone. Yuki’s tears seep into Tsurugi's shirt. “I won't let whichever scum did this harm you again, I assure you."
The smaller body below his trembles, and occasional soft, hoarse and muffled sniffles accompany the tears. Tsurugi touches his back, and closes his eyes for a moment.
Just for a moment. He can't let his guard down yet.
“Yuki, now that you're stable, I'm going to take you somewhere more secure,” He pulls back, waiting for a response. There’s a small nod, and shoulders lean towards him, as though perturbed by the sudden lack of contact.
“This may hurt.” Tsurugi waits for another nod, then kneels, tugging his charge closer, before delicately lifting him up into the air. Yuki’s face hardens for a moment, muscles tensing, but he makes no noise.
Once he's being carried, head resting against Kinjo’s shoulders, his body relaxes a bit, and he closes his eyes. However, one hand limply presses toward the officer’s chest, fingers tangling with his tie, and closing around the fabric.
Shivers tremble against Tsurugi's chest, and a face presses into him.
It's going to be okay this time. He tries to reassure himself. He's okay… he’s okay…
It doesn't take long to get to the dorms. Though Kinjo hovers between their rooms briefly, there’s only one logical choice. Unlocking his own door, he carefully holds it aside with a foot, and turns so Yuki's feet don't collide with the doorframe as they enter.
The face pressed into his chest shifts a little, and brown, exhausted eyes survey their surroundings. Kinjo makes a quiet sound in his throat, and lowers him to the bed.
Yuki is reluctant to let go, so Kinjo moves slowly, gently prying fingers away from his tie, and squeezing his hand.
“I'm not going anywhere.” He promises. And he doesn't; never leaving Yuki’s sight as he collects a few things from the room. Anxious, tired eyes follow him the entire time, until he returns to Yuki’s side.
“Can you swallow?” He holds out a small glass, and a bottle of painkillers. The nod he receives is a little uncertain. “I'll help you, we can try just water first…”
Yuki’s hand struggles to hold the glass, so Tsurugi aids him, tilting it gently up, and steadying his body. It's clearly difficult, and a bit painful, but Yuki manages to drink. Afterwards, he holds out his hand expectantly. So Kinjo presses a few pills into his palm, and helps him swallow them down.
After that, Yuki stares at him, and opens his mouth again. A croak comes out, and he coughs, pain sparking into his expression. Kinjo frowns, and helps him drink again when his shaky fingers reach for the glass.
Watery eyes meet his gaze. Yuki gestures towards himself, and then at Kinjo.
“Your vocal chords may need some time to recover… I’m sure you have questions…” He guesses. Yuki nods quickly. “I'll tell you what happened prior to this, if that helps.” Another nod.
“I’m not sure what happened, or who did this…” Kinjo's voice is bitter. “But when I found you, you weren't responding.” Yuki stares at him, brows furrowed. “There was… a lot of blood. But the gash on your side wasn't as serious as it looked.” Yuki’s gaze drifts to the tear in his vest. “…I'm certain someone tried to …strangle you.” He says after a moment of hesitation. Yuki’s eyes darken, and he nods.
“You remember…?” Yuki makes a sort of shrugging motion, but with a nod. Then, his body tenses up again, and his eyes dart towards the door, and about the room. “Yuki, do you know who…?” His question is met by a firm shake of the head, and a forlorn, scared expression.
The blanket shifts a bit, and Tsurugi looks down to see Yuki’s hands trembling.
The bed creaks a bit as he sits down, and places a hand over Yuki’s.
“I'll protect you.” He says. Yuki looks up at him, eyes still watery with pain and fear. Then, he leans forward, slumping into Kinjo’s side. Without a word, the police officer bundles his charge into a quiet embrace. “I'm sorry.” Yuki shakes his head into Kinjo's chest. Instead of responding with words, the taller man hugs him more tightly, curling over him, shielding his smaller frame.
They stay like that for a good ten minutes. With Yuki, still-warm, and still-breathing, close to his heart, Kinjo’s body slowly begins to relax into something closer to normal. The tightness in his chest lifts a bit, and for a while, he loses track of time.
It's only when a knock sounds at the door that he's pulled back into the rest of the world again. Yuki shivers, and glances over apprehensively. A series of sharper, faster knocks follow. Kinjo stands, but a hand closes around his wrist. He looks back.
Yuki stares up at him, one hand holding his own arm, and the other closed around Kinjo's wrist. Worry glows in his eyes. The noise outside continues, but that can be ignored for a moment.
“Yuki.” He murmurs. “If you don’t want to be found, I’ll make sure you aren’t.”
His charge thinks for a moment. In the meantime, Kinjo runs through options on where to hide his guest from the person (or, more likely, persons) currently rapping loudly at his door. The bathroom, maybe? Hiding him would only be effective for a while-it’ll be clear exactly where he is eventually… but even if they know he's here, this is still the safest place…
A tug on his sleeve interrupts his thoughts. Yuki shakes his head, points at the door, and gives him a thumbs up, gesturing at him to open it. Kinjo nods, and squeezes his hand before leaving his side.
“That took a very long time, Mr. Psycho-cop.” Unsurprisingly, Mekaru had been the one rapping mercilessly at his door. And naturally, she isn't alone. Teruya and Akane stand behind her, with worried, tense expressions.
“Mekaru.” Kinjo greets her rigidly.
“Back to normal, I see.” Mekaru frowns, but before she can open her mouth, someone else cuts in.
“You moved the body, didntcha?” Teruya’s voice is surprisingly sturdy, and his hands are balled into fists, as if to further bolster his resolve. Kinjo doesn't get the chance to say anything before Mekaru continues the interrogation.
“Don’t bother denying it.” She says coldly. “Taira witnessed you in the act.” Kinjo glances over at her in surprise. She did? I didn't hear or see anything.…I never took her to be that stealthy.
Akane's expression is strange. Oddly calm, considering what she must believe in the moment.
Calm? No… that wasn't quite right. There was something coiled up in that cool exterior. Panic fighting against certainty. The kind of face someone made when something that couldn't happen had. Denial. The dangerous kind.
Kinjo had seen it on the faces of criminals before. And… it wasn't so different from how he had been, less than an hour ago.
“Are you going to open the door, Kinjo?” Akane's voice is strangely hollow, carrying a threatening politeness alongside the words.
“Hiding evidence is one thing.” Mekaru says. “But attempting to make off with a body is another. What kind of cop-”
“Again. There was never a body to hide.” Kinjo interrupts again, voice steely. Now that he had evidence, it was finally time to present and prove his claim. “See for yourself.” The hinges on the door creak as he moves it aside, widening the opening for everyone to see inside over his shoulder.
Mekaru stiffens, at a rare loss for words. Next to her, Teruya gasps. A quiet sigh, barely audible, comes from Akane's location, and the strange look in her eyes disappears.
Yuki gives them a weak wave. Kinjo turns to meet his gaze, debating keeping the others out of the room entirely, but Yuki gestures for them to approach, so he moves aside. The trio filters in after him slowly, giving Kinjo plenty of time to study Yuki's reaction.
His eyes flicker between them, assessing each of them in turn. Though he's not unhappy to see them, a mist of doubt and fear clouds his gaze briefly. Even Kinjo couldn't deny the possibility that the person who strangled Yuki within an inch of losing his life could be in this room right now.
Before the others reach them, he goes to stand rigidly near the bed, crossing his arms, before giving them a glare that draws a very clear line in the sand.
Not too close. He doesn't miss the relieved look on his charge’s face at this.
Kinjo had failed, but Tsurugi makes a new vow.
That will never happen again. I'll keep him safe.
He sees the gratitude and trust in Yuki's brown eyes, and it strengthens his internal vow.
I'll protect you.