ζθ€ δΈ β saitou "moemoe professional killer" hajime (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iaijutsu) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-04-28 08:11 pm
iaijutsu) wrote in savetheearth2013-04-28 08:11 pm
Entry tags:
(closed action) what you don't know won't hurt you
who; Toshi and Hajime.
what; ATONEMENT LASAGNA. and a very awkward question.
where; Sano's apartment.
when; whenever after Toshi's settled in there.
[If Hajime thought he'd felt bad in the heat of the moment, things had only gotten worse when the fighting was done, the adrenaline had died down, and he didn't have the threat of imminent mauling to distract himself from everything that had happened on the night of the wolf hunt.
If Toshi hadn't been fast on his feet, he could have lost an arm, and it would've been Hajime's fault. That in itself was enough to make him feel like shit, but the fact that it was Toshi -
- he couldn't say what it was that made it stand out over everything else, but ever since Toshi's face had shown up in his memories, he'd just felt as if - as if there was something more there. Like he had to live up to what Toshi expected of him, like he had to go beyond that, like he wanted - recognition? Respect?
He didn't know what he wanted, but he was beginning to think that if things were ever going to make sense, he was going to have to ask about it.
Souji had mentioned that Toshi was staying over with Sano since the incident, and Hajime had gotten the address - and while he wasn't sure what he could possibly do to make up for what had happened, he had to imagine that doing all the usual daily tasks couldn't be too easy for Toshi as long as his arm was in a sling. And Hajime did make a pretty good lasagna.
So the late afternoon found him on the doorstep of Sano's apartment, a bag of groceries in hand, slightly out of breath from taking the stairs up as he reached forward to knock, and prayed he wasn't interrupting anything.]
what; ATONEMENT LASAGNA. and a very awkward question.
where; Sano's apartment.
when; whenever after Toshi's settled in there.
[If Hajime thought he'd felt bad in the heat of the moment, things had only gotten worse when the fighting was done, the adrenaline had died down, and he didn't have the threat of imminent mauling to distract himself from everything that had happened on the night of the wolf hunt.
If Toshi hadn't been fast on his feet, he could have lost an arm, and it would've been Hajime's fault. That in itself was enough to make him feel like shit, but the fact that it was Toshi -
- he couldn't say what it was that made it stand out over everything else, but ever since Toshi's face had shown up in his memories, he'd just felt as if - as if there was something more there. Like he had to live up to what Toshi expected of him, like he had to go beyond that, like he wanted - recognition? Respect?
He didn't know what he wanted, but he was beginning to think that if things were ever going to make sense, he was going to have to ask about it.
Souji had mentioned that Toshi was staying over with Sano since the incident, and Hajime had gotten the address - and while he wasn't sure what he could possibly do to make up for what had happened, he had to imagine that doing all the usual daily tasks couldn't be too easy for Toshi as long as his arm was in a sling. And Hajime did make a pretty good lasagna.
So the late afternoon found him on the doorstep of Sano's apartment, a bag of groceries in hand, slightly out of breath from taking the stairs up as he reached forward to knock, and prayed he wasn't interrupting anything.]
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[ Hajime's knocking was immediately met with a chorus of swearing from within, followed by the muffled sound of... What was that? Was that rain?
From the other side of the door, the shower of macaroni noodles spilling over the kitchen counter and onto the floor did indeed sound a great deal like rain. From Hell.
Toshi couldn't believe himself, that he'd managed to knock the fucking box over with his elbow just turning in surprise at the sound of someone at the door.
Fucking. Hell.
He probably wouldn't have jumped out of his skin a week ago, but between the werewolves and the near loss of his arm and the fact that Toshi wasn't exactly expecting any company, he was understandably a little bit wound up. For one thing, he'd only been here a couple days and it was Sano's damned house. For another, he never, ever got visitors at his own place so. This was definitely something for Sano.
Maybe a hooker or something. Toshi wouldn't blame Sano at this point, considering what they'd all been through over the last few days. Hell, he'd even encourage it. Step out for a couple of smokes or something.
...
Not that he really thought Sano would. Which was a shame, but also probably for the best given that Sano wasn't even in right now.
Sighing, Toshi took a moment to calm his frayed nerves before moving over to open the door. ]
Look, Sano's not--
...
--Hajime?
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Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.
But there wasn't really a graceful way to say sorry, nevermind and back out now, and even if there were - he'd come here for more reasons than one, and even if he wasn't sure which was more important now - trying to make things easier on Toshi, or finding out what he could about their apparent...connection - he didn't really want to leave without making at least one of those things happen.
If Toshi would let him.]
Is...this a bad time?
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Now that he took a moment to think about it, this wasn't really that surprising. If Souji's mouth was any bigger it'd have its own gravitational pull. And he knew Souji and Hajime spoke, and he didn't figure Hajime got over the guilt of what happened the other day overnight so--
Looking something in between surly and apologetic, Toshi finally just sighed and shook his head, opening the door wider to invite Hajime in. ]
No, not exactly. Just fighting a losing battle with some noodles.
[ Expecting Hajime to come in and shut the door behind him, Toshi simply moved away after that to pad back into the kitchen so he could find where Sano left the damned broom. ]
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And then immediately taking a quick look around, grabbing a wad of paper towels, and kneeling down to sweep the errant noodles into one pile. Not quite as efficient as a broom, maybe, but he probably would be able to get most of it corralled into the same spot by the time Toshi even found the broom, so why not?
Besides, if he hadn't surprised him, it surely wouldn't have come up to begin with. It seemed like the least he could do.]
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Hajime, what are you-- Look, you don't have to--
[ After a few moments of struggling to find the right thing to say, Toshi gave up altogether and moved to help instead. They could argue about this, or he could remember how to be a normal human being for two minutes and they could just get the damned mess cleaned up.
He dropped down on one knee himself, dragging the trash can over so that it was within arm's reach.
...
Well he certainly wasn't going to scoop up any noodles with just the one hand, so he left that to Hajime as he helped collect all the noodles into one pile instead. ]
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It perhaps wasn't the ideal time to explain why he'd come, but he didn't really want to waste too much of Toshi's time if he wasn't welcome, and it was a bit more relevant now that Toshi had dropped what Hajime could only presume was meant to be dinner.
(A pretty sad dinner, but that was easily fixed.)]
I thought you might be - ["Having trouble" made it sound like he didn't think Toshi was capable of functioning. Better rephrase that.] - finding it inconvenient, to try and cook with only one hand, so I...came to help you, if you don't mind.
["Help," in Hajime's dialect, meaning "sit down and put your feet up while I cook you something delicious from scratch."]
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And it wasn't like Toshi had anything but time around here, laid up with his arm still too tender to do much with, leaving him to be the world's absolute shittiest housewife. ]
...look.
[ The noodles were mostly picked up by now, so Toshi straightened up from his crouch to look Saitou in the eye. ]
Stop it. I don't need your apologies, or your guilt, or your pity. I'm a grown ass man, okay? And it wasn't your damn fault any more than the fucking werewolves were anyone's fault. There's weird shit going on, and it's happening to everyone. So just let it go.
It's fine. We're fine.
[ He paused then, heaving out a sigh as he stood and cast an eye over at the bag of groceries that Hajime brought. ]
...
That said, I'd-- I'd appreciate the help. Because yeah, it's actually a pain in the ass to get anything done like this.
[ This really wasn't going well. Toshi just wanted to... let Hajime know somehow that things were okay between them, and that he was both shocked and more than a little touched by Hajime's gesture of even stopping by.
Toshi wasn't a guy who was used to having friends willing to do favors for him. Hell, he wasn't used to having friends-- ]
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- guilt, probably, yes, but -
- but what could he say to that, really? He straighteeds up slowly, dumped the last of the runaway noodles in the trash.]
Yes -
[- not sir. Why did he keep trying to say that.]
- I understand.
[And then he got to his feet, not quite making eye contact.]
This really isn't a bother, though. I'd be doing the same thing at Souji's tonight if I weren't here, so -
[So just let him knock your culinary socks off, okay?]
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...
What, Souji has you cooking for him too? Ever think that brat's taking advantage of your kindness, Hajime?
[ As he spoke, he moved over to the bags to help Hajime unpack at least, examining the contents of the bag as he did. The first thing he picked up was pasta sauce, so his brain went to wondering if they were having noodles. But this was an awful lot of ingredients for noodles. Weren't you just supposed to heat the sauce, boil some noodles, and slap it all together in a bowl?
Then he got his hands on the box of lasagna noodles. Oh. ]
...
I had no idea you could just make this kind of shit at home. Seriously?
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I'd still be cooking for myself, and it's better than letting him subsist on fast food.
[And it wasn't really taking advantage if Souji had always been there for him, too, was it? Not in the same ways, not doing the same things, but -
- his train of thought is interrupted by Toshi's reaction to the box of noodles, and he smiles faintly.]
Yes, seriously.
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It's nice that someone's looking out for him. ]
Well, let me know if you need any help.
[ Although Toshi already knows he's going to be absolute shit for help and he imagines that Hajime knows that too. He turns to try to get them some refreshments instead. ]
What do you want to drink? Sano's got juice, milk, tea-- ...I imagine you don't want the beer.
[ Notice how that is not a yes or no question, Hajime. ]
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[Toshi pls. He's nineteen and clearly knows he shouldn't be drinking beer anyway, even if he's given up on arguing with Souji about why he shouldn't do it either.
He starts opening cupboards, grabbing a casserole dish and a bowl or two, opening packages to get things started.]
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Here.
[ He brings over Hajime's glass to hand to him, holding it out in offering. ]
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[He stops rummaging through the cheeses (because why stop at just one kind?) long enough to accept the glass and take a long sip, but as much as part of him wants to stay in safe territory - mindless small talk, tea, cooking - there was another reason he came here.
Another reason part of him still isn't sure he wants to ask about, because by all indications, he isn't going to like the person he apparently used to be.
But does what he wants really matter?]
There was something else that I wanted to ask you about.
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[ At present moment, Toshi is completely unsuspecting as he thinks Hajime means to speak to him more on the whole subject of having nearly removed his arm. So he merely picks up his own drink and has a sip, waiting for Hajime to go on. ]
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It takes a moment for Hajime to start; he pauses for a moment to get his thoughts in order before he finally speaks up, his eyes still on his cooking.]
The things I've remembered so far - there hasn't been a lot. But it's been consistent. Nothing really seems to contradict anything else, but it's not enough to know what was going on. [Pause. Hopefully this doesn't sound weird and creepy.]
...you were there. In one of the things I remembered. So I was wondering if...you might have remembered anything yourself that would help it make more sense.
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"Did you do it?"
"It's done."
The room is dark. Just the one candle, gently burning on a night so still that there isn't even breeze enough to stir it. Toshi's on his knees. The air smells of fresh tatami and spring. There's Hajime next to him, also kneeling. Knees together, back straight. His hands are in his lap, and he's as still as the absence of the wind.
There's a smear or blood that hasn't quite rubbed out just under his chin. Toshi doesn't point it out, though he thinks to. His clothes are fresh. He would have changed before coming to make his report.
They sit in that heavy, suffocating silence. There's a glimmer of-- Of something in Hajime's eyes, but it's there and gone. It's there and gone, but it burns itself into Toshi's mind. He should say something. He should be saying something. Anything.
"...good work."
His voice is low. Flat. Empty. Hajime nods, just the slightest tilt of his head.
Toshi should say something. Stop him.
I'm sorry. Talk to me, Saitou. Tell me what's on your mind.
"Dismissed."
Toshi's hands clench into fists where he has them on his desk, and he brings them stiffly to his sides. When he closes his eyes, he can see a girl. Young. Pretty. A hair too skinny, but sweet. He sees her smiling, sees her leading a young boy down the street. The boy looks like Souji. Soft brown hair, a little sullen, clinging to the girl. It wasn't fair, but life's not fair.
She had to die.
"Yes sir." Saitou-- Hajime...? He bows. Rises to his feet. Turns his back.
Toshi needs to say something. Anything.
The door opens and shuts again, and Hajime is gone.
The candle flickers.
The glass slips out of Toshi's hand as he stares at Hajime wide-eyed. He doesn't know how long he's been standing here. He remembered that terrible scene days ago. He just pushed it away because it was too strange, too utterly inexplicable, and yet as soon as Hajime questioned him about it, it all came flooding back to him in far more vivid detail than before.
His heart feels like lead, weighed down by his regret. He should have said something. There were so many time when he should've--
...
Should have what...? ]
I--
...Saitou, I--
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And then the crash of the glass hitting the floor resounds like a gunshot, and his head snaps up to finally meet Toshi's gaze.
He isn't sure what that look means.
He isn't sure he wants to know what that look means.
But one thing is clear enough: there's no denying that it means Toshi knows something.]
Saitou...?
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[ Dammit. Dammit.
Toshi barely even hears the glass break. He's only half-aware of his surroundings, so caught up in that surge of memory and emotion that he doesn't even feel like he's really here. Like he could blink and he'd be standing there, living someone else's life.
A life that evidently entails the murder of young girls, where that kind of grim work is doled out to Hajime like some kind of damned shopping list--
He doesn't know why he called Hajime that name just now. It just slipped out. It was what he called the Hajime in his memories, after all. But now he has to explain it, and he doesn't know how. He never wanted to have to tell Hajime this. He wanted to ignore it until it faded away like any other bad dream. ]
...I--
I had one of those... memories. Like they talk about on the network.
[ Toshi stumbles back, away from the shards of the shattered glass, stopping only when his back hits the counter just behind him. He leans against it for support, bringing up a hand to cradle his head. ]
Way back when we were talking in the library. Of you, and me, and-- When I thought about you in the memory, that's... That's your name.
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Not in the sense that Toshi is threatening; he never had a bad feeling about the man even before all of this. Even before that odd sense of loyalty, of trust, of being willing to follow him no matter where that might lead -
But where did it lead?
It's the distress that's threatening. It's the fact that whatever Toshi knows, it doesn't seem like there's any way it can be a good thing, and that would match right up, really, with memories of being sent to spy and of dying in combat, with this apparent instinctual skill for swordsmanship and for drawing to kill.
Remembering killing, Hajime realizes, suddenly seems a lot scarier than remembering dying.
Anyone can die. It doesn't take a special kind of person to take a few shots, to fight for their last breaths and try to make their last seconds count for something.
It takes a different kind of person to kill, and he doesn't want to be that person.
When he looks at Toshi, all he can think of is being that person, and he doesn't want to know.
But it's not about what I want.]
And what... [He stops to take a breath, biting his lip.] What happened?
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But then there is that bitter, lingering regret. The one that snarls curses at him from the back of his mind, that he was never there for Saitou when Saitou was always and unfailingly there for him. That he grew too used to and comfortable with the idea of Saitou simply being, that leaning on Saitou whenever he came up short became the status quo. And the more Saitou gave him the more he took.
He owed Saitou so many things. He never thought of it as a debt between them, but that's exactly what it was. A debt that ran so deep that it could never be repaid.
At the very least, he owes Hajime the truth. Doesn't he...?
He briefly glances up at where Hajime stands, and all he can see is his discomfort, his fear. What the hell is he supposed to do...? ]
I was... taking a report from you. I asked-- I asked you if you'd gone through with it, and...
...
Everything around us looked old. The floors were tatami-- Like they use in Japan? And you were dressed like you were from some period film.
Look, Hajime, I--
I knew you. I knew you like how-- Like how I know the sun. Maybe I don't see it all the time, but I don't have to. I know when it rises and sets. That's-- That's the kind of feeling I got when we spoke. We barely said a few words, but it was this... whole conversation of all the stuff we'd left unsaid.
...
And I knew no matter what I said to you, you'd follow to the letter.
...
[ Toshi draws in an unsteady breath, an all too familiar self-deprecating smile on his lips. Hajime probably won't buy that it was no one's fault but Toshi's own, but that's the whole of it. ]
I asked you to do something terrible, Hajime.
I did something terrible to you.
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That was it. That was exactly the feeling Hajime had gotten from his own memories, from the way Toshi had told him to go, to wait however long he had to and keep an eye on - Itou, whoever that was. He'd had that feeling then - that unquestioning feeling that of course he would do it, that it would be ridiculous of him to do anything else.
That he'd do anything for Toshi.
And then he'd had the feeling that things might end in something bad, but at the same time - this didn't sound like the same thing.]
What was it?
[His voice is low. Soft.
Afraid?]
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Don't do this. Don't do it. Don't. Don't. Don't.
Toshi's good hand grips the edge of the counter behind him, grips it tight. He sees the girl again, her pretty smile, her soft lips. He sees the look on Saitou's face, the carefully masked grief, the rationalizations that would be running through his mind.
The simple fact that orders were orders, and that could not be changed.
How could Toshi have asked something like that of him? Dirty work should be done yourself or not at all.
How could he?
The quiet of Hajime's voice now makes Toshi's mouth feel dry. He should be able to protect him.
Why can't he protect him? ]
I asked--
...
I--
I ordered you to--
To kill someone. A girl. Fourteen, maybe. You came to tell me it was done.
I don't--
...
I don't know why. It felt-- It felt so necessary, but I just can't... I don't know why.
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A girl.
Fourteen, maybe.
And he -
One hand slips up to cover his mouth, to keep the sound of shock threatening to escape him from making it to the surface, because somehow even now, something in him rejects the thought of letting Toshi see that kind of a reaction from him, because it's improper, it's not his place -
- then what is his place?
Doing this?]
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[ It hurts, somehow. Watching Hajime fight so hard to keep his composure hurts. Toshi can feel it down to the marrow of his bones. His hands clench tightly, his wounded arm aching at the tensing of his muscles. This is torture. He doesn't want this for Hajime. He never wanted this for Hajime, any of this.
But how is he to protect Hajime from something as overwhelming as the truth...?
The tricky thing about truth is that no matter how hard you try to bury it, it has its way of catching up to you.
Grimacing at himself, at Hajime's reaction, at this whole fucked up situation, Toshi steps carefully forward again, avoiding the glass. He places his hand on Hajime's shoulder, then shifts it to brush the back of his hand over the line of Hajime's jaw, fingers finally hooking under the other man's chin to force him to look up. ]
Look at me, Hajime.
We-- We don't know what these memories mean yet. And they're just-- They're just memories. You're not that guy, and you haven't done those things.
You're a good kid.
You study hard, you try to make your parents happy even if it means making yourself miserable, you're always there for Souji even when he's a little shit who doesn't deserve it.
You're not that guy.
And anything that happened back then--
They're not things you did, Hajime.
They're things that were done to you. Things I--
...
Don't torture yourself. You're you. You get to decide what that means.
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Hearing it - even from Toshi, even with that strange desire he has to put Toshi's words before anything - doesn't really make him feel any better. It's easy to say that wasn't him.
But if he's not that guy, then why does he remember being him?
They're just memories.
That doesn't make him feel much better, either. Aren't memories a tremendous part of who you are? Experiences, emotions - take that away and you don't know who you are.
Not that he's so sure of who he is now anyway.
And as he looks at Toshi, all the arguments he wants to make turning over in his head, he finds himself pushing them aside, and the words he kept catching himself halfway to saying before finally slip out.]
Yes, sir.
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Toshi doesn't know what to do.
Yes, sir.
He doesn't know what to do with those words, or that look in Hajime's eyes, or the vast unknown pressing down on them from all sides.
Who the hell are they...? And why is this happening to them?
Finally, Toshi can only shut his own eyes, proving to them both that they truly are one and the same as the men from their memories. ]
...Good.
Don't touch the broken glass. I'll find something to clean it with.
[ Toshi really is the worst kind of person. Exactly the kind of person who would send someone to do something unspeakable for him, and then simply leave them to be alone with their thoughts.
He used to wonder who he'd pissed off in a past life to get the life he's living now.
Now he thinks he has an idea.
Except he doesn't. Not really. He doesn't begin to know the true tally of his sins. ]